Author's Note: I used Transformers Animated's female Drag Strip as the basis for Drag Strip in this Prime-verse setting.

She was just too cool not to use. :D


"Shockwave," Megatron said as he entered the scientist's laboratory aboard the Nemesis, "I am in need of information."

Shockwave looked up from the computer console he had been laboring over, the light from the holographic monitors and solid holographic keyboard casting a pink tint over his armor. "How may I be of service to you, my Liege?"

The laboratory was kept dimly lit and the color of its metallic walls and floors made Shockwave blend into the scenery. One might wonder if the scientist preferred it that way, allowing him an element of surprise should the sanctity of his workspace be violated. Heavy duty computers, multiple monitoring screens, hyperevolution chambers, dissection areas, medical research berths and nanolathe milling equipment for new, specialized components and armoring cluttered the walls and floors. One had to walk carefully so as not to trip over the heavy power conduits snaking along the floor panels.

Megatron momentarily wondered if the dark surroundings were a subconscious rebellion against the brightly-lit white walled facilities of the Institute that had taken Shockwave's head, emotions and former life.

"The Wrecker," he began, "How necessary is it for us to suffer her continued existence? Will executing her adversely affect the sparklings?"

"It is inadvisable to terminate the female until the sparks of her offspring are sufficiently developed and stable," Shockwave replied. "Without her spark to help sustain the sparks of her children, they would wither and perish. Normally the sparks of both parents help mature the sparks of their offspring, but a single parent can function in this task, though the young will take longer to mature."

"If you were to terminate the mother, you would have to acquire the father to keep the children alive. I doubt the Autobot Jazz would be as tractable as Shiftlock."

"I see," Megatron said, sounding disappointed. He would have to put up with the Wrecker longer, at least until the two sparklings were mature enough. He was comforted by the thought that he may be able to harden them into remorseless killers capable of offlining Shiftlock themselves.

Another thought came to mind. "Could I not support their sparks on my own?"

"No," was Shockwave's answer. "You share neither spark type nor frequency with either of them. It would not be possible for you sustain them."

Megatron grunted, acknowledging Shockwave's answer but not liking the facts laid out before him.

"My Lord, if I may?" Shockwave asked, seeking permission to speak.

"What is it, Shockwave?" the silver Decepticon lord asked.

"I would advise caution concerning who the Wrecker is exposed to at this time, particularly the other females aboard the Nemesis. Due to the strictures put upon generation during the great war, their systems are long overdue to produce sparklings, and the mother's EMF may trigger an irrepressible drive to generate. The carriers among us may also be affected," Shockwave said.

"The carriers? How?" Megatron questioned, not understanding.

"Carriers produce empty protoforms," Shockwave explained. "Sparked females or those who have recently completed their generation can trigger protoform creation subroutines in carriers."

Megatron facepalmed. He'd marched Shiftlock past all three of them just coming aboard the Nemesis.

...

"I WANT A SPARKLING!" Drag Strip snarled, throwing a chair across the mess hall and nearing hitting a couple of Vehicons in the process, who ducked and scrambled out of the way.

Wildrider and ducked under a long table. "Get ahold of yourself sis!" he begged, peeking up over the edge of the table. Motormaster seemed unphased, drinking his energon rations as if this were just normal, everyday behavior.

"DID YOU NOT SEE THEM!?" Drag Strip shouted, kicking over a table. "THEY ARE PRECIOUS AND CUTE AND I WANT ONE!"

"Must be that time of the vorn," Dead End quipped from his place near Motormaster.

Dead End would later regain consciousness at the far end of the mess hall, wondering how his head had managed to pass clean through the wall.

"Be reasonable!" Wildrider said, trying to persuade his sibling to calm down. "If you're sparked you won't be able to fight. Or race! You love racing - well, you love winning anyways - but you'd be slowed down while you're generating!"

"I DON'T CARE!" Drag Strip howled, frustrated beyond reason. She grabbed a nearby Vehicon who flailed in surprise, hoisted him over her head and threw him into a crowd of other Vehicons that were just trying to enjoy their meager rations in peace.

"WHAT IN THE PIT IS GOING ON IN HERE?!"

Knock Out's voice carried well through the mess hall; standing in the doorway he was already seeing medical work piling up onto his schedule in the form of lots of minor injuries and potentially (catching a look at Dead End hanging partway out of a wall) a few major ones.

Motormaster thumbed towards Drag Strip with one hand, continuing to read a magazine on the data pad in front of him.

"Oh thank Primus you're here," Wildrider exclaimed in relief. "Drag Strip's been super edgy lately and she keeps complaining about how she wants-"

"Well hello handsome," the femme Stunticon purred coyly, giving the Aston Martin bedroom glances and a flirty smile.

"D-" Knock Out blinked, looking rapidly between Wildrider and his sister who was now stalking ever closer to him with an unsettling lust in her eyes. "Did I come at a bad time?"

"Oh, not at all," Drag Strip grinned toothily, slithering up to the red mech and pressing herself up against him. Knock Out stared down at the suddenly salacious fembot and found himself backed up against a wall. He twitched nervously as she giggled under the hum of her engines, tracing circles with one digit across his torso plate.

"How about we go back to your quarters and take you from a Knock Out to a Knock Up," Drag Strip cooed.

"W-what?!" Knock Out verbally flailed, optics huge.

Wildrider groaned and covered his face with his hands.

"She wants babies," Motormaster succinctly stated, not bothering to turn around and watch the spectacle going on behind his back.

"I can see that!" Knock Out exclaimed, trying to move Drag Strip's roving hands away from private plating, emitting startled yelps as she somehow managed to find sensitive spots he didn't even know he had. She continued to giggle and toy with him, not giving a thought to the hundreds of optics locked on the two of them. The more he tried to move her away the more insistent she got; he felt as if she had suddenly become fluid, slipping through his grasp and clinging to him. "Drag Strip, I'm flattered that you - *hee hee!* - think I'm worthy to - *snicker* - father your sparklings but I don't - *bwahahaha!* - think I'm ready for that kind of responsibility - Oh good Primus woman, that tickles!"

*KNOCK OUT!* Megatron's voice shouted over the ship's intercom. *Drop whatever you're doing and get to the medical bay. Laserbeak is unable to dock with Soundwave!*

Saved by the job! "Well you heard Lord Megatron sounds like that's a really big problem that needs my care so I'd better get moving talk to you later Drag Strip!" Knock Out blurted out all at once. The sound of metal grating on metal punctuated the air, everyone else wincing in sympathy, as the Aston Martin slid himself around to the doorway from against the wall, not even caring for a moment that the paint was being grated off his back. With a terrified push that put Drag Strip onto her behind, he took off running down the hallway as fast as he could go.

Drag Strip's face drew into an angry, vengeful scowl. "Fine," she hissed. "If you won't give me what I want, I'll find someone else that will."

...

Megatron noticed all the paint missing on Knock Out's back as the mech trotted into the medical bay, his engines still revving high, vents puffing heat from exertion. "What happened to you?" he questioned.

"I almost became a father in front of the entire mess hall," Knock Out groused.

"How did-?" Megatron shook his head. "Nevermind. I don't want to know. Just tend to Soundwave."

Knock Out didn't want to answer, so it worked out well for the both of them. He walked over to Soundwave. "All right what seems to be the matter?" he asked the silent mech.

Soundwave, holding Laserbeak in his hands, released the deployer. It shot up a few feet into the air, turning over and diving back down towards Soundwave to attach to the spymaster's chest.

It nested there for all of a half second before falling off and flopping onto its back on the floor.

"I see," Knock Out said, picking up Laserbeak and turning it rightside up, setting it onto a nearby berth. The Decepticon medic went to the crash cart nearby and picked up a small scanning tool and observation light, running it over Soundwave's chest at the docking point.

"Hmm. Well, the problem is that there's an obstruction in the docking bay," Knock Out ascertained. Fortunately this time it wasn't one of Wheeljack's grenades. "The bay has sealed itself and isn't allowing any deployer to dock."

Megatron had a sinking notion he knew what it was. "Let me guess. It's a protoform."

Knock Out blinked. "How did you know?"

...

Starscream meandered the hall, arms behind his back, hunched forward and contemplative. "Assigning me to train the Wrecker's offspring just because it has wings?" he complained himself. "Still, I suppose it could be worse. I could have been saddled with the grounder. Or asked to personally guard the Wrecker herself." He made a face. "That would become awkward very quickly."

What Starscream did not know, at least not right away, that he was being listened to. Listened to and stalked.

He smiled and stopped, tapping his chin with a long, sharp finger and allowing himself to absentmindedly reminisce. "Flying lessons. How long has it been since I had anyone to give flying lessons to?" He straightened up, radiating pride. "The boy can't help but become an aerial ace under my tutelage-"

His wings flicked as he heard foosteps come up from behind. Startling and cringing, he whirled around. "Who's there?!" he cried, looking around frantically for the sound of the noise.

Starscream's brows drew together and he relaxed. "Oh, it's you," he rebuffed. "You should really learn not to sneak up on a bot when he's busy-" He searched for a word for something other than daydreaming out loud. "-planning on how best to serve Lord Megatron."

His expression shifted to one of concern and he took a step back, getting nervous. "Wait. Why are you looking at me like that? What are you -?!"

...

"Call it an inspired guess," Megatron answered wearily.

A shrill scream pierced the air in the hallway outside the medical bay. "No! NO! STAY BACK! NOHOHOHOH!"

Drag Strip passed by the open doorway, chipper and upbeat, holding one of Starscream's feet in each hand, dragging him along behind her. His claws futility sought purchase against the floor, screeeeeeetching along as they dug furrows into the ground.

"MASTER!" Starscream begged piteously, panicked, as he disappeared around the corner. "SAVE ME! I'M TOO IMPORTANT TO BE A FATHER!"

Megatron's expression flattened, exhausted by the chaos erupting around him. "Phase Seven was not supposed to happen like this."