Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen or any of the songs.

Author's Note: To avoid confusion, Scapel projected Lillian's memories to Knockout, Ravage and Soundwave while she was out. That's how they knew she was human. Lillian also gained access to Soundwave's infinite supply of recordings when Ravage attached himself to her chest.

German: Verstehst du? - Capisce? - English: Do you understand?

[Memories]

Thoughts

:Sound Clips:

::Comlink::

#History/Internal Dictionary#

:Music: = Radio Transmission (R#)

R1: Say Huh!? - Nightcore

R2: Who Says by Selena Gomez & The Scene

~0~

When Lillian had been sparked in the Tomb of the Primes, she gave herself three missions. One - Protect the tomb. Two - Refrain from entering any highly populated area where surveillance was a possibility. Three - Store as much red energon in the region as possible and guard it with her life.

Before sending her down to the land of the living, Primus had managed to install some much-needed basics into Lillian's processor.

Age was mentioned briefly. When gone unmentioned, a cybertronian would believe that she was an adult. Primus sparked her in an adult frame to avoid any frustration. If she mentioned her age, she would be considered a child. For the moment, Lillian didn't have a problem with that. She hadn't exactly been spry when her lights had been knocked out.

Upgrades had been the longest segment of Primus' speech after her nap. When trans-scanning, be careful not to pull a 'teenage superman' and scan something ridiculous, smaller than her protoform, or immobile by accident. Too many do-overs could damage her insides worse than if a human...got squished in the worst possible way. For that, there were no do-overs.

For scanning something separate from her frame, like a weapon, it was important to have the desired object scanned before choosing the material. Nothing bad would happen. It was just look weird if she suddenly had a golden aft if the rest of her frame was silver. She had a feeling that Primus had stole that from Jazz when he came back momentarily. The lesson learned there was that excess material had a mind of its own as far as where it showed up on another's frame.

Another upgrade that Primus had 'crossed out' for her sake was interfacing equipment. Primus warned her not to take the loss lightly, for it hurt more to be raped through the spark than the valve or spike. Also, just because she didn't have it didn't mean that others wouldn't look for it if desperate. Disconnecting metal from an alternate mode hurt. Alot. She took his word for it.

Energon was part of the last segment of his Cybertronian 101 class. She was told to drink red energon. She assumed it was because Primus would get a kick out of her drinking something that resembled blood. She just pretended it was fruit punch. It was fruit punch that could only be classified as a pain in the aft. Even with the Primes 'alchemy chamber' inside the Tomb, it still took a week for a single cube to be processed once she found a decent hunk of it.

For the past year of her five year existence, Lillian had been running dangerously low on red energon. She had been risking a potential cube for a single sip every day in order to survive. But even with that sip, she had been sleeping longer. Lillian would fall asleep for days at a time, risking a potential ambush upon her already decreasing stash of red energon. But no one ever came for the stash.

Even if some bot did decide to take it for a little spin, it wouldn't have mattered. Lillian had next to no fight left in her. With her energy level lowering to dangerous levels with every nap she took, she made a risky final call. Lillian waited until every last drop of her stash was depleted before drinking all of three cubes worth of red energon. She left her blessed sanctuary, and went to find a new source of energon.

What she found was Ravage. Well, parts of him. She went to touch him, believing him to pose no threat, before she was attacked by a spider with a vengeance. She went to dismantle the spiny creature before she saw Ravage's red optic flicker. Her processor clicked at the realization that the spider bot with a saw for a servo, Scapel, was the bot that had kept Ravage functioning. Scapel lived in a compartment in Ravage's chest and had managed to tie enough spare parts of his protoform together over the years to online him. Lillian examined Scapel before picking Ravage up. She carried him to the Tomb of the Primes and waited for his revival. During the transformation, she flicked Scapel off her shoulder. He had been riding on her like an unwanted hitchhiker. Scapel protested in German until Lillian fell offline next to Ravage.

Ravage, despite Scapel's insistence that Lillian should be dissected like a common bug on an operation table for flicking him, was grateful enough to not be stuck with nothing but a whiny insecticon once online to inform Soundwave of the situation. When Soundwave arrived with the Nemesis resting overhead, he found Ravage curled up to Lillian's chest. He had attached himself to her chest as though to pose as extra armor. His engine kept enough of a buzz in her circuits to keep her functioning until she woke up in med bay...Oh what a joy that was.

"Operation is required! She must be examined!"

"The only examining you'll be doing is on samples. Get back to your observation desk."

"But ze femme-!"

"Is awake, mind you," Lillian grumbled as her optics powered on. She slowly sat up. Ravage sat next to her on the medical berth, his spiky weapon of a tail swishing as though he couldn't poke an optic out with it.

Scapel took advantage of Lillian's deluded state and jumped on her helm. "She picked up a virus in ze desert! She must be analyzed!"

"Why you little piece of scrap-"

"On ze operation table! Chop chop!"

"Keep your talons off me!"

"Bleiben Sie ruhig! Sie müssen geprüft werden!"

"!مثل حفرة أنا مما يتيح لك رؤية بلدي الدواخل"

"Enough! Scapel-Observation."

"Ze femme-"

"Observation. Verstehst du?"

"Verstehen Sie," Scapel muttered as he scambled off the berth.

"Now you...Hold still." Lillian stared at Knockout as he scanned her and analyzed his findings. "Interesting..." Lillian eyed him as he turned to grab something. Does every physician enjoy being cryptic? Knockout held out a cube of pink energon - medical grade. If Lillian could have switched her nasal ridge she would have. Instead, she turned her helm to the right. "That won't help me."

"Are you criticizing my medical expertise?"

Don't sound so full of yourself. I'd reject it if it even if it was cherry soda. "Of course not, doctor. It's just that pink energon is completely useless to my systems, what with how fast it processes regular energon."

"I am well aware of your conditions. This is just to give you a boost. You do want to operate at maximum efficiency for Lord Megatron, don't you?"

Lillian continued to give him the cold shoulder. Knockout may be an excellent physician, but Lillian was determined to trust no one on this ship...Maybe Ravage, but that was only because Mark had practically made her his part-time owner when he handed her him in his cassette form before he passed. Ravage had stayed with her in both cassette form and feline form for years when she was kicked out of the house by Sonya. He had seen things no one else had seen - knew things no one else knew about her when her defenses were down. It was only natural she trusted him because she had nothing to hide from him. But unless Knockout was neutral as well-

Knockout set the cube down. "Look, Dria-"

:Dria. Oh, gee, why didn't I think of that?!:

"Soundwave couldn't very well give you a human name, now could he? Satisfied?" Lillian stared at him. Did she seem satisfied at being found out so soon? Either I'm painfully obvious or Soundwave and Knockout are really good at their jobs...Meh. I'll take both. "Soundwave will at least be satisfied that you have mastered the silent treatment. You'll need that patience working with him orns at a time."

:Who says?: (R2)

"Megatron's orders. You are now officially a spy under Soundwave's command."

:What-without my permission?!:

"Kind of slow, aren't you?"

Her engine revved. I'll show you slow, medic. :Buff this!:

"Now, now. None of that. According to decepticon hierarchy, I'm your mentor."

:Soundwave!:

"Soundwave is your superior. I'm just here for moral support." Lillian pursed her lips. Soundwave, when I see you your scrap metal. Who allows Knockout to be anyone's 'moral support officer?'

:I'm better at breaking 'em then fixing 'em:

"Tell Soundwave off. He's the one who suggested it."

...Maybe having a medic as a moral officer wouldn't be so bad. I'd rather have him with me than against me.

Lillian eyed him with one optic before extending her servo. "Don't think I won't." I will amuse you...if only because Ravage is giving me the evil eye.

Knockout smiled. "Such compliance..." Knockout plopped the cube in her servo. "When you finish that cube, head over to Soundwave's lab. We took the liberty of giving you an alt mode." I better not look like a fruitcake, Lillian thought as she set the empty cube aside and stood up. She examined the armor in one of Knockout's many mirrors. It was black. She found it fitting for both the environment and the fact that Ravage easily blended into her chest with the color as Lazerbeak did with Soundwave. Lillian put up her mask before leaving med bay, preparing herself mentally for anything.

~0~

There are certain events one might expect when they are attending to their first, or any new and sudden, job. New recruits are expected to be nervous, ordered around, and worked to the bone. Lillian expected many things. She told herself to expect the unexpected. Lillian expected to bow to anyone, including Megatron. She expected

to be bossed around, cornered, clawed at, and possibly dismantled. She did not, however, expect to be punched square in the face when she opened the door to Soundwave's 'work station'.

A red femme marched past her. "Watch it!"

Lillian allowed herself one look back at the femme before focusing on the now open doors of Soundwave's lab. Soundwave stood behind Megatron on his left side, close enough to be hovering but not intrusive. Lillian calmly walked inside, doors sliding shut behind her. She bowed a reasonable distance away from Megatron and waited. She received silence. Am I to remain silent? Ravage remained silent. The silence started to ring in her audios. Right, then... :My lord. You requested my presense?:

"Your designation."

:Dria, my lord.:

"Soundwave has been strangely insistent upon your arrival to earth. I assume you have quite a history."

Has Soundwave said anything?

Be honest, Ravage said. Always.

:Yes, my lord. We once worked on a project that was deemed unimportant.:

"And what project was this?"

::Do I...?::

::No.::

:It was a project meant to disarm and disrupt the enemy...It was a futile attempt to create chaos and crush the enemy from inside.:

"A spy."

:Yes, my lord.:

"And who was your advisor for this project?"

::If I say Soundwave-?::

::Megatron will talk with him.::

::Is that death?::

::For anyone else? Yes. For him? It's a warning.::

::And Soundwave...?::

::Never receives warnings.::

::Right...::

:No one, my lord. The enemy ambushed my clan and I. I seeked revenge for my clan's demise and I achieved it.:

"You said this project was futile."

:I caused chaos within their ranks. Soundwave intervened to tell me I was overstepping boundaries. I hereby withdrew from their ranks.:

"Have you intervened in their ranks since this project?"

:I observed them until I grew tired of their ways. I left their residence and have been searching for red energon, my clan's lifeblood for generations.:

"My SIC has been working to recreate the red energon formula for his own personal use. If you join my ranks, I will instruct him to redirect his sharings directly to you, and keep you updated on the process. In turn, you will report directly to Soundwave for any advisement. Once you perform a task, you will report to Soundwave for further orders. You are not to report to me on any circumstance unless it is ordered for you to do so from any superior on this ship. If we are all otherwise occupied, consider your agenda cleared for the amount of time it takes for our schedules to be opened proceeding any prior judgement. Do you agree to these terms?"

Something tells me I don't have a choice. :Yes, my lord.:

"Be mindful that very command comes directly from me. Do you have a problem with the way I run my ship, Dria?"

:No, sir.:

"I await your response to my original dictation."

:I will follow your every command to the letter, my lord.:

"Good. Soundwave." Soundwave's helm lifted slightly from Lillian's direction to Megatron's. "See to it that our...survailence assistant...is comfortable." Soundwave nodded.

Lillian stayed bowed even when Megatron left. :Sir, awaiting further command.:

:Dr-Dr-Dr-Dr-Drop the act, Dr-Dr-Dri-ia-Dr-i-i-i-ia.:

Lillian raised her helm at the remix. :Sir?:

:I know you have a voice. Use it. Or are you a-precious-purple-flower?:

Lillian's optics flashed as she stood. She stared directly into Soundwave's visor before placing her servo on her hip. "To what are you referring?"

:To what are you referring?:

"If this is about my past life-"

:If this is about my past life-:

"Are you mocking me?"

:Are you mocking me?:

Aw, she thought. So this is how he plays.

He is my creator, Ravage purred.

Of course.

Soundwave raised his servo and beckoned Ravage forward. Once Ravage was next to him, Soundwave's clawed hand reached into Lillian's neck cables. He pulled upward until she was hanging off the floor. "Observation: You are weak. Warning: I will not tolerate weakness. Ramble: If you slow me down, make a hasty judgement, disrespect anyone on this ship, do not follow orders to the letter, speak of your past to anyone but me or Ravage unless ordered otherwise or cleared passage, there will be consequences." :Verstehst du?:

:Verstehen Sie.:

:Good.: He let her go. "Designation: Ravage. Order: Connect."

Ravage looked up from where he was rubbing against Soundwave's leg, hesitated, then reconnected to Lillian's chest. She was upright automatically, ready for orders...sort of. "Designation: Dria. Interrogation: What is your mental and physical status? Do you object to Ravage being your partner? Do you object to Knockout being your mentor? Do you object to how Megatron commands his hierarchy? How is my bondmate?" The last question had Lillian's optics cycling. Blaster... "Warning: Lie to me and you will be terminated."

"I'm...sort of brain-dead at the-Ow!" Lillian rubbed her helm when Ravage hit her with his tail. ::After fifty years, you still suck.::

::Glad to hear it.::

::What'd I say?::

::Brain.::

:...what?::

::Did you forget that you're made of metal?::

::Sort of?::

::Hopeless.::

::Yup.::

"Let's just say that I'm not at the top of my game. I haven't had red energon in days. I'm probably going to be a zombie until I get it."

::Any protests?::

::We have zombies in the database, so no.::

::...seriously?::

::Why would I lie about that?::

"Considering my past, I do not object to Ravage being my partner...And I am in no position to judge Megatron and how he runs things." Even if I still think that he's a sick, twisted bastard for raping my phone and...the other things that Jazz briefly mentioned. Lillian's spark pulsed as she thought of Jazz and, by extension, Prowl. "As far as Knockout is concerned...I do not object so much as question the logic."

He nodded. "Status: Knockout, Breakdown, Rocca, Barricade, Soundwave, Ravage, and Frenzy are neutrals."

Lillian tilted her helm. "Rumble and Lazerbeak...?"

"Status: Decepticons. Reasurrence: Loyal to Soundwave."

"And Rocca would be...?"

"Status: Knockout and Breakdown's creation." :Watch it!:

Of course. "Your bondmate is...safe...last time I checked. He has...not been the same since his charge...my aunt...Sonya, died."

"Clarification: I am aware of the affiliation." He tilted his helm. "Observation: Your tone is lower when speaking of my bondmate and his charge. Personal Inquiry: Do you grieve their loss?"

"Why do you care?"

:Why do you care?:

"Because I can."

:Because I can.:

"Are you going to play all day?"

:Are you going to play all day?:

Lillian ex-vented heavily. Does he mean that or is he playing with my mind?

Both, Ravage said.

Right.

She saluted. :Sir, awaiting further orders.:

"Warning: Salute me again and you will be terminated. A salute is for an honorable profession. Decepticons are not honorable. We fight, kill, destroy, and torture. Any questions?"

Her optics cycled. :No, sir.:

"Warning: You are not to refer to be as sir."

She ex-vented. ::Jesus, this guy-::

::Primus.::

::Whatever. Former human. Get used to it.::

::I have one of the deadliest spies as a creator.:: Ravage said smugly. ::Get used to it.::

Lillian withheld an optic roll. "Inquiry: Designation?"

"Response: Soundwave. Warning: Mock me again and you will be terminated."

I have a feeling you're going to end up killing me at some point anyway. "Is there anything I can do or say that won't get me terminated?"

"Order: Say nothing unless ordered to. Follow all orders to the letter unless dismissed or dismantled."

She nodded. "I understand...Soundwave."

He nodded. "Order: Follow me and pay attention." Lillian followed him to one of the consoles in the room. "This is your work station. You will stay here unless you require medical grade. You are not to rest until your memory banks are filled will the knowledge of Cybertron history. Once your memory banks are fill, you are to report to my quarters for recharge, then return to this workstation once you have organized the previous information. This cycle will continue until you have retrieved, stored and filed every file on this database into your processor. When you have completed your task, you will report to me for the next order unless I am occupied." From the looks of things, you're always occupied. How am I supposed to know the difference between 'you have five seconds' and 'not now, not ever?' :Any questions?:

"I hate to be a brat...given my forseeable execution...but what about breaks?" Soundwave wacked Lillian on the helm with a tentacle. "Ow! I'm being serious!"

"Response: No breaks allowed. The sooner you upload these files, the later your execution date is set." :I'm being serious!: "Order: Start working. Warning: Ravage will inform me if you are slacking off or are otherwise deliberately ignoring your work. Inquiry: Do I make myself clear?"

Lillian ex-vented. "Yes, si-Soundwave."

He wacked Lillian again before returning to his work station. "Warning: Too close for comfort. Suggestion: Focus on your task."

"Yes, Soundwave."

He didn't respond. Lillian turned to the computer, selected the first file with Ravage's help, and began reading...after she translated the Cybertronian-Matrix-language on the screen into English.

~0~

Lillian stared at a place in history that was not hers to see. The images before her were scaled down, zoomed out and stretched so that she could see every detail. It wasn't meant to be a horror film. It was a part of their war.

Lillian knew what war was, but she didn't feel like she was in it. When she was human, she was a civilian. Even when Red Alert gave her clearance to walk around the Ark, she wasn't safe from her own species. Galloway tried to boot her from boot camp several times.

The only reason I was took in the back door to begin with is because I had two family members come through the front door. And again, I am being taken through the back door. Only, instead of seeing a storage closet of information organized into folders and alphabetical cabinets, I'm seeing the battlefield spilled onto the living room table like sour milk.

It was ugly and foul, but it was real. This was real history-not the niceties the autobots hinted at. They tell their human comrades that The War for Cybertron was horrible-too horrible to re-live by telling it.

Soundwave took off the blindfold, and I still feel like I'm blind.

Lillian waited for that sour milk that came out of the 'good for eternity' carton to spill onto the carpet. She waited for the war to sink into her processor. Even as Lillian was intently staring at the screen, what she was really doing was waiting for herself to react.

Megatron has his cannon pressed to the head of a maternal figure. She knew the figure was maternal because a sparkling-was screaming out for the figure. This is Megatron's democracy; this was his way of giving the autobots a chance to surrender. The next image shows the headless maternal figure on the ground. Blue energon gushes out of open lines, leaving a moist circle under Megatron's heel. Lillian searched for the helm.

She pause her search, trying to reflect on the fact that she was more interested in searching for the helm then the small, gray frame that used to be a sparkling. She went back to the sparkling. There were blue tears still visible on the helm. The helm is missing one fourth of its material. The frame was frozen during the decaying process. Lillian's built-in human-to-cybertronian translator informed her that this decaying process is known as cosmic rust. She stored this information in the file titled 'ways to die' and moved on. She found the helm.

She paused again. She stared at the helm. No visor. Gray metal. Female-

#Femme: A rare breed of Cybertronian. This breed was built by accident on the assembly line. Factory-Unknown. Creator code-Alpha. Creator-Alpha Trion.

Alpha Trion Historical Data: Once created in the Silver Age, this mech was sparked on-

Warning: Are you sure you wish to delete this sensitive material at this time-?

Update: Material deleted. Proceed with exploration of historical data.

Warning: Are you sure you wish to-?

Update: Translator disengaged for-

Warning: Are you-?

Update: Clock disabled.#

Still...waiting...

Scraps of metal are buried under rubble that were most likely caused by Rumble.

::Rumble needs a new hobby.:: Lillian ex-vented, exasperated at her own disregard for the 'horrors' of war. ::I've either developed a soul meant for S&M or I'm heartless.::

::Heartless.:: Ravage supplied. Lillian looked down at him. His tail wacked her helm so Soundwave wouldn't have to. ::You don't have a heart, remember?::

Lillian turned her attention back to the screen. ::No.::

::You have to learn to be Cybertronian. If you still think like a human, your glossa will slip when it is most important.::

::In front of Megatron.::

::Megatron doesn't give a scrap about human customs. Rumble, Frenzy and Knockout are human enough that a slip up around him does not-::

::Who am I concerned about then?::

::Starscream.::

Lillian raised an optic ridge. ::Who the hell-pit-worries about Starscream?::

::Exactly.::

She rolled her optics. ::I really don't see how-::

::Mute it and focus on your mate's decaying species.::

::Focus on my-?:: Her spark skipped an electromagnetic pulse. She could feel Ravage's smug demeanor as the images finally started to drip into her processor like a leaky faucet. What the fuck?

"Ravage: Deploy."

:Right away, sir.:

#Warning: Insufficient energy reserves to remain operational.#

Prowl...

#Survival protocol dictates emergency shutdown in 3...#

...was...

#...2...#

...the...

#...1.#

...child?

#Shutdown successful.#

~0~

Manual override.

System scan...

System status: REM.

Processor scan...Imaging acquired

Foreign operation status: Transmitting data

Designation: Prowl

Economy Status: Lower-Middle

Education: Starlock Academy

[It was the first day of spring. Prowl and his carrier-mother, Sozen, were strolling the streets. Based on the human calendar, Prowl was six. They had just picked up some pink flowers from Crystal City. But these weren't ordinary flowers. Each crystal that acted as a petal, when touched, would change color with the mood of its handler. They settled on a bench across from Prowl's favorite store-Creon's Flavor Arena. It was a place filled with excitement-and so Prowl's petals were green.

Younglings could come in without their creators, sit in a circle and watch a staged fight between two professionals. No weapons equaled no worries. Most carriers were hesitant when letting their young ones learn about the war. It was outside of their city. If it was up to them, no violent behavior would infect their children.

Sires-fathers were much more willing to let their children into the world of war. Prowl's sire, Aarius, encouraged Prowl's education. But since their unit-family was incapable of affording any formal education in a decent area, Aarius and Sozen agreed to let Prowl attend the occasional sparing session at Creon's. At least then, Aarius argued, Prowl would learn defensive maneuvers.

Sozen could only smile as Prowl showed off his skills that he had mirrored from the two most common attendant's of Creon's-Yoketron and Roadhandler. Sozen's petals were often yellow.

Two astroseconds later, the city siren's began to wail.

Sozen grabbed Prowl's servo and began to run, leaving the flowers on the bench in favor of finding shelter.

But no one would let them in, and they were too far from their apartment to run. They had taken the train into the city. Everything shut down once the sirens went off-including transportation.

"Zozi?" Prowl asked.

Sozen smiled down at her offspring. "Yes, Prowl?"

"Are we in tro'ble?"

Sozen got down on one knee. "No, Prowl. I'll make sure you get back to _."

"I wan' Aari."

Sozen kissed her son's forehelm. "He's always with you, sweetspark." Prowl looked confused. Sozen opened her mouth to explain when a cloud of rumble covered them.

Foreign operation status:

Skipping datafeed 3-14

Accessing datafeed 3-17

Prowl lay in the post-destruction of Crystal City in a state of shock. He was online, but-

Wait- Lillian started to shake. Why's Shockwave-? No. Nonono-

Shockwave opened up Prowl's back. He pulled a key-

#The Gene Key is a device that rewrites the Cybernucleic Acid of Cybertronians. Shockwave was given control over the device after its creator, Scorponok, joined the Quintessons. The Quintessons are an ancient race of mechanoids-#

I don't care about that! Tell Shockwave to get away from Prowl!

-out of his sub-space and reached inward. He inserted the Key into a slot on the outside of Prowl's spark chamber and-

"Lord Megatron, enemy ranks are fast approaching. What should I do with the specimen?"

Lillian ground her dental plating together. Specimen. I'll show you a slagging specimen-

"Leave him. We have caused enough damage for today." That's right, act like a slaggin' diplomat, asshole. "It would prove problematic to be caught at this time." I swear-I swear... The shaking died out as tears started falling. Prowl...

Prowl was found by the search and rescue team. He wasn't the same as before. His optics were gold instead of blue. He was cold in demeanor. He didn't have the same smile. He didn't smile, and it wasn't because he was traumatized. The device planted inside Prowl wiped his memory and reformatted his basic programming. Prowl's first memory, as a new creation, was of the search and rescue team.

He wasn't taken to an orphanage. He was taken to the Cyberninja Corps, per suggestion of a certain anonymous source.

You...Was it...?

After he had completed his training, he joined the police force in Petrex. He graduated to the Iaconian Mechaforensic Division. He met a cybertronian by the name of Orion Pax while investigating a case. Orion Pax became Optimus Prime. Prime forged the autobots from the ground up, starting with his old friend, Ratchet. Next came Prowl. Prowl suggested Jazz, a friend from the Cyberninja Corps. Jazz suggested Blaster, and then-]

End of transmission.

No, wait-

Data transmitted.

That can't be it!

Foreign operation status: Disengaged

Your the greatest spy the decepticons have ever had!

System scan...

You can't tell me that that's all you know!

System status: Rebooting in 3...2...1...

~0~

Lillian glared up at the ceiling. She used to think that the gods would stop laughing at her once she crossed over to the dark side. She was wrong.

Soundwave had her tangled into the straightest posture she was capable of presenting laying down...not that anyone would notice since she was buried under a mound of tentacles.

"You can let go now."

"Negative."

She seethed. "Seriously. This isn't necessary-"

:This is...necessary. Seriously.:

She huffed. "Can you at least tell me why your hugging me? This seems like uncharacteristic behavior."

:Don't worry, Lil. You'll feel the tentacle love when push comes to shove.: (BL)

Her optics cycled. ::Wait...he was serious?::

::Affirmative:: Ravage joked.

"What, do you have spy cameras on everyone?"

"Negative."

"Then how do you...? Nevermind. I don't want to know."

"Request acknowledged."

If Soundwave didn't have Lillian's arms and frame snuggled up in a ball of tentacles, she would have facepalmed. "This isn't funny, Soundwave. I'm uncomfortable. Can you let me go now? I thought you wanted me to do work." :Work 'til you drop!:

"Order: Completed." He let that sink in.

She rolled her optics. "Well I didn't think you meant literally."

"Idiocy of assistant acknowledged."

Lillian's seething sounded like the suction of an airlock or a pair of lips disconnecting from a much-desired bottle of water. "You're just doing this to torture me, aren't you?"

:Soundwave is...comfortable. Torture is...funny...and...necessary.:

"Why?"

:Mate rev-revelation related to...his-historical-cal d-d-da-a-ata required...emergency system shutdown.:

"You're just doing this to...comfort...me?"

"Idiocy of assistant acknowledged."

Lillian huffed as she laid her head down. It was useless fighting. She just never seriously considered-And still wouldn't. Soundwave would never be Blaster's replacement. Blaster. Lillian winced. Their last meeting hadn't been the greatest. Steeljaw. They both basically told her to buzz off. They were ticked, understandably, but-But she had been old and-And she shouldn't have had to-She didn't want them to suffer-And so-

::You were a wimp.:: Ravage said. ::Still are.::

::Is it so wrong that I didn't want them to suffer?::

::No.:: Ravage laid down beside her. ::You just did it wrong.::

::Like there's a right way to die.::

::There is.:: The way he said it...He sounded...serious. Serious and sure. ::You did it wrong.::

::How does one die, then?::

::To die with honor for most is to die on the battlefield. Those who are wimps should at least have the decency to die silently, in the middle of the night, without a crowd watching as their lights go out.::

::Touche.:: She thought about it. ::I died a coward, then.:: And a traitor, she remembered. That was what Red Alert had called her. A traitor to them-the cybertronians. They wouldn't even get into the human aspect.

::Yes.::

::Fine.::

::Fine?:: Ravage lifted his head to glare at her. His one red eye reminded her too much of Shockwave. ::What in the Pit-?::

::-is wrong with me?:: Lillian finished. She offlined her optics.

He huffed. ::Look-Don't go getting all wishy-washy. You're enough of a loser as is. Decepticons don't feel guilt.::

::I'm not a decepticon.::

::Well at this moment, I am, so-::

Soundwave lifted his helm to look at Ravage. Ravage jumped off the berth. ::Fine, fine. I'm leaving. Knock some sense into her.::

Ravage jumped in mid air as Soundwave smacked him. Lillian and Ravage looked at Soundwave, bewildered. :Knock some sense into her.:

Ravage growled and left. Lillian looked elsewhere when Soundwave looked at her. He let her look where she wanted. He untangled her from his mess and left her on the berth. It took a few minutes of silence, but she eventually snuggled close to him. He looked down at her.

"Don't get used to it," she grumbled. "I'm just cold."

:Get used to it.:

"You don't have to be an aft."

:Don't be an aft.:

Her optics leaked a small amount of red energon as she yawned. "Please," she whispered.

"Decepticons: Don't beg." Soundwave wrapped her up once more and pulled her closer. :Don't get used to it.:

She smiled. "Yes, Soundwave."

~0~

Lakendria ~ Dria ~ "Greatest Champion"