Yeah... so this chapter took way long. We had it written about a year and a half ago, probably more like three years, looked it over and found it was terrible. So cue the last MONTH of editing to get it into something readable. This chapter has BY FAR been the most problematic of all so far. I mean, I think we authors were to the point of tearing our hair out and snarling at each other furiously over the internet about how to fix it.

*gasps for air*

So here it is, the interlude in all its glory. Thank you so friggin' much to anyone who reviewed and whoever sent PM's lately. We need to be prodded in order to update sometimes, because, well. We do have lives, university, jobs, blah blah. And because sometimes editing this stuff isn't fun at all.

Anyways, this chapter has some explicit sexual content and violence!

Dead End slums, Polyhex. Last quarter of the Golden Age.

Puddles of dirty oil and diluted acid rain splashed underneath the youngling's pedes as he ran through the narrow streets.

"Can't run away forever!"

Three enforcers were chasing him, hot on his heels and eager to get their servos on him. He knew that he was on their blacklist but the chase had been going on for quite a while and usually, they would have given up by now. However, they were more relentless this time. The youngling doggedly tried to evade them as best as he could and though he knew the streets well…so did they. His body was already burning from exertion.

He was lucky that the ghetto's streets were riddled with deep potholes and various scrap metal from decaying buildings – there was no way for them to transform in that mess and he purposely led them in circles, deeper into the ghetto. They knew this too and when the first opportunity arose, one of them was able to transform. With a sudden burst of speed from his altmode, the enforcer surged towards the young mech he was chasing. The youngling couldn't jump away in time; he was practically bulldozed down by the enforcer's bumper and the impact had him skidding into a wall.

Primus, that hurt.

The youngling had no time to waste. Not with two of the enforcers advancing towards him. He kicked one long leg out so he could throw himself back onto his pedes. Pain exploded down his back from where it had been scraped badly, but he ignored it and used the stinging sensation to fuel him onward.

"Grab him!"

One of the enforcers lurched forward, arms outstretched to nab him but the young mech ducked and sprinted out from the gap between their bodies.

The chase began anew.

He passed mechs he knew and though they did look up at the heated chase, they didn't lift a servo to help him. No one wanted to mess with the enforcers and really, the sight was nothing new. The youngling spied his opportunity when he caught a glimpse of a low, under hanging pipe protruding from one of the buildings. With outstretched arms, he leapt high in the air and got a good grip on the pipe. It creaked dangerously and the layer of acid-water on it scalded his palms. But the mechling didn't let that stop him. He heaved himself up over it with surprisingly agile movements that belied his waif-like body and pulled himself up onto a ledge.

The enforcers had stopped right beneath him and they were cursing loudly. One of them attempted to climb up as well, but the rusted out pipe just snapped in his hands. The mechling didn't bother to look down. He wobbled dangerously as he put one of his narrow pedes in front of the other and followed the ledge around the building. He could hear the general bustle of the mechs around him and the enforcers scuttling on the ground, trying to see where he was going just to catch him out.

There wasn't really anywhere for the mechling to escape. He tried to jump over onto the next building but his body seized the moment he leapt off the edge, making him tragically miss the handhold he was supposed to grab onto.

The height he fell from wasn't much, but he was a slum mech with a malnourished and inferiorly-built frame that was already succumbing to its injuries. He gave a high-pitched shriek of agony and static and felt something inside him shift that shouldn't have. This time, the mechling was unable to get up fast enough to escape and his spark sank with defeat when he heard the enforcers' pedes thunder down the street.

"Runt!" one of them yelled out, quickly spotting him.

"Did nowt wrong!" the mechling protested, crying out as he was grabbed by the arm and restrained.

"Sure ya didn't. Innocent and all that slag, right?" another enforcer mocked, and he elicited a laugh from his colleagues.

"What's this one called? These Empties all look the fraggin' same to me," asked the second mech of the enforcer group.

"Soundwave," replied the enforcer who had a hold on him. "Gives us more trouble than what he's worth, lil' thief."

The enforcer who had asked just snorted, wholly unimpressed. "Never thought a stupid minibot would give the department this much trouble."

"Nah, he ain't a minibot. He's just short!"

There was a loud guffaw and Soundwave yipped with distress as the enforcer shook him violently. Then the one who had been staring at him tilted his helm to the side and made a contemplative sound.

"Still…not a bad looking one. You know…being one of them," he said.

Soundwave clenched his denta. He knew where this was going. It wasn't the first time and certainly wouldn't be the last. Unkind fingers gripped him by the chin, forcing him to look up. The enforcer smirked.

"Love the optics."

The third enforcer who stood off by the entrance of the alley scoffed. "They all got the same damn orange optics down here at Dead End."

"Nah, his are different. Strange shape to them."

"You mean glitched. Look at 'em. One's lighter than the other."

One of the enforcers – Soundwave couldn't separate them anymore, not with the pain that was slowly eating him inside out – flicked a finger at his optical covering. The action wasn't hard enough to add any more cracks to its already damaged surface, but it reverberated straight to his cpu like a hammer smashing down onto him.

"Done nowt wrong," the mechling repeated desperately, trying to shake off the hand that kept touching his face. "Done now—kzzt—" His defective vocaliser sputtered out with a hiss of static, leaving him mouthing into the open air.

The enforcer that had the hand on Soundwave's face just smirked nastily. "Glitched vocaliser too? Even better. Pretty lips like yours should be kept busy with other tasks."

The enforcer standing by the alleyway entrance took a step forward. "You're not seriously gonna…?" The red light of his visor settled onto Soundwave with an expression of plain disgust. "Aren't ya 'fraid of catching cosmic rust?"

"Nah, you can tell if they got cosmic rust or not."

Soundwave's mouth trembled and he could feel his tank almost physically drop to the ground from despair. The pain from his injuries was even more acute now; the abrasions on his outer plating stung badly, further emphasised by the heat emanating from the mech who continued to restrain him. The injury within his internals was throbbing unpleasantly, almost in tune with his wildly pulsing spark.

There was a horrible pressure within Soundwave's helm, as if it was being squeezed by a giant hand. The youngling could feel it roaring dully through the tubing that fed his cpu chip, and he didn't know what it was demanding from him.

'Hope the fragger catches a virus.'

The sullenly-spoken words came from the enforcer who had expressed his revulsion, obviously addressing the mech who was groping Soundwave. There was no answer and it took Soundwave a few moments to realise that the reason to that was because the enforcer never actually spoke. Soundwave had heard it all in his head.

Soundwave began to squirm when the hands migrated down to his thighs. What had been one thought quickly multiplied into several others and none of them were actually coming from him. He knew what the three enforcers were thinking about; he could practically hear their synapses firing electrical information from one channel to the next. It hadn't been the first time he could hear thoughts from others, and it was unfortunate because his newfound ability would often leave him incapacitated and overwhelmed with a splitting processor ache.

'Bet he's a nice tight fit.'

'Oh hurry up. I ain't got all cycle just to watch you fuck that piece of scrap.'

'I want a go after this.'

Then one thought stood out like an obnoxious neon sign.

'Gonna need to kill the runt after this. Don't want the whole thing coming back to bite me on the aft afterwards.'

Panic consumed Soundwave and he screamed, "No!"

He wasn't sure what had happened after that. His vision had completely blacked out and he vaguely recalled experiencing a painful sensation of release. The pressure that had been accumulating inside his head was gone, leaving behind an unpleasant emptiness. He found himself no longer held, but instead sprawled out on the unforgiving ground.

Soundwave onlined his optics.

All three enforcers were seemingly unconscious, sprawled out along with him. He knew this because he could still feel their energy fields weakly radiating around their bodies. There was even a servo twitching on the mech nearest to him and he was producing a low hum of static.

Unlike the voices he that he began to hear in his head, this was new. Soundwave didn't pause to think about it. He scrambled up to his pedes and managed to stand up just briefly before his legs gave way, sending him clunking back down. With much more slower movements, Soundwave tried to stand up a little more carefully. He half-stumbled and half-crawled towards each fallen enforcer so that he could rid them of their possessions; after all he wasn't one to waste an opportunity like that.

He left the weapons well alone – they all contained tracking chips – but quickly gobbled up the two energon-bars that he found. He was even lucky to find a good amount of credits between the three mechs. One of them even had a small electro-blade and as much as he wanted to take it, he couldn't. Who knew if it was tagged or not.

Without wanting to push his luck, Soundwave scurried away.

The door had a plaque engraved with the universal symbol of one offering medical services. When it slid open, a slender green-plated femme with sharp features and dark red optics stepped out. She immediately scowled at the sight of Soundwave.

"My services are not free," she said. "Aren't there any service centres down at your district? Go there."

Soundwave couldn't take his chances there. Not only were they underfunded and short-staffed, they were also monitored by the enforcers.

"I can pay," he hastily offered with a vocaliser that she could easily tell was faulty.

The medic scrutinised him heavily. She could barely tell what colour he was supposed to be, though he did appear to be in somewhat better shape than most Empties she'd encountered.

"Youngling, you need a complete overhaul. I doubt what you have can cover a check-up let alone anything else," she haughtily retorted.

He became desperate when he saw her arm move up towards the door's console. "Please!" he cried out imploringly and his hands shook as he held out the credits he had pilfered earlier for to see. "Mercy, marra…!"

"I'm not your marra," she snapped.

Nevertheless, she paused when she saw the amount of credits he was offering. It was enough to cover not one, but two medical check-ups. She sighed and beckoned him inside. The mechling's bright orange optics lit up with surprise and he followed her into the medbay.

"You're not supposed to be in this sector so let's get one thing straight." The femme medic glanced at him with narrowed optics to make sure that he wasn't doing anything he shouldn't. "I don't trust you lot. Once I'm done, you're out of here. Yes?" But before he could answer, she gestured at the examination berth. "Sit. Let's get this over and done with."

Undeterred by her open hostility, Soundwave hoisted himself up onto the berth and watched expectantly as she wheeled a diagnostics unit over to him. It began to beep continuously the moment she hooked it up to the port at the back of his neck column. The medic made a low hum at the back of her vocaliser as she studied the long scrolling list that unit displayed.

"My, my…absolutely deplorable," she murmured with the sort of tone that suggested she didn't care either way.

Soundwave had no idea what 'deplorable' meant, but the mechling somehow knew that it wasn't good.

"Can ye fix me?" he tentatively asked and rubbed over the thin plating of his abdomen. "Hurts here."

"No doubt. You'll have to open up. I can't ascertain what's wrong with you – not with the corrupt values I'm getting here on the unit."

He frowned, not understanding what she wanted him to do. "Open…?"

"Your chestplates. I need to check your internals," she explained impatiently.

Oh. He leaned back onto the berth and reluctantly parted his chestplates. He was more wary than embarrassed at exposing such a vulnerable area of himself to a complete stranger. She deftly pushed aside one of the plates that refused to open all the way and peered into the open workings of his torso.

"Your main fuel pump has detached from its mount and it's digging into the surrounding protoform, which explains the stabbing pain you're feeling. Your frontal coolant pipe has split –"

The medic poked at something inside him that made him wince.

"—that will need to be changed," she blithely continued. "What's more, I can see a small tear on the side of your secondary fuel tank. That will have to be patch welded. These are the main injuries – there's lots more but they're non-life threatening and besides…you can't afford it."

"Okay," he said and stared up at her.

"Good."

She stepped back, turning towards the bench where most of her tools were located. A loud crash had her whirl around on her pedes with a shout, ready to kick the young slum mech out of her medbay. Soundwave had huddled up into a ball on examination berth, accidently kicking the diagnostics unit and sending it up against the wall on its wheeled base.

"What's wrong?" she demanded.

His orange optics flickered with fear and he pointedly stared at the tool she was holding in one hand. It was a medium-sized grinder. Realisation dawned on her; chassis parts were such a commodity in the Dead End slums that Empties often resorted to cannibalising each other's frames just to get by.

The femme placed the grinder away with a frown. "I'm not going to use this. I was just putting it away."

Soundwave's shoulders slumped with relief. But his gaze continued to follow her every movement and step with the uneasiness of a jittery creature just waiting to bolt at the first sign of danger. Wordlessly, she set the tray of tools next to his berth and with a sharp gesture of her small hand, had him lay back properly onto it.

"You have a choice," she stated. "You either get anaesthesia to dampen your sensors or a fuel top up. Energon don't come cheap and you haven't paid enough for both."

His decision wasn't very difficult. "To—kzzttt-!"

The femme rolled the light in her optics at his malfunctioning vocaliser and with an annoyed sound, reached over and jammed her fingers into the exposed space between his neck struts. Soundwave jerked when he felt her tweak a wire that made him feel more violated than it should have.

"Try again," she instructed after pulling her servo away.

"Top up," he said.

She grunted, satisfied for the time being. "Static's still there but for now it's more than enough."

In the end, she had his main motor controls disabled so that he wouldn't jolt during the surgery. And Primus, did it hurt. He clenched his denta and stared wildly at the ceiling as she none-too-gently pushed his pump back into its correct place. When it came to welding the tear in his tank, his optical feed almost shorted out at the burn that had his circuits screaming in pain. Replacing the coolant pipe was an almost pleasant procedure in comparison.

"I'm surprised," the medic abruptly remarked as she connected the nozzle of an external fuelling dispenser directly into his tank. "Your lasercore is recessed too deep into your chassis. At first, I thought it was because the mountings of your cradle had degenerated from your poor health but I was wrong. The framework of your cradle is articulated. First time I've ever seen this. What's the purpose of his modification?"

He was still recovering from the surgery and barely managed to focus his optics onto her. "Ne'er modified…"

Now she just looked baffled and turned her attention back onto the diagnostics unit that was still plugged into him. Her thin mouth pursed into a confused pout when she inputted a different command into the unit's control panel to bring up a different set of readings. But it wasn't long before her expression smoothed out into something else completely.

"Tell me…you been noticing anything weird going on with your head lately?" she asked idly.

"Yeh," he affirmed with his crude dialect, sitting up a bit straighter now that he was feeling much better with the fresh fuel and repairs. "Lotsa buzzing. Too much buzzing. Hear lotsa talking."

"Talking?"

"From others."

"Mechs around you?"

"Yeh."

The femme didn't ask any other questions but merely tapped the tip of her finger against the diagnostics unit before she took a step backwards.

"I need to get something from my office. Wait here and don't move until I come back – I don't need you ripping out the pipe and wasting all that energon all over the floor."

She barely saw him nod, pivoting around to briskly walk out of her small medbay and straight into her even smaller office. She tried turning on her main communications console and when it didn't boot properly, she gave it a vicious kick. It booted the second time around. First she accessed an online database and her optics became brighter and brighter the more she read. Then with a few typed commands, the femme scrolled through a short contact list and selected one of the designations so that she could patch a call.

"C'mon…answer me you piece of slag," she snarled underneath her breath.

A gruff mech voice finally answered. "What the pit do you want, Tappet?"

She skipped the pleasantries completely. "You still do business with that slimy cabaret owner?"

The mech on the other end immediately became suspicious. "Why y'ask?"

"Because I think I got something he'll be interested in buying and I want a good cut from it."

Now he sounded interested. "Oh?"

"A rare frame-type. Rarest of the rare." She lowered her voice. "I got a Cassette-carrier in my medbay as we speak."

"Eh?"

Tappet glanced over her shoulder, looking through the glass window that allowed her to see what was going on in her medbay. The young slum mech was still on the berth.

"Cassette carrier. Telepaths," she whispered hurriedly, turning back towards her console. "They carry symbiotes. Rumoured to be fertile as femmes and aggressive as Seekers. Like femmes, they have to be conceived by spark merge. And you wanna know what the best part of it is?"

"What?"

"He's a crummy Empty," Tappet excitedly informed him.

In other words, he wouldn't be missed.

"I'll be right there. Keep him occupied."

The femme smirked. "No problem."

They ended the call. Tappet stood up and left her office. She nearly collided into Soundwave, who wasn't waiting on his berth anymore like she had commanded. He had apparently disconnected the cables from his body himself and shut his chestplates.

"Did I not tell you not to move?" she snapped.

He gazed at her with flat, orange optics and belatedly she realised what it meant being around a telepath, especially if you were planning on selling said telepath to a slave trader. She swore out loud and reached up, ready to grab an EMP device off the counter next to her. But she wasn't fast enough; Soundwave had already decapitated the femme with her own plasma-cutter before driving the tool into her breastplate, straight through her spark.

Soundwave wrenched the plasma-cutter out and feverishly looked around before he spotted the energon storage tank. He rushed over and quickly guzzled down as much as his systems could hold. He pushed the trigger back and let the energon drain onto the floor, then activated the plasma-cutter and set it a good distance away. The lit end sizzled against the floor and Soundwave ran out of the building as quickly as he could before the complex exploded.

Kaon, half a vorn (41.5 years later) later.

Shockwave stared outside the shuttle window, his hand idly tapping over a button on the console in front of him. His singular yellow optic surveyed the landscape and surface structure of the city as it passed below him. Plumes of smoke rose from various parts of the southern sector with visible fires, and along with heavily overtaxed airways and road system, the city looked like an overpopulated bar fight.

Kaon was in even worse shape than what was being portrayed by the media.

The shuttle vibrated as the engines started to power down in preparation for landing. From the vantage point of his commanding seat, Shockwave turned to gaze long at the shuttle's pilot – a young clone he had manufactured. Clones were the best kind of soldiers, but there was much improvement to be made. Hence the current trip to Kaon – a place he would never willingly go unless there was a business transaction to be made.

Gears and metal squealed as the landing bars descended, and giant puffs of steam rolled past the windows as the hydraulics slowly lowered them down to the ground. The clone, a seeker shape, looked back up to Shockwave after completing his task.

"Good work, clone," Shockwave said shortly.

"Sir," the clone's smooth voice replied, and he gave a short nod of his helm. "What shall I do next, sir?" he asked.

"You will accompany me as my guard," Shockwave stated. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," the clone answered back and stood up.

The shuttle now had landed and stabilized, so Shockwave pressed a button on the clear topped console, engaging the opening for the ramp. Shockwave stood up, his left hand held stiffly at his side while his other, his normal hand swung with his motions. He slowly descended down the ramp's metal grate, his steps loud.

His clone carefully followed, alert of the environment around him while still remaining a respectable distance from Shockwave.

At the bottom Shockwave stopped, gazing up at the dark grey sky. Particles of ash floated down, covering their armour in a light dust.

Looting and burning was becoming more and more common.

The docking port for this particular place was circular, open to the skies above, while various doors went inside the complex. Shockwave analyzed the structure for a moment until a small, greasy looking mech approached. He was rubbing his hands together and wore an insipid smile on his face.

"Shockwave, sir," he purred in a dark baritone, his red optics winking mysteriously.

When Shockwave's optic settled on him, the mech breathed loudly and motioned with his hands.

"Aaa this way sir," he said, taking up a place in front of the purple-plated mech, looking back to make sure he was following.

The short dirty mech typed in a code for one of the doors and stepped aside, making it obvious that he wasn't going to go with them. Shockwave stepped inside and his clone followed. Further across a hall, another mech stood waiting for Shockwave. He was young, tall and somewhat attractive for the deplorable condition his blue and white plating was in.

Suddenly Shockwave felt the volatile energy of telepathy and he squared his shoulders and threw up a strong mental barrier in his mind. Shockwave stared intently at the young blue and white mech in front of him, mustering up his own energy field to be a massive imposing force that blanketed his mind and body like an impenetrable wall.

"Direct me to your master, youngling."

The young mech balked when Shockwave spoke – whether it was from his large, rather intimidating form and lack of an identifiable faceplate, the fact that his telepathy had been effortlessly blocked or a combination of both factors. A heavy burst of grating static emanated from his vocaliser before the actual words were heard, "Yous two need to be sear—"

The mech who had met them outside poked his helm in through the still-open doorway. "They're good, kid. Long-term, esteemed customers of the boss'," he quickly interrupted before directing an apologetic look towards Shockwave. "Sorry sir, new help these days, ya see."

The youngling pursed his full mouth, appearing wary and troubled and though his optical band was an obscure yellow, one could almost see the optics behind narrowing. But he just nodded and jerked his helm at Shockwave and the clone dutifully standing behind him. "Sure. Follow me, marra."

He led them out of the small entrance they had been confined in and through thick doors into the complex inside. Heavy machinery noises and various clanks of metal striking against metal and gears rotating against each other filled the area. Containers surrounded them, stacked upon each other, and to the left ran a long conveyer belt, transporting the heavier containers to be loaded up onto the top levels via powerful automated arms for shipping. The youngling continued to walk, and occasionally, he'd glance over his thinly-plated shoulder to cast more mistrustful looks at Shockwave following him. Once again, his mind surged forward to the newcomer like a probe; though more tentative this time.

It was blocked.

"Through here," the youngling said when they reached a secluded corridor and an office door as he continued to suspiciously glare at Shockwave.

He inputted several number glyphs into the control pad located on the wall and the door obediently slid open, his blue hands impatiently gesturing Shockwave and the clone to enter. Inside, the boss stood up from where he had been sitting at the table. He was a tall mech with a burgundy paintjob and two distinct audio horns protruding from his helm.

"Shockwave! It's a real pleasure," the boss greeted loudly – twisting his hands together in a complicated gesture of welcome that those of Kaon observed. "I trust ya arrived here with no issues?"

Shockwave's vocaliser fizzed softly before he replied. "It was fine, Landbreaker."

Shockwave's optic passed over the room and landed on the amateur telepath who was awkwardly standing close to the door.

'Does he use you?'

Soundwave tensed when he caught Shockwave's thought. Landbreaker shared a suspicious look with the youngling, who merely shook his head and shrugged.

"I've come to gather some unusual items and I wanted to make sure they shipped safely," Shockwave finally said. "As well as negotiate the price."

Landbreaker nodded and motioned with his hands. The two mechs sat down at one of the tables. The clone that was following Shockwave stood stiffly behind him, gazing at nothing.

"Sit down, clone," Shockwave murmured with a wave of his arm.

The clone nodded and did so, his wings flaring upwards as he sat down. Though the Seeker was only mildly attractive, he was big and intimidating with a few obvious signs of being armed. Landbreaker's red optics narrowed with distrust at the sight of him.

"Come now, Shockwave, after so many transactions with me, why do you insist on bringing that thing?" Landbreaker's denta gleamed in the light as his smile widened. "I thought we've moved past that…stage." His helm jerked, motioning to the lanky mech still hovering at the doorway. "Soundwave," he called out sharply.

Soundwave silently obeyed Landbreaker's command and walked past Shockwave – though he kept his distance from the clone – to stand by his boss' side. Landbreaker pushed his chair back to display an image of relaxed confidence; however whether that was for show in the presence of a powerful client was yet to be seen.

Soundwave's mouth tightened.

"Would you care for some refreshments before we start? I've gotten my servos on some special brew straight from Praxus. Very expensive stuff."

"No, I am fuelled to optimal levels," Shockwave replied, setting one arm on the table. "You should know that I always bring a guard with me. This one is being tested in a more interactive environment. Depending on the results, I'll know whether to scrap him or not," Shockwave replied, his voice taking a pitch of annoyance.

"Ah, of course, of course," Landbreaker amended, though he looked like he hardly believed the explanation. "Well, I could always use extra muscle around here. If you're lookin' to get rid of him, I'll take him. Provided he's generally functional. I don't need 'em to talk, just need 'em to know when to shoot."

"Would you be willing to sell this one?" Shockwave suddenly asked, turning the conversation around entirely as he pointed at Soundwave. "He is quite attractive," Shockwave finished.

Soundwave's mouth twisted into a scowl at Shockwave's words and Landbreaker's benign expression slid from his broad face like oil on a flat plane.

"I'm afraid this one's not for sale," he said curtly and as he spoke, he reached up with big hand to cup Soundwave's aft possessively. Then he laughed, loudly and smacked the mech's posterior hard. The sound of it rang throughout the room. "What can I say…my lil' assistant here is good at what he does."

"I can imagine," Shockwave replied with his yellow optic staring right at Soundwave. "Anyway," his cool voice pressed on. "I do think you know what I've come for, but I shall reiterate."

Here Shockwave's personal interest in the entire meeting seemed to grow as he took out a small device and pressed a button. A small holographic replica of a spark chamber popped up.

"With these I'll be able to learn more about inner workings and sparkling development. Along with many medical uses and perhaps...further uses to aid the future war effort," he said before shutting the hologram off with a snap. "So I'm curious as to how many you've got around…I'll also be interested in any slaves you would be willing to get rid of. I have need of some. And of course, I am sure I will continue my business with you, depending on the final results I achieve with merchandise."

With one hand still resting on his assistant's pert aft, Landbreaker fell silent for a brief contemplative moment. "I've gotten a…fair amount, just as you've requested. Most are from stragglers that no one will miss. However…" Landbreaker picked up a cube he had been sipping from earlier and finished what was left in it before speaking again. "I've managed to acquire a few from …higher end mechs from the delta-3 quadrant. Better built ones. And one of those sparks comes from a femme. You'll understand that my prices for those particular sparks will be higher. It was hard work for ya getting them, wasn't it Soundwave?"

Soundwave glanced down, appearing a little tense standing there next to his boss. "Yeah, it was, mar—" Before he could finish his sentence, his vocaliser fritzed out completely and his mouth pulled into a painful grimace.

"And if Shockwave here agrees to my generous price listing," Landbreaker continued with a growing smile. "We'll be able to get that problematic vocal-box of yers fixed. Maybe you'll be a bit more enjoyable in the berth after that, hmm?"

This time, Soundwave's hips jerked again when Landbreaker slapped his aft again and the scowl on the visored faceplates deepened further. But Landbreaker paid no heed to that. Instead, he scribbled down several glyph numbers onto an empty datapad resting on the desk next to him.

"This is my asking price, along with the other smaller items you wanted," Landbreaker said, pushing the datapad towards Shockwave. "Whaddaya say?"

Shockwave manoeuvred the datapad towards himself with his one hand so he could look at it. With no facial plates it was impossible to tell what he thought of the offer.

"Unacceptable," Shockwave replied, sliding the datapad back. "And I'll like to see them before I agree to anything. Hopefully they're stored correctly and undamaged," he said blandly.

'Why are you here with this mech?' Shockwave suddenly projected within his mind.

Soundwave had heard his thoughts once again. The dark helm tilted towards Shockwave's direction and the visor flared ever so slightly in response. Soundwave's answer was a little sharp and defensive, even through the direct telepathy. 'Non' of ye bus'ness marra.'

Landbreaker was unaware of the contact between his assistant and Shockwave and merely leaned forward, arranging his fingers into a steeple. "Tough times, Shockwave. I can't afford to go cheap y'know. And you know that my products are always of the most utmost quality and always reach you in good condition. I do have a reputation to hold."

"I refuse the offer," Shockwave said flatly. "Your reputation means nothing to me."

This time, one of Landbreaker's antennas twitched and his red optics flickered upwards, towards Soundwave who stared down at him steadily. Then, they both focused their attention back onto Shockwave.

"What if…" Landbreaker began. "What if I throw in another incentive into the package? I can spare a slave or two to sweeten the deal. Good hardy slaves too. One of them could be a femme if ya like that sort of thing. Got a pretty pink thing with big blue optics from the Tyger Pax region that I wouldn't mind…uh parting with. Would that be to yer liking?"

Soundwave's telepathy returned, an unobtrusive but still amateur presence probing experimentally at Shockwave's mind. Waiting perhaps for a stray thought or even a reaction that the one-optic'ked faceplate was incapable of showing.

Shockwave contemplated the offer while his irritation grew with each gentle prod Soundwave made on the brick wall guarding his thoughts.

'You shouldn't be here,' was Shockwave's reply. 'You have the potential to be more powerful than you've ever thought possible.' Shockwave's yellow optic switched from staring at Landbreaker to Soundwave for another moment. 'You have the potential to be one of the most powerful mechs on this planet.'

"The femme would work quite well, but only if she is has not mated. Otherwise she would be useless," Shockwave replied, pulling the datapad back towards himself for a second time. He looked over the price and details one last time before he accessed his account, providing his personal code and several other security measures to submit the final payment.

Landbreaker nodded, his grin too large to be innocent. "Oh, she's got no bondmate. That I know for a fact."

"Hopefully we'll be able to do more business before Cybertron falls into turmoil," Shockwave answered.

Soundwave obligingly took a step back as Landbreaker pushed his chair back and stood up with a soft whine of gears. The glee was visible on the burgundy-plated mech's faceplates; it was, after all, quite a hefty sum of credits. "You won't be disappointed Shockwave," he said, sounding very pleased. "But you did want to see the goods and I won't deny you that."

The wall behind the large desk was plain, with a large seam running from ceiling to floor. A scanner and keypad lay embedded to one side, much more sophisticated in comparison to the one outside. Landbreaker turned towards it and lazily punched in a few commands to activate it. The scanning equipment was quite thorough – passing over a beam of flickering light to read the personal signature of his systems and spark energy and when it verified his identity, the wall next to him parted with a low, heavy whine and a hiss of pressurized air.

Landbreaker opened his mouth to further elaborate but his optics abruptly darkened and he covered one of his antennas, evidently receiving a transmission from outside the room. Almost simultaneously, one of the worker mechs burst into the office. He was covered from helm to pede in soot and dust; rendering the original colour of his plating unknown.

"I told ya to keep a closer look on that crane," Landbreaker snarled before his subordinate could speak.

The worker looked flustered and quite distressed. Energon was splattered all over his chestplates. "Boss, the thing just went wild! Took a mech's arm clean off! Ya gotta come and shut the machine down. We dun know the pass codes!"

Whatever smug satisfaction that was on Landbreaker's face early had been wiped clean off. His optics darted from Soundwave to Shockwave, rested momentarily onto the Seeker clone and then back to Shockwave.

"My apologies, Shockwave. As you can see, I'm surrounded by incompetent idiots and I'm needed elsewhere. I'm sure Soundwave can be of assistance instead. In the meantime, once I've sorted out this current mess, I'll send out someone to pick up the goods for you and personally pack up the femme slave for shipping myself." He paused before adding as an afterthought. "Untouched of course. Like we agreed."

Landbreaker suddenly grabbed Soundwave's arm to pull him close. Soundwave's visor brightened at the intense gaze Landbreaker was giving him and whatever he saw in his boss's narrowed optics…or read in Landbreaker's mind had Soundwave nod quickly and look away. Satisfied, Landbreaker released him and addressed Shockwave, that oily business smile back on his face.

"Remember, I trust you not to do anything I wouldn't uh…approve of. But you're a professional, like I am. We wouldn't want to ruin this partnership of goodwill, now would we?" Landbreaker purred out to Shockwave.

With that, he inclined his helm at Shockwave and followed the worker out of the office. The door clicked shut, leaving Shockwave and the clone alone with Soundwave.

"This way," Soundwave said, and his voice trembled a little, perhaps from fear or from anger…the damaged vocaliser made it hard to tell. He turned into the doorway leading to Landbreaker's storage vault.

"You're afraid of me," Shockwave cut in as he stood up, staring at the doorway where Landbreaker had disappeared.

Soundwave stiffened at the words but he remained silent.

"That is a good thing. You recognize your new master deep down in your spark, even if you will not admit it to yourself," Shockwave said out loud, gesturing for his clone to follow. "Your potential is wasted here, Soundwave, with lowly mechs like Landbreaker."

Soundwave didn't reply and continued his short trek down the hallway. Shockwave followed and went through the doorway, padding along behind the telepath. Then, Soundwave stopped suddenly and his helm snapped back at Shockwave. The hands by his side unclenched and clenched periodically.

"Look marra. Here: fuel and safety. Do ye wanna—" A heavy layer of static, "—see them sparks, yay or nay?"

"Sparse fuel, by the look of you. And yes I'd like to see them," Shockwave responded. "But I reiterate... you could be so much more."

The youngling's plain visor brightened and his helm whipped forward, as if what Shockwave said burned him. As they reached the end of the corridor, he waved at a motion-sensitive panel and the area around them was illuminated from the lights above. Landbreaker's storage area consisted of a row of locked metal crates and on the walls, there were racks upon racks of weapons. The sparks Shockwave was to buy were laid in the middle, ready to be inspected. They were housed in slim, independently powered canisters that had a single green light upon them to indicate the sparks' status.

"Ye can open them up since ye paid," Soundwave shrugged. He stood at the far end of the room, away from Shockwave and close to the wall.

The canisters held Shockwave's interest now. He pressed a small button on the top, where the lid depressurized and slid back to reveal a brightly pulsing spark within a clear glass lasercore. It was beautiful, and he took a moment to appreciate it before snapping the top back shut.

"They are in very nice condition," he remarked.

"Sure they are, marra," Soundwave huffed. "I got 'em myself."

Shockwave tilted his helm up slightly, regarding the other mech coolly. "You have stated that several times."

At the last container, he finally found the femme's spark, and gazed long at it. The outside was an attractive white, while the inner energy was a dark blue. They swirled and clashed together, indicating her spark was on its mating cycle.

"Everything appears to be in order," Shockwave finally said, straightening up.

Soundwave's mouth twisted to one side in contemplation as he regarded Shockwave. He quietly walked past Shockwave and peered down the corridor as if expecting unwanted company. But when he saw the Shockwave's clone still guarding the outside, where the office was, he turned his helm slightly. His words were quiet, an almost whisper. "When ye said you could offer me more…what'd ye mean?"

Shockwave slowed, his arms resting at his sides. "You could be a part of something much greater than this. The strongest mechs on Cybertron are gathering to establish a faction. We will have need for a highly trained intelligence officer."

A loud, mocking exhale of air left Soundwave's vents. "Ye know what I am, don'ye marra?"

"Yes," Shockwave replied. "You are a lacklustre telepath with horrible skills, in poor nutritional health, and your accent and way of speaking hurt my audios."

"Fuck ye," Soundwave hissed waspishly. "Fuck ye with a rust pole." He ripped the visor from his faceplates with a loud click of unsnapping clips, exposing his low lineage by the color of his optics. "This…what I have now is the best I can hope fer." The thick, derisive emotion caused Soundwave's malfunctioning vocaliser to crackle horribly, the static buzzing out unhealthily and he winced with pain, optics flickering. Soundwave's hand slapped over his throat and when he recovered, his voice was hoarse and barely audible.

"Ye experiment with sparks," Soundwave continued to croak. "Ye just gonna experiment wit' mine. M'lucky Landbreaker doesn't know my frame type…or my type of spark."

"Why would I bother? Currently you're in no condition. If I wanted you for your spark, I would have already had you seized."

Shockwave stepped around him, prodding his clone on the shoulder with his cannon arm.

"Let's go."

As the clone pivoted on its thrusters, Shockwave seemed to change his mind. He turned back one more time towards Soundwave, his hand disappearing into his subspace. "If you have the courage…come find me." Like an afterthought, he tossed a shiny purple sigil at the mech's pedes. "That'll tell you where to go."

Landbreaker's booming voice sounded through the corridor. "You're happy with the merchandise then?"

He was flanked by two worker mechs and with a quick gesture, Landbreaker had them carefully pick up the canisters. Soundwave snapped the visor back onto his face before he quickly swiped the sigil off from the floor before anyone could notice, and curled his fingers around it to hide it.

"Yes. The product is in excellent condition," Shockwave responded.

"I'll have these taken to your shuttle along with the other things you ordered. Your… ah, new slaves are waiting for you there." Landbreaker's grin widened. "They are very obedient."

Soundwave shot Shockwave one last venomous glare. He shoved the sigil underneath the plating of his thigh – for he lacked a subspace – and followed the others out.

Soundwave walked through the corridor and buzzed himself back through his boss' door. He slipped through the office's doorway and stopped before Landbreaker's large desk, rubbing once at the starkly-showing cables of his throat to soothe the ache.

"He's gone," Soundwave stated. "Ye need me for anything else, boss?"

Landbreaker had made his way back to his desk and he kicked his pedes up. "What the slag did he tell you?" Landbreaker growled, the dermal metal of his face stretched tightly over his lips. "You couldn't even find out what he was thinking? The fuck doesn't even have a face and only has one optic. You're falling behind, Soundwave. Don't make me ration your energon again."

Soundwave's posture immediately straightened, the cables in his body tensing painfully against his thin support struts. "Didn't tell me anything boss. Couldn't break through," he responded quickly. "He's got strong firewalls. He knew." Soundwave shifted his weight from one pede to another. "Ye got yer credits. Dun know what ye whinging about."

Landbreaker's optics darkened and he slammed his hands on the metal desk in front of him, causing it to creak dangerously. Soundwave flinched.

"You're stupid," Landbreaker growled, his thick hands reaching forward quickly to grasp the collar ridge of Soundwave's chassis. He pulled Soundwave forward, across his desk, pushing his face and grinding his cheekguard into the smooth metal. "You are nothing…" Landbreaker hissed, curling his fingers underneath Soundwave's jaw to tilt his head up. "Do you even understand how expensive energon is now?"

The youngling struggled but he was no match against Landbreaker. The visor pressed to one side, straining the cheap clips on his helm and a sliver of a bright orange optic could be seen from underneath it.

"I make you credits," he managed to grind out into the desk's surface. "I get ye credits!"

Landbreaker's optics darkened and he stopped for a moment.

"Ye can't deny how much ye need me too!" Soundwave shouted anxiously. "I know, I know I failed!"

Landbreaker snarled maliciously and ground the youngling's helm harder into the table before he let go.

"Where there's one telepath there's always another," Landbreaker growled. "You make me credits because I own you. You don't have a choice you fool." He settled himself back into his chair. "Perhaps you'd like to clean out the lower prisoner's quarters. I haven't had them fed for a few days…"

Soundwave's legs drew closer to his abdomen from where he had been dragged upon on the desk and his arms trembled as he pushed himself to a sitting position. He hastily righted the visor, covering his optics once again and bowed his helm to avoid Landbreaker's direct gaze. The visor covered the sheer hatred emanating from his own optics but the line of his mouth was grim, corners turned down with displeasure.

"No, no…sure boss. Ye right." Then Soundwave looked up, faceplates rearranging themselves to a more amiable expression. "We good boss? I can check the next cycle's shipment for ye."

"Just get out," Landbreaker snapped.

"Boss—"

Landbreaker fixed Soundwave with a heavy gaze. "I have yer contract. I own you until you pay me back all the fuckin' credits it took me to get you out of trouble. Don't fuckin' test me right now because I'll whip your worthless aft until you can't get up!" he shouted.

Soundwave didn't need any more prompting. He hurriedly left the room and once he was out in the hallway, he rubbed the thinly plated chassis above his fuel tanks. Soundwave was running dangerously low, and he tried to avoid the sputtering of his fuel lines as they continued to recycle used energon – which was so thick, his systems were working overtime just to force it through his lines.

He trotted down the hallway. He ran by a guard, who snapped angrily at him, and he rushed out into the open docking station. Shockwave's shuttle was already gone, but the smell of the engines still remained. Soundwave stared at the sky, trying to pinpoint Shockwave's ship among the many dots.

"Hey you, you get back inside. Don't want you runnin' around okay?" another burly guard said from the other side of the docking bay.

Soundwave turned around, his shoulders slumped. He looked up suddenly, checking to make sure none of the security cameras were on him. When he was sure he was alone, Soundwave dug the sigil from his thigh armour and turned it over in his hand. He traced the aggressive shape of it with his servos and he carefully prying the side open. His finger hit a button and the device beeped, lighting up brilliantly.

"—and then I says to her—"

Soundwave's helm whipped around and he carefully observed a few workers travelling down the hallway. He hid the sigil back into his thigh plating and hurriedly continued down the hallway to start his shift in the warehouse.

Warehouse work was never fun. When Soundwave arrived, he was already late for his shift. The foreman on duty was a vile mech named Spindraft, who often whipped slaves for not performing adequately. When Soundwave arrived, Spindraft was already yelling at a small femme for dropping a crate – which obviously had contained various valuables. Soundwave carefully peeked into the broken crate, noticing that several delicate looking purple crystals had broken. He scooped a piece of one up and clutched it tightly in his hand as he watched Spindraft carry out the femme's punishment. The crack of a whip made him flinch, and Soundwave carefully moved along so he could begin sorting shipping containers as they were hauled off a ship.

"Here's today's manifest, slave," Spindraft roughly said, approaching Soundwave from behind to roughly shove a datapad in his side.

Soundwave grunted, not bothering to correct Spindraft that he wasn't a slave. Primus knew how many times he had tried and as far as Spindraft was concerned, Soundwave was a slave. So Soundwave managed to grab the datapad before it fell onto the floor, bringing it up to his face to read it over. Without a word, Soundwave began to sort the crates that delivery mechs offloaded into neat piles so the other workers could take them to their appropriate store rooms. The work was mindless, if only physically exhausting. By the time two cycles were over, Soundwave could barely function.

He thought about returning to his tiny hole of a room to recharge. Or at least try to before Landbreaker decided to summon him for his…services.

Shockwave's words came back to dance mockingly inside his head.

He dug out the sigil again and stared down at it, wondering what had happened earlier. Not knowing what to make of it, he pushed it back into the recesses of his plating and looked over his shoulder. The warehouse was mostly empty and Spindraft was nowhere to be seen. Soundwave left Landbreaker's premises then. The guards barely looked at him as he walked past the security gates – it wasn't as if Soundwave could actually properly leave. Landbreaker would find him regardless, no matter where in Kaon.

Soundwave had no altmode so he was forced to use public transport. The line didn't take him exactly where he wanted to go so he had to walk the rest of the way. His destination was an entertainment district that was on the other side of Kaon; a place where he was less likely to bump into any of Landbreaker's lackeys. Kaon was known for its oily sleaziness and this particular district seemed to emphasise that fact perfectly. It reeked of desperation and filth where pleasures and low-grade energon filled with grit could be bought cheaply.

A group of drunken dockworkers nearly crashed into him and Soundwave spun on his pedes, narrowly avoiding them. Just ahead of him, Soundwave could see the open square surrounded by bars that doubled up as whorehouses. Prostitutes of all types strutted around by the walkways, displaying themselves favourably at whoever looked remotely interested.

Soundwave's visor dimmed with resignation and prayed that the clients he'd hopefully solicit tonight didn't exploit him too badly. Paying off his debt to Landbreaker was not cheap and prostitution was a profession the telepath was unfortunately experienced in.

At least Soundwave could rely on his telepathy as an early warning system to leg it in case a punter turned out to be a serial killer.

The crystal he had stolen earlier broke easily in his palm. Soundwave brought his hand up to his mouth and licked his palm clean. He could feel the crystal granules fizz when they reacted with his oral oils, releasing a chemical that burnt itself down his fuel tank. The drug performed its magic wonderfully and it wasn't long before he felt a cloud of bliss descend upon him.

With that, Soundwave made his way over to the square.

The area was unusually raucous and it took Soundwave awhile to remember that one of the local pit fighter teams had won a regional tournament. Naturally all of the supporters would be hitting the clubs hard for some fun and celebration. It meant that more out-of-towners would be hanging around, which also meant the perfect bid for a nice sum of credits.

Soundwave mingled around and managed to steal a few candied energon treats when a street vendor wasn't paying close enough attention. He munched down the candy and finally caught a few stray thoughts.

'That's him.'

Soundwave turned and pushed his way through a group of mechs until he emerged on the other side. Two huge mechs were blatantly visible outside of a rowdy club. Soundwave approached the pair, greedily staring at the high grade cubes they each held. He smiled, realizing he had the tallest one's attention.

The shortest of the pair turned to see what his friend was looking at. They laughed and shared a few words in a strange language Soundwave had never heard before.

Off-world mechs were even better and notoriously known to carry a plethora of credits. Soundwave had them pinned as a pair of stake holders in the recent fight.

The bigger one laughed again before he growled at Soundwave with a deep throaty tone. "Whores and sluts are so easy to find in this city," he spoke. "Come here little slut… do you want some energon?" he called out to Soundwave with a heavy accent.

Soundwave utilised all of the skill he possessed at that moment and concentrated on displaying the best areas his body had to offer. He sashayed towards the pair, making sure that their optics were glued at the way his hips swayed invitingly and when he got in close enough to feel their thick energy field, he ran his glossa over his mouth. For the time being, he didn't dare to touch them but still continued to advertise himself as submissive and very interested in what they had to offer.

"What else ye got for me?" he asked, deliberately slowing his speech so that he wouldn't overheat his malfunctioning vocaliser.

"Credits," the smaller one replied. "We are just in the city for tonight… and looking for fun before we return to Iacon."

The large mech spoke in the strange language again before he switched back to the common dialect. "What is it you are offering us, little slut? I have… unusual tastes."

Soundwave's spark sank. Unusual tastes usually meant abuse. He tried to subtly probe into their minds, at least to see what they had planned but there was nothing. In that case, Soundwave swiftly weighed the pros and cons in his head – he could charge higher just to cater to their unusual tastes and they did look like they were willing to spend. On the other hand, he could hardly afford to be choosy. Not if he wanted to escape Landbreaker's debt.

Plus, that drug was really helpful.

"Gimme energon an' credits…" Soundwave dared to breach their personal space by placing his hand against the smaller of the two, lightly scratching at what seemed to be part of jet nosecone melding into the mech's waist. "…I can do whatever ye want from me."

The shortest of the pair smoothly wrapped his arm around Soundwave's waist and shoved an energon cube in his hands. Soundwave immediately gulped it down and felt his internals seize uncomfortably as they struggled to cope with the sudden intake of fuel. He didn't show it however, knowing that his tanks would soon settle.

"I'm Blitzwing," the mech who had given him the cube said before pointing to his larger partner, "and that's Octane. There's no reason for alarm, we're not out for violence tonight. It's just that... there are few on the market who know how to handle our... size, if you understand me," Blitzwing said, all traces of his accent gone.

"So if you are willing," Octane said, handing over a modest credit chip to Soundwave. "We will go somewhere more private."

Soundwave refrained himself from just snatching the credit chip from Octane's fingers. Even if the experience did turn out to be unfortunate, at least he would have been paid something. He pocketed the money into his leg plating and distracted his newest clients from the action by letting his hand trail over the long line of his thigh.

"Very willing," Soundwave rasped out, sounding pleased.

He half-turned away from the embrace and gave his aft a few pats, as if inviting them to get on with it. The two mechs commented to each other in that strange language again and one of them exploded into a loud guffaw.

"Don't worry, little slut, we weren't laughing at you," Octane assured.

Soundwave didn't honestly care if they were. All he cared was if they were going to keep to their promise. So he just tipped his helm back and stared at them from the corner of his visor, making sure that they could see the way his lips were tugging upwards. That was the cue that both Blitzwing and Octane needed. They advanced forward and Blitzwing snaked his thick arm around Soundwave's waist again to guide him.

"Ye got a room, marra?" Soundwave asked, looking up at Blitzwing and hoping that he'd say yes.

Blitzwing leered down at him. "Nope, but don't worry…I ain't up for banging you in some dirty alleyway."

They closely followed Octane as he literally created a clear path for them while he pushed through the crowd. Soundwave's sharp gaze caught one of the prostitutes who had yet to find a client reaching out to solicit Octane and he hissed viciously, warning the other to back off. That had prompted even more laughter.

Soundwave scowled when he saw where Octane had led them.

"Thought ye said no alleyway," he complained.

"Mm…don't worry, little slut…I just want to see how good you are with your mouth," Octane said with a smirk. "Just to see if you're worth buying for the entire rotational cycle."

He felt Blitzwing's large hand press against the small of his back, giving him a gentle nudge forward. Soundwave glanced over his shoulder to catch Blitzwing's roguish grin and bright red visor before he was ushered along the side of one of the structures and straight into the narrow space that led into a dead end.

It was the drug that had already dulled his instincts and Blitzwing's hot alpha energy field that caused him not to question his safety. Soundwave stared as Octane leaned back against the wall and pushed his hips out to show off his prominent codpiece.

"Ever had a Triplechanger before?" Octane asked low in his vocaliser, reaching down to suggestively grab his codpiece.

Soundwave smiled inanely and shook his helm. Even if the answer had been yes, he still would have denied it to them. It always paid to make the client feels special in that sense. He heard Blitzwing behind him say something to his partner in their peculiar language again and Soundwave turned to frown at him. A soft snick had him turn back to Octane. Soundwave's optics gravitated straight down to the massive spike rising up from Octane's housing.

"Like what you see?" Octane purred out, and he fondly caressed the bulging energon tubes that wound tightly around the base of his shaft, much like a knot.

Soundwave didn't have a chance to comment. Blitzwing had jammed an EMP-device right up against his helm and Soundwave heard the high-pitch whine it emitted before it blasted him into unconsciousness. Oddly enough, Soundwave did manage to catch Octane insulting Blitzwing for not letting him have his blowjob before his systems shut down.

The first thing Soundwave noticed when he regained consciousness was the lack of pain. The second thing he noticed as his optical feed slowly cleared was that all he could see was white, painfully clean white. And finally, he noticed the lack of warnings his body usually bombarded him with each time he onlined.

Soundwave honestly thought he was dead.

After a long moment, he realised that no, he wasn't dead and that he was staring at an unknown ceiling with incredibly bright lighting. He could hear humming and mechanical whining all around him and Soundwave knew that wherever he was, he was nowhere near Landbreaker's warehouse.

That surreal sensation of weightlessness surrounded him and his processor continued to remain sluggish. That wasn't right. Soundwave surmised that he must be dead. It was the only way he could explain the lack of anything that registered on his sensors. But he could still feel his spark, slowly pulsing away and somehow, he managed to send a command for a diagnostics check. The fact that he actually got a response meant that he was alive. However…what was scrolling in front of him was another thing entirely. Something was going on with his body. An inventory scrolled across his vision of all the new parts that had been replaced on his body… and that inventory kept endlessly rolling.

"Sir, sir," a little drone buzzed, pestering Shockwave who was observing Soundwave from across the room. "The subject has awakened. It would be advisable to sedate him to continue work," it chattered.

Shockwave waved a hand, his optic whirring as he zoomed in and out on various part of Soundwave's body. "There is no reason. His sensory net is disconnected. I won't waste more sedatives on him."

Shockwave stood, abandoning the wiring he'd been fiddling with on one of his newest lines of clones. He wiped his hands until they were as pristine as before and padded over to the side of the berth, the bright light casting a broad shadow over Soundwave's form.

With one hand, Shockwave trailed his fingers over Soundwave's lasercore, tweaking the sensor nodes lined along it. Nothing would be felt, but there was a significant point that Shockwave needed to make.

Shockwave was in control.

By the terror-filled look in those orange optics, the youngling knew it too.

After passing his fingers over the glass one more time, Shockwave's hand shot up and he gripped Soundwave's chin to squeeze.

"You have cost me quite a lot to repair. I can only hope it is worth it."

Shockwave pressed his fingers into the youngling's sides where he extended a short cable from his wrist. It smoothly slid into a port located on Soundwave's flank. He easily accessed several programs to give Soundwave control of his torso and head but kept the sensory deprivation.

"Are you scared?" Shockwave asked.

Yea, Soundwave yelled. Or at least he tried to. No sound came out of his vocaliser. The module lay open at his throat, its components starkly visible with no wires connecting it to the back of his jaw that controlled it. His telepathy had not been tampered with but Soundwave knew that Shockwave would undoubtedly possess the ability to suppress it completely.

What ye doing to me? What's going on? Let me go! Where ye got me? What ye going to do to me?

He thought this and a million other questions, projecting them weakly at the large, imposing mech standing over him. But really, it wasn't much of the physical presence that scared him, it was the intrusion that filtered through his circuits. As a result, his spark began to pulse faster and faster and his vents laboured to draw in air. Then the machines took over his ventilation system, forcing it to slow down to a moderate pace before he literally burnt himself out from the effort.

Even with the limited movement Shockwave granted him, Soundwave continued to remain effectively crippled as it was. His shoulders thumped down onto the berth's hard surface, the back of his helm banging down in another bid for self-preservation.

Help, help, help, help, help. It ran as a mantra inside his mind.

Shockwave jerked the jack back out from Soundwave's port as if burned. He took a step back with Soundwave's mental assault still reeling inside of his mind. He clutched his helm with one hand.

"Enough!" Shockwave shouted.

The mech then took a moment to compose himself.

"You are with me at my place of operations. You will remain here until you pass the goals I have set for you, or until you die."

Shockwave watched as the medical drones continued about their jobs, sparks flaring up occasionally from where one was welding on Soundwave's body.

"You will be treated well as long as you follow my rules. They are strict and numerous, but easy enough to understand. Currently your body is being prepared so that you are useful and can go about the tasks I have assigned you. Also…I have installed a new vocaliser for you."

Shockwave's hand fiddled with the wiring at Soundwave's throat, pushing in several connector cables.

"What are—"

Soundwave immediately stopped there after hearing the first couple of words pour out of his mouth. It wasn't him speaking, it wasn't his voice. It was toneless, horribly flat and sounded as if it was coming from an automated computer. Every nuance of his original accent, the characteristic lilt of his voice gone.

"Gimme my voice back, yeh sparkless drone!"

He couldn't even project the anger. It was simply not possible. The monotone was wrong. Yes, the vocaliser he had been sparked with was one big malfunction, given the circumstances, but it was his voice. All he wanted was for it to be fixed.

Everything Shockwave said didn't matter. Soundwave was aware that he had passed himself from one service to another; from Landbreaker to Shockwave. Surely whatever he would be imposed with wouldn't be as bad as Landbreaker's constant brutality. Soundwave could live with that.

But for Shockwave to change him to such an extent…it was too extreme. It was his identity.

"I wan' my old voice." Soundwave cut himself off, unable to hear that horrible monotone. Please.

Shockwave made a noise of dismissal.

"You will not receive your voice back. It personally offends me," Shockwave said, as if he was reading from a datapad. He watched as the drones added a few more finishing pieces to Soundwave's left leg, putting small parts into place with. "You belong to me now, and I have several ways of going about your training. You will either comply and obey, or I will erase your personality components and replace them with something more…competent."

Soundwave flinched.

Another moment and all of the pieces had been put back in order on Soundwave's leg. Shockwave looked it all over again, and then began disconnecting Soundwave from the machines. It took a while, but Shockwave preferred if it was all done neatly.

"You will refer to me as Master, or Master Shockwave. Any continued insults to myself will result in punishment."

The jack from Shockwave's wrist extended again and the scientist pressed it back into Soundwave's port, instantly reactivating several programs, along with the mech's sensory grid to give Soundwave full control of himself. "You will not receive armoured plating for several weeks. My drones have better things to do than pound out dents."

Soundwave keened, but his new vocaliser was still not worn in to produce the sound needed to convey pain and surprise. Or it simply did not allow it. Now that his sensors were back online, the numbness had been unpleasantly smashed away by stinging, as if sharp points penetrated him on every angle of his sensitive protoform. The sensory ports where the armour clicked in burned, data connectors horribly empty. The drones reacted with amazing efficiency, installing temporary covers to block out the building pain and cut out the confusing information his protoform was receiving from the open air.

Soundwave wondered what he had gotten himself into. He instinctively pulled into himself, curling his naked limbs onto his equally naked body, gaze frantically darting around him. He spied what was left of his old plating piled up in a container that appeared ready to be discarded. And there, on top of the armour that used to make up his shoulders, lay what looked to be a vocaliser unit. The drones hadn't even attempted to repair it; they just scooped it out and tossed it away and replaced it with the monstrosity that was part of him now.

Skeletal fingers stretched out towards the pile. "Please." He was too scared to feel hate or anger. Too vulnerable and weary. "Vocaliser." Another pause. "Master Shockwave."

"Your request is denied. It is damaged and inefficient. To reinstall it would be pointless," Shockwave said, his fingers prodding at various parts of Soundwave's body. He removed the jack again, letting it slid back into his wrist where the little cover snapped close.

"Your current amount of suffering will be nothing compared to your training. You will be conditioned and trained to fight one-on-one, you will be instructed on how to use the latest weaponry I have to offer, your frame and mind will be conditioned to the highest degree, and your telepathy will be enhanced to give you power. Then you will join your place in the Decepticons."

After Shockwave had finished speaking, he tapped his fingers on the light cranium covering of Soundwave's helm.

"Mech Soundwave, you will stand to ensure your new parts are in proper working order. I suggest you try walking."

Soundwave swivelled his helm to stare into the yellow optic. He was still reeling with shock, unable to form a coherent response. But he figured that Shockwave wouldn't have wanted one anyway.

He didn't know how he achieved it but he swung his legs over the edge of the berth and carefully stood up. His plateless pedes felt too narrow on the floor, too unbalanced. Hydraulics hissed and pulled at his struts, new parts that fitted perfectly on him and yet, did not feel like him.

Soundwave's optics was still fixed upon that pile. He gingerly took one step forward, unused to the balancing software that calibrated new gyros, intently obsessed to get his hands onto the vocaliser. But Shockwave easily overtook him. Instead of grabbing him, Shockwave brushed past and went to a control module on the wall. Shockwave pressed a button and several long mechanical arms extended from the ceiling, grabbing a hold on the girth of the container, which contained Soundwave's old plating and vocalizer. The container was carried through an open hatch in the wall, clearly dumping the contents out into a garbage disposal right before Soundwave's optics. The hatch doors slid shut, the edges of the yellow and black caution paint touching together just as the arms retracted back up into the ceiling.

"It will be sorted and then melted down. Unfortunately, the colour of your optics could not be changed. Your optical relay is a mutated due to the poor materials used in your original protoform construction. There is no connector buffer and it's fused directly into your processing chips," he informed Soundwave. "Red would be more suitable, but the orange will have to do."

The young telepath was not acknowledging the other mech's words. He stared forlornly at the closed hatch, much like a sparkling that had had its favourite toy taken away.

Shockwave peered curiously at his new subject, his arms crossed over his chassis. "You'll find that I am devoid of most emotion and compassion. Soon you will be similar," Shockwave stated.

Soundwave's full mouth opened, then closed…repeating the motion several times over. "I…dun wanna be a…" Here he nearly choked. "A drone."

It was true. At first it was all about survival. Fantasies of living in the riches of Iacon, making enough credits to own property at the Towers would be just fantasies, for Soundwave wasn't stupid enough to ever believe that he'd live happily.

"You won't be," Shockwave replied, sounding mildly offended. "If I wanted a drone, I would create one. It would save me the hassle."

Shockwave's hands fanned over a control board and a holoimage of Iacon's royal estate, where the current Prime resided in, flashed into view, spiralling around slowly and enveloping them both.

"The time has come for a revolution, and your brethren are leading it," Shockwave finished, a little louder.

Soundwave wasn't stupid enough to believe the nonsense that Shockwave was spouting either. The shock was somewhat fading away now, indignation seeping in all the confusion he knew had been etched upon his face since the moment he onlined in this pit of a laboratory.

Soundwave started to laugh hysterically and the synthethiser he had for a vocaliser ruined it completely.

"Yeh insane, marra? I dun understand the slag yeh sayin'! Yeh wanna kill me and take my spark, go do it and stop with the games!"

Shockwave vented loudly. "Your telepathy is invaluable," he tried again, one arm jerking out in irritation. "It is a rare trait that I find most favorable in recruits. If you can learn to use it, you will become a very valuable asset. Do you understand?"

"I wan' my vocaliser back," Soundwave insisted, still unable to push the longing into his new voice.

Shockwave vented again, placing his hand on his hip, while he brandished the other down towards the floor. "You are a new mech now. You belong to me, and through me, the Decepticons."

Shockwave reached for Soundwave and his grip was like iron. He pulled the youngling forcibly out of the medbay – lab- whatever it was, and out through a pair of extremely large doublewide doors.

"Lemme go!" Soundwave yelled, skidding along on the floor as he attempted to stop himself.

Shockwave's strength was great, and sparks flew up from where his bare protoform pedes were digging into the floor. After his pain sensors flared up harshly, Soundwave stopped and started to jog forward to keep up with the large mech's brutal pace. They travelled down one hallway and then another, before the pair stopped in front of a lonely door. It opened and the inside light flickered on, revealing a modest room with a small comfortable looking berth on the far end.

Shockwave shoved Soundwave towards the door. "This is your room. You will remain here when you are not training. A drone will deliver you a cube of energon every day. Once your brittle tank and body absorbs nutrients and becomes supple, I will allow you to have more energon, and even an energon dispenser in your room for refuelling at your leisure. Right now, too much energon would kill you."

A large hand pushed Soundwave all the way into the room. "It will be locked, and there is no chance for escape. I advise you to refrain from destroying any items. Any damage incurred will be repaid by an electro-whip. I have provided you datapads with basic schooling lessons. You are to complete the assigned learning lessons each day, to be presented to me for review."

The door shut between them, cutting the orange optics off from the yellow one. Despite hearing Soundwave beating on the door and screaming curses at him, Shockwave left. When he reached his laboratory, he called for a drone.

"Retrieve the damaged vocaliser and repair it," he ordered. "Perhaps as a future reward."

Kaon, towards the end of the Golden Age.

Times had been tough, but Landbreaker knew how to profit from them. The social unrest that had been brewing steadily from the side lines soon put a stop to that. Oh, he had taken advantage when society began to break down around him but when the officials whom he had a long standing relationship of corruption with started to drop dead like fly-bytes, that's when his profiteering plans went to the pit.

Fate smiled upon him when he received a call from Senator Ratbat. He had dealt with Ratbat a long time ago, making a few off-the-table deliveries for the senator and getting paid handsomely in return. To be…commissioned again was a blessing in itself. If he could get a business relationship with Ratbat going, it would be a miracle. He would be offering his services and if what he was hearing was correct, then Ratbat was dealing with the Decepticons. Not that Landbreaker was choosing sides – the Iacon-based regime was what allowed him to build his own shady businesses – but Megatron and his cronies were advancing all over Cybertron at a virus-fast rate.

It was an opportunity that Landbreaker would be stupid to refuse.

The console next to him beeped and Landbreaker barely was able to glance at it before the locks of his office doors were overridden. His hand slapped onto the blaster next to him and he gripped it just in time to see a tall, darkly plated mech stride into his office with silent steps.

Landbreaker snarled. "Who the fuck are you? How did you get here?"

The unknown mech stopped before the desk and he didn't even look affected by the blaster that was pointing straight at his chest. He was masked with a malevolent red visor and stood stiffly, much like a drone with its limbs locked into place.

"My presence," the mech stated with a monotone, "on behalf of Senator Ratbat."

Landbreaker's face relaxed but at the same time, he frowned at the strange individual who had casually hacked his codes and let himself into his office without so much of a warning. He didn't lower the gun.

"Still don't give you permission to—"

"I am Senator Ratbat's aide," the mech interrupted him smoothly.

"Don't care who you—"

Landbreaker trailed off when he saw the aide produce three credit chips in his clawed hand. Three shiny credit chips of very high denominations. Just the sight of them had Landbreaker's mood flip from aggravated to pleased.

"Landbreaker: will work exclusively for Senator Ratbat. You will be paid half in advance," the aide dispassionately announced.

This time, Landbreaker lowered his weapon and set it on the table. He smirked and purred out, "Then why didn't you say so…?"

The aide's visor brightened a little. "I am telling you now…marra."

Of course, Landbreaker had no warning. Pain lanced through his helm harshly, incapacitating him. He collapsed heavily onto the floor and his mouth sputtered static as he stared upwards at the pedes that stepped right at the line of his flickering optics.

"Sound—kzzttt..."

It was impossible. Soundwave had disappeared one cycle and Landbreaker presumed the little fucker dead.

He was heaved effortlessly up onto his chair and his helm lolled strutlessly to the side. Soundwave hunched forward a little to directly stare at him. His highly-polished mask retracted into the sides of his helm and Landbreaker hissed angrily when he saw that full mouth. He could recognise that mouth anywhere. Primus knew that he felt it many times when he had Soundwave service him.

Then Soundwave grinned and Landbreaker recalled how his former subordinate used to have flat, dull denta plates plagued by rust spots. They were now gleaming silvery-white, ending in thin and needle-sharp points. It was a horrible grin. Landbreaker's unresponsive body didn't even allow him to flinch. Even his vocaliser refused to work.

"I have returned to pay you back in full," Soundwave told him. The monotone must have been a synthesiser because his voice was back to normal, but without the Polyhexian-slum accent and the glitch that Landbreaker was used to.

Cruel fingers pried Landbreaker's jaw open and held it open as Soundwave jammed the credits into his mouth. They lodged painfully against his throat tubing, with their corners digging into the twitching opening that led down to his fuel tanks.

Landbreaker began to panic. He was unable to move, trapped in his own body by Soundwave's telepathy. Even his communications were jammed.

"You are weak-minded," Soundwave remarked.

He reached down to Landbreaker's chassis so that he could flip open his medical access panel to plug himself in. Landbreaker felt the cold trickle of the mech's foreign presence saturate itself into his systems. No amount of firewalls stopped Soundwave from accessing the mechanism that kept his chestplates locked over his lasercore.

"I did not lie. You shall indirectly work for Ratbat…under my command. Landbreaker's new function: my symbiote."

It was after he saw Soundwave's chestplates open wide enough for him to retrieve a segmented rectangular object. But upon seeing that object unfold into the protoform of quad-pedal creature, especially one that had an open cavity in its torso that displayed an empty lasercore did Landbreaker finally process the full severity of what Soundwave had said.

"New designation: Ravage."

Up next... we focus on Megatron! Don't forget to give us a review!