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Old 05-30-2021, 03:44 PM   #1
Outtsyder
Another 1 Bites The Dust
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Join Date: Jun 2007
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Cool "Wave, Goodbye" (G1 Shockwave speculative origin story)

Hope you've enjoyed the previous story on BW Dinobot that I shared here. For this three-part story, I originally wrote it five years ago shortly after I got MP-29 Shockwave, but I haven't posted it publicly until recently.
Here's a direct link to my upload on AO3 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/31...pters/78107003 - but I'll post it here as well.

Premise: A speculative origin story for Shockwave, who invents a new electromagnetic radiation multi-tool, just as the Decepticons begin their uprising near the end of Cybertron’s ancient Golden Age.





{Part 1}

“What in The Inferno is this, Highlight?!”

The wireframe blueprint images on the work lab’s main vid-screen – multiple angles of what resembled a strange-looking weapon – contrasted sharply with the relatively benign tools and electronic equipment, strewn about in organized pockets of localized chaos in the laboratory. Magnificus was not thrilled with his cocky purple co-worker smirking at him from the only seat in the workshop. It was bad enough that Highlight always hogged that chair, and requests for another one were often forgotten by management. But while the duo often worked well together, Highlight’s maverick attitude sometimes grated on the by-the-datapad Magnificus, wishing he could concentrate enough light through his shoulder-mounted scope-lens barrel and blast some discipline into his too-damn-easy-going partner. Just once, if company regulations could allow it.

“It’s all right; the boss has nothing to worry about. It’s just my own little side project.”

“Yes, and this ‘little side project’ of yours is on company time, and on company property, might I add? That’s already two violations if you get caught. And do you realize the slag-storm that’ll sweep you up if the higher-ups even hear about this? Did you miss the part in Astro Magnum’s mission statement, about making stuff for civil uses, not weapons? Forget it; I’m not getting dragged into this cyber-pet project of yours!”

“Calm down, bud,” Highlight dismissed him with a barely audible chuckle. “All right, I admit it looks like a blaster, but that’s not what I have in mind. This little idea’s been tickling the back of my CPU, since I designed those compact models of our nuclear reactors. Remember how I suggested your miniaturization skills for that job?”

“Yes, looking at your schematics, I see you’re talking about the models incorporating the Vulcan laser array,” Magnificus replied. “But what exactly is this supposed to be?”

Highlight got up from the seat, retracted his left hand into his forearm, and extended a narrow laser pointer from his wrist socket. “It’s only a theoretical concept,” he explained as he indicated select features in the designs on the screen with his red pinpoint dot. “But you know how we interface Vulcan lasers with the reactors and draw ideas from the electromagnetic spectrum? I want to miniaturize that tech further, and install them in hand-held devices.”

The black micro-electronics engineer crossed his arms over his chest as his all-too-relaxed lab partner delivered his informal presentation from the workshop’s seat. “How exactly do you expect to harness substantial nuclear power from a device the size of a hand tool?”

“You know, for someone who transforms into a microscope, you sure lack vision,” Highlight snickered. “What you see here, my friend, is an early prototype for what could lead to a whole assortment of multi-purpose electromagnetic tools. Think of it. With the turn of a dial, it can transmit radio signals. Or it can be an industrial heat gun. Or a searchlight. Or an X-ray scanner.”

“Or a weapon,” Magnificus interrupted. “You said ‘full range of the electromagnetic spectrum’, remember? If that thing also covers gamma-ray frequencies, someone could accidently put it on the wrong setting and cause some serious damage. Or blast someone to dust!”

“Ah, but don’t think that slipped my cerebro-circuits, pal,” Highlight said while continuing his impromptu lesson. “I’m working on restriction filters to prevent this tool from reaching the gamma-ray region of the spectrum. Once I feel it meets – make that surpasses all industry safety standards, I’ll start drafting a formal proposal for this little devil.”

Magnificus resisted all temptation to facepalm in front of his lab partner holding his personal infomercial in their workshop. “‘Devil.’ Appropriate word. I’m sorry, Highlight, but I don’t like it. If that thing gets into the wrong hands, they could easily re-engineer it as a weapon. And if it gets traced back to you, Astro Magnum as a whole could be held liable! It’s way too dangerous.”

Highlight showed no lack of self-assurance, as his laser nozzle retracted into his wrist socket and his left hand slid back out. “Danger’s a relative term. A laser in the military is a weapon. A laser in a factory is a tool. Look at the primary tool of your trade. If you focused enough light through that lens barrel on your shoulder, you could start a fire if you wanted.”

“You sure have an answer for everything, don’t you?” Magnificus groaned, shaking his head. “I’ll bet you also have one about certain current events.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe if you kept up with the news instead of tinkering with your new toy, you might have heard about those new robots. You know, the ones who can fly on their own power? I heard they raided an energy facility on the opposite border of the province.”

“But that’s just a rumor, isn’t it? When was that reported?”

“About a quartex ago. Said they stole all the valuables they could find and left no survivors.”

“But if there were no survivors, then where’d that story come from?”

Magnificus’ rebuttal was aborted by a pause, trying to sort out the argument in his logic centres.

“Like I said, just a rumor,” Highlight grinned confidently, as he plopped back down on the seat and propped his feet up on a rare empty space on a work table. “And like I also said, nothing to worry about. I’m taking every precaution I can to make sure this device is safe to use before I write one line of code for that proposal. But I need your help for the miniaturization to go right. You being such a stickler for safety, you can inspect it in your usual obsessive-compulsive way, before I take the next step. Still, I expect it’ll be done in a couple deka-cycles.”

“You really think you can do it, huh?” Magnificus sighed in surrender. “And I suppose you’ll requisition parts in-house to build the prototype yourself?”

“Mm-hm. It’s all propriety anyway, but I intend to wow the board of directors, and they’ll see nothing but multiple returns on this investment. Plus, I’ll make sure to get a cut of the deal.”

“What makes you so sure the boss will clear that?

“Hey, it is my invention. It’ll be the first of its kind on the market before anyone else thinks about copying the idea, but no one else has the expertise and high standards we got. I guarantee our model will always be the best, no matter how many imitations are spawned, and who wants less than the best? I’ll just ask for a little residual; not too big a bite to hurt the budget. But once stock really gets moving – and it will – you won’t believe how high it’ll pile up.”

Magnificus shook his head at Highlight’s boasts. “Your ambition bothers me sometimes, you know that? All this talk of proposals and deals and percentages; you sound more like a business dealer than a technologist. You sure you still want to work in a tech lab?”

“Nothing wrong with some extra money. Hey, you remember another part of the company’s mission statement, right? Innovation is what sets good old Astro Magnum ahead of the competition, isn’t it? Besides, I was the one who put in a good word for your miniaturization skills, and that got you a raise. So you owe me a favor.”

“But you also got a raise for your idea.”

“Not as much as yours. They thought your hands-on work was worth more, anyway. I’m good with that. But this time, I’m making sure to attach my brand to this piece of work. Hey, I might also go the opposite of miniaturization and make something big, like an electromagnetic radiation telescope. I’m sure some astronomical observatory is dying to capture some dazzling images of the stars in microwave or ultraviolet. Man, I can just see those pictures now.”

“Damn you and your dreams.”

“Hey, this is the Golden Age, where anything can happen. We’re in position to make it happen!”

Magnificus couldn’t deny his lab partner had quite the imagination and the optimism behind it. “You really have all this thought out, haven’t you?”

“Insight and foresight, my friend,” Highlight chuckled as he rested his hands behind his crested head, in front of the twin hover pontoons jutting from his upper back. “Insight and foresight are everything. Tell you what; you help me with this idea, and I’ll give you a cut, how ’bout that?”

“Hm… I suppose I should have some compensation for my contributions.”

Highlight offered his right hand to Magnificus. “That a yes, then?”

After a slight pause, Magnificus accepted his lab partner’s handshake. “All right. But you sure you won’t leave Astro Magnum after you get rich like you think? Like you said, anything can happen. You might start up your own company and compete with us.

“Ha-ha, you worry too scraggin’ much!” Highlight laughed as he relinquished the handshake. “I may be ambitious, but I still believe in loyalty. As long as Astro Magnum’s around, I’m staying.”

“By the way, what are you going to call this gadget when it’s done?”

Highlight paused. “Hm. I dunno. A laser… laser vulcan, I guess.”

If Magnificus didn’t have a mouthplate, it would be his turn to smirk. “Well, be glad you’re a top-notch tech designer, because you’re terrible at branding. All right, let’s get to work.”

* * * * *

The proposal began:

To paraphrase an excerpt from the company’s mission statement, innovation is the factor that sets us ahead of the competition. In fact, it is my belief that innovation sets Astro Magnum apart from the competition; that belief led me to propose to you the designs for our upgraded compact nuclear reactors, so that purchasers, and their customers in turn, could conserve space compared to our past models without loss of power capacity or efficiency. With this in mind, I would like to submit a proposal applying those same principles of electronic and technological miniaturization, to produce another device.

The MP.29 – tentatively named the “laser vulcan” – will be a variable-setting multi-purpose tool that harnesses energy from almost the full range of the electromagnetic spectrum. Measures will be implemented in the design to prevent access to harmful gamma rays, ensuring safe use among not only industrial users, but also an untapped market in the general public. Expanding the customer base for this device will open exposure of our products to the every-cycle consumer, capturing their imagination and strengthening our reputation for excellence in our industry. And as before, I will request Magnificus’ assistance to contribute his expertise in miniaturization and his stringent precision standards, to further ensure the safety of this device.

Please see the attached files and schematics for further details of the MP.29, including a list of essential materials, a budget, and a marketing plan should this project be approved. Thank you.

Highlight
Laboratory Technician, Micro-Electronics and Design


* * * * *

Summary of Technical Features
Manufacturer: Astro Magnum Precision Lasers & Electromagnetics (tentatively)
Model #: MP.29
Tool type: laser vulcan (electromagnetic radiation multi-tool)

Features:
* Multi-tool emits beams of energy from entire range of the electromagnetic spectrum; safeguards will restrict access to gamma-ray range; variable switch for setting frequency; nature of tool drains power source rapidly
* Possible uses of multi-tool: searchlight, scanner/detector, signal transmitter/jammer
* Miniature nuclear reactor with focused laser array accommodates a variety of fuel cells for power sources; energon, radioactive, and electrical cells yield most efficient results
* Insulated conduit cable contains inert gas coolant; draws excess heat from reactor into chamber leading to heat sinks for dissipation
* Barrel has strategically-cut slots for heat sinks, preventing overheating
* Retractable rangefinder


* * * * *

The text blinked on the wall screen as Highlight opened the message in his electronic inbox.

Thank you for submitting your proposal for the laser vulcan electromagnetic multi-tool. Unfortunately, we feel this proposal does not meet our mission statement, nor does it fit into our company’s plans at this time. Upon close examination of your schematic drafts, we noticed that you incorporated into your design components based on Astro Magnum’s propriety goods, without prior notification or permission from us. Furthermore, we were informed that your proposal was completed on company time and property. These are violations of company policy, as all Astro Magnum projects must be officially approved prior, with any personal and otherwise unauthorized projects forbidden on company grounds. In light of these offenses, we regret to inform you that, effective immediately, you are suspended from Astro Magnum Precision Lasers & Electromagnetics for two quartexes. We encourage creativity and innovation in our company, but be advised that due process must be maintained at all times.
We look forward to your return to work when your suspension period is over. Thank you.


* * * * *

“Soundwave. Report.”

In a secret system of crudely hollowed-out caverns, hidden deep under the surface of Polyhex, broad-shouldered humanoid labor drones sorted and placed their stolen plunder in assigned storage. Supervising the operation and taking account was the quiet Decepticon Communications Officer, who turned at the mention of his name toward the source of the deep, gravelly voice: Megatron, the upstart warlord who declared himself Leader of the Decepticon uprising.

“Raid 3 comparatively less successful than previous missions,” Soundwave reported in his electronically-synthesized monotone voice. “Increases in four inventory classifications are lower than expected. Hardware: 25.57%. Raw material: 32.63%. Ready-made equipment: 18.79%. Armament: 42.08%.”

“After the last two missions I personally led, this drop is unacceptable,” Megatron muttered. “This leaves us with not nearly enough resources to begin constructing our new Seeker aerial force. What of our energy stores?”

“Net loss of 27.85%, due to high fuel expenditure and considerable casualties to both combat and transport drone divisions.”

“Obviously, our next strike must be another significant source of energy. Our plan should have resulted in zero casualties among our forces. How do you account for this?”

“Infantry captain Blacklight reports arrival of unexpected defenses.”

“The Guardian robots,” growled Megatron knowingly, with a frustrated clench of his fists. “Trust those lumbering sentinels to interfere! Unless we remove those oversized automatons from the equation, my plans for Decepticon supremacy are in jeopardy.”

An indicator light on Soundwave’s torso blinked on and off three times. “Laserbeak returns from reconnaissance,” he droned; flying into the cavern was a small, ovoid-shaped scout craft with a wedge-shaped, hook-tipped head, blurring the line between bird and nosecone. Anticipating the scout’s arrival, Soundwave pressed the eject button on his left shoulder to open his hinged chest panel; Laserbeak folded up into his data cartridge mode, and slid home safely into his protector’s storage bay before the protective chest panel swung shut independently. The spindles inside his chest interlocked with the digital spools in Laserbeak’s cartridge mode, and rotated to internally play back the scout’s findings recorded in his data banks.

“Laserbeak has found a source of energy in Autobot territory,” Soundwave began. Location is south of Iacon city-state’s borders; a warehouse complex in Storage Yard 67 by the river northeast of the Rust Sea. Energy capacity equivalent to 275,000 astroliters of energon.”

“Excellent!” Megatron cried. “With that much energy at our disposal, any other losses will be rendered insignificant, and we can proceed with our expansion.”

“However,” the Communications Officer added, “security along regional boundaries has increased. Multiple Guardian Robots have been sighted.”

Megatron’s mood swung back after this bad news. “Those Autobots must have gotten wise to us and decided not to take any chances. My fusion cannon can neutralize the Guardian Robots, but the rest of our force is vulnerable to their sheer size. We must seize that energy, but even if Blacklight led twice our number of elite warrior drones in my place, a direct assault on the Guardians would be a mistake we cannot afford to repeat.”

“Understand, Megatron,” Soundwave rebutted, “that appointing Blacklight was necessary, in order to devote time to prepare future strategies.”

“Perhaps. But these results mean that I still need to be present on the field for those strategies to succeed. Under these circumstances, not only must we increase our armament capabilities, but I must also recruit another lieutenant. One with exceptional acumen for strategy. Meticulous capability of calculating optimum courses of action. Great power to effectively eliminate threats such as the Guardians. And of course… unswerving loyalty to me.”

* * * * *

“Barkeep. Hit me again.”

“You’ve had seven rounds of high-grade already, pal. I think that’s enough.”

“Hey, I’m payin’ for ’em, ain’t I? You want my money or not?”

“Okaaay, customer’s always right. Even when they’re over-energized…”

Elbows propped on the bar, faceplate buried in hands, Highlight’s demeanor in Maccadam’s Old Oil House was nothing like the cheerful optimism he had at work just a few cycles ago. The rejection of his laser vulcan proposal was already a painful punch to the circuits as it was. But being suspended for conceiving his invention outside the normal channels was unfair. Innovation – that which “set Astro Magnum ahead of the competition” – is supposed to be about creative thinking, isn’t it? It’s about breaking rules and pushing boundaries in order to develop new ideas into fruition. That’s why we’re in a thriving Golden Age today, right? So how can innovation be expected to flourish in an environment that insists on staying on the same safe, established path?

What really rubbed acid into the wound was that someone ratted him out. If the issue was just unauthorized use of company designs in an outside project, disciplinary action wouldn’t have been much more than a first-offense warning. And despite the board’s attempt to keep the informant anonymous, Highlight knew exactly who the steel stool pigeon was. Who else could have known about the laser vulcan but his lab partner? Magnificus was a great lab technician, but Highlight often had trouble meshing his unbridled free thought with Magnificus’ insistence on keeping within set rules. Still, they had been able to set aside their differences in philosophy in order to develop and improve many of Astro Magnum’s best projects. But he never expected Magnificus to be so adherent to regulations, that he’d go so far as to throw away a share of a lucrative deal just to color inside the lines. How defective must you be to do that?!

On the wall above him in the tavern, a television screen showed footage of wreckage and panicking mecha-citizens being attended to by emergency squads. The calm voice of a reporter contrasted with the frantic scene; “Another attack in Polyhex was reported earlier this solar cycle. An armament factory was the target of a violent raid, leaving thirty-six workers deactivated and an undisclosed number of bystanders injured. Witnesses say the incident was perpetrated by a legion of transport drones hauling disguised warriors, led by so-called ‘new flying robots’ allegedly sighted at the attack. The entire stock of defense weaponry was…”

Huh, Highlight thought. Guess Magnificus wasn’t iron-slagging about that story after all. Well, he’s damn lucky he’s at work right now, ’cause if I saw him there, first thing I’d do would rip that microscope barrel off his shoulder brace, and spear it through his mouth and down his spinal infrastructure!

“Hey. Highlight.”

He heard the voice at his right, and miraculously suppressed that first instinct when he saw him.

“What the frag do you want?” Highlight slurred, heavily inebriated from the effects of his multiple rounds of energon drinks.

“Look, I’m sorry; I didn’t—”

“Save it, your titanium tattler. You backstabbed me, so I’m givin’ you to the count of five to zip off.” At that moment, Highlight balled up his right hand into a fist. “One.”

“Come on, now; be sensible about this…”

Highlight turned aside from the bar with a stumble to face Magnificus. “Two.”

“I already told you this was a bad idea and you’d get in trouble for it.”

Highlight clumsily raised his fist into view. “Three.”

“Would you just listen to me?”

Highlight grabbed for the panicking Magnificus and seized his throat. “Four.”

“I just had a talk with the boss.”

Highlight reared back his right fist. “Four and a half.”

“They suspended me, too!”

Pause. “Ironslag. You’re just buyin’ time so I don’t rearrange your faceplate this astrosecond.”

“I’m serious! All right, so I… had to follow regulations, and I admit I sort of betrayed you.”

“‘Sort of’?!”

“But I had to confess I was also in on your proposal, so they had to put me in the cooler, too.”

“Pfeh,” Highlight spat. “Knowing you, you probably asked to get suspended for your part in it.”

“No, it wasn’t like that at all. Um… could you let go of me?”

Highlight grudgingly released Magnificus’ neck, then slouched on the bar again… right at the moment when the barkeep placed his next drink on the counter. “How long did you get?”

“Oh, a pretty long time, it’ll be a while before I can go back—”

“How. Long?

Magnificus winced. “A deka-cycle.”

“That’s it, huh? I guess it pays to suck up to the policy makers like a good little protoform.”

“Look, Highlight, I’ll make it up to you. I promise I can.”

“Whatcha gonna do? Quit?”

“Well… not exactly.”

“Then you got nothin’ to offer. Now scrag off before I—”

“No, I mean it has to do with your laser vulcan idea.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Think about it. Astro Magnum rejected your proposal, right?”

“Don’t remind me.”

“So technically, that idea is still yours, right?”

“So what?”

“Ever thought of… taking the idea to somewhere else?”

Highlight did a double-take, wondering if the mixed-fuel beverages he’d guzzled had warped his audio perception more than he thought. “What are you yapping about?”

“Have a look at the screen. See what’s up there?”

“Yeah. So you may be right about the flying robots. What about it?”

“Ever thought about putting that proposal to another use? Such as… defense?”

Now Highlight really thought the barkeep had the right idea about having enough. “Weren’t you the one who tried to stop my idea in the first place, because you thought it could be a weapon?”

“I used to think that, yes. But now there’s that new attack. Think about it… we’re going to have to defend ourselves, if these attacks keep coming.”

Highlight was starting to wonder if the drinks he had were stronger than he originally ordered. “This… this don’t sound like you at all, Magnificus. What’s going on?”

“I… just thought about looking at things your way, that’s all. And besides, if you still want to reap benefits from your invention, like you wanted, you can still do it. Maybe you can bring the idea to another company. Like… Destron-Laserwave?”

Now this discussion was getting really weird. Highlight had heard of Destron-Laserwave, a fairly new start-up company co-owned by two aggressive young entrepreneurs. So aggressive, in fact, that they had already absorbed and taken over numerous other companies in an almost-predatory expansion plan, as such a rapid rate unheard of in recent memory. But their expansion was putting scores of citizens out of work, leaving them out in the wild without a safety net.

“I can’t do that,” Highlight replied. “I really don’t like the way they run their business. Besides, we’re still under contract to Astro Magnum. If we gave the MP.29 proposal to another company, we could get nailed for corporate espionage at the very least.

“I thought you were the innovator,” Magnificus muttered with a slight, barely noticeable edge. “What happened to all the risk-taking and rule-breaking, huh?”

“That’s a totally different kind of risk, as in the kind that could land you in the slammer.”

“So just let your laser vulcan die, then?”

“No,” Highlight sighed, rubbing his weary faceplate with his hands, feeling the effects of the energon beverages distorting his perception. “It’s still my creation. I guess I’ll just have to… wait for another time and do it the right way.”

“Ah, following rules, huh? Uncharted territory for you,” Magnificus snickered.

“Don’t push it, pal,” Highlight humored his old lab partner with a chuckle of his own.

“Mind if I stay and have a round?”

“Sure. Guess I could use a drinkin’ buddy.”

Magnificus beckoned to the barkeep. “One Corona Solar Lite for me, and a straight shot of socket toluene for my friend here. And… put all his orders on my bill.”

* * * * *

“What do you mean, ‘not on the roster’?!”

“I’m sorry, Highlight, but that’s what our records say,” said Filesave, the lobby receptionist.

“But my suspension just ran out last solar cycle! I’m supposed to come back to work now!”

“Well, my new files were updated last quartex, and your name isn’t in our system anymore.”

“That’s ridiculous! Someone in the higher-ups must have messed up. If I’m not on the roster, the least they could do is let me know. That’s standard procedure in Astro Magnum, isn’t it?”

“Oh.” Filesave paused uncomfortably before she continued. “I think that’s the problem.”

“What is it?”

“Didn’t you see the sign at the entrance?”

“Well… no, I didn’t; I just pass it every time I come in. Has it changed?”

“More than you noticed, apparently. This isn’t Astro Magnum anymore.”

“What?”

“It’s Destron-Laserwave. This building’s their new central business headquarters.”

The range of Highlight’s emotions began to swirl like a kaleidoscope in his mind, and none of the colors represented “happy.” He froze for a few astroseconds that felt like half a stellar cycle, before he could muster up a confused response. “Destron… Laserwave?”

“Yes, they bought out Astro Magnum about a quartex ago, while you were still suspended,” Filesave explained. “A whole restructuring went into play, and about three-quarters of our old staff got released. I was lucky to stay, though. New boss seems to like me.” She really resisted a slight grin at her last sentence; she felt it might make Highlight more upset than he already was.

“Great,” Highlight lamented with a defeated droop of his shoulders. “So how about my stuff?”

“Sorry to say this, but only those who were still here during the restructuring could take their belongings with them. For everyone else, even those on their cycles off, the new crew just threw them out without a thought.”

Highlight shook his head with another sigh. Destron-Laserwave certainly was fast and efficient, he gave them that. Just not ethical. “Guess there’s no sense asking for my severance pay, huh?”

“I can send a message to the new boss for you, if you like. He’s busy in a meeting right now, but I’ll make sure to pass your question to him.”

“Sure… not like I got much else to lose now,” Highlight muttered glumly. Moments after the receptionist took his message, he left the building, transformed to his half-track hover sled mode and coasted out. Everything was being thrown about in all directions. Suspended over his project because Magnificus squealed on him, his old lab partner informs him about Destron-Laserwave at Maccadam’s while also being suspended… and two quartexes later, he’s completely out of a job because Destron-Laserwave took over Astro Magnum, while he was in the cooler? None of this made any sense… and yet, he suspected there was a connection in there somewhere. And perhaps, Highlight thought, Magnificus could lead to that connection.

As his half-track hover sled form sailed along the tarmac streets, Highlight opened a channel on his internal radio and tried to reach Magnificus. There was no answer. He tried to hail his old lab partner again, then several more times, all with no response. Now, Highlight felt this whole affair was becoming highly suspicious. It couldn’t be a co-incidence that Magnificus name-dropped Destron-Laserwave to him during their suspensions, and now he’s not replying to his calls. Maybe… just maybe… it also could explain why Highlight couldn’t remember returning to his domestic quarters after Magnificus offered him another drink.

Speaking of another drink, Highlight felt he could use one right now. Somehow, he’ll have to sort this matter out, not to mention see if he could find another company to whom he could pitch his MP.29 proposal. If Destron-Laserwave didn’t want him anymore, it’s their loss they’ll lose his ideas with him. Or perhaps Magnificus had a point by unwittingly suggesting going into business for himself! One good thing about his newfound freedom and his Golden Age talk: infinite new possibilities were now opening up before him. But first, it’s off to Maccadam’s…

* * * * *

{Continued next post...}
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Old 05-30-2021, 03:58 PM   #2
Outtsyder
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Re: "Wave, Goodbye" (G1 Shockwave speculative origin story)

{Part 2}


The violet-and-olive transport truck, carrying a single deep-purple metallic cube in its otherwise empty flatbed cargo bay, wheeled through the tunnels of the underground Decepticon base. Megatron had ordered an officers’ meeting, and after their previous invasion yielded such mediocre results, appearing late would exacerbate their leader’s already tense mood. Concerns over tardiness were allayed when the vehicle reached the entrance to the command centre. The metal cube unfolded into a basic utilitarian humanoid shape, leaping from the truck’s cargo bay onto the tarmac; the truck transformed likewise into its own robot mode with thick armor on his shoulders and torso. The basic-shaped robot punched a code into the keypad by the door, which slid open for the two robots to enter the command centre, outwardly stoic but internally nervous, knowing what this meeting was about. There, they found Megatron and a seated Soundwave with their backs toward the entrance, while analyzing streams and blocks of data appearing and shifting on the main computer’s multiple screens.

“Keep working, Soundwave. I shall attend to our colleagues.”

“As you command, Megatron,” the Communications Officer droned, focusing the attention of his multi-channel mind on the intercepted signals on the computer.

Megatron turned to find his guests at attention, their right forearms across their chests in salute. “Blacklight, Dropkick; at ease,” he said, gesturing for his subordinates to meet him at the circular tabletop platform in the middle of the command centre. “I trust you both understand the reason I have summoned you here.”

The nervous tension in both officers grew a few degrees, not knowing if anything they said would upset their leader any further than they thought he already was. Blacklight, the basic-bodied robot, took a risk by being the first to speak. “My sincere apologies, Megatron, but –”

“Apologies are not necessary, Blacklight,” Megatron interrupted the infantry captain. However, any sense of relaxation was snuffed out when he continued with a stern edge in his voice. “Nor are they accepted. I entrusted the mission to you after I spent several solar cycles plotting the strategy, ensuring you could execute the plan with little to no problem. I believed you could succeed without my supervision in the field. The payoff was not negligible, but the losses you incurred set back our agenda.”

“We understand your displeasure, Megatron,” Blacklight replied defensively. “But there was no warning of the Guardian robots. We had no intel on them, and we were taken by surprise.”

“How do you hide an overgrown sentinel that size?!” Megatron burst. “And you dare shift the blame from your responsibility on the mission?! Those resources were a critical step toward putting ‘Project: Seeker’ into production! We need a dedicated aerial force, if we expect to have all facets covered in our conquest of Cybertron!”

“Do we have another point of attack picked out?” Dropkick inquired, internally wincing to himself over whether or not he should have spoken up.

“We have one selected,” Megatron answered, “but with several Guardian robots already set in place, we are far from prepared unless a miracle comes our way to eliminate them.”

“Well, maybe what we need is some new super-weapon of our own, for missions when you’re not with us. It’ll be a big help to take down those giants.”

Frustration seethed behind Megatron’s blood-red optic lenses as he scowled at Dropkick, almost trying to make him wither with his glare. “It’s a good thing I placed you in charge of materials acquisition, Dropkick. Because when it comes to military strategy, you certainly have a talent for stating the obvious!”

“No disrespect, Megatron, but Dropkick may have a point about our weaponry. In the first two raids, with or without your presence, we had it easy. Now, with the Guardians deployed, we don’t stand a chance unless we’re armed with something comparable to the caliber of your fusion cannon. Our blasters can handle an ordinary Cybertronian, but they don’t have the power to scratch a Guardian robot’s armor, let alone dent it.”

Megatron’s patience wore thin as he argued with his subordinates over the newly-imposed impasse in their plans. Not long after assuming Decepticon command, he eliminated the former Autobot leader Sentinel Prime and gained significant momentum in acquiring territory for his budding empire. Their secret underground staging bases protected them and their assets from detection by Autobots or neutrals, as each phase unfolded without fail… until now. Megatron did have it rather easy, being able to plot strategies himself and join his warriors on the front line with each operation. It was simply a bad coincidence that the Guardian robots were put into action on the first mission Megatron had entrusted to another officer. But being overmatched did nothing to help the Decepticon agenda, its progress now suffering this unexpected hindrance. Something had to be done: bolstering their weapons, or recruiting a lieutenant with credentials needed in a military operations commander. Or both… which would be a luxury at this stage.

“Megatron, attention,” Soundwave’s voice cut into the heated discussion. “Intercepted televised signal. Origin of broadcast: Destron-Laserwave.”

“This is not the time for a commercial break, Soundwave,” Megatron growled.

“Correction. Broadcast promotes a possible new weapon for Decepticon arsenal.”

Megatron became intrigued; this transmission could give the moment’s morale a much-needed boost. “Very well, play back the signal.”

Soundwave stood from his seat, faced the middle of the command centre, and transformed to his crossbar-shaped utility tower form, his chest panel forming a light screen. An interface cable extended from his back and linked to the computer’s dashboard. A holographic image of what looked like a hand-held energy blaster projected from Soundwave’s chest panel, and hovered over the central tabletop platform as a rich-sounding voice-over spoke:

“Imagine a toolkit. A workshop. And self-defense. All in one tool. Communicate with a radio transmitter. Create warmth with a blanket of infra-red. Pierce the darkness by shedding visible light on the subject. Unveil hidden secrets under the ultra-violet, and with your own X-ray vision. And make any threat catch some gamma rays… all with a single envelope of electromagnetics. Introducing the new MP.29 laser vulcan. Feel the power of the stars, in the palm of your hand. From Destron-Laserwave.”

Blacklight and Dropkick were almost certain they spotted Megatron subtly grinning after the commercial ended. “It appears you may soon have the weapons you wanted, Blacklight,” he said as Soundwave transformed back to robot mode and the interface cable disconnected from the computer and snaked back into his body. “Soundwave, contact Destron-Laserwave immediately, and request an order for all available stock on the MP.29. I don’t care how much they say it will cost us; we must have their entire stock of laser vulcans for our use.”

“But I thought we don’t have enough resources to pay for an order that big,” Dropkick cut in.

“We won’t have to pay for it,” Megatron chuckled maliciously. “Once we place our order, we’ll simply pay them a visit, take everything we need, and destroy the rest!”

Megatron’s laugh echoed throughout the command centre. Blacklight and Dropkick couldn’t help shedding their worries from before and joining him, already anticipating their next plunder.

* * * * *

“… Introducing the new MP.29 laser vulcan. Feel the power of the stars, in the palm of your hand. From Destron-Laserwave.”

The promo clip played on the screens in public venues and personal domiciles alike, bearing devices tuned into the frequencies on which the commercial was broadcast. Word about the new laser vulcan was already spreading as soon as viewers were captivated by the promo’s imagery depicting its all-in-one capabilities, as well as triggering debate on the tool’s safety for use in the general public. Some of that discussion rippled among the patrons imbibing cocktails of energon and oils at Maccadam’s, where the ad had also played on its main screen by the bar.

The same bar where Highlight went to clear his mind, after Destron-Laserwave fired him.

And he was still at that same bar when the commercial aired. Highlight stared silently at the screen, as the slick images of the laser vulcan – images that he created! – hovered and rotated in all angles, showing off its features in a brief attractive show. Anger didn’t take long to build fast in his emotional centers, topping out as soon as the voice-over closed off the promo.

“From Destron-Laserwave.”

Destron-Laserwave! It came together so obviously. That’s it! That’s the connection! Highlight knew he had to do something, and he wasn’t going to wait. He guzzled down the last drops of his Michelobay brew, unthinkingly slammed down his payment on the counter – with more than double the normal amount for a tip – and stormed out of the tavern. He didn’t stop to think about the high-grade fuel affecting his balance and navigation protocols as he transformed to his hover sled mode and erratically raced back to the place where the new ownership stripped him of both his invention and his job. All that mattered to Highlight now was a new order of business.

* * * * *

The text on the executive office’s wall screen read:

Manufacturer: Destron-Laserwave
Model #: MP.29
Weapon type: laser vulcan (energy weapon, ray gun)

Features:
* Weapon emits beams of energy from entire range of the electromagnetic spectrum; variable switch for setting frequency; nature of weapon drains power source rapidly
* Intensity of beam output can be varied, allowing weapon to be used for non-offensive purposes (e.g. searchlight, scanner/detector, signal transmitter/jammer, etc.)
* Miniature nuclear reactor with focused laser array – manufactured by Astro Magnum Precision Lasers & Electromagnetics – accommodates a variety of fuel cells for power sources; energon, radioactive, and electrical cells yield most efficient results
* Insulated conduit cable contains inert gas coolant; draws excess heat from reactor into chamber leading to heat sinks for dissipation
* Barrel has strategically-cut slots for heat sinks, preventing weapon from overheating
* Retractable rangefinder


The executive officer in the chamber smugly admired his stolen handiwork, relaxing in his seat. He must admit, it was nice to work in a place where, not only was he in the control cockpit, but he could finally sit down. Perhaps acting outside rigid rules and following ethics was against his usual modus operandi at Astro Magnum. But on the other hand, he knew a good deal when he saw one. All he needed to make it work was a solid plan to put into action.

His intercom buzzed, prompting him to press the blinking button on his office communicator on his bureau. “Whatcha got?”

“Mags, you’re not going to believe this, but we just got an order for our entire stock of MP.29s!”

“You’re kidding.”

“No way! Said it’s an immediate order from someone named Megatron. He wants to buy every MP.29 we’ve got! They’ve already placed the pre-order, and they’re on their way to pick it up!”

“A pre-order sellout on the first day? This is way too good to be true. How much are we making from this transaction?”

“Get this, Mags. I told them they’d have to pay ten thousand shanix all in advance. But instead, they wire-transferred two thousand now, and said they’ll pay another fifteen thousand when they get here to pick up their order!”

Seventeen thousand shanix?! Damn, this Megatron guy must really want our stuff badly. Not that I’m complaining. How’s the order coming along?”

“Got our shipping department right on it; all our laser vulcans are getting packed up now.”

“Terrific. We should start producing a second run as soon as this order gets sold. Only this time, we charge double the price!”

“Already working on a new promo, Mags. Got notes like ‘immediate sellout’ and ‘by popular demand’ punched in my datapad. I’ll zip out a draft to PR, ASAP.”

“I gotta say, joining this place really is the best business move I’ve ever made. That is, until we make another mega-hit product. They’ll be dying for a sequel.”

“I like the way you think, pal. I’ll meet you in a few cycles.”

“I’ll be waiting, buddy. Magnificus out.”

* * * * *

“Oh, hi, Highlight; I’ve sent your message to –”

“Clamp it, Filesave,” the tipsy Highlight snapped as he barreled into Destron-Laserwave’s lobby. “Where’s Magnificus? Where’s his office?”

“Er, I’m afraid he’s still having that meeting, so he can’t see anyone. But I can schedule an appointment for you at—”

Highlight slammed his fist on the receptionist’s desk. “Where is he?!

“Um… suite 217, level Theta,” Filesave hesitated meekly. The enraged Highlight stormed down the corridor toward the nearest elevator, his steps stumbling slightly as the effects of the energon beverage from Maccadam’s still clouded his perceptions. Waiting until the intruder was at a safe distance, Filesave activated her intercom. “Boss, Highlight just burst in here and he’s heading straight for you. I couldn’t keep him back. Should I alert security?”

A short pause came before Magnificus’ voice replied from the receiver. “No. I expected him to find out sooner or later. Don’t worry about me, babe-bot. I got it covered.”

The intercom was voice only, but Filesave could almost swear she could “hear” him wink at her.

* * * * *

This is too easy, Highlight thought as the elevator door whooshed open on level Theta. Though the effects of his drink were wearing off very slowly, he was almost certain that someone would at least try to stop him. But he saw no sign of any security droids or noise of an alarm. Trying to regain some of his bearings as he stomped down the corridor for the office door he sought, Highlight really didn’t care if anyone or anything got in his way. But having met not a single obstacle until he came to suite 217, part of his intuition circuits had a buzzing that the real “obstacle” was behind that door. It didn’t matter, as he rammed his shoulder against the door, denting it but failing to make it budge. Drawing a power surge build-up from the high-grade Michelobay, Highlight reared back and charged the door again, smashing it off the pneumatic sliding assembly and slamming it flat on the floor.

He expected to find Magnificus in the office chamber. He also expected to find some sort of evidence of the MP.29 laser vulcan in there as well. But what he didn’t expect was the presence of a second robot – short and stocky, in a paint scheme of yellow-brown and dark purple – helping Magnificus inspect the contents of a large crate sitting on top of the bureau.

A fraction of Destron-Laserwave’s full stock of laser vulcans. That he designed.

“Well. Good of you to drop by, ‘old partner’,” Magnificus sneered at the uninvited guest. “I’m surprised you didn’t come sooner. Had to get sloshed at Maccadam’s again, hm?”

Highlight glanced at the weapons in the crate, and glared at the unknown robot. “Who in the universe are you supposed to be?”

“Ah, yes, how impolite of me,” Magnificus cut in. “Let me introduce you to the co-owner of Destron-Laserwave. Highlight, meet Swindle. Swindle? Highlight.”

Swindle, Highlight thought. Perfectly suitable name… for both of you.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Swindle said with a dishonest plastic smile. He offered the formality of an insincere handshake, which he knew Highlight would never accept it anyway.

“Can the ironslag, you two. You know why I’m here. And I know you did it, Magnificus.”

Magnificus didn’t bother to give a false act of innocence or a weak denial. “Heh. In your mental state, I’m surprised you can think, never mind ‘know’ anything. Except for…” He trailed his sentence as he slowly pulled out one of the laser vulcans from the shipping crate. “… this. Look familiar, ‘old partner’?” He twirled the laser vulcan around his finger by the handle and trigger junction, showing off like a gunslinger. “I can guess what you’re thinking, and what you want to say. ‘Why, Magnificus? Why’d you cut me loose,’ and all that?”

Highlight’s rage was heating up, with or without the drink at Maccadam’s still influencing his perceptions. But he forced himself to listen to the smug con artists, just to hear their story – whether or not it was true – before he’d punch their photocells out.

“Well, Highlight, to put it bluntly… I got a better deal. And I needed a new partner.”

Now Highlight felt a dose of confusion mixing with his anger and the high-grade already in his system. Could this ’bot really go so far as to sell out our whole company that prided itself on innovative and visionary thinking, to a greedy upstart that cared nothing about ethics before profit? And what’s more, why would he jump companies and betray Astro Magnum’s ideals, and take things this far? “You never did get suspended, did you?” he snarled at his former partner. “That was all a ruse.”

“Impressive deduction, even while intoxicated,” Magnificus laughed, as Swindle joined in. “You see, I talked with Swindle here about how Destron-Laserwave did business. And this company appreciated something that I believed in. Structure. And defined rules.

“You gotta understand, bud,” Swindle added to Magnificus’ explanation, “that you need a set plan if you wanna rake in the big money. It doesn’t matter one bit if your methods are corrupt; it’s all about how far you can go. Win at all costs, but cut your own costs.”

“Sounds more to me like, ‘win however you can, but always cheat’,” Highlight rebutted.

Magnificus and Swindle just laughed harder, almost feeling optic lens lubricant leaking from their socket ducts. “I like that one!” Swindle guffawed. “That’s perfect for a company poster; I gotta remember that!”

“Will you cut the carbo-scrap and get serious for once?!” Highlight bellowed.

Magnificus began to calm down somewhat, but kept his mocking gaze on Highlight while still toting the laser vulcan in his hand. “Now how’s that for irony, you demanding seriousness from me, huh? Okay, if you really want to know that badly. I ratted on you to get you out of the way, then had secret talks with Swindle on my time off. Outside company time, I might add.”

“Yeah, when he told me this thing about a laser vulcan,” Swindle joined in, “I knew we both had offers that we couldn’t refuse.”

“As for ‘your’ MP.29, I finally understood its value. But marketing it as a civilian tool was a total waste of its potential. So we arranged for Destron-Laserwave to take over Astro Magnum, and improved ‘your’ design. Now we’re in the business of selling weapons. With that military campaign with those flying robots running around, you know a war’s going to break out.”

“And selling weapons to all sides fighting the same war?” added Swindle rhetorically. “What better way to make – wait for it – a killing?!

It’s a good thing for them, that these two cyber-clowns are enjoying their own amateur comedy night, Highlight seethed silently as he felt forced to watch his arrogant hosts laughing at their own flippant jokes. Because this captive audience member is not impressed!

“So all it took was to get some authorization from you to hand over your rights to the MP.29,” said Magnificus, “and now we’re about to make a small fortune on a first-cycle sellout!”

“I never gave you the rights to the MP.29!” Highlight snapped in protest.

“Oh, but you did. Remember when I met you at Maccadam’s? Never mind, of course you don’t; you were jack-hammered. So let me fill in the blank in that creative memory of yours. I gave you another drink after all the others you already had – just enough to make you pass out. While you were unconscious, I brought out my data pad with a transfer-of-ownership file, and uploaded your electronic signature on it. The last piece to get you out of our business was erase your name on the MP.29 proposal – the only copy in existence – and sign mine instead.”

For Highlight, this was getting closer and closer to the last strontium straw. The sheer lack of scruples that Magnificus was displaying in his story was almost enough to commit justifiable mech-icide on his ex-lab partner. “Let me guess; then you got promoted here, and canned me and everyone else from Astro Magnum, right?”

“Close. I thought Magnificus did such a – ahem – magnificent job,” Swindle corrected, trying hard for once to stifle a chuckle at his own pun, “that I made him my new co-owner. We just finished buying out my old partner’s contract!”

“Remember how you said anything could happen in the Golden Age? It just did,” Magnificus scoffed while twirling his laser vulcan around his finger again. “Oh, I followed something else you told me – ‘insight and foresight are everything’ – but you forgot one critical element. Insight and foresight are nothing… without action. And I took that action.”

Action, huh, Highlight thought, as he deftly hid his left hand behind his back, retracted his hand inside his wrist socket, and silently extended his laser pointer. If he doesn’t shut up, I’ll have to take a desperate action of my own –

“Oh, by the way, if you were sober enough to remember anything from Maccadam’s, you might recall I did offer you a spot with Destron-Laserwave,” Magnificus gloated while still toying with the laser vulcan in his hand. “Okay, it was a verbal contract, but technically still an offer I made out of courtesy, since we were lab partners. But because you said no,” pausing momentarily to mockingly aim the weapon at Highlight, “you were out! So hey, you can’t say I didn’t do you a favor. I even did you the favor of paying for your drinks, and hauling your plastered aft back to your place! I simply took the favor you owed me.”

“But maybe you can do us one other favor,” Swindle jumped in with a smirk. “We could use a hand in getting this crate down to the big shipment for our customer when he shows up. Care to volunteer and help us out?”

And there went that last strontium straw. Highlight whipped his left arm forward and tried to aim the laser pointer at Magnificus’ faceplate. But Magnificus was quicker on the draw, pulling the trigger on his laser vulcan and fusing Highlight’s laser pointer with a searing beam of infra-red radiation. Highlight clutched his arm in pain, as his pointer melted instantly from the blast and cauterized his wrist socket. Swindle grinned maliciously, watching his co-owner having his way with his ousted former lab partner.

“I have to admit, you’ve got some real bearings, though you’re outgunned,” Magnificus jeered as he closed in on Highlight. Though his foe was at point-blank range, he wanted to savor this moment, training his laser vulcan’s rangefinder on his target, and focusing him in the middle of its crosshairs. “But I think it’s time for the final dispatch. Unless you have anything to say before you’re – in a very literal sense of the term – fired?

Wincing through his heat-induced injury, Highlight surreptitiously glanced in the immediate vicinity for any kind of opportunity to turn the tables on his treacherous assailant. Though just a few steps away, the bureau where the crate of MP.29s was stacked was too far for him to make a leap for it and grab a weapon of his own, before Magnificus could blast him again. He couldn’t cross that distance fast enough… but he could try another path…

“I do, in fact,” Highlight groaned, locking his optics on Magnificus, anticipating any hints that he may pull the trigger again anytime. “You know that thing about insight, foresight, and action?”

“Yes, what about it?”

“You forgot one other thing that makes progress.”

Magnificus grew impatient, wishing he just finished Highlight off without letting him have any last words. “And what would that be?”

Through tensed internal mechanics ready for action, Highlight answered, “Personal… drive.

In a flash, Highlight transformed to his hover sled mode and charged at Magnificus, surprising him for a moment just long enough to forget about his weapon. Swindle suddenly leapt sideways away from the attack while Highlight ran into Magnificus and slammed him against the heavy bureau, knocking the crate to the floor and spilling out its contents. Highlight switched back to robot mode and snatched a laser vulcan with his good right hand as Magnificus collapsed to the floor on his skidplate. Just as Magnificus tried to shoot again, Highlight beat him this time, flashing a burst of high-intensity light from his own laser vulcan, overloading Magnificus’ optics into blindness and causing him to involuntarily drop his weapon. With his ex-lab partner disarmed and disabled, Highlight seized and exploited his advantage, using the stub of his melted left wrist to reset the frequency dial on his weapon, though with great difficulty. As Highlight aimed his MP.29 once more at the blinded Magnificus sprawling on the floor, Swindle took advantage of not being the object of attention, darting out the door before Highlight could mark him as his next target. Well, he thought while scrambling for the closest exit from the building, at least I still got my pre-paid deposit from that Megatron guy….

Highlight eyed Magnificus and pulled the trigger. Gamma rays delivered the killing blow.

But he wasn’t finished yet. With his entire livelihood robbed from him in the past two quartexes, he felt the least he could do was exact some retribution in his final act. He looked at the laser vulcans scattered on the floor: items that, by all rights, should be his from which he should be drawing profit. Not Magnificus. Not Swindle. And certainly not Destron-Laserwave.

He came to an absolute decision. If I can’t have my own invention… no one can.

* * * * *

Blaring throughout the building were security alarms and recorded announcements of “Evacuate the area” and “This is not a drill.” Regardless of how far their progress was on their jobs, even those just one step away from completion, the workers in Destron-Laserwave’s various wings and offices – including Filesave the receptionist, who spotted Swindle dash out the exit a few cycles ago, without saying a word to her – knew better than to ignore the warning and keep on working. Just like in a safety drill, they assembled in a calm and orderly fashion and evacuated the building. Whatever was happening inside, they hoped the automated security measures could deal with the problem so they could get back to work.

On level Theta, the scorched, wrecked Highlight limped out of Magnificus’ devastated office, thick smoke and particulate debris pouring out the door after him as he clutched the laser vulcan in his intact right hand – the last laser vulcan from the crate after he destroyed all the others. The collective blast from the other weapons’ internal nuclear mini-reactors exploding ripped gashes in Highlight’s body, knocked panels loose from various spots on his hull, and tore away almost half his faceplate, exposing the cranial infrastructure underneath. The radiation from that same explosion penetrated his external wounds, melting vital servo-mechanisms and burning out circuitry wiring that were exposed. But that still wasn’t enough to stop him. That crate was only one part of the full shipment that had to be destroyed. And unless Destron-Laserwave changed the building’s directory during his suspension, Highlight knew exactly where to go.

Trudging on fused legs through the corridors, Highlight was entirely focused on his single-minded mission; looking half-hunter, half-mecha-zombie, unfazed by the security droids mobilized to subdue him. With their AI programming, nimble maneuverability, and defensive armament, they would have no problem handling an aggressor in this condition. But on its gamma-ray setting, the MP.29 in Highlight’s hand was more than an equalizer. It was as though the security droid were facing a one-robot army… and losing miserably.

The workers waiting outside the building huddled together and anxiously speculated on what could be happening inside. They had only heard that Swindle had run off, plus rumors of Magnificus having a bad accident, and the intrusion of a disgruntled ex-employee who was let go before Astro Magnum was taken over. This business is growing by great strides, their partly-informed opinions contemptuously thought, and already someone’s resorting to violent, anti-expansionist vigilantism. No problem. If that’s the case, they reasoned, then the droids should eliminate one lone offender with no problem, and work can get back to normal.

They would be wrong.

Having picked off every security drone on his way through the building, Highlight finally reached the wing he was looking for: the open platform marked by a sign reading “Order Pick-Up.” Scoping out the area, he found piles and stacks of crates all over the wide area, assuming that his target was hiding among them. Remembering the multi-purpose functions of his MP.29, he pressed the melted stub of his left wrist socket against the control dials, and changed the settings to moderate-intensity X-rays. Using the laser vulcan as a scanning tool – a function he had originally intended for his old invention – the beam revealed the contents inside the crates he sorted through. Before long, he found the quarry he was looking for: a giant stack of crates, arranged eight across, eight wide, and eight high, save for one missing in a corner at the top.

Five hundred and eleven crates of MP.29 laser vulcans.

Highlight stared coldly at his prey, emotionally numbed and detached, while painfully resetting the dials on his laser vulcan to gamma ray again – on the highest possible setting – not caring about the fact that he was about to obliterate more than five hundred crates of his own creation.

A creation that was no longer his. And after this point of no return, it would never belong to anyone ever again.

Highlight raised his MP.29, aimed it at the center of the gigantic stockpile… and fired.

* * * * *

{Concludes next post....}
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Old 05-30-2021, 04:06 PM   #3
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Re: "Wave, Goodbye" (G1 Shockwave speculative origin story)

{Part 3}


The Decepticons were already on their way to Destron-Laserwave when the disaster struck. Megatron and Soundwave led the way while flying in robot mode, accompanied by scores of truck-mode transport drones rolling on the ground below in close-order formations. Per their strategy, their warriors were folded up in their cube-shaped disguises, riding in the drone vehicles’ cargo bays and impatiently waiting to inflict some carnage, not knowing their job had already been done for them… just far worse than they had in mind.

“Long-range sensors indicate a sudden energy surge,” Soundwave informed his leader. “Signal readings detect source at 750 mechanometers straight ahead.”

Megatron looked ahead in mid-flight and spotted a faint wavering plume of dark smoke in the distance. The warlord had a sinking feeling, knowing that was where Destron-Laserwave was located. But also didn’t want to come this far, only to turn back if there might be anything of value left to recoup from the wreckage. “Deploy advance reconnaissance,” he ordered.

Soundwave pressed the silver button on his left shoulder, opening his chest panel. “Laserbeak, eject. Operation: surveillance.” A compact red-silver-&-black data cartridge launched from inside Soundwave’s chest, and morphed into Laserbeak’s ovoid scout craft mode. The mech-avian scout zipped ahead of the other Decepticons toward the smoke, and gained altitude to stay out of sight from anyone on the ground. Laserbeak reached the site of destruction, avoiding flying into the rising smoke, and circled over it like a vulture waiting for its next meal to expire. Looking down, he magnified his keen, long-distance optical scanners and focused on the vicinity of the ruined facility, surveying the activity; he spotted small clusters of mechanoids gathered at a safe distance nearby. Normally, Laserbeak would fly back to Soundwave to report his findings, but the urgency of this situation required immediate radio contact with his master.

On either side of the rectangular, translucent yellow optic lens in the middle of Laserbeak’s hooked nosecone, tiny panels slid open for retractable T-shaped antennae to extend from inside his head. Maintaining his circular flight path over the smoking rubble, Laserbeak transmitted his report back to Soundwave, who picked up his signal and relayed the report to Megatron. “Laserbeak reports Destron-Laserwave is destroyed. Intelligence indicates an explosion came from inside the structure. Workers have evacuated and are still in the area. No sign of combat, nor presence of Guardian robots or emergency teams.”

“No Guardians, eh?” Megatron rhetorically repeated. “Perhaps Destron-Laserwave had an industrial accident. In any case, we may still get there before the emergency squads arrive. And there may yet be some salvage left for us to harvest.”

“Hey, boss; what should we do about the phyllorium peanut gallery hanging around there?” Dropkick buzzed Megatron over their internal radio. “Can we blow ’em away?”

“No, Dropkick. I have an idea. I’ll do the talking. You just play along.”

Once the Decepticons reached their destination, Soundwave summoned Laserbeak to return to the safety of his chest compartment; he and Megatron landed in front of the charred remains of Destron-Laserwave, with the drone vehicles screeching to a halt behind them. The once-rising business headquarters now bore a vague resemblance to a crude volcano with its top rim curled inside out, the continuous flow of thick smoke erupting from the inside. Fused construction materials and smashed workshop equipment were scattered among the crumbled ruins. The extent of the damage implied that this was no industrial accident. Megatron would have admired the destructive talents of whoever was responsible for this… but not their timing.

Megatron’s timing, however, was impeccable, and he had to capitalize on this moment as he noticed the small crowds cautiously approaching him. It was apparent that they had only vaguely heard about these fabled “flying robots”, but never seen them before. They also didn’t realize that these robots were the customers who had come to claim their order of laser vulcans... nor did they clue in that they may be responsible for the reported attacks in recent cycles. Judging by the reactions from these poor workers who’ve just seen their payroll detonated, the ruse Megatron was about to play would be that much easier to pull off. The joys of bureaucracy, he thought to himself. Have your grunts believe their dirty work is their only concern. They don’t need to know everything on the penthouse level. Amateur, but admirable.

But if the Decepticons were to perform their work without interference, Megatron had to play his cards now. He strode toward the awestruck crowd, holding up his hand. “May I have your attention, please,” he announced. “This is a Class Omega emergency, hazard level Extreme. Our crews have arrived to contain this site. However, we request that all of you leave the area immediately; both for your personal safety, and for the crew to efficiently complete our work.” He then turned toward his drone army and shouted, “Secure the perimeter!”

One transport truck rolled ahead of the drone vehicles’ formation and stopped beside Megatron. The cargo transformed into Blacklight’s robot shape, while the truck shape-shifted likewise into Dropkick. The disguised cargo units in the other transport drone trucks also unfolded into their robot modes identical to Blacklight; posing as a security force, Blacklight directed the warriors to form a perimeter around the wrecked building and order the civilians to return home. The transport drones also transformed to their robot modes resembling Dropkick, and made their way toward the site inside the boundary set by the warriors.

Megatron watched the employees leaving the area while Soundwave supervised Blacklight and Dropkick directing traffic with their respective departments. As long as everyone is cleared far from this area, Megatron thought, the work should go well… at least as well as can be hoped for in this unexpected turn of events, barring interruptions.

“Excuse me,” squeaked a feminine voice behind the Decepticon leader.

Megatron turned around to find a shy-looking Filesave gazing up at him. “Can I help you?”

“Um, well,” she stammered, not really knowing what to say to this newcomer. “You’re… you’re one of those flying robots, aren’t you?”

“That’s correct,” Megatron replied, inwardly cursing this foolish femme-bot for missing the obvious, since he had landed right in front of them just moments ago.

“Oh,” Filesave continued, blushing in Megatron’s presence. “I’ve heard about robots who can fly. I just… I never thought I’d actually meet one. What’s… what’s your name, sir?”

If Megatron didn’t have to maintain the Decepticons’ cover as an emergency team, he’d have blasted her for wasting his time. “My name is Megatron. Is there anything you wish to inform me about? You understand we’re busy here, and we must work undisturbed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Megatron; I do understand,” Filesave blurted in embarrassment. “It’s just that… well, I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again, but… may I trouble you for an autograph?”

Megatron couldn’t believe his ploy was this effective. Well, there was a reason he and his followers were called Decepticons. “Why, no trouble at all,” he said with false graciousness.

Filesave excitedly brought out a small datapad and a laser stylus, which Megatron accepted to scrawl his signature for this admirer. “Thank you so much, Megatron; this is such an honor!”

“Believe me, the honor is all mine,” Megatron lied with the strongest front of sincerity he could muster, his patience tested by this nuisance. “And I’m certain you will see me again some other time.” He handed the datapad and stylus back to Filesave and shook her hand.

“Oh, I can’t wait, sir!” Filesave blurted while vigorously shaking Megatron’s strong black hand clasped around hers. In a moment of spontaneity, she reached with her free hand to briskly rub the purple Decepticon symbol on his armored chestplate, then dashed off, diving head-first to the tarmac as she transformed to her cruiser-cycle mode. Her tires squealed as she raced down the road, the screeching barely covering her whoop of joy – sounding something like, “I touched his symbol! I touched his symbol!” – from meeting this celebrity.

Megatron almost felt sorry for this scatterbrained little fool – almost – scowling as he watched her speed off in the distance. “What a gullible breed.”

“Hey, boss!” Dropkick called out. Apparently, he saw the whole thing while he and his drone crew were working. “What the slag was that all about?”

Megatron turned to the site and strode into the warrior drones’ perimeter. “You don’t want to know. And frankly, nor do I.”

“Good thing for that,” Dropkick snorted. “I think we found something. Or… someone, I guess.”

Megatron joined Dropkick, who was accompanied by two of his transport drones. They had just cleared away a heap of twisted, half-melted rubble, and uncovered a dismembered body that was entombed underneath. Both legs were severed above the knees, and the torso had a wide, deep gash with melted edges across the chest. The left forearm was crushed beyond repair and missing its hand, but the right arm suffered a few cracked-open panels exposing internal circuitry. The worst damage was to the head, so extensive that any distinguishable external features were either completely stripped away or permanently disfigured. The helmet was vertically split in half and two-thirds of the faceplate were torn away, unmasking the face of a metallic skull inside with its jaw gaping open and fluids leaking out. Internal sensory modules like optic sensors disintegrated into ash. Miraculously, the brain casing was still intact.

“Holy slag,” Dropkick muttered. “Whatever happened to this guy, there ain’t much of him left. What do we do with it?”

“Soundwave,” Megatron ordered, “scan for life signs.”

The Decepticon Communications Officer stepped forward and crouched over the mutilated robot body. He activated the cylindrical sensor mounted on his right shoulder and scanned the carcass, searching for anything viable. “Energy signature detected,” Soundwave reported. “Presence of spark in stasis lock. Vital signs low.”

“So he is alive after all,” Megatron pondered. “I want a closer look at this… survivor.”

Soundwave trained his optic sensors and concentrated intensely on the victim’s brain casing. Scanning frequencies radiated from behind his deep-red optic visor lens and penetrated the casing, searching through the survivor’s memory banks, neuro-wiring, and other components in his cerebro-cortex. The data within was only partially scrambled, but there was enough to put together something of substance from the weakened mental impulses he could find.

“Condition of brain: cerebral impulses present, but on low-level power. Memory banks intact. Emotional circuitry burnt out due to radiation-induced overload. Logic centers damaged, but replaceable with upgrades.” Soundwave paused to study the memory banks further, and uncovered more information on the victim. “Subject identification: Highlight. Former technician in micro-electronics and design with Astro Magnum Precision Lasers & Electromagnetics. Released from occupation due to corporate takeover by Destron-Laserwave; attempted revenge by sabotaging stock of MP.29 laser vulcans.”

“So he’s the one who blew up our guns, and took this whole place with it!” Blacklight snarled. “Let me put him out of his misery so we can get some value for our deposit. He’ll die anyway.”

“Negative,” Soundwave countered. “One more item detected in memory. Scanning now.”

“Don’t waste your time,” Dropkick grumbled in frustration. “If we came all the way here to find a blown-up factory, a thrashed lab-bot, and no spoils to show for it, then I’m with Blacklight. Let’s just finish him off!”

But Soundwave’s last item in his diagnosis stayed the brute’s desire to inflict some violence. “Memory scan also identifies subject as true inventor of the MP.29 laser vulcan.”

“Is he now?” Megatron asked, as he observed the body closely, scratching his chin in thought. The Decepticons may not be able to plunder the goods they wanted, but with some innovative thinking and a calculated gamble on their resources, they could make off with a much greater prize. “How much longer until his spark extinguishes completely?”

“Three hundred thousand astroseconds in stasis lock,” Soundwave replied.

“We may be able to work that,” Megatron pondered before studying the wrecked building. “Are there any useful materials left in this heap of rubble that we could recover?”

“Laserbeak’s cursory scan indicates marginal value-to-waste ratio,” said Soundwave, “but a fair quantity of reuseable materials can be accessed.”

Megatron ran a few more thoughts about their find, the building, and their supplies back at their base before one more query. “Can we create a new exostructure for him?”

As Soundwave sought through the accounted data stored in his hyper-dense memory modules, Blacklight and Dropkick looked at each other in surprise at Megatron’s question, wondering why he would contemplate such an idea after their heated discussion back at the command centre. Then again, they thought, Megatron wouldn’t risk draining their resources on saving the life of a busted-up off-liner, unless he knew it would pay back in greater dividends. He had something in mind, and this barely-functioning scrap pile of a robot held the key.

Soundwave reached an answer within two astroseconds of breaking down the data. “Affirmative. We can rebuild him. We have the technology.”

“Excellent!” That was all Megatron needed to hear, before he opened a channel in his internal radio comlink. “Decepticons, salvage all usable materials or spare parts you can find from this glorified scrapyard.” Turning to his officers, he added, “Soundwave; disengage Highlight’s automatic revival mechanisms so that he does not spontaneously emerge from stasis lock. Dropkick; secure the injured and prepare him for transport. Every micro-spark of energy in this otherwise decrepit husk must be preserved, if this plan is to work. Blacklight; remain here for the excavation. When the work here is completed, return to base immediately.”

The warriors and transport drones went straight to work without question. Dropkick transformed to vehicle mode as Soundwave and Blacklight carefully loaded the remains of Highlight’s quasi-corpse into Dropkick’s cargo bay. As Blacklight rejoined the drone army, Soundwave climbed aboard Dropkick’s bay and attended to the body. Once secured, Megatron took to the air with Dropkick and his passengers following on the ground.

* * * * *

If there was a primordial program or a primeval code equivalent to a deity – Megatron was aware of believers in Primus, but hadn’t fully committed to the faith – he would have thanked It for blessing him with his genius, even if pride would be considered a sin. Such a task with scant materials at their disposal would have been considered impossible by the average mechanoid. But Megatron always believed the word “impossible” was found only in the dictionary of fools.

Highlight, on the other hand, would have Soundwave to thank – if he were conscious – for the first step toward his second chance. The knowledge of cybernetic medicine and electronics archived within Soundwave’s enormous memory stores allowed the Communications Officer to hastily cobble together a makeshift life support / systems backup module, carefully extract Highlight’s brain casing and spark core from his old, useless shell, and link them to the module to extend his life beyond Soundwave’s earlier diagnosis. Being rescued from gradual, painless death still meant imprisonment in stasis, but only temporarily. Time was still needed until the means to end his indeterminate living-death sentence was ready.

That time was being spent feverishly by the Decepticons in their underground base. Soundwave was fortunate that the Destron-Laserwave accident failed to wipe Highlight’s memory; he copied the plans of the MP.29 laser vulcan – down to the last bit – without any hint of corruption of that data in Highlight’s mind… and found the inspiration for the new exostructure’s alternate mode for transformation. Laborers and chemical engineers refashioned the raw metals and ores – both the contents already in their storage wing, and the new loads delivered by the transport drones – into newer fortified alloys. Digital programmers sought methods to bolster Highlight’s already-impressive intellect, as presumed by Soundwave’s scan readouts on their patient’s brain. Electro-neurosurgeons conceived new circuitry schematics that could support the light-speed thought processes and sensory inputs of a living being with exceptionally enhanced mental proficiency. And Megatron insisted on installing thrusters to enable the patient to fly on its own power, like with himself and Soundwave. The idea for the fueling system, however, was already laid out for them by the small nuclear reactor found in the laser vulcan’s design. Under Megatron’s supervision and Soundwave’s mentorship, constructing the new body for their patient would go through nicely.

But the operation would not be perfect. Limited supplies, energy budgets and safety restrictions forced practical concerns and compromises, marring the purity of the vision for this life-saving procedure. Decisions were made to emphasize the patient’s mental processes, physical strength, and multiple uses of the electromagnetic spectrum ranging anywhere from research to firepower. An ideal situation would have accommodated full internalization of the components for radiation conduit wiring and life support inside Highlight’s new body. But aesthetics had to take a back seat, so creative ideas were brainstormed to help the patient live and thrive while harnessing his vast cerebral – and offensive – potential. If future invasion missions could bring in greater quantities of resources, they could collect a surplus of materials to upgrade the body to a more efficient configuration, if Highlight so desired. For now, though, this would have to suffice.

* * * * *

Staccato burst of harsh static. Silence. Blinding sparkle of white light. Darkness. Short buzz of electricity. Subtle scent of ozone. Flickering blurred image. More flashes of static. Muffled sounds. Signals. Voices. Yes, definitely voices. That was what he interpreted, as he felt something contacting and adjusting the sensors and receptors on his head. The more touches he felt, the more clearly he perceived the sensory images coming into focus, including the silver visage with narrow red rhomboid optic lenses, framed in an angled, faceted helmet.

“Highlight,” he saw the faceplate speak in a deep, rough voice, edging on his audio receptors. “Highlight, can you hear me?”

“Yes.” Highlight was briefly startled by his own reply. He expected his faceplate to move when he spoke, but noticed his mouth didn’t budge. He instinctively tried to open his jaw, only to learn first-hand that he had no jaw. “What…? What is…?” he spoke again in fragments, not knowing how he could produce speech without feeling movement in his faceplate. He tried to reach for his head but couldn’t move his arms, which were restrained by clamps on his wrists. He instinctively clenched his fists to exert more force on the clamps, then remembered losing his left hand. But in its place was a long, narrow nozzle, like the retractable laser pointer he once had, only larger.

Highlight tried to move his legs as well, also to find they were held down by his ankles in the same manner as his arms. He also noticed his legs felt different as well; thicker and stronger, with something encased inside his boot units. In fact, his entire body felt much different than before his ill-fated confrontation with Magnificus and Swindle; much more powerful, feeling even more energy generating and radiating inside his own torso, almost wanting to explode from the new components channeling that power inside his chassis.
“Relax, Highlight,” the silver stranger said, placing a hand on Highlight’s shoulder to calm him down. “We found you severely injured at the site of the accident. So we brought you back to our base and built a new body for you.” The stranger turned his faceplate away from Highlight’s sight and gave an order to someone outside his field of vision. “Soundwave, reposition the repair berth platform. Vertical orientation.”

With a mechanical whirr vibrating under his back, Highlight could feel the platform to which he was restrained that this stranger was talking about. He could also see his surroundings scrolling upward in his view, as the balance centers in his brain interpreted that he was now upright. Highlight heard the stranger’s voice say, “Release restraints,” and felt the clamps around his wrists and ankles snap open, releasing him from the platform.

Highlight looked down to the floor, unexpectedly catching a glimpse of his new look. He brought his forearms into view, confirming his earlier suspicion that his left hand was replaced. He also spotted a pair of purple, angular, sharp-pointed sigils emblazoned on his forearms, one on each arm. And there was something else on his left arm: a cable hung from the underside of his forearm, with the other end embedded into the left side of his back behind his shoulder. With his arms free, he reached for his faceplate with his right hand – his only hand – and his tactile sensors said his head was also completely different, resembling the shape of a hexagonal prism. Confusion set in as he realized nothing was the same, except for his purple color scheme.

“Mirror,” Highlight said uncomfortably, still not believing that he was producing his own voice with no facial movement. In fact, his voice sounded not like himself, either. Slightly stilted, short on emotion, with none of his old laid-back, casual air. “I need… a reflective surface. Now.”

Highlight spotted another mechanoid in the premises, deep blue and silver, whom he assumed to be the stranger’s assistant. The blue robot fetched a metallic panel from a countertop and handed it to Highlight, who snatched it from the assistant’s hand and held it up to view. He could not believe that the image staring back at him – a hexagonal-shaped head with short grey antennas, and a small single yellow round lightbulb in the centre of a completely featureless “face” – was him. He expected to feel shock and panic… and was taken aback that he felt more subdued than normal. Not only had his body changed, but something in his mind as well, as if the emotional responses he once had were drastically reduced. Not like his emotional energies collided with an imaginary barrier in their path and wanted to smash it down. It was more like those energies had been dialed back to reduce their potency. He couldn’t “feel” like he used to anymore.

“What… have I become? What has… happened to me…?” Highlight uttered, half to his hosts and half to himself, not knowing how to react. All he could see and feel was that everything about him was nothing like his former life, and he couldn’t muster a sense of shock or trauma that his old self would have had. However, a thought intruded in his mind as he spoke. Did he just notice a glow of light inside his head, blinking with each syllable he said? And was this coming from the lightbulb embedded in his own faceplate?

The stranger came forward, joining the blue assistant already in Highlight’s view. He could see more of the stranger’s body, bearing a wide chest plate sporting the same symbol in the middle, and a massive black cannon on his right arm. “I am Megatron, Leader of the Decepticons,” he introduced himself, then gesturing to the other mechanoid. “This is Soundwave, my right-hand and Communications Officer. We anticipated this is how you’d react when reactivated.”

“You… you knew this would happen? Why would you do this?”

“I’m afraid these measures were necessary. You see, we Decepticons are pursuing our destiny to control Cybertron, in our first step to conquest of the universe. But we have only just begun, and our resources to date are not abundant. However, thanks to Soundwave’s expertise and the efforts of my followers, leaving you to permanent deactivation would be a waste of your talents.”

“And this was the result of your best efforts?” Highlight retorted, his voice barely edging up a slight degree of intensity, as the mirrored metal slipped from his hand and clattered on the floor.

“Results were optimal due to imposed limitations,” Soundwave explained in his vocoded voice. “Internalizing conduit cable to nuclear reactor would intensify concentrated radiation; vital components would deteriorate. Head module required simplified design, emphasizing sensory processing efficiency. Life support and systems backup module was permanently incorporated as dorsal unit for survival. Remaining materials allowed creation of only one hand.”

“Indeed,” said Highlight, slowly overcoming the surprise of his new life, but still not quite ready to accept this new situation. “So what does this all mean for me now? Where do I go from here?”

“Come with us,” Megatron answered cordially, as he and Soundwave led Highlight from the medical laboratory. “And we’ll show you.”

* * * * *

“So as I had explained earlier,” Megatron continued as he and Soundwave guided Highlight on a tour of their base, “we must operate in secret, preventing current and future enemies from tracking us or learning when we’ll strike. But our last mission was stymied by the presence of Guardian robot sentinels, and I could not be present on site to alter our strategy on the spot.”

“Thus, you need an officer responsible for your operations’ strategic elements?” said Highlight, only partly sounding like a guess, but already deducing Megatron’s request.

“Exactly. But it’s more than that. Your logic centers have been enhanced for precisely that purpose, replacing the emotional circuitry we couldn’t save when operating on you. However, in an event that we may be forced to confront a powerful foe, we also need an even more powerful countermeasure.”
As Megatron spoke, the three Decepticons entered another wing of their secret base. It consisted of a wide unpaved path, with short stands on the far end of the chamber away from the visitors. Pieces of scrap sat atop the stands, while other scraps with puncture holes lay scattered on the ground by them. Objects in basic three-dimensional geometric forms acted like transmitters, emitting weak signals from their short antennas. “This is our target practice range,” Megatron said as he gestured to the facility. “You may test your new powers when ready.”

Highlight observed the various targets at the opposite wall. He selected a piece of scrap metal, trained his optic lens on the target, ran a diagnostic, and aimed the nozzle on his left wrist socket at it. A command from his brain travelled instantaneously to the reactor built into his chassis. Power generated and violently rushed through the conduit cable into his left forearm, and burst forth in a concentrated beam of light energy, burning a hole into the target.

“Good,” Megatron observed with a nod. “But this is only the start. When Soundwave designed your exostructure, he incorporated schematics of a particular project he found while studying your mind. You are in fact capable of drawing power from the entire electromagnetic spectrum.”

Highlight paused to run this idea through his mind. This sounded familiar, especially the phrases electromagnetic spectrum, particular project, and studying your mind. His logic circuits broke them all down and reached another conclusion, which he wordlessly put into action. He experimented with the other radiation weapons in his arsenal for different targets in the firing range. He jammed the transmitters with radio waves; melted down other scraps of metal with intense infra-red rays; induced fluorescence in a brightly-colored object with an ultra-violet burst; and uncovered the internal mechanisms of another transmitter with an X-ray emission.

Megatron and Soundwave watched in approval as Highlight tested out his newly-found powers. “Excellent. With enough practice, you shall harness your powers to the point that your mastery of them will be effortless.”

But there was one more question left to answer. “Megatron, you mentioned Soundwave incorporated schematics of a design he found in my mind. What exactly do you mean?” he asked, although he believed he already knew the answer.

Megatron could have simply told it to him, but instead chose to make his point by having Highlight surprise himself. “See for yourself, Highlight. Transform!”

Highlight reasoned he would have a different alternate mode than his old hover sled form. As he did when testing his electromagnetic weaponry, Highlight opened another cerebral command protocol in his mind and did as Megatron ordered. His arms straightened and swung up over his head, which retracted into his massive chest module. His body bent forward at his hips while his legs merged and retracted against his torso, and felt a jolt of surprise as hidden anti-gravity pods under his boots automatically charged up and had him hover a short space over the ground. But that surprise was barely a single silicon grain compared to his shock from his first transformation into his new alternate mode.

A giant version of the MP.29 laser vulcan.

He became his own invention.

Unaware of the sheer power that percolated inside his new power cells, he tried one more setting that his previous self once avoided enabling in his old creation.
A scintillating high-intensity blast of gamma-ray radiation surged from his barrel and plowed into the firing range’s far wall, completely disintegrating it.
Highlight wasn’t the only one surprised by this startling performance. “Well, then,” Megatron chuckled, veiling his astonishment. “We needed a new target practice facility anyway.”

Highlight transformed back to his robot mode, and emotionlessly admired his handiwork. “I can appreciate this, Megatron. But my diagnostics say power levels have dropped below 84%.”

“Unfortunate, but anticipated,” said Soundwave. “Schematics of your laser vulcan concept were compatible with your core consciousness. However, this also carried over the laser vulcan’s inherent weaknesses, such as the high-drain nature of electromagnetic emissions on power sources.”

“In that case, I will simply need to learn more about my powers, and how to use them wisely. That will not be a problem.”

“Excellent, Highlight,” said Megatron in satisfaction. “I consider this first experiment a success. In light of this, I now formally extend my offer. Will you join us in the Decepticon cause, and pledge fealty to your leader?”

Having been granted a new lease on life and new powers he never dreamed of having before, Highlight’s effortless decision barely took a fraction of an astrosecond. “Affirmative. I accept your proposition, and swear loyalty to you… Lord Megatron.”

“Then from this moment,” Megatron responded with a nod of approval, “I declare you, Highlight, my new Decepticon Military Operations Commander.”

Highlight ran a few more thoughts in his processor. He had a new body, a new mind, new powers, a new title, a new home, and most importantly, a new life. But something was missing. Everything was new, except for one factor. “I am honored to serve under your command, Megatron,” he replied, “but I have one request, if Soundwave will bear witness.”

“What would that request be?”

“I would like a new name.”

* * * * *

Storage Yard 67 was not a viable target to strike. Not yet.

Shockwave – no longer Highlight – came to that conclusion after analyzing the data Megatron and Soundwave showed him. The Decepticons’ supplies were already too far below acceptable levels, before a substantial portion was invested in reconstructing Shockwave into his new form. If he hadn’t been rebuilt, and the target location was not protected by Guardian robots, an invasion may have succeeded. Attacking now even without the Guardian threat would only have a razor-edge margin of success, at best. As things stood, the warehouse complex and its tremendous stores of energy would have to wait.

But only for now. Instead, Shockwave suggested an elaborate long-term plan. Send Laserbeak to covertly investigate smaller, less-guarded points of attack, prioritizing areas far away from Storage Yard 67 and the Decepticons’ past missions. Though plundering these smaller locations would not yield a great short-term gain, they would gradually accumulate their spoils while encountering less resistance at these objectives. When the target locations are selected, space each attack at irregular, seemingly random periods, not at fixed intervals, in order to confound attempts to track them in a pattern and intercept them. By the time these smaller missions are completed and the Decepticon army reinforced – and given the rate at which Storage Yard 67’s warehouses have been collecting their energy stockpiles – the capacity of riches at “the big one” would be 59.7806% greater than its current state.

Megatron became more impressed with his recruit, watching as Shockwave mapped out the rough overview of the plan, dissected specific details at each separate phase, and devised alternate courses of action in case of the unlikely event of a counterattack. One wouldn’t expect this level of military strategic talent from a mere laboratory technician. But Shockwave’s methodical approach augmented by his new logic enhancements made transferring his skills from science to warfare look effortless. Before long, each phase in Shockwave’s step-by-step strategy regained valuable momentum the Decepticons had lost, reaping greater harvests at a nigh-exponential rate faster than Megatron himself could have envisioned. This execution of Shockwave’s first military operation accelerated the stockpiling of their supplies, gaining so much that they could reschedule their attack on Storage Yard 67 a few deka-cycles early, if they wanted. Based on his figures, Shockwave advised against this action, opting to stay on schedule in order to capitalize on the maximum energy yield possible from their future target.

Still, this triumph in military strategy didn’t mean Shockwave would completely abandon his technical vocations. While Soundwave was already impressively knowledgeable in science and technology, Shockwave’s own expertise from his past career would develop new innovations extrapolating on that knowledge, applying them to their stolen hauls. Very soon, “Project: Seeker” could finally be put into action, and perhaps more new technologies and ideas could spawn from Shockwave’s future contributions, all of which Megatron would greatly appreciate.

As for Shockwave, he grew to appreciate more than just the electromagnetic powers that he could harness in his new form, and the new life granted to him by Megatron and Soundwave’s endeavors. He recalled his past life as Highlight, working with old lab partner Magnificus, up until the time he robbed him of his concept for the laser vulcan… an invention that he eventually became. Looking back, he wondered how his old undisciplined mind could have ever worked at all with someone like Magnificus and his strict adherence to rules, let alone work together on effective projects. But when his multi-step invasion plan garnered better results than expected, it came clear: he and Magnificus enjoyed their accomplishments, if not each other’s company, back at Astro Magnum due to the proper meshing of the best of their fortes.

Imagination for its own sake can breed countless ideas, but without a controlled approach to harness them, many of those ideas can become stillborn. Rules can bring about order and coherence, but also suffocate creativity, or even be manipulated toward an ulterior motive. The most effective approach, Shockwave reasoned, is disciplined imagination properly channeled in the right direction, set in a rational structure. Of course, there is the ever-present element of chance versus the yield of reward… and knowing the right moment to take calculated risks.

The rejection of his proposal. The loss of his intellectual property. The disastrous confrontation at Destron-Laserwave. The arrival of Megatron and his restoration to life. And now, his first military campaign. All these lessons transformed him, not only in his body, but in his entire outlook. And those lessons taught him to favor clear thought over rash action. His new name was merely the last touch in shedding his old life.

As for what lay in his future, Shockwave couldn’t say with total certainty – not without more data on forthcoming events to analyze and hypothesize, before predicting an outcome. He was once too confident in laying out his future plans, never thinking his life would swerve in a totally different direction. But he was right about some things he said in his old life: anything really can happen in this Golden Age, more than anyone would imagine. He also thought about those words exchanged in his confrontation with Magnificus – insight, foresight, action, and personal drive – which he found in the charismatic figure who saved his life. Megatron embodied these traits: a formula for theoretically immeasurable undiscovered prospects that could progress beyond the Golden Age, however long this era would last. The fact that his first contribution to his savior’s cause had amplified that progress so significantly could not be a coincidence.

His systematic mind did not account for fate, destiny, or other such abstract concepts in his analyses. But whether or not Megatron rescuing him from death was dictated by supernatural intervention was immaterial. He concluded that his place now was under Megatron’s command.

After all, Shockwave reasoned… it’s only logical.


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