LOG-005.

  I continued to scratch along the side of Predaking's long neck, the dragon making his pleasure known with a shiver of his jaws.

  "It seems that last dip in the tank did the job. I doubt you'll get any larger than you are now. Still, you're definitely a bit different than I expected."

  He was a fair bit slimmer than I remembered him being in the show, adopting a more sleek look, but in the grand scheme of things that really didn't matter too much. I'd probably just enacted something differently compared to what my canon counterpart had done. Perhaps I'd used the wrong CNA sample.

  Besides that singular point, he was large. I could probably get away with riding on his back at this point, and I was certainly no small mech.

  Giving the predacon another pat, I turned and made my way down the rubble strewn 'ramp' leading to the street below us.

  "Swing faster! Your enemy will not wait for you!"

  The collapsed building my creation had claimed for himself was all but useless to our group, yet the draconic cybertronian seemed to enjoy perching atop it's bombed out roof in order to observe the training sessions below.

  "Strike! Watch my movements, watch how I use your own momentum against you!"

  I got down to ground level just in time to see Shrapnel throw Z-2 over his shoulder. The newly produced Zaku getting back up near instantly and brandishing his heat-axe once again. To the insecticon's obvious approval.

  Z-1 and Z-3 continued to watch from the sidelines, and I noticed Zero standing a bit further away, keeping his optic to the sky.

  It was a lot easier to train in the open after all, but one had to be careful about keeping their wits about them.

  I took a moment to admire my creation as he burst towards Shrapnel with a grunt, swinging his heat-axe down at a diagonal arc. The insectoid mech dodged of course, but there was less delay this time. My Zakus were improving.

  When I'd mentioned constructing some melee weapons for my new soldiers, I hadn't been entirely serious. Built in servo-blades were common for a reason. They were just more reliable, but the heat-axes had actually been surprisingly easy to manufacture.

  I'd setup a makeshift forge, using the scrapped armor of a couple dead Autobots until I'd figured out a decent formula that could handle having an energon powered heat-coil installed.

  After that, it was simplicity itself to run a current from the hilt of the axe, connected to the user via a small semi-intrusive energon line, and have it power the edge of the blade.

  Not the greatest of weapons, but I liked to think they were pretty neat. Theoretically, they could even ignite an opponent's internal energon supply if the blade were to dig deep enough through the armor.

  Shaking my helm, I waved at Zero before striding past the ruined facade of the building hiding the entrance to my lab.

  "I'll need to update his armor...the production models have already begun to outpace him. Maybe some time in the enrichment mixture would help-"

  [Warning: Return signal detected.]

  I paused, tilting my helm.

  Well then, that was interesting. Could we isolate that?

  [Scanning: Decepticon IFF detected.]

  Who? Was Knockout here already? I hadn't detected any large energy outputs...

  [Signatures identified: Lord Megatron/Commander Dreadwing.]

  "What?" Rushing over towards a console, I let the digits of my lone servo fly across the holographic screen.

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  "Megatron and Dreadwing. Megatron and Dreadwing...when did they get to cybertron? Where are we in the timeline..."

  Despite my mumbling, I did make progress, sending a new command prompt to the satellite in orbit.

  Namely, to amplify my own range.

  With a click of a button, I started an open broadcast.

  "This is Decepticon Shockwave to allied units, please respond promptly."

  Silence. I pulled up the power settings, diverting some energon from the less important equipment to my console.

  "I repeat, this is Decepticon Shockwave, I am currently marooned in the ruined city of Tarn, please respond."

  And then...

  "-e re-d you Sh--kwa-e. What are -our c--rd-nates?"

  That... kind of sounded like Dreadwing. Let's see, if I could just raise the output a little bit more, that might help with the interference...

  "Repeat last, communications are currently operating below optimal conditions."

  A moment, then the voice came back, much clearer this time.

  "This is Dreadwing, your signature has been confirmed Shockwave. Transmit your coordinates immediately."

  I did so, even as I sent a short range comm message to the sparring mechs above me to get their scrap in order.

  "Understood, coordinates dispatched. I await your arrival."

  A burst of static.

  "Very well. We are en-route."

  ---

  We'd all assembled outside the lab when two separate forms flew down from the outer atmosphere.

  One was clearly a jet, (which gave me a strong sense of deja vu, what with my human memories) while the other had the distinct contours of a cybertronian spacecraft.

  A few seconds before they reached comm range, I noticed Predaking's optics brighten for a moment upon sighting the pair. The prehistoric predator was likely tracking their trajectories. Even though I had ordered the protective lizard to stand down.

  "Behave. All of you."

  I straightened slightly as Megatron transformed midair, slamming down onto the street with a crash, yet despite that, he didn't stumble. Instead, the gladiator turned revolutionary turned warlord spread his arms wide, optics gleaming and faceplate set in a decidedly pleased expression.

  Shrapnel took a knee, the dramatic bug that he was. He was also promptly ignored. Poor beatle.

  "Shockwave! An exceptional sight to my sore optics!" I inclined my helm as he strode forward, grinning. I also noticed him glance at the four green mechs standing at attention behind me. His optics widened upon noticing Predaking, who stared back with all the predatory energy of a cat watching a particularly shiny canary.

  "I was told you had gone offline." He scowled, clearly displeased about said information. "To think you were here! All this time..."

  Taking a second to note Dreadwing's far less bombastic landing, I gave the silver mech a nod.

  "Lord Megatron. Reports of my death were...greatly exaggerated."

  Clapping his servos together, Megatron nodded.

  "Indeed. Dreadwing, traverse the spacebridge and contact the Nemesis. It seems our trip shall prove far more fruitful than I first anticipated..."

  ---

  Megatron had sat down on a pile of rubble, somehow managing to make it look dignified, as I recounted my version of events.

  "After returning to my laboratory, I exploited the unexpected opportunity of my complete isolation, and began work on several projects. As you can see, some of them have already proven beneficial."

  The warlord gestured with a clawed hand, waving one of my creations forward.

  "Yes, only you could turn such a dire situation into an advantage. These...Zakus. They appear formidable, though is their purpose not already fulfilled by the vehicons?"

  Nodding, I turned to glance at Predaking.

  "They were a...pet project of sorts. A way to pass the time. And to acquire additional servos to assist me in my work. The predacon took priority."

  Megatron's optics flashed as he stood up, approaching a silently staring Predaking. One wouldn't be able to tell without experience, but the draconic being was subtly scanning for weaknesses. He did it with everything, with myself seeming to be the only exception.

  "Yes...a magnificent warbeast! Such primal power...and it is fully under your control?"

  Standing up, I walked over to his side.

  "Correct. It recognizes me as it's creator." He. But I didn't want to show too much attachment to my friend. That was a big no no in any Decepticon contingent. Displaying any weakness in general was a bad idea.

  Turning to glance at Megatron, I tilted my helm.

  "Although I am glad for your arrival, I did not anticipate rescue so soon. For what reason did you return to Cybertron?"

  His pleased smile quickly morphed into a particularly ugly grimace, his servos clenching into fists.

  "Dark times are upon us. We have been competing with the Autobots, retrieving relics sent to Earth. From Iacon."

  I nodded. "Judging by your demeanor, the Autobots have acquired something they shouldn't have."

  Megatron inclined his helm, snarling quietly.

  "That wretched Prime successfully retrieved the Star Saber. It has proven...difficult to overcome."

  Then he grinned, clapping a servo on my shoulder.

  "But that is soon to change! For you see, we possess the forge of Solus Prime, and I have devised a method to harness it's power! One that I believe you could assist in greatly..."

  I made the appropriate noises. Letting him explain his glorious plan.

  So that's where we were in the timeline. Huh. Kind of...early, actually. Earlier than I had expected at least. Which...was good. Meant I had more time to do...whatever I'd end up doing.

  "Although I had initially planned for Knockout to enact the procedure, I believe you would be far more suitable. You have always enjoyed tampering with the limits of modern science."

  I crossed my arms.

  Bitch please, attaching a dead servo to a living cybertronian is a piece of cake.

  "Indeed, then it seems we have much to do, Lord Megatron."

  Megatron's eye ridge raised ever so slightly as Predaking started nuzzling into my side.

  "Your creation...it appears particularly affectionate."

  I pat the friendly dragon on the helm, staring directly into my boss' optics.

  "Pack instincts. Predacons are especially loyal to those they consider their own."

  The mech nodded, crossing his arms.

  "Interesting. Let us hope it is less friendly with our enemies..."