Apology Not Accepted --|Shockwave x Vehicon Reader |--

The Sad News

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A slow count between injections of the altered energon, and this goes on for about 1 minute and 23 seconds. It's a painful process, but necessary with my fragile spark and thin armor. Shockwave puts the last of the liquid in my systems, and I cringe.

         "This will last you until the second shift."

I nod my helm.

     As a vehicon, it is my duty to do my best at any task given, but I'm different. My task is to simply survive. I was created with a weak spark, and my armor is far too thin and soft for battle. I look like any other vehicon, other than not wearing a mask, so my faceplate is plainly seen by everyone. Usually it's thought that we vehicons have red optics, much like the Decepticon Medic Knockout, whom I have never met, but in truth, most of us have a form of dark blue optic coloration. The red visor is mainly an intimidation tactic, which usually works on the humans of this planet. I've been told that my features are quite fair for a vehicon, but I think otherwise, mainly because those who know me and my... complications, sugar-coat everything, simply because they feel bad for my situation.

         "I still think this treatment illogical, it does nothing for your spark."

     Shockwave, always one to be blunt, and the only one who doesn't sugar-coat anything. It's why I've grown to take an, I guess you could say illogical liking to him.

         "The dear Doctor said to my carrier it will prolong my expected life cycle, not that it would strengthen my spark." I said, sliding off the berth.

         "An accurate statement to a point," Shockwave said, almost sounding exasperated with this small ray of hope for me, "I'm assuming he did not give her the data of this serum?"

I shook my helm 'no', and the mad scientist turned to his computers, bringing up a file. I could tell it was the serum file, and part of me didn't want to read it, the small bit of hope I was allowed having the possibility of being stamped out like a small fire. But, curiosity took hold, and I started reading. Being a cripple, though I honestly prefer invalid, I was allowed to do small things, and one of these, was to sort files, delete old ones, make new ones. In short, I had to become a sort of tech genius to survive on the war ship, and the rise of Darkmount helped my cause even more.

     As I read on, I found that the serum did practically nothing to help me, other than a small energy boost to get me through the day. Knockout felt bad enough to lie to my carrier. So I've had to go through this painful process every day, when it does absolutely nothing.

         "I'm sorry to say, that-"

         "Oh don't you start too!" I yelled at him, infuriated, torn and broken, wanting to cry, "I have enough of the others giving me sorrowful looks and saying sorry for something they have no control over! They can't change my future, and neither can your apologetic words!"

I panted from my rant, a digit pointed at the mech who had volunteered to do the entire procedure, why, I do not know, but that is besides the point.

         "You are flustered."

         "How long did it take to compute that?!" I crossed my arms, scratching my armor and making myself wince. It's difficult, having armor almost as soft as talc.

     Shockwave took my servo, and examined the damage I had done to myself, noting the deep gash on my right arm.

         "You are far too careless."