"See, I abducted you,
So I tell you what to do,
What to do, what to do"

»«

The doors to Ratchet's holding cell opened with a quiet whoosh, the hiss quickly replaced by the slow, heavy steps of the Decepticon warlord. The medic immediately glared, his servos curling into fists.

"If you think I'm going to help you, whatever it may be, you're wrong." He seethed.

Megatron tilted his helm to the side and have the medic a shark's grin.

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure, doctor." He stalked toward the medic, using his size to tower over him and intimidate. "Because I have an offer you cannot refuse."

"Dana." Ratchet narrowed his optics, feel a chill run through his muscle cables. This was the whole reason for her kidnapping. To persuade him to do whatever Megatron wanted. Why did he wait for almost an entire Earth month, though?

"She is a part of it, yes." The warlord admitted. "However, it is not her that I am bargaining with, in a sense." There was a pause, then he continued. "Shockwave is creating a device that will bridge the gap between the broken section of her spinal cable. It is nearly complete, but there is a problem. Because it runs on energon, it needs a power source, a pump if you will. A spark."

Stunned silence filled the room, Ratchet taking his time to try and figure out what exactly Megatron meant, while also wrapping his processor around the fact that Megatron and Shockwave were helping a mere human. He took several intakes before speaking.

"What do you mean, a spark?" He questioned slowly, not committing to everything.

"Exactly what you think. The mechanism requires a spark. However, because the mechanism is so small, it is unable to take a fully developed one." Megatron folded his servos behind his back, staring down at Ratchet. "Thus, it requires but a sliver."

Ratchet suppressed a growl, glaring at him. "And so you came to take mine. Of course you would be too selfish to do it yourself!"

Megatron leaned closer to him, a silent warning. "I would have, medic, had my spark not been tainted with dark energon. The risks are too great. And I do not trust any of my inferiors to be sufficient donors themselves. So the task falls to you, should you agree to donate."

"And if I don't?"

"She doesn't walk." Came the ultimatum. "And I am sure we can find some other use for you, doctor. Perhaps the location of your newest base?"

Resisting the urge to give Megatron the punch he deserved, Ratchet took another large intake. "Fine. I will donate."

"Excellent. Knock Out will be here shortly with the containment unit." Megatron looked pleased, Ratchet silently cursing him.

For Dana. And only for Dana.

»«

Klindeston did he best to control his breathing and not hyperventilate, instead focusing on the floor - or, he supposed, the giant robot table - at his feet, feeling his entire body tremble in fear.

His mind told him that this was all fake, there was no way it could be real. But his eyes were telling a different story as the red robot which kidnapped him earlier typed away on a computer, sending a message in a code he couldn't bet in to understand. There were odd tools laid out on the counter beside the robot, the doctor getting a sick feeling to his stomach. He was about to be victim of an alien abduction.

The doors to the room they were in opened to reveal a slightly taller, cycloptic robot entering the room, footsteps heavy due to its bulkier build and the intimidating . . . Thing on its arm. It honestly looked like a giant cheese grater.

But the cable attached to its back suggested a power source, so he suspected it was a massive canon.

"Knock Out, is this the surgeon?" The other robot rumbled.

The red robot, Knock Out, nodded in confirmation. "Yes indeed. One Dr. Klindeston, just as you ordered."

The surgeon took several copious steps back as the other robot approached him, tripping over his feet and falling back, flinching when he landed on his butt. The robot leaned closer, one bright red eye gazing at him, Klindeston's terrified expression reflecting off the smooth glass.

"Doctor." The robot spoke again, this time addressing the human directly. "We are in need of your neurosurgical specialty. Your patient is an eighteen-year-old female human. Soundwave is retrieving her health records at this very moment, as it may prove useful to you. What is it that you need in order to complete this procedure?"

Klindeston looked at him in shock, trying to move his mouth but no words coming out for some time. "You want me . . . To operate?" He squeaked.

"Affirmative." The robot replied.

The surgeon sat up a little straighter, now more confused than scared. His surgical skills were needed in a place like this?

"You will be installing a device which bridges a spinal cable fracture between Lumbar 4 and Lumbar 5." The robot continued speaking when he saw Klindeston hesitate. "What tools will you need to access the area?"

Klindeston looked around, stammering slightly as he wracked his brain for what he needed. "A-A sterile environment, first off . . . Ah . . ." He flinched when the robot leaned closer, listening intently. "A-A surgical bed . . . Anesthesia . . ." It became immediately apparent that the surgeon would have a hard time completing his given task without a team. He would need an anesthesiologist to administer the anesthesia, nurses to monitor the patient's condition and hand him necessary tools . . .

But needing them would get other people involved, and it slowly dawned on the surgeon that he might not make it out of this encounter alive.

"I can't administer anesthesia." He admitted. "I'm not trained nor qualified-"

"We will provide you with everything you need." The robot assured, though he didn't sound very assuring. "Soundwave will provide you with the information you require to know throughout the procedure. Firstly, however, you need to provide us with a list."

"Okay, okay." Trusting that the robot knew what he was doing, Klindeston began to shakily, but over time more confidently, name off anything and everything he could possibly need, silently wondering what on Earth he truly was doing, and what these robots were.

»«

Ratchet was beginning to lose his patience when Knock Out finally decided to show up with the containment unit, Megatron also seeming on edge. The Decepticon strut his way to the two other Cybertronians, digits clicking against the glass.

"One containment unit filled with energon, ready for storage." The doctor sang.

Ratchet frowned, but then slowly opened up his chest plates, revealing his pulsating spark. A shard, Dana's shard, was already prepared to escape, pressing against the walls of his casing as the Decepticon medic came forward.

"You don't have a smaller one?" He asked in annoyance when Ratchet gently pinched the shard and brought it through the casing.

"I'm afraid not." He spat back. "I'm sorry I don't come with already compatible pieces!"

Megatron just grit his denta, urging the doctors to finish and just quit with the banter.

Knock Out rolled his eyes. "Then we are going to have to make it smaller."

Ratchet paused, still gripping it. He might have a slightly smaller specimen, but this was the part of him that was most fond of his human charge. As silly as it was, he didn't want to pass this symbolic opportunity by, even if it did spare him pain.

"What do I need to do?" He asked.

Knock Out set the container down, changing his servo into a saw as he plucked Ratchet's shard from his digits,  the container open to catch the shard pieces.

"Lord Megatron, I'm going to need you to hold him." Knock Out instructed meekly. "Or else he might scrap me for this."

Without a word Megatron circled behind Ratchet and clutched his upper arm plates, prepared for a fight.

"Here we go." Knock Out look sadistically delighted, activating his saw and bringing it toward the shard.

Ratchet's screams echoed across the Nemesis hallways, and then as abruptly as they started, they stopped.