I was being sent to an energon mine. Shockwave and I had dreaded the day this might happen. Despite the pleads from my carrier to send someone else, Commander Starscream refused to change his processor, declaring that all vehicons had to do their part, even those who were crippled... So here I stand, barely able to see with my new mask covering my optics. I was soon ordered to carry some of the energon to a cart, of course I obeyed, but the load expected of me was far to heavy for my fragile frame, and I felt the shards cut deeply into my armor, sending several small streams of my own energon to the ground, wasted and never to be seen again. Quickly dropping the shards into the cart assigned I kept back sobs from the pain. The other vehicons helped when they could, but often times my load was doubled when they were caught by Commander Starscream, so soon they gave up. I was given one break, due to my incapability to work properly, but this break was only used for mild repairs, enough so that I was no longer leaking energon profusely, then it was back to work until finally, I collapsed.

I heard a low shuffling, and high pitched beep that I could not recognize. The low rumble of a voice soon reached my audio and I tried to open my optics only to find a blinding light in my faceplate. I tried to move from my position, but found my pedes and servos immovable, and in much pain. My mask was still impairing my vision, so I could not see properly. Suddenly the light was moved away, and I found myself looking into the blue, almost green optics of the Autobot medic, Ratchet.

"The drone's awake," he declared, and I tried to move my helm to look around, only to find that it hurt to even think about it.

"Alright! Let's pound some information out of 'im!"

I wanted to rip my mask off, just to see who else it was that surrounded me.

"Wheeljack don't be absurd," the enemy medic declared, "His armor is softer than talc, one blow and he's dead."

Well at least he gets the point across... though he's rather grumpy... He kinda reminds me of Shockwave with how blunt he was.

"How do you expect to gain any information then?" the singular femme of their ranks asked, I remember the files marking her as 'Arcee'.

"Simple," he said, and transformed his servo into a torch, bringing it dangerously close to my arm.

"I thought you said one blow and he's dead?" who I assumed to Wheeljack spoke once more.

"One blow yes, but a small burn may go a long way with how fragile this vehicon is," he paused for a moment, and I felt my cooling fans kick in at the rise in my anxieties, "Now, you're going to let us know what we ask of you."

For my faction... or for my safety?

I can't risk losing Shockwave's trust.

Quickly shaking my helm 'no', I prepared myself for the searing pain that was to come, and held back a cry as the torch was momentarily touched to my delicate armor.

"If you don't want to feel that again, I suggest you talk," I heard a new voice say, and yet again I shook my helm, feeling the pain once more, but for a longer duration of time as it sprung up and down my arm, making the delicate metal melt and boil. Once again I kept in a shriek of pain, but I couldn't help the thrashing of my arm to try and get away from the medic.

|: Are you sure this is okay? :| I heard the natural Cybertronian language, and assumed it to be the scout, |: Somehow I feel that Optimus wouldn't approve... :|

There was a moment of silence, and I made sure that I used this moment to collect myself. Perhaps this mention of their currently missing leader will grant me my freedom.

"Optimus Prime is not with us at this moment," my hopes were shot down at this statement, "So we can only do what we must in order to insure our own win in this war."

|: But... Ultra Magnus, Sir... I feel that this is below us. :|

Please... listen to the scout...

There was another moment of silence, then the shuffling of someone's pede.

"Continue."

The torch was once again forced to my armor, and I squeaked from the pain, but didn't allow anything else to escape my derma. My arm thrashed from the pain, that long lasting pain that seemed to never stop even as I heard the torch being deactivated.

"Will you talk?"

At first I thought of playing possum, but my helm moved on it's own accord this time, shaking as I once again refused to comply. I felt the steady vibrations of pede steps go to my other side, and the searing pain was now fresh as the medic Ratchet torched my other arm. I managed to barely keep in a scream as he turned the Primus forsaken torture device off. My cooling fans were on overdrive, barely keeping up, and I began to feel claustrophobic underneath the mask I was forced to wear.

"Slag, tough as nails aren't they?" I assumed this to be Wheeljack once more.

"Will. You. Talk?" Ultra Magnus.

For what I could only hope to be the last time, I shook my helm 'no', and let out an involuntary scream as the torch once again met my fragile frame, a horrid cry of agony, and in this cry a name, the one name that came to my processor. Shockwave.

The pain suddenly was lessened and the mask torn off my faceplates. I felt I could breathe again as I looked to the horrified expression of the Autobot medic. He took several steps back, as did most of the others, except for whom I assumed to be Ultra Magnus. He looked to me with a mild expression of distaste.

"Why did you stop?" he asked the medic.

"I-I'm sorry sir, but... this is against my own protocol... I regret suggesting such an inhumane act..."

A long silence ensued, and I let my helm go limp, and my optics slowly close. It's so... quiet here.

"Did anyone else know that some vehicons were femmes?" came the random question from the Autobot Wheeljack, and I felt myself chuckle before falling into a pained recharge.