This just popped up in my head one day and I decided this would be a good place to put it. Enjoy!

>><<

Dana knew something was fundamentally wrong the moment she woke up.

Over the course of the several weeks she had been held as some kind of pseudo-hostage aboard the Nemesis, and the last thing she could recall as of right now was Megatron's words.

"You will be fixed - but not just fixed; we will give you the power you were meant to have. You will become the spark you were meant to be."

After that, the events of what happened grew fuzzy. She remembered resisting, tell him he was insane, and then the world warped and became non-existent. If the nurse had to guess, she had been sedated at one point, most likely by Soundwave.

"Her processor is showing signs of wakefulness, my liege," Shockwave's voice percolated through her mind, prompting her to open her eyes.

Sucking in an involuntary breath the disoriented woman looked around, shifting her body in an attempt to figure out what was wrong, freezing when her peripheral vision picked up on Shockwave. Turning to him, she noticed with complete and utter shock that he was no longer towering above her.

No, no, no. This is wrong.

Her mind could not wrap around it for a moment, attempting to figure out what kind of optical illusion was playing tricks on her consciousness. However, her eyes insisted what they were showing her was true, and then another feature called her attention to it.

A silver metal body laid on the table with her, and it moved every time she did.

Her eyes widened, her sitting up in alarm creating a brief dizzying spell, a burst of static escaping her vocalizer when the body continued to move with her. Bringing a servo to her face she moved it, jaw dropping as it started to click.

I'm - I'm -

"The processor-to-body interface seems to be working as expected," Shockwave droned, confirming her fear. "Are you capable of speech?"

Dana choked on her words, feeling like a foolish infant as she struggled to form the sounds. Eventually, her mind figured it out.

"What have you done to me?!"

"Vocalizer is adjusting well to various pitches and intensities," Shockwave did not answer her question, only made scientific observations. "Protoform is moving well, and armor does not appear to be causing discomfort."

The woman looked at the scientist first, then her optics trailed to Megatron, who was standing on the other side of the slab with his servos behind his back. His mouth plates were quirked up with the barest of smiles, optics shining as he watched her struggle to come to terms with what she was. He found sadistic enjoyment in her trouble.

"Megatron," she snarled, though it came out more like a whine as the fresh vocalizer adjusted to her voice. "What is this?!"

"This is your new body," the warlord gestured to her, claws clicking against one another. "We merely transferred your consciousness using Knock Out's neuron refractor into a different mind. Naturally, this processor was grown, thus it is all yours."

Her optics slid to her servo again, watching the delicate digits move. "Why . . .?" She murmured.

"This process was much more simple than attempting to mend your organic body," Shockwave explained, his digits gliding across a computer screen for a moment to input notes. "Lord Megatron also requested the procedure."

There was a long moment of stunned silence, the femme feeling her frame begin to heat up as she became angry. Yes, she occasionally thought about what it would be like to be Cybertronian, but she never would have wanted it to be like this.

"How dare yo- " her vocalizer shorted out when a warning popped up in her head, grimacing in pain. There was a soft ache along her body, like a massive, singular cramp. A soft groan escaped her, and not a moment later something was pressed against her lips.

"Drink," Shockwave insisted.

A part of her knew exactly what it was before the substance hit her tongue, the newly brought to life femme drinking the energon eagerly, the aches almost immediately going away as soon as the fluid entered her systems. It was amazing how immediate the pain relief was.

"She will need to be closely monitored for the next several Earth weeks," Shockwave instructed. "Her systems are like that of a sparkling's, and will need to learn how to most efficiently use fuel. Her temperature regulation will also be off; I expect recharge hypothermic and hyperthermic fluctuations will occur."

Megatron listened, frowning just a little. "I was lead to believe this body was full-grown," he reminded the scientist, who had indeed promised she would be put into a fully matured Cybertronian shell.

"That is the case, however it has not gone through the standard learning processes typical of our kind," Shockwave explained.

Dana chose to ignore them, bitter about her predicament, yet there was something exhilarating about it. Her legs, once rendered useless, were now in perfect working order. Every command was obeyed, even the minor twitch of her pede, which was as close to wiggling her toes as she was going to get.

"I recommend Knock Out gives her a weekly maintenance check," Shockwave continued. "To ensure her body is responding properly to stimuli and building efficiency. I have already summoned him to confirm everything is in working order before I allow her to leave the laboratory."

As if hearing his name, the good Decepticon doctor sauntered into the room, a small kit in his servos with various tools for measuring different aspects of the Cybertronian anatomy and physiology.

"I heard I have a new patient?" The doctor smirked at the young woman, slipping closer to her. It was then Dana realised she was about the same size as the medic, if not exactly the same. Though he was certainly a little wider, as was typical of a mech build, though it was not by much.

Her back strut straightened when he whistled. "Her protoform is looking quite flashy. And the armor very much compliments her physique. You did a good job building this one, Shockwave."

Before either Megatron or Shockwave could think of an answer Dana swung her legs over the side of the table, her servo grabbing the front of the CMO's chestplates and yanking him closer, glowering.

"Patronize me like that again," she hissed, "and I'll use this armored protoform to punch you into next week!"

Knock Out yelped, offering her angry faceplates a small, terrified smile. "O-of course. I meant no insult, really!" He was really wanting her to watch the paint, cringing when her unpracticed digits left a few minor scratches on his finish.

Megatron could not help but grin at the display. Even in this completely new, foreign body, she did not lose her spirit. He was pleased to see her personality was not strictly due to her human husk.

The Decepticon medic looked at his scratched finish with disdain, yet to please his master he began his evaluation. Naturally, her efficiency levels were incredibly low, and energon levels high, but he estimated - judging by her current state - it would only take about twenty-one solar cycles for her systems to begin conserving energon at the standard rate. Her fresh protoform was healthy, as was the armor around it, and her neural systems were all online - including the pain receptors. Her optics functioned normally, and though her vocalizer occasionally glitches out the medic determined that was normal. It was simply learning how to adjust to quick, various changes in pitch.

When his evaluation was done Dana was given another cube of energon, which she drank to about the halfway point before her tanks indicated they were maxed out. That too was typical, as usually a Cybertronian had about a half cube in reserves. She would just need to learn how to process the energon into such reserves.

Once Shockwave cleared her, the femme was left only to briefly wonder what would happen to her.

"Come," Megatron beckoned for her to follow, like some kind of dog.

She grit her denta, sliding off of the berth gingerly, testing her legs. They seemed to work well, up until the moment she attempted to take steps.

Somehow she managed to get her pedes twisted up under her, the femme briefly crying out in surprise before her face rushed to meet the ground. That fate was prevented, however, when two servos gracefully plucked her from the ground.

"I can do it myself!" She hissed like an angry cat, her armor flared up in aggression.

"Clearly," Megatron replied with more sarcasm than she thought him to be capable of, the warlord holding her effortlessly with both servos. She squirmed after hearing Knock Out snicker, but the silver titan refused to release her. Stepping out of the laboratory, he carried the femme through the halls of the warship, ignoring the stares from the drones.

If Dana thought the idea - and feeling - of being in the palm of his servo was exciting, the sensation of being held by Megatron was exhilarating. Her body tingled where their armor came into contact, and her spark spun incessantly within its chamber. Despite her vulnerable position, it was empowering.

She considered the implications, however. Now that she was no longer human, Megatron could punch her around if he wanted. He did not have to fear breaking her like he did before, after he had already hurt her once.

Her tanks rolled a little. She was as big as the baddies, so now she had to deal with them like all the other Autobots.

It was ironic, really; she was safer in her human form than she was now.

"Where are we going?" She asked suspiciously as Megatron stopped in front of a door. He set her down, confident the femme was not going anywhere any time soon, typing in the code.

"Back where you once resided - my private quarters," he answered. When the door opened his red optics gazed at her expectantly.

"What?" She snapped, leaning against the wall for support while her legs got used to the idea of movement.

Her Decepticon captor raised an optic ridge, believing his intentions to be obvious.

"Walk," he commanded.

"Why, so you can sweep me off my feet again like some twisted Romeo?" She shot back, gripping the wall a little tighter. "And why do I have to be in your private quarters? Why can't I have my own?"

Megatron looked at her, only a little amused. "If you believe me to be foolish enough to allow you to go unmonitored, you are mistaken," he folded his servos behind his back, allowing her just this one shred of patience. "It is for your own safety, both from yourself and others. It would be wise if you did not test my patience further, Dana."

Her optics narrowed. "Go ahead," she hissed. "Hit me. That's why you wanted this, right? So you could take your anger out on me without worrying about killing me?"

"Hardly," now he was getting angry, a large servo lashing out and grabbing the femme by an arm, effortlessly hoisting her writhing body in the air. Ignoring her shout of protest he carries her into the room, the door shutting behind them.

"Let go of me!" She snarled. He tossed her to the floor, watching her clumsily try to stay on her pedes but collapsing into a heap. Her bright blue optics dilated, her faceplates contorted into an angry expression.

Megatron thought it was rather adorable. She was so fierce. Perhaps one day she would channel that energy into fighting; he could see her rising in the ranks to rival even Soundwave in terms of combat. It would take practice, but he was sure he could train her. Optimus Prime was a fool to try and keep her subdued as a human, hidden within the Autobot base; she had incredible potential.

"I would refrain from exerting yourself," he rumbled, leaving her on the floor. "Your body will burn through energon quickly, and I would prefer to waste as little as possible."

The former human bared her denta in aggression. "A waste you wouldn't have had to worry about if you had kept me human. Why did you do this? Why didn't you tell me? I don't want this."

Ah, so it seems they were still going to go back and forth, snapping at one another until she either decided they were done, or her overheating burned through enough of her energon to force a shutdown.

He waved a servo in some sort of grandeur gesture, indicating to nothing in general. "Your spark was being utterly wasted on a human shell. I liberated it and gave you life in the body you were meant to possess." He focused on her. "You may have been an Autobot in an organic lifeform, but you are a Decepticon as a Cybertronian. Do not deny that you know this."

Her servos curled into fists, and in a surprising display of control and grit she rose to her pedes, her legs still shaking somewhat, but they were adjusting accordingly. "I was fine as a human. You were just guilty that I was broken so easily. So you made me stronger, bigger, so you don't need to restrain yourself next time you decide to lose your temper around me."

"I 'decided' to lose my temper?" He snapped, stepping towards her and using his height to exert dominance. She did not back down, finding new confidence in this body. Now, however, it barely bothered him; if he so chose, he could throw her across the room, and then do it again if he so desired. "You provoked me with your spitfire words. You should have understood the consequences in getting involved in this war, and you properly paid the price. You may not have wanted this, but you now have it. I suggest you count your blessings, and understand your place."

"At your feet like a pet?" She mocked. "You Decepticons make fun of the Autobots for keeping their pets around all the time, and yet given the opportunity you snatch one like we're some sort of special edition - "

Her vocalizer burst with her yelp, the femme having stood only to go crashing to the ground again, this time under the pede of Megatron. He pushed his weight against her, her armor whining under the strain. Her protoform sent pressure warnings, telling her that if the sensation became too much, she would burst, or become squished. Her fans kicked on to counteract the heating of her body caused by the panic in her systems, and the loss of air circulating from her intake.

"Yes," the warlord hissed, leaning down to get closer to her. "Until I deem you worthy of any sort of ranking, yes. Your courage as a human was amusing, but make no mistake: I will not hesitate to punish you like I do my men if you continue to push me. I am not in the mood to tolerate your insubordination."

The femme wisely remained quiet, though if it was by personal choice or the fact she could not find the ventilation to speak, he did not know.

And it was a partial lie. She was too special to be lowered to the status of "pet" or "drone," but he was the lord of deception, and she would be deceived. If she could be motivated to prove her worth and potential, then he could easily steer her in the direction he wanted. He also found some satisfaction in putting her - literally - beneath him, a dominating move he could not done with her fragile organic form.

After a few moments of silence he rewarded her by taking his pede off of her chest, allowing her main intake and outtake systems to work properly once more. Her optics followed him as he let her be, returning to his personal computer to work from there while he monitored her condition.

He was not entirely sure when the femme eventually shut down and began the recharge process, but the loud whine of her fans drew him away from his work. Her body was curled up on the floor and optics offlined, her ventilation odd and uneven. Moving and touching her plating, he found she was actually abnormally cold.

When sparklings or newly-built Cybertronians first began their recharge cycles, their bodies did not know how to properly regulate at a low-functioning level. As such, most of the time, their core temperatures would dip dangerously low; and in response, then skyrocket to dangerously high levels. Youngling mortality rates were mostly due to this irregularity. The only solution doctors could agree upon was a stable environment that provided adequate temperatures, to counteract the dropping of their core temperatures. The Nemesis was typically kept a little chilly, which combatted humidity and slowed metabolic processes to maximize efficiency.

For sparklings or new bodies, "chilly" was detrimental, and escalataed the counteractive heating measure.

He stopped an annoyed ventilation from escaping his vocalizer. The warlord would have preferred she had indicated she was falling into recharge before this issue could occur. Too late now, he supposed.

Careful to not jostle her too much, he picked her up and considered his options. Considering how humans operated, he doubted she would appreciate sharing a berth. Decision made, he returned to his monitors, holding the femme in one large arm while he typed and worked with the other. His warm frame allowed her core temperature to naturally remain in the correct temperature range, and soon her ventilation almost ceased entirely, reduced to small, occasional puffs of air.

Occasionally she would move, and he would readjust for her, shifting his arm to keep her curled against his broad frame. At one point she had the nerve to switch sides, and as such he switched arms. It made him uncomfortable to have his main fighting arm preoccupied with something, but he had never encountered trouble in his private quarters. The mech forced himself to relax.

It was almost half a solar cycle before the femme emerged from her static state, her energon reserves pinging "low" as soon as her optics flared to life. Blinking a few times she shifted, her digits coming into contact with warm metal and gripping it, jerking to a more aware state when it rumbled.

"I see you have finally awoken from recharge. I was worried you had offlined in your sleep."

Surprised static escaped her vocalizer when she realized Megatron was cradling her, the titan's arms somehow not tired after such a long time. On instinct she tried to shove away, the titan resisting only for a brief moment before he turned and let her tumble onto the floor.

"Couldn't have just put me on the bed?" She demanded.

"You require an external heat source until your systems manage to properly cycle thorough. And I doubt you would have enjoyed sharing a berth with me," he noted, unable to help the smirk at the corners of his mouthplates as she struggled back up to her pedes.

"Don't you wish," she growled. "Wanna take a peak at my flashy protoform?"

"If I had any desire to do so, I would have expressed it," Megatron assessed her face with his optics for a moment, able to see the way they pulsed. "You are running low on energon again, yes?"

The shift in conversation calmed her just a little bit, steering away from the fact she had asked if Megatron, bloodthirsty leader of the Decepticons, wanted to see her naked. "I am being informed that I am low," she huffed in response.

He gave her a brief nod. "Soundwave will be arriving shortly, then." He turned his attention back to his monitors, maintaining observations of the various happenings on the Nemesis. Everything was running smoothly, as always. Excellent.

His femme companion leaned against the computers, optics seeming to understand, yet not quite process, what they were seeing. She barely acknowledged Soundwave when he arrived with her cube of energon, drinking the whole thing until it was gone before settling back down.

"There is something I must attend to, now that you are refueled and awake," Megatron said out of the blue, red optics gazing at her. "It would be in your best interest to not escape, or tamper with any of my belongings. Should you do any of those things, I will punish you."

Her optics narrowed, denta pulling back in a display of aggression. "As if I have any place to go here."

He gave her a final, amused look before he left her to her own devices, the femme watching his bulk slowly and deliberately leave the room, closing the door and leaving her trapped.

Well, I'm not just going to sit - or stand here - all day, she gripped the edge of the table, purposfully putting one pede in front of the other. It was not painful to walk, but she obviously needed the practice. It was like a part of her had forgotten how to move properly; but that would be quickly remedied. 

The first time she attempted to walk across the room, she fell flat on her face within the first several steps. Getting up was easy, but it was discouraging when she fell back down again, cursing as she took a moment to get her bearings and figure out how her legs had twisted around one another. Dana quickly realized that watching the movements allowed her to take more careful and planned steps; but the moment she looked away she was crashing back down to the ground.

In a surprisingly short amount of time Megatron had returned, but an unexpected companion stood next to the lord of Decepticons.

"Ratchet?" Her mouth parts dropped in surprise, stopping in her slow tracks to gaze at him in shock.

"By the Allspark," Ratchet exhaled in shock.

"As you can see, doctor, I had no reason to lie to you," Megatron rumbled. "The procedure went according to plan - and the results were better than we antcipated."

There was a drawn-out pause, Ratchet beholding his charge with observant optics, unsure of what to do or say to her. Megatron had only told him that his spark shard was going to be used to help Dana regain her ability to walk. He was a fool to believe that Shockwave would not try to test the limits of science when he did so. And perhaps he should have anticipated Megatron would allow for such a thing to happen; but the medic was admittedly surprised the warlord put so much effort into what could be easily described as an insignificant, fragile being.

But to him, Dana was far from insignifcant.

They took steps toward one another at the same time, the femme faltering slightly as her unpracticed pedes attempted to trip her once more, but before she could go into a full-on trip practiced, gentle servos pulled her to a warm frame, Ratchet hugging her tightly. Their helms were about the same height, making it easy for her to also wrap her arms around him, albeit was slightly more difficult to to his frame being slightly wider than hers.

"Ten Earth minutes, doctor," Megatron told them, his voice holding a hint of warning. They were not to try and escape.

Dana watched him leave with confusion, looking to her long-time friend. "What is he talking about?" She asked.

Ratchet sighed, letting her go. "As a reward for helping the Decepticons, I was given the option of ten Earth minutes unsupervised with you, or thirty supervised. I chose the former, as you heard. I was hoping you were . . . human. Then we could have escaped. But now . . ."

"We can still go," his charge insisted. "I just need to know how to access my weapons. Maybe get an alternate form too . . ."

The Autobot medic shook his head. "No, the risk is far too great," his optics roamed the room, noting the data pads and computer system. "I would attempt to contact the Autobots, but no doubt Megatron is having Soundwave closely monitor his personal computer and its records. If we were able to escape I could use the diversion to contact them, but I will not put you at risk."

"Why not?" She insisted. "Ratchet, I can create the perfect distraction. The last thing Megatron wants is for me to slip through his talons again; and he most certainly won't hurt me."

"Yes, he will," her guardian rebuttled. "Dana, you don't understand what you are capable of - and what he now is because of that."

"I am aware," she assured. "I'm not afraid, Ratch. If he's going to hurt me, so be it. But he won't kill me - no matter how torn up I am in the aftermath Shockwave will put me back together. Like it or not, I hold more value to him than I think even he realizes. Let me help you. I'm not a fragile human anymore."

He shook his helm, but she could tell her words were getting to him.

"Let's do this together," she said. "You and me, against the entire Decepticon warship."

That got a small, cynical laugh from the medic. "Dana, are you absolutely certain of this?" He questioned.

"Absolutely," the young femme extended her arms out. "Tell me how to use my transformation cognition. I have a weapons system, I just need to know what to do with it."

If Ratchet was aware of the risks due to her inefficience energon processing and the fact Megatron was going to destroy the both of them if he got wind of this plan, the Autobot kept them all to himself. Any chance of rescue was better than waiting for the Decepticons to use the two of them as "motivation" for each other. The idea of allowing any harm to come upon Dana, or to have her see any inflicted on him, was unacceptable.

His charge showed amazing fierceness as she burst past the door, the two of them easily dealing with Vehicon guards before he transformed, the femme climbing onto the back of his alternate mode before they were off. Using her blasters she fired away at any Vehicons that dared to get in Ratchet's path. Turning down several hallways the medic attempted to locate a console he could use to send a distress signal, but their plan was almost immediately coming to a close.

"Ah - !" The medic shouted in alarm as he rounded the corner, Megatron's angry form rapidly apaproaching.

"Go!" Dana's scream was his only prompt, his charge launching herself at the silver titan, their bodies making contact with one another and then the ground.

Supressing the worry in his spark, Ratchet did not look in the rearview mirror as he rounded the corner and continued on his way.

Dana did not even get half a hit in before a servo grabbed her and tossed her across the hall, her body landing and skidding with painful metal-on-metal noises that grated her audio receptors.

"I should have better anticipated this," Megatron snarled, approaching her with taut shoulders. "Whether it was the Autobot that coerced you into this plan, or vice versa, I was a fool to believe either of you would follow my instructions."

"Your words aren't threatening to me," she spat back, standing on her strong legs. They were far from good at walking, but she could still fight. At a disadvantage, yes; but if it was enough to buy Ratchet time, so be it. "I know you, Megatron. And you won't beat me within an inch of my life because it is too precious to you. Why kill me off when you have put in so much effort so far?"

"Make no mistake!" He lashed out for her, but the femme was quick. She ignored his look of surprise as her fist made contact with the weak armor around his abdomen, feeling it give a little as she punched him. To both of their surprises she had enough strength to send him reeling, though it took a shocking amount of energon to use that much energy. Ignoring the warning that she should probably not do that again, Dana slid into a fighting stance, not ready to back down.

"So this is how it is going to be," Megatron growled, servo briefly going to his side as he righted himself, though it dropped once he stood tall. He would not show signs of weakness. "I give you the ability to walk again, I give you the power of titans, and you use it against me!"

"You kidnapped my friends," she growled, "Autobot and human alike. You almost killed me, then kidnapped me for a second time, and turned me into one of you without my consent. I owe you nothing, Megatron!"

The warlord approached her again, wisely on his guard. "I saved your livelihood. I gave you what even your modern science could not. But I suppose it was too much to assume you would be grateful."

With that he lashed out again, dodging her next blow with shocking agility for a mech of his size. The femme shrieked in alarm as her body crashed against the wall, a servo around her throat. It was around her neck tight enough to restrict her energon flow, causing panic to well up in her systems. Her servos automatically wrapped around his wrist, kicking out in an attempt to make him let go.

"Your antics amuse me, and your fire intrigues me," he hissed, leaning in close, their faceplates inches from touching. "But do not think, for one klik, that I would hesitate to show you your place once again."

Her blue optics flashed, brightening and winding up so that her pupil was but a pinprick. Servos slackening, she glared at him, finding courage admist the bubble of panic. In a move that would have put any Cybertronian in the ground - six feet underneath it, that is - she extended her arms and wrapped her servos just beneath the helm that nearly brushed her chin, her digits feeling the sensitive energon cables.

Megatron stared at her for the entirety of the three seconds it took for her to complete the gesture, in complete disbelief. No one, in his millions of years of existence, had the audacity to do what she just did. 

Her servos tightened around his neck, threatening to squeeze in turn.

"Go ahead," she hissed at him. "Do your worst. I am not afraid of you."

They stood like that, in a stalemate, for what seemed like forever. The tension that was building between them seemed to have an electric charge, bouncing back and forth in a frenzy, daring one to break its path. His grip had slackened to allow energon to continue to flow to her processor, as she had yet to apply any true pressure to his own. Finally, he moved, though they never broke optic contact, drawing her closer to him and wrapping his free arm around her to maintain support, so neither one applied pressure to the other's energon cables.

"Now, Soundwave," he uttered.

Her optics widened in confusion, crying out when a tentacle slithered between them and latched onto her, ripping her grip from Megatron and throwing her to the ground.

She snarled and writhed, the communications officer tossing her against one wall, then the other, before slamming her body onto the ground once more. Dana groaned loudly in pain, dizzy from the vertigo effects Soundwave's punishment had given her. The silent mech merely glanced at his master, not at all questioning what had occured when he had finally arrived to the scene.

"Put her and the medic in a cell," the lord of Decepticons ordered. "I am sure the Autobots will be here soon to attempt a rescue; we will deal with them, and then I will personally mete out her punishment."

"Leave Ratchet alone," her vocalizer glitched, the young woman struggling to get up properly. Her protoform ached from the hits, and she was once again receiving warning signals that she was low on energon. Soundwave merely shoved her down again on the ground with his pede, forcing her to lay still as he awaited Megatron's okay. Though the look he received was a touch perturbed, the warlord did not protest his rough handlign of the femme.

"To her cell, Soundwave," he instructed. Ignoring her spiteful words and the creak of her armor as she still attempted to resist, Megatron turned away while Dana was dragged away by his third in command. He had Autobots to deal with.

Aaaand that's it for now. We can assume everything else pretty much happens the same way, just her parents flipping out when they learn their daughter is now a giant robot. xD 

Thanks!