Chapter Text
Shockwave was desperate.
After his empurata operation Shockwave had moved to an empty apartment building on the streets of Kaon. Quiet, deserted, empty. He had made a living building small gadgets for the Cybertronians who lived there out of the scrap metal he found scavenging the building. Or, for those truly desperate, he would take their shanix to repair bots. He struggled to adapt to use his one good claw in these repairs, his other arm being replaced with a cannon that made his stance uneven. Though some had hesitance in his abilities, they often left better than they had arrived. (There were a few poor cases who were just too far gone for Shockwave to do anything about. He would take their shanix anyway and strip them for spare parts.)
However, it appeared the violence of the Cybertronian senate had reached its grip even to the grimy streets of Kaon. As police enforcers monitored the streets any contacts Shockwave once had fled or vanished. Any commissions that had once trickled in ebbed away. His decent stash of energon and shanix coins trickled away until nothing remained. Soon, even the natural reserve in his engine would run out and there would be nothing left to power his engine.
Shockwave pinched his claw open and shut as he pondered on what to do. No reputable business, or even non-reputable businesses, would hire an empurata bot such as himself. That was the point of the procedure. To be so marked by the senate as having committed some egregious sin, unforgivable by society. Shockwave only had the vaguest memory of what that was, based on the files he had been able to dig up on his previous identity, and the few vestiges of memory that remained in his processor. Not that it would help him now.
Shockwave stopped pinching his claw. He checked the levels in his tanks. They were low, only about 10% remaining. He bristled. He had a solution. Something he had hoped to never resort to. There was a pleasure club not far from his apartment. He had interfaced in exchange for energon before, early in his “life” as an empurata bot, when he was just getting back on his pedes. He knew others had a certain….taboo fascination with his kind. His only, last hope was to make a deal with the pleasure club owner. Energon and, perhaps, room and board for his services. Shockwave looked around the dilapted apartment he had called home and left.
……………….
Shockwave reached the pleasure club with around seven percent left in his tanks. With no reservations, he headed straight for the door with no deviations.
“Whoooa, buddy.”
Right as Shockwave had reached a claw to the door pane, a servo had reached up to stop him. Shockwave's optic light blinked. A bulky bouncer stood in his path.
“I can't just let you in there.”
The bouncer eyed him suspiciously. Shockwave looked at him, voice box struggling to produce sound with his energon so low.
“I need to speak to the owner,” he said plainly, trying to push past the bouncer.
“Yeah and I want to speak to the Prime. But we don't all get what we want.” All the bouncer had to do was reach his arm across the door to prevent Shockwaves' action. He was too weak to push past it, even if he wanted to make a scene.
Shockwave bore his optic into the bouncer with a glare. “I wish to offer my services.”
Something about the bouncer's optics softened at that. “We don't need any more pleasure bots…”
“I can provide a unique experience,” Shockwave interjected.
“We already have an empurata bot. We don't need any more charity cases”
Shockwave's optic stuttered for a moment. He stepped back as if he had been stricken “Ah. I see.” He said flatly.
Suddenly the bouncer looked remorseful.
“But look, I can at least give you this, ok?” He took an energon cube out of his subspace and handed it to Shockwave, who cradled it against him with a shaking claw and the barrel of his gun arm. “Regain some strength, someone in Kaon will take you in, yeah?” The bouncer said a little desperately, looking up at him, like Shockwave could absolve him. Shockwave turned from him and started walking away.
……………….
Shockwave did not have the processor power to ponder his situation anymore. All he knew is he needed somewhere SAFE to ingest the energon cube. Tank check. Five percent. Some alleyways not too far away from the club. It would have to do. Shockwave crouched down, balancing the cube on his gun arm while trembling fingers fumbled for the latch on his side where his intake port resided.
Sudden noise startled him from his task. Muffled yelling. Further down the alley from where Shockwave was crouching three mechs were unceremoniously tossed out of a side door. One of them cursed in kaonite. Another kicked the now closed door. The three of them started to sway in his direction, stumbling and laughing all over the alleyway. The three were clearly drunk off of high-grade energon. Still shaking, Shockwave looked down and dimmed his optic, conserving his energy. His audial fins lifted waiting for them to pass before attempting access to his port again.
“Ey, what we got here?”
Shockwave looked up. One of the mechs was directly in front of him, his other two friends laughing behind him. Shockwave held his cube protectively. “Mech, it's nothing, leave it alone.”
“Pshhhhh, no way bro, look, look, lisssten.” The Mech who had spoken first grabbed one of his friends from behind and dragged him beside him. The two loomed before Shockwave.
“You wanted to go to the club, right. Get your ssspike wet right?” The Mech slurred. The Mech beside him looked at his friend, slightly dazed. An effect of the high-grade no doubt. “Who needs to pay all those prices, when we have what we want right here?” The Mech looked down at Shockwave with lust in his optics.
Shockwave tried to move, tried to jump up. His instincts told him to run but with his processor so delayed every movement ended up jerky and half aborted. Rough servos slammed him against the wall. “Not going anywhere, are you?” Asked the propositioning Mech upturning in his voice in a false whine. A joke only he found funny.
Shockwave's energon cube had fallen in the skirmish. He watched it spill, the dirt beginning to absorb the blue liquid. “E-en-ener-gon.” Shockwave’s voice laced with static. With a burst of energy, He pushed against the arms and desperately knelt at the cube trying to cup anything he could.
He felt servos on his pedes and soon he was being dragged away. Away from the energon. He forced his claw into the dirt, hoping for any traction, but the claw just dug a line as he was pulled away.
He was slammed into a wall again. His whole frame shuddered and he slid to the ground. “Fragging finally, let's do this.” The victorious Mech said somewhere above him. Shockwave checked his reserve. Two percent. His optic was starting to blur. It was getting harder to see. He could feel servos on his shoulder pads pinning him down. If he could just get his processor to cooperate with him, maybe he could calculate the aiming on his gun arm. He would need to be able to take out all three in one shot. He only had the energy for one shot.
Weight on his legs. Servos on his interface panels. He started powering up his cannon.
Suddenly the weight was off him. He vented deeply. Someone was screaming. Shockwave could barely see. His vision was just a screen of blurry colors and half calculated numbers at this point. Sounds of blows, metal on metal around him. A bright blue and white standing out amidst the other’s dingy paint jobs. “Another party has entered the fray” Shockwave thought bitterly. “Someone who wants my parts and panels to themselves.”
The noise finally stopped. Shockwave did not have the strength to lift his helm. He felt his body being lifted and all he saw was blurry blue. The blue Mech cradled Shockwave in his arm, holding Shockwave’s helm close to his chest. The Mech began to carry him away from the alleyway. “Taking me to another location to dissect me for parts. Smart,” thought Shockwave
The Mech was speaking. Not to him. Speaking to someone. His voice was melodic but modified with a voice filter. Shockwave couldn't make the effort to make out the words. But then, the mech was speaking to him, asking him, something?
“What?” He tried to ask, mostly static.
“Designation?” The Mech asked again, holding him so Shockwave could see he was looking at him. Shockwave couldn't make out his features with his limited processor.
Why would he want to know his name? So they could put a little plaque wherever he dumps the body? It's not like it matters anymore anyway.
“S-s-s-sh-sho-sho-kkk-” the rest devolved into static as Shockwave went into stasis lock.