• The aligned continuity doesn't exactly have backstories set for some characters like the Dinobots (all we know is that Grimlock eventually ends up being a criminal after the destruction of public property) and that he had led an underground city on Cybertron after the war as 'king'. Other characters who do not have backstories, I will invent myself with reference to G1 (since not everything slots in with the alignment anymore)  

Max wasn't too calm about the fact that Overshot was disappearing more and more recently to get all her illegal materials. The planned opening day was within the month and so far, it didn't seem as if they would be ready on time. When he asked her to get serious about it, she stated that the topside was his brainchild, not hers. That just made him more stressed out.

At least he had his dad.

But when Overshot disappeared to Alabama and had to personally get involve with the military, he had been in such a panicked mind-set that he wasn't all that productive. The whole purpose of the repurposing of the mine wasn't for his business, but for her protection. If she were to suddenly perish, then he would not be able to sustain the place. He didn't know how her moneymaking scheme worked and he would surely go bankrupted before the doors even officially opened.

He was growing attached to the place.

The base beneath held no real value to him either. Huge, huge machinery and furniture won't do him any good. Besides, he had cast an eye into her laboratory recently and with all the warning labels on the chemicals, he was sure that weapons of mass destruction were not difficult for her to produce.

He voiced his concerns to Overshot at one time. She had snickered at him.

Returning from Alabama carrying three large containers of the resin, it set him at ease to learn that they were in a stable form. When she pulled out the Predacon talon, he had stared at her rather strangely.

"What's that for?" he questioned, roaming the massive metal base with her as she transported the containers.

"The start of my contingency plan," she answered, typing in her code to the laboratory before the doors slid open. She walked inside, Max following into the room. He cast his eyes around, spotting the huge equipment with unknown purposes. Along with all the machines stood four large empty tanks, the tanks much larger than Overshot herself and was the largest constructions in the base. He remembered just the glass for the tanks had been a huge collection of hers.

"How's a bone going to..? What?" he muttered with confusion. She deposited the containers onto her workbench, which, in comparison, was much larger. She turned towards Max and bent down, servo struck out. He hummed for a moment before climbing onto her servo, allowing himself to be picked up and deposited onto the workbench. He could now see everything with a clear and direct view.

"This bone was left on this planet in your Middle Ages by a Cybertronian species my master and I brought back from extinction," she started to explain, placing the talon in front of Max. It was about five times his body's size. "Some of your mythology is based on our creations. You dubbed them 'dragons'," at this, Max's jaw fell to the floor and he looked up in surprise. "They are called Predacons and they were the first Cybertronians, having emerged from the Well of AllSparks on the first day of the biosphere's genesis. They were extinguished by an event called the 'Great Cataclysm' when a passing red star interfered with Cybertron's sun. The gravitational effects had ejected a number of asteroids onto the surface. It is similar to how your ancient reptiles became extinct as well," she explained, opening the containers and moving the smaller containers with the resin inside onto her shelves.

"But if your Predacons became extinct on Cybertron, how are their fossils on Earth?"

"As I had said, my master and I had recreated them. With a single strand of CNA, we are able to clone the beings back into existence. We did so during the war and they were the ones tasked to protect all off-world resources. Alas, the war continued for longer than anticipated and the Predacons perished because of their own primitiveness," she nodded.

"So they had to protect things like the energon depositories?"

"Among other things,"

"So where did you get this?" Max questioned, moving to feel the talon. It had an odd feel to it, and he wondered if humans ever deciphered that it was an organic metallic in nature.

"In a museum. My scanner picked it up while I moved in Mississippi,"

"So then with this..." he looked up at her with wide eyes. "You can clone another one?"

"As was the plan all along," she spoke with a smirk, indicating her servo to the large tanks. His jaw fell

"Is that why one of the entrances to the base you built is so large? I wondered about why you needed one so big," she nodded in affirmation.

"Indeed. I had also considered repurposing the other octagonal rooms for them or... it. I do not know how many Predacon fossils I will find," she spoke, deep in thought.

"But why do you need Predacons?"

"For the same reason your president has constant bodyguards: protection. My survival is a priority and since this planet is the rallying point for the enemy faction, they might find me and I am no warrior. Also, Predacons are excellent scavengers. A beast on my side can prove more than useful,"

"Aren't you a beast?" she stopped in her tracks at his question.

"Well, yes," she turned to face him. "But I am a scientist first and foremost. I was not forged with my bestiality but I was forged with my intellect. I will not allow that facture of my being take over. I... refuse not to be in complete control of my actions," she explain, helm tilted down towards him.

"A lion is savage and beasty in nature, but that doesn't mean he isn't in full control of his actions. He know exactly what he's doing when he rips out a deer's throat,"

"...Touché," she shook her helm. "But rather a Predacon than me," she settled the last of the resin onto her shelves and moved the metal containers into a storage unit in the ground. Under the floors of her base was an extra layer where her energon pipes ran and where the mechanics for the Ground Bridge would be.

She had planned everything to the T.

"I will finish the construction of the Ground Bridge first before I start the Predacon production. Nevertheless, for now, I think it would be best for me to assist with the building topside. I am aware that we are behind schedule,"

"Uhm, yeah. Not exactly the building as much as the business will suffer if it opens in the state it is now. That's what I wanted to talk to you about,"

"Meaning?"

"Well, we're going to need a workforce,"

That night Overshot – or rather, Artemis – was invited over the Davis estate for dinner where the discussion of the employees would be investigated. Overshot didn't have to consume any sustenance in her holform, but she could. Her real body's natural antibodies would rid the nutrition from the holoform before disbanding the body by disintegrating it.

It was a weird concept to Max that the natural processes in her real body could be transferred over to the holoform. Primitive mind-set.

His father had cooked all of the food and Overshot was pretty sure that he had made it in surplus. As far as her knowledge went, three people could not consume the amount of food in one sitting. Nevertheless, Max had filled her plate as a 'gentleman' would with different varieties. He kept an intense yet subtle gaze on her, knowing that this would be the first time in her... how old was she? Well, she had helped create the Dinobots whose inspiration came from the Jurassic Period about 150 million years ago.

Shaking away the thought, he silently instructed her how to use cutlery by eating first and her eyes were trained on him. Making a quick study of him, she followed suit and ate as well.

She was genuinely surprised that she registered a gustatory perception. It was... pleasant.

"So, about the workforce: there's a lot to take into consideration. Receptionists, waiters, chefs, maids, plumbers, janitors, security, retailers, maintenance," his father spoke, reading off his tablet. "This isn't going to be easy. Is it affordable? What's the budget?" he looked towards Overshot across the dinner table.

"Trust me, Mister Davis; we are not near the margin for the first off investment,"

"No that isn't good enough. I need numbers. I know people who have a list of highly qualified looking for work and want to know if the annual salary of the chef is 18 thousand or 55 thousand. What is it that you are going for? And what do you plan on charging the customers? Will you make profit? I know you said you did the math, but did you really take everything into account?" Overshot sighed at his consistency and placed her fork down, looking him dead in the eye.

"There is still 1.2 billion left for this year alone," both the Davis sputtered. "What?"

"By an inherited 'bit of money', you could have mentioned you were a multi billionaire," she shrugged her shoulders.

"Tsk, tsk. You could have trusted me when I said we are in the clear," Mister Davis sighed.

"Alright. Let's talk a little bit more numbers, shall we?" they continued to talk business for the rest of the night, all the while Overshot attentive to both his words and the food in front of her. She would not admit it, but 'eating' wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. Instead, it was actually good.

They contacted an agent who dealt with getting the right person for the right job and gave him a list of everyone they required. They also did some rough brainstorming of the products that will be sold and which companies mass-produced it to buy shipments from.

It was a successful night, and with the conjoined planning, it now seemed more than just likely that they would be ready to open in a month. The night ended with Mister Davis bidding them a good night and turning in for the day. The pair moved to Max's room where they spent some time just sitting on his bed against the wall, talking.

It was the first time since their meeting six months ago that they actually intensely talked about their personal lives and not just work or humankind.

"Why VR? Why not normal gaming?" she had questioned.

"Because it's boring, and VR has so much potential," he always seemed excited when talking about his ambitions.

"It is very different from what your father does," she commented.

"Yeah, well, imagine me as a contractor. No way. I like my games and I'm going to stick with it,"

"I hope that your involvement with me has not dented your college work?"

"Yeah, well, at the beginning a bit. Like how I lost the internship. But, after I got adjusted again, I got my marks up again. Of course, all of the people who modelled for my internship game wasn't happy that I lost it. Not happy at all," he shook his head, turning to face her. "Thanks for paying my intuition, by the way,"

"You need not mention it. It was my fault that you lost the internship," he sighed and sat back down. He had gotten a lot calmer with her methods than he was at the beginning. He would admit that his morality was seriously compromised because of her influence, but he did not care as much as he did anymore.

He was possibly one of the first (or even the first, if he was extremely hopeful) to have encountered an extra-terrestrial. He wanted to be written up in the books when he died (if the planet still lived after the Cybertronians' war).

"What profession does your mother partake in?" at this, he froze. "Why are you tense?"

"Uhm, it's just a bit awkward. I don't have a mother. She abandoned me when I was born and my father became a single parent," he briefly explain.

"I see. I apologize for the unwanted thoughts,"

"It's fine. It's been years. It just doesn't come up very often anymore," he sighed. "Okay, I have a question,"

"Yes?"

"You said that Cybertronains were formed but someone else usually makes that first body?"

"Protoform," she assisted.

"Yes. In that case, who made your protoform?" she hummed at this in thought.

"Protoforms are mass-produced and are left near the Well of AllSparks. Occasionally, a spark might find its way to the protoform," she nodded towards him.

"But what then? How does a newly forged Cybertronian integrate into society? Is there a caretaker or someone to raise the baby Cybertronians?"

"Ah, you seemed to be confused. Newly forged Cybertronians are called sparklings, but they are not like your children on Earth. They havr the form of an 'adult' Cybertronian, if that makes sense to you, and there are other Cybertronians tasked with educating the sparklings of the society and determine what their speciality is during that period. They then pick their names, usually according to their set of skills, and are directed in a general direction of where they can find their selected profession.

Cybertronians do not need to learn basic skills like walking or talking, like you humans need to, since we are forged with everything we require. Because our species is highly adaptable with our T-cogs and holoforms, we can easily adapt to any society as well," she explained.

"That's why you could do all those things like hack the bank and write viruses and contact the estate agent," his eyes went wide with realisation.

"Adapt or be offlined," she nodded in confirmation.

"Wow. That's so cool. But why were you called 'Overshot' then?" he was curious.

"Because I overshot the IQ test by a significant amount," she explained, halting in her words. "It sounds stupid,"

"No, no! It suits you!" he waved his hands. "I just don't know any other Cybertronian names to compare to,"

"Ah, yes. I will humour you," she smirked. "My master's name is Shockwave,"

"What, really?" she nodded. "Some others?"

"My faction's supreme ruler's name is Megatron. His communications officer is Soundwave and his military lieutenant is Starscream. The opposing faction ruler's name is Optimus Prime. His first commander is a man named Ultra Magnus and his medic's name is Ratchet," Max stared at her in almost wonder.

"That's not at all I expect the names of aliens to be like,"

"What did you expect?"

"I don't know. Something where antennas had to be involved in the saying of the word,"

"Antennas?" Max sighed.

"How'd you meet your master?"

"Ah, yes. At the beginning of the war, Lord Megatron had ordered all scientists of the faction to join Shockwave at one of his bases. There he set us through a series of intelligence tests before he handpicked his team. We were a large team, but many of the others did not survive the war or his further testing. I was the only one who survived the removal of my original alt-mode with the replaced experimental Beast Mode," she explained to him, bringing her knees to her chest and hugged her arms around them.

"And you stayed with someone who did that horrible thing to you?"

"He was my master. He did nothing wrong," Max almost burst out in anger at her words but kept himself controlled. It wasn't his society to question.

"Can you tell me about the war?"

"Hmm I will save the whole story for another day, but the war started because Lord Megaton and Optimus Prime – Orion Pax previously – had disagreed on the matter of how Cybertronian society had to be ruled. From there on everyone split into two factions: the Autobots and Decepticons,"

"Which are you?" Overshot brought up her smart-watch for him to see the proud purple insignia on the side of it, the same that was on her chest in her real body.

"Decepticon,"

"...makes sense," he commented. "So this war has been going on for a long, long time. Didn't you ever want to stop fighting in it?"

"I was never on the front lines so it did not matter to me. My life was never put on the line that often. I did have a narrow escape once when a bot named Rodimus Prime almost fluffed my spark but he was still unaccustomed to his new body and I could slip away. Optimus Prime was revived after that and took back the role of Prime, Rodimus reverting to Hot Rod again. Thank the AllSpark for that. He was far beyond impulsive and could have cause more destruction to the planet,"

"What's a Prime?"

"The highest leadership role on Cybertron. A mystical force called the Matrix of Leadership picks a Cybertronian. There can only be one and, unfortunately, it always seems to be an Autobot. It is this that led to the war also starting, since Lord Megatron desired the position," Max nodded in understanding.

"Were you a different person back then? Before the war?"

"I am not a person, but I understand what you mean. Yes, I was definitely different. I was... unappreciative. I was incredibly reckless and rebellious; I always made fun of the laboratories I worked at instead of taking anything serious. Actually, that was around the time I met Hot Rod. We had the same personality type and we pulled off a huge prank in the Iacon Hall of Records. We would not have been caught if he did not have the instinct to help the injured. He had tried to convince me to join the Autobots when the war started but I am nothing like that faction.

It was Shockwave who managed to get me to take on a much more serious approach to life. I am forever grateful to him. I really was a loose cannon," Max hummed in curiosity.

"Sounds like you and this Hot Rod has a history?" Overshot huffed in disbelief.

"It was one prank and he was rather keen on fluffing my spark when we met the next time. He means nothing to me," she hissed in annoyance at the thought of that red paint job and helm she had to stare up, his ped holding her down and his arm cannon in her faceplate. Her face muscles eventually calmed and Max stared at her, biting his lip in thought. His internal conflict drew Overshot's attention and she raised an eyebrow at him. "What troubles you?" making his decision, he released his lip from his teeth and stood from the bed quickly. Overshot stared at him with curiosity and a little bit of amusement. He got onto his knees to pull out a shoebox from underneath his bed. He opened it and after he got what he was searching for, climbed back onto the bed to sit next to her. He held out the small paper to her.

"What is this?" she questioned, taking the square paper from him. It was a photo, an old one as far as she could tell. It showed a female with long blonde hair and a red shirt. Her first impression of the female was that the frown on her face told a thousand words.

"She does not seem happy," she commented, Max looking at the picture as well.

"Yeah... she wasn't. At all," his voice was soft, Overshot nothing his change in tone as she thoroughly examined the female. It was then that she noticed an extra detail.

"Is this your mother?"

"My mother?" Max looked at Overshot with a confused expression.

"There is a clear resemblance to you," she explained.

"Yeah," Max confirmed, taking the picture from her fingers and sitting back. His eyes were trained on the picture. "I was also in a war, but not one like you went through. I was in an internal war, and I changed a lot because of it. See, the girl in the picture doesn't resemble me because she's my mother, she is me," Overshot was thoroughly confused and intrigued now.

"I used to be a girl,"