The Wreckers: Human Unit

Ch1: Setting Up Base

"So, let me get this straight? We don't have to take Automanian to NATO?"

"No, that's just what the government planned to do with it. But now that its plans are legally mine, I can do whatever I want with it. Well, there's still investors I have to convince to keep funding us, but Fowler did manage to have some private bank accounts that are connected to the project."

"Miko, do you realize how much money is here? You're practically a billionaire. No, not practical. Wrong phrasing, you are a billion."

"No, Automanian has billions of dollars to fund it. I just happen to own Automanian- because Jack is an idiot who can't see opportunity- I can't just use the money for my own means."

"Uh-huh."

"I mean, I could change Automanian into a tattoo parlor and forever more take my anger out on people's skin."

"I wouldn't advise it."

"Me either, but it'd piss my parents and host parents off."

- - - - - - - - - -

A Month Later
3rd person (whoever reads this, do u prefer 1st or 3rd person POV?):

"When I agreed to quit the military and join your Automanian society," Millers mumble around a big cardboard box of her belongings, "I expected to have my own laboratory, fit with the best materials human technology could provide. Maybe even the best alien tech Earth could provide. I was not expecting-"

Huffing, Millers dropped the box unceremoniously in the corner. "A broken down bar with a subpar 'loft' area that serves as 'living quarters'." She looked over at Miko who was trying to fix a panel on the bar that seemed to have been kicked in. Miko looked up from her work and had to bite her lower lip to keep from laughing.

The past two months with Millers had taught Miko much about her new companion. Over the years, Miko realized she would compare people to the transformers she knew. Millers reminded her of Doc Knoc- er, Knockout. She was very prideful, always keeping a neat image. Her wild, curly hair straightened or pulled back into a ponytail that slicked the hair before puffing out in the back. She always worried about her clothes, over thinking the outfit. Like today, she spent twenty minutes trying to figure out what "style" she wanted. She finally decided on grunge. Miko didn't think she knew what that meant. Tight, pale blue jeans with patches in them with a crop top. Plus a scrunchy. Maybe she meant visco, either way she seemed to be hating yet flaunting it.

Well not anymore. Millers slumped over, a mere shadow of her usual superior self. Her hair was frizzy around her head, the humid air of the old bar not helping. Miko's gaze travel from her hair to her wrists yet she couldn't find the scrunchy. Millers's clothes were stained and she'd probably freak out and burn them once she figured it out. Miko asked if she was a germaphobe, but Millers scoffed and went on a rant about doing an experiment that made a biological weapon out of some microorganisms. Miko asked how it went, a little scared since the organisms could apparently eat human flesh similarly to acid. Millers had opened her mouth then closed it. She then walked off muttering something about canceled.

Millers seemed to realize how many of her projects were canceled that day.

"Well, if you're second guessing your decision," Miko sneered, wrinkling her nose as she hammered the new board in place, "then you can just go sobbing back to your petty superiors and-"

Millers scoffed, coming over and looking through the assortment of old alcohol on the shelves. Most of it they had to throw away, Miko had fun going out to the alley and smashing the bottles, but Millers insisted some were salvageable.