Something jumped on my back from behind.

I fell flat on my chest plates, the ground folding neatly underneath me. The attacker yelled a battle cry, tumbling off of me. I straightened my back struts, hauling myself to one knee, turning to glare at my attacker.

The Autobot femme !

She was standing before me, blades open and ready. I activated my transformation cog for the first time in years, my servos separating into blades. She released another battle cry, charging towards me.

Just as I was about to stand against her, a shock erupted through my spark.

Before she reached me, I cried out in pain, crumbling in on myself. My intakes heavy, my blades transformed back into servos, I felt the barrel of the autobot's blaster press firmly against my helm.

"Surrender, Con," she growled in a low, threatening voice. I yielded, still recovering from the shock to my spark. "Optimus," I heard her comm. "I have located the signal. Rendezvous to my coordinates,"

"Remember, pet," my Lord's voice took over my helm. I focused on it, pulling myself away from the pain. "You are to gain the Autobot's trust. That is all."

"Yes, master," I whispered my reply, sitting up slowly.

"Easy," she threatened, tensing as I crossed my legs underneath me.

"Yes, ma'am," I responded automatically. I later my servos, palms up, across each knee, well away from the other. I bowed my helm and closed my optics, awaiting for my instructions.

When I heard more engines pull up, I barely even flinched. The now familiar sound of transformations filled the air, three different sets of peds accompanied the femme beside me. Two were heavy, like my Lord's, and the third was a lighter.

"Arcee," a deep baritone I recognized called. "Why did you -"

"I didn't," she interrupted, my inner self flinching. Master never let his troops interrupt him "She did it herself, I didn't tell her to do anything."

The heavier set stopped in front of me. I looked forward, seeing blue peds. He reached down for my servos, but I moved them up, slowly, to his.

Stasis cuffs. A completely different situation than when I first used them.

There was another transformation when there was a force under my arms. I stood automatically, following the rather harsh leads of the bot behind me. They led me to into a trailer, where I crossed my legs obediently, allowing them to lock me into the darkness.

I closed my optics, counting my intakes as the semi pulled forward. I focused on the purr of the magnificent engine, the way the driver shifted flawlessly, the way his turns never even jostled the contents inside.

Finally, we rolled to a stop. There were more transformations and hushed voices outside of the walls.

Then, light.

Rough servos latched onto my shoulder plates, pulling me out. My metals screamed in protest as they were scratched, but when my aft hit the ground I froze.

The Autobot base.

Directly underneath me was a face, much like that of the decepticons, which was embroidered onto my spark chamber. That was the most cruel thing that my Lord had done to me, and I have no doubt that he could do worse. So much worse. But this face ? This face was far more kind. Instead of the sharp, pointed edges I was forced to love, they were softer, rounder, kinder. The walls were high and mighty, solid rock, I think. To one side was what looked to be a path to nowhere. The other side was a wall of computers. Surrounding me were the peds of the Autobot's, plus two more.

My optics didn't miss a hallway to the right of the massive green bot. I could barely pick up the sound of three heartbeats.

"See?" the femme argued to one of the others. "She's not resisting. But yet she bears the decepticon signal."

"Not every decepticon will fight you at the drop of a helm covering, Arcee," a lighter, rougher voice argued.

"Yeah, but Bulk…" she trailed off, and I could feel her optics on mine. "This one is different. I know she's different."

Heavy blue peds came to a stop directly in front of me. I kept my helm bowed, not daring to move.

"Ratchet," the being in front of me spoke, his deep baritone rumbling my chest plates. "Her communications?"

"Scrambled," a lighter voice I hadn't heard yet came from somewhere away from me. "She cannot actively communicate with the decepticons while she is in this base,"

Shit.

"Permission to speak, sir,"

The hangar fell silent at my words. The air was heavy, and I suddenly tensed, waiting for the back hand that was to come.

But it never did.

"Permission granted," he allowed, though his voice was hesitant.

"Please don't cut off my communications, sir. If Master can't reach me… there's no telling what-"

Electricity shot from the device in my chest, my spark convulsing on itself. I bit my inner lip plates, stifling the shriek that threatened to escape. My helm pulled forward some more, my processors hoping that the bots towering over me didn't notice.

"Don't shut off communications with Buckethead?" the green one almost laughed. "So you can tell him right where you are? Ha! I don't think so,"

I hung my head in silence, trying to IGnore the aftermath of the latest shock, and the fear behind not communicating with my Lord.

"The real question is, Optimus," the stranger voice said. "What are we to do with her? We can't leave her in the hangar all day,"

"No, we cannot," the baritone responded. "We cannot put our allies at risk."

"But for now?" The green one asked again. "We begin questioning?"

I obediently followed the cues I was given through the time span. Stand, lay, servos, peds, close, open. They were easy, and the set of servos at my side were those of a gentle spark. I learned his designation to be Ratchet, and he acted tough, but I could tell he was a real sweetheart at times, when needed, I guess. It wasn't long before I was laying on a berth, strapped down, facing the Autobot's.

It was hard to bow my helm in the position I was in, so I just simply chose a spot on the rock ceiling to stare at. The red and blue mech, Optimus Prime, stepped forward. He had wide chest plates with a small waist, much like Master did. But, his optics were kind, unlike Master.

"What is your designation?" he asked, his voice low and threatening, leaving no room for questions.

"My designation-" I was cut off with a shock through my spark. I quickly closed my mouth, cutting off the pained cry that almost escaped. Master didn't want me to answer.

"You designation…" the bot before me demanded of me, again.

I took a moment, ignoring the still tingling sensation in my spark. I quickly closed my optics, unable to bow my helm. "I'm sorry sir, but Master does not wish that I reveal that information to you,"

"Her name is Kenya, sir," came a softer, younger voice from somewhere to the side. I was tempted to peek, but I didn't want to risk it. "Megaturkey called her that while we were on their base."

"Kenya," the bot in front of me rumbled, his baritone rumbling my chest plates. "Where are you from?"

"I-" I couldn't help the small shriek that escaped this time. I growled lowly, straining against my bonds as I struggled with accommodating the pain.

"Ratchet," the bot questioned.

I heard the now familiar joints grinding together, moving to stand in front of me. There was silence as he looked me over, though I didn't dare to move.

"Her spark's recovering from distress, though what distress is what I'm curious about," came the report from the good doctor. "Medically, there is nothing else wrong with her,"

I growled, laying back further into my restraints. The mech in front of me continued his questioning.

"Where are you from, Kenya?"

I hesitated slightly, expecting a hit in return. When nothing came, I took a deep intake, onlining my optics to look back up at the spot on the ceiling. "I'm sorry, Master," I whispered. I took a deep intake again, before answering the question. "I am from the planet Earth, sir," I waited for another shock, but visibly relaxed when none came.

"How did you come into a Cybertronian frame?" Ratchet, this time, asked me.

"I am unsure, sir. But, from my understanding, I am a product of a controlled experiment of Shockewave's between the effects of a human, dark energon, and a blank protoform,"

"Explains why she showed up as dark energon on our scanners," the green one said.

"How do you maintain a frame?" Ratchet asked again.

I hesitated for half a second, trying to make sense of his words. "I'm, sorry, sir," I bowed my helm, despite the awkward position I was in. "I do not understand,"

"What do you eat?" came a chirp voice from the side.

"Miko!" Bulkhead, the green one, scolded.

I was afraid to move, though my audios picked up three heartbeats in the direction of the new voice. Miko?

"Oh, come off it, Bulk," the girl scolded back. "Human translator!"

"I am not given a lot, ma'am," I answered the new question that I understood. "I am only given what I can scavenge. Most of the soldiers on the ship are cruel, but there are a few that show the smallest of graces. Sometimes… at a price,"

"Ma'am?" she questioned, her voice sounding appalled. "Since when does a giant decepticon call me ma'am?"

"I must address all of those above me in such a matter, ma'am. And as I am a slave, I am at the bottom. Master will not accept any less from me,"

The room was silent as my words sunk in. It wasn't long before the peace was broken by the deep baritone that was still in front of me.

"Is that why you refuse to look any one of us in the optic, Kenya?"

I paused, still not moving.

"What did it cost you, Kenya?"

Master removed his digits from my valve, my frame clenching from lack of release. I found myself fighting the urge to squirm underneath his frame, knowing the consequences that would follow if I did.

"Do you know why I do this, slave?" He asked, his voice low and rough.

"Yes, Master," I responded as he bent down, encasing my mech struts with his servos. Though I didn't need oxygen, my human instincts still panicked at the circulation that was fading.

"Tell me," he growled, tightening his servo more.

"I… I didn't obey, my Lord,"

"That's right," he sneered, pushing against me. "And this is what will come to you everytime you disobey. But, as time goes on… the less I care. Understand?"

I nodded frantically, using all of my willpower to not tear his wretched servos from my throat. "Yes, master,"

"I can still survive on the food that is ate by humans, sir," I responded, shaking off the memory. I figured giving him this information would be easier than opening up about my life rules. "Sometimes, Master would instruct me to remain in my human holoform, and eat what scraps they scavenged while my true form obeyed his command. He said it saved precious time,"

"You have a holoform too?" the older of the three heartbeats asked.

"Jack-" the femme scolded, before the room silenced once again.

Too? "Yes, sir. I can show you if you'd like," the room fell silent as I concentrated. I formed a beam of light on the floor below me. I shook the light faster and faster, until it formed solid matter. The new human standing below looked just as my frame does now, and before I was changed. She had long, blood red hair that fell in wavy lengths just above her waistline. Her blue jeans were ripped in multiple places, the fabric that was left around her knees worn and thin. Her shirt was also ripped, but much worse than her jeans, barely covering the necessary parts. Her skin was white as snow, a side effect of being trapped on the decepticon ship for so long. Her skin color didn't aid in hiding the many bruises and cuts scattered throughout her form. Her face, however, was soft, warm, comforting. Her blazing blue eyes didn't move up from the floor, though those close to the ground could see the small amount of freckles that covered the bridge of her nose. I struggled to keep the light moving, and keeping my frame from collapsing. Though, I had many a practice with this skill, and it wasn't something I could lose easily.

"You're so pretty," Miko said, moving towards my holoform.

I tensed, backing away a bit. I folded my arms behind my back neatly, allowing my knees to fall to the ground below. I held that position, not daring to move until I was given orders too.

"Kenya?" the deep baritone called from beside my human body. "Look at me," I looked up immediately, meeting the electric blue eyes of a man I had never seen before. He was wearing dark blue jeans that were in much better condition than my own. His red undershirt was showing between the folds of his blue jacket, orange flames licking at the sides of his sleeves. He was in perfect shape, his hair slightly longer than really necessary, though it fell perfectly to his right side, a stunning dark blue. I held his gaze for a moment, waiting for him to speak, though he never did. His eyes softened as he held out a hand to me. I bounced my eyes unsure between his eyes and his hand, before shakily taking the hand in my own. He hauled me up to my feet, my knees screaming in protest as he did. "You don't have to do that here," The bonds on my ankles and my wrists were released, the bot form of Optimus Prime hauling my frame to its pedes. "Please, let Ratchet properly asses you for damages done by the decepticons,"

I bowed my helm, before nodding, both metal and flesh body.

Then I received another shock, sending me back to my knees.