Author's Note: I'm sorry that the story is starting off slow but I had to paint a background for everyone in order to really get the plot going. I can tell you that there are at least 4 main characters that everyone should know well from the TF fandom in this chapter, one of which is an Autobot! :D

CHAPTER 2

-0003 Years A.B. (After Banishment)-

2:30 A.M.

Rayne Payton always had the same nightmares. There were always bad guys chasing her and trying to kill her. Only this time, this one was different.

It began like these dreams always did.

Running.

She was running away from dark, evil voices. Shadowy figures soon emerged but remained cloaked in darkness. They pursued her. Then all of that faded away when she walked through a door and closed it. She turned around to see that she was back in her old home. Rayne had no conscious memory within the dreamscape about the past events that occurred in the waking world. As a result, her heart confusedly felt a pang of grief and longing. It felt as though she were missing something or someone terribly. She couldn't understand why…

Her mother was in the kitchen washing dishes by hand and drying them off with a towel. Strangely enough though, her dad, two brothers, and sister weren't home.

"Hi mom! I've missed you!" Rayne went and hugged her. She could smell her perfume. It was a simple, flowery fragrance and brought her a sense of solace. Her mother returned her embrace with a soft, kind smile.

"I've missed you too, sweetheart. Don't you have somewhere to be? Your friends called and they want you to meet them."

Rayne was confused. Friends? What friends? She knew she had a few but the ones she used to hang out with, hardly called her while she was home. They usually made plans while they were out.

"Okay, I'll go get ready!"

Rayne bounded up the stairwell two at a time and went straight to the bathroom. She leaned down to the facet and splashed cold water on her face. It was right after she grabbed a nearby washcloth and dried herself off that she noticed something super freaky.

She screamed, stumbling backwards and nearly fell down the stairs. She recovered herself and crept forward to view her reflection in the mirror.

Her eyes…

Her eyes were glowing. Rather than the soft, light brown that they usually were… They were a brilliant, vibrant, sky blue. Just like the Autobots…

After examining herself for the next few minutes, she finally ran back down the stairs and asked her mother if their family had any history of optical mutation. Her mother shook her head. Rayne looked outside the kitchen window above the sink and saw government agents with a white, unmarked, windowless van. They were wearing hazmat suits.

They were coming for her! They probably found out about her glowing blue eyes and wanted to experiment on her! Rayne bolted for the backdoor and ran out into the dark night. There were two other humans there…random movie actors, a teenage boy and a teenage girl, that tried to stop her panicked flight but she shoved right passed them. She stumbled out into the middle of an open field and fell to the ground in exhaustion. She rolled over on her back and gazed up at the starry night sky above and appreciated the peaceful beauty of it all. Star gazing always brought her a special kind of peace and serenity.

Then the agony hit her. It was an agony unlike any that she'd ever known before. It grew stronger in intensity and before long, she couldn't hold back her screams as it engulfed her entirely, from head to toe. She looked down at her human body and vaguely saw through blurry eyes that she was TRANSFORMING into a Cybertronian one. It didn't seem physically possible! She screamed and begged for the torment to end.

She wanted to die.

Then above her, Optimus Prime appeared. Rayne's vision finally cleared. He gazed down on her with what appeared to be pity and deep affection. He offered her a small cube of liquid blue energon. Optimus said something remarkably profound.

"This will help make the transition easier."

Now that Rayne was no longer human but had become a small, Cybertronian child…she was able to take the energon cube and drank it right out of the container.

His voice was amazing. It was a deep baritone, filled with love, and compassion. His voice sounded soft and authoritative…gentle but firm.

He gave her a small, sad smile and slowly began to extend his hand.

When his rumbling voice returned, she looked back up to meet his brilliant blue optics.

"Come back to us, little one. It's time for you to remember-"

His face turned grim and sorrowfully apologetic. Rayne followed his movements with wary eyes until his large hand rested upon her much smaller chest, directly over where she knew her spark would be.

"-but it's going to hurt..." he admitted softly.

Rayne flinched and released a pitiful whimper as though waiting for that terrible pain to return from earlier. Rather than agony, a warmth seemed to flow from his hand and enveloped her spark with warmth and a strangely familiar love. She began to sway and felt herself falling as a bright, blinding, white light filled her vision.

Rayne jolted and sat up as a ringing bell, like an old school fire alarm, woke all of the human slaves in the camp. Tired as she was, she thought at first that it was the fire alarm in her old dormitory. She would have to wake up her roommate since she was a very heavy sleeper. That girl could sleep through anything. But once Rayne cracked her bleary eyes open… she fought back tears.

So…their hopeless reality remained.

Rayne despite herself, couldn't help but wonder sometimes if she was really in some sort of coma lying perfectly safe in a hospital…and that all of this…this nightmare around her, was the result of some terrible head injury.

…but no. She along with everyone else were still trapped…still enslaved.

This was real.

Then she remembered the incredible dream she had. It wasn't the first time that she'd dreamt something like this. These dreams had been occurring for the past three months and were only now increasing in frequency and intensity. For reasons unknown to her, she'd been having the same dream concerning her reflection with the glowing blue eyes—apart from the one last night when Optimus appeared—and reasoned that the cause for them, served to merely calm her often tumultuous mind, by bringing her deepest, wishful, fantasies to life. What other purpose could they serve?

Ignoring everyone around her for a moment, she brought one hand and placed it over the area that Optimus Prime had touched. Almost immediately, a soft, warm, fuzzy pulse seemed to answer in response. That dream seemed so real…when he touched her in the dream…it almost felt like the two of them were connected somehow. That was impossible. Wasn't it?

Rayne returned to the present and quickly pulled on her jumpsuit—which was in fact an old military flight suit—and made sure that her first-aid cross in the form of a white arm band was secured around her left bicep. Then she pulled on her special steel-toed boots and strapped on her shin, knee, and elbow guards before making her way out of the barracks. Those items were amazingly enough, in brand new condition. They were most likely found within an abandoned S.W.A.T. van. She was supplied with 'protective gear' in order to rescue other slaves caught in frequent cave-ins or who fell into newly formed sinkholes.

She cursed and had to turn around and run back in when she realized she forgot her helmet and tactical vest. They were sitting beneath her cot. She pulled first the vest and then the helmet on over her head with a grunt. Her tactical vest was mainly used for carrying supplies. There was a penlight, a mini first-aid responder kit used by paramedics, scissors, and bandages.

It was all standard issue nowadays. All medics were required to wear them since skilled professionals such as herself were dwindling due to many 'accidents'…most of them caused when medics were forced by their overbearing masters to risk life and limb to rescue injured workers...or at least the workers that the Decepticons deemed worthy enough to save. They were not provided with stretchers, so medics had to be strong enough to fireman's-carry, the injured away from the danger zone and all the way to the healing wing. Fortunately for Rayne, she was strong and fit enough to perform her duties. Adrenaline helped a great deal. So did the sobering truth that many prisoners lost a great deal of weight within the last three years…at least, those that still survived since that time anyway.

There was a doctor currently stationed at Epsilon-41 with her. His name was Erikson. He was nearing his 55th birthday which made him one of the senior members of the slave camp. Erikson acted as the chief medical officer since he was the closest thing to a surgeon and a pharmacist that they'd had the good fortune of having. Doctors did not wear the protective gear that was required of medics. She was like search and rescue now that she really thought about it. Rayne did assist the good doctor when she wasn't called out for an emergency though.

If any medic or doctor defied their master by attempting to save lives that were not on the 'repair' or 'revive' list…they were severely beaten, usually by the Decepticon's very solid, human-looking hologram and were denied medical care and rations for a week. If they were caught trying to heal their own wounds without permission… they were permanently terminated.

A termination didn't involve instant death. It was the next worst thing. They were forced to train a new slave and once the slave had their new job mastered, the doctor was demoted to a general slave laborer and sent to the mines. If they survived a lengthy amount of time…they were considered candidates for reinstatement of their former duties. That rarely happened though. It was a virtual death sentence. Miners had to be constantly replaced. Especially in the coal mines. Many people developed black lung within the first six months. Face masks and oxygen tanks were limited and given to the slaves who supposedly 'earned' them.

Rayne Payton finished strapping on and securing her vest and double checked her travel-size, supply cache. Her thoughts continued to wander…

She paused and traced her right index finger over the handle of the sheathed pair of scissors poking out from one of her vest's pockets. It was amazing that the Decepticons entrusted medical staff with these. They could be easily used to create self-inflicted wounds and maybe even death if one was desperate enough. Rayne found out years ago, that she was literally, incapable of committing suicide. Even if she completely lost the will to live. She felt something within her soul…like an ancient vow she made…that she would never give up on life, no matter how bleak her circumstances were or how badly she felt.

Now, she had a good reason to face another day. She had the chance to fix and heal the broken. It brought back a miniscule measure of light and hope after being surrounded by constant suffering and death.

Rayne let out a sigh as she knocked a fist gently against her fancy headwear to ensure that it was secure. Strangely enough, it was a motorcycle helmet. Painted with a red and white first-aid cross. The emblem was small but large enough to be seen. It was located just above the visor, where her forehead would be. The Decepticons upgraded the ordinary visors into high tech scanning equipment. Once she put it on and her slave collar was activated and linked with some sort of microchip, an internal heads up display appeared and allowed her to scan and identify wounds as well as monitor a patient's vital stats. It also had night-vision, an oxygen filter, and what the Cybertronians called 'com-channels'. Unsurprising since communication was necessary when accidents happened in the camp.

Rayne though, for the life of her…still couldn't understand why Megatron would go through so much trouble to ensure that slaves received decent medical care. Wasn't his philosophy that only the strong survive? So why give the medics highly advanced tech in order to save other slaves' lives? Then again…maybe that was because the human race was becoming more of an endangered species with each passing day. Many people were worked beyond their limits. Dehydration, starvation, disease, med-supply shortages, exhaustion, heat-stroke, blood loss, and severe injuries that required long-term recovery were the main causes of death, just to name a few. She hated coming across people that had to be classified as 'long-term recovery'…because that label was yet another death warrant. If a slave couldn't work. That slave was considered to have outlived their usefulness. Food and highly coveted medical supplies could not be wasted on them…per Decepticon policy.

As it turned out, humans were assigned to different camps all around the globe. Epsilon-41 was smaller than most others and only harbored about 1,200 people, most of them men.

Out of the three years of being trapped in slavery, Rayne Payton had been assigned to seven different camps. Three of the seven shut down after all resources within those areas had been completely extracted.

Everyone was assigned with permanent 'careers' while 'employed' within the slave camps. All humans were recognized according to class. Most humans they used for general, manual labor—like mining coal, refining crude oil, and from collecting the energy harvested from steam, water, and wind-mills. They were classified as 'GSL's…or better known as 'General Slave Laborers'. Those were the third-class humans.

Slaves second-class or (SSC's) were the ones that had actual skill in a general trade. To keep the humans fed and populated, second-class slaves tended and butchered the animals and grew small fields of produce. There were a few factories that many humans had to work in, namely to manufacture medical supplies, uniforms, tools, seasonal clothing, shelters (namely military tents), purified water, cots, and whatever else the Decepticons deemed were necessary to keep Megatron's slaves functional.

It was only a month ago that the Decepticons informed them that Megatron added yet another 'special' category to his workforce. Now it was required for some women to produce new slaves in order to ensure the continuation of mankind. Rayne heard rumors that the Decepticons had taken a number of humans within the past year and scientifically experimented on them in the hopes of perfecting the human genome. Rather than being forced to pair with a mate that was not of their own choosing, the female humans were implanted with a genetically enhanced embryo. Supposedly this new generation of humans were going to be far stronger, more intelligent, would live longer, and would not contain active genetic markers that would under natural circumstances cause disease. Those women were sent to their own slave camp where they would raise their children to be obedient, unquestioning, subservient, perfectly molded, Decepticon workers.

Those poor souls.

Rayne shuddered at the thought and thanked her lucky stars that she was valued more as a medic than as a future, 'mother'. She made a face at that thought.

Yuck.

At least they would have specialized medical professionals to oversee their care. Rumors had already begun to circulate that the Decepticons already employed some of them.

Then there were the lucky few. Slaves first-class or (SFC's). Rayne Payton was currently one of them. They were the most valued out of everyone, simply because the entire slave labor force would fall apart without them. SFC's included doctors, medics, mechanics, welders, undertakers, cooks, gladiators, and slave-mentors. The slave mentors were becoming rather obsolete now that the entire human race had reached their three year internment mark. First-class slaves were not treated as harshly by the Decepticons like the other humans. That oftentimes incited hot-tempered jealousy within the lower classes.

The gladiators were a different story though…

Their sole purpose was to entertain Megatron and his inner circle. Many of the Gladiators were former military soldiers that tried to defend Earth. The leader of the Decepticons seemed to have a twisted code of honor…because rather than killing them outright, he gave them the opportunity to die a warrior's death. The humans had to fight each other and participate in multiple war games. There were ancient Rome type matches, WWII matches, Navy battles, and Black-Ops missions…all of them lethal. Gladiators ranged between the ages of 17 to 45. There was one rule that Gladiators had to follow.

Never show any mercy.

Rayne overheard two of the Decepticon slave-drivers talking months before she was sent to Epsilon-41. The Gladiators were incapable of committing suicide due to some sort of mind-control chip inside their brains. The Decepticons only activated them if the Gladiator became uncooperative or attempted to terminate themselves.

While Rayne discreetly listened, she felt sorrow as they regaled a very tragic, chilling story. A forty-three year old man was forced to combat and kill his nineteen-year-old son, ancient Rome style. They had swords, shields, and spears. The father refused to kill his child of his own free will and thereby challenged the Decepticon leader's authority. Megatron attempted to employ the use of the control chip… but the human's will was strong. Stronger than any other that they had ever come across. So Soundwave used his telepathic capabilities and influenced the man's mind by creating an illusion. Under the staggering influence of both the chip and Soundwave's power, the human didn't stand a chance. The father became the victor and had no memory of what happened—until three hours later when he re-entered the arena to see the slain body of his son. After that, something within the man snapped. He quickly rose through the ranks and became one of the top three Gladiatorial champions and still retained that title.

Rayne internally growled with bitter contempt when she thought of the last and the least popular class of slaves…

The Inquisitors.

They were the humans who betrayed their fellow man by reporting suspicious or rebellious activity. If they successfully exposed a slave and found them to be guilty, they were well rewarded, generally with extra food rations or time off from work. All in all…the Inquisitors were traitors.

That always made her blood boil.

She encountered one of them once. The end result of the events that transpired was most gratifying. Her punishment had been well worth it.

-Flashback—

(60 days before camp transfer to Epsilon-41)

She had just finished wrapping a bandage roll around a teenager's torso. He had been hit and knocked over by a runaway supply cart that was hauling sheet metal.

"There now, you're all set."

"Thank you," he responded with a weak smile. He was no doubt fearing for his life. She put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Her voice echoed out through her helmet's speaker so that she was audibly heard.

"Don't worry. You just need a good night's rest. You only have a mild sprain. Just be careful when you're working and you'll be fine."

One of the Decepticons, named Ramjet, lumbered over and towered above them.

"Status report."

"Sir, this one requires one day of rest. He will be fit for duty tomorrow. He only sustained minor damage." Rayne responded smoothly.

Over time she had taken to using Cybertronian phrases to describe things to make her diagnosis clearer. Thanks to her high ranking status, sometimes she got away with calling the Decepticons "Sir" rather than "Master"…though it really did depend on which Decepticon she was dealing with. Ramjet was one of the Cons who seemed to be a little more lax and didn't seem to mind her form of address as much. He nodded his head in silent understanding and made a 'shooing' motion. The teenage boy sighed with relief when Ramjet gave him leave to return to the slaves' barracks.

Rayne had to take him to the Decepticon quartermaster to have his slave collar removed for the day and to have his shackles reissued. After he was taken care of, she began walking in the direction of the med-tent but was stopped when she heard the angry roar of one of the Decepticons. He had been conversing with one of the Inquisitors and seconds later, he turned fiery red optics on her and then stalked towards the tent where the teenage boy was resting.

The Con lumbered over, seething with rage.

"IS IT TRUE?!"

"Sir?"

Rayne was roughly swatted aside by the Decepticon and as a result was sent flying a good three meters. It felt like a wrecking ball had bowled her over. Her breath was knocked from her lungs from the initial impact. Thankfully the thick layer of molded, carbon-fiber within her padded vest prevented serious injury.

"You will address me as 'Master'!"

She rose to her feet with a snarl and slipped into a rather bold, fighting stance, uncaring of the consequences. When she spoke, her voice was dripping with blatant disrespect.

"Alright…master…what is this about?!"

The Decepticon snarled at her but didn't bother administering any form of physical abuse for her insolence. He gestured to the man standing next to his pedes.

"This Inquisitor claims that the fleshling you just cared for, was FAKING his injuries!"

Rayne clenched her gloved hands into fists, causing the leather lining to creak in barely contained fury.

"Is that so?" she responded coldly as she turned her head to regard the sniveling cretin.

The man by that point was practically hiding behind the Con's left foot and appeared to be growing rather nervous at Rayne's hidden death glare. Fortunately, that was a perk to these helmets. None of the other slaves could see her expressions due to the darkly tinted visors.

"I was there! He pretended to fall down…that cart never hit him!" the human lackey insisted with wide-eyes.

The Decepticon snarled and reached one hand through the tent and grabbed the wounded boy she recently patched up by one leg. He began to scream but then started choking as he hung upside down. It sounded like he was drowning. The Decepticon pulled the teen out and Rayne was both horrified and then her ire mounted to volcanic exploding levels.

"HE'S A LIAR!" she pointed at the nark as she stared the Con straight in the face. "You want proof that the boy is really injured?! There you have it," she hissed with contempt. "You aggravated his injury when you grabbed him. Now SET HIM DOWN!" Rayne all but screamed. The Decepticon growled deeply but complied.

He and the Inquisitor watched as Rayne pulled out a long needle with a suction tube. The boy now had a collapsed lung and from the sound of it, blood was starting to fill it. She let loose a string of profanities when she realized that one of his ribs had actually fractured. Rayne knew that the only way she would be able to save his life…was with the Decepticon's help. She moved her head up to look at the Con and lightly tapped a button on the right side of her helmet. She opened up a private com-channel with the slave driver. She was loathed to say it but she knew she had to…

::: Master…if you want a healthy slave fit for work, I need your help:::

The Decepticon responded with a simple grunt in acknowledgment.

::: I need you to hold his arms down. He's going to fight me and attempt to prevent me from performing this rather painful procedure:::

She tilted her head up and caught the Decepticon's gaze and was relieved to see that he was no longer enraged and out for blood. The Con did as she requested and used two fingers to pin the boy in place while Rayne took off her gloves and disinfected them.

She looked down at the gasping teen and spoke softly.

"I'm not going to lie. This is going to hurt…A LOT."

With those words, Rayne raised the needle above her head, grasping the large syringe tightly in both hands, and then quickly brought it down. It pierced through the teen's chest and into his lung. Rayne was so thankful that he wasn't able to scream. The look of agony on his face, did make her cringe though. She suctioned out the blood and finished patching the teen up. Again.

Rayne wiped her hands off on a disinfectant soaked rag minutes later. Then she put on her black, lightly armored, carbon-fibered gloves and flexed her hands repeatedly into fists. Once the boy was stable and she helped him limp back to his cot, she stormed angrily out to confront the man who had nearly gotten the boy killed. She took a moment to send the Con a report concerning the teen through her HUD, requesting that the boy be allowed a four day grace period for rest and recovery. It would have been a single day had he not suffered this recent injury, no thanks in part to the scum outside. A response pinged back. She was more than pleased to see that her request was approved.

Now where was she? Oh yes. Time to rid them of that filth…

She walked directly up to the Inquisitor and without any warning, punched him hard in the face, breaking his nose. Rayne wasn't finished with him yet though. It was amazing that the Decepticon didn't intervene. He just stood there and watched. Rayne hauled the man up to his feet with amazing strength, spun him around, and held him in a head-lock. She then reared back a fist, and delivered a hard punch to the right side of his ribcage in an upward angle, hitting the liver with enough force to send the man crashing to the ground in a heap of misery as his vagus nerve was struck. She watched with satisfaction as he writhed in agony.

"You call yourself a man?! You are no man…you have to be the dirtiest rat I've ever had the misfortune of seeing!"

Still blinded with rage, Rayne let loose a shriek and began to leap on him again…after all, it was nearly his fault that her patient—that innocent boy—was almost brutally killed by a Decepticon. But before she could pounce on him, she was snatched off of the ground and was left dangling mid-air, still snarling, kicking, and punching. The Decepticon had the back of her vest pinched within one thumb and an index finger. Her violent motions ceased when she realized what was happening and crossed her arms with a feral growl. She felt like a kitten, being held by the scruff… it was humiliating.

The Decepticon guffawed before setting her back down and opened a private channel with her.

:::The worm was a liar as you decreed. Now he has paid the price. Unfortunately for you, you must bear a penalty as well. You know the rules. No human is to assault another, regardless of intent or illusion of justification:::

He set her down and that's when she fell to her knees and screamed as a high pitch frequency was triggered within her helmet. It was one that only she could hear…and she was powerless to block it out. If she removed her headgear while her slave collar was activated, it would trigger a kill switch. She would become a headless corpse within three seconds.

At least when her helmet was activated, she was not subjected to the electrifying jolts that the slave collar issued since it would short-circuit her visor's internal HUD and fry the operating systems. It was extremely inconvenient for the Decepticons to go through the arduous task of repairing it.

Thankfully, her audial punishment didn't last long. Surprisingly, Ramjet came to her rescue. He had apparently watched the entire spectacle from afar.

"Leave the medic be, Reflector. She did her job. She patched up the injured human. The human worm was exposed as a liar. That's all that matters."

Reflector was obviously not happy about it but he listened to Ramjet all the same. Rayne knew she shouldn't have felt satisfaction when the Cons grabbed the man who attempted murder-there was really no other way to describe it-and hauled him off. Most likely to be executed for his crime. It was highly frowned upon for slaves to kill other slaves…or to get one of their masters to kill an innocent slave who was still fit and healthy enough to work for an extended number of years.

That was the first and most likely the last time…that a Con would ever dare to come to her defense.

-End flashback-

Rayne growled softly to herself and shook her head in annoyance.

Why am I thinking so much? It's too damn early to think this much…

Most of the humans struggled to stifle yawns. It was five in the morning and the sun wouldn't be appearing on the horizon for at least another half-hour. There was a slight chill in the air and Rayne rubbed her arms to get some circulation going. Just because she wore a long-sleeved jumpsuit…that didn't make her impervious to cold.

Winter was coming. That's when everything went from bad to worse. Hyperthermia and pneumonia were going to be the main ailments of the season. Since their camp was located in northern Tennessee, they didn't have to worry as much about frostbite like the northern states.

Each human lined up single file and walked next to a table to pick up their morning rations: namely, a protein bar and a bottle of water and wasted no time in scarfing them down. They were supplied with food and water three times a day. Once early in the morning, then at mid-day, and again just before their designated lights' out, hour. Just because they were given food three times a day…didn't mean that they got much of it. GSL's were given just enough nutrients and protein to keep them healthy enough to work another 18 hour day. Only SFCs' were permitted extra on some occasions.

The rare opportunities that Rayne had been offered to accept extra rations, she always refused. Why should she receive better treatment than that of the other slaves? Rank shouldn't matter, not in her eyes. Her humility and compassion, unbeknownst to her, earned her a great degree of respect from her fellow men. There were many times she was tempted to take the extra food and give them to someone else who was in desperate need. Rayne knew that to perform such a deed would virtually be placing her head on the chopping block, so to speak.

After three years, she still couldn't bring herself to come to terms with their changed reality. Rayne couldn't help but remember her former slave site. That one had been filled with its own horrors, both great and small. The only reason why she had been transferred to Epsilon-41, was because they lost their human paramedic. There had been a mining accident. The former medic was killed when the ceiling caved in while he was trying to pull a wounded man from a collapsed shaft.

Before her transfer, Rayne Payton had shadowed the doctor there and learned all of the skills of the trade. She became a decent medic herself and her skill did not go unnoticed by the Decepticon slave masters. So they sent her to Epsilon-41 to fill the former paramedic's vacant position. Thankfully she was a quick learner…

"Line up slaves! You know the drill!" Shockdrop roughly commanded as he walked around the small gathering of humans. Rather than forcing Epsilon-41's entire slave population to attend one massive assembly, they divided them all up into four groups and the other Decepticons in the camp were assigned to deal with them.

A smaller Decepticon, a minibot from the looks of him, held a metal box in his hand nearby.

Everyone stood side-by-side at attention. Everyone had to wear metal shackles on their wrists and ankles. A small, silver length of titanium chain linked them together. They were designed specifically by the Decepticons. The shackles were only used in the evening while they slept, to prevent a slave from escaping. That's how those two unfortunate souls were captured the other night. Those bonds set off that siren when they left the designated 'recharge boundary line' that encompassed the slaves' sleeping quarters.

Their cuffs were thick and completely circular. A glowing blue light shone through a line that encircled the outer casing. It allowed their slave masters to confirm that their bonds were still functional…and with the neck collars, it was a power source that issued their 'punishments'.

A punishment usually involved a highly painful electric shock. It ripped through the human body's nervous system, temporarily incapacitating them. Needless to say, it was agonizing. Rayne had yet to meet someone who could hold back a scream. She had been on the receiving end of such punishments many times her first year. It was a wonder that they didn't just kill her for her constant insolence.

It baffled her later when she learned that the Decepticons made bets on how long she could endure the electric shock treatment, since it was the first time they had seen a human survive as long as she had. Most slaves that endured constant punishments, eventually succumbed to death within the first six months. It was usually due to heart failure.

So she was an enigma to the Decepticons. She must have amused them. Otherwise she would currently be dead. Rayne figured maybe she lasted as long as she had due to her young age. Her heart so far could handle the strain. Other humans that were older than her…couldn't.

She frowned as she glanced down at her shackles and closed her eyes for a moment. They were about to trade their wrist and ankle cuffs for neck collars. What was so terrible about the collars besides still maintaining the ability to administer electric shocks…they could freaking explode. They only exploded if a human made it over or under the electric fence. Rayne had never seen it happen personally but she'd heard horror stories from other people.

Shockdrop walked in front of them and used a scanner to deactivate their shackles. They fell to the ground with heavy 'thumps' and for just a moment…everyone got to experience the sensation of what freedom used to feel like.

…and then came the damn collars.

The minibot was the one who walked down the line to fasten and activate the slave collars. Rayne was the last one in line. She was thankful that the visor was tinted so that she could glare daggers of death upon their alien overlords without fear of retribution. Every single time the collar was locked in place she had to bite back a snarl. There was a small cord that connected the back of the collar to the base of the helmet where a microchip was inserted inside a small power slot. The HUD immediately flared to life. It reminded her a lot of 'Ironman's' heads up display from the movies. It was a miracle that after five months of wearing this damn thing, that her vision wasn't damaged or irreparably impaired.

Shockdrop began to speak. He was heard clearly through her audio filter. There were so many days that she wished she had a mute button…

"We have two new additions to our work site. They're going to be with us for quite some time. Obey them and you won't suffer."

Wow…that was short, sweet, and to the point.

He moved as though to walk away but turned back around and spoke as though in afterthought.

"You will individually receive a one-on-one mental evaluation with my superior officer. Resist him and you will be subjected to an agony unlike any other you've ever known, of that I can promise you…" he growled in warning.

He didn't elaborate any further and the 'new additions' had yet to appear.

Well that was vague…

They were ordered to stand at attention and were not to move while Shockdrop lumbered away out of sight. Soon the ground began to slightly quake from the heavy footfalls of another mech. This one sounded larger. Then at last, he rounded a corner and revealed himself. He stood before the assembly and remained silent. Rayne's eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

HOLY SHIT! IT'S SOUNDWAVE!

It almost seemed as though her mental scream had been heard because it did elicit a very creepy response. She felt the urge to run away when he turned his head to look directly at her. It felt like he was boring his red optics straight through her helmet. Before she could stop herself, her thoughts began to run rampant.

Wow, he looks a lot like his G1 counterpart. He has the facemask and everything. Only this Soundwave looks far cooler. He looks like a total badass!

Feeling highly uncomfortable and quite paranoid, she surveyed the other humans around her and noticed that none of them seemed to register any form of recognition.

Am I the only one who knows who he is?!

Rayne didn't realize she had taken one step out of line in her dazed amazement until she was pulled back in place by one of her comrades.

Moments later, Shockdrop returned but he was not alone. Rayne had yet another internal outcry of disbelief.

HOLY CRAP! RUMBLE?!

That was when Rayne HEARD an unmistakable voice within her head. It was deep…but not nearly as dark or as sinister as she expected…if anything, it sounded highly amused.

/No. He is FRENZY/

That was odd. Shouldn't he be super pissed that she didn't mentally call them 'Master'? Rayne resisted the urge to cross her arms as she frowned. Reading her mind like this…was not fair. Her thoughts were private and her mind was the one refuge she could retreat to whenever she needed to silently and mentally vent. It was the one place where the Decepticons couldn't torture, dominate, or punish her for the many traitorous words and daydreams that she often had.

Rayne formed a fist and knocked her knuckles against the side of her helmet as though testing to see if her com-channel had shorted out and half wondered if she'd simply imagined it. Keeping her eyes set upon Soundwave, still highly skeptical that she'd heard his voice at all…though she knew she undoubtedly had…reached both hands up and prepared to pull off her helmet. That's when she detected a strange shift in Soundwave's demeanor and she paused mid-motion.

He had taken one step forward in her direction and partially raised his arm. His fingers imperceptibly twitched as though tempted to fully outstretch his hand towards her.

Rayne's eyes widened considerably when the full implication of what she had nearly done hit her like a ton of bricks.

She couldn't pull her helmet off to examine it…or the collar would explode.

Oh yeah. She forgot about that little detail.

Soundwave was trying to warn me…

Rayne attempted to open a com-channel with him but discovered that she did not yet have his frequency. She used hand signals that the Decepticons taught her to use, to silently let him know that she was trying to com him but couldn't.

Now her unorthodox behavior was starting to draw unwanted attention, as the other human slaves gawked at her. Some gave her frowns, glares, and expressions of profound confusion.

Wonderful. Just wonderful.

She growled and slammed a palm against her helmeted forehead and stared down at the ground in frustration. This was not how she wanted to start her day!

Why couldn't things just be simple?

It took two minutes for Rayne to realize that everyone around her had been dismissed. A dark shadow was cast over her and she looked up to see Shockdrop's glowering sneer. He growled, obviously in a foul mood.

"What are you doing still standing around?! I gave the order minutes ago for all slaves to return to work. Just because you are one of my SFC's, doesn't mean you are above the rules! This should remind you of your place!" He reared a hand back as though he was about to back-hand her.

Rayne flinched and turned her head away. Her body tensed, mentally preparing herself for the fall-out of such an action. To him, slapping her would be like swatting a fly. To Rayne…it was like getting hit by a speeding freight train.

She turned her head back around when she saw movement beyond her peripheral vision that was not of the slave driver's making. She allowed herself to relax when Soundwave stopped Shockdrop's slap mid-motion by grabbing his wrist from behind. That was when Rayne heard his voice…his real voice. It was a bit different from his mental one but still retained many of the same characteristics.

"Do not harm this human."

Huh. It wasn't quite like the G1 cartoons. He still had the same electronic tone, just like the rest of the Cybertronians. His voice was deep, smooth, and authoritative. Emotion was nearly devoid from his tone… although he did still retain minute inflections within his speech pattern that might suggest what he could possibly be feeling. He was very difficult to read. Rayne gave up after the first twenty seconds.

What Soundwave said next, froze the blood in her veins and inspired pure, heart stopping fear.

"She is the first one I will be psychologically evaluating. The medic comes with me…"

TO BE CONTINUED!

Author's Note: *Gasp*-What do you think Soundwave meant by 'psychological evaluation'? First person to get it right, gets an energon pie! :D

Also, I'm sorry to say it might take a while to update another chapter because I start my new job tomorrow. :/ I made this chapter extra long though! Thanks for reading and please review!