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Oscar finally got through, only to discover that there was a frantic battle just outside the base, with raids on the energon plants as well. He could only curse and watch helplessly as the jets blew away.

Help finally arrived, and took both of them to the base. Oscar's leg was badly broken. Bumblebee was terribly damaged but Ratchet was able to bring him back on-line and said with relief that the damage could be fixed. Optimus listened to their report, and told them to stop blaming themselves. "Between you, Sam, and Bumblebee, you off-lined two Decepticons and stopped a third, two of them powerful," he told them. "Both of you fought well against terrible odds."

"What will they do to Pops?" Oscar asked and his voice broke. "He's got to be hurt, the way Megatron was treating him."

"They must keep him alive and in reasonable good health," Ratchet told them. "Megatron knows that. But they will come after the prototype again, unless they have their own. I doubt that. We searched for thousands of years and we only found the material by luck."

"We will find him and bring him home," Optimus said. Oscar nodded, knowing it was the best anyone could do at this point. Optimus sent him back to the infirmary. "Bumblebee, Sam had a beacon on, did he not?" The yellow bot nodded, misery radiating from it. .

"Sam activated it just as we were hit, and it stopped when Oscar got through, when Sam was in Megatron," Ironhide rumbled. "We have searchers going on every direction, but there is no way to know where they might have gone until Sam is somewhere the beacon can work. "

He looked over at Bumblebee."This matter was carefully planned. Megatron was one of the attackers at the energon plant. If he had not left when he did, it might have destroyed the plant completely. As it is, they took three months' worth of production and did heavy damage."

"They thought to have a Cube," Optimus said. "Ratchet accessed Infiltrator's files from just before he was off-lined. He thought that Sam was coming for another download session with the prototype. The researcher did not tell anyone about stopping the original experiment because he hoped to persuade Sam to continue. Infiltrator had some kind of access to the computer even after Lester banned him and he knew that Sam was expected. Sam off-lined him before he discovered different. The attack here was a distraction, meant to pin us down while they got energon, and killed Sam by the prototype to get a new Cube. As it is, they did not succeed."

"No, Optimus," Ironhide said angrily. "He wanted energon, and he wanted a Cube. He has energon, and he has Sam."

TRTR

The flight was pure torture. Sam had no way of knowing how long they were in flight. To avoid being seen, Megatron went high. Within minutes Sam curled into as small a ball as he could manage and shivered uncontrollably while hyperventilating. He hovered on the edge of unconsciousness, his world limited to getting oxygen. His mind cycled, remembering the times when the Decepticons had him before.

Twice the Decepticons caught Sam. The second time was at one of the energon plants, two years before Mikaela died. Four small Decepticons, about Wheelie size found Sam while on an energon raid. They grabbed, gagged and bound him, and then found out they could not get him out of the base the way they came in. They managed to activate his wrist alarm while they carried him to every outlet they had been using, effectively showing him how to plug the holes, by the time security caught up to them. Sam always referred to the incident as the joke of the year.

The first time lingered in Sam's nightmares, and he relived it now.

That went well, Sam thought, as he and the two sets of officials, one government and one business, walked out of the building. It was one of the Sahara countries that no longer had much oil revenue, and were eager for the company to set up a solar energy plant here to supply Europe. He could see the official car on the street. Bumblebee was with Mikaela who was doing the social duties Sam hated and she thrived on. Two NEST soldiers were already in front of him, as the other officials had their bodyguards, and the hotel was less than two blocks away.

He turned to speak one more time with the Head of State when something roared and a force threw him back. He was trying to get up, already seeing blood everywhere, when metal gripped both wrists and both feet and he was picked up bodily. He shrieked, but screams were coming from everywhere, with a major riot.

The four small bots hauled him to a police car and pulled him in despite how he kicked the optics off one and the sensors off another. "Keep him shut up," Barricade said. They clamped brutal hands over his mouth. The heat was ferocious in the car. "My master is looking forward to seeing you, Samuel James Witwicky." He drove through the screams, and some of the bumps made noise as Barricade went over them, until the sounds went away and they were driving over something rough.

Then they dragged him out into sand. They were in the middle of the desert. Barricade transformed, and grabbed him, and began shocking him, over and over, leaving small burns where he touched. Sam screamed until the dust choked him. Then Barricade got a message, and got up. An order to the smaller bots produced a bottle of water. Sam gulped it. The burns were full of sand and sweat, and they hurt fiercely.

The smaller bots grabbed his feet. Sam pressed the beacon on his wristwatch as Barricade walked off just a little, and managed to turn the cell on when the reason Barricade had stopped appeared. The little bots let go and skittered away as Sam got up to face Megatron. "It's time I got my revenge for the times you've destroyed my plans, human. I'm going to enjoy this." Sam found that he could not speak, and then the huge hand came swinging down and hit him-again and again and again.

Sam kept struggling up, trying to get away, but Megatron would not stop, and then there came a time when he simply could not move again. He was nothing but pain by that time. His left arm would not work, and his right leg hurt near the ankle. His skin was rasped raw by sand, even where he was not burned by the shocks or the sun. His belly burned inside. Megatron picked him up and he passed out. He came to staring at Megatron, who looked shocked. His throat burned worse than before. Then the Decepticon leader put him down, telling the small bots to watch him, and took a few steps off.

Chaos erupted again, but this time welcome chaos, as Optimus and Arcee suddenly slammed into Megatron while Bumblebee snatched Sam and got him to an ambulance. The medics immediately began tending Sam, and sweet relief came quickly as soon as they could get painkiller into him.

Mikaela appeared as soon as he arrived at the hospital, her face streaked with tears. She brushed off the apologies and regrets of the government and got Sam home to the base infirmary as fast as the arrangements could be made. Soon after word came through that that Megatron gave orders to all Decepticons that if Sam was encountered, to bring him in but not to kill or seriously harm him. Sam never believed they would be able to actually do that- several of the kidnap attempts had failed because the Decepticons had no earthly idea how to capture anything without killing it somewhere along the line.

Well, that had changed.

When Megatron finally dropped to a lower height and he could breathe more easily, Sam managed to uncurl and sit up only with great difficulty. He ached, but his chest was the worst. It hurt when he breathed, and he wondered dully if his ribs were cracked. He was fiercely thirsty and needed a bathroom. He managed to pull himself to where he could look out. "What is wrong with you?" Megatron demanded suddenly. "You have not moved, not spoken even to complain. This is not like any organics, much less a mouthy slagging idiot like you!"

"Trouble-breathing," Sam said, gasping between words. "Cold."

"Damn fragile humans. We are close." Like that helps, Sam thought, wondering how he was going to cope in a place full of sentient machines that had only the vaguest idea what organics needed. Right now he sincerely wished Starscream had pressed down a little harder. "Fixer will deal with you." There was a short silence. "I would love to start your torment, but I need your brain in good condition for now."

Wonder how long you practiced that line, Sam thought resentfully. Peering through the tiny windows he could see that Megatron was landing. The Decepticon base moved frequently. There had been rumors that the permanent base was not on Earth at all. There was a jolt as Megatron landed, and Sam grunted in pain. He worked off his wrist band. Finally the jolting stopped and the canopy opened. "Get him, Fixer." Sam struggled to stand. An electric blue mech about the size of Bumblebee reached in and gripped Sam's arms to haul him out. He set the human down as Megatron transformed, but when Sam swayed, the mech picked him up like a sleepy child and began to walk away. He did not notice Sam dropped something. "Fixer!" The mech turned. "I need to talk to him tomorrow."

The mech assured Megatron that he understood, and went on. They went into some kind of building like a huge aircraft hanger. Shortly the mech put Sam down. "Here are human accommodations," he said cheerfully. Sam saw a toilet in a stall with no door and headed for it. The relief was incredible. The toilet even flushed. "Shed your clothes," the mech told him. "I need to examine you." When Sam opened his mouth, he added, "I am a medic, you see, and I have treated humans before."

Treated them how, Sam wondered, but Fixer had not been cruel or even careless so far. Sam washed his hands in the sink, gulped water from a glass sitting at the sink, and came out, leaving his clothes hanging over the walls of the stall, knowing no Cybertronian possessed the vaguest notion of modesty or any idea how to get clothes off someone except by ripping them to pieces. The mech noted how unsteady he still was and picked him up again to lay him on an exam table with some kind of plastic padding To Sam's surprise, the padding was warm, and stilled his shivering while Fixer scanned him, "Tell me where it hurts,"he said, and probed here and there. "You are suffering from two cracked ribs, dehydration, and insufficient oxygen over time,"he pronounced, "in addition to a great many contusions. The ones on your chest go to the bone. Fortunately for me, none is life threatening. Your greatest need is for liquids and rest." ne nodded to Sam, pleased with his assessment, and set Sam at a door nearby. "In there is a container you can use to soak in hot water, which will help. Drink as much water as you can. Rest. "

"My clothes-"

"There are coverings in there. Go." Fixer pushed him in and closed the door.. Here, wherever the hell here was, it was cold, and he hurried in hoping there was really a shower or tub with warm water. Then he stopped in surprise. The 'accommodations' were a studio apartment of a decent size, with a kitchen in one corner. There was a bed in another corner with a dresser and wardrobe nearby.

An enclosed area proved to be a bathroom. Something had been pulled off the wall. To his relief, the wardrobe held workman's coveralls that had a chance of fitting, with socks, underwear, and sets of sweat clothes. There were thick quilts for the bed. Sam took a set of sweats with him, got more water, and stood in the hot water of the shower until he was completely warmed, finding soap and towels in the cabinet.

The kitchen area boasted a microwave and a toaster oven, a refrigerator, and a sink with counter space. There was a small table with two chairs, and an entertainment center. He gulped more water, and grabbed a thick quilt to curl up on the bed. Two breaths later he was deeply asleep.

When he woke, he hurt, and he moved stiffly. There was no way to know how long he had been asleep. There was a pack of toothbrushes where he found the soap. He explored the wardrobe better, and found long johns that with the coveralls would keep him fairly warm.

He made an acceptable breakfast after taking a quick inventory. Most of the food was simple, non-perishable stuff. The refrigerator held canned or bottled stuff that was better cold but would not spoil until opened. He stretched as well as he could, then went back to bed with some hot herbal tea he had found, and thought.

Someone human had to have set this place up. No, someone human had to have lived here. The settings were plain, but they did hold everything a human would need for a long time. How long had his capture been planned? Sure, the "Cons would need energy to run their machines, so a power source was reasonable, but they did not need much running water, and they certainly would not need a toilet. Someone had set up a well and a septic tank. Out here in the middle of nowhere, such things were not easily or quickly arranged.

Sam doubted even Bumblebee or Wheelie, who lived with humans all the time, would manage this well, and the Decepticons? Their normal method of dealing with a captured human was to see how long it took to manage to stomp them into a red smear in the dust. It occurred to him that if a human had set this all up, there should be heat in the apartment. That hope got him out of bed again. He was hunting for anything that might indicate a thermostat when he heard the metallic voice he dreaded most.

"Come out, human."

He put down the cup of tea and gripped his courage. He walked to the door ...

.. the desert sand all in his clothes as he tumbled into it, over and over, as a huge hand batted him again and again, hurting more every time, hissing with laughter as he would roll to his feet to try to run, only to be knocked over again, his throat so hurt and dry already that he could not even scream...

...and walked out. Both Megatron and Fixer were in the hanger; it was big enough, though barely, to arch over Megatron. Fixer pointed to the table where he examined Sam earlier. There was a stepladder there. Sam climbed it, sat on the table, and waited, hands gripping the edge. After kicking the stepladder away, the Decepticon leader studied him. Sam looked back, saying nothing.

"How long since your activation?" he asked abruptly.

"Seventy-eight years," Sam answered. What the hell? Why would Megatron care how old Sam was? Well, keep this up, he thought, and I won't have any trouble taking Ironhide's advice.

He remembered Ironhide drilling him on how to handle an interrogation. Ironhide told him that he was going to talk, sooner or later. Instead of refusing to talk at all, he instructed, stall or talk on small matters, while the home base had time to change or protect anything it deemed important. It was crucial to tell the truth on unimportant matters, and lie on important ones. Ironhide emphasized that Sam was to tell the truth in such a way that he misdirected if it was possible, rather than lie. He said that Sam was a sorry liar, as if it was a bad thing. Then he strongly advised Sam not get himself killed with his smart mouth.

The hanger was colder than his room. He shivered, and felt the pad beneath him warming. "How old was your pet, Fixer?" Megatron asked the mechanical medic. Wonder what the pet thought of that, Sam wondered. Then he remembered the medicine cabinet, and the use of past tense. That might be his answer.

"In his sixty-fifth year," Fixer answered. "This human should show many more signs of aging, master. He is more like a human in a third decade." A Decepticon who studied humans? Sam was starting to get a bad feeling about where this was going. What had happened in the desert that day, when he was weakened by pain and thirst?

"I was told by the Fallen that the Cube could be destroyed, but the information would find somewhere to go," Megatron said. "Tell me how the Cube came into you."

Sam told him. Piece by piece, the giant mech pried Sam's version of that day out of him, how the shard had sent a rush of strange symbols through his head, burned its way through the floor, and created metal monsters out of several of the household appliances, before Sam got hold of it again and got it to Mikaela. "What happened to the shard?" Sam told about looking for a way to interpret the symbols, about finding and reviving Jetfire with the shard, about being transported to Egypt and finding the resting place of the Dynasty of Primes, how the Matrix fell to dust in his hands but he had taken it anyway. Then he stopped, knowing how unwelcome the rest of the story would be." The Fallen did not take dust from Optimus," Megatron growled.

"No. After you killed me..."

"You are in excellent shape for a corpse," Fixer commented. Megatron glared at him and he subsided.

"I was revived by the Dynasty of Primes," Sam said. "They told me that the Matrix had to be earned, not taken, and they send me back, and the Matrix was whole when I woke." There was silence. Sam noticed that Fixer was looking behind him, not at him, when Megatron went on.

"And that strengthened Optimus even after the Fallen took the Matrix?"

"No. Jetfire gave Optimus his spark and his parts, because only a Prime could defeat the Fallen." Megatron did know that, Sam thought. What is he doing? Silence again, as they looked past Sam to the wall. Sam started to turn to look, only to have Megatron's hand block his view. He tensed, waiting for a blow.

"Pay attention!" That bark was loud enough to set Sam's ear's ringing. "Fixer, get behind him. Fixer did as he was told. Megatron moved slightly and took his hand away. Sam breathed a little easier.

"What is the device you were using for the download made from?" Sam thought, and decided it was a safe topic, considering all the material was at the base and had been moved by now. Megatron growled when Sam confirmed that the material was not found on Earth at all, and that the rest of the meteor had burned. He wanted to know how they were making energon. Sam was fine with giving him that, since he could not picture Megatron using the process of changing garbage to energon, even if he could get its hands on the equipment. "Where on the base is the prototype?" Sam told him, knowing that the first thing Optimus and Ratchet would have done is move it.

Megatron questioned him closely on how the download worked, then on how Sam managed to find the information. Sam hesitated answering on that question, until Megatron growled again."I have to go into a deep meditation state," Sam finally told them. "Sometimes when I came out of it, I have an answer."

"Sometimes, meaning at times you are not able to find an answer?" Fixer qualified. Sam nodded and leaned forward to ease his aching chest, almost falling off the table. He was aching everywhere, his chest was on fire, and he desperately needed the bathroom. Fixer caught him. "Master, the human needs to void and refuel," the mechanical medic told its master. "He is still damaged."

"Not as damaged as Barricade or Infiltrator or Starscream. I paid a heavy price for you, human. Starscream and Barricade said there was someone with you, who did most of the damage on them." Sam felt sharp fear race through him and felt his face go blank. "Your bodyguard?" Sam shrugged. "I want an answer, human."

"He was an off-duty NEST soldier," Sam said carefully, "but not my bodyguard."

"Starscream said that he looked much like you." Megatron stopped, evidently searching a way to ask the question.

Fixer asked," A relative perhaps?"

"No," Sam said immediately, and behind him something buzzed. Megatron looked behind him and nodded. Fixer moved and let Sam turn to see where the noise came from. The machine from the lab was behind him, and evidently it worked. When Fixer lifted him from the table and put him down, the sound stopped.

"I find it interesting that you have told the truth for so long, and then lied on a matter of total indifference to me. Considering that, I will give you one warning. Do not lie to me again. Here." He tossed something. Sam caught it and realized it was the beacon, crushed. "No one is going to find you. We will speak more later."

Knowing now that his last hope of quick rescue was as crushed as the beacon, Sam moved to the door leading to his apartment and opened it.

"Pet."