Chapter Ten: By Any Means Necessary

"Samantha Jane Witwicky!" A deep, bass voice called ominously through the walls of the NEST Base currently located in the Nevada desert. At one end of the base, as completely out of range of any of the Autobot sensors as she could physically get, the blonde teen in question widened her eyes in alarm.

"Oh shiitake mushrooms." Michael Banes allowed in a harsh breath.

"Work faster!" Sam harried the other teen, her fingers working even more rapidly with the locking mechanism attached to the gangplank of the cargo plane. Mike shot her a scalding look as he fiddled less deftly with his own task. She had given him the instructions. All he had to do was follow them.

"What do you think I'm doing? Taking a holiday?" He groused, his eyes constantly flicking between her, his work, and the bottom of the gangplank as if suspecting a supped-up vehicle to pop up out of nowhere. "How did I let you talk me into this? They're going to skin me alive, put the skin back on, and then skin me again."

"No they won't." She assured him with a slight tilt to her lips. "The shock of the first peeling would kill you and they wouldn't be able to bring you back for a second round."

"Oh ha ha. Very funny."

Sam continued to work on the mechanism as quickly as she was able, carefully eliciting jolts of Allspark radiation to seep through her fingers and into the wiring. After what seemed like hours, which in actuality was only several dozen seconds, Sam heard the distinct clamp of metal right before the gangplank began to close.

"Yes!" She shouted, already hurrying for the cockpit of the smaller cargo plane.

"Why didn't you just get a helicopter?" Mike demanded as he finished with his panel and raced after her.

"Because they're all in use currently and this puppy here was scheduled for routine maintenance. It won't be missed, at least not initially, for another couple of hours." She responded simply, jumping into the pilot's chair.

"Do you really even know how to fly one of these things?"

"Sure I do." Sam replied cheerfully, snapping her harness around herself. Next came the headgear. A quick glance out of the corner of her eye showed the jock strapping himself into his own chair. "You at least have faith that I can, too, or else you'd be outside still."

"No I wouldn't." Mike answered emphatically. "If I stayed out there on the Tarmac, knowing full well what you were planning to do, I'd be deader quicker than I would be in here. At least in this thing it'll take them a few minutes to cut through the metal to squish me."

"Don't be so dramatic." The woman huffed, her eyes gleaming with a particular light that screamed 'I mean trouble'.

"Dramatic?" The jock laughed, snapping on his own helmet. "This coming from the girl hijacking a military cargo plane in order to fly over to Red Rock Canyon!"

"Well is it my fault that they forbade me from going to meet the latest Autobot making landfall and left this plane unattended?" She shot back innocently, a full-blown smile spreading across her face as she watched the final systems light up on the console before her. She'd gotten the plane started the first thing once she'd set out to perform her, she'd admit it, reckless stunt.

"Because we were both idiots once already."

"Were not!"

"Were too!"

"Were not!" She held up a staying hand when she saw that her friend was about to open his mouth to rebuke her once more. "Let's not start. Okay, so we weren't exactly smart, per say, but we weren't idiots, either. It could have happened to anyone."

"But it didn't. It happened to us."

Sam flinched inwardly as she thought back to the very incident that Mike was referring to.

It had been a couple days after her talk with Optimus at the Bluff that she and Mike decided that they both needed a break from the stresses of their no longer normal lives. While Mike wasn't nearly as involved with the Autobots and NEST as she was, nobody really was, he still had to sacrifice at least two weeks out of every month to plan and confer with NEST on how he was going to conduct himself. While he could still play sports, he couldn't afford to become too well known. Like her, Mike was going to be forced into a semi-quiet life so as to prevent detection by the masses.

Following a small argument, one in which Sam tried to convince the jock that a trip to Santa Cruz, California would be a beach-bum's haven and Mike tried to press that Las Vegas would be far more entertaining to two 'just barely adults' as opposed to a fishy smelling stretch of sand, they had agreed to disagree. In the end they decided to go camping up at the Santa Rosa Peak in the Homboldt Toiyabe National Forest. They had each been there before as children and enjoyed themselves immensely. The scenery was to die for and they both could use the exercise.

It had taken days of begging to get Optimus to relent and allow her to go up into the mountains. Unfortunately she had been assigned an escort. Two, actually. Being the 'off-roading' champs of the group, at least in alt-mode, Salvage and Ironhide had been charged with her care.

Sam wanted to smirk to herself when she thought of the feelings of outrage and worry that flooded her bonds with the two when she and Mika had up and ditched the duo during a hike. The two humans had known that the Cybertronians could not follow them in their alt-modes up the mountain since most all of the terrain was made for hikers and forest animals, not vehicles, and had taken advantage of that fact. They'd scurried away before anything could be done about it. She'd had to bombard them all with comforting, almost swaddling feelings of love and warmth to keep the two from transforming, plucking them right up off of the ground, and carrying them forcefully back to the base. It had worked, but just barely.

Everything had gone very well for the first two days. She and Mike had enjoyed two days worth of hiking, relaxing, and eating the preserved foods they had stashed in their backpacks. It was on the third day, though, that Mike had persuaded Sam to skirt the edge of a ravine with him. It had only gone downhill from there.

Literally.

The ravine, as it turns out, had been shale. It was a dangerously thin rock formation, layered as it was, but when one sheet broke it was all doomed to tumble down like a landslide. It was quite unsettling to be the one on top of this ledge when it decided to break. Screaming all the way, she coasted the entire way down the forty foot ravine, somehow managing to only receive a couple dozen scrapes and bruises instead of broken bones. It probably had something to do with the fact that she hadn't dropped straight down. She'd pretty much just ridden the falling shale as a kind of impromptu surfboard. If she'd fallen straight down Sam knew that without a shadow of a doubt that she would be dead.

At the base of the ravine she had gathered herself together enough to look up at where Mike stood staring wide-eyed down at her. When he shouted down towards her asking after her physical wellbeing she'd flipped him the bird…several times. It took only a few minutes to assess the very minimum damage she had sustained and report back that yes, she was fine, if not peevish.

"What are we going to do now?" Mike called back fretfully, his eyes probably scanning just as frantically for a way back out of the ravine as hers were.

"What do you mean 'what are we going to do now?'? We're going to find me a way out of here before I end up under house arrest by aliens from outer space until the next Ice Age!" She shouted in a panic, all the while trying to suppress her feelings of fear, pain, and newfound anxiety.

Too bad for her that while her shields were working now they had not been when she had been fearing for her life in the fall. Before she could even attempt to climb her way back out of the ravine, someway, her entire essence, her soul, was engulfed and swaddled completely by the Autobots.

"Oh shit." Samantha whispered as she felt the all consuming fury that coursed through all of them, even Optimus, at her disregard for her own safety. That was not the only feeling, however. Oh no. There was also a healthy dosage of disappointment and a frighteningly steel-like resolve to keep her permanently safe.

"Sam?" Mike's voice shook as he stumbled as close as he dared to the edge of the ravine. "Do you hear that?"

She tuned her ears in as much as she could to her surroundings and whimpered when she heard the telltale sounds of engines roaring and massive metal peds thundering against the ground. She could feel herself paling as much as Mike had when he'd caught the noise.

"I'm so screwed" Each of them chorused.

It hadn't taken more than an hour for Ironhide and Salvage to tower over the ravine with something beyond terrifying gleaming in their optics, tow her up and out of it with a Cybertronian-length tow cable, and ceremoniously pluck her up off of her own feet to be carried back towards the jeep trails. Ironhide had picked the jock up in a less than pleased move and followed Salvage towards the jeep trails.

Sam fought the urge not to cry when she was all but ordered into Salvage's alt mode when he'd transformed and strapped in very securely to the passenger seat. Salvage's seat belts were the kind found in race cars or stunt vehicles, strapping over the chest, between the legs, and over the shoulders. She was always pinned easily with any other seatbelt, but this set was distinctly different…as much as a commercial airliner was from a prop plane. Salvage had not spoken to her once the entire four hour drive back to the base. He'd allowed the radio to play, but nothing else.

She couldn't even talk to Mike because Ironhide was driving him!

By the time they'd gotten back to the base she'd been placed into lockdown…at least that's what she called it. Her parents had been informed without her knowledge that for the next week she would be staying at the base all while she was being looked over by a nervous Ratchet. She'd been watched like she was a toddler having first learned to walk and was getting into everything she shouldn't have been. She'd been treated even more like a baby than ever before, being carried almost everywhere, doted over, and treated like spun glass.

She couldn't take it.

It had taken the world's biggest tantrum and a screaming match, one in which she was pretty much the only one actually yelling, to get them to ease off of the coddling and talk to her. Actually, it had taken a ferocious wave of Allspark energy directed straight at each of their sparks which temporarily stunned them to get any kind of response that she wanted. It had also left her a bit winded, but it was worth it.

In the end Samantha had won a very small victory, but she had a feeling that she'd had more 'casualties' than the mechs in their negotiations. In the end she'd been permitted off of the base, with an escort of course, but now in addition to having a permanent babysitter, a.k.a. Bumblebee, she was going to be forced to carry around a new piece of technology that looked very much like a Bluetooth. Besides having communication capabilities like her phone, it was also a lojack and physical synapses reader. Apparently her little stunt of trying to block off her end of the bond after falling to prevent detection had not gone unnoticed. In fact, it wasn't going to be tolerated…period. While there was the advantage that so long as her body wasn't in danger of collapsing upon itself in exhaustion or pain, the Autobots would not attempt to kidnap her from her 'normal' life, there was the issue that they might know her physical well-being even before she did.

They better not get even more paranoid and pick me up from school one day just because I have the sniffles. The inner her groused as they explained the usage of her new ear-piece. I'll kick someone's aft royally if they even think about it!

The ear-piece was quite pretty, really. In fact, it almost looked like an earring if it didn't have the small speaker which she would set into her ear canal whenever she was out of range of any of the mechs. It was silver and lavender in color, maybe two inches long and not even a centimeter wide. The lavender was traced onto the metallic device in a tribal-like pattern which Sam understood to be the Cybertronian language. From what she understood, this Cybertonian language was the more modern one, the one that most from Cybertron might understand. Only ancient Cybertronians might understand another one of their languages…that of the Primes.

All that aside, Sam was made to understand that if she wished to continue with her semi-normal existence she would make sure that the ear-piece would never leave her person and always be in use while away from an appointed Guardian. It had been a reluctant agreement, but it won her her freedom…and the ability to talk to Mike again.

The ear-piece was in her ear now, fully functional she was sure since she could hear multiple, somewhat panicked, but mostly angry voices trying to raise her. A rueful smile curled on her lips. She had agreed to wear the ear-piece, but she had not agreed to use it in return.

They really need to learn to be more specific in their demands of me. It's just too easy working around all the red tape they've set up around me.

She'd been banned from going out to meet the new 'bot due to her 'serious fault in judgement' back at the trail as well as their belief in her sudden frailty. She'd healed completely from the fall, but the mechs seemed to be under the delusion that she was no better than a cripple in a wheelchair. A trip across the state would be much too stressful for her.

I'll show them…overgrown toaster ovens!

"So," Mike began with a slightly trembling voice, "are we ready to go? If we're going to risk our lives we might as well get it over with before they nab us."

"You'll drop the subject? Just like that?" She chortled, her fingers flickering over the console adeptly.

"I'll bring it up later when our lives are in slightly less peril, thank you very much." The jock, despite knowing nothing about airplanes and any of their counterparts, set his hands unflinchingly onto the joystick that served as the cargo plane's steering wheel. "So, how do you fly this thing?"

"You aren't going to be flying it." Sam laughed, her eyes sparkling with combined mischief and joy. "I am. If you were the one to try and get this bird off the ground we both would be dead."

"Gee, thanks. How do you know how to fly a plane, anyway? I'm pretty sure that Tranquility High doesn't have a course for this kind of thing. Actually, how did you know how to rewire those locks? That isn't the kind of knowledge an eighteen year old has."

"Side effect." Sam muttered, her heart suddenly heavier.

"Side effect?" Mike echoed, his tone suddenly remorseful. "The Allspark, again?"

While Mike was a civilian, he was still her closest friend who was 'in the loop' and she had been inclined to tell him at least some of her story. Optimus was not against the idea, but he had stated that she could not tell the teen everything just as she could not tell Lennox or anyone else the whole truth. She had no problems with that. Truthfully, she knew that it was better that they did not know the whole truth of the matter.

She'd settled for telling him some months ago that the Allspark had transferred its power into her via tiny nanites, mechanisms he was familiar with since he was such a closet science-buff, and that the nanites were steadily taking command. He had been worried at first when she'd phrased it that way until she'd told him that it wasn't as drastic as it sounded. She was always going to be her, but the nanites were just making being human a little harder than normal.

"Yeah," Sam sighed dejectedly, ignoring Bumblebee's frantic calls through her Bluetooth, for lack of a better word. "The dreams are getting worse. I'm seeing more and retaining more of what I've seen. Maybe a month ago I went through a dreamscape full of flight sequences. When I woke up I had a splitting headache. I wouldn't have even registered that I knew how to fly planes until Skid and Mudflap asked me to play one of those new war plane, dog-fighting games. I kept thinking that the jet propulsions and flight patterns we were initiating didn't coincide with the aerodynamic capabilities of the planes we were flying and then it just clicked in my head. I knew how planes worked…and I knew that I could fly."

"Well," the jock began softly, his lips pursing into a thin line, "that's kind of…cool I guess."

Samantha allowed a small, self depreciating chuckle to escape before she passed a sidelong glance at Mike. She wouldn't call it cool, but she appreciated his attempt to ease the tension that had built within the confines of the cockpit.

Just then she felt a definite tug of apprehension, shock, and absolute horror assail her through the bond. She almost felt like cackling maniacally when she traced that source back to Ironhide, whom she could feel making a sudden beeline from the other side of the base towards where he had managed to pick up her tracking signal. She'd been dampening the innate tracking signal that accompanied the bond, but she hadn't fiddled with the Bluetooth at all. She'd kept her promise. Too bad they'd underestimated her.

"Let's get this show on the road." Sam smiled wider, unknowingly frightening her friend with the strange twinkle in her eye and the slightly deranged grin.

"Sweet Earth! Oh how I missed thee!" Michael practically stumbled over himself as he ran down the rear gangplank of the cargo plane to kiss the ground with little finesse.

"Oh shut up!" Sam shouted after him, her lips scowling viciously. "And you called me dramatic? You could win an Emmy for this little show you're putting on."

Inwardly she was actually almost as relieved as Mike was. Apparently simply knowing how to fly a plane didn't equate to physical knowledge. It was like firing a toy gun at a county fair. You knew how to use a gun, the fundamentals of it, but the second you got your hands on the real thing you found out that you were way out of your element. Oh yes, she'd gotten them off the ground without a hitch, after having deftly avoided being boarded by frenzied military personnel…a good thing she'd had them rewire the gangplank to keep it from opening without their consent…but the second they'd gotten into the air it had been a whole new ball game. She'd been as stiff as a board, trying not to panic when she realized that she hadn't even had a simulation to go by. She'd just had the know-how.

Should I tell Mike that? She thought to herself, looking at the male's still slightly shaking body. Nah. He's already panicked. No need to make him pee himself now that he's no longer in immediate danger.

Speaking of danger…

Samantha winced as the reaming continued over the Bluetooth. It seemed that even though she wasn't answering them with words, though she was sending as many soothing waves their way as she could, the bots were content with ripping her a new one. She'd been told several times already that on no uncertain terms that she was 'grounded', literally and figuratively, and that she was going to be treated like the child she so obviously was. She didn't much like the sound of that, but figured that she could eventually weasel her way out of her punishment once the brunt of their anger had passed. She had no delusions that she would go scot free, but she was certain that she wouldn't be as hampered in the future as a dog on a leash.

Would she?

"You said you knew how to fly!" Mike accused, his eyes smoldering from where he still hunkered close to the ground as if afraid she'd pluck him back up into the skies once more. As if!

"I do. We got here without incident, didn't we?" Act nonchalant. The inner Sam chanted merrily. That's the key. He'll never have to know that I was a complete idiot and could have killed us. He doesn't have to know that I was half-tempted out of fear of doing something wrong and crashing to put on a parachute and jump. He doesn't have to know that I was ready to act like the baby the bots are determined to treat me as and curl up into a ball and cry for my Guardian. Nope. He doesn't need to know. Just act nonchalant.

"You suck." The other teen hissed before shakily getting to his feet.

"You'll be fine." She snorted, trying desperately to tune out the bots, tamp down her nervousness from the flight, and maintain an air of aloofness all at once.

"We'll be arrested, you know that right?" Mike questioned seriously, his eyes blazing. "We stole a military plane, flew without licenses, and landed in a fairly popular area for tourists. We're lucky that no one's here right now to see us or there'd be witnesses, too."

Under any other circumstances Samantha would have been inclined to agree with the jock, but things were far more complex than what he was making them out to be. She knew that they wouldn't be arrested, especially her, because in the whole time she had come to know the Autobots and work with them she had won diplomatic immunity. She had a lot of rights that normal people shouldn't have had. She knew that the most that either of them would be made to suffer would be a reaming from Major William Lennox, possible even Admiral Morshower or Secretary Keller, and then a serious 'discussion' from the Autobots themselves.

Sighing deeply, Sam tried to push the reluctant acceptance away, knowing full well that she was about to learn exactly how good she had had it with her freedom. After this, loath as she was to admit it, she was going to have her hands tied figuratively…possibly even literally depending upon how well she could waylay their anger.

"Incoming." The other teen grumbled, his lips drawn down into a severe scowl.

She turned her attention outward towards the horizon. Sure enough, making a beeline for where they now stood, Sam could see several dark, ominous specks with dust trails seemingly a mile long. They remained near the plane for several reasons, one of which being that it would provide at least minimal protection in case one of the 'bots decided to go nuclear. They were not Decepticons, but that did not make them any less terrifying when they were in a snit.

Her Bluetooth went completely silent for the span of at least thirty seconds and she could feel her heart suddenly plummet at that. They had been yelling at her incessantly since Ironhide had first bellowed out her name when she'd disappeared from their radar. This silence did not bode well for her.

"Samantha," the Prime's voice intoned in a deathly serious, murderously calm voice over the Bluetooth, "you going to learn momentarily how truly foolish your actions were. If you insist on acting like a Sparkling, then by Primus, you will be treated as such."

She gulped, feeling very suddenly like the child the nanites perceived her to be. She was just barely able to fend off the urge to burst out into tears and beg forgiveness. As it was, she bit her lip to keep it from quivering for all to see.

"Will it be any consolation on my part that I am whole and healthy and Mike is as well?" She questioned back into the Bluetooth for the first time since ditching Ironhide back at the base. It was a prideful thing that her voice didn't shake at all.

"Not hardly." Came the gruff response.

She was left alone then to pile-drive warmth, comfort, and ease into the bonds she shared with each mech. She could feel the block they all imposed to those feelings and flinched.

I am so dead.

"Any last words?" Mike questioned her, his face growing slightly pale.

"Nah. I've said all I ever wanted to everyone. What about you?" That was it. All she had to do was play the cool card. If she played indifferent then maybe she wouldn't break down and cry.

"Yeah. One thing." He forced a smile onto his lips as he gave her a sidelong once-over. "You're the hottest girl I've ever met, but I could never see myself dating you because you're too much like a sister to me."

"Good to know." A wry chuckle fell from her lips. "You're not so bad yourself, but things would never work out between us. You're just not my type."

"Ditto." The jock scratched the back of his short-cropped head with his blunt fingers nervously. "I'll hum the death march if you look for a softer spot for our bodies to land when they cut us down."

"Sure."

That was the end of their dialogue. Sam cringed in the absolute silence that descended between them as they awaited the arrival of the Autobots. She tried to concentrate solely on the feel of the incoming Cybertronian, but without a connection yet established fully between them she couldn't truly ignore the others. She was grateful for the fact that at least the new 'bot was close otherwise she'd be in for the brunt of her punishment at this very moment.

Among those present were Optimus, Bumblebee, Ratchet, and Longarm. Beyond them, coming at a more sedate pace, was a military convoy in the shape of a black H1 Hummer. She knew without a doubt that USAF Master Sergeant Robert Epps would be in the convoy as well as several other humans from the base. So, her humiliation would be complete.

As soon as the Autobots had reached them they circled, effectively cutting off any means of escape. Of course she was well aware of this tactic. If she didn't want to be caught, at least not immediately, she would have gotten them both right back into the cargo plane. It would have done a few things. They would have received a momentary reprieve until the 'bots cracked the plane open like a tuna-can or even gotten them right back to the base before they could descend onto them, but it would also only serve to enrage them more.

Longarm took the rear, blocking their ability to reenter the plane, while Optimus sat directly before them. Bumblebee and Ratchet had flanking positions. The only emotion flickering to her from them was supreme disappointment. She felt sick at how wrongly she'd used them.

They all initiated their transformations at the same time, the clicks and whirls of sound echoing across the valley. The rock walls surrounding them so marvelously ricocheted the sound back to them eerily. By the time the transformations were completed, the military Hummer had arrived.

"What the Hell are you doing here?" Epps thundered, his normally dark face suffused with so much heated blood that his skin literally looked charred. His eyes sparked angrily as he took in the cargo plane tucked conspicuously behind them. "They said you flew here, but I guess I didn't understand. You are in deep shit, Samantha. What's worse, you had to drag Mike into this!"

"I chose to come!" The other teen defended her, his blue eyes glittering. "I have my own mind. It may have been stupid, but I decided to come with her. If I get in worse trouble for it, then so be it."

"I appreciate the bravado, kid, but we'll see how tough you are once we get you two back to base." Epps sent her a pointed look.

"Samantha." Her main Guardian's voice dropped down to her from where he stood to her immediate right. She flinched at the tone. Bumblebee was furious and she could tell by the flat, uncompromising lilt in which he spoke. "Come here."

Looking up she tried to make herself smile, but all she could must was a self-depreciating grimace. Her feet shuffled forward as she dropped her head back down. In the back of her mind she couldn't help but find the similarities of her walk now to one a correctional officer might see on the face of a criminal being led to their demise at the electric chair.

As soon as she was within snatching distance she found herself plucked up off the ground and pulled tightly to Bee's yellow chassis. Despite everything Samantha couldn't help but sigh in contentment at being so close to his Spark. It thrummed out to her in welcoming.

"You understand that your movements are going to be severely hampered for the foreseeable future, do you not?" Bumblebee questioned her, his words softer, yet no less lethal.

"Yeah. I understand."

"We will discuss your punishment later. Sideswipe is en-route. ETA two minutes."

"Sideswipe?" Was that excitement in her voice? Yep, she was pretty sure that it was. "Oh, I couldn't tell who it was! I can't wait to meet him! There aren't many identical twins out there. But wait…I don't feel Sunstreaker, too."

Samantha's face scrunched up in consternation as she plugged deeper into her still new and not yet whole connection with Sideswipe. She hadn't been wrong. Sideswipe was alone. That didn't seem right. From what Ratchet and the others had been teaching her about Cybertronians and Cybertron itself, twins were rarely apart. Even fraternal twins like Skids and Mudflap were always together. It would take something drastic, something major to separate them physically.

"I am certain that he will be just as anxious to meet you, too, Sweetspark." Ratchet said with such fondness that she could almost believe that he had forgotten about her theft and escape earlier. "We must wait for him to land, however, before we can question him."

Together they watched the skies. It did not take long before the lone 'meteor' streaked across the sky to land not even a mile away from them. Samantha felt the jittery excitement coursing through her veins in waiting for the Cybertronian to make his way towards them. Being gripped so tightly to her Guardian's chassis, though, kept her from hopping enthusiastically like she wanted to.

Minutes passed before, seemingly taking forever to Samantha, Sideswipe came into site. At first she noticed how compact the vehicle looked, sleek and silver. She thought that he might be in his Cybertronian vehicle form as she had never seen the vague shape before. By the time he reached a point that she could visually make out the differences in his frame to that of a Cybertronian vehicle she gasped.

Mike, too, was stunned, but more vocal.

"Sweet Jesus!" Michael shouted with unadulterated joy. "Look at that! How did he get that form? I've only vaguely heard of its possible concept!"

Sam's jaw hung unattractively as she watched the Corvette peel up next to them, the dust kicking up behind it doing nothing to deter from the vehicle's splendor. Mike was right. His vehicle was not one that you'd find out on the streets…ever! This car wasn't even a concept yet!

"You're a Stingray." She muttered stupidly, her eyes wide.

"That's right." Sideswipe's voice was surprisingly deep and raspy for being around Bumblebee's size, perhaps a foot or so shorter. Sam reached out internally, following the tentative bond she had been creating with the front-liner while he was still in outer space. Forcing back the sigh of relief, she felt the telltale connection solidifying between them. His memories rushed her, most of them flashing by her mind's eye before she could truly comprehend them. The key feature in any of the mental images she caught was the golden look-alike to Sideswipe. Another fact caused her to voice her question aloud, though.

"Why aren't you red in color?"

Sideswipe laughed then before folding open into his bipedal form. Her heart stuttered at the threatening looking wrist daggers that plunged down past the Autobot's ankles. Instead of peds Sideswipe balanced himself on two tires. His face was owl-like with the sharpened crown and crest and nearly boxed eyes and mouth. His chassis was sharply pointed, giving him the impression of being leaner in 'muscle' than Ironhide, Salvage, or any of the other heavy duty Transformers. Overall his bipedal form was just as stunningly beautiful as his chosen alternate mode.

"Two reasons. The first is that a choice of silver for a vehicle here is less noticeable than red. The second is that without my twin here I feel no need to show off my superiority as much." There was some measure of gloating in the words that gave away his narcissism, but from what Samantha could feel of the newcomer she could tell that he was not overly egotistical. In fact, he acted much better than Vicky did in those regards.

"Now I have a question." Sideswipe purred, yes he purred, out as he bent to look her eye to optic. "May I have permission to hold the femme that led me back to my comrades?"

"Uh-sure." She flushed as Bumblebee easily passed her into the only slightly smaller servos of the Corvette. The rosy blush in her cheeks only grew hotter when the newer mech embraced her almost lovingly closer to his Spark Chamber. She could feel his pleasure at having her finally close. His Spark pulsed graciously to her, the warmth of the 'touch' reaching down to her very core.

Not surprisingly she found herself growing drowsy in Sideswipe's hold.

Don't fall asleep! The inner her screamed helplessly. No! Stay awake! You're not a baby. You don't need naps. You shouldn't even need a nap at this time of day!

She listened to the voice reluctantly and turned her attention outward to the now conversing Autobots.

"It is good to see you again, old friend." Optimus greeted the smaller 'bot with obvious familiarity. "Where is your brother? We had fully expected you to make entry with him."

"Sunstreaker is defending the Ark with the others. Ever since you received Bumblebee's call and left the ship we have been collecting more and more stragglers. It is a slow process, but we have located several other troops taking refuge in other solar systems. Sunstreaker had every intention of making landfall with me, but he was needed to fend off the latest Decepticon incursion. I tell you Optimus, they do not quit."

"Nor will they." The Prime assured his subordinate, his optics darkening for a long moment in thought before brightening again.

"Does it hurt?" Her question brought everyone's attention back to her. It was a struggle not to squirm shyly. "Being away from your brother?"

"No." Sideswipe assured her, his Spark pulsing and the bond that had built so quickly between them being warmed over by sweet caring. "It is just slightly uncomfortable in emotion. It is like I am missing another part of myself, but so long as Sunny is well I will not hurt. The same can be said for him."

"Oh." Sam snuggled back into Sideswipe's chassis, enjoying the calm before the storm…the storm being her punishment later.

"And who are you, kid?" The new mech spoke down to the other teen on the ground.

"My name's Mike. I'm Sam's friend."

"Her mate?"

Both teens stuttered at that, Sam nearly choking on her own spit and Mike falling over with uncontrollable laughter. She shot daggers down at the male before focusing back onto the front-liner who was giving her a dubious expression.

"We're just friends." She asserted forcefully, trying with all of her might to ignore Mike's laughter. "Besides, he's just a regular male. I need something better than what he'd give me."

"Excuse me?" Mike thundered, his anger mixing with good-natured friendship. The laughter was gone and Sam knew that she was about to have fun. "This coming from you, a woman that is a lot like a laxative. You irritate the shit out of me."

"Save it. At least if I had a choice I'd get a government bond before I ever started seeing you. At least those bonds mature."

"Well I'd prefer a hangover over you! At least a hangover goes away!"

"Puh-lease! God created women because right after he made men he knew he could do better!" Samantha taunted back, enjoying their word play.

The 'bots, she could feel, were all rolling their proverbial eyes at their antics. Sideswipe's attention was darting between them as their verbal volley continued before he addressed the others.

"And they are allies?"

"Like brother and sister." Bumblebee told the other, a smile in his voice. "They live to torture each other this way. Still, I believe they would both lose an arm for each other.

"Too bad that guy that finally figured women out died of laughter, otherwise I might know how to shut you up." Mike yelled upwards, his arms crossed over his chest. Sideswipe had to shift his hold on her to keep her from plummeting out of his arms down on top of the jock.

"I'm so happy that I don't have to live with you. Goodness knows you'd never remember my name since the only one that matters is the one that belongs to the person that makes all your decisions for you…your penis!"

"Come down here and say that A-Cup."

"Not a chance, Numb Nuts."

"Degenerate."

"Paramecium."

"Pantywaist!"

"Jerk Off!"

There was silence between them for a minute or so, the only sounds being made at all were their deep breaths. Epps had a wide smile on his face, shaking his head. The other humans looked shocked, but kept their mouths shut. Then, when it seemed that another insult might fly, both teens dissolved into laughter.

The Autobots stared down at the young duo before conversing between themselves again, determined to ignore their childishness for the moment.

"It is time to return to the base. The children will return to the plane with Ratchet and Sideswipe. Ratchet will take over control of the aircraft manually. The rest of us will return as soon as we are able." Optimus dished out his orders evenly before looking back to the children.

"Prime, I nearly forgot…" Sideswipe began simply, his hold on Samantha strengthening as she shifter her weight. Ratchet had already moved to gather Mike up into his own servos. "Wheeljack gave me the holoform program to send to you through datapack. It is fully functional again."

All of the human, even the soldiers, grew stiff and serious at that remark. The teens were the only ones to look at each other and pale entirely. The devastated 'no' they shouted in unison could have been heard more than ten miles away by anyone that cared to think of the sound as more than the blowing wind.

Both Sam and Mike fought uselessly to get out of their respective captors' servos. Samantha didn't particularly care where she would be running to or even if she'd hit civilization. All she knew was that she was not going to be made to suffer the attentions of any Autobot, specifically Ratchet, with the capabilities that any other human might have.

She was never going to be left alone again!

"Viva la resistance!" She shouted, not caring that's she sounded like an idiot. Nor did she care to see that every other human present was under the same persuasion to run for the hills.

All she cared about was that she was going to get free and avoid her punishment.

By any means necessary!

Apparently she'd been wrong.

Samantha was currently draped over Beachbreak's lap, her hands pinned behind her back by one of his larger servos. She had been struggling for the past thirty minutes straight, a feat she was certain she would have had no strength to do if she had not had the nanites in her system, but after that first half-hour she'd tired much too rapidly for her tastes.

As soon as they'd returned from the desert she'd been sequestered into Ratchet's medical bay. She had no idea where Mike was. All she knew was that the other teen was not going to be injured in any way…she'd made them all promise that. They'd seemed somewhat upset that she'd felt that she had to ask, but she could see that at least a few of them were upset that they couldn't teach the boy a lesson in who and who not to play with.

She wasn't someone he was allowed to play with, evidently.

Only Ratchet, Jolt, and Beachbreak had been in the room to start out with. Jolt had been working tirelessly on something that she couldn't see while Ratchet, she knew, was already downloading the holoform program. According to Sideswipe, as he'd told her on the return to the base, the program would take at least five hours to initiate and be of any use to any of them. So she was saved from the holoforms for at least another five hours.

Unfortunately there was another Autobot far closer to a human's size than she was comfortable with.

Beachbreak had seated her down in front of one of the computers to have a long, humiliating chat with Secretary Keller and the new General Morshower. The two men had been adamant about their refusal to allow her any special treatment, especially after this little stunt. She was grounded indefinitely…and not by her parents. Oh no, the Autobots and her government grounded her. In essence, she was under house arrest.

Bastards.

As soon as she'd gotten off the communicator with the two men Ratchet had started chewing into her. It had been a feat in itself not to degenerate into tears. In the end, with complete approval from Optimus Prime, she was assigned a physical bodyguard/babysitter for the foreseeable future. With the holoform program back in their possession she was going to be shadowed even more.

She was also made to start writing a rule book of things that she and the other humans on base were and were not permitted to do including appropriate punishments. Each 'bot would keep a copy of the rule book with them and there would be no compunctions about throwing it back into her face when she did something so stupid. She wouldn't even be allowed to lessen a punishment to something she found more acceptable because the rules would have to go through the Prime and Jazz for approval. Despite his laid-back attitude, Jazz was a strict taskmaster and just as enraged by her latest deviant behavior as the others.

To make matters worse another measure was going to be taken to ensure that she never had the chance to do something like this again.

Which was how she came to be pulled across Beachbreak's lap.

"If you spank me, I swear to God that I'll pull out your Energon lines one by one!" She crowed, fighting viciously to get off of the hard lap. She kicked her legs with what little energy she had left, but quickly found those, too, immobilized by a thick metallic arm over the backs of her knees. Her face was so close to the ground, which happened to be one of the tables Ratchet worked and examined on, that she was certain that if she stretched enough she could get her hair to tickle over it.

They did not speak. Instead, she heard a faint click from behind her. Trying to arch her back to see did no good so she was forced to rely solely on her ears. She strained to catch the sound of what sounded like a marble clanking down a short tube, only far smaller. So atuned to that she didn't even have time to flinch when the pants she'd worn were pulled down only slightly to reveal her lower hip and upper butt cheek and a sharp bite to hit her right cheek. She squeaked from the minor pain, almost like a bug-bite, before it was gone entirely and her pants automatically slipped back upwards.

"What was that?" She demanded.

"A microchip." Ratchet informed her succinctly. Her eyes widened.

"You cannot do that! I'm not a dog!" She cried indignantly.

"You are correct that you are not a dog. Unfortunately, you seem to have the same tendencies to run away as the canine species. That microchip is for tracking since we cannot trust you to always put your communicator back into your ear every morning. It is also a failsafe in case anything were to go wrong and you were taken."

"You didn't even ask me!"

"Would you have said 'yes'?"

"No!"

"That is why we did it this way." Ratchet spoke so smugly that she was tempted to slap that inward smirk right off his faceplates. Before she could work herself up enough to respond to that she felt something warm and pliable snake around her ankle.

"What now?" She screamed, kicking her right leg suddenly to get whatever it was off. The object did not move. She felt Allspark energy leach into the thing before it expanded and solidified up her calf and down over the top of her foot. I almost felt like vines had spread over her lower leg before they settled so lightly that she wasn't even sure it was there to begin with.

In moments she was set upright onto her own two feet. She lunged away from the sitting Beachbreak and darted a glance down to her foot. A gasp tore its way out of her throat.

"What is this thing?" She whispered in a mixture of horror and awe.

She sat down to pull her put up into her lap. She pushed her sneaker and sock off in one swipe only to find the thing had indeed travelled under her shoe to adhere itself to her foot. The thing looked like a silver tattoo. What looked to be Cybertronian words were attached to her skin from just below her knee on the right hand side, around her ankle on the left side, and then back over the top of her foot on the right side. She fingered the entire pattern carefully. The thing was smooth on her skin. If it weren't for the metallic feel should would have called it a tattoo.

"I had not expected it to take that shape, but it does not truly surprise me that the Allspark altered it to suit the wearer. It has no appropriate word in the human language, but it was designed many vorns before I was Sparked for the Minicons of Cybertron. In the mines it was too easy for the Minicons to become separated from the main diggers. These…"

"Tattoos?" Samantha supplied, not knowing what else to call it.

"Yes, tattoos will suffice, were applied somewhere to their frames. These tattoos alerted the other Cybertronians programmed with the frequency to these tattoos of the Minicon going out of range of them. It made keeping an optic on each other easier."

"So, what?" Sam began, anger bubbling up in her. "Are you saying that this thing will ping off to any one of you guys when I am out of range of any of you?"

"Yes."

"You jackass!" She thundered, attempting to use the Allspark's power to pull the cursed thing off. Her eyes practically popped out of her skull when she realized that the Allspark's power only caressed and made the tattoo stronger. "What…the…hell?"

"The tattoos were designed to be used without hindrance near Energon and Allspark power. Think of it as a neutral atom. It is neither positive nor negative, so there is nothing that had a direct affect on it. The only way to take the tattoo off is to either initiate the cancellation programming or cut the skin off of your leg. I do not recommend the last option and only as a whole can we cancel the programming within the tattoo. Basically, Samantha, you are stuck."

"This is underhanded. Like, big time." She groused, running her fingers over the particularly beautiful tattoo.

"In all honestly, Sweetspark, this would have happened in the near future anyway." That caught her attention. Her gaze darted up towards the CMO who was staring down at her. He nodded his head. "Yes. You heard me correctly. This device would have been applied within the next week or two regardless of what happened today."

"But why? If you had just waited and explained to me what was going on I probably would have relented and let you apply the tattoo. It's for my safety, I get that, but doing it this way seems cruel."

Are you pouting? Get that sad look off of your face! You're supposed to be mad!

"It may seem cruel, Sweetspark, but it is not. You are our responsibility. You deserve our respect, but you must show us that you are capable of being that adult that you so insist you are." Beachbreak spoke solemnly to her, his left servo coming down to play with her long braid. "Do you think that your actions today were that of a grown adult capable of taking care of themselves and making their own wise decisions?"

"Well no, but that still doesn't mean that you have a right to go right back and act like children yourselves!" She insisted, her tone petulant. "You had no right to mark me like that. You acted like…Decepticons would. You got high-handed with me and thought that only your wants and desires mattered. That hurts."

"Samantha," Ratchet began softly, his optic shining brightly, "we are not all that different from the Decepticons. We are all Cybertronians. We were all originally designed with the same functions in mind. Our base programming is the same. The only true difference between our two factions is that in the journey for peace the Decepticons wish to dictate and rule with an iron fist to keep any upstarts from changing what they believe is right. The Autobots will do much, much more than you think we will for peace. The only thing we will not condone is the destruction of another being or race simply because their views are different."

"I don't get it."

Ratchet sighed. "Our faction has done our share of evil as well, Samantha. The Decepticons are cruel continuously because they choose to be so, but that same programming is in us as well.

"Cybertronians were created from a biological race, Sweetspark. We may have souls of our own and have our own minds, but we were all ultimately spawned from the same source. Far longer than any Cybertronian activated or deactivated can recall, we were created by a race of biological beings seeking to destroy each other. Before we gained sentience all we were created for was destruction and despite the time between the First of us and now, that central programming has not completely gone away."

Samantha looked onto the CMO with shocked eyes. She felt her heart and stomach roll within her. She hadn't thought on it like that. She hadn't really wanted to, she supposed. Thinking, really thinking on it, she realized something very important.

The Autobots were acting like dogs would!

Domesticated dogs, despite being housebroken, taught new tricks, and raised to be obedient to their masters, were still essential wild animals underneath. They had instincts. They didn't kill regularly, but they could and would if provoked. They had a hierarchy between them, like alpha males and the other pack mates. They marked the things that were theirs. They were fiercely protective and possessive of what they saw was theirs. Humans were the ones foolish enough to think that they had taught dogs to be intellectual creatures and subservient to them. No matter what, a dog was ruled by its instincts.

To a Cybertronian, their instincts were their base programming. Years of selective breeding wasn't going to free them of the very thing that sustained them throughout their entire evolution. If anything, their base programming would only become more dominant because it would be obvious that those 'instincts' did work. They might not use them all of the time, but those tendencies would still be at the forefront of their minds.

So that's what happened. She surmised inwardly. I'm like a part of the pack now…a vital part. I'll be treated like pack. I'm treated like I have these same instincts. They're acting on instinct over logic. Instinct said to protect me, to claim me. The originals of their species were created as warriors and goodness knows what they were charged with doing back then, so is it so surprising that they are so physical in nature? So dominant and sometimes aggressive when their base programming kicks in?

Well damn! The inner her cursed, her right foot stomping. That explains away why they did what they did, but I sure as snot don't have to like it or put up with it! I'm not Cybertronian, damn it! I will not be treated like I am!

"All right, I'll concede to your point, but you understand this…" She growled out as she came to stand on her own two feet. She glared heavily at the CMO and included the others by letting the Allspark's power radiate off of her very being hostilely. "I am not Cybertronian. I do not abide by the same base programming. I am my own person and if I so much as catch wind of any of you trying to get high-handed with me again, so help me, I will see every one of you deactivated and brought back in bodies less than capable of movement. My body is my own and none of you will ever abuse it in such a way again, programming be damned!"

Samantha fumed for several minutes more, clenching and unclenching her fists.

Pig-headed, chauvinistic, pea-brained assholes. All of them.

She paced when she could take it no more, determined to find a way out of this mess. She wouldn't injure herself the way she would have to in order to remove the tattoo or microchip, but she would figure something out. There was always a way out of anything.

Nothing is foolproof, her mind supplied gleefully, because fools are so very ingenious.

With an evil smile planted on her lips she settled herself in to wait. She would bide her time and then when the moment was right she would make them all pay. Punished and down she may be, but she had only begun to fight.

"Collar me like a pet, will you?" She muttered aloud, all too aware of the fact that they could hear her. They wanted to play with fire, fine. They were going to learn what it meant to be burned. She would teach them all a lesson and maybe they would learn to think before reacting purely on their instincts again.

"Help me down to the floor, please?" She called out too sweetly to Jolt, her eyes attesting to the fact that she knew that he was the one that had been working on the tattoo when she'd entered the room. If he were human she was certain that he would have gulped. "I'd like to go to the mess hall to get something to eat."

"Of course." Was that nervousness she heard?

Oh yes. Be very afraid, my metallic friend.

As soon as she was set down into the floor she began to hum the Freddy Krueger song gleefully. Skipping towards the door she was very aware of the emotional stiffening of the three mechs behind her as they comprehended what the tune was. Resisting the urge to laugh evilly she sang out over her shoulder;

"Nine, ten; never sleep again!"

If she had stayed in the room a moment longer she might have seen all three Autobots collapse into the nearest support and tamp down on their reluctant fear of the child.

"I have a feeling we're going to be joining the Well of All Sparks before we ever see the end of this War." Jolt mumbled, his Spark still pulsating from the slightly demented wave of Allspark power that had washed through the room before the tiny human had left.

The others nodded slowly, both suddenly very wary of their own futures are reconsidering their previous idea that the nanites within the girl's body were only affecting her physically.

Surely she was inheriting some of their base programming because she was acting in the exact same way any other Cybertronian might act under the same circumstances.

Retribution will be had…

By any means necessary.

Notes: Sorry about the extended wait everyone. Until I can afford to get a new computer I have to make due with this one and it keeps shutting off on me. I hope that you like this chapter. There are only three more chapters to go and then it'll be on to my version of Revenge of the Fallen. I should be able to pop Revenge of the Fallen out faster than this one, but I make no promises. I honestly hope that this story hasn't been disappointing to any of you.

The flashback Samantha experienced is an idea credited to Ishgirl, one of my faithful readers. She was the one who had given me the idea to write stories that my readers came up with according to my Transverse when they might not have the ablity or the drive to write a one-shot, but still wants to see what they had thought of written down (or cannot write it because it is a part of my Transverse and cannot be written without my permission).

Anyway, please feel free to point out any mistakes I've made and check out my Forum. I'll start working on my Forum Story in a month or so. As always, please review and refrain from insulting me our my readers with rude language. I appreciate criticism, but only when it has merit.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Transformers.