Less than two joors after the shooting at the old department store, the Macron Gamma base already buzzed with rumors like an Insecticons' hive. All privates and low-ranked soldiers were talking about the officer who had been caught collaborating with the Cons and about the brave security guard that had got severely wounded during the chase after said traitor.

The main medbay was busy as ever, Thermo and his team of medics had their servos full of work – Diode required an immediate energon transfusion and surgery, Blackjack got his audio receptor fixed and the master tactician had to be examined for a processor concussion, not to mention Low-Key who was still attached to a life-support system and required constant observation.

Counter seemed to be the only one from his team who didn't really need any medical help. He supervised the guards who transported the still unconscious Outride to the prison-wing and the smaller, separated medbay for inmates. Before the medic on duty there asked him out of the treatment room, he caught a glimpse of a disgusted expression on the nurse's face-plate upon seeing Outride's injury.

oOo

As soon as his audio was fixed, Blackjack led a group of ten Autobot guards to the town. Two entire squads may have looked like overkill to apprehend a single mech but after all they didn't know whether Tarpit had any more accomplices and they needed to catch that femme Piffpaff as well. While it would be very hard to pin anything on the femme, she was still a witness for some of the Decepticon meetings and could have some valuable information she might be willing to sell.

oOo

Outride woke up screaming. For a long moment he didn't know where he was or why, all he remembered was unbearable pain, the agonizing sensation of his faceplate burring. He could feel the heat and the terror as if it was on fire. He wanted to scream some more but his voice cracked and went static. Something was wrong with his vocalizer and with his optics too, apparently. His field of vision was more narrow than normal like one optic was covered. He wanted to remove whatever it was but when he tried reaching with his right hand it turned out it was striped to the metal berth. And so was his other hand, this one was lacking two fingers, his legs were immobilized as well.

He groaned, realizing what that meant – he was the Autobots' prisoner, with no hope for rescue and with a bunch of Bots wanting to get their revenge on him for his so-called betrayal.
He begun to wriggle and struggle with the straps holding him down. It only caused him more pain but he had to get out of here somehow. If only he had a sharp object... Or a weapon... His blaster didn't respond when he tried to transform the arm and he didn't dare to activate the acid squirt gun, not after that disastrous, bad orn.

His groans and the sounds of him shifting and wriggling brought some unwanted attention. Outride heard pedesteps coming from the other room and then a femme's voice announced: "Doctor, he's awaken," with a rather careless tone. "Flailing, probably in pain," she added. "Shall I give him a morph-N chip?"

"All he could still possibly be feeling are phantom pains. So don't waste any resources." The voice of the chief medic Thermo cut in. He sounded almost bored. That was at least good as it was a sign that Outride could count himself out of danger. It was also a bad sign however, because normally Thermo would fuss over injured soldiers in a way that made them squirm to get out of medbay as fast as possible. Also what the pit were they even talking about? What phantom pains? His pain was real, as real as those metal straps trapping his servos and not allowing him to touch his burning faceplate.

"Nurse!" He called out and his own voice surprised him – it was strange, filled with static and randomly skipping from high to low pitch against his will. "I need that morph-N!" He considered saying 'please' but after what the damn Autobots had done to him it felt too humiliating.

"When do you think his trial will be doctor?" the nurse asked the medic without reacting to Outride's demand.

"That will probably be a while, when that interrogator is done with him we will have to repair him again first."

Outride's spark stopped pulsating for a dreadful astrosecond. He knew the interrogator they were talking about, he had seen him on the base before and what was worse, he had also seen how the Decepticons looked like after a 'conversation' with him. He started to struggle with the straps again, this time even more frustrated. If only one of the medics released his one good servo...

"Nurse? Doctor?" He tried once more. They couldn't ignore him like that forever, now could they?

"Nurse, if the patient doesn't stop thrashing around within two breems, disable his motor controls. I don't want to waste any more time on repairing him again because he injured himself."

"I can hear that!" He shouted, now even more furious than scared for his not-so-bright future. They were doing it on purpose, they were trying to mentally torment him, damn Bots. "You can't do that to me, you scumbags! I have rights! Cut my hands loose!"

"By the way doctor, have you heard? The higher ups have decided to drop most of the charges against Low-Key." The nurse completely switched the topic.

"Yes, I have heard. She'll get a demotion and most likely will be transferred to another base but at least she won't have to serve any more time in the brig."

Outride could only lay down and listen, he gave up his attempts to squeeze his hand through the straps because the only result that had brought was scratches and dents. More yelling and demanding wouldn't do him any good either. He needed to change his strategy, maybe not all was lost yet.

"It wasn't my doing in Low-Key's case," he started again, this time less loud than before and trying to sound apologetic. "You know me, Thermo. I was her friend. I don't know what Counter Balance has told you but you have never trust that mech, right? I'm not a murderer, believe me. So can you please free my servo? I just want to scratch my face. It really hurts."

oOo

Thermo tried not to stare at the dirty Decepticon scum in sheer disbelieve. Did he really think he would still fall for that? Thermo had been the one marking down the hidden squirt gun in Outride's medical file instead of reporting it. It had been him who had told the investigating spec ops commander to get lost, after the incident with the acid sabotaged cuffs had come to light. And it had been him who as a result had spent twenty-seven joors in the operation room trying to save Low-Key's life. After Outride's takedown, Welder had told him everything about how the Decepticon had gloated about having poisoned the femme. Something crunched in his servo.

"Doctor! We still needed that!" the nurse squeaked, as the coldfuser was compacted to nothing more than a little ball of metal in the fist of the enraged medic.

oOo

As the joor grew late, Tarpit was heading for the bar, planning to see which of the Autobot lowlifes would be there, wasting their pay.

There were indeed a few Autobots present but strangely it was not the usual crowd. It was a pretty glum atmosphere as well, the mecha not seeming to be in a chatty mood. He stepped up to the bar and ordered his usual.

"What's with that weird crowd?" he asked the depressed looking bartender with a nod at the soldiers.

"Dunno, they kinda behave like someone deactivated. Scared off all the regulars too and barely touched their drinks at all.

"How… interesting." Tarpit finally caught on that something was absolutely not right here and was about to retreat without ordering but the sound of several blasters humming behind him told him, that he had missed his chance already…

-Damn that Acrid!- he thought.

"Don't move!" somebot ordered. "Put your servos on the counter."

Tarpit knew his chance for escaping was low, too many blasters were pointing at his helm and inside the bar there was no space for transforming into his fast and agile altmode. Slowly, he first raised and then lowered his servos to the flat surface as ordered for the Autoscums to see they were empty. He had a weapon of course but reaching for it now would be simply suicide.

A pair of bots approached him at once and shoved him into the counter, cuffing his servos behind his back. One of them searched his hidden compartments for dangerous objects. Tarpit grinned when they opened his trunk – that was exactly what he had been hoping for.

His pet-petro-rat jumped out and dashed away, specially trained and kept there for unexpected situations just like this one. The Autobot soldiers opened fire but the cyber-animal was fast and small, their blasters didn't even singe it.

"Get that rodent!" the leader of the Autobot group shouted and Tarpit heard several mecha running towards the open door. He knew that his petro-rat was smart enough not to get caught that easily, especially in the darkness of the evening. It would do as it had been trained for, it would run to the next Decepticon hideout and they would pass its message on. Shame that this message wasn't exactly good – at least not for Tarpit and probably not for Acrid either. They both were screwed.

oOo

The last two orns had been the pit for Outride. Not only hadn't he received a single pain-chip, the medics kept on completely ignoring anything he was saying even after that old slagger Thermo had finally put Outride's vocalizer back into place after some crude repairs – his voice was still distorted somehow, as if all the damn medic had done was dusting it off.

Nobot else had come to exchange even a single word with him. Unfortunately it left him lots of time to think about his future. And even more unfortunately in this near future TiltShift was waiting for him.

Technically Outride knew it was an interrogation tactic to have a prisoner rust in his own coolant, so to say. But knowing and experiencing it were two completely different things. He had seen what TiltShift had done to the Seekers. For once his only consolation was that he didn't have any wings that could be torn off.

Tiltshift's visits to the Macron Gamma base had always been brief and completely focused on his 'work', not on mingling with the soldiers in the canteen. Outride wasn't even sure he'd have dared approach the massive construction mech that looked like he could snap an unlucky mecha in half with his mere servos. And apparently, if rumors were true, doing exactly that had gotten TiltShift kicked out of the Wreckers by Ultra Magnus himself.

Outride was recalling what he had heard of the mech over and over in his processor, not sure what was true. On top of that, recharge was evading him. Strapped down as he was, he couldn't even roll over to lie on his side as he was used to. So all he could do was thinking about how the prisoners he had seen being carried out of that interrogation room – because none of them had still been able to walk. It made the energon in his lines go cold with dread.

It was almost a relief when the prison-bay's door opened to allow two guards to enter. Almost…

The two walked in holding electric-rods in their servos. To his surprise one of them was his old 'friend' Tapwire, apparently back on duty. The guard had gotten injured because of him and might have held a grudge, but still he was someone that Outride knew and strangely enough that gave him some comfort. Tap wouldn't hurt him, Tap was a soft-sparked, easy-going mech. The expression on his face-plate however, was one of cold fury. Outride knew at once that this couldn't be just about the betrayal, it had to be on a more personal level. Had Diode offlined maybe? And maybe the two guards used to be more than just friends after all? Perhaps lovers? Why else would Tapwire feel so enraged over the offlining of a mere army friend? Things like that happened all the time during the war, no?

One of the guards undid the straps on his wrists and his legs while the other watched carefully ready to react. For a short moment Outride fought the urge to do something desperate but he knew how much the electric shocks would hurt and they had their guns too. The next moment they cuffed his hands anyway and removed his tires so it was futile to transform.

"Move!" Tapwire ordered pointing with the rod at the door. The mech's expression was stern and Outride didn't dare to say a word to him.

He was led past the empty cells to that one looming door of the interrogation room. He knew what that room was looking like inside, though he had never been in there himself, yet. Ironically it was Tapwire who had described that place to him, while they were sitting at the bar, Tapwire had been ordering some especially strong highgrade that orn. The guardsmech hated having to deliver prisoners to TiltShift, and the fact that he was feeling queasy about it, had always made Outride secretly laugh about his weakness.

There was no hint about that queasiness in Tapwire's expression now. Not as he wordlessly made Outride sit on the interrogation chair and not as he fastened the restraints. He didn't hesitate neither did he look back as he left Outride alone in that room with TiltShift.

"Now now, shall we begin?" the interrogator asked pleasantly as if he was just there to apply a new paintjob for Outride.