Author's notes: Well, chapter 33 and we're finally getting into the plot. lol. Took long enough huh? This chapter is the setting stone for the rest of the fic. Up to this point I had several directions I could have taken the story, but I decided on this one because I can explore more with this angle then the others.

Thirty-three: Voices

The air hung around the gathering like a fog, under their umbrellas they huddled in a half hearted attempt to keep out of the rain that was slowly building up to a pouring shower. Muffled cries and moaning and the voice of an old man rang out in the cemetery.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," The old man licked his leathery lips and held tightly onto the small book in his hand. "We gather here on this solemn day to bid farewell to a precious soul. Taken from us all too soon a time, we remember her as she was in life; a well rounded student with so much promise and enthusiasm for life, an avid reader, and a compassionate human being. She was our daughter, cousin, niece, and friend. We praise our Lord Jesus Christ that he may watch over us in our time of grief and bless dear Madelyn wherever she lay."

A pause.

Looking up, the priest focused his eyes on a couple standing just to his side. The man's face was hard, but despite his obvious efforts to be strong, tears streamed down his face behind thin wire framed glasses and he wrapped a long arm around his wife who was muffling her cries behind a white tissue that was quickly turning into shreds as she clutched her husband's coat lapel with a trembling hand.

A long wooden casket was the center piece of their gathering, all eyes focused solely on its dark varnish and silver handles; Lavender, Roses, baby's breath, and various other flowers covered the top in a decorative bouquet, black ribbons stringing the collection together as if reminding the very petals of their purpose.

The priest began speaking again, his drawl voice melting into the sound of the soft rain. Finally the old man stepped to the side and bent down to retrieve a small handful of dirt where he threw the earth into the grave as the casket was slowly lowered.

Mrs. Gates wailed and sobbed into her husband's lapel at the sight of the empty casket symbolizing her daughter – her baby girl – into the earth. Empty of a cadaver it may have been, but not in memories; photos, books, letters, flowers, and articles of clothing had been delicately collected by family to fill the wooden death bed.

The priest's words hung in the air like mist.

"Ashes to ashes…and dust to dust…"

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When Prowl received the somewhat hectic message from Ratchet that Madelyn was having a second reaction, memories of the first flooded back in an anxiousness wave. Getting up from his desk, he circled around and left his office, taking up a brisk pace down the corridor towards Prime's office.

Momentarily forgetting the formalities Prowl normally took up with the Autobot Commander in a very uncharacteristic way, the resident tactician simply marched straight into the commander's office. Silhouetted against the hall lights, Prowl stood in the door threshold, staring into the large space that was Optimus's personal quarters. A recharge berth was neatly placed in the far back next to an Energon dispenser and a computer. The main feature of the room however, was the slightly elevated dais that supported an impressive display of technology. Haloing a swivel chair of sorts were three large monitors and numerous holo-emitted screens currently displaying the various reports from the mobile Autobot fleet, most of which were on their way to Ugai. Optimus Prime sat quietly in the chair, his back to the door.

At the sound of the door opening, Optimus Prime's head snapped up from the data pad he had been engrossed in at the interruption and turned the chair around to view his visitor. Giving his second a questioning stare, Optimus sat the data pad down onto the nearest flat surface, remaining quiet all the while giving Prowl full permission to state his business without waiting for an invitation to do so.

"Madelyn's having another reaction, sir" was Prowl's reply to Optimus's curious optics.

Optimus's shoulder stiffened and he sat up a little straighter. "Do we have any confirmation on who is the one who had shed their piece?"

"No official confirmation as of yet, sir," Prowl replied. "But we know through simple deductive reasoning and elimination it to be Groove. Ratchet informed me that Daiga entered the medbay barely a breem after Madelyn began her episode, but no shard in hand. I have informed Blaster of the situation and he's hailing the Valladus as we speak."

Optimus nodded, looking down with dim optics as a hand reach over and he stroked his chin contemplatively. After a thoughtful moment he looked back up.

"How is Madelyn?"

"From Ratchet's report," Prowl replied. "The nature of the reaction seems to more subdued then that of the previous. He has her under intense observation and continuously running varying scans in an attempt to gain a better understanding of just why Madelyn reacts this way when a shard is estranged from its host. He believes this to be a natural process rather then synthetic. Zandrex's testimony seems to strengthen his assumptions though no definite conclusions can be drawn at present time."

Optimus nodded again. "Please keep me updated on the situation and when Blaster's hails are answered, have the connection sent to my server. I wish to converse with Ultra Magnus about something…"

"Yes sir," Prowl's upper body tilted forward in slight bow before the tactician turned to take his leave.

"And Prowl?" Optimus called back. When the black and white Mech turned, Optimus continued. "Have Ironhide bring Zandrex to the Medbay. If anything goes wrong, he'll be the one to recognize it."

Prowl's wing panels shifted irately. "But Optimus sir, I-"

"He is the closest thing we have to expert in these affairs," Optimus said sternly. "I won't have the girl damaged because of someone's ego or pride. Do not misinterpret my motives, Prowl. Zandrex is still considered a prisoner in my optics; make sure he is secured at all times while in the Medbay. He's far too unpredictable for us to make even the smallest of assumptions."

"It will be done," Prowl took his commander's explanation with a grain of salt and, again, giving a slight bow before taking his leave.

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As consciousness split away, Madelyn became aware of the familiarity of her surroundings. She felt the heaviness pressing against her chest and she gasped, trying to force air into her lungs that wouldn't come…that did not exist. She felt a desperate sense of urgency as she suddenly wished she could simply break free of the constriction, breaking it like glass. She could even imagine the broke pieces falling away from her like the shards of a broken window.

It was cold. She hated the cold, she hated this place, she hated it.

The darkness again…like before. Her hands gripped at her sides in hopes of finding some form of warmth somewhere, even if it only came from her own body.

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Sitting quietly in his seat, Groove rubbed his head gently, gazing into the glowing piece of…something in his hand. It was all beyond him. He couldn't fathom it.

After he had blacked out, he found himself to be in a strange place unlike anything he'd ever dreamed of. None of his systems worked; there was no energy readings or any type of measurable…anything to this new place. If that was anything to go by, it didn't exist. It could have been all in his mind. He could have very well made it up…and yet he knew it was real. Something deep down was telling him so.

His movements were restricted and it took all effort in body and mind to simply lift his head.

Gazing around him he saw Daiga and Madelyn…but something was wrong. While Daiga looked as though he had simply been knocked offline, Madelyn looked…wrong. Her eyes were shot wide, but there was no color to them, they had turned white. Her hands were clenched at her sides and her shoulder shifted and twitched as if she were trying to wiggle free of whatever made movement so difficult.

But what concerned him most was not her expression or posture, but what was behind her. There was a strange presence…no- presences. There were two.

A soft red glow hovered just above her right shoulder, its red body nuzzling her cheek. Even from the distance he was, Groove could feel the warmth resonating from the sphere. The welcomed warmth suddenly disappeared, giving way to an icy chill so deep Groove's internal thermostat gave an involuntary shiver. And then a piercing blue light appeared and seemed to swallow the red one. Blue threads of lights sprang forth from the body and wrapped themselves around Madelyn's form like constricting fingers.

He tried to call out to her, but there was no sound and again his movement was restricted.

And then The Voice came. It said things to him, comforting and warm, and cautious. The Voice spoke of some sort of disaster…and that the Fourth was in danger.

And then…he woke up.

The Fourth – Madelyn.

He almost sighed. When was she not in danger? It almost seemed cruel to him how she seemed to always ending up the target. There were four keys, for Primus' sake and they didn't seem to be nearly as sought after as Madelyn was. Perhaps, however, that was due to her origins. To a Decepticon's logic, capturing a small organic child would be less of a hassle then a fully operational Mech who had been trained to the back rotors on how to take you apart.

Both Daiga and he had fairly easy goings as Keys when compared to Madelyn and even further when compared to Zandrex. The poor guy; despite his past misdeeds, no one could arguably say they guy didn't deserve some slack being one of only a few surviving Yasurrians. With his planet, people, culture, everything destroyed. It made Groove less melancholy about his own home; sure Cybertron was not under their control, but at least it was still there.

Groove wished he could in some small way carry a burden with them, if only to make him feel like he was doing his share; which he definitively felt he wasn't. Even Daiga was in some small way doing his share, being one of the Mechs caring for Madelyn. After all that had happened, he felt his role as a key was very…anticlimactic. He felt disappointed…and angry.

"Readying to dock with the Gigas Marta," Rimshot's voice broke Groove out of his thoughts and looking up, he gazed out the port bay window to see the opening of the Gigas Marta's docking bay. At the feeling of a hand on his shoulder, Groove looked to his side and saw Ultra Magnus standing there.

The Autobot regarded his second in commander seriously for a moment. "Are you alright?"

"Fine, sir," Groove lied, the memory of his dream and The Voice's words haunting him. Glaring down at the glowing shard of power cupped in his hands he shifted his shoulders. "I'll feel even better once we get this to Maddie. From what Daiga told me, she's in a right pitiful state. Poor kid."

Magnus nodded, excepting his words, but Groove had the innate impression that Ultra Magnus knew how he really felt about the whole situation. As soon as the docking sequence was complete, everyone began to rise from their seats to make their way onto the larger ship. Mindful of his precious cargo, Groove stood and followed his comrades out the air lock and into the Gigas Marta's docking bay.

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Madelyn shivered mentally at being in that place again. One time was enough as she did not want to experience it for a second time. Unfortunately she did not seem to have any choice in the matter as she floated seemingly endlessly in a form of unconsciousness completely beyond her ability to comprehend. She strained to raise her head, the strange molasses like air around her causing any movements to slow down to an almost comical pace.

Across from her she saw the bronze armored Mech that was Daiga. His head was bowed, resting against his chest, and his optics were dark.

To her left was an empty void where Zandrex had once been. She felt a vague hopefulness…

To her right she was surprised to see that there was a similar void to that of her left, the previously resident Mech suddenly having become MIA.

Groove was gone.

Before she could even begin to ponder the implications of his absence, Madelyn's mind suddenly screamed out as the coldness suddenly intensified, becoming painful and bitter like frost bite. A new consciousness pounced onto her and icy fingers, large and sharp laced themselves around her small form. She could feel the stark vision of their owner glaring into her back.

'Such a little thing…' The Voice said. No-not The Voice – not her Voice…another one; cold and smooth, cruel. 'So weak in body and mind…'

Madelyn felt herself freeze in its vice like grip. She could barely feel herself anymore.

'Poor insignificant little girl,' the Cold Voice hissed in her ear. 'Everyone you ever cared for on that mudball of a pit you call home, believes you to be dead. They've moved on…without you. Poor little thing…no one cares for the weak. Easily discarded and even more easily forgotten…'

The grip tightened and Madelyn whimpered pain.

'Oh! I'm sorry,' the Cold Voice snickered cruelly. 'I forget how fragile organic minds are. Doesn't take much, just one little squeeze…'

The sharp tips pierced her arms causing her to jerk and cry out.

'…and they shatter like flawed metal.' The Cold Voice continued with the sneer in its voice blatantly audible.

"Stop!" Madelyn cried. "Stop it! Please!"

The Cold Voice laughed; it was a cruel harsh sound that grinded painfully in her head. 'Never,' it replied with a hiss. 'Zandrex may have been able to rid himself of my influence, but I will never let you go. Such a raw and venerable mind; you will be of great use little one…oh yes, great use indeed.'

Madelyn cried out again as the cold chilled her down deep inside, turning into a burning pain that only slowly intensified.

"Let me go!" Madelyn screamed back, wishing she could simply turn around and bite him. "If you think I'm going to sit back and give you an all access pass, you're way wrong jackass!"

'You've not a choice in the matter!' snapped the Cold Voice. 'You haven't the ability to deny me or even begin to fight. You will help me bring ruin upon my so called successor and return the Artifact to its rightful place where I will once again rise! The Artifact belongs to the Decepticon Empire! Cybertron, the universe, and all that is existence belong to me!'

Icy claws dug into her and indescribable pain ripped into her and she screamed and thrashed as much as she could, but to no avail.

'Gigatron will live again!'

((((((((((((((((((((((( Author's Notes Continued ))))))))))))

Confused yet? Good. You will be for a while yet. lol.

Did I throw some of ya? Good.

Don't feel too bad for Madelyn though. As I said to one reviewer, she get's her moment. Several infact. And in a big way.