There was not a time that either could remember when the other did not exist. And for that short time, they had been together.

One shining.

One reflecting.

One reaching for the light of the golden sun– the light that made his golden coat glimmer like the sun itself.

The other reaching for the deep red of the moons in shadow, where he could hide the deep scarlet of his own coloring.

They had been created together as two, and yet, their minds– their very cores were forged as one.

From the earliest days, there had been fights about petty things; which had come online first, which one was the brighter of the pair. Petty things, that never interfered with the purpose with which their creator had instilled in them from the time before their bodies were formed.

Both of them were created for battle.

Kaon Arena 15: Millions of years ago

:

The nearby stars were high and bright in mid-cycle. The crowds placed their bets, cheered, and rose in their seats as the current favorites entered from the low slung doors to the underground habitats where the gladiators lived.

Of course, the current favored competitors had to take a bow– then show off a few moves here and there. As slaves, this was the only moment of freedom that they really had to express themselves in public. The airborne forms rose, nearly to the force-barrier over the top of the stadium, and crossed each other, in one of the narrow misses that could make a crowd ooh and ahh.

At a signal, the latest opponents for these favored slaves of Kaon were released. And the crowd turned. No cheering. Only the occasional jeer of disapproval as the land-bound red and yellow figures entered the arena. No uncertainty in their step. No fear on their faces. Neither seemed to notice the crowd.

Actually, they seemed to arguing.

"Won't work, you dim-volt."The words echoed up from the arena on the sound-system that had been especially enhanced to hear every cry and scream of plasma on metal. "It's impossible to pull off."

"You got a better plan, ya slaggin' day-glo ornamental piece of scrap?" The pair seemed oblivious to the fact that their voices were now echoing through the arena. "Or are you just gonna start praying now?"

"Maybe." the answer echoed from the speakers.

As though answering a silent signal, the oddly shaped jets started to make their first attack run. It just wasn't seemly that these newcomers to this arena weren't even paying attention to the fact that they were about to be fighting for their lives. As the first jet banked around, and started to fire at the pair, the argument seemed to escalate– and the red one shoved the yellow one. Hard.

The first laser-bursts scorched the ground where the gold mech had been standing.

It seemed to get their attention, and the ground-bound mechs began to shoot back. However, it didn't stop the argument. The tone of the argument barely changed as they began to prove how the team of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had managed to get to this arena.

"He's on your left." Sunstreaker called over the roar of a jet engine, and the growling disapproval of the audience.

"Right. And you've got one on your tail." Sideswipe spun hard right, and took a shot at one of their opponents.

"LEFT, micro-processor." The scorn dripped from Sunstreaker's tone, as he continued to dance between laser-bolts.

"I've got it already. Jump."

"Jump?"

"You use your leg servo motors to propel yourself into the air," Sideswipe told him. "Dumb-aft."

"Why?"

"Just do it. Now."

The yellow mech braced, and jumped. And suddenly found himself sitting atop of one of their opponent's jet forms.

"You know, you could've just told me he was comin' in for that."

"Where would be the fun in that, Sunshine?" Sideswipe grinned, as he ignited the previously unused jet-pack, and before the other jet realized it, took up a similar position on his back as well.

"Now what?" yelled Sunstreaker, hanging on tightly as his ride tried to barrel roll to dislodge him.

Sideswipe's ride decided to try and help his fellow by shooting at the mech on his back– only to find his shots going astray as the red mech started shifting his weight to throw off the balance.

"Get off! Get off!" Those in the audience who had bet on the champions were booing. Those who had not... some of them were actually cheering the brightly colored duo on. And one voice in particular, that should have been cheering– was actually silent.

"Let's see what these guys are made of!" Sideswipe cheerfully called, and, as Sunstreaker and his mount passed by, shifted suddenly, sending the nose of his jet into the left wing of the other jet. There was a wrenching sound of metal rending metal. And the now interlocked jets began to lose altitude. Fast.

Too late, Sideswipe noticed how high up they'd climbed. And how little fuel his jet-pack had left in it. He made a jump for Sunstreaker, knocking his brother off, and trying to slow their decent with the remaining fuel.

"Told you it wouldn't work." was the only comment that the spectators heard from Sunstreaker before the jets hit the ground with a loud crash. Bad luck continued, as fuel ran out. "Next time get parachutes."

And then they hit the ground.

Technically, the twins won the bout.

Technically.

That didn't change the fact that Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had managed to knock themselves offline shortly after their opponents. Sideswipe did hang on to consciousness a little longer than the rest, managing to stand up, and take a staggering bow in the sudden shocked silence of the stadium. Then fell over on top of one of the mangled jets.

The next things Sideswipe remembered after the tottering bow in Arena 15 were like a disjointed hazy dream.

In the disembodied way, that signaled low energy levels, Sideswipe was standing– though he did not recall moving– and he couldn't quite judge how long he'd been at this new place, that he recognized as the gates to the main market of Kaon. He could see the main road through the city from his vantage point, although he couldn't move to confirm anything– not even the shouts that sometimes sounded like his name from somewhere behind him.

Through the fog, he somehow realized that the voice was Sunstreaker's, and that his brother was nearby. The reassuring presence managed to quell the vague sense of panic which had started to rise at the realization that, despite the unconventional arena victory, they were being sold.

A few in the crowds of beings that passed through the gates stopped and stared in his direction. Some with a mixture of awe and disgust. Some with disgust, and a hint of fear. But mostly the fear.

Sideswipe was used to the stares of an arena crowd– distant and abstracted. This was.. More personal. In a way, he wanted nothing more than to break out and shake them. Ask them what they thought they were staring at. Anything– but he couldn't do anything other than stand there. Faces started blending together after a while, fading in and out of the dream-like world.

Only four remained distinct. Only four were different, lodging themselves somewhere in the back of his memory.

The first was a white mech, ambling by several times during the eternity that Sideswipe was standing at the gate. Golden optics would gaze in his direction each time with a hint of disgust and compassion. It was the compassion that set this one apart. He usually passed by alone, and when the white mech had a companion, the rich chuckle would announce his presence– and then stop as his gaze fell on the red mech.

The second was a look of shock and again, the compassion, reflected in the commanding blue optics of a large red, white and blue mech, whose face was partially covered by a battle mask. He only passed the gates twice. Once on the way in. Once on the way out.

On the way out, the mech paused, the shock replaced by an indignant anger, as he looked towards Sideswipe. Then he sped on his way towards the main gates of the city.

The third was the gaze of an elegantly styled femme. She usually passed by with an entourage, always stopping to give Sideswipe a long calculating stare that made the numb coldness that had been his companion since he had awakened in the marketplace feel as though he'd just stepped into the absolute zero of space.

She passed by, from as near as he could tell, once a day.

Fourth... wasn't exactly a face. It wasn't exactly a look, either– but it marked the end of the fog, and the beginning of the last day at the gate.

Kaon Market: Early Morning

The pre-dawn market was dark and cold. Sideswipe was too low on energy to even note much more than a bit of frozen vapor had lightened some of the surfaces within his vision. Just like the countless days and hours before, the world, for the moment, was silent and still.

Just like all the other unnumerable days and hours, Sideswipe was wondering in that vaguely foggy way, when this would all end. When could he go back to the arenas, how Sunstreaker was. If Sunny was in the same foggy state of mind. And most importantly, if Sunny was still mad about the 'no parachute' thing.

Someone had been mad.

Sideswipe just couldn't think of who it was right now. Especially since there were voices echoing in his audials.

Voices?

Sideswipe forced himself to concentrate. Which itself was a chore on most normal days.

"...Slowly now," an unfamiliar voice was close by, and yet echoed in his audials as though it were far away. "S'far as I can tell you've been without fer at least a week. Need ta let yer intakes catch up, and start workin' again."

There was a grunt that reminded him of yellow. His brother. And a long silence.

"Who are you?" The tones of suspicion were in the familiar voice. Sunstreaker. That kept Sideswipe's attention.

"What goes around, comes around." the other voice spoke quietly, "Jus' call me Ricochet." There was another grunt from Sunstreaker. "M'boss will have my tail if I get caught, he don't want this public."

"Bro?" Vaguely Sideswipe realized that the voices were below and to the right. Odd.

"Yeah. I'll get t'him next. Sorry I can't do no more than this." A dark shadow in the periphery of his vision moved, and a black mech with orange flame details stepped in front of him. The impression of a blue visor set in a white helm filled his vision, as a crooked frown came close, as though inspecting him.

"I ain't no medic, but this and some fuel should help." The hands were doing something to him, and Sideswipe realized that the fog had receded.

For the first time in a long time, Sideswipe sighed. The pressure he hadn't realized was there, the inhibitor on his vocalizer, was gone.

"That's not much of an improvement." Sunstreaker said.

"Just give 'im a minute or two." A container was brought to his mouth, and slowly, so slowly, the liquid fuel began to replenish his stores.

"You could've left his vocals off. That's how he got the honor of bein' the one stapled to the gatepost." The dreamy state was gone, and the slight ache of inactivity– and awkward positioning– invaded.

"Shut up." Sideswipe mumbled irritably.

"Easy there." The unfamiliar mech stepped away. "I dunno what you did t'deserve this– if anything. I'll never understand this crazy city."

"Genius over there decided t' try an' smart mouth Xaon, when he was still pissed about loosin' a lot of money on us."

"I told him he shouldn't have bet against us!" Sideswipe protested.

"Xaon... your owner? So he smacked the pair of ya around, an' put you on the market?"

"Something like that." Sunstreaker moved, and Sideswipe could hear the sound of force-chains. And a bit of frustration in the voice. "He had a couple of his goons go after bro, and I couldn't just let it go. So we both got knocked around a bit, and he was still mouthing off to Xaon."

"He had it comin'" Sideswipe made a face, and he could see by the brightening light, that Ricochet had almost smiled at it.

"So... your own master bet against his own?"

"That's how it works around here." Sunstreaker said flatly. "Sometimes you win. Sometimes you lose. You didn't know that?"

"I didn't want to lose."

"I'm... not from around here. My boss just asked me t' come and see the city." There was something that Ricochet wasn't saying. Sideswipe knew it, but let it pass. They'd live another day. "And I've got to split outta here– the market's gonna open up, and I don't need t'be caught."

"... yeah. They won't like it if someone's been messing with the merchandise outside of business hours." The shadowy mech picked up the containers that he'd brought with him, and started slipping off into a shadow.

"... thank you–" said Sideswipe– but Ricochet had already vanished.

The Ice Queen and her cubes, as Sideswipe had named the dark femme and her entourage in his head, arrived a few hours later for her usual stare. This time, however, Sideswipe wasn't just going to hang there, and ignore it. Now that the fuzzies were gone from his head, he was more than ready to tell her where she could go.

Stock still, the calculating look pierced him– and even without the foggy mind, Sideswipe still got that cold sensation in his internals. It didn't stop him.

"What do ya think you're starin' at?" he almost spat at her.

Surprise only registered on the delicately sculpted face for a moment– but was quickly replaced by a cold and calculating smile.

"Nice goin' motor mouth." Sunstreaker muttered somewhere out of his vision.

"You've gained a voice, I see." The whispery voice was smooth, as one slender arm gestured to a mech on her left. "Find the one who is selling these, and bring him to me."

The mech looked as though he were about to protest, but hurried off.

"I've had a voice all along, ya cold–"

"For pity's sake, 'Swipe, shut it."

"No, no..." the femme stepped closer, "I was hesitant before, but now..." The violet optics narrowed, as the calculating look returned. "I am most certain."

"Certain about what?" Sideswipe ignored his brother's mutterings.

"Certain that the pair of you will work out very well for my purposes." The purple and black femme gave him another appraising look, and continued on her way to the marketplace.

An hour later, Xaon's guards came to pull Sideswipe down, and drag the pair of them off to their new 'home'. And yank and drag they did. By the time Sideswipe recovered, he was stumbling through their new owner's complex, leaning heavily on a grumbling Sunstreaker.

Antipode Complex

Whatever the thoughts that Sideswipe had entertained about what the femme wanted from him and his brother in the hour or so that they'd been left alone had absolutely no relation to what he actually found himself doing. If anyone had asked him what he'd end up doing in the future, the answer would have inevitably have had something to do with the arenas, something to do with battle.

Nothing to do with scrubbing floors.

And most certainly not painted up in the same blacks and purples as the head of the complex. Sideswipe's only consolation at this point was the sight of Sunstreaker, painted similarly, put to work on cleaning the large windows somewhere above.

Sunstreaker, for his part, kept muttering something about killing Sideswipe– so he was keeping his distance. Though, even Sunstreaker would eventually have to admit– cleaning was better than hanging around in the marketplace by a longshot.

The new owner, for her part, after an initial inspection, had sent them off for repairs and the repaint. Neither had seen her after that– although the others in the complex were only too happy to tell the brothers about Arachnae– the chief of the weapons development and distribution program in Kaon.

She was, one cowed mech told them, working on a deal to supply weapons to a new market in Iacon. In fact, the Iaconian leader had already visited the complex to view Arachnae's products. Of course, the deal would be handled by the Commerce Centre– a third party neutral. And was subsequently preparing to travel to Protihex to finalize the transaction.

All very interesting. To someone else.

Sideswipe could care less. Well. Except about the weapons. Those, he was quite certain, would be something to see. Still, something about the memory of Arachnae's calculating looks told him that she wasn't looking for two new domestic servants to lift heavy objects, and scrub floors.

Precisely three weeks later, it was confirmed, when the dark femme herself stalked into the room where he was dutifully– but boredly– contemplating just how much cleanser it would take to flood the floor to the point where no one could walk through without starting to stick to it.

"You." Kicking over the cleanser container, she pointed up at him. "And the other one– are coming with me. Now."

Surprised, Sideswipe could only follow– and outside, saw Sunstreaker across the grand courtyard, with a bemused look on his face. Finally, they were going to do something. Maybe she'd decided to take up Arena battles, and he and Sunstreaker would be–

"...guards." Arachnae was saying something, and he hadn't been paying attention. Focusing on her, he realized that most of her entourage was missing. "You both have inhibitor chips planted in your circuits, so don't even think of trying to escape while we're there. Got it?"

Sideswipe only nodded in confusion. Going? Trip?

"Bodyguards." Sunstreaker muttered to him, catching the confusion. "On the way to Protihex."

The deal.

"Good. Now stop whispering, and get to the craft. Protihex is waiting for my arrival."

Protihex: Commerce Centre Negotiation Chamber

"... Iacon has decided to decline your services." The large black and white minister told Arachnae almost kindly, "Deepest apologies, Director Arachnae, it was a decision based on conscience, and not on the quality of your products–"

The cold rage on Arachnae's face would have almost frightened Sideswipe, had he been on the receiving end. As it was, Minister Tacheon merely smiled, amber optics steady on the femme. He didn't even seem phased by the two bodyguards that the femme had insisted on bringing inside the negotiation chamber.

The slightly smaller white shadow behind Tacheon, however, seemed a little nervous. And familiar.

"How dare they? After leading me to believe –"

"I'm afraid the answer is final, Director. If you would like, I can open negotiations with another interested party–"

"Who then?" Arachnae snarled.

The amber optics behind Tacheon studied the impromptu bodyguards, while the minister began to explain the details of the other offer on the table. For a white mech, Tacheon's aid knew how to remain in the shadows– if it hadn't been for the familiarity of the gaze, Sideswipe would have missed the pitying look that had flashed across his face.

And then he remembered.

"That offer is acceptable." The firm tones of their owner cut through Sideswipe's rumination, dragging his attention back to the femme. "Let them know that I will deliver as soon as they send payment." Arachnae was rising, "And now, I must get back to my lab."

Antipode Complex Test Chamber: 5000 years later

Stars danced in the edges of Sideswipe's vision, as he swung, hands retracting in favor of the newly installed pile drivers. It didn't matter anymore if he wanted to give up. The drone wasn't going to let him leave the room in one piece.

Not for the first time he wondered if it would have been better just to fade away quietly under the gawking stares of a crowd that feared and despised him– rather than the slow and constant string of testing. Sideswipe wasn't stupid by any means– and even he could see that the tests were getting harder every year. Every time one of them was taken to the testing chamber, in some small way, he hoped it would be the last.

The tests had been simple at first. Arachnae had mostly seemed curious about her new slaves. The day after the long ago trip out of Kaon, they'd been taken to the labs, and scrutinized. Tests of strength, agility, intelligence– gathering the baseline data in preparation for something that made the violet optics of the researcher gleam.

After that, the tests had gotten worse; pain thresholds, sensory deprivation– tests that seemed to have no purpose other than to cause pain.

And then came the modifications.

Sideswipe hadn't seen Sunny after some of the tests for years at a time. There was always the constant reassuring sensation of his brother being somewhere nearby. And somehow, Sideswipe knew that he too was going through similar tests.

The last modification had been a few days ago– the last time Sideswipe had seen his brother. He was nearby– but Sideswipe couldn't take the time to figure out just where at the moment.

Charging the drone with a wordless cry, Sideswipe was slammed across the room by an appendage that felt as though it carried the weight and strength of a planet behind it.

Knowing Arachnae, it probably did.

With a crash, Sideswipe's bulk hit the wall, and he slid to the floor. He was hurting, but he knew from long experience that he was nowhere near the threshold of his endurance. Staring at the floor between his legs, Sideswipe knew he could still get up, could still fight– he just lacked the will to continue the pointless exercise right now.

A sudden wave of fear and anger hit him like a freight train, as two words filled his mind in a familiar voice.

Roll, bro!

Without thinking, he obeyed the voice, and winced as the shards from the wall showered him. The planetary weighted fist of the drone had impacted in the crater that he'd just vacated. If he'd stayed there a moment longer, it could've crushed him beyond salvage.

Keep moving, Sideswipe!

Sunny? Sunny?

The thought struck him suddenly. Sunstreaker was watching, just as Sideswipe himself had been forced to do so many times. Restrained in the lab next door. As he had every time Sideswipe had been sent in this chamber–

Get moving you slow fragging skidplate!

It was as though Sunstreaker were there, and yelling in his audials.

The tentacle-like appendage slammed into him again, as Sideswipe just stood there trying to digest the idea that he could 'hear' Sunstreaker. He was sent in a new direction this time. Towards the ceiling.

Suggestions would be good at this point.

Jets, 'Swipe. If you can get behind it, there's weaker armor there. I can see it, every time the thing moves.

Sideswipe ignited the jets, stabilizing himself before he hit the ceiling, and made a stumbling landing behind the slightly slower moving drone. Pile drivers flipping out and aiming at the slightly more vulnerable back panels of the larger machine.

Now bro! Hit it!

Sideswipe swung in, for the first time in ages feeling the reward of feeling the metal buckle under his blows. The structure started to give way. He wasn't going to be beaten this time. And for the first time in the thousands of years of their possession by Arachnae and her weapons research program, he was about to defeat the biggest and deadliest of her designs. The triumph rolled off of him in waves.

Winnin' at last!

Bro! A startled, almost panicked voice, Look out for the–

A tentacle shot around, a wicked looking blade on its tip. Before Sunstreaker could finish his warning, it stabbed through the armor on Sideswipe's chest as though it were foil.

Sideswipe fell to one knee, yanking at the appendage– trying to get it out of his chest– get it away from the machine.

Swipe–

Threshold of pain.

SWIPE–

The blade came out easier than he'd expected, and with the scream of metal, the tentacle was wrenched off of the drone. Through the staticky black floating in the corner of his vision, he saw the hole that he'd made in the drone's plating, and swung the blade towards it, ignoring the sudden sheering sensation, and the sound of grinding emitting from his chest.

The blade struck true, and a shower of sparks erupted from the drone to add to the sparkles in his visuals. A crash– and Sideswipe realized the drone had just fallen over, deactivated.

Victory.

Sideswipe started to wobble to his feet, and nearly slipped in the puddle at his feet. Looking down, he detatchedly noted the sizable hole in his chest, and the steady stream of liquid coming from it.

SLAGGIT– Bro– I'm coming! Anger. Horror. Pain. Fear.

And Sideswipe could feel nothing except the last. He staggered, systems beginning to lock up.

"Test concluded" The hated voice chimed over the intercom, almost drowned by another metallic crash– and suddenly Sideswipe found himself supported by the familiar presence of his brother.

"'Swipe..."

"H-hey Bro..." He tried to grin. Ain't dead yet... He tried to reassure Sunstreaker, absently noting the marks where it looked as though Sunstreaker had literally ripped through the restraints. Then realized that he had ripped through them.

"Dumb-aft..." Nothing but concern behind the words. And a faint ache echoing through to him. I should've seen it sooner...

"Yeah... let's see you try flying then." Not your fault...

"Enhancement experiment, successful. Mark date. Technicians, move the subjects to the repair station."

Sideswipe wavered.

Bro–

The spinning stars finally tugged him down into the all too familiar well of unconsciousness.

Arena 15: 50 years later

The nearby stars were high and bright in mid-cycle, just as they had been a lifetime ago. And just as it had been those ages ago, the arena was filled to capacity. New cracks showed on the floor, and the shine had been scorched off of the gates to the slave-pens by the millions of battles that had been fought on this playing field.

Essentially, however, it was the same place that Sideswipe remembered.

Except for the audience. This crowd wasn't the same jeering yelling mob, placing last minute bets. There were probably still bets going on– but not with the same enthusiasm and openness that had been so typical before the Decepticons had started filtering into the city. Now most of those sitting in the stadium wore the purple insignia of the Decepticon empire.

From the ground level, it was impossible to see inside the enclosed area where he knew Arachnae was lurking, cold violet optics alight with the same old calculating look, and the new purple symbol emblazoned proudly on her torso.

This will be a test, my dears... for the good of my laboratory, and for the Decepticon empire's approval. So show how well you have been re-made, and remember, the whispery voice had almost purred, what happens if you disobey my will.

And remember they did.

The lights of the arena brightened, as the familiar voice announced the beginning of the exhibition. Their cue.

Obediently they stepped forward to the center of the arena, glinting darkly in the spotlight, insignias newly painted on their chests. Without sound, they stopped in the center, as Arachnae had instructed them. And there was silence.

Sideswipe could hear the rasp and grind of metal as his brother's fist clenched, and through the shared link, he could feel the hatred rolling off of Sunstreaker in waves. He could feel the deep scowl that he knew was echoed on his own face, as he knew Sunstreaker could feel the rage simmering in his own mind.

Round One.

The murmur of an announcement barely penetrated, as Sideswipe let his gaze search the crowd, memorizing the nods of approval, and the sneers of superiority. And the curious frown of a blue visor somewhere in the middle.

Ricochet?

Sunstreaker barely acknowledged the thought sent to him, as the gates on the opposite side of the arena rose, and their opponents strode in.

There were, Sideswipe noted, only five of them.

With the enhancements that Arachnae had made to their armor, and to their bodies– a few of the standard combatant models wouldn't stand much of a chance against them.

Who was he kidding? They wouldn't stand any chance.

Giving Sunstreaker a tense nod, they waited for the unknowing quintet to close in. This wouldn't take long at all.

Twenty minutes of grinding metal, and shrieks of pain later, Sideswipe found that he was absolutely right.

A tone from above caught their attention, and Sunstreaker dropped the dismembered arm that he'd been wielding, with a sick dull crash. Sideswipe retracted the pile drivers, and stepped away from the last of the opponents to fall.

Round Two.

Sideswipe looked up towards the audience, as the tone continued for another minute, and then stopped. A sudden burst of apprehension was shot his way, as the sound of the gates opening a second time reached his audials. He turned slowly, watching as five more mechs entered the amphitheater, each in the distinctive black and purple of Arachnae's house.

Each with the Decepticon emblem clearly visible.

""Descent, Cacophony, Spitfire, Singularity, and... Checkmate." The whispery cold voice announced, "Separately, they are strong– tempered and strengthened by the advancements produced by my lab."

A point. There had to be a point. They weren't the only turbo-rats in Arachnae's little hole in the wall. And even if they were all outfitted like himself and his brother, Sideswipe knew there was still a chance– after all, they'd survived this long.

"Separately they function as an elite unit. Together..." The unmistakable note of cold pride entered the voice, as the new grouping moved to the center– as the brothers had. Another of Arachnae's mechanations. "Together, they will be unstoppable."

The five stopped in the center, and began to transform– but not in any way that any of spectators had ever seen before. Not by a longshot.

Apprehension grew, as the five separate beings became one– larger than the normal drones that Arachnae had regularly set them against.

"Through trials, and through research, we have found a way to make their minds into one." The femme explained, to those watching. "Together, they are Havok." The large combined form growled menacingly, and stepped forwards, crushing one of the bodies lying closer to it with an ominous crunch.

"Havok, it is time to show your strength. Kill the two monsters within the ring."

Monsters. Sideswipe didn't have to look around to figure out whom Arachnae was referring to. The only active beings in the area were himself, and...

Got to get moving bro–

The real monster in the arena was starting to move now. A little slower than he'd expected, but still fast enough to make staying ahead a challenge. Sideswipe started moving along one side of the arena, movements mirrored by Sunstreaker on the other. They were two. Havok was one. He'd have to choose a target to concentrate on.

There was a rousing cheer from the Decepticon elements in the audience, as the combined mind, without hesitation, shot a pair of missiles from his wrists. At both of them.

Something struck Sideswipe, denting the plating along his left leg. The missile had missed him– barely– and struck the wall separating them from the st ands. A chunk of it had fallen away. The impact with his leg sent him sprawling.

Still here, 'Swipe.

The reassuring touch gave him all the incentive he needed to spring to his feet before the giant's hand impacted with the ground where he'd fallen. Sunstreaker had managed to escape the missile as well– with minor scratches. Now Sideswipe just had to concern himself with getting away from the sudden attention that Havok was paying to him. He zagged, escaping a close encounter with the foot that was coming his way.

A sense of surprise and smug satisfaction suddenly emanated along the link.

Sunny? Sideswipe couldn't see his brother, but knew he was somewhere close by.

Just keep moving and distract him–

Whatever you're doin' hurry up. Sideswipe felt the rush of atmosphere as the giant foot started to fall in his direction. Dodge. Roll. Come up running. Ignore the humming sound of laserfire.

Laserfire?

There was an outraged roar from behind him, and Sideswipe risked a look backwards. Then tripped, as he caught a glimpse of Sunstreaker through the giant's legs. He was standing a short distance behind Havok with an ancient looking laser-pistol in his hands.

Sunny?

The monster turned, a whole lot faster than either of them had thought possible, and sent

a sharp kick in Sunstreaker's direction. There was no chance for either of them to react, as the side of Havok's foot caught Sunstreaker squarely. A flash of pain surged along the link, as Sideswipe watched his brother's body flying up– and striking the electrified shield around the enclosure where Arachnae was probably watching with the usual strange cold look on her face.

Sideswipe didn't even have time to register the smoke rising from the back of the monster, where Sunstreaker's shot had hit square, before the creature was spinning again. Before he could even send a thought his brother's way, Havok had snatched him from where he was still gaping– and threw him in the opposite direction.

Landing didn't hurt nearly as much as he'd expected it to. Probably because there were a few mechs who were a little too slow to move out of the way.

Sideswipe immediately leaped to his feet, and looked for Sunstreaker.

Bro? Are you okay?

No answer. But there was a reassuring sense of his presence– on the other side of the arena. They were no longer in the box, and Havok couldn't get at them here. Sideswipe ignored the snarling of the Decepticon crowd, and started pushing his way around– hard. Most of those in the stands were pushing back, trying to herd him towards the wall, so they could push him back over.

He wasn't having any of that. Sideswipe changed one hand to pile driver, and began to strike back, not caring who or where he struck, as long as he could get through to Sunny. In a vague way, he realized that Sunstreaker was doing similar– heading for him through the sea of spectators utterly unprepared for the simmering rage of the separated twins.

The narrow focus of combat was suddenly jerked away, as he swung the driver hand towards the face of one of those sporting the Decepticon emblem. Sideswipe had forgotten, for a moment, about Arachnae.

Remember, the memory of the whispery voice entered his mind again, what happens if you disobey my will.

To those around him, it must have looked as though Sideswipe had suddenly hit a wall. Instead of swinging, his arms went up, and curled around his head, as he bellowed, falling to his knees. Arachnae's control circuits had been activated, and a sensation of pure agonizing fire raced along every neural pathway.

Threshold.

The world started to turn dark.

Sideswipe!

He couldn't respond.

SIDESWIPE!

A small measure of the burning decreased, and Sideswipe could almost see the figures surrounding him. Surprisingly, none of them had started to try and toss him over the wall again. Maybe it was because of the figure looming over him. Distantly, he recognized Sunstreaker brandishing that old gun, and keeping the few remaining Decepticons at bay.

Or maybe it was the other shadow that seemed to be falling over the entire section. Havok. The combiner seemed to have realized that he had failed to kill them by throwing them, and was now trying to get over the wall, and at them. To put it in perspective, being crushed by a giant hand would probably be a lot less painful right now.

Hang on, Sideswipe. This is gonna hurt.

What's going to hurt? Sideswipe could barely form the thought. Like this doesn't?

Vaguely Sideswipe saw Sunstreaker's free arm move towards him, felt the tug as his brother yanked his arm away from his head, and then an explosion of pain in the back of his head, that eclipsed the circuit wrenching agony.

By the time his head stopped feeling like it was about to fall off, he realized two things. First: They were no longer in the arena. Sideswipe found that he had one arm draped over Sunstreaker's shoulders, and his feet were automatically tracking, as they hurried along some dark-lit street.

Second was that Sunny seemed to be talking to someone that Sideswipe couldn't see. Raising his head, he also realized that the fire was gone.

"'Bout time you snapped out of it." Sunstreaker grumbled at him. The leash is gone– couldn't wait for your systems to readjust.

"Unh." Sideswipe was looking around at the street. It was, he realized, one he'd seen before. But from a slightly different perspective. "Where are we goin'?" And who were you talking to? Ricochet?"We're not being followed, are we?"

Not Ricochet. Sunstreaker shook his head, and Sideswipe's arm off of his shoulders, forcing him to start walking on his own. "Arena crowd's kinda busy with Havok." he said aloud, "We're leavin' the city."

Leaving the city. Never again to be bought or sold– or used.

"Come on," The unfamiliar voice was soft, and surprisingly feminine. "The others will have made the gate by now– I've got to get you there before the patrol finds them."

Surprised, Sideswipe could only stare as the slenderly built black and gold femme melted out of the shadows. Alarmingly, she wore a Decepticon emblem.

"We're right behind you. Now that short-shift here can walk on his own, we can get going a little faster." She said to call her 'Dice'.

"Good." Dice nodded, and blended back into the shadows.

She's an Autobot agent– Some of their own were captured, and being sold in the market here. Dice helped a group of them get in and break them out while everyone was watching us in the Arena.

Why is she helping us?

All she'd tell me is that she owed someone a favor.

The gates to the city were within sight. One force shield was down, and a figure waited just outside– and Dice remained in the shadows.

"Go with them. Optimus Prime and the others will help you." The soft voice told them. "I must return, or someone will start to suspect me."

"Thank you–" Sideswipe said, but suspected that the femme was already gone.

Battered in body and mind, the brothers stepped through the gate together, to join the Autobots waiting for them just outside the city.

With one last step, they were free.

South Central Oregon: 2000 CE

The Pacific northwest could never stay sunny for a long period of time. Today wasn't going to be one of those rare occasions that the entire day remained bright. While Sideswipe had talked, the clouds had gathered, and a few drops of water started to fall onto the pair in the field. But by the time his story had ended, the sun had come out again.

"First thing we did, once we got outta there was get our paint right." Sideswipe said, "Optimus was pretty nice about that. Said he'd seen us before Arachnae got hold of us, and that getting rid of her colors might help it feel more real to be free." The red mech smiled, "He was right."

"Did you ever find out what happened to Ricochet?" Rewind said, after a moment. "Or why he was at the Arena?"

"Never found out why he was there..." Sideswipe's smile went away slowly, and he kicked a small pile of pebbles, scattering them across the field. "But he was an agent. Ops told us that the Decepticons caught him, and killed him a few years before we left Cybertron. We never saw him again."

The silence had grown awkward again. Fortunately Rewind could hear the soft purr of an engine, and spied a flash of white heading their way. Unless he was mistaken, it was one of the medics, followed by someone who could get Sideswipe back to base.

"Dice was probably doing a favor for Ricochet then?" he asked.

"Might never know. It's been a long time. And we never saw her again."

The Ark's Bridge

Patience, Laserbeak knew, was considered a virtue.

And each passing hour that he spent atop Teletran One's main screen was one more hour in which his patience was to be tested. Laserbeak could see that Blaster was not going to be leaving any time soon. The red Autobot seemed to have, if anything, planted himself more firmly in front of the com-station, monitoring the local frequencies for a spot some miles distant.

All the Decepticon needed was five minutes.

The waiting game, it seemed, would continue.

In Orbit

To say that Soundwave was not pleased, would have been one of the understatements of the day. After briefly seeing to the pair of seejers that he had retrieved, he had stalked to the console in order to track the third.

What he found was the cause of the visible tic in his face-mask, rather than the low-processing powered stunt that the trio had attempted. The attempted raid merely annoyed Soundwave. The loss of signal from Thundercracker's locator disturbed him.

The idea that the Autobots might get there first, and retrieve the seeker was what was angering him. That could not happen. As unimportant as the life of one mere soldier was to the mission, Soundwave could not let that happen.

Cycling the computer, he prepared the airlock for departure once more.

"When you have finished straightening your wings," he intoned over the radio to the pair in the minuscule repair bay, "Follow me to the coordinates on the main screen. You can help me carry Thundercracker back to base." The door cycled, and Soundwave departed once more.