CHAPTER 53

"Get up"

As soon as he turned lights on, white light almost got them blinded. Jetstorm let out a moan of pain. Chains at his ankles caused pangs in his members. That unpleasant sensation prevented him to move. He couldn't even fall into recharge. As soon as he tried, pain brought him back to the harsh reality.

The place was narrow. As soon as he held his arms out, he was found himself enclosed by walls around him. Walls, a metallic ground…bars in front of him…

A cage.

They opened it. A servo reached inside, putting a cube of energon at his pedes.

"…Please…"

"Did you recharge well today?"

The servo reached out to him, gently petting his helm. Jetstorm didn't dare move. He didn't even move. He didn't even speak, out of fear of angering them.

Out of fear of getting beaten…

The servo pulled away before closing the cage again.

"…Please…"

A few instants afterward, the cage was closed in a cold metallic 'clic'. Jetstorm growled out in pain, chains stopping him from moving ahead. Yet he was starving right now. His reserves were low.

He'd to feed himself.

In the end, his servos shaking, he grabbed the cube. He put it at his lips too quickly and poured the half of the content all around him. Jetstorm teared up. Yet he kept drinking.

Slipstream, he thought.

Where was he? He was certainly here…they'd got captured together…

But…Bars reduced his sight. He couldn't get any access to outside. He couldn't see his surroundings. His only bond with the outside was that servo who brought him cubes and petted him.

A strong, firm servo…without any affection…

Exactly like Shadow Raker.

He heard a slamming door. Was he gone?

He didn't know. His digits tightened on the cube, now empty.

He was still hungry…

He wanted to see Slipstream…

He wanted to see Mister Drift…

Where were they?

"…I want to leave…"

Let me get back at home…

But what was this place called home?

Before, his home had been at Shadow Raker's…then it had been the Circle of Light…

And now…

"…Please…"

No one answered. Only silence welcomed him. Was he alone?

No. There must be other people like him, in such a situation…people locked up in here, captured and taken against their will. Away from their home.

I did nothing to you, he thought. Why can't it stop?

Finally, a voice rose up.

"…It's useless to resist. We're stuck here"

An unknown yet feminine voice. Jetstorm cowered. He couldn't see his interlocutor. But the voice came out from the left side of the cage.

Did he have a neighbour?

"…Why? What will he do to us?"

Silence again.

"…We are Minicons. These things are normal to us."

Her tone sounded exhausted. Deep inside, Jetstorm wondered how long had she been trapped in here. Definitely longer than he did. But it didn't give him any answer.

You're properties, Shadow Raker had repeated. Only tools.

"…No."

"Any Minicon found is brought here. Soon, someone will come to get us."

"What for?" Jetstorm cried out.

He didn't want to know. His neighbour sounded way and way more tired.

"…You'll get a new Deployer. Just like for any of us. A new Master."

"But I already have a Master!" He immediately answered.

Mister Drift…had just accepted to become their Deployer.

His and Slipstream's Master.

"…He isn't your Master anymore. Here, there are Minicons who'd lost their owner."

"Lies! Mister Drift is—"

"…Mister Drift isn't here. Just like my Master isn't here either"

There was a hint of sadness in her tone.

"It's unfair!"

"We are Minicons. We're just viewed as such by society. And nothing will change."

She didn't speak anymore.

Someone will get him…to put him under the service of another bot? A bot that he didn't even know? A stranger?

But…Minicons were the ones who accepted to work for somebody else. The reverse wasn't true. The Master asks, Minicons accept. It had always been this way.

No. That place wasn't legal, whatever their place in society was.

This kind of things couldn't be legal!

"…Please…"

Another Master…Another Deployer…another life…

But it would mean being separated from Slipstream…his partner who'd always been there for him. The one who'd always supported him.

And he would be apart from Mister Drift as well…the one who'd saved him from Shadow Raker many times…while he could have just left them and escape from the domain. While he could have remained at the Circle of Light…along with Wing.

"Please…" He repeated.

He grabbed the bars.

Slipstream…

Mister Drift…

Somebody…

"PLEASE!"

Let me go…

Let me go…

Let me go…

I can't take it anymore.

Jetstorm gave up.

Many days passed. In prison, little to no things changed. Daily routine was the same for every prisoner. They woke up at the sunrise, one cube, chores, shower, one hour to rest, another cube and prisoners were locked up in their cell for the rest of the night. Drift got used to it out of automatism.

He'd submitted himself to it without even believing it. It didn't matter anymore. The orange bot accomplished his chores as he was asked to, tried not to draw any attention from other cellmates or guards. He didn't plan to do anything else. He didn't plan to be well-viewed. He didn't even try to follow any Fracture's plans. The purple bot had even stopped to talk to him. They just interacted at awakening and at lights out. Although the purple bot had repeated how interesting Drift was at their first meetings, now he'd got bored of him.

Yes. Maybe. Boring. But it didn't matter to the orange bot. He didn't care about his cellmate's opinion.

Everything that mattered was the prison now. Prison, society…

As if Drift was under water…

He was locked up in here, and he would never get out of it.

As he was eating at the canteen, he caught sight of guards passing in the halls, leading Decepticon prisoners to an unknown destination. Around him, prisoners whispered.

"A trial?"

"That's his day?"

"Terrorism, murder…he'll not make it"

Yes.

Upon his arrival, Drift had heard about the procedure. A trial yet to come. He didn't know which day would be his, who would judge him, what would happen to him…at this moment, Drift hadn't cared about it. He'd thought that he would find Jetstorm and Slipstream in time, and together, they would have left the prison.

They would have got out of here together.

That's what he'd thought…until Fracture reminded him of the harsh reality.

He'd stopped searching for them.

Minicons were resold. Or destroyed.

No one knew where they were. No one would help him.

So, why keeping on?

He didn't finish his cube. He wasn't hungry. He'd never been hungry actually. He threw cubes off without even touching them, which seemingly got guards irritated since rations were low during war times. While he was leaving the canteen, someone crashed into his shoulderplate. Drift didn't turn around. He'd already guessed who it was. The bot who'd assaulted him in the wash-racks. This latter came closer to him, holding him accountable.

Drift stared back at him, his optics empty. The bot immediately stopped and looked at him, completely astonished.

"Can't…Can't you be more careful?" he stammered.

You have to prove yourself.

At first, it had been his goal. While taking time to find Minicons…but today…

Now, it felt like something in him had just…vanished.

Drift didn't react. He just turned around and kept walking.

He half-heartedly thought about Wing's message that he would have sent him today…just as for any other day.

He was probably worried. After all, Drift hadn't answered back.

Yet Drift wanted to answer back. He wanted to call him, to tell him what'd happened. His capture in prison, the loss of Minicons…

He wanted to ask for some help.

Help me, get me out of here…I need you.

Wing would come to his rescue. His mentor wouldn't abandon him.

But Drift had abandoned him. For his sake…though it remained abandonment. Then, he wasn't sure if Wing could do anything. If he could get him out of here and finding Jetstorm and Slipstream.

Drift regretted it.

He stared up at the ceiling, laying down on his berth.

He didn't feel anything. Even not sadness. Not even anger. Just…tiredness. Resignation. A feeling that emptied him dry.

He was just a machine, after all.

He shut out his optics.

"Hey! Are you waking up?"

Drift reopened his optics. He noticed a guard leaning over him, blue optics staring at him with concern. He knew him. He'd been the one who'd accompanied him the first day. One of the most sympathetic guards. The orange bot looked away. He didn't feel awkward. He just wanted to sleep…

"…Don't you want to eat?" The guard questioned him.

"I'm not hungry"

"You barely ate, these last times"

"How would you know?"

The guard paused.

"…Your cellmate told me about this"

"How kind of him" Drift let out a sigh, sarcastic.

He didn't care. If Fracture wanted to escape, he would just find another sucker. Drift sat up.

"You don't look alright. We can call a medic if you need it"

Drift's reply was immediate.

"I don't need any medic"

Drift cowered, burying his face into his pillow.

"…I just want you to let me sleep"

"But…"

"Sleeping. That's all I desire" He repeated.

His tone didn't have any emotion in. He didn't care.

"…That kind of speech isn't good" The guard noticed.

"Why do you care? You are not the one locked up in here."

"It's not—"

"I had no choice"

Why was he talking with him? He was an Autobot. An enemy, who was probably having fun by granting Drift a false mercy.

"…If I did this, that's all to protect them. That's all to survive. Nothing more"

Whatever their motives…a crime remained a crime.

The guard stood up. He didn't have anything left to say.

"I'll order other guards to bring you a cube"

"Don't bother. I don't want anything"

"You must eat"

"I don't want to eat anymore"

He'd enough. He didn't want to struggle to survive anymore.

He didn't want to fight anymore.

Whatever he did…it would always backfire at him.

The guard didn't answer. Drift just heard doors shutting out behind him.