Things were better the next time he woke… the next orn, maybe? There was no real way to measure time. He had an internal timepiece, but it had been reset recently. Twenty-two orns ago… he was reasonably certain that he had been alive longer than that.

This time he understood the blue mech's call to get up and go to work. This time he understood the muttered 'thank you's and the words between the swearing. This time no one bothered Rivet in line, casting wary glances at Megatronus. Most of them must have heard their conversation at the end of the last shift.

The blue mech whose designation—Megatronus realized as he thought back—was Spiral, shot a glare at him as they got ready to begin their work.

"What do you have to be so happy about?" he growled.

And then Megatronus realized that he was happy. How could he not be? He had words and a friend, and was now ahead of everyone else instead of behind them, because most of them only had words.

The work was hard, as usual, but Megatronus didn't mind it as much, and at the end of their shift, when Photodraft came to clean out his wounds, he had a question.

"Why is everyone unhappy?"

"What?" Photodraft said.

"I don't think I've seen anyone happy here, my entire time here, except for this crazy mech who might have been trying to kill me, and occasionally Rivet. And I'm not… I'm not unhappy, especially now I can talk."

Photodraft sighed and leaned away, frowning at the ground.

"I'm sorry," Megatronus said. "Was that not a good question?"

"No, it was fine," Photodraft replied. "It's just…" he looked sad. "Well, this place… this is not the nicest place on Cybertron. In fact it's one of the worst. I haven't seen the sun in… in almost a quarter of a vorn now."

Megatronus had never seen the sun, so he wasn't sure what was so special about it that it would make Photodraft so sad.

"And we're practically starving, and by the time we're done with our shift, we're so exhausted we just come back here and collapse. And we'll all die down here sooner or later, because they work us too hard and we don't have medics… Rivet needs an upgrade or he's going to get sick, but we can't get him one…" He trailed off, glancing at his little brother.

"I'm going to die," Rivet said calmly.

Megatronus still didn't quite understand, but he didn't continue to press the question.

Time went by. Megatronus worked hard each shift, looking forward to the end and the short conversations he could have with Photodraft and Rivet before they all recharged. His wounds improved, but he didn't stop making certain Rivet got to drink his energon.

From watching the guards, and listening to his fellow workers, Megatronus discovered that he was in a place called Kaon and that he was a slave, and that they'd probably put him here for some reason—some crime he'd committed that he couldn't remember. The guards didn't seem to be here of their own free choice either, though some of them seemed to enjoy exercising their authority over the workers. Megatronus wasn't afraid of them. One time, he'd been watching Spiral whip another miner, and he could see that the mech was holding the weapon wrong, using it in a way that did not maximize the force of his blows. He'd noticed similar things about the others.

"So you were somewhere else before here?" Megatronus asked one off-cycle when Rivet was already recharging, and Photodraft was working on flattening a chunk of metal into a thin sheet. He didn't have the proper tools, but he did have an old, faulty welder to heat it up with so he could beat it flat with another rock. He would keep it, and use it as a patch if he or Rivet got badly hurt.

"Yes," Photodraft said. "I lived in Kaon, but… well, not the mines."

"Why did you come to the mines?"

Megatronus saw at once that this was yet another wrong question. Photodraft set the welder down and scowled at the misshapen lump of metal.

"You don't have to…"

"No," Photodraft sighed. "I… it's not a particularly unusual or exciting story, but… my creators were in debt to Clench. He's the one who owns the mines, and runs the gladiator pits. Time came for them to pay, and they couldn't, so Clench took Rivet and me instead, and sent us here."

"So you could get out? If you work long enough?"

"No," Photodraft said. "We don't get paid, and they don't keep track of how much money each of us specifically makes them. At this point, my creators would have to pay off their debts, and then raise enough credit to buy our freedom."

"But wasn't… wasn't them taking you fulfillment of their debts?"

"No. It was just punishment for being unable to pay."

"But they're making money off of you. That isn't…"

"They're making money off of you too," Photodraft said. "You don't even know what you did to get you sent here."

Megatronus looked down at himself. Some of his paint had come off, but there were still patches of white and brown. "I wonder… I wonder where I'm from."

"No telling," Photodraft said. "You looked even better than most of the guards when you showed up. So I'd say middle class in one of the bigger, nicer cities on the other side of the planet. Polyhex, Altihex… maybe even Iacon."

Megatronus had never heard those names before.

"I wish I could show you a map," Photodraft started working on the metal again. He burned his hand and grimaced. "But that's not likely down here."

"Why didn't your creators just refuse to let Clench take you?"

"They would have been killed," Photodraft said.

Megatronus frowned. "Did they not have any friends to help them?"

"You still have a hard time understanding, don't you?" Photodraft asked. "None of their friends could do anything. We have no rights. The guards and everyone else can just walk right over us, and we have to lie down and take it, because if we stand up, they can kill us with no repercussions. You know how much Spiral hates you. It's because he got in trouble for almost killing you, and he feels like that's not fair. Oh, Primus…"

"What?"

"I'm worried what will happen when he's allowed to kill you again. It's only about a decaorn away, isn't it?"

Megatronus nodded. "I'll be ok."

"I hope so," Photodraft said. "You'd better keep your helm down, though." He went back to working on the sheet of metal. It was nearly thin enough now. "Rivet likes you," Photodraft said. "He'll be really sad if you die."

Megatronus smiled, trying to be reassuring. But Photodraft just looked even more solemn as he finished the sheet of metal and then curled up around Rivet and powered down. Megatronus wondered why Photodraft seemed even less happy than he had at first. Was it Megatronus's fault?

Maybe it was. Photodraft cared about him too now, despite occasionally denying it, and Megatronus was almost as helpless in some ways as Rivet. So now Photodraft felt as if it was his job to look after both of them. Megatronus had seen mechs die now, and new ones join the group. Most of the time, no one even noticed. If he died, however, it would hurt mechs he cared about. And if they died, he would miss them.

No wonder everyone stayed away from each other.

The orn that marked the end of his first four decaorns working in the mines came eventually. Photodraft hadn't brought it up again, and Rivet hadn't mentioned it either, but Megatronus could tell they were worried. Slag, he was worried too.

Spiral had been a little less hateful lately, so Megatronus had hope he was losing interest, but he was still nervous.

He woke them—everyone else that was. Megatronus hadn't been able to recharge—as he usually did, shouting for them to get up and get moving. They all trudged out into the hall and got in line for energon. Spiral stood to the side, watching the line with a bored look on his faceplate. Then he caught Megatronus watching him.

"You."

The line kept moving, but Megatronus could feel everyone's audios straining to hear what Spiral was saying.

Megatronus met the mech's gaze calmly.

"Out of line," he said.

What?

"Get out of the line," Spiral said again.

Megatronus stepped out of the line, holding himself with as much calm as he could, though inwardly he was seething. He knew he ought to be afraid of Spiral. Spiral had friends to back him up, and weapons, and power. But Megatronus could feel nothing for him but defiance that bordered on loathing. Spiral was nothing more than… Megatronus searched for a good word to describe the situation.

Than a bully. Spiral was just a bully, and Megatronus would very much like to prove to him that he couldn't push everyone around.

At the same time, Megatronus could easily remember the pain of being beaten within an inch of his life. He had no desire to relive that.

"Forward," Sprial said, getting his whip out. "Move."

He followed Megatronus to the front of the line, and then past it, to the other side, where mechs had their energon already.

Spiral left him there and went back to the end of the line.

Photodraft and Rivet came through, both looking worried. They walked over to where Megatronus was standing. Rivet quietly offered his cube of energon, but Megatronus shook his helm.

"That's yours."

"You're bigger than me," Rivet said. "You need it more. Besides, you've saved me a lot of energon since you started making sure no one else took it."

Megatronus shook his helm again. "And the answer's the same for you, Photodraft. I'll be all right for this shift."

He didn't say he'd be all right indefinitely. If Spiral decided to do this again, he would be in trouble. The injustice of it struck Megatronus again, and he felt the strong need to do something.

So he walked back toward the femme and her energon. Photodraft and Rivet stared, and Spiral noticed too and narrowed his optics, as if daring Megatronus to make trouble.

But Megatronus stopped near the cart and waited patiently.

A mech who had been injured the other orn and was limping heavily came through the line. He didn't have much of a chance, and he knew it. A larger mech started toward him even before the energon was in his hand, but Megatronus stepped forward and into that mech's way.

The mech with the hurt leg grabbed his energon and drained it before anyone else could take it. Megatronus stayed near the cart, making sure everyone else got their portion. None of them thanked him. In fact most of the mechs he'd helped looked resentful. He didn't mind though, because he understood now. Caring and helping were things you didn't do, and none of the others wanted to follow him out of that norm and into the realm where things mattered.

"What the frag are you doing?" Spiral said, once everyone had gone through the line.

Megatronus didn't answer, though he could think of a few nice comebacks. Essentially, he was doing what Spiral was supposed to be doing—keeping everyone in order. But if he pointed that out, he was pretty sure he wouldn't be doing it for long.

And then Rivet would go back to having his energon taken from him every shift.

They went down to work in the lower tunnels. About halfway through the shift Megatronus started to feel dizzy and weak, but he kept on. He'd done this before, and could do it again. Then at the end of the shift, flanked by a worried Photodraft and his little brother, Megatronus stumbled back to the cavern where they recharged.

He was nearly powered down when there was a gasp and someone grabbed him roughly, dragging him to his pedes. Megatronus un-shuttered his optics to stare into the faceplate of the largest worker in the group.

"You," he said. "You think you're so noble, don't you?"

Megatronus pushed away and the mech let go of him. He got into a steady stance and stared back coolly. "As far as I've seen," he replied. "There is no such thing as nobility."

The other mech snorted. "Well, you can frag off, all right? Some of us need the extra energon."

"Everyone gets their share," Megatronus said calmly. "From now on. Do you understand?"

Some of the other larger mechs approached too. Photodraft dragged Rivet out of harm's way, looking guilty.

Megatronus wasn't mad at him for wanting to stay out of the fight, though, and he wasn't afraid either. They had come to attack him while they knew he was weak. That meant they were scared of him. That gave him confidence.

"No. There's something I want you to understand, fragger" the largest mech said. "And that's what happens if you try to mess with the way things are. They're that way for a reason."

Megatronus looked calmly, unafraid, unwavering. "From now on," he repeated.

The mech roared and lashed out, but Megatronus caught his hand easily and pulled him off balance. The others attacked. There were six of them in all. But none of them knew how to fight. Now there was a strange thing—fighting was such an innate skill. It was just so obvious, just the shifting of balance and the flow of energy. There was nothing difficult about it. Why was it so hard for them?

One of them got in a lucky hit while he was pondering this, and Megatronus stumbled and nearly fell. They converged on him again, sensing triumph, but he fended them off. He ended up with his back to the wall, but that was better than being surrounded.

He brought one of them down for good with a trip, then a kick to the helm. The next one ended up with a dislocated shoulder and a dent the size of Megatronus's fist.

The other four backed off, looking intimidated.

"From now on," Megatronus said again. "Is that understood?"

They turned and went away, except for the mech with the dent, who lay curled and whimpering on the ground.

Megatronus sat down against the wall, careful not to let his exhaustion show. Photodraft and Rivet came back over. Photodraft wore an unreadable expression, and he sat with his little brother next to him, staring at Megatronus for a long time.

"What?" Megatronus asked.

"If you don't remember anything," Photodraft said. "Then how can you fight like that?"

Megatronus shrugged. "It isn't hard. You just have to balance right."

"No, that was amazing, you didn't even flinch, and you fought off six other mechs—all of them bigger than you."

"But they…"

"You could go to the gladiator pits."

Megatronus tilted his helm to the side. "What?"

"You must have heard of those… they…"

"I know what they are," Megatronus said. "Sort of."

"Well, you're good enough, they'd probably let you join if you told the right guards you wanted to. You wouldn't have to work so hard. They'd give you plenty of energon… you might not live quite as long, but it's better anyway. You might not live long here either if Spiral…"

"But I'd have to leave," Megatronus said. Suddenly the prospect of doing anything else was daunting. He was used to getting up and going to work and coming back at the end of the shift to have a short conversation with Photodraft before resting, and then getting up again. He wasn't sure he wanted that to change.

"Yes," Photodraft said. "Don't worry about us. We'll…"

"No," Megatronus said. "I'd rather stay here."

Rivet smiled. "Well, I'm glad," he said. "I wouldn't want you to leave, Megatronus. We'd miss you. It's not often you find a friend down here…" He looked suddenly sad and Photodraft put a hand on his shoulder. Megatronus made a mental note to ask later, one off-shift when Rivet powered down before Photodraft did.

For now he was too tired. He let himself slip into recharge.

"Get up you useless piles of scrap! Shift starts in two breems!"

Megatronus lay still for a moment, wishing to Primus he didn't have to get up. But he dragged himself to his pedes, and followed the others out into the hallway to get in line.

He was almost to the front when Spiral took him aside again and shoved him past the cart of energon. Once again both Photodraft and Rivet offered to share, but Megatronus turned them down, telling them that the next shift, if he still hadn't had any, he'd let them give him some.

But he knew this couldn't go on forever. Two rations could not be split between three… then again, Photodraft and Rivet had been sharing one most of the time before Megatronus had started protecting Rivet.

This time, no one attempted to take anyone else's energon. At least that had worked.

They walked to the area they were mining at, and got to work. Megatronus had never done two shifts without energon and he was basically running on fumes. At least the task didn't take much thought. He carried rubble back and forth, away from the wall where they were drilling, to where it could be carted away. He still had no idea where all of it went. He wondered if it had any use, or if it was just thrown away somewhere. Maybe there was an enormous pile of it…

"Hey, pretty-paint," Spiral shouted, "Get your aft in gear. We don't have time for slacking."

Megatronus tried to go a little faster. He was not the slowest worker by far. There were some who got away with barely doing anything at all.

Spiral came over, and lazily flicked his energon whip at Megatronus's arm, causing him to drop the piece of rubble he was carrying on his pedes. He winced, but didn't cry out, and bent to pick it up as if nothing had happened.

"A little clumsy there, aren't you?" he said.

Megatronus glared at the ground. The whip lashed across his back, and Megatronus gripped his piece of rubble harder.

"Pick up the pace," Spiral said.

"Frag off."

Silence.

"Excuse me?"

Megatronus turned and tossed the rubble to the side. "You want to kill me, then get it over with, you slagging coward. Otherwise leave me the pit alone."

The other guards were approaching too, expressions ranging from slightly sorrowful, to bored, to excited as they converged around him.