A/N: Finals are done, but I'm moving over the next week and a half, so it may be a little longer before I can get back to every-day updates. Sorry…I'm trying, I promise! Thanks for all the encouragement!

Harris is technically an OC, I guess. I just gave a random Sector Seven agent a name because calling him "the agent" all the time got awkward after about four sentences, and I thought it was funnier this way. And yeah, I know this chapter cuts off at a weird point; it was the first half of a chapter that I had to split for length reasons, and I couldn't find a good stopping point.

Chapter 12: Out of Contact

Riella came back to consciousness slowly, vision finally returning and providing her with a blurry image of the back seat of a government S.U.V. The pressure on her wrists indicated that, to her annoyance, she was handcuffed much more tightly than standard procedure; not something she couldn't break easily, but uncomfortable. When she moved, a gun pressed hard against her ribcage, and she almost laughed, looking up at the Sector Seven agents on either side of her. How well did they think that was going to work?

"Don't even think about it, lady." The agent pushed the gun into her side a little harder. "We've got orders to shoot if you so much as blink wrong."

Apparently, they had missed the part where she was bulletproof.

Her head hurt – an unpleasant side effect of the gas and being abruptly pulled away from an open bond. No matter how much she wanted to make her point, she wasn't terribly interested in further movement just yet. It would be easier when the gas had finished wearing off. "There is no need to threaten me." She allowed her head to rest against the back of the seat. "I would not leave without Bumblebee. Or the human children, for that matter."

"Right," the man on her left muttered. "We noticed. You have a death wish or something? Pull a stunt like that again and you'll end up six feet under before you can blink."

Riella arched an eyebrow. "Agent, I am quite certain that would be difficult for you to manage even if I was still unconscious."

He started to say something else, but was silenced by his partner snapping "No communication, Harris. You know the protocol."

When Riella looked back at Harris, he looked away with a glare. Frowning, Riella shrugged and decided to ignore him for the time being. An effort to open her comm line only resulted in static, which worsened her headache. "Scrap," she muttered quietly. Signal jammer. No surprise, really; when she looked out the window, the sun was up, and they were surrounded by human-driven vehicles – mostly the S.U.V's. they seemed to prefer. She'd been unconscious for several hours, at least.

Closing her eyes, she reached out to the bond, and realized she had reflexively shut it. She knew where the reflex came from, of course; it was standard procedure for a captured bonded Autobot. Close the bond, so that anything done to the one would not affect the other. It was an invaluable precaution, especially when dealing with torture. But for all the logic behind it, closing the bond felt wrong.

She needed contact with Prowl. She needed to know that she was not alone. That whatever was happening on this alien planet in a back corner of a strange galaxy, they still had each other. Rescue would be difficult, she knew, and she didn't expect them to drop the mission and risk human lives to find her and Bumblebee immediately. After all, she noted, wincing at the memory and the blood still staining her jacket, her own rescue attempt had resulted in at least one fatality, possibly more.

After a moment of considering, she settled on a compromise and allowed her block on the bond to lighten. It didn't allow them to speak, and any emotional or sensory transfer was muted, but she could sense Prowl's presence again. And after a few seconds, the surge of awareness in the bond indicated that he knew she was there as well.

Tires screeched and the S.U.V lurched as they came to an abrupt stop, skidding to a halt too close for comfort to the one in front of them. Harris's gun poked sharply up against Riella's side. "Get out of the car. Don't try to run or I'll shoot you."

"So you've mentioned," Riella said dryly, stepping out of the car and carefully tilting her hands to keep the now-unlocked handcuffs in place. A few yards away, Sam and Mikaela had just gotten out of another S.U.V, along with Simmons, who was pushing both of them toward a helicopter. They weren't her concern at the moment. She turned as subtly as possible, flicking her scanner on again and hoping Bumblebee would be close enough to avoid the signal jammer.

He was. Riella's eyes narrowed in anger and worry at the sight of the young Autobot strapped to a flatbed truck, semiconscious and making no sound. It took a physical effort to keep from pulling away and running to him, which the human agents apparently noticed - Harris's grip on her arm tightened, and she heard the soft click of a gun safety being switched off.

"Really, Agent?" She turned to look him in the eye, coldly staring him down. "Please don't bother. We both know it is entirely pointless." Without waiting for him to respond, she forced herself to walk toward the helicopter, opening a comm line as she did. ::Bumblebee, if you can hear me, respond!::

She got a few clicks in response, then a static-laced transmission. ::*kkhhhtt*Riella?*khhht*:: She couldn't tell if the static was from the signal jammer or Bumblebee's damage. That was worrying.

::I'm here, Bumblebee. Are you all right? What is your status?::

::*kkkhhhkkk*Acceptable if…*kzzt*...pleasant.*kkhhhht*::

::Can you handle the trip out? I have no idea how long it will be before I can get to you, once I board that helicopter.:: She studied her position relative to the agents, making a rapid decision. If Bumblebee said no, she would take him and get out. They would get to the humans later.

::*kkht* Think so. Get…*kkkhk*…and Sam.::

::Copy that. Stand by. I'll sort an extraction plan and contact you when I have the humans contained.::

Harris shoved her, forcing her to take a few quick steps to keep her balance. Distracted by the conversation, she'd all but stopped walking. With a grimace, she picked up the pace again, realizing that her own comm line was starting to crackle with static. She was probably getting closer to the signal jammer. Once she reached the helicopter, her communications would likely go completely offline.

::Bumblebee, I'm going to lose contact. Stay calm and cooperate as far as you can. Don't worry about Sam. I have visual on him.:;

::*khht*Copy - khhht*::

Riella winced at the coughing crackle, which clearly wasn't from the jammer. ::No exertion, Bee. Stay calm and let your self-repairs work on it. I will get us out of here as soon as I can. I promise.::

As she stepped into the helicopter, her comm line cut off entirely with a hiss and squeal of feedback. Riella winced, tilting her head and shaking it in an effort to get rid of the piercing sound. Slag. I was hoping for more time. She reached into the bond again, taking comfort from the faint hint of Prowl's spark. Just stay calm and be patient. She stopped where Harris gestured for her to sit down between Sam and a woman she didn't recognize, and frowned pointedly at his effort to hand her ear protectors and a microphone. It took a moment, but he got the hint, reached to remove the handcuffs, and stopped to hunt for a key. Raising an eyebrow, she flexed her wrist slightly, snapped the metal, and handed him the cuffs, helping herself to the ear protectors and microphone.

"Holy shit…" The dark-skinned young man across the aisle stared up at her with wide eyes and faintly shaking hands. Riella smiled calmly at him until he shrank back in the seat, then turned her smirk on Harris. The agent yanked his gun out and pointed it shakily at her chest.

"Down! Sit down now or I will shoot!"

"I would not recommend that." Riella took her time, adjusting the microphone earpiece until it fit comfortably over one pointed ear. "Shooting point-blank in an enclosed space is likely to cause a ricochet."

Harris, to his credit, managed to hold the gun pointed at her until she finally did sit down and buckle the seatbelt across her chest. The moment she did, he took a few quick steps backward and all but ran for the cockpit, leaving her alone with Sam, Mikaela, and the two unknown humans as the helicopter took off.

"Humans," she remarked dryly over the microphone. A quick scan revealed that the channel did not, in fact, connect to the cockpit. For all intents and purposes, this was a private line.

"You say that like you aren't one." Sam looked at Riella and seemed to reconsider. "Uh, assuming you are."

Riella arched an eyebrow. "After everything you've seen, Sam? That would seem to be a rather illogical assumption."

"…Sorry?" Sam looked away, as if he couldn't make eye contact, and glanced over at the strangers. "Um, so…hi?"

"Yeah, hi." The woman beside Riella leaned forward to look at him, eyeing Riella nervously. "What'd they get you guys for?"

"I bought a car," Sam grimaced. "Turned out to be an alien robot. Who knew?"

"Oh." The woman looked across at Mikaela, who shrugged and shot Sam a stern look, before not-quite making eye contact with Riella. "Um, what about you? You were joking about the human thing, right?"

"No." Riella shrugged. "And I am not entirely sure what they're arresting me for this time. Possibly for existing."

"Existing?" Mikaela slid back in the seat, as if trying to make more space between herself and Riella. "Look, you've been dodging around giving us information since we met, okay? What's going on with you?"

Hmm. Fascinating. After a moment of internal debate, Riella decided that she might as well be honest. It wasn't as if her nature was a secret, anyway. "Which version of the truth would you like? Technically speaking, I am here because I found an alien robot in a supposedly uninhabited jungle, an extremely long time ago. More technically speaking, I am here because I chose emotion over apparent rationality, both in that jungle in the first place and now last night when Bumblebee was threatened. Either one is rather accurate."

"You're doing it again. Not explaining!" Mikaela shook her head, looking at Sam for backup. "I mean, Optimus Prime introduced you as one of his commanders, like you've been with them for a long time, and you talk about humans like you aren't. And you don't look like one, either, not up close. I saw..." She gestured toward Riella's arms, still covered by her hologram projection. "When that...thing..."

"Barricade. Decepticon," Riella corrected automatically.

"Right, whatever. You were fighting, and your arms…they were some kind of blue metal. With knives attached. You did it again last night. And whatever comes out when you get cut...it's not blood. It's green. It's still on your jacket. At least – oh, God, I hope that's what's on your jacket." Mikaela stopped for a moment to stare at Riella, which everyone in the helicopter was doing by this point. "You look like you could maybe be human, but…not all the time. What are you? I mean really."