The response to that last chapter was fan-freaking-tastic, thanks for that XD

Thank you all for your patient waiting :)

I know you've been on the edge of your seats waiting for this, I have too, trust me!

There are no excuses, however, I do have to say that I was at Disney World, so I couldn't update and the site was rejecting my chapters D: It was a bit difficult.

But I'm back now :D

Alright, a little note: The second part of this will be a little different. Russian will be in Normal text. English will be in Italic text.

I sincerely hope that you all like this and that it was worth the wait!

Enjoy!

Of The Spark And Heart

Part 2

Chapter 63

Fera was intensely confused at what she saw before her. Her friend and Autobot comrade was standing beside a Decepticon? Could that be him? She narrowed her optics, straining to see him better. From his crest to his toelinks, he looked the same. There was no mistaking him. But what was he doing next to...who was that mech?

A rough servo wrapped around the width of both her arms, pinning them behind her spinal support. She was yanked up onto her kneebolts hard enough to make her wince in discomfort. The numbness from getting hit in the helm was leaving her, letting only a muggy cranialache remain in its place. No matter how much she rolled her shoulderbolts, she couldn't worm her arms free of their restraint. Somewhere off to her side she could hear Solas' voice. He was yelling at an unfamiliar pair of Decepticons as they tried keeping his arms behind him like they had to her. He was fighting with everything he had in his state, which was still impressive despite being knocked on the processor recently.

Fera grit her oral sheets and watched in concern for her Guardian as he was finally subdued. The two warriors had to wrap their arms around each one of his to hold him down. Solas' frame was leant forward, his kneebolts biting into the earth and digging a trench on either side of him.

"Solas..." Fera called as best as she could. The mech's faceplates shot her way and his optics widened. All signs of struggle left him for an expression of hard worry. Their optics met and he held her gaze tight.

"Fera, are you alright?" he demanded. One of the Decepticons holding him rose a servo and slammed it on top of Sol's helm, effectively silencing him. Fera gasped and uselessly tried starting forward, but she was stopped when her arms were wrenched in reverse. A cry split her lip plates with the pain that bloomed along the top of her spinal support and shoulderbolts. She fell back onto her aft, her helm tucked to her chassis as she fought back tears. Why wasn't Titanios helping?

Her optics traveled upward to the hulking mech again, only to see him observing her with two cold, emotionless orbs. A sinking feeling overcame her spark. There used to be such warmth and kindness in those optics. Just the other day he had greeted her so kindly. Where was that now? He wouldn't have...no, no he couldn't. He wouldn't do that.

He wouldn't betray them.

So then why was he standing there next to the Decepticon while she and Solas were being handled by ruthless warriors? Fera grunted when she was lurched straighter on her peds. Her captor was taller than her, forcing her arms to stretch higher and shove her upper half forward awkwardly. The odd position stretched her shoulderbolts and underarms painfully, however she could do nothing against it. All around her Decepticons made their way back for the Nemesis ship. The one holding her pushed her on, urging her to fall in step behind their comrades. Fera swallowed whatever lubricant was on her glossa and dug in her heelpeds into the soil. No. This wasn't happening.

She could hear Solas nearby shouting and fighting back with all he could, which merely got him a good few hits to the cranial unit that sounded painful. Fera's spark was racing - her thoughts ramming along with all the possible ways this could go for them. None of the ideas were particularly promising, and those that were, were pretty much impossible to do. There wasn't a bright light in their future right now. That scared her more than anything, knowing that she was entering perhaps the darkest hour of her life.

Whoever was constraining her kicked at the back of her legs to get her to move. They were nearing the ship, despite Fera's attempts to stay away. She was biting back her screams as they bubbled up her throat. Desperation kicked into gear when the platform that would lead them on board came within a few yards. Fera began wriggling and shoving backwards to get loose. Because she was small, she was able to move around quicker. Her nimble form jerked to the side, dislodging her for a split second before the mech caught her again.

"Stay still, you pest!" he barked. He hit the side of her helm, sending a resounding crash through her thin armor. She collapsed in a swift moment of unconsciousness. Her vision bounced out and back into the world, her ringing audios singing their song. This break in her fighting allowed her captor to hoist her off her peds and carry her by her upper arms onto the ramp. Shadows passed overhelm and threw a despondent wave across Fera's resolve. She wanted to shout. She wanted to fight. She wanted to tear at anything that touched her until she was free and could escape. But she couldn't do that. Solas and Punch were prisoners as well, and she couldn't leave them behind. Besides, she was having quite the time trying to vent.

The group passed through a short set of corridors, with yawning black doorways opened on either side. Floating optics danced through the unlit rooms in leaching stares at the new captives. They followed every move their peers made as they traveled down the halls. Feeling the optics burn relentlessly into her made Fera shiver in the servos clasped around the berth of her biceps.

They finally made it to a set of closed, metallic double-doors at the end of one of the halls. There had been so many, she had lost count which one this was. A keypad at the side was tended to by an unnamed Decepticon warrior and the barrier opened a moment later. Fera found a renewed sense of terror drive her into struggles once more. The vigor in her systems returned and she bellowed as she twisted and writhed her frame every which way. Her form arched as she strove to get her arms back. Her legs ran through the empty air in trials of kicking the mech holding her.

"For Primus fragging sake, stay still!" the warrior ordered when Fera managed to strike him in the kneebolt.

"Keep fighting Fera!" Solas encouraged from somewhere behind. "Don't stop!"

The doors closed behind the group and Fera called out in a mix of fury and fright. Their window was closing, and she was aware that if she didn't get free soon, there would be Hell to pay. She was even going so far as to swing her trapped arms in a way to scratch or pinch her captor. To no avail.

She was thrown down upon the steel floor without remorse. Her frame bounced twice, sliding along the way until friction stopped her a good four feet away. Her plates were buzzing with the impact and her pivotjoints were whining when she tried getting up again. She can't stay down. If she did, she wouldn't be getting back up. It was that simple. Quivers wracked through her while she climbed to her peds, faint scratches adorning her front. Dirt lodged in places dirt wasn't supposed to be, while grass stains coated a second layer over her white paint.

A quick search for Solas let her locate him at her left, made to fall to his kneebolts by his own guards. He was watching for her, and when he found her, his mandible hardened.

"Fine specimens, these two," a basso voice boomed, so pitched in molten, unforgiving malice that Fera felt the very air leave her vents. The temperature around her dropped twenty degrees. Unseen frost laced along her paralyzed form. "They are fighters."

Fera's helm slowly turned. She didn't want to see who this was. She was telling herself to avert her gaze and run for it. She may not get very far, but by damn she could try. It would have been better than seeing who this being was. And perhaps that may have been a more sane chance, for when she did set her gaze on this creature, she found the mech from before, sat upon a throne of obsidian-colored metal.

He was enormous, even compared to Titanios. Forty feet at least, he had two soaring shoulderbolt mounts that were sharply curved as crescent moons; layered sheets of knife-keen iron atop his cranial unit the color of burned ash; charred violet and silver abdominal slips, sloping, thick pelvic armor; and wide peds with a berth the length across Fera's chassis. The faceplates he had however...if Fera imagined the cruelest, most mercy-deprived set of burned storm clouds she could, she may have come about halfway close to this mech's appearance. This was horror beyond horror; evil beyond evil; malevolence beyond malevolence. He was the Darkness incarnate.

In the corner of her vision, Fera found a familiar form. Titanios was there, positioned at this...beast's side. Fera's energon ran with acid through her. Had he really...? Was this...?

Titanios had betrayed them.

The truth settled in with enough force to throw Fera off her stand. Anger boiled from her very core, spilling over into her limbs with astounding strength. Was this what it felt like to truly find anger in another? Was this what it felt like to be betrayed? She felt tears collecting at the rims of her optics, threatening to spill. She was furious with everything: with herself for falling for this; with Titanios for leading them on for so long simply to get her back to the Decepticons and making her feel like he was a friend; and with that monster sitting on his throne, staring with such self-superiority down on her, for his race of Decepticon warriors.

Without thinking, she launched forward. Her arms outstretched, ready to shed energon. A red sheen overtook her vision and her overwhelmed processor could conceive nothing but the feel of a jugular ripping through her digits. But she was stopped feet from Titanios' stalwart form and dragged backwards by her arms as she roared in physical and mental agony.

"How could you!?" she shouted at the mech, her voice full of hurt. She choked on her emotions and tucked her faceplates to the side to hide her crying. She couldn't let them see her this way. That was what they wanted. Soon enough, she was staring daggers at Titanios again, willing as much angry disappointment as she could. "I trusted you! You lying son of a-"

A wracking slam sounded from the front of the room from the mech on the throne. His fist connected with the arm of his seat, overpowering any and all sound in the space. "Silence, you insignificant prisoner!" he snarled. Fera fell quiet immediately, too thrown into startled fear that she couldn't respond.

Titanios frowned from his spot at who she suspected was his leader's, arm. His condescending look pierced her spark and sent a keening wail through her processor. Not a hint of the mech she'd known was there.

"I gave you no reason to trust me. You were foolish to do so," he stated blankly.

Fera couldn't react to this. Her jaw fell open and her frame went slack. His comment hit her through the middle. Refusal to believe passed in her CPU. How...how could he do this? What sick, sick being could do this and be so calm about it? He had just...Titanios had practically sentenced his 'friends'...to death. She fell back against her captor, actually relying on him to stay off her kneebolts.

Solas suddenly roared from his spot on the floor and leapt onto his peds to start for Titanios as she had. His optics had changed color from teal to bright blue and red, as they did whenever he was angry. "Do you know what you've done?!" he yelled, wrenching his arms to free them. The two keeping him back were having trouble doing their job.

Titanios observed Solas with indifferent optics. "I have obeyed the will of my leader, whom I have ensured my life for when I became a Decepticon," he informed, as if it were the most obvious fact in the world. This only made Solas jump forward again, a deadly lust clear in his gaze. For that brief moment of Fera's weakened state, she wished he would be let free. How could Titanios do this? He made them all believe that...he had tricked them all...even Optimus Prime...

"We all trusted you, Titanios!"

"Again, such an unwise decision."

Solas very nearly got away then, as the powerful warrior and ex-Decepticon himself lifted his restrainers off their peds before another, larger Decepticon came and grabbed Sol by the shoulderbolts. "I will beat you within an inch of your life, you traitorous spawn of Unicron."

"Unlikely."

"You fragging waste of spark!"

Fera's sights fell to the floor. Her hold on hope was drifting, her spark breaking with every word leaving that mech's lip plates. How could he? How could he do this? "Titanios..." she murmured, barely able to utter the name, as it burned her glossa with the fire of a traitor.

When she looked up again, her optics were ice on her former comrade, his own seeing right through her. "How could you do this? You were a friend to me. What about Cloudsong?" The mention of the petite blue and white medic made the smallest of ticks echo in Titanios' optic. Yeah. She'd hit a cord there. "Did it all mean nothing to you?" For the first time, Titanios looked away. Perhaps he was feeling the guilt. And it was a good thing he was too. Fera coiled the hydraulics of her legs, finding her strength again. She hoped, prayed this mech didn't let her go. Or God forbid, Solas Kaon. Even Titanios wouldn't be able to fend off a warrior such as that mech when he was that angry.

"All for show," Titanios eventually stated. Fera's kneebolts were on the verge of buckling. "It was to gain your trust so I may achieve my ultimate goals."

The mech sitting on the throne laughed a hearty, unforgiving laugh. The sound grated on Fera's audios, making her cringe. "And such excellent effort you performed, Titanios," he congratulated in cool poison. "It is admirable and shall be set as example for our fellow peers. Well done."

"Your praise is greatly received, my Lord," Titanios said, turning to bow before the mech.

"Remain here after our prisoners are escorted to their holding cell," the monster demanded evenly, contemplating with dark pleasure the one double at his peds. "I wish to speak with you in private."

Titanios rose. "Of course, my Lord."

Fera hiccuped when the mech holding her abruptly pivoted to the side, meaning to lead her away into God-knows-where. She called out, fighting for a last-ditch attempt to get free. Sweet sweet freedom was right there. It could be hers. Her instincts were beginning to make her panic.

Solas bellowed a battle cry laden in great, passionate fury. Fera was amazed to see the sheer determination in him as he dug in the fronts of his peds into the steel floor, practically dragging his restrainers behind him. He was able to take a step, despite the force those holding him had against his frame. Solas snarled, taking another step. And another. And another. Until he was but a yard from Titanios, he didn't stop. With a vicious fire in his optics, he looked Titanios straight in the optics and sent a stake of dark promise through the space separating them.

"Don't let me free Titanios," he growled with a tone Fera had yet to hear from him. "Or I will tear out your spark with my bare servos." And the barrel of a blaster came down on the base of Solas' helm, knocking him out. As Fera's anguished cries of defiance rang high through the ship, two defenseless Autobots were dragged into the flying depths of Hell itself.

Hands met a black metal, scaling across the too-sleek surface to grab a crystalline beaker from the cluster of various lab materials scatter about. The tool was sloppy in make and without numbers lining its side, however, it would have to do. They didn't have another choice.

The arm retracted over the small examining tray they were currently working with. The man attached to that arm carefully began to pour in chemicals that he himself had the barest of knowledge of their compounds. These were fluids he had yet to of come across before being dragged onto this damned prison-on-wings. Hesitance was heavy in his movements as he trickled in the glowing substance. Holes lining the sleeve of his once white lab coat, along with a few puckered blisters on his hands were evidence of past instances where he had tilted the bottle a little too quickly.

It was difficult to keep it from splashing, but after the last drop fell in, he was able to relax. Well, as best you could having a twenty-foot tall robot with bright red eyes that never blinked watch you from the darkest corner of the room like some maleficent, waking nightmare. The thing was always staring at them, no matter what they did. It rarely spoke, if ever, so talking to it was out of the question. It was a living monstrosity of metal and gears, with armor sharp on it slim enough at the edges to cut the air like knives. The only time it didn't stand there, stalking them with those ridiculously cringe-worthy eyes, was when one of its peers came in to take their place.

At one point, the man had heard about these kinds of creatures. But that had been, what, fifteen years ago at least that a sighting had come up? They had been a myth then, and they still where now. At least to those who weren't getting the back of their head burned off by a over-sized Megazord toy.

He lifted his stubbly chin to glance over his shoulder to the robot again. The dark glint of his hair was greasy under the light, as he hadn't washed it in days. His skin had paled, the bags under his eyes a deep, hollow brown from a lack of sleep. He couldn't be older than forty, but the grey, stress-induced streak developing along the side of his head made him look in his late fifties. The woman at his side, working with whatever alertness she could muster from their exhausting labor, glanced up when he peered in her direction.

She was a black woman, perhaps in her late thirties, with shoulder-length, short hair, and her shirt torn in multiple areas. She'd tried pinning the holes closed with bobby pins that once had been laced through her usually neat hair, but her attempts at modesty were in vain as the pins, and their morals, weakened. Her lab coat was gone, made to cover the body in the corner of the room. Its still form was a constant reminder by their guards that any one of them could be next to perish. The one watching them now had killed him, and left the corpse laying, decapitated, on the floor. After that, none of the twenty or so scientists had quit working. A few had dropped from pure fatigue, as they hadn't slept in...how many days now? It was hard to tell without sun.

Yeah, sure, they got food. They got water. They even got to sleep sometimes. But it was living every day, knowing that when you woke up tomorrow -or whenever they did-, you would still be doing the same exact thing you were now that was the hardest to deal with. A few had begun talking about suicide. It was just a rumor and a far-off idea, but as the way things were going now, it was becoming a more realistic option.

"Maria," the man hissed, motioning for the woman next to him to come closer. Maria stole a look behind them to Soundwave before inching over to close the distance between them. They were now shoulder to shoulder, pretending to work on the electro-magnetic bomb they'd been assigned this time. Next wake it would be back to the 'big deal' tech. Exactly what they were building, they didn't know. All they'd been told was to find out how to contain a massive output of energy similar to that of a hydrogen bomb...times ten. Easy, right?

"Luka and Nadean have been talking about it again," Maria murmured, staring down on their project in pretending to work on it. The man at her side clenched his teeth for a brief moment before busying himself as well to look occupied. It wasn't too hard, but Soundwave wasn't like the others. He was smarter. They only would have a short amount of time to talk.

"They won't do it," he whispered back, tapping a screw against the nebula model that was their map to building these weapons. Maria reached over and grabbed a screwdriver with more force than necessary. Her veins popped from her dark skin, showing the pure, primitive fear she was feeling then. When she pulled away, she was visibly shaking.

"But it makes you wonder..." she began, trailing off. "What if...we did it?"

The man set down his tools and bore his gaze into Maria's face from the side of his eyes. "Don't even consider it, Maria, it's not worth it," he breathed as loudly as he dared. "Don't tell me you were actually thinking about it?"

"You haven't?" she demanded, her voice rising a level or two. After a moment, she spoke again, softer. "It seems like the more peaceful way to go...and we wouldn't be able to help these...things with whatever they're doing..."

He studied his comrade in the silence, noting her defeated expression and the pure hopelessness in her eyes. Those chocolate eyes, which had always been so bright and happy around the factory, were now dulled in dejection.

"Maria, no matter what, we will get out of this," he promised, daring to hover a hand across their space to grab her trembling one. "No matter what, they'll find us and get us out of here." He wasn't really sure himself whom 'they' were.

"But what if they don't Alexei? What will we do then?" she said back, clearly on the verge of tears. This time, she fully turned her head to him, apparently unconcerned with the sentinel standing but yards away.

Alexei didn't know what to tell her. He couldn't say he was confident about them being rescued, because he wasn't. It wasn't in his nature to lie. And yet he wanted to, if only to lighten her spirits and make some good news come from the bad. After all, it was on his conscious now if they weren't to make it through this. They could either work until they dropped dead -or made dead by their captors-, or wait out the search party to come for them. The latter didn't seem to be the most likely of occurrences, but it was all they had.

It seemed like yesterday that they had been working in the Nuclear Facility in Kirsk, not but a month ago. Or was it longer? Shorter?

Deeply muffled footfalls came from behind the two scientists and they froze on the spot, not daring make a single move. As they stopped, a string of basso speech flowed from their robot guard. It was indeed a language, English actually, and Alexei understood it fine.

"Continue work, both of you," he -or at least he believed it to be a gender-biased sentient being, as a 'female' of their kind had come in previously- ordered.
Next to him, Alexei could hear Maria breath in a long take of air. She then turned on her heel and gave the best smile she could. It seemed so out of place here, in this dim, miserable atmosphere. Even the air was dark for God's sake!

Alexei watched as Maria nodded towards Soundwave. "Go fuck yourself, you inconsiderate spawn of Satan," she chirped all-too happily. Alexei had to hide his grin when he turned away again. Not all all concerned, he grabbed a set of parts to appear busy.

It had been found out during their earlier arrival to this place that these robotic beings understood English, however had failed to yet learn the Russian language. Which, in Alexei's mind, was complete and utter stupidity on their part if they were to be capturing Russian scientists from Russia to work on nuclear weapon-based material. For all they knew, every person in this room could have been plotting against them. And in secret, it had been discussed. Albeit briefly, it had been in conversation.

Soundwave moved along, obviously not caring to reprimand Maria for using her natural tongue to get the upper hand. As a harrowing entity, Soundwave made his regular rounds, setting intense red eyes upon the fellow scientists of Alexei's. Maria took this as a dismissal, and returned to her spot some feet from Alexei. He swallowed in the disturbing atmosphere and rolled up the sleeves of his coat, or whatever remained of them, to keep the lasting cloth from being burnt away by the acidic chemicals given to them.

At Alexei's front was a circular object, much like a spherical grenade, with an inner chamber suspended in the center. Around it was a series of simplistic, interlocking switches or plates that folded around the capsule as a sort of metallic rose. When opened, the core of this outer covering would hold an electrostatic generator system, of which produced voltages ranging in the near forty-thousand volt range. When the bomb was activated, the center chamber, when it was full of the chemical mixture cesium and general water, would open into the second reservoir where the generator was located. Once there, the reaction between them would create a massive explosion. And another unique ability of this weapon was that the smoke it emitted even carried an electrical charge with it, meaning any technology -or perhaps a mechanical sentient being for instance- within range would get its circuits fried instantly.

Alexei grabbed the correct materials, knowing very well what they were, and poured them into the main chamber. He'd stopped using the 'special juice' that Soundwave had provided hours ago. This meant that the last twenty or so electro-mass bombs would fail to carry the electric charge through its smoke. This would greatly take away from their effect, thus aiding whoever was on the other side. Was he taking a risk, purposefully making duds for beings who could squash him with the tip of their pinky finger? Yes, of course. But was it worth it if only to help the other side win? Hell yeah.

With one pass, Alexei moved the bomb down the line to Maria, who would be sealing off the weapon. She knew what her partner was doing, but she'd let it happen as if she'd noticed nothing. After she would close it off the bomb would then pass down to Romanov, and he would pack it in with the other finished pieces.

"Remember those nights that we would hang out back in Kirsk?" Maria questioned softly as she handed off the bomb to Romanov. "Where we would sit around watching cheesy movies and eat roasted peanuts that I'd made?"

Alexei smiled beside himself at the memory of sitting beside the scientist at her small apartment on the outskirts of the city. They would spend hours watching the most ridiculous movies they could find until one would fall asleep on the other, or their selection ran out for the night. Alexei's favorite had always been Prisoners of the Mountains, an old military-based drama film. Maria's had been A Cruel Romance, which they'd sat through perhaps a hundred times over before she had finally lost the tape. Alexei had never been so happy in his life.

"Vividly," he agreed as he continued to reminisce. In thinking of their brighter times, Alexei could almost forget he was making a bomb meant to kill another living being. "Remember when we bought boiled corn cob from the vender and walked through the memorial park?"

"And you threw yours at the pigeon because it pooped on your bag," Maria added with a chuckle. Alexei grinned wider, even as the teasing was meant for him. It felt good to forget about the bad things. He had to lose his joy once more however as the door behind them opened to allow another guard to take over Soundwave's shift.

It only took a quick sneaking glance over his shoulder for Alexei to know who their next sitter would be. He had come in a few instances, and was probably the least volatile-looking of any proceeding him. It was Thundercracker. Although the mech was still as cold-hearted as the rest of his kind, he was less so. He would talk more, and he held more of a sort of sympathy for the 'fleshbags' at his feet. He had yet to see Thundercracker actually act upon threats he'd made to Alexei or his peers, but he didn't want to be the first contender to be splattered against the walls as paint. He liked his life.

The red, blue, and black robot made his way towards his usual corner and leaned against it. His arms crossed, as they always did, and his head tipped forward to shade his eyes from prying sights. Alexei was aware that Thundercracker took naps while watching over him and his comrades, so it didn't seem that odd when he didn't move for what seemed like hours on end. It was when he was awake that Alexei dreaded having the beast around.

After a few minutes studying for the regular signs of Thundercracker's unconsciousness, Alexei scooted over to Maria and began to help her with plugging the bombs. It was easy to tell she was slowing down, as the piles were beginning to build up. Soundwave would be angry with her if he knew she wasn't working as proficiently as the others. That could potentially lead to Maria's death, and Alexei didn't want that. He'd do anything to keep another friend of his from dying before his very eyes.

"Maria," he whispered, trying to get her attention. She perked up some and paused for a brief second in working.

"Yeah?"

"You won't really kill yourself, will you?"

The woman fell silent at this question. Her hands began to move again in their all too familiar fashion that they'd developed in their time imprisoned here. She'd grab the plug, fit it to the hole of the bomb, and weld it shut. Afterward, she would send it rolling down the way to Romanov, waiting at the end of the rows of counters to catch each bomb or weapon the scientists created before packing them into the crates. Maria had sealed up an entire bomb in the stretch of quiet they'd developed. Alexei believed she'd simply ignored his question.

Then she spoke. "No," she said simply, thoughtfully. "I wouldn't leave you here alone. It's too easy a way out - too easy to die off and leave you. Then you'd be at their mercy without me next to you, and that's just cruel. So no. I'm not that kind of selfish."

Alexei couldn't help but smile at that. Maria meant so much to him, and as of right then, he committed himself to asking her out when this whole thing was over. Losing her now would be like losing a piece of himself. "Good, I'm glad," he murmured as he gently bumped his shoulder into hers. "And you're not selfish. It's a nice th-"

As the front doors of the room hissed open with more energy and noise than they usually did, Alexei cut off. He and Maria snapped around to see the culprit storming into their workplace so suddenly. It was unusual to get a visitor here, especially while they were busy. But this being didn't appear ready for a mere chat or relaxation term with Thundercracker. Nor did his face display a particularly happy expression. In fact, he was swollen with rage.

Thundercracker jumped in his spot when the robot had stormed in. The bright yellow and purple form stalked towards Thundercracker, holding a familiar object in their hand. It was with great disdain that Alexei noticed the device, and he sunk down in attempts to blend into the background. He grabbed Maria's wrist and tugged her down as well. She gave him a confused look as he led her from the front of the manufacture lines.

If Alexei recalled right, that angry bot now yelling at Thundercracker in an unknown language of clicks, whistles, and squeaks, was named Swindle. He was the one to usually come in and take the crates of supplies after him and his comrades had filled them. Never had he come back after getting a crate. And now, he was furious in a way Alexei hadn't seen. That couldn't possibly be good.

Swindle was obviously screaming at Thundercracker, waving one of the electro-mass bombs Alexei and Maria had constructed in the bot's face. Thundercracker shoved him off and began yelling back, much to the chagrin of Swindle. The robot abruptly swung around on his heels and began at the crowd of scientists working at the belts. Holding up the bomb, Swindle stopped dead before them all and sent a sweeping gaze along their lines, searing a crimson flame along every fleshy face. Alexei cowered with his fellow workers and Maria was right beside him to follow his direction. She must have realized what his strange behavior was for, and Alexei found he could no longer decipher if it was fake or real terror blanketing the woman's face.

Swindle switched to English, as he was still as lacking in the lingual department as his fellow captors. "Who did this?" he barked, stabbing a finger at the bomb in his hand. The outside of the sphere was charred and burnt, with cracks lining down the sides where the charge must have went off, but the bomb was effectively a dud. Fluid caked the sides along the holes and cracks where the extra liquid must have instantly flash-dried in the explosion.

"One of you made a defective set of electro-mass bombs, and I want to know who it is!" he snapped, making many of them flinch. All horror-stricken, wide, awed eyes turned to the bot. Many of these people didn't even speak English. Alexei and Maria were of the lucky few who did. However he refused to speak up and get himself or Maria killed in the process. Maybe if they all did what they were told and shrunk away, Swindle would leave them be.

That didn't end up the case. Swindle became impatient with the humans and snorted at them in frustration. His gaze raked through them one by one, leaving most to shiver into an all-consuming fit of frozen limbs.

"Alright then," the robot accepted, his voice a low, icy tone now. "If this is the game you wish to play, so be it." Without warning Swindle was upon them. He was swift to leap out at the nearest scientists before him and snatch up Romanov from his place in the center of the gathered. Romanov called out as the back of his shirt was grabbed and he was hefted into the air as easily as if he were a feather. And maybe to Swindle, he was.

The bot backed up from the crowd, ignoring the screams and rush of people whom were closer to Romanov. Those trying to save him were held back by the saner peoples. Arms reached forward and grabbed at the air for Romanov. His wife, Natasha, could be seen at the front of them, shrieking after her husband with desperate tears washing down her cheeks. Swindle didn't mind them at all as he carried Romanov away. Maria grabbed Alexei's arm in nervousness while they witnessed in frozen consternation as their peer was taken to Thundercracker.

Swindle stopped and turned towards the crowd again, Romanov's collar still pinched in between his fingers. "You all wanted to play a game with me," Swindle began as his am lifted and began to reassert itself, quick as lightning, into a large sniper. The barrel ducked to level out straight with Romanov's skull, who was now three shades paler than he'd been before. Natasha screamed when Swindle scowled. "So I'll play."

And he pulled the trigger.

Alexei snatched Maria from before him and tucked her beneath his body, shielding her from the view of Romanov as his wife released a blood-curdling cry of absolute anguish. Alexei closed his eyes tight when he hugged Maria to him, hoping and praying to God that this was all a dream. However the air felt real. Maria's trembling body against his felt real. That gunshot had sounded so real. So it was all real then. It made him want to throw up.

Alexei swallowed back the bile and tried calming his ruffled stomach as a few fiends of his began vomiting. Only yellow bile came forth, as their stomachs were empty, and had nothing to purge. Maria was crying, he could feel it. Her tears were hot when they bleached through his shirt to touch his neck. "Oh God, this is all our fault," she breathed against him. Her voice was shaking badly enough to where Alexei feared she would faint. She looked ready to, if she didn't puke first.

"Do you all want to play this game? Huh? Wanna play?!" Swindle demanded as he stomped back at the humans. "Because I'll be glad to play!" Everyone began shoving into the back wall as they were cornered by the murderous alien. He didn't care for any of them. They were all targets.

"For Primus sake, you're making a mess," Thundercracker piped in, his expression grotesque from the headless corpse at his feet.

"Shut up, Thundercracker!" Swindle snapped.

Alexei watched in horror as another one of his peers, Anatoly, was plucked from the mass of people. Again, bystanders reached after him, though they knew they could not reach him. Broken cries pierced the dreary airs with unfathomable suffering when one of their own was leveled once again with the nose of a sniper.

Before he could react, Maria shoved Alexei away from her and tore across the floor towards Swindle. Alexei, shocked at first, was slow to understand and make his way after her. But she had used the element of surprise, and was now far too long ahead for him to catch her in time. She was waving her arms as a maniac person, crazed in her attempts of rescuing another.

"Stop!" she called, recklessly stepped nearer. "Stop! It was me! I was the one to make the bombs defective."

Swindle turned his unforgiving eyes on her and promptly dropped Anatoly onto the ground. The shaken-up man fell on all fours and began whimpering while he crawled his way back to safety. Maria was picked up instead, much to the terror of Alexei. "No!" he bellowed as he witnessed Maria being lifted off her feet. Images of her insides spilled across the floor in a fan of scarlet and gruesome life made him nauseous once more. A clenching terror gripped his heart and his chest constricted with an icy fist. "Maria, no!"

Swindle held Maria in a tightly clenched hand and turned his back on Alexei. The bold move made Alexei enraged all of a sudden, and the despair within him increased tenfold. He couldn't catch up to the lengthy strides of Swindle as he made his way back toward the door, Maria held firmly in one hand. His rifle was still exposed on his free hand, which only spurred on Alexei's running.

He was only yards away from reaching the bot when a solid blue and black foot slammed down inches from his body. The force of the blow threw Alexei off his feet and onto his rear, where a jolt ran up his spine. Quickly he scramble to his knees, meaning to rise again and evade Thundercracker to get to Swindle. His eyes darted around in search for the robot, only to find that he was already at the open door, leaving behind a man urgently trying to rescue the cargo he was in possession of. Alexei's shoulders slumped and his heart skipped a beat as the doors began to close behind him, forever shutting off the view of himself and Maria.

That could have been the last time Alexei ever saw her. This could be the last day he heard her laugh; caught her smiling; listened to her voice; saw her face; touched her. This could be her last day. Alexei's hand, outstretched for her, fell limp to his side. He then fell to his side and curled up, silently dry heaving in sadness. Dehydration had stolen his tears. Swindle had stolen his friend.

~Solas Kaon? Sol, come in.~

Mirage walked into the open door of the lobby, one servo planted on his hipbolt, the other pressing two digits to the comlink communicator on the side of his helm. It had been joors now that he stood here, waiting for a sign from his comrades. It was grueling torture to have to wait so long in the silence. And that's what had made it the worst part: the silence. He had no idea what was going on, why, or where, but he was beginning to become concerned. Titanios had contacted him in the earlier stages of their operation, however that had been the kalon before.

There hadn't been a single word cast between Mirage or his peers since. He'd attempted contacting them on several occasions, where his energon would boil through its lines and his processor would become fogged with images of failure. It wasn't unheard of for Autobot operatives to enter enemy lines, only never to come back. Mirage prayed to Primus that this wasn't the case for Fera and his companions.

Yes, Fera was the cause for Punch's capture in the Decepticon hold in the first place. It had been her being as a Keeper of which summoned Punch's presence here, alongside Chromia, ultimately ending up with Chromia deadsparked and Punch imprisoned. And yet at the same time, it was never Fera's choice to become a Keeper. That part had been one of the Thirteen's doing. It wasn't truly fair of him to blame the girl for the situation they were all in.

Mirage snarled and rounded away from the door in building frustration. He wanted to blame something - someone. He needed answers to soothe his unsettled spark, but all he could process at this time was his own image. A pacing, powder-blue Autobot let his optics dim in contemplation. What if...this was his fault? A drop of his tanks told him all he needed to know. The familiar string of guilt seeming to of made its home recently inside of him reared its ugly helm. There was his answer right there. It was his fault.

The mech froze mid-floor. Pieces were clicking together, none particularly brightening his outlook. Solas had succeeded in retrieving Punch from the ship, but hadn't succeeded in keeping him. Then the responsibility had befallen Mirage to get back Punch so the Decepticons couldn't get vital information from him. He'd failed.

And in the process of failing, Mirage could very well have gotten Punch killed. The Decepticons now knew he was a traitor, and that he was holding information. They would do anything possible to get what they wanted, even going so far as to deadspark him. Mirage's fists clenched and his plates began to tremble. All my fault, his processor whispered. Punch and Saber are gone, and it's all my fault. I should have done better. I could have saved them both.

~Solas! Fragging Primus, mech where are you? What is the situation?!~ Mirage yelled into the comlink. He was beginning to become overwhelmed by his ceaseless thoughts, of which were eating him alive. Acid burned through his lines and he closed his optic slips to ward off the invisible pain. The silence was killing him. There would be no mech left to welcome Punch home.

"Hey, you! Autobot!"

Mirage's optic slips shot open. His frame went still as stone, his plates laden with ice and his spark skipping a beat. That voice could be recognized anywhere. It was the very last Pit-spawned being he wanted to see at the moment. Pleading for its presence to be a glitch-induced loop in his memories, Mirage swiveled on his heelped to face the human on the scaffold. Slag.

Secretary Kepler was standing there, his arms crossed and his beady, disgusting eyes narrowed in impatience.

"Where is Prime? I want to speak with him," Kepler demanded, his jaw locked tight in pompousness. "There's been a vandalizing of local warehouses holding large compounds of cesium, sodium, and rubidium. We think it's your friends again."

If there was one human Mirage was willing to break code for and smash into a tiny pulp of flesh, it was this man. But he wouldn't do that. Kepler was always looking for a reason to get the Autobots in trouble. Grinding Kepler under his fist until not a sign of him was left was not a very impressive event to place over the mech's helm. As well as that, he was a high-ranking government official, being the Secretary of Defense and all, so it wouldn't look good on the Autobots in general. But frag would it feel good.

Reining in the scathing words on his glossa, Mirage set the Secretary with the coldest, most emotionless expression he could conjure. "Optimus Prime is patrolling at this instant of time," he relayed bitterly. Kepler snorted at that, which only made Mirage's servos clench into fists. They shook at his sides, far finished with dealing with this official and his prideful babbling.

Mirage turned away to leave, but Kepler's voice picked up. "Well call him back!" he ordered, grabbing the rail. Mirage stopped, his spinal support to Kepler. His vents rattled lowly in rising anger. His spark bolted in irritation.

"Optimus Prime..." Mirage ground out. He paused himself in attempts to control his tone. "Will return when he returns Secretary. Good day."

"Now hold on a minute there Blue Boy, I gave you an order," Kepler retorted back with his vile, detestable voice. It took all Mirage had to keep his servos to himself and not swat Kepler across the room. Now was not a good moment to be arguing with this cretin, Solas and the others were still on their mission.

Mirage ignored Kepler and made his move to leave, his digits back on the comlink communicator. ~Titanios, or Solas Kaon, either of you best answer my hails, or else I will lose it with this parasite of the-~

"Soldier!" the Secretary interrupted, following right along with Mirage across the walk of the scaffold. "Insubordination is punishable by a term in the brig. Now contact your superior or his God-forsaken wife and get them here to address this problem. Immediately."

That was it. That was where Mirage drew the line. Optimus was always put down, and so the spy was used to hearing of insults or rudeness aimed for his leader. However, Rethalia Prime, Optimus' precious sparkmate, nannia to his creation, and beloved co-commander of the Autobots, was off the market. Any who dare insult her name was an enemy in Mirage's processor. He turned dull, enraged optics onto the man. Kepler released the scaffolding rails and leaned back as the Autobot approached, danger clear in his body language.

"I do not take orders from you, Secretary," Mirage seared. With Sol and Titanios' lack of response for him in their mission, coupled with every being on base hating Kepler already, and the man's statement over Optimus' sparkmate, Mirage was ready to chuck this human into the Pit itself. "Optimus Prime is not your pet to order to and fro between mundane tasks, nor is his sparkmate a miserable wretch. We are here to prevent the Decepticon cause from exterminating your kind, not to please your every minuscule whim." Mirage's servo shot out to grab the rails. The slam from his snatch knocked Kepler off his feet and onto his rear, ruffling his suit and greased, black hair.

When Kepler looked up again, Mirage was leaning in dangerously close, his gaze unforgiving. "Non mi ha mai ordinare in giro di nuovo, o ti appiattire in una macchia sul pavimento," Mirage rumbled darkly. Don't ever order me around again, or I will flatten you into a stain on the floor. Though Mirage was speaking in another language, Kepler seemed to get the message. His skin had paled a shade and his throat had expanded in a nervous swallow. Those awful eyes of his, a pasty blue in color, were now wide in uncertainty.

Roaring engines suddenly picked up with a reverberating ring in the lobby, blasting sound in the previous silence. Mirage backed off of the Secretary, but kept his optics trained relentlessly on the human. The familiar cacophony of fellow Cybertronians' reformation met Mirage's hearing and he removed his servo from the rails. In his wake, the rails were contorted and bent far out of shape. Kepler saw that and scrambled to his feet, preening himself to contain whatever of his dignity was left.

"What is going on here?" Optimus questioned as he began walking toward Mirage and Kepler, his frame finishing its shifting. By the time he reached them, his final plates were settling into place. Cerulean optics alive in confusion and formality swept between his spy and the Secretary. "Secretary Kepler, I am afraid I had not foresaw your arrival here."

Kepler huffed and yanked on his suit before buttoning it back at the front. His accusing eyes shot to Mirage and back to the Prime. "I was looking for you, Prime, before your brute tried attacking me," he barked. Optimus and Mirage both tensed in surprise. The spy wanted to deny the human's claims, for he hadn't touched the Secretary at all. He'd wanted to, clearly, but he hadn't. He had restrained himself from blurting out his innocence and kept his helm.

Optimus Prime met optics with Mirage and the spy shook his cranial unit from side to side once. The Prime's mandible tightened, which made Mirage shift anxiously. Optimus would believe him. He wasn't so loyal to the humans that he would believe his fellow Autobot to be lying. Mirage's sights brought him to Optimus' patrol party, consisting of an awkward Hound, stoic Stratis, and a curious apprentice designated Thunderflare.

"I apologize if Mirage frightened you, Secretary Kepler," Optimus said evenly. Mirage clenched his digits again as he returned to the conversation. "However, I find it highly unlikely one of my Autobots would willingly attack a human such as yourself."

"Your trust of your soldiers is blinding you," Kepler snapped. "If I ever got hurt by one of your men, do you know what kind of trouble you would be in? Not just them, but you? Your wife-?"

"Excuse me, Secretary, I find your comment incredibly out of line," Optimus interjected back in a warning tone. "Rethalia Prime does not breach this conversation. She is of her own accord, therefore may not be blamed for my warriors' actions."

"Then see to it she does not become involved," Kepler suggested. Mirage narrowed his optics at the overrated primate. One more step, and he was going to be flying through the air. Rules be fragged, Mirage would be doing everyone here a favor by disposing of Kepler. He was more nuisance than aid, and anything he said was basically either a threat to the Autobots, or insult. He'd crossed his perimeter of authority a long time ago. It was only a matter of time before an Autobot 'accidentally' crushed him, or his superiors flushed him from office. Whenever, or whoever eventually did it, would fully agree that it would be worth the time in the brig afterwards.

~Mirage!~

The Autobot went stock still where he stood. That broadcast had been Solas Kaon.

He didn't sound at all at ease, which made Mirage's spark race in its chamber. Taking one look around, the spy made sure none were watching him, and he slowly backed away. Frame ducked and peds taking him silently in reverse, Mirage walked until he was in the shadows. Once there, he ripped around and took off into the corridor.

~Mirage, answer!~

~I'm here, Solas. Where are the others? What is go-~

~We've been compromised! The mission was a failure!~ the audio crackled in and out of life for a moment and Mirage's optic ridges came in. He held tight onto his comlink communicator, vying for the words beyond the static.

~It's Titanios!~ Solas bellowed into the comlink. It fizzled out and in. ~Titanios, he-!~ the message cut off with a definite snap of squealing feedback. Mirage cried out in pain and shut off the comlink to protect his audios.

Everything fell into a stark quiet. Not a single spark or soul passed by that Mirage could tell. His processor clouded with millions of questions and concerns. Solas' message had been urgent, meaning something was wrong. What was he trying to say about Titanios? And what was Fera's status? The Guardian would surely be protecting her, but if say Titanios was injured, how long would he last against a Decepticon horde?

Mirage sunk against the wall, his limbs slack and his optics wide. What was he going to do? He'd sworn to keep the mission secret, but now that their was an injury, how long would they last? Mirage had an option now. He could betray Titanios' promise and tell Optimus and the others what was going on. Or, he could keep this secret to himself and possibly risk getting his comrades deadsparked. He stretched his neck as he looked back behind him to the entrance to the lobby. Optimus was there, he would know what to do. But then again...Solas and Titanios had made him promise...

Mirage's frame slid to the floor. He felt so helpless! He absolutely loathed this feeling, as it happened far too often now. This could be their one chance to get Punch back and allow Mirage to atone for his mistake. But at what cost? He threw his faceplates into his servos, grinding his oral sheets until he tasted sparks. He should tell Optimus. But wouldn't that be turning against Titanios' pact of secrecy? Their lives were in danger. Yet he didn't actually know that from what Solas had told him. They could be inside the ship already, on their way back.

A powder-blue helm lifted and fell back against the wall with a thump. Betray their trust, and possibly save their lives, or keep quiet and risk their deaths.

"Mirage, is there something wrong?"

Glancing up, the ruffled Autobot found Rethalia Prime standing there, granting him a worried expression. Mirage swallowed the lubricant on his glossa and wondered whether to nod or not. His tanks clenched, as if ready to purge.

"Rethalia..." Mirage began, completely left to the mercy of his inner confliction. "I have...something to tell you and Optimus." His servos covered his faceplates again, as if he were ashamed. He felt his energon run chilled with guilt. He could apologize later, when Fera and the others were safe.

Rethalia squatted down, lifting a servo to place on his kneebolt in support. Her steady gaze burned into his helm, and when Mirage rose it, he couldn't halt the flow of confession leaving him.

"We've done something terribly stupid."

Well, yes you have, good sir.

What is in store for our lovely 'Bots?

I've got quite the little plan brewing in my brain, so hold onto your afts here people, slag is about to go down :D

I can't wait to hear what you all think, and thanks so much!

See you all next week! Hopefully!

There's a bunch of tornadoes around here, so my internet's been a bit fuzzy ^_^'

See you all soon!

*Chapter Inspiration: Traitor= Daughtry*