It was barely dawn when we had arrived on New Archon. I rode a caffeine and adrenaline rush for the next twelve hours as we again went into emergency response mode. With Prowl, Optimus, Lennox, and Black, I reviewed each of the Autobots' reports and even their memories of Daemon's kidnapping. Prowl hinted that I should be recusing myself from leadership responsibilities right now, but if I did that, I wouldn't be in the know with the latest information, and I needed that information to save my son.

Over and over, I saw footage of him captured, whisked away, handed off to a Decepticon Seeker, and somehow it still didn't feel real. My mind knew Daemon had been kidnapped, and there was a tight knot near my heart, but somehow I couldn't process yet that he was truly gone. I wasn't sure if that was because of everything else that had happened or because I just needed more time. Either way, I knew it wouldn't be pretty then that penny finally dropped, so I kept my focus just next to what he might be enduring right now and focused on the details that might give us a clue on how to rescue him first.

We discussed Skywarp's apparent enhancements, what kind of havoc he could wreak, and how we might be able to thwart him. At that point, we brought in Wheeljack, Ironhide, and Chromia to talk about how we could beef up the BINDS satellites and how quickly. We theorized about likely destinations the Decepticons could be bringing Daemon to and different reasons for his kidnapping. Ransom or coercion were both at the top of that list, but so far we'd hadn't gotten any demands from Shockwave or Megatron.

I wasn't hungry when lunch rolled around, but Optimus insisted that I take a break, both verbally and with a firm nudge over the bond. It was then that I realized just how unprepared New Archon was for human visitors. Since we'd evacuated the tower in Arlington, lunch had to be 'bridged to us from the mess hall on Diego Garcia. We sat together with the 'bots in the shade of the community center's partially-built structure.

'Trice was happily talking with Arcee and 'Bee as they helped her get her food, and I squeezed Mikaela's hand. "How'd it go with RaFly?" I asked.

"She says Daemon will come home safely," she replied almost woodenly.

"RaFly?"

"No," she said, shaking her head and watching our daughter with an intent expression. "Beatrice. She claims she had a dream where he and Fancy ride a roller coaster and then he comes home."

I blinked in surprise, vaguely remembering 'Trice saying something like that back in D.C. "But…Fancy is Jazz, right?"

"Yeah," Mikaela admitted, her shoulders drooping.

"Jazz is dead," I pointed out. "And he's not coming back. He chose that fate years ago."

I couldn't bring myself to say out loud the other half of that thought: if Daemon was with Jazz, then he was dead, too. Even unsaid, the thought made my eyes sting with tears I refused to make time for.

I think Mikaela understood, though, because a closed mask of an expression descended over her face. "I know. I don't understand it either."

With a deep sigh, I grabbed a wrapped hoagie sandwich out of the cooler and, dusting off some orange cheesy powder, offered it to Mikaela. She accepted it without checking the ingredients and took a bite. As I reached for my own sandwich, I noticed the chip bag that had been set aside. The mylar looked like it had exploded and then been fused into a lump with the cheesy puffs. No wonder there was orange powder all over the inside of the cooler.

What the slag? I asked 'Bee, showing him a mental image of the bag.

'Gnarly,' I think, is the technical term Wheeljack's using for when things get scrambled by the ground-bridge.

Sounds about right, I replied, examining more closely the hoagie in my hand. It looked okay. Hopefully it was also still edible on a molecular level.

I didn't really taste any of it, just chewed and drank from the canteen al-Sharif handed me. "How are you doing?" I asked him.

"Worried for Daemon," he answered. "And, to be honest, worried about Ayesha and my own boys, too."

Without knowing why Daemon was kidnapped, I realized his was a legitimate fear. We'd evacuated my innermost circle to safety, but if the 'cons could slip past BINDS and were targeting kids, I couldn't confidently tell him that Haris and Sufian were safe.

Add one more ulcer-inducing worry to this horrific day.

Eventually the sun set and my body cared to remind me that I'd been awake for more than 24 hours at that point. Optimus insisted over my protests that we call it a night, and Lennox and Black agreed.

Mikaela was quiet during our ride from the command offices to one of the abandoned seaside two-room buildings that would serve as the temporary "human quarters" on New Archon. I thought her silence was just because she was trying to help 'Trice fall asleep during the ride. When I carried our snoring daughter into the cabin, though, Mikaela stayed outside.

Once 'Trice was tucked in, I joined my wife on the beach. As exhausted as I was, I wasn't in any hurry to face the nightmares I knew would find me, even in a bond dream. There was a full moon, and while Mikaela had the laugh and worry lines to mark the passing of the years, she was every bit as beautiful to me as she was the first time we'd spent the night on a tropical island together. Of course, I was too physically and emotionally drained to do anything more than notice in passing.

"Hey, beautiful," I murmured as I sank down to sitting beside her in the sand.

"Hey."

There was no emotion behind the word, not even exhaustion – she was as closed off to me as Optimus when he blocked the bond. It added yet another worry to this never-ending day. Taking her hand in mine, I asked, "Thinking about Daemon?"

Her shoulders slumped. "That, too."

I frowned in confusion. What else could possibly compete with our son being kidnapped by Decepticons? "What do you mean?"

Grimacing, she looked away, struggling with her emotions. Taking a deep breath, she met my gaze again. "I mean she was supposed to be mine, Sam." Tears glistened in her eyes and she angrily lunged to her feet and strode a few paces away, looking out over the ocean.

"I don't understand."

"You had Daemon. You had your heir of a Prime. But nobody cared about Beatrice. She was mine. When you and Daemon are off doing whatever for the Autobots, I wouldn't be alone – that was the deal, the compensation fate gave me."

I stood up and stared at my wife, feeling like I was seeing her truly for the first time in a very long while. "What do you mean nobody cared about 'Trice…"

Mikaela silenced me with a dirty look and then stared unseeing at the ocean. "She's just human. Like me. Or I thought she was." She swallowed hard, shaking her head slightly. "And it terrifies me that the deal has changed. Elita One and Jazz are her imaginary friends? The Primes took you and then Daemon and now her." Her voice had grown rougher with each word as she said, "I mean, how many times have you died for Optimus? No sacrifice, no victory, right? What else will I have to sacrifice?" She took a sharp, shaky breath and covered her hand with her mouth, holding back the grief.

In all the years of worry about Optimus being left alone when I died, I hadn't really thought about how lonely it might be for Mikaela if Daemon and I both had a bond with him. And now we had this whole shock with 'Trice, too. Slag.

"I've lost them both in a single day."

Her shoulders started shaking, and, crossing the sand to her, I pulled her close, wordlessly letting her cry because my eyes were stinging as I struggled, too. That made her sob harder, and she croaked out, "I've lost all my babies!"

My own tears overflowed, catching in her hair. I pressed my lips to her forehead and reflexively reached out to wrap her up in a hug of the heart like I had a thousand times for Optimus.

She jerked back, eyes wide.

We stared at each other in shock for a long moment and she finally asked, "Did you feel…?"

"…a connection?" It was gone now as abruptly as it had come, and I blinked in stunned confusion, too tired and heartsick to make sense of it. I thought it had been my imagination, a wish that I could comfort her and take comfort from her like I did my brother, but if she felt it too…

Tentatively I reached for her hand, remembering something Optimus had said years ago about humans having our own kinds of bonds and that they reacted most strongly to touch. I didn't think they could get as strong as a Cybertronian one, though, not even the weakest of kin bonds. Twining my fingers with hers, I tried again to wrap her up in a hug of the heart, but I couldn't. "I think…you might be blocking the bond, Mikaela." It was surreal to say the words.

She crumpled into my arms, tears quietly flowing again, and nestled her head under my chin. Maybe that's why I hadn't sensed this bond before – Mikaela was rarely this vulnerable. How long ago did it form? And how?

Pushing those thoughts aside, I tried again to reach out over that bond-sense and console her. She shuddered once and then the dam burst, her jumble of emotions breaking through the block. With every touch, every kiss, her feelings crashed over me – her own need for comfort echoing mine and mingled with grief so intense that I got flickers of specifics. She wasn't just mourning Daemon and 'Trice. There were also the miscarriages and the loss of her mother Consuela. We did eventually make it back into our cabin, but we both fell into an exhausted sleep before we could really analyze what just happened.

In my dreams, Optimus was waiting for me anxiously in his office. "I don't have much time to recharge," he warned me by way of greeting. "The JCS wants to meet with me again in an hour."

"So we gotta be quick," I concluded.

He nodded in agreement and then straightened to his full height. "I know you have resisted it over the years, but I will not yield this time. You need to stay on an Autobot base, you and your family and as many of our human allies as possible. New Archon is not prepared yet to support that many humans for the weeks or months it may take to rescue Daemon or – at the very least – stop Skywarp. I would like to evacuate you all to Diego Garcia as soon as is practical."

My shoulders slumped, but I could feel the intensity of his resolve and I agreed. "Diego Garcia it is. I'm not going to be able to focus on anything else until we get Daemon back either. And while we're at it, we should get Ayesha, Haris, and Sufian to safety. Same thing with my folks, Maggie, Glen, Fassbinder, and Sharsky. Along with anyone else the 'cons might target. Get 'em all to Diego Garcia."

"Thank you, Sam." His relief and gratitude washed over me and the edge of his anxiety softened. "How are you and your family holding up?"

I hesitated, but if anyone could help me wrap my head around me and Mikaela having… something like a bond, it would be Optimus. I stepped in front of him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "There's something I need to show you."

He gravely nodded and rested his forehead against mine.

I replayed my memory of me and Mikaela from the beach, and at the first flicker of connection, Optimus… well, if it was possible for Autobots to have a spark attack or something I just about gave him one. "That's not possible."

I weakly smirked at him. "Neither is a human and a Cybertronian having a bond."

He shook his helm in disbelief. "Sam, you are a Prime and all Primes are brothers. You had contact with the Cube, with the Matrix. You have Matrix particles in your flesh and blood. You have a spark. Mikaela has none of these things."

In answer, I let the memory continue forward to when she opened the bond on her end and let me in, and it left him very unsettled.

"It's not possible," I admitted, "but it is real. Any ideas?"

His unease deepened. "No, not with the information we now have. I believe Ratchet should examine her as soon as possible, though."

"Even with Daemon still in Decepticon hands?"

"Especially with him in Decepticon hands," Optimus answered firmly. "There are too many pieces in motion now, and we need to know everything we can."

I nodded in agreement. After he left my dreams, they quickly fell into the nightmares I'd been dreading about my son in Shockwave's clutches: red optics and pinching claws, a blade cutting his head open. I woke up with a shout and a racing heart.

Mikaela jumped awake, too, and 'Trice yelped once before crying out for Daemon.

What's wrong? 'Bee asked over the kin bond.

Who was I kidding? Between jet lag and anxiety over Daemon burning like acid, we wouldn't be able to sleep tonight.

In answer to his question, I shared my memory of that moment of connection with Mikaela, and he was as baffled as Optimus.

I glanced at my wife. "We're not going to be able to sleep right now, and the others are as concerned about you as I am. Would you mind letting Ratchet take a look at you?"

Her brow knit with worry, but she nodded. "Sure. I mean, I don't know if it'll help but…"

"Momma?"

"Get up, sweetie," she said to 'Trice. "We're going to go for another drive."

Sam? Optimus' concern plucked at me over our bond.

As much as I wished I could just black out and go back to sleep, I answered, I think you're right – we need Ratchet's opinion on this.

He wrapped me up in his worried affection. I'll join you as soon as I can.

We dragged ourselves out of bed and pulled on yesterday's clothes, not bothering with actually getting ready at four in the morning, and climbed into 'Bee's waiting cab.

We rode in silence, but Mikaela took my hand and squeezed it. Despite my worry for Daemon, I dared to try reaching out to her again over our bond or whatever it was. It was faint, weaker even than my first few days sharing a bond with Optimus, but I could feel her presence over that bond-sense.

"Daddy?" 'Trice asked.

"Yeah?"

"Does Daemon have anyone like Besty and Fancy?"

Mikaela turned to look at her in the back seat. "Like an Autobot guardian angel?" She felt a flicker of hope at the thought, but it was almost lost in Bumblebee's bewilderment.

I glanced at my daughter in the rearview mirror. "Maybe." The Ancient Primes had watched me for a long time, so maybe they were watching over Daemon, too, like Elita One and Jazz apparently were with Beatrice. It was cold comfort, but it was better than nothing.

"I'll ask Besty next time I see her," 'Trice confidently declared.

I wasn't sure how I felt about that, though I knew Optimus would be dying to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.

We drove directly into the med bay, where both Arcee and Ratchet were waiting for us. Evac was there, too, but he remained focused on the patient on the berth in front of him. Mirage, I realized with a pang of guilt. He very nearly died trying to rescue Daemon, and I hadn't really thought about him since arriving on New Archon.

The femme crouched down beside my daughter when she climbed out of Bumblebee's cab. "How are you, little one?"

"Good," she quietly, nervously answered.

Arcee extended her hand. "Would you like to come with me for a while? Your parents are going to be busy, but I can show you home movies about Besty."

'Trice's eyes lit up and she looked eagerly at Mikaela. "Can I, Mom?"

Since I was holding my wife's hand, I felt a feather-light brush of her gratitude toward Arcee. "Of course."

They left, 'Trice holding one of Arcee's fingers, and then Ratchet loomed over us. "What are you fragging squishies up to this time, hm?"

Mikaela dropped my hand to cross her arms. "Just because we can surprise a crotchety, old pessimist like you…"

He harrumphed (reminding me of Ironhide) and gingerly picked her up to place her on the medical berth. I was left to find my own way up via the stairs. From the higher vantage point, I could actually see Mirage, and it was a relief that they'd already rebuilt his torso and most of his shoulder. His arm was about three-fourths intact, too, even if they weren't ready to reattach it yet.

Then I focused on Mikaela and Ratchet as I walked closer. After drawing a pinprick sample of blood from her, he worked in a silence that grew more and more tense as seconds ticked away into minutes.

"Well?" I finally blurted out.

"She's human."

Mikaela snorted. "Thanks for the confirmation."

Ratchet ignored her comment, instead telling her, "You don't have a spark, nor do you have Matrix particles anywhere in your person."

"So…?" Bumblebee demanded.

"So you'll have to wait another five minutes for me to complete a DNA analysis and compare it to my records from her previous samples."

Mikaela and I exchanged a confused glance. "I've never given you a DNA sample before," she said, and even without holding her hand, I could hear the suspicion in her voice.

"I take regular readings of all the humans we rely on," Ratchet absently said, "both of you, your children, the Lennoxes, the Epps' and my human repair crew. Now shush, I'm trying to concentrate."

We waited impatiently as five minutes passed, and then another. And then another. Optimus strode through the med bay doors and still Ratchet didn't respond.

I sensed my brother's uncertainty, and I told him, Ratchet's comparing her DNA with previous samples. He's in a testy mood and already shushed us once. Probably want to let him finish.

He nodded once, but before he could answer, Ratchet cussed in Cybertronian and glared at Mikaela. "What kind of kinky frag have you been doing? Trying to spark-merge?"

She stared, slack-jawed, and then her face flushed with anger. "No. Definitely not."

"Your mitochondrial DNA has been altered," Ratchet said, planting his fists angrily on his hips.

"My…what?"

"Humans." He huffed a sigh and then started lecturing like a college professor. "Your mitochondrial DNA. Mitochondria are the sub-cellular structures that metabolize the energy that keeps you alive."

"I don't understand," Mikaela firmly said. In my anxious and sleep-deprived state, neither did I.

"Each cell in your body contains structures called mitochondria. They are what gives power to every single one of your cells," Ratchet said, trying again. "In every other human on this planet but one, the power that's produced is chemical energy."

"I'm the only one who doesn't?" I ventured.

"Yes, yours produces spark energy," he said.

Mikaela seemed to follow him better this time. "But I don't have a spark. You just said that."

"You don't have one," Ratchet agreed. "But you could. Possibly. About 80% of your cells in this sample have the modified DNA. Those mitochondria look like they could handle it, and without the death-defying stupidity it took for Samuel to get a spark."

Stunned, Mikaela and I looked at each other.

"That's probably where that sense of sharing a bond comes from," Ratchet continued, looking at Mikaela. "Since every living cell in his body is radiating spark energy, and since most of your body is compatible with it, you're echoing that energy back and forth between you. Come to think of it, that could also explain the elevated lactate levels and the resulting miscarriages. The majority of your body's mitochondria are out of sync with the rest."

"But that raises way more questions than it answers," Mikaela said.

"When did her mitochondrial DNA become altered?" Optimus softly asked.

"Uncertain," Ratchet answered. "I have limited tissue samples, and most of the time I'm more concerned with the subject's primary DNA than the mitochondrial DNA. That's not supposed to change."

"Wait, what do you mean?" I asked. "Did her DNA get altered or not?"

Ratchet sighed. "Mitochondria have their own DNA. It's distinct from an individual human's DNA – so much so that many of your own scientists think that mitochondria began as a symbiotic cellular parasite early on in your evolutionary days. It's only passed down mother to child and, because it's both distinct and stable, it's used for matrilineal genealogical testing."

"And that's what got altered?" I asked.

"Yes. It's not like yours, which could only handle spark energy now." Looking at Mikaela, he said, "These modified mitochondria are more like a hybrid, capable of producing both chemical and spark energy."

"What would do that?" 'Bee demanded.

Bumblebee's question hung in the air as we all tried to process what Ratchet was saying.

"The Matrix was what altered Sam's energy," Optimus finally said.

Mikaela straightened. "The Matrix! I got shocked by it, remember?"

I'd almost forgotten about that. It had happened years ago, before I even had a spark. Optimus had gone into the Matrix to ask the Ancient Primes how to generate energon without the Cube. We had all panicked when my brother didn't wake up, and Mikaela had touched the Matrix while trying to help Arcee bring Optimus around. The resulting shock had given her minor burns and had knocked her out for a while. She'd had a vision or something of the Ancient Primes while she was unconscious, but none of us could figure out what it meant at the time.

"Could the changes go back that far?" Optimus asked Ratchet.

He tilted his helm, considering. "Possibly. I didn't start taking regular readings on humans until a few years later. And if the changes were gradual, it could have taken years more for them to show up on my scans. However…" He held up his hand to quiet us and his optics dimmed for a moment. "Daemon has the same mitochondrial DNA in every single cell sampled. He and Beatrice both do, beginning with the very first medical records we have on them."

Optimus glanced from Ratchet to Mikaela and back. "Does that mean the Prime lineage would descend from mother to daughter in humans?"

Ratchet stood up straighter and looked at Mikaela with new respect. "So it would appear."

She shook her head in denial. "That can't be right. It can't be! The one and only time I touched the Matrix, it put me in my place. It literally burned me and knocked me out. I'm not a Prime."

"I had to die to be able to use the Matrix." I reminded her. "No sacrifice..."

She glared at me, and I knew better than to finish the Witwicky family motto.

"I, too, had to pay a price to be able to use the Matrix," Optimus added. "Perhaps you already have as well."

She could glare me into silence, but she took my brother's opinion a bit more seriously when it came to things Cybertronian-related. Looking up at Optimus, she stammered, "I don't...I don't know."

"Nor do we. This is only our best guess. But I do not consider your previous experience with the Matrix to mean that you cannot be a Prime."

Mikaela glanced down, trying to process it all and then suddenly looked up. "You mean it?"

"Yes. I think it's very much a real possibility that you are a Prime."

Worry still lined her face, but a small smile quirked on her lips. "Thank you, Optimus."

...

It was another hour or so before we found our way back to our quarters, and the sun was peeking over the horizon when I finally drifted off to sleep. Despite the unusual timing, though, the entire clan was there to greet me in my dreams, probably to ensure there would be no more nightmares.

"Is it true?" Beatus asked. "Are Mikaela, Daemon and Beatrice all Primes?"

I held out my hands to him. "Slow down. We don't know yet." Looking around at the others, I said, "All we know for sure is that Mikaela has undergone some genetic changes in her mitochondria, and those changes have been passed on to our kids." And hopefully, despite the clawing despair, Daemon would survive so we could let him know all about that one day.

"But," Optimus added, "Ratchet feels those changes would make Mikaela and any of her children capable of receiving a spark like Sam. Apparently, receiving a spark or not would be a choice."

"But all of Mikaela's descendents will have that choice," Arcee said, all but radiating pleased satisfaction, "and that choice will continue through 'Trice and her daughters as well. Among humans, the Primes will be matrilineal. Mikaela is a true clan-builder!"

But the recap reminded me of something Optimus had said back when I was just learning what it meant to be a Prime. "But I thought Primes were born, not made."

"The marks of a Prime are courage and sacrifice," Optimus answered, "not just a lineage. Was there ever a time when she was not a woman of courage and sacrifice?"

My own memories brought us back to the night I first met Optimus, when she revealed that she had turned in her own father – and did time in juvie – because she'd known what he was doing was wrong. And that was after she'd decapitated that little Decepticon who'd pulled my pants off.

Bumblebee brought us to a scene from the Battle of Mission City that I'd heard about but never seen before – her choosing to go back into the fight with him, and together they saved Lennox and his team.

I showed everyone her killing the Pretender Alice, helping me find the Matrix, and running shoulder-to-shoulder with me through the front lines of the battle in Egypt.

Arcee showed us her memory of when Mikaela had helped her try to fix Optimus and had gotten zapped by the Matrix. That was the critical moment when her genetic transformation probably began – and it happened when she was risking her own life in an attempt to save Optimus.

I took us to the day after I'd proposed, when Mikaela realized just how much of herself she'd have to sacrifice to be my wife and how she stuck with me anyway.

I turned Optimus' question over in my mind and, in memory after memory, she was exactly the kind of person who was brave and loving and giving enough to be a Prime. In fact, compared to her, I had some catching up to do.

Bumblebee reminded us all of her reaction to our flight here just yesterday and how she'd demanded weapons from Wheelie.

I knew Mikaela wouldn't want me sharing what passed between us on the beach, but in my own head, I did recall her heartbroken, "No sacrifice, no victory, right? What else will I have to sacrifice?"

"Courage and sacrifice," Chromia finally said. "She's certainly walked the walk of a Prime. Now, it's just official."

"But what about Daemon?" Beatus demanded. "It's good that the human line of Primes is safe, but he's still in danger! Don't we care about him?"

"Of course we care about him," I said, feeling a flash of irritation. "He's my son!"

"So how do we get him back?" Beatus asked.

It was the question even the JCS had avoided asking in front of me. I mentally floundered in the face of that question and looked from 'bot to 'bot. Ironhide, Chromia, Arcee, Bumblebee, Optimus… They knew so much more about strategies and warfare.

"They'd see us coming," Chromia finally said. "With Mirage out of the action for the foreseeable future, there's no way to take them by surprise, even if they are still in-system. If they go through the space-bridge, they could end up anywhere."

"And they won't hesitate to kill him," Bumblebee added. The words were a punch to the gut, and he sent a wave of apology my way. "Sarah and Annabelle survived only because Bludgeon had a specific use for them. They kidnapped Daemon instead of assassinating him, so they've got a specific use for him, too. But they'll kill him before they'll let him be useful to us."

Arcee frowned. "He's more than just useful. They've got a Prime and the Matrix now. They'll probably try to make their own energon."

"That's not the role of the human Prime," Optimus said.

"Don't tell them that," Ironhide answered. "He's just an insect to them. If they decide he's useless, they'll toss him out the nearest airlock."

"Megatron would," Optimus said. "Shockwave might keep him alive as leverage in bargaining. It depends on who holds the most power over Daemon right now."

"Can he make energon?" Beatus asked Optimus.

Eventually, Optimus hung his helm, surrendering to his worry and fear and even despair. "No."

My brother's reaction brought me to my knees, even in a bond dream, and my kin hurried to bear me up as the reality of Daemon's loss bowled me over. Sobbing and pounding the ground, I was unable to speak, but Mikaela's words echoed for all of us this time. "No sacrifice, no victory, right? What else will I have to sacrifice?"

END PART 1