I do not own Transformers or Mélange which is from Frank Herbert's Dune.

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS DARK AND CONTAINS NON-CON - If you don't like Don't read!

A Twisting Path

Chapter 5

Aboard the Nemesis

The light of the cell coming on suddenly hit Fireflight in the optic as Hook entered the cell. He drew back in terror at the idea of another Decepticon touching touching him NO make it stop Silver? Dive? HELP! PLEASE! Raid? Sling?NO! NOT THERE! STOP STOP HELP HELP SANDSTORM!

SMACK

Fireflight stared up at the Decepticon medic as he began to repair some the more severe damage to his frame, wincing as he sealed the stumps of his wings closed and tidied up some of the injuries the Decepticons had left in their torture and 'amusements'. After the last welds were in place Hook reached down and grabbed the statis cuffs that held his wrists and yanked him to his feet. Mixmaster lowered the energized bars that sealed the cell and Hook began to drag him down the hall. Flight struggled weakly knowing that no matter what, he was safer in his cell than anywhere a Decepticon took him. His struggles only earned him a backhand slap to the faceplates and Hook continuing to drag him forward through the maze of corridors and hallways that made up the Nemesis. He was unceremoniously dropped to the floor where he fell in a heap dazedly. As Fireflight looked up he saw to his horror not only Hook but Megatron, Starscream, Soundwave and Swindle standing before him. Quickly looking around for a place to hide or a way to escape he realized there would be none for he was trapped inside a large shuttle bay with the top hierarchy of the Decepticons. That thought alone made Flight tremble with fear and terror as all the occupants in the room stared at him with varying amounts of interest.

Moments later, the outer doors opened and a medium sized shuttle landed neatly on a shuttle pad near to where the oddly mixed group stood. The shuttles doors opened and down swept, with a grandiose and theatrically dramatic entrance, a large mech with cold and calculating optics.

"I am Cantos! I believe you have been expecting me." Spoke the newly arrived mech.

"Yes," spoke Swindle "We have the mech we spoke of, do you have your part of the deal?"

'Deal? They had to be speaking of him as the mech but what deal? This didn't sound good!' thought Fireflight as the mech who called himself Cantos looked at him like a Kremzeek looks at a power outlet. 'And THAT look can't be good.'

"I have the part you specified, yes, and this is the mech?" Cantos walked forward as he spoke, slowly circling the cringing Autobot that was badly injured. "You're sure this is the one I wanted?"

"Yes, this is the Aerialbot Fireflight whom Sandstorm has been fra- err, courting so to speak." Swindle spoke quickly to reassure the customer as always.

Two large mechs opened a hatch on the side of the shuttle and began to unload a large piece of machinery and then stood to the side of it clearly guarding the item until told it was permitted to allow the Decepticons to retrieve it.

"I shall verify the information and if it is correct than the deal shall be completed." Cantos pulled a scanner and swept it over Fireflight before studying the results and with a nod the two mechs guarding the machinery moved forward and seized Fireflight and began to drag him aboard the shuttle despite his feeble struggling.

"The part is yours. Good to do business with you." Cantos began to turn and board his shuttle.

"Ah, Cantos one more thing…" Swindle began before gesturing to the side where three large barrels stood, "You'll need these as well for him, he's been injected with a substance known as mélange*"

"Mélange? So he needs it or he'll die? Well that's one way to keep him from running away." Cantos laughed darkly then sent a mech to load the barrels onboard the shuttle and then boarded the shuttle himself and departed.

Swindle then turned to Megatron and said "Well, that went well. You have your part my lord."

"Indeed, Swindle. Soundwave send the constructicons to pick up the machine and begin to retrofit it for the device. I want it done in a week." Megatron declared and swept from the shuttle bay.

AT THE ARK

The Aerialbots sat slumped together in a dejected ball of misery in their quarters, simply staring at the door that leads to their missing brother's room. The silence seemed to press in without Flight's bright babble to keep it at bay. They kept sending pulses through the bond hoping to feel their brother even in the slightest amount. Every empty pause where their brother should have responded made their sparks hurt in sorrow and painful regret as each thought 'if I'd only'.

:Bolt, my spark hurts. I miss him so much.:

:I know, Air Raid. We all feel the same. We'll get him back, you'll see.:

At the platitude, Slingshot stalked to the large window that overlooked the fields and runways, his face hard as he fought to control his rage. His posture deflated as he glanced to the side and stared at the small divan pulled snug to the glass, and the dusty collection of art supplies that silently awaited their owner's hands once more. Turning he reached for and forlornly gazed at one of Fireflight's last paintings: a portrait of the five Aerialbots seated outside at the nearby lake, smiles on all their faces, blithely unaware of the horrific future looming on the horizon. Slingshot continued to look, a quick, furtive check revealed no one looking his way, as he clutched the canvass to his spark and several energon tears dripped from his optics as his spark called out: "Oh Fireflight, little brother, where are you?"

ON THE SHUTTLE 'DECADENCE'

Cantos gazed upon the now unconscious mech that lay before him. He could tell in one look how badly injured the mech was from his obvious poorly replace optics, for he doubted that he was supposed to have one red and one purple optic, to the mangled wing stumps and devastated thrusters. With one flick of his wrist, he removed the mech's codpiece exposing the interfacing circuits and the moderate damage it had sustained; most noticeably the missing spike housing and the spike itself.

"Sir, shall we begin?" the medic stood ready to begin or wait, well aware of the volatile nature of the mech he was owned by and had no desire to be sent to entertain 'guests' as Cantos was want to do to punish his servants who displeased him.

"You may begin; remember to make to the special modifications that I requested and to give him his 'medicine'." Cantos leaned forward and stroked Fireflight's helm, "Oh, what fun I shall have with you! Sandstorm will only make this better when he comes to rescue you and instead finds you with my little surprise."

"Sir, you are aware there will need to be certain alterations to the substructure to allow for some of your requested modifications." The medic knew to phrase his question carefully so as to not arouse his master's anger.

"Yes, I am aware that those alterations must occur. Carry on with his repairs and modifications. Inform me as soon as you complete everything." Cantos then swept from the room and entered the pilot's hatch that served as a small bridge on the shuttle. He sat down in at the main chair and pulled up an entry on the terminal linked to his business operations.

"Has the new shipment come in yet?" the mech on the other end of the transmission quickly sat up at attention at the sound of his owner's voice.

"No, sir. They are expected to arrive roughly the same time as you will master." Cantos looked upset for a moment, then relaxed.

"That may work better for my plans after all."

CONFERENCE ROOM OF THE ARK

"Has there been any word on Fireflight's whereabouts or condition, Jazz?" Prime looked at his third in command hopefully as he posed the question that the entirety of the Ark wanted to know the answer to.

"I' got nothing, Prime. Mirage is headed to the con base and should call back any sec now." Jazz made his report to Prime trying to keep a cheerful façade in place as he told of no news. The loss of one of the youngest and most naïve mechs had hit the ever upbeat Jazz hard as he always tried to give the war creation mechs some sense of the sparkling and youngling life they would never have.

"Very well, keep me informed when you learn anything new." Prime tried to keep the disappointment from his voice at the lack of progress in finding the missing bot.

Dark Alley, Undisclosed Location

Sandstorm looked around the dimly lit bar and was forced to suppress a shudder at the unwanted memories being there caused to surface. Sometimes he had wondered if he had been better off not knowing what had happened in his past, but the fact remained at least he knew where he came from and swore he would never be used that way again. Movement from the side drew his attention and was revealed his contact: a slimy black market trader named Foist. Foist walked up and took his seat before beginning an oily schmoozing on his wonderful 'deals'.

"Ah, my good friend Darkhorse! It's been so long since I last had the pleasure of your company! Tell me, what is it you need? No, wait, let me guess! I know! You need weapons, yes?"

"No."

"No? Then, aha, you need supplies! I have a bargain for yo-"

"No."

"Still no? Hmm, no weapons, no supplies. Oh! Something sparkly for your sweetspark?"

"NO." Sandstorm growled out, his rage fanned on by the mere thought, let alone mention of his beloved.

"My friend, I am at a loss then! Wait, aha, I have it! You need information, do you not?"

"Yes, I need info on a mech being held prisoner by the Decepticons." Sandstorm straightened up in the seat and locked visor with the mech's optics.

"The Decepticons, oh my, that information will be a bit expensive what with the dangers and all." Foist attempted to look discouraged but his greed made the effort laughable.

Sandstorm reached into his subspace and pulled out a small case and turned it towards Foist before opening it. Inside nestled a deep midnight blue Praxian 'singing' crystal, so named for the crystals reaction to vibrations by producing musical tones.

"I believe that this should cover the info and more, Foist"

Foist avidly stared in awe at the rare crystal, before saying: "Which mech? What does he look like?"

Sandstorm disgustedly shut the case before Foist drowned in his own puddle of oral fluids.

"The mech, I'm looking for in a jet, a young one. An Autobot."

Foist looked at Sandstorm, trying to figure out the angle the bounty hunter Darkhorse was working this time around, but greed overrode caution.

"Give me three jours and I'll have your answers." Foist stood and left the bar quickly, casting longing looks over shoulder at the case beneath Sandstorms hand. He had calls to make.

Sandstorm watched his erstwhile informant leave and began to plan the next step of his quest to recover Fireflight. With a sigh, Sandstorm sub spaced the crystal and withdrew a small holo-still: the image was of Fireflight and himself, with Flight hugging Sandstorm around the waist as though he would never let go and would love every minute of his life by his side. Looking at the image, he knew that he could never return to existing as he had existed before he met his beloved jet, could never go back to what he had been back then…

Flashback

Lower City Kaon, Pleasure District, 'Pit of Delights' Casino and Brothel

Sandstorm had thought that things couldn't get worse, so of course they then proceeded to do so. As he planned the escape of himself and Windsong as well as any others he could, his 'escorts' came back and scooped him up and dragged him from the room once more. Sandstorm stared about trying to memorize the paths taken and looked about for escape routes, when they finally entered a large office and the mech that had spoken to the younglings the day before sat behind a large desk. It was only as the mech turned that Sandstorm saw a tiny femme maybe two or three vorns older than him, with equally scanty attire perched on his lap and being absent mindedly fondled by the large mech. Sandstorm looked in horror at the femme's blank stare and resigned posture, fearing that a vision of his future was now before him. The large mech, stood and walked towards Sandstorm and his handlers, letting the femme fall to the ground without a glance back and circled around Sandstorm looking at him from all sides.

"I am Cantos, but you will call me Master. Is this understood?" the large mech placed a single servo digit under Sandstorm's chin forcing their optics to make contact as he spoke.

"Pit no! You aren't my master! Let me go!" Sandstorm snarled his response and jerked his head away from Cantos' digit only for the hand to send him flying with a powerful back hand slap. Before he could orientate himself a large ped was on his chest the weight of the older mech uncomfortably bearing down on the youth's chassis and spark chamber.

"I am your master! You will come to learn this, either easily accepting it or it will be beaten and branded into your hide! Especially if you do care for your little 'friend' as I am told you do." Cantos then turned and with a snap of his fingers, a pair of guards dragged a terrified and quietly weeping Windsong into the office.

Sandstorm could only stare in horror at his friend who trembled and wept while being held by the guards. Cantos then gestured to the guards who had brought Sandstorm to the office and removing his foot the guards dragged Sandstorm to his feet.

"S-Sandstorm, what, what is going on?" Windsong looked terrified of the entire situation he was in, and he continued to try and shield as much of his form as he could with the skimpy armor plates he had had forced upon him.

"You see, Windsong is it? Your little friend Sandstorm is being difficult, so you are here to help teach him a lesson." With those words Cantos dragged the terrified young mech to him and forcefully removed his codpiece, baring him to the room.

"NO! STOP! LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Sandstorm bellowed and struggled trying to protect his poor friend only to watch in horror as Cantos removed his own codpiece, lifted Windsong and in one swift and brutal stroke impaled him on his spike.

"AHHHHH! Stop! Please it h-hurts!" Windsong was weeping in pain as he was brutally raped before his friend's optics. Sandstorm shrieked and struggled trying to rescue his friend.

"Ah, there is nothing like a virgin valve! So tight and the way they squirm, just lovely!" Cantos smirked as he dragged his glossa up Windsong's cheek, tasting the faintly pink tears leaking from his optics. With a few more thrusts, he stiffened and then pulled Windsong off of his spike and dropped on the floor like a piece of rubbish.

"You see, Sandstorm, you are nothing here! I control everything and unless you want to see your little friend here fragged until he deactivates then you will do as I say, understand?" Cantos used a single digit to force Sandstorm's horrified optics to meet his as he posed his terrible question.

"Put them both in my personal consort quarters. I think I'll keep the little one too." Cantos then cleaned his pelvic girdle and shut his panel before returning to the data pads on his desk. That was the last sight the two youths saw before they were dumped into a new set of quarters together.

"Shh, Shh, It'll be alright, I'm here now 'Song. I'm so sorry! It's my entirely fault!" Sandstorm pulled Windsong into his arms and hugged him as the traumatized mech wept into his torso.

Sandstorm rose and left the bar, swearing to every deity there was and with the full conviction of his spark, he wouldn't fail Fireflight like he had failed Windsong.

A/N : I'm very sorry it has taken me so very long to update, I suck I know. I lost my muse, my motivation and my notes but so help me I will finish this story!