The Decepticon captive was surrounded by the opposing 'cons. He was panicking, begging for his life. He was on his knees, swinging his servos frantically. 

"Hey, whoa! What is this?" His optics frantically scanned their faceplates as they circled him. He turned his gaze to their leader, the navy blue Decepticon with the green horns on his helm and spikes on his shoulder pads. "I'm a Decepticon!"

Drift, Ratchet and Hina watched the scene unfold up along the cliff, trying not to move as to not be spotted by the Decepticons. Drift kept his arm over her, gently pushing her against the wall of the cliff to keep her steady. 

The Decepticon leader took a step forward, his ruby red optics glaring daggers at the kneeling Decepticon. "In an Autobot ship with Autobots," he spat.

"I was a prisoner!" the pleading Decepticon, Grit was his name, shouted.

"Now you're going to be a dead prisoner," the blue Decepticon growled as he used the nuzzle of his gun to lift Grits chin up, forcing him to look up at him. "We know Decepticons are working with Autobots now. You don't fool us. You're going to die," 

Decepticons and Autobots working together? Hina had heard chatter back on Cybertron about some alliances being formed, but considering her own status she's never actually seen them unfold. Maybe the others on the Lost Light know about it. Why hasn't Ratchet said anything?

Hiding behind the mask of smoke fluttering from their destroyed ship, the trio of Autobots carefully made their climb down the cliff, taking shelter behind some rocks as they peeked over the edge, continuing to watch as Grit was at their mercy. 

"They're going to kill him," Drift gritted his dentas, growling lowly in frustration. 

"Better him then us," Ratchet grimly admitted, his voice low. 

"Better none of us," Drift proclaimed, shaking his helm as he turned over to Ratchet. 

"Drift, you can't be serious," Ratchet's optics widened at the thought as he turned his body to face Drift. He was desperately trying to keep his voice down as he tried to keep Drift to stay low. "Drift, there's five 'Cons down there. Five. Plus the other one who will turn on you in a sparkbeat,"

Drift turned his helm back, looking off to the side. Hina could tell his processor was on overdrive, thinking of a plan. It was as if he was agitated, obsessed even.  How much has he actually changed since leaving The Lost Light?

"Is there nothing we can do?" She questioned, her gaze shifting between the pair. 

"I'm not going to stand by and watch an execution," Drift answered as he stood up, climbing over the rock.

"What is this, some kind of death wish?" Ratchet snapped, failing to reach out towards him in time. 

Drift stood up on top of the rock, watching the scene down below before turning his helm back towards the doctor and his sparkmate. "There's no point in living if you sacrifice everything you are to do it,"

Something about those words sparked something in Hina's processor. What has changed with Drift in the six months she hasn't seen him? What happened during all of his awesome adventures he spoke of? These Decepticons were willing to kill one of their own solely for who they've associated with. The war was over! Why are they still fighting?

Hina watched as Drift raced down the cliff, catching the Decepticons attention as he tossed one of his swords forward, the blade piercing the shoulder of a turquoise Decepticon with a red visor before sucker punching him in his side as he raced passed him. He leaped forward, jabbing his other sword into the leg of a yellow Decepticon as he wailed in pain, dropping his gun.

Her optics widened and on instinct, she jumped over the boulder and raced down the cliff as two dark blue Decepticons grabbed Drift and pulled him away from their teammate. One locked his arms around his right arm and neck, while the other grabbed his left arm. Hina's spark throbbed as she watched Drift struggle in their grasp. 

Heavy footsteps caught her attention as she noticed Ratchet racing behind her. She smirked a little in solidarity to the medic, realizing that both of them were coming to the samurai's aid. 

No words were exchanged. It was as if the pair had communicated telepathically. Ratchet went for the one on Drift's left while Hina would deal with the one to his right. Ratchet grabbed the mech and pulled him away from Drift, spinning him around to face him before headbutting his forehead and the Decepticon tumbled to the ground. 

The other Decepticon holding Drift witnessed this commotion, "What the?!" and before he could react, Hina jumped and tackled him from behind. The three of them tumbled across the ground. Drift managed to wiggle himself three and swiftly caught himself, servos and pedes sliding against the dirt. He looked on to see Hina emerge on top, her bo-staff summoned as she pressed the weapon against the Decepticon's throat and wrists, pinning him down with added pressure against his torso with her knee. 

The femme glanced back at the samurai, still locked in his stance as she peered into his optics and grinned a little bit, nodding her helm in hi direction. You're welcome. 

It was as if he was lost in a trance until Hina felt another pulse through their bond. He was thankful, yet startled. Grateful, and a tad. . . aroused?

The femme raised an optic ridge at the mech, questioning him. For the first time in a while, he offered her his own small smirk in return with a wink. 

He then raced off to fight off some 'Cons who were ganging up on Ratchet, pushing him down to the ground. Growling caught Hina's attention as she looked back at the 'Con she had pinned down and noticed him struggling to get back up. She pushed down harder with her staff, makin sure he stayed down as she scanned the battlefield for any sign of Grit. 

He stood off to the side, completely bewildered. He could have run off while he had the chance. But he didn't. He's just standing there watching them fight to save him. 

It looked as if the mechs would pull through but every time they knocked one down, two more would get back up. It was too much handle after a few blows. 

"Enough!" a voice shouted. 

The fighting seized as everyone looked up towards a cliff at the other end of the war zone to find a new bunch of Decepticons. Their leader was a sleek, purple mech with turquoise chest armour and purple forearms and legs. A pink visor masked his face as he rose his servo towards the group. 

"Bring them. All of them," he commanded. 

Hina was shoved off by her opponent as she, Drift, Ratchet and Grit were rounded up. Slapped on with hand cuffs, the Decepticons formed a convoy around them as they lead them through a gorge, a narrowing path through the deeper parts of the mountain. Hina stood to the right of Drift, mingling near the middle of the group as the samurai rode up front while Ratchet trailed a head of Grit. 

After walking for a bit they came to the end of the mountain path, arriving in a open landscape where at the other end lied tall hills of rocks and sand and another giant mountain. This one however was made differently compared to the others. Something was engraved inside the mountain. When Drift lifted his helm and his optics bare witnessed to the sight, he stumbled, as if seeing a ghost. 

"No--!" he gasped. 

There was a fortress engraved into the mountain. 5 stories tall with two watch towers on either side of the entrance. The structure almost reminded Hina of a palace or temple back in Japan. If they were made out of stone anyways. 

"Drift, what is this place?" Hina asked, stepping closer towards him.

"You do not speak," one of the Decepticons ordered, pulling the femme back in line. 

They brought out chains, using them to connect each of the hand cuffs before leading the four of them through the gates and into the fortress. Inside it was dark, low lit with torches along the walls. They brought them to the center of the fortress which appeared to be some sort of throne room. 

The throne sat upon a small pyramid like platform with stairs on either end. Dozens of Decepticons surrounded it as man stepped back to allow the prisoners to come forward before the throne. The mech who sat on the throne was something else entirely. 

He appeared to be some sort of Predacon. Black metal wings on his back, purple wing like horns on the side of his helm, fangs, red optics and a powerful body build black frame with white armour chest plate and thick legs with purple armour plating along his thighs. He carried a red double ended spear in his right servo, using it like a cane.

He rose from his throne as Drift was pushed forward. Hina was expecting him to growl, to demand who they were and why they were hear, order for their demise. But no. He instead began to chuckle with a sinister grin on his face. It was chilling. 

"Deadlock," the name rolled off of his metal tongue as he spoke. "How nice of you to join us,"

Deadlock? A pulse of panic erupted in Hina's spark and it carried over to Drift through the bond. He was feeling anxious, afraid even. Hina then realized that Drift knew this Predacon. Not from his Autobot life. 

But from his time as a Decepticon Warrior. 

"Now that you're here, we can finally tear this system apart together. . ." 

"What do you mean, tear this system apart?" Drift pursued in question, repeating the statement. 

"I mean I plan to strip it bare," The Predacon leader elaborated. "I need to fortify my position, increase the Decepticon military presence in this region,"

"For what?" The samurai asked.

"To end this war," he stated.

"The war is over," Ratchet clarified as he took a step forward.

The Predacon leader didn't seem to like that. His optics shifted to peer over to the Autobot medic, glaring daggers at him. 

Has he been living under a rock this entire time? Does he truly not know that war between the Autobots and Decepticons is over? Now it was starting to make sense on why Drift went down to rescue Grit. There wasn't a need for any more unnecessary bloodshed. 

"You know Megatron as well as I do. Tell me, Deadlock, is this war over?" The Predacon asked, turning his attention back to Drift. 

"I'm not Deadlock," Drift shook his helm. "Not anymore,"

"Bah," The Predacon spat as he waved the statement off as if it were a fly in his face. "If I'm to conquer this system I need to increase my numbers. You were here centuries ago with Turmoil. You spoke of a vast army, hidden here, ripe for the taking," 

Turmoil? He was the commander Drift led under during his time with the Decepticons. He was a cruel mech, aggressive and assertive. 

"Drift. . ." Hina quietly called out to him, her voice wavering with caution. 

She didn't like anything this Decepticon was saying. What exactly did he do all these years ago. She felt another pulse through their spark bond. A mental note of him reassuring her that everything would be fine. Though deep down she could sense a hint of fear. 

"Megatron refused to see its usefulness then. However, I need that army. . . now," The Predacon growled. "I've searched this planet high and low and found nothing!"

He turned back to face Drift once more, balling his servo into a fist. 

"You know where it is, Deadlock; You will tell me where it is and we will use it t prepare ourselves for the coming conflict," 

"I told you," Drift sighed with agitation. "I'm no longer--"

"Enough!" The Predacon screamed, pointing a finger at the Autobot as he got up in his face. "Enough with your lies!"

The sound startled Hina as she jumped in her place, the chains of her shackles rattling. Whoever this Predacon was, he may not be Megatron, but he sounded just as terrifying as him. 

"You're not one of those Autobot-- things!" He remarked, growling at the thought of Deadlock mingling with the opposite faction. 

"Listen--" Ratchet stepped forward again, trying to reason with the Predacon but he wasn't having any of it. 

He reached out and grabbed Ratchet's face as the medic's blue optics twinkled in fear, shimmering in the low light of the torches. "They're not like us, Deadlock. They're nothing like us,"

The Predacon lifted Ratchet up from the floor, his pedes dangling before tossing him back down with a swift move of his arm. Ratchet landed on his side, his metal armour colliding with the hard stone floor. 

"Ratchet!" Hina stepped away from her Decepticon guard, kneeling next to medic as she anxiously checked him for any highly damaging wounds. When it looked like he was alright, Hina averted her gaze to Drift, looking at him with scared and desperate optics. "What is--" 

"Wait," The Predacon suddenly faltered, freezing. "I sense something,"

His auditory sensors sniffed the air, and once he caught on to a particular scent, his gaze hovered towards Drift. "Your bond," he paused momentarily before his optics turned to the side, landing directly on Hina's frame. "With her," 

Her spark fluttered a beat faster than usual as a chill crawled up her spine. Her knees began to quake as the Predacon took a step closer towards her. Drift shifted his gaze between the pair and quickly put together what was about to happen. His optics widened as his lips snarled, trying to intervene but was held back by two Decepticon guards. "Stop!"

"Your bond with her is strong," the Predacon purred, snatching the femme by the throat as he dangled her in the air above Ratchet's body. "Quite strong," 

Hina whimpered at his touch, the sheer strength he possessed was intimidating enough.  She grasped her servos onto his, trying to pull, struggle herself free but to no avail. Slowly he could feel his grip getting tighter. Alerts and senors went off on her HUD before her optics. 

"STOP!" Drift shouted, pulling himself free from the guards as he stepped towards the Predacon. "I'll show you where it is. Just let them go. The army, it's here on this planet. Just let them go!"

Hina could feel the Predacon's grip loosen only slightly, but it was enough for her to actual see straight and not blips of static go off every other second in her optics. 

"You will do as I say? You will end your charade?" He asked. 

"I will," Drift answered calmly, balling his servos into fists in order to stop them from shaking. 

The Predacon huffed as he dropped Hina, tossing her beside his Ratchet's body. He turned, marching back up the steps towards his throne. Drift bolted over towards the pair, placing a hand on Ratchet's shoulder to check on the medic. Once he knew Ratchet was alright, he focused his full attention to Hina. There were dents made into her neck and right shoulder, but it wasn't nothing Ratchet could easily repair, heck even Drift could easily do it. 

"Are you alright?" He asked in a whisper, his spark pulsing apologetically through the bond, sending another pulse of relief. 

"I'll live," Hina sighed, glancing up into his optics as the pulse radiated into her spark, warming her chest armour plate. She rested her helm against his only for a moment. His presence was the only thing that kept her in control of her emotions. Only slightly. "What do we do?"

Drift glanced over to the Predacon sitting back in his throne, chatting quietly with one of his advisers. He took her arm and wrapped it around his shoulders, gently pulling her back up to her pedes. "I'm working on it,"