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He woke when he bounced off the ground and heard the skreel of metal against metal. Orion groaned, optics flickering as he rebooted them and instantly shied away from the brightness of Hadeen peering down at him. He tested his limbs and found his arms bound behind him as they had been when he'd lost consciousness earlier.
“What is this?”
“A gift!”
“Why would I want a grounder? It's dirty.”
“Nah! He just needs a little cleaning up.”
Dark purple and black limbs moved into view. Orion's vision fizzed with static again but not before he saw the foot come his direction. It pressed against his shoulder, pushed him to his back, and then planted on his chestplate. His hands ached, trapped beneath his frame.
Vision returned. Above him were two Seekers. One, Skywarp, he knew. The other any grounder had learned to recognize. To fear.
The Winglord.
“Ugh. You actually used it?” The Winglord's lip curled with derision as he circled around Orion.
Skywarp cackled. “Yep. You should give him a try. He's small. Nice and tight. Well, maybe a little bit less now that I'm done with him.”
Orion groaned, rebooting his vocalizer with a crackle of static. “Please,” he said. “Let me go.”
“Shut up,” Skywarp snapped, grinding down with his pede, Orion's chestplate buckling inward. He then beamed at the Winglord. “Gets a little mouthy, sometimes. Almost like he's got rights or something.”
“Hmm.” The Winglord's frown deepened, but his optics cycled down, crimson and bright as they stared at Orion. “You should put it back where it came from. I have no use for it.”
He turned with a flick of his wing, clearly dismissing. Orion dared feel a spark of relief. If Skywarp actually obeyed, then maybe he could go home and never return to the surface again.
“Awww.”
“Now, Skywarp. And before Thundercracker gets back. You know how fine-tuned his olfactory sensors are.”
“He doesn't stink!” Skywarp protested and removed his pede from Orion's chestplate, reaching down to pick him up with all too much ease. “Well, not that much.” He held Orion up and peered at him. “You're all kinds of useless, aren't you?”
Orion didn't dignify that with a response.
Skywarp sighed. “Oh, well. I don't feel like flying you all the way back though. You can find your own way home, right?”
It was better than being dead. Orion would take what he could get.
“Wait.”
Orion tensed. Skywarp bounced and turned.
“Change your mind?”
The Winglord returned, only this time he grabbed Orion's chin with his taloned hands and turned his helm to the left and right. His optics darkened.
“Hmm.”
“I knew it.” Skywarp chuckled. “You're interested. I can tell.”
“It's an ugly little thing,” the Winglord said, but there was something calculating in his optics. “But something tells me it's more than it seems.” His thumb brushed Orion's audial, over his familial glyph inscriptions. “We'll keep it.”
Orion tried to jerk his face free. “No!” he cried, twisting away, but both Seeker's grips were unbreakable. “You can't do that!”
“I can do whatever I wish, grounder. And I say that right now, you belong to me.” The Winglord's thumb dragged along the curve of Orion's jaw before pressing on his lips. “You knew your place. You chose to come into the light. This is no one's fault but your own.”
Orion started to shake all over again. His valve ached from Skywarp's attention alone. He couldn't imagine that the Winglord would be any better. Nor his aforementioned third, Thundercracker.
Skywarp grinned. “I knew you'd like him.”
“Yes. Occasionally you do have good ideas.” The Winglord smirked. “Now why don't you clean it up before Thundercracker returns and we can all see about breaking it in?”
Skywarp cheered.
Orion's spark dropped into his tanks.
He would never see his home again.