Airazor left the building, and walked calmly down the sidewalk until she was certain that no one on the bottom floors could see her. She then found the nearest spent can of Energon, and vented her frustrations on it in the form of a kick. She was lucky it did not find a window as it soared away.

Stupid snooty N2 Bureau. Too high-and-mighty to give me a job, feh. I don’t even need their stupid chic chips.

Airazor supposed she could have played the “dad” card- referencing Sky Lynx usually got a few ooos and aaahs- but there was no guarantee it would get her a job, and it would make her look desperate, and she absolutely, positively wanted nothing to do with him ever. But perhaps a job at the N2 Bureau would have been worth the infraction on her moral code- she’d definitely have something to brag about to her classmates, she’d score chic chips on the cheap, and maybe- just maybe- she might get published in the N2 Datazine. Of course, that’d come with the risk of the headline involving her father’s name, and not hers, so maybe it would be a better idea to avoid the attention…

She paused, realizing that her feet had carried her far from where she had started, and she’d been deep enough in thought to ignore where she was going. She was far from the N2 Bureau now; the sidewalk had led her into a tunnel-like alley formed by the arching buildings overhead. It was not a place she wished to linger in any longer than she had to, so Airazor elected to sprint through the rest of the way, and take to the sky when she could. This plan ultimately failed, thanks to the sudden appearance of a large bot between her and her exit. She skidded to a stop.

“Well, lookit that,” he growled. “Some pretty young thing picked the wrong way back from the N2 Bureau.” He removed a pistol from underneath an armor plate, and aimed it squarely at her face.

The fluid in her system ran cold. “W-what?”

“Hand over your credits, now,” snarled the mugger, the servos in his arm flexing around the weapon. “Daddy must have sent you to the Bureau with plenty of ‘em.”

“B-but… I went to the N2 Bureau to check on an application- I don’t have any!”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” snapped Airazor, suddenly feeling emboldened. Emboldened enough to play the “dad” card. “And my daddy is Sky Lynx, the Autobot supersoldier! So why don’t you turn around and run before you do something to make my connections more angry than they already are?”

“Like I’m gonna believe that load of scrap,” said the mugger. “I don’t care who your parents really are. But I bet they’ve got money, even if you don’t.”

“And what’s that going to do for you? You don’t know where they live, you can’t steal anything from them!”

“And that’s where you’re wrong, kid. We’ve got you, don’t we?”

“W-we?”

Large hands clamped over her shoulders from behind and lifted her off the ground. A voice like grinding gears blasted through her audio receptors.

“Whaddya think, Chop Shop? Standard ransom? Or the black market? Aren’t fliers all the rage right now?”

“Yeah, they are, aren’t they?” answered the first mugger. “What’d that pull, couple hundred thousand?”

“Oh, but she’s cute,” roared the larger mech behind her. “Four hundred thousand, easy.”

“Chassis market it is, then,” howled Chop Shop, converting into a small hauler. The mech that held her transformed as well, and Airazor was pulled into a painfully-cramped cargo bay.

The chassis market… they’ll rip out my spark and processors, and sell me for parts!

“Stop squirming around in there,” seethed the grating voice of her captor, as stasis clamps emerged from the cargo bay’s walls to fasten her limbs to the floor. As each heavy clamp locked itself into place, her servos froze up- there was no escape. Terror gave way to remorse.

If I had just paid attention, I wouldn’t have been in this mess. Or maybe if I put in an application somewhere else! Oh, Primus, I’m dead. I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m dead. This is it.

Further consideration left her with a far more pleasant thought.

That’s what my dad gets for leaving. His little girl gets killed. Are you sorry now, you worthless piece of scrap?

For a moment, Airazor smiled. All of those stellar cycles she spent arguing with her mother over that mech had finally paid off. She was right, and had been all along. Then, she remembered the fate that her captors were dragging her towards.

I don’t think I like being right.

The reality of the situation sunk in- she was immobilized in the back of a hauler-mech, who was taking her to be killed. She had no means of escape, and no way to call for help. The police probably had no idea that she had been kidnapped at all. Airazor thought of Split-S and her classmates, the coy glances from mechs at the Energon cafes, the feeling of soaring through canyons and under bridges. She did not want to die- she had to escape.

A brief test of all her extremities revealed that the stasis clamps were indeed working- her legs and arms were completely unresponsive. However, there was no clamp around her neck, or head, or her torso. She strained her servos and lifted her head as far up as she could to survey her surroundings. This kidnapper was bigger than the one who had mugged her, by a large margin. She guessed he had two cargo bays, tops, arranged front-to-back in standard hauler configuration. Which one she was in, she couldn’t tell, but it there was enough light to tell it was filthy. She could also hear the mech’s engines rumbling, and the whine of the roadway beneath his wheels. They were moving, maybe at highway speeds- though jumping out certainly wasn’t an option for her, anyway.

“Scrap,” she groaned, slumping back to the floor of the cargo bay, feeling the familiar mass of her jet mode’s engines between her shoulders. Her mother had always told her that her transformat was very odd for a flier; that it probably came from her father. She would then wax poetically for a few cycles on how much the Autobot science division had done to make Sky Lynx so strong, and how it was a miracle that her protoform had been defect-free. Her classmates had told her that her appearance, though unconventional, was quite striking, which was an opinion she valued much more than her mother’s obsessive ranting.

My jets are on my back. My back is on the floor.

“Hey,” she said, loud enough to be heard over the droning engines of her captor.

“What?” growled the mech.

“It doesn’t feel very safe back here,” she said, choosing her words carefully.

“That’s ‘cause it ain’t.”

“Like, is this even heat-resistant?”

“No! Now shut up!”

Airazor was content to stop talking, because she had a plan. His insides weren’t heat-resistant, but she was.

Let’s see how you like this.

She adjusted her throttles to maximum, and lit her engines. To Airazor, it was a pleasant warmth under her back. But her captor experienced a sensation much closer to his insides melting, which was in fact what was happening.

“GAAAAAARGH!” he screamed, and Airazor felt the cargo bay shift in place- he was swerving.

The voice of her other kidnapper echoed faintly outside. “What’s happening back there, Gutcruncher?”

“OH, PRIMUS, AAAAAAARRRGH!”

Airazor did not relent, and kicked on her afterburners. The jets continued to melt two parallel trenches into the floor of Gutcruncher’s cargo bay- Airazor couldn’t see their progress, but she could hear his wails of pain become more intense. She was getting close to vitals.

“She’s doin’ something, ain’t she?”

“UNNNAAAAGGHHHYESSHEIS,” screamed Gutcruncher.

“Stay in your own lane, for Primus’ sake,” said Chop Shop. “I’ll shut her up.”

Airazor twisted her body as much as she could, redirecting her jets to deal more damage. They began to eat through the floor below her- the warmth was intense enough now that it was no longer pleasant. Still, she kept them burning. If Gutcruncher didn’t release the stasis clamps, she was still trapped, and now they had a very good reason to kill her before they got to their destination. The back wall of the bay split, folding back to reveal the road racing away from her. From her bindings on the floor, Airazor couldn’t make out much, other than the receding skyline of downtown Iacon, and a familiar rust-colored hauler working its way up the lane. It was Chop Shop- and the barrel of his pistol had now sprouted from his vehicle mode’s roof.

“This’ll teach ya,” he cackled, releasing a short burst of bullets into the cargo bay. At that moment, the floor beneath Airazor’s body gave way, her jets having finally liquefied it. This resulted in her dropping down into Gutcruncher’s undercarriage as Chop Shop’s bullets whizzed overhead- punching holes through her captor. She cut her engines in relief.

“YOU SHOT MEEEEE,” roared Gutcruncher.

“Aw, scrap I- she just dropped through- are you OK?”

“…HIT… SOMETHING,” grated the larger hauler. Since she was currently stuck hanging awkwardly beneath him, Airazor could clearly observe his own engines winding down, in addition to the road speeding along frightfully close to her backside. Still, she was much safer than she was a moment ago.

“Take that, you slagging creeps!” she cheered, throwing her fist in the air triumphantly.

Wait, my hand was in the stasis-clamp.

Airazor realized what had happened just as another heavy click sounded, and a great pressure was removed from her other wrist. She barely had time to grab the jagged edge of the remaining floor as it slipped out of the stasis clamp. She quickly shoved her feet into the recesses of the floor as their stasis clamps disengaged, keeping herself suspended above the road below.

“She dropped through, huh,” huffed Chop Shop. “Okay, hang tight, Gutcruncher, I’m going to put her down.”

The floor jolted as something heavy landed above her- Chop Shop had entered Gutcruncher’s cargo bay.

If I drop out the bottom, I’ll get hit by whoever’s driving behind us.

Since down was impossible, the only option that remained was up. She moved her throttles back to maximum as the rust-colored mech crawled over where she hung.

“Okay, you little piece of scrap, I didn’t want to put a bullet through your pretty face.”

“And I didn’t want to do this,” snarled Airazor, firing her jets again. She surged up out of the floor and wrapped her arms around Chop Shop’s torso, carrying him back out of Gutcruncher’s cargo bay and into the sky. Airazor didn’t bother trying to figure out where she was. She was scared and hurt and tired and she wanted the mech that put her through it dead, so she aimed for the nearest skyscraper and crashed headlong into it, her kidnapper softening the collision. Her jets still aflame, she eased back far enough to kick the still-dazed mech in the face.

“Just kidding,” she gasped, “I did want to do that.”

“You little glitch,” he wheezed. “I’m gonna…”

“What? Snap my neck? Ha! Take one step and you’ll-“

“Fall,” he yelped, tumbling forward. Airazor screamed as he grabbed her ankle, her jets now too low on Energon to use her afterburners. She began to slowly sink downwards, her kidnapper thrashing wildly below her.

Airazor attempted to dislodge him by stomping on his face, but to no avail. “Get OFF!”

Chop Shop refused to follow her instructions, instead raising his pistol towards her. He fired, missing her narrowly.

“IF YOU SLAG ME WE’RE BOTH GONNA DIE, YOU IDIOT!”

“That’s what you think,” roared Chop Shop, taking a break from the pot-shots to wave his pistol at his side. Airazor looked down, trying to find what he was signaling- a dull-green hauler was trundling towards them, leaking smoke. “Gutcruncher! Up here! Help!”

“Hey- no, no, no!” wailed Airazor, swinging her captured leg, still unable to remove her passenger, who forced his gun upwards, using her limb as a guide for his arm. The weapon, neatly propped up along her thigh, was aimed straight at her abdomen.

“If you don’t land right this second, I’m gonna shoot a hole through you so big, you could fly a Metrotitan through it.”

Low on fuel and without any means to defend herself, Airazor descended to the street below, where a damaged Gutcruncher was transforming slowly and painfully. As she touched down, Chop Shop quickly put his larger size to good use, and forced her to the ground with one hand.

“Oh, you better be worth every credit,” he snarled. “Or I’m gonna spend so long killing you, you’ll wish I just blew your processor out.”

“I-I think you shot up a fluid line,” coughed Gutcruncher, placing a hand on his torso.

“Whatever. ‘Tek will fix you up once we bring our haul in. He always does.”

“Now, when you say ‘Tek’, you’re talking about that malfunction Cryotek, right?” said a voice from the road behind them. Airazor carefully managed to turn her head towards the sound just before Chop Shop decided to pin her with his foot instead. Advancing down the road was another hauler, this one bright red, and armored. It transformed into a tall, broad mech with massive shoulders, a wrinkled, grinning face, and a distinctive emblem on his chest- an Autobot.

“Oh, scrap,” gasped Gutcruncher. “We should run.”

“No way. The Autobots are a bunch of pushovers, and this one looks like he’s a couple cycles away from complete shutdown. Back off, old man! I gotta piece and I ain’t afraid to use it!”

“Oh, dear,” laughed the Autobot. “You’re right. I think I can feel my spark slipping away! I’ll put you kids in my will, if you just change your evil ways!”

“Slag off, gramps,” cursed Chop Shop, landing a shot between the Autobot’s optics. Airazor felt the boot over her back lighten as a flattened smudge of metal tumbled away from his brow. The smile on his wizened face grew wider.

“Kid, you shouldn’t have done that.”

The Autobot took off at a sprint much faster than his years would suggest him capable of, flinging one of his huge shoulders into Gutcruncher’s already-damaged torso. The kidnapper’s mouth quickly became a fountain of internal fluids, as he tumbled forward onto his hands. The Autobot set his sights on Chop Shop next, who decided to make a stand. He removed his foot from Airazor’s back and countered his opponent with a charge of his own, the two locking arms around each other, attempting to upset the other’s balance.

This was Airazor’s chance to flee, but as she lay, bruised and battered on the ground, she couldn’t help but be fascinated by the Autobot’s amazing strength. The two mechs struggled briefly, but soon the elder rearranged his footing and hoisted Chop Shop over his shoulder, plunging him back into the street with enough force to shatter the pavement.

“You’re young, but you ain’t spunky,” he chortled, dusting off his hands. “Disappointing.”

“You got another thing coming, old man,” snarled the wounded Gutcruncher, rising from the ground to bring his fists down upon the Autobot. The red mech managed to raise his own arms and block the attack, but skidded backwards under its force.

“Okay, for someone with a bunch of slush where your insides should be, you hit kind of hard,” said the old Autobot cheerily.

“Ghaag,” moaned Gutcruncher, the effort from his attack having depleted what little strength he had left. As he fell forward, the Autobot’s boot connected with his chest, sending him sliding back down the street. The red mech turned back around, and found the barrel of Chop Shop’s pistol on his forehead.

“Oh, you’re a little scared now, are you, geezer? You know that you can’t stop this bullet if I fire it at point blank, don’t you? Active Armor doesn’t work fast enough.”

“Okay, kid, you got me,” he said, raising his hands and placing them behind his head.

“Why are you still smiling, old man? Dying sound kinda funny to you?”

“No, it’s not that,” he grinned. “It’s funny how you forgot what you came here for.”

Chop Shop gasped as his pistol arm was twisted behind him, his overtaxed wrist servos unwillingly triggering his hand to release the weapon. The gun was whisked away by a screaming Airazor, who kicked the remaining kidnapper’s knee joint in. He fell to the ground, flopping wildly until Airazor’s small boot was placed on his chest.

“How’s that feel, lowlife?”

Chop Shop began to say something, but gave up, and decided to moan in pain instead.

“I’ll call in the police to cart these two away. Hopefully, they’ll help us track down Cryotek once and for all,” said the Autobot, crossing his large arms in front of his chest.

“I’m… glad that I could help,” gasped Airazor, who still had not caught her breath.

“Help? You did more than help, kid. I tried to get to you fast, but I ain’t as quick as I used to be- I saw you bust out on the freeway back there. You were incredible. What’s your name?”

“Airazor,” she replied.

“Airazor, huh?” He placed his hand on his chin, and ran his optics across her carefully.

“Um, what are you doing?”

“I’m imagining you wearing the Autobrand.”

That was the name of the symbol on his chest, and the same one the plaque above the doorway at her home. “The… Autobrand?”

“That’s right. Airazor, how would you like to be an Autobot?”