"Because you don’t notice the light without a bit of shadow. Everything has both dark and light."
-Libba Bray
A digit thumped his head. He struggled, unable to get his servos free. The owner of the sharp-ended finger chuckled, voice rough and deep. "Let me go!" he snarled, his own voice sharp and more mechanical.
He'd only been wandering through the Nexus when he'd been jumped. He still wasn't entirely sure why or how, but he was knocked into stasis. When he woke up, he was somewhere he didn't recognize. The innards of a ship, it looked like, and the deck creaked noisily every time he moved. Eventually his bot-knapper arrived.
And kept thumping him in the head. It was a surprisingly unattractive creature, olive green and black with black-and-white warpaint on its face. Large spikes adorned it's shoulders and neck, and one servo had been replaced with a wicked hook. If there had ever been pirate Cybertronians, he would have dreamed them up to look like that. All the other Transformer was missing was a patch over one red optic.
It chuckled again at him. "Not so fast, kid." He was poked and prodded, and would have blushed if he was truly capable. This was violating and demeaning and only made him thrash more. "Don't make me get the stasis cuffs," it warned, tapping one of his back servos with that hook. "Never heard of those, huh? Not surprised. You were never a protoform, were you."
He was getting tired of all this. Tired and angry and if he got free he wouldn't stop hitting the other Cybertronian until its face was nothing but painted scrap metal. He flexed his arms as much as he could, trying to express a glare. It was difficult, when your eyes were two V-shaped optical bars stretching along your face. "What do you want with me?"
"Not your primary modifications, that's for sure. You don't have any. Maybe there's something useful in your processor, though." The hook slammed into the back of his head almost casually and he whimpered in pain. "Oh, buck up. You whine like a sparkling."
He shook his head, thrashing again. "Decepticon... punk. I have nothing you could want. Nothing that the B- that Starscream could want." A heavy strut planted in the middle of his back and he slammed face-first into the deck, the metal squealing an indignant protest. As soon as he turned his head, he was face-to-face with his captor. The bastard looked positively smug.
"What were you about to call him? Either way, I'm not a Decepticon." The face disappeared, replaced by the dark strut that had planted him in such an awkward position. "Funny that you assume that."
"The Autobots would never treat a fellow Cybertr-" he started, but was cut off by a swift kick in his chassis.
"You're not a Cybertronian, kid. Anyone could tell that. And if I'm not wrong, your architecture isn't so different from Megatron's. The Autobots don't take kindly to 'Con-formed." The gravelly voice lowered to a whisper. "Especially not ones that are hackers. Especially not hackers that tamper with the documents of their precious human governments. Face it, you're in the same boat as me, sparkling."
He twisted to look up at him, finally getting a real sense of how much taller the other Transformer was. "My name is DISPENSOR, you waste of scrap metal! And I don't care how you know what I do, I do it to protect us all. If they knew, we would all be on ice like NBE-01 was."
He was pushed onto his back, which squashed his two back servos. He managed to keep from wincing. "Sure we would, 'Pen. You're just as bad as the rest of us, no matter how you justify it. In the end, both sides'd slag your tailpipe if they caught you, and that's the truth. Their war is more important to them than some little sparkling who plays at being a big bot. Speaking of. My boss wanted me to collect you; wants to see you. You gonna go quietly, kiddo?"
"You have a funny way of asking," he groused.
"Then you don't want me telling you you're coming quietly."
"... Sparkless dog."
"That's Lockdown, kid. Siddown and shut up. And quit giving me that look."