Earth. Nearly 15,000 years ago.

The planet was in the middle of a world-wide deep freeze. There was a thick sheet of ice that seemed to coat the entire planet, plunging it into an eternal winter. And still, even in this unforgiving environment, life continued to thrive. It was for this reason that Earth had become a place of interest for the Cybertronian Organic Research Division, or CORD for short.

CORD was a science division made up of Autobots fascinated with non-cybernetic based life forms. Among their ranks was the group leader Preceptor, followed by his three associates Wheeljack, Grapple, and Hoist. The four bots all manned their posts, scanning the planet with increasing interest.

"This is absolutely fascinating." Wheeljack commented as his optical sensors scanned the readouts. "Despite nearly 95% of the planet being covered in ice, I'm still picking up sporadic signs of life."

"Incredible." Grapple exclaimed, his fascination evident in his voice. "These organics must be resilient survivors."

"We'll need to collect a sample of any vegetation we can find." Preceptor suggested. "With it, perhaps we can better understand how this planet is still functioning."

"What about the other organic life?" Hoist asked. "The creatures indigenous to this sector?"

"What about them?" A groggy voice near the rear of the ship voiced.

The other Autobots turned to see Ratchet, a med bot they brought along on the mission in case one of them got injured. He was not as enthusiastic about the expedition as the rest of them, a fact that he had been more than willing to remind the crew.

"Well, wouldn't it be a good idea to bring along one of the primitive lifeforms of this planet?" Hoist clarified. "It would be the perfect chance to study their habits and capacity to learn."

Ratchet scoffed again, crossing his arms irritably. He was no fan of organic life, having witnessed more than his fair share of Autobots that had succumbed to some form of organic damage.

"Learn what?" The cranky med-bot questioned. "These primitive life forms are little more than a virus."

Preceptor just shook his head.

"Ratchet, we all have heard the story of organic life and the effect it has had on any Cybertronians that come into contact with it." He remarked. "That's why we need to learn everything we can about it, and Hoist's suggestion is a valid one. Having a living specimen to study could broaden our understanding of non-cybernetic lifeforms for stellar cycles to come."

"If you say so." Ratchet dismissed with a wave of his hand.

The med bot walked away as Grapple sighed. He crossed his arms as the door to the deck closed behind the retreating Autobot.

"Y'know, one of these days, that bot is gonna find something that pierces through his rusted out spark." Grapple remarked.

"Don't hold your code on that one." Hoist responded walking over to him. "That bot's a hard case to crack."

"Enough chatter." Preceptor interrupted, returning to their mission. "Prepare for landing."

Everyone went silent as they returned to their stations, beginning the landing procedures.

...

Down on the surface, a small tribe of humans gathered around a large camp fire, heating up some of the meat that the hunters had managed to bring back. Among these humans was a small girl, no older than 5 or 6 years old. She ran around the camp, smiling and laughing the entire time. The adults of the tribe watched her with kind smiles, rewarding her actions with small chuckles of their own.

However, the merriment soon ended as a strange rumbling echoed through the icy air. Fearing the noise to be from the many predators that stalked through the wilderness, the men all grabbed their weapons as the women rounded up the children. The young girl, however, managed to evade the attempts to catch her, darting into the bushes towards the source of the noise.

In a clearing not far from the human's encampment, the CORD ship touched down in the snow, much to its crew's excitement. Once they grabbed all their necessary equipment, they opened the hatch doors and set out to explore.

"Ratchet, you guard the ship." Preceptor ordered.

"With pleasure." Ratchet responded. "Remember to keep this excursion short. Prolonged exposure to these temperatures will freeze your circuits and cause total system shutdown."

Preceptor chuckled.

"And here I thought I was the one in charge." He remarked good-naturedly

...

The young girl watched in fascination as large creatures unlike any she had seen before descended from the belly of the strange beast they arrived in. As the last seemed to leave, the girl felt brave enough to leave her hiding place, brandishing a small spear for protection. Remembering the basics of hunting that her father had taught her, the girl slunk forward, keeping her body low as to avoid detection.

As she got closer to the strange beast, she held her staff in front of her, poking at its large tongue (the ramp leading inside). It made a strange sound, unlike anything the girl had heard before. It almost sounded like an echo in a cave, but with a higher pitch. Still, the strange tongue did not move, or show any sign that it noticed it was being poked. Confused, the girl ventured up the creature's tongue and into the belly of the beast itself.

...

Ratchet kept a steady eye on the life sign transmissions that he was receiving from the rest of the crew. It gave him something to do while he waited for them to return from their foolhardy mission. He let a small snort as he sat down, just staring at the monitors.

"Why did I agree to this?" he wondered aloud.

As he sat there, he felt something poke at his lower, right servo, a barely audible clicking accompanying the sensation. He ignored it, figuring he'd probably just brushed up against something. Then it happened a second time. Furrowing his faceplate, he looked down to see the cause of the sensation. Much to his surprise, he saw a tiny organic life form poking him with a stone tied to a stick.

"What in-"

He bent down as the creature leaned against his leg, knocking on it curiously with its tiny fists. She seemed to be listening to the echo caused by its actions. He should have been more than a little put off by the organic currently assaulting his foot, but instead, he found himself more curious then worried.

"Where did you come from?" he asked

The creature seemed to jump at the sound of his voice, looking up in shock. As if on instinct, the creature pointed its crude weapon up at him, waving it like it was a threat to him. It then began to yell at him, its words not making any sense to the Autobot, though its intent was clear.

"Strange little bug."

Ratchet flicked the weapon away from the creature, cutting off its unintelligible verbal threats. It quickly recovered its weapon, then looked up at the Autobot in what was supposed to be a threatening way, but it was obvious this creature was more curious than afraid.

"Ratchet!" the med bot heard Wheeljack call out.

The creature suddenly squeaked, hiding behind Ratchet's leg while still clutching that strange weapon. Ratchet quickly sat up, turning his attention back to the monitors while mentally cursing himself for getting distracted.

"You're back." Ratchet took note, his optic sensors never leaving the screens.

"We managed to find some pockets of vegetation, but the organic life forms seemed quite skittish of us." Grapple explained, his arms loaded with jars of different plants. "They all scattered before we could collect any."

"Though a few tried to throw these strange projectiles that they had created at us." Wheeljack noted, dropping a handful of spears into a specimen jar. "I suppose they must have seen us as a threat."

Ratchet found himself suddenly hyper aware of the tiny organic hiding behind his foot.

"I can't imagine why." Ratchet responded sarcastically, trying to think of anything but the creature.

Preceptor came aboard, followed by Hoist who closed the door behind him. He placed a few more specimen jars in their holders, including a few empty ones.

"I guess we'll have to return later for an organic specimen." Preceptor lamented. "But for now, we'll just have to make do with the vegetation we procured."

There was the sound of tiny footsteps, and Ratchet quickly noticed the tiny creature was no longer behind his foot. Instead, it seemed to be aiming its primitive weapon at Preceptor. It then threw the weapon with all its might, only for it to bounce off Preceptor without making a dent. However, the action did not go unnoticed by the Autobot. He turned, looking around curiously.

"What was that?" He questioned.

The little organic then let out a shout, drawing the attention of everyone. They all looked down to see it standing there, looking up at them with a curious look in its eye.

"Well," Preceptor said, turning to the small organic. "What have we here?"

It stumbled back a bit, its curiosity faltering as it stumbled back, running right into Ratchet's foot. She scrambled on top of the foot, leaning against Ratchet's leg as Hoist bend down.

"Ratchet, I do believe you have made a new friend." He quipped, giving the organic a quick scan.

"For your information, I did not make 'a new friend'." Ratchet replied indignantly. "This organic came onto the ship and attempted to threaten me with its little weapon."

"Well, you have to see this from its perspective." Hoist retorted. "We're large creatures that it has probably never seen before, so some hostility is to be expected."

"Though something tells me this one is more curious than hostile." Wheeljack noted. "Any idea what it is?"

"It seems to be a female humanoid, one of the organic life forms indigenous to this planet." Hoist remarked.

"And a young one at that." Grapple added. "She's far tinier than the ones we saw earlier."

"What are we gonna do with her?" Wheeljack asked.

The organic remained on Ratchet's leg, staring at the Autobots before smiling, giving a tiny wave. The med-bot lifted his foot, moving slowly so the organic didn't fall off.

"Hand me one of those specimen jars." He requested.

Preceptor snatched one from the shelf quickly, passing it to Ratchet. Still doing his best to maintain balance, he gently ushered the organic into the jar. She landed with a soft thud, looking around in fascination at the jar. As she acquainted herself with her new surroundings, Ratchet passed the jar to Wheeljack.

"You wanted an organic lifeform," he commented, gesturing to the small jar. "Well now you got one."

The four bot's looked at each other in surprise, then a smile graced their faceplates. Wheeljack held the jar still as the organic stared out at them, her eyes locking on Ratchet.

"Well then," Preceptor concluded. "I believe we are done here. Hoist, Grapple, prepare for takeoff. Wheeljack, help me secure the specimens."

"Right." Wheeljack confirmed as the others went to their stations.

As Ratchet went to return to his station, he found himself looking back at the specimen jars in Wheeljack's possession. The little organic didn't seem afraid at all, despite the fact that she was leaving her home planet, possibly for good. In fact, she seemed to be smiling, waving at Ratchet as Wheeljack walked off with her. Ratchet just ignored it as he went back to his work.

...

Back on Cybertron, the CORD scientists worked quickly to get their latest acquisitions into the safety of their facility. Cybertron's carbon monoxide atmosphere was deadly to organic lifeforms, and the last thing they wanted was for their sole sentient lifeform to perish. Thankfully, CORD was fully equipped with a biodome that was teeming with organic vegetation from various planets.

The specimen jars containing the earth plants were brought in and their contents added to the ever growing gallery of organic life. Then, Wheeljack brought in the little organic. From inside her specimen jar, she gasped at the sight of all the plants and animals. Preceptor noticed this and smiled.

"It would seem she's quite pleased with her new home." He commented.

"Her planet has been under a deep freeze for many stellar cycles." Hoist reminded him. "She may not have ever seen a place as green as our biodome."

Wheeljack released the lid of the jar, gently sliding the organic onto the ground. Once more, she landed with a thump, and once more she didn't seem even the slightest bit phased. She picked herself up off the ground before scampering off to explore. She climbed up the trees, peered in the bushes, and even explored the small stone cave that had been setup to shield the plants that preferred the dark. From the large grin on her face, it seemed she was quite pleased with it all. She attempted to express her feelings, but once more, her words were unfamiliar to her new caretakers.

"Remarkable specimen isn't it?" Preceptor asked.

"Quite." Wheeljack agreed. "Though the question arises, how are we going to provide it the nutrients it requires?"

"Already working on that." Hoist declared. "Scans of some of the plant life show that it is capable of producing matter fit for consumption by the organic. Using the lab's molecular reproduction machine, I can easily recreate enough sustenance for the human to consume."

"Impressive." Wheeljack complimented.

"Well if you don't need me anymore," Ratchet started to say. "I'll best be going."

"Oh come on, Ratchet." Grapple called. "Stick around for a bit. We were going to go down to the Energon pub to celebrate our latest findings."

The little organic seemed to furrow her brow, looking at the Autobots as they continued to talk.

"As 'tempting' as that sounds," Ratchet responded sarcastically. "I have some work I need to attend to."

He turned to walk out, but before he could, the organic spoke out once more. However, this time her message was understood by all.

"Ratchet!"

Ratchet and the others turned to see the organic hanging upside down from one of the branches of a tall tree, putting her at eye level with the Autobots. She was pointing at the medbot with a determined look.

"Ratchet!" she called out again before speaking in her native tongue once more.

"It can talk?" Ratchet marveled.

"It would appear so." Preceptor replied, equally shocked.

"And it seems to like you Ratchet." Wheeljack observed.

"Ratchet!" The organic declared, only proving Wheeljack correct.

"Seems you really did make a new friend, huh Ratchet." Hoist joked.

Ratchet was puzzled by this to say the least.

"Why me?" he asked.

Preceptor stroked his jaw servo, wondering the same thing.

"Perhaps because you were the first of us it saw, it formed some sort of connection with you."

"That's preposterous." Ratchet scoffed.

"Ratchet!" the human cheered.

The other Autobots chuckled.

"Well, how else would you explain that?" Wheeljack questioned.

"Well.... I..." Ratchet tried to explain.

"Ratchet." The little organic declared once more, pointing at the bot and then at herself. "Friend."

This earned an even greater amount of laughter from the other Autobots as Ratchet's expense. The med-bot felt his faceplate beginning to get warm.

"Yeah." Wheeljack noted. "Definitely likes you."

"Ugh..." Ratchet groaned. "That's it. I'm leaving."

He turned towards the airlock, preparing to leave, but Preceptor grabbed his servo before he could.

"Hang on, Ratchet." he insisted. "If this organic has taken a liking to you, we may be able to use that to our advantage. See how much she can learn, or comprehend. Promise you'll come by the lab, even if it's just once every decacycle."

Ratchet looked back at the organic smiling at him.

"Well..." Ratchet responded reluctantly. "I suppose."

"Yay! Ratchet!" The organic cheered again.

...

About a week later, the organic's mental development had shown to be even greater than the Autobots had anticipated. Preceptor guessed that it was because she was at a young enough age that it would be easy for her to learn. It had been difficult to decide what she would learn first, but they had eventually settled on basic communication skills first, specifically, the alphabet.

The organic was sitting on the ground in her biodome, her arms covered in mud she'd created and was using to write. She was very eager to learn, desperate to be able to communicate with the Autobots, so she paid extra attention.

"Ok," Hoist began to instruct holding a holopad. "Let's start with this."

He pointed to the first letter on the hollow pad and the organic wrote it on the wall of the cave.

"R?" she asked.

"Right." Hoist responded.

The organic smiled as she continued to write. As she did, Ratchet walked into the dome, grumbling about why he was doing this in the first place. His grumbles did not go unheard as Hoist turned to greet him.

"Welcome back Ratchet." The bot called out.

"Yes, yes, hi." Ratchet greeted begrudgingly.

"Ratchet!" The organic called, waving her muddy arms happily.

Hoist just smirked at this.

"Thanks again for agreeing to come." Hoist said gratefully. "I think you'll actually enjoy what I'm teaching the organic today."

"And what might that be?" Ratchet asked.

Hoist chuckled.

"How to spell your name." the bot answered.

Ratchet's optical sensors focused and refocused at that.

"What?" Ratchet asked, truly shocked.

Hoist gave a shrug.

"You seem to be perfect motivation to get her to learn."

"Well..." Ratchet tried to respond.

"Ratchet!" the organic cheered, pointing to the wall of her cave.

Ratchet and Hoist turned to see that the organic had spelled out Ratchet's name on the wall of the cave. However, there appeared to be several spelling mistakes, and the muddy letters were barely legible. Still, she seemed so proud of herself, a large grin on her face as she pointed at her work. Hoist chuckled slightly, rubbing the back of his head.

"Well, it's a work in progress." Hoist explained.

"Ratchet?" The organic called out questioningly. "Wrong?"

"Ugh..." Ratchet paused, rubbing his knuckles against his face plate before coming to a decision. "There's no 'I' in my name."

He then walked over to her cave, squatting down so he could get a closer look. She grinned as he did, plunging her arms into her mud puddle in anticipation.

"There's supposed to be an 'a' after the 'r'." he explained.

The human immediately drew an R, then an A, smiling happily as they awaited their next instruction.

"Then ugh... A 'T'." he resumed, mentally wondering why he was actually doing this.

She wrote out a T, then seemed to squint, as if trying to figure out the next bit on her own. Tentatively, she drew a C, looking up at Ratchet to make sure she got it right.

"Right." Ratchet confirmed. "Then an 'h' to make the 'ch' sound."

She happily drew the H, then started to think again. She went to draw, but found herself unsure if she was right.

"'E'" Ratchet voiced.

The little organic conked herself on the head, mud ending up halfway across her face. She chuckled when that happened, then drew the E. Finally, she added the last letter on her own, a T.

"Ratchet!" she declared happily.

"Right." Ratchet confirmed, smiling unknowingly.

Wheeljack let out a mock gasp as he entered the room.

"Well I'll be." The entering Autobot declared. "Ratchet IS capable of an emotion outside of disdain or annoyance."

Ratchet snapped back to reality and turned to see Wheeljack leaning against a wall with his arms crossed.

"I knew something would pierce that spark of yours." he commented. "Just never thought it would be an organic."

"I... don't know what you're talking about." Ratchet dismissed.

"Admit it, Ratchet." Hoist joked, rubbing the med bot. "You like the organic, don't you."

"Ratchet!" The organic called happily, still covered half in mud.

"I..." Ratchet said trying to think of an excuse. "... Have to go."

With that, he turned and walked out of the biodome, the airlock hissing shut behind him. The organic watched him go, cocking her head curiously.

"Ratchet?" she asked, pointing at the door.

"Don't worry, little organic." Wheeljack reassured. "He'll be back."

...

As Wheeljack predicted, Ratchet did come back. He came back many, many times, usually providing some sort of excuse for his presence. However, as time went on, he just stopped attempting to hide his true intentions for being in the lab. Somehow or another, he'd grown close to the little organic, who was slowly starting to become less and less little. In fact, she'd grown quite a bit in the three stellar cycles since she'd arrived on Cybertron.

As the med-bot entered the CORD laboratory, the organic's face lit up. She jumped out of the tree she had been perched in, landing in the waiting hand of Grapple, who had been continuing with her ever expanding education. He held the organic out for Ratchet, who held out his own hand for her to jump into.

"Hi Ratchet!" the organic called out, plopping down on his palm. "How are you?"

"Doing quite well." Ratchet responded, walking towards the tree she'd just been in. "What are you up to today?"

"Grapple was teaching me about the Autobots and how they work." She explained.

"Well then, guess it's a good thing I came by." Ratchet replied, sliding her off his palm and onto the ground. "Grapple may know his way around organics, but nobody knows Autobots better than me."

"He's right on that one." Grapple agreed. "Ratchet didn't become a Chief Medical officer for nothing."

The little organic climbed up the tree, settling down on a well-worn branch that sat just at eye level with a sitting Ratchet. The old medbot sat down, leaning against the trunk of the tree before he began.

"Now, the first thing you need to know about us Autobots is about our unique abilities." he began. "Specifically, our ability to enter what we call 'vehicle mode', as well as transform our hands into useful tools."

"Not just tools, Ratchet." Grapple reminded him. "The Elite Guard can create weapons as well as tools, remember."

"Believe me, I remember." Ratchet grumbled. "I'm usually the ones pounding the dents out of those hot shots when they mess around with them."

The organic plucked a large seed off of the tree she was sitting in, lobbing it at Ratchet's head. It bounced off his cheek, drawing the medbot's attention.

"What can you transform into?" she questioned curiously.

Ratchet stood up, then backed away from the tree. He then proceeded to transform into a medical transport vehicle in the blink of an eye. The organic gasped in amazement, her jaw dropping.

"Awesome!" she cheered.

Ratchet reverted back to robot mode, wiping some dirt from his servos as he did.

"My vehicle mode fits my designation as Chief Medical officer, and in it, I can transport injured Autobots to my medical pay to be repaired."

The organic turned to Grapple.

"What do you turn into?" she asked eagerly.

"I turn into a crane." He explained. "It makes me an essential part of the CORD exploration team, especially on rough terrain not suitable for our vehicle forms."

"But as I said earlier, our vehicle forms aren't the only transformations we can undergo." Ratchet continued, returning to his spot by the tree. "Our tools, or weapons in the case of those in the Elite Guard, are specially chosen to aid us in our given professions."

Before the little organic could ask, he transformed his hand into a welding torch.

"This is my tool." he explained.

"Mine's a grappling hook." Grapple added. "It's how I got my name actually."

"How do you do that?" The organic wondered. "How do you make those tools come out, and turn into your vehicle mode?"

"Well it's sort of a moving of the joints," Ratchet explained. "We picture what we want to transform, whether our tool or our vehicle mode, and our bodies adjust our servos in order to create the necessary transformation."

The organic looked at her own hands, then frowned.

"I wish I could do that." she muttered. "Maybe then I could come out of this dome."

"Some things are just meant to be I'm afraid." Ratchet lamented.

The organic looked deeply saddened, so Ratchet decided to switch things up a bit and ask her some questions.

"So what about your planet." Ratchet asked. "I never left the ship when we first arrived there, so I have no idea what it's like."

The organic shrugged.

"It was cold." she admitted. "But my people managed to survive."

"How?"

"Well, we learned ways to keep our..." she faltered, trying to find a Cybertronian word that fit what she was trying to say. "Fuel... from going bad, and our hunters helped us stay near our prey."

"Fascinating." Grapple remarked.

The three talked for what seemed like hours about Earth, Cybertron, and their respective differences.

"So Autobots never had to hunt for fuel?" she asked surprised.

"Not really." Ratchet answered. "Though we do occasionally consume oil as sustenance, Energon still remains our primary source of fuel, and Cybertron provides enough Energon for every Autobot on the planet."

"Wow." the organic said surprised. "All I eat are those strange cubes that Preceptor gives me. They're good and all, but sometimes I miss the fuel of my planet."

"I can imagine." Ratchet remarked.

At that same time, Preceptor and Wheeljack walked into the room.

"Yes I do wish we had the time to grab some of the other sentient lifeforms of your planet, this prey you talk of often." Preceptor lamented. "Frankly, we were lucky to get you."

"Well, we have been overdue for another expedition." Wheeljack pointed out. "But with everything that's been going on lately, I doubt the council would authorize it."

The organic looked up confused.

"Why not?" she asked. "I thought you said everybody was finally taking you guys seriously after they learned that I could... well... learn."

"They were." Ratchet confirmed. "But lately the council has been preoccupied by a growing political presence that they can't spare any time to hear from us."

The human looked confused, an expression that reminded Ratchet of his organic friend's youth and inexperience.

"There has been someone speaking out against Cybertron's leadership." He explained, "Someone who wants to change the way it works."

The organic seemed to understand that.

"The leader of my people would occasionally argue with the soldiers." she remembered. "The soldiers didn't always agree with the leader's decisions and wanted to change them."

"That is basically what is happening here." Ratchet replied, "This bot wants to change Cybertron completely and create a world where all Cybertronians are accepted as equals. At least that's the way he puts it."

The organic thought about that.

"That sounds good... but would it work?" she wondered. "If everyone is equal, then that means no leaders. Without leaders, nothing works properly."

"It's hard to say right now." Ratchet answered. "But this revolutionary's actions are consuming the time and attention of the council. Meaning we won't get authorization to return to Earth anytime soon."

There was a moment of silence, then the organic muttered something under her breath.

"Maybe if they saw me they'd let you go."

That idea sparked the interest of Preceptor and Wheeljack.

"Y'know... you may be right." Preceptor though aloud.

"Yeah, if they see the progress of our research," Wheeljack added. "Then they'd have to send us back for further study."

The organic suddenly lit up.

"You mean... I can see more of Cybertron?" she asked excitedly, "Cybertron that's not on a history vid?"

"Certainly." Preceptor said.

The little organic began cheering again, dancing around the biodome happily. This only cemented the decision to try. Preceptor looked over at Ratchet with a knowing smile.

"You know you're going to have to be the one to take her, right?" he told him.

"Very well." Ratchet relented with faux reluctance. "I'll need one of those specimen jars."

Preceptor went and got him one, setting it down on the ground. The little organic scrambled into it, practically jumping up and down as Ratchet sealed the lid.

"Hold on tightly, little organic." He told her.

He then transformed into his vehicle mode, her jar now nestled in his cargo department as he drove out of the biodome and out of the lab.

...

The organic marveled at the sights of Cybertron as Ratchet drove down the bustling street. She continually pointed at various buildings and structures, asking what each was. Thankfully, Ratchet had most of the answers. Though he wouldn't admit it out loud, he was happy the organic was having a good time.

Eventually, the two reached their destination, and the little organic had her face practically pressed against the glass of her jar.

"What's this building, Ratchet?" she asked.

"The Iacon council building." Ratchet explained. "It's where the high council members convene and discuss the matters of Cybertron."

"No wonder it's so big." The organic remarked.

As Ratchet pulled up to the building, he transformed into his robot mode, catching his friend's jar before it could fall. As he walked in, he was surprised by how crowded the council building was. Autobots of all professions and designations were packed into the building to observe the proceedings.

"It seems that council is in session." Ratchet remarked.

"But why is it so crowded?" The organic questioned.

"This is an outrage!" A voice yelled out from the main part of the building.

The organic flinched at the shout and Ratchet's metallic digits tightened unconsciously around the jar.

"Because that revolutionary I told you about is addressing the council." The med-bot explained.

Ratchet maneuvered his way through the crowd until he was standing at the railing of an observation gallery, looking down at the council. They were a group of Autobots, all of them seated in a semi-circle overlooking a single, silver bot.

"Outrage you say?" the bot repeated. "Is it an outrage to demand change? To demand a new future for Cybertron?"

"The future you describe is barbaric!" the councilmen stated. "To suggest that our Elite guard, the Elite guard that has protected Cybertron for centuries, be removed."

"Not removed." The silver bot corrected. "More adequately... terminated."

The organic gasped, a reaction matched by many members of the observing Autobots and the council.

"Terminated... That's not good." The organic whispered. "Without the Elite Guard to protect Cybertron-"

"I know." Ratchet interrupted.

"You're insane Megatron!" another councilman shouted. "How would Cybertron be defended without the Elite Guard?"

"A new system would be imposed." The silver bot, Megatron, answered. "One made of powerful warriors capable of enforcing the law and will of Cybertron. Without hesitation, or mercy."

"A system like that would require the guidance of a Prime." one of the councilors argued. "And there has not been a Prime for countless years."

"Then perhaps that should change." Megatron retorted.

This caused a stir from the crowd. The word Prime was thrown around greatly throughout the hushed discussions. The organic looked up at Ratchet in confusion and curiosity.

"What is he saying?" The organic whispered. "What's a Prime?"

"The Primes were the first of our race, and the original leaders of Cybertron." Ratchet explained. "There were originally thirteen Primes that formed the first council, but they went offline mega-cycles ago."

"And who would that prime be?" the councilman demanded. "You?"

"Well if you insist," Megatron responded mockingly. "I humbly accept the nomination."

The organic banged her fist against the glass of her jar.

"That Megatron's got a few glitches in his processor if he thinks the council will make him a Prime." she exclaimed. "He'd bring Cybertron to ruin."

"I couldn't have put it better myself." Ratchet agreed.

"Who do you think you are?" the councilman asked furious. "To come here and make such demands of this council!"

"Someone who is tired of this council hoarding its power over Cybertron!" Megatron answered. "It's time for a change. The time has come for action not words. Cybertron needs a strong, capable leader, and my time is now!"

"Wait!" a voice called out.

Everyone present gasped in surprise, turning to the source of the voice. From the shadows, a red and blue bot emerged, coming to stand next to Megatron. The organic squinted through the glass at the bot, not recognizing him.

"Who's that?" she asked, pointing at the newcomer.

"Is that...?" Ratchet began, squinting to get a closer look. "It is. It's Orion."

"Who?" the organic asked again.

"Orion Pax," Ratchet clarified. "A data clerk in the Iacon Hall of Records. He's a friend of mine."

"High council," Orion addressed. "Forgive my interruption, but I have something to say."

The council members looked at each other for a moment.

"You may speak." one member relented.

"Thank you." Orion responded. "While I do agree with Megatron that there is a need for change on Cybertron, the way he means to go about it is wrong."

This infuriated Megatron, and Orion's next words didn't help any.

"I have worked as a data clerk in the Iacon Hall of Records for stellar cycles, and in studying Cybertron's history, I have noticed a constant. Whenever evil threatened our world, be it Unicron or the Quintessons, all of them were beaten because the forces that opposed them, like the original thirteen primes and the warriors that would one day become The Elite Guard, banded together to repel those threats. We need a system like that again, where fellow bots depend on one another for support and protection. A system where no bot in power is of higher importance than another, but all have equal rights and privileges. If we can work to make this happen, we can create a world of peace, happiness, justice, and prosperity. A world where all are one.

This received a resounding applause from the entire assembly present, the organic included.

"They should make him a Prime." she told Ratchet. "His idea would work, wouldn't it?"

"I think it would, little one." Ratchet agreed.

"If there is to be a new Prime," one councilman, named Alpha Trion, spoke. "Then I believe it to be Orion Pax. Such words of wisdom have not been uttered in these halls since Cybertron's golden age."

The organic punched the air

"Yes!" she cheered.

"Hold you voice box Alpha Trion!" another councilman spoke. "One does not simply name a Prime!"

"You heard what he said." Alpha Trion responded. "Who would be more worthy?"

"You know as well as I that one can only obtain that title by finding the Matrix of Leadership."

The organic looked up at Ratchet in confusion.

"Matrix of Leadership?" she asked.

"An ancient relic passed down from Prime to Prime." Ratchet exposited. "It is said to contain the collective wisdom of the original Primes."

"Sounds important." The organic mulled over. "They should give it to him."

"I'm sure they would if they could." Ratchet replied. "Unfortunately it has been lost for thousands of mega-cycles."

"Well then, maybe they need to find it." The organic retorted. "I bet Orion could find it."

Ratchet scoffed.

"You make it sounds so easy." Ratchet dismissed. "Cybertronians have been looking for the Matrix for stellar cycles and have never found it."

The organic chuckled.

"You just haven't looked hard enough." She informed him, crossing her arms.

"I think we have." He replied, unable to keep the smirk off his face.

"So this was your intention, Orion!" Megatron yelled. "To humiliate me in front of the council and rob me of my destiny?!"

"Megatron I-" Orion tried to explain.

"Leave me Orion." Megatron stated, pushing past the bot towards the exit.

Megatron's chosen path led him past Ratchet and the organic. As he passed, she blew a raspberry at him, giving him a smug smirk. The action elicited a snarl from Megatron, which scared the organic more than a bit. She huddled close to the edge of her jar, where Ratchet's hand covered the glass. He gave her a snort of derision before resuming his exit.

"I don't like that guy." the organic voiced, peeking through Ratchet's fingers.

"Agreed." Ratchet concurred. "Though I don't think now is the best time to make our appeal to the council. They have enough to deal with."

The organic nodded.

"Let's go back to the lab." she agreed.

Ratchet then exited the building and drove back to the lab, both he and the organic sharing feelings of nervousness about what had occurred. Though they hoped this session would be the last they heard of Megatron, they both had a feeling that the bot had something diabolical planned.