"We've travelled through time and space my friends/To rock this house again..."

So, it's been nearly two years. We're all older, wiser, and hyped for Dark Of The Moon :P Seriously, though. If there's one lesson I can take away from all this, it's to never start a wordy-project-thingy without some means to record later chapters/plot ideas/etc. You never know when you might lose your PC. Or your living arrangements. Or both. At the same time.

Meanwhile, this project will be undergoing some minor realignment. I don't think it's going to be anywhere near as big as I originally intended (eighty-plus chapters HELLZ NO) but it will be fairly hefty. Lots of events to cover, after all. Finally, I'd like to apologise twofold: sorry I kept you all waiting, and I'm afraid I can make no guarantees as to an update schedule. You can, however, check both my dA account (link's in my profile) for info/thought/ramblings and the Deux Claret Wiki for any relevant info pertaining to the series.

Moving on...DISCLAIMER: If I owned it, RoTF would have played out slightly different, and DoTM would be out by now (though it technically is, what with previews and all). Damn you Bay/Paramount, and your enticing teasers!

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Book I: Genesis

Chapter One: Alpha

Skyfire groaned as he brought his hand to his faceplate in an "oh-Primus-why-me" gesture. "There'll be no living with him after this," he muttered to his companion.

Thundercracker just grinned. "You're just ticked 'cause we all bet against you and won, for once." His tone was more playful jab than anything else, and Skyfire managed a light chuckle at it. "That aside, it is a personal victory for him. Did Starscream tell you what his stipulation was?"

Thundercracker's reply was cut off as the lab doors hissed open to admit a mildly-dejected Skywarp, muttering to himself. Thundercracker turned to the new arrival, mirth setting his optics alight. "Megar Pax?" Skywarp abruptly cut off his barely audible rant as he shot the other aide a quick glare. "Yes. Megar fragging Pax."

Skyfire sensed the lack of conviction in his voice, and raised an optic-guard. "Somehow, I get the feeling you're not as upset as you claim to be." Skywarp's glare melted into an anticipatory smile. "Intuitive as ever, Sky. Cybertron's turned into a planet-wide party; we'd be idiots to miss a chance to throw our own, regardless of who got in."

"Fantastic idea, Skywarp. The first round's on you," came the near-cackle of the Head of the Science Division. The doors hadn't quite had time to seal all the way from Skywarp's entrance before they re-opened to admit Starscream. The slim mech's optics were agleam with a smug "I-told-you-so" expression as he continued once the other three had turned to face him. "'Let's all bet on the army-mech. There's no way he could lose against some barely-sentient labor drone!' Great call, that." Thundercracker snorted as Skywarp mock-growled and Skyfire let his head drop almost to his chestplate as he pinged the plum-colored aide. [What did I tell you? Gloat, gloat, gloat.] His response was a wider grin from Thundercracker as he quieted.

"I don't believe I used the term 'labor drone'." Skywarp's rebuttal was met with ever-present snark from his superior. "Yet I don't hear any denial on the 'barely-sentient' label." Skywarp scowled and cycled his vents. "Let's just go, already. The sooner we get 'clocked, the sooner I can forget what an aft I've made of myself." This prompted yet another laugh from Thundercracker. "From the sound of it, we might be at this all night." Skyfire's wry response of "I think that's the idea" was drowned out by Skywarp's offering of "oh, frag you!" Thundercracker chuckled and said as calmly as he was able, "Not for all the high-grade in this system."

-0-0-

The newly-crowned Optimus Prime and Megatron stepped into the room that would serve as the Prime's official receiving quarters amidst the latter's grumbling. "There's a planet-wide tavern-crawl taking place because of us, and we can't even take part yet? That is such sla-"

"Peace, brother. We'll have our chance to play guest of honor soon enough. But you know as well as I that the well-being of our race takes precedence over festivities, regardless of their cause." Megatron cycled his vents in mild annoyance as he swept an arm out toward the nearest viewing portal. "Tell that to all the department heads getting 'clocked off their faceplates out there. If not for the fact that I insisted on having no less than half our military force as lookout, we'd have Quint ships so far up our inebriated skidplates-"

The room's door chime sounded before Optimus could attempt to curb his brother's rant. Suppressing the urge to cycle his own vents, he turned to his brother. "Tell you what. We'll deal with the most important half of our respective tasks before joining the parties. Fair?" Once he got an acquiescent grunt from the taller mech, he signalled the door's sensors to admit their guest: a senatorial-model roughly two-thirds the height of the newest Prime, white with rare splashes of red along the chest area. Megatron's expression brightened a bit as he recognised the third mech – it was, after all, he who had authorised the newly-minted Lord High Protector's command rank at the height of the Quintesson conflict.

"Senator Ratchet," said Optimus, in what he hoped was his best "official" voice. "To what do we owe this unexpected honor?" The senator bowed his head in the usual sign of deference given to the Emissaries of Primus, albeit with a smirk present. "With all due respect, your 'Prime' voice needs a bit of polish."

For the second time that cycle, Optimus was caught off-guard. This time, however, he couldn't stop himself from shuttering his optics in shock. "I…wait…what?" Ratchet's smirk escalated to a full-on grin. "As do your vocabulary circuits, it seems." At this point it was all Megatron could do to keep himself from laughing openly at his brother. "Cut him some slack, senator. You know his vocal processors won't be upgraded until the rest of his protoform." At this, Ratchet turned to the silver mech, his grin never fading. "The same could be said for you, youngling. Hardly the inspirational voice I'd expect from the one who now leads our every defence force."

Optimus refreshed his speech circuits loudly enough to gain the senator's attention. "Can we help you, senator?" Grin fading somewhat in an attempt to obtain the serious demeanor warranted by the issue he had come to present, Ratchet turned back to the Prime. "I wish to withdraw my candidacy for the next senatorial election." The blue mech felt himself recoil as if struck. "Withdraw – you're retiring? Now?"

Ratchet raised an optic-guard at the young Prime. "I've been serving since just before Kup became our Head of Military, and Pit knows I've more than done my time since." Seeing that Optimus either could not or would not speak, Megatron stepped in. "Where will you go? By your own admission you've been around longer than the two of us combined. In all that time there can't possibly be a field you haven't sampled."

The senator's faceplate crinkled in amusement. "I may be old, but my spark's still got plenty of life left. And in any case, you're wrong. I'm certainly no stranger to manual labor," he nodded toward Optimus in acknowledgement, "and even commanded my share of troops in battle." Here, his voice dropped. "Primus spare me from the rigors of field command. Never again." His voice regained its original volume and tone as he continued. "It's actually that stint in the field of command that prompted my new chosen career path." Seeing he had the full attention of both leaders, he continued. "I wish to move into medicine. I'd have done so after the last war; but between the political turmoil of that and Sentinel's rise to the office and title of Prime, my stay in the Senate was more or less forced."

Optimus shuttered his optics in confusion and – though he would be loath to admit it to anyone save himself – mild panic as he spoke. "It is precisely that turmoil of which you speak that makes me question your decision. We will need your guidance."

Ratchet's reply was intended to be soothing, even if his tone was not. "I see great promise in the pair of you. You'll do fine without me vetoing your every motion. Besides," his voice turned to steel, "I'm not asking so much as telling. I AM leaving the Senate, with or without your blessing. Should you choose to fight my decision I will simply leave Cybertron altogether, and let you deal with the stigma of driving away one of her most beloved senators. Alternatively, if you allow this gracefully, Cybertron gains another much-needed medic, and you two score major points with her populace." Slyly, he concluded his argument. "Would you deny an old mech the choice of what might well be his last dream?"

Megatron's derisive snort of "You make it sound as though you've one foot in the Well" was ignored by both Ratchet and Optimus (though the former sniggered internally) as the Prime sagged his shoulder-struts. "I'm told it's a long-held belief of the Primes that freedom is the right of all sentient beings, regardless of form or age. My brother and I both took a vow to uphold that view when we accepted these posts. Very well. The details and documentation of this move will be finalised once the festivities have ended. I'd ask you to reconsider, but even us lowly dock workers are aware of your…reputation."

An amused rumbling came from Ratchet as he replied. "My incredible stubborn-ness, you mean?" Optimus looked slightly abashed as he corrected Ratchet. "I was thinking more along the lines of 'not easily dissuaded'."

"And to think, you were worried about needing a hand in politics," snorted the now-former-senator. "I reiterate. You'll do well in your post. Both of you will." He bowed his head one last time in an indication of his intent to depart. "With your permission, my Prime?" Optimus nodded. "You have my blessing, Senator. Follow your path, wherever it may take you." With a nod, Ratchet turned and left the room. Once the door had sealed, Optimus' entire frame slumped as he turned to his brother. "Frag this. You had the right idea all along. Ready to hit the parties?" Megatron's smirk was as wide as it had ever been as he answered, "It's been vorns since you've told me I was right. Come, Orion. Let's imbibe until we can't process higher command functions."

As the doors sealed for the final time that cycle, Optimus lamented that losing a senator on the first day was "a Pit of a way to start my career in politics."

-0-0-

Next time: hungover science geeks, wagers are revealed, more players arise on fate's gameboard, and the seeds are sown for Cybertron's darkest chapter.