Shockwave surveyed the gathered Autobot cadets with disinterest. They were all so eager, so young and idealistic. Fools, the lot of them. Buying into the Autobot propaganda, living large, luxurious lives, never thinking about those who suffered…. well, it didn't matter; he had a job to do, and he would do it well. He wasn't Megatron's top spy for nothing. Getting into a position of power, preferably in the Intelligence Department, would be youngling's play. Still, he couldn't overlook these cadets. Useless though most of them were there were likely some that could become a threat if he wasn't careful.

His optics trailed over each individual cadet, analyzing their strengths and weaknesses. As he suspected, most weren't worth a second glance. There were some that warranted further study, but weren't likely to make it high enough to threaten him, and a select few who he could see being a real threat. There was a flashy red and gold mech painted with flames talking to a group of wannabes. He was loud and brash, but Shockwave could see his optics studying the others just as intently as the spy himself was. The young mech was clever, and good at hiding it. Shockwave made a mental note to watch that one.

There was also a couple, standing together, and a powerful one at that. The obnoxious, big chinned mech had his arm around a pretty yellow femme, holding her close as he boasted to hiss groupies. He was big, loud, and arrogant, but the Decepticon could see from the way he moved that he had the skills to back up his words. That spoke of previous training, meaning he was likely the son of a politician or some other big name Autobot, and the little femme was no slouch either. She was neither loud, nor crude, like her counterpart, but she held herself in a manner that also spoke of experience. Judging from the way she held court with the few other femmes, she was powerful and she knew it. Likely she would be the more dangerous one, given that where her partner was an in-your-face kind of mech, she would more likely use his shadow to manipulate in secret. Or, she would if she was either smart, or vicious, enough. Goody-goody Autobots weren't known for being smart.

Shockwave would have taken no further interest in the cadets behavior if not for the young mech standing in the corner. He was a gorgeous little thing, all lithe limbs and trim waist, stunning blue and red paint, and the prettiest lips Shockwave had ever seen. He was alone; he approached no one, and no one tried to approach him. He seemed fine with it, but after vorns of practice reading others, the Con could tell that the young mech was hurting; those expressive blue optics all but screamed it. The reason why was clear. The big chinned mech kept stage whispering nastily to the mechs around him, shooting the loner revolted glares as he did so. The femme ignored her partner, shooting the young mech a sympathetic glance, before turning back to her girls. Shockwave knew why; the power couple may appear to be somewhat ditzy, but one was smart, and the other was observant. They had both recognized the other as a threat, something that had to be belittled and put down before he could rise against them. It was obvious that the red and blue cadet had training, the way he held himself with confidence made that clear, but he also seemed to carry a quiet intelligence and determination. Mechs like that went far. Shockwave would know; he was one of them.

It was at that moment that his internal systems pinged him, having finished gathering the relevant data on the cadets from their files. Shockwave was disappointed with how easy they had been to hack – he'd been hoping for more of a challenge. He quickly scrolled through the information, placing names with the faces he saw around him. The flame painted mech was Hot Rod, the power couple were Sentinel and Elita. And the sweet mech in the corner, that was Optimus. Even his name was powerful. Shockwave was surprised by the strong bolt of lust that shot through him. The third in command turned his attention back to his mission, deciding that there was no harm in attempting to gain allies, and if one of those allies happened to follow him back to the Decepticons, so much the better.

Optimus ached all over. He didn't show it as he moved through the dorms, not wanting to give anyone another reason to mock him. He waited until he was safely ensconced in his room before he allowed himself to sag. He didn't understand it; the bullying that is. At first it hadn't bothered him, but after nearly a vorn of being treated like slag it was beginning to get to him. He knew that Sentinel and Elita did not like him. He wasn't sure why, but it didn't matter. He had been polite and friendly when they had first approached outside the camp. So had they. He had been somewhat turned off by Sentinel's behavior, but he had done his best to not let it show. Given the politics he was used to dealing with as a ward of Senator Dropkick's home, he was quiet good at hiding his thoughts. But then, his mentor always did say that his optics gave him away when he wasn't concentrating on hiding his emotion. Well, whatever the reason, this had gone beyond childish and into bullying. It had driven all potential friends away from him. No one wanted to associate with Sentinel's victim. Not that Optimus thought of himself as one. He was evenly matched, if not slightly better, with the larger mech in hand and weapon combat, and his written work was graded as highest in the class. He had never gotten less than a perfect score; good grades were expected of him after all.

The young cadet flopped strutlessly down onto his berth, thinking about the day. It had been combat training against multiple opponents, and surprise surprise, Sentinel and his posse had volunteered to be his attackers. He had held out well, longer than anyone, he thought with some pride, but eventually they had gotten him on the ground and they hadn't let up. It wasn't until Long Arm stepped in and threatened to get the instructor that they had backed off. Long Arm had helped him up and gotten him to the medical station, lingering by the door until the nursebot had told him that Optimus would be fine and to return to class. The crane had, but not before shooting another concerned glance at him over his shoulder.

Optimus had noticed that Long Arm was the only other mech who didn't seem to give a damn about what Sentinel thought of him. He had this aura about him that almost seemed to say that he knew he was better than the blowhard, and he didn't give a frag about what Sentinel thought of him. Unfortunately, Long Arm was in the Intelligence Track, not the Combat Track like Optimus, so they didn't interact much. It was a shame, and Long Arm was actually very nice, and it was always interesting to converse with him. The cadet didn't know why Long Arm had been in the Sparring Room while they were practicing, but the truck was glad that he had. He could have gotten badly hurt before the instructor noticed otherwise.

The door chime startled him, and he nearly jerked off the berth. He caught his balance and stood, wincing as he joints cracked, and moved to answer the door. He was surprised to find Long Arm standing on the other side.

"Hello Optimus."

"Er, Hi Long Arm. Can I help you?"

"I just wanted to make sure that you are doing well. You took quite a beating today." Warmth flooded Optimus at that. It had been a long time since anyone had expressed care about his well being.

"Thank you for your concern. I am fine, just bruised a bit."

"Still you should not have had to suffer that. Why do you not tell anyone about their behavior?" Optimus moved aside, inviting Long Arm into his room. Long Arm entered, taking a seat on the berth.

"There is no need to. I do not want to cause unnecessary trouble, and I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself." He could not help the defensiveness that crept into his tone. Long Arm smiled gently.

"Of course. I've seen you in combat, and I know how skilled you are. I also know how jealousy can encourage mechs and femmes into actions that could be a danger to you and them. And they are jealous of you Optimus." Optimus scoffed.

"What could they possibly be jealous of?"

"You are skilled. You know you are. You would have to be a fool not to see it and I know that you are not a fool. Look, Optimus, most cadets have one or two qualities, three if they are lucky, that the Elite Guard is looking for. You are a model combat student, top of your class, brave, and determined. On top of that, you know when to fight and when to back off and negotiate. They say that the Magnus had all of those qualities too. The only other students who can match you are Sentinel and Elita, and they can only do so as Sentinel-and-Elita. On their own they are lacking. They know this, so they belittle you and mock you, trying to beat you down so that you don't get ahead of them. It makes you even more impressive when you get back up, and they don't like that." Optimus still looked disbelieving. The orns of torment had all but destroyed his self confidence and Long Arm knew it would take a long time to get him back up to the level he come in with.

"How do you know so much about our records and abilities? Pit, how do you even know how do they think?"

"I'm an intelligence mech, remember? It's my job to watch and learn, and to find information others would rather keep hidden. Part of that is understanding psychology." The intelligence cadet could see that Optimus desperately wanted to believe his words, but was still skeptical. Well, no matter, he knew that even if he didn't believe them, the words would still act as a balm on his shattered self confidence. He wouldn't push him anymore tonight; there was still plenty of time for that. "Well, I suppose I should go. I still have homework I need to finish tonight. I am glad that you are unharmed." He stood, making his way over to the door.

Optimus watched Long Arm, not wanting him to leave. He hadn't realized how much he had missed having someone to talk to until that moment. Still, it would be impolite to keep him from his studies.

"Thank you for visiting, I appreciate the concern." Long Arm noticed that the words were reluctant. Optimus didn't want him to go, it seemed. He paused at the door, turning back to the attractive young mech he had helped.

"Would you like to join me for lunch tomorrow?" A smile lit up the younger mech's face, transforming him from attractive to gorgeous.

"Sure, that would be great. Thank you."

"Alright, how about we meet at MacAdams after morning classes finish?"

"That works for me."

"Very well. I will see you tomorrow then, Optimus. Good night."

"Good night!" Outside his prey's room, Long Arm smirked at the apparent excitement in that reply. Perfect.

Thank you so much to my awesome beta, Kittona! She betaed all of this story, and I should never have taken so long to get these reposted. Thanks so much hun! (And she betaed What Lies in the Past. I forgot to add that, and must go do so immediately)