Prologue.

The target was fast. Much faster then he had anticipated. A rookie mistake. He hated himself for it.

The terrain was rocky with fauna scattered about, growing up crookedly through the sandy soil. The target was only a few meter ahead. His lead would not hold. Ahead was a rock outcropping that he knew lead down into a valley. He knew what was reportedly hidden in that valley and it was simple data verification that the enemy was heading straight for it. Perfect.

As he had hoped, the target ran straight for the rocks and leaped over. Though visual contact was lost for a split moment, he could hear the sound of the target loose his footing and fall. He could not have asked for a more perfect turn of events.

He had him.

Launching himself over the rock outcropping, Riptide sailed through the air and pulled out his blaster. Directly below was his target, struggling to regain lost footing. He locked onto his target and pulled the trigger. Both Cybertronians hit the dirt at the same moment, but only one remained standing.

The parched ground was already soaking in the oozing Energon and lubricant. It was a clean shot, straight through the sub-transistor just below the neck line. His processor had shut down immediately. He was not dead, but stasis lock would not keep his spark from fading away. He had mere minutes. Quickly, Riptide placed a hard line into the dying mech's processor uplink.

A firewall immediately rose up and blocked his access. But the processor was fading and safety programs reared up and began rooting all power to the main power core in an attempt to keep him alive just moment longer. The firewalls fell without a struggle and the mech's mind was open for Riptide to flip through as he pleased.

Highly trained as he was, Riptide went straight for the dying mech's security codes and transferred the data. Then he sifted through everything in a rough sweep. There wasn't much time to go through with a fine optic, but he grabbed and transferred anything that appeared to be of value.

There was not much.

This Mech was not high on the chain of command. Not a lieutenant like himself, but merely a foot soldier.

As the last pitiful pulses of energy ran across his processor, Riptide pulled away and allowed the mech to slip seamlessly into the darkness of death. He watched the light drain from his optics and all functions cease.

"Till all are one." Riptide muttered before turning back the way he had come. Air whipped up around him as the wind blew across the valley floor and kicked up dust.

He paused.

A strange feeling, deep within his chest…pinged. It was not pain. It did not feel like a physical sensation so much as emotional. He felt a stir that was slowly becoming a sense of disquiet. Apprehension.

He shrugged off the feeling and walked onward to the rendezvous spot. He needed to hand over the security codes to Intelligence while they were still useful. Phantom pains be damned.

"Do you understand what I am telling you?"

The Foundry official was a tall, lanky specimen with optics that seemed to have been designed too small-or his olfactory sensor too large-to properly balance out his facial features. Ratchet had decided instantly that he did not much care for this mech. He held himself too proudly to be anywhere near levelheaded, mistaking his advantage of height for authority. He knew of this official, but had never met face to face. Their respective duties were not so that they might run into one another by mere happenstance. And in any case, Ratchet felt sure that it was a blessing that it was so.

The current subject of discussion was causing the room to feel far too stifling. While technically Ratchet out ranked him the subject at hand, it was not within Ratchet's legal jurisdiction to dictate and ultimately, it was this mech who decided what was to become of Sam. And just as Ratchet held a low opinion of the mech, he too seemed to have an equally low opinion of Ratchet.

It made for a tense conversation.

"I understand, Highbrow," Ratchet said tersely.

"It is not my wish to see any mech persecuted for his efforts in aiding one of our new generation, but there are rules to observe and there have been some unsavory rumors regarding your comrade's intentions."

"I assure you, Bumblebee's intentions in regards to D-17 are completely within respectable bounds."

The tall mech clasped his hands behind his back and gave a stiff nod. "I hope so. An overseer shall come to collect the Sparkling within the cycle. If his glitch cannot be corrected during that time, he shall be scheduled for a data purge."

It was the worse feeling Ratchet knew. Seeing a situation, knowing he was needed, and being unable to do much of anything. Helplessness. It was a bitter flavor he did not much care for. Without any means of refusal, Ratchet could only nod his head and ended the conversation.

When the Foundry Official finally felt, Bumblebee burst out from a backroom from where he overheard the conversation in its entirety. If the flashing of his optics were any indicator, he was not pleased. Bumblebee lost no time in voicing his displeasure either. "You can't let them take him back!"

Ratchet sighed and braced himself against the console, feeling the weight of his years bearing down upon his poor struts. Stress always made him feel so old…

"There's nothing we can do Bumblebee," Ratchet replied. "He's Foundry property."

Bumblebee leaned into Ratchet's space and growled, "He's not a piece of furniture!"

Ratchet remained cool. "According to our laws he is. Until he is adopted."

"Then I'll adopt him!"

Ratchet allowed a small smile to creep onto his features. He rose back to his full height and regarded his old friend. While Bumblebee was not a youngling anymore, he was still green around the servos. Even the grind of their long war could not loosen his energy or determination or that blind restlessness.

"Your loyalty is admirable," Ratchet replied. "But we do not have the time. The waiting list for a sparkling is not only notoriously long, but to be approved for it…well, it makes the Academy entrance exams look like a leisurely stroll."

Bumblebee did not look deterred. "There must be something we can do."

"We can think about this logically," Ratchet answered, placing a reassuring hand on Bumblebee's shoulder as he walked past him. "We may not have direct say with the Foundry, but we do possess powerful connections."

It was then that Bumblebee's face lit up with realization. "Optimus."

The private transport slowed to a halt and Highbrow waited until the door opened for him before exiting onto the street. His assistant followed closely behind. Together they entered the main lobby and took a lift to the private offices. Once there, Highbrow took his chair and sat heavily into it. With a sigh, he shook his head while his assistant stood by silently.

"I do not care for it," Highbrow murmured. "It's rings of suspicion."

The assistant quirked his head ever so slightly. "Sir?"

"That medic, he use to work under the Prime, yes? After the exodus?"

Studying the data streaming across the data pad in his hands, the assistant nodded. "Yes sir. He was a close confidant of the Prime during that time period."

"Who else was on his team?"

"Ratchet-Chief Medical officer, Ironhide-weapons specialist and tactician, Jazz-special ops…"

"What of a mech named Bumblebee?"

"Bumblebee-scout. Filled in as active lieutenant during his deployment with Prime's unit following Jazz's deactivation on the planet Earth."

"What can you tell me of him?"

"He's accredited with the badge of valor for his efforts on Tyger Pax. And it says here that he was once a guard of the Allspark chamber."

The elder considered this for a long moment, staring off and allowing his own processor to savor the data. "A war hero and apparently a most committed individual."

The assistant only appeared confused. "Sir?"

"A seasoned soldier of the wars. Retired and leading an apparently stable life. Sounds as though he is a perfect candidate for adoption, does he not?"

"Yes sir."

"Well I find his behavior suspicious. He has not thus far admitted any forms requesting adoption approval?"

"No, sir. He has not."

"The why such an interest in a glitched Sparkling? And what of the medic? What does he have to do with this?"

Suddenly the assistant face lit up with a startling idea. "A conspiracy?"

"To forgo the approval process and snatch up an innocent spark for themselves. There may be something in their war career that might hinder their eligibility. The Medic, I feel he may be the middle man. Bumblebee may be manipulating old ties for personally gain. I want an overseer to collect the sparkling as soon as possible."

"Yes sir." Said the assistant with a nod and began to type away at his data pad.

Highbrow continued, "And when he is collected, have him sent to medical for a data purge. We have waited far too long to deal with this glitch. It is our responsibility to oversee the well being of these new sparks. I will not have him fall to the hands of a pair of lowly thugs!"

Author's notes: I know a lot of you were hoping for a sequel and I hope this does not disappoint. I realize it's short, but hey-it's just a prologue. More to come! =D