A/N: Ok, because I can't put the asterisks or any other doohicky to announce a minor page break, I'm going to use Oooooo while my normal XxXxXx is the change of scene. I hate to confuse yall more than I already do but with the document manager hating my personal system, I have to improvise. Right, I'll shut up…read time!

2027

Cybertron

Optimus Prime stared out at Iacon from the bridge of the Ark. She was docked at the remains of the old Elite Guard hangar, the one that had been built higher up to avoid most traffic and to allow easier access to open space. The roof was long gone, providing a perfect view of the center of Iacon. Though his engaged face mask effectively hid his emotions, it was just as painful now seeing the once glorious city in ruins as it was when he had left Cybertron to search for the Allspark. But where there was once a pit of despair in his spark a beam of hope was starting to shine through.

They had returned to Cybertron almost a quarter of a vorn ago. Since then, mechs had slowly been returning, their numbers swelling. Those who had belonged to the Decepticons had also come creeping back, leaderless, desperate and energon deprived and far from happy. Most wanted to see them severely punished but Optimus disagreed. Though part of him wanted to, the part that still grieved for those dead and gone, the pain of seeing their home destroyed, the hatred that the deceased Megatron had left still felt by all but the other part of him, the side that longed for peace, knew that punishment would only deepen the cracks between them. Much to many former Autobots shock and dismay, he pardoned the Decepticons of their crimes. It would take a while for them to get used to the idea, he knew, but eventually, the faction lines would begin to blur. He remained optimistic that it might be happening already for now mechs from both factions were all over the city, cleaning up the remaining vestiges of war and slowly rebuilding the city. He was now able to dare to think that his dream might come true, the dream of Cybertron reunited. " 'Till all are one" might one day be "All are one".

But for now, overseeing the rebuilding efforts would suffice until he would finally take the role a Prime was supposed to be over a peaceful population. The Ark, the long faithful craft that had survived a majority of the war, now served as command post and headquarters until a more permanent building could take its place. Then she would go to a well-deserved retirement. There was even talk of preserving her, keeping her intact for hopeful future generations to see.

Prowl silently came up besides him, optics scanning the city below them. Though his second in command was normally one to keep to himself, Optimus could see the troubled look in his optics.

"What's wrong, my old friend?"

"Forgive me for being blunt but how are we going to survive without the Allspark?" Prowl asked, "It was our source of life. Our source of fuel."

"There are other ways to create life." Optimus said gently.

"I know…but I didn't come here to discuss different methods of procreation." The look on Prowl's face said that he had already gotten sucked into one such conversation. Mostly likely with Ratchet, who undoubtedly went into great detail just to make the more conservative mech squirm, "I came to discuss the energon shortage problem."

"Ah, I was wondering when you would mention that."

"On earth we could use alternative sources. But here, our supplies are extremely limited and the refineries in Kalis are destroyed." Prowl said, "We have a good supply here on the Ark but with more mechs arriving every orn, it won't be long before we find ourselves in a crisis."

"I understand my friend. However I believe I might have an answer for you." Prime turned fully to the second, "When the Detonators were deployed out in Sigma 6 they came across planets with an energon like substance on them. They could not tell if the planets produced them naturally as they did not have the luxury to study them at the time. Unfortunately they DID discover that the substance was unusable in its current state. However I discussed this with Barricade and Perceptor and they assured me they could probably find a way to make this substance into a sustainable fuel source for us, such as we did on earth."

Prowl shook his head. He had no love for Barricade and no reason to trust him. He had reservations about allowing a Decepticon, former or not, to experiment with their fuel source.

"Prowl, we will survive. But in order to do that, the Autobots and the Decepticons must no longer exist. There are only Cybertronians now." Optimus said, his voice swelling with the charismatic bass tones that made him such a powerful persuader, "We all have an invested interest in rebuilding our home. If there is one thing we take from earth and the humans it's the ability to pick up and move on after war."

Prowl just vented a sighed. It was hard to argue when Optimus used that voice.

Oooooo

Ironhide crossed his arms over his chest as he watched the groups face off, the debris they were supposed to be carrying off lying forgotten in piles. He felt his irritation rise but he wasn't quite sure exactly who it was directed at. The mechs had divided themselves into three groups: those who used to be Autobots, those who used to be Decepticons and, for reasons that made him want to slam his head, or theirs, against a wall repeatedly, the Autobots who had been on earth. He wanted to beat all three groups senseless; he just couldn't decide which one first.

The bad energon between the first two groups was obvious and for reasons he could easily understand but the third…was irritating at best and stupid at worst. Apparently they viewed those who never made it to earth but were quick to arrive on Cybertron as cowards who only came out of hiding to reap the rewards of "winning" the war, if one could call their ruined planet a win. Those who remained in space viewed the others as scared sparklings running to hide behind Prime while the rest of them risked their lives to keep space channels clear of Decepticons who would cut them off and slaughter them. Even older veterans who should have known better were hissing and spitting at the "other group". Separate, smaller cliques were also forming within each group, further fragmenting what once had been strong alliances. It hadn't even been a quarter of a vorn and already Ironhide could see Prime's vision of a united race of Cybertronians falling apart. They simply could not get past the war.

Personally Ironhide could see the point. He himself was pointedly biased; favoring his Autobots comrades over the Decepticons he viewed as traitors. But his respect for Optimus tended to outweigh his hate in most cases. If Prime wanted them united, then he was slagging well going to make sure they were united! But what was a warrior to do? He remembered the numerous occasions others had tried to tell him the war would end one day and those like him wouldn't be needed anymore, that he needed to think of what he would do in the future. He hadn't exactly heeded that advice because he lived for the present. The past was past and the future was always uncertain. He fought like a good soldier. But right now, as they said, Cybertron didn't need a warrior. Its fragile peace would shatter otherwise. He didn't have Prime's gift for words…but he had to try and find someway to get through to these aft-headed mechs.

"Enough!" he barked, putting himself between the glaring mechs.

"This slag-sucking scum think they can just walk around like nothin' ever happened!" a former Autobot bawled to him, "The murdering slaggers have no right to be here!"

" 'Murdering slaggers' eh?" the ex-con snarled back around Ironhide's bulk, "Says the oh-so-holy bot who would kill us without a second thought! Unless you Autobots changed the meaning to fit your own needs, that's murder to me!"

"I SAID ENOUGH!" Ironhide roared. Fortunately he still commanded enough fear and respect among both sides that they listened and fell silent, "In case you have forgotten, the war is OVER. As Prime said we are CYBERTRONIANS! If we can't get along now, we'll ALL die."

"I'd rather DIE than see a con walk free!"

CLANG!

The cheers and jeers that had swelled up abruptly fell into shocked silence as the offending mech went flying, a hoof-shaped dent in his aft.

"Idiots, all of you." Redblaze said, moving to stand next to Ironhide.

Despite his name, the mech was a dark shade of blue. Irrelevant colors not withstanding, his name was wholly appropriate considering he had created and commanded the Autobot equivalent of a bomb squad; the pyrotechnic explosive warfare team known as the Detonators.

And their commander was as distinctive as his profession. Taller than his brother Ironhide though not as broad, his thick legs were shaped like earth's mythological Satyr, down to the hoof-shaped feet. Normally a good-natured mech, he took his job very seriously and his temper would flare through if the situation called for it…and it was obvious that he considered his task the same as Ironhide's. He didn't quite inspire the same fear his black painted brother did, but he commanded a great deal of respect.

"Idiots. Have none of you ever thought of those who died here?" he said calmly, "How many of them died desperately wishing for peace? How many neutrals died? How many youngling and sparklings, who didn't know factions existed, were killed as a result of OUR war? How many Autobots or Decepticons died never wanting to fight, not caring which faction they belonged to, just wanting the fighting to be over? Medics who died trying to heal the injured, to stop soldiers from dying, not caring who belonged to what faction. You dishonor them. They would be celebrating the end of this slagging war and you spit in their faces with this senseless fighting. I hope when you recharge tonight you hear their cries. I hope you hear them beg for peace and mercy so that you online shaking and crying and begging as loud as they did when they died. Stupid slag-heads we are IT. If you think you are superior to others, go. Leave. There's a whole planet out there. Go scratch a living out of the rust. The delusion of superiority is how this war got started in the first place. I know…I was there for it. So decide. Learn to move on and be here when Cybertron rises again in glory or live in misery but convinced of your superiority."

Silence continued its reign over the crowd. Not a mech moved. Their glares of hatred and mistrust hadn't lessened but their posture was far more relaxed. A fight wouldn't break out. Not today at least. It was an improvement. Not a huge one, but improvement nonetheless.

"Get back to work." Ironhide growled at them, "This planet isn't going to rebuild itself."

As mechs filed back to their jobs, the mech Blaze had kicked came over rubbing his aft.

"Did you have to kick me though?"

"Yes I did." Blaze didn't bat an optic, "Should have kicked your head but your processor wasn't there. Conveniently it was in a spot easier for me to reach."

As the mech went back to work, still whining and grumbling, Blaze turned to Ironhide with a sigh.

"War is pit." He said, "But fraggit, peace is turning out to be even worse!"

Ironhide grunted. He was starting to come to the same conclusion.

XxXxXx

2027

Earth

After a fruitless search Lennox and his men gave up and left the town ruins. Despite their burning desire for it to be otherwise there just was no getting around the bare truth; there simply wasn't anything left to salvage. In fact, Lennox was starting to believe that, short of traveling hundreds of miles deep into Thrall territory, there was nothing left to salvage at all anywhere. If they needed supplies there was only one place left to go.

"I hate the City." Lennox griped to his wife hours later when they returned to the compound.

"That's why we live out here in the Wastelands instead of in the City." Sarah reminded him, not looking up from the ripped shirt she was mending.

The Wastelands. The name left a sour taste on the tongues of those who once called the region home. Only the hardiest of plants and animals survived the Thrall attack, leaving the once rather plentiful land hot, dry and bare, torn and laid open to the harsh sun. The compound itself was actually Lennox's old ranch converted to encompass the surviving NEST members, their remaining family and what they needed to survive. The picturesque ranch house was gone, replaced by metal and wood structures dividing out individual hovels just barely able to be labeled habitable. But it was the only home they had. After the Autobots had been ousted, NEST had been ostracized from society. They carved out their existence in the hostile land as stubbornly as they had once battled Decepticons, unwelcome in the City and turned away from whatever small villages dotted the country.

"The kids said they would go for you." Sarah said.

"Uh-uh, no way." Lennox instantly protested, "The frag I'm going to let the kids go into that place."

Sarah smiled wanly at the Cybertronian cuss word, "You forget Will…they are hardly little any longer. Anna is an adult now."

His protests died on his tongue. It was true. The kids; his own Annabelle, Aidyn, Sasha and Cory. They had been toddlers and infants when the Autobots had left earth. They had the barest memories of them…or none at all save what their imaginations came up with when they were told stories.

"Doesn't matter how old they get…they're still our babies." Sarah and Lennox turned to see Adam Knight, the father of Aidyn and Cory, walk up.

"They're adults and almost adults yes…but they don't need to go into the City." Adam continued, "I'll go. You, Epps and Murray went last time."

"Not by yourself you won't." Sarah admonished, giving him her best mother glare over the shirt.

"Nah, I'll take Eric." Adam nudged the medic as he walked by, "That'll be good enough. Any more will only attract unwanted attention."

Lennox sighed. As much as he wanted everyone to avoid the City as much as possible, it was a sound plan. "Alright, just be careful. Hey, speaking of kids, where are they?"

"Oh they finished their chores and wanted to go out so I let them go…told them to be home by nightfall." Sarah said, gesturing towards the distant hills, "They headed that way."

"Great. Good place to get into trouble."

"Will!"

"Sorry, babe."

XxXxXx

2010

General Morshower rubbed his face wearily as he fielded yet another demanding email from his cramped airplane seat. To say that NEST's current situation was officially screwed up was an understatement. In fact, things were so bad that he couldn't remember a time in his entire illustrious career when things were so deep in the crapper. That or the age of technology was only making it seem worse, he thought as he glared at his insistent cell phone as it flashing and beeped to signal yet another email.

Hitting the ignore button for now, he sighed and looked out the tiny window of the plane for the first time since taking off from California. He was well aware that the military making him fly civilian airlines instead of a military transport to DC was meant to be an insult. The insult itself didn't bother him – it was too petty and childish to waste energy getting upset over – but the motivation behind it bothered him. This meant that the military was no longer behind them. Apparently, getting the world governments in an uproar spooked them into "save our ass" mode, abandoning NEST and the Autobots to their own defense.

The ground far below, laid out in organized grids of farmland and woods, rivers snaking through occasionally, was distinctly closer, heralding their descent. The pilot's voice came on, announcing what Morshower already had guessed and advising that all electronics be turned off for the remainder of their flight.

Normally this was the most irritating part of a plane ride to the general who tried to get as much work done as possible on a plane ride. He would be left with virtually nothing to do until he was released from the plane but this time he didn't mind; he now had an excuse to ignore the messages and emails from various military and government officials. It was his last few moments of peace before he waded into the slag fest brewing at their feet.

"American Airlines welcomes you to Washington DC."

Welcome to hell more like.

Oooooo

The flame decorated rig sitting quietly in a hangar certainly drew plenty of attention from those at Fort McNair. Optimus knew it had nothing to do with his alt mode itself, trucks were common enough at a military base, even one as colorful as him, but had everything to do that they all now recognized the Autobot insignia on his front grill. It drew a myriad of reactions; everything from suspicion and anger to fear and mistrust to amazement and open wonder. Sadly, the latter happened far less often than the others.

Optimus tore his attention away from the activity of the base to the bright colored search and rescue hummer next to him. Ratchet had been uncharacteristically quiet for a while now and Optimus fervently hoped that it was because he had found something interesting to do on the Internet. He did not want to deal with Ratchet in a bad mood on top of everything.

"I have to wonder…" Ratchet's comm. nearly caught him off guard, "Did we just get lucky that we met the humans that we did? Granted, innocent people died but we saved their fragging planet and they despise us for it."

"Do you remember Palton?" Optimus asked.

"How could I forget?" Ratchet's tone was snippy, "Town of neutrals. Wanted nothing to do with the war. They just had the misfortune of being stuck directly between Iacon and Trypticon. Was only a matter of time before it got caught in crossfire."

"Do you remember what happened after that battle?"

"Yes…I was there. We went in…but we were too late." Ratchet said, sadness lacing his voice, "We rescued who we could but…they hated us. They blamed us. We never wanted them to get hurt! Neutrals were…neutral. They should never had been involved but they were and they died."

"The same is happening again here, my friend." Optimus said gently.

"That's hardly reassuring Optimus." Ratchet snapped again, "They never forgave us. Those that lived went so far as to join the Decepticons, the very mechs that tried to kill them!"

Optimus knew that. He remembered it very clearly, remembered the shock and outrage many had expressed but, to be honest, it did not surprise him very much. They had been the failed heros, the ones who had arrived far too late. When it became impossible to punish those who had directly committed the crime, those that failed to prevent it were the next best thing to lash out at. The hate, fear and pain was so raw in many of them that it was far too easy to just join the Decepticons, where those emotions were embraced and turned into bloodlust.

"I don't have an easy answer for you Ratchet." Prime said, "I really wish I did though."

The door to the hangar closing interrupted any reply Ratchet had, several people ducking in and walking towards them.

"We finally meet face-to-face, Prime."

In answer Optimus transformed, parts folding and flipping, panels shifting around to form armor. He rose up as his body unfolded from the truck disguise, waiting for the last few changes to take place before kneeling down. Like most of his Autobots, he never tired of seeing the look of amazement on humans' faces when they watched a mech transform.

"Well met General Morshower, Lennox, Epps." Optimus nodded to the two men flanking the general.

Morshower considered the Autobot in front of him. He had never actually seen Optimus. He had heard his voice over satellite conference many times, had heard him transform, had gotten a few grainy blurs of him on a battlefield via spy plane shots but none of it gave justice to the mech. He was big, yes, but his presence was even bigger. With this bot in a room, everything else seemed to shrink in size and importance. "Wish it was under better circumstances."

"Agreed."

"Prime, I'll be blunt because we don't have time for sugar-coating." Morshower stated, "We're in deep shit and it's us against the world in every sense of the term."

"I assume by 'us' you mean just NEST." Ratchet broke it, transforming as well.

Morshower nodded, "And we aren't exactly high on anyone's list of favorites at the moment. Governments all over the world are hopping up and down in rage. Worse yet, they're actually listening to one another and agreeing. I hate to just drop the ball like this, but they've already come together and started debating."

"So nice of them to start a debate without the subject of the debate there to plead their case." Ratchet snipped sarcastically, "Really, the similarities between earth's government and Cybertron's are UNCANNY. No wonder I hated it so bad."

Optimus barely heard him. No stranger to politics, he knew what that meant when such debates took place without the subject there.

They had already lost.

XxXxXx

A/N: WHEE! Thank you SOOO much for all the AWESOME reviews! Keeps my addiction fed and the writing juices flowing. Special thanks to DracinaStormsailor for proof-reading!

Once again, OCs are mine (Redblaze, Adam etc…) please don't use them unless you ask me. I WILL let you but I would LOVE to see them in action. Plus I can then give you a list of what they like to eat, when their bedtimes are etc…However, Eric, Sasha and this particular version of Barricade belong to DracinaStormsailor. Thanks hon for letting me borrow them! (more OC's to come). And yes I said Blaze was Ironhide's brother. Not actual brother but grew up with him sort of brother.

Also, I don't go totally with the thing about the Allspark being the sole source of life. Granted, it's alien enough but really…if the Allspark was the ONLY source of life for the Cybertronians, WHERE did the SPARKLINGS in Revenge of the Fallen come from? That one has kept me up nights…mostly because it was STARSCREAM and the FALLEN on that ship…*runs screaming for brain bleach*

I want to apologize for the long time between updates. Work had been eating me alive and between that and getting my own place and getting school all set up…ugh. The "vacation" part in summer vacation was merely a suggestion. However, I woke up at friggen 5 am with this thought "oh GOD I HAVE to get the second chapter out!" so here it is…7:33 am. Just to show how much I love you guys.

And I'm probably not going to use DotM references in here. I'm still crying/squealing over it but the only part I'm using is that Megatron is dead. Poof! He's dead.