Our home, our once proud race, was torn apart by endless civil war between the Autobots, who fight for the freedom of all sentient beings, and the Decepticons, who fight for power. Cybertron, our beautiful home, now lies ruined after countless millennia of fighting. It seems organics have difficulty imagining our metal world as a home, but Cybertron flourished once. It nurtured us and gave us a safe haven, and it was the only place in the universe that produced the energon we need to live. Now it is a cold, dead husk, and our people must wander the stars in search of energy and a place to stay, all the while bringing the war between Autobot and Decepticon wherever we go. Cybertron gave our kind everything we needed. We had a paradise, and all we had to do was live in peace. But we could not tame the savagery in our sparks, and we proved unworthy, and now the paradise is no more.

In retrospect, it's easy to say that the war never should have been fought, but we had good reasons for taking up arms once. For a time, the Decepticons stood for a far more noble goal. Equality.

Before the war, we lived in peace, but were controlled by an oppressive autocracy. Our society was built around a caste system, and we were built into those castes. Laborers were built to be laborers. Soldiers were built to be soldiers. Librarians were built to be librarians. We were assigned our castes the moment we came online. A set of beliefs, Functionism, justified the caste system. The Functionists believed that a Cybertronian's worth was determined by their alternate mode. For example, a Cybertronian who became a mining vehicle had to be a miner, while one that became a supercomputer would be allowed to pursue scientific careers. There was no freedom to do what you wanted. There was no innovation. We were prosperous, but stagnant.

The caste system was enforced by the government. The leader of our people, the Prime, was supposed to be the embodiment of everything a Cybertronian could be. The Prime's rule was justified by the Matrix of Leadership, supposedly made by our creator, Primus, himself. Sentinel Prime lead our people before the war broke out, and he was said to have once been a great warrior and charismatic leader. Once. He became reclusive and allowed the caste system to dominate our civilization, and by the time the Decepticon uprising began, he'd overseen the rise of repression and corruption. Besides the Prime, laws were made by a governing body called the Senate, and enforced by a governing body called the High Council.

Back then, there was no Megatron. Only a miner who didn't even have a name. Under the caste system he was nothing more than a drone, and he was only given a designation, D-16. Society told him he was only good for manual labor, but D-16 desperately wanted to bring an end to the caste system and create a society where all Cybertronians were equal. Before long, many people had become inspired by his rhetoric.

Including, for a time, myself.

- Optimus Prime

"What is this? Not more poetry?"

D-16 took another sip of his drink as he casually glanced outside the window. At first glance, the surface of the entirely metallic world of Cybertron looked like it was covered by one massive city. The twisting and intricate metal structures that dotted the planet, to the point that the surface looked like an irregular patchwork of constructions from orbit, seemed no different from one another. Yet, at least to D-16, there was something about the city of Iacon that made it stand out from all the rest.

The capital city of Cybertron was located very close to the planet's North Pole. Like all cities on the homeworld of the Transformers, it consisted of nothing more than metal structures rising from the already metal surface of the world, but many things made it unique to Cybertronians like D-16. The mining drone was fascinated by the way the light of Cybertron's binary suns danced off the tips of the buildings, and radiated off the golden-hued alloy used to construct them. The way the structures had conical tops and a sleek, elegant curving architectural style that made them look almost like they could take off into the heavens. The way the entire city seemed like it was built as a monument to aspirations. There was nothing like it on all of Cybertron.

Most of the residents of Iacon had long since gotten used to the city, but D-16 never took it for granted. He didn't spend most of his time on the surface. The mining drone spent most of his time in the energon mines under Nova Point, where he couldn't even see the suns, let alone the buildings. The city of Iacon was his to experience only when he was occasionally granted a few planetary cycles of leave from work, and that only came every few deca-cycles. Even now, as he looked over the wondrous city through the window, D-16 couldn't help but think about when he would inevitably have to go back to the mines. He wanted to enjoy the beauty of the surface for as long as he could before then, and he took it all in as he sipped a glowing, purple liquid from his glass.

"No, not poetry." D-16 answered as he remembered his friend's question. "It's more of a… of a treatise."

"Yeesh, D-16. It's long. Where did you find the time to think about all this, let alone write it."

"I may have the programming of a simple mining drone, but carrying energon back and forth uses very little of my processing power. I have a lot of time to think about these things."

On this particular planetary cycle, D-16 was enjoying a drink at Maccadam's Old Oil House, the finest, or at least most popular, drinking establishment in all of Iacon. The oil at Maccadam's was exceptionally smooth, but D-16, contrary to the stereotypes of working class bots, didn't favor stronger drinks. He was content with a simple glass of energulp, a commercialized beverage that was like the Cybertronian equivalent of a soft drink. His friend, a fellow mining drone named I-14, preferred a strong red-orange glowing beverage called engex, and several empty glasses still pulsing with the residue of the hard drink littered his side of the table. "Promise it ain't poetry? You have some real fluffy writing there, but it just ain't my thing."

"It's not poetry this time. It's something I've put a lot of work into. It's about the state of all Cybertronian society. I started writing it after those protestors were shot." D-16 gave a hopeful smile. "I'd really like to know what you think."

I-14 took a swig of engex as he read over his friend's work on the datapad he'd been handed. "There really is a lot of thought put into this. You're one of the strangest mining drones I've ever met, D-16. We weren't built for thinking, but no one ever told you that, huh?"

D-16 scowled as he looked down to his chassis. Everything about D-16 and I-14 betrayed their status as mining drones. Their bodies, with D-16 standing at about 9.5 meters and I-14 a little taller, were thick and stocky, and they both possessed incredible raw strength. Whereas the bodies of upper caste Cybertronians were sleek, elegant, and personalized, drones like D-16 had utilitarian, mass produced bodies that were hardly appealing to the eyes. D-16's chassis was colored light grey, with black as a secondary color, and I-14 was purple with yellow as a secondary color. These dull and faded colors were further drowned out by the yellow and black caution stripes that emblazoned the bodies of both drones at various places, including their heads. The faces of mining drones were simple, and even then, D-16 and I-14 had to upgrade to the expressive, humanoid faces they now had. When first built, mining drones like them had faces consisting of little more than a visor and a mouthplate. D-16 literally had to purchase his mouth, nose, and conventional looking optics. The kibble, or the pieces of a Cybertronian's alt mode that had nowhere to go when they were transformed, of D-16's mining vehicle form was quite visible. One glance at the continuous tracks that stuck out from his shoulders and rose above his head made it obvious that he turned into a treaded mining hauler. Last, but certainly not least, drones like D-16 didn't even have real names. Only upper caste Cybertronians had unique and memorable names, like Starscream, or Proteus, or Sentinel Prime. Middle caste Cybertronians had simple names like Orion Pax, Dragster, or Drivetrain, but at least those were still names. Lower caste drones had only alphanumeric designations. To make matters worse, a simple designation like D-16 couldn't possibly be unique in a world of hundreds of millions of Cybertronians. The mining drone in question was D-16 to those in his mine, but his full designation was D-16 VSX 071-980. Simply saying his "name" to anyone that asked immediately showed his status in the planet's social system.

Make no mistake, drones like D-16 were fully sapient life forms, but Cybertronian society viewed them much like humans view robots. They were laborers. Nothing more.

D-16 scowled as he took another sip of energulp and thought about I-14's statement. "I know I'm a mining drone! Every planetary cycle society reminds me I'm a drone. I'm reminded that I'm a drone every time I have to say my designation! That doesn't mean I can't think. This society never provided me with anything but the programming I need to mine energon, and yet I've managed to become a poet, a philosopher, and an author. What greater argument against this caste system of ours is there? Society says I'm good for nothing but mining, but I have have proven them wrong! All Cybertronians have a potential beyond what society says they're supposed to be, and we should all be free to realize that!"

"Woah, slow down there, '16. You're getting ahead of yourself. You're not an author unless you've published something."

"But that's the beauty of our planet's DataNet. Anyone with a datapad and a connection can make their views known. There's no place for a drone like me to actually publish anything, but I've found sites that allow me to show my writings to other people."

I-14 gave him a curious look. "There are sites where people can criticize the government?"

"Obviously the Senate wouldn't allow that, but there are loopholes. I found a site for user submitted fiction. People post stories they've written, and readers can follow those stories. They can even leave reviews. Thing is, the site isn't strict about what's posted there. I've submitted my political writings there before, and people have used that site to read them. I've gotten reviews, even followers! I believe there are people like me out there. People dissatisfied with the caste system. If I can reach those people, then maybe I can inspire them."

"Hold up. You're putting yourself out there as a dissident?"

"I've taken precautions, I-14. I don't post as D-16, the energon miner who works in Nova Point. To be honest, I wonder if people would take me seriously if they knew I was a drone." D-16 frowned, bitter about the classism he regularly faced, but he perked up a bit as he continued to talk. "I have a username. On the DataNet, I'm Megatronus! The intellectual!"

D-16 had an innocent glee, but his smiled faded as I-14 chuckled. "Have I had too much engex, or did you just say you called yourself Megatronus?"

"I thought it was inspiring?"

"Oh, yeah. A lowly drone posting as a DataNet tough guy named Megatronus. Real inspiring. Where have I heard that name before?"

"It's from mythology. Megatronus was one of the thirteen original Transformers. The one who became The Fallen. He rebelled against society, and that's why I chose the name. I want to inspire change."

"Look, you're a nice bot, D-16, but everyone has dreams. Opinions too. That's why they're so cheap. Actions speak louder than words."

"I agree. That's why I wrote the treatise. I want to inspire people to rise up against the Cybertronian government. I want a revolution. Only then will the Senate and the High Council feel pressured to change."

"What kind of revolution?"

D-16 motioned towards the datapad. "Why don't you read and find out? I'd love to hear your thoughts."

"Alright, alright. Keep your chest plate bolted on." I-14 finished his drink and thrusted his arm into the air. "Waiter! Another drink!"

I-14 took the time to read over D-16's writings, and he'd gone through two more glasses of engex before he finished. He was starting to become uncoordinated in his movements, as too much engex caused a state similar to intoxication in Transformers, but D-16 was hopeful that he'd still be able to articulate his thoughts. His friendship with I-14 was an odd one, as the drone in question was a simple bot who spent his cycles thinking about engex and oil instead of political movements, but D-16 appreciated his brunt, straight forward criticisms. "Well? What did you think?"

"It's got an interesting name. 'After the Proudstar: Sentinel Prime and the Illusion of Progress'. What does that mean?"

"Well the Proudstar was the name of Nova Prime's ship." There was a twinkle in D-16's eyes as he talked about the idealized image of the past he had. "Tens of millions of stellar cycles ago, before Sentinel Prime, Cybertron was a vast spacefaring civilization. Every celestial object in the night sky was within reach of those Cybertronian pioneers. People were only limited by their imaginations. Back then Cybertronians were colonizing distant star systems. Now we toil away in mines where we can't even see our own suns! Back then the Prime didn't sit around lording over the planet like he does now. Back then Nova Prime actually lead a team of scientists and explorers on his ship. Back then the Prime was actually at the forefront of progress. Back then Cybertron stood for aspirations! Now there is no aspiration. People are forced into castes simply because of what they transform into. There's no room for innovation! Creativity! Sentinel Prime, and the Senators, and Councilors would tell you this is necessary for stability and order. It's a disease!" D-16 pointed to his datapad. "That's the cure."

"You really don't like Sentinel Prime, do you?"

"The Prime is just the figurehead of the government. The Senate and the Grand Council are part of the problem too. Maybe no revolution can change Sentinel's mind, but public pressure could actually influence the other politicians. They can't completely ignore what the people think. We just have to inspire enough people into protesting." D-16 leaned over in his chair to look at his datapad screen. "But surely there's something that you found interesting besides just the name?"

I-14 looked back to the datapad. "You talk a lot about non-violent resistance. What's that going to solve? Why don't we just round up a few hundred miners, bust out the neutron rifles, and shoot our way into the Council Chambers?"

I-14 said that largely in jest, but D-16 looked around nervously anyways. "No! Violence isn't the answer. The government has the Security Forces at its command, and drones like us couldn't possibly beat them. Beyond that, if we use violence, they'll label us as terrorists. I don't want to terrorize people. I want to inspire them! The revolution will be about ideas. If all the people of Cybertron demanded change, the Senate and the Council would be forced to listen. Think about it. Our whole planet united in a desire for a better world. It would be beautiful."

"With you in charge?"

"It's not about me!" D-16 insisted, standing up as he spoke. "It's about all of us."

"I don't know. Do you really think non-violence would work?" I-14 took another swig. "You talk about the hundreds of millions of drones all marching as one, but what happens when Big Iacon comes knocking while you're just getting started? What's going to stop them from throwing you in a cell? Your revolution could die right then and there, and what would prevent that from happening, D-16?"

D-16 swirled his energulp around. "They can't stop us all." He responded meekly.

"Violence is at the heart of any government's control. I mean, when the supervisor gets angry, he doesn't sit us down and talk about what we did. He just takes his fraggin' stun rod and beats us until we can't tell our hard drives from our exhaust ports. 'Course, I can't remember the last time he got mad at you since you're such a good little bot to all the supervisors. If only they knew how you really thought about society."

"I have to lay low to prevent them from repressing us, but one day we'll be able to stand against them."

"How are you going to get enough support to start this revolution if you spend all your time hiding?"

"The DataNet allows me to connect with other Cybertronians."

"Is that enough?"

"I… don't know."

"Clean it up!"

The two drones looked uneasily towards the bar to see two large Cybertronians, wings prominently sticking out of their sides, arguing with a much smaller one over a spilled drink. The surrounded bot was mainly white, with red as a secondary color, and seemed to convert into a sleek car. That would make him part of a higher caste than D-16, but the drone couldn't tell exactly what caste he belonged to. He couldn't have been higher than middle caste. The two harassing him clearly turned into aircraft, and that made them upper caste. "Look, it's not my job to clean it up. I'm not a service drone."

"You're whatever we say you are!" One of the winged instigators pointed towards an emblem on his wing. The symbol resembled two chevrons with a smaller chevron pointed up at the top and three wing esque bars coming from the side. The symbol of the Cybertronian Security Forces. The other bot sighed.

"You two probably spilled that in your drunken fumbling, but I'll make you a deal. I'll buy you another, but I'm not cleaning it up."

I-14 returned to his drink. "Those two look like Seeker cadets. Best that we stay out of this. Just don't look at 'em."

The Seekers were an elite group in the Security Forces, defined by their space capable fighter plane altmodes. In a society where social standing was defined by one's altmode, few things were considered more prestigious than a fighter plane. "Y-Yeah. Good idea."

"Look, D-16, I hate the way things are as much as you do, but inequality is a fact of life. Put two bots in a room and one will try to establish dominance over the other. Now apply that to all of Cybertron. Everyone always dreams of being a Seeker, or a scientist, or a doctor, or a Senator, but no one ever wants to be a miner, or a custodian, or a Constructicon, or a lamppost. People have to work those jobs for society to function."

"I know the division of labor is a complicated problem that has no easy answer, but that doesn't mean people should be forced to work these jobs. Furthermore, the working castes have no say in the government. I think it stands to reason that the necessity of a privileged order to lord over the rest of us is a fallacy. Drones like us possess everything that is needed in the maintenance of civilization. We are all society needs, but we are chained by the ruling castes."

Meanwhile, the argument between the two cadets and the other bot deteriorated. "You forget your place in the world." One of the Seeker cadets spat. "Tell you what. Why don't you get on your knees and stay there while we finish the ten drinks you're going to order us, and we'll think about letting you keep those knees. Do we have an understanding?"

The white and red Cybertronian only responded with a glare as D-16 continued his conversation. "So what are we supposed to do, I-14? Accept our lot in life? Spend our time mining energon for a society that doesn't consider us to-"

D-16 and I-14 were interrupted as the red and white bot was thrown across their table, scattering I-14's empty glasses and spilling engex all over him. D-16 looked down to see that his head had been slammed against the window, seemingly knocking him unconscious. He then turned in a panic to find an enraged I-14 leaving the table. "Well I was going to let that argument over there slide, and I probably would if I wasn't drunk, but seeing that I'm five quarts of energon to the wind, I think I'm going to give those two a lesson in manners."

"W-Wait, I-14! What are you going to say to them?!"

"I'm not saying slag to 'em! I'm going to handle this the way I know how." I-14 retracted his right hand into his arm, and it was replaced with a mining drill. "See how violence solves problems, D-16?"

"Wait! Don't!"

I-14 ignored his friend, and he'd already severed the arm of one of the surprised cadets before D-16 could get up. Unsure of what to do, D-16 did the only thing that immediately came to him.

He cowered under the table.

In a fortified area of Iacon, sealed off from civilians, stood the Grand Imperium. The foundation for this massive edifice was molded into the surface of Cybertron itself, such that it seemed more like a hill than a building. At the top of this structure was the building itself. It did not rise from the artificial hill, but instead appeared to be sculpted out of it. The base of it was a large ring like structure equal in elevation with the top of the foundation, and above that was a smaller ring with a dome on top of it. Though all of Iacon's buildings glistened with a golden hue, the Grand Imperium stood above virtually all of them in splendor. The alloys used to construct it somehow seemed to reflect the light of the system's binary suns back brighter than it originally was, and the dome was a radiant light blue. Finally, the symbol of Cybertron's Senate adorned the entrance to the main structure. The symbol itself featured a shield like base with a crest at the top that had four spikes protruding upwards. Six wing esque bars came out of the side, much like the symbol of the Security Forces, but these were much longer. The majority of the symbol was gold, but the space between the top and middle wings was dark blue, arranged in a pattern reminiscent of the leathery membrane between the finger bones of a bat wing. This symbol adorned the buildings and ships of the Senate. If someone had that symbol on them, then they were basically better than you.

To top it all off, the main chamber of the building was decorated by a massive golden statue of Prima, one of the Thirteen and supposedly the first Transformer ever created. Prima was depicted with the Matrix of Leadership, supposedly given to him by Primus and carried by every Prime, including the current one. At the base of the statue was an inscription. "Freedom is the right of all civilized beings"

"When people remember Jhiaxus, many troubling thoughts come to mind. To me, though, my mentor was a paragon of knowledge and innovation in Cybertron." Within the chambers of the Grand Imperium, about a dozen members of the Senate listened intently to a presentation given by a brand new colleague of theirs. In fact, this was his very first planetary cycle as Senator. The Senator in question spoke eagerly as he motioned towards a presentation he'd prepared. "That's why I'd like to commemorate my ascension to the Senate by announcing the inauguration of the Jhiaxian Academy of Advanced Technology! Jhiaxus was willing to give all he had for the good of Cybertron. We all can give something for the greater good, and this is my gift to science. To all of Cybertron. This facility will serve to advance research on countless fields, and it will save the lives of millions online, and yet to be online."

The Senators in the room clapped as the their new colleague took a bow. "Such an impassioned speech. Though, based on your reputation, I should have expected nothing less from you, Senator Shockwave."

Shockwave, previously a member of the scientific caste, looked nervously towards the Senator approaching him. Shockwave had been a scientist for as long as he could remember, but unlike many of his peers, he hadn't been assigned to the role. Shockwave was millions of cycles older than the caste system. He had I-chosen to be a scientist because he knew in his spark that it was what he wanted to do. Despite that, or maybe even because of it, he excelled at scientific endeavors just as much as Cybertronians that had been programmed for the role. His success was essentially an argument against the necessity of the castes, and Shockwave himself hated the status quo. He'd been warned his radical views wouldn't be accepted by many of the Senators, and so he'd hoped he could at least impress them with the announcement of the academy's inauguration, but he still tensed up as the large, winged Senator colored blue, white, and orange in front of him walked forward. "Based on my reputation?"

"Your reputation of supporting Jhiaxus. Omega Supreme warned me about the cruel experiments perpetuated by that scientist."

"I know my mentor has a controversial legacy, but Omega Supreme doesn't know me."

"Fair enough." The Senator extended his arm, and Shockwave nervously shook hands with him. "Dai Atlas."

"Nice to meet you. I do understand your point. Jhiaxus went too far at times, but he was a great scientist. I'm not necessarily trying to celebrate his missteps. I just want to remind people of his accomplishments."

"In any case, perhaps you should keep an eye open, Shockwave."

"Pardon me, Dai Atlas." Both of them turned to see another Senator approaching. He was shorter than Dai Atlas, about equal with Shockwave in height, and his chassis featured an eye catching combination of red, blue, and yellow. The wheels in his arms and legs, along with his size, suggested that he turned into a kind of car. Senators were more diverse in their alt modes than working class Cybertronians, but they all valued opulence. The Senator's alt mode was likely the Cybertronian equivalent of a supercar. Someone like him couldn't be seen slumming it as a working class vehicle. "I'd like to have a word with the new Senator."

Dai Atlas nodded as he turned and walked away. "Of course, Senator Proteus. Peace to you, Shockwave."

Shockwave shook hands with Proteus as the Senator gave a small smile. "That was quite the dramatic first day, my friend. It's not every cycle that a new Senator comes in already accomplishing public work projects."

"I seek to help Cybertron, Proteus. That's why I became a Senator."

"So tell me. How does a scientist desire to become a member of the Senate? Usually you scientist types are so engrossed in your work. You don't seem to like government types."

"I just feel that people like me need to be in a position to change society." Shockwave shifted around uncomfortably. "Err, that came across as a little egotistical, didn't it?"

"Ha! You're not a scientist anymore, friend. A healthy ego is at the heart of every Senator. Without egos, no one would ever rise to be leaders. You have to put yourself first to be a leader, do you not?"

"I suppose. Have you read much about me, Proteus?"

"I hardly needed to. I can tell what you were from your alt mode. A supercomputer, right?"

Shockwave looked down to his own chassis. The new Senator was actually rather vain, and he took great pride in his appearance. His face was detailed and expressive, considered aesthetically pleasing by Transformer standards, and he was painted in a tasteful combination of gold and blue. Shockwave actually liked to express himself by frequently changing his colors. Today he was blue and gold. Tomorrow he might be blue and red. Shockwave was also proud to be a supercomputer, not because he really liked actually working as one, but because there was a minimal amount of kibble to affect his appearance. He couldn't bear the thought of having wheels, or treads, or wings sticking out of him. As a computer, Shockwave could process in seconds data other Cybertronians needed deca-cycles to process. As useful as this was, Shockwave always thought his thinking was too… logical in his alt form. It lacked heart. Thankfully the requisite hardware only aligned properly when he was transformed, so he didn't have to worry about it affecting his normal thoughts. "You can tell I'm a supercomputer? Most people can't. Heh, some people have guessed that I convert into some kind of box."

"Oh, I'm quite well versed with the alt modes our race can take. It's part of being a Functionist."

Shockwave's eyes narrowed. "A Functionist…"

"I take it you have preconceived notions on Functionists?"

"I've never agreed with it. Why should Cybertronians be forced into certain castes just because of what they turn into?"

"Functionism is at the heart of order and stability in our society. We are Transformers, are we not? We are defined by our ability to take different forms."

"I prefer the term Cybertronian."

Proteus continued. "Your usefulness to society is based on your alt mode. After all, a construction vehicle is useful for, well, construction. Why would it make sense for a Transformer who turns into a construction vehicle to be a pilot, or a scientist?"

"I suppose that is… logical, but why should these lower castes be so underrepresented in the government?"

"Functionist teachings tell us that those with superior alt modes, such as ourselves, should reign over those who turn into things like construction vehicles, or lampposts, or projectors. Speaking of which…" Proteus looked over to the projector, which was still displaying a schematic of Shockwave's academy. He grabbed it and threw it across the room. "What are you still doing here?! Begone, wretch!"

The projector transformed into a diminutive bot as it flew. "Ow! Ahoo, yessir! Whatever you say, sir! I'll be going as you say, sir!"

Shockwave looked on in surprise as the projector bot scurried out of the room. "The projector was… I didn't realize it-he was a Cybertronian."

"Barely. A disposable. They're not really sapient."

"No! NO! That's not true!" Shockwave snapped. "Our actions, our thoughts, define who we are! Not our alt modes! All Cybertronians are equal under Primus!"

Proteus glared back. "Such an emotional outburst is unbecoming of a Senator."

It had looked like Proteus was going to say more to Shockwave, but he simply turned and walked away. Several other Senators had also gathered nearby to speak with their new colleague, but they too lost interest. Some seemed to despise him for criticizing Proteus. Others looked like they still wanted to meet him, but feared interacting in the belief that doing so would be going against Proteus. Either way, none of the other Senators talked to him after that.

But one he'd already met smiled as he brought his optics on Shockwave.

-\\- #210-790 SHOCKWAVE#100-811 * ALERT: ID#210-790 SENATE LEVEL AUTHORITY AUTHENTICATED *

-\ WELL, THAT WAS QUITE THE OUTBURST. \-

Shockwave turned to Dai Atlas, still standing nearby, in confusion. Being robots, Transformers aren't limited to just vocal communication. They're fully capable of sending communications directly to one another whenever they want to talk in private, though it was usually considered impersonal. Shockwave's fellow Senators now had access to his personal frequency. Shockwave himself had yet to update his own systems with his Senator status, and he had to manually stop his internal subroutines from blaring that a "big and important Senator" was contacting a "lowly scientist" like him. Shockwave looked inquisitively at Dai Atlas as he responded.

–– I THOUGHT YOU WERE WARY OF ME, DAI ATLAS.

-\ YES, BUT I LIKED THE WAY YOU TALKED TO PROTEUS. HE'S NO FRIEND OF MINE. \-

–– ANYTHING YOU HAVE TO SAY TO ME, YOU CAN SAY IN FRONT OF EVERYONE.

Shockwave could see Dai Atlas chuckle as he began to walk away.

-\ YOU HAVEN'T BEEN A SENATOR LONG. PROTEUS IS POWERFUL. \-

–– I CAN HANDLE HIM MYSELF.

-\ NO YOU CAN'T. YOU'RE ON HIS SCRAP LIST NOW, SO UNLESS YOU WANT TO SPEND THE NEXT FEW DECA-CYCLES KISSING HIS ACTUATOR, YOU NEED ALLIES. WE SHOULD TALK. \-

–– WE ARE TALKING.

-\ NO. WE'RE COMMUNICATING LIKE DRONES. LET'S TALK. \-

Though they often referred to themselves as Cybertronians, the Transformers weren't the only life forms to inhabit Cybertron and its four moons. Long before it became an ecumenopolis, the metal world harbored vast wilderness that teemed with mechanical "beasts". As the Transformers spread, these areas were reformatted into cities and industrial areas, and the other denizens of the world were either driven to extinction or reverse engineered into "civilized" beings. Even then, Transformers with non-humanoid forms were treated as second class citizens, regardless of how intelligent they actually were, and they'd become rarer and rarer as the cycles went by.

Supposedly native to Cybertron's largest moon of Luna 1, the Mini-Cons represented another sentient race from the system. Mini-Cons were nigh identical to their "bulk" partners in terms of both physiology and psychology, but whereas Transformers were a few meters tall at the least, Mini-Cons were only one meter tall. Transformers couldn't navigate their lunar settlements, and in turn, Mini-Cons were easily lost in cities scaled towards their larger counterparts. The Mini-Cons also spoke a language that their counterparts heard as high pitched mechanical noises, and themselves heard the Transformer language as a low, droning noise. Many Mini-Cons living on Cybertron learned the bulk language to communicate with them, but it was rare that any Transformer bothered to reciprocate.

Mini-Cons were not respected on Cybertron. Many Transformers viewed them as inferior and untrustworthy, and they were often perceived as useless. Beyond that, Mini-Cons didn't fit into the planet's caste system at all. Functionist doctrine taught that a Cybertronian's usefulness to society was based on their alt mode, but Mini-Cons were simply too diminutive for this to apply. If a Cybertronian transforms into a forklift, than you can have him as a laborer. Though the Mini-Cons had as many alt modes as their bulk counterparts, their small size carried over. A Mini-Con that transforms into a forklift can't work the same jobs as a Transformer when the forklift is child sized. A Mini-Con fighter jet won't have the same firepower. A Mini-Con car isn't as fast. Etc. Their very existence threw a wrench in the justifications for the autocracy, and so the government preferred to largely ignore and marginalize them. The Mini-Con society was communal, and all Mini-Cons were treated equally. The Cybertronian government hated them for it.

Still, the hundreds of thousands of Mini-Cons on Cybertron had representation on the High Council in the form of Councillor Ratbat. For all the prejudice his kind faced, Ratbat had quietly amassed a massive private fortune over the millions of stellar cycles through extortion, investments, blackmail, trafficking, and all round corruption. He was one of the most powerful bots on Cybertron, and no one dared to look down on him or anyone connected to him.

That said, Ratbat's associates faced plenty of abuse from their own boss.

"So I said to him, 'Cybertron's salvation? Yeah, right. You want the energon, Councillor, you get it yourself. I'm not going back in there.' It felt good too."

"No you didn't."

"The Council would have extracted your spark for saying that."

Ravage, Laserbeak, and Buzzsaw served as Ratbat's aides. In theory this made them some of the most important Mini-Cons on the planet, but they were little more than servants in the Councillor's eyes. It was bad enough that they were frequently sent on monotonous errands, but Ratbat often forced them to assist him in less than legal practices.

Though standardization had been forced on the Transformers over time, many Mini-Cons still had beast like robot forms. Laserbeak and Buzzsaw, who were identical besides their color schemes, were birdlike. Their metal wings never moved, and engines powered their flight, but they otherwise had avian features. Ravage, who was colored almost entirely jet black, resembled a panther. Though stuck on the ground, he easily kept pace with the fliers as he gracefully maneuvered through the shifting terrain of Iacon's industrial areas and back alleys. "Yeesh, never tell a story to fliers." Ravage said to himself as the trio made their way through the city, avoiding major roads and trafficked areas as Ratbat had ordered. "Look, the point isn't whether or not it happened. The point is that's what I wanted to say to him. I hate Ratbat."

"We all hate Ratbat." Laserbeak, colored red, responded.

"Complaining won't change anything." Buzzsaw, colored orange, added.

"Then why don't we change something? Why do we do these errands for him time and time again? We can hitch a shuttle to Luna 1 and live with the rest of our kind. I'll take Leader-1 and Sparkplug over Ratbat any cycle. We just don't belong here."

"But we've been on Cybertron so long." Laserbeak responded solemnly. He looked over to Buzzsaw, and the other bird seemed to nod.

"And we can't live here without Ratbat's influence. It's the only thing that protects us from harassment from the bulks. It's the only reason we can move around without the police constantly watching us."

"This planet." Ravage said, speaking in a dismissive tone. "So we're just supposed to… hold up."

Laserbeak and Buzzsaw couldn't simply ignore their momentum, so they circled overhead like vultures as Ravage stopped and perked his head up. Laserbeak flew lower as he tried to scan his surroundings. "What is it? Police?"

"No. I smell fear. It's overpowering. Intoxicating. I have to check this out."

Laserbeak and Buzzsaw followed Ravage as he prowled through the city, and the three eventually stumbled upon a bulk clutching his head with his hands while on his knees. The bot looked up to the three, and they could see that his face, such as it was, was nothing more than a yellow visor and a mouthplate. "All these noises! Lights! Sounds! Too many! I can't, I can't deal with it!" The bot's voice sounded entirely synthetic. It lacked the inflection and emotion that a normal voice had, and it was entirely monotone even as he screamed in agony.

Ravage slowly stepped forward and spoke the Cybertronian language. "Are… you okay?"

"HELP ME!"

"Who are you?"

The Cybertronian looked at the three. "I don't… so many voices! I can hear everything! You! Your name is Ravage!"

Ravage looked to Laserbeak and Buzzsaw in bewilderment as they landed. "Yes. How do you know that?"

He scurried forward. "I can see… I can hear… everyone. I know everything about everyone else, because they do. It burrows its way into my processor. I know everything. So many voices! None of them are mine!"

A small device extended from Laserbeak's head and analyzed him. "I am detecting unusual energy readings from him."

"You're an outlier, aren't you?" Ravage stepped forward and tilted his head. "A Transformer with abilities unrelated to their caste and alt form? I've heard of you guys. You bulks really like to segregate yourselves into little groups, and the cogs that just don't fit into the machine are cast out. The Functionists would have a field day with you."

He clutched his head again. "Where… where are… so many voices. All of them terrible. All of them terrible. Can't shut them out. A racer wants better tires. This is the first planetary cycle of a new Senator. There was a fight at Maccadam's Old Oil House. So many voices. I hear everything."

"Charming. Okay, I can see why you ended up in the gutter. So you have sensitive hearing?"

"Yes… and no. Not just that. I can read minds."

Buzzsaw looked to Ravage. "That's impossible!"

"I can hear thoughts. I can't turn it off."

Ravage spoke with his companions in their native tongue on the assumption that the Cybertronian couldn't understand them. "Do you think this guy is for real?"

"Mind reading?" Laserbeak answered. "I'm not sure."

"You three don't believe me, but I can. You all work directly for… Ratbat. The Mini-Con representative on the Council? You… what you're doing for him right now… it's not legal."

Ravage turned back to him. "It's not legal for a Cybertronian to be on the streets instead of working."

"I… don't stay in one place long enough for the police to find me."

"So you really can read minds? Guys… I think we should take this guy back with us. Maybe Ratbat can give him work."

Buzzsaw looked at Ravage. "You trust this guy? Besides, you hate Ratbat."

"But you were right. Ratbat's influence can protect people. Maybe… it can protect him." Ravage slowly approached the bot. "Look you… you smell like an alright guy. I can smell things like that, you know. Things others can't. What's your name?"

"Name? A real name? No, I don't have one of those. But…they gave me a nickname. They called me… Soundwave."

"I can't imagine exactly what it's like to read minds, but I think I have an idea of what you're dealing with. I had to learn to control my snout. I had to teach myself to be able to track specific things. I had to focus."

"Focus? On what?"

Ravage lowered his head, and Soundwave slowly petted him. "On anything you can."

It wasn't just the buildings of Iacon that made the city so wondrous, but the transportation systems as well. Those Cybertronians gifted with flight cruised between the buildings, and vehicles sentient and inanimate crisscrossed the streets on the surface. Perhaps most impressive of all were the Iacon speedways. Levitating ring structures attached to the sides of buildings could hover over a specific point and generate airborne roads on the fly for grounded Cybertronians that needed to skip over traffic, and the Security Officers charged with keeping order in the city frequently made use of these.

One such officer, Barricade, converted from police cruiser to humanoid form as he flung himself from an Iacon speedway and came to a stop outside of Maccadam's Old Oil House. Barricade, who was mainly white with a few yellow highlights, was responding to a disturbance at the bar. Surrounding the scene were his Autotroopers, the main security officers in major cities. Barricade only needed a brief glance to see he had enough personnel to handle whatever problem was inside, but his own superior had ordered him to wait for his arrival.

Barricade had little to do but run scans on the buildings and double check that his bots were following his orders until the Captain of Iacon's Security Officers finally arrived on the scene. Prowl, distinguished by his largely black and white colors and the rather notable cannons sticking out from in between his shoulders, was a cold, by the book kind of officer, and he'd risen to his position mainly because the Senators viewed him as non threatening to the established order. Prowl never thought to disobey an order no matter how much it inconvenienced his subordinates. "Report, Barricade." The Captain commanded as his transformation finished and the various moving parts on his body all shifted into place.

"We're in position to move in on your orders, sir."

"Make sure to establish a perimeter around the-"

"Yes, Captain. I did that already. Like I said, we're ready to move."

"Well, aren't you a genius. Tell me, Barricade. Do you turn into a police cruiser or a supercomputer?!"

Barricade scowled. "Get a virus affecting your subroutines this morning, Captain?"

"Agh, it's just that the Senate has been on my back about this incident. They want this done very particularly. The orders came from Senator Decimus himself. I didn't learn about this until I was already on my way.

"This incident? Responding to a brawl at a bar? Why would the Senate care about that?!"

"It's not our responsibility to ask questions, Barricade. Now get the Autotroopers ready."

"No wonder it took so long. We'd have dealt with this half an hour ago if the Senate hadn't stuck its nose into-"

"Move, Barricade! That's an order! Failure to comply will lead to repercussions from the Senate!"

Barricade's arm shifted into a stun weapon as he turned towards the bar. "Yeah, always nice to see you too, Prowl."

The Autotroopers burst into the bar through the doors and windows at numerous points, and Barricade followed close behind. He was immediately greeted by the sight of a drunken purple and yellow bot with a drill for a hand. On the floor next to him were the severed limbs of what looked like Seeker cadets. The cadets themselves were nowhere to be found. The drunkard immediately started to babble incoherently while stumbling towards Barricade. "Oh?! More Security Force bots?! Come here! I'll slag you all on… I mean, no. I'll on you all take… I mean I'll take you all… I mean… I mean I'll crush you into iron shavings you… you… where'd my drink go?"

Barricade callously fired several rounds from his stun weapon into the bot, and he fell to the ground in stasis lock moments later. The Autotroopers moved to secure him as Barricade searched the rest of the room, and it wasn't long before he found another individual hiding underneath a table. Barricade pointed his blaster at him, and he immediately became little more than a nervous wreck. "W-Wait! I didn't do anything!"

"Out of there!" Barricade slammed the table with his fist. "Now!"

"Okay! I'm coming out!"

He slowly crawled out, but Barricade put his foot on his back and kicked him to the floor as he tried to stand. Barricade was glad he did too, as the bot was clearly much larger than him. "I didn't say stand up. Resist, and we'll beat you into stasis lock. Got it?"

"P-Please! I'm listening! I'm listening!"

"Don't move." Barricade took out a pair of stasis cuffs and bound the bot's hands behind his back. At a higher power setting the cuffs could easily render the larger bot little more than an inanimate piece of scenery, but Barricade wanted him conscious for questioning. He had him secured by the time Prowl entered the building. "The situation is under control, Captain. Tell your precious Senate the drunkards are dealt with, since they apparently care so much."

"Quiet, Barricade." Prowl looked down to the arrested bot, though he'd clearly tower over the Captain if allowed to stand. "You, you're coming with us."

"What am I being charged with?"

Barricade motioned over to the severed limbs. "Do we seriously have to answer that?"

"Barricade, remember when I told you to shut your vocal components? Consider that a standing order. Now, tell us your name."

The bot's fear actually seemed to fade. It was inexplicably replaced with defiance. "I don't have a name. Your society doesn't allow me to have a name."

"What do you mean?"

"I only have an alphanumeric designation. D-16."

"What kind of name is… oh. You must be a lower caste drone. We don't see too many of your kind around here."

D-16 glared at the Captain. "Tell me something, officer. What's your name?"

"Prowl. My name is Prowl."

"Do you realize how privileged you are to even have a name?"

Prowl glared back. "Yeah. This is the one the Senate was looking for."

(Hello, everybody! Thanks for reading! To clarify on what this story is, this fic focuses on the beginnings of the Decepticons and the start of Megatron's rebellion against the Cybertronian government. I intend this to be a big love letter to the entire Transformers mythos, and it incorporates aspects from across the thirty five year history of the brand. It mainly takes inspirations from IDW's G1 continuity and the Aligned continuity, but also borrows from a number of other Transformers stories. Basically everything in this story is a reference.)