Whispy: My DVD of the movie has gone missing, much to my displeasure, so the basis of this experiment is guesswork. To the best of my recollection, Prowl, whom I have a growing fondness for, was killed in the movie, in the shuttle that was attacked, along with Ironhide and Ratchet. Well, and I will stress that these guys may seem OOC sometimes because I don't know them all that well, this is what may have happened instead. Of course, if Prowl was actually killed in Autobot City, this doesn't work. But, for argument's sake, let's just pretend that he was on the shuttle. OKAY?

Comments and suggestions most welcome, as is telling me that Prowl would do this, not this, or say this this way, or anything along the lines of that. Also applies to the other bots and cons. I'm saving my favourites, oh yes.

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The Decepticons busted a hole in the side of the shuttle and killed everyone on board. That was what happened. That was what must have happened. That was what everyone accepted to have happened.

But, it was not exactly what happened.

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Slowly, the mech's optics came online. Where in the name of Cybertron was he? He tried to sit up, but found the task impossible; not only was his body aching all over, but he was also strapped to… whatever it was he was lying on with very strong bonds indeed. After giving up on that notion, he instead, moved his head so he was looking at something other than the ceiling.

To his further confusion, he didn't recognise the place any more than the ceiling. The room was large, and made of some sort of rust-red metal, although it didn't seem to be actually rusted. There was a set of computer consoles by the far wall to his right, and on the left, a set up that resembled Ratchet's medbay.

Frowning, the mech tried to remember what had happened to get him here. He was on the shuttle to earth… he remembered that. They had only just let Cybertron when the Decepticons attacked, yup, that he remembered too. He moved to stop Megatron, and got blasted with a shot that couldn't have killed him… then… nothing. Maybe the others had kicked the afts of the Decepticons, and gotten him medical attention? Nah. He wouldn't have been strapped down if they had. The Decepticons kept him alive to experiment on him? Don't think so. He's dead, and this is some sort of holding pen before Primus decides if he goes to the Pit or not? Quite unlikely.

So, what was it? Where was he?

The Autobot could not help but ponder the question again and again.

Just then, a door that he couldn't see from where he was opened with a hiss and footsteps approached. A mech, boxy in design, with a red and brown colour scheme, not unlike the walls, walked up to him and looked down at him.

"Ah, the creation is awake!" The mech said.

"Who are you?" The Autobot asked weakly, not very surprised that his voice only slightly sounded like his.

The other mech smiled. "Round here, mechs call me Bishop."

"Bishop?" The Autobot repeated.

"Yup. Quite surprised to see you actually online, you know. We had to give you quite a do over."

"Where am I?"

Bishop smiled. "Don't stress your circuits with that just for the moment, right lad? Let's get you off this berth and back on your feet."

The Autobot felt Bishop undo the shackles that were binding him to the berth, and had a great sense of relief when he was finally able to sit up. The emotion however, did not last very long.

"What in the name of The Pit happened to me?!"

His exclamations were directed at his frame. Once done in brilliant white and black, he was now sporting white and black patches, mixed with a patchwork of red and brown. Personally, he thought he looked like several mechs welded together.

Bishop looked at the stunned Autobot with an almost sad look on his faceplate. "You were lucky; we eventually managed to scavenge enough parts to put your pieces back together. We had to rework a few parts, but they fit in the long run. But, you ain't seen the worst of it yet."

The Autobot stared at the other mech with wide optics. "What… is 'the worst of it'?" He asked, almost fearing the answer.

The red and brown mech strode over to the medical bench and picked up a large mirror. He brought the piece of reflective glass over and held it up for the Autobot to see. The formerly white and black one swallowed.

Across his face were several large gashes, partly stuck together with patches of a brown tinted metallic 'skin', not dissimilar to the material his face was made of in the first place. Half of his crest was gone from his helmet, and the opposite side of said helm was another patch of brown-red material, which had been cut to resemble it's original shape, but didn't match quite right, giving him an asymmetrical look to him. He still had his door wings perched on his back, looking as patchy as the rest of him. One of his optics was white, the other, a familiar looking blue.

The thing that hurt him the most, however, was that one of the patches on his chest cut the red Autobot insignia on his chest clean in half.

"You alright lad? You seem a bit shaken." Bishop pointed out.

The Autobot shook his head and looked at himself in the mirror again. "Certainly… most certainly am." He confirmed.

Bishop put the mirror down. "Well, that's the reason that you've earned the name 'Patchwork' around this place. Mechs have been popping in at all times of the solarcycle just to see you, wether I was fixing a part to your chassis or you were just lying there in stasis. Seeing you up and active is going to send shivers through them, no doubt."

The Autobot frowned. "How long have I been here?" He asked.

Bishop looked thoughtful. "Oh, a bit over a stellar-cycle now." He said casually. "It took us ages to actually find and rework your parts; you've been on life support for the longest time."

The Autobot's optics widened. "Over a stellar-cycle?! Primus!" The Autobot could hardly believe what he was hearing. "Optimus would have been worried sick over me missing for over a stellar-cycle!"

Bishop blinked. "Who?" He asked.

"Optimus Prime! Autobot Commander! Don't you know who he is?"

Bishop shook his head. "Nope. Never heard of an Autobot before either. What's an Autobot?"

The patchwork mech's optics widened. "What's a… oh come on, I'm sure you know what they are. You're a Transformer, right?"

Bishop nodded. "I'll admit to that, yup. Everyone here is. What else would we be?"

"And, the Transformer race has been locked in two sided conflict for millennia! You know that too, right?"

Now here Bishop looked thoughtful. "Hn…" He mused. "No, I don't think so. We've never had any conflict here; most mechs are pretty well behaved. But then, we have a dictator to take care of things like that at any rate."

The Autobot blinked. "Dictator?"

"Yeah, our 'King'. See, round here, we're ordered something like Chess. The Command element is the King and Queen, even though the grand majority of the time, the 'Queen' isn't a female. They're just first and second in command is all. Next on the tier are the Bishops, that's me, and then the Knights, who form our main defence system, the Rooks, sometimes, known as Palace Guards, then, Common Folk, or Pawns."

The formerly white and black one blinked again. "Chess, huh?" He said absentmindedly, mostly to himself. He used to play great rounds of Chess with Optimus, the pair of them strategising till the Earth Dawn…until this mess started.

"So lad, tell me: What function have you?" Bishop asked.

The Autobot looked up. "I am… a Tactician."

Bishop beamed. "So Chess is your sort of thing, huh?"

The Autobot nodded.

"Right. Seeing as you're our guest, a guest that the staff have had the pleasure of watching me rebuild truly, but a guest none-the-less, I'll take you to see the King. By what name are you known?"

The Tactician stood and drew himself up to his full height, standing a good head taller than the Bishop.

"Prowl."

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For Future Reference:

Stellar-Cycle 7.5 Earth Months