Wheeljack was alone, looking through the Ark computer room. He would remove panels to check the severity of the damage to the systems. The crash had left several systems beyond repair and they needed to be replaced. He just hoped that they will be able to find the materials needed to do so. He got down on the floor to open the access hatch under Teletran only to have an arm flop out. He paused. All Autobots have been accounted for.

Getting down lower so that he could get a better view he felt his spark pulse when he saw the rest of the body that the arm was attached to. "A female?" he asked no one. He pulled her free and laid her on the ground then slid open her front plate. He could see the glow of her spark, "You're still alive."

Like the rest, she was in stasis mode. They had crash landed on a strange organic planet and went off line for an unknown number of cycles, when Decepticons had attacked. A seismic event brought enough systems back online to revive some from each team.

The Decepticons took as many of their kind as they could and sadly this included their leader Megatron. The rest were kept in stasis and locked away. The Autobots who survived were revived with the loss of only a few. Now they wait and repair what they can while they try to figure out where they were and what they were going to do next.

The female was small and a beautiful pink pearl color that reflected a gentle rainbow of colors as the light struck her. At closer inspection, Wheeljack could not find an insignia. No insignia, no alliance. She was a civilian. There were few civilians left. Most had joined the war on one side or the other, or fled Cyberton in hopes of finding peace. None were female.

His spark surged in his chest cavity as the realization struck him. If she was not a soldier then she was not a Transformer because only the females who chose to fight could transform. He had to be sure. First he looked around to make sure he was alone then slid open more plates working his way down her chest and abdomen. With each new section he confirmed what he believed.

She was an entertainer. Her kind used to work in the pleasure district on Cyberton. They ran spas that the elite, workers, and soldiers would go to after a hard day. Hot oil baths would soothe aching gears while the females used small instruments to clean tiny crevices of debris. Sometimes, if a bot was lucky, she would use her circuits to connect to the male's and send pleasure through him and on occasion their sparks would meet eliciting the ultimate pleasure. His hands shook as he continued to look. He had never seen one before, only hearing stories from the older males that lived back before the war. He had known female soldiers but they weren't the same.

When the war started some of the females took up arms and had their circuits changed so that they could transform. As new bots were born they would all choose one side or another. The entertainer females became more and more rare until one day they disappeared altogether.

The females that were soldiers could still be connected to and pleasure could be shared between male and female, but, from what Wheeljack was told, it was nothing like what one could experience with a 'true female'. The soldier females hated that term, 'true female', and looked down on the ones that had remained entertainers.

Some of her circuits looked damaged and he wasn't sure if it was from the crash or if somebot had done it to her. He closed her back up and lifted her up. If she was going to be revived then she would need to see Ratchet.

...

Ratchet was cleaning up the medical ward. There was a giant Rock protruding through the middle of the room that he really wanted removed. Only, it wasn't top priority and all the other Autobots were busy with other tasks.

"The medical ward will be top priority as soon as one of them gets hurt," the doctor bot mumbled to himself.

The door opened and Wheeljack walked in carrying a female. He placed her on the exam table, "I found her hiding in Teletran."

"How did she get there?" Ratchet asked looking down at his new patient.

"Wake her up and we can ask her," Wheeljack suggested.

Ratchet opened her chest plate to examine her and his spark pulsed, "No transforming cog."

Wheeljack shook his head, "She's not a Transformer."

Ratchet's intake valve closed up briefly before it reopened allowing him to suck in air again. "I have not seen a true female in a long time."

"I've never seen one this close before," Wheeljack admitted. "I never had currency enough to afford to go to the spa. My protoform was made in the Tagon Heights."

Ratchet had forgotten that his best friend came from the working class. If it wasn't for the war the two of them would have never been friends. Ratchet was formed as part of the Elite society in Uraya and trained to be a doctor before he had selected his form. "I had been to the spa," Ratchet lifted her hand and examined her fingers. The tools inside the slender digits were used for getting into places none of his medical devices could reach and they were nimble. "I wonder what Prime will have to say about her."

"Do you think he'll let her… work?" Wheeljack ventured.

"Pleasure aside," Ratchet placed her hand back on the table. "Her healing skills could be beneficial."

"Of course," Wheeljack waved his hand. "That's what I meant."

Ratchet looked up at his close friend, "Sure it is."

"Don't act like you wouldn't like to touch sparks with her," Wheeljack snapped.

"I would like to be able to touch sparks," Ratchet admitted. The best he and Wheeljack had managed was finding four connections that felt good. All of their other tests resulted in massive amounts of pain. Touching sparks was quickly becoming a thing of legend. "I also wouldn't mind a hot oil bath to soothe my aching gears." Ratchet turned on a nearby machine, "Now, let's wake her up and find out how she ended up in Teletran."

Her optics' blue light flickered to life as she came back online. Moaning, she brought her hand up to her head, "Where am I?"

"You're on the Ark," Ratchet answered. "My name is Ratchet. I'm a doctor." He pointed to Wheeljack, "This is our technician Wheeljack. He found you in our main computer Teletran."

She looked over at Ratchet and saw the Autobot emblem on his chest, "Oh. I am free of the Decepticons."

"Were you their prisoner?" Wheeljack asked.

She nodded, "I ventured out of hiding and was found by Soundwave. He took me to Megatron and I was their captive. When they attacked your ship, I managed to jump onboard and hide." She looked around, "Did you defeat them?"

"Sadly, no," Ratchet answered. "They escaped." He looked down at her, "Were they rough with you? I noticed damage to some of your circuits." When she looked at him he suddenly felt uneasy, "I only looked to assess any damage you might have sustained in the crash. I would never take advantage. If there was another female here to tend to you I would not have even looked."

She smiled, "You are a doctor after all." She nodded, "The Decepticons treated me well, more or less. Megatron was the only one who was rough. That bot is pure evil. I have no idea how a spark could have ended up so corrupted, I have a hard time believing that it's a spark of Primus."

"To stop him is why we fight," Wheeljack nodded. Then he tilted his head, "What's your name?"

"Opal," she answered. "What is that sticking through your infirmary?" she asked pointing to the rock.

"A nuisance," Ratchet sighed. "It stuck through the ship when we crashed."

"Where are we?" Opal asked.

"We haven't assessed that yet, really," Wheeljack answered. "What we do know, is that this planet is organic and without energon."

"Wheeljack," Optimus Prime's voice echoed from the corridor. "Why haven't you fixed Teletran yet?"

"Primus," Wheeljack cursed then turned to leave. "I got sidetracked," he hollered as he left the medical ward. "You should go see Rathcet's new patient."

Prime walked into the room, but was looking over his shoulder at the retreating Wheeljack. "What is he going on about?" Prime asked as he turned to look at Ratchet. "I should be able to have a detail come in and remove that thing soon." He stopped when he saw Opal. "How did she get here?" he pointed at her.

"The Decepticons had her and she managed to hide in Teletran before we crashed," Ratchet explained. "She is what sidetracked Wheeljack."

Prime's optics stayed transfixed on Opal, "You vanished."

"We went into hiding," she corrected. "We could not stand to see the effects of your war on our world and bots."

"She could be very beneficial to us," Ratchet offered.

"Oh?" Prime crossed his arms.

"She has tools at her disposal that I do not," Ratchet clarified. "That and she knows the inner workings of bots better than I ever could."

Prime nodded, "Fine. She can be utilized as your assistant in all things medical, but we will not treat her as a recreational plaything."

"Shouldn't that be left up to me?" Opal argued. "I have no problems with…."

"No," Prime cut her off. "I can only foresee problems and jealousy if I permit any more than that. There is only one of you and sixteen of us. They can take their pleasures with each other like they have been."

Ratchet must have looked visibly shocked because Optimus looked right at him, "You think I didn't know?"

Ratchet felt the energon quicken through his body as his spark fluttered, "Of course you did. You're Prime."

Prime's stance softened, "I would not deny you your pleasures, but one female for sixteen males is a bit much."

Opal smiled and tilted her head, "I had a greater ratio than that before when I worked at the spa in Iacon. At least let me try and open a spa for them, if I can."

Prime nodded, "Hot oil baths would be welcome, if you can find a way to maintain them. I don't know yet what kind of resources we will find on this planet."

"If the planet is organic, then there will be oil of some kind here," Opal informed him. "It's all a matter of refining it and if it can hold up in heat."

"We have more pressing matters to attend to," Optimus said. "As soon as it is possible, we will help you set up a spa. But you will not connect to anybot. Do you understand?"

She bowed her head, "If that is your wish. You are Prime."

Optimus started out the door, but turned, "I know your kind kept to your own rules and were apart from the commands of Prime, but I would greatly appreciate it if you would respect me as the leader. At least until I can find a way to get you safely back to Cybertron and back into hiding. Maybe you can help them find better ways to connect to each other. Finding good connection is difficult enough with Autobot females, I'm sure it's even more so between two males."

"If it would please you," She again bowed her head, "I will follow your commands, Prime."

Prime nodded. "We will talk more about it later but right now I have other matters to attend to."

"I will see you later then," she smiled.

When Prime left, Ratchet sighed, "Primus."

Opal looked up at him, "What?"

He looked down at her and his optics drifted down to her chest plate, "Nothing." He looked away, "Let me get you familiar with the infirmary."

Her two dainty hands intertwined with his large red one, "Maybe one day he will change his mind."

He felt his spark flare at her touch, "One can only hope."

"Just give me time," she teased. "I have yet to meet a Prime that I could not charm."

He looked down at her, "Have you met many?"

"You would be surprised," she let go of his hand. "Now, why don't you show me around?"

….

Tracks was amazed when he found a pool of liquid H2O just sitting in a hole in the rock. On Cybertron it had to be kept at a steady temperature to maintain its liquid form. Then again, given how vastly different the pressure was on this planet it appeared that water kept its liquid form at a greater range of temperature than it does on Cybertron. He collected a sample of it to take back to Wheeljack.

"Why did you drag me all the way out here?" Sunstreaker complained. "This place has a lot of loose debris and it's getting in my gears. Not to mention the sun is wreaking havoc on my finish. It's too hot."

"Oh, knock it off," Tracks grumbled. "Your voice is hurting my receptors." He took in some air and noticed that it was full of tiny particles that he knew would cause him problems later. Tucking the sample into a compartment at his side, Tracks walked over to Sunstreaker. He placed a hand on Sunstreaker's chest plate, "Open up for me."

"Out here?" Sunstreaker shook his head. "It's going to take me cycles to get this stuff out of my gears as it is."

Tracks sighed and stepped back, "I knew I should have asked your brother."

"Sideswipe wouldn't have liked it out here anymore than I do," Sunstreaker crossed his arms over his chest. "You asked me because we get better connections." Sunstreaker was right. Tracks had found more pleasurable connections with him than he had with any other, though four wasn't something to brag about.

For some reason Tracks ended up being the go to bot for most of the others when it came to carnal desires. He didn't mind it so much it was just hard keeping track of all the right ways to connect to each of them. His biggest desire was to find a way to touch sparks, especially with Jazz.

"Do you want to connect or not?" Tracks huffed, dropping his arms to his side.

"With you?" Sunstreaker walked over and lifted Tracks' chin so they were looking into each other's optics. "Always."

Sunstreaker found a place in the shade and Tracks followed him to it. Sunstreaker sat down and pulled Tracks down to that he was straddling Sunstreaker's lap. "Alright," Sunstreaker smiled, "since you insist."

"I don't want you to damage your circuits on my account," Tracks teased.

"Shut up and open up," Sunstreaker retorted.

The two bots opened their chest plates and Sunstreaker went to work connection them. "Not that one!" Tracks cringed, "The one below it."

"Sorry," Sunstreaker attached himself to the sensitive circuit causing a pulse of pleasure to surge through to Track's spark. Sunstreaker grunted, "Yeah. That's a good one."

Before Sunstreaker was able to attach the second one, Prowl's voice interrupted them through their communications device, "Everyone needs to get back to the Ark. Teletran's back on line."

"Primus," Tracks cursed. "It was just starting warm up."

Regrettably Sunstreaker disconnected them and closed his chest plate, "Maybe later." They got up and transformed to head back to the Ark.

Back at base Wheeljack stood in front of a now working Teletran. Images flooded the screen of vast collections of liquid H2O, organic life that looked to be inanimate, inorganic cities and small organic creatures. "According to my calculations we were off line for more than one hundred thousand meta-cycles," Wheeljack began.

He then waited for the overlapping mumbles form the other Autobots to die down before he continued. "We have not established communications with Cybertron, yet, but I'm working on it. We are in a place, that the inhabitants of this planet call a desert," Wheeljack explained. "Teletran has located the Decepticons' base somewhere in the middle of this vast expanse of liquid H2O, which surprisingly covers about two thirds of this planet. The dominant life forms on this planet call themselves 'human' and the region we are in they speak a language call 'English', though some might not. There are several languages on this planet and the people are still segregated in several different ways. There are several wars going on and they kill each other in what seems like random acts of violence every day. There is however a variety of oils here and some can be converted into energon, there are also several different ways that they have developed for creating energy that we can utilize and use to make energon."

He turned to Teletran and pulled up more images, "We will need to disguise ourselves so we don't draw attention. We can easily change ourselves to adopt the forms of their modes of transportation. I have a selection for each of you that will work with your body types and skillsets. I will also place holographic projectors inside your chassis. It needs to appear that there is a human inside of you as you drive around."

He turned off Teletran and walked over to a door, "Finally, there was a discovery made when I was cleaning and repairing Teletran. I found a former Decepticon prisoner hiding in an access panel below the main computer. HER name is Opal and she will assist Ratchet in the infirmary."

Prime stayed to the side while Wheeljack opened the door to reveal the true female that was hiding behind it. Tracks knew what she was the moment he saw her. It was in the way she carried herself and the lines of her chassis. The others recognized her for what she was as well and started to bombard Wheeljack with questions. But it was Prime who stepped forward and held up his hands for silence and the gathered Autobots obeyed.

"She has been granted permission to open a spa, but she is forbidden to connect with any of you." There was a display of displeasure at the announcement and Prime waited for it to fade before he continued. "She was abused by the Decepticons and I will not have us doing the same. She is free to work, but she will not be taken advantage of. And as soon as we can, we will take her back to Cybertron so that she can rejoin her kind in hiding."

Opal stepped forward, "I look forward to getting to know each of you. And I will help you in any way that I can."

Sunstreaker leaned in close and whispered to Tracks, "Thanks to Primes orders, your position as team plaything is secure," earning himself an elbow to the midsection. Sunstreaker chuckled, "Maybe Prime will let her teach you how to find better connections and maybe you can learn how to touch sparks. Won't that be nice?"

"Yeah that would be," Tracks admitted. He looked back to where Opal was standing and wondered just how much she would be willing to teach him.