Hey everyone!

So, this idea has been nagging me for ages, and after somewhat planning it with my buddy Rian in a sort of mini story through PMs (thanks a bunch Rian! You're the best!)and I decided to try publishing it! So I stayed up a few hours last night typing all of this up XD

This story takes place somewhere around season 2 of TFA! I haven't seen the show in awhile, so if a few things aren't quite right, just think of this as being a bit AU XD Also, in this story, the Decepticons aren't completely evil! Thy just aren't completely good either XD

I would appreciate any feedback you awesome readers would like to give me! I want to know what you all think of this chapter, if you like the idea, ideas for the future of the story and so on!

Also, in future chaps, I will likely bring in Decepticons from other shows, like Breakdown from TFP! So don't be surprised if you see 'cons who aren't originally in TFA in the future chaps!

Furthermore, in this story, Cybertronian aging is a bit different! Like in America, where teens are considered to technically be adults at eighteen years, Cybertronians are considered to be 'adults' at eighteen vorns (the Cybertronian equivalent of a year). However, Cybertronians can live for hundreds of vorns, thus, despite technically being adults, Cybertronians under the age of (at the very least) thirty vorns are seen to be little more than younglings. This is an important detail for the story!

Now, I hope you all enjoy, and pleaseplease PLEASE leave feedback so I know if I should continue with this story!

Enjoy!

The control room of the ship was, for the most part, silent aside from the scuffle of pedes and whir of the ship's inner mechanisms. Megatron stood, tall and imposing as he examined the image on the holoscreen before him, servos folded behind his back.

On the screen was a security feed of one of the brig cells, the only one occupied at the moment in fact.

Optimus Prime…

Megatron had to admit, despite being rather young for a Prime (Megatron wasn't sure of the Prime's exact age, but judging by his voice and appearance he was younger than quite a few other Primes), Optimus Prime was a worthy opponent. He was intelligent, and what he lacked in physical strength (it was hard for him to pack too much of a punch with his lithe frame), he made up for with creative strategy, speed and flexibility.

He was unique as well, for an Autobot. He didn't hold the biased views the council had implanted among the ranks of the 'bots, for he didn't value a mech or femme based on their birthplace or what caste they had been part of. The Prime also didn't allow his views to be swayed –he kept to his morals, and refused to be cowed by anyone, even when they tried to pull the rank card on him. He of course had the disgustingly idealistic idea of justice most 'bots had, but he wasn't blind to the faults of the council or his fellow Autobot. If he felt what someone was doing was wrong, he would call them out, regardless of the consequences.

He was quite a rare kind of mech to find among the Autobots, and frustratingly hard to overwhelm.

But finally, finally the Prime had been caught. The most recent battle with the Prime's rag-tag team, Megatron had separated the Prime from his team and managed to overpower him and knock him unconscious.

And now he had the Prime locked away in a cell. It was a rare, exquisite opportunity to gain information about the Autobots that his own spies had been unable to obtain.

At the moment, Shockwave was running scans over the Prime. Despite how many battles Megatron himself and his Decepticons had fought against the Prime, Optimus was quite the enigma. No files to be found in the Autobot data banks they'd hacked, no medical records in the main hospitals of Cybertron, just...Nothing. And so Megatron was taking the opportunity to have Shockwave gather some much needed data.

Despite having his arms chained outspread and hanging a couple feet from the ground, the Prime hadn't lost any of his fighting spirit. A slight smirk twitched at Megatron's lip plates as the Prime kicked out at Shockwave for what was not the first time. The somewhat irritated scientist stepped out of range, looking away from the scanner he was presently using.

"Desist that at once." Shockwave demanded, tone warning.

Optimus only scowled in return, kicking again when the scientist shifted closer again.

"Frag off." The Prime spat, glaring at Shockwave with blazing, cobalt optics.

Megatron had to admit that Shockwave was handling the situation with more patience than he ever could have. The scientist delivered a good thwack to the back of the Prime's helm.

"Enough. I am only scanning you, you are acting deplorably."

Another kick was the Prime's reply, and Shockwave delivered a solid hit to Optimus' helm that had the Prime seeing stars. This stunned the Prime momentarily, and Shockwave took advantage of this opportunity to finish running his scans. Seemingly satisfied with the information he'd gathered, Shockwave left the cell, looking over his gathered results.

Megatron continued to watch the surveillance feed. The Prime slumped slightly as he found himself alone again. He didn't yell after Shockwave with demands that he be freed, like most Autobot prisoners would. No, he was simply staring off in the direction Shockwave had left, and Megatron could all but see the wheels turning in the Prime's helm. For a brief moment Megatron found himself relieved that he'd decided to have the Prime placed in the most secure cell of the brig, and restrained in a position that was near escapable to boot.

Megatron didn't turn when he heard the doors to the control room slide open with a hiss, only tilting his helm slightly towards the sound of approaching steps.

"Shockwave." He greeted briskly. "Report."

The scientist didn't even hesitate.

"Physical scans showed signs of strain on his cables and struts from several vorns ago. Such damage would stem from heavy lifting. That, combined with the trace signs of malnutrition from the same time, lead me to believe he is from the lower docks of Tyger Pax."

Tyger Pax? That was close to Kaon, and the lower docks nearly as bad as Kaon as well. It was strange that the council allowed someone from such a place rise to the rank of Prime, Megatron mused. The council liked their precious Primes to be from cities like Iacon or Praxis, from families of a higher caste…

"There are signs of several surgical procedures as well. At his waist, several extra support struts were added, likely in an attempt to avoid having the Prime's middle crushed in battle." No surprise, really. The Prime was rather thin around the waist for a mech. "However, these struts were improperly implanted, and no one has bothered to resolve the issue. The struts are more of a hindrance than an asset, I find it curious he can fight so adeptly when these faulty struts likely cause him pain often. Further surgery has slightly changes his physical appearance, and I have concluded that at one point in time, Optimus Prime had several Kaonian features."

Even more intriguing, Megatron thought with the quirk of a metal brow. Those with even a hint of Kaonian heritage were so often looked down upon, how had the Prime even managed to enroll in the Academy?

There was an odd pause of silence, an uncommon moment of hesitance that was rarely seen from Shockwave, and while it only lasted a nano-sec, Megatron picked up on it. He said nothing, though, as Shockwave spoke up once more.

"I admit I was…surprised, when I came to the conclusion of Optimus Prime's age. I previously thought him to be thirty-two vorns, perhaps a bit older, but he is not. He's twenty."

Megatron froze, optics widening and jaw nearly dropping.

Twenty vorns? Optimus Prime was…twenty vorns?

Twenty vorns! He was hardly out of his younglinghood!

For Cybertronians, twenty vorns was hardly more than the blink of an optic! Cybertronians could live for hundreds of vorns, not even being considered to be young adults until eighteen vorns (and even then, to most they were still viewed as little more than children).

The one who had been fighting against Megatron and his Decepticons with more honor and bravery than any other Autobot he'd met was hardly more than a mechling. Just how had one so young managed to gain the title of Prime? How had the little Prime managed to make it so far into the ranks of the Autobots in so little time? How could he be so skilled on the battlefield at such an age? Megatron had met young 'bots before, the Autobot Bumblebee was a good example, but those 'bots tended to be little more than cadets. So how had a mech of only twenty vorns manage to rise to the standing of Prime?

"Twenty vorns?" Megatron breathed, voice hardly more than a haggard whisper.

"Twenty and a third vorns, if you wish for me to be precise."

Megatron's processor was whirling now, scrambling as preconceptions he'd made about the young Prime were shattered and rearranged. It now made more sense, why the Prime was considerably smaller than most grown mechs, his oddly stubborn mannerisms, actions he'd done that seemed so youthful…

"Mi'lord?"

Megatron was pulled from his musings at Shockwave's voice, and he nodded, regaining his composure.

"Continue."

Shockwave looked back to the small holoscreen that was projected from his arm.

"I managed to acquire his personal Autobot I.D code to locate and access his personal files, all of which were locked deep within the recesses of the Autobot database archives. None of the files held any detailed information about his sparklinghood, and aside from some rather mundane medical records, there was not much information. He was brought into the Academy by the council at the age of fourteen vorns, likely as a charity case to bolster the public's opinion of them. He excelled beyond all expectations of the Academy instructors, showing a natural talent for strategy and combat despite his rather small size and age, and he was quickly inducted into the Prime Program at sixteen vorns, earning the title of Prime at eighteen and a half vorns. After an incident on a planet that was inhabited by dangerous organic life, Optimus Prime was stripped of all duties and assigned to lead a repair and salvage group, though was strangely not stripped of the title of Prime. I also found something rather intriguing: his designation was changed by the council when he was given the title Prime."

Megatron frowned, confused as he looked back at Shockwave.

"Why in the name of Cybertron would they bother to do that?"

Shockwave didn't lift his gaze from the holoscreen.

"His birth designation had distinctly Kaonian origins. Likely the council wished to hide the fact one of the youngest and brightest Prime's in many vorns was, in fact, partially Kaonian."

Megatron's gaze turned to the image of Optimus in the brig, expression pensive.

"…His designation. What is it really?"

If Shockwave was surprised by the question, he didn't show it.

"His birth designation is Orion."

"Orion…" Megatron murmured lowly, seeming to test the name on his glossa. As he looked at the little Prime's image, Megatron found the designation seemed to fit him very well. Better then the designation 'Optimus', even.

And as he stared at the security feed, Megatron found an odd idea blossoming in his processor. The idea was crazy, perhaps even insane…yet also so very appealing.

For ages, Megatron had gone without an heir. Without someone to carry on his legacy, someone to guide the Decepticons onward in the fight to rid Cybertron completely of the caste system and the council. And it wasn't that Megatron didn't want an heir, but rather he had been unable to find a femme to bear one for him, or find one who was worthy of becoming his heir. He'd scoured almost every inch of Cybertron, yet never found any mech or femme who was worthy of being named his successor. His heir would have to be courageous, strong-willed, a natural leader, someone who believed the caste system was wrong, and such a Cybertronian was hard to come by.

But Optimus Prime…

Optimus- no, Orion, he was almost perfect. He was young, with a still impressionable mind. His bravery was unparalleled, and he treated every mech and femme the same: as equals. He was an amazing leader to his team, a talented warrior, and he was smart enough that, with a little guidance, the wool that the council had pulled over the young Prime's optics could be removed.

Megatron turned to Blitzwing, the 'con in question jumping, Icy's stony expression cracking slightly as he was startled by the sudden attention.

"Blitzwing, remove the Prime from the brig. Take him to one of the empty sets of quarters. One near mine."

Blitzwing blinked, taking a belated moment to process the odd order, but then nodded. Icy's face regained its composure.

"As you wish, Lord Megatron."

Megatron turned back to the holoscreen before him as Blitzwing left. The little Prime was shifting and squirming, testing the chains that held him to see if he could find any way to slip free (without any success). He didn't appear afraid, like most in his situation would. No, he was displaying anger and irritation, with an edge of determination that Megatron so often saw in the Prime's face.

Previously, this had all been about interrogating the Prime. Now it was much, much more.