Author's note: Thank you all for the reviews and to everyone who read it and/or added it to their story alert doohickey. Anyway, it occurred to me it might be helpful to post a breakdown of the Cybertronian time units, in case they get a little confusing. Happily I received my AllSpark Almanac the other day (pure awesome incarnate) to help. So in case you ain't got a copy:

Nanoklik – approximately 1 second

Cycle – approximately 1 minute

Mega cycle – approximately 1 hour (the Almanac claims it's 2.6 hours but in the show it's appears to be closer to 1 hour)

Solar cycle – approximately 1 day

Deca-cycle - approximately 10 days (this one I could never figure out).

Lunar cycle – approximately 1 month (The Almanac claims the term to be 'orbital cycle' but that's been used in the show to refer to a day, so I go with this, my own invention).

Stellar cycle – approximately 1 year

Anyway, on with the show. If you enjoyed it or have an opinion on the fic, please go ahead and leave a review and let me know what you think.


"I think Prowl would have wanted it this way", Bulkhead said, "I remember him saying something once about how the future was important to him. Seems kinda appropriate for him to be borne out like this".

Inside the main cockpit for the Autobot starship Omega Supreme, Bulkhead gently laid the still body of Prowl into an empty protoform case. It was one of the few surviving protoforms they had retrieved from the Decepticon warship the Nemesis; most had been used by Starscream in his cloning experiments, others had been used to animate Megatron's clones of Omega Supreme. In fact only three functional protoforms had been saved.

Jazz smiled in approval at Prowl's pall, "He sure would have digged it, Big Green", he patted Bulkhead on the 'bot's gut, "Protoforms are a big deal to cyber ninjas".

"Why?" Sari asked.

"Would love to be able to tell ya, little lady", Jazz answered, "But I swore an oath to Master Yoketron over a million stellar cycles ago. Prowl would have sworn it too".

"Oh", Sari was disappointed, "I wish I knew more about protoforms. I mean, I was one".

Jazz looked uncertain. He had only recently discovered Sari's unique origin as a blend of Cybertronian protoform and human DNA, with the power of the AllSpark infused within her as an upgrade to boot. It was rather a lot for him to take in.

"Well, we're not the 'bots to tell you about protoforms", Bumblebee piped up, "Not even the 'doc-bot really knows how they work. Only the top science 'bots on Cybertron would know. Or…so they say".

"Then when we get to Cybertron, I'm gonna march right up to them and make 'em tell me everything they know!" Sari stood up as she spoke, gesturing enthusiastically.

Bumblebee and Bulkhead exchanged looks, "That's something else we're gonna need to work on", Bumblebee grinned sheepishly, "You might wanna keep a low profile when we get to Cybertron."

"Keep a low profile?" raised one eyebrow.

"Well…organics are kinda…sorta…" Bulkhead stuttered, "Kinda…prohibited on Cybertron….sorta".

"What?!" Sari exclaimed, "You mean we're not allowed? That's not fair! You guys are allowed on my planet!"

"Hey, hey, we don't make the rules", Bumblebee waved one hand in a placating manner, "I'm sure they'll overlook it considering the…circumstances. Eheh".

"Hmph!" Sari put her hands on her hips, "Well, we can just let them know I'm a techno-organic!"

"I don't think that's gonna help much", Bulkhead scratched his head.

Sari opened her mouth to protest, but Bumblebee interrupted, "It'll be fine, Sari. Just stay close to me. And stay in robot mode. And erm…don't talk to anyone?"

Sari fumed, looking ready to explode. Jazz burst into laughter at the sight, and Bulkhead and Bumblebee soon followed. To her surprise Sari found herself laughing too. It was good to laugh. None of them knew how to cope with the loss of Prowl, but it felt as if he would have rather them laugh than cry.


"How long has it been, Ratchet?" Arcee asked quietly, her voice little more than a whisper.

Ratchet and Arcee stood alone at the passenger boarding doors for Omega Supreme. All around them the air hummed with transwarp energy as Omega warped to Cybertron, a trip that took less than thirty cycles but was nonetheless exhausting for Omega.

Ratchet fidgeted awkwardly. As a medi-bot he had delivered terrible news to patients who were going to have suffer amputations, undergo spark support or even go offline. But this was different. It was so much worse because Ratchet felt responsible.

"Tell me, Ratchet", the femmebot placed one servo on Ratchet's quivering arm.

He inhaled deeply, "One million, seven hundred and thirty six thousand, eight hundred and twenty seven stellar cycles and forty two solar cycles".

Arcee stared at him for a few nanokliks, expressionless. Then her optics widened with her horror and her jaw hung open. She took a few stunned steps back until she clanged into the wall.

"One million stellar cycles…" she whispered, "I was in stasis for…one million…"

"Not out of choice", Ratchet hastened to add, trying to avoid the pained look in her optics, "After your memory was wiped I took you back to Cybertron Intel. We explained the situation to you and you agreed to be put into stasis while we retrieved the codes from you. But turns out you'd planted a failsafe mechanism on me that…"

"Transferred the codes to you. I remember doing that. But…one million stellar cycles? Why didn't anyone revive me?"

"They couldn't. Your core consciousness was damaged by the EMP blast and burned itself out when they tried to revive you. They tried to fix it but…"

Ratchet trailed off into nothing. What could he say? That as soon as Omega Supreme's activation codes had been transferred from her to him, she had been forgotten about, dumped into a medical center and abandoned what with all the excitement of the Great War, with only a half-aft attempt to bring her back?

"It's my fault, Arcee", he said solemnly, "I could have grabbed Ultra Magnus by the neck and forced him to keep trying to revive you, or I could have broken in and taken you myself and tried on my own. But I didn't".

"It's not your fault", Arcee lowered her head, "This…this is just so much to process…I…"

Tentatively, Ratchet put a servo on one of her slim shoulders. Arcee didn't resist or flinch.

"I can't imagine how difficult it is for you", he said as gently as he could, "But I can promise you I will help you to get through this in any way I can. I won't lose you again".


Optimus Prime walked into the cargo room of the Autobot starship Omega Supreme. As he entered his wings – recent upgrades he had had installed – clanged against the narrow entrance. Optimus sighed and stepped back and was forced to enter sideways.

"I wish I'd get used to these things", he muttered.

He looked around. Two Decepticons sat on the floor, held safely in stasis cuffs. One was a giant 'bot bigger than Bulkhead, a dark behemoth with thick limbs and stubby pincers instead of servos. He was hunched over, with no neck but a small head with four secondary optics and one huge primary optic, glowing red. The mighty Decepticon lieutenant Lugnut.

The other was tall and lanky, with a hunch and a long neck that craned forward. A vertically long face, devoid of any detail except a single beady optic, was framed by two horn-like antennae. He was long-legged and long-armed, with sharp claws for servos. The former Decepticon double agent Shockwave.

And strapped to an upright stretcher was a third Decepticon. He was far taller than Optimus Prime and broader, powerfully-built like no other mech Optimus had ever seen. His silver armour was contrasted with red and black plating here and there. Framing his dark countenance was a helmet. Two red optics glittered out from his unreadable face as he surveyed Optimus.

The stuff of legend and Autobot nightmares. The Supreme Lord of the Decepticons, Megatron himself.

But now Megatron wasn't living up to his reputation. His armour was cracked and split. His infamous fusion cannon was missing from his right arm, and his left arm was barely intact, stripped of all armour. Some of the damage had been done by an exploding Omega Supreme clone; some had been inflicted by Optimus.

Optimus looked at the Decepticons awkwardly, unsure how to handle the situation. Eventually he approached Lugnut and Shockwave and adjusted their stasis cuffs. One after the other he helped the two Decepticons to their feet.

"You two will be able to walk now, but you won't be able to move your servos. Head for the exit ramp. My team will be waiting for you there. Don't try to run away. You won't only have to deal with Omega Supreme and my team, but every Autobot on Cybertron".

As Lugnut struggled to his feet, he glared at Optimus, "Hah! And why would we run from you, lowly Autobot scum?! You presume to order us? You may think you have the advantage, but the mighty Megatron will restore us to glory! Megatron knows all and sees all…"

"Lugnut", Megatron barked in his refined, commanding and yet icy-cold voice, "Enough. Do as the Autobot orders".

Lugnut nodded obediently and shuffled out of the cargo room, followed by Shockwave. Optimus watched them make their way awkwardly down the corridor, then approached Megatron. He didn't look the Decepticon leader in the optic. Stepping behind the stretcher, he gripped the handles and began to wheel it out.

"How does it feel, Autobot?" Megatron asked.

"Forgotten my name again, Megatron?" Optimus snapped, "And how does what feel, exactly?"

"To have conquered your people's greatest enemy, to have stepped forward and taken the mantle of leadership upon yourself, to have triumphed in the face of overwhelming adversity and against all expectations", Megatron answered.

"Oh", Optimus thought about that as he wheeled Megatron down the corridors, "Actually, not good".

"No? Why ever not?" Megatron said inquisitively, "Ah…yes. The cyber-ninja's sacrifice. How noble. Heroic even, if nonsensical".

"What are you getting at, Megatron?" Optimus snarled. He had no patience for any processor games the Decepticon might want to play with him.

"I was simply wondering what it must be like to achieve one's goals in a single solar cycle. After all, you have returned to Cybertron a conquering hero, with the mightiest Decepticons in the galaxy your prisoners, the AllSpark in your servos and utter victory yours. Surely…"

"Maybe. But I always assumed we would all get through it", Optimus replied softly.

Megatron went quiet. The clank of the stretcher being wheeled through the corridors was suddenly very loud. Outside, muffled as if very far away, Optimus could hear the roar of a gathering crowd, and the drone of Omega Supreme's engines as they powered down.

"Spare me", Megatron said suddenly.

Optimus started, "What?"

"Spare me the humiliation. I cannot bear to be gawked upon by all Cybertron as a prisoner of war, a trophy for the Autobots to admire. I beg you to spare me the humiliation, Optimus Prime".

The Autobot captain didn't answer. He stopped pushing the stretcher and propped it upright. Megatron angled his head slightly to look back at him, and Optimus could see the gleam of his red optics.

"Show me this small mercy, Optimus Prime. Have pity".

Optimus smiled. Then he started to laugh, loud and bitterly.

"Show you mercy, Megatron? Pity? You would have wiped out all of Detroit and everyone in it for your little 'test'. You remember what I said about you not deserving 'the easy way out'? Well, this is what I meant. Your precious pride is going to have endure this. And right now I don't care if it survives".

He seized the stretcher again and continued to push it towards the docking bay. After a moment Megatron spoke.

"Have it your way. Soon you will regret having denied me this leniency, I assure you".

Optimus ignored the threat. He rounded the last corner and arrived at the entry ramp. The shutters were still closed. Outside the roar of a crowd was getting louder. Ratchet, Jazz, Bulkhead and Bumblebee were holding Prowl's pall. Off to one side was Sari, in her robot mode. Next to her was Arcee, looking uncomfortable. Lugnut and Shockwave stood sullenly behind the Autobots.

"Is everyone ready?" Optimus asked, as he placed Megatron's stretcher on the cargo conveyor belt.

"All ready, boss-bot", Bumblebee replied nervously. The thunder of the crowd was getting louder.

"One thing, big guy", Sari activated her jetpack and boosted into the air towards Optimus Prime. In her hands she held a thick chain, and attached to it was the AllSpark in its new casing. It was nearly as large as Sari, but her superhuman strength bore it with ease. She hovered in front of Optimus, and looped the chain around his neck, so that the AllSpark hung in front of his chest plate.

"There, now you look the part", she winked at him.

"Uh…are you sure I should be wearing the AllSpark, Ratchet?" Optimus held up the spherical casing in one servo, "It seems a little…well…disrespectful".

"You're the hero of the mega cycle, Prime", Ratchet shrugged his shoulders. When Optimus opened his mouth to protest he cut him short, "Sure, we all played our part. But right now Cybertron needs a hero, and that hero is you. And while we're at it, the Magnus Hammer is over there".

Optimus looked at where Ratchet was inclining his head towards. The mighty Magnus Hammer was propped up against the wall, waiting for him. Tentatively, Optimus picked it up and held it across his chest.

"Alright. Let's go", he said.

"Wait!" a voice cried, and the Autobots turned to look at Arcee, who had begun shaking, "I…I can't do this. I can't go out there and face all those 'bots. I need time. This is all so…so…"

"Arcee, you deserve to be here as much as any of us do", Bumblebee offered.

"I still can't do it", she took a step back, "Please. I just need some time before I can…

"Alright, Arcee. If that's what you need", said Ratchet, as gently as he could manage.

"Wait for us in Omega's cockpit. We'll be back to check on you as soon as we can", Optimus said.

Arcee nodded, then head down, slunk away towards Omega Supreme's cockpit. The Autobots watched her go.

"Is she gonna be alright?" Bulkhead wondered.

"These things take time", Ratchet watched her go sadly.

"Well, she's got all the time in the galaxy to chill now", said Jazz.

"Yeah. I guess", Ratchet looked up, and patted one of Omega Supreme's internal walls, "You too, old friend. Wait 'til you see the look on their faceplates when you make your grand return!" he chuckled. Omega didn't reply.

"Alright. Here we go", Optimus took a deep breath, then pressed the open button on the hatch.

At once the doors slid away, and the cargo conveyor belt kicked in, which extended into the exit ramp. Down they went, the Autobot heroes, their fallen comrade, their technorganic friend, the AllSpark, the Decepticon prisoners and the three surviving protoforms.

And before them, the centre of the capital of Cybertron, Iacon. Omega Supreme had chosen his transwarp co-ordinates carefully. Looming above them was the giant installation of Metroplex, the headquarters of the Autobot High Council. And beyond that citadel for the Autobot Elite Guard, Fortress Maximus, silhouetted against the reddened skies of Cybertron. Many lesser buildings dotted the cold-grey landscape, internal and external lights blazing.

But it was not the scenery that occupied the attention of the Autobots, nor even Sari, who had never been to Cybertron before. It was the enormous, cheering crowd of Autobots before them, more than Optimus had ever seen in one place before. Hundreds. Thousands. Of every size and shape.

Optimus reached the end of the conveyor belt. For the first time in over three hundred stellar cycles, he stepped onto the duranium surface of Cybertron. The others Autobots followed suit, as did the silent, obedient Decepticons.

At the front of the crowd, Optimus glimpsed Sentinel Prime, his rival, glaring at him, arms folded, the only Autobot in the vast crowd not cheering enthusiastically. But even he went slack-jawed as behind them, the Autobot starship transformed into Omega Supreme, the supposedly long-dead hero of the Great War, towering over them all.

The crowd went silent. Then after a moment, the cheering erupted once more, utterly deafening, overwhelming Optimus' audio receptors.

He glanced at the three Decepticons behind him. All three were silent, staring at the mass of Autobots blankly. Megatron, to his credit, had apparently decided to suffer his humiliation with grim dignity.

From the crowd approached a few Autobots; the Autobot High Council, led by the elder Autobot Alpha Trion and the Head of the Ministry of Science, Perceptor. Sentinel Prime sullenly joined the group as they headed directly towards Optimus' team.

Alpha Trion stopped within ten metres of Optimus, and spoke loudly to be heard over the bellow of the crowd, "Come. There is much we have to discuss".


"There….that looks good!" the female clone of Starscream took a step back to admire her handiwork.

She had hung the sparkless shell of Starscream up by a selection of huge, protruding pipes, one underneath each arm so that he hung, crucifixion-style, upon the wall of the huge, domed room.

"Perfect!" the clone nodded approvingly at her macabre trophy, "Hold it right there, Starscream", she chuckled to herself in cruel amusement.

She had returned to her base; the Detroit Solar Fusion Power Plant. It was an enormous facility, more than large enough to house a Decepticon. It had been abandoned after an attempt by the human criminal, the infamous Henry Masterson or 'the Headmaster', to detonate the reactor, which would have resulted in a state-sized explosion. The disaster had been averted thanks to the Autobots, but the plant had still been deemed too dangerous to re-open and so had been abandoned temporarily.

After the female clone had been separated from her fellow Decepticons by Omega Supreme's devastating attack, she had decided discretion was the better part of valour and lain low.

On the few occasions she had encountered fellow Decepticons, Lugnut, Blitzwing and two of her fellow Starscream clones, she had refused invitations to go Autobot hunting. After all, what was the point in risking her chassis in acts of random violence? Much better to stay low and bide one's time.

Funny thing is, she thought to herself as she headed for a makeshift seat she had fashioned out of scaffolding, was that she had bumped into the Autobots purely by accident in the end. Just earlier that solar cycle she had blasted Optimus Prime out of the air after mistaking him for Starscream. What a cute notion – flying Autobots. Whose half-processed idea had that been?

Something struck her hard. A tremendous blow caught her in the midsection. It threw her backwards into one of dirty steel walls, cracking it with the force of her impact.

Stunned, the clone shook herself back to full alertness and scrambled to her feet. She scanned the room in front of her, and could see nothing in the poorly-lit room. Her assailant had either attacked her from a distance, or attacked close up with great strength and retreated into the gloom before she could see it.

"Urgh! Cheap shot!" she snarled and raised her arm blasters, "Just you try that again…"

Another blow struck her. She was hurled back up against the wall, twisting her body in the process and landing awkwardly.

"What the spark?!" her audio receptors were ringing painfully as she forced herself back up, "Come out, Autobot!" she braced herself for another blast from this invisible foe.

It never came.

"Error: invalid target. Identification: unconfirmed".

The voice was bizarre; monotonous, synthesized and devoid of emotion, yet at the same time melodious, deep and smooth.

A 'bot stepped out of the darkness. He was not as large as the Starscream clone, perhaps only two-thirds the height, but stocky and stout with wide shoulders. His chassis was blue with gold and cyan adornment. An armoured head with golden plating instead of a mouth and a red visor instead of traditional optics completed the 'bot's odd appearance.

The femmebot trained her weapons on the 'bots chest, "Stay right where you are!"

He stopped in his tracks. He peered at her, his face unreadable.

"Who are you?" he asked.

She didn't answer. She kept her blasters levelled at him.

"Are you Decepticon?" he droned.

For the first time, the femmebot noticed a Decepticon insignia on the 'bot's chest. But she didn't lower her weapons.

"Yes", she hissed, "I'm a Decepticon".

"Then forgive my error. I mistook you for an Autobot".

"And why the slag would you assume that?"

The 'bot pointed at something on the far wall. The clone dared to snatch a quick look. He was pointing at Starscream's corpse.

"Huh. Well I guess that is fairly convincing anti-Decepticon evidence. But I really am a Decepticon. See", she quickly tapped the insignia on her right wing.

"Affirmative. I propose a cease in hostilities".

Slowly, the female clone lowered her weapons, "Alright, Mr. trigger-happy, what's your story?"

"I am Soundwave. I am Decepticon. Who are you?"

"I'm a clone of Starscream. Him", she pointed at her trophy.

"What is your designation?"

"What?"

"What is your designation?"

"Designation?" the female clone looked puzzled, "Like…a name?"

She had never had a name. Starscream had not exactly been the most caring creator. He had produced his clones to serve as little more than cannon-fodder in his attempt to overthrow Megatron. He hadn't bothered to deal with such absurdities as names for his creations.

And the femmebot had spent most of her time since her creation in isolation, living alone. There had been no need for a name. The thought had never occurred to her.

"I don't have a name", she said eventually, "Guess I should get one, huh?"

"A designation maximizes efficiency in communication", was Soundwave's reply.

She arched an eyebrow at him, while considering a suitable name. Soundwave waited patiently as she mulled over what she thought sounded suitable.

Eventually she said, "Call me…Slipstream".

"Very well, Slipstream", Soundwave's optics narrowed ever so slightly, ""We have much to discuss".