Opal sat with Tracks in the room that would one day be her spa. She was trying to figure out why Creator sparks were showing up in male bot forms. It was against Primus' design. "You came online after we went into hiding?"

"Yes," Tracks nodded. "My protoform emerged after Optimus was made Prime. I'm relatively young, only around three million years."

"It was the same with Soundwave," Opal mused out loud. "I wonder if Vector Sigma had something to do with this."

"Vector Sigma?" Tracks asked.

Opal couldn't help but feel sorry for Tracks. This had to have been difficult for him to take in. "Vector Sigma's sole purpose is to continue giving life to protoforms." Opal explained. "Since we were gone then any new female was most likely encouraged to take on a worker or warrior form, leaving no room for a secondary spar chamber. Vector Sigma may just be a computer but it must have somehow figured out what was happening, went against its programming, and started putting Creator sparks into male forms. Your chassis are bigger and can hold both a transforming cog and secondary spark chamber. I wonder how many male Creators there are."

"I wonder how many are out there who don't know. A spark touch is a hard thing to achieve." Tracks countered. "The ones who do are… treated like freaks. The sparks they… we create are not of Primus." His hand covered his secondary chamber. "They are doomed to be Sub-bots."

Opal placed her hand on Track's shoulder. He had just recently discovered that was something that his people treated like a pariah. The fear of what was going to happen to him was clear in his optics. "Only a total of thirteen sparks were cut directly from Primus," Opal told him. "The rest where created through spark touch. The ones you create are no different from any other."

Tracks shook his head, "I don't know if anyone is going to believe that. The council has declared them inferior."

"The council, what do they know? And the other Autobots don't need to know what we can do," Opal waved her hand. She found this all very irritating. "You will be safe. The one I worry about is Soundwave. What he can do is well known and he is a way for Megatron to continue to build his army."

"Maybe," Tracks hesitated and thought. "Maybe I could find a way to damage Soundwave's secondary spark chamber. That will keep Megatron from using those sparks."

"That would only devastate him," Opal shook her head. "I would rather try to bring him over to the Autobots' side. He isn't treated well by his fellow Decepticons. Let's just hope that Megatron continues with his elitist mentality and sees those sparks as lesser beings. Not matter what he says, he is no better than those on the council."

"What do we do now?"

"I will talk to Optimus," She said and she could see that her words were doing little to ease his mind. "I will find a way to fix this."

….

Soundwave sat working on the new bodies for the sparks in his secondary chamber. His processors raced in fear when he learned that Opal was gone. Without her, Megatron will turn to his troops for pleasure and the thought of touching sparks with him had Soundwave's energon running cold.

He needed to build bodies for the four sparks nestled in his chamber, before Megatron turned his attention to him. They weren't ready, but it was better than being extinguished when Megatron forced a spark touch. He had four frames built, and he just needed to make them spark ready.

"Soundwave," Dirge entered the room. "Megatron's looking for you."

Soundwave froze, looking down at the four unfinished bodies. It was too late, one of his creations was soon going to fizzle. Knowing that there was nothing that he could do to stop it, he stood and followed Dirge to where Megatron was waiting.

They entered Megatron's cambers and the Decepticon leader turned to face Soundwave. "Mixmaster said that he witnessed something… interesting earlier," he stated waving Dirge out. "You were able to hold Frenzy's spark in your chassis."

Soundwave stood silent.

"Then I started to wonder," Megatron continued as he walked towards Soundwave. "How did you create the sparks for your little creations?"

"Random," Soundwave replied.

"They just appear. You do nothing?"

Soundwave remained silent. Something deep inside told him that Megatron should not know how he made sparks.

He took too long to reply. Megatron's hand came up and wrapped around Soundwave's neck. His grip was tight enough to cut off Soundwave's air intake valve and restrict the flow of energon. "You will answer me," he pulled Soundwave close. "Lift your visor and remove your mask, and enough with your simplistic way of speaking. You will speak to me like a normal bot or I will rip out what is left of your vocal unit."

The red visor lifted to reveal Soundwave's light blue optics and his mask parted to reveal his damaged face. He had a beautiful voice before the attack that damaged his vocal unit and scarred his face. As a protoform he would sing and dreamed of entertaining others. He chose his form so that his voice could be amplified and so that he had a way to record his songs. But that all changed when it was discovered what he was and what he could do and he was beaten to the point that he thought he was going to die. The damage to his voice box could not be undone and he hated his voice, so he decided then to be a bot of little words.

His hand came up and covered the chamber that held the four sparks. "It happens randomly when I touch sparks," he admitted. "I don't know why it happens."

"Has it ever happened when we touched sparks?" Megatron inquired.

Soundwave shook his head as best as he could in Megatron's tight grip, "No. Your spark… destroys them."

A smile crept across Megatron's face, "This is why you so eagerly brought me Opal."

"Yes." Soundwave remembered finding Opal. She came out of hiding to find out the state of things and he captured her. He had had enough of losing his sparks to Megatron's touch and he saw Opal as his salvation.

"I want to show you something," Megatron released Soundwave and walked towards a door. It slid open and Megatron stepped inside and Soundwave followed.

Soundwave stopped and looked in disbelief at all the protoforms. There were so many.

Megatron gestured to all the empty chassis, "I want you to fill them with your 'inferior' sparks."

Soundwave walked through the protoforms, running his hand over them as he passed. They were made in the upper level factories and were elite grade protoforms.

Megatron's optics stayed on him, "I will turn them into Seekers and Combineders of the greatest caliber. Together we will grow my Decepticon army and destroy Optimus Prime and the Matrix of Leadership."

It was too good to pass up. Soundwave walked over and lifted a protoform then took it over to place it in a stasis chamber. Megatron stood back and watched while Soundwave moved a total of four protoforms. "You will give them time to mature?" Soundwave asked his leader.

"Yes," Megatron answered. "You have my word. And they will be treated the same as any other within my ranks. Better in fact. Instead of Sub-bots, they will be Elite. No one will ever know that they came from you. I promised that I would take care of you. That is why you joined me in the first place, so that your little creations would be safe. I am a bot of my word. My cause is to bring justice to all bots, including yours. No more of the council's cruel segregations."

It was greater than anything he had ever hoped for his creations. They would be above him in their station. Though they would be taught to look down on him, he didn't care. They would live. One by one Soundwave placed his created sparks into the protoforms, sealing them in and keeping his hand over the spark chamber until it settled. When he was done he turned to Megatron, "That is all I have for now."

"So, your secondary spark chamber is empty?" Megatron asked.

"Yes," Soundwave nodded, knowing very well what Megatron wanted.

Megatron smiled, "Good. Now I don't have to worry about snuffing one out."

Soundwave's optics shot up to meet with Megatron's, "Correct." Even though he was expecting it, he was still unnerved by the thought of touching Megatron's spark. The agony it brought was greater than anything he had ever faced.

Megatron spun his finger for Soundwave to turn around. Due to the location of the storage camber in the front of his chassis, used for holding his cassettes, Soundwave's connectors were located in his back. He dropped his visor and closed his mask and turned to face the wall. He slid open his back plate for Megatron and braced himself against the wall.

Most of Soundwave's connectors were ones that brought him pleasure and it was rare to find one that hurt, even with Megatron. And he had more plugs than cords, which was another rarity with the male form. Megatron however had no plugs at all and he never stopped with just five. He connected as many of his cords as he could.

"Now that Opal's gone, there will be a void that needs to be filled among the troops," Megatron growled as he connected to Soundwave. "If touching sparks has you create sparks, then I want you to do it as often as possible. Have the troops come to you as opposed to each other."

"Yes, Lord Megatron." Soundwave agreed. It wasn't going to be hard. Despite how unpopular he was among the Decepticons, they all knew that he had the best connectors and that a spark touch was almost guaranteed so they came to him often.

Though the connections were good and sent pleasure through Soundwave's body, when they touched sparks it brought its usual searing pain. But, Soundwave didn't scream. He never screamed, even when it felt as if his spark was being torn from him.

He would endure the agony to make sure that his creations were safe.

….

Optimus was looking over reports from his scouts when Opal walked in, "We need to talk." Her blatant lack of respect for his authority was making him understand why the council disliked her kind. They were nothing more than care givers for Cybertronians, she had no right to speak to him in such a way.

He looked over at her, "I'm busy."

"This can't wait," she insisted.

What could she want that was more important than anything he was working on? They were on an alien planet, along with Megatron and his army of Decepticons, putting the planet in danger and she probably wanted to talk about her spa. He had a feeling that she wasn't going to leave unless he humored her. "Really?" Optimus stood. "What is it about?"

"I'm just going to ask you outright," she stated, dispensing with the politeness that her kind were known for. "Did the council have you open the Matrix when they made you Prime?"

Prime shook his head, "No. They said it should only be opened in our darkest hour."

Opal rolled her optics, "I swear there is something suspicious about the council."

"They are my most trusted advisors," Prime crossed his arms, not liking her tone.

"And yet they didn't have you open the Matrix," she shot back. "Either they forgot that it needed to be done. Or they didn't want you to. There are too many things that have been forgotten over the generations." She looked up at him, "Whose idea was it for you to leave Cybertron?"

"Theirs," Prime answered. "To keep the Matrix safe and to find us more energon."

She held out her hand, "Give me the Matrix, Orion."

"How dare you refer to me by that name," Prime snapped. "I am Optimus Prime. I know you were not around for it but Orion Pax was killed when Megatron shot me point blank in the chest. I was too naïve back then, I trusted too quickly. "

"I'm sorry you were hurt, you're not Prime yet, but I can make you one." She smiled up at him. "I've seen it done a few times."

Optimus could only look at her while his processors raced. Who was she to give him orders? What could she possibly know about the Matrix?

"It will all be clear to you soon," Opal assured him, "if you trust me."

"I did trust you once. Why did you leave?" Prime whispered. Then his sorrow turned to anger, "You know what, don't answer. I know. It's the way of your kind. You go from bot to bot, selling yourselves to the highest bidder, never committing, and all for your own pleasure."

"A statement like that only proves to me that you are not truly a Prime." She looked like she wanted to scream but she managed herself to keep calm. "The reason we left was because of the way things were before your war even started, thought the hostilities were already on the rise. It wasn't an environment we wanted to be in so we fled to the hidden passages within Cybertron."

Prime was also struggling to keep his emotions in check. He had cared about Opal long ago, long before he had met Eleta One. The question was, could he trust her now? He got to his knees so that his optics would be at level with hers, "I loved you. I would have done anything you told me to then."

"I'm sorry that I left you. My kind, we're not meant to be with just one, though it was not unheard of for us to have a favorite. We tried to make things better but the Prime before you would not listen to us. To be honest, I don't think Nova was ever truly a Prime either. I had no choice." Opal smiled, "Trust me now and you will understand everything. Let me help you undo the damage that the council had done."

Thoughts raced through Optimus' mind. He remembered the venomous things that the council had said about the pleasure seeking 'true females'. What if Opal was being deceptive? What if she was actually working for the Decepticons? Their goal was the Matrix. But on the other hand, what if she was being truthful?

After a few moments of contemplation, Prime nodded and opened his chassis to remove the Matrix.

Opal nodded, "At least it is the real thing." She guided his hands so that he was holding it the right way, "Now pull. If you are worthy, it will open." He pulled and the Matrix parted, and the orb inside pulsed and hovered in place. "Open your spark chamber," she instructed.

Spark fluttering in his chest, Prime did as she instructed and the orb shot tendrils of energy into his spark. His optics flickered and he looked at her in confusion. "What's happening?"

"Prima wants to say 'hi'," she answered as his processors went off line.

...

Optimus awoke deep inside himself, but he was not alone. "Hello?" he called out into the emptiness. The presents came closer. "Who's there?"

"Prima," a voice answered.

"How?" Prime looked around, but Prima stayed aloof. "You died a long time ago."

"I am one with the Matrix," Prima answered. "Do you believe yourself to be worthy of the name Prime, Orion?"

"I have no idea why the council chose me, but I believe I can do the job," Optimus answered. "I have been for over four million years."

"They chose you to further fuel their rebellion," Prima responded.

"No," Prime argued. "They were trying to end the rebellion, to bring order to Cybertron."

"Know what I know," Prima declared. "See what I have seen. Join your spark to the Matrix and become the true Prime and no longer a puppet of the council."

Memories of Prima, and of all the Primes that had followed, flooded into Opitmus' mind, knowledge that was lost over the millions of years. He 'remembered' the loneliness that Prima felt after defeating Unicron with the Matrix.

Primus had watched organic worlds and the creatures on them and wanted to give its own creations the same, the ability to create life themselves. Twelve more bots were created, eight male and four female and they were charged with the task of populating the world by creating new sparks. They were created form the body of Primus, Cybertron. They were given an immortal spark cut from the very essence of Primus itself, also known as the All Spark.

The protection of the Matrix was the job Prima, his immortal spark part of the Matrix. But when he grew weary of life he passed it on to a new bot, who rose to be the new Prime. The other twelve original Cybertronians, after millions of years, decided to return to the All Spark. Their descendants continued to thrive and the population of Cybertron continued to grow.

The council did not know that the Matrix was sentient and that their words could be heard. The council were not who they seemed. What they showed to the public was vastly different than what they talked about in private. They took the energon from Cybertron and gave it to a race of creatures called the Quintessons then told the populous that there was a shortage. Cybertron had plenty of energon to last for billions of years. In return, they got power.

They created the division among the Cybertronians. The once equal protoform factories were broken down into class rankings based on location and for the first time the protoforms varied. The council wanted the conflict, suppressing some in hopes of a rebellion. The rebellion was intended to cull the number of Cybertronians so that the Quintessons could easily conquer them. They wanted slaves.

Dread filled Optimus when he heard the memories of the conversation they had over the Matrix when their attempts to destroy it by killing Sentinal Prime had failed. They wanted to get it off of Cybertron and chose Optimus to be Prime believing him to be easily manipulated and because he was the one Megatron had attacked, knowing that it would only fuel Megatron's anger. It took a few million years before they could find a reason for him leave Cybertron. On the surface the reason was to search for energon but in reality it was so that the weapon that was used against Unicron would be gone when the Quintessons could move in.

Cybertron was in trouble. He had to return with the Matrix and save his people.

Prime's processors came back online and he placed the Matrix back in his chassis. Before it felt heavy but, for the first time, it felt right. He felt like he was truly a Prime. "Thank you," he said to Opal. "And, I'm sorry."

"Now that you know," Opal helped him stand, "I need to tell you something."

"What?"

"Tracks is also a Creator," she said flatly. "I don't understand what is going on with Vector Sigma."

"It was the council," Optimus corrected. "They found out, somehow and placed Creator sparks in male chassis to cause more conflict. They were the one to cause it and they were the ones to condemn them and their creations." He shook his head. "This means that Soundwave…."

Opal nodded, "He is a creator."

"And Megatron has him," Prime sighed. "The bad news just keeps coming. He can build his army."

"At least, now, you know the truth."

Prime leaned forward over his desk, "You and Tracks can open the spa and connect with anybot you choose. I'm afraid that I might need the sparks the two of you create to build an army of my own."

A sad smile spread across Opal's face. "It's not that easy. The Sparks will need time to mature."

"We may have no choice. The ones who went off world," Prime stood up. "We will need them as well, if the Quintessons have taken over Cybertron. We're going to be fighting a war on two fronts."

"They fled for a reason, Optimus," Opal pointed out, "they don't want to fight."

"They didn't want to fight in the civil war," Prime argued, "but they might be willing to take up arms to free Cybertron."

"I hope so," Opal sighed. "Or our world is lost."

Wheeljack stood watching several satellite feeds from the local area. He found the humans to be fascinating. Skids entered the room and looked up at the screen. "What are you looking at?"

"The dominate life form on this planet," Wheeljack answered, without taking his optics from the screen.

"Why?" Skids sneered.

Wheeljack shrugged, "I'm a scientist." He pointed at the screen, "Look at what they are doing. It's called 'kissing'."

"That kissing thing does look interesting," Skids admitted. "Maybe I should go find Tracks."

"We don't have the tongues required to do it," Wheeljack pointed out.

"I'm sure Tracks will figure something out," Skids smiled. "That boy likes to experiment."

"You have fun with that," Wheeljack huffed.