Sorry it took so long. I had to get over writer's block. :( I hate that thing. Anywho, the song for this chapter is The Catalyst by Linkin Park, for lack of a better song. Catalyst means 'A person or thing that precipitates an event.' Precipitate being 'causing', that would be this chapter causing the rest of the book. Confusing, huh?

Thanks to Purpleismyfavouitecolour and IronhideFan1993 for adding this story to their favs and/or alerts.

Bee4ever: Yep, something is most definitely brewin'! :)

Groon= Cybertronian time equal to an Earth hour


Prowl stared glumly at the data pad in his servo. What's wrong with me? I used to get these done quickly. Now I can't even finish one. He jumped when an incoming comm. surprised him.

.:Will you help me debrief Silvermoon? She's not cooperating as much as I had hoped she would.:. -Optimus Prime

.:Of course. I am on my way.:. -Prowl

Again, Prowl wondered what was wrong. He knew his job sucked, but now he was jumping at every possibility to get away from his office. He quickly glanced at the stack he had finished, and noted they were reports and the like. The ones he was having troubles with were number-related pads. He got to his pedes and strode out of the office without another thought on his work.


Silvermoon gazed at Ratchet as he examined Bumblebee's leg. The yellow bot had his optics trained on the medic's servos and they glided over the blackened metal. They hovered over the cables that had been replaced. One finger transformed into some kind of tweezer. It prodded and pulled for a nano-klik, then Ratchet withdrew his servo.

"You should be to go. Don't be on your pedes too much for a few solar cycles and stay away from Wheeljack's lab," Ratchet ordered. Bee nodded, the look in his optics saying he would be staying away from Wheeljack and the bot's lab for a while. He got out of the berth and headed for the door. Then he paused and looked back at Silvermoon. He waved.

Slightly surprised, she waved back, smiling as she did. Then the yellow mech left, leaving her alone with Ratchet. Said medic strode over to her berth then. He glanced at the monitor.

"What's the war over?" Silvermoon asked. Ratchet was caught off-guard by the question and studied her for a moment.

"Possession and leadership of Cybertron," he replied slowly. She cocked her head as she processed the information. What power-hungry glitchhead would try to rule over all of Cybertron? Silvermoon wondered. Wait, Prowl mentioned somebot's name. Megaton, was it? No... Megatron! That's it!

"Who's Megatron?"

Ratchet looked baffled. Even if she had been offline, who didn't know who Megatron was? "You might know him by his former name. The gladiator, Megatronus."

Now it was Silvermoon's turn to looked surprised. "Megatronus? I met him once! He didn't seem that bad. Why'd he turn evil?" Then she noticed Ratchet's rather annoyed look. A wry grin crossed her faceplates, unnoticed by the medic. She was annoying him, and annoying bots was her specialty.

"Sooo, Which side are the Autobots on?" she asked, propping herself on one arm and watching Ratchet. He huffed.

"Stopping Megatron from ruling the entire planet."

"And I suppose you always are this grumpy?"

He whirled around and glared at Silvermoon. Unspacing a wrench, he pointed it at her threateningly. "I suppose you always ask this many questions?" She looked at the wrench, unfazed. A loud boom of the doors made Ratchet jump just then.

"What, do you whack bots over the helm with that?"

"Actually, yes, he does," Optimus said, sounding amused. The chartreuse medic glared at his leader and subspaced the wrench. He turned his optics back to the monitor for the fourth time.

"You are in decent shape now. Just stay one lunar cycle and you'll be good to leave," he said, turning and walking away after he said that. Optimus watched him go, then turned his attention to the femme on the berth in front of him.

"Who are you?" asked Silvermoon.

"I am Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobot cause," he said gently. Silvermoon was taken aback, realizing how rude she'd sounded, since he was a high rank.

"Sorry, sir. I'm not trying to be rude," she apologized.

"It is quite alright," Optimus responded, retaining the regal air he always had around him. Silvermoon noticed the way he held himself and made mental note to never mess with him. "I am assuming you have a lot of questions about what is going to on? I have the information for you, and some words of cation as well."

Silvermoon nodded, knowing that this was when she could get her answers. "Prowl mentioned something about it not being wise to be neutral. Why?"

Optimus shuttered his optics for a moment, looking sad. When he refocused on her, she saw something like hurt in his gaze. "Megatron has not been able to find a sparkmate. He desires one for sparklings, and won't hesitate to kidnap unbonded femmes and force himself upon them. He has attempted to capture Autobot femmes as well, but forces have always stopped him. If you were to become an Autobot, we could protect you, but as a neutral, you would have to move into one of the civilian towns. The Elite Guard is making sure that no bot but soldiers live on the base."

"The Elite Guard? I went to the academy, maybe I could join them," Silvermoon offered. Optimus mulled over this.

"That would be wise, but they are unfortunately not accepting bots to join at the moment," he informed her. Her expression went from hopeful to thoughtful. "You attended the academy before you crashed into the first moon, correct?"

"Yeah. I was at the academy right before I crashed. I remember fleeing the academy, getting onto my ship, and launching, but then I saw the stars that were far-off and something hit my ship. Then everything is black," she said, more to herself then the Prime.

"Why did you flee?" he asked, puzzled by her word choice. She immediately became defensive, hiding herself behind a wall.

"I... It's not important," she replied distantly.

"It was important at the time," Optimus said, pressing her.

"Mhmm," she answered. Optimus covered a sigh and commed Prowl.

.:Will you help me debrief Silvermoon? She's not cooperating as much as I had hoped she would.:. -Optimus Prime

.:Of course. I am on my way.:. -Prowl

Optics returning their gaze on the room, the Prime noted Silvermoon looked like her focus was somewhere deep in her past. He took the opportunity to study her a bit more. Her slim frame looked slightly battered from her cycles in stasis, but the silver and navy blue paints looked fresh, thanks to the snow. Her armor was the thin kind from before the war, but it fitted her protoform nicely, not being too tight or loose. The style she had complimented her frame.

The doors to the med bay squeaked open, making Optimus look over. His sensors indicated that Silvermoon was gazing at Prowl, who entered the room, as well. Optimus noticed that Ratchet peered around the door to his office, checking on if a wounded bot was coming in. The medibot saw it was only the SIC and withdrew again.

Prowl strode over to Silvermoon's berth and glanced at her. "You commed?" he asked Optimus. Silvermoon knew she looked slightly hurt, now knowing that Prowl hadn't come to see her, rather to see to his leader's needs.

Optimus glanced at her briefly and said, "Yes. I find it intriguing that Silvermoon here will not tell us what happened to make her leave Cybertron in the first place, when it seemed important all those years ago." Prowl looked at his friend.

Silvermoon groaned and brought her knees up to her chest, slamming her helm onto them so the two mechs couldn't see her faceplates. "I don't want to talk about it," she said, slightly muffled. Prowl knew this was why Optimus had commed him, but he also knew when she didn't want to talk about something, she'd never open up. He opened up a private comm. link.

.:Sir, I have known her long enough that persistence never makes her answer. She might reveal the answer in time.:. -Prowl

.:Understood. Can you take over from here? I need to help find the wreckers.:. -Optimus Prime

.:I can.:. -Prowl

Optimus nodded and stood up. "Swift recoveries, Silvermoon." The femme looked up at him and acknowledged his leave. Then the leader set off at a pace that said he had a purpose, but didn't seem hurried.

She looked at Prowl, knowing he had to do with Optimus' swift departure. "Thanks for getting him off my chassis," she said. The tactician nodded and sat down on the edge of her berth. "So... what's happened since I was in stasis?"


Prowl stretched once he was outside the med bay. He'd spoken to Silvermoon for a few groons, and he needed to get a few more data pads done before he could go into recharge. Tomorrow she'd be dismissed, and he could talk more then.


Silvermoon bounded out of the med bay, eager to leave Ratchet and his grumpy mood behind, his warning to take care of herself still ringing in her audio receptors. The doors eased shut and she glanced down the hall in both directions.

Slag. I don't know where anything is. Deciding to turn right, she set a pace that got her to the next intersection quickly. More hallways branched off. This whole base is a fraggin' maze! Turning left this time, the femme went past several closed doors. Each had a sign that proclaimed a bot's name. This was obviously a berth room area.

She wandered around for a few more breems before noise hit her audio receptors. She followed it and stopped before the room that the sound was coming from. About seven bots were in the room, all mechs. It was some kind of rec room, judging by the tables, energon dispensers, and monitors spread throughout it. Cautiously, Silvermoon entered the room. None of them noticed her until she made her way to the one bot she recognized; Bumblebee.

Out of the corner of her optic, she saw two of the mechs in particular watching her. One was blue and holding himself with an air that nobles were notorious for possessing; the other mech was red and orange, with flame decals. She ignored the duo and continued for the yellow bot, who had seen her. Bee was standing next to a silver mech that was considerably shorter than him, and a black mech who had large cannons welded onto both arms.

"Bumblebee," she said, stopping next to the three. "Can you show me where Prowl's office is?"

Bee responded in a series of clicks and beeps that were a basic Cybertronian audio code. "Sorry, I have guard duty in a breem or two. Maybe jazz could show you instead," he beeped, indicating the silver mech. She looked at him.

"Hey, lil' lady. It's good ta see ya online at las'," the mech (Jazz, she corrected herself) said. She smiled slightly. He saw her confusion and elaborated. "Me an' Ironhide here were on tha rescue mission to get ya off tha firs' moon."

"Oh," she responded. "So can you show me to his office?"

"Sho thing," he said, leading her out the door. When he went back past the med bay in the opposite direction, Silvermoon felt stupid.

A bot stopped Jazz right after they'd passed the med bay. He was bright orange and had a slight crazed look to him. "Jazz, Prime wants every available officer to report to his office as quickly as possible. He's discovered some evidence of who the bot might be that sabotaged the ships," he reported. Jazz nodded.

"I'll do tha' as soon as I show Silvamoo' to Prowler's office," Jazz said, dissmissing him. He watched as the two went off again with a slight look of suspicion to his faceplates.

"Don' mind him," Jazz said once they were out of the mech's audio range. "Tha's Fireshower, he's a new recruit an' kinda psychopathic at times." Silvermoon nodded and continued following him, processing the orange mech's words.

"'Every available officer,'" she echoed. "Are you in a position of power?"

"Third in comman'" Jazz said, puffing out his chest plates in a proud sort of way. She smiled at his display. He stopped at a door and said, "We're here. Prowler's office. Goo' luck with whateva."

"Thanks," she replied. He nodded and walked off to Prime's office. Silvermoon vented deeply and knocked on the door. When she got no reply she frowned. Opening the door, she peered inside and saw Prowl, deep in recharge, at his desk. His servo was on top of a data pad that he'd been working on before he'd gone into stasis. She smiled and entered, closing the door behind her. The room was mostly dark, some early morning light filtering in through the window. The data pad also gave off some light. She pulled it out form under his servo and went to shut it off, when a miscalculation made her frown.

She edited the mistake and hesitated for a second, before plowing on to finish off the rest of the number problems. Setting down the now completed data pad, she heard Prowl's systems start humming, signaling he was onlining.

His scanners indicated that there was a Cybertronian energy signature next to him, and groggily he unspaced an acid pellet gun and aimed it at the bot. A startled yelp drew his processor completely online. "Silvermoon?" he asked. She looked at him from where she had fallen onto the floor from surprise. "Sorry," he said, subspacing the gun and helping her up. "How'd you find my office?"

"Jazz," she said simply.

"Ah. So, can I help you with something?"

"Actually, yes. After I heard your stories of Megatron's deeds yesterday, I want to become an Autobot," she stated. He started at her for an astro-second in shock.

"That's great!" he exclaimed. He shuffled through his data pads, trying to find a certain one. His servo accidentally hit one, onlining it. He frowned at it, confused. "I could've sworn I hadn't finished that last night," he mumbled. A sheepish smile from Silvermoon caught his optics. "Did you do this?" She nodded.

He thought about it for a moment, then continued searching for the pad.


Author's Note: Yay, chapter 5 is done! Now we can move onto the traitor(s) and the romance! :)