DISCLAIMERS: I don't own Transformers. They just came over from Hasbro to visit and be general pains-in-the-aft. All the humans in the story are mine, as are Steelshot and Sola. Rating is T for now, may go up at anytime.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: These stories are character sketches I'm writing to get a feel for some of the NPCs in a Mechamorphosis game I'm creating. I started this to give myself some back-story and origins to the characters in my other Encounter fics. I'm following one of the tables from the 100situations challenge on LJ, which I'm planning on registering for real soon. As soon as I can figure out how to link that table… headdesk.

Special thanks go out to Okami-chan for beta reading these for me and finding my typos and grammar errors.

#96 – Writer's Choice – Exile

Once Ratchet had cleaned off all the paint and calmed down somewhat, having put Bluestreak and Sideswipe to work cleaning up the mess, he joined Aegis in the "command center." The command center, as they jokingly called it, was just another dusty room at the end of the hall. The difference was it still had some furniture in usable shape.

They settled down into the least broken chairs and Aegis made introductions. "Ratchet, I'd like you to meet my Guild brother, Prowl." Aegis indicated the white and black mech with him. "Prowl, this is Ratchet, one of my oldest friends."

Prowl nodded politely in greeting. "Aegis has spoken highly of you, Scientist Ratchet."

"Just Ratchet is fine. I don't go for formal titles, as I'm sure Aegis has mentioned as well." Ratchet nodded his greeting back.

Aegis got down to business. "Alright, with the kids busy, we can discuss what we came here for."

"What is it, Aegis? You said you needed my expertise," Ratchet inquired.

"Prowl and I have been discussing a few things about this movement. Prowl?"

Prowl nodded to Aegis and turned so he was facing them both. "As despicable as our Tyrant rulers are, they are also cautious and thorough," he paused, glancing from one mech to the other.

Ratchet tilted his head, optics narrowing. He didn't see what Prowl was getting at. He crossed his arms in annoyance. "Meaning?" He prompted.

"Meaning that if we haven't been infiltrated yet, we certainly will be. And once enough evidence is gathered or created against us, we will be captured and put to death in the Arena," Prowl responded.

Stunned, Ratchet stared at him. "Nexus…"

Prowl nodded grimly. "It would be especially bad for the 'kids' as Aegis calls them. And us, as the leaders."

Ratchet turned to Aegis, annoyed and confused. "And you needed my expertise for this?"

"No Ratchet, I need your expertise for a contingency plan." Aegis was grim as well.

"What sort of plan?" Ratchet demanded of him. If Aegis had dragged him into this just to scare the scrap out of him… But he couldn't blame this one on his friend. He had walked into this with all scanners on full the moment he let those gladiators in. Not that he could have turned away a mech in need.

Prowl answered instead. "You are the top medical mechanic on Mecha Terra, and a highly respected scientist. You have friends and colleagues in your guild and associated guilds that would perhaps feel the same as we do and are trustworthy. We'll need to tap their processing power and their expertise to make this work."

"Once we are infiltrated, nowhere on Mecha Terra will be safe for us. Therefore, to preserve ourselves, we must find a place that is," Aegis added.

Ratchet mulled this over. "You mean go into exile, like the Animechs did, when the Tyrants first come into power." The Animech Guild had been the most vocal against granting the Tyrants the uncontested leadership role they now enjoyed. Outvoted by the other Guilds, they had left Mecha Terra, never to be seen again.

"Exactly." Prowl smiled, pleased that Ratchet was able to grasp the solution so quickly.

"And you need me to recruit some of my colleagues to get the ships built," Ratchet concluded.

"Yes. We are starting this early, to hopefully preserve what secrecy we hope we still enjoy. The later we leave it, the greater chance for discovery and sabotage." Aegis leaned forward, clasping his hands before him. Ratchet had never seen his friend looking so stern.

"Yes, then all us exiles will be Arena fodder," Ratchet groused.

"Yes. And that is probably an accurate name for our group. Seeing as we come from a wide variety of Guilds and backgrounds." Prowl looked thoughtful.

"What is an accurate name, Prowl?" Aegis inquired as Ratchet looked at white and black mech curiously.

"The Exiles."