Chapter 1

As they reached the invisible line of the Autobot Embassy territory a tall white figure stepped out of the doorway pausing to watch them with a sweet smile on his sweet face. "Hello, Senator Hoxley. I'm so happy you could come and bring so many of yourcolleagues."

"Hello, Ambassador Ratchet. I'm so terribly delighted to be here."

Ratchet smiled at the human delegation as he knelt, moving closer to eye level. Some of them were mesmerized; some were clearly unnerved while others were delighted.

Graham and Lennox were slightly amused and stood to one side allowing Fulton to do most of the honors. They were all introduced and re-introduced to each other. When that was over Ratchet told them how they could proceed in their walk through the Embassy.

"I want you to know that everyone in the building who's an Autobot have put their proximity sensors on full range scan so that you'll be safe from being trod upon. I hope you stay together as a group and that you ask the questions that are on your minds. I will answer all that I'm allowed and find others who can help if I cannot. I will also use American English throughout and hope that you ask me to clarify if something isn't clear. We'll show you all that we can. Understand that this is on of the most secret bases on Earth. What we can't show or tell is either classified or falls into the realm of privacy considerations making it therefore off limits." He rose up and smiled. "If you will follow me please."

Ratchet turned to walk inside, pausing beside doors for the others to catch up. He looked around noting a number of mechs sitting around relaxing at tables here and there. "This is our recreation room. We eat here and spend time relaxing together off shift. It's the first room that anyone sees when they come here and the doors to it are usually left open day and night depending on circumstances and the weather. Nearly every Autobot outpost you would ever see anywhere is based on this pattern."

The mechs inside looked at the newcomers, watching them as they walked past, their eyes roaming here and there as they took in the over sized world of the bots. Bluestreak who was walking into the room slowed, then smiled as he stepped to one side to watch.

Hoxley spotting him glanced up at Ratchet. "Who is this person, Ambassador?"

Ratchet spied the youngster then gestured him to come forward. He did, halting beside Ratchet to look down with interest. "This is Bluestreak. He's the youngling … the son... of Prowl, our Second-In-Command of the Autobot Armed Forces."

Blue knelt down to look at the humans with bright blue optics. "Welcome."

"We're very pleased to meet you," Hoxley said holding out her hand.

Bluestreak smiled, then held out his servo.

Hoxley took a hold of a digit to pat Blue. "I wish I could tell you how much I have looked forward to meeting more of you beyond just the Ambassador and his escort. I'm so interested in meeting as many of you as possible so I can tell our people about yours. It is just so exciting to be here and see all of you."

"We're happy you're here," Bluestreak said. "We enjoy the company of humans and the soldiers are amazing. They're so small but they don't hold back when they fight."

"Our soldiers only have positive things to say about you," Andrea Hoxley replied pointedly and it was true. Even in private interviews, the N.E.S.T. soldiers spoke of the bots with glowing words.

They chatted a moment then Ratchet gestured them to follow as the entire group walked toward Ops Center. They entered, walking together along the length of the room as they watched the mechs at stations on shift. The bots glanced at them before turning back to the stations. A small console sitting on top of another was manned by two humans. They were there to coordinate human satellite intelligence and to liaison between the two HQ's.

"This is our command center and it's manned day and night." Ratchet looked down. "If you would permit me to lift you to the center table we can explain what you see around you much better."

Hoxley nodded as Ratchet knelt to place both of his servos down on the ground. Hoxley hesitated, then walked forward to sit down on Ratchet's hand. Fulton and Lennox took the other hand for the ride up as Ratchet raised them easily, turning to gently place them on the table. Turning back with a smile at the others, Ratchet lifted them up in ones and twos until all were on the tabletop.

Even Brinks and Weaver were impressed. They stood together listening to Ratchet explain the stations and the mechs who were working there.

Prowl working nearby watched them out of the corner of his optics admiring the skill Ratchet brought to the task before him. He'd always been their diplomat. The gangling medico with the temper was a tactful patient negotiator and representative, relieving both Prime and himself of a lot of endless chitchat and hair splitting, neither of which Prowl was good at or Optimus interested in pursuing.

"And you may remember Prowl, our Second-In-Command of the Armed Forces and our Prime's right servo mech," Ratchet said finally getting to the taciturn yet comely winger standing by Teletraan II.

Prowl turned toward them to nod, his beauty complimentary to his dignity and calm manner. He walked over to stand beside Ratchet staring at them with an unruffled expression.

"I am happy to see all of you here. You are welcome at our Embassy," Prowl said quietly.

They began to ask questions of Prowl, relieving Ratchet for a moment of the burden of sifting through classified and non-classified informational requests. It also gave him time to study Weaver, this person who in a peripheral way was partly responsible for Ironhide's near death in Denver.

Weaver was a relatively tall man, thin and slightly balding. He took great care in his appearance. His clothing was expensive, even in his casual dress at this moment and his tan had little to do with sun exposure. He was alert as his eyes roved the room searching out this and that, lingering on each Autobot in turn. As he stood there looking around ,asking a question now and again, the shift changed.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe entered to do their turns at communications and the mainframe. They were strikingly beautiful and everyone paused their conversations to look at them as they passed by. They both grinned, nodding to Ratchet who smirked and nodded back. They exchanged places with Trailbreaker and Smokescreen then plugged directly into the consoles drawing a startled expression from the visitors.

"We plug directly into the consoles to expedite information," Ratchet said smiling at the stunned expressions of the senators. They'd seen the others sitting this way but somehow the idea that they plugged themselves directly into the machinery had escaped them.

Brinks turned to Ratchet. "You plug into machines? Yet you say you aren't machines."

"We aren't. We're mechanical in make up but we aren't machines. If we were we wouldn't need to plug in, would we? Plugging in makes it quicker and easier to communicate and do work more efficiently. Think of it as headphones."

Brinks considered that but Ratchet could tell he wasn't mollified.

"Who are the two that just came in?" Weaver asked.

"Those two are Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. I'm surprised you don't recognize them," Ratchet said watching as Prowl bristled but kept it off his face.

"What do you mean?" Weaver asked turning toward the medic.

"Those are two of the three mechs you had on one of your contraband pictures you showed to the world in one of the hearings. You displayed contraband pictures of them and another mech, the one you saw in the rec room, Bluestreak."

The group looked at Weaver who was staring at the two at their stations. "Those are the Lamborghinis? The two who came to the barracks to attack Johnson and Hedges?"

"No. Those are the two that went to speak to Johnson and Hedges about the soldiers slandering us," Ratchet said.

Prowl stared at Weaver, his optics narrowing as he waited for who knew what. His wings were taut and high on his back. He looked like he was going to slap them into the next dimension. Of course, no one who didn't know Prowl could see it but Ratchet knew the tells.

Behind them listening to the conversation the two Lambos turned toward the group, fixing them with fierce optics.

:Do you want me to thrash that little fragger?: Sunstreaker asked Ratchet internally.

:If anyone slags the little fragger it'll be me. But thanks anyway, Sunny: Ratchet replied.

:No. I will: Prowl interjected.

The two Lambos grinned then turned back to their stations.

"We already determined that there was no attack," Lennox said. "The film showed that they were lying. I'm surprised you brought it up."

Weaver looked at Lennox adding nothing more to the subject than an irritated expression.

Ratchet who was grinning with amusement asked for more questions and got them, most thoughtful and designed to understand what was going on around them. Most had to do with how the Center dealt with the Decepticon threat and by the time a half hour had passed they were all on the floor headed for Med Bay.

It would be a long afternoon.

-0-Ironhide

He'd watched them come from a respectful distance as he sat on a box of machine parts stacked to go to Mars near the airfield. A blanket was laid on the tarmac and Orion was sitting on it, his glyph ball in his little servos. He was singing to himself, an incomprehensible gathering of clicks, chirps and whirring sounds. To anyone else they were odd gibberish but to Ironhide they were songs straight from Primus. They were threads of a great love for the tiny being weaving into his spark which he thought only had room for Ratchet.

The little black sparkling sat on the tarmac sheltered in the shade of an Aerialbot who was admiring him and telling Ironhide so. That little sparkling was the greatest personal achievement of his father's existence beyond the bond that had made him the happiest he had ever felt in a lifetime of hardship, suffering, war and loss.

They'd been teased and sassed, the two of them when they bonded but anyone who had known them well wasn't surprised. Ratchet was fun-loving and smart, filled with outgoing joie de vivre that eons of war and suffering had only dampened, not destroyed. Ironhide was confident, smart, more cultured and cultivated than he let on as a beloved son from a wealthy and powerful family background. He was filled with an aggressive adventurism that more than met its match in Ratchet. Between them they'd become legend, pranksters, gifted soldiers and sports.

Now they'd expressed their companionship in the best way, the most important way. They had created a sparkling that not only would be them going forward into the future but also their people as well. To Ironhide it was a win-win. He was without a doubt in his spark the luckiest mech on this or any other planet anywhere.

Looking at his sparkling, he grinned. He was a handsome little slagger, Ironhide thought as he watched the tiny infant who looked up at him with a grin on his little face. Ratchet was right. Ironhide grinned and shook his head. When wasn't he?