Cheetor stirred from his slumber. Would he ever truly get used to this feeling, he wondered. His now semi-organic body meant that instead of just shutting down most of his systems for an hour or two whilst he recharged he was now forced to almost 'sleep' as his organic systems needed replenishing with more than just energon. There was also that short period when he came to when he couldn't remember where he was or what he was supposed to be doing. He checked his data store; there was definitely something he was supposed to be... slag. He was meant to be at the council chambers in less than 10 cycles. Just what he needed, to get into the same arguments with the council elders as he had done countless times before since the re-growth of plant life on Cybertron. There were still those who believed that the spread of organic life on the planet should be reduced, if not stopped completely. This feeling was supported extremely strongly by many groups, mostly within the Predacon camps. Damn them, he thought. We've had enough problems with them; we should ship them off the planet, or at least improve their own ability to keep track of their own. Look what happened when Megatron had decided that he didn't like things the way things were run. He transformed into beast mode and quickly ran off towards the council chambers. Recently they had been moved the secret chamber within the old city of Iacon, the former city where Optimus Prime had led the Autobot resistance against the Decepticons during the Cybertronian Wars. This, again, was a move that many of the Predacon representatives had been against. 'Why should the council chambers be in Iacon, why couldn't they be somewhere more neutral?' Natural enough at first thought. But everything was already there, including an area where the council was able to meet undisturbed away from prying sensors and, most importantly, who would look for them there?

            Cheetor approached the city. Before him the huge rounded dome of Iacon could be seen for miles around and in front of that, before the doors were reached, a full size statue of Optimus Prime, the hero of Cybertron, looked down upon all those who came near. Cheetor transformed back into robot mode as he approached the doors, and they slid apart before him. The height of the rooms was enormous as they used to be able to contain the giant robots that they had once been. It was now used primarily as a relic and a walk in memorial to those who had died during the Great War. What was in the lowest level, however, was a secret meeting area where the Maximal Elders Council met when they had important matters to discuss and didn't wish to be overheard. As he moved forward towards the lift that would take him to the lowest level and the council chambers he heard a voice call his name. He looked behind him and he saw the Predacon representative running towards him. Damn it, he thought, just what I needed. He turned and showed him a false smile. "Representative Night-stalker, greetings".

Night-stalker, quite large for a Predacon though still smaller than Cheetor, always gave the impression of disdain for everyone. Whether this was accidental or he actually believed he was better than everyone Cheetor was never sure, his glowing purple optics never gave any hint of what he was thinking. He had also got himself embroiled in many an argument with the Predacon representative.

"Good day to you. Are you headed to the meeting with the Maximal Elders Council?" Asked Night-stalker in his characteristically smooth manner. You know full well I am thought Cheetor, but he needed to at least maintain the precept of friendship, at least whilst he was in the main chamber.

"Yes" he answered.

"Really, well according to my chronometer you're a little late aren't you?" Cheetor could feel the rage building inside of him. This Predacon was purposefully annoying him, and judging by what he could see of his smile (as most of his lower face was covered by a semi-transparent faceplate) he seemed to be enjoying this.

"Well you seem to be headed to the same place, so if I'm late you must be also". Finally, he thought, I've got one up on him at last.

"Yes you're quite correct, I am late" replied Night-stalker "because I was waiting for you, I was hoping for another of our...interesting conversations?" Cheetor felt like ripping Night-stalkers audio's out, then he would see how much he would enjoy their conversation but was stopped by the tour group which was passing by not too far from where they stood. A Maximal tour guide walked ahead of a small group of young Maximals and Predacons as he described to them what Iacon had been like before and during the Great War. He also noticed that the two Predacons in the group were stood at the back talking to themselves completely ignoring everything the guide was telling them. This was the problem with the Predacons, no thought of history and not making the same mistakes. Instead they were still aggressive and adversarial and he would be sure to make that clear to the council again when he finally got down there.

            Night-stalker also noticed the group nearby. He turned to look at them. Disgusting, he thought. Two Predacons being dragged around by a group of Maximals. He felt sorry for them. They would be brainwashed by the Maximals to believe that all of Cybertron's problems, past and current, were because of them. Even the way that they had been segregated on the tour, having to follow on at the back of the group merely underlined the fact that the Maximals treated them as nothing more than second-class citizens. Even the council never had more than three Predacons within its main chamber, and when these secret sessions were held only he was allowed access. Again he would try and make the council see reason. Memorials to history were all well and good but there were no memorials of his ancestors, only theirs. There were none of their former cities still used but here they were inside Iacon, one of the largest of the Autobot cities where countless military actions were planned against his ancestors and in front of him were two of his brethren being told of the Autobot heroes, with no consideration of their ancestors. It disgusted him.

            The lift arrived and the doors slid back. Both Cheetor and Night-stalker walked in. As the doors closed behind them Night-stalker turned to Cheetor and asked, "Do you enjoy the fact that you are better than us?"

"I don't know what you mean" replied Cheetor "Council chambers". A computerised voice came over the intercom. "Clearance code".

"C7 412 gamma" replied Cheetor. The lift immediately began to descend.

"Don't play coy with me" said Night-stalker "we both know that the Maximals are the rulers of Cybertron and that the Predacons are merely here because you don't know what to do with us". The anger began to rise in Cheetor again. It wouldn't have been so bad but the cool, calm way that Night-stalker spoke, as if trying to entice some helpless animal into a trap, infuriated him.

"You know as well as I do that all Predacons have the same rights as any Maximal".

"Really, well that does interest me" answered Night-stalker "as I always got the impression that the council didn't trust us". "Don't be ridiculous, if they didn't trust you wouldn't be allowed to enter the main chamber let alone this chamber!"

"True enough" replied Night-stalker, his head nodding slightly. "But then there is only one of us and many of you" he added. As it should be, thought Cheetor. He couldn't imagine a world where the Predacons had control. No, worse in fact, he had been to one. Not that long ago when Megatron had had control over the planet, and it was for that reason he was happy that the Maximals were again in control.

"Yes, but then no Maximals are allowed entrance to any of the Predacon councils at all".

"Predacon councils?" Night-stalker asked inquisitively. "There are no Predacon councils".

"Oh come off it," shouted Cheetor, finally starting to lose his temper. "No Predacon councils! You must think I was only created yesterday. We all know that the Predacons are made up of small groups each of which have they're own councils and each of which are in a constant power struggle with themselves. You couldn't run the planetary affairs or if you did you would most likely destroy us all!" An even larger smile drew across Night-stalkers face.

"Thank you for that amazing insight into the Maximal mind" Cheetor felt angry, shamed and embarrassed all at once. He had let his personal feelings come to the fore and had given Night-stalker exactly what he wanted. Damn him, he thought. Of all the Predacon representatives why did the Elders always seem to allow him everywhere? And why was he nearly always so foolish as to allow him to affect him in such a way. Damn him, he thought again.

            The journey in the lift took a long time. Nearly as long as it had taken Cheetor to get to Iacon in the first place. And all the while Night-stalker stood beside him, staring at him intermittently with his glowing purple optics that seemed to bore deep into his very spark. Eventually the lift doors parted and they both walked out. There was a short corridor leading to a large set of double doors. As they approached a computer voice chimed out "please state clearance codes for secure entry". Cheetor stepped forward and answered

"C7 412 gamma". There was a short pause and the computer replied

"Incorrect entry code, please state codes for secure entry". Cheetor was taken aback. His code had worked in the lift, why not here. Beside him he could hear Night-stalker chuckling. He was making a poor job of attempting to hide his amusement. Cheetor turned on him and said angrily

 "What by the pit are you laughing at?" Night-stalker turned and calmly replied

"Oh I'm sorry, I suppose it's not really that funny. But then it does seem a little strange that you, one of the...ruling classes, for want of a better expression, can't enter the council chambers and yet myself, someone who couldn't run planetary affairs without killing us all, can" Cheetor grimaced as Night-stalker turned and said calmly to the computer "entry code N7 666 delta" The computer replied, almost as calmly and annoyingly

"Code confirmed" The doors slid open to reveal a huge room with a circular table with spaces for all the delegates. There was a small gap at one end allowing entry to the centre of the table and a holographic imaging disc in the centre of the gap. This slightly raised platform could also be used for someone to stand upon should all the council members wish to 'interrogate' an individual. Cheetor hated this room and after he had first become a technorganic he remembered being stood there often as he tried to explain Cybertron's organic history. Few of the members had enjoyed listening to that, and some still didn't believe that it was true even with the fact that plant life now covered a third of the planet's surface. As Cheetor looked around the dimly lit room he noticed that all the spaces, except the two in which he and Night-stalker were meant to use, were already filled. As he walked towards his position he heard one of the delegates say

"Now that you have finally arrived, we may begin" Cheetor sat. He thanked Primus that Night-stalker was sat at the opposite side of the table; he really didn't want to be sat next to him. The holographic generator in the centre of the room came to life and showed an image of Cybertron, as it did so one of the Council members began to speak.

"As you are all aware organic life has been spreading throughout the surface of our planet" As he spoke the image changed and greenish splodges began to spread across the image in the centre of the room. "This growth, though welcomed by many, has begun to cause many problems not least to the supply of energon to the third district" Whilst he said this the hologram seemed to zoom in on an area which was teeming with organic life. As the image moved closer individual buildings could be made out on the surface of the planet. The voice continued. "The roots, which the plants require for survival, have been tapping into the energy conduits which supply the city with power. However this is not the only problem. The roots have also begun to undermine the building supports. This has meant that much material has been used in order to strengthen the buildings against collapse as well as using up valuable energy resources. We are here today to discuss the matter of organic life on this planet. How should it be controlled? Should it be controlled? Or should we merely eradicate the organic life on this planet and return the planet to its former state?"

"What!" Cried Cheetor. "You can't be seriously considering the eradication of ALL organic life?"

"That is one of the options available to us," said the voice. "However, the reason we are here is to allow us to decide which of these ways forward is most appropriate or if we should try and make a compromise between them".

"But all organic life? What about those like myself who are semi-organic? We have organic components. Would you destroy us too?" For the first time Cheetor was beginning to have doubts about the councils decisions. He had fought with them before, especially during these last decacycles, and had not always agreed with their decisions but he had always felt that they were trying to make the right decisions for the planet and its people. However, to wipe out everything and then act as if it had never happened? This, he felt was extremely wrong.

"We understood that this decision would provoke differing perspectives and it was for this reason that we have allowed you access to this meeting," said the voice. Cheetor was still unsure as to which of the council members it was who was speaking because of the subdued lighting. "To answer your question, no. We would not destroy the individuals that would be affected. Of course minor alterations to remove and replace their organic components would be required in order to standardise them but their exclusion would not be required". A second voice, this time much closer to Cheetor and older sounding, began to speak.

"I have been considering becoming a technorganic myself at some point in the not too distant future as I believe that this will be the future of our race. However, I do feel that limited control over the spread of the organic life over the planet is required. Perhaps some form of poison to move it away from the cities?"

"But what if the poison spreads to the energon supply?" asked another. "Would it have any affect on any of us? Or would it only affect organics? If so would it not also affect technorganics?"

"Perhaps, for the time being at least, we should stop the modification of citizens to technorganics? At least until we have a clearer picture of what this will do to our bodies in the long term?"

"Should we even become technorganics?" This voice Cheetor clearly recognised. It's smooth, almost callous disregard for the subject and to those he was talking too could hardly be mistaken.

"What is your point representative Night-stalker?"

"Well, as I said, should we become technorganics? As far as I can ascertain we expend precious energon resources into modifying our bodies using some form of 'goo'. We then become these technorganics but as far as I can see this provides us with no clear advantages"

"You mean apart from the fact that we would become much closer to our own planet and it would provide us with a possible new direction for our evolution" answered Cheetor.

"I don't feel that this would provide us with any new direction for our evolution. If anything I would see it making us much weaker than we are at present. What form of evolution would do that?"

"You just mean that it might change weapon technology, you have no real concern about what would happen to us all. And when you say us do you mean all of us, do you mean everyone? Or just your Predacon cronies?" Shouted Cheetor.

"I mean everyone. Do you?" Answered Night-stalker sneeringly. "And I would rather that you didn't describe my associates as cronies".

"Enough of this bickering" said one of the elders. "Unless either of you has something helpful to add to this debate then I recommend you both remain quiet".

            The debate, or argument, as to what should happen to organic life on the planet seemed, to Cheetor, to continue for many a megacycle. However, about halfway through this Cheetor noticed a small light blink on in front of one the elders. He also noticed that he began to talk in hushed tones into some form of communicator. He watched him for a long time until he was disturbed by a question from another of the elders.

"Cheetor!" Snapped someone. Still Cheetor was unable to fully work out who was talking at any time, but he was able to look over in the general direction of the voice.

"Yes" he answered.

"If you wish to defend organic life on this planet, than I would recommend that you say something fitting soon". Cheetor almost felt like that was a threat, but he had to defend organic life, though it made him feel very uncomfortable. Why should he have to defend these changes? Surely they should have to give a reason to stop them not him give reasons to allow it to happen?

"If this was the original state of the planet, then surely it makes sense to allow it to return to this state".

"True enough" again it was Night-stalker. Why, thought Cheetor, was it always him who would try and poke a hole in his arguments? "But the operative word that you used was 'if'. There is no proof of this, apart from your argument".

"This was shown to us by the oracle and..."

"Of course the oracle. It also handily showed you this when we were all unable to see it. But wait. It didn't show YOU it at all did it? In fact I believe it showed one Optimus Primal" Cheetor was again beginning to feel flustered. Of course he had to tell them that it was Primal who saw the visions, not himself, but he had never thought that that would now be used against him. "And, though you tell us now that this technological/organic mixture is good I feel I have to ask, when you first heard of it were you in favour of it? And if not, why do you now feel that it would be in the best interest of us all?" Cheetor felt stunned. How did Night-stalker know that he hadn't been in favour of becoming a technorganic? And why did he wait until now to bring it up?

"What makes you believe that I haven't always been in favour of this merging?" Cheetor asked as innocently sounding as he could.

"I heard it from reliable sources" replied Night-stalker sneeringly.

"Really, would you mind telling us who those 'reliable sources' are?" Cheetor continued.

"Yes," said one of the elders. "These 'sources' may become valuable if they can gain this form of information". This form of information? Again Cheetor felt that perhaps the council was trying to hide things from the populace.

"I'm afraid I couldn't give you the identities of my sources. They wish to remain... anonymous" replied Night-stalker. He was clearly enjoying the fact that he had seemingly made an impact, not just on Cheetor, but even some of the elders seemed to be concerned.

"Perhaps then" began another of the councillors. "You would at least tell us what else these 'reliable sources' have told you?" "I'm afraid not at this time" replied Night-stalker. "I'm sure you understand my need for... reservation in relaying too much information as it may lead you to my sources".

"If you won't tell us what you know, or who they are how do we know that they are reliable?" asked the elder.

"Because they are reliable sources" Night-stalker's almost childish response made Cheetor feel like laughing, but there was just something in the way he said it that unnerved him. At that moment an alarm sounded in front of one of the elders. After a few cycles the elder looked up.

"My apologies for the interruption" Cheetor could hear a twinge of concern in his voice, however he was staring at Night-stalker. He could see that a small communicator had been activated on his right arm and he was listening and talking into it. The elder continued, "I'm afraid that this meeting may have to adjourn until a later date. A large metallic 'craft' has been detected on a direct course for Cybertron. In fact, if our information is judged to be accurate it will reach Cybertronian airspace within just over 1 mega-cycle". Immediately all of the councillors began speaking at once.

"What is it?" asked one.

"Does it pose a threat?" asked another.

"If you would all mind quietening down a little," said the first elder. "Our information is sketchy at best, but as far as we have been able to ascertain it is a large craft constructed from a Cybertronian alloy and that it is in powered flight towards us. Other than that we know nothing conclusive at this time" At this point Night-stalker spoke.

"You're not telling us everything are you counsellor".

"I don't know what you mean," replied the elder.

"Really, well that's interesting because I heard that it seems to be slowing down".

"How did you...?" Cheetor thought he heard concern in the elder's voice. He also felt that what Night-stalker had said was the truth and that again the council was keeping secrets, but now from itself. What was going on here? "We have no information about that at this time. However any information that you may 'think' you have would be greatly received". The elder's composure had returned and he was now trying to find out how much Night-stalker knew.

"Well if my information is inaccurate, I feel that I need not tell you anymore as it might merely make you make incorrect decisions which would effect us all, and I wouldn't want that on my conscience now would I" Again Night-stalker appeared to have the upper hand. Before anyone could respond to what he had just said he then continued, "Well if this meeting is over, I think I will head over to the southern continent where I should be able to see the smaller craft that has already left the larger one. Anyone else want to join me?" At that he got up and started to walk towards the lift entrance. Immediately some of the other councillors began arguing amongst themselves, whilst others got up to follow Night-stalker out of the chamber. Cheetor also got up and moved towards the door. He was trying to avoid contact with any of the councillors. What he had listened to in the meeting had made him begin to question the loyalties of those who led them and also showed him quite how narrow-minded some of them were. Ahead of him he could see Night-stalker move into the waiting lift, its internal lights so much brighter than those in the room. He was finally able to see the delegates properly. So many faces he had grown to trust, to respect. Could he ever bring himself to completely trust them again? So, he thought, this is how a Predacon thinks.

            He moved quickly through the crowd and only just made it into the lift before the doors slid shut behind. The long trip was made in relative silence. Obviously no one wanted Night-stalker to know what they were thinking about, or perhaps they didn't want anyone to know. As the doors opened they all started to move towards the waiting transports. They were built using the former 'tube' network that riddled Cybertron from before the Great War, though of course the cars had been redesigned to accommodate the smaller Maximals and Predacons. As he entered one of the of the waiting cars he looked around, and to his surprise Night-stalker was nowhere to be seen. He had expected him to move over to him and start another annoying conversation. However, some of the things that Night-stalker had said in the Council chambers had given him cause for concern, as well as perking his interest. How had he known about how Cheetor had formally felt about becoming a technorganic, especially as the Council had deemed this information classified? Why, also, had the Council deemed it classified? Also, how did he seem to know about this, whatever it was, currently heading towards the planet? And who was he communicating with during the meeting?

            All these questions kept him occupied throughout the journey to Mechacity. Mechacity, Cheetor was always impressed whenever he came here. It was one of the last cities to be built before organic life was reintroduced to Cybertron. It was also one of the largest on the planet. The central dome of the city measured more than 250 floors up and another 200 underground. Its immense structure was about as large as Iacon and was the capital city and pride of the third district. Sadly, rather than trying to adapt the area to cope with the growth of organic life they preferred to eradicate it, though to his optics the huge variation of plant life in the area merely added to its beauty. As he stepped out of the transport, which had dropped them off outside the city limits, he was greeted by the sight of the city in the background. It was at that point that he noticed that the whole area around him was crowded with Maximals and Predacons, and more continued to arrive in other transports behind him, as well as many moving into the area in vehicle and beast modes. It seemed that the news that the Council wanted to keep secret wasn't going to remain so. He looked up and his jaw dropped. Above him a huge metallic craft was looming over them. It was still too far away to make out the markings that were on the base of two immense wings, but it was the sheer size of it that took him aback, and it was still getting closer. He looked around him to see if there was anyone around that he recognised. There were a few council members who had been in the meeting with him, though they seemed to be clustered together, probably discussing something that they didn't want anyone else to know about. He continued to look around. Behind him he noticed the tour guide that had been guiding others around Iacon when he had arrived. He could hear the shuttle now and he saw that the guide was trying to discern the markings, had it got that close already? He looked up again and sure enough it was almost on top of them. It had also almost reached a full stop just slightly higher than the central dome. He was looking at the two large purple insignia on the base of the craft when he heard a voice behind him. Turning he saw the guide shaking his head and backing away muttering over and over

"No... No...It's not possible! No" Cheetor turned and said

"What is it?" Again the guide muttered

"It's not possible, it can't be" Another voice shouted out

"Look, its opening".

"No" Cried the guide and then screamed at the top of his vocaliser "Everybody, RUN!" Cheetor looked up to see what it was that had caused the guide so much panic and he saw a huge shadow in the open hatch. Then a booming, emotionless, metallic voice commanded

"Decepticons, ATTACK!"