Chapter 2: Meetings and Rejections

All Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. I only own Zettabyte.

[ha]-when the bots are talking through comms Servo(s)-hand(s) Bi-pedal mode-robot form

{ha}-when Agent Fowler is talking to them via communications Helm-Head

[Ha]-when Bumblebee is talking Pede(s)-Foot/Feet Alt. mode- vehicle form

Ha-thoughts Processor-Brain Scum bucket-scumbag

In Nevada, on the outskirts of a small town called Jasper, a hidden base that was usually full of noisy laughter and tomfoolery was currently quiet and peaceful, much to the delight of one lone Autobot medic.

Ratchet hummed as he stared at the monitors. He finally had some alone time. The children had been taken home early as their parents (host parents in Miko's case) wanted them in early since it was a school night. The other bots were no doubt on patrol, looking out for Decepticon activity. Optimus was yet in another conference with Agent Fowler and his superiors.

"Finally, a chance to get some work done without having my audios blown off by that irritating noise," Ratchet commented to himself, referring to Miko's guitar playing.

Honestly! Didn't the girl know that his work was vital to the survival of the team? Of course no matter how many times the medic urged her guardian to try to correct her behavior, it just ended with the Wrecker joining in on her "fun."

"Of course he wouldn't reprimand her. Why would he when he's just as reckless as her!?" he vented, started to feel intense irritation coming on, unaware that he was squeezing the heck out of one of the wrenches he was organizing.

Ratchet's ire halted when he heard the low groan of compressing metal in his clenching fist. He looked down to see that the handle of the wrench was now slightly dented. Sighing in aggravation, he put the tool down and began doing the Cybertronian equivalent of rubbing his "temples."

It wasn't that he hated the children. In fact, he found their presence slightly endearing, especially Raf's (not that he would ever admit that). He just wished that they would take the war more seriously. Yes, it sounded selfish considering that this wasn't their war to fight but he wished that they would understand that their guardians couldn't always be their playmates. Feeling the last remnants of his helm-ache start to wane he took deep vents, inhaling and exhaling.

Relax Ratchet, he told himself inwardly, Getting upset is not an option. Think positive; the kids are gone, the team is out, you have the base to yourself and more quiet time than you've had in the last several metacycles. It won't do you any good to ruin it by thinking of the past. Just calm do-"

He was unable to finish his thought as the screen went off with loud pings.

"MOTHERBOARD FRAGGER!" the Autobot medic roared.

Looking up at the console in aggravation he expected to see one of one of the others bots, his leader, or Agent Fowler calling in or perhaps a Decepticon signal on the move. But what he saw shocked him with an emotion crossed between apprehension and excitement. On the screen showed the incoming signal of a ship and not just any ship. A Cybertronian pod, a vessel only capable of holding one bot.

The computer was unable to designate whether it was of Autobot or Decepticon origin but it did show that it was driving in a straight line, a sign that it was in autopilot and that whoever was inside was either in stasis or incapable of handling of the pod's control panels. After analyzing the data, Ratchet immediately activated his comm to Arcee.

Speaking in an urgent tone, the medic asked, "Arcee do you read me?"

The femme immediately responded in a tone full of urgent concern, [Ratchet, what's wrong?]

"The computer scanners just picked up an incoming vessel," Ratchet answered seriously.

[WHAT?!]

Ratchet could easily hear the Wrecker and scout. He had guessed that they had been listening through their own comms.

Ratchet continued, "It'll be landing, I estimate, by tonight somewhere on the outskirts of the town. The scanner can't tell if it's friend or foe. After your patrol, return to base immediately and wait for further instructions from Optimus. I'll see you three back soon. Comm me when you're ready to be bridged."

[Alright,] Arcee agreed before she and their other two teammates turned their comms off.

No sooner had Ratchet returned to the computer did he hear the oncoming engine of a truck. He turned around in time to see his leader just finish transforming out of his vehicle form and into his robot form.

"Optimus I'm glad you're here. The scanners picked up an unknown Cybertronian pod just nano-kliks before you returned." Ratchet spoke immediately.

"Have you alerted the others?" Optimus questioned, his voice holding a tone of serious interest but his expression never wavered.

Nodding, Ratchet answered, "Yes just a few sec-, I mean, astroseconds ago."

Darn those kids for rubbing off their language for time on him.

"Thank you, old friend. We'll need to call them back immediately just as a caution. If this new Cybertronian is a friend, we must prepare space for them to join us. But if it's a foe, we must apprehend them to keep them from harming the humans or uniting with their Decepticon brethren."

Ratchet obeyed his Prime without hesitance.

Four Earth hours later on the outskirts of the Nevada Desert

"Well that landing could have been less…dramatic," Zettabyte grumbled as he stumbled out of the now partially dented and cracked escape pod.

The moment the pod had entered the planet's atmosphere, it had been far from a smooth landing. The pod had rocked and lurched as though something heavy was trying to shake it down. And it didn't help that Zetta's helm had been so fraggin close to the window which was composed of the hardest glass on Cybertron. Needless to say, it was a miracle that the ruby and sapphire mechling hadn't attained any critical processor trauma. But SLAG did he have a helm ache.

Once the ship had landed, it had ceased its wild shaking. A few nano-kliks had passed until Zettabyte's vision no longer consisted of a spinning sky and he was able to gather his belonging and store them in his subspace. Now as he stepped onto the foreign ground he felt….off.

Looking down he saw that the ground was composed of tiny, granules of broken minerals that felt that if he were to take another step, he would slip and fall. Or perhaps he was still rocket lagged. Recalibrating his optics, he saw through the darkness that there were scattered pieces of vegetation, a few small nocturnal creatures, and some geometrical formations. Sensing no danger so far, he turned around and spotted something on the ground.

It was a black visor. Picking it up, he examined it. It was composed of a type of one way glass where the wearer could see everything through them while the bots they pass by couldn't see the wearer's optics. He had seen many of his more rebellious and anti-social classmates wear these in an attempt to remain unnoticed by particular bots or just to annoy the professors. Zettabyte had always felt slightly uncomfortable with the idea of wearing such things. They made bots look shady and, sometimes, ominous looking. He did admit that, at times, he would get curious about how they would fit and if the bots who wore them could really see well through them.

Still, the ruby and sapphire mech thought, feeling curiosity start to take control, Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to just try them on.

He carefully slipped on. Amazingly, they fitted him well. He looked around and saw that his vision was still as clear as before. Zettabyte smiled slightly at the sliver of giddiness of trying a, in his opinion, small authority defying deed. That is until he heard the oncoming roars of Cybertronian engines.

Twisting around, after jumping in surprise, Zettabyte found himself blinded by several lights. After a nano-klik, the lights were turned off. As he blinked several times to help his optics readjust, he came face to face with four bots. One was yellow and black mechling like him, perhaps around the same age. The yellow mechling had doorwings similar to some of the Praxian students on the Haven yet he did not look Praxian. Another thing Zettabyte couldn't help but notice was that a strange mouthpiece covered the mechling's mouth.

The next bot was a femme, the only one in the group seemed. She was a Cycle-former, or "two-wheeler" as he heard some bots call others whose alt. modes only had two wheels, hence the name. She was shorter than all her male counterparts, including Zettabyte. She was primarily blue but had some pink here and there. She had a crest and facial structure somewhat similar to his and even the shade of blue of her armor was the same shade of his blue areas. For some strange reason, the ruby and sapphire mechling felt as though he knew this femme but only briefly.

The next bot, a full grown mech, was taller than both the femme and mechling. He was large and muscular in a bulbous way. He had a large chin component and his arms and legs looked quite powerful. His armor was a dark toxic green with a few scars visible. The mech was obviously warrior class if not a Wrecker. But the height and powerful aura of this mech paled in comparison to the mech who stood right in the front of the group.

The mech was a combination of blue and red like him but just slightly darker shades. He stood taller than all three of the other bots. His posture and strong-looking armor almost made the green mech look like a gangly grunt. His expression was stern but not hostile. His helm was blue with audio finials and a frontal crest. After nearly half a nano-klik, though it had felt like megacycles, Zettabyte realized who he was in the presence of.

Optimus Prime.

A number of emotions ran through Zettabyte; shock, excitement, nervousness, embarrassment, and confusion. Before any words could spill from the ruby and sapphire mechling's mouth, the Prime spoke first.

In a strong but civil tone, Optimus spoke, "Hello young one. Welcome to Earth. I am Optimus Prime. The mechs and femme beside me are my teammates. Who are you?"

It was then that Zettabyte found his voice and spoke out as clear as he could, "Z-Zettabyte."

The Prime nodded before the yellow mechling and green mech bombarded him with questions.

"Are you a Bot or Con?"

[How old are you?]

"What can you possibly offer to our team?"

[Do you like racing?]

"Bulkhead, Bumblebee enough," the Prime commanded in a firm voice laced with hardened disapproval of their abrupt questions.

The Prime had nodded at both them when he spoke their names, signaling that the green mech was named Bulkhead and the yellow one was Bumblebee. What made Zettabyte curious was Bumblebee's voice pattern. It was of beeps and whirrs. If the yellow mechling had been on the Haven, he would have been teased for using what the other mechlings and femmenets would label as "sparkling talk." Somehow, Zettabyte found it quite interesting.

Optimus pressed two fingers to the side of his helm before speaking, "Ratchet, our new arrival is a mechling. His name is Zettabyte and he has not shown any hostility towards us. Bridge us back."

Five astroseconds later, a pale blue-green glowing portal opened before the small group of bots. Zettabyte hesitated as the three male Cybertronians ventured through. The blue femme seemed to sense his distrust.

Walking over to him, Arcee placed a servo on Zettabyte's shoulder to comfort him and urge him. However, as she placed her servo on him, a strange feeling came over her. A warm, platonic feeling she had not felt for many millennias. Another sensation crossed her. It was the feeling of familiarity. She couldn't place it but she knew the young mechling from somewhere.

Shaking herself out of her own thoughts, she spoke as gently as she could, "C'mon kid. You don't want to stay out here."

Feeling himself become more relaxed, Zettabyte cooperated. As he entered the Groundbridge, the dizziness that had left him nano-kliks earlier almost reawakened. All around him were warped whisps of static energy. It wasn't until he got to the end of the Groundbridge did he finally realize where he now stood.

In the middle of the floor was an Autobot insignia. To Zettabyte's right was what looked to be a simple but unusual looking computer and scanner. Behind it were some strangely small stairs that led to a platform that looked to be big enough for a sparkling or Mini-con which connected to a corridor behind the computer. The left side held a single doorway to a corridor which no doubt led to the berth quarters, storage spaces, and other necessary rooms.

Optimus stepped beside him before speaking, "Welcome to our base. My fellow Autobots, Arcee, Bulkhead, and Bumblebee, you have already met. Now I would like you to meet our medic, Ratchet."

Just as those last words left the Prime's mouth another mech appeared from the left corridor. He looked to be much older than his leader yet he was a bit shorter than Bulkhead. His stature of medic was obvious due to the lifeline arches painted red on his white arms. The red of the medic's, Ratchet's, armor was dull compared to his and Optimus' but the white seemed clean. The red chevron on the old mech's white helm gave him a slight no-nonsense look. In his arms were some medical supplies.

Putting on a polite smile, Zettabyte spoke, "Hello. It's nice to mee-"

"On the berth," Ratchet snapped in a gruff tone, pointing to a berth in the corner of the base that the ruby and sapphire mechling had not noticed.

Zettabyte was slightly startled, "I-I beg your par-"

"The. Berth. Now." This time it was ground out.

Feeling startled and slightly afraid, Zettabyte obeyed as he walked over to the berth. As he sat down, he was surprised to see the other four smiling. Seeing his confusion, Arcee stepped forward to explain.

"Don't take it personally. Ratchet gets like this around younglings all the time. It's his way of showing he cares," the blue femme said while ignoring the medic's huffs as he examined the ruby and sapphire mechling.

Zettabyte managed an awkward smile before saying, "It's alright. I'm actually glad that your team has an experienced medic. Perhaps he can teach me a thing or two. Or several things."

[Oh?], Bumblebee questioned.

Zettabyte nodded before continuing, "Yes. I was studying to be a medic and a scientist before Cybertron went dark but even though I succeeded in my studies I wasn't able to get trained by a professional due to the war."

Optimus spoke again, this time in a grave tone, "It would seem that opportunities was another thing that this war stole from our species' youths."

[How did you end up here anyway, Zettabyte?] Bumblebee questioned.

Wincing, Zettabyte sighed and explained, "Something…attacked the Haven, the ship I was on. The professors and older bots had my classmates and I flee through the escape pods. What they didn't tell us was that the pods were set on autopilot. I don't know how long I was drifting through space."

Bulkhead grumbled, "It looks like we're not the only ones with Con issues."

Zettabyte blinked, "There are Decepticons here? How many? Fifteen? Twenty?"

The green mech snorted, "Try an army of over fifty plus Megatron."

This made the ruby and sapphire mech gap before stuttering, "M-Megatron? THE Megatron?!"

Optimus nodded, "You were lucky that we came to greet you before the Decepticons did."

[And before you were spotted by any humans,] Bumblebee added.

Zettabyte looked at the yellow mechling strangely, "Humans? What are those?"

Ratchet explained, "They're Earth, this planet's, natives. They have never interacted with any beings outside their solar system despite the fact that some are interested in making contact with species such as ours."

Optimus joined in, "However, there are humans who are weary and fearful of the idea of intelligent beings beside themselves existing. But we cannot abandon them. Not while Megatron and his army are here. But to keep a safe optic on the humans, we hide in plain sight."

"Meaning that we scan Earth vehicles to replace our Cybertronian alt. modes with ones humans are more familiar with and cruise around in them to watch out for any Decepticon activity," Arcee clarified.

[We'll help you find an Earth vehicle to scan later. Cool visor by the way,] Bumblebee chirped. It was then that Zettabyte realized that he was still wearing the visor.

"Uh thank you," Zettabyte said awkwardly. Primus, the things you forget about when you're with new company, he thought to himself.

It was then that Zettabyte had an idea. He was on a new planet and a new group of bots. Led by Optimus Prime no less! He had heard of the mech's compassionate and open-minded views and his well thought out actions. Maybe, just maybe, if Zettabyte were to explain his ideas and plans to the older mech, the Prime would listen. Perhaps he would even consider using the ruby and sapphire mechling's ideas! It was a long shot and very unlikely scenario but Zettabyte would never know if he didn't try.

Inhaling and exhaling as quietly and discreetly as he could, he walked up to Optimus who currently seemed to be in deep thought. Zettabyte hesitated slightly but then continued forward. He was NOT going to back out now. Coming to stop a few inches before the older mech, Zettabyte waited a couple of nano-kliks before clearing his airways. It worked as the Prime turned his attention to him.

"Yes, can I help you Zettabyte?" Optimus inquired gently.

Zettabyte nodded as re replied, "Yes sir. I…I would like to tell you somethings…ideas to be specific…"

"I would be happy to hear what you are thinking," Optimus spoke, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

Zettabyte nodded before beginning, "I don't need to tell you that this war has gone on for too long. Nor do I need to tell you that this could have been avoided if only the caste system had been torn down before the lower caste bots joined the Decepticons and rose up to attack those they felt wronged them."

Optimus nodded as he listened. By then, the other bots had gathered to listen to Zettabyte.

The ruby and sapphire mechling continued, "Before Megatron set out to conquer Cybertron, he was a laborer turned gladiator who set out to change Cybertron for the good of those who were mistreated because of that awful caste. The last straw was when the High Council turned him away. But that's just it. This war was started not just because of the caste of Megatron's rage, but because of the wrong done against those whose labor never gained them anything meaningful. Aren't the upper caste bots more to blame for their cruelty they showed those bots that led to them having warped violent thoughts than the bots themselves?"

The bots stared at Zettabyte, optics wide and mouths slightly a gaped. Encouragement swept through Zettabyte like a supernova.

[So what are you saying?] Bumblebee asked.

Zettabyte held out his servos as he went on, "I'm saying that we do what should have been done all those millennias ago. We message the Decepticons, asking them to meet us in a specific place. We meet them there, look them straight in the optics, and proclaim that they didn't deserve that the caste and the nobles did to them and we're sorry for not standing beside them in their time of desperation when Megatron, or Megatronus, challenged the unethical treatment that he and his fellow miners, slaves, and gladiators were receiving.

As Zettabyte finished, all he was met with was silence. It wasn't like he was expecting an applause but-

"What's wrong with you?" Bulkhead snapped.

"Bulkhead!" Arcee hissed in a slightly angry voice.

"What?! Are you kidding me?! He can't be serious!" the green Wrecker bit back.

Zettabyte then began again, "I am serious. The Decepticons weren't always the mechs and femmes we know and fear. They were hard working bots who were treated like dirt because of the jobs they were forced to choose. All those denied opportunities and the onslaught of tragedies they endured is what made them snapped! It's what made Megatron snap!"

Optimus spoke up in a cool tone, "I cannot disagree with Zettabyte. The wrong done against the Decepticons who use to be members of the lower caste was what led them down the path of evil. But Zettabyte what you must understand is that Megatron would not just end the war by us coming to him and simply delivering a long overdue acknowledgement of what wrong he endured as a gladiator."

Zettabyte refused to be deterred and he asked questioningly, "Has any bot tried?"

Bulkhead scoffed, "Why bother when old Bucket-Head is just gonna use it as an excuse to slag us when our backs are turned. Besides he's done too many unforgiveable things for us to let go."

"I bet the nobles committed as many unforgiveable acts if not more," Zettabyte rebuked.

"Why are you so eager to make nice with The Slag-Maker anyway?"

"Because…because it was my adoptive father who wronged him and his fellow lower caste bots," Zettabyte admitted in shame.

"What are you talking about? It was Sentinel Prime who established the caste," Arcee said in confusion. It took three nano-kliks for the five Autobots to realize what Zettabyte was trying to say.

"You…you're that slagger's adopted son?" Bulkhead hissed violently.

Zettabyte nodded looking down before responding, "I never agreed with his ideals. And neither did my Amma, Theta. Every day when we looked at the lower caste and we would feel horror and shame. I felt so helpless to fix their lives. That's why I aim to become a medic and scientist. To fix and help those who need me instead of just waiting on the sidelines."

But that wasn't enough for Bulkhead. The Wrecker aggressively shoved Zettabyte while shouting, "That doesn't change what he did!"

"Bulkhead!" Ratchet scolded angrily as Zettabyte fell down with a sharp THUD. The other three bots held a hand to help him up. That's when they stopped. What they saw shocked them. The visor had slid down his face slightly in a comical way, similar to how sometimes human glasses slid down the noses of their wearers. But that's not what had gotten their attention. It was his optics. The one on the left was the same shade of crystal blue as theirs but the one on the right…was a fiery Decepticon red.

After ten astroseconds, Zettabyte realized what they were staring at and franticly readjusted his visor while stuttering out, "I-I-"

"You're HALF Con?!" Bulkhead roared in outrage. Before Zettabyte had a chance to speak out, he narrowly managed to dodge a punch from the Wrecker as he frantically scrambled to his pedes.

Bulkhead continued his tirade, "That's why you were spouting all that peace-making and forgiveness non-sense! You were trying help those scum buckets!"

Zettabyte was too frightened and hurt to fight back, verbally and physically. He had taken a few defense classes but with being slightly rusty and malnourished, Zettabyte was in no position to go up against a raging Wrecker. Shouts from the others rang through the base as they wrestled the green mech to the ground. But by then Zettabyte had had enough. Transforming as fast as he could into his alt. mode, the mismatched mechling sped through the tunnel that the Groundbridge had been at and didn't stop until he could no longer see the rocky guise that was the Autobot base or recall what directions he had driven through to flee. As he stopped and went into bi-pedal mode, a cold realization hit Zettabyte.

He was alone again. And there was no chance of him joining Optimus and his Autobots again.

*Dodges angry Bulkhead fans* I know that Bulkhead seems more cold-sparked in this story than in the series but don't forget I did say OOC. And from my perspective, the Autobots can be a little unforgiving and harsh sometimes. Don't worry, things will get more interesting but ratings may change. Please read and review. And any comments and haters aimed to bash me will be ignored. Flamers will get burned.

Until next chapter, Happy Reading.