Silverstorm and his team had cleared out enough of the nobles' houses that Optimus's team could fit comfortably into their little shield. Of course, Perceptor directed Wheeljack to fix the shields so that they were invisible again, but that meant that the mechs, who didn't know the limits of the area, kept running into it. The younglings, who were not plagued with this particular problem, found it funny. Which meant that things between the two groups were not off to the best start.

But Silverstorm had his own problems to deal with. For starters, he still wasn't sure where he stood with Optimus. The mech was polite, but there was something unsettling about it. Sometimes Silverstorm was convinced it was respect, other times he thought it was disdain. Whatever it was, it was driving him crazy. Plus there was Bumblebee and his strange behavior. After attempting one conversation with him, Silverstorm had the sudden, disquieting feeling that somehow their roles had reversed, and it was Bumblebee that needed taken care of. So Silverstorm was not in the best of moods when he got a call from Pipes.

"Prime?" Pipes asked.

"What is it, Pipes?" Silverstorm asked.

"I, um, I need to talk with you. Can we go somewhere?"

"Of course," Silverstorm said, cringing. "Why don't we go on a walk?"

"Okay. Meet you on the west side?"

"Sounds good."

Silverstorm pushed himself out of his chair and stretched out. Optimus wanted reports on everything, and with Ultra Magnus being prepped for surgery the next day, that left Silverstorm to write them up. His hand was cramping, and he shook it out then walked down the stairs and out into the starry day. When he got to the west side, Pipes was waiting for him, and he looked a bit anxious. Silverstorm clasped his forearm then glitched the barrier and they headed into the city.

After walking down a couple of streets, Silverstorm nudged Pipes. "What's going on? You're not usually this quiet."

Pipes tapped his fingers together then wrung his hands. "I just… I don't think I'm going to do Magnus's surgery tomorrow."

Silverstorm shuttered his optics. "I'm sorry, what?"

Pipes didn't reply, but his optics flashed pink. Silverstorm wrapped an arm around him.

"Pipes? Talk to me. Why don't you want to do the surgery? You've done so well with the others."

They walked in silence for a few minutes before coming to a place to sit down. Silverstorm led him over and they sat. Pipes squirmed and sighed.

"Primus came to me yesterday and said that Ratchet and First Aid can help me now, so he won't be there. And when I told them that Primus wasn't coming, they acted… cold toward me. Like they didn't believe me or something."

Silverstorm had noticed the skepticism that the mechs showed toward the younglings' stories of Primus, and he didn't know what to do. Primus had instructed him to try and get Optimus to the temple, but every time he invited him, the older Prime said he was busy. Primus refused to present himself to Optimus or his team until he came to see him, so there was nothing that Silverstorm could do but keep asking him to go to the temple.

"What do I do, Prime?" Pipes's small voice asked, bringing him out of his thoughts.

"Do you want to do the surgery?" Silverstorm asked.

Pipes tapped his foot then nodded. "I do. I want to show them what I'm capable of. But without Primus, I'm scared to ask questions. What if Ratchet and First Aid think I'm stupid?"

Silverstorm smiled. "There's nothing wrong with learning, Pipes. They know you're new to this. So ask your questions."

Pipes looked away. "They make me feel dumb."

"What?" Silverstorm was bewildered. Ratchet and First Aid were brilliant, sure, but they never talked down to people. "How do they do that?"

"They're reorganizing my medbay," Pipes said unhappily. "And they get irritated when I have to ask where my own tools are. They point like it should be obvious."

A tight ball of anger burned in Silverstorm's chest, and he took a deep breath. "Let's go talk to them then," he said quietly. "Because they have no right to do that. It's disrespectful."

"Oh, no!" Pipes said frantically, leaping to his feet. "I just won't do the surgery. We don't need to talk with them…"

Pipes knew by the look on Silverstorm's face that he was dead set on talking with the mechs. So he slumped and hugged himself. Silverstorm slung an arm around him and they headed back toward the bubble. Ironhide saw them coming and waved at them, heading over to talk.

"Shield!" Silverstorm called then flinched as Ironhide got a nasty shock and stumbled back. He saw him swearing but couldn't hear it, and he began to laugh as he glitched the barrier and they stepped through.

"You okay, Hide?" Silverstorm asked, heading over to help him up.

"That thing is awful!" Ironhide groused. "What were you two doing out there?"

"Talking," Silverstorm said shortly. "Where's Ratchet?"

Ironhide paused and glanced at Pipes, who looked away. "I believe he's in the medbay."

"Pipes's medbay?" Silverstorm asked.

"Well, yeah, if you need to categorize it that way…" Ironhide tilted his head. "Why?"

"I'm going to go and have a chat with him and Aid about rearranging Pipes's medbay."

Ironhide shuttered his optics. "What?" He looked aghast. "You're kidding, right? He didn't!"

"He did," Silverstorm said. There was a bit of acid in his tone, and Ironhide shook his head.

"Okay then. I'll go with you."

Silverstorm nodded and strode off, his arm still wrapped around Pipes, who was clearly getting more and more reluctant as they got closer. They walked in, and Pipes looked ready to bolt, but Ironhide shut the door and stood there, scanning the medbay. Ratchet was cleaning his tools, and Ultra Magnus was resting. They could hear First Aid in the back. Ultra Magnus looked positively alarmed as he stared at Silverstorm's face.

"What's wrong, Prime?" he asked in a tight voice.

Ratchet spun on his heel, and First Aid popped his head around a corner, both of them looking tense. When they saw Silverstorm, there was a pause of confusion before they remembered that there was another Prime.

"Can I help you, Silverstorm?" Ratchet asked.

"What is with the disrespect, Ratchet?" Silverstorm demanded.

Shock filled the medic's face. "Disrespect?" he asked, bemused. "Did I say something that upset you? I'm sorry if I did."

There was hesitation, a bit of unease, and Silverstorm noticed First Aid reaching up to tap his com-link. Silverstorm focused on Ratchet.

"Not me. Pipes."

Ratchet still looked puzzled. "I'm sorry, what did I do?"

"Are you serious?" Silverstorm asked. "You reorganized his medbay! Both of you!"

Ratchet and First Aid suddenly looked uncomfortable. "We didn't reorganize it," Ratchet said meekly. "We organized it. It was a mess."

Offense crossed Silverstorm's face and he pointed to a drawer. "What's in there?"

"Lubricants," First Aid replied automatically.

Silverstorm turned to Pipes. "What's supposed to be in there?"

Pipes glanced at the drawer and shifted his weight. "Welding electrodes," he muttered.

Surprise flitted across the mechs' faces. Then First Aid looked down. "I suppose we should have asked."

"Frag yeah you should have asked!" Silverstorm boomed. "You school it into every fragging mech you meet: move anything and you're dead! How dare you rearrange Pipes's medbay without talking to him! This is his medbay! Not yours! If you want to set up your own and arrange it your way, fine, but don't you ever do this again! Apologize to Pipes! And then you're going to put everything back the way he had it!"

They flinched, and Ironhide watched, fascinated by this new side of Silverstorm. First Aid sighed and walked over to Pipes. "I'm sorry I reorganized everything. It seemed so haphazard, and there was no order."

"If there's a better way, I'll be happy to hear it," Pipes said, glancing up at him. "But the surgery is tomorrow, and if there's an emergency… I'll be helpless. And it's already bad enough that I don't know what I'm doing…"

"Ridiculous," Ultra Magnus said firmly. "You've done great with the others."

Pipes shrugged. "Primus won't help me this time. And I've asked him so many questions…"

Silverstorm caught an optic roll from Ratchet but First Aid smiled warmly. "Oh, don't you worry," he encouraged. "Ask all you like. You're still learning, and it's perfectly natural to ask about things you don't know or understand."

"I won't irritate you?"

First Aid shook his head. "Not at all. Ask anything you like. We'll need you to explain what you've done already once we open him up."

Pipes relaxed. "Okay then."

"Good," First Aid said. "Now let's get started with fixing everything. After the surgery, we'll have a talk about organization."

Silverstorm caught Pipes's wrist before he could move. "Hold on."

"What?" Pipes asked.

"We're not done here."

Ironhide straightened, an uneasy feeling in his fuel tank.

"We aren't?" First Aid asked.

"No, we're not," Silverstorm said. He turned his optics on Ratchet. "You still owe Pipes an apology."

Ratchet narrowed his optics and crossed his arms. "Aid said it."

"No, Ratchet," Silverstorm said. "You need to apologize, too."

Ironhide stepped forward. "Prime?"

Silverstorm ignored him. Ratchet was proud of his skills and proud of his role on the team. If he thought he was right, he wouldn't apologize. In those cases, he only ever apologized when he was forced to, and the medic was indignant that Silverstreak was ordering him to apologize. It rankled him, and he stiffened.

"We're waiting," Silverstorm said.

There was silence, and Ultra Magnus glanced between Silverstorm and Ratchet. They were all startled when the door opened and Optimus came in with Kup. He stopped and looked around then locked his gaze on Silverstorm.

"Is everything okay in here?" Optimus asked slowly, soothingly.

"Fine. Just waiting for Ratchet to apologize to Pipes."

Optimus couldn't stop the stuttering click of surprise that escaped him. "Ah, what for?" he asked.

"He reorganized Pipes's medbay. Without asking him."

Shock crossed Optimus's expression and Kup rolled his optics heavenward. "Primus help us," the old warrior muttered.

"Did you do that, Ratchet?" Optimus asked, his tone soft and disbelieving.

Ratchet squirmed. "I might have," he finally said reluctantly.

"Then you owe him an apology."

Ratchet made a face but when Optimus gave him a look, he flinched and wilted.

"I'm sorry, Pipes. I shouldn't have done it."

Optimus nodded, and Silverstorm's wings hitched up. The older Prime recognized that Silverstorm was very upset by that apology. But why? Wasn't that what he wanted?

"It's okay," Pipes said. "I know it's a bit chaotic. I'm not so good at organizing. But I can tell you where everything was."

"Then let's get started," First Aid said.

The three medics began to open drawers, pulling out the items, while Silverstorm watched them. He looked at Optimus, and Optimus was surprised by the anger he saw in the young face.

"Is something wrong?" Optimus asked.

"I've got reports to do," Silverstorm said, his tone clipped, and he turned and left. Kup punched Optimus's shoulder.

"If you don't curb that, there's going to be trouble."

"Curb what?" Optimus asked.

Kup shook his head. "You should have told Ratchet to listen to Silverstorm, not give your own orders to apologize."

"What's the difference?" Optimus asked, a bit defensive.

"It's the difference between you supporting the authority of the new Prime and you keeping the title to yourself," Kup replied.

"Is that why he was so upset?" Optimus asked.

"Upset?" Kup asked. "I mean, I'm sure he was, but I couldn't tell. He seems calmer than he was, though."

Optimus frowned. "He was obviously upset. Didn't you see the way his wings hitched up? They were rigid, and he was so angry at me."

"You're reading too far into it, Optimus," Ironhide said gently. "Now let's get out of here before we get roped into helping clean up."

"Take me with you," Ultra Magnus said, the slightest edge of pleading in his voice.

"Can you?"

"Pipes? Can I leave?" Ultra Magnus asked.

Pipes glanced over at him then walked over and checked his vitals. "Short walk, no strenuous or exciting activity," he instructed.

"Thank the starry hosts," Ultra Magnus said.

Optimus helped him up and walked out, supporting his old friend as much as he needed him to. Ironhide stopped in the doorway and looked back at Ratchet. Kup had been right. In his refusal to apologize at Silverstorm's command, Ratchet hadn't acknowledged his authority as Prime. Yet Optimus had flexed his authority and subdued the medic at once. The uneasy feeling from earlier stayed in Ironhide's fuel tank as he turned and left, knowing that this wasn't the last of it.