Author's Notes: I've had this chapter in my head for some time now, but I'm still a little disappointed at how it turned out. I mean, it's okay, but I feel it could've been better. Oh well. The dream sequence turned out pretty good. I always enjoy writing dream sequences because I can go as crazy as I want. In dreams anything is possible! Thank you for reading my fic, and I hope you will continue to read to see what happens to our poor little drone :)

Chapter 4

Who Was That?

PR-35 had gone into recharge knowing he would likely have nightmares. That wasn't uncommon for the poor drone. Whenever he had a hard day it would usually manifest itself as bad dreams. This night was no exception, but on this night his dreams managed to surprise even him...

PR-35 stood in a spotlight amid a dark room. His visor couldn't adjust, and he didn't know where he was. Suddenly the lights came on, and he was standing in a courtroom before Optimus Prime, who had his battle mask on.

"The court hereby liquidates all of Megatron's assets," Optimus Prime said in an authoritative voice, "Bailiff, liquidate him."

Then Bulkhead was instantly there. He pulled a lever which caused molten metal to be poured all over PR-35; turning him into a metallic liquid paste! PR-35 melted down into a drain that was in the middle of the room, and when he resolidified he was falling down a large pipe and crashing into thin slabs of metal!

He couldn't move, and he could barely hear himself scream! Then Breakdown was falling with him and looking at him with a sarcastic expression on his face plate.

"I see the trial went well," Breakdown said sardonically, "You know you deserve this. The Prime should have killed you. You're not a drone. Megatron pulls your strings and suppresses your spark, and you let him. You deserve this."

PR-35 watched as Breakdown gained momentum and disappeared from sight. PR-35 continued to fall until he landed on the ground outside. He looked around, and it was a burning city with red skies and destroyed buildings. He looked around, and he saw a sparkling trapped under a building whimpering and crying for help. PR-35 went to pull the sparkling out, but when he did the sparkling started looking up at him and crying!

"No, please!" The sparkling wailed, "Not Decepticons! No! I didn't do anything!"

"I never said you did," PR-35 replied to the sparkling in a distant tone of voice.

"Don't make me go! Please!" The sparkling begged, "Please, just give me back my city! I'll do anything!"

PR-35 was confused. Who was this random sparkling, and why did he think the drone had anything to do with his city being gone? Where were they going? He didn't understand.

Then he saw the rubble of the city come to life and crawl all over his body! It was trying to eat him! The city itself was trying to devour him! PR-35 struggled to break free, but it was no use. The city had him in its clutches!

"Goodbye," The sparkling looked sad as it waved goodbye at him.

"No!" PR-35 cried out, "What's happening?"

"Goodbye…" The voice of the sparkling echoed as he slowly disintegrated and became part of the rubble that was eating PR-35.

Everything was black. Then he onlined his visor and saw a stage play in front of him. A white and purple mech with fancy silver detailing was singing about the misfortune of life as glitter particles wafted all around him. It was the grand finale. PR-35 was so excited to see the big fireworks show that would mark the end of the play.

"This is so cool!" PR-35 squealed in delight.

"Shh!" The 'Bot next to him shushed him, "You don't want to miss it, do you?"

PR-35 turned to see the smiling face of an Autobot, but for some strange reason he wasn't afraid. This wasn't an Autobot he had ever seen before. This one was white and orange with an orange chevron on his helm and small cyan colored optics. The Autobot looked ahead, so PR-35 did as well, and the fireworks were beautiful! So many colors popping and blasting all around them in a panorama of shapes and symbols! PR-35 wanted to cry...

"Thanks for bringing me here," PR-35 said to the Autobot.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," the mysterious Autobot replied as if this were a normal conversation, "We should go out to shows like this more often."

"I agree," a third mech, a black and white Autobot, interjected, "Perhaps next time we could go to a music festival. One of my friends at the academy is really interested in music, and he showed me this new band called Plastic Metal. They are quite good. Would you like to go?" He asked PR-35 specifically.

"Yes, I would like to go," PR-35 found himself saying, though for some reason he was sad despite how pleasant the occasion was, "I love you guys."

"We love you, too," The white and orange mech said gently as he hugged PR-35, "I need to take you boys home. I have to go to work tomorrow, and you have to obey Megatron."

"Huh?"

The chronometer buzzed inside PR-35's helm, and he awoke with a start! A dream. It was only a dream. Who were those mechs? PR-35 always felt weird after dreams like that. It was strange when he dreamt of mechs that never existed, and yet in the dream they felt like his best friends or loved ones.

Oh well, PR-35 didn't have time to dwell on his dreams. He had to get to work. He was supposed to polish Megatron's armor today, and then go on patrol around the Nemesis. He didn't have a moment to spare.

He strode down the hall and looked at the different Vehicons milling around that day. Most of them were practically brand new. Some weren't even two vorns old yet! PR-35 always felt like an ancient relic. He was the only surviving member of the original batch of Vehicons. That made him the oldest surviving drone in existence. He supposed without a spark it didn't matter since he wasn't truly alive, but it still felt like an accomplishment nonetheless.

PR-35 stopped when he noticed that TGP-538 and Breakdown were having a conversation. So, it wasn't a fluke. Breakdown really did like talking to Vehicons. That was so cool! PR-35 wished he could do something to repay Breakdown for his friendship. It was such an honor to have an officer for a friend.

"Hey guys, what are you doing?" PR-35 asked them, "Oh, wait! Was that too casual? Should I go back and do it again? Did I just insult a superior officer? Oh pit, I am so sorry!"

"Hey, relax!" Breakdown chuckled, "Everything's cool. We were just trying to decipher this human song we found. Here, have a listen."

PR-35 tuned in to the frequency they were listening to, and heard a song sung by several human sparklings.

The wheels on the bus go round and round,

round and round,

round and round.

The wheels on the bus go round and round,

all through the town!

"I don't know about you, but I think she sound hot," Breakdown commented, "Busses are usually large, firm, and well-traveled."

"No way, it's gotta be a guy!" TGP-538 argued, "It talks about the windshield wipers! What kind of femme brags about her windshield wipers?"

"No, it's totally a femme," Breakdown contested, "She's carrying sparklings. No mech would willingly transport so many sparklings to school. What do you think, PR-35?"

"You, um, want to know what I think?" PR-35 nearly glitched at that notion. No one ever asked him about his opinion, "Well, I don't know what gender the bus is, but he or she sounds like a hard worker. They go all through the town even though they have a bunch of sparklings in tow. Not to mention their wheels must be so tired. I know my wheels get tired if I'm on them all day."

"That's a good point, buddy," Breakdown replied with a smile, "But I still think she's a chick."

Breakdown then got a comm from Knockout saying he needed assistance, so Breakdown had to excuse himself from the conversation. TGP-538 and PR-35 also went on their way to perform their respective duties. PR-35 didn't know what he did to deserve such cool friends, but he was surely grateful to have them.

It was a few weeks later when PR-35 found himself out in earth's sunshine on a hot day. He was one of several soldiers assigned to guard the servant class miners as they searched for energon. It was blistering hot and many of the Vehicons were upset at having to be out in this weather, but PR-35 was just happy to be allowed to go anywhere.

The Decepticons were running low on energon again, and Megatron was starting to get desperate. They were checking old mines for scraps, Soundwave was scanning for new energy sources on the planet, and the rations had become skimpy to an extreme degree. These miners had the future of the Decepticon army resting on their shoulder guards.

PR-35 rested for a moment in the shade of a boulder as he looked up at the clouds. Earth had such beautiful clouds. White made them look so pure, like blank paper or a brand new star. He wished he could physically smile, but his face plate conveyed the emotion well enough.

His peaceful mood was interrupted when he heard blaster fire and the familiar sound of an Autobot blade slashing through his comrades. He got up and looked over the boulder to see who was attacking. With his luck there would only be one Autobot. Any more than that and he was as doomed as everyone else.

He looked, and had to do a double take.

"It's alright, I'm an emergency vehicle," The Autobot casually stated before he ripped open his Vehicon victim with his bare servo blades.

That Autobot! It was the Autobot from PR-35's weird dream a few weeks back! He'd recognize those markings anywhere! This wasn't the kind Autobot from his dream, however. This Autobot was just as savage as the others, and seemed to relish the opportunity to kill drones.

PR-35 noticed the Autobot chasing one of the servants up the cliff, and decided to climb up there to see if he could get in a good long-range shot at the Autobot. Maybe he could still save the miner. It was already too late for the others.

PR-35 struggled to get up the cliff. He only had one hand. His right arm was attached to a gun instead of a hand, so he kept losing his balance and nearly falling! Warrior class Vehicons weren't made for such manual work.

Despite the difficulty PR-35 managed to get up the cliff. When he did he was horrified by what he saw. The Autobot had the miner, ICN-8675, pinned to the ground, and was holding an activated blowtorch to the poor drone's face! The miner screamed in agony, and PR-35 could hear ICN-8675 giving the Autobot information. PR-35 knew the Autobots scrapped Vehicons on a regular basis, but he had never seen a Vehicon tortured for information before! It was revolting!

The Prime showed up with the rest of his team, and PR-35 feared this would be the moment when ICN-8675 would be killed, but still PR-35 did nothing. He knew if he managed to kill the torturer he would just die by the servos of the other Autobots, and while he would willingly die for any Decepticon warrior, it didn't seem worth it to die for the sake of another drone. They were just sparkless objects. They weren't worth avenging.

To PR-35's surprise, however, the Prime didn't order the Vehicon killed. The white and orange Autobot tried to kill ICN-8675, but the Prime actually stopped him, allowing the miner to escape!

PR-35 decided to follow the miner. If nothing else he could offer a shoulder guard to cry on. It was the least he could do after not shooting his torturer.

"ICN-8675, wait!" PR-35 called out, "It's just me, PR-35!"

"Huh? Oh, hey," ICN-8675 stopped running and looked embarrassed at having been seen in such a miserable state, "I gotta go tend to my mining drill. That's valuable Decepticon property."

"Hey, you're valuable Decepticon property, and the Autobots just defaced you!" PR-35 shouted.

"Yeah, literally!" ICN-8675 snapped as he tilted his helm back as if trying to look like he was rolling his optics, "That crazy Autobot tried to melt my face off! I tried to be strong, but it hurt so bad! I thought Autobots didn't kill servants! He was going to kill me!"

ICN-8675 was sobbing at this point, and PR-35 felt awful. He knew ICN-8675 was just a drone, but he was still a mech PR-35 had known for deca-vorns. He should've defended him. He should've killed the Autobot even if it cost him his own life. He just couldn't though, and for once it wasn't just cowardice. There was something about that Autobot that drew PR-35's attention. Something about that mech was different. He just didn't know what.

"Come on, ICN-8675. Let's get you back to the Nemesis," PR-35 said as he put his left hand on the other mech's back, "I'll show you this cool song TGP-538 found about a gorgeous bus. Just picture her, and you'll feel better."

ICN-8675 smiled in his own Vehicon way, and the two left the scene. PR-35 wasn't sure if that would actually work, but he knew hope was a powerful tool for a Vehicon. Many Vehicons didn't have a long-term hope for anything, but short-term hope could be powerful too.

They went back to the Nemesis via ground bridge, and soon ICN-8675 was in Knockout's medbay getting his melted face fixed. PR-35 knew though that some scars would take longer to heal. ICN-8675 had never had to face an Autobot willing to kill him before. The sad part for PR-35 was that he couldn't remember his first time facing down an Autobot to the death. It had been too long ago.