"Princess Nebula!"

What?!

Rodimus stared in shock, as a what look like a small blue femme took the podium from the Ultra Magnus look alike. Okay, clearly the history of this dimension was different from his, because as far as he knew there was no ruler of Cybertron who had the name of Nebula, much less being a princess. In fact, that title seemed wrong. Even though he was a young prime, and in no way a history buff, he knew that the term had not been associated with anyone in cybertronian history and it shouldn't have. It was an earth term. Cybertron had primes, and faction leaders, but Earth had princesses. Did that mean in this world there was cultural exchange between the two worlds as well?

"Thank you for those…electrifying…introductions, Ultra Magnus," A clear, strong Femme voice echoed throughout the stadium.

Rodimus's gaze was immediately drawn back to the femme on the stand. The power that bled from that single line made him pay attention to her words, and he wasn't the only one as the roaring crowd suddenly quieted down.

"Today is a celebrated day, one that will go down in our history as one of peace. I know that Optimus Prime, my father, would be watching us with deep pride if he were us today."

Rodimus felt like his could short circuit right then. This Nebula was the creation of Opitmus Prime? Well, that explained the princess bit. It also explained why he had never heard of her in his world. She didn't exist, because he got Optimus killed before she could be created. Pretty obvious that she'd be chosen as the next Matrix holder being the creation of one.

"As I look out at the crowd, I see the dream that he had for this planet. Cybertronians, no matter the alternate mode, wealth, job, or home world, standing side by side in harmony."

"Well, this was unexpected," Springer said.

"No kidding," Rodimus grumbled.

"So, if you're not the Prime, then where are you?" the triple changer asked, an optic ridge raised.

"Does that really matter right now?" Arcee said, "We have the proof that we're in another dimension, what now? How are we going to get back home?"

"Missy's right," Kup finally chimed in, "We're in unknown territory, we need a plan. So far, we've managed to stay in the back ground but it's only a matter of time until someone notices we're not supposed to be here."

"HEY!" A bot that looked like a guard shouted as he and his partner rounded in the corner, "You're not allowed back here!"

Talk about timing. Rodimus's optics widened, "Drive!" he shouted.

The group of interdimensional travelers, folded into their vehicle modes and took off down the halls. The guards however were still hot on their taillights. One of them transforming to chase them on wheels, and the other running on his pedes. The sounds of tires screeching and engines revving filled the tight complex halls underneath the stadium as the chase continued. But this didn't last forever.

Rodimus didn't know exactly when the guard in his vehicle mode disappeared from behind them, but he would forever remember the moment the guard ran out from behind the intersection ahead of them, becoming a large living road block. Rodimus slammed on his breaks, and twisted his vehicular form sideways, trying to slow himself. However, it wasn't enough and his momentum forced him over, rolling rockily across the floor. The swapping back to his robot mode, and using his servos as the last, and successful, attempt to stop. Laying on his front, Rodimus turned his helm up at the hum of a weapon charging to fire.

The young prime's optics widened; his faceplate nearly touching the end of the canon. However, that was only part of the shock. This hadn't been the first time had been held at gun point, but this was the first time that the gun had once been someone's servo. Internal weapons, while a possibility, were still a rarity, and usually melee rather than range.

"What's going here?" a new voice called out.

Rodimus's gaze was immediately drawn to the new voice (anything to get him to stop looking up the barrel of the blaster). Walking up to them was another mech, who was shortly followed by a bulky blue femme.

"Commander Bumblebee!" the guard hold him at blaster point said.

Bumblebee?! Rodimus stared at the new mech in shock. He hadn't been all that close to the autobot scout, but he had met him before, and the mech in front of him was certainly not the same mech of his world. He was far too tall; the Bumblebee of his world was on the small side, shorter than him, even before the Matrix. The mostly yellow paint job was similar, but it was etched with black and the plating, like all of the cybertronians here, had a more rounded out shape. The whitish grey face plate was similar, but the helm completely lacked the tiny devil horns that he had seen on his world's bumblebee's helm, as if they had seemingly been traded for the pair of door wings on his back.

"We found them roaming the halls without access sir!" the other guard said.

Bumblebee, Commander Bumblebee apparently, looked at the collection of dimension travelers. His had an unimpressed look on his face plate, even slowly raising an optic ridge. However, once the teal, round, almost organic looking, optics landed on Rodimus they widened. An almost sick looking expression came across the whitish face plate.

"Who are you?" Commander Bumblebee demanded, his right servo swapping over to a blaster faster than Rodimus's optic could detect. The bulky blue femme next to him quickly following suit, drawing her own weapon.

The tension of the situation was heightening at an alarming rate. Rodimus knew he had to step in before things got violent. Springer's temper was more reckless than he could be, and Arcee and Kup were too busy being shocked to do much. That left he young prime with the task, even though he wasn't the best at interventions. So, mumbling a quiet prayer to Primus, Rodimus scrambled to his pedes.

"Wait! Wait! Don't shoot!" The young prime all but screamed, "We don't want any trouble!"

"Saying that and actually wanting that are two very different things," Commander Bumblebee said, his blaster still up, "Now, answer me, who are you?"

"My name is Rodimus Prime."

The Bulky Blue femme snorted, "You actually expect us to believe that? If you were going to pretend to be a prime, you should've chosen a name that actually belonged to a real prime."

"Look I know this sounds crazy, but we came from an alternate dimension by accident. In our world, I was chosen by the matrix instead of Princess Nebula," Rodimus paused, "We don't want to cause any trouble for you. We just want to go home."

The Femme next to Commander Bumblebee raised an optic ridge, her crested helm tilting to the side in an unimpressed manner, "You expect us to believe that? If her majesty doesn't exist in your world and you're in charge than how do you know about her? humm?"

"Are you kidding me lady, she's literally making a speech at an event where her name and position were loudly announced to everyone!" Springer nearly yelled.

"Springer, you're not helping," Arcee said.

"Oh really? And you chastising me is?" The triple changer said.

"Arcee! Springer! Shut up! Both of you!" Rodimus said.

"Wait," Commander Bumblebee said looking at the pink femme, "Your name is Arcee?"

"Yes," Arcee said.

The Commander paused, looking at the group once more. Belief beginning to set into the features of his faceplate. He casted Rodimus another pained look before turning to the blue femme next to him.

"Strongarm, summon a council meeting," Commander Bumblebee said.

"What?! But Sir, the games are about to begin, they need to be present for this moment in history!" The femme, who was apparently named Strongarm said.

"I don't care. The colony leaders can stay where they are, but the city state leaders, head archivists, Ultra Magnus, and the Princess will be needed. Run up to their booth, and if they give you trouble, tell Ultra Magnus that this message is from me. He'll handle the rest. Now go!"

Okay, so stuck in an alternate dimension, a very different alternate dimension, and a with no way to get home. It wasn't the best situation, and it was only made worse with the fact that they had just interrupted what was going to be a major historic event. Thankfully though, it seemed like this world's Bumblebee, or Commander Bumblebee, believed them. He did go out of his way to get them a meeting with this world's council.

Which lead to the exact reason why Rodimus felt like he was going to short circuit for what could've been the fourth time this solar cycle. Four guards, led by Commander Bumblebee, were currently escorting him and his fellow dimension travelers to the council hall. Which had not been in the stadium where they were caught.

They had been driven to another structure in this world's Iacon. One that was even bigger than the stadium. The Large, golden, azure, and violet building could only be described as a palace; Shimmering towers, and mighty walls forming the outside. All of which glittered in the sunshine.

The entry way, was a large gate that opened into a giant courtyard, with an ellipse shaped road going through it and circling, large shining statues of what could've been previous primes (12 mechs, one of them looking very similar to his worlds Optimus, and 2 femmes). Rodimus swallowed, when they entered the palace through the giant doors, adorned in gold and diamonds. Inside was forged of training fields, archives, laboratories, courtyards, and gardens of the odd metallic flowers, all of which was connected together with tall lavish hallways decorated with paintings and tapestries.

Rodimus didn't want to look at anything around him. He felt completely out of place, and not just because of the actual universal displacement. He felt very out placed here, in this building. A building built for Primes, primes who were great leaders and probably didn't have nearly half of the populace blaming them for the death of their predecessor. Sure, this place didn't exist in his world, due to the Cybertron still rebuilding (that is an effect of a stellar cycles long civil war, children), but who's to say they wouldn't build something like this for him once they had the time and resources. The thought of a palace being built for him, it made his tank churn.

The young prime suddenly felt watched, his optics almost instinctively going toward this world Bumblebee. The commander's optics looked away as soon as Rodimus made optic-contact. Why the yellow and black mech kept glancing back at him? The young prime didn't know. He also didn't know why the look in the commander's optics would fill with pain whenever he glanced back.

Finally, they were lead through a pair of tall gaping doors, that seemed to be glorified in jewels and precious metals. Inside was clearly the council meeting hall. The seats were in a horse shoe shape, and raised off the floor, making their occupants look down at the group of dimension hoppers. Said cybertronians, weren't hard to mistake for those of high status. Most of them held themselves with a poised calm confidence. Their colorful frames polished to perfection, and some of them even wearing flowing capes and sparkling crowns. Though, there were some seats that were noticeably empty.

At the head of the room was where Princess Nebula sat. Her place higher than the other council members and the railing in front of her was embellished with decorative shards of metal. She was sat on a shining throne, but Rodimus couldn't see her face. A veil of bright light flowed form the window above her throne and hid her face in shadows.

"Commander Bumblebee," the Ultra Magnus of this world said, from where he stood next to the Princess.

Honestly, Rodimus thought this double was the most like the one in his world. Sure, the white paint was switched out for a more metallic grey, the blue was a slightly different shade, and his plating was all rounded out, but it was similar enough. The biggest difference Rodimus could see, was the seemingly permeant displeased stoic expression on this Ultra Magnus's faceplate.

"Ultra Magnus," Commander Bumblebee stated.

"When I received your message, I was concerned. Now what was the matter that would cause an entire council meeting during such a prominent event in cybertronian history?"

"Well," Commander Bumblebee started, "Ultra Magnus, Senators, and her majesty. I believe we have a case interdimensional travel."

A bot with a shiny bronze paint job, who was sitting on the left, began to laugh haughtily, "Alright, who is for entertaining this nonsense, when we can just throw these delinquents out and get back to the solar cycle's celebrations?"

"You'd just through some people out like that?" Spoke up a red and black Femme seeker, who was standing. Turbines in her wings, and red markings around her blue optics.

"Of course! Can't you see how ludicrous this claim is, City Speaker?" The bronze bot said once again.

"I agree with Windblade," Spoke up a graveling voice, who's owner sat on the right.

Rodimus looked over to the other side of the room, finding that the speaker was another seeker. This one a mech, however he could've easily been mistaken for a femme. His body was slim, slimmer than any other flyer, Rodimus had ever seen. This lack of bulk in his build was only acknowledge by the ocean blue, bright red, and sick silver paint job, along with the purple cape and golden crown he wore. The large wings on his back seemed to twitch or flutter every now and again. As for visible weapons, there wasn't much Rodimus could see, two missiles were attached to his forearms, rather than any sort of null rays or blasters, and possibly his sharp talon like digits, that were currently tapping the surface in front of him.

"Of course, you'd flyers would stick together," the bronze bot grumbled not quietly enough.

"I think you've made your point Copperbottom," A Red and white mech spoke up, shooting a fitting glare at said bronze bot, "Your reasoning, Winglord Starscream?"

Rodimus felt his jaw drop. That was Starscream?!

"Thank you Ratchet," Winglord Starscream said, "As for my reasoning, me, Windblade and Senator Smokescreen," He gestured to a blue and yellow bot on the opposite side of the room, "have worked with Commander Bumblebee for a number of vorns and on very different occasions. While unorthodox at times, he is not the kind play these kinds of jokes, especially at this level."

"And I have to agree," Ultra Magnus stated, before turning towards the throne, "Your majesty? Your opinion?"

"Have one step forward to plead their case," A voice came from the shadow on the throne, soft and shallow, that seemed to lose it strength without the echo of the arena to amplify it, "I'd like to speak to them myself."

Commander Bumblebee turned around to them, and gestured for one of them to go forward. Rodimus turned back to his group.

"You're the prime," Springer said.

Rodimus swallowed, and walked forward, until he was standing in the middle of the room. The young prime focused his optics on the shadowed leader, and tried not to noticed the number of other optics staring at him expectantly.

"What is your name?" Princess Nebula spoke.

"Rodimus Prime."

Quiet gasps, and shudders of surprise happened through the room.

"Prime? That is quite a claim," She asked.

"Wish I wasn't sometimes," Rodimus huffed.

"He's lying," Copperbottom suddenly spoke up.

Rodimus's tank dropped, as his optics immediately look to the bronze mech. Well, that wasn't good. That wasn't good at all.

"And why is that?" Ratchet asked with a glare.

"No, Prime would ever, make such a joke about his status," Copperbottom said.

"Really?" Windlord Starscream interjected, "Well, pray tell, when was the last time you talked to a prime?"

The next few moments, were far from peaceful. Council members began to argue with each other. Filling the room with constant, sometimes violent, chatter that echoed off of the tall walls and ceiling. Rodimus felt crushed by the noise. The chaos raddled his mind as if an earthquake was trapped in his helm.

"Council members please!" Princess Nebula finally said, and all of the chatter ceased. There was pause, before she continued, "There is a simple way to prove whether…Rodimus…speaks the truth or not."

Another pause.

"Rodimus, if you truly are a prime," Princess Nebula said, "Then show us the Matrix."

Once more all optics were on him, and the young prime definitely felt uncomfortable now. Still, he knew that his audience, was waiting and this was probably the only way to get them to believe him. Considering that if two matrix holders (him and Princess Nebula) were in the same room, it might prove what he was saying. As if it were any other scenario than dimension travel, this would be impossible.

Cautiously, Rodimus cracked his chest plate, and the panels opened. The bright vibrant blue light of the Matrix of Leadership shown out of him. The effect it had on the room was almost immediate, and Rodimus saw that many of the faceplates surrounding him were convinced. The young prime quickly closed his chest plate before it got too awkward.

Senator Smokescreen smirked and turned to Copperbottom, "And you would argue with that?"

Copperbottom, merely scoffed and shook his helm.

Princess nebula hummed, "Take our guests to medical wing to be evaluated and treated if necessary. Prepare rooms for them, and meals. And send the prime to my personal chambers, with in two mega cycles. I'd like to speak with him privately."

Kup had seen many things. A civil war, bots torn in half by blaster fire, the inside of Grimlock's mouth. So, interdimensional was a little less plain than vanilla for the older model. However, the same couldn't be said for the others who were dragged into this situation. Even now that Rodimus secured them the good will of this world's leader of Cybertron (Good job kid), everyone was still on edge.

After the council meeting, they decided (her "majesty" decided more like it) that they would be treated and cared for, so that meant being rushed off to the medical wing. Though thankfully that didn't mean probing.

"So, nothing feels out of place?" the younger medic asked them.

"No, son, we're alright," Kup answers, before glancing at Rodimus, "Physically at least."

The younger medic nodded, "I do suppose that the emotional displacement will be the most harming symptom, from your condition. However, I must apologize that I don't know how to repair those kinds of wounds."

"Don't worry about it," Springer said.

The door opened and in walked Ratchet. This world's Ratchet, while clearly more on the grouchy side seemed to have the same gentle servos that any medic should have. Turns out this world's old autobot medic was not killed off in the war. In fact, he was not only the head of medical and scientific endeavors of the Iacon Palace, but a member of the high council himself. Even though there were obvious differences between them (mostly in frame, this Ratchet being bulkier), some small part of Kup was happy that his late friend made a good life for himself somewhere.

"Medix, how are the patients?" The head Medic said.

"Apart for the differences in physiology, they seem to be perfectly functional," Medix said.

Ratchet nodded, before turning to Rodimus, "I'm guessing you knew me in your world?"

"Only by reputation," the Young Prime said.

Ratchet hummed as if surprised by this information, "I apologize for being late, I needed to speak with Winglord Starscream."

"You two on good terms?" Kup asked.

"We've had our differences, but I consider him a friend," Ratchet said.

"What were you talking about?" Springer asked, earning a glare from Arcee.

Ratchet joined in the judgmental glare before turning his attention to a data pad and answering, "Not that's it's any of your business, but I was offering my condolences. His sparklings were killed in a recent ship crash on one of the moons."

"Oh," Springer said, his horrified expression on his faceplate, "Sorry."

"I take it, Starscream never defected to the Autobots in your war?" Ratchet said.

"He defected here?" Kup said.

"Yes, he did, during the twilight hours of it. Still, it was enough to get him a pardon from Optimus as long as he behaved," Ratchet sucked in a deep vent, "Now, I need your designations for the file?"

"Kup, Springer, Rodimus Prime, Arcee," Kup said, gesturing to himself and the others.

Ratchet's faceplate twisted, and his optics immediately went to the pink femme in the room, "Your designation is Arcee?"

Said femme nodded, "I take it you know me, and I'm very different."

The medic nodded, "Different is a good word for it."

Rodimus was once again walking through the extravagant halls, though his circuits might be on the verge of overheating. The anxiety he felt on the way to the council meeting was nothing compared to sticky black spider that was now squeezing at his spark. At least he wasn't wandering this lavish maze by himself, as Ultra Magnus was his escort. Even if it wasn't exactly the same bot that the young prime knew, Rodimus still felt a strange sense of comfort in the presence of the stern-faced bot.

Eventually, they arrived at another set of bejeweled doors. Rodimus swallowed, "So, is there any sort of rules I need to follow while in there?"

Ultra Magnus raised an optic ridge, "Well, as you are of equal rank, I suppose usual manners are necessary. Politeness is a must when speaking to her."

Rodimus nodded, "Any other advice?"

"Listen closely, her majesty is not the kind who likes to repeat herself or one who thinks tardiness is fashionable," Ultra Magnus knocked on one of the doors.

"Enter," came a voice from the other side of the doors

"My last bit of advice to you, Rodimus Prime, listen to her but maybe don't believe her words right away. Her majesty has a habit of embellishing them," the red, white, and blue turned to leave, his heavy metallic footsteps echoing throughout the empty halls.

After a nano-click, Rodimus nervously opened the door. Inside was a large private apartment; the doors seemingly entering into the living room. The ornaments and furniture looked like they were worth more than what was his old courters in autobot city, back on earth. However, while it was beautiful there didn't seem to be any theme or character, other than wealth, connecting the room's decoration. Large windows and glass door, which lead to a balcony, formed half of the walls. The other side of the room was a shining stair case, which to the right of was a portrait.

The young prime approached the painting, his intake dropped wide open. The image in front of him, was of his predecessor, Optimus Prime, and the family that was never meant be in his world. It wasn't the Optimus Prime he knew. His battle mask was off revealing the rarely seen intake. The optics weren't the same, they were a cybernetic grey ball with a glowing blue dot in the center, like a human's eye. The colors were the same, but once again all the plating was rounded out.

To the late prime's right was a femme. Her plating was salmon, with pale yellow details and face. Joyful blue optics rested in her fair faceplate, and pointed crests adorned her helm. The smile she wore, was wise but still held the remnants of youth at the same time. Finally cradled in her servos, was a young blue sparkling with a pair of the brightest of azure optics.

"Rodimus Prime," the soft and shallow voice called out.

That's when the young prime finally saw her. Standing on the stair case, was the grown Princess Nebula. The femme in front of him, could only be described as a stunning sight. Her slim blue frame with yellow and red detailing, made her appear delicate. The long shimmering cape and robes, along with the large golden crown she wore only amplified this effect, making her look like the ghost of a fallen goddess. The only imperfection in this artist's vision being her optics.

The azure optics that rested in her fair baby blue faceplate, were dull. They were round, looking more like her mother's rather than her father's, but they didn't shine. Not like the other cybertronians of this world optics did. They seemed almost fake.

"Princess Nebula," Rodimus said, feeling like his voice box was shorting out.

"You find anything interesting?" Princess Nebula said, pacing towards him. Her pede steps sounding light and delicate, like glass raindrops.

"Well, uhm," Rodimus looked back towards the portrait, before quickly glancing at her, "I didn't mean to snoop."

She chuckled, the sound ringing like delicate cracked bells, "It's no harm if you haven't broken anything," she looked up at the painting, "Daddy never liked this piece. He always said they made mother look too serious."

Rodimus nodded.

She looked back to him, "You know I was quite surprised when you showed the matrix. Never before had I'd seen such an act of vulnerability or power," she started to laugh, as if to seem casual but it made Rodimus feel everything but comfortable, "I didn't believe you, you know? I was ready to throw you and your associates out to scraplets for what I thought was a lie, but you proved me wrong."

"Well, thank you for giving me a chance," Rodimus said.

Princess Nebula laughed again, "You're precious," she started to walk towards the glass door, exiting the room to the balcony, "Visco? Oil cake? You must be starving."

"I could eat, but I'd rather not get over-charged, as tempting as it feels right now," Rodimus followed her out of the door, and on to the windy balcony.

Princess Nebula sat at a small table tucked away in a corner of the balcony, "I know that feeling. No rest for us rulers."

Rodimus joined the blue femme at the table, but he barely touched the offered fuel. He didn't want to get into the visco, as he knew that he would drink the whole glass and he didn't need to be intoxicated at the moment. As for the oil cake. The beautifully crafted dessert was far too sweet for his taste.

"So, how did the matrix come into your possession?" Princess Nebula asked.

Rodimus took a moment to answer. What could he say? Oh, I got the version of your dad from my world killed and then it picked me in the stomach of a giant planet eater. Yeah, that would go over well.

Thankfully, Princess Nebula picked up on his discomfort.

"You don't need to hide things from me. I already know my father is dead where you're from, otherwise he'd still be prime instead of you," She paused, "I do apologize if I brought up some distasteful memories. It's just it's been so long since I witness that relic's power."

Rodimus raised an optic ridge, "What are you talking about. Didn't it choose you? Don't you, have it?"

"Sadly no. It died along with Daddy," she said looking out at the balcony's view, "It all happened so quickly. One moment it was party, and the next it was an invasion. He died on that battle field. Leaving me to take on the role of prime."

"But you don't have the matrix."

"That's why I don't have the title."

"But you're still in power."

"Well, I was the natural choice of course. Schooled and bred for leadership. There's no doubt that the matrix would've chosen me if it had survived. It was my destiny. Just as it is yours. I mean the Matrix wouldn't have chosen you for any other reason than you were born for it."

"You really believe that?"

"Of course."

"So, you've never felt like that you weren't worthy of this?"

"No, of course not. This is my primus given birthright, why should I feel inadequate for it. Cybertron was put into my servos, because they were the right ones."

Rodimus wasn't sure why, but that line felt wrong, and he didn't want to continue with this subject further.

"So, how did your mother take his death, and you're taking over?" the young prime asked.

"Oh, her? Mother was killed in a terrorist attack, when I was nothing but a bitlit. Quite a tragic end to the great warrior Elita-1 if you ask some bots."

"Some bots? Wasn't her death tragic to you?"

"I never knew her, so I can't be much of a judge."

"But if you did judge her?"

"I'd say her death was pretty pathetic. Especially for someone of her stature," she vented harshly, "So, enough about me, what of you and your world?" her dull optics looked at him, expectant.

"We're not exactly at the level of peace you are at yet, but we're getting there."

"Peace? Don't tell me you're still fighting that exhausting civil war in your world. Things won't change until your done with it."

"Sort of off and on, at times."

Princess Nebula hummed, "Don't worry, if your world takes a similar route to ours, you won't have to worry about those vile Decepticons once you drive them off."

"Drive them off?"

"They started a war, tore our planet apart, and then left the rest of us to clean up after their tantrum. Exile is the tamest of punishments for their actions in my opinion."

"What if they came back to cybertron?"

"Lock them up or drive them off again. I can't take a chance on inviting another war to my people who have just gotten themselves settled after all the fighting."

That did not sit right with Rodimus at all. It made something in his chest plate churn and twist.

"So, is there any specific reason, as to why your world was looking into interdimensional travel?" She asked, swirling her glass of visco.

"No," Rodimus said, shortly, "This was a complete accident."

"Really?"

"Well, we didn't plan to fly into the random rift in time and space we found."

"I suppose your story is believable."

"Does that mean you could possibly help us get home?"

"Our science division, while not specializing in this certain situation, is still well equipped to go further into this field of study. Though, it might take a moment or two."

Rodimus nodded.

Springer was exhausted.

He had been at fancy formal events and emergency meetings all day. Then thrown into another dimension, and ended up going another emergency meeting. When he finally got a chance to recharge, his friend just had to go on a walk and take way too long to come back. So, the lime green triple changer was now wandering the halls of a palace, at an unprimusly-joor of the night, looking for his friend.

Eventually, he found the maroon and orange prime, whom seemed to be wandering as aimlessly as Springer was.

"Hey," Springer said.

"Huh? Oh, hi Springer," Rodimus said.

"What are you doing up?"

"Couldn't recharge."

"Couldn't recharge? Seriously? This might be the nicest place we've ever stayed in. My room here is bigger than my apartment back home."

"It's not the rooms."

"Then what's going on?"

"I don't know, I…" Rodimus sighed.

"Is this about the princess? 'Cause you've been quiet ever since you came back from your meeting with her."

"Maybe."

"Oh? Is she pretty?" Springer teased, although he really was interested in the mysterious figure that was this world's prime.

"Not in the attractive sense."

"Oh…Well, I guess even a princess can't get everything right. You, okay?"

"I don't know. I just don't feel right."

"You think you need a medic."

"No, it's not that it's…I don't know."

"You know that's not helpful at all, right?"

"Yep."

"Come on, recharge will help your processer work out all of its kinks."

"Maybe you're right."

With that, Springer threw his arm around his friend's shoulder plating, patting the young prime with his servo. The two mechs began to walk back to their given rooms. However, going back to bed turned out to be a lot harder than it should have been. The halls of the palace were so long and so large that it wasn't long before they realized how easy it was to get lost in them.

"Maybe it was the left corridor, I don't remember," Rodimus sighed.

"We're never going back to bed, are we?" Springer groaned, his helm whirling left and right looking at the halls. Eventually, seeing a sliver of light coming out of a room in the hall on the left.

The triple changer's faceplate perked up, "Hey! Look, someone still up." He started towards the hall.

"Springer, wait! Just because their light is on doesn't mean they want to be disturbed," Rodimus said following the lime mech.

"I swear that matrix made your plating stiffer," Springer grumbled.

Bumblebee paced around the berth room as if he was trying to wear a rut into the floor. His frame tense like a taunt rubber band. Servos clasped tightly behind his back. A strained look on his faceplate.

"We can't wait any longer," Bumblebee said, "We need to do it now."

"I don't believe that is the best course of action right now, soldier," Ultra Magnus said, from the other side of the room, where he stood glaring out the window.

"I agree with Ultra Magnus," Starscream pipped up, from where he was lounging on his berth, "I understand your struggle right now, Bumblebee, but acting on your emotions will not help at the moment. If I learned only one thing from all the failed take over plans while in the decepticons, is that when plotting a coup timing is everything."

"And how would you know that, none of your plans ever worked," Bumblebee snapped.

Starscream snorted and shook his head, "And my wife thought I was the drama king."

"Will you two, stop it, already?" Ratchet interjected, "While I do agree that the recent developments are something not to ignore. I don't think we should pull the trigger on our plans just, yet."

"We can't just leave this piece of junk where she is," Bumblebee said.

"As much as I agree with you," Ultra Magnus said again, "She currently has un-limited access to a room of the most powerful relics on the planet. While we have barely managed to have kept our optics and audio receptors on the inside. The princess currently has the advantage. We need to stick to our plans."

"Those plans were made when she didn't have a prime on her side to activate said relics. There nothing holding her back now," Bumblebee said.

"All the more reason to be cautious. Rushing in won't help anyone right now," Ratchet shook helm, "Besides, we don't even know if his matrix is compatible with the relics."

"We don't know if it isn't either," Bumblebee sighed, running a servo down his faceplate, before turning towards the seeker in the room, "How much longer can you stay in Iacon without it looking suspicious?"

"Not much, the games may have bought me a little more time, but eventually I'll need to return to Vos," Starscream said, "Has anyone been in contact with the others?"

Bumblebee shook his head, "Last I heard, Wheeljack was going to meet up with Whirl on a deep space rig and he convinced Bulkhead and Arcee to join him."

"I am not shocked Bulkhead and Arcee decided to go," Ultra Magnus said, "Their sparklings are still young after all."

Strascream chuckled, "Oh, the age of their young has nothing to do with their decision. They're parents, no matter how old their children are they will always want their little ones safe. If you want proof to my claim, Knockout and Breakdown pulled the same disappearing act even though Wildbreak is all grown up."

"Speaking of Knockout and Breakdown. Do you know where they are?" Ratchet asked.

"Like I said they jumped ship once the princess was starting to get on their cases about their histories during the war, but they'll come back the moment we call," Starscream said.

"Same for Bulkhead, Wheeljack, and Arcee," Bumblebee sighed, "You know, maybe it's time we tell the others what's going on. Find out what they know. Because, we clearly can't just act on the current information we have."

There was quick three taps on the window into the outside, which was then followed three slow taps, before ending with another three quick taps. Everyone quieted and turned toward the window. Ultra Magnus being closest to the glass, opened the large see-through frame, allowing a large yet slim dark figure to enter.

"Soundwave," Ultra Magnus greeted with a nod, to which the Slenderman like mech returned.

"Punctual as usual. You have any gossip from the bar?" Starscream asked.

Soundwave didn't answer the question. The faceless helm only turned towards the door, and raised a servo.

"Why are you pointing at the door?" Bumblebee raised an optic ridge.

"Why are you pointing at the door?" Commander Bumblebee said, from inside the room.

Rodimus and Springer shared a glance…before darting down the hall.

"What was that?" Springer asked.

"I don't know," Rodimus said.

"We need to tell the princess!"

"Tell her?!" Rodimus's voice went up with surprise.

"Don't tell me that wasn't the first thought in your processor! We just found a conspiracy that's planning to take her out! She needs to know!"

"Springer I…" A sharp burst of pain burned the back of his helm.

What happened next was vague and went by quickly. Rodimus felt himself fall to the floor. He heard Springer cry out in surprise and then pain. Before the world was consumed by black.

A/N:

Hello everyone! This took me way to long! Pls don't be mad at me. I had to get work done on my teeth, and for some reason the numbing stuff they gave me didn't work, and I ended up feeling them drilling out my tooth. So that was fun…

Anyway, see ya'll next time!