Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers nor their Characters

The room was dark, cold and stark, bare of any items save for a berth, table and chair. Orion couldn't complain, however. They were in the middle of a war. Supplies were low and rationed between the members of the crew and this particular room had not been lived in in some time.

Orion was slowly adjusting to the Nemesis. After his arrival and introduction to the crew, Megatronus had shown the 'bot around the ship on a personal tour. The Nemesis, like his new room, was cold, dark, and bare. The whole ship was rather dreary looking, with its dark colored halls, and little lighting. Somehow Orion felt as though the atmosphere was not aiding the moral of the troops stationed on the ship. Unless the atmosphere reflected to moral of the troops?

Speaking of which, Orion found the soldiers onboard rather peculiar. They were identical, each wearing the same style of armor. The lack of individuality was strange, escpecially when they were compared to the intricately detailed and flamboyant armor of the higher officials.

After the tour, short and not a complete walk of the Nemesis, Megatronus had shown Orion to his room. It was not extravagantly large, but it was larger than most on the ship and reserved for officers of the vessel. It was here that Megatronus had left him, allowing Orion to deal with his own thoughts for the time being.

Confusion and worry were an understatement. It was rather unnerving to online one sol only to realize vorns had passed. Waking up on an alien planet did not help much either. These factors Orion knew he could overcome easily with time and a little more knowledge.

It was the war that unnerved him.

He now had enemies he knew nothing of. He was on an alien planet he knew nothing of. He was in the midst of a war he did not know the cause of.

All he knew was what Megatronus had told him, that it had been caused by disagreements between the two current factions. But over what?

Orion had been told little of the other faction so far, besides that the words 'Autobot' and 'mortal enemy' were the same. These same Autobots were the apparent cause of the abandonment of Cybertron, something else he knew nothing about.

Trying to push the thoughts of a dead Cybertron away, Orion instead focused on the moment when he first awakened on the planet Earth, attempting to see if he could remember anything of the gap in his memory between Cybertron and this planet. The large, hollow cavern he had gained consciousness in was strange, and then there was the appearance of three Cybertronians he did not recognize- Autobots.

He almost expected himself to feel immediate distaste for the bots of the other faction, yet he did not. He dismissed it as his old habits; as a data-clerk who loved learning, he wanted to know everything before making an opinion. He needed to know about the Autobots, their habits, goals, deeds and pasts before he could see them as evil.

It was the three Autobots in the cavern that were presenting the most prominent confusion for Orion. They had seemed to know him, calling him by a different name. He did not know who this 'Optimus' was or why they referred to him as such. His loose theory was that it had been a ploy, but why would they have used a designation he did not recognize?

Thus was one part of Orion's confusion.

The second was the smaller, yellow Autobot. He appeared to be the youngest of the three, most likely a scout based on his frame model. Orion would have not been so troubled by the appearance of the youngling had he not looked at Orion desperately with those large, pleading optics. It was the way he had been calling to Orion, calling for his-

Orion's thoughts were halted when he received a ping from outside his new residence. Someone was waiting.

"So all we need to do is get the Matrix back?"

"I don't know, Bulkhead."

"And give it to Optimus, right?"

"I don't know."

"It'll give Optimus his memories back, shouldn't it?"

"I don't know!" Ratchet snapped, patience having finally broken. For the past several days, the Autobots had been searching for a way to bring back their leader, but they had no success so far. They were searching the skies for the Nemesis and for Optimus' comm. link, but there was no sign of either yet. They were still hopeful but patience was wearing thin and Bulkhead's constant questions were only driving the point home that they knew little to nothing about what happened or what to do.

In his anger, Ratchet turned away from the computer he was working at to look at Bulkhead, ready to lash out at the Wrecker, but Arcee beat him to it.

"Bulkhead, we don't know anything!" Arcee yelled. "The Matrix wasn't in Unicron's spark chamber. We have no idea what happened in there! We don't know what happened to the knowledge of the Primes, it could be lost forever! Pit, the Matrix could be dead for all we know!"

Ratchet knew that Bulkhead's reply was going just as fuming. It was in Bulkhead's nature to reciprocate equally; fight fire with fire, match force with force, and meet anger with anger. His response was no less irate.

"I'm sorry I'm just trying to help! It's been nearly two weeks, and we haven't done anything! We're waiting here on our afts while the Decepticons have Optimus and are probably planning to crush us!"

"Not everything's about action, Bulkhead!" Arcee's reply was scathing and bitter. "We have been doing something! Maybe if you actually helped we could have found Optimus by now!"

"It's not like what you're doing has actually helped! We've just been sitting here doing nothing!"

The rest of the room, sans the two fighting, was quite. The children had fallen silent, eyes watching the verbal battle from their perch on the balcony, as did as Bumblebee from his seat on the floor, sad and doorwings drooping. Fights like these were occurring far too often for anyone's liking; tensions were high with Optimus gone. They were already outnumbered with Optimus, but with their leader, the one who inspired them, the one who they believed in, the one they would risk their lives for, gone, things seemed utterly hopeless. The long they went without Prime, the more likely they were to fail.

Thus was the source of their tension.

However, Ratchet decided that this particular fight was finished. Even with their previous efforts having no success, he had one more ace up his sleeve, so to say. He turned back towards the monitor.

"Stop, you two. This isn't helping." He ordered, voice neutral.

"But-" Bulkhead began protesting but Ratchet cut him off, turning around again.

"But, nothing. You think an old mech like me can't do anything?" He asked. Bulkhead fumbled for a reply.

"Well, we haven't been-" the Wrecker was cut off again, this time by a glare by the medic. "Um, no…?"

"We are not hopeless yet, Bulkhead." Again, Ratchet turned to the monitor, this time pulling up a communication cue on the screen. There was a gasp of 'Really?' from Miko and even Bumblebee seemed to perk up a bit. Ratchet couldn't help feel sorry for the youngling; he knew of the relationship between Optimus and Bumblebee.

"What are you doing, Ratch?" Arcee asked, joining the medic in front of the moniter. He could tell that she was still angry, though she appeared to have better reigned in her emotions. "Who are you contacting?"

"The one 'bot who can find Optimus."

A/N: Short, but this is really all I have time for now . I've been wanting to do this for a while (since the TF:P season one finale) and I recently had inspiration to write it. Then my inspiration was crushed under the mass of work I had to complete. I'm hoping to get more chapters up soon (apparently all my Art History class is good for is drawing and writing).

Reviews are loved!