"Every one of us is, in the cosmic perspective, precious. If a human disagrees with you, let him live. In a hundred billion galaxies, you will not find another."

~Carl Sagan, Cosmos   

>>·<<

When Ratchet went to check on June for Jack's sake he found her right where she said she would be - on the flight deck, next to the Predacon kennels. The femme was in her beast mode, curled up with her optics shuttered and chest rising and falling slowly, perhaps in deep recharge. He was only slightly surprised by this; Jack had mentioned his mother was having difficulties adjusting, perhaps even coming to terms with what had happened to her. This mode was probably the most comfortable and natural state for her at the moment. The medic was no psychiatrist, but he could try to help her.

"June?" He called quietly. The woman stirred and opened her optics, shifting and transforming into her bipedal mode.

"Ratchet," she smiled, albeit tiredly. "Jack send you my way?"

"Yes," He carried with him his medical kit, unsure if she would have been willing to sit in Knock Out's medical bay or if she preferred remaining outside. "Would you be comfortable with a physical check-up?"

"Sure," she gave her consent, rubbing her helm. "But I feel that my issues are more mental. It's . . . hard to explain."

"Well, you can do your best to come up with something while I give you a once-over," the doctor set down his kit and opened it up, grabbing several tools before approaching her. The procedure was very similar to that of a pediatrician or family physician, with him checking out her optics and audio receptors while also taking notes on her spark and ventilation habits. Her energon levels were well-maintained, as the matured body did not have to go through the reservation process. 

June thought for a long time, trying to put what she was feeling into words. "I guess I'm . . . more confused than anything," she confessed. "It's like I have . . . three people in my head. Myself, Ripclaw, and some weird combination of the two."

Ratchet raised an optic ridge. "Ripclaw?"

"The . . . previous owner," the femme cringed a little. "Humans have this theory, well, it's a little more than just a theory now, that our memories are imbedded directly into our DNA. Humans who have had organ or tissue transplants sometimes report feeling the same cravings or emotions that the donor had felt. I think with Ripclaw, it's the same thing. Her CNA contains memories of who she was before the Great Cataclysm; and I wouldn't say she is . . . fully present in my mind. Just a sensation." She shook her helm. "God, I sound insane."

"Actually, you are making quite a bit of sense," Ratchet tinkered a little with a tool, making sure it worked before he began to inspect her armor for wear or tear. "Predaking, I believe, had something similar."

She nodded slowly. "Yes . . . I remember him telling me something like that."

The Autobot medic vented slowly. "What do you remember from your time as a Predacon, June?"

Her optics looked towards the ground. "I remember all of it," she whispered. "From waking up to falling into the Omega Lock, I know it all. It's fuzzy, though. Do you think it has something to do with how they treated my memories?"

"Possibly," Ratchet agreed. "If your retrograde memory circuits were inhibited, then they may have affected how you formed anterograde memories as well. Is that part of the problem?"

June sighed. "I don't know," she was becoming increasingly frustrated with herself. "I just . . . please don't take this the wrong way, Ratchet, but . . . I can't hate Megatron, or really Shockwave for that matter. I want to, but Ripclaw and the two of us together cannot seem to do it. I'm not feeling what I should be and it's driving me insane."

"That can happen, sometimes," Ratchet spoke calmly. "It's a phenomenon that happens a lot with 'bots captured and treated fairly during wartime. They find themselves sympathizing with their captors."

"But they aren't aware of it," June pointed out. "I am fully aware that I shouldn't feel this way. But I am. I feel like I am doing this against my will and I can't take it."

Ratchet allowed for there to be silence for a little while, trying to formulate his question in a manner that did not further upset the Predacon femme. "When you, ah, stood up for Megatronus on the bridge; was that voluntary?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "I just felt sick and tired of everyone - mostly Starscream - attacking him. I needed . . . I needed to protect him."

The medic paused, cocking an optic ridge at her. He received a small glare in return, June not appreciating his probable judgement, though the medic was not intimidated. It was incredibly odd, though it explained June's behavior before she was aware of her human origins; every time Megatron was endangered she was immediately at his side, rescuing him and threatening to kill any 'bot that made an attempt on his life. She followed his orders to the T and appreciated the rewards he had showered her with when she had done a good job. 

"I may have to talk with Shockwave," he replied slowly. "As I am unfamiliar with Predacon behaviors; but I would not be suprised, June, if you and Ripclaw are now, essentially, one and the same. Clearly, you are June Darby, and you will always be, but some aspects of the Predacon whose body you now inhabit will become integrated with you. Perhaps it is a part of Ripclaw which seeks to protect Megatronus?"

"Maybe," she shook her helm, letting out a frustrated vent. "I just want all of this to make sense." 

"It will," he promised, though he was unsure if she believed him. "It may take some time, but you will get better, June."

>>·<<

The amount of synthetic energon initially produced was enough to revive Cybertron's core. Once that was taken care of, and a healthy blue glow settled across the entire planet, the Nemesis embarked on a journey around the planet, hovering over cities long destroyed by war and waiting patiently for Ratchet and Shockwave to combine their synthetic formulas together to mass-produce more energon.

During this time, Optimus Prime showed Megatronus the events which took place on Earth, the latter watching with both morbid fascination and debilitating guilt. Though he was not fond of organics, he certainly was aware they had no quarrel with this civil war, and yet Megatron had selfishly used them for his own devices.

Optimus made the decision to not reveal everything about the human experimentation to Megatronus, most notably the part where his spark shard resided in Jackson Darby, but he gave the gladiator a general idea of what had happened. It came as a bit of a shock to him when he realized four Cybertronians were not really such - and one in particular technically not even a Cybertronian at all - and as soon as their session had come to a close the mech requested he see the organics and their perspective of the war.

Jack was made aware of Optimus' decision to keep some information concealed first, and due to his inexperience with the cortical psychic patch he did not want to participate for fear of giving something away. Miko was more than willing, though it was also a concern that she would simply overshare, a risk Optimus did not want to take. Rafael flat-out refused, still terrified of the gladiator. That left the decision up to June.

Megatronus was aware that they had a history. Firstly, they had spoken via "telephone" (whatever that meant), where he taunted and verbally abused her. Secondly, her capture, where he had faked her death and took her prisoner on the Nemsis, miraculously having not hurt her fragile organic body in the process. And finally, he had ordered Shockwave to transfer her mind into that of a Predacon, essentially forcing her to become his loyal beast.

All of this, naturally, was derived from the knowledge that Optimus Prime possessed, but the fine details could be filled in by the astute gladiator.

"He wishes to understand," Optimus spoke quietly to June, who was currently in the laboratory with them. Megatronus kept his distance, attempting to ignore the fact that the eldest male former-human was attempting to drill a hole into his helm with his gaze alone. "Megatronus wants to know what the war was like for you, a civilian and organic lifeform."

June crossed her arms, nervously shifting from pede to pede. "Is there . . . a risk, with the cortical psychic patch?" She asked, not quite sure herself what she was asking.

"Nothing will be tampered with," the Prime promised. June looked into his kind blue optics, chewing her bottom lip plate briefly before her shoulders unwound.

"Okay," she agreed, albeit with some reluctance. "What, exactly, is he wanting to see?"

"Any aspect of war you are willing to show him," Optimus gently helped her onto the slab, Megatronus moving slowly and in a non-threatening manner. It somewhat baffled her that the gladiator was so reserved, unlike his normally volatile self. The change was unexpected, but, she admitted, it was nice. 

"I will do my best not to pry," the gladiator finally spoke to her. "Sometimes, memories may be shown against their will; if you show any signs of distress I will terminate the connection."

June felt an unfamiliar sense of relief. "Thank you," she whispered before lying down. 

Jack stood close by, hovering protectively next to his mother while Optimus helped her plug into the cortical psychic patch, the mechling uneasy as he watched her optics close. For the sake of privacy the Autobot leader did not activate the typical videofeed that would pop up during a patch, and instead quietly announced he would be activating the device before doing so.

June closed her optics, and remembered.