"They're parasites," Garfield said, his voice taking on an edge that made both Skyfire and Soundwave lean forward unconsciously.
"They're waiting for us to grow strong enough that when they finally strike, the meal is worth consuming."
"We'll be so focused on our success, our inevitable victory, that we won't notice them fattening themselves inside us."
He crunched another cube, the sound oddly ominous.
"And when we're at our peak? When we've built something worth having? That's when they'll strike."
"And everything we've built becomes theirs. All our effort, all our sacrifice, just the incubation period for their new bodies."
Skyfire's optics dimmed with realization. "Teacher... what do we do?"
Garfield considered the question, his tail curling thoughtfully.
"A fortress is impregnable from the outside," he said finally. "But from within?"
He shook his head. "Different story entirely. So we do two things."
He held up one claw. "First, we play their game better than they do. We send our own sleepers into their ranks."
"Infiltrators who'll report back, who'll warn us before any strike lands."
A second claw rose. "Second and this is critical you two will establish a secret intelligence organization."
"One dedicated to vetting every new recruit, identifying every hidden threat, and quietly eliminating every moth that tries to eat through our fabric."
Soundwave's optics blazed with sudden understanding. The answer had been so simple and so elegant.
Why hadn't he seen it?
Both Transformers stared at Garfield with something approaching reverence. The teacher had, in moments, solved problems they'd wrestled with for cycles.
Good, Garfield thought, mildly amused. Fanboy Transformers develop faster.
"Go. Work. I suggest division of responsibilities, Skyfire handles internal review, screening recruits from within."
"Soundwave, you manage external intelligence, tracking threats beyond our walls."
Skyfire inclined his head. "Thank you, teacher. Your wisdom guides us."
"We are illuminated by your counsel." Soundwave echoed.
Garfield's eye twitched.
Wisdom. Illuminated.
The king hated those words.
"Go," he repeated, waving them away before they could utter more platitudes. "Shoo, work."
Outside, Skyfire and Soundwave exchanged glances, then moved with purpose.
Skyfire would establish internal review. A filter for every spark seeking entry, invisible but absolute.
Soundwave would build external intelligence. Eyes beyond their borders, ears in every shadow.
Names came later, when they returned to Garfield for blessing.
Garfield considered Skyfire's organization. "BFI. Bureau of Internal Fidelity."
Soundwave's turn. "CIA. Cybertronian Intelligence Agency."
He fixed them both with a hard stare. "Skyfire, your scope is internal only. You audit our own and you identify threats within"
"Soundwave, external intelligence is yours. Every threat beyond our walls."
A pause.
"But when you find internal threats, Soundwave? You hand them to Skyfire for apprehension."
"When external threats require both perspectives? You work together, no territorial disputes."
"You cooperate, or you fail separately."
"Yes, teacher."
"Yes, teacher."
They departed and Garfield settled back into comfortable idleness.
✦••┈┈••✦••┈┈••✦
Days passed. Cycles blurred.
Orion Pax and Megatron buzzed across Cybertron like mechanical bees, gathering followers, oblivious to the intricate shadow-dance unfolding beneath their notice.
They were too busy doing to perceive the preparations being made for their protection.
But Bumblebee noticed.
The young scout appeared regularly at Garfield's chosen resting spots, questions tumbling from his vocalizer.
About strategy. About leadership. About the nature of sparks and the weight of command.
Garfield answered patiently, watching something more develop behind those eager optics.
A good student, Garfield mused. One day, he'll surpass everyone's expectations.
Bumblebee absorbed lessons like a sponge absorbed solvent.
Each visit left him slightly different, slightly more aware, slightly more himself.
And inevitably, Garfield's existence ceased being secret.
Core members learned of the orange feline who counseled both factions. The strange creature whose words carried weight with leaders.
Whose insights shaped policy from shadows.
They came, drawn by curiosity and rumor.
Among them, one day, arrived an unlikely pair.
Starscream.
And beside him, someone who'd expended considerable effort to appear otherwise. Disguised features with an energy signature carefully modulated.
Sentinel Prime, Garfield recognized immediately. Clever disguise, almost convincing.
The two arrivals took one look at each other and went still. Mutual antipathy crackled between them like static discharge.
They stood before Garfield, locked in silent contest, neither willing to look away first.
Garfield watched them for a long moment.
"Ahem. Enough. You're here to see me, not to stare at each other like you're on a bad first date." He settled back, tail curling.
"Whatever problems you think you have, whatever brings you here, talk."
Let's see if I can't twist you both into useful fools.