Thanks to LadyIronhide for her help and encouragement :D

"If your actions inspire others to dream more, learn more, do more and become more, you are a leader." –John Quincy Adams

Ironhide idled in front of the large hangar door as it slowly slid open. He waited until it was just high enough to fit under before he rumbled through and sped off under the dark blue sky of early morning.

With the Cybertronian sun still far below the horizon, Ironhide's jet-black alt mode was almost invisible. He drove swiftly across the barren landscape, moving at speeds that belied the weight of his frame and leaving only a fleeting trail of dust behind him. Even the tracks from his heavy tread were quickly erased by the prevailing winds.

The Badlands surrounding Kaon were vast indeed. However, the battle-scarred warrior was more than familiar with the rugged terrain. He knew every mountain, every rocky outcropping, every pebble, and he could recognize them all with hardly a passing glance. He could probably even navigate the region using nothing more than the feeling of the ground under his tires, his missions placed him there so often.

This time, he was to meet up with Shockwave and a few other Decepticon scientists in Tarn. It was a drive that would take him the entire orn to complete. He had not been told what the purpose of the meeting was, but he assumed it would be something that required his skill in the field of weapons technology.

Ironhide's considerable military prowess had also helped earn him a high rank in Megatron's forces, and as a result, he collaborated with some of the top Decepticon innovators on a regular basis. He had worked with not only Shockwave, the reputedly-mad scientist, but also the explosives expert Dreadwing, and even the self-absorbed medic Knock Out from time to time. Like the three of them, Ironhide had sided with the Decepticons at the beginning of the war.

Megatron had been the first mech in decavorns to challenge the caste system and propose a better future for Cybertron. The former gladiator's revolutionary ideas had captured the attention of all those who heard them, and when the proponents of a new political system had split into two factions, most stayed with Megatron for that very reason.

Most, but not all. There were some who joined that rogue faction known as the Autobots.

Yet as unlikely as it might seem, Ironhide did not wish to fight the Autobots. He was a warrior, yes, but his motivation had always been to protect life. The Autobots did not seem inherently malicious, so the conflict with them made him feel a bit... uneasy.

Of course he would never admit that to anyone. Decepticons did not express such emotions, did not show weakness in any way. Especially not commanders like himself.

No, the weapons specialist would not share his concerns. He chose instead to ponder over them as he traveled alone across the uninhabited territory.

But the region held no answers. The only thing Ironhide was sure of was that he was loyal to his cause, and that meant he would fight against the Autobots—until there was a peace agreement.

He did not know why the two factions had not yet come to an understanding. The Autobots supposedly had the same vision for Cybertronian society as Megatron did, namely a free Cybertron where every individual had the right to choose for themselves. But if that was true, why did they oppose Megatron?

What did they think they were fighting for?

Primus knows, Ironhide thought dismissively as he adjusted his speed to accommodate the increasingly rocky ground. Even though the terrain did not pose much of a challenge for him—his alt mode was quite suitable for it—he would have rather traveled by ship. He could certainly make better time that way.

But ships were easier to detect on radar. And according to the Autobot-Decepticon rules of engagement, which had been agreed to by both sides, armed ships were not allowed in neutral zones.

All Decepticon ships were armed. So he was driving.

Not that he was supposed to be in the neutral zone. The route he had been given only bordered it, but he was cutting across to save time. Why his superiors had chosen such a circuitous route in the first place was a mystery. They did it every time, and usually Ironhide followed it anyway, but for this particular mission he had decided not to. After all, it was highly unlikely that he would run into any Autobots. They did not usually get so close to Decepticon territory, and had never been seen in the area that he was currently traversing.

Probably because there was nothing important to be found there, nor was there anything scenic to look at that would make the journey even mildly interesting. Not to someone who had seen it all countless times before, anyway. Everything started to look the same after a while.

Turning his attention inward, Ironhide began perusing the data files he had on the Autobots. He had comprehensive information about almost all of them. Or at the very least, all of the important ones—Soundwave's surveillance work only focused on what was useful—and even though Ironhide was taking a shortcut, he would still have plenty of time to review the files. He always found it sensible to stay current with the latest information.

The file he was reading at that moment was not new, but it was one of the ones he found the most baffling. No matter how many times he read it, he still did not understand it. Not at all.

The new Prime was a librarian. A data clerk from the Hall of Records! Before his association with Megatron—or Megatronus, as he was called at the time—no one had even heard of the mech. How could he possibly have what it takes to lead even a small army?

Let alone an entire civilization? If there had not been a war, that was what the librarian Orion Pax would be doing instead. Leading all of Cybertron.

Actually, the red and blue mech was not known as Orion Pax anymore. He had been given a different designation when the High Council named him Prime. What was it again? Frag, Ironhide just read the file...

Optimus. That was it.

Not that it really made much difference—no matter what the Prime was called, he was still a librarian in his spark—but for Primus' sake, was everyone going to change their designation whenever they assumed a new function? Ironhide certainly hoped not. He had already updated all of his data files. Twice.

No one else better change their designation anytime soon... The thought of updating his files a third time was almost as irritating as the sand clinging relentlessly to his fenders.

All of a sudden, Ironhide's musings were brought to an abrupt halt as his scanners detected the threat. A landmine was buried just below the ground in front of him.

Warnings flashed across his HUD and he swerved instantly, his tires kicking up a flurry of sand, but it was already too late. The device detonated with enough force to flip his alt mode and throw it into the air. The explosion also stunned him and he instinctively transformed, just finishing the sequence before crashing hard into the ground.

/* * */

In the command center of the Autobot base in Iacon, Jazz was alone as he attentively watched the monitors in front of him. It was a boring job, staring at the screens all orn and waiting for something to happen, but somebody needed to keep an optic on the Decepticons. At least the silver minibot could take some solace in the fact that his duties were not ordinarily so monotonous.

Usually, the Autobots' head of intelligence would be spending his time doing things far more interesting. Things like interrogating prisoners, hacking into encrypted data networks, intercepting private comm links and then impersonating the mech that was supposed to be on the other end, or whatever else he needed to do to obtain useful information from the Decepticons. Those were Jazz's typical duties, which in reality were not typical at all. Every time was different.

Unlike the screens in front of him, which had not changed by a single pixel in the last six joors. He had even rebooted the terminal to make sure it was still sending updates to the monitors. Of course it was—there was just nothing to update.

Jazz really hoped he would not be assigned to monitor duty more often. He almost considered asking Ratchet if it was possible for a mech's processor to glitch from an overload of boredom if said mech had to... Wait, what was that? In sector 242?

It looked the same as all the other sectors, but Jazz knew it had flashed for an astrosecond. He had seen it out of the corner of his optic. Or... had he? Could his mind be playing tricks on him?

Maybe he really should ask Ratchet...

And get a wrench thrown at his helm? No way! Jazz instead typed a few commands into the terminal, instructing it to set aside a recording of the sector in question over the last breem. He could review it later, but first he wanted to make sure he did not miss anything else that might suddenly appear on the screen.

Several more breems passed and nothing happened. Jazz sighed quietly, starting to wonder if he had just been seeing things. Another moment passed uneventfully before he decided to play the recording. He watched it closely, but there was nothing... No, there was something! He had seen right!

It looked like... an explosion?

What was out there that could have caused that? There was... well, not much of anything out there.

Jazz played the recording again, this time pausing it on the frame with the clearest view. That still left him with a slightly blurry satellite image, but it was the best he would get.

What I need now, the silver minibot thought, is an expert opinion. He opened a comm link to the mech who he thought might be able to provide it.

"Hey, Wheeljack? You know a lot about explosives, right?"

"You could say that," Wheeljack replied. "Why?"

"I got something on one of the monitors, and I was wondering if you'd take a look at it."

"No problem. I'll be there in a breem."

Jazz continued to study the image until he heard Wheeljack enter the room, then he looked up as the white, red, and green engineer strolled in and moved to stand beside him. Wheeljack had not wasted any time, arriving in less than a breem.

"All right, Jazz. What did you find?"

"I'm not really sure. I was hoping you'd know." Jazz pressed a key, replaying the surveillance data. "Picked this up in a neutral zone. Looks like an explosion if you ask me, but it could've been caused by anything."

Wheeljack studied the footage carefully. "No, not anything. You're right that it's an explosion, but I can tell you it's not from a personal weapon. It would have had to have come from something bigger, like a ship or mining explosives."

Jazz considered that for a moment. "Either way, it's 'Cons doing things they shouldn't be doing. They're not supposed to have any ships out there. Or explosives."

"Yeah, like that ever stopped them." Wheeljack leaned closer to the screen before asking his colleague, "Are there any 'Con signals in the area?"

"I'm not picking up any."

"Hmm... That might just mean they're hiding them from us."

"I was thinking exactly the same thing." Jazz opened another comm link. "Optimus?"

Optimus's deep voice crackled over the private channel. "Go ahead, Jazz."

"We've got possible Decepticon activity in the Badlands. Permission to send someone to investigate?"

"Permission granted. Do we have any Autobots within driving distance of the location?"

Jazz looked up the locations of all Autobots currently on patrol. "Yeah, actually we do. Let me contact 'Bee."

/* * */

Bumblebee's patrol had so far been uneventful, not that he was going to complain about that. Being in Autobot territory and not finding any signs of Decepticons was definitely a good thing. The fact that his team also had eyes in the sky helped to allay any fears the young scout may have had about missing something important. While he was good at what he did, the truth was that he had a lot of ground to cover.

Bumblebee continued driving along the empty stretch of road. It was in a region that he patrolled often, although to prevent his movements from becoming too predictable, he took different routes each time. This one was particularly devoid of other mechs, but he did not feel alone. He could see the skyline of Crystal City in the distance.

It reminded him of why he had chosen to become an Autobot. The beautiful city was—like many other places on Cybertron—teeming with innocent civilians that needed to be protected from Megatron's tyrannic rule. Bumblebee was eager to learn everything he could to help keep them safe. As many of them as possible.

Maybe someday, the young mech sincerely hoped, I'll be skilled enough to join the warrior class... But he could worry about that when the time came. His primary focus had to be the present because his teammates, and Primus knows how many neutral Cybertronians, needed him to perform his duties to the best of his ability. Even though he was only a scout, others' lives could still depend on him.

It may have seemed like a heavy burden for such a young mech, but Bumblebee would not have wanted it to be any other way. It was the only way he could help save Cybertron. And besides, his brothers-in-arms were always there to offer him support when he needed it. They were truly like family.

Bumblebee was just about to head back to base when his internal comm pinged, signaling an incoming transmission from base. He accepted it right away, but did not even have time to transmit a greeting because Jazz spoke first. The silver minibot sounded excited, yet somehow just as cool and collected as always.

"Bumblebee, you there? We picked up an unusual energy spike relatively close to your location."

"I'm here. What kind of energy spike?" Bumblebee asked curiously.

"Some kind of explosion. We're not sure what caused it, but Wheeljack thinks the 'Cons might be mining for energon or something."

"Maybe, but shouldn't you be able to detect that?"

"That's the thing. I didn't pick up any energon readings. Whatever they're doing, they must be trying to make sure we don't notice it."

"I see. What are the coordinates?"

"I'm sending them now."

Bumblebee waited for the transmission to download, then he looked up the coordinates. They placed the unknown energy spike in a neutral zone bordering Decepticon territory, an area that was actually quite far from his current location.

"I'd hardly call that close, Jazz," the yellow scout teased him. "Where on Cybertron did you learn to read a map?"

That earned a chuckle from the silver minibot. "I can read just fine, and I said 'relatively close'. Believe it or not, it's closer to you than anyone else. We've got no other 'Bots anywhere near there."

"All right. I'll check it out," Bumblebee replied as he began plotting an appropriate course.

"Thanks, 'Bee. Report back as soon as you find something."

"Will do. Bumblebee out." He cut the comm link and spun around, then accelerated to a good cruising speed—one that would allow him to cover ground more quickly, but without expending too much energy.

After all, it was going to be a long drive.