A/N: Hello! This is my first attempt at writing a Transfomers fanfiction, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes in the story. If any are found, please let me know.

A little background information: As hinted in the summary, this story is set mainly in the Transformer Prime and the Transformer movie universes. There may be some elements from other TF universes also. Also, please pretend Starscream didn't die in Dark of the Moon.

I realize that the point of view from various characters (in future chapters) may make them seem slightly OOC. If you find that is the case, I am open to suggestions for improvement.

Just another note: I am not terribly well versed with the entire Transformers franchise; all that I know is from the movies, TF Prime, TF Animated, and information I've gleaned from other fanfictions. Any alerts pointing out errors will be appreciated. Thanks!

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers in any way, shape or form, but in my mind, Ratchet and I have snark wars.

I almost forgot the time increments. Here it is:

astrosecond: 1 second

breem: 8.3 minutes

joor: 6.5 hours

orn: 6 days

vorn: 83 years

(note: these are all approximations calculated comparing Cybertronian and Earth time)

Optimus Prime sat at his desk, debating whether or not to call Prowl in to discuss a recent idea of his. His pedes were stretched out under the desk, his servos folded together, placed under his head.

It was very early in the morning, as the sun was still rising. Normally, he would go out to watch the sunrise, enjoying the gradual warming of his armour as the sunlight washed ever it. Not today though. This idea of his, this plan, if you will, called for his undivided attention and concentration. If Prowl agreed, then they would have much planning to do. It was going to impact the entire Autobot force, after all. Come to think of it, the humans' government would also have to be informed. All the necessary paperwork invented on the spot to accommodate his plan while following the many rules and regulations would have to be filled out. That would take quite a while, especially since the humans seemed to fiercely enjoy debating over such things very much.

After minutes of debating with himself, he decided to summon Prowl. Optimus knew him to be up already, so really, it was best to call him now than later, lest he rush here in the middle of sorting out a complaint filed by the bots or human or something of the like. As it was early morning and the vast majority of the Autobot force had yet to awake from recharge, Prowl should not be terribly busy. He most likely just arrived at his office.

Optimus raised a servo to his audio dials. He hailed his SIC through a private comm. link frequency.

:Prime to Prowl.:

:Optimus Prime, sir. What is it that you request of me?:

Optimus really wished that Prowl would, for the lack of a better term, loosen up. He was as stiff as a board, as the human saying went.

:Good morning, Prowl. I simply ask that you come down to my office at this moment, providing you are able to do so. I have matters of great importance to discuss with you.:

:Yes sir. I am on my way.:

:Very well. Optimus Prime out:

Optimus picked up the datapad on which he had stored the general outline for his idea. It wasn't much, but there would be no point in detailing such a plan if it had not been approved. Though he was the Prime, he still required the insight and advice of his Second in Command. Prowl wasn't the Head Tactician for nothing, after all.

As he went over what he had written the day before, his resonance scanner alerted him of Prowl's approach. His office doors were open, as they were nearly every day. His audios didn't catch the sound of Prowl stepping into his office though. Perhaps that was due to his natural silent grace and the fact that Prowl was a master of circuit-su.

"Sir, for what reason did you call me here?"

Optimus looked up, and waved a servo at the chairs across from his desk. "Please, Prowl, take a seat. This matter is not something that will take only a breem or two."

Prowl sat, and Optimus could almost see his battle computer running all the possibilities concerning what issue he could possibly have been called for that would take much time to discuss. Since the SIC was still struggling to adapt to peacetime, and Optimus preferred that Prowl did not land himself in the medbay due to his circuits frying, he spoke.

"Prowl, have you had the time to read the datapad I gave to you yesterday?"

He could see the tactician's whirring battle computer came to a halt as he realized what the topic of discussion was to be.

"I have read it, sir. Though I must say, I do not approve of such a mission. It is a great risk; the time frame for such a mission is unacceptable. If you would like to go, then you must shorten the time for which you'll be away. I am capable of stepping in as Commander in your absence, but there is a calculated 79% chance the Autobots will not know what to do with themselves in your long absence. This could cause base wide panic and lead to fights between mechs. Though the Decepticons may be disbanded and on the run, this does not mean we are free of danger. We have a number of accidents resulting in the bodily harm of bots every day, which astounds me even now. And if you wish to take Ratchet with you, then how do you think First Aid will cope with all that will go on in the medbay without Ratchet?"

Prowl was no longer the picture of calmness that he usually was. He sounded very aggravated. Optimus understood though, seeing as he had to deal with all those things on a daily basis. Hourly, even, and more so than Prowl, who locked himself away with his reports to save himself from the insanity. It was Optimus all bots went to for even the littlest of things. Optimus marvelled at the fact that his processor was still functioning at 100 percent after eons of going through such things. Prowl, on the other hand, was the commanding officer on Cybertron, and dealt with Shockwave from the time Optimus left until he himself left for Earth. And considering the circumstances on Cybertron, Optimus doubted the Autobots under Prowl's command had much time or will to fool around. They were all too worn out from the constant battles they waged against Shockwave's armies of drones. There was no time or energy for the bots to blow themselves up daily, or get into vicious fights with each other.

His own team sometimes also bickered over little things, especially between Ironhide, Jazz, and Ratchet, even though they didn't get much in terms of breaks from the raging war, however seemingly peaceful this planet was. Still, Optimus was much more familiar with these types of situations and had come to learn to handle them well. He knew the dos and don'ts of dealing with everyday problems extremely well. A prime example would be Wheeljack blowing up Perceptor's lab. It's happened more than a few times in the past few years. And since Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had arrived on Earth, his expertise on this matter only grew. Prowl only familiarized himself with the Twins' antics once again, as he had in the early days of the war. They ended up in the brig quite often, and for longer periods of time every time. It was something to see; the sight of Prowl punishing the Twins was rather amusing.

Coming to Earth was an enormous change for Prowl. Earth was so … peaceful, especially in comparison to the almost constant bombardment of artillery, cries, and deaths. Peaceful outside the base, that is. Sort of. Inside of the base was, to be blunt, quite hectic and overall, a drastic change in environment for his poor SIC. Four years and Prowl still seemed to be struggling to adapt. Of course, that might be due to the constant harassment of Jazz and the Twins. It was a wonder his circuits haven't yet short-circuited, considering all that he had to deal with everyday. Optimus decided to order Prowl on a long vacation and send Jazz to keep an eye on him. Smokescreen could take over the Head Tactician's work and Ultra Magnus could step in as SIC. Ironhide would temporarily fill the spot of TIC for Jazz. Speaking of Jazz –

"Sir? I apologize if I stepped out of line. I merely wished to express my concerns regarding this absurd proposal."

Optimus resisted the urge to sigh and "roll his optics" in a very out of character and "un-Prime-like" way. Even he, a Prime, he who possessed endless patience, wisdom and understanding, was quite exasperated with Prowl.

"No. I was merely taking into consideration which of the bots will be able to come with me. As you understand, these bots must be selected with the utmost care and forethought." He paused for an astrosecond. "You are correct, Prowl. I am aware of the many complications that will no doubt rise due to my extended absence, but I am sure you and Ultra Magnus are more than capable, are you not?"

"Of course, Sir. You do not need to worry about coming back to a nonexistent base and your soldiers scattered to the winds, but I do not think I have to remind you that some bots are rather… reluctant to obey to authority figures beside yourself. That is, if you are going at all. As of now, it is simply a proposal, and the ground works have yet to be laid. Although I detest being redundant, I must stress again how vital you are to the Autobots and the safety of the mechs. With you gone from base, the Deceticons may become bolder and launch an attack in your absence. This is not a possibility that can be ruled out nor can it be overlooked."

Optimus vented lightly, nearly shaking his helm at Prowl's unnecessary negativity. "Yes, yes. I understand the large impacts of my absence and that of several other bots, but I assure you, I have confidence that I will not arrive back on Earth to find my Autobots inhabiting every corner of the Earth, nor a destroyed base. I have confidence in your ability to lead them all as well as handle any hostile contacts efficiently and sensibly. And… well, every bot knows that you "run a tight ship", as the humans say. I am also quite confident that you will assist however you can in planning the entirety of this mission. How does that sound?"

Prowl was silent for a moment, optics cast downward in slight embarrassment. "I… I will begin planning as soon as possible, sir. I apologize for my presumptuous assumptions."

"No need to apologize. Do you have much work now?"

"No, I merely have seven reports to file as of now. If no other incidents take place during the day, I should be able to spare half a joor to assist in planning this mission. On another note, are you planning to announce this mission to the Autobots soon?"

Optimus shook his helm. "I believe that I will announce this mission shortly after we have finished with the planning phase. I do, however, plan to speak with commanding officers and select bots just prior to that." Optimus paused, and upon seeing Prowl's inquiring expression, he explained further. "I speculate that there are a few mechs who will no doubt insist on accompanying me. Ironhide, for one, and Ratchet as well. I also require one who has experience flying a large ship such as the Ark, and the only mechs on base to have done so are Jazz and Sideswipe. Should Sideswipe come with, then Sunstreaker will follow without a doubt. It is also pragmatic to…"

"To have one or two fliers accompany you as well."

Optimus nodded. Prowl's processor was still as sharp as it was a thousand vorns ago. "Precisely."

"I assume you will have the commanding officers inform their respective division, correct?"

"That is correct. That is all that I have planned concerning the mission release. Do you have any objections?"

"No, sir, though I do have a concern regarding military chain of command."

"Continue."

"I know that I am not the most liked by the Autobots, and I am simply taking into consideration that they will feel that I hold little power over them despite my rank. As you know, I have experienced incidents in which mechs have blatantly and directly disobeyed an order from me, and I have to say, I am not very excited to deal with such situations again."

"Do not worry, Prowl. I will ensure that all orders are obeyed in my absence. If not, then you have my permission to think of creative punishments within reason. I trust that you clearly understand the parameters of reason. If you like and if necessary, you may even incorporate human punishments. Will that be sufficient?"

Prowl didn't outwardly show his relief, but Optimus could see it in his optics. "Yes, thank you. Now, if I may return to my office to gather a number of things, we can begin planning this mission."

A nod from Optimus and Prowl was swiftly exiting his office. Optimus sighed. He really wished his SIC would cease calling him "Sir" and call him "Optimus" or even "Prime" as Ironhide, Ratchet, Jazz, and a number of others did, but thus far, he still haven't managed such a thing. Countless vorns of service serving under Optimus, from when Prowl was merely a low ranking intelligence officer to his current position, and he still insisted addressing Optimus as "Sir" no matter what the circumstances were. It was border lining ridiculous, really. Optimus cared for his officers' and soldiers' safety and wellbeing. They cared right back. The relationships between himself and the Autobots weren't so much Commander and Subordinate, but much more sibling and parental for some. Even Mirage had reluctantly admitted the close relationship they shared, though not in so many words. Prowl, however, was in a category by himself. He was so by-the-book that Optimus constantly sighed and distressed about it, especially since they were no longer at war. Even Ultra Magnus called him Optimus on occasions! Prowl was considered a lost cause regarding this matter, even though Optimus had even enlisted the help of Jazz. The saboteur had no luck as well. If even Jazz's pestering couldn't get the Tactician to change his ways, then he really had nothing left.

As long as Prowl was aware that he was a part of Optimus's "family", then being addressed as "Sir" was fine. That brought him to another though. Perhaps he should somehow subtly show…. No. Gift giving wouldn't work. Prowl's battle computer would analyze the measure of appreciation to death even after he figured out the purpose of said possible gift or such. Perhaps in a case such as this, saying it outright was the best solution. Yes, that would possibly work.

"Sir? I have retrieved several datapads from my office. Shall we begin now?"

Optimus was jerked out of his thoughts at the sound of Prowl's voice. He was already back? Then again, Prowl's office was quite close to his own. Ah. He really needed to get his processor into gear and focus on the task at hand. Planning this mission.

"Of course, Prowl. Let us begin now. We should begin with the time and date of departure, then move on to weaponry and energon supplies. Following, we can work on clearing the Ark, launching it, and beginning a maintenance check."

He waited for Prowl's agreement. "That is fine."

Optimus smiled and retracted his battle mask. Although Prowl was the Tactician and the best at his job, Optimus still had millennia of experience and training in all aspects of warfare. Tactics was, of course, included.

Prowl seemed slightly surprised when Optimus allowed the entirety of his faceplates to show, but busied himself with laying out his datapads in a mechanical manner. Three astroseconds later, Optimus's desk was occupied by ten datapads spread out across the length, all placed an equal distance from each other and all blinking, signalling that they were empty. He was such a perfectionist. Optimus believed that the humans have a term for tendencies such as ones Prowl only seconds ago displayed. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, was it? A quick search across the Worldwide Web confirmed his suspicions. Prowl had what the humans called OCD. Though he probably best not let that slip. He imagine that Prowl would be much less than pleased should he find out, and downright furious if the entire base were to become aware of such a fact.

Prowl immediately started entering a subject into each datapad, titling the first "Recon Mission in Deep Space: Departure Date and Time". The others followed in a similar manner, and were titled things such as "Weaponry and Artillery", "Energon Supplies", "Maintenance", "Goals and Time Frame", and so on.

Optimus picked up the datapad titled "Departure Date and Time" and began writing while speaking.

"I wish to leave as soon as possible, though I am aware that some time must be allowed for bots to gather themselves and prepare for departure. We must take into consideration the amount of time it will take for Wheeljack and Perceptor to run a full maintenance check on the Ark. If there is nothing to be fixed, then we may leave shortly after. However, I have no doubt that Wheeljack will want to make a number of adjustments to improve a variety of functions, so we must plan for such things."

"If I may, I suggest that you speak with the commanding officers immediately after we finish the planning process. Following that, give the Aerialbots two to three joors to decide, then set a deadline for submissions for the rest of the Autobots. At that time, we should be able to launch the Ark into orbit and Wheeljack may begin maintenance checks. This seems to be the most logical, as it will save time and allow you to ensure that everything is well taken care of."

"Of course. I would also like to begin gradually moving the majority of base activities from the Ark to the finished base soon, as well as personal possessions as soon as the construction on living quarters is completed. On another note, in how long, do you think, it will take us to finish planning everything? An orn, perhaps?"

"No, it would take at least two orns to make sure that all angles and possibilities have been covered. After that, we can finalize the mission plan."

"Excellent. Prowl, forgive me for inquiring about such a sensitive subject, but I must ask. Should Jazz be chosen to go, will you be in agreement with this?"

Prowl hesitated, servos hovering above a datapad. "I am fine with that. Jazz and I are quite close, though by no means bonded. I can handle one to two human years easily. After all, we all survived these past vorns, have we not?"

"Not all of us have survived, but yes, many of us have spent far too long apart from their bonded and lovers. I am simply concerned for your wellbeing, old friend. I know that Jazz would not agree to go if he didn't think you would be alright without him. Prowl, you must tell me if you are against this."

Optimus knew he walking along a delicately blurred line when he asked that, but his SIC and TIC had become especially close since… since Prowl found out that Jazz had joined with the Allspark after Mission City. It had been only seven years since then, and in Cybertronian time increments, seven human years represented a pitifully miniscule portion of a Cybertronian's life. Their kind was nigh immortal, after all. That aside, wounds taken to the spark can take vorns to heal. And with bots such as Prowl, who did not handle emotion as well as some, vorns may stretch longer. Though this was a sensitive topic, it was necessary to ask, lest it lead to something far worse.

Prowl vented lightly. "Optimus, I assure you, I am fine. Do not worry about me." He looked down at his servos. "Now, shall we continue?"

Optimus smiled. Prowl had called him by his name. Perhaps his efforts were not all wasted after all. "Of course."

Another A/N: I hope that was to your liking. If you have time, then please write a few words in a review. I draw inspiration and ideas from you guys.