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Chapter 2

In Which Prowl Makes a Deal and Red Alert is Paranoid

By the time Bluestreak led the Prime and his guards into the Command Center (with the newcomers all a bit dazed), Prowl had caught the Twins and all but tied them to the monitor stations. Sunstreaker sat, grumbling to himself in his corner seat, Sideswipe grinning beside him.

Bluestreak, Prime, Ironhide, and the three other guards entered to hear Sideswipe whining.

"Come on, Prowl, the color looked good on him!"

"Nevertheless, Sideswipe, it is-"

"So you admit that you think it looked good! I'm telling!"

"I said no such thing."

"Sure you did! Didn't he, Sunny?"

"Don't call me that and don't get me involved. You already got me stuck here."

"Aww, come on! The whole world's against me, and – Oh, hi, Blue," Sideswipe interrupted himself, leaning over the back of his seat to grin at the gunner. "How are you?"

Bluestreak twitched his doorwings and glanced at Prowl. "Good. I got to escort Prime down here, and he let me talk, and it was pretty cool, and you two really shouldn't mess with Ratchet, you know what happens when you do..."

"Oh, of course, but it's so fun! Isn't it Sunny?" Sunstreaker said nothing, but Sideswipe flinched. "Ouch. Really? You'd do that to your own brother?"

"At the moment, I fail to see how we are at all related."

"You hurt me, Sunny, right here," Sideswipe smirked, splaying a servo over his chassis.

"No, I didn't."

Sideswipe shrugged and turned back to the other mechs in the room, the newcomers looking a bit stunned. "Prowl, can we go now? Uh... If you let us go, we won't play any pranks for... half an orn."

"Three."

"What? No. One."

"Two."

"One and a half?"

Prowl tilted his helm to the side and examined the Twin. "Done. Any pranks before that, and you're in the brig for four orns."

Sideswipe was up and out of the chair in less than a klik, Sunstreaker following at a much more reasonable pace. They left the room without another word. Optimus stared at the base commander, who simply twitched his doorwings in a shrug.

"If I keep them in here, they will do their utmost to make me crash or to simply annoy me and distract me to the point where I can do no work. However, they will keep a deal such as the one we just made, and it allows me to not worry about their incessant pranks for at least an orn and a half. Or, if one does occur, I will not have to worry for four orns. It is a worthwhile tradeoff."

"I... I see?"

"Also, they are war builds. We went through several rather terrifying groons when they were first sent here. War builds, as you may know, are programmed for action. Over long periods of quiet and calm, they get fidgety. And the pranks make a better outlet than letting the tension build up until they attack someone, which they have in the past. Paint is, after all, easier to take care of than a mech half offlined."

"Uh... Yes?"

Prowl simply shook his helm and turned back to the controls and monitors. "As you can see," he said, gesturing to the four mechs on duty, who had been ignoring the Twin's antics, as well as the Prime, "the Control Center is well managed and always staffed with at least four mechs. Red Alert is often on duty in his Security Center as well, and he can always be counted on to alert us all at the slightest hint of attack." One of the mechs on duty snorted, but Prowl ignored him. "Very few Decepticons pass through here, but we still keep watch."

"Yes... Yes, very good."

Prowl nodded, then turned and walked past the newcomers and out the door. "Where shall we go next, Prime? Generally, we would head for the Med Bay next, but as Ratchet is still in a rather... horrid mood, we should avoid that area for a time."

The Prime glanced at Ironhide. The black bot shrugged. "Uh... You mentioned the Security Center..."

"Ah, yes. Well, then, come this way, please. And please do not take anything Red Alert says personally. He has... He is not the most normal mech."

"Not many here are," the Prime observed, watching as a minibot ran by, stopped by a vent low on the wall, yanked the cover off, and dove in. Prowl didn't give the little green bot a second glance. The Prime and his guard continued to follow the monochromatic Praxian down the halls.

"No, we are not," Prowl agreed, glancing over his shoulder at the mechs behind him. "That's why we are here."

"Yes, I know. Tell me, do you know why everyone is here?"

"I have access to all the personal files of the mechs on base, yes. However, you do not necessarily need them to know why we were sent here. Of the mechs you have already met, for most it should be rather obvious."

"I suppose I can guess for a few," the Prime allowed, and at Prowl's prompting glance, he continued. "Mirage... I doubt many commanders liked him wandering around invisible. Hmm. The Twins... Well, they are the Twins. That needs little explanation."

"Agreed."

"Red Alert was acting rather..."

"Spastic?" Ironhide threw in, and only shrugged at the glare Optimus sent him. "What? 'S true."

"Indeed."

"Jazz... Well... He did tap into our comm link."

"Yes. He is a saboteur, and a very accomplished one. However, one of his teammates threw a mission, and Jazz was left with the blame. He was put on desk duty, and it did not sit well with him. For a time, before he was sent here, he was a bit glitchy."

"I see."

"Yes."

"I can see why Bluestreak was sent here as well. I doubt many commanders would be tolerant of his ceaseless talking."

"Actually, the only reason Bluestreak was sent here was because he was just a youngling when I was sent here, and I am, or was, his caretaker. He had already linked to me, and we couldn't break that. So he came along. I am extremely grateful, though, because as you said, few tolerate the babbling. I am grateful in that aspect for the isolation this base provides."

The Prime stared at the Praxian, almost surprised at the show of emotion. "That is... rather kind of you, Prowl."

The base commander only nodded humbly, then flicked a doorwing. "Here we are. Red Alert, please open up. The Prime wishes to meet with you."

"How do you know he's the Prime?" a voice asked sharply from a speaker mounted to the wall near a door. The camera above that same door turned and whirred as it focused on the mechs.

Prowl sighed. "Red Alert, please do not force me to make it an order. And if that fails, please do not make me call Inferno."

"Ah'm already in here, Prowl."

"Ah. Inferno, will you please open the door?"

"No! Inferno, don't do that!" Red Alert screeched, and Optimus Prime resisted the urge to rub his suddenly aching audials.

With a sigh, the Prime stepped forward so he was standing at Prowl's side, eager to stop this before it (whatever it was) escalated as it threatened to do. "Red Alert. If I show you the Matrix as proof of my being Prime, will you allow us admittance?"

There was a moment of silence. Then, "Maybe."

A click was heard, then the hiss of hydraulics. The Prime's chest parted. He reached in, and pulled out a glittering, whorled, carved, shining metal object. Instead of actually holding it, it hovered above his palm, though the other bots could sense that there were no magnetics involved in its levitation. Optimus held the Matrix up for the camera's, and Red Alert's, inspection, and after a moment, the door hissed open.

Red Alert, horns sparking a dim blue, stood in the entryway, the hulking Inferno behind him. He gazed at the relic, then nodded slowly. "There's no denying that is the real Matrix. I am... sorry... for the... eh..."

Prime held up a hand (not the one the Matrix was in), and smiled under his mask. "Understandable. No apology is necessary. It is nice to meet you, Red Alert."

"... You too?" the Security Director said slowly, hesitantly, a small smile spread over his face, and stepped aside.

Nodding amicably, after stuffing the Matrix unceremoniously back into his chest, the Prime accepted the invitation and stepped inside, motioning for his mechs to stay outside. Ironhide, with a grunt, did as ordered. Prowl stepped into the room and stood to the side of the door, watching quietly as the Prime looked over the room.

"This is... very impressive, Red Alert," the Prime said after a moment, looking over the wall of monitors, the control panels that contained too many touchpads, switches, buttons, and dials to count, and the stacks of datapads and energon cubes in the corners.

Red Alert just nodded, horns beginning to spark again. Optimus Prime noticed, thankfully, and stepped toward the door. "Thank you, Red Alert, for letting me in. You have my gratitude."

The Security Director nodded and closed the door behind the Prime and Prowl after they had stepped past the frame.

Ironhide stared at Prowl. Prowl, clearly understanding what the big black mech was thinking, smiled grimly, and spoke. "I deal with this because I have to. Believe it or not, he's better now than he was before. Most of them are. Now, come with me. Next stop is the supply bay. We shan't spend long there. However, it is a necessary stop."

"Of course," Optimus said politely, and they all started on their way again.