A thread of thought churned away in the back of my processors, analyzing what culpability was mine in this mess. While Kick-Off's actions were his own, the responsibility to protect the All Spark ultimately had been mine. And I had failed. I was the one who had rubber-stamped his induction into the guardians. I was the one who allowed him to work in such close proximity to the All Spark. It was on my watch - literally - that the Cube was corrupted. I was the one who had rescued him and brought him here to injure Ratchet.

I received a ping from the Prime, announcing that Bumblebee's transport was on final approach, and I briefly considered extinguishing that wayward thread of thought. I would have let it continue to run for any other mech; it was only fair that I subject myself to the same brutal analysis. Giving it a moderate priority, I left the barracks to join my fellow Autobots in the main NEST hangar.

When the transport finally touched down, Bumblebee rolled down the ramp in his alt-form, carting around the humans inside his internal sparkling-carrier cab. Samuel's spark lit up my sensors despite the shielding inherent in such a space. Especially with his low power-output, it was incredibly disconcerting, almost as if Samuel was truly an infant of our race. Then Bumblebee rolled to a stop and both Samuel and his mate stepped out. A cacophony of sensory input hit my doorwings.

Samuel walked closer, leaving a wake of moisture and pheremones and dead skin cells. At the same time, I analyzed the pattern of his infant spark and his energies were in perfect synchronization with Optimus'. Samuel was undeniably human; he was undeniably Prime-bound. Organic life did not have sparks and I was inundated by errors and sensor recalibration requests on my HUD. It was enough to cause a stab of pain in my processors - an early warning of an impending glitch. I focused on modifying my code to allow for the walking impossibility before me.

The boy glanced up at Optimus, and I strongly suspected I was witnessing them communicating over a brother bond.

"Where's Arcee?" Mikaela asked as we walked toward the barracks, and Jolt gestured toward the med bay. She nodded once in understanding and looked up at Bumblebee. "Think Ratchet would be up for visitors, after we get the introductions out of the way?"

The yellow mech shrugged, but his doorwings lifted at the thought. Somehow, I doubted a visit to the surly medic was what inspired such happiness.

Arcee and Ratchet were the only ones absent when we took our places, sitting on the rim of the sunken circle in the middle of the barracks' room. Optimus rose to his feet. "Today we welcome again into our midst Prowl, my first officer." He met my gaze and nodded once. Though his words and gestures were formal, I felt the warmth behind them.

That warmth turned to something cold and deadly when he said, "However, our joy at his arrival is tempered by the knowledge that one of our own has betrayed both us and the most sacred of vows." Turning on his projector, Optimus laid before one and all the most damning evidence of Kick-Off's treachery.

I barely registered the murmurs of surprise and dismay as that wayward thread of thought returned its analysis. As head of the Temple guardians, I was answerable for all of Kick-Off's transgressions against the Cube. The spilled energon of the Temple guardians who were slain by Kick-Off's servos witnessed against me, and only by taking his life could my own be redeemed. One or the other of us must perish.

"Turn us loose on him, Prime," Sideswipe growled, gesturing toward his twin. "We'll put him down for you."

"No," I firmly cut in, pulling myself back to the present. "Kick-Off violated Temple law, and he will be tried and punished accordingly."

"You don't have enough Temple guardians left for a Denunciation," Ironhide pointed out. "You and Bumblebee are the only survivors and it takes at least three of you, doesn't it?"

"He and I are the only two on Earth," I allowed, refusing to rule out the possibility that there were more survivors. "But we have two Primes whose authority supersedes that of the Temple guardians. Optimus or Samuel could stand in as witnesses, if they are willing."

"We're willing," Samuel said.

Bumblebee played a clip. "Gotta catch him...first."

My doorwings swept back in determination. "I will begin looking for him immediately, with your leave, Primes."

"Not yet, Prowl," Samuel said, rising to his feet again. "These are dark times, but we wanted you to see this."

Ironhide's chassis armor slid back to reveal an energon vessel. As he set it at Prime's feet, I noted it was all but empty. Optimus then opened a compartment near his spark and extracted a curious-looking object - the Matrix of Leadership.

A panel on the roof slid back, allowing in streams of sunlight. I knew from Optimus' own memories what would happen next, the white-hot price he paid for the power of our Creator to course through him into the reformatted All Spark. As I anticipated, the light winked out as soon as it fell on the Matrix, and a moment later a glowing, green liquid dripped from the relic. I was wholly unprepared for the hope that ripped through me then. It was a visceral thing, as potent as the despair I'd felt since learning of the Cube's destruction. This was life - my own continued survival - distilling drop by drop. This was hope for our kind and a promise for the future. It was irrefutable evidence that we had - again, always - a true Prime to lead us. It was forgiveness for the unpardonable sin we Autobots collectively bore for extinguishing the Cube.

Energon. I was witnessing the generation of energon.

Eventually, Optimus' hand curled reverently around the Matrix he held and the relic went dormant in his palm. In the golden sunlight, I could see the full-to-brimming energon vessel.

Long-dormant Temple guardian protocols activated, programming I'd accepted as part of my oath of office as head of the guardians. The strut-deep need to protect the All Spark at all costs settled again into my spark and processor. Small wonder, I mused as Optimus returned the Matrix to its home in his chassis, that I'd felt so at home at my Prime's side - he was a living, walking Temple of the All Spark.

My Prime stooped and hefted the vessel. Extending it to me, he solemnly said, "The light of your optics is dim."

It was the beginning of the ritual invitation offered to all who came to the Temple of Simfur seeking a ration of energon. They were ancient, familiar words, but awe stole the appropriate response from my processor. Instead, I accepted the gift being offered and drank deeply - freely - for the first time in eons.

I bowed, dropping to one knee, as I returned the partially-drained vessel to my Prime. Samuel chuckled, his organic spark radiating pleased satisfaction, and I again felt a stab of pain in my processor. No human should glow like that!

Bumblebee rose to his feet and took his place at my right side. "Let's get to it," he quoted.

…

The first order of business was choosing an alt-form. Normally mechs were permitted to "shop around" online for the alt they wanted and the human-built template was shipped in for them to scan. We would not have time for that nor for the human integration training that usually preceded any off-island missions. I interrupted Iron Will mid-apology.

"I'll scan whatever the NEST equivalent is of an Enforcer."

"Police officer," Bumblebee quoted in explanation. "He was a cop...once upon a time."

Not five minutes later, the necessary vehicle pulled into the hangar. The cruiser design was simple enough, but I modified it to my preferred black-and-white color scheme, replacing the "Dodge" emblem on the steering wheel with an Autobot symbol and changing the label on the exterior from "Charger" to "Enforcer."

Then Optimus gave me the use of his office. I needed a quiet, private space for the task ahead of me since finding Kick-Off would require all the processor power I could spare. I offlined my optics and sent threads of code and thought into the human's digital network.

My chronometer indicated that 20 minutes had passed before a human-sized spark-signature joined me in the office.

"How are you going to do it?"

It took me 4.25 astroseconds to reroute memory strings to visual sensors and auditory processing, 1.1 astroseconds to become annoyed at the interruption even if Samuel was a Prime and Optimus' brother, and another 12.3 astroseconds to assemble a suitable response. "Kick-Off will need power but the saline content of your oceans are too corrosive for him to avail himself of deep-water energy sources such as superheated vents. It's too much of a drain on energon. Solar power collection would be diminished by the saline and other mineral deposits that would accumulate should he attempt to simply stay in the ocean. He will make for land, most likely the closest major landmass available. To that end, I am monitoring both governmental and private sensor feeds along the coastlines of Sri Lanka and India."

He gave me a full twenty astroseconds of peace before he interrupted again. "Both of them? The whole coast?"

"Just the southern third of India," I corrected and then resigned myself to focusing on this conversation. I shouldn't have omitted a detail as simple as that. Dropping my surveillance of the coastline of Madagascar (it had been a long shot, anyway, and if he did make for that country it would, at a minimum, take him another day to get there), I focused on Samuel.

"You can do that?" he asked, wide-eyed. "I mean, even for you guys, that's a lot of data."

I lifted my chin in self-confident pride. "I am a tactician and my first career was as a surveillance peacekeeper. Monitoring and analyzing significant quantities of data is my primary function."

He pursed his lips together in a gesture my human-integration database flagged as "pensive." Primus save me from inquisitive organics - Prime or otherwise.

"I didn't mean, 'How are you going to find him?' I meant, 'How are you going to kill him?'"

It was an unexpected question, and with my attention divided it took a painfully-long time to consider it. "In the traditional manner."

"Yeah, I figured, since you wanted me or Optimus to be a witness for the Denunciation. But Temple law was pretty clear on this. The trial was done in the Temple itself, in front of the All Spark. You give the accused mech a wound that will kill him but not immediately and if he wasn't guilty the All Spark would heal him. Which is creepily similar to some witch-hunt stuff but...never mind. My point is, you don't have the Cube anymore."

I vented a sigh. "I am aware of the difficulties you raised. In this case, the evidence comes from his own memory core."

"Which was reported to you via Jolt who picked the data from the processor of an offline mech. In other words, hearsay."

I glared at him, and he added, "I know you, Prowl, better than you realize. Optimus hasn't stopped talking to me about you since you arrived. You're gonna hate yourself if you cut corners on this one."

There was a ripple in the data-streams, and I focused for 17.42 astroseconds to determine it was merely human activity - a manned, motorized rescue vehicle within 4% variance of Kick-Off's mass patrolling a beach near Kochi, India. I flagged the vehicle as the 168th potential alt-form template for him and devoted a processor thread to track it until it passed more than a mile from the shoreline.

"Even so," I finally answered him, "I've been on Earth less than 48 hours. You are living proof that we must adapt." I suddenly looked down to meet his gaze. "Does Optimus have reservations about the proceedings?"

"No," he answered, shaking his head. "Just me. And just because we do still have the All Spark, even if the Cube was destroyed."

It took my strained processor 5.89 astroseconds to decipher his meaning. "You are offering to wield the All Spark at the Denunciation trial?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure if it even can heal like that. I've only used it to reignite sparks and its power is pretty depleted. All I know is that if I'm one of the Denunciation witnesses, I couldn't even try, right?"

"Perhaps not." This whole scenario was so far beyond the scope of Temple law that my processor ached when I tried to stretch it around the current situation, especially with my analysis needed elsewhere. "I will consider the points you raised while you recharge. Hopefully by morning I will have some options for you."

He quietly snorted. "Ya know, if ya go too long without recharge, ya gonna start havin' processin' errors."

Jazz. He'd said those words with that inflection so many times that it was almost like hearing them from the dead mech's own vocal processor. It froze my spark.

I looked at this walking organic enigma and he gave me a sad smile. "I know you," he repeated. "I'm a Prime and I take care of my mechs. When you get a fourth-level recharge alert, notify Optimus. He can divide the data stream analysis between him, Bumblebee, and Jolt so you can rest. You'll be more intuitive in your dreams, anyway. I can make it an order if you want me to, but I'd rather not."

Stunned, I nodded my helm. "Yes, sir."

He nodded in answer, apparently satisfied, and left. Deliberately burying in my spark the pain he'd awoken by speaking in Jazz's stead, I centered in on tracking the 168th potential template and monitoring for other targets. As ordered, once a fourth-level recharge alert came up on my HUD, I notified Optimus and he took over the data streams with Bumblebee and Jolt.

In my dreams that recharge cycle, I stood in front of the Cube at the Temple of Simfur, remembering the only other Denunciation trial I'd been a part of, back when I was still an initiate. Glyph had been his name and he'd been accused of trying to access and read the histories engraven into the All Spark. Only a Prime had the right to do that, and for a mere second-level guardian to make that attempt bordered on blasphemous. Or at least, that was Broadside's accusation at the time.

There were no weapons allowed in the presence of the All Spark, so inflicting the trial wound was no small matter. With his own servos, Broadside personally tore apart the coolant lines that were connected to Glyph's spark chamber, giving him mere moments to survive.

In the quiet of my own, dreaming mind, I was able to admit I had grievous doubts that solar cycle, even though the evidence against Glyph was irrefutable. Discerning the will of the All Spark as recorded on its surface was a right that belonged to the Primes. Glyph was on trial for usurping that right, but were we not unjustly pretending to read the will of the All Spark by performing this ritual? The accused guardians at the last three Denunciations had perished, but it was a long leap of logic to assume that reflected the will of the All Spark.

Glyph was miraculously healed from his wound, and he replaced Broadside as head of the Temple guardians not long after, but the implications troubled me even now. It had been handed down as fact that the Primes were the only ones who could read the histories. And while Glyph had been unsuccessful in his attempt to translate them, the All Spark had endorsed (or at least, not condemned) him for his audacity.

If such audacity was acceptable for mechs who weren't Primes, what authority did my true Primes have in regards to this new All Spark? Samuel in particular, as the one who reignited sparks, would be able to speak to us and discern its will in this Denunciation and trial. Even if its energy was too depleted to heal, the All Spark could make its will known.

The following morning, I found Samuel with the other humans in the main hangar, nursing a cup of coffee. He was impossible to miss with his Prime-bound spark. At least the software patches I'd written yesterday kept the sensor errors to a minimum. "You asked last night how Kick-Off's trial would proceed given the difficulties presented by the All Spark's new form."

Setting the cup aside, he looked up, giving me his full attention. "Yeah?"

"The purpose of the trial was to ensure that the All Spark approved of the execution since it and it alone judged the Temple guardians. You executed Megatron and reignited Optimus. As Prime, you can speak the will of the All Spark on this matter."

He blinked several times and it took him 4.2 astroseconds to respond. "I don't...I mean, it's not as simple as that. I can't just meditate or something and know what the All Spark wants."

"Nevertheless, if anyone can know the will of the All Spark, it will be you, Prime. You have the power to judge us."

He sighed. "Give me some time to think about it, 'kay? Besides, there's another issue. If Optimus and Bumblebee are the witnesses, that'll leave you all alone to fight Kick-Off, right?"

I straightened, my doorwings stiffening. "If you know me as well as you seem to, you also know I am a capable warrior."

"I know. I also know Kick-Off came uncomfortably close to taking out Ratchet. I don't like the idea of you going solo against him."

I opened my mouth to protest but was interrupted by an urgent ping just as Samuel said, "They've spotted him. Go."

The message from Bumblebee confirmed the human Prime was correct and I hurried to join them in Optimus' office. Optimus transmitted Kick-Off's current coordinates as well as the observations that led them to believe it was indeed him. He'd caught Kick-Off on camera scanning an alt-mode in Matara, Sri Lanka and transforming before leaving the beach. The three of them proverbially handed off their data streams to me to allow me to continue tracking the traitor.

I barely noticed Optimus giving orders for a transport plane to be made ready. My mind was wandering the streets of Matara following Kick-Off through the optic of whatever camera I could find and hack along his route.

Eventually, Jolt joined me in the office. "Optimus ordered me to keep an optic on him while you're in the air."

"Thank you. Notify me immediately if he leaves the city."

"Understood."

I turned the data streams over to him and strode out to join the Prime on the tarmac with Bumblebee in tow. The Primes, because Samuel was part of our team this time, too, standing in the shade of his brother.

"Bumblebee," Arcee called, her two remaining components zipping around him to block his path. It was the first time she'd left the med bay since Ratchet's injury. Both of them extended their arms to him and he clasped them in a warrior's grip.

"Take care of yourself," she said. "We'd offer to ride shotgun but Ratchet..."

"You would not be permitted to join us," I interrupted. "Kick-Off has besmirched the honor of the Temple guardians. This is a matter for us alone."

She glanced sidelong at me, and Bumblebee released her hands. "Good hunting," she wished him and, turning to me, added, "To you both."

I nodded in acknowledgement and we followed Optimus and Samuel onto the plane.