Jazz stared up at the ceiling, thinking.

He'd spent the off-cycle in Ratchet's office, but hadn't gotten much recharge.

In some ways it was nice to be back here, where you could get decent medical care and you didn't have to worry about telepaths listening in on your thoughts.

And things made sense now. He was fairly sure he understood what had been on that datapad. He understood why he had gone with the Decepticons, and why he'd stayed with them. He didn't have to worry about that anymore.

But he was still on edge.

He'd seen Megatron's forces so he knew how powerful the gladiator was. And now, he was going to be fighting on the other side. He had no idea what kind of resources the Autobots had. He didn't know, or trust a lot of the new mecha here.

And he really didn't know what his role would be, or what his future would hold.

He forced himself not to react when Ratchet's office door opened, but covertly glanced over to see Orion enter and sit down at Ratchet's desk.

"Hey, mech," Jazz said when Orion didn't speak.

"Were you recharging? I'm sorry for disturbing you."

"Nah," Jazz sat up. "I was just thinking."

Ratchet was still working on building a new leg for him, but he'd fitted a long rod on the end of the stump so Jazz could sort of walk while he was waiting for the replacement.

"How are you feeling?"

"Great," Jazz said. "I'm ready ta get right ta work. Whatever ya need me ta do."

Orion looked down at his hands.

Jazz's spark sank. "So…" he said.

"We are very grateful for the sacrifices you made to provide us information."

Jazz waited expectantly for the mech to continue.

"But… Prowl, Mainspring, and I have discussed it and we're concerned that you were willing to delete your own memories to stay undercover. We…"

"I mean, it's dangerous," Jazz cut in. "But I knew what I was doing. Ya can ask Ratchet—all my other memories are intact."

"I know you were careful," Orion said. "But the fact that you were willing to harm yourself in such a way is… concerning."

"In my line of work, ya gotta be willing ta do whatever it takes," Jazz said.

Orion was silent.

Jazz sighed. "It's okay," he said. "I'll understand if ya don't trust me. I wouldn't trust me either, not with my past."

"I am not worried about you betraying us to Megatron or the Council," Orion said. "But I am worried that your past will inform your decisions and impair your judgment."

Well, that was like a punch to the tanks.

"Can you promise me you won't erase your memories again, or ask anyone else to do so?"

Jazz shuttered his optics. "So long as Soundwave's a Decepticon, I can't make that promise. Maybe in the future, I'll be able ta come up with a workaround, but for now…"

"Then can you understand why I'm concerned?"

"I mean, I guess," Jazz said. "But like I said, ya don't have ta trust me. I can leave if ya want. I kinda knew deep down… I've never really been what ya needed in your organization."

If they kicked him out, he'd have to find the nearest detention center and turn himself in again.

It was only fair.

But he couldn't bring that up, because Orion would feel bad about it.

"I want to trust you," Orion said. "And I do think we could use your help. You're a better mech than you believe you are."

Jazz shook his helm.

"I just need to know you won't lose the progress you've made since leaving Quantum. In fact, I need to know you'll keep progressing."

Jazz tilted his helm to the side. "What do ya mean?"

"The situation with the Decepticons is quickly getting out of hand. I still want to try to minimize the cost in lives and energon, even if war is unavoidable."

Jazz nodded.

"Megatron doesn't care about what this war will cost. But I do, and I need everyone who works with me to care as well. As far as I've been told, you have a history of not taking consequences into account. But you must learn to change that. You see, that's what has to be different about the Autobots. We have to care about the cost. If we lose the war but save lives, it has to be worth it to us. If I'm going to trust you, I need to know you're going to care more about lives than goals."

Jazz wasn't sure how to respond to that. Sometimes in order to keep your processor clear, you had to stop caring—you had to block out emotion. In any kind of war you saw mecha offline, and you couldn't let yourself feel it because it would break you.

"And that includes your own life, and your own health," Orion continued.

"Caring's a tricky thing," Jazz said quietly. "It drives ya crazy sometimes."

"Well, not caring drives you crazy all the time."

Jazz thought of Megatron and Soundwave.

"If you stop caring, you stop making choices based on what's right."

Jazz took in a deep vent and let it out. "Ya want me ta care more."

"Yes," Orion said. "To care more about yourself, and about other mecha. I know that's hard, but that is the price of being an Autobot. We will not lose sight of what matters most, and if you want to be one of us, you have to promise that you won't either."

Jazz watched Orion, trying to work through that request. He knew mecha thought he didn't care, and maybe in some ways they were right. But he did care about the cost, he just thought paying it was worth it sometimes.

If he didn't stick with the Autobots, he'd have to turn himself back in to enforcement.

They'd probably kill him.

And he would deserve it.

But if Orion needed his help—if they were willing to accept his help, could he really turn his back on them? Just because he didn't want to try to be better than his past self?

There was really only one answer. "Okay. I… I can try."

"Thank you," Orion looked at him, and Jazz felt like the mech was staring right past his visor into his optics. It was almost unnerving.

This mech was different than he'd been before Megatron had left Autobot. He was older, more commanding. Wiser.

"What?" Orion asked.

"Ya grew up a lot while I was gone, mech."

Orion smiled. "I think we all have."

"I don't think I did, much," Jazz muttered.

"Well, perhaps you can work on it in the future," Orion said. "Now, we have a meeting in a few breems, which I'd like to invite you to attend."

Jazz looked up. "A meeting?"

"Yes," Orion said. "But first, do you mind if I invite someone else in to speak with you?"

"Uh… sure," Jazz said.

An astrosecond later, the door opened and that green and gray mech, Mainspring, came in.

"I don't know if you've been officially introduced to Mainspring yet…" Orion said.

Jazz shook his helm. "I mean, sort of." He searched the older mech's faceplate and saw a sort of guarded curiosity there.

Orion continued. "Mainspring has been running intelligence and special operations here while you were in Kaon."

"Ah," Jazz said. That made sense. "And… I suppose ya'll want me in your department. I mean, I guess I'm already in it, with doin' the whole double agent thing." He'd have to determine whether he could trust this mech.

"Actually," Mainspring said. "We had something else in mind. We were a little worried, but…" he glanced at Orion.

"We can trust him," Orion said. "I'm certain of it."

Jazz looked down, feeling wholly unworthy of Orion's approval.

But he was also curious now. "Okay… what did ya have in mind?"

"Well," Mainspring said. "I've been an archivist, a professor at the Iacon Academy, and a psychologist. I'm good at organization, research, background checks, and that sort of thing. But I have very little experience in the field of actual espionage. You, from what I know, are the exact opposite. So, my idea was to split my department and put you in charge of half of it. Your title would be head of special operations, and I would still be over intelligence."

Huh. Jazz wasn't so sure about that—he understood why they had been so concerned about what he'd done now. They wanted to put him in charge of other mecha and they probably didn't want his recklessness rubbing off on them.

He'd never really been in charge of anyone before. He'd been an adviser to Megatron, but that was different.

"You don't need to decide immediately," Mainspring said, probably picking up on his concern. "In fact, I think if we let you start working right away, Ratchet would have a fit."

Jazz nodded. The orange and white menace was quite prone to those. That mech was crazy. He'd insisted on testing all sorts of things in Jazz's helm to make sure he hadn't damaged anything by tampering with his memories.

At least Ratchet cared, though—that was more than Jazz deserved, given their history.

"But if you're willing to take the position…" Mainspring trailed off.

"Let me get this straight," Jazz said. "I'd be in charge of the field work."

"Yes," Mainspring said.

"And you'd do all the paperwork?"

"Yes. And we could also keep an optic on each other, just in case. It's not good to have just one person in charge of all the information."

Jazz nodded. That whole situation sounded too good to be true.

If only he was qualified for that sort of thing. Orion might trust him, but Jazz doubted other mecha would if they knew who he was. "Well… I'd love ta take ya up on that. But in all your background checks, did ya happen ta do one on me?"

"Yes," Mainspring said. "Quite an extensive one, actually."

"Then ya'll know I'm probably not the sort of mech ya want in charge."

Mainspring nodded. "You do have a point. However, while you made some very poor decisions in your past, I think it was due more to bad judgment than a complete lack of morals."

Jazz looked down. "I don't see how that's much better."

"It's significantly better, so long as you're willing to learn from your mistakes," Mainspring said. "But if you're still concerned about your qualifications, I'd be happy to talk to you in private after the meeting."

Jazz looked at Mainspring's faceplate. He seemed honest. Too honest to be head of intelligence. But then again, they were all too honest. Everyone, except for Jazz. "Give me some time ta think about it."

Mainspring nodded.

"Answer's probably yes, because I'm willing ta do anything ya mechs ask me to, but… Yeah, I'll want ta talk to ya after this meeting."

"The meeting is in five breems," Orion said. "I'm sure you need rest, so you don't have to come, but we would be glad to have you there to report on your time among the Decepticons."

Jazz nodded. "I'll be there."

"Thank you."

And with that, they left him alone with his thoughts.

Orion sat at the table between Prowl and Ironhide, and looked around the room. It was time for the meeting to start but there were still a few empty chairs, so he decided to give everyone an extra breem.

He tried to catch Elita's attention, but she was either distracted or intentionally refusing to look at him.

Red Alert came in and made his way to his seat. He looked upset, but that was nothing new.

Then, finally, Jazz slipped in and limped on his peg leg to the remaining seat at the table.

Orion stood. "Welcome, everyone," he said.

"Hey!" Ratchet snapped, glaring at Jazz. "What are you doing out of my office?"

Jazz shrugged with a small smirk. "I don't know, mech… I can't remember."

"You—"

"Ratchet, I invited him," Orion said.

Ratchet glared across the table at Jazz, who leaned back in his chair, still smirking. That was a dangerous game—Orion might want to talk to Jazz about not goading the irritable medic.

Also, now the attention of the entire room was on Jazz.

"Um, as you can see," Orion said. "We have Jazz with us again. For anyone who doesn't already know, he was acting as a double agent, sending us information from the Decepticons. It is because of his efforts that we were able to evacuate so many mecha from Tarn."

Not everyone seemed happy to hear that. Notably, Ironhide crossed his arms and narrowed his optics, and Chromia frowned suspiciously. Jazz himself looked uncomfortable, which, from Orion's memory of the mech, seemed unusual.

"Ok," Ironhide said. "How did he get past Soundwave?"

"He—"

Optimus cut Ratchet off. "That isn't relevant for this conversation. You can ask him later, Ironhide."

"Why is he here?" Red Alert said. "I mean, I know why he's here, but why is he here in this meeting?"

"I would like him to report on his time among the Decepticons," Orion said. "And contribute to the meeting. We may integrate him into the command element in the near future as well."

"We can't trust him!" Red Alert insisted.

"I believe we can," Prowl said, before Orion could speak. "After all, if he were untrustworthy, would he have been willing to put himself in so much danger?"

"We don't know what happened while he was with the Decepticons," Red Alert hissed. "He doesn't even know—"

"I have decided to trust him," Orion said. "Red Alert, if you have concerns, please come to me with them later. Now, Jazz, do you have anything to report?"

Jazz shrugged. "Do ya have any questions?"

"Well you could start by giving us some numbers," Prowl said. "Recruitment estimates, resources. We have a little of that from your previous reports, but it would be good to get some more details."

Jazz nodded, and launched into a casual analysis of the Decepticon forces. He said a few things that Orion could tell might suggest the Decepticons were currently weak to an attack.

He was certain Prowl would bring that up to him later, but he resolved not to change his mind. They would not attack first.

When Jazz was finished, Orion thanked him, and he sat back in his seat, arms crossed.

"All right," Orion said. "Elita, do you have anything to report."

"Actually, yes," Elita said quietly. "And… it's not really good news."

The room fell quiet.

"So," she said. "It seems Megatron's up to new tricks. He's started spreading all kinds of rumors about us, especially about Optimus." She met Orion's optics, and he could tell something was wrong.

"What kind of rumors?" Mainspring asked.

"What the pit can you say about Optimus?" Ironhide demanded. "I doubt he's done anything underhanded in his entire life."

"Oh, Megatron's thought of things," Elita said. "Some are outright lies, but others have half truths in them. For example, Alpha Trion, who was on the Council, was his mentor. Megatron's using that to say that Orion's in cahoots with the Council. Also, how improbable it is that they voted unanimously to make him Prime when the Council are almost never unanimous. The fact that we actually have been trying to work with the Council doesn't help. And that's just the beginning. There are all sorts of terrible things being said about Orion…sorry, Optimus, by Megatron."

Silence fell around the table. Orion remembered those seekers. They had suggested kidnapping him and taking him to Megatron—maybe they'd taken their ideas to him instead.

"Is it affecting recruitment?" Prowl asked.

Elita looked to Chromia

"We can't tell," Chromia crossed her arms. "Recruitment has slowed down, but that might not be related. If it's really bad, though, it might affect recruitment in the future."

"Are we doing anything to assure mecha the rumors are false?" Mainspring asked.

"We're trying to counter them with the truth, yes," Elita said. "But it's hard not to make it sound like we're making up excuses."

"You know," Chromia said. "Why don't we just do it back to him?"

"No," Orion said. "Keep trying to spread the truth. I may have made mistakes in my life but this isn't—and should never be—about me. I'm sure nothing false will be a permanent problem."

"I don't know about that," Elita looked worried. "If mecha think you're siding with the Council, then they're going to join the Decepticons, and once they've done that, they'll be told even more lies about the Autobots, and you."

"So we should put some propaganda about Megatron out there," Chromia said again. "We don't have to lie. He's a fragging psychopath—it wouldn't be hard to find some dirt on him."

"I do not feel comfortable with that," Optimus said.

"Oh, come on," Chromia said. "We all know he's crazy. Why not tell the world that?"

"What can we say, though?" Prowl asked. "That he's a gladiator who offlined other mecha in the pits? That he overthrew Kaon? That he wants to use violence to solve the world's problems? Everyone already knows all of those things."

"So what do you suggest then, if you're such a genius?" Chromia snapped.

"I don't know." Prowl said coldly. "But countering rumors with more rumors will spread confusion."

"So what do we do?" Elita asked. "Any other ideas?"

They all looked to Orion.

"Perhaps I should get out more," he said. "I can do more interviews, talk to more mecha. We have to show them who we are, not just tell them. Will you work on setting some things up for me—opportunities for me to speak to mecha?"

Elita nodded. "I can. Are you sure you'll have time?"

"I will make time."

It probably meant he wouldn't be getting enough recharge. Then again, hadn't Yoketron said a lack of recharge was part of the job description for army commanders? He should get used to it.

"Is there anything else, Elita?" Orion asked.

"Just the stats report," Elita said. "Which is in everyone's agenda. Please look it over. Ask me if you have questions."

"Thank you," Orion said. "Mainspring, do you have anything to report?"

"Yes," Mainspring said. "Now that Jazz is back, we don't have anyone in Kaon. This means that next time Megatron attacks, it's likely we will have little to no warning."

"It's not possible to get someone else there?" Ironhide said. "Or send Jazz back?"

"So long as Megatron has a telepath working for him, it will be very dangerous to send anyone to Kaon," Mainspring said.

"Random side note," Jazz said. "Back before the split, when we were all one big happy club… I could swear I overheard someone saying something about another telepath. Is there one somewhere?"

Orion blinked. "I… yes. But he's a youngling, and I don't know where he is. I believe Soundwave helped him go into hiding."

"Wait," Chromia said. "There's another telepath? How?"

"There's what?" Red Alert demanded. "Where? Why didn't I know about this? That's an enormous security threat! And you said Soundwave knows where he is?"

"He is not a threat," Orion said. "And it was important to keep his existence secret in order to protect him."

"Hmm," Jazz said. "But if Soundwave's the one who hid him, then Red's right, and the 'Cons know where he is… of course, I never heard ol' visor-face mention him."

"Soundwave was very protective of the mechling," Ratchet said. "I doubt he'd give Megatron Blaster's location."

"Do you know where he is?" Jazz asked.

Ratchet looked uncomfortable.

"Look," Jazz said. "I don't care if Soundwave likes him, as soon as Megatron finds out he exists and that Soundwave can find him, he'll be in danger. Soundwave—"

"No," Ratchet growled. "You don't know Soundwave. He would never let anyone—"

"But if he believes what Megatron is doing is right, he might show up and try ta talk the mechling inta joining the Decepticons," Jazz said. "We can't let that happen. If there's another telepath, we need him on our side."

"He's a youngling!" Ratchet said again. "We can't recruit a youngling!"

"I didn't say we should recruit him," Jazz said. "Not yet, at least, not until he's an adult. But we gotta make sure the Decepticons don't recruit him, cuz I don't think Megatron would care how old he is."

"Ratchet's right," Orion said. "We can't recruit him. But I do think it would be good to offer our protection. Ratchet, do you know where Blaster is?"

Ratchet sighed. "Yes, I do."

"Will you go and talk to him then, and whoever his caretakers are? If you can, bring them back here so I can talk to them personally."

Ratchet nodded. "I can't make any promises. I don't think that youngling likes me very much."

"Thank you for being willing to go and speak with them," Orion said. "Hopefully if they understand that Blaster is in danger, they'll be willing to let us help."

There was nodding around the table, but Orion almost wished the subject hadn't come up. He agreed with Ratchet that Soundwave would probably protect Blaster, unless Megatron found out about him from another source.

And now a whole room full of mecha knew about him.

"In regard to this subject," Orion said. "I want you all be aware that the knowledge of this mechling's existence should be kept confidential. The more mecha there are who know, the more likely it is that Megatron will find out about him. I trust all of you in this room, but please don't share this with anyone else."

He looked around, meeting everyone's optics.

"Thank you," he said. "Prowl, do you have anything to report?"

The meeting continued. Jazz occasionally chimed in with thoughts or ideas, and Orion realized they had missed his unique perspective and problem solving skills. In his own way, he was almost as brilliant as Prowl.

When the meeting was over, Orion waited for everyone else to file out of the room.

He only had a few joors before he would need to attempt the third trial. Yoketron had refused to tell him what it was, and so he was nervous.

"You coming?" Ironhide said, and Orion looked up from the table. He had hoped to spend a breem alone in the meeting room to think.

"I… yes."

He could go to his office instead. He would take a few breems to think, and maybe meditate before checking the eternally growing to-do list Prowl kept up-to-date for him.

He really should get someone else to do that. Prowl was already busy with his own work.

Ironhide dragged him to the main room to get some energon, then let him go. He subspaced the cube and made his way to his office.

Much to his surprise, he found it occupied.

The door slid closed behind him. Elita was sitting in the chair across from his desk with her back to him. Even without the bond, he knew her well enough to see she was upset about something. He tried to walk quietly around the desk and then sat down, facing her.

She wouldn't look at him.

He waited for her to speak, not sure how to ask what was wrong.

"Orion," she said at length. "I… I just have a question… before…"

She trailed off and was quiet so long Orion felt compelled to break the silence. "What is it?"

"Don't," Elita still wouldn't look at him. "Don't talk. Just let me ask, all right?'

He searched her faceplate. What was going on? She had been quiet at the meeting, but she hadn't seemed that upset. Or maybe he just hadn't noticed.

"Orion, did you know?"

Orion blinked. "Did I know…"

"Stop," Elita said. "Did you know you were going to be the Prime? Did he… did Alpha Trion ever tell you?"

Orion stared at her.

"He told other mecha," she said, still studying her hands. "He told a lot of other mecha, mostly in secret. Perceptor knew. I asked him. He knew. Other mecha knew. Didn't he ever tell you?"

"No." Orion said, wondering where this was going.

"Couldn't you have guessed, though? You're not stupid."

"I didn't know." Orion said, wondering why this was upsetting her so much.

"Did you meet with him? The orn before going before the Council, did you meet with Alpha Trion?"

"What?"

"Did you?"

"No. I hadn't seen him for decaorns."

"I couldn't remember. It seemed like you disappeared for a while, and I know Alpha Trion came to Mirage's tower… but that was after, wasn't it?"

"Why is this so important?"

Finally, she looked up at him, with a shocked, hurt expression on her faceplate.

What?

Confused, he continued speaking. "I promise I didn't know I was going to be appointed as the Prime. I had every intention of following the plan to demand they appoint Megatronus to the position. Alpha Trion never mentioned it to me, nor did Perceptor or anyone else."

Elita sighed, then shuttered her optics. "All right. I'm sorry, it was a silly question. I already knew you didn't know, I just… never mind."

Suddenly, he understood.

If he had known he would become a Prime, then he would have known their bond would break. It was common knowledge that Primes couldn't have bonds.

He would have known how badly he was going to hurt her. He would have chosen to hurt her.

"I'm sorry to bother you," Elita got up.

Orion stood as well. "Wait."

She started for the door, but he followed her and caught her arm. "Elita, you don't think I would…"

"I said it was a silly question."

"I would never… Ellie, I couldn't have… I didn't know. Please believe me. If I'd known… if they'd let me choose, I would have refused. I didn't want this, and I didn't know it was going to happen."

"But you didn't," she said quietly.

"What?"

She looked at him again, this time with barely-concealed accusation in her optics. "You didn't refuse. When they appointed you as a Prime, you had a choice, didn't you?"

It felt like someone had poured coolant in his spark chamber.

He let go of her arm.

Her optics widened. "Oh, Primus…" she said, covering her mouth. "I'm sorry."

Orion looked down.

She stepped toward him and reached out, but stopped. "Orion?"

He couldn't say anything.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean…"

"No," Orion managed to whisper. "Don't apologize. You're right."

She backed away, and another long silence stretched between them.

"I..." Elita said. "I should finish compiling a list of the rumors and send it to you so you can look over them and be prepared to answer questions about them."

"Thank you," Orion said.

"I'm sorry I questioned you. And I didn't mean to accuse you of..."

"It's all right," Orion said.

"I'll see you later." She left, and Orion walked around and sat at his desk again.

He stared down at the smooth surface for a few astroseconds.

Alpha Trion hadn't mentioned anything about Orion becoming a Prime, though now that he thought back, the old mech had probably been trying to prepare him.

If Alpha Trion had told him outright, he would have refused the responsibility. That orn, though, standing before the Council, the words had just come out. He had agreed to it because, for an instant, it had felt right. It had felt like it was meant to happen. But maybe he could have said no. Maybe he should have said no. Did a part of him really want the power?

It wasn't worth it. Someone else would have been better at this. Someone smarter or stronger. A better leader. Someone who didn't doubt himself so much. Someone who knew he had accepted the position for the right reasons, and not on a whim.

But he had agreed, and he couldn't change that now and he didn't have time to sit and wallow. He looked hopelessly at all of the notes and datapads strewn across his desk and was hit by a sudden wave of exhaustion. He fought it off—it was still early in the orn. He had no business feeling so tired.

And he needed to get things done before he went to meet with Yoketron.

Keepsake looked at Blaster, silently asking him whether it was all right to open the door. You never knew, these orns. Blaster hesitated, then nodded. Cam came in as Keepsake headed for the doorway. He stood and watched, and Keepsake could feel his worry through their bond.

She opened the door.

Ratchet.

"Oh!" she said. "Come in! Come in!"

The young mech stepped in and the door shut behind him. He stiffened a little as Keepsake embraced him.

She pulled him into the front hallway and then reached out to shut the door behind him.

"Mechling," Cam smiled. "It's been too long. How are you?"

"No better than anymech else these orns," Ratchet stepped back.

"Come," Keepsake said, leading them into the front room, where Blaster was standing, looking concerned. "Sit down."

Ratchet sat on the bench, and then looked at Blaster. "How are you?"

"Doing okay," Blaster said, lowering himself gingerly down to sit on the floor. "What's going on?" He still seemed tense. Was something wrong? They could trust Ratchet, couldn't they?

"Have you been in contact with Soundwave at all recently?" Ratchet asked.

"No," Cam said. "Is he all right?"

"I assume so," Ratchet scowled. "As far as I know he's online, but he must be out of his fragging processor."

"Is it true he joined the Decepticons?" Keepsake asked.

Ratchet nodded.

Keepsake's spark sank, and Cam looked down. She knew he was as confused as she felt. From all reports, Megatron had been the cause of a lot of death and destruction… or so they'd thought. Now, no one knew anything. She didn't want to believe Soundwave had sided with that gladiator, or that he would participate in so much violence...

"Why?" Blaster asked.

"I have no idea," Ratchet said.

"He has to have some reason," Cam said.

"Or he's gone insane," Ratchet repeated. "In any case, I'm here because we just realized that you aren't safe, especially him," he nodded at Blaster. "Before too long, the Decepticons will find out about him and come kidnap him. They'll want him on their side."

Cam shook his helm.

"No," Keepsake said. "You know Soundwave wouldn't let that happen."

"Maybe not now," Ratchet said. "But mecha change. And if Megatron finds out about Blaster at all, he'll come looking."

"So," Blaster said quietly. "You came to recruit me first."

Cam looked at Ratchet sharply, and Keepsake could feel his alarm over their bond.

Ratchet looked down. The young medic seemed old, suddenly, and tired.

"Is that true?" Cam asked. "Did you come here to try and rope us into joining the Autobots?"

"I'm sure that if you prefer," Ratchet said. "They'll find somewhere for you to hide. They'll relocate you somewhere safe, and you won't have to worry. However, we could use your help, Blaster, once you're old enough."

Blaster crossed his arms nervously.

"Right," Cam said, feeling protective now, almost angry. "Relocate us. Hide us. That doesn't sound suspicious at all. What's to keep you from locking us up somewhere? Your Prime's already shown he doesn't care about laws. Is this some kind of trick?"

Ratchet stiffened.

"Cam," Keepsake said.

"I am certain," Ratchet said. "That this is not a trick. Orion would never do something like that."

"I think…" Blaster said quietly. They all turned and looked at him. Steeljaw came up next to him and sat, watching Ratchet with a guarded expression.

"I think I want to help," Blaster said. "If it really is… if the Autobots really do need me. But I just can't believe Soundwave would… I don't want to be on the opposite side from him."

"Believe me, none of us do," Ratchet said. "And none of us understand why either. Look, I can't explain things as well. Come talk to Orion. He understands that the most important thing is to keep you safe. That's why I'm here—we're worried about you. That'll be foremost in his processor as well. You don't want to wait for the Decepticons to come. They won't be so accommodating."

"I'm not entirely sure how wise it is for us to let either side of this conflict know where we are," Cam said.

"Cam." Keepsake said again.

This was Ratchet. Even if Cam disagreed with him, that was no reason to get so defensive.

"Soundwave was like a creation to us," Cam said. "In a way, so were you. But now you're both grown and you've made your own decisions. It takes two sides to fight. How can you be certain there's a right or wrong and that you aren't wrong? Or that you aren't both wrong?"

"The only thing the Autobots have done is help refugees escape from…"

"Yet," Cam said. "The only thing yet. But if your leader is so big on solving this without violence, why is he raising an army? And why did he attack the groundbridge stations if he wants to keep the peace?"

"Well, as far as the army's concerned, the Council insisted…"

"So he is working with the Council?"

"He's not! I mean, he's trying, but who can really work with those…"

"Why?" Cam insisted. "Why is he working with them if he was supposedly trying to fight against their corruption?"

Ratchet glared at him. "You've been listening to the rumors, haven't you?"

"I don't need rumors," Cam said. "There are cold hard facts to consider, and those facts raise some very important questions, Ratchet. Did you know he met secretly with Alpha Trion, who is a mech on the Council, just the orn before he was voted as Prime? And can you possibly believe that the Council would ever 'elect' someone who they couldn't control?"

"What?" Ratchet sputtered. "I… look, I've known Orion for vorns. He's a good mech!"

"Have you known him longer than you've known Soundwave?" Cam asked. "Soundwave's the one who can read processors. And you said it yourself—mecha can change. Are you really sure you're following the mech you think you are?"

Ratchet narrowed his optics. "You have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Stop!" Blaster said.

"But you know what?" Ratchet got to his pedes. "Believe the lies if you like! Searchlight would have seen the truth."

"Get out!" Cam said.

"Fine!" Ratchet stormed out of the room, down the hall. Keepsake watched him, wishing she could call out to him.

She heard the door shut behind him, then looked back at Cam, sending him a slightly reproachful feeling over their bond.

Cam sighed and sat down on the bench, looking and feeling defeated. "I'm sorry," he said.

"You're apologizing to me?" Keepsake came over and sat next to him.

Cam shook his helm. "He's being misled," he muttered. "Did you hear how defensive he got?"

Keepsake smiled and put her hand on top of his. "You didn't do much better."

"I know. But at least I had an argument. He didn't even have anything to defend that mech with." He sighed. "Of course, I doubt that Megatron's right either. Or the Council. Or anyone. I don't know what to do."

Keepsake looked down.

"We can't stay here, can we?" Blaster asked.

"No," Cam said. "We can't."

The reality of that thought hit Keepsake. They'd lived in this apartment for nearly thirty vorns. They'd raised their only creation in this apartment. There were dents in the walls from Searchlight playing as a sparkling.

She didn't want to think about leaving.

"Where will we go?" Blaster asked.

Cam looked down. He didn't seem to have an answer.

Keepsake took in a deep vent, trying to think positively. There was no point in moping, especially if her mechling was in danger. "It'll work out," she said. "Somehow or other. We'll find somewhere to wait out this war, where we won't be found, and everything will work out for the best." The words sounded hollow, even to her.