Disclaimer: All recognisable characters and places belong to HasTak, anything you don't recognise is probably mine.
Part 5: Changes
Chapter 5 of 6
Prowl followed Quickquadrant out of the briefing room and down the corridor.
The presentation had gone very well and Prime had declared that he should lead all of the related planning. That had clearly not pleased the Chief Tactical Officer, but Prime had been insistent and there was nothing Quickquadrant could do about it. Prowl could only hope that the order had not damaged his future working relationship with the senior tactician.
"Out." Quickquadrant dismissed his aides curtly as they entered the tactical office.
"Sir, I'm sorry. Chief Curveball had already learned of my plan and expressed it to Prime before I was able to outline the draft for you."
"So I understand." Quickquadrant nodded, walking over to the sideboard. "High grade?"
"No thank you, sir."
"Have some anyway."
He turned back and offered a cube which Prowl accepted but did not drink from, then Quickquadrant indicated they should both sit on a bench along the wall.
"The fact is, Prowl," the CTO mused, "up until now I've seen no particular indication that you're good for anything more than administration. I was actually beginning to consider transferring you to either Safestore's staff or to Copperplate's in spite of that precious valt-split processor of yours. It was a close thing, I tell you."
Prowl carefully clamped down on the urge to point out that every time he had attempted to prove himself he had been blocked, and simply retained an attentive expression as his superior continued.
"This, though. This plan is inspired. Dangerous, oh yes, but inspired."
"Dangerous, sir?"
"If it goes ahead as you intend, there will be no prior warning to the evacuation. As there can't be, I understand completely. But panicked mecha don't think. We could easily lose some to vacuum exposure."
"Drills are regularly scheduled." Prowl mused, comparing the results of the past few trials to the scenario to establish a likelihood for panic.
"Drills are fine, but not everyone takes them seriously. Besides, if you don't have a fixed plan for where everyone is going to go, it's going to make planning far more complicated from that point on."
Prime had approved it. And Prowl was certain it would work. Yet Quickquadrant was the senior expert here: perhaps he was missing something after all.
"You believe the plan is unworkable?" Prowl asked, troubled.
"Not at all." he was assured. "Just needs a bit more work."
"I will continue to work on it."
"Indeed you should, and I will help you. You're going to be very busy. Unfortunately you will have to continue with your other existing duties on top of this work, at least until we have found an effective replacement. I hope you won't find that too much of a strain?"
"I will do what is required, sir."
"Very good. Then lets begin."
"And here I thought you were bad at taking your breaks before."
Prowl did not even look up.
"I'm busy, Sideswipe. Was there something you needed?"
"We were supposed to be meeting for a game of Overlord? Like a whole groon ago?"
"Work commitments have taken precedence. I shall reschedule with you."
"When?"
"Later."
"When, later?"
Prowl flashed a brief, irritated glance at him, then back down.
"I don't have time for this. Go and spend time with your brother."
"Ngh. Not right now. He's waxing. He'll be at it for groons. What're you doing, anyway? You missed your rest period."
"I'm working. I'll rest later."
"Working on what?"
Prowl abruptly put down his stylus and moved his hand to hover over the intercom to the security office.
"Leave, Sideswipe, or I will have you removed."
"Okay, okay! Sheesh. Talk about cranky."
"Sideswipe." Prowl warned, his hand moving lower.
"Gotcha. See you later, then."
He hurried out and shut the door, then glared at it.
"Crazy mech."
Curveball nodded to him as he entered the CSO's office and spoke before he had a chance to open with a greeting.
"I hear you need some of my agents to help. What've you got in mind?"
"Three roles. A group to support the evacuation to ensure there are no accidents due to panic. Someone to stay on board to support the mechanical team who will get the Ark to Iacon. Someone to inform the command element at Ovacalix of our intentions regarding their base."
"And Iacon?"
Prowl shook his head.
"I am able to pass on that information securely myself."
"Ah, your secure encryption with Blaster. Useful, that."
"Indeed."
"So. You're not going to try to tell me who I should put where? Or how many?"
"I believe you are better placed to make those decisions yourself."
"Smart mech. Took me vorns to get Quad to accept that. I think you and me're going to get on just fine."
"Thank you, sir. Please let me know when your agents have been briefed and who to use as contacts."
"Smart and concise. Good. I think I'm starting to see what Jazz sees in you."
The reference caught him by surprise and stung him hard. Whatever Jazz had previously seen in him, it was unlikely that he saw it now.
"Thank you, sir." he repeated quietly then turned and left, wishing he was not quite so aware of Curveball staring at him inscrutably until he was out of sight.
Sideswipe paced, annoyed.
"I don't get it."
"It sounds simple enough to me." Sunstreaker shrugged, laying out the ammunition he wanted to take so he could subspace it in order.
"Too simple, that's the problem."
"What's so wrong about attacking the blockade around Ovacalix?" his brother asked. "We go in, we attack, we either get through or we back off. Simple."
"If it's that simple, why didn't we do it before?"
"How should I know? And how should you know? You're no planner. A plotter, sure, but not a planner. Leave the worrying to the experts."
"Or ask one of them." Sideswipe muttered, heading for the door.
"Where're you going?"
"Out for a walk. I'll be back."
"Frag that." Sunstreaker grumbled, shoving the ammunition into subspace and rising. "I'm coming with you."
"I'm just going to see Prowl. I don't need a bodyguard, you know."
"Just hurry up. I don't want to be late getting down to the shuttles - want to pick my spot."
Sideswipe smiled, pulsing gratitude through the bond between them. Sunstreaker may not be willing to vocalise it, but he also had his concerns about the strange orders they had received and neither of them really wanted to be separated even by a few rooms right now. There was something wrong.
On their way up to the officers level, they passed groups of mecha preparing for the upcoming battle for Ovacalix. There seemed to be movement everywhere, but as they got closer to their destination it grew quieter, and when they reached the command level every single office was empty with the doors open.
"Spooky." Sunstreaker grunted.
"You're telling me." Sideswipe agreed softly, poking his head into Prowl's office, then walking on. "Where are they all?"
"Beats me."
Noise up ahead drew them on, and they found themselves in one of the large briefing rooms. There was no presentation on the screens, simply a countdown - peculiarly, one which did was considerably further along in its count than the official one posted on Teletran's noticeboard - and there were a small knot of mecha surrounding Prime who was standing to one side.
Prowl was amongst that group and spotted them almost the same moment Sideswipe noticed him, and he came hurrying over.
"What's wrong? Why are you here?"
"Looking for you. What's going on?"
"We're preparing for the attack." Prowl frowned at him. "And you are not supposed to be here - you should be boarding your shuttle."
"Not for another two breems. Plenty of time."
"Not enough." Prowl countered. "Get moving."
"Problem, lieutenant?" Quickquadrant asked, approaching.
"No, sir." Prowl responded calmly. "These two are just on their way to their shuttle."
"They had best hurry then. We have a schedule to keep."
"Indeed."
"On the other hand," Curveball put in, "it might be handy to have a couple of frontliners with us."
"That is not part of the plan." Quickquadrant disapproved.
"So what? Look after it, Prowl, will you? Quad, come and show me the distribution again will you?"
The two senior officers walked away, and Prowl glared at them.
"You are not supposed to be here." he hissed, his doorwings twitching agitatedly. "Why did you ignore your orders?"
"We just wanted to know what was going on." Sunstreaker shrugged. "And there is something going on, isn't there?"
"Of course there is. We're trying to get through to Isobar."
"And attack Ovacalix." Sideswipe added helpfully.
"Yes. And attack Ovacalix."
"And what else?" Sideswipe persisted.
Prowl smoothed the frown off his face and stilled his entire frame. He regarded them silently for a moment, then nodded faintly to himself.
"In a few more clicks, you'll find out. Just do what you're told and stay out of the way."
Apart from the twins turning up at the briefing room, and two medics deciding to ignore the instruction from their own superiors and begin a delicate surgical procedure anyway, and some pranksters fooling about in the washracks when they should have been at their stations, the evacuation went mostly as planned. Almost everyone was scheduled to board their shuttle well in advance of the attack so had somewhere to be which would get them safely away; the rest were guided by their officers and Curveball's helpers.
Once off the Ark the distribution seemed chaotic, but in fact it was perfectly coordinated between Prowl and Quickquadrant as per the carefully prepared plans.
Between them they had worked up over three hundred variations to cover all contingencies and could access them at a click's notice - far more redundancy than Prowl had felt necessary but the CTO had been insistent and it certainly did no harm to be prepared.
Prime himself remained out of sight, unseen by the mecha on the shuttle he boarded thanks to Hound's holograms, and so only the Autobot command staff knew where he actually was. A safety measure Prowl was particularly pleased with when the ship Prime was supposed to board was delayed and he ended up aboard the Escaphalion with the tactical staff. Scenarios 186 and 243 covered that possibility.
With carefully modulated phrasing to feign near panic, Quickqudrant ordered the attack to continue and for the emergency crew on the Ark to get it out of the area. Seeming to break with orders, several of the ships in the fleet insisted on escorting the Ark to safety on Isobar as originally planned. Quickquadrant railed at them, but they ignored orders - as previously instructed - and carried on.
This was the dangerous part.
Those ships were in fact nowhere near the Ark, and getting further away with every moment. So long as the Decepticons were only able to intercept the encrypted transmissions the flagship was safe, but if they were within visual or scanning range the enemy would realise that the Ark was alone and heading in a completely different direction.
Prowl kept his attention focused on the monitors. Worst case scenario, the Ark would be seen and attacked and lost along with its crew. But all past data suggested that the enemy could break their standard communications encryption, and the one thing that had been made very clear was that Prime was definitely no longer aboard the Ark.
A defective and all-but-abandoned flagship was a far less tempting target than an uncoordinated attack fleet. The Decepticons should aim at the Ovacalix fleet. Or at least at the Isobar group. Which meant that they should appear on scope at any moment.
"Sir!" an ensign called out, directing his comments to Quickquadrant. "The Fantalex reports a Decepticon raider approaching. No identification yet."
"The Xantium confirms and requests permission to engage."
"The Corabix confirms and requests permission to engage."
"The Covenant reports no Decepticon signals at this stage - proceeding towards Isobar."
"Sir?"
"Your orders, sir?"
"Transmit plan 6-A47829 but take no action until we give the word." Quickquadrant instructed, then smiled as Optimus strode in.
"We're ready to begin, it seems."
"Indeed. Prowl, this was your plan. Give the order."
Prowl stepped up to the command dais and looked down at the waiting communications staff. A couple of them glanced at Quickquadrant, clearly confused, but most were attentive.
It did not matter. Prime had delegated to him, so they would do as he instructed, and he was more than ready to direct them.
"Hail all ships in the fleet. Attack on contact."