Hey Everyone!

It's a magical chapter! Finally got around to updating this. Ran into some writer's block but managed to get right back on track. I got dragged into some different fandoms for a bit. These fandoms included Vampire Knight and Thunderbirds. I was even inspired to write a oneshot for Thunderbirds! :) Yep, a whole 3k oneshot. So, now that I've gotten those fandoms out of my system I'm back into Transformers. I guess I also haven't been so into this fandom due to a lack of updates or the completion of a lot of stories on my favourites/alerts list.

It's been so long since the last chapter that I can' remember who i owe high grade to! Well, the competition is still standing for the 100th review. Thanks to everyone so far who has been reviewing/favouriting/alerting this story and myself! :) Well, here's the chapter and I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 26

In the following vorns the war changed and morphed. Originally bots had flocked to the Autobots and Decepticons to join up, the ranks remained full despite losses and both factions were doing well despite circumstances. Such rapid sign-up couldn't be sustained though, there was only so many bots on Cybertron fit for active duty or who actually wanted to be involved.

The cities became ghost towns, no bot to be seen. There were craters everywhere, signs of battle everywhere you looked. Buildings bore the mark of laser fire while in alleyways you could find any number of greyed frames.

The bots were cycled through the bases with speed. Those who did well lived on, through the orns, decaorns and eventually the vorns. Those who just couldn't pick up the knack of fighting were killed within their first orn. The general rule was, if you lived through your first three orns out fighting you were good for the next few vorns. In each bots first few days they would see any number of comrades fall to the Decepticons, the faction outnumbering the Autobots.

It didn't help that the Decepticons were built for fighting, unlike the Autobots. So many of the Decepticons were fighters, gladiators or even mining mechs. The mining mechs' strong armour and tall, broad frames did them in good stead on the battle field and the gladiators' training kept them alive and functioning. It was those built for peace, for office work that didn't survive.

Training camps were set up but even then, the instructors for the Autobots were much inferior to those that served the Decepticons. Early in the fighting the city of Vos aligned itself with the Decepticons, giving them the advantage of air dominance. The factions were so unbalanced it was a miracle that the war wasn't won within a vorn.

The only thing that kept the Autobots going, that stopped the Decepticons from winning was their experienced tactical sector. Time and time again the troops would hear cool, calm and collected voices over their secure comm. lines, keeping them in position and coordinating the defence or attack. The troops came to trust one voice over all others-Prowl's.

It was an easy pattern to see, to interpret. More bots came back from the attacks or defences coordinated by the black and white door winger than ones coordinated by any of the other tacticians. The pattern might not have been seen by those in the tactical sector other than Prowl but it was certainly seen by those higher up the chain of command and the troops.

Smokescreen remained in command of the tactical sector until a vorn into the all out war, at which time the new commander was brought in. Smokescreen had certainly made it his mission to annoy and disrupt Prowl at every twist and turn. However the black and white Praxian had made some steadfast friends within the tactical team and so his fellow Praxian found himself thwarted at many times.

His processor, now concentrated solely on battle tactics eased off on it's fritzes. The mech avoided the recreation room as much as possible, dragged there only occasionally by Trailbreaker and Swiftstrike when some sort of party was going on after a particularly good battle. The door winger hadn't heard from the twins in a while but Ratchet, who was now on base, reassured him that they were fine and annoying the slag out of some poor bots over at the Tyger Pax base which had been re-established.

Prowl never realised it but he became a fixture of the base, a constant. He was someone many relied upon without even realising it. His battle plans, once pushed aside in favour of others were now given top priority. Every battle he was on the command deck, more often than not coordinating efforts.

The new head of the tactical sector hated him almost as much as Smokescreen had however this mech had a whole different reason for it. Apparently, his battle plans were 'too good' or the 'work of a traitor' which was pointed out every time he submitted them. The mech chose to point out every little thing he thought was wrong with the plans, never going back on what he had said, even when the plans were chosen over his own.

The higher ups were paying attention to Prowl now though, specifically demanding his plans in many situations. The first plans to be looked out were always the Praxian's, the first person called upon to the bridge during an attack was always Prowl.

In time Prowl was called upon to train the communications mechs in how to control secure links to all mechs during a fire fight. His main trainee was Blaster although others such as Netwave and Closecom were trained up as well. Soon, he didn't have to connect into the net during an attack or defence, instead he just told Blaster and his co-workers what he wanted done and they relayed it across to each and every bot.

It helped that Blaster was a naturally organised bot, despite outwards appearances. He had a processor built specifically for split thought processors, perfect for such situations where multiple mechs needed to be contacted and controlled for a period of time.

Prowl was allowed to focus more on the tactics, the nitty gritty of the battle rather than the communications side of everything. Just dealing with so many data sources and his other teammates in the tactical department was enough, not to add everything else on top of it.

His team was close nit, tighter than many others however nowhere near as tight as the special ops team was rumoured to be. Prowl was rather an outsider on the team, as much as he was included in everything. He was more involved than the new head of the team but less than the others in the division.

The mech's in his department didn't get changed up all that much, thanks to the fact that the Iacon base was the Autobot's main stronghold. This absence of changing staff meant that they became closer as a group, working better together. Once people got shifted into the base it was rare that they were shifted out again. The sprawling stronghold was key to the training of the new recruits, development of weapons and control of all assets.

The upper ranks started to get targeted by the Decepticon assassins, the effect visible to everyone. Morale lowered significantly across all areas of the base, even Prowl was slightly affected by it all. These new attacks kept everyone on their toes, the black and white mech most of all. With so many possible ways for the heads of divisions to be targeted many new plans for their safety needed to be drawn up, especially in relation to possible battle scenarios.

Nothing major came to affect Prowl until he was approached in relation to drawing up some specific plans for the Special Ops teams. He wasn't approached in the planning area for the tactical division, instead he was payed a visit late at night in his quarters.

Walking quietly through the hallways Prowl held his energon cube loosely in one servo. The lights in the hallways were dim, accounting for the time it was. It was early in the orn, well past the usual shift times. Those that were up and moving about were doing so quietly so as not to disturb the majority of the occupants of the base.

The door winger had been up late yet again working on the scenarios for the division heads, a task that was extremely arduous. So far the only plans which had been extensively drawn up were the ones protecting Optimus Prime. The next to be worked on were the ones protecting the head of Special Operations. Those would take much longer than the Prime's to draw up, simply because of all the added variables.

Door wings held high Prowl palmed open the door to his room. His quarters had been changed from the on shared with Bumblebee due to the odd hours he was now working. Of course these hours weren't forced upon him but he stuck to them anyway.

The lights in his room flickered on as he entered, shadows still encompassing many of the corners of the area. The berth sat along one side, very invitingly to the tired tactician. Prowl yearned to just lay down on the berth and recharge, however he perched upon the edge of the smooth surface, sipping at his energon cube.

Lately he had become very eclectic in his remembrance to refuel. More often than not he would skip various refuelling times, not out of necessity but out of sheer plain thoughtlessness. Although the battle computer fritzs had become less intense he was finding that there were many other issues now instead. Just one of these was his forgetfulness in refuelling or other tasks pertaining to his frames continuing function.

Sitting there, wings pressed against his back and sensors running on their lowest function, the black and white mech didn't notice the other frame until it was too late. Servos twisted him around with ease, shoving him into the berth, faceplate down. The energon cube went skidding across the room, the second hard servo yanking his arm deep into his back.

Lip plates parted in a hiss. The battle computer came whirring to life, all energon in his systems now diverted to his primary defence mechanism. The sensors on his door wings were set alight with pain but pre written coding overrode the messages to his processor. Optics were bright in the darkness, the only thing that could be seen was the pale orange colour of the berth below him.

The slim, nondescript frame of Prowl's attacker was illuminated in the dim light of the room. Optics which should have been bright, piercing were dark, on their stealth setting. There was nothing to be picked out on this frame, no defining feature. The mech himself was a clean slate, a mech who could change his personality, his thoughts to fit the bot he had to imitate or make up.

Prowl's battle systems sprang to life with the input of his battle computer. Energon which he should have been storing now being drained into the long dormant systems. The battle computer statistics were clear. This was an enemy, the mech needed to be neutralised. He was a threat to Prowl's wellbeing.

In response the mech's battle systems became stronger, becoming the main system running. Silently, oh so silently these systems ran. The mech didn't make a sound, nothing to give him away. A knife slipped from its hidden area in his wrist, to rest lightly against the back of Prowl's neck.

Vocaliser set to neutral the mech spoke, "I need you to do a job for me Prowl and it needs to be done urgently. Think you can handle it?"

Prowl didn't move, the voice sounded eerily loud in the quiet room. Nothing could be picked out about this voice, it was as non-descript as the computer voices. If he hadn't known better he would have thought it was the bases intercom system alerting him about an upcoming drill.

"Not until I know who you are and why your are here. Who sent you?" the door winger replied, voice strong despite his current position.

"You don't need to know anything other than I am from the Special Ops department and the message comes from higher up the food chain. Can you undertake the task?"

Prowl deliberated. This was just the kind of thing that Special Ops was want to do however it could be a Decepticon trick. "Yes, I shall undertake this task, so long as it is appropriate."

The non-descript silver mech leaned in close to Prowl, almost every cillimetre of his body coming into contact with Prowl's. Lip plates close to the black and white mech's ear the special ops mech whispered, "There is a mission coming up, you need to do up the plans for it. You will be sent more information via your personal communication link. You are not to speak to anyone about undertaking this task or the fact I was here, understood?"

"I understand," Prowl said, his own voice barely louder than a whisper.

"Shut down your optics." The command was immediately followed. "I am going to let go of you now, stay like this, exactly like this and count to 100 slowly. You are then allowed to move around."

The servos pressed upon the door winger were removed quickly, lifted free of his frame. The absence of error messages flashing across Prowl's HUD was a relief. He didn't move, not one energon line as he started counting.

Not a sound was heard until the door swished open and closed again. No footsteps, no sounds of systems running, the mech was silent and stealthy. He wouldn't be spotted on camera, no, noone would know of his late night venture.

Prowl counted well past 100 before he powered on his optics and moved back into a standing position. His optics fell to the energon cube across the room from him, its contents now spread across the floor. Lifting his line of sight the tactician found another, fresh cube of energon and a stock-standard data pad sitting next to it.

Walking over to it Prowl glanced down. "Here is a replacement cube. Refuelling more often would be in your best interests, we can't have mistakes." The cube grasped in one servo the black and white mech erased the memory of the data pad and placed it upon his desk. A cloth was removed from subspace and he slowly mopped up the mess upon his floor. Depositing both cubes in the trash the tactician powered down for the night. There would be more work than ever to complete now, and some of it would have to be impeccable.

I know where I'm going with this story now so all cool. i'll try to write some more tonight. Might be a while until my next update though. Now that you've read it, please review!

Question: What was your favourite episode from G1?

Mav