Optimus stared up at the nearest corner of the AllSpark, bathing in the gentle energy that radiated from it to embrace his frame in healing warmth. It had been far too long since he had last stood before this relic and Optimus felt a pang run through his spark where it touched the Matrix. He had not so much as laid optics on the AllSpark in nearly a decavorn and now he was there only to contemplate removing it from where it had dwelt for countless eons.

The true audacity of that idea made the great mech shudder internally. With suddenly hesitant steps, the Prime forced himself to walk toward the AllSpark, which seemed increasingly imposing as he drew near.

The Cube rested in a special cradle that held it suspended so that even a mech of Optimus' stature needed to reach up to actually touch it. However it was surrounded by a honeycomb of scaffolding to allow the Priests to tend the Cube itself. At this moment, however, the only other mechs present were two of his most trusted Autobots, the Senior Priest and the Lead Guardian. And he knew they would not interfere.

No, this audience was for Optimus alone. Optimus knew from the Matrix that what he was about to do was possible, but had not been done since before the war with the Quintessons, generations ago.

As he came to a stop within touching distance of the AllSpark, Optimus could not shake the spark-deep feeling that he was indeed being studied by the force contained in the Cube above him.

Looking at the glyphs that covered the supernaturally crafted artifact, Optimus deliberately centered himself. He felt the Matrix stirring at the proximity to the AllSpark and was reminded of the power that resided within him and now held him captive between it and the even greater power represented by the Cube. Suddenly, Optimus was scared; he was just a mech, daring to dictate to that which was truly immortal.

Taking in a vent of air, feeling the energy from the AllSpark reach for him, Optimus bared his spark to the power of the Matrix. Invisible energy flared from his chassis, swirling outward to intertwine with that of the Cube and then pulled the blue lightning ghosting across the AllSpark's surface toward him.

Optimus kept frame and processor still as he was subjected to a much more penetrating and enveloping scan than the Priest had given Prowl. Searing warmth spread through his lines, tightening around his spark. The Prime focused on his venting, surrendering as the AllSpark itself tested him, the Prime, in a way that no living mech could.

It had been too long since he had had to face such an examination and Optimus could not help but speculate if that had been a mistake. Had he strayed from the path he had been chosen to follow?

Then the probing abated, though the energy did not release him and Optimus felt more than heard the demand to state his purpose.

The AllSpark is in grave danger and all of Cybertron with it. Optimus formed the thought deliberately.

There was a pause then he was bombarded, not with words but with impressions that were so strong they might as well have been words. Energy can never be destroyed.

But it can be corrupted. Optimus insisted. That is the danger.

Explain.

For the briefest of seconds, Optimus was at a loss, but then the Matrix brushed against his spark again, providing the answer he needed. Lifting his hand reverently, hesitating briefly just centimeters from the AllSpark itself, Optimus touched the surface.

The gently undulating hum of energy increased its tempo at the contact and little arcs of blue lighting danced around his hand. Simultaneously, Optimus felt his memory banks accessed, all of them at once. There was a brief moment of relative stillness and then the AllSpark's response almost thundered through Optimus' very being.

Abomination! Raw fury burned through that single word and it drove Optimus to one knee under the force of it.

Feeling even more like an insignificant creature, Optimus focused on his own agreement with the AllSpark's assessment. But that was not enough as he also felt a demand to know why Optimus had let it get to that point.

Optimus trembled but did not try to contest the AllSpark's judgment that the war itself was his responsibility. It did not matter that it had begun before he had received the Matrix, he was the Prime. He held a responsibility to strive toward the good for every spark it, the AllSpark, had deigned to create.

Grief – grief that was not his own – constricted Optimus, threatening to crush him. But the Matrix burned brightly within his chassis, comforting both the mech and the AllSpark above him. A moment later the overwhelming onslaught backed off enough to allow him to cycle air, though it did not let him so much as lift his gaze as it demanded to know what he as Prime was going to do to protect it.

The temple is at risk and so is the AllSpark. It cannot remain here for we cannot guarantee protection of it in such an exposed position. Optimus answered humbly, his thoughts trembling.

Another lash of ethereal accusation whipped against him before calmness replaced heat and Optimus knew he was expected to continue. He knew his intentions were already known, but he was still being braced, forced to state it all the same.

Optimus released a vent of air, his frame shuddering with the action. The AllSpark must be relocated. I will not allow the Decepticons to gain control of it. Not while my spark still pulses.

He felt that promise taken in by the AllSpark and then wrapped around his spark as an oath he would be held to and Optimus knew that should he fail to protect the AllSpark, his own spark would be required of him. As that understanding settled upon him, his systems hitched.

Along with that understanding, another understanding filled him. Beyond any other goal, it was absolutely imperative that what Megatron planned for the AllSpark – the sparking of drones with no free will at all – never be allowed to happen. As far as Primus was concerned, it was preferable that the AllSpark be destroyed than allowed to become corrupted. And Optimus had been tasked on pain of his own life, to ensure that.

Even so, Optimus knew it was his still choice to accept that burden.

He was Prime, he was the only one who could.

Bowing his helm, Optimus willingly accepted that charge.

Instantly, the noncorporeal vice that had held him all but immobilized on his knees released him. Blue tendrils of energy retracted, curling back into the AllSpark itself. Distantly, Optimus was aware that the gentle thrum of energy had returned to its usual, steadying hum and a sense of peace washed over him.

As Optimus stood he felt the Matrix brush against his spark again, affirming him as it's rightful holder.

Taking in a deep vent of air and cycling it through his systems, Optimus waited until his spark settled. Then he turned to face the small party that had accompanied him. All four of them had armor clamped tightly to their frames in humble submission if not a lick of fear. The three warriors stood ramrod straight as they watched him with awed wariness, but the Priest was bowed low.

Optimus understood. Seldom was it that the Prime acted as High Priest, in fact it had not been done since before Sentinel's tenure. The Senior Priest's deference was as much toward the AllSpark as it was toward the Prime. Optimus paused, standing before them.

The Priest spoke without looking up. "Are you well, Prime?"

Optimus rested a hand on the silver and opalescent mech's shoulder, prompting him to straighten out of his bow. "I am myself, and I have received mandate to proceed with the evacuation of the AllSpark; to do whatever necessary to keep it out of Megatron's custody."

Senior Priest Senecas eyed Optimus for a moment longer, as if trying to determine if the Prime had been significantly changed by what had just happened. Optimus tightened his fingers lightly over the Priest's shoulder guard and smiled.

That only made the Priest frown. A second later a respectful ping registered on Optimus' private communication system. It was Senecas. /Few mechs could come away from something like that unscathed, Prime./

/I did not say that, Senior Priest./ Optimus corrected with a tiny nod. /I merely said I am myself./

The Priest considered him for a moment longer then nodded his acceptance of the answer. "Understood, Prime."

… … …

When the small party returned to the Priest's office, it was to see Prowl bent over a datapad with Groove sitting across from him, where Jazz had been before. While there was no hardline connecting them, it was clear they were collaborating.

Doorwings twitching almost imperceptibly, Prowl looked up as the door slid shut behind them. Then he stood, Groove jumping to his feet as well, gaze ducked submissively. Prowl however looked only at Optimus, his optics bright, before he stepped forward purposefully to meet them in the center of the large chamber.

"Prime?" Prowl asked softly, respectfully, searching his leader's gaze.

Optimus did not answer immediately, realizing painfully that he would need Prowl's assistance in order to fulfill the AllSpark's charge. Despite his own words to the Priest and the Senior Guardian earlier, Optimus was acutely aware Prowl might balk and refuse the ends he had been ordered to take to protect the artifact. While he might be able to order Prowl to do what was needed, Optimus would not take another's free choice away, especially not over something as sacrilegious as destroying the AllSpark.

Speaking slowly, Optimus tried to gauge exactly where Prowl might stand on this matter. "We must not let Megatron gain custody of the AllSpark."

A frown touched Prowl's optics though this expression did not change otherwise. "To what extent?"

Optimus released a vent. Even without the Matrix, Prowl saw more than any mech had a right to at times. Even though his spark casing seemed to constrict, Optimus continued to meet Prowl's gaze and he felt the Matrix back up his conviction. "By any means necessary."

Prowl blinked, doorwings flicking at the nearly palpable wave of determination and power that accompanied those words. Then the Praxian's frame relaxed into a clearly submissive posture. It was not the posture of a military officer accepting an order from a commander, but that of a mere Cybertronian accepting a sacred commission from a High Priest.

"Understood, Prime." Accompanying the tactician's words was a deferential bow of his helm.

Praxian doorwings were already sensitive to the AllSpark's energy. Prowl's were even more so and the residual AllSpark radiation that still clung to Optimus' armor, accompanied by the support of the Matrix, was enough to convince the taciturn mech. The Matrix whispered this understanding to the Prime's spark, along with the reassurance that he would be able to win Prowl's willing cooperation so long as he was honest and forthright with the mech.

Optimus reached forward to put a reassuring hand on the black and white mech's shoulder, trying to convey his appreciation in that one, tiny gesture.

Prowl looked up at the contact and, as their optics met, Optimus was hit with the sensation that Prowl belonged at his side. The feeling struck him just as strongly as it had the first time in the Command Center nearly a vorn previously. For a long moment Optimus found he could not even form words as his systems processed the sensation.

Optic ridges drawing together in obvious concern, Prowl started to speak, "Sir…"

He was interrupted as Groove's vents hitched audibly, a hand going to his external comm.. "They… they're attacking!" His optics widened in panic and his armor trembled. "The Decepticons are attacking! They are in sector five – three – zero by one – nine."

Snapped out of the moment, Prowl whirled to face his assigned bodyguard. "Patch me in."

Groove's optics focused back on him. "But…"

"Do it." The Prime ordered with every ounce of his authority, moving to stand beside Prowl.

Groove shuttered his optics, looking up at the towering mech and then he nodded hastily, sending Prowl the uplink to Simfur's primary communication's grid and sensory net."

Prowl's frame stiffened and his optics unfocused as he accessed the data, his battle and tactical processors whirring up to full combat speeds. He spoke a few seconds later, his tone that of a detached professional. "They are staying to the city's perimeter and are not even trying to make a run for the Temple. It does not correlate unless they are either trying to lure the Guardians away from the temple or are diversion.

Groove shook his helm. "We won't go beyond a two klick radius of the Temple."

Prowl looked at Groove, only half seeing him. "Do the Decepticons know this?"

Jazz had somehow materialized at the Prime's side and gave a low growl. "If Diecast is one of 'em, you bet they do."

"So this battle is not aimed at the AllSpark." Prowl murmured, barely sparing the saboteur a glance as he continued to monitor the battle.

"Is that safe to assume?" Ironhide demanded, glancing at Optimus.

"…No." Prowl finally concluded, then he too looked at Optimus. "Simfur's Security Response may be equipped to handle this type of assault on their own. We can help them, but it will compromise the remainder of our mission and we will have to leave and return at a later time."

"We cannot risk the Prime!" Ironhide objected, cannons spinning to life.

"I will not risk the AllSpark." Optimus shot a look at his bodyguard and then refocused on Prowl. "Nor will I risk an entire city, Ironhide, even if there is danger involved. Prowl, is victory possible?"

Prowl nodded slowly. "Yes, even with our numbers. Sir… I suspect a trap."

"Of course it's a trap." Jazz interrupted, engine revving. "Any Autobot would go to their assistance and Diecast knows Prowl is here. He probably suspects at least one more mech more with him."

Considering that Prowl nodded. "In which case, this trap would be designed for me. That means I may be able to…"

"No!" Optimus grabbed Prowl's upper arm, cutting him off. "I will not let you sacrifice yourself."

Prowl actually smirked up at him. "No intention to, Prime. Not when there is another way. So far the sensory nets only show a handful of Decepticons. I believe we should be able to take them. Unless it is a trap and significant numbers remain hidden from the city's sensors."

"It is too risky." Ironhide growled again.

Optimus frowned, looking over his shoulder toward the door of the office and to the street beyond the labrynth of hallways between them and the outside. "It may also be a test. If we don't respond, the Decepticons will know the AllSpark is vulnerable, even with an Autobot presence in the city." With a vent, Optimus looked back at Prowl. "How do we win this?"

Without missing a beat, Prowl laid out the plan. Less than half a breem later, all five of the Autobots were in motion.

Groove grabbed Prowl's arm. "I'm coming with you."

Prowl looked at the younger mech. "We will be well outside the two-klick radius of the Temple's territory."

Groove nodded solemnly, lowering his hand back to his side. "I know. But my mission is to protect the AllSpark. I can best do that if I follow my orders to protect you. If this trap is for you, I have to make sure it doesn't succeed."

Prowl considered those words and the attitude with which they were spoken and frowned. "If you leave your post, you will forfeit your position among the Temple Guardians."

"I know. But it is a necessary price to pay. For the AllSpark." Groove was absolutely serious.

"Are you sure?" Prowl pressed, wanting to make sure.

Groove lifted his chin a fraction. "It is my decision. Yes, I'm sure."

Prowl cast him a tiny smile, glad for the added backup, and instantly added the new variable to his calculations. He was confident Groove would do what was necessary to keep any trap for himself from working and – even if that meant he might be incapacitated by the Guardian in the process – it was a comfort.

… … …

The plan was for Prowl – and now Groove – to join the main body of Simfur's Security Response and hopefully coordinate with them while Optimus led Jazz and Ironhide around to flank the relatively small Decepticon strike team that was harassing the city's defenders.

Despite everyone's protests, First Aid insisted he go with them to the front line. His primary argument had been that since Prowl was joining the Security Response, there would be plenty of protection for him, and chances were they would need a medic. Respecting the white and orange mech's desire and dedication in doing his duty, Prowl had reluctantly accepted First Aid's determination.

Thus the three of them were making their way through the empty streets, all non-combatants having taken shelter when the Decepticons first attacked. They were roughly three-quarters of the way to the the front lines when Prowl first realized something was going horribly wrong.

It began as a faint buzzing in the back of his processor, a teasing hint of something on the edge of his sensory range. It was just growing to the point of distraction when a shadow passed over them.

Instinctively the three mechs dove for cover. Prowl was back on his pedes first, spinning around to face the new threat just in time to see the mech land on a building just beyond the front lines.

Prowl frowned, the buzzing in his processors making it difficult to think clearly. Then he recognized the mech who was now staring intently right at him.

Soundwave.

Prowl bristled, all systems spinning to full readiness and he accessed his communication systems, sending an urgent ping to the Prime and the two warriors with him. This development changed everything. He was already starting his calculations as he addressed the Autbot leader. /Prime, Soundwave is here, he…/

Stabbing pain suddenly lanced through Prowl's processor cutting him off with a squeal of static, but it was not an external attack. It was coming from within his own firewalls. It was as if pieces of his own coding were suddenly rewriting themselves.

Prowl staggered, his hands reaching up to cradle his helm as he sank to one knee, keening in agony.

"Prowl!" Groove was beside him in a sparkbeat, as was First Aid.

Prowl wanted to stand but could not, all his attention now inward as he tried to focus his defenses on the traitorous coding, simply trying to identify the problem.

Because he was looking, Prowl 'saw' two of the broken and inert pieces of the coding Soundwave had implanted prior to his defection link back together. These reconnected fragments were quickly followed by several others, despite how Prowl frantically tried to stop them. But Prowl was still trying to figure out how it was possible let alone how to stop it.

He was about to resort to brute force, even if it fragmented his own processor, when a final piece was added to the reconstructed codes.

As soon as that linkage was made Prowl felt his motor relays fire on their own and he realized with rising panic that he had lost all control of his own frame.

~Megatron was foolish to waste you.~ Soundwave's monotonous rumble invaded Prowl's mind.

Prowl threw himself against his own motor systems and spat venomously back at the telepath. ~I am not going back!~

~Choice is not yours.~ Soundwave returned coolly. ~Resistance is futile.~

As if to prove that point, Prowl's weapons deactivated and he stood back up. As if he were nothing but a drone receiving an order.

"No!" Prowl forced the word out in a low, static laced growl, fighting his motor commands. He dug mercilessly at his own coding and the lines of what he now recognized as a cleverly disguised and previously dormant virus even as his frame took an involuntary step toward Soundwave.

Within the silent confines of his own processor, Prowl screamed as he managed to isolate a small line of code and slice it. Simultaneously his frame stumbled even as it took another step. But it was enough to tell Prowl he could beat this, though whether or not he could do so before he betrayed his friends and his faction he was not so sure.

He was vaguely aware that Groove was tugging on his arm, shouting his name. Then First Aid was also in front of him.

"Something is wrong with him." Groove all but yelled at First Aid.

"You think I can't see that?" First Aid snapped back, desperately trying to catch Prowl's optics. "Prowl!"

"No…" Prowl managed to ground out, the words sounding like they were caught between two misaligned gears. "Soundwave…"

Panting heavily through his vents with the effort, Prowl managed to force himself back to the ground, the impact sending pain signals through his neural grid. His malware programs were still desperately trying to prevent the other segmented codes from reattaching as he fought to tear down the ones that already had.

"He wants me." Prowl gasped, consciously trying to make them aware of the danger, static cutting his voice off as the viral codes began mutating under the attack of his malware programs. Meanwhile, the buzzing in his processor increased in intensity sending a fresh wave of pain that was almost enough to break his concentration entirely.

Beside him, Groove was hyperventilating, looking worriedly at where Soundwave continued to stand proudly on a distant rooftop and the Praxian who was once more staggering back to his pedes.

Though often considered timid, Groove was by no means slow. He could guess what was happening based on what Prowl had said. Engine whining in distress, He powered his strongest weapon: a class seven neural stunner. He did not want to do this, he did not want to hurt another mech, especially not one who he had grown to respect even in the single orn he had known Prowl.

"…You have my permission – should you at any point deem me a threat – to do whatever you must to neutralize that threat." Prowl's words played through Groove's processor again and he knew even without knowing exactly what was going on, that he had to act.

Vents continuing to cycle rapidly, and wanting to look away from what he was about to unleash, Groove fired, hitting Prowl square on the chassis.

White hot agony enveloped Prowl as every motor relay in his frame fired simultaneously, overloading his control systems and shorting them out. Sharp pain stabbed through his electrical systems and then total immobility as his frame fell limply to the ground.

Despite the intense physical discomfort Groove's shot had caused, Prowl's primary reaction was that of relief as he was finally able to divert the processing power that had been struggling to regain control of his frame to fighting the virus itself.

With a purely mental snarl, Prowl attacked the foreign coding with the full force and might of one of the strongest battle and tactical computers ever developed.

Distantly, as he finally started to make progress, Prowl heard Soundwave screech.

… … …

Without the support of the Autobots, the Simfur Security Response was quickly pushed back, closer to where Prowl had collapsed. Ironhide, Jazz and Optimus, summoned by Prowl's abbreviated transmission and then spurred to even more swiftness by First Aid's panicked summons, arrived just as the fighting grew close enough to truly endanger the tactician and the two mechs who were attempting to help him.

Without needing to speak to coordinate their movements, the three warriors positioned themselves to stand between the advancing Decepticons and the fallen tactician.

"What happened?" Optimus demanded.

Groove looked up from where he had crouched protectively over Prowl. "Soundwave, sir. He was… controlling him, I think. Making him do things."

Ironhide growled, the sound that of pure malevolence.

"He was fighting it, sir." First Aid was quick to add. "It wasn't sleeper coding, I don't think. It was different. His mind was still his own."

Ironhide and Jazz both shuddered at the idea of being an unwilling slave to motor controls.

"Here they come." Ironhide spun his cannons, taking aim.

At least the Security Response had taken courage by the Autobot's refusal to retreat further and were rallying around them.

"That stun blast should have worn off by now." Groove murmured uneasily as Ironhide fired at the first Decepticon to come within range.

And still Prowl did not move, his frame haphazardly sprawled where he had collapsed, his optics shuttered and dark.

For nearly eight breems there was nothing and, with his spark signature dampened for the mission, he appeared as an extinguished mech. Only First Aid's assurance, through the vital systems monitoring uplink, that he was actually relatively unharmed physically, gave any of them hope as the battle continued.

Eight whole breems. Then, Prowl gave a low groan.

With a flick of his doorwings, the black and white mech rolled onto his hands and knees. He put his helm in one hand, shuddering. Around him, mechs released vents of air with relief, but Prowl was heedless of their reactions as he shook his helm.

Then Prowl's doorwings flared. His helm snapped up, his optics landing unerringly on the lone figure still standing on the distant building.

"Soundwave." The menacing growl that followed that one designation made even Optimus blink in surprise and shiver.

Like a rocket, Prowl was on his pedes as he darted forward. His energon daggers snapping out of their sheaths and locking into place just as he reached the nearest Decepticon. Every motion swift and without an ounce of wasted energy, Prowl ripped the first Decepticon apart and was slicing through the next before the that one even hit the ground.

Moving through the enemy ranks like a force of nature, distributing death to any mech who dared get in his way, Prowl had only one goal in mind. Totally unaware of the destruction he was causing as he fought his way toward his ultimate target, Prowl moved with a deadly grace and lethal precision that frightened all who witnessed. But all he could see was the dark purple and gray mech with the glowing ruby visor.

Until the Prime's calm voice broke through the red haze of his fury. /Prowl…/

Keening his hurt and rage even as he decapitated another Decepticon soldier, Prowl growled back at his leader. /He was going to use me!/

/They are retreating, Prowl./ Optimus remained calm, a pillar of quiet strength.

/I will kill him!/ Prowl declared even as he disposed of another enemy soldier, barely registering that they were running away from him now and only pushing himself harder so he could overtake them.

/Soundwave is no longer among them. He is gone./ Optimus insisted.

Prowl's engine revved as he leapt onto one broad-shouldered Decepticon, slicing a major energon line and grabbing the mech's struts as his own feet touched the ground. He used his momentum to hurl the dark red mech's frame at two of his fellows. /Then I will hunt him down!/

/We need you./ Optimus almost whispered across the comm. line. Had Prowl been thinking more clearly, he would have noted the almost desperate note in the Prime's voice.

As it was, Prowl continued to fight, charging at fleeing Decepticons only marginally aware he was closer to the enemy retrieval ship than his own team members.

/I'm sorry, Prowl./ The resigned determination in the Prime's voice did start to penetrate the fog in Prowl's processor. He had just enough time to wonder what Optimus might be sorry about when Optimus transmitted again. /Prowl, stand down./

This time all the power of command that was at the Prime's disposal echoed through that single order.

Newer, self-inflicted changes to Prowl's programming kicked in and his own ethical coding forcibly held him to his vow to obey all legal orders of those above him in the chain of command.

That internal action alone was enough to break the blind fury that had been driving Prowl and he came back to himself like a stretched coil that was suddenly released. Recognizing what was happening as his ethical coding overrode his previous, single-minded focus, Prowl did not try to stop it.

He slowed to a stop, belatedly realizing how far he had traveled as he watched the Decepticons continue to retreat. He was now outside the city's perimeter defenses. He realized with cold dread that if he had continued in his blind, rage-fueled pursuit, he would have gone aboard the ship itself. He had been running headlong toward his own doom.

Soundwave's back-up plan he realized with a churning of his tanks. And he had almost fallen for it; would have, had not the Prime forced his obedience through his ethical programming.

Prowl shuddered. His response was very subdued. /Yes, Prime./

/Come back./ Optimus' relief was clear, though the commanding undertone of the order was unmistakable.

Vents heaving with exertion Prowl obediently folded himself into his alt-mode and turned back toward Optimus' communication beacon.

/Yes, Prime./ Prowl's own relief and sudden weariness edged into his digital voice.

Prowl made good time and arrived at their location relatively quickly, even though he used the drive to analyze what had happened. By the time he reached Optimus' position, he was 98.371% sure he correctly understood the situation.

He transformed again as soon as he was within visual range. Their reaction was immediate. Jazz and Ironhide stepped in front of Optimus with weapons raised; defensive even if their postures were concerned. Groove did likewise for First Aid, his stunner raised a look of clear worry in his optics.

Prowl froze, adopting a non-threatening posture as he waited for them to make the next move.

"What happened?" Optimus asked after a handful of sparkbeats.

It was an order to explain, Prowl could tell that easily. Though his frame heated with embarrassment and shame at what had been done to him, he knew logically it would be best for all those present to be aware of the facts.

Remaining motionless, Prowl looked at his Prime. "It was a trap, sir. Apparently Soundwave was aware that he was unable to directly affect my core coding and managed to circumnavigate my defenses."

Weapons warmed up on all four mechs who were armed and Prowl fell silent, transmitting a 'I am not a threat' signal.

"How is that even possible?" Jazz demanded. "Ratch and I both scanned ya."

"He had attempted to manipulate my coding, and my malware programs did fragment and neutralize those codes." Prowl's engine revved. "They were designed to go dormant in order to hide from my defenses and, apparently, would only activate on a signal from Soundwave."

"Which was why he was here." Optimus concluded.

"Yes." Prowl found he was trembling in remembered helpless fury, at how his frame had tried to betray him even as he had struggled to regain control.

"What were the codes designed to do?" Optimus asked after a moment, eyeing the struggling tactician.

Fury swelled in Prowl's spark just thinking about it and spilled into his voice. "As he could not access my core coding, Soundwave was only hoping to gain control of my motor systems. He was going to use me as a weapon against you and then bring be back to Megatron as a living trophy!"

"A conscious puppet?" Jazz shivered. "That's… horrifying."

The sympathy he heard in the saboteur's voice was enough to add shame on top of the fury and horror that Prowl was already struggling to control. He nodded stiffly, pushing back against the ache that was growing in his processor with the strong and conflicting emotions.

Ironhide growled again. "Soundwave doesn't usually fail at something like this."

Slowly regaining control, Prowl bowed his helm. "If I had not modified my ethical programming he would not have. But those changes are core coding that mere motor commands could not override. It gave me enough time to fight the viral coding."

Continuing to maintain a non-threatening posture, Prowl looked at Groove. The young mech trembled under his gaze.

"Groove…"

"I…I… I didn't know what else to do." Groove cut in, a look of regret and several other emotions Prowl could not identify warring in his expression. "I know it hurt, but I didn't have a choice, I…"

"You did exactly the right thing, Groove. You let me focus on defeating the virus without having to fight for motor control over my frame." Prowl dipped his helm gratefully. "Without your quick action I would have fallen victim to Soundwave's attack. Thank you."

Groove relaxed visibly, going so far as to power down his weapon even if he did not yet put it away. Ironhide and Jazz likewise straightened out of their battle-ready stances and powered down their weapons. Yet no one moved toward him and so Prowl maintained his semi-submissive posture.

"And the coding?" Optimus asked quietly after a moment, bringing up the real reason no one was truly relaxing just yet.

Prowl released a vent. "Gone, I believe."

"I can check…" First Aid offered timidly and started to move from behind Groove.

"No." Prowl looked at the young medic and shook his helm. Ratchet would never forgive him – nor would he ever forgive himself – if First Aid were to be damaged by any lingering traps that might be in his processor. The tactician looked at the silver minibot. "Jazz?"

"I said I wouldn't scan ya like that unless there was no other choice." Jazz shook his helm and Prowl understood. This would not be a scan he would be able to highlight files for; it would be much like his initial interrogation, only that Jazz would be looking for something else.

"There is no other choice." Prowl insisted quietly. "It must be done; for everyone's safety and for the safety of the AllSpark itself now. You are the best qualified to do it." He paused for an astrosecond. "Do not think of it as a scan. Think of it as a… wellness check. I have been fighting a virus after all."

Jazz snorted a humorless laugh. "Ya sure?"

Prowl straightened, meeting Jazz's gaze openly. "We need to know. You have dealt with Soundwave's viral codes before and as you have scanned my processor before, you probably saw the dormant codes. You know what you are looking for."

"I'm tha only logical choice, ya mean." Jazz shook his helm even as he stepped toward Prowl, subspacing his weapon. "Logic is annoyin' sometimes."

Prowl felt himself smirking just that little bit, relieved to see Jazz's usual sense of humor return. Seeing that smirk, Jazz snorted air through his vents and stepped close enough to slip his cord into the port Prowl uncovered for him.

With their audience of three Autobots and one Temple Guardian, Jazz ran through a quick but thorough scan. There were no paths for Prowl to highlight because the purpose was to find any viral coding that had escaped his own defenses and both mechs knew there were no standardized rules as to where dormant viruses might hide. Nevertheless, Jazz went as carefully and as gently as he could, not wanting to add to the suffering Prowl had already endured over the matter. Prowl, for his part, even if he kept his body language carefully acquiescent, was still angry enough at Soundwave that he did not mind the inevitable physical discomfort.

It was still humiliating to have someone that deep in his processor, especially in such a public setting. But the open and clear concern in his fellow Autobot's – and even Groove's – optics and the way they moved to shield the two of them from the casual observation of Simfur's Security Response mechs helped to mitigate that humiliation. The realization that their concern was for him, not because of him, also helped to further mitigate his embarrassment.

Finally, Jazz withdrew, retrieving his cord.

The smile that lit the saboteur's face plates was one of pure relief. "He's clean, least as far as I can tell. Ratch should take a look when we get back fo' sure, but I didn't see even tha remnants of the fragmented codes I found on my first scan."

The tension in the mechs around them all but evaporated and Ironhide and the Prime's borderline defensive stances – in case some errant viral coding had caused Prowl to fight Jazz – relaxed. The tension and anxiety within Prowl's spark also eased and the Praxian let his doorwings sag more than usual.

Ducking his helm gratefully, Prowl murmured, "thank you, Jazz."

The smaller mech gave his arm an encouraging squeeze.

They started moving soon after that, all of the Autobots still cognizant of the danger that remaining in the open too long would pose to their ultimate purpose in Simfur, assuming a tight formation with the Prime and First Aid at it's center.

As they retreated back towards the Temple, First Aid spoke to Prowl, softly but the rest of the small team heard what they said regardless.

"Prowl, that virus might have affected the instability in your logic and emotional cores. I know I'm not trained in how to repair any damage that might be there, but I do know what Ratchet did to repair that coding." /Thanks to you./ He added via silent comm..

For a moment, Prowl wondered why such a personal matter would be spoken of verbally by the medic with others present. Then he realized it must be because the young medic worried about his reaction and wanted the conversation witnessed for that reason.

Sighing a vent of air, Prowl respected First Aid's unspoken worry and answered him verbally as well. "You wish to check my command cortex?"

First Aid shifted uneasily, clearly nervous. "I… I think it would be a good idea."

Despite the tentative nature of his words, First Aid's true conviction and genuine concern were obvious.

Prowl considered the junior medic. First Aid was the Medic on this mission, which meant that the younger mech could override even the Prime in medical issues if he truly felt the need. Prowl appreciated that First Aid had not gone that far and was giving him a chance to cooperate voluntarily.

At length, Prowl nodded, dipping his doorwings deferentially. "Very well. As soon as the immediate situation is dealt with and we find a suitable location…" He hesitated an astrosecond. "Unless you believe the matter to be more urgent than that?"

First Aid blinked, then looked at the Prime – who was paying close attention to the conversation – then back at Prowl.

Believing he understood what the junior medic did not seem able to put into words, Prowl shook his helm. "The Prime will support your judgment in medical matters such as this."

The Prime's engine rumbled in wordless agreement that calmed and reassured First Aid, even if it left him feeling a little dazed.

Quickly he shook his helm. "No, I don't think it's that urgent. Unless… how do you feel? Processor ache?"

It would be so easy to lie, but Prowl knew he would not, even if he could. "Yes. But I believe it is from Jazz's scan. I do not feel excessive pressure from conflicting logic and emotional algorithms at this time."

First Aid's optics narrowed, clearly trying to read between the lines of what Prowl had told him, in order to figure out what he had not said. It did not take Prowl's advanced processors to recognize that the medic was worried that he might just say something to get out of a medical scan… or at least delay such a scan. The tactician doubted he would have been the first to try.

At least First Aid was not suspicious about his him personally or his past, only maintaining the same suspicions all medics had about all patients. In some ways, it was a good development to see.

Prowl released a vent, hiding a smile. He spoke as befitting the seriousness of the situation. "You are aware of the parameters of my ethical programming?"

First Aid blinked. "Yes."

Prowl lifted a corner of his lip plates briefly at the younger mech's consternation and then dipped his helm deferentially. "I give you my word that when the situation safely allows it, I will submit to your medical examination."

Optics widening, First Aid could only stare at Prowl. Then his frame relaxed visibly and he returned Prowl's nod before falling back a couple of steps.

Behind him, Optimus hummed his approval of how Prowl had handled that situation, while the other two Autobots gave no outward indication of their thoughts. Groove, on the other hand, looked between them curiously, wondering what he had missed.

They had made it half way back to the temple when they a squad of mechs from Simfur's Security Response intercepted them. At their head was the Security Chief.

Once the squad of five mechs transformed, the Chief saluted the Prime smartly. "Prime… we had no idea you were in Simfur. Had we known, we could have taken better precautions and…"

"The fault is not yours, Chief." Optimus interrupted smoothly. "You will not be held accountable for your ignorance."

The Chief's armor relaxed marginally at that reassurance and he nodded. "Sir, Governor Alpha Trion wishes to speak to you."

"Of course." Optimus acknowledged the request as well as the complete breach of mission secrecy with a dignified nod that gave away nothing but calm understanding. Silently, he signaled the rest of his team.

Now an official procession, the mechs shifted position accordingly. Optimus took the lead while Ironhide fell into place behind and to his right with Jazz to his left. Prowl followed close behind the Prime while Groove and First Aid took up positions on either side of the tactician.

The medic and Temple Guardian were both nervous but trying valiantly to hide that fact so as to fit in with the rest of the Prime's escort, both uncomfortably aware of the looks and murmurs their party was garnering from the mechs and femmes they passed. Ahead of them, the governing complex loomed in all its architectural glory while the gathering crowd mocked the covert nature of their mission. Meanwhile, Prowl bent his processor to the task of figuring out how to best ensure both the success of their mission and the Prime's safety now that his presence in Simfur was known.


Whooop! Surprisingly quick update! Don't get your hopes up, though guys. I had an accident going to work… um two days after I posted the last chapter and suddenly had time to write. But I'm going back to work tomorrow, so the next chapter will not be up this quickly next time. Before everyone worries, I'm fine… mostly. Serious sprain to my right foot in several places and some other strained joints and soreness. Doc said 4-8 weeks till I'm good as new. :)

Some of you mentioned last time that 16hr work days are ridiculous, especially in a medical environment where people's lives are at stake. Hm, yes. I couldn't agree more. Of course, most nurses' work days are 12 hrs, the shortest that most (except those working in doctor's offices, schools or other special fields) get to work is 10hr days. But, when facilities are having to cut costs… Yeah. In today's economy and in a world of 20% cuts to medicare, medicare and private insurance reimbursements to healthcare providers... some things gotta go and I guess its easy to get nurses right now when the ones you have burn out. I know there is all this talk about a 'nursing shortage' (at least in parts of the US) but if that were the case, they wouldn't treat us like we are Energizer bunnies. I know that reasoning goes against common sense (and even good business sense) but one thing I have learned over the years is that the medical field almost always chooses against either one of those things. ('Funny' story, but true: my mother works for a management training firm and the owner absolutely refuses to work with any hospital or healthcare provider because even with training, they will continue to do the wrong things in regards to managing their workers. It did not surprise me in the least when she told me the story.)

Never fear however, I am working on leaving the medical field behind (thats why I'm back in school…)

Anyway, enough about my life. I truly do appreciate your reviews. I was going to try and reply to at least some of them when I posted this chapter, but… it's almost 10pm local time and I have to get up at 3:30 am again tomorrow… So I'm going to try again with this chapter...