"What happened?" Megatron raged.

I didn't look up from my computer console as I skimmed through footage from the battle.

"We lost," Blackangle deadpanned. He called me in here just to yell at me, didn't he?

Megatron rounded on him. "How did we lose?" he demanded. "We outnumbered them by more than ten to one." This mech had better have an explanation.

Blackangle took a step back to stand between his bodyguards, arms crossed defensively. "Why are you asking me? I'm no battle strategist. Something weird happened, and the Autobots got the upper hand all of a sudden, that's all. It could have been a fluke." I'm just as baffled as he is, really. It seems impossible. It was like suddenly we couldn't touch them. Like Primus himself was protecting them…

"I let your mecha direct my army." Megatron growled. "And they couldn't even defeat a handful of untrained factory workers!"

"I'm telling you, it was some sort of weird fluke," Blackangle said. "There was a point where we had them all cornered, but somehow they got lucky and turned the tide." All at once? Everywhere they were cornered? That… frag, I really don't know what happened.

"Maybe if you had put me in command…" Starscream drawled from his position off to the side of the room. He'd slipped in shortly after Blackangle and was very pleased with how the conversation had been going so far. He didn't care that we'd lost. In fact, he was ecstatic that Blackangle had failed.

"You couldn't command a trained symbiot," Blackangle snapped at Starscream. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Aren't I one of Megatron's advisers as well?" Starscream scowled. I hate that. I should be his chief adviser, not just one of his advisers.

"Starscream, get out!" Megatron shouted, pointing at the door.

"But Lord Megatron…"

"Unless you can tell me exactly why we lost."

Well, it's obvious, Starscream thought. "The Autobots all maneuvered themselves into defensible positions," he said. "And your idiot soldiers just threw themselves at the enemy with no thought for strategy. You should have attacked from above. If we had seekers in the army, we could have bombed them out, but even without seekers, you should have thought to use your… what do you call groundpounders with wings?"

Megatron turned to look at Blackangle.

I backed up the recording and watched the battle unfold again on my computer screen, paying attention to where the scattered groups of Autobots moved. It had looked like they were fleeing from our soldiers, but maybe each group had had a specific destination.

"We… thought it would be an easy battle," Blackangle said. "I can talk to my mecha about that, though."

"Your mecha?" Starscream sneered. "And who are they? Crooks? Gutter scrap? What would they know of strategy? I was trained in the Vos Academy of Defense, and was only denied a position in the Vosian Armada because—"

"That's enough!" Megatron said. "Both of you be silent or get out!"

The echo of his shouting died into silence. Well, silence for everyone else at least.

How dare he order me around like some common idiot. I just answered his question!

Primus, how long do I have to put up with this? Maybe I should accelerate my plans to get rid of this gladiator.

Soundwave, please tell me you can explain why we lost…

Finally, I looked up from my computer console. As much as I hated to admit it… "Starscream is correct," I said.

Of course I am.

"But how?" Megatron demanded. "Weren't the Autobots retreating? How did they all find defensible positions?"

Well, that wasn't difficult to guess. "Prowl."

Megatron's optics narrowed. "The Praxian?" he said. The irritating little enforcer? Really?

I nodded. He had beaten me at a strategy board game while I was listening to his thoughts. I was pretty sure he was behind the Autobots' miraculous victory.

"Do you think he could do something like that again?" Megatron said. "Or if we were more prepared, could we win next time?"

I tilted my helm to the side.

"Maybe if you put someone else in charge of strategy…" Starscream said. My brothers and I could do much better than the Quantum goons.

"Prowl may still win," I said. "E-even if we prepare."

Megatron scowled. "Very well." We'll have to get rid of him then. "Blackangle."

"Yes?"

"I want Prowl offline. Can you make that happen?"

"Well…" Blackangle said.

"What good are you to me?" Megatron growled. "You're the leader of the largest organized crime cell on the planet and you can't even have one mech assassinated?"

"I didn't say I couldn't," Blackangle said. "In fact, it shouldn't be too much trouble. But it might take a while. They're staying in a noblemech's neighborhood, and the security over there is ridiculous."

"I want Prowl offline before we attack another city," Megatron said. We can't have a mech who can pull off that sort of trick working for the Autobots.

"I have one mech on the inside," Blackangle said. "But if he kills Prowl, he's probably going to have to blow his cover."

"I've had enough of your excuses," Megatron said. "Have your mech kill that Praxian or next time we have a battle, I'll send you to the front lines, along with everyone in your organization."

"Very well," Blackangle said. "I'll pass the order along." He's not going to like it, but he'll do what he's told.

"And Soundwave," Megatron said. "See if you can put together some sort of tactical team. Apparently, Blackangle's mecha don't know what they're doing."

I nodded, though I wasn't sure exactly how he expected me to do that.

"Next time," Megatron growled. "We will not lose."

Blackangle nodded once, and Starscream crossed his arms, still upset that Megatron hadn't picked up on his not-so-subtle hints that he wanted to be in charge of coordinating the next battle.

"You're all dismissed," Megatron said. You too, Soundwave. "Get out. I need some time to think."

Blackangle and his mecha filed out, followed by Starscream.

I got up from my computer console and headed for the door too. I ought to spend some time with my symbiots anyway… and I should probably talk to Breeze as well.

Orion sat behind his desk, looking over reports, messages, and lists in preparation for the meeting that would start in fifteen breems.

He had gone looking for Ironhide, but the mech had shut himself in his room, and apparently didn't want to talk. Orion could only hope he came to the meeting.

Someone knocked lightly on his office door, and Orion looked up. "Come in."

Maybe Ironhide had changed his mind and decided to come talk to him. Orion was worried—he had never seen his friend lose his temper like that and actually hurt someone.

But when the door opened, it wasn't Ironhide. It was Prowl.

"Prime, may I speak with you for a breem before the debriefing?"

"Of course." Orion said, beckoning him into the office. "Sit down. Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yes," Prowl said as he sat. "I'm fine, just tired. But I wanted to talk to you…" He looked down.

"What?"

"I don't know if I can do this," Prowl said quietly. "We almost lost. Too many mecha panicked or didn't listen to me… I was afraid this would happen."

"Prowl…"

"Mecha don't trust me. I'm just not… I'm just not good enough at getting them to trust me, and if they can't trust me I'll be more harm than help."

Orion frowned. "Prowl, we owe the victory this orn to you."

"I know," Prowl said. "That's the problem. I don't think you can replace me. Granted, most of my strategies involve cheap tricks and upgrades, but…"

Orion shook his helm. "Ironhide was angry, and overheated from the battle. He was just upset that his mecha got hurt and he wanted to take it out on someone. It wasn't your fault."

"But it was, in a way," Prowl said. "If he considered me trustworthy, we wouldn't have lost so many of them. I couldn't convince him I wasn't leading him into a trap, and I didn't ask for your help until it was almost too late."

Orion stared at him.

"And I know you might say that makes it Ironhide's fault," Prowl said. "But I can't do anything about it if it's his problem. I can't fix it. I just…"

"Can you show what happened in the meeting?"

Prowl nodded.

"Show him that you weren't leading him into a trap. Don't call him out, but explain the way your strategy worked. Ironhide is a good mech, and I believe he's humble enough to accept it when he's wrong."

Prowl looked down.

Silence fell. Orion let it stretch out, waiting for Prowl to speak.

"It doesn't bring them back."

Orion blinked. He didn't know what to say.

"I killed so many mecha this orn. I could have…" Prowl shuttered his optics. "I could have saved half of the ones who offlined… I didn't take everything into account and they didn't…." He trailed off, burying his faceplate in his hands. Orion had never seen this much emotion from him.

He wasn't really sure how to respond to this.

After a few astrosecond, Prowl took in a deep vent and put his hands down. "Sorry," he said.

"None of us wanted this war," Orion said. "But I think we have to fight it."

"I know," Prowl looked embarrassed now. "And I'm sorry for falling apart like that. I guess I just didn't realize what it would be like to direct actual soldiers."

Orion looked down. He hadn't contributed much to the battle. "I'm sorry I couldn't help more. Maybe next time…"

"You're not a strategist," Prowl said matter-of-factly. "Stick with what you're good at and let me worry about my job."

Orion frowned. "All right."

Prowl looked embarrassed again.

"Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

"No," Prowl said. "Again, I'm sorry. I don't know why I just… I still do think it's a problem that mecha don't trust me. And I'm not sure what to do about it. But I really don't have time to even worry about it because the next few orns... never mind. I'll see you at the meeting."

He stood, and Orion watched him leave the room. When the door closed behind Prowl, Orion sighed, looking down at the datapads strewn across his desk. What were they doing? What had he been thinking? He couldn't lead an army. He was an archivist—just an archivist, with less than twenty vorns of experience to draw from. And half of his command element were almost as young as he was.

Prowl was right. The Autobots were partly responsible for the deaths this orn. If Orion could, he'd go back in time and tell his younger self to leave things as they were. Leave Megatronus in Kaon, leave everything like it had been.

But he couldn't. And maybe he shouldn't. The Council had been—and still was—corrupt. And someone had needed to stand up and do something about it. He just wished it hadn't been him.

Orion shook his helm to clear it, and got back to work. He skimmed the list of mecha who were invited to the meeting, and realized one of them was probably still in Slaughter City.

He took a deep vent and commed Ratchet.

"Yes?"

"Hello," Orion said. "We need you to come back here for a joor or so."

"For what? One of you didn't get themselves hurt, did they?"

"No. We're having a meeting."

"A meeting?"

"Yes."

"No."

"Ratchet…"

"I am not going to some meeting when there are mecha offlining out here. I am busy."

"It's important that everyone be here. We can't set the precedent of letting anymech skip out on—"

"I repeat, I will not come back for any reason that is less important than what I'm doing right now. Goodbye."

"Ratchet!"

He cut the comm. Orion had to try several times before Ratchet would talk to him.

"Please," Orion said. "I don't have the time or the energy to argue with you. We're having a meeting. By accepting your position in the army, you agreed to listen to me. You can't be in charge of the medical department if you won't show up to meetings. I know we're all new at this, but that's how it has to work. I'll excuse you as soon as possible, probably before the meeting is over, but I need you to come, all right?"

There was silence on the other end. Orion waited.

"Slag you, Orion," Ratchet hung up gain.

Did that mean he was coming?

Orion made a few more comms, and then dragged himself to his pedes and headed to the main room where everyone would gather in a few breems. He wasn't sure whether he'd make it through the whole orn or collapse halfway through. It wasn't even technically the on-cycle yet, was it?

Ironhide showed up to the meeting, thankfully. He didn't look so angry anymore, but he also didn't seem to want to talk, so Orion let him be. Ratchet showed up right as they were ready to start.

There was a quiet, somber atmosphere in the room, and Orion didn't even need to call everyone to order. He asked Chromia to start with the current death count and expended resources. The numbers were high enough to fill the room with even thicker silence. This had been very different from the evacuation of Tarn.

Then Elita gave a report about civilian damages as well as the effect of this battle on the relationship with the city. After that, Orion talked for a few breems about the next steps and the clean-up process and gave out a few assignments before letting some of the mecha, such as Ratchet, leave.

Then Prowl, now as composed as ever, took the floor. He started to outline the happenings of the battle. He explained what was obviously a simplified version of his plan, and why it had worked. It had been risky-he'd been relying on the fact that Megatron's army had never met with any sort of organized resistance before. But it had been brilliant, at the same time, and had proved effective. Orion watched Ironhide's faceplate as Prowl pointed out in a cool, emotionless fashion what had happened and what would have happened if everyone had followed his orders. Ironhide shifted uncomfortably a few times, but didn't look appeased. Orion would have to try to talk to him again afterward.

Prowl finished by showing how he'd re-consolidated the Autobot troops and made use of the Slaughter City civilians to force the Deception retreat. When he was done, he called for questions.

Chromia crossed her arms. "How the pit did you know where to put everyone?"

Prowl nodded, but Chromia cut him off before he could speak again.

"I mean," she said. "You'd have needed to go to the city and stake it out or something."

Prowl looked across the table.

Mainspring nodded. "We took care of that. We've been sending mecha to most of the more susceptible cities, to study their layouts and look for defensible positions."

"Oh," Chromia said. "Why weren't we made aware of that?"

"It didn't come up," Jazz said. "And we didn't want ta spread it around a lot. If the 'Cons had found out, we'd never have pulled it off, because they'd have been expecting it."

"Well, if we'd known," Ironhide said. "We'd never have lost so many mecha. How are we supposed to follow a plan if we don't know what it is?"

"Ain't ya supposed ta just follow orders during a battle?" Jazz asked. "I'm pretty sure that's how it works, mech."

Ironhide narrowed his optics.

"Are there any other questions?" Orion asked, trying to avert the argument before it developed further.

Mainspring raised a hand.

"Yes?" Prowl said.

"This is a question for you, Prime." Mainspring said. "And Ironhide, don't take this personally—you weren't the only one. But there seem to have been several mecha and units who disobeyed orders out on the field. A lot of that was probably because of inexperience, but as we've seen, things would have gone a lot better had everyone followed orders. I don't think it would be wise to ignore what has happened."

Orion frowned. "You want me to punish mecha for disobeying orders."

"If we had lost this orn, then the war would be over," Mainspring said. "And I'm sure Megatron will be more careful next time. Our army needs to have the edge in competency if we want to survive the next several battles."

Orion nodded. He was right. "I will definitely consider that. Thank you, Mainspring."

There were a few other questions, concerns, and reports, then more assignments made, and finally the meeting was over. Orion had a lot to do. He probably only had a joor or so before the city woke up and he would need to talk to the media about the battle.

He also had to go see Yoketron this orn. He wasn't sure if he was going to make that one… no. He'd make time. It would be a good break from the rest of his duties.

Breeze's comm beeped, and she froze when she realized who it was from.

Soundwave.

Soundwave was comming her over an internal frequency.

She got up from her seat. Keepsake and Cam were still watching the news, listening to reports from Slaughter city, and they didn't seem to notice as she headed for the hall. Blaster glanced her way, though.

Maybe she shouldn't talk to Soundwave with the mechling listening in. She smiled at him, and changed directions, heading for the door.

"Where are you going?" Keepsake asked.

"I… need to go for a drive," Breeze said. "I'll be back soon."

She answered the comm. as she left her house, and transformed so she could drive away and get out of range of Blaster. "Hello? Soundwave?"

"Hi."

"Primus, are you all right? I heard about Slaughter City."

"I'm fine," Soundwave said. "I wasn't there."

"Well, I know, but…"

More than five thousand mecha had offlined—mostly Decepticons. Megatron had attacked city-states before, but this had been different.

"But what?"

His simulated voice sounded almost annoyed.

"Never mind," she said. "How are you in general? I know you went with the Decepticons because of Searchlight, but can you really justify what he's—"

"Look," he cut her off. "Megatron…"

Breeze waited, slowing down at the corner, and turning, habitually driving toward her work, even though she had the orn off.

"He still wants to make the world better. He's just forgotten how. And… he doesn't listen to me like… like he used to."

Like Searchlight used to. Breeze pulled off to the side of the road and transformed again, then walked over to a bench outside the nearest building and sat down. She needed to devote all of her attention to this conversation.

"Some of the things he's doing…" Soundwave continued, "Are almost as bad as…"

"I'm sorry," Breeze said. "Maybe… I know it's not my place to say it, but maybe you should leave."

"I can't," Soundwave said. "He's in more trouble than he's ever been in before. All the mecha around him are plotting to kill him or overthrow him. If I leave, he'll offline."

Breeze looked down.

"Please don't ask me to leave."

"Does he know they're plotting against him?"

"Yes, but he's relying on me to keep him safe."

Right. He knew about Soundwave's abilities. Suddenly, that made Breeze very uneasy. Searchlight had often pestered Soundwave to help him cheat at cards or find out what other mecha thought about him. But that was all relatively innocent, and he'd never forced the issue.

Megatron was a lot more forceful and seemed to care a lot less how other mecha felt about things.

"Does he ask you to do things you're not comfortable with?"

Soundwave didn't answer for a few astroseconds.

"Soundwave?"

"He doesn't," Soundwave said. "I mean, a little, but…"

"That really doesn't sound like a good situation."

"But I can't leave. Do you really want me to leave him here to die?"

"No," Breeze admitted. "But… Oh, Soundwave, I just think…" Searchlight wouldn't be doing the things Megatron was doing. Searchlight wouldn't want Soundwave to be in that situation. And Breeze was worried—if Soundwave chose to stay, she might lose him too. She'd already lost more than she wanted to think about. "I'm just worried about you."

"I'm fine," Soundwave said. "And I'm not leaving. Is that all you wanted to talk about?"

"Wait," Breeze sighed. "There is something else. Something we might be able to do about the whole situation. But… it might take a while—it might not even be possible—and I didn't want to ask you to stay there and wait on a maybe, if I could talk you into coming back."

"What?" Soundwave asked.

Breeze hesitated. There were so many reasons not to tell him, but…

Maybe he deserved to know.

"A while back… I read something. It was an academic paper. It… it mentioned some sort of procedure that could restore missing memories."

She didn't expect him to say anything in response to that. He didn't.

"The problem is…" she continued. "I haven't been able to find anything else about it and I've never seen it mentioned anywhere else. It was only mentioned in passing in the paper I found it in, and I'm pretty sure the author was quoting someone, but I'm not sure who because some of the references had been edited out. And I tried contacting the authors of the paper, but only one of them responded, and she just said she didn't know anything about the procedure, and that one of her colleagues had been the one to write that section. I don't even know what the procedure is called, so I'm not sure what to look for. But it's a hope. If we could find a way to restore Searchlight's memories…"

Soundwave was still silent.

"Everything would be better," Breeze said. "He'd stop killing, and we could avoid this awful war, and… and we could bring him back, Soundwave. We could have Searchlight back."

There were a few more astroseconds of silence, and then the comm. line went dead. Soundwave had ended it.

Breeze lowered her helm. In some ways, a little bit of hope was more painful than none—she knew that. That was why she hadn't wanted to tell him about it before.

But he knew now.

She should go home and write up a message explaining a little more about what she'd found and where she'd looked. If it really was possible to restore missing memories, then there should be at least some record of it. And if she could find that, then she could prevent the war and solve everything.

But if she couldn't find it, or if it didn't exist, she'd probably just sealed Soundwave's fate. He would never leave, not if there was a chance he could really and truly get Searchlight back.

What Chromia would really like to do was go find Ironhide, and talk to him, but she wasn't sure what to say. Fixing emotional problems, and encouraging mecha had never been her strong suite.

She could feel his pain over the bond though—shame, anger, grief. It had been very apparent at the meeting that not only could Ironhide have prevented his mecha from offlining, but if he had encouraged the other units to listen to Prowl instead of being skeptical, their casualties would have been significantly lower.

She really didn't know how to help with that, though. He'd been wrong, and he had to deal with it.

All the negative emotions on the bond were distracting her from her work, so maybe she could use that as an excuse to take a break and go talk to him, but she wasn't sure what to say. She'd probably just make things worse.

She stared blankly at her computer screen, trying to figure out what to do.

"…not sure why you're still going, though." Moonracer's voice said, as she and Elita came in. Chromia glanced up at them.

"Because I said I would," Elita replied matter-of-factly.

Chromia narrowed her optics. That tone was suspicious.

Actually, Elita had been acting weird for decaorns.

"But I don't want to deal with battle clean up and all of the stupid press and everything on my own!" Moonracer said. "You can just send someone else."

"What's going on?" Chromia asked.

"She's going on a stupid trip across the entire planet," Moonracer said.

"This orn?" Chromia asked.

"Early next orn," Elita replied. "And I'm going, Moonracer."

"What's so important about it?" Chromia asked.

"How is Ironhide, by the way?" Elita replied. "He was really… quiet at the meeting."

"He's having a rough orn, as I'm sure you could guess. Don't change the subject. Why are you going on a trip anyway?"

"I told you two orns ago, I set up a meeting with the Simfur Council because they expressed interest in allying with us, or at least offering us some help with resources."

"Yeah, but why are you going?"

"They wanted to talk to a representative," Elita said. "Why is this such a problem?"

"Because you tried to change the subject," Chromia said, glaring at her sister.

Elita crossed her arms. "Look…"

"That is weird," Moonracer said. "What is up with you lately, Ellie? You've been acting all… I don't know, weird."

"Weird?" Elita raised an optic ridge.

"Like you're hiding something," Moonracer said.

"And what exactly would I be hiding?" Elita asked lightly, arms still crossed.

She was definitely hiding something. "Are you going to tell us what it is?" Chromia asked. "Moonracer's right, you've been acting different lately—it's not that hard to tell."

"I don't know what…" Elita said, then met Chromia's optics and sighed, glancing around the room full of mecha working at computers. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Chromia got an internal group comm. invite from her, and joined.

"So there is something?" she said.

"Yes," Elita told her. "But I can't tell you—not yet, at least. When I come back from my trip, the three of us can talk about it. Hopefully... but it will have to be a secret, so please let it go for now."

"What the frag?" Moonracer asked. "What kind of secret?"

"I said please drop it," Elita's tone, even over the internal comm. was very serious.

"Okay," Chromia said. "But you'd better tell us eventually."

"I will," Elita promised.

"Fine," Chromia said out loud, and got up from her desk, shutting down her computer.

"Where are you going?" Moonracer asked.

"To go check on Ironhide," she said. She still didn't know what she would say to him, but he was still very upset, and she had to at least try to talk to him.

Prowl looked up at the entry request. Not something else. His doorwings twitched in annoyance and he winced. Getting slammed against the wall was never fun. He hit a button on the desk and the door opened. Jazz walked in.

"Yes?" Prowl said.

"I sent you a message," Jazz said. "I'm tryin' ta put together, like, a celebration in honor of winning this orn."

"I gathered that from your message," Prowl said. "Unless Orion makes attendance mandatory, which I doubt he will, I'm definitely not going."

Jazz frowned. "Yeah, you and pretty much the whole command element."

"Yes," Prowl said. "Because we have to clean up from a battle." And spending time with a large group of loud, overcharged soldiers didn't exactly sound like Prowl's idea of a good time. There wasn't really any cause for celebration either. Prowl didn't even want to think about how many mecha he'd gotten offlined.

"Come on," Jazz came over and sat across from him. "Everymech else is taking a break."

"Except for Red Alert, Ratchet, Mainspring, the Prime, Ironhide, Elita One, and myself," Prowl said. "Am I correct?"

Jazz shook his helm. "I talked Mainspring into coming."

"Oh," Prowl said. "Guess I gave him too much credit."

Jazz smirked. "Ya don't mean that."

"No," Prowl said. "Look, I don't have time to talk to you. If you don't have anything important to say..."

"Mech, I'm just inviting… but if ya say no again, I might just have ta knock ya out and drag you."

"Really?"

Jazz shook his helm. "One more thing, though."

"Yes."

"Ya all right?"

Prowl narrowed his optics. Was that actual concern in the mech's voice? "Am I all right?"

"Yeah," Jazz said. "Ironhide's a pretty strong mech and he did slam your doorwings inta that wall pretty hard."

"I'm perfectly fine. Why do you care anyway?"

"Ya really don't know how ta make friends, do ya."

Prowl glared at him. He couldn't do this right now. He had more than enough to worry about, he didn't need some mech critiquing his social skills.

"Sorry," Jazz said. "I didn't—"

"Just go bother someone else. And just in case you're wondering, I am not your friend."

"If ya say so," Jazz said. "But I still want a rematch on that board game."

"What?"

"Remember? Back before—"

"I know what you're referring to. I don't think a rematch will turn out any differently."

"By refusing my challenge, ya're suggesting ya think ya can't beat me," Jazz said, then turned to leave Prowl's office.

Prowl glared at the back of his helm, then realized something.

"Wait!"

Jazz stopped in the doorway and turned around.

"I refuse," Prowl said through gritted denta. "To be adopted as some sort of project."

Jazz grinned. "I don't know what ya're talking about."

"I don't have time for board games, and I don't care whether or not I can win them. So thank you for trying, but please just leave me alone. I have more than enough work to keep me occupied, and no time for anything else."

"Whatever ya say, Prowler." Jazz ducked out of the room.

Prowl shook his helm and went back to work. He had too much to do. He was going to have to cover for Orion as well, for the next few orns. He really wasn't sure how that was going to go, since Ironhide definitely hated him now, and he already wasn't on good terms with most of the other mecha in the command element.

"Welcome, Orion," Yoketron said with a cheerful smile. "You've had a busy orn."

"Yes," Orion said. "Is Prowl not here?"

"I gave him the orn off," Yoketron said. "I figured he'd be busy."

Orion looked down. "Honestly, I should have asked for the orn off as well. We might need to cut this short, because I should get back as soon as possible." He wanted to get the whole orn over with as soon as possible so he could recharge.

"I know," Yoketron said, smiling slightly. "And I'm sorry that battle had to happen this orn. Last orn would have been a little better. Of course, this is better than it happening next orn. That would have been terrible."

"What?" Orion said, confused. "Why would next orn have been worse for the battle?"

"Because if it had been next orn, you wouldn't have been there and that would be a disaster."

Orion frowned. "I wouldn't have been there? Why? I'm… a little lost."

"That's understandable."

"Is there something I've forgotten?"

"No," Yoketron said with a mischievous glint in his optics.

"Why wouldn't I have been there next orn?"

"Because," Yoketron said in what seemed to be mock solemnity. "I am currently in the process of kidnapping you."

Orion stared at him.

"I think it's time for you to take a vacation, and since you obviously won't leave your duties without some outside encouragement..."

"Yoketron… Master Yoketron, I can't leave. I have so much to do."

"Prowl is already taking care of it. I asked him to. And I know he is more than capable of handling things on his own for a few orns."

"But the media…"

"Will have to understand just how busy you are with all the battle clean-up."

Orion shook his helm. "I can't just leave them all."

"You don't have a choice," Yoketron said. "I think that's part of the definition of being kidnapped."

"Thank you very much," Orion said. "And I would love to take a break, but it wouldn't be much of a break if I'm worrying about how everyone else is doing without me."

"First of all," Yoketron said. "This is not just for fun. This is a carefully considered venture that—If I am correct and if it is successful—will help you complete your next challenge and will boost your confidence and effectiveness for the rest of your career as a Prime. Secondly, your mecha need to learn how to operate without you. They will probably have to do so many times in the future. It's good to give them a little practice now while things are just getting started. And thirdly, you are going. You can't talk me out of it. The only question that you need to answer is whether you will come quietly or whether I have to knock you out."

This was not good. "Master Yoketron…"

"Well, which will it be?"

"I'm still confused. Where are we going?"

"I'm not going to tell you."

"What? Why not?"

"Because I want you to recharge on the way, and if explain the purpose of this trip to you, something makes me think that won't happen. Come, there's a transport outside waiting for us."

"That's not comforting," Orion said.

"See. Even telling you that I won't tell you is getting you all riled up. Now, come."

Orion shook his helm.

"I am more than capable of knocking you out."

"I can't! I can't leave everyone here to—"

"Don't you trust me?"

Orion met Yoketron's gaze. Then looked down.

"Believe me, this will be worth it," Yoketron said. "Now come on. We have a long transport ride ahead of us and you have some recharge to catch up on before I explain why I'm kidnapping you."

Orion followed him through the building and out to the front, where Landquake was still waiting.

Orion boarded, followed by the Circuit-Su Master.

"So…" Orion said as they sat down.

"No more questions."

"How long will this trip take?"

"I said no more questions. I will tell you once you have had some recharge, and I will also tell you where we're going and why. There will be plenty of time to talk. We have a long ride."

"If we're going far away why aren't we taking a groundbridge? Wouldn't that be faster?"

Yoketron shook his helm. "I don't want to leave any records of the trip. Now rest."

Well, it didn't seem like there was anything else to do. Orion shuttered his optics and leaned back in his seat. He really was tired, when he thought about it. Exhausted. And despite all of his questions, it wasn't difficult to drift off into recharge.