Orion sat in the crystal garden with his optics shuttered, trying to clear his processor. Meditating was harder now that he had a bond again, and he was distracted anyway. He wished there were some way to prepare for this—some way to reach into the future and tell himself he was short on time. But as soon as he entered the fourth trial, he would forget. He knew this one wouldn't be as unpleasant as some of the others, but that didn't stop him from being nervous. Eventually, he gave up and un-shuttered his optics. Master Yoketron sat across from him, still and silent.

"I'm ready," Orion said. "I don't think I'll ever be more ready than I am now, and the sooner I start, the sooner I'll be finished."

"You are not calm," Yoketron said.

"No, I am not."

"You should spend another breem or two meditating. Regardless of how this trial goes, calmness in the face of frustration and anxiety is a necessary skill for you to learn. The Matrix will help you with that, but if you want to keep hold of yourself when your receive it, you need to be in control of your emotions. The skills you learn beforehand will be enhanced. The skills you lack will still be your weaknesses."

Silence fell as Orion thought about that statement. "Will it help me be a better fighter?"

"I suppose it might," Yoketron said. "In fact, I hope it does, because you will likely have a need to fight before I have been able to finish training you. You are a fast learner, but…"

"Not as fast as Prowl." Orion said.

"I have not taught many mecha who were faster learners than Prowl," Yoketron said. "Do not compare yourself to him. He has his own challenges—many of them are things that come naturally to you."

That was true. Everyone had strengths and weaknesses. They didn't have time for this conversation, though. "Can we begin the trial?"

"Not until I am satisfied that you have mastered your anxiety."

Orion took a deep vent and shuttered his optics, trying to calm himself. He knew Elita could feel his nervousness over the bond. He was very grateful for that bond—as Elita had told Ratchet, she was a strength and not a burden. But it was sometimes distracting anyway.

He realized he had to trust himself. Even though he wouldn't remember anything once he entered the trial, he had to trust his spark and his processor. He had to trust that he would realize where he was, and that he had important things to get back to. That was all he needed to do. This wouldn't be like the first trial, or the third. He wouldn't need to do it over and over again. He would finish it in one shot, maybe even in less than an orn.

"That's better," Yoketron said. "Would you like to begin now?"

"How do you know…"

"That you're calm? Orion, I have been a Circuit-Su teacher for more than a thousand vorns, and I have been teaching you for quartexes now. I can tell when you're anxious." He stood and walked around Orion.

Orion braced himself slightly for the familiar feeling of the data stick entering the port on the back of his helm. Then he let himself slip into nothingness.

"…From what Orion said, we can't be sure they still plan to give it to him," Mainspring said. "After the war's over, there will be less of a need for him to have the Matrix."

Jazz tipped his chair back so it was balancing on two legs. "Yeah. But I'm pretty sure they'll change their minds, depending on how the war goes. And if they don't, I can always steal it or something. Do ya know how long it'll be before Orion needs that key?"

Mainspring shook his helm.

"I kinda don't like how secret this whole training thing is," Jazz said, "But I guess it's the Prime's business. Hmm… ya think we should steal the key anyway? Even though he says he doesn't want anymech ta steal it? It'd be safer here than with the Council."

"That would be risky," Mainspring said. "And I'm not sure it would actually be safer. The Council is very well guarded."

There was a ping in Jazz's audio. Mirage was comming him. Something must have gone wrong. He held up a hand to stop Mainspring and put his other hand to the side of his helm, activating his external comm.

"What is it?" he said. "Ya all right?"

"Yes," Mirage replied. "I just left Kaon."

Jazz shuttered his optics for an instant as relief washed over him. "Scared me, mech, why didn't ya just send a report?"

"I wanted to talk to you about this personally."

Mainspring was watching him curiously. "Okay," Jazz said. "What did ya find out?"

"The Decepticons found the Institute."

Chills ran down Jazz's back. He'd known they were looking for it. "Did they destroy it?"

"Well…" Mirage said. "I don't know where the mech in charge of it is—Neurosis or whatever his designation was. But they certainly didn't offline everyone there. In fact, they've got Shockwave working as their head scientist."

Jazz had never met Senator Shockwave. Apparently the mech had gone to the same school that Jazz had, and had been friends with Wheeljack and Ratchet, but Jazz hadn't known him very well. "That sounds like bad news ta me."

"Oh, you have no idea." Mirage said fervently. "From what I gathered, he's been using the prisoners they took from Iacon as test subjects. I'm not entirely sure what he's trying to do, but it has something to do with spark energy. I saw some of his notes, and I don't have a clue what they mean, but maybe Perceptor will."

Spark energy. Hadn't that been what Wheeljack had been researching? Hadn't that been the research the government had wanted him to use to develop weapons? That did not sound good at all. "Okay, mech," he said. "As soon as you're far enough away from the city that ya don't think they'll detect a bridge, we're bringing ya home. Did ya get out clean?"

"Yes, I think."

"Good," Jazz said. "Anything else?"

"There's more I found out while on the base, but that was the main thing I wanted to tell you."

"Okay. If there's nothing else pressing, ya can report in person once you're back here."

"Well… there was also a mech designated Blackangle who's planning to stab Megatron in the back. I don't know if we could make an ally of him."

Blackangle. Yes, he'd been pretty sure that Blackie would be there. "Oh, I know him," Jazz said.

"It sounded more like he wanted to take over from Megatron than stop him..."

"Sounds about right," Jazz said. "We'll talk about it when ya get back, okay? Let me know when ya're ready, I'll go get ya a bridge."

"Thank you."

Blackangle would not be an ally to the Autobots. He was just another sparkless, ambitious tyrant. Jazz hadn't been surprised to hear that he'd become the leader of Quantum, though it had been kind of sad. They'd been friends, sort of, back when Jazz had been really really bad at picking friends. Being the leader of that gang wasn't a happy job—being a criminal always demanded more than it returned, leaving you guilty and hungry and stealing your options from you. He didn't wish that on anymech, not even those who chose it for themselves.

"So…" Mainspring said. "What was that about?"

Right. Shockwave.

"Raj is coming home."

"I gathered that."

"The Decepticons captured the Institute, and it seems they're making use of the mecha who were in there. They've got the former senator Shockwave running their evil science department."

Mainspring frowned.

"Not good." Jazz got up. "I'm gonna go bridge Mirage back here using his personal groundbridge. I'm sorry, I think this takes precedence over our previous conversation, but we will get back to that once I've got a full report from Mirage."

"Of course," Mainspring said.

"See ya, mech," Jazz left Mainspring's office and headed for the nearest secret entrance into the vaults on the lower levels of the tower.

As soon as he was done talking to Mirage, he would leave Iacon. The mech who could tell him the most about Shockwave's notes was currently elsewhere, and it would be good for Jazz to check up on him again anyway.

Orion un-shuttered his optics. He had a moment of disorientation, but relaxed when he recognized that he was in his office at the Hall of Records. He must have dozed off for a moment. He shook his helm and checked his internal timepiece. Just ten breems until his break. He hoped he hadn't been recharging for long.

He looked up at the screen, and for an instant, the decryption that he needed to complete seemed unfamiliar. But when he started working on it, he found it wasn't that hard. In fact, he was enjoying himself more than usual, so much that he missed the first few breems of his break and would have missed more if there hadn't been a knock at the door.

"Come in," he called, and the door slid open.

"Still working?" Elita asked.

He nodded. "Yes, I still have... oh, it's my break, isn't it? I don't feel like it's time to stop yet."

Elita raised an optic ridge, but Orion could see the smile hiding behind her expression, and feel it through their bond. "I'm glad you love working so much," she said. "But you said you'd go for a walk with me this orn."

Orion stood and walked around the desk. "You're right, I did. I had completely forgotten..."

Elita shook her helm, smiling. "Come on, let's go feed your sparkling horde."

Orion followed her out of the Hall. They chatted pleasantly along the way as they walked their normal route. Soon they were flocked by excited sparklings who clamored for attention and candy. Orion was suddenly and inexplicably overcome with emotion. He shuttered his optics, wishing he could hold onto the moment forever. Then the feeling faded, and he was just standing in the street with his sparkmate, handing out energon treats.

Several of the younglings and sparklings were wearing new coats of paint, which was evidence that things were looking up for the poorer classes in the city. Ever since his friend Shockwave had become the Grand Councilmech, things had been changing. Progress was slow, but steady and peaceful for the most part. And things weren't just changing here—they were changing everywhere.

Cybertron had come dangerously close to collapse, but now they were saying the Golden Age would last a thousand more vorns.

Orion wished he could stay longer with the sparklings and younglings, but soon his break was over. He and Elita walked back toward the Hall of Records.

"Next orn, I have to work during this time," she said. "So you'll have to drag yourself away from your computer screen on your own."

"Okay," Orion said.

Elita sighed, glancing over her shoulder.

"What is it?"

"They're cute, Orion," she said. "But I think we should get our own sparkling."

Orion nodded. "Of course."

"Soon," Elita said.

They kept talking as they walked the rest of the way back to the Archives. Elita left him at the front doors. "I'll see you after work," she said.

Orion nodded, and climbed the steps. He should finish the project he'd been working on and then go talk to Alpha Trion. He felt like it had been too long since he'd had a real conversation with his mentor.

Makeshift took in a deep vent and let it out slowly. It was time. Everything was lining up. Optimus was gone for some indeterminate amount of time, and by some miracle of good fortune, Jazz had left the base too. If Makeshift could offline Prowl now, the Decepticons could attack anywhere without worrying about losing. He just had to hope that things would keep working out, because he would only have one shot at this.

He got up from his seat in the central room and walked to Mainspring's office at a leisurely pace. He took another deep vent, running through his lines, and knocked on the door.

Then he waited.

After some consideration, he'd realized that everyone trusted Mainspring. For good reason of course—Mainspring was likable and reliable, not to mention older and wiser than the rest of the command element. But he, like everyone else here, was still new to this.

The door opened.

"Makeshift," Mainspring said. "Come in. Is there something I can do for you?"

"Uh…" Makeshift let himself look almost as uncomfortable as he felt. "So… I just realized that last time I was in Jazz's office, I left a datapad there, and I need it, and I was wondering if you have the code to get in? Jazz is off-base, so he can't help me."

"Oh," Mainspring said.

Makeshift knew Mainspring had the code to get in.

"Of course," he said. "Let me comm. Jazz to make sure it's all right. Come with me."

"Thank you," Makeshift said, as Mainspring walked past him. He followed his superior through the hall to Jazz's office—the only blind spot in the entire tower.

"He says he hasn't noticed any extra datapads there, but it's kind of a mess so it's possible," Mainspring said, and tapped in the code. "Just as long as you take your datapad and not one of his on accident."

Jazz's office was one of the few rooms that needed a passcode. Makeshift discreetly watched Mainspring put in the code, memorizing the sequence of numbers.

The door slid open, then automatically shut behind them after they walked in. The desk was—as Makeshift had expected—covered with datapads.

"Now what exactly are you looking for?" Mainspring said, approaching the desk. "I hope we can find it in all this—"

Makeshift shoved the other mech into the wall and slammed a fist into the side of Mainspring's helm, crushing his comm. Mainspring cried out, and Makeshift pulled a miniature, but powerful energon prod and shocked the other mech until he was certain Mainspring was unconscious. Then he let go, spark pulsing rapidly. Mainspring slumped to the ground. He was mostly unharmed—Makeshift needed him intact in order to scan him.

Red Alert watched every camera feed. He had screens up all over. He hadn't recharged much the off-cycle before, and now that Optimus had left he probably wouldn't get any this off-cycle either. It was taking its toll, but he would live through it. At least that Infermo mech was useful. His designs so far were good—almost perfect—and he seemed to understand the need for safety better than most mecha.

Red Alert would definitely be keeping an optic on him, but for now he had other things to think about. His optics skimmed over the screens, looking for anything unusual.

His optics flicked toward a camera in the central room. He paused to count the mecha there and note who each of them were and whether they were supposed to be there. Then he skimmed through several other feeds. There was Chromia, scowling at her computer screen. There was Ratchet, organizing tools in his office. There was Mirage's apparently empty room, though there was no way to tell if it was really empty. There was another angle of the entrance room, there was Ironhide walking down a hallway, there was Mainspring leaving Jazz's office.

Mainspring leaving Jazz's office?

Red Alert stopped that feed and backed it up to see what had happened.

He watched with growing confusion as Mainspring and one of the mechs from Jazz's division went into Jazz's office. And then the door closed. And then two breems later, Mainspring left. But where was that other mech? Red Alert paused the video, but couldn't see the mech. He could be standing off to the side of the door or something… but why had they gone in Jazz's office in the first place?

There was probably some rational explanation for this. Things more suspicious than this had happened in the past few joors. However, there was no way to tell that nothing underhanded had happened because he couldn't see inside of that room.

Red Alert didn't want to take chances, so he flipped through the camera feeds until he found Mainspring again. He watched as the mech walked to Prowl's office. That wasn't particularly unusual, since the two of them worked together fairly often. He switched cameras again, so he had a better view of Mainspring and Prowl standing in the doorway. The two of them seemed to be talking. Red Alert looked up at the big screen on the wall that displayed footage from every camera in the whole base. He checked everything again to make sure it was all normal, then went back to looking at Mainspring and Prowl, who were now retracing Mainspring's steps back toward Jazz's office.

Red Alert couldn't see into Jazz's office. It would be a perfect place for an act of treachery. But who would know about it? Mainspring would, and Jazz, of course… Would anyone else be aware of that?

Pit, no… Red Alert had confronted Jazz about it in the middle of the entrance room. Anyone could know.

Mainspring and Prowl reached Jazz's office and went in.

Red Alert had to do something. He commed Prowl, and waited anxiously for the mech to answer him.

Prowl's response was quick. "What is it?"

"What are you doing?"

"Mainspring wanted me to see—"

Static.

"Prowl!" Red Alert said.

No answer.

The alarm went off. Makeshift jumped back, leaving the knife in Prowl's back as panic overwhelmed his core. He opened the door and sprinted out into the hallway.

Red Alert's voice came over the PA system. "WE HAVE A TRAITOR ON THE BASE! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! HE'S COMING DOWN THE HALLWAY TOWARD THE ENTRANCE ROOM! STOP HIM BEFORE HE GETS TO THE ELEVATOR!"

Pit, no. Makeshift ran faster, and burst through the doors to the entrance room, sprinting across. They were just starting to get up, too slow on their pedes.

"THE BASE IS GOING ON FULL LOCKDOWN! I REPEAT, THIS IS NOT A DRILL! SOMEONE STOP HIM!"

Makeshift made it to the elevator. A few others lunged at him, but they were too late. The doors closed and he hit the button to take him to the ground level.

The elevator started its slow descent.

This was not going to work. They were going to be ready for him by the time he reached the bottom. He needed to exit the elevator before then. He reached up, but Mainspring wasn't tall enough to reach the emergency exit, so he transformed to a different frame and tried again. The door on the roof of the elevator opened and he climbed up to the top of it. Hopefully, there would be some side passage he could reach from the elevator shaft.

Then the elevator stopped. And then a moment later, it started moving back up.

"I don't think he'll be on the elevator by the time it gets back to the top," Red Alert said.

"No," Mirage replied. "He's already passed a few of the service exits he could have taken."

Red Alert glared at the noblemech. "If you'd let me put cameras in your vaults, we'd know where he was."

"Oh, we'll know," Mirage studied his datapad. "Just give it a breem…

They were in Red Alert's office. Normally he wouldn't let anyone else in here, but Mirage knew the tower better than he did.

"What's the code for Jazz's office? We can't get in." Ironhide asked over the open comm.

Red Alert hesitated, then sent the code to Ironhide. Jazz was going to have to change it anyway.

"There," Mirage said. "He triggered a sensor. Send the guards to this intersection." He showed Red Alert the place on the blueprint he had open on his datapad. Red Alert sent his guards to block the double agent's escape.

"Mainspring," Mirage muttered. "I can't believe it. I honestly can't believe it."

"I knew there was one somewhere," Red Alert didn't want to admit that Mainspring had been on the lower end of his potential traitors list as well.

"Another sensor. He's trapped in there," Mirage said. "There's nowhere for him to go—the elevator's the only way down."

"Uh, Red?" Ironhide's voice said over the comm. "Were you looking for Mainspring?"

"Yes?" Red Alert replied.

"Well, he's here in Jazz's office… unconscious and stuffed under the desk…"

What on all of Cybertron? Mainspring? Unconscious in Jazz's office?

"What is it?" Mirage asked.

"Are you sure? Where's Prowl?"

"Yep, this is Mainspring," Ironhide said. "Ratchet already took Prowl away. It didn't look good, and there's a lot of energon on the floor."

If Mainspring was still in Jazz's office… that was impossible. Red Alert had seen him leave. Unless it had been a hologram or something. "Were there just two in there? Prowl and Mainspring?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Who is this?" Red Alert pulled up the feed of the camera that pointed toward Jazz's office door. He backed it up to when Mainspring and that other mech had first gone in and showed it to Mirage.

"Huh?" Mirage said, then narrowed his optics. "That's… Makeshift. He's in our department…"

"I know he's in your department," Red Alert said. "He went in, and didn't come back out… but they just found Mainspring unconscious in Jazz's office, not him."

"What?" Mirage said.

"I'm just as confused as you are. Does he have any mods? Like a hologram generator, maybe?"

"Makeshift?"

"Yes."

"Not that I know of," Mirage said. "You'll have to ask Jazz."

Reports from the guards down in the vaults came back. They'd cornered him, but then he hadn't been there. Red Alert told them to keep looking—to scour the place. Mecha didn't just disappear… well, with the exception of the one sitting right next to him.

He glared at Mirage again, then commed Jazz.

The wind filled his audios and Makeshift gripped the handle of his grappling hook harder as he swung sideways along the tower. He'd reached the end of the chain. He needed another handhold so he could go down the next leg of the journey. But first the wind needed to die down. He hated heights but this was better than being caught—that was for certain. He found another handhold and clung to the building as he hit the button to release the hook. It fell down past him and he retracted it, then hooked it into the wall where he was and started down the next several hundred meters.

He found another handhold before he reached the end of the hook's range, and used it. There was a possibility they'd have mecha waiting for him at the bottom. This wasn't exactly the fastest way down, though if he was quick enough, he could make it almost as fast as the elevator. It was the searching for handholds that took time.

Hopefully, they wouldn't find his exit and follow him out here. Why did they make these towers so slagging high?

He'd sent his report back already, just in case he didn't make it to the bottom. He wasn't sure if he'd actually killed Prowl because he hadn't had time to stay and check. If he hadn't panicked—If he'd just waited and stabbed the tactician once more to be sure, he'd be able to call the mission a certain success.

But it was too late for that now. And there was nowhere to go.

He heard a sound like the wind picking up and braced himself, but then realized it wasn't the wind. It was an engine.

"Need a lift?" a voice asked. A purple seeker hovered right next to him.

"Who are you?" Makeshift demanded.

"Skywarp, duh," the seeker said. "I'm with the Decepticons. They sent me to rescue you so the 'Bots can't get any information from you. Do you or don't you want a ride?"

"That would be nice," Makeshift said.

"Then jump," Skywarp said with a grin in his voice.

Makeshift wasn't so sure about that. "On second thought…"

"Oh, come on, I'll catch you."

He didn't trust this seeker—the mech seemed overly cheerful—almost unhinged.

"They're waiting for you at the bottom. You're not going to get away."

Makeshift glanced down, then shuttered his optics as he felt the world tilting and spinning. "Okay, okay," he said. "Ready?"

"Yep."

Makeshift let go of his grappling hook, and pushed off of the tower.

"Psyche!" Skywarp dodged out of his way. Makeshift screamed as he felt himself dropping. He was falling. He was going to die…

He heard the seeker laughing, and then an instant later, something crashed into him. He clung to it, trembling.

"Whoa," Skywarp said. "You're really heavy. Hey, you're going to crush me holding on like that. Cut it out or I'll stop rescuing you."

Makeshift's spark was pulsing so rapidly he thought it might explode. He held on more tightly and didn't let go until they landed hard and rolled to a stop in an empty street.

Then he got up and backed away from the crazy seeker, venting hard. He looked behind himself toward the tall tower he'd just escaped from.

Well, that had been enough excitement for one orn.

Time to go home and report on his successful mission.