Shockwave watched the spark in the jar. It had been out of its frame for ten breems now and it still hadn't imploded, which meant he could probably keep it alive indefinitely, separated from its frame. The question now was whether he could put it back. He had tried once before with another spark and had been unsuccessful.

His instruments recorded the pulse and strength of the isolated spark, which was sustained by the spark energy he had collected. He had to use the exact amount it needed. Too much and the spark would overload; not enough and the spark would die out.

Without the spark, the test subject's frame was completely inert, despite the fact that it was still in working condition. It was a marvel of medicine. So long as he kept spark energy feeds attached to the faceplate, spark chamber, and a few other living systems, he could do whatever he wanted to the rest of the frame without risking this mech's life. He could perform surgeries that would normally be fatal, or modify or repair the spark chamber itself. He could completely reformat this mech's frame, bring back mods and upgrades that had been impossible since the Quintesson wars.

But first he needed to make sure he could put the spark back successfully.

Slowly, he lowered the radiant, pulsating light toward the mechs' spark chamber, then increased the spark energy input by five percent as he opened the container. The spark sputtered fitfully, but he forced it into its place and trapped it there, waiting, still administering spark energy to keep it from going out.

Slowly the spark stabilized, and some of the subject's survival protocols activated. Shockwave set the jar aside and removed the spark energy feed. "Log entry twelve hundred five. Subject four hundred twenty four. Operation successful. Subject's spark was removed completely and suspended outside the spark chamber for a period of ten breems, then returned. Stabilized at twenty one astroseconds."

The next test would be to see if he could take a spark out of one frame and put it into another one. He also wanted to see if mecha retained access to their memories if their spark was temporarily removed and then replaced. He should probably wake this subject up and interview him.

Maybe not this subject, though. Maybe the next one. There was something else he needed to try and he didn't want to wait.

He had his machinery remove the mech's spark again. This time it was weaker, probably because of its recent trauma.

Shockwave took the jar and brought it away from the frame—as far as the cord feeding it spark energy would allow.

And then he set it down and went back to his control panel to shut off the energy. He watched from across the room. The spark flickered and sputtered. It grew, then shrank into a tiny speck of light. And then it disappeared in a flash that made the container shake.

Sparks often caused a small explosion when they went out. Not enough to do much to the reinforced glass of that container, but it usually severely damaged the spark chamber and core of the mech or femme who'd been offlined. That made spark chamber and core research very difficult.

Shockwave went over to the lifeless frame on the berth. He started removing the monitoring and spark support equipment, but left the chest and spark chamber open so he could see the empty place where the spark had been. Everything was perfectly intact. "Log entry twelve hundred six. Subject four hundred twenty four. Subject terminated. I removed the spark and allowed it to extinguish itself outside of the spark chamber in order to leave the spark chamber and core intact. Subject's frame will be retained for research purposes. End log entry." He could learn so much from this. He could learn to remove a mech's spark, reprogram their core, and put the spark back. He could do almost anything. He was on the brink. He was about to change the world of science and medicine.

But that would only be the beginning. That all-consuming desire to discover, to prove, to create, to understand, would never be fully satisfied.

Prowl sat in his office, looking over some reports estimating Megatron's current forces, trying to prepare for the next battle, whenever it happened. He was a little more on top of things than before, thanks to the handful of mecha he'd chosen for his team, but there was still plenty to do. Plenty to plan for, plenty to re-think. Now that the majority of the seekers had joined the Decepticons, he had to revise all of his strategies to take aerial assault into account. No matter what he did, he'd have to expect higher casualty rates.

Almost everyone else in the command element had stayed up all off-cycle, and they were recharging now. Ratchet had insisted they all get some rest—he'd apparently had to threaten to put Orion in stasis.

Of course, by that point, Prowl had been online again and available to take charge for a few joors while everyone else rested. Not too much had happened, though, since he didn't have to deal personally with the public fallout from Vos.

He probably ought to have to deal with it. It was partly his fault that the city had been destroyed.

True, there hadn't been much of a choice, so he couldn't be too angry at himself, but… he wished he'd had time to think of a way out. Since waking up, he'd come up with a few plans that might have worked…

It didn't matter now. Vos had fallen and that couldn't be undone. Many mecha were angry with the Autobots about it—others believed the Autobots and were angry at the Decepticons. Prowl was sure there was a third, less vocal category who were simply afraid. It didn't really matter which side had done it—the fall of Vos had been an act of instigation. It meant there was no stopping the war now, not until justice had been meted out.

Jazz commed him over an external frequency. Prowl hesitated, then answered. He hoped this was something important.

"Hey mech, I had a question."

"What?"

"Actually, two questions."

"Go on."

"Maybe three."

"Limit of two," Prowl deadpanned. "And it'll drop to one if you don't start asking them already."

"Okay, first, this is more of a request than a question, actually. Does that count?"

"Would you stop that?"

"Stop what?" Prowl could hear the laugh in his voice. He scowled. "Sorry, mech, for real though. I found out when Megatron's gonna move all the prisoners from the Tesarus battle and such ta his new base, and I wanna try and rescue them all while they're in transit. I've got Mainspring looking over it too, but if ya've got time, it'd be nice ta have some help figuring out the best route ta get them out of Kaon."

"How far in the future would you need this?" Prowl asked.

"By next orn." Jazz said.

Prowl could probably manage that. He leaned back in his chair, then flinched. His spark hadn't stopped hurting since he'd returned from Vos, but at least when he sat still it wasn't too bad. "Send me what you have and I'll make some suggestions. If that's all, then…"

"Hang on, I haven't asked any questions yet."

"Your limit's one now."

"Fine. Why did ya do what Megatron asked ya to in Vos?"

Prowl blinked. He'd concocted an answer to that question in case it came up, but he hadn't expected Jazz to ask him.

He couldn't tell the truth. Jazz wasn't cleared to know about Optimus and Elita's bond.

"I mean, I probably would have made the same choice, but…"

"I did it to save myself," Prowl said. "I panicked when he started offlining Elita's mecha."

"Ta save yourself? Nah, see, I don't think ya'd do that."

"Excuse me?"

"I remember one time ya risked your life ta save a wanted criminal."

"That was before the Decepticons," Prowl said. "If I offline, we lose this war. Take Tesarus as an example of what happens when I'm not here." It was a slight stretching of the truth. He was fairly certain that if Orion's life hadn't been in danger, he would have made the other choice. From a tactical standpoint, the seekers joining the Decepticons was actually not quite as bad as losing Prowl. But there had been a very high likelihood of Megatron killing him anyway, even if he'd cooperated. So in the end, it would have been better for Prowl to refuse, and let Megatron kill their whole party.

But since killing Elita meant killing Orion…

As it was, trying to stall long enough for Ironhide to show up had been a risky gamble. But the alternative had been losing the Prime for certain, as well as Prowl's own life and possibly Ironhide's, which had about a ten percent chance of leading to Chromia's death. And then who would lead the Autobots? Red Alert? Jazz? Mainspring? Not that they weren't capable, but none of them were the kind of mecha others rallied around.

There was no way to win the war without Orion. It had been a painful choice, but not really a difficult one.

"I still…"

"Believe me, I simply acted in my own best interest, and you ought to be grateful for it because this army needs me."

Jazz was silent.

"Do you think I should have chosen differently?"

"I don't know, mech," Jazz said. "Just it ain't real good, having all the seekers in Kaon now."

"I suppose you're right," Prowl snapped. "I hadn't thought of that."

He cut the comm. before Jazz could answer, then gripped the edge of his desk hard, waiting out his own frustration and trying to vent slowly because the tension in his frame was making his spark hurt.

He would never forget that moment the city had started to fall. He would never forget the moment Megatron had murdered the femme sitting next to him. Prowl had intentionally made a mistake reading the datapad. He'd been trying to stall.

In many ways, her death was on his helm.

Just like the deaths of all the seekers who'd offlined in Vos.

And all the soldiers in the Slaughter City and Tesarus battles.

His datapad pinged and he checked it to see that Jazz had sent him a message with a file attached. He sighed, and opened the message.

[Sorry, mech, I didn't mean to offend you. I figured I was missing information about the situation somehow, but I shouldn't have pried. Any case, here's our plans for rescuing the Autobot prisoners. Let me know what you think. Thanks! –Jazz]

Prowl set it aside. He'd look at it later.

"We are prepared to fight now, Lord Megatron," the seeker was saying. "Let us storm Iacon this orn, before they're ready for us."

I listened carefully as Megatron considered how to answer.

We might be able to defeat the Autobots now, but I don't feel as if I truly have the loyalty of the seekers yet. As soon as Optimus Prime is dead, they will stop helping me. "No," he said. "No doubt they are already ready for us. We can't afford to walk into a trap. Optimus Prime is devious and ruthless, and he is not a fool. Neither is his tactician. They must have had a back-up plan for if you refused to do as they asked. Instead of rushing into battle, let us be patient and wait for a good opportunity to strike."

The seekers weren't too happy about that. "Surely, we can overcome them," the head Councilmech said. "Even without us, you outnumber the Autobots. With us, you cannot lose."

"Do you know much of what happened when we tried to take Slaughter City?"

"No. I wasn't paying attention to your little squabble back then."

"Well," Megatron said. I need to get rid of this one somehow. He's too used to being in charge. "We had the Autobots cornered—surrounded. And suddenly the tides turned. The whole battle was a trap. Surely they will all suspect an attack. Surely they are prepared."

"So what do you propose we do?" the head Councilmech demanded. "We want justice!"

The door opened and Blackangle slipped in and stood by the wall, watching the proceedings with interest.

"We must outmaneuver the Autobots," Megatron said. "The only way we'll stay ahead of them is if we continue to take them by surprise. My tactical team is already working on a plan, which we will put into motion within the decaorn."

The Councilmech scowled. I suppose he has a point… if the Autobots are as dangerous as he says. But he's still underestimating the might of Vos…

What is he doing here? Megatron had noticed Blackangle standing by the side of the room. Soundwave, go see what he wants and then report back to me.

I moved from my computer console and beckoned for Blackangle to follow me out into the hallway.

"Soundwave," Blackangle nodded, but he was seething inside. Sends his pet drone to come talk to me. I'm supposed to be his fragging second in command, and I have important information for him, though I'm still not sure I believe it. I've seen a lot of things, but telepathy…?

Frag.

Mirage had said something about Blaster.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"I need to talk to Lord Megatron about the Autobot spy."

"He's busy."

"I can see that. But this might be very important."

"Tell me then."

"No," Blackangle scowled at me. I won't let this mech try to take the credit. He's already Megatron's favorite for some unfathomable reason.

I hesitated.

He was determined to tell Megatron himself, which meant there was no way for me to hide Blaster's existence anymore.

But maybe I could convince Megatron to let me try to recruit him. The mechling was bound to end up on one side of this conflict or the other, and on this side I'd be able to protect him. If I could convince him to come with me, that was.

"So," Blackangle said. "Tell Megatron I need to talk to him as soon as he's got time."

I commed Megatron. "Blackangle's mecha have obtained information from Mirage."

Megatron took an astrosecond to respond. "What information?"

"It's… complicated. You may wish to wait until you're finished meeting with the seekers, so we can discuss it. Blackangle has insisted on telling you himself."

"Very well," Megatron said. "Wait out there with him until I'm ready."

I looked at Blackangle.

"What?" he demanded, arms crossed.

"Megatron will speak with you when he's finished with the seekers."

Blackangle nodded and leaned against the wall to wait. He mentally worked on his plans to overthrow Megatron while we stood together in the hallway, which was very amusing.

If he wasn't such a terrible mech, I'd feel sorry for him. The orn he moved against Megatron would likely be the orn he offlined.

We were waiting in the hall for quite a while before the doors opened and the seekers filed past us. Once they'd gone by, Blackangle led the way into the command center, and I followed.

"All right," Megatron glared at him. "What is it you want?"

"The Autobot spy told us something," Blackangle said. "Something I'm not sure I can believe, but apparently he seems certain about it."

Megatron gestured for him to continue.

"He says there's a… mechling under the Autobots' protection who can read minds."

Megatron stiffened. What? Another telepath? Of course they'd want their own telepath, but… I thought you were the only one, Soundwave…

"I know it sounds crazy—"

"Where did they find this mechling?" Megatron demanded.

Blackangle shrugged. "I don't know, but he's supposedly in Praxus now. The Autobots haven't recruited him, but are keeping an optic on him to make sure we don't find him? At least that's what the spy said. I'm not sure why they're worried about that, though. It's not like we're looking… Lord Megatron?"

"Did you get the mechling's exact location?"

"Yes," Blackangle said. "You're… I thought you'd be more skeptical about this."

"Whether or not the noblemech is telling the truth, this bears investigation. Pass on the information you've obtained to Soundwave so he can look into it." If they're guarding this mechling, they must think we know about him. Soundwave, have you been keeping things from me?

I didn't react.

"I can investigate it my—"

"No," Megatron said. "Leave."

Blackangle sighed. I only have to put up with this for a little longer and then I'll be in charge. He left the room and Megatron turned his attention toward me.

Explain.

I took in a deep vent. "There is another telepath."

"You led me to believe you were the only one."

"Not intentionally," I said. "I didn't think a-about him as a potential resource. He's ju-ust a mechling."

"But you know him?" Megatron said. We can't let the Autobots recruit him. "Do you think he would trust you?"

I nodded hesitantly.

"But…?" Megatron said.

"He mi-ight not trust you."

Megatron scowled. Well he's nothing but a danger to us if he won't join us.

As much as I wanted to, I couldn't argue with that.

Megatron was watching me carefully. If you can talk him around, I'm willing to risk recruiting him, so long as you keep an optic on him. Otherwise we'll have to kill him.

I shook my helm.

"Well at the very least, we need to get him away from the Autobots."

I nodded. That was true.

And now that Megatron knew about him it was too dangerous for Keepsake and Cam to take care of him. I didn't want to risk their safety.

"Has Blackangle sent you Blaster's location yet?"

I checked my datapad to see that I'd received a message from him. I nodded.

Good. Megatron thought. Go find out if Mirage was telling the truth, and then I want you to take some of the seekers and fetch this mechling.

I nodded again, and left, heading toward the place where we kept the high security prisoners. When I got close, I shrank my range. I didn't know what state Mirage was in, and I didn't like the idea of being in his helm right now. I had already learned Blaster's location when I'd interrogated him right after capturing him. I didn't need to prove that he was telling the truth.

But to keep up appearances, I walked past the guards and stood in front of his cell. He was curled up on the ground, and without listening to his thoughts, I couldn't even tell if he was conscious. But when my shadow fell over him, he shifted and looked up at me. Aside from a few scrapes, his only visible injury was a deep, oozing crack in his faceplate, so I stretched my range out, curious.

It was a mistake. He ached all over, and his faceplate felt like it was on fire. Between that, exhaustion, and a sort of nauseated dread in his emotional core, he barely had the strength to glare at me. What do you want?

"Were you telling the truth about Blaster's location?" I asked.

He didn't move, though I could feel him trembling. I thought I already let that slip… that's why I told them. I thought you already knew…

"I didn't," I insisted.

But I could have sworn… A light of understanding dawned in his flickering optics. I see. You conveniently forgot to tell Megatron, didn't you? Maybe you should think about why you feel you have to protect—

I pulled my range back in and walked away. "Mirage was telling the truth," I said to Megatron over the comm.

"Good," Megatron replied. "Now you know what you have to do."

Jazz got a comm. from Blurr. He'd been sort of expecting it all orn, so he answered without delay.

"Hey, mech," he said. "'Cons show up?"

"Yeah. A bunch of seekers," Blurr said. "Headed straight for the building."

He had thought Soundwave would avoid passing on information about Blaster's whereabouts, but he hadn't been willing to risk it. He'd warned Blaster and his caretakers to move again, then left Blurr there to watch once the building was empty.

"Soon as they're all inside, ya can trip that little surprise we left for them," Jazz figured Orion would probably be disappointed if he killed them, so he'd set up a way to just knock them out and capture them.

"Got it," Blurr said.

Jazz waited.

"Uh, what if not all of them go in the building?"

"Better if they do, so they can't call for backup. How many stayed behind?"

"Just one."

"Ya think ya could shoot them from where ya are?"

"Maybe," Blurr said. "The one that didn't go inside is on the roof now, in mech form… hmm… he doesn't actually look like a seeker…"

"What's he look like?" If it was Megatron, he'd definitely have Blurr try to shoot him.

"I think it might be Soundwave?"

Oh. That was a different story.

"I've never actually seen him before, but I've seen images of him… I bet I can hit him from here."

"Nope. Forget it. Forget the surprise too, just get out of there now."

"But he's the reason they caught Mirage, isn't he?"

"Exactly. I don't want him ta catch you. If ya shoot him and miss, he'll find ya, and he'll come after ya, and there won't be anything I can do about it. Get outta there, mech. That's an order."

"Okay," Blurr said. He didn't sound too happy about it.

Jazz sighed. Soundwave was off-base right now which meant he could try to rescue Mirage… but he'd have to get into Kaon and all the way through the city-state to the Decepticon base, then sneak in, find 'Raj, break him out, and sneak out again, before Soundwave got back. If the telepath flew back to Kaon, then Jazz would have enough time. But if he groundbridged, which was more likely, there was no way Jazz would make it.

Too risky. His actual plan was pretty risky too, but if it was successful, it would accomplish more than just getting Mirage out.

Jazz could wait.

He hated it, but he had to wait.

"So," he said to Blurr. "Keep talking, mech, I don't wanna lose track of ya. Where are ya?"

"In the elevator heading to the first floor so I can drive back to the groundbridge station," Blurr said.

"Good."

"You're pretty scared of this Soundwave mech, aren't you?" Blurr said. "I mean, I know he can supposedly read minds, but he didn't look that scary."

"Ya'd better hope ya never find out how scary he is," Jazz said. "He probably wouldn't kill ya, but as soon as he knows ya're there, there's not much point in running."

"If he's here, that means he's not in Kaon. Could we try and get Mirage out, while he's here?"

"I already thought of that, and I don't think we've got enough time."

"I could—I don't know—get his attention and cause a distraction or something."

"Mech, as soon as he got in range of ya, he'd know that ya were distracting him so I could go break 'Raj out."

"Oh. Right."

"Unless ya want me ta teach ya how ta erase your own memories."

"Eh… I'll pass on that one… actually, it would be a good thing to know… actually, if it would help you get Mirage back..."

"I do have a plan for that," Jazz said. "We'll get him out, don't worry."

"Can I help?"

Jazz considered that. He did need another mech to help guide the prisoners safely out of Kaon, and if Blurr was going to volunteer… "Sure. Get back here, and I'll brief ya on it."

"Thank you," Blurr said.

Jazz was getting another comm, this one from Optimus. It was internal, so he could take it at the same time.

"Hey, O.P. welcome back ta the land of the living. What can I do for ya?"

"Jazz," Optimus said. "I just learned that Mirage is a prisoner of the Decepticons."

"Yeah, we're pretty sure of that at this point." Jazz said.

Blurr spoke. "Okay, I'm on the bottom floor and heading out of the building."

"Good," Jazz replied.

Orion's voice came over the comm. next. "Do you have a plan to recover him?" The worry was evident, even in the Prime's simulated voice.

"Sure thing," Jazz said. "We'll have him back by the end of next orn if all goes well, and hopefully most of the mecha we left behind in Tesarus too."

"Thank you," Orion said.

"Ya didn't think I'd leave him there, did ya?"

"No, but I wanted to make sure rescuing him was a high priority."

His words sparked a memory. Breeze had come and asked Jazz to hunt Wheeljack down to stop him from trying to kill Shockwave. It had completely slipped Jazz's processor. He had been so busy…

And he couldn't worry about it now, either.

"I don't think anyone's following me," Blurr said.

"Good. Come back ta base, then. Let me know if anything happens."

"Got it."

Jazz cut the comm. with Blurr and replied to Orion. "Don't worry, boss 'bot. It is currently my top priority."

Orion commed Master Yoketron. There were a lot of other mecha that he should probably talk to first, but he needed a break for a few breems.

His Circuit-Su instructor answered promptly. "Good orn, Orion."

"Good orn, Master Yoketron," Orion replied. "I wanted to apologize for missing our scheduled appointment this orn."

"That is all right," Yoketron said solemnly. "I would have been surprised if you'd come."

"I will do my best to make it next orn."

"Thank you," Yoketron said. "I appreciate how seriously you take your training."

Orion shuttered his optics.

"Is there something else?"

"I… no. I just… there's a lot on my processor."

"I am at your disposal, Orion, if you would like to talk…"

"It can wait until next orn."

"Very well," Yoketron said. "I will expect to see you then."

"Thank you," Orion said, and cut the comm.

He wished he could go this orn—to get away from the tower for a few joors if for no other reason.

There were so many things to think about—so many things had gone wrong last off-cycle—so many things could go wrong in the future. Jazz was planning to rescue all the prisoners taken in the Tesarus battle. The seekers were reportedly allied with the Decepticons now, which meant that Orion's forces would be even more outnumbered during the next battle.

He had felt almost confident the orn before. He'd thought he had finally figured out what he needed to do. He'd thought that he was going to get ahead of Megatron.

But now he was farther behind.

He still wasn't sure how he felt about Prowl's decision in Vos. He knew the tactician had done it to save Orion's life, but others had died—Harmony and Dion and hundreds of seekers...

He wondered what he would have done if it had been him in Prowl's place. It would have been so hard to watch Elita and her mecha offline. He would probably have tried to talk Megatron out of it. He would have begged and pleaded, but he didn't think he would have given the Decepticons that opportunity to destroy Vos and get away with it.

He would have died. He would like to believe that the Autobots could go on without him…

Yet he still had future responsibilities—things in the Covenant that had been foretold. And was it selfish of him to abandon that? Would it be selfish to allow himself to die and return to the Allspark, leaving his friends to fight this war that he had started?

He had to conclude that, all things considered, Prowl had probably made the right choice. But he wasn't sure if he'd have been strong enough to make that choice. Or maybe he wouldn't have been strong enough to make the other choice. Maybe he would have given in, and done as they asked so they'd stop killing. He had only felt an echo of what Elita had when she'd watched her mecha offline, and that had been terrible. He might have given in, just to stop them from dying, even though it would mean hundreds of other deaths and tens of thousands of seekers joining the Decepticons.

So, in a way, he was grateful he'd stayed behind. He was grateful he hadn't faced that terrible situation.

But he shouldn't be. Orion didn't know what he would have done, but it still should have been him. This should have been his burden to bear. He could still remember the expression on Prowl's faceplate when the other mech had explained why he was glad Orion hadn't gone. When the seekers thought of their city falling, it was Prowl's voice they would remember—Prowl's voice they would blame. Prowl knew that. He had almost certainly thought about it even before choosing to do what Megatron had asked.

Orion took in a deep vent and tried to shove his guilt aside so he could focus on his work. Some of the city-states he'd visited had contacted the Autobots to say they might back out of the agreement they'd made the orn before. He had to write back to each of them and assure them personally that the fall of Vos had not been his doing.

It might not be enough.

They might not believe him.

But he had to try, and hope that the truth would convince them.