Orion looked up when the door opened and Alpha Trion entered his office. Trion looked upset about something, and for just a moment, Orion was annoyed that his former mentor had just barged in. He had plenty of things to deal with already, he didn't need someone else telling him what to do.

Then he banished that thought. "Alpha Trion," he said. "Welcome. Is everything all right? Can I help you with anything?"

"I don't have time for this and I know you don't either," Alpha Trion said. "So I will make it as brief as I can. You, Optimus Prime, are neglecting your duty."

Orion frowned. "I'm not certain… if I understand what you mean."

"A Prime is a spiritual leader," Alpha Trion said. "Spiritual, Orion. As the need arises, he or she may also act in a political or military role, but first and foremost, your role is as Primus's liaison."

Orion looked down.

"You sent me a message you had received from the High Defender of the Simfur Temple. It is your task to address his concerns. No, that was not a mistake—he was right to send it to you."

"I don't have time," Orion said.

"No, you don't, because you're wasting time doing things you shouldn't."

"If I don't hold this city together, mecha will offline."

"If you don't perform the tasks Primus has given you, then we will all offline. You must deal with what is happening at the core, and you must also resume your training to receive the Matrix."

"But…" Orion said, feeling lost. "Without the key, there's no point…"

"Other way around," Alpha Trion said. "If you aren't ready, then there's no point to having the key. Train first. There will be opportunities to get it back, unless Megatron drops it into a smelting pit."

"What if he does?"

"I don't know," Alpha Trion said. "We'll have to find the Matrix some other way. In any case, it doesn't excuse you from training."

"How can I train? Yoketron's…" Orion stopped, and looked away, frustration and pain overloading his core.

Alpha Trion was silent for a moment.

"We've confirmed he's offline," Orion said.

"I'm sorry," Alpha Trion spoke more quietly. "He was a good mech… you can still continue to move through the trials. I have asked Maccadam to help you with them."

"What about you?"

"I'm far too busy."

Orion hesitated, then looked up to meet his mentor's gaze. "Then so am I."

Alpha Trion's optic ridges shot up.

"I am… no longer your assistant, Alpha Trion, so please stop treating me like a youngling who needs correction. I am doing the best I know how to help the mecha I have vowed to help. I am very tired, and I have recently lost a wise mentor and a close friend. I respect and admire you and always will, Alpha Trion, but… I would like to request some respect in return, if you're willing to offer it."

Alpha Trion studied him thoughtfully.

Orion waited for him to speak.

Slowly, the older mech stepped forward and sat across the desk from Orion. "You are a youngling, to me," he said quietly. "And sometimes you do need correction. But you are right. Forgive me."

"If you say that I need to go to the core," Orion said, "I will trust your judgment, and I will try to go. Do you know if anything can be done to help Primus?"

Alpha Trion was silent.

"Alpha Trion?"

"Many will say," Alpha Trion said. "That Primus's illness stemmed from the war itself, but it has been going on longer than that. My siblings and I have known for some time that he was unwell but… Mechling, you must understand, Primus has always been there to answer our questions. Now that he's not speaking to us... We don't know what to do. We don't know what may be wrong with him, or if he can be helped. Like you, I'd rather control the things I can, and ignore the larger problems, but those have a way of catching up to you eventually."

Seeing Alpha Trion look so worried was unsettling. Orion almost wished the mech would go back to chastising him.

"And my concern about your training," Alpha Trion said, "is that if Primus does… go dark, before you receive the Matrix… I don't know if it will work without him. I don't know if… it's even possible to become a Prime without Primus… We have run out of time. You are not ready, but Primus could go dark any orn, and you must receive the Matrix before he does..."

"But we don't have the key."

"Perhaps you're right that you should make that a priority then. Do you have plans to retrieve it?"

"Yes," Orion said. "We're working on that."

"Good. My siblings may be willing to help, though we don't want to get involved for fear of involving the Fallen."

Orion nodded. "I will let Jazz know you are available to help."

"Good," Alpha Trion said. "And… I will respect your decision to stay here instead of going to Simfur to check on the Core, though I think it's foolishness—trying to save one city when the whole world is at stake."

"I will not abandon Iacon to internal collapse."

"Then you should find others to run it," Alpha Trion said. "In fact, if I were you, I'd have done that already. If you had, you would have time to focus your energy on the more important things."

"Thank you. We are trying, but it's difficult to know who to trust. Alpha Trion?"

"Yes?"

"I'm glad you weren't… with the rest of the Council when they were attacked."

"Thank you," Alpha Trion said. "I'm glad that you didn't get yourself killed either, charging in to rescue them like you did."

Orion looked down.

"Well, I should go," Alpha Trion said. "But if you need anything I can help with… let me know."

"Thank you."

"I'll have Maccadam contact you about training."

"Again, thank you."

"And… if you ever need wisdom, and you have no one to turn to… read the Covenant of Primus. It holds many answers."

Orion watched him go, and then put his helm down on the table. Was he doing the wrong thing? Alpha Trion was probably right, but he had to do this. He didn't trust anyone else to handle the issues in the city right now. Maybe in a few decaorns when things calmed down again. Would that be too late?

Prowl didn't know what he would do if the Council hadn't been killed off, providing them with enough work to last them for decaorns. He didn't know what he would do if he couldn't lose himself all orn every orn, working late into the offcycle until he was so tired he couldn't think.

The work was absolutely essential. It kept everything else at bay—the exhaustion, the anxiety, and most importantly of all, Master Yoketron's death.

He finished one task, then started another, going down his long, long list.

Yoketron was gone. Dead. Prowl had known mecha to offline before, but never anyone so close to him. Part of him felt guilty for going on with his life as if nothing had happened. He knew others would see him acting normal and think that he didn't care. But he had to keep going, had to keep working, had to pretend everything was normal. If he didn't, then… then what? He didn't know, but there was a sense that something terrible would happen if he faced the facts. And that inexplicable fear was strong enough to keep him up late into the off-cycle, and wake him after only a few joors of recharge. Yoketron's death was like a pitch black abyss, looming behind him, ready to swallow him whole, and the only way to keep it at bay was to pretend it wasn't there, to distract himself, to focus on what he was doing so intensely that he didn't have to feel it.

He finished his next task and a low fuel warning popped up in his processor. He was tempted to dismiss it, but this was the third one, and he really should refuel so he could keep up with his work.

He pushed away from his desk and made his way out to the front room. He didn't talk to anyone as he got a cube of energon and turned to take it back to his office. He heard someone come up behind him and determined it was Mainspring before the mech caught up to him.

"Prowl," he said. "How long have you been in your office?"

"I've been busy."

"So have we all," Mainspring said. "But no one's seen you for more than an orn. I wanted to talk to you."

"I saw you at the meeting last orn," Prowl said. He didn't want to talk to anyone.

"Yes, and then we all rushed off to get things done. I'm worried about you. How are you doing?"

"I'm perfectly fine, thank you," Prowl said. "And I don't have time to waste. I need to get back to my work."

Mainspring fell behind for a moment and Prowl resigned himself to the fact that he'd probably just offended one of the few mecha who didn't actively dislike him.

"Well, if you need to talk, you know where you can find me."

Prowl didn't answer, just hurried to his office and threw himself back into his work.

"So," I said. "Good ne-ews fo-or you."

The prisoner looked up, not very comforted. He'd been working on an escape plan, plotting my death, thinking about trying again to convince me to release him. It was pathetic.

I continued. "Lord Megatron doesn't want po-olitical prisoners in the mines, e-even without their memories," I said.

What does that mean? "You'll let me go then?" Ratbat said. Or kill me. He might kill me, oh Primus save me, I can't believe I ended up in this mess.

And there was that mentality, that belief that he deserved better than this, the belief that he deserved to live.

"I wo-on't let you go," I said. Ravage, who was sitting on my shoulder, purred approvingly.

"Don't kill me. I can be useful. I have information. I'll tell you everything."

I thought about that. I wasn't sure I wanted to know everything about the Council, but some of his thoughts made me curious… "All right," I said. "If y-you tell me eno-ough, I'll let you live." Death was too good for him anyway. And besides, I wanted this revenge to belong to me, and I wasn't a killer.

So he talked. He told me some truth and some lies, trying to make himself look like the victim, but of course that wasn't going to help him.

I just listened, until he spilled out all of the Council's despicable secrets. By the time he was done, all doubts had fled my processor. Orion might believe he was right and we were wrong. But this wasn't even about right and wrong anymore, this was about Cybertron's survival.

They all had to go. All the Councils. Every government official, whether or not they knew who Halogen had been working for. All of them.

Would what I'd just heard from Ratbat ever reach Megatron's audios? Probably not. It didn't matter. The process of removing society's structure was already underway. He didn't need encouragement, and I definitely didn't want him to get any stupid ideas about what Ratbat had told me.

We could not ally ourselves with the forces contaminating the Council system.

"So, you'll let me live?" Ratbat whined pitifully.

I nodded and unlocked his cell.

Why? Ravage demanded. He ruined everything. We should kill him.

"Oh, thank you!" Ratbat said as he slipped out of his cell, but he was planning to attack me and make a run for it as soon as my back was turned. So I pinned him to the wall and put stasis cuffs on him before he had a chance. Ravage was right. He deserved to die—he deserved worse—but since I couldn't send him to the mines, I had to explore other options.

I'd had an idea. Back when I was younger, the concept would have disgusted me, but it seemed right at this point. Both merciless and merciful, both cruel and kind, better than he deserved at the very least. And most important, it was manageable, familiar.

"Come with me," I told him.

"Where are we going? You said you'd set me free."

I had said I'd let him live. Those were two very different things.

I beckoned for him to come. He didn't trust me and a large part of him wanted to try to fight or run. He wouldn't make it that far if he did. The very large cat on my shoulders would be more than happy to chase him down and bring him back.

But Ratbat made the wise choice for once and simply followed me.

It was probably a good thing he didn't know where we were going or I might have to drag him there.

We were going to have to leave the building to reach our destination. I wasn't sure why the place they'd chosen for Shockwave's lab wasn't really attached to the rest of the base, but that was the way Megatron wanted it. He wasn't scared of Shockwave, but some subconscious part of his processor must instinctively want to keep the scientist at arm's length.

Once we were out under the open sky, Ratbat decided he did want to run for it after all. Ravage leaped down and chased after him. I watched as my symbiot knocked him over, pinning him to the ground.

Ratbat whimpered as Ravage dug his claws in deeper than necessary.

I walked over. "Let him up," I said. Ravage reluctantly released him and climbed back onto my shoulders, claws shiny with wet energon.

I reached down and pulled Ratbat to his pedes. "Come," I said again.

"Where are we going? You promised you wouldn't kill me."

I nodded and put a hand on his shoulder to firmly guide him toward the building.

We entered Shockwave's lab and I expanded my range to find him. Fortunately he wasn't busy at the moment, just analyzing some data. I led Ratbat through the halls, shrinking my range again, because none of the processors in here were pleasant to be in. When we reached his office, I had Ravage get down and told him to stay outside and wait for me.

Shockwave looked up from his computer terminal when Ratbat and I came in. He was curious as to why I was here, and why I had brought the senator. He remembered Ratbat, of course. Unlike Searchlight, Shockwave had kept all his memories from before. I didn't need to hear it from either of them to know that Ratbat had been a loud influence for sending Shockwave to the Institute. I realized the scientist deserved revenge as well, even though he bore no ill feelings toward the senator. That made this idea even better.

"What are we doing here?" Ratbat whined again.

"Silence," I said quietly, in a way that sent chills down his back.

"Soundwave," Shockwave said. "Why have you come here?"

"I have a request."

Shockwave nodded, ready to hear me out.

"And a question," I continued. "Is it possible to make a mech into a symbiot?"

Ratbat gasped and backed away. "What?" he said. "Why? That's not…"

"I have not tried," Shockwave said, and now that the question was in his helm, it wasn't going to leave until he answered it. "I would be willing to attempt it…" he looked at Ratbat. "Though to ensure the best likelihood of success, I should test it on a few others to make sure."

"No, the se-enator will be a fine test subject," I said.

"No!" Ratbat said, backing away further.

Shockwave commed his guards to come in and restrain the mech, even as he spoke to me. "His personality may change, and I doubt I will be able to salvage any memories on the first try."

"You can erase his memories,"

The guards came in and grabbed hold of the panicking senator, who screamed and struggled.

"Where would you like us to take him?" One of them asked.

"There is also at least a thirty-one percent chance that he will offline."

I nodded. "Understood."

Ratbat was still struggling, still protesting.

"Very well. When I have time, I will attempt to discover the answer to your question. Would you like me to return the prisoner to you afterward?"

"Yes, Thank you." I turned and left them there, then picked up Ravage on my way out of the lab.

"You gave him to the scientist?" Ravage said. "I still wanted to kill him."

"Death isn't the worst punishment," I said as I made my way back toward the main base. "And eve-eryone deserves a second chance."

The mech who approached Megatron's throne was small, and though he walked with predatorial grace, he wasn't intimidating at first glance.

But Megatron knew this mech could kill him. He doubted that even Soundwave would be able to stop him. Soundwave wasn't here at the moment anyway, which was too bad, since Megatron was very curious to know what was going on in this visitor's helm.

He met his old trainer's bright violet optics, trying to judge the mech's mood. "Welcome, Casurus," he said, "to my humble abode."

"Spare me the slag, mechling," Casurus said. "I didn't come here for pretty words and I don't need your welcome."

Impatient, but not murderous. Megatron should be straightforward in that case. "Why did you come here?"

"Because I want something you can help me get, and I have information you want to hear."

Ah. "And I suppose if I refuse to help you, then…"

"I know you," Casurus said. "And I'm pretty sure you'll want to help me out. On the odd chance that you're too stubborn, I guess I could threaten you, but I'm not really in the mood to play games with a sparkling, so why don't you just shut up and let me tell you what you're going to do for me."

Megatron did not like the sudden feeling that he'd lost control of the conversation, but he sat back in his chair, trying to look confident. "Very well."

Casurus rolled his optics. "Dramatic flair will get you in trouble," he said. "It wastes so much time. In any case, I need your army. I need to get into Iacon."

"Why?"

"I need to kill some mecha. Old grudges. You'll understand some orn. But I can't get into the city without a sufficient distraction."

"Well," Megatron said. "If I had the resources to take Iacon, I might be able to help you. But they're too well defended."

"I don't need it this orn, just eventually. Make it a priority, though—my patience will only stretch so far."

"It's not a particularly valuable resource, though it would be a major blow to my enemies if I take their home city."

"That's where the information comes in," Casurus said. "They have old secrets there. Tricks, toys, weapons no one else has. Things from before the Quintesson wars, back when you had better technology. If you capture the Hall of Records and all the information there, you will win this war. There will be absolutely nothing anyone can do about it."

Megatron considered that for a few astroseconds. "And how do I know you're telling the truth?"

"Ha," Casurus said. "Not so naïve anymore, are you? Well, how about this? Does it matter? You want to take the city anyway, and the added possibility that you'll find some powerful weapons of mass destruction—which you need because you're stupid—is just a little added incentive. Take the first opportunity. I'll be ready."

Megatron was very wary of making an alliance with this mech, but refusing would not end well for him. There was another important question, though. "Who exactly are you intending to kill?"

"That's my own business," Casurus said. "Don't worry, I'm not going to interfere in your war, and my targets are a little out of your league anyway."

"If, as you say, the Hall of Records has weapons in it, what's to stop us from infiltrating it the way we did the Council Hall? We don't need an army."

Casurus shook his helm. "You're welcome to try. Let me know if you make an attempt so I can come watch—that'll be hilarious. Look, I can get you in there, but only with an army. The question is, do we have a deal?"

Megatron frowned. "I help you by taking Iacon so you can kill some enemies you refuse to name, and you help me by securing me more powerful weapons for my army."

"Exactly."

This seemed a little one-sided. "It doesn't appear that you have much to gain from the arrangement. I'm sure you, of all mecha, can sneak into Iacon on your own."

"Maybe, maybe not," Casurus said. "And what can I say, I like putting weapons into the hands of those who have the bearings to use them. Things tend to get pretty interesting for a while whenever I do that. Think it over, mechling. I'll be in touch." Casururs turned and left.

"Who the pit was that?" Blackangle said. "And how did he get past the guards?"

"Many of the guards know him from the pits of Kaon," Megatron explained. "He was a trainer." He wished again that Soundwave had been here to listen in on Casurus's thoughts. Then he would know whether the mech was being honest or trying to trick him.

Oh well. Casurus didn't seem the type to lie. Perhaps Megatron should move their plans for taking Iacon forward anyway.

He just needed a good opportunity. His mecha couldn't beat Prowl at battle strategy. The only thing that had worked in the past had been removing the Praxian, but how was he going to accomplish that this time?

He had to believe an opportunity would present itself sooner or later. After all, he had something Orion wanted. In order to become a Prime, Orion would need the key to Vector Sigma, and in order to get the key back, they'd need to send someone to Kaon to steal it.

Jazz rode the elevator up. He would have just commed in a report, but he wanted to check on a few things here.

He was a little late for the meeting, but that was all right. It was a good opportunity to make a point.

He waved to mecha as he walked through the base, and threw the doors of the meeting room open to make an entrance.

Everyone stared at him.

"Hey," he said. "What's up, mechs?"

"Jazz," Orion said. "Um… welcome back."

"Thanks," Jazz replied. "Sorry ta barge in, what are we talking about?" He sat down in his usual spot and listened while they went on discussing what they'd been talking over before.

After a few other things were cleared up, he was given the floor. They wanted to know if he'd made any headway on getting the key back.

"First off," he said. "Ya all failed the test."

They stared at him.

"Mainspring, I told ya when I come back ya gotta make sure it's me. What if it wasn't? Ya all just kept talking about high clearance stuff. If I were Makeshift, I'd now have some important info I could send back ta the 'Cons."

"I'm sorry," Mainspring said, looking surprised. "I didn't think about that."

"Ya would be sorry," Jazz said. "If it turned out I was the mechformer."

He got an internal comm. from Mainspring. "Can you verify your comm?"

"Yep, it's me, and I'm here. Given some time and the right equipment, ya can hack that though."

"Last time we met, you gave me a datapad. Is this the same model?"

He held up his datapad.

Jazz looked at it. It seemed a bit larger. He shook his helm. "Nope. Also, yes or no questions aren't good, cuz there's a fifty-fifty chance of guessing right."

Everyone else was watching them. "Well?" Jazz said out loud.

"I'm almost certain this is really Jazz," Mainspring said.

"Thank you," Orion said. "Jazz, is there anything to report about the Key to Vector Sigma?"

"Not much," Jazz said. "I still don't even know if Megs is keeping it with him or if he's got it stored somewhere. If he's got it stored somewhere, all we have ta do is wait until he and Soundwave leave Kaon and then get in there and take it. But if he's got it on him, we'll have ta probably capture him ta get it back, meaning we'd probably have ta somehow overwhelm Soundwave and Megatron, and that'll be trickier."

Orion nodded.

"So yeah, not too much progress."

"Are you sure I can't go?" Orion said. "I'm very busy and I will be for a while, but I'd be able to find where he's got the Key. I can still feel it."

"Nah," Jazz said. "Too dangerous, mech. Like I said, I'll go back there and try again. If we can find out a time where Soundwave's gone, I might maybe consider bringing ya, but only if it was absolutely necessary."

"It may become necessary," Orion said.

Jazz didn't think so, but he didn't say anything else, opting to stay for the rest of the meeting. Afterward, he stopped by his office. He needed to train his department on watching out for Makeshift, but he'd have to get them together first, and he didn't have time for that.

There was a knock at his door and he opened it to let Mainspring in.

"Hey, mech," he said.

"I'm sorry I didn't stop you in the meeting," Mainspring said. "I do normally interview mecha who come back from missions."

"I just barged in, though," Jazz said. "So ya probably didn't want ta interrupt. It's understandable, mech, but ya gotta be more careful than that. Think about it. If I was Makeshift I'd probably try ta bypass normal protocol, distract ya, and all of that. So ya gotta not let that happen."

Mainspring nodded. "How long are you going to be here?"

"Eh, probably ten more breems," Jazz said. "I sent ya a full report. Ya can get Glyph ta decrypt it for ya."

"Thank you," Mainspring said.

"And try and think up some trickier questions for next time," Jazz said.

Mainspring nodded. "All right. I'll go read that report you sent."

Jazz watched him leave, opened a desk drawer, and got out the datapad that had all of his important information stored on it. He spent several breems updating it and then—after making sure the door was locked and no one was coming—he braced himself and deleted some memories, leaving everything but the actual classified information.

His helm throbbed and he shuttered his optics for a few moments and waited for the pain to fade. He really had to find an alternative solution to that. He had some ideas about how to hide memories without deleting them, but it would require time to experiment, and a medic who was willing to break some rules.

If he was ever not so busy…

But for now, he could cope with the pain, and the potential risk of processor damage. He got up and left his office to head to Kaon again. Last time he'd stayed out in the city, but that hadn't been very productive, so he was going to have to do some riskier things this time. He wished the 'Cons hadn't moved to a new base. Jazz didn't have the blueprints for this one, and he didn't know what parts of the building Soundwave was more or less likely to be at any given time.

He'd just have to be extra careful. This was important.