Well, this one is up earlier than I thought it would be… but I have had the flue for the last four days and I just don't like sitting on my aft not doing anything so: whenever sickness has me down, if I am at all able to focus and get my hands on the keyboard, I write. Lucky for all of you, yeah? Though I feel like I should warn you, the following has been written under the influence of a 101° degree fever and copious amounts of flu/cold medications. Read at your own risk. :)
Ratchet was in Prime's office when Jazz reached his destination. Jazz was granted entry almost absently and sauntered in, though his processor continued to sort through his recent encounter with the notorious Decepticon prisoner currently being held in his favorite interrogation cell. The two larger mechs were watching the security feed from the detention area with acute intensity. Neither one looked at him when he walked up to join them at the monitor.
Jazz smiled but without humor. "So, you watched tha whole thing?"
"Indeed." Optimus' deep voice rumbled thoughtfully. "He seemed remarkably compliant."
Jazz nodded, stepping back as the Prime and the CMO turned from the screen to look at him. "Oh, he was. Didn't even fight me at all. And I can tell ya he would have been able to give me a one pit of a fight if he wanted to."
"Oh?" Ratchet's optic ridge quirked. "How so?"
Jazz shrugged as if it were no big deal. "I found evidence of Soundwave's attempts to meddle. He was taking them apart on his own."
Now Ratchet's optics widened, doubtlessly calculating the likelihood such a mech could exist and then the dangers to any mech attempting an interface with such a potentially dangerous individual. "He can counter Soundwave?"
"Apparently. To a degree at least."
Ratchet frowned, clearly coming to the same conclusion Jazz already had. "If that is so, then how do you know that he didn't..."
"That he wasn't doing tha same thing to me?" Jazz finished for the medic with a wave of his hand. "He wasn't. Trust me. I know."
"We do trust you." Optimus mediated as Ratchet seemed about to protest further. "What did you find?"
Jazz finally sighed a long vent of air, looking back at the screen the other two had been studying so attentively. He kept his optics on the image of the prisoner. The Decepticon did not seem to have moved more than his optic shutters. His doorwings were still stiff, splayed behind his back in a neutral posture, his spinal struts ramrod straight, gaze plastered on the ground just in front of the door to the cell.
Now that he took a moment to consider, he was able to see hints of the emotions underpinning the tactician's near absence of the typical body language expressed by Praxian frame types. He could also see the wisps of physical discomfort the Decepticon was in due to the injuries and took a moment to admire Prowl's impressive self-control.
He spoke slowly, not looking away from the monitor. "I learned everything we wanted to know about the 'Cons. As well as a lot of stuff we needed to know about our own forces. It was, after all, his job to analyze our strengths and weaknesses and to exploit them… which he did very well."
He looked up at his Prime. "Now we know where at least some of their intelligence agents are, their identities, as well as all the 'Con's base locations an' security codes. I also know which of our intelligence agents are compromised. And that is just the beginning."
Jazz shook his head, looking back at the monitor. "I tell ya, it was like a high-quality energon mine and he let me pick it clean."
Optimus was silent for a moment, his gaze also landing on the image, considering the enigma Prowl was proving to represent. "Anything else?"
Jazz released another long intake of air. "Yeah." He turned to look at his Prime, his own optics glowing brightly behind his visor. "I think he might be willing to defect."
Optimus' optics widened this time, focusing on his Head of Special Operations. "Did he say that?"
Jazz shook his head. "Not directly, no. But the very reason he let me pick apart his processor was because he knew we'd need that intel ta even have a chance of standing against Megatron in the future. He ran a few interesting statistics about what Meg's change in tactics might mean for Cybertron as a whole. It made him determined to stop Megatron."
"Then why did he not say anything earlier?" Optimus asked.
Jazz shrugged, nodding minutely to the screen. "I'm not a sociologist or psychiatrist, Prime. But I do know, in his processor, the only thing he was expecting was a brutal interrogation and he was still determined to give me what I was looking for – even if he didn't survive the experience. And I can tell ya, he lowered his firewalls for me thinking it might be the last thing he might ever be able to consciously do."
The two larger mechs stared at Jazz in disbelief. Optimus broke the look first, glancing incredulously back at the image of Prowl on the screen. Ratchet did likewise, though he was the first to break the stunned silence.
"Well, this gets more and more interesting. Is he up to my exam?"
Jazz nodded sharply. "He's expecting you."
Ratchet puffed air through his vents. "Very well. Prime, if you'll excuse me?"
Optimus' optics glowed thoughtfully. "I think I shall accompany you. Jazz?"
Jazz hesitated; he had picked up a definite, if well controlled, fear in the captured Decepticon that seemed to be directed toward him. Him or his reputation with interrogations, Jazz was not sure. Either way, he found himself hesitant to add to the stress of the situation by joining the two. Two to one, with one of those being the Prime, was going to be stressful enough.
Yes, it was true, something about the tactician was a puzzle that begged Jazz to investigate. But he knew, especially if the mech chose to accept an offer to defect, that he would get plenty of chances to investigate that puzzle. He would wait.
He let a grin tip his lip plates. "Nah. I'm gonna go check on Smokescreen and the two younglings we recovered."
… … …
Prowl lowered his gaze to the floor just in front of the door to the cell as soon as Jazz left him alone. Despite the fact that his arms were still bound by stasis cuffs and he was still magnetically bound to an interrogation stool, he had to admit that he felt better after the energon hit his tanks. He was surprised to have been given any. Decepticon prisoners were kept on survival rations and he had expected the Autobots to do the same. As his systems were not that deprived yet, he had not anticipated the kindness of a full cube. He would have expected it to be laced with poison, except Jazz had taken a deliberate sip before offering it. Perhaps he had done so to allay that very concern.
Without moving more than his optic shutters, Prowl continued to process what had recently transpired.
Just as he had expected to be denied needed energon, he had also expected a much more brutal interrogation. The Autobot had not even utilized a physical assault to break his mental concentration. However, what he had anticipated the most, especially once he saw Jazz walk into his cell, had not happened. His mind was intact.
From the moment he had seen Jazz, he had dreaded the inevitable interfacial assault that would ravage his processor so thoroughly as to leave him with only tattered shreds of his mind intact.
Instead, the infamous Jazz had only taken the information – albeit every byte of data contained in his processor on the subject – that he had specified an interest in but had left his mind completely whole.
It had been very uncomfortable to say the least, leaving him with a throbbing processor ache, but that was an inescapable side effect of such an interrogation, even when done as gently as possible.
And, after his initial assault Jazz had attempted to go easy, but Prowl himself had pushed him to just get it over with. Despite the pain he knew that would bring, he disliked the feeling of another mind within his own, especially in a one-way connection like that.
It was a conundrum that left him feeling somewhat off kilter, as if his gyroscopic systems were misaligned.
With a tired vent of air he intentionally turned his thoughts to the only other issue that seemed important at the moment: the little gray and blue youngling. He wondered how the sparkling was faring. He had no concern that the youngling would be mistreated, but he could not help but worry about him.
He released his heated intake, doorwings drooping ever so slightly. Only to straighten as the door opened again. Prowl looked up to see the Autobot CMO, as expected, walk in. The chartreuse medic was followed closely by the regal form of Optimus Prime.
Prowl's optics widened in surprise before he regained control, not willing to give them more of an advantage than they already had.
Without a word, Ratchet stepped forward and Prowl felt sensory energy wash over his frame in a more detailed scan than had been conducted before. Once the scan was completed, the medic moved forward, hands reaching for Prowl's damaged shoulder.
The Praxian tensed, but did not try to evade the medic, too well trained by Megatron that doing so would only garner more wrath and, accordingly, more discomfort. He half expected those hands to begin ripping and rending.
Prowl grunted as the CMO began working on the damage, the pressure on his sensory grid was distinctly painful, though not destructive. Prowl was used to suffering such repairs without pain relief and so did nothing but endure it, doing nothing that the two Autobots might have expected. He made no attempt to avoid the hands causing the increased discomfort. He made no verbal retort or angry tirade. He offered no pleas for mercy.
He just accepted what was done to him with silent resignation. Just as Jazz had described.
While Ratchet continued to work, Optimus finally broke the tense silence. "What are your expectations as to what happens now, Decepticon Prowl?"
Prowl almost winced at the title, thinking about the destruction of Praxus. "I am your prisoner. I have no other expectations."
Both Autobots blinked their optic shutters, exchanging a brief look at the calm, even statement.
Optimus Prime returned his attention to Prowl. "Jazz mentioned you had an interest in ensuring Megatron is stopped."
"If he continues down this path unchecked, the consequences for Cybertron will be devastating." Prowl stiffened as Ratchet moved to his back, immobilizing his doorwings for the repairs to the damaged one.
The Prime's gaze was unfathomable, his brilliant azure optics intense. "You understand it is difficult not to be suspicious of suddenly having the Decepticon's lead tactician show up wanting to defeat Megatron."
Prowl considered this, hiding a wince as Ratchet did something to his doorwing. "You are right to be suspicious."
"I also find it suspicious that you were at Praxus when the city was attacked." It was said blandly, but also with a hint of warning.
Prowl had the distinct impression the large blue and red mech would know if he attempted to lie even without a direct interface connection. It was a little unsettling while, at the same time, strangely reassuring.
This close to the Lord Protector's brother, Prowl would be hard pressed to call the Prime 'weak,' 'pathetic,' or 'soft-sparked' as Megatron was often wont to do. Having never met Optimus Prime in person prior to their brief encounter in the hanger when he had first arrived in Iacon, Prowl was impressed with the quiet strength and sense of purpose that radiated off the large mech.
Whatever Prowl might have anticipated, he found that it was easy to respect the Prime, though he was not entirely sure why. Or why he felt a compulsion to trust a mech who doubtlessly saw him as an enemy. It was confusing, but something told Prowl he would have to focus on the moment and figure the mystery out at a later date. If he had the opportunity.
Even so, he had learned to trust his instincts. He spoke the truth, without any real hope he would be believed. "I believe now that my presence in Praxus during the attack was intentional, based on what the Air Commander told me after the attack was launched."
A tiny frown touched the Prime's lip plates. "What did Starscream say?"
Prowl released a short vent of air, half at what he was about to say and half because the fire that had been radiating from his doorwing since the building had fallen on him suddenly disappeared. "He said it was too bad because I was Praxian and that no Praxian was to be left alive."
Bright blue optics narrowed and Prowl suddenly had to suppress a shudder. "You claim Megatron sent you into Praxus to kill you?"
"That is the most likely scenario I have been able to postulate."
Prowl watched as a rapid series of emotions flick through the Prime's optics. "If that is so, it would seem he does not value your life very highly."
Ratchet had moved on to work on Prowl's right knee joint, but Prowl was careful to keep his gaze on Optimus. He spoke softly, fighting to keep sudden bitterness out of his voice. "Sir, Megatron holds very little value for any life other than his own."
Optimus straightened almost imperceptibly and Prowl had the feeling something he had said had offended the larger mech. "Why did you become a Decepticon then?"
Prowl hesitated at that. If he had offended the Prime by simply pointing out Megatron's low value of life, how honest could he safely be? Yet as those intense blue optics continued to bore into him Prowl found he did not want to lie. Not now, not again.
Besides, he doubted Ratchet was there just to patch him up. No. This was part of his interrogation and he strongly suspected that whatever he said would probably be either confirmed or refuted by yet another processor scan.
Very well, he would speak honestly. If the Prime was inclined to take out personal offense in violent retribution against the offender, then so be it. He vented air. "A prolonged war would have devastating effects on Cybertron. With the Militia and the Seekers aligning with Megatron the statistical probability indicated that he would be in a better position to win the war quickly and thus rapidly put an end to hostility, thereby preserving the existence of our race."
He looked down slightly, his gaze focusing on the Prime's flame-painted chassis, rather than his optics. "I joined the Decepticons because I knew my ability with tactical planning would even more greatly increase those odds and thereby bring an even quicker end to the conflict and thus spare as many innocents as possible."
"Megatron is not interested in sparing innocent lives." Disapointment made the Prime's voice harsh.
Prowl looked down at his lap in time to see Ratchet finish welding a cracked baring in the joint. He felt exposed in the presence of the Matrix Bearer. "That point has been made abundantly clear in a very painful manner, Prime."
"Yes. I imagine so." Prowl had expected a harsh retort for speaking so boldly, not to hear the Prime's voice soften with compassion.
He glanced up with surprise only to have the Prime snag his gaze with his own. "If you were given the opportunity to assist in putting a stop to Megatron's forces, what would you do?"
Prowl could only stare for a long moment, trying to make the question make sense. He straightened as Ratchet stood, stepping beside his leader. "You mean defect?"
Optimus nodded.
Prowl considered the Prime carefully, trying to determine if it was a sincere offer or a trap of some kind. However, strength along with sincerity continued to radiate off the towering Autobot. It was a compelling combination. He spoke cautiously. "That is a very dangerous offer for you to make, Prime. If I were still loyal to Megatron…"
"What if you were given the choice?" Optimus cut him off.
Prowl muted his vocalizer and took a moment to seriously consider the question, finding he wanted to believe the Prime. He still was not sure it was safe to trust the implied offer the Prime had just made. He knew they would never fully trust him: how could they?
But he had already decided to take any opportunity he might have to defeat Megatron. He had expected his interrogation to be the extent of that opportunity. He spoke hesitantly.
"If you can prove to your satisfaction that I am no threat to you or the Autobot cause, then I will assist in whatever capacity you allow."
The Prime kept his gaze, nodding. "It will not be easy, proving to us you are honest and sincere in changing your allegiance. Some may never trust you completely. Your existence among us will probably not be pleasant, at least at first."
It was a blunt statement, but not one Prowl could logically argue with. He nodded.
Taking that as a cue, Ratchet stepped toward him again. "Very well. I will also be conducting a deep processor scan. However, whereas Jazz was specifically looking for information about Decepticons, I will be examining you personally: your character, ethics and motivations. Unlike Jazz's scan, you do have a choice in whether or not you submit to this one. However, failure to submit will be seen as a refusal to defect and you will be treated accordingly. The choice is yours."
Prowl tensed again, though it was only visible in the slight stiffening of his doorwings. So, this would be the scan that would leave him completely without secrets. It was humiliating to consider voluntarily submitting to such a thing. It was clear to him however that if he wanted to help defeat Megatron he had no other option.
But could he blame them?
If he were honest with himself, the answer was no.
Keeping his primary goal foremost in his processor he focused again on the CMO. "Such a precaution is only logical."
Ratchet blinked, as if taken slightly off guard. "You are agreeing to undergo this deep processor scan of your own free will?"
It was said with the tenor and cadence of something being stated for a legal record. Prowl answered in a similarly formal manner. "Yes, I am."
Ratchet nodded, looking up at his leader. Optimus indicated he should continue and Prowl hesitated just a moment as Ratchet turned back to him. Then, with an astrosecond's additional hesitation, he slid the panel covering his dataport aside.
He agreed to do this, after all.
The medic connected, synching with his systems. Prowl's firewalls came up automatically. Resolutely, the tactician lowered them again, catching a hint of the CMO's surprise in the process.
"Jazz was not exaggerating. Those are impressive firewalls."
Prowl averted his gaze, the feeling of another mind inside his making his tanks churn slightly. "A necessity when dealing with Soundwave and, for someone in my position, should I ever be captured by enemies."
Ratchet eyed him. "Of course."
Ratchet, apparently, was not one for smalltalk as he got right down to business after that. Thankfully, he wasted no time in launching into his scan. First he searched Prowl's recent memories, his mission to Praxus and the assault itself. Every emotion and thought was examined and scrutinized.
Once that was accomplished, Ratchet plunged deeper, examining his motivations for joining the Decepticons, his internal reactions to Megatron's increasingly violent and insane orders. Every thought, every intention he dared not let Soundwave catch wind of were expertly reviewed, studied and noted.
Prowl kept his gaze lowered as his spark was all but laid bare before the Autobot CMO's relentless probe. It was, indeed, just as humiliating as he had anticipated and made the dull ache in his processor grow into a splitting, pounding pain. But he did not resist. Nor did he complain. He simply endured because he had no other option. He had agreed to this.
Then it was over. To his surprise, as Ratchet pulled his cable out of the port, he inserted a pain chip.
Relief spread through Prowl's systems, easing the physical aches as well as reducing the pain in his processor to something almost negligible.
Still burning in his humiliation however, Prowl did not meet the medic's gaze. "Thank you, sir."
Ratchet nodded and looked up at his leader. Prowl knew they were communicating with each other, so he silently waited for the Prime's verdict.
After a long moment Optimus stepped forward, the CMO stepping back slightly. "Based on the report Ratchet just made, I am prepared to move forward with integrating you into our forces, on a probationary status."
Prowl looked up, surprised and saw there was more that the towering blue and red mech had yet to say. "What are the conditions?"
Prime spoke slowly, as if gauging Prowl's response. "We have never had a Decepticon of your rank defect before, so the conditions we place on you will have to be appropriately more severe."
Prowl nodded. He had expected nothing less. Actually, he had not even expected to be given this opportunity at all.
The Prime continued. "You will wear a tracking device until you are past the second stage of your probation. You will also submit to the installation of tracer coding that will have a predetermined life-span and will alert security and Ratchet, as well as knock you into stasis, if you plot against us. Also, for the length of your probation, you will submit to processor scans by either Intelligence or Medical should we deem it necessary."
Prowl nodded his understanding in the slight pause and the larger mech continued. "To begin with, your movements will be highly restricted, but those restrictions will be reduced as trust is earned."
Ratchet took up the explanation. "Probationary periods have three stages each of indeterminate length. The first stage is assessment and training as it is necessary. This is to see how well you will adapt to our protocols and regulations. It also gives us a chance to see where you would best integrate.
"The second stage is to send you on routine patrol and scouting missions. While that might not be where you ultimately end up, it is always good to get an idea of what is going on on the ground.
"The third stage is where we place you in the function where you would be the best fit. At the most junior level, of course. This stage is the longest and, to be perfectly blunt, there have been some who have never even made it to this stage, others who never make it past it."
Prowl nodded again, impressed with the precautions and lengths the Autobots were willing to take. Quickly, he considered his options. He had no way of knowing how the process they were going to put him through differed for other, lower ranking Decepticon defectors, but knowing the Decepticons as he did, he could not blame them for the precautions. As the Prime had warned, it did not sound pleasant, but at least it would allow him to still serve Cybertron, to try and preserve its future. To defeat the former Lord Protector.
The two Autobots gave him time to think and actually seemed pleased that he was taking the time to truly consider all the implications associated with his limited set of options.
At length, Prowl looked up, meeting the Prime's gaze. "Your terms are agreed to. With two modifications."
Optimus' optics widened with surprise while Ratchet seemed incised. "You are in no position to make demands!" He snapped.
Prowl warily glanced at the medic before looking back up at the Prime. "First, leave whatever tracking device you utilize in place until the conclusion of my entire probationary period."
He saw their surprise and hastened to explain. "If I were a potential sleeper agent or spy, the third stage is the logical time to act. Therefore leaving the tracking module on until you are totally satisfied with my loyalty and performance is the safest option for you. Second, leave the tracer coding in place. If I am a sleeper, it might be needed far beyond the expected end of the probationary period."
It was not that he thought he might be a sleeper agent, but the point of Soundwave's manipulation, was that sleeper agents had no idea they were sleeper agents. The only real fear he had in accepting the Autobots' offer was that, despite his own carefully crafted programs somehow Soundwave had managed to get something implanted.
Both of the Autobots seemed stunned, if their blank stares were any indication. The Prime recovered first, nodding slightly. "Very well. I will take your recommendations into consideration. For now, Ratchet will take you to the med bay for the necessary installations."
It was not an agreement, but it was clearly as close as he would get. Prowl nodded. "Understood sir."
Ratchet acknowledged his leader's slight gesture and a moment later the magnetic lock restraining Prowl to the chair released. Then the medic reached for the stasis cuffs binding his wrists. They were deactivated and removed.
Prowl resisted the urge to swing his arms to limber them up and settled for simply easing them into a more natural position. Seeing that neither Autobot reacted negatively to his motions, he stood slowly. His frame protested, hydraulics hissing, having started to seize from the long period of inactivity as lubricants settled in his joints.
All of this was observed in silence. Then, finally, Ratchet motioned Prowl out the door of the interrogation cell. "Well, let's stop wasting time. Come with me."
Well, I hope that made as much sense and flowed as well in real life as it did in my fevered and medicated mind. Once I'm back to normal, I'll revisit it if needed and make any changes necessary, if any. Let me know, either way. (ie: please leave a review.)
