Warning: One actual cuss word… but, given the context, it's not that much of a surprise.
According to the tablet Prowl had been given on Autobot protocols, patrols were organized into two to three-orn long cycles. While he had been given energon, including rations for the patrol itself, before they had left, it was not enough to completely fill his tanks, let alone last the entire length of the patrol. At full rations any way, which meant they intended to keep him at approximately half-rations as they had been since his arrival. He would have to be judicious about when he consumed his energon or he would risk being dangerously low if they ran into any problems.
The Twins did not seem to have that issue.
Prowl was tempted to feel resentment, but knew that would be illogical and highly counterproductive not just to the mission but also to his chances of surviving it. He was still not trusted, hence limiting his fuel rations was a universally acceptable way of limiting his movements and decreasing the likelihood he would cause trouble because to do so would endanger his very existence.
Thus he did not respond – or even allow himself to appear in any way affected – as the Twins mocked and harassed him while they imbibed far more energon than they strictly required. It was a cycle that repeated every time they decided to take another, wholly unnecessary, two or three breem break.
It was getting repetitive and was rather irritating, and Prowl knew it was intentionally so. It was in the Twins' nature to do something so…demeaning and so it was not worth commenting on, let alone responding to.
Not that Prowl's lack of response discouraged them in any way. If anything, it seemed to make them bolder. Prowl had no other option however.
Like now.
It was near the end of their first orn out on patrol and the Twins had stopped for the seventh time. Prowl stood at a stiff parade rest, keeping his sensors and most of his attention focused on the surrounding area seeing as the Twins were not doing much in that regard as they lounged laxly.
They were moving further into a sector that showed evidence of increased Decepticon activity and it was the height of irresponsibility that neither Sunstreaker nor Sideswipe were taking it more seriously. The risks of running into an ambush increased with every klick traveled.
Using what he knew of Decepticon tactics, combined with the quickly accumulating data his sensors were proving and what he knew of the area, Prowl's battle and tactical computers were gradually piecing together a picture that was not encouraging.
They were heading into a trap. A trap that could exist an any of several points along their intended route.
He glanced at his two 'teammates.'
"What's wrong Prowlie?" Sideswipe crowed, noticing they had his attention again. "Your tanks a little low?" The last word was said with a theatric deepening of the mech's voice.
Prowl released a vent, rapidly counting to two thousand in his processor to keep from saying something he should not.
"Cybercat got your glossa?" Sunstreaker sneered. "You keep ignoring us and we'll take offence."
"Yeah, and you wouldn't want that would you." Sideswipe finished.
Gritting his own denta Prowl focused on the mission and his duty. Like it or not, these two narcissistic, immature, reckless, pit-spawn were in charge of this patrol. He answered to them and that was a very, very difficult chip to integrate "I believe there is a high probability that we are heading into a trap. Perhaps we should utilize a higher degree of stealth for the remainder of our mission."
"I think he's scared." Sideswipe piped up after a moment. "Look at that, he's all but trembling in his armor."
"Tacticians aren't any good in a firefight." Sunstreaker flicked a hand derisively.
Prowl huffed, releasing a long, over heated intake of air as he tried to cool his systems. With a low rev of his engine he turned his gaze away from the annoying duo. At this rate, they were going to get themselves killed and probably take him with them.
It was obvious they were not truly interested in fulfilling their mission; to discover if there was any Decepticon activity and then to determine what it was. No, they were more interested in harassing him, as if that alone was their mission. He was not going to let himself be so distracted, however. If his former faction was up to something, he fully intended to discover what.
A small piece of metal debris plinked off his armor.
Prowl's hands curled into a fist and he swung his gaze back to the offending Sideswipe. "Oooh, did I scratch your paint?"
"Who cares." Sunstreaker took another long swig of energon. "Worst, most boring color scheme I've ever seen."
"Except Megatron." Sideswipe pointed out.
"Yeah, except him." Sunstreaker conceded after a moment's thought. "His is the dullest, most lifeless gray ever. Ugh."
They continued their inane bantering and Prowl went back to his calculations and planning.
Having not been given preliminary data on their patrol sector, Prowl had to base his strategic planning on his personal knowledge of the location, his familiarity of the Decepticons and what his sensors were currently telling him. It was not a complete tactical picture, but it was better than nothing. It was better than barreling into an ambush without a clue.
Which is what his battle computer screamed at him that the Twins were doing, so wrapped up in their juvenile games and tauntings.
When they finally decided it was time to move on, he followed dutifully in his place at the rear of their inverted triangle-shaped formation, with the Twins parallel in the lead. Again, his attempts to warn of an impending ambush were rebuffed.
They quickly passed the first possible site of said trap and, when it did not materialize, Prowl recalculated. That increased the probability that one of the other possible locations would be it. He warned them again, and again his warning was blown off. Sideswipe even made an inane comment about how that sounded like 'fun.'
The fourth time he was ignored completely and the two frontliners only gunned their engines, accelerating to a speed beyond reckless in the situation. Prowl growled lowly to himself and increased his own speed, though just enough to keep them on the edge of optical sensor range.
As it was clear the Twins were going to ignore his warning, his battle and tactical computers had produced another approach. It was an approach that depended on him not getting caught in the ambush. Thus he fell back, breaking from his place in the formation.
As he struggled desperately to find a way to ensure that not only he, but the Twins as well survived this orn, he remembered Optimus' unusual briefing. Then he hesitated for just a sparkbeat. While at the moment he did not really care if the Twins were sent to the Well of AllSparks, he did not really want even their deaths on his conscience. Not to mention Ratchet's threat rang in his audios.
Accessing his long-range communications systems he sent a tight comm. to the two mechs he knew were tailing them. /Hound, Springer. This is Prowl./
/Why the pit are you talking to us, 'Con?/ It was Hound.
Prowl ignored the challenge and distrust that was clear in the other's transmission and gave his report. /There is an 89.76% chance that Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are heading directly into a trap. They are refusing to be cautious in their approach./
Springer's dismissive laugh echoed over the signal. /Yeah, well, 'cautious' isn't their style./
/So I have noticed./ Prowl drew in another vent of air. /Depending on the severity of the ambush, we might be in need of your assistance./
/If they need us, we'll be there./
Prowl did not miss that support was being offered to the Twins but not to him. Regardless, he compressed his calculations on the three most likely scenarios his tactical computer had calculated, along with various options for their deployment in conjunction with his own.
/Acknowledged. These are the most likely attack patterns I predict the Decepticons will take, along with some recommended courses of counter attack./ He released the vent of air surprised at how difficult it was to utter his next transmission. /Just let me know what you wish to do and I will follow orders./
/And why should we believe you, 'Con?/ Springer demanded heatedly, as if the mere idea was insulting.
It felt like a slap across the faceplate, reminding Prowl where he truly stood among the Autobots. He had to accelerate again to keep up with the Twins as they swung around a curve in the street.
With another sigh of air he reactivated his comm. /Very well. While I understand you have no cause to trust me, please at least review the information and make your own judgment and not dismiss it entirely just because of its origin./
Before either Autobot could respond, the distinct sound of energy weapon's fire reached Prowl's audios. Reacting instinctively, he cut the connection so he could focus. "Slag!"
The Praxian put on a burst of speed and rounded the corner the Twins had just disappeared behind. It was not at the top of the list of probable ambush sites, but it was close. Number two, actually. Cautiously, Prowl transformed without slowing, using the momentum to carry him behind the cover of a long dilapidated building.
He pulled his riffle out of subspace, flaring his doorwings to bring in every scrap of available data. Almost in the background, his tactical computer filtered, analyzed and prioritized everything that came in. He found the Twins, pinned down in the shallow basin created by the debris of a collapsed building.
Because of the way the metal husk of the structure was shaped, there was only one entrance accessible via alternate mode. Every other exit required transformation into base mode and the need to climb over unstable footing all the while leaving one exposed to enemy fire. It was an excellent place for an ambush. A perfect place to be killed. A stupid trick to fall for.
He silently cursed at the Twins, refocusing on them. Sunstreaker's golden frame was prone on the ground, unmoving. Sideswipe stood protectively over his brother, using his own body to physically shield him.
Quickly Prowl transmitted the data he had already collected back to Hound and Springer. Then he crept forward, using sensors and optics to look for the enemies' position. Identifying them relatively quickly, thanks to the sheer volume of plasma fire lancing at the two damaged frontliners, Prowl took aim with his own rifle.
His aim was true, but the acid pellet only struck a piece of armor, not the vulnerable armor seam he had aimed for. Yes, the Decepticon screamed in pain, but he was not offlined. It was a mere fact of physics that physical projectiles were not as accurate over longer distances as plasma weapons. Of course, the trade off was that acid did not need to be as accurate to be effective.
Shifting position, he took aim at another Decepticon and fired again. This one was closer and the shot was doubtlessly fatal as he dropped behind a metal beam.
Unfortunately, his actions only served to alert the Decepticons that they had yet another target. Within moments the metal debris he had taken shelter behind was being eaten away by overheated plasma. He grunted as a blast caught his left doorwing, sending searing hot pain across his neural grid.
With a barely breathed curse, Prowl cut pain sensors to the damaged doorwing and broke cover and dashed to the two Autobots in the center of the clearing. He joined Sideswipe, sanding on Sunstreaker's other side, to shield the golden Twin from enemy fire.
"How kind of you to join us." Sideswipe growled darkly.
"I apologize for the delay." Prowl did not bother to keep the touch of cynicism out of his voice, firing at another enemy mech who strayed too far from cover. Then he hissed as another blast of energy glanced off his chassis armor only seconds before his right leg was also scored.
"However, I figured that if you two were going to plow helm-first into an ambush, at least one of us should be far enough behind to get the lay of the enemy positions." Prowl continued in a forcibly calm voice, completely at odds with the situation.
"If you knew it was a trap, why didn't you stop us?" Sideswipe demanded hotly. "Hoping your friends would finish us off?"
Prowl grunted, his engine revving irritably, though he deemed it a waste of time they did not have to argue the point that he had warned them. Repeatedly.
Just then more blaster fire erupted, only this time it was not aimed at them, but at the Decepticons. Hound and Springer had arrived.
With a feral smile that barely made it to his faceplate, Prowl looked at the frontliner and databurst him the enemies' locations. "This is where they are, this is where our back up is. Do you have ranged weapons?"
"I don't like guns. To impersonal. I like my knives." Sideswipe transformed an arm to demonstrate.
Prowl hastily made additional calculations even as he targeted yet another Decepticon. "And I take it you will not trust me to stand guard over Sunstreaker so you may put those blades to use?"
"Not till after the pit rusts over." Sideswipe spit.
Prowl gave a short, single bitter laugh at the irony. They were still standing back to back, Sunstreaker between them. Prowl fired again, taking out yet another Decepticon. He was still taking damage as well, but it was nothing compared to the Twins, especially Sunstreaker.
Prowl's battle computer was running wildly, trying to find a solution that would still give them victory. Just as it was almost there, Hound's transmission interrupted. /We can't get all of them, there are too many…/
The calculations finished, the solution was at hand. Prowl cut off the green scout. /Yes we can./ He transmitted the file to all three conscious mechs.
It gave them a 92.36% chance of victory, with acceptable damages to their side.
Behind him, Sideswipe growled, all levity gone from his voice. "We didn't ask for your input."
"I am a tactician. This is what I do." Prowl both said and transmitted to the two who could not hear him.
"You are a Decepticon." Sideswipe countered. "This is just as likely to get us all dead as it is to end in victory."
Prowl growled, instilling the noise with a surprising amount of frustration and anger. "Why would I put myself in danger if I was one of them?" It was as much demand as it was a question.
"They won't hurt one of their own." Sideswipe said with such conviction, it made Prowl pause momentarily.
Then he growled again, more forcefully, taking out his growing frustration and anger on a convenient Decepticon who strayed too far from cover. "I've already sustained damage."
"Nothing major!" Sideswipe snapped back. "You even left Sunny and I to take fire alone."
Prowl snapped his denta closed, muting his vocalizer so harshly it emitted static and actually sparked slightly. The silver mech was right about one thing. He was not seriously damaged… nothing immediately life-threatening at least.
Another blast pierced his doorwing and, even with his pain grid off, that blow dropped him to his knees. Damaged to the point where sensory feed was completely disrupted, giving him only hints of data that was slightly out of synch with everything else, Prowl felt partly blind; fuzzy.
He took out the Decepticon responsible for delivering the injury and almost spit into the comm. line. /If we are going to act, we need to do so within the next few astroseconds./
Hound's voice came back almost immediately. /No. It's too risky. We have more Con signals on our sensors. We have to get Sunstreaker out of there./
Prowl growled again, but kept his earlier word to follow orders and glanced over his shoulder at Sideswipe. "Go, I'll cover you."
Prowl pointed to where Hound and Springer were concealed.
Sideswipe snarled something inarticulate at him, but nevertheless grabbed his twin and hauled his golden half out of the kill-box. Prowl followed closely, keeping up a steady barrage of fire to help shield their retreat.
Once they reached Hound and Springer's location, the two completely uninjured Autobots immediately took Sunstreaker between them and took off, as quickly as they could. Sideswipe glanced at Prowl, sneered again and took off after the mechs carrying his brother.
With a sigh, Prowl followed.
… … …
They had found a secluded nook tucked inside the ruins of yet another dilapidated building. It was the first semi-suitable location where Springer could attempt to stabilize Sunstreaker for transport back to Iacon. But Prowl was not happy. It was far too close to the enemy's location, it was far too easy to find and it was far too indefensible.
He watched Springer work, Sideswipe kneeling anxiously on his brother's other side, lending a hand whenever he could. Hound stood next to Prowl, likewise watching the field repairs.
Prowl did not like the confined space, the inability to detect anyone's approach from inside and his own sensory fuzziness because of his damage.
He looked at Hound, speaking quietly so as not to distract Springer. "Where were the other Decepticon signals coming from?"
Hound pointed. "Twenty klicks that way, from the borderland plains. There were ten of them."
Prowl nodded, adding that information into his calculations. "They are up to something. This is dangerously close to Iacon."
Hound nodded, clearly just as unhappy.
Prowl checked his weapon, ensuring its power source was fully charged. He paused the movements of the standard weapon's check when he noticed Hound tense uneasily at them. He released a vent and lowered the weapon, looking back at the injured Twins. His tactical computer kept throwing warnings across his CPU about the fact that their hiding place was in imminent danger of being overrun.
"We can't stay here." He said out loud, once he had calculated the most likely timeframe for when the Decepticons would discover their location.
Hound turned a hot glare at him. "We can't move 'till Sunny is stable or we could kill him."
"If we stay, we could all die." Prowl's engine growled, which attracted the brief attention of the two mechs working on Sunstreaker.
"You are a cold-sparked bastard." Hound bit out.
Doorwings twitching at the insult, Prowl turned to his next priority. "If we are going to stay, we might as well continue the mission."
With that, he turned and started to walk out of their hideout. Hound stopped him with a green hand on his arm. "Where the pit do you think you're going?"
Prowl gave him a perfectly neutral look, though it took quite a bit of effort to maintain that neutrality. "Our mission was to find out what is going on, what the Decepticon troop movements are if any in this sector." He pointed back towards the ambush site. "Clearly there is Decepticon activity. We have yet to determine its significance."
The hand tightened on his arm. "We can't risk Sunny…"
"I am not risking Sunstreaker." Prowl cut him off. "I am risking myself. But Iacon Command needs as much information as we can provide them."
Hound, to his credit considered those words seriously. Then he looked at their make-shift medic. "Springer, how long?"
Springer did not even bother to glance up at the address. "At least half a joor."
Prowl frowned, they did not have that long. His calculations showed that they would be overridden about five breems before half a joor was up. If all of them were in this alcove when that happened it would be a death trap.
But Hound was looking at him again. "If you aren't back by then, we will assume you have betrayed us and consider you an enemy."
Prowl smirked slightly, though it was not pleasant. "An assumption you have already made." He hesitated momentarily, expression falling back into an emotionless mask. "This location will be found before half a joor is up."
Hound's expression hardened. "You don't know that."
"Yes, I do." Prowl's gaze was intense, willing the green scout to believe him.
Hound actually paused before speaking, clearly considering Prowl's warning. "Yet you will leave anyway, leaving us that much more undefended?"
"There is no defense in here." Prowl had to stop himself from growling. "And if we are all going to go down, one of us should at least attempt to complete the mission and report the intel back to base."
He took another step, pulling out of Hound's grip, then looked back, his optics blazing. "There is still a way for all of us to get out of this alive – and complete our mission. I am going to see that it happens, regardless of the fact that none of you think you can trust me."
Without giving any of them a chance to respond he transformed and drove off.
Springer was staring at the retreating mech. "That was downright scary."
Hound huffed, turning his back on the Decepticon defector to look at the others on his team. "I don't think we can trust him. He may lead them right to us."
Sideswipe made a face at that, then seemed to deflate. "Look, I'm no fan of the mech or anything, but he did help me cover Sunny. And he took damage doing so, even if it wasn't that bad."
Hound thought for a moment, then shrugged though his optics remained serious. "We will just have to wait and see."
… … …
Prowl was fairly confident he knew when the Decepticons would find the hidden Autobots and accordingly calculated the best way to get done what needed to be done with time to return and help defend them. Unfortunately, it made him a little uneasy.
As stealthily as possible – which was aided by the fact he still had a Decepticon ID signal – he returned to the ambush site. This time, however, he did not blunder into the kill box, but made his way around the outskirts until he came upon the position of some of the Decepticons he had taken out during the firefight.
Most of the frames were already grayed and lifeless. However, he did find one that was not completely gone to the Well of AllSparks.
Dim, ruby optics flickered up at him. "Just finish it." The mech rasped out.
Prowl knelt next to the mortally wounded Decepticon. "If that is your wish. However, I need something first."
"Go to pit." The red optics brightened slightly, struggling to focus and the mech flinched away. "You… you're a traitor!"
"Not true. Megatron betrayed Cybertron." He reached for the damaged mech's data port. "I will not waste your time or mine."
With that he plugged his chord into the Decepticon, prepared for a mental attack. But the mech was so badly damaged that there was no defense to speak of. It did not take long for Prowl to get the information he needed and he ignored everything else. As much as he did not enjoy the feeling of another mind in his, he disliked being the foreign mind even more.
By the time he withdrew his cord, his tanks felt like they were going to purge, though it was not a physical discomfort.
"You just going to leave me here to suffer?" The mech rasped, the anger in his weak voice something Prowl well understood.
Prowl considered him. "Decepticon medics do not use their time on mechs as badly damaged as you and we have no medics on our team, let alone any with the skill to save your life."
"Tell me something I don't know." The words were probably intended to be sharp and biting but were little more than a haggard whisper. "Just put me out of my misery."
For a long sparkbeat Prowl raised his weapon, taking aim, but he could not pull the trigger. If he were in the mech's position… the haunting echoes of the other's suffering, which he had felt during the hack flicked across his processor… he would also wish for a swift end.
But he knew, unequivocally, shooting the Decepticon was wrong.
With a huff of air through his vents, he lowered his weapon and knelt again, reaching for the primary neural controls at the base of the damaged mech's neck. "I will not murder you, but I can ease your passing in to the Well."
With movements that were not quite as deft as a medic's, Prowl slipped the mortally wounded Decepticon into stasis. It would not prevent his death, there was nothing Prowl could do to save him, but it would prevent him from feeling the pain associated with it. Even knowing it was the greatest mercy he could provide, Prowl still felt his tanks churn.
Once those red optics darkened into stasis, Prowl stood. He looked around, but it was just for his own safety. He had what he needed and it was time to return to the others.
… … …
The sound of weapon's fire as Prowl neared the Autobot's refuge site spurred the Praxian to drive even faster. They had been discovered earlier than he had anticipated. Prowl rounded the last corner and slowed, transforming to take in the situation. He counted four Autobot signals from inside the structure, two Decepticons also inside and then the two outside.
His battle computer raced as it developed a strategy. He knew he had to take care of the two outside before he could deal with those inside and had to hope the others could hold their own until he could get to them.
Opting for stealth, Prowl subspaced his rifle and pulled his energon daggers out of their sheaths. Moving with the grace and soundlessness it had taken decavorns to perfect, and with the elegant deadliness of a highly trained fighter very few individuals were allowed to observe, Prowl was on top of the two unsuspecting Decepticons before they even knew they were in danger.
A swift stroke to one, slicing through his armor to sever the major energon feed to his processor had one mech dropping to the ground in a near soundless heap. Flowing from that attack directly into a strike that plunged his dagger hilt deep into the second Decepticon's spark chamber, Prowl was already moving into the building.
Unfortunately the Decepticon he came accross somehow managed to block his first strike. Prowl traded blows briefly before getting the opening he needed and the third Decepticon joined the other two in the Well of AllSparks.
Their scuffle, brief as it had been, was enough to alert the final Decepticon to his presence. Disregarding any attempt at stealth now, Prowl retracted his daggers and aimed his rifle.
Orange plasma grazed his shoulder and Prowl threw himself to the side, instincts bringing his own weapon up to sight on the enemy. Taking a fraction of an astrosecond to confirm his target, Prowl fired. Though the mech went down under the barrage of potent acid, it did nothing to stop the shot he had managed to fire before he was felled from striking Prowl, searing through the wiring of his left leg.
Rerouting the neural impulses and shutting down what pain receptors he was able, Prowl straightened. He made his way to where the others were still waiting. Thankfully, he still detected four spark signatures. All Autobot.
… … …
Hound, Springer and Sideswipe exchanged confused and startled glances as the barrage of enemy fire suddenly lifted, leaving an almost eerie silence screaming in their ears. Except that it was not truly silent.
Almost distantly, they could hear the sound of metal striking metal. But that only lasted mere astroseconds before more weapons' fire filled in the void. Then, almost before they could register the sounds, it was again silent.
"What the…?" Sideswipe breathed, one hand splayed over his lacerated and scorched plating, attempting to stem the loss of energon until his repair systems could reroute the flow.
Surprisingly quiet pede falls heralded the victor of the mystery fight' approach. A familiar silhouette soon framed the opening, red optics glowing brightly in the deepening darkness of night.
Springer hefted his weapon slightly, shifting to better cover Sunstreaker's prone frame. "Okay. Not the back up we asked HQ for."
To the surprise of all three, however, Prowl subspaced his rifle, holding his hands up non-threateningly.
"Is anyone injured?" The question was asked so blandly that it was almost infuriating.
"No slag genius!" Sideswipe bit out. "Where have you been?"
The Praxian gave no visible reaction to the frontliner's rudeness. "Completing our mission and saving your afts, apparently. Again."
"Really?" There was no disguising the open suspicion in the silver warrior's voice as he stepped around Hound to glare optic to optic with Prowl. "Or was this something you set up so we'd trust you?"
Prowl could only stare at Sideswipe for a long moment. "You believe that?"
Hound put a restraining hand on the impetuous Twin's shoulder. "We aren't sure what to believe. You understand?"
Prowl's hard, cold stare was evidence he did not understand. Springer hastened to clarify, not liking the way the 'Con was clenching his hands. "Somehow you knew about the ambush. You knew they'd find us here… yet you arrive just in time at both to save the orn? What are we supposed to think?"
Engine revving before he could stop it, Prowl struggled silently for a long moment to tamp down the frustration he was feeling, knowing it could get him killed. "That I know how to do my function." His voice was tight, biting and curt. "I am a tactician. That means I figure stuff like that out."
Hound shook his helm, shrugging in an almost helpless manner. "Smoky's never been able to predict things that accurately. Nor is he able to come up with ways of counter attacking the 'Cons that quickly."
Prowl's engine growled and he forced himself to step backwards slightly, continuing to signal that he was not a threat. "That does not mean I am on their side.
Hound followed his short retreat with a mirroring step forward; it was a deliberate move, a silent positioning of himself as the commander of their group. "Maybe." The green scout conceded. "But it just seems a little too good to be true, you know? You can't deny it's suspicious… at least from our point of view."
Acquiescing to the position Hound's posturing had put him in, Prowl forced himself to consider that statement. He was reminded that these were front line warriors who had no experience with any other tactician besides Smokescreen. And he had been, until very recently, a Decepticon whom they had every reason to distrust. As much as he did not want to admit it, he could understand; perhaps it would be seen as being too good to be true.
He forced the tension in his frame to bleed out, relaxing into a more submissive posture. "There are more Decepticons on the way." He spoke quietly, respectfully. "If it is safe to move Sunstreaker, we should do so."
Hound blinked at him, as if surprised by his capitulation. "We have back up on the way as well."
Prowl's gaze came back up. "I know where the Con's base of operations are in this sector. If you have any aerials inbound, I believe this is the best approach to taking out their camp." Prowl transmitted the file.
Not to Prowl's true surprise, Hound frowned. "I'll pass that on. But don't expect them to act on it just 'cause you said to."
"I assume nothing of the sort." Prowl answered quietly.
Springer spoke up then. "Sunny's as good as I can get him. We need to move."
As Prowl was the least damage of the bunch, he wordlessly moved to assist Springer with carrying the severely damaged Twin.
They had barely made it less than a klick when the sound of more engines cut through the night air. Prowl tensed, scanning for a faction ID and found none. Reacting on instinct and guarded caution, he unsubspaced his rifle and readied himself.
He was not prepared when Hound stepped in front of him, anger blazing in his blue optics. "Stand down, Prowl. Those are ours."
Prowl blinked, scanning the approaching mechs again. "Are you sure? I detect no faction modulators or spark signatures."
"They are wearing dampeners." Hound pointed to his external comm., by way of explaining how he knew who they were, and powered his own weapon, aiming it at Prowl. "Stand down."
Prowl considered his options, realizing that Springer and Sideswipe had also taken up threatening postures. Recognizing he had no other option, he subspaced his rifle and opened his now empty hands.
Unfortunately, the approaching team chose that moment to arrive on the scene.
All five new Autobots instantly read the stance of their compatriots and jumped to the most logical conclusion. With commendable speed, five more weapons were spinning to life, pointed at one lone Praxian.
Increasingly worried about his continued existence, especially when he recognized Hardstrike, the new arrivals' obvious commander, Prowl struggled to maintain his neutral facade. Hardstrike was rumored to be much like Ironhide, though without the advanced age that the weapons specialist boasted that might lend extra wisdom. Nor did he have a sparkling to give them a reason to hesitate in taking him out. Processors spinning wildly in an attempt to extract himself from his sudden predicament, Prowl did the only thing he could think of to ensure some nervous, trigger-happy Autobot did not shoot him.
He crossed his wrists in front of him and dropped slowly to his knees. It was the universal sign of surrender. He hoped it was enough to prevent any of the eight Autobots surrounding him from doing him harm.
After a moment, Hardstrike looked at Hound. "So, this one's still an enemy after all?"
Hound looked at the higher-ranking mech, then back at Prowl. "To be honest, I'm not sure what to think."
"Right." Hardstrike thought for a moment. "We'll take him back and let the command team figure it out."
Prowl felt a wave of relief at that, only to stiffen again as Hardstrike stepped forward to tip the barrel of his still armed blaster under his chin, forcing the tactician's gaze upward. "You gonna do anything if we don't stasis cuff you?"
One of the other mechs, whom Prowl could not identify made a scoffing sound. "He's a Decepticon, Commander. We can't trust anything he says."
Hardstrike, clearly the new field commander of the two combined teams, waved his subordinate to silence, still looking at Prowl. "Well?"
Prowl blinked, the mask he had perfected under Megatron to conceal his emotions slipped back into place completely. He would rather not be stasis cuffed. "You will have my cooperation regardless of what you do."
A gray and white optic ridge quirked upward. "Oh? And if I choose to simply blow your helm off?"
The weapon powered up, its barrel growing hot enough to blister the paint on Prowl's chin. Prowl just stared, not entirely sure what emotion was registering as he fully processed the statement. He calculated only a fifty-fifty chance that Hardstrike would not do exactly that.
He wanted to reach up and brush the weapon to the side, knowing he had the ability to both disarm the Autobot and to do so quickly enough that the mech would not be able to take a shot. Yet he did not even budge. He could not.
Prowl's internal panic threatened to well up as he realized he was stuck. It was not so much that his frame would not respond to commands, but that his motor relays simply could not even form the commands. At first he flailed for an explanation, but he knew it almost as soon as he thought about it.
His new ethical programs.
The world spun around Prowl, threatening to upset his balance systems as he stared at Hardstrike for the eternity of several long astroseconds. He had given his word to the Autobot commander. The Autobots were currently identified as allies by his systems, this particular one as being his immediate superiors. His ethical program would not let him willingly break a promise made to either an allied mech or a superior officer.
Prowl's own words had trapped him.
He cycled air through his vents, his engine making odd tiny choking noises. But he had not other choice. He had no given himself any other choice.
For a moment he let angry despair flutter through his spark, but then pushed that aside with aggravated, grim determination. If he survived this, he would need to choose his words more carefully.
Reluctant as he might have been, Prowl had no choice but to follow the dictates of his programming. He had said he would cooperate with whatever Hardstrike chose to do. Thus he cooperated.
Meeting the challenging blue stare with a heated look of his own, Prowl silently tipped his chin up further and slightly to one side, giving the Autobot a clearer shot.
Inside he burned with humiliation and anger, mostly directed at himself this time, outside he was the epitome of calm resignation as he waited for Harstrike to make his decision.
However his cooperation was also a statement, one that Hardstrike obviously understood if the widening of his optics was anything to go by.
After a long moment in which neither mech moved so much as a stray wire – a moment Prowl did not know if he would be allowed to live past – the weapon was powered down.
Hardstrike stepped back. "On your pedes, Prowl. Lets get moving." With a jerk of his helm, the highest ranking Autobot indicated two of the mechs who had come with him. The two mechs moved into position, flanking Prowl who had not moved from his kneeling, submissive posture.
"If he tries anything, shoot him." Hardstrike ordered curtly.
"Yes, sir." They answered in tandem.
Prowl watched silently, trying to calm the unsteady pulsing of his spark, as Hardstrike transformed into a vehicle large enough to allow the unconscious Sunstreaker to be placed on him. Once that was accomplished, all the mechs quickly transformed. Prowl did likewise, followed quickly by his two guards.
It was only the fact that they were a long orn's drive from Iacon that Hardstrike had likely chosen not to cuff him. It would have taken a long, long time to walk the distance. Time Sunstreaker clearly did not have.
Prowl said nothing as he took up his assigned position in the convoy, noting his guards took up positions on either side of him. When they went areas too narrow for more than one mech to transverse side by side, they would shift so that one was in front and one behind. Despite it all, Prowl had to admire the efficiency with which they performed their assigned duties.
Unlike the drive out, there were no stops for breaks. It was a steady, hard trip to get Sunstreaker and the other injured Autobots to proper medical care.
It was only as the klicks fell away under his tires that Prowl's processor snagged on another issue, an issue that was looming larger the closer they traveled to Iacon. It was another promise he had made and would now be unable to violate.
The Twins, and especially Sunstreaker, were far more damaged than he. That was not to say he was undamaged or that the energon he was still leaking from his own wounds would not have him dangerously low within joors of reaching Iacon. The Twins, however, were royally and completely slagged. And he had given his word to the Autobot CMO concerning that eventuality.
Thus there was only one thought, less composed than his normal state of mind, that cycled repeatedly in Prowl's processor as they came within sight of Iacon's primary battlement: Slagging scrap to the pit and back. Ratchet is going to use me for spare parts.
Poor Prowl, right? Kudos to Sunstarunicorn for predicting this unintended consequence to Prowl's meddling with his ethics program (ie: loosing an aspect of free will). Also, kudos to Fianna9 for predicting the next unintended consequence Prowl is going to face… There is a saying, right? That the road to perdition is paved with good intentions? Yeah. Like I said, poor Prowl. :)
I know, another long chapter… but I just wanted to get it to a certain point before stopping. At least there was more action this time :). Please review.
