I wanted to get this up as soon as I could, because I don't think I'll get another chance before Christmas and didn't want to leave everyone hanging. So, in the spirit of the season: Merry Christmas everyone!
The next orn found Prowl sitting at his desk, Bluestreak resting in his lap, the youngling sipping at his energon while regaling the tactician about what it was like to spend a whole two orns with Bumblebee in quarters other than his own.
Prowl listened to the youngling talk; his constant, innocent chatter actually soothing following the events of the previous two orns. It was with practiced ease, developed within the last decaorn, that Prowl was able to ignore the energon Bluestreak was inadvertently taunting him with.
The medical grade Chromia had procured for him had helped, but his reserves had been so drained his fuel levels were still flirting with being dangerously low. When Prowl had onlined he had been chagrined to realize he must have been so exhausted the previous night that he had failed to set his personal proximity alarms. This lapse was discovered by the fact that the small cube of energon had been left on his table and he had been none the wiser to whoever had placed it there. Prowl did not even need to activate his logic systems to be fairly confident the culprit was Jazz.
The thought actually amused him to a small degree. Or rather it was the ironic realization that he actually took some comfort in finding out Jazz was sneaking into his quarters in that it was an indication that perhaps things were returning to normal. Whatever 'normal' passed for in his life these orns.
Though irritated at the invasion of his personal space, Prowl was not naive enough to rule out the possibility that the perpetrator had attempted to alert him to his presence. His system logs indicated the recharge he had fallen into had been far deeper than any recharge he had had since he had joined the Decepticons and was only a couple of levels above a forced medical stasis.
Regardless, it had been exactly what his systems needed because, save for the low energon levels, he felt better than he would have hoped after his experiences the previous orn.
The innocent chime of his entry request startled Prowl out of his revere. And his doorwings flared briefly in an attempt to read the sparksignature of his guest. He identified his visitor as Ironhide even as he was rising to his pedes and granting entry.
Only then did it register that Ironhide had actually requested entry rather than just barge in as he had always done previously.
Instantly alert and on guard at this unexpected change in the Autobot weapons specialist's behavior, Prowl watched the large black mech walk into his chamber.
Autobot and former Decepticon considered one another for a long moment, reading each other carefully.
Then a timid but insistant tapping of a small fist on black shin plating drew both adult mechs' gazes downward to where Bluestreak was looking imploringly up at his caretaker.
"Yes, Bluestreak?" Prowl asked, slightly confused.
Bluestreak's large blue optics blinked innocently up at him. "Why do you always stand up when someone comes in? Because that seems like it would get very tiring and it could get boring and, um, get re-pet-ta-tive."
"Repetitive." Prowl provided the correct pronunciation without thought.
"Yeah. Repetitive." Bluestreak beamed at his accomplishment. "But you do it all the time and I was kinda wondering why?"
Prowl's doorwings twitched at Ironhide's muffled huff even if he could not help but almost smile at the youngling's open bluntness. He answered patiently, glad for the opportunity to do so. "It is about respect, Bluestreak. Standing is a way of demonstrating respect to those in authority."
"Oh…" Bluestreak blinked at that, processing the information. Then he glanced briefly at Ironhide before looking back at Prowl. "But… but no one here seems to like you very much."
Prowl put a gentle hand on the blue and gray shoulder of the worried youngling. "Perhaps. But whether or not one is 'liked' there is no excuse for not demonstrating proper respect for others."
Bluestreak's helm canted to the side as he worked on that and Prowl was acutely aware Ironhide had all but frozen. Still, he did not look at the Autobot, keeping his gaze on his young charge. Then those puzzled optics brightened. "Okay. I get it. Thank you, Prowl."
Prowl nodded, gently squeezing the youngling's shoulder before returning his focus to his visitor.
He tucked his doorwings minutely, tipping his helm formally. "Thank you for your patience, Ironhide. I apologize for the interruption."
It was probably Prowl's imagination, but Ironhide seemed to shift his weight ever so slightly from one pede to the other. "Don't worry about it." There was a pause, then. "Come with me. We are taking Bluestreak to stay with Chromia."
More training, no doubt. Prowl nodded. "Understood."
Neither mech said anything else as they made the short trek to Ironhide's quarters. But they did not have to. Bluestreak talked enough for both of them, flitting from subject to subject; from the color scheme of the hallway to what he and Bumblebee were going to do to random speculations about what different types of energon treats might taste like.
Despite the uncertain and uncomfortable history between them, both adults shared an amused look as they stopped outside the correct set of doors.
Instead of Chromia, Bumblebee was the one who greeted them. He trilled happily up at Ironhide then darted to take Bluestreak up in a tight little embrace. Bluestreak laughed, the sound like song of ringing crystal to Prowl who had not heard such innocent happiness in almost a decavorn. Even Ironhide did not seem immune to the sight.
He chuckled softly as the two younglings moved further into the chamber. "It's a good thing they have each other." The dark mech said softly.
Prowl nodded once, in whole-sparked agreement. "It is."
Then Ironhide's sparkmate entered the chamber from a side room. She froze, seeing the two mechs, and straightened to her full height. She managed to look quite fierce and intimidating even though she was significantly smaller than either of the two mechs facing her. She looked at Prowl then turned her suddenly icy gaze onto Ironhide. She said nothing, just glared.
Prowl carefully kept all trace of confusion or curiosity out of his mien as Ironhide uneasily cleared his vents.
He started to gesture Prowl down the hall, but Chromia's curt, "wait!" had both mechs freezing mid intake. Even the sparklings froze their antics at the whip-like command, though none of the adults noticed.
She stalked closer, giving her sparkmate one final glare before turning the full force of her simmering fury onto the lone ex-Decepticon. Prowl's doorwings flicked stiffly under her sharp gaze, wondering what he had done now.
"If anything happens, pray you don't survive. Because death is exactly what you will plead for when I get my hands on you."
Prowl blinked, not understanding the threat or her reasons for it. He knew better than to deny or try to deflect it so he opted for a careful. "I don't understand."
Blazing sapphire optics shot briefly to Ironhide then darted back to him. "You will. Just keep it in mind."
Then she reached up and slapped the door controls, closing the portal in both of their faces.
Ironhide chuckled softly then, shaking his helm. "Primus. Isn't she fantastic?"
Prowl blinked, eyeing the larger, bulkier mech. "The two of you are definitely a good match for one another."
Prowl's engine stuttered as he realized the impertinence of what he had just said, but Ironhide simply smirked at him. "We are, aren't we?"
Then all levity was gone and Prowl stiffened as deadly seriousness took its place. "She is as serious as a cracked spark-case, though. Don't doubt it. Anyway, come with me."
Ironhide began walking again and Prowl dutifully fell into step. "I still do not understand."
"You will."
Prowl released a vent at how very unhelpful the large Autobot was choosing to be and opted to simply do as ordered and follow after him. When they exited the lift several floors above the level that the training rooms occupied, however, Prowl felt a new trepidation spread through his internals.
That feeling was magnified as Ironhide took them to, of all places, the Autobots' rec room.
Prowl had never been to the base's rec room before and was only able to identify it by the bank of energon dispensers lining one wall and the tastefully arranged seating area filling up the large room. Like a surprising number of things, rec room designs seemed to be universal across faction lines. However, the general tendency for Autobots to prefer brighter lighting schemes gave this rec room a definite airiness its Decepticon equivalents always lacked.
At the moment it was mostly unoccupied, save for the two of them and a couple others.
Silently, growing more and more uneasy, Prowl followed Ironhide toward the energon dispensers. The smell of the place washed over him and Prowl felt his tanks churn, his systems whining in need, which he tried desperately to stamp back into submission. He was on half-rations and he accepted that because he understood the reasons. It had to be a test that Ironhide would rub his olfactory sensors in that fact right now. That or it was an unimaginably cruel joke.
Looking at the ranks of glowing cubes of life-giving energy, Prowl's engine revved. Clenching his hands briefly, Prowl forced his gaze to his own pedes, struggling to gain control over the swiftly growing swell of…
A black hand pushed a large cube of energon in front of him.
Prowl stared, shocked so completely it took him an astrosecond to recognize what it was, another astrosecond to realize he was expected to take it.
Slowly, Prowl's hand unclenched and he took the cube, looking up to meet Ironhide's optics. Only strict self-control kept him from drinking from the cube as long ignored fuel-level warnings flashed with more insistence across his CPU.
Ironhide gestured vaguely to the cube as he took a sip of his own. "What's wrong?"
Prowl's mouth opened but at first he could not form words. He cleared his vents and tried again, not looking at the cube that was being referenced, not trusting himself to do so. "Are you certain it is time for me to receive another energon ration? I received one last night and, as I have observed I have been kept on approximately half-rations, it is too soon for me to receive any additional fuel."
Ironhide just stared at him. "You like being on half rations?"
Prowl's doorwings flicked slightly, his hand tightening minutely, possessively, around the cube. "That was not what I intended to convey. Rather, I was under the distinct impression that Chromia's procurement of the medical grade energon she gave me last night was unscheduled."
Ironhide snorted air through his vents. "Prime is lifting that restriction. Unless you do something that makes us reconsider, you are being allowed full rations now."
Prowl's spark skipped a beat. That was unexpected. The cube was not a cruel joke then, it was actually his. To hide a sudden tide of conflicting emotions he was not sure he could keep securely behind his mask, Prowl dipped his helm formally.
"My thanks."
Intent on maintaining his dignity, Prowl forced himself to refuel at the same unhurried pace Ironhide did, despite how much he wanted to just tip the cube back and drain it. Thankfully Ironhide did not push him for conversation and they refueled in silence. The large cube easily brought Prowl's tanks back up above half full. Then he watched as Ironhide took and subspaced additional fuel.
Before he could ask what was going on, Ironhide gestured him toward the door. "Come on, we have to get you to med bay so your weapons and your comm. systems can be unblocked. It's time for another patrol."
Prowl frowned, but obediently fell into step with the black weapons specialist. "So soon?" His repairs had not fully finalized yet, but he pushed that aside in favor of a more pressing concern, one that made this even more unexpected. "It was my impression that Sunstreaker would be out of commission for several more orns?"
Ironhide glanced at him, an unreadable glint in his optics. "He is. You aren't going with the Twins."
Prowl blinked. "Then who, may I ask?"
The smile Ironhide gave him then was mostly challenge and wariness and not at all pleasant. "You are going on patrol with me."
Prowl almost – almost – stumbled on a non-existent crack in the flooring, his optics widening in obvious proof of his surprise. Then, with another blink, he regained outward control. "I see."
Internally, however, he was even more concerned than he had been when he went out on patrol with the Twins. At least Chromia's cryptic and a furious warning suddenly made more sense.
… … …
First Aid greeted Ironhide and the former Decepticon when they entered the med bay. Ironhide's gaze flicked over the entirety of the med bay, looking for its chartreuse master. He huffed slightly when he did not find the mech he was looking for.
"Good orn, Ironhide. Ratchet is in surgery with a patient, can I help you with something?" First Aid asked cautiously, clearly a little antsy.
Ironhide looked at the junior medic and released a soft vent, then he jerked his thumb at the Praxian beside him. "He needs his weapons and comms unlocked. He's going back on patrol."
First Aid frowned slightly. "So soon? His repairs haven't finalized yet and there is a risk that…"
"I know that. Can you do it?"
"I… yes." First Aid looked at Prowl and Ironhide did the same, curious to see how the former Decepticon would react after what he and First Aid went through the previous orn.
"Prowl." First Aid hesitantly greeted the Praxian himself, but the greeting was almost a question as well."
"Good orn First Aid." Prowl greeted with a dip of his helm. "Do you wish me to…?"
"Uh, no, no. It's alright. I can do it right here, um, if you…" First Aid took one step toward Prowl.
"Of course." Prowl acknowledged the statement and then, to Ironhide's minor surprise, he acknowledged the junior medic's unspoken concern by adopting a totally non-threatening posture.
As First Aid took another step toward Prowl, the tactician slid aside the appropriate panel, giving the medic access. First Aid reached up, hesitated a moment, and then quickly disabled the override he had put in place not very long ago. Once he released the controls he hastily stepped back.
Prowl nodded, closing the panel and looking at the young medic. "Thank you, First Aid."
First Aid smiled, an expression Ironhide did not expect to see on the younger mech in the presence of a Decepticon… former or otherwise. "You're welcome and… Prowl?"
Prowl's optic ridge quirked. "Yes?"
"Take it easy out there, or you'll be right back in here again. Your repairs on not finalized yet and you won't be able to take as much abuse without sustaining damage, especially your right doorwing and your left leg."
Prowl acknowledged the statement. "Duly noted, medic. I appreciate your concern."
"Concern?" Ironhide snorted air through his vents. "He's just doing his job."
"No, I…" First Aid glanced at Ironhide nervously and quickly returned his attention to Prowl and smiled, ignoring the black weapons specialist. "You are welcome, Prowl."
When Ironhide glared at him, First Aid's engines made a squeaking sound and beat a hasty retreat.
"Come on." Ironhide retraced their steps and Prowl followed him out of the med bay and through the base. The larger mech took them to the eastern perimeter of the base then stopped, just outside the primary defense grid and turned to Prowl with a low, warning growl in his engine.
He saw the tactician tense at his aggressive posturing, processing what it represented. There would be only one mech in charge of this patrol and it was not going to be the former Decepticon. Not wholly unexpectedly Prowl's initial reaction was defensive, but that quickly faded as he averted his gaze, doorwings drooping fractionally.
Seeing what he wanted, Ironhide snapped an order as he would to a first orn trainee. "Stand by for transmission of mission data."
"Standing by." It was said with the rapidity and stiffness as to hint at being an automatic response.
Ironhide hesitated for just an astrosecond, then transmitted the data.
Prowl received the highly compressed data burst, scanned it for malware and then accessed it within astroseconds of receiving it. It took only another handful of astroseconds to process it, analyze it and then he looked up at Ironhide, optics glowing brighter than the Autobot had seen in some time. The tactician nodded.
It was more data than he had been given on his last patrol. Much, much more. This was the type and quantity of information he would have expected when being sent on a mission. It gave the tactician hope that, perhaps, it meant they were taking serious his participation this time around and that it was not simply a complex test of his loyalty and intentions.
It did not take long before his battle and tactical computers practically hummed at the input as variables were weighed, analyzed and compared, the results woven together to create a detailed and almost eloquently beautiful picture.
For the space of one or two sparkbeats, Prowl reveled in the freedom of being allowed to do what he was created to do, even if only at a very peripheral level, simply enjoying the play of the calculations in his processors. Then everything was almost brutally categorized and sorted, organized into a practical report.
Less than half a breem once the data pack was transmitted, Prowl's optics cleared and he looked at Ironhide. "We are most likely to encounter Decepticon patrols at the following locations."
Prowl sent the information to his mission commander before continuing. "Also, it appears they may have a staging area at these coordinates, though that is not confirmed. If they do, defenses will likely be greatest at these points." He sent that information as well.
Ironhide watched as the Praxian's optics became a touch wary, as if the other mech was not sure how his next words would be received. "Sir, based on the information you have given me, I do not believe the two of us could successfully take that position."
Ironhide growled softly and was rewarded by a very slight twitch of the tactician's doorwings. "We can at least try to confirm its location."
Ironhide did not even wait for Prowl's confirming nod before he transformed and took off toward their target patrol zone. Prowl was less than an astrosecond in doing the same.
Though he did nothing to reveal his inner thoughts, Ironhide could not help but consider two things.
First, as he had – mostly – expected, Prowl had easily acquiesced to his command of this mission. That would cut down a lot of the processor ache that usually accompanied dealing with former Decepticons in this type of situation. As a breed, the 'Cons seemed to constantly feel the need to test those in authority, only submitting when those placed over them demonstrated unquestionable strength and the willingness to keep them in their place by force. Perhaps Prowl was truly different in that regard. Maybe. That did not mean that Ironhide would let down his guard any time soon. He had lived to long to take such foolish risks.
Second, Prowl's processing ability had quickly narrowed down the mission objective from "discover any possible Decepticon activity" to "determine the existence of a suspected Decepticon stronghold." As an ancient warrior build, Ironhide greatly appreciated having a more detailed and focused mission objective.
Perhaps, just perhaps, this would be a pleasant as well as a productive patrol. Company not withstanding. Maybe.
… … …
Prowl and Ironhide traveled for half an orn before entering their assigned territory. Ironhide transformed and Prowl did likewise, looking at his mission commander, waiting for orders.
It had been decavorns since Prowl had been in this position, but he felt as he had his first orns on the Enforcer Corps in Praxus when he had been assigned as a junior partner for a much older, crustier veteran of the corps for his introduction to street patrol.
In time, he knew, he would learn to anticipate Ironhide's commands and would not need to be quite as attentive. Ironhide looked around their immediate area and then focused on Prowl.
"What are we likely to face in a Decepticon patrol here?"
Prowl blinked, frowning slightly as he shook his head. "That data is unavailable, sir." He answered cautiously. "However, given the probable size of the staging area, it is unlikely their patrols will be larger than three mechs."
Prowl paused, looking at Ironhide closely. Neither the Twins nor Hound or Springer had been interested in his evaluations. Would Ironhide prove different? "Sir, if we take out a patrol, it will alert their base we are here. We will loose the element of surprise."
The feral grin Ironhide gave him made Prowl's engine hitch. "Not if we do it right."
Prowl hesitated a moment longer, his doorwings twitching slightly as if unable to decide if they should droop submissively or flare in silent challenge. He proceeded carefully. "I believe I can plot a course that will take us to their base without bringing us into unavoidable contact with their patrols."
Ironhide snarled and Prowl quickly continued, hoping to mollify the larger mech, not really wanting to start off his patrol with injuries delivered by his own mission commander. "We can, of course, confront a patrol on our way out."
Ironhide stepped toward him, his snarl followed by a low growl from his engine. "Are you afraid of a little fight?"
It was a challenge and an accusation at the same time. Looking at those now blazing sapphire optics, Prowl knew a wrong move here would have painful consequences. He evaluated his options.
He opted for the blunt truth, as he read the tactical situation, delivered in as respectful a manner as he could manage. He averted his gaze, allowing his doorwings to tuck back ever so slightly.
"No." He answered Ironhide's question calmly. "However, it is more conducive to the successful completion of our mission to avoid outright combat until we have retrieved the needed intelligence, sir."
There, it was in Ironhide's hands now to decide how to respond.
Expecting more argument at the very least, perhaps even a physical rebuttal, Prowl was surprise when the bulkier mech actually gave him a slight smirk. Then Ironhide backed off a step, standing down from his challenging posture.
The Autobot paused for just a moment, then transformed. "Which way?"
Completely shocked Prowl could only stare for an embarrassing astrosecond before he managed to collapse into his own alt mode. Still having a hard time believing the other mech would trust him enough to allow him to actually do so, Prowl carefully took the lead.
As if he had no doubts, at least no doubts he would allow the tactician to see, Ironhide fell in behind him without comment. For Prowl it was rather surreal. For Ironhide at least the look in Prowl's optics had been entertaining, even if he kept his systems at an even higher state of readiness than he normally would. Just in case.
… … …
The two mechs traveled in near absolute silence for roughly two joors, weaving their way through the metal landscape and around the remnants of buildings – an ancient industrial center it appeared. Prowl stayed in the lead, but Ironhide was right behind him and the Praxian did not doubt the more aggressive mech would hesitate to rescind the minute amount of trust he had been granted if he felt the need.
Finally, deeming they were close enough for the moment, Prowl slowed even further and then transformed mid motion to crouch behind a jagged metal outcropping. He scanned the area below their position intently, though he felt Ironhide transform and crouch behind him.
Finding what he wanted, a small building masterfully designed to blend into the derelict surroundings, Prowl pointed to it. "There."
His voice was barely audible and Ironhide just nodded. Both mechs carefully recorded every byte of data their sensors could detect. It did not take long.
Finally Ironhide released a short vent. "Neither of us are spies. The rest of the intelligence will have to be for Spec Ops to gather."
Prowl nodded. "Yes, sir. However, I believe we could easily locate and survey their outer defenses."
Though he had still spoken softly, Ironhide's gaze snapped to him like a targeting laser. "I thought you already knew where they were."
Prowl shook his helm. "This facility was unknown to me previously. The locations I gave you were conjecture based on my understanding of previous Decepticon facilities."
"I see." Ironhide's tone was even more cautious sounding than before and Prowl wondered what he had done to suddenly garner the increased suspicion. Therefore he was momentarily thrown when Ironhide continued. "Lead on, then."
Recovering swiftly, Prowl nodded.
Opting not to return to alt mode, Prowl guided them around the perimeter of the secret Decepticon base, far enough out to hopefully not attract attention, but close enough to allow sufficient surveillance of their defenses. It took another three joors before the task was completed but they had been able to locate the perimeter defenses as well as the positions of the sensor net that protected the base. As usual, Prowl set his battle and tactical computers to analyzing the data as it came in.
When they had returned to their starting position, Prowl gave voice to a conclusion his tactical computer was 99.33% confident with and which it had also found statistically significant. "I do not believe they have any aerial forces stationed here."
Ironhide glanced at the portion of the Decepticon stronghold they could see from this vantage point. "What is the significance?"
Prowl blinked, the question was asked with genuine curiosity, and without a hint of veiled distrust or suspicion. He answered easily. "This base is too remote for grounds scouts to do much. Its location is intriguing from a tactical perspective but improbable. Unless…"
Prowl stiffened, the weight of his sudden epiphany making his systems stall momentarily as he comprehended the significance of what his calculations were telling him.
Ironhide's weapons spun to life, though whether it was defensiveness directed at Prowl himself or in response to any possible threat the tactician might have noticed, Prowl did not know. He answered quickly, just in case it was the former. "Unless this base is not intended as a scouting outpost."
Ironhide growled, but again the underlying intention of the sound was lost on Prowl. "Then what else would it be?"
"A safe-house." Prowl looked at Ironhide and could not miss the growing disbelief in the other mech's optics. Knowing he was wearing the larger, bulkier mech's patience thin – and very much aware of how dangerous that fact was to his continued wellbeing – Prowl continued quickly. "Consider the fact that all of our aerial recon did not show it, the pattern of the perimeter defenses, the way it is strategically located a short distance from the main highway connecting Iacon and Stanix… it would only take four to six more of such outposts – one for every major artery connecting the city to neighboring metroplexes - to complexly surround Iacon. I believe it is possible they are way points for intelligence coming out of Iacon."
Ironhide growled, his optics blazing hotly and he turned, weapons whirring to life and he looked ready to storm the Decepticon facility single handedly. On instinct, Prowl shot forward, grabbing the other mech's arm.
The tactician realized his mistake a moment before he was thrown to the ground. He did not fight or attempt to get the larger mech off of him, but he did lift a hand to circle Ironhide's wrists. Black fingers dug into white armor, but Prowl only grunted. He would not be so easily intimidated, not when the safety of Ironhide himself, the safety of Iacon in general – and therefore Bluestreak – and the safety of every Autobot in the city lay in the balance. He might not be able to defend himself physically, but he would attempt to do his duty regardless.
He met those fierce blue pinpoints of light without flinching. "If we reveal we know of their presence, they will simply move locations. We need to ascertain all Decepticon positions and then launch a coordinated attack on all of them simultaneously or we accomplish nothing, sir."
Ironhide's systems were hot, but Prowl could tell he was at least processing the warning. But Ironhide growled again, hands tightening painfully over his armor, making his systems hiss in protest.
"Says you!" The word 'Decepticon' was unspoken but almost shouted all the same.
Any trust Prowl might have gained was rapidly fading. Prowl's processors raced, desperate to find a way to keep the trigger-happy mech from making a fatal decision.
He pressed his point, shaking his helm minutely. "How long have your scouts been collecting the data you sent me? How long have your patrols missed this? Do we have that much time to find them again if they do relocate?"
Prowl's grip on Ironhide's wrists tightened a fraction. "I am 96.51% certain that if we reveal we are aware of this one location by attacking it, the others will simply be moved and while we are attempting to locate them, this one will simply be reestablished in a new location. You and I are simply not enough firepower to take that base, we will fail and the odds favoring our survival are so miniscule as to be virtually nonexistent."
"You question my command?" Ironhide growled.
Prowl's optics widened and he hesitated but shook his helm again. "You have yet to issue such a command therefore I am not questioning one. Though I believe it to be a mistake, if you order me to do so, I will fight beside you. All I ask is that you take into consideration the greater ramifications of that choice. Iacon will be left without knowing such a breach in their security even exists."
Ironhide glared at him for a long moment, then his look softened into a hard stare. Slowly, much to Prowl's surprise, Ironhide let him up. Prowl watched warily as Ironhide stood, backing away to give him space. Only when it was clear Ironhide was truly standing down did Prowl push himself back to his own pedes.
Once he was upright, brilliant cerulean optics locked onto his again, Ironhide's voice was laced tight with warning. "When we get back, Intelligence and Tactical are going to want a full debriefing."
It might have been his imaginative subroutines again, but Prowl thought he heard an emphasis on the word 'full.' Regardless, Prowl nodded, not truly expecting anything different. Not with something this significant.
"Understood." He hesitated only a sparkbeat before continuing. "I will comply."
He knew that last comment trapped him, but at this point Prowl did not care. It was too important, the stakes were too high, and he knew he would have willingly complied with whatever a 'full debriefing' might entail even without his new ethical programs coming into play.
Ironhide considered him a moment longer then nodded. With an open palm he then gestured Prowl to lead them out. It was an acknowledgement that Prowl was the best mech to take point in getting them back into safer territory as well as a tacit statement that what little trust Ironhide had deemed him worthy of was not completely lost.
Prowl did not allow himself to dwell on that fact, not willing to risk reading too much into it.
… … …
When they made it back to Iacon's head quarters, Ironhide had already signaled an urgent communiqué to the Prime, Jazz, Smokescreen and the rest of the Command Team. At the main gates, Ironhide transformed. Prowl did the same a few nanoseconds later.
Ironhide looked at the former Decepticon, considering him closely then spoke with that same clipped, drill-master voice. "Come with me."
Prowl followed silently, only now allowing himself to think about what might come next. Yes, as a returning soldier with important intelligence, he expected to be questioned and thoroughly debriefed. But he was also a former enemy of the Autobots, a prisoner of war.
With a resigned vent of heated air, Prowl prepared himself for another processor scan.
He followed Ironhide through the base and back up to the briefing room he had been questioned in the last time he had returned from a mission. That similarity did not help settle his tanks at all and only reinforced how precarious his position was.
Most of the command team was present: Optimus, Smokescreen, Red Alert, Jazz and Blaster. Prowl wondered about those who were absent, but as it was not his place to speculate, said nothing. To his surprise, and mild relief, he was not magnetized to his chair. Even so, he was careful to make no threatening moves, well aware the seating arrangement – with Ironhide on one side and Jazz on the other – was not incidental.
Ironhide supplied the bulk of the debriefing, as mission leader, sharing the details of the mission itself and the basics of what they had discovered. Then attention was turned to Prowl.
The Praxian managed not to react outwardly to the sudden tension of being under the intense scrutiny he now found himself. He would have had to have been blind not to sense the growing alarm and general unease and anger as Ironhide had laid out the groundwork of their disturbing discovery.
Optimus addressed him then and Prowl wanted to shudder under the powerful mix sheer authority and subdued threat in the deep voice. "We want every byte of data concerning the Decepticon installation and your evaluation of it."
Prowl released a quiet vent, a simple straightforward command. And this time his evaluation was being requested rather than ignored, though he dare not read too much into that fact.
He bowed his helm. "Understood, Prime. I have little to add to Ironhide's report except the technical information." He hesitated for a moment. "Transmitting now."
Prowl databurst all six of the mechs in the briefing room and then waited silently as they processed the information.
Smokescreen was the first to speak, eyeing Prowl suspiciously. "When did you have time to compile this analysis?"
Prowl spoke evenly, not hinting at the sorrow he felt at his former apprentice's continued distrust. "On the way back to Iacon, though the preliminary work was completed before we left the patrol zone." He paused, reading the varied expressions of those around him. "Have I done something wrong?"
"No." Jazz shook his helm, but his optics were likewise intense, even if hidden behind a visor. "Is this all that you have?"
Prowl shifted his gaze to the smaller, silver mech next to him, careful not to react to the amazingly polite warning in the saboteur's tone. "It is."
He saw the brief flash of ingrained suspicion war with something else on the mech's face and resignedly lifted his right arm, placing it on the table between them, sliding aside the panel covering his wrists' dataport. "If you wish to confirm."
Everyone at the table – save for Prowl who kept his gaze on Jazz – looked at the proffered dataport, taking in the silent offer it represented. An offer for something none of them had planned on requesting, though once it was before them, the logic of doing so in these circumstances was inescapable.
When Jazz hesitated, Smokescreen spoke, his voice a touch desperate though mostly challenging and biting. "If this isn't everything, I won't be able to devise an appropriate response."
That had the benefit of being an accurate statement and Prowl nodded almost imperceptibly, both in agreement with the stated fact and in understated approval of his former student's insistence on getting everything he needed to do his function.
None of the other mechs, save perhaps Optimus, noticed the former Decepticon's reaction to Smokescreen as the air was suddenly alive with the tale-tell buzz indicating silent communications passing between them. For his part, Prowl kept perfectly still as he waited for their decision.
After nearly a breem, Optimus' gaze ranged over his gathered officers and all attention snapped respectfully to him. Whatever he said was delivered with a firm, determined look that settled finally on Smokescreen. The Autobot tactician looked unhappy, but he settled back in his chair yielding to his leader's decision. The Prime, Jazz and Ironhide all appeared firm and unbending, though Ironhide also appeared unhappy. Red Alert simply appeared perplexed and a little nervous, as did Blaster.
By that alone, Prowl was able to discern what the decision had been. He looked at Smokescreen. "You do not trust me." He said softly.
Blazing, angry optics snapped up to him, "Why should I? You have already betrayed me once."
Prowl considered those words, not bothering to deny them. "Do you trust the data and analysis I have provided?"
As a tactician, he knew how vitally important it was to be able to trust the intelligence one worked with. He also knew how critical it was for a tactician to have absolute confidence in any analysis done by others. He would not allow himself to be the reason Smokescreen failed to perform his function if something as simple as a processor scan could allay those concerns.
Smokescreen's lip plate twitched. "I have no choice."
"Yes, you do." Prowl looked at his, still open wrist port.
Smokescreen's optics narrowed where others around the table widened, though no one attempted to intervene as the Autobot tactician sneered. "You are well aware hacking isn't my specialty."
Prowl nodded. "I am also aware you know enough to do what needs to be done if you wished. Or Jazz could do so for you."
Smokescreen hesitated, then shook his helm, seeming to deflate. "No he won't. And… it is too risky at this juncture for me to do so on my own. I will trust Jazz's judgment."
Prowl considered his former apprentice for a moment longer, wondering exactly what those words implied about the saboteur seated next to him. At length, and considering such conjecture to be more dangerous than helpful, he simply dipped his helm, withdrawing his offered wrist port.
Optimus released a vent of air, looking at his senior tactician. "Thank you, Smokescreen. I do not want to keep you from your duties."
"Yes, sir." Smokescreen stood, recognizing a dismissal when he heard one, bowed slightly to the Prime and then left.
A look from Optimus had Red Alert and Blaster joining the mostly gray and white Praxian in heading for the door.
Now left alone with only the Prime, Jazz and Ironhide – with two of them flanking him as he faced the Autobot leader – Prowl straightened, unsure of what was going to happen.
As the silence dragged, the Prime's gaze grew even more intense and searching, and Prowl lowered his own respectfully. He prepared himself for some new command.
"Prowl." Optimus' voice demanded Prowl meet those intense optics with his own. Only then did the Prime continue. "We have decided, in light of your recent behavior and what we have observed to date, that it is time to extend the liberties you have here on base."
Prowl blinked, his thoughts coming to a sudden standstill as the words he heard clashed in complete juxtaposition to what he had expected to hear.
The Prime smiled slightly at his reaction. "Your actions will still be closely monitored and we will require you to make your intended movements known to either Jazz, Ironhide or Red Alert. However, you may move between the your quarters, med bay, the rec room, the observatory deck and the wash racks at your own discretion."
Alarm shot through Prowl. "Is that wise, sir? Most of the base population still sees me as a threat."
Prime cocked an optic ridge. "Then it will be up to you to prove otherwise."
Ironhide harrumphed, growling lowly. "Anything happens to violate our trust in this lands you right back where you started: in the brig."
Optimus shot a quelling look at Ironhide though he addressed Prowl. "Is there anything else on base you would like permission to have access to?"
The question was asked with calm serenity even if the tension in the room suddenly skyrocketed because of it. Prowl stiffened visibly. Why would they ask him that?
Oh, there were many places he wanted to go, places he could be of assistance. But he was not fool enough to think such requests would be granted. It was far too early and while they might trust him to go on the occasional patrol, he expected he would not be trusted with much beyond that for quite a while, if ever. Even asking for such clearance would likely find him heading straight back to the brig.
He could tell they awaiting his reply with open suspicion, aware this was as much a test of his character as it was a genuine offer. He wanted to believe the Prime was genuine.
But Prowl really had no need to go elsewhere than what had already been granted. He was about to say as much when a different idea entered his processor. There was something he could ask for that might be neutral enough to be approved and yet would also help him be more prepared for whatever the future might bring.
He looked up at Optimus Prime, then lowered his gaze, formally bowing his helm. "Thank you Prime, for your generous offer. It is far more than I expected. I… I would like to request your permission to use the training rooms. And, if it is not too much, if I could have access to some blank datapads."
Prowl could not help but notice all three reacted with surprise, and that made him nervous.
"Ya serious?" Jazz's sharp, incredulous question did not help reassure him.
"I did not mean to overstep…" Prowl hastened to assert only to be waved to silence by a flick of the Prime's hand.
"You haven't." The Prime assured. "We are just… surprised that is all you asked for."
That made sense. Prowl released a vent, his doorwings relaxing a fraction of a centimeter. "My needs are few and, as I have no actual function on base, there is no need for more." He explained softly.
Prime considered this for a long moment then he nodded. "Very well. I will inform Red Alert of your new privileges. Report to med bay for your post mission check and systems lockdown. Then you are on your own until called on. I still do not want you leaving the base or the assigned areas without escort."
Prowl nodded, actually relieved to have an order, something he could follow without having to worry about making a mistake. "Yes, sir." He looked at Ironhide. "Bluestreak?"
Ironhide's expression was unreadable. "Chromia will meet you in the med bay."
Prowl nodded and rose to his pedes. He bowed to the Prime and took his leave, his actions mirroring almost perfectly those of Smokescreen.
Once the door shut once again, Ironhide looked incredulously at Jazz and then at his leader. "The practice rooms?"
Jazz's claws were drumming on the table and he looked back toward the door, deep in thought. "Don't worry, 'Hide. I'll find out what programs he runs."
I know, I said not to get used to the longer chapters, but I just keep making them long… Oh well, I suspect no one is complaining. :) Just so you know, I was considering including that last section in with the next chapter, but decided it would fit just fine here, even if it made it a little longer than I intended. A little bonus, in the spirit of giving...
Anyway, please review! (Consider it an easy Christmas present to give, if it helps any :D )
