Many thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter! You guys are awesome. Twenty reviews is the greatest number for any single chapter I have posted and I am grateful to everyone. :)


Early the next orn Jazz sat in the seldom-used chair behind his desk, the clawed fingers of one hand drumming restlessly on the metal surface as he stared intently at the screen recessed into the desk's top. On that screen he watched, for the third time, the Prime's recent sparring match with Prowl.

Optimus had stated the situation accurately. Prowl had been winning handedly most of the time. He would have had to be blind not to see the raw emotion brimming behind Prowl's fighting: the anger, frustration and pain. The mech's sheer intensity had been frightening to watch, even knowing it was only a recording of something that had taken place many joors ago.

By all rights, any mech with his history and skill who was that distraught should not have had the control to avoid harming Optimus. True, that ethical coding prevented him from intentionally killing any Autobot, but no programming codes could prevent accidents.

Only well honed skill, absolute control and a deeply ingrained desire not to harm Optimus could have prevented him from doing so.

And, seeing as Optimus had not come to any harm; that must have been the case.

With a flick of his finger he paused the display and the scene happened to freeze on the exact moment Prowl had first hit the training room wall when he and Ironhide had interrupted them. He had not thought about it much at the time, but Jazz knew there was no way he and Ironhide would have been able to do that if Prowl had not let them. He had not fought them. At all.

Just as he had not fought Jazz during any of the processor scans he had performed. Just as he had not fought Hardstrike when the mech had held a blaster under Prowl's chin. Just as he had not resisted Ratchet even when he expected to have his exoframe forcibly removed.

Optimus was convinced Prowl was not a threat. He would not have allowed himself to stay in such a dangerous situation if he had, Jazz was…well, almost completely sure of that. And, as difficult as it was for him to admit it, Jazz had to concede it was appearing as if Prowl – as dangerous as the mech might be – was not actually a threat.

With a final, decisive drum of his fingers, he toggled the view to that of the monitoring devices inside Prowl's quarters. At the moment he was sitting with Bluestreak at his desk going over the educational material Chromia had provided. Very mundane, very much what a responsible and devoted caretaker would do.

Interestingly, even though he had been granted limited run of the base, Prowl preferred either his quarters or the training rooms. He would visit the rec room only as necessary to refuel himself and Bluestreak, the wash racks to see to his and Bluestreak's needs and to the observatory deck from time to time. It was clear Prowl did not like casual interactions with the rest of the mechs on the base unless necessary. Jazz half suspected that most of the time Prowl left his quarters only for the express purposes of getting Bluestreak out, not because he himself wished to be in public.

Considering the report he had read from Inferno about the last time Prowl had visited the rec room during a high volume shift change, Jazz could not blame the former Decepticon for his avoidance of crowds.

And that only served to drive home Optimus' admonition that if the Autobots' senior commanders were not willing to give Prowl an honest chance, there was no way the rank and file would either.

Jazz flicked the screen off entirely and then, after a moment's thought, activated his communications system.

/Hound, it's Jazz. Come see me in my office, mech. I got an assignment for ya./

Hound was only a sparkbeat in responding. /Yes, sir. On my way./

Three breems later, the entry request sounded and Jazz remotely opened the door. Moments later Hound entered. He drew himself up in front of Jazz. "Reporting as ordered."

Jazz waved the larger, olive green mech into a chair. "Thank ya for coming Hound. There is a scoutin' mission I need your particular talents for, if ya're interested."

Hound frowned slightly. "Of course I am. You know that."

Jazz allowed a tiny half-smile and a nod. "That's why I asked ya. This one's a bit different though."

"Oh? In what way?" Hound leaned forward, curious and openly intrigued. "Where do you need me to go?"

Jazz tapped his fingers on the desk a couple of times causing the scout's optics to flick briefly to his hand. "It isn't where, it is who."

Hound frowned again. "I don't understand."

At that Jazz smiled once more. "Let me tell ya a little about who your teammate is gonna be…"

… … …

Prowl reported to the briefing room Jazz had directed him to only to find none other than the saboteur and Hound waiting for him. Both scout and spy turned to face the door when he stepped across the threshold.

Prowl froze midstep, taking in the clearly wary and uneasy expression on Hound's faceplate then looked at Jazz for an explanation.

Jazz only smiled. "You ready for your patrol assignment, Prowl?"

Prowl blinked at the almost friendly inquiry, sensing the smaller mech's demeanor held a touch of greater sincerity than it had before. He nodded. "I am."

Jazz gestured to Hound. "I believe you two know each other?"

Hound's unhappy expression did not change as he nodded briefly. "Yes."

Prowl just managed to prevent his doorwings from twitching at the tenor of the scout's reply and he nodded as well.

Jazz glanced at Hound until the olive green mech looked at him and then nodded in a manner that was almost encouraging. Then the silver minibot included Prowl with his next statement. "Very good. Hound will brief you and then you are to leave within the joor. Central Supply is waiting for you. As is Medical."

Hound frowned, tearing his gaze away from Prowl to look at Jazz again. "Medical?"

"To release his weapons." Jazz pointed at Prowl, then smiled. "Have fun, you two." Then the silver saboteur did rather graceful pirouette and glided from the briefing room, leaving Prowl and Hound alone.

Once the doors closed over Jazz's shiny tailpipe, Prowl and Hound looked back at each other. They considered each other in silence for a long moment, neither one knowing exactly what to do next. Then Hound cleared his vents and turned slightly to face Prowl more directly.

"You are a high ranking member on the Decepticon command chain." It was half question, half observation.

Prowl's doorwings twitched fractionally. "I was, yes. But no more."

Hound's armor flared slightly in challenge. "And you will accept my command of this mission? You will follow my orders?"

Frowning slightly, Prowl answered immediately. "I did before."

It was apparently the wrong thing to say, Hound's engine revved. "I remember that you questioned every statement or decision I made and that you went off and did your own thing."

Prowl considered his newly assigned mission commander, processing again his memories of that first patrol. Of course, Hound had no particular reason to trust him. Last time they had been in each other's company, Hound had not been sure whether or not he was a potential Decepticon plant. Hound had been the one to initially decide his tactical evaluation was not welcome.

With a resigned release of air through his vents, Prowl spoke softly. "Are you ordering me to keep my thoughts to myself, regardless of any extenuating circumstances?"

Hound blinked, then frowned again. "I'm asking you to respect when I've made a decision." He paused for a sparkbeat. "I've been… encouraged… to take seriously any recommendations or observations you make. I'll do so because I trust Jazz, but I'm still in command."

Still meeting those probing blue optics, Prowl nodded, stepping back slightly, showing by body language he was yielding to Hound's position. It was the same thing he had done the last time Hound had wanted to ensure Prowl respected his Authority.

Prowl dipped his helm. "You are in command."

Hound continued to study him for a long moment, then released a vent of air. "Transmitting mission data…"

… … …

Part of the mission data Hound had transmitted to Prowl was that this was intended to be a three-decaorn mission. They were to scout the western perimeter between Iacon territory and the Centari Tetrax region. It was far enough away that it took nearly five orns just to reach their assigned zone. Five orns in which they traveled mostly in silence, though occasionally Hound would make an attempt at uneasy conversation. Unfortunately, the one time Prowl endeavored to ask his own question, as to how Hound became a scout, he was met by a suspicious retort.

After that, Prowl was very careful in asking questions and very judicious about what information he shared about himself. It might not be the best way to gain trust, but it was also rather dangerous to offer too much about himself for the very same reason that Hound was not being open either.

True to his word, Hound at least considered Prowl's suggestions when it came to things like course corrections, approaches, possible threats and the like. That was not to say he always followed those suggestions, but he at least listened and seemed to take them seriously.

Likewise, Prowl was true to his word and followed orders, not even commenting when his recommendations were rejected and not boasting when they were accepted. Not that he was naturally inclined to do so, though Hound seemed surprised by it nonetheless.

It was not a comfortable partnership, but it was workable. Thankfully none of the situations they had encountered so far were critical.

That changed on the thirteenth orn into their mission.

A sensor blip on the very edge of his range caught Prowl's attention because it deviated significantly from the data he had been given on the area. Silently he alerted Hound.

Hound paused and transformed into his base mode. A moment later, Prowl did the same, straining to gather more information.

Hound adopted a look of concentration and then frowned. "I'm not detecting anything." Then he canted a look at Prowl. "But then you do have those doorwings. Let's proceed cautiously."

Prowl nodded. "Understood."

As they approached a deep basin in the natural metal landscape, they found the anomaly was a Decepticon camp, the structures clearly temporary and only the minimum necessary to protect the mechs stationed there. That was not to say it was not relatively large, at least a division, only that it was not a permanent construction.

/This is the third Decepticon incursion into Iacon territory within the last vorn./ Hound transmitted to Prowl almost absently as the olive-green scout carefully surveyed the enemy camp located at the far end of a naturally occurring clearing. /Slag. We have to get this intel back to base./

Prowl nodded in agreement, then pointed to a metal outcropping closer to the camp. /I believe we might be able to get close enough in that location to be able to pick up some of the comm. traffic in and out of the base. It is possible they have not changed their encryption codes since my capture. If we can do so, it would give us a better idea what their mission is./

Hound looked at him appraisingly for a long moment. /I'll go. That vantage point is too close to their camp. I'm not risking you thinking to go back to them./

Prowl frowned. /I am not returning to the Decepticons. While that location will put you close enough to intercept their stronger communications signals, it will also blind you to any possible enemy attack. My doorwings make such a task safer for me…/

/That is why you will stay here to be my lookout./ Hound's engine revved.

/All I will be able to do is warn you, you will be too far away for my weapons to aid you and if I move from here I will not be able to see well enough to give you sufficient warning./ Prowl tried again. /It is less likely that I would trip sensor alarms either, because my signal is still that of a Decepticon…/

Hound's armor flared, his engine revving again, silencing him. /You will stay here and act as look out. That is my decision./

Prowl sucked in a draft of air, realizing he had pushed to hard and that instead of swaying Hound, it had only served to reinforce his determination. He dipped his helm, averting his gaze slightly. /Yes, sir./

Hound continued to glare at him then abruptly transformed into his alt mode. Prowl did not let his posture relax until the Autobot was gone. With a tiny shake of his helm, the only outward expression he allowed of his misgivings even in complete isolation, Prowl took up the position that would best allow him to serve as a lookout for his mission commander.

Below him, Hound made good time in reaching the relative shelter of the natural metal outcropping. He watched the mech transform into base mode and reach up to fiddle with his external communications array. Mindful of the highly dangerous position they were both in, Prowl cast his own sensors as wide as he possibly could, so as to better detect approaching threats as early as possible.

Fifteen breems into their stakeout, Prowl's sensors gave him an alert and he focused on it only long enough to feel dread suddenly explode in his tanks. He quickly did the calculations based on current speed, trajectory, altitude and known scanning range of the approaching hostiles and signaled Hound.

/Decepticon seekers on approach bearing 557.43; closing quickly. They will be within sensor range in less than one breem./ Prowl cast a look the direction the seekers were coming from even though he could not see them yet, then returned it to Hound. /If they are approaching this camp, they will descend low enough to spot us, if not, it is remotely possible they will not detect our presence./

/Slag!/ Hound spit back over the comm. and Prowl saw him turn to look that direction as well. /You are just telling me this now?/

/I have only just detected them. They are moving very quickly./ Prowl paused, his spark twisting in its casing. /You have no cover from aerial surveillance./

/Yeah. Tell me something I don't know./ Far below him, Hound looked down, then glanced around. /Fine./

He transformed and backed his alt mode up against the metal outcropping that was shielding him from the base. Prowl's sensitive doorwings were more clearly able to detect the sound of seeker engines as suddenly, Hound's form wavered and in his place the metal outcropping abruptly took on another few angles.

It took Prowl a moment to realize what had happened. Hound had camouflaged himself using a holographic emitter. Impressive, truly impressive and Prowl allowed himself an astrosecond to appreciate that particular skill. He briefly wondered why he had not been previously aware of that ability, but then brushed that aside, he was still suspected of being an enemy. Of course, Hound would not want to risk putting himself at a disadvantage in his presence.

It was an effective cover too, except for one minor detail. /Hound, I am still reading your spark signature and your faction ID./

/Shut up!/ Hound hissed back. /Unless you want them to pick up our comm. chatter too./

Hound was right. Prowl had been off the front lines for so long, he had grown rusty on such basic field principles and he berated himself for making such a novice mistake. Hound would know the limitations of his own abilities, it was arrogant to think a trained and respected scout needed Prowl to tell him. Accepting the rebuke, Prowl moved as stealthily as possible. He backed himself under the overhang of the natural metal projection he had been using to conceal his own position.

As the sound of seeker engines grew louder, Prowl was reminded of that first, horrible moment in Praxus when the missiles first started to eat away the city. A shiver raced down his frame before he could control it but then he forced the memory away, knowing that if he did not focus on the moment it could be his last.

To his horror, the seekers did slow as they approached, their altitude dropping so quickly it left no doubt they had been headed to the camp to begin with. The air moving through Prowl's vents started to flow easier as it looked like they were making their final approach to the base itself. Then they deviated. Their angle of descent flattened and they began a slow, almost lazy circle of the base instead, the sudden energy in the air indicating they were directing their rather powerful sensors toward the ground below them.

Prowl's hands curled into fists as he watched them slow as they approached Hound's location. There was nothing he could do. Even were he close enough to even get a targeting lock on them, he was no match for three seekers. One perhaps, but not three, and only if he found a way to disable their flight ability.

Prowl would still appear on their scanners as a Decepticon. The seekers would not bother with him, they wouldn't care what a ground-bound Decepticon was doing. But Hound's Autobot signal would be like a bright beacon on their scanners. Prowl knew all of that, but it did not stop him from cussing silently as one of the seekers dropped all the way to the ground, his trine-mates hovering just above him in a loose triangle around Hound's position. Hastily, Prowl tasked his battle and tactical computers with finding out how to rescue Hound, if it were even possible.

With his scanners stretched to the maximum, Prowl could just hear the landed seeker's whiny cackle. "Oooh, what do we have here? A spy?"

To his credit, Hound did not move, the hologram never wavering.

"Stupid Autoscum." One of the other seekers jeered. "That puny attempt to hide would do better if your faction ID wasn't broadcasting your worthless existence."

"Agh." The first one spit. "I don't want to waste my time. Enough of the games."

Prowl watched, his vents hitching as the seeker raised his arm, its components shifting around to form a plasma cannon, which he fired several times into the holographic illusion. On the second shot, the hologram wavered and then flicked off. Prowl watched helplessly as Hound transformed back into base bode only to fall to one knee, clutching at his other leg where bright blue energon was oozing from between his fingers.

The landed Seeker laughed. "Get him back to base. We'll let the other ground-pounders deal with this piece of filth."

"Why don't we just kill 'im now?" The third one demanded. "Put 'im outta his misery like the animal he is?"

The first one, obviously the trine's leader growled at his wing mate. "You idiot. If he's way out here he must have known to come looking. They need to find out just how much he knows. Then they'll kill him."

"Oh. Right." The indicated mech made a shrugging gesture and then, so quickly Prowl could not follow exactly what happened, the leader stepped forward. He was airborn again in the same smooth movement, Hound gripped tightly in his hands.

Prowl watched in mounting helpless frustration as the four figures quickly disappeared within the Decepticon camp. He slowly pushed himself away from the outcropping that had protected him, staring in the direction Hound had been taken, his processor spinning.

Through it all, Hound had not said a single thing. He had not broken cover in response to their insults. He had not even screamed in pain. Nor had be even attempted to contact Prowl, maintaining the strict radio silence he had reminded Prowl to observe. It was the only way to help protect Prowl and whether it was done for that purpose alone or because the scout had known that his only hope of rescue was if Prowl was not also taken captive, Prowl could not help but respect the strength and self-control those acts had required.

And he would rescue Hound. Prowl knew that. He knew what Decepticons did to their prisoners and no one deserved that, especially a mech whom his processors considered an ally. He did not even need his revamped ethical programming to make that decision.

He would rescue Hound and, barring that, he would at least retrieve his empty frame. Or he would himself die in the attempt. While he might not normally take it to that extent, he knew that if he were to return to Iacon empty handed, it would be better for him to not return at all.

First Aid's soft but emotion-laden words, whispered to him while the young medic was unlocking his systems, echoed again in Prowl's processor. "Hound is good at what he does, and he is liked and respected by a lot of mechs here. You better hope he makes it back whole."

Whether or not the junior medic was speaking a threat for himself or as a warning to Prowl it did not matter, though Prowl had a hard time imagining it was a threat. Either way, Prowl felt some of the tension in his processors ease as his tactical computer finally presented him with the most likely plan that would let him rescue Hound and a number of variations based on different scenarios.

It was risky, and held far too many possible complications, but it was the best he had. As far as rescue missions went, it would be Prowl's first and he hoped he could carry it out.

Unfortunately it depended entirely on not just the Decepticons believing him, but on Hound trusting him as well.

… … …

Prowl waited for another joor, hating himself the whole time but knowing it was necessary for his ruse to work, and then made his way toward the main entrance to the Decepticon camp, moving with casual deliberateness and not the frantic pace he would have preferred to use. The journey took yet another joor.

Hound had been in captivity for two joors. Prowl hoped it had not been too long already.

He drove confidently to the gate as if he expected it to open for him without hesitation. When he was confronted by the guard, he transformed, lifting his chin imperiously.

"I am here to interrogate the Autobot scum." He sneered at the two mechs blocking his path. "Move aside."

One of the guards growled low and threatening. "Yeah? And what are your authorization codes?"

Prowl's optics narrowed slightly and then he moved. Faster than the guard knew what had happened Prowl had the mech who had questioned him pinned against the ground, an energon dagger pressed against a vital energon feed to his processor.

"This is my authorization." He let his own engine growl angrily. "Any more questions?"

The other guard shifted nervously. "Oh, no, no. Um… Come this way, sir."

Prowl allowed himself to smirk as he pushed the unfortunate guard into the ground again for emphasis before standing. Keeping in character he gave the now trembling heap of metal a swift kick for good measure and then followed after the second guard.

Thank Primus for dumb recruits. Though that in itself was a valuable piece of intelligence in that it was standard Decepticon policy to station the more imbecile of their ranks to remote, rather peripheral and unimportant outposts.

Prowl followed the guard, letting his doorwings record as much information about the interior of the camp as possible without making it obvious he was doing so. They entered the detention area and it was almost just as open as the rest of the camp. Not only was it not sound proofed, it was open and visible to anyone who happened to be close enough to see it. The walls of the cell Hound was being held in were little more than a cage, with Hound bound to a stool in its center much like Prowl had initially been bound in Iacon's detention area.

"Do you not have a sound-proofed interrogation room?" Prowl asked as they came to a stop outside the cell.

Inside, Hound was staring at him with wide optics, though the scout remained silent. Prowl could only assume what was going through the other mech's processors.

"Nope." The guard negligently flicked the bars, then straightened nervously, glancing at Prowl. "I mean, no sir. This is it."

Slag. Very well, move on to plan 2.2B.

He forced himself to shrug as if it were no big deal and moved to the cell door. "Enjoy the show then."

The look on Hound's faceplate morphed into hurt tinged with horror: betrayal. Prowl forced himself to ignore the look, glancing back at the guard. "Though we may have to move him to a more appropriate setting before I am done."

"What setting… um, sir?" The guard asked, his near glee in what was about to come clear.

"The med bay." Prowl said tonelessly and stepped into the doorway.

"Why?" The guard demanded. "He's just a lowly scout. Surely he don't know anything tha…"

Prowl snapped his gaze back to the guard, grinding his words between clenched denta. "You know nothing. Back to your duties!"

The guard squeaked but hastily retreated, though not without a backward, almost longing look at Hound.

Releasing his heated intake through his vents Prowl turned back to the rather delicate task that lay ahead of him. He looked at Hound and stepped toward the Autobot.

Knowing he had not only listeners, but that his every move could be seen by the small audience that was even now forming, he sneered, filling his voice with disgust he did not feel. "So, Autobot, it appears that we will get to have quality time together after all."

Hound did not reply, but his expression slowly morphed from shocked disbelief to anger. Prowl slowly circled Hound and reached forward to furtively, if crudely, reconnect the wires controlling his short-range internal comm. As painful as it had to be for Hound, Prowl was glad the metal covering those circuits had been pried away; it was the only thing that made it possible for him to restore the systems. Once that was done he set to hacking the controls of the magnetic locks holding the scout to the stool. Until that was done, they weren't going anywhere.

Unfortunately, it meant he had to keep up the act until he could hack the signal.

Continuing his menacing circle he sent Hound a tight transmission. /Don't speak. Continue to act defiant. How badly injured are you?/

Hound blinked, then his optics narrowed, the anger in his gaze blazing hotly. "What do you care, 'Con?" The words were spit.

Slag. Hound was not trusting him. It did not matter, he would do what he needed to regardless.

He paced around again, sneering. "Oh, I care because I have been waiting a long time for this." Simultaneously he transmitted. /They believe I am here to interrogate you. Ignore my spoken words; they are for their audios only. How badly injured are you?/

Hound blinked again, then he growled. "Go suck slag!" Likewise he also transmitted a tight comm. to Prowl. /What do you think you are doing?/

/Getting you out./ Prowl grinned evilly. /I have called for back up, but first we have to give them a good show. Are you able to transform?/ "Ooh, this is going to be fun. What are the codes for Iacon base?"

/I can./ Hound confirmed slowly, suspicion clear in his voice though nothing was betrayed outwardly. /They severed some tension wires, but as a scout I have several redundancies for those systems./

"This is your last chance, Autoscum. What are the codes?" Prowl leaned forward, reaching for Hound's throat. /Do you trust me?/

/No. But I don't really have much of a choice, do I?/ Hound asked, though on the outside he sneered. "Go to pit, 'Con."

/Not really…/ Prowl paused, truly regretting what he was about to do. His ethical program rebelled and only permitted the actions because it was the only way to save Hound's life. /I am sorry. I give you my word, I will submit to whatever disciplinary measures you deem appropriate for what I am about to do./

Prowl saw Hound's optics widen slightly as realization struck, but did not give him any more warning before he forced a snarl onto his own faceplate and back-handed Hound. The blow was strong enough to cause substantial cosmetic damage, but nothing actually debilitating.

Truly disliking himself for doing so, Prowl punched Hound, this time in the abdominal plating. Air gusted out of the olive green mech's vents, but again, the damage was superficial even if the results looked much more serious.

Prowl delivered several more blows before he was satisfied that Hound looked damaged enough to make the next part of his plan possible. He only hoped Hound would be willing to cooperate.

/I need you to make it sound like I'm ripping your arm off this time. I promise, this is the last./ He could not tell if Hound believed him, but the Autobot did let out a static laced scream the next time Prowl hit him.

Prowl drew back then, circling Hound, pulling out his energon dagger and surreptitiously slicing most of the way through the stasis cuffs binding Hound. It was not enough that they fell to the ground, but it did short the power supply and made it possible for Hound to get loose. Likewise, he finally managed to override the magnetic lock, releasing Hound.

He put a hand briefly on Hound's shoulder. /Wait for the opportune moment. Act like you are barely online./ "Guards!"

As he waited for the dimwitted Decepticons to come running, he databurst Hound all the information he had managed to glean about the base's layout and personnel. Then he circled back around to stand by the cell door.

"Get this piece of filth to whatever passes for a medical bay in this dump. I want him patched up enough he won't offline prematurely. I am not done with him yet."

Hound shifted as the Decepticons entered the cell. /Wait for it./ Prowl sent him urgently as he moved even closer to the cell door, positioning himself closer to the mech who was just standing there watching Hound with disgusting attentiveness

Hound's engine revved but he otherwise continued to expertly play the roll of severely damaged prisoner even as he was surrounded by the four Decepticons from their audience who had answered Prowl's call.

/Now!/

Prowl moved at the exact same time Hound did, felling two of the Decepticons before they even knew anything was happening. Then he reached through the bars, grabbing the one mech who was standing there watching by the collar strut and yanking him faceplate first into the metal bars that separated them. Energon spilled from the crushed plating, dripping onto Prowl's arm. Another forced face-plant into the metal and red optics winked out.

Prowl then turned his attention to one of the mechs Hound had managed to put on the ground as the dusty orange mech was struggling back onto his knees. A quick stab with the energon blade and he was down again. Permanently.

Prowl straightened, turning to see Hound approaching with malice in every line of his frame.

Prowl subspaced his dagger and dipped his doorwings slightly, respectfully, speaking softly. "Might I suggest waiting until we are out of the Decepticon camp, sir?"

Hound growled darkly, but he did pause. "I suggest you get us out quickly."

Prowl nodded, then moved swiftly to Hound's side as the Autobot wavered slightly. He was roughly pushed away when he reached out to steady him. He let his doorwings dip slightly and, seeing Hound had regained his balance, led him out of the cell. Thankfully it was the night shift – meaning they had already taken out the majority of the mechs actually online – and the detention area was located relatively close to the camp perimeter and was more or less isolated. The fact that no more Decepticons came running indicated they had managed to take their opponents out before an alarm could be raised.

They slipped out of the camp relatively easy, with Prowl only having to take out one sentry. Once far enough away that their engines would not disturb the recharging camp, they both transformed and raced into the silent landscape as quickly as Hound was able.

They had to travel as far away from the camp as possible, in the most direct line available, and then loop around in a wide arc that would take them toward Iacon without bringing them back too close to the enemy camp. Once they were angled back toward Iacon two joors had passed. Prowl continued to lead their retreat until they were far enough away that he considered the risk of pursuit finding them to be low enough to hazard stopping.

He slowed, sweeping the area again with his sensors, and then pulled into a relatively secluded area where someone would have to be actively looking for them in order to find them. It offered a touch of privacy if not actual safety.

Hound had maintained an angry, brooding silence since they had left the camp and Prowl knew that now that they were in a safe enough location, it was his turn to keep to the promise he had given Hound.

Resigning himself to whatever was going to happen, Prowl transformed and turned his body slightly to face Hound. He kept his posture submissive; holding to his word to accept whatever discipline Hound chose to mete out.

Hound transformed as well, limping slightly as severed tension wires and the original damage to his leg combined with the wear and tear caused by their hasty retreat, weakening him. Even so, he stalked toward Prowl, the anger that had been frothing under the surface, finally reaching the boiling point.

Prowl waited silently, his gaze slightly lowered dutifully and focused on a neutral point on the ground some distance away, as Hound laboriously closed the distance between them.

He grunted but did not move when Hound landed a punch across his faceplate that shattered his olfactory sensor. Even as energon began streaming down his face, Prowl did not move. He did not attempt to avoid the natural follow-through from that strike which was an armored elbow banging into his jaw with enough force to crack the hinge.

Prowl staggered slightly under the strength of that last blow hissing as the damage sent white-hot pokers through his sensory grid. But other than regaining his balance he did not move. He had suffered numerous such disciplinary assaults under Megatron's command – none of which had been for such serious offenses and knew more was coming. Attempting to avoid it would only make it worse.

He waited for the next strike, knowing that as he had attacked a commanding officer that Hound was well within his rights to do whatever he wanted for that infraction. And Prowl was now constrained by programming, duty and honor not to resist.

Hound lifted his hand to strike again, but the instability cause by his injuries made him waver, his damaged leg buckling. Without hesitating, Prowl shot out his arm to catch the scout before he could fall. As before, Hound pushed away from him roughly. But when all Prowl did was release his grip, returning to his open, submissive stance, Hound paused. Blue optics glanced from Prowl to the place on his armor the tactician had grabbed to prevent him from crashing to the ground.

When Hound's engine revved deeply again, Prowl quickly averted his gaze, waiting for the scout to continue.

To Prowl's surprise, Hound backed off, his cerulean optics flicking over Prowl's frame. The Praxian could tell that the scout's anger had not truly abated and surprise over the other mech's lack of continued aggression caused him to look at Hound again, this time in silent question.

"That was for the faceplate." Hound growled at him.

Prowl lowered his gaze slightly. "My apologies, Hound. If I could have thought of a better way, I would have."

Hound shook his head, armor flaring, but he stepped backward again. "You did get me out, I guess that should count for something. Besides, as much as I want to beat the slag out of you, there are regulations that cover issues like this."

Prowl confirmed that, quietly stating. "There are, and as the field commander, they give you the authority to deal with such a situation as you see fit."

Hound's optics hardened and he opened his mouth as if to speak, then changed his mind. With another rev of his engine he stepped toward Prowl again, challengingly though there was an odd lilt to the mech's words. "You are coming back with me. The Prime will deal with this"

"I will come willingly." Prowl assured him quickly, though he was increasingly uncomfortable with the look in the other mech's optics. "I…"

"Shut up!" Hound barked. "I don't want to hear your voice right now."

Prowl saw the tiny shudder work through Hound's frame and realized the scout was more traumatized by his capture and what Prowl had done than he had expected. A brief troll of his memory banks confirmed that, at least to his knowledge, Hound had never been captured before. He also remembered clearly the look of betrayal when Hound had first seen him outside his cell and that only helped feed the growing sense of guilt his ethical programming was plaguing him with for having assaulted the other mech. Even if it had been for a good cause. Even if it was the best available choice. Even if it was the only available choice.

It was illogical, but that did not stop the conflict from existing or the processor ache that conflict caused. With a resigned sigh of air through his systems, Prowl acknowledged Hound's order with a deferential nod.

Hound considered him for a long moment and then ordered him to move out, pointing in clear indication he expected Prowl to take point again.

Prowl acknowledged the order silently and folded himself into his alt mode. Once Hound had done likewise he led them back through the maze of metal outcroppings and twisted paths until they could reach a main thoroughfare into Iacon.

Hound had let him off lightly. Prowl knew that. The regulations gave mission commanders a great deal of leeway in dealing with soldiers who dared attack their superiors, mitigating circumstances or not. And he was not even an Autobot soldier. Hound could have chosen to overlook the situation entirely… or he could have decided to extinguish his spark. Or anything in between. Such was the discretion left to field commanders.

He had expected worse than what he had gotten. But Hound had decided to defer judgment in this case to the Autobot central command. That introduced a whole new set of variables to the equation, some of which Prowl was not able to predict.

Would the Prime see any justification for his actions in the context of the situation? Or would Optimus decide he had gone too far and had betrayed the minuscule amount of trust he had been given? His spark wanted to hope, to believe the best. But he had nothing to base such hope on besides one sparring match, and that had been a match the Prime had initiated. He doubted such magnanimity would carry over in this situation. At least not until they got all the facts, until they saw the variables and the hundreds of calculations he had made to determine the best course of action.

His spark wanted to trust that the Prime would seek justice, not just punishment. That trust had not been in vain yet, perhaps it was still safe to rest in it.

He had to hope, at the very least, that they would do a processor scan before assigning him a permanent punishment.

If not, or until then, he accepted the reality that he had probably earned himself a reversion to full POW status, minus the parole. He would only know for sure once they were back within the safe confines of Iacon base.


I know, this chapter is a little shorter than many of the others, but it was either chop it here or end up with one that was so unwieldy long I wouldn't be able to edit it in a timely or efficient manner. Actually, it isn't that short... it's just over 7,000 words! It just seems short to me I guess, don't know why... Not that you guys aren't used to little cliffhangers with this story, right? *Evil, maniacal cackle* :)

As always, please leave a review.