Sorry for the delay, everyone. That was really mean to leave you guys on a cliff-hanger like that for that long. Honestly, I did not mean to. Real-life just kinda threw a hard-ball at me. I started a second job last week (as in yes, now I have two jobs) and I started school last week as well. One of the classes I am taking is a writing class so… yeah. Direct competition with Fan Fiction. But if you think about it… three weeks isn't that bad for only having roughly 15-30 minutes a day to write, type and edit 7,000 words plus.

In fact, due to restraints on my time and how long it took me to finish this chapter, I have to admit this chapter has not seen the TLC most of them do. So, if you happen to see any glaring and horrible grammatical/spelling errors, please make me aware of them.

Alright, enough of that. Onward with the story:


"From what we can tell Prowl, you were the last one to see them before they were assaulted."

Inferno's words echoed in Prowl's audios as he sucked in a sharp vent, his doorwings flicking violently as he registered exactly what those words meant, his history as an Enforcer painting the picture quite vividly.

He took an astrosecond to regain control of himself, to mask all evidence of his reaction. He kept his posture carefully respectful and open.

"I see." Looking around, Prowl saw that while some of the mechs were wary or suspicious, a good number appeared to at least want to give him the benefit of the doubt. It was more than he would have hoped for if his own suspicions were correct.

He focused back on the three security mechs confronting him. "Unfortunately I can not tell you more than that they were both online and fully functional when I last saw them."

Inferno and Viper exchanged looks while Red Alert eyed him suspiciously. It was enough to tell Prowl there was more that had yet to be said; more that had a high probability of being incriminating against him.

But he had been an Enforcer for just under fifty decavorns. He was not ignorant as to what was happening. In fact, he was surprised he was not already incarcerated.

Smokescreen, also an experienced Enforcer, shifted to place himself further between Prowl and the three security mechs. There was a detectible snarl in his voice. "Trust me. If Prowl had wanted to offline the Twins, they would not still be alive. But he wouldn't…"

Prowl stepped up beside Smokescreen, putting a hand on the younger tactician's arm to still his protests. "No one has made such an accusation yet, Smokescreen." He looked at Red Alert. "However, it does stand to reason that, at this time, I am your most likely suspect. Am I correct?"

"Yes." Red Alert's fingers twitched as if he were thinking about going for his weapon or stasis cuffs. Thankfully he did neither. "Our only suspect, actually."

The various security mechs in the med bay tensed, watching Prowl warily while the medical staff looked on nervously.

Prowl did not allow himself to move at all. That he was their only suspect, when he had absolutely nothing to do with it, either bespoke a well thought out set-up or blinding bias on part of the investigators. His tactical computers whirred fully to life, cross-referencing the available information, as he tried to figure out what exactly was happening. Unfortunately, he was missing a good deal of important, relevant data.

But he remembered how paranoid Red Alert had been that one time when he had tried to arrest him for 'wandering the halls' without an escort early in his integration. Everything he had said had been taken out of context and it was critical that not happen this time, not if the stakes were as high as he was beginning to suspect.

He knew he needed to handle this carefully and that resolving it would probably not be entirely pleasant.

He looked at Red Alert and ducked his helm deferentially. "I will cooperate fully with your investigation. However, I was an Enforcer for nearly fifty decavorns. Perhaps I can help you determine the true culprit."

Ratchet stepped closer then, positioning himself perpendicular to both the two tacticians and the three security mechs but not truly between them. "It couldn't hurt."

Ratchet's tone was the epitome of reasonableness.

Red Alert seemed to think about considering the offer only to shake his helm quickly. Prowl could almost see the paranoia switch get thrown in the mech's processor.

His suspicions were proven correct as soon as the Security Director spoke. "He could also use the opportunity as a chance to cover his own tracks."

Prowl's optics widened and the gears in his denta ground faintly as Smokescreen's engine revved loudly. His apprentice's doorwings hiked upward in visible display of his anger even as he started to speak. "You…"

Quickly, Prowl stopped Smokescreen again, his hand tightening on his arm. Almost shaking with the depth of his anger, Smokescreen controlled his temper.

Prowl took the opportunity and spoke into the tense silence, keeping his gaze focused on Red Alert and respectful. "May I at least see the evidence already accrued against me? Perhaps once I am able to exonerate myself you will feel more comfortable in allowing me to assist your efforts."

Red Alert just blinked and Inferno looked at Prowl thoughtfully before turning to his boss. "He as a right to review the evidence against him, sir."

After another moment Red Alert nodded.

Taking his cue, Inferno handed Prowl a datapad. Prowl took it with a grateful dip of his helm before focusing on its screen. Smokescreen stepped closer to examine it as well, their shoulder armor brushing with a casual familiarity that surprised most of the mechs watching the interaction. It was enough like their days back in Praxus that Prowl felt a faint pang in his processor but he pushed it away in order to focus.

Apparently the Twins had been found in a mangled mess mere joors before Prowl and Smokescreen had been summoned, crammed into a storage closet on the level just above the training rooms. They had been barely on line. The damage had been consistent with sharp bladed weapons and the images accompanying the report showed that they had already been substantially cleaned up and partially repaired. Their attacker had been swift and skilled: a trained fighter in the martial arts at the very least. The damage done to the two front line warriors was such that they were still too unstable to bring out of medical stasis and were likely to remain that way for several more orns at least.

Security footage in the area that the Twins were found in was useless, as the evidence showed they had clearly been tampered with, some of the time logs indicating a hack and complete deletion of a given time segment with an artificial one pieced into the original file. To Prowl's tactical mind the two things did not fit, in that the assault had been professional and brutal, but the cover-up had the feel of something intentionally amateur and incomplete. Especially because the last clear datafile showing the Twins in operational condition was from the training room they had confronted him in. It showed the moment Sunstreaker had decided to attack him and ended in a blip of static when Prowl had finally taken the upstart Twin down.

Prowl tapped a finger on the back of the datapad thoughtfully as he mulled over what step he should take next.

Smokescreen, however, snarled at the security director. "You think that in trying to defend himself, Prowl lost control and did that to them?" He pointed at the mangled frames lying on the med berths.

Red Alert stiffened at the clearly derisive tone in the white and gray Praxian's voice. "It is not beyond the realm of possibility. Especially because, apparently, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had recently uncovered evidence of emotional instability in him. Isn't that correct, Prowl?"

Prowl frowned, choosing his words carefully. "They did seem sure I would show evidence of instability. I remember they were quite disappointed when they did not get it."

"So they attacked you." Red Alert concluded assuredly.

"Sunstreaker attacked me." Prowl shook his helm, wondering when and how the conversation had gone from the possibility that he had assaulted the Twins to a discussion about his… glitch.

"Wait!" Ratchet nearly exploded, glaring at Red Alert. "They found 'evidence' Prowl was emotionally unstable?"

Red Alert nodded, gaining confidence. "According to the mechs they spoke with last, yes. And they were determined to prove it."

Ratchet's engine growled low and menacingly. "The little cretins! They were the ones who hacked my medical records. It has to be them."

Inferno's optics were wide as he glanced nervously between CMO and stiffly standing Prowl. "Wait… you mean there is some basis to their claims?"

Ratchet started to protest, then abruptly looked at Prowl, silently asking for permission to share privileged medical information. Prowl recognized the look and appreciated the consideration it represented. But his tactical computer had finally given him the best course of action and he knew he needed to regain control of the conversation, even if its end was still inevitable.

Prowl looked at the Security Director and his Second. "There was a critical conflict between my emotional and logic centers. But it is not an instability as such – and especially not one that would cause me to lose control in such a fashion."

Inferno frowned, though it appeared to be more out of genuine concern rather than accusation. "How can you be so sure?"

Prowl grimaced, painfully aware of how many audios were listening to this conversation. "Because the only thing it can do is make me crash."

There was a moment of silence as every mech took that in. Smokescreen, Ratchet and First Aid looked pained, while the others – those who were previously unaware of the details – ranged from surprised to troubled.

Smokescreen broke the awkward silence, his voice more subdued but no less intense as he indicated the datapad Prowl still held. "Besides, if Prowl had done that, he would not have been so careless as to leave the most damning part of the feed untouched. This is clearly a set up."

Red Alert's armor bristled and he glanced between Prowl and Smokescreen, though he addressed Smokescreen. "That is conjecture. The rest of us don't know that for sure. He is still our only suspect."

Smokescreen's engine revved and he took a step toward Red Alert, but Prowl's hand landed on his arm again, tightening. When the younger Praxian looked back at him with consternation, Prowl addressed him quietly, though he was aware the other mechs could hear him as well.

"They are right to at least be suspicious, you know that. As I am a former Decepticon it is only natural."

Smokescreen shook his helm. "That isn't how Autobot justice works."

Prowl nodded. "I know. But there are some in my former faction who would not hesitate to do something like this were they in my place."

"That only makes it more likely that it is a set up." Smokescreen's engine made a quiet, distressed noise.

"I know." Prowl affirmed. "But first we must allay these suspicions. Technically, I am still on my probationary period."

Prowl could see the struggle in his apprentice's faceplate, felt a similar struggle in his own spark, but brushed it aside for the more important goal of finding out what had truly happened and why. Finally, he saw Smokescreen's acceptance of what they both knew was coming, reluctant as that acceptance was. He also saw Smokescreen relinquish his attempts to control the situation.

Prowl let his doorwings flick in silent acknowledgement and gratitude for what Smokescreen had tried to do for him. Perhaps, in time, should such a situation arise again, such intervention would be enough.

He looked at Red Alert. "What do you wish of me?"

Red Alert blinked, as did Inferno and Viper and a handful of the other security and medical personnel. Only Ratchet, First Aid and Smokescreen reacted differently, their engines whined in worry and distress. They recognized the depth of the offer he was making, the personal cost he was willing to pay.

Red Alert spoke thoughtfully, gaze roving from Prowl to the unconscious twins and back. "Neither of the Twins are stable enough to question, let alone get a reading off their memory cache, and won't be for orns. That leaves you."

Prowl nodded, the stiffness in the gesture the only outward sign of his reluctance. He had hoped the time of processor scans was past, but he knew that, legally, he was still required to submit to them if requested for the remaining vorn of his probation, despite what Jazz had said.

"Understood." He told the security chief, readying himself mentally for the procedure.

But Red Alert grimaced. "Unfortunately from your initial interrogation we know that your firewalls are easily class five defenses and only a handful of mechs on this base are qualified to scan a mech with that level of firewalls. At least for official purposes."

Prowl shook his helm, narrowing his optics on the bright red mech, but kept his voice calm. "You know the parameters of my ethical programming?"

Nodding warily, Red Alert's own optics narrowed in response to Prowl's and the former Enforcer belatedly realized the zealous security mech had taken even that tiny gesture as a challenge.

He forced his frame to relax a fraction. "I gave you my word to cooperate fully with your investigation. I will do so."

Ratchet released a frustrated sigh of air and stepped forward. "I will scan him."

Looking over at the CMO, Red Alert shook his helm. "I'm sorry, Ratchet. You are too close and are already on record as saying that it could not be Prowl. Same thing with First Aid."

"Then what do you suggest?" Ratchet asked caustically.

"Well… Jazz isn't on base at the moment and Blaster already said he wouldn't do it because of what happened the last time he did a scan of a defected Decepticon. Another medic could do it with…"

"I will do it."

The barely audible, very timid voice made everyone look at the young, green medic who had spoken.

Under their combined scrutiny, Patch took a hesitant step forward, looked nervously at Prowl and then focused on Red Alert. "I… will scan him."

Prowl blinked in his own surprise at the clearly intimidated medic. Patch still flinched whenever he had to touch him during one of their training sessions. That moment of tentative boldness the previous orn during Bluestreak's upgrade had been a good step, this was almost a leap and it was one Patch was clearly not sure he was ready to take.

"You are not even a full decavorn out of the medical academy, Patch." Red Alert contested.

Patch had shifted his gaze to Prowl and, seeing something in the Praxian's posture or optics that gave him more courage, the junior medic shook his helm, focusing again on the security director. "But I am a medic and Prowl did say he'd cooperate. He should at least be given the opportunity to prove as much."

Ratchet nodded. "Patch is capable of doing this scan."

Red Alert hesitated a moment longer, his processor spinning to find any additional objections and then he gave a reluctant nod.

Patch looked back at Prowl and, though the medic kept his spinal struts stiff, Prowl could tell that his nervousness suddenly spiked. Then the younger mech drew himself up, speaking formally.

"Th… this way, please." He gestured to a nearby berth and Prowl knew there would be no privacy for this scan.

But then that was to be expected; the results of such scans were a matter of public record and as such the procedure itself was not considered a private matter. This Prowl knew from his time as an Enforcer.

Prowl followed Patch's unspoken directions and lowered himself to the berth without outward reaction, choosing to take up an identical posture to that which he had initially assumed when First Aid had wanted him restrained for repairs. He watched as Patch reached for the controls to magnetize the berth only to hesitate, glancing up at him with guilt tinting the edges of his faceplate.

The tactician nodded silent permission and encouragement to the increasingly anxious medic. As edgy as Patch was, Prowl accepted that he would have a splitting processor ache by the time the orn was over.

Still hesitant, Patch triggered the magnetic locks, trapping him to the berth. Interestingly, the tension in some of the mechs in the room diminished palpably as soon as that happened, while it ratcheted upwards in others.

Prowl nodded again, this time indicating his acceptance of the restraints, knowing it was standard procedure for inexperienced mechs performing a scan as well as for security-commissioned scans. This one fit both criteria. Wordlessly, he granted access to his port.

Patch glanced from the exposed hardware to Prowl's optics and Prowl saw near panic in them. He did not think that it was entirely due to him; the medic's quick, darting glances to those watching them suggesting the other cause.

Keeping his tone carefully respectful, as befitting the situation and what Patch was about to do, Prowl sent him a private comm.. /There is no need for you to be so nervous. I will not make this difficult for you./

/They are watching./ There was even a faint tremor in Patch's digital voice.

Prowl sought the younger mech's optics. /Focus on me, just as you would a gravely injured patient. They will likely not judge you as harshly as you judge yourself. Most of them are probably more grateful they are not the ones about to do this than anything else./

That won a nervous, half-hearted chuckle of air and a weak cough of Patch's engine. But the tightness across his shoulders relaxed. Then, pressing his lip plates together, Patch slid his cord into Prowl's port.

As the automatic synchronization process took over, Prowl shuttered his optics, relaxing against the restraints holding him all but immobilized. His doorwings flicked downward, telegraphing his cooperation with the medic now synched with his processor.

The medic was tense enough that Prowl knew this was not going to be pleasant, but Patch was young enough, and low ranking enough that he doubted he had done many such scans before. And of those he had done, it would have been a safe bet that none of them were as high profile as this. The fear of failing in such a public venue only added to the young mech's internal stress.

Prowl waited for the medic to regain himself before asking politely, /Will you trust me to give you the files you are looking for or do you prefer to search for them yourself?/

Patch blinked. /I…/ Then, with a tiny shake of his helm, he spoke out loud; for the record. "Prowl, show me your memory files of the time in question."

Prowl bowed his helm formally speaking verbally as well, appreciating that Patch was making the effort to have his cooperation included as part of the official documents of the proceedings. "Yes, Medic."

Concentrating briefly, Prowl lowered the outermost layers of his firewalls – not enough to allow actual access to his processor, but enough to let the medic 'see' what was behind them. Then, obligingly, Prowl lit up the pathways to the requested files and granted access to them.

Patch's heightened nervousness meant that his mental touch felt like it was accompanied by thousands of tiny blades. Not enough to truly harm him, but enough to make it very uncomfortable.

Prowl's internal wince was instinctual, even though it never made it to his outward expression.

Patch felt it though. /I'm sorry. I… I should not be the one doing this…/

/But you are./ Prowl pointed out gently. /Complete the scan, Patch. Take as much time as you need./

Patch's optics widened, his surprise at being ordered to finish the scan filtering through the one sided connection. /Yes, sir./

It was halting at first, Patch's mental touch still marked by anxiety. But thankfully, once he was into his task, his focus precluded his worry and the added edge to his scan faded.

Finishing at nearly triple the speed he had started with, Patch started to withdraw and disconnect but Prowl stopped him with a gentle ping. /You are doing this scan commissioned by Security. Transmit the results and see if it is sufficient before disconnecting./

Patch ducked his helm at the reminder, /Right… um. I knew that. Thanks./

The young medic looked at Red Alert, managing to keep the sheepishness Prowl felt through their connection out of his voice. "My report, Red Alert. Do you need anything else?"

Red Alert's optics, in turn, widened as he processed the report. Internally he was battling innate suspicion of the former Decepticon – whom he did not know personally – and the inescapable evidence that his only available suspect was clearly not guilty.

The scarlet mech's engine revved and his hand twitched again. "He… he could have manipulated the scan."

Inferno, who had been watching Prowl carefully the whole time, snapped his gaze to his department commander. "Sir…"

Red Alert glanced at his Second and shrugged, sounding defensive. "Well, he could have. He has the skills to do so."

"Red!" Ratchet exploded at the mech in question, gesturing wildly. "Get your helm out of your aft. He gave his word to cooperate. You know as well as I that he fragging couldn't manipulate the scan: His own ethical programming wouldn't let him, even if he wanted to."

Prowl felt a brush of relief at the medic's words, the confidence and support implied, even though he noted that many of the lower ranking mechs startled at hearing them.

Red Alert stepped back, signaling by body language he was standing down from his accusations. "Yeah. You're right, I suppose." He flinched as he met Prowl's still impassively and uncannily patient gaze. "My… um… apologies, Prowl."

Dipping his helm yet not attempting to move from the berth he was still magnetized to, Prowl answered respectfully. "I am relieved I was able to help lay your suspicions to rest."

Clearing his vents, Red Alert gestured toward the door of the med bay, looking almost pained if not a little nervous. "Um… You mentioned being willing to help us figure out who did do it?"

Prowl again nodded his acquiescence, internally pleased by this turn in events. Then he looked at the junior medic still standing uneasily in front of him; still synched with his processor. He spoke gently. "Patch?"

Patch's optics widened and he was stammering, his original nervousness flooding back stronger than before. "Oh… right. S… sorry!"

Movements made clumsy in his anxiety Patch hastily withdrew from Prowl's mind and fumbled for his cord with trembling hands while simultaneously demagnetizing the berth.

Hiding a smile at the young mech's sudden discomfiture, Prowl caught the green hand as it removed the interface cord. That made Patch lift his optics in concern from where he had dropped them with embarrassment.

"You did well, Patch." Prowl said quietly, dropping the medic's hand, not wanting to add to his stress. "And under a good deal of pressure. You have nothing to be self-conscious about."

Patch smiled weakly in thanks. The expression was shy, just like Bluestreak was at times, but it was genuine.

Prowl allowed a hint of a smile in reassurance then slipped off the berth, looking at Smokescreen. "Sir?"

Smokescreen's doorwings flinched as he tended to do when Prowl called him 'sir', then he nodded. "Yeah. Go help them as much as you can. I'll go back to tactical."

Prowl acknowledged that then cast a grateful look at Ratchet and First Aid that, while not openly expressive, conveyed at least a touch of his appreciation for how they tried to help him. Then he followed Red Alert and Inferno out of the med bay, immensely glad that he was doing so as a colleague, not a prisoner.

Once his mentor had left with Red Alert and Inferno, Smokescreen's gaze was drawn back to Ratchet, who was now looking somewhat discomfited. He cocked an optic ridge and the CMO huffed.

"How can Prowl say that Patch did a good job?" The question was genuinely curious, not accusatory, which relieved Smokescreen.

He smiled at the medics and handful of security mechs who were waiting for the answer. "Do you remember how he said once that he knew I knew enough to be able to get out of his processor what I needed to if I didn't trust his report? Back when he and Ironhide discovered the first safe-house?"

Ratchet nodded. "Yes. And?"

Smokescreen indicated the door his 'provisional' second in command had just left through. "He is the one who taught me to do basic interrogations early in my apprenticeship. He… uh… he had me practice on him."

The medics glanced at each other. Smokescreen had no way of knowing they were, to a mech, considering how Prowl would have them test new defense skills they had learned on him to see if they had mastered a move sufficiently.

First Aid was the first to release a soft chuckle, shaking his helm. "Somehow, I wouldn't expect anything else."

Patch nodded, his expression more solemn, however, before his gaze dropped back to the berth Prowl had sat on for that scan.

He had been scared, terrified even, to synch his processor with Prowl's, one-sided connection not withstanding. He knew there would have been no way for him to retrieve the data had Prowl decided to fight; he had felt the power of the mind he had been scanning. But he had been growing restless, if not envious, watching the easy trust that existed between First Aid and the former Decepticon; the trust that was developing between Ratchet, Jolt and Prowl. He was growing tired of always flinching in fear whenever Prowl had to touch him in one of their lessons even when he knew Prowl would not hurt him.

Just letting it go, hoping it would go away, had not worked so he had decided to take a more proactive step when he got the opportunity. He had not expected an opportunity to present itself quite so readily.

Prowl had been through enough scans lately that the mech had to have known what his high levels of anxiety would do to him, the added discomfort that would cause. Yet he had assumed the role of a teacher and had all but coached him through the process.

It stunned Patch; just remembering the incident left him unsure how to express how it had affected him.

One thing the young medic did know, as he turned back to helping Ratchet fix the Twins, was that he now knew, deep in his spark, that Prowl was not a mech he should fear. Respect, yes. But tremble in his armor whenever the tactician even spoke to him? No.

He felt someone watching him and looked over to see First Aid smiling faintly.

"What?" Patch asked, huffing air at realizing his private contemplations must have showed on his face.

"Now you know how I felt when he let me work on his doorwings." Then the white and red medic buried his attention and hands in Sideswipe's internals.

… … …

Prowl did not venture to speak to the Security Director until they had almost made it the central security control room. He spoke softly, trying not to startle the already jumpy Red Alert.

"I suspect our assailant was a Decepticon infiltrator."

Inferno, who was walking next to Prowl, just behind his commanding officer, looked over at him with wide optics. "How so?"

"If this was indeed a bid to frame me for the assault, we must consider what the result would have been had it succeeded." Prowl answered, hoping to be able to guide their reasoning along the same path his and Smokescreen's had gone immediately.

Inferno's optic ridges furrowed as he thought. "You would have been taken into custody, held in the brig until the investigation was complete and then whatever the punishment might have been."

"Return to POW status and forced stasis at best." Red Alert piped up, not looking at Prowl. "execution for treason at worst."

"Indeed." Prowl acknowledged calmly, reminding himself neither of those two were on the table now.

Red Alert's helm cocked to one side as he glanced back at Prowl finally. "Because of your… er… status, your processor would have normally been the last to be scanned. And not until Jazz returned."

"Which will not be until the end of the decaorn, if his current mission goes as planned." Prowl pointed out.

Red Alert looked unnerved – probably at that unintentional indication of just how much a former Decepticon knew about Autobot operations. "Um… right."

Inferno gave his department commander a sideways glance and returned his focus to Prowl. "And most Decepticons would have become incensed at the accusation. They probably wouldn't have cooperated as much. In fact, I'm surprised you did to that extent."

Prowl, growing uncomfortable at having the discussion shift back toward him, decided to address the concern he felt 97.41% likely underlay that statement in the hopes that they could move forward more quickly. "As I said, I was an Enforcer for nearly fifty decavorns. I understand your suspicions and the reasons for them. I don't blame you that I was your primary suspect."

They reached the security center and Prowl watched with some consternation as Red Alert hunched his frame around the door controls, shifting to try and shield the keypad with his body. Inferno caught his expression and his shoulders shifted in a repressed chuckle. The movement attracted Prowl's attention and the other red mech just shrugged at Prowl's questioning glance.

Brushing aside the strange and processor buzzing behavior, Prowl continued detailing his analysis. "If I were held in custody, that would, by definition mean I would not be at my post in tactical command."

Inferno's optics widened and his entire frame stilled. "And we wouldn't have been inclined to change that, even if we were attacked."

Spinning around to look at the two of them, Red Alert's mouth moved several times before he managed to blurt out. "Primus! We would have played right into their hands."

"And any Decepticon infiltrator would have all but counted on your innate suspicion of me." Prowl confirmed calmly but without accusation.

"I can't believe I didn't think of that." Red Alert groused at himself, then looked sheepishly at his Second.

"It's alright, Red." Inferno consoled. "You would have figured it out."

Red Alert did not look like he wanted to agree and Prowl had an instant to wonder if the mech's paranoia extended to include himself, but then the Security Director's optics narrowed again, looking back at Prowl. "That means there is a high probability a Decepticon attack will happen before the end of the decaorn. That is… that's only four more orns!"

Prowl had to hide a small smile. He had known Red Alert could not possibly be as dense as his paranoia made him appear at times. "Indeed."

"Then you should be in tactical, not here. We can figure it out…" Red Alert began but Prowl gently shook his helm, cutting him off.

"Smokescreen is already preparing for such an assault." At the two red mech's suspicious looks, Prowl continued. "As tacticians, we recognized this possibility. And, preparing for such a scenario is Smokescreen's specialty as a defensive strategist. He will comm. me if he needs my abilities before I return."

Inferno's optics narrowed. "You make quite a few assumptions for having only worked under him for a few decaorns.

Prowl allowed the corner of his lip plate to twitch. "While it is true I have only worked under Smokescreen for a handful of decaorns, he worked under me and was my apprentice for twelve decavorns."

Inferno blinked. "Oh." He glanced at Red Alert. "That must be… awkward."

Prowl shrugged a doorwing. "It is reality. Smokescreen has earned his post. Considering my past, it is an honor to work with him at all, in any capacity. In any case, I do have sufficient familiarity with him to be confident in my assertion that I have plenty of time and leeway to render whatever aid I might be able in this case."

Red Alert cleared his vents, looking decidedly uneasy. "So… how can you help us determine who really did attack Sunstreaker and Sideswipe? And better yet, how can we keep this from happening again?

Prowl moved into the security control center at Red Alert's invitation and considered the bright red mech. "If you have a datapad, I will down load all the information I have on Decepticon espionage agents. It is accurate as of the date of my defection, but it will at least give us a place to start comparing modes of operation and technique."

"Wonderful." Red Alert still seemed a touch undecided, but he nevertheless handed Prowl the requested datapad. Obligingly, Prowl downloaded the promised information and, handing it back to its original owner, the three of them bent over it and got to work.

… … …

The attack, when it came, was not as impressive as the Decepticon's first major attack on Iacon. Not by a long shot. Nor was it a surprise, thanks to a rather fortuitous scouting mission by Hound and Springer.

In fact, it was not so much an actual attack on Iacon as it was a preemtive strike against the encamped Decepticons soldiers by a combination of Autobot ground troops and seekers. The battle was short and swift, leaving the Autbots with only minimal damages as the Decepticons fled back into the night.

After hostilities came to an end, Prowl helped Smokescreen and a still subdued Trailbreaker break down their mobile tactical center. Trailbreaker surreptitiously watched his department commander and the mech who had taken his former position.

This time Prowl had been the one to issue commands, and he had done so openly as he had during the attack on Iacon. Thankfully, following so quickly on the heels of that outstanding victory, there had been little to no resistance to following his orders. Trailbreaker could not deny that Prowl was the primary reason the battle had been such an easy victory.

As if sensing his thoughts, Smokescreen looked at him and smiled. "This feels good. I could get used to winning like this."

Prowl canted a look at his department commander, but clearly recognized the natural euphoria following a victory in one who had not experienced them very often. And this time the gray and white Praxian had been free to perform his own preferred function: defensive strategy.

They worked efficiently together, yet took their time in finishing up, Trailbreaker waited until they were near their ship before stopping, looking at Prowl. "Commander Prowl… a moment, sir?"

Smokescreen looked at them and then silently boarded the ship, giving them some privacy. Suddenly wary, Prowl nodded to the other tactician.

Trailbreaker handed him a datapad. "The report you asked for, sir. You warned me not to incriminate myself further… but I thought it best to be completely honest and forthright."

A pained expression flashed across Prowl's faceplate so quickly Trailbreaker almost missed it. He hurried to continue. "I will accept full responsibility for my actions, sir."

Still not happy with the situation, Prowl merely nodded and indicated Trailbreaker precede him onto the ship. Behind him, Prowl looked at the datapad as if wishing he could just crumple it and leave it among the debris littering the area. But doing so would dishonor Trailbreaker's efforts.

With a sigh of air, Prowl followed, taking his seat next to Smokescreen without seeming hesitation. The last time they had returned to Iacon from a battle, Trailbreaker had been sitting in that exact seat… and Prowl had been relegated to the seat Trailbreaker now occupied.

Feeling his demotion more acutely than he had since the moment he had been so publically informed, Trailbreaker watched Prowl read his report with obvious reluctance. He looked for any indication of what the Praxian was thinking, any hint as to what his fate might be once they landed in Iacon.

But there was nothing. No change in Prowl's outward demeanor, no shifting of his rigidly held doorwings. Nothing.

It made Trailbreaker increasingly nervous.

Even when Prowl finally turned off the datapad and turned his attention forward, there was no inkling of what was running through his processor.

With a tank-wrenching lurch, Trailbreaker realized he would either have to wait for Prowl's official response or ask. Experience dictated it was always better to be proactive in such a matter. Even if doing so did not make it any more pleasant, it helped salvage one's reputation with said superior officer.

Trailbreaker chose to wait until they had landed, then he paused at the foot of the boarding ramp for Prowl and Smokescreen to join him.

Prowl looked at him for one searching moment before turning his attention back to Smokescreen. Trailbreaker watched the older Praxian's doorwings dip respectfully. "I need a moment with Trailbreaker, Smokescreen. May I join you in tactical in a few breems?"

Smokescreen looked between them, doorwings twitching. "Of course, but I want both of you to be intact."

Trailbreaker was shocked to see the barest hint of an amused smile flicker briefly over Prowl's faceplate. "We will be."

Smokescreen glared at his mentor and then nodded and turned away. Trailbreaker wondered briefly what unspoken comm. message had been exchanged.

Once Smokescreen was gone, Prowl turned his undivided attention to Trailbreaker and the brown tactician found himself tensing, unsure what to expect. What he received was a polite and perfectly inflectionless. "Yes, Trailbreaker?"

Trailbreaker's vents hitched momentarily. "My report…" He looked away.

"Yes. It was very thorough. I was impressed with your frankness. You did not spare yourself, either in your explanation of your behavior or your critique of it." Prowl gave him a tiny nod of acknowledgement.

Trailbreaker looked down, surprised to find how easy it was to yield to this mech – a former Decepticon for pit's sake – even though he feared what punishment might come. Even for Smokescreen, it was not so natural to submit to and it was a little unnerving. Why had he not felt that before?

"Yes, sir." He murmured quietly when Prowl paused.

Prowl released a vent and Trailbreaker felt his frame flinch in expectation. He would not dishonor himself. He did not know what Prowl would do, but he had maliciously participated in working to poison others against him. He would not balk at accepting responsibility for that behavior. He would not.

"Trailbreaker." Prowl said nothing else until Trailbreaker lifted his optics back up to meet his. "Even though you did not spare any indicting evidence against yourself, it was clear to me that the offences were personal in nature, rather than professional. Therefore, as punishment for unprofessional behavior has already been allotted, there is nothing else that needs to be addressed."

Trailbreaker just stared at him, having to replay those words in his processor to make sure he had heard them correctly. "You… you don't wish to address those personal offenses… um, unofficially?"

Prowl cocked an optic ridge. "You addressed the matter fully and there is nothing I can say about it that you do not already know. There is no need for me to harangue you over the matter."

"But…" This was not what he expected.

Prowl released another vent. "Trailbreaker, the occurrences of gossip and slander you detailed in your report were indeed quite personal and insulting, but you acknowledged that as well." The black and white tactician paused, studying him. "While I was disappointed, I am not truly surprised by your antipathy. I know you are not alone in that either."

Trailbreaker lowered his optics again, feeling his frame heat. He had expected an angry response, a vindictive punishment. Not… not this. It only made him feel all the more worse for what he had done.

A gentle hand on his arm, startled him and his gaze snapped back up to find Prowl looking at him. The usually cool optics warmed with… compassion? Understanding? Pity? Trailbreaker was not sure, and it almost made Prowl's next words surreal.

"You need not worry. I will not hold those past deeds against you."

He looked down, because the only other thing he could have done at that moment was to stare dumbly.

"Would you prefer that I would?" Prowl asked almost dryly, seeing his reaction.

Alarmed, Trailbreaker shook his helm, still not able to meet Prowl's gaze. "No, no, no. But… um."

"You expected me to." The gentle hand on his armor fell away and Trailbreaker nodded miserably.

"I see." Trailbreaker could just feel Prowl studying him. "What would you prefer that I do now?"

Trailbreaker blinked, looking back up. What universe had he fallen into, that Prowl would react like this? "I… I don't know! Something."

Even as he stammered his answer he remembered something Smokescreen had said during that staff briefing where Prowl's promotion had been announced. Something about everyone needing to learn that Prowl would be a fair and unbiased commander.

Unbidden his memory banks replayed Prowl's promise to step aside if he or Fusion found sufficient reason to convince the Prime his promotion was premature. He also recalled Prowl's multiple admonitions to follow and listen to his own observations and reasoning, not to blindly follow the bias of others.

In that moment, Trailbreaker could not deny that in all his personal dealings with Prowl, the mech had been more than fair and unbiased. He had consistently shown a level of compassion that, while not openly obvious, was there nonetheless.

Prowl was not a Decepticon and, as painful as it was to admit, he was a good leader. Undeniably, he was able to help Smokescreen in more ways and with far more expertise than Trailbreaker had been able. And, as Smokescreen had pointed out, Prowl had to know that, yet never had he flaunted his superior abilities and skills. The Praxian had a true humility about him that somehow only managed to highlight how strong he actually was.

What he had told Smokescreen had also been right, Trailbreaker thought; it was very difficult to miss how much of a leader Prowl was when he chose to project that side of his persona… as he was doing right now.

Trailbreaker drew himself up formally and dipped his helm, using Prowl's quiet strength to regain his own composure. "I have wronged you, commander, in very personal ways. As the one whom my actions have harmed, I will abide by your preference, sir."

As his gaze was plastered onto Prowl's chassis, he missed the Praxian's blink. His words were the formal apology that reinforced the chain of command. Trailbreaker was, with that statement, also stating his acceptance of Prowl as his commanding officer.

The younger tactician was completely unaware of the cascade of emotions that raced behind Prowl's outward control. All he knew was that when the words came, they were like a balm.

"I prefer to move on, and I encourage you to do likewise."

Trailbreaker lifted his gaze back to Prowl's and knew the mech would do exactly that. It gave him the confidence to do likewise. He nodded eagerly, though with newfound respect. "Thank you, sir."


I know, not a lot of action in this chapter. But never fear: more action is coming. I know I skimmed over this battle, but I have a much better battle coming up that I want to get to and didn't want to take up your time or mine writing one that would look a lot like the ones already described. Prowl/Ultra Magnus coming up next chapter as well as... others. Also, the mystery as to who exactly attacked the Twins will be solved in the next chapter too. Guesses?

Likewise, I will be posting the first of a series of side stories to Turning Points in the next couple of days. It will be Optimus' POV of Prowl's initial arrival in Iacon.