A decaorn after Prowl had completed his administrative punishment he was nearing the end of his regular shift in tactical command – enjoying the lower tension levels in those around him now that they knew his tanks were back up to normal levels – when Jazz unceremoniously waltzed through the doors. Prowl glanced up from his terminal screen as the saboteur crossed through the relatively open area, but the silver mech barely spared him a glance he was so intent on his mission.
Prowl tracked the smaller mech's progress as Jazz wordlessly slipped into Smokescreen's office.
Prowl released a short vent. Jazz's demeanor indicated his purpose there was work related not personal. As second in command of the tactical department, he would expect to be involved in any high-priority assignment the department might be given. Even as that thought crossed his processor, he was reminded of Ultra Magnus' concern about the highly classified information he had received the orn the Commander had interrupted his sparring match with the Prime.
He had been peripherally aware of several additional, similarly classified communications between Iacon Command and Simfur. As much as it might irk the tactician, if Jazz's presence was related to whatever was going on, it was only logical – if irritatingly ridiculous – that he would not be included.
Prowl had just managed to completely refocus on his current task when he received a quick databurst from his department leader, ordering him to report to his office.
While strictly speaking, Prowl in no way needed such a curt order to be obedient – and he knew Smokescreen knew that as well - Prowl understood that his apprentice was making a statement that he did not want Prowl to object or question him in any way in regards to whatever was about to happen.
Admittedly worried about that, at least to some degree, Prowl nonetheless immediately left his terminal and walked into Smokescreen's office. Smokescreen was at his desk and Jazz was in the single chair opposite the white and gray Praxian. Both looked up at Prowl as he halted beside Jazz, angling himself to be able to see both mechs easily.
Prowl looked at his department commander expectantly, doorwings tucked respectfully.
Smokescreen's optic ridge quirked, recognizing Prowl's unspoken message. "You are aware that Simfur has been petitioning us for assistance?"
"I am aware that Simfur has been in recent communication with Iacon." Prowl allowed, his interest piqued.
Jazz snorted. "Yeah. Well, the Prime has decided that he needs ta get ta Simfur ta deal with tha problem personally."
Prowl's doorings flared in alarm. "That is unwise."
Jazz stiffened. "The Temple Guards won't deal with anyone else. Surely ya know the danger of discussing such sensitive issues over a comm. channel, no matter how secure."
Prowl frowned, his tactical computer racing to figure out what he was not being told. "I understand the danger of discussing sensitive information over long distance communications. But why not have envoys from the temple come to Iacon?"
"They already have." Jazz's engine revved. "Nah, the Prime is convinced this is the only way."
Prowl's frown deepened, he was about to question that assumption, but Smokescreen cut him off. "The decision has been made, Prowl. The details are classified, highly classified, and for good reason. I'm not at liberty to divulge them, especially with your…er… official status as a former POW and still being on probation and all that. Nor is Jazz. But you are the best tactician we have and your skills are needed."
Jazz took over, leaning forward earnestly. "We have ta find a way to get the Prime safely to tha temple in Simfur. Trust me when I say the fate of Cybertron could hang on the success of this mission. At the very least; the outcome of tha war."
Prowl had to work hard to keep his doorwings from twitching as he considered that. He wanted to be offended that, despite everything, he was being denied vital information for a mission because of his status. Especially since he was still the Second in Command of the tactical department. Would they be so hesitant to disclose that information were he not still on his probation?
Prowl could not answer that question.
He felt vaguely uneasy; as he had before that botched safe-house fiasco.
As if reading his thought processes Smokescreen shook his helm. "The only thing we're asking is that you find a way to help the Prime get to Simfur. That's it. You won't be held responsible for anything else."
"I could help ensure the success of the mission." Prowl murmured softly, though without accusation.
Smokescreen's doorwings twitched in a wince, but Jazz merely cocked his helm a fraction. The other tactician understood the insulting nature of the assignment. He was not being asked to work on this mission because he was a trusted member of the team, but because he was a good tactician and they needed his processor.
Considering the giant strides Prowl had made in gaining their trust and the friendships he was beginning to build, it was a slap to the faceplate. And both Jazz and Smokescreen knew that.
After a long moment Prowl released a vent. He was willing to give both mechs the benefit of the doubt. He would trust that neither would approach him in such a manner unless the nature of the situation truly required it. And he was a former Decpeticon and he was still on probation.
However, just because he understood the situation and did not truly hold it against either Jazz or Smokescreen, he found himself responding to the reminder of his official status. His well-practiced mask of neutrality settled over his frame and features as his armor clamped tighter across his frame in submission.
"Understood. And the data I will be allowed?"
"In here." Jazz tapped the side of his helm. "Can't risk putting anything on a datapad."
Because datapads could be lost or hacked from a distance by skilled Spec Ops operative, regardless of encryption. Prowl nodded.
Jazz flashed him a devilish grin. "Looks like we get ta work together at last."
Prowl cocked an optic ridge and then offered a tiny nod. No doubt Jazz was working on the assignment because of his intimate knowledge of the situation. But Prowl was experienced enough to know the saboteur was also going to be acting as a monitor of some kind. The fact that the silver mech did not trust the data to be transmitted indicated the method Jazz was likely to insist on.
Prowl could work with that. Data was data, how he received the data was a peripheral matter.
Smokescreen handed him a datapad, breaking into his thoughts. "I've already done the preliminary work and the diversionary analysis. It's all yours Prowl."
Prowl glanced down at the datapad then swiftly synched with it, downloading the analysis Smokescreen had already completed. Then he handed the datapad back to it's owner, not wanting to be responsible for it when Jazz had already declared the information was too sensitive for such risks. The frown now gracing the saboteur's lip plates only reinforced that and left Prowl no doubt Smokescreen would be talked to later.
Clearing his vents, Prowl looked at Jazz. "Shall we?" He gestured back toward the tactical command.
Jazz shook his helm, but stood, leading Prowl toward Smokescreen's office door. "Only place that I know is secure is my office."
Obediently, Prowl fell into step with the smaller mech. "Understood."
They walked the rest of the way to Jazz's office in tense silence. Jazz's reluctance to talk only heightened Prowl's unease with the situation. Like himself, a mask of impassiveness had settled around the generally boisterous mech. It was a reminder of just how dangerous Jazz could be.
Once they had reached their destination, both mechs stood just inside the door and looked at each other. Prowl realized with a start that the last time he had actually been inside this office was when Jazz had scanned him following his mission with Hound. It had not occurred to him just how little time Jazz actually spent in his office, but a lightning-quick review of Prowl's memory banks confirmed that every other time Jazz had needed to consult with tactical – or the other way around – Jazz had come to the tactical command. The very faint look of disgust that flickered across Jazz's faceplate as he glanced at his own desk spoke volumes even as the reminder of Prowl's last visit here made the tactician uneasy.
This assignment was going to require a similar level of… collaboration as that scan.
Releasing a resigned vent of air, Prowl looked at the head of Autobot Intelligence. "You know how I function."
It was almost a question but more of a statement. Jazz nodded. "Yeah, so rapidly I don't have a chance of keepin' up."
"It is more efficient." Prowl murmured softly.
Jazz eyed him warily. "Not tha best for collaboration, tho'"
Prowl considered that, running a new idea through his processor. Perhaps there was still a way he could salvage his pride. "Perhaps, but it can offer an option that is even better for collaboration than spoken communications."
Jazz jerked backwards as if hit. Neither of them had been in the other's processor since the review board and it was clear Jazz never expected an invitation to do so. "Ya serious?"
Prowl nodded with more serenity than he felt. "I estimate it will take approximately four orns to complete the assignment if we are restricted to conventional means of communicating. Or, we could have it finished by the end of this orn."
Jazz hesitated before replying. "I ain't ever done anything quite like that. I usually work alone."
Prowl frowned. "You have been my monitor in the past…"
Engine giving a low rev, Jazz cut him off. "That ain't the same as collaboratin'."
Blinking, Prowl considered the silver mech before him more carefully. "They are not mutually exclusive, however."
Jazz's expression darkened. "Spec Ops don't do tandem processes. There is to much in our processors that could hurt too many mechs."
Prowl nodded, accepting that explanation easily. "It need not be a true tandem process. I am still on probation and the regulations are clear. While not as efficient, it can be accomplished through a one-way conne…"
Engine growling, Jazz cut him off again. "I ain't scannin' ya again unless I have no other choice." Then, seeing Prowl's frame stiffen Jazz relaxed, softening his tone. "I've already trusted you with access to my processor before. It ain't about that."
Worry nearly radiated from Jazz as he put an arm on Prowl's arm, silently beseeching him to understand. And Prowl did. Jazz had been serious about not wanting to reveal more about this mission than Prowl absolutely needed to accomplish the assigned task. And that necessity irritated the silver mech.
With another resigned sigh of air through his vents, Prowl let his doorwings dip, signifying his understanding. "Firewall or mark that which you don't want me to see. I give you my word not to pry into anything I shouldn't."
Jazz's armor flared at that promise, though his frame did loose its rigidity. "Doesn't change the fact I haven't done this before."
Prowl allowed a tiny, weak smile to flick across his features before banishing it again. "I have. Numerous times. Tandem processes have several distinct advantages, especially under specific circumstances, as draining as they can sometimes be." He paused. "Actually, I imagine it is similar to how you worked with Ratchet to dismantle my firewalls after I crashed."
Jazz winced openly at that reminder, then he deflated, shoulders hunching faintly. "We don't have four orns."
"I did not think so." Prowl kept all hint of smugness out of his voice.
Jazz's visor snapped up as he studied the tactician carefully. "Ya sure 'bout this?"
"Are you?" Prowl returned the question.
Jazz just nodded and then, with a flurry of motion he grabbed the chair on the 'guest' side of the desk and dragged it around to his side and powered up the terminal even as he gestured Prowl over.
Accepting the invitation with outward professional coolness that hid his growing trepidation, Prowl readied himself mentally. While a tandem process could be done through a one-way connection, they were easier and far more efficient if the connection was reciprocal. Even so, Prowl accepted the fact that regardless of how much time had passed or how they had grown to trust each other, that Jazz might not truly be ready to demonstrate enough trust to do a true tandem process.
He looked at Jazz as the smaller mech mumbled something about there being a 'first time for everything'.
Prowl had already slid aside the cover over his port when Jazz did likewise while simultaneously handing Prowl his cord. Prowl took the offered cord automatically before it fully dawned on him what it was.
The saboteur's amused expression snapped Prowl out of his stunned disbelief as the mech gestured impatiently with two fingers for Prowl to do likewise.
"Right." Prowl blinked and quickly handed his cord to Jazz.
They both hesitated for a long astrosecond and then connected simultaneously. Instantly, the automatic synchronization took over.
Unlike the stabbing, invading discomfort of a one-directional scan – even when done gently – this was different. There was no physical or mental discomfort; momentary disorientation perhaps, but not pain.
As polite social convention required, both mechs respected the other's primary firewalls, waiting until both were ready to begin.
Prowl explained briefly what they were going to be doing and took over the terminal by mutual, unspoken agreement.
"Ready?" Prowl asked, transmitting an encouragement for Jazz to stop and ask questions should any arise.
Jazz merely nodded.
Prowl decided to accept that and started the analysis.
It was quickly apparent to both mechs that it was surprisingly easy to work together. Jazz's whirlwind of frenetic processing was the perfect balance to Prowl's rigid and almost compulsively ordered and organized processor. Prowl's logical and methodic reasoning was the perfect counterpart to Jazz's almost intuitive understanding. One's cool calculation against the other's almost burning emotional zeal.
While such diametrically polar opposites could have created tension between them, the respect they had gained for one another –both personally and professionally – served to help smooth any rough spots. Essentially, both mechs were listening to the other.
Jazz found that Prowl was indeed an excellent teacher and an accommodating one at that. As with every time he had synched with Prowl, he could feel the raw power of the processors at work and knew Prowl was restraining himself so as to make their collaboration possible. Thankfully, Jazz was quick processored in his own way and once he was confident in how the process worked, he was able to function at a remarkably high level of operation; a fact that pleased Prowl even if he was not surprised by it.
Indeed, Prowl found Jazz to be just as nimble of the mind as he was in frame. Not that he was surprised by that either; as he had experienced that mental agility before.
Their differences made their minds almost perfectly complementary, which in turn made them extraordinarily efficient together. Even more so than Prowl had experienced with Smokescreen.
It was a perfect give and take that flowed smoothly until it came to making the final decisions on who would actually be on the mission.
Prowl looked up to focus on the saboteur. "It is unwise to have that many senior level officers on the mission. If something does happen, Autobot Command would be decimated."
Jazz considered that thoughtfully, looking back at the terminal before looking up at him. Prowl did not like the gleam in the other mech's still un-shielded optics, even if his tone was that of utmost reasonableness.
"Ironhide has to go, he's the Prime's bodyguard. Me, of course 'cause of what's in here." Jazz tapped his temple with a silver claw. "Ratchet 'cause we hafta have a medic just in case and… how 'bout you?"
Prowl blinked. "Me? That would hardly be appropriate."
"You are an Autobot." Jazz ticked off the points on his fingers and Prowl was privy to the minibot's own brand of smug satisfaction as he listed his reasons. "You are the SiC of the tactical department. Besides if something does happen you'd be a great asset with your skills…"
"I am not even cleared to know the details of the mission." Prowl objected again. "I doubt I would be trusted in such a capacity."
The Prime might trust him, but that was because of their Circuit Su relationship and…
"I think ya underestimate how much ya're trusted. Just run the calculations." Jazz nudged him back to face the terminal.
Hesitating a moment Prowl did as he was bid. He was not truly surprised when the results came back. Numbly, and a little uncomfortably, he presented them to Jazz.
The saboteur beamed at him, a definite 'told ya so!' bombarding Prowl across their hardline connection.
Prowl frowned, "Then First Aid should go rather than Ratchet."
"But…" Jazz's exultation disappeared.
"If something happens in the field, we will want Ratchet not to be part of it so that he can help those of us who survive." Prowl insisted.
"Keeping 'bots alive." Jazz reminded him. "That's why Ratchet should be the one to go."
"First Aid is more than capable. He might not be as experienced as Ratchet but he is capable." Prowl pressed his point.
"He made a mistake that coulda killed ya." Jazz reminded him.
Prowl hesitated but nodded. "He made a mistake and I doubt he will make the same one again. I trust him."
"He's even less able to defend himself should the slag hit the air re-circulators." Jazz said.
At that, Prowl actually smirked, letting his own smugness across the line. "I believe he is not as vulnerable as you think him to be."
Jazz was staring at him and Prowl felt his incredulous curiosity. "You've been training him too, haven't ya?"
"And I believe he may surprise you." Prowl let himself smirk. Then he showed the saboteur the numbers.
Jazz considered the calculations carefully and then leaned back. "Okay, it's a plan!"
… … …
Ironhide was not quite as impressed with their plan as Jazz had been. Not if the barely audible growl vibrating from his engine was any indication as Prowl laid it out during a briefing with him, Optimus, Ultra Magnus and Ratchet later that night. Stolidly, Prowl did not back down.
The numbers were reliable; they did not lie. And the numbers said this was the best way to ensure the safety of their Prime.
Ironhide continued to glare at Prowl, though the anger was colored more with disgust than distrust. "You would send our Prime out undefended?"
Prowl shook his helm sharply. "His best defense is that the Decepticons do not find out, because if they should, nothing less than an entire regiment would do any good."
"That is a large risk to take." Ultra Magnus said softly, but not with the bite he would have only two decaorns ago. He was making an observation, not leveling an accusation.
Prowl acknowledged that observation openly. "It is, but it was strongly impressed upon me that this operation must remain absolutely secret. This was the best solution given the parameters I was given."
"Secrecy is of utmost importance." The Prime murmured softly, his serene voice cutting off whatever Ironhide might have said.
Dipping his helm in acknowledgement of that statement, even though Prowl still did not have any details as to why Optimus was making this trip or even what he hoped to accomplish, the tactician returned his attention to his Prime.
"Will the five of us be sufficient for mutual protection?" Optimus asked.
"If we can avoid drawing attention we have a 96.28% chance of successfully returning to Iacon." Prowl paused. "Of course, that might change depending on the purpose of and the impact from outcome of the mission itself."
Beside him, Jazz went stiff though the action was so minute it was almost imperceptible. Ratchet blinked and guilt flashed briefly behind the Prime's optics. Ultra Magnus merely shifted his armor as he continued to study Prowl. It was Ironhide, however, who broke the sudden silence.
"You don't know what the goal of the mission is?"
Frowning, Prowl could not keep the note of disapproval out of his voice. "No. It was not necessary at this juncture."
"That's why he's goin'." Jazz piped up. "He can adjust on the fly as tha situation changes."
Prowl's posture remained rigid and upright, confident and calm as Ironhide, Ratchet, Ultra Magnus and the Prime studied him. The tactician kept silent as each of the four mechs worked through their inner thoughts. Yes, each one had grown to trust him to some degree over the last stellar cycles: Optimus as a mentor in Circuit Su, Ironhide as a tactician and Ratchet as a self-defense teacher and willing subject for his apprentice and Ultra Magnus at least as a true Autobot. But the Praxian knew instinctively this was still putting that trust to the test.
There would be no back up if he should fail or betray them on this mission, sleeper coding or otherwise. Prowl knew just how much trust he was asking them to place in a former Decepticon. They were deciding if they were ready to put the life of their Prime in his hands so directly. He knew better than to push them and so Prowl waited silently.
After a moment, Prowl felt the Prime's attention sharpen and focused on his leader.
Deep concern etched the Prime's countenance. "Is this a mission you are undertaking of your own volition?"
Prowl's lip plates flicked downward. "I helped devise the strategy."
Optimus continued to study him, clearly weighing his words as if deciding whether or not they actually answered the question. After a long moment he nodded, but was not quite ready to move the discussion onward, clearly troubled.
"Prime…" Prowl released a vent, studying the Prime in turn as he carefully ordered his own words. He was peripherally aware that every mech was now focused intently on him as he continued, "…You are my Prime. Do not presume I will be resentful simply because I am not given a choice. I am a warrior; an Enforcer, and I am no stranger to taking orders."
Optimus honored Prowl's words by not flinching at them. "I will not abuse that trait, Prowl."
Prowl nodded his acceptance of that promise. "And that is why you should not fear to give such orders. I do not wish to be treated any different than any other mech under your command in that regard."
The two mechs continued to stare at each other, meeting each other's gazes. Then, to the surprise of the other three, Optimus smiled faintly. "I shall keep that in mind."
And just like that, the steadily mounting tension evaporated.
Until Ratchet spoke. "I am curious a to why you think my apprentice should go rather than me."
Prowl hesitated in answering; the CMO's tone was somewhere between simple curiosity and open challenge.
He dipped his doorwings enough to signal his understanding of Ratchet's concern. "If something should go catastrophically wrong on this mission, it is vital that our CMO not be involved because you would be the only chance the Prime would have of surviving. Anything less than that, First Aid should be able to ensure we are ale to make it to a place of relative safety for further treatment."
Ultra Magnus' engine revved as Ratchet's expression darkened. "You take great liberty with the life and safety of others."
Rather than flinching, Prowl stiffened, biting down an angry retort that Ratchet should know him better than that. He was well aware his time with the Autobots was only just now nearing one vorn. Truly he would never hold it against them if he never completely gained their trust.
His irritation drained out and he lowered his optics fractionally. "On the contrary. I am painfully aware of the sacrifices I may be calling on others to make and I do not take it lightly."
Only a handful of stellar cycles ago, a processor scan would probably have been needed for the bright chartreuse mech to believe those words. But this time, Ratchet's optics widened.
"That's…" Ratchet cycled his vents. "That is why you come to the med bay after every battle or mission."
Prowl could almost feel the curiosity in the other four mechs spike even as he nodded solemnly. "It is far to easy to loose sight of the faceplates that accompany the names and statistics in the casualty reports. Every decision I make while performing my function affects the lives of others. That is something I allowed myself to loose sight of while working for the Decepticons."
"It would be seen as a weakness ta care scrap one way or another." Jazz breathed the words out almost reverently. There was respect in his voice rather than harsh ridicule or mocking.
Another reminder – as if he needed any – that Prowl was no longer among Decepticons.
Prowl nodded in answer to the saboteur's statement though he did not look away from Ratchet. "I will not let myself take that responsibility for granted again."
Ratchet continued to stare at him then nodded with the reluctance of a teacher not wanting to send his student out into the world without him. "If any harm comes to him…"
"I will protect First Aid to the best of my ability, Ratchet." Prowl murmured. "You have my word."
Ratchet froze, every system stilling for a long second. He knew Prowl would keep that promise. At length he nodded. "Fine. I'm summoning him now. You get to brief him."
It was an order not a question or a request and Ratchet was the CMO. Prowl was not even a department head. Obediently, Prowl tucked his doorwings. "Yes, sir."
First Aid arrived only a couple of breems later. The young medic hesitated in the doorway as his optics surveyed the gathered mechs, optics that grew wider as he saw just who was there.
Ratchet stood and gestured First Aid into the chair he had just vacated and then jerking his helm to indicate the tactician. Cycling his vents nervously, First Aid slid into the seat and turned his attention to Prowl.
Prowl regarded the white and orange medic for a moment and then intentionally softened his posture to help reassure the clearly nervous medic. Ratchet, on the other hand, crossed his arms and glared at the two of them.
"First Aid," Prowl began, "there is an important mission for which your talents are needed."
"A mission?" First Aid jerked back glancing over the gathered mechs. "Me?"
"We – Jazz, Ironhide, myself and you – will be escorting the Prime on a secret mission to Simfur." Prowl explained.
Optics widening, First Aid recoiled again, glancing nervously at each of the mechs mentioned before ducking his helm. "What do you need me for? I am not a warrior."
"You are a medic and we may have need of your services before the mission is over."
First Aid grew still, then he spoke softly. "That dangerous?"
Prowl nodded seriously. "The possibility of danger is real, but not an absolute guarantee."
"But…" First Aid leaned forward, one hand resting on the table as he spoke to Prowl as if afraid to acknowledge the others in the room. "I mean I know you have been training me Prowl, but I am not a warrior. I don't know the first thing about being a body guard…"
Prowl smiled faintly and gently touched the medic's arm. "No. You are a medic. Being a body guard is not what you are being asked to do."
"I don't like the idea of being helpless." First Aid muttered.
Optimus Prime, Ultra Magnus, Ironhide and Jazz were treated to a rare, soft and brief chuckle from the rumored emotionless tactician. "You are not helpless, First Aid. Nor are you going alone."
First Aid blinked as the others quickly recovered from Prowl's subdued expression of humor. None of them laughed at the medic, but rather they were waiting for him to seriously get his processor in the mission. Obligingly, First Aid started thinking about what was being laid before him.
He looked up to see Prowl was regarding him with calm optics, expecting him to understand what had not been said yet. "You need a medic on the team and, if something truly horrible happens, it is important that Ratchet isn't incapacitated so that he can fix us."
Prowl nodded shortly while the other members of the team seemed uncomfortable hearing those words from him, even though the young medic was sure something like that had already been discussed between them.
Ratchet snorted. "If something that bad happens, I may not be ale to save anything."
First Aid looked up and back at his mentor, surprised to note something that sounded suspiciously like envy in his tone.
"No one is ordering you to go on this mission." Optimus Prime spoke soothingly. "The risk of danger is real and there will not be enough of us to guarantee your safety."
First Aid stared for a long moment at his Prime, resisting the urge to fidget. Then he straightened, taking confidence in the Prime's calm strength. "There is never any guarantee sir."
First Aid looked back at Ratchet. "You think I'm ready for something like this, sir?"
Ratchet merely snorted air through his vents again. "Of course. You learned basic triage and emergency management vorns ago."
"Even after…" He glanced guiltily at Prowl.
"It was his idea to select you for this mission." Ratchet interrupted. "Keep in mind that if I go and the worst does happen, you will be trying to fix me…. And most likely getting promoted to CMO in my place."
First Aid's optics bulged and he spun back to face Prowl. "I'll go!"
… … …
Each mech going on the mission had a handful of joors to make ready and then they departed, slipping away from Iacon Base in the eerie, predawn hush that preceded the start of every orn.
Bluestreak and Bumblebee had sensed the seriousness of the occasion and while the blue and gray youngling had pressed Prowl to be careful, he did not insist on an unreasonable promise.
Before they had parted, Bluestreak and put a hand on Prowl's faceplate, drawing his guardian closer to whisper, "I'm proud of you, Prowl. I'll be waiting for you."
Ultra Magnus accompanied them to the edge of the city's perimeter. After parting farewells with the Prime, the Second in Command turned to Prowl. Prowl straightened under those bright cerulean optics. Then the larger mech jerked his helm.
Taking in a slow intake of air, Prowl nodded and stepped closer, and then followed as Ultra Magnus stepped away from the group. He stood stiffly at attention as Ultra Magnus stared back at the city for a long moment.
"Optimus Prime is more than just my Prime." Ultra Magnus said at last. "He is my friend."
Prowl could identify, though he would not presume to call the Prime a friend. He was a mere Enforcer, a former Decepticon, even if he was also the Prime's master in Circuit Su. He would be content with whatever favor he was given.
"Yes, sir." He said softly as the Commander paused, seeming to want a response.
The larger mech released an overheated vent of air, though he still did not look at Prowl. "I would be lying if I said I was pleased with this mission."
"You are not alone in that, Commander." Prowl said softly, not liking it any more than the Commander. "I assure you this was the best plan available that met the specifications of the parameters I was given."
"I know that." Ultra Magnus turned to look at him, optics flashing with the intensity of his emotions. "We are trusting everything on your ability to handle anything that might come up."
Prowl studied the Prime's Second in Command. He could tell there was something the larger mech wanted to say but that he was not letting himself say it. That indicated it was probably of questionable appropriateness. Prowl appreciated the Commander's restraint, but he quickly decided it would be better if they were honest with each other.
"What is it you are really thinking, Commander?" Prowl asked respectfully.
Surprise flickered across those narrowed optics then was gone. Ultra Magnus' armor tightened against his frame. "I will not lower myself to that extent. Not even for a personal matter. Not again."
Suspicions confirmed, Prowl lowered his optics to the Second in Command's chassis. "With all due respect, Commander, open communication between us is more important that either of our personal opinions of the other."
When Ultra Magnus started to contradict that, Prowl hurried to make his point. "You are my commanding officer, sir. That will not change regardless of what it is you would say to me on a personal level."
Ultra Magnus crossed his arms as he regarded the tactician and Prowl had the distinct impression that the Commander was weighing the risks of trusting the implied promise in his words.
Finally he nodded and leaned forward, using his greater mass to loom just enough to convey an unspoken threat. "Bring the Prime back alive or you will wish you had died in Praxus."
Prowl blinked; not that the sentiment surprised him, but that Ultra Magnus would be so blunt. He glanced up to meet the Commander's optics and was startled to see a hint of concern in those gray faceplates. After a second Prowl understood that the larger mech was concerned more with how Prowl would respond to such a spark-felt statement than that such a situation would actually arise.
Though he probably should have felt the chill of fear at those words, Prowl instead felt a flicker of warmth at gaining that tiny bit of insight into the larger mech.
Prowl nodded solemnly, though he could not stop the faint smirk that tried to touch his lip plates. "Should I fail to bring the Prime back alive, I would welcome your reprisal. However, I fear you would have to stand in line." At the Commander's look of compounding disbelief and shock Prowl explained. "I doubt there would be much left of me after Elita One finished. And her claim predates your own."
Ultra Magnus stared and then his vents hitched as a chuckle escaped his control. Prowl let that smirk show openly and Ultra Magnus' frame relaxed enough he actually laughed.
Ultra Magnus dismissed him with a nod as he regained control. "Don't let it come to that."
"I will do my best, sir." Prowl bowed formally, acknowledging that he knew the threat was real, and then returned to the Prime.
His traveling companions had watched the interaction curiously, but no one said anything. Prowl intentionally did not try to figure out what their thoughts were as he silently took his place in the formation.
… … …
They traveled for most of the vorn in a loose shevron-shaped formation with Ironhide at point and Jazz and Prowl making up the far points with the Prime and First Aid in the more protected middle positions. All five of them were careful to remain within visual range, each one casting their sensors as wide as possible. They had a long distance to traverse and back up would take a long time to get to them. None of them wanted to take chances.
Prowl was busy processing the information when he received a private comm. from First Aid.
The timid nature of the communication request caught Prowl's attention.
/First Aid?/ He asked gently.
/Prowl, I…/ First Aid trailed off as they had to detour around a rather large crater in the road.
When the medic did not continue after they were back on track, Prowl pinged him. /What is it First Aid?/
First Aid's uneasy bashfulness transmitted to Prowl a moment before tried to speak again. /Well… that is... Please…/
Prowl heard the medic's frustrated ex-vent and took an educated guess. /Something troubles you./
/Never mind./ First Aid said quickly. Too quickly.
/If it has to do with this mission, you need to share what you are thinking. The survival of everyone could depend on it./ Prowl paused, taking anther guess. /Do not fear reprimand./
Even though they were both in alt-mode, Prowl could almost feel First Aid relax. Even so, when he spoke it was still timid and transmitted weakly, as if the medic was concerned about what his reaction might be. /I am concerned about the dampeners we are wearing. If someone should be injured but they are out of sight… I won't even know it. I know they are necessary but…/
/You are still concerned./ Prowl finished when First Aid trailed off again. /Yes. That is a real risk. Do you have any recommended solutions?/
/Maybe, but…/ Beside him, First Aid's engine stuttered nervously. /I doubt you will like it./
Prowl sent the young medic the equivalent of a reassuring smile. /If it is a legitimate solution, personal aversion is secondary. You are part of this team, you have a duty to provide such input./
First Aid transmitted the equivalent of a startled blink and then transmitted so rapidly it was almost a databurst rather than a comm. signal. /System's uplink. Vital signs only, perhaps major systems diagnostics. Um, yeah. I know it's invasive and everything but it would help if…/
Prowl cut off the younger mech's attempt to equivocate. /That is a good suggestion. One I should have considered myself. One moment please./
Keeping his signal with First Aid open, Prowl signaled his desire to open a channel between all of the mechs.
Immediately, Ironhide, Jazz and Optimus accepted his transmission. Likewise, Prowl did not waste time. /First Aid has an insightful suggestion, Prime./
/Go on./ Optimus' digital voice was calm and encouraging.
Prowl quickly filled them in on First Aid's idea, very aware that the white and orange emergency vehicle beside him tensed palpably.
Ironhide responded first, a hint of more respect in his digital tone than he had had for First Aid before. /Why haven't we done that before?/
/'Cause such links can be detected and hacked on undercover missions./ Jazz provided, but his tone was thoughtful. / But this ain't a single mech infiltration. It would be a good idea in our case./
/Agreed./ Optimus intoned. /First Aid, prepare for vital systems monitoring up-link./
Not an astrosecond later, the Prime's vital statistics started streaming to First Aid. Those were followed quickly by Ironhide's Jazz's and Prowl's. The young medic's engine stuttered again, this time in shock, and he managed to squeak, "Up-links received."
Around him, the more experienced mechs chuckled softly at the medic's surprise. Each and every one of them could recall the first time a much higher-ranking mech took a recommendation seriously, let alone three of the most senior ranking mechs in existence.
In this case, each of the said mechs were quietly relieved that at least one member of the team would be aware if they got separated and something went drastically wrong.
… … …
As the Prime and his small enturage neared the Simfur Territories, Prowl's upgraded doorwings picked up a five-mech patrol at the edge of his perceptual range. Either they were truly that far away or they were cloaked.
Running an evaluation that took little more than three astroseconds – yet with no outward change in his functioning because he had had his tactical and battle computers running at combat levels since they left Iacon Base – Prowl alerted the Prime on an open chanel.
/Prime, there is a large Decepticon scouting party five Clicks bearing 324.69.41./ While not immediately in front of them, the Decepticons were positioned to block them from proceeding directly.
The Prime's response was almost instantaneous. /What is the best way around them?/
Prowl was about to answer when the five blips on his sensors changed direction. /Not possible, sir./He sent apologetically. /They have altered their trajectory, they are now on an intercept course./
/Recommendations?/ The Prime asked, but it was directed at everyone.
There was a momentary silence and Prowl understood. Because of his upgraded sensors, he was the only one who could detect them at the moment. He transmitted hesitantly, /May I?/
/That is why you are here, Prowl./ The Prime's transmission was a hint relieved and a touch amused. Prowl had to reevaluate his earlier assumption. Perhaps the Prime had been speaking to him specifically when he had asked for recommendations.
Feeling a surge of confidence following that realization, Prowl spoke with all the authority of a trained leader and tactician. "Yes, sir. Ironhide, stay with the Prime and First Aid. Continue on your current course and speed unless deviation is absolutely necessary. Jazz…?"
Prowl had no idea how the change in his demeanor was causing a cascade of conflicting reactions in those who had not truly experienced the aura of command he was more than capable of projecting.
Jazz's impressed if not almost gleeful smile was clear in his voice as he answered. "I'm right there with ya, Prowler!"
Ignoring the annoying nickname in favor of focusing on the upcoming fight, Prowl merely indicated his acknowledgment.
They had spent enough time synched while preparing for this mission that neither mech really needed to discuss what the plan was. Or perhaps that was just because Jazz had grown adept at following his lead. Either way, tactician and saboteur pulled ahead of their fellow Autobots.
They closed ranks as they neared the Decepticon scouts, the uneven and pot-marked road flying under their tires.
/How were they able to detect us? All of us are wearing dampeners./ Jazz asked suddenly, as they closed the distance between them and their quary.
/A good question./ Prowl answered grimly. /One for which I wish I had an answer./
Jazz sent him a confirming blip and fell silent so they could both focus on what was coming.
They intercepted the Decepticon scouting party less than half a joor after they had split off from the rest of their team. Prowl's energon blades nearly bisected the smaller mech leading the Decepticon's diamond-shaped formation almost before their enemy even knew what was upon them.
Prowl withdrew his blade, kicking the deactivated scout away even as he spun to impale the next Decepticon – who had managed to transform – while deflecting an enraged blow from that same mech. Following through, Prowl pulled his blade free of the snarling Decepticon, slicing through thick armor and ripping free enough internals that the mech fell to the ground.
Delivering a powerful kick to the howling gray warrior that sent him flying into a nearby outcropping of metal in a spray of energon from his gaping wound, Prowl turned to his third opponent.
Meanwhile, Jazz slid into the fray with a serpentine grace and deadly certainty that his first target did not even have a chance to appreciate before he was sent to the Well of Allsparks.
Movements swift and sure and with the same economy of movement Prowl displayed, Jazz glided to his second target and though the mech fought as best be could, a major energon line to his processor was sliced before there was any fight at all.
Jazz turned to see if Prowl needed help but then made swift work of finishing the first mech Prowl had downed who had not been extinguished, putting him out of his misery.
Then it was over, almost before it had even began. The two Autobots found themselves standing back to back in the now eerily silent valley. It had not even been a real fight. It had been a slaughter.
Prowl fought to keep his engine from revving at that thought. These were the enemy. He had done what was necessary to protect his Prime and, by extension, whatever mission was taking them to Simfur.
Speaking of, Jazz was already bent over one of the frames, plugged into his processor in search of whatever useful intelligence he could gather. Prowl looked away from the silver mech, searching the surrounding area for anything they might have missed. Better that Jazz be the one to search an off-lined mech's processor. It was not a task Prowl wanted, though he appreciated what could be gained from it. In fact, it was a process that made his tanks churn even more than being on the receiving end of a processor scan himself.
He settled for studying the results of Jazz's fight, and found them quite informative.
His doorwings told him when Jazz was finished. He spoke as Jazz stood, though he did not look at the silver minibot. "You have studied Diffusion?"
"Yeah." Jazz confirmed, walking up to stand beside him. "Since I was a third-frame younglin'. Like you, I guess."
Prowl nodded, then turned, looking down at the saboteur. They had worked as well together physically as they had mentally. "Perhaps we should spar some orn."
Jazz shot him a smile, his visor flashing. "Yeah. I'd like that."
A remarkably companionable silence filled the space between them for nearly a breem before Jazz made his way to each of the other off-lined mechs. This time, Prowl did watch. He knew better than most what Jazz was capable of, but he could also see the grimace that dominated the smaller mech's expression and knew that Jazz was not enjoying this particular aspect of his function and duty.
And yet Jazz still did exactly what had to be done. Just as Jazz had interrogated Prowl as a POW. Just as Jazz had torn apart Prowl's firewalls when he had crashed. Just as Jazz had scanned Prowl's processor the times it had been his duty to do so.
Prowl waited with respectful silence as Jazz finished. The silver mech shot him a guarded look. "That doesn't creep ya out?"
Prowl canted his helm a fraction. "It had to be done."
The tense set of Jazz's armor relaxed visibly as if he had been worried about Prowl's reaction to his scanning of off-lined mechs' processors. "Yeah."
"Did you find anything of use?" Prowl asked after a second.
Jazz released a huff of air and sent him a quick databurst, though he verbally recounted the highlights. "Not really. They had a seismic sensor on the main road. Actually they have a number of 'em all around Simfur. Apparently the five of us were enough to trigger it."
"I see." Prowl quickly reviewed the data and nodded. One or two mechs would not have triggered the sensors, but a larger party would. As the implications of that ran through his tactical computer Prowl looked at Jazz. "This is related to the reason for our mission, is it not?"
Jazz hesitated, glancing toward where engine sounds and a non-obtrusive ping on their communications systems indicated the Prime and the others were arriving. "It isn't my place ta tell ya that. If I could… but it isn't my choice."
Despite his irritation at the continued secrecy, Prowl felt an additional flicker of respect for the saboteur settle in his processor and spark. He understood the position Jazz was in and knew it was not enviable. He would not push Jazz because that would not be fair to the silver mech. The one mech who could make that decision was the one mech he had not asked directly.
In the mean time, Prowl nodded his acceptance of the situation to his…friend.
Silently they waited for Optimus, Ironhide and First Aid to join them.
Please, before you guys send me lots of notes about it, I am well aware that this chapter is not nearly as polished as it probably should be. In fact, it has been sitting in this state for over a week. I intended to have it up by Monday. But my family has experienced something of a 'minor' tragedy and, well, I have been in a really bad place that I am only just starting to crawl out of. You have no idea how hard I had to work to keep this chapter from becoming so dark that it would have been unrecognizable as my work and would have completely derailed the entire story. Just be glad I was able to put anything up at all.
I will, if grammatical errors are just too distracting, go over it again once things settle down. If you see something grammatical/spelling you feel you must comment on, please be specific. I have spent so much of the last week in tears that I don't have the energy to guess right now.
Anyway. On a happier note, this chapter is finally getting back to where my original outline left off. *Cue applause* Once more, my thanks to everyone who argued/talked/begged me into expanding the time jump that would have glossed over the excitement of the last handful of chapters. *Bows humbly*
As always, I find your reviews insightful, motivating and inspiring, please keep them coming.
