14: Retrospect

Prowl's office door was always open. It wasn't that he was inviting visitors, so Swoop had always thought, but simply that he wanted to keep an eye on what was happening outside of his door. The thought was not entirely comforting. Steeling herself, firmly reminding herself that she had every right to talk to him – to question him, even – if she wanted to, Swoop cautiously poked her head into the room.

The humans had a name for Prowl's decorating style, such as it was. It was a name borrowed from an ancient warrior culture of their own: Spartan. The description suited Prowl's office well. The room contained little besides a simple desk housing a computer station, a set of shelves holding a neatly-arranged and organized array of datapads, and a few chairs. But as bare as it was, it somehow suited him. One warrior ideal was to need little; Prowl was a perfect reflection of that warrior ideal among many others.

He was at his desk, absorbed in whatever was displayed on the computer screen in front of him. For a moment, Swoop had second…third…fourth thoughts about speaking with him, but she determinedly put them aside and rapped her knuckles lightly on the doorjamb to get his attention.

Immediately, Prowl looked up, and almost as immediately his full attention wholly focused, crystallized, on Swoop. Before he could say anything and before she could allow herself to feel completely intimidated, Swoop determinedly asked, "Do you have a few minutes, Prowl?"

"For you," he answered smoothly after a blink of surprise, "I have hours. Please, come in," he added, and he gestured at one of the chairs on the other side of his desk. When Swoop had settled herself into it, he asked, "What may I do for you, Swoop?"

Swoop bit down nervously on her lower lip, her fingers clenching reflexively around the arm of her chair. She'd wandered around the corridors of Autobot Headquarters for a while before finally working her way to Prowl's office. All the while, she'd been rehearsing what she'd say to him. But she found that once she was sitting and facing him, her scripted conversations left her, evaporated, leaving her flying blind. This, in combination with Prowl's level, polite, but expectant stare, ramped up her anxiety by another notch or two, but she forced her childish jitters aside.

"I have two things," she said quietly, hesitantly. "One is a heads-up, the other a…question."

Prowl gave her a silent, polite acknowledging nod, and Swoop decided to get the easier issue out of the way first.

"As you may or may not know," she said levelly, "Starscream and I…attempted to break the imprint between us several days ago."

"So I'd heard," Prowl answered, nodding.

"Our attempt appears to have been unsuccessful," Swoop reported matter-of-factly.

"I'm very sorry," Prowl murmured.

Swoop shrugged as she said, "We knew there were no guarantees involved. And we'll all continue thinking about and looking for alternatives." Then she sighed as she added, "But it's very likely that future…accommodations…will need to be made because it could very well be a permanent condition. I've already reported this to Optimus Prime, and he said that I should tell you, so that you can inform the personnel who'll need to know."

Prowl sat back in his chair, and Swoop was surprised to see dismay on his face.

"Passing the buck again," he murmured.

Swoop smiled fractionally.

"He calls it 'delegating,'" she said, and her tone almost managed to be light.

"Oh, I'm very aware of what he calls it," Prowl grimly remarked. He got up out of his chair then, began to pace the small confines of his office. "This is a potential security nightmare," he said, almost wearily.

"I know," Swoop answered. "But it isn't something that I have much of a choice about. Or any control over. On the plus side, he's…here, and from what he says, due to the circumstances of his departure and because he didn't kill me as he had been ordered to do, he's not likely to be welcomed back into the Decepticon fold. So, he's likely not going anywhere, either."

Prowl made a noncommittal noise and continued to pace.

"What is his status now?" he eventually asked.

"Right now," Swoop answered, "he's in the medbay. We've been constantly monitoring his spark's energy signature to see if it changes, but since it's been a few days now and there's been no change, we—"

"He should be moved to the brig," Prowl unexpectedly interrupted, his voice almost a growl.

Swoop frowned at that, surprised at both the interruption and at the obvious irritation in his voice.

"I don't think that's necessary," she asserted levelly. "He's disarmed, has no access to any of our computers or sensitive systems, and is under constant guard – Dinobot guard. Grimlock and Slag won't let him out of their sight. And he's done nothing threatening since he's been here."

"Because he's been mostly incapacitated most of the time, either physically or…mentally," Prowl spat, with more feeling than Swoop had ever heard from him. "He should just be done away with," Prowl continued vehemently. "Then you wouldn't have to worry about any imprint."

It wasn't in Prowl's nature to be facetious, and for some reason his suggestion irritated Swoop. She rose from her chair then and turned to face him, and perhaps because she was irritated he suddenly didn't seem nearly so intimidating to her. She folded her arms over her chest and spat back at Prowl, "Just what is it between you two?"

Her tone gave Prowl pause, and when he looked over at her, for a fleeting moment he saw not her but her mother. The stance was the same. The way that she raised her chin at him was the same. The way that her eyes narrowed at him peevishly was the same. Even the voice was disturbingly the same, particularly so now that Swoop was apparently outraged. It was all somewhat disturbing, and Prowl had to blink a few times before the apparition dissipated and it was Swoop standing there again.

But she was a different Swoop now, and the changes were not merely physical. Unschooled and unprepared for her position as she was, she was only just beginning to discover the depths of the power that she wielded. But it was already flowing out of her sometimes, all unconsciously, mostly in involuntary flashes when she was angry or outraged about something. On those occasions, Prowl found himself in an odd position. She'd always been meek, particularly so for a Dinobot, and rather unassuming, content to spend her time mostly in the medbay. Most importantly, whenever they'd had cause to interact, Prowl had always had authority over her. But with each passing day since the revelation of her true identity, her true status, whether she realized it or not, Swoop was becoming less meek…and now she had authority over him, over all of them, whether or not she'd fully realized it. And she was waiting for him, now, waiting for him to answer her question, for she clearly expected an answer.

"It's a long story," Prowl answered with a sigh. "Suffice it to say that to me, he is a triple offense. He is a liar, and a coward, and a traitor."

Swoop almost laughed.

"Funny," she said mildly. "He says the same thing about you. The traitor part, I mean."

Prowl narrowed his eyes at her in annoyance.

"I left Megatron," he said quietly, "on principle. Starscream…indulges in treachery for fun. Because it gives him a thrill. He has a silver tongue, and he will say exactly what you want to hear, all the while working on plans to stab you in the back. Which he will do once he decides that it's to his advantage to do so. Don't make the mistake of trusting anything that he says. Don't make the mistake of trusting him, period. Lest you forget, he killed three of your siblings, I believe, and who knows how many other people during the uprising. With no remorse whatsoever."

Silence reigned between them after that, Swoop thinking and Prowl reining in his rarely-expressed emotions. Starscream, and talking about Starscream, was one of the few things that could still make him lose control; he'd conquered most of the others.

"Mmmm," Swoop eventually responded, quietly. "And how many people did you kill during the uprising, Prowl? How much remorse did you have?"

Prowl stared at her, blinking, not at all expecting such a response and not having an answer for her, not before she had already continued.

"How many people did…oh, Sunstreaker kill? Sunstreaker doesn't know the meaning of the word remorse and is only with us, as I understand it, because he has some personal scores to settle with certain Decepticons. How about Sideswipe? Brawn? In the end," she continued relentlessly, "am I supposed to hate all of the warriors who participated in the uprising or only those who didn't have second thoughts about it afterward? Or should I only not hate those who chose to sit out the whole thing?"

Prowl continued to just stare at her.

"Hey, I have an idea!" she exclaimed when he said nothing. "How about if I just hate…nobody? Not you. Not Starscream. Not even Megatron. You've all got blood on your hands, so as far as I'm concerned none of you can claim the moral high ground on the issue of the uprising. So how about if we just leave the past in the past and deal with the present instead? Because really? I'm tired of being told to think something or do something or feel a certain way about someone because of something that happened thousands of years ago to people that I never knew, even though they were my family. Mirage is completely stuck in the past, and I don't want to be that way. I want to…move on."

Prowl finally found his voice.

"That's…probably a wise course of action," he said quietly. "We're all perhaps fortunate that you have the freedom to think that way."

"It's just a choice, Prowl," Swoop answered, equally quietly. "All of us can choose to hold grudges and live in the past or…not. It's easier for me to make that choice because I have no direct experience of the uprising, sure, but at some point, we're all going to have to make the choice about when we're going to live."

"True," Prowl agreed, settling himself to perch on the corner of his desk while studying Swoop intensely, measuringly, of a sudden. She had to fight the urge to take a few reflexive steps backward, away from him, under his scrutiny. Eventually, Prowl added, "But all of that doesn't change the fact that Starscream…is Starscream."

"Because no one ever changes," Swoop asserted flatly.

"What's the saying?" Prowl responded. "'The leopard can't change his spots'?"

"He isn't a leopard," Swoop pointed out.

"But he's every bit as spotty," Prowl immediately countered. He cocked his head to one side and then thoughtfully asked of her, "Has he been telling you that he's changed, then?"

"Actually, no," Swoop answered calmly. "He's made no such claim. He also hasn't told me anything that I want to hear, although he seems quite happy to tell me things that I don't want to hear," she added. "And he managed to totally miss not one but a number of perfect opportunities to stab me in the back, figuratively and literally, even though he has a pretty good motive to kill me now, what with the imprint that doesn't end. So…Imagine that."

Prowl frowned at her. "Interesting," was his only response before he thoughtfully added, "Perhaps he's changing tactics."

"Or perhaps," Swoop said, "it's just to his advantage at the moment to not be Starscream." At Prowl's quizzical look, she added, "Don't worry, Prowl. I don't trust him. And…in general, I agree with you. But still, I'm not going to toss him in the brig unless he gives me reason to. And he's not going to be questioned, either," she added, making air quotes around the word "questioned."

Prowl gave her an arch look.

"Since when is that your decision to make?" he asked, although, really, he already knew the answer to that question. And apparently so did Swoop, if her serene smile was any indication.

"Since about, what? Two months ago now?" she answered airily. At Prowl's sharp look in response, Swoop repeated, "Don't worry. I have no real interest in pulling rank. But…You should know that I will protect Starscream, at least for the foreseeable future. I need him, and for now I want to give him reason to trust me."

Prowl thought about arguing, but she had her chin raised at him, and he knew what that meant. Or at least he knew what it had meant when her mother had done it, and he had a sneaking suspicion that the gesture had an identical meaning coming from Swoop.

"As you wish," he relented grudgingly.

"And speaking of things that Starscream has told me," Swoop ventured after a moment, her tone quieter and suddenly less confident, "I have…a few questions."

Her apprehension was back. She suspected, though, that it had less to do with a fear of Prowl and more to do with a fear of another of those bombshells that tended to rip apart her understanding of things. Prowl was looking at her, his head tilted inquisitively to the side.

"Yes?" he calmly, patiently prompted as she searched for words.

"Starscream told me," Swoop eventually, quietly said, "something about Megatron's plan for the uprising and its…aftermath. That I wasn't supposed to die. That I was supposed to replace my mother when I matured."

Prowl nodded.

"That was his plan, yes," he confirmed mildly.

"He told me that things went…awry, though."

Prowl snorted lightly.

"Indeed they did," he agreed. "In more ways than one."

"And he seems to think that you had a lot to do with that," Swoop concluded.

Prowl looked at Swoop sharply, and she could have sworn that there was amusement on his face.

"Does he now?" Prowl responded thoughtfully. Then he shrugged and said, almost to himself, "Apparently, Starscream might be slightly smarter than I give him credit for."

"So it's true, then?" Swoop said hesitantly, and it was half statement and half question.

"Yes," Prowl answered, then qualified, "To a certain degree. But Starscream's…thinking…about the situation can't be entirely correct. I guarantee you that he is…what's the saying? 'Barking down the wrong shrub?'"

"Barking up the wrong tree," Swoop corrected with something of a grin. Prowl was as bad with strange human sayings as Grimlock was.

"Whatever," Prowl responded, waving at her dismissively.

Swoop regarded him curiously for a moment, her brow furrowed in thought, before asking, "What makes you so certain that Starscream doesn't have it all figured out?"

"Because," Prowl answered calmly, "if Starscream had it all correctly 'figured out,' certain things would be much different, I should think."

Swoop frowned at that, still curious.

"Would you care to enlighten me?" she asked, but her tone made it quite obvious that it wasn't a request.

"What else has Starscream told you about what he suspects?" Prowl asked first, out of curiosity more than anything else. He knew that Starscream had been suspicious of him, all those years ago, and apparently he still was, enough so to maneuver Swoop into asking questions, perhaps figuring that, of anyone, he'd be compelled to tell her the truth. And now Prowl found himself perversely curious as to how close Starscream was to the truth.

But Swoop shook her head and shrugged.

"Not much," she admitted. "I think he only told me what little he told me because I was angry, and he wanted to shut me up. The only other thing I know is that he believes that you had an accomplice, one who would know how to remove my spark safely."

Prowl made a noncommittal noise at that.

"I had three 'accomplices,' actually," he told Swoop, who gave him a surprised look as he continued. "One was Hook," he said, "whose function was indeed to safely remove your spark. He had the technical knowledge to do so, and he was a civil who had been…conscripted…to the cause, something that is rarely 100% effective. So it was easy enough to convince him. But I doubt that he remembers being involved anymore."

Swoop frowned deeply at him.

"Why wouldn't he?" she asked, perplexed.

"Because he and his gestaltmates became…troublesome. They had to be conscripted again, not long before I left."

Swoop's frown managed to deepen even more as she asked, "Why do I get the sense that you're using the word 'conscripted' but meaning something else entirely?" At the odd look that Prowl gave her, she quickly amended, "No, don't tell me. On second thought, I don't want to know."

Prowl actually smiled at her, fractionally.

"A wise decision, my queen," he said, approvingly.

Swoop glanced at him, surprised at the use of the honorific; no one else amongst the Autobots had felt so compelled, so far. Then again, this was Prowl, and because of that perhaps she shouldn't have been surprised.

"Who were the others?" she asked him after a moment.

"The second was Astrotrain," Prowl answered readily enough, "but as it turned out his part in the plan never happened. And since he was contacted and given instructions via a third, neutral, party, he never knew much in the first place."

"And the third?" Swoop asked.

And Prowl actually hesitated. He rose from his perch on the corner of his desk and paced again for a contemplative moment before eventually turning back to Swoop.

"The third," he announced quietly, "was Thundercracker."

Swoop blinked slowly at him once. Twice.

"Thundercracker?" she echoed, for a moment crazily certain that she had misheard him.

"Thundercracker," Prowl confirmed with a nod, and when Swoop just continued to blink blandly at him, he added, "Big? Blue? Flies?"

"I know who Thundercracker is," Swoop responded peevishly. "I just…I don't…I don't understand why…"

"He had…personal reasons," Prowl answered. "And in point of fact, he was not my accomplice. I was his."

"It was his idea," Swoop realized dazedly, once she had deduced his meaning.

"Yes," Prowl answered, although she hadn't really asked a question. "His idea, my plan. Except that things didn't go exactly according to that plan." At the look Swoop gave him, he added, "You weren't supposed to end up in stasis. In fact, you weren't supposed to remain on Cybertron at all, which was why we had needed Astrotrain. What we had planned was, essentially, a kidnapping to keep you away from Megatron, but as it turned out…"

Swoop had started to pace even before Prowl's voice trailed off, her mind whirling. She had been barking up the wrong tree, indeed. She had been giving Prowl all sorts of credit for nobility. Starscream had been giving him grudging credit for nobility or at least for proper dedication to her family. But that hadn't really been the case at all. It hadn't been Prowl at all, not really. He had only decided or had been convinced to do what he did best: formulate a plan. If anyone had been truly noble, it had been…

"Why?" she plaintively asked, overwhelmed.

Prowl gave her a troubled look and thought about lying. But given that he'd just held up lying as one of Starscream's cardinal sins, he knew that in good conscience he couldn't do that. Yet, he knew that he couldn't tell her the truth, either. So that left evasion.

"I can't tell you that," he said with genuine regret. "I'm sorry, my queen, but I can't."

Swoop gave him a hard look.

"Because you don't know?" she asked demandingly, almost imperiously, and it was another opportunity for him to lie. Another opportunity that he didn't take. He shook his head.

"No, I know why," he answered quietly. "I know exactly why. But it isn't my place to tell you. You'll have to ask him."

"Sure," Swoop responded acidly. "The next time I'm trying to blow him out of the sky, I'll take a moment to have a friendly chat first."

Prowl gave her a wry look, and then he reached for a datapad that was lying on his desk. He dumped the data that it contained and then tapped some new information into it. And then he wordlessly handed the device to Swoop, who took it from him with a quizzical frown.

"What's this?" she asked.

"That," Prowl answered, "is a private comm frequency that will get you through directly to Thundercracker. It's heavily encrypted, so when and if you decide to call, you shouldn't set off any alarms either here or at Decepticon Headquarters."

Swoop frowned at him.

"You've been in contact with him all this time?" she asked, somewhat amazed.

Prowl shook his head.

"No, not at all," he answered mildly. "Not since shortly before we left Cybertron, at any rate. In the unlikely event that you had survived the war while in the stasis vault on Cybertron, and in the extremely unlikely event that you had ended up being one of the sparks that we brought with us, and in the even more extremely unlikely event that you subsequently ended up being joined with a body at some point in time…he wanted to be kept informed. So, since you've beaten extraordinary odds against you…" He shrugged as his voice trailed off.

"Have you contacted him?" Swoop asked. "About me, I mean?"

"No," Prowl answered quietly. "No, I decided to leave that to you…in the event that you thought to ask me what happened before he found out about you himself. Whether or not you contact him now is entirely your decision to make."

Swoop stared down at the datapad in her hands, trying to coax her whirling thoughts into settling. She didn't have much luck. Dazedly, she turned away from Prowl and began to head toward his office door, intent on finding someplace quiet, where she could sit down, alone, and think. She was steps away from the door when it occurred to her that she was forgetting something. She halted her retreat abruptly and turned to face Prowl again.

"Thank you, Prowl," she said quietly. "Thank you for this," she said, waving the datapad in the air, "but more than that…thank you for your part in saving me. I…I owe you my life, and that's more than I can ever repay."

Prowl inclined his head, acknowledging her words, but he said, "You owe me nothing, my queen. I was…merely trying to do something of my duty in an otherwise untenable situation. But I am gratified that I, that we, managed to succeed in the long run, even though very little went according to plan."

Swoop smiled.

"You do know what they say about the best laid plans, don't you?" she teased lightly.

Prowl grimaced.

"Oh, I'm very familiar with that one, yes," he answered ruefully.

Swoop only smiled at him again, and then she was gone.

Oh, what a tangled web we weave…Poor Swoop. I keep dumping crap on her. And it's only going to get worse for her, poor girl, starting with the very next chapter…