Hi again, here is the second update. Enjoy ya'll and see you again after NaNoWriMo!

Millenium - one hundred centivorn

Centivorn - one hundred vorn

And just so ya'll are up to date, the muse has given me some more material to work with for the end of this story and there is either going to be a reaaaaaaaaally long last chapter or I am going to split it. So, 1-2 more chapters and this is finished.

Chapter 7:

The council had summoned him.

They had caught wind of his decision to reassign his officers to his palace and they were less than pleased. The officers were ecstatic however, and it evidenced itself in an increase in base productivity and morale.

Optimus refused to remove that simply because a bunch of pompous bureaucrats dictated it should be so. He also intended to use the summons as an opportunity to demonstrate to Prowl his sincerity and dedication to changing the previous regime's foul policies. The wary Praxian was following behind him in perfect parade formation at the moment and looked completely in command of his surroundings. However, the slight down-twitch of his doorwings whenever Optimus glanced back at him betrayed the SIC's true mental state.

They entered the council chamber in the first Celestial Spire and took their places on the interrogation dais. The platform's true designation was the Seat of Enlightenment, but no one save the councilors referred to it as that. Everyone knew that if you were summoned to Enlightenment you were going to be questioned to very limit of your functioning with extreme prejudice.

Optimus gazed around the room taking in the difference in perspective. Normally, he would sit on the Primal Throne which was near the top of the domed chamber, but the Seat of Enlightenment was on the ground floor. The whole place was shaped like an oval that had been flattened on one of the short ends and the straight wall bore massive doubled doors through which the Assembly of Witnesses would enter, if the council had still been in the habit of permitting outsiders to witness their deliberations. The Assembly would have sat in the stadium-like seating that was placed to the left and right of the doors and each set would have comfortably held at least ten thousand mecha. They were empty now, as they had been for many vorn, and the mechless seats seemed to cry out warning that where secrecy had taken root justice had been choked out.

It haunted the Prime so he turned to view the rest of the area. One quarter of the room was occupied by assembly seating and the rest by the senators and councilors. There were five hundred senator seats on the left and five hundred on the right. The back center possessed the two hundred councilor chairs. Each of the senatorial sections were split into one hundred seat segments by stately round columns and discrete doorways. As Optimus took this in he began to note the level of opulence displayed in this one chamber. The floors were organic marble split into geometric patterns by strips of platinum and electrum. The metal columns were plated in fractal swirls of jadeite and other precious gemstones. All of the desks and chairs had inlays of authentic organic wood. A fractured piece of any one of these, even a chip of the floor, would provide enough credits to support a low-class family for vorns.

The very thought of it sickened him.

Sadly, there was not much he could do about it at the moment. He was too busy trying to regulate the council's frivolous laws and preparing a defense against the Decepticon rebels massing around Kaon. The rebels had been beaten back from Iacon by the Global Security Forces with enough casualties that it would be a while before thy recovered enough to try again. Iacon had not suffered numerically the way the insurgents did, but the loss of over half of the senators and all but twelve of the councilors, not to mention the assassination of Sentinel, had struck the city's sense of safety low.

Optimus wanted to sue for peace, however, given that the Decepticons had technically been the victors of the incursion, to propose treaty talks now would put Iacon in a weak position bordering just shy of surrender during the negotiations. There was also the problem that the council refused to acknowledge the Decepticons as anything but terrorists, regardless of the fact that the rebels had legitimate grievances against the planet's ruling frame. The lower classes had been oppressed and mistreated for so long that it was no wonder that they felt violence was their only option.

He intended to change that, but first he was going to have to put himself in a better position to negotiate equal terms. Even though that meant acknowledging, and responding to, the war the Decepticons had begun.

The council members were taking their seats, so the young Prime put his thoughts to the back of his meta and gave his attention to the matter at servo.

-|-/\^/\-|-

Prowl was nervous, scratch that, Prowl was terrified. The current Lord Prime had never ordered the Praxian to accompany him to a council hearing before and Sentinel Prime had only done so when he wanted to make sure the doorwinger was on servo immediately after. The SIC surreptitiously started warming up the torture resistance protocols he had begun using after the first centivorn of his service to Sentinel Prime. The blue mehc had always managed to drive him past even the protocols' pain thresholds, but the emotional detachment always held. It was the only way he could have survived it.

Prowl had not used them since the old Prime's deactivation, but they had always remained on standby for the moment when Optimus Prime chose to show his true colors. The Praxian knew that the end of this meeting would be that time.

Councilor Xaaron was currently excoriating the Prime on behalf of the rest and the judgmental glares held such disapproval. He went on and on about how the palace rooms were guest chambers for visiting dignitaries and that the honor of using those chambers were a reward for those civil servants with whom the council was most pleased. He also said that it was the council's responsibility to determine how they were allocated and mentioned at length that the Prime had overstepped his purview. Prowl knew that all the pent up emotion being built up in the Prime would be turned upon him as soon as the reprimand ended and he found himself silently begging the council for mercy so that his own suffering would be at least marginally less.

-|-/\^/\-|-

Xaaron paused for a moment in his diatribe and it was then that Optimus made his defense.

He arose from his seat and strode forward to the edge of the dais. His shoulders were squared, his arms clasped behind his back, and his helm held up proudly. He felt the Matrix thrum its support in his chest, and though he himself could not see it, for just a moment he glowed.

The councilors started at his sudden, brazen movement, but before any of them could protest his unsanctioned approach, he began to speak. "You would have me maintain an empty palace and relegate my officers to cramped block housing for the reason that visiting dignitaries need a proper place to stay that reflects their status. However, I say to you that such 'perks' are both unnecessary and wasteful. To prove my point I offer these examples: Emirate Xeon of Kaon owns a suite in the north towers and a flat in the Translucentica Heights; Lord Traachon of Altihex has a penthouse in the south towers; Emperion Decimus possesses a mobile platform that orbits Iacon when between mining outposts; Lord Sherma of Protihex has a residence in the Translucentica Heights and owns the entirety of the eastmost tower in the north quadrant. This list continues on for every mech that holds a ruling seat or diplomatic brief on this planet with the exceptions of Lords Starscream and Shockwave of Vos and Tarn respectively. You would have me believe that denying these officials a suite in my home would cause them the difficulty of acquiring a place to stay when they are in Iacon, but the clear evidence to the contrary proves you wrong!

Furthermore, your pretentious suppositions concerning your rights to rule over my decisions are appalling! The laws of Cybertron clearly state that the Prime is the Supreme Ruler whose every word is law, yet you would pretend to have authority over me. And again, it is stated in the laws that the DecagonPalace belongs in whole to the Prime and he may do with it as he wills.

Therefore, I will that my home shall host only those whom I deem most worthy, and right now, that is my officers. This council inquisition is hereby adjourned, have a good orn gentlemechs."

Optimus Prime turned on his ped stabilizer and left.

-|-/\^/\-|-

Prowl had done it. He had finally found a replacement.

The journey to this point had been rife with mishaps. After Dissever's reassignment Prowl had endured four other hopefuls and each had been a disaster.

First, there had been the ex-historian who believed that High Command needed to go back to the old ways and tried to transpose the entire database to aluminum paper. Then, there was the New Age youngling who decided that it was a waste of space to store reports older than ten centivorn and had nearly deleted them permanently before Prowl discovered what he was trying to do. The poor Praxian had been forced to postpone his next interview for two orns while he pulled triple-shifts to fix the damage.

It was most likely the lack of recharge that addled his processor into thinking a vocally challenged minibot could do the job. Warpath was nice enough and his secretarial skills were average. However, his glitch of spontaneously uttered expletives would make his position awkward at best and a diplomatic incident at worst.

The fourth candidate post-Dissever had been the worst though. Professionally the mech was perfect, it was his personal habit that left much to be desired. The mech was a hopeless romantic and believed that 'somewhere out there is a prince just waiting to take me home to his tower.' Prowl had done his best to ignore the simpering, until he realized that the mech saw all the other commanding officers as 'princes' needing 'wooing'.

Now, however, everything was fixed and Rolodeks was set to take over the Administrative Assistant position. Whether the new assistant would also retain the Second-in-Command title would be up to the Prime. It was none too soon either, as the Prime's abnormal behavior was starting to germinate a seed of hope within the stoic Praxian. He still remembered with perfect clarity what had happened after the Lord Prime's summoning a decacycle previous.

The councilors and senators screamed their outrage at the Prime's departure, but Prowl did not register any of it. His focus narrowed down to his proximity to the Prime and the events that were in his future. He watched the great red and blue mech take a deep in-vent and release it.

*Here it comes.* Prowl thought.

The Prime turned his gaze upon the SIC and the Praxian began to quake inside.

"Thank you for the moral support Prowl. I could not have done that by myself without much trepidation. Having you at my back made that much easier. So, again, thank you." said the Prime. "Have a peaceful orn Prowl."

The doorwinger stood there in shock while his superior walked away. This was completely different from anything Prowl had been anticipating and now he did not know what to think.

He spent the rest of the orn holed up in his office trying to figure it out.

The illogical behavior had continued too, and not just with Prowl. Everywhere Optimus Prime went he complimented, and he always had a kind word of thanks for all his subordinated. Though this did not mean he was soft by any measure. The Lord Prime was unafraid of disciplining the officers, but only when they actually deserved it. Even then he was always both gentle and fair.

Prowl knew that most of Command had reconsidered their resignations and opted to stay. A few had actually taken advantage of the new Prime's benevolence to request long-desired transfers to other postings. Sentinel Prime never allowed mecha to choose their own Departments, instead he had assigned everyone to a job based on how useful he felt they could be to him. It therefore came as a surprise to Prowl when Optimus Prime not only accepted the transfers, but also wished the transferees happiness in their new jobs.

The event that changed Prowl's outlook the most though, was the orn the Prime cleaned house. Every last trouble-maker, would-be sadist, every depraved predator, ped-licker, and the rest of Sentinel Prime's minions were rounded up and arrested. They were publicly castigated for their crimes and suffered punishments ranging from permanent dismissal from all public offices to functioning-long imprisonment.

For the remainder of the undecided officers this was the last test that determined for them that Optimus Prime was truly different than his predecessors. There were still many officers who felt themselves to be too old to continue toughing it out in a young mech's world and were retiring to make way for fresher, more eager mecha. However, even then they left promises of willingness to return should the young Prime need mentors for his soldiers.

Prowl wished he could be like them and trust that things would be different. He wanted to give in to his hope so desperately, but he had been endured far beyond what anymech else had suffered. He could not even walk by the Prime's office without flinching back. He believed now that Optimus Prime was different, but the blue and gold spectre still overshadowed the High Command building with too many horrible memories.

Prowl knew that Rolodeks would be well cared for by the kindly new Prime and no longer held any qualms about leaving another mech to be a potential punching bag. Which was why he was currently waiting for admittance to the Prime's office to complete the datawork that would finalize his retirement.

The door slid open and Prowl entered. He greeted the Prime and servoed over the stack of datapads that would release him from service. Then he waited as the Prime went through them checking for completeness and adding his glyph where needed. When the red and blue mech was finished Prowl expected to be dismissed to freedom, but instead the Prime asked him to be seated.

Prowl complied, but he could feel the tremors in his wings reflecting his renewed inner dread. All of the confidence he had built up earlier was drifting away as his processors raced to find a plausible reason for the delay.

Was the Lord Prime finally showing his true colors and refusing to honor his resignation? Had he perhaps found a loophole that would allow that? Was he going to force him to stay?

Then Optimus addressed him. "I have said this before, but I believe it merits repeating. You are an admirable mech. In the short time I have known you, you have proved yourself efficient, knowledgeable, courteous, and above all, courageous."

Prowl's wings flicked in puzzlement, where was the Prime going with this?

"I make reference to your valor for several reasons. Firstly, no mech can know the temperament of one whom they are not acquainted, and yet despite this, you still bravely came to me to show me where I was erring. Secondly, the Matrix has revealed to me all that you suffered at the servos of my predecessor and it horrified me. There are no words I can speak nor apologies that I can give that will undo or heal the unthinkable crimes committed against you. I know he made you feel worthless and insignificant, but I want you to know that you are the strongest mech I have ever known simply for having survived."

The Praxian's doorwings were openly quivering now and there was nothing he could do to get them back under control. He was beyond thought, he had never wanted anyone to know what had happened to him, he wanted to pretend it never occurred, he wanted it to go away, and now the new Prime was ripping away his protective veil of denial. Prowl was being forced to face his trauma and he wanted nothing more than to run far, far away. The Prime continued though. "I know it cannot make past events better, but there are a few things I need you to know for the future. First, though it is not known outside the council and they will most likely be furious that I am telling you, Sentinel was not a Prime. He held the title and performed the office, however, it was a lie. I think he believed himself a Prime, the council certainly told him as much, but the Matrix told me it did not choose him. It could never choose one who possessed as much evil as Sentinel did, and although I know that does not change what he did, I did not want you to think him an example of my lineage. I also want you to know that I am not him. I had hoped that our work together over the past few decacycles would show you my character. However, knowing my character and trusting in me are two very different things, which is why I am letting you go. You need time and space to heal and that will not be possible here. You also need time to observe me and my actions fully so that you can see if I speak the truth, something that I do not think will happen when you fear being anywhere near me. There will always be a place in command structure waiting for you should you ever decide to return."

Prowl was ready to crash from sheer relief, but managed to hold an external calm. Optimus Prime arose from his seat and the former SIC did likewise. They saluted one another and the Prime gave the final salutations. "Civilian General Prowl of Praxus, I hereby release you in good standing from your position in Iacon High Command. It has been an honor to serve with you and it has been a credit to this planet that you have served. May your functioning be long and peaceful."

-|-/\^/\-|-

Prowl did not remember leaving the Command Compound. He vaguely remembered returning the Prime's farewell, but everything after that was a blur until now. He stood at the top of the steps and looked out over Iacon. He was free.

He paused as that sank in.

He. Was. FREE.

For the first time in nearly a millennium a genuine smile crossed Prowl's faceplates. He took a deep in-vent, wings held high and proud, and walked swiftly in the direction of the planetary transport hub.

A long overdue reunion awaited him.

First I would like to say welcome to new reviewers Foresthunter and DarkShell, and thank you both for the lovely reviews!

kkcliffy: I know, I personally expected this story to last much longer, but it has come together nicely. Hopefully I will be able to stretch it to 9 chapters, but we'll see. No, Prowl does not know how to react, but one has to remember that he has been living a life of trauma for so long that any niceness is practically unconceivable. He will eventually accept the new way, but it will be a long road for him, not all of which is going to get screen time because honestly I'd be writing well into 40 or so chapters to document all the healing. Yeah, I could not wait to get rid of the dirt-bags, been waiting since the third chapter to do that. Glad you liked it and thanks for all the awesome feedback!