So, I have good news, better news, and best news. First, all of the delays in my posting schedule have finally been resolved by a promotion in rl of all things. Weirdly enough, despite getting better pay and more hours, the amount of work assigned to me is less than when I first started working there. Perks of position, maybe? Second, the extra time for writing is helping me to write longer, more substantial chapters while still maintaining a 1 month maximum posting time. The last, and probably best for y'all, is that this is the first of a double posting. Chapter 4 is finished and I am in the process of getting it typed up, provided all goes to plan it will be up by the end of the week.

The standard drill of read and review should be fairly well driven into your helms by now, so enjoy!

Chapter 3:

Prowl gazed at the wall longingly, wondering as he did, if Ratchet would forgive him for knocking himself out with it. For Prowl was currently very done with his functioning. Now, the reason for this doneness was multifaceted. First, Jazz was plotting, and as much as Prowl had come to dearly love the annoying saboteur, he still despised it when his friend plotted. It meant that any number of the tactician's plans were about to need reworking as the chaos master meddled and toyed with the Decepticons.

Second, as though the first item were not enough to make oblivion a sore temptation, he had acquired a secret admirer. This development was disturbing to him as the gifts were those that an alpha mech would give to a beta. If Prowl had been a beta he likely would have been very flattered as most of them were very well thought out, however, he was in fact an alpha. For one alpha to court another was a great insult and implied that the courted mech was not worthy of the alpha coding. Prowl continually reminded himself that his suitor did not mean it, but it rarely pacified his coding.

However, the thing that was truly and completely making him contemplate the force vectors between his helm and the wall was in fact two things, The Twins. The two frontliners had come to Iacon in the same troop shipment as Jazz, but when it was discovered that they were possibly the last practitioners of the rare Jet Judo they were quickly shipped to a base where their skill could be used at optimum efficiency. How two Kaonites had managed to learn a Praxian martial art had never been revealed, not that Prowl cared given how jealously he guarded any recovered piece of his culture now. Unfortunately, their effectiveness was almost completely diminished half a vorn into their tenure. They had stopped visiting the medbay after battle and barricaded themselves in their berthroom. Any mech who tried to get them to come out for medical treatment ended up needing it themselves. Their extreme aggression escalated until it took half the base's MPs to force the twins to accept medical care. Thus the twins were shipped elsewhere to become somemech else's problem. Of course, once they had learned to distrust their fellow Autobots it became a recurring problem and soon no base wanted them.

However, given the scale the army, Prowl likely never would have noticed the real problem if it had not been for Jazz. Jazz's network of gossip collectors was everywhere and by the twins' third transfer the saboteur was well on his way to investigating. The secrets he turned up were not pretty and when he was sure he had enough evidence he took it to Prowl. It was perfect timing too as Prowl had been presented with the twins' discharge datawork.

-1 Vorn Ago-

Prowl stared at his datapad in confusion. He had reread it three times and still was no closer to understanding it. For some unfathomable reason the pad seemed to be calling for the dishonorable discharge of one Sideswipe of Kaon and one Sunstreaker of Kaon, and that just could not be right. The twins had made an impression when he observed their initial bootcamp testing and he had never forgotten the unique mechs. He remembered the twins as being two of the best fighters he had ever seen and although they were a bit insular he never remembered having any disciplinary problems with them. He knew his choices in this matter were very limited; the court-martial had already taken place and the verdict given. Prowl's signature was merely a formality signifying that the datawork had been filed appropriately. To reopen the case now would be an insult to the prosecutors without reasonable cause for doing so.

Prowl's stylus hovered over the signature line.

Then the doorchime rang.

Prowl scanned for spark signature automatically and found that it was Jazz. That in itself was a surprise as the one thing that Prowl had learned since meeting Jazz was that the mech did not use doorbells. He usually just waltzed in to wherever he felt like going, smelt the consequences. Not that consequences were ever served. Somehow, the opsmech always seemed to know if Prowl had company and only ever intruded when the tactician was alone. As he considered the peculiarity of this deviation in the saboteur's behavior, the doorchime rang again. Allowing his curiosity to delay his decision on the twins Prowl opened the door to his nascent friend.

The Polyhexian who appeared in the portal was so serious that he hardly resembled the happy-go-lucky Jazz that Prowl had come to know. Prowl arched an optic ridge and motioned to his visitor's chair. Jazz sat and susbspaced two datapads, one of which he served off to Prowl.

"So, half a vorn ago one o' mah informants came ta meh wit' some strange happenin's that Ah think ya might want ta kno' about." Jazz began. "Now Ah kno' yah kno' tha' when Megatron put forth his true goal o' global dom'nation tha' tha Autobots saw a large influx in tha inlistment numbahs. Tha mecha tha' joined us did so fo' a pleth'ra o' reasons, not all o' which were noble or hon'rable. Since tha' time Ops has taken it upon themselves ta quietleh weed out tha chaff. We did this b'cuz if tha 'Cons were goin' ta reject rapists, psychopaths, n' sadists, though we both kno' tha policy on tha latter two has changed consid'rably, then so should we. Our methods fo' dealin' wit' these mecha vary from case ta case, as ya saw in tha mishap tha' befell tha torturers o' Blastah's littles. Now, recently a new type o' criminal mecha has been brought ta our attentions, thanks ta tha aforementioned Blastah, the spark fanatics. Mos' o' these mechs believe tha those who are Allspark Blessed or Vector Sigma Blessed are abberations ta be shunned from normal societeh. There is however, ah third prej'dice, n' as ya c'n see from tha evidence on ya datapad, this other group is in fact tha mos' dang'rous."

Prowl looked down and read through the report. It was very comprehensive. The first section was a security camera video file, it depicted a minibot medic hunched over the golden chassis of a familiar frontliner. The video switched to another camera to show a better angle. From the new vantage point Prowl could clearly see that the medic was not repairing the frontliner, but was instead using a laser scalpel to make nearly unnoticeable slits in the mech's primary energon lines leading into his spark. This attempted murder did not last long however, as the medic was tackled by a red blur. The blur devolved into Sideswipe, who began to summarily pound the would-be murderer into a sparking pulp. This continued for only a few kliks as the medic had sent out a distress call. The security detail that poured into Medical ripped Sideswipe off, but not before he sent the medic into stasis. The CMO entered on the heels of the security mechs and ordered the incoherently raging frontliner to be brigged. After Sideswipe's removal the heavy-plated doctor called for another medic to tend to the unconscious one while he finished up Sunstreaker. The CMO assumed that his staff member was sealing up the tiny leaks around the golden mech's spark and set about undoing the murderer's work.

The video ended and Prowl moved on to the attached notes. They reported that the second camera's footage had been erased, albeit poorly, from the base's files just prior to the investigation into why Sideswipe had attacked the medic. With only the first camera's testimony it had been ruled that Sideswipe had been reacting to his twin's subconscious pain, gone temporarily insane, and attacked the surgeon who was trying to save his brother's spark. A note was placed in their file that both twins had to be in stasis if one was being operated on for future safety. The report fuller detailed that it was not just the medic involved in this charade, but at least six other anti-twin mecha had been identified in this one base. The base had a history of 'accidentally' losing mecha with blessed gifts and non-standard spark traits.

Prowl looked up at Jazz in horror.

"Yup mech, this's what sta'ted it all." Jazz answered. "Now, Ah know mos' o' tha armeh woul' say tha' doesn' excuse the twinnies latah actions, but ta be frank Prowler, we're not'a real armeh. We're ah militia o' civilians."

Prowl frowned slightly. "An army of civilians is still an army, and the twins signed up to function under our rules just like every other Autobot."

"Yeah, they did." Jazz replied, then he arched an expectant optic ridge at the SIC.

Prowl's frown deepened, Jazz was trying to tell him something, but, as usual, was being obtuse about it. It was typical of their communication with one another. Jazz would give him hints and facts until Prowl came to the conclusion the saboteur wanted. It was irritating, but the process of puzzling Jazz's messages out often yield better, more innovative solutions than what Prowl could come up with on his own.

So the contemplation began. Prowl knew, that Jazz knew, that these spark fanatics would not be permitted to continue their reign of terror, so the problem the Polyhexian was setting before him was how to save the twins. Jazz had agreed that the twins were bound by the Autobot Code, so the solution had to be there.

According to the regulations the twins were responsible for their own actions. And then the lightbulb clicked on in Prowl's meta, what were the frontliners' actions? According to the court martial it was insubordination and unprovoked violence, however, in light of the hidden evidence their actions could be considered self-defense. There would be argument that their later actions were not admissible as self-defense, but the first incident had set a precedent for the twins that dictated their response to future events. Under the new classification, the most the Kaonites could be charged with was excessive violence in the line of defense. They would be required to complete an aggression management course with the Psychology Department, but they would be exonerated of everything else. The fanatics on the other servo would be revealed and prosecuted in full view of all of Cybertron, Prowl would make sure the Decepticons received a leaked copy of the trial, and hopefully it would relay a message as to the reward to those fanatics still unknown.

Prowl looked at Jazz, who was smirking broadly. "You are irritating."

"Figured out ah way ta save our mechs didja?" Jazz replied smugly.

Prowl rolled his optics. "Tell me more about the spark fanatics."

"Well," the saboteur began. "they believe tha' twins are creations o' Unicron meant ta spy upon n' destroy Primus' perfect creations. They also believe tha' glitches are abominations cursed by Primus. As ya c'n confirm wit' tha data on ya pad, at least twelve deactivations c'n be attr'buted ta this group. Each o' tha victims deactivated from complications n' infections post-surgery after havin' had this medic as their surgeon. Now, Ah know mos' would say tha' it was jus' coincidence, but these are tha onleh mechs he eva' lost. Couple tha' wit' tha video n' ya have some pretty strong evidence."

Prowl looked at the pad and confirmed that the deactivations of two empaths, a telepath, five glitched mechs, and a hive-mind quaterne were confirmed to have been deactivated by this groups and a score or more were suspected to be their servo-work. "I agree. Tell the twins to come to Iacon. I want to reopen their case."

-Present Orn-

The twins had been reluctant to trust either of them, but after Jazz showed them the evidence he had gathered they agreed to give the Autobots one more chance. Prime had given them a full pardon and even allowed them to participate in the mech hunt for the sparkcraft fanatics. Of course, they managed to get injured in the final capture which necessitated a trip to the Medbay. The ensuing showdown between the twins and Ratchet was, as Jazz would put it, epic. It was still spoken of with reverence in the rec-rooms on occasion. The interesting side-effect of Ratchet's 'don't give a frag' attitude when it came to dangerous patients resulted in the medic gaining two very protective bodyguards. The twins knew a good thing when they saw it and they had no intentions of letting their medic deactivate on them.

Now, however, with their permanent stationing in Iacon, the twins were bored. Because of this they often went on pranking sprees and ended up in Prowl's office for disciplinary measures. It was easy to see why their former Cos did not like them, as they always sprawled across his visitors' chairs like they owned them and replied to his corrections with sass or flippant remarks. He came down on them harder for that until Jazz pulled him aside to explain that Kaonites only behaved like that around mecha they liked and respected, otherwise they would have been surly and silent.

It had become one of the strangest friendships he had ever possessed and normally he appreciated their efforts to raise moral. Unfortunately, his emotions were still running high as he grieved and the twins' latest prank on the minibot barracks was almost the wire breaking the chronosteed's back. They were due in his office in a few kliks and Prowl was going to have to try really hard not to take his anger, at everything, out on them.

Mirage strode swiftly towards the Eastern Commissary for first meal. He was walking uncloaked for once thanks to a challenge from Hound to try to make himself more accessible to others. It was not nearly as terrifying as he thought it would be, though Mirage still longed for the protection his invisibility offered him from his detractors. He had informed the pair of his acceptance of their courtship, something they had been ecstatic to hear, but Mirage still had reservations about it. Mirage abhorred the loveless bonds of the Towers, but he had always looked forward to the art form that was a Tower's courtship. No one courted the way the Towers did, though the Praxians came close, and it felt like a piece of his spark was dying whenever he thought about not having that experience. He knew his courtiers would try in their own quaint way, but it was just not going to be the same.

As Mirage walked into the commissary he took a deep in-vent and let go of his impossible dream. To distract himself he analyzed the room's occupants in a mock ops assessment.

There was a pack of minibots being loud in the corner. They appeared to be celebrating somemech's orn of unfurling. A nanokliks watchfulness confirmed that it was the new mech, Cliffjumper, if Mirage remembered right, that was the patron of honor.

Eighteen ops mecha, always count them, always, were playing 'normal' at various tables around the room. Mirage would have to check with his commander later to see if it was just practice or if there was a risk assessment being performed; eighteen was twelve too many.

Optimus Prime had come out to socialize with the regular soldiers. Ironhide was grumping in the chair next to Prime, because his friend and charge was exposing himself to potential danger, again.

Jazz was sitting with the Prime, but was grinning like a loon at something in the corner. Hound and Trailbreaker's regular table was over there, so perhaps his unit commander intended to tease him over his new suitors.

Hound and Trailbreaker were indeed at their table and Hound was painted white.

Mirage did a double-take. The scout's dusty green armor had been cleaned and polished until it shone in a rich olive color. Overlaid on that was white filigree in the exact shade of Mirage's own plating. Interspersed in the lace-like patterns in the lace-like patterns were glyphs. Even from this distance the noble could see the glyphs for affection, friend, beloved, and valued. A swathe of blue next to Hound had Mirage looking over to his other suitor. Trailbreaker had taken on a geometric pattern in Mirage-blue and it contrasted tantalizingly with his glossy black finish. The glyphs in Trailbreaker's patterns were more difficult, however, Mirage could still see beautiful, intelligent, cunning, beloved, and protected mixed into the patterns. The decoration that really made his spark skip was the halves of his designation placed directly over their sparks. To the spy they looked like Primusian warriors from the age of Vector Prime.

How these two marvelous backcountry mecha found out the courting methods of the Towers Mirage did not know, but this was a perfectly executed opening overture. The noble felt completely humbled and overwhelmed, a sensation that increased when they caught sight of him frozen just inside the doorway.

He found himself returning their brilliant smiles with a shy one of his own. How had he gotten so lucky?

Smokescreen slipped into his brother's office quietly and stood watching him while he worked, the mech being so preoccupied he did not notice his sudden company. It was no surprise to Smokescreen that most mecha thought Prowl was the older brother, despite their actual emergence order, due to the black and white's work tendencies and Smokescreen's less responsible lifestyle. This orn however, it was time for Prowl to stop pretending and let his older brother take some of his burdens from him. To that end the blue and red Praxian cleared his vocalizer. Prowl's helm shot up and he stared uncomprehendingly at his brother before smoothing his faceplates to neutral.

"Yes? How may I help you?"

"Yeah, you can unblock the bond and stop trying to hold everything in." Smokescreen replied with a frown.

Prowl never wavered. "I confess that I am unaware to what you are referring to, and as I am very busy, I do not have the time to puzzle out your meaning. Therefore, unless you have some actual business to discuss I will bid you a good dark-cycle Lieutenant."

Oh, that is it! Smokescreen thought. He flared his doorwings in a rare display of anger and stomped around his brother's desk. He watched Prowl brace himself as if for a blow, but Smokescreen would never strike his brother in anger. He might contemplate bending him over his knee and spanking him like a sparkling, however, he would never follow through on it. Smokescreen held his glare on the black and white just long enough to unsettle Prowl, then swiftly wrapped the stiff Praxian in a tight hug.

"Now you listen up, right here, right now. There is no rank, no military hierarchy here. Only me, the big brother, and you the little brother. And my little brother is going to tell me what he saw in our new trine-brother's memories or the next time I merge with him I'll go looking myself!"

Prowl slumped in Smokescreen's arms. "They, beat him Smokey. If he stood wrong, spoke at all, played without permission, and sometimes just because, they beat him. If they were feeling generous they would lock him into a closet for an orn instead. The punishments were growing worse as he grew older, and… eventually I just could not watch anymore. They demechanized him by calling him 'Thing', and erased his real designation so he would not be able to resist their cruelty, even in his helm. How he has survived with any kind of sense of self left is a miracle."

Prowl looked up with venom. "I do not blame him at all for rejoicing over Praxus' destruction, there have been moments where I wished those two vermin were still functioning so I could terminate them myself."

Smokescreen snuggled him closer and listened carefully to his brother's EM field. It was wretched with its sorrow on their trine-brother's behalf, but underneath that was something dark, almost undefinable in its depth.

"This has brought back memories of Sentinel, hasn't it." Smokey stated quietly.

Prowl flinched violently and tried to pull away. However, when the blue and red Praxian's arms merely tightened protectively he wilted further into their comfort. "You would think I would be over that by now."

Smokescreen sighed. "Wax-On always told you that you might have flashbacks and relapses from time to time."

"Wax-On is not around to help me anymore." The black and white replied dully.

"But I'm here?" Smokescreen said as he tried to figure out Prowl's odd mood. It became clear when Prowl turned away from him.

"Prowl," Smokescreen said, and gently touched the other's chin to make him turn back. "When you finally escaped, and came to me, what did I tell you?"

"That time would dull my wounds and make it less painful to think about." The younger Praxian said, refusing to make optic contact, even as he made sure not to break his brother's hold.

Smokey leaned in closer with a mock frown. "And what else?"

"That therapy would help."

Smokescreen pinched Prowl's chin. "And?"

Prowl gave up. "That you would help me through it."

"Precisely. And that support did not go away just because Wax-On declared you healed. I will always be there for you no matter what, even for things that you think are insignificant or that you feel you should have gotten over. Always, always, always. That is how long I will be your support. However, I can't be your help unless you tell me when you are hurting!"

Prowl nodded.

"So, are you going to try to keep something like that from me again?"

Prowl shook his helm.

"Good, now tell me what empties have reared their helms."

Prowl sighed and began.

Mysine: thanks for holding out for so long, hopefully this chapter was not to long in coming for you.

Guest: thanks, I do try to make my world's seem believable, if a bit unintendedly dystopian at times. Yeah, Blue is traumatized, but I think he will make it.

Every1's Beta: Sadly, Blue is not a chatterbox yet, but it will come. I am trying not to change his character, but since everyone else always goes with the traumatized by Praxus' Fall I wanted to attempt something else. Since you can still recognize him as Blue, I will take the attempt to currently be a success. I am glad you are a fan of the slow-burn, I am too (although I am sorta being Captain Obvious by saying that). The romance in this one will be slightly faster paced since the groundwork has been laid in the interim between SAF and Tolling Bells, so enjoy the slow cruise as we move along.

Neon: I'm glad you came back, you have been one of my more straight-forward reviewers, but I like that because it makes your questions easy to answer. No, Bluestreak will not be blue, the only story I have ever read where I liked him having actual blue parts was a short story that made the blue streaks only visible in moonlight (so totally romantic), so no worries there on that. You're welcome for the info on the brother thing, I wish I could tell you more, but the plot of about two stories depends on his secrecy. Blue has been living like this for a while, but he did have a normal family once upon a time. His masters were real sick pieces of work, and there were reasons *author flips furiously through the story outline to see which chapter the explanation was placed in*. I think the explanation is in either chapter 4 or 5, I cannot remember off the top of my helm. The story is supposed to be centered around Bluestreak with a side-dish of Prowl and Jazz finally getting together, but as usual my muse flipped everything around and it is currently centered around Jazz and Mirage's respective romances with a side of Blue.