Time Scale: Nano-click: second ; Cycle: Minute ; Groon: an hour ; Mega-cycle: days ; Orn: 13 days ; Steller Cycle: year ; Vorn: 83 years.

Chapter 29: What is Mine

Sentinel let out a tired vent, rubbing the back of his neck. It had been a terrible meeting. Apparently, Optimus' discovery revealed multiple other edits in other departments and now Records was in complete disarray. Just how long had they had this interloper destroying records? Either way, Magnus had basically had everyone scrambling to find out who this Shadow (as he was now called) was and why he was destroying the records he was.

Personally, Sentinel was just glad to get out of there. He knew Low Tones had some kind of test today. She had been trying to call him, but he just couldn't take a personal call. Magnus wouldn't even let him leave for health reasons unless he wanted to end up in the medical ward of the fortress. Yeah, he would rather not. He was still trying to find a way to worm out of Cliffjumper's little bout of disloyalty. Mirage's company seemed like a significant punishment. Didn't even matter how. The blue mech could just bring him files a few times a day and Cliffjumper would explode.

Regardless, if he couldn't worm out of that medical appointment, just how was he going to deal with it? Any medic would see the scars on his spark from the spark-flux donations. They would know instantly that Sentinel was a single parent and that he didn't have a mate to offer a secondary bond to Echo. There was only Sentinel's spark, and to be stable, usually, a sparkling needed both of their creators to bond with them when they were born … especially a sick sparkling. It was a wonder Echo wasn't deactivated.

In fact, during the Ancient War… too lose one parent meant death to the sparkling.

Of course, now days, they had spark-flux donations from willing mechs and femmes. Yes, the donations were free, but they were also heavily documented by the Autobot clinics. It was also no secret that many single femmes or mechs were encourage to bond again as quickly as possible … for their and their sparkling's health.

Sentinel … he was fine being alone.

He also didn't want Echo exposed to that life. He didn't want his sparkling to be part of the Autobot Guard or its political drama in any shape or form. His little treasure didn't need to know how his father had disgraced himself during with a breakdown while carrying him. He honestly didn't want anyone to know of Echo's existence. He wanted to spare his creation from making the same mistakes he had. He did not want Echo joining the military. He did not want his son to suffer his fate.

He even went so far to hire Codebreaker and a few private tutors to educate his son that weren't affiliated with the Autobot Gaurd. Echo would take the official tests to prove his education, of course, but that was vorns away.

Echo would do well. Sentinel knew his son would. He was still so surprised that Echo was so bright. He was so much smarter than him and for that Sentinel was glad. One day his creation would be able to enter into the science division or something at any Academy in the Autobot Commonwealth. Not just the Autobot Military Academy like him. Echo would be able to go to a nice planet where he would never have to worry about running into a Decepticon.

He would never have to worry about being a victim.

The large mech shivered slightly at the thought, but straightened up as he walked towards his office. He just needed to grab a few files and get home. Hopefully, Low Tones wasn't late to her class. Worst case scenario, she left Echo with Codebreaker or one of the other retirees in the apartment complex.

… But what was going on here?

Sentinel's frowned as he drew nearer and nearer to his office. There was a small cluster in front of Cliffjumper's desk … and it seemed to be of the social kind. Just great. He was in pain, he was tired. He did not want to deal with social pleasantries before going home.

And great … it looked like Jazz was there as well. Joy.

…

Meanwhile, a little ways down the hall from a grumpy Minor, Jazz couldn't stop smiling as he asked the youngling another current government question. Those big blue optics would look up at him and stared for a moment as if he was trying to pull the information straight out of Jazz's mind just by staring at him. Then, ducking his head, not used to all the optics on him, little Echo would move his lips and answer in a nervous voice. It was adorable. Pit, the kid was the cutest thing in this office since the pretty femme, Kick-Shot, left. She had retired about half a vorn ago and was now having sparklings of her own. This was the newest cute thing in the offices.

"That's correct Echo. You are very smart for being so young. Why has your creator not allowed you to go to school yet?" asked Jazz, feeling the need to pry instinctively as the kid ducked his gaze. True, prying was why he had come down here. He wanted to poke and prod at Cliffjumper a bit more about Sentinel's health … and maybe his favorite place to eat, for Optimus' sake. He had not been expecting this. He had had to reset his optics twice when he came down and Cliffjumper, Mirage and Bluestreak were desperately ripping Sentinel's office apart for something akin to a birth certificate.

Well, they were Intel, so they did so professionally … and so that no one would ever notice, but they turned up little evidence except for a child's drawing inside Sentinel's desk. When that had turned up such little evidence, everyone had turned their piqued curiosity to the biggest clue. A blue youngling in his first upgrade. The little thing had almost started to cry when all the optics became directed at him.

Jazz had quickly taken over after that, picking up the youth that was two nano-clicks for clicking like a lost sparkling. He had placed the youth on top of Cliffjumper's desk, and then preceded to smile and joke with the little tyke, rubbing the top of his helm like he had done with so many younglings before. Magnus would sometimes visit the schools and Jazz had long since learned how to calm sparklings and small younglings … unlike the three Intel bots. Youngling still themselves it seemed. Frag, he was old.

So, what could have been a disastrous crying fit, quickly turned into unbidden curiosity on the youngling's part. Echo wanted to know all about his creator's office and the mechs in it.

Little guy was so cute. He made Jazz's spark melt.

Not a lot had yet come from the sparkling during the conversation that proceeded. Jazz was just able to verified that Sentinel was his indeed the youngling's creator and that he like light grade with aluminum coating and gelling soft-carbon goodies. He seemed well cared for despite seeming a little lethargic, and he honestly didn't seem to know much about his creator's job. Echo obviously didn't get out much, but he seemed well educated for a first upgrade. A sharp processor in that one … he would be snatched up by someone in Autobot Command probably before he even got through boot camp.

Echo, still smiling because so many nice mechs were paying attention to him, suddenly stalled at Jazz's newest question. His optics immediately dimmed and a pained expression pulled at his young face. No one missed how those small hands gripped at his chassis.

Bluestreak and Mirage stopped smiling at this immediately; Cliffjumper, who was frowning from the very beginning of this babysitting charade, frowned even more; and Jazz was immediately concerned. He quickly pulled Echo from his sitting spot onto of Cliffjumper's desk and onto his own lap. He had stolen CJ's chair cycles ago, thus all of CJs glaring. Regardles, he bounced the youngling on his lap a little, hoping it would gain him a smile. Instead, Jazz gained a wince and a pained intake.

He quickly stalled, petting Echo's little ear fins (so like his creator's) as he asked, "Hey, what's wrong little buddy? I didn't hurt your feelings, did I? Or are you not feeling well?"

Shaking his head, Echo tried to smile again and ignore the usual pain his chassis. He was used to it and he didn't want to upset the mechs around the desk. Everyone always got upset when they found out he wasn't feeling well. And he liked Uncle Jazz (as requested by Jazz) and didn't want to disappoint him. He was still wondering how his creator worked with such friendly mechs but had yet to invite any of them to dinner. Sentinel always invited Sonic Trip, Low Tones, Codebreaker, even Professor Overhaul, and reluctantly Breakdown to dinner all the time.

Echo thought his creator did it because he was lonely. At least that's what Codebreaker would always say.

"Are you sure, little buddy?" said Jazz, sincerely.

This time Echo answered truthfully for he didn't know there were secrets to be kept. Jazz had asked twice after all and Sentinel told him that lying only begets more lies and secrets. It was best not to lie if you didn't have to. It would just get confusing then.

"No, it's okay. My chassis just hurts sometimes. I'll have to take my medical cube soon. Creator says that's also why I can't go to normal school, because I'm sick. My spark will start to hurt really bad sometimes, and then I will have to go to Doctor Breakdown. They both think it's too much for a normal school. So, I have tutors like Codebreaker and sometimes Overhaul from down the hall. Overhaul says he's a higher education professor at a private academy and that it is below him, but then Codebreaker frowns at him and he teaches me anyway."

Jazz's visor shone for a moment as he replied, a frown trying to tug at his lips, "Oh … so you are unwell and have never been to normal school?"

Echo nodded his head, feeling a little more confident around the new mechs. "Yeah, but maybe I can one day when I get better. I love learning history and exploring and painting with Low Tones. Creator even teaches me current politics all the time and how certain mechs are sketchy."

Mirage snorted at that and Cliffjumper suddenly gained a wayward grin. Jazz merely struggled not to bursting out laughing as he choked, "Sketchy huh? Is that why your creator doesn't let you visit?"

Echo smiled at their laughter. Sometimes his creator laughed like that. It was a good sound.

Shrugging his little shoulders, Echo honestly didn't know why and admitted as much. "I don't know. Creator probably doesn't think it's safe here. At least that's what Low Tone said, but she just thinks he's being silly."

Jazz merely smiled bitterly, unable to deny there was a truth to that. After all, Shockwave had been wandering these very halls not so long ago. They never did find Blurr and Shockwave merely chuckled when they asked where he was … if he was still even online.

"Well, SM is just being careful. No fault there, but you get to go to your alma's work right? What does he or she do?" said Jazz, trying to pry a bit more. He had been in Intel once and old habits die hard.

Echo looked confused for a moment, rubbed his chassis again, and then murmured, "But Sentinel is my alma?"

=See! Told you Cliffjumper= came a comm link from Bluestreak to everyone but Echo, the rookie looking almost smug.

Cliffjumper merely punched the other in the shoulder, basically telling the younger bot to shut up.

Jazz had to reset his vocals twice from the shock, before he was able to state, "Ooh. Really. Well, I think that someone I would have noticed," or everyone really, carrying mechs aren't exactly small, "B-but umm … who's your sire then? Should we call him? I don't know how long your … alma … is going to be."

At this Echo's little ear fins fell downward in a sad way that made Jazz immediately regret asking. The youth then looked at the floor and in a voice so soft everyone had to turn up their audios, Echo stated, "I don't have one … I guess. Creator never talks about my sire so I must not have one. I asked Breakdown once about it because it makes creator upset, and he said I don't need one. He said Sentinel loves me more than enough."

That almost made Jazz choke up. No wonder Sentinel always looked so tired. His mate had abandoned him and a kid. He would know if someone close to Sentinel deactivated.

At least he hoped he would.

Swallowing thickly, trying to ignore the pitying looks of the other three mechs, Jazz found he couldn't reset his vocals again so soon. It was taking all that was in him not to huggle the cute little thing close and tell him he'll kick that abandoning sire's aft.

Frag, Sentinel. What was going on with him? This kind of thing wasn't something you kept to yourself. Was he really so bitter about him taking the hammer not to tell him?! Prowl would have died, Optimus might have as well, and who knows how the other young-bots would have fared.

Unable to take the silence anymore, feeling like he had said something wrong, Echo immediately apologized, "I'm sorry. Did I say something wrong? I didn't mean to. No one else seems to care I only have an alma! Is that bad? Is that wrong?"

Jazz, snapping out of it, quickly patted down the now shivering ear fins, little droplets of coolant now gathering in the youngling's optics. The white bot immediately smiled, saying truthfully, "No. No. I'm sure SM gives you all of his love and more. I was just confused I suppose, but never mind that. You said you had some medicine huh? Why don't you take that now and we do some more homework, hmm?"

Wiping away the gathering tears with the palms of his small and delicate hands, Echo nodded.

Mirage, without being asked, quickly leaned down and grabbed the little bag against the wall. He rifled around a bit before frowning and then slowly pulling out two quarter cubes used by small frames or younglings. One looked like normal low grade energon and the other … was obviously medical grade with the tint to it. In fact, the color looked like the strong stuff. Not strong given someone of their sizes, but strong enough to probably be used by an adult mini model.

Echo didn't even hesitate, he reached for the medical grade and opened it up without a second thought. A small sigh escaped his vents a moment later, the pain already fading. He then placed the cube on the desk without a second thought.

Jazz, petting the small helm, had too many question swimming in his helm. The biggest one was who he needed to punch in the face for not wanting this adorable thing. So what if Sentinel was part of the package. He wasn't that bad. A bit uptight and he needed to grow up a bit, but he seemed to have done a lot of that in the last two vorns.

Pushing away the thought, Jazz tried to mind the youth's studies, reading learning pad after learning pad to him without thinking about it. Yet the thought wouldn't stop bouncing around in his helm. Just who was Echo's sire? Or was the youngling merely calling Sentinel alma because Sentinel had adopted him? Usually, single mechs couldn't adopt … unless the sparkling came from a lost family member.

Sentinel didn't have any close family that would leave him a yougling … did he?

Opening his mouth, wanting to pry more about Echo's sire or what he meant by alma, Jazz's words were cut off when the sound of heavy familiar peds invaded the area.

"What is going on here? This isn't social time," came a barking command, reminiscent more of Sentinel's days training cadets then as a the head of communications. "You are not being paid to stand around –"

The words died in his vocals a moment later as Sentinel stepped up to the desk, his optics becoming too bright as he watched Jazz pat a small blue helm while reading a education-pad. In fact, it was a familiar form of reminiscent blue. Little blue optics looked up a nano-klick later, at first surprised and then with a squeal of excitement as little peds hit the floor. Jazz barely had time to grab the data pad before it hit the floor.

Before his CPU could even completely process what was going on, Sentinel felt a little form slam against his leg and wrap servos around it. Little blue optics peered up at him, smiling like an idiot … like how Optimus used to smile in the academy, all teeth bared with his optics half-on.

"Creator! Creator! Jazz was reading to me about all the positions in the Autobot hierarchy. We went over old Magnuses and he even said you were Magnus for a while! Alma, why are you not Magnus anymore? Jazz didn't say," said the youth, oblivious to all the mechs behind him that had twitched at the youth's words.

They had tried to ghost over the subject after it had accidentally been said, but Echo was a bright one and latched onto the unanswered questions like a vice.

Swallowing thickly, every creator program in him screaming that his youngling was in danger, Sentinel tried to keep his wits about him. He could not panic. He would not panic! Yes, somehow Echo was in the fortress. Yes, Jazz and everyone had just heard his youngling calm him alma. Yes there was an empty cube of medical low-grade energon on the desk. Yes, all four of his countrymen were practically vibrating with questions and … was that pity?

Armor pulling close in a defensive way, battle-mask just begging to slam shut, Sentinel tried to vent and press away something akin to a panic attack. He tried to devest those panicky lines of code as quickly as they came, but a breakdown was coming even though he kept telling himself that he could still salvage this. He could still salvage Echo's future!

He had to leave.

He had to leave now.

He had to leave … before Optimus saw him.

Echo, seeming to catch the anxiety in his carrier's spark, was slowly losing his smile, his tone timid. "Creator … is something wrong? I know you are probably busy, but Uncle Jazz said there is youngling-care in the building over and I can go there for a while. Or I can take a nap in your office. I did take my medicine so I am getting kind of sleepy."

Swallowing again, trying to block off any panicked feelings from his creation, Sentinel quickly picked up his child and placed him on the crook of his hip. That way he still had access completely to one of his hands. Sonic Trip had taught him that much when Echo had been going through a phase. Echo would cry whenever he was put down. He could still remember trying to cook, clean and even work on his rehabilitation with a sparkling on his hip.

"That will be all today," said Sentinel in a tone that could have chilled energon in the engine. He then grabbed Echo's bag and sub-spaced it, his storage much larger than Low Tones. He nearly shorted out in surprise when Jazz was suddenly in front of him, placing a hand on his free wrist and successfully stalling his retreat.

"Hey SM. Please, don't get sour. The Magnus thing accidentally slipped to the kid during his lesson," said Jazz, trying to apologize and keep the situation cool at the same time. "Speaking of kids … when did this adorable little guy happen? "

Sentinel immediately stiffened, unable to find the words or even a lie.

Jazz, older and still used to the upstart that followed after Ultra Magnus like a lost turbo-fox, signaled towards Sentinel's office, "I know you got some high grade. How about you let Echo have that nap on your visitors couch and then you can cool your jets a bit and have a good old chat with Uncle Jazz."

Swallowing, his hands threatening to shake, Sentinel bit out, "No thank you, Jazz. I have not slept in over a mega-cycle. I, I mean we, are going home."

Door wings ridged and pulling tight against his form, Jazz felt that if he let go of Sentinel now … he might never get a hold of him again. Regardless, he slowly let got of that forearm guard and murmured, "Sure thing, SM. You must be tired. Another time. Yeah?"

Sentinel said nothing. He merely moved quickly as if his heels were on fire. Echo, little arms now wrapped around his creator's neck, meekly waved goodbye over Sentinel's shoulder. Then, the two blue forms were gone, the echoing sound of hurried steps soon following after.

No one dared interrupt the silence for a few cycles until Mirage opened his mouth, closed his mouth, thought about it, opened his mouth again and finally spoke, "Okay, first of all congrats Jazz. You survived that encounter." Jazz glared at him, but the blue mech continued, "Also, I know this makes me a terrible, terrible being, but does anyone else want to abuse their title and contacts to find out what just happened? Like, mostly, who the sire was or original parents."

All the mechs looked at each other awkwardly as if they wanted to admit it and yet were unwilling to. It really wasn't a very Autobot thing to do after all.

Jazz, of course, was the first to pipe up. "Not wanting risk soundin' like an even worse mech than Mirage-"

"Hey."

"-But first to find out who the sire is gets to punch the abandoning fragger in the face, and then gets dinner on all the others. Deal?" finished the mech, trying to brush off the sour taste in his mouth with a little wager.

"B-but he'll kill us! And we just can't punch mechs in the face. How do we know they abandoned him anyway? It could be a second cousin's kid or something that he was forced to adopt," barked Bluestreak like the rookie he was.

As was quickly becoming usual, no one listened to the rookie.

Cliffjumper was already heading back to his computer, murmuring, "Already started. That face punch is mine Jazz."

"I as well have started," chuckled Mirage as he shimmered out of existence. "I like my energon expensive boys."

Soon, everyone but Bluestreak was wandering off on a mission, leaving the rookie standing there alone. Slowly, the young-bot sighed in resignation already trying to figure out how many credits he would need to take Mirage out to dinner.

…

Jazz honestly didn't know how he should feel right now. He wanted to be mad, angry, upset and maybe a little hurt. He honestly wanted to teach someone a lesson. If a sire or a mysterious second cousin or someone died, Sentinel would have told his sparkling. The kid honestly looked too much like Sentinel not to be his kid. So, the only reason you don't tell a kid who there sire was, is because you are ashamed. He wanted to punch whoever that fragger was in the face. Yet, he wanted to punch Sentinel in the face just as much.

For Primus sake, Sentinel had a first-upgrade youngling at home. A kid. He had a fraggen kid. That's not something you just forget to mention to people. It's something you hide. He couldn't even find anything in the ex-Prime's records that hinted that he had a kid. No extra insurance, no mentions of bonding time off, no dead cousins leaving him large sums of money … nothing.

It was as if he was embarrassed he had a kid. Is that why he was hid away? No, Jazz kind of doubted that. Blue fragger looked ready to kill someone if they dared look at Echo wrong. So, if he was in fact a real alma, was SM embarrassed that he had bottomed for some else and had gotten Heavy in the process? If so, so what?! Yes, Jazz knew the ex-Prime preferred femmes, but there was nothing wrong with finding a good mech-spike to pleasure you instead. There was nothing wrong with lying down, spreading your legs and being filled to the brim while someone labored above you for both of your pleasure.

There was nothing wrong with that.

Well, at least one good thing was coming from all of this. If he was in fact an alma, Optimus now had irrefutable proof that Sentinel had slept with other mechs before, meaning … he might be willing to accept Optimus Prime's courting advances.

Yes, courting advances.

There was no doubt in his CPU that Optimus would go straight for courting the ex-Prime. He didn't know much about Optimus' youngling-hood, but whoever his creators were … they seemed traditional. It also seemed unlikely that Optimus would try so hard just to have a one night stand. Not that Jazz found anything wrong with that. Sometimes one-nighters formed bonds after all. Good friendships could occur or at least some direction of who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. There was more than one romance vid where such a thing happened and a mech would be running around the city trying to find the unnamed mech his spark had fallen in love with during a drunken one night stand.

Jazz wasn't entirely inclined to those kind of romances, but he knew mechs like Cliffjumper kept a secret stash of them on their computer work station.

Okay, he had just found that out today. How else would he have gotten a hold of Sentinel's personnel files?

Thank you, Cliffjumper for doing all the foot work.

Regardless, there had been some form of a bond apparently between the two mechs. Optimus had basically felt Sentinel nearly offline after all. Jazz just hoped Optimus liked kids though because if he didn't, he just as wells give up now.

But if he was okay with it … Someone got to be the sire. And the sire usually always topped.

Lucky fragger.

Oh, speaking of Unicron, just the information smorgasbord he was looking for. If there had been some type of relationship in Sentinel's past or a close relative that deactivated, Optimus would have to know. Then he could find some mech to punch in the face. He supposed it could be a femme a well, but a femme would have tried to keep the kid.

Sliding into step with Optimus, part of him nearly vibrating with curiosity, Jazz purred, "Have spare moment, OP?"

A few steps behind Magnus as they walked undoubtedly to their next meeting, Optimus looked up and had to reset his optics when he saw how large Jazz's smirk was.

Yeah … Did he want to know?

"Not really. We found more information about the Shadow. Apparently, he was messing with some Trypticon records as well. We are heading over there now to speak with the warden," said Optimus, noting that Jazz's smile was struggling to remain. "Why? Is it something that cannot be spoken about on the walk to the exit?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, his CPU at war with itself. He decided it was best that Optimus hear the news from his mouth instead of a second or third party.

"Well, depends. I could beat around the tree, as humans say, or just get to the point. How do you want it?" asked Jazz, deciding it was best for Optimus to choose his own poison.

Quirking an optic in confusion, Optimus shrugged, "Well, as Sari use to say, sometimes its best just to rip off the band-aid … Huh, I think I said that one right."

Chuckling, Jazz said it plainly, "So … did you know SP, I mean SM, has a kid? Cutest thing ever and even more so with Sentinel acting like a ruffled cyber-bird. I swear he might have tried pecking my optics out if I had even looked at the kid the wrong way."

Optimus, looking at a digi-pad as he tried to get ready for the meeting they were about to have, gave Jazz an ill-humored look. "I'm not falling for that Jazz. Go prank someone else."

Jazz frowned, upset for a moment because Optimus didn't automatically believe him. Well, he hadn't believed it at first either. Unfortunately, that probably meant that he likely had a no-go down the information highway with Optimus Prime. Yet, Optimus might have at least heard a rumor. They had been good friends in the past after all. Then again … if Sentinel had to be ashamed of the sire?

"I'm not kidden' … I just wanted to know about the little trooper and why he was sick. Maybe send Sentinel a gift basket or something for the kid's spark-day. I might even punch some mech in the face or send a sympathy gift," said Jazz, almost lackadaisically.

Watching OP churn the words over in his helm, Jazz couldn't help but think what a great Magnus the young Prime would one day make. Sentinel might have been a decent one … in time. He was meant to train for vorns and vorns, now doubt, before becoming Magnus, but then the responsibility had been thrust upon him. Then again, Sentinel might have always been temporary until the Magnus found the perfect heir. Either way, Ultra Magnus wasn't telling and it was probably for the best that things had happened the way they had. That way Sentinel wouldn't have to pine over a position that was never meant for him. It was as if, when Sentinel became temporary Magnus, something had just cracked. The new Magnus had become paranoid, angry, vengeful and acted like he never wanted another Con to get near him.

Hmm, why had he never realized that until now? It took him almost two vorns to realize that Sentinel had been wearing a powerful face during his rein, but what did he have to be so scared of? Unless…

How old was Echo?

A sickening thought suddenly blindsided Jazz like a semi. If Sentinel was in fact Echo's true alma, hehadn't been carrying during his time as Magnus, had he?

Frag, why had no one heard of this kid? He needed to dig more. He had managed to get a hold of the personnel files, but there was no mention, at all, of medical leave, adoptions or anything of the nature. If Echo was carried, the only time Sentinel had had to himself was during his accident.

Wait … how many orns was he gone during that?

"… Are you listening to me?"

Jazz perked up and turned his head back to Optimus, blinking like an owl behind his visor. Maybe he should have researched a bit more before bringing this to Optimus. Then again, Optimus has access to more secure files than he or Cliffjumper did as the Magnus' current second.

Clearing his throat tubing, Jazz said, "What? Sorry, I was lost in my thoughts, OP. You are going to have to give me the low down again."

Sighing, part of him still thinking that this had to be some kind of elaborate prank, the Prime offered his digi-pad to Jazz and said, "Okay, I'll play along. Show me some proof Sentinel has a youngling, but I'm still not falling for it. Military insurance policies, education and medical discounts, as well as tax policies would make it impossible for me not to now about Sentinel having a youngling. Plus, he would have made me babysit whenever he wanted a night on the town. Sentinel does not have a youngling."

Frowning, now painfully recalling the lack of an insurance policy on Sentinel's account (which would support Echo if anything ever happened to his creator and there was no reason not to get it unless he had a lot of extra expenses), Jazz pulled a cord out of the digi-pad and hooked it into his wrist. He quickly downloaded three images from earlier that day because he knew … there were no files of Echo in the military computers to prove his claims.

Not one. If the little darling didn't look just like Sentinel, he would start thinking the little guy had been kidnapped or something.

Unplugging the digi-pad, he handed it back to Optimus, hoping for the best. Maybe Echo looked like a second cousin or something.

Optimus actually stalled for a moment as he stared at the one picture where Sentinel was sheltering Echo in his arms while there was an enraged expression on his face. He had never seen Sentinel so distressed. "These are fake, right?"

Jazz shook his head, murmuring, "I'm not trying to trip you up, OP. I'm just as confused as you are. I was hopin' you knew somethin'. Maybe an old lover or dead cousin or something?"

Frowning, Optimus almost looked pained, a hand coming up to rub his chassis. "I don't know. I know there is a rift between the two of us, but … to not even know. Why wouldn't he tell me?"

"Tell you what, Optimus Prime?"

The two mechs nearly jumped out of their armor when the Magnus started toward them, apparently having noticed his entourage was no longer following him. The large mech stalled in front of them, immediately noticing the digi-pad. He calmly put out a servo and asked, "May I see that."

Not knowing what else to do, Optimus slowly offered it to his superior. Ultra Magnus took it and stared with his usual cool disposition, though his frown did seem to drip a little. Old optics soon bore down on Jazz. "Sentinel Minor doesn't seem to appreciate these pictures by his expression, Officer Jazz. In the future I recommend asking unless it is for security purposes and … who is the youngling? I have visited the military schools and youngling-care centers many times, and I have never seen him before. He has an uncanny resemblance to Sentinel Minor. Is he a niece or nephew? He seems rather … protective. And why is he out of school? And why is he here? I understand emergency family situations, but this is a military building. Not just anyone's younglings should be here. Especially not the communications department after a break in."

Looking at each other, feeling that Sentinel would be chastised if they didn't say something first, Jazz murmured, "Well… it seemed to have been a family situation. The situation wasn't exactly … clear."

Ultra Magnus rose a metallic brow and asked, "Please elaborate, Officer Jazz. Are you purposefully being ill-defined?"

Jazz sighed in resignation, not wanting to stir up trouble. "I apologize sir if I was vague … Its just that the details are unclear. I am still gathering intel on it. Sentinel left shortly after finding out the babysitter had drop Echo, the youngling, off with his secretary. Cliffjumper then stated that the babysitter said the child was Sentinel's and the child seemed to confirm that as well. It's just that … no one in Intel has heard of Sentinel having any children."

Ultra Magnus was frowning a little harder as he stared at the picture. Then, as if coming to a decision, he pulled the digi-pad closer and logged in under his name so that he would have access to all personnel files. He was quick for one with such old fingers and soon Sentinel's complete profile was up. He glanced over it for a moment, his frown still present as he murmured, "It says that he doesn't have any dependents, and Sentinel Minor has always been very punctual about his paperwork. I doubt he would just overlook such a crucial piece of paperwork."

For a moment there was silence, before Ultra Magnus logged out of his account and handed the digi-pad back to Optimus Prime. The large mech return his gaze to Jazz, stating, "If you are worry about it being a security issue, please check into it. And Jazz…"

The ninja-bot stalled, ready to dig into this with all the ferocity of a blood hound.

"Please do inform me of your findings. I would like to know why Sentinel Minor … was so upset in that picture and if it is a dependent, why he hasn't filled out the necessary paperwork. It would be terrible if something happened to him and his dependents didn't have the necessary support from the Autobot system," said Ultra Magnus as he turned and headed over to his next meeting.

Jazz merely nodded before saluting and turning heel. For some reason … he felt that he had just made things worse than better.

…

It had been a few groons since his creator had brought him home and since then Echo had watched his creator pack a sub-spaced bag, only to unpack it a moment later. It was like his creator couldn't decided what to do.

Echo couldn't ignore it anymore. He had read the same line about ten times mostly because he creator had pace past for the hundredth time it the last cycle. Creator was upset. Really upset. Was it about his job? He had almost yelled at Jazz, Echo could tell.

What was so bad about being Magnus? His creator really was upset that Jazz had told him that, but what was wrong with that?

Frowning, feeling his alma's distressed feelings through the bond though Sentinel was trying to keep them to himself, Echo decided he didn't want to be strong anymore. He didn't want to be a trooper like his father was always asking him to be after shot after shot or surgery. He was confused and scared and didn't understand what had been so bad today.

So he stood up and dropped his digi-pads, the tears already streaming down his small face. He didn't even try to contain the sobbing as he broke down into tears, cleaner fluid falling from his optics at an alarming rate. Sentinel automatically stalled before his partially packed bag, optics going wide as he walked over to his creation.

Kneeling down, Sentinel asked, "What's wrong, little trooper. You promised me that you would read that digi-pad quietly while I tried to figure out what to do. And we never break our promises, do we?"

Sentinel was near tears himself, his thoughts of having to leaving Cybertron behind plaguing his CPU like a virus. Somehow, he held back a hiccup of his own vents. No one was ever supposed to know about Echo. Not one bot in Autobot Command was supposed to know. His creation, his only child, was supposed to become a scientist or something important on a far away colony where no one had ever heard of Sentinel Magnus. Anywhere that wasn't related to military funding would have done.

So his little trooper could be anyone.

So his little trooper would never have to know the pain … of being a victim.

Sentinel never wanted Optimus to see his little creation, because he was almost certain that if the repair-bot ever saw Echo… he would know it was his. He would recall that terror filled night. He would know Sentinel's shame … and then he would take Echo.

Sentinel's vents shivered at the thought. Then, feeling weak and broken like a rock had been dropped into his spark chamber, his optics started leaking as well though he was still smiling to try and keep Echo calm. His little mech noticed though and started crying even harder as he reached up for his creator's face. "Don't cry creator. Don't cry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I did something wrong. I will stop crying. Just stop crying creator."

Smile slowly dying on his face, Sentinel found he couldn't hold back anymore. His tears falling faster as he started crying as well. He hadn't even realized he was sitting on the floor until his sparkling crawled onto his nap and wrapped his arms as best as he could around his creator, whispering, "It's okay creator. It's okay. I'm here. I won't let the shadow or anyone else get you. I promise."

XXX

Paw07: Alot happened in this chapter, didn't it? I've been waiting to put this chapter up for ages. I wrote most of it a long time ago. I'm notorious of skipping around. Regardless, I hoped I used the right term for mother. I think a lot of writers use alma … or maybe its ama. Meh, feel free to correct me. Regardless, fell the angst! Oooh, poor Sentinel. I'll huggle you.