by antimony92 » Wed Apr 07, 2010 8:25 pm
Sorry for all of the Prowl fans out there. I've got nothing against the character, I just didn't care for him in the movie universe. This impression mainly came from IDW's Defiance, when Prime and the others are on the run from Megatron. Prowl somehow makes the time in the middle of that crisis to express his worry to Prime that Megatron knows he's involved with the Autobots. Maybe he grew as a character later, but I never thought very highly of him after that. So don't read this if you're going to be offended by Prowl turning into the bad guy.
The Ark, one week after the Allspark was launched into space and the Autobots left Cybertron
Ironhide and Chromia sat of a couch next to one of their windows. The stars passed by smoothly and peacefully, a beautiful view to even the most troubled of minds. They took comfort in the presence of each other, but neither spoke.
Ironhide turned his head when there was a knock at the door. He felt a brief flare of irritation over the interruption, but stood to open it anyway. These were dark times, and the Autobots needed to work together to get through them. As he did, however, his irritation increased threefold. Prowl stood there alone, his dark red horns gleaming in the low light, “Evening, Ironhide,” he said smoothly, “May I have a word?”
“No,” Ironhide said curtly, “I’m not in the mood to listen to sycophancy tonight, Prowl. Go talk to the ship engines. They’ll listen to you. If you imagine hard enough, they may even respond.”
He started to shut the door, but Prowl quickly blocked him, “Come on, Ironhide,” he said quickly, “For old times sake?”
“What old times?” Ironhide grumbled, but after a moment he let Prowl in.
Chromia eyed him with disgust, and then turned a pleading gaze to Ironhide. He shrugged slightly as he sat back down next to her, “You can sit, Prowl,” she tried to sound slightly cordial, though it came out more as an order than an invitation.
“No, thank you, I prefer to stand,” Prowl paced back and forth in front of them, “Come to think of it, Chromia, I only came to talk to Ironhide. Would you excuse us for a second?”
Ironhide had to give Chromia credit for not tearing out his spark right there. Prowl was one of the few remaining Autobots who found females to be both intellectually and physically inferior. Chromia found the assumption extremely insulting, as did Ironhide. Eyes smoldering, she shook her head, “Sorry, this is my apartment too. You should have thought of this before you visited.”
“You intrude on my evening, and then you try to order my spark partner around?” Ironhide, as always, had something to add, “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
“I…no,” Prowl realized his tactical error, “My apologies, Chromia. You may stay if you wish.”
Chromia nodded curtly. Ironhide could tell both from her expression and their spark connection that she wasn’t placated.
“There are a number of us on board who do not believe that Optimus is keeping our best interests in mind,” Prowl began finally.
“How so?” Ironhide asked, “I know there’s the whole Allspark thing…”
“It’s more than the ‘whole Allspark thing’, Ironhide,” Prowl cut in, “He launched our life force into space, and then he lost it! That means there’s going to be no more Autobots! I mean, we’re practically an endangered species!”
Despite the sobering nature of the subject, Ironhide had a hard time not laughing at Prowl’s tirade. Dramatic Autobot.
“There’s no sense in reminding us, Prowl,” Chromia said, “Why do you think everything has been so quiet for the last week? Everyone’s upset. But that’s why we’re on this mission. We’re going to get the Allspark back.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Prowl finally stopped pacing, “Do you know how many star systems this galaxy has?”
“Approximately a hundred billion,” Chromia answered helpfully.
Prowl glared at her, “Thank you. And do you know how long it will take to search all of them?”
“Awhile,” Ironhide admitted, “But still, what’s your point? Would you have preferred to be doomed to a never-ending conflict? We’d probably still go extinct.”
“But the Allspark would still be there,” Prowl argued, “Free to provide new lives even in the absence of old ones. Our race would continue.”
“I don’t know about that,” Chromia said, “Hatchlings need adults to take care of them for the first couple of years.”
“That’s not the point,” Prowl snapped, “The point is that Optimus made a decision that has altered the course of our existence. He did it without much consultation from us, and we all must suffer the consequences. Leadership is hard, of course,” Prowl’s voice dropped to a purr, “None of us would argue that. But maybe it’s time that Optimus stepped down.”
Ironhide was on his feet in an instant, “To be replaced by whom? You?”
“Plenty of Autobots would be capable of assuming the mantle of leadership. You and I included.”
Ironhide found the attempt to build common ties immensely annoying, “I’ve got news for you, Prowl. No Autobot could do half the job Optimus has done. You make it sound like he launched the Allspark into space on a whim. Why don’t you go ask him how many months he spent planning?” Ironhide grabbed Prowl’s arm and started dragging him to the door, “And maybe you should beg for forgiveness as well.”
“Optimus’ reign is over, Ironhide!” Prowl yelled as he was forcibly thrust out, “We need a leader we can trust!”
Ironhide slammed the door in his face. He turned, fuming, and activated his com, “Optimus?”
There was no answer, “It’s pretty late, Ironhide,” Chromia said, “And I wonder whether we should bother Optimus with this at all.”
Ironhide looked at her incredulously, “Please tell me you weren’t actually listening to that piece of scrap metal.”
“Of course I wasn’t. But Optimus has to know that his decision wasn’t popular with everyone. This may blow over in a few weeks when things settle down.”
Ironhide remained doubtful, “This isn’t some minor infraction. Things won’t fully settle down until we have the Allspark again.”
“I know. But I think it may be better if we figure out how widespread this is before we report it. Optimus has enough to worry about already,” Chromia sighed, “Elita’s been really worried about him lately. She said he’s so torn apart with guilt that he’s not taking care of himself.”
Ironhide grunted, “I’m not surprised. No one wanted to make that decision. Except maybe Prowl.”
Chromia smiled, “You know what a blowhard he can be. Give him a week and he should decide that he doesn’t want to be leader.”
“You may be right,” Ironhide hesitated, and then nodded finally, “All right, but let’s do plenty of investigating. The last thing the Autobots need right now is a rebellion.”
The Ark, two days later
Elita came online again slowly, sleepily. Half her normal rest period had been spent on sentry duty, and she was still exhausted. Part of her was tempted to skip the early morning meeting to get some more rest, but Optimus needed her support right now.
She transformed and looked around. Optimus wasn’t there, a fact that hardly surprised her. He was working hard to keep the ship operational. Too hard. She knew that he was trying to take his mind off the Allspark, and to prove that he was still a capable leader after all of this. But he hadn’t shut down in at least a week, hadn’t eaten a thing, and was starting to look more offline than on. The only thing he was proving so far was that even Optimus Prime needed rest every once in awhile.
She sighed. Optimus’ pain made her ache, even more so because she knew there was nothing she could do to relieve it. Optimus had shut everyone out, seemingly part of the punishment he was exacting upon himself. It didn’t matter that he had done what was necessary-with Optimus it never did. The price had still been high.
Elita shook her head resolutely. Time would heal Optimus, and right now the only thing she could do for him was make sure he lived long enough to allow that to happen. She grabbed a chunk of energen and hurried down the hall.
Optimus was already in the council room by the time she arrived, talking to Jazz. A few other members were present, but the majority had yet to arrive. Elita gave the black and white Autobot a friendly nod, and then turned her attention to Optimus, “Good morning.”
Optimus gave her an exhausted smile, “Good morning. Sorry if I caused you any worry when I didn’t come back last night. There was just this engine malfunction, and then these asteroids...”
“I understand,” Elita smiled, “Have you eaten yet? I brought you some breakfast.”
“Thanks, but I’ve got to run the meeting. I’ll eat later.”
“That’s what you told me a week ago,” Elita replied, “And it still hasn’t happened. Eat now, and Jazz can start the meeting. Right, Jazz?”
“Of course,” Jazz punched Optimus on the shoulder, “What’s the point of being on this council if I never get to do anything?”
Optimus still hesitated, but then he nodded, “All right. Thanks, Jazz.”
Elita sat down next to him and watched council members file in. After several minutes, Jazz stood up, “Welcome, everyone. Thanks for being here this morning.”
“The ship’s last malfunctions appear to be taken care of. There’s a possibility of further trouble, but so far thing are okay. And then there’s-oh, look who forgot about the meeting again.”
Elita gave him a confused look, and then turned her head to the door. Ironhide and Chromia stood there, having failed to slip in quietly, “Good morning, everyone,” Chromia greeted, “Sorry we’re late.”
“Who decided to make these meetings so early?” Ironhide growled playfully, “I’d like a word with them.”
The council chuckled. It was no secret that neither of them were early-morning Autobots, “Don’t you ever set an alarm, Ironhide?” Ratchet asked.
“Of course I do,” Ironhide looked at Chromia, “But when someone disables it…”
“That thing’s annoying!” Chromia protested.
“It’s supposed to be,” Wheeljack said, “That’s why it’s called an alarm.”
“And everyone give the scientist a hand!” Jazz nodded to Wheeljack, “Without you here, my friend, we would be lost.”
“And what would we do without your sarcasm?” Wheeljack shot back, “Surely a singularity would destroy us all within seconds of its loss.”
“You know it would,” Optimus shot Jazz a reproving look, and the Autobot hastened to get back on topic, “But you can praise my importance later, Wheeljack. For now we have some announcements to get back to. The last of the injured have been released from the medbay. Do you have anything to add about that, Ratchet?”
“Not really,” Ratchet shrugged, “There are a few Autobots I’m still keeping an eye on, Bumblebee in particular. But everyone is pretty healthy at the moment.”
“Glad to hear it,” Jazz noted that Optimus had finished his meal and was now watching patiently, “Optimus, do you want to take over?”
“No, you’re doing a fine job,” Optimus gave a wry smile, “I’ll stop you if I think otherwise.”
“All right, then,” Jazz scanned the meeting schedule, “I think that’s all the news. If no one’s got anything to add, then we’ll move right into-“
“Just a minute, Jazz,” Prowl broke in, “I’ve got a matter of considerable importance.”
“Then don’t keep us in suspense,” Jazz sat and gestured for his colleague to over. Prowl moved to the front and began, “My fellow Autobots, I-“
“Wait, Prowl!” Ironhide spoke up, “If you’re about to start what I think you are-“
“I have the floor, Ironhide,” Prowl said sharply, “If you wish to comment, you can do it when I’ve finished!”
Ironhide met his gaze furiously for a moment, and then looked away. There was no mistaking the triumph in Prowl’s eyes, “As I was saying, I’ve been watching the Autobot forces for some time. As I’ve done so, I’ve come to one conclusion.”
“And what would that be?” Optimus looked as interested as everyone else.
Prowl looked him right in the eye, “That you are no longer fit to be our leader.”
Optimus recoiled in shock. There was an astonished murmur from the council, followed by a furious cry from Elita, “Prowl, how dare you say such a thing!” she cried, “Do you know what Optimus has done for us?”
“Yes, I do know,” Prowl snapped, “I know that he’s launched our life force to the nether regions of space and doomed us all to die searching for it! What kind of leader does that?”
Optimus looked up, “I only did what I thought was best,” he murmured.
“Of course you did,” Prowl’s tone instantly turned to patronization, “But leadership is difficult, Prime. It wears you down. We need a new leader, one who’s not so broken that they make poor decisions.”
Elita was horrified to see agreement on the faces of a few of the council members. Several more looked doubtful, “Come on, everyone!” she cried, “Optimus sent the Allspark away to end the war, not to doom our race! How can you say that it was a bad decision?”
“Optimus has never failed us before,” Wheeljack added, “I see no reason to assume this will change that.”
“And I see reason to question the loyalty of this council,” Ironhide gave Prowl a dangerous glare.
“But, it was our life force,” Sunstreaker spoke up from the corner, “We kind of need it to continue our species.”
“And what about the Decepticons?” Brawn added, “Shouldn’t we be putting energy into stopping them first?”
“Well, they’re looking for the Allspark too, right?” Chromia snapped, “So searching for the Allspark is basically the same thing as Decepticon hunting.”
“But we’re going extinct!” Prowl yelled, “What kind of leader lets you go extinct?”
For a few moments afterward, no individual voice could be made out. Some took Prowl’s side and called for Optimus to stand down, while others cried out in his defense, “That’s enough!” Optimus finally boomed, slamming a fist into the table for silence. Once everything was quiet, he turned to Prowl, “I’ll consider carefully what you have said, Prowl. But I want you to keep in mind that my problems become yours should I step down. Council dismissed.”
“Optimus, wait!”
Optimus turned and looked back at Elita. She recoiled at his expression-never before had she seen an Autobot so tortured. Without a word, she hugged him hard. He bowed his head against her shoulder, and neither of them spoke for a few moments, “I’m so sorry,” Elita finally whispered, “So sorry.”
“I just…” Optimus sounded defeated, “I thought I made the right choice. I knew it was unpopular, but…”
“It was the right choice,” Elita said fiercely, “It saved countless lives back on Cybertron. Prowl has no right to question your leadership.”
“But he wasn’t the only one,” Optimus murmured, “Half of the others agreed with him. What if they’re right? Am I getting too worn down to make decisions?”
“Optimus, listen to me,” Elita said, “Everyone’s got their doubts. The thought of losing the Allspark forever is more than most of us can bear. Prowl knows that. He’s twisted the truth, and in their doubt many agree with him. But you’ve led us well for thousands of years. The other Autobots will remember that, in time.”
Optimus didn’t speak for a moment, “Thank you, ‘lita,” he finally murmured.
Elita kissed him, “Whatever happens, Optimus,” she promised softly, “I’ll always stay with you.”
The Ark, the next day
“I really cannot believe this,” Ironhide stared at the figures as if sheer willpower could change them, “Are you sure, Ratchet?”
“You helped collect the data, Ironhide,” Ratchet sounded tired.
“But this means…” Ironhide looked again, “Almost every member of the Autobots thinks that Optimus should stand down?”
“That was the general consensus, yes,” Ratchet sighed, “And most of the rest of them are unsure. There were less than ten, us included, who were sure he should stay.”
“But that’s ridiculous,” Chromia protested, “They were all loyal two weeks ago.”
“We still had the Allspark two weeks ago,” Ratchet shook his head, “But I’ll admit I was surprised too. I thought more Autobots would see the wisdom in the decision, no matter how awful the consequences.”
“Perhaps our sampling wasn’t extensive enough,” Wheeljack spoke up from the corner.
“We talked to almost two hundred Autobots between the four of us, Wheeljack,” Chromia said, “There’s only three hundred and fifty on the ship. Even if those remaining one-fifty are loyal, we still have a serious problem on our hands.”
“And what are the chances that we only talked to the disloyal ones?” Ironhide shook his head, “Something’s going on here.”
“What do you guys think?” Ratchet asked, “Do we show this to Optimus?”
“No,” Ironhide said immediately, “He already knows there’s trouble. If he knew the extent of it…”
“He’d resign,” Chromia finished softly.
“Exactly,” Ironhide continued, “You all know Optimus. If he thought most of his force wanted him out, he’d leave. No matter what it cost him.”
There was an uneasy silence, “We can’t let that happen,” Wheeljack said finally, “Even if the others don’t believe it right now, we need him. He’s the only leader I can see getting us through this.”
“And can you imagine a life under Prowl’s dictation?” Ironhide shivered, “I resign the same day Optimus does.”
“I think all of us will,” Wheeljack paused for a second, “But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Ratchet, you said there were less than ten still loyal. Who else is there besides us?”
“Jazz still is,” Ratchet consulted some records, “And Elita-one, obviously. But that’s it.”
“So there are six of us to take on three hundred and forty-nine,” Ironhide concluded, “Something isn’t right about this.”
Ratchet threw up his arms in frustration, “For the Allspark’s sake, Ironhide! Optimus made a difficult, unpopular decision that could cost us our race! Are you really surprised that no one’s ecstatic about it?”
“I don’t expect ecstatic, Ratchet!” Ironhide snapped back, “But I’m just saying that three hundred and fifty loyal troops don’t turn disloyal overnight! Something’s got to be wrong!”
“And do you really believe that, or do you just not want to face reality?”
“Enough, you two!” Chromia snapped, “We’ve got enough problems on our hands without infighting!”
Ratchet and Ironhide eyed each other warily as she continued, “Everyone’s upset. We’ve lost the Allspark, and now we have this to deal with. But yelling at each other is not going to help anything.”
“Sorry, Ratchet,” Ironhide said after a moment, “This just took me by surprise, is all. I thought once we got away from Cybertron, things would settle down.”
“Me too,” Ratchet gave his friend a wry smile, “It seems that our luck is to end one war, or at least postpone it, only to begin another.”
Ironhide chuckled a little, “I know,” he turned his attention back to the others, “I don’t know what to say. I guess we just support Optimus as best we can for now, and hope this blows over eventually.”
“And keep our optics out for anything that seems amiss,” Wheeljack added, “I’m more inclined to agree with you, Ironhide. Something about this doesn’t feel right.”
The Ark, that night
Optimus lifted his head at a knock at the door. He was at his desk at the moment, trying to think of ways to regain the trust of his troops. Elita moved to answer it, and he paused to listen, “Evening, Bumblebee, Cliffjumper,” he heard her say, “What brings you here?”
“We’re here for Optimus,” Bumblebee’s digital voice sounded strange somehow, but Optimus couldn’t pin down the difference, “Prowl wishes to speak with him.”
“Then Prowl can come here,” Elita sounded tense, “Optimus is still his leader, and Prowl would do well to remember that.”
Optimus joined her at the door, “Did Prowl say what he wanted?”
The two young Autobots exchanged glances, “He wants to brings charges against you for your crimes,” Cliffjumper said finally.
“I see. So I am to be taken into custody?”
“Not if you respond peacefully,” Bumblebee assured.
“Optimus, you can’t believe that,” Elita said when she saw him hesitate, “Prowl wants you either dead or gone. He’ll never settle for peace, and neither should you.”
Optimus considered for a moment more, and then shook his head, “I’m sorry,” he said to his visitors, “I don’t intend to give up leadership that easily.”
“Then we can use force,” Cliffjumper lunged at Optimus.
The attack took the Autobot leader a little by surprise. While Bumblebee and Cliffjumper were talented soldiers, he and Elita had the advantage of both size and experience. And he had never quite expected an attack like this to come so soon. He backed up several feet and threw Bumblebee into some furniture. Behind him, Elita sent Cliffjumper sprawling with a kick.
Both soldiers were up in an instant, firing weapons even as they charged again. Elita cried out as a blast hit her shoulder, and barely managed to duck Cliffjumper’s punch. Distracted by his spark partner’s distress, Optimus took a glancing blow from Bumblebee. Determined to end this as soon as possible, Optimus grabbed the little Autobot by the shoulders. He slammed him into the wall, hard enough to knock him unconscious but not do lasting damage. Elita pulled a similar maneuver with Cliffjumper, and with seconds the two were flat on the floor.
Optimus moved closer to inspect Elita, “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she rubbed her injured shoulder, “Cliffjumper never was the most powerful shooter.”
“I know,” Optimus looked at their would-be attackers, “I can’t believe they attacked us. Did they actually expect to win?”
“I don’t know,” Elita responded, “And what happened to Bumblebee? You’ve been his idol for thousands of years. Even if he doubted you, I can’t believe he’d be willing to attack.”
Optimus nodded absent-mindedly. He lugged Bumblebee off the ground and looked him over, “I think they’ll be all right, but it probably wouldn’t hurt to have Ratchet check them out. Just in case.”
Elita sighed, “Only you, Optimus, would care for a failed assassin.”
“I don’t think they were trying to assassinate me,” Optimus corrected, “Just facilitating the action. Can you keep an eye on Cliffjumper? I’ll be back for him in a second.”
“Sure.”
Optimus dragged the unconscious Bumblebee down to the medbay, grateful that there were no Autobots present in the corridor. Considering his current popularity, he didn’t think this would make anyone happy. Ratchet looked up from his workstation as Optimus entered, and his eyes widened, “What in the name of the Allspark-?”
“It’s a long story, Ratchet,” Optimus cut him off, “And I’ve still got to get Cliffjumper. Can you just take him?”
“I…sure,” Ratchet helped Optimus set Bumblebee on one of the infirmary beds. The yellow Autobot stirred slightly and groaned.
“You better keep an eye on him,” Optimus warned, “He may be a handful when he wakes up and figures out where he is.”
Ratchet looked at him with disbelief, “You do know this is Bumblebee we’re talking about, right?”
“I’ll explain later,” Optimus hurried back to his apartment. Cliffjumper hadn’t moved at all, and Elita helped him move the orange Autobot. Their trip to the medbay was uneventful, and they made it there in a matter of minutes.
Ratchet was waiting for them by the door, a grim expression on his face, “Optimus, I need you to find Jazz, Wheeljack, Ironhide and Chromia. There’s something all of you need to see.”
Ten minutes later, the appointed Autobots had gathered in the medbay, “I was doing a processor scan on Bumblebee to make sure that no internal damage had occurred,” Ratchet began. Optimus had already explained the details of the fight, “Luckily, there was none. However, my scan did pick up something highly unusual. A foreign object, one whose energy signature I had never seen before.”
“It took some intensive magnetism-the thing was lodged pretty far in-but I was able to remove it,” Ratchet held up a metal square about the size of his fingertip, “It’s some sort of programming chip.”
Everyone examined it, “Strange,” Optimus finally commented, “I wonder where Bumblebee picked it up.”
“So did I. I was willing to write it off as an anomaly, but then I did some scans of it,” Ratchet said, “It generates fairly powerful waves for its size. Waves that match Autobot neurological ones in both frequency and wavelength.”
“Wait a second,” Wheeljack objected, “You’re saying this thing was in his processor generating neurological waves? That could mean-“
“Yes,” Ratchet said, “It means that this chip was partially capable of controlling Bumblebee.”
He waited for the protests to die down, “Can you explain this a little further?” Jazz finally asked, “You eggheads lost us soldiers.”
“Sure,” Ratchet replied, “Imagine a normal Autobot processor. Waves are generated that control movement, thought, speech, you name it. Obviously there are a lot of waves generated, and it’s the processor’s job to sift through them and decide which ones to act on.”
Everyone nodded, “Now imagine the waves generated by this chip are competing with the waves of the processor. If its message is not totally at odds with what the Autobot is thinking, it could have substantial influence over them. Perhaps even control, if enough time had passed.”
“Wouldn’t the Autobot notice the difference?” Chromia asked, “I would hope I could tell my thoughts from the thoughts of a chip.”
“There’s no difference on the neurological level,” Ratchet shrugged, “Sensors should have picked it up as a foreign object, but perhaps some bit of code on the chip disabled them. There’s no way to know until I study it further.”
Ironhide looked confused, “So someone implants a chip into Bumblebee just to influence him? What purpose could that possibly serve?”
“I bet it’s not just Bumblebee, though,” Elita jumped in, “Ratchet, could you do a quick scan of Cliffjumper and the rest of us?”
The medic nodded. The scan revealed that every single one of them, excluding Optimus, was infected, “So that’s what’s been going on,” Wheeljack mused, “Someone implants a chip-“
“You might as well say Prowl,” Ironhide cut him off, “He’s the only one that could be behind this.”
Wheeljack nodded, “So Prowl implants chips in every member of the Autobot force. He works to influence them against Optimus, who then resigns because he thinks that his entire force wants him out.”
“He couldn’t have picked a better time, either,” Chromia said, “With the whole Allspark thing, everyone had doubts. Normally they would have gotten over them, but Prowl’s chips swayed them into thinking they needed to be rid of Optimus.”
“And only a few were able to withstand it,” Optimus sighed.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Prime,” Ironhide said, “Your forces are still loyal. Like Chromia said, they would have gotten over their doubts eventually. But Prowl took advantage of the situation.”
“I still want to know how he managed to infect everyone, though,” Wheeljack said, “I feel like most Autobots would have noticed if he shoved a chip into the back of their head.”
“I need some more time to analyze this thing,” Ratchet said, “Wheeljack, do you want to help me?”
The scientist nodded, “We need to remove the chips from Cliffjumper and everyone else, too. I’d hate for Prowl to find out that we’ve undermined his scheme and have him detonate them or something.”
Jazz winced, “I second that.”
Bumblebee groaned and opened his eyes. He recognized the medbay, and it took him a few minutes to figure out what had happened. As soon as he saw his leader, however, it all came rushing back, “Prime?” he asked digitally.
Optimus was at his side instantly, “How are you feeling, Bumblebee?”
“Okay…I guess. But…you’re not mad? I…I think I attacked you…”
Optimus looked faintly amused, “You did.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t-”
“It’s all right-it wasn’t your fault,” Optimus explained the chips, and even showed Bumblebee the one Ratchet had removed from his head, “Prowl’s the only one to blame here, my friend. If nothing else, Elita and I got a good workout.”
Bumblebee still looked downcast, “But everyone else here was able to resist it. I gave in to my doubts, so that must mean I’m not loyal enough.”
“Bumblebee,” Optimus said gently, “Barely two weeks you had your arm ripped off and your vocal processor crushed. Your arm was repaired, but the muteness remains permanent. Any Autobot has the right to doubt, under those circumstances. I’ve never questioned your loyalty, and I’m honored to have it after all of this.”
Bumblebee took that in for a moment, and then he nodded, “Thank you, Optimus. I’ll try to do better next time.”
“I’m sure you’ll succeed,” Optimus sat up and looked around. Ironhide and Chromia were lounging by the medbay entrance, providing a casual guard in case trouble arose. Wheeljack and Ratchet were conversing in hushed tones as they ran diagnostics on one of the chips. Elita was staring out a window, deep in thought, while Jazz restlessly paced back and forth.
Ratchet finally looked up, “Optimus, I think we’ve figured out enough about the chip to defeat it.”
Optimus nodded, “Go ahead and tell us, then,” he didn’t have to order the other Autobots to assemble; they did it as soon as they heard the exchange.
“First, the method of infection,” Ratchet held up the chip, “When activated, the chip generates magnetic waves that alternatively attract it to a host and then repel from that host. It does it quickly enough that a sort of crawling is achieved. If I could have a volunteer, I’ll demonstrate,” he took a step toward Ironhide.
Ironhide backed up and raised his cannon in warning, “Keep that thing away from me, Ratchet.”
“Its mind control function is deactivated, Ironhide,” Ratchet said impatiently, “And I’ll stop it before it gets into your head, if that makes you feel better.”
Ironhide hesitated, and then nodded reluctantly and held out an arm. There was a soft hum from the chip as Ratchet activated it, and they all watched for close to a minute as it slowly crept up Ironhide’s exoskeleton, “Fascinating,” Optimus finally murmured.
Ironhide shivered, “Can you get it off now? I think we get the idea.”
Ratchet nodded, sent the signal, and caught the chip as it fell away, “The second puzzle was how it managed not to set off the foreign object sensors. You wouldn’t have noticed it if you hadn’t known it was there, would you, Ironhide?”
The weapons specialist shook his head, “None of my sensors gave me any warning.”
“Exactly,” Ratchet said, “The chip carries within it a piece of code that fools the sensors into thinking that it’s just another moving gear. Ingenious, yet extraordinarily simple.”
“Last of all, Wheeljack and I figured out that the chip is networked to the other chips of its kind. The waves they generate originate from a single command chip, embedded in the processor of their creator.”
“Prowl,” Jazz supplied.
“Right,” Ratchet said, “So think of it this way. Prowl, and possibly some of his colleagues, spend a couple of days infecting everyone aboard the Ark. It wouldn’t take much-a handshake, a slap on the shoulder, or even a well-placed throw would be sufficient to land the chip. A day or so later, he starts quiet protests against Optimus. Already wracked with doubt and worry, most listen to him. The chips take over, and within a week he has most of the forces on his side.”
A quiet groan from Cliffjumper interrupted them, “What’s going on?”
“Shhh,” Bumblebee said to his friend, “I’ll explain everything in a minute.”
“So how do we stop Prowl?” Ironhide’s eyes gleamed, “Can I take him out?”
“That might work,” Wheeljack said, “All we’ve got to do, though, is destroy that chip. Once that’s accomplished, each individual will regain control or him or herself.”
“I think a sufficient blow to the head would probably do it,” Ratchet concluded, “That should at least disable enough of the chip’s processing to be efficient.”
Bumblebee quickly filled Cliffjumper in while the others plotted strategy, “So I knock on his door,” Ironhide summarized, “When he answers it, I deck him, drag him in here, we remove the chip and call it good.”
Jazz shook his head, “And what happens if he doesn’t answer? Or has backup?”
“That’s why I take Chromia,” Ironhide said.
Optimus shook his head, “I think we’re going to have to do better than-“
“OPTIMUS PRIME!”
The roar claimed everyone’s attention. Even through a closed door, there was no mistaking the triumph in Prowl’s voice, “COME OUT QUIETLY! YOUR REIGN OF TYRANNY IS OVER!”
Chromia and Ironhide darted forward to reinforce the door, “Jazz, get over here!” Ironhide barked.
The black and white Autobot was already moving. Using a combination of heat and magnetism, he sealed the door closed, “That should hold it!”
“For about ten seconds,” Chromia eyed the door as it began shuddering from missile impacts, “Anyone got a plan?”
“All we have to do is hit Prowl hard,” Wheeljack reasoned, “And then the attack is over.”
“And what about his three hundred friends?” Ironhide countered. He began pushing an infirmary bed toward the door, “I guarantee you that Prowl’s not going to be at the front of this charge.”
“Don’t move all the beds, Ironhide,” Optimus ordered, “We’ll need cover when that door goes down,” he and the others worked on setting up a perimeter with beds, tables, and any other furniture they could find.
Ratchet grimaced, “I’m going to have a lot of repairs to do in here when this is all over.”
“We’ll help you,” Optimus soothed. He studied their handiwork, “If we spread out our fire, maybe we can fight them back long enough to get at Prowl.”
The door gave one last massive shudder, “Take cover!” Ironhide yelled, “We’re about to have company!”
“Utilize only pulse blasts!” Optimus barked his own orders as they scrambled into position, “No matter their current actions, they’re still our friends!”
The door fell in before anything further could be said. All nine Autobots fired instantly, knocking the first wave of attackers back. But they were up again in an instant. Dozens of Autobots poured through the front door, far too many to hit with a pulse cannon.
Wheeljack sent out a sensory blast designed to temporarily blind enemy sensors. The Autobots nearest to him stumbled over each other, and he darted back to reinforce Ratchet. Cliffjumper and Bumblebee traded blows with fellow apprentices Sideswipe and Arcee. Cliffjumper cried out as one of Sideswipe’s blades sliced into his arm, and he staggered backwards. Only a quick shot from Bumblebee saved him from being skewered.
“Come on!” Jazz taunted the mass, “I dare any one of you to catch me!” he vaulted over an examination table and onto a bedside table, winning himself a score of pursuers.
Behind him, Chromia and Ironhide were back to back, firing pulse blasts and landing the occasional blow, “On your left!” Ironhide warned, wrestling Jolt back. Chromia hit her attacker, Bluestreak, between the optics and threw him aside. She then whirled and slammed into Inferno, who was about to turn Ironhide into a molten heap with his plasma cannon, “Thanks!” Ironhide yelled.
She couldn’t help but grin, “What would you do without me?”
Optimus and Elita in particular were getting hit hard. Optimus guessed that Prowl had set his capture as the primary goal of this assault, “Autobots!” he cried, ducking a blow while simultaneously landing another one, “This isn’t your will! Prowl’s controlling you! Fight that control!”
“Do we look like we’re under his control?” Salvage snarled, advancing. He ducked Optimus’ punch and sliced at his leg. The Autobot leader went down hard on one knee, and Salvage had a knife to his throat in an instant.
“Optimus!” Elita cried.
“Cease fire!” Salvage barked, not only to her but to the rest of Optimus’ team, “Or I’ll be handing you your leader’s disembodied head!”
Combat slowed, and then stopped altogether. Blurr tackled Jazz, “Caught you,” he hissed.
Within seconds, it was over.
The loyal Autobots were forced to their knees and restrained. For any still considering fighting back, a cannon was trained inches from their head. Once they were subdued, Prowl strode confidently into the room, “Optimus Prime,” he purred, “So nice to finally see you.”
Optimus glared at him defiantly, “And you as well. I’ve been looking forward to the moment I finally got to call you a traitor.”
“Traitor?” Prowl sounded offended, “Study your own actions before you brand others with that title, Prime.”
“At least I never had to use mind control to ensure the loyalty of my troops,” Optimus snapped.
“Mind control?” Prowl’s expression faltered for just a second, but then he laughed, “You think I’m controlling them?”
Laughter echoed from the other Autobots in the room, “Sideswipe!” Prowl called, “Have you acted under anything other than your free will?”
“Of course not.”
“How about you, Jolt?”
“No.”
“You see, Optimus,” Prowl said, “Your forces know that it’s time for a new leader. One who’s more intelligent, resourceful-“
“Oh, come on, Prowl!” Prowl whirled to see Ironhide watching defiantly, “Spare us the gloating routine!”
Prowl stalked toward him, “If you value your life, Ironhide, you’ll start pleading for my mercy right now.”
“If I value my dignity, it will take a lot more than death for me to do that,” Ironhide shot back.
Prowl deployed a cannon and pointed it at Ironhide’s head, “I’m waiting.”
“Wait a lot longer.”
“No!” Chromia cried, “Please, Prowl, don’t hurt him!”
Prowl looked at her for a long moment and considered. Then he turned back to Ironhide and fired.
“Ironhide!” Chromia screamed. The weapons specialist glared up at Prowl for a second longer, and then he toppled onto his side.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” Prowl addressed the motionless Ironhide. He then walked over to Chromia, who was glaring at him murderously, “Sorry, my dear. It was too good an opportunity to pass up,” he nodded to Chromia’s guards, “Kill her.”
But nothing happened. The guards were looking dazed, as if they had just come out of a week-long stasis. As Prowl looked around, he realized that every one of his followers had the same expression, “Autobots!” he yelled, “Come back to me! They’re all traitors!”
“No, Autobots!” Optimus seized the moment, “He’s the traitor! He’s been manipulating your thoughts, your actions! Will you allow that?”
A hostile murmur swept through the room, and Prowl suddenly looked very nervous, “Now Optimus, I…”
“You made a big mistake, Prowl,” Wheeljack moved to stand beside his leader, “They’ll only listen to you if your message follows their own basic beliefs. Capture and exile is one thing, but murder is quite another.”
“Seize him,” Optimus ordered. In control of themselves once again, Prowl’s former followers hurried to obey.
“No!” Prowl shrieked as he was restrained, “I’m the leader! You sent the Allspark into space!”
“An action solely for the benefit of the Autobots and Cybertron,” Optimus walked forward to glare down at him, “Perhaps if you gave it a little more thought, you would understand. But just so we’re all on the same page…“ Optimus sent his fist flying into Prowl’s face. The Autobot slumped forward, unconscious, and the last vestiges of his control disappeared.
Optimus found his entire force staring at him in shock, “I’ll explain later,” he reassured, “For now, I want him locked up. A double guard needs to be posted at all times. If there seems to be any odd behavior, contact me at once.”
He watched for a second as his orders were carried out, and then turned toward the corner of the room. Ratchet was inspecting Ironhide, while Chromia watched frantically. Feeling a pang of fear, Optimus walked over, “Is he-?”
“His energy levels have dropped critically low,” Ratchet looked grieved, “I don’t think…”
He trailed off, and all of them looked at Chromia. The blue Autobot was bent over Ironhide, “Please, Ironhide, don’t leave me,” she whispered, stroking his cheek, “You saved Optimus and the Autobot cause. You can’t die now.”
There was a long pause, “Please, Ironhide,” Chromia begged, “I love you.”
Optimus looked away, his head bowed in grief. He hugged Elita and closed his eyes, unable to accept that one of his closest friends was dying.
And then there was a cough. Optimus whirled back around to see Ironhide with his eyes open, staring up at Chromia, “Is this heaven?” he rasped weakly, trying to sit up.
Chromia stared at him for a second, and then hugged him fiercely, “I’ll take that as a yes,” Ironhide mumbled into her shoulder.
The Ark, two weeks later
What is the price of peace? Is it worth the loss of a planet, a home world? Or maybe the chance to continue one’s species, to watch new lives flourish and grow?
Certainly, it is worth the death of a traitor.
Prowl had quietly been put offline almost two weeks ago. The decision grieved Optimus, who seemed doomed never to have easy choices to make. Prowl had been a close advisor and friend for many years. In some respects, Optimus would have preferred to give him a second chance, to become the Autobot he had been once again.
But at the same time, Optimus had known that Prowl would never have a normal place among the Autobots again. He had manipulated them, turned them against their leader, and nearly murdered one of their most valuable members. No one would ever trust him. Exile also wasn’t an option, since he would be a dangerous enemy if the Decepticons ever found him. Prowl knew enough about the Autobots that he could end countless innocent lives that way. Death remained the most humane and logical option.
For a few days, Elita had thought the whole ordeal was going to tear them apart. But, oddly enough, Optimus couldn’t have come up with a better way to unify the Autobots if he had tried. Like Bumblebee, many were horrified that they had been turned so easily against their leader. Countless Autobots came to him individually to apologize, or even to attempt to resign. Optimus reassured all of them, and their trust in him was restored.
Elita smiled a little as she watched him greet various council members. Along with his followers, Optimus had seemed to forgive himself for the Allspark ordeal. It wasn’t over by any means, but they were ready to face the problem now instead of grieving over it. He was the strong leader all of them had known again, and for that she was grateful.
“Welcome, Autobots,” Optimus moved forward to start the meeting, “Thanks again for being here.”
There was a soft tap at the door, as if an Autobot had moved to open it and then hesitated. Optimus couldn’t help but smile, “You two can come in.”
The door swooshed open, and a sheepish Ironhide and Chromia walked in, “We were ten seconds faster this time,” Chromia defended. They sat down as the rest of the council chuckled, “And what can you honestly expect from a cripple?”
Ironhide yelped in protest, “Cripple?”
Optimus shook his head in amusement, “I’ll let it go this time, Ironhide, with your head torn open and all. But next time, we’re going to have to talk.”
Ironhide grinned at the teasing, “Bring it, Prime!”
“Oh, you just wait. But, anyway, back to the announcements. Ratchet has removed and destroyed the last of the chips,” Optimus frowned and reread the statement to make sure he had it correct, “Really, Ratchet? You didn’t keep any to study?”
“Not this time,” the medic responded, “That’s one technology I don’t ever want to see in warfare again.”
Optimus shrugged, “I guess I can’t say I blame you. Though they may have been useful against the Decepticons.”
“Not really,” Jazz quipped, “Imagine trying to get a Decepticon to agree with you on anything!”
Optimus and the others laughed, “That’s true. Let’s see…no further ship malfunctions, which is good. Did anyone have an idea for Prowl’s replacement?”
There was a pause, and then Ironhide spoke, “I think either Bumblebee or Sideswipe may be a good pick. They’re young, but the experience may be good for them.”
“Perhaps,” Optimus considered, “At the moment, though, it’s not too big an issue. We may not even need someone in that position anymore, since there are less of us aboard the Ark than there were on Cybertron. We’ll have to see.”
“I think that’s it. Does anyone have any additional announcements? Preferably ones that do not involve my deposition and death, if that’s not too much to ask.”
There was a moment of silence, and Elita breathed a sigh of relief, “Thank goodness.”
Optimus smiled, “Don’t worry, ‘lita. I think the worst is behind us. But still, no one has anything?”
No one spoke, “Then, my fellow Autobots, it’s time we found the Allspark.”
