The Energon Pub

Hanger

Once First Aid had acquired his medical kit, and few other supplies, the Protectobot took off down the corridor at an accelerated pace. The whole situation was strange…and escape pod launched from the Ark – 19 and there might be a saboteur on board. Could this orn get any stranger.

Upon his arrival First Aid noticed that Hot Spot, Blades and Streetwise were already present with their weapons at the ready. The doctor let out a heavy sigh as he moved in to stand slightly behind but next to Hot Spot.

From his vantage point he could see Jazz and Hoist now standing outside of the escape pod. His optics brightened in surprise as he noticed Hoist had Ironfist draped over his shoulder. The weapon’s engineer looked to be in stasis and was in need of assistance.

Breaking protocol First Aid pushed past his commander and teammates. He stopped directly in front of Hoist and pulled out a portable scanner. It took several minutes but he was able to get a good idea as to what was wrong with Ironfist. The mech would be fine, but he would wake up with a nasty processor ache.

“He’ll be fine. I want you three to come with me to the med bay. I want to get a closer look at any injuries. Follow me.”

First Aid turned toward the door and shot Hot Spot a heated glare.

“You couldn’t honestly believe that any of them were saboteurs. These are our friends, they always have been! I swear, Prowl is becoming just as paranoid as Red Alert!”

It was highly unusual for the reserved pacifist to actually show any outward hostility or anger, but the situation was simply ridiculous.

Corridors

Blurr was wandering around the corridors of the Guardian wondering where on Earth had everyone disappeared. Wandering for the courier, of course, was more like a jog or a bounding sprint. Speed was just a part of who Blurr was. To walk ‘normally’ tended to be a foreign concept to the courier more often than not.

As Blurr peeked down another corridor, he wondered for the umpteenth time where everyone had disappeared to. He considered going to get a drink in the mess hall. Someone was bound to come by eventually. As he headed down another corridor making the approach to the mess hall, Blurr heard a familiar voice coming from the Med Bay. Theretheyare!

Blurr sprinted down the hall and slid to a stop in front of the doorway looking in at the group of Autobots gathered there. His optics swept the room quickly for the source of the voice that had drawn him here and spotted him quickly. A wide smile broke out on Blurr’s face as he approached Warpath. “Hey! Warpath,” Blurr said, concentrating on slowing his words down so he could be understood, “I thought I heard you down here!”

Blurr looked at the others in the room, nodding to them in greeting with a bright smile when Rodimus caught his optic. He looked familiar. Really familiar. Blurr couldn’t place his finger on it. Blurr’s smile faded for an instant, replaced by a thoughtful expression, but Blurr dismissed it an astrosecond later.

The courier looked back to Warpath and smiled at him good-naturedly. “What are you doing here? The med bay isn't the mess hall. Doc's gotta work and all that.”

Hanger

Jazz frowned at Hot Spot when the Protectobot leader ordered him like a guard to a prisoner. Jazz sighed, Grimlock must have said something. Either way, he had to obey or he would have his face blown off by Hot Spot and the rest of the Protectobots.

Jazz grabbed his Ion Rifle and tossed it in front of him. He then disconnected his flamethrower that was still resting on his shoulder and tossed it as well. He didn't like being treated like a prisoner, especially by his friends.

First-Aid walked in and defended the three. Jazz couldn't help but to feel guilty, sure he had tried to sabotage the 19, but he did it in the best of intentions, there was even a replacement on the ground in front of it! Either way, now was not the time to be talking about it. He would have to talk to Prowl directly.

"Thank you, man, but get to Ironfist and Hoist first. I'll live." Jazz said as began to walk, if not in a daze, into the Med Bay.

Medical Bay – Surgical Suite

With the help of Dustspark, Ratchet was able to reach the small breach in Axle’s spark chamber casing. The repair didn’t take as long as the CMO had expected, but it had still been delicate work. Ratchet had begun to relax while finishing up on Axle’s chest wound
.
“Alright, Axle. You’re gonna be fine. Just have to finish up repairing these breaches. You’ll be as good as new in no time.”

Ratchet knew his subordinate couldn’t hear him, but it simply felt right to say something.

Ratchet’s processor began to wander through all of the repairs and emergency surgeries. Everyone he’s repaired, and everyone he’d lost their faces manifested in his mind’s eye, all of them seemed to judge him now. Is this how it starts? It must be. First I begin to doubt myself, and then others begin to doubt me.

The thoughts had finally been shaken from his processor as Ratchet finally completed Axle’s repairs. The open wound on the field medic’s chest was now sealed and already in the process of integrating the patch as a part of his armor. Satisfied that Axle was out of danger, Ratchet attached an IV into his patient’s main energon line and began to push a medical grade energon supplement.

After taking one final look over all of the equipment Ratchet swiped up a nearby datapad and took a seat in a chair next to Axle’s surgical slab. The CMO gave a heavy sigh as he began to mumble to himself.

“I’m going to need to rotate this schedule between First Aid and I until you’re back on your feet. Just mark my words, Axle; I will not go easy on you once you’re finally awake.”

Ratchet checked off a few noted items on the pad and stood up. He would have to brief Prowl on everything that’s happened in the med bay since both Earth bound teams arrived back on the Guardian. The medical bot made his way to his desk on the other side of the suite. He flopped down on the stool, placed his elbow on the desk top and opened a link with the new interim Autobot leader.

>>”Prowl. Ratchet. I’m free to brief you on everything that’s occurred in the med bay, but you’ll need to come here for it. I’m still watching over Axle.”<<

(OOC: Since the med bay is not directly attached to the hangar, I’m going to assume that Jazz is walking into the corridor when Prowl arrives.)

Hangar Bay

Prowl hurried through the corridors of the frigate in a desperate attempt to reach the hangar before any of the escape pod’s occupants had a chance to leave the room. Hopefully, Hot Spot had received his comm line, but the military strategist didn’t want to take any chances. He assumed Kup was close behind him, but it mattered little as the black and white fully intended to handle the situation himself. Of course, any back up the old timer wanted to provide would be greatly appreciated.

Arriving at the hangar, Prowl noticed Jazz attempting to exit the chamber. The analyst walked up to the Earth-loving mech and placed a hand on his arm. “Jazz, I need to go back inside for a moment. I need to address all of you regarding what just happened with the Dinobots.” Prowl then guided Jazz back into the hangar where Hoist, Ironfist, Hot Spot, Streetwise, Blades and First Aid were all still located.

“I’ll take it from here, Hot Spot,” Prowl said as he approached the Protectobot Commander and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I think it’s also safe to assume that there are no saboteurs here, so everyone can lower their weapons and relax.” The interim Autobot Commander then turned to address all those present in the room, especially the escape pod’s occupants. “I want to apologize for what has happened to all of you. Grimlock and his brood can be overly aggressive at times and they will be punished for their actions....eventually. Unfortunately, we do not currently have the mech power or the resources to chase after them. There’s no telling where exactly they went to, but Grimlock claims that he will be back with more firepower to fight the ‘Cons with. Considering his unorthodox methods of warfare and penchant for disobeying orders, it is logical to believe that he will return. Therefore, I will deal with him and his group at that juncture. I can promise you all that.”

Prowl then paused for a moment and stepped into the center of the hangar, glancing around the large room at everyone present. The look on his faceplate had already been of a serious nature, but now it was even more so than before. “I want everyone here to listen to me carefully and remember what I say now. This is very important. You are NOT to talk about what really happened to the Ark-19 or the fight with the Dinobots. If anyone inquires, the ship was simply sent out for repairs and nothing more. I’m sorry, but morale is already low enough around here as it is, we don’t need it to get any worse. Not to mention, Red Alert is over on the Ark-22 already freaking out right now, so under no circumstances are any of you to talk to him about this. I’m giving all of you a direct order, and I expect it to be obeyed. Failure to do so with result in time spent in the brig. Is that clearly understood?”

The military strategist looked from one mech to another before allowing his facial expression to soften into more friendly features. As he did so, he received a comm from Ratchet, stating that if he wanted a briefing from him, Prowl would need to go to the med bay and get it himself. The black and white sent a non-verbal acknowledgment to the CMO before returning his attention to those around him. “Well, if there are no questions then you are all dismissed. Take the wounded to the medical bay and get them fixed up, First Aid. I’m heading there now, myself. Hot Spot, you can debrief me on the Kansas mission as we make way down there. Now, let’s go.”

Hanger Bay

"I doubt those five abandoned their posts... at least not without just cause Prowl." Ironfist's voice slowly crawled from his loose face guard. His speech was slow and soft, as if his processors slowly struggled to fit words into proper sequences. His audio receptors were still active and sending him constant data feeds.

He slowly turned head over to allow his dimmed optic feeds to register the flood of concerned Autobots, including a band of familiar Protectobots. The weapons engineer allowed his expression to soften. At least they weren't holding photon pistols at his head, or wielding broad swords aimed directly at his throat. "You can... quit fussing First Aid." His voice still low but at least his internal systems were slowly beginning to mend the damage done by the prolonged exposure to the power generator radiation.

Course the proper question he would probably pose to himself was, why the hell would anyone be willing to jump into a radiation soaked engine well until proper decontamination teams had cleared it. Or better yet, why didn't he bother to wear the proper shielding for the same job? Ironfist inwardly smirked at the notion as he already knew the answer. He did exactly what Impactor and the Wreckers would do, he leaped to the occasion. Unfortunately he ignored too many recharges to maintain his own personal integrity field, or overrode too many low energy warnings. The tussle with the Dinobots just brought the whole pot to a boil.

His optics slowly darted towards Prowl and Hotspot briefly. "Sorry." His features to a solemn expression of failure. "The repairs, were patches. It enabled them to..."

Hanger Bay

First Aid had begun to make his way toward the door to the hanger when he was stopped in his tracks by the arrival of Prowl and the return of Jazz. The doctor’s optics dimmed slightly as he moved back toward the others still stuck in the bay. All he wished to do right now was to get Ironfist to the medical bay so he could run a full battery of tests. Who knows what kind of internal injuries the mech has suffered. And now they were stuck here.

The Protectobot medic took up a position next to Hot Spot after the strategist announced that his commander was no longer needed in a security position. First Aid let out a low sigh silently thanking Primus that things had not dissolved into mindless violence…and with their own friends at that.

Then is came. The one thing aside from raising a gun and fighting in a war. Lying. Lying about their stolen ship. Lying about the Dinobots being the ones to steal it. Prowl said it was to keep up morale but he suspected that the mech was just trying to save face with his subordinates.

As soon as the strategist was finished with their new set of orders, First Aid moved back to Hoist and checked on Ironfist one last time. The medic did not respond to Prowl’s inquiry. He fully understood everything the black and white had said he just did not agree with any of it. It went against everything he stood for. Lying solved nothing; it only brought on more lies, and eventually those lies manifested into fighting. From there things escalated until there was nothing left to do but go to war.

As soon as Prowl turned his attention to Hot Spot, First Aid motioned with his head to Hoist letting the mechanic know that their next stop would be the med bay.

“Come on Hoist. I still need to have a better look at Ironfist. I’ll need to run a few tests as well.”

As he started to lead the others to the door he stopped. The low tone of the Wrecker fanbot prompted First Aid to step behind the larger green ‘Bot to make sure Ironfist was alright now that he was awake. He ran another scan but paused when he was told that he needn’t fuss.

“I’ll have you know I “fuss” over all of my patients. So don’t you think you’re a special case.”

Even with the face shield in place it was easy to recognize the broad smile the Protectobot wore just underneath. That smile faded at Ironfist’s last words. The poor mech had wanted nothing more than to help and he got a beating as a reward. The doctor placed a hand gently on the mech’s upper arm and gave it a pat.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Ironfist. You did nothing wrong. You were just a victim of circumstance. Nothing more, nothing less. Now let’s get you back to the med bay.”

That same smile returned to the medic’s shielded face as he spoke his next words.

“And I don’t want you to worry. I’ll be the one taking care of you. The Hatchet’s not accepting any new patients until further notice.”

Hangar Bay

Streetwise was almost as relieved as First Aid when the order for weapons down came. The Protectobot put away his photon pistol gratefully and relaxed. He looked at Prowl as the strategist gave the command for this whole incident to remain a secret. Dinobots running off the Ark-19 was definitely a surprise, but nothing he wouldn't put past the Dinobots.

Orders were orders, but something about this bothered the interceptor. There was a certain logic behind keeping this secret, and Prowl practically functioned off of logic alone, but Streetwise felt that the others should know. This lack of communication within the Autobot faction was not something Streetwise was accustomed to. The Decepticons operated like this, not the Autobots. Or, at least it had seemed that way when Optimus was leading.

The Protectobot shrugged and moved over to Jazz, offering him a smile. "Sorry about that, Jazz."

Hangar

Hot Spot nodded as Hoist and the other Autobots came out of the escape pod peacefully. As he saw everyone get out he continued to think that none of them could be a saboteur. He didn’t know these Autobots personally, but their reputations were pretty spotless. Still, he had orders and he wasn’t about to put the safety of the ship on the line just because of how he felt about these Autobots. He would always play it safe when it came to security.

The Protectobot commander was happy to see First Aid enter the hangar. His expression changed to a frown as the medic scolded him. “We are playing it safe here First Aid. I don’t have all of the facts so I’m not going to make a decision against orders.”

Hot Spot raised his rifle as Jazz made his way out of the hangar. He was about to order him to stop when Prowl nearly ran into the other Autobot. He lowered his rifle as Jazz was steered back into the hangar. He nodded as Prowl took over the situation. He turned to his fellow Protectobots and motioned for them to stand down. The Autobot then turned his attention to what Prowl was saying with interest. While Prowl didn’t tell them every detail he could piece the rest together. Apparently the Dinobots were again living up to their reputation as mavericks.

The Protectobot’s expression turned grim as Prowl issued orders for them to cover up what had really happened. He did not like the idea of lying to fellow Autobots. Prowl might have a point about morale, but if the truth got out despite the effort to cover it up, it would be even worse for morale. Other Autobots wouldn’t exactly like the idea that they were being lied too. It could backfire on him in the future.

Hot Spot nodded as his orders were given. He stepped in closer to Prowl before they got going. “Sir, I would just like to say that I am very uncomfortable with myself and my team being instructed to lie to fellow Autobots. While I understand your thinking I believe this may create a sense of mistrust and unease among all of us.”

*

Kup followed Prowl down to the hangar, a serious expression on his face. He knew what he was here for, to lend some support to Prowl as leader. It was a position he was used to. He’d trained or been in charge of so many Autobots over the ages that pretty much everyone knew him and respected him, at least he hoped so. If his presence helped calm some of those younger bots down, then so be it.

The old timer did have to hide a grimace at Prowl’s instructions to keep everything secret. He didn’t care for that order, but it was probably necessary. Things were crazy enough as is without everyone worrying about the Dinobots going rogue. He just hoped they could keep it secret long enough for Grimlock to come back and fulfill his promise to get them more firepower. They would probably arrest him on the spot, but they could definitely use the boost that any kind of big guns could bring them.

*

Corridors

As soon as Prowl had given him permission Ironhide had quickly left the bridge, just barely avoiding stomping out of the room. It just totally burned him up inside thinking about the Dinobots ditching them like that, leaving them undergunned and undermanned at the worst possible time. If he lived for a billion years he would never understand someone like Grimlock and his need for grandstanding like this. With fists clenched and a scowl on his face the old security mech stalked the corridors towards the training room. It was the best place he had right now to let off some steam, at least until some Cons reared their ugly heads again.

Hangar Bay

Prowl could see the disapproving reactions plastered on the faceplates of those in the hangar bay as they each registered the orders the interim leader had just given them. He expected as much even if none of them wanted to voice their objections aloud. None except for Hot Spot, who had stepped in closer to Prowl in order to make his displeasure known in regards to lying to his fellow comrades about what had really happened to the Ark-19. The black and white stopped in his tracks near the doorway and looked over at the Protectobot Commander.

“Yes, well, I’m not very comfortable having to give that order, Hot Spot, but I’m afraid it’s necessary for the time being,” Prowl replied, locking optics with the blue mech in front of him. “It’s not just morale I’m trying to preserve here, it’s stability and unity. If the others learn that the Dinobots just up and took the 19 by force, there would be an outcry for justice that we cannot provide right now. Some would want to go after the Dinobots while others would use what has happened to help foster their own leadership ambitions. This could become a catalyst that might divide the Autobots in this sector, and I cannot and will not allow that to happen, especially not with the Decepticons making such irrational moves in an attempt to hide whatever it is that they are really doing down on Earth."

Prowl then took a step back in order to ease the slight tension that had unintentionally formed between himself and Hot Spot. "Look, I’m not at all happy about this, either, but we’re still fighting a war here during a time when the leadership of the Autobots is in flux. No one outside the Sol System even knows about Prime's apparent demise, which is technically a lie by omission. I'm sorry, but we're going to have to conceal the truth regarding the Ark-19 for the time being whether we want to or not. The benefits in doing so out way the risks as far as I'm concerned.”

Prowl then turned to see Kup standing nearby. Out of all the mechs present, the old timer was the only one who seemed somewhat okay with the military strategist’s orders. He couldn’t be sure, of course, as the veteran war horse was sometimes hard to read. This was especially true when Kup was chewing on that cygar of his, which was practically all of the time these days. Still, there appeared to be a look of concern etched on that aging faceplate, one that Prowl could not overlook so easily. “Why so quiet, Kup? You’ve never been one to be shy. Please, go ahead and say whatever’s on your processor. I’m listening.”

Hangar Bay

One minute Hoist was ordered to stay where he was by Hot Spot, the next First Aid was insisting he, Jazz and Ironfist come with him to the med bay, and then Prowl told them to stay where they were, and all the while the mechanic was just standing there holding his injured comrade.

As the strategist began to explain things, Hoist felt great relief at no longer being accused of sabotage. But then being ordered to keep quiet about the entire incident left him uncomfortable- especially when Red Alert was mentioned. Hoist would certainly follow the order as best he could, but he had his concerns.

Not telling Red Alert about it? That's easy, but getting him to believe you is another altogether. How can we possibly hide the truth from him when he sees conspiracies and secret plots behind every microchip?

Hoist was about to voice his concerns when Ironfist began to talk and stir again.

"Now now, I think I've heard more then enough self-blame from you and Jazz today.", the maintenance specialist badgered, "We did what we could, but they had us outnumbered, outplanned and outmuscled. All we can do now is learn and move on."

Hoist stood for a moment as First Aid made another examination of the weapons expert, offering some words of encouragement.

"Right then, to the medical bay Ironfist. Our good Proecto-friend will lead the way!", Hoist told his injured passenger, "Just listen to First Aid, you'll be in much better hands then you're in now. Especially since I only have one, ha ha.", Hoist joked as carried Ironfist to he medical bay.

Guardian Bridge

The large gun metal gray titanium double doors gave retracted along their hidden tracks into the recesses of the opposing bulkheads as the duo of Nova Strike and Bumblebee approached the main bridge control deck, a half level below the over hanging command pedestal. The Ranger gave a brief nod to the officer on watch, a mech whose name he could not be bothered to remember out right. Nova's optics gave a brief sweep across the bridge. It was populated by Gamma Shift operators and monitor teams, all combined to a frenzy of an odd silence.

The bridge was not one of Nova Strike's more frequent haunts. In fact the last time he was on the bridge was back before they had even been assigned to the Sol support operation. But from what he remembered from that time was that even the bridge was a virtual buzz of activity regardless of the time. With the departure of the '19, he would not have been surprised to see the various sensor stations reporting back trajectories, vectors or even velocity calculations or some other such techno babble he really had no interest in following with any great detail.

"You would think they would have at least a Commander on duty to manage the late shift." He quipped to the smaller Autobot with an implied bit of sarcasm as he pulled out a bench and spun it around until the open end was presented. He swung himself into the flat surface and plugged in a few commands into the unoccupied terminal.

"I suppose we'll just have to make ourselves useful and monitor." Nova Strike was cut off when the terminal flickered to life forming a green wire frame. Several alert windows popped up across the screen before small arrows connected the alert boxes to specific coordinates placing the disturbance out in the heart of the solar asteroid belt. Another sub-window began to flash underneath the sensor pins.

"Oh scrap," the ranger swore as he pulled himself out of the bench. He plugged in a few commands to help filter the signal the sensors were receiving. His face contorted as he struggled to decipher the information. "Hey Bee, got any words to help get this translated?"

Long Range Shuttle Longevity

Ultra Magnus adjusted his position within the chair, his optics practically split between the forward viewer and the data slate that he held tightly in his left hand. Lists of crew manifests, cargo invoices and even basics such as fuel consumption were intermittently divided by the moments of terror when Dice decided to revert to more dangerous flying. It wasn't exactly necessary, given the shuttle was emitting massive amounts of sensor diverting transmissions or Electronic Counter Measures, but for some reason the minibot was feeling it necessary to fly withing a few hundred meters of large asteroids to add to their covered approach.

Magnus did not doubt the abilities of the smaller mechanism, and at times encouraged the danger streak. Especially given the mech's primary job was to pilot drop ships into the thick of Decepticon ground defenses. At least it helped keep Dice from thinking of the tragedy that had taken place recently within the system they now called the front.

"Commander, we are leaving the cover of the Asteroid Field. Jamming field at 90% efficiency."

The City Commander toggled off the cargo manifests after confirming the list of medical supplies and set it on the armrest of his command chair. "Do we have visual of the Guardian and the two Arks?"

Dice stabilized the helm as he brought the vessel over the rise of one of the smaller balls of primordial rock and polarized the forward view screen as the large roiling ball of hydrogen gas threatened to blind them. He then turned his attention to the sensors. He refocused the forward array and began to refine the search perimeters. "Negative Commander. I am detecting only the Guardian and the Ark 22."

Magnus's attention was now totally invested in the forward viewer. "Care to confirm that Dice? Don't tell me there is an expanding ball of ionized particles in their same vicinity."

The pilot shook his head and brought up the long range image on the main screen. "No sir, I don't detect the mass or energy signatures that match the records of the 19. Maybe the automated updates were in error?"

"Not likely. If anything Prowl's team is nothing if not thorough." Magnus replied with a shake of his head. "Something isn't right in this sector."

Dice's expression immediately traversed the myriad of emotions as it returned to a stoic battle mode. "Shall I raise shields and arm weapons?"

Magnus thought for a moment. His fingers now pressed together under his chin. "No, I do not think that will be necessary. Hail them on command frequency, use encryption code, Calimar."

"Yes sir, Calimar. Frequency opened." Dice's fingers danced over the transmitter controls.

Ultra Magnus cleared his vocorder. "This is the Autobot Shuttle Longevity contacting Guardian. I repeat this is Ultra Magnus on board the Shuttle Longevity. Requesting clearance for approach and docking procedures."

Guardian Bridge

Nova Strike looked at Bumblebee and shook his head. "I don't recognize this encryption." He returned his gaze to the screen and the garbled sensor data and the thickly coded message they were receiving. "Got any ideas as to what it might be?"

Hangar

Similar to how First Aid deemed the situation to be, Blades also found it wobbling on the brink of absurdity. The occupants that disgorged from the escape pod were none other than Autobots—their comrades, their friends. It was an unpleasant experience having to treat them with suspicion and an apparent degree of hostility as though they had just captured a handful of Decepticons. Fortunately, Prowl appeared at the right moment and assumed control.

But his subsequent orders were unusual, awkward in their nature, and Blades had trouble accepting them. Despite that, he banished his doubts to the farthest reaches of his mind, opting to obey what had been instructed. One could have said that Blades had already had an encounter with the brig once before. The boredom and humiliation that attended him during his stay all that time ago he could certainly do without.

Blades lowered his photon pistol as Hot Spot gestured towards the Protectobots to do so. Offering a frown at his glorified lightbulb, he returned it to a sub-space compartment. Maybe one day it would serve him as efficiently as his rotors did, but he held little hope regarding that belief. A simple flash could never aspire to eviscerate his opponents just as his rotors had on countless occasions.

Disappointed with the outcome of the “saboteurs”, Blades folded him arms and waited for whatever instructions Hot Spot might have prepared for him and Streetwise.

Med Bay

Silverbolt’s optics blazed alive astroseconds after First Aid finished reattaching his optic to the repaired socket. His internal systems signaled the repairs being complete and full power was rerouted to the circuits allowing him to see without a dull tinge or threat of blackout again.

Overjoyed, he turned to thank the medic only to find First Aid off helping another Autobot. Not wanting to disturb him, Silverbolt vowed to thank him personally once the remaining repairs and detritus from the confrontations with the Decepticons was complete. With a surge of energon, he pushed off from the table to make it available for the next mech in line and made his way out of the Med Bay. He was pleased to note the number of injured Autobots had dropped some since he’d been taken in for repairs and the knowledge that others, possibly those with more grievous injuries than his own had to wait.

Feeling his jubilation fade he didn’t let his agitation show until he was outside in the corridor that ran the length of the deck. He knew First Aid wouldn’t have lied to him but wasn’t the mark of a good leader being the last to accept medical attention? Wasn’t that what Optimus always did? Thinking of their fallen leader didn’t help his mood out any, but he was alive and needed to continue on. There’d be time to feel sorry for himself at a later time.

Mess Hall

Upon entering the Mess Hall, Silverbolt’s optics scanned the large space for any sign of his team, Slingshot in particular. He’d given the order for Slingshot to stand down more to cool off the hot headed youngster and to give himself a break from hearing his arrogant proclamations.

Silverbolt wasn’t jealous of his subordinate’s ability, well maybe a little, but he weighed it against the knowledge that like him Slingshot held onto something. Silverbolt felt he was one of the best at noticing such things considering his own history and the debilitating effects it often had on him. He compensated by remaining steady, but what about Slingshot?

He shook his head while heading to an energon distribution port for his replenishment. At least this he could do without crashing into the Earth. Once he was finished he planned on heading to the bridge to report to the duty officer. He needed something to do to keep his processor occupied.

Hanger

Jazz stepped back inside the hanger trailing behind Prowl. He couldn't believe what he heard, the Dinobots were going to get away with this treachery! They had to put it all in the down-low for the time being. But what ate him up most was the simple unknown of what the Dinobots were going to do with the 19 and the unprepared Autobots that could be signaled. If any casualties were called in...

"Prowl. I have to express my, eh, discomfort in lying to my friends. They know us and we know them! They're like family to us, man, and I don't love lying to my family. I don't love it one bit," Jazz began, but lowered his voice, "I also need to let you know something: When I figured out that the Dinobots were taking the 19 out for an illegal spin, I tried to sabotage the engine by melting a plasma manifold. Unfortunately they managed to knock me out before then. But it would have been an easy fix, there were replacement parts on the ground in front of the engine anyway. Well, an easy fix for an intelligent 'bot; not a Dinobot."

Jazz turned to Streetwise when he heard the Protectobot apologize for the hassle and treating him like a prisoner.

"It's alright, man. I would have done the same thing if I caught wind of saboteurs." Jazz said with a slight smile before turning back to Prowl, waiting for an answer.

Guardian Bridge

Bumblebee had become just as restless as Nova, and when the ranger suggested they head to the bridge to see if there was anything they could help with, Bee readily agreed. The two mech’s arrived quickly as the corridors leading up to the bridge were void of anyone and any activity.

As the doors slid apart and revealed the pristine space that was the ships forward section, Bee gave a quick smile to the duty officer and quickly followed Nova Strike. At his mention of the obvious absence of Prowl, and any of the other Commanders, Bumblebee had to agree. The place was only occupied by a few mechs.

Bee let out a sigh as he took up a position at one of the many vacant terminals and entered his security codes. The screen quickly came to life with scanning results and ship's readings, all of which Bee was familiar.

The miniscule ‘Bot looked to his left when he noticed the subtle variations in illumination coming off of Nova’s terminal. Curiosity set in and Bee stood up from his position; he was about to step toward the ranger when Nova swore. The minibot quickened his pace and came to stand just behind Nova’s shoulder. At the ranger’s request Bee leaned down and took a long look at the signal that had scrolled onto the screen.

“Wow. That’s interesting. It’s pretty old code. Actually it's a defunct set of codes. Whoever sent this doesn’t want it deciphered by just anyone.”

Bee flashed Nova Strike a wide grin before he looked back to the screen.

“Fortunately, I’m not just anyone.”

Medical Bay

First Aid arrived at the med bay before Hoist and his over the shoulder passenger. The doctor moved to an available medical slab and prepared it for his new patient. He then moved to one of the storage cabinets and gathered up a variety of tools and scanners. He needed to be sure Ironfist was fully functional both physically and mentally.

As soon as he was set up, First Aid waited for the arrival of Hoist and the weapon’s engineer. Hopefully Ironfist would only be in the bay for a short time.
____

Ratchet wasted no time in getting the new duty roster completed. It would have to be First Aid, Dustspark and him to take on all of the duties within the medical bay. Normally Ratchet would be stuck in his office working on patient records and other obligations. But with Axle laid up for the time being, it stood to reason that he would have to fill in when needed. He didn’t mind as long as his subordinate rested and recovered, Ratchet would welcome the opportunity to help out.

With the roster completed Ratchet placed the data pad down on the empty tool tray next to Axle’s medical berth. The CMO leaned down deeply into his chair, offlined his optics and crossed his arms over his chest. The past several cycles had been tiring mentally more than anything else.

Just having the opportunity to sit and let everything slip was therapeutic. As he waited for Prowl to arrive he’d have to stave off a well-deserved recharge. What I wouldn’t give for another medic. Fixit, Pharma, hell I’d even settle for Ambulon.

Hangar Bay

Hot Spot nodded at Prowl. “I understand sir, and if I were in a similar position I might make the same choice. I just wanted my discomfort to be made official with you. Rest assured that my team and I will obey your orders. You don’t have to fear us disobeying orders.” He offered a slight smile at the last bit, a mild joke about what the Dinobots had done.

The Protectobot leader then offered a brief nod to both Prowl and Kup before turning to face Streetwise and Blades. “I think we could all use a bit of a respite. Go get recharged and get any minor injuries you have checked out. I’m sure things won’t stay quiet for long so enjoy it while you can.” It was an unusual set of orders for Hot Spot to give, as he was usually the most gung-ho Autobot around. Recent events had troubled him so much that even he needed some time to think things over. A full recharge would do him some good as well. Once he was through dismissing the other two Protectobots he left the hangar to be alone with his thoughts.

*

Kup looked over at Prowl as he addressed him. He chewed on his cy-gar for a moment before replying. “We’d better get back to the bridge lad. We can walk and talk. I might be getting old but I can still do those two things at the same time.” He clapped the other Autobot on the back as he steered him out of the room. The Autobot wasn’t exactly anxious to say what he was thinking, especially in front of an audience. Still, he didn’t want the other Autobots to think there was some sort of split between him and Prowl. Hopefully no one was paying much attention and if they were it would just be written off as one of his typical old timer quirks.

Corridors

Once they were out of the Hangar and away from prying audio receptors Kup spoke up. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of the others. I don’t want them to think I’m disagreeing with anything you did back there, and I don’t. Letting everyone know what really happened there would certainly raise a ruckus, lots of upset Autobots and maybe even some who want to join Grimlock and his gang. We can’t afford and split front now, not with the Cons up to something.”

Kup paused for a moment to consider his words. “The problem is lad that secrets, lies, they all eventually get exposed. When these eventually get out it’s going to cause trouble and I just want to make sure you’re prepared for that. I don’t want to see you falling on your sword later either, taking all the blame to keep Magnus or other Autobots clean. He might not have any say in this choice yet, but I do, and I’m not gonna let you take a beating for it.”

The old timer was silent for a moment again, a new thought occurring to him. “Another problem I just thought of is your cover story completely legitimizes Grimlock’s actions. You can’t exactly go arresting him if he did nothing wrong. Even if you did anyway its not like Grimlock will go quietly to a cell somewhere. When he comes back, and I’d bet you some high grade energon he will, he’s gonna use that against us. At the very least he’s gonna be even more insufferable.”

Med Bay

Warpath was growing impatient at all the talking between Rodimus and the other bots. He had mentioned getting a drink breems ago, why were they still waiting? Just then the warrior heard a familiar voice- even better, a familiar voice that for once was slow enough for him to understand perfectly. Warpath let go of Groove and turned around.

"WHAM! It's been a while Blurr!", Warpath gladly replied, giving the courier a friendly pat on the back, "Yeah we were all headin' to the POW mess hall, but the others have gotten kinda distracted."

It was then that the warrior noticed even more bots coming in. It was going to get crowded soon, and Warpath didn't see any reason to continue waiting around.

"You got a BLAM good point though, Blurr, buddy. How about you and me BANG head to the mess hall right now, the others will be here when they can. A friend of mine promised to BOOM get some real energon from the Ark-19, and my circuits are just shorting out to get a taste!"

---------


Groove was quite relieved when Warpath finally let go. As friendly as he may have been, it was an uncomfortable position for the scout. For a moment a smile formed on his face as he noticed his best friend First Aid walking back in. That smile quickly disappeared when he saw casualties coming in behind him.

"Maybe it's about time we all left, Rodimus.", the scout politely suggested, "Unfortunately it looks like it's going to get crowded in here."


------------


"Well we're here, Ironfist.", Hoist told his passenger as he walked in behind First Aid, "I won't charge you the towing fee this time, but next time you'd better be ready to pay.... Ha ha, just kidding, of course."

Carefully the mechanic placed Ironfist off his shoulder and onto the medical slab as the medic got his equipment ready. Once the patient was lying on his back, Hoist made a few adjustments to Ironfist to keep his arms and legs from dangling off the edge of the table.

"Unfortunately my scanner was damaged earlier, otherwise I could have saved you some time with my own readings.", Hoist said somewhat apologetically, "But otherwise I'll be more than happy to help however I can."

Medical Bay

With Rodimus trying to speak with a few of the other potential followers, Warpath had mentioned, once more, that he wished to move on to the mess hall. If he had been able, Rodimus would have eviscerated the annoying tank-former then and there, but he had to save face. When the time came he would find his final two heralds.

He took a look over at Warpath and let the red mech leave for the mess hall. After watching him go Rodimus took a glance in Groove’s direction and flashed him a smile.

“You’re right, Groove. Let’s head out. I don’t want to impede on any of the medics' work.”

The tall fire covered mech moved on and made his way out of the med bay and into the corridor. He was more interested in finding the mechs he would need to bring about the new revolution. Once he finally took possession of his heralds he could begin the entire process. Soon. Soon, master, you will be free..

The thought of his work coming to fruition brought a smile to Rodimus’ face. However, it quickly faded as he led the way to the small group’s destination.

----

First Aid had just finished setting up his tools and scanners when Hoist moved to the slab and gingerly placed Ironfist down onto its surface. The mechanic then went that extra mile by making sure the weapon’s specialist was properly situated on the slab’s smooth surface. First Aid smiled under his face plate, but it was very noticeable by just looking at the doctor’s optics.

He looked back to Hoist when the green mech mentioned that he could have saved him trouble if only he had working scanner.

“Don’t you worry about that Hoist. You’ve already been of great help, as always. As far as needing assistance I’d be glad to have it, but you should also think about having that scanner looked at. I’m sure Ratchet’s free, perhaps he can have a look and then do a preliminary scan of all your systems.”

The Protectobot began his work on Ironfist and at the same time he addressed Hoist once more.

“But before you head off to see Ratchet I’d like you to place your hand right here…”

Med Bay

The courier’s grin widened as Warpath patted him on the back. He listened to Warpath, getting excited at the mention of real energon. It had been ages since he had last sampled real energon and not the synthetic stuff that they had been using as its substitute. “Realenergon? YoubetI’min!” Blurr said enthusiastically, just barely understandable.

The courier turned to walk out of the Med Bay with the warrior and noticed the injured moving into the bay. Worried though he was, the only thing to do would be to clear out and give the medics their room. Blurr looked at Warpath still moving toward the exit, and kept his words at an understandable speed. “What’s been happening around here anyway?”

-----------

Hangar Bay

Streetwise grinned as Jazz accepted his apology, feeling a bit a relief. If there was one thing the interceptor didn’t like, it was tension. Prowl’s decision was bound to cause a lot of tension, however necessary it might be. He turned his attention back to Hot Spot to wait for further orders. He was assuring Prowl that the Protectobots would obey orders.

The interceptor thought back to First Aid’s initial reaction and hoped it would be so. He doubted that First Aid would stir up trouble. Once Hot Spot had finished reassuring Prowl, he had turned to Streetwise and Blades. The interceptor was ready for anything their leader had in mind.

“I think we could all use a bit of a respite. Go get recharged and get any minor injuries you have checked out. I’m sure things won’t stay quiet for long so enjoy it while you can,” Hot Spot said.

“You got it, boss bot! Wait. What?” It took the interceptor an astrosecond or two to process the orders again. He hastily added, “I mean—yes sir, boss.” Streetwise hadn’t really been expecting some down time and had been taken by surprise. The Protectobot leader was one of the more proactive Autobots. Hot Spot probably had his reasons, though that didn’t stop Streetwise from being slightly disappointed. He had wanted to do something. Talking was all good and well, but sometimes you just needed some action.

Streetwise walked over to Blades and clapped him on the shoulder companionably. “Want to get recharged and then head down to the training room, Blades?”

Hangar Bay

Prowl relaxed a bit as Hot Spot seemed to accept the order that was given to him even with some reluctance still in his voice. The Protectobot Commander assured the military strategist that his directive would be obeyed not just by him but by the rest of his speciality unit, as well. “I’m glad to hear that, Hot Spot. Thank you,” Prowl responded plainly as his attention was then drawn towards Jazz, who was now also expressing his discomfort at having to lie.

“Well, Jazz, as I’ve said I’m not comfortable giving the order, either, but it is necessary. This is a war and you should know as well as I do that sometimes you have to do things that are difficult in order to preserve the greater good. As for trying to sabotage the Ark-19, it was a valiant effort if not a futile one, I’m afraid. Now, go get patched up, old friend. I may need your talents in the coming cycles.”

Prowl finally returned his gaze to Kup who wanted to talk with him while they made their way back to the bridge. The black and white understood that the old timer preferred to give him his opinion on the situation in private and not in front of an audience where any dissent would be viewed as a fracture between the two. “Alright, Kup, lead the way,” Prowl said as he followed the old warhorse out of the hangar and into the corridor beyond.

Corridors

Once they were far enough away from the hangar, Kup wasted no time in speaking his mind. He seemed to agree with Prowl on the decision to cover things up and for the reasons that the black and white had already laid out. However, the old timer was also very concerned about the ramifications when the truth was ultimately discovered as a secret such as this one would only stay hidden for so long. Prowl couldn’t really argue with Kup’s reasoning as it was sound and logical, a nice departure from some of the illogical things the interim leader normally heard from other mechs.

“I understand your concerns, Kup. It’s a precarious path that I’m walking here, I know. And I’m sure you’re right. The truth will eventually come out, especially with Red Alert in the next ship over. Hopefully, by the time that happens we’ll have a more permanent leader in place that can keep things calm,” Prowl said before he paused to consider Kup’s insistence that he not take all the blame unto himself. The strategist couldn’t help but let out a slight chuckle at the old timer’s fatherly comment.

“Others can blame me all they want, I don’t care. I’m just trying to do what I feel is right whether they agree with me or not, and I’m prepared to defend the logic behind my decision if anyone confronts me. I do appreciate you not wanting me to fall on my sword as you put it, but I can handle the burden if need be. I’ve done it before. Besides, I’m not well liked anyway, so that makes me the logical choice to take the blame.”

Prowl then listened as Kup made another good point regarding how the cover-up story basically legitimized Grimlock’s actions and thus will make it difficult, if not impossible, to arrest him when the Dinobot Commander does finally return. “True, arresting Grimlock won’t be an option, especially if he brings back an upgraded ship and new tech to fight the ‘Cons with. He’ll be viewed by many as a hero of sorts for taking action even if it was against orders. No, Grimlock will have to be dealt with in a different way. Determining exactly how will be the hard part.”

As Prowl and Kup came to intersecting corridors, the black and white placed his hand on the old timer’s shoulder and smiled. “Don’t worry about me, Kup, I’ll be fine. Everything will work itself out in time. Now, why don’t you head on up to the bridge without me. I need to stop by the med bay to get a quick briefing from Ratchet and then I’ll be right up after you. Okay?”

After a good pat on Kup’s shoulder plates, Prowl turned and took the left corridor that led to the med bay where a grumpy Ratchet would surely be waiting for him.

Corridor outside Medical Bay

Howlstrike followed Rodimus and the others into the corridor as they began their trek down to the mess hall where the self-proclaimed Prime would make his case for leadership. The ex-Predacon was actually very interested to hear what the mech formerly known as Hot Rod had to say. Would he mention how a dead Optimus supposedly spoke to him back on Cybertron as the Matrix transformed his body into the larger, more mature version of himself? Would he promise again to bring a swift end to the Decepticons and thus the war? Would he actually reveal a plan of attack that had a real chance of working?

All of these were strong possibilities as some ‘Bots were looking for a little faith right now while others craved action against the enemy before it was too late. Revealing that Rodimus was apparently the chosen one would bring in the faithful while a decisive battle strategy would draw in those who wanted to fight and even have their revenge. At the end of the cycle, all Howlstrike wanted to hear were the details, every last one. He didn’t really care what those details consisted of. The hunter just wanted to know Rodimus’ game plan so that Kup and the others would know it, as well.

Medical Bay

As Hardhead waited for a response from Sprints, he noticed that Rodimus and the other assembled mechs had already left the med bay, presumably for the mess hall where they had previously discussed gathering in order to hear the former cavalier speak. The green warrior turned back and looked down at the smaller Autobot with a friendly smile. “When you make up your processor, Sprints, we will all be down in the mess hall. Feel free to join us there.”

Hardhead then turned his optics towards Hex again, who was being surprisingly patient in waiting to hear whatever Rodimus had to say. The young mech wanted revenge, plain and simple, but he would not hang around forever to learn how retribution would be achieved. Eventually, the silver Autobot would give up on following anyone else and simply go after it, himself. “My apologies for the delay, Hex. I hope you are still willing to listen to what Rodimus has to say. He can promise you the vengeance that you seek and so much more.”

With those words spoken, Hardhead motioned for Hex to join them before the green warrior made his way out into the corridor, following behind Rodimus and the others.
_________

A short time later, Prowl entered the medical facility and quickly made his way past the injured occupants from the escape pod and over to where Ratchet was now seated next to Axle’s med berth. The CMO’s optics were off-lined in an apparent attempt to get a quick recharge in while he had some spare time. The military strategist cleared his vocalizer in an attempt to gain the white mech’s undivided attention.

“Okay, Ratchet, I’m here now for your briefing,” Prowl said as he crossed his arms over his chestplate. “I’m most interested in hearing about any tests that you were able to administer to Hot Rod. I had ordered him to get checked out down here due to the recent and unexplained change in his physical appearance, not to mention his rather questionable mental state. I don’t see him around. Were those tests conducted and if so what were the results?”

Infirmary

Ironfist allowed his servos to relax as his body was carefully laid upon the surgical bed. His optics flickered briefly before accepting the tender mercies of an automatic energon transfer field. He turned his head briefly to offer a securing nod to Hoist and First Aid as they proceeded their diagnostic work.

From the fragments of his memory, he could at least compare the damage or missing memory engrams to the presence of hard radiation. And spending nearly three days or so in the belly of what had once been the pit filled with fission radiation, well Ironfist counted himself among the lucky that he still function as well as he had.

Deciding it best to conserve his already strained energon reserves, Ironfist deactivated his self repair protocols and held them in suspension. His optics regained a bit more color as the previously diverted energy was returned to his over all supply. "Don't mean to tell you how to do your job Doc. But can either of you at least provide me with the latest Weapons Schematics Journal from Tiberon V?..." He looked slowly at the tow truck and the doctor. "You know, for technical reading."

Bridge

Nova Strike rubbed his chin briefly as the codes scrolled across the screen. While he was no code breaker, not even by a long shot, he could tell this particular stream of data was fresh and yet beyond old. But over all it meant little to him and he remained silent as the now ranking officer on the sensor systems went to work decoding the mix of numbers, numerical symbols and even the occasional out of place phrase.

"If this is a discontinued code, why in the scrap would anyone bother using it. Undoubtedly the Decepticons have already broken it." Nova stepped back from the station to allow the already dim light to grace Bumblebee as he went to work deciphering the codes.

His fingers curled along the railing as the shift officer peered over his broad tractor tread like shoulders and glowered down upon the two new comers. Nova Strike's optics were floating back and forth from the data feed on Bumblebee's confiscated screen and the forward tactical monitors showing green lights across the board. It didn't feel right, it was too quiet, and judging by the continuous glare from the duty officer, he agreed with Nova Strike's silent assessment.

"I suppose the question is, who in their right processor would even dredge up such a relic." As the last words crossed his vocalizer, the forward proximity alert went from green to red.

The duty officer's attention snapped from Bumblebee's station straight to the forward view screen. Nova Strike jumped into the auxiliary tactical station next to Bumblebee's and entered his security codes to bring the station up to primary status.

Nova Strike toggled several keys on the shallow holographic board and brought up several port side tactical sensors. The signal was feint... no bigger than a small comet. But the Ranger wasn't going to charge it off so easily, that piece of space debris was coming in hot. "We got heavy ECM and scattering fields. Its a miracle that the sensors even caught this thing."

He pressed a few keys and brought up the weaponry display. It was still to far for visual confirmation, and the Electronic Jamming the object was giving off simply prevented a viable sensor scan and identification. "Got it. At least I think I got it. Too far out, but coming in hot and fast. Bumblebee, this the source of that transmission?"

Medical Bay – Surgical Suite

For the past few cycles Ratchet had spent all of his time reclining in a chair beside the surgical slab that Axle was still occupying. He had completed the necessary repairs and remained to be sure his subordinate would not slip and take a turn for the worse.

His optics were offline his head lowered nearly down to his chest and his arms crossed just below his chin. He needed a good recharge but the CMO refused to move until Axle’s repair systems had taken over all of the field medic’s restoration. Ratchet may have looked as though he were in a deep recharge, but he was actually well aware of everything that was happing within his med bay and when Prowl finally arrived, Ratchet remained still.

The CMO listened to the tactician but never moved. Once Prowl had finally concluded with his list of questions, Ratchet turned his head up, onlined his optics and simply stared at the black and white. He watched Prowl intently before he finally spoke.

“First of all, Axle’s going to be fine, I’m ecstatic that you’ve inquired.”

Ratchet’s calm tone deteriorated almost as quickly as it arrived yet he remained seated.

“And to continue, no I was not able to run any tests on Hot Rod, because, if you hadn’t seen I was inundated with a med bay full of wounded that required my and First Aid’s entire attention, not to mention the surgery I had to perform to repair the GAPING HOLE THROUGH AXLE’S CHEST!”

Ratchet’s outburst was quickly followed up by the CMO rising from his chair tossing it out from under his feet and stalking up to the acting commander, a deep set sneer set firmly in place on his face.

“I’m shorthanded, Prowl, I don’t have time to run some analysis that may or may not prove that someone we’ve known for vorns is who he says he is.”

The medic stepped in further into Prowl’s personal space as he continued on with his brief.

“Let it go. We have more important things to worry about now than one of our comrades being someone they aren’t. It’s Hot Rod. I can see that and so can you. Yes, he looks different and he’s made some strange claims, but he’s still one of us.”

He backed away and turned. He stopped in front of the over turned chair and carefully lifted it back up and placed it against the wall. Ratchet lowered himself down and leaned back crossing his arms over his chest.

“If running a battery of useless tests is something you simply can’t live without then send him in here.”

Ratchet let out a low sigh as he lowered his chin and offlined his optics. He continued to remain fully aware.

“Now if we’re finished…then I suggest you get the hell out of my medical bay…sir.”
____

After his distraction, Hardhead turn to face Hex apologizing he delay in heading to the mess hall. The young mech gave the green warrior a shrug and a shake of the head.

“Yeah, well, I got nothin’ else to do.”

His head tilted slightly to one side as he considered the rest of Hardhead’s statement. He wanted to listen to everything the tall flame covered mech had to say. It was almost a need…no, it was a need. He needed to hear everything.

“I’m real interested in what he has to say, especially if he has ideas on how I can get back at those slaggers for what they did to Axle.”

When the larger warrior motioned for him to follow along, Hex did not hesitate. Although he was curious about something.

“This Rodimus. You known him long? I mean, I never met him before but feels as though I’ve known him all my life, and that ain’t long at all.”

Heading to the Mess Hall

Rodimus moved along slowly so that the rest of his entourage could catch up. He wanted nothing more than to have everyone present when he spoke of how this faction could move on and still remain in the footsteps of Optimus Prime. That thought whirled around his processor for a considerable amount of time.

Such fodder. These fools will grasp hold of any promise offered up as long as it contains bloodshed and carnage. I can give them just that, only they will be the ones shedding any kind of blood. They will be the ones offered up to the Master. I and my heralds will be sure of that.

During their walk through the ship, Rodimus took a quick look over at his company. The former Predacon was quiet, but it was already known what he was thinking.

I must leave this vessel. There are two others waiting my arrival.

“As the humans say, ‘penny for your thoughts’? You’re quiet, Howstrike. Are you still contemplating on just how to get information from me and delivering it back to Kup?”

Rodimus looked over at Howlstrike as they continued through the hallways. There was a knowing smirk on the self-proclaimed Prime face before he turned his gaze back ahead in proceeded on.

Medical Bay

With all of his tools and equipment finally at his fingers, First Aid set to work getting all of his preliminary work completed before he set in and began any repairs. He was just finishing up his final scan when Ironfist made a strange request. Unfortunately, with his faceplate in place the smirk went completely unnoticed.

“I’m sorry, Ironfist, but there’s nothing onboard that I can offer you in order to pass the time. If you’d like I could sedate you, but your repairs certainly do not call for it.”

First Aid’s optics brightened in amusement before he went back to work.

Bridge

Bumblebee remained fixated on the terminal that he was positioned in front of. The encoded message stayed steady on screen while the yellow mech read through it not once but twice. He didn’t notice the movement of the duty officer or Nova Strike to the main view screen. Bumblebee vaguely heard anything Nova was saying. His focus remained on the message.

“I know who it is!”

Bumblebee’s head finally snapped up and found Nova Strike just in time catch his last question.

“Yes! Yes it is! That message, it’s for Prowl!”

As fast as it left his lips the miniscule spy opened a comm channel with the tactician.

>>”Prowl,we received an incoming coded message. The encryption codes were ancient which makes me believe that you knew about it. Sir, why did you call in Ultra Magnus?”<<

Medical Bay - Surgical Suite

Prowl was a bit taken aback by Ratchet’s rather violent outburst, overthrowing the chair he had been sitting in before getting into the acting commander’s faceplate. The CMO was clearly upset that the military strategist had not asked about Axle’s condition, which then lead to Ratchet letting out his pent up anger and frustrations at the black and white. Everything from being short-staffed to not having time to run some mundane tests on Hot Rod all came pouring out of the emotionally charged CMO. It was at times like these that Prowl was thankful he acted more on logic than emotions.

“My apologies, Ratchet,” Prowl began to respond as the CMO finally started to calm down and once again took his seat. “I did not mean to appear insensitive to Axle’s condition. I simply assumed he was in good hands and thus would be all right. As for Hot Rod, perhaps you are right. I just don’t like unanswered questions, that’s all. The tests won’t be necessary as you clearly have more important things to do here. Therefore, I’ll leave you to it.”

Prowl then turned and stepped out of the surgical suite, making his way for the door. While he would still have liked the tests to be performed on Hot Rod, the black and white also understood that Ratchet appeared far too busy and upset to properly administer them. The CMO would likely not find anything wrong with Rodimus, anyway, which would only confound Prowl’s logic center even further. Of course, it didn’t really matter now. No one in their right processor would follow Hot Rod. He was a reckless cavalier that once had a hole blown through him by Megatron, himself. He was obviously not leadership material.

As Prowl stepped into the corridor, he received Bumblebee’s message from the bridge. The strategist quickly opened a comm line back to the minibot:

>>”Understood, Bumblebee. I’m on my way. I will explain things further in due time.”<<

Heading to the Mess Hall

As Hardhead followed Rodimus towards the mess hall, he listened to Hex’s response and was pleased that the young mech was still willing to come along. They needed all the support they could muster even if it came from an unstable youth such as Hex. Still, he was young and thus not a lost cause by any means. Perhaps all the silver ‘Bot needed was a little guidance in the right direction. If anyone could succeed with Hex it would be Rodimus. Even the green warrior’s own experiences and supervision might help steer Hex’s tendency for lashing out into something more controlled that would ultimately strike fear into the Decepticons.

“I’m glad you still want to listen, Hex,” Hardhead said as he continued to walk the corridors, the young mech at his side. “And you won’t just be able to get back at those that hurt Axle, but at all of them!” The war veteran then chuckled slightly at Hex’s question regarding Rodimus. Like so many others recently, the silver mech thought he recognized him but just couldn’t put an actuator on who the flame-covered mech had once been. “We’ve all known Rodimus for a long time, my friend. He used to be called Hot Rod until something extraordinary happened to him and he grew not only in size and strength but in maturity, as well. Now, he will lead us to a final victory over the Decepticons once and for all!”
_________

Howlstrike’s optics widened slightly when Rodimus asked him if his silence was an indicator that the ex-Predacon was still considering how to get information out of the former cavalier and relay it back to Kup. Howl did not respond immediately as he was quite surprised at the flame-covered mech’s apparent mind reading ability. How the slag did he know what I was thinking? He couldn’t have known. Someone told him, but I never said anything to anyone. Was it just a lucky guess? Perhaps his intuition was heightened along with the rest of him. I must be more careful if I am to learn anything of value here.

“And what information do I have to get from you, Rodimus?” Howlstrike finally responded, looking over at the self-proclaimed Prime at his side. “I thought you were the chosen one who would unite the Autobots and lead us all to victory over the Decepticons. If that’s the case, then your motives are genuine and there’s nothing for you to hide from anyone. Thus I have nothing to report back to Kup. Isn’t that right?”

The Autobot hunter curled one side of his mouth up, exposing fanged teeth underneath. Howl had always been suspicious of Rodimus ever since the former cavalier had stepped out of that CR chamber back on Cybertron and proclaimed himself to be the new Prime. That feeling had not changed, especially now as Rodimus attempted to rally supporters to his cause. He seemed more like a cult leader than an Autobot one. It reminded the ex-Predacon of how Megatron had once recruited allies for the Decepticon movement so long ago and that eventually led to the current war which has seen countless casualties on both sides. Another divide would only cause even more death and destruction. It would something that needed to be avoided for everyone's sake.

“I said I would hear you out, Rodimus,” Howlstrike continued as they neared the mess hall. “And I meant it. Convince me that your way in the correct way and that will be what I tell Kup when I see him next.”

Bridge

Prowl hurried through the corridors of the frigate and arrived on the bridge to find Bumblebee and Nova Strike attempting to decipher the command-level encryption code that Ultra Magnus was using to contact the Guardian. The military strategist approached the minibot and peered over his shoulder at the read out on the terminal's display screen. It was the City Commander, all right, and he was using Calimar, an ancient code that very few had the ability to break, the black and white being one of them.

“Excuse me, Bumblebee,” Prowl said and he reached down and entered the appropriate keywords on the console, thus unlocking the encryption and allowing the strategist to hear the message intended for him. The words of Ultra Magnus came in loud and clear over the speakers, requesting authorization to approach and docking procedures. The black and white smiled before opening another Calimar-encrypted comm line back to the City Commander.

>>”Ultra Magnus, this is Prowl. Message received. You are cleared for approach and docking in the main hangar bay. It’s good to have you here. We have much to discuss, old friend.”<<