The Energon Pub

Bridge

Kup had taken his time getting to the bridge, not feeling any big need to rush. The walk also gave him some time to sort out his thoughts. The old-timer still wasn’t fond of the idea of lying to other Bots and having them lie for him. Even if it was necessary it was the sort of thing that always came back to sting you. They would just have to hope that the benefits of keeping it a secret outweighed whatever negative reaction they were going to get down the line.

Apparently his thoughts had slowed him down more then he expected as he entered the bridge barely ahead of a jogging Prowl. He quickly sidestepped out of the other Bot’s path as he made a beeline towards a terminal that Bumblebee and Nova Strike were working at. Kup peered at the screen to see some code sprawled out across it. He frowned as he saw it.

“Calimar? Haven’t seen that encryption in a long time. I’m guessing that means he’s hear then huh?” he asked Prowl.

Long Range Shuttle Longevity - Bridge

Dice busied himself with running the standard tactical sweeps of the sector, his right hand practically wielded to the yolk of the vessel as he did so. It was not the first time he had been tasked with the enviable duty to transport high profile commanders from one edge of the galaxy to the other, and it probably would not be his last. Each time he had found that their mission had some how been altered to the point where his ship dropped into the middle of a hot combat zone. To his relief this had not transpired as the last assignment he had been given.

"Any response from our hails Dice?" The pilot winced briefly as he was snapped back from a rather bitter memory regarding a recent trip to the Verdun System. He did not break his visual contact with the tactical controls ahead of his display.

"No, Commander Magnus. We have not received confirmation of our hail. Perhaps our communique codes are unrecognizable by the current bridge staff?"

"Likely." Ultra Magnus leaned back in the command chair and allowed his arms to rest on the braces along the edge of the large bench. His fingers were splayed across the edges of the rests tapping away at the seconds as they passed by. "Its not very likely a general communications officer will recognize those codes. It is why I selected their use." His fingers stopped their tapping as the forward screens flickered then went into combat red.

Dice's optics narrowed on the tactical readout and allowed a small gasp of surprise to escape his vocorder. "Sir, their sensors have painted us. Weapons are being moved into position."

Magnus remained calm and watched the forward screen. "Maintain present course and speed. Record failure of ECMs for review by fleet research and development as soon as convenient."

"Yes Sir. But I request permission to begin evasive maneuvers." Dice's voice betrayed a slight hint of unease. Flying head long into friendly guns was not exactly how he had anticipated this adventure to go.

"Maintain course."

Dice's optics narrowed again at the tactical readouts. Power was being transferred to the two guns that had painted the smaller combat transport craft. While the Longevity was designed for battle, against primary deck guns of a larger warship, well Dice didn't want to think of the consequences. "This is punishment for me bringing along my collection of signed Optimus Cards isn't it?" he muttered to himself as he did as he was ordered to. Seconds ticked and the killing shot remained loaded in the barrels of the two guns. Slowly the Longevity approached the Frigate Guardian, if knuckle joints could have turned colors, Dice would have been the proud wearer of a pair of crimson and white.

Guardian - Bridge

"You know who it is?" Nova Strike's fingers hovered over the trigger consoles. He had already transmitted the firing solution to the deck officer. All the ranger required the word to be given in order to light these intruders and remove them from the barren wastelands of the universe. One less Decepticon ship to worry about.

Still even he figured that receiving codes, even expired codes that were never truly broken by the other side but had never the less fallen out of circulation, had stroked a flame of caution within Nova. If it was the source of the transmission and if it was indeed an Autobot vessel trying to avoid drawing attention to its approach. A shudder of the potential harm raced up and down Nova Strike's back struts.

"The source is that shuttle?" He nodded as Bumblebee confirmed the news with a flurry of action. That was all he needed. Nova Strike passed the details to the deck officer via internal communique and relaxed his grip on the gun controls. Immediately the large doors at the back of the bridge hissed open to allow access to Prowl and Kup.

Prowl immediately activated a coded frequency and sent a secured transmission to the incoming shuttle craft. Nova Strike sighed in resignation, not because of a building lust to end this infernal boredom, but more because once again the boredom was to wash over his presence. Nova powered down the tactical console and allowed his optics to drift over to Kup with a cocked optical cover. "Who's here?" He asked with a calm and professional tone.

Long Range Shuttle Longevity - Bridge

"Weapons are powering down Commander. We are receiving coded clearance and instructions to main docking port."

Ultra Magnus inwardly released a sigh of appreciation. At least the idea of announcing their arrival through such less than dramatic means had not gone exactly as he had hoped. But at least it had not ended in disaster. "Good, proceed at flanking speed Dice."

The smaller pilot released his death grip on the yolk and appeared to wipe a bead of lubricant from his forehead. Magnus suppressed a smile, not every day one faced the prospect of joining the All Spark with the assistance of one's peers. Not wasting time to bring the pilot down from a battle readiness, knowing he was a professional at his chosen function. As the pilot busied himself with the final docking procedures, Ultra Magnus pushed himself from the command chair. "Dice, soon as docking is complete, join Squilliam down in Cargo Hold 1. I want those medical supplies unloaded to the Guardian immediately before any other cargo is carted off."

"Understand commander."

Ultra Magnus departed the bridge and made his way down the narrow hall way and down the small lift to the secondary deck that separated two cargo holds on either side. He side stepped the small engineer staff that had been tasked to monitor and even modify some of the equipment they had been hauling to the Sol System front. The City Commander approached the forward air lock and waited for the lights to go from red to green to orange indicating the magnetic locks were secure.

A few moments later...

Autobot Frigate Guardian - Docking Port

Ultra Magnus stood tall in the polished confines of the frigate that had been assigned to the command of Hotspot. The City Commander slowly stepped over to one of the monitors and placed his hand along its edge. Clean and well kept, as he would expect from a team that prided itself on absolute professionalism. Definitely a good sign. Even still Magnus was not smiling. He did not want to be present on this ship, at least not at this time and decidedly not under these circumstances.

The doors split down the seam in the center with a silent pull of hidden hydraulic pistons embedded in the door frames. With each micron they slowly peeled back, the vision of the welcoming party began to come into resolution. Magnus pivoted on his heel, leaving his hand on one of the last surfaces that his brother had ever seen in his final days.

"Permission to come aboard."

Med-Bay

Hoist placed his hand where First Aid asked, as the machines finished their scans of Ironfist's systems. Now that he didn't have to concentrate on carrying the weapon's expert, he was starting to notice a light headache, a reminder of his recent encounter with the Dinobots. It's wasn't particularly painful, but it was somewhat noticable. Once the scans were completed Ironfist made a request for some "light" reading to pass the time. Hoist chuckled a little in amusement.

"I can't say I blame you, Ironfist.", Hoist tried to comfort the weapons expert, putting his hand gently on Ironfist's shoulder,"Knowing our luck the schematics were probably on one of the datapads we left on the Ark-19."

As First Aid went to work, Hoist could see that he wasn't needed. The medic had everything in hand.

"I suppose I should see Ratchet then.", Hoist said, "I prefer all Autobots be at 100% efficiency, myself included. Take care First Aid, Ironfist."

The maintenance specialist walked out of the infirmary, just as he noticed Prowl walking out of one of the surgical suites. Prowl was already gone before Hoist could say anything to him.

Well, he's certainly in a rush. Though I suppose someone much be in that suite, and it's a good bet that someone is Ratchet.

Hoist entered the surgical suite, and was greeted by the sight of Axle lying on a slab, damaged but for now stable, while Ratchet sat next to him looking as though he were taking a quick recharge.

Not knowing if Ratchet was aware of him or not, Hoist walked up to Axle. He looked over the vital charts, then looked carefully over the damage. Axle had clearly been in critical condition, and in some ways he still was. There was no doubt he was still alive thanks to Ratchet's knowledge and skills.

"You hang in there, Axle.", Hoist whispered, "Primus isn't ready for you yet."

Hoist looked at Ratchet, who was clearly exhausted. It was no wonder considering how much effort he must have put in to keep Axle online, not to mention the added work load it caused. Hoist started to feel some regret for accepting the assignment on the Ark-19 repair team. He wasn't a medic, at least not on the same level as Ratchet or First Aid, but his presence would have helped out a lot.

"I was going to see you about some minor repairs, but from the looks of it you could use some help more than I do.", Hoist kindly said, hoping that Ratchet's was aware of him, "You've clearly worked your servos to a grind to keep him alive. Is there anything i can do to help? Perhaps I could keep an eye on him while you take a proper recharge."

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

Corridor to the Mess Hall

Warpath did his best to keep up with the much faster Blurr- the belief that there was some good energon in the mess hall helped motivate him a little more, but it didn't change the fact that Warpath was no speedster. As they walked, Warpath tried to explain the recent events.

"WHAM, I can't say I know where the recent wounded came from. If there was a battle, BLAM nobody told me.", Warpath recalled, "Now, a little earlier, there were a couple of BANG battles down on Earth that we all needed to get patched up from."

Warpath started to get excited as he thought about the battle. It was a tough one, he took a lot of damage. Yet somehow he overlooked the depression he felt when they had taken out his cannon, instead he felt pride at all the damage he took.

"I tell ya, they KABOOM had to hit me with everything they had! They knew that if they BAM got in my crosshairs,", Warpath thrusted out his cannon to emphasize his point, "BANG, ZOOM, KABLOOEY! They wouldn't last an astrosecond against the best shot this side of Cybertron! They were so scared, they had to bring in ZOWEY, 'Screamer himself to drop a bomb right on top of me! But it didn't do 'em any good because BLAM! I'm still online, and always primed for action!"

As Warpath finished, he realized he had lost track of what Blurr had asked- what was going on.

"Oh, uh yeah, so anyway-", Warpath went back to answering, "Rodimus here, I guess he's a BANG, big version of Hot Rod, or something. He wants to BOING talk to all of us about something. Well, he can WHAM talk all he wants, but I just want a refreshing taste of fuel that doesn't have a dozen chemicals with big words in it. Anyway, BLAM how are you doing, Blurr?"

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

Groove kept quiet as he walked with the others. He sighed as he overheard Hardhead and Hex talk about violent vengeance to the Decepticons. What Motormaster had done to Axle was horrible, but it was no reason to condemn the Decepticons as a whole. Nearby he saw Warpath bragging about the other battle on Earth to Blurr, something the pacifist didn't want to hear much of either.

All the while Groove avoided some of the others, he kept looking to Howlstrike. The Protectobot scout had never met the former Decepticon, and it was highly doubtful that Howlstrike had even heard of Groove. But Groove knew of Howlstrike, and he had wanted to say something to him ever since he saw the hunter in the med bay. Patiently the scout waited as the former Predacon talked with Rodimus- no doubt they had gotten to know each other on their previous assignment on Cybertron. What Groove wanted to say may seem weird to most, including Howlstrike, but the scout felt he had to say it. As there seemed to be a pause in the conversation, Groove picked up his pace and caught up with the ex-Predacon.

"Um, excuse me, Howlstrike", Groove nervously addressed him, "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting your conversation, but uh- I'm Groove, by the way. We've never met before, and you've probably never heard of me, but.... I just want to say that your decision to switch sides to the Autobots..... is an inspiration to me. It gives me hope for peace in the future."

Groove kept pace with the former Predacon, waiting for a reply. He hoped that Howlstrike would find it flattering or honorable, though he knew it was just as likely to turn awkard to say the least.

Hanger

Jazz held his jaw to it's side at Prowl's response. He didn't like that he was going to have to lie to every other Autobot that wasn't in the hanger. It bit like a Sharkticon.

He said nothing back to Prowl and left his silent response hanging in the Air. He walked over to his weapons and picked them back up, then he resumed his trek through the corridors, hoping that he wouldn't run into anyone. The last thing he needed was to come up with some crazy lie about how he got hurt.

Corridors

Jazz walked at a brisk pace, and uncharacteristically not playing any music. He felt betrayed by his friends. He fought with the Dinobots for ages; he grew to like Grimlock as a friend. He didn't think of Grimlock as an enemy.

His mind was being changed very fast.

Jazz walked and walked, breezing by any Autobots that were in the Corridors, even those he recognized. If it were any other time, he would have stopped to talk.

He trekked through the corridors until he arrived at the Med Bay.

Med Bay

Jazz looked around the Med Bay; it was gruesome. He walked over to a CR Chamber and pressed a few keys on the side, then waited for the calibration.

It would be unwise, Jazz decided, to try to help now. He was not in a state that he could make an accurate judgement. After all, he did just get hit over the head.

An idle beep came from the Chamber and Jazz looked at the small screen. It read, "Calibration Complete" as usual. He placed his weapons down and opened the door, then stepped inside. The door closed after him, and his optics along with it.

Medical Bay – Surgical Suite

Damn him and his stoic personality. As Prowl was leaving the surgical area Ratchet onlined his optics, however he kept his head low, chin to chest and watched. The black and white had such a penchant for getting under most of the ‘Bots’ armor, and the worst part, Prowl knew it. As soon as the military strategist did exit Ratchet lifted his head completely, an angry sneer plastered on his face instead of his usual plain old angry expression.

“Slaghead.”

The statement did not come out in a hushed mumble, instead it was spoken out loud, in fact loud enough that ever Prowl himself might have heard it.

Ratchet shook his head slowly as he rose from his seat and turned back to have a look at Axle. Despite all of the chaos the field medic remained in a comfortable recharge. The CMO let out a snort as he took up the task of running a few more rigorous scans.

Once he had finished the ambulance went back to his chair and took up the exact position he had been in when Prowl had arrived. He was still low on energy but that had never stopped him before when one of patients needed round the clock care. Although he did feel rather remorseful for having to put most of the other repair work and minor surgical procedures on First Aid’s shoulders. What I wouldn’t give for Pharma…hell, I’d even settle for Ambulon. That last thought produced a low growl.

“Don’t you fraggin’ leave me here to call in that gearstick. I’d never forgive you.”

Although said seriously, Ratchet meant nothing by it.

With a long low sigh Ratchet returned to his light recharge. It had gotten quiet and he was thankful for the rare serenity. It didn’t last as long as he would have liked. Hoist had entered the suite, a mech who Ratchet had considerable respect for. The mechanic had assisted on more than a few repairs, and as far as the CMO was concerned, his steady hand was always welcome in the medical bay.

Hoist had moved to the surgical slab that Axle was occupying and had looked over the medic’s charts. Ratchet had then looked up when he heard the hushed prayer the mechanic had given.

The large green ‘Bot then addressed the CMO himself.

“It’s alright, Hoist. I’ve gone a lot longer without than I can remember.”

Standing back up from his chair Ratchet placed both hands on his lower back and arched backwards trying to stretch the tight cables embedded in his back supports.

Lowering his arms back down to his sides, Ratchet gave Hoist a small smile followed by a gentle shake of the head.

“No, everything’s under control here. And thanks for the offer, but I’d rather be the one to beat this idiotic grease stain when he wakes up. Now let’s have a look at those injuries.”

Ratchet gestured to one of the free slabs.

Mess hall

As unusual as it was Hex continued to keep his vocalizer shut. The young bot listened intently to everything Hardhead had been saying, but to Hex it was all unnecessary banter. He had already made his decision to follow Rodimus in everything the red and orange mech had planned.

Hex did, however, look over at the olive green warrior when he answered the question he had posed about Rodimus earlier. According to Hardhead this Rodimus character had formally been known as Hot Rod. Hex shook his head at this revelation, he never heard of the guy, which was no surprise since this Hot Rod person was much older than he was.

The next bit of information caused the young mech to slow his pace. So, not only did he have a different name his physical features changed as well. That certainly was incredible. But he was still curious about a few things.

“Sooooo, this Hot Rod guy ran off to Cybertron with Kup and the others, got all changed up, came back and surprised everybody. I get all that crap, but how did he change his physical features? I thought I heard him say something about the Matrix or Prime, were they it?”
_____

Rodimus remained quiet for the rest of the trek to the mess hall. Howlstrike still had plenty of doubts concerning his intentions, and the worlf-former had reason to think that. But in order to change the former Predacon’s mind he would need to resort to other measures.

The self-proclaimed Prime entered the large rood behind most of his followers. He and Howlstrike were the last to arrive. But before they could both make it far Rodimus stopped and gently laid a hand on the Predacon’s chest.

“Howlstrike, you want as much information as you can absorb. Anything I say and do you’ll give to Kup, as you should. Kup needs to know what is happening within this faction. He needs to understand that action must be taken. Both sides have suffered great loses, but standing by and discussing who should lead is not the answer.”

Rodimus kept his hand on the former ‘Con’s chest as he turned slightly to the gathered mechs.

“There needs to be an end to this Primus forsaken war! We must do whatever it takes to preserve our race and return to our own world. We’ve involved too many innocent species; there has to be a point when we finally say stop. But in order to do that we must remove the greatest threat to them and to us.”

He looked back to Howlstrike as he finally removed his hand. And when next he spoke he kept his optics on the former Predacon.

“I can be the one to lead us to this war’s end. I can be the one to end the Decepticons’ tyranny. Chances and respect are earned, and I intend to gain those from all of you by proving that I can do as I preach.”

Rodimus turned fully to face his group of followers, his arms raised to his sides.

“I am proposing that we take the battle to the Decepticons! That we attack them when they least expect it. Now! With Megatron gone their entire regime here on Earth will have spiraled into chaos. That makes now the perfect opportunity to strike! And I…I will lead this mission!”

Bridge

Bumblebee moved over slightly to let Prowl lean in and work the keyboard he had been working on. The yellow mech watched with great interest as the strategist let the shuttle’s inhabitants know they had been cleared for docking.

Bee’s nose scrunched up as he looked from the terminal screen and over to the black and white What in the world was going on? Perturbed by Prowl’s recent behaivour, Bumblebee stood up from his chair and faced the mech.

“Alright. Enough beating around the bush, Prowl, why is Ultra Magnus here, and why are you keeping his arrival a big secret? And I don’t want any of your ‘I’ll explain later’ slag! I’m a part of this faction just like everyone else on these ships and we deserve to know what’s going on! So Spill!”

The fact that his old mentor was present on the bridge didn’t do anything to sway the small mech from voicing his opinion. Although he was now worried about how Kup just might view him.

Bridge

Prowl turned to regard Kup with a smile before responding to his query. “Yes, he’s here. We should head down to the docking port to greet....” The military strategist’s suggestion was cut off when Bumblebee suddenly stood up and once again demanded to know why Ultra Magnus had been called in and why it was such a big secret. The black and white’s demeanor revealed a bit of agitation, but he quickly brought that emotion in check as he replied to the minibot’s questions.

“Calm down, Bumblebee. There’s really no secret to be had,” Prowl said as he placed a steady hand on the scout’s shoulder. “There was simply nothing to reveal until Magnus had arrived in system. When Prime went missing, I contacted the City Commander and told him what had happened. Optimus was like a brother to him, after all, so it seemed like the right thing to do. As for why I requested his presence here, well, isn’t it obvious? Ultra Magnus is the best candidate to be the next Autobot leader, whether he realizes it yet or not.”

Prowl removed his hand from the minibot’s shoulder and made his way back to the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go down and welcome our guest aboard. You may all join me if you like or remain here. Your choice.” With that said, the strategist turned and exited the bridge, making his way to the docking port.

Docking Port

Prowl reached the hatchway just as it slid open, revealing the tall, regal form of Ultra Magnus who wasted no time in requesting permission to come aboard. “Permission granted, old friend,” the interim Autobot leader said with a broad smile as he extended his hand to the City Commander. “It’s good to see you again, Magnus. I just wish it was under different circumstances. The morale here has not been the same since Prime.....disappeared. But, we’re managing to hold things together nevertheless.”

Prowl then motioned for Magnus to follow him. “Come, let’s head up to the bridge, shall we? There’s much for us to discuss, and I’m sure you have a multitude of questions you would like answered.”

Mess Hall

Upon entering the mess hall, Hardhead listened as Hex asked further questions regarding the physical change that Rodimus had undergone while on Cybertron. Unfortunately, the war veteran had not been present to witness the actual transformation like some of the others, so he could only go by what he had been told.

“Well, Hex, from what I understand, Rodimus says he’s been chosen by the matrix to be the next Prime and he was somehow upgraded as a result. He’s bigger, stronger and appears much more mature than the cocky cavalier he used to be. Now, I don’t really know how all that happened. What I do know is that Rodimus is promising action and not more words, which is all I care about.”

Hardhead then walked towards the center of the room where he stopped and sat back against the edge of a large table, arms crossed over his chest plate as he waited for Rodimus to join them.
_________

The sound of Groove’s voice drew Howlstrike’s attention away from Rodimus for a moment. The small Protectobot introduced himself before then saying how the former Predacon’s decision to switch sides had inspired him in some way. Howl smirked slightly at the nervous display, but decided to be cordial to his tiny comrade. “Thanks...Groove, is it? But you should give most of the credit to Kup. He believed in me when no one else would. When everyone, including my former faction, had turned their backs on me, Kup befriended me and taught me how to be an Autobot. I couldn’t have done so without him.”

Howlstrike then returned his attention back to Rodimus, noticing that their pace had slowed a bit, which allowed most of the other mechs to arrive at the mess hall just ahead of them. It was of no concern to the ex-Predacon as to what exact order they all reached their destination. He was only concerned about what the former cavalier would say once they had all assembled before him.

As they entered the large chamber, Howlstrike felt his advance halted entirely when Rodimus placed an easy hand on his chest plate before addressing him directly. The flame-covered mech agreed that everything said here should be relayed back to Kup in order to make the old timer understand that action was the solution and not more words. Rodimus then turned his gaze to the others present and promised them an end to the war, citing that too many innocent races had been caught in the crossfire of their endless conflict and paid the ultimate price.

Howlstrike listened to everything Rodimus was saying, but his optics couldn’t help but remain fixated on the fiery mech’s hand that still lay on his chest plate like an itch he just wanted to scratch or, in this case, claw at violently. The tracker remained calm, however, as the Autobot formerly known as Hot Rod finally removed his actuators from Howl’s mechanical wolf head before speaking directly to him once more. It seemed that Rodimus was desperately trying to convince the former Predacon that he wanted to earn his respect by accomplishing the ambitious goals he had set forth. And for a brief moment, Howl actually believed him. At the very least, Rodimus seemed to believe his own rhetoric, but that meant nothing if his actions didn’t ultimately reflect his convictions.

The self-proclaimed Prime then fully turned to those gathered before him and announced that he would lead them to victory against the Decepticons, attacking the enemy while they were still disjointed and in the midst of chaos from the loss of Megatron. Across the room, Hardhead was the first to respond, raising his right fist into the air and chanting, “To victory! To Rodimus!”

It was a battle cry that Howlstrike found to be oddly Decepticon-like and not something that an Autobot would utter. Still, Rodimus had a way with words and was clearly capable of working a crowd in his favor. It would be interesting to see if the other mechs in the room shared in Hardhead’s enthusiasm or not.

“Terrific!” Howlstrike suddenly exclaimed in a somewhat sarcastic manner as he patted Rodimus on the shoulder. “You just gave me chills, really you did. But, I’m sure we would all like to know where to start. I mean, in order to attack the ‘Cons, we first need to know where to find them. Their old base is gone, so we won’t have much luck there. You wouldn’t happen to know the location of their new base would you, Roddy?”

Corridor/Mess Hall

On the way to the mess hall, Blurr managed to slow his pace some to stay next to Warpath. The warrior didn't know about the anything new wounded which was sort of odd, but not really worrisome. As the warrior described the battle, Blurr couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. He preferred to stay out of the violent side of the war, but that didn't make Warpath's excitement any less contagious. He enjoyed hearing the battle stories.

Warpath soon moved onto the newcomer, who was apparantly a new and improved version of Hot Rod. This boggled Blurr's processors for a moment - but only a moment - because Warpath again mentioned the energon. The courier wanted to pick up the pace a bit, but wouldn't leave Warpath behind.

"Me? I've been fine. Well, as fine as you can be after what happened to Prime. But Prime wouldn't want us to mope around, so I'm here and ready for action!"

It wasn't long before the courier entered the mess hall. He began to walk over to a small table next to where the others would be sitting, but stopped and turned as Rodimus gave his speech. Hardhead's rally cry went unanswered by Blurr, who was thinking about the incredible change Hot Rod had gone through. Blurr nudged Warpath slightly and nodded to Rodimus and Hardhead. "Wouldyalistentothat?" Blurr asked.

When Howlstrike gave his voice on the matter, he did bring up a good point. An attack couldn't be launched unless a location was known.

Medical Bay – Surgical Suite

Ratchet had just moved to the free slab when one of the monitors recording scans on Axle’s systems began to sound a low tone. It wasn’t an emergency; on the contrary, the sound indicated that the patient was coming out of his sedated state. In other words, Axle was waking up.

“Slag. He should have been out for three more cycles.”

With the CMO’s attention focused on the slab his subordinate was laid out on, Ratchet patted Hoist on the arm.

“I’ll be with you in a minute, Hoist. Just hang in there.”

That said, Ratchet moved to Axle’s side and ran a quick scan in order to pinpoint the reason for his sudden resurrection. It took only a moment to run across the entire frame of his patient, but the results came back inconclusive. Ratchet let out an annoyed snort as he tried to adjust his equipment. There had to be some kind of glitch giving him a false negative. He never noticed the field medic’s optics flicker back online.

He jumped back slightly when he felt Axle’s hand grab his wrist.

“What the frag?!”

The white and red mech glanced down and realized that the other medic was now fully online. Turning his head up, Ratchet let out a relieved sigh before lowering his chin and flashing Axle an angry sneer.

“I outta kick your aft from here to Cybertron! Do you know what First Aid and I had to do to put you back together?!”

Axle offered his superior a weak smile before he tried to speak. At first he thought his vocalizer was on the fritz but as it turned out it simply needed a reboot. After the reading in his HUD registered everything was back in proper working order Axle responded.

“I’m...I’m sure you di…did well enough. After all, you did have Fi..First Aid’s help.”

His smile broadened as he watched Ratchet’s face contort into something akin to a mad dog. Minus the drooling and snarling.

“Keep that up and I’ll throw myself back into your innards and start removing vital components.”

“I knew you missed me.”

Ratchet shook his head and waved the other medic off.

“Don’t flatter yourself. And if you even try to get off that slab I’ll sedate you again. So don’t even try it.”

With his orders given the CMO stepped back to Hoist. He stepped to one side of the slab he would be using to repair the mechanic and began gathering up a few pieces of scanning equipment and adjustment tools.

“Rathet?”

The quiet question came from the newly repaired medic. When Ratchet looked over his shoulder he noticed the lively demeanor that Axle had just been exhibiting was now gone…in its placed was a melancholy expression. Concerned, the CMO turned full around to face the prostrate mech.

“Yes? What is it Ax?”

“The battle. Is Hex okay?”

Although his subordinate was not looking in his direction, Ratchet still flashed him a reassuring smile.

“That annoying little slagheap’s fine. Once you’re well enough to make your way around this bucket you can chase after him all you like.”

“Where is he?”

Ratchet shrugged as he turned back around to rummage through his wares.

“He was out in the med bay, but the last time I went out there he was gone. I suppose he found a little hole to crawl into until he decides he’s ready to come out to torment someone.”

The answer he received brought back a smile to the field medic’s face. Everything Ratchet said was so true.

Bridge

Kup gave Bumblebee and Nova Strike a scowl. “You lads should have called us the moment you got this message instead of trying to crack the encryption. I know a lot has happened recently but there are still rules and protocols to follow here, especially on the bridge. Magnus ain’t exactly known for running a casual ship here, which I suggest you remember next time you ask or demand your superiors tell you what’s going on. I don’t have time to be retraining you.” He allowed his scowl to soften before turning back to Prowl.

“Just got on the slaggin’ bridge and now we’re off to the docking hatch. I’m probably going to have to have Ratchet tighten my knee joins from all of this back and forth on this ship.” The old Autobot followed after Prowl as he left the bridge.

*

Docking Port

Kup offered only a nod to Magnus as Prowl and he exchanged formalities. Prowl was running the show here, at least until things were officially handed off to Magnus. He didn’t want to overstep his bounds here or anything. He walked with the other two Autobots, patiently waiting for when they would need his advice, culled from ages of experience. Too few Autobots appreciated that, but he knew these two did.

Med Bay- Surgical Suite

Hoist couldn't help but feel a little bad for bothering Ratchet with such minor repairs, especially after the CMO had gone through so much to save Axle from injuries that actually could have been terminal. Still, he would be more of a nuisance for bothering Ratchet and then walking away.

As the mechanic made his way to the medical slab, he heard the tone coming from Axle's monitoring equipment, indicating the field medic was coming back online.

"Take your time, I'm in no rush.", Hoist said as Ratchet brought his attention to Axle.

Hoist stood quietly and patiently as he watched the exchange between the two medics. Anyone who didn't know Ratchet would have thought the CMO was completely out of line for talking to a critical patient the way he was. Hoist knew better, though, as he chuckled a little to himself. Ratchet cared about all of his patients, but whatever the field medic did must have been incredibly brave or very foolish. Or probably both.

"Welcome back to the world of functional mechanoids, Axle.", he cheerfully greeted the field medic.

Seemingly done with his berating of Axle, Ratchet came back to check up on Hoist.

"I'm a little embarassed about this, to be honest. I probably could have fixed this myself if it had been any other bot but me.", Hoist commented.

Before he said any more Axle asked Ratchet about his ward, Hex. Hoist found It touching that despite everything he had been through, Axle still worried about the bot he had taken under his wing. The mechanic decided it must have been more bravery than foolishness that sent him so close to the Allspark.

"It's nothing too serious, Ratchet. Some mild concussive damage to my cerebral circuits, giving me a mild headache. More annoying than painful, to be honest.", Hoist explained to he CMO, "And it seems like my full-spectrum scanner was damaged as well. I've been getting false readings from it since....."

Hoist stopped for a moment. He had to be careful with what he said to Ratchet since he'd been ordered to keep quiet about the Ark-19 incident. But he deeply trusted and admired the Autobot CMO.

I can't lie to another Autobot, and most certainly not Ratchet. Even if I tried, he'd surely see through it. The best I could possibly do is not tell him certain things. Slag it all, why'd you have to make that order, Prowl?

"...... Oh, sorry, my processors wandered. Perhaps my cranial chamber was dinged up a little more than I thought.", Hoist tried to cover as he thought of what to say, "Anyway, as I was saying, I've been getting some false readings from my scanner since I had a head-on collision with Ironfist."

Hoist hoped that would be enough of an explanation for Ratchet, having left out the part about the Dinobot Slag being the direct cause of their "head-on collision".

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

Mess Hall

For several breems Saferoute had kept to herself in the mess hall. Having spent more time in her life with what other mechs considered "inferior" beings, she often felt alienated from her own species. As she guzzled down her second drink, all she could think about were all the dead humans she had seen down on Earth. Innocent, defenseless creatures who knew nothing of Autobots, Decepticons or the Cybertronian civil war. Worst of all, she had seen this happen far too many times dozens of other planets.

Why didn't we just stay and die with the rest of our planet? Would have done the universe a lot better.

As she continued to wallow in self-pity, the bots from the med bay made their way in. She got up to take a seat farther away from them- when she noticed that her mug was empty.

"Aw, slaggit.", she grumbled to herself, as she carefully headed toward the energy dispensers while trying not to draw any attention to herself. She stopped as the large, flame-covered bot she met earlier, Rodimus, made a short speech to rally those who were there. Though she had wanted to avoid being around anyone, she had to admit that she liked what she heard. She'd hated how too many Autobots like Prowl focussed on staying on the defensive. By giving the Decepticons space and time, they allowed countless weaker species throughout the galaxy to suffer, leaving them to try to clean up the damage they had already done. Going on the attack, giving the Decepticons something to do besides exploiting and exterminating the planet's natives and resources. That was something she could agree with.

"Yes, victory! Make those murdering slaggers pay!", she shouted following Hardhead's cry, "I'll follow you, Rodimus!"

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

Warpath stayed along side Blurr, grateful that the courier had continued to keep his speech slow enough for the warrior to understand.

"BANG, that's the spirit Blurr ol' buddy!", the warrior said as he gave the courier a friendly pat on the back, "We gotta be ready for whenever ol' WHAM logic-bot decides to attack, or waits until those lousy cons do something."

As they entered the mess hall, Warpath went straight to the energy dispensers. Over a cycle ago his friend Lore-Lock had said he could get some genuine energon onto the Guardian from the Ark-19. Since then Warpath had been looking forward to it. He grabbed a mug and put it into the dispense, anticipating the sweet fuel he would be drinking.

"POW, this is gonna be so good!", the warrior exclaimed as his mug quickly filled with the glowing liquid.

Once his drink was ready Warpath quickly raised it in front of Blurr and the others, "BLAM down the hatch!"

The warrior brought the mug up to his faceplate, a small vent opening for the fuel to go into. With great expectations he poured the energon out of the mug and into the vent- but as soon as the usual bitter taste reached his palette, he expelled it from his fuel pipe.

"SLAGGIT! It's the same ZINGO fake sludge it always was!", he shouted in disgust, "WHAM what gives? Where's BOOM Lore-Lock and the good stuff from the Ark-19?"

Warpath was ready to go into a rant when Blurr gave him a nudge, drawing the warrior's attention to Rodimus, making him forget about his energon complaints. He liked the thought of taking the action to the Decepticons, especially after all the slag he'd taken in Iran. He was hankering to hit them back, but much harder. After hearing Hardhead and Saferoute's answering cry, the warrior had to make his voice heard to.

"BLAM, I wanna blast some mortars up their exhaust pipes!", he shouted, "Go Rodimus!"

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

Groove's opinion of Howlstrike grew as the hunter seemed rather humble about his change of allegiance, giving more credit to the elderly Kup. It made sense, Kup was an excellent judge of character and was seen by most as a mentor. Though a little disappointed that Howlstrike went back to Rodimus, Groove continued to follow the rest to the mess hall. Once there the scout stood around, avoiding the warriors, waiting for Rodimus or someone to say something of importance. Finally, the one who had brought them all there spoke out to everyone- and Groove's disappointment could not have been greater.

I should have known better than to bring my hopes up. He talks to me about peace, but all he's planning is to bring more destruction and violence.

To make matters worse several bots seemed to agree with Rodimus, their enthusiasm startling the pacifist, though not surprising him. With the loss of Prime and the general dislike of Prowl, all it would take was a mech that was loud enough and charismatic enough to draw everyone in. Groove had to speak up, or things would possibly get out of hand before too long. After Howlstrike voiced his concerns about not knowing the location of any Decepticon base, Groove stepped up to Rodimus to make his opinion known.

"You told me you wanted to talk about peace and the end of the war, but all you're doing is giving us more war. I can't agree with this in any way.", the scout calmly said, trying to look directly into Rodimus' optics, though it seemed oddly difficult, "And my own disdain for violence aside, are you really in any position to make such a plan? You may have undergone some physical and possibly mental upgrades, but do you have any real authority to make such a plan and lead in this attack? Has Prowl or anyone else in command approved this? Do they even know?"

As Groove really started to think about this, his circuits started to shiver. He didn't like the way things were going with this new, improved Rodimus.

Bridge

Nova Strike leaned back in his appropriated chair and spun to face the music from the wily vet and the Sector Commander. He said nothing, given he was the lowest ranking member of the quartet that now populating the auxiliary console stations. To be honest, he wasn't much of a bridge operative anyways so many of the protocols were not hardwired into his instinct profile. Still what Kup had scolded him over made perfect sense.

"Understood." He finally broke his silence as the pair of Prowl and Kup shifted position and departed the bridge for the lower decks.

As soon as the double doors sealed behind them and the alert klaxons were silenced, Nova turned his attention to Bumblebee. "You would think that given the circumstances they would at least appreciate we didn't go with the protocol, shoot first ask questions later." He gave a sarcastic smile hoping his humor would at least add to brighten the yellow bots mood.

"That begs the question however, why would Prowl bring in Ultra Magnus? I mean yeah he's a great field commander, at least from what I've heard. But Autobot Leader?" The Ranger stretched his actuators in his shoulders before turning his attention back to the tactical display as the primary guns returned to standby status. "Last I heard, Magnus fought pump and piston not to be promoted to City Commander and only then accepted when Optimus intervened."

The blue ranger toggled a few commands into the tactical display and secured the final protocols from alert status to standby. The monitor reverted from red to green and passive sensors were redirected towards the massive expanse between the planet known as Earth and its sister planets and satellites. "Still if he does accept the promotion as Sector Commander, then maybe you and I will see some action off ship. I am sure those slagging rust heaps out there in violet aren't resting and licking their emotional wounds like we are."

Docking Port

Magnus nodded. He turned his head toward Prowl. "It is indeed good to see you as well Prowl. It has been a fairly long time. I wish it was under better circumstances." He took hold of the strategist's hand and gave it a firm shake of welcome, though like his counterpart his emotions were reigned in and professional. He resisted the urge to cringe at the mention of Optimus's disappearance. The facts were still sketchy and had not been well vested in the correspondences he had shared with Prowl during his transport to the Sol System. He made a mental note to get more details at a more opportune time, right now there were matters of filling the void and reestablishing some sense of order through the ranks. Add to that, they needed a purpose to bring them out of their doldrums.

"Perhaps I can help turn the trend slightly regarding morale on board ship before we begin our meeting." Magnus pressed a small communication toggle on his left wrist. The airlock door hissed behind him with a similar equalization of pressure that had occurred when he first emerged on the Guardian from the Longevity. This time however at the edge of the shuttle hatchway stood two anti gravity sleds each loaded to capacity.

Stepping forward to clear the way for the two sleds Magnus greeted his two aides and escorts, Dice and Squilliam. The two mini bots, one green the other a combination of jade and amber, pushed through the carts and stopped at the foot of Prowl and Kup. Magnus glanced over at Kup briefly. "Our cargo holds are loaded with fresh supplies from Liberty." He shifted his weight briefly as he allowed his two aides to begin searching the ships directory for the nearest medical supply holds. "It is good to see you as well Kup."

Ultra Magnus returned his gaze to Prowl. "Lead the way Prowl. There isn't much time to take advantage of this lull and I suggest we not squander it."

Training Hold

Knuckle prints remained in the side of the swinging sack of silicates as it lunged back and forth on its reinforced tractor chains. The sounds of the latest thump echoed through out the gym its motion slowed and bounced back onto the still extended fist of the original striking pose. Another grunt and the sack of silicate swung back again after a stinging pop delivered in the form of a powerful left cross. It was soon joined by a pair of right jabs another left hook and finally a downward strike of a right handed widow maker.

Slingshot's fist stung after he retracted it from the silicate bag, as it had since he had first begun his futile attempt to vent his frustration. His mind still focused back towards that moment in the medical bay. That fear filled tin strutted excuse for a flight leader, that coward had literally stabbed him right between the wings. "How dare you punish me." He spat as he slugged the bag again, this time with enough force that the adjusted tractor chain fluctuated and momentarily failed, allowing the bag of silicates to crash on the wall a short distance away. "Siding with that sore excuse for an news copter over one of your own team members."

He fumed again as he punched the bag as it was slowly redrawn back into the tractor field. His shoulders heaved up and down as his internal systems struggled to regulate the flow of power to his hydraulics. He still seethed with anger. What made it worse, his fearless commander had not even bothered to at least try and make his betrayal less blatant or even try to explain himself.

"Computer." He snapped without caring whether or not his frustration leaked into his voice. "Time!"

"Current reservation has approximately two point oh five breems remaining. Shall I increase gravitational difficulty to level 5?"

"Whatever, just generate the silicate bag with another one of that sour aft's sorry expression on it. I already killed the other one."

"Order confirmed. Generation beginning." With that the damaged and bruised bag of silicates was drawn into the ceiling. It was replaced moments later with a bag filled with a denser material. As soon as it was locked in place, Slingshot began driving his fists straight into the harder material and immediately regretted it.

Mess Hall

Hardhead had made his way to the center of them room after answering the scout’s questions about Rodimus and his mysterious new look and change in attitude. The explanation was a bit perplexing, but Hex was never one to over think things…it was one of the problems Axle had trouble dealing with. In all honesty Hex could care less how or why Rodimus became who he is now; what mattered now was to get to the ‘Cons so he could pound them into smoldering pulp.

He cleared his thoughts, if only temporarily of the carnage he hoped to inflict, and listened intently to everything the orange and red mech had to say. It was very promising. Exactly what he needed and wanted to hear.

The sound of Hardhead’s chanting of the self-proclaimed Prime brought a wide grin to his face. It took no time, and certainly no deliberations, for Hex to raise his own fist and join the green warrior in his chanting.

You’ve only got three of them convinced! The others will never choose you! You’re not going to get what you want leaving your master no other choice then to destroy you. There’s nothing left to do but leave.

Three now, but there will be more to follow. I can already see them.

How would you know? They’re Autobots, most of them can’t be manipulated.

Is that what you believe? I have already converted three, the others will follow or they will be destroyed. My master will see to it. I have been bestowed with great powers. I have the ability to see all and know all. And I can clearly see the end of your race.

Silence.

Now watch, young one, watch as your friends seal their own fate.

Rodimus took a long look at Howlstrike as the wolf-former finally spoke up. His response to the imposter’s impassioned speech was simplistic and sarcastic…exactly like the mech. Rodimus gave the former Predacon a nod before he moved to stand in front of him but so much as to crowd Kup’s pet.

“No, Howlstrike. I don’t know where their base is located, but that doesn’t mean we can’t find it. Pooling our resources and our own abilities will be paramount in locating them and their base. You must understand the task ahead will be fruitful, but we must work together.”

Rodimus grew quiet upon the arrival of Groove, that peaceful pacifist…

How I would love to tear him apart in front of you and your pitiful friends, but his stay of execution will be upheld…for now.

The Autobot imposter looked down into the optics of the hopeful mech and smiled. No malice, no fury, a simple trusting smile.

“I did say we would talk about peace, but how can that possibly happen when one side will not listen? Optimus Prime tried, tirelessly to show Megatron just how wrong his line of thinking was. He attempted on numerous occasions to speak of peace with the Decepticon lord, but he failed to gain any ground. Peace cannot be one sided, Groove.”

Rodimus’ smile softened as he placed a gentle hand on the Protectobot’s shoulder.

“The Decepticons must be made to listen. I understand that that goes against everything you stand for, but there just isn’t any other way. Surly you can see that.”

He released the shorter mech’s shoulder but his optics remained on his face. The smile morphing into something more serious.

“Prowl will know, soon enough, what I am planning, what we all are planning. He’ll see that this is the only way to proceed. That it’s the only way to end this war.”

Bridge

“I am calm. I’m always calm.”

Bumblebee muttered as his optics turned to the floor. Even as Prowl reassured him that contacting, and the subsequent arrival of Ultra Magnus was no secret, Bumblebee still had his reservations about the tactician and his covert plan. He never mentioned anything about bringing other Autobots to this sector in order to take up the reigns.

Of course Magnus had every right to know what happened to Prime, after all they were as close as brothers, but to keep it so quiet…it just didn’t sit right with the yellow mech.
He never looked up especially when the black and white finally excused himself in order to greet their new arrival. Bumblebee never moved even at the invitation to accompany Prowl to the docking port. Instead he chose to meet with Magnus once the city commander had made his way to the bridge.

The sound of Kup’s voice gave Bumblebee all the reason to look back up. The old warhorse was mentor to nearly all of the Autobot army, and everyone listened to anything the mech had to say. He had a story for every situation, and the hope of hearing one now was all Bumblebee could think about. That story never came. Instead he received a good talking to. Something he dreaded receiving on any occasion, but coming from Kup made it ten times worse.

The minibot, once again, lowered his head partially in shame the other in embarrassment. He hadn’t been admonished by anyone in vorns and having it done now just made him feel worse.

He was about to offer his apologies when Kup turned and left the bridge along with Prowl. As soon as the two commanding officers had vacated the area, Bumblebee raised his head and offered Nova a long defeated look. After the ranger tried his hand at softening the blow, Bumblebee simply moved past him and took a seat at the communications console. The smaller ‘Bot placed both elbows on either side of the keypad and rested his chin in both hands.

“That’s what I’d like to know, Nova. Everyone knows about Magnus’ reservations on taking up command positions, what could possibly be gained by bringing him here? Why didn’t Prowl call in a more willing candidate?”

The answers to his own questions eluded him, but he swore he'd figure it out in the end. Was Magnus such a bad choice? Probably not. Could he fill the void left by the loss of Optimus Prime? No one could.

Surgical Suite

Axle grew quiet as Ratchet moved back over to his new patient. But at the sound of Hoist’s voice the field medic turned his head to look at the green mechanic. He flashed Hoist a smile and gave him a nod.

“Thanks Hoist.”

Ratchet waited for the mech’s explanation of what had happened while he was on board the Ark – 19. While listening, the CMO rubbed his chin and gave Hoist the once over with just his optic sensors.

“Nonsense. No need to be embarrassed. After all that’s why there’re medics around. You do the repairs yourself and we’ll be out of jobs.”

After answering Axle’s question concerning his ward, Ratchet refocused his attention back on Hoist.

“You know, I’m tired of people telling me ‘It’s nothing serious.’ If it wasn’t serious you sure as hell wouldn’t be here! Now let me have a look here…”

The crotchety medic stepped in close and deftly opened the back of the mechanic’s cranium. If there was a problem with his processor it would just be faster, not to mention, easier to scan it directly. From his right wrist a small wire emerged and slid into a port at the base of Hoist’s brain module. Reading began to pour in almost immediately across Ratchet’s HUD.

While the scan was taking place Ratchet listened to everything his patient had to say concerning the accident. The CMO looked up as he heard Hoist cut himself off before finished a sentence. It was unusual but not unheard of for the mech to suddenly stop speaking mid-sentence. But it was Hoist’s next statement that caught Ratchet’s full attention. Processors wandered. Not according to these readings. He decided not to mention it until Hoist proclaimed that he and Ironfist had a head on collision. Ratchet let out a grunt before the wire disconnected and retracted back into his wrist.

“I need to check on something. You hang tight, Hoist. I’ll be right back.”

The white and red mech stalked past both Hoist’s and Axle’s surgical slabs and exited the room. Moments later Ratchet stomped back in with a deep scowl set on his face. Instead of moving to stand behind Hoist to continue his work, Ratchet stopped in front of the mech.

“Head on collision with Irionfist. His head looks like it went through a turbo charged trash compactor! Just how hard did you hit him?! And why don’t you have nearly as much damage as he does?! Don’t lie to me, Hoist. I wanna know what happened, everything.”

“That’s my queue.”

While Ratchet began his near tirade Axle realized that he wanted no part in what was about to happen. He only wished he could have been out side in the med bay instead of the surgical suite with a half-crazed CMO.

With both other mechs preoccupied the field medic slowly sat up making no sound save for a low grunt. Carefully he swung his lags over the side of the slab and stood up. The room spun slightly but after a moment it subsided.

Once he was confident he could walk without toppling over, Axle made his way to the door. It slid open silently and he made his way out into the med bay proper. There weren’t many mechs in the room…Thank Primus.

After taking a good log look around the room he noticed First Aid working on who must have been Ironfist as the mech’s head was pretty banged up.

Axle fixed a broad smile on his face as he worked his way over to First Aid and his patient. He stopped behind and to the side of the doctor and watched him work.

“Use the spanner. The removal will be a lot easier.”

The Protectobot pulled his hands away from Ironfist, his optics wide and bright with surprise. He spun around and came face to face with Axle.

“What’re you doing up?! You were under heavy sedation! Does Ratchet know you’re up?!”

“Whoa, Aid, calm down. I’m up because the sedation wore off sooner than expected. Probably because the sedatives we use are inadequate; not to mention using them so often builds up an immunity.”

The smile on Axle’s face softened a bit before he answered First Aid’s last question.

“The Hatchet knows I’m up…he just doesn’t know I left. Do me a favor and don’t mention it to him.”

He didn’t give the Protectobot time to respond before he was at the door to the med bay and it was sliding open. However, before he made it completely into the hall he stopped and looked back to his fellow medic.

“Oh, and Aid. Thanks. I owe you and Ratchet.”

And just like that the field medic was out the door.

Docking Port

Prowl cracked a smile as Ultra Magnus gripped his hand and returned a warm greeting of his own. “Too long, my friend. Unfortunately, in times of war, the circumstances that ultimately bring comrades back together are usually bitter sweet ones. Prime’s loss has been felt by everyone here in this sector to one degree or another, even if they don’t all show it outwardly. It’s the internal struggle that I’m more concerned about. The morale is low and I’m afraid I haven’t been able to curve it yet despite my efforts.”

The black and white mech then regarded Magnus with a puzzled look when the City Commander said that he might be able to increase morale even before their meeting had begun. Prowl watched as the hatchway opened once more to reveal two hover sleds that were fully loaded with supplies. A pair of minibots then appeared and made their way to the foot of both Prowl and Kup before moving to a nearby console where they began to search for the appropriate storage facilities on board. The announcement that the Longevity’s cargo holds were filled with such needed supplies from Liberty brought a wide smile to Prowl’s faceplate. “I think all this will certainly go a long way here, Magnus. Thank you. It’s very much appreciated, especially in these dark cycles. Now, as you said, let’s not squander this time that we have. There are important matters to discuss. The bridge is this way.”

And with that Prowl turned and lead the way back down the corridor, leaving the minibots behind to handle the stack of fresh supplies.

Bridge

The trip back to the bridge did not take long as Prowl walked swiftly through the halls of the frigate with Ultra Magnus and Kup following close behind. The City Commander understood the urgency of the situation they all found themselves in just as well as the military strategist did. Time was not something to be wasted here.

Once the doors parted, Prowl entered the bridge to find Bumblebee and Nova Strike at the communications and weapons stations, respectively. The black and white spared them both a quick glance before moving on towards one of the adjacent briefing rooms along the right side of the deck. Stopping for a moment, Prowl looked back at both Magnus and Kup. “I suggest we meet in here to ensure privacy. I can have any and all data that you require transferred to one of the terminals inside.”

Prowl then stepped across the threshold and into the briefing room where he waited for Ultra Magnus and Kup to join him. The analyst knew that the City Commander would likely offer a quick greeting to the other Autobots on the bridge out of common curtesy. For the black and white it was a time waster as he already knew everyone there and none of them enjoyed his company anyway. However, Magnus was viewed very differently by the masses. He was both charismatic and well liked by all. It were these two traits that Prowl hoped to use to raise morale and unite the Autobots under a new leader, if not a reluctant one.

Infirmary

Ironfist relaxed on the flat and rather uncomfortable slab in the maintenance ward, his mind already processing the unseen images of the operations taking place to his damaged interior. He knew from his basic scans which areas had been damaged due to the radiation absorption he had managed to endure, from physical power routing subroutines to even short term memory engrams. All of them were easily replaced, he had seen it done a myriad of times during his initial courses of engineering. Everyone with an engineering background had been forced to take brief lessons of medicine and biology. Looking back on it, he found such lessons to be tedious at best and disturbing at worst. It was a reason why he held respect for those of First Aid and Ratchet's caliber.

The engineer fidgeted briefly. He really wished he had something to read to preoccupy his mind during this procedure. If anything just to help him catch up on the cycle's last updates of weapon modifications. Ironfist again fidgeted, this time looking up briefly to see the irritation on the Protectobot medic's face plate. He issued an apology and forced himself off of the subject of boredom and onto something to keep his mind productive.

Mind, mental signatures. Ironfist's mind floated down a subconscious tunnel into what he liked to refer to as his "Interior Solitude." There a mental avatar formed through the black ether of the endless confines of his brain. With a snap of the Avatar's digits a line of consoles appeared through the darkened haze. They immediately flared to life projecting a line of holographic images of the enhanced modular shells he had been working on before this entire mess had begun. It was time to rewrite some code and discover what he needed through his long term memory in order to determine whether or not this idea of his was actually crazy enough to work.

Foggy Room

Jazz couldn't see; It was dark. There was no way to tell where he was. He heard a deep yell behind him, it sounded familiar. Jazz turned to see a horrifying sight: Optimus was before him, but mutilated. His paint was singed and crisp and his metal was melted. Metallic parts shone from his face.

"Prime! Are you okay!?" Jazz tried to run to his friend, but he wasn't moving.

Optimus fell to his knees and held out his hand to Jazz, "Jazz! Help me!"

"Optimus! I'm coming!" Jazz yelled, but he was still not moving.

The Autobot leader fell, just as soon as Jazz finally began to move. There was something wrong, though. The room was fading, light was pouring from where Optimus was.

"OPTIMUUUUUUU-" Jazz yelled out, just as he lurched forward into-

Med Bay

"-UUS!!" Jazz finished as he fell from the CR Chamber and unto the floor.

Jazz picked himself up from the floor, head darting around, trying to make sense of the whole experience. He was dreaming. Jazz shook his head at his response; he felt embarrassed for lurching out of the CR Chamber yelling like he did.

No matter.

Jazz walked to Ratchet with a broad grin like nothing had happened, then said, "Hey man! How are ya, man? Anything I can help with?"

Medical Bay- Surgical Suite

Having his cerebral circuits and processors scanned directly by the CMO only made Hoist feel worse about having to keep the incident with the Dinobots a secret. He had performed such a scan countless times before himself, but it still left him feeling somewhat exposed. After the scan seemed to be complete Ratchet left the room for a moment, Hoist still sitting with the back of his head open.

Slag it all, that can't be good. Either there's something seriously wrong with me, or Ratchet doesn't entirely believe what I've told him.

Hoist's hunch had been corrrect as Ratchet marched right in front of him, looking none too happy. Apparently the CMO had checked on Ironfist for confirmation, and realized something didn't add up with Hoist's explanation. The mild headache Hoist had felt came back as he tried to think of what else he could tell Ratchet, without breaking Prowl's order. Then he remembered another detail from earlier which had nothing to do with the Dinobots. Hoist looked up at Ratchet.

"Well, when we were fixing up Engineering,", Hoist began to explain, looking Ratchet straight into his optics, "Ironfist went into the lower decks, which still had dangerous levels of radiation. He was determined to get the engines up and running as soon as possible, he didn't bother with any protective armor or shielding. When we hit his armor and integrity fields were both in a weakened state, so he took it worse than I did."

Hoist was telling the truth, and he knew what he said was technically sound. But the fact was he hadn't explained how or why two bots in engineering could possibly have such a collision. He knew Ratchet was too smart and too stubborn not to see Hoist was keeping something from him. As Jazz entered the surgical suite and asked if he could help, Hoist felt he had to explain himself to Ratchet.

"Ratchet, you know that there are very few Autobots I respect more than you. I have not lied to you in any way, nor would I want to.", Hoist said with complete sincerity, "You're right if you believe there are things I haven't told you. Believe me, I very much would like to tell you everthing that happened. But I can't."

Hoist looked over at Jazz for a moment, then back at Ratchet.

"None of us can.", he finished with reluctance.

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

Mess Hall

As comforting as Rodimus' words, and his smile may have been, Groove still couldn't agree with the alleged Prime's position. He had always taken the position that violence would only lead to further violence.

"You're right, this does go against everything I stand for.", Groove replied, "Maybe Optimus couldn't convince Megatron, and even without Megatron the Decepticons have continued to attack Earth. But I still refuse to believe that further violence toward our Cybertronian brothers and sisters is the only way to end this war."

When it seemed Rodimus had finished making his point, the flame-covered mech removed his hand from the scout's shoulder. The once comforting smile on Rodimus' face disappeared, as he assured quite seriously that Prowl would be informed. The self-proclaimed Prime's words and tone only further worried Groove.

That doesn't sound like he's going to inform Prowl, at least not through any proper channels. It sounds more like he's planning a coup, or a mutiny. This isn't right. Whatever happened to Hot Rod has changed him, in a bad way. I need to tell Hot Spot or Prowl what's going on soon, before this gets out of hand. But I can't make it too obvious to anyone in here....

Groove suddenly gave a surprised look, like he had forgotten something.

"Wait, what time is it now- OH SLAG!", Groove exclaimed all worried, "I was supposed to be on the bridge working the navigation console over a breem ago! I'm sorry Rodimus, I have to go now! Hot Spot will never let me forget this!"

Acting frustrated, Groove turned around and walked through the gathered bots to the mess hall door.

Bridge

Nova Strike settled into his chair and placed his elbow onto the solid onyx colored surface of the auxiliary tactical control. He allowed his right index finger to slowly peck at some of the toggles set just below the primary sensor display of the terminal. A series of small insignificant blips slowly resolved onto the monitor, he quickly flagged them as blue non hostile communication satellites that orbited the planet around the blue green sphere they had currently deemed worthy of defense. Satellites and telescopes and other technological devices all launched by the primitive organic population down on that backwaters surface.

Nova found it rather amusing that such a world, self absorbed with its own supposed superiority and galactic isolation, would draw the attention of any within either command structure. Over all he found the rock they orbited as a world of little strategic worth. Aside from some sources of natural energy production it did not hold the same level of necessary minerals for either side's war effort.

The ranger allowed the thought to linger in the back of his processor when his attention was grabbed by the pneumatic hiss of the doors leading to the hallway. Switching his terminal to threat analysis and potential technological detection from the backwater world, Nova pivoted in his chair and allowed his facial expression to solidify.

Ultra Magnus gave a nod to the two guards that had been posted outside of the bridge. He knew it wasn't a necessary deployment per say, but giving the restless some sort of task to accomplish minimized the effects of being idle for great lengths of time. They offered him a salute before parting ways and granting him, Prowl and Kup access to the bridge proper.

The City Commander's shadow immediately consumed the various occupied stations, casting them into eerie glows of greens, reds and yellows. The small murmurs of idle talk immediately died within the chamber as Autobots of each shape and size turned from their assigned tasks to take in the surprising source of the shadow.

Magnus conversed briefly with the supervisory duty officer who had been given command of the bridge in the absence of those of the primary command roster. The chat was short and pointed before the duty officer gave a quick nod over to the pair of auxiliary consoles in a lower level of the operations pit. A small smile tugged at his lips as he took the hand of the officer and gave it a solid shake.

As Prowl and Kup headed up towards the primary commanders office, Ultra Magnus stepped down into the operations well. He shook the hands of several operatives who had been charged with monitoring Earth Communications and Broadcasts as well as various engineering reports. Small talk was brisk but slowly turned the mood up from one of a solemn drudgery of repetitive tasks to one of optimism. The City Commander did not care as to why that change happened and doubted he was the source of a new found sense of hope. All he was... well I really do not know who I am just yet.

After giving a brief congratulations to one of the helmsmechs who had been recently promoted from the Gamma Shift to the Beta Shift, Magnus turned the corner of the well and approached the isolated auxiliary bank of utility consoles. The very two that were inhabited by Bumblebee and Nova Strike at Communications and Tactical Respectively. Stopping just behind the two Autobots, Ultra Magnus released a leashed smile. "So you are the two responsible."

Nova Strike shuddered briefly, "responsible?"

Magnus reached down and tapped Bumblebee on the shoulder. "You two are the ones responsible for detecting the Longevity. I have to say that I am rather impressed... though I have to admit it isn't very surprising Bumblebee, you have a history of finding the most obscure. Optimus would be proud to see how far you have come."

Bridge

Bumblebee had moved back to the communications station and took up the same task he had been doing before the arrival of Prowl and Kup. He wasn’t angry with the two mechs, he was more disappointed in himself for approaching a senior officer and speaking out of like. He’d have to apologize…when the time was right.

He took a look to his left and watched Nova as the ranger flicked a few switches and stared unseeing into the nearly blank screen. The scene brought a small smile to his face followed by a low chuckle. The minibot remembered plenty of times when he had been assigned to monitor duty and things got monotonous.

“Hey, Nova. No need to work so hard.”

Bumblebee sent the mech a warm smile before it quickly faded. Bee turned in his chair as the door opened and Prowl and Kup entered the bridge. He took a good long look at both of them before he turned his attention back to his work. Yeah, now is not a good time.

He wasn’t at all surprised when he heard a series of heavy footfalls as Ultra Magnus entered the bridge after both the tactician and elder warrior moved through the area and entered the commander’s office where they would wait for the city commander.

Bumblebee let out a low sigh as he tried to focus on the work he had resided himself to perform, but the presence of the City Commander on deck was simply too distracting. The Auotbot scout had known Ultra Magnus for quite some time, but he always felt just a little intimidated, and now was no different. He couldn’t help but overhear Magnus’ congratulations to the helmsmechs who had been promoted. The act brought a small smile to his face. Always been a considerate mech. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

And there where those foot falls again. Bumblebee tried his best to keep at his work, but the suspense was so grating that he had a difficult time keeping focus. Finally, there it was. While still facing his console’s screen Bee gave a slight nod at Ultra Magnus’ observation.

The yellow mech swiveled ‘round to face the much larger red, blue and white Commander after he felt a tap to his shoulder. In one fluid motion Bumblebee stood up and saluted Magnus, after all he didn’t want to deviate from any of the proper protocols.

“Yes sir. But Nova Strike, here, was the first to detect the signal. I only decoded the message, sir.”

The scout’s hand fell from his temple at the mention of Optimus Prime’s name. He lowered his gaze to the floor, his spark heavy with sorrow.

“Yeah. Thanks Magnus; I mean sir. I just wish I could have heard it from him as well.”

Medical Bay – Surgical Suite

Ratchet had kept his optics glued to Hoist as the mech tried in vain to explain himself. The CMO narrowed his optics, a deep frown set on his face. The mechanic tried his damndest to convince him that the tale he was feeding him was the truth.

The red and white mech paid no mind to the sound of one of the CR Chambers outside in the med bay proper opening. His optics never wavered from his patient when Jazz walked into the surgical area. Even after the special operations officer asked about possibly helping out, Ratchet kept his gaze steady.

“First of all, Jazz, this is the surgical suite, so unless your leaking energon from your optics at a steady rate, or you’re in pieces, then I suggest you leave. Secondly, get the hell out of my Med Bay!”

With his last word the medic turned around, grabbed a hold of a wrench and flung it aiming for the music loving mech.

His point made Ratchet turned back to Hoist with a growl. That same frown plastered on his face. The medic was seething, Hoist was keeping something important from him that may or may not be vital to his repairs, and now he was getting interrupted by mechs who figured now was the best time to offer their services.

“So, you’re telling me that Ironfist went into a contaminated area and somehow you and he had some sort of collision. That’s interesting, Hoist. Now, I’d like to know how you two smashed into one another in engineering. I find it hard to comprehend how you two collided…from what I understand the 19 was stationary. And were you in the lower decks with Ironfist or had he come up to you? ”

Ratchet furrowed his brow when Hoist tried, and failed, to butter the CMO up with his accolade. He had to admit it was an admirable attempt, but that was all it was. What caught Ratchet off guard was Hoist’s revelation that there were things he was keeping from him but he simply couldn’t reveal them. Ratchet’s jaw slackened at the mechanics final words.

“What do you mean ‘none of us’? Have you been given orders to keep quiet about something, because that information may be important for repair purposes, especially for Ironfist.”

The CMO placed a hand gently on the green mech’s shoulder.

“Hoist, please, this may be vital.”

Mess Hall

Rodimus remained silent as Groove went about voicing his opinion on just what the red and orange mech was in the process of doing. From within he heard faint laughter.

I told you. He can see right through you. He’s never going along with your insane plan and neither will the others.

The Chosen One paid no mind to the insignificant voice from within. None of what he spoke of meant anything to him. He needed to focus all of his abilities on these creatures and his task. His master was counting on him and his gathering horde.

Rodimus offered Groove a comforting smile, but it quickly faded into an expression of surprise when the Protectobot suddenly announced that he was supposed to be on the bridge. It didn’t matter. Soon the little cretin would be eliminated, like all of the others.

While the white and gold mech started to make his way through those gathered Rodimus sent him a private message.

>>”I know you don’t think I’m going to speak with Prowl, but I am. And your fears of a coup d’état, no need to worry. I’ve no plans to overthrow anything. I simply want what we all want; to end the war.”<<

Rodimus stared off in Groove’s direction and sent the mech a broad knowing smile.

>>”Oh, and don’t worry about Hot Rod. He’s still here.”<<

Your friend is a tenacious one. Yet he fails to see the bigger picture. He, like all of your pathetic brethren will be consumed, as will your home. Or shall I say homes.

You and your chosen few won’t win. You can’t. You will be stopped. Maybe not by me, but the rest of them will…that’s a promise.

I have already seen the future. The Unbringer cannot be stopped. He will not be stopped. And I grow tired of your inane banter. I believe it’s time to put a stop to it.

Silence

Ah, much better.


Corridors

While Axle traversed the winding corridors that made up the Guardian’s interior he took time to rub subconsciously at his chestplate. His idea to try and convince Motormaster that he needed to listen to reason had backfired miserably. What’s more he put his friend’s comrades in danger. The field medic shook his head trying to shake the feeling that he may have been responsible for the loss of that particular mission.

He clenched his jaw and balled both hands into tight fists. He stopped suddenly and sent one of his clenched hands into a wall. The pain was minor as was the any damage to his fist, but the wall suffered a sizable dent. Axle took a long look at the bulkhead, his face twisted in a menacing grimace. How could he be so naïve?

The deep scowl melted slowly leaving in its wake a dejected expression. The tight clenched fists loosened up as he fell forward catching the metal wall with his palms. He stayed like that for some time hoping no one would happen by and see, not only the damage to the bulkhead, but the sorry state he was now in. He couldn’t save Hex from himself how could he possibly believe he could save a bunch of humans with a few soothing words.

“What was I thinking?”

The sound of his comm link brought him out of his dour mood. He pushed himself away from the vertical surface and opened up the link. The medic’s head cocked to one side when he heard a voice he never encountered before. Tracer? Hm…must have been assigned to the Guardian before they arrived to pick us up. And from the sound of her something happened that needed attention right away.

>>”Tracer, this is Axle I’m on my way.”<<

“Jack obviously blew himself, or someone else up…hm, or he was able to do both.”

Axle took a look in direction he had come and shook his head. Not going back to the med bay. Ratchet’ll have my head. He made a check of the two storage compartments he had and was satisfied when he concluded he had what he needed to repair a severed limb…which usually what happened after a Wheeljack experimental explosion. The field medic set off at a jog until he got to the air lock leading from the Guardian to the Ark – 22.

Bridge

Ultra Magnus nodded at the smaller bot's modesty. He had remembered his conversations with Optimus cycles ago regarding this very quality. In fact he had argued that it had been lost during the eons of war. An age of combat and heroes there were always those who had deemed it necessary to accept or at least claim some part in a greater conquest. Claims for glory and honor in order to build status for the eventual day this damnedable war would end. Of course Optimus had argued counterly that Magnus himself was a paragon of that very virtue, always humble and always sacrificing himself... of course Magnus countered with the age old response of 'I just do what is needed Prime.'

"No need to be humble about it Bumblebee." Nova Strike snapped Ultra Magnus's memory like a shard of transparent aluminum. The City Commander's optics briefly turned to see the blue autobot give a solid and self reassuring whack to the yellow espionage expert. "I found it by chance, and if you hadn't discovered what it was, well to be honest that shuttle would be nothing more than a ball of expanding atmosphere right now."

Magnus stifled a smile. He immediately activated his remote link to the ship's manifest that had been transmitted to him by Prowl. The Blue Autobot before him was familiar from forgotten memories, a time before the war that had been long ago locked away into a sub processor in order to create room for more useful information. As the manifest churned up a match of images Magnus inwardly stiffened.



The historical list was long and detailed. Most of which were classified, which was not surprising given that the occupation of a Ranger was to work behind enemy lines and create paths for the main combat formations through enemy defenses. But given Magnus's security clearance level rivaled that of Prowl and perhaps Optimus, he was given full access to those hidden secrets.

Finally, what seemed like an eternity but in reality only a handful of seconds, Magnus was brought up to date with the soldier before him. His optics narrowed briefly and his expression softened. "Nova Strike is it?"

The Ranger stiffened and stood at attention, as he was now being formally addressed by a flag officer. "Yes Sir. I am Nova Strike. Ranger extrodiare at your service."

"Indeed. By chance or by skill, locating the Longevity's signal is an impressive feet. Finding the Longevity through the sensor screens and other scattering fields being deployed is another." Magnus paused briefly. "I extend my congradulations to you as well. And I appreciate your judgement in relying on the support of others rather than reacting with limited data."

He turned to Bumblebee and smiled briefly before noticing that the smaller mech had fallen into a melancoly state. The larger transformer knelt down and placed a reassuring hand on the spy's shoulder. "Don't feel down Bumblebee." He began slowly, keeping his tone soothing and comforting. "I am sure that you will get that chance. We must keep hope that eventually we will earn our opportunity to see Optimus once more." His voice did not betray his own hope that Optimus was still functional somewhere. He had no real data to the contrary.

"In the meantime, you have a have the support of friends here and throughout the cosmos." He stopped as he looked over to Nova Strike. The Ranger gave a brisk nod.

Ultra Magnus stood and gave a confident and commanding smile to warm over even the tensest moments. "I expect great things from both of you. And I hope that you both can live up to the greater expectations you have for yourselves." With that Magnus gave a firm hand shake to both Nova and Bumblebee. He pivoted on his heel and made the final trek up the stairwell leading towards the commander's office.

As he approached the door his mind wandered briefly. This vessel was assigned to the Protectobots, which meant this office was initially Hotspots. It probably also meant that the room he was about to enter would not be a testiment to Prowl's personal tastes. Which also meant that they were both on an equal footing of discomfort. At least they both will be able to focus on the task at hand.

He reached the threshold of the door and allowed the sensors to confirm his presense. A brief inaudiable sigh escaped his vocorder as he entered into the office and looked at his friends Kup and Prowl. He took a position in one of the chairs in front of a broad titanium desk and smiled as Prowl resumed his current position behind it. The doors closed shut and the security screens were activated automatically. The trio were now secured.

There he waited quietly for the others to begin their debriefing on the current situation around Earth and Cybertron respectively. He needed full first hand accounts of both arenas of the war in order to formulate his own opinions to best serve Prowl's next phase of his command.

Mess Hall

Howlstrike let a slight chuckle slip from his mouth piece as Rodimus admitted that he had no idea where the new Decepticon base was located. “Of course not,” the former Predacon replied with a hint of sarcasm that would be easy for any mech to read, especially a supposed Prime. “So, let’s get down to finding it then, shall we? You promised everyone here action and not more words. Well, all I’ve heard so far is a nice speech to rally your supporters, which you apparently have succeeded in doing. Now, I think it’s time to put up or shut the frag up, wouldn’t you say, Roddy?”

The Autobot hunter’s fanged teeth glistened in the mess hall’s overhead lights as he smiled at the fiery mech that stood tall before him. Howl had no intention of becoming one of Rodimus’ lackeys, but he wasn’t about to leave the former cavalier unchaperoned, either. It was becoming clear that the former Predacon would have to remain with Rodimus and his little group of rebels if for no other reason but to keep a close optic on them. It was no matter as relaying information to Kup could still be achieved via a secured, private comm link, but only when more detailed information on their plans had finally been obtained.

A short distance away at a nearby table, Hardhead sat and listened as more mechs lent their support to Rodimus and his vision for the future of the Autobots. There were two dissenting opinions, of course, one from Howlstrike and the other from the pacifist, Groove. While the small Protectobot had abruptly excused himself, the former Predacon had decided to remain and continue to challenge Rodimus at every turn. Up until now, the war veteran had kept his thoughts on the matter to himself, allowing Rodimus to handle the situation accordingly. However, Howl’s continued sarcastic remarks and belittlement of the former cavalier’s message and intentions had grated on the green warrior’s nerve receptors long enough.

“How about you just shut the frag up and let Rodimus finish speaking?!” Hardhead bellowed as he rose from his table and stalked over to where Howlstrike was standing. “If he didn’t have to defend himself to the likes of you after every sentence then perhaps we’d already be done here and moved on to finding the Decepticon base. Did that every occur to you, Predacon?”

Howlstrike was surprised at the sudden outburst by Hardhead, but it was nothing the Autobot hunter could not handle. “Actually, Hard-aft, it didn’t, but thanks for pointing that out for me. Of course, a real leader would be able to handle a little criticism and still be able to get things done, wouldn’t you say?”

“Just silence your mouthpiece before I silence it for you permanently!” Hardhead warned, not caring about anything the former Predacon had to say.

“I’d love to see you try,” Howlstrike growled back as he stepped in closer, invading the war veteran’s personal space. The two mechs stared directly into each other’s optics, fists clenched at their sides and ready to fly at a moment’s notice. It seemed as though neither would back down, and it would be up to Rodimus or one of the others to step in and prevent violence from erupting between the two.

Corridors/Training Hold

His energon levels were replenished, his optics were fully functional, now all Silverbolt needed was an excuse for something to do while on a vessel that he was a passenger on. It wasn’t so bad, being a passenger. He had no responsibilities or duties to concern himself with. Now if someone would explain to him why other mechs wanted this time off.

Time off. That sounded like a great idea and he immediately felt sorry he didn’t give himself a day off duty along with Slingshot. What else was he supposed to do while on the Guardian? Lost in his own thoughts, Silverbolt’s attention was caught by sounds coming from the training rooms as he was walking by. Out of curiosity, he glanced in and saw Slingshot beating a silicate bag with his visage on it. So much for not taking it personally.

Trying to sound as casual as possible, Silverbolt cleared his vocalizer, “Enjoying your time off.”

Medical Bay- Surgical Suite

It was clear to Hoist that nothing short of the truth would satisfy Ratchet. Truth be told the mechanic didn't think the added information would shed anymore light to his of Ironfist's mechanical needs, and orders were orders. But as the CMO placed his hand on Hoist's shoulder, he knew he wasn't just some mindless automaton who blindly did what he was told. He had his own convictions on what was right and wrong, and Prowl's order had seemed wrong from the beginning.

"I may be sent to the brig or court marshalled for telling you this,", Hoist took a deep breath, "But to the inferno with Prowl's orders! Whatever logical reason he may have, keeping this from everyone will only further splinter us apart."

The mechanic motioned for Ratchet to come in closer, so he could speak as quietly as he could so no one else would hear.

"Ironfist had just come up from the contaminated lower decks, I was inspecting and assembling some new components to be installed in the engine room. Then they walked in...."

Hoist stopped for a moment, looked and listened carefully in case anyone was around to hear. Then he continued.

"Snarl and Swoop. They were telling us to leave, that Prowl was ordering the Dinobots to take the Ark-19 to one of the shipyards for major repairs. Of course neither of us believed this, so Ironfist tried to communicate with Prowl while I tried to stall them. Then things went out of hand; Jazz ran in trying to disable the engines, but Swoop stopped him. Before we knew it Slag came storming in, he grabbed Ironfist by the legs and swung him right at me."

Hoist then pointed to the noticable dent on his cranial chamber.

"Our 'head-on collision'. We were all knocked out, and when we came to we had been tossed into an escape pod and launched from the Ark-19."

Hoist stopped for a moment to let the events he recounted to Ratchet sink in. He would probably regret telling him later, but at least he had a clear conscience now.

"Prowl ordered all of us to keep quiet, if anyone asked we would tell them it had been an official order from Prowl for the Dinobots to take the ship for repairs. But how do you explain someone getting hurt over an official order?"

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

Mess Hall

As the door slid open, Groove stopped in his tracks when he received the message from Rodimus. He slowly turned around to look back at the flame-covered mech, who was still smiling. That eerie feeling in Groove grew even more, as he hurried out the door.

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

Warpath simply let the Protectobot scout leave, as he watched and waited to hear more from Rodimus. Before that happened though, Howlstrike and Hardhead had a heated discussion over Rodimus' plan. That discussion soon turned into an argument, which looked like it was on the way to becoming a metal-fisted fight. Not liking the former Predacon in the first place, much less his current tone, the crimson warrior came over to Hardhead's side.

"WHAM why don't you keep your audio shut, Con!", Warpath threatened, raising his own fist in case Howlstrike got any ideas, "If you don't like what BAM Rodimus has to say, then you can leave! Either shut up of BLAM slag off!"

Meanwhile Saferoute stayed a little away from the fray. She had no love for Predacons, current or former, but fighting right now seemed like a waste. If things got out of hand she would do what she could, but for now she just kept out of the way and waited.

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

Corridor

To say that Groove was disturbed was an understatement. Rodimus' private message repeated in his head as he hurried down the hallway away from the mess hal, trying to make some kind of sense of it.

Did he actually read my mind? Is that even possible? And what was with that last thing he said?

One thing was certain for the scout; he couldn't keep this to himself. Regardless of how friendly and persausive Rodimus seemed to be, so much of what he said just felt wrong. And with some Autobots already following Rodimus' lead, it seemed like things would only get worse. Groove opened a communique to his group commander.

>>Hot Spot? This is Groove. I have something... troubling to report that might need to be brought to Prowl's attention. Can I meet you somewhere to talk? But not the mess hall, it can't be in the mess hall.<<

As Groove waited for a reply, the last words that Rodimus sent him echoed in his databanks.

"Oh, and don’t worry about Hot Rod. He’s still here." What does that even mean?

Bridge

>>“Ranger extraordinaire? Really?”<<

If he was capable, Bumblebee would have rolled his optics hard enough to see the back of the inside of his cranium. The smaller mech looked up to Nova Strike with a smirk on his face and shook his head in disbelief.

Bumblebee had turned attention back down to the floor when Ultra Magnus knelt down in front of him and placed his hand on shoulder. He looked up slowly as the City Commander tried to reassure him that he’d get the chance to speak to Optimus Prime once more. Bumblebee wanted so badly to believe everything Magnus was saying, but he just couldn't be sure Prime was actually still alive. No mech could have survived a blast like the one he was told destroyed the Decepticon base. He couldn’t forget that Megatron was destroyed as well, it should have been a comforting thought, yet it fell short.

“Thanks Magnus. I appreciate your confidence.”

He said nothing of his own. Bumblebee gave the large mech a small nod in agreement that they had support all of their friends spread throughout the cosmos. It was best he could do with Prime on his mind.

The minibot watched Magnus stand to his full height forcing a smile up at the Commander before Magnus left to join Kup and Prowl in Hot Spot’s office. Once he had disappeared into the room and the security screens were in place, Bumblebee shook his head and moved back to the communications terminal.

“You know Nova, suddenly I’m not feeling so confident anymore.”

Mess Hall

Rodimus flashed Howlstrike an understanding smile, but beneath, the creature inhabiting the shell wanted nothing more than to tear the wolf-former’s chestplates open brutally rip out his spark and devour it while the former Decepticon watched. It certainly would be sweet, both in taste and in irony. The thought brought a chuckle to the creature’s weary mind.

The flame covered imposter nodded in agreement. They did need to get started; after all he still had to have a reason to head down to the planet to gather his two remaining heralds. He began to move toward the door when he was stopped by the sound of Hardhead and Howlstrike bickering about the former Predacon’s behavior. This will certainly not do.

Rodimus quickly moved through the gathered mech and stopped when he came between the two riled up Autobots. He placed a hand on either mechs’ chests and pushed them apart.

“Gentlemechs please! There are more important things that must be done than fighting amongst ourselves! Howlstrike, I know you don’t believe me or in me, and I know you told me you would go along with my plans, but this kind of behavior, undermining progress, is simply not helping. You are hindering our attempts to end this war. It’s almost as though you want this bloodshed to continue. I am trying to push us forward and yet you have done nothing but ensure that we…”

Rodimus let his hand slip from Hardhead’s chest as he focused his attention on Howlsrtike alone.

“It’s Prowl, isn’t it? He’s convinced you that letting this war continue will actually hasten its end.”

He didn’t wait for a response instead; Rodimus cast his gaze around the room and addressed those gathered.

“This…this is what I want to stop…it’s what we need to stop! The mechs who wish to continue the battle are afraid that without it they will become useless. They know nothing other than killing! You…”

The orange and red bot pointed to Howlstrike.

“You don’t have to be afraid of the future. There is place for all. But we first must get to that point. You will have a future, Howlstrike…just as we all will.”

Your future, dear Howlstrike, is bathed in blood and suffering. When the time comes you shall be the first.

Rodimus watched the others carefully but spoke with Hardhead and Hex without words or private comm channels. He had no need for them.

My children, you have already performed admirably. But there is still more ground to cover. We must have patience my young ones. Soon…soon the master will call and we will answer. Now we must press on. You both will ensure that the Decepticons’ location it discovered. Attention must be brought to the body of water near the northern part of the East China Sea. They must locate it on their own, and you shall guide them.

Commander’s Office

Prowl waited patiently in Hot Spot’s office as Ultra Magnus greeted those out on the bridge. The black and white had expected as much and was actually quite fine with it. Yes, it did waste valuable time, but such pleasantries were exactly what the crew needed right now and there was no other mech better suited for that kind of thing than the City Commander. Certainly not Prowl as any attempt by him to appear so friendly towards those under his temporary command would just come off as disingenuous. He was the resident prick-bot and would always be viewed that way by his subordinates.

Still, the astroseconds were ticking by and they needed to get down to business. After a few more moments of waiting, Prowl sat down behind the desk as Ultra Magnus entered the command office and took a seat next to Kup and opposite the military strategist’s position. Once the security screens were activated, the interim leader decided to begin the meeting with his debriefing of the current situation.

“Well then let’s get right to it, shall we?” Prowl asked rhetorically as he pulled out a datapad and slid it across the smooth surface of the desk towards Magnus. “Everything you need to know about the current status of things here in the Sol System is laid out in careful detail on that datapad, much more than I can go into verbally. However, I will do my best to sum things up for you, Commander.”

Prowl shifted slightly in his chair before beginning what would likely be a long summary of events. “The turning point here on Sol-3 was the battle at the former Decepticon Earth Base. That’s where we lost Prime and presumably Megatron, as well. While the possible destruction of the slagmaker was certainly cause for celebration, it was all overshadowed by the reality that Optimus was likely destroyed, as well. However, we have no body and therefore I cannot confirm with certainty that he is one with the Allspark. We did attempt a search for him, but were unable to locate any signs of his body. Although, during that same excursion to the ‘Con base, Perceptor was successful in obtaining detailed readings of a strange energy signature that seemed to indicate that the enemy was working on some kind of new, more potent form of energon. Percy was later able to obtain a sample of this new ore and he’s been studying it in his lab ever since.

“After that the Decepticons became desperate. They initiated two simultaneous fuel raids on opposite sides of the globe. Starscream, the likely if not logically successor to Megatron, appeared to be attempting to replenish the energon that was lost when their base detonated. However, it all seemed a bit of an overreaction even for the Seeker Commander. I dispatched two teams to deal with the ‘Cons, but the enemy unfortunately was able to get away with the stolen fuel and we suffered a good deal of casualties. Once I had been debriefed by both Hot Spot and Ironhide regarding their respective missions, it became more clear to me that these raids were meant more to divert our attention and not to simply obtain fuel. Logically, we can conclude that the ‘Cons are attempting to build themselves a new base planet side and were trying to avert our optics away from that objective.”

Prowl paused for a moment to allow all that he had just said to sink in. It was alot to process all at once, but the military strategist was confident that the City Commander was capable of assimilating all of the necessary data in a timely manner. “Of course, when Optimus went missing, I alerted not only you, Magnus, but I also requested for Kup and his group that were stationed on Cybertron to return to the Sol System, as well. Kup can fill you in on the details of their mission, but suffice it to say that Shockwave also returned from our homeworld once news of what had happened reached him. His current whereabouts are unknown.

“Regardless, I have taken temporary command here and have tried to maintain unity the best that I can. Unfortunately, I neither have the presence nor the respect that Optimus had. I have already been challenged by some who think they are better fit to command than I. Grimlock, of course, is one of them. He and his Dinobots give new meaning to the term insubordination and have gone to extreme lengths to show that they can do what they want when they want.” Prowl paused for a moment to consider whether or not he should tell the truth about what happened to the Ark-19. If he truly wanted Ultra Magnus to take the reigns of leadership here, then the City Commander would need to know exactly what happened.

“What I’m about to tell you regarding Grimlock and his brood very few mechs in this sector know. In short, the Dinobots stole the Ark-19 and took it to supposedly get better weapons to fight the ‘Cons with. They unfortunately injured members of the repair crew in the process, but no one was permanently damaged or off-lined. However, Grimlock threatened to reveal the truth about Prime if I were to chase after him. Therefore, I let him go and vowed to deal with his insolence once he arrived back here. Now, I ordered everyone involved to secrecy regarding all this. I didn’t want this to get out and upset the others even more and cause further dissension amongst the ranks.”

Prowl took a deep intake of air and quickly expelled it. He looked to Magnus as the City Commander continued to listen. “I know it was wrong to lie to fellow Autobots, but I didn’t see any other way to keep things together for the time being. Grimlock’s not the only one who thinks he’s got what it takes to replace Optimus. Hot Rod, or Rodimus as he now goes by, underwent some kind of weird transformation while up on Cybertron. He’s bigger and stronger, showing more confidence than I ever saw before in the cavalier. I had him sent down to the med bay to have a series of tests run on him, but Ratchet was so busy fixing Axle and the others from the duel missions that those tests never happened. If Rodimus found out about Grimlock’s actions, he would possibly use it to rationalize his own leadership ambitions in the optics of the others. I fear a fracture within our ranks, Magnus, one that could rip us apart and give the Decepticons the perfect opportunity to win this war.”

Prowl looked away from Ultra Magnus and peered across the room to the far wall, rubbing his chin plate with his right hand. “You know, I’m not really the right mech for this job. I can make strategic battlefield decisions, but I don’t have the personality or charisma that’s needed to be the new Autobot leader, to bring everyone back together and give them hope again. I just can’t do that.” The black and white then brought his gaze back to the City Commander. “But you can, Magnus. You have all those qualities I just outlined and so much more. I know that you don’t think you’re worthy of such a position of power, but I believe you are wrong my friend. After watching how you dealt with everyone out there on the bridge I’m more certain than ever that I’m right about this. At least consider what I am saying. The Autobots need someone like you right now. Even if you only accept command of this sector for now, it would go a long way in uniting us together and forming a strong front against the Decepticons. You have it in you, Magnus, I know it for a fact. You just have to believe in yourself!”

Prowl grew silent, looking over at Kup for any support the old timer could lend. The black and while hoped that his little speech at the end of his briefing would be enough to convince Ultra Magnus that his command presence was required to keep the Autobot war machine rolling forward, especially in the Sol System. The City Commander would likely not accept leadership of the entirety of the Autobot forces, but at least taking the reigns here would be a good start and allow the military strategist to get back to doing what he did best, plotting behind the scenes.

Mess Hall

Howlstrike and Hardhead continued to stare each other down, neither giving an inch. It wasn’t until the approach of Warpath that Howl’s attention finally shifted away from the war veteran and over to the crimson tank-former. “Mind your business, Bam-bot! This is between myself and Hard-aft.” The hunter then looked back at Hardhead and gave him a smirk. “Unless, of course, you can’t handle me all by yourself.”

The green soldier’s anger had swelled to extreme levels by this point, but he maintained control of himself especially once Rodimus had pushed his way through the crowd and placed either hand on the chest plates of both Howlstrike and Hardhead, forcing them apart. The flame-covered mech then admonished the pair, but kept most of his words aimed squarely at the former Predacon, accusing him of wanting to continue the fighting in order to remain useful. “That’s ridiculous, I...”

Howlstrike’s words trailed off as he considered what Rodimus had just suggested. Could it be that the real reason the tracker was so against the former cavalier was because he feared a future where the war no longer raged? Certainly that was a possibility regardless of whether he was an Autobot or still a Decepticon, but Howl had not really thought about it in any great detail until now. What does a warrior do once the war is no more? It was an age old question, one that the hunter thought would never transpire for real since the Great War had gone on with no end in sight. Howl just never thought it could happen.

Howlstrike was pulled out of his thoughts as Rodimus pointed directly at him and promised that he would have a post-war future. The former Predacon looked back into the fiery mech’s optics and felt a slight sense of hope. However, there was still something amiss here as if the real reason was so that Rodimus could simply take power for himself. However, if Howl was going to keep an optic on this little revolution in the making, he would have to at least get along with those around him and that meant playing the part.

“Fine,” Howlstrike finally said once things had begun to calm down. “Perhaps you have a point, Rodimus. Maybe I am afraid of the future, but my concerns here and now are still valid. I will follow your lead and see where it goes. If I don’t like the outcome then I will do what I must.” The former Predacon then looked back to both Hardhead and Warpath. “My apologies. Sometimes my anger gets the better of me.”

Hardhead had allowed the remaining aggression that was within him to subside when Rodimus spoke of the future, one free of the Decepticons. His point regarding Howlstrike and those like him was well made and the green soldier agreed whole heartedly. His own anger towards the former Predacon was all but gone as he could now relate to the wolf-former in a very unexpected way. “Apology accepted, Howlstrike. You know, you and I are more alike then you realize. We are both warriors who have fought this endless war for so long that we couldn’t imagine life without a weapon in our hands. However, there is a place for us in the future. We just need to trust in Rodimus.”

Hardhead let a grin spread across his faceplate as he placed a gentle hand on Howlstrike’s shoulder, the former Predacon accepting the gesture with a simple nod. The war veteran then quickly removed his hand and regarded Rodimus as the flame-covered ‘Prime’ addressed him, not with words or over a comm line, but with mere thoughts. At first, a perplexed Hardhead found what he was experiencing to be a bit strange, but then something inside him changed and he suddenly accepted this method of communicating to be as normal as drinking synthetic energon. The green warrior’s expression became one of understanding and compliance as his mind became linked with the faux Autobot in a way that no one else could begin to understand. Once Hardhead had absorbed everything that Rodimus had “spoken” to him, the loyal soldier responded in kind.

Understood, my lord. It will be done.