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Even bigger thanks to my beta, LadyAnatar. ^.^

Chapter 7

In Which an Announcement is Made and a Base is Destroyed

The Prime spent most of the day dozing in Jazz's berth. Ironhide had come in once to check on his leader, and he hadn't been in much better condition. He brought word that most of the base was in a similar state, including the Prime's other guards (who Optimus called right away to tell them they had the orn off) and that most mechs had been put on leave until later that night, when Optimus was scheduled to make his announcement.

A joor before the announcement was scheduled (Prowl had pinged him the time), Optimus forced himself out of the berth, helm-ache mostly gone, and straggled down to Prowl's office. The base commander should be alerted to the contents of the announcement before said announcement. It was unbecoming of a commander to be unaware of what was happening in his base.

Smiling under his facemask, the Prime mused what the mechs' reactions would be. Some, he knew, would be happy. He could tell that, while everyone was content here, not all were happy. Some would absolutely hate it. Red Alert was the main example for that school of thought. The Prime had not spent much time with the Security Director, but he could tell that the red and white mech was attached to his base, and the security network it contained.

They would all be stunned, though.

By then he was at Prowl's office's door, and he pinged for entrance. The door whooshed open, and he stepped in.

Then froze.

Prowl was working diligently at a datapad, scribbling away with a stylus. He looked up at the Prime's arrival. "Hello, sir," he said, then returned to the datapad.

That wasn't what stopped Optimus, though.

Lounging across the tactician's desk like he owned it was a sleek sliver saboteur. Jazz's visor was dim, and his engine was purring like a cybercat. He grinned up at the Prime, visor brightening. "'Sup?" he asked, before letting his visor dim and helm fall back to the desk.

"I... I..."

Prowl looked back up at the stuttering Autobot Commander. "Jazz is my bondmate. He enjoys laying on my desk, though I do not know why, considering he has a perfectly usable berth in our quarters."

"But Ah told ya, Prowler. Th' Prime was in our berth! 'S why we stayed here overnight."

"Nevertheless, there are plenty of other places you can relax, Jazz."

"Yeah, but none've 'em've got such a good view."

Prowl just glared down at the saboteur before turning back to Optimus. "Can I help you, Prime?"

"I... Uh... Yes, actually. I wished to inform you of the matter of my announcement."

"Ah, yes. I apologize that you were unable to make it last night."

"It is okay, Prowl. This, at least, allows me to tell you what to expect."

"Yes, sir, it does," the base commander said, setting the datapad down. Jazz's visor brightened, and he turned slightly to look at the Prime.

"Prowl, do you remember when I first got here, and I told you this was not just a routine inspection?"

"Yes, I do remember."

The Prime vented. "Many of Sentinel Prime's command element were killed in the same explosion that deactivated him. I have been looking for replacements. A time ago, I came across this base's record, and I remembered it when the issue of commanders came up in a discussion between myself and Ironhide.

"Prowl, I wish this entire base to come back to Cybertron and become those who staff the main base of operations, and I wish you to become my Second in Command."

Prowl stared. Jazz gaped. The Prime looked on hopefully.

Then there was a pop! and a thin stream of smoke trickled from Prowl's helm. His optics went white, then black, and he fell forward. Jazz snapped out of his stupor in time to keep the tactician's chevron from crashing into the table.

Optimus Prime was stunned as well, but for a slightly different reason. "Oh, Primus, what happened?"

"Nothin' major, Prime, relax. His battle computer 'n logic circuits are a bit sensitive. He jus' wasn' 'spectin' that. Heck, I wasn' either. You're tellin' th' truth?"

Slightly amused, the Prime smiled under his battle mask as he stepped forward to help hold the base commander up. "Do I look to be one to tell jokes such as that? And... what should we do for Prowl?"

"Nothin'. He'll come outta it 'n a mo'."

And, as though prompted by his bondmate's words, Prowl groaned and lifted a hand to his chevron. "What happened?"

"I... broke some startling news. I apologize, Prowl."

The tactician sat up, and the two mechs previously supporting him stepped away. "You can tell me. I will not crash this time."

Shooting a curious glance at the saboteur, the Prime frowned. Jazz answered his unspoken question. "Th' news won' make him crash 'gain. Fer most things, 't only happ'ns once. Then he's good."

"Very well. Prowl, I wish for you and your mechs to come and serve me in Iacon, and I want you to be my Second."

Prowl's optics went a little white, but he did not crash again. After a few breems and a few blinks, the tactician nodded. "Very well. When do you want us in Iacon?"

The Prime smiled. "As soon as possible."

"Of course. I will order the mechs to pack up after your announcement, and we will leave with you."

"You are ready to leave? That quickly?"

Prowl shrugged. "For a very long time, there were no Decepticons anywhere near this sector. The mechs were getting... jittery. So I set them to building interstellar shuttles."

Optimus blinked and Jazz giggled. "Those were interestin' groons. Everyone runnin' 'round with supplies 'n directions... Heh. Sideswipe even stopped prankin' fer a while."

"Indeed. Well, Prime, the mechs will be assembling soon. Do you wish to proceed to the Rec Room?"

"I do."

. . .oOo.

Chaos broke out after the Prime's announcement. A few mechs jumped up and immediately protested (Red Alert among them, the Prime was amused to notice). A few other mechs stood and immediately countered those protesting, their glee at the prospect of returning to Cybertron obvious. Others sat, stunned. Others still turned to their neighbors and started talking and gesturing wildly, either excited to be going home or angry at the idea of leaving what had become home.

Then Prowl let out a blast of white noise over everyone's comms. The bots in the room flinched, then shifted uncomfortably and turned to the base commander.

"Everyone, I know this is unexpected. I know it is surprising. However, the Prime, and Cybertron, need us. We have proven stronger than our commanders believed. We have proven to be better than Sentinel Prime thought us to be. Now, the new Prime, Optimus, is willing to believe what his predecessor did not. He is willing to give us a chance where we will be able to really make a difference. We have not been able to do much while stuck out here. Now we have been handed the opportunity to go back to Cybertron, our home, and prove that we can do something. That we are worth what Sentinel did not believe us to be worth. I do not know about you, but I intend to take this chance offered and go with it as far as I can." Prowl turned from the now silent crowd and knelt in front of Optimus. The Prime shifted nervously, still uncomfortable with the subservient attitude most mechs presented him.

"Prime. I swore my allegiance to your predecessor. By all technicalities, it transfers on to you. However, presented the opportunity, I would like to confirm what I swore to Sentinel. Optimus Prime, I, Prowl, swear to serve and protect you and your beliefs with my spark. I swear myself to the Autobot cause, and all we stand for. Until all are one."

With that, Prowl stood. "Mechs, pack your belongings. We are going to put those shuttles to good use. We're going home."

The tactician left the room, but the cheers and whoops that followed him echoed through the whole base. The few mechs still nervous no longer protested.

Every mech in the room followed Prowl's example, even Ironhide and the other guards, all of them re-swearing themselves to the Prime, making said Prime very uncomfortable, grateful, and rather proud of his mechs.

After that, everyone wandered to their rooms, chatting and smiling, to pack their things and get their shuttle assignments. Prowl commed Wheeljack, Perceptor, Hoist, Grapple, and Jazz and told them to set charges before they left, set so that no bit of the base would remain once they had gone. They did so, after clearing out their rooms. Everything personal or valuable was packed onto the three large shuttles sitting on a covered landing pad, and the mechs settled in for their last night on base.

Almost half way through the recharge cycle, Prowl found Optimus Prime gazing out a large viewing window at the rocky, scorched landscape of the small moon.

"Am I asking too much of you, Prowl?" the Prime asked softly. "To come to chaos and leave this peace behind?"

Prowl gave a small ghost of a smile. "It is our home, too, Prime. We want a chance to defend it. All of us, even those who protested."

"You... are you sure?"

"Very. Do not worry yourself. We all did sign up as Autobots. We were not sent here of our own will. We wish to fight."

"I hope you are right, Prowl."

"I am."

. . .oOo.

The shuttles launched early the next orn. The deserted base was detonated behind them, leaving nothing but a black mark on the moon's surface.

The voyage took two orns. By the time Cybertron came into view, everyone was ready to get off the shuttles. As big as they were, the mechs were used to having a whole base to loiter in, and a whole moon to race over. The fliers were especially jittery, unused to being confined in such a small space. Add to that the fact that the mechs were split between three shuttles, and friends had been split up, mechs had had quite enough of space travel.

But staring at their home planet out of the viewscreen in the control deck of the largest shuttle, the Prime couldn't help but grin. Prowl was at his right. Jazz was at his left. He had three ships of loyal mechs, ready to kick some Decepticon aft.

He was ready to take up the fight.

The 'Cons wouldn't know what hit them.

And so we come to the end! ... Though, if the bunnies bite, I might write a sequel. No promises, though.