"Forgive me, father, for I have sinned."
– beginning for Catholic confession

Ironhide closed his optics and groaned, his head banging slightly against the wall. This wasn't happening. It just couldn't be. Primus willing, it'd all turn out to be some bad joke someone had decided to play. Hearing the soft sigh next to him, however, told him that it wasn't. No one would play a joke this cruel.

He, along with Jazz, Prowl, and Perceptor, sat in a holding cell, accused of an attempted assassination on Optimus Prime . . .

Begin Flashback

"Ironhide, status report."

As soon as the command had been given, the red Mech typed a few things into the console then turned to face his leader. He was the last one to report in.

"We're green across the board, Prime."

"All right then," Optimus nodded. "It looks like we're ready to go. Prowl, take us out of here."

"Will do, Prime."

Ironhide turned to face his monitor and leaned back in his seat. The ride was nowhere near as smooth as it could have been if they'd had Omega Supreme with them, but the giant Autobot had already been dispatched on another mission when this came up. And the only ones who knew why they were leaving were he and Prime.

'Here's hoping he locates Sky Lynx,' Ironhide thought idly as the shuttle left Earth's atmosphere. Once they were clear and passing the Earth's moon, Prime gave the okay for everyone to walk about freely. Jazz and Prowl made their way over to him.

"So what's this all about, Ironhide?" Jazz whispered. "Why this crew? Why this destination?"

The "crew" that Jazz referred to, of course, consisted of them, Prime, Perceptor, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Mirage and Windcharger, and their destination was one of Jupiter's moons. Prime had been specific when he'd chosen which Autobots were going . . . and which ones stayed on Earth. Ultra Magnus, one of the new arrivals from Cybertron, had been placed in command.

"Can't say," he shook his head. "Prime's already decided to wait until we get to where we're going before he says anything."

"Must be serious, especially if he has the three of us with him," Prowl observed. To that, Ironhide nodded.

"Yeah. Very serious."

They talked quietly for a few minutes before returning to their stations. After Jazz and Prowl had left, Prime approached him.

"I've never seen the three of you interact like that," he stated quietly. "How long have you known them, Ironhide?"

"Long time," Ironhide slowly admitted. "Just like I've known Chromia, Ratchet, and Kup for a very long time. Been through a lot of rough times with them. I don't think I would have survived as well as I have if they hadn't been there."

"And here I thought I've heard every story you've had to tell," Prime commented. "I've never heard you talk like that before. Is there something you haven't told me?"

"There's . . . a few things," Ironhide murmured. Prime rested a hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Must have been really bad for you not to tell it to anyone, especially me . . ."

"It isn't anything personal against you," Ironhide began.

"I know," Prime interjected. "Just like I know that, when you're ready, you'll tell me. I won't pass judgment on you, Ironhide. You're one of the few people that I can really trust."

"And you're one of the few that I can trust . . ."

"Prime, I'm getting a proximity alert!" Windcharger called out, interrupting any further conversation.

"What? We can't be there already."

"Checking it now, Prime," Jazz stated. The ship started to shake, as if they were hitting an air current. "That's a negative, Prime. It looks like we're heading into an asteroid field. An uncharted one, at that."

"I thought we had the space between Earth and Cybertron charted." Ironhide heard the frown in Prime's voice.

"We do," Prowl affirmed.

"Then how did we miss this?" Optimus demanded.

"We didn't," Perceptor finally piped in. "I just ran some scans. There's an unusual energy source surrounding the field . . . It may very well be a hologram of some kind."

"Is it possible we could blast it?" Ironhide inquired. "Make sure that we can go through?"

"It's possible . . ." Perceptor trailed off.

"We'll try it," Prime stated. "Sideswipe, I want a low impact energy beam shot directly through the asteroid field. If it doesn't hit anything, Prowl, I want you to take us through it."

"And if it does hit something?"

"Then we slowly weave our way through it, taking out only the asteroids that are in our way or come towards us."

"Will do . . ."

The shuttle lurched forward at that moment as blast after blast hit it . . .

888888888

"What are you doing?" came the harsh demand.

"We had a proximity alert. An Autobot shuttle was approaching."

"What! And you're firing at them!"

"Of course," came the cool reply. "It was the only way to keep them from discovering us."

"You fool!" the bulky male hissed. "They're our own!"

"So?"

"So! So by firing on them, you've let them know that we're here!"

"Relax. They'll be dust in no time."

A frustrated growl filled the command center.

"Did you even bother to see who might be on board that shuttle?"

"Sure did. There's nine of them. Optimus Prime, Ironhide, Prowl, Jazz, Perceptor, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Mirage, and Windcharger."

"Optimus Prime . . ."

End Flashback

Ironhide knew that he'd heard voice talking, voices that weren't from his comrades on the shuttle but were still familiar somehow. How he'd been able to hear them and why, he hadn't been able to figure out, but he had a guess that Jazz, Prowl, and Perceptor had heard them, too, because the four of them had rushed to Prime. To protect him.

Instead, Prime had nearly ended up on his deathbed. They'd had to rush back to Earth so Ratchet could save him. Once Prime had been placed in Repair Bay, Magnus had ordered them to be placed in custody, and stripped them of their rank. Apparently, to the other four members of the crew, it looked like they were trying to kill Prime.

'So here we sit,' Ironhide sighed, opening his optics. 'The four of us in the same cell yet unable to talk to each other, thanks Magnus putting a gag order on us. Primus, what the slag is he thinking? And who the hell were those Autobots that attacked us? Why did they sound so familiar?'

To those questions, he had no answers.

Such a long fall from grace.