Chapter 13 -- Humans

Ravage bolted from the airlock and into the Nemesis, dripping wet and tendrils of seaweed caught in his joints and dangling from his ears and missiles. Hissing in distaste, he gave himself a vigorous shake like a wet turbohound, sending droplets of salt spray and scraps of vegetable matter flying in every direction. No one bothered to snap at the cassette-panther for the action -- everyone was just as wet and filthy, and whatever contribution Ravage had made to their state didn't make too much difference.

Thundercracker stepped through the airlock right after Ravage, the last to enter the base. "Any luck?"

Ravage growled and shook his head.

"Nothing in our quadrant," Blast Off added, looking up from scraping sand out of his ankle joints. "That's the difficulty of water searches -- it's not like anything leaves a trail."

"Found a few chunks of organic gunk in our sector, but nothing cybernetic," Skywarp put in, and he opened his cockpit to dump out copious quantities of water, soggy sand, and a handful of flopping fish. "Ewww, nasty... I'm gonna have to scrub for a week..."

Thundercracker whirled to face Starscream and the coneheads, the other members of Skywarp's team. Thrust, Dirge, and Ramjet just shook their heads. Starscream scowled, but copied the maneuver.

"What about the Constructicons or the Stunticons?" asked Thundercracker, wincing at the hysterical edge to his voice and struggling to tone it down. "Or Megatron and the triple changers? Have they reported in yet?"

"The Constructicons returned over an hour ago," Starscream informed him crisply. "Someone needed to watch the base, after all. No sense leaving ourselves vulnerable to attack for the sake of a spark-brat..."

"The Stunticons are still out there," Skywarp assured him. "Said they found some underwater caves and figured she might be hiding in them. No word on Megatron's team."

Thundercracker gripped both sides of his helm, fighting to stay calm. Panic would do Glory no good now. He had to keep a cool CPU, had to focus... Glory was out there somewhere, and the only thing to do was to keep searching for her...

"TC, calm down," Skywarp assured him, patting his shoulder. "I'll bet she's just out there playing around, having the time of her life, and she'll come back inside when she gets bored. Hope she doesn't mind getting grounded for the next orn..."

"I don't know," Thundercracker replied, shaking his head. "I just have this terrible feeling... that something's happened to her..."

The airlock hissed open again, admitting Megatron, Astrotrain, and Blitzwing. Thundercracker opened his mouth to ask if they had found anything... and left it hanging open in shock when he spotted Wildfire lying limply in Astrotrain's arms. The mangled, offline mech was missing one arm, and his remaining limbs bore deep dents and slashes. His optics, dull gray and lifeless, stared blankly from a face contorted in profound rage. Strings of plant matter hung from his joints, and a mixture of water and other fluids dripped from his wounds. Skywarp made a sickening sound in his throat tubing as if he were about to lose the contents of his fuel tank.

"Oh Primus," groaned Swindle, averting his gaze.

"Where did you find..." began Thundercracker, unable to take his gaze off of the mauled horse-former.

"Next to the remains of a giant squid in the southeast quadrant," Megatron replied brusquely. "No sign of the femme."

Thundercracker's systems kicked into higher gear in response to the terror that gripped his spark. If Glory and Wildfire had come across something powerful enough to overwhelm the bodyguard, then there was no telling what kind of shape she was in. Had her body drifted away in a current, never to be seen again? Had some ocean behemouth made off with her? Was she hiding somewhere, injured and terrified, waiting for someone to rescue her? Possibilities built up in his CPU, each worse than the last...

He forced his air cycling to remain steady, a task that he only managed with difficulty. "I'll go back to those coordinates with Skywarp and..."

Megatron raised his hand, cutting the blue Seeker off. "Decepticons, return to your stations!"

"What?!" demanded Thundercracker. "But she's still out there! She could be hiding, she could be damaged badly..."

"Those are my orders, Thundercracker!" Megatron barked, glowering. "We cannot afford to waste precious time and energy on one Decepticon. All soldiers are to return to their duties. The Stunticons will continue their search until 2200 hours, after which a second team will relieve them of their task. If she is not found within a week, we end the search."

"But sir..." he persisted.

"Thundercracker," Megatron cut in, lowering his voice to a warning growl, "your niece she may be. But you are a Decepticon soldier, and the cause must come before all else. And if we are unable to locate her within a week... then we will simply be wasting our resources searching for a dead mechanism."

Thundercracker met Megatron's gaze, struggling to form an answer. The thought of giving up the search after any amount of time, of simply abandoning Glory to whatever fate had overtaken her, was enough to make his spark ache. "Sir... I'll search for her on my own time..."

Megatron's hand curled into a fist, the knuckle joints creaking ominously. "Do NOT defy me, Thundercracker. That is your only warning." And he stalked off. Astrotrain stared after him, a look of dull surprise on his face, then trudged off in the direction of repair bay, looking at the battered mech in his arms as if it were something foul.

It took a few moments for Skywarp to respond. "TC, we'll find her before the week's over. Don't worry so much."

Swindle opened and shut his mouth a few times before daring to speak. "I... I'm sorry... I should have kept a closer optic on her..."

Thundercracker didn't even have the energy to respond to either of them. He simply turned and walked away, his CPU heavy with worry and despair. If Glory wasn't found soon... if the Stunticons came across her deactivated body...

He paused at the door of his quarters, then shook his head and walked on. He couldn't go in there right now. The room was strewn with Glory's possessions -- it would only be a painful reminder of what was going on.

If the week goes by with no sign of her, do I dare disobey Megatron? he thought. Is it worth risking my place among his forces -- or my life -- to search for her against his command?

Break

The faint creak of wheels was the only sound that drifted through the corridor as Chip Chase made his way through the Ark. On a normal day he would have had a companion by his side -- Spike, perhaps, or Carly or even Prowl if he was off-duty at the moment. But these were abnormal circumstances to say the very least, and for some reason the hallways of the Autobot base seemed even more oversized and lonely without company close by. The fact that Grapple had powered down the lights for the evening to conserve energy didn't exactly help matters.

Two days had passed since Seaspray had brought the injured sparkling into the base, and in all that time she still hadn't emerged from the vent where she had taken refuge. Optimus Prime had ordered this hallway closed to all but guards and authorized personnel until the issue of the sparkling was resolved somehow. It made navigating the base tricky, and more than one mech had complained about having to find alternate routes, but Prime reasoned that the fewer Autobots in the femme's vicinity, the better. He hoped that eventually the femme would calm down enough to leave her hiding place, and that perhaps with only one or two Autobots around she would gradually realize that they meant her no harm. Once they had progressed that far... what to do next was still being debated among the officers.

It had taken a great deal of haggling on Chip's part for him to be allowed in this area -- Prowl was concerned that the young scientist's safety might be compromised. Sparkling or not, this was still a Decepticon, and who knew exactly what her guardians had taught her to think of humans? But Chip had been insistent, arguing that he had a theory on how to draw the femme out of hiding, and that if he found himself in any danger he would contact them for help immediately. In the end, they had relented once Chip reluctantly agreed to keep a guard present just in case.

As he steered himself around the corner Chip caught sight of this shift's guards, Bumblebee and Warpath. The yellow Volkswagon was seated cross-legged on one side of the air vent where the Decepticon femme was hiding, occasionally turning his head to peer inside. Warpath stood at attention on the other side, fidgiting slightly from time to time. Off to one side sat a small energon cube, giving off a slight glow in the dim light.

"Still no luck?" asked Chip.

Bumblebee turned and offered Chip a sheepish smile. "She almost came out once, but Warpath startled her back into hiding."

"BAM! Like it's my fault!" huffed Warpath. "She ZAM! surprised me!"

"Maybe if you toned your volume down a bit..." Bumblebee suggested.

"Guys, why don't you take a break?" suggested Chip. "I'll take over your shift."

Bumblebee stared at Chip as if he'd suddenly announced he was going to go fight Starscream single-handedly. "Um... no offense, Chip, but..."

Chip laughed. "I won't be able to catch her if she runs for it? Don't worry, even if she does bolt I don't think she'll get far. And I have protection."

"POW! I could use a break," Warpath huffed, turning to go. "BANG! Thanks, Chip!"

"No problem, Warpath," Chip replied, waving at the tank-former.

"Give us a call if you need anything," Bumblebee added, and he picked up the cube and handed it to Chip. "Keep that handy, she's going to need it. She hasn't refueled yet."

Chip watched the two minibots go, then steadied the cube in his lap -- it was slightly larger than a microwave oven, but thankfully not heavy -- and pushed himself forward to the air vent. It would have been on eye level with a standing human, but from his seated position he couldn't see inside. He could still hear her, however, scraping and shifting around as if trying to get comfortable, occasionally sniffing or whimpering. Poor thing, she was probably sick with fear and energon depletion by now. If only he could reach her and assure her that she was perfectly safe here...

Music burst briefly from the bag hanging off the back of his wheelchair, and he reached back and patted it just to assure Blaster he hadn't forgotten about him. If the sparkling tried to attack him, the tape deck would be right there to protect him, but for now he hoped it wouldn't come to that. It was his hope that Cybertronian children, like human children, were naturally curious, and that he could use that curiosity to gain her trust.

Time to test the theory and attempt to establish contact, he supposed. "Hello there!"

A gasp echoed from inside the shaft.

"Don't be afraid. My name's Chip, and I just want to talk."

No reply. Chip cleared his throat and tried talking again. "I have some energy for you. And I wouldn't mind seeing you. I've never seen a sparkling before."

Silence. Then a prolonged scrape of metal on metal as she dragged herself forward. Chip backed his wheelchair up slightly as a head emerged from the vent -- purple-helmed, with a smooth silver face streaked with optical cleaning fluid, and enormous ruby optics that blazed with fear. She stared at him, some of the terror melting from her expression and replaced with confusion... and just a hint of interest. Good, good so far...

"I'm a human," he said by way of explanation. "Don't be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you." He carefully patted the cube. "I've got something for you."

She continued to stare, her gaze moving from him to the cube, then back to him. Her expression was torn between longing and fear -- she wanted the energy, but she didn't want to take it from him.

"It's okay, it's for you," he assured her. "I won't mind at all if you take it."

For a moment it looked as if she would refuse the cube. Then her hand darted out from the opening, snatching the cube from his lap, and she scooted backward out of sight. Well, that was a start, he supposed...

"Anything goin' down yet?" asked Blaster softly.

"She accepted the energy," Chip replied quietly. "It's a good start."

"We don't need a good start, we need her out of there," complained Blaster, voice edgy with irritation.

"If you're bored, find some way to entertain yourself," suggested Chip. "Play a song or something."

"That's the best idea you've had all day, kid," Blaster replied cheerily, and a loud techno tune blared through the hall. The femme gave a frightened squeal.

"Something a little quieter!" Chip ordered over the music, pressing his hands to his ears. "You're scaring her!"

"You're no fun," Blaster retorted, and the raucous music cut to something too quiet for Chip to hear with his hands still over his ears. "This quiet enough for you?"

Chip lowered his hands. A mellow piano ballad now drifted through the hall, and he recognized it as one of Elton John's classics. "That's better," he assured the tape deck, and turned back to the air vent.

The sparkling hovered just at the opening of the vent, still staring at Chip. Energon smeared her mouth plates, but she seemed oblivious to the mess she'd made while refueling. All her attention was focused on Chip now, and her expression, while still fearful, was full of wonder.

Chip gave what he hoped came across as a friendly smile. "Hi again."

She opened her mouth once or twice, as if trying to reboot her vocalizer. "That's my song," she said, her voice high and quiet.

"Your song?" he repeated, briefly puzzled. Then he nodded in understanding. "Oh, 'Your Song.'"

She nodded. "Uh-huh. It's my song."

"Actually, that's just the title of the song. The man who wrote it named it 'Your Song.'"

She shook her head insistently. "It's my song. Uncle T sings it to me. It's mine." She spoke quietly, timidly, but there was a defiant edge to her voice.

"Dude, she's speaking to you," Blaster whispered, awed.

Let's just hope we can keep this up, Chip prayed, mentally crossing his fingers before speaking again. "My name's Chip. Chip Chase. What's yours?"

The sparkling hesitated, then spoke so quietly Chip had to strain to hear. "Glory."

"Glory," he repeated. "That's a pretty name."

Glory watched him quietly for a moment longer before speaking again. "I want Uncle T."

"Who's Uncle T?"

She shrank back. "I'm not supposed to talk to you."

"Did they tell you that you're not supposed to talk to Autobots?"

She nodded.

"Well," Chip began, feeling somewhat guilty for pointing out technicalities but knowing it was his best hope for drawing her out, "I'm not an Autobot, am I? I'm a human, and humans can't be Autobots. So you can talk to me."

"Oh." Glory thought about that a moment, then poked her head a little farther out and looked up and down the corridor. Once she was satisfied that they were alone, she turned her attention back to Chip. "I wanna go home."

"Where's home?"

"With Uncle T on the Nemesis," she replied, and fresh optic fluid dripped down one cheek. "I didn't mean to get in trouble, honest... I just wanted to play outside... and then the sharks came and..."

"Hey Glory, it's all right," Chip consoled. "You're safe here with me. I promise."

"W-w-what about the Autobots? If I come out, they'll get me!"

"I promise you that won't happen if you're with me," Chip assured her.

She scanned the hallway again, then slowly clambered out of the vent. Chip gave a low whistle once she had emerged and stood to her full height. Child or not, she was still Cybertronian, which meant she towered over him. She was easily nine feet tall, maybe ten, and despite lacking the bulk of a fighting mech he knew she could still easily overpower any human. He was going to have to be cautious now...

"Do you want to come with me?" he invited. "I know a place you can stay where there's no Autobots."

"Can't I go home?" she whined. "I'm scared of this place. I want Uncle T. I want 'Warp and Rumble and Frenzy and Wildfire..."

"We'll work on getting you home," Chip said soothingly. "But for now, let's find you someplace to rest and refuel a little more, okay?"

She didn't seem so sure about that, but she did nod in agreement, and when Chip wheeled on down the corridor he could hear her footsteps trailing behind. So far, so good... now to make sure their good luck wouldn't be jinxed.

"Optimus Prime," he whispered into the radio receiver clipped to his jacket, "I've got the femme. I'm taking her to the lounge on Level Four. Can you make sure we have a clear path there and that no Autobots are in the room once we get there?"

"We'll arrange it immediately," Prime replied. "Good work, Chip. Continue to keep us updated."

"Yes sir. I got a name out of her, by the way -- Glory."

"We'll run that through Teletraan-1 and see if anything comes up," Prime informed him. "In the meantime, see if you can keep her calm and under control."

"Yes sir. If I may ask... has any decision been made regarding her yet?"

"We will inform you when one is made." In a low voice that indicated he was probably talking to himself, he added "Whatever it is, I just hope it's the right decision. For everyone."

Break

As Glory followed the strange wheeled human through the halls, she folded her arms across her chest and hugged herself tightly, her optics flicking toward every doorway and side hall. She half-expected an Autobot to come bursting out of hiding and grab her, or for laser blasts to come shrieking toward her. All the tales Kickback and Bombshell had told her, all the stories she'd eavesdropped on in the break room, kept rearing up in her processor and making her shake with fear. And the half-forgotten memories of the labs kept threatening to break free as well...

But the human was nice, at least. And while Thundercracker and Megatron and Onslaught had lectured her time and again on the dangers of the Autobots, they had never said anything about humans being a threat. When the creatures were brought up by any soldier, it was either with haughty disdain or simple humor. Many mechs felt free to sample their culture -- video games, movies, books, and music -- and Swindle dealt with them on a regular basis in his business ventures. Glory had never regarded the humans as anything other than a curiosity, and certainly never as something frightening and dangerous.

So despite the fear burning away at her systems, she couldn't help but be a little intrigued by this creature that called himself Chip... and her curiosity served to dispell that fear just a little.

Chip steered himself toward an open doorway and motioned for her to follow. "Don't worry, there's only humans in here. And we don't bite."

She hesitated, then followed him inside. This room looked like the break room at the Decepticon base, only a little smaller, and had the same orange walls and ceiling as the medical bay and hallways. A large, well-worn bench stood before a blank vidscreen, and a few chairs were stacked in one corner. In another corner was a much smaller table, and sitting at it were three more humans deep in some kind of discussion -- two mechs and a femme, from the look of it. Though she wasn't sure if "mechs" and "femmes" were the right words, but then, Swindle hadn't had time to teach her about humans...

The younger "mech" glanced up, spotting her, and a stunned expression crossed his face.

"It's all right, she's with me," Chip assured him. "Glory, these are my friends -- Spike, Sparkplug, and Carly."

Glory ducked her head low and waved shyly.

"Aw, she's adorable!" the "femme" gushed, smiling warmly. "Look at those big eyes..."

"Optics, Carly," the younger "mech" corrected.

"Technicalities, Spike," she huffed, lightly punching his shoulder before turning back to Glory. "Come sit down! I've never seen such a little Cybertronian before!"

"Don't crowd her too much, Carly," Sparkplug advised. "She's had a rough time of it here."

Glory edged a little closer before sitting down on the floor, not taking her optics off the humans. Chip steered himself up to the table, and Spike scooted his chair over to make room for him.

"Glory's a little scared of the Autobots," Chip informed the others. "She's afraid they'll get her if she's out in the halls."

"Aw, the Autobots wouldn't hurt you," Spike assured her. "They're some of the nicest people I know. Take Bumblebee, for instance..."

Glory pulled her knees to her chest, hugging her legs against her. "B-b-but they hurt Uncle T," she protested. "They chased me and chased me and the big red one tried to grab me... they blew up the lab where Mommy and Daddy worked and..." Tears began building up in her optics, and she ducked her head to keep the humans from noticing.

"Aw hell," muttered Sparkplug. "The poor thing's been traumatized by them already..."

"But the Autobots wouldn't hurt HER!" Spike insisted.

"Spike, she still sees them as the enemy," Sparkplug retorted. "And for good reason, if they've killed her parents and she's seen them damage friends and family firsthand. And who knows what Megatron's been telling her. Just drop it for now, all right?"

Spike didn't look too happy with Sparkplug's order, but he kept quiet.

"Who's Uncle T?" asked Carly gently, standing up and edging a little closer to Glory. "Is he really your uncle, or just someone you call 'Uncle?'"

"He... he's really my uncle," she replied, relieved at the change of subject. "He's Mommy's co-creation. His real name's Thundercracker, but I call him Uncle T. He likes it."

"Does he take good care of you?" asked Chip.

She nodded. "He's the best. He reads me stories and takes me flying and helps me clean up when I play a joke on someone and it gets messy. And he lets me watch while he plays on his computer and goes on raids with his guild..."

"His guild?" A wry grin appeared on Chip's face. "Thundercracker plays World of Warcraft? What server?"

"Uhh..." She screwed up her face plates in concentration. "Ner'zhul, I think..."

Chip's eyebrows raised in surprise, then his grin widened. "What's his guild?"

"Royal Stormhawks. His computer name's Rollingthunder."

Chip burst into laughter.

"What's so funny?" she asked, cocking her head at him.

"Oh dear," Chip giggled. "Well... next time you see your uncle... tell him Anklebiter says hi, okay?"

"Okay," she replied, smiling a little herself. She wondered what Uncle T would have to say when he learned that one of the humans at the Autobot base was in his guild...

The door slid open again, admitting a scarlet-and-white mech with a black helm and stubby horn-like projections jutting from the top of his head. Glory froze, every joint and cable in her body tightening in fear. Chip had promised her there'd be no Autobots! He'd promised her she'd be safe here... and she'd trusted him...

"Hey Spike, thought you were gonna meet us outside for a trip to Portland!" the Autobot demanded. "What gives?"

"Something came up..." Spike replied sheepishy.

"Sideswipe!" Sparkplug barked. "You're not allowed in here! Didn't you get the order?"

"Why, what's the deal?" he asked, sounding put out. "Not like this room's infected with Cosmic Rust or anything..." He spotted Glory, and a blank look spread over his faceplate. "Oh... that's why."

Glory tensed, getting ready to bolt. There was no other way out of this room but the way the Autobot had come in... but maybe if she was fast she could dash past him and make it to the hallway...

"Heya kiddo!" Sideswipe gushed, crouching as close to her level as he could and waving at her. "So you're the vicious little monster that scratched my brother's paint job, eh? What's your name?"

Brother? The name "Sideswipe" clicked into place at that moment, and she trembled in fear. Kickback and Bombshell had described Sideswipe and his twin to her in cold, menacing tones not so long ago... "...almost always fighting side by side... as brutal and oil-thirsty as the Dinobots, but much smarter... and much more dangerous because of that..."

"What's the matter?" he asked, cocking his head to one side. "Cassette-cat got your vocalizer?"

"She's scared, Sideswipe," Carly informed him. "Leave her alone..."

"She thinks I'm scary?" asked Sideswipe, a look of disbelief on his face. Then a wicked grin crossed his lip plates. "Well, of COURSE she thinks I'm scary! Why wouldn't she be? I'm the scariest Autobot that was ever assembled!" And he threw his head back and gave a booming laugh that would have been frightening had it not been so over-the-top. Glory, for her part, just stared, completely confused by now and wondering if she should laugh or run for her life.

"Sideswipe," Sparkplug growled warningly.

"Aren't I scary, kid?" Sideswipe went on, ignoring the human. "Huh? Aren't I?" He bared his dental plates in a comically exaggerated snarl, a snarl that ended in a rather undignified snort as he struggled not to laugh.

Glory couldn't help herself -- despite her fear, a giggle slipped out of her vocalizer.

"What's that, laughter?" demanded Sideswipe. "You aren't supposed to laugh! I'm SCARY! Really, I am!" He raised his hands, fingers hooking like claws, and pulled a goofy face that so resembled Wildrider's crazy expression that she burst into giggles all over again. "Hey, you're laughing again! Stop that! I'm supposed to be scaring you! Chip, tell her to be scared!"

Chip just laughed. "I dunno, Sideswipe, seems she's made up her mind about you."

"Well, phooey." Sideswipe sat back on his aft and stared at Glory, a mock pout on his face that just set her off into giggles once more. "There goes my reputation, kid. Thanks a lump."

Glory covered her mouth in an effort to stifle her laughter. "You're funny like Skywarp."

"Skywarp, eh?" Sideswipe gave a shrug. "Well, I guess there's worse Decepticons to be compared to... What's your name?"

She almost answered, then closed her mouth firmly. It was against Onslaught's rules to answer Autobots' questions, even if the Autobot was funny and friendly...

"She's under orders not to talk to Autobots, I think," Spike told Sideswipe.

"Well, I can't call her 'kid' all the time, can I?" Sideswipe demanded. "What about 'Shorty,' eh? Or 'Violet,' that works since you're purple..."

"Her name's Glory," Carly told him firmly. "And be nice to her. It's not her fault she's here."

"I AM being nice," Sideswipe pointed out. He gave Glory a long look, then pulled one more crazy expression that reduced her to giggles again before getting up. "Well, have fun with the kid, guys. Glory, say hi to the 'Cons for me when you get back, and tell Starscream I owe him a beatdown. See ya." And he walked out, the door hissing closed behind him.

Glory stared at the doorway, half-expecting another Autobot to appear. Funny... Sideswipe hadn't tried to hurt her or anything. He'd just treated her the same way Skywarp or the Stunticons did -- like just another sparkling.

"Sorry about him," Sparkplug said by way of apology. "He's a little much to handle sometimes. Do you want some energon?"

She nodded. The cube Chip had given her had boosted her energy levels somewhat, but she still wasn't up to full capacity yet.

"Spike, come with me and we'll see what we can find," Sparkplug ordered, and the two of them walked out.

"So tell us a little more about yourself," Carly encouraged, patting Glory's hand gently. "What do you like to do?"

Break

"...and sometimes I help the cassettes out, though Uncle T doesn't really like that, especially when it gets one of the big guys angry. Like when we glued and feathered Motormaster and he chased us all over the base."

"He didn't catch you, did he?"

"Nuh-uh. His tires blew out. He was MAD, though..."

Optimus Prime suppressed a chuckle as he listened to Blaster's recording of the humans' conversation with the sparkling. Judging from what Glory said, perhaps it was time he started following Megatron's example and sending the cassettes into the Nemesis to record events such as this. What he wouldn't give to see Motormaster's expression once Rumble and Frenzy's prank had hit him.

"An' that's about the time Chip ducked out," Blaster informed him once the tape had run out, transforming back to robot mode. "Not much there that's useful, but at least we know a bit more about the kid an' how she got here."

"Very good, Blaster. I expect a copy of the recording as soon as you can create one. You're dismissed."

"Roger, Optimus Prime!" Blaster grinned, saluting. "Over an' out!" And he ducked out of the room.

Prime now turned to face the other officers present -- Jazz, Prowl, Ratchet, Ironhide, and Red Alert. Jazz was still snickering, a wide grin plastered across his faceplate. Ratchet, likewise, wore a look of intense amusement from what the sparkling had unknowingly related to them. Prowl was expressionless, an unfocused look to his optics as he processed and analyzed what he had just heard. Red Alert just looked annoyed, and Ironhide seemed desperate to say something but was keeping his vocalizer silent with great effort.

"I don't care if she's cute," Red Alert piped up the instant he felt he had Prime's attention. "She's a security risk. We don't have any proof that her coming into the base was an accident. The Decepticons could have set this entire thing up to get her in here, where she can spy for them or plant a bomb or spread a computer virus..."

"I have a hard time believing even Megatron would stoop that low," Ratchet cut in. "He's done some pretty despicable things in his time, but no way he'd endanger a sparkling, especially a femme, by using her as a spy or some kind of suicide weapon. He's never done it before..."

"That doesn't mean he won't do it NOW," Red Alert pointed out.

"Ratchet did give her a complete scan while he was repairing her," Prowl said calmly. "She is clean. Thus the 'living weaponry' theory is moot."

"Still, she could be a spy..." Red Alert insisted.

"Aw, come on!" Jazz exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. "She's just a kid who ran into trouble an' got rescued by th' wrong side! She ain't a spy. She ain't got th' training, an' she ain't gonna know what ta look or listen for while she's in here. An' Megatron's got Soundwave's lil' minions for spies, he don't need ta send a kid. Not everything's a conspiracy, Red, trust me."

Red Alert glared at Jazz but didn't comment.

"Prowl, what else were you able to deduce from the information Blaster and Chip have provided?" Prime inquired.

Prowl gave a faint smile. "That she is being adequetely maintained and entertained at the base, that the Decepticons are taking her welfare seriously, and that by all appearances she is happy and content there. She has friends and relatives there that she cares for, and she considers it her home. In short, she is better off being returned to the Nemesis than kept here much longer." His grin widened. "In fact, judging from the chaos she is capable of stirring up among the Decepticons, it may benefit our cause to return her."

"I agree, Prowl," Prime replied. "As it is, we've kept her here for too long, even if it was necessary to determine the best place for her. Now that she has come out of hiding, I propose that we return her to the Decepticons."

Ironhide couldn't contain himself any longer, and he slammed the flat of his palms against the table and shoved himself to his feet. "You're outta yer processor, Prime!"

"Ironhide..." Prime said warningly.

"We don't HAVE to send her back!" insisted Ironhide. "She's calmin' down nicely, judgin' by what Chip's told us. Sooner or later she'll be okay with us, an' then we can raise her as an Autobot..."

"Here?" demanded Red Alert. "We might as well paint a target over our door. Sooner or later the Decepticons will come here looking for her..."

"Then we send her back to Cybertron," Ironhide countered. "Prime, we can put 'er in the care of the femmes. Chromia an' Elita'll take good care of 'er, raise 'er up right, an' keep 'er safe. By th' time th' 'Cons find 'er again, she'll be upgraded an' a 'Bot..."

"Ironhide!" Prime snapped, cutting him off. "What you are suggesting is manipulation of the worst kind! We have no right to CPU-wash a child into betraying the only family she has ever known."

"Ya know what'll happen to 'er if we give 'er back, Prime," Ironhide said angrily. "She'll be turned into a soldier. Megatron'll have 'er upgraded into a warrior an' send 'er out t' fight against us. If we let 'er go back, then sooner or later we'll be facin' 'er on a battlefield. An' knowin' Megatron, that'll be sooner rather than later." He gave Prime a defiant look. "Ya want that on your conscience? Knowin' ya sent a sparklin' to her death?"

Prime regarded his old friend coldly. "I have no control over her future, Ironhide. Nor should I. Freedom is the right of all sentient beings. Not just the right of Autobots, but ALL sentient beings. We have no right to seperate this sparkling from her family and turn her against them -- indeed, that can only harm her in the long run. If returning her means that eventually we must fight against her... then that's a risk we must take." He turned to the rest of the officers. "Any objections?"

"I admit I don't like it," Ratchet said with a frown. "But I have to agree with you. We should send her back."

"Sorry, but I'm sidin' with 'Hide on this one," Jazz chimed in. "She ain't gonna have any more choice in her future if she goes back to th' 'Cons, is she? At least with th' Autobot femmes, she'll be safe, right?"

"Having a Decepticon sparkling among our femmes will only attract Shockwave's attention," Red Alert countered. "That child is a security risk wherever she is. I'm with Prime -- we should return her as soon as possible."

Prime glanced at Prowl, hoping the strategist had something useful to offer.

"Sadly, there is logic to both sides of this argument," Prowl replied to Prime's disappointment. "I must think on this further."

"We don't have time for that," Prime told him. "We need to make a decision, and make one quickly... before Megatron or Thundercracker decide to drop by with an army to pick the sparkling up."

Prowl nodded, as if that remark had tipped the scales for him. "Then we return her. It's safest for everyone involved."

Ironhide and Jazz began shouting protests, but a glare from Prime silenced them immediately. Ironhide sat down heavily, a mutinous look on his face. Jazz merely shook his head and offered an "I hope you know what you're doing" expression.

"I'm contacting the Nemesis to arrange a pick-up," Prime informed them. "No Autobots are to disturb the sparkling until then. If I find that ANYONE..." He cast meaningful looks at Ironhide and Jazz. "...has tried to interfere in any way, there will be slag to pay."