Disclaimer: Transformers © Hasbro, IDW Publishing, et. al. "Minutiae" and all original characters and places © Christine J. Burke.

Author Note:

WARNING: This is an Alternate Universe short story based on Transformers: The Movie. Rather, it is based on about the first twenty or so minutes of the movie. Be advised that I do not like even the concept of Unicron as an actual physical character. Therefore he does not play a real part in any of my stories. If you're wondering, I find Unicron to be a rather trite and uninspired plot device, far too overdone. While I will say that the movie was good and I enjoyed it despite the decision to kill off most of my favorite characters, I personally have no desire to recreate someone else's work. I borrow characters and concepts or write continuations but I'm not going to re-write the movie.

Minutiae

One Shot:

The Truth of Premonition

Thinking back on it, Prowl remembered a human once telling him that premonitions were merely human instincts reacting to half-formed thoughts in the human subconscious mind. She said that humans are much more aware of their surroundings than even they believe. She also said that premonitions were not something to be ignored. Ignoring a premonition could be disastrous. Instead of ignoring the premonition a person should figure out why they are having it in the first place. Not for the first time on this mission he was glad he had heeded her advice.

* * *

It had started with a mission briefing. Optimus Prime had just said that he wanted to send the shuttle to Earth for an energon supply run. It was then that Prowl got his first premonition of disaster. It was a sensation that he had never really catalogued or paid attention to before and he would never have allowed the information to affect his battle computations before he had spent so much time on Earth.

Optimus Prime's speech had stirred up the briefing room. Everyone was clearly optimistic and hopeful. They had pushed back the Decepticons to their strongest bases on Cybertron. The Moons and several small bases on the planet's surface were poised to make one final push on the Decepticons. All the Autobots needed was the fuel to make that final push.

Prowl could not help but frown. He hated when he couldn't rationalize thinking "It's too easy". He looked up at Optimus Prime but didn't voice his doubts right away. He scowled at the other Autobots who were on the verge of cheering, and then looked at their one human team member. Looking at Spike Witwicki made him remember their time on Earth. It was on Earth that the Autobots achieved their greatest victories. A large part of those victories were due to their human allies.

Finally, Prowl spoke, "Spike, I would like your input."

Spike looked over at Prowl before glancing around the room. He was sitting at a desk on a raised platform so as not to give the impression that he was not on equal terms with the rest of the Autobots. Spike was the member of their team that bridged the gap between the Cybertronians and their human allies.

Regardless of Spike's equal status with the other Autobots it was rare that Prowl would ask his opinion. Spike frowned for a moment. "Earth won't deny the Autobots the supplies we need…"

Prowl shook his head slightly and frowned. It was more of a show of emotion than he usually revealed at these briefings. "I've no doubt of Earth's sincerity in their commitment to our cause. I am more concerned with your thoughts on sending the shuttle to Earth."

Spike looked down with a thoughtful frown but shook his head. "I don't see why we can't send the shuttle. Decepticon activity has been light lately. We've pushed them back to the main fortress on Cybertron. If we're going to send the shuttle for a fuel run, now would be the time."

Prowl's optics grew fainter than their usual vibrant azure. It was a clear sign that the tactician was running calculations through his battle computer. Everyone waited. When Prowl ran calculations and simulations through his battle computer a plan could be approved or discarded entirely based on his recommendations. They learned the hard way never to ignore Prowl's warnings for caution. Many times in the past, Autobots would push forward with a plan that was not approved by Prowl only to have that plan lead to a crushing defeat.

Prowl shook his head lightly and turned to address them all. "I can find no logistical reason why we can not push forward with this plan." Expressions of relief were clearly visible all around, expressions that promptly fell at Prowl's next statement. "However, the success of this mission is largely dependant on what the Decepticons are doing. A lone shuttle being sent as far away as Earth is vulnerable to attack."

Optimus Prime seemed to search Prowl's expression for a moment before speaking. "We will have to be on guard for Decepticon movements at the time of the launch. For now we must keep this plan a careful secret. We must not let the Decepticons know of our intentions."

Prowl nodded but, to those who knew him best, they could see he was still troubled and that bothered them. Prowl did not often express doubt in a course of action. He also never advised caution unless he had specific complications to watch out for. Prowl was being vague and that did not sit well with them at all.

The Importance of Fine Details

When he had questioned the human female about the knowing expression she wore, she had looked up at him and smiled. He had asked her how she knew the young couple would engage to be married. Her response was that she had just had a feeling. At first he had truly thought his battle computer and logic board would freeze, the female certainly didn't know the young couple, but she had elaborated. She said that the little things had given them away. The couple they had been watching for some time that afternoon had been an interesting distraction from the dullness of the public relations ceremony. Prowl had then found the strange human female to be of interest and had spent the rest of the event talking with her.

"The truth is in the details", she had said. "One tiny, almost miniscule, difference could mean the difference between a child's finger painting and a masterpiece. It's true for art and its true for life. The tiniest detail could spell disaster or a chance to snatch victory from the claws of defeat."

* * *

Even as the shuttle started to depart and both Moon Bases assured them that there were no Decepticons in the area, Prowl could not pinpoint what he was so obviously forgetting. If to no one else his computations felt off to him. He was certain that he was forgetting something. The scenario seemed too easy. Dealing with Decepticons is never a straightforward and easy task. Briefly he wondered if this is what it felt like to be Red Alert, if he was simply becoming paranoid.

The launch went off with no difficulties and for that he was thankful. As they made it just past Cybertronian space, moving further into the asteroid field, the Autobots were just settling in for an uneventful trip when the hatch blew and Brawn was taken down with swift efficiency.

One important detail had been overlooked and the Autobots almost lost the war, almost lost all the ground they had gained and more. It was one overlooked detail that brought the Decepticons crashing through the shuttle hatch, intent on killing the entire crew and taking over the ship. They had… No. Prowl had forgotten to calculate in the probability of Decepticon spies infiltrating the bases. He had only accepted that it was something that they should be concerned with and had taken precautions against it. He didn't take into account the possibility of the failure of those precautions.

It was typical behavior for Decepticons, to spy on their opponents, looking for weaknesses. He too had made errors in his complacency, in his belief that the Autobots were on the verge of winning, of finally ending the war, and the Decepticons had almost snatched victory from them and turned the tides of war to their favor.

Prowl had no time to see how badly Brawn had been damaged. He barely had time to assess the situation as dire. However, as soon as the hatch blew Prowl had been out of his co-pilot's chair and facing the Decepticons with his weapon in hand. It was then that he saw Megatron and knew that the ship was lost.

There had been no signal Soundwave could have identified but Prowl had glanced to both Ratchet and Ironhide and they immediately knew what he wanted. His plan became clear to them when he took the shot from Hook. Prowl fell immediately. The pain of damaged circuitry and a breached fuel line almost knocked him offline in and of itself.

As Prowl fell, the half-processed energon that was leaking from his ruptured fuel line boiled the coolant in the nearby affected areas until his systems managed to seal off the damage and bypass the faulty line. The mix of coolant and energon purged from Prowl's mouth and optics, damaging and burning both along its course.

Prowl's frame hit the floor plates with a loud crash. Ratchet knew the angle of fire couldn't permanently deactivate Prowl immediately but he also knew that Prowl had walked into that shot. In order for this ploy to work it had to be believable. Prowl was seriously cutting it close though.

It was a gamble. Ratchet had been a medic for his entire career, since before the war had even begun. He knew that Prowl wasn't quite offline yet. There was the telltale glow and shine of Prowl's paint. That luminescence came from the still flowing and activated energon in his systems. A truly deactivated mech loses his luminosity within moments as the energon quickly coagulates and loses its capacity to hold a charge. They were all hoping the Decepticons didn't know that or simply ignored it. After all, their targets were down, clearly not getting up again.

Ratchet was the next to fall. He managed to avoid having the Decepticons' shots hit any primary fuel lines but it would take some time to have all the damaged circuitry replaced. He had understood that look Prowl gave them and the deliberate way Prowl stepped into Hook's line of fire was a clear give-away to the tactician's line of thinking. The shuttle was a lost cause. There was no chance for reinforcements and no way to warn Autobot City. All they could do was try to hold out until they were in hearing range of help. That meant the Decepticons had to believe they were already deactivated or far too damaged to be concerned with. Humans had a name for this ploy. It figures that Prowl would latch on to such a tactic.

Prowl had always made it a point to learn any and every military tactic he came across. While other Autobots looked down upon the human race for its war-like societies, Prowl came to understand and accept that life on Earth was brutal and violent for its native species. It was not merely the humans who fought against each other. All animals faced bitter, uphill struggles for survival. The canines and felines of the planet fought against one another as well as hunted down their prey with a dedicated efficiency that can only come from the drive to survive. Humanity learned their tactics from animal life, both offensive and defensive. These animals learned their tactics from necessity.

So Prowl had observed nature and read about every human military action he could find information on. It was in these studies that Prowl suddenly understood much of Decepticon behavior. He had made the same mistakes many humans of the past had made. He had believed that Decepticons thought as Autobots think. However, the Autobots are mostly a civilian maintained peacekeeping force. They are not truly military in their way of thinking. Taking a life is lamentable to an Autobot. To most Autobots it's outright detestable. A Decepticon accepts the loss of life as a matter of course. To oversimplify that Decepticons are an evil force of destruction is to provide an inaccuracy that the Autobots could never really afford. The humans stated that if one were to defeat the enemy one must understand the way he thinks and why he thinks that way.

Prowl discovered that deception was an integral strategy in human survival and that it helped in their ascent to become the dominant species of their planet. Perhaps most interesting was their use of deception as a means in which to avoid unnecessary altercations. Humans do not have armor or fangs, claws and brute strength. In order to become the victors in the battle for dominance on their planet they learned to avoid fights they could not win, usually by pretending to lose. The use of deception was typical in a human's arsenal against certain defeat. Prowl would use this tactic now.

Ironhide's fall was the most convincing of all. He truly gambled on his tough armor to see him through. He understood Prowl's tactics. The 'Cons would certainly overrun them and a deactivated block of scrap metal couldn't possibly hope to save the Earth or Cybertron. They couldn't surrender either. Faking their deactivations was the only real means they had of perhaps turning this disaster around. It was the only way to even have a chance.

So Ironhide fell, clawing at Megatron's legs in a vain attempt to seem desperately heroic. It's something the Decepticons would expect, particularly of him. Under different circumstances he would have fought to the bitter end but Prowl was Prime's Second for a reason and Prowl wanted them to play "possum". He had to make it look convincing.

* * *

The Logic of Fear

Prowl had always wanted to speak with that human female again but had never found the time to do so. Her contact information was still recorded on a data pad sitting on his office desk aboard the Ark. They had spent much of that public relation convention speaking about illogical human behavior. She had explained to him that all behavior has a source and that every human behavior serves a purpose, or is at least supposed to serve a purpose.

Prowl remembered asking the human female about phobias. Humans themselves claim that phobias are irrational fears. The female told him that phobias are exaggerated fears, not irrational ones. A human's fear of snakes for instance, is not entirely unfounded. There are many species of snakes on Earth that are highly dangerous to human life and well-being. Even if a human never sees a venomous snake in their life they still know to be wary of them. Either instinctual information or something learned through the teachings of others can make a human react in an exaggerated way to an outside object. The female described it to be very similar to intuition. To conquer exaggerated fears one must temper a conditioned response with correct information and understanding.

* * *

It was terrifying. It was a nightmare become reality. Megatron had found his means into Autobot City, had found the weak point in the Autobot defenses, and Prowl was terrified that he had failed all that he held dear. Brawn's condition was unknown. The Decepticon's attack on the shuttle was too fast and too furious to do much for that initial casualty.

Prowl turned his head to the side and managed to get his optics to work for a moment. He spotted Ironhide, clearly in stasis lock after taking a direct blast from Megatron's cannon to his cranial unit. The downed mech was lucky that Megatron could not risk a fully charged shot within the confines of the ship. It's probably the only thing that saved his life. As it stood, it was clear that Ironhide needed immediate medical assistance.

Prowl turned his head again to look to his other side but his vision went out again. After several agonizing moments attempting to reboot his optics he gave up and diverted power from the useless sensors to the sensors in his door panels. Accessing a little used program designed to allow him to operate in low to no light environments he managed to boost the sensors in his panels enough to be able to accurately identify his environment.

Prowl would have screamed had be been able. His vocal processor was completely fried by the burning mix of partially processed energon and boiled coolant that had forcefully bubbled from his mouth in the initial assault. It was logical that this was the source of his damaged optics as well. Apparently the boiling mixture had forced its way through those sensitive structures during the purge.

Prowl turned down the gain on his door panels to limit the pain. His entire frame was lit up with agony. It was all he could do to keep track of all the damage reports. Eventually he had to use his override protocols to ignore the less important damage.

He concentrated on his task, trying to prevent the terror and panic from settling in. He could not shake the idea that he was going to deactivate broken, alone and blind aboard a shuttle that was his to command and with a crew he was sworn to protect. He had failed them. He had failed them all and he was paying the price for that failure.

No! He would not allow himself to process such thoughts! They were unproductive to the situation. It was true that he should have seen an attack like this coming. It was the perfect opportunity for the Decepticons after all. However, dwelling on that now would be pointless. Now he had to concentrate on correcting the situation and that required that he first get some medical help for Ironhide.

Ratchet was needed and his door panels were telling him that the Chief Medical Officer was laid out behind him. Apparently the Decepticons had moved them all and dumped their frames in a corner of the bridge. Brawn was apparently laying at his feet, amazingly alive, but also in stasis lock. He too would need Ratchet's care.

Prowl diverted more power to his motor functions and carefully remapped the signals sent from his CPU to his extremities. He managed to twitch a finger and then jerk a leg before finding workable paths again. He came fully online far too slowly for his liking but he dared not force the issue. A mistake now would be fatal.

Once he completely rebooted all the systems he could bring online he turned his still sightless, and apparently soundless, attention to Ratchet. Deaf, blind and mute, he had to rely on his panel sensors and shaking hands to navigate to the medic and search the mech for his injuries.

Ratchet had two laser shots to his main body but apparently he had managed to twist enough to keep the shots from hitting anything substantial. He proved luckier, or more skilled, than Prowl and the others. Prowl grimaced as he used his hands to search for Ratchet's interface panel. He pried the panel open and fumbled with shaking hands to plug his own jack into Ratchet's port. Once the connection was made Prowl worked swiftly to override Ratchet's stasis lock, all the while grateful for the fact that the medic was the least damaged out of all of them. In fact, a quick diagnostic showed that Ratchet's worst problem was that he was low on energon. He apparently bled out quite a lot before his internal repairs managed to seal the leaks.

Prowl, having discovered his next task, quickly determined that he did not have enough energon in his own systems to support them both. He fumbled his hands into his subspace pockets to pull out a small container of energon reserves and an emergency medical kit. All he could do was hope it was enough. Prowl may not have been a medical officer but, like all officers in the higher ranks of the Autobot army he had undergone some medical training. He had also initiated the policy that it be mandatory for all Autobots to learn basic field repairs.

Using the energon reserve to fuel Ratchet through his emergency access port, and using up his entire supply of emergency rations in the process, Prowl was able to pull Ratchet completely out of stasis lock. He disconnected his jack quickly, not wanting the other mech to know exactly how he had managed to override his stasis lock. Direct interface connections could be considered quite a breach of privacy, not to mention only a small number of Cybertronians are even capable of overriding an emergency stasis lock in such a manner. If they lived through this, he'd rather not have to answer the medic's many questions regarding his knowledge and abilities.

Quickly closing both of their panels, he was able to turn his sightless optics towards Ratchet's onlining ones before the other was completely aware of his surroundings or just who was leaning over him. Prowl had only a split second of warning before Ratchet moved to attack him. After all, the medic had been fighting their Decepticon attackers before he was off-lined. Prowl managed to duck back before Ratchet's fist landed in his already damaged face. He tried to say something to reassure the medic but all he could do was open and close his mouth and issue forth a burst of static.

Ratchet, really only startled by his circumstances, quickly ceased his attack and stared at Prowl for a moment before his medical programming kicked in. He whispered Prowl's name in a soft voice, not really completely booted up enough to have his voice carry. Shaking his head he managed to fully boot up his vocal processor and speak louder.

"Prowl. The others? Autobot City?" Ratchet's voice held nothing but concern. However, Prowl could only tap his fingers against his audio sensors and shake his head. He was clearly not able to understand the medic. He only knew that he had spoken. Taking in Prowl's state, Ratchet began to move to help the other mech but Prowl stopped him and gestured to Ironhide. Immediately the medic scrambled to Ironhide's side to work on the old warrior's worst damage. Regardless of any field work he did on the mech, Ironhide's damage was too extensive to bring him out of stasis lock. The best he could do was stabilize his primary spark chamber, ensure it had the proper amount of fuel, and secure the contents of his overheated processor.

While Ratchet tended to Ironhide, Prowl used his own medical kit to determine what he could do for Brawn. Brawn's injuries were beyond him however. He was able to stabilize the power fluctuations in the minibot's spark but it had migrated to his auxiliary spark chamber when his primary spark chamber ruptured under the blast of a Decepticon weapon the tactician could only recognize as a powerful energy burst… perhaps a plasma weapon of some sort.

Stepping back from Brawn's badly damaged frame he turned his attention back to Ratchet. The other mech was hard at work and clearly couldn't be disturbed. Prowl was once again able to think upon the situation they had landed in and the panic and despair began to rise again. A sense of terror and dread started to wash over him as he recalled the circumstances in which he woke. Blind and deaf without any knowledge of either friend or foe he had been easily taken by a fear of true deactivation and failure. He even contemplated for a moment the possibility of their capture, and the idea that the situation could indeed get worse nearly overwhelmed his emotion sectors with terror. The idea that he could be incapacitated and helpless in an enemy's hands at any moment very nearly off-lined him again.

In an effort to keep from processing his own emotions, emotions that threatened to overwhelm his battle computer as well as his logic processors, he stood and carefully made his way to the gaping hole in the side of the shuttle. It was clear that no Decepticons were nearby. Apparently his half-processed plan to fake deactivation had worked. The Decepticons had left them for dead.

Prowl carefully flared his door panels and, ignoring the pain, turned up the gain on them to attempt to discover their location. The battle was still raging and Autobot City was clearly nearby. The gestalt teams were engaged to the northwest while the main action seemed to be occurring to the east in the city itself.

Prowl once again turned his attention back to Ratchet. Based on the amount of noise vibrations his door panels were picking up, the medic was already swearing at the state of their two fellow crew members and it was clear he would not be ready for another patient any time soon.

The fear began to settle again. What if the Decepticons came back? What if no help was forthcoming? It was probable that everyone would assume they were deactivated when the Decepticons took the ship. His battle computer presented him with scenario after scenario and each left him certain that they were never going to get the help they clearly needed, certainly not in enough time to be beneficial.

Prowl shook his head, clearly trying to dislodge the terror. If only he could see! If only he could hear! If only he could call for help! All of his forms of communication were disabled. He was lucky he was able to use his panel sensors. Most of his other systems were damaged and reading errors or disabled entirely. The pain was unrelenting but it was nothing against the terror of being helpless. The loss of most of his sensors left him in a complete vacuum, alleviated only by the information coming from his door panels. His utter failure to protect his fellow Autobots railed against his senses almost causing him to give in to his despair.

Prowl once again turned his attention to Autobot City. He could no longer stand there processing the odds, finding them all incredibly unfavorable. He had to get out! He had to bring help to his crew! He took one hesitant step away from the shuttle and then another. He flared his panels to really sense what was around him and took off running for Autobot City.

Prowl dared not attempt a transformation. His alt mode severely limited the reach of his panel sensors and they were currently the only things that allowed him to sense his environment. He was navigating by feeling everything around him. None of his other senses were working. In all honesty he should have stayed in the shuttle waiting for Ratchet's assistance, but the thought of doing nothing but waiting for an inevitable fate terrified him above all others. His logic processors and battle computer were all telling him the odds of their survival, and the numbers were driving him again and again to the brink of panic. It never crossed his processor that perhaps his diagnostics were damaged and giving him faulty readings or that his battle computer may not be calculating correctly. Prowl could only trust the figures his processors were giving him.

Prowl had faced many terrifying events in his life but nothing ever frightened him more than the sensation of being helpless. For a mech so in tuned to control of both himself and whatever situation he found himself in, this situation went far beyond his comfort zone. He could not allow himself to sit quietly and wait. Such would surely have him blow a processor or two. Prowl needed to be useful! He needed to gain back control of the situation. He needed to get help for his crew! He couldn't let them down! He couldn't lose any more of his people!

* * *

The Power of Perception

"Perception is everything," she had said. She was shaking her head over several humans crowded around one well-dressed human male loitering by the refreshment tables. The human had been talking excitedly to his rapt audience. She had noticed his curious expression and explained that the male human garnering so much attention was little more than a public accountant with no real power of his own. All he could really do was provide tax calculations and explain the local budget. He had no power to affect policy or even the wealth he was responsible for keeping track of.

She had then motioned to another man, non-descript in his appearance, and explained his position as a policy-maker in the Department of Environmental Protection. He wasn't dressed poorly but he had an air and a look that suggested he was more at home on wooded trails or along running rivers.

People, she had explained, have preconceived notions of how something should look. The well-dressed are thought to be affluent. The rough and unkempt are thought to lack intelligence. The small are considered weak. The large are perceived as strong.

It was at this time that he had realized that the greatest difference between the human race and Cybertronians was not in their physical structures, age or beliefs. Even their social habits were much the same. The greatest difference between humans and Cybertronians, even Autobots and Decepticons, lay in how they perceived the world. For a race that prides itself on its ability to blend in and adapt to any environment they too often forget that appearances can be deceiving.

* * *

As Prowl ran towards Autobot City he had little awareness of who marked his passage. He could not tell if the mechs he attempted to avoid even noticed him. Only their actions, their movements, warned him that he had just tipped off a group of Decepticons to his presence.

He had no time to process his fear. All of his concentration had to be focused on his mission. He had to find help for his crew. Only the Autobots could provide that. The only Autobots capable of providing that assistance were most likely to be found in Autobot City. He would seek out First Aid but as a vital member of the Defensor Gestalt team he was likely engaged in the battle elsewhere and completely out of his reach. Autobot City was his only logical choice.

What Prowl had no way of knowing, blind and deaf to the confusion and shouts around him, was that his sudden appearance on the battlefield had subtly altered the tone of the battle. Decepticons reacted to his presence with confusion and bewilderment. Some even grew out-right fearful. Here he was, a mech they had left for dead, a mech that served as Prime's own Second-in-Command, who had served in that position since before the start of the war, and he was running through the battlefield like an old junk raised from his placement in the scrap yard.

The Autobots reacted to his presence quite differently. Prowl was alive! If he was alive then the rest of the shuttle crew could be alive! His presence was a symbol to rally behind. Just as Optimus Prime's appearance on the battlefield helped the Autobots regroup, Prowl's appearance assisted his fellow Autobots by causing a surge of hope in their ranks.

The Autobots quickly took advantage of their sudden increased morale, as well as their enemy's confusion, and began the process of turning the tides of battle. Every step Prowl took closer to Autobot City marked the change. Word spread throughout both camps. "Prowl lives!" quickly became a healing balm to the Autobots, who renewed their fighting spirit and redoubled their resolve. The same phrase confused and frightened Decepticons into easy targets. The outer skirmishes between Autobots and the invading Decepticons soon turned into a rout, leaving the Autobots tired and depleted but hopeful and pressing on for victory. They followed in Prowl's wake, chasing the oblivious tactician with a surge of victories.

Prowl's battle computer was starting to overheat, attempting to use extremely limited data to carry him through to help. Once aware of the danger of the Decepticons who had noticed him, however, he was quick to calculate possible courses to escape them. He would immediately discard any possibility that had him turning away from his goal. Turning back was not an option for him.

He was unarmed. Battle would be pointless. He turned one way and another to avoid the enemy's fire, calculating the probability of being hit. Never did he turn his back to his enemy. Such would expose his sensitive panels to possible injury, something he simply could not afford.

He only marked in passing the sudden turn of the Decepticons' attention. Autobots had engaged his enemies. The Decepticons now had much more to worry about than one defenseless and weaponless, half-scrapped mech. The Autobots had descended on them like a furious landslide of avenging metal, beating them into submission and causing those still capable to flee.

Prowl came to a sudden halt, barely preventing himself from falling into the moat surrounding Autobot City. The bridge was withdrawn, the walls sealed shut, but the battle raged on inside. There had to be a way in! He needed to get to a qualified medic and his only likely choices were bound to be inside, right in the thick of the battle, hovering close to Optimus Prime.

Prowl's need would not be deterred by something as insignificant as a moat. He flared his wings again, twitching them this way and that, searching for an opening, any telltale sign of how the Decepticons had gotten in. He paced around the perimeter of the city like an enraged tiger. He called up the schematics of the city in his logic processor, remembering every detail until he came across the path of destruction wrought by Devastator. Subtle that monstrosity was not, and it was clear that the Decepticons had taken advantage of the hole left behind in his wake to provide access for their own ground troops.

Prowl fearlessly, or perhaps desperately, launched himself over the makeshift bridge and into the city's commons. The place looked like the Unmaker himself had taken a disliking to it. The commons, where Autobots and their human allies gathered for their largest celebrations, had been torn to shreds. Nothing was recognizable to the optics of any Cybertronian who had once been there. But Prowl was not using his optics and he navigated his way through the wasted battlefield towards the vibrations indicative of battle. Other Autobots followed in his wake but soon dispersed to assist their comrades still fighting inside the massive fortress city.

That Metroplex, the heart of Autobot City, was not quickly putting an end to the battle caused concern in Prowl's processor. Something must have happened to the massive mech early on in the battle. It was illogical to think that the Decepticons had left their greatest threat on Earth to his own devices. Surely the Decepticons incapacitated him somehow. He would not contemplate the possibility of the mech's demise. He couldn't afford such a distraction.

Prowl's search led him farther into the city, the sounds of battle increasing. Warning signals were flashing at him insistently. Those that existed outside of his rather self-centered universe had to go by unnoticed but his internal alarms were telling him that he was dangerously close to slipping back into stasis lock. His fuel reserves were extremely low, his wounds many, and his processors were in danger of overheating. He had to find help quickly!

Prowl was unaware when Devastator was finally forced to uncombine into the various Constructicons. He had no cause to believe that the Decepticons were already largely on the retreat. He was even unaware of Optimus Prime's face-off with Megatron as he stumbled closer to that epic duel.

All of time seemed to stop as his door panel sensors finally informed him of the situation. Hot Rod was held hostage by Megatron and Megatron had a gun trained on Optimus Prime. Finally, a call went up to inform the Cybertronians still fighting that the Decepticons were defeated. Cries of "'Till all are one!" and "Prowl lives!" seemed to cause the world to start spinning on its axis again. Megatron pulled his trigger and Prime went down. Hot Rod was cast to the side and the Decepticons withdrew in full retreat, taking their leader with them.

Prowl stood, his energy nearly depleted, and tried to move forward towards his fallen Prime. His legs refused to obey his commands. Twice he had failed. Twice he had been helpless to defend his leader. Hot Rod ran to Optimus Prime's side but Prowl was rooted in place. He sunk to his knees and pulled his emergency medical kit from his subspace and pointed it, and his hand, in the direction of the crashed shuttle. It was all he could do before he slipped into stasis lock.

* * *

The Value of Faith

After speaking with the human female for hours he should have anticipated her interest in Cybertronian beliefs. However, when she finally questioned him about the common beliefs of Cybertron he found himself strangely unprepared to answer. He explained the common belief in Primus, the creator of Cybertron and the origin of all transformers, as well as the belief that all Cybertronians would return to the Well of All Sparks once they ceased to function. He found himself unwilling to discuss his personal beliefs and she seemed to accept that.

It was then that she spoke of the myriad of beliefs that exist on Earth. The subject was fascinating. She spoke of Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Hindu, Shinto, Zen, Buddhism, Zoroastrianism and various pagan religions, some of which still had active followers. Her wide understanding of the rudiments of each faith astounded him. He could not understand how a single people could believe in so many different ideas and nearly crashed his logic center when presented with the idea that humans warred over these beliefs, ideas that could be neither proven nor dis-proven.

She had said that faith was valuable. People would not have their beliefs tarnished with the challenges of other beliefs. It frightened them. It made them question their actions. It becomes an almost searing pain to suddenly realize that everything once held dear could be nothing more than a ridiculous fantasy. So people fight to defend what they believe in and won't tolerate any challenge to that belief.

Her smirk as she looked up at him had been a knowing one. She said that not all beliefs were religious in nature. People believe in wealth, strength, justice, intelligence, science, community and reason. She claimed that many people even believe in chaos. People are complicated but also extremely simple. People like to believe in the things that allow them to understand and accept their world. People accept and cling to beliefs because the universe would make no sense without them. Whether one believes in a god or logic or even fate and destiny, the value of faith is priceless because it is something to cling to when everything else has been stripped away and the world is falling apart around you.

* * *

Prowl had never been one for prayer. He had to admit that his faith was lacking. His belief in the goodness of his own people had been sorely tested during the war. The cruelty of the Decepticons and their willingness to destroy everything in their way made him question if Primus cared and if He even existed at all. And if He did exist, why should any mech worship and obey a being that would allow such a travesty as the war to begin in the first place, let alone allow it to escalate to the point it had. Cybertron was in ruins, barely capable of supporting any type of life, let alone Cybertronian civilization. To make matters worse, the Decepticons had a long practice of subjugating and destroying other worlds as well. Earth was not the first planet to feel the Decepticons destructive wrath.

In spite of all this, or perhaps because of it all, Prowl clung to his ardent wishes to Primus that his Prime, his crew, Autobot City, the Earth, Cybertron and all that he held dear, would be kept safe. Unaware and unknowing of what was happening around him, all he could do was stay in the oddly un-oppressive nothingness and pray. He no longer calculated odds, no longer struggled to find help. He felt no pain or fear or desperation. All he did was wait in the nothingness and pray. It was oddly peaceful.

Prowl contemplated for a moment the idea of simply staying in the nothingness but somehow knew that it wasn't a viable option. Somehow he understood that his staying or leaving was entirely beyond his control. Either he would return to the world of the living or move on to something else. He simply understood that this strange limbo he was in would not last forever. It would eventually come to an end.

So Prowl waited and prayed. He was oddly aware of not being aware of anything. He thought that this should bother him but found himself unable to be concerned. As soon as the thought crossed his awareness it flittered off into the nothingness and faded away. It simply wasn't important.

Prowl was also aware that time had to be passing but it seemed like such a trivial matter. It made no difference if it was ten-thousandth of a second or ten-thousand vorns. Time held no meaning now.

So all he could do was pray. He was aware that he had done all he could for his crew and his people. He had no concerns for himself and attempting to think about what had gone wrong seemed like an effort in futility. There was nothing more he could do. He could only wait… and pray.

So Prowl prayed. He prayed for the safety of his crew, the life of his Prime and the well-being of both of the worlds he had grown to care so much for. He prayed and the thoughts echoed around themselves in the nothingness until they disappeared. He had no idea if Primus or some other passing deity heard his prayers but he prayed anyway, because it was all he could do.

There was no more fear, no more pain. He was unaware of his frame. He didn't even bother attempting to access his memory core or battle computer. He knew they were both unavailable. He couldn't even truly say he was surrounded by darkness because he was unaware of either the presence or absence of light. He floated in a sea of nothingness, aware of his own thoughts fading away in the vast void.

It was slow at first. He barely marked the change. The nothingness seemed to thin and become lighter. As he became aware of lighter nothingness, almost without noticing the change, he became aware of presences. People were hovering over him. Then he became aware that he was laying on something. It was hard, yet inclined.

Prowl quietly waited as his various processors, computers and memory banks booted up. He waited a moment before onlining his sensors, remembering the pain and driven fear that chased him into the void. He felt no pain and realized that he was repaired. His optics had been replaced. His audio sensors were also new. In fact, everything that had been damaged from the boiling concoction of purged energon and coolant had clearly been replaced. Other injuries his memory core had recorded were also repaired.

As he booted up his logic processors and battle computer he marked the various repairs that had been done to his system. Given the extent of the damage and the thoroughness of the repairs he could only conclude that a significant amount of time had elapsed since he had fallen into stasis lock. He had no markers to indicate just how long or short that time might be. However, since there didn't seem to be a measure of panic in the room he was in, or any other indicators that he was aware of, his logic processors told him it was safe to assume that the battle was over.

Prowl booted up his audio sensors next and listened to the various status monitoring machines in the room. Otherwise the room was remarkably quiet, as if waiting for something. He listened further and was able to catch the sound of Cybertronian frames shifting nearby. He listened to their quiet systems for a moment before finally booting up his new optics.

Above him, gazing down with wide grins on their face plates, were a number of Autobots. He noted Jazz and instantly figured he must have come from Moon Base One once Autobot City managed to send out their distress call… unless he was no longer on the Earth. More information would be required.

Prowl, remembering the damage his vocal processor had incurred, did a status check on the component and found it to be entirely replaced. He briefly wondered where they had found the specs for his vocal processor. His entire facial structure had been extensively repaired as well. He would have to enquire about the repairs as well as his location.

Suddenly, Prowl was nearly overcome with a wide range of questions in his processor, each seemingly more important than the last. He could think of only one way to have each of his questions answered. Prowl booted up his new vocal processor and said simply, "Status report."

Amazingly, Jazz's grin seemed to grow even wider and the entire room cheered. Prowl could only flicker his optics, resetting them twice in his confusion. He felt a hand touch his shoulder panel and, from the angle, it seemed to come from someone on level with him. He turned his head to look at the mech on the medical berth next to him. His new optics widened at the sight of Ratchet laying there, grinning at him but waving his fist at him in diluted anger.

The first words from Ratchet's vocal processor made him smile. "You did it, you slaggin' moron! Everyone's okay. In spite of your best attempt to get yourself slagged!"

From the other side of him he heard Ironhide's grumbling. "Ah can't figure out which one's worse, Prime for takin' on the entire 'Con army on his own, or Prowl for runnin' through a 'Con infested battlefield with all his processors glitched, weaponless and blind as a bat!"

Wheeljack's voice was a relief to hear. "I want Prowl with me on the next invention I work on. Maybe his luck will rub off on me." Prowl smiled lightly as the entire room exploded in laughter.

Prowl laid back on his medical berth and muttered, for the first time in his long life, a spark-felt, "Thank Primus." Maybe there was some value to faith after all.