Orns of a tactician 2

[silberstreif]

Beta: Taralynden and Starfire201 - Again, thank you both for your hard work.
Summary: A meeting in a tense atmosphere reveals differences and similarities.

2. Calculation

When Prowl entered the room, he noted in annoyance that he was the first to arrive even though the meeting was supposed to begin in two klicks. It seemed that his colleagues would be late once again.

Instead of wasting the time, he took his normal place at the right where Prime would sit and began to check his data. While alone each piece may seem insignificant, together they painted a very different picture. The correlation of this probability program showed a significant chance of an enemy troop movement involving more than 300 Decepticons. This was a force which was large enough to attack a Autobot stronghold.

During his 852nd calculation of possible targets, Red Alert entered the room.

"Good morning, Prowl."

"Good morning." He put his datapads aside. "Did you get the required security data for all bases in quadrants Delta-34 and Zeta-11?"

Red Alert looked at him irritated. "Of course. And I checked them for security gaps, reviewed the last logs about hacker attacks and spoke with the officers in charge while pretending to do a regular security check."

Prowl almost smiled. He liked working with the Security Director, one of the few Autobots who shared his work ethic.
"Very good," he praised him and meant it.

His subordinate was surprised for a moment, but seemed pleased and began to talk about a new security system he was developing. It was a good system, designed to secure data bases and information in a base even under a direct data hack.

One by one Ratchet, Perceptor and Ultra Magnus arrived. They took no part in the discussion of improved security against data hacks in personal quarters and just sat down.
Prowl couldn't understand their lack of interest. In these times security was paramount and while he supposed that his tactical department was suffering the most under enemy attacks, Soundwave had tried to get into other data bases as well. They were lucky that Red Alert was on their side in this war.

Exactly at the moment the meeting should begin, the door opened and Prime entered. Behind him came his bodyguard, friend and director of the weapons arsenal, Ironhide, and also Jazz who greeted everyone but Prowl with a smile.

"Sorry," said Prime. "Jazz came to me with urgent news. Everyone, take a seat and let's begin now." He remained standing at the head of the table. A holo-picture of two bots appeared at its center. "This is Moonblaster and Barrel, two agents we lost contact with and whose deactivated bodies were identified an orn ago. Jazz, would you please take over from here?"

"With pleasure, Prime." Jazz waved at the picture. "To make a long story short, they were busted, Prowl denied a rescue mission, they died."
That he hadn't yet forgiven Prowl was obvious to all present. The tactician forced himself not to react.
"But we still don't know why their cover was blown and that's the problem. Other agents report that cleansings are being performed. And they're not picky; if they suspect someone they torture and execute them immediately." He made a face. "That's the situation. We think that the Decepticons are planning something and want to kill all our spies for that reason. Only what, I don't have a clue."

"May I interrupt?" said Prowl. "My data confirms this. There are hints of Decepticon troop movements in multiple quadrants. They're inconspicuous, but if you add them all together, we may be dealing with around 300 Decepticons."

This was serious news. Prime looked from one lieutenant to another. He was clearly worried. "Do you already have an idea what the target could be?"

Jazz shrugged, "Something they need flyers for."

That eliminated many bases. Prowl started his calculations anew. When Prime looked at him, he stopped for a moment, and concluded with the data available:
"Quadrants Delta-34 and Zeta-11 seem to be most probable at the moment. Red Alert has already examined security there."

Jazz looked angrily at the security director, who flinched, then at Prowl: "Hey, if you already know so much, why don't you send the data over? Or do you want to let more of my people die?"

The accusation hurt, nevertheless he did his best to answer professionally: "My data are only probabilities and this meeting was scheduled anyway."

"Okay," Ultra Magnus interrupted the beginning dispute. "Red Alert, what did you find out?"

Not much, as it turned out. Some possible targets appeared to be true fortresses, while others where appallingly vulnerable. Those at the table decided quickly that Red Alert should implement enhanced security measures in the worst ones. The Security Director only sighed as he accepted the new work.
This discussion was succeeded by the evaluation of the medical care in the quadrants, which Ratchet described as insufficient. Prowl upgraded his assessment automatically into "adequate, but improvable".
Thereupon Ironhide and Perceptor presented a short overview about the weaponry of the bases, followed by Ultra Magnus who consented to send several task forces into the quadrants. Something, the tactician strongly supported.

"All the same, we need more info," Jazz said energetically. "Let me send my people in."

"Into a high-risk-infiltration," Prowl remarked dryly.

The saboteur gave him a scathing look. "Yes. Not every mission can be as safe as you are behind your desk."

Prime hesitated. "Are those missions really necessary?"

"Yes!", his TIC shouted.

"Yes," Prowl supported. He observed amused, that Jazz looked completely surprised for a nanosecond. "As was already said, more data is required."

"So now you see reason?", Jazz said, but was ignored by everyone in the room for the sake of peace.

"Then I suppose it has to be," said Optimus Prime and looked sternly at his lieutenants. „But none of our agents are to go into the field without tactical backing."

"Gotcha."

"Affirmative, Prime."

"Good. Are there any other points on today's agenda?"

Perceptor looked at his list. "After a careful analysis of the last fifteen damage reports in the Science Department and a valuation on site, I estimate that Wheeljack needs new lab equipment – again."

"And a new processor, while he's renovating," snarled Ratchet.

After the meeting was finished and the others began leaving, Prowl invited the saboteur into his office to coordinate their forces further. But the chief of Intelligence scrutinized him coldly from head to toe and remained silent, until Prowl's doorwings jerked nervously.

"I don't understand you, Prowl. First you refuse a rescue mission during which I could have gathered the necessary information, then you support nearly the same mission in front of Prime. Are you developing a conscience or what?"

This time Prowl was the surprised one. "The probabilities didn't justify a rescue operation."

"But they justify these infiltrations which are at least as dangerous?" Jazz moved a step towards him, until he was standing directly in front of him. His visor prevented Prowl from seeing any of his emotions.

Instinctively he tried to back away, but was stopped when he felt the wall just behind him. "The circumstances have changed. A potential large-scale Decepticon attack threatens considerably more Autobots."

"And Moonblaster and Barrel weren't in danger? Didn't they deserve at least an attempt to save them?", the Intelligence chief asked quietly.

Prowl froze. He hadn't been able to give his approval. Not at the price of other lives, other equally good and loyal Autobots. He still could not. But Jazz's words rang true as well. They touched on the dream he was fighting and preserving the lives for.
He averted his eyes from the visor that only showed his own reflection. A feeling, as burning hot as a ball of molten iron, spread in his Spark. Finally, his own convictions let him mutter the condemning words:

"They did."

The saboteur gazed at him for a few more nanoseconds, then backed off and turned around.
"I'll see you in your office in five breems."

In the now empty meeting room Prowl sank into his chair again. On the table lay his calculations, columns and lines, figures and facts, determining what could be and what not.

Just why did it now seem to be so insufficient?

Comments

[silberstreif.livejournal.com]

Ah, they can, but both are so stubborn. The easy way is just not their style. :)