With no small amount of disdain Prowl replied, "He is to be escorted to a safe distance and remain out of harm's way."

Reggie stood up. "Excuse you, but I'm right here. You seem to be underestimating me. You need me on the mission, too."

Prowl's faceplates flattened, giving Chromia all she needed in answer to her question. Meanwhile, Broadcast snorted. "Dude, I'm made of metal an' I'm at risk'a bein' squashed durin' a fight. Ain't no way you're gonna be safe if you come along."

"Who said I wanted to be safe?" Reggie made a backward wave with one hand, as if swatting away the comms officer's warning.

Broadcast didn't hesitate a second. "Huh, dumber than he looks." He leaned back, folding his arms.

Simmons glared at the screen. "Why you little--"

"AHEM." Prowl placed one finger against Reggie's back. "We agreed to let you sit in on this meeting for your input. Either offer it or be quiet. We are not going to endanger any of our human allies on this mission."

Simmons spoke in a clipped tone. "No, you're just endangering all humans with this mission. If you lose, what then? With the numbers the 'Cons have, they'll take over this planet in no time. Before you do anything else, you should ask yourselves why they haven't attacked already."

"They are waiting to see if Megatron lives," Chromia replied as the answer to that very, previously unasked question came to her. "They want to give him the pleasure of starting a new wave of destruction. The two generals we have confirmed plus Soundwave -- none of them would usurp the throne, and Soundwave especially would do anything in his power to resurrect Megatron. More the reason why we need to mobilize before they achieve that goal. At that point this planet would be doomed."

Simmons looked down at his hands as he tapped his fingertips together. "You don't even consider this to be your planet, do you? The way you speak of it, and of us humans."

"Hey now," Broadcast protested, "We got plenty of respect for--"

"Not you collectively," Reggie interrupted. "Her." He pointed accusingly at Chromia. "You're different from everyone. I can feel it."

Optimus drew himself from his reverie, startled as Bumblebee's comments about Sam and Mikaela came back to him. Simmons had had even more exposure to the Cube than the teenagers. Maybe that was also why he'd had such an easy time getting aboard Tidal Wave, the alien tech he'd been wearing aside. Nothing was infallible as far as stealth and Soundwave were concerned, but if Simmons was giving off an energy signature distorted by Allspark radiation it could definitely have helped him...Somehow.

Chromia snorted. "I don't know what you're on about, Reginald Simmons, but I think you should have other concerns."

Broadcast looked up at her. "Maybe 'cause Ironhide's off communin' with nature you're givin' off the opposite vibes."

Chromia frowned at him. "That doesn't mean I will not protect this planet and its people! And how could he sense any 'vibes' from me when we are not in the same room?!"

Reggie looked amused, as if pleased that he had frustrated an Autobot. "There, you did it again. It's your choice of words and the way you say them, like it's temporary."

Chromia turned and stared at the corner of the screen. Simmons appeared to shift uncomfortably.

Prowl's optic ridges went up. "Perhaps we could discuss Reginald's place in the mission after we have completed phase one. I call to adjourn this meeting."

"Agreed," Optimus rumbled, drawing glances his way now that he had finally spoken.

Chromia folded her arms, her optics dimmed and partially shuttered. A few seconds later she lowered her arms and walked out. Broadcast watched her from the corner of his optics, withholding his comments. Similarly, Prime went silent again until Prowl had picked up Simmons and carried him off screen. Broadcast lifted his chin and stared at Optimus, carefully keeping his own expression neutral while waiting for his leader to determine when he wouldn't be overheard.

"Broadcast--"

"Save it. What else you got for me?" He didn't do such a great job keeping his voice neutral.

Optimus loudly cycled some air. "I'd like you to check in with Powerglide. He might decide to join us."

"But you don't want me to convince him, do you?"

Optimus nodded. "No need. He's a civilian now."

Broadcast shook his head. "There's a time an' a place, Optimus. An' he's a member of ARROW whether he's got the badge on or not. He ain't exactly free to come an' go as he pleases. At least, not unless he joins us. It's lookin' to me like you're either an Autobot, a science experiment, or an invader."

"A blunt assessment."

"Can't help but feel that way. We ain't free, Prime, none of us. The 'Cons're our responsibility." Optimus' head sagged at the words. Broadcast nodded once. "See, you know it. The people here got the will to fight an' they've got some offense...but they can't even take on just the number of 'Cons Reggie verified. We're gonna be lucky if any of the recovery team gets out alive. If we all do, though, what then?" Broadcast dimmed his optics completely. "Personally, I'd rather be one of the humans who ain't got no clue this's all goin' down. Powerglide could only be so lucky to not be a part of this...but he'll end up as the line of defense if we fail."

"Then let us not fail. Make the call. We'll continue preparations here."

"Right. An' while you've got 'im, maybe you should ask Reggie what else he got his grubby hands on. It'd be good to know if he's keepin' a superweapon in his sock drawer."

"Agreed. Thank you, Broadcast."

"For turnin' into a pessimist? Sorry, chief. It's too much of a shot'a reality for me. I got work to do, I'll get back to you. Broadcast out." He closed the line and gave himself five seconds to think before opening a private line to Powerglide's frequency. "Heyya, Powerglide, this's Broadcast over at Autobase One. Just wonderin' if you got time to chat."

"Powerglide here." A video window opened showing the aviator's masked face. "What's up, Broadcast?"

"We've had a chat with one Reggie Simmons. He's been collecting trinkets that don't belong to any locals, an' we were wonderin' if you'd seen similar stuff in your travels."

Powerglide chuckled. "Oh, that guy. What a gas. What'd he find?"

"Dunno if the Falxerne System would ring any bells with you?"

"Mmm...nope."

"Picture a completely undetectable Simmons."

"Sweet Liberty, that's a frightening thought."

"Yeah. So, anythin' you can clue us into?"

"Sorry, nope."

Broadcast was stunned by the finality in the other mech's voice. "'Scuse me?"

"I'm not talking without Banachek's approval. No one here has said anything to me about this yet, and ARROW does have its own oaths of secrecy."

"Heh, I was right." Broadcast leaned back in his chair. "I'd think someone would have spread the word there about the news we sent over earlier."

"Banachek did mention the he had data on some active Decepticons. He hasn't changed my assignment yet, though. I've already got my hands full." His camera shifted and he held up one hand. A tiny robot was dangling from his fingers by a cord. It waved.

"Uhhhh... What is that, man?"

"A surviving Sector Seven experiment. There are several of them that I've been rehabilitating. Showing them the 'Autobot Way', as it were." The focus returned to Powerglide's face, his optics glowing with a cheerful brightness. "Learning experience all around."

"Huh. Yeah." Broadcast began to wonder if he was learning something, too. He quickly filed away the thought for later. "Can they fight?"

"Sure. With each other, with me, with the humans. Unchecked, they're nothing but instruments of destruction. I'm supposed to change that. I've made some progress but I think this is more a job for Ratchet or Perceptor. They would know more about the actual workings of their processors."

"Feel free to bring 'em over. We wouldn't mind havin' you around, either."

"I might," Powerglide replied, sounding like he wanted to keep thinking about it. "Do you lot have a plan yet?"

"Yeah, just about." Broadcast abruptly felt a surreal sensation about the conversation. "We could use anyone of our caliber on the sidelines, though."

Powerglide stared. Then he chuckled without humor. "I see what you're trying to do. Did Optimus forget that I said I wasn't choosing sides?"

"Actually, he said to let you be. It's my idea to ask ya. Just thought you might want to help protect this world again given as you've got a great record fightin' 'Cons."

"Again. It's always 'again'." Powerglide's battle mask withdrew with a shriek of metal. "This just goes on and on, Broadcast. I mean, we didn't even win that fight at Autobase. We need something to put the Decepticons out of commission for good. The Autobots haven't been able to do it after so many years of war. Maybe it's time to trust another race to take over and finish the job."

Broadcast could only gape at the screen.

A knowing look crossed Powerglide's face. "Don't discount the humans. All around the world they have faced insurmountable odds. I was here when they dropped the bomb. They have ingenuity, and they can survive, and they can rebuild."

"Hey, I'm the last Autobot who's gonna count them out. I guess it's just habit from seein' all the races who couldn't stand up to the 'Cons. An' I think we should spare 'em that."

"Then Optimus Prime needs to do something about this once and for all. Drive every last Decepticon off the planet and make sure none of them ever land here again."

Uncertainty began to niggle at the comms officer. "Ain't that what we all wish? But we ain't got the resources for that. Man, they took out the Ark. It ain't like we wouldn't try, but it's a tall order right now."

"Ask for help."

"I'll bring it up to Prime." Broadcast wondered if by making the suggestion Powerglide realized that ARROW was the first organization that would lend a hand, and he would end up in the fight anyway. Another call to Banachek was due, anyway. "An' I'll give Ratchet a head's up if you want. We're always open to your input, y'know."

"Sure. Just--" He was interrupted by a frantic beeping to the side. His battlemask slid out just as his face was peppered with machine gun fire. Broadcast tensed, on the verge of sounding an alert at the ARROW base, but then he noticed how tiny the bullet marks were. The screen filled with static for a moment then cleared to an image of Powerglide pinching an mp3 player between his thumb and pointer finger.

Broadcast frowned. "Looks like you got a battle no matter where you're sittin'."

"All part of the rehabilitation process," Powerglide huffed. "They ramdomly go off like that. Every time I think I have it solved that happens."

"Has a human been wounded by one?"

"Not seriously. The first time they malfunction they're put in containment. I have approached them each carefully, but it seems worse every time. They--"

"Are evolvin'?" Broadcast offered. "Maybe you oughtta let me take a look at 'em, too. I kinda wonder if somethin' unseen is triggerin' 'em."

"If you want. I have to go deal with this right now. I'll call you. Powerglide out."

"Later, man." Broadcast let the screen go dark then stared at the console, thinking.

~*~

"This is Isolde Holden with Channel Twelve News. We're here at the perimeter of the Ark, which as many viewers know is the much-publicized base of the Autobots. Members from the government's ARROW division arrived moments ago. The question is: what has caused such a meeting? Up until now the Autobots have kept physical appearances to a minimum. In fact, only Optimus Prime is visible as he greets head of operations Tom Banachek."

Sam yawned as he watched the live newscast. "Did you really think you would see anyone else?" he muttered. He glanced toward the side window to see if Bumblebee was watching, too, but the yellow bot wasn't there. He was probably sitting in the driveway tuned to an internal feed.

"We're going to get closer to try to find an answer."

"Good luck with that, Isolde." Sam chuckled. He scratched behind one ear.

"Another Autobot has just exited the Ark. Let me confirm -- yes, this one has never been seen before. This Autobot appears to be..." The camera zoomed in but could not pick up additional detail on the silver figure. The focus adjusted a few times.

Sam sat up straighter, one hand going to the arm of the couch.

"This Autobot appears to be very small," Isolde finally finished. "And is heading toward us. Perhaps we will be offered official answers." The camera settled into a steady zoom out.

"When did Broadcast leave?" Sam waited with as much anxiety as the news crew probably felt, but for a different reason. He knew the communications officer had been commanding Autobase One. Suddenly the appearance of ARROW and both commanding officers at the Ark became a whole lot more concerning. He wondered if it had to do with the Insecticon he had helped catch.

"Hello!" Isolde called out, the camera taking a view of her smile before panning back to the approaching bot. "I'm Isolde from Channel Twelve News. Can I ask your name, and would you mind telling the public a little about this event?"

"Heyya, Isolde, love your show," Broadcast replied with a smile of his own. Rhythm and Blues were absent from his shoulders. "I'm Broadcast. I handle Autobot communications. I've been undergoin' repairs, so that's why you haven't heard from me until now. Hopefully you an' your fellow reporters will get a chance to hear from me more in the future."

"Nice to meet you, Broadcast. So, what has brought ARROW to your door today? I understand they have been a big part of clean up after the assault by the Decepticons."

"Yeah, they've been helpin' a lot, an' we appreciate it. As for today, it's just a little meetin'." Broadcast gave a charming smile.

Sam found himself chuckling. The small bot was the perfect PR agent with his adopted mannerisms and humanoid face. "Just don't get carried away, buddy."

On screen, Isolde's posture showed she was falling under Broadcast's particular spell. "So we shouldn't brace for anything Earth-shattering, should we?"

"Nah," Broadcast assured, waving one hand in dismissal. "Just coverin' all that fun logistics stuff like openin' relations a little more. We'd like to get more dialogues goin' with more people, an' gain an understandin' of where we can be trusted to sit an' learn more. We wanna approach things with respect, an' ARROW is one of the government groups that's helpin' out."

"Is it true there is also a group that also, shall we say, handles incidents with complaints from citizens about you being here?"

"Ms. Holden, we understand that not everyone is gonna accept us. That's okay. Everyone is able to form their own ideas about stuff. We just hope it doesn't turn violent. 'Cause we know what that can escalate into, an' it cost us our own planet. We're hopin' that despite differin' opinions, problems can be talked out. We don't want war, we just want a chance to live an' learn more about the universe around us." Broadcast turned a sincere look toward the camera.

"We've heard similar sentiments from Optimus Prime. Are all of your people so interested in study?"

"Most of 'em. We all like different things. Me, I like music." He shifted slightly and it wasn't exactly clear where the chorus from Louie Armstrong's What A Wonderful World came from. "Durin' my recovery I was listenin' to all types of music from around the world. I dig it." He gave two thumb's up in such a natural human movement that Isolde returned the gesture. She hastily put her hand down as the camera panned completely on to her. Sam laughed.

"Perhaps we will also hear from an ARROW coordinator once the meeting is over. This is Isolde Holden reporting from the Ark territory."

Sam waited a moment or two, listening to the speculation from the newscasters in the studio. Then he got up from the couch and dashed outside the back door to see if Bumblebee had gotten a transmission about the actual cause for Broadcast being at the Ark.

~*~

Once the cameras were off and most of the news equipment packed away, Isolde walked back over to Broadcast, who had lingered in expectation of off the record questions. What he didn't expect was Isolde's critical gaze as she asked, "Music, hmm? The Beatles or the 'Stones?"

The Autobot blinked in disbelief. "Aw, you askin' me to choose? Guess I gotta go with the Beatles, 'cause they came first. Although the Stones'll be around forever."

Isolde chuckled. "You're not at all like..." she paused.

"Like Prime? Or like you expected?" Broadcast winked.

"Yes, right on both. Neither Optimus nor Trailbreaker have used a dialect."

"That could change. Well, maybe not in Optimus' case. He's all proper an' that. In the last couple'a months more of us have picked up accents. It all depends on our interests. I mix'n'match pop culture by nature. We're even gettin' some cowboy influence goin' on thanks to movie marathons. The variety is a nice thing. So, yeah, we all got our areas of study. For some it's the Top 40, for others it's John Wayne." He put his hands on his hips, grinning lightly.

Isolde looked him over with an amused expression. "I just can't think of you guys as mere robots anymore."

"I'll pass along the compliment." Broadcast saluted and did a twisting dance step to turn toward the Ark, but looked over his shoulder at her. "I gotta go attend the meetin'. Been nice talkin' with you, Ms. Holden."

"Call me Isolde. We should talk again sometime."

He shot her one more grin. "Sure thing, Isolde."

The reporter wasn't quite certain she heard correctly, but there seemed to be a sad lilt to the small bot's voice.

~*~

"Simmons. You a-hole. Get over here." Lennox marched across the entranceway with one hand balling into a fist. Prowl scanned the approaching human, noting his rising adrenaline level, and was tempted to step aside.

Reggie, meanwhile, raised his hands in front of him to ward Lennox off. "Hey now, I still have seniority over--"

Will seized him by the front of his shirt. "What's with all this fake authority you think you have, hm? You're AWOL as far as I'm concerned." He shook him briefly, then let go. "Just what do you think you're doing? Do you understand what could have happened to you?! Do you understand the unnecessary risk you took?! For what? You should have reported your suspicion and let the department handle it!"

"Where would be the glory in that?" Reggie smirked.

Will tensed to punch him, then lowered his hand and shook his head. "Liar. You already think you're important. You did it for some other reason."

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Another smirk.

Lennox would have wiped it off his face if Banachek hadn't called out from where he stood beside Optimus, "Gentlemen. If you'll come with us to the conference room without further discussion." He glanced up. "Prowl, please accompany us."

Prowl glanced at Optimus, then nodded. Lennox continued to glare at Simmons all the way to the makeshift conference room. Breckstein and Markhail also joined them and didn't try to interfere with or question Will's anger.

The conference room had an appropriately sized holo-table for the large bots with a smaller table on top of it for the benefit of the humans. Optimus lifted the five up while Prowl took up station at the far end, typing data into the holotable's projection reader. A few minutes later Chromia entered with Broadcast on her shoulder. He jumped down and joined the humans at the smaller table. He grinned at Will. "Lennox, m'man, how's it goin'?"

Will returned the grin and held up a hand for a high-five (or high-three, in the small bot's case). "Broadcast. 'Sup."

Chromia went over to stand adjacent to Prowl. Lennox noticed that her alt mode placement had changed since he had last seen her and although he couldn't identify the new vehicle choice, it seemed to be a more saturated shade of blue than before. She looked toward the group of humans, which prompted him to wave -- until her angry glare stoppped him. But it wasn't directed at him. He followed her gaze from the corner of his eyes, settling on Simmons. He smirked.

Banachek acknowledged Broadcast with a nod, then looked at Prowl. "Let's go over what we're lookin' at in terms of numbers and locations."

Prowl nodded and activated the table. The room's lights dimmed and an image of Earth, in blue and green, along with the Moon in gray, appeared above it. Four yellow areas blinked upon the Earth then separated and enlarged in turn. "From low to high priority here on Earth," Prowl began, "Washington DC. Three spybots: Bombshell, Laserbeak, and Buzzsaw, in the possession of Rattlelatch and being studied for information. This is where Rumble was once sighted but new evidence shows he left the area." The yellow portion shrunk down onto the holographic Earth and remained highlighted. "AutoBase One. Another spybot, Kickback, contained until it can be safely transferred to DC to also be studied by Rattlelatch. Attacked by Dirge, Scorponok, and the Stunticons. Scorponok was destroyed on the site. The Stunticons pulled out and are known to be impersonating sports vehicles at various racing tracks. Their current whereabouts, however, are unknown. Dirge left the area to engage our team in East Oakland. We believe he was in critical condition, if not destroyed, here. Barricade was sighted and subsequently lost again. Current location unknown."

A section of the Atlantic Ocean came next. "The Laurentian Abyss, where the remains of Megatron, Blackout, Bonecrusher, and Brawl were sunk. Evidence suggests they were recovered." Upon the globe a dotted yellow line traced a path from the Abyss through the Panama Canal to a relatively island-free section of the Pacific Ocean. The image of a lone, generic-looking aircraft carrier enlarged. "Tidal Wave, acting as transport. This is the highest concentration of Decepticons. Evidence suggests the presence of Soundwave, two aerospace flyers, the Constructicons -- Hook, Scrapper, Mixmaster, Long Haul, and Scavenger -- and more spies. Rumble, Ravage Squawktalk, a rebuilt Frenzy, and the in-progress reconstructed remains of Megatron. It is unknown how many more of Soundwave's army is aboard or in the field. It would be safer to assume there are more of them online, and that he will intend to retrieve at least Laserbeak and Buzzsaw. It is obvious that the Megatron restoration is a higher priority to him right now."

The yellow areas disappeared from the Earth as it and the Moon themselves enlarged. "There is also the unknown case of the Combaticons, last sighted in orbit of the Moon, with Astrotrain as transport. Onslaught, Vortex, Blast Off, Tankor, and Gutcruncher, as well as Ramjet, Thrust, and Skywarp. We cannot confirm if they all left the solar system or if they perhaps made planetfall." A hard look came to Prowl's face. Chromia touched his shoulder briefly. He nodded to her in acknowledgement.

Banachek had his hands steepled, pointer fingers on his lips in thought. He lowered them slightly. "We don't have the resources to send our men into space to investigate." He glanced at Optimus, who shook his head. "Then we'll put all our focus on Tidal Wave. We need further confirmation, so we'll just have to go in. You had a team planned out?"

"Yes," Prowl responded, bringing up the roster assignments superimposed over the planet. Tom nodded after reading. Will noticed that Ironhide's name was missing. He darted a glance at Chromia, but she was looking elsewhere -- and she looked angry. He would have to try to talk to her after the meeting.

"I can get you transportation," Tom said, "But I'm not sending any agents in there."

Optimus nodded. "I didn't expect you to. This is ours to deal with."

Tom nodded. "We will, however, form our own line of defense after I've had time to talk with SecDef."

A garbled bit of sound drew everyone's attention to Broadcast. The small bot's hands were clenched, his optics bright as his gaze followed the spot in the Pacific while the holographic Earth rotated. "Sorry," he said quietly. "I got a friend to avenge."

"Jazz." Lennox spoke with certainty. The other ARROW members and Broadcast all looked at him. He cleared his throat.

Prowl rapped his knuckle joints on the edge of the table. "We need to proceed with arrangements as soon as possible. The Decepticons must not be allowed to resurrect Megatron."

"Right." Banachek stepped back, removing a cell phone from his jacket's inner pocket. "I'll put in the call. I also need to discuss something with Reg in private, if there's anyplace available here."

"I have a suggestion," Prowl offered, coming around the holotable and lowering his hands, palms up, to the two men. Simmons glanced at Tom then stepped onto the Autobot's hand.

"Psst, Broadcast." Lennox tapped the small Autobot's ahoulder. "Got a sec?"

"That's about all I got. Crowd control's comin' up."

"Gotcha. I just wanted to ask where R an' B are."

Broadcast's optics dimmed and he frowned, but then he shook his head and grinned. "Gettin' an upgrade. See ya." He skittered to the edge of the holotable and leapt off.

Will stared after him, surprised at the rude treatment, but he didn't get a chance to try and follow because Chromia's hand came down beside him. "Will. I would like to speak with you."

"Of course." Well, that solved his earlier thought of speaking with her. He looked up at her and found another pair of dimmed optics. He felt an uneasy feeling come over him. When giant robots had personal issues, what could the consequences be? He tried not to picture Chromia punching a cement bridge column to vent frustration.

She glanced around to see if anyone was watching, then picked him up and put him on her shoulder. "Hey--" He started to protest, but stopped himself, instead bracing his feet and taking hold of a panel edge on the side of her head as she walked out of the conference room and went further into the Ark. He studied the walls as they travelled, trying to make sense of occasional symbols marking other hallways and doors. He worried they would enter a med bay with a damaged Ironhide inside. "Where are we going?"

Chromia halted and cycled out air. "I do not know." She lowered her optics. Her hands fidgeted.

"Where's Ironhide?"

"Direct. Very good, Will. That, I do not know either. He is on leave, travelling somewhere. Yes, that is right...not even I know."

"And that's what you want to talk to me about?"

"No. What I want to know is if you would be willing to arrange for me to speak with your wife."

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(c) 2008 S. Loweck. This work may not be copied, distributed, or reprinted without the author's permission. Transformers are copyright Hasbro/Paramount/Dreamworks.