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He stalked down each row and each aisle. His shadow looked pitch black in the sterile, illuminated white room. Every object, every body part was tagged and labeled. Prowl would kneel down, prod at a faded yellow arm panel or a scarred internal fixture, pause while he tilted his head at the tag, and then shake his head before pacing around some more and repeating the whole process.
Ironhide sighed, watching Prowl through the translucent door. His head bowed slightly. The red autobot took another step closer and the door swooshed open, then locked behind him with a satisfying click as he entered. Ironhide gazed idly for a moment before opening his mouth to speak.
“I called for Bluestreak almost two cycles ago,” Prowl said, not even looking up from the foggy indigo optic in his fingers.
Ironhide froze with his mouth hanging open. What perfect timing, he thought.
“I needed a report from him; the tune-up and modification records for all of Kickstart’s last seven partners he had in the field,” Prowl continued. He put the pristine optic down and shifted towards a pair of compression dampers. “Actually, I should make it eight. He only has eight partners on record, so we may as well investigate all of them.” Prowl ejected a small radio from his wrist and held it up to his face. “Bluestreak! I’m revising that previous order, I need records on all eight of Kickstart’s field partners, over.”
Ironhide folded his arms.
“Bluestreak! Do you respond? Over.” Prowl’s face twisted into a scowl. “Bluestreak, if I find you perusing the classifieds again for-”
“He went home,” Ironhide interrupted.
Prowl darted his head up at Ironhide. The red autobot arched his brow expectantly.
“Home!? Under whose authority?”
“Mine,” Ironhide said, raising his chest.
“You relinquished him?” Prowl scoffed, advancing towards Ironhide. “He’s supposed to be on duty!”
“You had him on duty for fourteen cycles.”
Prowl paused. “Where’s Nightbeat then?” His bright blue optics bounded around the room, as if he was going to find the other officer in the room with him. “At least he wouldn’t allow other agents to undercut my author-”
“I sent him home too.”
Prowl’s snapped back at Ironhide, his lips slightly parted. He stamped towards the red autobot. “What!? We’re conducting an investigation! You can’t disrupt police work like this!” By the time Prowl was finished, he was inches away from Ironhide and glaring up at the larger autobot from the tips of his feet.
Ironhide sighed, and unfolded his arms.
“I’ll be reporting this,” Prowl snarled. “And an obstruction of justice charge won’t-”
Ironhide withdrew a slim datapad from his thigh. The screen was a transparent white, peppered with static gold lettering. He offered it to Prowl.
Prowl raised his brow. “What is this?”
“It’s...” Ironhide’s stare drifted to the side. “It’s your review from the Ethics Committee.”
“Ethics Committee?” Prowl craned his neck back, and then snatched the datapad from Ironhide. He hunched over the bright screen, scrolling immediately through the litany of details.
“They cleared you of all fault for what happened to Kickstart,” Ironhide said.
“Why would I need to be reviewed?” Prowl asked, face twisting into an accusing scowl. He continued scrolling past countless statements and photographs.
“Because the kid died under yer command.”
Prowl’s face froze for a moment after he shot a look at Ironhide, and his brow sagged. “No, Ironhide, you don’t understand.” He turned back to face the acutely aligned spreadsheet of body parts across the floor. “There’s something here. Someone was in on this, if I can-”
“Ain’t you desecrated his body enough? How many ghosts are there left to chase?”
“I’m not chasing ghosts. I’m hunting a conspirator; someone who’s a threat to all of us.”
Ironhide rolled his optics and lightly shook his head.
“Kickstart’s field work was commendable, but I looked into his desk work and reports.” Prowl twisted around towards the tagged body parts like they were an audience. He started to pace back and and forth as he explained. “Shoddy work, at best. There are copious amounts of missing details, typos, some factual inaccuracies. I thought, ‘what if he’d been blackmailed?’ Or if there was someone he was trying to protect? What if he was covering someone’s tracks by omitting crucial information?”
Ironhide’s frame slouched, and he rested his face against the inside of his hand.
“I couldn’t find any known associates or past friends of his with criminal charges, but that still leaves the possibility that perhaps he was the culprit.”
The red autobot arched his brow. “Prowl, you can’t just-”
“What if he was playing the department, and something backfired?” Prowl continued, propping his chin up with his thumb as he talked. “Maybe he was protecting himself by hiding something about the operation. When I get testimonies from his previous partners I’ll-”
“That’s enough!” There was an emphatic stomp as Ironhide leaned in towards the officer. He glanced to his side, then looked back up at Prowl with half-lidded optics. “Jus’ let it go, Prowl. Put the kid back together and let him rest. There’s nothin’ here and you know it.” Ironhide advanced towards the officer, offering his hand. “Come on, you got a week of paid leave. This is the last place you should be.”
“I don’t need time off Ironhide, I need…” Prowl’s head slowly surveyed the rows of disassembled limbs and parts. He scraped his fingers across the top of his head. “I need to find out what happened. What did I miss, what wasn’t in the briefing...”
“Prowl,” Ironhide started. He sighed before continuing, and gently placed a hand on Prowl’s shoulder. “You couldn’t have known everything. It wasn’t your fa-”
“It’s my duty to know!” Prowl yelled. He slapped away his friend’s hand, his shoulders rearing up aggressively. “I have to know! How can I issue orders without accounting for every eventuality? How can my men be expected to trust me if I can’t keep them safe!? If not, then...” Prowl bowed his head towards the floor, and his tense arms went limp. The datapad was still barely clung between his fingers. “...why should anyone listen to what I have to say?”
Ironhide’s optics were dim and narrowed. He reached over to Prowl and gently took the datapad from his hand. “Come on partner, “Ironhide said. He placed a large arm over his friend’s shoulders and guided him towards the door.
Prowl shut his optics, and slowly rested his head against the plating of Ironhide’s chest.
“Let’s get you home.”