When the next day Knockout crossed the halls of the base, he looked oddly happy, even still sporting the dent on his helm. He noticed how others looked at him oddly, especially Jazz.
"Hey mech! ' he exclaimed, way too loud as he fell into step with him. Knockout grimaced wincing away slightly before frowning. He did not like Jazz. Nope, and he never would. The mech could be friendly all he wanted, but it wouldn't change. He still remembered that mental invasion that followed his arrival in the Autobot cause. All too well. He tensed as that day started assaulting him again like an asteroid on a crash course. Though he was unwilling to dampen his own good mood he couldn't stop the memories. He never could.

A presence that shouldn't be there. A presence that invaded his most private place, even worse than if they opened his own spark.
'Shockwave' his own coding seemed to scream, though it wasn't the cold, cruel scientist which was rummaging in his memories. The touch was somewhat elusive, once here, once there. Nothing like the cold logic of the Decepticon. It was disconcerting. But even with the cold terror risking to paralyze him, Knockout tried to keep him from going too deep. Where Jazz got closer to his reasons for his defection he put forward images of cars, of human movies he enjoyed. Amusement tricked after the first attempts, but then it morphed in annoyance and anger as it went on for too long. Knockout could feel the mech lunge at his memories...

"Jazz stop aggravating Knockout."
A voice broke the mech out of the memory, and he blinked before looking at the white and black Praxian who had apparently come to their side. Knockout had no idea of what Prowl meant with his affirmation, what Jazz had been saying was drowned by the memories. But he didn't stop to ask, and was so grateful for once to the stuck up officer when he could speed up without being called back by a certain Spec ops. Going straight to Wheeljack's lab and trying to get back the same excitement he had been feeling before Jazz butted in.

---

As the red figure left, Jazz turned to face Prowl in pure dismay.
"Mech! What was that?" he asked crossing his arms and pouting 'Ah just wanna be nice. Ah saw him happy an' wanted ta know why. Have some fun, get a cube. '
He hated the look Prowl gave him, like a sire scolding a sparkling. He was on the receiving end of those really often, like most of the crew.
"And what did he say?" was the response he got, those blue optics staring at him cold like steel. Jazz fought back a shudder. Prowl was a scary fragger even to his few friends. Few, three. Him, Optimus and his adopted creation Bluestreak. Jazz didn't even know why he himself still hung out with him.
"He had not replied yet. So? ' he responded, his armor fluttering up in a defensive way.

" So, maybe, I'll make an hypothesis... "

" Ya never make hypotheses Prowl.' Jazz immediately interjected, getting a menacing glare and a flare of doorwings that he knew all too well. The 'don't interrupt!" movement.

"Like I was saying, I would take in consideration that maybe, maybe he still remembers what you did to him?' Prowl finished with frown. Jazz huffed softly frowning.
'if all mecha Ah scanned wouldn't talk to me, I'd be more lonely than ya.' he responded." it's ma duty. Bots know that.'
Prowl rose an optic ridge but in his voice Jazz didn't detect any sign he was offended.
' Though my logical self agrees with you, with my endless frustration most bots don't share my mindset. And Knockout is new there. If he feels threatened there is a 20% chance more that he will go rejoin the Decepticons. I do not look forward to lose one of our few medics. ' he replied and Jazz felt himself freeze under his icy gaze though he was too proud to let it show. "So, if you please, allow him space and leave him alone.'
Jazz opened his mouth to protest but Prowl was already walking away.
Leaving him alone in the hall.

---

" Hey Knock!'
Wheeljack's cheerful voice was his greeting when the red mech stepped in the laboratory. Knockout smiled at the scientist.
" Can I use a console mech?' he asked as he approached a free one, ready to download the schematics he had taken from Shockwave. The scientist gave him a thumbs up before returning to his latest blaster. Knockout just hoped it wasn't like the last one. He didn't look forward to explain to Ratchet why he had been transformed in a living magnet.

Shaking away the thoughts on Wheeljack's insane weapons, he focused on the schematics. The frames of a seeker and a praxian were compared, labels pointing out differences and similarities. Knockout felt himself frown. The modification would have to be heavy, both to circuitry, to whole systems having to be built from scratch or removed. Even if he managed to plan this out, who would let him change their frame so deeply?
Prowl was out of the question. The Second in Command would never let himself be put in so much risk, not with how important he was to the cause. And if he convinced Bluestreak, highly unlikely, the tactician would know before he could say "scrap". And would personally reformat him in a toaster without even Ratchet having to do it.

Then there was Smokescreen. His greatest hope. The mech was a gambler, risk was his job. But he was a former con. It there was any chance Smokescreen would accept the risk presented by Wheeljack, or Perceptor, he would immediately refuse anything presented by him. Knockout felt his servos clench, the excitement he had felt since he had read the project disappearing, leaving only the bitterness he was used to live with.
He was about to close everything and go back to the med bay, when he glanced a last time at the cheerful inventor who was working on absolutely safe looking sparking cables without any protection. An idea struck, and his frown morphed in a slight, hopeful smirk.

"Hey Wheeljack, who is the best scientist? You or Shockwave?"

"Of course me!"

Hearing the almost indignant note in the voice of the half crazy mech Knockout's smirk widened.
"Wanna demonstrate it? '

---

Silence hung over the table, unhappy fields brushing against Prowl's bulky frame. His doorwings flaring ever so slightly at the feeling, as he controlled most of it. It annoyed him to no end how he could hear Smokescreen's doorwings moving like Unicron itself had taken over them. He had taught his second better than that.
The SiC decided to postpone the lecture on proper wings control to focus his attention solely on the white and red seeker sitting directly in front of him. Silverbolt was stiff and if Prowl's doorwings caught his field correctly, scared, but stared at them ignoring how every officer was glaring at him.

"It wasn't my fault, or my mechs', if Air Raid got shot! ' Silverbolt growled softly and his wings flared. Anger trying to cover the guilt, forcing the trembling wings to move aggressively. Classic. Prowl had seen too many times in the short period the Aerialbots had joined them not to know how to read even the l seeker wing language, even with the differences between seekers and praxians. If he wasn't so professional he would have rolled his blue optics.

'Aren't you the commander of the Aerialbots, Silverbolt?' Optimus' voice sounded from his side, the tone sharp and stern 'it was your responsibility, and most certainly was Air Raid's. "
Prowl didn't need to look at Optimus to know he was furious, the field, the voice and Silverbolt's expression were way enough. He was certain the young seeker would back down, so when he spoke again he had to stop his surprise from showing.

" It's Prowl's fault! He should have warned Air Raid of Thundercracker and Skywarp! He was late to notice! ' the mech snapped. Prowl felt his frown deepen. This accusation was outrageous in general to him, but said by a commander who had no control over his mechs? Who let his brother get hurt because of his inability to control him? He opened his mouth to reply, and was certain his voice would come out as a icy blade, but another preceded him.

"Are you glitched?" Smokescreen snapped much with his embarrassment. Prowl immediately moved his wings, giving him a sharp and strong order to go silent. And he knew his pupil had seen it, so even more rage filled him when he continued without even pausing.

" So let me get this straight, you winged jerk. You don't control your bots, an idiot gets in a position where he would surely be in danger, knowingly, only for recklessness and without any reason. He gets shot down only because of himself, and Prowl is at fault? " Smokescreen snarled in a evident fit of rage, ignoring how Prowl was repeatedly pinging him to shut up. " you little fragger-"

" Enough! ' Optimus boomed finally putting a end to it. Prowl wished he had stopped him out loud but he didn't like doing so, preferring private comms or wings. So he continued just watching in silence as the Prime regarded first Smokescreen and then Silverbolt with a stern gaze. The red mech looked very angry, enough for both to go silent, enough to even stop the murmur of approval at Smokescreen's words, and Prowl was grateful for that. Though he might be thankful they supported him, Smokescreen did not need to think his outburst was good.

"Silverbolt, you may be young and inexperienced but you can not put the blame on Prowl. He didn't have only your unit to keep track of. And commanders are supposed to keep mechs in line. We had this meeting to discuss what happened and simply give you a warning, but your disrespect toward the Second in Command won't be brushed away. I will tend to the punishment personally. ' Optimus continued as Prowl only half listened, pleased to hear the punishment choice wouldn't be his. Last thing he needed was being accused of being unfair or exaggerated because of hurt ego. The tactician relaxed slightly watching the young mech lower his helm, not daring to protest further.

The meeting went smoothly after that but it was largely unproductive. The problems with the Aerialbots were painfully clear. And Prowl, or anyone else, couldn't demand bots to magically have experience. They had been flying and fighting for so little it couldn't almost be counted in Cybertronian time. So they got nowhere. Controlling them was only on a young commander and no one else could do much from the ground.
When they finally all stood to leave, the Head Tactician left, not remaining behind to talk to Optimus like he usually did. He was tired, so pinged the leader, knowing he was surprised.

::Sir, I need to go back to work. If there's something I can help you with, I am off shift in two joors. :: he said crisply. He hated long transmissions.

::Alright Prowl. Don't work too hard. You know Ratchet will have your helm. :: was the only response he got and Prowl did not really care about the warning. He could deal with Ratchet. He just continued walking down to tactical with Smokescreen just a step behind. He could feel the younger Praxian's anxiety at his silence, worried he would get in trouble, and Prowl let that go on for a good while until they arrived in front of the entrance to his domain. He turned on his heels with such quickness to have the red and blue mech wince back, and flared his doorwings, letting dominance and rage flash through his frame language for a long moment.

"You will not put me in a embarrassing position not controlling your behavior in a senior staff meeting. Am I clear? '

" Y-Yes sir.'

"Good. '

With that Prowl turned to leave, but after a moment of hesitation let his doorwings lower for a klick.

Thank you.

Author's note: hey guys! Here we are with the second chapter! I hope you do like this one and that the different focuses that were in this weren't a problem.