Hey! There's a few things you should know about this story before you read it.
1. This story stands on its own fairly well, although you'll understand the context better if you've read at least until chapter 27 of Many Voices.
2. During the course of this story, our dear protagonist is going to make some choices and do some things that range from morally gray all the way to outright wrong. I hope that I have been able to portray that accurately, and that Jazz's poor decisions come across as realistic, but not acceptable or justified.
3. That said, you probably won't be surprised to hear that this story will be a little darker and contain more violence than my other stories so far. Fair warning.
4. I'll try to update every week, but I'm a busy college student and I do have other stories I'm working on, so I make no promises.
The streets of Polyhex 4 were dark and this part of the sector was eerily quiet. Jazz couldn't help but feel out of place among the smog and the towering, silent buildings. This close to the central sector should have been full of light and noise. In the on-cycle, these streets were crowded and lively.
Something about this place was wrong.
He skidded to a stop once he'd reached the coordinates he'd been given, and transformed back to root mode. He was about ready to either comm. someone or leave when he heard voices off to his left. He crept toward them cautiously, but it was only his friends.
"You think they couldn't get away?" Sideswipe asked.
"No," Blackangle said. "Jazz might have wimped out, but Stonethrow should be here. His creators didn't even come to graduation."
"Hey," Jazz swung around the corner, startling them.
"Oh, hi," Blackangle said, recovering quickly. "We almost thought you wouldn't show."
"Yeah," Jazz said flatly. "I heard. When have I ever wimped out?"
The other three looked at each other.
"I dunno," Sideswipe said. "Sometimes it seems like you want to."
Jazz shook his helm. "You mechs know what we're doing here? Cuz I don't like this place." Sunstreaker met his optics for a moment, and Jazz could tell the yellow twin agreed with him.
"No," Blackangle said. "Stonethrow's the one who said to meet here."
Silence fell as they waited.
One breem, two breems, ten breems.
"Ok, this is ridiculous. Somemech comm. him," Blackangle said.
Sideswipe put a finger to his audio receptor. "Stonethrow… Stonethrow, come in. Where the pit are you? Stones?" Sideswipe frowned. "What…hey!"
"What?" Blackangle asked.
"I got him for an astrosecond," Sideswipe said. "He says he's going to be a few breems. He'll meet us south of our position."
"South?" Blackangle said. "How far south?"
Sideswipe shrugged. "He didn't say."
Blackangle heaved a sigh. "Oh well, let's just go. If he can't find us then it's his own fault."
They started walking south, in the direction of Polyhex Central, and deeper into the labyrinth of alleys and darkness. Eventually the road ended in a T that branched off into two narrow alleyways.
"Where are we?" Sideswipe asked as they stopped in the silent intersection.
"Not sure," Blackangle said. "Stones said to go south."
"This whole thing is kind of fishy," Sideswipe said. "Not sure what that lunatic thinks he's trying to get us into."
Jazz heard something behind them and turned. The others followed his gaze.
"What is it?" Blackangle asked.
"Nothin'" Jazz couldn't shake the feeling somemech was watching them. Something was closing in on them.
"Jumpy this orn," Blackangle noted.
"Gotta bad feelin' is all," Jazz said.
"Don't think we should go back, do you?" Sideswipe asked with a grin, daring Jazz to back out.
"Said I got a bad feeling, not that I wanna go home," Jazz said. "Besides, weren't ya just complaining about Stones and his bad ideas?"
Blackangle looked at Jazz thoughtfully. He almost seemed to agree that something wasn't right here.
"Wazzap!" someone jumped out from around the nearest corner. Jazz jumped and Blackangle stumbled backward. Even the twins started.
"Stonethrow!" Blackangle said. "What the frag!"
"You mechs made it!" Stonethrow grinned.
"What's going on, Stones?" Blackangle said.
"You'll see," Stonethrow replied. "You'll see. This is going to be awesome!"
Jazz really didn't like the way he'd said that. He didn't trust Stonethrow's definition of awesome.
"Come on, mechs," Stones said. "We're adults now. We're done with secondary school! How crazy is that? We can do whatever we want! No more teachers! No more homework!"
"Yeah," Sunstreaker crossed his arms. "We can do whatever we want, Stonethrow. That doesn't mean we're doing whatever you want."
"s'matter?" Stonethrow said, looking slightly offended.
"We've been waiting and wandering around this Primus-forsaken place for half a joor on your whim," Blackangle said. "Now what the frag are we doing here? This had better not be some sort of joke."
"Don't worry," Stones said with a grin. "Come on."
Stonethrow was usually terrible at keeping secrets. Jazz felt even more uneasy as he followed the other mech down the dark alley he'd come from. Stonethrow certainly didn't seem to pick up on the uneasy tension in the atmosphere. One orn, he was going to get himself killed, Jazz was sure of it.
Jazz again felt like something was closing in on him. It was too quiet. Where was Stones taking them?
"If you get us arrested again, I'll kill you, Stones," Blackangle said.
"Don't worry about it."
"Hey, mechs," An unfamiliar voice said from the darkness. "You lost?"
Jazz saw a pair of red-purple optics come around some corner and then turned and saw another two pair behind. He made ready to fight as they were backed into an intersection and cut off from all directions. He and Blackangle stood back to back alongside the twins, who were also facing away from each other. At one point, they'd gotten cornered in an alley by a group of mecha who wanted their money. They'd made it out in much better shape than their adversaries, but there had only been three mechs that time, and now Jazz counted seven.
"This is Quantum territory," the mech at the lead said. "So I ask again, are you lost?"
Jazz's energon ran cold. He had heard of that before, somewhere. He didn't know much, but it was some sort of organization—something you heard about on the news in the context of violence and theft and disappearances.
"Poor, lost little mechs," another said, with barely contained, mad hilarity that sent a shiver up Jazz's spine.
"We're sorry," Blackangle said, with just enough sarcasm in his voice to hide his fear. "Mind helping a mech out and pointing us back to civilization?"
They laughed, except for the mech who seemed to be in charge. He just raised an optic ridge and waited for the others to calm down. "Well," he said. "Doesn't this young mech have some nerve." A grin spread across his faceplate. "Branch, you got some good ones this time."
Branch?
Jazz turned to his left as a mech he recognized stepped forward.
"Evening," Branchbinder said. "Stones was kind of worried you wouldn't show up."
All the mecha around them relaxed and stepped back, looking amused. The tension in the atmosphere dissipated as Branchbinder laughed. "You four looked about ready to pass out," he said. "Stonethrow didn't warn you, did he?"
"No," Blackangle said. "What's going on?"
"It's an invitation," Branchbinder spread his arms wide.
"To what?" Blackangle asked, narrowing his optics.
"Chill, Blackie," Jazz said, stepping forward. "This is what ya were talking about last time I saw you—whenever that was—isn't it?"
"Indeed," Branchbinder said. "It is. I'm surprised you remember that. In any case, you five are being offered a chance not everymech gets."
The twins looked at each other, and Blackangle frowned.
"Don't pull back now," Stones said. "We've got it made if we join Quantum."
"What if we don't want to take you up on that offer?" Blackangle asked.
"Then you're free to go," Branchbinder said. "Not sure what the five of you will do on your own, though. Surely you little criminals don't plan to all go out and get honest jobs now, do you?"
Silence fell.
"Thought not," Branchbinder said. "But you can go if you want to. I warn you, this is a one-time offer. You're in or you're out. Either way's permanent. You're in, you got to stick with us. You're out, you'll never hear from us again."
"Well, I'm in," Stonethrow said.
The twins looked at each other for a moment, then at Branch. Sideswipe put an arm over Sunstreaker's shoulder. "What else are we doing with our lives? We're in."
Sunstreaker pushed Sideswipe away. "Sure."
Jazz looked at Blackangle. His friend's expression was thoughtful, calculating. Jazz knew what his answer would be before he put it to words.
"I'm in too," he said with a half-smile. "This sounds like my kind of scene."
Jazz couldn't believe this was happening. Branchbinder nodded and turned to look at him. There was something almost desperate behind the tall mech's optics. "What about you?"
-One Vorn Ago-
"Hey! Mech in the back row. Get your pedes off your desk."
Jazz didn't move.
He heard the teacher's footsteps coming closer and sighed, but didn't un-shutter his optics. "Seventy-nine point six five eight vorns."
The footsteps stopped. "Excuse me?"
"Were ya gonna ask me to answer the question on the board? Or was there something else?"
It was a dangerous game, messing with teachers like this—some of them got pretty touchy when their authority was questioned. They also thought they were all-knowing. It irked them that a student who didn't seem to be listening knew all the answers.
Of course, the reason Jazz knew all the answers was because the questions were processor-numbingly easy. He hadn't thought he'd miss all the hard work of the school in Kalis, but this was ten times worse. There was nothing interesting at all to do besides play this game. If he pushed it too far, the teachers sent him home with notes for Vibes to read and sign, and then she could be even more disappointed in Jazz than she already was.
It was this friendly little cycle. Get bored, get in trouble, disappoint his femme creator, then try to be good and get bored again. Hacking the school's security monitors wasn't even interesting, because anyone could do it and no one cared.
Polyhex was a great metropolis of a city-state, and this was sector 4, which bordered Polyhex Central. There was no reason their education should be so bad. He wished Vibes hadn't moved while he was away in Kalis—he had at least had some friends back in Polyhex 17.
"Get your pedes off the desk," the teacher repeated.
Jazz complied, but didn't sit up.
"And pay attention."
Jazz smiled. "Ok," he said. He didn't need to pay attention. He already knew everything this teacher was going to say for the rest of the term.
The rest of secondary school was going to be pit.
And it was his own fault that he'd been expelled. He hadn't known Motormaster was going to pull that knife, but he had just stood and watched until it was almost too late. And he had been trying to blackmail the victim, and had stolen from him, and had helped another friend steal as well. With that sort of a record, you couldn't get into any good schools.
And so he was stuck in this pit of a place where the only honors classes were history and Cybertronian language, and there wasn't a single teacher who knew as much about technology or science as he did. He hadn't made any friends yet either—not that he had tried very hard.
"I said sit up straight and pay attention!" the teacher insisted. By this point the rest of the class was silent, and the teacher sounded like he was standing right over Jazz, who still hadn't un-shuttered his optics.
"If I ain't paying attention, how did I get the right answer?"
There were a couple of hushed giggles, but for the most part, the room was dead silent.
"Don't you talk back to me," the teacher said.
Jazz shrugged. "But ya asked me a question."
"Sit up! I have had enough of this!"
He sounded like he was pretty close to dragging Jazz from his chair and throwing him out of the room.
That might be interesting. He imagined the whole class watching as he ducked out of the way and knocked the teacher to the ground… but… that could get him into a lot of trouble.
"You think just because they kicked you out of your fancy private school, you can come in here and be disrespectful..."
And in any case, it would be wrong. Jazz finally un-shuttered his optics and looked down at his crossed arms. Yoketron wouldn't approve of him humiliating a teacher in front of the class.
"Look at me!"
Jazz looked up. "Sorry, mech, what'd you say? I wasn't listening."
"Get out! Get out of my classroom!" He jabbed one finger in the direction of the door.
The bell rang.
Jazz smirked, and waited. Then someone else stood up, and the whole room followed suit. Jazz stretched lazily and got out of his chair. The teacher turned around and stomped back toward the front of the room, fuming. Jazz had won this round, sort of. And then if he got home to hear that Vibes had been contacted about his misbehavior, he would lose. You didn't win when Vibes was mad at you.
He walked through the halls. They had a free joor now. Jazz would grab some energon and find somewhere secluded to hang out until his next class started.
"Hey, mech."
He didn't realize the other student was talking to him until someone bumped into him from the side.
"Hey."
Jazz glanced over.
The black and green mech walking next to him smiled. "That was pretty good timing back there."
Jazz shrugged. "I try."
"He even forgot to assign us homework."
"Ya're welcome."
"I'm Blackangle, by the way. What's your designation?"
"Jazz."
Jazz usually kept to himself. He'd sort of tried to make friends at first, but it had felt so fake. Make friends, pretend he was normal, pretend he cared about the things that they cared about. There was really no point to it.
This mech would probably give up in a few breems—a few orns if he was persistent. Jazz knew about Blackangle, anyway. He was one of the fledglings who was always getting caught stealing things or fighting or cheating. Just exactly the sort of friend Jazz knew he shouldn't make.
"So, uh…"
"Look," Jazz said. "I'm not real friendly, ya know? I'm glad somemech appreciates my ability to make teachers spit fire at me, but that don't mean I wanna talk to ya."
Blackangle seemed surprised for half an astrosecond, but then he shrugged. "Not real friendly myself. I get that. You ever want to come sit at my table in the energon hall, though, you're welcome."
Jazz considered the offer. It had been casually made, but was a solid and standing invitation to join Blackangle's group of friends. Very well done; even better than Verdict could have said it.
Of course, Jazz wasn't about to go sit with Blackangle's friends. He didn't want friends and he didn't deserve them, and besides none of the other students at this school knew anything about anything. Even if Jazz wanted to, he probably couldn't have an intelligent conversation with any of them.
Then again, it had been so long since he'd had any kind of conversation with someone who wasn't mad at him…
He and Blackangle walked silently next to each other to the energon hall. They walked to the energon dispenser together. Then Blackangle went off to his table in the corner of the room, and Jazz hesitated. He found he suddenly did want to join them.
Pride warred with his desperate need to have a real conversation with someone—someone who wasn't either angry at him or disappointed with him.
He stood by the side of the room, watching as Blackangle's friends showed up. He knew just from listening to other students talk that the red and yellow mech were split-spark twins. And the orange and gray one was known for his scuffed paint and inability to sit still.
They were different from Verdict's gang. These mecha were the outsiders. For the most part, they stuck together because no one else wanted to be around them.
And Jazz was already one of them, wasn't he?
He pushed off the wall and crossed the room to sit down at their table.
-The Present-
They were all looking at him in the too-quiet alleyway. Did he want to do this? He wasn't sure. But this was a one-time offer, and backing out now would make him look like a coward.
"I didn't peg you as the type to walk away from this," Branchbinder said. "But there's not room in our brotherhood for mecha who are afraid. Go drive home if you like."
"I didn't say I was afraid," Jazz glared. "I was thinking about it. What's in this for us?"
"It pays pretty well," Branchbinder said. "And we look out for each other."
"What do you do though?"
"What do you think?" Branchbinder asked, expression darkening. "Look, we don't have time for this. If you don't want in, you can go waste your talent in a factory or as a scrap collector."
Jazz frowned. "A scrap collector?"
"Mechling, you can't get a good job anywhere legitimate, not with your record. But if you don't think you're good enough to play this game in the real—"
"Fine," Jazz said. "I'm in."