Bring Some Bolt Cutters

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Jazz was surprised to receive a non-work comm from Hound. He and the scout rarely interacted outside of their duties except through Mirage. ::What's up?:: he responded.

::Jazz? I need a big favor from you. Kinda quiet-like.::

::Oh?::

::Ah, Mirage and I were having a little post-mission happy-time, and... and, uh, he sorta fell into recharge.::

Jazz was glad Hound couldn't hear him chuckle. Mirage had returned from a rather long, rather dangerous spying mission just some four hours previously. ::Need me to come finish the job?::

::I need a rescue.::

::A rescue?::

::I'm kinda tied up on his berth, and I have a patrol shift in thirty minutes. But I don't want to wake Mirage. You have the codes to his cuffs?::

Jazz couldn't stop himself from laughing this time.

::And his irons? You might want to bring some bolt-cutters too.::

::I'll be right there, Hound. Quiet as can be.::

::And please, if he ever found out I called you for a rescue, he'd be humiliated. I want to be able to tell him I escaped myself.::

::Of course. I've known Mirage a long time and I understand how he is.::

::And could you please please please ignore the state I'm in? It's not very dignified.::

::Sure you don't want to just wake him?:: Jazz asked. ::I think he'd understand.::

::Maybe I should.:: A moment passed. ::Could you please forget that I commed you?::

Jazz chuckled again. ::Deleting this conversation right now.::

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The End

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