Author's Note: I said I wasn't going to post anything here, but this just kind of spilled out this morning and I thought 'why not?'. Set after the 80's movie. Sorry if this seems out of character. I've never posted anything Transformers for critique before, so I'd love to get some.
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It wasn't fair.
He was the only one left. There were others of Prime's detachment left, yeah, but he was the only officer. Jazz stared silently into his cube of energon. If he opened his vocalizer to speak, he might never stop screaming.
Someone took his energon and slipped a cube of magenta colored high grade in front of him. Jazz hardly looked up as the twins sat down with him.
"Just because he has the Matrix doesn't make him our leader," Sunstreaker growled.
"And Magnus is shit with battle plans," Sideswipe added. "We'll never slag the rest of the 'Cons at this rate."
Jazz gave them a measured look.
"Plus that paintjob is horrible. We could never follow an eyesore like that."
Jazz picked up the high grade and downed it fast. It burned the whole way down.
The next battle, the three mechs went on the field with the Pit in their optics. They tore 'Con after 'Con apart as brutal as they could be. They kept their comms off, ignoring any orders from Rodimus and Magnus. They had scores to settle.
They stood at the front of the Autobot line as the Decepticons retreated, firing until they were long out of range.
A section of the med bay, a back corner at best, became theirs. Sunstreaker and Jazz hauled themselves up onto a berth and stared at the floor. Ratchet's domain without Ratchet was nothing they wanted to see.
With quick fingers, Sideswipe began collecting tools and parts right from under First Aid's nose.
Rodimus stormed over to the two sitting mechs. "What did you think you were doing out there?! You could have gotten yourselves killed! Not to mention anyone else if they decided to follow your bit-brained example!"
Jazz looked up at him, visor burning with a light haze of purple. Rodimus took an involuntary step backwards.
"Aid will fix you when he's done with everyone else," Rodimus snapped.
Sideswipe came over and dumped his load on the berth between Jazz and Sunstreaker. He got to work on the worst of Sunstreaker's injuries. "No need," he said with a lightness he didn't feel. "I was in here as often as Aid was. You don't stay around Ratchet that long without picking up something."
Rodimus waited a minute longer, looking like he wanted to say something else. The three never glanced at him again.
The brig became their permanent home. They were thrown in for every incidence of insubordination, per Magnus' orders. It made no difference. They weren't going to follow Rodimus, and Rodimus couldn't afford to keep them off the battle field.
Bluestreak came to see them. He stood as close at the energon bars would allow. "Why do you keep doing this?" he asked. "Hot Rod – I mean Rodimus Prime – isn't a bad leader. He's learning fast and Magnus is definitely getting the hang of battle planning. He's been reading some of Prowl's datapads and getting a better idea of everyone's strengths-"
"It's not about how good of leaders they are, Blue," Sideswipe broke in.
"What is it about, then?"
Jazz picked up his head. His purple visor glowed eerily in the dim lighting.
"Vengeance," Jazz whispered.