Fandom: Transformers Bayverse/World of Darkness
Pairing: Jazz/Prowl, Sunstreaker/Sideswipe, Ratchet/Ironhide
Rating: PG
Codes: None
Summary: Bayverse. A decade after defeating Megatron and settling on Earth, a run of the mill meeting between Optimus Prime and a diplomat begins to open Autobot optics to the full complexities of the world they have adopted.

Notes: Jazz survived.

"text" normal, audible to every speech
::text:: radio communication. May or may not be scrambled and can be selectively delivered, though not that is not typical. It can be intercepted.
~text~ bond/touch communication. Only available to the one receiving it.

Units of time:
solar cycle. . . a local day
lunar cycle. . . local month
stellar cycle .. a local year
nanoklik. . . . .1 second
klik. . . . . . . . .1.2 minutes
breem. . . . . . 8.3 minutes
joor. . . . . . . . 1 hour
orn. . . . . . . . .a day on Cybertron (31 joor)
decaorn. . . . . a 'week' on Cybertron (8 orn)
metacycle. . . .a 'month' on Cybertron (1600 orn, 200 decaorn, 5.66 Terran years)
vorn. . . . . . . .a 'year' on Cybertron (16 metacycle, 128 decaorn, 25600 orn, 90.53 Terran years)

Disclaimer: All things Transformers belong to Hasbro. World of Darkness 1st edition elements (this kind of werewolf/vampires/etc, Glass Walkers, the Umbra, use of spirits, etc) belong to White Wolf http:/www. white-wolf. com The mutilated mashing of the above elements and the actual non-TF characters present is my fault.

Walking with Glass

Prowl's even voice was enough to lull almost anyone into recharge, but Optimus Prime had far too much experience with it, and respect for it's owner, to not pay full attention. Even if the subject was as dull as the events of the week Prime was obliged to attend.

"Prowl," he suddenly interrupted his third in command. "I am unfamiliar with that agency."

"The Howle Island Institute is listed a privately funded think-tank. They are being unusual secretive, however I do not find it surprising given the nature of the research I have been able to link to them," Prowl explained easily. "Very little seems to be less black, as the humans say, than we are. Their paperwork is in order however and Jazz could find no reason not to allow them to speak with us."

"Who else will be attending that meeting?" Prime asked, leaning forward slightly in interest. It was different at least.

"Jazz, myself and Ratchet," he answered smoothly. "They requested a meeting with the unit leader, head of Intel and CMO."

"And you decided anyone who's first meeting included asking for the three of us needed my third in command as well," Prime's mouth plates quirked into an amused smile. "Prudent."

"I believe so, Prime," he inclined his head slightly before continuing with the rest of the events of the week.

Major Lennox waited by the road that led to the human's-only parking lot, otherwise known as 'visitor parking', for the 2016 gunmetal grey Ford Mustang. The main gate had radioed it was headed his way with the dignitary of the day to escort to conference room two. That was the one that had been specialized for meetings with humans in person.

He tried not to shift as he waited. He hated envoy-sitting duty. Though he had to admit that the reaction of first-time visitors when they passed the holographic shield on the base and saw Autobot City for what it was did tend to be priceless.

From the screech of tires this one was going to be no different.

He grinned and casually walked up to the driver's door and tapped on the lightly shaded window. The dark-haired woman inside nearly jumped out of her skin, but quickly composed herself.

She was doing better than most, he noted with mild approval as the window went down. It gave him his first really good look at his assignment for the day, and he had to appreciate that she'd at least be more pleasant to look, and likely listen to, at than most. Late thirties, reasonably attractive in a professional diplomat kind of way, dark hair done up in a bun, light skin, hazel eyes and something in her bearing and body he couldn't name but understood instinctively; well-ingrained combat training.

Now that was unusual.

"Good afternoon Ma'am," he smiled a greeting to her. "I'm Major Lennox. If you would please unlock the passenger door, I'll guide you to your parking space and then the conference room."

"I'm Thera Jameson from the Howle Island Institute," she nodded faintly, most of her attention on the Cybertronian facility ahead of them, and reached to the inside of her door before the audible click of the locking mechanism sounded. He walked around the front of the two-year-old vehicle and easily slipped into the passenger seat. He took in an interior that looked as technologically advanced as some Autobot's native forms.

So she was definitely a technophile. That'd help a lot with the meeting she was about to have.

"Go forward and take the second left, where the other cars are parked," he instructed. Only belatedly he realized he should have reacted in surprise when the car began to move but she wasn't driving. "Umm, there's VIP parking nearest the building."

She broke her attention away from the sprawling city-like tower to give him a small reassuring smile. "I've done a lot of after-market upgrades to him. Tech is something of a fascination for me."

"Is that why you were chosen?" he asked, keeping a careful eye on how the car drove as it drove into VIP parking, found an empty spot and pulled in flawlessly.

"That and I am their top-ranked diplomat and trained extensively for first contact," she said with absolutely no conceit as the car's doors unlocked and opened for them and she slipped out with the kind of controlled grace that Prowl tended to display. "This is one meeting that both sides wish to go well."

Lennox nodded as they got out. He guided her to the open-top army green electric vehicles used for humans to transverse the large base. While much less luxurious than anyone's personal vehicle, they did the job and were easily able to share the hallways with the resident Cybertronians without being tripped over, taking up too much walkspace or left far behind. A part of him felt they were for the lazy, while another reminded him that they turned an hour-plus fast walk into a ten-minute or less drive.

"Do you spend much time with any of them?" Thera asked politely, though there was no doubting that she really did want to know what he did of those she was about to meet.

"More than with my own family some months, ma'am," he acknowledged the common truth of a soldier, even in a completely uncommon situation.

Her gaze going everywhere as she took in every bit of information she could, she spared one for him as they passed into the interior of the complex.

"The facility is called Autobot City, or Metroplex, depending on which translation you go with, ma'am," he offered unprompted. "I still don't understand more than a handful of non-battlefield words in Cybertronian and most of their names, but I've learned enough to know that direct translations with names are iffy at best. Most of them just pick something that feel is a fitting word of phrase and use that."

"How long have you been assigned this unit, Major?" Thera was decidedly interested now, though her eyes followed every Autobot that cross their path, soaking in every detail she could.

"Since the beginning, almost eleven years now, ma'am," he told her. "A lot's changed."

"I can imagine," she smiled faintly, taking on an almost Jazz-like look of knowing the level of understatement and amusement at the fact. "What will you tell me of their leader, Intel Chief and CMO?"

Lennox gave her a curious glance.

"The information I have is ... questionable ... in my opinion," she elaborated on her desire. "I have no doubt you know far more than whoever wrote the report I had as a briefing. The most appropriate address for them in English if nothing else."

He couldn't deny the truth of that, or that her minimum request was entirely reasonable.

"They all go by English names, at least when they're talking to humans, ma'am. Their leader is Optimus Prime. His name is Optimus; Prime's a title. I don't think anyone in the Autobots outranks him; at least not anyone alive. He's the big guy with the red and blue flame paintjob. He's big on the honor thing, and on protecting life."

"Jazz is Intel, but he's really more of a social butterfly crossed with an anthropologist than anything else," Lennox chuckled. "He's the short silver one with the visor and permanent grin.

"The neon yellow mech's Ratchet. He's in charge of medical, which is somehow different from engineering/mechanical. Perpetual grouch with deadly aim and an endless supply of wrenches he uses to keep everybody else in check, but according to everybody not human, he'd the best medic Cybertron's produced in a long time.

"They're all good guys, just keep in mind that they've been at war longer than humans have existed and they're still coming down from being the front line of war for much of their lives," he summed up what he intended to give her. More than her minimum, but far from everything he knew. Just the things he knew Prime would appreciate her knowing before first meeting him.

"Thank you," she inclined her head in appreciation. "The markings on the walls and on the doors, it is their written language?"

Lennox took a moment to glance at the nearest one, even though he knew full well what she was talking about.

"Yes, ma'am," he nodded. "I can't make heads or tails of it, but I don't try much. All I know for sure is that it's not just a simple alphabet."

"It's glyph based, Major," she said easily. "Not too different from translating Chinese to English from the look of it."

"You can tell all that from a couple door signs?" he looked at her with a new eye.

"From the thirty-eight I've passed since entering base property along with the English at human eye level," she corrected calmly. "It's not enough to translate any but the most simple ciphers, but it is enough to have a basic idea of what I'm looking at, if it was a language and not simply decoration."

"You don't miss much, do you?" Lennox gave her a sly smile before pulling into a cut out designed to hold four of the electric carts.

"It is as much a part of first-contact training as it is yours," Thera told him and slipped out of the passenger side door without waiting for him.

Smart, observant, independent, determined and strong-willed with a ready, if contained, smile. Jazz would love her.

Lennox couldn't help but smile to himself at the thought of their first break together. It was likely to be enlightening to both sides and draw more than a few groans from others.

"Hay Hound," he called out a greeting to the green scout and received a warm greeting in turn. "This way, ma'am," he motioned Thera to follow him into the conference room. He knew it was a small, relatively cozy one, but he had little doubt it look enormous to her even though there were four giant mechs already present around the table that took up much of the interior. "Ambassador Thera Jameson of the Howle Island Institute," he announced.

"Thank you, Major Lennox," Prime said, his deep voice vibrating all around them despite the pleasant tone.

He saluted and left, more than mildly curious at what was going to be discussed that he didn't have clearance for.

Thera took the moment to contemplate the four giant robots sitting at the table. Optimus Prime, Jazz and Ratchet were there, both according to her briefing and the Major. The fourth, a medium-sized white one with black markings and decidedly police-like markings, was another high-ranking officer; Prowl, if her briefing was correct.

"Welcome to Autobot City, Ambassador Jameson," Prime greeted her warmly when the door had shut behind the Major, leaving her the only human in the room. "Please join us," he motioned to the corner of the table nearest her.

Before she could even contemplate what he meant, much less ask, it registered that said corner was a platform lift.

"Thank you, Optimus Prime," she inclined her head to him respectfully, having to trust that a decade allied with the US military had taught them at least the intentions of basic American body language, even if it didn't match their own. She stepped onto the platform and took a brief moment to appreciate the smooth ride to the giant-sized table's surface.

As she came even, she realized it was a slightly more complex construction. There was a section, almost a table on top of the table, on her side, complete with chair, and it would put her much closer to eye level with her hosts. At least as even as the two shorter ones were to Prime. It wasn't quite as even as she liked, but then with the shortest robot - Jazz - being about half the height of the tallest - Prime - that just wasn't possible.

"Please sit, Ambassador Jameson," Prime rumbled pleasantly. "I am Optimus Prime, the leader of the Autobots," he introduced himself formally. "This is Jazz, my First Lieutenant and Chief of Intelligence," he indicated the small, relatively lithe silver robot to his right that watched her from behind a visor but had a ready smile that seemed quite genuine. "Prowl is my Lieutenant and Chief of Security Forces," he indicated the white robot to his left. "And Ratchet is our Chief Medical Officer," he motioned to the neon yellow one between her and Jazz.

"It is a pleasure to meet all of you," Thera said with polite warmth and absolute honesty. It was beyond a pleasure; it was her life's goal and she'd fulfilled it before her third decade was over. "I hope it is the first of many in a strong alliance."

"A worthy goal," Prime agreed. "Perhaps you can begin by telling us of the Howle Island Institute you represent?"

Thera smiled warmly, far more at ease than she had any right to be, but the resonance of this place, these robots with such strong spirits in them, made her want to melt, curl up against their chassis and soak up the warmth that was like nothing native to Gaia yet.

"It is a research facility and organization focused on advancing technology, particularly artificial intelligence, robotics, cybernetics and space travel. While we are not a country, we do maintain independence from all government control," she began easily, the explanation coming to her smoothly after giving it so many times.

"Where does your funding come from?" Prowl asked, his voice as emotionless as anything she'd heard.

It was starling in a very real way.

"Are you all right, Ambassador?" Ratchet asked before she could even answer Prowl. "Your heart rate has spiked and your chemical balance has shifted sharply."

"I am fine Ratchet" she responded to the CMO first, turning to face who she was speaking to as she always did. "Prowl's voice merely surprised me."

"My voice?" Prowl raised a plate above his optic sensors.

Jazz just about lost it trying not to laugh, then he gave up repressing it when the mood lightened. "Only you, Prowler!" he nearly howled in delight. It earned him a bemused look from Prime and a menacing scowl from Prowl.

"How many times do I have to tell you? My designation is Prowl," he said firmly.

Thera smiled at the relaxed interaction. "If it is acceptable to you, I would like to present the purpose for my presence."

"Of course," Prime nodded to her, watching carefully as she slid a flash drive into the port in her table. The list of contents, a dozen pictures, were immediately sent to all four mechs.

"These are pictures of one of the Institute's secondary projects," she told them as the first image appeared on the table's surface.

All four Autobots stiffened sharply at the sight of one of their own half disassembled and with obvious heavy battle damage. While it looked like some effort had been made to make him look mostly intact, it didn't cut it for those who'd seen too much battle damage in their lives.

"Where is he?" Ratchet found his voice first, and it was the low rumble of deadly warning when it came out.

"At the Institute," Thera answered calmly, only mildly surprised at the extreme reaction. Or at least she felt it was extreme. "As far as we can tell, he is still alive," she tried to calm the CMO down, sure he was reacting from medical protocols that were demanding he get to a badly damaged patient without delay. "We've been rebuilding it for eighty years. I know the damage looks bad, but it..."

"He," Jazz interrupted her. "His name's Blurr, and he's a mech."

She nodded, filing that away for later clarification. "He is in much better condition than when we found him."

"Eighty years..." Ratchet tried to process that, his attention torn between the pictures that continued to flash across the table and the human femme he was speaking to. "How ... why do you believe he is alive?"

"The internal power supply, both of them, are still functioning, and he sometimes responds to stimulus," she explained, hoping the CMO didn't ask for any more details.

"Why have you shown us this?" Prime stopped the storm that was readying to explode.

Thera drew a deep breath to calm herself. "I am here to ask for a deal. We will return Blurr to you for two things, one of which, his designation, you have already given. The other is an agreement to sit down with the Institute's leaders in formal treaty talks."

Optimus Prime regarded her for a long moment, trying to work out her language and her demands. He would have easily agreed to both conditions without any offer on their side. Yet the language seemed to imply he would require a bribe bordering on a threat to do so. Or could it be that something was being lost in translation as she meant it as a token of good faith. That did make more sense.

As he formulated a reply, she abruptly stiffened when a soft, low frequency vibration came from a device on her person.

::Anger, embarrassment, fear.:: Jazz silently translated the rapid change of her expression before she got herself fully under control with a will that even Prowl respected.

"My apologies, Optimus Prime," she stood and bowed to him. "I really must take this call."

"Of course," he inclined his head in acceptance.

"What takes precedence over this meeting?" Prowl asked as she stood, causing her to stiffen again.

"This," she made a snap decision and flicked her hand to her ear. The speakers imbedded in the table sprang to life with the sounds of crashing metal, breaking glass, shouts in at least two languages and growls and cries of people and animals in pain. "What is Blurr's designation as you pronounce it?" she focused on Prowl.

Too surprised not to respond, he answered her, the clicks and harmonics of Cybertronian language flowing easily from his vocalizer.

Thera took a deep breath and focused inward, her world narrowing to the communications relay she'd been called on.

"Thom, clear out the lab. Security and science. Transfer me to lab three," her voice was strong and even, holding far more authority than she had presented herself with.

::Thank Cockroach!:: an utterly relieved male voice greeted from the new connection.

"Is everyone clear?" she demanded calmly.

::Almost. Almost,:: he sounded nervous and more than a little frightened when another crash echoed in the background. ::What can you do from there?:: the voice was growing close to hysterical again.

"What I do," Thera responded evenly and touched the near-invisible earpiece she wore, causing a HUD display to flash into place in front of her eyes. She took a deep breath and seemed to let go, giving herself over to instinct, or something like it, as flawless Cybertronian flowed from her as smoothly as it did from any native. "Blurr. Stand down." She ordered calmly with just the right amount of authority.

::Whoareyou? WhereamI?:: the speed of the voice on the other side was almost enough to fritz Prowl's audio processor.

Thera blinked, her mouth slightly open for a moment as her brain tried to process the far too quick speech in a very alien language. She did before anyone else thought to act however, took a deep breath and spoke as fast as the mech on the other end. "IamThera. YouareonHowlIsland."

::Idon'tknowyou!:: Blurr all but hissed, interrupting her along with the crash and crackle of electrical systems being damaged echoing over the transmission.

"YouaresafeBlurr. Standdown. Laydown. Recharge." She countered, wincing at another crash and dropped her vocal speed by half. "Blurr! Iam with OptimusPrime. Iwill bring hismedic asap. You must stop."

::Prime?:: he almost slowed down to normal speed. ::Primeiswithyou?:: he sped back up.

"YesBlurr," she responded at his speed. "Youaresafe. Helpiscoming."

There was a fraction of a second's pause, quite a lengthy one for the high-speed mech. ::Allright whatarethosefleshythings?::

"Nativesentientlife. Quadrupeds're wolves. Bigfurrybipedsare crinos. Mostlyfurlessbipedsare humans," she rattled off the names, switching from Cybertronian to English with ease for the things that had no direct translation. "Lay down. Recharge. A medic is coming," she insisted, her body swaying slightly where she stood.

:: Allright,:: Blurr agreed. ::Havethemlelavemealone.::

"No one will touch you until I arrive," she promised wearily.

::Allright. I'llliedownnow,:: he consented, the sounds around him quieting with the distinctive click and scrape of metal laying down on metal.

"Thankyou, Blurr," Thera said before switching channels.

:: Whatever you said, it's...::

"He," she interrupted, correcting the man on the other end. "His name is Blurr."

::He's back on the table,:: the man breathed a deep sound of relief.

"And no one is going in that room until I arrive. Understood?" her tone went deadly with more than a vague resemblance to Ratchet.

::Yes Ma'am,:: the response from the other side was suitably frightened.

"Good," Thera said before closing the channel and turned to focus on Ratchet, visibly unsteady on her feet. "Please don't make a liar out of me."

The medic was so focused on her that he blinked his optics in surprise and took a moment to process just what she was asking of him.

"I am going. You need medical attention as well," he pointed out gruffly, literally daring Prime to contradict him. "Your energy reserves were heavily drained by what you just did."

"I'm quite aware of the cost of using my Gifts," Thera told him wearily, her body beginning to tremble when she reached for the upper table top for support. She got both under control quickly though, to everyone but the medic's sensors. "Will you be bringing assistants or warriors?"

"Take the twins with you," Prime ordered.

"Mass for each, Prime?" she turned her attention to him.

"Ratchet weighs 3.4 metric tonnes. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe weigh 2.9 metric tonnes each," Prowl answered instead. "We have a transport that can take them where you need to go."

"Human crewed or one of you?" she asked, her equilibrium beginning to steady.

"It has a human crew," Prowl answered.

"Thank you, but it would be better if we use one of our own," she said politely. "It is much faster for Tangrlo to get here than it would be to clear a human crew to land on Howle Island by a matter of days."

"How long till we leave?" Ratchet interrupted, eager to get to his patient.

"A moment and I'll find out," Thera's attention focused on the near-invisible HUD again.

"I know you're off duty," she said calmly after a moment. "You're the only unloaded transport who can make the distance and weight." She paused. "That will do. Thank you." She closed the channel and looked at Ratchet. "ETA is two hours, expect half that. We can take off as soon as you're on board."

"How long will it take to arrange for the formal alliance talks you are here to request?" Prime asked as Ratchet left the room to prepare his mobile surgical kit.

"Forty eight hours," Thera answered, though she didn't quite manage to suppress her surprise.

::Ratchet, how long do you believe it will take you to repair Blurr?:: He asked.

::Are you kidding?:: Ratchet's fury over not being with his patient had already began to bleed over. ::More days than I care to think about. Maybe even First Aid. And Primus only knows what kind of damage they did to him trying to 'repair' him!::

"Would you be agreeable to showing Jazz and Wheeljack around the Institute until then?" Prime asked, hoping that she'd allow the advanced intel those two were uniquely qualified to provide. "Wheeljack is one of my best inventors."

Thera blinked, too surprised to respond for a fraction of a moment. Then she smiled warmly and him and Jazz. "I would be delighted to. The only issue is that we are unprepared for such a visit. Our knowledge of your needs is regretfully absent."

"Not ah problem," Jazz assured her happily. "If ya've got space, we can handle the rest."

"We have space," Thera look at him with something bordering on adoration for a second before becoming professional again. "And any supplies we can provide," she promised before turning to Prime again. "Would you be adverse to setting the meeting for six days from now? It would give the time to convene a full board and prepare a suitable conference room."

"That is agreeable," Prime inclined his head slightly. "It would be simpler to hold the meeting here," he offered. "We are set up for it," he motioned to the table and the less visible but more important aspects of being designed to accommodate what the human facility was not.

He knew simply from her hesitation that whatever secrets were expected to be traded during the meeting, she didn't trust their security to keep the information secret.

"I will make the offer to the board," she promised instead. "As eager as they are to meet you, I do not know if they will accept it."

"I understand," Prime inclined his head slightly.

"Thank you," she nodded in return. "I would like to meet the others who will be coming today."

"I'll intraduce ya," Jazz offered, already standing up and offering his hand to the woman.