Even before the War, Jazz had never been a mech who was content with pushing data-work, nor did he ever have to. He had just travelled from city to city, playing his music, sing, dance… in short, be the life and soul of the party. Sure, it had been a happier, less burdensome life; but, even now that the entire planet had been caught in the storm of War and he was the third-in-command of the Autobot faction, he was still a mech who couldn't sit and analyse odds, tactics, defenses and offenses. He preferred to be out in the field, where the action was, especially if it meant teaching the Decepticons a good lesson or two. It was the reason that he had taken up the position of saboteur, other than the obvious one (being good with wiring and explosives).
For better or for worse, however, his job as a saboteur didn't really occupy him 24/7. Most of the time, he had to spend it waiting till someone handed him a mission that actually involved blowing stuff up and, naturally, not all missions were of that nature. And today was one of those days, so Jazz had decided to make the most out of it by listening to his favourite songs at full blast.
The door of his office swooshed open, revealing Prowl. The tactician had his hands full with datapads and carrying a business-like air, as always; but something told Jazz that Prowl hadn't come here to just pick up Jazz's report. Besides, even if he had only come for that…
Prowl raised an optic ridge, and he signalled to Jazz to lower the tune-player. They were not having this conversation while trying to make themselves heard over the music.
Catching his friend's drift, Jazz swiped his hand over the player, lowering the volume. "Better?" he asked.
"Much," Prowl said. "Now… Should I hope you have completed your report or should I logically assume you haven't?"
Busted. Jazz put on his charming smile. "If it makes you feel any better, it's perfection itself in my mind, man. I can have it ready before you say 'Jumping metro-cats in hot-tiled roofs'!"
"Without any spelling errors this time, I trust."
"Oh ouch, Prowl, you're hurting my mech feelings right here, man," Jazz said, patting his chest plate.
"You'll live," the tactician deadpanned. "However, asking for your report was simply an off-side request. I actually came to tell you that Prime has asked us officers to meet him in the conference room."
Jazz frowned gently, the news catching him by surprise. "Did he say what it was about?"
Prowl's lips tugged to a small, lopsided smile. "You know I can walk and explain at the same time, Jazz."
"Alright, point taken and acknowledged," the saboteur replied, rising. He swore, Prowl was just about the only mech on Cybetron who stayed gracious even when he basically said 'Just get your exhaust port moving.' Not that everyone picked up right up on that, in all honesty; Jazz simply knew the tactician that well. "So what's going on, man? The Decepticons are up to their usual mischief again?"
"No, the Decepticons are only part of the equation in this case," Prowl said as they started walking down the corridor. "It has to do with our negotiations with the city of Vos."
Right… Jazz had been aware that the Boss Bot had been trying to convince the citizens of Vos to join the Autobot cause. He had been for so long, in fact, that the saboteur had all but forgotten about that. "Have we got a reply then?"
"No. But it seems we're to get our answer soon enough."
"Should I guess the answer or will I sound too pessimistic?"
"I don't think I've ever heard you pessimistic, Jazz," Prowl said, a soft smile forming on his lip components.
"The situation is trying very hard, though," the saboteur replied. "And, besides, I still remember Mr 'We-can-handle-ourselves' attitude pretty well."
"The Overlord is thinking that, if he accepts an alliance with the Autobots, it will catch Megatron's attention," Prowl said thoughtfully. "If that is to happen, he will have to deal with the guilt and wonder whether his actions led to his people's demise."
"I get that, man, but this is the Big Bad we're talking about," Jazz pointed out. "It's not like he needs a reason to attack, if he puts his processor into it."
"And that is exactly what we're trying to help him understand," Prowl said. "And, stubborn as he may be, all we can do is keep trying. There are still others we can appeal to for help."
"And if they don't help out, we can always kick some Decepticon-aft to vent off some steam," Jazz added, smiling crookedly.
"There's that too," the tactician said wry and he pressed the call-button.
"Enter," Optimus' voice sounded, gentle yet firm as always.
Considering that their cue, Prowl and Jazz walked in, nodding in greeting in Optimus' direction.
"Good. You're both here," Optimus said, his smile audible under his faceplate. "We can now begin."
Jazz's optics drifted to the conference table and, by the look of things, every officer was there. Trailbreaker gave a little friendly wave to the newcomers (he always was the most sociable one), whereas Ultra Magnus settled with a dignified nod. Ironhide was right next to them, his hands knitted together and his countenance quite sober but stoic. And then there was Smokescreen, one of the more recent additions in the team, seeming the epitome of relaxation as he rested his back against the chair with his legs crossed. Red Alert, on the other hand, looked anything but relaxed as his fingers gently drummed on the surface of the table.
"We should have started five breems ago," he said.
"Don't worry, Red. You'll return to your duties once this meeting's over," Optimus replied calmly before putting his hands behind his back, getting down to business. "I do believe you all know why you're here; you're wondering if we can count on the city of Vos in our war against the Decepticons. The Overlord sent his answer two megacycles ago, and I'm sorry to say that he has officially denied all our offers for a beneficial alliance. He believes the City of Vos can deal with this crisis alone."
"Can't say I've ever heard full-out war referred to as crisis before," Jazz pointed out wryly.
"That would be because it's the wrong terminology for it," Prowl deadpanned.
"So that's it? We're giving up on them?" Smokescreen asked, raising an optic ridge of intrigue.
"Indeed not," Optimus said, pressing several buttons. "Hound has scouted ahead and showed us the safest route to reach the City of Vos. I'll use it in order to get there and speak with the Overlord myself. There's a chance I can convince him to reconsider his decision."
"With all due respect, it's highly unlikely, considering the Overlord's stubborn nature," Prowl pointed out.
"I am aware of that, Prowl, but it's a chance that we'll have to take, if it means helping the Autobot cause and Cybertron," Optimus replied.
Red Alert, however, shook his head. "I'm against it. You could be ambushed by Decepticons on the way there."
"I know that, Red, that's why you're coming with me; your higher sensors will detect any danger that there could be out there. Prowl, I want you in the team as well. We need any skilful diplomat we can get."
"Understood," Prowl said. "And, if I may, I suggest Jazz and Ironhide to keep things running while we're gone."
"Agreed," Optimus said.
"Thanks, man," Jazz cut in, grinning.
"Aw, don't worry, Prowl; we'll make sure that the Decepticons stay perfect little sparklings," Ironhide said in his familiar drawl.
"How long are we to stay there?" Red Alert asked then.
"I can't give you a clear answer to that, Red. Only that it's going to be as long as necessary," Optimus replied.
"Which could be a very long time…" Red mused, his objection quite audible. Even so, he nodded his acquiescence in the next moment. "And when are we leaving?"
"In the next few megacycles. The Decepticons have been quiet for now, so we must use this to our advantage."
Unbeknownst to Optimus, however, three inconspicuous Decepticons had already managed to infiltrate the base. Worse, they were currently perched in a corner, under the guise of a security camera, observing and recording everything.
Though things seemed quiet in the Decepticon Base from the outside, the truth was that the tension was almost stifling. Megatron ruled the faction with an iron hand, daring anyone to challenge his authority. And why would they? Every Decepticon knew better than to doubt the very mech who had united them all under a single insignia and led them from one victory to the next. That is, every Decepticon who didn't go by the name of Starscream. Though the former scientist had proven perfectly able to climb up the ranks of the Decepticon hierarchy, it was no secret that he had managed it by manipulating, lying to and backstabbing everyone who was an obstacle on his way… and he didn't bother hiding his true ambitions anymore. Not even from Megatron himself.
"Another quiet day of brooding, oh wise leader Megatron?" he said. "I'm sure the Autobots will appreciate the break that you've oh so generously given them."
Megatron snorted from his seat, not even bothering to look away from the battle plans on his computer screen. "What you call brooding, I call planning. But I suppose that is too complicated for you to grasp, Starscream."
"Oh, I see. You plan to bore the Autobots to death," Starscream replied. "How didn't I see it before, I wonder…"
Megatron decided enough was enough and whipped around, his slap practically sending Starscream flying. The air commander certainly didn't find himself on the ground, and his pride vanished to be replaced by fear reflected in his optics.
"Your insolence is going to be your undoing one day, Starscream," The Decepticon leader said, holding up his fusion cannon. "Especially if it outweighs your usefulness."
"I'm still your second-in-command and air-commander of your tetrajet forces, Megatron. You need me!" Starscream said in a whine.
"Doubtful."
But it seemed luck was on Starscream's side that day, for it was in that very moment that sounded the familiar alarm of an incoming transmission.
"Shockwave to Megatron. Reflector reports from inside Iacon," the one-optic'ed mech said, his form already revealed on screen.
"Has he now? Excellent," Megatron said, lowering his fusion cannon. "It's refreshing to know that I have useful Decepticons." His obvious jab went unchallenged by the injured party, just as Megatron had suspected, so he considered the nuisance dealt with and focused on the matter at hand. "Show me what he's found, Shockwave."
"Of course, Megatron," Shockwave replied, and the screen changed to the inside of the Autobot Base… in the middle of a meeting, no less.
"Very efficient. It seems the Autobots' security isn't as impenetrable as they would have us believe," Megatron commented with a smirk. "Turn up the volume, Shockwave. Let's listen in on them for a while."
Shockwave complied, and Optimus Prime's voice filled the room.
Hound has scouted ahead and showed us the safest route to the City of Vos. I'll use it to get there and speak with the Overlord myself.
"You'll never get the chance, Prime," Megatrong commented. "I'll make sure of that."
"This is our chance, Megatron!" Starscream exclaimed in that very moment. "We could wait for Optimus Prime and hit him on his way there!"
"And that is why you will only rule the Decepticons over my dead body, Starscream," Megatron said. "If we ambush Prime on his way to Vos, the other Autobots will figure out we were spying on them and compromise Reflector. No… If we're to deal with Prime, we must make our enemy believe it was a coincidence…" With that, he pressed the button to activate the communication frequencies. "Decepticons… time to pay our dear Autobots a visit."
The meeting had ended without much further fuss, and Jazz found himself with two options: either go back to his office and fill in his report, or go have an energon drink with some good company. Of course, when one created a mental image of the least favourite option being catapulted to infinity and beyond by the weight of the other option, well… they could hardly talk about choices, could they? Besides, Jazz knew just the ideal company for that energon. He did have to say goodbye to Prowl after all. With that in mind, Jazz grabbed a vial and two cubes, and then headed towards Prowl's quarters. Knowing his friend, he would already be packing for the journey.
Sure enough, the first thing that Jazz noticed when the door to Prowl's room opened were the numerous datapads that clearly contained notes about the negotiations, all spread out on his berth and, undoubtedly, in order of importance.
"Can I help you, Jazz? Prowl asked with a gentle frown upon seeing his friend.
"Yeah, you sure can," Jazz replied, waltzing in without as much as bothering to ask for permission, and held up the vial. "You can help me empty this."
The tactician let out a soft huff. "Jazz, I need to get ready for the trip."
"The trip is in two megacycles, you have plenty of time."
"Not when I have to make sure I've got-"
"-Everything?" Jazz cut in. "Come on, man, making yourself crazy won't help. Just take a quick breem, have a drink, and then I'll go. I've seen you handle yourself in more stressful conditions than that."
Prowl's gaze drifted between Jazz and the vial for a few astroseconds, pondering his options; but he finally reached for one of the cubes with a look of wry amusement.
"Perhaps you should go negotiate with the Overlord. You'd have him wrapped around your little finger at 'Hello'."
"Well, thanks but… as good as I am, I'm not that good," Jazz said with a chuckle. He sat down and filled both cubes with the fluorescent liquid. "Cheers, Prowl."
Prowl lifted his own cube graciously, and they both had their first sip.
"Oh, almost forgot," Jazz said then, catching the second berth from the corner of his eye. "Shall we save some for your roommate?"
The tactician nodded. "He'll appreciate it. And, please, look after him while I'm gone, will you?"
"Sure thing," Jazz said. "When does his patrol end?"
"Should be soon enough, provided the team doesn't-"
Prowl never got he chance to complete his sentence, for it was in that very moment that alarms bellowed at full volume. The two Autobots immediately exchanged a glance, the same grim look on their features.
"Just when we thought the Decepticons decided to go on vacation…"
Prowl nodded, setting the cube aside in a smooth motion. "We'd better check it out."
"Right behind you," Jazz said, downing his energon in a single gulp, and he followed the tactician out the door and straight to the control room. Optimus Prime and the rest of the officers were already there, assessing the situation. And, unfortunately, by the look of things, said situation was bad.
"Somebody must have let the Decepticons know we were bored," Smokescreen deadpanned.
"There's no use complaining about it," Optimus replied, already grabbing his rifle. "The eastern perimeter must be protected at all costs. Autobots, roll out!"
No one needed to be told twice. Once everyone was in their vehicle modes, they followed Optimus outside at full throttle towards the eastern perimeter of the city. Even so, by the time they had arrived at the scene of the attack, the battle was already raging on. Jazz caught sight of Windcharger and Cliffjumper pinned down, doing their best to at least cover Brawn and the Twins, who were wreaking havoc in the enemy lines. Ratchet, on the other hand, was doing his best to treat Grapple, which wasn't the easiest thing to do while trying to avoid getting hit by a stray blast.
"Yo, doc, heads up! Reinforcements are here!" the saboteur said, transforming and rushing to Ratchet's side to offer him backup.
"Not to sound ungrateful, but you folks took your sweet time," Ratchet said gruffly, not bothering to look up.
"Aw, you know what they say: better late than never," Jazz countered, cocking his gun and firing.
"If Grapple were conscious, he would have something else to say about that... Primus, frag it all!" A blast barely missed the medic, something that had him more than just a little seething. He grabbed his gun and, one well-aimed shot later, the tetrajet came crashing down. "Can you keep these goons away from me already?"
"We're on it," Jazz said, rather glad that Ratchet was on their side. Sure enough, Trailbreaker was already using his force-field to protect the pinned down Autobots, while Optimus separated into his three components, his anti-aerial unit firing at the Decepticons flying above them.
-Prowl to Jazz, - the tactician's voice sounded then in the secret frequency. – Do you read, Jazz?-
-Loud and clear, buddy, - Jazz said. - You in trouble?-
- No, but you will be. Three, left flank. –
Realising what Prowl was telling him, Jazz took out a grenade out of subspace and threw it at the three Decepticons that were stealthily approaching him. The grenade landed among them, causing them to run as far away from the radius of the blast as fast as possible.
-Thanks, bud,- Jazz said.
-No problem. Help Ratchet get Grapple away from the line of fire.-
-As long as we somehow get to avoid them firing on us, sure! Got any ideas?-
"I have one," another voice interjected and, to Jazz's surprise, Smokescreen appeared, his engine revving. "And that's living up to my name." Before the saboteur even had the chance to utter a word, the newcomer had already driven off, a puff of smoke covering everything.
"I hate show-offs," Ratchet said with a long-suffering sigh.
"Beggars can't be choosers, Ratch," Jazz pointed out. "Now come on, let's haul aft out of here!" But, just before he could grip Grapple from the shoulders, another transmission rang through the secret frequency, sending a chill down every Autobot's spinal axis.
-This is Ultra Magnus. Optimus Prime is down. Repeat, Optimus Prime is down.-
TBC...