A/N: This is a co-written work. I have been given permission by TheAzureDolphin to upload this onto my account. This is Part One of a multi-part epic. More information will be uploaded soon. For now, enjoy the show, and tell us what you think!

Warning: Will make you laugh, cry, wet yourself, whatever. Depends on (edited) you.

Disclaimer: Transformers is all to Hasbro. You lucky schumcks, why didn't we think of this!

Chapter 1

The last thing Jazz remembered doing was fighting Starscream's very-annoying femme clone known as Slipstream. Then a flash of blinding light and now he was in a desert. He got up and noticed he was alone; that was never a good sign. At first, he thought he was teleported by a random transwarp frequency wave, and then quickly discarded that thought, because he knew he didn't have anything pertaining to a space bridge on him. He checked his scanners for any sign of another Cybertronian.

He found one; it was about four kliks away. He transformed into his sleek Corvette-like alt. mode and made for it, hoping it was a fellow Autobot.

Arcee was on patrol; she had been in the rec room when Hound asked her to take his shift. She had nothing better to do so she had accepted it. Now she regretted it as she picked up a signal on her sensors. She would have called for backup, but what stopped her was the strange anomaly that had suddenly come from the Key. She wasn't sure what to do at that point, because Optimus, Prowl, and Jazz had mysteriously disappeared without further instructions. They also weren't there to consult, and she couldn't abandon her patrol to find Bumblebee either.

She noticed that the signal was getting closer. She stopped and transformed into her robot mode as she waited for whoever it may be.

She didn't have to wait long.

It seemed like Jazz, but… the signal was a bit strange. Not like the one she usually picked up when she was on a mission with him. She waited as the bot stopped in front of her and initiated the transformation sequence back to robot mode.

As he pulled to a stop, what struck him first was confusion and then recognition as he transformed. The femme looked like Arcee, but he wasn't too sure. "Arcee?" he asked carefully.

As soon as he said her name, she knew it must've been Jazz, but he looked different. Especially his face. For one, his chin was enormous; but what caught her attention more was the arrow pointing to his lower… erm, region. She tried to ignore that, failed, then moved on. "Jazz?" she asked experimentally. "But you're not Jazz… are you?"

Jazz looked at her as if she had just asked what shape Cybertron was. "What're ya talkin' 'bout?" he asked, mildly confused. "I am Jazz, th' One an' only!"

Arcee regarded the white mech in front of her quietly. "You talk like him. You kinda look like him. But… there's something a little off with you." She narrowed her optics before carefully stroking her chin in thought. She paused, looked at her hand, and elongated her stroking. Yep, that was it.

"I can see that."

"Oh! Uhm, well, ah…. This just got kinda awkward."

"Yep, yep it did," Jazz whistled softly, before casting a look about the desert. Sand… sand… and more sand~! Yep, definitely a desert. A sandy one to be precise, complete with cacti, a scenic mountain, a crashed ship in said mountain…

Waitjustaminutehere.

"Well, nice real estate ya got 'ere," Jazz commented carelessly, waving his hand in the air before finally pointing to the distant ship.

"Yeah," Arcee replied, not sure what else to say to that. She glanced at the Ark out of the corner of her peripheral vision briefly, before returning her full attention back to this lanky and big-chinned Jazz.

And then she wondered what was tall and white in the middle of the desert, a sea of millions of shades of the same brown.

Well, that could present a problem.

"Hey, du-u-udes!"

Arcee jumped several feet in the air before landing neatly in Jazz's arms. Jazz eyed (opticed?) the femme oddly before asking in a joking manner, "Ya come 'ere of'en?"

"Naturally," Arcee countered, before stepping out of the mech's arms carefully. She saw Jazz go rigid before she turned to the voice that had so rudely interrupted the already awkward situation. She let loose a cry before drawing her weapon and aiming it at the white Transformer that looked strangely like none-other than the Decepticon Communications Officer.

"You're white," Arcee said carefully, now repositioning her weapon so that if it went off it would hit him, not her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, dudette. Racism is wrong," the Soundwave said, holding his hands in the air defensively. "If I'm something I'm… I'm, well, I guess I am white, now that I look at me." He glanced down, lifting up his left leg as if to look at it better. "Aw, man, dude, poor lizard. My 'pologies, lizard-dude."

Arcee looked at Jazz as if for an answer. The chilin' mech looked about as confused as she did. "On the count of three?" he suddenly asked.

"Hunh?"

"Ya know. On the count of three."

"Oh, sure. Oooone…"

"Twooooo…"

"Three, dudes!"

"Ahh! He's gonna attack!" Arcee cried, running behind the nearest boulder for the appropriate cover to fire from. She aimed her rifle at the white Soundwave, but he just stood there, looking as confused as someone with a hidden face could look.

"What's up with her, dude?" the strange Soundwave asked Jazz.

"I dunno, dude," Jazz replied with a shrug.

There was a pause… and then….

"Dude!"

"Du-u-ude."

"Duuude!"

"Duuu-uuuu-uuuude."

"Well, that was…fun…" Jazz finally commented, stopping the dude-fest. "But we should probably figure out… Well, first, what-slash-who are you?"

"Awww, du-ude, I'm Soundwave, the heroic Decepticon Communications Officer! … Dude!"

"H-heroic…? Welllll, rightie-o."

"I claim Tom-foolery!" Arcee cried from behind her boulder. "Decepticons? Heroic! Everyone knows that's an oxymoron!"

"Arcee," Jazz began carefully, "A villain is never a villain in his own optics. The Decepticons wouldn't know that because they think they're doing right. Erm, sorta."

The only response was a loud hurrumpf.

Jazz sighed before turning back to the most-definitely-by-now-odd Soundwave, who was picking up something from the desert floor.

"Whatcha got?" Jazz asked, walking slightly closer to get a better look.

"Aw, dude, sorry, can't tell ya. Top secret, hushie-hushie," came the oddly pleasant sounding response. "I first picked up its signal offa the dudette, so ask her what she dropped."

Arcee was not happy.

Was. Not. Happy.

First, that weird, big-chinned Jazz showed up. Then the Soundwave that looked-like-Soundwave-sorta but most-definitely-did-not-act-like-Soundwave showed up, too.

And now she felt like something was missing.

But she couldn't figure out what.

She felt around in subspace, which got awkward when she accidentally brushed against someone else's hand, but she still couldn't figure it out. Nope, all she learned from that was that there was a hole in her personal subspace.

That couldn't be good at all.

She put her fingers to her lips, carefully thinking of anything, anything that she might've possibly lost track of….

The Key!

"Oh, no…."she groaned, holding her head.

She pulled out her rifle, made sure the cell was charged, made sure the safety was off… made sure she wasn't dreaming by pinching herself… then realized that didn't work for her kind.

Bashing her head against the rock and starting this scenario over sounded pretty nice right now.

She took a deep intake to cool her systems before hurling herself over the boulder, a savage war cry escaping her vocal processor.

"Ar-Arcee!"

"Aw-aw, duuude!"

The two white mechs jumped back from the pink blur as she came hurtling over the boulder.

"Give me back the Key before I do something I really do not want to do!" she yelled. She really wished Bumblebee were here right now.

"Dudette, don't do anything rash," Soundwave cautioned.

"Yeah… what Mister Opposite over 'ere said," Jazz carefully agreed. "Don't do anythin' 'orrible an' irrevocable."

"Dude, irrevocable would be bad."

"Exactly."