I've always thought of myself as a practical mech. I don't grab more than I can carry and if I find myself in a sitch too big for me to process, I know when it's the smart thing to bail. But once in a blue moon, an opportunity springs up that you just can't pass up. A perfect hit. That unsurpassed score.

No bounty hunter can pass that up. Not even me...

Last Rites

Part One: Gears and Glory

It did not take long for word to pass... at least not around Cybertron. According to what was said, the funeral had been stunning. There were precious few faces that were not in attendance at the gathering dedicated to the life and sacrifice of the cyberninja Prowl, whose actions had saved not just one small organic world, but also Cybertron itself. Those in attendance had spoken of the shining words of praise spoken of him by his teammates and closest companions, and the post-humous honor of being one of the few non-military personnel to receive the Elite Guard's prestigious Sun of Valor... normally awarded to those members of the guard who have shown courage and loyalty above and beyond the call of duty.

The surprise was the fact that the brave young mech's commander and team had declined having him interred among Cybertron's greatest heroes. Instead, they chose a foreign land... the beautiful organic planet he had so admired. Through talks with the mayor of the city of Detroit, Michigan, it had been decided that Prowl's body would be laid to rest in a mausoleum just big enough to house his frame, at the very edge of a military cemetery near the outskirts of the city. It was the least they could do, the Autobots had been told, for the sacrifice Prowl had made to save thousands of lives.

It was this particular piece of information that eventually reached the bounty hunter Lockdown. He leaned back in his seat, gazing with a great deal of contemplation at the endless field of stars before him. It was a painful thought, but at the same time, as details of the ninja's unfortunate passing and the honors given to him in the wake of his death filtered through, he began to think. He didn't have to be a medic or a scientist to realize that kind of death wasn't really a true death. Oh no. There were ways... mechs... prices that could be paid to do dark things that could give life where it had been lost.

He leaned forward, red optics gleaming. Maybe it was a long-shot, but wasn't it worth it? He'd wanted that mech's body. But the opportunity to have his spark, too?

It was too beautiful.

Grinning at his own thoughts, the merc gunned his ship. He had someone to find...

*****

Earth clean-up was depressing. None of the Autobots really wanted to discuss what had happened. Sari had spent most of the time after the others had returned curled quietly at home, or with Bumblebee, not wanting to let anyone in her small family out of her sight for too long. Her fears weren't entirely unfounded, after all. There were concerns now... rogue Decepticons still roaming the galaxy, now seeking vengeance for the downfall of their leader. There were reports of uprisings and murders and deaths, but these were all things no one wanted to think about. Least of all the Autobots on Earth. They were still focused on the all-too-real loss of a teammate. A dear friend. A member of their family.

And, for one lonely mech, his spark's other half.

For Jazz, nothing cut deeper than the hollow residing in his spark. He had only spoken to Ratchet about it, and that had only been when the medic had insisted. He had not told Ratchet why, though he was certain the mech had guessed, and he had made certain to ghost over the fact that he and Prowl had spark bonded not long after getting to know one another. He had followed decorum and shown only what grief was appropriate at Prowl's funeral. He'd wanted to break down, but he'd maintained composure.

But he felt like he was breaking from the inside out.

He wouldn't tell anyone this, of course. He simply buried himself in his work, accepting energon when it was offered to him, resting only when he needed to. As far as he could figure, if he focused as much as he could on his work, he wouldn't be focusing on that awful sense of loss that tore at his spark with every passing moment.

Now he remembered what the mechs who raised him had told him to be true. To lose one's mate was to lose a piece of one's self, and it was the very same reason that led so many who suffered through that trauma to suicide.

Jazz knew, though, that he couldn't allow himself to give in like that. He was a cyberninja... among the very last practiced in the ancient arts. It was something he couldn't allow to die. To do so would be an insult to all of those who had died for it before him.

Sitting there on the skeleton of a building in the process of being rebuilt, he let these thoughts just pass through his processor, trying not to linger on any one for too long. Unfortunately, that was when he noticed a figure a few buildings away, standing and watching the setting sun, an axe gripped firmly in his right hand. He recognized the frame, and sighed. That was another reminder... he was not the only one whose spark was aching from all this mindless death.

Expression unchanging, he stood, vaulting gracefully from rooftop to rooftop until he landed in a silent crouch behind the young Prime. "Yer lookin' a bit lonely up here, OP. Mind some company?"

Optimus Prime just gave a quiet sigh, his hand relaxing as he placed his axe into its normal place at his back. "Fine by me."

For a while, the two sat in silence, with Optimus standing and Jazz moving to sit on the ledge next to him, one knee drawn up as the other leg dangled. Finally, the cyberninja elite gave a soft sigh, glancing up. "This wasn't your fault, y'know. No one coulda stopped Prowl. He did what he wanted to do. He saved a whole lotta lives doin' it."

"We could've found another way," Optimus responded, tone firm, and yet somehow unsure. "He didn't have to... to die for this."

His words struck the same tune that Jazz had been replaying in his head since the moment Prowl's decision became clear to him. His own words, crying out to the other cyberninja, trying to convince him to back away from that brink... to listen to reason.

But Prowl was having none of it, and in that sad, loving smile, had said his goodbyes and made it clear that this was what he wanted to do... and the only thing they could've done in the small fragment of time they had left before the bombs inside the Omega Supreme clones leveled Detroit and killed everyone.

Jazz finally sighed, shaking his head. "He wouldn't have had it, Optimus. You know how he could be. Stubborn as the Pit and..." He trailed off. "He was resolute. Trust me. I couldn't stop him when he did it." Guilt tinged his words, now, and he lowered his head, avoiding allowing the young commander's optics to find his behind the visor. "All I could do was stand there and watch."

He watched Optimus's fists clench, but he knew the reaction wasn't at him. It was stupid to think that it might be. Optimus obviously cared deeply for his crew, and to lose one of them like this... it must have struck him hard. "It's not your fault, Jazz," he finally murmured. "None of us could've stopped Prowl... not once his mind was made up." His fists clenched. "All we can do now is respect Prowl's memory... move on. Detroit needs us, and so does Cybertron."

"So if Cybertron needs us, why don't you take the truth about what happened between you an' Sentinel to the top?" Jazz's expression was unreadable, even when Optimus spun to face him. "Don't look at me like that. Prowl had a feeling something wasn't right... told me so himself. Seeing you an' Sentinel, and hearin' what he said? Watching how he worked? I think somewhere, the truth got twisted and you wound up in the middle'a nowhere. Ain't sayin' it didn't work out for your benefit in the end." He stood. "Otherwise, you never woulda met your team... or Prowl. I trust his judgement, if no one else's. Ain't gonna push if you don't wanna tell. But I'm here if y'wanna let loose."

Optimus frowned, watching as Jazz stood and turned to walk over to the ledge. "Jazz." When the cyberninja turned, he opened his mouth... but his vocalizer froze. The words he wanted to say just wouldn't come. "Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."

He watched as Jazz nodded, then vaulted, dropping gracefully to the street below. As soon as he was out of optic and audioshot, he sighed and sunk down to sit, knees drawn up, head in one hand. How was he supposed to keep going, when everything seemed so wrong...?

*****

It was an annoying sensation. He was well aware his small craft should not have stopped moving, and yet, here he was. Stuck in an area of uncharted space with no way to hail for help. And worse, even if he could pick up a comm, he knew there were precious few frequencies he could try without ending up on an unfriendly one. He dared not ask what else could go wrong. That never ended well.

As it stood, Swindle's fears were well founded. Not long after he had come to a screeching halt in some Allspark-forsaken dead sector of space, the power on his ship gave out, throwing him into a thick, jarring dark even the stars outside weren't piercing. This was no ordinary dark... not by a long shot.

Someone was on his ship.

Before he could even put a hand on his firearm, he felt the sudden prick of some sort of bladed weapon against the softer, much more vulnerable metal of his throat. "Now, now, Swindle," purred the thick, heavy voice of his unexpected guest. "Is that any way to treat an old friend? I haven't seen or heard from you in vorn. I think we need to catch up."

"Lockdown?" Swindle was careful to let no fear register in his tone. The bounty hunter was up in vorn, but he was by no means any less sharp... physically or mentally. "Well I'll be. What brings you to this remote little star system?"

Lockdown gave a low, throaty chuckle. "Isn't it obvious? I need info, and you owe me a favor for saving your skid on that Solerian space port all those stellar cycles ago."

Without missing a beat, Swindle flashed a winning grin, his optics finally making the slow switch over to night vision. "Mm. That I do, don't I? I'll certainly see what I can get for you. What did you have in mind?"

Ruby optics glowed into stark violet as Lockdown allowed himself a casual smirk. "Smart mech." As he stepped around, one foot drew up the copilot seat, his hook trailing along Swindle's throat. "I need the coordinates for the spiral planet... Quintessa. Got a dirty job to do, and the Quintessons are the only race other'n us with intimate knowledge of how the Allspark works... and how to manipulate it."

If nothing else caught Swindle's attention, that did. As Lockdown sat back, he leaned forward. "Whoa there, Lockdown. If you're looking for the Quints... because they can manipulate the Allspark..." He arched a brow ridge. "You wouldn't happen to be trying to resurrect the offlined, now, would you...?"

"And if I was?" Lockdown casually fired back.

Swindle gave a faint chuckle. "Well, if you were, that'd cost you. Information like that doesn't come cheap, even when you call in a favor."

It was unnerving, the way Lockdown suddenly began to chuckle. He slapped his knee as the spontaneous gaity increased in volume, head thrown back as he howled with laughter. For a moment, Swindle didn't react, both baffled and a bit frightened. It was when he finally began to nervously chuckle himself that Lockdown moved.

In an instant, the bounty hunter was on top of him, knee shoved against the con artist's chestplate as his hook came to rest with the tip against his neck... right at the back, above the spinal relay connection. Their faces were dangerously close, and Lockdown was no longer smiling. "Wrong answer." He lifted Swindle's chin with a fingertip. "I'm gonna give you a pass this time. Just this once. You've got a sweet bounty on your head... enough energon to retire on and upgrades that'd make Omega Supreme writhe. Somethin' about some big-wig Decepticon supporter you double-crossed. I'm giving you a favor. I'll let you go. But that means you'll owe me... and how 'bout we make that info I'm looking for the payment?"

Swindle immediately froze. "Sure! Sure, whatever you say, old pal!" He swallowed. "But I can't give you the coordinates all casual-like. You get what we need for this... ah... delicate mission. Okay? You bring it back to me and I'll take you there personally. Deal?"

"Deal," Lockdown replied, not moving from where he was perched. "Just remember, mech. If you try to pull a fast one on me, I will hunt you down." His hook tapped lightly against the back of Swindle's neck. "You know I will. You know I can. You've got the choice, old pal, so just keep in mind... the bounty on your head even applies if your spark ain't functioning."

It took only the span of time within which Swindle's optics flickered for Lockdown to vanish. The lights came up and the ship rumbled to life, leaving Swindle to sit there bewildered in the all too suddenly empty ship.

Sighing, he pressed a hand to his forehead. Great.

He knew he had no choice but to do exactly as he was told.

*****

On Earth, the days continued to drag on, and for a girl who had seen the Autobots as the only family she had outside of an eccentric, absent-minded father, the loss of one of their own had been particularly striking. Sari was relatively quiet, sitting in the main rec room of the plant with her knees drawn up to her chest, red hair twisted into two braids that hung to her shoulders, pale blue eyes half-closed. Bumblebee sat near her, occasionally shifting uncomfortably, glancing over to the girl. "...you okay, Sari?"

"Oh, sure," Sari responded, tone unapologetically biting. "I'm just fine, Bumblebee. One of our best friends just died and he's never coming back. Half the city is destroyed, and while everyone may be thankful to the Autobots, it's obvious folks are scared. Even of me." She wiped her eyes, shoulders trembling. "So sure, Bumblebee! I'm just fine!"

Wincing, the yellow mech reached down, scooping the girl into his hand, where she simply sat glowering at him, tears glittering at the corners of her eyes. "Look, I didn't mean it that way. I'm just worried... about you and everyone else." Giving a weak smile, he leaned his head down until her forehead could touch his. "We'll get through this. You'll see."

Sari sighed, reaching up to press a hand against a spot next to where her forehead was resting. "Says you. I can feel that you're hurting. But then... I guess we all are, huh?" She didn't move more than that, curling her knees in tightly. "It just feels like the world is falling apart. Aside from Dad, you guys are the only family I've ever known. And now Prowl's--..."

The girl's voice broke as she spoke the cyberninja's name, her free hand lifting to scrub tears from her cheeks even as it trembled. Bumblebee, at a loss for anything else to do, lifted his free hand to catch a stray tear with the very tip of one finger. "Leaking's not gonna bring him back, Sari, but I know how you feel. We'll get through it together, okay? You and me." A pause. "...uh... and Bulkhead and the others too."

Both of them fell silent for a while until finally, Sari sighed, sitting back to smile up at her friend. "I want to go out to the cemetery." When Bumblebee gave her a startled look, she reached up to poke his forehead lightly. "Last time we were there, there were hundreds of people. I just want to go up and say goodbye. Just the two of us. We might even run into Jazz up there."

"Jazz?" Bumblebee sounded puzzled. "Why would Jazz be up there?"

That finally brought a smile to Sari's face and she rubbed his forehead where she had poked before carefully climbing down. "I'll explain later. C'mon."

*****

The mausoleum at the top of the hill was very plain. A simple building at the edge of a military graveyard where human heroes from Detroit were honored for their service abroad and at home. That the humans saw fit to honor a fallen Autobot here was a true testament to how they felt for the lives saved at the loss of one. Jazz was settled quietly nearby, his fingertips tracing the words carved into the side nearest to where he was sitting. Here, a bizarre assortment of symbols and markings indicated Cybertronian, where it had been carved by some friends of his that had offered their assistance.

-He lived a warrior, and died a hero. Let his spark join the Well of All Sparks... the greatest of Cybertron.-

The words echoed in human English on the other side, but this side... this side spoke to Jazz. A language he knew in unfamiliar setting, words that stung him to his core. He could hear murmuring nearby. Humans that wanted to pay their respects. Many of them had been among those unable to escape the buildings saved during Prowl's final sacrifice.

No one bothered the lithe cyberninja. They steered clear of him, occasionally glancing up at him as they passed, but none stopped to speak to him. Jazz preferred it that way. He could bask for a while in the peace, grieving for his lost mate without anyone to interrupt his reverie.

And it was this very distraction that prevented him from realizing the danger approaching.

It wasn't until he heard a few humans screaming, and saw them scattering from the mausoleum, that he turned, only to be greeted by a tired heel cracking across his jaw. When he landed, sprawled mere feet from the stone wall of the building, he immediately drew into a defensive crouch, turning to face whoever it was that had assaulted him on this hallowed ground. "Lockdown!"

"Hello, Jazz," the bounty hunter crooned in reply. "Long time no see. Miss me?"

Jazz's optics narrowed behind his visor as he shifted his posture. "Hardly. What the slag do you want?"

Chuckling faintly, Lockdown only shrugged, rolling his shoulders dismissively. "That hurts, mech. I'm here and I get to see you outside a fight for the first time since I ditched Yoketron's stuffy control, and all you do is ask what I want? You cut me clean to the core, Jazz."

"You heard me." Jazz's tone lacked any joviality or mirth. "What. do. you. want."

Slowly, Lockdown moved forward, his optics skimming the words in Cybertronian etched into the side of the mausoleum. "Same thing you want, mech. Closure. Answers, for why such a promising life got snuffed out so quickly. And a way to make all that seem like so much bad code."

Jazz froze, following Lockdown's movements with a stern gaze. "What are you talking about?"

Lockdown just grinned. "What else? Thing is, Jazz... I need the body inside this hunk of rock in order to make it a reality. And you're either gonna give it to me... or I'll kill you and take it anyway. Your choice."

"You're out of your mind!" Jazz snapped, immediately coming up into a combat-ready pose. "No way in the Pit am I letting you take Prowl's body! He earned his rest! And whatever you plan on doing to mess with his remains, you'll have to do it over my cold, sparkless frame!"

The response from Lockdown was a long, low chuckle. "If that's what you want, mech... fine by me!"

He wasted no time in lunging, and the hook on his right arm caught Jazz off-guard, snagging his shoulder joint and tearing away some wires before the cyberninja tore free, instinctively blocking away the pain and leaking fluids as he swept his left leg out, intending to knock the bounty hunter's legs out from under him. The tactic worked only briefly, as Lockdown braced gracefully on the fall, managing to torque Jazz's knee with a swift back-kick in the process.

Jazz knew what he had to do. He had to get Lockdown away from the mausoleum... away from Prowl. He had no idea how he was going to manage... if he was even going to be able to succeed. He was exhausted, and his reaction time was painfully slowed by the lack of recharge he'd gotten in the past several weeks since that final fateful battle. But for the time being, he was managing to match Lockdown blow-for-blow, even if he was taking more damage than he was giving. He would win this, even if he had to die trying.

In the back of his mind, he did his best to ignore how likely that outcome could be. Lockdown's hook scraped his helm, and dug a deep trench in his chestplate, but so far, he was at least holding his own. His misstep came when he went for a tackle, moving in too early. The bounty hunter grabbed his arm, shoving him hard against the marble wall of the mausoleum, pinning him down as he flipped his hook over to the chainsaw attachment.

The pain was almost as tangible audibly to Jazz as it was physically, crying out as the weapon cut deeply into his side and then into his right leg, rendering him unable to rise up to strike at the dark mech who was now striding closer to the goal he'd fought so hard to prevent.

He knew it was futile, but he pushed himself up when Lockdown tossed him casually aside, crushing a few nearby headstones in the tumble. "Don't you dare, Lockdown!"

But the merc did not listen. He simply revved the chainsaw again, and with one smooth swipe, he completely tore the roof off the monument to an Autobot whose life had ended all too suddenly. He didn't even regard Jazz when he reached inside, lifting the body with one hand, looking somewhat amused at how it went limp in his grasp. "Gray," he commented absently. "Always hated that color. Even when turning in a bounty. Never liked looking at the dead ones. Don't you agree, Jazz?"

Jazz was too furious to answer, trying to drag himself closer, jaw clenched. "Put him down!"

By this point, he could hear shouting in the distance. The voices belonged to Sari and Bumblebee, who – on their approach – had likely heard the commotion. As other humans would've likely confirmed their worst fears, they would be rushing up the path right now to Jazz's aid. Sirens were sounding in the background as well; that was a sure sign that the Detroit Police Department was on the case as well.

The cyberninja was well aware, however, that by the time they arrived, it would be too late. He reached out, trying desperately to get a grip on Lockdown's leg, but he missed as the disgraced ninja took a step back. "Sorry, Jazz. You'll thank me later."

He turned, then, making a graceful leap as he sped out of view to wherever he'd stashed his ship. Jazz barely noticed Bumblebee shooting past him, or Sari stopping near his side to insist Ratchet was on his way. He was too focused on screaming obscenities after Lockdown, trying to drag himself forward, helpless to do anything but watch as Prowl's body was carried to Allspark-knew-where...

...and all he could do was hope they could track them down before whatever the bounty hunter was planning came to fruition.

To Be Continued...