It isn't usual that almost the whole of the Autobots are working on the same project, least of all a scientific one, but…

Well, all Autobots know how to weld, and weld is what is needed.

No matter that some only agreed to it because of Prime's 'turbo-hound puppy optics'.

Yes, yes, everyone will say Prime doesn't make 'turbo-hound puppy optics' or any other kind of puppy eyes… But that would be like saying Megatron came to Earth to pick flowers.

… Well, now that's an idea… What if the Decepticons tried to make their own bio-fuel? Megatron would be picking flowers then.

Jazz snickers at the thought and gets a suspicious look from Cliffjumper, who is kneeling close to the path the saboteur is taking to pick up and deliver the planks they're working on, piled high in his arms.

"Do we need to know what you're thinking?" the Minibot asks, sitting on his heels, and Jazz whirls mid-step with a wide grin.

"Just realized the Decepticons came to Earth to pick flowers and care for kittens," he answers cheerfully, finishing his spin without a hitch to continue on his way.

Even without looking back, he knows Cliffjumper is staring at him as if he's blown quite some chips.

But, hey, aren't fossil fuels made of organics, both plants and animals, which were buried and have undergone a series of conditions of heat and pressure for millennia?

Alright, so it was saber-toothed kittens instead of the tiny fluff balls humans call pets, but kittens nevertheless.

Alarms go off and, if he had been any other mech, Jazz would have thrown his cargo to the air.

Since he's not 'any other mech', though, the saboteur whirls around, ready to use the planks he's carrying as weapons if need be.

But the siren is almost immediately shut off, to the Head of Spec Ops' confusion.

"The Decepticons won't find it easy to slip past that," Prime tells Wheeljack, kneeling next to an active panel, and Jazz almost smacks himself.

Detection panels. To install in the Ark's entrances. To avoid infiltration by those pesky Cassettes.

And, since they are Wheeljack's invention, of course they have to be tested.

And he, the Jazzmeister, saboteur extraordinaire and Autobot Third in Command and part of the mechs roped to help assemble the slagging things, jumped like a newbie.

"Losing your touch?"

"Of course you had to see that," he mutters barely audibly, turning to face a kneeling Prowl, who has an offline welder in a servo and a perfectly assembled panel in the other, which he offers as soon as he has Jazz's attention. "Another done? Jeez, Prowler, you were told to come here to keep you from overworking. And you've finished most of these yourself!" he exclaims, taking the new sensor plank and using it to gesture to those he's already carrying. "Can't you take a break?"

"Believe it or not, this is me taking a break. And you tried to evade the question."

"And obviously failed," he returns with a lopsided grin, turning around to go deliver his cargo—

"Jazz."

No such luck.

"Are you really expecting an answer?"

"Obviously."

With a grimace, the saboteur turns around and plops down in an undignified yet graceful cross-legged sitting pose.

Despite having all he needs to get to work on the next panel, Prowl puts the welder aside and turns his whole attention to the Third in Command.

"Maybe," Jazz mumbles after a bit, scowling without humor. "I mean, I guess I'm not, but… I don't know. It's like… we're stuck. The Cons try to get a new weapon or more energy, we go stop them, kick their skid plates, and they fly away to leave us to deal with the damage and come back here to wait until they try something else again. When did the war turn into this… this cops and robbers game?"

"When we onlined after the crash," the Praxian answers easily, though more serious than before.

"Exactly! We've been doing nothing since then! Yeah, sure, we're stopping the Cons, protecting the humans, and all that, but… we're still losing. Every victory on Earth is meaningless as Shockwave reactivates soldiers in stasis and starts mass production of drones and—they're kicking us off our own planet while we're stranded here doing what?"

"You know that if we—"

"Went back to Cybertron, Megatron would just drain Earth and they would have a real big advantage over us, yes, I know," he cuts with disdain, glaring at the ground, before his plating presses closer to the struts in worry. "Doesn't mean we're not losing. We were resisting, we had a plan to avoid this very situation… It was supposed to be the other way around, with us sending fuel back to Cybertron and the Cons being forced back, but it's not!"

And Second and Third can only exchange looks of almost despair at that.

Because they know it's the truth.

If only they could locate another planet to get resources from, or focus on getting rid of the Decepticon High Command here on Earth instead of playing hero…

But Prime would never allow that.

He's attached to the humans, almost as tightly as to their own race. And while Prowl and Jazz really don't want anything happening to certain individuals…

This is war. Sacrifices must be made.

But no, an all-out attack would be too risky. Being underwater gives the Decepticons the advantage of close quarters combat. And, while the Autobots are good at that and have numbers on their favor, there's only so many of them that can fit in the Victory's corridors.

Plus, at an order from Megatron, a new super-weapon, or strike force, could threaten a populated area. And Prime…

Optimus would call the attack off the very instant a single human life was at risk.

"I know what the situation is like, and maybe we could pull it off. But if we stay reactive instead of proactive… I feel like I'm stagnating here. This… unchanging pattern is… I have no challenges, no changes. I feel like I'm going—"

"Prowl, Jazz."

At their leader's voice, all conversation is over and, putting their tasks aside, both officers get to their pedes and to Prime's side to hear about their new mission.

I feel like I'm going back.

That's what Jazz was going to say.

By the way Prowl's doorwings are held half a micron higher than usual, the saboteur knows the other is aware of the unvoiced words too.

UPDATED 24/06/2019: Corrected grammar.

AN: The title of this chapter is Kainara Sa: 'Tamed' in Japanese.

It all began with one of the characters in the original Enter the Nightbird episode and a really good question: "Why build a robot ninja, Doctor? Isn't that rather dangerous?"

And, thus, we get another rewrite/adaptation of a classic chapter.

Of course, there are more reasons. Like, I have this headcanon that Jazz is really bad news, as in a really really dangerous fella, and seeing how a human-made robot (Decepticon modified or not) kicked the Autobots' afts so easily was... well, it was plain embarrassing. Yes, capturing unharmed is harder than killing, but come on.

And then, there was Optimus. Good, heroic, noble, and plain stupid Optimus. I swear, I don't know how many times I wanted to slap him up the head during the episode and shout at him to see what the Pit was happening in front of his very optics. Seriously, that was... I like Optimus, respect him, he's an awesome character, but please... No, just... No.

So, there. Have Enter the Nightbird in a new light. And feel free to give me an earful about mauling the series, 'cause it doesn't look like I'll be stopping anythime soon (I'm looking at you next, Kremzeek).