Title: A Meeting of Like Minds
By: mmouse15
Rating: K+
Pairing/Characters: Jazz, Mirage, mentions of Ironhide, Prowl, Optimus Prime, Sentinel Prime
Warnings: none.
Summary: How did Mirage meet Jazz and become part of the Special Operations group?
Author's Notes: There is an OC at the beginning, but I needed someone to take the attention away from Jazz. The OC quickly fades away and is not central to the story for those of you allergic to OCs.
This is a gift for rusty-chevy - I hope you like it!
This was written April 2009.
Jazz walked with his second, Gliss, down the grungy corridor.
"Ya sure, Gliss?" he questioned.
"Promise, boss, there's a couple of 'bots that are worth a serious look for our corps. I really like this new way of doing things – y'know, wait until we've got at least ten and they've been in the base for an orn before figuring out where they should go for further training."
"Yeah, it is working better, but we're getting the short end of the deal; we haven't had a new 'bot in Special Ops for a quarter of a vorn, Gliss."
"Well, yeah, but part of that was the complete and total waste of time that was our last pick. We're only now recovered from his fragged up handling of missions. Idiot." Gliss snarled, still unhappy about the mess Special Ops was in. Gliss was unusual for Jazz's group in that his specialty was supplies. The biggest difference between Gliss and a regular supply mech was that Gliss didn't work through normal channels and Jazz had been quick to snag the mech when he could, bringing the supply expert into his tightly knit group and thus finally getting the materials and supplies they needed to do the missions that were impossible for anyone else.
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Optimus Prime was new to his job, and one of the changes he'd implemented after taking over for Sentinel Prime was how new recruits to the Autobots were sorted out. Sentinel had been very much a mech of protocol, and his command structure had been based on quick decision and intensive training. Optimus ran a looser organization and there had been many changes in positions. Hound, for example, had been moved out from a desk job to a scout position and had proven himself an able and worthy addition to the information gathering arm of their rag-tag army. Various other bots had found themselves in new roles better suited to their talents. The result was a deep thread of optimism thrumming through the entire army.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0oo
They arrived at the largest room in their base where the newest batch of recruits was gathered together for their initiation into the Autobot forces. Gliss moved into position by Ironhide and Prowl, up on the slightly raised platform at one end of the room. Ironhide was in charge of the weapons training but was always looking for mechs to train in special security units that were hard-hitting, fast, and deadly. His latest addition was a pair of mechs that were strong, fearless, and worked together seamlessly. Prowl had been Sentinel's second-in-command and had remained in that position for Optimus. He had the joyless job of placing mechs not claimed by the other commanders. Gliss was there to provide a distraction, a focal point for the recruits to look at as Jazz evaluated them from the floor. The deception was an old one, with Gliss standing in as a placeholder for Special Ops while the real evaluation took place without many of the bots ever knowing they'd been evaluated. Ratchet, Optimus Prime's new MO, was looking for recruits to train in the medical field, while Ultra Magnus was there to recruit for the information gathering portion of the army. Right now, Jazz was in charge of a subgroup under Magnus but he was hoping that he could move his group out on their own.
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Jazz slid into position, weaving through the mechs clustered about the floor of the room. He sized up a large black mech, passing over him to a small white mech that looked too young to be even thinking of being a soldier. He then moved to a slender mech with small doorwings and another slender mech in a rich shade of blue not seen outside the environs of the Towers. His gaze snapped back to the blue mech. Yup, a Towers brat, he'd bet his daily rations on it. The helm was different than anything he'd ever seen before, the vents that framed his face flowing down and spreading out over his shoulders. The entire deco of the helm looked liked an ancient Cybertronian headdress worn by a high priest or mystic back in the golden age of their planet. The construction of the mech's frame was of the highest quality and Jazz would have bet another day's rations that this mech's creators had spent more money on the materials for his frame than the entire Autobot army could scrape together now. His chest appeared delicate, his fingers were long and elegant, his proportions perfect. He had room around him as if everyone was afraid to intrude on his personal space.
::Gliss. Tell me it isn't the Towers brat.::
::Talk to him.::
Trusting his second's judgment, Jazz moved closer and stuck out his hand.
"Hi! I'm Jazz. What's your name?"
The blue mech looked appalled, and Jazz could help but grin as good manners triumphed over the revulsion the mech had over touching a commoner.
"How do you do? My designation is Mirage."
"Glad ta meechya, 'Raj! What brings a 'bot like you to our neck of the woods?" Jazz was grinning like the fool he was playing.
Mirage looked sad but quickly wiped the expression away and assumed a neutral look. "I am here because I refuse to the join the Decepticons that are destroying our planet with their insane war and Neutrals are being slaughtered like penned sheepacrons. The Towers…" here the mech choked, then cleared his intakes and resumed, "…with the fall of the Towers, I no longer have a home. I want the Decepticons to be wiped off this planet."
"Vengence don't last long. Ya gotta have a better reason than that for fightin' a war."
Mirage looked at him for a long moment, then answered, "Because they are dragging us back to the dark ages of our planet and I can not abide the loss of everything that is good and right about our planet, our people, and our lives."
"Sure, that sounds good, but what can you do?" Jazz shrugged and turned his body slightly toward the front of the room where he could see Optimus making his way to the platform. A hand on his arm stopped his movement.
"Perhaps nothing, but I have had the best of upbringings, and no expense was spared by my creators. I can shoot, track, hunt, and do not underestimate the pettiness of the rich and entitled. The furnishings may be nicer, but every event in the Towers is just a brutal as the Kaon pitfights and with more credits riding on the outcome." With that parting shot, Mirage turned his attention to the Prime. Jazz looked up and made optic contact with Gliss, who nodded his head toward the Towers mech. Jazz turned back to find that Mirage was no longer next to him. He looked around wildly, only coming to himself when his comm pinged.
::Now do you believe me?::
::Where in th' Pit did he go?::
::He's over by Prowl.::
Jazz looked and got a location on the Towers mech. He continued to move through the recruits but kept one optic on the blue mech that had so startled him. How had the mech done that? He had the keenest audio sensors of anyone he knew, he was experienced in using air waves and subtle sounds to locate objects, and this upstart formerly rich brat had essentially vanished right from right beside him and Jazz hadn't even noticed!
He finished moving through the mechs just as Optimus Prime stepped to the front of the platform after consulting with his SIC. His other target turned out to be the small white mech, who had used his size to his advantage and snagged a great location right at the front of the dais.
"Welcome. We are very glad to have you here, and I hope you've been made comfortable. My officers and I have taken the interviews you granted us, plus some observations and have decided upon tentative postings. Please, do keep in mind these are tentative. If you find that you have a poor fit, please let us know and we will work with you to get you into a position that will optimize your contribution to the Autobot cause."
Prowl stepped forward and began calling out names. As the mechs stepped forward, the officer in charge of the division introduced himself, even if they'd been introduced during the interviews, and welcomed the new recruit to their group. As each commander collected their newest recruits, they left the room. Finally, the group was winnowed down to two mechs, the small white one and Mirage. Prowl stepped forward and introduced himself, intending to take the two for further interviews.
"We'd like them, Prowl." Gliss stepped forward.
Prowl looked at the two bots and clarified, "Both of them?"
"Yup, both of 'em."
"They're yours."
"Thanks."
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The two mechs followed Gliss down the corridors, Jazz trailing behind, until they reached the room reserved for Special Ops. It had originally been furnished as a conference room, but Jazz had stamped his special touch on the place. The original long table had been removed and replaced with a smaller round table. A large berth had been shoved in the corner and was currently covered with a series of maps and diagrams. The cabinets and shelves meant for refreshments were instead filled with wires and parts used to create explosive devices. Gliss poured three cubes of energon and passed them out, then turned to Jazz and spoke.
"I've got a bot to meet, he's got a lead on those tracking devices we want. I'm outta here for the next cycle or two."
"Take care of yerself; call if ya need me."
"No prob, Jazz. Later."
"Yeah, Gliss, later." Jazz turned to the two bots as Gliss exited. "My name's Jazz, and I'll be instructing ya on the finer points of being w' this group of mechs."
Mirage glanced around and nodded. "As you know, I am Mirage."
The little white mech finally spoke. "I…don't have a designation, sir. I was abandoned by my creator."
Jazz looked at him. "How old are ya? Or do ya know?"
"No, sir, I don't. I supposed I'm young, but I don't feel it."
Jazz nodded sharply. "I hear ya. I've been there myself. We'll figure out a designation for ya. Meanwhile, this is where yer gonna live for the time being. Th' thing about our group is that ya don't always know who's in the group and who's not. No sensitive material is left here, it's all contained under a hellova lot a codin' in our main computer. This…" and he waved at the maps littering the berth, "…is for show only. We work hard at deceiving everybot, including our side, about what we're doin'."
"What, exactly, is this group of mechs?" Mirage asked.
"We're Special Operations, meanin' we do everything that needs doing and sparing the big boss bots getting their hands dirty. We spy, we sneak, we blow things up, we do whatever needs doin'."
The white mech and the blue exchanged glances, then turned back to Jazz.
"And in the meantime, we're the ones that get the most direct hits on the Decepticons. Ya want revenge? We're the ones that dish it out. Join us, and we'll teach ya how to hit the 'Cons where it hurts them the most."
"I'm in." Mirage said.
"Me, too." This from the white mech.
"Welcome ta Special Ops." Jazz told them.