A/N:

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers.
(BTW, if you got emailed for all 12 chapters, sorry about that. I'm trying to break up my stories into easily read formats, so 57 pages were broken into 12 chapters.)

This is for the Prowl x Jazz LJ Community 2015 annual challenge. Go to the LJ Community* for the challenge prompt's post, or see story end notes for the condensed version.

I used the Aequitas supercomputer as a naming guide. Examples: "Arx" means citadel, "Acies" means army, "Somnus" means sleep.

Not beta'd! Didn't even get a second alpha review because of its due date and an evil overlord bunny emerging, demanding no mercy. So… many… pages! So much research! Tis alien fanfiction, bunny, why did looking up Latin matter?

Otherwise, hope you enjoy! Feel free to point out errors, issues, and/or love.

Time:
Klik = Cybertronian equivalent of a second
Breem = "" minute
Joor = "" hour
Orn = "" day
Deca-orn = "" week
Mega-orn = "" month

*LJ Prompt: prowlxjazz. livejournal 926239. html (remove the spaces, add standard internet tags that FFnet keeps removing)

Jazz leaned against a wall forming the entrance of Kaon's Arx, a military center designed for virtual reality based training. Soldiers and officers moved around him, going in or out, depending on their duties. He prayed the last member of his training mates wouldn't be late because there were at least two others for the session already on the verge of being unhappy. Each was reason enough on their own for staying on their good side, as they were both his superiors, but one Jazz was loosely seeing off-duty.

Neither of them were easy for Jazz to always please, as they were big on procedures, regulations, and sit-down lectures. Where Jazz lacked stillness in office or lecture settings, though, he often made up in proficiency in missions. He excelled in Special Ops training, able to hold every servo and fan still for almost twice length of any other soldier. Despite that strength his command chain was holding him back.

A handful of brightly-colored recruits shifted and a smooth blue-white Towers mech practically glided through them. If Jazz didn't know Mirage so well, he might have interpreted such an entrance as pompous.

Jazz hopped up and pivoted into the Arx entrance, motioning for Mirage to hurry and join him. "Come on, Raj, training starts soon and I'd like to start off on the right ped. Preferably even stay there."

Mirage chuckled, a deep smooth sound as the pair started walking through the halls. "Still working to impress the one you spend time with in a less-than-professional capacity?"

"And Ultra Magnus. He's running the training session. He already told me he still agrees with command on keeping me from getting placed into Special Ops." Jazz's mood sullied. "He says I need to be able to sit through one of his lectures without fidgeting to prove I have discipline. And that's just his first requirement!"

"Then you're doomed. Unless you can convince his acting second for private lessons?" The subtle smirk on the spy's face was as teasing as an outright leer.

"Already had a few. Think I'm improving." A smirk slipped past Jazz's professional mask before he squashed it. He stopped at a plain door, marked "1284," Mirage following his lead. "Bee's in there, too."

The door slid open and the two stepped into a room fitted with eight specialty berths along three walls, giving space to the three already standing in the middle. Jazz greeted, "Ultra Magnus, Clamp Down. Jazz, reporting for training."

"Mirage, reporting for training," the spy added.

Ultra Magnus curtly nodded. Clamp Down, a black-and-white former Enforcer with accents redder than a corrections pen, offered the slightly warmer greeting of a pressed smile. Bumblebee grinned brightly. The young mech quickly updated the arrivals. "Plans changed. We're going to be joining a mass training session."

The saboteur-in-training raised both optic ridges. "Really? When does it start?"

Ultra Magnus responded. "Ten breems ago. I recognize that you are on time for our original plans, but in times that you have nothing scheduled beforehand, you should try arriving early."

Jazz kept his engine in check, not letting the displeased rumble be heard by Magnus's or Clamp's audios. He didn't care much for already losing points, even if unofficially. Mirage showed no reaction to the light chastising, well-schooled from Towers society.

Ultra Magnus pointed to the four berths against the back wall. "You three connect there. Clamp and I will connect on the side wall."

Jazz, Mirage, and Bumblebee settled themselves into the VR training berths, designed to stimulate their frames to match the training, minus the actual damage. Jazz hooked the primary cable line for the army VR server, Acies, into his neck's recharge port. With a quick command the world dropped away.

An incredibly bland bare metal world surrounded him, devoid of any non-regulatory colors. A clear indicator that Ultra Magnus was in charge of the team, able to designate movements or kick mechs out. In front of him read "1284: Acies Connection Room" in crisp black. A small console below the labeling waited for Magnus's commands. Jazz glanced about the room as Bumblebee and Mirage materialized next to him, followed by Ultra Magnus and Clamp Down.

Ultra Magnus flickered, reappearing by the console. "Our exercise is a surprise by the High Command stationed in and around Kaon. A simple exercise, but one designed to see how well the various units respond to quick changes. We will be continuing to function as a Special Operations team, but in a less serious capacity."

The way he said "less serious" peaked Jazz's curiosity and he hoped the rumors are true. "Sir, is this 'Capture the Matrix'?"

Clamp Down nodded. "Yes. We're on the green team, trying to steal the blue team's Matrix."

Ultra Magnus didn't look too terribly pleased but he reached out to the console, his fingertips imprinted with his access codes. With a few taps he uploaded a small green-paint dot on all five members' chasses, followed kliks later by weapons designed for their skills. Ultra Magnus had his usual blaster, while Clamp Down his usual rifle. Both lacked their shoulder-mounted missiles, restricted by the simulation's rules.

Bumblebee, who switched to "black bee" mode, was given scout weapons: a short-range blaster, a rifle with a sniper scope, and a handful of different type of grenades. Jazz had the same set of grenades, with smoke, flash, and percussion, but he also had several types of explosions. Jazz checked and was pleasantly please to find an electromagnetic pulse (EMP) grenade. He wasn't so worried with only being equipped with a short-range blaster and a short blade.

Like the scout and saboteur, the spy's short-range blaster had a silencer. Mirage wasn't equipped with grenades but several types of discreet surveillance devices. "Sir," Mirage inquired, "will I have the same limitations on my cloaking device as I actually do, or will this game allow me extra time?"

"You'll start with the same limitations," Ultra Magnus began. "We don't know where the other team's Matrix is located, but it won't be out in the open. It'll be well guarded. Mirage will plant the surveillance equipment to find out where it's located, while Bumblebee will assist him in advancing locations. Jazz is in charge of getting Mirage extra cloaking time."

Jazz's restrained smile boomed before he brought his excitement down to an approvable level. "How?"

"For every sentry point you disable, you'll earn Mirage ten more breems."

"Will that be enough?"

"Any eliminated sentry points will reassemble anew every thirty breems. You'll have plenty to keep you busy and plenty of opportunity to keep Mirage's cloaking powered."

The room labeled disappeared, replaced by a map. Ultra Magnus walked them through the initial setup. "We'll be placed on the outskirts of Kaon. We represent the south half, so you three will be infiltrating the north half. Clamp and I will provide a 'home' location."

Clamp Down nodded absently, looking to Ultra Magnus. "We'll also be providing coverage for Jazz if he's pushed back, or either of you should you need to return. Respawns for us are every forty-five breems, and you'll respawn back by Ultra Magnus."

Jazz fought the urge to impatiently tap his ped. If he died he could read up on this as he waited. Clamp Down continued, "Depending on why you're killed or kicked out, Ultra Magnus may decide to keep you in a penalty pen. Abiding by regulations is more important than winning the game. Remember, this is a training simulation so how well you follow rules of combat will be the ultimate measure of your performance."

Jazz blurted out, "Can we go already? Performances won't be worth anything if the Blue team steals our Matrix while we debrief."

Ultra Magnus narrowed his optics and pursed his lips is disapproval, but Clamp Down look more disappointed. Jazz didn't have a chance to save face, as Ultra Magnus beat him to speaking. "Get ready. We'll be dropped into an on-going battle in three… two… one." He pushed a button.

The five appeared on the outskirts of Kaon, the sky clouded black by raining long-range artillery explosions. Mechs dashed around, weaving in and out of debris.

Bumblebee flinched and settled low, crouching as he pulled out the short-range blaster. He called to his teammates, "I thought this was a simple capture game!"

Ultra Magnus replied with his typical battle authoritative voice, "Our purpose is to capture the enemy's Matrix. Other teams have the purpose of defending from the rebels, and some are the rebels. Keep your helm in the game and heed your surroundings, but don't deviate from your purpose."

"Absolute insanity!" Jazz laughed.

Mirage drawled, "Yes, absolute. Shall we go?"

"Yeah!" Jazz whooped.

"Then get me some cloaking power."

Ultra Magnus nodded and shot a stray shell high in the air, causing it to disintegrate far enough over helm that harmless ashes fell around them. "Jazz, head to the north outer sentries. Mirage, set up surveillance along any path he clears. When the sentries reform, those who respawn will be calling into their command to get the latest update. We'll plan our next course of actions from there. Jazz, take point. Bumblebee provide coverage to Mirage's back until he gets in. Then hold until Mirage returns."

The spy disappeared but Bumblebee's heightened awareness allowed him to roughly pinpoint the spy so long as he kept track. Jazz hopped into the lead position, keeping low and slithering threw the destruction as he sought the first unsuspecting sentry point along the outer wall.

Jazz melded into the charred wall, moving his body in alignment so the black paint match the burn marks while white paint blended with the blast rings. All three guards were visible, though never at once. He watched their movements, confined to a tight circular area below covered roofing. A fourth mech wouldn't fit in there. Their movements were synchronized and the motions of the guns gave away the pattern of their sweeps. Their trainee mistakes of giving away their optics' gaze made it all too easy for Jazz. Their physical paths went wide, clearly uncomfortable with such a confined space and trying to stretch the distance for all its worth.

Such easy prey. In all too little of time he crawled up a crumbled tiny section of wall, ignored for appearing too tiny for a mech. Jazz had the patience to twist his body around, timing the motions and maintaining statue-like stillness for the breems it took for the guns to move away. Upon climbing the crumbled wall, his position still crouched, he stepped right behind a mech's back. With one swift motion he thrust up through the back and into the mech's rear spark chamber wall. Before the mech could finish a gasp Jazz had his blaster out and silently tapped the other two once.

A tiny green meter on his right forearm appeared and blinked while filling to the ten breem slot. Jazz grinned for all the predator he was in these games, knowing the sentries would likely be guarded by similarly foolish teams. Keeping Mirage's cloaking powered so they could capture the Matrix was well within his power. Hopefully this wouldn't turn pitiful and dull.

He flitted from one sentry group to another, taking out three and on his way to a fourth by the time the first regenerated, and with it so did the soldiers. Jazz realized that while his respawn time might be 45 breems for him, it was 30 breems for guards.

Jazz was on his way to taking on the fifth when he received orders from Ultra Magnus for the three teammates to relocate at the marker on the transmitted map. Mirage's surveillance revealed the most like path to the northern quarantine area, which his surveillance also indicated it was the most likely Matrix hiding place.

Ultra Magnus and Clamp Down stayed behind, securing a fallback position where safe. Jazz was tasked with eliminating the inner sentry points, which he quickly learned were better staffed. The long breems of infiltration the outer guards turned into tens of breems. It added a new challenge element. If he couldn't clear the next sentries within 29 breems then the first would reappear with the guards already seeking an attacker on their sister sentries. Almost twice he was picked off before he better adapted by delaying the next attack for 40 breems. He used the 29 breems for moving to the best covered position, be it structural protection or camouflage, as close to the top as possible. After 10 breems of the respawned guards and the targeted guards looking for him, they'd finally relaxed their heightened state of alert.

That changed when he was at the fifth tower from the quarantine wall. He wouldn't have that kind of time per sentry point to get Mirage up against the wall, where they could regroup. Their regrouping point doubled as a major checkpoint. Ultra Magnus and Clamp Down would automatically teleported to that location for the next stage.

There was only one hiding ledge on the fifth tower, but its diminutive size severely limited Jazz's options. While his grenades could reach the target from his hiding location, the resultant blast/smoke/sound would alert everyone else. Suddenly he heard a disembodied voice alerting his tower and the next sentry point that an interloper was in position to attack that next point. A disembodied voice he was certain belonged to Bumblebee. When those above him placed their backs to him he fired.

The pair worked together, Bumblebee using captured enemy communicators for deception and the occasional assistance of Mirage. His cloaking device was sufficiently charged. Soon enough they found themselves against the quarantine wall and their two leaders appeared. A bubble formed around them.

"Good work, team," Ultra Magnus commended. "Checkpoints are protected by force fields and cloaks. It'll last 3 breems."

"Indeed, good work," Clamp Down concurred. He looked at all three. "You've succeeded so far without breaking protocols, although Jazz has come close to the legal ethics portion." Clamp Down stopped his optics at Jazz, but his expression had a note of weary consideration. "The monitoring systems of Acies has you on alert for nearing that line."

"It's a game and it drops you out before you can feel the kill." Jazz shrugged off the concern. "No trauma, only the frustration of reading the summary report of your mistakes while you wait 30 or 45 breems. Whatever Acies's systems are calling borderline legal is probably a matter of perspective, given the nature of Special Ops."

Ultra Magnus's face pinched hard. "You are not Special Ops yet."

Clamp Down's expression was much better. Jazz wasn't about to back down for what he saw them overlooking. "This is a Special Ops training assignment, taking place inside a battle zone. A battle going beyond a half-orn now, and the enemy is getting more intense as they learn with each respawn. So yeah, I'm going to act like a Special Ops agent, making quick decisions – "

"Impulse decision," Clamp Down argued.

"– and they'll be more grey than white. Now, we're sitting inside enemy territory with the countdown timer running. What's our orders?"

Ultra Magnus huffed but called for a quick summary of surveillance discoveries. With a breem left, Ultra Magnus laid down a plan as he transmitted a grainy map, marked with enemy dots and the suspected best run path.

"Alright team," he concluded, "we breech the wall hot, use it to cover our tracks and then go as silently as we can from there. Clear?"

"Clear," the rest said in near-unison.

Jazz planted half of his percussion grenades and explosions against the wall, using putty he picked up from his sentry attacks, arranging them almost artfully; musically, really, so they set off in a rhythmic timing to rumble the wall lose for the next explosion. Bumblebee had his percussion grenades ready, Mirage holding the scout's smoke grenades. Jazz was ready to throw his EMP grenade as far down the middle as possible once Mirage ignited the smoke. As soon as things turned hot again after their breech, as Jazz suspected despite Magnus's belief the disruptions and "kills" would be enough, he'd cover Mirage and Bumblebee with his blaster and remaining grenades.

As soon as their force field drop, Jazz detonated his makeshift attack. The wall exploded into the quarantine, away from his team, and Bumblebee compounded the damage by tossing three percussions. He fell behind cover when a few shots grazed him. The enemy's blind fire ceased when the grenades went off.

Mirage, audios off, invisibly dashed into the commotion and scattered his smoke attack until the area was almost entirely blacked out, before backing out. When Mirage flickered his cloaking device to signal his clearance, Jazz tossed the EMP grenade as hard as he could with his elbow. Throwing with his should would arc and risk the grenade clearing a patch of smoke, right into someone's shooting path.

The EMP went off and the gasped sounds of stunned mechs filled the air, many "dying" instantly. Most mechs survived by weren't moving, having been far enough from pulse at denotation for lethal attack through their armor, but plenty close for being crippled.

They ran through the smoke and around confused blue-dotted mechs. Ultra Magnus took lead, with Mirage and Bumblebee behind him while the other two held the rear. Magnus shot several standing mechs until he found a protective wall nook, just within the limits of the smoke cover.

Clamp Down looked at Jazz as they crouched together. "Try to keep your impulses under control. There's a way to do this without walking a tight legal line."

Jazz calmly in-vented deeply, slightly regretting it for the tiny bit of smoke pulled into his vents. "I'll try my best." Jazz hastily kissed Clamp before moving his helm back towards his forward-sitting teammates. Only Jazz's optics lingered on Clamp from behind the visor.

Clamp Down slightly smiled, but the unease showed in the lines from a set jaw. That was the same expression Jazz saw several times before when Clamp reminded him about his impulsive nature or tendencies to walk tight lines along legalities.

When Ultra Magnus signaled to move, Bumblebee and a cloaked Mirage took over as point. Jazz slipped past Magnus to become the new middle. They moved around supplies crates, Jazz knocking out a few mechs (rather than eliminating them behind their backs), until they saw an enclosure with a Matrix-like blue glow inside. The minibot and the invisible spy moved to steal it as instructed. Jazz moved as close as he could to the enclosure's one opening, hiding behind a few cylinders.

What triggered the detection they didn't know, but suddenly opposition poured out from the walls above and from the enclosure. Some stayed within the enclosure, cutting off the two members from escape. Ultra Magnus, the one with the biggest blaster, blew several crates so their shards flew into the ground-level attackers.

A frantic hail came from Bumblebee. ::They have us pinned! We're behind some spare weapons fixturing but our cover is being chipped away with each shot. They have blast shields up, so out ammo and grenades aren't piercing it. Requesting advice!::

Jazz laid down and peered into the enclosure, assessing the situation firsthand. A mech stepped into position behind the blast shield, allowing Jazz to witness how they were moving around the shield and aligning themselves. Too many mechs were behind that shield for Jazz to stop without being stopped himself. The blast shield was a one-way force field that completely blocked all angles of attacks from his current position, as well as his trapped teammates. He could barely make out Bumblebee's form, although he was right about enemy fire destroying his cover. Each round of blasts took out enough cover for Jazz to see the mini-scout a little clearer.

The observations sparked an idea but Jazz tried reasoning through the madness to keep the impulsive brashness in check. When the next attack round tore up Bumblebee's shoulder he stopped trying to resist it. Death might not be painful here, but injuries weren't.

He pulled out two grenades and set them for detonation in each hand, one explosion and one percussion. He scurried low to the ground until he was behind the fixated mechs and the shield they put too much faith in protecting them.

::Raj, Bee, turn off your audios. Get in as small as you can because there's about to be an explosion and shockwave. As soon as you can move, grab their Matrix. Good luck making it back to the original home base.::

Jazz moved to close the last bit of distance between him and his enemy. Those closest to him didn't have time to turn before he set off the grenades.

Jazz woke up in the Acies Connection Room, still colored bare metal. As his heightened senses returned to normal, aches began emerging across his frame from his activities throughout the entire exercise. He knew his real frame would feel the same, completing the full effects of training in a mental and physical sense. Only his death wouldn't translate.

About fifteen breems later his team dropped in abruptly, made extra abrupt by Ultra Magnus's ranting. "How could you do that, Jazz? Do you know how many protocols you broke?!"

"We won and I didn't really die."

"That's not the point! We may have captured the target, but we did not win. Remember what I said in the beginning, about winning being about performance? Victory by suicide doesn't count, even if it's a fake suicide!" The large mech was practically hovering over Jazz.

"Magnus," Clamp Down cut into the rant he knew would be about protocols and performance management. "Perhaps I could finish the discussion with Jazz while you logoff with Mirage and Bumblebee? You can take them to the post-mission meeting room and debrief."

Magnus settled back. "Fine; acceptable. Bumblebee, Mirage, logoff and we'll go through debriefing and medical checks to make sure your frames were not incorrectly stressed."

"Yes, sir," both agreed.

The three dropped away and the room flashed white, indicating no control had been taken over since Magnus's departure. Jazz turned to face Clamp Down. "I know it seems rash, but I saw Bumblebee taking serious injuries. Unlike when I stab a mech through a spark chamber during training, that ghost pain stays around for ours. For all I knew, Mirage was being injured as well. I wouldn't apply this to real conflict, because there are a few things I would've argued. For example…"

Clamp Down held up a silence hand and Jazz obliged with only a frown to show his annoyance. "Whatever you're about to say are afterthoughts from waiting in here, isn't it? You saw a quick solution and went for it. I'm sure a real battle would be different in some way, but what remains the same is that you're impulsive when things get hot, you lack patience for dull or non-mission activities, and you play loose with mission legalities. That may sound like Special Ops to you, but not to Magnus or me. It's clear to me that I can't get through to you the values any of that, and I'm just too frustrated now. My skills can be used elsewhere more effectively. Goodbye Jazz, I hope you figure out how to make it."

Clamp Down disappeared with his final word barely free of his vocalizer. Jazz stood dumbfounded. An urge to logoff as fast as possible and catch the mech popped into his mind, but he crushed it. Such an action would only prove to Clamp Down he was making the right decision by giving up on Jazz.

Instead, Jazz sat down and pulled his legs in close. He should logoff and go to his post-op debrief and medical check. He would go, but not after taking a moment to calm down. He knew Ultra Magnus was thinking along the same lines and while certain tones would be absent from Ultra Magnus's speech that were in Clamp Down's, he feared the words would be similar. He didn't want to be given up on, he just struggled to always be what they wanted. He struggled on finding that balance within himself, or even keeping someone willing to work with him until he got there.