Chapter 2
Jazz was one of Optimus Prime's most trusted and loyal soldiers. Although his primary purpose within the Autobot ranks was overseeing various Special Operations, he performed a wide scope of duties. Fearless fighter... ambassador... mentor... and in Prime's absence, acting commander. Jazz was a fun-loving bot, one that aspired to fit in despite the locale of the locals. His tenure in the Autobots had been one that was greatly admired. Had he not showed hesitation when it came to handing out discipline, Jazz could have received command of his own Autobot squad. But he enjoyed being everyone's friend, and would rather serve alongside his comrades than in front of them.
Warpath and Brawn entered the room through its sliding door, and waited for what was to come. It wasn't the reprimand that worried them. They both knew Jazz wasn't hip to that type of thing. What they were curious about was how Jazz would handle their gripe. He was fond, to use a human term, of making 'bots hug and make up. Never that directly, mind you, but that's the gist of it.
"What's the deal, you two?" Jazz asked. "Ironhide said you guys were going at it, and it would've gotten ugly if he hadn't stepped in." He paused and examined their facial expressions. They were obviously sorry for their actions, which pleased the laid back officer. "What caused it?" You guys stressed out? Bored?"
Brawn spoke up. "It was just a little competition, Jazz. That's all." He silently prayed they would be spared any embarrassing emotional torture.
"That's all, huh?"
"Yeah," Warpath agreed. "We just got a little carried away."
Jazz had heard all he needed, and felt the situation had been resolved. They realized they had acted like Decepticons, and regretted it. Case-closed. In another second, he was prepared to dismiss them and forget the whole thing. Then, they started back up.
"We?" Brawn asked, snapping his head in Warpath's direction. "You started it all by running your mouth!"
Warpath raised his left arm and pointed a finger towards Brawn. "And you resorted to violence! The other minibots are right, you ARE a tin-plated bully!"
Aware that he was becoming the third man out, Jazz slapped his palm down hard across the top of his desk. The sudden noise put an end to their bickering before it could escalate. "Seems you two have some issue with each other," Jazz stated, with a slight hint of a smile on his face. "I don't think my usual recommendations will do at this point." Hearing that, both Brawn and Warpath let out a sigh of relief. There would be no 'holding-hands' therapy. "No," Jazz continued. "You guys need to relieve all this frustration and anger in a manner more suited to your personalities, before your attitudes become a liability to yourselves and to others."
"So," Brawn asked, "You're going to let us rumble?"
"In a way," Jazz answered. "Wheeljack and Hoist have just completed a combat simulation program. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were going to test it out, but I think I'll bump them and let you two go at it instead."
Warpath cocked his head in a curious manner. "Simulation?"
"I'll let Wheeljack and Hoist go over the details," Jazz said. "I'm still not too sure on how the thing works myself."