Jazz paused at the door and glared at Prowl behind his visor as he finished sending out the coded radio call to assemble his 'troops'. Leaning carefully against the wall of the Rec Room, the SIC simply nodded politely. Jazz turned to his over-eager escort. "Stay out here, 'Bee."

"Aw, but –"

"Stay." Jazz stepped into the Rec Room, speaking into his radio. Swoop?

Me Swoop and him Grimlock coming!, was the immediate reply. Even more reassuring was the distant, thunderous echo of the two Dinobots closing in at full gallop.

For the moment, Jazz turned to simply absorb the scene before him, and had to admit Prowl had gone to great pains to set it up. The TV was on, but the couch had been upended as, likely, Bluestreak tried to scramble away from his attacker. The gunner's body laid on the floor in a pool of fluids, a blackened crater over his torso and another through his cranium. Jazz crouched down over it, feeling a well of unease and a frantic desire to call the real Bluestreak and make sure he was OK…. He peered carefully at Prowl. Blue?

Ummmm… yes?

Jazz hid a smile. You Ok?

Oh, yes, I am, I mean, I know I'm not supposed to be, I'm supposed to be dead and all, but I'm not, I mean, it's not for real. Do you know how long this'll take? My left doorwing's all bent under my back.

"I took the liberty of calling our Examiner." Prowl's voice was very quiet. "He should be here momentarily."

"Hmph." Jazz kept his hands firmly to himself. Outside he heard Trailbreaker come to an abrupt halt, and a moment later gasp loudly. "Trail? You Ok out there?"

Trailbreaker came into the Rec Room, eyes wide and glued on Bluestreak's body. He flinched visibly. "Um, y-yeah. W-what happened?"

"That's our job t' find out, remember?"

"Oh. Oh!" Something seemed to clear from Trailbreaker's optics at that. "Oh, right. Sorry. Um, what do you want me to do?"

"Map out the room. I want to be able to walk through it any time I want. And remember not to touch anything yet."

"Right." Behind Trail, Jazz could see Bumblebee trying to peer in, only to squawk in dismay as the sizable bulwark of Grimlock planted himself in front of the door and muttered something. Several voices replied in dismay. Swoop slipped into the Rec Room and crouched by Jazz. "What we do now?"

"We wait."

Jazz? It was Sideswipe, out on patrol with his brother. Don't tell me –

Oh, yeah.

What, now? Of all times, NOW? If anything, the Lamborghini sounded royally ticked off at missing the start of things. Slaggit…

What's your ETA?

I'm stuck on patrol until the end of the shift. What's happening?

Someone shot Bluestreak.

No kidding? Awesome! We'll just get him to blab who it was -

No cheatin', 'Sides!

Aww, c'mon…

"Excuse me. Excuse me!" First Aid sounded distinctly peeved as he made his way past the ever-growing crowd gathering at the entrance to the Rec Room.

"Let 'im in, Grim." Jazz motioned to the Dinobot, who stepped aside, glowering at everyone as if daring them to try to make it past him in that brief moment.

"What's the big idea – Oh, for Primus' sake, Prowl." First Aid apparently had gotten as much sleep as Jazz had, and leveled a cool glare at Prowl. "Now?"

"Crime's hardly ever convenient", the SIC replied calmly.

"C'mon, Aid." Jazz smiled winningly at the young medic.

"Oh, fine." He knelt by Bluestreak. "Good grief, what a mess." He paused momentarily, shook his head and threw a quick look at Prowl –

- as if, Jazz thought, trying to remember his lines. He hid a grin. "So, what's the verdict?"

First Aid leaned forward to run a suspiciously silent scanner over the gunner. "He's dead."

"What killed him, I mean?"

"Are you asking me to guess? I haven't even looked at him!"

Jazz sighed, aware his twenty-four hours were ticking away steadily. "Theorize, Aid."

First Aid put away the scanner and ran gentle hands over the dead body. The 'dead body' promptly twitched and giggled. "Hush, you!" Aid rapped him on the forehead.

"Sorry, tickles", Bluestreak whispered.

"Stay dead, Blue." Jazz was trying not to chortle. "Aid?"

"Well, if you want my opinion, it was this." He pointed at the vastly gaping wound on Bluestreak's chest. "Close range, from something very, very powerful. Nicked the core, almost instantaneous death. Pretty nice marksmanship, too. This shot, overkill." He pointed to the head wound.

"Or maybe him killer not want us see him Bluestreak's memory banks", Swoop said quietly.

"I believe that." Jazz rocked back on his heels. "Anything else you can tell us, Aid?"

"Not yet. I have to do an… autopsy first." He ran the unusual word out slowly. In their war-torn world, the causes of a mech's death were usually too blatant to warrant an investigation, but obviously the young medic was finally swinging into the idea of it all.

"How long'll that take?" Almost as soon as he'd asked the question Jazz saw a thin smile curl up the corners of Prowl's mouth. Yeah, smile while you can, he thought, fighting down the urge to shake Bluestreak for information.

"I should have it done before I go on shift." First Aid gave his 'dead body' a pat and they all straightened up. "Shall I call you when I have more information?"

"Please do. I'll send Perceptor and Swoop over, if that's Ok?"

Again First Aid looked at Prowl, who shrugged minutely. "I don't see why not. Do you need the body here?"

Jazz looked at Swoop, who shook his head. "Nah, we're good."

"Then I'll get started. Come on, dead body." First Aid lent a hand to Bluestreak, who promptly jumped up, wincing as the errant doorwing unkinked against his back, and smiled brightly at everyone. He went out to acclaim from, it sounded like, half the population of the Ark.

"Swoop", Jazz said quietly. "Take some samples from those fluids and have a look at 'em with Perceptor. Maybe the gun the killer used has some sort o' particular energy signature." Outside, several people were apparently admiring the gunner's gaping wounds, and for once everyone seemed happy to listen to him chattering on at light speed. That, Jazz thought, ought to make Hound happy. He'd detected no scent of ozone, which led him to believe that rather than physically mimic the wound Prowl had opted for a faster, and much more accurate, solution. He couldn't for the life of him figure out where the Jeep was hiding, though. "Trail, how you doin'?"

"Almost done", the SUV replied from the back of the Rec Room. "You did say the whole room, right?"

"Yah." Jazz stood up and walked up to the door, turning around to stare at the scene once again, trying to etch it in his mind, trying to figure out if there were anything he was missing. He moved back into the room towards the upended couch and crouched down by it.

"Not so easy when the camera doesn't point out the glaringly obvious, is it?", Prowl asked in a quiet breath behind him.

"Are you taunting me, Prowl?" He looked up with a smirk.

"Primus forbid." The SIC stepped back politely. "Please go on."

In truth, all Jazz could see was what he'd already guessed at: Blue had been watching TV. Someone else had come in. A gun had shown up. Blue had tried scrambling back and had been shot. The impact had driven him over the couch, upending it, and then the killer had moved closer and shot him again. He rather thought Swoop had it right, it had been done so they couldn't access Blue's memory banks, which would have been too easy. So what was Blue doing in the Rec Room at unholy o'clock in the morning, watching… -he turned to the TV- Cartoon Network? Likely meeting his killer. "Grim!"

Grimlock poked his head into the room. "What you Jazz want?", he asked politely.

"I want t' talk to every Autobot who was up and about between 0200 an' now. Talk with Prowl t' fix it up."

"Where you want them?"

Jazz scratched at his forehead. "Don't I have an office?", he asked Prowl.

"Not that you've ever bothered to use it."

"Well, I'm usin' it now."

"No gut-feeling guesses?"

Jazz made a mocking gesture at the SIC. "Hey Tracks!", he hollered, having recognized one of the voices outside.

"Yeah?", the Corvette replied from a sudden and profound silence.

"Who do you think did it?"

"How the frag should I know?"

"Make a guess!"

Another silence, this time full of whispers and quiet chuckles. "That's a hard one. I'm sure most everyone's wanted to kill Blue at some point -"

"Hey!", the 'dead body' complained loudly, to much chuckling, including his own.

"But, if I had to guess, I'd say… urm… He's out on patrol, never mind. Oh, shut up", Tracks muttered to the snickers being directed at him. "I dunno", he admitted at last after another long silence. "Prowl?"

There was much hooting at that, and the four Autobots in the room crossed amused looks. Jazz clapped Prowl on the shoulder. "Well, guess you're as good as innocent."

"If previous experience is to stand", Prowl replied mildly.

"I'm done." Trailbreaker came to stand by Jazz. "I mapped the whole room out, it's all uploaded to Teletraan on a secure file."

"Swoop?" Jazz turned to the Dinobot.

"Me Swoop have the samples." The Dinobot stood up. "Me Swoop go wake him Perceptor up."

"Please do." Jazz turned back to Prowl, tapping his fingers over his mouth. "I'm going t' need access to Blue's subspace."

"I thought you might." Prowl's tone was placid. "I will see to it before I go off-shift. I will find you at your… office, I take it?" His lips twitched.

"Damn right you will." Jazz headed out. "Alright, alright, c'mon in and gawk to your lil' sparks' content", he told the crowd outside amicably. He saw a familiar blue-and-red bodywork at the back of the crowd and grinned. "Hey, Smokescreen! How's the betting?"

"Three-to-one, so far. There's also a pool on how many hours it'll take you."

"For or against?"

"What a question." Smokescreen smiled guilelessly. "This is Prowl you're going up against, Jazz." He shrugged.

"Non-believers." Jazz mocked them all as he headed off to try and figure out where this much-vaunted office of his actually was.