Fandom: Transformers Bayverse/World of Darkness
Pairing: Jazz/Prowl, Sunstreaker/Sideswipe, Ratchet/Ironhide, Mirage/Hound
Rating: PG-13
Codes: Slash
Author: Gatekat and fallentaiyoko on LJ
Summary: Darkstalker, now almost fully repaired, facing Prime and a few of the command officers.
Notes: Written in the Point of View fanverse (community .livejournal .com/tf_matrix)
My Jazz is heavily, heavily influenced by 'Take Hold of My Spinning World', 'Where You and I Collide' by Hearts of Eternity
Turning a Con 3: Facing the Music
As far as Darkstalker could tell, her upgrades seemed to have finally settled in, as well as the last of Ratchet's repairs. Although she was still quite nervous, the adult upgrades apparently provided help in simply coping with her emotions. Still, sooner or later she would have to face Prime and his officers to see if she would be allowed to stay, and hopefully find a skill she could do that could help her earn her energon.
Jolt had been consistently kind and patient with her, while Sideswipe glared full-on swords at her whenever he'd been assigned to guard duty here. Jazz liked to talk, but preferred to listen to her. He'd sing too, stuff from Cybertron, from Earth and from dozens of other worlds he'd visited. Mirage tended to be silent and aloof, while Hound, who she was sure was Mirage's lover, was nearly as outgoing as Jazz, but focused on the lesser biological races of the world. Streetwise and Groove were both fun, gestalt brothers of the other senior medic, First Aid she'd found out.
It left her to wonder if Sideswipe's scowl directed at everyone except Jolt, or just here. Would other mechs here glare at her like that too?
In a sense, she wanted to go ahead and get the upcoming meeting over with, if only so she could get her mind off of it.
She looked towards the door to see it was Jolt guarding her, and he smiled at her when she looked at him.
"Feeling better?" he asked with that smile that seemed fixed in place.
She gave him a shy smile in return. "Yeah. Think the upgrades helpede settle some things out too. By the way, does Sideswipe glare at everyone but you like that, or is it just at me?"
"He glares at pretty much everybody," Jolt grinned cheekily at her. "You rate that extra-special glare because I actually touched you. He's just a bit possessive still."
"Oh," she nodded pulled out her 'doodling' datapad, starting a blank page to doodle random abstract shapes and lines. Between such doodles and snippets of musical notation, it was to the point that she would soon have to upload the data to more permanent storage or start deleting things to make room.
"And how have you been?" she asked as well.
"Good," he stretched and relaxed. "It's kinda nice having guard duty instead of patrols for a while, and you make sure I get lots of undivided Sideswipe attention when I do get off duty. Your repairs and upgrades have been useful to watch too. Think you're ready to face Prime and the command staff?"
She gave a noncommittal sound, replying, "Yeah. I mean, I'm nervous and all, but that's not something that waiting will make any better. If anything, waiting longer'll make it worse, since then I'll have more time to come up with worst-case scenarios. Sideswipe's a lucky mech. Maybe someday I'll get to know somebody and we'll care for each other like you two do."
"You're in the right place for it," Jolt's smile turned a bit more serious. "Autobots do tend to pair up, and you're young. You've got a lot of time to find somebody. If old by the rules Prowl can find a mech to bond with, there's hope for everybody." He paused briefly as a message came in. "Everyone who needs to be at the hearing is available, so I'm to bring you there."
Darkstalker subspaced her datapad and got up from the berth. "All right. I'm as ready as I'll ever be. And if protocol says you still have to treat me as a Decepticon prisoner right now because things haven't been made official yet, it's all right."
She held out her arms, expecting to be cuffed for the trip to the hearing, since she hadn't yet taken any oaths. She'd also heard that the security officer was a bit prone to freaking out, and she doubted being completely unrestrained would sit well with him.
"Nah," he shook his head with an unrepentant grin firmly in place. "You won over Jazz. Not even Red'll challenge that. Well, not often at any rate," he motioned her to follow him. "Besides, if you try something, you won't make it two steps before somebody nails you. Between Sunny, Sides, Hide and Raj, I doubt you'd even see who took you out."
"Oh, I wouldn't doubt that," she said as she followed him through the medbay, one better equipped than she could have even dream up. "I mean, I wouldn't be completely surprised if part of the reason I never could learn to fight was my instructors were doing it wrong, but either way, I couldn't even hit the broad side of a battleship with a blaster."
Though trying to make sure she kept up with him, she couldn't help but look around at everything and everyone she saw along the way. Didn't want to die because they misinterpreted her sightseeing as trying to wander off, after all.
"I'm sure Hide and Jazz will give it a try anyway, for just that reason," Jolt smiled at her and intentionally slowed when they walked outside into the bright tropical sun, sweltering humid heat and cool sea breezes. "From those doodles, you might find an ally in Sunny of all mechs, and I know Jazz has been driving everyone nuts humming that melody you showed him last time he was watching you, which means you can expect him and Blaster to be demanding some of your time too."
Darkstalker didn't really know how to handle that sort of praise, and had she been human, would have turned a bright red. "I ... didn't think it was anything all that much or anything. Didn't expect it to matter to anybody."
She kind of wanted to go hide under a rock or something for a few days, but Prime and the command staff were waiting on her, and would probably at least be mildly annoyed if she couldn't come over something as silly as Jazz actually liking her music.
"Not used to anybody paying attention, are you?" Jolt gave her a sympathetic glance as they walked to one of the larger buildings on the strange base. The door opened when he approached, and he walked into the small entry room without hesitation.
Darkstalker shook her head. "No. Usually attention meant bad things were about to happen to me."
The first thing that struck her was the height of the place. Easily five times as tall as she was, even the doors and hallways she was led through were huge; not just tall but wide.
As they came into the building, she looked around, awestruck and feeling quite tiny. Even though she knew there were Cybertronians much larger than her, she was pretty sure there weren't any this large.
"We built with the assumption that Silverbolt, Skyfire, Grimlock and Sky Lynx would eventually come," he said without being prompted as he led her down one hallway with many doors labeled with names, ranks and positions she knew from her orientation file. "A bit of advice," he said quietly, slowing his pace as they neared their destination. "Tell the truth, try not to cower too much, and when Jazz asks you to lower your firewalls, do it. You do not want to be on the receiving end of his virus collection," he shuddered slightly in memories he'd rather not have. "Just watching the results was bad enough."
"I'll do my best, but the whole not cowering thing's gonna be a challenge," she replied. "The rest I was already planning on doing anyway."
"That's good," he nodded and paused outside one of the doors, a conference room.
"I'm nervous, Jolt ... do you think everything will be okay?"
"As long as you are what you seem, yes," he gave her a smile before palming the door control and stepped inside. "Prime," he bowed slightly to the ultimate Authority of the Autobots. "Darkstalker, as you requested."
"Thank you, Jolt," Prime responded from his position at the center of the long, slightly crescent shapede table. Flanking him, all facing her, were his top officers; Jazz, Prowl and Red Alert on his right, Ironhide, Ratchet and Silverbolt on his left.
Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were there too, flanking the door she had to walk through, their blades out and warning glares fully in place, almost begging her to screw up so they could tear into her.
Oh. Primus. Yeah, the 'not cowering' thing was gonna be real hard, she realized as she followed Jolt into the conference room. Though she wasn't quite sure what proper protocol was in showing respect to the Prime, she had to do something since he was still technically a ruler of Cybertron, and thus, herself. Taking a cue from Jolt, she simply bowed to Prime as well, just slightly deeper and slightly longer than he had held his.
Her panic rose just a bit when Jolt left and the door closed, leaving her in the center of a room full of the most powerful Authorities among the Autobots, and two of their fiercest warriors behind her.
"Darkstalker," Prime spoke when she straitened a bit, his powerful voice commanding everything within audio range. "I understand that you wish to be granted asylum. Is that still true?"
She tried to mitigate her panic by setting a metronome internally and counting the beats. It ... sort of helped, at least keeping her from going into a full panic attack.
"Yes sir, I do," she replied.
"What do you offer, in exchange for our protection and support?" his deep blue optics seemed to bore right threw her, and even her apparent benefactor in Jazz didn't seem any more friendly.
She seemed to wilt slightly at that question, taking a moment to organize her thoughts and try to find a way to make herself sound worthy of being given a chance, at least.
"I have not had the opportunity to learn valuable skills before, but what I can offer is a desire to learn, and work hard. I understand nothing in life is free, and I want to earn my keep somehow. If I could, I'd like to be allowed to study to become a medic."
If the newly appraising look Ratchet was giving her was any indication, that might have been a good choice.
"What of your knowledge of the Decepticons?" Prime asked in that deep, rumbling command voice that made you instantly understand why he was in charge.
Not scary unless he's trying to kill you, my aft, she thought to herself, though perhaps Prime wasn't so much scary as just sheer intimidating.
"I was on the Cataclysm, a small ship with ten mechs aboard." She named the mechs, and their positions on the ship, none of whom had been of any particular importance among the Decepticons. "I acknowledge that there may be occasions in my memories that I would not understand to contain relevant information, and if you wish to review them for that reason, I give my full consent."
"Jazz and Ratchet will see they are copied and reviewed," Prime inclined his head slightly to the two officers, who nodded their agreements. "Ratchet will also install a tracking beacon, as well as show you how to ping our locations and use the private comm system should you need someone. Under his request, and over the objections of Ironhide, you will be placed in my First Lieutenant's custody until further notice. That means you will not leave the quarters assigned to you without the company of a senior officer or pre-approved escort. Is that understood?"
"Yes sir, I understand," she replied, bowing to him again. She knew this was necessary, until she had enough opportunity to prove her trustworthiness, Prime had to make sure first to protect the mechs he knew. Besides, being confined to quarters unless with an approved escort didn't preclude guests coming to visit if they wished.
She stood and waited, not sure if there was anything else, as well as waiting for someone to escort her so as to not give Sunstreaker and Sideswipe a reason to attack. Jazz was the one who stepped forward for the job.
"Come on," he motioned her to follow, his manner serious but not in a way that set off her 'I'm about to get slagged' warnings. "My quarters or yours?" he asked as they passed the twins.
She followed him, and shrugged. "Doesn't really matter one way or the other to me. I wouldn't mind seeing what your quarters look like, though." It was merely curiosity, though, to see his quarters, and how, or if, it was personalized.
He nodded and led her back outside and towards another hanger-looking building that probably was modern Cybertronian construction inside. "They're next to each other, at least until you've got security clearance of your own. Prowl was going to have you bunk in our spare room until I reminded him how much of his highly classified work he brings home at night," the small silver mech snickered.
"Take it he'd rather stick me in a room of my own rather than stop bringing work home instead?" she asked good-naturedly. "I don't really mind too much, though ... I'm already imposing on you enough as is, let alone taking from your privacy with Prowl."
"Prowl, stop bring work home?" Jazz howled in laughter as they entered another building. "The Unmaker would take him first. Public wash racks are there," he motioned both right and left to the first rooms inside the building. "Since you're in officer quarters, you'll have a private one. I'd recommend using the public ones though. It'll get everybody used to seeing you around."
She noted the location of the public wash racks for future reference, but said to Jazz, "Perhaps, but since I'm not to leave my quarters without an officer or approved escort, according to Prime, I wouldn't want to bother someone just for something as trivial as going to the wash racks, especially since it's something I can take care of on my own."
"Somehow I doubt you'll have much trouble getting an escort," he chuckled softly as he led her deep into the building.
She was mildly baffled as to why he'd say that ... certainly mechs would have better/more important things to do than escort her to the washracks?
The doors they passed were all unmarked, but the layout simple enough to keep track of. "That one," he pointed to the next door down as he palmed the controls for the one they were in front of. "Will be your quarters for now. I finished modifying it yesterday.
Since Jazz was noticeably shorter than even she was, she had a good view of the entrance room, and that it was one of at least four in the simple, still sparsely decorated quarters. A few items, crystals and decorative sculpture mostly, were here and there, and a lot of book and music files on shelves and scattered everywhere.
"Come on," he reminded to her follow as he walked in and headed directly to the door on the far right.
She had been distracted by one of the sculptures, but Jazz's reminder jerked her from her reverie and she followed him into the berthroom, uncertain of what she was to do now.
"Sit," he pointed to the spot next to him on the large berth as he sat down. "Drop your firewalls," he instructed as he released a cable from his wrist.
Unless part of Ratchet's work had included additional firewalls, she didn't have much to drop. Following his instructions, she sat on the berth, dropping her firewalls for him. One thing he would find sifting through her memories, was that she had actually downplayed the abuse she'd suffered, in an attempt to keep Jazz and the other Autobots she'd at least kind of befriended from being more worried or upset than they already were.
When he plugged in, his entrance wasn't gentle. He was there on a mission, and she got her first real sense of why the playful, friendly Autobot had risen through the ranks and why he was doing this and not someone in security.
Jazz ... Spymaster ... Saboteur ... Assassin. Everything an Autobot wasn't supposed to be, and unrepentantly proud of that fact.
She had nearly thrown her firewalls back up in reflex, but managed to catch herself before she did, forcing them to stay down.
There was a simple acceptance of who he was. After all, this was a war, and surely his work had saved the lives of some of his fellow Autobots. She didn't believe she could do that sort of work, but she respected him and what he did.
~Not as many as I killed in Megatron's employ, but getting there,~ he told her as he shuffled through her processors with lightning speed, leaving no trace of his passing in his wake, beyond her sure knowledge that he'd been there. ~No, not even Ratchet can find my trail when I'm not out to leave one.~
She was taken by surprise at finding out that Jazz, one of Prime's trusted officers, had once been a 'Con. There was a flicker of curiosity, wanting to ask him about what it was like for him, why he came to the Autobots, but a restraint of 'don't want to pry.'
~I hope you find something you can use.~ she said instead, only belatedly realizing that this deep in her processors her every thought was wide open for him and he was definitely listening.
~I wasn't a 'Con, though Hide would argue that,~ he actually chuckled. ~I never gave my allegiance to him. He just paid the best and had the most interesting jobs at the time. I loved it. He rewarded me very well to do what I did best, taking mechs for a spin in my world and bringing them back in broken little pieces with a datafile of whatever I was paid to get.
~It ended when he brought me this one Autobot. I couldn't break him. I couldn't even phase him. He made my lovely spinning world slow to a stop. After ninety seven orns, Megatron ordered him destroyed, claimed that it wasn't worth the effort anymore,~ Jazz shrugged, but the tenor of his mind was a combination of fury and entitlement that refused to be denied it's prize. ~I wasn't going to give up the one thing that had ever bested me, even temporarily. Megatron wasn't going to take anything from me. So I broke him out, returned him to his kind and ... I staid. Studied him as he studied me. I won, eventually. Only instead of Megatron benefiting from my patience and skill, Prime did.~
When she realized he could read her every thought, she felt embarrassed, and a sense of should-have-known-better.
~Prowl?~ she guessed as to who the mech of the story was. It seemed like a likely conclusion, given what she'd heard and read about him. ~And what did you consider 'winning'?~
~Yes,~ Jazz all but purred as he continued to slide through her mind with ease. ~He surrendered. He's mine.~ Though possessive, there was undeniable affection, fierce protectiveness and absolute respect for his bonded there too. ~Though to hear him tell it, I'm the one that surrendered,~ he added with real amusement at the thought and the description of him. ~Since I'm not just an Autobot, but an architect of much of the resent war.~
It seemed like that was a sort of reasonable comparison, since certainly Jazz's change to using his talents to help the Autobots had been quite a change in how the war was going.
She felt a brief glimmer of hope that one day she could find someone for her, like Jazz had Prowl, and Jolt had Sideswipe, and such ... but she doubted it would happen. She would be content, if not entirely happy if she could just find a place to belong and be useful here.
~You are entirely too young to be that jaded,~ Jazz chided her gently. ~I knew The Thirteen, and it wasn't until half way through this war that I found him. Back then, it was common belief that Primus gave each spark a mate, and they would continue to be reborn until they found each other. By Guardian Prime, I thought that was just another bit of religious nonsense.~
She had a sense that he felt he had been wrong, and was grateful for it, even if he'd never even think the words.
~Would be something I wouldn't mind getting proven wrong on ... but if I plan for the worst, anything else is a pleasant surprise.~
She shifted, laying to curl on her side on the berth, careful not to accidentally dislodge the cable connected to her. A gentle melody seemed to just insert itself into her mind, that didn't seem to come from Jazz either. Wherever it came from, whether just inspiration or from Primus himself, though, it helpede soothe her.
She felt him pick up on it and carry it, weaving an impossibly long lifetime of experience into crafting the little tune into something that lulled her into recharge, all the while showing her what he was doing with it. She purred softly, a sense of seeking permission to fall into recharge, as she fought off recharge until she either had permission or got into her own room. As well, there was an underlying childlike desire to cuddle with somebody.
Jazz caressed her mind and silently gave the permission as he pulled her close and indulged in the desire to snuggle. As he continued to work through her recharging processors and memory banks, the physical damage those containing her earlier vorns forced him to turn his attention to her programming and any hidden protocols or code she might have.
Thankfully, for the same reason she'd not had her adult upgrades until now, she didn't have any sort of hidden malicious protocols or code. She snuggled against him as she fell into a relaxed recharge, feeling safe for the first time in vorns.