Many Shades of Black
Chapter 3
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers; I'm just prostituting it for my amusement.
Summary: Jazz finds an Enforcer in the ruins of Praxus. Even though Enforcers are the lackeys of Megatron he stays with the mech so that he won't deactivate alone. Except the mech doesn't die.
Warning: M/M robot smut, war
Pairings: Jazz/ Prowl
Klik: One Minute, 1.2 minutes
Joor: One Hour, not giving it a specific length, suffice it to say that Cybertron does not share the same orbit or rotation as Earth, an hour, a day would be different lengths from ours
Mega-cycle: One Day, 93 hours/ joors
Orn: One Week, 13 mega-cycles
Quartex: One Month, 4 orns
Stellar Cycle: One Year, 7.5 quartexes
Vorn: Length of Sparklinghood and Younglinghood: 83 stellar cycles.
"How is the patient?" Optimus asked as Ratchet led him into his office. Ratchet was not officially an Autobot but he was good friends with Prime.
"Stable," Ratchet replied. "Recharging most of the time, it's a reaction to the medical programs. I've never treated a mech with such advanced systems. They physically clash with his personality sub-routines. He can't act on a whim. This comes more from Smokescreen than Prowl, but he runs scenarios through his battle computer, which is tied to his obscenely advanced logic processor, and then acts on the results his battle computer spits out. He thinks, over thinks about everything, and he isn't capable of doing otherwise. His repairs are holding and integrating well and his sensors are settling. I've started weening him off some of the medical programs. He doesn't complain, but I don't believe he enjoys the way they affect his processor. He's not ready to be off the programs all together but it's a start."
"Jazz is in your waiting room," Optimus observed. He filed a note in his processor. Prowl was a ready made tactician. That could be very useful if he decided to enlist with the Autobots.
"He's been camping out here since we got back," Ratchet explained. "He only leaves to meet with you or go out on missions."
"Jazz can be obsessive," Optimus commented.
"Yeah," Ratchet agreed. "But Prowl hasn't complained about him so I'm not interfering. Jazz saw some terrible things in Praxus. It's not unexpected that he would latch on to a survivor."
"Can I speak with him?'' Optimus asked.
"Sure," Ratchet replied. "I know I can trust you not to stress him out. I'm keeping my favourite wrench handy at all times."
"Of course," Optimus replied. Ratchet stepped away from his desk and led Optimus to Prowl's room. He stepped into the doorway, blocking Optimus for the moment.
"You have a guest," Ratchet announced to his patient.
"That's fine," Prowl replied. His voice was even to Optimus's audios. A rich voice but one without obvious personality. Every Enforcer Optimus had encountered had monotone, emotionless voices. Prowl's did not seem all that different.
"Thank you," Optimus said as he entered the room. Ratchet closed the door behind him. The angle of the berth supported Prowl in a sitting position. Mechanical arms held the Praxian's doorwings. The wings looked jagged and stiff. But Ratchet had warned him earlier that the joints of Prowl's doorwings were still not strong enough to allow Prowl to sit without them being supported.
"I am Optimus Prime."
"I know who you are," Prowl replied, his tone, and his expression unchanged. "I would show you appropriate deference but Ratchet has me restrained."
"Please, don't concern yourself with that. I don't put much stock in ceremony," Optimus asked. "How are you feeling."
"Stronger than I have been," Prowl replied. "What can I do for you, Prime?"
"I've been told you have the makings of a tactician," Optimus explained. "Please, feel free to say no. You are under no obligation to agree to what I am asking. Would you be willing to work with one of my officers in building strategies to counter the Decepticons."
Optimus had to admit he was surprised at how quickly Prowl answered. Ratchet had just said that Prowl never acted on a whim.
"Yes, of course," was Prowl's immediate response. Optimus chuckled low.
"I must admit I'm surprised at how quickly you answered," Optimus replied. "Both Smokescreen and Ratchet told me that you always run your options through your battle computer to come to the best course of action."
"Sometimes there is only one viable option," Prowl replied, inclining his head slightly.
"Of course, you're right," Optimus said. "When do you believe you will be willing to start working?"
"As soon as Ratchet allows it," Prowl replied. "I can strategize without leaving this berth."
"Thank you, Prowl," Optimus said. He wanted to express his condolences for what had happened to Praxus. But words failed him. Prowl was difficult to read and Optimus did not want to say anything that would upset him. "I'll leave you in peace. Would it be acceptable to bring the officer around tomorrow."
"Certainly," Prowl replied. Considering who he was speaking to and the fact that he was about to start working specifically for Prime he bowed his head slightly and added: "sir."
"Excellent," Optimus said, Prowl's faceplates never changed expression, not even his optics changed. The anger Optimus assumed compelled him to help the Autobots was not evident on any part of his frame. He would have to be careful to pick the right officer to work with Prowl. Too many mechs or femmes would take Prowl's mannerisms and lack thereof as a lack of a spark. Those 'Bots would never take what he strategized seriously. Well, it was a good thing that Optimus had a few officers to choose from.
"I'll leave you be before Ratchet chases me out," Optimus stated after a moment. "I'll see you tomorrow. It's good to finally meet you, Prowl."
"Thank you, sir," Prowl replied. Optimus did not wear a mask of indifference that Prowl did. He was easily read. It was some what comforting to know that the Prime was genuinely sincere. Enforcer training had taught Prowl how to detect falsehoods. Certainly, Optimus was cautious as he spoke to him but was truthful. That was enough to make him trustworthy, at least for now. His logic computer pondered what it would have meant for Cybertron's future if this Prime had been selected to replace Sentinel Prime vorns earlier.
"Recharge well," Optimus said and he left Prowl alone. The mech was an enigma. Optimus needed to read his people and know that he could trust them. It would take time to learn how to read Prowl, possibly time he didn't have. But the Decepticons had the Autobots at a huge disadvantage, especially now with the loss of Praxus and the neutral mechs and femmes that had inhabited it. Praxus had not taken a side in the civil war. But there had been a chance, a real chance that when the time came for them to choose, they would have chosen the Autobots. Optimus assumed this was the motivation behind its destruction but he could not be certain. Once upon a time he had been able to read and predict Megatron's every move, now. Now, Megatron was a stranger.
"Ratchet," Optimus called to his old friend as he knocked on the medic's office door.
Jazz peered out from the treatment room where he had set up camp for the extent of Prowl's treatment. Ratchet had chased Smokescreen and Bluestreak out of his clinic only two mega-cycles before. It was for Bluestreak's good, according to Ratchet. The youngling needed a return to stability and he had a better chance of that staying in Smokescreen's apartment with his adoptive uncle rather than staying in the clinic until Prowl recovered enough to leave. Nothing about Jazz's lifestyle was stable and he wasn't hurting anyone by hanging around the clinic. To keep himself from being exiled, he made himself useful to Ratchet, running any errands he wanted done. And he had stayed true to his duties as an Autobot officer by attending meetings and sending his mechs and femmes off on espionage runs as they tried to gather information on the 'Cons. Unfortunately, Jazz had attempted to eavesdrop at Ratchet's door before and found the old medic had soundproofed his office. Slag, he wanted to know what Optimus and Ratchet were talking about. It had to be about Prowl and Jazz wanted to know.
Ratchet let Optimus into his office and handed him a cube before sitting down in the chair behind his desk. Optimus sat, without needing to be invited to, in the chair across from Ratchet. He drank the cube. Of course Ratchet had noticed he was tired. Ironhide had been tied up with training the new recruits for the better part of the day. In fact, Optimus had failed to mention to Ironhide that he was leaving the Palace of the Primes to visit Ratchet and his patient. Stubborn and devoted to his Prime, Ironhide would have cancelled the training to guard Optimus as he travelled through Iacon. There was no single responsibility Ironhide clung to more than that of Optimus's bodyguard. But the new recruits needed to be diligently trained if they were going to stand any hope of surviving the war.
"Prowl's agreed to work with one of my officers as a strategist," Optimus announced. "I'd like to bring whichever officer I choose to meet with him tomorrow."
"Fine," Ratchet replied. "My clinic slows down at around the fiftieth joor. Bring them over then and plan the meetings for the evening."
"Of course," Optimus agreed.
"Any idea who you're going to have work with him?" Ratchet asked. "
"I'd like to pair him up with Intrigue but that would be a hopeless endeavour," Optimus said. "Possibly Jazz. He, at least, seems to get along with Prowl. And the Special Ops could use another strategist."
"But you'd like him strategizing for the army, not just for the spies," Ratchet finished Optimus's thought. "I get it. But if none of your commanders can get past his being an Enforcer and his demeanour, he'll have a better chance of doing you some good with the Special Ops."
"Precisely," Optimus replied. "I'd set him up with Elita 1 but she and her troops gather the information that I hope he can build strategies from. It wouldn't be the ideal place for him. I believe he would work with Jazz. But I am hoping I can convince Shockwave to work with him."
"Your TIC is almost as hard helmed as you SIC," Ratchet grumbled. "Press upon him that this mech is brilliant. His brother is an Autobot. We've all heard the rumours that the Enforcers were reprogrammed. Given how Prowl carries himself, in all likelihood they just missed reprogramming him because he already acts so aloof."
"Can you run a scan of his programs and check for evidence of reprogramming?" Optimus asked.
"I already have," Ratchet said with a snort. "And his processor is clean. Other than conflicts with his logic processor and battle computer, everything is perfectly unblemished. Alright, that's not entirely true but there is no evidence of reprogramming."
"Anything I need to worry about," Optimus asked.
"I'd rather let Prowl tell you himself if he feels the need," Ratchet replied. "But you have it on my lofty medical authority that Prowl was not reprogrammed. Besides, don't you think Smokescreen would have noticed? The mech has his own quirks but he's well trained and he would notice if his brother had been reprogrammed."
"You're right there," Optimus replied. He was about to say more when his comm crackled, warning him of an incoming call.
"Optimus?" Ironhide's gruff voice came over the calm. It was not a snarl, or a shout. Ironhide respected protocol just enough to never yell at Optimus. Unless, that is he had done something incredibly stupid. His accent was especially evident now. "Where are you?"
"Ratchet's," Optimus replied. Ratchet smirked. Ironhide was worse than a nagging femme when it came to Optimus.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Ironhide asked. His voice was just a little less gruff. Ratchet's office was not so far from the Palace. He was safe enough. "I would've cancelled the rest of the session."
"Those mechs need to be trained," Optimus replied. "And there is no mech better to train them than you."
"Stay there, and I'll come and escort you back to the Palace," Ironhide grumbled. He had been a Weapons Officer in Prime's own army. It had been one of his responsibility to train the recruits of his battalion. That had been exactly what he had been doing when Prime had picked him from the ranks to be his personal bodyguard. Ironhide knew that Optimus had done this in large part to make a point to Intrigue and his council that senior officers were the only mechs of use in the army and that soldiers were more than canon fodder. Generally, Ironhide didn't complain. It was an honour to protect his Prime and he took the honour to spark.
"I'll be happy to drive back with you," Optimus replied. He chuckled at Ratchet's smirk once he disconnected the call. "Jazz will be coming back with us. I'm calling an officers meeting."
"You picked the perfect mech to be your bodyguard," Ratchet noted. "He isn't cowed by your rank."
"I have to admit I picked him expecting to be able to order him to give me a wide berth," Optimus said. "A common soldier, I expected him to be in awe at my rank and inclined to obey. Ironhide proved me wrong almost immediately. He does his best to attend to my every need."
"He's a good mech," Ratchet agreed.
Ironhide arrived within the joor and the three mechs drove back to the Palace with Ironhide almost glued to Optimus's side. Jazz kept his chuckle to himself. That's what Prime got for trying to out manoeuvre Ironhide. The senior officers, all aside from Jazz, were waiting in the War room when Optimus and Jazz arrived. Prime stood in the place of honour at the table, his SIC and his TIC standing to his left and right. Jazz stood next to Shockwave. He hated the mech. There was something about him that screamed deceit and Jazz stood next to him in no small part as a way to keep this enemy close. Elita 1 stood next to the Intrigue, She smiled as Jazz took his place at the table. Not even meetings were safe, at least not to Ironhide, and he stood in front of the door, keeping an optic on the whole room.
"I've recruited a new strategist from the survivors of Praxus," Optimus announced, starting the meeting off quickly.
"Indeed?" Intrigue replied. "Our final reports have concluded there were only three-hundred and sixty eight survivors. It's remarkable that a mech or femme of such skill survived."
"Jazz found him," Optimus explained. The mood of the room fell immediately. Every officer had heard of the Enforcer's survival. Intrigue visibly bristled. Elita 1 raised optic ridges at Jazz, who smiled serenely back. "His designation is Prowl and he is equipped with the most advanced battle computer and logic processor Ratchet has ever seen. He has the tools to be a powerful weapon against the Decepticons."
"The Enforcers are Megatron's, Lord Prime," Intrigue said, he kept his tone subservient. "Those that may not have been corrupted to begin with were reprogrammed."
"Ratchet assures me that Prowl has not been reprogrammed," Optimus replied. "Ratchet is one of, if not the best medic in all of Cybertron. I trust his diagnosis."
"My Lord Prime, he may not have needed to be reprogrammed," Intrigue suggested.
"Smokescreen's an Autobot," Jazz said, passion in his voice but carefully controlled. "No one has questioned his loyalties. He's Prowl's older brother. Wouldn't he know if Prowl was that sort of mech? He's a psychiatrist for Primus's sake."
"Officer Jazz," Intrigue said no more but his promised a further reprimand later.
"Jazz is correct, Intrigue," Optimus halted any reprimand or further argument. "Smokescreen has fought in battles and acted as a field medic when our need was so great we were putting medics into the fray. He vouches for his brother and having personally met with Prowl, I vouch for him as well."
There was nothing Intrigue could say to that. Optimus had made up his mind. An Enforcer was an Enforcer. Mechs and femmes did not change their programming, and they should not rise above their station. He offered Jazz a thinly veiled glare, and he would have dealt Ironhide one as well but the common soldier playing at being a bodyguard was out of his line of sight. You did not rise above your station. This was the reason Intrigue had not joined Megatron. The High Lord Protector was trying to rise above his station and that was not acceptable.
"I would be open to working with the tactician," Shockwave offered. It was Jazz's turn to bristle. "This war has gone on so long, a fresh pair of optics would do some good."
"My mechs are dying," Jazz said, thinking quickly. "We get a lot of data from Elita 1 and her agents but it's hard to weed out the false information from the real intelligence. Even with all that, we're going into 'Con held cities and getting slagged trying to get more intel and hostages out. I think Prowl could really help me improve the strategies I'm going up with so I, we, lose fewer mechs."
That is a good point, Jazz," Optimus replied. "Until the Decepticons move again, battle plans are more hypothetical than anything else. Still, Prowl's tactical abilities could prove to be of significant benefit to the army. Shockwave, I want you work with Prowl to build new troop deployment tactics. Jazz, I want you to work with Prowlto build your mission plans."
"Yes, sir," Jazz said. He would have felt better if Shockwave went nowhere near Prowl, but until he had evidence to back up his hunch, he would say nothing to Prime. A small smile passed over Jazz's faceplates. Unless he was on a mission, he was staying at the clinic. If Shockwave tried anything he would stop it.
"As you will, My Lord," Shockwave replied.
"Ratchet has ordered that no session go more than an hour without a break," Optimus said. "I can't have you, Shockwave, away from the Palace for hours at a time. Your sessions, as they are still only covering theoretical battles, will only go for an hour. Jazz, I trust Ratchet to limit your sessions as he sees fit."
"Yes sir," Jazz replied. That was perfect. One hour limited Shockwave's time with Prowl. Jazz didn't know what he thought the TIC would try with Prowl but was ready to assume the worst.
"As you will, My Lord," Shockwave intoned. Jazz couldn't even read his slagging faceplates. The cyclops had a featureless face. His voice had a perfect, classical lilt. He was from an old family in Tarns, and had been the military commander there before the city's destruction. Naturally, he had attended the War Academy there and he knew exactly what to say and how to say it. Shockwave was fake, never making a mistake or speaking in any manner less than perfect to Prime. Jazz saw him as fake, though he suspected he was the only one who did.
End Chapter 3.
A/N An early update. Haven't written much of the fifth chapter, but the forth one is finished so there will still be an update in one week. I crazy reviews. They are like sugar to me.
I'm sure I've said that before. Working on Ring Around the Rosie and then I'll hopefully get back to work on this fic and Crack in the Pavement. Happy Canada Day and Fourth of July my American and Canadian readers. Happy Summer and Winter to my Northern and Southern hemisphere readers.