Fandom: Transformers Bayverse/World of Darkness
Pairing: Jazz/Prowl
Rating: PG-13
Codes: Supernatural, Slash, Cybertronian Reproduction
Summary: When Tangrlo lands, there is the expected excitement, but it's what happens when Thera corners Jazz alone that sets the feel for the entire visit.
Walking with Glass 3: Howle Island Touchdown
"Just follow the black and white car with the lights," Thera told Ratchet as she let go of his grill after touchdown and walked towards the edge of the cargo bay door where she'd be readily visible when it opened. "Security will show you to lab three where Blurr is," she pronounced his name in respectably good Cybertronian. "If you need anything, ask for it. We'll provide or make a run to your base for it. Sunstreaker, Sideswipe," again the names were in Cybertronian as she looked at the silver and gold pair revving their engines, "stay close to Ratchet, please. If you want to stretch out, just let me know first."
"All right," Sideswipe agreed, if somewhat reluctantly. "Does that mean Hatchet can't kick us out?"
The Hummer rumbled a warning to the pair before she could answer.
"He can do anything he pleases," Thera chuckled. "Just let me know before you go far."
::That means before you go more than five lengths from the lab in any direction,:: Jazz clarified firmly.
"Got it," Sunstreaker responded more to Jazz than her as they felt the rolling stop end.
Ratchet was already rolling forward when the ramp touched tarmac, giving those inside their first view inside, and the mechs visual confirmation of what their sensors told them.
Four vehicles, all highly advanced and heavily armored for Earth but not Cybertronian drone advanced, three humans near the ramp and a significant crowd of three score beyond them.
One of the vehicles moved, it's police lights flashing.
"Ratchet, follow us!" The passenger leaned out the window and shouted in English.
Thera held very still as the neon yellow rescue Hummer rumbled passed, followed by two 2018 Lamborghini Murciélago prototypes. A second security vehicle, it's lights also flashing, pulled out to bring up the rear as they raced out of sight.
Thera looked back towards the silver Porsche prototype and the white 2015 Lancia Delta with red and green racing stripes and motioned them forward.
::Ya think they're excited to see us?:: Jazz couldn't help the amazement that mixed into his tight-beam transmission to Wheeljack as they rolled out of the C-17 and into the warm summer light of the northern equatorial zone and got an optic full of the gathering.
::Not a trace of fear,:: Wheeljack added with a bit of surprise after they transformed.
::Yeah, nice change,:: he agreed as they walked up to the dignitaries. ::Ya feel that?::
::Yes, though I can't trace it. Medical scan, or an engineering one.:: Wheeljack agreed.
"Jazz, Wheeljack, the leaders of Howle Island," Thera spoke politely and with evident pride.
The tanned, dark-haired female stepped forward first, her attention primarily on Jazz, though she addressed them both in impeccable Cybertronian except for the local names, which came out in English. "Welcome to Howle Island Jazz and Wheeljack of the Autobots. I am Suncrest WyFy, the Head of Research and Development and this facility."
::I don't think she knows what she's saying,:: Jazz commented privately to Wheeljack.
"Psitrek, our lead tactician," she continued in careful Cybertronian as she motioned to her left to a blond, dark-skinned Hispanic male of medium build with the most out-of-place piercing blue eyes and a relaxed, friendly manner. "Terry MacLoud is our Chief of Security," he motioned to the muscular Native American, his long raven-black hair pulled into a ponytail, a light tan suit designed for mobility and dark shades hiding his eyes. "You are our guests. If there is anything you wish, ask Thera," she motioned to the diplomat, "or myself."
::I gave her the translation,:: Thera's voice came over both their comms. ::English would be most appreciated when you reply.::
::Understood,:: both mechs responded on the same frequency.
"It is our pleasure to be here, Suncrest WyFy," Jazz kept his accent and use of slang under tight control and bowed politely to her and the two males. "We are grateful that you contacted us about our kin and allowed this visit."
"Kin is very important, especially for a race with few members," Suncrest smiled warmly at him. "Please come, Thera and I will show you to the guest quarters we prepared for you."
::Do not hesitate to tell me about modifications you wish. They had less than three hours to set it up,:: Thera added silently.
::We will,:: Jazz promised, mostly to make her feel better. He was quite sure, even on such short notice, that the accommodations would be acceptable for a few days.
~You weren't carrying those times,~ Prowl's spark was suddenly brushing against his with moderate concern.
~Love, I doubt I'll be here for more than a couple orn, three tops,~ he reminded his bonded as he got more and more curious what was bothering him so much. ~Ratchet was fine with me coming, it can't be that dangerous for either of us.~
~I know,~ Prowl sighed softly with an emotional wave of apology and adoration. It was something Jazz had learned to understand long ago: Prowl's emotions had overridden everything and the mech had little enough experience with them than he didn't know how to moderate them yet.
Jazz only paid half attention through the short tour of their quarters - one room for all five of them, but with berths for six - and the facilities. It was only after Suncrest had excused herself and Wheeljack had gone to investigate their quarters a bit better that he realized that Thera hadn't stopped staring at him the entire time.
"Are you sure you are all right?" she asked him quietly, clearly intending to keep it between them.
"Very sure," Jazz assured her, only to see her concern turn to a confused frown. "Why?" he prompted, hoping she'd explain whatever she thought she saw.
"You have a parasite attached to your spirit," she tried to find the right words even as she tapped her chest to indicate where his spark was. "There is a relatively small creature feeding off your life-energy."
He could only stare at her for a long, shocked moment before his processors kicked into gear when Prowl nudged at his spark in concern.
"Thank you for your concern, but that is not a parasite. It is very much wanted," he assured her and his bonded at the same time.
"Will you tell me what it is then? None of the others have one," she looked at him curiously and he felt the tingle of energy ghost over his frame. Not strong enough to be rude, but enough he noticed it.
"That," he hesitated, only to feel a pulse of support from Prowl. "Is one of those things we try not to talk about too early on, like your mystic stuff. I will trust you to take it well," he offered her a vote of confidence that she smiled encouragingly at. "That second life is a new spark, what you would call an unborn child."
It was Thera's turn to blink and scramble to organize her thoughts. It only took a few seconds for her demeanor to shift from that to delighted excitement. "Parthenogenesis or with a partner?" she asked eagerly, delight pouring off her in waves he could feel wash over him.
"With my bonded," Jazz smiled down at her, relieved more than he'd ever admit as he sat down to be more on optic level with her. "You don't seem too shocked."
A brilliant smile looked up at him. "Any spirit can make a new spirit, whether it's in a body or not. Do Ratchet and your bonded know?"
"Yes," Jazz's smile softened a bit in memory of that moment.
"So how long before you deliver?" Thera asked, all but bubbling in excitement. Her well-trained diplomatic manner fading at the joyful news.
"If our timekeeping conversions are correct, approximately one hundred and sixty three local years," he said, causing her to blink in surprise. "That is only two vorn, the local year, on our homeworld."
"How long have you been carrying already?" she asked, trying not to think about being pregnant that long, even if she had the millions of years these beings did.
"Three local years, half a metacycle," Jazz supplied, watching her think through the math. "The body does not form inside me, only the spark," he added, sure that was her next question given how earth species reproduced.
Thera nodded, thoughtful and happy. "I'm still surprised they let you come. It can't be easy on your bonded."
"No, it isn't," he admitted, sending another assurance of his health and safety over the bond as she watched, thought and gently probed with whatever her kind used to do such things. It didn't really feel like technology, but it didn't not feel like it either.
"Would you like me to explain that it is simply a peculiarity, something you know about and not to worry about it?" she offered.
It didn't take any of his thousands of vorns of experience to know, without a single doubt, that covering up his condition was about the last thing she wanted to do, but she would do it if he asked her to.
He thought about it, really thought, his bond wide open so he knew that Prowl was thinking too. He waited quietly for the tactician to make his recommendations.
~Don't over it up,~ Prowl eventually told him. ~There is a ninety-two percent probability that this will garner a favorable response in general. There is a sixty-nine percent probability that you will receive preferential treatment from them.~
~Going with the odds then,~ Jazz grinned and wrapped the other spark in a blanket of affection before meeting Thera's gaze. "No, Prowl agrees. If it comes up, we tell the truth, just like I told you now."
He watched in amused appreciation of the universal joy of new life that lit up her face.
"Just don't be surprised if you find yourself on the receiving end of a baby shower, a century and a half early or not," she grinned. "New life is still a big deal for us, especially when it's a rare new life."
Jazz chuckled at her exuberance; so different from the diplomat persona she displayed most of the time. He suspected this was closer to her real self, this open excitement from one of offspring-bearing potential to one who was actually carrying. "I'm not making a secret, but I'm not making a big deal either," he cautioned her. "Too much excitement over this could make Prime change his mind about letting me off base until I'm not carrying anymore."
"That would be a shame," she nodded, still excited but muting it out of respect for the potential consequences. "Still, perhaps a small celebration in a couple days would be accepted?"
"I'm sure I can swing that," he didn't hide his grin. "I am well-known as a party mech after all."
"Good," Thera grinned back before her professional persona slid into place. "I will see about clearing a NEST transport crew so your bonded can join if he wishes," she paused and considered him. "Is it appropriate to use gender designations for your kind?"
"We do not have gender the way you understand it, so it is not inherent in our language to describe ourselves. However it is far easier to interact as people with a sexually dimorphic species if we identify as such," he explained far more than they usually did, but he was speaking with someone who clearly understood far more than most and craved to know more.
Thera nodded thoughtfully. "Can all members of your kind carry new life?"
Jazz smiled, relaxing into the conversation. "Technically, yes. Which bonded will carry can be difficult to determine. However it will generally be the larger, more heavily armored one to better protect the new spark."
"Which makes you being a carrier even more of a surprise," she said with just enough question in her tone to invite a correction.
"A very, very big surprise," Jazz chuckled. "Prowl's always been the carrier before, and he is none too happy that I am this time. He's far too good at calculating the odds of something going horribly wrong, and anything above absolute zero sends him into fits."
It earned an amused chuckle from his companion. "I get the same reaction when I refuse to stop doing my job just because I'm pregnant. It's only nine months for us, but if the pups aren't at risk I see no reason to hole up in a den. I'd be wary of going to a front line battle, but that's not what either of us specialize as."
"Exactly," Jazz grinned, delighted at having his feelings expressed in such a different way. "How many young do you have?" he asked, eager to learn more about her and the parts of culture that were often difficult to learn about.
"Five in three pregnancies," she smiled warmly thinking about them. "My second bred true and is shaping up to be a fine Ahroun alpha. The first a fine hacker and monkeywrencher. My two youngest are strong lupus and have bred well."
Jazz cocked his head and watched her watch him try and work out what she'd just said.
"Okay," he began a bit slowly. "I believe I understood the words, however that does rate an explanation anyway."
"Bête can breed with humans and their animal type," she gave the simple explanation. "My first two children were with a human, the third pregnancy produced two pups with a wolf. To bred true means to be a shapeshifter like I am."
"Then not all your children are like you?" he raised an optic ridge behind his visor.
"No, it's a highly recessive gene," she shook her head slightly. "They could have children that are Garou, even if they are not."
"Fascinating," Jazz murmured as he tried to make that work with his knowledge of genetics. "Are the odds better if you mate with another Garou?"
He tried not to react when she jerked and shuddered before collecting herself.
"Yes, it does produce a Garou," she said quietly. "It also produces a sterile pup with severe disabilities. They're called metis and are thankfully rare these days thanks to contraceptives, even among those who take another Garou as a lover."
"Which, I would surmise, is still strongly frowned upon," Jazz followed the social logic.
"Very strongly," she inclined her head. "Some tribes are more tolerant than others, but they are always creatures to pity."
He resisted the urge to offer help. He was sure Cybertronian technology could cure any affliction inbreeding could cause. They weren't at that level of alliance yet, so he nodded in understanding. "Such are the hazards of sexual reproduction," he said instead.
"Too true," she agreed. "Are any of your children on Earth?" she asked with polite curiosity.
"No," Jazz spoke softly as old pain rose up to swallow him briefly. "No, Riot and Whisper were both casualties of the war."
"I'm sorry," Thera said honestly before falling silent to allow him to grieve and recover with his bonded.
