Author's Notes: Right. I don't think I should give anything away for this one.

Many thanks to creepy-wolf for reviewing, and to all those who have added this story to your Favourites and Alerts! Hope you guys will enjoy this next chapter.

I do not own Transformers.

Connections

Chapter 4

Manual. The machine was manually operated. Jammer lied about the transmission. He knew about the completed weapon.

Swift ran the information over and over in her processor as she ran after Bluestreak and Jazz, who were chasing Jammer. The three of them broke away from the main forces and headed deeper into the ruins of the Decepticon base. Optimus, Elita and Chromia were unaware of their absence as they directed their troops away from the machine, on which the bombs that Wheeljack had planted detonated once they were far enough.

Megatron roared in anger as his targeting system was destroyed, but not before firing one last beam of energy into the sky. The Decepticon Lord ordered his troops to retreat and transformed into his jet mode before fleeing the area.

Due to the simultaneous destruction and activation of the machine, the beam that was fired became unstable. It wavered slightly, the tall column of purple energy seemingly on the verge of collapse, before breaking and scattering, sending bolts of energy streaking in all directions, creating a deadly shower.

Even as they tried to escape, several Decepticon soldiers and flyers were struck by them and fell to the ground. The Autobots were not entirely spared either. As they hurried towards shelter, a few were hit as well. Skydive's left wing broke off as he shoved Fireflight away and Arcee was carried back by Powerglide, the femme's legs sparking and charred. Thankfully, all of them were able to make it under the force field created by Trailbreaker and Wheeljack, where they were forced to wait out the rain of energy.

Taking stock of their situation, it was Chromia who realised they were missing four of their own. With the Head of Communications being one of them, Blaster was in charge of locating them.

Neither their comm. links were answered nor their spark signatures picked up.

Jazz cried out to Jammer both verbally and through the bond, but received no response from him. Bluestreak was keeping up with him on his left, looking sympathetic. Jazz turned to him, faceplates filled with worry and confusion as he tried to understand what was happening. Nudging the bond, however, he discovered that he could not feel any emotions or thoughts from his youngling.

His head snapped to the right as a black and silver blur appeared. Tilting his head to the side questioningly, he was unable to get any response or answer from the expressionless femme either.

: Blue, shoot to disable. I need to get close to him. : Swift ordered.

A trickle of worry and uneasiness came through from Bluestreak's side of the bond, but he obeyed. To Jazz's shock, he lifted his rifle and aimed at the fleeing mech in front, his arms steady from experience and digits not hesitating as they pulled the trigger. Swift's hand flew out to grab Jazz's arm as he reacted, preventing him from knocking the shot astray.

Jammer cried out as his ankle joints were shot, causing him to fall to the ground, unable to run. Pushing himself up, he turned to face his pursuers and was greeted with the barrel of Swift's gun shoved at his faceplates as the femme growled at him.

"Swift, whaddya doin'?!" cried Jazz, trying to break out of Bluestreak's hold, the gunner restraining his parent as he tried to save his bondmate.

She remained silent, but her faceplates twisted into a scowl as she tightened her grip on the gun. Jammer smirked.

"What's wrong, femme? No bolts to pull the trigger?" he taunted.

"Don't tempt me," she hissed dangerously.

"No? Or maybe it's because you know what might happen if you kill me. You wouldn't want to be the one to send your beloved Jazz to the Matrix, would you?" he challenged, looking at her straight in the optics, the knowing smirk still plastered on.

Silence. Even Jazz had stopped struggling, his expression one of puzzlement as he tried to comprehend the situation.

"Perhaps it's the nostalgia. Too many bad memories maybe? I'm sure you remember this place… Prowl."

Her emotional centre suppressed her feelings, but Swift unconsciously began to tremble slightly, the gun shaking in her hand. Memories of her reformatting surfaced, the sheer torture that had taken place in the very place they were standing in, now in ruins just like the rest of the base. Charred berths, rusted tools, melted scraps of spare parts littered the area…

… two black and white doorwings lay discarded in the corner, the edges where they were brutally torn off stained with fresh energon dripping down slowly over the sensory panels. As the procedure continued, more black and white armour was added to the growing pile, all sporting the same fresh stains which pooled at the bottom.

Pain-filled screams echoed throughout the room, followed frequently by loud pounding noises and the smooth whirr of saws. Prowl struggled furiously, his neck, arms, wrists, waist and legs strapped down tightly to the berth. He was bleeding excessively, the energon lost from his systems practically dripping over the edge of the berth in a steady stream.

A hard fist crashed into his face, snapping it to the side. His chestplates were forced open by rough hands which reached for his spark casing with a syringe filled with a dark green liquid, the needle moving closer and closer to –

"Prowl?" Jazz's voice snapped her out of the nightmares that had threatened to swallow her during countless recharge-deprived cycles. Bluestreak had released his hold on him, the saboteur frozen in shock.

Again, she did not answer. The only movement that showed she acknowledged his question was the slight turn of her head as she looked away.

Jammer laughed mockingly. "Yes, my dear Jazz. That is Prowl you're looking at, only… he looks a little different, doesn't he?"

"Mute it!" snarled Swift, cocking her gun. "I ought to kill you for what you did to me, to my family!"

"Then why haven't you done so already? Waiting for reinforcements to arrive?" he sneered. "They won't come. I've set up a field that prevents us from being detected."

"How did you know about the completed targeting system?" she demanded.

"And why would you want to know?" he shot back smoothly without missing a beat. "It doesn't really matter, that knowledge allowed me to save all your hides. But since you're so curious…"

He smirked. "As a fellow communications officer, Soundwave should really make sure that information is not leaked to the other side when making transmissions. I guess he didn't think about it when I contacted him, because I saw the weapon in the background right behind him. Of course, I didn't know what it was at first, but after Elita showed us the blueprints and all… well, you know the rest."

"J-Jammer… is it true?" That came from Jazz. He had retracted his visor, revealing wide blue optics as he stared at the mech in question. Bluestreak looked back and forth worriedly between him and the two, optics finally settling on Swift.

: I'm sorry! He wanted to know and I think he knew that I knew because he kept asking me what had happened, and – and – : The gunner apologised profusely through the bond as Swift felt a wave of regret washing over him.

: It's okay, sweetspark. It's all right… : she replied soothingly, her expression softening.

"I hoped that you would never have to find out, Jazz," Jammer said regretfully. "You and I were perfect together. Someone like that cold, sparkless glitched tactician does not deserve you, especially as a bondmate who –"

"– like you, is a fragging traitor and does not deserve to call himself an Autobot," Swift interrupted scathingly, before hauling him up and slamming him back into the ground.

: Blue, get over here and hold him down. : She did not even try to dampen the anger that now freely coursed through their bond.

The gunner flinched slightly at the harsh demand, but left the still shocked Jazz and moved to do so. After the struggling Jammer was secured and immobilised, Swift practically tore his chestplates apart.

"W-what are you doing?!" he spluttered, thrashing furiously to escape from Bluestreak's hold.

"Letting you have a small taste of what you put me through," she shot back hotly, removing several medical tools from her subspace. Jammer realised with growing dread what Swift intended to do. He had suggested it to Soundwave himself, it was something that would give him a sense of pleasure and satisfaction if it had been done, no matter how painfully or crudely.

Breaking the bond.

With the proper tools and procedure, the feat was possible. He was the Head of Communications, and was able to attain that position through his past experience and work. It was to be noted that sending feelings and thoughts through a bond, be it between bondmates or family members, was still communication.

It was a curious thing, the bond. Although his expertise was in the field of signals and transmissions, he was fascinated by the extraordinary connection that bonds provide, the reason why one bondmate rarely survives after the death of the other, how the strength and will of the spark affect bonds, how they are controlled, manipulated, and broken…

Jazz was his. Prowl had no right to take him away. If he did, he would not be able to see Jazz again, he would be exiled, or executed… but Jazz would still live. He would not, and could not be the one to send him to the Matrix. Oh no, he loved him far too much to do that, but he would take someone else with him.

He was not a fool. He knew how to assess the strength of sparks and state of the bond belonging to those he had one with. Bluestreak's spark was strong, and his bond had some kind of blocking programme, an impenetrable one-way defence. Prowl's however…

Her spark was still weak. He smirked internally and silently praised the Decepticons for their shoddy work on her. She had not yet recovered fully, plus her bond was weak with only a basic block set up. Installing the blocking programme Bluestreak had probably would have been detrimental to her recovery. It would be easy to channel the feedback to her. So in that case…

"If I can't have Jazz," he smiled cruelly, locking optics with Swift, "no one can."

Without warning, Jammer's right arm wrested free of Bluestreak's hold, grabbed a laser scalpel next to him, activated it and plunged it into his spark. A strangled gasp escaped him, but Swift cried out in pain, Jazz and Bluestreak in shock and horror. The femme fell to the ground and started writhing about, hands clawing frantically at her spark as she screamed in agony. A raw, searing and burning sensation blossomed in her spark, tearing her apart from the inside.

"Prowl!" "Mother!"

Jazz and Bluestreak felt a throbbing sting in their sparks, but it wasn't painful enough to the extent that would cause them to react like Prowl. Both of them were terrified out of their circuits as they rushed to her, watching helplessly. Jazz reached out and held her close, trying to calm her, while Bluestreak looked almost ready to break down at the sight. Jammer was in spasms, not quite dead yet, but furiously concentrating in using whatever he had left to kill Prowl.

The pain intensified, sending Jazz and Bluestreak reeling back slightly. Their bond connected all four of them, but the feedback of Jammer's spark fading was directed to Prowl. If nothing was done quickly, she would –

Bluestreak's mind was suddenly made up. He wanted nothing more than to save his mother, he had promised her he would help in any way, and so he would. Bringing up the programme that formed the filter block in his bond, he deleted it, and plunged his side of the bond into Jammer's attack.

A fresh wave of panic washed over the saboteur as he saw his creation collapse onto the ground, writhing like his bondmate. Bluestreak's mouth was open in a silent scream, his optics wider than Jazz had ever seen them, and one of his hands grasped desperately at the ground as he tried to crawl closer to his creators. He barely registered Jazz holding onto him as his other hand shook furiously but moved with some semblance of control, seeking out Prowl's. It grabbed hers, and squeezed tight.

Deafening silence followed as all movements abruptly halted.

Jammer's frame became still as Bluestreak and Prowl fell limp in Jazz's arms, optics offlined.

Author's Notes 2: The next chapter should be the last. Hope this one wasn't too badly done.

Reviews and/or criticisms (preferably constructive ones) are welcome. Thank you.

Refracted Imagination, logging off.