But when they arrived, it was to find Optimus already standing in front of the first cell. Prowl drew up short at the doorway and put one arm out, halting Jazz as well. The brig was not something they had to resort to often. Even repeat offenders like Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were more likely to be put to work until the punishing officer was satisfied. No, Optimus had beaten them to Cliffjumper, and neither he nor Jazz would interfere until Optimus was done.
Jazz stepped behind his shoulder, scooting close enough that Prowl felt the warmth from his systems. Both of them took the other's presence as a shield against their Prime's anger. The officers often looked at their leader as an inspiration or friend, perhaps even going so far as to call him their only hope, but there were times that he put aside every other aspect of himself and acted as the Chosen of the Matrix of Leadership, Leader of Cybertron, capable of spark shattering guilt trips, and even the ricochets off his speeches hurt.
Since Cliffjumper was not trying to talk over him or interrupt, Optimus must have been speaking for a long time already. Jazz wished he could see the smaller bot around Optimus. Cliffjumper matched his name in every way, and Jazz wanted to see the sad pile he made when he hit the bottom.
"—to raise arms against your own comrades," Prime said, continuing a speech that had clearly been going on for some time. "Comrades who have fought alongside you and protected you in battle at the risk of their own lives."
"He's a sympathizer, you can't deny it," Cliffjumper said, but the words came reluctantly from his voice processor. "He don't wanna fight."
"Who among us wants to fight?" Prime said. "No one wants war, and no one should want to raise arms against another Cybertronian. And yet Mirage has fought loyally for our cause for thousands of vorns."
"Lousy 'Con in 'Bot insignia," Cliffjumper muttered at his lowest volume.
"Today," Prime said, pausing for effect, "the only one acting like a Decepticon was you."
Prime's last comment dropped on Jazz and sank down so that he felt too heavy to move. Prowl lay a hand on his shoulder, but Jazz didn't notice, slamming his vents tight so he wouldn't make a sound, no matter how hot his system had started to run.
Jazz? Prowl tentatively pinged their internal comm system, his inner voice gentler than his disciplined face would suggest. Are you all right?
Just dumb memories, Jazz rushed to say, annoyed at how Prowl had caught him. I'm good.
Yes, Prowl nodded once as if Jazz had passed inspection, facing the browbeating still in progress. You are.
When Prime finished, Cliffjumper was sitting on the floor, head in his hands, barely responsive. He nodded when asked if he understood exactly what he'd done, and his salute trembled when Prime turned and left.
Jazz and Prowl stood at attention when he drew close, the authority noticeably slipping from his shoulders as he vented once. No one enjoyed a chewing out, least of all Optimus.
"How's Mirage?" he asked.
"Ratchet said he'll be fine." Prowl glanced at Jazz. "And our Third has promised to be a 'good, disciplined, little Autobot'."
"Prowl, you are one seriously uncool cat." Jazz gave his fellow officer a sideways glance that was only barely discernible behind the visor, groaning slightly and lowering his helm a few inches.
Optimus nodded in appreciation with his mask only somewhat muffling his laugh. "I never doubted it. He's all yours, Jazz, but don't tear him apart. He'll be in here for a few orn, and I don't think he'll find many friends when he comes out."
Jazz felt warmth spread through his spark. Nearly countless vorn working under Optimus, and yet their leader still reassured his worries just by being so close that he could feel the taller mech's vents. Jazz measured himself against Optimus' opinion of him, and he strove to never give Optimus a reason to be disappointed in his choice.
"Sure thing, boss," Jazz nodded, offering his rarest 'trust me' smile, rare in that he actually meant it. "I'll be just a couple kliks."
"Then I'll leave you to it," Optimus said. "Be sure you two comm me when you know what you want to do about the Soundwave situation."
"Of course, sir," Prowl said.
Optimus nodded and walked on. Jazz couldn't help watching him go. In just a few breem, the Autobot leader could reduce a mech to wanting to tear out his own fuel pump in guilt or follow him into the Decepticon base with nothing but his bare hands.
"You want to go in first?" Prowl asked. "Or shall I?"
"I will," Jazz said. "Like I said, just a couple kliks."
He went and stood in front of the cell, arms crossed, simply staring at Cliffjumper. The scuffs and dents on the mech's armor surprised him a little—Jazz needed to find out which Autobots had tackled him and give them a little reward. Cliffjumper would be lucky if Ratchet sent him painkillers, let alone came to repair him right away.
A breem passed. Then another. Jazz was beginning to consider what to do about Punch and Soundwave when Cliffjumper finally spotted him and startled backward, hitting his head on the wall.
"Jazz," Cliffjumper said, swallowing his nervousness. "Hey, listen—"
"No," Jazz said.
Cliffjumper's jaw clicked shut, and Jazz drew up close to the bars and leaned forward.
"You hurt my 'bot," Jazz said. "Who's a thousand times more dependable than you. I don't know what Prime said, and I don't know what Prowl'll end up doing to you. I don't care. 'Cause I'll deal with you later myself."
The other mech stared at him in confusion. "What—?"
"You won't see me coming," Jazz said. "You won't know where I am. One moment you're walking down the hall, and then..."
He waved his hand idly, letting Cliffjumper jump to his own conclusions.
"That...that's not fair," Cliffjumper whispered, his optics growing wider. "You can't—"
"Why not?" Jazz said, already turning and heading toward the door. "Just using your own tactics."
"Jazz, no," Cliffjumper said, grabbing the bars and calling after him. "Wait! Jazz!"
"Maybe," Jazz said over his shoulder, "when you leaping off of cliffs, you oughtta start thinking 'bout what scrap pile you gonna land on."
Once he was clear of the brig, Jazz glanced at Prowl and kept going. The private message on his communicator didn't surprise him.
Attacking an Autobot is not permissable at any rank, Prowl reminded him.
Let him look over his shoulder for awhile, Jazz said, pausing. He's gonna find he ain't got no friends, not when I'm the one looking to cut his cables.
Jazz...
Venting, Jazz turned and faced Prowl, ducking his helm at the stern look on his friend's face. Ain't no thang gonna happen, bossmech. Didn't even threaten nothing, and 'sides, putting him on alert might put him on his best behavior for awhile, right?
Careful, Prowl said, but his internal voice was light after Jazz's swift reassurance. Your Decepticon is showing.
Bad habits die hard. Jazz frowned. But you are gonna handle him, right?
I think half a vorn of surprise double shifts, Prowl said as he came close. Keep him too tired to attack anyone. Plus a complete wipe of any of his privileges. He will have to earn those back again. That, coupled with the stigma of having hurt one of our own, should make him understand the severity of his actions.
Prowl stepped close, reaching up and caressing Jazz's audio horn, brushing the back of his hand across the Third's helm. It hurts, being viewed with suspicion by your comrades. I would not wish that on anyone. Hopefully he will learn his lesson and eventually return to full status.
Ain't inviting him to no parties ever, Jazz said, tilting into Prowl's palm. Speaking of which, when Ratchet signs off on him, I'll be breaking regs and throwing Mirage a welcome back party with all of Spec Ops, Blaster and probably the twins to keep things lively. Probably snag a little coolant with some questionable additives, too.
I see... Prowl said, quirking a faint smile.
Very hush hush, Jazz added. Don't tell Prowl. He gets really annoyed when I bend the rules.
I'm sure he does, Prowl said. But for Mirage's sake, he'll probably give you half a joor warning before raiding the party.
That's all I ever ask, Jazz said with a kiss to Prowl's fingertips, heading down to Wheeljack's lab to temporarily spring the twins from their hazardous punishment detail.