Monitor duty: the most spark-killing, dull, I-am- unofficially-punishing- you job in the universe. Bots died from sheer boredom staring at the myriad of monitors splaying the wall on the inner sanctuary of Red Alert's sacred control room. Green lights radiating from the monitors danced wickedly along the interior walls, mesmerizing in their repetitive dance as the light sirens lured their victims to the forbidden valley of recharge.
Jazz onlined his optics with a start as recharge protocols slipped back into the recesses of his subconscious mind. Damn monitors. Inferno, ya owe me big time. He thought ruefully as he shifted in his chair, stretching his sleek frame and clicking the joints back into place, satisfied with the popping sounds.
A small, familiar chuckle drifted from the door. Jazz slowly swiveled his chair towards the bot holding energon and grinned a lazy smile at the Primus-sent newcomer.
"They told me you were doing monitor duty. What did Inferno promise you this time?" Blaster said as he walked towards Jazz. He handed the saboteur his energon and took a seat across him, unceremoniously lifting his pedes and resting it on the consoles.
"Who told you it has anything to do with Inferno?" Jazz asked slyly.
"For one, you're not on punishment duty as far as the roster goes, and two, the previous time you were in here for reasons other than punishment was to help Inferno out. So, I ask again, what did he promise you this time?" Blaster asked, raising his optic ridges.
"Com on, my mech, just helping out a friend in need." Jazz replied laughing. He took a big gulp from the pink energon, hoping that it would rescue his processor from the monitor's devious sirens.
"Riiight." Blastered drawled out as he interestedly watched Jazz take another big gulp of his energon. Poor mech must have been nearly energy deprived. "Jazz you hate monitor duty about as much as the twins do. Not your style to be staring at mechs through monitors. How long you've been staring anyway?"
"Ah don't know, probably since the new shift rotation." Jazz shrugged off. "Besides, if Red Alert holds true t' his record he ought to be back any breem."
Blaster smiled broadly. "I've got a bet running with old Smokes about those two. Wonder if Red will ever see poor Inferno the same way Ferno sees him."
Jazz chuckled, throwing his arms out in an open gesture to himself. "Why do you think Ah'm sitting here? Ah've got credits to Inferno winning."
Blaster laughed at Jazz, shaking his head. "Should have known it wasn't all about 'helping your friend in need.'"
Jazz leaned forward in his chair, his chuckle fading to a sad smile. "Nah, it ain't all about the credits. It's 'bout helping those two out. Poor mech needs someone to take his processor off these vicious littl' things." He said indicating the monitors, "otherwise we will continually be accused of being spies or assassins."
"True enough. But still, this is torture to social bots like us." Blaster replied.
Both mechs turned towards the monitors and watched silently. Jazz's optics automatically travelled towards the screen monitoring the Head Tactician and SIC's office, staring longingly at it and absently wondering what Prowl was doing. He snorted. He knew what Prowl was doing, could even imagine him sitting behind his desk, doorwings held high while reading all those life-sucking, dreary datapads. He frowned as he refocused his attention at the image displayed on the screen. A mech, of Praxian model, stood before the door with two cubes of energon. His optics narrowed as the door slid open and the unknown mech stepped into the office and out of the camera's view. A click later the door slid shut. Jazz continued staring at the screen, subconsciously counting the clicks. Two breems passed and the door still remained stubbornly closed. Jazz leaned towards the screen.
Blaster eyed Jazz worriedly, his optics darting between Jazz and the screen. The saboteur had a way of seeing things other's missed. "What's up mech? You've been staring at that screen for a couple of breems. Something wrong?" He stood up and walked around Jazz, leaning over him to get a better look at the screen, and found himself staring at the empty corridor in front of the SIC's office. "Uhm, Jazz? Care to tell me what's so important about Prowl's office door?" he repeated when Jazz didn't respond, giving him a small prod on his shoulder.
Jazz glanced up at Blaster before turning to one of the monitors. "Ya know this mech?" Jazz asked as he typed in a few commands to replay the scene he had witnessed a few breems prior. He sat darkly staring at the screen as the vid replayed, suspicion clawing at his processor as jealousy slowly sank her claws unbidden into his processor.
Blaster stared at the screen for a moment, then shrugged. "Oh, that guy. Yeah, I kind of know him. Not personally, but Smoke's and I have talked about him. Designation's Codebreaker, a junior tactician recently transferred from Tyger Pax." He stepped back from Jazz and gave him a contemplative look, not totally devoid of friendly worry and blatant curiosity. "Why? What'd you see?"
"He took Prowl an energon cube." Jazz grumbled darkly as he mentally went through what he knew of a mech named Codebreaker, annoyed that he didn't really know anything about him.
"He took Prowl an energon cube? What? That's it?" Blaster repeated, looking incredulously at Jazz. What on Cybertron was so significant or threatening about that? He thought. It was common knowledge that Jazz usually took the tactician energon, but still…Gears grinded to a halt and a light clicked on as his processor stumbled over the sudden revelation. Of course! How could he have been so thick? A small, devilish smile started playing at the corner of his mouth as he regarded his best friend in a brilliant new light.
"Yup, nobody takes Prowl energon." Jazz sank lower in his chair, visor darkening slightly as his good mood quickly evaporated. Why the slag is he taking him energon?
Blaster leaned against the console, facing Jazz. His knowing smile threatened to split his faceplate in two, while little devils of mischief danced in his optics. Damn, he couldn't believe he'd been missing this the whole time. Inferno and Red Alert was nothing compared to this brewing bet. "Jazz, I believe you're right. No mech ever takes Prowl energon…" that smile took on a dangerous air, "except you." He said poking Jazz in the side.
Jazz shot his friend a withering look. "What's that suppose t' mean?"
Blaster grinned even broader as he leaned towards Jazz. Optics to visor, he gleefully whispered "I believe you're jealous!"
Silence reigned supreme for a full breem as dancing optics stared into unreadable visor. The spell lasted only a moment. Jazz suddenly shifted in his chair, his charisma rising to his rescue as he petted Blaster on the shoulder.
"Now now my mech. Why would I possibly be jealous? Ah'm simply curious. It's something out of the ordinary and it's mah job as monitor bot to note down everything Ah believe is important. Can ya have imagined Red's reaction if he had seen that littl' interlude? He might have thought someone was trying to poison Prowl." Jazz said easily as he leaned back into his chair and ran scans over the other monitors, as cool and collected as possible on the outside while hiding the nagging little voice at the back of his processer admitting that Blaster was spot on. But damn if he'd let him know.
"What? There was an assassination attempt on Prowl?" A frantic voice asked from the door. Both bots visibly cringed at the sound of the Security Director's strained voice. "Has the alarm been raised? Where's Ratchet? I knew I shouldn't have left! Was it a Decepticon? Was he captured? Wait? Why haven't you raised the alarm? Unless…" his optics shot wide and blue light sizzled between his horns as he looked at Jazz and Blaster, before pointing his shaking finger at them. "Spies!" Red Alert shouted as Jazz and Blaster stared stricken at him.
Big, red hands gently rested on Red Alert's shoulders and squeezed them reassuringly. "Now Red, take it easy. We trust Jazz and Blaster, they are both officers. You know that." Inferno's deep voice reverberated through the anxious mech, his servo's gently rubbing up and down his shoulders and arms as the sizzling blue lights lessened in intensity. "Jazz and Blaster wouldn't let anything unusual go unnoticed or unreported. Wouldn't you?" He said looking pointedly at Jazz and Blaster.
Both bots nodded slowly. "Yup, Prowl's fine, I was just jokin' with Blaster here. My bad." Jazz said cheerily as he lifted his servo's in resignation. The last thing he needed right now was Red Alert fritzing and being taken to the medbay. Then he would really be stuck in this slough of despond staring at slagging monitors while some other bot enjoyed his energon with Prowl.
Inferno continued gently rubbing his shoulders, encouraging him to relax. Red Alert finally relaxed enough to stop fritzing. He turned accusing optics on Jazz. "As an officer, you should know better than that Jazz. Monitor duty is serious! All the lives of the mechs on this base depends on it!" he scolded them in a condescending tone, as one would a naughty sparkling.
"You're absolutely right Red. We were just discovering how important monitor duty can be. Never knew you could learn so much about mechs by observing every orn habits." Blaster chirped, cheekily glancing at Jazz.
Jazz ignored him solidly, instead focusing his easy grin at Inferno, who was eyeing both mechs shrewdly.
"Thanks guys. We'll take it from here. Jazz, I'll catch you later for a cube of energon." Inferno finally said.
"Sounds good to me mech!" Jazz said jovially as he sprang out of the chair and headed towards the door, feeling three pairs of curious, suspicious and gloating optics resting on his back as he beat a hasty retreat.
Prowl finished the last of Ratchet's numerous medical reports with a sigh as he laid the datapad on a neatly piled 'finished' stack and looked regretfully at the stack of reports ominously waiting to be finished. His servo automatically rose to his head, gently rubbing his chevron in an effort to dispel the blooming processor ache that has been plaguing him since his shift started ten cycles ago. Usually his quiet, ordered office brought him blessed peace in which to focus on his duties as both head tactician and second in command, yet on this orn he found his focus drifting in and out, having to read and reread datapads before signing them off. He sighed, maybe he should go see Ratchet after his shift. Sighing, he reached for one of the datapads, but stopped short as his office door pinged.
He frowned slightly and checked his chronometer. He was surprised to find that Jazz was early today, about half a cycle to be exact. He schooled his expression before unlocking the door expecting Jazz to come swinging through for their usual routine of drinking energon after shift. A small twitch of disappointment shot through Prowl when, instead of Jazz holding two cubes of energon, it was the young Praxian. "Codebreaker, please enter." He gestured for the tactician to take a seat across from him.
"I hope you do not mind that I brought energon. Smokescreen suggested I do." Codebreaker said politely as he set the two cubes down on Prowl's desk and seated himself.
Smokescreen, that explains a lot. Prowl was hardly surprised since his older brother made it his goal in life to meddle in his affairs, wanted or not. He nodded curtly and accepted the energon cube. "Not at all. I trust that you have acquired the necessary data concerning the identity of the Decepticons attacking the Neutral settlements?"
Codebreaker withdrew his datapad from subspace, quickly scanning over the information presented on it."Yes sir, at least to a certain degree. According to the intelligence gathered, it appears to be the same group of Decepticons attacking the settlements. I have been mapping the attacks and the timeline, but so far no pattern has been forthcoming. It still appears completely random."
Codebreaker had been devoting the last two orns to tracking down all the available information on the Neutral settlement attacks as possible. It had been surprisingly difficult since most of the eyewitnesses were either dead or unavailable to talk to, and the information he could access were so vague as to be rendered nearly useless. It would of course have been easier if he had had access to the Iacon mainframe, but access was strictly limited to officers only.
"Have you mapped out the attacks?" Prowl asked, interrupting the other tactician's thoughts.
"Uh, yes, sir."
Codebreaker stood and moved to Prowl's side, placing a holomap in front of him and activating it, displaying the map and timeline of the attacks. Prowl shifted uneasily in his chair as their energy fields gently brushed against each other. Not that it was an unpleasant experience, it was just, odd, to have someone so close in proximity other than his brothers or Jazz.
If Codebreaker shared any of his discomfort, he did well to hide it. The young tactician was in his element as he enthusiastically explained every detail of the attacks, questioned motives, and finally hypothesized his own theories. Prowl tried to focus on the information he was being given, but the stubborn ache in his processor was growing at an alarming rate, threatening to swallow him whole. He absentmindedly raised a servo to his head as he tried to focus once again on what Codebreaker was ranting about.
"…so we need to access the mainframe to be able to identify the Decepticons."
Prowl frowned slightly at that, some of his faculties returning to him. "Why would you need to access the mainframe?"
"Sir, the databases I have been running does not contain any information to the identities of the Decepticons. The mainframe is linked to all the bases and if any of the bases have any scraps of information on these brutes then the mainframe would be able to divulge it to us." Codebreaker said as he watched Prowl.
"Why do you not send queries out to the various bases? Mainframe access is limited to officers only."
The Praxian's doorwings dropped slightly as he looked at Prowl. "Security reasons. If this is something more than just random attacks on settlements, then it is possible that the Decepticons will be watching and waiting for queries. Should a query be intercepted, they might change their pattern or go into hiding. Then we will lose whatever advantage we have." He hesitated for a moment, "It is the most logical course of action, is it not?" The room lapsed into silence as Codebreaker waited for Prowl to respond.
Prowl sat silently, staring at the holomap while still cradling the side of his head, his optics flickering, yet he said nothing. Codebreaker leaned down to look at him, a puzzled expression settling over his handsome face. "Sir?" he prodded when Prowl didn't respond.
The young tactician looked Prowl over, noting the anxious twitching of his doorwings and his unfocused, flickering optics. "Sir, are you alright? Is something amiss?" A small groan escaped Prowl as his fans clicked on, dragging cold air through his vents.
Codebreaker stared at Prowl a moment longer before sliding his arm around Prowl's warm waist and gently aiding him to stand. "I think, sir, that I should escort you to the medical bay." His soft voice was laden with concern as Prowl leaned his weight into him, his vents hitching and sucking air harshly into his overheating, quivering frame.
Codebreaker made his way to the door, gently holding his senior tactician while he alerted the medbay for their arrival. He was about to enter the codes when the door slid open, taken aback by the sight of Officer Jazz standing in the doorway looking unusually pissed.
Jazz's furious expression quickly morphed into one of concern when he saw Prowl leaning heavily on the young tactician, vents heaving as wave after wave of heat rolled off his frame. He quickly rushed forward and slid his arm around Prowls waist, pulling his frame closer and allowing him to lean on both mechs. "What happened?" Jazz demanded as they made their way into the hall and turned towards the medbay, Jazz clutching Prowl a little closer to himself.
"I, uh, I am…unsure, sir. We were discussing information when he just, uhm, stopped talking or responding." Codebreaker stammered nervously, adjusting his arm to get a better hold on Prowl.
Thankfully Prowl's office wasn't located relatively close to the medical bay and the trio reached it in less than a breem. Prowl's vents were heaving hard by this time as his fans struggled to cool his overheated systems. As they reached the medbay, the new medic came sprinting towards them, shooing the young Praxian away as he took his place next to Prowl. Codebreaker silently followed them into the medbay, optics wide.
"Place him on the berth to your left." He directed Jazz. Jazz obligingly led Prowl there, but reluctantly released his charge to the medic. He stubbornly remained at Prowl's side.
Jumpstart immediately set to work, connecting various machines to lower Prowl's frame temperature and monitor his vitals. He leaned over Prowl jacking his cable in to run internal diagnostics, frowning slightly at the results.
Jazz looked around the medbay, searching for the familiar grouchy medic. "Where's Ratchet?" he asked Jumpstart, who was disconnecting from Prowl.
"He is recharging. His shift ended a cycle ago and no critical patients demanded his attention. He is not to be disturbed unless absolutely necessary" He turned to face Jazz, his blue optics shown with sincerity coupled with stubborn determination. "Trust me." He whispered.
Jazz eyed him wearily. As part of special opts, he knew that trusting unknown mechs could get you killed, and at this moment, it wasn't his spark on the line, it was Prowl's. Damn if he trusted this mech. They stared at each other, blue visor locked on blue optics; one challenging, the other pleading. Codebreaker watched them for a moment before inching his way towards Prowl's berth as the two mechs eyed each other. He carefully laid a servo on Prowl's arm, causing the tactician to groan with pain as over-sensitive sensors reacted to the touch.
The groan from the berth was enough to snap the two mechs out of their staring contest and turn their attention once more to the ailing tactician. The medic frowned, looked at the machine readings, swore, and sprang to Prowl's side, withdrawing a syringe from subspace and injecting a light blue fluid into his exposed energon lines. The effect was immediate as Prowl's faceplate relaxed and he fell into unconsciousness.
Jazz pressed his mouthplates together and opened his comm. line to Ratchet as he watched the Tyger Pax medic work on Prowl. His visor darkened marginally as he spotted the younger Praxian's servo still on Prowl's arm.
::What is it?: a voice like the sound of grinding gears grumbled over Jazz's comm. line.
::Prowl's back in the medbay. Overheatin': he replied tersely. His comm. line remained silent for a few clicks as he walked towards Codebreaker.
::On my way: Ratched replied curtly and cut communications.
Jazz came to a halt next to the young tactician, who eyed him warily. Jazz said nothing, but deliberately dropped his gaze towards the servo resting on Prowl's arm. Codebreaker swiftly withdrew his offensive servo and stepped away from Prowl, eyeing Jazz wearily.
Jazz leaned against the berth and crossed his arms. "You can leave now. Prowl is an officer and this is confidential." He stated blandly, nodding his head in the direction of the door.
Codebreaker's doorwings twitched nervously as he looked from Prowl to Jazz and back, before shrugging and departing for the doors, his doorwings drooping ever so slightly. As he approached the doors, they swung open and admitted a very irate looking medic, who made a beeline for Prowl's berth. The young Praxian gave one final, unreadable look at the senior tactician and left the room.
Ratchet immediately went to Prowl's side and jacked into him, running diagnostics, much to the surprise of Jumpstart. Jumpstart threw Jazz a menacing look before turning to Ratchet.
"Sir, I've already run diagnostics. His firewalls…"
"Quiet!" Ratchet demanded as he perused the diagnostic results. Jumpstart sighed and stood back, giving the CMO all the space he needed.
Ratchet unplugged his cable from Prowl and turned his menacing glare at Jazz. "Get out! I'll comm. you when you can come play fetch." And with that he turned his undivided attention back to the prone tactician.
Jazz shrugged and walked towards the exit, but instead of leaving he leaned against the wall, well out of Ratchet's reach. He watched in silence as the CMO uploaded programs and barked orders to the new medic, his CPU racing to process the latest turn of events. This wasn't exactly how he had planned to get the young Praxian away from his Prowl. He would have preferred avoiding the medbay at all costs. Yet here he was, staring at Ratchet, Jumpstart and Prowl in the medbay. He shifted uneasily, thinking back over the past orns. Prowl had shown no signs of relapses and was functioning normally, or normal according to Prowl. His check-ups with Ratchet had shown no anomalies in his systems. According to Ratchet, Prowl had a clean bill of health. So maybe this was sabotage. Jazz's mind went unbidden to the young Praxian tactician. Maybe he had placed something in Prowl's energon, or maybe...
"Jazz!"
Jazz jolted upright as Ratchet barked his name. "Yeah, uh, how is he?" he rolled his shoulders, cracking his joints as sauntered towards Ratchet. Looking around, he was surprised that the only occupants in the room were Ratchet, Prowl and himself. "Where's Jumpstart?"
"Told him to get lost, I can take things from here." He nodded towards his office and marched towards it, leaving Jazz to quickly scurry behind him. Ratchet closed the doors once they were inside and turned towards Jazz.
"Let me hear it." He demanded.
Jazz looked at him, confusion clearly written across his face. "Hear what?"
Ratchet's scowl deepened. "What the frag happened?"
Jazz shrugged, leaning his hands on Ratchet's desk, his mind once again racing with every possible sinister scenario. He looked at Ratchet, deliberating what he could tell him and what he couldn't. Not that he didn't trust the medic, but neither did he want to start a rumor accusing a mech of something he might or might not be guilty of. He sighed. "Don't know yet. All Ah know is that one minute he was fine, the next he wasn't. Codebreaker, the bot that brought him in, was with him when it happened."
Ratchet moved to the back of his desk and sank wearily into the chair, crossing his servo's in front of his chest and regarding Jazz thoughtfully. He sat like that for a full breem, scrutinising Jazz. Jazz started fidgeting under the hard, unyielding stare. Finally Ratchet leaned forward and narrowed his gaze at Jazz. "You suspect foul play. So do I."
Jazz was taken aback by the blunt statement from the CMO. He rubbed a hand over his faceplate. "Yep, guess Ah do. This whole thing just ain't makin' sense. It was basically the same as what happened last time, except that this time it didn't get as bad, and someone was with him when it happened."
"I want his report on this incident as soon as possible. And as to this being the same as the previous time, not entirely. The previous time there was no trace of anything in his system, virus or not. This time was slightly different."
Jazz perked up at that, his frame shifting slightly as he adjusted his seating. "What d'ya mean?"
"I wasn't able to isolate the problem or identify it properly, but diagnostics show that his firewalls were reinforced by his battle computer automatically, which, in Prowl's case, usually means viral infection. However, the diagnostics still doesn't register any foreign program, virus or some other slag, in his systems. My diagnostics once again show him as clean. Nothing to even suggest anything wrong." Ratchet said as he leaned back. Now he could feel a slagging processor ache developing.
Jazz took a moment to digest this news, thinking over what he knew of viral infections, malicious or not. He looked at Ratchet, gauging his appearance. "That's odd, ain't it? I mean usually there would be some sort of evidence left, right?"
"Yes, usually. I'm going to keep him overnight, run more in-depth scans of his systems and try to download his battle computer logs, though, it being Prowl, I suspect they will be heavily encrypted." The medic sighed, suddenly looking years older as he thought of his peaceful recharge all but gone with the wind. If it wasn't the twins keeping him out of recharge, it was Prowl. Slaggers.
"Ok, well, guess Ah'll be going. Got some thinkin' to do. Let me know when Prowl's online again. Ah'll need to write up a report."
Ratchet gave a small, disbelieving grunt as he narrowed his eyes at the saboteur. "You? Write reports? Come in for a check-up in the morning."
Jazz smirked at Ratchet. "Ah ain't that bad with writing reports." He stood and left the office, walking over to Prowl.
He stopped next to Prowl's berth. His spark tightened as he looked at all the machinery plugged into Prowl, monitoring his every function. Taking Prowl's servo into his hand, he gently leaned towards the tactician. "Ah'll get to the bottom of this Prowler. Ah promise."
"Mission setback, battle computer has detected virus, but I was able to upload necessary programs. Situation is contained." A soft voice said desperately.
"Advise: no more mistakes. Time is of the essence. This is the second delay. You will face consequences."
The mech hesitated for a moment, fear ripping through his frame like sharp, deadly claws. "Understood." he said softly.
"Objective: complete mission. No more mistakes or delays.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed and PM'd me! They are appreciated from the bottom of my heart!
Hopefully I'll be able to get back to regular updates now that the festive season is over. If you have any suggestions, questions, or anything else you want to know about this fic, feel free to drop me a line. :D
May you have a wonderful 2013!