Prowl stood in the entry hall, waiting patiently. Jazz had asked him to meet him here after his morning meal, saying he wanted to show him something. Large doorwings moved in a slow, lazy motion as Prowl contemplated that. Since the energon incident Jazz had increased his efforts to get to know Prowl, something the Praxian had not considered possible. Prowl was certain he had seen everything there was to see inside the compound of the ruling family, but then, this was Jazz he was talking about. The mech had more surprises than a street performers subspace pockets.

Prowl vented softly, allowing his processor to focus on Jazz. The more Prowl learned about Jazz and the better he got to know him the more of a mystery Jazz became. And illogically enough, the more of a mystery Jazz became the stronger Prowl's denied feelings became for him, as did the conflict Prowl felt about him.

"There yah are!"

Prowl allowed a hint of a smile to show as Jazz bounced up. "Hello Jazz. Am I allowed to know what you are planning now?"

Jazz smirked. "Yah will in a minute. Come on, follow me!"

"Are you sure this is safe?" Prowl questioned carefully as he followed Jazz through the streets of Polyhex. Even sequestered away in the compound Prowl had never stopped listening. The entire planet had been thrown into turmoil with the unexpected transfer of power among the Primes, and Polyhex had been one of the centers of extreme unrest.

"Yah. I come out 'ere all the time." Jazz assured him, leading him along the edges of the bustling activity.

"Won't you be in trouble if you are recognized?"

Jazz shrugged. "Hasn' been an issue yet. An this way I know what's goin' on."

Prowl had to concede that point, and his opinion of Jazz went up another notch. It certainly bode well for Polyhex that their future lord took such a personal interest, instead of depending on what others told him, of the condition of his state.

"So where are we going?"

"Everywhere." Jazz replied easily, then gave in to what he had come to recognize as Prowl's almost obsessive need to know. "There's a little subsection of the city, kinda the artists quarters if ya will. I like goin' there when I'm out. Last stop and we'll head back, I promise."

He said it was safe, Prowl reflected bitterly to himself as nudged Jazz a little farther behind their meager protection, sheltering him as best as he could. He spared a glance at Jazz hiss of pain as the mech tried to move in the direction that Prowl indicated, the wound in his hip joint sparking and popping ominously.

'This is your city." Prowl stated, his calm and focus rather out of place in the middle of the riot in which they'd unwittingly gotten trapped. "Is there a way around this, one we can make it through?"

Jazz ground his denta together, thinking. "For ya, if ya can make it ta that sidestreet over there and hop the wall."

Prowl didn't look at him, optics evaluating the escalating situation all around them. "I am not leaving you behind."

"Might not 'ave a choice in da matter."

"You are correct." Prowl responded, most of his processor not trying to figure out a plan for acquiring a weapon. Any sort of projectile weapon automatically raised their chance of escaping the situation still functioning by fifteen percent, a considerable margin given the circumstances. "The only options to be considered are ones that will get both of us out of here."

Jazz was gearing himself up to argue his point when fresh laser fire announced newcomers to the fight. Instead the young Polyhexian vented in relief. "Tha' would be tha local Enforcers."

"Good. We may get out of here, and get help for you, sooner that anticipated."

Prowls' hopes on the matter were quickly dashed when one of the Enforcers fell and the rest fell apart in confusion. His irritation grew when they made no move to regroup, so when one of them stumbled by Prowl latched on to him, dragging the mech behind the wall he and Jazz had been using for shelter.

"What are you doing?"

The mech looked at Prowl like the Praxian's processor was on the fritz, completely confused. "Who are you?"

"Prowl. Who is in charge?"

The enforcer pointed at the mech who had fallen. "He was."

"Who is next in command?" Prowl demanded, his calm finally starting to settle the other mech.

"Well, uh-?" The mech looked around desperately.

"Give me your spare firearm, and the channel you are using to coordinate."

"I can't do that." The mech responded, processor finally starting to overcome the panic that had been scrambling it. "Regulations state-."

"We are in the middle of a firefight and there is no one in charge. I am taking command." Jazz stared at Prowl, shocked by the steel tone of the Praxians voice as Prowl continued to give orders. "Now give me the frequency."