A/N Ok, left you all hanging long enough. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Hasbro owns TF.
Jazz onlined very slowly. A groan escaped his lips but he felt like it was a million miles away. Primus, he felt almost hung over. He tried to move, but couldn't.
"Uhhh...wha-?"
As Jazz managed to online himself fully, he remembered what had transpired. "Prowler!" He gasped in panic. The white mech tried to get up off what appeared to be a medical berth, but found he couldn't. Looking down, he realized the restraints had been engaged in an attempt to hold him down. Attempt, being the key word. That could only mean that Prime was actually contemplating Megatron's demands. Something inside Jazz snapped. He'd had enough of all of this.
Jazz began to struggle, rubbing his forearms against the bonds; if he could just get it at the right angle...There. The restraint holding his right arm was worn enough to snap it cleanly. Within a few seconds, Jazz was free.
'Hmm...Probably guarded. Let's see who..." Jazz quietly slunk to the door and listened.
"I feel bad." Sideswipe's muffled voice said.
"You're not the only one." Sunstreaker's voice replied.
"This is bad Sunny..."
Jazz moved back from the door, not wanting to hear the conversation. The twins certainly wouldn't let him waltz out of here; not without knocking their helms together until they saw stars at least. 'Think Jazz. Think!' The white Porsche thought as he turned around scanning the room.
"Hmm...Of course!"
The mech quietly uttered before he hurried to Ratchet's office and then into the back supply closet. Jazz smiled grimly as he found the air vent he was looking for. Deftly pulling away the grate, he jumped into the vent and began to army crawl through. According to the schematic Red Alert had drilled into him, this particular duct lead out just past Bumblebee's room.
Making sure the coast was clear, Jazz exited the vent and slunk down the halls. It was very late at night, and auxiliary lights in the hallway were the only thing on at two thirty in the morning. However, light fell on the floor from the open room ahead which happened to be the bridge. Jazz stayed in shadow and got close to the door frame, he could hear the murmur of three mechs. A southern drawl; Ironhide. A frank and dry voice; Ratchet, and a deep smokey Baritone; Optimus. Jazz tuned in his audio receptors and listened.
"Ya can't be serious Prime."
"We have no choice. The future generations of Cybertron mean more than what little victory a battle would create. Prowl will certainly be killed if the Decepticons detect a rescue attempt."
"Jazz won't like this."
"I put him on a sedative. He should be knocked out for at least another hour. Not to mention he's restrained with the Twins guarding him."
Jazz gave a small smirk. Ratchet hadn't given Jazz general anesthesia in years. He must've forgotten his high tolerance for it.
Moving on, he quickly entered his room. Kneeling down next to his berth, he reached under and pressed a button. With a small hum, the berth rose and a small click was heard. The white mech grabbed the corner of the berth and lifted it up, the top moving on hidden hinges.
Jazz stared down at what was inside the hidden compartment. He hadn't shared this with Prowl, but when the war first started, Jazz and the band he was part of enlisted for the Autobots and acted as a unit under the same name. It was covert, and operated outside normal chain of command. The white mech turned out to be a natural at sabotage, and he quickly earned a reputation as a master Saboteur. Primarily, for his ability to blow stuff up.
"Hello beautiful." Jazz muttered as he reached inside and pulled out what he wanted. There were enough explosives here to level an Iaconian building four times over, and that's exactly what he wanted to do to the Nemesis.
Grabbing all the explosives and detonators he could safely subspace, Jazz put his berth back and walked out the door...where he ran smack into the twins.
Sideswipe and Sunstreaker looked at Jazz, arms crossed.
"Jazz." Sideswipe said.
Immediately, Jazz squared off for a fight. "Ya ain't gonna stop me!"
Sunstreaker dropped his arms. "You're not getting out of here. Not without our help."
The Saboteur looked surprised. "Help?"
"Sure." Sideswipe stated. "We wanna help. The Decepti-creeps will pay for this." The red lambo's face became dead serious. "They seriously crossed a line taking Prowl. No one messes with Prowl but us!" Anger spilled through the twin bond, making Sunstreaker's expression darken to near murderous. "I have an idea to help you. But there's one condition."
"What?"
"Shred 'em."
Ten minutes later, Jazz stared at Sunstreaker's work. Grey was his primary color now, and his stripes had been replaced by dark red and midnight blue. The colors were dark enough to blend in on the seabed near the Decepticon base.
Jazz gave a low whistle. "Ya really outdid yaself Sunny."
"Least we could've done." The yellow speedster replied flatly. "All we ask is you come out alive with Prowl."
Sideswipe cracked a smirk. "Well...If ya ever have a son, you could name him-"
"Sideswipe."
"Ok. Sorry. Meant it as a joke." The red Lambo turned serious. "Knock 'em dead Jazz." He grabbed the Porsche's servo. "And for Primus sakes, be careful."
Jazz nodded, and then was gone.
"Ratchet's gonna kill us." Sideswipe remarked.
Sunny was silent for a second until, "Yeah. Probably."