As promised, the Friday update. Now if you will excuse me I have another update I would like to get done before break ends.

"Get down off of my rafters!" Ratchet's voice jolts Speedeagle out of recharge, nearly making her fall off of the beam she's perched on. She collects herself and drops down to the floor before giving a long stretch. As promised, there are a lot of warnings and error messages on her HUD but Speedeagle dismisses them without a second thought. Ratchet points to one of the berths lying around the Med Bay and Speedeagle jumps onto it without any other amount of coaxing. "Now I'm going to have to induce stasis. The coding hampering your systems may get violent when I try to take it apart, so I'm not going to take any chances" Ratchet explains. Speedeagle nods and lies down complacently before Ratchet induces stasis.

Speedeagle onlines after roughly a solar cycle (so her chronometer says at least). "Alright" Ratchet steps back "I believe I've fixed everything and I took the liberty of reverting your optics back to blue so you don't give anyone a spark attack." Speedeagle chirps happily and jumps down off the berth. Ratchet turns his attention elsewhere so Speedeagle wanders out of the Med Bay into the hall. Jazz had asked her to look after a bot named Prowl so she heads toward tactical, some part of her processor saying it'd be a good place to start.

The other members of tactical jump a little as Speedeagle walks past, their scents are that of allies though so she leaves them be; even if the trace amounts of fear are tugging at her predator codes to attack. One scent more familiar than the others makes her pause "Hey Speedeagle, Prowl's in his office" the speaker, a Praxian, nods his head in the direction of the back. Speedeagle nods and continues on her way, leaving the rest of them to whatever it is they were doing.

The door opens and Speedeagle spies the bot she's looking for sitting behind the desk typing away on a datapad. His scent hooks some more of her memories together and she chirrs, of course Prowl is working, why wouldn't he be? Prowl looks up and quirks an optic ridge "Speedeagle, I was not informed you were up and moving yet." She shrugs and looks around as Prowl returns to his work, finally jumping on top of some cabinets which sway slightly.

This time Prowl doesn't look up from his work but his doorwings just barely twitch in annoyance. "Try not to mess that up it took me several joors to get those files organized." Several kliks pass without incident but then Prowl visibly pauses, drawing Speedeagle's attention. The tactician glances over at her "Do you know where Jazz is, usually he spends his off time in here." She shakes her head and switches to the team comm.

:: He left on a mission, I thought you were the one who sent him out. ::

Prowl shakes his head "No, perhaps..." he sifts through the datapads situated in the largest stack on his desk. "I have not been notified of Jazz being sent out on any more missions. In fact he supposed to be on leave for a few solar cycles to recuperate from his last mission. Since no emergency has happened to my knowledge there is no reason for Jazz to be gone."

:: Hm, he told me shortly after we got back he had a mission.::

"There is at least of 25% chance it was a recharge flux."

:: No I could smell him, recharge fluxes can't fake scent. ::

If Jazz had left on a mission it would explain why the saboteur isn't currently pestering Prowl and nearly making him glitch at least once every solar cycle. Prowl nods and turns his attention back to the datapads on his desk. It's a little too quiet though, usually Jazz makes some sort of background noise while Prowl works.

After only a few moments of trying to concentrate Prowl sets the datapad back down. Part of his processor is nagging him more about where Jazz was sent and why rather than the fact the saboteur isn't here. Only three bots on base can override the usual mission recuperation period. Prowl's battle computer starts running the statistics, coming up with an over 75% chance that Drift is the one who sent Jazz out right after he returned.

Prowl mulls over his options, as CTO he doesn't have the authority to simply ask Drift where Jazz went. A formal request would probably also be denied as it may give away too many details about the mission. There is also the fact that Drift does not like me. Given all of those factors, Prowl would have to use unconventional methods to find out where Jazz was sent. As a former Enforcer breaking Autobot regulation doesn't sit very well with Prowl; he's too used to setting an example. On the other hand, some bots would have no problem with it at all.

:: Speedeagle, I would like you to do me a favor. ::

:: Yes, Prowl? ::

:: Would it be possible for you to figure out where Jazz has gone? ::

:: Hm, I'm no Mirage but...I'll see what I can do. ::

The femme gets up and jumps off the cabinets before slinking out of Prowl's office. He turns his attention back to his datapads and continues working.

A few joors after Speedeagle leaves Prowl gets a ping for entrance into his office. He accepts the request without bothering to check who it is. "Prowl, just the mech I was looking for" Prowl glances up as Drift leans against the wall by Prowl's desk.

"What can I do for you Drift?" Prowl turns his attention back to his datapad.

"Don't play dumb with me, you sent two of my agents out on missions without my authorization, one of them you sent out twice in a row."

Prowl looks up at the Head of Spec Ops "I never assign specific agents to plans, that is your job."

Drift glares back at him "Then why are Jazz and Mirage gone? More importantly, why was Jazz sent out again after less than a joor of being on base? All Spec Ops agents need time to rest and recuperate between missions."

"I am well aware of this, I was going to look into the matter." Prowl doesn't let his facial expression slip, but his doorwings draw up slightly in agitation.

Drift smirks and moves so he's standing in front of Prowl's desk. Prowl gets to his feet and sets his datapad down in one rather smooth motion. "Yes, I think I quite enjoy this assignment" Drift mutters. He dives at Prowl who jumps back but gets tangled up in his desk chair, sending them both crashing to the floor. Prowl tries to lever his opponent off but Drift secures one hand around his neck, threatening to crush his voice box. Then something very sharp and very painful gets embedded in one of Prowl's doorwings.

Speedeagle onlines to an overwhelming sense of dread and jumps to her feet. This sense of dread is different; it doesn't have that hint of irony that says Mirage is in trouble or the anticipation that comes with Jazz being in a tight situation. This sense of dread is almost calculating, like-. Speedeagle freezes in the middle of her throught process. Calculating like a tactician. She races out of the room and skids down the hall.

Ah don't like this one bit. Jazz trials down one of the lower level halls of Tyger Pax, making his way down to the cells. It had been almost a chore to get access into Tyger Pax. They had clearly been expecting for someone like Jazz to show up, because if he'd stuck to the mission plan HE would be the one in need of a rescue. That simple fact has Jazz on high alert as he makes his way deeper into the base.

Around half way to his destination Jazz has to duck for cover as a patrol makes its way past him. He debates terminating the patrol and getting the information from them, normally he wouldn't consider but everything about this mission seems off. Clearly some bot has set him up to get captured and interrogated by the 'Cons. Jazz hears the telltale sound of a bot's systems running behind him and immediately turns around, blaster in hand.

There's nothing there to see but Jazz can feel a blaster pressed against his head as sure as he can feel his own blaster up against his invisible assailant. The 'Cons never were known for their Spec Ops so there's no way any Decepticon posses cloaking technology. Still, Jazz keeps his voice very quiet "Raj?"

"Jazz" Mirage drops his cloak and removes his blaster from Jazz's head.

"So ya got out without meh, huh" Jazz removes his blaster from Mirage's neck. "Are th' Cons on high alert 'cause ya got out?"

"No, they were like this before though my escape didn't help." Mirage turns his cloak back on briefly before turning it off again. "There aren't any patrols around here right now."

"Then let's do some investigatin'."

"Not much, we should not stay long" Mirage slips out of their hiding spot and Jazz follows him down the hall. Jazz pauses as he gets a faint but familiar sense of dread. Mirage also stops and glances back at Jazz. "No I know that look-"

"Prowler an' Eagle could be in trouble, we're gettin' outta here now."

"Fine, but let's not alert the whole base to our presence on the way out."

"But where's th' fun in that, Raj?"

Prowl glares up at other mech "You are not Drift."

"Are you sure about that?" He twists the dagger slightly but Prowl has already turned off his sensors so there's no pain signals. "Hm...smart, I can't threaten you with pain and I've only got a little bit of time. I was hoping to drag some information from you but I'll settle for killing you."

"You didn't plan very well for this" Prowl practically growls back before knocking the other mech off and pulling the dagger from his doorwing. He gets to his feet as the Drift-look-alike does the same.

"I planned well enough" the other mech lunges at Prowl and a scuffle ensues before Prowl tosses the mech on the floor.

"It would appear not" Prowl mutters and a thud draws his attention just to his right. "Speedeagle, keep an eye on our guest while I call security." The femme growls slightly and Prowl raises his empty hand in defeat, setting the dagger on his desk "and Ratchet."

"Good, the last thing I want is Jazz coming after my aft because you're too stubborn to get help" she settles down on Prowl's desk, minding the datapads and the dagger. Prowl nods and turns to leave. He gets to the door when his leg struts give out and he hits the ground.