Part 37

A heavy silence descended over the whole crew as Steelhaven came into land. Jazz had known that going back to Nova Cronum after their brief stay in Iacon wouldn't be easy. Iacon had felt safe, friendly, Nova Cronum no longer did.

He understood, as he looked out across the wasted city, why the Autobots referred to such places as 'fallen': it wasn't just buildings that were destroyed, but what they represented. Another sanctuary was gone, and Jazz was sure that he wasn't the only one who had realised that there weren't many places of safety left.

No one spoke as they disembarked, they all knew what they had to do, and talking would only make it worse.

Wheeljack and Sunstreaker split away from the rest of them soon after, and Jazz hoped that the engineer would find more of his lab than the expected ruins. Wheeljack had put so much work into his inventions and ideas, and to find all of them destroyed would be spark-wrenching.

Jazz sent up a quick prayer to Primus and moved on. He and Trailbreaker had other concerns, Sideswipe was only worried about protecting them, and Hound was staying aboard Steelhaven.

Trailbreaker's face was unusually blank as he moved as quietly as he could through the city, but Jazz knew what he was thinking. Nova Cronum wasn't just somewhere to the black mech and his bond-mate, it was the place where they had become lovers, and because of that the city was possibly the only place that Trailbreaker had considered a home in vorns.

Nothing moved as they crossed courtyards, and stalked down corridors. Jazz had been hoping that they would find a few survivors hiding in the wreckage, but it seemed that everyone who could had fled. Nova Cronum had become a husk, an echo of life. Jazz had seen such horrors before, and each time he found himself praying that he never would again.

Eventually they reached the hub control room, where Jazz and Trailbreaker hot-wired the master computer. The power supply wouldn't last long, but it didn't need to. Their mission was to salvage everything they could, and destroy the rest. The control room would soon become just another crater on their battle-scared planet.

When Jazz had outlined their mission Trailbreaker had remarked that Nova Cronum had never been beautiful, but that hadn't made any of them feel better.

Between them Jazz and Trailbreaker installed the data-retrievers, while Sideswipe stood guard. After that Trailbreaker took over monitoring the devices, while Jazz set to work on the explosives. Unusually for his unit there had been no volunteers to blow something up.

Jazz soon lost patience with everything. He was horribly aware that the longer they stayed in the city the more danger they were in. His fears became reality all too soon; the high-pitched whine of Seeker engines was unmistakable, and far too close.

"Hound!" he yelled, over the comms, "get airborne, give cover fire if you can, but do not engage."

"Copy that," Hound responded, although he sounded reluctant. "Steelhaven is going up."

"And just how are we supposed to get aboard if she's in the air?" Sideswipe demanded to know. "Only 'Jack and I can fly, and there's no way either of us could keep up with Steelhaven."

"We'll just have to find our own way," Jazz said grimly.

The look that Sideswipe gave him should have seared his paint-job. Jazz had to admit that he wasn't looking forward to driving back to Iacon, but Steelhaven would never be able to hold her own against a trine of Seekers.

"How long 'Breaker?" he called. It was an effort to keep the desperation out of his voice.

"Five breems, maybe four if we're lucky," Trailbreaker reported instantly.

They had done everything as quickly as they could, but as Jazz had feared from the start, they just weren't fast enough.

"Let's see if we can cut that down to one, shall we?" There was a way, but he knew that Trailbreaker would call it idiotic. In one smooth motion he connected himself to the mainframe, and mentally started the download. Information flooded his processor faster than he could ever hope to keep up with. Even for Jazz, who considered himself a close to an expert of such things, the sheer speed was painful.

He was only vaguely aware of Trailbreaker kicking up a storm, or maybe that was just what he was expecting, reality seemed so far away he wasn't truly sure of anything.

Then agony lanced through his circuits, and by the time he knew what was happening he was bent over Trailbreaker's shoulder, and the black mech was running as if the Pit had opened up behind him.

"Let me down," he ordered.

"No time," Trailbreaker shouted over a roaring sound, which Jazz was afraid that he knew all too well. "The city is burning."

"Why do half the places we go end up on fire?" Jazz asked. He wasn't really functioning properly, or he never would have asked, but it seemed like the right time to ask a stupid question.

"I've been asking myself the same thing for vorns," Trailbreaker grumbled.

"Sides," Jazz called out. He couldn't see the red mech, truth be told he couldn't see much of anything except for Trailbreaker's rear-quarters, but the second set of foot falls he could hear could only belong to the warrior. "Where's Sunny?" He had no doubt that the golden warrior could look after himself, and that it was Wheeljack he should be more worried about, but Sideswipe would never forgive him for asking about the engineer before Sunstreaker.

"Half a mega-mile ahead, and somewhere above us. We're in an old turbo-shuttle tube, I think he's on the surface, neither of us is sure which is better."

"Is he under attack?"

"No, but I don't think he can see Hound either."

"Hound was forced south," Trailbreaker put in, "Steelhaven isn't a match for Seekers, even with a full crew. He's hoping to circle round to us, but that'll take a while."

"Get Sunny down here before he's spotted Sides," Jazz instructed. "And 'Breaker, for the love of Primus, put me down!" The deep rumble of explosions and hiss of fire had subsided, and Jazz knew that they were as safe as they were likely to get.

Trailbreaker laughed, the deep hum reverberated through Jazz's chassis before the black mech set him down unceremoniously, and shoved him to get him moving.

For the first time Jazz could actually see where he was, rather than just a close up view of Trailbreaker's aft, and he wished that his friends had taken the surface route.

The turbo-shuttles had once connected every city on Cybertron, Jazz had known all of them nearly as well as he knew Steelhaven, but they had fallen into disuse early in the war, and now lay almost forgotten, most were blocked, some were destroyed, but they had been so full of life once that Jazz felt saddened by their sheer emptiness. The tunnels were a pitiful place, but once they had been so vital to Cybertron's existence that they had almost felt alive.

Jazz's processor ached. He told himself that it was the echoes, and his sorrow, but he had a sneaking feeling that he was lying. He'd been caught in more than his fair share of explosions too, so that didn't account for the pain either.

"Sunny's found an access shaft," Sideswipe announced suddenly. Jazz tried not to flinch at the sound, but every noise seemed too loud.

"What about Hound?" Jazz asked Trailbreaker.

"He's closing fast, shouldn't be long."

"Then we'll wait here," Jazz decided. "Who knows how far it is til the next access, and we seem to be safe for now." Every word seemed to take more effort to get out, and the echoes they caused hurt his audios, but he couldn't let his friends see. He loved and trusted them, but he was still their commander, and they needed him to be strong.

The wait was agonizing, but when Sunstreaker arrived Jazz's only wish was that it had lasted longer. On a good cycle the golden warrior could be as stealthy as any of them, but Sunstreaker had scratched his paint, and been forced to run rather than fight. Jazz could hear his anger as he stomped toward them long before he started ranting about Seeker mentality.

Somehow he managed not to flinch away or cover his audios, but that effort seemed to take the last of his strength, and he soon found himself leaning against a wall for support. This didn't help much though as every vibration he picked up made him feel worse.

Breems, or maybe vorns later, Wheeljack touched his arm and pointed upwards. Hound was almost with them, and a moment later Jazz picked up the distant drone of her engine.

He tried to carry on as normal, issuing orders and making sure everyone else was okay, but he soon noticed that Wheeljack and Trailbreaker were trading concerned looks, and knew he didn't stand much of a chance against both of them. He loved them both dearly for all that they had given him over the vorns, but there were times when he wished that they didn't know him quite so well.

Once they were airborne again Wheeljack gave him a breem to make sure everything was in order, then quietly took him to one side. "What's going on Jazz?" he asked seriously.

"The blast rattled me is all," he muttered. "My helm feels like it's been used as a bell."

"It's more than that," the engineer snapped, "how are your data storage levels? 'Breaker told me about your little stunt on the Ops room. I really thought that you had learnt your lesson when it came to putting yourself in danger." He actually sounded disappointed, and Jazz found himself studying his feet the way he had when he was a youngling.

"I..." Jazz faltered, "I didn't think it would hurt this much."

Wheeljack rattled of a few adjectives that would have made a lesser mech's audios burn, Jazz had heard them all before, but they had never been aimed at him all at once.

"Everything I do makes it worse," he admitted.

"Then don't do anything. Lay down, shut up and let 'Breaker and I get you to Ratchet."

For once Jazz had no problems following orders, he doubted that he could have done much else anyway, but he couldn't help wondering what sort of fit Ratchet would pitch when they got back to Iacon.

Jazz was barely online by the time they got back to the capital. His whole body hurt as if he was being punished for some terrible sin, and every attempt at movement seemed to double his agony. Trailbreaker put an end to that torment by scooping him up, and carrying him to the med-bay, but he soon realized that his punishment wasn't finished with him yet.

He heard several mechs talking, some to him, others about him, some kindly, and some not, but he no longer had the strength to respond, and for a long time the only mercy in the world seemed to come from the gentle hand that held his the whole time.

Just once,Wheeljack wished as he left the med-bay at full speed. He'd wanted to stay with Jazz, but Ratchet had told him that Perceptor was the only one who could really help Jazz, and that he would appreciate and extra pair of hands. If only I could leave Jazz alone without him nearly getting scrapped, I'm sure I'd feel better. He knew that Jazz was no sparkling to be coddled, but he did have a knack for finding trouble.

He was both surprised, and relieved to see Bluestreak walking towards him. The young mech grinned, and suddenly the last cycle didn't seem so terrible. There was hope to be found, and Wheeljack threw himself into a tight embrace.

"What's happened?" Bluestreak asked desperately, "I saw that your shuttle was back, but none of you have even accessed the hub."

"You have to remember that most of what we do is classified Blue, we don't check in the same way regular soldiers do." Wheeljack explained, hoping desperately that Bluestreak wouldn't push for more.

"Can you tell me who's hurt?" Bluestreak pleaded.

"Jazz pulled one of his stunts," Wheeljack said unsympathetically. "He'll be fine, but I have to see Perceptor. Can I come to you when I'm done?"

"If you like," Bluestreak answered, with an uncharacteristic lack of enthusiasm. At any other time Wheeljack would have stayed to ensure that the younger mech was okay, but while he was doing his best to remain resolutely unsympathetic towards Jazz, he also knew that he couldn't leave him to suffer.

The time Wheeljack spent with Perceptor felt more like an eternity than half a cycle, but they had known from the start that it would be a big project. No one had done more than upgrade or replace a few components since the hubs had been created lifetimes ago, but Perceptor's task had been to create a secondary, more secure version of the current installation. In Wheeljack's opinion the project was more like a work of art, but he knew that few mechs would appreciate it, but then, most of the Autobots would never know it existed.

Back in the med-bay Prowl was growing impatient, it was an unusual experience for him, but then most things that connected him to Jazz were. It had been so long since Prowl had been in a relationship that he had almost forgotten what it felt like, the few 'facing partners he'd had in the intervening vorns didn't count, they had been there when he needed them, but no emotions had been involved. Jazz was different, he was a challenge, and a handful, but Prowl couldn't remember ever being so happy.

He shifted his weight slightly, and cursed himself when Jazz moaned weakly. He'd made a mistake just after Trailbreaker laid Jazz out on the berth, instinct had made him reach for Jazz's hand, but it had been Ratchet who'd stopped him letting go.

"He's assimilated too much data," the medic had snapped, "every new stimuli will cause him pain, and I have no way of knowing which movement will irreparably damage his processor. Until Wheeljack and Perceptor are finished you're stuck there."

"Isn't there something you can do?" Prowl had asked, but Ratchet's glare was enough to silence him. Anything else he tried might not work, and any failure could be fatal. The entire situation was almost more than Prowl could comprehend. From what little he did understand about Jazz the mech regularly pushed himself to his limits, it seemed almost impossible that he had finally reached them.

It was to Prowl's great relief when a weary looking Wheeljack finally returned to the med-bay, almost a half of a cycle later, and announced that he and Perceptor had accomplished their task. And when Jazz's visor flickered back to it's usual cerulean blue a few breems later Prowl almost felt like jumping for joy.

Before anyone could welcome Jazz back online, Ratchet leaned in close and growled something pitched for Jazz's audios alone. Jazz had the good sense to look truly ashamed of himself, but he grinned at Prowl the moment the medic's back was turned.

Prowl decided that the best thing he could do was follow Ratchet's lead, and gave him a stern look in response. "You shouldn't have done that Jazz. It was far too dangerous."

"Flying into Nova Cronum was dangerous," Jazz corrected him, "trying to download a whole hub was just plain stupid."

"At least you understand that much," Prowl relented, but he couldn't quite help smiling. It wasn't easy to get mad at Jazz, his disarming nature was too contagious.

Jazz grinned, and to Prowl at least the world seemed a little bit brighter. "Please don't scare me like that again," Prowl said softly. He wasn't quite begging, but it was close.

For the first time since they had met Jazz's expression became solemn. Prowl had seen him look serious before, but this was different, and he got the feeling that few mechs had ever seen this side of Jazz.

"I can't promise you that Prowl," he said honestly, "but I'll do my best."

"Then I won't ask anymore," Prowl responded. He was surprised to find how much their simple agreement reassured him, but then Jazz had the knack for surprising him in the best possible ways.

Much later, and with his processor running at a normal speed, Jazz let himself into Prowl's quarters. Prowl himself had made a detour to his office in his way back, but he had promised not to take too long.

Jazz looked around, everything was exactly the same, which wasn't a surprise. He wondered if he should get Prowl a gift, something that the tactician could look at when Jazz was on a mission, the idea made him smile, but he wasn't sure what the gift should be so he filed that away for another cycle, and crossed the room.

A small panel on the wall was the only reminder for the outside world, it was part of the internal comms system, but could also be used to play music, and that was what Jazz wanted. Curiously he scrolled through Prowl's play-list, most of it was classical or traditional, and Jazz couldn't help noticing that there was a lot of choices which contained strong harmonics. There was very little new material, but the same could be said of Cybertron in general.

Jazz picked a few old favourites, mixed in others that he had never heard, and pressed play. Music filled the room instantly, and Jazz sank down against the wall to listen. The world, he hoped, was done with him for a while, and he wanted nothing more than to feel the rhythm.

His respite didn't last long, he'd only expected Prowl to be a few breems, but as it turned out it wasn't Prowl who interrupted him. The door chime should have been a clue, but Jazz didn't know how Prowl had his personal security set up, so it was plausible that with one mech inside Prowl would have to be let in. He never expected a Prime to be on the other side of the door when he signalled to open it.

Optimus looked down at him curiously. "Did you fall?" he asked.

Jazz scrambled to his feet. "No sir. I was just relaxing. Ratchet told me to."

"From Prowl's report I'd say that your down time was hard earned," Optimus observed. "My question is, do you think it was worth it?"

"The intel we retrieved was important. My team, and others, bet their lives that it might help end this war, not all of them won," Jazz explained, "I couldn't allow their loss to be a waste."

Optimus nodded solemnly. "We agree on that at least. I should tell you that I am here in an official capacity. With Nova Cronum gone Ultra Magnus has asked for reassignment. He will tell anyone who will listen that he is a soldier, and ill suited to command. I had hoped to boost his confidence by giving him responsibility, but it seems I must find another way, which leaves me without a Special Operations Commander, and that is where you come in."

"Me?" Jazz exclaimed. Forgetting for a moment that it wasn't his place to question a Prime. "Optimus, I..."

"The decision has been made Jazz," Optimus said sternly, but not unkindly. "You have the experience, and a well established unit to support you. I actually commissioned your promotion before you left for Nova Cronum, but you left sooner than I expected, and I missed the opportunity to tell you. Hopefully your first mission as an officer will prove to be the most dangerous."

"It certainly ranked in the top five," Jazz allowed, who still thought that the situation was absurd. Somehow in the space of a few processor-bending vorns he had gone from the least responsible mech on the planet, as Trailbreaker had once named him, to a commanding officer who could truthfully say that he had been hand picked by a Prime.

The whole truth was that his commander's choice was more like a lack of options, and Jazz was still thinking about that when Optimus excused himself.

Jazz was still trying to puzzle out whether, or not, the conversation was a hallucination caused by his overtaxed processor, when Prowl let himself in a breem or so later.

"I believe congratulations are in order," Prowl greeted him.

"You've spoken to Optimus then," Jazz replied, taking some comfort in the fact that he hadn't imagined the whole thing.

"I had to countersign the orders so I knew already, but we passed in the corridor. He said you were behaving a little strangely, and I reminded him who he was talking to. He seemed amused."

The last comment, delivered in Prowl's dry, even tone was enough to bring a fond smile to Jazz's lip-components. "It's good to know that he cares," he said softly, "my guess is that he was surprised to hear you talking about someone in such familiar terms. Everyone knows that you don't form attachments easily."

Prowl nodded in agreement. "Until recently the only mech I cared about was Bluestreak, my reason for being was to protect him, although I always knew that it was an impossible task. Then you came along, and I have the feeling that my life will never be the same again."

Jazz grinned, and pulled his lover into a deep kiss. "That much I can promise you."

A.n: Yay, finally, I'd really hoped to get this chapter finished before Christmas, but work, shopping and festivities got in the way, so all I can do it wish you all a rather belated new year and apologise again. Take care, FB.