Chapter 51

'on point'

"Constructicon Scrapper, acknowledge."

"Constructicon Hook, acknowledge."

"Constructicon Long Haul, acknowledge."

"Constructicon Mixmaster, acknowledge."

"Constructicon Bonecrusher, acknowledge."

"Constructicon Scavenger, acknowledge."

For the second time Soundwave cycled through the designations, a little more anxious with every passing unanaswered hail. "Any Constructicon, respond. Now. Classification: highest urgency."

Still nothing. Rain could interfere with comm signals, he knew, but it really hadn't begun to rain yet - just intermittent drops leaking from the sky now and then, an ominous prelude to what was coming.

"Still nothing?" Frenzy asked, doing his own best with the console's equipment. "Cuz, same here."

"Why Scrapper's team, though?" Rumble pressed. "Why be more worried for them when they're the only gestalt on Cybertron? They're stronger than anyone else in the city."

"Constructicons, also a target," Soundwave explained, never pausing in his repeated hails. "Their team already has custody of slaves Grapple, Hoist, Windcharger, and First Aid. Since recent upheaval, also has temporary custody of traitors' slaves Perceptor, Groove, Fireflight, and Bumblebee. Since previous two cycles, also has Megatron's injured slaves Sunstreaker and Bluestreak in their medbay. With exception of Jazz and Chromia, Constructicons now housing every Autobot on Cybertron. Autobots, almost double the number of Decepticons under that roof." His cassettes stared as he spoke, optics turning paler by the astrosec. "And, as stated, Devastator only gestalt mech in city. Autobots have strong incentive to destroy that gestalt, by eliminating all or at least one of the Constructicons."

"And, um." Rumble cleared his throat nervously. "Do you think they're not answering because of the rain?"

"Perhaps." Soundwave finished his fifth attempt at reaching the Constructicons, and looked back to his balcony doors. "Perhaps not. For this uncertainty, I should go there directly." Acid was dripping from the sky, yes, but Soundwave was big and built with thick armor. His thrusters were fast enough that he'd get to their complex with minimal damage. "However…"

"However?" they all chorused, verbal or not. Again Soundwave's gaze fell back on the hax table.

"Concern, justifiable for Decepticon Command. In Jazz's thoughts, large fires seen. Suspicion: Jazz arranged for explosives under key buildings. Headquarters, the obvious target. And Jazz… must be seen to."

They all exchanged looks. "You said he's still inside it."

"Affirmative." Wearily Soundwave thought about how he'd spent so much time locking down his home in the most secure, escape-proof building in the city, only for Jazz to no longer be inside it. Megatron didn't even bother to keep guards. "This, however, does not guarantee my knowledge of his current actions."

"Are you gonna try to hail Megatron?"

Briefly Soundwave shuttered his optics. If he did, and Megatron did answer, what would he say? What could he say? The real question Rumble was asking was will you finally tell Megatron the truth?

Soundwave's optics flipped on and he made for the doors in long, swift strides. Rain was coming faster; no more time to delay. "Time for departure, now."

"Wait, Soundwave!"

Impatiently Soundwave looked to Frenzy, who suddenly looked very small and fragile. For some reason he was suddenly reminded of that moment he'd found Frenzy in headquarters, shellshocked for having blabbed the truth to Jazz. "What will you do to him? Will you kill him?"

He only barely considered the answer. "Negative."

"Even if -"

"Jazz, mine," he reminded his other possessions. "Whether he understands it or not. And I do not let go what is mine."


The smart, logical thing to do was to fly directly to the Constructicons' complex. There he could personally warn the gestalt, ensure the slaves were properly restrained, and hail Shockwave to see to his own property. And then, finally then, he could hail Megatron, by which time he'd have figured out what to say.

All of that was the smart thing to do, and perhaps Soundwave should have done that, but instead here he was touching down in the doorway of Decepticon Command, just nanokliks after the uneven drips turned into full rain pelting from the sky. Soundwave stumbled through the doors, pockmarks of acid sizzling all over his armor, subdermal sensors lit up in agony. He grasped at the drying cloth in his subspace and wiped it rapidly across the plating, which did nothing to help the pain, but could at least keep the acid from etching deeper into him. Primus, it burned.

Soundwave took a moment to lean against the wall, forcing himself through several deep vent cycles, accessing each pain sensor and switching off its input. When he could take a step without collapsing, he pushed away and made for his office, where he had superior comms equipment. And this office was even closer to the Constructicons, so maybe…

No response. Soundwave swallowed back his dread and recorded the warning instead, dropping it into their general inbox and flagging it with the highest urgency marker available. That accomplished, he left his office and made for the central lift. He was the only thing moving, the hallways stretching empty and silent around him. Since the end of the war it would have been standard practice to release most headquarters staff to go home for a rainstorm, but a skeleton crew should be here, guarding the entrance, monitoring the consoles, keeping an optic on things. With all the mass desertions bleeding out their government, they just didn't have the mecha anymore. Everything had crumbled so fast.

Soundwave called up the lift, entered, and out of habit rode it straight to the top level of the building. But once he'd stepped in front of Megatron's door, that's where mind and body came to a screeching halt. Anything might be happening on the other side of that door. Maybe Jazz was asleep on Megatron's floor, maybe he wasn't. But he was here, according to his tracker, and he was with Megatron, and what was Soundwave supposed to say to Megatron when he pressed that keylock? The truth? The truth was all Soundwave ever wanted to tell, but the truth would get Jazz murdered on the spot.

Helplessly Soundwave backed away from Megatron's door, back into the lift. Maybe he couldn't confront Megatron just yet, but there was still that concern of explosives. That he could confront, and would. Down went the lift again, down past the first floor, down into a place that most civilians didn't even know still existed: the subterranean levels.

It was cheaper, Scrapper had explained, to just clear away the debris of the old ruined Council building. There was no point in demolishing their mostly intact basements, it would only cost them in time and weaken the foundation besides. And so Megatron's shiny modern headquarters was built on top of the governing capitol he had so violently replaced. A mech would have an easier time going unnoticed, placing hypothetical bombs down there than on the ground floor in full view.

The doors slid apart, and Soundwave stepped into the past. Here the corridors were not lined with shiny brushed steel, but older, darker metals that had oxidized with the centuries. The air was musty and stale against his sensors. What should he even look for? All over again he wished he could open a channel to one of the Constructicons; Soundwave didn't know much about demolition or building stress points. But he did know what explosives look like. He would know if something down here did not belong. The halls were lit - barely - by old security track lighting running along their upper edges. He dialed up his optical input and moved deeper into the darkness.

Hardly had Soundwave taken five steps when he hesitated, one pede just over the floor. Was that… music? Promptly he increased his audio gain to maximum, and this time he was sure. There was music, human music, echoing thinly from somewhere in the black. Soundwave checked Jazz's tracker again, and yes it claimed to be in headquarters. Which, technically, was still true - just very, very far below where he should be. Soundwave unspaced his blaster and finished setting his pede down on the grating. He did this as softly as he possibly could, taking extreme care, but Soundwave could not move silently like Jazz. Jazz, whose hearing was every bit as good as his own, if not better. The music switched off, and Soundwave knew he'd been heard.

He eased the blaster into firing mode and covered the rest of the distance smoothly and quickly. The hall turned a corner and terminated into a thick security door, well and firmly locked. Soundwave swept the space from end to end, and found nothing. But he didn't imagine that music; Soundwave was not capable of imagining music. He cycled through another quiet vent, spark spinning so loud in his chest it seemed he could hear nothing else. Jazz was here. Soundwave knew it, knew it as well as he knew anything about his slave. And because he knew him so well, he knew where to find him too. Cautiously, ever so slowly, Soundwave backed up until his heel tapped the wall behind him. Abruptly his face snapped upward, gun tracking toward the ceiling in the same moment.

Jazz was already there, hanging by his knees from some pipework, grinning that upside down grin, blaster pointed straight at Soundwave's visor. "Now what's a classy mech like yourself," he drawled, "doin' in a pit like this?"


They stayed there a long time, one standing, one dangling, weapons pointed at one another in mutual threat. Soundwave said nothing, so eventually Jazz filled in the silence himself. "How are ya, my love?"

Unconsciously Soundwave stiffened. Jazz had not called him that since the night of Shockwave's party. Still struggling to tamp down his frantic spark, Soundwave activated his own vocalizer and made sure it sounded equally indifferent.

"Jazz, should not be here."

"Damn straight I shouldn't be here. But then, you're the one that walked out and left me behind. Remember?" Sinuously he began the process of unwinding himself from his perch and back to the floor, blaster never once moving off Soundwave. Something bulky was strapped to his back, Soundwave noted warily, and wondered if it was another weapon or some explosives. "Did you change your mind? Did you come back to rescue me from Megatron?"

"Soundwave, here to stop you."

"Oh? From what?"

"Pretending, unnecessary. All of it known: your communication with other slaves through hands, your modified datapad. Hound's illusion. Your plans, discovered. Also, finished."

He'd hoped at least one of those would wipe that smile off Jazz's face, but he got nothing more than a faint flicker across the visor. "You've been busy tonight," he murmured, sounding impressed. "Now I know why you look so mad. You think I'm trying to engineer some mass escape for the Autobots, get us all out of the city. But you're wrong, Soundwave, you've got it all wrong." He paused and added, "That's Prowl's job."

Soundwave didn't let himself show a reaction, tempting though it was to squeeze his trigger right then and there. Jazz waited long enough to realize Soundwave wasn't going to speak, then kept going. "Me, I'm just here to sabotage the Decepticon Empire. Wasn't enough to escape, you see, the Cons had us outnumbered and on the run before. They could do it again. So I had to break this government apart from the inside, turn them all against each other until there was no one left to give chase. It's how I did it before. It's how I did it again."

"Wrong," Soundwave said flatly. "Jazz, unsuccessful. Drop possessions and return with me now to Megatron. Prowl, and other Autobots' survival, will be reported to him. Other portions can be omitted, to reduce chance of Megatron killing you."

"Still worrying over my welfare, love? That's touching, if inconsistent." Jazz leaned forward just slightly, sinister gleam in the visor. "I should thank you, you know. Because I must confess, there were some nights you almost had me going with that whole 'Soundwave yours' thing. I actually wondered if I'd be able to walk away when the time came. But then you turned your back on me, left me lying on Megatron's berth, and suddenly I had no trouble remembering what I am. What you are. And there was never a happy ending in the cards for us, no matter how hard you and the kids were wishing for it. Specially this little one right here."

Under his arm he shifted his mysterious bag forward, allowing it to tip open just enough for Soundwave to see the unconscious Laserbeak inside. And if Soundwave thought his spark was racing before, it was nothing compared to the sheer panic that engulfed it now. Carrier protocols surged from dormant to overwhelming all motor functions in less than an astrosec, consuming every conscious thought and demanding to protect his symbiote now now now. He was already moving forward before he realized it, but promptly froze when Jazz tapped a medical scalpel on her helpless head.

"Uh-uh, that's close enough."

"How -"

"Aid knows all the ways out of Constructicon medbay," Jazz reminded him, the edge of the blade sweeping around underneath her beak to rest against her throat. He did this without taking his gaze off Soundwave for a second. "And I was just paranoid enough to be prepared."

"Jazz bluffing," Soundwave snapped. "Jazz, not able to harm Laserbeak."

"Please, Soundwave. Who do you think gave Hound the order to whack her on the head with a tree in the first place? Laserbeak was my precious messenger, but I couldn't have her spilling her footage to you too soon. You'd have too much time to think about it. Though I really didn't expect her to wake up and insist on playing it right there in front of everyone, Megatron and Starscream included. It was too delicious for words. She played her part fabulously."

He kept on stroking her while he spoke, the motions so familiar and intimate that Soundwave couldn't stand to watch it. He lifted one pede, subconciously tempted to rush forward, and without so much as a seconds' hesitation Jazz sliced off one of her wing platelets. Had she been awake, she would have screamed from the pain, and reflexively Soundwave flinched from the imagined echo of it.

"After a year of brushing these wings," Jazz said, his voice a little harder this time, "believe me when I say I know every one of her vulnerable joints by spark. And I'll cut into each of them if I have to, I'll take her apart and mail the pieces back to you if that's how you want to play it. I'll do it, and not lose a wink of my next recharge, because right now you are the only thing standing between me and my freedom. Don't testme, Soundwave. Don't let another cassette die on your watch."

The words were so cruel that Soundwave nearly faltered, and Jazz didn't miss the way his blaster trembled in his grip. "That's right, it's not worth it. Go on, drop it now." In a twisted echo of what happened on Earth, Soundwave obeyed, allowing the small blaster to drop from his hands to the floor. "Kick it away, there's a good mech."

"Jazz should not be capable of making such a threat."

"I told you before, Soundwave, I am not the nice Autobot. I am the one who gets things done. Speaking of which, I need to get back on schedule. I didn't want you here, but since you are, you can help. I'm looking for something… about yea big, sparkly, last seen in the custody of one Optimus Prime? Care to lead me to it?"

"Jazz, stated disbelief in Matrix."

"Actually," Jazz corrected, "what I said was that I only believe in what I see with my own optics. And baby, I have seen that Primus-cursed chunk of glass do amazing things. It belongs to the Autobots, not Megatron, but I know he has it. He's the only one that could have gotten to Prime after that fireball. He may not talk about it, may not show it off like his other trophies, but he's got it. Aid thinks so too. I figure it's hidden down here, where he can burn himself trying and failing to use it in private. Go on, open that up and we'll go get it."

Jazz tilted his head toward the door, but Soundwave didn't move. "Soundwave, not in possession of key."

"Let's not waste time on your truth semantics, darling. Maybe you don't know this lock, but you do know Megatron's security system. You know his codes, you know everything about how he keeps his house. So you can and will figure out how to open this door." Jazz circled back deeper into the corridor, putting Soundwave between the door and his gun. "Come now. You know I can aim very well with this, and you really don't want to lie here in the dark, crippled and wondering if there'll even be a Decepticon medic to fix you when this is all over."

Soundwave didn't like that implication about the Constructicons, but right now he was concentrating more on his own circumstances. The sonic rifle on his shoulder was poorly suited to cramped quarters like this; a blast would bring down the walls and roof as well as Jazz, and the odds of Laserbeak getting badly injured were too great. And he couldn't call for help; his own comms were useless so far down here, rain interference or not. But Soundwave had other aces that Jazz hadn't considered, like that collar around his neck. He could trigger the shock punishment at any time, but not now, not with that scalpel pressed so close to Laserbeak's fuel lines. Better to go along for now, bide his time, and wait for Jazz to relax. Let him waste time on a treasure hunt, while Soundwave formulated counterstrategy.

"I'm waiting," Jazz prompted, but still Soundwave did not move.

"State actions taken against Megatron."

"Taken against…" Jazz repeated incredulously. "It's what he did to me tonight, remember? And to you too! And you're still worried about him, unbelievable. Baby, there's loyalty and then there's just masochism."

"Megatron, my leader, and only first of two that have betrayed me tonight," Soundwave said, voice clipped and cold. "Jazz may recall that Soundwave often answered Jazz's questions, though never required to."

Jazz actually considered that, visor glinting thoughtfully in the dim light, and finally answered. "I haven't done a thing to Megatron. You know how hard he recharges after a good long frag; he's just sleeping. Course, that'll change before the end of the night."

"I will stop you," Soundwave informed Jazz.

"Sure you will. Now move."


It took Soundwave just three tries to finish Jazz's decryption on the lock code, and they traveled deeper into the old capitol's halls. At first they walked in silence, but it wasn't long before Soundwave heard Jazz humming softly under his ventilations, and then eventually went back to playing music from his speakers again. Every now and then he would break into one of his little trademark hop-skips.

"Jazz should not be so quick to celebrate," he remarked acidly. "Must be aware of high probability of failure in this plan."

"Shh, d'ya hear that, love?" was the response. "The roar of seeker engines closing in, here to back you up? No? How about the clitter clatter of Insecticons coming to your rescue, or at least a Combaticon or two? No, you don't hear any of that, because I've spent the last six years Yoko-ing your Beatles while no one was looking. I am very aware of my chances, thank you, and I like them a lot."

Soundwave fumed, and had to bury the urge to strike at Jazz. He was keeping to behind Soundwave, not letting him see Laserbeak, and knew Soundwave's range well enough to stay out of reach. Jazz relied on the tempers of his opponents, he reminded himself; he must stay calm. Jazz also, he knew well enough, did love a good brag and could never resist an audience.

"Jazz, also engineered Insecticon attack?"

"Oh, those poor confused bugs," Jazz said gleefully. "They were getting orders from Megatron, or so they thought, to attack that human city. Then again for the refinery in the jungle. When the rest of the Decepticons showed up for a fight, what else could they think but that Megatron had decided to turn on them and kill them off? So they fought to their bitter end."

"And Combaticons?"

"Let's just say they really didn't have it in their spark to put up much fight when they got ambushed on Chaar. Maybe it was losing Onslaught. Maybe it was spending all those years getting treated like Megatron's garbage. Who can say? See, that's most of the trick to what I do, Soundwave. I didn't make Megatron kick around that gestalt, I didn't tell Shockwave to underpay the lawkeepers or redtape the economy to death. And I didn't tell a city full of mecha to start looking to Starscream when he did. The only reason for the failure of the Decepticon Empire is the Decepticons. I just... gave a nudge."

"Or camera."

"Or a camera," Jazz acknowledged.

"Jazz, stole it from my inventory."

"Absolutely stole it, right in front of all you. How many of them, was I juggling that day? Poor Rumble and Frenzy, they just couldn't keep count. And you, you were so busy watching the one in my right hand, you never saw the one in my left. I just held onto it, and passed it off to Perceptor next time I saw him at headquarters. Told him to hide it somewhere in Starscream's rooms… sure took him long enough to notice it." He clucked his glossa sympathetically. "You were right to cut me off from the other Autobots after all, it's just too bad for you that you didn't do it sooner. That turned into a hell of a day, didn't it? Ooh, remember how your team helped me nearly bring down the government in just one afternoon?"

"This much remembered," Soundwave said frostily, "Megatron struck me, in public, and devastated cassettes by confiscating Jazz."

He glanced back over his shoulder and was rewarded with the sight of a flash of guilt across that face.

"Optics forward, love. For what it's worth, I did not enjoy watching you get in trouble for that. It was my hope that it would be enough to kickstart Starscream into a rebellion, but sadly he backed down. Still, Megatron made the tactical mistake of punishing you through me, and once that was done, I knew you'd do do anything to get me back - including killing Shockwave's career. That should have destroyed the empire too, he runs so damn much of it, but no. You had to step up and fix it: taking on his duties, actually trying to help him get back in Megatron's good graces, right up to and including that stupid party. You were always," he interrupted himself with a small sigh, "different."

They'd reached the first flight of stairs. Soundwave descended the first steps to the landing, where they turned back on themselves, and used the chance to check on Laserbeak. She was still nestled in Jazz's arm, scalpel tucked neatly under her beak.

"Explain."

"The other Cons, I could always count on them to get mad, fight back, hold a grudge. Their pettiness was my weapon. But not you. As long as you had me and you had your kids, you were always ready to put the argument aside, do what was best for the empire. You set out to clean the messes I'd worked so hard to smear across the landscape. Annoying habit, that."

He waited until Soundwave had completely cleared the stairs before vaulting over the rail and dropping several steps at once. "You were so good at it, in fact, that there were times that I really thought you were onto me. The things you said every now and then… sideways looks at me out of your visor. I was so sure that you'd figured me out. But then you'd do nothing." He shrugged, keeping his distance when Soundwave stopped at the next level security barrier. "Blinded by love?"

"Assertion incorrect," Soundwave denied, hand stopping just over the keypad. "Soundwave, aware of circumstancial evidence, drawing some conclusions. Always watching Jazz very carefully."

"Not carefully enough to see me dropping gamecards all over the city. Or into that human's lap."

"But enough to discover Jazz's former status as slave. To learn how you escaped it. Enough to gather early estimation that Jazz allowed capture on purpose."

He looked at Jazz, and Jazz shot him a look of genuine surprise in return. He then, however, shook his head. "I didn't let Skywarp get me on purpose, Soundwave. We were going to lose against the seekers that day, no nicer way around it. I had to get the others away; I thought it'd be better if it was me that got grabbed. I'm the one that can escape any cell after all. I didn't know, then, that Megatron would be making slaves out of his prisoners. Some things, turns out, can actually be harder the second time around."

Something in Jazz's visor turned distant, his thoughts briefly lost to old memories. Soundwave's vents cycled in quiet preparation, but not quiet enough. The blade that had nearly fallen aside pressed into Laserbeak's neck again, and Jazz's blaster pointed itself at Soundwave's head.

"Let's not lose focus now. I still haven't found what I'm looking for."


"Jazz, query."

"Yes, love of my life?"

Soundwave kept his gaze on the keypad, pretending to pay full attention to his hack. "This much, not understood: the purpose of the Autobot brand painted on Megatron's statue."

He wasn't looking, but no way could he miss the soft growl of Jazz's engine. "Believe it or not, Soundwave, I was actually telling the truth that day. I have no idea who did that or why, and I was mad for more reasons than I could tell you that day. Gratifying though it may have been to watch, I really didn't need Megatron getting spooked by the Autobots. I needed him to take us for granted, to forget about us. Didn't much enjoy the broken arm either."

He sighed, then shrugged it off with a smile. "I feel like this is good for us. Don't you? We can finally talk to each other for real: no lies, total honesty, just like you're always wanting."

Soundwave stopped what he was doing and shot a cold glare at Jazz, who gestured with gun back to the lock. "Move it along, sugarspark, I got a schedule to keep. I'm meeting up with old friends later tonight."

Indeed he was, and in spite of the relaxed tone in his drawl Soundwave wasn't missing that occasional restless fidget. He'd already made it apparent that he never expected to be found by Soundwave down here, which meant at least one part of the plan wasn't going according to plan. Soundwave suspected that Jazz was more nervous than he was letting on.

"Jazz must know, no Autobot invasion on Iacon can succeed," he pointed out. "Even if ability to withstand rain found, city's defense against aerial attacks programmed for automatic engagement."

"Bots ain't coming from the air, Soundwave."

Because they were coming through the spacebridge, of course. Soundwave silently cursed his own oversight, envisioning the Stunticons' fuel camp overrun by a surprise attack, desperately calling to warn the Cybertron headquarters where there was no one to hear. Even with Menosaur, all those prisoners - Autobots and imprisoned neutrals combined - would be too much under Prowl's leadership for the young Stunticons to handle. It would end in only disaster.

"By now Prowler's probably done with those kids," Jazz said chattily, accurately guessing his thoughts. "I hope he had the time to make sure Motormaster died slowly. And Jack'll figure out something for the rain; he always does. I'd vote for using Shockwave as an umbrella, he's built wide enough, but that's not my department."

"Autobots' escape plan, well coordinated."

"I prefer 'exit strategy'."

"However, perhaps one factor Jazz did not consider."

"Oh? What's that?"

At last, at long last Jazz had become distracted enough to let the scalpel drift far enough from Laserbeak's throat, and Soundwave seized the moment to strike. He triggered the signal, already moving forward with arms outstretched to snatch her from Jazz's arms. Jazz's visor flashed white with alarm and he darted back well out of reach, pressing the blade's point so deeply into her fuel line it should have punctured. Soundwave froze.

"Careful, dearest, you startled me just now. Startle one more step and I'll put it right through her neck."

"How…"

"How what?

"Jazz, should be in seizures."

"I should- Wait, did you just try to shock punishment me? I don't believe it! You, of all mecha. And after all we've been through together." Jazz fixed him with a wounded look, clucking his glossa in disappointment.

"Collar should be functional," Soundwave protested. "Hook verified -"

"You double-checked me? I'm not surprised. But did you have him check before that day of the market riots, or after?"

Soundwave's spark sank, replaying his own memories. Those riots had consumed the city, all Decepticons deployed to suppress it, including the entire Constructicon gestalt. Their slaves would have all been unsupervised, and Jazz was lying on a gurney…

"Poor Aid was a nervous wreck," Jazz recalled. "But I told him, you're gonna have to practice sometime, and here I am. The Cons are busy putting down my latest handiwork, so it might as well be now. Course he couldn't disable the entire collar; you're always checking that tracker. But the shock wires, they had to go. We were getting too close to the end, and I couldn't afford that handicap anymore."

A fresh surge of humiliation swelled up within Soundwave, and it wasn't just the mortification of being checkmated by Jazz, again. Soundwave remembered everything about that night after the riots: carrying Jazz home in his arms, Jazz gently teasing him that they'd won that point together against the world. It was the first time Jazz kissed him, suddenly shy and insecure beneath all those pretenses - one of the few times Soundwave had ever thought he could see the real Jazz.

"Don't hate the player, Soundwave," Jazz murmured. "Hate the game. You made your mistake when you stopped playing it. You thought you won just because we had a nice tumble in the jungle, but the game was never about us. The game was going on long before you even snatched me from the seekers, which meant I had to change all my strategies. But that's alright, I coped; you didn't make such a bad tool yourself."

When Soundwave noticed the pain sensors hailing from his hands, he forced himself to uncurl his fists. "Soundwave, knows what Jazz trying to do."

"That'd be a first."

"Jazz, trying to make me angry. Trying to treat me as enemy, not master. Establishing such emotional distance must make this easier."

Jazz snorted. "I wouldn't worry too much about that; I've been waiting for this night a long time. Ain't nothin' hard about it."

"Your time with me, so terrible? Jazz fed, cared for, indulged."

"Are you…" Jazz's mouth was falling open as he gaped at Soundwave in astonishment. "Trying to persuade me out of escaping slavery?"

"Jazz -"

"You made me eat out of your hand. Did you really think I'd learned to like that, that I would just keep doing it forever? You thought you could make us your servants, when we were soldiers for the Prime! Did you all think we would settle for being your pets for the rest of our lives?"

"Megatron, could have executed you."

"No, love," Jazz corrected. "Megatron should have executed me. Failure to do that was his last great mistake. Now stop wasting my time, and get me through that door or I'll do this again."

Soundwave didn't even have a chance to ask what again before Jazz snapped one of the finer struts in Laserbeak's wing in half. Soundwave swallowed back his anguish and struggled to hang onto his composure.

"Jazz, advised against going deeper. The result, perhaps more than you expect."

"You've been down here before?"

"Once, with Megatron. You will not like what you find."

"Then I'll take care of that when it happens, like I always do. Now get on with it."


"On Earth, what happened? Why did Jazz decline to shoot me?"

It was the first time either of them had spoken in over a breem, walking in cold silence. Jazz looked at him with only blank surprise on his visor. "Well that's obvious, isn't it? Laserbeak was out there in the jungle, getting fed a fake video by Hound. How was she going to get back to Cybertron and share it with Megatron without you?"

"This reason, logical," Soundwave agreed. "But Jazz, where was music? What human song was playing in your mind to represent such careful, tricky plans? Soundwave was there, and no music in your head to be found. Jazz's thoughts blank, confused." Smugly he watched comprehension filtering into Jazz's expression, followed by a flash of nearly-invisible panic. "Perhaps Jazz knew I must be allowed to live. But in that moment, Jazz saved me instinctively, without thinking at all. And this, you knew. You panicked. For the first time, Jazz forced to contemplate that perhaps some feelings real -"

"Shut up!" Unexpectedly Jazz slammed the butt of his blaster handle against the wall, and the loud rattle echoed in the halls around them. "It was a lie, Soundwave. Get it through your head, it was always a lie. Everything I ever did, or said, or made you feel, was all part of an act designed to distract and use you. Not one part of it was real, not even a little. Do you understand that?"

"This much understood: Jazz, excellent liar."

A little of the haughty anger eased out of Jazz's face, and he bowed his head in thanks for the compliment. Soundwave wasn't finished, though. "Other Autobots, not excellent liars."

"Say what?"

"In Shockwave's home, when they discovered your deceptions, Autobots putting on act of anger? No, they are not such talented liars as Jazz. Autobots, genuinely angry at you."

"That's really not any of your business, Soundwave."

"Autobots, still hate Jazz?"

"They follow my orders, and that's good enough for now. After we're free, I doubt they'll still be holding onto any of those grudges."

"And if they are," Soundwave pressed mercilessly. "Was it worth it? Lying to those who trust you? Using those closest to you as tools and pawns?"

"For freedom," Jazz assured him, "anything is worth it."

"What good is freedom if you are alone? Jazz, speaking truth earlier: you haven't found what you're looking for. You will not find it in this escape."

"Don't talk like you know what I want! Don't talk like you've ever had to be a slave - twice. All I ever wanted in this life was to be my own boss, own my own nightspot so I could dance whenever I wanted. Maybe have a little illegal black market trading in the backroom. But Megatron ruined that dream for me, so now I'll ruin his."

"I will not let you."

"Soundwave, you've already lost. Can't you see that? Did you call Starscream?"

"Query, not understood."

"When you had your little a-ha! moment, when you realized he was innocent. Did you call him?"

Soundwave hesitated, remembering again that strange comm received in the middle of the night. "Course you didn't," Jazz added, misinterpreting his silence. "Because you know that he already knows he's innocent. But is he burning out the comm channels trying to call and explain? Trying to defend himself? No, he's not. Starscream knows an opportunity when one drops out of the sky. Public favor was already on his side, all he needed was the right reason to break away and declare himself independent. And half the planet follows. It doesn't matter what you say now, it doesn't matter who you tell; Starscream is done working for Megatron. Which is just as well since Megatron is soon to be ash anyway - him and his pathetic one-eyed paper pusher."

Jazz smirked, and Soundwave ignored it. "And me?"

"What?"

"Jazz, named Autobots' targets. Constructicons, Megatron, Shockwave, all critical to existence of Decepticon Empire. But Soundwave and cassettes, equally critical. Team supplies all surveillance and reconaissance; without us, Decepticons blind. Logically, Autobots should consider me a threat and target me as well."

"Well, we didn't. For what you did- for what you tried to do for Blaster's cassettes, you get to live."

"This, Jazz's decision?"

"Don't read too much into it, my love. I'm only a monster when I have to be, and I don't have any interest in letting your brats die the same miserable long death that the cassettibots did. And Starscream will treat you right. He's smart enough to know he'll need you if he wants to run this planet even halfway competently."

"And where will Jazz be?"

"Why? Gonna write?"

"Because I will hunt you and find you," Soundwave answered matter-of-factly. Jazz nearly tripped over his own pedes at that, and hastily backed away when Soundwave rounded on him. "Jazz, thinks to be first possession that has run away? Ravage, attempted to run three times during first vorn of ownership. Soundwave tracked him, recaptured him, and returned him home every time until he accepted his place. I will do same for you, because you belong to me."

He had the satisfaction of watching Jazz stare up at him, nervous fear blanching away the color from the edges of his visor, before his slave tried to cover it all up with a flippant smile.

"Well… that all sounds like another splendid game for you to lose. But it's going to have to wait until we're done here, when I've gotten what I came for and sweet fucking Primus another floor down?" So said because Soundwave had just led him to the next stairwell down into the gloom. The engine in his chest snarled with frustration and he stamped a pede against the ancient floor. "Are you kidding me? How deep did Megatron have to bury his failure?"

"Jazz, very close now."

"I hope, my darling Soundwave, that you haven't been dishonest at all about where we're going? I hope that very much, for Laserbeak's sake."

"Soundwave, not the dishonest mech here."

"No, you're just the saint who would have kept me chained to your berth for the rest of my life, or at least until Megatron got in the mood for another threesome. Are you waiting for something? Down the steps, now."

"Soundwave, waiting for Jazz to acknowledge truth for reason in not shooting me on Earth."

"I will shoot you now if that's what you really want! Do you think I won't?"

"Soundwave, can only draw conclusions based on former behavior."

"You are such a smug, snotty piece of -" An odd look crossed Jazz's face and he bit the words off mid-sentence. "Do you hear that?"

"Jazz, must be exhausted. Uncommon for you to repeat one joke in same night."

"No, I mean it: do you hear that?" He lapsed into silence long enough that Soundwave realized he could hear it, though it was far from clear what 'it' was. Distant, tinny echoes filtered from somewhere above their heads, like something scraping itself through the walls. Alarmed, Jazz took a long step back from Soundwave and kept his blaster aimed at his chest, audials almost twitching in effort to track the noise. If he wasn't expecting an Autobot down here, then Soundwave allowed a little hope to kindle within him. Maybe, just maybe, Shockwave or one of the Constructicons had made their way here, maybe help was coming after all. But it didn't sound like charging Decepticon soldiers. The bangs and rattles were getting louder, rapidly so, and the crack of breaking metal was so loud that Soundwave almost expected the ceiling overhead to cave in.

Jazz obviously thought so too, gaze flicking anxiously upward before hastily refocusing on Soundwave again. "Go on, move," he hissed, and this time Soundwave let himself be herded down the first few steps. Then they both jumped when a loud yell split the silence, the vent grating above the stairwell exploded outward and something shot out of the shaft in a blur. It hit Jazz first, who collided with Soundwave and all of them tumbled down the stairs in a series of painful bumps and crushed limbs. The moment his thoughts caught up Soundwave's first one was for Laserbeak, and he scrambled to find her. She'd sprawled across the landing, her wing awkwardly bent but otherwise miraculously unharmed, the scalpel dropped elsewhere. Jazz saw her too. He'd been knocked farther, rolled past all of them, but he hadn't lost his gun. In the half of an astrosec that it took for Soundwave to reach out, Jazz pulled up into a crouch and aimed it straight at her head.

Soundwave froze, wondering. Would he really? Would he pull that trigger and put a lasershot in her tiny cranium, would he kill her? Would he do it knowing Soundwave would kill him afterwards? Because he would, and surely Jazz must know that, but Jazz didn't seem to mind too much right now. He was easing the trigger back into firing mode, preparing to shoot. Jazz was ready to risk her death and his own to win this game, and Soundwave was not. Laserbeak was something he could not afford to lose.

Soundwave raised himself up onto his knees, hands held upward in tacit surrender. Jazz was relieved, he could tell; his vents opened wider and his visor deepened a shade, but he was nice enough to not taunt Soundwave over it. He merely clicked the blaster back into safety mode.

"Uh, sorry," mumbled the heap that brought on the whole mess. A mech with red plating, some of it garishly painted with tacky flame decals, stopped rubbing his dented helm and stared at the both of them. "Did I, um, interrupt something?"


Disclaimer: I do not own these characters