Age of Smoke Part 1: The Autobot Code

Chapter 37: Tough Calls

"We will not consider an alliance with you unless you come speak with us in person," the grand councilmech said again. "We want to be certain we can understand and trust one another."

Optimus wished this mech were telling the truth. He wished he could explain that under normal circumstances he would be happy to travel to their city-state and meet with them, but they had decided they didn't want the Pescus Hex Council to know the Autobots had been spying on them.

"I am afraid I cannot leave Iacon at this time," Optimus said. "I apologize. If we cannot come to an agreement this way, then please know that, should you need assistance in defending yourselves from the Decepticons, we will always be happy to help."

The mech looked frustrated, almost desperate.

"If you won't come meet with us, we will ally ourselves with the Decepticons."

Optimus looked down. "That is not necessary. If you would like to meet in person, you would be welcome here on our base."

"That… that will not be possible," the mech said. "If you were truly, as you profess, interested in an alliance with us, you would come meet with us in person."

"I am sorry."

"Then we demand that you come, as the Prime."

Optimus wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that. His oath to the Council came to the front of his processor. They truly could make that sort of demand if they wanted to, though they probably didn't know it.

"I am sorry," he said again. "I cannot comply with your request at this time. I am also uncertain why you are so insistent on my coming there. Is there some reason I am unaware of?"

He waited, hoping the mech would confide in him, knowing that they must be desperate.

Prowl and his department had come up with a plan to defend the city. Optimus could assure this mech that not all was lost. If the Councilmecha would only tell him about their plan to hand him over to the Decepticons, he could help them.

"No," the Councilmech said. "I believe we have explained the situation to you thoroughly. And since you continue to refuse, I don't believe we have anything further to talk about."

"Know that I will always be willing to speak with you," Optimus said.

"Noted," the Councilmech said. "Know that we are still open to an alliance if you travel here to meet us personally. Good orn, Optimus Prime."

The screen went blank.

Elita came over to stand at his side.

He could feel her concern for him over the bond, though he knew she couldn't comfort him publicly.

"Optimus," she said.

"Yes?"

"We'll have to word the Autobot Code carefully, to make some things very clear."

He continued to study the blank screen, waiting for her to continue.

"Our first responsibility—our purpose as an army—is to defend the lives and rights of all Cybertronians—Autobot, Decepticon, and Neutral."

Optimus nodded.

"And you, as our leader, cannot cater to one group or subset, which means it would be against the Code to specifically fulfil the wishes of any one Council, especially a corrupt one that is not meeting the needs of its citizens."

Optimus looked down at her, to see her frowning thoughtfully. It was true—if they wrote things carefully in the Autobot Code, it would excuse him from his oath to the Councils until the war was over. It seemed like a good way to escape from the consequences of that decision.

But it felt dishonest.

"I will consider that," Optimus said.

"Perhaps we can discuss it in private," Elita said.

"Yes," Optimus agreed. "But for now, I would like some time to think."

"Of course," Elita said. "Let me know when you want my help with the Code."

"Thank you," Optimus said, then turned and left the conference room so he could go back to his office.

Sideswipe un-shuttered his optics and stared up at the blank ceiling above him. He could tell Sunstreaker was somewhere nearby, so he wasn't too worried, though… hadn't they been in a battle?

He felt all right, though.

But when he shifted and tried to sit up, a spike of pain tore through his midsection.

"Hey!" Sunstreaker said. "Cut that out."

Sideswipe lay back down and the pain faded to a dull ache. "What happened? Someone ran me through, right? Where are we now?"

"Torus Heights," Sunstreaker said. "You were stable so they decided to bring you even though you hadn't woken up yet."

"Is… are all the others here too?

"Yeah," Sunstreaker said, and Sideswipe picked up a distinct sense of annoyance from him.

"What?"

Sunstreaker shrugged.

"I think they're cool," Sideswipe said.

"That yellow one is fragging irritating, though," Sunstreaker said. "You know, he kept the blade you got stabbed with. He's going to want to show it to you. It's not a normal blade."

"Huh," Sideswipe said. "Cool. And yeah, I guess he's a little annoying. But at least he's good at fighting. You know, I'm feeling pretty good about this whole situation. I didn't even want to wander off during that battle."

"We weren't there very long," Sunstreaker said. "And at least in the normal units we weren't treated like sparklings."

"Whatever," Sideswipe said and resisted the temptation to try to sit up again. "So, what was unusual about the blade?"

"It extends."

"What?"

Sunstreaker sighed. "The blade…"

The door opened, cutting him off, and a yellow helm poked in. "Hey," Hot Shot said. "I heard you talking. Figured you might be online."

"Yeah," Sideswipe said. "Sunstreaker was just starting to tell me about the blade. He said you kept it."

"Oh, yeah," Hot Shot said, and pulled a short blade out of subspace.

"Um…" Sideswipe said.

There was no way that thing had gone all the way through him.

"Watch," Hot Shot did something with the handle, and the blade suddenly snapped out, expanding and transforming into a nasty-looking, barbed sword.

"Aw, slag," Sideswipe said. "That's cool."

"You want it?" Hot Shot asked. "You earned it."

"Slag, yeah," Sideswipe said.

"You're lucky we didn't try to pull it out. It went right through your tanks and you'd have leaked to death if it hadn't been blocking the flow."

Hot Shot brought the sword over and handed it to Sideswipe who checked the handle over. "How do you make it…"

"It twists," Hot Shot showed him and Sideswipe turned the handle in respect to the blade, which made it shrink down to its previous size. "I think it uses subspace somehow. So, you mechs doing okay? I don't think you've got any responsibilities yet."

"Were fine, thanks," Sunstreaker said. "And you can leave now."

Hot Shot looked a little shocked. "Sorry," he said. "No offense meant. I'll see you mechs around."

He retreated from the room.

"You're a glitch, Sunny. You know that, right?"

Sunstreaker didn't respond.

Sideswipe played with the blade, twisting it back and forth between knife mode and sword mode. "I'm bored."

"So put yourself in stasis. You still need to heal and I don't want to have to take you to a medic here."

"I can't put myself in stasis, definitely not when you're online, you know that. Hey, did you pass out when I did?"

Sunstreaker didn't answer.

"Sunny?"

"Yes," Sunstreaker said. "Briefly."

"So that can still happen. I wonder why it does sometimes, but not others."

"I wasn't ready for it, but you also weren't in immediate danger," Sunstreaker said. "So my protective protocols didn't override the shut-down."

"Ah… I see you've thought that through."

"If you really want, I can put you back in stasis," Sunstreaker growled threateningly.

Sideswipe sighed. Apparently his brother wasn't in the mood for friendly conversation. That was unfortunate. Being injured was so boring.

"They repaired me all the way, right? So I just have to wait for all the welding to set and everything to integrate.

"Yep."

"So like… an orn?"

"I don't know."

Sideswipe sighed again and studied the barbed blade he'd been stabbed with. "You know, this thing's a pretty bad idea. You can totally frag someone up with it, but then you don't get it back… guess if you twist it, it'll shrink again, but what's the point of all the hooks if not to keep it in someone."

"If you stick it in them and then pull it out, it'll probably kill them," Sunstreaker said. "Or you could pin someone to a wall with it and then activate the hooks, and it'll keep them there."

"Oh," Sideswipe said. "True… but if you do that, you still lose the sword. It's a one use sort of thing, and then someone else has it."

Sunstreaker didn't respond.

It was going to be a long orn.

Councilor Perch looked up at the black screen. They had debated for an entire orn, but there was no solving this problem, no way to deliver on the promise. They should have waited to have Senator Reef contact Megatron until they were assured they could capture Optimus Prime.

And now all they could do was wait.

He got a comm. from his secretary. "Megatron is trying to contact us, sir."

Perch nodded in resignation. "We will speak to him."

The screen lit up and after a moment it displayed the warlord himself, sitting on some sort of throne.

"Well," Megatron said. "I hear you wanted to speak with me. Do you have what we agreed on?"

"No," Perch said. "But we are hoping we could have some more time."

"My troops are mobilizing as we speak. You had five orns, Councilor. I'm a mech of my word, when it suits me."

Perch hated that he had to beg. "Please," he said. "Is there some other way? Is there anything we can offer you in return for the safety of the city?"

"You have two options," Megatron said. "You can either beg the Autobots for protection, or you can surrender your city to me, unconditionally."

The second option would mean certain death for the Council. The first option... well, it might save them, but it wasn't a sure thing. And it was possible the Autobots would refuse to help.

"Thank you," Perch said, and reached for the button to turn off the comm. but Megatron spoke again before he could do so.

"You must decide now. I don't have time for another conference. This is the only time I will extend this offer. Surrender your city to me. I'll be there by the end of the orn to welcome you into my empire. Otherwise you can expect the entire place to be burned to the ground within the decaorn."

Perch looked down.

"We should surrender," One of the others said. "Councilor Perch."

He looked around at the others on the Council. Some few of them would probably be willing to sacrifice themselves for the mecha of the city. But even for those who weren't... they had plenty of time before the Decepticon army showed up. "Very well. It has been motioned that we meet Lord Megatron's demands and surrender unconditionally. All in favor?"

Hands went up. Significantly more than enough hands.

Perch looked back at Megatron. "There is your answer. We offer you an unconditional surrender. We will have it documented by the time of your arrival."

Megatron didn't bother trying to hide his smirk. "I look forward to seeing you then."

And then the screen went black.

Instantly the room filled with nervous chatter.

Perch stood, and the others all fell silent as attention was directed toward him.

"We will adjourn for now," he said. "There are many things we must see to."

He commed his secretary on the way out the door, shoving past the other fleeing councilmechs, ignoring the protests of those few who hadn't figured it out yet.

"Yes, Councilor," she said

"Get me a one-way groundbridge ticket."

"Where to, your honor?"

"Anywhere. Somewhere safe. Kalis or Altihex."

"…Very well, sir. I'll do that. When would you like to leave?"

He could hear the hesitation in her voice. She knew he was running away. But he didn't care. The time for decorum and caution was past. When Megatron came, he would slaughter the Council, and Perch wanted nothing to do with that.

"As soon as possible," he said. "Make it twenty breems."

"I'll do that, your honor," she said, and he cut the comm. and left the Council Hall to collect a few personal belongings on the way to the groundbridge station.

Jazz could tell something was wrong before they entered the small apartment. He hesitated.

Blurr shot him a questioning look.

"Why don't ya let me go in first?" Jazz said.

Blurr nodded, and Jazz approached the door to open it. It was a cheaper apartment, with swinging, non-automatic doors, and they were two levels down below the surface of the city.

This shady neighborhood was a good place to hide, but not necessarily a good place to get information about Decepticon troop movements, as life for mecha in this part of the city hadn't changed much since the Decepticons had taken over.

The small apartment was empty. Jazz checked everywhere someone might hide, but there was nothing, so he commed Blurr to come in.

The light blue noblemech looked around the small room. "You think they might just have lost communication or something?"

Jazz knelt on a cleaner patch of the dingy floor. "Interesting."

Blurr frowned at him. "What?"

"Smells like solvent… whoever cleaned this didn't quite get all the energon up, though."

"…what does that mean?" Blurr asked, hushed.

"Probably nothing good…ah, see that?" He pointed at the wall where a camera could be mistaken for a small rust spot.

"What?" Blurr said.

"Lock the door." Jazz told him.

He did so, then turnd around. "Wait…why?"

"This is a trap," Jazz said, then commed him. "Don't talk out loud no more, they probably have microphones, so in this case comms are actually safer. I bet they're waiting outside for us to come back out."

"So what do we do?" Blurr asked.

"Gotta make another door," Jazz said, and got out a small explosive charge, which he stuck to the wall. "I'm gonna set this off ta make a hole in the wall, and then in the smoke, we're gonna go up through the ceiling."

"What?" Blurr said.

"They'll be real confused," Jazz said. "They'll start spreadin' out and looking for us. We can watch from a couple floors up, then snag one of 'em while the others aren't lookin' Maybe we'll even find a mech up there who was watchin' the street, looking for us."

Blurr still looked a little confused. "But how do you know there's anyone out there?"

Something crashed into the door.

Jazz grinned at the other mech. "Cover your faceplate."

He detonated the bomb.

The blast threw him back against the opposite wall. Hopefully it had enough force to blow through—with how rusty this building was, that was pretty likely.

Smoke filled the atmosphere and Jazz pushed off the wall and jumped up to activate the trapdoor in the ceiling. It slid away and a ladder dropped silently.

Blurr stumbled forward, coughing.

"Go!" Jazz said, for the benefit of any microphones. "Out the hole that made in the wall."

Blurr climbed the ladder and Jazz followed and then hit the button on the inside of the secret door to close it again.

They were in a dark apartment—the one just above the one they'd blown a hole in.

"Do all the places we stay in have secret exits like that?"

"No," Jazz said. "And most mecha don't know about the ones that do. I've just been in this one before and noticed it—it was there before we bought the place. Come on, let's go up another two or three floors and see if we can figure out what they're doing now."

He led the way quietly out into the hallway and up the stairs.

"You know," Blurr said. "This is more what I had in mind when I signed up to be a spy."

"Good," Jazz said. "Glad ya get ta live your dreams."

"Except for the part where I'll probably be picking shrapnel out of my joints for decaorns."

"Explosions'll do that," Jazz said, and hacked the lock on an apartment door, then pushed it open.

"How do you know no one lives here?" Blurr trailed off as the door opened, revealing blank walls and an empty room.

"Sign outside listed mecha who lived here, and where," Jazz muttered out loud. "This one had a blank slot by it."

He walked over to the window and looked down. "There, see?"

A couple of mecha stood by the outside door of the apartment complex. They probably had mecha on the door that led into the hall as well.

"Keep an optic on those two," Jazz went and closed the door behind Blurr, then locked it. "I'm gonna try and hack their comm. frequency."

"I never know what I'm doing when I go on missions with you," Blurr said.

"Some orn, ya'll be able ta keep up," Jazz said. "Just takes experience. Ya're making pretty quick progress." He pulled a small device from subspace. He had always been interested in keeping track of things, and finding clever ways to trace and hack.

In secondary school, he'd figured out how to make a proximity sensor that picked up spark energy signatures. He'd used it to warn his friends when there were teachers around. Once he had a comm. he'd started messing with that too, and he'd discovered a way to isolate nearby comms so he could hack them.

In half a breem, he was listening to the conversation below.

"…still haven't seen them anywhere. It's like they just disappeared…"

"Could they still be in the building?"

"If they are... we were watching all the exits, but they aren't in here anymore... I don't know."

"Well there was smoke. You can't really see for a few astroseconds."

"If you want me to have someone search the building I can. I've already had them search the apartment and it's empty."

"Have someone search the building and everyone else can spread out and search the neighborhood. If they've already gotten away, there's not much we can do about it, but we should make sure."

"Got it."

Jazz listened as the mech sent instructions to seven others.

There had been eight, then. Frag, they'd been pretty serious about this whole trap thing.

One mech was sent into the building.

Jazz commed Blurr. "Hey, mech, someone might knock on the door in a breem or two, and we're gonna let him in."

Blurr took in a deep vent and let it out again.

"I'll knock him out," Jazz said. "You can help with the talkin' though, if you want."

Blurr looked uncertain.

Pit, all of Jazz's mecha were so soft...

Maybe that was good.

It meant Jazz sometimes had to do all the work, though.

He went over and knelt by the wall, pulling out a small gun. He made sure it was on stun, then leaned against the wall, shuttering his optics and listening for someone coming up the stairs.

"So," Jazz said quietly. "I'm gonna be kneeling behind ya, and I want ya ta open the door, but stay outta the way, cuz I don't want ta shoot ya on accident or anything."

Blurr nodded.

Half a breem later, Jazz heard someone coming up the stairs and moved so he was kneeling directly in front of the door, far enough away that Blurr had plenty of space to move around, but not so far that he might miss.

Blurr took up a post right by the door.

"On my signal," Jazz said over the comm.

The doorknob jiggled and then there was a knock.

"Now."

Blurr opened the door, using it to shield himself as he stepped out of the way. Jazz fired and hit the mech in the faceplate, then lunged forward to grab him as he fell, catching him so he didn't hit the ground and make a loud noise.

He dragged the mech into the apartment and set him down. "Shut and lock the door."

He waited for Blurr to finish, then cautiously set the unconscious mech down. and studied his surroundings. The walls were pretty thin in this place. If they woke the mech up and he yelled, the mecha outside might hear. Maybe they should have gone up another level.

"Blurr, will ya see if there's anywhere in the apartment that's internal, with no walls ta the outside."

Blurr nodded and left the room.

Jazz got out a pair of stasis cuffs and cuffed the unconscious mech, leaving them on the lowest setting to avoid waking him up. The insignia on his shoulder marked him as Kaon enforcement, and he had a small Decepticon insignia under that.

Jazz continued to monitor the comms in case the mech was asked to give a status report.

Blurr came back in. "There's a smaller internal room. I'm not sure if it'll really block the sound that well..."

"Should be good enough," Jazz said.

"So… how exactly do we get out of this? They'll be searching the nearby area for us."

"They'll be split up," Jazz said. "We can take these goons split up, no problem. We'll even get a head start if we snipe that one out the window and then run for it."

Blurr tilted his helm to the side.

"What? I can see ya thinking."

"Can we… jump out the window?"

Jazz smirked. "Sure, why not. Saves time, unless ya break your ankle, in which case I'm leavin' ya behind. Here, help me carry this mech inta the other room."

They picked up the unconscious mech and carried him into the next room over, where there was nothing, not even a berth.

"Okay," Jazz said. "Lemme show ya something' Stasis cuffs are kinda named wrong. I guess if ya're a youngling or somethin' they can put ya in stasis, but they're better for waking mecha up. If ya have 'em on the lowest setting and turn 'em ta the highest real fast…"

He demonstrated. The mech gasped and tried to sit up, but Jazz held him down. At that setting, the cuffs would make it difficult to talk or move, which was good.

"Hey, friend," Jazz said. "Can ya hear me?"

The mech stared at him with wide, frightened optics.

Good. Scared was good. "I said," He leaned in a little closer. "Can ya hear me? Answer me."

"Yes," the mech gasped. "Don't…"

"Don't what?" Jazz said. "Look, I ain't got any intention of hurtin' ya, so long as ya answer a couple of questions."

"You… Autobot…"

"Yeah, somethin' like that," Jazz said. "Why were ya watchin this place? Ya were watchin' for us, right?"

The mech nodded slightly, with a grimace.

"So what happened ta the mecha who were in that apartment before? The other Autobots?"

"Don't… hurt me."

"If ya tell me—and tell me the truth," Jazz said. "I promise I won't. Otherwise, I can't give any guarantees."

"The… stasis… cuffs."

"Yeah, I know that ain't comfortable. I'll turn 'em down a bit once ya've answered my question."

"Where…"

"Hey, look," Jazz said, leaning forward, pressing the mech into the ground. "I ain't got time ta play games. What happened ta the other Autobots who were in this building before? Were they captured? Killed?"

The mech whimpered. "One… one of them was killed. I don't… don't know where the other one is, I swear!"

Jazz studied him for a few astroseconds. He could feel the mech trembling.

"Okay," he said. "Lucky you, I believe ya. Here." He reached down and turned the stasis cuffs down a little, and the mech relaxed, shuttering his optics.

"Chloride, repeat," the leader said over the comm. "Have you found anything in the building?"

Jazz pulled out his gun and stunned the guard again, then took the stasis cuffs off of him.

"Are we going?" Blurr asked.

"Yep," Jazz said. "let's go."

Blurr followed him to the front room and Jazz went over to the window and looked down, but the mech who'd been standing by the door was gone.

"Ya ready?" he said. "If ya get a head start, ya can transform on the way down,"

"I know," Blurr said. "I can do it. I did do some obstacle racing before the war, you know."

"Oh yeah." Jazz slid the window open.

"My creators were so disappointed in me—playing commoner sports."

Jazz backed up. "I assume ya won't have a problem keeping up then." He rushed the window and leaped through, transforming in the air and spinning his wheels, preparing for impact.

He hit hard, but not hard enough to hurt himself, and drove off down the street. After a few astrosecond, he heard Blurr's engine behind him and sped up. The mechs who'd been trying to catch them sent comms back and forth, alerting each other that Jazz and Blurr had been spotted and what direction they were going.

But it wasn't hard to lose them.

Jazz slowed down after a while and Blurr followed his lead as he took them into a quiet alleyway and transformed back into root mode.

"So," Jazz said. "Was that the first time ya jumped out a window?"

"Well, yes," Blurr said with a slight smile.

Jazz shook his helm. "Gotta remember that one. I should put it in the training Mainspring and I are making up for new recruits."

"You're going to train them to jump out windows?"

"It's a necessary skill," Jazz said.

Silence fell.

"So," Blurr said. "Our mecha."

"Right," Jazz said.

One dead, one captured and possibly dead as well. And they'd probably have taken any Autobot spies to the Decepticon base, which meant if Jazz wanted to look for his mech, he'd have to risk Soundwave catching him.

"One of them could still be online," Blurr said.

"I know," Jazz replied. "Pit, if they recognized me on those cameras, they might already have Soundwave lookin' for me. It ain't safe ta be here…"

Blurr looked down.

"What?"

"Last time I insisted on rescuing someone, and he died anyway… and I nearly got Mirage killed as well. How do you… How do you make that call? Where do you draw the line and say it's too dangerous?"

Jazz wasn't sure he had an answer for that. "Ya know," he said at length. "Raj' felt real guilty for not wanting ta go back and you felt guilty for goin' back. Sometimes there ain't a right answer. Some mecha'll tell ya it's better ta cut your losses, and others'll preach about loyalty and the value of every life. Either way ya lose somethin'. Either way ya put somethin' in danger."

"So… what do we do in this case?"

"Well, ya're goin' home," Jazz said. "I'll handle the rest of this on my own. I came here ta find out what happened ta my mecha, and I don't intend ta fail that mission."

Blurr looked hesitant.

"And that's an order, mech. Get out ta the pick-up spot and comm. for a groundbridge. Let 'Raj know I'll check in in six joors."

"Yes, sir," Blurr said.

"And comm. me if ya have any trouble," Jazz said. "This place ain't safe."

The light blue mech nodded, folded neatly down into his alt mode, and drove off.

Jazz stood for a few breems, thinking.

Enforcement. The trap had been set by enforcement. And it might be a little different in Kaon, but most of the time enforcement was pretty good at keeping records, especially when they were proud of what they were doing, like when they caught criminals or spies.

He looked up where the nearest enforcement station was, transformed, and drove in that direction.