::Can you explain the reasoning behind Jazz staying in med bay? Other than him being stubborn? And why Prime authorized complete system shutdown if he turns violent? Prime never authorized that on Ironhide when Chromia nearly crashed. And they are full spark mates:: Ratchet disputed over the medical comm line, closing out the day's reports. Only Bluestreak remained under his medical care, needing wiring to his new leg stubs with Solspark early release conditional on charging enough to risk returning the Matrix to her. Ratchet wanted to keep her another half orn but professionally knew her stress level would never allow it. And putting up with Jazz invading his work area for that long would aggravate him to no end.
::His word choice. Abandon:: Prowl relayed, glad the medic could not see his expression as the former enforcer reviewed case files. A mix of pride and sorrow over the accomplishments he and Jazz had achieved, many classified for good reason from the rest of the crew.
::And?:: Ratchet prodded, still not correlating why he got special treatment.
::Last recorded use was his team storming the Decepticon base on Alpha Nine Six. Jazz refused to abandon Mirage, disobeying a direct order to rescue him while destroying the base and offlining nine warrior class Decepticons:: Prowl stated.
::That still does not explain:: Ratchet began snarking.
::Team of two. Jazz and myself. I freed Mirage and evacuated. He took the rest out:: Prowl
::Are you trying to tell me that by himself?:: Ratchet sputtered, hard to reconcile the image of the jovial white armored mech with the image presented. Stubborn yes but that deadly?
::Yes. Do not underestimate him. You have never seen what he is truly capable of. Prime and I have:: Prowl.
Across med bay, Jazz grinned. His position as head of the Special Operations unit meant inside information, including restricted channel codes for medical and the highest command ranks. Officially he was not authorized to have them or the command clearance to hear certain items while listening in. If Prowl suspected, he had never mentioned it directly and that meant Prime and Ironhide had no idea. The rescue mission on Alpha Nine Six one Jazz wanted to forget. Not often he lost control but when he did, his enemies paid the price with their sparks. And only Prowl would have correlated both times with the word abandon.
A warning flashed across his visor, another attempt to infiltrate med bay records, specifically his and Solspark. 'Using what I taught you, but not good enough Skids.' Cyber codes wrapped around the firewall, diverting the attempt into lectures on human superstitions and odd beliefs. 'Liking your enthusiasm to find out details, but I'm the boss for a reason,' he chuckled. 'Four attempts by Skids, three by Mirage, seven by Bumblebee and a grand total of thirty-two by other mechs. Never knew I was so popular.'
The sounds of hard venting and rustling metal had him moving instantly, touching helms and grabbing her working arm.:: I am here. You are safe. Rest. I am here Solspark. You are not alone. Safe. I am holding you. Know me:: Jazz sent, laying his frame gently across hers to reassure, not pin her down.
::Jazz!:: Solspark
His spark fluttering with hearing the desperation, feeling her reaching for him like a drowning bot. No other mech or femme had ever said his name that way, wrapping it in pure need.
::Where? I can't see!:: Solspark fought her own systems, trying to focus.
:: You were injured. I am here. Rest. You are safe:: Jazz sent, holding her as medical overlays took her back into deep recharge. The decision to offline her optics, preventing her recognition of med bay until repair systems stabilized had been his idea. Not a deception but protection though her panicking every time made it hard for him to feel it was the right decision. A glance up and Ratchet nodded, pulling the coding injector out of her other arm, repaired except for attaching the outer armor. A deep scan confirmed her face plates had never suffered a branding glyph and her personality profile while damaged and incomplete, cleared of trauma for the orns medics were targeted and disabled.
"Not a victim of Starscream and his seekers at least," Ratchet had approved.
"Just those who should have protected her the most on our side," Jazz's answer. Returning to his waiting, processes ran of how best to start training her, officially adding her to the Operations team and under his command the first night. "How soon until she is released?"
"Same answer as last time. When her power level stays above ninety five percent. I should keep her past that but her needs also factor into recovery time," Ratchet stated. "Why? Afraid you will become Jazzimus Prime?"
"Funny Doc." He tapped his striped chest plates. "Bright and shiny and sitting all quiet, must not find me that interesting."
"Unlike your team who keeps trying to hack my medical records."
"Seriously? Must speak to them about that. Doing their job to find out information and all," the spy quipped back.
"Apply that much enthusiasm to completing her care or I will find out and grab you both back here, with one of you being welded to the ceiling. That does meet the definition of being allowed to stay and stay out of my way," Ratchet threatened.
"Got it in one."
Two days later Jazz sent the final medical packet to Ratchet, Solspark recharging quietly in his room and the Matrix settled inside its new containment chamber, incandescent and no longer drawing on her spark. The attempt to keep in her quarters a bust with her restless and uneasy the first joor. The traffic on the fourth floor outside her room heavy as most of the other Autobots had rooms there and agitated him guarding. He had conferred with Ratchet, intending to move her to his room without making a scene later that night. The fact his Ops team arrived with a medical carrier, unofficially borrowed and the hallway cleared for the room shift appreciated but not requested. "Monitoring me?"
"Welcoming our newest member," Mirage explained.
Jazz letting the excuse slide, filing a reminder to create a better sounding official reason later. Not many would accept it, knowing her injuries in the rockfall should have kept her locked in med bay. Sunstreaker safe in the brig though if he or any under his command had really wanted to, banished from his processing. She mattered. Watching Solspark recharge on his bunk, he began redesigning his room. The wide bunk needing to be two for them to both rest. Her possessions few and accommodated across one of his counter spaces, once he cleared enough to find its surface. Soon she would online, full restore and be cleared for duty and a full-time part of his life. Her secrets now greater than his and he had a feeling his newest recruit would not object to remaining close, despite the challenges of him being command over her. If not, and he was wrong she could bunk where she wanted including her old room, her strength proven. Solspark saving Bluestreak, part of his unit and the only other survivor from Praxus besides Prowl a courageous act. 'More a Prime than she knows.'
Inside Optimus' office the heated discussion between spark mates continued.
"Elita, I am not asking that," Optimus stated, both hands flat on his desktop. His battle mask engaged, the only sign of his frustration.
"Not in so many words," the rose-colored femme held up a hand. His mate for centuries, not even him screaming holding a weapon would cause her to back down from what she felt was right. "Asking Solspark how committed she is to Jazz is a violation of their privacy. I would not ask that of any femme as a commander or a friend. Their personal relationships are personal unless it endangers all of us. If anything she falls under your sphere of influence because of him."
"Jazz is my Third In Command. I rely on him as much as Prowl or Ironhide. Trust that requires certain acceptances and knowledge," Optimus acknowledged.
"I know his background. Raised at the Allspark Temple for the good of all Cybertron. Never thought they would use spying and sneaking around to keep our world safe. Imagine," she stopped pacing, facing her mate. "Being able to feel the Allspark, communicating directly with the Victor Sigma power source and trained in the deadliest of attacks."
Optimus vented, hanging his head with his battle mask unclicking and retracting. "He served faithfully once the war began. Spying and doing terrible ops missions in areas only Jazz could infiltrate. Stealing, removing threats and never losing his hope or wild personality. No femme or mech could match what he is or has experienced. I do not want to add to his suffering with her past."
"We have all suffered in this war. You, me and them. Is letting them keep secrets wrong? When and if Solspark declares herself a Prime publicly then we can consider action. Jazz responds well to change and improvisation and it's about time he found some bot other than Prowl to rely on. Not to sound like Ratchet but let healing happen over time and see where this road leads."
Inside his quarters down on the fifth floor, Jazz leaned next to her, half bracing on the floor and half on the berth edge. "Deserve? Did you just ask me what you did to deserve my care?" He chuckled, tracing glyphs across the top sheet with a square finger.
"I meant that in a good way," Solspark teased, trying to be serious as she reclined with her feet dangling over the berth edge like a youngling. Her frame and spark felt whole and fully charged, onlining in his room a welcome surprise.
"May you get what you deserve is the human's way of cursing," he explained.
"I was referring to the fact I am in your private quarters, injured and you have never left my side. More than," she continued before bowing her head in embarrassment, then smiling as his hand raised her helm to look directly into her optics.
"Never process you are not deserving of more. And I have an open position to fill. Any chance you know where I can find a femme devious, good at trading info and able to hide advanced skill sets?" He shifted to stand up straight, pretending to contemplate her.
"No idea but if I see any bot like that I will send her your way, maybe." Her expression changed for an instant, slight frown, burrowing of her optics arches and narrowing of optics.
Jazz smirked, recognizing the subtle signs of jealousy. "No femmes allowed to stay in here except you sweet spark. Never have been, don't plan to. This can be our quarters now. Don't give me that look. I know my reputation."
"Earned?"
Jazz grinned at her, his visor rippling with blue energy side to side. "Anonymity is a spy's first protection. If I'm not around, the excuse of being busy on my berth covers all questions. Doesn't do for me to tell them I'm out gathering information they can't know about. Being anonymous means you are plain, ordinary and fit right in no one considers ya a threat. White paint job with color striping but nothing flashy. My visor hides my optics and their advanced functions as needed. Take my build," he gestured at himself, from feet pads to the tip of his black helm blocks.
"Standard mech chassis, shorter than most mechs. Hardly a design to be more than what it seems," Solspark commented thoughtfully.
"Is it? Do you know if I were one mark shorter, I would have been classified a scout early on? I got the skills for it but being a bit taller than Hound, beat it all, I'm over the officialized limit. I keep my optics hid and only medics use to know how powerful my spark is. They would pressure me all the time to get a bigger shell, more armor and weaponry but I didn't. Know why? Crawling through air ventilation systems or drinking high grade in interstellar bars looking for information when you are Leader class warrior mech size ain't a good thing. Large build, larger target for large blast holes I say. Training put me into Special Operations when the war began. I met Prowl while he was recovering from the space station debacle of Prime Mechner."
"I have heard rumors about you and Prowl. A team that seems mismatched. He fulfills an administrative role, you do field work," she commented.
"Administrative here on earth. We teamed in the field for most of the war, my rank of First Lieutenant tied to his Military Strategist. Prowl's strength is decision making and planning and his logic saved both our afts and mine more than I care to admit. In return, my sparkling personality keeps him from glitch locking time to time. Our biggest challenge together occurred when Shockwave attacked Iacon before it fell. Prowl ordered all Autobots to leave the city borders, letting drones and automated weaponry hold the walls. We had already evacuated out the historic items vault and the science division projects. He took a critical hit, more bad timing than aimed and went temporarily offline, leaving me in command."
"What did you do?"
"I followed his plan," Jazz stated. His visor went dark as memories replayed. "I watched the evacuating transports clear and medics revived him as the city walls were crumbling. He saved every Autobot and neutral there by ordering a regrouping elsewhere. Starscream used a planetary engine to destroy the entire area as a political move to remove Shockwave, hoping to wipe us out at the same time."
"How did he know?"
"In the way only Prowl could, logic dictated the Decepticons wanted more than the empty city. He recognized we were herded there while Optimus fought elsewhere. A few mechs accused him of cowardice with the first orders to leave. They remained online after to see him promoted to Second In Command under Optimus Prime for his indispensable expertise. We went from being a team to commanding my own unit before leaving Cybertron. You should trust him more," his visor brightened, the soft smile on his face a look for the few he trusted.
"I considered telling him when I first arrived. Made the appointment to ask for help in researching ancient matrixes, conversely Prowl cancelled. It was the day the Decepticons attacked the power plant. I uh, never remade it. Told him the problem had been solved," Solspark admitted sheepishly.
"You spun out and raced away?"
"I did not," she stated firmly. "The problem of what to do solved itself. Leading the battle and returning with wounded, Prime waited until they were all seen in med bay before his own injuries. I heard their comments in the hallway. Comparing his battles with Megatron over time. I can't get an arm plate repaired and he rarely is whole and walking! I can't do what he does."
"He can't do what he does sometimes. You ain't seen him on high grade or tripping over his own feet pads or breaking surfaces with his heavier mass. And Elita One his mate is no slouch. Ask her sometime about the visit to Alpha Trion with Starscream. She saved him. Don't look at me like that. He is Prime not Primus. Training helps as does years of command. You are never limited to only two choices."
"Like being Prime or a broken carrier?"
"How come you never had sparklings?" Jazz seemingly changed the subject, watching closely.
"Why does every mech ask me that? You wouldn't ask another mech that question," she narrowed her optics.
Laughing, Jazz hopped up and shifted against the wall alongside before answering her. "You'd be surprised what I've asked another mech. Even tricked them into revealing or doing."
"Sparklings are too much a commitment issue. For all we can upload data, there are still important things we must teach and learn. I'm not sure I could commit that amount of time and caring to another being. What if they turn out wrong? Become a Decepticon or are messed up processor wise? Do you know how many fields I have trained in? How many times I've changed locations, duties to hide? If I can't choose my path how do I expect to guide an innocent sparkling what to do?"
"Sounds like you'd be a great parent to me. But being a femme makes you no more a spark hatcher or unworthy of combat training. I am spy, Temple guardian, music lover and more. Words and titles cannot define me. Neither should you limit yourself that way. A definition excludes the possibility of change, of growth. And broken means damaged but not destroyed. Fit in with the rest of us. Or at least my team."
"I have no rank," she countered. The old levels earned erased over time or hid, often by her.
"Rank among Autobots is more for the administrative side. There are so few of us left, we take what we can get. An individual's skills count more than titles. Bumblebee is a Scout and Special Operations. He and Hound are used more in first contact or working with humans but can infiltrate a 'Con base with me anytime. Course, practice makes perfect but there are things," he leaned over to kiss her forehead plate without processing. "That you never expect to happen."
Optics closing, she leaned into his touch as his systems nearly stalled. Then she straightened as he opened his mouth to apologize and touched helm to helm. ::I hear you. I know your spark. I am safe::
:: Yes, with me. But I cannot always protect you Sols. We need to work on your skills. First mission practice tomorrow:: Jazz answered, relieved their feelings were mutual.
"Training time already?" Solspark asked, leaning back.
"Training never ends. The bot that doesn't use their skills is no better off than the bot who has none," Jazz corrected, hopping off the bunk to search a large table pile in the main room for a data cube. "What are the most valuable skills for a spy?"
"Knowing how to break in and steal stuff," Solspark answered, resisting the urge to tease him about the mess everywhere in the room.
"Wrong. And you chided me about watching late night human tv shows. It's the ability to blend in. You roll up to any gathering and read the energy to find the troublemakers or potential information holders. By the time you clear your transform, you should know who to pump for a free drink, a contact to further your search or plant disinformation and be able to disappear. Try again femme."
"Lying or having to offline?" Solspark guessed next.
"Neither. Spies are not killers, I do it because they have earned it through their choices or actions, refusing to roll off or fly away. Make no mistake, I take sparks because it is required otherwise I would be nothing but an executioner. Decepticons have plenty of those. And lying makes me a master of deception and infiltration when no other option exists. Otherwise I never do it."
"Autobots do not lie," she quoted, that she did know.
"An excellent rule because Decepticons lie to steal, to inflict pain, to break trust, and gain an advantage to exploit others. Megatron once spoke before the Grand Council on why all levels of Cybertron classes should be made equal. When they refused him, he raised an army by giving the discontent masses what they wanted to hear and thousands paid with everything they had, for a future he was never going to give them as the war began. You were sparked into the war. I saw it start with a lie. Megatron believing he was better than any of the Primes and setting forth a plan to remove the Council and old ways of power to replace them with himself as the only leader. Tell a lie once and all your truths become questionable," he taught.
"Now I feel ignorant," she vented lightly. The softest touch on her shoulder had her turning to face him.
"Ignorance does not equal dumb. It means you need to learn. And what you don't know in this job will get you offlined," Jazz corrected. "I am twice your age and always learning. If it was data alone, any upload would do. It is making the right choices, the hard ones that will have consequences beyond yourself."
"Using discipline? Power over others?"
"Discipline does not mean control. Discipline means having the sense to do what exactly is needed. There will be mistakes. There will be obstacles. There will be frustrations. Difficult does not mean impossible. When you get tired, learn to rest, not to quit. And it's recharge time. In the morning, after you have rested the real fun begins."
The morning alarm startled her, her hand flailing to shut it off as optics blinked open. Rolling over on her side, Solspark faced Jazz, energon in hand. "How do you always get in my space without triggering any alerts?"
"Practice. I will show you how in time. I need you to go to this hallway on Level Three and wait. Your objective brief will be sent. Acquire the data cube and keep yourself online and functional without being taken down."
"The lesson?" She downed the energon, not noticing the special mix.
"Escape. A dead spy is a waste of training. And I better not catch ya later." And he left.
'Wow. What a pep talk.' She processed, rising and making her way through the room. 'How about evade and escape these piles? How can a bot so meticulous in his work live in cluttered chaos?'
Ark Third Deck
"Time for the first check in," Solspark realized. Part of the mission instructions, she had to report in, or 'rescue' would come find her, endangering other bots until her mission completed. Personally she suspected it was a way to track her movements. As former communications, she knew how to bounce a signal and used it ruthlessly, pinging it out of the break room on the second floor. 'There. Track that.'
ALL COMMAND CALL. DECEPTICON INFILTRATION IN THE ARK. OLD ENGINE ROOM THIRD FLOOR. REPORT TO DUTY STATIONS. RED ALERT, SECURITY DIRECTOR
'A Decepticon raid at the other end of this deck? Sounds legit right after my check in and announced by the only command bot not in the drill listing, amazing,' she processed, identifying Hound and Bumblebee energy signatures next corridor down. 'Scrap. My signal bounce failed. And I'm trapped in this dead end, ends in rock from the crash. Wait, operations is never trapped. See beyond the obvious.'
Looking down at the single level metal floor with no reinforcement, she ran calculations. 'I should just fit between the beams. Lightweight add on post crash instead of normal ship decking.' Engaging the laser setting on her rifle, she carved a circle around her with the narrowest precision beam. At the last second she remembered to engage her magnetic pad locks. The metal disc she had just cut was freed but didn't fall; instead it pulled on her, too much pull.
"Scrap!" Solspark dropped, arms scrabbling for traction before hanging by her fingers on the hole edges. "This seemed like a good idea!" Suspended between floors with the additional weight pulling her down, she released the metal disc. After wincing at the reverberating clanging noise it made hitting the floor, she let go to drop into running full tilt. Any nano second and pursuit would be chasing, drawn by the noise. Switching corridors, a concentrated data pulse snapped open a strange metal side rolling door allowing her to change directions. Unfamiliar ramps took her higher than the normal five floors of the ark, the long stone tunnel undisturbed by doors or open areas. Another metal rolling door faced her, slowly responding to her override.
Ducking under the partially raised door, her feet pads transformed out trying to grip sliding on the slick flooring as she floundered for a moment. The door descended immediately, the locking energy patterns unrecognized as was the vast circular room carved out of the mountain itself. "And I'm stuck here," she said, noting the way she left the only tracks in the dust. "What room is never rolled into?"
Staring up and turning, five recharge bunks were attached high in the air, four spacious and one huge bunk with no visible ladder or stairs bolted to the outer walls leaving her confused. Enormous barred skylights flooded the area with sunlight with the highest one open to the air, a deck extending to the outside through sealed blast doors. The bright winged crest painted on the ceiling above her head solved it. "Aerialbots. Great. I am in the Aerialbots lair. Couldn't be Dinobots or Wheeljack's spare lab, no! Must be those insane fliers and they are off on training. I don't fly and climbing is out. Walls and floor are base rock, no help there."
Sub routines ran, looking for any information on the fliers that could help. Remote accessing the Teletran database, files scrolled by. Many of the files were specialist locked or beyond her need on understanding their combiner form, her medical status capable of unlocking them but ignored. "Jazz might be monitoring and even he doesn't know my hidden medical rank access. Woah, I never realized Air Raid and Fireflight competed with the twins for action write ups on getting in trouble. And I processed my four in a vorn was bad. They can earn that in a solar year. Supplies are ordered then rejected and sent back down all the time for exchanges. Picky fliers rejecting something out of almost every shipment. Wait, that's it. They send it back down. And time for another check in. I will be gone by the time they track me here."
A quick search located it in the wall on the far side of the room. Optics auto calculated the size of the transport lift, the small square set in the wall. "If I fold up tight, I can barely squeeze in. Better hope the door auto opens on the other end." Sliding in on her aft, the femme pulled her legs up slowly, wrapping her arms tight against her mid riff and tucking her head to fit in the square space. A remote connection and the door shut, the mini elevator descending slowly.
A breem later, Solspark chuckled wiping at the grease mark on her arm from sliding out the narrow door, blasted apart when it refused to open. "Jazz, you were right again. Being leader class size is a bad thing for a spy."
She froze, her rifle sub pacing out as movement ahead triggered contact warnings, the energy pattern unrecognized. Jamming interference took her targeting locks out. "Not friendly. What surprise is this?"
A scream of sound and the winged shape hopped into sight, the Decepticon symbol prominent on each wing. Red optics set on either side of the black beak targeted her, the menacing figure of silver and red odd as he balanced on the floor, talons spread to stand.
'What are the odds? Laserbeak this far underground?' she processed. The red optics glowed brightly, the split-second warning before he fired.
COMMAND CALL. ALL UNITS STAND DOWN. TARGET LOCATED. AND WOULD SIC AND TIC PLEASE CONTACT ME? RED ALERT, SECURITY DIRECTOR.
Limping, her armor charred in several places Solspark snorted at the puzzled tone in the official message. The decoy now safely in Red Alert's possession as Jazz and Prowl were off limits per the mission briefing. 'Where else would I turn in that thing?' The resounding clang it made startling the red and white armored bot a treasured memory before leaving Red Alert gaping behind his desk. The walk to Prowl's office quickly finished, the data disk dropped in the marked square on his desk. Rather than send another mission check-in she changed her status to 'wash racks / self-repair.' Jazz could chew her out later for not reporting a debrief, the mission parameters reached as far as Solspark figured. "Online and functional without being taken down, and you did not catch me later," she echoed, frowning at the destroyed end of her rifle.
Jazz found her in the holding room between the wash rack areas, the femmes on the right and mechs on the left. Not because they needed separating but a reminder the twins were not allowed in the other area after exchanging cleaner for armor color changers, Elita One among the affected. Optimus threatening to brig them for a vorn after seeing his beloved femme bright purple, everywhere. Solspark sat on a bench, arm reaching back trying to rub nanite laden repair salve across the burn gash shoulder to shoulder plate.
"Why did you challenge Laserbeak? He is dangerous! Blasted Optimus in med bay once nearly offlining him. Red Alert freaked telling me," Jazz started out, reaching and grabbing the container away to scoop out a gob.
"The decoy? I knew it was fake as soon as I saw it," she groaned, leaning into his touch as he applied the repair solve.
"Why would you process he was not real?" Jazz challenged, wary her processes would get her offlined yet.
"The energy scanners Red Alert installed. The Ark entrance ones you told me about the first day we traded for information," she reminded, playing his voice back.
Unless you are Rumble riding Ravage with Laserbeak on your shoulder, nothing to worry about.
"And you relied on that? Do you know how many ways there are to infiltrate the Ark?" Strong hands traced down her back, confirming armor edges sealed down to the wound across her hip.
"I've studied the cassettes. Laserbeak likes staying hidden and gathering information to relay back. Every time he is offlined another version appears with the same programming. And you like using realistic settings, full of nasty surprises like field missions gone wrong to teach. I moved too slow and got burned on my hip and shoulders rolling clear figuring he wouldn't engage in one on one combat. I learned I need to react quicker to a threat. Really though Jazz, the coincidence that winged terror appearing before me in a maintenance hallway and not a high-profile target area like energon storage?"
"That hallway connects to our most secure backup server. Only way to access it is at that console. A fail safe for files too sensitive to be kept in Teletran One or personal set ups. This is not the first time Laserbeak has been caught near there. Command kept the attempts classified to protect the location," Jazz explained, tracing the deep mar across her hip armor. Any other time the contact would have been sensual, this instance confirming major energon lines were intact inside the gash.
"A hidden target. Missed that in the mission brief," she pondered, relaxing with his touches welcomed and wanted, soothing battle damage.
"Sols, listen to me. Laserbeak was not a decoy. The drill was simulated, his incursion was real. And not part of my design. He infiltrated the Ark; the command warnings were real. Your locator signal pinged in the break room then the Aerialbots quarters or I would have retrieved you," Jazz leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her to pull her back against him. He needed to feel her spark and signature energy to calm his own system protocols. "I saw the claw marks across your rifle. You could have lost an optic or worse than him shredding the stock end."
Solspark hesitated, deciding Jazz needed to know the truth. "I fear Soundwave, not his cassettes. He hacked a Combat Captain who saved my spark several times on rescue runs. Soundwave stripped everything away and left him the processor of a cleaning roller. I studied what intel I could find after Tyger Pax, if we ever crossed paths again. I knew Laserbeak is susceptible to concurrent energy discharges. My rifle didn't take him down. I slashed the power strip on the wall and attacked, throwing him and my rifle power base in to cross blow. Even a decoy, I wanted its last sight to be me. He should have perished instantly, instead of thrashing free and clawing at me as he offlined," Solspark shivered, realizing how close the fight had been, the threat underestimated. Holding her arm up, she partially transformed the metal outward, displaying the talon grooves. "I wanted him gone, but it feels like vengeance not justice. I don't want to become like them. Having hate in my spark and wanting them to suffer."
"The fact you are concerned means you won't. It's not how we make mistakes but how we choose to correct them that define us. I wanted you to learn the lesson of escape and you did better. You learned to face your own motives, accepting the result is not what you want in your spark. Optimus Prime has probably the highest kill count next to Megatron, but you will never hear him mention it. He refuses to keep count, wanting to be known for the sparks he saves and the goal of ending this war. Cannot process a better example than that."
::Prowl to Jazz and Solspark:: Prowl sent, his comm tone puzzled.
::Go for both:: Jazz answered, mischievously smiling at her and adding their location tag to the message.
::Red Alert just handed me a fried Laserbeak drone, stating Solspark left it? Is she functional?:: Prowl asked, reading the femme wash racks locator tag.
::Attending to injuries now, all minor. Training crossed paths with him. Filing repairs orders shortly for a hole lasered through the Third floor, a blasted delivery elevator door and a power relay panel outside the Aerialbot area:: Solspark updated, seeing Jazz blink at the list.
::And the official report of the incident?:: Prowl prodded.
::Laserbeak snuck in the Ark, made his way through the floors and hit a panel, shorting out:: Jazz reported crisply.
::Did he identify her?:: Prowl asked, his tone conveying a faint trace of concern.
::Negative. No time to relay who offlined him as he went:: Jazz reassured, nuzzling down her neck bracings. Distracted, she never felt the new tracker he added under her armor edge.
::I await your unofficial reports with all relative details. Keep me advised. SIC clear:: Prowl ended the call.
"Now what?"
"Get you cleaned up and back to our quarters for a full debrief. Any more damage from your training and I'll be filing budget updates," Jazz teased, tempted to nuzzle down her armor then passed. He was not a code happy youngling and Solspark needed time to process her emotions. 'Our willingness to wait reveals the value we place on what we are waiting for,' Jazz quoted, watching her finish toweling off. 'For her, I waited a lifetime. I want us to advance together and live a life full of love, happiness and naughty adventures.'
To be continued…
Author's Notes: Thank you for continuing reading and Reviews are love. Yes, lots of teaching but the action will pick up quickly. Wreckers from Cybertron are inbound, needed Solspark to learn a few steps for the next adventure. The planetary engine attack on Iacon with Shockwave is a canon reference (TF Comic) as is Megatron before the council (Transformers Prime). And Jazz has two part time positions open. Any takers? Until all are one.