TF TRANSFORMERS
::Challenge or deny:: Instant the comm message left, Jazz almost pulled it back, but he had to know. Most other mechs would have quit, their relationship too complicated and problematic. If her challenge returned, they would work it out until Solspark was an equal mate in his spark and by his side. If denied, he would still be her commander even if it meant hating him but never a victim again, trained to a higher level.
The argument in med bay that morning the worse he had endured in vorns. Solspark discovering her upgrades and the hurt finalizing into a few sentences, the pain at what had been done. What he had done.
"I never authorized!"
"Yes you did," Jazz corrected, sending her a file copy of her own voice, recorded in their quarters.
"Add away if the job requires it then. The next time I am in med bay you have my permission. I could use a handy cutter."
"And that gives you the right Commander?" Solspark hissed, the first traces of red he had ever seen flowing across her optics. Her silver blue frame nearly rebuilt, the outer armor ready but needing welds to cool and set around the new tech before activating.
"What would you choose? Walk away and waste your gifts or gear up and learn? You are Operations now. Not hiding on some distant asteroid base tracking signals. You are no longer alone, fighting battles within and without. You are part of a team and you can be our weakest link or part of a greater strength. We have to trust what you can do, and you have to trust us back," Jazz reasoned, offering her hope and a future.
"I've done my part, paid the price. Trusting others," she growled, tracing her spark scar overlay.
"And? Tell that to Optimus, Nova and the other Primes. They fought for our entire race, not themselves. You are responsible for how long you let what hurt you haunt you. Growth is painful, change is painful. But nothing is as painful as staying stuck somewhere you do not belong," he softened, wanting her to understand.
"Maybe I don't belong here," she echoed, sagging a little.
Snapping around, Jazz marched out of med bay without a word. His anger locking him tight, self control won over the centuries observing and waiting keeping him quiet. Prowl respected her ability to make the right decision, leaving out the hidden passageway. Ratchet shifted to his office, monitoring Ultra Magnus readings remotely.
"You do. Belong here that is." The quiet words a statement. Hot Rod stood by her, propped against her berth. His orange and yellow front armor removed, covered with a medical woven drape as his welds settled. He sat down gingerly, her hand guiding him as his internal compensators wobbled without the heavier armor weight.
"How can you be so sure?"
"Experience. I enlisted to get revenge. I fought front line, heavy combat then took a serious hit. Ended up in an outpost holding area, awaiting transport." He glanced up, recalling memories. "Kup was there. Both legs blown off, spark chamber fractured and telling stories about worse war injuries. Once the techs left, he kicked my aft into gear verbally. Never let up on me. Demanded I be on his team next mission and never left me behind. Even when I questioned myself. Strength doesn't come from what you can do. It comes from overcoming the things you once processed you couldn't. He taught me we cannot go back and change the past, but we can start where we are and change the ending."
Emotionally exhausted, she leaned against him, something she would never had done with another mech. His presence felt familiar, his touch the comforting of a best friend. Contact enough to be felt without pressure, ready to release and pull back if she wanted or hold tighter to reassure another cared. "I felt I was broken. Now, I am not sure what I am."
"They broke the wrong part of you," Hot Rod stated, resting his chin on her undamaged shoulder, his arms encircling her smaller frame. His only process of protecting, not as a mech to a femme but family. "They broke your wings and forgot you had claws."
"Probably add that next upgrade," she teased, relaxing.
"Make them retractable. You were made for far more beautiful things than war," his hand traced down her scar marking, as though wiping it away. The story behind it a mystery, the pain too real.
"I'm at war with myself. I love Jazz but I can't compete with any of this. His command rank, advanced training I can't even begin to master, being part of a team who finds out secrets when I spent my existence hiding, how can our love survive?" Solspark admitted softly.
"It's okay to fight for someone who loves you. It's not okay to fight for someone to love you. There's a huge difference. Do you want a mech to stand next to you because of loneliness? Or because he can't imagine standing next to any other?" Hot Rod asked softly, holding her smaller hands in one of his.
"I didn't want to fall in love or need somebot. I really didn't want anything. But now with Jazz, I started wanting everything. It's chaos now."
"Chaos is only understood when it is loved by the wild, not the weak. Maybe it won't work out. But maybe seeing if it does, will be the best adventure ever. And you heard him, you are no longer alone fighting battles. You are part of a team, me included. Let us help work it out," he challenged.
"It sounds reasonable when you put it that way."
"Usually if we are in a situation where I am the voice of reason, then we are in a very bad situation," Hot Rod admitted before they both lost it laughing. Behind them, Ultra Magnus listened as he reclined without moving.
Across the ark, the challenge signal returned to its sender, the message longer than a simple word answer. Bracing, Jazz opened it.
::Challenge. You are not getting out that easily mech! Do not go self sacrificing on my account and race off. I am keeping the upgrades but no further adds unless I order them! We are not done with this:: Solspark
Grinning, Jazz sat down at the nearest table, popping the top off his energon cube to drink it celebrating. 'First healthy sign from her.' The Wreckers filed in, grabbing energon and sitting in a loose semi circle at the table. Kup flipping the chair around, straddling it. Springer standing behind one, crossing both arms on top, letting his propeller blades flex to the sides. Arcee sitting down gracefully before kicking the next chair out of the way to allow Blurr speeding into that open space.
"Orders?" Springer asked, getting to the obvious. The green armored triple changer had served with both Prowl and Jazz, trusting them but also had responsibilities to the Wreckers as his family. And family superseded any proposed temporary orders on earth if necessary.
"Officially you are to train and update protocols while waiting for Ultra Magnus to recover. Help keep the peace here until Optimus Prime returns."
"Unofficially?" Arcee asked, spinning her full cube on her fingertip before opening it. The smaller pink armored femme adjusted on the chair, feet crossing up under her.
'Help keep my sanity,' Jazz processed but didn't say it aloud. "Train our newest member. She has potential but little or no background and needs group skills desperately. Trouble is drawn to her and a path of destruction behind her, so I want one bot at all times accompanying her, anywhere and everywhere, no exceptions."
"To guard and protect?" Springer asked, looking over at Arcee. Usually she paired femme to femme on a protection detail. Some places a mech could not, nor should with a unbonded femme.
"Focus on being a unit by keeping her in it, Ark Ops and Wreckers. Until she is out of basic field training it works both ways. Any mech losing her gets demoted a notch and no field missions for ten joors. And better have an explanation this side of the pit. She goes where we go, even if rear guard or to anchor base. Train and learn, medical or combat areas included. Time to face her fears and end this running from the past," Jazz stated, crossing both arms over his chest plates.
"And if she refuses lad?" Kup asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He had trained thousands of bots over his long life, from the Elite Guard to the main army and recognized what was not being said.
"Deal with that when it comes. And I need to retrieve something out of Wheeljack's lab. Hot Rod has first Solspark duty since he's in med bay with her until this afternoon." Rising, he strode out of the room, missing the Wreckers exchanging a head nod.
"Wheeljack's lab? Most dangerous place around here if I remember rightly," Springer stated.
"Unless valuable or in safe keeping," Kup reasoned. "We need reconnaissance."
Back in their temporary quarters the Wreckers began taking the problem apart. "Agreement is they are partners, but new to the relationship. Her past is hidden and locked with the highest encryptions by Optimus Prime and his second Prowl. Solspark is new to the special ops team and lacking in every area of spying and diplomacy, allowed to recover outside of med bay, apparently the exception to Ratchet's rule," Springer summarized to Ultra Magnus over their encrypted comm line.
"Since her arrival Solspark kept to herself, basic rank and no command attributes. No close friends though generally well liked. She risked everything to save another rather than escape clear, displayed unparallel strength in signals. Medical records are locked down but nothing in her frame indicates special boosting," Arcee added.
"And local gossip?"
"More betting on when Jazz will dump her as he is known for partner changing. Other bets are she will hit him up alongside the head with a cybo pan and leave. Consensus is they are mismatched and won't last, evidence by their personality differences," Kup said.
"Until the obstacle course, I never even heard of her. Actions showed creative processing without full planning. A definite lack of command level experience but she has overseen a smaller team. Their argument following her parts upgrade half the Ark probably heard. She referenced a trust issue tied to her armor scar overlay but no details and her files are incomplete that I could access as Commander. The berth hopping was a cover for Jazz, an excuse for his spying time. Optimus mentioned it to me once," Magnus pronounced.
"Did Optimus mention anything else relevant?"
"No. For now observe and learn what we can and keep Hot Rod in the loop. She has a fondness for him."
"Did you just use the word fondness and Hot Rod in the same sentence with a femme?" Springer quizzed, exchanging a startled look with Kup. The ancient mech shrugged, making a processor note to watch how the two younglings interacted when together.
"Fondness like a spark sibling. Though I am not sure who would be the worse influence at this point," Magnus admitted.
"That is dangerous," Kup rolled his optics.
"I have surgery scheduled for the rest of the day and will be unavailable. Solspark and Hot Rod are released to light duty out of med bay, Arcee can chaperon. Springer has command, Kup secondary. Magnus out."
Ark First Floor – Command Offices
"What brings you to my office?" Prowl prompted, realizing Jazz was idling in his doorway.
"Admiring the view?" Jazz quipped, walking in to lean on the spare chair.
"Anytime you want my job you may have it," Prowl answered, smiling. The neatness of the room never ceased to intrigue Jazz. Confiscated items intermixed with data pads and endless copies of human reports all stacked, categorized and kept the appearance of being orderly. The Autobot spy could lay out five things and make a room look trashed, or so he often joked. The mess inside his personal quarters did not bear processing, carrying over to the transform out of his alt mode and items falling out onto the ground, unorganized.
"Larger office yes, the responsibility of strategizing and helping pull off Prime's miracles, not so much."
Prowl raised an optic arch, wing doors rising a little as he recognized the reason behind the visit with the word use of strategizing. "You need guidance?"
Jazz spun the chair wildly flipping his frame neatly into it, stopping the spin facing forward while reclining, one foot in the air to cross over the other. "This looks like a good place to kick it. Need counsel on my recruit."
"You are concerned with training her breaking your relationship," Prowl stated, calculating the problem and being blunt. "Jazz, she loves you. There is little you could do statistically to change that within her. There will be rough times for both sides. She will need you to be a guide as the hardest challenges will be within her own spark. She was a combat medic, fighting through enemy lines to reach wounded and knows how to fight. Her time hiding has left her unsure of her own motivations and actions, even without the influence of the Matrix she carries. The training cycles will be pushing herself to the limit or wanting to do nothing at all."
"Most my team has to be restrained from being gung ho. How do I motivate the opposite?"
"Straight forward approach. She will hate feeling restricted at times and you will wonder on her strength when she seeks solitude to deal with own issues. You are not the type to dwell in negative emotions. You need to pull her into your calm, or you will see a darker side of her when or if situations turn bad," Prowl warned.
"Like her fit in med bay over the upgrades? She flinched from me. Blew that calm out the trunk hatch," he admitted.
"Confrontation and arguing is not her way. She pulled away from the tone and emotion in med bay, not from you. Her judgment was harder on herself for letting you down than your words. Statistically the upgrades will benefit her and in time, she will seek out parts additions on her own, though small adjustments. There are times she will need help and never ask. It will be easy to misunderstand her motivations or her apparent indifference,' Prowl explained.
"Sounds like your personality. And I've been improving that for vorns," Jazz smiled, straightening in the chair.
"We both can benefit for your ability to adapt with the unexpected. In time, she will seek me out for advice on you and her own struggles. Odd are favorable for you becoming spark mates. And yes, I will help you organize your music collection in the new quarters when construction is finished," Prowl added, transmitting the information without relaying everything calculated, the time not yet appropriate for certain reveals on her and their potential relationship.
"Always one step ahead of me ain't ya?"
"As a strategist my function is to identify areas for improvement."
"How about improving the twins? Getting tired of their pranks." Their latest mischief had included stealing needed parts from Wheeljack's lab, the Matrix inside for refitting and ignored unrecognized. Too close a call to its discovery for Jazz when he had caught them upon his return.
"Strategist Jazz, not miracle worker. And the office is yours. You are approximately one point four days behind on reports and official logs plus this orns budget proposals. Once Solspark and Hot Rod are released from med bay your availability will be severely limited. Use this time well." And Prowl closed his data pads and walked out.
::What is a flash mob again?:: Arce asked, her pink and white alt mode rolling down I-84. Her holographic driver sat behind the wheel, hair never moving in the gorge wind. The blond hair woman wearing a business suit a copy of the first human she had seen online. An alteration of the eyes to her optic blue and the hair longer created to alter the image of Reese Witherspoon. Not even Prowl had been able to convince her to pick a different image, the femme falling in love with the pink suit the human wore in a movie matching the preexisting color of her armor.
::It is a large public gathering at which humans perform a choreographed dance and then disperse, typically organized by social media. Found it by accident, or destiny. Perfect for our latest armor repairs. Solspark's aim with her new throwing knives is getting better. And she loved her new sword that looks like Prime's. Quite the surprise to us both when it subspaced out and nearly took my leg off. Let's try a less dangerous test: He answered Arcee before adding Solspark to the channel.
::Officially we are on light duty and going for a light drive around the area and will happen upon a flash mob:: Hot Rod explained, his alt mode drawing the most attention with its flashy colors and hood super charger, the windows darkened to skirt the use of a holographic driver.
::It's not against rules here on earth, Jazz and Blaster have participated in several for charity. And this is for children, youngling age:: Solspark added, trailing them at a distance, keeping alert for Decepticons. Her silver blue Bugatti Veyron mostly unrecognized, the price more than most could even consider, her windows also darkened.
::Why does it say senior? I have temporary gear cogs older than any inhabitant on this planet:: Arcee countered, racing around a large semi.
::High school seniors. Their final year of basic school and it's a human tradition:: Hot Rod explained, the most into earth culture since his arrival. Kup blamed his youth, Springer didn't complain if it kept him out of trouble and Jazz encouraged social media all he could off duty, always finding new music online.
The three Transformers pulled into the Hood River waterfront park, taking spots near the back of the parking lot, scans confirming local youth waiting in cars matching their online images. At exactly the evening time set, they transformed up, startling the students moving into position.
"Mind if we join? We saw your posts and know the steps," Hot Rod asked, bending over low and keeping his vocals soft.
The scattered agreements ranged from yes to omg to rad. Hot Rod took center position back row, Arcee on his right, Solspark on his left. Their heads-up display showed each choregraphed move, timed to a specific beat of the music. And it began. "I Wanna Dance With Somebody" played over the park speakers, boosted and amplified by Hot Rod as a surprise.
The group of forty plus Hood River Valley students and three Autobots danced to the music, feet moving and arms swinging in near perfect unison. The main chorus Hot Rod paired with Arcee, spinning and twirling the femme leaving Solspark moving but unpartnered. She balanced on her heel plates, arching her back and getting into the rhythm. Head up, hand out like she was singing into a microphone, copying the other unpartnered girls. "I wanna feel the heat…" Her hip cogs more flexible for bending and reaching over patients, she matched the teenage girls gyration and swinging motions. Finishing the routine, they broke apart cheering.
"It will trend," Hot Rod laughed, bumping shoulders with Arcee. The smaller femme bumped back harder, their armor clanging with the force but not moving him.
"Hah! So few students probably never make it past the next breem cycle."
"Bet it does," he challenged, transforming down to let the humans post selfies with his alt mode.
"Does not."
::It will hit over two hundred thousand hits by end of the week:: Hot Rod sent over the comms, ignoring the teenager draping herself across his hood, rubbing at his armor.
"Only if you cheat and post about it," Arcee snarked.
::Not a word from me and I do not cheat:: Hot Rod's tone sounding like he was offended. His hood tilted, sliding the teenager off before he backed up, fuel injector roaring to life. Self-repair nanites erased her lipstick kisses from his armor at his command, the foreign substance unwanted.
"If it hits fifty thousand you can help me pick my next upgrade. One hundred thousand and you can help install it," Solspark challenged back, having done her own research. She was not about to transform down and have any of them touching her. Of more interest were the online Transformer fan clubs for both factions. Though why anyone would approve of a Decepticon as worthy to exult or follow baffled her. Optimus as Prime had the largest fan club, with the various Autobots ranked behind him. Jazz's club added one more, her new online name Laura of Kaon allowing her to see the photos of him in action around the earth before her arrival. Some were obvious photoshop alterations or not him but his IMSA GT Porsche 935 Turbo mode. The fan stories had her shutting down the link rapidly. The written detailing of him as a devoted lover tingling her spark even as the physical descriptions had her laughing, medically knowing every Transformer alteration and no mech had those part configurations.
COMMAND CALL. ARCEE MEET WITH SPRINGER FOR RECON BY VISTA HOUSE. HOT ROD AND SOLSPARK RETURN TO ARK IMMEDIATELY. ACTING SIC JAZZ
"Party is over." Arcee noted, transforming and racing back towards the freeway.
::Ready?:: Hot Rod backed over the grass, sliding and spinning back towards the park entrance.
Waving goodbye to the human girls near her, Solspark ran two steps, flipping up in the air over the grass transforming to land in her alt mode on the asphalt area and slid alongside Hot Rod.::Next time, no tracks on the green. Park Rangers do not like our tread marks left behind::
The drive back towards the Ark had them passing a few cars, several reminders from her to Hot Rod about speed limits and human traffics laws on the two-lane road.
COMMAND CALL. ALL UNITS STAGE CLEAR. POSSIBLE DECEPTICON INCURSION AT ARK. AWAIT CLEAR CODE. ACTING COMMANDER PROWL.
::Did you get the message?:: Hot Rod slowed, pulling over the white fog line to stop on the road for human traffic to pass.
::Stand by as the Ark defenses are reset following another Decepticon cassette incursion probably? Or another panic glitch by Red Alert that is false alarm. Yes:: Solspark echoed, mapping the nearest park area. ::Follow me. We can stage in the park up the road and move in our bi pedal modes. No tracking our comm signals::
"Cons raid us, we Wreckers blow their base and it goes back and forth. Nothing to fear Sols," he reassured, placing one arm under his head lounging on the hillside. The Park's far gate preventing human traffic into the campground for repairs was simply stepped over by them. Now they waited on a hillside, the forest trees providing cover.
"I fear most things medical, not Decepticons."
"Do you know what the opposite of fear is? Not always courage. It can be curiosity. A strong desire to know or learn something. Have you tried learning more medical? Maybe a repair class?" He asked, waving at her to sit by him and relax.
"I earned my field status for combat medical support and actually studied for my medical officer certification during my early career. I met a Prime and everything changed. I do still know full field procedures and repairs," she admitted, staring off into the sky.
"Then what is the problem?" He leaned up, intrigued she knew that branch of learning also.
"More a who than a what. I was badly injured and instead of repairs, I was attacked and broken," she half explained.
"You survived. It was never about how much you could handle before being broken. It's how much you can handle after being broken. Do you know what a kaleidoscope is?"
"Human toy. I saw it on the kids tool log for when they visit," she answered, not sure why the change in subject.
"It is a tube filled with broken parts. When you look at it and move it, you see something beautiful. I see a beautiful femme online and helping others. With one flaw. The scar overlay on your armor."
"It's to remember that event and others," she said, for the first time feeling uneasy explaining had discussed it earlier in med bay and now it seemed more like whining than an explanation.
"You can look at a scar and see hurt. Or you can look at a scar and see healing. If the event is that traumatic, why carry an outside reminder now? Healing doesn't mean the damage never existed. It means the damage no longer controls our lives. Stop looking back, there is nothing there but the injury. Healing is a forward action. Forgive yourself for not knowing then what you do now."
"I never processed it that way," she admitted. Had she really need it as a reminder or like a shield to block her from reaching out to others? From growing?
"Things happen in the universe that are not fair. This war, our losses and more. They will affect me, but they will never lessen me or my desire for adventure. What?" He noticed her staring.
"You sound like Optimus. The inherent wisdom of a Prime," she laid out on the ground, watching the sun disappear beyond the horizon.
"Hah! You know nothing of Primes then. Though Kup says I'm a prime pain in the aft sometimes," he chuckled.
"It did help my life in one way," she murmured. "I traded Jazz the secret of it. That's how we met."
"Then replace it with something better if it has served its purpose," he encouraged.
"I will. Would you remove it and help me change it out?"
"Me? Why not Jazz?" He hesitated, not wanting to step into a personal area after the morning argument.
"I told him any future upgrades would be my choice, not his."
"Okay then. Be my honor and the bet is still separate. At least one hundred thousand likes or hits and I pick your next upgrade."
COMMAND CALL. SITUATION CONTAINED. ARK ENTRY CLEAR CODE. ACTING COMMANDER PROWL
"Do the earth bots use codes for everything? Our Wrecker base is either standing, under attack or wiped flat. Pretty easy to spot the difference," Hot Rod noted.
"Did you read the list of Prowl's rules? If an Autobot do not do the following?"
"Rules? I processed they were more guidelines than actual rules and no. Saving them for later. Why?" Hot Rod answered.
Back at the Ark, doors unsealed with the all clear. Jazz checked on Med Bay, Ratchet and his patients locked inside automatically. He noticed the large medical cabinet braced in front of the hidden door, various glass and metal containers on top. "Why not bolt a crash bar across it? Laser alarms? Or the crash when Optimus collides with it to warn all?" Jazz teased.
"Prime can step over it, Magnus too. Smaller frames not so much," Ratchet teased back.
"Now why would Cliffjumper or Huffer need it?" Jazz pretended to ponder the question. Their running witticism on frame size enhancements, Jazz always denying the medic's suggestions. A subroutine reminder popped up to research why Solspark was sensitive on any mention to her frame. Even without battle upgrades, most bots had multiple transforms and frame adjustments, Optimus holding the Ark's record.
Moving towards the nearest access console Jazz unlocked Solspark's official medical records, the short file on transforms displaying three entries. The second one after the encounter from Prime Axial. Jazz paused, unfamiliar with the medical coding. "Ratch, what is medical code FC 19 – 1101?"
"Complete transform and frame downgrade. Locked at the highest level and an ancient code. Why? If you want that, insult Starscream's trine on their wing colors and they will do it for you. Scrape up and reformat what is left matches FC 19-1101."
"Asking for a friend," he countered.
"What is the precursor code?"
"The what?"
"1101 is a downgrade for safety or enforced per need. The previous upgrade an issue per its code. Frame instability is 0505. Weakened spark is 0321. What's the code?"
"There is no code," Jazz answered, sending the file copy with Solspark's name and designation removed.
"Who the frag messed with this official file? Three codes? Standard full frame, downgrade and current transform? There are entries missing, as CMO I can access the metadata embedded in the file and its been scrambled. At least five entries are missing. This is not familiar, is it Solspark's?"
"Affirmative. She frosted the room when I mentioned upgrading her frame, so I wanted a peek at the file. Neither of us touched it. This is the encrypted transfer from her last posting," Jazz countered, upgrading Ratchet on being able to read embedded code. Medical files were one area Jazz or any of his team would not mess with other than erasing their existence, the data necessary for future repairs.
"Alpha Trion did. His official seal is the last code on the middle entry. When Solspark was recognized as a Prime, he would have direct access to her and her medical files. Without Optimus approval I cannot unlock or search her core coding for any reason other than a complete processing crash," Ratchet stated, the warning implied.
"Alpha Trion can do no wrong by Optimus. Never get that approval. I can get her to tell me in time if she knows or remembers."
"Any other questions send to my holding file. I have surgery to attend to," Ratchet reminded, moving to stand beside Ultra Magnus on the far medical berth.
To be continued…