"Any high grade left for me?" Hot Rod stood in the doorway of the Wreckers temporary quarters.
"Sorry, femmes only," Arcee rejoined.
"One more injury and Ratchet will take care of that for me or at least he threatened to," Hot Rod teased before hobbling into the room, careful to not overstress his leg repairs. Arcee grimaced, not over his pain or injuries but imaging the chewing out Ratchet had given the red and yellow armored mech on avoidable injuries.
"I am sorry I didn't take Grimlock down," Solspark apologized, handing her high grade over then retrieving two more for him. The femme blamed herself for his injury. The Matrix flare had slowed him down, its energy interfering with his battle protocols. And in her focus to cross the finish line, she had left Hot Rod behind to be attacked instead of being a teammate to protect.
"You're kidding right?" He answered, chugging down the first cube. "The immensely strong, fearsome and powerful Dinobot? Swinging me upside down by my leg and throwing me like a chew toy in his jaws T-rex Dinobot?"
"And the only Dinobot whose name does not begin with a S," Arcee chided, watching the other femme intently. Guilt flashed across her expressive features, rapidly hidden. Arcee filed it away, there had been a way available and not used.
"You got hurt again because I had to win," Solspark sighed.
"Arcee, can you give us a moment," Hot Rod requested, sending her privately. ::I need to discuss a personal issue::
::You're not falling for her are you? She's challenge sworn to Jazz, confided in me but you should know before doing anything stupid:: Arcee sent, heading for the hallway door, her second cube half drained already.
::No. Mission glitch I need to roll through. Nothing more :: Hot Rod reassured. Once the door slid close, he deliberately stood by the opposite counter, relaxed frame while sipping the high grade. Solspark watched warily, spinning her cube without unsealing it.
"You want an explanation," she began, forestalling as he held up a hand while shaking his head side to side.
"I have one. I hacked a heavily restricted data file once on ways to identify certain spark types. Yours matches Optimus. The tingling energy is his pattern. Meaning?" Hot Rod waited, confident of the answer but wanting her to admit it.
"I was a Prime, once. Long story and not one I want to get into right now."
"You don't have to. Confirming my readings, nothing more. And you might want to watch out who you get close to unshielded. My spark is aligning with that same pattern. A side effect that should wear off soon or I will have some awkward explaining to do in the future." He missed her sheepish expression, chucking the empty cubes to slide the outer door open. "Arcee, where is the second stash?"
"Right next to the third and fourth ones," she snorted, gesturing to the far storage rack. "You want some relationship advice femme?"
"No."
"Good. I don't have advice, only experience. Do you love Jazz more than you are annoyed by him?"
"I annoy him, more often than not," Solspark admitted.
"All femmes do that," Hot Rod chided, ignoring Arcee's glare his way. He expertly caught the empty cube she threw at him.
"If Jazz is interested, he'll do what is convenient like adding you to fill an empty spot on the team. If he's committed, he'll do whatever it takes to ensure you are happy or at least safe. Magnus and Springer can be over protective, but they also are willing to stand back and let me fight my battles handing me weapons all the way, and help me with the aftermath," Arcee continued.
"I disagree. It's more than weapons," Hot Rod interrupted.
"And you call yourself a Wrecker?" Arcee teased.
"Commitment means accepting no excuses, only results. There are no guarantees when you promise, commitment is what transforms the promise into reality. Or loyalty makes commitment whatever," Hot Rod countered, emptying another cube. "He's a spy. He can't commit to anything, or any bot. His life is lying and destroying. That's what he does. And play music. Really loud. Grimlock should have bit him. Who honestly uses data cube to store plans anymore? What kind of a mission target was that?"
Solspark paused, remembering Jazz's promise to stay with her in med bay. His keeping their trade, letting her see his optics raw and filtered and recharging upright to let her rest alone. His voluntarily hiding the Matrix in the rockfall and keeping her past secret from Optimus and the others he trusted as friends. Actions more than a promise or trade.
Leaving the Wreckers imbibing, Solspark headed downstairs to her temporary quarters. The cyber headache threatened to return in full as messages post brief filtered in. An inquiry from Ratchet on any medical needs. None and no care needed, at least any she was willing to admit to. 'I bet Jazz will know how to sort and handle the old code programming running through me right now. He has probably seen every type of record that exists for our race. I know how to send it or disappear it. Dealing with it, not so much. Time I learned.'
Bumblebee's message was short. He wanted to schedule time to practice her stealth work, hearing she had collided with Mirage. 'Ask Jazz, still learning how. Can do one out of maybe twenty times,' she sent back, stalling.
Wheeljack's request for her professional help on hiding and forwarding signals in trade for anything she needed upgraded or power checked. 'My schedule is pending and data via messages ok for now?' sent back to him. The more she worked with Operations, the more she respected his creativity and learned to exercise caution when testing developing technology.
The last message Prowl requesting official updates on her personnel files, too many gaps in them. She sent her standard reply that they were up to date and needed the rest transferred from previous moon bases or record keepers. If Prowl continued pressing, she would quote his own rule back that personnel information from any bot was inadequate unless back by official records. 'In other words, I am not admitting it and you can't find it. I care more about today."
The loud music, hard beat greeted her as the lift doors opened, the music radiating from Jazz's original room. 'He was supposed to be moving the mural. What song is that?'
'Journey – Separate ways' identified from her online music search, the volume beating against the closed door. The lyrics made her spark ache. A love that would remain when the other partner left, wanting them the best. Ferocity rose up in her. Fury at her own weakness needing help, when she was a healer. Anger at struggling in practice drills and unsure of what to do, the battlefield seeming simpler in her memories with a clear objective. Frustration with herself at seeking him out for answers and realizing she had never asked what Jazz needed or wanted, challenge sworn to be equals. She sent a single message to his command inbox, low priority.
Challenge or deny. You found me and have been breaking the chains of my own making. I know your life was simpler before I appeared, and probably happier. I can only see it getting more complicated and dangerous. If deny, I understand. You have earned that right. You do not have full knowledge of what a relationship with me could entail or the burdens I carry. You have your own responsibilities without the strain of my secrets. You have treated me with more honor and respect than many in my existence.
The message sent, she refrained from entering either room, needing time to process. Waiting solitude, Solspark began climbing the path out and around the ship's hull at the Ark entrance. More a dirt trail than a path, it wove up and over the engine ports, flattening at the top.
Hours later, Solspark watched the stars wink into existence across the night sky. She was lying flat on her back with major systems nearly at a complete standstill and her optics dim to minimize interfering light. ' I want to be part of our races future, no longer watching it from afar, hiding. No more endless routine and if denied then I leave. Wreckers don't need me, but I could ride back to Cybertron with them, they are not the only fighters left there. Or explore the galaxy, finding our scattered forces. I am free to go locate Paradron and continue my medical skills. I finally have a choice of options and no desire to choose any.' A message code flashed in with high priority status, the return answer from Jazz.
Challenge. Contact me please upon opening. Direct comm or come find me.
A wave of relief swept through her. ::Solspark to Jazz::
:Hey! Why my mailbox and not to me direct?:: Jazz's comm tone conveying his puzzlement, no trace of earlier frustration.
::You were busy. I didn't want to interrupt you:: Solspark explained trying to keep the emotion out of her tone and failing, wishing he was there physically instead of just hearing his voice.
::Never that busy Sols. I went looking for you and found Arcee and Hot Rod buzzed on high grade. They said you left almost a joor previous, no idea where you went. You seemed upset leaving the post brief:: Jazz explained, not mentioning his exasperation on their failing to keep tabs on her. Then the message disconcerting when he found it in the office system. And the changing of her scar symbol without notice leaving him uncertain of her intents.
::I needed time for processing. I was so busy grieving past losses I was not embracing the life I can have. And the blessing Primus gave me in you:: Solspark said, both apologizing and being brutally honest.
::I have been called many a name in my existence. Blessing is a new one. Where are you?:: Jazz could have found her on the cameras or by tracker if he wanted but her wording choice would reveal more than any map location.
::Hull of the Ark above the far-right engine, looking up at stars:: Solspark answered. The wind picked up rustling in the far trees, scattering the few clouds across the face of the moon.
::Real romantic huh? I know the spot:: Jazz sent.
::Not our world yet earth is beautiful in its own way. I don't know which star is Cybertron:: Solspark sent. A breeze wrapped around her in passing barely felt as she continued star watching.
::I do. On my way. Look to your left, find a sealed box sitting there and open it carefully. Your mission until I arrive:: Jazz sent, his tone mischievous.
::How?:: Solspark sent, sitting up to locate the box. It keyed open to her energy signature. Nestled inside was a crystal square, the center 3-dimensional holograph of the challenge vow wording, their image and the date asked.
::I know you sweet spark. If I gave up that easily, I would never have asked you:: Jazz sent. In the hallway outside the temporary quarters, he handed Blurr the payment credits. "Thanks for the delivery my man. Do it with style or don't do it at all." The other mech raced off, the breeze of displaced air left in his path.
Tucked into subspace, the crystal square making her happier than any reward or medal she could have earned. His blue visor seemed as a guiding light with his approach up the trail before settling alongside her on the ground. Wrapping his arms around her, Jazz could feel her spark, locking the latest edge variant pattern into his systems for instant identifying as she hugged back.
"I don't know what to do but love you as we try to work our relationship out," she admitted, shifting to lay against him, tucked in his arm.
"Neither do I. Prowl calculates highly favorable odds we will be happy spark mated unless," he stroked one arm down her back reassuring and feeling the newer armor edges.
"Unless?"
"We offline each other first," he added, chuckling. "Mech is a realist. And I must ask, what is with your energy overlays? They're frizzier right now than a cyber rat caught in an energon spinner."
"You can see that? Wait, you mentioned enhanced optics."
"Ratchet ain't the only one with multi-layer lenses," Jazz admitted.
"You said the visor was a tactical tool and hid your optic strength. You lied."
"I did not. Not to you. The multi layers are like your Matrix. An added surprise the fewer who know about it the better. The day I showed you I had them locked tight least your matrix flare and give me a cyber headache from the pit. Ratchet has fifteen levels for medical. I have seven for document scanning and precision work, installed before the war began. The outer ring is cracked but I can't repair it without removing the whole optic and all associated controls."
"Ouch. I had to replace an entire limb once for a medical upgrade requirement. Added wiring including a dozen morphing tools is simpler than a specialized optic ring. Took me forever to learn the new controls, perfect for repairs but other times, not so much. I didn't dare use the arm to drink energon or I'd be wearing it or throwing it on a bot next to me."
"Why don't you have it still? Another painful secret?" Jazz hesitated, hoping to get the answer on the mystery.
"Painful yes, not a secret. They even gave me a medal over it. I had to disable a transform cog in a city sized transformer. My rifle was lost, nothing else around to use and I uh, that is."
"You didn't." He winced, picturing what had happened.
"I did. Stuck my arm between the nearest rotational cogs, off lined what pain sensors I could and waited. Needed my legs to flee and my other arm didn't have the reinforced bars. No time to pull off other armor and we were so deep layered no bot could hear me screaming. I saved lives and swore I would always have a hidden carried weapon, one that could not be knocked out of my hand or dropped."
"Sounds like you did it the hard way sweet spark," he hugged her, proud of her strength to wait knowing the damage when the cogs moved.
"What makes you process I saw two choices? I had no time or tools and no help and if he transformed, we lost everything our strike team achieved getting us in there for recusing prisoners."
"I ain't knocking your choices as I am one of them," he reminded her chuckling. Later he would search the archives for a mission reference, always updating her personnel file.
"The best choice. What other surprises of yours do I need to know about?" She teased, wiggling her fingers into a sensitive area between his armor. His gasp and hard venting confirmation of the right spot. 'Thank you Arcee for the lesson on mech mechanics.'
"That's cheating Sols, torturing a poor mech captivated." His hand wrapped around hers, interlacing their fingers.
"In combat, there are no rules. The only unfair fight is the one you lose," Solspark repeated, relaxed he wasn't truly upset. "See? I listen and learned. And try and prove it."
"I can prove many things on you in our rooms," he murmured, a suggestive tone to his words before chuckling at her venting. Her medical training aside, the femme had no personal experiences to draw on and worried it was one more thing to drive Jazz crazy if he didn't know. Other times she figured Jazz knew and allowed the separate bunks for her needs. Most Autobots figured they were mated believing Jazz's cover reputation, Solspark never commenting when rumors were heard. For now, she rested against his shoulder, the night air calming. "Cybertron is that star," he pointed with his free hand, a holographic star map overlay showing the specific one.
"So far away, you can barely see it."
"Sometimes the best things are those right in front of you," Jazz stated, nuzzling helm to helm. Relaxing, they continued star watching until Solspark recharged next to him. 'Like being in the field on a mission,' he reasoned. Unwilling to move her and disturb deep recharging he watched, clearing their location with the night watch then Red Alert and Prowl as each inquired on their being outside after hours. 'What? I have a fan club?' Three more location pings, including one from Bumblebee returning from patrol and Springer also awake and he decided they needed privacy.
"Sols, time to wake up," he tapped her arm until optics opened, staying clear of weapons range as a precaution. 'Like being on a field mission with a really angry Predacon cub nearby.' The look she gave could have melted armor. "Love you too lady bot but we are about to have company if we stay out here much longer. Our beds await."
By morning Solspark was alone in their temporary quarters, the drill schedule clear for one day as Jazz worked on team reports preparing for the Wreckers to return to Cybertron. She should have studied training lessons, or boxing items to help Jazz but her processors kept returning to the online fan club. Jazz's club. Half an hour later and she was the newest member on Prowl's, Ratchet's, Optimus and Bumblebee's cross posted from his. The photos and human news media clips filling her partially in on history during the Autobots earth time. What kept her interest was the fan fiction posted there. Human made, it missed details on their existence that were annoying and yet intriguing in concept.
'Barricade a Decepticon transformer? Battle of the Cops by sunlightonthewater. Oh my! Prowl and him going back and forth pulling the others over and battling with the twins? Love it,' she giggled. Her respect for their security enforcer remained as she checked other fics, some out of character for his personality or missing the reasoning behind his stiff actions. The mature rated ones she skipped, not sure if she wanted certain images described stored in her processor, however inaccurate the physical descriptions.
Optimus and Elita were her taboo couple, loving the romance they had once she realized one of the authors had to be Elita herself. Fiction stories on Jazz she found entertaining, wondering how many were based on truth or human imagination only. Him as a Decepticon because of his hidden optics was an interesting concept. Then the fic "Put your love to the test." The accurately detailed story focusing on Cybertron, the time set early in the war and featuring Jazz with a femme love. A femme assassin who used him, revving him along without committing to keep her true intents hidden.
"You serve this Prime by choice or because of the power you wield under his authority?" Qualstar challenged, her optics narrowing.
"It is my duty, being part of a greater calling," Jazz answered, moving to stand behind her and let his energy signature tease across her sensors.
"My spark calls to you and for what? Endless meetings while my clan dies in the war spreading across the region into Vos. What type of leader lets death win?"
He caressed down her shoulder plates savoring the smoothness of her warm metal, "Prime will save our race. The battles are coming. What matters is now. The time we steal for ourselves. Let the war fade under the fire of our passion. Let my spark pour into your essence and bathe you in its light to ecstasy." His skilled hands moved lower, releasing her armor catches as her energy wave flared with passion. The screaming of the battle alarm shattered their peace, weapons appearing out of subspace.
"Go to your duty, I will guard here," she stated, pushing him towards the door. The moment he left, the nanite poisoned dagger appeared in her other hand. "I am your choice, but you are an option to me. A means to an end of a Prime. If you love me as a lie imagine how you could love with the right femme."
::Jazz to Solspark::
Nearly falling off the chair, Solspark focused on the room and the comm signal, the online fan fiction quickly closed. ::Solspark. Receiving message clear signal::
::Are you free or still on a moon base answering that way sweet spark?:: Jazz sent.
::My processor was elsewhere, and I would love to spend time with you:: Solspark admitted, her cooling fans up a notch.
::Elsewhere is better than with some bot hey. Finished the action clears for the Wreckers to leave and needed a break. See you shortly:: Jazz teased, closing the comm line.
It was hard for Solspark to stay serious around him that evening in their rooms. Her processes kept straying back to the image of Jazz as a lover. Shifting another pile of data disks, he grumbled good naturedly about repair requests and his day, unaware she imagined those hands running down her armor.
'Ok, stop with the wild routines. You both have responsibilities,' she processed, trying to read her data pad entry on variant archaic lock types.
Then he bent over the table, arm out to grasp the far spanner wrench about to fall off instead of walking around and her fans kicked on, fast. Her medical override killed it immediately but the caress of his hands on the tool, the careful checking across its surface for damage did not help.
Jazz paused, appreciating her attention directed his way even as it was out of character for her. 'Wonder what upped her driveline? Been in the room studying all day.' Curiosity piqued, he digitally checked the uplink and hid his surprise. 'Oh hey! Femme likes our online fics.' Optics hidden underneath his visor scanned her energy patterns intently. 'Still frizzy and not sure why. If this keeps up I will have to consult with Ratch. Hmm, better not add to it.' The temptation to waken her passion and complete a spark merge flashed in then out of his systems. His love was greater than any momentary fulfillment and her energy patterns too unstable to risk damage to her spark or its containment in their first merge. 'Another time my femme.'
Solspark fidgeted, her processes running high as the datapad dropped to the side of her chair. Stretching, her movements were tight and controlled.
"Want to race?" Jazz challenged.
"Where?"
"Two klicks the side auxiliary road takes a turn then runs straight through the forest to the hills. Optimus forbid racing on it against humans, but nothing forbids a little speed testing by us," Jazz offered.
"Your alt mode can beat mine, however, I do need to release some energy and carbon out of my systems. You're on!"
Returning to the Ark well past midnight local time, they pulled up to the entrance transforming and laughing. "That was awesome!" Solspark cheered, hugging Jazz tightly. Dirty and engine hot with maximum fans running she appeared to not detect the two energy signatures nearby. Jazz recognized the twins, ignoring Sideswipe and Sunstreaker knowing they were assigned guard duty for punishment after pranking Ironhide with glow in the dark paint. Neither would say a word no matter what they saw or heard, loving the fact they had inside information or processed they did.
::What have you two been doing?:: Sunstreaker sent to Jazz alone, seeing paint transfer colors on both as they neared the sentries.
::Practicing tuck and rolls for combat moves while shifting from racing to running:: Jazz answered, the truth.
:: Is that what they call it now? Tuck and roll? :: Sunstreaker commented but Sideswipe kept his optics averted as Solspark passed them. He might be many things but respectful of an unbonded femme was a courtesy locked into his core systems.
:: Call it anything I want Sunny. He's mine. You'll understand when you mature. Night twins:: Solspark teased, feeling their surprise as she hacked the communications signal. She resisted the urge to strut, too hot and worn down from practicing the tactical maneuvers while repeatedly transforming.
"Feisty feme taking the twins on. Should rev your engine more often," Jazz commented chuckling, his security link into the Ark cameras confirming the farther hallways were clear.
"Seriously? They were not even using an encrypted line. Sunstreaker's paint shine reflected halfway up the road no matter how dampened his energy pattern," Solspark corrected, armor shifting to let more air through to her protoform below.
"Could be worse, Hot Rod would have next duty if they stayed after losing track of you," Jazz chuckled.
"Scrap. You had to remind me. They leave in two solar days and I am going to miss them," Solspark admitted walking down the ramp. The lift would have been too confining a space until her system cooled more.
"What matters is now," Jazz commented, puzzled as she lost it laughing with fans choking on their highest settings.
The days passed and the morning of Wrecker's departure she said her goodbyes to Arcee and the others over their comms, wishing them the best. Jazz and the other Autobots stood outside on the landing pad, double checking the final loading of the interstellar shuttle and talking to Ultra Magnus. Conflicted, she was still searching for words to a certain mech when he found her by Teletran One.
"I couldn't leave without saying goodbye Sols," Hot Rod told her, smiling as she twitched in surprise. Alone in the command center, Solspark had relaxed, forgetting his stealth abilities were as high level as Jazz's when he wanted.
"Would you not do that! You are like a spark brother newly found. I want you to stay but I know that is not our path. I never had family before," she admitted, moving closer to him.
"Nice to be wanted and not on a poster," he wise cracked, struggling to find the words. He opened his arms, waiting for her to accept or deny his hug. She accepted, holding him tight without creating an energy response or sending any. "I am going to miss you sister of my spark," Hot Rod murmured, releasing her from the hug.
"Wreck and Rule and we will meet again this side of the Well of Sparks. " she stated. Transforming down, Solspark rolled for the main hallway, not wanting to see the shuttle lift into the clouds. Whatever they processed her reason it was excruciating for her to watch. Too many of those she loved or rescued rose in shuttles to never return or unload. Transforming up in the hallway by the floor lifts, she fought to bring her emotions under control.
"It never gets easier." Prowl's quiet comment filtering through. Leaning uncharacteristically against the wall, the white and black armored enforcer waited for her to focus on him. "I have watched thousands of our kind leave and not seen them again."
"How do you handle it?"
"By cherishing the time I had with them. Ask me not how they offlined but how they lived. I will tell you of laughter and times they fought as heroes. Of their families and their loves. Friendships made and kept over centuries in adventures that only those who lived it could understand and tease on. I calculate we shall have our share of memories and not regrets Solspark. The Wreckers are a formidable combat team and will survive the war. Here, Jazz needs you as much as you need him. In a different way but it is there."
"And Jazz needs you and you him." The sentence a statement, not a question.
"And you. There is strength in the unity of a team."
"Family, more than a team," she defined smiling. Prowl nodded, standing straight with his wing doors flexing and turning to leave. "Is there anything you need I can help with?"
He stopped, the black and white armored mech appearing to ponder the question while running calculations. Her question had not been expected and his response needed to be tempered to ensure the continued friendship. "I have a wing gear out of alignment."
"Leaning on a wall takes the pressure off for sensors to resend values, but you know that. Stay still and I can manually adjust externally through strut manipulation," she ordered, falling back on training. A breem later and he shifted, realigned and pain free. Playfully, she tugged on the wing door tip to test neuro response.
He raised an optic arch, pinning her with a command level glare while suppressing a soft chuckle. "Some might misinterpret that gesture."
"Let them. If Ratchet or First Aid tugged on you would they assume? I can weld any offenders to a surface as easily as Doctor Grumpy."
"I have no doubts. Good joor," he answered, striding off. Of the many responses Prowl could have answered, that was the safest.
To be continued…
Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and reading. More action coming with Decepticon attacks and focus on the other Autobots besides her and Jazz. And the fic "Put your love to the test" does not exist outside this fic, yet. When I first started writing, there were less than a thousand Transformer stories here and multiple thousands of readers. Now I understand the Transformers more, there are few of us left to carry on and many have fallen or spread throughout the stars and their signals lost. We are family and a team. Our destiny to create and continue. Until all are one.