Mission City, Nevada
October 28th, 2007
1330 hours
Jazz gained speed, lengthening his distance from Ratchet and the convoy. His gauges measured well beyond the legal speed limit of the roadway…Like he cared.
"So…" he started, "Whatcha go by?"
"Lyn," she answered.
"Lyn," he repeated. Odd human names. Wasn't sure if he'd get used to it. "What got you mixed up in all this?"
Her eyes were darting around his interior, not sure where to look.
"Uhm…"
"Hey, hey," Jazz chided jokingly. "My eyes are up here."
Lyn gulped and fixed her stare on her hands resting in her lap.
Jazz laughed and he felt her startle. Didn't humans like laughter?
"Kiddin', you can look where you want. I don't mind to show," he purred.
Her eyebrows furrowed and the rest of her soft face hardened. "You're making a lot of jokes and my world's about to end."
Jazz liked her bite. "I know. Isn't it the best time to laugh?"
Her tanned skin lightened to an entire shade, and she didn't look as healthy as she had three seconds ago.
"You okay?" he asked.
"It's true then," she said, dejected. "Humanity is doomed."
Depressing, much? Cute human, but Jazz hated dramatics. "Hey, hey. I was jokin'. Your kind's not doomed. How can it? The Autobots are to the rescue and you got Optimus Prime leadin' the charge. If anything, he'll make sure to save your fleshy asses."
Her dark organic optics widened. "How do you know?"
"How do I know?" Jazz exclaimed in disbelief, "We've been together forever. Prime says it, it happens." Whenever the topic of his leader arose, he tried not to get too carried away as there were a great many things that he could say about Optimus Prime. He could go on about him for longer than all of Lyn's waking days combined.
"Why are you helping us?" Lyn asked suddenly, genuine curiosity lined her question.
"We're the side that doesn't want to see your people blasted off the face of this rock, sweet thang." Jazz quieted some. "And because Optimus believes you're worth fighting for."
He wasn't very good at reading human expressions yet, but he'd thought it odd when her eyes became shinier. Trying not to dwell too much on it, he asked, "So, back to square one. What got you mixed up in all this?"
"I worked at Sector Seven."
"You mean the place that tortured my friend, Bumblebee?"
"I didn't know," she stuttered. "I...I wasn't aware."
"Easy, easy, I'm not blaming you. Your kind just gets a little too excited when it comes to aliens, right?"
Lyn nodded slowly.
"Besides, Bumblebee told me you were playing Sleeping Beauty in one of them deathtraps."
"The container?" she asked, surprised.
"If you call it that," Jazz said. "Yeah."
"How did he tell—"
"We've got our internal comm link — instant messaging. Kinda like "telepathy" except science can explain it," Jazz replied. "Cool, huh? I'm sure that's not as cool as being kept in a metal, airtight chamber. Don't humans need oxygen to survive?"
When she didn't respond, Jazz backtracked. "Not saying you do, if you don't want it but—"
"Did Bumblebee mention that I was about to die?"
A moment passed.
"Yeah," Jazz admitted.
He heard Lyn swallow.
"The chamber wasn't supposed to fail," she said. "It was supposed to keep me — us— blocked out from the rest of the world...f-for a few days...Until, the power shortage," she said. Lyn rubbed a hand down her face; she looked exhausted.
An average human could live for two minutes without oxygen before major damage to the brain occurs. Jazz had just looked that up, and despite the gravity of the topic, he was proud of himself.
"Why were you in there?" Jazz asked softly.
Lyn sighed, obviously trying to avoid providing an answer. "Does it matter?"
Their conversation fell in silence for a minute. But, he wasn't letting her off that easy. His biggest flaw: if he was curious, he didn't much care for feelings.
"Does it…" Jazz began, "Have anything to do with the ultrawideband signals comin' off you?"
The patter of her little heart quickened deep under the tissue surrounding it.
Gotcha.
She looked at the dash, panic just a lick in her voice. "How do you know—"
"Honey— you've been on my radar for the last hour. I felt you from miles away— a frag louder than the Cube, that's for sure. So, when Bee tipped me off about a girlie with short black hair and black eyes, I had to have you ride me." Jazz said, matter of fact.
He detected a rise in her body temperature. Yet, he dismissed it. She wasn't exhibiting any other symptoms of a fever.
"You're not like some, government experiment are you?" Jazz asked. "Bumblebee told me you folks are pretty nutty when it comes to science."
She opened her mouth to say something, whether a confession or denial, but then she bit it down, looking out the window, officially checking out of the conversation.
Jazz laughed lightly.
He'd let her this time.
After thirty minutes of driving in silence, the outskirts of Mission City emerged in his line of sight, an urban sprawl against a blue skyline. Jazz drove off the ramp, exiting into the city. For ten minutes he cruised the streets, minding humans carelessly stepping into the road. He noted that Optimus hadn't spoken over the comm since collecting the girl and Jazz worried some. If something happened to him, then all of this effort would have been for nothing.
But, this wasn't unusual for Optimus to go missing and end up somewhere where he didn't expect. But, that was always his leader. Wanderlust in the same way his thoughts could wander to dangerous places, and Optimus bared no restrictions or reservations to ideas and their frightening potentials. It's why this war started. This next battle would define Jazz's dedication to the value they both shared.
"Hey!"
Small hands seized his steering wheel and jerked it to the left, redirecting him to the center of the road.
"I know our rules for driving can be constraining but watch for pedestrians." The female snapped him out of his trance.
Getting sidetracked wasn't a good sign. It meant he was on the fringes of exhaustion.
Stupid. What was he thinking?
Jazz didn't get tired.
"You alright?" he heard Lyn ask just as he threw himself back in reverse.
A missile dipped from the air and into the ground, exploding in front of him.
Lyn shrieked.
The flames licking his hood indicated how his absent-mindedness threatened Lyn's life and Jazz cursed. Cranking his steering wheel to the left, Jazz veered into a street. A police car screeched to a stop, nearly hitting him. He followed the progress of a helicopter thundering daringly low in the street and circling back to their position. Seeing this, Lyn ducked in his seat.
His vocalizer dropped low to a growl.
"Slaggin spark of a glitch."
He didn't care for the names of many Decepticons, but this one Jazz knew.
It was Blackout, armed to the denta even in his alt mode.
Every wire in his frame vibrated with fury and if it weren't for the girl, he would've transformed into his bipedal if it wouldn't have put her in danger. Reluctantly, Jazz pulled back, burning rubber as he sped down the street.
Several hundred feet behind, three police cars tailed him, their sirens blaring.
"I think you ignored a red light," Lyn said.
"That's the least our problems, sweet thang."
To his left, a familiar black truck slalomed down the street. The thrum of its turbocharger was the sound of sweet Ironhide's arsenal coming to the rescue. Despite the chaos of the moment, Jazz cracked up.
"A-Ha! 'Bout damn time!" he said.
Panels on Ironhide's roof slid out before the truck rolled onto its side and his protoform shot up into a crouch, poised with two canons, ends glowing in a dangerous orange.
The three police cars swerved aside to avoid the massive black mech firing at Blackout. Ironhide aimed at the tail rotor and Blackout's blades blazed with fire. Tilting to the right unevenly, the aircraft crashed into the side of a building and cracked the road with its fall. Jazz wasn't sure if that had killed him, but the Con wasn't about to be transforming anytime soon.
The crackle of gunfire reached his audials as the policemen exited their vehicles and shot at Jazz behind the covers of their doors. The incoming bullets deflected off his hood like hail.
"You humans are really bad at this," Jazz groaned.
"What do you mean?" Lyn asked.
He didn't answer her when his comm link brayed with the voice of the Weapons Specialist.
"Should I exterminate them, Jazz?"
"No!" Jazz barked. "Remember? Optimus said not to harm any humans."
"They're bothersome."
"Yep."
"Ironhide out." was the reply before the hulking mech transformed into his alt-form and sped away.
All his worries caught wind once more as his sensors detected organic life a meter away from his front tire. When Jazz looked, the mangled body of a woman was face down unmoving in a divot.
"Oh no," Jazz murmured suddenly, rolling past.
When he felt Lyn's warm fingers press against the windshield in curiosity, he regretted saying anything.
Her hand yanked at his door handle with a force that he hadn't expected her small body to possess.
"Let me go," she said.
"Can't do that."
"Why the hell not?" she demanded. No amount of anger could veil the despair in her voice.
"You're too important to be on the streets."
"Important how? How is it important when there are people out there dying!"
"They're already dead, hun. Nothing you do is gonna change that."
Jazz swerved so fast she clutched at his seat, blunt fingernails digging into the material under her. He could tell it was more out of anger at the comment he had made. Fury was beginning to burn away her grief over the death of her kind much in the same way Jazz had felt when the Decepticons declared war.
There you go. Now, you're getting with the program.
"Ya wanna know why you're here? Well, you're on their radar too, hulkin' around the same signatures as the Cube," he explained hastily. "So as long as the Decepticons think I got it, the real one can be delivered to Optimus."
Her mouth hung open for two seconds before a growl ripped out of her throat.
"You're using me as bait? That's not what I'm meant for!"
"Ya think I care? I want to end this war, sweetie. I don't like seeing your people dead just as much as you do. Now, you want to help me fix this problem?"
His words silenced her entirely and her body had eased of its tension. He expected that. And now, he felt bad. He only wanted to buy Optimus time and divert the attention of the Decepticons - even if it meant endangering her in the process.
"Nothing's gonna happen to you," he assured, but it hadn't eased the creases on her forehead, or dried her glistening eyes.
"Hold on, " he alerted her.
Jazz charged through a boulevard, deflecting the explosions that dropped on his sides from a Decepticon jet rocketing after him. For a moment, he thought he recognized its signature.
Lyn thrust a finger to the front window. "Watch out!"
Jazz was too late.
A metallic foot dropped on his hood, crushing his engine. His electronic cry split his audials as metal talons dug into his frame, ripping his roof out of its welds. Pain coupled with fear rendered him completely powerless and he watched helplessly as Megatron vaulted Lyn into the air.
The velocity of energon pulsing through his cables hit zero at her scream.
"An insect?" Megatron's voice slewed his train of thought. "I may let you live if you show me my Cube."
"I don't know." Lyn whimpered, lost and hopeless.
"Don't be coy with me," the Decepticon leader growled and Jazz felt a flash of anger in his processor.
"Let go of her, ya rusted bucket head!"
Words would never stop Megatron, but that didn't excuse Jazz from doing nothing.
Megatron's red glare blazed with condescending amusement.
"Silence yourself."
The colossus stomped his pede again on his hood to worsen the dent and Jazz snarled in agony. Megatron's weight pinned him to the asphalt and the impact had lodged his arm further into its joint than was designed. Sensors were alerting him, set off by the obvious injuries inflicted.
"Speak!" Megatron bellowed at the human.
Megatron shook Lyn so roughly, any more force and he would snap her spine. Humans scattered around the scene in mass hysteria, fleeing from the hulking Decepticon. Jazz's hopes dwindled when none of them had thought twice to help the human in Megatron's clutches.
She's going to die.
Jazz's worst fear shook all other thought into oblivion.
She'd die and it'd be all his fault.
"Not today, Megatron."
Red and blue flashed across his vision before he could recognize the voice and the collision that met Megatron slackened his grip and dropped Lyn into Jazz's front seat, crushing his gearshift lever forward causing the socket of his jaw to jam as he suppressed a groan.
As Lyn struggled to right herself, his spark flickered with relief.
"Jazz…" she said, frightened. "You're—"
"Still alive."
Jazz dismissed the red dot flashing in the corner of his scans by disabling his pain receptors.
Optimus jammed his arm under Megatron's chin and the force threw them both back until Megatron met the building. His back disintegrated the brick into dust from how hard Optimus was pushing.
"They're weak, pitiful!" Megatron spat and kicked out Prime's leg, forcing the Autobot's arm to slip down his chest enough. Grabbing his helm, Megatron brought his knee up into Prime's face.
"You need to run, Lyn," he said. "Run and keep running."
But, much to his dismay, her palms gripped the inside of his interior.
"Scram girl!"
And then she did.
She sprinted for the safety of the buildings and disappeared without a second glance back.
Good. He hoped no one would find her.
But, he wasn't the only one who'd seen her leave.
With a frustrated growl, Megatron backflipped, transforming into his alt form and taking withdrawal to the skies. The sound of his retreating jets was the only indication that Jazz was saved. For now.
"Jazz…" Optimus got to his feet, his armor nicked and dented. He was definitely seeing more action than him. "Get up Jazz."
The plea nearly broke him.
Jazz ran a brief diagnostic on his vertical stabilizers. His legs that were tucked inside his alt form were breached.
"I...can't transform, Optimus."
His leader vented heavily and stooped down with a forlorn look on his face.
"You are foolish."
Despite his injuries, Jazz shoved through the cloud of pain. He was unable to keep the smirk from dripping into his vocalizer.
"You ain't got nothin on me, old friend."