We lose people...We can't lose ourselves too.
A gout of fire rose and ballooned.
— You brought them to us—
Knock.
She could never imperil mankind, her own world.
'Em.
Captain Lennox's was an accusation was a bite that left its mark.
Down.
He didn't need to say it the first time. He didn't need to say it at all.
-.-.-.-
Nellis Air Base, Nevada
November 9th, 2007
0850 hours
Over the course of ten days, Nellis AFB's precautions had become increasingly stringent. After numerous recitations of his last four social security number, his birthday, his mother's maiden name, city of birth, he finally stood in the coolness of Hangar 3.
It was large, but the proliferation of central monitoring stations and computer terminals made the area seem cramped and uncomfortable. Large industrial curtains swept to the floor, dividing the hangar into quadrants. Through all of it, it took twenty minutes to find the one alien he'd been searching for.
Standing in front of one of the view screens, the tall Autobot typed at an industrial steel terminal was alit with motes of blue and white lights.
"Optimus Prime?"
The alien turned and Lennox could feel the faint vibrations travel through the ground under his feet. His massive shadow swallowed him in shade. It wouldn't be unreasonable that the man felt slightly anxious. One misplaced step would, after all, reduce him to human mush.
"Captain William Lennox with the United States Army," he introduced. "Do you have a minute?"
The Autobot leader nodded. "You and your men safeguarded the transit of the Cube to Mission City," he stated.
Lennox blinked in surprise. "You remember me?"
"I could not forget the faces who fought for the Autobot cause."
"Not just your cause. It's ours too."
Optimus dropped his electric blue stare to the floor. "I had hoped to keep humanity out of this."
"Maybe you were wrong to think that."
Lennox braced for some reprimand, but Optimus did not comment. Only stared with this regretful look in his bright eyes which denoted his demeanor for only a fraction of a second.
Optimus Prime then, in all politeness, asked, "How may I help you, Captain Lennox?"
Catching the hint of business, Lennox said without hesitation, "I was directed to forward some information relevant to you and your men from the commandant." He cleared his throat but ended up trailing off awkwardly, unsure of how to start.
"Please be assured that I have no expectations on what you might say," Optimus said. "I am not so easily prone to disappointment." A statement which was more true than Lennox would ever understand.
He eased a little. "No, it's nothing bad...but," the man said, regaining his confidence. "General Morshower says he doesn't want to keep you here any longer. We risk our secrecy since this base is shared with civilian contractors and their families."
"Understandable."
He leaned on his leg. "The general wants to relocate our operations to the other side of the world by the end of this month, at the latest. I can forward you the details later. I started working on arrangements yesterday but I wanted to get your take on it— these are your people, after all."
The mech's stare ran parallel to Lennox as he mulled over the information. After a minute, Optimus flicked his gaze to him.
"We will be ready by then."
The confusion must've been plain on his face because the alien elaborated. "I consulted the Autobots through our communication line. They have agreed to the terms."
"That fast, huh?" Lennox muttered. Distractedly, he glanced up at the catwalk and saw a technician in a white lab coat scuttling away and throwing a nervous look at the Autobot. Optimus hadn't seen it, but Lennox thought he pretended not to.
The man couldn't help the shadow of a grimace from overtaking his expression. After S7's dismantlement, a small portion of researchers were enlisted to aid this operation. He wasn't very delighted to see them join at first. But, two days ago, had only solidified that sentiment when he'd busted a few of them taking pictures of the Autobots and saving it onto their personal devices. He'd sent a courtesy report about specific individuals to General Morshower's assistant who was overseeing most of the human-Autobot ongoings. Lennox was told that the situation would be handled.
"It's too bad. You seem to have a good setup here," Lennox said, after the scientist was out of his field of vision.
"Indeed. The devices provided by Sector Seven are being put to good use."
"And the scientists?"
The mech looked particularly interested at the question. "They too are very helpful. However," he paused considerately, "Recently they've been less forthcoming to approach us."
It seems someone had made their point after all. Serves them right.
Satisfied, Lennox gestured at the large computer. "What are you working on?"
Optimus glanced at it. "I am encrypting an Autobot-specific message that I intend to dispatch later today."
"Into space?"
"Yes."
He didn't miss the implication that the message could attract more of his kind to Earth. Lennox was worried, but he wasn't going to ask Optimus if he was going to usher in an alien invasion. Instead, he asked: "So, more Autobots are out there?"
The mech nodded, though his eyes switched between each of his and his metallic features folded over in sadness. "But, I do not know if they are alive."
He shuffled in his place. "Maybe, you'll find some luck," Lennox said quietly.
-.-.-.-
Nellis Air Base, Nevada
November 9th, 2007
1000 hours
"Neuro readings are satisfactory — no fluctuations in sparkbeat or processor-waves," Ratchet listed and nodded approvingly. The lower half of his face was cupped in his servo as he regarded his stasis-locked patient laying upon a hydraulic scissor deck.
"Well, how is he?" Ironhide demanded irritably beside him. "You were supposed to do this cycles ago. How can you be slacking? I hope to Primus the day never comes that I'm triaged by you."
Ratchet ignored the gripe, though his optics nearly rolled into the other dimension.
"There may be some feedback effects to watch out for, so you might want to allow him some space as he configures himself. What did I just say, you stubborn clunk?" Ratchet jostled Ironhide back a few steps. "Stand here. Are those two words in your limited lexicon?"
Ironhide growled through gritted denta, "If you weren't the only medic—"
"Uh-huh," Ratchet cut off with a wave. As he looked at Jazz, a blue orb plumed out of his hand and he waved it over his body. "Initializing his reactive systems," the medic announced.
The weapons specialist tensed, peering down at Jazz in earnest. Without his knowing, Ratchet inched away from Ironhide, supplying enough distance until he was standing in line with Jazz's helm whereas the black mech stood near his feet.
Ratchet cleared his vocalizer as the holo-orb shrunk back and dematerialized. "Now, he might be a little—"
There was an audible click as the 2IC's left arm onlined.
"Jumpy."
As the word left the medic's mouth, two things happened at once. Jazz's left servo twitched, swinging out like an uncontrolled fire hose at full blast, and Ironhide stepped forward into the trajectory of an arm which morphed into an energon blaster. With a clang, he was thrown onto his back as the recuperating mech shot up in a panic, sputtering curses in Cybertronian. A disoriented Jazz aimed his blaster onto Ironhide powering on another shot.
"Stop, you twisted glitch! It's me!" Ironhide roared, hand extended outwards to halt another blast. On his shoulder was a smolder of metal, melted through the first layer of his armor.
Emerging from his panic, Jazz lowered his arm. "Hide…" the silver mech said in a ventless whisper. "Wh-where's Megatron?" His helm whipped from left to right, barely processing his surroundings. "Where's that fragger at? I'm gonna— I'm gonna punch that grease stain in the cod," he spat but, no amount of empty threats could mask his fear.
Ratchet intervened.
"Jazz," he said softly.
The smaller mech jerked his head over his shoulder.
"D-doc." He stuttered, "Y-you're alive?"
"We're all alive," Ratchet confirmed. "And Megatron is dead."
Jazz's optics fluttered. Ratchet thought the mech's processor was experiencing a hang by how still he had gone.
"Dead?" The 2IC repeated, incredulous. "But I thought—"
"With the help of the humans, he was distracted long enough for Optimus to defeat him," Ratchet explained.
Jazz was in quiet disbelief. "That can't...after all this time, it's finally happened?"
Ratchet understood the weight of his shock. He was still trying to get over it himself.
Ironhide got to his feet, shaking off the surprise of Jazz's abrupt awakening. Luckily, the round was harmless. Jazz's weapons systems were only stocked with concussive shots after Ratchet removed all his other armaments. It made it easier to repair his internal network without worrying about detonating something by accident. Not that he could make such a careless mistake, but he could go without the risk.
"If you don't believe him, I can playback my logs to you," Ironhide huffed. "The fleshlings put up a surprising fight."
Jazz turned his head to Ironhide, but then something else caught his vision: his mangled body below the waist. There were a myriad of emotions passing over his faceplates: anger, regret, alarm. Despite this horrifying discovery, his reaction was a mere sigh. Albeit, a sad one.
"You won't be able to transform for some time," Ratchet answered Jazz's shock, clinical undertones kicking in. "Both of your stabilizers—"
"Save me the medical spiel, Ratch," Jazz said tiredly, looking away from his warped legs. Sparks from his electrical systems crackled from stripped armor cables protruding from his abdomen — a crater in his protoform where Megatron had stabbed his claw through him. The sight was hard enough to stomach, he didn't need a verbal retelling of it. "I know what this means."
Ratchet and Ironhide exchanged worried glances.
"Listen hear sparkwit," Ironhide began heartily, "We've been through alot worse than this, right? Remember, when we were trapped in the Sonic Canyons with Blitzwing on our tailpipes? Had both my cannons offlined, while you'd fallen in some toxic pit that short circuited your weapons system. You remember?"
Jazz's smile was faint, but there. Ratchet knew it was mostly to indulge the black mech.
"Yeah."
"When that canner had me in his crosshairs, you detached your own leaking arm and force jammed your blaster to explode on an archway he passed under. Slagging thing landed right on top of him!" Ironhide raised his hands dramatically. "That was the closest we've even been from the plug. This is nothing!"
The statement was a poor misstep because Jazz flinched, but no one saw it. Nor did they see his smile evaporate.
Ratchet snorted amusedly, unknowing as Ironhide. "And the two of you idiots were sparking mad to end up in front of my unit while I was recharging."
Ironhide hooked his thumbs over his the corners of his hips. "I don't know what you're scrapping about. If we hadn't secured the energon plant there, the Cons would have taken it for themselves. You ought to be grateful to us you had an extra vorn to fill your tanks."
Ratchet's frown revealed the beginnings of an insult until his optics shifted upwards and he stiffened.
"We heard commotion," Optimus said. A human trailed behind him.
Jazz jerked at his voice and immediately looked down at his lap, keeping silent with the hope that it would make him invisible. Though, Optimus had already known him to be awake.
"Ah…" Ratchet said, "No matter. It was just Ironhide. Clumsy. As always."
"Excuse me?" Ironhide snapped.
Casually, Ratchet looked at the human lingering near his leader's pedes. Optimus noticed the medic's curiosity upon his face and said, "I believe you all are acquainted with Captain Lennox."
"Hey," the man replied casually with a wave.
"I do recall," Ratchet replied.
Ironhide observed him. "A bit small, isn't he?"
"I'm right here, just so you know," Lennox said pointedly and crossed his arms.
"That's why I said it," Ironhide grumbled.
"Ignore him, Captain," Ratchet said to the male and shrugged. "That's what I do, at least."
Lennox was about to open his mouth when his attention zeroed in on one mech he did not expect to see awake.
"Hey! Look who's finally up."
From the corner of his eye, he saw Ratchet sending him a series of sharp headshakes and a cutting motion of his hand in front of his throat, dissuading him from speaking to the recovering mech.
But, despite the medic's efforts , Jazz acknowledged him, upper body bending slightly over the lift.
"'Sup."
"It's good to see you awake. And I'm expecting to see you back on your feet—" Ratchet and Ironhide simultaneously cringed. " — because I'm sure you heard." Lennox swung his gaze over all of them. "I'm sure all of you have heard— we're moving headquarters. Hopefully to somewhere not as constraining as here."
Jazz wasn't awake to receive the message on the Autobot channel, but he played it off. "Sounds good. I've been online for three kliks and I'm already tired of looking at these walls," he stated. Then with a tilt of his head he asked, "Say, you know how the girlie's holdin' up?"
Out of the four mechs, a single pair of optics flashed. For a second, Ratchet looked worriedly at Optimus.
"I haven't spoken to her for a while now. She was staying at a hospital on base but...she seemed to have checked out. I don't know where she is. She was probably handled in the same way most of the S7 employees were. Sent home with loads of compensation to stay quiet." He said, but he didn't how confident he was in his answer. With circumstances as unique as hers, it seemed unlikely for the government to simply let her go.
Jazz frowned.
"Shame," the silver mech said, "I owe her one."
Optimus broke his silence. "If you do not mind, Captain Lennox," the Autobot leader began. His usually measured speech was hastened incrementally but it was noticed by the three mechs who all flinched. "Ironhide can introduce you to our youngest fighter, Bumblebee, while I speak to my lieutenant regarding these recent turn of events."
The man was caught unaware and merely agreed. "Sure. We can come back to this later, Prime. Thanks for talking with me."
Ironhide gestured to Captain Lennox. "Come along, human."
He followed the black mech whose longer strides had forced him into a half-jog. Once they were out of audial shot, Ratchet watched Optimus promptly turned to Jazz, his legs locked in place, and feet in line with his shoulders.
"Jazz," Optimus said, "We must discuss your actions in Mission City."
The silver Autobot hummed amusedly. "You mean the part I was out half the time?"
"Your questionable judgement put another life in danger."
"Questionable?" His grin fell into confusion. "C'mon, O.P., she wasn't even hurt."
"Does that justify endangering her life?"
The accusation seemed to bite into Jazz. "Have you chewed out Bee yet? 'Cuz he was supposed to watch Sam and the Allspark."
"Bumblebee left Sam not by choice," the Autobot commander intoned. "And you were well aware of how her condition put her at risk."
"Then, she would'a been in danger either way."
"That was not to be interpreted as an invitation."
A cable pulsed in Jazz's neck, coursing the rising tied of boiling energon. "Why is this a big deal? This is her slagging planet and she wanted to help, just like our captain there, just like Sam. They willingly risked their afts. And by the looks of it, nothing was lost. In fact, we fragging won!"
The taller mech remained unmoved. "You are relieved of your rank."
Jazz's head snaked back. He'd expected him to have more tact, but Optimus gave no forewarning. "Wh-what?" he asked harshly, shocked by the abrupt turn in conversation.
"Since you cannot operate unrestricted duties, Ironhide will assume your position."
"You gonna pull that on me now? Fine," Jazz whispered in a voice exposed from all the surface emotion which tried to hide his hurt. It didn't stop him from sounding equally bitter. "I'm sorry I put her in danger, but I couldn't have passed up the opportunity. Just because you can't stand to see a few human lives offed, doesn't mean I wouldn't do it again."
His leader's servo twitched.
"Ratchet," Optimus indicated tonelessly
Hesitantly, the medic, who had remained a bystander till now, stepped to the side and into the mech's field of vision. "Jazz, you can't maintain your position and responsibilities in this state."
"I'm fine," Jazz declared.
"No, you're not," Ratchet said firmly. "Until we can find more protomatter, you will not be able to replace your legs and switch between modes." A little quieter, he added, "Nor will you ever be able to function as you had in the past." It was no secret to anyone that there was more damage than what was evident on the surface.
Jazz tore himself away from Ratchet's patronizing stare and looked defeatedly at his legs.
"I can get better."
"Not on your own," Ratchet said and placed a hand on the mech's shoulder. "But, we can find a way."
Jazz winced. "I don't need it," he pleaded. "Just...I need a klik— ...I need to think."
The medic removed his hand and stared at Optimus who'd steadily met his gaze.
Their silent exchange resulted in his leader walking away and Ratchet shortly followed him after casting Jazz a sympathetic glance. However, the silver mech didn't see it. He refused to acknowledge their leave.
When there was enough space to prevent the travel of conversation from reaching anyone's audials, Ratchet tried to capture Optimus's attention in a hushed tone.
"Optimus— Optimus please. This is unlike you. I know Jazz has— at times— acted impulsively, but he does act with the best intentions."
Ratchet was troubled when he noticed his leader's strides did not falter. "Could you please stop and listen?" he said, his voice taut, betraying the demand in his words.
To his relief, Optimus obliged, stopping in his tracks and turning enough to reveal his side to him. But, just as quickly, Ratchet's anxiety rebounded and grew as he stepped close to the taller mech, peering into an indifferent set of optics.
"You'd asked me before if you had changed," Ratchet said cautiously, "I think I know the answer now."
"Jazz disobeyed the rules of our engagement with the humans. We agreed that neglecting their safety will not be tolerated," Optimus said, "As the situation calls for it, I am being firm with him."
"I played along because I thought this was for his own good— his health. Not a punishment." His optics dropped to the floor for mere moments before lifting. "Jazz has been at your side since...before the war. After everything you two have been through, please don't see this as a betrayal," Ratchet said wearily. Even in a war that had been won, they were suffering from forces which couldn't be fought with gunfire and violence. The worst type of war were those erupted from within. And the cause of this particular war was one he didn't fully understand.
"It's not that..." Optimus said, the blue hue of his optics darkened.
Ratchet reeled back in surprise.
"What do you mean?" the CMO asked, the urgency in his voice uncontained. Even if Jazz had known Optimus the longest, nothing about their leader could ever get past Ratchet and this mech's rigid frame was its own open book. Something was bothering Optimus and— by the looks of it — has been for awhile.
But the mech didn't answer, silently walking away, the desire for distance conveyed through his elusive behavior.