Mission over
Jazz carefully checked his aim and squeezed the trigger three times in quick succession. The first shot grazed the thick pipe, the second cracked it, and the third split it wide open. Jazz then shifted his aim to the pipes carrying freon to the backup system and opened fire again. Klaxons started wailing as all sorts of indicators and gauges jumped to red zones.
"We're outta here!" Jazz yelled over the screech of gas whistling out of the breaches in the pipes. The three Autobots jumped down the chute one after the other, feet first and arms crossed over their chests as they shot down the tube, aided by the zero-friction fluid that coated the inside. Finally, the open mouth of the chute appeared ahead and they shot out, landing several meters away from the base of the wall.
They hit the ground hard, rolling with the impact. Sideswipe recovered first and yanked the other two to their feet, pulling them in the direction of the ravine. Behind them, the warning sirens of the outpost continued to rise in crescendo until finally the base exploded in a giant fireball, the shockwave tossing the three fleeing Autobots before it like leaves before a storm wind.
0o0o0
Sunstreaker awoke slowly, static filling his vision and slowly clearing away to reveal a smoke filled sky. He groaned and gingerly rolled to his feet, swaying slightly as he stood. He really didn't want to know how damaged his paint was after that little escapade; the damage reports scrolling across the side of his vision were bad enough.
A blackened and blistered Sideswipe lay sprawled not too far away, one arm twisted up behind his back in a position that could not have been comfortable. His vital signs were strong, so Sunstreaker rolled him onto his back and let him rest a little longer. Jazz was not much further away, the Porsche already online and sitting with his back against a chunk of rubble, holding his head in both hands.
The yellow twin looked back to where the outpost had been. A smoking black crater had replaced it, rubble scattered in all directions. He couldn't detect any life, but that was no reason to not be careful.
Ch-chink"Freeze, Auto-scum." A deep voice snarled, accompanied by a gun barrel thrust into his back. Sunstreaker silently cursed himself for being so stupid as to rely on his scanners and not do a visual check. "Drop the gun, hands up." The mech behind him continued. The warrior reluctantly complied, his rifle clattering to the ground as he brought his hands up behind his head.
"Sunstreaker!" Sideswipe's cry was ample testament to his awakening and seeing the situation. The Decepticon roughly locked one arm around Sunstreaker's neck from behind and pulled the twin around until he was facing Sideswipe, the gun barrel moving to the side of Sunstreaker's helmet.
"Stay back." The Decepticon warned. "Any funny business and your pal gets it. Now on your feet, nice and slow, and keep your hands where I can see them." Sideswipe slowly got to his feet, optics narrowed to thin azure slits against his smoke-stained face. Nobody threatened his twin without sever repercussions, repercussions that the red twin was more than happy to dish out.
But Jazz beat him to it.
The black and white suddenly appeared behind the Decepticon, his left hand spearing into a chink in the shoulder joint of the gun arm. The 'con let out a sharp cry and the laser pistol dropped from his momentarily nerveless hand. Sunstreaker immediately capitalised on the opportunity, pulling to the left and twisting so that he could snake his right arm up behind the Decepticon's back and pinch a particular spot on the back of his neck, forcing the warrior to let him go.
As Sunstreaker stumbled and hit the ground, the Decepticon roared and lunged at Jazz. The Porsche dodged out of the way and tried to land a kick on his much larger and much stronger opponent as he passed. However, the damage had slowed Jazz's reflexes and the 'con was able to grab the outstretched foot and throw the Autobot to the ground and into a ditch, out of the twin's sight
The twins heard them fighting for a moment, then there was a sickening crunch. Warily, they drew their guns and edged towards the pit, unsure of what they would find.
To their relief, it was Jazz who was the victor, standing over the body of his opponent with a laser knife in hand. A narrow hole in the Decepticon's chest explained the defeat, a foul mixture of metabolised energon, hydraulic fluid and oil oozing out of the neat cut.
The black and white finally noticed his two spectators, subspaced the knife and climbed out of the pit, glancing at the still burning fortress before speaking. "C'mon guys, let's get outta here before any more 'cons find us." He said quietly, his face unnaturally grim. "I've got a cam shaft t' pick with Magnus 'bout all this."
0o0o0
The drive out of the base was nowhere near as tense as the drive back in. The twins could practically feel the emotions rolling off the blistered and dented Porsche, and backed off accordingly.
"Jazz is furious." Sideswipe quietly transmitted to his brother, half of his attention on the road and half on the officer ahead of them.
"No duh." Sunstreaker snorted.
"Why do you think?"
"Dunno. Trust thing maybe."
"Why?"
"Guess 'cause he was trusting Magnus that all the info was there. Jazz doesn't like surprises, and that ambush was a doozey."
"True."
By the time they reached the entrance tunnel Jazz was nearly seething as they waited for someone to come up and escort them down. It wasn't immediately obvious, but to anyone who knew Jazz it was clear that someone betraying the close knit cadre of Autobots was more than a little rattling for him. Unconsciously, the twins backed off even further. This was not the Jazz that they were accustomed to.
Finally, the trio passed through the massive blast doors that guarded the command centre. Ultra Magnus was again at the map table, waiting for them.
"Magnus, we got sold out!" Jazz roared.
The giant Autobot sighed and gestured for them to come closer. "I know. Our spy reported it some time after you left. You were already in the dead zone by the time we attempted to contact you."
"Any idea who it was?"
"Unfortunately, yes. It was Updraft. He shot Skywatch just after they left the convoy. Luckily for Skywatch the attack wasn't fatal and he was able to radio for assistance. Ferric is repairing him as we speak. And before you ask, I have dispatched a team to track Skywatch down and investigate how he was able to infiltrate the base. We'll be moving our base of operations as soon as the next site is located."
"Fine. You'll get th' mission report in a few breems, but right now we've gotta get repairs." Jazz replied. Some of the anger had bled out of his voice and posture, but the twins could see that most of it still remained.
"Understood. I'll contact Ferric and tell him you're coming. Dismissed."
Jazz tossed off a salute and led the twins back out. They were almost at the doors when Nightwatch hurried in, going straight to Ultra Magnus and saluting before murmuring a few words too quietly for the others to hear. The shock on the commander's face was evident, and he laid one hand on Nightwatch's shoulder before gesturing in the direction of his office.
"What's going on?" Sideswipe asked.
"Let's find out." Jazz replied.
Outside, they found the rest of the 116's, all sitting or slouching against the walls in postures of dejection. Sunstreaker suddenly spoke up. "Where's Sharps?"
"We lost him." Caps replied quietly. "Minefield."
"An accident?" Sideswipe asked.
"That's what the report will say." Shadow replied bitterly.
"I see." Jazz said, his voice uncharacteristically grim. He very firmly took the twins by the shoulders and pulled them around the corner.
"Jazz? What's going on?" Sunstreaker demanded.
"You boys wanna know why I got outta this gig?" Jazz asked. He jerked his head back in the direction of the grieving Autobots. "That's why. Sharps didn't die from no accident. He killed himself."
There was a moment's silence as Jazz let that sink in. Then he continued. "Back on Earth, during World War Two in th' prison camps, they had somethin' called going 'wire happy', when folks just couldn't take being locked up no more and they tried t' climb the fences, knowing that the guards would shoot 'em. Out here, we got somethin' called 'Ops happy', when a 'bot just can't take it no more, snaps, an' offs himself by doin' something like runnin' inta a minefield or triggerin' an auto-cannon. Like I told you b'fore, most bots aren't naturally inclined to this, it goes against our programming and causes conflicts. Remember what I did t' that guard?"
The twins nodded mutely. It wasn't something that could easily be forgotten.
"Well, out here I learned how t' do that and more. I won't deny it, but for a long while I loved my job. Then I realised what I was doing, how often I killed, and I came this close," he held up his left hand, thumb and forefinger a few centimetres apart, "this close t' going Ops happy like Sharps did. Only reason why I didn't was 'cause I couldn't bring myself to end it all. Then I heard that a Special Ops was needed for Prime's unit over in Iacon. Changed tracks, an' the rest you know."
Jazz spared one last glance in the direction of the mourning Autobots, the visor making his face unreadable. Sideswipe supposed that was why he kept that visor, to hide the emotions that he couldn't conceal. There were several rumours flying around the Ark as to why Jazz had a visor. It was common knowledge that he used to not need it, then something happened and he had it installed. Now a days everything bar a mech's central cortex, spark and laser core could be replaced or repaired as long as all three of the trinary core systems remained functional, so there was no reason to retain a visor if he'd needed it because of an injury.
In one of those rare flickers of insight, Sideswipe understood. For a moment all that he knew about Jazz's past and present fell into place and in that same moment he pitied the black and white for the burden that he gave himself to bear. He locked optics with his twin, sharing the revelation, and both silently swearing to keep it buried and preserve the Autobot's sanity.
"C'mon." Jazz said quietly, gesturing to the hall. "Let's go. These folks need some time."