Introduction: These are a couple of scenes that I cut from Revolution chapter 54, because of pacing and timing and various other problems. But I figured I'd give them to you anyway. The first scene actually happens before the end of chapter 53. The second one probably happens sometime early in chapter 54.

Jazz's optics flew open as he came online with a start. A flood of damage and low energon warnings flashed through his processor, but he pushed it aside, spark pulsing rapidly.

What time was it?

How long had he been unconscious?

"Jazz."

He froze for a moment, then turned his helm to the side so he could see out the bars of the cell. "Oh," he said, trying to sound cheerful, and pushed himself up to a sitting position. "Blackie. It's been a while."

Blackangle crossed his arms. "I was there when you almost escaped. Remember?"

"Yeah, but ya didn't say anything," Jazz said, pressing a palm to the gaping hole in the side of his helm as his pain grid came online. "What do ya want?"

"You're losing your edge," Blackangle said.

Jazz frowned, offended in spite of everything. "What?"

"The Jazz I knew would have escaped orns ago. And you know, you'd probably be in better shape if you didn't talk back so much."

"Can't help it, mech," Jazz said.

Blackangle was the one losing his edge. Jazz knew exactly what he was doing.

Well…

Kind of.

"Yes you can," Blackangle said. "But that's beside the point."

"Yeah?"

"We were friends, a long time ago. You remember that?"

"Yeah." Jazz started trying to get to his knees so he could stand up. One of his legs was badly damaged, but he was pretty sure he'd still be able to walk.

"Hegemony was really angry at you when you left Quantum. He wanted you hunted down and killed."

"Figured." He needed Blackangle to tell him whether Orion and the others had turned up yet. If so, he might be too late.

"But that was Hegemony. I have nothing against you."

Frag it. He hadn't anticipated being this badly hurt. Of course, he hadn't anticipated getting captured to begin with, and he'd really hoped his friends would recognize the impostor who had returned to Iacon in his place. He'd told them to be careful about that.

"And I think we both want to see Megatron fall."

What the pit was Blackangle even talking about? Was he trying to recruit Jazz to help him with his coup?

"I could use an ally," Blackangle said. "Especially one like you. I can get you out of here."

Yep.

Jazz used the bars of his cell to pull himself up to a standing position. Sudden dizziness faded to a heavy pounding in his helm. He met his old friend's optics. "And what are ya gonna do?" He said quietly, "If ya do get rid of Megatron?"

"Does it matter?" Blackangle said. "I'm offering to set you free. How much longer do you think you'll last here? By the time your friends even know you're here, it'll be too late for them. Megatron is about to take over the world and then I'm going to snatch it from him. I'm going to rule everything, Jazz."

Jazz smiled sadly. "As soon as I stopped being useful ya'd have me offlined."

"If we're working together, you won't stop being useful."

Jazz was silent for an astrosecond. Maybe if he thought Blackangle's plan was going to work, he'd consider trying to make a deal. Primus knew he was going to have a hard time rescuing his friends on his own in this state.

But he'd already set some things in motion to help the others escape.

Besides…

"Look…" Blackangle said.

"I'm not gonna help ya."

"I can get you out of here. I can get you medical attention. I might even be able to save a few of your Autobot friends if you'll help me."

He wasn't outright offering Jazz a deal, which meant he probably hadn't captured them yet.

That was the first good news Jazz had heard in a while.

Now he just had to get rid of Blackangle so he could get out of this cell.

"Jazz…"

"Mech, ya're smarter than Megatron, and I trust ya even less. I'm not gonna help ya take over the world. When I left Quantum, I left it for good."

"Then you really are a fool."

"That's the problem with the 'Cons' philosophy, isn't it? Sometimes ya take down the corrupt leadership and something worse rises ta fill the space."

"Don't preach at me. I'm not the one throwing away his one chance at freedom. You can either help me take down Megatron or you can leak to death in this cell. My guess is you could last another orn or so without a medic before you offline."

Jazz rested his helm on the bars of the cell door. It was strange to feel the smooth metal rubbing against the brand on his faceplate and the jagged edges of his shattered visor.

"I don't have time to sit and wait for you to make up your mind," Blackangle said. "I'll come talk to you again in a few joors."

Jazz shuttered his optics and listened as his former friend's pedesteps faded, followed by a slamming door.

Jazz's tanks lurched and he gripped the cell bars harder, coughing. The last of the energon in his tanks burned its way up into his mouth and trickled past his lip plates.

Frag it.

He'd been right about how easy it was to make Starscream angry, and how willing that stupid seeker had been to explain Megatron's entire plan to him. But he'd gone a bit too far. Granted, he'd been in a bad mood too. He'd been frustrated with himself for letting Soundwave pull useful information from his helm, disappointed that he hadn't managed to escape by that point, and angry at Starscream, who had apparently been the one behind the destruction of Vos, as well as the plan to lure his friends here…

He didn't have time to think about it.

He had to get out of this cell and find the others before he passed out again.

He leaned harder on the door and opened a secret compartment on the inside of his arm, where he kept a small knife that also doubled as a lock pick. His helm was pounding still, and it was hard to focus, but he managed to get the cell door open after a few breems of frustration.

He limped past the other cells and to the door, which he also had to unlock.

Then he was out in the halls of the Decepticon base.

It was a good thing in some ways that the 'Cons were out attacking Iacon. It meant he probably wouldn't run into anyone by accident. He knew where all of Blackangle's mecha were, and where all of Starscream's were, so he could avoid both parties. If someone did see him though, it was all over. He probably couldn't beat a sparkling in a fight right now.

Thundercracker walked down an empty hall. Starscream had some sort of elaborate plan for stopping Blackangle. He had told Thundercracker to meet up with a handful of other seekers and defend the throne room from any Quantum mecha who came to help their leader.

But Thundercracker had no intention of following his brother's orders.

In the chaos that Starscream's plan would kick off, no one would notice if Thundercracker was gone. No one would look for him until it was too late. It was the best opportunity he had to slip away. He couldn't go back to Vos, but he could go somewhere else. Hopefully Megatron or Blackangle or Starscream or whoever ended up on top of this fight wouldn't care enough to hunt him down.

He was done with this place. He didn't even want the Decepticons to win the war. The thought that by the end of the orn all the Autobots might be offline made him feel sick. The other seekers' hatred for the Prime was misled anyway. Megatron was the one who'd destroyed Vos. Megatron and Starscream.

They were the ones who needed to be stopped.

Thundercracker couldn't do that. But he couldn't stay here either.

All he had to do was get out unnoticed, which would be easy because practically the entire army was gone.

Then he turned a corner and almost crashed into a mech going the opposite direction.

They both froze, staring at each other for a few moments. Thundercracker couldn't look away from the mech's damaged, energon-stained frame.

Then the mech took a half step back and pulled a knife out from somewhere. He gripped it in a trembling hand, glaring.

Thundercracker's optics widened as he met the other mech's determined gaze. "You can't be serious," he said, crossing his arms.

The knife point dipped slightly, and Thundercracker's would-be attacker pressed his free hand to an oozing gash in his side. "Not where ya supposed ta be," he muttered in obvious frustration.

"I'm not where I'm supposed to be?" Thundercracker raised an optic ridge. "How are you… how did you even…?"

He looked like he was about to collapse. Acid burns, deep, leaking gashes, and a gaping hole in the side of his helm—the fact that this mech was even conscious…

Thundercracker hesitated, then made a decision.

"You need help getting out of here?"

The mech stared, lowering his knife further. "What?"

"I'm leaving," Thundercracker said. "I can help you get off the base without getting caught."

The mech shifted over to lean on the wall. "I… recognize ya, seeker, from somewhere…'

"Yeah," Thundercracker crossed his arms. "You locked me in a closet once when we were younglings."

"Oh," the other mech said. "Right. Sorry, mech."

"Doesn't matter. I'm not leaving you to die in this hallway, and I'll already be in trouble for deserting, so I might as well take you with me. Are you coming?"

The mech shook his helm, shuttering his optics. "I gotta—" his frame spasmed and he coughed a few times. "—go make sure my friends make it outta here. Guess I could use some help with that, though."

Thundercracker shook his helm. He could leave, and he could let this prisoner go instead of sounding the alarm, but actively working against Starscream would be going too far.

"Sorry," he said, trying not to feel guilty. "I can't."

"'sfine," the other mech said. "Good luck… Thundercracker."

Thundercracker nodded. "You too, Jazz."