Things had been too quiet since the rescue two decaorns ago. Megatron had the seekers now, and Prowl knew the Decepticons had to be planning for an attack some time soon. But when? And would they strike somewhere new and unexpected or try for one of their neighboring cities again?

The Autobots had to be ready. Prowl had to make sure they were ready.

He checked his plans again and again. There were things they could try, ideas they had, strategies and formations and tricks. He was confident they could win a battle against the seekers, but only if he was on top of everything. Only if he didn't miss anything.

The pain from his wound had faded to a level that wasn't distracting, which was nice. But it almost didn't matter because he didn't have anything important to do. He'd already reviewed his strategies many times, and until the Decepticons did something, he couldn't adjust or put any of his plans into motion. While Orion had started taking a more active role in recruiting, he still stubbornly refused to go on the offensive.

Not that Prowl wanted to attack them right now—not now that the Decepticons had the seekers on their side, guarding the cities they'd already conquered. If the Autobots were going to go on the offensive, they should have done it earlier, while Megatron was still floundering. Prowl was sure he could have ended the war there and then.

Of course, they'd still have had the Council to worry about. And whoever took over the Decepticons would surely view Megatron's death as a martyrdom and use it to increase their following.

Prowl thought about what Yoketron had told him—his warnings about the war destroying both sides. He'd made it sound as if that wasn't connected to defeating Megatron, but the way Prowl saw it, if they defeated Megatron soon enough, then they wouldn't have to worry about the war destroying everything.

Prowl got a comm. from Jazz and answered it. He hoped this wasn't something trivial and useless.

"Hey, mech," Jazz said. "The seekers have been seen leaving Kaon in large numbers, heading southeast. Thought I'd let ya know. I'll send ya some better stats when I got 'em."

Prowl banished his musings about the war from his processor, and got up from his desk. The seekers moving almost certainly meant some sort of attack. He could run the battle just as easily from his office, and he didn't need his underlings to help, but Red Alert insisted that they all meet in the central room during battles for some unspecified safety reasons.

Probably because the elevator was off of that room or something.

It was nice that Prowl had some time to prepare for this fight, even though he didn't know exactly where it would happen. Asking the seekers to fly had been a tactical error on Megatron's part. He probably wanted to save power by reducing the number of mecha he had to groundbridge. He must have thought the Autobots wouldn't notice.

Prowl had almost reached the central room when Elita's voice came over the emergency comm. channel. "Decepticon soldiers have been sighted in Tagan Heights. All heads of departments to the command center!"

Tagan Heights? That was halfway around the planet from Kaon… why would the seekers have left the city, flying? They'd never get there in time to do help with the battle. Was it some sort of distraction?

...Or was Tagan Heights a distraction? Were those seekers going to attack a different city? Simfur was directly south of Kaon, but if you went southwest... the closest city in that direction was Slaughter City, which the Decepticons had already attacked once.

A double-attack. If the Decepticons drew the Autobots into defending Tagan Heights, then they could use the seekers to take the already war-weakened Slaughter City while Optimus's troops were too busy to do anything about it. Simple and clever.

Prowl spoke over the still-open comm. as he took his seat in the central room. "Jazz, about what percentage of the seekers do we estimate flew away from Kaon?"

"Not sure," Jazz said. "'bout a third, maybe?"

Then there were likely to be seekers in Tagan Heights as well. Of course there would be, or the second attack on Slaughter City wouldn't be much of a surprise since the Autobots would be wondering where the seekers were.

"Prowl?" Orion said from the center of the room, sounding worried. "We need to deploy the troops."

Prowl accepted the commanders' group comm. "Hold on," he said out loud while he synced with his computer console and the comm. hub.

Two battlefronts—and Prowl barely had enough soldiers for one, especially since the Vos fiasco had lead to a significant number of desertions from the army.

Two battlefronts, insufficient numbers, inferior air support in both places, and very little time to get into position.

Challenge accepted.

"Prowl?" Optimus said, this time over the group comm.

"They're going to attack in two places," Prowl replied. "I need to send mecha to both, and I'm still deciding how many. Elita are we clear to bridge inside the city limits of Tagan Heights?"

"Yes."

"Good," Prowl sent specific instructions to Ironhide and the mecha at the groundbridge station. He would send most of them to Tagan Heights, because the immediate fighting was there, but he had to send a small force to Slaughter City as well. They could set up an ambush for when the seekers arrived.

Thankfully, no one complained—at least to him—that this seemed risky. He commed Optimus to make sure, over a private frequency.

"Prime, if we abandon Slaughter City to the Decepticons we have a very good chance of keeping Tagan Heights. Our odds decrease if we try to defend both cities. I think I can still pull it off, but..."

Optimus's answer was immediate. "We will not abandon one city in order to save another."

As he'd expected. "Jazz," Prowl said. "I assume the seekers are going to Slaughter City, but I need you to keep an optic on it and let me know immediately if they change course."

"Got it," Jazz said.

Prowl pulled up video feeds from Tagan Heights and established independent comms with all of the unit leaders and a few hundred individual mecha as well. He activated his battle computer and a calm settled over him as his mental capacity grew. He was one with the war, one with the battlefield, one with the game.

And it didn't matter that his opponent was playing with more powerful pieces.

Megatron had grown too used to winning.

It was time to change that.

Jazz kept tabs on the seekers heading for Slaughter City. He was listening to the comm. channels, but didn't have much to contribute. This was how battles were supposed to be. Stressful in some ways but kind of boring in others because Jazz didn't have much part in them. Battles weren't his thing. His action happened mostly in between them.

He felt a little guilty about that, but mostly relieved. He could recall the last battle with vivid, nightmarish clarity, despite all the high grade he'd tried to drown the memories in.

Directing that many mecha and listening to them go offline by tens and hundreds might have been the worst experience of his life, and that was saying something.

He'd barely thought that—the battle had only been going on a couple of breems—when Prowl commed him.

"Jazz, the best plan to win this fight involves something I'm not familiar with. I need your expertise. Tell me what you would need in order to make it happen..."

Jazz could barely keep up as Prowl rattled off his plan. It was crazy. Brilliant, but crazy, and nearly impossible. Jazz hesitated.

"Can you do it? If not, I have a back-up plan, but it would help immensely."

Jazz shuttered his optics, trying to think of a way to make it work. "Okay, the problem with that is that we'd need the comm. codes of all the Decepticon soldiers, and there ain't no way ta get those."

"Are you sure? You did something similar when we were trapped in Perceptor's house."

"Yeah, but that was because I was hacked inta the Enforcement database," Jazz said.

"You what?"

"Also, we were in the same building as the enforcers. It's easier ta hack a comm. when ya're close because standard comms include spark signature as a secondary code, and ya can use it ta match…" Jazz trailed off.

"What?" Prowl said.

"I guess… if we had a way ta get close ta enough 'Con soldiers."

"Our soldiers are all—"

"But they'd need ta take some kinda device that could read spark signatures. So ya'd need one, or a handful of soldiers who hadn't been deployed yet ta go out there and get up close ta a bunch of 'Cons without getting offlined…"

"Easy," Prowl said. "Is that all?"

Jazz was skeptical, but decided to move on."I also need ya ta capture a couple of 'Cons, preferably field commanders, and I need a comm. adapter—two comm. adapters, actually. And it'll be best if we capture one commander from each battlefield."

"I can get you a bridge to Tagan Heights," Prowl said. "You can capture a field commander yourself. Anything else?"

"Hold on an astrosecond, ya want me ta go out on the battlefield?"

"Yes." Even Prowl's simulated voice sounded annoyed. "Don't worry, I won't put you anywhere you're likely to get killed."

Jazz remembered energon-covered floors, screams in the darkness cut off by his knife, explosions, enforcers lying offline in an alleyway, Branchbinder's optics finally going out... "Prowl, I promised I'd never kill anymech again."

Prowl didn't answer for a few moments, though Jazz wasn't sure whether he was actually considering that or whether he was just too busy for the moment to respond.

"Right now, I am your commanding officer, and you will do as I say. Do you need anything else to accomplish your objective?"

"Half a breem ta get some stuff from my office." Jazz said, getting up from his chair in the central room and scowling at the back of the Praxian's helm. "But that's it."

"When you're ready, let me know. We'll bridge you to the station where the Autobot seekers will be waiting for you to give them instructions. They should be able to get close to their kin without arousing suspicion."

Right. Those seekers who'd come to talk to Orion. That could actually work. He left the room, comming Glyph on his way out. The femme was almost as good at hacking as he was, and he was going to be too busy to do the desk work himself.

Part of Jazz had wanted to keep arguing about going to Tagan Heights. But he knew what it was like to be in Prowl's place, directing the battle, and he wanted to respect that. Besides, he'd known for a while now that he couldn't keep that promise forever.

He'd try, but a battlefield wasn't the place to pull your punches.

Ironhide stared at the swarming seekers above. Instead of groundbridging everyone to the same place, Prowl had opted to bridge units to different locations around the city, which took more time, and more processor power, but Ironhide could already see it paying off as plasma shots flew from the top floors of buildings, knocking seekers down from the sky.

Ironhide forced himself to look away from the fighting up there. He needed to be here, mentally as well as physically, on the ground.

Of course, they also needed to watch out for the seekers firing on them from above. Right now they were sheltered, but as soon as the Decepticons broke through the Autobot line, which wouldn't be too long, Ironhide and the unit he was with would have to go out into the open and fight. He didn't know the extent of Prowl's plan, but it seemed a lot like the first one. Hold the Decepticons off as long as they could and then Prowl would pull something out of his subspace pockets and turn the tables.

This time, though, the Decepticons outnumbered them by even more, and they had so many seekers...

"The Decepticons will break through in a few astroseconds," Prowl told him. "Be ready—they'll probably run right past where you're sheltered and you can hit them from the side."

"Got it."

"Make sure it's the Decepticons running past, though, before you start shooting, not a group of retreating Autobots."

"Heh. That's never happened before."

"Actually, we had trouble with it in the Tesarus—"

"Sarcasm, Prowl. Don't worry, I'll be careful."

"What? Oh, fine."

Ironhide shook his helm. Focus. He'd been spending too much time around Jazz.

The line buckled. Ironhide commed his unit and relayed instructions to them. He got reports in from around the city, letting him know how things were going elsewhere. This already didn't look so good, but he trusted Prowl now, and if the Praxian thought they could win this one, he wasn't going to give up on it.

Ratchet waited with the others. They had about ten full-time Autobot medics now, though most of the mecha gathered here in the makeshift Autobot groundbridge station were from a nearby hospital. There were still a few soldiers and other mecha coming and going. Jazz had come through a breem ago and, at Prowl's insistence, Ratchet had very reluctantly loaned him some medical equipment he did not trust the Polyhexian ex-gangster with.

Listening to the chatter over the command comm. Ratchet could tell the battle wasn't going so well. He wished Prowl would send the order for them to move already. He itched to get out there. Mecha were dying and he could do something about it.

He looked up and met the optics of the assistant director of the hospital. Pharma nodded slightly with a small, encouraging smile. Ratchet looked away. He still felt inadequate sometimes—after all, he had never graduated from the Academy. Sometimes he thought someone who had more skill and experience should be CMO of the Autobots. Of course, he'd never relinquish his job because then he'd have to trust someone else to keep his stupid, stupid friends from dying when they got themselves blown to pieces.

And he was improving, thanks to the experience of the medics he was working with. He had learned more about repairing mecha in the past few quartexes than all his vorns as a student.

Prowl's voice came over his comm. "Ratchet, prepare for deployment. You and your mecha know what to do."

"Thanks. We're ready," Ratchet said.

Reason dictated that he stay behind. Reason dictated that he wait in case Ironhide was hurt again, or someone else higher up in the chain of command. Reason dictated he stay away from the battlefield.

But he couldn't. He couldn't stand by while mecha were being hurt, and he couldn't stand by while other medics worked on them. Besides, when it came to fighting, he could handle himself better than most of the medics out there.

The mech operating the ground bridge entered coordinates and the bridge opened in front of the group of medics.

"Alpha Team with me," Ratchet said. "Beta team, get ready. We're going to do this like we did last time, you know the drill. Let's go!"

He led half the medics through the bridge. They'd leave the bridge open for the duration of the battle. It was safer to send injured mecha through, but sometimes you only had astroseconds to do something before they offlined, and so they needed medics on the field as well, to save those they could.

On the other side of the bridge was a wide open room with a door to the outside. Perfect for setting up triage. And mecha were already bringing the injured soldiers in, thanks to Prowl and his perfect timing.

Ratchet could hear the sounds of battle, outside the building. They were closer to the action this time.

He barked orders, but they were almost unnecessary. The other medics knew what to do. An older white and blue femme stationed herself at the doorway to sort and make judgment calls, and Ratchet moved to the front to receive one of the first injured mecha.

He knew some of them wondered why he didn't station himself at the door, whether he trusted his judgment, whether he doubted himself. He didn't. He could probably do almost as well as that femme at making assignments and sorting the injured, deciding who would stay, and who would be carried through the bridge back to Iacon immediately.

But Ratchet didn't want that job. He might be in charge, but he was a medic before he was an administrator. Always.

"Wow," Sideswipe said. "They're getting slaughtered down there."

"Pay attention!" their unit leader snapped. Sunstreaker aimed carefully and fired, knocking a seeker out of the sky. He wasn't sure how he felt about being assigned to the small team stationed in this building. He'd rather be down where the real fighting was happening, and he knew his brother felt the same way.

Still, it was kind of satisfying, shooting the seekers down.

It would be nice if Sideswipe would get his helm in the game though.

He watched out of the corner of his optic as his red twin raised the heavy-duty gun he'd been given and then lowered it again, staring out the window.

"What are you doing!" the unit leader demanded. "Don't just stand there, shoot at them!"

Sunstreaker went back to focusing on his targets. He fired again, and hit again. The seekers were flying ridiculously close to where they were. It wasn't hard to hit them if you timed it right. He sent a private comm. to Sideswipe. "I'm beating you. Five to one."

"Not for long," Sideswipe said, in a way that meant he was about to do something crazy and probably dangerous.

Sunstreaker frowned. That was a bad sign.

"Hey! Red mech!" the leader of the group said. "Are you even listening?"

Sideswipe subspaced the gun, shot a quick smirk over his shoulder, then put a pede up on the windowsill of the open window. "Hey, Sunny, watch this," he said, then leaped out.

"Wha…" the leader of their group said, but Sunstreaker had already lowered his weapon and stuck his helm out the window to look down and see…

Sideswipe. Riding a seeker.

Pit…

All right then.

"Did he just…" the mech in charge rushed over to the window to look out.

Sunstreaker waited for one of them to fly close enough.

Then he vaulted over the windowsill and dropped down. He felt the energon churn in his tanks as he dropped, but kept his cool, trusting that he'd timed it right. He landed hard on a seeker, and just barely managed to hold on as the Decepticon lurched and swerved.

Of all the stupid things…

The seeker cried out and flew in wild circles, breaking formation and nearly crashing into its neighbors as it tried to throw Sunstreaker off. Sunstreaker held on, gripping his ride's wings tightly. He tried to keep his balance as the world spun out of control. If this thing didn't stop fragging spinning they were going to crash.

Sideswipe commed him. "Isn't this fun?"

"You lunatic."

"You can control them," Sideswipe said. "Think about how they fly. Get a good grip on them and take over their center of gravity so they'll lose control if they don't move with you."

The seeker he was on was still trying to get rid of him. But he hadn't hit anything, so he must be in control of himself. Sunstreaker shuttered his optics, trying to feel which way was up and which was down, where the seeker was going, what his flight patterns were…

His optics snapped open and he stayed focused, waiting. The next time they came close to a building, Sunstreaker threw his weight to one side. The seeker screamed and darted away from the building they were about to crash into, then steadied in the air long enough for Sunstreaker to shift his weight and get in a better position.

He saw Sideswipe in the distance, clinging to his seeker with one hand, while his other arm was shifted to his integrated arm cannon. Sunstreaker's brother flew toward a nearby group of seekers, firing on them as he went.

"Get off!" The seeker underneath Sunstreaker yelled.

Sunstreaker grinned and pulled up on one of the seeker's wings, dragging him toward another group of flyers and scattering their formation.

"Ten to five, my lead," Sideswipe said.

Not for long.

Silverbolt was grateful that he wasn't being asked to kill any seekers personally, though he was still somewhat uncomfortable with this and he knew his brothers were too.

He, Air Raid, and Jazz came out the other side of the groundbridge onto an empty street, though the sound of weapons fire and screaming and explosions wasn't too far away, and seekers swarmed the sky.

"Okay," Jazz said. "Ya two understand what ya're supposed ta do?"

"Hold these, out of subspace," he held up the small, rectangular device Jazz had given him. "Blend in with the other seekers, fly near them, don't shoot at them, just get close to as many as possible."

"Ya got it," Jazz said. "Good luck up there."

Silverbolt nodded. He and Air Raid transformed and flew up to join the nearest group of seekers. The other three had been sent to Slaughter City instead. Silverbolt didn't like that his friends were being split up, but he understood that they needed to be in both places for this to work.

Jazz drove through the streets of the city at unsafe speeds, listening as Prowl directed him, keeping him away from the conflict for now. He sounded a little distracted over the comm. Jazz wondered how many conversations he was carrying on at once. That had to give you a processor ache, even with a battle computer.

"You're going to need to get behind enemy lines," Prowl said. "I've got a small unit waiting for you. You'll take command of them, and they'll help you get through. You only need a ground-based Decepticon officer, right?"

"Yeah, that'll work," Jazz said.

"Good. Turn left, then take the second right. You're going to hit some fighting soon. Just get past it."

Jazz skidded around the corner and sped up.

The sound of explosions and plasma fire got louder, and then he rounded another corner. Smoke filled the atmosphere, and he could see fighting on the second level as well, but not as much. He took a turn and went down a ramp, trying to stay behind the Autobots so he wasn't in anyone's line of fire. He felt a twinge of guilt just rushing past while these mecha fought for their lives, but he brushed it off. What he was trying to do would be more helpful than getting involved.

He felt kind of shaky, still, once he was driving on quieter streets again. He'd never actually been in a battle before.

He kept following Prowl's instructions until he got to a place where six other Autobots were crouched down behind a building as weapons-fire arced past.

"This unit isn't very experienced, but they were in the Tesarus battle, and they're good at following orders and working together. I'm sending you the route you should try to take, and a few alternatives if it doesn't work out."

Jazz wondered if Prowl knew the strengths and weaknesses of every unit individually.

He wouldn't be surprised.

He knelt down by them as one of them ducked out and fired up at the sky, then ducked back behind the building quickly.

"Ya ready sir?" a brown and green mech said.

Jazz nodded, recognizing the mech's accent. "Ya from sector seventeen?"

"Yeah," the mech grinned. "Ya too, huh?"

Jazz nodded. That sector of Polyhex was the only place you got that particular accent from. "Yep. Okay, let's go. Follow me, and we'll talk over a comm. on the way." "Prowl, could ya give me their comm. codes?"

Prowl sent them in less than an astrosecond, and Jazz opened up a comm channel including all of them. Jazz followed the map Prowl had sent him, and they went through buildings and down empty roads, while Jazz got to know these mechs a little and briefed them some more on what they were trying to accomplish. He didn't tell them all the details, but he told them enough that they understood the whole battle hinged on this.

He stayed in contact with Prowl too, until they got to the end of the map, which was down on the second level. They could hear fighting above them, but it sounded a little farther away.

"Wait for a bit," Prowl said. "They're right above you. I'll see if I can find a way to distract them a little so you'll have a better chance to get to your target. Once you've got him, send me your coordinates, and I'll send you a bridge."

"Got it," Jazz said, and came to a stop. The others followed his lead. "We're waiting for a good opportunity." He said over his group comm. with them. "Commander Prowl's gonna tell us when. See those stairs? We'll run up them, and he'll send us all the exact coordinates of our target."

They all responded that they understood. Some of them seemed nervous, including the Polyhexian mech from Jazz's sector, who happened to be the unit leader.

"I wonder if we know any of the same mecha," Jazz said, trying to lighten the mood, and always ready to make new friends. "What part of the sector are ya from?"

"South part, down by the acid river," the mech said.

"Huh. I know where that is."

"I'd have been younger than ya, though," the mech said. "I'm just outta secondary."

"Really?" Jazz said. This mech was already the commander of his unit… then again, Jazz was ridiculously young for his position too.

"Change of plans, he's moving away from your position, and we're running out of time." Prowl said. "You move now." He sent the coordinates.

"I'll take point," the Polyhexian mech said, and started up the stairs.

Jazz followed him, shifting one arm into a gun. Here was the part he was dreading. He might need to kill… The others trailed after him. Jazz steeled himself for whatever was up there.

They burst out at the top of the stairs, already firing, running toward the coordinates Prowl had sent. The nearby Decepticons seemed surprised at first, but it wasn't too long before they returned fire, closing in on Jazz's little group. In astroseconds, plasma fire was cutting through the atmosphere in every direction, and they were being attacked on all sides by the enemy. They stayed in tight formation and kept moving, though Jazz saw several of the mecha in the unit fall. He heard Decepticons shouting at each other not to use guns because they were missing and hitting other Decepticons. He kept following the unit leader, even as he fired a couple of stun shots to the side, taking down two 'Cons.

And then suddenly he was in front. He glanced to the other side, to see a Decepticon yank a long energon blade out of the young Polyhexian's chest plating. He saw the mech's optics go dark, and the small burst of spark energy come from the open wound.

Dead.

Jazz skidded to a stop, just for a moment, as shock and horror overwhelmed his core. And then that faded as the anger took over.

Ironhide and his mecha surged forward. They'd taken back this little corner of the city at least, giving some of his mecha an opportunity to take the injured Autobots and transport them to the nearby medical station.

He knew things weren't going so well in other places in the city, but he could hold this position for a while.

The Decepticons were even retreating, which… actually seemed suspicious. Ironhide ordered his mechs to stand down, fearing an ambush.

The Decepticons left a few mechs standing out in the open. Ironhide frowned. "Prowl, you know what the pit this is?"

"I don't," Prowl said. "Maybe start firing at those mecha, though, because they're probably up to something."

Ironhide raised his arm cannon.

"Now!" one of the stranded Decepticons shouted, and the others all leaped at him and…

Ironhide's optics widened and he couldn't believe what he was seeing. The mechs transformed into each other, merging into an absolutely enormous mech-shaped thing.

Oh frag…

They—it—roared and stomped forward toward Autobot lines. It stood at least three or four times as tall as Ironhide. The Decepticons standing behind it cheered, and started firing past it at the Autobots again.

"Prowl?"

"I see it," Prowl said. "I still can't explain it, but I see it. Aim for its helm and its legs, and see if you can bring it down. I'll send help your way if it proves to be as powerful as the Decepticons seem to think."

The giant grabbed a toll booth with a long spire on the top from the side of the road, ripped it up out of the ground and threw it at the Autobots. Mecha dove out of the way—the ones that were fast enough at least. He could hear the screams of those who were hit and crushed by it. Many of his mecha fired at the monster, but they were also under heavy fire from the Decepticons and the seekers above them.

"Fall back!" Ironhide shouted over the comm. "Get behind buildings. Shoot it from all sides to confuse it and don't let it get too close." They were going to lose some ground, but Ironhide didn't want to lose more of his mecha than absolutely necessary while they fought this thing. Prowl sent him a quick comm. approving his decision to retreat, and promising to help his mecha re-locate to safer locations.

The giant charged forward, chasing the retreating Autobots.

Prowl gripped the sides of the desk his computer console sat on, shuttering his optics for a moment, even as he issued orders to more than a hundred separate soldiers and groups of soldiers. He'd also just received news that the Seekers were going to reach Slaughter City in less than five breems, and then he'd have twice the directing to do. Things were not going as well as he'd hoped. No one had anticipated this… this war machine that had somehow built itself out of mecha. Not only was it powerful, it had frightened off the Autobot soldiers, and broken through the lines in a place where they could not afford to break. It was too close to the medics. If it reached their makeshift hospital, there would be terrible consequences. It needed to be stopped before then, but Prowl had no idea how to stop it. He didn't want to simply throw soldiers at it to distract it. He couldn't afford to do that, even if he'd been willing to sacrifice the mecha.

He could try to evacuate the medics. Ratchet wouldn't like that, but he'd understand. They could set up somewhere else.

The giant had a gun out now—what looked like an enormous rocket launcher. It fired at a group of Autobots, and there was an explosion big enough that it rocked the camera Prowl was watching from.

He forced himself to devote more attention to other parts of the battle, which were also not going well. The Autobot seekers were all right, but neither Jazz nor any of the mecha from his unit were responding. Prowl didn't even want to think about the possibility that they might have failed.

He might still be able to pull off a win, even without Jazz's role, but it wouldn't be tidy, and he'd have to stop this giant first. He had some of the wreckers on the way, but they might not be fast enough, and even worse, they might not be able to do anything. The many plasma blasts that had hit it hadn't seemed to do very much.

"Prowl, how are we doing?" Optimus sounded very worried.

"Don't give up yet," Prowl said. "But we do need to turn the tide soon."

He could still win this… but if he did, would the cost in lives be worth it?

Yoketron's words rang in his audios.

Don't let the war win.

Not now. He couldn't doubt himself now. Every tiny distraction cost him lives. If the war was the enemy, then he needed to be at peak performance level to defeat it.

Jazz wasn't in motion, he was motion. He fought with energon-covered blades, crashing through Decepticons, dodging and striking, taking them down two at a time, watching the surprise in their optics before the light went out.

They closed in on him at first, but he cut them down as they came, anticipating their attacks, using them against each other.

Every once in a while, he caught a glimpse of his target and he let that drive him forward.

The Decepticon soldiers started running from him, clearing his path.

Good.

He saw the mech he was after, and the mech saw him, turned, transformed, and fled. Jazz followed suit, racing after him, closing the distance before the Decepticon had even gone around the corner. He crashed into the mech from behind, sending him spinning to the side. Both of them transformed back to root mode and Jazz leaped on top of the other mech, raising a dagger.

The mech didn't even say anything, just stared, frozen, horrified.

Wait.

His mission hadn't been to kill this mech.

Jazz felt like someone had dumped a bucket of coolant on him. He lowered the knife slightly, and then set his gun to stun and knocked the Decepticon out. Then he turned and looked behind himself.

The bodies of offline and unconscious Decepticons littered the little clearing, and all was still and silent. One of the mecha from the unit he'd been with was standing in the middle of the sea of death, staring at him, looking almost as horrified as the Decepticon officer he'd captured.

Jazz subspaced his knife and looked down at his energon-covered hands.

He realized Prowl had been trying to contact him. He took in a deep vent and commed back. "Prowler, we got the 'Con, I need that bridge now. Here's my coordinates."

Then to the mech still standing, he spoke out loud. "Hey, see if any of the others in the unit are still alive." His voice sounded surprisingly calm despite how shaken he felt.

"Right," the mech said, tearing his gaze away from Jazz.

"Get them down ta the lower levels. I don't know if ya can get them all the way ta the med camp, so just hide somewhere, and we'll pick ya up after the battle's over." They were still behind enemy lines after all. Jazz didn't want to risk this mech trying to get back to the Autobots. He also didn't want to bring him with, into another soon-to-be war zone.

The mech nodded.

A groundbridge opened nearby.

Jazz dragged the unconscious Decepticon through it.