It Resonates From the Sun
Request for Starfire201.
Guest: Glad you got a kick out of it!
LesleyM: Oh gosh! Didn't mean to kill you! *sends Lambos in for CPR* Sunny makes EVERYONE melt, so you're not alone ;)
Guest2: If Sides defected, there would be a chance of the enemy surrendering. He's just THAT good.
Rotorhead: Glad I could provide you with some laughs and strange looks. Always a bonus!
Everyone else- Messages are in your inboxes! I answer each and every one via the site! ;)
WARNING: May need clean panties
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"Hey guys, wait up!" Jazz called, running down the hall and catching up with the two new recruits.
They both paused, but Sunstreaker advanced a few more paces, clearly indicating he wished to continue and not be bothered. When he turned his dark gaze to the Special Ops mech, it was with deliberate slowness and a piercing stare. Jazz skidded when he joined them, his visor flashing toward Sideswipe who was looking mildly interested in the smaller black and white mech.
"Where are you guys headed?" Jazz asked, his vents huffing to cool his systems as he had ran the expanse of the compound to catch up to the notorious twins.
Ever since he read the intelligent reports of the twins, and his spark thudded in excitement with the prospect, he was curious to see if he could persuade them to join his unit. Just the idea of having illicit beings in the ranks was enough to make the enemy pause. If they knew they were fighting a statistical anomaly, and the bane of Primus, they'd think twice about engaging. That was a tactic Jazz was more than happy to employ.
"Help you with something?" Sideswipe asked, a brow ridged cocked. He felt his brother's apprehension fill the bond but kept his face neutral.
"Just wanted to see if you were going to the commissary" Jazz said, taking a step toward Sunstreaker in a subtle gesture to get the duo moving again. Sideswipe took the unspoken cue and together they walked down the hall.
"We have training this afternoon," Sideswipe said, nodding to the far outer courtyard where Ironhide was giving his tutorials. "That lug of nuts believes he can teach us something of merit."
"Fool." Sunstreaker rumbled, his voice deep and earning Jazz's instant attention.
Sunstreaker noticed Jazz's perk expression and smiled grimly to himself. It looked like they found another bot who wanted to tag along and play in their shadows. Well, that wasn't going to happen. Mechs were terminated for less and Sunstreaker didn't want to deal with a constant shadow following him and his brother around like a lost turbo puppy.
"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Sunstreaker asked, noting Jazz kept pace and seemed to bounce along on his pedes as they made for the courtyard.
"Just got back from mission actually,' Jazz said, grinning at Sunstreaker, before giving him a sincere look. "You have a nice voice."
Sunstreaker recoiled, not used to compliments. Sideswipe instantly filled their bond with laughing adoration.
'You have an admirer,' Sideswipe said over their twin bond.
"I don't berth minis" Sunstreaker said, casting a sidelong glance at Jazz. He was rewarded with a sputtering vent and faltered step.
"Wha…" Jazz asked, taken completely off guard. Whatever he thought, that wasn't it. "What are you talking about?"
"Not interested in minibots, nor berthing anyone on this base," Sunstreaker said, his tone taking on a dangerous edge, a subtle hint for Jazz's intentions to hit the road and not look back.
"Mech, you misunderstand me," Jazz said, giving Sunstreaker a look like he was appraising the golden frame. His optics roved the perfectly polished and symmetric body before he smirked, a noise escaping him like a puff of disgust. "You're not my type, no matter how pretty you make yourself."
Sunstreaker's fists curled, readying for a fight. He didn't know why his dismissal made him angry. He should be happy that the small black and white officer had no romantic inclinations. That would have been a relief in many cases. But for some reason, his disinterest irked Sunstreaker. Sideswipe set him a questioning glare that Sunstreaker ignored.
"Like you would stand a chance!" Sunstreaker snapped, determined to have the upper hand.
"I didn't mean you were berthable," Jazz said, continuing on as if the strange misunderstanding never took place. "It's just, I love music, and I have a few compositions that your voice would be perfect for." He gave Sunstreaker a faint smile, his visor glowing a bright blue. "If you are so inclined."
"Sunny? Singing?" Sideswipe gasped, his laughter winning out and drowning his voice. He earned himself a whack upside the helm, causing him to staggering into the bulkhead of the hall before catching himself.
Jazz couldn't stop his jaw from hitting the floor at the sheer speed and power behind Sunstreaker's strike. He barely registered the golden blur before Sunstreaker was inert beside of him once again.
Sideswipe laughed off the attack and smiled at his brother, both flooding the bond with affection and satisfaction at seeing the stunned mech witnessing their prowess.
"Amazing," Jazz gasped. The golden warrior flexed his body showing the power behind his frame as he turned in slow motion, his gaze falling on the much shorter mech.
"You should teach everyone to move like that," Jazz said, feeling his lines run cold though he refused to show any outward appearance to the fact he was internally freezing.
"Like you would stand a chance." Sunstreaker sneered; looking down his olfactory sensor to the mech he considered a minibot though Jazz did not fit into their sub-category.
"Brute strength isn't always needed, but it has its place and serves it purposes," Jazz's outward appearance showed no discomfort. "But like all things, they can be easily thwarted and not all battles can be won with sheer brute strength."
Sunstreaker turned fully to Jazz, stepping close to the Third in command, and looked down on the top of Jazz's helm. Jazz barely came to Sunstreaker's shoulder. "Do you think a puny minibot could move like us and have a chance in the Pit to bring one of us down?"
Jazz glance down to the golden pede, then up the legs and over the torso and finally up into the handsome face that loomed above him before answering.
"Subtlety is an art form that not all can accomplish, but it can get the job done… much like those who employ strength."
"Would you like a first hand experience with true strength?" Sunstreaker growled, his chassis vibrating.
Jazz gave a shiver, his audios sensing the frequencies employed. His visor dimmed, soaking in the resonance of the sound.
Sunstreaker was ready to pound the small black and white menace, but when his potential rival lowered his guard and seemed to sway, he halted his retribution. Surprise flooded the bond from both sides as Jazz simply basked in the sound that was so close to his audios, it consumed him.
It was a minute before he spoke. "Primus, that voice of yours will be a mech's undoing."
Now Sunstreaker was really shocked. He took a step back from the crazy monochromatic slagger who was just an arm's length away, and apparently drunk on auditory influence.
"Primus, Jazz, a mech could talk you into overload if they found the right pitch," Sideswipe said, smirking at the mech's auditory weakness.
"Good possibility," Jazz said, disregarding the causal address. He gave a contented sigh. "Have yet to find someone who can accomplish such a thing but there is always a first time for everything."
Jazz reached out, clasping Sunstreaker's arm to steady himself but it was the wrong thing to do. He made the ultimate mistake. He touched Sunstreaker. With a flash like liquid sunshine, Sunstreaker had the monochromatic mech spun and pinned against the wall, his pedes barely touching the floor, arms wrenched painfully behind his back, keeping him immobile.
"Never… touch… me." Sunstreaker growled, his voice taking on a such pitch that Jazz shuddered. He pressed against the Third's body, sandwiching him between the bulkhead, sensing every tremor and hitch to his systems.
"Sunstreaker! What are you doing?" Prowl's voice rang out. He stormed up, unafraid of the golden mech was holding Jazz expertly against the wall. "Release Jazz this instant!"
Sunstreaker did as bade, his optics dark with intent as he allowed Jazz freedom and stood a step away from the slow to recover Third.
"What were you doing?" Prowl demanded, looking Jazz over for any signs of harm. He seemed okay, but his systems were registering… hot.
"Talking." Sunstreaker answered.
"I suggest you find another avenue to communication that doesn't involve pinning a mech against a bulkhead to speak into their audio," Prowl said, looking disgruntled.
"Don't you dare!" Jazz snapped at Sunstreaker before spinning to give Prowl and annoyed look. "Stay out of this!"
Prowl was shocked into silence.
Jazz gave Sunstreaker a look before growling, "This isn't over with."
"Count on it." Sunstreaker sneered before Jazz gave Prowl a stern look before departing.
Jazz was a few paces away before he added, "Oh, and Sunstreaker?" He waited until he had Sunstreaker's utmost attention. "Don't practice your audial overloading on anyone else. I would kind of like to hold that distinct title on my own."
Sunstreaker pulled up, stunned.
When the twins faced Prowl, the tactician looked mildly disturbed. Not sure what caused such a contemplative mood in the uptight mech, the twins tensed, wondering what form of demon they had unknowingly just entertained.
"You two better watch out," Prowl said nodding toward the speck of black and white retreating officer "If Jazz has set his sights on you…."
Prowl let the warning trail off, his meaning quite clear. He gave Sunstreaker a hard stare, hoping to drill his warning into the mech's thick helm, but Sunstreaker merely scowled. Sideswipe looked thoughtful before his ever present mischievous look returned to his facial plates.
"Oh, goodie!" Sideswipe crooned, heading in the opposite direction of both officers. "We found someone to play with!"
"We shall see." Sunstreaker muttered, his mood surly the rest of the day.
The next morning, Sunstreaker opened his optics to find a very strange scene.
Jazz was leaning over his helm, a brilliant smile on his face, his visor powering up to a brilliant shine when he noticed Sunstreaker's alertness.
"Morning, Sunshine." Jazz grinned.
"How did you…?" Sunstreaker started, trying to rise off the berth to throttle the mech that dared to violate his personal space, his quarters, and use such a foul nickname.
"You're motor controls are knocked out." Jazz explained, tilting his helm toward the muffled noise of Sideswipe trying to move on the adjacent berth.
"How did you get in here?" Sunstreaker asked, anger tingeing the low resonance of his voice.
Jazz visibly shuddered. He vented a soft sigh, his head shaking slowly from side to side. "Mech, I'm telling you, use that voice for something other than threats. We could make a killing."
"I'm going to kill you!" Sunstreaker promised, his optics narrowed. If he had full motor control, there was a good chance Jazz would be in pieces in the blink of an optic.
"What have you done?" Sideswipe demanded, still unable to move. He was face down on the berth.
"Just a small recalibration that makes your circuits go numb for a short time," Jazz said, his voice nonchalant as if they were discussing the weather. "Just wanted to give you two the heads up on what you're facing here at the base. You are way out of your league."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Sunstreaker asked. How dare the mech question his ability to cause chaos and run with the big machines.
"I've read your files,' Jazz said, his tone polite.
"Meaning?" Sunstreaker prompted.
"The recruits you joined up with were incarcerated within ten breems of signing up because you rallied them into a rioting mob," Jazz explained. "Then when you were thrown in the brig, you hotwired it and escaped, then proceeded to hotwire every cell into flashing out a light show that was set to music."
"That was rather ingenious," Sideswipe said to the berth.
"Yes, it was, but it also proves that you two are loose screws," Jazz said, leaning causally over Sunstreaker's inert form. "You have no regard for rules, regulations, boundaries, and think you can bully anyone who gets in your way, hence the four soldiers you sent to the medic upon signing on."
"We could have taken down more had my nitwit twin not thrown out his actuators the night before," Sunstreaker grumbled. The fact he took on mechs twice his size and was outnumbered didn't faze him. He was embarrassed that he didn't have time to take down more adversaries. He was bloodthirsty that way.
"Well, just so you know, Prowler doesn't like disruption."
"Prowler?" Sunstreaker asked, glad that he wasn't the only one with a terrible nickname. Perhaps he could enlist Prowl's help in eliminating the ones who keep insisting on using such horrible mutilations of names.
"Mehh.. he likes it," Jazz shrugged. "He just doesn't know it yet."
Sideswipe snickered at the berth.
"I just wanted to warn you, this is Prime's own unit," Jazz said, all jocularity gone as he stared down into Sunstreaker's upside down visage. "We're the best. The best espionage, tactical, and heavy hitters. This isn't a stripped down base with novice officers and rank amateurs for you to exploit and ignore direct orders."
"Figured that when Prime hand picked us," Sideswipe said, still face down on the berth.
"So instead of a welcoming committee, you're our what…a warning committee?" Sunstreaker asked, feeling his plates tingling as the numbness started to wear off.
"Just a friendly reminder." Jazz smiled, then glanced to Sideswipe with a frown. He looked back to Sunstreaker, his face hovering so very close to the glaring optics. "Why does he charge like that?"
"He's an idiot." Sunstreaker grunted. When Jazz looked dubious, Sunstreaker amended, "It's usually how he passes out either from too much high grade or an overload."
"Not mutually exclusive," Sideswipe said, his fingers twitching with his words.
Jazz noticed the movement and decided the immobilizing effects were wearing off. Not a good idea to be in the same room when the ones you rendered immobile regain their mobility. Parts could be flying, and not in the good way.
"That's my cue," Jazz said, he looked into Sunstreaker's upside down optics. His optical band twinkled with promise. "Just remember. We're all highly trained professionals who have been fighting this war since before you two were even sparked. Try not to get yourselves slagged by your teammates instead of the enemy."
Without a sound he was gone.
"That slagger!" Sunstreaker growled.
"I love him!" Sideswipe declared, his servo able to thud against the berth as his motor controls started to come back. "This was a great prank!"
"It wasn't a joke," Sunstreaker said, trying to regain his own mobility. "This was a warning. He's not a mech to mess with."
"Then he obviously doesn't know us," Sideswipe said, his grin hidden by the cushion of his berth.
"You wait until I see him," Sunstreaker growled, his voice traveling the distance and making Sideswipe shiver. Jazz had a point. Sunstreaker had a sinful voice.
"Oh don't terminate him. We finally met someone who can equal us in pranks!" Sideswipe declared with a pout.
"We'll see." Sunstreaker muttered darkly.
The next morning Jazz woke up to find that he had been immobilized. He sighed, his visor coming online and alerting the two mechs currently resting against him that he was awake.
"How did you break my code?" Jazz asked knowing who was pressed against him without sensing for spark signature.
"I'm pretty good with locks" Sideswipe said. His voice rumbling from deep within his chassis.
Jazz struggled as he turned his visor to see Sideswipe laying on his left. Sunstreaker was on his right.
"You're inhibiting skills need some work." Jazz's rebuking tone was cordial. "I can still feel my body."
"We didn't use a knock out sequence or sedative," Sunstreaker said, his artistic eye catching the subtle shift in color along Jazz's plating. It was rather nice.
"What did you use?" Jazz asked, unsure what could keep his so immobile and yet, fully cognizant of his faculties.
"I glued you're the berth," Sideswipe said nonchalantly.
"What?" Jazz spat. "Do you know how long it will take to get me unstuck for here?"
"Took the last mech what?…. Forty breems?" Sunstreaker asked.
"About." Sideswipe offered a one sided shrug. "But he was a stout slagger."
"Alright, lesson learned," Jazz said with a sigh. "Don't immobilize either of you."
"Don't sneak into our quarters," Sunstreaker said lowering his helm to speak directly into Jazz's audio. It had the desired effect. "Don't enter our quarters uninvited. Don't enter our berths. Do no touch us and above all else," Sunstreaker leaned in, his olfactory sensor brushing against Jazz's cheek as he pitched his voice low and rumbled, "Don't think you could ever get the better of us because it… will… never… happen."
"Oh… I do love a challenge," Jazz said, fighting back the urge to sigh at the resonance. He never met anyone who could pitch their voice in such a manner. How Sunstreaker managed, Jazz didn't know. But the tracks they could record and sell on the open market! Jazz recognized talent when he heard it. He had no doubt that Sunstreaker could croon his way into any situation or under anyone's plating.
Sideswipe smirked, observing his twin. He had an inkling what Sunstreaker was going to do from the erratic sensations filtering over the bond. Sunstreaker smirked in that predatory, sexy way. Picking an old battle hymn, Sunstreaker leaned forward, pressing against Jazz's audio and started his song, his voice melodious, cultured, the deep bass thrumming down into levels that had Jazz trembling despite the glue. Sunstreaker only made it halfway through the song before Jazz gave a strangled cry, his body jerking, little arcs of electricity danced over his plating and the smell of burnt ozone assaulted the twins senses. Sunstreaker smirked, giving his brother a look that Sideswipe normally wore when a prank was well executed.
"Primus, that was hilarious," Sideswipe said, extricating himself from the now unconscious Jazz.
"Maybe that will teach the fragger boundaries," Sunstreaker said, giving Jazz's peaceful face one last look before getting up from the berth.
"I have a feeling he's going to be your new best friend." Sideswipe laughed as they exited Jazz's quarters. Much to their surprise, Prowl was exiting his room across the hall. Before he could open his mouth to inquire as to why the twins were leaving Jazz's quarters so early, Sideswipe took it upon himself to cut off the SIC. "Don't worry. We'll get you next week. Be sure to fuel up. You'll need the energy."
Prowl's stupefied expression remained on his face long after the twins departed. Like a flash he stepped to Jazz's door and when there was no answer, he typed in his override code. When he found Jazz, he frowned, noting the inert body and the lingering affects of a good overload. He was about to leave, thinking Jazz had added another conquest to his tally, when he noticed the other black and white officer was cushioned on a thick, purplish gel.
Sighing in frustration, Prowl commed the maintenance crew to bring a solvent and remove Jazz from his berth as he set out in search of two troublemakers.
Jazz was eerily missing for two weeks after that, making both twins think that he had gotten the message and wisely left them alone. Then as they were training some new recruits, much to Ironhide's adamant verbal dismay, a transport landed and belched out a dozen mechs, Jazz in the lead. He looked haggard, dented, and his optical band was cracked, allowing only a third of it to power up. His left servo was crushed and a mesh-patch was grafted to his thigh were energon stained the paint. He looked like the Pit. When he noticed the familiar primary flash of his two favorite adversaries, he redirected his path, limping to the two front line warriors.
"Meet me in conference room delta in thirteen joors," Jazz said, his voice was harsh, edgy. It lacked the usual good natured lilt that made the mech so likable. Sunstreaker opened his mouth to protest the abbreviated lessons he and his brother were hosting, but Jazz's voice cut through his own and made Sunstreaker frown at Jazz's words. "Do not speak to anyone but myself and be there when I'm granted medical leave."
Without waiting for affirmation Jazz strode away, his left leg threatening to tear open and spray his fluids. The twins watched him disappear, their bond full of active conjecture. Since they hadn't seen Jazz since Sunstreaker had sang him into a happy overload, they didn't know if the officer forgave their little prank, or intended to reprimand them now that he was back from a mission.
Certainly the glue hadn't lasted that long?
The twins were instantly bored when they entered conference room delta. It was as sparse as any other conference room, with a long oblong table, assorted chairs, datapads at each chair, and a central holographic projection in the center of the table that was connected to the datapads. A small niche in the corner where energon could be dispensed and another alcove sported a collection of cleaning supplies. Just a typical, uninteresting room. Why Jazz wanted the twins to meet him there was anyone's guess, but as the twins thought about it, the conference room was on a little used floor. Perhaps he wanted a private chat with them about the little stunt they pulled and didn't want anyone to overhear? Or perhaps, after being away on a prolonged mission, Jazz just wanted to hear Sunstreaker sing again?
Stranger things have happened.
Just as the twins sat down and brushed against each other's sparks in a little game they developed, they heard a light tapping of pedefalls. The gait was uneven, suggesting the mech was either elderly, clumsy, or injured. When Jazz limped into the room and shut the door, the twins remained seated, watching the black and white officer as he glanced to the two and scrutinized their lax frames.
"Did you tell anyone you were coming here?" Jazz asked, his voice still hard and stern, like a seasoned soldier.
"No," Sideswipe said, feeling a surge of darkness from his brother.
Jazz looked between the two, his cracked visor now displaying half illumination.
"Are you trustworthy?" Jazz asked, glaring at each brother in turn. Though his visor was damaged, the weight of his stare was still oppressive.
"Of course we are!" Sideswipe snapped, looking indignant. Sunstreaker sat, scowling, his temper flaring with the insinuation.
Jazz regarded the two for a moment, the silence stretching. He expected both to fidget under his gaze. They all did. Much to his surprise the two remained motionless, not even the sound of their soft venting could be heard. With a curt nod he limped around the table.
"Follow me," Jazz ordered.
To Jazz's surprise, the twins obeyed, following the shorter mech to the cleaning alcove where he gestured for them to step inside. When the twins hesitated, Jazz pointed into the alcove that would barely hold the twins and snapped. "In!"
As soon as the twins entered the small inset, Jazz followed, and pressed his back against the two. His servo came out and touched a part of the paneled wall and with a beep, energy radiated out. Within the blink of an optic the trio were transported to a new location.
"What you witness here never leaves this domain, am I understood?" Jazz asked, stepping out of the small transported field and turning to stare at the two dumbfounded mechs. "One word leaks out and both of you are terminated, no questions asked. Do I make myself clear?"
"Perfectly," Sideswipe said, stepping off the teleportation pad. Sunstreaker followed behind offering a nod of affirmation.
Jazz turned and lead the way through the capacious room, taking one of the halls and navigating his way through the twisting turns and confusing corridors. When they felt like they had traveled a fair distance, Jazz turned to a door that was unmarked and flush against the hall. He placed his servo on the wall and with a swish, the door opened, allowing access. Jazz limped through, the twins following at a curious, yet sedate pace. The room was brightly lit, and much to the twins surprise, housed several Decepticons.
There were half a dozen cubicles, a Decepticon prisoner a guest in each, and at least two special Ops mechs walking around their captured foes. Machines, tubes, wires, and tools that looked painful were placed on trays. Some were stained with spilled energon, others were pristine and awaiting use.
"We have a few captors that are highly valuable." Jazz explained as he walked past the line cubicles. A dark green mech was standing with arms folded over his chassis regarding an unconscious yellow seeker and offered Jazz a single dip to the helm in acknowledgement before returning his attention to his captive. "Most are privy to secret warehouses, supply lines, and tactical information. Others may be useful in wiping their memories, planting explosives in their frames, and returning them to their bases."
"So why do you need us?" Sunstreaker asked, watching a blue mech open the helm of a restrained Decepticon and plug wires directly into his cortex. Such hacking was extremely painful, but the Decepticon only winced, his helm unable to move to throw off his mental attacker.
"Some require a more…. delicate…. approach," Jazz said, motioning to the silent form in the last cubicle. "This fragger put up one Pit of a fight."
The twins noticed Jazz sway a little before catching himself and nodding to the immobile prisoner.
"I've dealt with him before and let me tell you, he's not easy to crack," Jazz said, trying to hide his discomfort. "Slagger almost took out my entire unit before we caught him."
"And what you want us to do?" Sideswipe asked, taking in the blue mech's battered form. He was a symbiote carrier, a compartment on his chest torn free and the docking stations inside bare of symbiotes. "Beat him up?"
"Tried that," Jazz said. "And hacking, which doesn't work because he's a telepath and can block out your cortex."
"Why do you need him?" Sunstreaker asked, not seeing anything of value or use to the battered mech suspended in the energy field. "Why don't you just terminate him?"
"He has information I need," Jazz said, leaning against a tray of assorted tools that had already been tried on the captive. "This is Megatron's right hand mech. If we can get into his cortex, I can learn Megatron's plans and may be able to turn this mech here into an unwilling spy."
Sideswipe stepped closer to the captured Decepticon. The energy field was keeping him weakened and muted their conversation, not allowing the mech the ability to hear the conversation being held about him. His optics had been shattered, a gouge ran the length of his left cheek, displaying the circuitry beneath. The mech was blind and deaf, and weakened from the energy restraints, but he was still dangerous.
"We have to keep him in the depletion field to keep his abilities in check," Jazz said, wincing as his injuries smarted from constant movement. "We take him out, question him, then when his abilities return, we put him back in the depletion field."
"How long has he been here?" Sideswipe asked.
"Captured him just before I left on the last mission," Jazz said, fighting back the urge to voice his discomfort. "We had intel that Megatron was searching for his little pet, and I was sent in to see how far he'd gotten in figuring it out."
"He close?" Sideswipe asked, worried over the safety of the base.
"Not by a long shot," Jazz said. "I planted false information that we were holding him in Tyger Pax so he'll concentrate his efforts there."
"Won't that set up the civilians to get slaughtered?" Sideswipe asked, knowing the Autobot code prevented such reckless savagery. Course the rule book also frowned upon torturing captives but hey, this was war and when one's own extinction was on the line, it was no hold's barred.
"Civilians have been evacuated," Jazz said, gracing Sideswipe with a half smile. He knew the twins had it in them to be compassionate toward others. "The city is already fully charged with explosives. I planted the detonator on one of Megatron's soldiers so when they enter the city, it will blow."
"And this mech?" Sunstreaker said, his gaze had been transfixed on the immobile features.
"Contingency plan. If we don't get Megatron, then I'll need another avenue to him."
"And what is it exactly you want us to do?" Sideswipe asked.
"Actually, I just need you," Jazz said, looking to Sunstreaker and earning a small start from the golden mech. "Well, your voice anyway."
"My… voice?" Sunstreaker asked skeptically.
"I know what that vocoder of yours is capable of," Jazz said without a hint of embarrassment. "And I'll need you to use it on him. While you have him under your spell, I can hack his cortex."
"You serious?" Sunstreaker asked.
"I wouldn't have brought you down here without having faith in your ability," Jazz said. He gave a guilty look. "You already passed my tests, so I know what you are capable of."
Sideswipe started to snicker, which turned into hysterical laughter. The noise drew the attention from the other Special Ops agents that were engaged with their own captives or talking amongst themselves. They all gave Sideswipe a cross look, not finding any humor in their situation. Jazz was giving the ruby mech a look that meant he thought the warrior was disturbed, which Sunstreaker gave a nod of affirmation, letting him know his assumption was correct.
"What is so funny?" Jazz asked after Sideswipe calmed down.
"Sorry," Sideswipe said, gathering his wits and exhaling a heavy gust of air. "It's just… this entire war could end… thanks to a song." When Jazz's creased expression remained frozen, Sideswipe added, "You use a mechs weakness for music against him, hack into his processor, and make him the perfect unwilling spy-drone…..and all because of my brother's voice."
Jazz allowed a snicker to escape. He graced Sunstreaker with an appreciative look his brow ridge cocked. "What can I say? Sunstreaker is just that good."
Sunstreaker smirked, agreeing with the assessment. The fact that Jazz referred to him by his full designation and not that atrocities nickname gifted by Sideswipe, had Sunstreaker warming up to the mech and his ideas.
"So, when do you want to hack him?" Sideswipe asked, gesturing toward the blue mech.
"No time like the present," Jazz said, hobbling the few paces next to Sunstreaker.
"But, you're injured." Sideswipe protested.
"The sooner I can hack him, the sooner we can get the information we need and send him on his way," Jazz said, pulling a chair close and sitting heavily. He was in a lot more pain than what he was allowing to show. The twins could admire that. "I'll lower the field and the restraints will keep him anchored to the berth. You have fifteen joors before he starts to regain his abilities."
"Won't take that long," Sunstreaker said with a knowing look. His gaze swept Jazz's battered frame suggestively. "Judging by past experience."
If Jazz was a modest mech he would have blushed.
"Which is why when you are working on him, I've ordered all of my personnel to mute their audios," Jazz said, giving Sunstreaker a knowing look. "And mine will be off as well. When he overloads, I'll hack into his cortex. There will be less resistance if he's out of it."
"Don't trust us?" Sideswipe asked with a grin. He waggled his brow plates in a suggestive manner when Jazz looked at him.
"If I didn't, you wouldn't be here." Jazz deadpanned. His servos went to the controls of the energy field, hovering over the disconnect that would grant the mech his hearing. The damage to his optics was too extensive, so he would still endure being blind. "Remember, my audios will be off so I'll be watching him to gauge his reaction."
"Yeah, better turn them off," Sideswipe said, holding back a snicker at the absurdity of the situation. Just to be cheeky he added, "Turn them off or get off accidentally, and we know how much of a travesty that would be."
Jazz looked startled, then grinned, his audios switching off. He looked to Sunstreaker and got a nod of confirmation before typing in the sequence. The energy field shimmered into stillness, granting the mech his sense of hearing and touch. He jerked at the sudden rush of sensory input. The table in which he was anchored dropped down, presenting his immobile form to his captives. He tried to struggle but the energy had drained his strength. It would take some time to regain it, and he was always thwarted before he could show the filthy Autobots what he could do when pissed. Much to his surprise a deep voice started to sing, the pitch wavering and filling his senses.
Jazz was stationed by the mech's helm, his own helm level with the flat table. When the mech lost consciousness, he would be ready. He watched as Sunstreaker approached, and like a trained seductress, leaned toward the mech's audios, using his enchanting voice in that damnable way. Jazz wasn't surprised when the blue mech twitched, the spell weaving its magic and wrapping around his sensors and doing delicious things to his audios.
Jazz's attention drifted to Sunstreaker and though he couldn't hear the mech's voice, his memory files opened against his will and replayed the morning before his last mission. He stared, entranced as Sunstreaker moved, edging closer to the mech's audios, his servos ghosting across the shoulder and along the gaping chest compartment. The actions were slow and soothing, causing the blue frame to shudder against its will. Jazz understood. He sympathized and felt a pang of jealousy.
And like with Jazz, halfway through the song, Sunstreaker modulated his voice and with a gasping whimper the blue frame bucked off the berth. Electricity danced across his plating and filled the air with the scent of burnt ozone. A few tremors later he relaxed, falling off line, his chest heaving as his body struggled to dispel the pent up heat and subsequent release.
Sunstreaker smirked, looking to Jazz as the saboteur nodded and opened the access panels along the mech's helm. Like a well practiced medic he navigated the mechs overwrought mind and plunged into the post-coital haze of the blue mech's cortex.
He onlined his audios in time to hear distant voices congratulate Sunstreaker on his beautiful singing voice.
It took nothing for Jazz to hack into the mechs mind and implant the needed codes that would transmit vital information when Jazz sent the sub-frequencies. And of course after each transmission the mech would crash, rebooting to find a wide gap in his systems that signaled an inoperable glitch that no medic could eliminate. Memory wiped clean, the mech would go back to his business, unknowing of the information he unwillingly supplied to the enemy.
Jazz hummed while he worked, his optical band dim. He heard the distant ramblings of his unit talking with Sideswipe and the occasional one word offered by Sunstreaker that passed as a conversation for the golden mech. It took no time in instituting the program into the blue mech and with a heavy sigh, Jazz disconnected from the offline mech. With a wave of his hand his agents dispersed, knowing their leader wanted privacy in talking with the two new recruits.
Jazz rose, wobbling a little on his protesting leg and went to the twins, who were standing side by side overseeing the blue mechs mining.
"Thanks for your help," Jazz said to Sunstreaker.
Sunstreaker offered a nonchalant gesture, but his optics were shining with triumph. Sideswipe looked smug though technically, he hadn't done anything to warrant such a look. As both were basking in the adulation for a job well done, and accomplishing something the saboteur had been unable to do, neither suspected Jazz of ill intent until his servos darted out, catching both along the side of the neck and pressing against a recessed node that caused a reboot.
Ratchet had taught him that particular spot, but Jazz would never divulge his secrets.
Shock registered on the twin visages as Jazz hovered over their collapsing frames. He offered a smirk, his servos cradling the two helms with a tenderness not shown to any other. He allowed gravity to take the two in its embrace, mindful of their helms, and when their optics flickered off in a full system reset, he allowed both twins to be removed by members of his team. They hoisted the unconscious duo and carted them off to their quarters, where the twins woke up the end of the stellar cycle.
"Slagging eating Pit master!" Sunstreaker barked, punching the air with his fist as his onlined on his berth.
Sideswipe muttered something unintelligible from his own berth and rolled to his side, wanting to fall back into charge. The anger flooding the bond pulled him from a dreams embrace and when his processor caught up to what had happened, he too fumed at the audacity of the Special Ops mech.
"That slagger! I'll terminate him!" Sunstreaker growled, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the berth. "I'm going to find him and terminate him with my bare servos! How dare he use us then turn on us like that!"
Strangely, the anger fled Sideswipe in a violent rush, his spark calming though the torrent of emotions flooding the link made him flinch.
"Let it go, Sunstreaker," Sideswipe said, his voice deadly calm. It startled Sunstreaker from his verbal tirade.
"How can I let it go?" Sunstreaker spat. "Do you not feel betrayed?"
"I have a feeling that even Prime doesn't know everything that goes on with Jazz's unit," Sideswipe said slowly, remembering the mechs he had seen in the hidden chambers and how they blended together in his memory. It must have been a memory scrambler. Or Jazz hacked his cortex while he was out. System checks showed that he had remained untouched during his subsequent paralysis and berth rest.
"So?" Sunstreaker spat, his fingers were digging into the metal of the berth, denting its edges.
"Sunny, I don't think it's wise to press Jazz," Sideswipe said, ignoring his brothers growling venom at the nickname.
"You? Afraid of a mech?" Sunstreaker snorted.
"Not afraid, just…. respectably distant." Sideswipe amended. Sunstreaker rolled his optics at the semantics. "He could have done any number of things to us while we were out of it, Sunny. But he didn't. He didn't hack into our cortexes, and didn't cause any damage. I mean, look at your frame."
Sunstreaker glanced down. Sure enough, there wasn't a mark on him. He had fallen to the ground, he remembered the slow motion decent. There should have been scuffs on his person. But his body was buffed and polished, looking just as dashing as it always did.
"This was a warning," Sideswipe said, nodding toward the door. "Jazz does things Prime doesn't know about, and probably, to some extent, have free reign to do whatever he wants. He's giving us the opportunity to see what he's capable of, yet not come out and threaten us. He showed us their base of operations, even though he didn't have to. He took a chance in bringing down two front line mechs into the inner workings of his secret unit."
"I can't even remember their faces." Sunstreaker muttered, frowning at the vague recollection he held.
"Probably a distortion field that alters our processors." Sideswipe gave a one sided shrug. "But he took a chance in divulging the location and his mechs to us."
"Still think I need to terminate him." Sunstreaker muttered with a mulish growl.
"This is a warning." Sideswipe repeated, making sure to capture his brother's attention. "The blitz attack on us was sudden, and though he was injured, he could still defend himself. But instead of allowing us to fall and be possibly injured, he eased us to the floor as we succumbed."
Sunstreaker felt his vehemence deflate. "He could have really scratched my paint."
"But yet, you look as perfect as always," Sideswipe said with a nod. "He made sure you maintained your looks even though he overpowered you."
Sunstreaker glared. "I don't like that."
"Neither do I," Sideswipe admitted. "But I understand it. It's subtle, yet it speaks louder than open action."
Sunstreaker canted his helm, unsure how to interrupt his brother's meaning.
"Jazz is different than from anything we've ever encountered before," Sideswipe said, his gaze going distant as the memory of Jazz's face hovering above his own as he succumbed to the shut down sequence ran through his meta. "He shows the world his fun side, but when it comes down to business, he's just as ruthless as we are."
Sunstreaker felt a shiver, his hand going to his chassis and rubbing the area over his spark chamber. He knew the sensation was coming from his twin.
"This was Jazz's way of showing us we're easily removed," Sideswipe said his voice soft. "At any time he can assert himself and with the resources at his disposal, he could ensure we are never found. He's trusting us with his secrets, and if we divulge them, there won't be a safe return to our quarters with buffed paint jobs."
Sunstreaker gave a slow nod, his gaze fixed on the floor. It was a very sobering thought and a heavy burden. But somehow, it felt good to bear some of Jazz's secrets. It was like he allowed a piece of himself to be held by another, trusting them to keep him safe and not shatter his trust.
"Promise me you wont do anything stupid," Sideswipe said, looking across the room to his brother.
"It's usually me saying that to you." Sunstreaker snorted. He rose from his berth and headed toward the door. "And I wouldn't do anything to destroy the faith someone has placed in me to keep their secrets."
Sideswipe smiled, at his brother's retreating back. Knowing Sunstreaker, he needed a couple laps around the perimeter before he could return to charge. He couldn't charge without checking out the base first. It was a bad habit that got him reprimanded on several occasions. Sideswipe was deep in charge as soon as his helm hit the berth, unknowing the true intentions of his twin.
A gentle touch along his cheek, to his visor, and along his audio and Jazz gave a contented purr. Then he realized it wasn't a dream but actual physical contact bleeding through his consciousness. He started awake, finding Sunstreaker poised near his helm, his thin fingers tracing along the Special Ops facial features in soothing, gentle strokes.
"Sunstreaker?" Jazz gasped, looking into the golden mechs face. Primus, he looked like a specter of death, prepared to snuff out his spark and claim his shell. How could the mech do that? And how in the name of Primus had he bypassed all of Jazz's security measures! Even his own team didn't know how to crack his codes!
Sunstreaker barely acknowledged his designation, his artistic fingers tracing along the cracked visor that was to be replaced as soon as Ratchet could find a suitable replacement. The digits trailed along the edge of the visor and along Jazz's jaw, circling up to his helm and tracing around his audios. Jazz shivered despite the unusual circumstance. Without thought he grasped Sunstreaker's servo, halting his ministrations and a surprised noise escaped when he realized his body had responded to his instinctual command.
"You are not restrained in any way," Sunstreaker said, his voice rumbling and causing Jazz's breathing function to hitch.
"What are you doing in here?" Jazz asked, gathering his wits. His body was sore and he doubted he could have the strength to fend off Sunstreaker if he decided to attack. Sunstreaker's reputation was quite prominent and Jazz had no illusions to the mech possessing a 'soft' side. He was surprised by the genuine look of respect on Sunstreaker's face.
"Just…. wanted to let you know you were heard and understood," Sunstreaker said, leaning down to where his lip plates were lined up with Jazz's audios. "And that your faith is not misplaced with us."
"Primus," Jazz whispered, feeling the audial vibrations travel along his sensors. He had no idea how someone could find that particular pitch, but he was more than willing to bask in the resonance.
Much to Jazz's surprise, Sunstreaker pressed his lip plates against his audios, earning gasping keen as the sound traveled to ajoining sensors and shocked them into life.
"Do you wish me to leave?" Sunstreaker asked, knowing full well he could get Jazz to agree to anything at this point, the mech was so far gone into the sensations of sound.
"Primus, NO!" Jazz yelled, surprising himself with the strength and conviction in his voice.
His wide optics blinked up at the ceiling, Sunstreaker's own audial vents drifting along his peripheral vision on his right as the golden mech smiled against his sensors. He expected Sunstreaker to revert to the old battle hymn that he had original graced the saboteur with, but to his utmost shock, Sunstreaker started speaking in the ancient dialect that died out before Jazz was a spark in the cosmos.
Before Jazz could fathom how one apparently so young knew such words, he was rewarded with a shuddering wave, his plating tingling and erupting like a star about to go nova. The words were foreign but spoke with a distinct accent, the words flowing easily from Sunstreaker's lip plates. Jazz gasped, his chassis heaving, his fans kicking on, his internal temp hitting the dangerous levels, but still Sunstreaker spoke those gloriously rich, deep, vibrant tones that went straight down into Jazz's spark and wrapped his soul in ancient wisdom.
Jazz gasped, arching into a phantom lover, the words touching him more intimately than any other. His spark pounded, preparing to soar with release, his body rising to match the expected flight. Just as he neared the edge, Sunstreaker paused, his breath heavy against Jazz's audio, causing the Third to tremble, his body refusing to cycle down. Jazz was unable to speak, coherent thought a vague memory as his vocalizer sputtered with static, trying to voice its words of pleasure but unable to do so.
Sunstreaker paused, feeling the heat roiling off the mech willingly subjugating himself to Sunstreaker's voice. He had only teased the mech before, but now that Jazz was unhindered and unrestrained, he would be allowed to know the full expanse of Sunstreaker's verbal arsenal. He smiled, pleased with himself and a little envious of Jazz's uninhibited display.
"Wha….. wha…?" Jazz gasped, trying to form words but his taxed systems were screaming for the release they were denied. Unbidden his servo found Sunstreaker's and grasped the artistically tampered hand in his own and pressed it against his chassis, where his spark pounded within its casing, sharing the journey to completion.
Sunstreaker stared at their joined hands. It was a very intimate gesture. And for once, he didn't recoil at the proximity nor possibility of a scratch. He smiled, knowing what Jazz was meaning. Taking pity on the writhing mech, Sunstreaker pressed his lip plates back to Jazz's audio and spoke.
"Shall I translate, young one?" Sunstreaker purred. The pitch sent jolts through Jazz's frame and as he gasped and surged in answer to Sunstreaker's voice, the golden mech translated.
Jazz was too out of his processor to focus on the words being said, but the words lifted him up and sent him soaring. He keened, his body wracked with tremors as electricity danced along his plating. His servo grasped Sunstreaker's, interlacing their digits and allowing the talented mech the chance to sense the cascade of pleasure he initiated.
Sunstreaker gasped, his own plating firing in answer, exchanging little jolts of joined pleasure. He didn't stop speaking. His words flowed smoothly, rich and intoxicating, the translation drifting into Jazz's consciousness and absorbed by his very soul.
It was the Autobot code of honor: preservation of life, fighting for freedom and protecting the innocent. The ancient words translated and reverberated from Sunstreaker's vocals and joined the two in a mutual release.
A long continuous overload later, and Jazz signaled his spiraling into unconsciousness, his body taxed past endurance. He felt Sunstreaker's fingers tighten in his own, their joined servos pressing above his hammering spark chamber before darkness claimed him. Sunstreaker shuddered, feeling the residual waves wash over his frame, his digits interlocked with Jazz's on his chassis, hoping in his own subtle way, that the gesture expressed what he couldn't say.
It took several long minutes for Sunstreaker to collect himself. He stood, feeling his back strut ache from being bent and whispering the sweet nothings of an overload into Jazz's audios. He slipped his servo from Jazz, noting the calm, peaceful look that radiated off the Third in a shimmering wave. The heat was going to take some time to dispel. Wanting to allow the mech his private basking, Sunstreaker took his leave.
As he shut Jazz's door, the door opposite opened and a stunned Prowl stood framed in the entrance. Sunstreaker glanced to the Second and out of some unknown need to rile up the Praxian, he looked the black and white frame over with an appraising, predatory optic. He grinned at the uncomfortable shift in the Praxian frame. He kept his voice low, full of promise and sensual appeal as he looked Prowl in the optics.
"Give me some time," Sunstreaker said in a low purr that made Prowl's doorwings flicker. His words were liquid sin in Prowl's audios. "I'll get you yet."
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Yes, he just HAD to go there!
Reviews would be LOVED! I wanna hit another milestone! *gets giddy*
