"Well," Branchbinder's lip plates split into what looked like a genuine smile. "I'm glad that's settled then. Let's get the five of you initiated and assigned before the off-cycle is over."
They moved, as a group, down one of the alleys.
The other mecha seemed reasonably friendly now, but they still flanked Jazz and his friends cutting off any possible escape.
Jazz told himself to stop being paranoid.
Every once in a while, they would pass by other mechs, and the one at the head of their group would silently wave a greeting. Jazz noticed that each of them had the same faintly glowing word welded on their arm, shoulder, or chest. The glyphs were stylized, and difficult to decipher, but after watching for a while, he figured out that they read Quantum.
After several breems, there was light and noise ahead. Then they came out into the open. A building stood in front of them, glowing red and purple and blue against the surrounding blackness. The light was dim, but almost blinding against the dark structures around it.
They all stopped in front of the doors. Jazz could hear some faint, pounding music coming from somewhere inside.
Branchbinder, who had eventually taken the lead, turned around to face the rest of them. "Welcome to headquarters," he said, and opened the door with a flourish.
-One Vorn Ago-
"So," Blackangle said. "You got kicked out of your old school, right?"
Jazz shrugged. He knew there were rumors, but he didn't really feel like sharing. He liked having friends, but he still didn't really trust these mechs. It was fun to hang out with them after school—to play hoverball or lobbing, or wander around the city. But they all seemed to have secrets and things they didn't want to talk about.
"Yeah," Sideswipe said. "Didn't you, like, kill someone?"
Jazz shook his helm, smiling slightly. "Mech, if I'd killed someone, don't ya think I'd be in a detention center?"
"So what did you do?" Blackangle said.
"Lots of stuff," Jazz said. "I mean, I messed with the cameras, and got inta the computer system ta boost my friends' grades once in a while. Course, they never caught me doing any of that. I got expelled cuz my friends and I had this rivalry with some other mechlings, and it got outta hand."
"Out of hand as in someone died?" Sideswipe prompted.
Jazz shook his helm. "Mech, no one killed anyone."
Stonethrow leaned forward, optics shining. "Can you teach me how to get into the computer system and change my grades?" he said. "That would be so cool."
Jazz shook his helm again.
"Hey," Sideswipe said. "Actually, that would be awesome. You think you could make the system think I've done all my homework?"
"Yeah," Jazz said. "If I wanted."
Sideswipe must have sensed Jazz's hesitance. "You're just making that up. Bet you can't do it."
"How much ya wanna bet?" Jazz asked.
"So no one died," Blackangle said. "But I'm curious now. What happened?"
Jazz sighed. "This other fledgling got one of my friends expelled. So I kidnapped his symbiot, and then one of my friends beat him up." He still remembered that moment he'd realized Motormaster wasn't going to stop—that moment when his friend had pulled the knife out of subspace—that moment when someone almost had died. "We kinda deserved what we got, I mean..."
"Yeah," Blackangle said. "That'd get you kicked out for sure,"
"Yeah," Jazz said, a little grateful that no one seemed shocked by that.
These mecha weren't bullies like Verdict, but the twins got in fights somewhat frequently, and pretty much everyone knew to stay out of Sunstreaker's way, because just looking at him wrong could send him into a sort of berserker rage that only Sideswipe could talk him down from.
Blackangle was dangerous too, in a more subtle way. Jazz hadn't quite figured him out yet. He lived in a great big mansion in a nicer part of town, but when Jazz had asked about his creators, the other fledgling had just glared at him and refused to talk to him for the rest of the orn.
Stonethrow was wild and disruptive, and overly-excited about everything. He was also clumsy, and was always covered in dents and scratches. You never knew what he was going to do next.
"So…" Sideswipe said. "I don't really have any credit. But I've got a whole bunch of games and junk. If you fix my grades, I'll let you look through it and take something."
"Mech," Jazz said. "I'm not gonna…"
"Unless you can't," Sideswipe said.
"Leave him alone," Blackangle said. "He doesn't want your scrap."
Stonethrow laughed.
"He can have all of it," Sunstreaker muttered. "It's a fragging mess."
Silence fell.
"So," Blackangle said. "You're good at hacking and stuff then?"
"I guess," Jazz said. "I mean, I haven't come across anything I couldn't get into yet."
"Cool," Blackangle said. "Is it just computer systems, or can you hack locks too?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"It's just…"
"Here we go," Sideswipe said, rolling his optics. "Look, if he can't even change my grades, he's not going to be able to get into that scrapyard."
"Why would ya want ta get inta a scrapyard?" Jazz said. "That's creepy."
"It's not a normal scrapyard. They don't just keep offline mecha there," Blackangle said. "They store stuff, like chemicals, and different kinds of metal. You can find all sorts of scrap—and some of it sells pretty well on the black market."
Jazz looked down. He could feel Blackangle watching him—he felt like this was some sort of test. He met the other mech's optics. "Look, I don't know if…"
"It's not stealing if nomech wants it," Blackangle said.
"How would ya even sell anything on the black market?" Jazz said.
"I know mecha," Blackangle said, and glanced to the side with a small smirk.
Jazz frowned.
"Hey, Jazz?"
"Yeah?"
"Forget about it. It's ok."
"I ain't gonna help ya steal anything."
Blackangle shook his helm. "I told you it's fine." He didn't sound happy. "And I told you, it's not stealing if it's already been thrown away. Look, if you can't do it, then you can't do it. It's fine." He downed his energon and got up. "See you mechs later."
Jazz somehow missed meeting up with the group after school. He wasn't really surprised that they'd left without him.
He walked home instead, feeling vaguely gloomy. He supposed he couldn't really judge Blackangle for what he wanted to do—not when Jazz had participated in his fair share of misbehavior. It wasn't like the mech was going to hurt anyone.
And it would be an interesting challenge. He pulled his beat-up datapad out of subspace and accessed the public databases as he walked, trying to find the scrapyard Blackangle had been talking about. There were a couple that seemed likely—places with high fences and lots of security.
When he got home, he let himself in and headed for his room. Vibes wouldn't be back for several joors, so…
"Jazz, sparklin'?"
Jazz froze with his finger hovering over the button that would open the door to his room.
"Yeah?"
"Come here."
"I have… homework," Jazz opened his door and slipped into his room. He collapsed onto his berth and stared up at the ceiling, then pulled his datapad out. He could play some mindless game for a few joors.
He didn't look up as Vibes came in, arms crossed. "Hey, sparklin'," she said with a sort of soft concern that didn't quite cover up the disappointment.
He glanced up, then back down.
"Jazz."
"Yeah?"
He waited for her to snap at him. He wasn't disappointed.
"I ain't putting up with your scrap, put the datapad down and talk ta me."
He tossed the datapad off to the side and sat up. "About what?"
"About school," Vibes said. "Do ya know what your grade is in history?"
"Look" Jazz said. "It's not like it matters. School is stupid anyway…"
"I don't care 'bout school being stupid," Vibes said. "I care 'bout ya doing your best work, and I know ya can do better."
Jazz shrugged.
"And I expect ya ta do better."
"Ok," Jazz said, looking at the wall, hoping she'd drop the subject.
"Look at me."
He glared at her. "I already know all of this scrap, it's a waste of time."
"Jazz." She was about to lose her patience. He could hear it in her voice.
"Just go away."
"Sparklin' I am tired of this argument!"
Jazz was too.
"I know ya're still upset about what happened in Kalis…"
"Don't talk about..."
"…but it don't mean ya can just give up!"
Jazz looked away again, glaring at the wall.
"Ya're better than this."
"Can ya just get out of my room?"
"Don't ya speak ta me like that," she snapped.
"Sorry."
Vibes took in a deep vent and sighed it out. "I'm not mad cuz… Look, I don't even care about the homework so much, I'm just worried. Ya gotta get outta this… whatever it is. At least make some friends or something."
"I have friends," Jazz said.
Sort of. Maybe not anymore.
"Really?" Vibes said. "Ya haven't mentioned them before."
"Ya don't think I'm telling the truth?"
"Would ya lose the attitude, sparklin'? I didn't say that. Last time I asked, ya said ya didn't have any friends."
Jazz looked down.
She came in and sat at his desk. "That's great. Tell me about them."
Jazz shook his helm, and reached for his datapad. "Why ain't ya at work?"
"Cuz I got the rest of the orn off," Vibes said. "Come on, tell me about your friends."
"They ain't that exciting," Jazz said.
"Well, as long as they're better than those mechs you were following around at that school in Kalis."
"Ya say ya want me ta put that behind myself, but then ya keep bringing it up," Jazz said. "Just leave me alone."
She sat in silence for half a breem, then got up. "Ya know what, fine. I'm tryin', Jazz. And when ya're ready ta start trying too, let me know."
She left the room, and Jazz lay back down.
Try? Try to what? To get good grades? To make good friends?
None of the other students would want to be friends with him, especially since he'd started hanging out with Blackangle and the others. And he didn't want to hang out with them. They were boring. Boring, stupid, uneducated…
Jazz could get good grades if he wanted. He could get perfect grades, but why the pit should he care? It wasn't like it was going to get him anywhere. He'd had one chance and he'd fragged it up and now he was out of chances, out of options.
And he couldn't even keep the friends he made. Maybe he should stop acting like he was better than them. He wasn't—if anything he was already worse.
Blackangle sat down in between Sideswipe and Jazz with a sigh.
"Hey," Jazz said.
Blackangle nodded.
"Ya know… I was thinking about that scrapyard…"
"Yeah?" Blackangle perked up a little.
"Well… I don't know if I'd be able ta get in, but there's no harm in trying, right? Like ya said, it's not really a big deal. I'm sorry I was so…"
"Nah," Blackangle said. "Don't worry about it. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to."
"So we're going?" Stonethrow said. "Really? We're really going? Can we do it this off-cycle?"
"No," Blackangle said. "I'm grounded. My creators caught me out past their stupid curfew last off-cycle." He set his cube of energon on the table and leaned back, crossing his arms. "They're sending one of my siblings to come pick me up after school and make sure I go straight home."
"That rusts," Sideswipe said. "I wanted a rematch on that lobbing game from last decaorn."
"It rusts for me more than it does for you," Blackangle said. "I'm the one who has to spend all decaorn locked up in my fragging room."
"We're gonna get in that scrapyard," Stonethrow grinned. "And we're gonna be rich!"
"Shut up," Blackangle hissed, glancing around. "I swear, Stones, you're going to get us all in trouble if you go around talking about it. Jazz."
"Yeah?" Jazz said.
"You sure you're up for that?"
"Like I said, I can only try. But I haven't come up against anything I couldn't hack, so…"
"Awesome," Blackangle said.
"So… you can bump up my grades?" Sideswipe said.
"Your creators will know you cheated," Blackangle said. "Don't you think?"
"Have you met my creators?" Sideswipe said. "They're fragging clueless. If I suddenly had perfect grades, they'd just be like 'wow, the school is finally recognizing how smart you are' or slag like that."
"At the very least, the teachers will know you cheated," Blackangle shook his helm.
"They ain't that smart," Jazz said. "Unless they pay specific attention ta every single student, they're not gonna notice a little adjustment here and there. I can't give ya perfect grades, but I can make them better. I don't see why it matters that much, though. In my school in Kalis, ya had ta keep your grades up or they kicked ya out, so there was a reason for it. Your creators gonna kick ya out of the house if ya get bad grades?"
The twins glanced at each other, as if they were actually considering that question.
"No," Sideswipe said at length. "I guess you're right."
"I can do it, though, if ya want," Jazz said.
"Nah, that's all right," Sideswipe said. "I don't need good grades. School is useless anyway. And besides, Sunny's going to be a rich and famous artist when we grow up, so I'll be rich by association."
"Oh, really?" Sunstreaker said, and went back to the sketch he was doing on his datapad.
"Yeah," Sideswipe said, then sighed. "But back to the issue at hand—I guess if you're grounded, we can't go to your house this orn, Blackie."
"Nope," Blackangle said.
"I know!" Stonethrow said. "Mechs, remember that time we snuck into that factory and…"
"Nope," Sunstreaker said, still not looking up from his drawing. "Here's an idea. How about we don't do anything crazy and stupid?"
"That was pretty fun," Sideswipe admitted. "Until I broke my arm. But surely that wouldn't happen twice."
"We could just hang out and play video games for once," Sunstreaker said. "And not get in trouble."
"Whoa, since when did you care about getting in trouble?"
"It's inconvenient," Sunstreaker said.
Sideswipe heaved another sigh. "Fine, fine. You and your big words. We'll be boring and go play some super violent video game. Hey, you think we can sneak into Top Speed's stuff and borrow Energon Race?"
Sunstreaker hesitated, looking uncomfortable.
"Or not," Sideswipe said.
The yellow twin shook his helm. "He's not going to be home from work for a few joors. It should be fine. Let's do that."
Stonethrow ended up getting sent home early for something or other. He must have made one of the teachers really, really mad, because for the most part, they'd given up on trying to shut him up. So Jazz and the twins met up after school, and headed across the city.
Jazz hadn't actually been to the twins' house before. Normally we went to Blackangle's because it was big and his creators had a huge holoscreen and a ton of cool sports equipment.
The twins lived in an apartment that was only a little bigger than the one Jazz and Vibes lived in. It was better-kept, though, and in a nice, peaceful residential part of the sector.
Their femme creator was sitting in the front room. She looked up when the twins and Jazz came in.
"Hello Sideswipe, sweetspark. How was your orn?" she asked.
"Fine," Sideswipe said.
"What are you doing here so early?"
"Blackangle's grounded, so we thought we'd come here this time," Sideswipe said. "This is Jazz, by the way. Have you met him before?"
She shook her helm and smiled at him. "I don't think I have. Are you two in some of the same classes?"
"A few," Sideswipe said.
She smiled again. "Well, it's very nice to meet you. Sides, let me know if you need anything. Are you hungry?"
"Nope," Sideswipe said. "You know they give us energon at school."
"Ok, well you have fun with your friend."
Jazz followed the twins from the room, feeling distinctly uncomfortable but not quite sure why. They led him down a hall, and into a large room with two berths in it and an enormous gaming system that was older than the one Blackangle had, and not nearly as nice, but still impressive.
"I'll be back," Sideswipe said and ducked out the door while Jazz looked around. One side of the room was neat and organized and sparse, while the other half was piled high with datapads and remote control vehicles and board games and all sorts of things. It wasn't hard to guess whose side was whose, but Jazz couldn't help wondering why Sideswipe had so much more junk than Sunstreaker did. When Sides came back, he had a couple of game sticks with him. He plugged one into the machine and turned it on.
They spent several joors digitally blowing up digital organics, and fighting to the digital death in digital gladiator games. It was processor-numbing, but at least it made the time pass.
Then the twins' mech creator got home. Jazz heard the front door open, but didn't think much of it until the mech stuck his helm into the room.
"What in pit are you doing!" he demanded.
The twins and Jazz looked up.
"Oh slag," Sideswipe said quietly.
"How many times have I told you not to get into my games!" he said. He stormed in and yanked the game stick out of the computer. The screen went blank.
"Hey!" Sideswipe said.
"Hey what?" their mech creator shot him a glare. Sideswipe glared back, and Sunstreaker looked down with a stormy expression on his faceplate.
"Hey, you lost our progress." Sideswipe growled.
"Too fragging bad," their mech creator said. "Next time you steal one of these, I'm throwing your entertainment system out."
"But…"
"Shut up!" He kicked over a small tin of styluses that was sitting on the floor next to the wall. Sunstreaker flinched, but didn't say anything, and their mech creator turned his attention to the yellow twin. "What about you? You're being awfully quiet. I suppose this was your idea."
Sunstreaker finally looked up with boiling defiance in his optics.
"It was my idea," Sideswipe said.
"I told you to shut up," their mech creator said, pointing at Sideswipe, but not looking away from the yellow fledgling. "Maybe we should confiscate your paints for a decaorn and see if that helps you shape up."
"Don't touch my things," Sunstreaker said quietly.
"Don't touch mine!" their mech creator said, holding up the game stick.
"I. Didn't. Touch. It."
"You little liar. I caught you playing it."
"But I didn't touch it."
"Are you trying to push blame off on your brother?"
"I'm telling the fragging truth," Sunstreaker growled. "And you know it, you glitch."
Their mech creator raised his hand and Sunstreaker flinched, turning his helm to the side. But the blow didn't fall. The twins' mech creator just grabbed Sunstreaker by the shoulder guard and dragged him to his pedes and out of the room. Sideswipe got up and followed, and Jazz did so as well, feeling like an intruder and wishing he was somewhere else.
Sunstreaker was towed through the front room. Their mech creator opened the door and threw him out so hard he hit the ground and rolled before getting to his knees with a grimace on his faceplate.
"If I see you around here in the next three orns, you can recharge in the backyard for the rest of your life. Go!"
Sunstreaker got to his pedes and walked away, helm held high.
"And you," their mech creator rounded on Sideswipe. "Are to stay in the house for the rest of the orn."
"Fine," Sideswipe said with a chilling cold in his voice. He stormed back to his room, and Jazz followed again, still feeling entirely out of place.
Sideswipe shut the door behind Jazz and locked it, then dug out a bunch of things under his berth and started moving everything from Sunstreaker's side of the room into the little cave he'd created.
Jazz wanted to ask what he was doing, but Sideswipe answered before he got up the courage. "They can't confiscate it if they can't find it. I'll put it back before Sunny comes home again."
Something about the tone of his voice let Jazz realize just how embarrassed he was about this whole thing. Imagine that. Sideswipe, embarrassed.
"Uh…" he said. "Sorry Jazz. I guess Top Speed's in a bad mood."
"'s ok," Jazz said.
"Sunny doesn't really get along with our creators," Sideswipe said quietly, sitting down on his berth. "It's not his fault, of course. We… I guess you've probably heard the story somewhere. We were all over the news for a while."
"Not really," Jazz said. "Ya know I moved here halfway through last term, right?"
"It was all over the headlines." Sideswipe made a broad, sweeping gesture with one arm. "Split-spark twins, tragically separated as sparklings by some horrible misunderstanding, finally reunited."
Jazz hadn't known they'd been separated as sparklings.
"It's slag," Sideswipe said. "My creators decided they only wanted one sparkling, so they kept me and put Sunny in an orphanage, just after we were sparked."
Jazz blinked. "…Pit…"
"Yeah," Sideswipe said. "I was the lucky one. It was two and a half vorns before we managed to find each other, and then our creators were forced to take him back in. It… hasn't been ideal, but it's better than before, you know."
Jazz nodded. "Pit…"
Uncomfortable silence stretched out for several astroseconds.
"So… what about you?" Sideswipe asked. "I've heard you mention your femme creator. You get along with her?"
"She's nice," Jazz said. "Nicer than I deserve, I guess."
"That's good," Sideswipe said.
More silence.
Jazz sighed and sat down on Sunstreaker's berth. "My mech creator though… he ain't around anymore,"
"Offline?"
"I don't know, probably not," Jazz said. Talking about it wasn't fun, but he figured after what he'd just witnessed, he owed it to Sideswipe to answer the question. "He left a little more than a vorn ago. I was a youngling, and Vibes don't like ta talk about it so I don't know everything, but I think there was another femme or something… I'm pretty sure Vibes was the one ta finally break the bond… but yeah. He left."
Sideswipe finished shoving Sunstreaker's things under his berth, then pushed up a wall of this own things to hide it. "That's rough," He said as he sat on his own berth. "Frag… that's just wrong."
"At least I've got Vibes, though."
Sideswipe nodded.
"Hey… is Sunny gonna be…"
"He'll be ok," Sideswipe said. "This happens once in a while. Once Top Speed and Seafoam are recharging, I'll sneak out and find him."
Jazz sighed. "It sounds like Blackangle's creators aren't that great either."
"Ha, yeah," Sideswipe said. "They're not. I mean… they aren't that bad, really, just way too demanding. Blackie can't stand them though, and he doesn't like to talk about them—I've been friends with him for almost a vorn, and I don't even know the whole story of how he ended up hating them."
"Hmm," Jazz said.
"You want to know what they do for work?" Sideswipe grinned. "This'll blow your circuits."
"Yeah?" Jazz said.
"His mech creator's chief of enforcement for the entire sector."
Jazz stared.
"Yep."
"His creators are enforcers?"
"Bet you were expecting like gang bosses or something," Sideswipe said. "Nah. But you can see now why they don't see optic to optic."
Jazz shook his helm.
"He's got a bunch of siblings too, and all of them are enforcers. His creators just keep churning out perfect little clones of themselves. Except for Blackie. I don't think they know where they went wrong."
Jazz shook his helm.
"Stonethrow on the other hand…" Sideswipe said. "His creators are glitches. Ever wonder why his paint's always scratched? Why he's always covered in dents? He's not that clumsy."
Jazz looked down at the floor and the distinct line between the two sides of this room.
"I kind of wondered what Blackie was doing at first, inviting you to hang out with us" Sideswipe said. "But you do kind of fit in after all."
"Life rusts," Jazz said.
"Yep."
"What'd we all do to deserve this?"
"Deserving doesn't make a difference," Sideswipe said.
How true that was.
Jazz lay on his berth, reading. He had done as much research on the security at the scrapyard as he could. He was pretty sure he'd be able to get past the lock and get the gate open. They normally had a guard on duty, but if they were careful, there wouldn't be a problem.
It was late in the off-cycle. Vibes was probably recharging by now. There was still time before he was going to meet up with the others, but he wanted to go now. He was a little nervous, but more than that he was excited.
This was going to be the first real challenge he'd had since kidnapping that cat. He didn't care about the scrapyard, or whatever Blackangle wanted from there. He just wanted to see if he could get in.
Careful to be quiet, he got up off his berth and crept through the apartment.
And then he was outside, under the stars and the moons. You couldn't see the stars really well, because the light that filtered up through the cracks in the streets caused too much glare, but it was still pretty. He liked the off-cycle better than the on-cycle. There was just something comforting about the darkness. And where there was light, there were also mecha talking and laughing. There was something more real about the off-cycle. Something that allowed you to be yourself.
Some mecha were scared to walk around at this time of the orn—especially in places like the inner sectors of Polyhex. Jazz wasn't worried, though. He was small, but he could fight. And was pretty sure he didn't look like he had anything to steal.
He was the first one to the scrapyard, so he wandered around, studying the fence, and the little building by the main gate.
They wouldn't have to go in that way. There was a smaller gate on the other side that wasn't guarded.
Stonethrow showed up next, looking excited and nervous, and then Blackangle. Finally, the twins emerged from the gloom.
"Ok," Blackangle said. "Jazz?"
"Follow me." Jazz led the way around the yard, to the smaller gate.
"Yessss," Stonethrow hissed, bouncing up and down slightly.
"We could get in so much trouble for this," Sideswipe said, with a gleam in his optics. "Slag, I don't even care about whatever you want to get from this place, this is just exciting."
Jazz agreed.
"Then I guess you don't mind if I keep all the credit for myself," Blackangle said.
"I didn't say that," Sideswipe said.
"Do ya even know what ya're looking for?" Jazz said, studying the lock.
"Yep," Blackangle said. "I'll show you, once we get in there."
Jazz shook his helm. He was here to see if he could pick the lock. He didn't need credit.
"What?" Blackangle said.
"Don't talk, I gotta concentrate."
It was a pretty complicated lock. After a few breems of trying to trick it into thinking he had permission to open the gate, he backed up a step and shuttered his optics, thinking.
"Come on," Stonethrow said. "Are you serious? You can't get it open?"
"Hey," Blackangle said. "It's not some secondary school computer system. This is a serious lock. It's not his fault if he can't—"
"Would ya all just fragging calm down?" Jazz said. "I'm thinking about it. It could take ten more breems."
Sideswipe sighed and sat down.
"We could try climbing the fence," Stonethrow said.
"It's energized," Blackangle said.
"Energized?" Sunstreaker crossed his arms. "Blackie, what do they keep in this scrapyard?"
"Toxic chemicals," Jazz said. "Used industrial equipment, scrap like that. Don't step in anything funny-colored once we get in there, or ya could end up offline."
"Really?" Sideswipe said.
Jazz went back to working on the lock. "Yep. They keep offline mecha here too. Ones who didn't have anymech ta care what scrapyard they end up in."
"We are not cutting up dead mecha for their parts," Sunstreaker said. "Blackie?"
"Of course we aren't," Blackangle said. "Why the pit would we do that?"
"Because I'm pretty sure you can sell things like optics and voice boxes on the black market," Sunstreaker said. "But that's not fragging worth it."
"Don't worry," Blackangle said. "That's disgusting, we're not doing that. We're mostly here for some chemicals."
The lock clicked and the gate slid to the side.
"Hey," Blackangle grinned. "Awesome. Jazz, you're a genius."
They slipped into the scrapyard. Piles of twisted, discarded metal rose high into the dark sky of the off-cycle, lit by moonlight from above, and by cracks in the ground beneath.
Stonethrow sprinted forward with a gleeful shout, and Blackangle chased after him, probably to try and shut him up. Sideswipe jogged ahead a little as well, but Sunstreaker fell back, looking around with an intense, interested expression.
Blackangle caught up to Stonethrow, and then they stopped and waited for the others.
"Ok," Blackangle said, pulling out a datapad. "Here's what we're looking for. We probably won't find anything in these piles of junk—this is just metal. We'll be looking for places where they're keeping old cans of stuff. Here's a list of the chemicals we're looking for."
He passed it to Jazz, who read it thoughtfully. "What do they do with them?" he asked.
"Slagged if I know," Blackangle said. "They're probably useful for making weapons, or maybe they're ingredients in some kinds of illegal energon additives."
Jazz passed the datapad to Stonethrow.
"That bothers you, doesn't it?"
"Nah," Jazz said. "I just think there's better ways ta make credit, Blackie."
Blackangle shrugged. "Probably."
Stonethrow passed on the datapad. The twins looked at it together, and then handed it back to Blackangle.
"Should we split up?" Sideswipe asked.
"Yes," Blackangle said. "Meet back here in half a joor, all right?"
"Got it," Sideswipe said.
They all went different ways, except for the twins, who stuck together. Jazz wandered through the darkness. He didn't like how quiet this place was, and how empty. He wasn't scared exactly, but he also wasn't entirely comfortable. He wandered through the mounds of junk, and piles of factory equipment. He didn't really care if he found any of the things that Blackangle was looking for. Now that he'd gotten in and the challenge was over, he wasn't so sure about this. He could just imagine what Vibes would say if she knew where he was.
He kept going, though, past tangled piles of wires and rusted-out bits and pieces.
Then he came out into a more open part of the scrapyard where as far as he could see, a field of lifeless frames reflected the moonlight. A shiver ran through him, and he stopped, staring out over the dead.
He'd been in a nicer scrapyard once or twice, and it had always been kind of peaceful. This wasn't like that, though. The mecha weren't all lying in neat rows with pathways in between, and there were no roofs over them to keep the acid rain off. These mecha looked like they'd been dumped here in haphazard clusters.
Jazz took a deep vent and let it out slowly. The sickening smell of rust filled his olfactory sensors and he looked down.
Something moved behind him. He froze, then forced himself to relax, listening.
There was another sound, like someone walking quietly toward him from behind. He worried for a moment that it might be some corpse that had come back online, but there were much better explanations than that, so he waited, pretending he couldn't hear.
Something touched his shoulder, and he casually grabbed the mech's hand and flipped him over onto his back.
"Aaah! Hey!" Sideswipe said.
Jazz crossed his arms.
"You're no fun," Sideswipe sat up. "But, admittedly, that was cool."
Jazz held out a hand to help the other mech up. "Ya shouldn't try ta sneak up on mecha when it's really quiet."
"True," Sideswipe said. Jazz glanced over his shoulder to see Sunstreaker looking out over the graveyard.
"Hey, you find anything yet?"
"No."
"We haven't either. Except for some pretty cool pieces of pipe that are the right length to be swords."
"Nice," Jazz said, and they walked back toward where Sunstreaker was.
"We should get out of here," the yellow mech said. "This is stupid."
"Yeah," Jazz said. "Come on, let's head back."
They started walking back the way they'd come, toward the side of the scrapyard where the gate was open. Sunstreaker glanced over his shoulder at the field of the dead, and shook his helm.
They went around the corner and ran into Stonethrow, who'd been coming the other way.
"Hey," Sideswipe said.
"Mechs," Stonethrow whispered, leaning forward, optics wide. "You have to come see this."
Jazz glanced at the twins, who looked at each other. Sunstreaker shrugged.
"Ok," Sideswipe said.
They followed Stonethrow off in a different direction, through piles of scrap. Jazz looked for whatever it was Stonethrow wanted to show him, but he couldn't see anything other than the usual piles of scrap.
And then they went around another corner.
"Whoa," Sideswipe said. "What is that?"
Jazz stared up at the huge tangle of metal and wires. It crouched about the size of one of the piles of junk, like a giant symbiot with far too many legs.
"I don't know," Stonethrow said. "But it's fragging awesome."
"Yeah," Sideswipe jogged over to the base of it. It really did look like some sort of big, insectoid thing, but it had more than a hundred long many-jointed limbs. "You think it's alive?"
"Definitely not," Sunstreaker said.
"Cool. Race you to the top!" Sideswipe jumped up and started climbing it. Stonethrow followed suit. Jazz glanced at Sunstreaker, who shook his helm and started climbing as well, more carefully than his brother. Jazz wondered if this thing ever had been alive. Maybe there'd be some clue at the top to what it was, and at the very least, it was tall enough that it would offer a pretty good view of the scrapyard. He walked around to find an easier path up and started climbing as well, finding footholds on the legs, pushing himself faster.
Stonethrow slipped and let out a loud, shriek, but caught himself on a lower part of the leg he was climbing up.
Jazz and Sideswipe got to the little platform at the top at the same time, and fought over it for a few astroseconds, laughing as they nearly pushed each other off.
"Hey!"
They stopped and looked down to see Blackangle standing a ways away, glaring up at them.
Jazz waved.
"The frag are you mechs doing?"
"Check this thing out!" Stonethrow said as he scrambled the rest of the way to the top. "It's so epic!"
"Yeah?" Blackangle shouted back. "You're making enough noise to wake the offline!"
"Hey, look at this," Sideswipe said quietly. Jazz glanced back to see that the red twin had found what looked like a little hatch.
Jazz moved to the side as he tried to get it open.
"What are you looking at?" Stonethrow said.
The hatch popped open and the three of them looked in to see a small, rotating seat and an array of controls.
"It's a machine," Sideswipe said. "Hey, I bet it's like a scrap sorter or something."
Stonethrow slipped through the hatch and sat in the chair. "You think we can get it going?" he asked, pressing buttons and pulling on levers.
Sideswipe shut the hatch and sat on it.
"Hey!" Stonethrow's muffled voice shouted. "Hey! It's dark in here! Let me out!" Something banged on the hatch. "Heeeeelllp!"
"Ok, ok!" Sideswipe moved and pulled the hatch open again. Stonethrow popped out, gasping, and struggling to climb back up. "What are you, a seeker or something?"
"It was dark in there," Stonethrow said.
"Then turn up the brightness on your optics," Sideswipe said. "Come on, mech."
Blackangle got to the base of the machine and started climbing.
"Oh, here comes the boss," Sideswipe said. "He looks mad."
Jazz frowned, glancing around for Sunstreaker. The yellow fledgling had stopped about halfway up and was just sitting, staring out over the mounds of junk.
"Blackie you have to check this out!" Sideswipe said.
"I'm coming!" Blackangle said. "Calm down."
They waited for him to get to the top. He didn't seem angry, though. He looked down into the hatch.
"That's pretty cool," he said. "You think they still use this thing, or is it broken?"
"I don't know," Sideswipe said. "Jazz, you think you can get it going?"
"I ain't a mechanic," Jazz said.
"Hey, I got some stuff," Blackangle said. "We can go now if you want."
"We should come back here sometime, though," Sideswipe said. "And see if we can figure out how to get this thing working, because that would be so fragging cool."
"Yeah," Blackangle grinned. "It would."
"We could drive it out of the scrapyard and take it home," Stonethrow said.
Sideswipe laughed. "Yeah, and ride it to school."
"We could fragging destroy the school," Stonethrow grinned. "Just take it apart. No more homework!"
"Yeah," Sideswipe said. "Hang on, I want to look at those controls. Don't shut me in there or I'll sic Sunny on you."
"I'm not your fragging symbiot!" Sunstreaker shouted.
Sideswipe was about to climb down into the little control center, but then a sudden, brilliant light froze them.
"Hey!" a mech's voice shouted. "What are you doing?"
"Frag!" Blackangle growled.
"Run!" Stonethrow gleefully shoved past Sideswipe and started sliding down the big, many-legged machine on the side away from the mech with the light. The others followed.
"Hey!" the mech said again. "Stop right there!"
They all managed to make it to the bottom before the mech reached the machine, and sprinted through the junkyard.
"Split up!" Blackangle shouted as they heard the mech transform behind them. They'd never be able to out-pace him. "Meet up by the exit!"
Stonethrow and Blackangle went one way while the twins went another, and Jazz split off by himself, spark pulsing erratically. They'd been caught. If they didn't get away…
He ran harder, circling around toward the beginning. Fortunately, the guard hadn't come after him.
He met up with the twins near the entrance and stopped, venting hard.
"Hey," Sideswipe said. "You think we should wait for them or just leave?"
Jazz looked up.
If they waited they might get caught.
"Let's go," Sunstreaker said. "Come on."
He and Sideswipe left, but Jazz just stood, waiting. Sirens wailed in the distance, getting louder. Frag, they were in so much trouble.
He heard the sound of running pedes nearby and looked up as Stonethrow and Blackangle came sprinting around the corner.
"Go!" Blackangle said. "Go!"
Jazz ran with them out through the still-open gate…
And into a group of enforcers.
They stopped. Jazz's spark sank. They were so dead.
The guard drove out after them in his alt mode and transformed, and then they were surrounded. Blackangle let out a long, defeated ex-vent.
The twins hadn't made it out either. They were standing off to the side, with an enforcer looming over them.
"All right," one of the enforcers said. "Is this all of you?"
Blackangle glanced at the twins, then looked down.
"Yep," Sideswipe said.
"Some of you go check," one of the enforcers said, gesturing toward the scrapyard. "The rest of you, come on."
Jazz walked beside Blackangle as they were herded away from the gate.
"You mechlings are in so much trouble," the enforcer who seemed to be in charge said. "You know that, right? How did you get in there?"
"The gate was just open," Sideswipe lied.
The mech glared at him. Jazz wondered why he was talking and not Blackangle.
The enforcer turned and glared at the scrapyard guard. "You leave your gates open?"
"No," the mech said. "I swear we… look, I'm not the one who locked up for the orn, my shift started a joor ago."
"Hmm," the enforcer said, looking back at Blackangle and their group. "Wait here. District, Lockup, keep an optic on them. You've got a transport coming to pick them up and take them to the station."
He walked away, beckoning to the scrapyard guard to follow him. Jazz glanced around. There were only two enforcers technically watching them, but there were five all together, and there was no way they'd outrun any of them without alt modes. Jazz looked at Blackangle who was still studying the ground, scowling. Stonethrow was rocking back and forth, muttering to himself about how scrapped they were.
"So," one of the enforcers said. "You said the gate was open, right? What were you five doing out here in the middle of the off-cycle anyway?"
"Um… we were walking home from a party."
"In this part of the sector?" one of the other enforcers said, raising an optic ridge.
"Yeah," Sideswipe said.
"And you saw the open gate and were just like 'hey, let's go check that out,' right?"
"Yep," Sideswipe said. "Pretty much sums it up."
The mech shook his helm.
"What?" Sideswipe said. "Why are we in so much trouble? It's just a scrapyard, right?"
"Well, it's a restricted scrapyard, so technically you were trespassing on government grounds."
"Like… how much trouble are we in?" Sideswipe asked.
"It's not too bad," the enforcer said.
"Don't tell them that, District," the other one said. "You'll make them think they can get away with scrap like this."
"At the very most, we'll keep you in the station over the off-cycle," District said.
"Are you going to comm. our creators?" Sideswipe asked.
"You better believe it," District said. "They'll be able to confirm your story about walking home from a party… unless they didn't know you were gone."
"We're so dead," Stonethrow muttered.
District frowned at Blackangle. "You look familiar, mechling."
Blackangle turned away slightly.
The other enforcer, Lockup, turned to look at him too. "Hey…"
"What?"
"He's not… you're not the chief's, are you?"
"Oh, scrap, it is," District said. "What's you designation? Black… something."
Blackangle crossed his arms.
"Well, I guess we can talk to your creators in person when we get down there," Lookup said. "They're in this off-cycle, right?"
"I think so," District said. "Little mech, you're scrapped."
An enforcement transport drove up and stopped in front of them.
"Ok, come on, get in."
They were herded in through the side. It was a non-sentient transport, with a mech driving it. The less friendly enforcer, Lockup, sat next to the driver, and District sat down in the back with Jazz and the others.
The transport started moving, and Jazz braced himself against the wall. He glanced at Blackangle, who was staring at him.
"Mechlings," Lockup said. "Mechlings are more trouble than they're worth."
"Hey, all of the rest of the chief's have turned out fine," District said.
"What are we talking about?" the driver asked.
Blackangle met Jazz's optics, and then glanced back at the big back doors of the transport.
Jazz followed his gaze to the lock there. He shook his helm slightly. They were in enough trouble without trying to escape. That could end them with more than an uncomfortable call home and an off-cycle in an enforcement station.
The transport went around a corner and Jazz braced against the wall again.
The enforcers continued their conversation, discussing the difficulty of raising sparklings. Blackangle caught Jazz's attention again and pulled a rusty-looking can out of subspace for a moment, before concealing it again and jerking his helm toward the back of the transport.
It took Jazz a few astroseconds, but then he realized what Blackangle was trying to say. He had things in his subspace that could get them in a lot of trouble. More trouble than they'd be in if they ran for it, provided that they got away.
Jazz sighed and started moving toward the back of the transport. The twins seemed to catch on, and moved so they were in front of him, concealing what he was doing. He listened to the enforcers' conversation as he worked, and stopped when District glanced in his direction.
The lock on this door was a difficult one, but not the worst one Jazz had seen. The trick would be getting it open fast enough. He didn't know how long it would be before they got to the enforcement station, and District was watching him suspiciously.
"…Hey, you mechs remember that instructor who was here… like five or six vorns ago?" Lockup was asking.
"What instructor?"
"Um… what was his designation… I can't remember. He was that really grumpy, no-nonsense one. Did you know he adopted a youngling?"
"Wait…" the driver said. "I think I know who you're talking about, but… no way would that mech adopt a youngling."
"He did," Lockup said.
"Nah, I must be thinking of someone else."
District turned his helm to look up at the other two. "It was Warrant."
"Yeah," Lockup said. "That's what his designation was."
Jazz went back to working on the lock.
"And he adopted a youngling?" the driver said. "Frag, I feel sorry for the youngling."
"No," District said. "I ran into him last vorn, and he talked my audio off about it. He did it because social services was tired of trying to find caretakers for the little pit spawn. Honestly, I wasn't paying that much attention, so I can't remember the whole thing. The youngling lost his creators somehow… or maybe they were abusive…"
Jazz got the lock open, but grabbed the doors before they could open.
They were moving faster than Jazz had thought. Jumping off of this thing was going to be dangerous.
"Hey!" Lockup said, glaring over his shoulder at Jazz and the others. "What are you doing."
"Um…" Jazz said, and let the doors swing open.
"Go!" Blackangle shouted and rushed the doors. Stonethrow leaped off with an excited shout, and Blackangle followed closely. Sideswipe grabbed his brother and dragged him out at the same time that Jazz jumped.
The enforcers were shouting, and the driver was already pulling over. Jazz spun in the air and landed in a roll that scraped some of his paint, but didn't do much damage. He was on his pedes and running toward the others in half an astrosecond.
"This way!" he called, and led them off down an alleyway that was narrow enough the enforcers would have to go single file. He pulled up a map of the city in his processor, and planned a route that would make it hard for the enforcers to follow.
Eventually, the sounds of pursuit faded into the distance, and Jazz slowed to a stop and waited for everyone else to catch up. The twins made it first. Sideswipe collapsed against a wall, venting hard while Sunstreaker scowled down at himself in the dim light from a nearby street lamp.
"Why'd you drag me out of the transport?" Sunstreaker growled. "Just look at this."
Sideswipe laughed. "That was awesome."
Blackangle caught up and stopped, then glanced behind himself. Stonethrow had lagged behind, and was limping pretty heavily.
He didn't seem really upset, though.
"We got away!" he said once he'd caught up to them. "We got away! That was slagging awesome! We made it!"
"Yep," Blackangle said. "Thanks, Jazz, you're a genius."
"No problem," Jazz said.
"Yeah, thanks a lot," Sunstreaker was still checking himself for scratches. "Next time let's not jump off a moving transport, maybe."
"Hey," Blackangle said. "I still can't believe that worked. Mechs, we got away from the enforcers."
"You're so dead, though," Sideswipe said.
"I can talk my way out of it," Blackangle said. "Maybe I'll be grounded for a quartex, but short of actually locking me up, there's not much my creators can do."
Stonethrow leaned against the wall, then sat down, clutching his leg.
"Well," Blackangle said. "That was kind of fun."
"Yeah," Sideswipe said. "Stones, you ok?"
"Yes," Stonethrow moaned. "I'm fine."
"Well," Blackangle said. "We should probably get home before anyone else's creators find out they're gone. I'll see you mechs in school next orn."
"Come on, Stones, we'll get you home," Sideswipe said.
Sunstreaker rolled his optics, but didn't protest as his brother helped the other mech up.
Jazz left and headed back across the city on his own. His spark was still pulsing a little faster than average. Blackangle was right—that had been kind of fun.
Jazz closed the door very softly behind himself when he came into the house, then turned around and froze.
He'd expected Vibes to be recharging, but she wasn't. Or at least, she wasn't in her room. She was sitting at the table with her helm in her arms. Her posture brought Jazz back to another time when he'd woken up in the off-cycle, feeling as if something wasn't quite right, and had gone out to find her with her helm in her arms on the table. That had been in in Polyhex 17, though, and more than a vorn ago.
He stood in the doorway, a feeling a little like he had then, only guilty this time. He decided against talking to her. He could just slip into his room and confront her the next on-cycle. He skirted the edge of the room to the doorway that would lead him…
"Jazz."
He froze, and looked over at her. She sat up. "Vibes."
"Come here."
You did not disobey when she used that tone of voice. Jazz walked over to the table, and sat down across from her.
"Ya wanna tell me where ya've been?"
"Uh…" Jazz said. "Just…"
"…Out with your friends?"
"Yeah," Jazz shrugged. "Just, ya know, hanging out at Blackangles's house and…"
"Nuh-uh, don't you lie ta me, sparklin'!"
Jazz looked down.
"Ya tell me the truth or don't say nothin' at all."
Silence fell.
"Fine," Vibes said. "After school for the next quartex, ya can come straight home and stay here, and I don't want you hanging around those friends of yours any more."
"But Vibes!"
"Don't ya even try ta argue, young mech, ya don't know how serious this is!" Vibes stood up, optics burning. "We came ta this city ta get a fresh start, slag it!"
Jazz looked down.
"Ya threw away the future ya wanted, but that doesn't mean you can stop trying! A fresh start means things change! No more lies, no runnin' around doing Primus knows what in the middle of the off-cycle, no more breaking the rules! You're better than this, Jazz!"
"Ok," Jazz huffed a sigh. "But I'm not gonna ditch my friends."
"Yes you are," Vibes growled. "'specially if they're getting ya in trouble."
"But they're…" Jazz said.
"Ya can find new friends," Vibes said. "Just put on a smile and talk ta the other mecha in the school. I know that not every mech and femme there is a criminal. Sparklin', why can't ya just find friends who won't get ya in trouble?"
"I don't know," Jazz said. "Maybe cuz everyone else's just…"
"Maybe it's you," Vibes said. "You're so sulky all the time. If I was another youngling, I wouldn't touch you with a ten meter pole."
Jazz glared at her.
"Jus' like that," she said with a bit of a smirk. Then she sighed, shuttering her optics. "Look, I'm glad ya ain't hurt or in trouble, but ya scared me, mechling."
Jazz looked down. "So…"
"So ya're still grounded for a quartex, and I still expect ya ta ditch those friends of yours."
"Maybe…" Jazz said. "Maybe it just don't matter. It's not like…" Jazz trailed off. He was a failure already—why couldn't she just accept that?
"Oh, no ya don't," Vibes said. "I see that look. You are not givin' up on yourself."
Jazz crossed his arms on the table and huffed out an exasperated vent. "Then what am I supposed ta do? I hate school. I already know everything they're teaching."
Vibes sat back down and spoke more softly. "Jazz, that ain't an excuse ta sneak out in the middle of the off-cycle and then lie ta me."
Jazz couldn't argue with that. Guilt filled his spark, and he wanted to apologize, but… he really didn't deserve her forgiveness.
"Ya think I'm like everyone else," Vibes said. "That I don't know how smart ya are. Jazz, Primus knows ya can do anything you want. So what do you want?"
"I can't," Jazz said. "I can't do anything I want."
"Don't say that," Vibes said.
"But it's true. There's a whole slagging lot of things I want ta do that I can't."
Vibes cocked an optic ridge. Jazz wasn't sure if it was in response to his pessimism, or the curse word. Jazz met her optics for a moment, and looked away again.
"Sparklin'…"
He looked back at her, surprised at the amusement in her voice.
"I take it back about not touchin' ya with a ten meter pole, you're kinda cute when you're sulking."
Jazz glared at her, and her smile deepened a little.
"Ya know," she said. "That was one thing I liked about your mech creator. Oh, Primus, I was a stupid, stupid youngling."
"Yeah," Jazz said bitterly. "I'm just like him, ain't I?"
"No," Vibes reached across the table for Jazz's hand. "Ya ain't. You're smarter, and braver. You're not even an adult yet, and you're twice the mech he was. Don't you ever forget that."
Jazz pulled his hand away.
"Now go get some recharge," Vibes said.
"Ok," Jazz got up from the table. "Sorry I scared ya."
Vibes caught his arm as he walked past her. "Look at me."
He met her optics.
"Ya're forgiven," Vibes said. "Don't do it again."
Jazz forced a smile, feeling marginally better, and left his femme creator sitting at the table.
-The Present-
The music intensified, as they were led into what looked like a pretty typical bar. Low lights, loud music, mechs and femmes talking and laughing and over-energizing. Jazz and the others trailed after Branchbinder as he made his way through the room, but he noticed most of the other mechs who'd been walking with them went different ways. Branchbinder motioned for the initiates to follow him. They did, though Stonethrow looked longingly around at the crowd, and Jazz kind of wanted to stay as well.
They went through a door on the far side and down a relatively quiet hallway.
"So…" Blackangle said.
"So," Branchbinder stopped and turned around. They only had two other Quantum mechs with them now. "That's the lounge. You'll be back in there in a couple of breems. They'll assign you into teams later. First, you need to meet Hegemony. Come."
He led the way down the hall, around the corner, and to a set of double doors. The initiates hesitated, but Branchbinder walked up to the doors and they opened for him, to a large room full of darkness and shadows.
A small group of mecha stood around a high-backed chair where a large mech, painted black and dark blue, sat. His optics glowed a dim red-purple. "Branch, friends, welcome in."
There was something about his voice Jazz didn't like. His words were friendly and welcoming, but the tone was somehow icy.
"Here are the new initiates, sir," Branchbinder said. "This is Blackangle, Stonethrow. The red and yellow are Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. And this is Jazz."
Jazz wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but the mech's optics seemed to linger on him longer than the others.
"Good," he said. "I'm sure you'll all find your place here soon enough. I am Hegemony, the leader—if you will—of this organization."
Silence fell as he studied each of them in turn again.
"You five are young, I'm told. Graduated from secondary just this off-cycle?"
"Yes," Blackangle said. Jazz could tell he was nervous, even though his voice was strong and calm.
"Good," Hegemony said. "The young are often valuable contributors. I'll leave the specific briefing to whoever is directly in charge of you. But first, I need two things from you. I want you to tell me what you think you have to offer us, and I need you to swear loyalty to me. Branchbinder will assign you to your individual teams, and some of them have further initiation processes, but I like to meet all of the mecha under my protection at least once."
Silence fell again.
"Blackangle, care to go first?" Branchbinder prompted.
Blackangle frowned at him for a moment, then shook his helm slightly and looked back at Hegemony. "I didn't think about joining Quantum before, but now that I'm here, I'm really starting to like the idea. I can be plenty useful. My creators are high-ranking enforcers, so I'm sure I have some information that would be useful for you."
"Your creators are enforcers," Hegemony turned his gaze on Branchbinder.
"Yes," Blackangle said. "But I don't take after them much. In fact, the prospect of selling them out doesn't bother me at all."
"Hmm…" Hegemony seemed to be considering something. He nodded slightly.
"As for my loyalty, you can have it," Blackangle said. "You and this organization, and all that you do. I swear it."
"Thank you," Hegemony said, and turned his attention to the twins.
"My brother and I are twins," Sideswipe said. "We can fight, and we're fast learners. We like action, and there's not really a place for us in the system, so we'd be happy to stand with you and yours, so long as we're accepted for who we are."
Hegemony nodded. "Prove yourselves and you'll move up. Twins can be a force to be reckoned with."
"Thanks," Sideswipe said.
Then the mech focused his optics on Jazz, but Stonethrow cut in.
"I'm in all the way," he said. "I can fight too, and I'm good at pretty much everything."
"Hmmm," Hegemony said. "Good. Thank you. What about you?"
Jazz looked down. Here he was—what would happen if he turned this mech down? It was probably too late for that. "I…"
"Not very sure of yourself, are you?"
Jazz took in a deep vent. "I'm not. But like the twins said, there ain't really a place for me in the system, not after some of the things I've done. I'm a hacker, sir, and good at getting inta stuff. I haven't run across any code I can't break yet."
Hegemony frowned at him in a way that made him very uncomfortable. He tried not to show it.
"And I'm willing ta swear loyalty as well. I ain't got nowhere else ta go, and this seems like a place my kinda skill set would be appreciated."
"Not quite as enthusiastic as your friends," Hegemony said. "But good enough, I suppose. There's nothing wrong with being cautious before you trust someone, and so far I doubt we've done much to gain your trust. Stick with us, though, and you'll see." He smiled. "Thank you, Branchbinder. This is a fine batch of initiates. Send them back to the lounge and make sure Lilac sees all of them. And I want to talk to you alone, as soon as you're free."
Branchbinder nodded, and waved the rest of them out of the room after him.
Notes:
1. I have a little story about Sideswipe and Sunstreaker called "Split" which you should read if you want to know more about their childhood.
