Jazz was still staring at the door Hegemony had left through when Blackangle came back.

"Hey. What are you looking at?" the other mech asked, setting a cube of glowing high-grade in front of Jazz. He must not have noticed the change in the atmosphere when Hegemony had come in.

"Nothin'" Jazz took the cube. "Thanks."

"Don't mention," Blackangle said. "Something's on your processor, though." He took a gulp of his own cube.

Jazz looked down into the bright blue liquid, remembering the time Stonethrow had managed to steal them some, back in school. This time was different. They were adults now. Their systems could handle it. He raised his cube to his lip plates and sipped. He shuttered his optics as he felt it hit his tanks. "Is this really what ya wanna end up doing?"

"Don't know," Blackangle looked down. "A little fast, isn't it?"

"Yeah. An' I think it's my fault too."

Blackangle looked up. "Huh?"

Jazz raised his cube to his lip plates again and drank more deeply this time. "I'm sorry if this don't work out."

"What do you mean it's your fault?" Blackangle asked.

Jazz wasn't entirely sure. But he felt… felt almost as if the whole reason they were being initiated was that Quantum wanted him. The way Branchbinder and Hegemony were looking at him, the fact that as soon as he was alone, Hegemony had come to talk to him… they were obviously more interested in him than any of his friends.

Then again, they probably wouldn't have been able to pull off half of the things they had if Jazz hadn't been helping them. They were all in over their helms.

Jazz figured he'd probably be ok. He'd already been trying to figure out who was more or less dangerous. At some point, Branchbinder had come back in and the fact that Jazz hadn't noticed him come in was kind of frightening. He acted like he was some sort of recruiter, but he had to be more than that.

"Jazz."

"Huh? Oh, nothing." He didn't want to voice his guess. He didn't want to imply that he thought he was more important than Blackangle. It wasn't true, and he wouldn't mean it that way, but his friend would hear it that way.

The twins came back into the room and made their way over to the table. Sunstreaker looked to be in a foul mood.

"All right," Blackangle said. "Guess it's my turn." He drained his cube of high-grade, and passed the twins on the way out.

They came over and sat down. Sideswipe had Quantum in blue and purple up his right arm.

Sunstreaker saw Jazz looking and held up a hand. On the back of it, in very small, off-center glyphs, was the word.

"She made it lopsided on purpose," he complained.

"Could have just got it on your arm or something," Sideswipe said.

Sunstreaker glared at him.

"Where are you going to get yours, Jazz?" Sideswipe asked. "I dare you to get it on the back of your helm, or across your back like Stonethrow."

Jazz shrugged and downed the rest of his high-grade. "Don't know."

"Not going to let Stones show you up, are you?" Sideswipe asked.

Jazz smiled. "Well, you did."

Sideswipe looked down at his arm. "Well, I don't want to look like a fragging idiot."

"Good luck with that," Sunstreaker mumbled.

"You're just sore cuz she called you a wimp," Sideswipe said.

Sunstreaker glared again, this time as if he meant it, and Sideswipe backed off and changed the subject.

"So where did Stones go?"

Jazz pointed to where Stonethrow was talking animatedly at a table of mechs and femmes who were, for the most part, ignoring him.

Sunstreaker looked in that direction, then back, rolling his optics. Sideswipe, however, didn't look away from Jazz, a puzzled, almost worried expression on his faceplate.

"Some kind of feedback in your processor, Jazz?" he asked.

Jazz shrugged. "Just not too sure about this whole thing."

"Come on," Sideswipe said with a grin. "It'll be cool. And the five of us will stick together."

That was something, at least. Jazz looked down at his empty cube of high-grade.

"How is it?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Good," Jazz said. "Let's go find some more."

Blackangle came back a few breems later with the brand still smoking on his shoulder.

"Your turn," Sideswipe nudged Jazz. "Dare you to get it right across your chest."

Jazz smiled. "Jus' wait." He got up and passed Blackangle on his way out of the room. With most of two cubes of high-grade in his tanks, he was feeling a lot better about the situation in general. This was going to be great. This was where he belonged.


-A quarter of a vorn ago-


When school was over for the orn, Jazz went to wait in front of the building. They'd been planning this since the beginning of last term. They'd all had their alt modes for about a decaorn now, and Stonethrow had come to their free joor with the news that the Track was closed for the orn.

The twins showed up next.

"Hi Jazz!" Sideswipe said as they approached. Jazz jerked his helm in acknowledgment and leaned against the front of the building. Blackangle came out a few astroseconds after the twins, and then they all watched as the flood of students became a trickle.

"Where's Stones?" Blackangle said.

"Probably saw something shiny in a ventilation duct and climbed in after it." Sideswipe shrugged. "Or completely forgot. Or maybe he thought he might be able to fly if he jumped off the roof of the…"

"Hey mechs!" Stonethrow barreled out the door. "Phew, I thought you'd leave without me. Sorry, I got held up by a teacher. Let's go!"

He transformed and shot out over the stairs with a screech of glee, wheels spinning. But his back wheel hit the bottom step and he shifted back to root mode, tumbling. The others followed him down the stairs on pede.

"You ok, Stones?" Sideswipe said.

"Yeah," Stonethrow got up with a grin. "Race you there." He transformed and drove away, and Jazz and the others followed suite this time and chased after him.


The Track was an enormous racing arena. It wasn't a straight speed race either, it was full of sharp turns and obstacles. It was privately-owned though, and only professional racers could drive it. Jazz and the others had snuck in to watch races a couple of times, but they'd always wanted to get on there and try it out.

And fortunately for them, Jazz could pretty much get them whatever they wanted.

They sped down the road. Other mecha shouted at them as they rocketed past. Jazz was caught up in the thrill of pure, unadulterated speed. It was a little hard to keep up at first, but after a few breems, Stonethrow seemed to run out of energy and slowed to a crawl which forced the other alts in the road had to go around him.

"Great idea, Stones," Sideswipe said, once he and Sunstreaker had caught up. "Drag us across the city until we're all too tired to even care about the Track,"

Blackangle caught up too, and passed them. "Hey, keep up!"

They were halfway across the sector in less than a joor. The ability to transform just opened up the entire world. It had only been a decaorn and already Jazz wasn't sure how he'd ever gotten places without it.

They stopped a couple of blocks from the Track.

"Ok," Blackangle said. "Jazz?"

"The back door," Jazz said. "We can fry the camera there from a distance. Come on."

They followed him. In a few breems, they were sneaking through the empty ground-level stands. They stopped when they got to the railing.

"Lo and behold," Stonethrow flung his arms wide. "The Track!"

It had been a while, and Jazz had forgotten how massive it was. The stands were so far away that the slight fog in the atmosphere made them look white and washed out behind the hills and loops and platforms of the track.

Sideswipe vaulted over the railing and Sunstreaker and Blackangle followed him. Jazz waited for Stonethrow, and then brought up the rear. They walked around toward the starting line. They were almost there when Blackangle transformed and sped past them, narrowly missing Sunstreaker. "Slowpokes!" he shouted.

"Hey!" Sideswipe called. "Cheating!"

The others all transformed and roared off toward the beginning of the track.

"Hey, Jazz!" Stonethrow called behind himself. "You gonna race or what?"

Jazz transformed and shot after them.

The first few turns were pretty simple, and Jazz had trouble closing their lead. Then there were some jumps, and some more, sharper turns. The track went through fields of low mounds and up steep hills. Stonethrow took a sharp turn and rolled a couple of times, and Jazz got ahead of him, then caught up to and passed Blackangle as well. Sunstreaker was in the lead by then, and Sideswipe wouldn't let Jazz get past, playfully swerving to block him, until Blackangle came up and drove past them both. The others skidded to a stop as they came to the first big jump, except for Stonethrow who bulleted past them, screaming wildly, and made the jump without a problem.

"Lunatic," Blackangle growled, and backed up so he could try too.

After that jump, the track became a three-level maze. There were five or six different setups for the maze, and apparently, they picked a random one to change it to before the start of each race. None of the racers would know which one it was. You were supposed to get to the top floor, though, and take a ramp down to the next part of the race. Jazz made it out first and basically let himself freefall down the ramp, loving the feel of the atmosphere tugging at his hood as he rushed forward. He sped through the agility test that was next, ducking and dodging and driving on a strip of land that was barely wider than he was. An adult mech might have to balance on two wheels for that part.

Then he came to a jump that was entirely impossible. It was a reasonably short ramp, then a chasm, then a solid wall that went up far too high to reach, no matter how fast you were going. He skidded to a stop and stared for a few breems, trying to figure out how in the universe you were supposed to get past this obstacle. He was tempted to check the public database to see if it had any answers, but decided against it because that would be cheating.

The others caught up and stopped.

"Whoa," Stonethrow said. "What the frag is that?"

In response, Jazz backed up, then shot forward. He took the ramp and sailed over the ditch. Then he transformed midair and spun just in time to catch onto one of the handholds on the wall. The others cheered as he swung around and waved.

Stonethrow tried to follow him, but Sideswipe beat him to the ramp. Jazz watched his friend transform, but Sideswipe was at the wrong angle and going too fast. He hit the wall and bounced off, then fell.

"Sideswipe!" Sunstreaker transformed out of his alt mode.

Jazz watched as the red fledgling fell down, and then hit the ground. Hard.

Sunstreaker sprinted up to the edge, and jumped off. He landed in a neat roll and rushed to his twin's side. Jazz started climbing down the wall, and dropped to the ground when he was close enough he knew it wouldn't hurt him.

"Sides… Sideswipe get up!"

Jazz had never heard that much emotion in Sunstreaker's voice before. Sideswipe moaned as his brother dragged him to a sitting position. One of his legs was bent and broken and Jazz was willing to bet there had been some internal damage too.

"You idiot!" Sunstreaker growled. "What the frag did you think you were doing?"

"I'm fine," Sideswipe mumbled.

"You could have landed on your helm and cracked it open!" Sunstreaker grabbed Sideswipe by the shoulders and dragged him to his pedes before slamming him against the nearest wall. "You could have slagging got yourself offlined!"

"Ow! Let go, Sunny."

Sunstreaker shoved him hard and then backed away. He looked down at himself and sighed. "And I'm all covered in scratches from jumping down here… I thought you were badly hurt, don't do that, ugh."

"Oh, sorry," Sideswipe winced as he shifted his weight. "Did I make you mess up your paint job?"

"Shut up!" Sunstreaker said. "Slag it, Sides, we can't get a medic for that, we don't have the credits."

Sideswipe frowned down at the twisted and crumpled plating on his leg. "Maybe my self-repair can handle it?"

Jazz doubted that.

"I mean, we'll probably have to straighten it out…"

Sunstreaker grabbed his twin and slammed him back into the wall again. "Just shut up!"

"Ow. You know you're helping a lot."

"Mechs," Jazz said quietly, "Let's just… get out of here, ok?"

"You would have done it too. It's not my fault I fell, Jazz made it look really easy."

Jazz looked back up at the handholds on the wall. Was this his fault? Sideswipe tried to take a step away from the wall, and Sunstreaker ducked under his arm to support him when he cried out and nearly fell.

"Think you're fragging immortal, don't you?" Sunstreaker grumbled.

Fortunately, there was a path out of the ditch that led up and around to an earlier part of the track. Stonethrow and Blackangle came from that way and met them. They transformed as they reached Jazz and the twins.

"Slag," Blackangle said. "Sides…"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Sideswipe said as he limped slowly forward, supported by his scowling twin.

"Can you transform?" Blackangle asked. "Then you wouldn't need to limp."

Sideswipe tried a couple of times before successfully transforming, and they all rolled back toward the entrance of the Track.

"So that was fun," Stonethrow said.

"Yeah," Sideswipe agreed, though he sounded a little strained. "Next time, I'll make that jump."

"Next time I'll tie you up and leave you at home," Sunstreaker grumbled.

"Hey!"

They all froze. The guard was standing on a different level of the track, staring at them.

"Oh, Pit, run." Blackangle said, and they all took off, headed for the entrance. Sideswipe lagged behind, and Blackangle and Stonethrow shot far ahead of him. Jazz almost went with them, but then let himself fall back to be with the twins.

The guard caught up to them.

"What do you crazy fledglings think you're doing! You're going to get your slagging selves killed. Out! Get out!" He shoved them back toward the entrance of the Track and escorted them out the front door, grumbling that he ought to call the enforcers and promising that if he ever saw them around again, he'd have them arrested.

They drove slowly away—slowly for Sideswipe's sake—and stopped around the corner. Sideswipe transformed again and sat down against the wall, optics shuttered and faceplate tight with pain.

Sunstreaker transformed as well and stood over his twin, arms crossed.

"So," Jazz said, joining them in mech form, "You two gonna be able ta make it home?"

"Yeah," Sunstreaker said.

Sideswipe shook his helm. "Not with my leg busted like this. They'll have a fit and you'll end up out in the streets for a quartex. We have to find a medic..."

"Anything I can do?"

"No," Sunstreaker said. "We're ok…" he sighed and glanced over his shoulder. "Slagging cowards just left us there, didn't they?"

Jazz shrugged. "I almost did too, ta be honest."

Sunstreaker nodded.

"Well, I'll see ya at school then."

"See you," Sideswipe replied.


Jazz was supposed to be at home. Vibes had grounded him for a quartex because he and his friends had gotten caught trespassing in another junkyard. Then shortly after that, he'd been suspended from school, and so his femme creator had doubled his sentence, and taken away everything he owned.

He'd only made it two orns sitting all alone in his room, before he'd given in and sneaked out. Now he was wandering the center of Polyhex, losing himself in the lights and sounds. This was one thing he'd missed while they'd been in Kalis. He remembered Vibes taking him to work when he was very young, hiding him in a cupboard at the energon hall she'd worked at. There had always been loud music at the place across the street, and the babble of mecha talking had been soothing. He hadn't minded much not having anything to do back then. He'd spent his time trying to pick out whose voice was whose, and looking for opportunities when no one else was looking to sneak from cupboard to cupboard.

That was back when nothing much had been expected of him, so no one could be disappointed in him. He missed those orns.

He wished he could drive there, but sector seventeen was a long way away, and he did actually want to get home for the off-cycle. He wandered for a while, and ended up in an unfamiliar place. He considered checking a map just to see where he was, but then decided he really didn't care. He didn't need to have any sort of destination. He just needed to drive.

He really ought to straighten out his life. Sure there were lines he wouldn't cross, but it seemed he pushed those lines back orn by orn. Blackie and the others were great friends, but maybe Jazz ought to opt out from their next excursion. No, there was no maybe about it.

He got to a more populated place, with lots of mecha walking, so he transformed and walked as well, past little shops and bars, and through the crowds. He started to get the itchy sensation that he was being watched so he stopped and looked around. The street was full of mecha. Anyone could be watching him.

"Hey, mechling."

Jazz jumped, spinning to see the mech who'd spoken just behind him. "Hey," he stepped to the side to be out of the way of other pedestrians.

"How's life going for you?" the mech asked quietly. He was familiar. Where had Jazz seen him before?

Oh yes. He'd shown up out of nowhere that time they'd robbed the paint shop.

"Mechling?"

Jazz shook himself. "Sorry. You…Branchbinder, was it?"

"Yeah. What was your designation again?"

Jazz hesitated.

"Ok, ok, don't trust me, I get it," Branchbinder said.

Jazz narrowed his optics. "Ya been following me?"

"No," Branchbinder said, raising an optic ridge. "Why would I waste my time doing that?"

"There was somethin' ya wanted from us," Jazz said. "Wasn't there?"

"Something I wanted? Mechling, you should consider yourself lucky I still even remember you."

"Yeah, ya made some kind of offer."

"Indeed. Are you looking for employment? You're still a little young, but…"

"No, not presently," Jazz said. "Just curious as ta what ya were talkin' about."

"I see," Branchbinder said. "You're the 'ask questions first' type."

"Most of the time," Jazz said, noticing as a passing femme gave them a funny look.

"If you really want to know more," Branchbinder said. "I would suggest you ask your friend for that comm. code I gave you. You can contact me with it, and I'll get back to you. This isn't a good place to talk."

Jazz nodded, and refrained from glancing over his shoulder, letting his audios tell him if someone walking by stopped to listen. "I got another question though," Jazz said.

"Ok," Branchbinder shrugged. "Shoot, mechling."

"Ya really… ya really haven't been watching us?"

"Watching you?" Branchbinder asked. "I already said no. Why the pit would I bother myself with that?"

"Don't know," Jazz said. "Sometimes I just get the funny feeling I've got optics on me."

"Probably just paranoia" Branchbinder said, then shook his helm. "Look, comm. me if you want to talk to me. Otherwise I'll see you around… Jazz."

Jazz froze.

Branchbinder smiled slightly and turned to walk away.


Jazz's suspension ended and he went back to school. He debated about it for quartexes, but eventually decided to ask Blackangle for that data chip with Branchbinder's comm. codes on it. But Blackie told him it had disappeared shortly after he'd gotten it.

"I know," he said when he picked out the disappointment in Jazz's expression. "I was going to prank him or something, but I lost it."

He kept an optic out, though, and noticed Branchbinder on several occasions that school term. He didn't want to talk to him, though. It didn't seem like Branchbinder was out to harm them in any way. Probably something more like recruit them. Jazz wasn't really interested in getting recruited, but he was definitely curious.

He wasn't doing very well in school. His grades were more and more consistently bad, mostly because he couldn't be bothered to do his school work anymore. It was pointless.

He wasn't sure what to do, actually. Stonethrow always had interesting, dangerous ideas, but as they got more interesting and dangerous, Jazz only found that he hadn't hit his limits yet. There wasn't much he couldn't pull off by some combination of quick thinking, clever hacking, and dumb luck. Part of him wanted to try even more interesting things, but he still didn't want to step over that line into the realm of real crime. Petty theft and trespassing were bad enough.

He made himself an expert, though, on the city, using information from the public database. He had been hoping to find some interesting scientific articles to read, but had discovered that there was nothing educational in the ways of technology or science. There was plenty of history, though, and many maps. The news was good too, but Jazz got the feeling it was more than half lies.

It was surreal, sometimes, to think that the world was a very different place from what he could see with his optics, and what everymech wanted to tell him. The shadows had shadows, and it seemed that corruption festered in every spark, except in those mecha who didn't know enough to be corrupt.

That all helped him feel better about what he and his friends got up to. After all, they were just a bunch of fledglings having fun. The real criminals were the mecha on the Council and in the gangs.

Time ticked by, and secondary school drew nearer to its end. Jazz was more and more worried about the future. He balked at the idea of finding some standard job, like construction or accounting or mining. But you had to have a good record to do anything interesting, and Jazz's record was anything but clean. Not to mention his grades were horrible. He was just barely going to graduate.

But what did it matter? Even if he'd done his best and kept his olfactory sensor out of trouble, his highest possible ambitions could only have been to be in charge of a construction crew, or manager of a small store somewhere. Nothing interesting.

He started to dread graduation, as he and his friends all officially became adults, and he felt his guardian bond with Vibes weakening, and he knew that soon he would no longer have a home and would need to fend for himself. Sometimes he didn't feel like he was ready for that. Other times, he wished it would just happen already.

The graduation ceremony took what seemed like ages. Jazz got his diploma. He had located Vibes in the crowd, but couldn't tell whether she was pleased or not. He knew he wasn't pleased with himself, but that was nothing new.

Stonethrow looked back from two rows in front of Jazz. "Don't forget," he mouthed. He had insisted that once the ceremony was over, and they'd all gone home for the off-cycle, they were to sneak out and meet him in the city, at a location he'd provided. Jazz knew he was going to go, even though he thought he probably shouldn't. There just wasn't any questioning it.

The ceremony ended. Everyone clapped. Jazz got up with his peers and walked out of the building. He passed Blackangle at some point.

"Congrats, mech," Blackangle said quietly.

"You too."

"See you soon."

"Yep."

Then he saw Vibes and headed in her direction. She enfolded him in a warm embrace.

"So," she said. "You want to go get some energon somewhere? Or just go home?"

"Let's just go home," Jazz said.

They drove in silence, but when they got home, it was obvious Vibes wanted to talk. She got out some energon, and set it on the table. Jazz wanted to meet up with his friends, but he didn't want to be rude so he sat down.

"I am proud of you," Vibes said. "I know ya could have done better, but ya also could have done worse. It's been a hard vorn for both of us."

She didn't know. Maybe she did deep down, but she didn't want to admit it. Jazz had only been caught once or twice, and she had no idea the sort of things they got up to on a decaorn-to-decaorn basis.

"But ya stuck it out. I was worried for a while."

Jazz shrugged. "Me too, I guess."

"So, what now?" Vibes asked, and Jazz thought he saw something knowing in her optics. "What are your plans?"

"Don't know," Jazz said. "I'll look around, ya know, get a job somewhere."

"Get on it," Vibes smiled so he knew she was teasing. "I ain't feeding you forever."

"Ok, ok," Jazz said as he stood, pretending to be offended. "I get it, I'll pay my own way, all right?"

"Mechling, I was just joking."

"No ya weren't," Jazz said, feeling suddenly gloomy. "And ya aren't really proud of me either. I wouldn't be if I were you."

"Jazz!"

"I'm… tired. I'm gonna go recharge, all right?"

"Jazz…"

Jazz left and went to his room. Then he shut the door and lay down on his berth to wait.

Vibes came in, but didn't talk to him. He lay as still as he could, pretending to be recharging. She left and after a while, he risked getting off the berth. He passed the main room where the energon was still out on the table. He felt kind of bad, but he hadn't been lying. He didn't think she was really proud of him, nor should she be. It was too late to deserve her pride. It had been too late the orn he'd been expelled from the school in Kalis. It had been too late the moment he'd stood there and watched while Motormaster smashed Soundwave's screen against the corner of that table. He had been willing to stand and watch while someone else was hurt—he'd been willing to do the hurting some of the time.

At least Blackangle never did much of that.

Jazz made it out of the house without Vibes noticing, and raced off through the dark streets to meet up with his friends.


-The Present-


He walked down the hall, leaving light and music and talking behind him until he got to an open door.

The light in this room was brighter, and the music softer. There were several berths, and a desk strewn with medical tools, datapads, and cans of paint. A femme, reflective black with curling purple and white flames painted all over her frame was sitting at the desk. She looked up and smiled when he came in.

"Hey, " she said with a Stanix accent. "Last one, aren't you?" She seemed authentically cheerful, which was refreshing after Branchbinder and Hegemony.

Jazz nodded. "That's me."

"I'm Lilac," she stood. "Have a seat. Now, let's see… where do you want the Quantum brand?" She studied him with a bit of a smile. "I think it'll look good against your colors."

Jazz looked down at himself. The blue and purple would stand out against his white and black.

"You going to be a loose socket like the first one and have me paint it all over you, or a sparkling like your grumpy, yellow friend?"

Jazz looked up, smiling, and told her where he wanted the brand.

Her optics widened, and he could hear her processor stall for an instant. Then she smiled as well. "Ooohh, bold. Yes, I can do that, if you're sure."

Jazz nodded.

"Lie down then," she said, then went back to her desk. "This ought to be fun. I haven't done anything like this in a while. I think I'll make the brand from scratch. Using normal materials won't work in this case anyway. Might take a little longer than normal, but I wouldn't want to mess something like this up." She gathered things and came over to the berth again. Jazz lay down and shuttered his optics.

"So, where you from?" Lilac asked pleasantly. "Here?"

"Yeah," Jazz said. "Just graduated from secondary out in the suburbs."

"Wow. I knew you mechs were young, but… slag, they get them younger and younger as the vorns go by. Hold still, this'll sting a little."

Jazz felt something hot pressed against the right side of his faceplate and managed just barely not to flinch. "How'd you get into Quantum?"

"Not sure," Jazz said. "A while back, Branchbinder caught us takin' stuff from a store, and I guess he was impressed with the way we did it. I think he's been watching us since then."

"Hmmm," Lilac said. Jazz felt another something hot pressed to his face, just next to his right optic.

Lilac kept talking to him while she worked. By the end of it, his faceplate was sore, but he'd made her laugh a couple of times. Then she painted. Jazz could hear the paint hissing and blistering on the hot metal she'd welded to his faceplate, but she assured him that was supposed to happen.

"All right," she said eventually. "You can open your optics silly."

Jazz did, and she leaned forward, resting her elbows on his chassis and studying his face. "Hmmm… your otpics don't match it."

"That's ok."

"Really? They really don't... Not that they aren't a nice color or anything, but… I can change them if you like. I'm a medic, you know, not just an artist."

Jazz wasn't so sure about that.

"I do this sort of thing all the time," Lilac said. "I've gotten pretty fast at it. I understand if you don't trust me, though." She smiled at him, leaning forward until their faceplates were almost touching. Then she grimaced. "It really would look better. Please let me change your optic color."

"All right," Jazz said. "If ya really want ta."

She stood straight again. "Ok. I'll have to put you into medical stasis for a few breems, tough. Unless you want to be conscious for optic surgery, and I'm willing to bet a lot you don't."

Jazz nodded. "That's all right." He thought he ought to be a little more worried about this, but he wasn't particularly frightened. He'd be fine.


"Awake in there?"

"Yeah." Everything was dark. He could barely make out Lilac's optics and the faintly glowing flames painted over her frame. "But I can't see."

She laughed. "That's because I turned the lights off before I brought you back online, silly. Sit up and look in the mirror."

Jazz sat, feeling a little dizzy, but that was probably the high-grade. He stopped when he saw his reflection.

The glyphs were welded in purple and blue, right across his faceplate, curling around his optics. His optics, which had been a sort of glassy green, were now purple and blue as well. He had no idea how Lilac had done it, but they shifted from a red-purple in the center to a deep blue at the edge. They glowed more brightly than the glyphs and stood out in the darkness.

"What do you think?" Lilac asked. She sounded like she actually wanted to know.

He let a slow smile creep onto his face. Let Stonethrow show him up? Ha. "I like it."