"So," Jazz said. "The supply run…"

Branchbinder didn't look up. "Yes?"

"Ya have deals with the Council. I bet they don't want ya ta steal their energon and blow up their refineries."

"You think?"

"That's what all the secrecy is about, so they think it was an accident, so they don't realize ya aren't holding up your end of the deal."

"See, you're good at this," Branchbinder said. "Now go find something to do. I'm too busy to bother with you right now. Go make some friends. I'll have you come train in a few joors."

"Ok," Jazz said, and left Branchbinder's office, which he'd managed to find using the blueprints. He hadn't gotten much recharge the off-cycle before. He'd thought through some ways to get out of this mess. He and Vibes would have to disappear—they knew where she lived and could use her against him so he'd have to take her with him—and find somewhere safe to hide. He could do it…

But he was scared.

Branchbinder had resources he didn't know about, and if the mech hunted him down with the intention of killing him, Jazz knew he could do it. If it was just him, he might be willing to take his chances, but he didn't want to put his femme creator in danger.

So for now he would stay.

He would stay until he knew enough to get out of here safely, and then he would run. Should he tell his friends? Should he take them with him? He wasn't sure. Blackangle and Stonethrow seemed to be happy with this situation, but the twins might want out.

One orn at a time—he didn't have to worry about that yet.


It seemed like a different group of mecha were at the lounge every time he showed up. He headed for a table with a few empty chairs and introduced himself. He made sure not to talk to too many different mecha because he didn't want it to look like he was taking a survey or trying to meet everyone. They had to think he was fairly normal.

He was there for a long time, making friends, joking, occasionally laughing with them. Mecha came and left.

At a certain point, Midnight showed up. She sat at a table by herself, and Jazz caught her watching him after a while. He waited until he had a good opportunity and then went over to her.

"Making friends?" she said.

"Yeah."

"You like mecha, don't you?"

"Yeah," Jazz said. "Mecha are great."

"No, they're annoying."

Jazz shrugged.

"Including you." She glared at him. "In any case, you stayed pretty calm last off-cycle. Focused too. I'm not sorry I pulled you for Alpha team, though I only did it because you're small. We might let you join permanently at some point. You have things to learn first, though. I'll tell you where Murk's room is and you can go find him. If you tell him I sent you, he'll teach you to move more quietly."

Cool. "Thanks," Jazz said.

Midnight quirked an optic ridge. "Cheerful much?"

"Most of the time," Jazz said.

"Another thing, you need to find a way to hide that brand on your faceplate. You can't go out in public like that, at least not in the on-cycle. Get some sort of mask or visor or something."

Jazz nodded. He wasn't really sure where he could get something like that if he couldn't leave base. Maybe he'd ask Branchbinder about it.

Midngiht gave Jazz directions to get to Murk's room, and then got up and walked away. She got some energon and crossed the room to sit at a different empty table.

Fine then.

Jazz went to go find Murk.

Quantum headquarters was hexagonal, like the school in Kalis, so sometimes it brought him back to when he'd been hanging out with Verdict and Motormaster. If he'd known then that he'd never be able to escape this sort of thing, maybe he would have mustered the courage to stand up to them. He hadn't really wanted to help them take down Searchlight and Soundwave. Granted it had been fun, especially in the beginning, right when they'd started to fight back. But by the end, he'd just wanted it to be over.

He got to the door Midnight's directions had led him to, and hit the entry request button. Then he waited. After a few astroseconds, the femme, Swallow, from the off-cycle before opened it.

"Yeah?" she said, looking annoyed.

"Hey… Midnight sent me here. She wanted me ta talk ta Murk."

"Oh," Swallow said. "Ok, wait here a moment." She shut the door. Jazz glanced around the hallway, identifying a camera in the corner. It actually would be good, he thought, to have some sort of visor. Then no one would know where he was looking.

The door opened again and Murk came out. "Yeah?" he said, glaring.

"Hey, mech," Jazz said. "Midnight sent me. She said ya could teach me ta move silently."

"Huh…" Murk said. "She must have taken a liking to you, seventeener."

Jazz smiled slightly at the reference to his home sector. "I guess."

"Well, I was recharging, mech, so you know… some other time, ok?"

Jazz nodded.

"Maybe next orn or something. Do I have your comm?" Murk asked.

"Don't think so."

They exchanged contact information and Jazz left. He went back to the lounge and made some more acquaintances. By the time Branchbinder commed him and ordered him to come so they could train, Jazz knew more than a hundred mecha and would probably be able to pick most of them out in a crowd.


Over the next several orns, Jazz fell into a pattern as he made friends, and trained with Branchbinder and Murk. Neither of them were very patient teachers, but Jazz was progressing. He practiced moving quietly all the time—in the lounge, walking back to his room, and even when he was with Branchbinder.

Branchbinder, he noticed, moved so quietly you couldn't ever hear his pedes on the ground most of the time.

Training with him was very unpredictable. Sometimes the mech would just feed him information about Quantum and quiz him on who he knew and what teams they were on. Sometimes he would train him how to fight. That wasn't nearly as fun, but desperation made Jazz a fast learner.

He found that it was kind of a fun game in a way. The things he was learning how to do—talking to mecha and putting them at ease before drawing out information from them, moving silently, fighting, and everything else. But there was always that longing anxiety too. He needed to leave. This wasn't his scene, not really, and he didn't want to be here.

So he worked hard, not only because he wanted the skills he was developing, but because he wanted to use them to escape before it was too late.

They paid him, and he was able to order a visor and pay Lilac to install it. By that point he was kind of sick of seeing the word written across his faceplate every time he looked at anything reflective, so he was glad to be able to conceal it. The visor looked good too, and it made lying easier.

It wasn't too long before Midnight brought him on another mission. This time, they were doing another supply run, though it wasn't energon they were going to be stealing, and Jazz was on Beta team.

"Hey," Stonethrow said when Jazz showed up. "What's up?"

"Not much."

"Nice visor."

"Thanks, mech."

"Covers up your brand."

"Yeah," Jazz said. "That's the idea. How are ya?"

"This is great!" Stonethrow said. "I've been on a bunch of missions already. The only really rusty thing about it is that I have to go get a normal job too."

Jazz nodded. Most of the mecha in Quantum got to leave—got to live lives outside of this place. Jazz wasn't so lucky.

"But this is still exciting."

"Ya've been on a bunch of missions?"

"Yeah," Stonethrow said. "It's super fun."

"Shut up," one of the other mecha said.

Stonethrow shut his lip plates.

Telling Stonethrow to shut up was usually akin to pouring oil on open flames. The fact that he had actually listened was almost worrying.

Then again, the real world was a different sort of place.

Stonethrow didn't stay quiet though. He started chatting again within a breem and then Midnight and a few others showed up.

"Ok," she said. "This orn, we're going to the south forge. They've got a new shipment of raw durusium and we're going to take as much as we can."

"What would we do with that?" Jazz wondered out loud.

Midnight shot him an unfriendly look. "You aren't here to ask irrelevant questions. Beta team, there'll be a way in coming up from the lower levels. Just wait for our signal. We've been in this one before, so we've got the blueprints already."

A file came through his comm and he opened it. The building seemed larger and more fortified than the energon refinery.

"We don't need to be sneaky this time," Midnight said. "You see guards, you take them out, got it?"

There was a general nodding.

"Ok, break."

Jazz went with the larger group, watching carefully for other mecha on the streets. It would be best if no one noticed them—they made a suspicious-looking group.

He trailed near the back end, trying to move quietly. It was hard to tell if he was succeeding, though, because there were too many other mecha making noise. They went down some stairs, to a lower level of the city.

Durusium was an alloy that was difficult to manufacture. It was used mostly to make weapons—blades specifically. Quantum couldn't use the raw material, but maybe they were going to sell it?

They'd have to be careful in any case—if the alarms went off, they could get trapped in there.

They reached their entry point—a small access door that was locked and monitored by a camera.

And now they needed to wait for Swallow to hack the security system so they could get in through the door.

Astroseconds ticked by, turning into breems. They waited.

And then finally, Midnight's voice came over the open comm. channel. "Ok, the camera's out. We thought we were going to be able to unlock your door from here, but turns out we can't. You'll have to hack the lock or bust it open yourselves. But hurry, or we might not have much time."

"Jazz can hack the lock," Stonethrow said.

Oh pit.

Midnight was silent for a moment. "Can you?"

"Maybe," Jazz said.

"Well, do it if you can," Midnight said. "We don't have time."

Jazz's spark sank as he approached the door. He'd told her he couldn't hack, and now she'd know he was lying. He made sure to take about twice as long as he needed to get it open.

They filed in and he fell back to walk next to Stonethrow, who seemed to sense his mood.

"Did you not want me to say that?" he wondered.

"Doesn't matter," Jazz said.

"Why do you have to be mad at me? I just said…"

"Shut up!" one of the others hissed.

They were quieter now they were inside and there was a reason for everyone to try to sneak, but they were still making more noise than was optimal. Jazz really hoped they didn't run into any guards. As far as he knew, they weren't going to blow this place up, so if they didn't meet any guards, no one would have to offline.

Eventually, they met up with Alpha team—minus Murk who was probably in the building's security room. Midnight led them to the storage vault where they were keeping the durusium. Swallow went over to the big, reinforced-looking door. They waited while she messed with the controls and then inserted a small data chip into a port.

There was a ping and the door opened slightly.

"Hey, you've got some guards coming," Murk's voice came over the comm. channel. "Other end of the hall, so if they see you, they'll have time to call for help."

"Get in the vault, or hide," Midnight said.

Jazz ducked behind a stack of boxes while those closest to the big doors slipped in. Jazz saw Stonethrow across the hall, behind a pillar, and Midnight came and crouched next to Jazz. It was a good position. The guards could walk right past them without seeing them, provided they stayed still and quiet.

A few astroseconds later, Jazz saw light moving and assumed the guards had come around the corner. He focused on keeping his engine and vents running low and quiet. He couldn't hear Midnight at all, and she was still as a statue.

The guards approached. Jazz could hear their pedes on the metal floor.

They walked past. Jazz saw out of the corner of his optic as Stonethrow turned his helm to watch as they went past him.

One of them stopped, probably sensing the motion. "Hey!"

"Oh, hi…" Stonethrow stood. "Uh… what's up, mechs?"

They seemed surprised for an instant, and then suddenly Midnight crashed into one of them, knocking him into Stonethrow. Jazz watched, shocked, as she yanked an energon-dripping knife from the guard's back and threw herself at the second guard. He raised an arm to block, but she got him with a knife in her other hand. He cried out and fell. By the time he hit the ground, she had slammed the first knife into is spark chamber, through the front, and the second knife into his neck, cutting off his scream.

The first guard slid to the ground, leaving Stonethrow standing against the wall.

Midnight turned on him. He yelped as she shoved him backward and buried one of her knives in the wall right next to his helm.

"Next time I'll kill you too," she said softly. "When you're hiding, don't move, frag it!"

Stonethrow shuttered his optics.

Midnight pushed away from the wall and subspaced her knives. "Coast is clear."

The door to the storage space opened and the others filed in. Stonethrow slid to the ground and put his helm in his hands. Jazz went over and knelt by him, aware that Midnight was watching him.

"Hey, you ok?"

Stonethrow nodded and let Jazz pull him to his pedes.

"That really was stupid, though."

"I know."

"Come on."

They went into the storage unit, which was full of durusium. Midnight counted it and had everyone load as much as they could into subspace, and then they split up again to head back out. Beta team ran into some more guards, and once again someone killed them. The alarms went off just as they were exiting the building, and they all transformed and sped through the lower streets for a few blocks before slowing down.

Jazz wondered if Alpha team had gotten out. The thought that they might not have made him feel sick, and the worst part was that he had just seen Midnight murder two mecha, but he was still worried about her wellbeing.

Branchbinder commed him as soon as he got back—evidence that they probably had some sort of tracker on him, or that Branchbinder had been watching the cameras for him.

"What were you doing?"

"I was on a mission with Midnight's team. Is that a problem?"

"Your attitude is a problem."

Jazz sighed.

"When you're done, come talk to me."

That was the last thing Jazz wanted to do right now.

"Ok," the mech who seemed to be in charge of Beta team this time said, "Everymech come on, we gotta dump the loot." He led the way to a small supply room, where everyone emptied all the durusium they had out of their subspace. Centrifuge counted it and then let them leave.

Jazz was heading for Branchbinder's office, but he ran into Midnight in the hall.

"You," she said. "I wanted to talk to you. Come on."

Well, Branchbinder had said when he was done. He couldn't say no to Midnight without getting in trouble. He followed her to a small room with a tidy desk and an impressive display of weapons on the wall. This must be her office.

"So," she said coldly. "You lied to me about being able to hack."

"Sorry about that," Jazz said.

Midnight frowned, crossing her arms. "Why?"

"I just…" Jazz had been thinking about what he should say to her on the way back. "I guess I was worried about ending up with some sort of desk job. I wanted ta see some action. I didn't realize ya needed hackers on missions." He wanted to tell her he wasn't very good at it, but she could go to Stonethrow who would be able to tell her the truth.

She seemed to consider his answer for an astrosecond.

"It's stupid…"

"You're right about that," she said. "If you have some skill in that regard, you should learn from Swallow as well as Murk. Murk says you're making quick progress, and I'd concur."

"Thanks."

"But lying to me makes it much less likely I'll put you on Alpha team. And I still don't know how well you can fight. We'll have to have Talon train you a little when he's doing better."

"He get hurt?"

Midnight nodded.

"Did anyone…"

"No one died this time," she said. "It doesn't matter. I'm done with you—you can go now."

Jazz nodded and turned to leave. Something hit him in the back of the helm, hard enough that he stumbled and his processor stalled. He held still, bracing himself to be hit again.

"Don't turn your back on someone who's angry with you," Midnight said. "Now get out of my office."

Jazz stood straight again and left, reaching up to feel the deep dent in the back of his helm. He headed to Branchbinder's office. The door opened as he approached.

"You're late," Branchbinder said.

"Midnight caught me in the hallway…"

"I don't really care."

"Branchbinder…?" If Jazz tried to hide this, it could be worse later.

"What?"

"I initially told Midnight I couldn't hack, but one of my friends mentioned I could while we were on the mission."

Branchbinder frowned. "Did she ask you why?"

"Yeah. I told her I was worried she'd put me at a desk job or something and..."

He scowled.

"Just thought I'd let ya know."

"She's probably still suspicious," Branchbinder said. "Oh well. What do you know about Midnight?"

He'd tried to get a little info about her. Spotlight had told him she'd been in Quantum as long as anyone could remember. "She's been here a while."

"And?"

"And she's good at what she does, and loyal, and probably pretty smart."

Branchbinder nodded. "She was sparked and raised Quantum. I don't think disloyalty occurs to her. If anyone were to find out what your true function was… it wouldn't be too bad if it was Midnight. At least, it wouldn't be too bad for Quantum. It'd definitely be a problem for you because I'd beat you within an inch of your life and lock you up for a quartex to impress upon you how important it is to keep your cover. So it's a good thing you didn't tell her."

Jazz looked down slightly.

"So, this orn is when it gets real," Branchbinder said. "You need to stop messing around and start doing your job. Have you identified anyone who seems to have feelings against Quantum, or who may be working for someone else?"

"Well… not really, not more than normal griping."

"What are you doing all that time you're in the lounge."

"Making friends?"

Branchbinder glared at him.

"That's what ya told me ta do."

"Are you trying to make me angry?"

Jazz sighed, and put a hand to his still-throbbing helm. "Sorry. I know ya don't really care if I make friends. But I haven't seen anything suspicious yet." The twins had seemed unhappy about being in Quantum, but Jazz didn't want to draw Branchbinder's attention to them.

"Well, we know we do have discontents and double-agents. We even have the occasional deserter."

Jazz took in a deep vent and let it out slowly.

"And it's your job to find them, so you'd better start doing that. I'll give you some tips, some things to look for."

Jazz nodded.

"I'm going to give you one decaorn to find a traitor."

He froze.

"Find a traitor, procure proof, and bring that information to me. Time starts now."

"Wait…"

"Don't talk back to me," Branchbinder said. "Figure it out. You're supposed to be some sort of genius and I want you taking your work seriously."

One decaorn.

"I don't have time to teach you anything now, but I wrote you a list of clues to look for and I've sent it to your datapad along with some files about mecha who've betrayed us in the past. Do your homework and then go back to the lounge and find us a traitor… Well? Got a problem with that, mechling?"

"Nope," Jazz said.

"Good."

Jazz almost turned to leave, but stopped. Midnight's words rang in his audios. Don't turn your back on someone who's angry at you.

"Did I say you could go?" Branchbinder asked.

"Ya need anything else?"

"You were late." Branchbinder got up.

Jazz took an involuntary half step away from him.

The other mech smirked and crossed his arms. "You can go," he said. "I want to see you in the big storage room next orn at five joors for sparring practice. And believe me, if you're late for that, you'll regret it.

Jazz left, making sure never to fully turn his back on the other mech as he went. Not that he thought Branchbinder would attack him from behind, but it was a good principle to live by.

He made it to his room and shut and locked the door. There were probably cameras in here. He had access to most of the ones on the base by now, but not all of them.

He sat on the berth and put his helm in his hands anyway, not caring if anyone saw. He'd watched mecha offline this orn, and his helm felt like it was going to fall off, and he had a decaorn to find a traitor and it was already late in the off-cycle. Five joors next orn was not very far away.

He should have said no back when they'd been invited to join, and if he could go back, he'd change his answer. Now he was stuck. He was too scared of Branchbinder to try to escape.

He had brought this on himself, and for now, he would have to live with it. Vibes had always told him that sometimes you couldn't pick your current situation, but you could choose your attitude about it. He was pretty sure she wasn't' talking about this sort of thing, but he wanted to stop being scared and miserable. He was getting out of here. He would find a way. He took a deep vent and let it out slowly.

If he didn't find a traitor within a decaorn, he was going to be in a lot of trouble, and in this place that usually equated to a lot of pain. He got out his datapad. Sure enough, Branchbinder had sent him two files. He hated reading long lists of things—he wished the mech would have talked to him instead.

Oh well. He lay on his berth and skimmed through the information. The files about the traitors were much more interesting than the list of things to look for. But he couldn't read it for long, because he started seeing behind the words. Some of these mecha had probably been good mecha. He got to a file about an undercover enforcer who'd joined to gather information and possibly try to bring down the organization. Jazz read through his list of goals, and things he'd managed to leak back to enforcement. He didn't want to wonder how Quantum had acquired that list.

He shut the datapad off, trying to tell himself it didn't matter. He wouldn't find that kind of traitor. He'd find a real traitor, someone who wasn't trying to do the right thing, who was only helping himself.

He turned his datapad back on and kept reading, letting his processor wander as his optics skimmed the words, until he wasn't paying attention to what was in the file at all. After a few breems, he had an idea.