Jazz sat in the lounge, watching as he worked. He left his visor up because he liked the way the glowing brand looked in the darkness. He had a datapad out, and was working on a difficult project Hegemony had given him, but he was also keeping track of who was here, who talked to who, and how long each mech or femme stayed.

Sideswipe came in and sat down halfway across the room at an empty table. The twins were definitely on the list he was compiling of mecha who might want to leave. Jazz had been meaning to talk to them.

Not now, though. Sunstreaker wasn't with him, for one thing, and for another you really couldn't talk openly about things in the lounge. There were too many audios.

He kept working, thinking, planning. He didn't want to make his first move until he knew everything was in place, and besides, if he started sneaking mecha out too soon it would be suspicious. He still hadn't made any allies yet.

Despite his initial confidence, he'd come to realize this was going to be much more difficult than breaking mecha out of jail.

They hadn't given him back his datapad. Instead, they'd given him a new one with all sorts of restrictions on it. Getting past those without letting them know what he was doing was proving difficult, but he would manage it eventually.

Sideswipe didn't leave. Once in a while someone would go try and talk to him, but they'd leave again after a breem or less. And in between that, Sideswipe just sat at his table—he didn't even have a cube of eneron or anything.

After a couple of joors, Jazz got worried and did some quick research. Apparently, Sunstreaker had been locked up for insubordination of some sort.

Well, it could be worse… that must really rust for Sideswipe though. The records weren't very specific, but whatever it was, it had happened the orn before. Jazz had never seen the two of them away from each other for more than a few joors at a time.

He waited a little longer, weighing the consequences of being seen talking to someone who might be deserting soon against the opportunity to try and cheer his friend up. Then he got up and went to sit across from the red mech. Up close, Jazz could see Sideswipe was covered in scrapes and dents, some of which looked deep and painful.

"Hey, mech," he said.

Sideswipe nodded, but didn't say anything. His optics were dull and he seemed a little dazed.

"Where's Sunstreaker?"

"Locked up somewhere," Sideswipe said. "What do you want?"

"Just thought I'd come say hi," Jazz said. "What happened? Ya should got see Lilac."

Sideswipe didn't react, just looked down at his arm on the table.

"Sides, mech, you've been sitting here for joors. What's going on?"

"Why do you care?"

"We're friends, right?"

"No," Sideswipe finally looked up at him.

Jazz couldn't meet his gaze for long before looking away and letting his visor slide down to cover his optics.

Sideswipe sighed. "It's not that complicated," he said. "I got in trouble. Sunny wouldn't let them punish me for it, so they about killed him and then locked him up to heal on his own. You know, average every-orn stuff." Sideswipe winced.

"Yeah," Jazz said.

"Of course, some orns it's us beating other mecha up… I don't know, Jazz, sorry I said we aren't friends. I'm just…"

"It's ok."

"You know… I don't know what I wanted to do with my life, but whatever it was, this wasn't it."

Pit no, don't say that right now. "Talk like that'll get ya unwanted attention."

"Yeah," Sideswipe said. "Sunny's always saying that. But…" he glanced around. "I'm not worried about you hearing."

This was not the right place to have this conversation.

"Jazz."

"Hmm?"

"I don't know if… never mind," Sideswipe rubbed a deep scratch on his arm and shuttered his optics.

"Ya should go see Lilac."

"I can't."

He probably didn't feel right getting medical attention when Sunstreaker was locked up somewhere, badly injured.

"Ya should," Jazz insisted, getting up from the table. "She might be able ta help somehow."

He turned and walked away. Yes, the twins were first on his list. He'd get them out of here, even if he didn't manage to help anyone else leave. He owed it to them.


Jazz hacked the camera in his room and started feeding it false data, then got up and turned the lights on. It was the middle of the off-cycle, but that didn't mean they weren't watching the cameras. He pulled a small mirror out of subspace and propped it up in the corner between the desk and the wall. Then he retracted his visor. His optics stared back at him, cold and determined. He reached up to trace the word written across his faceplate. He'd hacked into Lilac's records and knew exactly where the tracker was—in a section of the first letter of the brand. It was rigged though, and would alert them if he removed it or tampered with it. It was welded both to the brand and his faceplate, so he couldn't just pry the brand off.

But since he knew that, he could work around it, and since he had a visor, no one would notice.

He pulled out a long, slim knife and took in a deep vent. If he could get access to the system that monitored the trackers, there would be other ways to do this, but he hadn't been able to do that. He was pretty sure only Hegemony had complete access to them. Probably only a few of the highest ranking mecha even knew the trackers existed, excluding Lilac, of course. Jazz had figured out how to detect them, and he could access their location, but he couldn't disable them.

He shuttered his optics for a moment and forced his pain receptors down as low as he could get them, telling himself it wouldn't be that bad. Then he un-shuttered his optics again and watched in the mirror as he set the tip of the knife on the brand and pushed it in. Fire blossomed across his faceplate, but he just braced himself against the pain and focused. He pulled the knife out and turned it ninety degrees before pushing it back in.

Pit, that hurt. He pulled the now energon-streaked knife out and held it in one hand. Two more. He couldn't back out now, he was halfway there. He gritted his denta and cut again. The last cut completed the square, but he still had to stick the knife back in to pry the piece out, which hurt more than the rest combined.

The chunk of energon-covered metal flew out and he dropped his knife as it plinked onto the desk. Then he leaned forward, gripping the edge of the desk, optics shuttered, waiting in silence for the pain to retreat. After he took a few deep vents, he sat up and looked in the mirror again. Energon ran in a little stream down his faceplate, originating from the roughly square-shaped hole in the first letter of the brand.

Now he had to see if it had worked. He got his datapad out and accessed the tracker database and found his tracker. Then he left his room, and crept around headquarters. The tracker said he was still in his room. Perfect. He'd keep it with him during the on-cycle and whenever he was around other mecha. But he could go places without anyone knowing now. He wasn't worried about anyone seeing him on the cameras, of course. He practically owned the cameras at this point.

Well, that was part one of his plans for the off-cycle. Part two was a little more risky, but he was almost certain that it was the right move.

Hegemony's third in command, Lithium, had avoided every attempt Jazz had made to talk to him, but Jazz had done a lot of research on the mech, and he was pretty sure he would be willing to help him.

Jazz crept through the base. Lithium also lived at headquarters, and was currently recharging in his room. The lights were off, which was convenient. Jazz replaced that camera feed with a loop and did a similar thing with the microphone connected to the camera.

Then he broke into the room. Lithium didn't come online as Jazz slipped in and closed the door behind himself so Jazz sat at his desk, then reached over and turned the lights on.

The mech twitched, and Jazz waited as his systems booted up and his optics lit.

Lithium sat up. "What…. What's going on? Who… you…"

"Hey," Jazz said, then flinched as the motion agitated the new hole in his faceplate. "So… ya know what ya said ta me, last time we talked?"

"What the frag are you doing here?" Lithium growled. "Get out of my room!"

"Keep it down, mech, someone out in the halls might hear."

"What do you want?"

"Calm down," Jazz said. "And don't worry, I took care of the cameras so this is a private conversation." He really should have thought this through better. Every time he spoke, it felt like someone was sticking a knife into his faceplate.

Lithium put a hand to his helm. "Primus…" he said, then looked at Jazz again. "What did you say?"

"I said I took care of the cameras. Take your time coming online, ok? Sorry I had ta do this in the middle of the off-cycle, but ya were avoiding me." Maybe he should have waited to come have this conversation after his faceplate had healed a little, but it was too late now.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Lithium said. "Get out of my room before I comm. someone to come and forcibly remove you."

"I want ya ta remember something," Jazz said, trying to focus on the conversation and ignore the pain. This was very important. "Something ya said ta me last time we talked."

"I have never talked to you before."

"Yeah ya did," Jazz said. "Ya caught me recharging in a hallway. I told ya I hadn't meant ta end up in Quantum, and ya said there wasn't a way out."

Lithium glared at him.

"Well," Jazz said. "Ya were right. There isn't a way out, not currently. But… but there could be."

"Look," Lithium said. "I don't know what you're talking about, and whatever you want me to do, I won't do it."

"I can get mecha out," Jazz said. "I can get you out if ya want."

"No," Lithium said. "You haven't thought this through very well. I know exactly what your job is. In case you've forgotten, I happen to be one of Hegemony's closest advisors. I know who you are, Jazz, and what you want."

"Do ya?" Jazz asked. "I've thought this through better than ya know. And I swear nothing ya say in this room right now will make it ta Hegemony's audios. Look…" Jazz raised his visor so the other mech could see his faceplate. "…I'm serious about this leaving thing. I know what it's like ta be trapped here and ta hate it. I think you know what it's like too… I think a lot of mecha know what that's like. And, well, I managed ta break a whole group of mecha out of a detention center without much trouble, so I figured I'd give this a try."

Lithium stared at him, then swung his legs over the side of the berth and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of them.

"Mech?"

"Hush," Lithium said.

Jazz waited for half a breem before speaking again. "My tracker's back in my room. They think I'm recharging. No one knows I'm here. I've turned off the camera and the audio from this room, as well as mine, and I'm pretty sure no one saw me crossing headquarters. I can stick the tracker back in, though, during the on-cycle. I can hack inta just about anything. I can do this."

"So what exactly do you need me for?"

"Three things," Jazz said. "First, ya're powerful. Ya have knowledge and access ta things that even I don't. Second, mecha trust you. Mecha know that you're not like the others—that you still have a spark. Spotlight knows, Resin knows…"

"And?" Lithium asked.

"And if I came ta them and said 'hey, ya want out?' they'd be real suspicious. But if you talked ta them…"

"I see," Lithium muttered.

"Also," Jazz said. "Well… I think after a while, Hegemony's gonna figure it out—that someone's setting his mecha loose."

"Hmm."

"Yeah, and I'm gonna need someone ta take the blame so I can stay here and keep doing it when new mecha come in. So… we frame you, then I get you out too. Ya… Ya do want ta leave, right?" Jazz resisted the temptation to reach up and touch the wound on his faceplate. It hurt like pit.

Lithium sighed and shook his helm. "I can't tell if you're being honest. And there's no way on Cybertron that I'd ever give you a list of mecha who I think might like to desert."

"Ya think they'd tell me about the tracker?" Jazz said. "Just so I could pretend ta come here and ask ya ta do this? Ya think Hegemony trusts me more than he trusts you?"

Lithium seemed to consider that.

"Look, I got a couple of friends here who need ta get out of this place. I'd like ta try breaking them out first. But… even if that goes well, I only have guesses about other mecha. That ain't what I look for when I'm looking for traitors. If discontentment was what I was looking for, I would have had ta put myself on the list."

"Let's say…" Lithium said. "Let's say you're telling the truth, and let's say you can break mecha out, where do they go? Even without the trackers, Quantum will hunt for them, and they'll never really be safe."

"There are ways ta hide," Jazz said. "Ways ta start new lives. I can help with that too."

"And you… you want me to be a scapegoat. You want me to pretend I'm the one breaking everyone out and then you want me to leave."

"Well, do ya want ta leave?"

"Do you realize I could take this conversation to Hegemony. He would believe me before he'd believe you. Do you know what would happen to you if I did that?"

"Yeah," Jazz said. "I know what happens ta traitors, mech. But I figured—"

"Coming to me is a huge risk," Lithium said. "Even if I was interested in this project, I'd never agree to it. I can't trust someone who's so careless. If you'll gamble with your own life like that, you'll gamble with everyone else's. You'll get mecha killed."

"This life is hazardous," Jazz said. "Just being in Quantum is hazardous. We offline all the time. The difference is we offline doing things that are wrong. I want ta give mecha a chance ta leave that—at least the crime part. I ain't gonna force anyone, but I'm gonna give them the option. And if ya won't help me, then I'll do it on my own, and it'll be even riskier."

Lithium shook his helm. "No," he said. "I can't. I'm sorry, but I can't. That is final, and if you don't leave my room immediately, I'll tell Hegemony you've removed your tracker."

"Fair enough," Jazz said. "Think about it, though. I'll see ya around, mech."

Jazz reached over and turned the lights off, then let his visor slide down to cover his faceplate before slipping out of the room.

Well, that might have been a waste of time.

Jazz headed back to his own room and shut the door . He sat at his desk, and raised his visor, venting deeply. His faceplate hurt so much it was giving him a processor ache. It felt like someone had stuck his entire helm in a smelting pit.

After a breem, he got out the little mirror he'd been using before. There was a solid streak of drying energon down his face, and it had dripped off his chin as well. He got out a mesh rag and some solvent and carefully cleaned it off, then wiped down the little piece attached to the tracker as well.

He gritted his denta and slid it back into its spot. It stayed fairly well, but he'd probably want to put something adhesive on it to keep it in in the future. And he'd need to remove and replace it frequently or it might heal back into the rest of his faceplate.

After a breem or so, he lay down on his berth, but the pain kept him online for more than a joor, and by then he didn't have much of the off-cycle left to recharge.


Jazz waited anxiously for them to let Sunstreaker out so that he could talk to the twins. It took a couple of orns, by the end of which Jazz was starting to worry about Sideswipe a little.

But eventually, they did let Sunstreaker go.

That off-cycle, Jazz took his tracker out and set it on his desk before leaving headquarters. He made his way through Polyhex to the little apartment where the twins lived. He didn't bother knocking, not wanting to risk alerting any of their neighbors. It would be best if no one else found out he'd been here.

As he'd anticipated, half of the two-room apartment was messy, and the other half was obsessively neat. He walked silently into the room where they were recharging. He needed to wake them up without freaking them out. He tapped a pede on the floor, thinking.

Sunstreaker's optics lit up.

"Oh, hey mech," Jazz whispered.

Sunstreaker turned to look at him and pulled a long knife out of subspace, narrowing his optics. Even lying down, he was intimidating.

"It's ok," Jazz said calmly.

Sideswipe moaned from his berth on the other side of the room. "Sunny, frag it, stop waking me up every single time an alt mode goes past…"

"Don't move," Sunstreaker said.

"Hey!" Sideswipe sat up. "Who the pit…"

"What do you want?" Sunstreaker asked, slowly sitting up as well.

"I wanna talk," Jazz said.

"Jazz?" Sideswipe said.

"Yep," Jazz sat down on the ground. "I got a question for the two of ya. Of course, ya're only gonna answer truthfully if ya trust me, and I wouldn't blame ya if ya don't."

Silence stretched out for a few astroseconds.

"What's the question?" Sideswipe asked.

"If ya could leave Quantum… if ya could leave and get away with it, and not have ta worry about anymech coming after ya, would ya?"

Both pairs of glowing yellow optics stared at him.

Sideswipe started to say something, but Sunstreaker cut him off. "Why would you ask something like that?"

"Cuz the reason we all got tangled up in this mess is…" Jazz took a deep vent. "Branchbinder wanted me, not any of the rest of ya. And I feel bad that the two of ya got dragged along. I can help ya get out. I can help ya leave, find a new life… but only if ya trust me."

"Which we shouldn't," Sunstreaker said. "What did Branchbinder want you for? To take over from him? Wasn't his job catching traitors and deserters?"

Jazz nodded. "Puts me in a good position ta help traitors and deserters if I want."

"You wouldn't put your own safety on the line to help us," Sunstreaker said. "And we aren't leaving. We're fine where we are. Get out."

Jazz looked down.

"Give him some credit," Sideswipe said. "We've been friends for vorns."

"We aren't the same mecha we were when we were friends," Sunstreaker said. "We don't want your help."

Jazz nodded and stood. "I thought this might go this way, and I'm sorry I don't have your trust. I just don't want ta see ya offline cuz of me, like Stones did."

He was surprised at the emotion that accompanied actually putting that to words. It was his fault Stonethrow was dead—his fault in so many ways.

"I think we can trust him," Sideswipe said.

Jazz hesitated.

"Why would he be doing this otherwise? Think about it. If he went and asked other mecha this stuff, wouldn't there be rumors about it? In any case, this place is pit, so if there's a way to get out…"

"Sides."

"And don't say we're fine here," Sideswipe said. "If you're going to pull stunts like what you did half a decaorn ago, we can't stay here."

"That was—"

"No," Sideswipe said. "I might have ended up with a couple more dents, but we'd have been fine. Instead you had to get involved and we ended up separated for four orns."

Sunstreaker sighed.

"In any case," Sideswipe said. "Are you sure you can get us out?"

"Pretty sure," Jazz said. "It won't be right away. I was seen talking to ya just a few orns ago. And I need ta plan a good time. Sunny's right, I'm putting myself in a difficult position if I help ya leave. So I gotta make it impossible for them ta figure out that I was involved, which'll be hard, cuz it's common knowledge we know each other."

"What if we don't want to leave?" Sunstreaker said.

"Stop playing, mech," Jazz said. "I know ya hate it here."

"If there's a chance this could work…" Sideswipe said. "Come on, Sunny."

It was hard to read his expression in the dark, but Sunstreaker seemed to be at least considering it.

"All right," he said at length. "What do you want us to do?"

"Play it cool for now," Jazz said. I wanted ta make sure ya were on board before I came up with a solid plan. I'll be back ta talk to ya another off-cycle, ok?"

They nodded.

"Take care of yourselves until then, ok?" Jazz said, and then left, locking their apartment behind himself and starting back toward headquarters.

He could leave whenever he wanted now. He could run away…

Or he could stay and make trouble.

That second option sounded like a lot more fun.