So I got TF Animated season one on DVD the other day, and just let me say… I officially love it. I still like Prowl, but now Blitzwing is making his way up the list. C'mon, the guy's got three faces, one of which is completely psycho and all having a German accent. What isn't to love? Plus the storyline allows for actual character depth, which I wasn't expecting, and it's decently funny. And once you get used to it the art style's not all that bad.

Anyways, enjoy the latest chapter. I finally put it up after three days of going over and over the part with Prime. I'm still not entirely happy with it, but oh well. And the part where Astrotrain makes his grand entrance was actually written around the same time as chapter two; it's just been sitting around my hard drive waiting for this chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own, so you don't sue.

--

"… Jazz? Jazz!"

"Buh wha?" He sat upright too fast and nailed his head on- something. The pain jarred him and chased away the fuzziness that had clouded his mind. "What happened?"

"You were asleep," said a voice that seemed distantly familiar. Jazz peered at the face outside the open window, trying to place it. The human seemed to realize the problem and smiled at him. "I'm Captain Lennox. Remember me?"

"Kinda," the saboteur muttered. "Where am I?"

"The Autobot base," the captain answered as he stepped away. The car door Jazz had been leaning against swung open and the saboteur managed a controlled fall out. He groaned as his muscles locked up and loudly protested the position he'd forced them into.

"They let me sleep there?" he asked as he looked at his previous resting place. Bumblebee had to be the most patient mech in the history of Cybertron, he thought wryly. None of the others would have tolerated him snoozing on their passenger seat.

"From what I heard they didn't let you so much as they had to. According to Sam you were very unkind to him when he and Bee tried to get you out." Lennox was still smiling at him, clearly amused by the entire thing. Jazz ducked his head- sometime during his restless night the hair tie had surrendered to the inevitable and his hair was hanging freely. He dragged a hand through the tousled mess and pushed it out of his face.

"How'd Sam get t' school?" He glanced again at Bumblebee and grimaced. There was no point in trying to talk to the scout; he was in deep recharge.

"Ironhide took him," Lennox answered.

"Oh yeah, 'cause nothin' can go wrong there," Jazz murmured. The captain snorted.

"Well, he wasn't exactly happy, but the other options were either emergency vehicles or Lamborghinis."

Jazz grinned as he pictured that. From ratty thirty-odd-year-old clunker to snazzy new Camaro to sleek newer-than-new Lamborghini. It was a pity he hadn't taken one of the twins; Sideswipe would know to record the kids' various reactions.

"Here," Lennox said abruptly, and Jazz turned in time to catch a plastic bag tossed towards him. Stuffed into it was a change of clothes, a bottle of water, and an orange. "Compliments of my wife. She really wants to meet you, by the way."

"She does, huh?" Jazz pulled out the water and took a sip.

"Yes. All the experience of talking to a giant alien robot with none of the risk." Lennox took the bottle as Jazz tried to juggle it and the bag while pulling out the clean clothes.

"What, is she afraid someone's gonna step on her?" he asked incredulously.

"Not her," the captain answered grimly. Jazz stared blankly him. "Our daughter. She won't even let Ironhide transform near our house. I don't think she's seen any of them out of car form."

Jazz tried not to think about how that blanket statement shouldn't have excluded himself and instead looked around, searching for a bathroom. The building they were in was large; at a casual guess it had once been a warehouse. He doubted it had been originally intended as anything more than storage but it converted well. Except for the dim lights and the cement floor, it had been expertly adapted to the Autobots' needs. Lennox pointed him towards a bathroom and Jazz wandered in, watching as his reflection flickered in time with the dying light bulb.

Twenty minutes later he was in clothes that fit much better, with hair that had been more or less brushed out and given a quick rinse under the faucet, and was feeling better about life in general. The orange had taken a little creativity to figure out, but he had managed, and so he was feeling content with the world. He had no right to complain about anything, really, as he should be dead.

Lennox was waiting near Bumblebee. Next to him was Ratchet.

"Take your time," the medic snapped as Jazz shut the door behind him. The human tilted his head and grinned at the 'bot.

"Thanks, Ratch. I think I will." And he turned around, as if to go back in. The medic gave a harsh buzzing noise and took a single step forward. Jazz stopped moving and stood still, feeling that odd tingling indicative of a scan.

"Interesting," Ratchet mused. "Your spark seems to have adjusted to the human body perfectly. As though it were made for this purpose."

"I think it was," Jazz said slowly. "Something… someone… had to make this happen, an' it wasn't me."

Ratchet didn't react immediately. After a few seconds of staring into nothing he shook his head and turned to Jazz. "I think you're best off talking to Prime," he said finally.

So Jazz followed the medic down the hallway, glancing back to confirm Lennox was also coming. He had to steel himself for this encounter- Prime would in no way hold this against him, but for some reason the thought of his leader and longtime friend seeing him like this was upsetting.

Before he could truly prepare himself they were in the main room and there was Prime. The mech looked strong and powerful and just so in-control and composed that Jazz's tension simply vanished. Even though Prime was no more able to control the workings of the universe than Jazz, he gave the impression that he could handle anything. He had a calming effect that Jazz desperately appreciated. When the small group entered the big 'bot turned to face them and the saboteur was thankful for the sunglasses that hid his eyes- and anything they might have shown.

"Jazz," Prime said softly, and that single word was loaded with more emotions than could be named. Jazz grinned and jerked his chin up.

"Hey, Optimus. Didn't think you were gonna be gettin' rid of me that easy, did ya?" And just like that, it was as though nothing had changed. Prime shook his head and turned away in mock exasperation and Jazz smiled, mostly to himself. He couldn't have handled it if the big guy had apologized or said something stupid like that.

"I'm glad you're back, Jazz," Prime said as soon as he'd collected himself. "It's not quite the same without you."

"Oh, sure. Y'got th' twins now; they should make up for me." He laughed at Prime's momentary alarm. "Or not. Got a few questions for you, though."

"As do I," Prime stepped back as Jazz wandered over to the human-sized living room someone had set up in the corner.

Jazz had decided to not bother tip-toeing around and stared up at his friend as he considered how to phrase his question as bluntly as possible. "So I'm gonna guess you didn't know Primus has been talkin' to us?"

"What?" Ratchet blurted from behind Prime. They both stared down at him incredulously. "Jazz, Primus is… I won't say he doesn't exist, but if he does, he's not in any big hurry to let us know about it. He's certainly not-" He stopped himself, clearly seeing the problem.

"Not what?" Jazz countered. "Not bringin' dead 'bots back an' turnin' 'em into humans? If it ain't him, who is it? It's not like there's tons of beings out there who could do this."

An awkward silence followed this. Finally Prime shifted, turning all attention back to him.

"We'll go with that for now," he said, clearly unhappy with the thought of a being so much more powerful than himself, one that he barely believed in , taking a personal interest in his team. "I don't really care how this happened. Do you have any idea how to change back?"

"Not a clue." Jazz shook his head. Ratchet said something in rapid-fire Cybertronian, too fast for Jazz's human ears to comprehend, and Prime responded likewise. After a few rounds of this Lennox appeared at Jazz's elbow.

"Primus being what?" he asked softly, then paused and added, "Or who?"

"Either works," the saboteur answered. "He's kinda like your God, only not nearly as hands-on, an' we don't really worship him. Most times we just acknowledge that he's out there an' he could squish us like bugs an' he's happy to stay far away. Accordin' to legend he made th' Allspark, an' that's been the extent of his interaction with us."

"So he decided to get involved now because…?"

"That's why we're havin' such a hard time acceptin' this," Jazz replied. "Maybe it's got somethin' to do with th' Allspark, though he should be mad at us for destroyin' it."

Lennox considered that. Then he shrugged. "Maybe its destruction isn't as permanent as we think," he said thoughtfully.

" 'To its creator its true powers returned'?" The saboteur grinned at the confused look his words received. "Sorry. Just quotin' a story I heard as a sparkling. It's somethin' to think about, at any rate."

"Very well," Prime abruptly reverted to English, causing the two humans to both start and peer up at him with wide eyes. "The Allspark wasn't completely destroyed. There was a piece of it left."

"Well, that's… good?" Jazz tried. Ratchet snorted.

"Sure it's good," he drawled. "If it works, it can return you to your true body. Unfortunately for you your esteemed leader went and hid it."

"It had to be protected," Prime said in his this-is-me-being-patient voice. "The humans wanted to experiment on it and I couldn't allow that. It is also possible that some Decepticons may land here and try to steal it."

"S'cool," Jazz put in quickly as Ratchet shot an irritated glare towards Prime. Clearly this was not a decision they had agreed on. "Just gotta go get it."

"It will take some time," Prime informed him grimly. The saboteur glanced at him, then back at the medic. Maybe the what hadn't annoyed Ratchet nearly as much as the where.

"How much time?" Jazz asked slowly.

"About three days," the impatient medic barked out sharply. "And no, he won't tell one of us where to find it. He has to go get it himself."

Prime didn't respond to this; he obviously hadn't expected to need the thing so soon.

"Well, better get moving then," Lennox said. "Before something goes wrong. Something will go wrong," he added to Jazz's frown. "It always does."

"Yeah, okay, thanks for that. Anyways, I'm thinkin' about headin' into town for a few hours. Wanna go?" The saboteur directed the last part to the captain, who sighed and smiled.

"I'll pass. I need to get home."

"Talk to Prowl first," Prime said. Jazz nodded and gave a cheerful little wave as he headed towards the door.

Prowl was in the rec room, which had the biggest TV Jazz had ever seen and about eight game systems. The twins were both on a Cybertronian-sized couch in front of the television, their attention focused entirely on the screen as one of them hacked and shot his way through a small herd of zombies. Briefly Jazz wondered how they had built a controller big enough for them in the time they'd been here.

"Hi Prowler!" he called out cheerfully. The tactician had been watching the twins with disapproval written clear on his faceplates; at Jazz's voice he turned.

"Hello, Jazz," he greeted as if there was nothing unusual about this situation. The saboteur gave him a long-familiar, cheeky grin.

"So I was thinkin' about headin' out t' town for a few hours," Jazz said as if continuing a conversation. "Figured I could borrow one of th' twins." Prowl glanced at him at this, trying to figure out why Jazz would volunteer for such a duty. Then he replayed the request and heard the 'one of' part.

"Which one?" He turned a curious gaze to the mechs in question, neither of which appeared to realize they were being spoken of. Jazz remedied that problem with ease.

"Hey, Sunny," he chirped. The not-so-sunny 'bot immediately spun around with a snarl, but Jazz ignored it and kept talking. "So I was gonna just hit th' store for some clothes, maybe pick up a book or somethin', possibly stop at a car wash. Ya know, kill time."

"Car wash?" Sunstreaker had gone from furious to calculating in two words. He studied the saboteur thoughtfully now.

"Yeah, car wash. Big machine you drive into an' a bunch of littler machines wash your car." He shrugged, trying to explain a car wash without mentioning the self-wash part. Knowing Sunstreaker that would be how he wanted it. "It can wax an' shine an' spot-proof too. If we go really fancy someone'll clean the interior."

The yellow twin was brightening with every word. He slid a quick glance towards his brother- checking to make sure this wasn't some joke- and turned to Prowl. Having been as neatly maneuvered by Jazz's manipulation as Sunstreaker, the tactician had no real choice but to say yes. Instead he proceeded to lay down more rules than anyone could possibly remember, and Jazz began trying to calculate how far he could stretch his money.

"And Jazz?"

"Huh?" He glanced up, trying to not look as though he'd been tuning Prowl out. Fortunately the tactician either didn't notice or didn't care.

"This is a credit card," Prowl said the last two words oddly, leaving Jazz to wonder if he even knew what it was. "Captain Lennox gave it to us. He said it should work if you just use your signature. He also said there's only five hundred dollars in the account."

"I don't plan on spendin' that much," Jazz drawled. Sunstreaker came around the couch and transformed, swinging his door open.

"I want the best," he stated in a tone that indicated he believed he deserved nothing less. "There's a deluxe wash about forty miles from here. Get in and let's go."

Jazz rolled his eyes at that, but didn't protest since he had pretty much brought this on himself. Besides, after the spit-hand from last night Sunny deserved a little pampering. The problem would come in their differing definitions of 'a little'.

And so the saboteur began his first full day as human.

--

"Hey, Jazz!"

Jazz turned, dragging a hand through his hair to keep it from getting in his eyes, and smiled. Standing near Bumblebee, who was parked next to a conspicuously Lamborghini-less spot, Mikaela was waving enthusiastically while Sam was trying to look like he didn't care that his girlfriend was hollering for another guy. A pair of girls on the corner giggled and pointed, pushing the teen to loudly say, "He's just a friend!"

"Where'd Sunny go?" Jazz asked as soon as he got close enough to talk at a civilized volume.

"He said something about not agreeing to being a pack horse and took off," Sam answered helplessly. Jazz shrugged unconcernedly- it was highly doubtful Sunstreaker would be stupid enough to transform without dumping out the bags of stuff Jazz had bought. Then the saboteur turned a brilliant smile on Mikaela, who had been frowning as she studied the former 'bot.

"Nice t' finally meet you," he said, and she smiled in return. Sam looked at one, then the other, then subtly stepped between them.

"So we're here because Mikaela wanted to meet you," he said. "And I guess we're giving you a ride back to the base cause Sunstreaker took off…"

"How were your parents when you got home?" Jazz asked.

"I don't know what Optimus told them," the teen answered, still sounding shocked by his lack of punishment, "but they didn't say anything. I think they thought I was at a field trip for school or something." Then he gave an odd spasm and pulled away from Bumblebee, who he had been leaning against. Jazz saw that the scout had nudged his door open just enough to startle the teen.

A second later Sam's cell phone whistled an odd tune and the boy pulled it out.

"Bee thinks we should leave," he said quietly. "Prowl says he wants us back at base, now."

The emphasis on the now worried Jazz. He scowled as he considered the Camaro.

"Did he say why?"

"No," Sam replied. He held his door open and Jazz abruptly realized that there only two doors. He clambered in and somehow managed to slip into the backseat, which was clearly far more ornamental than functional.

After ten minutes on the highway they pulled off, following a side road down to an abandoned building. The parking lot was unpaved and the entire place was encircled by trees, and Jazz couldn't help the immediate sense of isolation.

"Now what?" Mikaela asked.

"Prowl again," Bee answered. There was a long silence from the two in the front seat.

"I think we should head back to base," Mikaela muttered after a moment. Jazz agreed with her.

"We need to do what Prowl says," Sam countered. He glanced in the mirror and met Jazz's gaze. "Isn't he some sort of genius or something?"

"Tactician," the saboteur chuckled. "An' yeah, he's pretty smart."

Silence descended again. After a moment Jazz decided he'd had enough and leaned forward.

"While we're waitin' for Prowl t' tell us what t' do, can we get out? I don't have a lot of room back here."

Sam grunted and opened his door. A moment later Jazz was stretching himself out as Mikaela came around to stand next to Sam. The saboteur leaned against Bumblebee's driver-side door and sighed. Then he paused and tilted his head to one side slightly.

"You guys hear that?" he asked finally.

"It sounds like a train," Mikaela said dismissively. Jazz frowned as he considered that, a deep-rooted feeling of unease growing as the noise continuously increased. He tapped a finger against Bumblebee's window and leaned over to address the scout.

"Your scanners pickin' anything up?" he asked softly. After a moment's silence the Camaro gave a negative chirp. The saboteur shifted uneasily as he straightened up. He had never felt more vulnerable in his life.

"It's time to go," he said finally. The humans ignored him. Jazz turned to Bumblebee, hoping his friend still listened to him. "I got a bad feelin' here, Bee. I think we need t' leave."

"It's just a train, Jazz," Mikaela snapped impatiently. Then she frowned, for the train sounded much closer now- like it was on the other side of the line of trees.

"In my world there's no such thing as just anythin'," Jazz countered grimly. He stepped aside far enough for Bee to open his doors, and the world exploded.

Trees tore up from their roots and blew outwards, towards the small group. A massive black-and-violet thing rushed past, metal shrieking and engines roaring. Jazz knew now what- who- it was and was yelling, ordering the two humans to get in so they could leave. The machine issued a sharp squealing of brakes and shuddered to a halt about fifty feet away from them.

It was indeed a train, although there was nothing 'just' about it. It was only the locomotive but it was huge, almost twice the size of normal Earth trains. Jutting out in front were two lasers that crossed each other and carved deep grooves into the ground in front, which its wheels fit into nicely.

"Upgraded," Jazz muttered as he studied this new toy. "Nice to get off the tracks, huh?"

Then Sam and Mikaela were there, scrambling to get into the Camaro, and the train started to transform.

"Go!" Sam was panicking, trying to turn himself around in the driver's seat and put on his seat belt. Mikaela practically crawled over the teen while Jazz dove into the back seat. Bumblebee's tires spun out uselessly on the gravel ground for a second, allowing the humans just enough time to see the newcomer in all his glory.

"Holy crap he's huge!" Sam yelped. Jazz grunted in agreement- the transformed train had an easy ten feet of height over Optimus Prime.

"Most triplechangers are," he answered, trying to stay calm. Bee's tires caught purchase and they burst forward, hitting pavement and darting away just as their attacker cycled out one of his cannons and took aim. "They have to be," the saboteur added, noting the identical looks of horror his first comment had earned him.

"Triplechanger?" Mikaela echoed. "Please tell me that doesn't mean what I think it does."

In answer to her question the triplechanger took one step forward and launched himself into his third form, a bulky-looking space jet. It was achingly slow and about as agile as a three-legged hippo, but it had a better vantage point than the previous train mode. Bumblebee swerved and dodged as the jet peppered the ground with random laser fire.

"He's not even trying to hit us," Sam muttered.

"No, he's not. He's tryin' to keep us away from cover," Jazz said. He nodded towards the side road Bumblebee was aiming towards, a road almost completely sheltered by overhanging trees. The jet sent another row of seemingly unpredictable shots towards them, attempting to herd them away from their goal. Bee swerved around them and gunned his engine, sliding just under the next blast and roaring down the protected road.

For a second Jazz just breathed, settling his nerves. From the moment the triplechanger had burst through the trees, the entire attack had taken approximately thirty seconds. He twisted around in his seat and scanned what few patches of the sky he could see. The bass roar of the jet's engines was as loud as ever and he caught a flash of black through the screen of branches.

Maybe not the fastest thing on wings, but clearly able to keep up with them.

"Who is that? What is that? And why didn't anyone tell us about these triplechanger things?!"

Sam's ire drew Jazz's attention and the saboteur sighed deeply.

"That is Astrotrain. He's a Decepticon."

"No shit!" Sam barked, then looked vaguely surprised at himself. Jazz ignored it.

"An' I don't know why no one told you 'bout triplechangers. I haven't been here that long, remember? Though if I had to guess I'd say there's two reasons: they knew you'd react like this, and second, there's not that many of 'em left. There weren't that many to begin with."

"Will the others be able to handle him?" Mikaela asked in concern.

"Size ain't everythin'. Astrotrain is designed as a transporter, not a fighter. Now if it were Blitzwing I'd be worried, but this guy's easy. He'll beat it soon as he sees who he's up against."

"And Blitzwing is…?"

"Another Decepticon triplechanger. Meaner and tougher than Astrotrain." Jazz leaned forward as the 'con in question began to pull ahead, no doubt trying to cut them off. "That he's here ain't a good sign, though. Accordin' to intelligence he was teamed up with Soundwave, and if he shows up we'll all be in a whole new world of hurt."

A dark silence followed this; Jazz wondered briefly if the two teens even knew why Soundwave was so dangerous, then decided against asking. Sometimes ignorance really was bliss.

And then a familiar, reassuring noise reached him and he almost cheered. A red car crested the hill and came hurtling towards them, slamming on the brakes and sliding sideways and transforming all in one easy motion. Astrotrain didn't get a single second to process this new danger- the red Autobot had already hooked an arm around the jet and swung himself easily onto the triplechanger's broad back. Exactly what Sideswipe did couldn't be seen from the humans' view point, but Astrotrain bucked and roared with pain. His engines fired up, trying to rid himself of this red menace as he twisted and pointed skyward.

Sideswipe dug in both heels and flung himself to one side, yanking the space jet off its course and sending it spiraling dangerously downwards. At the last moment the 'bot let go and dropped, landing easily in a crouch, and Astrotrain managed by some small miracle to correct himself before he ate dirt. He transformed into mech form and pulled out a nasty-looking gun.

The twin paused only long enough to glance back, checking on Bumblebee, and Jazz was once again struck by the look of unholy glee, the absolute love of fighting, that Sideswipe possessed. Then the 'bot was charging forward, heading straight towards that gun with no apparent concern for his own welfare.

"Idiot," Jazz muttered. Bumblebee obviously agreed, as all three humans found themselves unceremoniously dumped out as the scout transformed. He cycled out one of his cannons and snapped off a single shot, catching Astrotrain just above the elbow and delaying him firing that gun long enough for Sideswipe to tackle the Decepticon.

If Sam and Mikaela had thought the Mission City fight to be impressive, they quickly learned otherwise. Sideswipe was truly a child of war and he loved nothing more than the chance to turn his enemies inside out. He went after the large 'con with his normal reckless abandon, tearing into Astrotrain with the finesse of a French chef de-boning a pheasant. It took all of Astrotrain's skill, plus a large measure of desperation, before the 'con managed to push the twin away long enough to transform into jet mode. He turned so his engines were facing his tormentors and blasted off, forcing Sideswipe to scramble away from the backwash of heat. By the time the warrior managed to get his feet back under him Astrotrain was out of reach.

"Wow," Sam muttered. Jazz snorted.

"Yeah. Wow. Now just remember- that was Sideswipe alone. If Sunny'd been with him they'd've done twice th' damage in half th' time." The two teens exchanged looks of alarm at that. Jazz grinned. "Glad they're on our side, huh?"

"It wasn't… like that," Mikaela's words were broken apart as she tried to describe something she clearly found indescribable. "In Mission City, I mean."

"Th' twins are melee fighters," Jazz explained. "Frontline warriors. Very hands-on, literally. None of us in Mission City were like that." He sighed and shook his head, regretting the next statement even as he said it. "Most of our fights go like this one. Th' fight in Mission City was pretty tame."

"I didn't need help," Sideswipe said to Bumblebee, sounding not quite insulted. His battle-high had yet to wear off.

"Says th' 'bot who ran towards a big gun," Jazz snapped back. The twin only shrugged.

"So Prowl sent me to tell you we're having issues," the warrior announced. A chill slid down Jazz's spine and he wrapped his arms around himself.

"Say th' magic words, Sides. Tell me it ain't Soundwave." Sideswipe didn't look at him, an answer in itself.

"Who is Soundwave?" Sam demanded suddenly. "And why are you so worried about him?"

"Remember Frenzy?" Jazz asked. By the brief flash of horror both humans showed it was obvious they did. "Well, Soundwave's kinda his boss. He's a hacker, saboteur, tactician, a decent medic, and an all-around damn scary 'con. He's a one-mech army an' I'm not so sure we can handle him."

"Worst than Astrotrain," Mikaela half-asked. Jazz laughed darkly.

"He could eat Astrotrain for breakfast. Hell, he could've given Megatron a serious run for his money. Why he didn't I'll never know."

"And he's in orbit," Sideswipe added. "So we need to get back to base."

"Damn," Jazz muttered to himself as the two mechs transformed back. "An' what a time for Blaster t' learn how t' disappear."

"Blaster?" Sam glanced at him.

"Our anti-Soundwave 'bot. He's not as impressive as Soundwave, but he's th' only one of us who can hold his own against him."

"Do you know where he is?" Mikaela tried hopefully.

"Right now I wouldn't guess if he's even alive. Sorry." Jazz dropped back into the backseat and stared out the window, watching as Sideswipe took up place behind the Camaro. This was not good. This was very not good.

This was war, kicking down the door. And this time around Jazz wasn't so sure they would win.