Warning: no death this time, but graphic description of Prowl's accident back in Praxus
Disclaimer: don't own Transformers, make no profit from this
A decaorn later things had settled mostly back into the normal routine. Piper's classes were now being taught by a temporary tutor brought in from Vos, and apart from the construction area in the courtyard outside the administration block and the constant stream of mecha heading off to appointments with the replacement counsellor, it was almost possible to believe none of it had ever happened.
"You'll never guess who joined our history class today." Smokescreen said to Slimline as he sat down at the commissary table.
"Granite?" Slimline asked disinterestedly, naming the miner who often skipped his more academic classes.
"Nope. Prowl."
Slimline looked up in surprise, then shook her head.
"Can't be the Prowl we knew. He was going to train as an Enforcer, he wouldn't come here."
"Who's this?" Jazz asked, attention drawn by the word 'Enforcer', still torn over whether or not he should have confessed to the Enforcers what he did to Veneer just to clear his conscience.
"A mech who was at basic prep with us back in Praxus." Smokescreen explained. "Bright enough, but a bit of an aft sometimes - he liked rules. Didn't see him much outside of class, he was always getting extra tutoring in strategy and military tactics."
"So why's he here?" Jazz asked more for conversation than out of genuine interest.
"He was in an accident." Slimline shivered, leaning in against Jazz for comfort. "A heating unit exploded while he was studying one night. He got pinned down and the fire got so hot it melted part of his frame to the wall!"
Jazz flinched at the image.
"And he survived that?"
"Sort of." Smokescreen took over. "His sparkchamber was intact, but his processor was slagged. They took him off to Ordan Helix - the medical academy, you know, where they only take the really seriously injured. Last we heard the only option was to give him all new programming and start him off as a sparkling again."
"But there hasn't been enough time." Slimline pointed out. "What's he doing here?"
"Maybe they found another way." Smokescreen shrugged. "Ask him yourself when you see him."
Jazz felt Slimline stiffen against him.
"He won't be in our classes, though. He's got to be behind!"
"I just told you - he was in History. Weren't you listening?"
"Somethin' wrong?" Jazz asked as Slimline pulled away abruptly.
"I've got an assignment to finish. I'm going to head back."
"I'll come too." Jazz offered.
"No, you stay here." she said quickly, then smiled at him. "You've hardly been out of your room in orns. Stay. I'll come by later."
She headed off and Jazz stared after her.
"What was that all about?" Smokescreen asked.
Jazz shrugged.
"Guess she's got an assignment to write. So. What's the deal with this new mech?"
"Nothing much, it's just weird seeing him again. I thought he'd be scrapped, for sure. Anyway, there's much more interesting stuff to talk about than that boring drone: guess who Blaster saw Keepsake kissing in the physics lab..."
Slimline was waiting for him in his room when he finally got back, claiming that she hadn't been able to concentrate on her assignment. He offered to help but she ignored that, cuddling close and kissing him passionately. He was happy enough to have her in his arms, but when he tried to move them both towards the berth she resisted.
"Do you love me?" she asked.
"Course I do."
"Really?"
"Sure."
"I want you to game someone for me."
Jazz grimaced, leaning his forehead on her shoulder.
"I ain't playin' anymore, I tolja that. I'm done wit' it."
"Just one more. For me."
"Liney..."
"Please?
"You could do it yourself, I know y'know how."
She stiffened.
"What makes you say that?"
"You were tryin' t'get me t'use that stasis script."
She stayed still and silent, and he shifted to kiss her again.
"It was sweet that you tried, Liney, but I really di'n't want it. Y'can't force someone t'do somethin' they really don't wanna do. An' y'can't fool another gamer: I recognised the foreign code the click it started t'initialise."
She pouted.
"I just wanted you to rest."
"I know. An' it was nice of ya t'try, even if it didn't work."
"Well there, you see?" she asked. "You spotted it and deleted it. That's why I need you to do this."
He shook his head unhappily.
"I don't want to. It's too dangerous."
"But you just said it yourself: you can't make someone do something unless they would do it anyway. So you can't've been responsible for Veneer or Piper. Even if you had tried to get them to kill themselves, it wouldn't have worked unless they planned to first."
It wasn't nearly that simple but he was tired of trying to explain it to her. Besides, it all terrified him too much, the possibilities of causation. The more he thought about the knock-on effects of even a small change, the more he realised how risky it all was. It wasn't right to play about it another mech's processor. There wasn't anything fun about it at all.
Still, he knew she wouldn't leave him alone until he did something, so he at least had to hear her out.
"So who is it?" he asked finally.
"Prowl." she said promptly.
The name was a total surprise and he pulled back to look at her in surprise.
"The new mech? He's only been here an orn! I didn't think you'd even spoken to him yet."
"I haven't." she said shortly.
"Then why...?"
"Because he deserves it. That mech... I don't want him to stay here. I want him to leave."
"Well I can't make him leave if he wants t'be here."
"You can make him feel uncomfortable. Make him want to leave."
"But why?"
She bit her lip, looking away.
"He..." she began, then broke off and pulled away, beginning to pace. "I knew him back in Praxus. We did an assignment together. We were working late and I was tired and I dropped offline. When I came online, he was... he had some of my ports open."
"You reported him?" Jazz asked, shocked.
"No, I couldn't." she shook her head tightly. "He was the teachers' favourite and I wasn't anyone special, they would never have believed me. Besides, I needed that grade. There wasn't anything I could do. Then he had his accident and I thought he'd gotten what he deserved. But now he's back and I want him to go away!"
He walked over to her, holding her close and upset to find she was trembling.
"It's okay, Liney. I'll keep ya safe."
"But just knowing he's here makes me remember. I don't want him here!"
"We'll figure it out." he promised. "Maybe he's changed. I mean, he had that big rebuild. It'll be okay."
"And if it isn't? If he hasn't changed?" she persisted.
"Then we'll see." he allowed. "But I ain't gamin' someone I haven't even met yet."
"So what happened at Ordan Helix?"
Prowl turned to see an old classmate standing in a nearby alcove. Slimline, the mech who he had once caught cheating on a grading exam.
"I don't remember." Prowl said coolly, disinterested in talking to this femme in particular, then realised that his current job would require him to be more engaging so he could get information.
Hadn't he heard that Slimline was now sharing a berth with the mech of interest, Jazz? Resigning himself to an unpleasant task, he tried to restart the conversation.
"Much of my memory storage was corrupted in the accident and although they managed to restore some functionality early on I have continued to experience glitches with my older memories. This is why I have only recently been released from constant monitoring and can study again."
Mostly the truth, just skipping the fact that he had been working his way through the Enforcer curriculum long-distance from Ordan Helix until he had finally been released to a posting as a new recruit. The issues with his older memories had no effect on his ability to absorb new information, and the focus on his studies had helped him cope with the lengthy procedures to repair the serious physical damage.
"But why'd you choose here?" she asked. "I thought you wanted to be an Enforcer?"
"I did." he agreed. "But I was told I would never be physically suitable for patrol work."
Also completely true; he had simply been given another specialty in the Enforcer corps, one that the public knew far less about and which was usually only a possibility after vorns of service on the streets. He took a click to admire his own clever misdirection, then continued.
"I am hoping to find another line of work which will be just as satisfying. Something in public administration, perhaps."
"You could've studied for that back in Praxus." she pointed out. "You didn't have to come to Iacon. Why did you?"
Now that was a question he did not have a simple answer for. She was right, many places offered generalist courses. He fumbled for something to say that would sound convincing, but then was saved from having to respond as someone yelled from the end of the corridor.
"Oi! You! Back the frag off!"
Turning to see what the commotion was about, he was startled to find a Kaonic mech striding angrily towards him. And not just any mech, but specifically the one he was here to investigate: Jazz.
"You stay away from Slimline." Jazz ordered as he reached them, one arm wrapping possessively around her waist and pulling her out into the hallway. "You hear me?"
"She was the one who approached me." Prowl pointed out mildly.
"Yeah right, like she did back in Praxus?" Jazz sneered. "Oh yeah, I know all about that."
"I don't follow your meaning."
"Sure you don't."
Prowl tried to determine what Jazz could be referring to. It was true, his memories of his time at the Praxian basic preparatory institute were damaged and a few were missing, but he was sure he had never had much to do with any of his classmates. And the only thing he did remember about Slimline, her deception with the grading exam, could not be the cause of this mech's current ire.
"Just leave it, Jazz." Slimline begged, cuddling in close to him. "Lets go."
Jazz continued to glare at him, but allowed her to pull him away.
"You won't get away wit' anythin' here." he promised as they left. "I'll make sure of that."
Disturbed, Prowl headed straight for the communications centre and requested a private comms booth. Students were not permitted to make external calls except from these booths, in an attempt to help them focus on their studies. He was sure it did not work as planned, but that was not his concern.
Bringing up the mission details in his HUD, he dialled the second of the numbers he had been given. The first was for regular reporting; this was was for urgency and went straight to Commander Brass. The older mech accepted the call almost immediately, his familiar features filling the small vidscreen.
"Barricade? Why are you getting in contact so quickly?"
"There is a problem, sir. Jazz is suspicious of me and unlikely to confide any incriminating information in my presence."
"He knows you're an Enforcer?" Brass frowned.
"No sir. This is something unrelated. Still, I feel that the best option is for me to leave and a trained operative to be brought in."
"What unrelated issue is there?" Brass demanded.
Prowl hesitated.
"I'm not sure. His current berthmate is a Praxian named Slimline who I studied with in Praxus, and he seems to believe there was a relationship between us."
"And was there?"
"Not that I recall, and I cannot imagine why I would have entered into such a relationship with her in particular; it makes no sense. Moreover, from the little he has said he seems to believe that I..."
He paused. This was pure speculation, and more than a little unpleasant. He should not have raised it.
"That you, what?" Brass prompted.
"That I had coerced her into the relationship against her will." he responded obediently.
"I see. Why would he think such a thing?"
"I can only speculate that she has indicated such to him."
Prowl waited for a reaction but there was nothing further, so in the end he asked.
"Sir? Permission requested to return to Praxus."
"Permission denied." Brass said firmly, then smiled kindly. "I forget sometimes how young you are. Such silliness over who is sharing with whom always seems so desperately important during the academy vorns, I expect this Jazz is merely jealous of his partner's former lover and making clear his own position. Once he realises you're not interested, he'll calm down. In the meantime, this is good socialisation training for you: something that both Checkdigit and Lighttouch insist you need more of, and I agree. No, Barricade, you will remain in place. I'm sure you'll do just fine."
Jazz paced in his room, watching the chrono on the wall for it to be late enough to log in to the system he had sworn never to use again. The delay was only making him angrier.
"You want me t'game 'im? I'll fraggin' well game him, alright. Mech's been here less'n two orns an' he's already cornerin' ya in th'hall? Frag that. He's gotta be taught a lesson an' it's okay by me if I get t'be the one t'do it."
He had come running when Slimline had called him, and had been alarmed to find her cornered in an alcove, not able to get away without first coming closer to the Praxian who had her trapped. Jazz's temper had snapped at that sight. Slimline had made it clear she was deeply frightened by this mech's very presence, and Jazz had basically dismissed her concerns, yet here she was being persecuted at the first opportunity. The guilt had made him angrier; he should have listened to her from the start.
The problem was, she wasn't really the type to be intimidated by anyone else. In the time he'd known her, he'd seen her stand up to mechs several times her size without flinching at all. It was part of what had drawn him to her, that fearlessness. With that history it had been hard to imagine her frightened.
The last two groons in her room dealing with her fright had solved that for him.
Seeing the chrono flick over to the new joor - one full groon into the standard charge cycle - he rushed back to his desk and logged in. He had written these programs himself, tailoring a system that let him identify every mech and femme on the academy campus who was connected to the chargers. Their identities were encrypted, but he had learned to interpret the coding and he located Prowl within clicks.
"Gotcha. Now, my mech, lets see how you like feelin' scared."