Grasping a Chance

by Gatekat

Knights of Light, Jazz/Prowl When an aimless young saboteur and a gifted but unhappy tactician crash land on a world far from home, their suddenly new lack of choices may be the best thing that has ever happened to them.

3. Dancing Across the City

Grasping a Chance 3: Dancing Across the City
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This place was rather calm and peaceful at night, Jazz admitted to himself as he dropped easily from one balcony to the next in the residential quarters. The citizens of the city seemed to like it there, and were friendly enough, even to strangers. The Citadel was a nice place, the Knights themselves seemed nice enough, so long as you followed their rules.

And that was where Jazz was starting to have problems. He was bored. He had been a mech of action his entire functioning, and now it seemed as though nothing was required of him but to play nice and to sit through the boring lessons on laws and manners and workings of the city. When he had discovered that even if he wanted to spend the rest of his functioning doing nothing but sitting on his aft because he was in no danger of starving or being turned out on the street here he had refused to believe it.

In fact, he still didn't.

Which was why he was on a self imposed mission.

He was on his way to go check on Prowl first, and then he was going to start looking in on these other Knights and some more of the Citadel. The place was huge, and he knew there were areas they had not seen yet. Time to go start looking at things that they were not being shown.

His next drop placed him on the balcony belonging to the Knight that was keeping Prowl, and he looked inside carefully. The living space was empty, neatly arranged around a focal entertainment center and with three doors leading off. One to Prowl's room, one to the Citadel, and one to Thorn's berthroom, since the place seemed to be laid out much like Wing's.

Jazz reached for the balcony door and stopped when he noticed the small pad for a lock, lit to indicate it was currently engaged. With a frown he plugged into it, noting that the code to open it from the outside was fairly simple. Still unwilling to take chances, he locked it partially open and slipped inside.

The room remained dark and quiet, open to his exploration. Most likely the door on his left was to Thorn's room. Which meant that the one on the right was Prowl's. Jazz moved carefully in that direction, nodding as the door opened before him. Prowl's did not lock, as his did not. That at least seemed to be a common factor.

The room was comfortable but largely austere, meant to be functional and not necessarily attractive. He had no doubt it pleased Prowl. What displeased Jazz in the extreme was that the berth in the room was empty and still neatly made.

Concerned, he left the room and crossed the living space to the other berthroom, intent on finding the other mech. He carefully opened the door, relieved that it wasn't locked, and spotted the mingling of pure black, gold, storm grays and red, glowing and not, on Thorn's berth. A careful, deep intake showed no signs of interfacing, or even getting excited, only two mecha that had gone into recharge snuggled peacefully on the same berth.

It was not at all like what Prowl's file indicated he was like. The mech was supposed to hate company and be extremely defensive of his personal space.

Jazz stared for a while, confused as he took in the entire scene. Prowl did not seem to be distressed in any way. In fact, to judge from just looking at him Prowl was more relaxed now than Jazz had ever seen him.

With that thought in his processor and entire list of questions generated by his discovery Jazz backed out of the room and let the door close. For a moment he simply stood in the common area of the quarters, processing and deciding on his next move.

He would spend tonight finding out more, and the next chance that he had to address the issue with Prowl in anything resembling privacy he was going to pounce on the chance.

Course of action reached, Jazz let himself back out the balcony, locking the door back behind him, and started climbing upward. He didn't remember there being any locks on the public balcony, and with surveillance being as minimal as it was, that was the place to sneak in for a better look around.

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"Wing?" Jazz started, waiting until he was sure that he had the white Knight's attention as they sipped their evening energon in the common room. "I've been a good mech, right?"

"Yes," Wing twitched, curious. "I wish your skills had more use here, but we'll find something you like."

Jazz sighed and twitched, confronted once more with his failing. Every day he was reminded that everything he had learned in his functioning, mostly how to survive, had little place here in this 'prefect paradise'.

"Can we go somewhere? Out? Going to lose my processor if I stay here much longer."

He had investigated all the main levels of the Citadel, some with company, many more after dark and on his own. The Knights, at least on the surface, were just what they claimed. Even his inspection of their council room had revealed nothing to cause him to doubt what they said, after he had gotten over his initial shock at the sight.

He saw the way Wing dropped at his statement and assumed it meant they couldn't.

The quick nod said otherwise.

"Sure," Wing smiled. "There's lots of the city to see. Orchestra, opera, solo acts, dancing of all kinds, there's a big open-air market that opens in the morning, and different vendors are there in the evenings." He was starting to get excited. It had been a while since he'd gotten out too.

"Anywhere. Anything. The sooner the better." Jazz said at first, then thought about it a little more. "Don't have any credits for the market. Never been to any of those others things either, except for a little dancing."

"So how about a club?" Wing suggested quickly, his wings fluttering a bit from their tuck. "Music, dancing, good energon, sweets. My treat."

For the first time in a while there was an edge of excitement in Jazz's field. "That sounds like fun."

"Great. We can go tonight," Wing grinned brightly, his wings giving another flutter. "Things don't really get going until the dark cycle begins in four joors. We can grab a nap now, if you want."

"Good plan." Jazz gulped down the rest of his energon and relaxed back in his chair, willing to wait patiently until Wing had finished his now that there was a promise of going out. It wasn't long, Wing could down energon with the soldiers Jazz knew when motivated, and apparently the promise of a nap and going out was motivation. Maybe the jet was feeling just as restless as Jazz. He hadn't gotten to really fly, or get out in any way, since Jazz's arrival.

With a grin that was pure eagerness Wing offered a hand to Jazz as he stood. The grounder took it with a smile, one that did really reach his field. There was still a distinct lack of real trust in Jazz, even thought Wing had been nothing but honest so far.

"So nap, then fun." Jazz repeated as they strolled back to Wing's quarters.

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Jazz looked around at a part of the city he hadn't been in yet. This section was as ordered and pristine as every place else that he had been, but there was a slightly different feel in the air. Not bad, just alive in a different way than he was used to.

The music from the club hit him as soon as they walked in the door. Not loud enough to be uncomfortable, but strong enough for him to feel it. And he liked it. The lighting shifted, bright on the dance floor that was the center of the establishment, and gentler over the seating areas arranged around it and even dimmer on the mezzanine level on the second floor.

The floor was half full with mecha already, some alone and others with partners, and the seating area sported about the same number. As Wing led the way to a rather out of the way corner booth Jazz noted that this place was a little more upscale than it first appeared. There were mecha seated and enjoying complete meals, not just drinks and snacks like he was used to in clubs.

"Popular place?" He asked, half question and part observation.

"Yes, particularly the upper middle class," he grinned and made sure Jazz was settled before taking a seat that was almost as much with his back against the wall as Jazz's as. Though for Wing it was all about people watching, rather than protecting himself. Jazz had learned that much about his guard. Wing simply was not afraid of anyone attacking him, and given his full history, Jazz could even understand that. "Not many Knights come here. That's why you'll see a lot more folks looking at me than usual."

"But you come here." Jazz said, helm tilting to one side as he studied the dance floor, the motions of the mecha and feeling once more the general overall atmosphere. "How did you find it?"

"It's owned by the same mech, a chef, that owns one of my favorite restaurants," Wing grinned, relaxing as he brought up the menu. "When I saw the notice that he was opening a dance club with a full kitchen, I just had to check it out. Really good food, good music, good dancing, friendly patrons. Plenty of reason to come back, even if it is pretty far out of the way for me."

That was logical enough for Jazz, and sounded just like his keeper's reasoning. He leaned over to study the menu, most of the items on it completely foreign to him, the descriptions sounding like something that should be in a parts catalogue, all full of components.

"You dance when you come here, or just mecha watch and eat?"

"I dance," Wing grinned at him. "I like to have a snack and watch for a while first. I think you do too."

Jazz's answer was a soft laugh and a nod, guarded but agreeing, as he settled back in his chair to watch the dancing once more. The longer he watched the more enticing it became, the perfect outlet for all the physical and mental energy pent up in his frame with no outlet for far too long.

Wing chuckled and waved something bite-sized in front of his nose. "Have a few bites. Then we can dance. Unless you're inclined to bring someone home?"

One of the snacks disappeared into Jazz's mouth and he took his time savoring it as he contemplated the dance floor and the surrounding seating once more. "Not opposed to the idea, if something strikes my fancy. Usual habit of yours too?"

"Usually," Wing nodded, popping one of the crunchy fluff balls into his mouth. "This has been the longest my berth's been empty since I became a Knight. It's a little weird."

"Because of me?" There was an edge of surprise in Jazz's tone. If the winged Knight enjoyed interfacing that much, surely there must have been some way for him to get some. Jazz didn't think he had been that much trouble.

Wing shrugged lightly, really just a flick of his nacelle pinions. "Between the noise, distraction and how hard I shut down afterwards, I wouldn't notice if you needed me. So I haven't, and I won't until you don't need me anymore." He popped a second crunchy fluff ball into his mouth. "Duty comes first."

"The more I learn of your functioning, the more boring it sounds." Jazz commented as he helped himself to another one of the snacks.

"The existence of a Knight is not for most. It is not an easy one," Wing agreed easily. "Not even all who believe they want it are selected for training. Bearing a Great Sword is an honor, but it is also a duty that goes far beyond skills that can be trained."

"Don't worry, no ambition here." Jazz replied, optics adhered to the dancefloor and fingers twitching to the music that had started, the beat fast and catching. His entire field rippled with the desire to move.

Wing simply laughed and stood, taking the last two treats. He popped one in his mouth and offered the other along with a hand to his charge. "Let's dance before you explode."

Jazz took the offered treat and hand as he bounced to his feet, following Wing's lead out into the dance floor. It wasn't hard to catch on to the simpler moves that he had been observing, and he hadn't been entirely idle since he had been released from the medical restrictions. He still hadn't pushed his new frame and systems yet, wasn't entirely sure how far they would go or what kind of strain they would withstand. But what he was doing here on the dancefloor was far easier than jumping balconies and scaling walls. And this was a legitimate form of recreation, compared to what he had been doing.

It was also chance for him to get a feel for another level of the city, the mecha that were not the bottom, but not the top either, if he was reading this right. The feel certainly matched what Wing had told him of middle class. Mecha that worked for what they had, but had enough that they were able to go out and enjoy themselves without overreaching their means.

With that in mind Jazz stepped up his moves, just to see what kind of reaction he would get from nearby dancers. He saw and felt Wing keep up, though he was struggling. The Knight knew his frame, but he didn't dance that often. Not like Jazz at any rate.

The change and charge in those around them came quickly. Attention centered on Jazz, space was given and optics watched. Some curious, others fascinated, a few jealous and more than a couple burning with early desire.

Pleased with the reaction and flattered with the attention, Jazz toned it down a little, matching his current dance partner more. "This is fun." He said, a true smile that blazed clear to his visor lighting his face for the first time since he had woken in the city.

"It is," Wing's grin was matching and bright, though it was far from unusual to see him pleased. "I'll have to take you to a few more clubs."

"Or I can," a mid-sized deep blue and forest green grounder, lithe and with bright blue optics, slid up behind Jazz close enough to be intimate, but not quite touching.

Jazz glanced over his shoulder, studying the other mech from helm to pede with a half smile, the light in his expression dimming some. "Afraid I won't be taking you up on that."

"Now why is that?" The mech asked, his tone sultry and field promising pleasure. "Knights don't play with the rest of us. I can show you a better time than that jet."

Jazz caught the flash of tension in Wing, the conflicting impulses to step aside and to defend.

"Prior commitments. I'm here for a dance now though." Jazz offered. One wouldn't hurt, and the entire point of going out had been to burn some energy and have some fun. He'd be a good mecha and go home with Wing, but surely the jet trusted him enough to let him play on his own under supervision.

He felt the Knight move away without a single protest. Yes, his good behavior was earning the rewards he wanted. Wing may not be going far, but he was smoothly moving away without even trying to stop Jazz being with someone else.

Arousal flickered higher in the stranger as they both shifted their rhythm to match the other. "I'm Wild Winds."

Jazz bumped the difficulty up a notch and couldn't help the small flare of pleasure when the other mech matched it with ease. "Jazz." He replied, the introduction coming easily.

He could appreciate the arousal of a good dance partner, and he could really appreciate the way Wild Winds managed to keep his hands to himself despite everything about him screaming that he didn't want to.

With a deep purr of his performance engine, Wild Wind pushed their movements faster, up to the level that Jazz recognized meant that this mech won contests, and often. Hands came close to Jazz's waist, asking if he'd join in. To get any more complicated really did require the contact.

Jazz hesitated, but only for a moment before he moved into the touch, accepting the contact and the next level. This was playing with fire, and it was fun. The grin that split his face was part enjoyment and part dare, challenging the other grounder to do his best. Wild Wing grinned and pulled Jazz closer, their frames sliding against each other, causing the occasional spark and more than a few revving engines among the audience.

Despite the pace, the twists, dips, shimmies and spins, Jazz kept up. It was getting harder though, each time one of them upped the ante. He could feel the heat in his frame from the exertion, feel it in Wild Wind's too. But the overriding sensation Jazz kept picking up with the heavy teek of arousal and a growing ping from his processors that this mech was becoming less likely to accept no for an answer.

To give up or to keep going...the question came in a flash as Jazz's turn to up the ante came around. And just as quickly came his decision. One more time, just to push the boundaries a little and hold on to this feeling of alive that he had been craving for one more turn around the floor.

Then he would call it quits.

Not that there was any sign of his plans in the challenging smirk he on his face.

When Wild Wind took the lead back, he pulled Jazz close. "You are quite the tease," the voice was a soft rumble. "And far too good for that Knight."

"I wouldn't be any fun if I wasn't." Jazz pointed out as he followed his partner's every move, his reply just as soft and still with the teasing lilt to it. "But Wing is quite entertaining, even if he can't dance as well as me."

"Entertaining even after lights go out?" he rumbled deeply, tipping his helm to brush a kiss along Jazz's cheek.

Jazz's frame stiffened at the touch, and when the lead changed once more he kept it to the same level, signaling an end with this last pass, and with his reply. "I'm sure he is, if I was interested."

"A hot number like you not interested in some hot action?" Wild Wind nearly lost the beat before he took the lead back mid-song and pulled Jazz close. "I can change that," he rumbled and pressed his lips against Jazz's.

It was Jazz's turn to almost stumble in shock, and then anger rippled through his field fast and hot as he twisted free with growl. The moment he was free he turned, already on the attack, but a hand from behind caught his arm as a soothing field enveloped him.

"Calm, Jazz," Wing's voice was liquid peace in his audials as Wing's other arm wrapped around his waist. "He went too far, but that's no excuse to hurt him."

Wild Wind simply stared at them, his optics wide with shock.

Jazz went still at the touch, though growled again low and dangerous, before Wing's words were fully processed. The field surrounding his own helped even more, smoothing out the rough anger and smothering the fire as he vented sharply.

There was no apology in optics or stance as Jazz's frame straightened and he glared at the other mech.

"What kind of mech are you?" Wild Wind hissed, his armor fluffing out slightly in anger.

"The kind who's free to turn you down," Wing said evenly, though Jazz could feel the willingness to fight for the statement to be true as the white jet gradually shifted around Jazz to stand between them. "Go find a willing berthmate for the night."

Wild Wind growled, but his engine stilled when Wing's hands dropped to the two swords at his hips. Like the Great Sword on his back, they were peace-bound, but no one doubted that they could be drawn in an instant if the young Knight decided to. It was a courtesy, a social signal, not a physical barrier.

"Who are you to him that you can speak for him?" Wild Wind demanded even as he took a step back and spread his hands a bit in a signal for peace.

"Jazz is my charge."

The statement, so evenly delivered, caused a ripple through the audience even as it parted for two private security mecha to step up.

"Is there a problem here, Knight?" One of the guards instinctively looked to Wing for what was going on.

"No," Wing relaxed and smiled at him. "Only a small misunderstanding and a slightly overprotective guardian," he said with something close to an embarrassed effect. "My apologies for the disruption."

With that Wing turned, inclined his helm to the guards, and put a firm but light hand on Jazz's arm. Despite it, Jazz could feel that the touch was guiding, not leading. "I think it would be best to continue our evening elsewhere."

The statement was met with no resistance from his charge, Jazz pointed ignoring everything but the guiding hand on his arm as they entered the cool night air. There Jazz did stop, once the music had faded, and vented as he gathered himself.

"I'm sorry," Wing apologized. "He didn't seem like he'd go that far without encouragement."

Jazz's armor ruffled and settled. "I said no nicely. He would have deserved what he was going to get if he hadn't backed off when you stepped in."

"Yes, but you would not have deserved the punishment that likely would have resulted," Wing said gently. "This isn't a military base, Jazz. The law is different. If you had hit him, there would have been a punishment."

The mech at Wing's side grunted dismissively. Jazz was used to punishments. He doubted whatever would have resulted would be any worse than many that he had already endured. "Going to take me back home then?" He finally grumbled.

"Well, I was really hoping we could both burn some energy," Wing shifted uneasily. "I like being this sedentary about as much as you do. I know some other clubs. Not as nice, but ones that are more used to Knights and, well, it wouldn't take much for everybody to know not to touch you because you're my charge. It doesn't mean you're 'facing me, just that I'm responsible for you and I'm not going to tolerate anyone getting too close."

The irritated edge in Jazz's field faded a bit at the suggestion. "I'd like to stay out. And I don't mind. That place was a lot nicer then I'm used to anyway."

"Mind if we fly? We can be there in a breem instead of a couple joors," Wing offered a loose embrace Jazz could step into or reject.

Jazz stepped forward with a shrug. He figured Wing wasn't about to drop him after all the trouble. Or was he?

"I'm hoping this isn't your plan to finish me off." He commented.

Wing snickered and helped Jazz arrange himself for a good grip and easy balance. "If I was planning to finish you off, I'd go for something a lot less penance-worthy than dropping you from a height."

"Penance-worthy?" Jazz repeated once they lifted off, apparently not phased at being suspended in the air with nothing but the arms of another mech and his own grip to keep him there.

"Knights have two categories of punishment for infractions," Wing said easy, his voice pitched to be heard over the rush of air and engines. "Penalties are for minor disobedience, acts against the Code of Light and orders but are not actual crimes. They tend to be in the form of extra duty shifts, extra clean up duties, brig time on occasion, but it all smelts down to minor acts and minor punishments. For acts that are actual crimes, there are penances where you have to make reparations to the universe and balance for what you did."

Confusion flooded Jazz's field as he tried to wrap his processor around the idea of balancing things with the universe, like it was some sentient being with a ledger. "Sounds a little out there to me."

"It's just how Knights do things," Wing said easily as the city rushed below them. "It won't apply to you unless you decide to be a Knight."

Jazz's laughter was clear even over the rush of the wind. "Like I said before, no worries, mech. Someone would kill me first, I think." His attention shifted as they started to descend, trying to pick out their destination. It didn't take much. It was a club, and definitely closer to what Jazz was used to. The music was more about the beat, there were people everywhere outside and the area seemed a little less well-heeled, though it was hardly downtrodden. Nothing in this city seemed to be downtrodden, or even that close. There still weren't that many airframes, but as Wing landed the difference became palatable.

In the first club Wing's swords made him the center of attention in a slightly uneasy way. They weren't used to his kind, even if he did visit on occasion. Here he was greeted with grins, knowing winks and one proposal to spend the night together that Wing politely turned to the mech's surprise before they made it into the club itself.

Jazz chuckled, suddenly more at ease. This was a game he could play, and this was clearly Wing's territory. "You must come here to play much more often." He commented, frame already twitching to the music.

"Definitely. The Del Sarineni is a treat, and usually a group of us go together," Wing nodded as he guided Jazz onto the dance floor, a space that really amounted to everywhere except for a few tables and the bar. "This is the closest club to the Citadel, so it sees a lot of the younger and more social Knights."

Wing made a sudden, energetic wave, drawing Jazz's attention to a corner table where a glossy black Knight with glowing red and glittering gold was sitting serenely in the chaos while a decidedly unhappy looking Prowl was doing his level best to see everything and not notice all the looks he was getting.

With a chirp of excitement Jazz left Wing's side and bounced to the table, the atmosphere already affecting his mood and washing away the shadows from the last club. He pulled out the empty chair without asking and plopped down next to Prowl with a grin. "Thorn. Prowl."

"Jazz," Prowl murmured, his gaze flicking to the definitely happy mech he could teek.

Thorn chuckled, amused even if his charge was not and greeted the newcomers. "Jazz. I see Wing got you out. Or you got him to go out. And if was the latter, I'm sure it didn't take much convincing on your part."

"Not much at all," Wing laughed easily as he grabbed a chair and sat down with the others. "We both needed a night out and some action." He spared a look for Prowl and the way the mech had his wings tucked as tightly as possible to his frame.

"Social lesson. How to identify emotion and intent," Thorn explained their presence, since neither was likely to be here on their own.

"He likes to legally torture me," Prowl responded dryly.

"It's not that bad!" Jazz protested with a laugh, looking Prowl up and down before jumping to his feet and holding his hand out. "How about seeing if Thorn will let you take a break? Come dance."

Prowl gave him a wary look, staring at the hand for almost too long before he responded to the gentle nudge of Thorn's field and accepted it. "You are aware that I have no idea how to dance."

"We'll start simple. And I know that you can count." Jazz said, delighted that his offer had been accepted as he led Prowl to a corner of the dancefloor that was less crowded in an attempt to keep the other mech from feeling less crowded and to protect his sensor wings while he was focused on other things.

The current song ended and switched to something a little slower, and Jazz smiled. "Good. Now listen- 1-1, 1-2,1-3,1-4, 2-1" each count was accompanied by a single step for Prowl to mirror as he was the center of Jazz's attention.

Thorn watched for a moment, slightly surprised as he looked at Wing. "Were they telling the truth when they said they were not involved with each other? I didn't think he was going to accept, even with the encouragement."

Wing watched the pair for a long while, noting how easily Prowl took to the instruction, but even with songs that typically meant contact, he reflexively flinched away when Jazz did more than the lightest brush against his arms.

"I think they were telling the truth," Wing said, though his tone spoke of uncertainty as well. "You have been pushing him to socialize, and no matter how little they knew each other before, they are each other's most common ground now. They came from the same culture. Think about if you and Marwir were stranded on their world. It wouldn't take long before you grew close, simply because it's the only familiar thing you have, the only person you know understands how you'd been trained to think like and what you expect of the people around you."

Thorn hummed in agreement, optics still centered on the pair on the corner of the floor. "He is getting better, on many levels. Still a long way to go, but he no longer assumes that every mecha that so much as compliments him is after something. The first one to say something about how smoothly the scheduling has run since he took over almost crashed him, I think. Though at least he recognized it as not an interface advance right away. It still shocked him."

Wing snickered. "Has he managed to take any compliments gracefully?"

Thorn shrugged a wing. "Not by our standards, but most of the Knights have some grasp of how under socialized he is and are good about giving him some grace. It's a real help as he struggles through the motions. Even when he does a terrible job of accepting a compliment, when he's trying, he gets the right feedback to encourage him to keep trying."

"How much has the duty helped?" Wing asked as he watched his own charge, deeply relieved at how relaxed and happy he seemed. He did think that Prowl was a little less pent up than the first library encounter.

"More than I dared hope for," Thorn admitted. "It seems like recharging with fields around helps him too, especially when we manage not to touch him physically."

"He is adjusting then, even if it is only slowly." Wing commented, optics focused on his own charge and a small frown gracing his features as he studied Jazz once more. "I wish I could say the same for Jazz. On the outside he seems as though he is adjusting fine, but there was almost an incident at the first club I took him to tonight."

"How serious an incident?" Thorn focused on his friend, though he never lost track of his charge.

"In his defense, the other mecha didn't take no for an answer, but Jazz was ready to tear into him before I stepped in. And his field...He was ready to commit violence, and not stop until he was done." It was a level of danger that Wing had not seen in his charge before, and had started some new questions in the Knight's processor.

"He is fresh from a war that began before he was created," Thorn reminded Wing gently. "It will take more than a decaorn for him to completely stand down. By all rights, it should take him vorns. I haven't teeked the same in Prowl, but he has not made it a secret that he was trained to respond first with flight, then to fight if he's cornered. He completely rejects the idea that the war won't come here and he needs to be prepared for it. I can see it in him. He hasn't challenged it since the first debate, but he's no closer to believing that we're any safer here than he was in Iacon."

White wings fluttered then settled against Wing's back, the task before him suddenly slipping into much clearer focus. "A long time. This seems to help though. Maybe we should consider arranging more meetings like these." He nodded over to where Jazz was still working with Prowl, sometimes slipping away to show off more advanced versions of the basic moves he was teaching the storm gray mech but always returning.

"It definitely does the two of you good," Thorn said thoughtfully, his deep red optics softening when he focused on Prowl. "While I can't call that happy, Prowl's definitely taking to socializing better with Jazz as his focus. It might do us all well to let their relationship grow. I do not agree with Dai Atlas' belief that keeping them separated most of the time is the best choice."

"He fears they will plot to escape." Wing said, then sighed. "He probably wouldn't be pleased with this arrangement, even though we are both sitting here watching them."

Thorn hummed as he watched their charges dance. One was eager, energetic and delighted. The other had balance and an incredible ability to pick up moves by watching, but no desire to be there. "I think it might be time for our dear leader to really meet Prowl in as close to full tactical mode as we can manage."

Wing made a face, but nodded in agreement. His creator might be in for a little bit of a surprise, even if he thought he knew what he was dealing with. "From what you have said, it would be good for Prowl. And for Dai. This will distract Jazz for a while, and if taking him out every orn is the solution to getting him to focus and pay attention during his studies, I can manage that."

It was a solution that Wing actually didn't mind at all. And while he was at it, he should drag Jazz through one of the markets, credits to spend or no. It would show the new mech another side of the city and its citizens, and if Jazz saw something that he wanted, Wing could point him in the direction of some of the extra chores where mecha could earn spending credits around the city. He had no doubt that he and Jazz had that much in common. The more practical and application-apparent the lesson, the easier it sank in.

"I'm sure you'll enjoy it," Thorn chuckled and he pinged Dai Atlas a request for a meeting of several joors at the Sovereign's leisure in the next few orns. Then they settled in to watch their charges in relative silence.