Starcrossed

by Gatekat

G1 AU, Jazz/Prowl, Jazz/Vortex Jazz is the second creation of a Noble House that's fallen on hard times. He's promised as the subordinate mate to a wealthy commoner in exchange for a great deal of credits. It's only when he meets his future mate that things get bad.

39. The Fall of Praxus

Starcrossed 39: The Fall of Praxus
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Radiance booted feeling warm and content between the frames of his mates who were draped over him, still snuggled tightly, fields meshed and relaxed together. He purred deep in his chassis, raising his arms up and stretching. "Good morning, my loves," he murmured as they began to boot from the movement.

The way of life in Praxus had changed over the last decade. The city's borders were closed to new residents, everyone wore a visible tag of citizenship, and anyone found without was exiled. Creations had to be approved on an individual basis and less than a dozen were allowed every vorn. Creation without a permit was grounds for exile. Energon was rationed for every citizen and could no longer be purchased, not even by the nobility. High grade and other confections were no longer processed. Those who had been put out of business were reimbursed by the government and retrained for positions that were solid and of a similar income. The city and its economy had become self-contained, separated completely from the rest of the planet. Prisoners were immediately deported, not seen as worth the energon they would consume. Large scale theft of energon served as grounds for immediate exile and on one notable occasion, execution.

Praxus was, essentially, isolated. Neutral in the war, it neither supported nor was supported by the Imperial government or the growing faction under Megatron's leadership. The former city of Vos had been destroyed and all its survivors scattered, with most of them now in Kaon and the largest number after that in Praxus. Simfur had allied itself with Kaon, and the rest of the planet was still Imperial, though largely in name more than spirit.

The former ISO had not taken kindly to the figurative sacrifice of their commander, and more than a few Senators had resigned in shame when information was leaked about their personal activities. It didn't matter that Whiplash had never been taken to his execution. He had to hide from the mecha he had spent his entire existence sacrificing his happiness to protect. More than a few agents went to the Decepticon ranks, though most were still waiting for their leader to give the order on what side, if any, to support or destroy.

The new, younger Senate was trying to piece together the remnants of a crumbling society, but beneath the leadership of an old, conservative Prime unwilling to make the radical decisions needed to save any part of their world, little of use had been accomplished.

But the orn to orn life in Praxus, overall, was anything but unpleasant and had honestly not changed much for working class mecha like Radiance's triad. Jazz nuzzled against his neck, Prowl's hand stroked up his side, and Radiance hummed.

"You both have a little time before work," Jazz purred. The centuries had not tempered his interfacing drive.

"You are insatiable," Radiance rumbled, lifting himself up and rolling, pushing Jazz onto his back.

"He'll always be insatiable," Prowl chuckled, snuggling up next to them, purring as they kissed before Radiance turned to claim an equally heated kiss from Prowl.

"You're next," he purred deeply, in a voice that always managed to leave his mate shivering and eager, especially with a promise like that being offered.

The soft moans of lazy morning interfacing and keening cries filled their home but all too soon the Enforcers had to clean up for work, leaving their mate purring on the berth.

Radiance chuckled and leaned in to kiss him. "Lazy," he teased.

"Lazy, please," Jazz said, nipping at him. "You should see the acrobatics I'm learning."

"Why don't you give us a show when we get home?" Radiance purred, and Jazz hummed in promise and anticipation before drawing Prowl down into a deep kiss before they left and he curled back up on the berth, already planning.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Radiance heard it first, from where he was stationed on the border monitoring the incoming and outgoing traffic, running deep scans and checks on everyone that wanted in, issuing temporary passes that sent out location signals if they expired within city limits, and scanning the subspace of everyone leaving. He was in the middle of having to explain to a visitor that Praxus no longer accepted new citizenship requests when the dull roar filled the air, quiet enough at first that it was dismissed, before it grew louder and louder, until everyone was looking up into the sky, which looked black in the distance.

Black with glints of light, a metallic cloud heading straight for Praxus, and distantly visible, beneath it, was a dark wall on the ground, growing.

"In!" Radiance shouted, and everyone in the vicinity rushed through the gate as it began to close. He commed the alert channel that would go straight to the head of city defense with coordinates and the live video codes from the station. "Head to the center of the city, don't stop for anything!" he ordered the civilians before linking in with his crew and giving them the same instructions, only to be greeted with laughter that he thought they were going to listen to an order like that and not stay near the outer wall to help evacuate and defend. Radiance shook his head, watching the approaching Seekers, making rapid calculations of speed and distance. ::Where are you?:: he commed Pantera.

::Three blocks from the gate,:: came the reply as a glance that way showed the Enforcer's alt mode moving against traffic.

::Get your afts to the old base, deep as you can!:: Jazz broke in on a private, secured channel in a near panic. ::The city center won't stand to that!::

"Slag," Radiance hissed, looking at Prowl, who wasn't changing his course, and then back out past the walls. ::And where are you?::

::Home-grabbing weapons. You'll get to the base before me.::

::We have to-:: Radiance started to answer, when the shriek of a missile tore the air above him. He turned to track its course and had just an instant to see it slam into the side of the nearest tall building, the explosion that followed throwing him onto his back. Another missile followed, then another, each one sending a building crumbling to the ground.

::Get out!:: Prowl and Radiance screamed to their mate together.

Radiance started running inward, grabbing Prowl as he transformed. "Residential district, that way, and why haven't the alarms started going yet?" he snarled, sending that exact demand along as they began racing towards the homes, shouting at everyone they saw to head inwards. The alarms began to sound and masses flooded the streets.

::I'm down, tell me you're getting to the base!:: Jazz said.

::Working on it.:: Prowl's voice had gone calm. Over more communal channels Jazz could hear him giving orders as a mech many grades above his station, and not a single voice called him on it. Even the officers that should have put him in his place followed or passed along the comms, adding their authority to his, directions for civilians, placement of defenses, orders to vacate buildings and head underground if possible.

::Then I'm coming to you,:: Jazz said.

::No, you get underground,:: Radiance said as he directed the chaotic flow of mecha as best he could. From the sound of it, the ground troops were almost on top of them, the Seekers were roaring overhead, shooting a rain of weaponsfire as they went. He ducked, felt a shot graze his shoulder, and moved out as soon as it stopped, running up the street with Prowl.

::Give us one less thing to worry about, please,:: Prowl insisted. ::Chaotic enough already.::

::You know, it would be less chaotic in the base,:: Jazz said sarcastically, making Radiance's mouth quirk up in a smile even as he ducked into the entrance of an abandoned bar, the strongest blaster he had armed and in his hand. Prowl was across the street from him in another entrance, a deeper one that had at least five mecha huddled in it. Prowl crouched in front of them, arm out, holding them there silently. He and Radiance peered carefully down the way, nodded once to each other as the ground troops came into sight. They ducked back, pressing as far out of sight as possible, each of them aiming forward in the street so as to hit the invaders in the back.

The roar of engines was almost painful and completely drowned out their blasters, each shot striking armor in the giant mass, some doing damage, others hitting war-grade plating that withstood even what they were armed with. Shouts and roars filled the air as the wave struck the first real line of defense one block up from them and without even thinking about it, Radiance jumped from his shelter and into the fray.

These mecha were trying to harm his home. He wasn't going to stand by. Across comm lines he could hear his team doing the same, and through the chaos, saw Prowl grappling with a grounder almost twice his size.

But Praxus's defense, while sturdy, was still new and hadn't been prepared for anything like this. The attackers kept coming and coming, barreling for the center of the city to take out the civilian shelters. The wave kept pushing forward, slaughtering most who stood in their way, and the last thing Radiance heard was the clang on the back of his helm before he dropped.

When he booted, it was to the feeling of someone immediately starting to pull at him. Prowl. He struggled up, aided by his mate, who was pushing him to run. They could hear screams and see smoke deeper into the city, and in the sky, the Seekers were banking for another pass.

::Making our way to you,:: Radiance told Jazz as they started sprinting towards the old base. The streets around them were empty now, littered with frames and debris. When they were almost to Jazz he tried to reach his creators, just simple pings, only to have them immediately bounce back, undelivered. His step faltered, shock-grief-pain ran through his field, slamming into Prowl.

Prowl immediately pinged Jazz, then Radiance's creators, and realized what had happened. "Love." He gripped Radiance tightly. "Survive now, grieve later." He gave the only advice he could.

Radiance nodded and picked his step back up, pinging his team next, finding them all online.

::What was that?:: Jazz asked about the ping, alarmed by the unusual contact.

::His creators, all gone.:: Prowl explained tersely. ::I have him moving again.::

::First wave looks like it's past,:: Jazz said. ::Went by me, headed inwards, left a lot intact. Just get here before the second one hits.::

::We're coming,:: Radiance promised. ::We're not-::

He was flung forward, slamming into the ground from the force of the explosion that erupted beneath him, screaming metal tearing through even his plating, an undetonated round designed to take out tank armor shredding the mid-sized grounder.

The line suddenly cut for Jazz, who immediately tried to reestablish, unsuccessfully. ::Something is blocking his comm,:: he sent to Prowl.

::No,:: Prowl's shocked response was half denial, half answer as he scrambled to his mate and gathered him up, already cataloging the injuries, immediately seeing that there were more than he could repair in time. ::He's-spark guttering, helm slagged. Shrap round.:: He reported on something like autopilot, trained to keep talking and giving a continual sit-rep so those coming knew what was happening, what to be ready for.

Stunned silence over the comm and beneath, failing systems were trying desperately to stabilize a spark that was shining through the shattered crystal, spinning, flickering, hands grabbing for Prowl, vocal systems ruined, visor rising halfway up and sticking there.

"We will never forget you, Radiance," Prowl whispered to him with a kiss. "You are our third." His vocalizer crackled and hissed but he forced out words that he could no longer believe in but knew his mate did. "Primus will keep you safe, free of pain until we join you. We love you, our Radiance."

Pain-denial-fear-love-no! flooded through the field, the kiss returned only partially before the sparklight flared out, washing Prowl with what he knew was the last touch he would ever have of that energy and that field, and in the next moment, he was holding a graying frame, already cooler to the touch.

::Pantera!:: Jazz's voice finally broke through, desperate for a response, not the first time he'd called out.

::It's ... over.:: Prowl stammered, his will to survive flickering. There was no broken bond, but that didn't lessen the emotional blow of losing the mech that completed him in a way he'd never known was possible, and shaking fingers traced the empty, broken crystal.

::Where are you, are you moving?:: Jazz asked, voice sounding like he was just barely holding himself together. Prowl didn't answer him, the location ping went ignored, all of it lost in the growing realization that Radiance was gone. ::Pantera? ... Pantera! ... Prowl!:: Jazz shouted, as loud as he could over the comms, and the single glyph came through laced with static and fear. ::Where are you!::

His designation was enough to snap Prowl's processors out of their stupor and to heed his own advice. Survive now. Grieve later.

He lowered the empty frame to the ground, stood, pinged his location to his surviving lover and drew the rust blaster he'd never given up. For sixteen vorns he'd carried it, hoping for another shot. Now it and the cold, calculating processor that dominated him when his emotional core went so far haywire that it was shut down completely were turned on the enemy.

Jazz almost sobbed when he saw how close his lovers had gotten, transformed, and raced to Prowl, nearly running into him as he cut around a corner. He shifted back to root mode just in time to grab him in his arms, halting the even, steady march Prowl had been making after the invading forces, shuddering when he felt how cold his field had gone.

Over Prowl's shoulder, down the street, was the single gray frame and Jazz's hand shot up over his mouth, reality hitting. "No," he choked.

"There is nothing to be done for him anymore," Prowl's voice was low and quiet. He didn't resist Jazz's restraint. "We are alone again."

"The base," Jazz said, gaze frozen. "We-"

Another explosion shook the ground around them and Jazz ducked, pulling Prowl down as debris came flying their way. It crashed into the street, Jazz shook from his daze, and started pulling Prowl with him.

Prowl didn't resist, following completely automatically where Jazz led, and they didn't stop until they were in the abandoned Ops facility, six levels down, listening to the missiles slamming into the city above, the sharp scream of tearing metal audible even from here.

Jazz collapsed in the middle of a hallway, pressing his hand and helm against the wall, moaning, long and low. Prowl was against his back, curling around him, shielding him physically from the holocaust above. It was all he could do. He wasn't capable of emotional support, other than his being there. He hurt too much, but that pain was buried under layers and layers of self-defense coding to keep him from crashing in an endless loop.

Jazz turned as much as he could, clung to Prowl's arm, and his screams echoed through the deserted halls, as Prowl shook in complete silence.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

It was three and a half orns by Jazz's chronometer when he found the strength to nudge Prowl into moving. At some point late in the first orn they'd switched places as Prowl's grief at losing their third fully sank in. The first sob from the normally stoic mech had startled Jazz, but he'd quickly placed it and realized that his mate needed him to be strong. He wasn't sure where he'd found the strength to hold Prowl and whisper that they'd survive, that the pain would lessen, but he had. Prowl had needed him too.

At three orns Jazz knew the worst was over for his love. Though the grieving was far from over, the scars of the loss likely to last the rest of their functioning, Prowl had finally stopped sobbing and keening and the emotional shutdown cycles had spaced out enough that they could get actual recharge. It wasn't good recharge, but it was something.

"Energon?" Prowl asked, or offered. It was difficult to tell the sub-harmonics with his vocalizations as static-heavy as they were.

"Yeah," Jazz whispered, and pulled two cubes automatically, handing one to Prowl. "I have plenty."

They were huddled together against the wall, and hadn't moved in those three and a half orns except to hold each other and sob or scream or keen.

He stared at the cube, tilting it in his hand, gaze fixed on the liquid, and then an almost hysterical giggle escape his vocalizer. "Grabbed enough for three before I left. More for us."

Prowl's vents gave a hiccup, but he nodded. "How much of the weapons and credit stash did you grab?"

"Everything but the larger blasters and the downstairs caches," Jazz said automatically, a response pulled as factual data and delivered as such, emotionless. He glanced up as a rumble echoed down from the surface. The explosions and ground-shaking missile hits had stopped about an orn previously, but the occasional deep sounds, probably buildings collapsing that hadn't been felled in the initial attack, continued. "He's really-?" Jazz asked suddenly, then cut off abruptly, shook his head, and tried again. "Couldn't have-mistaken, somehow? And maybe-"

"I'm sorry love," Prowl embraced him tightly, the energon forgotten for the moment. "I was holding him when his spark faded."

"Right, yeah," Jazz said, barely reacting, like he couldn't feel Prowl at all. "I um..." He giggled again. "I was practicing, for that show when you both came home. And I decided to wash, washed everything away, the rest of him that was still in me, just," he waved aimlessly with his hand, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. "Away."

Prowl simply nodded, recognizing the hysteria for what it was. His singular goal became keeping Jazz close, preferably where they were, until he calmed down enough to be semi-rational again.

He stayed still, just watching, even as Jazz stood, ready to grab him if needed, but instead his mate just paced up and down a short length, quiet giggles growing louder and louder until he was laughing outright, leaning against the wall. "Gone," he managed through the laughter, and tipped the cube, watching it pour out onto the floor. "Gone, just like that, just gone, he's..." The cube emptied, the laughter cut abruptly, and he shuddered, staring at the puddle. He went back to Prowl and sank down next to him, still again. "He's ... gone." Not even phrased as a question as it had been the many other times he'd voiced those two small words.

"Yes. We are alone again," Prowl whispered painfully. He tried not to think about the spilled energon. His surviving mate needed him, not anger or reminders of failing.

Jazz nodded, optics locked on the bright pink shine before he pulled another cube and held it tightly. "We survive," he murmured.

"We survive, and we destroy them," Prowl growled and picked up his energon. "No Decepticon will live when we're done."

Jazz's engine echoed the growl, deep and dangerous. "We start with him," he snarled.

"From top to bottom," Prowl agreed. "Every mecha that supported the cause will fall. I want their camp to be as barren as Praxus."

Jazz shuddered and nodded, leaning against Prowl. "For Radiance," he said, holding his cube out, vocalizer cracking with static on the designation, and before he could drink any of it, started sobbing again. "Radiance," he moaned, huddling in on himself.

Prowl gently extracted the energon and subspaced it until they could drink it and focused on holding and being held by his mate as grief welled up inside them both once more. "For Radiance. For us."

The recharge that followed, when they had finally worn themselves down again after sobbing together, was longer and deeper than any of the previous restless cycles had been, nearly half an orn while traumatized processors attempted to cope with the agonizing reality that a mate was gone, the triad was gone.

When they booted, fuel alerts were starting to flash, frames and energy worn out just from the mental process of handling so much grief without crashing, Prowl's especially, and they drank in silence.

"How's your coding?" Jazz murmured after a while.

"Strained, but holding," Prowl murmured, his optics dim as energon was routed by priority to processors first. "We'll both have moments of instability for some vorns to come, but the worst is likely over."

"Worst," Jazz whispered, looking at the opposite wall without really seeing it. "I can't imagine anything worse than facing a future without one of you."

"Facing it without either of you," Prowl murmured. "That would be worse."

Jazz nodded and leaned against his mate, smiling wryly. "I wouldn't face such a future."

"I know," Prowl murmured. "I won't leave my frame until the job is done."

Jazz was quiet for a klik, then sighed exaggeratedly. "Well when you put it like that ... I suppose I wouldn't either."

"There's no need for that, love," Prowl kissed him gently. "You deserve the peace deactivation will bring."

"No more than you," Jazz murmured. "I would at least hear his screams before letting go, then let the break take me. You don't ... believe his spark is waiting for us, do you."

"I haven't believed in Primus or that sparks go somewhere in a long time, Jazz." Prowl reminded him softly as he rested their forehelms together. "I don't know if his spark is waiting for yours, but mine won't go there when my time is up."

"If he is waiting, he is waiting for both of us," Jazz said softly, hand pressed to Prowl's face. "If he is not, then at least it will be over for all of us." The first shudders of another sob went through his frame.

Prowl was quietly still for a long time before he reluctantly nodded. "Yes."

They sat in silence for a long time after that, Prowl as still as if he was being held in stasis, Jazz shivering through the agonizing, frame-wracking waves of grief, each one feeling endless until it was suddenly gone, and they grew shorter and shorter before the shivering stopped with a soft, empty sigh.

"It's been quiet up there for a while," he whispered.

"Yes," Prowl agreed. "We should salvage what we can, see if there are survivors."

Jazz sighed heavily and nodded. "At the very least, some of those blasters I left shouldn't be found by untrained mecha." With effort, he forced himself up, helping Prowl with him, and they began the long, slow, weary walk up to the surface, prepared for anything, because nothing could be worse than what was already behind.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

It had taken them almost three joors to shoot and dig their way out from beneath the abandoned Ops facility, answering Jazz's question as to why no one else had fled inside, when they realized the first layers of debris had likely collapsed over the entrance just kliks after them.

After that, walking through the city became a surreal exercise in scanning the ruined, smoldering piles for something even remotely familiar while trying not to look too hard at the littering of grayed frames that seemed to be everywhere. An arm here, a leg there, a bent and burnt doorwing with the remnants of courting painting impaled on a shard of jagged metal.

They were starting to climb over a hill that had formed from wreckage shored up against a building when Jazz stopped and looked down, then pointed. "Look."

Prowl followed his finger and saw a grayed Praxian, frame slumped against the wall, deactivated Seekers and Kaonites in a semi-circle around him. He'd been backed up and cornered, and from the looks of it, he'd taken plenty with him. "Charade," Prowl said, when recognition clicked.

Jazz nodded, and kept climbing.

It took them five joors to travel the distance they once could have driven in a groon, and they knew they were going to have to stop for rest before they even got near their old home, so Prowl had chosen the precinct, with its enforced lower levels more likely to have survived, and to be a safe place from scavengers. They were almost there when they heard voices, and saw movement, and quickly ducked down, watching.

When the familiar, deep rumble became more audible and the owner walked around the corner, Prowl relaxed.

"Mortar," Prowl greeted before moving, drawing attention while still protected from reflexes that were no doubt still on edge.

Mortar's head jerked up with recognition and he quickly zeroed in on the source, the two that were slowly lifting themselves up from where they'd hidden, and a huge beaming smile split his otherwise weary face. "Primus below," he rumbled, gesturing for them to come down. "You three made it!" As only two stood upright, he hesitated. "Radiance...?"

Jazz shook his head.

"We have hunting to do," Prowl rumbled darkly, a tone and harmonic that promised very un-Enforcer-like things being in store for the targets.

Mortar's face fell and he was back to looking exhausted and drawn. "Oh," he said, simply, and nodded, and once they had climbed their way down to him, teeked a field that was just too numb and overwhelmed to respond properly. "Been comming everyone in this precinct," Mortar explained. "Yours never went through, I thought..."

"We sheltered in the old Ops base," Jazz explained. "Deep enough the comms were still blocked." He looked at the pile of rubble that had once been the Enforcer office.

Mortar heaved a sigh, following his gaze. "Yeah," he said. "But the basement's still good. Bring everyone I find back here," he waved vaguely at the pair of mechlings that was still shivering behind him. "Got almost two dozen with you two now."

"How are you doing for supplies?" Prowl asked, Enforcer training kicking in to the fore.

"Decently," Mortar said. "Energon isn't too hard to find, you just have to dig a bit. One of the distribution stations wasn't damaged too badly, so once we broke in, we found a good amount. Hope you don't have injuries, haven't got a medic or anything like that. The hospital's leveled, got hit more than once."

"Outside aid?" Jazz asked.

"I've heard some comm chatter, but it's just a handful of mecha," he shook his helm. "Nothing organized or of a scale to matter much."

"We are not badly damaged physically," Prowl didn't need to hide the fact that emotionally they were as wrung out as Mortar, if not worse. "I have more medical training than most Enforcers," he offered.

"Couple could use it," Mortar sighed. "Come on, I'll show you how to get in." He waved to the mechlings to join them and they latched on close to the large Praxian, huddled together, looking around at everything with huge, shocked optics.

The "entrance" had been dug and blasted away, with a makeshift ladder having been fashioned from piping jammed horizontally through the hole that then dropped down into a stairwell, and from there, the sturdy build of the precinct had kept everything lower intact.

"We're just sort of using the SWAT bullpen to gather," Mortar explained apologetically as they made their way down. "It's the biggest open space down here. But mecha have been picking closets and offices as their own space. Dragged the berths in from all over, there's a couple extra still but not really big enough for two. You could push a few together."

Prowl nodded. "We'll manage," he promised, to tell his boss that he didn't need to worry about them.

"We've recharged on worse," Jazz said softly as they entered the Ops headquarters.

"Here we are," Mortar said, forcing a cheerful note into his voice for the mechlings. "Everyone, this is Pantera, Saxo, Weave, and Bluestreak. They'll be staying here too. Pantera knows a bit about repairing, so let him know if you need anything looked at."

The thirteen other mecha inside greet them warmly, especially the pair of mechlings, offering them places to sit around where they were watching newsfeeds on the screen that Radiance had used for reviewing surveillance with his team.

"I'm sorry," Mortar said quietly, every part of his frame looking worn out. "I'm going to go lie down, it's been a long orn."

Jazz scanned the survivors. "This is everyone?"

"Not everyone, a few just keep to themselves. Especially-" He broke off and shook his head. "Gonna go lie down with Gearshaft. You two know your way around." He walked off, each step slow, careful, and lumbering.

A femme approached from the group, smiling hesitantly, holding her arm in her hand. "Something lodged in my shoulder, Mortar pulled it out but I still can't move this arm?" she said, sounding hopeful.

"I'm going to go find an empty room for us," Jazz murmured to Prowl, who nodded and found a place to focus on the repairs.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

It was a full half decaorn before Jazz and Prowl reached their former home, delayed by Prowl's sense of duty and even worse conditions as the reached what had once been the nicer section of the city where they'd lived.

"It's fitting, in a way," Prowl's voice was low and distant as they surveyed the rubble of their home with Radiance, the place where they had been part of a traid. It wasn't really directed at Jazz, but it was too.

Jazz looked at him for a moment before he knelt down and picked through some of the wreckage. By some miracle-or curse-it looked like a missile had hit directly above their level, and the rest of the building had collapsed in on itself from beneath, leaving the wreckage of their home scattered, but near the top. "This is weird," he muttered, pulling out a shard from a statue that had stood in their berthroom and staring at it.

"How so?" Prowl asked from where he was digging out what he hoped was one of their weapon lockers.

"Feels like I just booted up, right here, and we made love, and everything was how it's supposed to be, like this shouldn't be real," Jazz said. He shook himself and looked around, trying to guess the placement of the berth and making his way over to it and the main cache they'd kept behind where he'd left the larger weapons. "Didn't think that was going to be the last time I'd touch him." He huffed a laugh. "Wouldn't have let go so easily."

"Neither would I," Prowl agreed with a half choked sound. "If I'd had any idea this was coming today I would have knocked him out if that was what it took to keep him safe. But we didn't, and this is real."

Jazz nodded, shuddered, and stopped digging, curling in on himself. "I keep thinking, if I had tried harder, pushed more, you would have gotten to the base sooner, not stopped to help mecha. And then I realize that wouldn't have been the Radiance or the ... the Prowl that I bonded with." He hissed softly, shook his head, and set back into the digging with a focused determination.

"No, he wouldn't be Radiance if he'd looked out for himself first," Prowl held back the pained keens as his hands trembled, trying to work the lock on the safe that had survived the fall. "We're going to get the monsters, every last one of them."

Jazz nodded, looked over, saw the way Prowl's fingers were shaking and rose, going to him and wrapping arms around him, pulling him tight against his chassis before reaching down to cover his hands and still them. "No matter how long it takes."

"Yes," Prowl leaned into the contact. His field gradually settled in the close presence of his mate. "He could not break us. This will not. Megatron will fall. His spark will expire in our berth."

Jazz's engines rumbled with deep, dark desire. "And the Seekers who followed him?"

"All who follow him," Prowl hissed, too angered to care about kin. It was his mate that had fallen. There were no closer ties than that bond.

Jazz nodded once, deeply satisfied with that answer, before they undid the lock together and opened the safe, weapons and ammunition cells jumbled out of their former perfect order, but all intact. "We stay here long enough to help, and then we hunt," he said in a low, steady voice.

"Agreed," Prowl nodded. "It will be a long hunt, one with little income but what we steal. If the large cache survived and we find it, we'll have the equipment we need to do well and travel reasonably light."

"We've gotten through worse," Jazz said and claimed a hard, demanding kiss from his surviving mate before pulling back and putting a finger under his chin, tipping his face up and meeting his optics. "We sorcel, we break any comm links we had from this life. It's just us and prey."

"Agreed." Prowl approved of the plan and turned his full focus on preparing for it.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

"You're sure you have to go?" Mortar rumbled quietly, looking at the pair after their announcement that they'd be leaving Praxus. The sentiment was echoed in the bleak, but ever hopeful optics of the survivors around them. It seemed that no matter how uneasy it made the others to know that they had survived the death of their bondmate, Prowl's skill at repairs was far more important to them.

"We're sure," Jazz said, fingers laced with Prowl's, holding tightly. "We can't stay here."

"But we like you, we need you, you're Praxian!" one of the mechlings, Bluestreak, rushed towards Prowl to embrace him, every span of him quivering. "You can't leave. We need you."

Prowl froze on contact, staring down at the mechling that had latched onto him with a mixture of confusion and worry. Jazz revved his engine in a deep, sharp growl, doorwings lifting into an aggressive stance as he shifted to face the mechling directly.

To his credit, Bluestreak squeaked, trembled, but just clung tighter to Prowl, facing the larger, more dangerous mech without backing down. "Y-you're not Praxian, not really, I heard your doorwings are cosmetic and you aren't even from here so maybe you don't understand what it's like but we stay together we have to!"

Jazz looked at him for another moment, then his expression softened and his doorwings lowered back down and he offered a small, sad smile. "I know what that's like. But I also know that you are all gonna be just fine." He put his hand on Bluestreak's shoulder and squeezed. "Praxians are survivors, and you'll all stay together, but we have some hunting to do." The smile shifted into an almost feral grin. "Gonna find some payback."

That accomplished what direct threat couldn't and Bluestreak skittered away to hide behind Mortar.

"I'll send a message or help if we find anything to send," Prowl promised. A small part of him mused at how smoothly the lie came. Once they were outside the city line, Saxo and Pantera would disappear. Just one more set of designations and frames in an ever-growing list of them. "We have work to do before we can join him."

Mortar just nodded, frame sagged and heavy. Grief had started chipping away at the older mech already, much faster than the rest of them, and the loss of just one more of his mecha, just one more Praxian, was only adding to that weight. "Be safe," was all he said.

"Be strong," Prowl replied, then turned to walk away with Jazz at his side. It would take orns to reach the city line and driving conditions, so leaving their old lives behind was a slow and painful process, but eventually they reached the outskirts, then the wall, and then the city was behind them, and they never looked back.