Sorry for the long wait, I hope you enjoy.
Chapter six Curse of knowledge
Jazz entered Prowl's office.
"What can I help you with?" asked the Praxian.
"Where did the Matrix of Leadership get put?" the saboteur asked.
"I had Sixgun fly to the core and give it back to Primus, to restore Cybertron," said Prowl.
"When?"
"When you, Iron Blade, Skyshadow, and Bug left to go kill Shockwave."
"Don't you think that should have been done publicly?" asked Jazz raising an optic ridge.
"Maybe, but everyone was off on other semi-important tasks, so I found Sixgun and told him to do it. Also, you allowed Bug to slaughter Shockwave in one of his labs while many, myself included, would have liked to see the purple menace publicly executed for his terrible deeds."
"Far enough, I suppose," said Jazz, still not sure about it.
"Have we had any luck tracking down the Decepticons who escaped the brig several orns ago?" asked the tactician.
"No, we haven't, but we are working on it," replied the second-in-command of the Autobots.
"Hopefully we find them soon. It could be very unfortunate if they attempted an attack on Autobots HQ."
"I agree," said Jazz. "So I guess since all of the council are dead, you technically lead Cybertron."
"Technically, yes, as much as I don't like the thought of it, it is the reality of the situation. Though I do like to think that we sort of share that position of leadership," Prowl said as he walked over and stood in front of his comrade.
"Yeah, I suppose we do," Jazz agreed.
Prowl smiled, "Good to know my best friend always has my back." He put his hand on Jazz's shoulder.
"Yep, I'll always be here, Prowl," said Jazz smiling back.
The tactician removed his hand from Jazz's shoulder, turned, and sat in his chair, "Every orn I feel a bit weaker."
"Ya still checking in with Ratchet every orn?" asked Jazz.
"Yes, I am. He gave me another booster, but it seems to help less and less every time I'm given one."
"Hopefully Ratchet and Whirr find an antidote soon."
"Yes," said Prowl as he stared blankly at the wall. "Hopefully soon."
/
Just a Mirage
A gift fic by space-blue-spirit
Mirage walked down the street, pausing when he caught sight of his reflection.
His reflection stared back. Then, it grinned suddenly, sharp fangs bared while purple optics glowed. Mirage took a step back, blinking and shaking his helm. He then cautiously looked back at the shop window. His terrocon self had turned back to his normal, haunted self. Fearful golden optics stared back instead of empty purple.
Pausing, he thought, staring at the sidewalk.
Jazz had asked him to try and stay visible more often. Ratchet had asked him to try to use his outlier ability less. For his sake.
To try for them.
With a shaky vent, Mirage phased to invisible and breathed a quiet vent of relief when his reflection disappeared too.
Maybe no one had guessed why he stayed invisible so much. But they might eventually.
Everyone had bad memories of the war, everyone suffered from some sort of flashbacks at some time he figured.
The former spy shuddered as he walked quickly on his way. He couldn't imagine what it was like for those who had been terrorized longer. He'd been the last and the shortest length to suffer it.
Maybe he was just weak.
Steeldust had had nightmares and he couldn't handle... this.
Mirage would stay invisible all the time if it didn't wear him out. And if Jazz didn't nag him about it.
If he couldn't see his own reflection, he couldn't see the demons that haunt him either.
They didn't bother him then. Except for the ghost of Hun-Gurrr's voice in his helm sometimes.
If no one can see him, no one can know how badly he's really doing.
If no one can see him, then no one can hurt him again.
He knew.
He knew it wasn't healthy.
He knew he was becoming more and more like his name.
He was becoming just a mirage.
End of gift fic.
/
Jazz left Autobot Headquarters to go check on Bluestreak.
He did this at least once every orn since the young Praxian had recovered enough to go live on his own.
Ratchet wanted Bluestreak to stay at Autobot Headquarters to keep an optic on him, but Bluestreak wanted to live alone. So Jazz set him up in a place near HQ so that he would be close by if he needed help.
When Jazz got to Bluestreak's house he saw that the front door was a little out of sorts, like as if some large mech had kicked it open and then attempted to close it again.
The saboteur ran up to the door, gun in hand, and slowly opened it.
It was dark inside the small house, and the place was a bit messy. Jazz feared the worst as he called out, "Bluestreak, are you home?"
No answer came.
Jazz checked the first door on his right, but it was untouched, so he closed the room door and moved on to the next one.
The saboteur looked down and saw what looked like energon that had run under the door.
Jazz knew what had happened. He opened the door and saw a lifeless Praxian lying motionless on the floor. Energon was everywhere, Jazz stared down at the lifeless husk of Bluestreak. Then, noticing the knife sticking up out of the young mech's chest, he quickly walked over and knelt beside him.
There was a note pinned on the end of the hilt.
Jazz pulled it off and read it. Immediately he called Autobots Headquarters, "Bluestreak's been assassinated."
/
As Bluestreak's coffin was being covered with metal gravel, Prowl and Jazz stood looking down at their former comrade.
"He was the youngest of my brothers," said Prowl as he let a few tears stream down his faceplate.
"Ah know," said Jazz sympathetically.
After Bluestreak's stone was placed over his grave, only the Praxian and the Polyhexian were standing there.
They stood there for what seemed like a long time, before Jazz handed Prowl a note.
Prowl looked at Jazz and then at the note. As the tactician took the note from Jazz he asked, "What's this?"
"It was on the knife that Bluestreak was stabbed with," the saboteur replied.
Prowl read the note aloud, "Stop looking for us, or this won't be the last surprise you'll find."
"Ah assume one of the Decepticons killed Bluestreak and put that note where Ah found it," Jazz explained.
"The only Decepticons that escaped prison were Vortex and Brunt, so it must have been them," said Prowl as he crushed the note in his hand.
"Or it was Starscream," said the saboteur.
"Not likely, we haven't been hunting him in any way. We've kept our distance from Vos, and didn't bring him in because he helped us on Lumen," the tactician explained as they started to return to Autobot headquarters.
"It was likely Vortex then because Brunt would not have used a knife to kill Bluestreak," Jazz pointed out.
"I agree," said Prowl, "We should get Whirr and his Cyberbots to help us hunt them down."
/
A gift written by space-blue-spirit.
A ghostly figure stood beyond the veil of the living world near the funeral. Angry optics blazed brighter than normal.
He'd found his friend, lost and scared and alone after he'd been killed. After calming Bluestreak down a little, Steeldust had led him to the edge of the Allspark. As far as he could go without joining it himself. Just enough to get his dear friend to another one. Smokescreen had been horrified to know what had happened to his baby brother.
It still boiled Steeldust's energon. Not that he really had any anymore that was.
As the last few mourners left the new grave, the young ghost stared towards the Well. Clenching his fists at his side, he thought to himself for a bit before leaving.
The pull to come home to the Allspark hadn't really hit him yet. No more than the faint little whisper he'd always had in the back of his mind and spark since he'd died. Nothing like what the Primes told him would happen when his time was up watching the mortals. He could change his mind anytime they'd said, but he wouldn't.
He was supposed to be able to help they told him.
"Then why haven't you shown me how?" Steeldust murmured to the breeze. "Another friend, another comrade who tried to do the right thing, is dead."
Brutally murdered in his own home.
Home was supposed to be safe.
Bluestreak had not been safe. He would have been terrified.
With a grimace and a low growl, Steeldust turned and stalked off. He'd already said his sorry's and temporary goodbyes to those who's mortal frames rested here and on Lumen.
There was the still alive to watch over. And hopefully help.
Somehow.
Steeldust had heard stories. Of vengeful ghosts that wouldn't and couldn't be put to rest until they'd been satisfied or their work was done.
Just stories. Just legends.
The young ghost let a smirk twitch the corners of his mouth upwards.
Being a story and a legend wasn't new to him now was it?
If that's what he was supposed to become again...
Well, it was a good thing he had practice.
End of gift fic.
/
As Whirr was walking back to Autobot headquarters, he got a comm ping from Viper. Whirr waited until he was well away from anyone before answering the comm, "Yes?"
"Whirr how nice to hear your voice box. I was calling to request that you would sell me your Cyberbots."
Whirr immediately answered, "They're not for sale, Viper."
"I see," said the leader of the Cyber-Hounds Syndicate, "Then sell me the plans, so I can make my own."
"It's not just about attachments, Viper. I know what you want them for," said Whirr.
"You would be out of debt. I hear Cyberbots aren't cheap to make," said Viper with a smirk.
"No amount of credits would make my conscience let me recharge every off-cycle if I sold you those plans," Whirr explained.
"Does your being in debt up to your audios let you recharge every off-cycle?" asked Viper with a frown.
"Yes, because I did it for a good reason."
"This is a great reason to sell me your Cyberbots! You would be out of debt with plenty of credits to live the rest of your life off of."
"It's not happening Viper. They're my creations, and I can do what I want with them, so I will never sell you them or their plans."
Viper waited a few astrokliks before responding. "Fine, but just remember, you're not the only Cybertronian cursed with knowledge." Then Viper ended the comm from his side, leaving Whirr to listen to the static in his audio while he thought about what Viper meant.
"You're not the only one cursed with knowledge."
"What did he mean?" the scientist asked himself as he turned off his comm and continued to walk away from the cemetery.
Whirr knew plenty of mecha that were so called cursed with knowledge, but why would Viper be talking about them.
Suddenly, Whirr froze as he realized who Viper meant.
Whirr said under his breath, "You're not the only one cursed with the knowledge to build Cybers,…Vortex knows."
Wide eyed, Whirr hurriedly returned to Autobot HQ to contemplate his, his brother's, and Viper's next move.
(Credit music is: One Man At A Time by Rupert Gregson-Williams.)
A gift written by space-blue-spirit.
A silent shadow appeared in the office doorframe. Jazz didn't bother looking up in alarm, he knew it was friendly.
"What's up?" he asked the young femme.
Skyshadow crossed her servos, optics slightly narrowed. "Why do I get the feeling you've either lost trust in me or are hiding something? Or both?"
That got Jazz's full attention. His helm jerked upwards from his desk to meet her gaze. "Huh?"
Calculating emerald optics met his visor. "Just because you don't tell us everything doesn't mean we don't hear about it, Jazz. Mirage and I were in your top ranks for reasons." She shoved off the doorframe and walked into the office, placing her hands on his desk to look down at him. "I know you are sending someone out after the escaped Decepticons. But not after Starscream. I also know you aren't sending either of us because you didn't tell us personally. We both want to know why, Jazz. What are you and Prowl hiding?"
The saboteur chuckled lightly. "This isn't usually your job, Sky... You're doing all the interrogation now?"
A quick grin that showed off a couple seeker fanged denta before her mask was back on.
"You and I both know why that is," Skyshadow said quietly. "Steeldust is gone. So is Hound who'd tried to get you to calm down when needed. Mirage... Mirage has his good orns and bad ones. Me? I'm the most stable out of all of us ops left which is probably not a good thing." She paused to let out a laugh and straightened, giving him a critical look. "Seekers are the hunters, Jazz. Some are also good negotiators, but you know how I do that. All sharp edges. Like Steeldust. Remember what our talents are and figure out how you want to use them. Before you run yourself into the ground."
With that, she left as suddenly and silently as she'd come.
Jazz grinned to himself, though it didn't reach his optics.
He should have known his ops would find out about the Decepticon hunt. And that he'd be confronted on it.
The only reason Skyshadow hadn't been more forceful and demanding for answers, he knew, was because of the recent death of Bluestreak.
Even Skyshadow, who wasn't the best at emotions in general, let alone not allowing herself to mask away and lock hers when not needed, had the sympathy to let him grieve.
Jazz would have to thank her later. She was a good agent. He also needed to give her and Mirage an explanation.
Before they took things into their own hands.
End of gift fic.
Thanks for reading!