[A very distressed looking Sam Witwicky is fighting with his device right now, jamming buttons with far more force than is really necessary, as a bored looking TransTech from processing looks on. Apparently, he’s not all that interested in the paperwork or the comm tutorial, or he might have noticed that he’d turned the feed on.]
Are you serious?
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[Have a friendly smile anyway. It sucks to meet this way, but what can you do?]
Name's Jazz, nice to meet you.
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[Okay, bad topic. Let's try something else.]
Wait, hold up. Jazz?
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And trust me, we all have better things to be doing.
[Like, you know, not being offlined by Insecticons.]
Yup, Jazz.
[Head-tilt. You say that like you recognize his name, but he's definitely sure he doesn't know you.]
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[He definitely doesn't sound convinced.]
But I can't just sit here. Two years? Two years, and everyone could be dead. Or worse.
[Not that anyone here seemed to care. What's a bunch of dead humans?]
... You look a lot less. Uh. Silver.
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[Not that Jazz knows that this is actually true, but if it keeps people from panicking while they're here, then he might as well pass it along. He's going to continue to hope that it's true; it's all he has.]
Silver? I've never been... Oh! The Tyran Jazz must be yours. I'm universal stream Primax 1005.19 Gamma, completely different universe.
[Have a grin, like that solves all your problems.]
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[He'd still have the Decepticon hitchhiker, but if he knew about Sentinel's intentions before he attacked Ironhide. Before he'd tried to protect him...]
Tyra-what?
Let me get this straight. You're Jazz, but... you're not Jazz.
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[He shrugs. Jazz has no idea if that's actually true--he doesn't exactly trust Transtech Starscream.]
Tyran. It's what we call anyone from your universe so when we're talking about someone with an alternate, everyone knows which one. I'm Jazz, just not the one you know.
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