Forests of the Night - Part 1
Disclaimer: Transformers is the property of Hasbro et al.
Title: Forests of the Night (Fearful Symmetry, Arc One)
Rating and Warnings: T (brief violence/morbidity and some dark themes, "OC" that isn't really an OC)
Timeframe/Setting: G1 with bits of Beast Wars and a few little things from Prime and movie!verse, very slightly AU; Cybertron, early war
Summary: Jazz wasn't expecting a rescue, and he certainly wasn't expecting a rescue quite like this one.
A/N: I once had a plotbunny that underwent mitosis and became two plotbunnylets. One grew up to be the Blood Ties collection (which I am still working on, by the way) and the other became the Fearful Symmetry series (tentatively a trilogy). It is less formally known as the "ecosystems, dammit!" fic, because I find this aspect of Cybertron to be woefully under-represented in both canon and fanon.
Also available on FF.net.
Arc One, Part One
Tyger! Tyger! Burning bright
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
(from "The Tyger" by William Blake)
Someone was watching him.
Jazz could feel the tickle of scans across his plating even with his sensory net dulled and clouded. It took him a while to summon the energy to online his visor and glare at his visitor.
It wasn't Starscream or Shockwave, as he had dreaded. It wasn't even Mirage or Bumblebee, as he hadn't really allowed himself to hope. It was an oversized catbot. He struggled to focus. The catbot's dull black and grey plating made it difficult to spot in the darkness of the brig. It was sitting upright on its haunches with its tail wrapped primly around its feet. And it was staring at him as if it were trying to bore a hole in his armor.
Jazz realized that someone was pinging one of his more secure comm channels. He wasn't stupid enough to answer it.
The catbot narrowed its golden optics.
"Y'know," Jazz croaked. His vocalizer was full of static but speaking took his mind off of the thousand and one things that were currently wrong in Jazz's life. "Maybe yer boss . . . didn't 'splain it too well . . . but keepin' watch don't mean . . . ya have t' lit'rally . . . watch me."
The catbot continued to stare. The bars of his cell continued to hum with energy. The cuffs continued to pinch his wrists no matter how he squirmed. The stranger continued to ping his comm.
"So you got th' . . . short end of the stick . . . huh? I don't feel much like . . . tryin' to escape right now . . . sorry if I bore ya."
The end of the catbot's tail twitched.
"Regular chatterbox, ain't ya?"
One of the catobot's lip plates lifted to expose a set of polished steel teeth. The pinging became, if possible, even more annoying.
"Oh, you gotta be kiddin' me . . ." Jazz growled. "Is that you?"
The pinging abruptly stopped. The catbot narrowed its optics again. The pinging resumed.
"Oh, for the love of . . ." Jazz sagged as much as the chains would allow. He was strung up on the wall like some sort of macabre decoration and his feet could barely reach the floor. "What d' you want?"
The catbot stood up and revved its engine in a soft growl. Its whole tail was lashing.
"Fine," Jazz snarled. He wasn't sure if it was boredom or exhaustion that made him reckless, but he flung open the comm line. ::How did you get this frequency?::
::If you will kindly stop throwing a temper-tantrum, we will leave,:: a smooth, deep male voice overrode him. ::Now, please be quiet.::
Jazz was shocked into obedience. The catbot turned and stalked into the guardsmech's booth just past his cell. After a long moment, the humming bars went silent. After another, the cell door unlocked and slid open. The catbot reappeared.
::How did you get this frequency?:: Jazz demanded as the catbot approached.
The catobt walked right up to him, reared up on its hind legs, and planted its forepaws on the wall on either side of his head. Jazz rocked back on his heels as much as the chains would allow. His hands curled into fists.
::Expose your medical port.::
Jazz's intake sputtered. ::Excuse me?::
::Expose your medical port. Please.:: The catbot didn't even twitch.
::Exactly how stupid do you think I am?::
The catbot leaned in close and Jazz's processor took the opportunity to remind him that the critter was really, really big for a cassette. And it was very, very unimpressed with his bravado. ::I have made too many sacrifices and come too far to leave you here,:: it said. ::You are coming back if I have to drag you the entire way, but I believe we would both prefer that you walk. Now, expose your medical port.::
Jazz's sluggish processor was trying furiously to catch up. He was prepared for torture. He had braced himself for threats and pain and trickery. But these weren't the lies he was expecting.
::How did you get this frequency?:: he asked again, faintly this time.
The catbot sighed and briefly closed its optics. ::I was given all the information about you that I would require when I was given this assignment. I will explain when I can, Jazz - but for now, time is of the essence.::
Jazz fought not to show his surprise when it used his real name. The Decepticons knew him as Solstice, a rookie spy sent to gather intelligence. In reality, the Autobots had all the intel they needed on this particular base, and they had sent one of their more experienced saboteurs to blow it sky-high. But the 'Cons didn't need to know that. As long as they didn't know who he really was, they wouldn't put as much effort into guarding his cell or cracking his firewalls. If they had somehow figured it out, this was certainly an odd way of showing it.
After a brief staring contest, Jazz shifted his chest plating to reveal a medical port. He did not expose the port on his neck that connected to his processor. The one in his chest linked to his physical systems, but those had already been hacked and overridden. It wasn't like the catbot could make things worse. He hoped.
The catbot placed a heavy paw against Jazz's chest and a cable in its wrist connected to the port. His firewalls went berserk, of course, but the catbot sidestepped several of them even as Jazz shut them down. Jazz was impressed. A little. The catbot bowed its head, concentrating, and one by one Jazz's systems began to come online.
The catbot disconnected the cable and reached for the cuffs on Jazz's wrists. Jazz held himself still as cool steel talons brushed his plating and squawked as he fell in a heap at the catbot's feet. The infuriating critter sat down and watched him placidly as his systems finished rebooting.
Jazz gingerly got to his feet. He ran three internal scans and found nothing amiss. He flicked a suspicious glance at the catbot.
::Well?::
::Let's blow this joint. Where are my weapons?::
::No time for that,:: the catbot said. ::Come.::
Jazz staggered after him out of the cell. The catbot crouched beside the brig doors with its head tilted and face blank. ::The corridor is empty. Hurry.::
Jazz ducked into the guardsmech's booth. He crouched next to the cabinet on the far wall and began picking the lock.
::Jazz - !:: The catbot's voice sounded strangled.
Jazz chuckled softly to himself. ::Just a klik, mech - kitty - whatever you are. My favorite energon knives are in there.::
::We don't have time for this!::
::Cool yer jets, kitty.::
He could practically feel the catbot growling as it stalked up behind him. ::We have a very narrow window of time, here, Jazz,:: it said icily. ::Don't think I wasn't serious about dragging you out of here.::
The cabinet clicked open. ::Yah-huh, drag away, kitty. But I ain't goin' nowhere with you without these babies.:: He tucked the faintly glowing blades into his subspace - they'd go back in their usual hiding places later, when the catbot wasn't watching - and collected a few more interesting-looking weapons while he was there. His explosives weren't there, but he hadn't harbored much hope for them anyway. There were three emergency energon rations, though. He quickly downed one of them and the other two joined the weapons in his subspace. He straightened and grinned down at the catbot. ::Lead on.::
The catbot bared its teeth again, then turned and left the booth. ::Try to keep up.::
Wonder of wonders, the corridor was silent and deserted. Jazz was expecting alarms or guards or Megatron himself. He wasn't sure the day could get any weirder. The catbot was a shadow ahead of him. They wound through the dark, twisting corridors without encountering anyone. The brig was in one of the lowest levels of the base, but they worked their way down and down for quite some time before they began to climb again.
Jazz could hardly believe it when they ducked through a hatch and found themselves outside the walls surrounding the compound.
Jazz turned and looked back. "Huh," he said. "Coulda used that goin' in and saved us both a lot of trouble."
::Hush,:: the catbot said. ::Follow me.::
Jazz hurried after the retreating form before it vanished in the darkness. His suspicions of an elaborate trap faded with each step he took away from the brig. Not that he trusted the catbot, of course, but this seemed a little extreme, especially for a 'Con ploy. He felt better with his knives back on his person, one way or the other.
The area surrounding the base had been blasted to slag. It was a satellite base far from any major city, but the 'Cons were taking no chances. The surrounding wilderness had been leveled. There was one road leading in or out and it was high on an embankment with spotlights at regular intervals. Everywhere else looked like a gently rolling plain in the darkness, but in truth it was riddled with trenches, potholes, and craters. The ground was littered with rubble and debris. Oil collected in slimy puddles. Some tar pits bubbled foul gasses into the air, while the more treacherous ones built up a semi-solid film on the surface to fool the unwary. The underground was a warren of caves and tunnels that often had roofs that looked sturdy from above but would crumble under the slightest pressure. It had taken Jazz the better part of two days to approach the base, bolting from one hidey-hole to another like a petrorabbit. Going into that in the dark was suicide.
The catbot didn't even slow down.
::Are you crazy?:: Jazz hissed. ::Where are you going?::
::Into the wild,:: the catbot said without turning. ::Follow closely.::
Jazz stopped in his tracks. ::No way, kitty.::
The catbot stopped and glared at him over its shoulder.
::Look, I appreciate you getting' me out and all, I really do,:: Jazz said, ::but if you wanted to kill me, you coulda just slit my lines back in that cell. No need to get sadistic.::
::I do not want to kill you, Jazz. Quite the contrary. But we must be far away from here by sunrise, or we will both die,:: the catbot said.
There was an intensity in its voice that hadn't been there before and, against his better judgment, Jazz felt himself being swayed. ::What do you mean?:: he said slowly.
The catbot flattened its audios against its head. ::We don't have time for this!::
Jazz crossed his arms defiantly. ::Make time. An' if you wanna try draggin' me, be my guest. But unless you think you can haul me outta here when you're in six different pieces, you'd best start talkin'.:: He wasn't sure he could do it. The catbot was at least as big as he was, equipped with teeth and talons and Primus knows what other kind of weapons. It also hadn't spent the last five days - or was it six? - chained to a wall in a Decepticon cell with no energon and half its systems fritzed.
To his relief, the catbot decided not to call his bluff. ::Fine,:: it snarled. ::Listen sharp. You're important to the Autobot cause, but so is destroying this base. When your distress call came in there was a change of plans. The base is still scheduled to be destroyed, but they decided not to risk sending another operative to get captured. Instead, they sent me - ::
::If you're not an operative then what are you?::
:: - they sent me to recover you if I could, or offline you peacefully if I couldn't. Strafing begins at dawn.::
Jazz processor was whirling. He could see the logic of it, presuming the catbot wasn't lying. This base was the lynchpin in a network of 'Con strongholds. If it went down, they would be crippled. He had known that if he failed the Autobots would still go through with the plan with less-subtle-but-still-effective aerial bombing. The decision on whether or not they tried to rescue him before hand would have depended upon a thousand unforeseeable conditions. By the time Jazz had spent three nights in the cell, he had pretty much given up on any hope of rescue and had begun waiting for explosions to rock the compound. It seemed that whoever was in charge had decided to compromise - rather than sending another highly trained special operative to risk falling into enemy hands or getting blown to smithereens, they had sent a cassette. There were cassettes in the Autobot army. There weren't many and Jazz didn't know any personally, but he had heard of them. He wondered how this unlucky catbot had been chosen. It seemed smarter than Jazz thought cassettes were supposed to be. Maybe someone had gotten tired of its snarky attitude.
::Jazz!:: The catbot was staring holes in him again.
::Alright,:: he said and gave himself a little shake. ::Alright, I'm coming.::
The catbot looked surprised. ::Just like that?::
Jazz shrugged. ::The way I see it, either you're telling the truth, you're a Cassetticon sent to screw with my mind, or you're sixteen kinds of crazy. Or some combination of the three. You did get me out of the brig, though, an' I know this place is set to blow, so I figure I'm safer with you than I am back there.:: He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the base.
It looked him up and down in a manner that was both appraising and maybe a little bit impressed. ::Fair enough. Come on, then.::
The catbot turned away and Jazz fell in step beside it. ::Lead the way, kitty.::
Its audios twitched backwards again. ::My name is not 'kitty'.::
::Oh? Do tell.::
The catbot was silent for a long time while they scrambled through ditches and tripped over rubble. Well, Jazz was scrambling and tripping. The catbot glided along as if it were out for an evening stroll. It paused from time to time to let Jazz catch up or to point him towards a smoother path, but otherwise it paid him little attention. Jazz thought it had forgotten or ignored his flippant question.
The sky was getting lighter and the base still seemed too close. They wordlessly picked up the pace. As visibility improved, Jazz grew bolder - or else, as time got shorter, he grew more reckless. The road was a hazy line far off to their left. The base was a bump on the horizon behind them. They paused and looked back when the klaxons blared.
"Think they finally noticed I was gone?" said Jazz.
The catbot snorted disdainfully.
They were halfway down a treacherous slope when the catbot paused midstride and looked up at the dusky purple sky. A few seconds later, Jazz heard jets streaking overhead. He stopped at the crest of the next rise. The grumbling catbot stood beside him.
The grounds surrounding the base lit up with spotlights. They were too far away to see movement, but they could hear a shift in the wailing of the klaxons. There was a smattering of gunfire, but by the time the 'Cons could see the planes it was already far too late.
An early dawn came in the form of orange columns of fire billowing up from what had once been a very important Decepticon base. Jazz was grinning wickedly when the shockwave reached him.
Despite all his training and natural grace, exhaustion had seeped into his struts from the long night of walking and the longer days before that in the brig. He turned a little too slow and would have fallen on his face if the catbot hadn't ducked underneath him. Jazz banged onto its back and then gracelessly fell on his aft. One arm was still draped over the catbot, and he leaned against it and closed his optics without thinking.
"Thanks," he muttered. His voice was hoarse and weak, but it was steadier than it had been back in the brig.
He felt the catbot stiffen. ::You're welcome,:: it said shortly. The protoform flexed beneath the armor as it turned its head to look behind them. The ground still trembled and the fire was roaring. ::Can you stand?:: it said. ::We should take cover.::
"Yeah," Jazz laughed quietly. "I'm gettin' up, kitty."
The catbot snorted and nearly pushed him over as he struggled to rise. ::You should show me some respect,:: it said, though not nearly as sharply as it could have. ::I did save your life.::
"Yes, sir, Mister Kitty, sir!" said Jazz.
It made a huffing sound that could have been laughter or scoffing. ::That is not respect.::
"Yes . . . ma'am?"
The catbot whirled and cuffed him, very lightly, over the head. It was definitely smirking, now. ::You were closer the first time,:: it - he - said.
"Well, I still don't know your name."
The catbot sobered and turned away. Sighing, Jazz wobbled to his feet and followed.
They found a pitiful excuse for a cave - it was a gully, really, open at one end and with slabs of rock piled haphazardly on the top to form a roof. They crawled in as the true dawn was breaking. Jazz had tried comming out, but either the Autobots or the Decepticons had scrambled the communications channels. They'd have to wait for a little while longer, and both felt safer when they were less exposed.
Jazz curled up against the back wall and the catbot stretched out in front of the open end with his head between his forepaws. Jazz was exhausted but too keyed up to relax and recharge. If the switching tail-tip was anything to judge by, he was willing to bet that the catbot felt the same. They were quiet for a while, listening to the whining howl of jet engines overhead and the dull roar of the fire. Every now and then they felt and heard a new rumble when fuel or munitions exploded in the ruin of the base. Jazz had almost convinced himself that the catbot had fallen asleep when he lifted his head.
There was another brief staring contest - less hostile but just as intense. The catbot looked down and began sheathing and unsheathing his talons restlessly. He looked up at Jazz again and went perfectly still.
::My name is Cade.::