The Usurper's Secrets, Chapter 1
**Standard Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. Blacksmoke is my OC, though.**
Cybertronian-Human Time Terminology:
Klik - 1.2 min; Breem - 8.3 min; Joor - 6.5 hours; Orn - 13 days; Vorn - 83 years
Scene Changes:
/*'*'*/ = Scene change on Earth
/~’~’~/ = Scene change on Cybertron
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“Ugh, if I have to read another one of Red Alert’s reports about someone else’s report, I’m gonna load a virus into his datapads so his reports suddenly disappear every time he saves!” Jazz’s exasperated cry rang out, startling the few other mechs on the command center.
Hound looked up from the monitors with a befuddled expression. “What’s wrong this time, Jazz?”
“Red submitted a report about your report. Ya’know, the one about the conditions of the surrounding environment within a 25 mile radius. It is a fantastic example of how to take a dull report about dirt and make it even worse to read. No offense, Hound, but I ain’t a fan of dirt like you are.”
Hound chuckled. “No worries, Jazz. I don’t expect any of the officers to be to terribly concerned with that type of report unless there’s some security, tactical, or safety issue they find. That’s really the only purpose in those reports. They’re just for the officers to determine if anything in our more immediate vicinity needs further attention. Given that Red Alert held onto the report for a while, I’m guessing he found some potential security issues. Like maybe one or two… or a hundred.”
“’M not even going to count.” Jazz grumbled as he scrolled through the list. “The report is prioritized and itemized, but then he also sub-itemized each item and prioritized those sub-items. Sometimes his reports make Prowl look lax. I mean, Prowl does the same thing but he primarily flags priorities instead of using the old numbering system. That’s a lot easier to read.”
Hound chuckled again before returning back to his screen. “Cheer up Jazz. It could be a painful report or a painful shot from an enemy because Red didn’t read the reports.”
“Yay…” Jazz said with fake but muted enthusiasm. He pretended to be excited at the technically-better option but he didn’t want to bother the few relaxing off-duty Autobots nearby.
For him the most notable one was Prowl, or at least he suspected Prowl was still nearby. The SIC’s scheduled shift ended a while ago but Jazz never saw Prowl emerge from his office. While Prowl was notorious for working longer than necessary, even he should have left his office a little bit ago. It had been approximately one Earth month since the attack on Prowl. Naturally Prowl fell swiftly back into his long and hard self-imposed work schedule.
There was one difference, though. Prior to the attack Prowl rarely accidently offlined in his office. Since then he’d done just that a little over a deca-orn ago, nearly again half a deca-orn ago, and possibly now. For some mechs, a couple of times would hardly mean anything more than maybe Prowl resumed his normal schedule too fast after taking a pretty hard beating. For Jazz it was a puzzling recurrence that he couldn’t quite figure out. Prowl wasn’t working himself into stasis, nor was ignoring Jazz or anyone else, really, but it was unusual. In fact, Prowl had spent more of his off-duty time with Jazz than before the attack. They were going pretty slow by Jazz’s standards so it wasn’t like they were doing anything to tire Prowl out.
“Jazz, what’s with that loopy grin?”
“Uh wha?” Jazz snapped to attention at Hound’s question. “I was just picturing what would happen to Red if I really did sabotage his reports.” The lie flowed effortlessly for him, but any Special Ops mech should know how to do that. Jazz usually kept work and socializing separate, but Hound didn’t need the details about the relationship between the SIC and TIC. Especially since no one knew the details and no one was supposed to know.
They both knew that no one would betray them but the pair wasn’t ready for it to be known. Besides that, it’s also good practice to prevent gossip from spreading, especially if it involves officers developing an intimate relationship. If nothing else, someone could unintentionally mention something offhand near a hiding Decepticon spy. Still, all of that aside, they probably should inform Prime… eventually.
It still left him with a puzzle. Why does Prowl sometimes have trouble properly recharging when he’s following his normal work routine and a new - and better routine, in Jazz’s humble opinion - personal routine? It wasn’t a big deal - yet. Jazz was keeping his optic out just in case.
“Ooh, Jazz…” Jazz stopped his musings and looked up at Bumblebee. “I’m here to take over.”
‘Eh?’ Jazz checked the time and then whistled. “Well, I’ll say one thing about Red’s reports: it takes so much effort and concentration to read them that time flies right by!” With a cheery step Jazz bounced out of his chair and took an indirect path towards Prowl’s office.
Knock knock.
Jazz waited to see if there were sounds in case he startled Prowl, but it was Prowl who startled him. “Come in, Jazz,” Prowl calmly announced. The door opened and revealed an obviously alert Prowl.
“How are you still functioning at a reasonable level? Your shift started well before mine!”
“I have been doing less physical work than you and this is a relatively light orn. I’m spending less energon and my mental capacity has not been stressed.”
“Well, we’re going to have to do something about that,” Jazz said with a cheeky grin. He knew that kind of humor pushed the well-reserved Prowl’s bounds, but Jazz was practicing how to and how frequently he could do so without getting in too much trouble. It was agreed upon anyways that Jazz could push somewhat since they moved at very different speeds, with Prowl moving at a relative glacial pace. They also agreed upon not talking about past relationships if it could be helped. Jazz suspected that was in part because he’d never known Prowl to be in a relationship. No one likes to admit it’s been vorns since their last relationship or lay.
It had been a while for Jazz, too, by his standards. He had to modify his behavior when they became marooned on Earth. A mech couldn’t have a casual relationship in a small group without potentially dangerous risks, such as being paired with a jilted ex-lover on a mission. It’d been long enough by Jazz’s standards that he wanted to jump Prowl at every opportunity, but Jazz suspected he wouldn’t achieve his end goal.
“Very… amusing… Jazz. I said my orn wasn’t taxing; I didn’t say it went well.” Prowl said with a dry tone. However at the sight of Jazz’s pouting face, Prowl quickly spoke up about what he wanted to do about it. “I could use a quiet evening. I think I will just relax in a more enjoyable area.”
Immediately Jazz perked up. Prowl was a bit uptight about the possibility of slipping something around others, so they pre-established verbal codes, or phrases, to relay their plans or ideas. Even when they were alone Prowl was adamant that they continually use them so they never slip up. The phrase “relax in a more enjoyable area” was Prowl’s code for spending time in Jazz’s quarters. The verbal codes were meant to not raise suspension but the downside was that they had to be careful to not use the phrases incorrectly.
On the plus side it was a fun game to play while out in the open with their comrades. Sometimes Jazz would drop as many codes as he could in the command center or in the Rec Room to see how long it would take for Prowl to reciprocate or give him the look. Happily he was getting the former more than the later as their relationship continued.
“Yeah, I hear you there.” That was Jazz’s phrase for he’d be there alone and waiting for Prowl.
Jazz gave Prowl a big smile and Prowl returned his smile with a nod before sitting back down to clear his desk. With a cheery goodbye Jazz left Prowl’s office and headed to the Rec Room, knowing Prowl would stick to the 10 breem rule. The tactician had determined that leaving 10 breems apart was long enough that no one questioned if their departures were related to each other.
A short walk later Jazz found the energon dispensers available in the Rec Room. Jazz, being both an officer and Special Ops, had the option of bigger energon rations. He didn’t often use it because it was easy for others to see it as abuse and it could easily be abused. Back on Cybertron when the rations were a lot more stringent, Jazz started a brawl with another officer because said officer did abuse it and he practically flaunted it around the tired and hungry soldiers. It was a pretty memorable event because Ironhide jumped into the fight - quite enthusiastically too.
Still, Jazz knew that Prowl wouldn’t pick up any since he wasn’t ‘expending much energon’, which always meant that Prowl didn’t think he required any either. A larger ration would allow him to convince Prowl to share some with him.
“Hungry, Jazz?”
Jazz turned to his side and was greeted by the sight of an annoyed Sunstreaker. “Yeah.” He turned back to the still-dispensing energon.
After a moment Jazz notice from the corner of his optic that Sunstreaker was glaring at him. As soon as the dispenser finished, Jazz turned back to face him and carefully glancing over the yellow warrior. “That’s a nasty scratch on your knee.”
“It’s not a scratch, it’s a gouge. It’s causing the servo in my knee to catch whenever I lean forward,” came the gruff reply.
‘Ah.’ Sunstreaker’s confrontational attitude was clearly a by-product of the physical stress to his knee. “What, Medbay shut down for the night?”
“No, but it only started to hurt half joor ago. Ratchet’s been working intently with Grapple and a few others about a Medbay overhaul to get it to Ratchet’s standards, now that we aren’t racing to get off of Cybertron. A certain bossy CMO said that since it wasn’t causing me much grief and therefor I could wait a joor while they hashed it out. That was, like, a joor and a half ago.”
“Mmm,” Jazz nodded his condolences. Ratchet always put other’s health at the top of his list, but it sounded like Ratchet got carried away with demanding new medical equipment. In Ratchet’s defense, it was a critical requirement that would likely save lives many times over, which was why Prime was allowing Ratchet to run away with it.
::Hey, Ratchet?:: Jazz sent the CMO a comm. message.
After a moment, the medic’s excited and simultaneously agitated voice responded. ::Yeah?::
::Did you forget you had a patient waiting?::
::Primus damn it! Send the his yellow aft here.::
Jazz turned toward Sunstreaker. “That certain bossy CMO is ready for you.”
Sunstreaker, to his part, looked relieved. “Thanks.” His relief dissipated somewhat after a moment as indecisiveness slowly spread across his face. “Can you help? That whole leaning forward thing kind of makes walking hard.”
Internally Jazz groaned. Sunstreaker normally doesn’t ask for help so the saboteur couldn’t say no to the request. That was hardly any comfort because he knew what would happen to his evening plans. “Of course, Sunstreaker. Just don’t lurch forward ‘cuz I might spill some energon. If you do, I’ll aim your way,” he lightly teased before taking one of Sunstreaker’s arms over his shoulders.
While slowly walking Sunstreaker back Jazz decided to contact Prowl when it had nearly been 10 breems since they separated. ::Hey Prowl, I’m helping an injured Sunstreaker. It’ll probably be a few more breems before I’m in my quarters.::
::Acknowledged.::
Jazz groaned. He could practically hear Prowl sitting back down to work. It would be longer than a few more breems before Jazz had company.
“I’m not that heavy.”
“Huh?” Jazz looked over at Sunstreaker, who was giving him a pointed look.
“You groaned and then slouched.”
“Oh no, it wasn’t you. If I remembered correctly, I never signed off on one of Red’s reports.” A total lie. Jazz made a point to always sign an officer’s report because all of the officers, including him, would bug the missing signature if a full shift transpired without the officer’s signature.
“Oh yeah. I think I’m close enough if you want to do that now.”
“Nonsense. Red’s already starting his shift so I’m in trouble anyways. Going back won’t save me now.” Leaving Sunstreaker wasn’t going to help Jazz’s evening so there was no reason to force the mech to walk the rest of the way on his own.
Eventually they arrived at Medbay for what felt like a joor-long walk to the saboteur. The doors open and a disgruntled Grapple met them, followed by a triumphant Ratchet glowing behind him.
“Excuse me,” Grapple muttered.
The pair moved out of Grapple’s way before making their way to the berth Ratchet gestured them towards. “Feeling a bit smug, Ratchet?” Jazz asked as he slowly pulled Sunstreaker’s arm over his head while Sunstreaker adjusted himself into a sitting position.
“Grapple’s idea of spacial arrangement for a new Medbay didn’t match mine. It took some time, but naturally I won.”
“With or without pulling rank?”
“Without.” Ratchet smirked. Sunstreaker opened his mouth but Ratchet cut him off. “And without ranting, threatening, cursing, or throwing things at him. I usually reserve that for my frequent visitors. Or the incredibly stupid ones that show up only once in a while. Take your pick which category you fall under.”
Jazz smiled, “Haha. Have fun you two.” With Ratchet’s dismissal and a “thanks” from Sunstreaker, Jazz headed towards his quarters. As he walked he buzzed Prowl with a comm. message to let the mech know that he was heading towards his quarters. Prowl acknowledge and said he’s been there in a half of a joor.
::You know that no one’s going to put two-and-two together about my trip from Medbay to my quarters and your trip from your office to the officers’ sector, right?:: Jazz asked.
::Ironhide should be leaving his quarters within the next half joor for his shift. I would like to give additional time in case he leaves late. This will avoid the possibility of him seeing me step into your quarters.::
‘Okay, now I’m getting irritated. One, Tactician Paranoid could easily claim he wanted to talk to me as friends. Two, I have another shift sooner than I’d like and the ticking clock just to meet up isn’t helping. I don’t mind staying up the entire time between shifts with Prowl, but not waiting for Prowl.’ Jazz picked up his pace and entered his quarters before dropping his energon off in his quarters. He promptly turned around as the energon cube landed on the table and headed back out of his quarters.
Walking briskly with clipped, tight steps, Jazz went straight for Ironhide’s door. “Ironhide! Get to your shift!” Jazz yelled as he pounded on the door. Moments later the door whisked open to reveal a slightly bewildered Ironhide.
“Jazz! What are you talking about? My shift doesn’t start for another half joor!” Ironhide barked back at Jazz.
“Really? I thought the schedule said almost joor ago.” Jazz feigned surprise and gave Ironhide an ‘are you sure’ look. Jazz decided to suspend his rule about minimizing his lying if it solved his immediate problem. They were getting closer to the dreaded ‘Limbo’ timeframe, where Prowl might renege on their plans if he felt like too much off-duty time had been lost. Not to mention that the less time they spent together the longer it would take for Jazz to solve his other problem, and he had too much pent up frustration as it stood.
“No, it’s in a half joor.”
“Hmm, well okay. Oh, FYI, you’re sharing your shift with Red, who just started his shift. He’s in his early routine where he checks the cameras and whatnot, but you know what he does next…” Jazz trailed off. Everyone knew Red’s early routines at the start of each shift since it was always the same.
Ironhide, who was in the process of commanding his doors to shut, abruptly paused. After hesitating for a moment he gave in. “I’d rather be early than risk having him following me and trying to lecture me about how I compromised security ‘cuz I was late.” Ironhide exited and disappeared around the corner leading out.
Not even a click later Jazz was buzzing Prowl again with his comm. link. ::Ironhide’s gone. My next shift starts in 9.3 joors, so you better get here fast. I’m not recharging until I get time to relax with you.::
::On my way.::
Jazz grinned and walked back to his quarters with a small bounce in each step. Once inside Jazz moved to his entertainment section and searched through his movie library collection. He found that intelligent humor movies worked well for the pair, human- or cybertronian-made. They didn’t always watch movies, but they usually lead to fun discussions and fun activities afterwards.
After browsing through the collection Jazz noticed that they had watched almost all of his surviving Cybertronian movies. While he knew Prowl preferred cybertronian to human entertainment, there were a few human movies that supposedly fell into that category and Jazz hadn’t gotten around to checking them out yet.
There was a quiet knock on his door. Jazz commanded the doors to open and Prowl walked through them quickly. “You’re just in time to help me make a selection. I wanted to pick something we haven’t watched before and I thought I’d give you the final pick.”
“Out of how many movies?”
“Two.”
“That’s hardly finally pick,” Prowl said with a small smile in the corner of his mouth.
“Meh. Which one these human movies do you want to watch: ‘Planes, Trains & Automobiles’, or ‘Princess Bride’?”
“What are they about?” Prowl asked curiously.
“Well, the first one is about a man trying to get home to his family but he runs into a series of bad luck while stuck with a hapless guy.
“The other one, ‘Princess Bride’, is about rescuing a young woman so she can be with her true love and not some evil prince. It seems like the focus is more on romance, but it’s supposed to be mostly comical about what happens while perusing her.”
“Hmm…” Prowl mulled over the movie descriptions for a moment. “Do you know if either of them is any good?”
“Honestly, no. Spike gave them to me as a gift a while back and that started an argument amongst the humans about whether the movies made a nice or awful gift. I figured we could watch them and judge it for ourselves. Might be fun.” Jazz shrugged.
“Which one seemed overall better or at least more suited for now?”
“I think ‘Princess Bride’ had a lot more approval,” Jazz recalled.
“Then I suppose if we’re judging movies we might as well start there.”
“Okay, ‘Princess Bride’ it is then.” Jazz selected it from his library. Prowl sat down on the couch and settled in carefully to prop up his doorwings. Jazz grabbed the energon and casually sat to Prowl’s left. Together they enjoyed the movie while sharing the energon, most of which Jazz absently consumed. It did inspire some amusing conversation, even if they had to pause the movie and debate over the miracle scene. Prowl had a tough time accepting that idea even if he had already accepted “movie world”, as Jazz called it, where science and logic tended to get sacked in favor of entertainment.
After the movie Jazz looked at Prowl, who was resting lightly against his right shoulder. “Enjoyed the movie?”
“It was alright. It had its moments.” Prowl looked up at Jazz and readjusted himself so he could look into Jazz’s optics straight-on. Jazz was secretly disappointed for Prowl’s presence to disappear from his shoulder.
“Are you still unhappy about that miracle scene?” Jazz laughed softly and shook his head in fondness of Prowl’s persistent rejection that a chocolate-covered pill could restore “mostly dead” people. It was even more amusing because some time ago Jazz had a similar debate with Prowl about zombies. Prowl had accepted zombies well enough when the explanations were more about science and less about magic. For reasons like that he couldn’t accept a “mostly dead” person being quickly and fully restored back to life by a chocolate-covered magical pill.
“So what if I am?” Prowl returned in a playfully defensive way. “And you? Did you enjoy it?”
“I liked it a little more than you. The part in the beginning with Inigo Montoya and Westley at the top of the mountain was amusing.”
“Yes, it was. But I found Inigo Montoya’s explanation about dedicating his life to avenging his father a bit peculiar…” Prowl trailed off, pondering about a man whose entire purpose in life was to get revenge for his deceased father.
Jazz immediately knew why Prowl would fixate on that thought. By Cybertronian standards it wasn’t that long ago when Jazz slipped up and had to give Prowl the news of his sparker’s fate. Before that moment Prowl hadn’t liked his sparker, Blacksmoke, because the mech had abandoned his family in a time of need. However, the news of how his sparker died to save an unconscious Prowl, and his final words to Smokescreen for Prowl, had shaken Prowl and left him with a lot of unanswered questions. Questions he hadn’t considered before now.
“There’s so many holes in what you told me about my sparker’s death,” Prowl said, echoing Jazz’s thoughts. “Even though I know who killed him, it seems strange to dedicate a part of my life to killing Starscream for it. I do want Starscream terminated for it, among other things, but I feel confusion more so than anything else. I thought I knew enough about him since he abandoned us while my creator was hospitalized, but his last moments conflict with what I remember.”
Jazz nodded, hearing Prowl’s questioning tone. “Yeah, I get that. I wouldn’t worry though about whether you need to get revenge on Starscream, though. You’re smarter than him and you’ve ruined more than a few of his plans. Eventually that madmech will run out of luck and you’ll get him for good. Just like Inigo Montoya!” Jazz swept his arm across and jabbed it into the air as if he was fencing.
Prowl chuckled. “Thanks, Jazz. You can count on war to make that sound like sweet talk.”
Jazz laughed too. “Hey, sweet talk is a matter of perspective.” Taking that same arm, he brought it around Prowl’s back and pulled him forward. He leaned forward and gave Prowl a soft kiss. Prowl returned the kiss and they remained like that for a moment before Prowl separated and leaned his forehead against Jazz’s.
Softly, Prowl spoke up, “Jazz, I’m feeling a bit tired.”
“What? You want to go? I thought you had enough energon left over, plus the some we shared.” Jazz sulked.
“No. You had most of it, and I may have been over estimating the amount of energon I had remaining. But… I don’t want to leave.” Prowl hesitated before saying that last part but it felt good to say aloud. It was something he thought about last time but he was too cowardly to ask. His logic center kept nagging him by pointing out he didn’t technically need the rest. The truth was that he’d let his energon levels run lower than normal this time. It was reasonable after all to claim he was tired and stay over if he really was tired. And he really did want to stay over.
He gave Jazz’s forehead a chaste kiss and he saw Jazz’s face light up. “I think it would be nice to recharge here until you leave for your shift.”
“You want anything first?” Jazz said quietly, containing the excitement from his voice. He didn’t want to spoil the moment by sounding like a giddy sparkling. Jazz knew that Prowl meant really did mean ‘recharge’ when he said recharge, but right now it felt better than a “recharge” with some casual relationship.
“No, I’m fine.”
The two separated and Jazz turned off the screen as Prowl walked to the berth and waited for him. “Inside or outside?” Jazz asked. Like any quarters, Jazz’s berth was pushed up against the wall.
“I’m aware that Ops mechs have a strong preference for being on the outside, so I don’t mind recharging on the inside.”
Prowl carefully slide towards the wall on the berth. Jazz waited, unsure how Prowl and he would fit together on account of those doorwings. Prowl, for his part, sized up Jazz and calculated how much space they would need to comfortably rest together. He flattened his doorwings and locked the servos in place so they wouldn’t gravitate to their natural position. “I hope you aren’t a restless mech,” Prowl teased, “or else my doorwings might hurt in the morning. If that happens then you’ll be sleeping on the inside, Ops mech or not.”
“Are you comfortable?” Jazz asked with concern.
“I’m fairly comfortable. My doorwings do not hurt in this position and they won’t so long as the servos aren’t under pressure. I just can’t roll because they won’t move with me. I don’t intend to though.”
Jazz grinned and carefully laid down on the berth. The black and white pair readjusted themselves so they were loosely laying in each other’s arms. The pair offlined moments later as they relaxed in the warm embrace.
/*’*’*/
Jazz stirred before onlining. ‘Mmm?’ A tugging sensation in his arm forced him awake and he powered on his optics. Prowl had started to roll over and his left doorwing was mildly pinching Jazz’s arm. Jazz carefully pulled the Praxian forward so he could free his arm and keep Prowl from unknowingly hurt himself. He was going to either have to recharge on the inside or need a bigger berth that could accommodate a mech who needed wider space. The second option sounded better even if it was harder to accomplish.
Not one for wasting moments, Jazz gazed at Prowl’s face, partially lit in the white-wash light filtering in from the door. Before him was a serene sight, with the light faintly glistening on Prowl’s tranquil face. Jazz couldn’t stop staring at the sleeping mech. Unwilling to resist his urge Jazz reached forward and lightly caressed the side hidden in the shadows. Unfortunately, Jazz’s fond moment was interrupted when he felt tightly clenched muscle cables under his partner’s facial plate.
‘What’s making him worried or stressed?’Jazz softly massaged the muscle cables until the tension in the muscle cables dissolved. Jazz couldn’t help but wonder what could be in the Praxian’s dreams. He considered a few possible causes but it didn’t take long to find a reason. Jazz knew Prowl was troubled by his sparker, and even though the matter was easily dismissed this evening that it didn’t mean it was gone.
Once again thinking about the matter, Jazz considered the questions he had about Smokescreen’s story about Blacksmoke. Why happened back then that caused Blacksmoke to suddenly change gears and leave a mission? Why would Blacksmoke urgently seek out a friend he had zero remaining ties except a dead past? Was he abandoning the critical mission or was he trying to get a message out before returning to finish it? Then there was Prowl’s numerous questions about the mech, but that in itself caused alarm for Jazz. How did someone miss that Blacksmoke had a sparkling named Prowl, the very same mech who became their SIC? Or did they actually miss it? Spec Ops mechs with young sparklings were barred from certain missions - the kind of missions that Blacksmoke was regularly involved in planning and executing. If Blacksmoke had a sparkling listed then he never would have been a part of those missions.
Unable to let the matter vanish again without further investigation, Jazz stealthily climbed out of the berth without disturbing Prowl. He slipped quietly out the doors and moved towards his office. There, he would have access to all of the Special Ops files, including the ones brought from Cybertron. Jazz began searching the files for the mission Blacksmoke was supposed to be midway through when he left.
‘File not found? What the Pit?’ That was a critical mission. How could it not be found? The Autobots had loaded information into the Ark’s computers when they were preparing to leave. They knew they had a finite amount of time so they loaded files starting with then-current plans and missions before working backwards, giving priorities to critical, urgent, or important missions and information. Either what he was searching for didn’t meet that criteria, which wasn’t right, or someone had prevented it from being stored in Teeletran.
Now Jazz was even more worried than earlier. This time he tried again but instead he ran search algorithms on all files looking for anything with Blacksmoke’s name or indications of trouble surrounding that timeframe.
‘Primus damn it!’ Jazz cursed after a while when the algorithms turned up nothing. His frustration was cut short a moment later when his internal alarm went off. He’d set up an alarm so he’d be back in his berth and recharging before Prowl onlined. His search had become fruitless anyways. It was clear he was going to have to get in touch with his remaining officers still stationed on Cybertron about the missing records.
Jazz quietly slipped back into his quarters and laid down on his berth. He pulled Prowl closer to him and rested his head on Prowl’s sprawled arm. Prowl murmured in his sleep and leaned into Jazz’s chest. Jazz smiled before beginning to cycle down for recharge. ‘Prowl, I don’t know if I can give you the answers you need, but I’ll find answers and I’ll do my best to give you want you need for closure.’
Cybertronian-Human Time Terminology:
Klik - 1.2 min; Breem - 8.3 min; Joor - 6.5 hours; Orn - 13 days; Vorn - 83 years
Scene Changes:
/*'*'*/ = Scene change on Earth
/~’~’~/ = Scene change on Cybertron
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Ugh, if I have to read another one of Red Alert’s reports about someone else’s report, I’m gonna load a virus into his datapads so his reports suddenly disappear every time he saves!” Jazz’s exasperated cry rang out, startling the few other mechs on the command center.
Hound looked up from the monitors with a befuddled expression. “What’s wrong this time, Jazz?”
“Red submitted a report about your report. Ya’know, the one about the conditions of the surrounding environment within a 25 mile radius. It is a fantastic example of how to take a dull report about dirt and make it even worse to read. No offense, Hound, but I ain’t a fan of dirt like you are.”
Hound chuckled. “No worries, Jazz. I don’t expect any of the officers to be to terribly concerned with that type of report unless there’s some security, tactical, or safety issue they find. That’s really the only purpose in those reports. They’re just for the officers to determine if anything in our more immediate vicinity needs further attention. Given that Red Alert held onto the report for a while, I’m guessing he found some potential security issues. Like maybe one or two… or a hundred.”
“’M not even going to count.” Jazz grumbled as he scrolled through the list. “The report is prioritized and itemized, but then he also sub-itemized each item and prioritized those sub-items. Sometimes his reports make Prowl look lax. I mean, Prowl does the same thing but he primarily flags priorities instead of using the old numbering system. That’s a lot easier to read.”
Hound chuckled again before returning back to his screen. “Cheer up Jazz. It could be a painful report or a painful shot from an enemy because Red didn’t read the reports.”
“Yay…” Jazz said with fake but muted enthusiasm. He pretended to be excited at the technically-better option but he didn’t want to bother the few relaxing off-duty Autobots nearby.
For him the most notable one was Prowl, or at least he suspected Prowl was still nearby. The SIC’s scheduled shift ended a while ago but Jazz never saw Prowl emerge from his office. While Prowl was notorious for working longer than necessary, even he should have left his office a little bit ago. It had been approximately one Earth month since the attack on Prowl. Naturally Prowl fell swiftly back into his long and hard self-imposed work schedule.
There was one difference, though. Prior to the attack Prowl rarely accidently offlined in his office. Since then he’d done just that a little over a deca-orn ago, nearly again half a deca-orn ago, and possibly now. For some mechs, a couple of times would hardly mean anything more than maybe Prowl resumed his normal schedule too fast after taking a pretty hard beating. For Jazz it was a puzzling recurrence that he couldn’t quite figure out. Prowl wasn’t working himself into stasis, nor was ignoring Jazz or anyone else, really, but it was unusual. In fact, Prowl had spent more of his off-duty time with Jazz than before the attack. They were going pretty slow by Jazz’s standards so it wasn’t like they were doing anything to tire Prowl out.
“Jazz, what’s with that loopy grin?”
“Uh wha?” Jazz snapped to attention at Hound’s question. “I was just picturing what would happen to Red if I really did sabotage his reports.” The lie flowed effortlessly for him, but any Special Ops mech should know how to do that. Jazz usually kept work and socializing separate, but Hound didn’t need the details about the relationship between the SIC and TIC. Especially since no one knew the details and no one was supposed to know.
They both knew that no one would betray them but the pair wasn’t ready for it to be known. Besides that, it’s also good practice to prevent gossip from spreading, especially if it involves officers developing an intimate relationship. If nothing else, someone could unintentionally mention something offhand near a hiding Decepticon spy. Still, all of that aside, they probably should inform Prime… eventually.
It still left him with a puzzle. Why does Prowl sometimes have trouble properly recharging when he’s following his normal work routine and a new - and better routine, in Jazz’s humble opinion - personal routine? It wasn’t a big deal - yet. Jazz was keeping his optic out just in case.
“Ooh, Jazz…” Jazz stopped his musings and looked up at Bumblebee. “I’m here to take over.”
‘Eh?’ Jazz checked the time and then whistled. “Well, I’ll say one thing about Red’s reports: it takes so much effort and concentration to read them that time flies right by!” With a cheery step Jazz bounced out of his chair and took an indirect path towards Prowl’s office.
Knock knock.
Jazz waited to see if there were sounds in case he startled Prowl, but it was Prowl who startled him. “Come in, Jazz,” Prowl calmly announced. The door opened and revealed an obviously alert Prowl.
“How are you still functioning at a reasonable level? Your shift started well before mine!”
“I have been doing less physical work than you and this is a relatively light orn. I’m spending less energon and my mental capacity has not been stressed.”
“Well, we’re going to have to do something about that,” Jazz said with a cheeky grin. He knew that kind of humor pushed the well-reserved Prowl’s bounds, but Jazz was practicing how to and how frequently he could do so without getting in too much trouble. It was agreed upon anyways that Jazz could push somewhat since they moved at very different speeds, with Prowl moving at a relative glacial pace. They also agreed upon not talking about past relationships if it could be helped. Jazz suspected that was in part because he’d never known Prowl to be in a relationship. No one likes to admit it’s been vorns since their last relationship or lay.
It had been a while for Jazz, too, by his standards. He had to modify his behavior when they became marooned on Earth. A mech couldn’t have a casual relationship in a small group without potentially dangerous risks, such as being paired with a jilted ex-lover on a mission. It’d been long enough by Jazz’s standards that he wanted to jump Prowl at every opportunity, but Jazz suspected he wouldn’t achieve his end goal.
“Very… amusing… Jazz. I said my orn wasn’t taxing; I didn’t say it went well.” Prowl said with a dry tone. However at the sight of Jazz’s pouting face, Prowl quickly spoke up about what he wanted to do about it. “I could use a quiet evening. I think I will just relax in a more enjoyable area.”
Immediately Jazz perked up. Prowl was a bit uptight about the possibility of slipping something around others, so they pre-established verbal codes, or phrases, to relay their plans or ideas. Even when they were alone Prowl was adamant that they continually use them so they never slip up. The phrase “relax in a more enjoyable area” was Prowl’s code for spending time in Jazz’s quarters. The verbal codes were meant to not raise suspension but the downside was that they had to be careful to not use the phrases incorrectly.
On the plus side it was a fun game to play while out in the open with their comrades. Sometimes Jazz would drop as many codes as he could in the command center or in the Rec Room to see how long it would take for Prowl to reciprocate or give him the look. Happily he was getting the former more than the later as their relationship continued.
“Yeah, I hear you there.” That was Jazz’s phrase for he’d be there alone and waiting for Prowl.
Jazz gave Prowl a big smile and Prowl returned his smile with a nod before sitting back down to clear his desk. With a cheery goodbye Jazz left Prowl’s office and headed to the Rec Room, knowing Prowl would stick to the 10 breem rule. The tactician had determined that leaving 10 breems apart was long enough that no one questioned if their departures were related to each other.
A short walk later Jazz found the energon dispensers available in the Rec Room. Jazz, being both an officer and Special Ops, had the option of bigger energon rations. He didn’t often use it because it was easy for others to see it as abuse and it could easily be abused. Back on Cybertron when the rations were a lot more stringent, Jazz started a brawl with another officer because said officer did abuse it and he practically flaunted it around the tired and hungry soldiers. It was a pretty memorable event because Ironhide jumped into the fight - quite enthusiastically too.
Still, Jazz knew that Prowl wouldn’t pick up any since he wasn’t ‘expending much energon’, which always meant that Prowl didn’t think he required any either. A larger ration would allow him to convince Prowl to share some with him.
“Hungry, Jazz?”
Jazz turned to his side and was greeted by the sight of an annoyed Sunstreaker. “Yeah.” He turned back to the still-dispensing energon.
After a moment Jazz notice from the corner of his optic that Sunstreaker was glaring at him. As soon as the dispenser finished, Jazz turned back to face him and carefully glancing over the yellow warrior. “That’s a nasty scratch on your knee.”
“It’s not a scratch, it’s a gouge. It’s causing the servo in my knee to catch whenever I lean forward,” came the gruff reply.
‘Ah.’ Sunstreaker’s confrontational attitude was clearly a by-product of the physical stress to his knee. “What, Medbay shut down for the night?”
“No, but it only started to hurt half joor ago. Ratchet’s been working intently with Grapple and a few others about a Medbay overhaul to get it to Ratchet’s standards, now that we aren’t racing to get off of Cybertron. A certain bossy CMO said that since it wasn’t causing me much grief and therefor I could wait a joor while they hashed it out. That was, like, a joor and a half ago.”
“Mmm,” Jazz nodded his condolences. Ratchet always put other’s health at the top of his list, but it sounded like Ratchet got carried away with demanding new medical equipment. In Ratchet’s defense, it was a critical requirement that would likely save lives many times over, which was why Prime was allowing Ratchet to run away with it.
::Hey, Ratchet?:: Jazz sent the CMO a comm. message.
After a moment, the medic’s excited and simultaneously agitated voice responded. ::Yeah?::
::Did you forget you had a patient waiting?::
::Primus damn it! Send the his yellow aft here.::
Jazz turned toward Sunstreaker. “That certain bossy CMO is ready for you.”
Sunstreaker, to his part, looked relieved. “Thanks.” His relief dissipated somewhat after a moment as indecisiveness slowly spread across his face. “Can you help? That whole leaning forward thing kind of makes walking hard.”
Internally Jazz groaned. Sunstreaker normally doesn’t ask for help so the saboteur couldn’t say no to the request. That was hardly any comfort because he knew what would happen to his evening plans. “Of course, Sunstreaker. Just don’t lurch forward ‘cuz I might spill some energon. If you do, I’ll aim your way,” he lightly teased before taking one of Sunstreaker’s arms over his shoulders.
While slowly walking Sunstreaker back Jazz decided to contact Prowl when it had nearly been 10 breems since they separated. ::Hey Prowl, I’m helping an injured Sunstreaker. It’ll probably be a few more breems before I’m in my quarters.::
::Acknowledged.::
Jazz groaned. He could practically hear Prowl sitting back down to work. It would be longer than a few more breems before Jazz had company.
“I’m not that heavy.”
“Huh?” Jazz looked over at Sunstreaker, who was giving him a pointed look.
“You groaned and then slouched.”
“Oh no, it wasn’t you. If I remembered correctly, I never signed off on one of Red’s reports.” A total lie. Jazz made a point to always sign an officer’s report because all of the officers, including him, would bug the missing signature if a full shift transpired without the officer’s signature.
“Oh yeah. I think I’m close enough if you want to do that now.”
“Nonsense. Red’s already starting his shift so I’m in trouble anyways. Going back won’t save me now.” Leaving Sunstreaker wasn’t going to help Jazz’s evening so there was no reason to force the mech to walk the rest of the way on his own.
Eventually they arrived at Medbay for what felt like a joor-long walk to the saboteur. The doors open and a disgruntled Grapple met them, followed by a triumphant Ratchet glowing behind him.
“Excuse me,” Grapple muttered.
The pair moved out of Grapple’s way before making their way to the berth Ratchet gestured them towards. “Feeling a bit smug, Ratchet?” Jazz asked as he slowly pulled Sunstreaker’s arm over his head while Sunstreaker adjusted himself into a sitting position.
“Grapple’s idea of spacial arrangement for a new Medbay didn’t match mine. It took some time, but naturally I won.”
“With or without pulling rank?”
“Without.” Ratchet smirked. Sunstreaker opened his mouth but Ratchet cut him off. “And without ranting, threatening, cursing, or throwing things at him. I usually reserve that for my frequent visitors. Or the incredibly stupid ones that show up only once in a while. Take your pick which category you fall under.”
Jazz smiled, “Haha. Have fun you two.” With Ratchet’s dismissal and a “thanks” from Sunstreaker, Jazz headed towards his quarters. As he walked he buzzed Prowl with a comm. message to let the mech know that he was heading towards his quarters. Prowl acknowledge and said he’s been there in a half of a joor.
::You know that no one’s going to put two-and-two together about my trip from Medbay to my quarters and your trip from your office to the officers’ sector, right?:: Jazz asked.
::Ironhide should be leaving his quarters within the next half joor for his shift. I would like to give additional time in case he leaves late. This will avoid the possibility of him seeing me step into your quarters.::
‘Okay, now I’m getting irritated. One, Tactician Paranoid could easily claim he wanted to talk to me as friends. Two, I have another shift sooner than I’d like and the ticking clock just to meet up isn’t helping. I don’t mind staying up the entire time between shifts with Prowl, but not waiting for Prowl.’ Jazz picked up his pace and entered his quarters before dropping his energon off in his quarters. He promptly turned around as the energon cube landed on the table and headed back out of his quarters.
Walking briskly with clipped, tight steps, Jazz went straight for Ironhide’s door. “Ironhide! Get to your shift!” Jazz yelled as he pounded on the door. Moments later the door whisked open to reveal a slightly bewildered Ironhide.
“Jazz! What are you talking about? My shift doesn’t start for another half joor!” Ironhide barked back at Jazz.
“Really? I thought the schedule said almost joor ago.” Jazz feigned surprise and gave Ironhide an ‘are you sure’ look. Jazz decided to suspend his rule about minimizing his lying if it solved his immediate problem. They were getting closer to the dreaded ‘Limbo’ timeframe, where Prowl might renege on their plans if he felt like too much off-duty time had been lost. Not to mention that the less time they spent together the longer it would take for Jazz to solve his other problem, and he had too much pent up frustration as it stood.
“No, it’s in a half joor.”
“Hmm, well okay. Oh, FYI, you’re sharing your shift with Red, who just started his shift. He’s in his early routine where he checks the cameras and whatnot, but you know what he does next…” Jazz trailed off. Everyone knew Red’s early routines at the start of each shift since it was always the same.
Ironhide, who was in the process of commanding his doors to shut, abruptly paused. After hesitating for a moment he gave in. “I’d rather be early than risk having him following me and trying to lecture me about how I compromised security ‘cuz I was late.” Ironhide exited and disappeared around the corner leading out.
Not even a click later Jazz was buzzing Prowl again with his comm. link. ::Ironhide’s gone. My next shift starts in 9.3 joors, so you better get here fast. I’m not recharging until I get time to relax with you.::
::On my way.::
Jazz grinned and walked back to his quarters with a small bounce in each step. Once inside Jazz moved to his entertainment section and searched through his movie library collection. He found that intelligent humor movies worked well for the pair, human- or cybertronian-made. They didn’t always watch movies, but they usually lead to fun discussions and fun activities afterwards.
After browsing through the collection Jazz noticed that they had watched almost all of his surviving Cybertronian movies. While he knew Prowl preferred cybertronian to human entertainment, there were a few human movies that supposedly fell into that category and Jazz hadn’t gotten around to checking them out yet.
There was a quiet knock on his door. Jazz commanded the doors to open and Prowl walked through them quickly. “You’re just in time to help me make a selection. I wanted to pick something we haven’t watched before and I thought I’d give you the final pick.”
“Out of how many movies?”
“Two.”
“That’s hardly finally pick,” Prowl said with a small smile in the corner of his mouth.
“Meh. Which one these human movies do you want to watch: ‘Planes, Trains & Automobiles’, or ‘Princess Bride’?”
“What are they about?” Prowl asked curiously.
“Well, the first one is about a man trying to get home to his family but he runs into a series of bad luck while stuck with a hapless guy.
“The other one, ‘Princess Bride’, is about rescuing a young woman so she can be with her true love and not some evil prince. It seems like the focus is more on romance, but it’s supposed to be mostly comical about what happens while perusing her.”
“Hmm…” Prowl mulled over the movie descriptions for a moment. “Do you know if either of them is any good?”
“Honestly, no. Spike gave them to me as a gift a while back and that started an argument amongst the humans about whether the movies made a nice or awful gift. I figured we could watch them and judge it for ourselves. Might be fun.” Jazz shrugged.
“Which one seemed overall better or at least more suited for now?”
“I think ‘Princess Bride’ had a lot more approval,” Jazz recalled.
“Then I suppose if we’re judging movies we might as well start there.”
“Okay, ‘Princess Bride’ it is then.” Jazz selected it from his library. Prowl sat down on the couch and settled in carefully to prop up his doorwings. Jazz grabbed the energon and casually sat to Prowl’s left. Together they enjoyed the movie while sharing the energon, most of which Jazz absently consumed. It did inspire some amusing conversation, even if they had to pause the movie and debate over the miracle scene. Prowl had a tough time accepting that idea even if he had already accepted “movie world”, as Jazz called it, where science and logic tended to get sacked in favor of entertainment.
After the movie Jazz looked at Prowl, who was resting lightly against his right shoulder. “Enjoyed the movie?”
“It was alright. It had its moments.” Prowl looked up at Jazz and readjusted himself so he could look into Jazz’s optics straight-on. Jazz was secretly disappointed for Prowl’s presence to disappear from his shoulder.
“Are you still unhappy about that miracle scene?” Jazz laughed softly and shook his head in fondness of Prowl’s persistent rejection that a chocolate-covered pill could restore “mostly dead” people. It was even more amusing because some time ago Jazz had a similar debate with Prowl about zombies. Prowl had accepted zombies well enough when the explanations were more about science and less about magic. For reasons like that he couldn’t accept a “mostly dead” person being quickly and fully restored back to life by a chocolate-covered magical pill.
“So what if I am?” Prowl returned in a playfully defensive way. “And you? Did you enjoy it?”
“I liked it a little more than you. The part in the beginning with Inigo Montoya and Westley at the top of the mountain was amusing.”
“Yes, it was. But I found Inigo Montoya’s explanation about dedicating his life to avenging his father a bit peculiar…” Prowl trailed off, pondering about a man whose entire purpose in life was to get revenge for his deceased father.
Jazz immediately knew why Prowl would fixate on that thought. By Cybertronian standards it wasn’t that long ago when Jazz slipped up and had to give Prowl the news of his sparker’s fate. Before that moment Prowl hadn’t liked his sparker, Blacksmoke, because the mech had abandoned his family in a time of need. However, the news of how his sparker died to save an unconscious Prowl, and his final words to Smokescreen for Prowl, had shaken Prowl and left him with a lot of unanswered questions. Questions he hadn’t considered before now.
“There’s so many holes in what you told me about my sparker’s death,” Prowl said, echoing Jazz’s thoughts. “Even though I know who killed him, it seems strange to dedicate a part of my life to killing Starscream for it. I do want Starscream terminated for it, among other things, but I feel confusion more so than anything else. I thought I knew enough about him since he abandoned us while my creator was hospitalized, but his last moments conflict with what I remember.”
Jazz nodded, hearing Prowl’s questioning tone. “Yeah, I get that. I wouldn’t worry though about whether you need to get revenge on Starscream, though. You’re smarter than him and you’ve ruined more than a few of his plans. Eventually that madmech will run out of luck and you’ll get him for good. Just like Inigo Montoya!” Jazz swept his arm across and jabbed it into the air as if he was fencing.
Prowl chuckled. “Thanks, Jazz. You can count on war to make that sound like sweet talk.”
Jazz laughed too. “Hey, sweet talk is a matter of perspective.” Taking that same arm, he brought it around Prowl’s back and pulled him forward. He leaned forward and gave Prowl a soft kiss. Prowl returned the kiss and they remained like that for a moment before Prowl separated and leaned his forehead against Jazz’s.
Softly, Prowl spoke up, “Jazz, I’m feeling a bit tired.”
“What? You want to go? I thought you had enough energon left over, plus the some we shared.” Jazz sulked.
“No. You had most of it, and I may have been over estimating the amount of energon I had remaining. But… I don’t want to leave.” Prowl hesitated before saying that last part but it felt good to say aloud. It was something he thought about last time but he was too cowardly to ask. His logic center kept nagging him by pointing out he didn’t technically need the rest. The truth was that he’d let his energon levels run lower than normal this time. It was reasonable after all to claim he was tired and stay over if he really was tired. And he really did want to stay over.
He gave Jazz’s forehead a chaste kiss and he saw Jazz’s face light up. “I think it would be nice to recharge here until you leave for your shift.”
“You want anything first?” Jazz said quietly, containing the excitement from his voice. He didn’t want to spoil the moment by sounding like a giddy sparkling. Jazz knew that Prowl meant really did mean ‘recharge’ when he said recharge, but right now it felt better than a “recharge” with some casual relationship.
“No, I’m fine.”
The two separated and Jazz turned off the screen as Prowl walked to the berth and waited for him. “Inside or outside?” Jazz asked. Like any quarters, Jazz’s berth was pushed up against the wall.
“I’m aware that Ops mechs have a strong preference for being on the outside, so I don’t mind recharging on the inside.”
Prowl carefully slide towards the wall on the berth. Jazz waited, unsure how Prowl and he would fit together on account of those doorwings. Prowl, for his part, sized up Jazz and calculated how much space they would need to comfortably rest together. He flattened his doorwings and locked the servos in place so they wouldn’t gravitate to their natural position. “I hope you aren’t a restless mech,” Prowl teased, “or else my doorwings might hurt in the morning. If that happens then you’ll be sleeping on the inside, Ops mech or not.”
“Are you comfortable?” Jazz asked with concern.
“I’m fairly comfortable. My doorwings do not hurt in this position and they won’t so long as the servos aren’t under pressure. I just can’t roll because they won’t move with me. I don’t intend to though.”
Jazz grinned and carefully laid down on the berth. The black and white pair readjusted themselves so they were loosely laying in each other’s arms. The pair offlined moments later as they relaxed in the warm embrace.
/*’*’*/
Jazz stirred before onlining. ‘Mmm?’ A tugging sensation in his arm forced him awake and he powered on his optics. Prowl had started to roll over and his left doorwing was mildly pinching Jazz’s arm. Jazz carefully pulled the Praxian forward so he could free his arm and keep Prowl from unknowingly hurt himself. He was going to either have to recharge on the inside or need a bigger berth that could accommodate a mech who needed wider space. The second option sounded better even if it was harder to accomplish.
Not one for wasting moments, Jazz gazed at Prowl’s face, partially lit in the white-wash light filtering in from the door. Before him was a serene sight, with the light faintly glistening on Prowl’s tranquil face. Jazz couldn’t stop staring at the sleeping mech. Unwilling to resist his urge Jazz reached forward and lightly caressed the side hidden in the shadows. Unfortunately, Jazz’s fond moment was interrupted when he felt tightly clenched muscle cables under his partner’s facial plate.
‘What’s making him worried or stressed?’Jazz softly massaged the muscle cables until the tension in the muscle cables dissolved. Jazz couldn’t help but wonder what could be in the Praxian’s dreams. He considered a few possible causes but it didn’t take long to find a reason. Jazz knew Prowl was troubled by his sparker, and even though the matter was easily dismissed this evening that it didn’t mean it was gone.
Once again thinking about the matter, Jazz considered the questions he had about Smokescreen’s story about Blacksmoke. Why happened back then that caused Blacksmoke to suddenly change gears and leave a mission? Why would Blacksmoke urgently seek out a friend he had zero remaining ties except a dead past? Was he abandoning the critical mission or was he trying to get a message out before returning to finish it? Then there was Prowl’s numerous questions about the mech, but that in itself caused alarm for Jazz. How did someone miss that Blacksmoke had a sparkling named Prowl, the very same mech who became their SIC? Or did they actually miss it? Spec Ops mechs with young sparklings were barred from certain missions - the kind of missions that Blacksmoke was regularly involved in planning and executing. If Blacksmoke had a sparkling listed then he never would have been a part of those missions.
Unable to let the matter vanish again without further investigation, Jazz stealthily climbed out of the berth without disturbing Prowl. He slipped quietly out the doors and moved towards his office. There, he would have access to all of the Special Ops files, including the ones brought from Cybertron. Jazz began searching the files for the mission Blacksmoke was supposed to be midway through when he left.
‘File not found? What the Pit?’ That was a critical mission. How could it not be found? The Autobots had loaded information into the Ark’s computers when they were preparing to leave. They knew they had a finite amount of time so they loaded files starting with then-current plans and missions before working backwards, giving priorities to critical, urgent, or important missions and information. Either what he was searching for didn’t meet that criteria, which wasn’t right, or someone had prevented it from being stored in Teeletran.
Now Jazz was even more worried than earlier. This time he tried again but instead he ran search algorithms on all files looking for anything with Blacksmoke’s name or indications of trouble surrounding that timeframe.
‘Primus damn it!’ Jazz cursed after a while when the algorithms turned up nothing. His frustration was cut short a moment later when his internal alarm went off. He’d set up an alarm so he’d be back in his berth and recharging before Prowl onlined. His search had become fruitless anyways. It was clear he was going to have to get in touch with his remaining officers still stationed on Cybertron about the missing records.
Jazz quietly slipped back into his quarters and laid down on his berth. He pulled Prowl closer to him and rested his head on Prowl’s sprawled arm. Prowl murmured in his sleep and leaned into Jazz’s chest. Jazz smiled before beginning to cycle down for recharge. ‘Prowl, I don’t know if I can give you the answers you need, but I’ll find answers and I’ll do my best to give you want you need for closure.’