The Usurper's Secrets, Chapter 2
**Standard Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. Blacksmoke and the Special Ops mech characters on Cybertron are my OCs, 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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Prowl onlined first in the warm berth as his internal alarm sounded. He needed to leave Jazz’s quarters soon because it was almost time for a shift change, meaning that the other officers would be passing through the halls shortly. For that reason Prowl wanted to wake early so he could have one more moment with Jazz before they returned to their duties.
Now it was Prowl’s turn to look at a black and white mech recharging, this time with the early morning light filtering through the window. He was sprawled partially on his right side and back and his head tucked in, with his left leg hanging off the berth and dangling in the air. His right arm was loosely resting on Prowl’s arm with his left arm lying across his chest. The sight was sweet and amusing, but mostly just amusing. Prowl carefully reached out for a sensor node by Jazz’s left audio and gave it a feather light caress.
Immediately Jazz snickered and jerked his head. His left hand defensively shot up before relaxing and lazily pushing Prowl away. “You really like abusing that piece of knowledge,” Jazz grinned as his optics powered on.
“Of course. Really, it’s not a difficult concept. I’m surprised I seem to be the only one to consider the possibility that a mech with highly sensitive audios, or highly sensitive sensors for detecting sound wave vibrations, would be sensitive to all vibrations. Including those caused by touch. From what I gather, I believe humans call the sensation ‘tickling.’”
“Mmhmm.” Jazz stretched his legs and arms length-wise before rolling to his left. “Ack!” Jazz’s limbs shot out and his ped and hand managed to each catch the short berth posts before he fell off the berth. “Okay, somehow I am getting a bigger berth. I don’t know how I’m gonna do that without giving the real reason, but I wouldn’t be the head of Special Ops if I couldn’t find a creative solution.”
“I concur.” Prowl said with an airy tone of humor. After Jazz righted himself into a sitting position, he looked back at Prowl as the SIC continued. “Someone in your position should be able to find a solution to our problem without compromising our secret.”
“Oh, I see.” Jazz stood up and pulled Prowl with him. The Praxian stood and was able to finally relax his doorwing servos and stretch. As he did Jazz spoke again. “You want me to do all the work and reap the benefits.”
“It is the more efficient way to use our time,” Prowl pointed out as he finished stretching. “The sooner the better. My doorwings are quite stiff.”
Jazz asked anxiously, “Do they hurt?”
“No. Not to any extent that would prevent me from doing this again.”
“Okay, good.” Jazz decided to not tell Prowl how he had nearly hurt his doorwings while recharging. Instead, Jazz would do what he could to prevent the problem in the future. Even if the TIC had to lose some recharge it would be worth it if they could share a berth.
Jazz checked the time and gave a look of disappointment. “It appears our time together is up.”
“Sadly, it appears so,” Prowl agreed as he also checked the time.
Jazz leaned over and gave Prowl a light squeeze on the arm, mindful of Prowl’s boundaries. He learned a while back that the tactician wasn’t exactly one for physical affection early in the orn, the audio sensor thing notwithstanding. It seemed that Prowl was more receptive when things started coming to an end, perhaps because he would be winding down instead of winding up. “Maybe again, after my shift?” Jazz asked hopefully.
“I can spend some time with you, but I can’t stay long.”
“Why? I didn’t see you on the regular shift schedule.”
“I’ve been off the regular scheduled shifts for two orns in anticipation of Ratchet and Grapple finally finishing and submitting their lists of requirements for the new Medbay. Prime already gave orders to immediately begin the second stage once those two and Ironhide signed off on the first stage. Ironhide signed his portion two shifts ago and I was notified about Ratchet and Grapple when I was heading to your quarters.
“That means I need to pull several mechs off of duty and begin plans and proposals while Prime and selected team contact the human delegates to initiate meetings and conferences. Since Prime’s team must work to accommodate the humans’ shorter schedules, then that also means my team’s schedule will need to do the same. So for the time being, my schedule will be a bit too broken up for a regular schedule.”
“Slag,” Just twisted his face in discontent. “For how long?”
“Depends.”
“Really, Prowl? Don’t make me drag this out of you.”
“It depends on Ratchet, Prime, Grapple’s capabilities to build new equipment to spec with the limited materials available, and several other key issues, such as security. It also depends on the humans. I’m more concerned about the humans because this could involve many different human groups, such as international politicians, militaries, and suppliers.”
Jazz whistled. “So in other words it’ll be a long time before you and I get another evening like this one.”
“Depends.”
“Oh, ha ha.” Jazz rolled his optics under his visor and turned towards the door. Since it was his quarters he stepped out first and checked the area. “So are you on shift now or what?” Jazz asked as he moved away when the coast was clear. Prowl stepped out and moved to Jazz’s side, away from his quarters to appear as if he’d stopped by to talk to Jazz on his way out.
“I’m planning to start now. I expect that I will be getting off of one my shorter shifts a little after yours ends, and I’ll have to start my shift sooner than you as well.”
“Yeah. Sometimes I think we oughta acclimate our schedules to theirs, but then we’d just have new problems. Like havin’ really short shifts or dealing with Decepticons - I’m pretty sure they aren’t working on human schedules - or trying to coordinate things with Cybertron whenever we get the chance.”
“Speaking of Cybertron, it would help speed this up a great deal if you could find someone on Cybertron who can help us. There should still be salvageable equipment that Grapple can fix to Ratchet’s liking, and that would be a far more straight forward and quicker approach - even with the spacebridge issue. Prime wants us to focus on working with the humans on this project to build better relationships, but I find slowing down our only medical facility’s upgrade to be illogical. Even more so when you consider the problems we’ll encounter with Medbay under construction, and his intentions will only draw that out. There are other things we can squander our time over in an effort to build better relationships with the inhabitants of Earth. Things that won’t put lives at unnecessary risk.”
“Yeah, anything I can do. It’s not like I’ll have much to do anyways.” It was true. Now that Prime and Prowl were rapidly initiating the second stage, roughly a fourth of the base would immediately start working full time on this project and another fourth were on standby for whatever came up. That could potentially leave the remaining Autobots thinly spread out across the different shifts if things started to heat up. Jazz sighed. ‘Well, at least my shift - wait a klik…’
“Prowl…” Jazz asked wearily.
“Yes, Jazz?”
“Is my scheduled shift the same as it is now as it was when I went to recharge?” Jazz asked with some apprehension in his voice. The only officers who weren’t fully dedicated to this project were Ironhide and Red Alert and they just came off of their shifts.
“I’m sorry, Jazz, but given the awkward timing of the project and the shift change, this means you will be covering at least the full shift as well as the shift change, and you can only work routine items.”
‘What a crappy scheduling job,’ Jazz grumbled to himself. This wasn’t necessarily a onetime deal, either; Ironhide and Red Alert were also on standby for whenever plans and negotiations got to the part about beefing up Medbay’s security, leaving Jazz as the only officer not directly or indirectly involved in the project. That meant he would be stuck carrying the burden of nearly all the officers’ duties if the other two were pulled into the project, and that could result in double or even triple shifts. If not for the Autobots’ sake, then Jazz would do what he could for his sake. No one wants to pull a triple shift.
After exchanging goodbyes, Jazz’s with a little more ire, they parted ways. Prowl headed towards his quarters to pick up a datapad he left from his previous break, while Jazz headed straight to his office.
Jazz casually strolled to his office as he mentally checked his list of planned activities to see what he could do under the new restrictions. With no Decepticon activity there was basically only one approved activity for everyone: routine surveillance for the troops and reading routine reports for officers. The workload wasn’t the only thing that would be boring either; since almost everyone’s schedule deviated from the norm, there would be little to no trouble from the troops. The saboteur’s shifts would be pretty dull and light until the project was completed or if they discovered Decepticon activity.
Normally Jazz would find this a little depressing. However, in a way it all fit perfectly. Regular work didn’t need a command chain so there wasn’t anything for Jazz to actively do. With no operations to plan, the only reports being filed were the boring typical ones, and virtually no misbehaving mechs, Jazz was pretty much on the schedule just to be there.
That combined with Prowl asking him to find a way to get in touch with Cybertron gave Jazz the perfect opportunity and alibi for getting in touch with their home planet and figure out the black hole gravitating around Blacksmoke. He would still do what he could for the Medbay project, but he was also going to get to the bottom of his concerns about Special Ops on Cybertron, too.
After finishing the few short reports from those just ending their shifts, Jazz was ready to focus his attention elsewhere. ::Hey, Blaster:: Jazz sent the communications specialist a comm. message. Blaster was monitoring all outgoing and incoming frequencies, including any to and from Cybertron.
::Yo, what’s up my brotha?:: Blaster responded in his usual jovial fashion.
::I got a request from Prowl to help speed things up with Medbay, and I was hoping you could help me.::
::Yeah? In what way?:: Blaster asked casually.
::Well, you know how this Medbay thing could become a fiasco and get slowed down ‘cuz of politics and stuff? Prowl asked me to see if I could find a work-around through some of my old buddies on Cybertron. Gotta keep it on the down low, though, ‘K? Better to plea for Prime’s forgiveness and whatnot.:: Jazz said coolly. He didn’t want to raise any questions or concerns from Blaster.
::Hey, anything legal or legal-ish to get the job done quick - and with a happy Ratchet, ‘cuz you know it was done right if he’s happy. We need things to get back to normal around here fast, or as start being fun again. I’ve got communications monitoring duty practically every first shift, so I got you covered. Just lemme know when you’re establishing and disconnecting communications from Cybertron so I can warn ya if anything comes my way.::
::Awesome. Just remember to keep it to yourself. You know some mechs around here are major blabber mouths.:: Jazz turned his attention to his computer and began establishing a connection with Cybertron. This really was working out perfectly, or as close to perfect as possible. Jazz could do almost whatever he wanted without suspicion now that he had Prowl’s and Blaster’s buyoff. ‘Maybe if my lucks keep up I’ll even use this time to get a hold of a new berth at some point,’ Jazz thought as he waited.
After a short wait the connection began establishing contact with Cybertron. Jazz put in several old codes that were known by only Special Ops team members and a handful of senior officers. No matter where the main operations center for Special Ops moved, that set of codes would always re-route him and anyone else to the new location.
The image on his monitor screen morphed into video conference with a mech sitting in a florescent-lit room, the lights focused on the screens, leaving the farthest wall of the unfamiliar room weakly illuminated. The mech before him needed a repaint, but his burnt orange paint and deep green torso highlights faintly reflected the light from his sleek form, a show of the mech’s attempt to make the best of his appearance by polishing the paint he had left.
The mech’s tired facial expression brightened with joy, grinning from audio to audio, and his blue optics glowed brightly through the sharpshooter’s target system lens overlaying his optics. Unlike Jazz’s, this mech’s visor was only mildly tinted blue-grey and it ran straight across his optics with no contours following his facial structure. “Jazz!” the mech cried out, delighted at the sight of his commander.
Jazz returned the favor with his own smile. “Hi ya, Defilade. It’s been a long time.”
“No slag! What brings you here - er, well, so to speak?” Defilade asked, his voice failing miserably to contain his giddiness at the sight of Jazz’s friendly face.
Jazz chortled at the mech’s enthusiasm. Defilade was younger than most Autobots believed, with war artificially aging him even as a sparkling. However, around the sociable Jazz and without war hanging thick in the air, Defilade’s inner youth would bubble to the surface.
“I need to discuss a few things. I should probably start with the medical equipment stuff. Got anyone there who could help salvage some for me?”
Defilade pondered the request for a moment. “Yeah, but he’s tied up for now. Why don’t you give me a list of what you need and I’ll get it to him?”
“Okay. I’m going to transmit CMO Ratchet’s list of medical equipment and upgrades to you now.” Jazz sent Defilade Ratchet’s file. He waited until the young mech was able to pull up the file. “Now, that’s a list of what he needs to have in his Medical Bay. Whatever you guys can find or drudge up in the shortest amount of time that can be used, modified, or whatever for those means is good enough. We can work on them back here.”
“Okay, can do. How do I contact you when we’ve finally got it?”
“Let my first lieutenant and me worry about that. We need to do this carefully ‘cuz the only way to get that stuff from Cybertron to Earth is through the Decepticons’ spacebridge. Now, speaking of Vesicant, I need to have a word with him about another matter.”
“Okay, I’m send him a message letting him know you’re waiting for him.”
“Make sure you inform him that there’s a limited time window,” Jazz reminded Defilade, “so I can’t have him lollygagging.”
“What’s ‘lollygagging?’” Defilade asked after sending the top priority message to Vesicant.
“Umm… it’s a term the inhabitants of this planet use to describe wasting time,” Jazz said lamely, forgetting how much of his slang and colloquial expressions had changed since waking on Earth.
“Oh, neat. So you’re getting along with the natives, I take it?” the orange mech wondered.
“Yeah, and for future reference, they’re called ‘humans.’” Jazz and Defilade talked for a few more kliks before Vesicant practically bursted into the room from the dimly lit hallway.
“Jazz!” The new mech stared at Jazz with a transparent look of shock and worry, standing just barely within the light. Jazz hardly recognized the mech. Vesicant once had simple armor with a simple paint job of deep violet and grey-white. Now Vesicant’s paint was a blackened violet with his face, hands, midsection, and inner thighs colored a light grey. A vibrant indigo blue colored plate swept up along the lower center of his midsection into a point, ending where his black chest and grey midsection met. Both of his forearms had two twin lines of the same color spiraling upward from his wrists to his elbows, merging into a single line and traveling up his arm until it faded to a point just past his shoulders. The only thing that remained a grey-white was the Autobot sigil on his left arm’s shoulder. When Jazz saw him last, Vesicant was not an imposing mech, but now Vesicant’s stature radiated strength. It seemed that while Jazz was gone, Vesicant found his inner vanity - Sunstreaker-worthy vanity at that.
After recovering from his own shock, Jazz asked, “What’s with the worry, Vesicant?”
“I wasn’t expecting to hear from you. I thought communications with the Ark were very limited. We’ve been unable to build stable long-distance communications systems since being forced to relocated, let alone inter-stellar communications, so we haven’t been able to reach any remaining Autobot strongholds. You didn’t take any risks contacting us, did you?”
“No. We were able to repair and strengthen the Ark’s inter-stellar communications system. A Cybertron base was able to upgrade their communications system and link it to the other locations, so now the Ark can patch into all of the Autobot Cybertron networks. In fact, me reaching you means that you can do the same, too. I’m a little surprised you don’t know that, but it’s a recent upgrade so maybe they haven’t finished mapping the network to your area.” Jazz explained. “You need to establish a connection with them once we’re finished here.”
“Yes, we will make sure to connect with the rest of the forces then. I’m glad that you called because that’s very helpful to know,” Vesicant calmly stated. He turned to Defilade. “You’re excused. We need more mechs guarding the north wall.”
“Understood.” Defilade stood up and gave Jazz one last glance. “I’ll make sure that guy I mentioned earlier knows to check the list as soon as possible, so don’t you worry.”
After Defilade was dismissed, Vesicant spoke. “List?”
“Yeah, so I got a couple of things to talk to you,” Jazz said, shifting his position in his chair to look more squarely into his monitor. “First is that list. I need you to assemble and dispatch a team to find anything on the list I uploaded, or anything that can be modified or built from to meet CMO Ratchet’s requirements. It’s all medical equipment so I need it ASAP.”
His 1LT nodded. “Understood. I will have your orders cared out swiftly.”
“Good. Once that’s been established, I want you to contact me at 07:00 joors. You’ll get in contact with Blaster and he’ll patch you through to me.
“Now, there’s another matter I need to talk to you about,” Jazz changed the subject after Vesicant again nodded his acceptance of the plan. “Do you recall our efforts to load the Ark with everything critical, urgent, or on-going missions for Special Ops?”
“I do. I wasn’t there since I was working to free trapped evacuees in Iacon, but everyone knew about it. Every division was bombarding the Ark with as much intel as they could.”
“Yeah, it was a lot of intel. I was reviewing our files here to pull aside any within S.O. we need updated, and while I was searching I noticed that the files on the ‘Pathway: Echo’ mission were missing,” Jazz kept his tone neutral to mask his true intentions for looking at Blacksmoke’s last mission. “As I remember it, that mission was a failure and happened not that long before we left. Prime specifically ordered that all missions on-going or just prior to the Ark’s departure be loaded into the databases. Our Second-In-Command, Prowl, also issued an order to load critical and failed missions in addition for further tactical analysis. I don’t know how that file was missed given it met each of their own criteria, especially since I have every other file on that missions series. Still, regardless of however that happened, we’re out of compliance. I want that file provided to me.”
Vesicant’s mouth twitched as he expressed his troubled uncertainty. “I will do what I can, but a lot has happened since you left. As you may have noticed and as I’ve mentioned, this S.O. command post is more of a make-shift shelter. The Special Ops station you knew fell in a Decepticon attack and we were forced to retreat. We were overwhelmed and unable to save anything so we had to destroy our systems instead to prevent them from steal anything.”
Jazz frowned. “What about the facility we used to continually backup up all of our data before it fell? The remaining forces in Iacon still use that same facility to back up their data and they haven’t mentioned any problems. In fact, they’ve even pulled information for Prime from there recently. Now that you know you can communicate with the rest of the Autobot forces, you will be plenty capable of reaching that facility and retrieving any backed up copies of Special Ops files. ” It was impossible that the “Pathway: Echo” mission, also called “PEM”, wasn’t stored somewhere. The Pathway mission series had been critical in building hidden tunnels, or underground pathways, so the Autobots could stay mobile and move energon, back when the Decepticons controlled most of the surface. PEM was no different and it was devised to build a tunnel through the remains of one of the first places to be destroyed in the war; hence the name “Echo.”
“That’s quite true. I’ll send a request to the facility for everything we have stored on those missing files and have them sent it back here.”
“Good, because not only are we out of compliance, but I also found what appears to be a major discrepancy with two separately filed reports that directly or indirectly include PEM. One of the reports indicates that an assigned operative deserted the mission.” Jazz carefully constructed the conversation.
Vesicant gave Jazz a quizzical look. “Where did you see that?”
“One of the reports is from our operations outline of the Pathway missions, and the other is old report about an attack on Iacon a little before the Ark’s departure. In the Iacon report it lists one of our Ops, Blacksmoke, as a casualty. Yet, according to the operations outline report, there were two operatives assigned to ‘Echo’ and one happens to be Blacksmoke. We may have lost a few mechs during those missions, but I remember their bodies were found in the tunnels.” Jazz said, using half-truths. The Special Ops had a saying: if you don’t know who did it, you assume anyone could’ve done it. Whoever tampered with the S.O. files could be at that command post now. Even though Vesicant could not have tampered with the files himself since he lacked the opportunity and means, there was no telling who did and what the lieutenant might unintentionally - or perhaps even intentionally - say to alert them.
“Hmmm…” Vesicant considered the new information. “I’ll see what I can find.”
“Do that. And make sure you include Blacksmoke’s personnel file and everything related to him. If the report is true, then I want to know why he left the mission. If his disappearance is not directly linked to the mission, then it may have been him and I need to consider the implications.” Jazz wanted to know just how much of Blacksmoke’s history had been kept out of his files. He would also be able scrutinize the report and see if there was ever information about Blacksmoke having a sparkling that was later deleted.
“Understood. Is there anything else you’d like from us?” the dark violet mech asked.
Jazz considered the question. “Are there any missions or activities going on now?”
“No.” Vesicant quickly shook his head. “We’ve finally managed to regroup and now we’re working on fortifying our position. The attack was not recent but it took us longer than expected to find a secured location and gather our scattered teams and operatives. We’ve been following Prime’s last order on Cybertron and only cared out defense missions.”
“I see. Then why did the base get overrun with Decepticons and why were we so scattered, especially if all missions were meant to maintain a defensive line?”
“We lent our services out too much to uphold other positions and that’s how this whole mess happened.”
“I see.” Jazz repeated with a frown, internally criticizing Vesicant for ignoring that 10/15 rule. Prime’s first strategist had determined long ago that at any given time no more than 10% of a command post’s total soldier population should be on missions away from the base, and no more than 15% should be off duty. Prowl would be angry if he knew about Vesicant’s foolishness. It appeared that in finding his internal sense of vanity that Vesicant lost some of his ability to perform his duties. “Is that why Defilade looks so disheveled?”
“He was one of the last to return. He was on a mission in Kaon when the attack occurred so it took him longer to find us.”
“What mission?” Jazz demanded. “Was it successful?”
“I will give you that report as well when I retrieve the other, and no; Def decided to abandon the mission when he was no longer able to receive information from us.” Jazz could hear the faint annoyance in Ves’ voice.
“Okay.” Jazz rubbed the bridge of his nose, discouraged by the deterioration of his Corp that remained on Cybertron. He decided he needed more time to consider what he’d learn along with everything else. “I want a full report on Def’s latest mission, especially since it was in Kaon. In fact, I want all S.O. activity since I left, and I want everything we’ve just discussed no later than two orns from now. That includes a report out on the progress of gathering the medical equipment. Make sure you send me the information at 07:00 joors within the next two orns.”
“I’ll have someone get on it right away. The information on Defilade’s mission’s information is easy enough to get, and two orns should be sufficient for us to get everything we backed up on PEM.”
“Great. Have Def send me the information.” Jazz wanted to speak to Defilade again. The young mech would be willing to fill him in on everything, down even to who’s been overly cranky and why Vesicant made such a grievous error that cost them an important command center.
Vesicant gave Jazz a final promise to have Defilade send him the results on time before Jazz terminated the connection. After taking a moment to lean back into his chair and relax, Jazz sent a comm. message to Blaster. ::Hey, my man. I’m done. FYI, there should be a transmission from Cybertron at 07:00 joors for me, either during your next shift or the following one. If you don’t have one by 07:30 joors on your second shift, then I want to know immediately.::
::Got it. If anything comes in for you then I’ll patch it straight through.::
Jazz turned his attention back to his black screen. ‘At least I accomplished the first step into making some headway in solvin’ a problem important to the Autobots on Earth. And another one for me and maybe even Prowl,’ he thought, focusing on the positive. There were still questions those files couldn’t readily answer, but at least he was getting a large chunk of the information he needed to help him piece together a small list of suspects. Unfortunately, he’d also discovered this wouldn’t be the last of his problems to solve. He needed to resolve what’s going on with his Corp and fast.
Now he just had to wait out his boring and quiet shifts until Defilade reported back to him. The wait was going to drive him mad without any distractions.
\~’~’~\
The command room became silent as his commander terminated the communication line. Vesicant walked to the monitors and began accessing hidden files. Working diligently, Vesicant swiftly leafed through several files before isolating three separate reports and confirming his suspicions. He opened a communications line from the monitor to another Special Ops mech currently out on patrols. “Blue Bark,” Vesicant hailed over a private line to a handheld video communication device, “we have a major problem. The kind that needs your kind of attention.”
“Oh?” asked his ghostly grey colored and trusted ally. His face was obscured in the underground refuse but his voice peaked with curiosity.
“Jazz has established contact. He’s insisting on getting all of the information about the mission ‘Pathway: Echo’ and Defilade’s recent failed mission.”
“How could he know about those?”
“As for the first, I don’t know, but I told him about Defilade.”
“Why in the pit would you do that?” The tone in Blue Bark’s voice said in no uncertainty that he thought Vesicant was an idiot.
“I told him to control how he discovered the information. The conversation was already moving the wrong way, and I knew he’d insist on talking to Defilade and there’s no way that mech wouldn’t spill the bolts to Jazz. Def may not understand what’s going on, but Jazz is certainly capable of putting it together. Odds are that Defilade would tell Jazz about it at the next opportunity and Jazz will demand to know everything at the mention of ‘Kaon’. At least this way he won’t be as suspicious of me.” Vesicant explained.
“Alright… he thinks you’re dumb but whatever. What do you want me to do about it?”
“As you know, I had one of my mechs make sure to sever Jazz from any real S.O. information once he left on the Ark. I want to know how he suddenly knows something that, until now, we’ve been very successful in keeping it away from Jazz. Something that never made it onto the Ark. I want you to find out how Jazz knows about PEM, Blacksmoke, and how that piece of slag ruined my ultimate goal for PEM. He claims he saw Blacksmoke listed on a casualty list in another attack, but that’s a lie. I made damn sure that Blacksmoke’s name didn’t appear in those reports.”
“Got anything in mind?”
“Actually, I do.” Vesicant switched the image output so Blue Bark could see what was on Vesicant’s screen to follow along. He pulled up an old roster and two older reports. “You see this name?” Vesicant highlighted one of the names on the Ark’s departure roster. “And you see these reports? The report on the left is the original report that includes Blacksmoke’s death. We intercepted it before it was seen by anyone, and the report on the right is after we changed it. As you can tell, all evidence of Blacksmoke has been removed. That is a copy of the only official report on the attack.” Vesicant paused for a moment to let Blue Bark study the two reports. “See something in common with the roster and the original report, but doesn’t exist in the official one?”
“Yeah. The name Smokescreen.”
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
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Prowl onlined first in the warm berth as his internal alarm sounded. He needed to leave Jazz’s quarters soon because it was almost time for a shift change, meaning that the other officers would be passing through the halls shortly. For that reason Prowl wanted to wake early so he could have one more moment with Jazz before they returned to their duties.
Now it was Prowl’s turn to look at a black and white mech recharging, this time with the early morning light filtering through the window. He was sprawled partially on his right side and back and his head tucked in, with his left leg hanging off the berth and dangling in the air. His right arm was loosely resting on Prowl’s arm with his left arm lying across his chest. The sight was sweet and amusing, but mostly just amusing. Prowl carefully reached out for a sensor node by Jazz’s left audio and gave it a feather light caress.
Immediately Jazz snickered and jerked his head. His left hand defensively shot up before relaxing and lazily pushing Prowl away. “You really like abusing that piece of knowledge,” Jazz grinned as his optics powered on.
“Of course. Really, it’s not a difficult concept. I’m surprised I seem to be the only one to consider the possibility that a mech with highly sensitive audios, or highly sensitive sensors for detecting sound wave vibrations, would be sensitive to all vibrations. Including those caused by touch. From what I gather, I believe humans call the sensation ‘tickling.’”
“Mmhmm.” Jazz stretched his legs and arms length-wise before rolling to his left. “Ack!” Jazz’s limbs shot out and his ped and hand managed to each catch the short berth posts before he fell off the berth. “Okay, somehow I am getting a bigger berth. I don’t know how I’m gonna do that without giving the real reason, but I wouldn’t be the head of Special Ops if I couldn’t find a creative solution.”
“I concur.” Prowl said with an airy tone of humor. After Jazz righted himself into a sitting position, he looked back at Prowl as the SIC continued. “Someone in your position should be able to find a solution to our problem without compromising our secret.”
“Oh, I see.” Jazz stood up and pulled Prowl with him. The Praxian stood and was able to finally relax his doorwing servos and stretch. As he did Jazz spoke again. “You want me to do all the work and reap the benefits.”
“It is the more efficient way to use our time,” Prowl pointed out as he finished stretching. “The sooner the better. My doorwings are quite stiff.”
Jazz asked anxiously, “Do they hurt?”
“No. Not to any extent that would prevent me from doing this again.”
“Okay, good.” Jazz decided to not tell Prowl how he had nearly hurt his doorwings while recharging. Instead, Jazz would do what he could to prevent the problem in the future. Even if the TIC had to lose some recharge it would be worth it if they could share a berth.
Jazz checked the time and gave a look of disappointment. “It appears our time together is up.”
“Sadly, it appears so,” Prowl agreed as he also checked the time.
Jazz leaned over and gave Prowl a light squeeze on the arm, mindful of Prowl’s boundaries. He learned a while back that the tactician wasn’t exactly one for physical affection early in the orn, the audio sensor thing notwithstanding. It seemed that Prowl was more receptive when things started coming to an end, perhaps because he would be winding down instead of winding up. “Maybe again, after my shift?” Jazz asked hopefully.
“I can spend some time with you, but I can’t stay long.”
“Why? I didn’t see you on the regular shift schedule.”
“I’ve been off the regular scheduled shifts for two orns in anticipation of Ratchet and Grapple finally finishing and submitting their lists of requirements for the new Medbay. Prime already gave orders to immediately begin the second stage once those two and Ironhide signed off on the first stage. Ironhide signed his portion two shifts ago and I was notified about Ratchet and Grapple when I was heading to your quarters.
“That means I need to pull several mechs off of duty and begin plans and proposals while Prime and selected team contact the human delegates to initiate meetings and conferences. Since Prime’s team must work to accommodate the humans’ shorter schedules, then that also means my team’s schedule will need to do the same. So for the time being, my schedule will be a bit too broken up for a regular schedule.”
“Slag,” Just twisted his face in discontent. “For how long?”
“Depends.”
“Really, Prowl? Don’t make me drag this out of you.”
“It depends on Ratchet, Prime, Grapple’s capabilities to build new equipment to spec with the limited materials available, and several other key issues, such as security. It also depends on the humans. I’m more concerned about the humans because this could involve many different human groups, such as international politicians, militaries, and suppliers.”
Jazz whistled. “So in other words it’ll be a long time before you and I get another evening like this one.”
“Depends.”
“Oh, ha ha.” Jazz rolled his optics under his visor and turned towards the door. Since it was his quarters he stepped out first and checked the area. “So are you on shift now or what?” Jazz asked as he moved away when the coast was clear. Prowl stepped out and moved to Jazz’s side, away from his quarters to appear as if he’d stopped by to talk to Jazz on his way out.
“I’m planning to start now. I expect that I will be getting off of one my shorter shifts a little after yours ends, and I’ll have to start my shift sooner than you as well.”
“Yeah. Sometimes I think we oughta acclimate our schedules to theirs, but then we’d just have new problems. Like havin’ really short shifts or dealing with Decepticons - I’m pretty sure they aren’t working on human schedules - or trying to coordinate things with Cybertron whenever we get the chance.”
“Speaking of Cybertron, it would help speed this up a great deal if you could find someone on Cybertron who can help us. There should still be salvageable equipment that Grapple can fix to Ratchet’s liking, and that would be a far more straight forward and quicker approach - even with the spacebridge issue. Prime wants us to focus on working with the humans on this project to build better relationships, but I find slowing down our only medical facility’s upgrade to be illogical. Even more so when you consider the problems we’ll encounter with Medbay under construction, and his intentions will only draw that out. There are other things we can squander our time over in an effort to build better relationships with the inhabitants of Earth. Things that won’t put lives at unnecessary risk.”
“Yeah, anything I can do. It’s not like I’ll have much to do anyways.” It was true. Now that Prime and Prowl were rapidly initiating the second stage, roughly a fourth of the base would immediately start working full time on this project and another fourth were on standby for whatever came up. That could potentially leave the remaining Autobots thinly spread out across the different shifts if things started to heat up. Jazz sighed. ‘Well, at least my shift - wait a klik…’
“Prowl…” Jazz asked wearily.
“Yes, Jazz?”
“Is my scheduled shift the same as it is now as it was when I went to recharge?” Jazz asked with some apprehension in his voice. The only officers who weren’t fully dedicated to this project were Ironhide and Red Alert and they just came off of their shifts.
“I’m sorry, Jazz, but given the awkward timing of the project and the shift change, this means you will be covering at least the full shift as well as the shift change, and you can only work routine items.”
‘What a crappy scheduling job,’ Jazz grumbled to himself. This wasn’t necessarily a onetime deal, either; Ironhide and Red Alert were also on standby for whenever plans and negotiations got to the part about beefing up Medbay’s security, leaving Jazz as the only officer not directly or indirectly involved in the project. That meant he would be stuck carrying the burden of nearly all the officers’ duties if the other two were pulled into the project, and that could result in double or even triple shifts. If not for the Autobots’ sake, then Jazz would do what he could for his sake. No one wants to pull a triple shift.
After exchanging goodbyes, Jazz’s with a little more ire, they parted ways. Prowl headed towards his quarters to pick up a datapad he left from his previous break, while Jazz headed straight to his office.
Jazz casually strolled to his office as he mentally checked his list of planned activities to see what he could do under the new restrictions. With no Decepticon activity there was basically only one approved activity for everyone: routine surveillance for the troops and reading routine reports for officers. The workload wasn’t the only thing that would be boring either; since almost everyone’s schedule deviated from the norm, there would be little to no trouble from the troops. The saboteur’s shifts would be pretty dull and light until the project was completed or if they discovered Decepticon activity.
Normally Jazz would find this a little depressing. However, in a way it all fit perfectly. Regular work didn’t need a command chain so there wasn’t anything for Jazz to actively do. With no operations to plan, the only reports being filed were the boring typical ones, and virtually no misbehaving mechs, Jazz was pretty much on the schedule just to be there.
That combined with Prowl asking him to find a way to get in touch with Cybertron gave Jazz the perfect opportunity and alibi for getting in touch with their home planet and figure out the black hole gravitating around Blacksmoke. He would still do what he could for the Medbay project, but he was also going to get to the bottom of his concerns about Special Ops on Cybertron, too.
After finishing the few short reports from those just ending their shifts, Jazz was ready to focus his attention elsewhere. ::Hey, Blaster:: Jazz sent the communications specialist a comm. message. Blaster was monitoring all outgoing and incoming frequencies, including any to and from Cybertron.
::Yo, what’s up my brotha?:: Blaster responded in his usual jovial fashion.
::I got a request from Prowl to help speed things up with Medbay, and I was hoping you could help me.::
::Yeah? In what way?:: Blaster asked casually.
::Well, you know how this Medbay thing could become a fiasco and get slowed down ‘cuz of politics and stuff? Prowl asked me to see if I could find a work-around through some of my old buddies on Cybertron. Gotta keep it on the down low, though, ‘K? Better to plea for Prime’s forgiveness and whatnot.:: Jazz said coolly. He didn’t want to raise any questions or concerns from Blaster.
::Hey, anything legal or legal-ish to get the job done quick - and with a happy Ratchet, ‘cuz you know it was done right if he’s happy. We need things to get back to normal around here fast, or as start being fun again. I’ve got communications monitoring duty practically every first shift, so I got you covered. Just lemme know when you’re establishing and disconnecting communications from Cybertron so I can warn ya if anything comes my way.::
::Awesome. Just remember to keep it to yourself. You know some mechs around here are major blabber mouths.:: Jazz turned his attention to his computer and began establishing a connection with Cybertron. This really was working out perfectly, or as close to perfect as possible. Jazz could do almost whatever he wanted without suspicion now that he had Prowl’s and Blaster’s buyoff. ‘Maybe if my lucks keep up I’ll even use this time to get a hold of a new berth at some point,’ Jazz thought as he waited.
After a short wait the connection began establishing contact with Cybertron. Jazz put in several old codes that were known by only Special Ops team members and a handful of senior officers. No matter where the main operations center for Special Ops moved, that set of codes would always re-route him and anyone else to the new location.
The image on his monitor screen morphed into video conference with a mech sitting in a florescent-lit room, the lights focused on the screens, leaving the farthest wall of the unfamiliar room weakly illuminated. The mech before him needed a repaint, but his burnt orange paint and deep green torso highlights faintly reflected the light from his sleek form, a show of the mech’s attempt to make the best of his appearance by polishing the paint he had left.
The mech’s tired facial expression brightened with joy, grinning from audio to audio, and his blue optics glowed brightly through the sharpshooter’s target system lens overlaying his optics. Unlike Jazz’s, this mech’s visor was only mildly tinted blue-grey and it ran straight across his optics with no contours following his facial structure. “Jazz!” the mech cried out, delighted at the sight of his commander.
Jazz returned the favor with his own smile. “Hi ya, Defilade. It’s been a long time.”
“No slag! What brings you here - er, well, so to speak?” Defilade asked, his voice failing miserably to contain his giddiness at the sight of Jazz’s friendly face.
Jazz chortled at the mech’s enthusiasm. Defilade was younger than most Autobots believed, with war artificially aging him even as a sparkling. However, around the sociable Jazz and without war hanging thick in the air, Defilade’s inner youth would bubble to the surface.
“I need to discuss a few things. I should probably start with the medical equipment stuff. Got anyone there who could help salvage some for me?”
Defilade pondered the request for a moment. “Yeah, but he’s tied up for now. Why don’t you give me a list of what you need and I’ll get it to him?”
“Okay. I’m going to transmit CMO Ratchet’s list of medical equipment and upgrades to you now.” Jazz sent Defilade Ratchet’s file. He waited until the young mech was able to pull up the file. “Now, that’s a list of what he needs to have in his Medical Bay. Whatever you guys can find or drudge up in the shortest amount of time that can be used, modified, or whatever for those means is good enough. We can work on them back here.”
“Okay, can do. How do I contact you when we’ve finally got it?”
“Let my first lieutenant and me worry about that. We need to do this carefully ‘cuz the only way to get that stuff from Cybertron to Earth is through the Decepticons’ spacebridge. Now, speaking of Vesicant, I need to have a word with him about another matter.”
“Okay, I’m send him a message letting him know you’re waiting for him.”
“Make sure you inform him that there’s a limited time window,” Jazz reminded Defilade, “so I can’t have him lollygagging.”
“What’s ‘lollygagging?’” Defilade asked after sending the top priority message to Vesicant.
“Umm… it’s a term the inhabitants of this planet use to describe wasting time,” Jazz said lamely, forgetting how much of his slang and colloquial expressions had changed since waking on Earth.
“Oh, neat. So you’re getting along with the natives, I take it?” the orange mech wondered.
“Yeah, and for future reference, they’re called ‘humans.’” Jazz and Defilade talked for a few more kliks before Vesicant practically bursted into the room from the dimly lit hallway.
“Jazz!” The new mech stared at Jazz with a transparent look of shock and worry, standing just barely within the light. Jazz hardly recognized the mech. Vesicant once had simple armor with a simple paint job of deep violet and grey-white. Now Vesicant’s paint was a blackened violet with his face, hands, midsection, and inner thighs colored a light grey. A vibrant indigo blue colored plate swept up along the lower center of his midsection into a point, ending where his black chest and grey midsection met. Both of his forearms had two twin lines of the same color spiraling upward from his wrists to his elbows, merging into a single line and traveling up his arm until it faded to a point just past his shoulders. The only thing that remained a grey-white was the Autobot sigil on his left arm’s shoulder. When Jazz saw him last, Vesicant was not an imposing mech, but now Vesicant’s stature radiated strength. It seemed that while Jazz was gone, Vesicant found his inner vanity - Sunstreaker-worthy vanity at that.
After recovering from his own shock, Jazz asked, “What’s with the worry, Vesicant?”
“I wasn’t expecting to hear from you. I thought communications with the Ark were very limited. We’ve been unable to build stable long-distance communications systems since being forced to relocated, let alone inter-stellar communications, so we haven’t been able to reach any remaining Autobot strongholds. You didn’t take any risks contacting us, did you?”
“No. We were able to repair and strengthen the Ark’s inter-stellar communications system. A Cybertron base was able to upgrade their communications system and link it to the other locations, so now the Ark can patch into all of the Autobot Cybertron networks. In fact, me reaching you means that you can do the same, too. I’m a little surprised you don’t know that, but it’s a recent upgrade so maybe they haven’t finished mapping the network to your area.” Jazz explained. “You need to establish a connection with them once we’re finished here.”
“Yes, we will make sure to connect with the rest of the forces then. I’m glad that you called because that’s very helpful to know,” Vesicant calmly stated. He turned to Defilade. “You’re excused. We need more mechs guarding the north wall.”
“Understood.” Defilade stood up and gave Jazz one last glance. “I’ll make sure that guy I mentioned earlier knows to check the list as soon as possible, so don’t you worry.”
After Defilade was dismissed, Vesicant spoke. “List?”
“Yeah, so I got a couple of things to talk to you,” Jazz said, shifting his position in his chair to look more squarely into his monitor. “First is that list. I need you to assemble and dispatch a team to find anything on the list I uploaded, or anything that can be modified or built from to meet CMO Ratchet’s requirements. It’s all medical equipment so I need it ASAP.”
His 1LT nodded. “Understood. I will have your orders cared out swiftly.”
“Good. Once that’s been established, I want you to contact me at 07:00 joors. You’ll get in contact with Blaster and he’ll patch you through to me.
“Now, there’s another matter I need to talk to you about,” Jazz changed the subject after Vesicant again nodded his acceptance of the plan. “Do you recall our efforts to load the Ark with everything critical, urgent, or on-going missions for Special Ops?”
“I do. I wasn’t there since I was working to free trapped evacuees in Iacon, but everyone knew about it. Every division was bombarding the Ark with as much intel as they could.”
“Yeah, it was a lot of intel. I was reviewing our files here to pull aside any within S.O. we need updated, and while I was searching I noticed that the files on the ‘Pathway: Echo’ mission were missing,” Jazz kept his tone neutral to mask his true intentions for looking at Blacksmoke’s last mission. “As I remember it, that mission was a failure and happened not that long before we left. Prime specifically ordered that all missions on-going or just prior to the Ark’s departure be loaded into the databases. Our Second-In-Command, Prowl, also issued an order to load critical and failed missions in addition for further tactical analysis. I don’t know how that file was missed given it met each of their own criteria, especially since I have every other file on that missions series. Still, regardless of however that happened, we’re out of compliance. I want that file provided to me.”
Vesicant’s mouth twitched as he expressed his troubled uncertainty. “I will do what I can, but a lot has happened since you left. As you may have noticed and as I’ve mentioned, this S.O. command post is more of a make-shift shelter. The Special Ops station you knew fell in a Decepticon attack and we were forced to retreat. We were overwhelmed and unable to save anything so we had to destroy our systems instead to prevent them from steal anything.”
Jazz frowned. “What about the facility we used to continually backup up all of our data before it fell? The remaining forces in Iacon still use that same facility to back up their data and they haven’t mentioned any problems. In fact, they’ve even pulled information for Prime from there recently. Now that you know you can communicate with the rest of the Autobot forces, you will be plenty capable of reaching that facility and retrieving any backed up copies of Special Ops files. ” It was impossible that the “Pathway: Echo” mission, also called “PEM”, wasn’t stored somewhere. The Pathway mission series had been critical in building hidden tunnels, or underground pathways, so the Autobots could stay mobile and move energon, back when the Decepticons controlled most of the surface. PEM was no different and it was devised to build a tunnel through the remains of one of the first places to be destroyed in the war; hence the name “Echo.”
“That’s quite true. I’ll send a request to the facility for everything we have stored on those missing files and have them sent it back here.”
“Good, because not only are we out of compliance, but I also found what appears to be a major discrepancy with two separately filed reports that directly or indirectly include PEM. One of the reports indicates that an assigned operative deserted the mission.” Jazz carefully constructed the conversation.
Vesicant gave Jazz a quizzical look. “Where did you see that?”
“One of the reports is from our operations outline of the Pathway missions, and the other is old report about an attack on Iacon a little before the Ark’s departure. In the Iacon report it lists one of our Ops, Blacksmoke, as a casualty. Yet, according to the operations outline report, there were two operatives assigned to ‘Echo’ and one happens to be Blacksmoke. We may have lost a few mechs during those missions, but I remember their bodies were found in the tunnels.” Jazz said, using half-truths. The Special Ops had a saying: if you don’t know who did it, you assume anyone could’ve done it. Whoever tampered with the S.O. files could be at that command post now. Even though Vesicant could not have tampered with the files himself since he lacked the opportunity and means, there was no telling who did and what the lieutenant might unintentionally - or perhaps even intentionally - say to alert them.
“Hmmm…” Vesicant considered the new information. “I’ll see what I can find.”
“Do that. And make sure you include Blacksmoke’s personnel file and everything related to him. If the report is true, then I want to know why he left the mission. If his disappearance is not directly linked to the mission, then it may have been him and I need to consider the implications.” Jazz wanted to know just how much of Blacksmoke’s history had been kept out of his files. He would also be able scrutinize the report and see if there was ever information about Blacksmoke having a sparkling that was later deleted.
“Understood. Is there anything else you’d like from us?” the dark violet mech asked.
Jazz considered the question. “Are there any missions or activities going on now?”
“No.” Vesicant quickly shook his head. “We’ve finally managed to regroup and now we’re working on fortifying our position. The attack was not recent but it took us longer than expected to find a secured location and gather our scattered teams and operatives. We’ve been following Prime’s last order on Cybertron and only cared out defense missions.”
“I see. Then why did the base get overrun with Decepticons and why were we so scattered, especially if all missions were meant to maintain a defensive line?”
“We lent our services out too much to uphold other positions and that’s how this whole mess happened.”
“I see.” Jazz repeated with a frown, internally criticizing Vesicant for ignoring that 10/15 rule. Prime’s first strategist had determined long ago that at any given time no more than 10% of a command post’s total soldier population should be on missions away from the base, and no more than 15% should be off duty. Prowl would be angry if he knew about Vesicant’s foolishness. It appeared that in finding his internal sense of vanity that Vesicant lost some of his ability to perform his duties. “Is that why Defilade looks so disheveled?”
“He was one of the last to return. He was on a mission in Kaon when the attack occurred so it took him longer to find us.”
“What mission?” Jazz demanded. “Was it successful?”
“I will give you that report as well when I retrieve the other, and no; Def decided to abandon the mission when he was no longer able to receive information from us.” Jazz could hear the faint annoyance in Ves’ voice.
“Okay.” Jazz rubbed the bridge of his nose, discouraged by the deterioration of his Corp that remained on Cybertron. He decided he needed more time to consider what he’d learn along with everything else. “I want a full report on Def’s latest mission, especially since it was in Kaon. In fact, I want all S.O. activity since I left, and I want everything we’ve just discussed no later than two orns from now. That includes a report out on the progress of gathering the medical equipment. Make sure you send me the information at 07:00 joors within the next two orns.”
“I’ll have someone get on it right away. The information on Defilade’s mission’s information is easy enough to get, and two orns should be sufficient for us to get everything we backed up on PEM.”
“Great. Have Def send me the information.” Jazz wanted to speak to Defilade again. The young mech would be willing to fill him in on everything, down even to who’s been overly cranky and why Vesicant made such a grievous error that cost them an important command center.
Vesicant gave Jazz a final promise to have Defilade send him the results on time before Jazz terminated the connection. After taking a moment to lean back into his chair and relax, Jazz sent a comm. message to Blaster. ::Hey, my man. I’m done. FYI, there should be a transmission from Cybertron at 07:00 joors for me, either during your next shift or the following one. If you don’t have one by 07:30 joors on your second shift, then I want to know immediately.::
::Got it. If anything comes in for you then I’ll patch it straight through.::
Jazz turned his attention back to his black screen. ‘At least I accomplished the first step into making some headway in solvin’ a problem important to the Autobots on Earth. And another one for me and maybe even Prowl,’ he thought, focusing on the positive. There were still questions those files couldn’t readily answer, but at least he was getting a large chunk of the information he needed to help him piece together a small list of suspects. Unfortunately, he’d also discovered this wouldn’t be the last of his problems to solve. He needed to resolve what’s going on with his Corp and fast.
Now he just had to wait out his boring and quiet shifts until Defilade reported back to him. The wait was going to drive him mad without any distractions.
\~’~’~\
The command room became silent as his commander terminated the communication line. Vesicant walked to the monitors and began accessing hidden files. Working diligently, Vesicant swiftly leafed through several files before isolating three separate reports and confirming his suspicions. He opened a communications line from the monitor to another Special Ops mech currently out on patrols. “Blue Bark,” Vesicant hailed over a private line to a handheld video communication device, “we have a major problem. The kind that needs your kind of attention.”
“Oh?” asked his ghostly grey colored and trusted ally. His face was obscured in the underground refuse but his voice peaked with curiosity.
“Jazz has established contact. He’s insisting on getting all of the information about the mission ‘Pathway: Echo’ and Defilade’s recent failed mission.”
“How could he know about those?”
“As for the first, I don’t know, but I told him about Defilade.”
“Why in the pit would you do that?” The tone in Blue Bark’s voice said in no uncertainty that he thought Vesicant was an idiot.
“I told him to control how he discovered the information. The conversation was already moving the wrong way, and I knew he’d insist on talking to Defilade and there’s no way that mech wouldn’t spill the bolts to Jazz. Def may not understand what’s going on, but Jazz is certainly capable of putting it together. Odds are that Defilade would tell Jazz about it at the next opportunity and Jazz will demand to know everything at the mention of ‘Kaon’. At least this way he won’t be as suspicious of me.” Vesicant explained.
“Alright… he thinks you’re dumb but whatever. What do you want me to do about it?”
“As you know, I had one of my mechs make sure to sever Jazz from any real S.O. information once he left on the Ark. I want to know how he suddenly knows something that, until now, we’ve been very successful in keeping it away from Jazz. Something that never made it onto the Ark. I want you to find out how Jazz knows about PEM, Blacksmoke, and how that piece of slag ruined my ultimate goal for PEM. He claims he saw Blacksmoke listed on a casualty list in another attack, but that’s a lie. I made damn sure that Blacksmoke’s name didn’t appear in those reports.”
“Got anything in mind?”
“Actually, I do.” Vesicant switched the image output so Blue Bark could see what was on Vesicant’s screen to follow along. He pulled up an old roster and two older reports. “You see this name?” Vesicant highlighted one of the names on the Ark’s departure roster. “And you see these reports? The report on the left is the original report that includes Blacksmoke’s death. We intercepted it before it was seen by anyone, and the report on the right is after we changed it. As you can tell, all evidence of Blacksmoke has been removed. That is a copy of the only official report on the attack.” Vesicant paused for a moment to let Blue Bark study the two reports. “See something in common with the roster and the original report, but doesn’t exist in the official one?”
“Yeah. The name Smokescreen.”