Dare to dream 2
Dare to dream
Beta: Starfire 201
Continuation: AU, G1
Genre: Drama, adventure
Characters: Prowl and Jazz
Wordcount: 14 850
Summary: Life in Kaon is hard, tragic and more often than not short. Kaonite Enforcer Jazz knows all that and navigates the streets with experience. But when a Praxian officer on the hunt for a dangerous killer comes to visit some things can't be ignored any longer.
"Softkey," whispered Jazz in horror and then stopped forward to catch the poor mech before he crashed to the ground. "Softkey..." Gently, he carried him to the wall, cleared a bit of trash from the ground and lowered him down.
Concerned, Prowl knelt down next to Softkey. "Shall we call a medic? This looks serious."
"And who pays for the medic?" snapped Jazz, while reaching deep into his subspace. "No, Ah can help him." He pulled out a cube of energon, still half full and placed it at Softkey's lips. "Hey, dear, just drink. It's energon."
The last word seemed to do something to the poor mech and he gripped the cube with both servos and nearly ripped it out of Jazz's hands. Curling protectively around the cube, Softkey started to gulp down the energon at a speed that had to hurt his tanks.
The two Enforcers watched in silence, two black and white guardians to a sick and weak mech. A few mechs passed them, but the moment they recognised the Enforcers they hurried on, never looking for longer than absolutely necessary. It was a typical Kaon survival tactic: Don't look. Don't care. Don't stop.
"I've never seen a case of energon depletion this bad," admitted the Praxian with a whisper so only Jazz would hear it. "Doesn't he work?"
Jazz's visor became a bit darker. "Softkey does work, but as a pleasure bot. He fled the last brothel he was in, because of the abuse and came to us, but we couldn't really do anything. No proof and all." No proof and enough credits changing servos that no one was inclined to search for it, too. "Tried ta help him, but there wasn't much Ah could do. Frankly, Ah'm impressed that he's still alive."
Before them, Softkey had emptied the cube and had now started to tremble and moan, a normal reaction to energy rushing through the system and reactivating modules that had already been put into stasis. He would be out for a few breems longer.
"Are the rates for freelancing pleasure bots that bad in Kaon?" asked the Praxian officer.
"Worse. They charge half a cube for a single interface."
Prowl's head snapped towards Jazz. "Impossible. One burns half a cube of fuel per interface. They wouldn't have enough to function."
Jazz pointed at Softkey. "Case in point." He sighed. "If ya don't overload during an interface and accept the pain of the overcharge, ya only burn 35 per cent of a cube. So they make 0.15 gain for a single interface."
For the first time Prowl showed a significant amount of distress. "A mech needs roughly one cube per orn. That would mean he has to interface at least seven times an orn without overloading a single time. The pain of this must be enormous!"
As if Jazz didn't already now that. "It is," he simply said and put a gentle hand on Softkey's helmet. Even as far occupied as his processor was, the mech still flinched away from the touch.
Softkey was an unusually well-built mech. Even without any colour and in need of a good wash, an inherent beauty was showing through. It was this beauty that had probably kept him alive for this long. Slowly, light was returning to the green optics and Softkey came back to their world.
"Jazz...?" he whispered.
"Good morning, Softkey," greeting the Enforcer with a smile and a tone designed to calm down. "How are you?"
"... everything hurts," answered the pleasure bot with a rough voice, which was clearly used to screaming loud and long. "But that's normal. What are you doing here?"
"Just crossed yar path by chance," said Jazz. "By the way, the mech next to ma is Prowl, a Praxian Enforcer."
Softkey's helmet turned slowly to the Praxian. "Nice to meet you, officer."
Prowl acknowledged the greeting with a short nod.
"Softkey," said Jazz softly. "When we found ya, ya were nearly completely depleted. Mind telling me what happened?"
Softkey looked down into his lap, then he shook his head. "Nothing much, really. Just... didn't find a customer for eight joors and the one I just had left without paying."
Jazz cursed.
Softkey put a hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault, Jazz, really. You've done as always more than enough."
"Ah know." The Enforcer vented deeply. "Ah just wished..." He stopped, and sighed. "It doesn't matter what Ah wish for. Softkey, ya have to change yar life. Ya can't continue like that."
This sparked anger inside Softkey. "Don't you think I know that? Do you think I enjoy my life as a whore, which doesn't even have enough rep to be paid?"
"No," Jazz hastily said. "But -"
"But what?!" interrupted Softkey. "There are no jobs and no gang wanted to have a weak pleasure bot, and that was before I hit the streets. I don't have the frame to be a gladiator and I just refuse to become some drug experiment. I know how those usually end up and I'd rather take my chance in the streets!"
"Ya could join the Decepticons," Jazz offered quietly and Softkey froze. A bit farther behind, the Praxian Enforcer had the same reaction. "They're on a recruitment drive and taking every mech in. And at least they'll keep ya alive."
For a sparkbeat the pleasurebot looked at the dirty ground, then his optics flickered. "They'll turn me into something I am not. Into a soldier..."
"Probably," agreed Jazz quietly.
"Do you really think that living is worth it to become... a killer?" Softkey asked brokenly.
Jazz sighed. "I don't know. That's something only you can answer." He stood up. "Maybe ya don't have to kill."
Softkey laughed, low and grating, more a bark than anything else. "Do ya really believe that?"
"...No."
"See."
Jazz sighed, his spark hurting for the mech that he, in another world would've loved to have had as a friend. "Ah just don't see another way for ya. Ah'm sorry, really. Just think about it, alright?" Softkey didn't answer. Jazz sighed, his spark constricting even more. "Okay. We have ta go now, already lost too much time. Ah hope ya make it somehow. Bye, Softkey."
Why did good-bye words always feel so empty? He turned away, trying to ignore he spark, as he heard Softkey say: "Stop."
He stopped and looked back, not daring to hope yet. "What is it?"
Softkey slowly stood up and leant against the wall, but his optics were bright with determination. "Do you have the address of their recruitment office?"
Relief flooded Jazz as he answered: "Yes."
Two breems later, Prowl and Jazz were walking down the alleys side by side. The silence between them had turned from comfortable to icy, and the wings on the Praxian's back hadn't lowered a single centimetre from the high that clearly said: I'm angry. Jazz secretly had to admit that these wings were usual to detect his companion's mood, because his face was just an unchanging mask.
When yet another breem passed, Jazz had finally had enough.
"Prowl, Ah get that you're angry, but could you quit yar acting and talk to ma like a normal mech?"
He didn't really expect the Praxian to grab his shoulder armour and to throw him into the next wall. Granted, the wall wasn't very far off, but still Jazz could only blink in surprise as the other Enforcer glared at him.
"Talk to you? I just had to observe how you bullied an innocent mech into joining an organisation outlawed by the Prime himself vorns ago!" snarled Prowl.
"Yeah, right, and?" Jazz pushed himself away from the wall. He wouldn't be intimidated by this upper-class mech. "It's not like Softkey had many choices besides deactivating."
If possible, the wings raised higher. "That doesn't matter. You're an Enforcer, sworn to be loyal to Prime. Joining the Decepticons should've never been mentioned by you!"
"Sure. But I've also sworn to protect, remember?" said the Kaonite icily. "What do you want me do, simply watch as Softkey deactivates?" Prowl only glowered silently at him and Jazz continued: "If I had seen any other way for Softkey to survive, I would've told him that. But there. Is. None." And wasn't that a sad and terrifying truth.
The Praxian Enforcer vented, then shook his helmet. "There has to be one. One about charity organisations? There are hundreds in Kaon."
Jazz wanted to laugh, but had the distinct feeling that it wouldn't help in this situation. "Yep. But they're all already busy with just the bad cases. They're not taking new mechs in."
"What case can be worse than a mech lesst han a joor away from starving to death?" asked Prowl incredulously. Something in his stance told Jazz that he didn't really want to hear the answer. Pity, that Jazz was going to deliver it any way:
"Sparklings and younglings starving to death, what else? Life expectancy is so low in Kaon, that most younglings lose their parents before they reach adulthood. Then these organisations jump right in and try to save what is there to save." Jazz's voice turned bitter and he looked away from the Praxian down the dark, dirty alley they were in. It was seemingly empty, but he knew that they were observed by fearful mechs, and probably also some scared younglings. Enforcers had some pretty bad reputations in some quarters. Often they were even deserved. "Not that they can reach all, or even manage to do such a good job besides keeping them alive. But hey, that's already more than anyone else does and who cares about abuse, neglect and if every vorn a few younglings vanish?"
The Praxian stared in something akin to horror at his partner. "You have to be lying. The Prime would never stand for such conditions."
"Never met the Prime," Jazz answered. "But as far as I can see - yes, he does."
While the rest of the planet had moved on and enjoyed the Golden Age with its riches and glory, Kaon had always worked, mocked and later forgotten by the other big city states. Sure, in those times they had enough fuel and health care, but they had worked hard and long hours. When the economy had taken a turn for the worse, the senators had taken one long at the energon distribution and saw that Kaon was using far more than any other city state. They reduced that amount with the smart reason that it would make the most impact and really, Kaon afterwards still had more than any other city state, no need to complain, right? That Kaon was using the energon in production, that its mechs were mainly big, heavy working mechs with large tanks, had never occured to these mechs. This started Kaon's rapid downfall that had never been stopped.
Prowl had observed the Kaonite Enforcer in front of him and then shook his head. "Well, I have met Optimus Prime and I can tell you, he would be appalled by the conditions here."
"Then why doesn't he change them?" Jazz asked, voicing the one, desperate question all Kaonites had carried around with them for so long. Until Megatron had told them the answer: Because he doesn't want to. Jazz's visor darkened at this and to banish the thoughts he looked at his Praxian companion again: "Do you wish any other explanations about Softkey?"
"Just one. Why don't you all leave Kaon?"
"And go where?" asked the Kaonite tiredly. "Kaonites are seen as lazy at best and criminals at worst, no one wants to employ us even if we by some luck had the education necessary for the job. Not to mention that one needs fuel or credits for the journey, and that's something most do not have."
Prowl nodded and seemed to contemplate what Jazz had said. "That's probably true."
The admission settled their dispute and together they walked on. The area remained bad, but most mechs hurried to avoid crossing their path. No one challenged them, no one spoke to them. Once they saw a mech carrying a sparkling, but he disappeared into a side alley fast, the sparkling gazing at them with wide curious optics.
No one here used an altmode and it showed. The ground was covered with litter and worse, while the walls often became too narrow for two altmodes to pass each other comfortably. Even though mechs fled from them, the streets were far from silent. Music, laughter, screams, or simply conversations echoed down the walls, becoming distorted and alien. Once, they passed beneath a black metal sheet that showed the Decepticon sign and the glyphs "Megatron for us all".
"We're nearly there," Jazz suddenly said only two alleys further down. "Just follow my lead and we'll be fine."
Prowl nodded. "What can I expect?"
Jazz shrugged. "We're now in Black Scabbard's territory. The biggest gang around here, controls everything in from drugs to prostitution. Their boss is Scourge, a really intelligent mech and an even better fighter. It's also said that he as a bit of a temper, one should be careful about."
A deep chuckle stopped the two Enforcers right in their tracks. "All true, all true." From a previously dark side alley, a huge black mech stepped out. Thick armour which was easily Grade Five or higher covered every inch of his body and in his servo he held a blaster. On his shoulders were the by now familiar symbols of the Decepticons. "Long time no see, Jazz."
The Enforcer smiled rather weakly. "Scourge, hey, didn't see you there."
"That was what I wanted." Scourge's burning red optics wandered to the Praxian enforcer. "My guards already told me you're bringing an unusual guest. An Enforcer Prax in Kaon, I've heard jokes that began like that." The gang boss grinned unpleasantly. "I guess the Prax has a good reason to be here."
"He has," confirmed Jazz who refused to be intimidated. To show weakness was a death sentence in this milieu. "We're searching for a Praxian serial killer called Glint."
"Interesting," said Scourge and his optics became brighter. "I have many killers among my mechs, but none have reached that title yet. Tell me, what did that mech to do be hunted across half the planet?" The gang boss didn't really sound concerned over the matter, but more like he was impressed.
Prowl twitched at the admission of having murderers among the gang, but Jazz ignored the statement with the ease of having already known. Every gang had assassins and killer and murderers here. It was just a matter of how controllable and powerful they were.
"He killed eight mechs and four younglings, all from behind and without reason but enjoyment," explained Jazz. "Glint's an uncontrollable danger to everyone, and a coward. Is that enough?"
"He's Praxian, that alone would've been enough, but a coward too?" Scourge frowned. "This is not a mech I will waste our fuel on. If this Glint is anywhere near our territory, he'll be shot down and brought to the Enforcer station as an example." A sharp grin. "My mechs love a good hunt, maybe he can provide one. I trust the Enforcers will look the other way in this case?"
Jazz had the sudden desire to punch this mech. But he couldn't, he had a job to do and that meant negotiating. "Sure, as long as ya catch him," he said instead. "Here is his pic and personal data." He gave Scourge the datapad. "That would've been all. We're then already on our way."
Scourge took the datapad without glancing at it. "You already want to leave us so soon, Jazz? Don't tell me that you're new friend has claimed all of your time."
That wasn't good. Not good at all. Jazz smiled anyway. "Well, not really, but ya know how it is, insane killer to hunt, reports to write, and never enough time."
"Of course I do." Scourge took a step towards him, and was now far nearer than Jazz wanted him to be. "But I thought you would've time to chat at least with a few old friends." He leaned forward, down to Jazz. "And family."
He could barely hide his flinch. He didn't have any family left but a single, stupid mech that he still couldn't help but love. "Ah wasn't aware that you had any family of mine in your gang, Scourge," he said coolly, trying to calm his suddenly racing spark.
"Not directly in my gang, but on visit certainly." The red optics glittered with malicious mirth. "I'm sure he would love to see you."
Before Jazz could retort, he heard a near silent "Jazz" from behind him. He stopped and looked back to his Praxian companion, just to see that now they were far from alone. In the alley behind them lounged several mechs who all observed the scene with Scourge very attentively. As they saw his look, they smirked and one or two even waved. Worse, far too many of them he knew by designation, which wouldn't help any besides knowing who would shoot them if Jazz did any wrong step.
Slag this, Jazz thought. Then he turned back to Scourge. "Ah don't think Ah can say no to such a lovely invitation."
Scourge straightened up. "You're always a welcomed guest, Jazz."
The gang boss started walking down the street, signaling that everyone should follow him. Without additional orders, the gang members began to surround the two Enforcers while chatting and laughing with each other, weapons always at hand.
Prowl, next to Jazz, seemed stressed. "What was this about your family, Jazz?" he hissed. "And where is he leading us?"
"Don't know where we're going," he answered grimly. "And family, well I only have one mech left. He wasn't a Black Scabbard last I checked, but he always liked changing allegiances."
"This isn't very reassuring," said the Praxian drily.
Jazz expected more hurtful comments, but instead Prowl remained silent and half a step behind him, clearly covering his back. It felt strange to have someone at his back, and he couldn't help but wonder if Prowl would really protect him - and found that yes, he could see this mech doing it. What irony, considering that most Kaonite Enforcers wouldn't dream of showing such loyalty to each other. It just wasn't the Kaonite way. Still, this Praxian was behind him and it calmed Jazz down as much as few things ever had done.
Scourge led them to an old house, which was corroding just as everything else in Kaon. Nothing really distinguished it from the houses left and right. Scourge entered first and Prowl and Jazz followed without much of a choice. The gang members though remained outside.
"Jazz!" exclaimed a very happy voice loudly. Before the Enforcer could react, arms were hugging him. "Jazz, mech, I would've never thought to meet you here of all places. What are you doing in gang territory, aren't you still a honest good Enforcer?"
Jazz tried to get the mech off him and look into his face. It was startingly similar to his own, it even had a red visor. Just his colours were different, dark red and grey, both healthy and vibrant. "Ricochet," Jazz greeted the mech and he couldn't stop the honest smile on his face. "Ya look good."
"Ah know," answered Ricochet without a hint of modesty. "One of us two has to keep up the amazing party reputations of our creators, ya know." An amused grin. "But then Ah do remember a few times when ya were far from boring at a party..."
"Ah have to let ya know that Ah can still be the life of any party," joked Jazz.
"Sure, sure." Ricochet smiled. "Come on, sit down first and your friend as well. He's a Prax, right? Have never seen a Prax Enforcer before."
"I'm only here for a case," said Prowl.
Ricochet led them deeper into the room. As poor as the building had seemed from the outside, the inside left no question open who it belonged to. Huge signs of black paintings of swords were on the walls and the whole room was filled with couches, cushions and blankets. The light was pretty dim and a sweet smell was in the air, the telling smell of Orinox, a very popular drug. This was probably something of a meeting or common room for the gang. But just what was Ricochet doing here? Jazz discreetly looked his frame over, but he couldn't see any gang marks - but he found without difficulty the obvious purple sign of the Decepticons. It surprised him less than it probably should have.
They settled down on some of the couches, Ricochet, Scourge on one side of the table and them on the other side. Scourge winked at a small, light red bot who scurried away to somewhere.
"A case, uh?" said Ricochet. "Let me guess, a big, bad mech...?" He grinned and Scourge laughed.
"Not so big," answered Jazz less amused. "But very bad." He leaned back into the couch as if he was comfortable in the setting. At his side, he noticed that the Praxian didn't bother to pretend that he wasn't tense, every mech with too optics could see it in his entirely stiff doorwings. Somehow that amused him. "Say Ricochet, what are ya doing here? Nothing against the Black Scabbards, really, but last Ah checked ya weren't one."
"Still aint, Jazz," admitted Ricochet. "But Scourge and Ah are now part of something bigger and better, ain't that right, Scourge?"
"Sure." At the side, the little servant from before had come back and brought a plate with several very strange looking cubes, colourful crystals and a few synriges even. Drugs. Scourge took the plate and offered it his guests: "Do you want some? Just take them, this is best quality."
Prowl looked appalled and Jazz hastily said: "No, thanks, we Enforcers still have to take the drug test every decaorn. Wouldn't want ta lose the job over something like this, ya understand?"
Scourge looked angry for a moment, but then Ricochet took a rainbow coloured cube from the plate. "Yar loss, Jazz, these are some of the best of all of Kaon." Ricochet shook his head in mock regret. "As Ah said, we're now all part of something better - the Decepticons!" He raised the cube: "For Megatron, for us!" Then he emptied the cube in one go and smiled brightly.
"For Megatron," agreed Scourge and emptied his own cube.
Prowl narrowed his opics. "So you're all Decepticons now?"
"Everyone here," agreed Ricochet. "The whole Black Scabbard gang and many others. Soon there will be no others left." He looked at Jazz. "Brother, ya should really join soon, too. The times are changing in Kaon, finally and ya don't wanna be left behind."
This was very true and the signs were everywhere. "I know," he said.
"Really?" Ricochet seemed relieved. "Ya know, Ah could get ya in real easy. Ah'm even now an official recruiter of the Decepticons, they pay me credits and not just energon. Isn't that great?" For a moment he seemed so very proud that it broke Jazz's spark. "They're really the future."
"That they are," agreed Scourge. "Megatron is changing things and making them better. Showing these upper class mechs that we exist and have a right to do more than just work."
Jazz had never taken Scourge for a mech concerned with things like justice or social equality. Maybe he had underestimated the mech. Maybe he had underestimated them all. "I've heard a few speeches of Megatron," he said reluctantly, acutely aware that they would accept nothing but agreement of their view.
Ricochet, who had just taken an orange crystal, looked up in interest. "Which one? They're all good, of course, but a few are just great."
"The best is the one where he stands in front of the city hall," mentioned Scourge. "What was it called..."
"Dare to dream," said Ricochet. "And Megatron is right. We should dare to dream of more than just the question where we get the energon for the next few orns. We should dream bigger, of a different life than this!"
This. This was Kaon. This was them. This.
It resonated deep down with Jazz and he would himself nodding. How many dreams did he bury? Did every other Kaonite bury? And it wasn't even the big dreams that hurt the most. No. What really hurt were when it should've been reachable, doable for every mech on the planet and you tried with everything you were able to give only to fail, because you were in Kaon. These small dreams like seeing your sparkling grow up, living in an apartment with two rooms instead of one, having enough energon to be able to celebrate on your centurion day... these are the things that really hurt and left scars.
Dare to dream.
When had Kaon stopped dreaming? When had hope left?
Ricochet and Scourge had been talking on, while Jazz sat there,drowning in his own thoughts and sparkdeep pain. Now, he shook his helmet to clear it and asked: "Ric, do ya have that speech?"
"That speech?" asked his brother, but then understood: "Oh, sure Ah have. Usually I demand a credit for it, but as ya're my bro, ya get it for nothing." He threw something at Jazz. "Ya'll love it, Ah promise ya. It's... as if his words are magic. They make a feel alive!"
"Thanks," Jazz smiled. "Ah owe ya one."
"Ah, don't worry. All is repaid when ya finally join." Ricochet looked at him,suddenly intense. "Ya will join, right?"
"Sure." It wasn't as if there were any other choices. Kaon was changing, the power balance was shifting and it would be beyond stupid to resist. He stood up. "Ya can come over and explain it all ta me, if ya like. But for now we still have a big, bad mech to catch."
"Sure, no need to keep ya here for longer," said Ricochet with a glance to Scourge, who nodded after a moment of hesitation. "Let ya friend watch it as well, yes? We can always use more mechs, even from other city states."
"I will gladly watch it," said Prowl without any inflection at all. Jazz was absolutely sure that his partner was lying, but thankfully the Decepticons didn't seem to notice it.
They weren't stopped when they walked outside. Dozens of optics followed their steps and in turn Jazz stared back. For the first time he noticed an additional sign on many plates. It was small, less of a declaration of allegiance than a private sign. It was a single glyph, mostly held in silver or black: Dream.
Dare to dream.
He couldn't forget the words, even when they walked away.
They walked in silence for a while, and with every step Jazz grew tenser. Far from forgotten were the accusations Prowl at thrown at him earlier, when he had told Softkey to join the Decepticons. To discover that his own brother wasn't just one, but a recruiter was worse. But without a doubt, worst was the fact that Jazz was seriously considering it.
Yet Prowl stayed silent and simply walked at Jazz's side. In the end it was Jazz who broke the silence with something unexpected: "Ya know, it's kind of my fault that Ricochet is like that."
Prowl raised an optic ridge. "How can that be your fault?"
"Easy. Ah kinda raised him." As Prowl's face grew only more disbelieving, he hurried to continue: "Really. Our creators were well-off Kaonites. They had been codewriters before the slowdown and later became really good code hackers. But they wanted Rico and me to lead an honest life and so they paid for my Enforcer career. Ah was good enough to get invited to Iacon University as one of the ten most promising Enforcers."
These ten young mechs were chosen every decavorn from all new Enforcers and formed a squad. Every member in said squad was trained in a certain area of advanced knowledge to which only few mechs ever had access to.
"Impressive." Prowl smiled. "I myself was invited to fill the slot of a tactician."
Jazz blinked and then smiled back. "Doesn't surprise ma, ya just have this certain air around ya."
"Wish I could say the same," admitted Prowl with an embarrassed doorwing flutter. "In my defence, I did learn over the last few joors that you're far more than the stupid Kaonite Enforcer that I first thought you to be."
Jazz stared. "Eh... thank you?"
"You're welcome. If I may ask, what was your specialisation?"
"Sabotage." He shrugged. "It seems that Ah got the talent of ma creators to get into places Ah shouldn't be."
Prowl gave him an unreadable glance. "Indeed. So, how does all this tie in with Ricochet?"
"Ah. Well, during the time Ah was in Iacon our creators botched a job and were killed. Ah got the message pretty fast, packed and hurried with the last of ma credits back to Kaon." Jazz's face became darker. "Ah wasn't fast enough. Ric had been all alone as a youngling in Kaon and had fallen in with a streetgang to survive. Things had happened to him and he was never again my little innocent brother. Still Ah took him in, gave him energon, but... well. My salary as an Enforcer is enough to fuel maself, but not ma and a growing youngling. More often than not he got his energon from other places and did odd jobs to stay alive." Jazz sighed, remembering these desperate orns with feelings of regret and infinite sadness. "Not surprisingly, he stopped going to school and came less and less ta ma, until he had practically moved out without ever saying so. From then on Ah only saw him by chance or when he decided to visit ma, because he was down on his luck."
The Praxian Enforcer next to him nodded. "Sometimes there are no happy endings. But I still fail to see how this was your fault?"
Jazz looked at his companion. How to explain the burning certainty that he hadn't done enough, that he did the wrong thing and said too many harsh words? How to describe the feeling that they all should've been some little happy family?
"Do ya have a cohort or family?" he asked, trying to find a similarity.
"No." And there was a tinge of regret in that word. "Praxus's Enforcers are all created by Vector Sigma to ensure that we're impartial."
This boggled Jazz's processor for a moment. Vector Sigma created mechs were expensive, especially as they were not forced to go into the job they were created for. The price for Praxus Enforcers must be astronomical. But to also imagine that there was no one who really cared about 'you' when you took your first steps was a scary thought. "Ya must have been lonely as a youngling," he commented.
"Sometimes." Prowl's wings flicked. "Do you consider joining the Decepticons because of a sense of duty for your brother?"
So he hadn't forgotten. That would've made things too easy. "No. I consider because what Ric said was right. Times are changing and the Decepticons will be the new rulers of Kaon."
"Is this the only reason?" asked Prowl, deceptively gently. For a crazy moment, Jazz wanted to tell him everything. The mech was a good interrogator, Jazz noticed. Very good.
"Yes," he lied and again heard the words ringing inside his cortex: Dare to dream.
What were his dreams anyway?
He couldn't answer this question. Instead he concentrated on the now, as always:
"We've now covered most of Kaon. The word will be out in a few joors and even the other gangs will know. But if ya want we can visit their bosses too to be sure."
Prowl shook his head. "If you say it's not necessary, then I trust your judgement. I would like to visit a few other places though, like the Energon plant. Is it possible for Glint to steal from there?"
"No." The answer was delivered with absolute certainty. He gave Prowl a long, contemplating look. "But I can show you the plant anyway. It's only a small detour."
Prowl nodded. "That would be good for my later report. Thank you."
Dare to Dream: Part 3
Beta: Starfire 201
Continuation: AU, G1
Genre: Drama, adventure
Characters: Prowl and Jazz
Wordcount: 14 850
Summary: Life in Kaon is hard, tragic and more often than not short. Kaonite Enforcer Jazz knows all that and navigates the streets with experience. But when a Praxian officer on the hunt for a dangerous killer comes to visit some things can't be ignored any longer.
"Softkey," whispered Jazz in horror and then stopped forward to catch the poor mech before he crashed to the ground. "Softkey..." Gently, he carried him to the wall, cleared a bit of trash from the ground and lowered him down.
Concerned, Prowl knelt down next to Softkey. "Shall we call a medic? This looks serious."
"And who pays for the medic?" snapped Jazz, while reaching deep into his subspace. "No, Ah can help him." He pulled out a cube of energon, still half full and placed it at Softkey's lips. "Hey, dear, just drink. It's energon."
The last word seemed to do something to the poor mech and he gripped the cube with both servos and nearly ripped it out of Jazz's hands. Curling protectively around the cube, Softkey started to gulp down the energon at a speed that had to hurt his tanks.
The two Enforcers watched in silence, two black and white guardians to a sick and weak mech. A few mechs passed them, but the moment they recognised the Enforcers they hurried on, never looking for longer than absolutely necessary. It was a typical Kaon survival tactic: Don't look. Don't care. Don't stop.
"I've never seen a case of energon depletion this bad," admitted the Praxian with a whisper so only Jazz would hear it. "Doesn't he work?"
Jazz's visor became a bit darker. "Softkey does work, but as a pleasure bot. He fled the last brothel he was in, because of the abuse and came to us, but we couldn't really do anything. No proof and all." No proof and enough credits changing servos that no one was inclined to search for it, too. "Tried ta help him, but there wasn't much Ah could do. Frankly, Ah'm impressed that he's still alive."
Before them, Softkey had emptied the cube and had now started to tremble and moan, a normal reaction to energy rushing through the system and reactivating modules that had already been put into stasis. He would be out for a few breems longer.
"Are the rates for freelancing pleasure bots that bad in Kaon?" asked the Praxian officer.
"Worse. They charge half a cube for a single interface."
Prowl's head snapped towards Jazz. "Impossible. One burns half a cube of fuel per interface. They wouldn't have enough to function."
Jazz pointed at Softkey. "Case in point." He sighed. "If ya don't overload during an interface and accept the pain of the overcharge, ya only burn 35 per cent of a cube. So they make 0.15 gain for a single interface."
For the first time Prowl showed a significant amount of distress. "A mech needs roughly one cube per orn. That would mean he has to interface at least seven times an orn without overloading a single time. The pain of this must be enormous!"
As if Jazz didn't already now that. "It is," he simply said and put a gentle hand on Softkey's helmet. Even as far occupied as his processor was, the mech still flinched away from the touch.
Softkey was an unusually well-built mech. Even without any colour and in need of a good wash, an inherent beauty was showing through. It was this beauty that had probably kept him alive for this long. Slowly, light was returning to the green optics and Softkey came back to their world.
"Jazz...?" he whispered.
"Good morning, Softkey," greeting the Enforcer with a smile and a tone designed to calm down. "How are you?"
"... everything hurts," answered the pleasure bot with a rough voice, which was clearly used to screaming loud and long. "But that's normal. What are you doing here?"
"Just crossed yar path by chance," said Jazz. "By the way, the mech next to ma is Prowl, a Praxian Enforcer."
Softkey's helmet turned slowly to the Praxian. "Nice to meet you, officer."
Prowl acknowledged the greeting with a short nod.
"Softkey," said Jazz softly. "When we found ya, ya were nearly completely depleted. Mind telling me what happened?"
Softkey looked down into his lap, then he shook his head. "Nothing much, really. Just... didn't find a customer for eight joors and the one I just had left without paying."
Jazz cursed.
Softkey put a hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault, Jazz, really. You've done as always more than enough."
"Ah know." The Enforcer vented deeply. "Ah just wished..." He stopped, and sighed. "It doesn't matter what Ah wish for. Softkey, ya have to change yar life. Ya can't continue like that."
This sparked anger inside Softkey. "Don't you think I know that? Do you think I enjoy my life as a whore, which doesn't even have enough rep to be paid?"
"No," Jazz hastily said. "But -"
"But what?!" interrupted Softkey. "There are no jobs and no gang wanted to have a weak pleasure bot, and that was before I hit the streets. I don't have the frame to be a gladiator and I just refuse to become some drug experiment. I know how those usually end up and I'd rather take my chance in the streets!"
"Ya could join the Decepticons," Jazz offered quietly and Softkey froze. A bit farther behind, the Praxian Enforcer had the same reaction. "They're on a recruitment drive and taking every mech in. And at least they'll keep ya alive."
For a sparkbeat the pleasurebot looked at the dirty ground, then his optics flickered. "They'll turn me into something I am not. Into a soldier..."
"Probably," agreed Jazz quietly.
"Do you really think that living is worth it to become... a killer?" Softkey asked brokenly.
Jazz sighed. "I don't know. That's something only you can answer." He stood up. "Maybe ya don't have to kill."
Softkey laughed, low and grating, more a bark than anything else. "Do ya really believe that?"
"...No."
"See."
Jazz sighed, his spark hurting for the mech that he, in another world would've loved to have had as a friend. "Ah just don't see another way for ya. Ah'm sorry, really. Just think about it, alright?" Softkey didn't answer. Jazz sighed, his spark constricting even more. "Okay. We have ta go now, already lost too much time. Ah hope ya make it somehow. Bye, Softkey."
Why did good-bye words always feel so empty? He turned away, trying to ignore he spark, as he heard Softkey say: "Stop."
He stopped and looked back, not daring to hope yet. "What is it?"
Softkey slowly stood up and leant against the wall, but his optics were bright with determination. "Do you have the address of their recruitment office?"
Relief flooded Jazz as he answered: "Yes."
Two breems later, Prowl and Jazz were walking down the alleys side by side. The silence between them had turned from comfortable to icy, and the wings on the Praxian's back hadn't lowered a single centimetre from the high that clearly said: I'm angry. Jazz secretly had to admit that these wings were usual to detect his companion's mood, because his face was just an unchanging mask.
When yet another breem passed, Jazz had finally had enough.
"Prowl, Ah get that you're angry, but could you quit yar acting and talk to ma like a normal mech?"
He didn't really expect the Praxian to grab his shoulder armour and to throw him into the next wall. Granted, the wall wasn't very far off, but still Jazz could only blink in surprise as the other Enforcer glared at him.
"Talk to you? I just had to observe how you bullied an innocent mech into joining an organisation outlawed by the Prime himself vorns ago!" snarled Prowl.
"Yeah, right, and?" Jazz pushed himself away from the wall. He wouldn't be intimidated by this upper-class mech. "It's not like Softkey had many choices besides deactivating."
If possible, the wings raised higher. "That doesn't matter. You're an Enforcer, sworn to be loyal to Prime. Joining the Decepticons should've never been mentioned by you!"
"Sure. But I've also sworn to protect, remember?" said the Kaonite icily. "What do you want me do, simply watch as Softkey deactivates?" Prowl only glowered silently at him and Jazz continued: "If I had seen any other way for Softkey to survive, I would've told him that. But there. Is. None." And wasn't that a sad and terrifying truth.
The Praxian Enforcer vented, then shook his helmet. "There has to be one. One about charity organisations? There are hundreds in Kaon."
Jazz wanted to laugh, but had the distinct feeling that it wouldn't help in this situation. "Yep. But they're all already busy with just the bad cases. They're not taking new mechs in."
"What case can be worse than a mech lesst han a joor away from starving to death?" asked Prowl incredulously. Something in his stance told Jazz that he didn't really want to hear the answer. Pity, that Jazz was going to deliver it any way:
"Sparklings and younglings starving to death, what else? Life expectancy is so low in Kaon, that most younglings lose their parents before they reach adulthood. Then these organisations jump right in and try to save what is there to save." Jazz's voice turned bitter and he looked away from the Praxian down the dark, dirty alley they were in. It was seemingly empty, but he knew that they were observed by fearful mechs, and probably also some scared younglings. Enforcers had some pretty bad reputations in some quarters. Often they were even deserved. "Not that they can reach all, or even manage to do such a good job besides keeping them alive. But hey, that's already more than anyone else does and who cares about abuse, neglect and if every vorn a few younglings vanish?"
The Praxian stared in something akin to horror at his partner. "You have to be lying. The Prime would never stand for such conditions."
"Never met the Prime," Jazz answered. "But as far as I can see - yes, he does."
While the rest of the planet had moved on and enjoyed the Golden Age with its riches and glory, Kaon had always worked, mocked and later forgotten by the other big city states. Sure, in those times they had enough fuel and health care, but they had worked hard and long hours. When the economy had taken a turn for the worse, the senators had taken one long at the energon distribution and saw that Kaon was using far more than any other city state. They reduced that amount with the smart reason that it would make the most impact and really, Kaon afterwards still had more than any other city state, no need to complain, right? That Kaon was using the energon in production, that its mechs were mainly big, heavy working mechs with large tanks, had never occured to these mechs. This started Kaon's rapid downfall that had never been stopped.
Prowl had observed the Kaonite Enforcer in front of him and then shook his head. "Well, I have met Optimus Prime and I can tell you, he would be appalled by the conditions here."
"Then why doesn't he change them?" Jazz asked, voicing the one, desperate question all Kaonites had carried around with them for so long. Until Megatron had told them the answer: Because he doesn't want to. Jazz's visor darkened at this and to banish the thoughts he looked at his Praxian companion again: "Do you wish any other explanations about Softkey?"
"Just one. Why don't you all leave Kaon?"
"And go where?" asked the Kaonite tiredly. "Kaonites are seen as lazy at best and criminals at worst, no one wants to employ us even if we by some luck had the education necessary for the job. Not to mention that one needs fuel or credits for the journey, and that's something most do not have."
Prowl nodded and seemed to contemplate what Jazz had said. "That's probably true."
The admission settled their dispute and together they walked on. The area remained bad, but most mechs hurried to avoid crossing their path. No one challenged them, no one spoke to them. Once they saw a mech carrying a sparkling, but he disappeared into a side alley fast, the sparkling gazing at them with wide curious optics.
No one here used an altmode and it showed. The ground was covered with litter and worse, while the walls often became too narrow for two altmodes to pass each other comfortably. Even though mechs fled from them, the streets were far from silent. Music, laughter, screams, or simply conversations echoed down the walls, becoming distorted and alien. Once, they passed beneath a black metal sheet that showed the Decepticon sign and the glyphs "Megatron for us all".
"We're nearly there," Jazz suddenly said only two alleys further down. "Just follow my lead and we'll be fine."
Prowl nodded. "What can I expect?"
Jazz shrugged. "We're now in Black Scabbard's territory. The biggest gang around here, controls everything in from drugs to prostitution. Their boss is Scourge, a really intelligent mech and an even better fighter. It's also said that he as a bit of a temper, one should be careful about."
A deep chuckle stopped the two Enforcers right in their tracks. "All true, all true." From a previously dark side alley, a huge black mech stepped out. Thick armour which was easily Grade Five or higher covered every inch of his body and in his servo he held a blaster. On his shoulders were the by now familiar symbols of the Decepticons. "Long time no see, Jazz."
The Enforcer smiled rather weakly. "Scourge, hey, didn't see you there."
"That was what I wanted." Scourge's burning red optics wandered to the Praxian enforcer. "My guards already told me you're bringing an unusual guest. An Enforcer Prax in Kaon, I've heard jokes that began like that." The gang boss grinned unpleasantly. "I guess the Prax has a good reason to be here."
"He has," confirmed Jazz who refused to be intimidated. To show weakness was a death sentence in this milieu. "We're searching for a Praxian serial killer called Glint."
"Interesting," said Scourge and his optics became brighter. "I have many killers among my mechs, but none have reached that title yet. Tell me, what did that mech to do be hunted across half the planet?" The gang boss didn't really sound concerned over the matter, but more like he was impressed.
Prowl twitched at the admission of having murderers among the gang, but Jazz ignored the statement with the ease of having already known. Every gang had assassins and killer and murderers here. It was just a matter of how controllable and powerful they were.
"He killed eight mechs and four younglings, all from behind and without reason but enjoyment," explained Jazz. "Glint's an uncontrollable danger to everyone, and a coward. Is that enough?"
"He's Praxian, that alone would've been enough, but a coward too?" Scourge frowned. "This is not a mech I will waste our fuel on. If this Glint is anywhere near our territory, he'll be shot down and brought to the Enforcer station as an example." A sharp grin. "My mechs love a good hunt, maybe he can provide one. I trust the Enforcers will look the other way in this case?"
Jazz had the sudden desire to punch this mech. But he couldn't, he had a job to do and that meant negotiating. "Sure, as long as ya catch him," he said instead. "Here is his pic and personal data." He gave Scourge the datapad. "That would've been all. We're then already on our way."
Scourge took the datapad without glancing at it. "You already want to leave us so soon, Jazz? Don't tell me that you're new friend has claimed all of your time."
That wasn't good. Not good at all. Jazz smiled anyway. "Well, not really, but ya know how it is, insane killer to hunt, reports to write, and never enough time."
"Of course I do." Scourge took a step towards him, and was now far nearer than Jazz wanted him to be. "But I thought you would've time to chat at least with a few old friends." He leaned forward, down to Jazz. "And family."
He could barely hide his flinch. He didn't have any family left but a single, stupid mech that he still couldn't help but love. "Ah wasn't aware that you had any family of mine in your gang, Scourge," he said coolly, trying to calm his suddenly racing spark.
"Not directly in my gang, but on visit certainly." The red optics glittered with malicious mirth. "I'm sure he would love to see you."
Before Jazz could retort, he heard a near silent "Jazz" from behind him. He stopped and looked back to his Praxian companion, just to see that now they were far from alone. In the alley behind them lounged several mechs who all observed the scene with Scourge very attentively. As they saw his look, they smirked and one or two even waved. Worse, far too many of them he knew by designation, which wouldn't help any besides knowing who would shoot them if Jazz did any wrong step.
Slag this, Jazz thought. Then he turned back to Scourge. "Ah don't think Ah can say no to such a lovely invitation."
Scourge straightened up. "You're always a welcomed guest, Jazz."
The gang boss started walking down the street, signaling that everyone should follow him. Without additional orders, the gang members began to surround the two Enforcers while chatting and laughing with each other, weapons always at hand.
Prowl, next to Jazz, seemed stressed. "What was this about your family, Jazz?" he hissed. "And where is he leading us?"
"Don't know where we're going," he answered grimly. "And family, well I only have one mech left. He wasn't a Black Scabbard last I checked, but he always liked changing allegiances."
"This isn't very reassuring," said the Praxian drily.
Jazz expected more hurtful comments, but instead Prowl remained silent and half a step behind him, clearly covering his back. It felt strange to have someone at his back, and he couldn't help but wonder if Prowl would really protect him - and found that yes, he could see this mech doing it. What irony, considering that most Kaonite Enforcers wouldn't dream of showing such loyalty to each other. It just wasn't the Kaonite way. Still, this Praxian was behind him and it calmed Jazz down as much as few things ever had done.
Scourge led them to an old house, which was corroding just as everything else in Kaon. Nothing really distinguished it from the houses left and right. Scourge entered first and Prowl and Jazz followed without much of a choice. The gang members though remained outside.
"Jazz!" exclaimed a very happy voice loudly. Before the Enforcer could react, arms were hugging him. "Jazz, mech, I would've never thought to meet you here of all places. What are you doing in gang territory, aren't you still a honest good Enforcer?"
Jazz tried to get the mech off him and look into his face. It was startingly similar to his own, it even had a red visor. Just his colours were different, dark red and grey, both healthy and vibrant. "Ricochet," Jazz greeted the mech and he couldn't stop the honest smile on his face. "Ya look good."
"Ah know," answered Ricochet without a hint of modesty. "One of us two has to keep up the amazing party reputations of our creators, ya know." An amused grin. "But then Ah do remember a few times when ya were far from boring at a party..."
"Ah have to let ya know that Ah can still be the life of any party," joked Jazz.
"Sure, sure." Ricochet smiled. "Come on, sit down first and your friend as well. He's a Prax, right? Have never seen a Prax Enforcer before."
"I'm only here for a case," said Prowl.
Ricochet led them deeper into the room. As poor as the building had seemed from the outside, the inside left no question open who it belonged to. Huge signs of black paintings of swords were on the walls and the whole room was filled with couches, cushions and blankets. The light was pretty dim and a sweet smell was in the air, the telling smell of Orinox, a very popular drug. This was probably something of a meeting or common room for the gang. But just what was Ricochet doing here? Jazz discreetly looked his frame over, but he couldn't see any gang marks - but he found without difficulty the obvious purple sign of the Decepticons. It surprised him less than it probably should have.
They settled down on some of the couches, Ricochet, Scourge on one side of the table and them on the other side. Scourge winked at a small, light red bot who scurried away to somewhere.
"A case, uh?" said Ricochet. "Let me guess, a big, bad mech...?" He grinned and Scourge laughed.
"Not so big," answered Jazz less amused. "But very bad." He leaned back into the couch as if he was comfortable in the setting. At his side, he noticed that the Praxian didn't bother to pretend that he wasn't tense, every mech with too optics could see it in his entirely stiff doorwings. Somehow that amused him. "Say Ricochet, what are ya doing here? Nothing against the Black Scabbards, really, but last Ah checked ya weren't one."
"Still aint, Jazz," admitted Ricochet. "But Scourge and Ah are now part of something bigger and better, ain't that right, Scourge?"
"Sure." At the side, the little servant from before had come back and brought a plate with several very strange looking cubes, colourful crystals and a few synriges even. Drugs. Scourge took the plate and offered it his guests: "Do you want some? Just take them, this is best quality."
Prowl looked appalled and Jazz hastily said: "No, thanks, we Enforcers still have to take the drug test every decaorn. Wouldn't want ta lose the job over something like this, ya understand?"
Scourge looked angry for a moment, but then Ricochet took a rainbow coloured cube from the plate. "Yar loss, Jazz, these are some of the best of all of Kaon." Ricochet shook his head in mock regret. "As Ah said, we're now all part of something better - the Decepticons!" He raised the cube: "For Megatron, for us!" Then he emptied the cube in one go and smiled brightly.
"For Megatron," agreed Scourge and emptied his own cube.
Prowl narrowed his opics. "So you're all Decepticons now?"
"Everyone here," agreed Ricochet. "The whole Black Scabbard gang and many others. Soon there will be no others left." He looked at Jazz. "Brother, ya should really join soon, too. The times are changing in Kaon, finally and ya don't wanna be left behind."
This was very true and the signs were everywhere. "I know," he said.
"Really?" Ricochet seemed relieved. "Ya know, Ah could get ya in real easy. Ah'm even now an official recruiter of the Decepticons, they pay me credits and not just energon. Isn't that great?" For a moment he seemed so very proud that it broke Jazz's spark. "They're really the future."
"That they are," agreed Scourge. "Megatron is changing things and making them better. Showing these upper class mechs that we exist and have a right to do more than just work."
Jazz had never taken Scourge for a mech concerned with things like justice or social equality. Maybe he had underestimated the mech. Maybe he had underestimated them all. "I've heard a few speeches of Megatron," he said reluctantly, acutely aware that they would accept nothing but agreement of their view.
Ricochet, who had just taken an orange crystal, looked up in interest. "Which one? They're all good, of course, but a few are just great."
"The best is the one where he stands in front of the city hall," mentioned Scourge. "What was it called..."
"Dare to dream," said Ricochet. "And Megatron is right. We should dare to dream of more than just the question where we get the energon for the next few orns. We should dream bigger, of a different life than this!"
This. This was Kaon. This was them. This.
It resonated deep down with Jazz and he would himself nodding. How many dreams did he bury? Did every other Kaonite bury? And it wasn't even the big dreams that hurt the most. No. What really hurt were when it should've been reachable, doable for every mech on the planet and you tried with everything you were able to give only to fail, because you were in Kaon. These small dreams like seeing your sparkling grow up, living in an apartment with two rooms instead of one, having enough energon to be able to celebrate on your centurion day... these are the things that really hurt and left scars.
Dare to dream.
When had Kaon stopped dreaming? When had hope left?
Ricochet and Scourge had been talking on, while Jazz sat there,drowning in his own thoughts and sparkdeep pain. Now, he shook his helmet to clear it and asked: "Ric, do ya have that speech?"
"That speech?" asked his brother, but then understood: "Oh, sure Ah have. Usually I demand a credit for it, but as ya're my bro, ya get it for nothing." He threw something at Jazz. "Ya'll love it, Ah promise ya. It's... as if his words are magic. They make a feel alive!"
"Thanks," Jazz smiled. "Ah owe ya one."
"Ah, don't worry. All is repaid when ya finally join." Ricochet looked at him,suddenly intense. "Ya will join, right?"
"Sure." It wasn't as if there were any other choices. Kaon was changing, the power balance was shifting and it would be beyond stupid to resist. He stood up. "Ya can come over and explain it all ta me, if ya like. But for now we still have a big, bad mech to catch."
"Sure, no need to keep ya here for longer," said Ricochet with a glance to Scourge, who nodded after a moment of hesitation. "Let ya friend watch it as well, yes? We can always use more mechs, even from other city states."
"I will gladly watch it," said Prowl without any inflection at all. Jazz was absolutely sure that his partner was lying, but thankfully the Decepticons didn't seem to notice it.
They weren't stopped when they walked outside. Dozens of optics followed their steps and in turn Jazz stared back. For the first time he noticed an additional sign on many plates. It was small, less of a declaration of allegiance than a private sign. It was a single glyph, mostly held in silver or black: Dream.
Dare to dream.
He couldn't forget the words, even when they walked away.
They walked in silence for a while, and with every step Jazz grew tenser. Far from forgotten were the accusations Prowl at thrown at him earlier, when he had told Softkey to join the Decepticons. To discover that his own brother wasn't just one, but a recruiter was worse. But without a doubt, worst was the fact that Jazz was seriously considering it.
Yet Prowl stayed silent and simply walked at Jazz's side. In the end it was Jazz who broke the silence with something unexpected: "Ya know, it's kind of my fault that Ricochet is like that."
Prowl raised an optic ridge. "How can that be your fault?"
"Easy. Ah kinda raised him." As Prowl's face grew only more disbelieving, he hurried to continue: "Really. Our creators were well-off Kaonites. They had been codewriters before the slowdown and later became really good code hackers. But they wanted Rico and me to lead an honest life and so they paid for my Enforcer career. Ah was good enough to get invited to Iacon University as one of the ten most promising Enforcers."
These ten young mechs were chosen every decavorn from all new Enforcers and formed a squad. Every member in said squad was trained in a certain area of advanced knowledge to which only few mechs ever had access to.
"Impressive." Prowl smiled. "I myself was invited to fill the slot of a tactician."
Jazz blinked and then smiled back. "Doesn't surprise ma, ya just have this certain air around ya."
"Wish I could say the same," admitted Prowl with an embarrassed doorwing flutter. "In my defence, I did learn over the last few joors that you're far more than the stupid Kaonite Enforcer that I first thought you to be."
Jazz stared. "Eh... thank you?"
"You're welcome. If I may ask, what was your specialisation?"
"Sabotage." He shrugged. "It seems that Ah got the talent of ma creators to get into places Ah shouldn't be."
Prowl gave him an unreadable glance. "Indeed. So, how does all this tie in with Ricochet?"
"Ah. Well, during the time Ah was in Iacon our creators botched a job and were killed. Ah got the message pretty fast, packed and hurried with the last of ma credits back to Kaon." Jazz's face became darker. "Ah wasn't fast enough. Ric had been all alone as a youngling in Kaon and had fallen in with a streetgang to survive. Things had happened to him and he was never again my little innocent brother. Still Ah took him in, gave him energon, but... well. My salary as an Enforcer is enough to fuel maself, but not ma and a growing youngling. More often than not he got his energon from other places and did odd jobs to stay alive." Jazz sighed, remembering these desperate orns with feelings of regret and infinite sadness. "Not surprisingly, he stopped going to school and came less and less ta ma, until he had practically moved out without ever saying so. From then on Ah only saw him by chance or when he decided to visit ma, because he was down on his luck."
The Praxian Enforcer next to him nodded. "Sometimes there are no happy endings. But I still fail to see how this was your fault?"
Jazz looked at his companion. How to explain the burning certainty that he hadn't done enough, that he did the wrong thing and said too many harsh words? How to describe the feeling that they all should've been some little happy family?
"Do ya have a cohort or family?" he asked, trying to find a similarity.
"No." And there was a tinge of regret in that word. "Praxus's Enforcers are all created by Vector Sigma to ensure that we're impartial."
This boggled Jazz's processor for a moment. Vector Sigma created mechs were expensive, especially as they were not forced to go into the job they were created for. The price for Praxus Enforcers must be astronomical. But to also imagine that there was no one who really cared about 'you' when you took your first steps was a scary thought. "Ya must have been lonely as a youngling," he commented.
"Sometimes." Prowl's wings flicked. "Do you consider joining the Decepticons because of a sense of duty for your brother?"
So he hadn't forgotten. That would've made things too easy. "No. I consider because what Ric said was right. Times are changing and the Decepticons will be the new rulers of Kaon."
"Is this the only reason?" asked Prowl, deceptively gently. For a crazy moment, Jazz wanted to tell him everything. The mech was a good interrogator, Jazz noticed. Very good.
"Yes," he lied and again heard the words ringing inside his cortex: Dare to dream.
What were his dreams anyway?
He couldn't answer this question. Instead he concentrated on the now, as always:
"We've now covered most of Kaon. The word will be out in a few joors and even the other gangs will know. But if ya want we can visit their bosses too to be sure."
Prowl shook his head. "If you say it's not necessary, then I trust your judgement. I would like to visit a few other places though, like the Energon plant. Is it possible for Glint to steal from there?"
"No." The answer was delivered with absolute certainty. He gave Prowl a long, contemplating look. "But I can show you the plant anyway. It's only a small detour."
Prowl nodded. "That would be good for my later report. Thank you."
Dare to Dream: Part 3