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ante_luceTitle: Deux
'Verse: Shattered Glass Transformers
Characters: Prowl. Ricochet. SG!Jazz. Jazz.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing
The muttering was the first thing to catch Prowl’s attention when he was brought online.
The sharp blow to his helm was the next.
“I know you’re awake, little mech. Now look at me when I’m talking!”
He unshuttered his optics, slowly lifting his head so he could lock them onto the bot, gaze calmly defiant
“That’s more like it! Next order of business, I find out who you are and what you two were doing here.” The mech practically danced in anticipation, before sweeping his restrained form with an expectant expression. “I do hope you’re inclined to be stubborn.”
“Why would an Autobot not be allowed to move freely about our own territories?” He tried, and the mech laughed, high and mocking.
“Oooh, I wouldn’t try that if I were you. Y’see, that might’ve worked for your friend, since he looks like Jazz and everything, but there’s no mech who looks like you in the Autobots. That’ll be my next question. I gotta find out how you ‘Cons managed to mimic our bots so perfectly.”
So Jazz had gotten away. That was good.
“Frag, I almost mistook your friend for Jazz, and that would’ve been embarrassing. Imagine, not being able to tell your own twin from a ‘Con. Jazz wasn’t too happy about that, but then he saw your friend and his ember went all funny.”
But the strange Autobot was still talking, which wasn’t.
“Which brings me to a query of my own. Jazz doesn’t approve of mixing the personal with official stuff, but once you tell me why you, a bot I’ve never seen before, make my ember do the same thing, it’ll all be strictly business.”
The mech adjusted his visor, then grinned at him.
“So, shall we begin?”
= = =
“ ‘Jumper, what the frag are you doing? I gotta go back for Prowl!”
“They’re going to be on high alert, looking for you! You won’t get in without being spotted, and now that their Jazz’s identified you, you’re not going to be able to fool them any longer! Dammit Jazz! You’re acting like he’s your fragging bondmate or something, calm down for a moment and think!”
“Cliffjumper. All that data I just dumped on this Megatron’s lap? I managed to get that using codes only an Autobot officer from our dimension would know.”
“… Oh… frag.”
“Right now, they think Prowl’s one of the ‘Cons we’re hiding out with, but what do you think’s gonna happen once they take a crack at his CPU?”
“He’ll fight them! He’s the slagging SIC and head tactician, he’s got to have covered this possibility!”
“All the safeguards in the world aren’t going to be much use when the mechs trying to get past them already know all the passwords. So Let. Me. Go.”
= = =
“How’s it going?”
“Feh, the mech’s not a screamer. Not much of a talker either.”
“No one expected you to get him to talk, glitch, just soften him up so that Smokescreen can wriggle into his head. You’d better hope you haven’t taken it too far, or Prime will be after yours.”
“You never let me have any fun, Jazz.”
“Because staying pain free is more important than having fun. Now get to Prime’s side, Rodimus is lurking about somewhere and you know how Prime gets when he has to personally smack that mech around for too long.”
“You’d think that jumped up helium rocket would learn by now that the Prime’s not gonna fall for his little schemes.”
“Feel free to drill that little fact into his shiny aft when he screws up this time.”
“Roddy-aft whupping duty. My second favourite perk of the job. ‘Course the first would be ridi-”
“Just go, Ricochet.”
Jazz’s twin (Jazz’s twin? Jazz had a twin? Some part of Prowl’s processor not busy shoring up his mental defences or calculating the odds and hows of escape wondered wryly about the reality of the Pit, considering how he’d seemed to have found himself in just such a place) left and the remaining visored mech approached, then reached out to grip his helm, forcing it upwards so he had to look this ‘Jazz’ in the optic.
“Curious.”
His head was released, and the mech folded his arms across his front, tilting a visored helm to one side, considering the tactician’s beaten up frame speculatively.
“Pardon my brother. He’s never been able to maintain a civil manner for very long.”
Prowl didn’t say anything in response, and the other Jazz smiled, as if he’d expected nothing less.
“You, on the other hand, seem to have more of a sense of dignity. Certainly you’ve got self-control. I’ve seen Ricochet reduce ‘Cons to incoherent begging by this time.”
“Is there a point to your monologue, or is this another means by which you hope to torture information out of me?”
Prowl couldn’t stop the dry response, a habit gained from vorns of interaction with a certain saboteur. This Jazz laughed, just like his one normally did.
“Oh, to have you as a brother instead of the glitch I’m stuck with. Your twin is a fortunate mech.”
“I have no twin.” Sheer bewilderment made him speak, and this Jazz shrugged.
“Well, I’d deny having one too if he just left me behind like yours did. No matter, I’d rid myself of mine and claim you in the beat of an ember, just say the word.”
“Jazz is not-”
“No need to lie to save his aft. Ricochet, loathe as I am to admit it, is my twin.” A black hand placed itself on his chestplates, right on his spark as the mech leant in close. “And your Jazz is yours. I can tell.”
= = =
Prowl wondered what his expression must look like. To suddenly be told that he had a brother, a twin brother to be exact, when previously he knew of no such thing. This Jazz observed his reaction with some surprise.
“You didn’t know? That might explain why your twin ditched you. Poor little mechs, so close and yet still ignorant of the truth.”
“Get away from him.” The mech looked away, then moved a step back. Prowl refused to look relieved, though his spark leapt when he recognised that voice, heard that particular melody that was missing from the mech’s ersatz double. His Jazz entered the room, a blaster pointed straight at the other one. “What the frag did you do to him?”
“I didn’t do anything to your Ricochet. Why the scientists chose to conceal you and your brother from Prime, I don’t know, but I suppose I can always find out later.”
“What slag are you spouting now? Who’s Ricochet?”
“My apologies. I assumed that since you share my designation, your twin would share my brother’s. Then again, the lack of resemblance should have tipped me off.” The visored mech shrugged. “Names aside, would that technically make his condition his own fault then?”
“How did you-”
A visor snapped up, and the other Jazz observed the stunned black and white mech before him. Then, a slow, wicked grin made its way across his faceplates.
“Interesting. You knew, but he didn’t.” He turned to the tactician hanging from his chains with a laugh. “It seems like someone’s been keeping secrets. I rescind my offer to have you as a brother. If your own twin didn’t want to acknowledge you, then you must be terribly defective in some manner.”
Jazz swung at the other visored mech, expression furious. The other Jazz avoided the attack, twisting aside with ease.
“Oh, now you defend him? Let me guess, you don’t want him, but no one else gets to have him either? You truly are my copy. Perhaps you were the one split from my ember, my true twin, and it is the division of our already diminished cores that generates glitches like our brothers.”
“Tell me, does Ricochet know you hold him in such low regard?” The saboteur hissed, and the other Jazz smirked.
“My brother’s processors are sadly, too subpar for him to realise my opinion of him.”
//No matter, I’d rid myself of my twin and claim you in the beat of an ember, just say the word.//
The other Jazz frowned when the recorded words played from Prowl, then turned when Jazz laughed mirthlessly.
“Well, subpar processors or not, I’m pretty sure he knows now.”
Ricochet stood in the doorway, visor ablaze with anger. He lunged for his twin, and in the chaos, Jazz got Prowl free and both slipped away.
= = =
“Prowl…”
“Yes Jazz.”
The Ops mech winced at the tactician’s even tone.
“About what that slagger said…”
“It can wait for when we are no longer in his territory. I have no wish to be caught by him again.”
Perfectly even and inflectionless. Prowl was truly fragged with him to be putting so much effort into not appearing so. Jazz sighed. “Right. Of course.”
= = =
“So, it looks like they’ve managed to drive a wedge between Prime’s bodyguards.”
Starscream looked up from the report he held to nod at his commander. “According to their report on the situation, Lord Megatron, yes. How this new development will affect anything, only time will tell. The information Jazz managed to extract from the Autobot databases will allow for more profitable raids, alleviating our supply problem for the immediate future.”
“Good, good. What of the mechs themselves? I understand that Prowl was subject to the attentions of Ricochet before they escaped.”
“His repairs are complete, sir.”
“But something else is wrong.” Megatron clasped his hands before him and the jet sighed, subspacing his datapad.
“He’s quiet. And so is the Jazz from Cliffjumper’s world. While the first situation is not unusual, according to our minibot friend, the second one is.”
The Decepticon leader was silent for a moment.
“Is there anything we can do?”
Starscream shrugged.
“I have a feeling it is something they have to sort out between themselves.”
= = =
Jazz watched the black and white mech standing on the other side of the room, assiduously ignoring him. He moved closer, and Prowl kept his gaze focused first on his datapad, then in any direction that did not include the saboteur.
“Prowl?”
The tactician did not give any indication that he’d heard Jazz.
“Prowl. I’m sorry I kept this from you. Please, give me a chance to explain.”
Cold blue optics met his visor and he flinched at the tactician’s blank expression, but took the mech’s silence as his cue to start talking.
“I found out only when I cracked Jhiaxus’s files, after Elita-1 set me to looking through them to figure out what the fragger with a god complex did to Arcee. Turned out he had a few side projects going on, the creation of twins being one of them, and we were a pair of his subjects, up until we broke out of his labs. As for why I didn’t tell you, I…”
Jazz glanced away. He could feel the doorwinged mech’s gaze on him intensify, and the saboteur suddenly found his hands very interesting. Prowl’s voice was quiet, and still completely blank.
“What reason would there be for not telling me, unless what that other Jazz said was true and you are ashamed of me?”
“Never!” Jazz’s head shot up and he saw that Prowl had hunched slightly, as if bracing for an attack by the visored mech. He took the mech’s shoulders, turning Prowl so that the tactician faced him once more. “You’re smart, brilliant and capable. Frag, you’re the slagging SIC. I’m just an Ops mech. It’s okay for you to be friendly with a bot like me, but brothers? Twins even?”
“… My first memories are of a black and white youngling waking me, taking my hand and telling me to run.” Prowl kept his gaze averted as he continued. “I have trusted you, both professionally and personally, ever since that moment. Putting off the question of whether or not that was due to our origins as one spark for the time being, in all manners I consider important, you were practically my brother already.”
“I’m sorry, Prowl. I am so, so sorry for keeping the truth from you.” The Ops mech pulled the doorwinged bot close, wanting nothing more than to remedy the pained quality the tactician could not remove from his words. Softly, hesitantly, Jazz asked. “Y’still want a mech like me as a twin, Prowl?”
There was a long pause, and the visored mech felt his spark flutter anxiously until Prowl sighed and wrapped his arms about the saboteur’s frame with the awkwardness of an individual unused to such physical gestures. Jazz shuttered his optics, then pressed his forehead against the tactician’s helm.
= = =
“So, how’re you two going back?”
“Same way you and we got here. Through that rift generator.”
“Oy… That’s pretty deep in Autobot terrain.”
“Yeah, but I’m the best. And Prowl’s not too shabby himself. You coming with us?”
“… I think I’ll stay here. I get the scraplets thinking about what might happen if the Autobots here decide to use that thing. Most of the bots back home wouldn’t realise something was wrong until too late.”
“So, you’re our early warning system, huh.”
“Can you imagine Megatron popping up in our base going ‘Hi, I’m actually a good version of the Decepticreep you’re familiar with.’?”
“I suppose blowing it up would draw too much attention. They’ve ignored it so far, but if we try and get rid of it, they’ll start wondering why.”
“Yeah. So I gotta stay. If you see me again, it probably won’t be for a friendly visit.”
“Well, good luck, Cliffjumper.”
“Thanks Jazz.”
= = =
Making their way unnoticed into the Autobot stronghold wasn’t as difficult as they’d feared. It wasn’t an easy task, by any measure, but there were advantages to knowing the layout of the base as only two officers could.
The two mechs snuck into the chamber where the portal resided, and as Jazz swept the deserted area for any potential threats, Prowl worked on the structure, trying to start it up.
“Prowl!”
He dove aside at Jazz’s shout, the heat of weapons fire passing a scant laser’s breadth from his doors, then came to his pedes, rifle in his hands immediately. Ricochet snarled at him, visor bright in the manner Prowl had come to associate with intense wrath on Jazz’s part.
“You can’t have him. He’s my brother! Not yours!”
The crazed mech lashed out at the tactician again, this time slamming him against the portal as he tried to strangle the chevroned bot. Prowl drove a fist into the mech’s face and then Jazz was by his side, yanking the other visored mech away, putting himself between Prowl and the bodyguard, blaster drawn and pointed at Ricochet as well.
“Hah. Jazz. Always so superior. So confident in your place as Prime’s favourite, aren’t you?” Ricochet laughed, the sound dark and thoroughly cracked. “Well, you can’t be his favourite if you aren’t here! Keep your new twin!”
And then he leapt at the two black and white mechs, shoving them into the bright light of the opening rift. The portal flared, then went dark, and Ricochet was alone in the room.
“Jazz?” He turned, scanning his surroundings, then scrabbled at the rift generator wildly. “Jazz? Jazz, where are you?”
“Dammit, they didn’t kill you.”
“Jazz!”
Ricochet’s twin stalked up to him, grabbed his arm and dragged him from the room. “I’m here, glitch. Now quit your malfunction and let’s get topside. Prime’s got a session to hold and we need to be there.”
= = =
When the light faded, they were alone with the portal device once more. Staring at the machine warily, they waited, and when nothing followed them through, Jazz cycled air in relief and Prowl’s doorwings settled into a more relaxed position. They stood in silence for a moment, then the tactician murmured.
“Since you were the one to read the files, do you know why am I not like Ricochet?”
The saboteur shrugged. “Best as I can figure? Jhiaxus, Pit cursed slagger though he may be, was still a genius beyond what the Autobots in that place could scrape together. He did a better job of splitting us.”
Jazz sighed, glancing at the lifeless generator. “I feel a little sorry for Ricochet though. Despised by half of your own spark. Frag.”
Shaking his head, the visored mech pointed at the large machine. “So, should we destroy this? Make sure no one can get through?”
“We don’t know how many of these things exist, should this portal be terminated, anyone passing through from the other side might not succeed, or they might be shunted to another exit in our world.”
“Guess a known entry point is better than an unknown one. I’ll set up a couple of sensors and cameras here. They should let us know if anyone comes through.”
The tactician nodded, and as they moved to exit the room, Jazz quietly said his name. Prowl looked back at him, and the saboteur smiled faintly.
“I’m glad you’re my brother.”
Prowl smiled back.
“Likewise.”
= = = EndFic = = =
'Verse: Shattered Glass Transformers
Characters: Prowl. Ricochet. SG!Jazz. Jazz.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing
The muttering was the first thing to catch Prowl’s attention when he was brought online.
The sharp blow to his helm was the next.
“I know you’re awake, little mech. Now look at me when I’m talking!”
He unshuttered his optics, slowly lifting his head so he could lock them onto the bot, gaze calmly defiant
“That’s more like it! Next order of business, I find out who you are and what you two were doing here.” The mech practically danced in anticipation, before sweeping his restrained form with an expectant expression. “I do hope you’re inclined to be stubborn.”
“Why would an Autobot not be allowed to move freely about our own territories?” He tried, and the mech laughed, high and mocking.
“Oooh, I wouldn’t try that if I were you. Y’see, that might’ve worked for your friend, since he looks like Jazz and everything, but there’s no mech who looks like you in the Autobots. That’ll be my next question. I gotta find out how you ‘Cons managed to mimic our bots so perfectly.”
So Jazz had gotten away. That was good.
“Frag, I almost mistook your friend for Jazz, and that would’ve been embarrassing. Imagine, not being able to tell your own twin from a ‘Con. Jazz wasn’t too happy about that, but then he saw your friend and his ember went all funny.”
But the strange Autobot was still talking, which wasn’t.
“Which brings me to a query of my own. Jazz doesn’t approve of mixing the personal with official stuff, but once you tell me why you, a bot I’ve never seen before, make my ember do the same thing, it’ll all be strictly business.”
The mech adjusted his visor, then grinned at him.
“So, shall we begin?”
= = =
“ ‘Jumper, what the frag are you doing? I gotta go back for Prowl!”
“They’re going to be on high alert, looking for you! You won’t get in without being spotted, and now that their Jazz’s identified you, you’re not going to be able to fool them any longer! Dammit Jazz! You’re acting like he’s your fragging bondmate or something, calm down for a moment and think!”
“Cliffjumper. All that data I just dumped on this Megatron’s lap? I managed to get that using codes only an Autobot officer from our dimension would know.”
“… Oh… frag.”
“Right now, they think Prowl’s one of the ‘Cons we’re hiding out with, but what do you think’s gonna happen once they take a crack at his CPU?”
“He’ll fight them! He’s the slagging SIC and head tactician, he’s got to have covered this possibility!”
“All the safeguards in the world aren’t going to be much use when the mechs trying to get past them already know all the passwords. So Let. Me. Go.”
= = =
“How’s it going?”
“Feh, the mech’s not a screamer. Not much of a talker either.”
“No one expected you to get him to talk, glitch, just soften him up so that Smokescreen can wriggle into his head. You’d better hope you haven’t taken it too far, or Prime will be after yours.”
“You never let me have any fun, Jazz.”
“Because staying pain free is more important than having fun. Now get to Prime’s side, Rodimus is lurking about somewhere and you know how Prime gets when he has to personally smack that mech around for too long.”
“You’d think that jumped up helium rocket would learn by now that the Prime’s not gonna fall for his little schemes.”
“Feel free to drill that little fact into his shiny aft when he screws up this time.”
“Roddy-aft whupping duty. My second favourite perk of the job. ‘Course the first would be ridi-”
“Just go, Ricochet.”
Jazz’s twin (Jazz’s twin? Jazz had a twin? Some part of Prowl’s processor not busy shoring up his mental defences or calculating the odds and hows of escape wondered wryly about the reality of the Pit, considering how he’d seemed to have found himself in just such a place) left and the remaining visored mech approached, then reached out to grip his helm, forcing it upwards so he had to look this ‘Jazz’ in the optic.
“Curious.”
His head was released, and the mech folded his arms across his front, tilting a visored helm to one side, considering the tactician’s beaten up frame speculatively.
“Pardon my brother. He’s never been able to maintain a civil manner for very long.”
Prowl didn’t say anything in response, and the other Jazz smiled, as if he’d expected nothing less.
“You, on the other hand, seem to have more of a sense of dignity. Certainly you’ve got self-control. I’ve seen Ricochet reduce ‘Cons to incoherent begging by this time.”
“Is there a point to your monologue, or is this another means by which you hope to torture information out of me?”
Prowl couldn’t stop the dry response, a habit gained from vorns of interaction with a certain saboteur. This Jazz laughed, just like his one normally did.
“Oh, to have you as a brother instead of the glitch I’m stuck with. Your twin is a fortunate mech.”
“I have no twin.” Sheer bewilderment made him speak, and this Jazz shrugged.
“Well, I’d deny having one too if he just left me behind like yours did. No matter, I’d rid myself of mine and claim you in the beat of an ember, just say the word.”
“Jazz is not-”
“No need to lie to save his aft. Ricochet, loathe as I am to admit it, is my twin.” A black hand placed itself on his chestplates, right on his spark as the mech leant in close. “And your Jazz is yours. I can tell.”
= = =
Prowl wondered what his expression must look like. To suddenly be told that he had a brother, a twin brother to be exact, when previously he knew of no such thing. This Jazz observed his reaction with some surprise.
“You didn’t know? That might explain why your twin ditched you. Poor little mechs, so close and yet still ignorant of the truth.”
“Get away from him.” The mech looked away, then moved a step back. Prowl refused to look relieved, though his spark leapt when he recognised that voice, heard that particular melody that was missing from the mech’s ersatz double. His Jazz entered the room, a blaster pointed straight at the other one. “What the frag did you do to him?”
“I didn’t do anything to your Ricochet. Why the scientists chose to conceal you and your brother from Prime, I don’t know, but I suppose I can always find out later.”
“What slag are you spouting now? Who’s Ricochet?”
“My apologies. I assumed that since you share my designation, your twin would share my brother’s. Then again, the lack of resemblance should have tipped me off.” The visored mech shrugged. “Names aside, would that technically make his condition his own fault then?”
“How did you-”
A visor snapped up, and the other Jazz observed the stunned black and white mech before him. Then, a slow, wicked grin made its way across his faceplates.
“Interesting. You knew, but he didn’t.” He turned to the tactician hanging from his chains with a laugh. “It seems like someone’s been keeping secrets. I rescind my offer to have you as a brother. If your own twin didn’t want to acknowledge you, then you must be terribly defective in some manner.”
Jazz swung at the other visored mech, expression furious. The other Jazz avoided the attack, twisting aside with ease.
“Oh, now you defend him? Let me guess, you don’t want him, but no one else gets to have him either? You truly are my copy. Perhaps you were the one split from my ember, my true twin, and it is the division of our already diminished cores that generates glitches like our brothers.”
“Tell me, does Ricochet know you hold him in such low regard?” The saboteur hissed, and the other Jazz smirked.
“My brother’s processors are sadly, too subpar for him to realise my opinion of him.”
//No matter, I’d rid myself of my twin and claim you in the beat of an ember, just say the word.//
The other Jazz frowned when the recorded words played from Prowl, then turned when Jazz laughed mirthlessly.
“Well, subpar processors or not, I’m pretty sure he knows now.”
Ricochet stood in the doorway, visor ablaze with anger. He lunged for his twin, and in the chaos, Jazz got Prowl free and both slipped away.
= = =
“Prowl…”
“Yes Jazz.”
The Ops mech winced at the tactician’s even tone.
“About what that slagger said…”
“It can wait for when we are no longer in his territory. I have no wish to be caught by him again.”
Perfectly even and inflectionless. Prowl was truly fragged with him to be putting so much effort into not appearing so. Jazz sighed. “Right. Of course.”
= = =
“So, it looks like they’ve managed to drive a wedge between Prime’s bodyguards.”
Starscream looked up from the report he held to nod at his commander. “According to their report on the situation, Lord Megatron, yes. How this new development will affect anything, only time will tell. The information Jazz managed to extract from the Autobot databases will allow for more profitable raids, alleviating our supply problem for the immediate future.”
“Good, good. What of the mechs themselves? I understand that Prowl was subject to the attentions of Ricochet before they escaped.”
“His repairs are complete, sir.”
“But something else is wrong.” Megatron clasped his hands before him and the jet sighed, subspacing his datapad.
“He’s quiet. And so is the Jazz from Cliffjumper’s world. While the first situation is not unusual, according to our minibot friend, the second one is.”
The Decepticon leader was silent for a moment.
“Is there anything we can do?”
Starscream shrugged.
“I have a feeling it is something they have to sort out between themselves.”
= = =
Jazz watched the black and white mech standing on the other side of the room, assiduously ignoring him. He moved closer, and Prowl kept his gaze focused first on his datapad, then in any direction that did not include the saboteur.
“Prowl?”
The tactician did not give any indication that he’d heard Jazz.
“Prowl. I’m sorry I kept this from you. Please, give me a chance to explain.”
Cold blue optics met his visor and he flinched at the tactician’s blank expression, but took the mech’s silence as his cue to start talking.
“I found out only when I cracked Jhiaxus’s files, after Elita-1 set me to looking through them to figure out what the fragger with a god complex did to Arcee. Turned out he had a few side projects going on, the creation of twins being one of them, and we were a pair of his subjects, up until we broke out of his labs. As for why I didn’t tell you, I…”
Jazz glanced away. He could feel the doorwinged mech’s gaze on him intensify, and the saboteur suddenly found his hands very interesting. Prowl’s voice was quiet, and still completely blank.
“What reason would there be for not telling me, unless what that other Jazz said was true and you are ashamed of me?”
“Never!” Jazz’s head shot up and he saw that Prowl had hunched slightly, as if bracing for an attack by the visored mech. He took the mech’s shoulders, turning Prowl so that the tactician faced him once more. “You’re smart, brilliant and capable. Frag, you’re the slagging SIC. I’m just an Ops mech. It’s okay for you to be friendly with a bot like me, but brothers? Twins even?”
“… My first memories are of a black and white youngling waking me, taking my hand and telling me to run.” Prowl kept his gaze averted as he continued. “I have trusted you, both professionally and personally, ever since that moment. Putting off the question of whether or not that was due to our origins as one spark for the time being, in all manners I consider important, you were practically my brother already.”
“I’m sorry, Prowl. I am so, so sorry for keeping the truth from you.” The Ops mech pulled the doorwinged bot close, wanting nothing more than to remedy the pained quality the tactician could not remove from his words. Softly, hesitantly, Jazz asked. “Y’still want a mech like me as a twin, Prowl?”
There was a long pause, and the visored mech felt his spark flutter anxiously until Prowl sighed and wrapped his arms about the saboteur’s frame with the awkwardness of an individual unused to such physical gestures. Jazz shuttered his optics, then pressed his forehead against the tactician’s helm.
= = =
“So, how’re you two going back?”
“Same way you and we got here. Through that rift generator.”
“Oy… That’s pretty deep in Autobot terrain.”
“Yeah, but I’m the best. And Prowl’s not too shabby himself. You coming with us?”
“… I think I’ll stay here. I get the scraplets thinking about what might happen if the Autobots here decide to use that thing. Most of the bots back home wouldn’t realise something was wrong until too late.”
“So, you’re our early warning system, huh.”
“Can you imagine Megatron popping up in our base going ‘Hi, I’m actually a good version of the Decepticreep you’re familiar with.’?”
“I suppose blowing it up would draw too much attention. They’ve ignored it so far, but if we try and get rid of it, they’ll start wondering why.”
“Yeah. So I gotta stay. If you see me again, it probably won’t be for a friendly visit.”
“Well, good luck, Cliffjumper.”
“Thanks Jazz.”
= = =
Making their way unnoticed into the Autobot stronghold wasn’t as difficult as they’d feared. It wasn’t an easy task, by any measure, but there were advantages to knowing the layout of the base as only two officers could.
The two mechs snuck into the chamber where the portal resided, and as Jazz swept the deserted area for any potential threats, Prowl worked on the structure, trying to start it up.
“Prowl!”
He dove aside at Jazz’s shout, the heat of weapons fire passing a scant laser’s breadth from his doors, then came to his pedes, rifle in his hands immediately. Ricochet snarled at him, visor bright in the manner Prowl had come to associate with intense wrath on Jazz’s part.
“You can’t have him. He’s my brother! Not yours!”
The crazed mech lashed out at the tactician again, this time slamming him against the portal as he tried to strangle the chevroned bot. Prowl drove a fist into the mech’s face and then Jazz was by his side, yanking the other visored mech away, putting himself between Prowl and the bodyguard, blaster drawn and pointed at Ricochet as well.
“Hah. Jazz. Always so superior. So confident in your place as Prime’s favourite, aren’t you?” Ricochet laughed, the sound dark and thoroughly cracked. “Well, you can’t be his favourite if you aren’t here! Keep your new twin!”
And then he leapt at the two black and white mechs, shoving them into the bright light of the opening rift. The portal flared, then went dark, and Ricochet was alone in the room.
“Jazz?” He turned, scanning his surroundings, then scrabbled at the rift generator wildly. “Jazz? Jazz, where are you?”
“Dammit, they didn’t kill you.”
“Jazz!”
Ricochet’s twin stalked up to him, grabbed his arm and dragged him from the room. “I’m here, glitch. Now quit your malfunction and let’s get topside. Prime’s got a session to hold and we need to be there.”
= = =
When the light faded, they were alone with the portal device once more. Staring at the machine warily, they waited, and when nothing followed them through, Jazz cycled air in relief and Prowl’s doorwings settled into a more relaxed position. They stood in silence for a moment, then the tactician murmured.
“Since you were the one to read the files, do you know why am I not like Ricochet?”
The saboteur shrugged. “Best as I can figure? Jhiaxus, Pit cursed slagger though he may be, was still a genius beyond what the Autobots in that place could scrape together. He did a better job of splitting us.”
Jazz sighed, glancing at the lifeless generator. “I feel a little sorry for Ricochet though. Despised by half of your own spark. Frag.”
Shaking his head, the visored mech pointed at the large machine. “So, should we destroy this? Make sure no one can get through?”
“We don’t know how many of these things exist, should this portal be terminated, anyone passing through from the other side might not succeed, or they might be shunted to another exit in our world.”
“Guess a known entry point is better than an unknown one. I’ll set up a couple of sensors and cameras here. They should let us know if anyone comes through.”
The tactician nodded, and as they moved to exit the room, Jazz quietly said his name. Prowl looked back at him, and the saboteur smiled faintly.
“I’m glad you’re my brother.”
Prowl smiled back.
“Likewise.”
= = = EndFic = = =
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(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-13 04:08 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-13 06:21 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-13 04:09 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-14 12:56 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-13 06:22 am (UTC)Same here. :) Characterization so thorough despite so few words...you make me jealous! :P
(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-13 12:16 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-13 07:28 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-13 12:20 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-13 09:28 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-13 12:21 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-03-06 09:47 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-03-08 01:03 pm (UTC)