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wyntir_knight) wrote2014-04-28 05:18 pm
wyntir_knight) wrote2014-04-28 05:18 pm
Polyhex Candidate - Chapter 13
Wow! It's only been nine months since the last update! I finally got something done on this, kind of. This hasn't been betaed, but I was tired of just staring at it and trying get more out of it. I'm hoping that posting this will help to get the creative juices flowing and get more of this story written.
Title: The Polyhex Candidate
Fandom: Transformers: Generation One
Characters & Relationships: Smokescreen, Mirage, Jazz, Prowl, Ratchet, Bumblebee, Optimus Prime, Ultra Magnus, Red Alert, Ironhide, Perceptor, Wheeljack.
Jazz/Prowl, Wheeljack/Ratchet/Perceptor, mentions of Smokescreen/Swindle, Jazz/Mirage, Jazz/Smokescreen.
Rating: R
Warnings: graphic violence, dub-con, attempted rape, implication of bondage, mentions of rape, mentions of torture, reprogramming, tactile, spark-sex, plug-and-play
Summary: A year ago Jazz was captured by the Decepticons and reprogrammed into a walking time-bomb. Now that he has returned to the Autobots his new programming has kicked in and he has left chaos in his wake. It's up to Smokescreen and Mirage to find Jazz and bring him back to their side and back to sanity before he is completely lost. Meanwhile Prowl and Ultra Magnus try to keep Iacon from destroying itself as panic grips the populace, and as Prowl fights for his sanity after a year's separation from his bonded and the sure knowledge that Jazz may not survive.
Chapter 12
Chapter 13 over on AO3
Chapter 13
It was time. The crowds had gathered and the new Supreme Commander of the Autobots was going to address the masses. One last step and the plot would be complete.
Jazz mentally ticked off his victims.
Bumblebee: Deactivated – throat ripped out in the med bay
Optimus Prime: Deactivated – head blown apart with a well-placed shot.
Mirage: Deactivated – victim of an explosion
Prowl: Deactivated – …
Jazz stumbled for a moment as he thought of Prowl.
“I deactivated him,” Jazz whispered. “I fired on him and I killed him. … I think I did? Didn’t I?”
"Stop overthinking this. You have a mission. Just get to it,” a soft voice whispered in the back of his mind. “Let it go and move on. You are the head of Special Operations for reason. You were chosen for a reason. You can and will complete this mission just like you always do. You will take out your enemies just as you have been trained to.”
The voice was uncomfortably familiar but he couldn’t place it and yet there was something wrong with it. A chirping sound that skittered along the edge of his memory. Every time he almost found the origin, almost found what was wrong, it was ripped away from his reach and he was alone in his head again. But the advice was sound. Logical, even. He couldn’t waste his time worrying about past jobs; not when he was so close to his final assassination.
As predicted, Ultra Magnus had been forced to address the crowd, had been forced to come out of hiding and calm the fears of the panicking masses. Jazz settled into his sniper’s nest, patiently waiting for the scene to begin. Magnus would have to come out of his hidey hole soon. The crowd was growing restless.
Jazz didn’t have to wait long.
---
Ultra Magnus leaned against the frame of the door leading out to the large balcony, arms crossed over his broad chest as he listened to the other senior staff members with half an audio. Their discussion was bordering on argument and it was clear that they were circling back to the beginning of the issue.
"Yes, we need to encourage calm among the population, but we can't rely on their good judgement," Red Alert said sharply, and Ironhide's hand came down gently on the other mech's arm.
Red Alert vented and made a visible attempt to calm himself before launching back into his argument only to be interrupted by Ironhide.
“Look, you know that Ah’m the last person to jump on th’ idea o’ locking down the citizen and the city. Optimus wouldn’t like that one bit,” Ironhide said with more than a little mournfulness in his words and demeanour. “But th’ fact o’ the matter is that we’re lookin’ at riots out there. Folk’s’re scared an’ they need t’ know that we’re lookin’ out for them.”
“I don’t disagree with that assessment,” Prowl replied slowly, “but we are looking at only a forty-nine per cent chance of success in this endeavour. It is far more likely that the public will view martial law as a confirmation of their fears and they will fight us on it. Riots will increase rather than decrease and we will be forced to bring in troops from the Front to maintain order. We are spread thin enough as is and we cannot afford the time or the mechpower.”
"So, what? We do nothing?" Red Alert demanded. "We just allow the riots to continue? We mollify them with words instead of actions? That will not work and all of your numbers will not change that fact!"
"I am not suggestion that, Red Alert!" Prowl snapped. He quickly regained his composure and his hand came up to rub his chest over his spark chamber. "What I am suggesting is not a lack of action, it is simply a compromise. Yes, we need to do something to enforce the law and calm, but we cannot simply accomplish this with force of arms. I prefer Ironhide's suggestion of rolling curfews. It would have the greatest chance of accomplishing our aims."
"That weren't my idea," Ironhide said simply, shaking his head. "That was Red who suggested it. Look, we can solve all this real easy. What do you think of all this, Magnus?"
Ultra Magnus had only been listening with half an audio. Instead most of his attention was on the world outside this room. He was sure that if he stretched out his senses, he could both hear and feel the anger of the public. Their barely contained rage almost washed over him and the burden of it was nearly unbearable. Logically, he knew he was imagining it all, but a part of him had to wonder if this wasn't the influence of the Matrix and if this is what everything felt like to Optimus. The thought of going out there to face the public with no shielding between them and their raw emotions ... Give him a war and he would fight it, but this political battle was something far out of his comfort zone.
"Ultra Magnus?" Prowl prompted gently. "Your thoughts? You are, after all, the final authority on this."
Magnus looked up at Prowl and cycled his optics in a blink as he tried to focus his attention back to the matter at hand. He quickly replayed the conversation, separating and weighing out the options as they were presented.
“I don’t relish the idea of going out there and telling the people that they will be confined to their homes. We’re fighting for freedom and there’s something very wrong with accomplishing that by taking freedom away,” Ultra Magnus said carefully. “But by the same token, if we do have Decepticons agents and sympathisers out there we can’t allow them to threaten the public any more than they already have.”
“So, what then?” Ironhide asked. “Partial curfews? Rolling shut downs?”
Magnus shook his head. “Not shut downs. That’s far too extreme a response and I don’t want to force that on anyone. No. We need to go out there, explain the situation to the public, and then ask them to calmly return to their homes.”
“And when they don’t agree?” Red Alert asked, darkly.
“If that happens then we’ll deal with it then. I’d rather not do out there looking for a fight. This is going to be hard enough as it is,” Magnus said sombrely.
With that he turned toward the door only to be stopped by Prowl’s hand on his back.
“We still have not dealt with security yet,” Prowl prompted. “We have every reason to suspect that there are Decepticons infiltrating the city and instigating the violence out there. Add to that, Jazz-” Prowl stalled slightly and his hand spasmed slightly as it rested on his chest. “Add to that, Jazz is still out there and he is likely not done with us yet.”
“We have increased security out there,” Ironhide replied. “We have to trust that they can keep Magnus safe when he goes out there. The only other option is that we stay in here and make the speech by video.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad to me,” Red Alert said firmly. “No offence to your security patrols, Ironhide, but they didn’t do much against Jazz when he broke out of here. We have no reason to believe that they’ll do any better when he has more room to work in.”
Ironhide glared at Red Alert and was about to defend his team when Ultra Magnus raised his hand.
“There’s also the possibility that Jazz is out there planning on assassinating me with a sniper rifle. Or maybe he’s in the base already, or maybe Smokescreen and Mirage have succeeded in capturing Jazz and are simply waiting for the riots to die down before coming back here. It’s all a lot of maybes and no real facts,” Magnus sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Prowl, what are the numbers here? What are the odds if I go out there?”
Prowl’s optics dimmed slightly as he ran the numbers through his battle computer, confirming what he already knew.
“There is a greater than seventy-five percent chance that Jazz is out there waiting to assassinate you from a distance,” he finally said softly. “He will choose a location that grants him a line of sight, but that also avails him with the best opportunities to pull out and escape after the job is done.”
“That narrows it down to all the old apartments out there,” Red Alert said angrily. “And at this point we don’t have time to secure those buildings or close them down properly!”
“And we won’t be,” Magnus replied, surprisingly calm. “First off, that isn’t my decision to make, it’s Prime’s. And secondly, even if it was my decision, I wouldn’t make it. There’s no point in fighting if we just end up taking away the homes of our troops.”
Red Alert looked about to argue the point, but he stood down at Ultra Magnus’s firm look.
“Now,” Magnus continued, “there’s far too great a chance against my person if I go out there, but if I don’t I imagine that the chances are any better if I stay in here. The public will take that very badly and the riots will increase until we can’t control them at all. But what if I were to out there with protection? What are the numbers then?”
Prowl’s optics narrowed slightly as he wrapped his processor around the question and the implications. “What kind of protection were you considering?”
“There’s a young tactician on site who can create nearly impenetrable forcefields and another who creates holograms,” Ultra Magnus explained. “Between the two of them we might be able to turn this to our advantage. In fact, between the four of us, we may even be able to come up with a way to bring Jazz in before he causes any more collateral damage. Unless you’ve heard something from Smokescreen and Mirage?”
“I have not,” Prowl replied. “I also have no reason to believe that they have failed in their mission. After all, they have not had much time to fulfil their objectives. Especially when one considers that Jazz does not wish to be captured.”
The 2IC’s optics flicked slightly before he continued. “I do not believe that attempting to apprehend Jazz by force is our best course of action. He will fight back if he is cornered and he will take out anyone who gets in the way, be they security forces or the public gathering out there. If you push him too far, he will not distinguish between innocent bystander and genuine threat.”
Ultra Magnus was silent for a moment before nodding. “Fine. Then we do what we can to defend me out there and see where it takes us. Ironhide, please get Trailbreaker up here and brief him. As soon as we’re sure he can put up a large enough field, I’ll go address the public.”
Ironhide paused for a moment then nodded, turning on his heel and heading out of the room to page Trailbreaker.
“Excuse me,” Red Alert said tightly. “I want to make sure that all of my cameras are functioning out there. Jazz is dangerous and the last thing we want is to be caught with a blind spot.”
Without waiting for confirmation Red Alert strode from the room, his helm lights flickering in obvious irritation and concern.
Prowl sighed softly. “He may not like this plan, but it is a good one. The best option we have given the circumstances.”
Magnus nodded. “I just wish I was more sure of all this. I’ll feel better once it’s all over.”
---
Smokescreen slipped through the crowd of mechs carefully, being sure to stay near the edges of the square. From this angle he could see most of the area and get a feel for the mechs within it, and his doors were practically shivering with feedback he was collecting from the crowd. Everyone was agitated but contained, though that could change in an instant – all it would take was a single spark to ignite the entire area into a conflagration.
“Up and to your left,” a voice whispered in his audio as a delicate hand brushed over his door-wing with a light touch.
Smokescreen fought the urge to arch into the touch. He knew that Mirage was only trying to get his attention and had no idea what effect he was having, but at the same time, Smokescreen could still feel the phantom presence of the spy’s body and field against him. The Praxian had always been sybaritic being and the events of the day had his senses high and his nerves on edge. When that was added to the sensations he was picking up from the crowd … had he anywhere else under any other circumstance, he would already have a willing partner pinned against an alley wall.
“Left!” Mirage hissed when he didn’t get an immediate reaction from the psychologist, and his fingers snapped sharply against one over sensitized door. “Quadrant seven eight nine two.”
“Yeah. Fine,” Smokescreen snapped, using every ounce of control to avoid punching the spy in his face, assuming that he could find it. It was only with a supreme effort that Smokescreen managed to control himself and drag his attention up and to the area that Mirage was indicating.
At first there was nothing, and then a slight, almost instantaneous flash caught Smokescreen’s attention.
“You’re losing your touch, Jazz,” he murmured to himself as he changed his path through the crowd, aiming for the building Jazz was using as his sniper’s nest.
Suddenly the crowd surged forward as the doors to the main dais opened, revealing three large and shadowy figures inside.
“Frag,” Smokescreen heard Mirage whisper. “We’re officially out of time.”
Mirage shoved Smokescreen back into motion. Ignoring the need for discretion, Smokescreen broke into a run, stopping only when he reached the door of the abandoned apartment building. The door was sealed and he was about to hack into it when it suddenly flew open.
Mirage appeared just inside the doorway as he dropped his disruption field and glared at Smokescreen.
“We don’t have time for subtlety!” he snapped before running up a nearby set of stair, heading in the direction of the room they suspected Jazz was occupying.
As Smokescreen was about to follow Mirage when the figures on the dais came into full view and the Praxian nearly stalled out. There, standing in front of Ultra Magnus and Prowl was Optimus Prime, alive and apparently completely fine despite having lost his head only two cycles before.
A near-silent oath escaped Smokescreen’s vocalizer only to turn into a squawk of outrage as a slim hand grabbed his doorwing roughly.
“Jazz is our only concern!” Mirage snapped as he yanked the Praxian through the door and shoved him up the stairs.
Outside they heard Optimus Prime begin to address the crowd. If Jazz was still in any way Jazz, he would still have enough flair to choose the perfect moment to attack and finish his assassinations. Mirage and Smokescreen knew that they only had moments before it would be too late.
Together they moved as quickly as they could while still remaining quiet.
Title: The Polyhex Candidate
Fandom: Transformers: Generation One
Characters & Relationships: Smokescreen, Mirage, Jazz, Prowl, Ratchet, Bumblebee, Optimus Prime, Ultra Magnus, Red Alert, Ironhide, Perceptor, Wheeljack.
Jazz/Prowl, Wheeljack/Ratchet/Perceptor, mentions of Smokescreen/Swindle, Jazz/Mirage, Jazz/Smokescreen.
Rating: R
Warnings: graphic violence, dub-con, attempted rape, implication of bondage, mentions of rape, mentions of torture, reprogramming, tactile, spark-sex, plug-and-play
Summary: A year ago Jazz was captured by the Decepticons and reprogrammed into a walking time-bomb. Now that he has returned to the Autobots his new programming has kicked in and he has left chaos in his wake. It's up to Smokescreen and Mirage to find Jazz and bring him back to their side and back to sanity before he is completely lost. Meanwhile Prowl and Ultra Magnus try to keep Iacon from destroying itself as panic grips the populace, and as Prowl fights for his sanity after a year's separation from his bonded and the sure knowledge that Jazz may not survive.
Chapter 12
Chapter 13 over on AO3
Chapter 13
It was time. The crowds had gathered and the new Supreme Commander of the Autobots was going to address the masses. One last step and the plot would be complete.
Jazz mentally ticked off his victims.
Bumblebee: Deactivated – throat ripped out in the med bay
Optimus Prime: Deactivated – head blown apart with a well-placed shot.
Mirage: Deactivated – victim of an explosion
Prowl: Deactivated – …
Jazz stumbled for a moment as he thought of Prowl.
“I deactivated him,” Jazz whispered. “I fired on him and I killed him. … I think I did? Didn’t I?”
"Stop overthinking this. You have a mission. Just get to it,” a soft voice whispered in the back of his mind. “Let it go and move on. You are the head of Special Operations for reason. You were chosen for a reason. You can and will complete this mission just like you always do. You will take out your enemies just as you have been trained to.”
The voice was uncomfortably familiar but he couldn’t place it and yet there was something wrong with it. A chirping sound that skittered along the edge of his memory. Every time he almost found the origin, almost found what was wrong, it was ripped away from his reach and he was alone in his head again. But the advice was sound. Logical, even. He couldn’t waste his time worrying about past jobs; not when he was so close to his final assassination.
As predicted, Ultra Magnus had been forced to address the crowd, had been forced to come out of hiding and calm the fears of the panicking masses. Jazz settled into his sniper’s nest, patiently waiting for the scene to begin. Magnus would have to come out of his hidey hole soon. The crowd was growing restless.
Jazz didn’t have to wait long.
---
Ultra Magnus leaned against the frame of the door leading out to the large balcony, arms crossed over his broad chest as he listened to the other senior staff members with half an audio. Their discussion was bordering on argument and it was clear that they were circling back to the beginning of the issue.
"Yes, we need to encourage calm among the population, but we can't rely on their good judgement," Red Alert said sharply, and Ironhide's hand came down gently on the other mech's arm.
Red Alert vented and made a visible attempt to calm himself before launching back into his argument only to be interrupted by Ironhide.
“Look, you know that Ah’m the last person to jump on th’ idea o’ locking down the citizen and the city. Optimus wouldn’t like that one bit,” Ironhide said with more than a little mournfulness in his words and demeanour. “But th’ fact o’ the matter is that we’re lookin’ at riots out there. Folk’s’re scared an’ they need t’ know that we’re lookin’ out for them.”
“I don’t disagree with that assessment,” Prowl replied slowly, “but we are looking at only a forty-nine per cent chance of success in this endeavour. It is far more likely that the public will view martial law as a confirmation of their fears and they will fight us on it. Riots will increase rather than decrease and we will be forced to bring in troops from the Front to maintain order. We are spread thin enough as is and we cannot afford the time or the mechpower.”
"So, what? We do nothing?" Red Alert demanded. "We just allow the riots to continue? We mollify them with words instead of actions? That will not work and all of your numbers will not change that fact!"
"I am not suggestion that, Red Alert!" Prowl snapped. He quickly regained his composure and his hand came up to rub his chest over his spark chamber. "What I am suggesting is not a lack of action, it is simply a compromise. Yes, we need to do something to enforce the law and calm, but we cannot simply accomplish this with force of arms. I prefer Ironhide's suggestion of rolling curfews. It would have the greatest chance of accomplishing our aims."
"That weren't my idea," Ironhide said simply, shaking his head. "That was Red who suggested it. Look, we can solve all this real easy. What do you think of all this, Magnus?"
Ultra Magnus had only been listening with half an audio. Instead most of his attention was on the world outside this room. He was sure that if he stretched out his senses, he could both hear and feel the anger of the public. Their barely contained rage almost washed over him and the burden of it was nearly unbearable. Logically, he knew he was imagining it all, but a part of him had to wonder if this wasn't the influence of the Matrix and if this is what everything felt like to Optimus. The thought of going out there to face the public with no shielding between them and their raw emotions ... Give him a war and he would fight it, but this political battle was something far out of his comfort zone.
"Ultra Magnus?" Prowl prompted gently. "Your thoughts? You are, after all, the final authority on this."
Magnus looked up at Prowl and cycled his optics in a blink as he tried to focus his attention back to the matter at hand. He quickly replayed the conversation, separating and weighing out the options as they were presented.
“I don’t relish the idea of going out there and telling the people that they will be confined to their homes. We’re fighting for freedom and there’s something very wrong with accomplishing that by taking freedom away,” Ultra Magnus said carefully. “But by the same token, if we do have Decepticons agents and sympathisers out there we can’t allow them to threaten the public any more than they already have.”
“So, what then?” Ironhide asked. “Partial curfews? Rolling shut downs?”
Magnus shook his head. “Not shut downs. That’s far too extreme a response and I don’t want to force that on anyone. No. We need to go out there, explain the situation to the public, and then ask them to calmly return to their homes.”
“And when they don’t agree?” Red Alert asked, darkly.
“If that happens then we’ll deal with it then. I’d rather not do out there looking for a fight. This is going to be hard enough as it is,” Magnus said sombrely.
With that he turned toward the door only to be stopped by Prowl’s hand on his back.
“We still have not dealt with security yet,” Prowl prompted. “We have every reason to suspect that there are Decepticons infiltrating the city and instigating the violence out there. Add to that, Jazz-” Prowl stalled slightly and his hand spasmed slightly as it rested on his chest. “Add to that, Jazz is still out there and he is likely not done with us yet.”
“We have increased security out there,” Ironhide replied. “We have to trust that they can keep Magnus safe when he goes out there. The only other option is that we stay in here and make the speech by video.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad to me,” Red Alert said firmly. “No offence to your security patrols, Ironhide, but they didn’t do much against Jazz when he broke out of here. We have no reason to believe that they’ll do any better when he has more room to work in.”
Ironhide glared at Red Alert and was about to defend his team when Ultra Magnus raised his hand.
“There’s also the possibility that Jazz is out there planning on assassinating me with a sniper rifle. Or maybe he’s in the base already, or maybe Smokescreen and Mirage have succeeded in capturing Jazz and are simply waiting for the riots to die down before coming back here. It’s all a lot of maybes and no real facts,” Magnus sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Prowl, what are the numbers here? What are the odds if I go out there?”
Prowl’s optics dimmed slightly as he ran the numbers through his battle computer, confirming what he already knew.
“There is a greater than seventy-five percent chance that Jazz is out there waiting to assassinate you from a distance,” he finally said softly. “He will choose a location that grants him a line of sight, but that also avails him with the best opportunities to pull out and escape after the job is done.”
“That narrows it down to all the old apartments out there,” Red Alert said angrily. “And at this point we don’t have time to secure those buildings or close them down properly!”
“And we won’t be,” Magnus replied, surprisingly calm. “First off, that isn’t my decision to make, it’s Prime’s. And secondly, even if it was my decision, I wouldn’t make it. There’s no point in fighting if we just end up taking away the homes of our troops.”
Red Alert looked about to argue the point, but he stood down at Ultra Magnus’s firm look.
“Now,” Magnus continued, “there’s far too great a chance against my person if I go out there, but if I don’t I imagine that the chances are any better if I stay in here. The public will take that very badly and the riots will increase until we can’t control them at all. But what if I were to out there with protection? What are the numbers then?”
Prowl’s optics narrowed slightly as he wrapped his processor around the question and the implications. “What kind of protection were you considering?”
“There’s a young tactician on site who can create nearly impenetrable forcefields and another who creates holograms,” Ultra Magnus explained. “Between the two of them we might be able to turn this to our advantage. In fact, between the four of us, we may even be able to come up with a way to bring Jazz in before he causes any more collateral damage. Unless you’ve heard something from Smokescreen and Mirage?”
“I have not,” Prowl replied. “I also have no reason to believe that they have failed in their mission. After all, they have not had much time to fulfil their objectives. Especially when one considers that Jazz does not wish to be captured.”
The 2IC’s optics flicked slightly before he continued. “I do not believe that attempting to apprehend Jazz by force is our best course of action. He will fight back if he is cornered and he will take out anyone who gets in the way, be they security forces or the public gathering out there. If you push him too far, he will not distinguish between innocent bystander and genuine threat.”
Ultra Magnus was silent for a moment before nodding. “Fine. Then we do what we can to defend me out there and see where it takes us. Ironhide, please get Trailbreaker up here and brief him. As soon as we’re sure he can put up a large enough field, I’ll go address the public.”
Ironhide paused for a moment then nodded, turning on his heel and heading out of the room to page Trailbreaker.
“Excuse me,” Red Alert said tightly. “I want to make sure that all of my cameras are functioning out there. Jazz is dangerous and the last thing we want is to be caught with a blind spot.”
Without waiting for confirmation Red Alert strode from the room, his helm lights flickering in obvious irritation and concern.
Prowl sighed softly. “He may not like this plan, but it is a good one. The best option we have given the circumstances.”
Magnus nodded. “I just wish I was more sure of all this. I’ll feel better once it’s all over.”
---
Smokescreen slipped through the crowd of mechs carefully, being sure to stay near the edges of the square. From this angle he could see most of the area and get a feel for the mechs within it, and his doors were practically shivering with feedback he was collecting from the crowd. Everyone was agitated but contained, though that could change in an instant – all it would take was a single spark to ignite the entire area into a conflagration.
“Up and to your left,” a voice whispered in his audio as a delicate hand brushed over his door-wing with a light touch.
Smokescreen fought the urge to arch into the touch. He knew that Mirage was only trying to get his attention and had no idea what effect he was having, but at the same time, Smokescreen could still feel the phantom presence of the spy’s body and field against him. The Praxian had always been sybaritic being and the events of the day had his senses high and his nerves on edge. When that was added to the sensations he was picking up from the crowd … had he anywhere else under any other circumstance, he would already have a willing partner pinned against an alley wall.
“Left!” Mirage hissed when he didn’t get an immediate reaction from the psychologist, and his fingers snapped sharply against one over sensitized door. “Quadrant seven eight nine two.”
“Yeah. Fine,” Smokescreen snapped, using every ounce of control to avoid punching the spy in his face, assuming that he could find it. It was only with a supreme effort that Smokescreen managed to control himself and drag his attention up and to the area that Mirage was indicating.
At first there was nothing, and then a slight, almost instantaneous flash caught Smokescreen’s attention.
“You’re losing your touch, Jazz,” he murmured to himself as he changed his path through the crowd, aiming for the building Jazz was using as his sniper’s nest.
Suddenly the crowd surged forward as the doors to the main dais opened, revealing three large and shadowy figures inside.
“Frag,” Smokescreen heard Mirage whisper. “We’re officially out of time.”
Mirage shoved Smokescreen back into motion. Ignoring the need for discretion, Smokescreen broke into a run, stopping only when he reached the door of the abandoned apartment building. The door was sealed and he was about to hack into it when it suddenly flew open.
Mirage appeared just inside the doorway as he dropped his disruption field and glared at Smokescreen.
“We don’t have time for subtlety!” he snapped before running up a nearby set of stair, heading in the direction of the room they suspected Jazz was occupying.
As Smokescreen was about to follow Mirage when the figures on the dais came into full view and the Praxian nearly stalled out. There, standing in front of Ultra Magnus and Prowl was Optimus Prime, alive and apparently completely fine despite having lost his head only two cycles before.
A near-silent oath escaped Smokescreen’s vocalizer only to turn into a squawk of outrage as a slim hand grabbed his doorwing roughly.
“Jazz is our only concern!” Mirage snapped as he yanked the Praxian through the door and shoved him up the stairs.
Outside they heard Optimus Prime begin to address the crowd. If Jazz was still in any way Jazz, he would still have enough flair to choose the perfect moment to attack and finish his assassinations. Mirage and Smokescreen knew that they only had moments before it would be too late.
Together they moved as quickly as they could while still remaining quiet.