[ti]Flashback[/ti]Dear Optimus - [Closed]

[Jazz]

     Safely tucked away, the Autobot leader was, and the Elite Guard were scattering everywhere to try to keep one step ahead of the Decepticon attacks. Though Jazz was rarely right at his side, he still felt the need to stay in contact with his good friend, even if it were through sending these datapads. Or, at least he may have assumed them sent, but they always did just mysteriously drop on his office desk.

     This one was different. This one wasn't a 'Checking up on you, hope to hear from you soon' audio file. No, this was a very lengthy compilation of video and audio uploaded directly from Jazz's most private of stored memories. Perhaps it was a way of him purging his memory core, or something had happened that would prompt this strange event, but whatever it was didn't seem rise concern in Jazz's voice. It was also different in the means of which it was delivered. This one had been delivered to Optimus directly, by one of the workers who had found it while getting the Ark fueled and ready for departure.

     "Hey, Optimus!"


     "Not sure if you'll ever see this, or if you'll want to, but I figured I would at least upload this from my memory core so that you'd have some sort of idea what I'm doing with my life now that I'm off in... well... wherever it is that Magnus leads us off to. Not that I could disclose our location without tall-blue-and-broody lashin' my hide over it anyway. Yeah, so, I wasn't sure when or how I was going to start this but I figured this was a good a time as any. Both pedes in, right, sir? I never was on to hold back the fun parts of any situation, right? So here's a little thing to remember me by and all that other sappy stuff."

     "Jazz? Jazz!... Ugh, that mech... Ja--- WHAT THE FRAG?!" A black and spring green mech who had been wandering around looking for Jazz had finally found him after scouting through every inch of this stupid corridor. And actually, it was Jazz finding him, since he had come down from the ceiling right behind the older mech and clamped his servos down quickly on his shoulders, causing his spark to skip a pulse.

     "JAZZ!" he continued after he had wheeled around to face his assailant, trying to stop the hitches in his vocoder while he struggled to pull air into his intakes. "Are you TRYING to offline me before our first mission? What is WRONG with you?!"

"That guy's Reload. He's my partner, if ya hadn't guessed! He's really cool when he wants to be. Can you believe he's OLDER than us? He looks like he's fresh off the assembly line! I think he was a bodyguard for the Towerlings or somethin'. Dunno for sure. I'll let ya know when I access his file later."

"...He doesn't know I can do that, so don't tell him."

     "I was bored, Reload. You know how dangerous that is. You left me alone with nothing to do so I figured I'd just... you know... hone my skills. Like an expert hunter out on the lookout for Cyberfox." Jazz just grinned at his partner, who was still making the most angry pouting face he could. "Aw, don't look like that Reload! Actually, no, go ahead and keep looking at me like that. You're adorable when you're angry." True, he was, and he loved to tease Reload about it cause it just got his circuits sparking in ways that only Jazz could do. His embarrassment was just TOO easy sometimes.

     That statement only flustered Reload more and he grunted in annoyance. "Alright, Jazz-"

     "Call me the Great Cyberfox Hunter!"

     "... No. What the frag? Why?"

     "Do it."

     "No."

     "Please?"

     "I said no."

     Silence, then another huff, and Reload reached out to grab Jazz's wrist to tug him along but he dug in his heels and refused to go willingly. Reload grumbled under his vent, not really wanting to deal with this at the moment. He could have just hauled Jazz over his shoulder and walked that way, but Jazz would probably have pulled something then to. So, he just surrendered. 

     "Alright, fine. Great Cyberbox Hunter JAZZ." Jazz smirked and allowed himself to be walked then. "We have a meeting with Magnus that we're probably already late for. If are and we get caught, you are going to stand up and admit to everyone that it was your fault."

     "Fine, fine." Reload shot him a look. "What?! I will! Cross my spark I will."

     That was a lie and Reload knew it. But he just kept dragging him down the corridor, hoping that by some SLIM chance, they weren't going to be late.

[Jazz]

     The datapad seemed to have a malfunction, the screen going blank with just the sound of static. That was replaced by some music instrument, probably a split audio memory from Jazz given his love for just sitting around and listening to it.

     "Okay, so, onward! I had to skip over some stuff... gotta skip here to, cause things are important secret-type.. hm hm... AH! Got a spot for ya!"

     "My loyal Guardsmen. I am here before you to introduce the new round of recruits that have passed their exams and are now ready for their hands on training. I hope that each of you see to it that they are given a very thorough test."

     Behind Magnus, who was standing opposite side of the room to the Guard facing them, stood about ten others who stood with their servos behind their backs in solid, stone-walled attention. He was walking up and down the line, casting looks over each mech as though looking for some loose link in the ranks. All stood tall and silent like the statues that lined some of the fancier streets of Iaon.

     "That tall, blue, broody type there is Ultra Magnus. He's kinda.. um... well, you know how much I hated that guy we worked with in the Library that was always so monotone and DULL? The one that made me turn off my music when I was inside? Yeah, Magnus makes HIM look like the life of the party. Trust me, I ain't the only one to think so. Some of us call him Commander blah-blah-blah cause we only ever hear the first word before we just kinda give up tryin' to understand him. At least for stuff like these protocol meetin's and non-important-stuff. Cause you can count on your guards to be in tip-top shape and performin' at their best when duty calls, Prime Sir!"

     "Those guys with him? The recruits. Kinda weird, ain't it? This memory is from so long ago that you may be workin' with some of them now! A couple of them did pass then were assigned elsewhere. Who knows!"

     Jazz snickered to himself and Reload nudged him hard in the side which got a squeak from the smaller mech in response. Reload had wanted to keep his partner quiet since they were needing to actually look professional in front of the youngsparks, but Jazz ruined that rather promptly. 

    "Don't HIT me, Relo--MMPH!"

     Jazz had been loud in his protest, in which Reload had quickly clamped his servo over Jazz's mouth to keep him quiet. But it was too late. The entire room turned towards them and, while Jazz wasn't bothered by the attention, Reload could have done without it. He freed Jazz from his old and cleared his vocoder then visibly slunk down to try and hide behind the mechs who were infront of him. Jazz just stood there, grinning as he usually did, pleased with himself for the commotion. Magnus was less so and called Reload down to explain himself. Before he left Jazz could have sworn he'd made a rather rude gesture to him.

     "Can'ya believe he made Reload clean the washracks a while deca-cycle?! It was terrible. I would have felt bad for him if I didn't keep poppin' to check on him and would see him singin' to himself and dancin' like he ain't had a care."

     "... Don't tell him I saw him doin' that either, yeah? Ol' mech may short himself out. At least he didn't hold a grudge after that. Think he was kinda used to me at this point. OH! Here's one you'll enjoy."

     "Remember, Autobot Jazz... you're only here because you were hand picked by our great leader to join into our ranks. You don't have a chance in the Pits of lasting for long and I look FORWARD to your fall back to the ground where you belong, Ground-pounder."

     "That one's Troupe. He's kind of a loser in gold and likes to pick fights when he has his two other lackeys with him. Seekers. They're a NASTY bunch when they're alone, but in a group? It's like... way worse. I keep tellin' Magnus that he's a jerk and all of 'em outta have a stripe taken away, but he don't listen. Somethin' about 'Seekers blah blah blah'. Anyway."

     "Oh? It's funny that would be the only reason I got in." Jazz's grin grew wider. "Considerin' that I won against you in the preliminaries and that's why I got three strips and you have one." That made the energon in the other guardsman blaze hot and he took a swing at Jazz, wanting to catch him straight clear in the face. Jazz was able to duck out of the way and whirled around to spin around behind the mech, bringing up one pede in a kick that caught him right in the center of his back strut and sent him stumbling forward in a fit of curses. 

     "I also nailed ya to the wall in the hand-to-hand. Remember that? Only I think at that time I had a bigger crowd that meant more than your hatchmates here, AND ya'were on the floor. So you weren't much more than a ground-pounder yourself." Troupe was getting up and turning to Jazz, looking like he was ready to rip him to pieces. Jazz didn't back down, though, even as the considerably larger mech closed the distance between them. "Come on, sparkles. Hit me. Maybe I'll even make a noise that'll tell ya I'm enjoyin' it. Then I'll kick your aft again just to remind ya that tryin' to compensate for lack of skill by pickin' a fight is a dangerous game'ta play."

     There may have been a fist thrown, but Reload was in the way this time and it stopped further advances from Troupe right away. He may have had the nerve to go after Jazz and chalk it up to the little mech got mouthy with him and said something inappropriate, but Reload? He didn't dare.

     "Back off, Troupe. All THREE of you! Get going before I report your actions to Magnus!"

     That didn't take two times to get the lugs moving along, but it did earn Reload some curses and what sounded like a threat about a target on Jazz's back and for him to watch out.

     "My Hero!"

     "Shut it, Jazz. That was unnecessary."

     "But they started it. I just finished it by makin' sure they didn't forget HOW I did it."

     "It's three of them, Jazz... THREE. BIG. MECHS. What in the name of Primus is wrong with you?"

     "I'll be fine, Reload. Really. I can take care of myself. If ya worry too much you're gonna get your internal workin's in a bundle and malfunction, sweetspark."

     "I hate it when you call me that."

     "No ya don't. Now, ain't'cha hungry? I could eat a whole bag or two of those energon goodies!"

[Jazz]

     "Wish I could share more with ya, Optimus, but ya understand that there's some things that just can't be disclosed just in case this falls into the wrong servos or somethin'. Ya know how it is."

     The voice on the Datapad seemed to trail off a bit and there was silence. The end of the message?

     "Hey, Optimus..."

     Not quite yet. It was a video recording but it wasn't from Jazz's memory.  No, this time it was Jazz just sitting there at his desk recording himself at the present. At least present for when the recording was made. Though he was smiling, there was an unusual sadness about the way he seemed to carry himself. His visor was turned down low and his helm was tilted forward slightly.

     "... I miss ya, man, I really do. Is... Is it weird for me to say I kinda wish we could go back to before you were Prime? Not that I got an issue with you bein' Prime or nothin'!"

     Jazz chuckled, but it was soft and quite reserved. He shifted in his chair and leaned back, staring off at something to the side.

     "It wasn't ideal then either, but I got to see more of ya, and things weren't as delicate or strained. You were... well... there wasn't so much ridin' on your shoulders. You weren't at risk of bein' offlined- none of us really were unless we were just plain stupid. Now ya can't trust no one; can't turn your back. One minute someone may be shootin' the enemy and keepin' an optic out for ya, and the next cycle? They're part of the crew that are tryin' ta offline ya. Like these clowns I work with. I swear that there's somethin' off somewhere but I can't figure it out no matter how hard I try. Maybe my ol' age is makin' me rusty? I can't sense a traitor in our midst? Or I could just be paranoid."

     Jazz vented heavily and turned his attention back to the datapad he was recording on. There had been something hidden in his words, especially with the way he said 'traitor'. Clearly Jazz suspected something but there was no way he hadn't been able to figure it out, or at least come really close to doing so.

     "I knew the war was gonna take a long time to finish up, but I never thought it would take THIS long! I get it that everyone's fightin' their own cause and stuff, but does it really have to drag on like this? It's kinda stupid when ya think about it. The war, not the cause. Both sides fightin' for really the same thing but just wantin' a different outcome. It's silly that we just can't find a simple middle ground."

     Jazz cleared his vocoder. A distraction from his traitor statement. Sympathy. Anything who may have intercepted it could have taken it as a sign of weakness in his loyalty to the cause. Maybe it was true... something Optimus would need to question him about?

     "That's not the point, though. Point is? I wanted to thank ya for... well... everythin'. You pushed me to do this, gave me the clear road to make somethin' of myself in this war. You saw somethin' in me that I never saw in myself. You're more of a spark twin to me than anyone else could ever be, even if they DID share part of mine! That's really special."

     Someone shouted in the distance and Jazz looked up again.

     "Yeah! I'm comin', I'm comin'!"

      Then he looked back.

     "Well... I guess that's it, then. At least, that's all I can show you that wouldn't comprise anythin'. I know the Ark outta be ready to fly out anytime soon now and I can't wait to see ya! It's been way too long and I hate that our duties keep me from botherin' the scrap outta ya."

     There was a heavy booming sound then mechanical groans heard far away on the recording. It was those noises that lead to Jazz's faceplate finally lighting up. His visor got brighter and that smile that was so typical of Jazz finally came out again.

     "Know what that sound is? It means we've landed! That's us about to meet up! Can't wait! Shouldn't take too long for us to get there. If you're gettin' this, though? We were late and missed the launch. See ya!"

Transmission Ended

     'If you're gettin' this, though? We were late and missed the launch.' Something Jazz knew? Foresaw? Questions that would go unanswered.

     That was the end. That would be the last message sent and the teams would never meet up. Shortly after the docking, the Elite Guard team was sent out on what would be their final mission. Intelligence had gathered that the intentions were to destroy the Ark before it could launch and the main team had been sent to stop the attempt. After their departure? The team was never heard or seen from again. All that the Ark was fed from the crew of the flying fortress were life signals that had disappeared from their feed.

     Sparks extinguished. Lives cut short.

     ... and what had happened to the team? Unknown. Causalities of war that would fade into the darkness of Cybertron herself.

     The Exodus commenced. 

FINAL