Ep. 0.5 - Watching You Watching Me - Closed

[Deleted]

<<This is set immediately after Cool Cats. The companion piece, Peer Pressure, happens immediately after this one, so it would go
cool cats -> Watching You Watching Me -> Peer Pressure -> Stop and Smell the Flowers 1>>



It hadn't taken Jazz long to realize that he was not the only one operating surveillance in the base. He'd first discovered it by heading to install a camera in a perfect little corner viewing an internal hallway junction near the personal quarters, scanning it as he approached only to find that it was already occupied by a tiny, obviously Cybertronian camera.

Jazz had, nonplussed, walked right passed the corner and staked it out. Later in the day, staying out of line of sight, he'd given the little spycamera a pulse of scrambling EM, then set up a camera to watch the camera. A few cycles' patience had yielded the identity of his little spybot, come to tweak his malfunctioning camera.

A bit of scanning had found that that camera was by no means the only one. The rec room. Several small, rooms that they were using as storage closets. The washracks. Jazz found one in his own oft-unused quarters and SEVERAL in Ironhide's rooms.

At that point, the picture of the situation became clear.

Jazz figured that it wasn't really part of his duty to secure all the base to keep Rattrap from his...activities...but they would obviously be upsetting and terrible for morale they ever came to light. So, Jazz decided to be discreet.

"Discreet" meant cornering Rattrap in the washracks one day while he fiddled with one of his cameras set in the wall.

"Hey," Jazz said to Rattrap's back, casually blocking the doorway.

[rattrap]

Very few things are more of a dead giveaway than jumping guiltily when caught doing something unauthorized (and, possibly, specifically forbidden).

Fortunately for Rattrap, guilt was one of those things which had never quite made it into his programming.

"Hey there Jazzmeister." Rattrap slid the tiny camera back into its concealing nook next to the washrack controls and turned, not trying very hard to conceal the way his optics swept up over the other mech. "Just makin' a few adjustments. Din't figure anyone'd need th' racks this time a day. I can clear out, if ya like."

[Deleted]

"A few adjustments, huh? Didn't know that there was anything wrong with the washracks...." Jazz said, leaning against the doorway.

Rattrap seemed pretty harmless, as far as Jazz could tell. The base wasn't rife with the kind of suspicion and distrust that came from a blackmailer plying his trade, so likely what Rattrap had been filming he'd been keeping to himself. But Team Axalon hadn't been on Earth all that long, and it was possible he was just building up stock. And even if he wasn't...there wasn't but a tiny step from HAVING such material and using such material as a threat. And Jazz had spent too much time making sure everyone was slowly becoming happier here on Earth to stand by while someone wrecked it. Certainly there were plenty of personnel on base who might not care, but there were others who were already distrustful of others in general who it might actually drive away. Velocity, for one. Shadow, for another.

Not to mention if Ironhide found out about the cameras in his quarters, he was going to stomp Rattrap into itty bitty pieces, and Jazz didn't particularly want to have to break 'Hide out of the brig. Again.

Jazz popped one of the cameras that he'd uninstalled from 'Hide's room out of his subspace, examining it idly. It was patchwork, obviously custom-made. "S'is nice work, by the way. Don't like the use you put it to, but I ever need tiny concealable cameras, I definitely know which mech to go to, eh?"

[rattrap]

The humans had a saying of which Rattrap whole-sparkedly approved, even if it was irrelevant to his species, and that was Never let them see you sweat. It was in that spirit that he'd long ago learned to shunt aside the shock of recognition when one of his toys appeared as evidence, before it could cause a telltale flicker in his field or autonomic systems.

" 'preciate the compliment, but what makes ya think that's mine?" he asked, extending one servo in a gimme gesture. "Toy like that's more likely ta belong ta you or I Spy or th' Noisemaker, ain't it?"

[Deleted]

"Oh, definitely," Jazz agreed amiably. "My first thought was the Decepticons, but then I thought, 'Jazz, if the 'Cons had access to the base interior, they'd do more than just bug the place.' So no, I'm fairly sure this one's yours. 'Specially since I saw you repairing one just like it in Hall Theta yesterday after I fried it."

He tossed the device to Rattrap and went back to leaning on the doorway. "So I asked myself, 'Self, what would Rattrap be doing setting up hidden cameras? Surely nothing nefarious, right?'"

Jazz gestured, field longwave but also impenetrably glasslike. "So, here I am. What ARE you doing setting up hidden cameras, Rattrap?"

[rattrap]

Rattrap caught the camera with a non-committal "huh" sound and settled in to inspect it as if he'd never seen it before (as opposed to recognizing it instantly as the one with the really good angle on Ironhide's berth, slag it).

Over the vorn, he had learned that an amazing number of mecha would start doubting the evidence of their own optics when faced with calm and persistent denial. Slag, he'd even pulled that off a few times on the Axalon, and they knew him. Jazz didn't seem the type to fall for it, but no harm in trying.

"Don't know what ya thought ya saw, but it wouldn'ta been me repairin' anythin' just like this." Technically true; all of his cameras were custom made from whatever he could cobble into doing the job. "Ya sure yer own equipment's up ta spec? I could take a look at it for ya, if ya like."

[Deleted]

"Nah, my equipment's fine. And if there's some kind of malfunction that'll make it look like you're inspecting a fritzed camera and fixing it for five kliks, I'm the next Prime." His glyphs were unswayed, with undertones of you are so busted, give it up.

"So what's the deal? I don't believe I'm saying this, but I'm kind of hoping you're just the garden-variety pervert, 'cuz that's better'n a 'Con mole. 'Cuz it's gonna be bad for morale if I've gotta kill ya." Jazz vented a sigh, his glyphs sliding ever so slightly into Kaonese streetcant. "I've got a good record goin' here--" "here" as in "at this post" "--of not havin' to kill anyone, Rattrap. I will be VERY SAD to have to break it. Not to mention it'll make Rhinox cry. I really don't wanna have t' make Rhinox cry."

[rattrap]

And when denial didn't work, move on to bribery.

"So, whaddaya want, exac'ly?" Rattrap finished looking over the camera (undamaged; Jazz apparently had more respect for a good camera than I Spy did) and slipped it into his subspace. "In when I get th' good stuff? 'Cause I gotta tell ya, I ain't gettin' much a that on this base."

An' you've co-starred in most of it, he wisely did not add. He did have some sense of self-preservation, after all.

[Deleted]

Something about Rattrap's responses, the avoidance of explaining his actions, sent up red flags in Jazz's cortex, like pedes tripping multiple tripwires. He knew that he was probably overreacting, but Jazz was spec ops. Justified paranoia and a constant eye out for infiltrators were part of the job.

"What I WANT is for you to answer my slaggin' questions." Jazz's voice didn't raise. It just chilled like a ship dumping heat as it headed into black space. It was not the voice of the friendly Jazz that had been hopping from one meet-and-greet to another. It was, perhaps, the voice of Optimus' Prime's current ranking spec ops officer. Who was still blocking the only door out of the room.

"In case y'missin' it here, secret recordin's of y'fellow Autobots s'against regs for REASONS. One of 'em's that spec ops mechs like me get REALLY TWITCHY 'bout intel flowin' somewhere they don't know 'bout. An as much as I like y'team, I don't know ya enough for ya to get a free pass for slag like this. So, let's try this again: why are you spying on the entire base?"

[rattrap]

"What, ya never like ta watch?" Rattrap snarked. There was enough hard-aft in Jazz's voice and field to keep him from any boasts about what he could do with the information, but he didn't have to like it. He shot Jazz an obnoxious smirk. "Ya don't strike me as the prudish type. An' th' only intel I got," his field flared with outright mockery, "is that ev'ryone on this base has their slaggin' plates clamped too tight."

[Deleted]

Rattrap's complete and total obliviousness (and Jazz could hear the lack of tension in the little mech's joints and hydraulics) to the fact that Jazz was seriously considering whether or not to kill him...said more about his innocence than anything else. Any undercover spec ops mech would have picked up on it a klik ago and at the least have increased hydraulic pressure in preparation for fight or flight.

Jazz sighed, letting his own tension melt away. He pushed away from the door and dismissed the readiness protocols that had kicked on. "You are a glitch," Jazz said. "And comin' from me, that's sayin' something, Rattrap. For the record, you ever get stationed with a spec ops mech MORE twitchy than me, send him a nice note that you're a pervy voyeur and not spying for the 'Cons, eh? It'll be good for your health."

Jazz held up a clawed finger. "LIKE not settin' up cameras in folks' quarters will be good for your health. Personally, I don't care, but I can count three mecha off my top queue that'll line up to rip you into itty bitty pieces, they find out you're filmin' 'em. And I don't wanna see that happen. Murder's bad for morale."

[rattrap]

"Ya thought..." Jazz's words made Rattrap's optics flare bright with fury. "Ya thought I'd work for that slag-sucking smelter 'facing buckethead? After what happened ta th' Axalon..."

He advanced on Jazz with cold fury and a thorough disregard for the fact that he was a small sanitation bot attempting to glare down the head of Autobot spec ops. "I lost too many friends ta this war, pal. Good friends, mechs I'da died for. Ya really think I got anything ta share with a Con that don't end with him gettin' his face blown off?"

[Deleted]

Jazz just tilted his head, his lips quirking with less humor than usual. "I've known agents so deep undercover, their true loyalties under so much mole programming, that they'd look JUST like you, Rattrap. Someone who joined vorn and vorn ago, lost friends and family and have NO visible reason to spy on or betray or kill their 'allies'. But I've seen it happen. I've taken down mecha like that and helped put others in place. Can you blame me for seein' them whenever somethin' fishy happens?"

Jazz sat down on the floor with a sigh, legs crossed. "All I know about you I got from your file and talkin' to you'n your friends for a few decacycles. There's a lot I don't know, and bein' suspicious is in my job description. Sorry you took offense, but...." He spread his hands in a "whatcha gonna do, eh?" gesture. "I'm just makin' sure we're all safe."

[rattrap]

"Th' Axalon left Cybertron way before th' war started," Rattrap said, his field still crackling with anger. "An' I ain't exactly th' type a mech a bully like Megatron would be lookin' ta recruit anyway."

Frankly, Rattrap had always wondered at those of his function class who did rally behind Megatron, as if an energon-thirsty gladiator would see them as any less expendable than the Cybertronian elite did. Always a fan of looking out for his own best interests, he had seen more value in the system he knew how to lie, cheat, and steal his way around, than in one built on the ruthless brutality of the gladiatorial arenas.

"Though I s'ppose you'd be th' one ta know how Megsy thinks, seein' as how ya were buddy-buddy with him back when this mess started."

[Deleted]

He used to recruit anyone with a will, Jazz thought wistfully, but didn't say. He'd burned too many bridges to defend Megatron now. Even though he sometimes felt as if Megatronus...deserved more credit than most Autobots gave him. Not that Jazz could blame them. Both sides exaggerated their enemies' flaws.

Jazz shrugged. His being a 'signia switcher wasn't at all secret, though it'd been awhile since it'd been a big deal. He wondered whether Rattrap had heard about Jazz from someone or whether he'd just been checking out the mainframe. "That was a long time ago. Besides, wasn't so much Megatron as it was spec ops, really. Deep cover was a big thing back before the exodus. Back when it was easier to know where the frag your enemy's lines WERE so you could plant a spy behind 'em."

Not to say that Megatron didn't appreciate a well-planned betrayal. Mostly for the manipulation of expectations, as far as Jazz could tell.