[ti]Flashback[/ti]Can't be too careful with your company [ Closed || Prowl ]

[Jazz]

Timeline: During the war. Pre exodus
Summary: In a war, sometimes your weapons are your only assests and they need to be used to their full protentional. Jazz and Prowl have worked well together in spite of their clashing personality types, and while sending the special ops soldier out to gather information may have seemed like a good idea at the time, it seems that even their skilled technician needs to make a backup plan for the backup plan.

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     The guard entered the brig, making his rounds as he did any other cycle and checked on the prisoners as he strolled past the series of cells. Most of the prisoners were in recharge, either trying to conserve what energy they had left, or because there just wasn't anything else to do besides hope they would wake up in a different place. For those who weren't? Well, those who weren't were in no condition to make a scene, either. For some, the sounds of rattling chains or their engines revving were the only signs they were even still functioning. 

     As he neared the second to the last cell, he noticed that the overhead light was out so he couldn't see into it like he had for others. They'd only been dimly lit to begin with which added to the oppressive ambiance, but to have it be entirely dark? That was problematic for them when making their rounds. The guard tapped on the wall outside of the bars to get the attention of the prisoner who resided in the cell. When there was no response he looked from left to right, then back in the cell again. Another knock? Still nothing. He figured that he had to be in recharge like the rest, or at least ashamed of himself for being captured, but the fact there was no sound at all coming from the confined space did make him a little concerned. Had they roughed him up too much? Did he cease to function? He thought it over then made the decision to go inside. He deactivated the bars and stepped inside.

     This particular prisoner was one of their gold mines- their way in to the good graces of their Warlord. They'd bragged about capturing him. That was the cargo they needed to make sure stayed intact above all the others- and the fact there was zero signs of life within had been what spurred the choice to risk going in. It wasn't as if he could do anything, anyway. They'd made sure he was going to be as little trouble as possible. He stepped further into the cell, crossing the threshold into the dark and raised his blaster to keep it at the ready.

     Once the mech crossed that line, there was a brief moment of silence before a scrape of metal to metal, and then a loud THUD. A buzzing sound came from the darkness and a flicker of light cut through before fully illuminating in the shape of a chevron. The blue screen flashed as it registered various codes as the small mech rose to his pedes and made his way out of the cell, looked both ways, then tapped the control panel to turn the bars back on behind him. He rubbed his wrists briefly as he got his bearings then started his exploration,  checking the blaster he had stolen off the guard who was now graciously taking his place.

     With his back pressed against the hall wall, he raised the weapon in one servo and leaned around the corner to make sure no one was coming before opening his comm channel that had been off for several cycles.

     :: Prowler? It's Jazz. Sorry 'bout the lack of contact- Got myself caught up in som' in'. How's it hangin' on your end?::

[Prowl]

Prowl should have been surprised to have his commlink light up with someone who had not reported in for such a long time.

Afterall, part of him had written Jazz off as another casualty of war by this point, killed off by Cons or some other danger on this Primus forsaken planet which everyone was pouring their sparks into to try and save. But then again, the other part of him had known that Jazz would have been a valued prisoner if caught. Megatron would have had him executed on a live broadcast, in an attempt to break Autobot spirits, after a lengthy interrogation process to attempt to extract as much information as possible.

But there had been no such broadcast. Therefore, Prowl was not surprised when his commlink lit up with an incoming call from the Elite Guard saboteur.

Irritated it took so long? That Jazz was continuing to use this...informal slang?

Oh, most definitely.

The strategist turned a corner around the halls of Autobot command, ducking into his office and closing the door behind him before he lifted his servo to his helm, activating his commlink to transmit on a secure channel. It would be of no use to him and Optimus Prime if this call got intercepted, by either Soundwave or whatever spy was currently inhabiting Autobot Headquarters, despite what assurances Red Alert could give them.

It might seem cynical, but if you always expected something you weren’t surprised when it happened.

“Have you found the objective?”

There was no quick witty retort, no attempt to be funny in reply. This was business. Very important business.

[Jazz]

     "Ya know Prowler, if I didn't know better, I'd think ya weren't happy'ta hear fro'me." There was a joke there, but Jazz knew that was just the way Prowl was. He was about the mission and making sure it was a success, and he was merely the volunteer pawn on the board. Sure, maybe it wasn't working out ENTIRELY the way Prowl had laid it out, but that's why adjustments were made as one went along. At  least te casual conversation meant that things were still alright in spite of how long it took for him to get back with the tactician. If there was one thing about the spec ops soldier to know, it was that if he wasn't joking or being light sparked then things were dire.

     Jazz looked around the corner, scanning it for opposition forces before giving himself the all clear and making his way down the next corridor. There really wasn't much to the ship besides the random guard here and there, and as long as they didn't stand in his way, he pretty much let them go about their business. The ones who were more intrusive? Well...

      They wouldn't be after that.

     "Na, I haven't gotten a chance to reach the..." he paused for a moment and looked up at the air vent then glanced around for something he could use to hoist himself up to it. When he didn't find anything he let out a loud vent and stepped back until he was pressed against one of the walls. "Gimme a kilk, mech. I'll be right wit'cha."

     He tucked the handle of the blaster in his denta, primed his pedes, then made his move. He ran to the opposite wall and jumped halfway there, landing with his pedes and free servo against it. Then he sprung off at an upwards angle towards the vent and grabbed it with one servo, hanging there as he scooted back to the edge and wedged his digits into the gap between the ceiling panel and the vent. Making sure he was fully braced, he swung his pedes back and forth once... twice... thrice...

     CLANK.

     He swung his pedes upwards and kicked the vent in, then pulled himself up into the air shaft. Before anyone had a chance to come and see what the noise was, the saboteur had the cover back in place and crouched silently for a moment to see if anyone came. When he figured himself to be in the clear, he removed the blaster from his mouth and resumed his audial link. 

     "Sorry 'bout that. Had'a get myself to a safer spot." Jazz turned and started to crawl pede over pede through the shaft, keeping himself quiet as he moved along. Surprisingly, the loudest thing about him was definitely his mouth. "As I was sayin'... I ain't gotten a chance ta reach the ship's console yet, but Imma try ta get what'cha need. If I can't find it, they ain't got it." 

     A T intersection had him making a left as he continued. 

[Prowl]

“You’re late checking in. We thought you might have been taken offline.”

By we, Prowl had meant the entirety of Autobot Command. But he had suspected that the saboteur was merely delayed, despite the known penchant for pulling his leg strut. Prowl sat down at his desk and began pulling up the related files for the mission on his personal display. It was imperative that Jazz figured out the next cycle of Decepticon fleet movement before the next cycle...

As Jazz went about his little parkour exercise, Prowl sat tapping his fingers on the desk while he waited for Jazz to continue speaking. While Jazz was an expert in his field, that same dedication to his craft did not seem to carry over to radio discipline. For someone from Prowl’s background, that irked him but he had learned to deal with it. Prowl was more than satisfied with the results Jazz produced.

Even if it meant putting up with his methods...

“I am sure I do not need to remind you of the consequences should you not find it. Information such as this is key to being able to win this war.”

Information was always key in these cases. The side which knew what the other side was going to do before they even did it could always win. No matter the numbers, it was all about who knew what.

[Jazz]

     "When ya say 'we', imma assumin' that ya mean everyone that ain't you- cause if you start doubting my ability to survive is the day we sit down for a serious conversation." He made his way through the vents, then paused and went silent over the comms at the sound of voices approaching. He waited for them to pass then gave it another couple of kilks before continuing.

     "No, ya don't. Trust me, I got your briefin' nailed into my processor so deep I'll probably have it replayin' even in recharge." His voice was lower, not wanting to give away his position in the vents in case someone was lingering somewhere in the halls nearby. "I hate to call this short, but right now I gotta make sure I don't get my lo-cal found out, so I can hear ya but imma need to be radio silent until I get outta this ventilation shaft or this mission of yours is gonna be a dud."

     If he got caught now then the whole current situation would be for naught. Prowl would understand the need to keep himself silent... then again, Jazz hadn't come out and right away told him that he was no longer infiltrating a dead establishment... but rather, an active, manned, and cruising-through-the-air prisoner transport. But hey, he also hadn't asked!

[Prowl]

Jazz was correct in his assumption.

Many had thought Prowl’s idea to send Jazz in alone was suicidal and reckless, arguing for a larger team. Prowl had countered saying that they needed to conduct this operation with the utmost secrecy and silence. The more involved, the greater amount of noise was generated.

And if the Decepticons knew that the Autobots knew the fleet schedule before Prowl was able to put that information to use, then they would scramble to shift the schedule around to the point that the recovered information would be next to useless except as filler for the hard drives, and a lesson in operational security.

Such an outcome was unacceptable. So Prowl’s plan had won out.

“Understood. I will cut the connection so they cannot run a trace. Contact me again when you’re ready to exfiltrate.”

With that, Prowl closed down his desk computer and cut the call connection, then stood up from his desk and walked out of the room, making sure to lock the door behind him. This next part was one of the hardest, the waiting. But Prowl knew that patience always won out in the long run in these matters. So he would wait, and prepare for the next stage of the plan. He set off down the hallway towards the hanger bay, opening a connection to the duty officer while he was on his way.

“This is Prowl, I need a shuttle prepped with a squad of commandos ready to lift off in five minutes.”

[Jazz]

There was nothing further that needed to be discussed, and while part of him wanted to cut the call right then and there ( as one with his current task on hand probably would have ), he decided to hang around and wait for Prowl to finish what he was talking. After all, if he hung up on the tactician he would probably get lip for it later. There was already enough he was needing to deal with that didn't include turn on his audial mufflers and 'blah blah blah'ing through one of Prowl's seminars.

By the time Prowl finally disconnected their communications, Jazz was already on the move again. Whoever had been passing hadn't heard anything and went about their way with little awareness that anything was amiss. The problem with it was that they'd been going in the direction Jazz had come from, so the saboteur knew he had to move quickly and quietly. It would only be a matter of time before they discovered he wasn't in his cell and put the entire transport on lockdown so they could tear it apart to find him.

There were several twists and turns through the system that he had to take. Good thing for him his bragging of having a great sense of direction was paying off or else this would have been much more difficult. Mostly he relied on his data storage capabilities and memorizations, but that was for him to know and no one else needed to. After another left turn he stopped and looked through the grids at the door to the control room. This was his stop. Prying the grate off, he set it down beside himself, then stuck his helm out to check both ways. Once clear he lowered himself out pede first then dropped to the floor into a crouch. He did another quick scan to make sure no one was in the area before he made his way across to the right side of the door and pressed his back against it.

Ventilation travel would have been ideal for this so he could have seen who was in the room before he entered, but the builders for the Decepticon fleets weren't completely stupid. There was always a chance of harmful toxins being introduced into a ship so the shafts to the main rooms were on a separate channel that were more difficult to gain access too. It'd be easy to just let someone be put in the brig who was on a kamikaze mission and let them release harmful fumes into the vents and let it make its way to the captain's quarters or, in this case, the literal brain of the ship.

Helped them that most of those builders had also used some of the same plans for Autobot ships.

Readying his weapon, he waved one servo in front of the sensor and let the door open with a soft hiss and slid inside to duck behind a panel before the doors fully opened. Glancing around from his vantage point, he could only spot one mech at the controls. While it wasn't the console he needed, he also couldn't risk someone spotting him and sending out an alert.

Slowly the saboteur made his way out from his hiding spot, keeping himself crouched and as low to the ground as possible as he made his way over, creeping up behind the mech. As he reached over to press another button on the console, he was unware of the danger that stood up right behind him from the shadow cast by his own large, bulky frame...

----------

There would be a beep on Prowl's private comm channel on the frequency only Jazz knew.

'The song is sung' came across as the preview message to let Prowl know he had found whatever he could and had already relayed the coded scripts to the tactician. The next phrase probably would have gotten him bristling with a little more annoyance than he planned.

'Deadstick'

Now if Prowl wanted to answer, that'd be up to him.

[Prowl]

As Prowl moved through the halls of the Autobot command center towards his destination, he caused many individuals that he encountered in the hall to move aside as soon as they saw him. Part of it was his rank as he did have a direct line to Optimus Prime practically whenever he wanted to use it. The ‘Last of the Primes’ considered his words carefully in councils of war, even if he didn’t follow as many of Prowl’s recommendations that he would have liked.

But Prowl always wondered if there was another reason. He knew what his reputation was around here; the cold number crunching tactician that would send you into the scrap heap without blinking. Part of it was true.

Part of it.

He reached the hanger without much incident, finding that the duty officer had managed to scramble up a pilot and a small team of about five other soldiers. Nobody that Prowl knew by face or name, but it would have to do. Once Jazz got the information it was time critical that he was extracted and brought in for debrief.

They had lifted off about five minutes later than Prowl would have preferred, but as they began to take off Prowl received a private signal. He opened his private channel to receive it, knowing there were only three people who knew it. One was dead, another one locked up. That meant only one person.

'The song is sung'

Prearranged signal that the mission was a success, and the information was in transit. But what came next caused Prowl to furrowed his brow as he tried to figure it out. Once it dawned on him what it meant, he turned to the pilot and ordered them to speed things up before he opened the comm line to Jazz again.

“What happened?!”

[Jazz]

:: Oh, ya know... just decided to try my servo at bein' a Seeker. Gotta say, it ain't goin' too well. This flyin' slag ain't for me!::

Jazz was fussing around with the controls, trying to get the ship to respond. The circuits were fried through and the console was completely shot. He hadn't expected the pilot to have half a processor to literally 'go down with the ship', and take everyone on board with him- including the saboteur. He would have to replace the entire control panel if he had any hope of getting the ship out it's drift through the hollows of space.

:: That slaggin' pilot shot out the entire flight control before I offlined him. There ain't a chance in the Pit I'm gonna be able to get this thing operational unless there's a spare front end layin'round'ere.::

It wouldn't have normally been an issue, but there was one pressing issue that Jazz was currently staring out at.

:: I uh... wouldn't normally ask for ya to rush on your missions, Prowler, but ya may wanna hurry along. Seems this transport was on its way to Grindcore, and I got a feelin' there's gonna be a lot of trouble real fast if they start hailin' me and I can't respond to their request. Or, ya know, I can and but then can't land this ship. Either way. ::

[Prowl]

Prowl was silent for a moment as he considered what Jazz had told him before eventually finding the best words to convey an appropriate reaction.

::Understood.::

He wasn’t going to question Jazz like he would have interrogated someone else. If this was the situation that Jazz was in, then it meant that Jazz had done his utmost to avoid ending up in his current situation but there was nothing he could do to prevent it turning up this way. It was a fact that Prowl was willing to accept, after all no battle plan survives first contact with the enemy. The problem was that no one put in the same amount of effort like he, Jazz, or someone like Optimus might have done.

At least, according to Prowl.

“Pilot! Increase speed! We need to move up the time table!”

There was a note of protest from the cockpit which Prowl managed to silence with a look before he was back on the line with Jazz.

::Do what you need to do to avoid capture. I am inbound with a fireteam, and I am scrambling more support.::

He quickly switched channels.

::This is Prowl to Autobot Flight Control. I need two squadrons of Aerialbots in the air now!::