We are a literate, intermediate to advanced AU Transformers RPG Based off of the first season of TFP with dashes of other incarnations sprinkled here or there. Characters from any continuity are welcome however must be restyled to match the TFPrime universe.
Active, with ongoing plotlines, we are always willing to integrate new characters into storylines once incorporated into the setting.
<< Synchronicity! I was wondering about popping a question about the humans XD. >>
Music was a subject that Maximus knew little of, and had less interest in. At best, he found it a tolerable distraction at times.
But humans...
The conversation he had with Optimus the night prior came back into mind. Maximus regarded Jazz sharply. Belligerent. Kind of like us.
"Just one more question," he said. He slowly crossed his arms over his chest and straightened, his expression stony. "Then I'm good. Optimus spoke to me earlier about the humans who lent us this base. I accept that we don't exactly have the jurisdiction to enforce security within their government or any its branches, but he mentioned the possibility of there being a mole in this Agent Fowler's department who could be feeding information regarding us to a hostile organization called MECH. Is there anything else about this that you could fill me in on?"
Ah, the humans. Wasn't that the proverbial can of worms?
Jazz leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "Well, I'll admit up front that I'm one of the least experienced with the humans around here. Only been here less than two hundred cycles, myself, and most of my work's been about securing the base. Never met MECH, and only know enough to not really care to. If you want info on human interactions and culture, Bee'd be your best bet, and for the political side, Prime'd be best, and for all their dirty little secrets, Blaster's your mech."
Jazz paused. "But. For a mix of all that, bit of here, bit of there, shake it up and see what sticks...I can tell you what I think. And I think it'd be amazing if this MECH DIDN'T have a mole in the humans' military."
Jazz raised a hand, ticking off items on his fingers. "One, their missions have that military taste to 'em: calculated, organized, goal-oriented, and a Pit of a lot of agents."
Another finger. "Two, they KNOW us. They're not going after us with sticks and rocks, here. They've specifically developed weapons to disable and destroy us."
Another finger. "Three, their operation's expensive. Expensive hardware, expensive tech, expensive just to get pedes on the ground where you need 'em and keep 'em fed, possibly paid. They've got research going into our tech, and that's not cheap as the local currency goes. More expense. Maybe within the range of some billionaire with deep pockets, maybe not. Maybe they're funneling funds or tech from the military."
Another finger. "Four, you've got the question of all those agents. All of them military-trained or at the least trained by someone else who was. Some of 'em are specialized in high-tech warfare or weaponry. Is MECH training all of them from scrap? Not what I'd do. I'd lure 'em away from an organization that's already done the training for me, and the biggest heavy-hitter around is the US military."
A hand splayed in a shrug. "Five...they've been just a bit too informed, if you ask me. Show up a bit too coincidentally. Know a bit too much. Granted, we've been on this planet for years and they've been watching us and gathering intel for who knows how long...but still. It's enough to have me lookin' over my shoulder. So yeah...a MECH mole in Fowler's department is likely, I'd say."
Jazz let that sink in and nodded pointedly at the viewscreen. "Wasn't only cassettes I was worried about. MOSTLY cassettes. But not only."
Interactions and culture did not interest Maximus, and at one time he had kept politics at a wary arm's length. Jazz may have been among the Autobots least experienced with humans, but his accumulated knowledge was exactly what Maximus had been hoping to gather. A succinct run-down, intelligent and well researched and to the point.
It was also the news that he wanted to hear the least.
Bad news. Fears confirmed.
Maximus ran a hand down his face and silently gripped between his optics. It was the only outward reaction he allowed himself to make, against that ill and lingering sense of the world closing in again, of a constricting, unseen dread. When he lowered his hand and spoke again, his voice remained quiet and neutral.
"With good reason," he said. "Based on what you've just told me. But I suppose it could be argued that it's better to suspect a potential danger from within our human allies than turn our backs to them in ignorance, expecting a potential threat to our safety only to come from the Decepticons. It's something else to take into consideration, I guess."
He regarded the other mech levelly. "Thanks for giving me the lowdown on security here. I know it's not my place to pry into it, so... I appreciate the disclosure. You do good work. If there's ever anything I can do to lend assistance, just let me know."
"Don't get me wrong." Jazz leaned forward, elbows on his knees, contemplating the floor for a moment. "I like the humans. The kids, June, maybe especially Fowler. He reminds me of Ironhide. But though I trust any of THEM for no reason other than I just DO...I don't trust humans as a whole. And I don't trust the American government and its military any further than I can throw it." He held up his hands. "But! That's just me, gut feeling and all. Take it for what it's worth."
He tilted his head at Fortress Maximus, a smile spreading across his field. "And...anything? Oh, you might regret offering, given that it would be a great help to have someone take the day-to-day physical security aspects off my hands. Say...an assistant security chief? We could sure use one of those...." Jazz's grin was impish.
For a moment he did not say a word. He stood perfectly still, his posture stiff, as if rooted to the spot.
His face, however...
Through most of the conversation his expression had remained level, guarded, his red optics hooded. He had show little reaction, knowing all too well how easily a little a momentary lapse could cascade into something much worse, something you did not wish for another to see. He had already lost control once around this mech thanks to one such lapse, a staggering one, dark and maddened. It was something he did not wish to see happen again.
But this...
The big mech rocked back on his heels. He looked stunned.
"I-" said Maximus, and swallowed. The red optics flickered. After a pause to gather his composure he nodded slowly, his voice measured when he spoke. "I- would be glad to take on the job. If the position is needed, I- it's been a while since I did any physical security work. Too long. I would be glad to go back to it. I- thank you."
"Oh, no, thank YOU," Jazz said, with feeling that went all the way into his field.
It had been awhile since Jazz had been able to catch someone flat-footed like that. It was so very satisfying, watching Fortress Maximus process through...whatever it was he'd just processed through. It looked fun. AND...
"And it's very needed," Jazz said. "I mean, I AM an awesome miracleworker and all--" he waved a hand at the monitors "--but I also need to recharge. And another pair of optics on everything is never a bad thing."
Jazz stood. "I'll run it past the higher-ups, but I doubt that there'll be any objections." His lips quirked up again. "I hear you know some pretty high-ranking Autobots, after all."
<<We can wrap this here or Max can wrap? Unless there's anything else you want to do? >>