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littlelightbolt · 3 months ago

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Finding Prowl - Chapter 6: To kill a Mockingbird

Jazz's first steps was to do a perimeter check around the island he was duty bound too that served as one of five entry ways down to Cybertron. Internally, he cursed. With 5 cycles down the drain, any biological traces of Prowl's whereabouts were all but gone with the currents. Despite the odds, it didn't take long for him to find his first clue.

Just 10 miles off the coast, there were bodies in the water. Dead Humans, five in total bloated with varying degrees of decay all submerged around a large pool of oil. If the smell didn't indicate that the event had happened quite a while ago, the flock of seagulls living and dead trapped in the oily black said it all.

All that filth in the water. Disgusting.

Feeling lucky, Jazz dived. Mabye he should turn that luck into misfortune. What Jazz found only concerned him more. There was a sunken dinghy sitting wedged between two large rocks. A large gash opened the left air sac, the decisive cause of the sinking. Jazz reached to flip the boat over, and uncovered the damning logo engraved into the nylon: MECH.

A growl escaped his throat. Frag, Jazz’s fears only grew. Prowl was in more danger than he thought.

MECH was a known mer-hunting organisation responsible for kidnapping many of their kind. They were a thorn in the Autobot's and less so the Decepticon's side. Both factions have only been made aware of MECH's presence 5 years ago, before that the organisation having only been targeting neutral pods who had no real connection to the two major factions. This meant that both factions had been late to the party. Only learning about any kidnapping occurrences through the traumatic tales of Nails seeking aid and recovery.

The Autobots were quickly set on the case, with Prowl having worked with the search and rescue teams before he was kicked from his seat behind Bumblebee. It was also how the island guard that Jazz had joined was set up. But even when he was around, most cases had been slow in progress, the events having been too long ago to trace back too. For now it seemed, once caught no one had really had any progress in finding their kin again.

Until Jazz!

The boat was relatively intact and just his luck! the dinghy was registered! Jazz had his lead. Taking the registry plate off of the wreck, Jazz made swift work of getting back to shore. He hacked Red Alert's comm in the process.

‘Ay Red my mech, got a situation ya might wanna know bout.’

‘JAZZ, fragging pit. HOW DID YOU GET MY COMM. I SWEAR to Primus, when I see you….’

‘Chill mech, this was bad, MECH has managed to come so close to one of our groundbridges. Da pacific one. It’s a miracle the humans had missed the site completely.’

The comm was silent, Jazz could just imagine the sparks coming off of that mech's helm.

Jazz hesitated a moment before adding on, 'MECH has Prowl.' This time a fizzle came through the comm.

Needing to snap Red out of it, Jazz pushed on. 'RED I need ya with meh mech! I need ya ta check the proximity alarms around the island, why had none of 'em raised da alarm.' Those alarms were designed to hone in on the biological signatures unique to only humans 500 miles offshore. Them not working was a HUGE issue. No one had known of the MECH's presence.

All except Prowl, and it seemed he paid the price. Jazz bristled at the thought.

'A weak 'On it.' was heared through the comm. It seemed that Red was still with the him.

Shaking the residue water off his frame as he reached the shoreline, Jazz gave Red his second task, 'I also need ya ta run this plate for me, on the human's boat registry system.' He sent the snapshot of the plate he took over the commline. 'Received' was all Red Alert replied. All there was left to do was await a response.

The trek to the groundbrigde was but a quick 5 minute hike up a steep cliff. The machine itself disguised as a old tree. Jazz placed his hand onto the thick bark of the plant, a flash of spark energy later, the bark began splitting open to reveal the relatively small portal. Jazz stepped through, entering into Cybertron's Pacific transport hub built 5000 meters under the island. As the portal sealed shut behind him, Jazz navigated the relatively crowded hub towards a Bay B. His private (long stolen) shuttle awaited.

Jazz stopped just short of entering the vehicle. Though the docking bay itself was empty, the air around the entrance was warm. Someone was HERE. A shift in airflow. There! Without hesitation, Jazz whipped out his blade, feeling the sensation of pinning someone into the wall of his ship.

Jazz smiled big. 'Now, I would love ta stay and have a good ole fashion brawl but I'm in a bit of a rush ta get somewhere, so I suggest yall scram before I decide to kill y'all.', he threatened, field bristled and harsh with murderous intent. Spanning out his field, he brushed across five different ones, each with different amounts of anxiousness and suppressed fear in them. It didn't take a genius to figure who had crashed Jazz's party.

A snarky voice rang out of thin air, 'Whoa, whoa, whoa! Who said anything about fighting?' Various voices rose up with mumurs of placating agreements as the once empty looking docking bay shimmered with distorted light, revealing five green and purple octopus mers cramped into his hanger bay. The Constructicons were standing shoulder to shoulder within the cramped space. Jazz had Scavenger held at knifepoint, the edge of the blade placed threateningly close to the mers throat cables. Scavenger had his servos raised in surrender. The group were stuck frozen in place, a level of fear teeking into their fields. Jazz smirked, GOOD, they should fear him, after all the harm they done to Prowl.

'What's ya lot of drunk slagtards doing in my ship? Ain't yall got some building to demolish somewhere?', Jazz spoke, hints of annoyance sinking through. He had better things to do than corral drunk mers off to the medbay.

Hook never the one to take insults lying down was first to speak up, 'HEY, we ain't drunk! We only had 3 cubes at Maccadams last night cycle.' Scavenger and Long haul nodded along. Bonecrusher seemed to have other ideas though, field revved with jittery energy, he glowered at Jazz. 'Well what's it to you short stuff? Let Scavenger go! We found this ship fair and square. If it's a fight you want, it's a fight y'all get.' Jazz smile turned strained, steeling himself for a fight he flexed the knife into scavenger throat cables, said mer squirmed. A drop of energon was forming. Bonecrusher's scowl deepened and flexed his fists, he was about to step towards Jazz with dumb violent intent, Hook, Scavenger and Long haul all telling him to stop when suddenly Mixmaster who had been quiet the entire time put out his arm to stop Bonecrusher's advance. The other three mers held their breath.

Behind his visor, Jazz raised a brow. Bonecrusher whipped back at Mixmaster in disbelieved anger, 'What the frag mech?! Let me at em!' Mixmaster only stared at Bonecrusher more intently. Jazz silently wondered if the mer was high on circuit boosters, the mer was leveling Bonecrusher the heaviest of poker faces. It was very un-Mixmaster like. Bonecrusher shouted out in disbelief looking between Jazz and Mixmaster, 'What do you mean he can help us?'

Ah, Jazz released the breathe he was holding, so bond-speak was in play. Mixmaster only gave his brethren a slight nod before facing Jazz again. He spoke with a clarify that shooked Jazz. 'We apologise. We didn't know this ship was yours, none of the ship vendors were willing to rent a shuttle to ex- decepticons. We are simply trying to find Prowl.' The other Constructicons looked at him as if Mixmaster had grown a second helm but nodded along to his statement.

All the anxiety he lost came back to Jazz. 'What makes ya think Prowl is in danger, let alone if he would want to be found by the likes of ya?', Jazz grounded out. The Constructicons spelt trouble, they also knew that Prowl was missing when even Prowl's Autobot brethren were in the dark about it. Why were they seeking Prowl out? Too hurt him? Drag him back into their fold back to the decepticons? The image of Prowl injured that night came back to him.

Mixmaster only moved to put his servo on his spark casing. 'When we first formed Devastator with Prowl, his spark merged with ours. While still small, he formed a bond with us.' Mixmaster paused. 'We felt his pain five cycles ago, but he wouldn't allow us to do anything to help him.' His gaze turned somber. 'The bond weakens with distance. We know he has been taken. Now, all we can feel is that he is alive somewhere in the vast.' Mixmaster turned to eye Jazz's knife hand.

'We know that he went to you that night. That he hates us. That he doesn't want anything to do with us.' Mixmaster reached out to gentle grip Jazz's knife hand. Scavenger let out the tiniest meep as the pressure was relieved from his vital systems.

Mer's got some ball bearing on 'em, Jazz thought growing steadily unsure of the Constructicon's no Mixmaster's motives.

Mixmaster's gaze became smouldering. 'But I think you and I both know that Prowl needs help. Gestalt is gestalt, we stick together no matter what. You're going to find Prowl am I right? I propose a truce. You might have a lead we don't, and we might have a link you need.' Jazz's smile was gone, replaced with a deep frown. The air was thick then with anticipation, the Constructicons silent looked to Jazz awaiting his response.

Jazz's mind was racing with possibilities. It would definitely help to have a living beacon and extra manpower. But, he wasn't so naive to think they didn't have other reasons to seek out Prowl. Jazz couldn't risk it. Not with this. Just as he was about to deny their help, his comm broke the tense silence. Jazz put two digits to his helm to answer it. Red Alert's voice welcomed him on the other side, 'Jazz I've found MECH's flagship. Designation: The Whispering Ghost. I've tracked their movements from the last several days. Last known dock was in Southampton the United kingdom 4 cycles ago at 03:57 BST. They are currently on course back to the Atlantic.' Red Alert voiced quieted with concern. 'Judging by their trajectory, they heading straight for our waters.' 'Our island.'

Jazz could here the sparks fizzle, 'THIS IS BAD! I think we're compromised Jazz we have to tell Optimus!' Red Alert said. Jazz had come to the same conclusion. His gaze turned resolutely towards the mers that gave him so much grief.

Looks like these fraggers might be of some use to him after all. 'Do it,' Jazz said. Jazz lowered the his knife from Scavengers throat, flicking the energon off in disgust before subspacing it. Jazz then stormed pass the Constructicons further into the ship raising his servo to motion them to follow. Scavenger squeaked out a sign of relief, nearly tripping over himself running to Hook to have his throat looked at. Mixmaster was smiling like the cat that got the cream. It irked Jazz, he curtly replied into his comms, 'Tell OP ta start prepping for a potential groundbridge breach.'

He reached the cockpit and began fiddling with the controls prepping the vessel for take off. As the ship was slowly onlining for their flight, outside in the bay hanger a portal was opening, leading straight to the open sky above their island. Jazz addressed Red through the comm, 'Y'all need ta assign a new guard for this site.'

'What?! Why? Where are you going?', Red Alert asked.

'To kill a Mockingbird,' was Jazz smooth reply. Confused mumbles turned to dissuading shouts from Red's end of the line. Jazz got comfy in his seat, checking through his peripheral to see if the slaggers he brought on board were settling yet.

Scavenger's neck was patched, with him seated next to Hook in the ship's narrow hanger. Long Haul and Bonecrusher must be elsewhere on the ship. Hopefully those slaggers ain't messing with his energon stores. Mixmaster being the biggest of the gang didn't quite fit into a seat and had chosen to sit on the floor of the ship.

Mixmaster's optics never left Jazz's.

'I have to bring him home Red', Jazz said. Breaking optics contact to focus on steering the ship. Engine primed, he raised the ship to a hover aligning it with the growing portal. A clear view of the sky thought it.

It was a red dawn, the faintest light of day arriving to their hemisphere.

It reminded him of a certain red Chevron in the morning light. 'If I don't make it back in an orn's time, lock down the island. Ya copy Red?'

'Crystal, may Primus light your path Jazz.' Red replied. Quietly, he added, 'Bring him home alive.'

'Ya know me Red, I always will. Over and Out.'

'Over and Out.', the line clicked shut signalling the end of the call. Jazz steered the ship forward through and out of the portal, charting a course for the United kingdom.

Once at a high enough altitude, Jazz turned the cloaking device on and set the ship to Autopilot. Some point during the climb, all the constructicons had gathered once again into the small hanger bay. Jazz smile curled in annoyance. There was a cube in Bonecrushers servo.

Itchy servos that one had.

Addressing them all, Jazz said. 'I'm gon be honest, I don 't even trust yall as far as I can throw ya. But, for Prowl's sake I'll accept ya Lil truce but we gon be playing things my way.'

Hook opened his intake to retort, as Jazz showed off his fangs. He quickly adding, 'Careful, one wrong move and I'll end ya sorry afts.' Hook closed his intake

Jazz's visor flashed with manic glee, 'Now, onto more exciting plans. First agenda on the Finding Prowl objective. What da y'all say ta some good ole revenge on MECH?' reaching out his hand in a beginnings of a handshake.

The Constructicons didn't even hesitate, smiles going deviously wide and fields revved with malice. Mixmaster rose and clasped hands with Jazz, mirth and malice intoxicatingly entwined.

'We think it would be a devastatingly good time.'

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Yay! You have found: the Constructicons!

Hopefully Jazz doesn't rip em a new one.

Next chapter will focus more on Prowl and Blue.

I also realised I haven't disclosed Jazz's Alt mode yet. Would anyone like to guess what it is?

#transformers #prowl #jazz #bluestreak #merformers au #baby au #baby bluestreak #constructicons #Hook #Mixmaster #Bonecrusher #Long haul #Scavenger #merformers #Finding Prowl #Red Alert #maccadam

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iconac · 2 years ago

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If Revan had the chance to decide on/design their own burial site, what would they choose? What kind of funeral would they wish to have?

revan has given a lot of thought about how they will die. death and sacrifice are two concepts that often go hand-in-hand with jedi. for all their talk of peace and harmony, jedi seem to die more often than they pass away, and that is not a truth any are ever taught to shy away from. [ death is such a small impediment. ] revan at a young age came to idealize their eventual death as something full of sacrifice, laying down their life so others might live, but deep in their bones they have always suspected their death would be at another's hand.

revan has not given a lot of thought about what comes after. to their body, at least. in this they once again eerily mirror the mandalorian culture; their body is a vessel, nothing more. when they die, it will be left behind. meat and bone and sinew, doing what all organic matter does; breaking down. for a long time, if pressed on the issue, they imagined themselves cremated like many of the order; their ashes interred with those who came before, leaving space for those who will follow. during the war they imagined being lost, buried under rubble so deep none could retrieve their body, or scattered across eight parsecs in billions of atomized pieces. [ they had joked with malak about it on more than one occasion, each promising the other a statue and memorial service that only got increasingly ostentatious and tacky with every iteration of the conversation. ] and when things changed, when the future became not something to be saved but something to be built with their own bloody hands, they stopped caring. what happened after they died, they surmised, was entirely up to the one who managed to kill them and inherit their legacy. [ because the lesson they teach must last beyond their death, their purpose must echo down the generations like a curse. they may die but they will leave a scar behind that will take millennia to heal. pain is a teacher, after all. ]

[ they do not imagine being mourned. ]

[ they do not imagine being forgotten, either. ]

if revan could choose, they imagine themself buried in the seas of their homeworld. cast deep into the abyss and slowly devoured, a small oasis for an ecosystem surviving on the barren ocean floor. giving life in darkness, one last time. but they do not imagine themself being able to choose.

#local maine lobsterman hauls up sith artifacts in lobster cage #revan would emotionally like a small ceremony for friends #but they figure they'll die horribly and that'll be that #what matters isn't them as a person it's what they were trying to do #their feelings don't matter!#as long as their ideas live on there's no need for a funeral #they are a vessel. a mouthpiece. a mask.#flesh and bone to be left behind to rot #yes revan is incredibly arrogant yes revan places little value on themself they're all about duality baby #anyway thnaks for this i was tempted to just make an arg joke #INCOMING.#↘ ]⠀canon.⠀:⠀born of the clatter of bone against blade.

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