Daring Rescue
“Hey Jazz, I’ve got a request from HQ that we pick up a team from the field for them.”
Jazz frowned as he looked up from where he was seated in the crew slash cargo compartment of the small shuttle towards the pilot box. “An op’s team?”
“Didn’t sound like it.”
“Why us? What’s the situation.”
“Aside from the team being out in the field I don’t know.”
“How bigs this team?” We can’t take on more than four average mechs at best and still fly.”
A moment later Mirage answered. “Four mech team, shuttle went down with a maintenance issue. We are apparently the closest asset available at the moment.
“I’m not sure I’d call us and our craft an asset, but okay. Get their frequency and call sign. Tell HQ we’ll go take a look.” Jazz said as he moved up to the pilot box and slid into the left seat.
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Ten hics out Jazz tuned to the frequency of the downed team. “Juggler Six this is Fireball, we are ten hics out. Copy.”
“Understood.”
Jazz would have perked his ears like an organic if he’d had ears to perk. The voice that had responded was smooth and melodic to his audios. It cast his processors along paths they shouldn’t be travelling.
Thankfully Mirage brought him back to reality. “Is it hot?”
“Juggler Six this is Fireball, is it hot?”
“Yes.” Came the simple reply. And this time, Jazz and Mirage could hear explosions in the background, loud enough to register on internal comm. units.
Jazz set the shuttle into a dive through the ever present low level atmospheric haze. “Let’s go get them.”
He swore as they cleared the haze level into battle smoke and combat. Apparently HQ had located some assets because five aerials, a rare sight for Autobots indeed, were currently in a continuous cycle of fire support over a location just ahead. One would dive into the area guns blazing, then pull up and away to be immediately followed by another. Jazz realized the grounded team must be pretty important for the Autobots to have located and dispatched aerial fighters.
As they continued to drop to the target area, Jazz swore yet again. Their shuttle was small, about as small as you could get in fact, but he could tell there was no room in the area for landing. Except for the crater it had made upon impact the downed teams shuttle looked like part of the landscape. Jazz was impressed anyone had survived. And he immediately realized there was so much debris they were gonna have to winch out. “Slag it, we’re not gonna be able to land in that junk. Raj, get back there and prepare the belly lines.”
Mirage was up and moving to the back as the small shuttle began to shake with the forceful deceleration as Jazz began slowing in preparation while looking out at the pick-up point. The aerials were still shooting up the area and the grounded team was obviously close to being overrun as they told the aerials to bring their fire in even closer.
“Juggler Six, this is Fireball, you’re gonna have to swing. Confirm.”
“Confirm.” Came the calm response from the oh so smooth voice.
Jazz committed to his approach at this point and he let training and trained reflexes take over, monitoring the comm. frequencies, the shuttles instruments, the wind swirls, the aerials paths, and the incoming enemy fire. Piloting decisions were being completed even before Jazz was fully aware of them.
On short final, a mere klik from the pickup point a slug round penetrated the front screen and smacked into the wall just to the right of Jazz’s head. Jazz yelled for Mirage. “If those rigs are ready get up here and ghost me in case I get hit.”
Jazz brought the shuttle to a hover and listened as the mech on the ground guided him the last few paces as Mirage slip back into the co-pilots seat and began ghosting the controls. “Twenty mechnometers left, then 10 forward. That’s good, clear to drop.”
“Dropping ‘em.” Jazz flipped the switch and heard the four hoist rigs drop from the belly of the shuttle.
It seemed to take breems as the shuttle hovered shaking, surrounded by exploding RPG’s, aerial rockets and a steady stream of smaller rounds highlighted by the purple tracers streaming beneath the shuttle. Later Jazz would note that their entire time at hover and pick-up had been less than half a klik.
Finally, the radio crackled to life. “We’re on Fireball pull us up.” A different voice than previous, Jazz didn’t think on it, he yanked the shuttle straight up 1000 feet - and hoped that the straining vehicle held - to guarantee the dangling mechs were clear before adding forward movement to the shuttles motion and slowly climbing to 6000 feet where he directed the shuttle west towards HQ.
Finally, Jazz picked out a tiny island in a rust river and hovered down, allowing the rescued mechs to unclip and move into the cargo bay. Jazz watched from the pilot seat as Mirage met the four mechs, saluting to a black and white Praxian before leading the four back to the shuttle. Watching the four, Jazz now knew why the shuttle had strained when he had executed the rapid ascent. Two were Praxians, sure. Quite average in size even though they wore battle armor. But the other two mechs were Toughline model frontliners who sported some seriously heavy armor. Jazz was gonna have to profoundly thank the shuttles crew chief when he got back. Jazz let his concerns slide for the time though as he found his attention drawn back to Juggler Six as the mech moved towards the shuttle. Slag, but the black and white mech had a body and moves to match his voice despite his current battle damaged state. Smooth.
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They had made it back to HQ without any further issues, and been personally thanked -not just a standard military line thanked - by the black and white Praxian, for pulling them out. Now Jazz was leaning against the door frame of the shuttle watching the four rescued mechs head off across the bay in the company of three medics and two tact corps officers.
Mirage stepped up next to him. “Okay, Captain my Captain, so which one is it?”
“Hmmm?” Jazz responded without shifting his gaze.
“Mirage huffed lightly. “I know that gaze. Never seen you wear it, but I l know that gaze.
Jazz chuckled then, “Can’t slip anything by you huh?”
“No. So which one?”
Jazz nodded toward the group where they were entering the lift tube. The black and white, Juggler Six.”
“Oh course, shoulda known.” Mirage nodded to himself
Jazz turned his head. “Shoulda known what?”
Mirage smiled again, “Shoulda known you wouldn’t pick one of the ranks. Had to pick the officer. Well good luck, that’s Prowl.”
Jazz couldn’t help it. He arched an optic ridge in surprise even though Mirage couldn’t see it. “Commander Prowl? Prime’s lead tact officer? Really?”
“Yeah, I thought you knew.”
“Actually no. Didn’t realize his call was Juggler Six. Last time I was in HQ…Mmmm…been awhile. Been executing a lotta his plans recently, but never met him personally.
“Hmpf, maybe we shoulda introduced him to Meister then.” Mirage chuckled.
Jazz didn’t join in the laugh, but instead replied almost thoughtfully as he turned his gaze back to the now closed lift tube doors. “Nooo…. I don’t think that would have been the correct move.”
It was Mirages turn to arch an optic ridge. “Oookaaay.” He drug out the word as he realized Jazz might just actually be very serious about this. “And what is the correct move?”
Jazz shook himself back to reality, his cheeriness back in his voice. "Stealthy. With that one...slow and stealthy."