Kick in the Head - Suspension
Title: Kick in the Head - Suspension
Fandom: Transformers
Characters/pairings: Optimus Prime, Jazz
Rating: PG
Summary: Everyone has a price. Jazz just so happened to discover his.
Warnings: n/a
Notes: This is based off the comic Saga of the Allspark #3; Lost in Space Part 4. Or, that one issue where Jazz finds the information super-highway.
Table of Contents
o o o
He walked in at perfect attention, executing a precise bow with no hint of the injuries he had sustained. "Reporting as ordered, my Prime," he said, only the faintest tone of a smile in his voice.
"Jazz," Optimus Prime said quietly, sitting back in his seat. "It is good to see you whole and alive."
"It's good to be alive," Jazz agreed. "There was a while there when I didn't think I'd ever be back here."
"Hm." The Prime's gaze was calm, unreadable even to a mech who prided himself on his empathy. Jazz felt a little trickle of worry. "Tell me about what happened."
Cold. Optimus Prime had never been one for hysterical outbursts, but Jazz had expected a little warmer welcome than this. The trickle of worry grew. "The planet was alive," he said simply, sliding neatly back into formality. "It caught me and tried to devour me from the inside out, draining away all of my thoughts and memories."
"It caught you," Optimus repeated, folding his hands in front of his face. "How?"
This felt like more of a cross-examination than a debrief. Worry turned to unease. "I found a new feature and was caught when I examined it," Jazz stated.
"You never could resist something new, could you?" Optimus asked softly, and it sounded like an accusation.
Jazz's optics narrowed behind his visor. "And just what are you implying?" he demanded, formality be damned.
"Ratchet passed along some interesting information," Optimus said coolly. "Things you said while he was repairing you. Specifically, that you had decided to never leave that planet, before you were caught. That you had discovered an information flow about a hundred-thousand worlds, and had planned on never leaving. That so much of your system resources had been allocated to information storage that your core programming was severely endangered. That the only reason you were not immediately charged with desertion upon your arrival was because you left the planet willingly, and even now I am wondering why I should not charge you anyway!
So much for a medic's vow of confidentiality. He and Ratchet would have to have words over this. "And here I was," Jazz said angrily. "Under the impression that anything said to a medic was unfit for testimony in a trial."
"It's not every orn," Optimus replied heatedly. "That my second-in-command decides that the war he personally asked me to fight in, was no longer worth it!" He leaned forward, angry and, and hurt. Betrayed. "I have trusted you," Optimus continued, forced calm in his words. "Despite all of your detractors, despite every mech who tried to talk me out of letting 'that damned mercenary' even join the Autobots, let alone take over Spec Ops after Digger's death. I have asked you to be my second, my lieutenant, and now I hear that they may have been right? That my trust was misplaced?"
A scolding by his conscience was a rare thing for Jazz, but not unheard of, and he was silent for a long moment, composing his thoughts. "Every mech has a price," he said finally. "Once, my prices were low; credits, and a bit of infamy. They've gone up, but they're still there. Yes, I would have stayed, had I not been attacked. I would have stayed and learned until my processor melted. And I am not ashamed to admit that. The only difference between me and everyone else, is that now my price is known."
"I think you would find you are wrong in that," Optimus said coldly. "Not all mechs can be bought."
"No?" Jazz asked, soft and derisive. "I think you're a liar. I think that, if one of the Nameless ones were to appear before you, and offer you both Elita and Megatron as they were before, except without that nasty little problem of Megatron hating her circuits, if you only abandoned the Autobots and the war-"
"Enough!" At the outburst, Jazz went silent, again at perfect attention. Optimus sat back in his seat again, anger practically humming beneath his armor. "You push your bounds, Jazz," he said tightly. "But I am willing to assume you are still recovering from your near-deactivation, only because I have not had cause to question your loyalties before this. You will undergo observation, both medical and administrative. However, we cannot delay our search for the Allspark. In your absence, I assigned Blaster as commander of the Covenant. He will retain the spot."
"What?" Jazz's visor snapped up in true shock, his emotions clearly visible in his face for the first time since he'd entered the Prime's office. "Prime, Blaster's a good mech, but-"
"Blaster has proven himself able since you left," Optimus said firmly. His voice dropped as he continued. "And he has never given me reason to doubt him. You will be assigned to the Ark, with myself and Ratchet. Dismissed."
"But-"
"Dismissed, Jazz."
Jazz's hand briefly clenched into a fist, before his visor snapped back down. He executed a stiff bow and left the office.
Fandom: Transformers
Characters/pairings: Optimus Prime, Jazz
Rating: PG
Summary: Everyone has a price. Jazz just so happened to discover his.
Warnings: n/a
Notes: This is based off the comic Saga of the Allspark #3; Lost in Space Part 4. Or, that one issue where Jazz finds the information super-highway.
Table of Contents
o o o
He walked in at perfect attention, executing a precise bow with no hint of the injuries he had sustained. "Reporting as ordered, my Prime," he said, only the faintest tone of a smile in his voice.
"Jazz," Optimus Prime said quietly, sitting back in his seat. "It is good to see you whole and alive."
"It's good to be alive," Jazz agreed. "There was a while there when I didn't think I'd ever be back here."
"Hm." The Prime's gaze was calm, unreadable even to a mech who prided himself on his empathy. Jazz felt a little trickle of worry. "Tell me about what happened."
Cold. Optimus Prime had never been one for hysterical outbursts, but Jazz had expected a little warmer welcome than this. The trickle of worry grew. "The planet was alive," he said simply, sliding neatly back into formality. "It caught me and tried to devour me from the inside out, draining away all of my thoughts and memories."
"It caught you," Optimus repeated, folding his hands in front of his face. "How?"
This felt like more of a cross-examination than a debrief. Worry turned to unease. "I found a new feature and was caught when I examined it," Jazz stated.
"You never could resist something new, could you?" Optimus asked softly, and it sounded like an accusation.
Jazz's optics narrowed behind his visor. "And just what are you implying?" he demanded, formality be damned.
"Ratchet passed along some interesting information," Optimus said coolly. "Things you said while he was repairing you. Specifically, that you had decided to never leave that planet, before you were caught. That you had discovered an information flow about a hundred-thousand worlds, and had planned on never leaving. That so much of your system resources had been allocated to information storage that your core programming was severely endangered. That the only reason you were not immediately charged with desertion upon your arrival was because you left the planet willingly, and even now I am wondering why I should not charge you anyway!
So much for a medic's vow of confidentiality. He and Ratchet would have to have words over this. "And here I was," Jazz said angrily. "Under the impression that anything said to a medic was unfit for testimony in a trial."
"It's not every orn," Optimus replied heatedly. "That my second-in-command decides that the war he personally asked me to fight in, was no longer worth it!" He leaned forward, angry and, and hurt. Betrayed. "I have trusted you," Optimus continued, forced calm in his words. "Despite all of your detractors, despite every mech who tried to talk me out of letting 'that damned mercenary' even join the Autobots, let alone take over Spec Ops after Digger's death. I have asked you to be my second, my lieutenant, and now I hear that they may have been right? That my trust was misplaced?"
A scolding by his conscience was a rare thing for Jazz, but not unheard of, and he was silent for a long moment, composing his thoughts. "Every mech has a price," he said finally. "Once, my prices were low; credits, and a bit of infamy. They've gone up, but they're still there. Yes, I would have stayed, had I not been attacked. I would have stayed and learned until my processor melted. And I am not ashamed to admit that. The only difference between me and everyone else, is that now my price is known."
"I think you would find you are wrong in that," Optimus said coldly. "Not all mechs can be bought."
"No?" Jazz asked, soft and derisive. "I think you're a liar. I think that, if one of the Nameless ones were to appear before you, and offer you both Elita and Megatron as they were before, except without that nasty little problem of Megatron hating her circuits, if you only abandoned the Autobots and the war-"
"Enough!" At the outburst, Jazz went silent, again at perfect attention. Optimus sat back in his seat again, anger practically humming beneath his armor. "You push your bounds, Jazz," he said tightly. "But I am willing to assume you are still recovering from your near-deactivation, only because I have not had cause to question your loyalties before this. You will undergo observation, both medical and administrative. However, we cannot delay our search for the Allspark. In your absence, I assigned Blaster as commander of the Covenant. He will retain the spot."
"What?" Jazz's visor snapped up in true shock, his emotions clearly visible in his face for the first time since he'd entered the Prime's office. "Prime, Blaster's a good mech, but-"
"Blaster has proven himself able since you left," Optimus said firmly. His voice dropped as he continued. "And he has never given me reason to doubt him. You will be assigned to the Ark, with myself and Ratchet. Dismissed."
"But-"
"Dismissed, Jazz."
Jazz's hand briefly clenched into a fist, before his visor snapped back down. He executed a stiff bow and left the office.