(Fic) Job Too Deep (1/?)
Title: Job Too Deep (1/?)
Verse: G1 AU
Rating: PG
Warnings: None for this chapter
Characters/pairing: Jazz, various OC’s who are in important in the fact that they allow the plot to move forward
Jazz leaned back in his chair, just stopping himself from putting his feet up on the table. The last time he had given into that old habit it had earned him looks of disgust from his fellow enforcers and a reprimand from the commander.
It hadn't been anything serious. The old mech was too impressed with his work to really lay the law down on him. Jazz was even sure he could have kept right on doing it and all that would keep happening was a slap on the wrist and shoo out the door back to work, but that wasn't something he was willing to risk right now. He was getting paid good money for easy work at the moment, and he wasn't talking about his Enforcer salary.
Honestly, if the Enforcers where he came from got paid half of what the ones here made for double the work the locals did the ones from home might actually get their afts in gear and do something. But then on the flip side, if they got paid half as much as Jazz was making here they might spend too much time overcharged to actually get anything done, so he supposed it all balanced in the end.
No, he was getting paid good money to hang around here, handle the 'criminals' that wouldn't survive an orn locked up with the mildest of offenders Jazz was used to, and keep an optic out. Jazz's visor went dim as he reviewed the job again, going over all the points.
Acquire a position among the Praxain Enforcers. Check. Some record manipulation, minor cosmetic alterations, a lot of charm and a healthy dose of deception had made step one a walk in the local Crystal Gardens.
Work his way into a position of trust. These guys were easy enough. He showed up, did his job, watched his partners back, and at the end of the shift went out for energon with everyone else. More application of his patented charm and Jazz was on the up and up with little effort.
Find out what the hell tool the Praxians had acquired that was giving them inside information. Several of the local crime lords were getting fed up with having their business interrupted. Shipments were getting intercepted, key mechs were getting caught and actually convicted for the crimes they were committing, storehouses were being raided, and all together it was adding up to a serious profit loss.
If it was an actual tool Jazz was either to steal it himself, or arrange things so that the lords could get their hands on it. Something this effective, if they could not settle on a use for it among themselves, would surely bring a hefty price on the black market.
If it was a mech, Jazz was supposed to figure out how he was doing it, then figure out if the mech could be bought off. If he could be bought off Jazz was to find out how much the payoff was, and then see if the mech could be persuaded to seek other employment. And the persuasion did not have to be overly diplomatic.
If he couldn't be bought off and he couldn't be persuaded he was to be eliminated. Jazz had almost balked at that. He wasn't a killer for hire, never had been. Sure, he'd spilled energon before, but most of the time it had been in justifiable self defense. The one mech whose house he'd been robbing that one time had come after him with a knife, and as for the other one, wasn't a cannon a little overkill for an intruder?
In the end he'd agreed. Jazz figured if it ended up coming down to that he would call in one of the favors owed him from mechs who didn’t mind that sort of thing. So far though he had yet to hear a peep from whatever source they were using. All he knew was that every now and then he would get sent out on a raid with frighteningly accurate information and stunning results.
Lowered voices reached him before the speakers entered the room, and Jazz settled a little further into his chair. They were talking, but not quietly enough, apparently believing themselves to be alone in the office this late in the evening.
"How long did they say Suresweep was going to be off duty?"
"At least a decaorn, possibly longer. They are going to have to install those components and make sure they integrate correctly, then they are going to have to monitor him for a while before they will clear him for active duty again."
"It can't go without a keeper that long. We'll have to find someone else."
"But who can we trust with a secret like that?"
"I don't-." the mechs rounded the corner into the room and stopped in their tracks upon spotting Jazz.
The black and white mech looked up from the datapad he was holding, visor brightening as though just noticing that they were there. "'ello. Somethin' I can do for ya?"
"No." One snapped, far too quickly. "Weren't you off shift a joor ago? What are you still doing here?"
Jazz acted as though he just noticed the time and held up the datapad by way of explanation. "Got caught up reading this and didn' notice the time. Yer right. I'll be goin'." With a friendly nod he stood, subspaced the pad, and wandered from the room, processor spinning all the while.
Whatever they had been discussing, it was obviously something they didn't want him to know about. Something that needed constant supervision, from the sound of it. Suresweep was a name Jazz recognized, and after a moment he put two and two together.
Suresweep was the name of the mech that seemed to randomly appear. Although now that he thought about it there was nothing random at all about the mechs appearance. He always appeared right before they were sent out on one of those crazy accurate raids.
Could Suresweep be the mech he was looking for?
Jazz considered that from all angles for a moment, then dismissed it with a frown. No, from what he had seen there was nothing special about the mech. And they were talking about needing a replacement for whatever job he had been doing, and they did not sound pleased about it. So whatever 'Sweeper was doing, it wasn't an assignment that either of them wanted to take over.
They had something that required a keeper.
The frown was replaced by a slow smile as the last piece clicked into place. Suresweep took care of whatever they had that was giving them information. And from the sound of it, whatever he took care of didn’t really require any special skills. Jazz knew exactly what was wrong with the mech, seeing as how Jazz had been the back up called in when Suresweep had taken a hit at the robbery gone bad. Basic, but sensitive components to be replaced.
Next step in his assignment- take over Suresweeps job.
Verse: G1 AU
Rating: PG
Warnings: None for this chapter
Characters/pairing: Jazz, various OC’s who are in important in the fact that they allow the plot to move forward
Jazz leaned back in his chair, just stopping himself from putting his feet up on the table. The last time he had given into that old habit it had earned him looks of disgust from his fellow enforcers and a reprimand from the commander.
It hadn't been anything serious. The old mech was too impressed with his work to really lay the law down on him. Jazz was even sure he could have kept right on doing it and all that would keep happening was a slap on the wrist and shoo out the door back to work, but that wasn't something he was willing to risk right now. He was getting paid good money for easy work at the moment, and he wasn't talking about his Enforcer salary.
Honestly, if the Enforcers where he came from got paid half of what the ones here made for double the work the locals did the ones from home might actually get their afts in gear and do something. But then on the flip side, if they got paid half as much as Jazz was making here they might spend too much time overcharged to actually get anything done, so he supposed it all balanced in the end.
No, he was getting paid good money to hang around here, handle the 'criminals' that wouldn't survive an orn locked up with the mildest of offenders Jazz was used to, and keep an optic out. Jazz's visor went dim as he reviewed the job again, going over all the points.
Acquire a position among the Praxain Enforcers. Check. Some record manipulation, minor cosmetic alterations, a lot of charm and a healthy dose of deception had made step one a walk in the local Crystal Gardens.
Work his way into a position of trust. These guys were easy enough. He showed up, did his job, watched his partners back, and at the end of the shift went out for energon with everyone else. More application of his patented charm and Jazz was on the up and up with little effort.
Find out what the hell tool the Praxians had acquired that was giving them inside information. Several of the local crime lords were getting fed up with having their business interrupted. Shipments were getting intercepted, key mechs were getting caught and actually convicted for the crimes they were committing, storehouses were being raided, and all together it was adding up to a serious profit loss.
If it was an actual tool Jazz was either to steal it himself, or arrange things so that the lords could get their hands on it. Something this effective, if they could not settle on a use for it among themselves, would surely bring a hefty price on the black market.
If it was a mech, Jazz was supposed to figure out how he was doing it, then figure out if the mech could be bought off. If he could be bought off Jazz was to find out how much the payoff was, and then see if the mech could be persuaded to seek other employment. And the persuasion did not have to be overly diplomatic.
If he couldn't be bought off and he couldn't be persuaded he was to be eliminated. Jazz had almost balked at that. He wasn't a killer for hire, never had been. Sure, he'd spilled energon before, but most of the time it had been in justifiable self defense. The one mech whose house he'd been robbing that one time had come after him with a knife, and as for the other one, wasn't a cannon a little overkill for an intruder?
In the end he'd agreed. Jazz figured if it ended up coming down to that he would call in one of the favors owed him from mechs who didn’t mind that sort of thing. So far though he had yet to hear a peep from whatever source they were using. All he knew was that every now and then he would get sent out on a raid with frighteningly accurate information and stunning results.
Lowered voices reached him before the speakers entered the room, and Jazz settled a little further into his chair. They were talking, but not quietly enough, apparently believing themselves to be alone in the office this late in the evening.
"How long did they say Suresweep was going to be off duty?"
"At least a decaorn, possibly longer. They are going to have to install those components and make sure they integrate correctly, then they are going to have to monitor him for a while before they will clear him for active duty again."
"It can't go without a keeper that long. We'll have to find someone else."
"But who can we trust with a secret like that?"
"I don't-." the mechs rounded the corner into the room and stopped in their tracks upon spotting Jazz.
The black and white mech looked up from the datapad he was holding, visor brightening as though just noticing that they were there. "'ello. Somethin' I can do for ya?"
"No." One snapped, far too quickly. "Weren't you off shift a joor ago? What are you still doing here?"
Jazz acted as though he just noticed the time and held up the datapad by way of explanation. "Got caught up reading this and didn' notice the time. Yer right. I'll be goin'." With a friendly nod he stood, subspaced the pad, and wandered from the room, processor spinning all the while.
Whatever they had been discussing, it was obviously something they didn't want him to know about. Something that needed constant supervision, from the sound of it. Suresweep was a name Jazz recognized, and after a moment he put two and two together.
Suresweep was the name of the mech that seemed to randomly appear. Although now that he thought about it there was nothing random at all about the mechs appearance. He always appeared right before they were sent out on one of those crazy accurate raids.
Could Suresweep be the mech he was looking for?
Jazz considered that from all angles for a moment, then dismissed it with a frown. No, from what he had seen there was nothing special about the mech. And they were talking about needing a replacement for whatever job he had been doing, and they did not sound pleased about it. So whatever 'Sweeper was doing, it wasn't an assignment that either of them wanted to take over.
They had something that required a keeper.
The frown was replaced by a slow smile as the last piece clicked into place. Suresweep took care of whatever they had that was giving them information. And from the sound of it, whatever he took care of didn’t really require any special skills. Jazz knew exactly what was wrong with the mech, seeing as how Jazz had been the back up called in when Suresweep had taken a hit at the robbery gone bad. Basic, but sensitive components to be replaced.
Next step in his assignment- take over Suresweeps job.