This is Sabotage

Gunner watches the display as his team heads into the Decepticon base. The mission is easy enough - sneak in, get some data on the new Decepticon uprisings that are taking place all over Cybertron, see how many of them are being planned, if any, maybe blow up some stuff if fate smiles on them. There shouldn't be any problems with a mission like this, not with Jazz's team on the case.

Honestly, this is a waste of talent for a team like theirs. Gunner honestly wanted to assign Sunbright's team to this mission, but Ultra Magnus insisted it be Jazz. Oh well.

Everything was going fine. Then it all went to hell in a handbasket.

Firestar immediately starts working the computer, running simulations as fast as he can. "Jazz, your team has been made. Get to safe ground, now!"

"Tell meh somethin' Ah don' know, mech!"

Gunner watches the mess unfold. Firestar is a great tactician, but this promises to be above his abilities.

((I hope this is a good start for ya!))

Before Jazz can react, two of his mechs are down. He yanks Mirage down as the mech in front of him is shot right through the spark chamber. "We gotta get outta here!"

"This way!" Mirage takes off, Jazz hot on his heels. They dart down an as-of-yet empty hall, and hang a sharp left. The hall dead ends in a conference room of sorts. They run inside and barricade themselves in. It's not much, but it should hold long enough for Firestar to give them something resembling an escape plan. Get us outta here, mech!"

"I need five minutes!" The 'Cons are outside the door, and Jazz watches the door slowly begin to turn red. Someone's got a laser. "Please, hold your positions for five minutes!"

"We don' got five minutes, mech! We've got thirty seconds, tops!"

((There! I admit to referencing your fic.))

((No worries, so was I. *laughs*))

Gunner shuts off his optics for a moment. Firestar is frantically working his simulations, and he can hear the hum of a battle computer going, but he knows Firestar's plan won't come in time. The tactician knows it, too. He simply can't think fast enough for this situation.

The door slides open, and a new mech walks in. Gunner ignores him for the moment - until he walks up to the display and punches the comm button.

"Jazz, this is Tactical Officer Prowl. Do you copy?"

"Loud 'n' clear, Prowl."

"I need you to do exactly as I tell you, and I will get you out of this alive." Prowl's optics flick across the screen for less than a second. "There's a series of vents over your head. Climb inside, and head straight forward until you run out of vent. This will place you on the other side of the 'Cons. Move fast - you'll have approximately 20 seconds before they react to take down as many as you can and move. After that you should have a clear shot to the exit."

"That's insane!" Firestar protests. "You'll get them killed!"

Insane, but it just might work. Gunner waits to see what Jazz's response will be.

When the new voice comes on over the comms, Jazz flicks a glance over at Mirage, who's listening as Prowl outlines the plan. It's insane, it'll probably get them killed, but it's doable. Mirage's optics narrow, gaze flicking to the vent in question. They'll fit. He nods.

"Got it." Jazz jerks his head at the vent, Mirage already moving to remove the grate. Jazz glances back at the door. It's holding, but not for much longer - the metal's beginning to melt. Mirage hoists himself up, and into the vent, Jazz very close on his heels. As Prowl predicted, the cons wised up to the plan, taking shots at the vent in an attempt to take them out. A few shots get through, hitting non-lethal areas.

The vent ends, and Jazz and Mirage drop out, guns already firing. Once the mechs mow their way to freedom, they head to the pre-determined safe zone. Once there, Jazz collapses onto the ground next to Mirage. He shoots the other mech a grin that's more than a little wild.

"This is Jazz. We're out. We made it out." Mirage giggles a little hysterically in the background.

"We're sending help. Hang in there, Jazz."

"Roger tha'."

Gunner hails for the retrieval team while Prowl leans back and lets out a sigh of relief. Gunner watches him with a small smile on his face. "You're not one of ours."

"No. I'll be moving on to Prime's unit soon."

"Large scale combat, I hear."

"Yes."

"I think you'd be better suited to ops." Gunner points out. Prowl's fist clenches, and Gunner smiles. "You know it, too. That's why you're here. You were trying to learn from Firestar."

Prowl can't help but snort. "Firestar is no op mech." he says dryly. Thankfully, the tactical officer is no longer in the room. "I heard there was trouble, and I came to see if I could help."

Gunner nods. "When do you leave?"

"In one hour."

Not enough time. "The team won't be back before then. I think they would like to meet the mech who saved their lives."

Prowl flashes him a weak smile. "They will live. That's what matters." With that he turns and leaves.

As Jazz and Mirage are helped toward medbay, Jazz turns to one of the comms mechs in the room. "Yo, there's a mech Ah'm lookin' for. Name's Prowl."

The mech consults his terminal. "Prowl left about thirty minutes ago, sir. He's headed to Prime's team."

"Mm." As they're being patched up, Mirage gives the mission report to Gunner as Jazz plots. Finally, he tunes into the conversation. "All right. Thank you, Mirage. I want you both to get some rest. Firestar will need to be cleared by psych - "

"No." Jazz's voice is curt.

"You don't think he'll be cleared by psych?" Gunner blinks.

"Ah'm sayin' Ah don' want that mech anywhere near mah team."

Mirage frowns at Jazz. "We need tactical Jazz. Everyone knows that. Spec ops needs a real-time tactical advantage."

"Ah know that, 'Raj. But not Firestar." Jazz looks over at Gunner, who's trying and failing to hide a grin. "Ah want Prowl."

The grin wins. "Prowl isn't one of ours."

"Well then make him one."

Gunner just grins at him. "You want me to go ask Prime if we can keep his tactician?"

"Yep." Jazz glances over at Mirage, who nods. "We both want him. Ah ain' sendin' mah mechs out there without someone capable in our ear, an' Prowl is capable. He got out outta there alive."

"Optimus will never go for it." Gunner points out.

"He will if we refuse ta go out." Jazz retorts. "An' Ah'm refusing."

"Jazz -"

Mirage just sits back and watches the bickering fight with a small grin. Gunner will get them Prowl. If he doesn't, Jazz will. That's just the way this is going to go.

Gunner and Jazz have a small staring contest. A smile's beginning to creep onto Jazz's face as the face off continues.

"Fine! It appears I have a call to make." Gunner points at Jazz. "Stay put."

"Not frellin' likely. Ah'm comin'. Jus' ta be safe." Jazz slides off the berth and shoots Mirage a grin. "Back in a bit, with a new tactical officer."

As they walk to the communications room, Gunner looks over at Jazz. "You know that this isn't going to go well at all, right?"

"As long as Prime lets us get Prowl, Ah think we'll be all right." Jazz says with a wry grin.

"We might not get him long."

"We don' hafta. We get 'im for a month or two, an' Prime won' get 'im back." Jazz shoots Gunner a sly smirk. "Ah guarantee he won' wanna leave."

Gunner rolls his optics. "You have way too much faith in your charm." he teases.

"Yeah, but it's mah charm. Ah got it."

"Whatever." They reach the communications room. "Stay out here, please. At least give diplomacy a chance to work, okay?"

"Yeah, sure." Jazz leans against the wall as Gunner steps inside and calls up Optimus Prime. Jazz shuts off his visor for a moment and reviews what he knows of their Acting Prime. Young, capable, still very naive and not very trusting of ops. Still, he's always been fair to his mechs and puts them where they belong, where they can do the most good.

So why take an ops mech and put him somewhere else? Prime doesn't run ops. It's not like he's going to a different team.

He tunes back in to the conversation. "Gunner, I hear you. But Prowl is my mech, and I won't assign him to ops so young. Ops wears on you in a way normal battles don't."

Jazz scowls. That's the flimsiest excuse he's ever heard.

Jazz kinda wishes sliding doors could slam open - make his entrance a bit more dramatic. But that's the showman in him talking. "Sorry, Gunner - but diplomacy ain' gettin' us anywhere. Look, Prime. Ah get that he's yer mech,but mah team needs him. He saved our afts. An' we ain' goin' back out there without 'im. Are we clear?"

Prime's got an impressive glare, and the weight of it settles on Jazz. Jazz just glares right back, though his focus does shift to Gunner when he hears a muffled snort.

"Fine. A trial run. You have him for two months, then he's back with my team. Clear?

Jazz's face splits into a grin. "Crystal."

The feed cuts, and Gunner finally explodes into hysterical laughter. Jazz merely watches his superior laugh with a smug grin.

"Ah told ya we'd get 'im."

Gunner finally gets control of himself. "Jazz, mech, I love working with you. Only you could get Prime himself to give up a mech that's been slated for his team since he was in the Academy."

Jazz shrugs. "See, Ah don' get that. Prowl's ops, man. He has ta be at least trainin' fer it ta be that good."

"Not according to his records."

"Slag, man. The mech is a natural."

"So are you, I'll have you know. So is basically everyone on your team."

"Which is now me, Raj, and Prowl." Jazz sighs. "Damn, that went sideways in the worst way."

Gunner shakes his helm. "It happens, Jazz. I'm just glad it did with your team. Anyone else, and you wouldn't have lived long enough for Prowl to get you out." He squeezes Jazz's shoulder. "Get some rest. We've got a pit of a lot of work ahead of us."

------/

Prowl's datapad buzzes at him. He flips it open and blinks at the new orders.

Gunner must be persistent.

"Skyfire, change directions. I'm to report back to Magnus."

"You got it, Prowl."

Prowl considers for a moment, then grins. Looks like things are working out in more ways than one.

"By get some rest ya mean go back ta medbay where Ah belong." Jazz says with a faint grin.

"Hey, I'm still head of Special ops. I have to act like it sometimes, you know."

"Ah thought that was mah job - yers was ta delegate." Jazz shoots back, ducking the swipe at his head with a laugh.

"Go back to medbay you little scrap-heap!" Gunner laughs, nudging the smaller mech towards the door.

"Ah'm goin', Ah'm goin'. D'ya need a write up of th' mission?"

"No, Mirage's account will suffice. I have to go and report in to Magnus."

"If he gives ya grief, lemme know. Ah'll straighten 'im out."

It's late by the time Prowl makes it back to Tyger Pax. The base is mostly deserted. Gunner waits for him just outside. He flashes Prowl a grin. "Glad you made it."

"It's a good thing we got the order before we landed in Iacon." Prowl says dryly. "Otherwise Optimus might not have let me come back."

"Oh, I think Jazz would have come after you if that happened." Gunner motions for Prowl to follow him. The two head into the base and to the deserted rec room. Gunner abruptly turns to face Prowl. "Look, I've gone over your files. You're an impressive officer and a damn scary tactician. That's good for what I need. However, your personal background leaves a lot to be desired."

Prowl doesn't even flinch. "My interpersonal skills are fine. It is not my fault if mechs choose to pretend that, since I don't show my emotions the same way they do, that I do not have them."

"And this doesn't bother you?"

"Should it? It's not like I'm friendless."

Gunner holds his hands up with a grin. "Didn't mean to imply otherwise. C'mon, it's late. I'll show you to your quarters."

"Ah got 'im, mech."

Prowl and Gunner look over at the entrance to the rec room, where Jazz is standing. Gunner nods, a small grin on his face. "I'll leave him to you then."

Jazz nods back, watching as Gunner gives a little wave as he leaves. He steps forward and offers Prowl a grin. "Designation Jazz. Ya saved mah life." He offers his hand. "Thank ya."

"Designation Prowl. And it was my pleasure." Prowl shakes the offered hand.

((And finally they meet! AND I HAVE TO GO TO WORK! NOOO!))

Jazz makes a follow-me motion, and Prowl falls into step beside him. "I had originally assumed that Gunner put up a fuss to get me transferred, but now I suspect that was you." he says mildly. Jazz flashes him a wicked grin.

"What c'n Ah say? Ah like havin' th' best on mah team."

Prowl can't help but smile back. "Even if that 'best' is still in training?"

"Trainin' fer somethin' ya ain' cut out fer." Jazz retorts gamely. "Ah read yer file. Gunner likes puttin' naturals on mah team. Ah know what ta do wit 'em." Prowl nods at that. Jazz pushes a door open and pokes his head inside. "Hey, Raj! We got our mech!"

"You share quarters with your teammates?" Prowl asks.

"Always." Mirage says. "Normally tac stays in their own quarters, but Jazz wanted to keep you close for a while." He reaches out his hand. "Mirage. I'm the other mech you saved." Prowl shakes his hand. It's a little intimidating, having mechs he barely knows looking at him like that, but he'll get used to it. Eventually. Prowl is a little more used to being considered a nuisance more often than not.

Jazz shoots Prowl an easy grin as he settles on one of the berths. "Yers is gonna be toward th' back, but ain't any of 'em bein' used. We had Gunner move us outta th' old quarters."

Prowl nods. "I can understand that." He eyes Mirage and Jazz, who aren't exactly fidgeting, but aren't exactly relaxed, either. "How long are the two of you on bedrest?"

"For a week." Mirage says, settling back on the berth, optics at half-power. "Magnus's orders."

"And after that, for the psych eval?"

"We won' be cleared fer active duty fer about a month, altogether." Jazz murmurs from where he's watching Prowl with barely disguised interest.

"A month?" Prowl muses, setting up on the berth. "That seems excessive."

"Yeah, well, that's Magnus fer ya." Jazz comments. "He don' do things the easy way."

"Not from what I heard." Prowl sits on the berth and fixes Jazz with a look. "If you have a question, ask it. I don't bite. Hard."

Jazz laughs. "An' if Ah ask ya to?"

Mirage raises one hand into the air. "How about you two not flirt in front of me, please."

Jazz throws his datapad at him. "Revenge fer ya an' Hound."

Mirage catches the pad and throws it back. "Fair enough."

Prowl watches them toss the datapad back and forth. "Do you often throw things at each other?" The pad hits Jazz in the side of the head when they turn to look at him. Jazz's yelp makes both Mirage and Prowl burst out laughing.

"Yes. Sometimes it's breakable tech, sometimes it's our fists. It depends." Mirage says with a grin.

"Well, let me know either way so I can duck." Prowl says dryly. The datapad flies through the air and catches Mirage in the forehead.

"Gotcha!"

"OW! That hurt!"

"Good, it was meant ta - ya laughed at meh, seemed only fair." Jazz nods resolutely, Mirage glaring at him as he rubs the new dent in his helm.

Mirage considers Prowl for a moment, then tosses him the pad. Prowl easily snatches it out of the air. Mirage shrugs. "Well, might as well join me in making Jazz miserable."

"Guess who's turn it is ta set up duty rosters?" Jazz says pointedly.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try meh."

"Do I need to remind you what happened last time?"

Prowl just leans back and smirks at the exchange. He waits until Jazz and Mirage are well and truly entrenched in their argument before taking aim and throwing the datapad. It hits the wall right in between their faces.

Jazz and Mirage simultaneously jerk back. Mirage falls completely off the berth. Jazz is hanging on by one hand. "Damn, Prowl!" he laughs.

"Not fair! Mech down!"

Jazz looks down at Mirage. "At least Ah kept mah balance."

Mirage eyes Jazz for a moment, then reaches up and hauls him off the berth. "Yeah, where'd that get you?" The question ends in a grunt as Jazz lands on top of him.

"In pain, mostly." Jazz admits, sitting up and rubbing a still fresh weld on his side. "Maybe not rough-house just yet, mech?"

"You started it."

"Ah'll finish it, too."

Prowl raises an optical ridge. "Do I need to send you both to time out?"

"Where would you put us? There's no place to call a time out corner." Mirage muses, getting to his feet and looking around the room.

"I'd put you at one end of the room, and Jazz at the other."

"Do ya really think that's gonna stop us?" Jazz asks.

Prowl shrugs. "Maybe not. But I'm sure the insults will get creative when I take away anything you can throw at each other. Provide me with some entertainment, at least."

Jazz and Mirage burst out laughing. "Oh, yeah, mech - you're staying." Mirage cackles.

"Not a whole lotta mechs c'n put up wit us." Jazz says with a grin. "Ya'd be a first! In a long time."

"You'll find it takes a lot to throw me." Prowl replies somewhat dryly. "Courtesy of growing up where I did."

Jazz leans over to Mirage. "He means mentally, right?" he whispers. "Cuz Ah'm pretty sure we could throw him."

"You would have to catch my happy ass first, Jazz." Prowl replies smartly.

Jazz tilts his head to the side as he studies Prowl. "Ah might give it a shot sometime."

"JEEZ - QUIT FLIRTING! IT'S CREEPY."

"Mech, he'd know if Ah was flirtin'." Jazz shoots Mirage a grin.

"No subtlety at all?"

"Absolutely none." Jazz says with a slight hint of pride.

"Gag me." Comes the mutter from Mirage.

"Keep it up an' Ah might." Jazz says, tossing the discarded datapad in Mirage's direction. "Give Hound a present."

"Here's to hoping we get Hound back before we lose Prowl here." Mirage comments.

"He's due back in a week, mech - Ah think it'll be okay."

At that moment, Gunner walks into the quarters. "Okay, sparklings - bedtime. Now."

"Ya ain' mah creator!" Jazz protests.

"Yes, and thank Primus for that - I might have drowned you."

Jazz theatrically gasps and places his hand over his chest. "Mah spark! Gunner, how could ya? Ah thought ya loved meh!"

"And that is the sound of love." Gunner replies dryly. "Screaming and then silence."

"I thought that was the sound of forgiveness." Mirage wonders.

"It's the sound of whatever I need it to be." Gunner retorts. "Go to bed. Before we break Prowl."

"I am not breaking!" Prowl protests. "I'm just - "

"Really damned confused?"

" - That's a word for it."

Jazz laughs. "Okay - Gunner pull up a berth, we ain' goin' ta bed fer a while, an' this is about ya anyhow." He shoots Prowl a grin. "So th' comment we were makin' about the sound of fergiveness goes back ta our first mission with him." Jazz jerks his head in Gunner's direction. "Raj an' Ah come outta the 'Con's computer room after hackin' it ta find Gunner here surrounded by dead mechs."

Mirage laughs. "So I asked if that was really necessary, and began to wonder how in the pit we were going to explain this to Magnus. Then Gunner shushes me, and goes 'do you hear that? That's the sound of forgiveness.'"

Jazz laughs. "Ta which both Raj an' Ah said, 'That's th' sound 'o mechs, dyin', Gunner!' His response was, an' Ah quote - 'Tha's what fergiveness sounds like. Screamin', then silence."

Gunner leans back and grins. "One of my better moments, I'll admit."

"So modest, mech." Jazz teases.

Prowl just stares at them for a moment. "And I thought normal mechs' inside jokes were strange."

Mirage bursts out laughing. "Oh, mech - you haven't seen the half of it yet. We have an arsenal of inside jokes that all spawn from our missions."

"I have a feeling I'll be getting introduced to all of them the hard way."

"Probably." Jazz says with a grin. "An' addin' on ta them."

"Rumor has it I don't have a sense of humor." Prowl points out with a small grin.

"Rumor mill is wrong - ya got one, it's just a mean one!" Jazz snickers.

"Yeah, he'll fit in just fine with you guys." Gunner says with a grin.

"Us, ya mean."