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Iacon never really sleeps.
It's always something. Something that won't let anyone forget how many mechs live here. It's the many lights of signs and windows, optics and bio-lights, energon and crystals. It is the sounds of streets and hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of mechanisms of all possible shapes and sizes. It is the movement of every part, small and large, every bot, every drone, every hinge and vent.It is also the sounds of music. The gentle and harsh tones of a multitude of musical instruments, vocalizers, datapads and consoles. It's a symphony. Chaotic and overwhelming, but nonetheless serving as proof that the city is alive. That the city is alive enough to sing.The mines don't sing.The mines groan and rattle and scrape, resisting the efforts of many mechs with their saws and shovels and hammers and pistons. The mines warp the sound, over-reflecting and scattering it across the rocks like broken glass, causing their inhabitants to grimace and turn down their audials lest they become irrevocably deaf.No radio waves from the surface reach the lower floors. No signal is strong enough to penetrate the thickness of metal and stone beneath which the mining laborers of the territory are buried. The best the mechs here can count on is local, internal communications and broadcasts to watch after work in the public barracks. Whoever designed this place, they were obviously merciful enough not to cut the workers living in it off from the world...completely. Still.Jazz can tell when the elevator is approaching the lower floors. He can because the broadcast he's listening to starts to get distorted by interference and lag, and a couple kliks later it dies.He can tell because a fresh music album is replaced by the sounds of crumbling stone and squealing transportation wheels. The latter abruptly becomes unbearable when it is joined by the sharp grinding of elevator brakes.Jazz wrinkles his nose and habitually reduces the sensitivity of his audials. He doesn't like this routine, he doesn't enjoy practically deafening himself every time but he has no alternative. His horns are still picking up sound waves, sending hundreds of signals to his processor, each of which he bravely ignores. He doesn't need to know about how many rusty saws and faulty wheels have fallen on his shift today.(On second thought. Putting a mech with a high sensitivity to sound in incredibly loud shafts sounds like a pretty cruel idea.)(If you think about it.)(Jazz tries not to. He knows he won't like the outcome of this thought process. He also knows there's nothing he can do about it) The life of the average miner is very simple. You recharge. You refuel. You go drill for as long as your frame can actually handle without breaking down right here and now. Because tomorrow you'll have to get up and go drill again. Because your people need you or something.Because the waxed, polished over-the-top Sentinel Prime said it's the right thing to do.Jazz had noticed then how shiny the Sentinel's palms were. Not a spot, not a scratch, not even a slight discoloration. The hands of a mech who had never worked a day in his life. And very passionate about why he, Jazz, should work harder and try better.Nearby, someone's rusty tool squeals particularly loudly. Jazz flinches at the signals that the sound sends directly to his processor, but stubbornly continues to drill. The mech holding that tool sends him an apologetic smile. Jazz returns his understanding nod and lowers his auditory sensitivity even further. He needs to keep working. Their planet can no longer provide them with energon at their first request. They need to work hard to dig what they need out of its depths. They need to keep drilling, keep taking, keep digging, keep extracting, keep going.The mines sound like agony. _____________ The thought comes spontaneously.Jazz is actually just strolling through the barracks looking for good company for the day off that has just begun, when his gaze catches on two very specific mechs crouched in the least crowded corner.Orion looks somehow focused and distracted at the same time as he drinks his energon and seems to be listening to some sort of transmission on his internal comms. D-16 looks much less awake. He frowns, clearly trying to not fall to recharge as he sits leaning against Orion's side and tilts his head so that their audials touch. He's listening to whatever is playing in Orion's head - Jazz realizes.This scene is cute. It also gives Jazz some ideas "Sounds like it's supposed to break the rules."Red Alert, having finished listening to him, does a very predictable thing, which is to immediately question everything Jazz said. Naturally."Just because no one's ever done it before doesn't mean it's forbidden," Jazz parries.Red Alert hesitates. Then he starts brushing stone dust off his fingers for some reason. After the dust from his fingers lands on the bench he starts cleaning off the bench.Jazz lets him mess around for about twenty kliks and then carefully sits down next to him and gently places the servo on his shoulder"Listen Red, wouldn't you like to hear something other than rumbling and grinding every time you go down there?"That seems to make something in Red Alert's processor spark in the right direction, because he stops fiddling and finally looks into Jazz's optics again"Okay. I...might know how to do that.""You do?" cheers Jazz" Not myself, I don't know! I mean, not everything..." swings his servos Red Alert "but I know which mech can help you.""I was kind of hoping to convince you to help me yourself, but...wait. You mean Orion?" asks Jazz. Because yes, Orion is a wonderful kind spark and a good friend as well as adept at professionally escaping to the surface every chance he gets. But for all his positive qualities, Orion is absolutely incapable of being stealthy. Jazz can't remember a single time when Orion has done something and then left it a secret. Mech is just born to proclaim himself.Red Alert rubs the bridge of his nose"Except for Orion...okay, yeah, uh. Sorry Jazz. I don't think the risk is worth it."_______________Jazz flops down on the bench, only miraculously managing not to drop the energon he's holding, and dramatically slumps his head on the tabletop"Scrap!""You sound awful," a quiet voice informs him from somewhere to his left.Jazz doesn't even turn his head to identify the speaker. The sound travels in smooth, barely perceptible waves through his sensors and instantly registers with his processor as a pleasant, friendly presence."Hey Prowler" mutters Jazz "how's the shift going?""It's going fairly well" says Prowl."Only five mechs" says Prowl "tripped over me today."Jazz snortsProwl is clearly annoyed but doesn't raise his voice. This mech is one of the few who never made a habit of always talking in elevated volumes, instinctively trying to "out-shout" the sounds of the mines.
Jazz is grateful to him for this, though he doubts it was a conscious effort.Prowl is just . Quiet.Jazz and his sound-sensitive processor can appreciate that."I talked to Red. He refused to help me. I understand the guy is just being cautious but" Jazz lifts his head from the table intending to make some expressive movement, but ends up just grimacing and staring at the dirty stain on his plating.Prowl sips from his cube, tapping his fingers on the table thoughtfully. The rhythm is slightly uneven. His pinky hits the table half a klik faster than the rest of his fingers."What were you trying to talk him into?""I need a signal stabilizer." says Jazz. And belatedly adds, "A good one. A really good one."Prowl blinks in confusion"That doesn't sound like anything too complicated. You could ask Orion to steal one for you on his next outing, he's not likely to turn you down."No hesitation on the subject of whether or not this breaks the rules.Jazz finds it mildly amusing how easily Prowl switches to solving a problem, even if the task is dumb or illegal or all of the above."He'd definitely do it" laughs Jazz "but my problem is that the stabilizer model I need weighs more than Orion."Prowl stops short of bringing the energon to his mouth"You're trying to set up your own communications network." says Prowl.
"You're trying to set up your own communication network in the mine." says Prowl.Jazz snaps his fingers"Bingo."Prowl, for the first time in their entire conversation, changes his posture leaning closer to Jazz. Not that there's much need for that. Jazz is pretty sure he's the only one who can hear what he's saying over the noise of the fans, the sounds of chatter from behind a nearby wall, and other barracks noises."Why do you need your own network? Do you realize how much you can do with an uncontrolled communication channel?" demands ProwlJazz chuckles"When you put it like that, it sounds like I'm trying to deploy a spy net" he shuts up for a couple kliks and starts drumming his fingers on the table. The rhythm is less steady than Prowl's, but it sounds much livelier. His wrist creaks slightly at this gesture slightly messing things up."You know, now that you mention it, having my own network can really have a lot of fun uses. But the original plan was to listen to music" admits JazzProwl blinks"Music.""Yeah. Down there." smiles Jazz "All this noise is driving me crazy and I just. I don't know. Was hoping to trade it in for a couple good songs."Prowl blinks once more. Jazz appreciates his attempts to keep the conversation going"Well you know." he continues "Since I'm going to go deaf anyway, I'd rather go deaf from a good album than a rusty rig."Prowl frowns and takes another sip of his energon"It's...understandable."Jazz stands up from the table in one swift motion. His shift is about to start and he still has a few program appdates to download."Well, it's a project in development. Until I can find someone who isn't Orion to help me with it."Prowl remains seated, but straightens up slightly"What if..."Jazz who had already started to walk away stops.... "What if I helped you?" finally manages Prowl.Jazz tries not to move too abruptly so as not to scare off this new side their dialog has gone into, but from the outside he looks literally vibrating with happiness"After all" continues Prowl a little uncertainly "Orion does this all the time. How hard can it be?"--------"This" says Prowl "was a terrible idea and we're both going to die.""Your criticism" says Jazz "noted." They are both standing on a thin metal ledge sticking out from the wall of a building. A building that Jazz is sure is the warehouse where his precious signal stabilizers are to be stored.
A building that also has about thirty floors and they are nowhere near the ground floor. The wind whips Jazz's face while he wonders what will happen if his foot slips. Flying down from here is going to take...not long, but some time for sure.Iacon never sleeps, but there are certain hours of almost complete peace. A time when even the late lodging mechs have already recharging, but the earliest have not yet begun to leave their homes. Just. Barely awake with one optic open Iacon.Jazz yawns and nearly pays for it by falling off the ledgeProwl grabs him by the shoulder and yanks him up, pinning him back against the wall of the building"Are you crazy? Go ahead and recharge right here!" how does this mech manage to yell in a whisper?Jazz smiles guiltily and starts unscrewing the ventilation grate.
It's funny how almost every old building is constructed as if the mechs of the time didn't give a second thought to the existence of anyone smaller than themselves.Next to him, Prowl starts unscrewing the opposite side of the grate, wrinkling his nose at each creak.(Jazz isn't sure what creaks louder, the old screws or their own joints.)Four screws later, the grate finally detaches from the wall and almost starts to fall, but Jazz deftly catches it halfway down, then reaches out with his other hand and even quicker catches the already-falling Prowl, who apparently reached for the grate at the same time as he did.Prowl mumbles some kind of swear word to himselfJazz chuckles softly."We suck at this."Prowl very carefully starts to climb into the now unprotected vent"We suck so bad"The vent is filled with dust and something that looks like small metal shavings. Jazz really hopes that their shared noise is not as audible as he and his sensitive audials think it is. From inside the structure, with all those walls re-reflecting sound, it seems to him that the whole planet should have heard them by now.Prowl crawls over to one of the nearest grates and peeks cautiously through it into the room below.
Then frowns and continues crawling further."Wrong room?" quietly assumes Jazz"...yes.""I thought you had a map.""Just because I have a map" Prowl frowns even harder "doesn't mean I'm good at reading it."Jazz rolls his eyes, remembering to expressively reinforce the gesture with a full head movement so that even without seeing through his visor Prowl knows exactly what he's doing.Prowl pretends not to notice him and peeks through the next vent."There. I think this is it."Jazz squeezes closer to take a look too and is almost about to whistle in surprise but remembers in time that they're supposed to be stealthy."Oh wow. That's higher than I imagined."Being under the ceiling he suddenly remembers that the mechs inhabiting Iacon are actually on average twice as tall as him. And of course, the houses built for these mechs would take that into consideration.
Which leaves Jazz with a...situation. He needs to get inside the room from a hole in the ceiling that's surprisingly high above the floor. At a quick glance, there could be three Jazes standing under that grate on each other's shoulders and it's still not a sure thing they'd reach."This is going to sound bad," Jazz scratches his chin, "but I somehow imagined the rooms here would be about the same size as our barracks."Next to him Prowl drops his head on the floor of the vent with a ringing "bang". It sounds somehow kind of judgmental."Hey" resents Jazz "if you're so smart maybe you brought a rope with you!""It...didn't occur to me either that tall mechs would have high ceilings." admits Prowl to the vent floor.Jazz pats him on the back of his head a couple times, then focuses his attention on the problem. The floor is far away, falling would be painful. There's nowhere to go back for the rope, but if he can find something else to climb down....."Hey Prowler" says Jazz in the tone of a mech who isn't sure if he's invented a new kind of polish or a bomb "which one of us do you think is stronger?"So random a topic distracts Prowl from his mini self-beating session and he raises his head to stare suspiciously at Jazz"Is there a context to this question? We have an almost identical type of frame.""I know, I know, but look. If, for example, I hang from here in my arms, you can climb down on me low enough that you can jump off."Prowl is silent"Jump off without breaking the joints in your knees" belatedly decides to clarify Jazz.Prowl freezes funny, glaring at an invisible point in space right in front of him, and then says, "We need to do it the other way around. I'll hang down and you can climb off.""Why is that? You don't have that much faith in me?" wonders Jazz"You're more agile than me," snorts Prowl."Thank you!" cheers Jazz."Which is not a high bar to overcome." continues Prowl "But it still means you have less chance of slipping up...I guess."This is so dumb. It's so fucking absurd and they should probably turn back right now while they still have the chance. Jazz had seen movies a few times about mech special agents breaking into super secure places like secret government offices. They looked so damn confident and cool, doing crazy twists and maneuvers to intense instrumental music...If his show had a theme, it would be a circus music. And not even a very good one. The kind from the outskirts of Iacon, where instead of a stage there's just a very wide table. "All right," says Jazz, "let's do it your way."He may be performing standing on a table instead of a stage, but that table is his. And maybe Prowl's.It doesn't take long to get down. Partly because Jazz isn't very confident in Prowl's ability to bear their combined weight and is in a hurry. Partly also because he's perhaps showing off a bit, trying to prove that Prowl was right to call him more agile.He jumps off, deliberately taking a slightly more epic pose than would be technically reasonable. Trying a little harder to look confident and cool than he normally does, trying not to wrinkle his nose when he feels something in his legs definitely crack.(He dances proudly on his table. He keeps his back straight and his chin high and the creak of his knees sounds victorious.)"Are you okay?" inquires Prowl from above and effectively shatters his fantasy "That...sounded painful."Jazz turns, cocking his head making a wide grasping gesture"Come here."Prowl, to his credit, hesitates only a couple kliks before loosening his grip on the vent and falling not particularly gracefully into Jazz's waiting servos. This sudden exercise makes the already injured parts in Jazz's knees creak even more pitifully. His leg jerks up and they both fall to the floor in a pile."This was a terrible idea" mutters Prowl rubbing his hurt faceplate.Jazz shakes his head trying to brush the static out of the processor"Hey, you can consider us halfway done with the plan. All that's left is to go back.""Indeed" rises to his feet Prowl "All that's left is to go back, but with an extra Orion sized weight"Jazz shrugs and raises the servo "Help the mech up, eh?"Prowl pulls him up, absent-mindedly looking around the room around them. All the walls and floor are stacked with boxes and containers of various shapes, but the overall design of the labels hints that they did plop down in the right place.Jazz sways slightly, adjusting to hold his weight so that he doesn't break his legs completely, and then bursts into laughter when he notices the dusty imprint of Prowl's palm on the white paneling of his servo.Giving in to a sudden thirst for useless knowledge Jazz raises his gaze to Prowl, who's busy looking around the room and . Yeah. There it is. The crooked, dirty outline of his palm on the back of Prowl's head.Being a white painted mech definitely has its disadvantages"Are you sure you're okay?" clarifies Prowl"I am yes, no, wait let me just..." Jazz reaches somewhere between the drawers and pulls out a piece of packing wrap. "Let me just wipe this off."What a mess...It takes a while to find the device Jazz needs.It takes even longer to get his precious signal stabilizer out from under the rest of the stuff. The fact that half of these boxes are as high as Jazz's waist doesn't help the situation."And why did they have to make everything so huge?" complains Prowl barely audiblyJaz suspects the question was addressed more to the void of space than to him personally, but participates anyway"Mechs have big servos. Look, there's one button the size of half my palm haha."
Prowl wrinkles his nose."It doesn't make sense that the mechs with the big servos are them yet we're the ones who should be digging in the mines."Jazz decides that it's not necessary to develop the dialogue further this time and begins to disassemble his treasure."Are you sure this will work?"Prowl helps him disconnect the components"It should...." ... "I think."" You think or it should?" Jazz disconnects the wires."I think it should" states Prowl primly "We need to get them dirty."Jazz hovers protectively over the box with the neatly disassembled stabilizer " Don't you dare get your dust on my treasure.""You can sprinkle your own if you're feeling possessive" Prowl generously offers.Jazz hovers protectively over the box with the neatly disassembled stabilizer " Don't you dare get your dust on my treasure.""You can sprinkle your own if you're feeling possessive" Prowl generously offers.Then he takes out the most crooked and ugly container in the warehouse and, like a soulless and indifferent to beauty drone, starts putting the pretty shiny components into it. Jazz watches in mildly offended horror as some old metal shavings stick to his treasure and oh Primus, is that an energon stain on the bottom of the container there?Prowl puts the last component into the container and rubs his palms together contentedly. Jazz watches grumpily as flakes of paint from those very palms fly onto his precious electronics. Ugh, this isn't going to be shiny at all by the time they get this thing to the barracks...."Okay" says Prowl "it certainly doesn't look like anything important. In fact, I think there's a chance we could get fined for improper transportation of waste."Jazz dramatically throws up his servos in a gesture of silent despair. His treasure, his precious stabilizer looks like a box of garbage! Filth!Prowl doesn't look in his direction, but Jazz knows he's watching because he waits for the end of this pantomime before continuing" There's something else...am I forgetting something? I think I forgot something."Jazz scratches the back of his head, inwardly glad his head isn't painted white, and then snaps his fingers"Oh, I know."__________The guard standing at the entrance to the warehouse pops his head up in surprise. Around him, several couriers sent here to pick up goods are scurrying around, but those two tiny dirty mechs coming out from the depths of the warehouse...when did they manage to get inside? Was it while he was here? The one in the front is carrying a folding stepladder and looks very annoyed."I told you to hurry up! But no, your stupid aft just had to be distracted by every nonsense! The boss is going to kill us! The boss is going to kill us and it's all going to be your fault!"The one behind him only rubs his little red chevron confusedly and opens and closes his mouth wordlessly, as if he can't think of what to say in response. He pushes a cart filled with something that can only be described as...dirty junk.The mech with the stepladder walks dutifully past the guard post without even turning his head"Thank you, sorry, we won't put you on hold any longer. Let's go! I swear, if you get me in trouble, I'll make sure you never see anything but garbage again in your life!!!"The mech with the cart hunches over and quickens his step, looking so lost that the guard almost wants to go comfort him. Almost. The dirty work of low-class mechs is none of his business. And the sooner they get that garbage off his porch the better. ____________
Jazz waits until the warehouse building disappears around the corner and finally starts laughing dropping the stepladder right on his feet"Oh MECH! Ahahahahah That was good! Did you see his face? Pri~i~imus!"Prowl tries not to laugh, but Jazz can see the corners of his lips quivering."What did I tell you eeh? ~""You were right." Prowl finally allows himself a smile. "A stepladder is the key to every door.""And every processor." Jazz makes jazz hands."Maybe not every one, but close." nods Prowl.Jazz kicks the stepladder aside and stands next to Prowl taking the handle of the cart."I appreciate what you're doing Prowler.""If you're trying to apologize for our performance, you don't have to. It was a smart idea and I already told you I'm a bad actor."Jazz doesn't hold back and laughs again. He then pokes Prowl with his elbow"I meant you crawling through the vents with me.""Ah," says Prowl. " Yes, that. You're welcome."Jazz snorts and discreetly uses the handle of the cart as an extra support point to take the weight off his knees.The Iacon around them wakes up and quickly begins to fill with hundreds of sounds.Jazz hopes he can make the dark corridors of the mines sound just as good. ________________Red Alert literally radiates nervous joy when he finds them during a break."I can't believe you did that!!!?""Hey Red" laughs Jazz "I see you've already found the mysterious extra channel of communication."Red Alert rubs the energon cube in his hands and quickly looks around. A klik later, apparently finding the situation calm enough, he moves closer and takes on a conspiratorial look."Darkwing's been checking every console all morning today for malfunctions, it seems his chief suspects there's some serious sabotage going on. But none of them have figured out the password to the network yet. AnAOOUH Sorry!! I didn't...see you there. Hi...""You're the first person to trip over me today," Prowl informs him for some reason. "You're forgiven.""Yeah, we were just... talking.....uh" says Red Alert.Jazz decides to put the mech out of his misery and smiles reassuringly."Prowl, this is Red Alert. Red, this is Prowl. He helped me figure out how to get the stabilizer. And then he helped me get the stabilizer. And then to sneak it into the barracks" Jazz playfully wraps one servo around Prowl's neck and claps him on the shoulder, leaving a messy palm shaped mark on him"Prowl is a mech of many talents.""None of the above are my talents" informs Prowl"Nice to meet you" smiles awkwardly Red Alert. Then shifts his gaze to Jazz "Please. PLEASE can I have access to your network Jazz? What do you want in return?"Jazz shrugs, remembers that his servo is still on Prowl's shoulder and pulls it off quickly "Hey, just don't let Darkwing find out who it belongs to and we'll be even, yeah? And no judging of my musical choices."Red Alert glares at him with an unreadable stare for a couple kliks and then lets out a quiet "huh"."So you were serious?""Eh?" intellectually encourages the dialog Jazz."You're really not trying to pull anything crazy? All the effort... Just to listen to songs...?""Maybe something instrumental too, if I can get another memory stick somewhere to store it all." says Jazz."That's it?" demands Red Alert."I just want to listen to music!" raises his palms defensively Jazz.Red just dazedly shifts his gaze from him to Prowl and back again for a while. Then he laughs and makes a big facepalm."I can't believe it. Okay. You know what. Okay. Why not. Trust a mech named Prowl to be an accomplice to stealing a music station for a mech named Jazz. Darkwing would never have predicted this, he's too smart."
"And that's considering how fragging terrible we both are at that sort of thing" laughs Jazz."Unironically awful" adds Prowl.Red Alert seems about to ask something else but Jazz interrupts him, picking up his tools "Well, it's been nice chatting, but my break is over. Red, I'll send you the passcode. Prowler.""Be careful" says ProwlJazz snaps his fingers turning around and starting to walk awayRed Alert stares at his back for a while and then turns to Prowl wistfully."What did he promise you?"" Promise?""In exchange for help with...this whole thing" makes an uncertain gesture Red Alert "how did he even manage to talk you into it? Last time I checked, no one but Orion had Orion's suicidal tendencies""He wanted to listen to music" frowns ProwlRed Alert looks at him with the eyes of a mech, clearly waiting for some sort of completion of a thought he started.Prowl looks at the receding Jazz. Looks at the way his steps now have a not so obvious but noticeable springiness to them. There is less silent patient suffering and more of a rhythm to his movements. Prowl watches as the dark helmet bounces subtly, undoubtedly to the beat of the music."He wanted to listen to his music" Prowl repeats helplessly. Then adds in a lowered voice, "I wanted him to have it.""Sorry what?" asks Red Alert. Half a room away from them, Jazz faintly hesitates, stumbling off rhythm, but quickly regains his step and turns the music up. Even with busy audials, his horns still have a life of their own sending him lots of signals, but if he concentrates they become. Controllable.
He notices a few other mechs around him clearly listening to the same thing he does. It won't take long for the new network to become a common knowledge among the local workers, he's sure.The electrobass enters on the second verse and Jazz smiles.The mines are singing.