A/N: Ok sorry for the delay folks but it's been a busy weekend, involving corrupted files and poor injured stray kitties
Ricochet is actually a Shattered Glass canon character I was introduced to him via his TF Wiki and I wanted him in my story. He is Jazz's twin and one of Prime's bodyguard's.
****
SG Cybertron
Ricochet gave a terse nod to the large black form of Ironhide as they crossed in the hallway. It was change of shift for Prime's bodyguards and both mechs worked on a rota, one covering the other when necessary and both being at Prime's beck and call at all times. The only exception to this was Jazz.
Ricochet glowered at the thought of his twin. He'd been sent off world to the disgusting organic planet, along with Prime's SIC Prowl. Now Ricochet had learned through the proverbial grape vine that Prowl had returned with some rather unique prisoners, leaving his brother in charge of their base on Earth.
He scoffed at the thought of Jazz commanding anything. Always so desperate to be accepted by the mechs he served with, he'd never be a true leader. Ricochet leant his red, white and black frame against the door frame of Prime's private quarters, folding his arms across his chest he sighed. His time would come, despite what other mechs thought of him, Ricochet possessed an infinite patience for the things he really wanted. His time was coming.
He canted his head to one side, hearing familiar voices coming from inside Prime's room; suddenly his attention was caught by the sound of scraping metal and a dull thud. Straightening he leaned closer to the door, his fingers twitching on his weapon. Another dull thud resounded faintly through the reinforced steel walls, followed by Prime's rumbling vocals.
Ricochet relaxed, it wasn't unusual for Prime to have company or to be losing his temper while speaking to a subordinate over comm. He secretly hoped that the subordinate facing Prime's wrath would be Jazz, it would do the mech good to be knocked down a few pegs.
Guard duty was tedious at best. Prime had a great deal of enemies but none that would have the ability or the spark to challenge him in his own base, surrounded by his own mechs. Ricochet settled in for a long shift, when a sudden shriek pierced his audio. Shooting up he turned to face the solid door. The shriek had come from Prime's room, it was the sound of a mech in pain. He hastened forward, weapon drawn and hesitated at the door. Prime punished interruptions, especially unwelcome ones. Ricochet bristled in his armour, he was Prime's bodyguard and although a trip to the Agonising Rehabilitation Chambers (ARC) was one to be avoided, he had a duty to perform.
Taking a deep intake, Ricochet overrode the door lock and burst into the room. He stopped when Prime's dark optics glared back at him from behind his desk.
"Prime, I heard a scream."
Standing, his leader growled softly. "I appreciate your concern Ricochet." The tone was clipped, annoyed and not appreciative at all. "Everything is fine, we were having a discussion."
Ricochet tensed. We? His optics narrowed behind his golden visor drifting to Prime's desk and to his leader's slightly bent knee. Shifting slightly he caught sight of another mech struggling against the powerful foot crushing him into the floor. He was lying on his back, spots of energon littering his black frame.
"You may leave." Prime continued darkly.
He snapped to attention and bowed courteously; backing out of the room he closed the doors behind him and re-took his position by the door.
It was some time later that the second mech left Prime's office. Ricochet's optics narrowed at the mech's retreating back and the weak flick of his injured door wings. He shook his head and growled lowly in his chest, itching for his shift to be over. He now had personal business he needed to attend to.
****
SG Earth
The bustle of activity around the base was, in some small way, a comfort to Jazz. It really looked like the 'cons of this verse were going to help them, despite Starscream's obvious reluctance. Jazz still recovering decided to seek out the jet and find out exactly what his deal was and if he could try to render some kind of truce.
Having finally managed to lose First Aid who was hovering around him like space dust, Jazz entered the tiny laboratory, located on the outskirts of the Decepticon base. It was immaculately kept; bright and Jazz could see a number of low level experiments bubbling contentedly in the background.
He moved slowly through the small lab, his fingers brushing against the smooth worktop. He stopped at a collection of small class containers and stooped to peer inside. A small organic creature lunged at the glass before disappearing beneath black soil. Jazz moved on and tapped at a cage holding some kind of bird, he smiled when it cheeped at him and canted its head, its black beady eyes watching him warily.
"Hey I'm not gonna hurt you." He reached his finger between the bars and cooed at the bird who cheeped at him once more.
"If you were a human, you would have lost your finger or possibly your optic."
Jazz snapped his hand back and whirled round to face Starscream who was studying him with narrow red optics.
"It's a hawk, indigenous to this planet. Fascinating creature. Skilled hunter." He shot Jazz a sharp look. "Deadly."
Jazz swallowed, tensing as the seeker approached him. Starscream stood beside his bench, his larger frame towering over Jazz. "This is my private lab." He spoke quietly. No trace of animosity in his voice.
Jazz frowned. "I'm sorry, I was looking fer you, was pointed in this direction."
"Hmmm..." Starscream turned away disinterested and fiddled with one of his experiments.
Jazz moved a little closer. "So what's with the containers?" He asked nonchalantly.
Starscream remained focus on his work. "Study, science. Pursuit of knowledge."
"I see."
"You sound surprised."
Jazz dipped his head and smirked. "I guess I am, the Starscream I know well... he doesn't seem interesting in pursuing knowledge."
"You know this for certain?"
Jazz faltered. "Well yeah, he's the SIC t' Megatron and a complete aft head on the battle field. He's a killer, not a scientist. There are rumours he used t' be but the war... changes things."
Starscream glanced across. "Does the Autobot SIC not have interests other than his duties?"
Jazz laughed. "Prowl? If you ask anyone else, you'd be forgiven fer thinkin' that." He paused, his thoughts drifting to the missing mech.
"You know him better?"
Jazz met Starscream's questioning gaze and averted his optics back to the tiny organic creature frittering about in the container. "He's got interests sure."
Starscream's lip components curved into a tiny smirk, feeling amusement at Jazz's avoidance of his question. It told him more than the Autobot realised. "Why did you wish to see me?"
Jazz frowned. "Well I was hopin' t' talk t' you, hammer out a truce. You seem t' be the one 'con here who isn't happy about us being here or about Megatron helping us."
Starscream let out a sharp haughty laugh. "Megatron isn't helping you Autobot. He's helping himself. All that matters to Megatron now, is Megatron. He is a beaten mech. His whole existence has been about fighting Prime, regaining control of Cybertron, there is only so much defeat a mech can take before his spark just stops being willing to take the beatings."
"You sayin' he's given up?"
"I'm saying he's looking for a way out."
"And we're it?"
"Precisely."
Jazz scowled, he didn't like the thought of their rescue mission being used to mount some counter offensive that would get all parties killed. "My Prime agreed to help you though. We can't fight yer war but we can help give the 'bots here a good aft kickin'."
Starscream turned and regarded Jazz with sympathy. "I'm afraid you don't understand." He dropped his gaze. "I have nothing against you or the Autobots who have come through the space bridge. You did not ask to be involved in this fight but if Megatron has agreed to work with you it is for his own personal gain. The cause is no longer of any consequence to him as we cannot win."
"You can't talk like that." Jazz retorted.
"Can't I?" Starscream narrowed his optics. "Tell me Jazz, what is Cybertron like where you're from?"
Jazz turned away from the seeker's scrutiny, his voice subdued. "It's a dead world. The war tore it apart."
"Here, Cybertron is a glorious world. With power, culture and life." Starscream's voice filled with pride as he thought of his home.
Jazz fell silent, allowing the jet to continue.
"The only problem is who is in control. Prime is a ruthless monster. He is a tyrant and his rules are law. His paranoia and his ever degrading need for more power, for conquest fuel this war between us. He hates us simply because we were happy to settle with what we had. Cybertron is great, but he wants more and he will not stop until he has conquered everything within his grasp."
"So you rose up against him?"
"We had no choice. Be hunted or fight back. We are rebels, dissidents, exiles. There is an appropriate human term for what the Autobots consider us to be." He shot Jazz a dark look. "Terrorists."
Starscream frowned, his mind wandering back to the early days of the war. "The Autobots are cruel and elitist, they hunted out anything that was different to their divine order and persecuted them. They use torture as a means to entertain. They crave power above all else. Whereas Decepticons value freedom. Megatron is considered a heretic by Prime because he dared to speak out against him. Dared to question the inequalities in our society." He gave Jazz a rueful smirk. "It was not received very well."
"What happened?"
"War happened." Starscream paused. "Until it, much like on your world began to tear the planet apart. That all changed when Optronix became Prime. He is who you now call Optimus Prime."
Jazz listened intently. "He's different t' the last Prime?"
"Oh yes, the last Prime was old and had poor advisors. When Optimus Prime became ruler of Cybertron, he brought with him brilliant tactical minds and loyal mechs willing to do anything to preserve the Autobot way."
"I assume Prowl is one of those tactical minds?" Jazz was curious as to just how different this verses Prowl really was.
"Indeed, he is one of the most renowned and also one of the most sparkless mechs you'll ever have the pleasure of meeting."
"How was he involved?"
Starscream's smile vanished in an instant. "We were forced to flee Cybertron due to the tactical advice and commands issued by that very mech."
Jazz was beginning to feel a little unnerved. "What did he do?"
"He committed genocide."
Jazz inhaled sharply. The thought of one mech issuing the command to cull thousands of lives was inconceivable, not even Megatron in his verse had – he hoped – considered it. In his processor it all made sense. He knew his Prowl better than most mechs and if there was one sure tactically sound way to end a war, it was to eradicate your enemies with one fell swoop.
Starscream turned back to his experiment. "So you can understand why I am reluctant to travel to Cybertron in all out assault." His voice returned to the dark, cold edge Jazz was used to hearing from the seeker. "It is suicide, we will not be successful. Even with your help."
"Prime needs t' be told about this."
"No offence Autobot but I trust your Prime about as much as I trust my Megatron."
"If Megatron is so unstable, why not take command yerself?"
"Megatron is a formidable warrior and he is a figure head for the Decepticons." His voice was filled with bitterness. "He gives them hope. He was the first to rise up against Prime so most believe he will be our saviour." The seeker scoffed and rolled his optics.
"You don't?"
"There are no saviours, only soldiers fighting a war in which we are outnumbered. We are spread out across the galaxy, hiding. Afraid."
Jazz shook his head and headed to the door.
"Where are you going?"
"T' warn Prime, he needs t' know how unstable Megatron is, what the deal is on Cybertron before we can go in and rescue our mechs."
"You will still carry out the rescue mission for a handful of 'bots?"
"Yer fraggin' right we will."
"But... why? The risk is too great."
Jazz contemplated the question; it was a no brainer for him. "They would do the same fer us." He gave Starscream a sad smile and continued on his way.
Starscream watched the 'bot leave and looked up when Jazz turned back and regarded him with a curious expression.
"You know, it only took one mech t' stand up t' Prime before. Optimus has agreed t' help you, maybe now is the time fer someone t' stand up again. Before Megatron gets you all slagged with his own personal crusade."
Starscream stared after Jazz his words sinking into his processor. Could he rise up? Would the Decepticons follow him? His intakes hitched at the thought of the responsibility, leading the Decepticons was a fruitless position, there would be no glory, only honour in fighting for what they believed in. What was right, fighting against tyranny and oppression or running, trying to survive a measly existence?
Maybe just maybe, with a new leader there could be a sense of hope, a chance?
****
SG Cybertron
Prowl hissed at the unexpected presence behind him. His sensor panels twitched as they detected the movement of the larger mech approaching. He felt himself go rigid as a voice rasped into his audio, hot air exhaling over his face plates.
"I could kill him you know?" The mech growled softly. "You only need t' say the word."
Prowl shuttered his optics and moved away from the familiar presence. "This really isn't the time for one of your rants Ricochet."
The larger mech snarled and blocked Prowl's way. "Why must you pander t' him?!"
"He is Prime." Prowl hissed, his cold optics glaring into the golden visor. "You would do well to remember that." He shoved his way past and headed to the head of his desk.
"He is a fool and you know it." Ricochet snarled angrily. "Why must we keep playing these games Prowl?"
Prowl peered at him from beneath his red chevron and lowered his gaze to the datapads on his desk. "As long as we have to."
Ricochet advanced. "So that involves submitting your very will t' him?"
"If I must." Came the soft reply.
"Gaahhh!!" Ricochet reached easily across the desk and grabbed Prowl's arm. "We could change all that now. Turn the balance of power, take control."
"I should have you deactivated for such talk." Prowl snapped, twisting his arm from the other mech's grasp.
Ricochet drew back and moved slowly around the large desk. A knowing smirk spread across his lip components. "Oh like I don't know what yer plannin' t' do."
Prowl gritted his denta and his upper lip curled in disdain at the mech steadily approaching him. "You know nothing." He hissed dangerously, his door wings arching high and rigid on his back. "I don't have time to listen to your insane ramblings." He turned on his heel sharply only to be dragged back by his door wings.
"You. Will. Listen." Ricochet hissed into his audio. Spinning Prowl round to face him, he drove him up against the wall, pinning the smaller SIC to the bulkhead. "How long have we danced around this Prowl? How many times must I tell you that I know what it is you want?" He smirked at Prowl's enraged faceplates. "I may loathe my insufferable twin but you do learn a few things from the mech who is yer right hand."
"Jazz wouldn't divulge information to you."
Ricochet tapped his chest, signifying the sibling spark bond he and Jazz shared. Prowl's optics widened as the large mech bore down upon him. "Now do I have yer attention?" Sneering, Ricochet let his visor drift over Prowl, taking in the whole of the black and chrome frame. "Or do I have t' make you listen t' me?"
Prowl matched his glare with fierce optics; he was no match against Ricochet when it came down to brute strength but then this wasn't what this was about. He jutted his helm up and managed to look down his nose at the taller mech. "Do your worst." He whispered the challenge, eliciting a growl from Ricochet.
"Why you subject yerself to his whims I will never understand." Ricochet rasped into Prowl's audio."You can reach out and take Cybertron fer yer own. The war would be over and I could rule by yer side with Jazz at my feet."
"What the frag!"
Prowl's intakes stalled as Ricochet was hauled off his frame. Prime lifted the mech bodily off the ground and with seemingly no effort at all threw the mech towards the guards at the door.
"Take him to the ARC." Prime snarled darkly.
Ratchet helped Prowl to his feet. The SIC quickly regained his composure as his optics met the visor of Ricochet being dragged from his office. Ricochet knew the risks of getting caught collaborating with his superior officer, Prime's SIC no less. He grinned manically at Prowl as the two guards hauled him away.
"Prowl explain yourself." Prime demanded with menace.
Prowl turned to his leader, his face impassive. "There is nothing to explain my Lord." He bowed his head in respect. Submitting to Prime's commanding glare.
"He overpowered you?" Ratchet asked quietly.
Prowl remained staring at the floor. "He did." It was the truth, even if he had been willing. Even if he was always willing, it didn't matter. He was SIC to Prime and that had certain limitations. Prime maintained his claim over his subordinates, especially over Prowl who he usually kept close at hand to assert his position whenever he felt necessary. If Prime discovered his true relationship with his body guard they would both be deactivated, slowly and painfully.
"I should deactivate him." Prime glowered.
"Punishment in the ARC should be sufficient my Lord." Prowl kept his head bowed. "And he is still one of your most loyal body guards."
Prime's optics narrowed. "Mmmm that is true." He glanced at Ratchet. "See to it that Prowl is checked over for any injuries at the earliest possible convenience."
Ratchet bowed his head. "Yes Prime."
"Now onto the other matter I wished to see you about."
Prowl glanced up to meet the pleased optics of his leader. "Prime?"
"The newly programmed slaves are ready."
Prowl shot a look at the medic. "Is this true? The procedure worked?"
Ratchet nodded. "I had some trouble with your counterpart's battle computer but they are all completely subservient and will serve you in whatever way you wish."
Prowl's mouth curled into a dark smile. Maybe Ricochet was right, the encounter with the strange Autobots from another 'verse had put Prime on edge. His optics already looking to conquer that new world, fulfil his need for power and control.
"Shall we Prowl?" Prime beckoned to his SIC as he led the way from Prowl's office.
Prowl followed a few steps behind. He could use this to his advantage, by convincing Prime to pursue his insane power hungry goals; he could truly alter the balance of power on Cybertron. A tiny smirk formed on his faceplates, unnoticed by the two mechs in front of him.
Ricochet WAS right, now was the time to take control, to start pushing plans forward. Cybertron was falling into decay. With Prime gone and the Decepticons eradicated or enslaved, Prowl could restore it to its former glory.
Now all he had to do was make Prime listen to him.