As always, lots of thanks to my friend The_Broken_Bird. She sped me up, encouraged and helped with ideas.

THANKS FOR YOUR REVIEWS TOO, GUYS! These make me so happy!

'Origin.'

Chapter 5. 'Connections.'

---

"Prowl, may I have a word with you."

"Prime." The tactician nodded in respect, as other members of the ended meeting left the room to collect their charges. The Autobot leader looked at the data-pads laying in front of him, "It was a very challenging decision you made but I would like to ask the reason?"

Despite the fact that Prime revealed his relief during the meeting, now Prowl acknowledged the uncertainty in his leader's voice.

"Sir... I assumed that you have approved..."

"I did and, to be honest, I was glad that someone accepted the responsibility. However, I want to make sure that you understand the expectation..."

"I do, sir. I could see others were not very enthusiastic about the matter. Yet, the job needs to be done."

The tactician studied his leader's thoughtful expression.

"Is that the only reason? You volunteered because others refused?'

"I am a tactician, sir. It is my job to find solutions and so I did. The matter is rather challenging, yet I believe that I can find the best tactic for realizing your hopes considering the youngling."

Optimus seemed unconvinced and Prowl understood what his leader was waiting for...

"You see it as an interesting job?"

...The youngling was not a project, not a skill challenging test.

"... Not exactly. Sir. I see this youngling more than that."

Their leader was a vise bot and it was foolish to assume that Optimus would trust an upbringing of once a Decepticon youngling to someone who would not see deeper than the core. Prime saw Jazz not as a Decepticon or as a tool that could be used. He saw him as a mechling, young spark under their responsibility. It could not be denied that a figure Jazz would become in the future was rather symbolic, no matter the fraction this youngling would choose. Yet, Optimus hoped that a guardian would see and raise him not as a symbol but as a person with hopes and feeling, certain past and once-created outlook.

"As you have stated, 'we are more likely deciding his future' and I support your view completely."

Prowl decided to be honest with his thought and feelings. Optimus was a mech that could be trusted with both.

"And I assure you that I will do all in my strength to help Jazz understand the thing he has not yet had a chance to see."

There was a satisfied smile on Prime's face and his optics finally met the Praxian's, "I am glad to hear that, Prowl..."

Then Prime signed yet another, now amused smile lightened his features, "This mechling, as fearless and hot-tempered as he might look... He has seen only one side of the moon and..."

"We cannot force or convince him to become an Autobot. He needs to learn, compare and then decide himself."

Optimus gave a short laugh, "Yes. Perfectly phrased. I am glad I chose the right mech..."

"Your trust is honor, sir."

Receiving a permission to leave Prowl headed to the exit but Prime called his name again.

"Prowl, some say that you are the most stoic and concealed mech to find... Yet, once again I have a proof that my Head Tactician has a lot more hidden in his spark. I hope that Jazz would sense that too..."

Not sure how to react to such a complement Prowl decided just to reply with a polite nod.

"Good luck with the mechling... And patience as well..."

---

Autobots arranged a guardian for each of them. Thought these mechs were of high ranks, surprisingly for Jazz, they did not hand them to the less privileged Autobots. It seemed that 'Bots were really interested in them. Both Arcee and Smokescreen got Mirage. Jazz assumed the two being siblings was the reason. As FirstAid had hoped, he was given under Ratchet's responsibility. Bumblebee also happily grinned when his new guardian was announced. Jazz did not understand why his youngest friend could have liked Ironhide - mech was less than gentle handling them at the beginning and surely did not look like someone with a soft spark. But Bee and FirstAid mentioned that he had talked to them and seemed kind. Somehow... Anyway, Bumblebee was happy and that was good. Yet Jazz would be keeping an optic on that Ironhide.

On all of these mechs.

Blaster took Bluestreak and when he did, Jazz could see the relief in his friend. Blue was young, a bit older than 'Bee, but he was wiser. It seemed so, and unfortunately worked against him, considering the situations they had to face. The young Praxian needed someone to cheer him up and thought Jazz had always been ready, the guardian would cause a positive effect too. Bluestreak had not wanted the Autobot Praxian as his guardian. No wonder... Prowl seemed stoic and cold.

The moment Blaster was announced to be Blue's caretaker, Jazz saw how the green optics lightened up. But then he received an apologetic look from the young Praxian when his own guardian was announced. The Decepticon youngling gave Bluestreak a playful blink with his optic assuring that he was cool.

And so, here Jazz was, with that mech - his guardian - standing in front of him.

Youngling gave a sly smirk, "Were others too scared, so handed meh to you?"

"I volunteered."

"Is that so? Ya have a glitch or want one?"

"Decided to try my luck."

"I don' need a guardian orderin' meh around."

"This is an Autobot way of raising sparkling. As long as you are here, you should accept it."

Jazz remembered Prime's statement: their caretakers still needed to perform the daily duties. The proper timetable and details would be considered after the return to the main base - Iacon, but for now, each of the younglings was taken by the guardian with a promise to come together later that day.

Everyone left and Jazz sit on the same seat in front of Prowl, mech patiently waiting for his new charge.

Prowl was his watcher but for how long Jazz was not sure. He needed to find out what the 'Bots planned for him.

"Why not send meh back to 'Cons? Ain't I a trouble?"

"I will not deny that you are, indeed, a complicated matter." Prowl did not want to pressure the youngling with unknown. If Jazz had questions, the tactician was willing to answer, "Yet, high command made a decision and I would recommend considering the opportunity it offers you-"

"I'm not becoming an Autobot."

That had been expected...

"No one can force you to be. The only thing required from you is observing. Decisions will be made by yourself only. I am here to introduce you the Autobot ways as well as to be a figure performing caretaker duties."

"Yeh, of course..." the mechling skeptically rolled his optics and finally stood up ready to follow the 'Bot.

His whole life Jazz was a sneaker - searcher and investigator. More importantly, he was adapter. If he hadn't been one, mechling would have been lost in this big yet too restricted world. Jazz learned to watch, sneak and catch the benefits.

He learned to. He had to.

And so he knew that he would adapt. Adapt to sneak around the Autobots as well as he did with 'Cons, yet stay as he was, as he wanted to be. No one could dictate or control him, even if they believed so.

Moreover, he did not have much to lose and that made him free. He was connected to no place.

He was connected to no one...

---

No. Now he was connected. To them. As much as Jazz did not want to admit.

He once knew what it was - connection, yet it was long ago. He once seemed to have a friend before the sparklings he had been created with were sent to other cities. But he was younger and the connection that could probably be called friendship had been too short... He forgot the feeling of it. And now he remembered. He remembers and did not like it because his spark pulsed and sparkled with protest at the fact that all his friends were being relocated with their new guardians back to Iacon, while he was left behind with his new 'overseer'.

"No."

"Jazz-"

"No!"

"It is temporary. We will depart to Iacon tomorrow night. I still have duties to perform here."

"Ahm goin' with 'em."

There they were by the shuttle, as promised. Waiting to meet Jazz again with the caretakers by their sides. Meeting before a separation that might last forever.

Jazz was not a fool.

"I fear that this will not be approved. I assure, you have nothing to be worried about." Prowl stated as they got closer. The figures standing by the shuttle on the flying deck became bigger as they approached and the sparklings noticed their oldest friend's appearance.

"Jazz!" Arcee cheered happily noticing their friend and Jazz forced a smile on his faceplate, "Hey there..." She dived between the mechlings and hugged his arm.

"Mirage said we needed to leave..."

"Yeh..."

"He said that you were not coming today but in two days..." She had a concerned look and that made Jazz angry. Not at her but at the adults always messing things up. Arcee, same as other sparklings, had been raised in youth centers by knowledgeable caretakers andhad been going to get a private guardian when the city her and her brother's escort stopped at was attacked. She was used to care and knew how to trust adults, while Jazz knew how tricky they could be. Arcee did not like the fact that her friend was going to be separated as she believed, for a very short while, but her previous knowledge helped her to trust the new guardian. Jazz wondered what would Autobots tell his friends, if they were truly never to see him again. How would they lie or distract them? Would FirstAid, Arcee or others forget him?

"Make sure not to blow mech's processor while we are away. I wanna see it happening!" Smokescreen grinned not concerned by the separation at all. Well, that was a naive yet optimistic view and did not lighten Jazz mood in a bit.

"Same goes fo' you, Smokey."

"Okay, kids, time to go." One of the guardians voiced taking their attention at the shuttle, which engines roared with vibration creating the wind. Jazz felt something stuck in his throat.

Arcee squished him one more time before letting go and the next click he felt Blue and Bee on his neck pooling him down. As fast as they hugged him, they let go and happily run after the caretakers, taking their servos.

"Jazz..."

FirstAid stood still with a knowing and sad look. Jazz forced another a smile as they exchanged a wordless dialogue but it was broken when the red-armored youngling finally decided to move and, despite the calls, walked to the older higher mechling giving him a strong hug.

"If they lie, we'll find you..." FirstAid whispered and Jazz strengthened his grip.

"Same goes for me."

---

Sharp metal was blazing through the air and between his digits that skillfully directed it and made the knife dance in his hand. Ignoring several short and non-amused glances from his caretaker sorting the information in the numerous data-pads, Jazz continued his 'game' shortening the boredom of the already started evening.

Back and worth, up and down, turn and back again...

"It is late..." Prowl signed and stated the fact, data-pad still in his hand.

"And you still have work. Ah wouldn't be botherin' you, if you le' meh out, 'caretaker'."

"The base is under reconstruction after and not a place for a youngling."

"Ah will distract your 'Bots. Got it."

After a short moment of silence Prowl continued, "We have a long journey tomorrow..."

The knife stopped.

"You should get enough rest. Recharge."

Jazz looked at him from one of two berths of the room once belonging to the Decepticon officers. Mechling's gaze was sharp as if he again tried to understand weather the older mech was lying about the tomorrow's journey.

He still was not sure how true the claim was.

After a moment of consideration Jazz folded his knife and, hiding it in his subspace, jumped from the berth. He walked passed Prowl sitting by the desk and opened the door ready to leave, being followed by a questioning gaze of his guardian.

"Where are you going?"

Jazz stopped in the door frame and glanced back, "Emmm... To recharge?"

That was the moment Prowl remembered that this mechling never had a guardian. He had been sent to the base as a future solder and, although mechs responsible for his preparation had not performed their duties, Jazz still lived here, as a member of the base, in the same conditions as mature mechs toughed in battles. Prowl being his guardian, it was expected that two would be sharing quarters but the youngling never having experienced such conditions logically headed to his usual recharge place.

"Indeed..." Mech stood up, "I would like you to show me the location of your recharge station."

Confused by the requests Jazz raised his optic brow. Yet, he probably thought that the older mech just wanted to control his location and so his expression changed to an annoyed and bored one as he huffed out a small amount of air but made no comments.

Jazz led Prowl through the grey corridors, the Praxian patiently followed. When they passed several mechs repairing the damaged power links Prowl exchanged polite nods; Jazz never acknowledged their presence and curious looks making the tactician wondered what was in the mechling's mind. What was Jazz thinking of his situation? And what were his true feelings? The young bot lived through so many changes and, as Prowl could say, the world and surroundings were never constant for him. Has it weakened or strengthened the young spark? - he could not answer that yet. May be Jazz was so used to the changes of fate that he couldn't even care about literally being left alone with the rival enemies of his kind? Prowl knew that as a guardian he was supposed to be the first one to find answers. He promised his leader to guide the mechling but to do so, to introduce Jazz the new, he needed to learn what the young bot was familiar with.

Prowl recognized the area – barracks. They passed two doors, behind both of which were huge rooms with the rows of two leveled berths for the soldiers. Jazz stooped by the door of the third and the same view of a dull, grey space with the rows of two-leveled berth stations fulfilling the space appeared in front of them. Prowl knew that the units of the base were constantly changing, one Decepticon group being replaced by another. That was one of the reasons Autobots succeed in the battle - the number of 'Cons was comparably small at the moment of the attack.

Due to the constant changes facilities offered were minimal as it seemed. That was logical, soldiers could stand discomfort without any complains, at least for acertain period of time...

Jazz crossed his servos, "Happy?"

"Which one is yours?"

The mechling rolled his optics once again and walked between the row to the furthest berth in the deep corner, the second level of the berth being partly rusted and covered with dust proving the lack of its usage.

Jazz jumped on his place and laid down peds crossed. Retracting the knife from the subspace the youngling studied its edges, his caretaker silently stopping by his side.

The space seemed abandoned and empty from living, rows of now unused berths looking like a waist of metal. In the dim light blinked pieces of dust drifting through the space. Except rare and distant sound of the base, the silence was pressing, any sudden noise able to cause an uncomfortable shiver. Prowl was not the one to be concerned by such things. He was a rather stoic mech, a military bot, head of the Tactician Department. He would never bother to admit, even to himself, that this tensed atmosphere could affect him in any way.

But Jazz seemed unconcerned either.

His berth was in the far corner that providing at least some feeling of personal space and cover, which, Prowl guested, would be quite appreciated, if the room was full with loud soldiers. The second level had not been used by anyone and so Jazz had had his own berth. However, the tactician predicted that this 'luxury' had not been intended and was a result of a co-incidents.

"Ya'll dig a hole, if you keep standin' for so long." Jazz mumbled carefree, taking 'Bot's attention from the room. Prowl studied him for a moment and turned to the exit.

"Come."

"Wha'?"

"Follow me."

Mechling raised up on his bent servos and for several clicks his confused followed the elder mech. Yet, Jazz remembered his displeasure and was bored by the guardian making him make meaningless walking. Jazz was slowly getting tired – time was late indeed.

"Are ya kiddin' meh?!" he groaned with annoyance but followed to wherever Prowl decided to lead.

And that place was the officers' quarters, again... That mech was messing with him, wasn't he? First telling Jazz to sleep, now taking him back for some reason. Once again proving that he did not enjoy having a caretaker, Jazz wished to get on with it as soon as possible and leave to mind his own business. May be spending one more night on that spot he had found at the roof level... If they were indeed leaving tomorrow (thought, he still was not sure), then this might be the last time he could recharge a bit wildly, yet freely like this. Better than spending time surrounded by grey walls and empty berths.

"I want you to stay here this night." Prowl stated having seat by the desk.

Jazz returned from his thoughts. Still standing in the door-frame, he glanced at the Praxian, "That's officers' quarters..."

Prowl opened a data-pad, "They are currently given under our disposal."

"Our?"

"I am your guardian, so it would be the only logical conclusion."

The lack of reply cause Prowl's gaze to fall on the mechling, "Is something bothering you?"

Jazz glanced in the corridor, Prowl noticing his hesitation, "Would you rather spend night in the barracks?"

The mechling grinned yet his optic still had a sign of uncertainty. May be that was confusion... Prowl should have looked better.

"That's not the only place to recharge, you know that?"

Now Prowl did not understand and Jazz gave a satisfied, sly smirk enjoying the mech's confusion, "There's a nice spot at the roof level..."

"Are you saying that you prefer recharging... under the open sky?"

Jazz missed the fact that someone was actually talking about the location of his recharge place, about something considering his personal time – he was too amused by seeing that surprised look on the Autonot's face. The mechling realized that Prowl was rather high ranked, probably even higher compared to the officers he had had on this base... The higher mechs were, less discomfort they could stand and Jazz would admit feeling pride from his certain level of wildness and the low standards of his requirements. He let the roof matter slip revealed, wishing to gain satisfaction.

The Decepticon youngling went on, "Well, mechs are annoying sometimes – loud but stupid."

"Were you taking your friends there too?"

It was a shut. Jazz's spark gave a flinch, the carefree expression hardened in a click. His was came hoarse from blazing confusion, "-What?"

Prowl leaned at the back of his chair continuing the floating dialogue, obvious of the mechling's satisfaction to his previous surprise. That had lightened the atmosphere and so he hope to gain a bit more from a created talk. He had seen the tension in the mechling's frame when his friend were saying their goodbyes. He had also noticed an amusing and childish, at the first sight, moment with the second oldest of them - FirstAid. Yet, his location had provided Prowl a better view. These looks of the two mechlings' faceplate were far from childish and naive. For whatever reason Jazz had been alarmed for (and Prowl himself could list a lot, yet knew that his new charge was safe), FirstAid seemed to be worried too. These young ones were not naive or foolish. He knew and would remember that. Yet, they were still young, their sparks and minds young as well. And now Jazz seemed to be alarmed by the raised topic. He must have felt Prowl's try to 'dig'.

"Have you shown that spot to your friends? FirstAid, Bumblebee? Others?"

The mechling's optics narrowed, however that reaction had been expected.

"Non of your business." Jazz hissed warningly.

"I guess you did not. You knew that was dangerous..."

The youngling's expression darkened even more, "Quit the interrogation, mech. Ah'm nat eatin' whatever ya're tryin'."

"That's not an interrogation, Jazz, and never will be. Yet, I did hope that you would tell me more. We still have no idea how your friends appeared on the base."

"That doesn't mattah'"

"Actually, it does, as does the fact that you are the one who took care of them... But if you do not wish to discuss that, I will not force you further..."

Jazz's frame was tensed, his hardened expression – a mask for suspense and confusion. He was still in the door-frame, when Prowl looked away and stopped the uncomfortable talk. Uncomfortable it was because Jazz did not understand the reason of the mech's questions. Did they want to learn his ways, hoping to find them useful in the future? Or somehow use it in a negative way? Ma be even against him. But he was not going to reveal his secrets and skills yet. Better to have them for his own advantage... That was assuming that his young friends would listen to him and say no word to the 'Bots considering the matter. Furthermore, if this all ended up with Decepticons knowing the truth his death sentence would be signed. Thought, the current 'imprisonment' could be played out: "Took you long enough! These 'Bots tried to brainwash me with their pathetic lectures! They treated me as a foolish sparkling!"

Yeh... These might work. He would think of something better later. Yet, going back to the things he did during his time with Decepticons, Jazz had lost count in the number of protocols he had broken and 'Cons were unlikely to excuse him for his young age, if they found out the details.

"I know that Iacon has some beautiful views as well."

The mechling's optics flinched at the sound of the 'Bot's voice, "I am sure that you will be able to show it to your friends when all is settled."

Now Jazz was confused even further as he managed to capture Prowl's intention to smoother the mood. The mech was back in his work and as if forgetting the previous topic continued, "If you wish to spend the night on the roof, then I can check the report and see the level of its damage. If its minor then you are free to go..."

"I think... it might work..." Jazz mumbled unsure.

But the next moment both mechs were startled by a loud thunder and a sudden storm hitting behind the window.

"But guessing... not this time..."

"Indeed, the light cover will not suit these weather conditions."

"Stuck with you then."

Mechling walked to the left berth accepting the unfortunate weather conditions. The faster he seemed to be asleep the faster would be created a guaranty of stopping further questions.

Officers' quarters... heh, that was awkward even for him. Lying his helm on his servo, Jazz faced the wall, trying to relax his chassis. In the dim light of the room, Prowl continued his work and younging couldn't help but direct his red optics back at the mech still foreign for him. He studied the Autobot, the enemy of his kind, with curiosity and tiredness, slowly overtaking him.

"Recharge well, Jazz."

After a slow lazy blink, Jazz looked away trying not to think about the mech and his fraction.

Ironically, how their try to get some energon turned out... It felt as they have been revealed long ago – so much had happened already and more was going to come.

Jazz set his inner alarm clock... He had some besiness to do at night...

---

My record - the longest chapter I've ever done, if I recall correctly...

REVIEWS! - these will probably increase me speed XD