These are getting longer. On the plus side, I'm also running out of them. Still working on the Dinobot idea after this, but then the well might run dry for a bit.

So! We revisit the (surviving) pre-movie Autobots and how they're dealing with the fallout the Movie's events. Mostly Blaster and Jazz, and my take on why the old guard were more or less put out to pasture.

Continuity note: There's a few references to a Mars Incident. This isn't some obscure bit of canon; it's from a fic I wrote years ago, which was set in the days leading *up* to the Movie. The Inciting Incident for that story was a Decepticon attack on the Earth Defence Command base on Mars; Though the Autobots went to their aid, due to an EDC cock-up, there was a catastrophic loss of human life. It existed so that Ultra Magnus could get really freaking pissed off, but I also used it as an excuse for why Defensor and Superion weren't in the Battle for Autobot City--They've got stuck on Mars without a shuttle home.

Velvet Glove (who dislikes formatting radio-calls without the option of italics.)

--------

Earth Calling

On the half hour, Blaster sent out the all-too familiar transmission:

::Blaster to Ultra Magnus. Blaster to Ultra Magnus. Do you copy? Blaster to Moonbase one and two, Moonbase one and two, do you copy? Springer? Kup?::

Sometime on the first day, he had made the joke that he'd even be willing to hear from Grimlock. Two days into the wait, he had no heart for levity, and he muted the transmission from the rest of the Ark. Nobody else needed reminding of what they didn't know.

Despite travelling from the East Coast, Carly Witwicky had got to the Ark within hours of Blaster's own arrival. He had sent her a message while he was still hiding in Autobot City waiting for the coast to clear; she had gone straight to the airport and taken her first commercial flight for twenty years. Once at the Ark, he couldn't answer her questions, and she couldn't magic up contact from Ultra Magnus, so they tackled the only thing they *could* do: field repairs to the casualties from the first battle at Autobot City.

Nobody could face the cargo bay that had been turned into a makeshift morgue, but another was lined with Autobots in stasis that Perceptor had not had the resources or time to repair. Then there were the disabled. Steeljaw had survived a shot to the face but had been blind ever since, though he insisted he was getting by just fine with his other senses. Near to Blaster, a morose Seaspray sat where he had done for three days, immobilised by ruined legs.

It was impossible for them to replace large or specialised parts; their own supplies had been destroyed in Autobot City, and until more was known about the situation, the humans' Earth Defence Command had a freeze on consignments to the Ark. In some ways, Blaster was relieved by that. He had few options if there were another Decepticon attack, and none of them would protect a delivery convoy.

Carly did not consider herself to be under the EDC's jurisdiction, and she had got right down to it, marshalling the untrained, wounded cassettes into serviceable nurses as she did the best she could with repairs. In between unanswered transmissions, Blaster tried to do whatever else was needed. On the first day, he'd filled crates with scraps of metal and random hardware, stacked them around Seaspray and chivvied the injured minibot into 'inventory duty', sorting through their meagre supplies for anything useful in repairs.

After her first frantic questions, Carly never spoke of Spike and Daniel, but she hadn't slept for more than three hours at a time since she'd arrived.. She was up again now, patching one of Trailbreaker's minor wounds while the unconscious Autobot waited for a qualified medic's attention.

Qualified medics were in tragically short supply. Wheeljack and Ratchet had both died in the first battle at Autobot City. Perceptor was missing—*not* presumed dead. Not yet. For the past week, First Aid had been stranded in red tape on Mars with the other Autobot combiners. The recent disaster there had become a full-scale diplomatic nightmare as the EDC sought somebody to take culpability. Certain senior officers were less concerned about an Autobot medical emergency than they were about Ultra Magnus going AWOL before filing his deposition.

Blaster and Carly had rather made that situation worse, before Carly came to her senses and reached out to one of her husband's colleagues. Strings were pulled and First Aid had finally reached the Ark three hours ago. Now he was painstakingly bypassing the break in Warpath's fuel line with Rewind's hesitant assistance—Rewind had been down a hand since the battle, but First Aid assured him he only needed one extra.

Shortly before First Aid had arrived, Carly had succeeded in bringing Powerglide back online. While the Autobot plane was ready to go from a physical standpoint, the hardest part about waking somebody up was catching them up on the outcome of the battle and everything since. Blaster had taken that task on himself. He owed that to them; almost every bot here was one of the Ark's original crew. Powerglide had not dealt well with the news, and Eject was currently distracting him with an endless stream of inane baseball chatter.

What worried Blaster was the lack of a Plan B. If they never heard from Ultra Magnus or the others, they had no ship. Omega Supreme was genuinely AWOL and had been for six months. Blaster was putting out a call for him every four hours with little hope of a reply. Cosmos' life still hung in the balance. *If* he survived, they could at least send him to Cybertron on reconnaissance, though considering the last they'd heard from the system, Blaster didn't like the idea of sending anybody alone.

His optics were caught by the strain on Carly's face. At this rate, she'd just keep on going until she'd repaired the entire damned Ark and they could all fly back to Cybertron the same way they'd left it.

He became aware that Ramhorn was watching him from his position propping up Trailbreaker's leg. Blaster threw his cassette a meaningless half-smile before getting his soldering iron back to work on Tracks' passenger door, guiltily aware of the amateur job he was doing. "Man, Tracks, if you just wake up again, I'll shout you a full detailin' service," he promised the dormant Autobot.

When the transmission finally came, the words were casual, almost absent-minded. ::Testin', testin' one more time!::

Blaster recognised the voice so quickly, he didn't dare trust himself. ::Receiving.::

::Blaster?::

::Jazz?:: Incredulous, Blaster kept the line private, but his expression was enough to make Eject trail off, mid-play-by-play.

::Oh, man, are you music to my receptors! First off, tell Carly that Spike and Daniel are safe on Cybertron!::

Blaster flipped the transmission to his speakers, grinning. "Put that on repeat, Jazz."

Everybody's head went up in a moment, the entire room swinging round to him..

::Tell Carly that Spike and Daniel are safe on Cybertron!::

Carly's eyes went wide, and then she crumpled into tears. Nearest to her, Steeljaw gently pushed his head against hers and she latched onto him, burying her face in his shoulder. Rarely demonstrative, the lion nevertheless leaned into her embrace, buffered her shock.

Shoulda told her in private, Blaster thought, but at least she was finally giving way. "She's got it, Jazz. Loud and clear. What about everybody else? What happened up there?"

::Man, that's too long a story, and Blurr's busy. I'm just gonna spoil the end: We're all fine, I'm comin' to ya live from orbit, but we got Autobot HQ settin' up on Cybertron and...:: There was a noticeable pause, enough time for Blaster to wonder what Jazz had saved for the punchline. ::Hot Rod opened the Matrix; he's now leadin' us as Rodimus Prime.::

Nobody had an audible reaction for that.

::Wish I could see your faces! Chill your circuits, it's all good. Wisdom of the Ages is doin' its thing. Hey, Perceptor, is this signal gonna work once we get back planetside?::

::Affirmative!:: Their prodigal scientist's voice was fainter than Jazz', but still clear. ::The Junkions have fabricated an effective satellite relay which is sustaining its celestial trajectory. We have also assembled all materials necessary for the terrestrial receivers.::

::'Affirmative' is all I need, buddy. OK, Blaster, we're gonna head back down so we can get Spike on this call. He left very specific instructions on that.::

"Jazz, you tell him I'm gonna kill him, all right?" Carly was rallying herself, laughing through her tears now, though she was still leaning on Steeljaw as she got to her feet. "And tell Daniel he'd better not get too comfortable up there."

::You'll be tellin' 'em yourself, real soon, Carly, I promise! I'll stay on the line, but we might lose you on the descent. If so, just hang tight and after these messages, we'll be riiight back!::

That last part was chorused by several voices, but Blaster couldn't figure out who had spoken. "Jazz, how did the Cons shake down? Anythin' we need to watch out for?"

::Seems like most of 'em are missin' presumed dead. Rodimus defeated the new Boss-con, and Springer and Arcee are on recon down Shockwave-town. Until they get back, no news is good news. Keep your own eyes to the skies, just in case, but baseline? War is over.::

On Wednesday, July 5, 2023 at 7:10:14 PM UTC+1, Velvet Glove wrote:
> These are getting longer. On the plus side, I'm also running out of them. Still working on the Dinobot idea after this, but then the well might run dry for a bit.
>
> So! We revisit the (surviving) pre-movie Autobots and how they're dealing with the fallout the Movie's events. Mostly Blaster and Jazz, and my take on why the old guard were more or less put out to pasture.
>
> Continuity note: There's a few references to a Mars Incident. This isn't some obscure bit of canon; it's from a fic I wrote years ago, which was set in the days leading *up* to the Movie. The Inciting Incident for that story was a Decepticon attack on the Earth Defence Command base on Mars; Though the Autobots went to their aid, due to an EDC cock-up, there was a catastrophic loss of human life. It existed so that Ultra Magnus could get really freaking pissed off, but I also used it as an excuse for why Defensor and Superion weren't in the Battle for Autobot City--They've got stuck on Mars without a shuttle home.
>
> Velvet Glove (who dislikes formatting radio-calls without the option of italics.)
>
> --------
>
> Earth Calling
>
>
> On the half hour, Blaster sent out the all-too familiar transmission:
>
> ::Blaster to Ultra Magnus. Blaster to Ultra Magnus. Do you copy? Blaster to Moonbase one and two, Moonbase one and two, do you copy? Springer? Kup?::
>
> Sometime on the first day, he had made the joke that he'd even be willing to hear from Grimlock. Two days into the wait, he had no heart for levity, and he muted the transmission from the rest of the Ark. Nobody else needed reminding of what they didn't know.
>
> Despite travelling from the East Coast, Carly Witwicky had got to the Ark within hours of Blaster's own arrival. He had sent her a message while he was still hiding in Autobot City waiting for the coast to clear; she had gone straight to the airport and taken her first commercial flight for twenty years. Once at the Ark, he couldn't answer her questions, and she couldn't magic up contact from Ultra Magnus, so they tackled the only thing they *could* do: field repairs to the casualties from the first battle at Autobot City.
>
> Nobody could face the cargo bay that had been turned into a makeshift morgue, but another was lined with Autobots in stasis that Perceptor had not had the resources or time to repair. Then there were the disabled. Steeljaw had survived a shot to the face but had been blind ever since, though he insisted he was getting by just fine with his other senses. Near to Blaster, a morose Seaspray sat where he had done for three days, immobilised by ruined legs.
>
> It was impossible for them to replace large or specialised parts; their own supplies had been destroyed in Autobot City, and until more was known about the situation, the humans' Earth Defence Command had a freeze on consignments to the Ark. In some ways, Blaster was relieved by that. He had few options if there were another Decepticon attack, and none of them would protect a delivery convoy.
>
> Carly did not consider herself to be under the EDC's jurisdiction, and she had got right down to it, marshalling the untrained, wounded cassettes into serviceable nurses as she did the best she could with repairs. In between unanswered transmissions, Blaster tried to do whatever else was needed. On the first day, he'd filled crates with scraps of metal and random hardware, stacked them around Seaspray and chivvied the injured minibot into 'inventory duty', sorting through their meagre supplies for anything useful in repairs.
>
> After her first frantic questions, Carly never spoke of Spike and Daniel, but she hadn't slept for more than three hours at a time since she'd arrived. She was up again now, patching one of Trailbreaker's minor wounds while the unconscious Autobot waited for a qualified medic's attention.
>
> Qualified medics were in tragically short supply. Wheeljack and Ratchet had both died in the first battle at Autobot City. Perceptor was missing—*not* presumed dead. Not yet. For the past week, First Aid had been stranded in red tape on Mars with the other Autobot combiners. The recent disaster there had become a full-scale diplomatic nightmare as the EDC sought somebody to take culpability. Certain senior officers were less concerned about an Autobot medical emergency than they were about Ultra Magnus going AWOL before filing his deposition.
>
> Blaster and Carly had rather made that situation worse, before Carly came to her senses and reached out to one of her husband's colleagues. Strings were pulled and First Aid had finally reached the Ark three hours ago. Now he was painstakingly bypassing the break in Warpath's fuel line with Rewind's hesitant assistance—Rewind had been down a hand since the battle, but First Aid assured him he only needed one extra.
>
> Shortly before First Aid had arrived, Carly had succeeded in bringing Powerglide back online. While the Autobot plane was ready to go from a physical standpoint, the hardest part about waking somebody up was catching them up on the outcome of the battle and everything since. Blaster had taken that task on himself. He owed that to them; almost every bot here was one of the Ark's original crew. Powerglide had not dealt well with the news, and Eject was currently distracting him with an endless stream of inane baseball chatter.
>
> What worried Blaster was the lack of a Plan B. If they never heard from Ultra Magnus or the others, they had no ship. Omega Supreme was genuinely AWOL and had been for six months. Blaster was putting out a call for him every four hours with little hope of a reply. Cosmos' life still hung in the balance. *If* he survived, they could at least send him to Cybertron on reconnaissance, though considering the last they'd heard from the system, Blaster didn't like the idea of sending anybody alone.
>
> His optics were caught by the strain on Carly's face. At this rate, she'd just keep on going until she'd repaired the entire damned Ark and they could all fly back to Cybertron the same way they'd left it.
>
> He became aware that Ramhorn was watching him from his position propping up Trailbreaker's leg. Blaster threw his cassette a meaningless half-smile before getting his soldering iron back to work on Tracks' passenger door, guiltily aware of the amateur job he was doing. "Man, Tracks, if you just wake up again, I'll shout you a full detailin' service," he promised the dormant Autobot.
>
> When the transmission finally came, the words were casual, almost absent-minded. ::Testin', testin' one more time!::
>
> Blaster recognised the voice so quickly, he didn't dare trust himself. ::Receiving.::
>
> ::Blaster?::
>
> ::Jazz?:: Incredulous, Blaster kept the line private, but his expression was enough to make Eject trail off, mid-play-by-play.
>
> ::Oh, man, are you music to my receptors! First off, tell Carly that Spike and Daniel are safe on Cybertron!::
>
> Blaster flipped the transmission to his speakers, grinning. "Put that on repeat, Jazz."
>
> Everybody's head went up in a moment, the entire room swinging round to him.
>
> ::Tell Carly that Spike and Daniel are safe on Cybertron!::
>
> Carly's eyes went wide, and then she crumpled into tears. Nearest to her, Steeljaw gently pushed his head against hers and she latched onto him, burying her face in his shoulder. Rarely demonstrative, the lion nevertheless leaned into her embrace, buffered her shock.
>
> Shoulda told her in private, Blaster thought, but at least she was finally giving way. "She's got it, Jazz. Loud and clear. What about everybody else? What happened up there?"
>
> ::Man, that's too long a story, and Blurr's busy. I'm just gonna spoil the end: We're all fine, I'm comin' to ya live from orbit, but we got Autobot HQ settin' up on Cybertron and...:: There was a noticeable pause, enough time for Blaster to wonder what Jazz had saved for the punchline. ::Hot Rod opened the Matrix; he's now leadin' us as Rodimus Prime.::
>
> Nobody had an audible reaction for that.
>
> ::Wish I could see your faces! Chill your circuits, it's all good. Wisdom of the Ages is doin' its thing. Hey, Perceptor, is this signal gonna work once we get back planetside?::
>
> ::Affirmative!:: Their prodigal scientist's voice was fainter than Jazz', but still clear. ::The Junkions have fabricated an effective satellite relay which is sustaining its celestial trajectory. We have also assembled all materials necessary for the terrestrial receivers.::
>
> ::'Affirmative' is all I need, buddy. OK, Blaster, we're gonna head back down so we can get Spike on this call. He left very specific instructions on that.::
>
> "Jazz, you tell him I'm gonna kill him, all right?" Carly was rallying herself, laughing through her tears now, though she was still leaning on Steeljaw as she got to her feet. "And tell Daniel he'd better not get too comfortable up there."
>
> ::You'll be tellin' 'em yourself, real soon, Carly, I promise! I'll stay on the line, but we might lose you on the descent. If so, just hang tight and after these messages, we'll be riiight back!::
>
> That last part was chorused by several voices, but Blaster couldn't figure out who had spoken. "Jazz, how did the Cons shake down? Anythin' we need to watch out for?"
>
> ::Seems like most of 'em are missin' presumed dead. Rodimus defeated the new Boss-con, and Springer and Arcee are on recon down Shockwave-town. Until they get back, no news is good news. Keep your own eyes to the skies, just in case, but baseline? War is over.::
>
> Powerglide let out a whoop, startling everybody. "All right! Take us down, you'll go down harder!"
>
> ::Powerglide, my man!:: Jazz whooped back. ::Sing it!::
>
> Giddy with good news, Carly ran to the minibot, hugging his knees. "You guys did it, Powerglide!"
>
> The minibot wasn't quite ready to get to his feet, but he reached across to high-five a cheering Seaspray while Eject seized Carly and waltzed so crazily around the room with her that Ramhorn had to drop Trailbreaker's leg and block the pair from crashing into First Aid who was still intent on Warpath. Not that the medic was ignoring events: "Rewind, get a line to Mars through Teletraan One. I *have* to tell the others the news."
>
> ::Yo, Blaster, any updates on the old crew, ol' Ark-buddy?:: Jazz' voice was lower but clearer, the telltale signs that he'd switched to a private line. Blaster followed suit.
>
> ::Not much—First Aid ain't been here more than three hours. You heard Powerglide's back up and runnin', and young Doc's workin' on Warpath now. Rewind's been loggin' his notes; I'll have him send you guys the latest copy on the regular.::
>
> ::Thanks, dude.::
>
> ::Hey, Jazz? How's Cybertron lookin'?::
>
> ::Aw, man...:: Jazz suddenly sounded tired, and Blaster wondered how long he'd been playing the role of mood DJ. ::Iacon's sweet, peacetime's gonna suit her. But... it just ain't how we saw it, y'know?::
>
> ::Yeah, ol' Ark-buddy. I know.::
>
> * * *
>
> Jazz was in dire need of a good long shutdown even after recharging aboard the Junkion ship—or perhaps *because* of recharging aboard the Junkion ship: the Junkions were entertaining but not exactly restful. Once back on Cybertron, he sweet-talked Wreck-Gar into throwing up a makeshift dormitory with a dozen recharge bunks in the Great Dome. As soon as it was complete, he rostered himself for six hours of Do Not Disturb.
>
> Yet when he came back online and considered the to-do list, he was immediately tired again. Peacetime was a *lot*. He was surprised most of the recharge bunks were still empty, though two had been occupied by Springer and Arcee, so there would be a report on Decepticon activity waiting out there. The pair of them had some minor scrapes and scorching he didn't remember them having before they left, but on the other hand, they weren't riddled with blast-holes, so he figured the news couldn't be too bad.
>
> He left the dorm reluctantly and discovered a big new addition to the Great Dome's interior. Two of them in fact: shuttles. "Wreck-Gar," he murmured to himself. "You are a number one super guy." All the more, because the shuttles acted as a barricade between the sleeping area and the command hub. Instead of reporting for duty, Jazz practised his stealth manoeuvres and slipped outside.
>
> After half-a-day back in Autobot possession, Iacon was humming. There was a temporary generator next to the dome and Junkion hotspots of activity in all directions, as they set up various other points of infrastructure. Their main ship was gone, most likely back to gathering debris. Unicron's remains had proven rather lucrative in Junkion terms, though Jazz preferred not to think too hard about their main source of hardware right now. This had better be the first and last time he would use graverobbing to cement an alliance.
>
> "Jazz! You're up and at'em, awake, alert and active!"
>
> Busted, Jazz thought as Blurr streaked up to him. "Appointment notice: Rodimus Prime requests the presence of you, Ultra Magnus, Kup and Spike in the command centre directly. And by directly, I mean ten minutes ago, but he said they could wait for you to reboot, but now you're done rebooting and—"
>
> "Got your gist, Blurr!" Jazz assured him, turning back to the dome with alacrity. Blurr was the one thing more tiring than rebuilding society.
>
> He had to dodge the Dinobots on his way back inside; the group of them were charging goodness knows where with an exo-suited Daniel riding Snarl, but Wheelie was nowhere to be seen. Jazz counted at least three potential issues to chase up, and he crossed the floor of the Dome to the designated command area, now walled off with mismatched panels for an insecure confidentiality. Fortunately, the discussion within was not at a cosmic level of security.
>
> "I'm just saying it doesn't *have* to be 'Rodimus Prime'. 'Hot Rod' would be one less change for everybody to worry about..."
>
> "But it was *Optimus* who called you that!" Ultra Magnus was primly shocked.
>
> Jazz threw an apology into the ring: "Sorry, I'm late... Just got the message from Blurr. Hey, Spike, did you know Daniel's out with the Dino-pack?"
>
> The human grinned ruefully. "Not my favourite tactic, but Carly uses it all the time—even if they're up to no good, at least they'll keep each other occupied. Parenting is mostly about taking gambles."
>
> Spike was seated on the communications console that Jazz had brought back from his foray into orbit. While he had been sleeping, it had been upgraded with a cathode ray tube monitor and, precariously bolted just below it, what must have been the smallest chair available for the human. Junkion designs ran to practicality rather than finesse.
>
> "And did *you* guys know Wheelie ain't with them?" Jazz turned to Kup and Rodimus Prime.
>
> "Yeah, that didn't last as long as we hoped," Rodimus admitted. "But Perceptor realised that he must have some useful salvage skills if he'd been living off that planet without getting caught for any length of time."
>
> "He's taken him out for a field assessment," Kup finished, jerking his head in a vague westerly direction.
>
> "Looks like you guys got it in hand." Jazz gave an exaggerated stretch. "Leaves me livin' sweet on Easy Street! So, you gonna catch me up on my downtime?"
>
> Ultra Magnus took up a datapad: "Springer and Arcee have reported in. Obviously, this isn't a thorough evaluation, but they were able to confirm the destruction of all Decepticon operations with Shockwave among the confirmed fatalities."
>
> Jazz emitted a whistle, an Earth habit. It shouldn't have been surprising, but the bluntness of events was hard to take. All their planning and then.... Deus Ex Machina.
>
> "Blitzwing was witnessed surveying the wreckage, before departing the planet. Polyhex is no longer functional as either shelter or energy source; its salvage value is limited by structural instability." Magnus lowered the pad. "We can presume no living Decepticons remain on Cybertron, but the survivors are likely to regroup elsewhere in the Galaxy."
>
> "Like Earth," Spike finished.
>
> Rodimus frowned. "It's a big galaxy, Spike. We'll always protect Earth from the 'Cons, but..." He spread his hands helplessly. "How do we manage the rest of it?"
>
> "We can't, but you've got contacts from before you joined up with us, Rodimus." Smooth move from Kup there, reminding the new Prime that he *did* bring stuff to the table. "Why don't you try reaching out to them for assistance?"
>
> Rodimus' face relaxed at this sop of confidence. "Like Devcon, huh? He'd be a good extra set of optics for us."
>
> "But our priority right now has to be Earth." Magnus dragged them back on track, picking up another datapad from a gloomily large pile. "We have placated the EDC, thanks to Spike's efforts, but I need to settle this thing on Mars so we can collect the Aerialbots and remaining Protectobots. We are scheduling a formal introduction of Rodimus Prime to the EDC at the same time."
>
> "Yeah, they're struggling with the fact you've had two changes of leadership within a week, and they're *really* unhappy that they don't have any record of Rodimus Prime before now," Spike elaborated. "Rodimus, we're gonna figure out how to package you for them, but word of advice: Don't bring up the prophecy. In our experience, thinking you've been chosen to lead by a cosmic power is a huge red flag."
>
> Rodimus snorted. "That's what I've been saying!"
>
> "Well, once we've wrapped things up on Mars, we can return Spike and Daniel to Earth and relieve the Autobots at the Ark," Ultra Magnus brought them back to topic. "We need to establish our priorities for—"
>
> "Agreed, but I've got something to settle first," Rodimus cut him off. Ultra Magnus clearly wanted to protest, but he hesitated and Rodimus ploughed on, stumbling over obviously rehearsed words.
>
> "We all know that... nobody was *preparing* for me to be in this role. You fought nine million years of war for this; I owe it to you not to screw it up. So I want a council of actual people around me, guiding me as I figure this out. Ultra Magnus has already agreed to lend me his experience..."
>
> No longer protesting, Ultra Magnus inclined his head, grave as ever.
>
> "Spike, Earth is Cybertron's most important ally, and so much of that is down to you. I know with your help we can keep that alliance strong for the good of both our planets."
>
> Spike smiled, and there was a flash of a younger man in his eyes, looking back at the Prime with eager pride. "It would be my honour."
>
> "Kup, you know me inside and out. It's taken awhile, but I've—finally—come to realise that your advice is invaluable to me."
>
> "Couldn't get rid of me if you tried." Kup paraded his satisfaction, but there was an intense loyalty underlying it.
>
> "Jazz..." Here it comes. "You're the friend to all Autobots, a true people person..."
>
> "Hey, don't sell yourself short," Jazz deflected. "You're all the people person you need! There's not a one of us you've not sweet-talked your way around."
>
> Rodimus laughed and abandoned his lines. "Maybe, but I couldn't dream of doing this without you."
>
> The words were disarmingly warm, and Jazz felt himself yielding because he knew he could do it. The skills were ingrained, all those little habits needed to nurture a team, even an entire base, were second nature after decades as a senior officer. Not only that, but he could see the Jazz-shaped hole in Rodimus' council: Kup and Ultra Magnus' standards for him were going to be a pressure cooker situation; Jazz would know exactly when and how to vent the steam. He had the skillset they needed.
>
> But it doesn't have to be me.
>
> Ultra Magnus had the experience, Kup had the weather eye for mood; Springer was just as good at defusing a situation as Jazz and, considering his closeness to both Rodimus and Magnus, was probably better positioned for that role, council or not. There was no prophecy locking Jazz into this. It was OK to say the word...
>
> "No. I appreciate being asked, but no."
>
> Rodimus was clearly surprised, but it was the dismay on his face, making him look every bit as young as he was, that tugged at Jazz' conscience. "I'm sorry, Rod. I just can't start over again. I need some downtime... Especially after talkin' to Blaster yesterday, I need to get back to my Ark-crew, be with them for a bit. Man, it's hard to explain..."
>
> "I think I get it," Spike broke in, unexpectedly. "Bumblebee and I were talking earlier, between EDC calls, and... I remember when I first met you guys, you'd only been awake a day or two, and you weren't yet worried that you couldn't get in contact with Cybertron. You were so committed and determined to bring help to your friends back home."
>
> Jazz leaned back, needing to break eye contact a moment. He had forgotten that early naïveté.
>
> "Dad and I could see the change, as time went on and you couldn't find anybody, even when you looked on Cybertron. Honestly, it impressed us, because even though you lost that hope and started grieving your friends, you were *still* committed. You weren't letting the Cons get away with what they'd done and you weren't letting them do it to another planet."
>
> "The mission kinda changed," Jazz agreed heavily. "Even when we found some of you guys survived," he nodded to Kup and Ultra Magnus. "The famine had done the damage while we were sleepin', and the army we were supposed to save was gone. What we had left was stoppin' Megatron."
>
> "And now you've completed your mission."
>
> "Dunno that *we* completed it," Jazz refuted. "But it's over, sure enough.." He looked at Rodimus. "I'll level with ya; this is where it matters that you're not Optimus. It's not your fault and it's not about you not bein' good enough, but... You guys are makin' plans for Iacon, and when I look out there, all I can see are the empty spaces."
>
> Spike nodded, sympathy in his face. "Yeah, 'Bee said something similar and apparently Cliffjumper feels the same way. Since I'm on this council of yours, Rodimus, my first advice is to let these guys have the time to grieve.. They've been all in on each other for twenty years, and in the past week....." His own voice tightened, and he gave it up.
>
> Rodimus gently filled the silence. "Understood. Jazz," he stepped forward, laying one earnest hand on Jazz' arm. "Thank you so much for all you've done to this point."
>
> "Aww, man..." Jazz could feel his cool cracking in a million places, but he forced out a shaky reply: "Toldya you don't need another people person!"
>
> Rodimus stood back, giving him the space to recover. "We'll be rebuilding Autobot City. Would you at least be willing to take the post of its Commander?"
>
> Jazz shook his head. "I'm not sayin' I'm old, and it's not that I'm *retirin'*... I just need an easier life for the next age. But if you're lookin' for suggestions, I'll nominate Blaster. He's younger. He's got some fight still in him..."
>
> Spike raised a hand. "Seconded. Carly's giving Blaster all the credit for holding things together down there. I've had more mixed reviews from the EDC, but... let's just say the people who didn't take to him are the people who needed a wake up call."
>
> Rodimus shrugged at Kup and Ultra Magnus, neither of whom protested. "Guess we'll be talking to Blaster when we get to Earth then. Magnus, you were saying?"
>
> As Ultra Magnus looked down at his notes, trying to remember where he had been interrupted, Jazz leaned towards the young Prime, apologetic. "I know it's a privilege bein' able to say 'no'."
>
> Rodimus Prime met his gaze without bitterness. "You've earned it."

On Saturday, July 8, 2023 at 11:09:27 PM UTC+1, Codigo Postal wrote:

> Another great fic! VG - both in your stories and in canon, it feels like the Autobots are largely supportive of absolute military and civilian leadership being passed by a heretofore unmentioned cosmic powerpack to the resident screwup frat boy (if he were human, he'd be the guy on spring break judging wet t-shirt contests while wearing a novelty "FBI - Federal Booty Investigator" shirt).

Oh, he's not *that* bad! I mean, he might be cheering the wet T-shirt contest, but I think he'd have more tact than to wear that shirt..... Cartoon canon Hot Rod *before* the Matrix is too fleeting to draw any conclusions, but I'm pretty careful in my universe to give him some virtues.

>
> Do you think any portion of the Autobot forces would have been likely to object? Why, other than lingering respect for the dearly departed Optimus, would they acquiesce so readily? Or is it just the case that Rodimus benefited from the post-war glow, and they were happy to have someone take on the responsibility?

I blame it on Matrix-reverence, mostly, and Autobot faith in the 'Wisdom of the Ages' being transferable. (It's difficult to pin down how that works, since he can't get direct access anytime he wants). But I think also Hot Rod's got a lot of goodwill among the surviving Autobots. Kup and Springer might be a bit more cynical than to blindly accept the Matrix' choice, but they were fond of Hot Rod to start with. Maybe Perceptor would prefer a more reasoned approach to choosing the leader, but he's not the type to stir up trouble, and he must have long since found his balance between Autobot spirituality and science. Complaining types like Gears and Huffer are dead... Wheelie doesn't know any better, the Dinobots have decided they like Hot Rod..... Like Jazz said, he *is* a people person.

> What I appreciated most about this story was the sendoff it gave to Jazz - bittersweet and appropriate for a beloved character. What a shame that his VA's death meant he never got that sendoff in real life/animation.

I'm glad you appreciated that! It kind of developed once I started writing.... I used to be nervous of writing Jazz, because I wasn't sure I could get the slang right, but I eventually figured out that the slang isn't so much the point.... he's just a lovely character to step into from time to time. And it works because Jazz has nothing to prove, his story *can* end here and it's a life well-lived. Though like he says in the fic, it's not that he's retiring, he's just having an easier life for a bit. (Technically, G1 Jazz ended up as a pretender, didn't he? If we put that into cartoon continuity, maybe after Only Human, we could say Jazz signed up for a programme exploring new uses for synthoid technology and had a whole new wave of adventures.)

But yes... For now, Jazz doesn't really have a role left in the cartoon 'verse, and, of course, one of the reasons for that was because we lost Scatman Crothers, so I did want to take the opportunity to pay my respects to one of the coolest, sweetest guys on the show.

Velvet Glove (who has so much nostalgia for Scatman's voice... Half the fun of writing Jazz is hearing that voice in my head)