The Start of Something Interesting...

[lastonepercent]

The day was calm, with no recent Decepticon attacks, and none suspected to be incoming for some time.  The cons were too busy licking their wounds from the last battle, one that the Autobots had decidedly come out ahead on.  The celebrations had gone on long into the night and the recreation room was already a mess.

Thus, it was the perfect chance for a lone Autobot to slip casually outside.

Mirage had no shift currently scheduled, so he was free to spend his time as he pleased.  He certainly made no move to hide his departure, greeting his comrades in the halls on the way out, but the box in his hands remained unopened despite any passing curiosity.  It was quietly shifted into subspace before long, and  the former noble shifted into alt mode just as smoothly when he reached the doors.  Despite the completely inappropriate earthen race car mode, the mech had little trouble self-adjusting before driving off into the forest covering the mountain, for business unknown...

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[cliffjumper]

Jerking at the slam of Jazz's hand on the table, Cliffjumper reflexively clutched the datapad closer. He really, actually, hadn't realised how serious this was supposed to be.

Even with the door being locked, even with the jamming device on the table, he had thought that he could do the downloading and deleting at his leisure, not right now.

It only had a little to do with the fact that he'd been pretty distracted by his frustration and embarrassment.

Blushing out of embarrassed anger, Cliffjumper demonstratively yanked out the cable from the base of his helm and plugged it into the datapad.

"Fine. There." He'd not admit that he actually hadn't caught on to the fact that this briefing was being treated with a higher security clearance than he was used to.

"I can get a hint..." Cliffjumper muttered, transferring his sulky glower to the datapad to glance through some of the infomation even as he downloaded it.

... Nevermind that Jazz's little outburst was hardly a hint, and that somewhere, his feelings nonwithstanding, Cliffjumper wasn't sure he could do what was being asked of him.

It just didn't seem honest.

Download complete, Cliffjumper frowned at the datapad and glanced up at Jazz again, asking, "the last half of the info, right?" just to confirm, before he deleted it as told.

[lastonepercent]

"Good. Just start showing that you can more often."

And like that, Jazz's anger slid away, forgotten or - more likely - well-hidden once more.

"Yeah. Everythin' past "~DELETE~" in the bold letters," Jazz snorted, but not unkindly. His helm tilted far enough to watch the words vanish off the datapad screen, before he nodded in satisfaction.

"Good. Go memorize the rest of that the old fashioned way, and prepare yourself to leave in a week. You'll be meetin' with both Prime and Mirage later this week, before you head out with the envoy, so be prepared for that as well."

He nodded his helm toward the door, which unbolted wirelessly with a click.

"Unless you got any questions, you're dismissed."

[cliffjumper]

Cliffjumper just huffed and gave Jazz a sulky glare at the comment, then bent his helm back over the datapad, trying to pretend he hadn't missed that - or the way Jazz spoke.

Glancing from door to Jazz when the door unlocked (it hadn't just been locked, Jazz had actually locked him in?!), Cliffjumper scowled.

"... I guess. How long's this gonna last?"

He just had the unpleasant thought of Mirage finding out or otherwise realising he had a huge, embarrassing crush on him and then laughing.

Or something else, like sneering.

He wasn't sure which was worse, even if he tried to convince himself he didn't care, either way.

[lastonepercent]

They had both been locked in - and keeping other people locked out was the most important part.

Jazz leaned back in his chair with a casual shrug.

"Hmm. We're not sure yet. That bit is still involved in the negotiations. Prime will fill us in when it's settled, but if I had to guess, I'd say a week to a standard month at worst."

[cliffjumper]

Staring at Jazz, Cliffjumper grimaced.

A week - sure, no problem (hopefully). That would probably not lead to too much of a mess or frustrations. A month however?

In more or less close quarters with Mirage? Having to pretend they were bonded?

Annoyance almost pushed away the sick, lurching dread.

"Fantastic. Better fraggin' not be a month." Cliffjumper barely managed to keep in the, admittedly spiteful, mutter about Mirage probably not wanting to leave at the end.

(And really, if he wouldn't want to, given that he'd always been somewhat... standoffish to direct action, no matter what he thought of the war or what the Decepticons worked for, Cliffjumper wasn't even sure he could begrudge him the chance.

More than one person probably would want to be able to not fight by now, but if they didn't... who then? With another grimace and a huff, Cliffjumper gave Jazz a wave after briefly pausing to see if the mech would bring anything more down on him, and then left.

He'd ignore this stupid datapad for as long as possible, but he knew he'd have to read it (and the data he'd downloaded from it) at least a few times before the week was up.

[lastonepercent]

"Hopefully not," Jazz agreed readily enough. Having Mirage - and even Cliffjumper - gone for that long could cost them more than they might immediately gain by establishing new allies.

"But ya never know. I'm sure we'll try ta avoid it, but don't discount the possibility just yet."

But Jazz left it at that, returning the wave as the minibot escaped out the door. Returning the scrambler back to his subspace, Jazz pondered how he might break the news to Mirage himself...

[cliffjumper]

While Cliffjumper stormed off, too distracted to even go back to the shooting range (while he did use it to unwind sometimes, it didn't work for everything), Jazz wandered out in search of the next target the other person involved in this mission.

At the least, not liking it or not, he could be certain Mirage would understand why... both from his position as a priest and as part of spec ops.

[lastonepercent]

Mirage, while all this was going on, had settled himself in his small shrine room, attempting to find calm in meditation.

It was slow going.

The excitement of finding other priests - an entire culture, still intact - had been tempered by the realization that they were from an entirely different branch of their faith. One that Mirage couldn't help but find foolish...and inconvenient.

Of course they would be zealots. Of course he would have to lie and present himself falsely to even get to their world. He would prefer not to, of course, but he also preferred not to be stuck bonding his spark to some random, 'convenient' mech for the sake of allegiances.

Mirage's engine growled, disturbing the quiet of the room. He didn't even want to think about who he was going to have to rope into this farce...

[cliffjumper]

Right about then, Mirage got pinged.

::If you're having trouble meditating, I might either be about ta make it better or worse.:: Pure amiability, if understanding, there, as Jazz waited outside, leaning against the wall.

He'd been there for a few minutes actually, gauging whether to get Mirage when he left the room or to take this now, if Mirage hadn't gotten too deeply into his meditation.

[lastonepercent]

::...A most ominous opening statement.:: Mirage replied, his failing meditation breaking completely with dread.

::I'm not sure I want to know.::

But the door to the shrine unlocked remotely with a muted click, allowing the head of Special Operations to come inside when he pleased.

[cliffjumper]

"Perhaps just a little," Jazz said with a grin as the door opened for him, "but I think you're equipped ta handle it."

Compared with certain other mechs on this ship, and more specifically, for this mission.

Lacking a handy table, when Jazz pulled the scrambler out this time, he put it on the floor.

"Lock the door, would ya?"

[lastonepercent]

"Also ominous," Mirage quipped back, a single optic lighting up as he peered over toward his commander with a resigned air. The scrambler was barely acknowledged; the spy was well used to the thing coming out when times got...tricky.

The door locked remotely with a soft thud, and Mirage tilted his helm up at the other mech in silent query.

[cliffjumper]

After flashing another dry smile at Mirage, Jazz spread his hands, palms up.

"Any thoughts of who you need ta come with you?" Jazz rather hoped Mirage had already come to the only possible conclusion, since even if he didn't yet know of the information the mech who'd "helped" their visitors on their ship had found out, he still had a wealth of religious information available thanks to his position.

If he didn't, well... then he'd have to tell him.

[lastonepercent]

For some reason, Mirage always got a little bit nervous when Jazz attempted to be disarming and innocent.

"I've been trying to avoid thinking about just that, I'm afraid."

Mirage sighed, staring up at Jazz with a wary twist of the lips.

"I was under the impression I had a little time."

[cliffjumper]

Mirage probably had all the right to be a bit nervous when it happened, and Jazz wasn't currently doing anything to dispel it, really. Not that he was, precisely, actually attempting to unsettle Mirage.

So after giving another dry, amused smile, he straightened up and shook his helm.

"If there actually were more options, you would have, Mirage," Jazz said, his optics having dimmed a little into soberness, "but as it is, 'cause apparently an anchor needs ta be sensitive, and given your... ah, history with the mech in question..."

Jazz shrugged.

He hadn't really been surprised that the anchor needed to be sensitive, if not a full priest or otherwise involved in the priesthood. It made sense, really, that you'd want someone who, at the least shared the same basic ability as your actual priests to be able to... well, ground them?

[lastonepercent]

Mirage groaned, looking away as his shoulder wheels hunched up defensively against his neck.

"Jazz. Must you? Do this? Right now?"

He groaned again, running a hand down his face hard enough to make the metal squeal.

"I really, truly do not wish to contemplate even broaching the subject with the little jumpstarter, much less considering how many possible ways he could frag this up if we actually bring him along!"

[cliffjumper]

"Gives us... and you more time to plan and make sure you have ways to rectify anything he might mess up," Jazz said with a shrug, quietly patient even if he had... less of it to draw from after dealing with Cliffjumper and his reaction to being told. Because it was probably unavoidable Cliffjumper would mess things up, even just accidentally and not meaning it.

Which wasn't really so much a dig against the minibot, just that he was hardly used to the more... delicate sort of missions, or had a personality fitting for them.

"And you don't have ta broach anythin' with him, Mirage, it's already taken care of." Pulling out a datapad and holding it out to the frustrated Mirage, Jazz waggled it a little, "what we learned on their ship. Ya know this wouldn't be my chosen set-up either; if we could, I'd rather have one of our initial top picks for a mission like this playing the role of your bonded, but that ain't how this is going to have to play out."

[lastonepercent]

"Uggghhh...Jazz, what?!"

The datapad was ignored entirely.

Groaning, Mirage took advantage of the fact that he was already on the ground to curl up melodramatically, fingers curling tightly around his helm.

"I cannot believe you already told him! Dare I even ask how poorly that little fusebox took it?!"

[cliffjumper]

He probably shouldn't be amused.

Not even the smaller amount of patience he had to call on diminished the fact that he was, however, as he watched Mirage curl up like an overdramatic newspark told they couldn't have an energon treat.

Tapping the corner of the datapad against his cheek, Jazz grinned.

"Decided ta start in the hardest end when I found out we couldn't choose anyone else, considerin' his temper," Jazz said, still resting the datapad against his cheek while he spoke, "Pretty poorly. There was yelling. He'd probably argue with Primus himself if he didn't like what he had to say."

He would have said "argue with Prime", but well. That was a definitive and known thing that had happened, so it would be moot to use it.

"He knows he has to go, though."

Not that Jazz had fully begrudged him his reaction, if his suspicions were true - which they seemed to be - but there was no time or possibility to accomodate such things right now.

[lastonepercent]

"Oh, I don't doubt that," Mirage grumbled, voice muffed from his position, face buried in his own knees and pillows.

It took a long moment, in which Mirage tossed the pillow away in disgust, wheels twitching and fingers raking down his otherwise pristine, glyphed plating, but when the spy finally turned back to his superior, he was much more composed.

"So. He actually agreed to this farce?"

He was certain Jazz would be polite enough to ignore his still-spasming tires. He reached out for the datapad.

[cliffjumper]

"He did, yeah," Jazz said as he handed the datapad over, smiling humourlessly, "I didn't quite have ta make it an order, but I told him I would if I had to. Cliffjumper's difficult but not impossible." The humourless tone disappeared under a sharply amused smile.

"At least like this, we ain't gonna have to scramble the last day or so if we'd found this out then and had to change things around."

Frankly, whatever the frustrations right now, it was probably far calmer than anything else that might have happened if they'd had to order/convince Cliffjumper to go just a day before they were due to leave...

[lastonepercent]

"To you he's not impossible, maybe." Mirage muttered darkly, paging through the datapad with a detached air. It was more interesting then he let on, but he was still too vexed to openly show it just yet.

"...I wouldn't have put it off for that long," Mirage snorted, shaking his helm.

[cliffjumper]

Tilting his helm, Jazz snorted.

"You've worked with him before, albeit not in a situation like this," and Jazz didn't mean the 'pretend to be a couple' part, "was it so unmanageable?"

Then he chuckled, shaking his helm as well.

"Meant more if none of us found out what qualities the anchor would need and we'd need to switch at the last moment. But I guess you'd figure it out before then, if we didn't already know?"

Jazz sure hoped so, if they hadn't been successful in obtaining the information now contained in the datapad already.

[lastonepercent]

"He may have gotten -somewhat- better recently, but that doesn't change the fact that Cliffjumper is a difficult mech to work with." He really wasn't as bad as all that but...well. Old grievances were hard to forget.

Mirage snorted. He waved a hand, gesturing with the datapad.

"Oh, I'm sure I would have been able to make some discreet inquiries. Disguised as exploring cultural differences if nothing else."

[cliffjumper]

"Like I said, difficult, not impossible," Jazz said with a chuckle, but the pat to Mirage's shoulder was certainly not unsympathetic, "you'll both have to learn to work better together."

And if nothing else, Mirage might mostly have to contend with Cliffjumper's tendency to get flustered more than his actively aggressive and challenging parts, depending on.

Not that that made it any easier, but Jazz was sure Mirage would be able to handle it.

"Hopefully so. Luckily, it ain't like we had to wait either way. Anythin' ya know you want me ta start do or gatherin' up immediately, or should I leave so you can curse me out in private some more?"

Jazz's grin was nearly wicked.