Universe: G1 AU
Characters: Prowl, Smokescreen, Bluestreak, Jazz, Optimus Prime.
Notes: translation of the title "They made a desert and called it peace". Inspired by  Tacitus' biography "Agricola"

Silence settled on the dust covered, once magnificent city. Like a shadow moving through those streets with no weight or spark, a small winged mech roamed through those ruins.
No.
Roaming would mean he had no given purpose and was just wandering. By how those doorwings flared rhythmically, scanning surroundings and his optics focused intently, Jazz was pretty sure the mech was searching for something. Or someone. Though improbable as he was probably the only living mech in this mess.
Jazz frowned deeply to himself, crouching behind the debris as he continued his observation. He wanted to go and offer help but by how the mech was moving, and keeping his weapon out, he guessed it would not be a civil encounter if he just approached. He knelt, a servo going in his subspace and taking out a round, gray device. Applying it to his chassis, he waited for a uniform dusty gray armor to unfold, covering his white parts. His visor turning black as well, and going down to cover his whole face. It took only a breem. Perfect. Half crawling, his pedes as light as physically, possible, he snuck after the survivor, ready to disarm him.

He had just the time to see a doorwing twitch. Then where there was black and white armor there was nothing, and a striking pain crossed his face. Jazz grunted painfully, trying to back away. The visor cracking under what seemed a elbow. But right then a kick low, behind his left knee, sent him on the ground. He rolled, stunned but letting his instinct kick in. He was as fast as possible. As soon as he finished his roll he jumped up and twisted In mid air, kicking where his now alert sensors caught the presence of his opponent. His frame moving through pure instinct. It struck true and the Praxian stumbled back holding his chevron. Jazz decided to take the occasion and sprung forward, punching him hard in the mid section. And when the mech doubled over he grabbed his doorwing, forcing him down with a rapid twist.

Everything went still for a long moment as the unknown mech went completely motionless, not moving as Jazz held the fragile doorwing's wires in his digits.
"Sorreh mech. ' Jazz snorted as he pinned the Praxian down " Ah just wanted ta disarm ya before talkin'. Ya made it more difficult than what it shoulda been. Now, why don't ya vent and calm enough for meh to let go? "
The mech, who had been rigid like a metal rod under his frame, relaxed reluctantly. His engine almost completely silent.
"Smart mech. ' Jazz said and started letting go, though taking a blaster out in case this one had decided he wasn't defeated yet. The bulkier frame rose from the ground and icy blue optics pierced right through him. But he didn't move.
' Good. Ah'm Jazz, came ta survey first for the search parties.' he presented himself, and at the cold silence which was the only reply he got, snorted "silent type? Who are ya mech? If ya want ta join the rescue effort Ah at least need ta know what your name is.'
Silence, again, for a moment, then a cold, deep voice arrived to his audial.
" Pantera."
" Naw, that wasn't hard. C'mon mech, can ya lead meh where it's more likely bots survived?"
A nod was all the response he got, before the white and black mech took off North, the direction he had been going before . Jazz took off his silver cloak and followed, his visor though still covering his whole face, just turning blue. He didn't want some shard to get in his optics as the visor moved. They walked in silence, the Praxian's doorwings flared out. Sweeping probably to catch noises or movements. The mech though never ever changed expression, something that was unnerving. Jazz frowned, glad his visor let him do that without being seen. Maybe this guy was in shock? This silence, the cold blank stare he gave everything... That wasn't natural.

When Pantera came to an abrupt stop, Jazz almost stumbled into him if it wasn't for the reflexes he was famous for. He looked around, his frown deepening as there were only destroyed buildings all around.
'Mech... It's not different than where we have been before.' he said quietly. If there were no survivors there, why would this place be any different? But this Pantera seemed to pay no mind to him, just walking. Jazz almost thought to leave him alone, maybe he was just crazed because of the shock, and he couldn't waste his time.
But the Praxian was so sure of his direction, not even hesitating as he went through the rubble, that he couldn't stop following. Jazz didn't know how long they walked in silence until the mech just stopped, lowering. Jazz felt his own vents itch, as the distinct sound of a hatch opening drew him even closer, almost touching the Praxian before Pantera lowered inside the opening with calm movements, no hurry or impatience in his field.
"Stay out." the mech said, no commanded, just as Jazz moved to follow. And Jazz did. Out of surprise, or because of the steely, authoritative tone that the mech used, the agent didn't know. So he just took out his blaster, speechless, and hoping he wasn't wasting precious time.

The time, was actually just a few breems. Then, first  steps, followed by a sound. A soft whining that stirred his core coding. Sparkling sounds. Optics widening, Jazz looked down in the absolute darkness. He must had glitched. But it happened again. And again. Those noises getting always closer, until one white arm emerged from the darkness. Black digits holding firmly by the scruff bar a  little thing. Blue optics full of coolant and terror. Jazz staring right in them, frozen.
The same voice, with just as much bite as before, if not more, snapped him out of it:"Take him!"
Jazz just reacted, gathering the little thing in his arms and, without almost thinking about it, pressing him against his spark chamber. Listening to the  youngling's engine whine and hiccup. His optics unable to leave those big blue orbs, as he let his visor turn clear so the youngling didn't have to stare at a bright, empty blue screen.
"We can go." Pantera said after emerging fully from the hatch, and took away the kid with a protective flare of his field. Jazz followed, not really knowing what to say.

After a bit Jazz had retaken the lead, taking his companion and the tiny creature nestled in his arms to where the medics were stationed. A flash of reluctance passed in those yellow optics before the Praxian surrendered the kid to Ratchet's tender, and for once truly so, care. Jazz remained by Pantera's side die a moment before asking:" 'S that your kiddo? '
Nothing responded to his question. Just silence.
Jazz shrugged to himself. His role was done. He should return to the research.
" Ah'll catch ya later mech. " he said as he started leaving, but froze seeing suddenly someone start running right toward them. Wings fluttering behind him.
"Smokey?" he gasped, but before he could grab him, he smashed right into the mech beside him. His optics widening behind the visor as the white mech enveloped Pantera in a tight hug.
"Prowl... Prowl..." the head tactician whined between the sobs "thought you were gone... And Blue?"

- - -

Prowl barely nodded after Jazz, not moving from in front of the med tent. He didn't honestly care where the rest of the world went for now.
His wings twitched then, catching something... Just a moment before a tight hold knocked the air out of his intakes, alarm slamming in his systems way too late. His wrist sheaths automatically slid open and he grabbed his daggers.
"Prowl... Prowl... '
The bicolor mech froze realizing who was holding him. His daggers disappearing, he just hugged back his younger brother. The mech was asking him of Blue, but for a moment he just held Smokescreen in silence. Allowing his doorwings to faintly tremble for a split second.
' We are okay. " he said quietly then, forcing his engine to purr " the medics are checking him. "
The trembling of the plating pressed against his own  lessened immediately, and Prowl vented out, reaching out to rub those shaky doorwings. Feeling Smokescreen slump against him. Coolant dripping on his shoulder.

A gaze was burning his doorwings, had been since his brother crashed into him. But Prowl looked up only when Smokescreen was calm, leaning against him like he did as a sparkling. Jazz had not left. He was still there staring. He didn't need to see under that visor to know.
"Prowl?" the mech asked, his smile under the clear visor tense. Not even the cracks in the glass hiding it enough. The accent had faded. "did I hear that wrong mech? '
Prowl just frowned at him. Not saying anything. He has wanted to just find Blue, get him checked and disappear with him. But he had not accounted for Smokescreen's quick arrival and breakdown.
Smokescreen seemed to be shaken by the words of the small mech and turned to look at Jazz.
"Don't worry, he's just my brother Jazz." he said not stepping away from Prowl. Evidently it was the wrong thing to say, as the silver mech seemed to get only more rigid.
"You don't have siblings Smokey." he said with such absolute certainty Prowl just raised an optic ridge. Who was this mech who was so sure?
"I do." Smokescreen said firmly, while still clinging to Prowl. "even you don't know everything. I'm sure Prowl will be happy to highlight the weaknesses in your research pattern, if you don't arrest him."
Prowl furrowed his optic ridges, as his tactical computer started searching for an ops agent known for the Autobots. He had extensive knowledge of the Autobots' agents, and would lie if he said he never made sure some of them disappeared, but this one Jazz wasn't linked to any known agent.
To investigate on high profile commanders, especially from a city secretive like Praxus had been, he must be a good operative too. Also to escape his own informants... A name flashed in his processor and he went completely still, knowing immediately how dangerous this mech was. His greatest mystery variable standing in front of him.

Meister.

- - -

"This mech is a shadow, him and the mechling he rescued." Jazz said seriously, accent gone as he was deeply concerned. He stood in front of Optimus, the leader leaning his chin on his folded servos. 'I checked personally Smokescreen's background. He had no brothers. Only a solid career as enforcer corps tactician. There's no Pantera and no Prowl in the archives of Praxus. No Bluestreak even, the little kid. "
Optimus's engine hummed softly and the Prime spoke up for the first time. Jazz felt a bit of tension fade at those soothingly calm tones:'Well, maybe he's hiding from someone or something. Did Smokescreen say why his siblings were into hiding?"
Jazz snorted.
' Smokey refuses to say anything about the matter other than Prowl being trustworthy. He went as far as saying he'd be a excellent tactical head and his aptitude tests surely show that. Like we'd get in someone we have nothing on. I sure as pit don't want that. "
Optimus raised an optic ridge slowly at him.
" We trusted Smokescreen's advice for a decavorn before this came along, he never betrayed us. We should at least try to look into this mech, see if we can find reasons to trust him. Jazz, my friend, you are my best agent and my Second. I want you to try and get as much as possible through him. "
Jazz sighed heavily, feeling it would have come to this.
" Ya got it boss. " he said quietly.

- - -

Small digits curled on his white armor tightly, as the little frame was rattled with shivers. Prowl rubbed those little doorwings plastered on Blue's back, murmuring softly to him.

"He's still like that?" Smokescreen's voice asked, but the older praxian didn't even look up from that little helm hiding in his chassis plates, over his spark.
"Yes. The psychiatrist said it is normal. He could hear the bombs falling from where Streetstar hid him. I wasn't able to soundproof it before it happened ." he said quietly with a sad frown.
Prowl felt his brother get closer to him and extend his field reassuringly. The two of them letting their engines purr soothingly together. Bluestreak started calming down a bit more, and his doorwings quivered a last time before laying still as the mechling's optics flickered offline. His systems settling in a deep recharge. Prowl sighed in relief, rubbing the little mech's cheek. If Streetwise had not reached the bunker in time... He deleted that line of thought. His field couldn't lose the calming warmth now.
"Prowl..." the voice of his brother actually helped him distract himself as he looked up. "I am sorry. I should not have reacted like I did."
Shaking his helm, Prowl opened a highly secure comm line. No one could hack in that, he was sure.
::I understand. What is done is done. And anyway no one will find anything about us. You know that. Even Meister. I wish you had told me who Meister was already though, Smokescreen. You know it was a great annoyance and setback to me. ::
Smokescreen's apologetic stance turned defiant, glaring at Prowl like it would affect him.
::You know I chose my loyalty Prowl. The only reason why I did not dismantle the whole game you were playing was because you are my brother. But do you think I would have given you the key to the Autobots? ::
::You would have not given it to me. You would have given it to Praxus. Your home. I could have ended this war before it came down to this. :: Prowl replied and his optics narrowed ::And now, what game are you playing? Getting me recruited? My only loyalty was to my home. ::
Smokescreen looked down at Bluestreak.
::I am not letting you and Blue disappear again. And I am giving you a chance to redeem yourself, big bro. You should take it and thank me.::
Prowl frowned deeply and glared at Smokescreen firmly.
::I have nothing to redeem myself for. I'll wait for Bluestreak to be better, then we'll be gone. You too if you want. If you are intelligent. ::
Smokescreen just snorted and focused fully on Bluestreak, silence falling between them.

- - -

Jazz was silent, watching from the doorway of the med bay. He knew the two had been talking through comm, but he had not been able to break it.
Jazz. He was the best at decryption and hacking. His easy smile was always more difficult to maintain as he slipped away, a servo going to his subspace. He waited to be in his office to open the data pad he had always with him. Whatever that mech was, he had passed all his aptitude tests with ease. And didn't seem like he even tried that hard.

"Just what are ya, mech? ' Jazz muttered softly. Staring at those yellow, impassive optics that seemed to glare at him even through a picture.

Author's note: this is a piece I've been working on for so long. And I still don't feel like it works like it should. I will probably do more one shots related to this one.