#random ocs

It had been some vorns since Jazz had been kidnapped- enough that he had not only gotten his final upgrades, but had gotten a procedure to bypass his optics for visual feed. He still had them, of course. He didn’t want them removed just because he now had a specialized visor to see the world. And what a beautiful day it was to wake up from the surgery and see Ricochet’s face for the first time since he was a youngling. It made them both cry, but neither would admit that.

Now? Now Jazz was an enforcer, helping others the way he had always wanted to, the way he’d needed to be helped when blind. Unfortunately, the glitch he’d inherited from Punch had only gotten worse after the surgery. While it had previously only been triggered at extremely high levels of any emotion, now it triggered not only then, but whenever he got too excited. He had learned that rather quickly when he’d been told the medics were discharging him and he got so excited to get out and see Polyhex that it had triggered the crash. A couple rounds of testing and even more crashes later, he had been released and now had ways to manage his glitch.

But that didn’t stop Jazz! Not like he’d let it, anyways. He was one of the best on the force, and everyone knew it, though he heard whispers about his glitch constantly.

That was enough for reminiscing. Jazz stood with his superior officer, the Chief, and two other officers to wait for the new transfers from all over Cybertron- part of a program the Senate put out to show the enforcers of different city states how others worked, in order to promote cooperation between city states.

The transport pulled up, then opened their doors, letting out an Iaconian, a Kaonite, a crystal city mech, a very carsick Vosian, and—

Jazz gasped softly, “Praxian!”

He could barely wait for his superior to finally allow him to drop the formalities and welcome the transfers with the sunny happiness that Jazz had very quickly become known for in the precinct, and bounded over to them, greeting each enthusiastically and getting varied reactions, from disgust from the Vosian to just as thrilled from the Iaconian, his excitement growing as he bounded over to the Praxian, excited to meet one of the frametype who’d helped save his life vorns ago, even if he never got to know who exactly had saved him.

Only too late did he notice the growing crash, until he stumbled and went down hard, not even registering hitting the ground before he was out.

Both the Chief and Jazz’s superior officer lunged for the collapsing mech, but the Praxian was closest, catching the Polyhexian before he could hit the ground and then standing there awkwardly.

Prowl stared down at the ‘Hexie who’d just crashed and fell into his arms. He looked familiar enough that he dug up all memory files with Polyhexians until he realized this was the blind mech he’d saved back in Iacon during the emergency transfer, though it appeared he had gotten a visor to allow him to see.

“Sorry about that,” the blue, white, and obnoxiously orange mech that seemed to be Jazz’s superior officer said, taking Jazz out of Prowl’s arms and hauling him unceremoniously over one shoulder, “that happens.”

The Chief sighed, “get him to Medic Pharma so he can make sure Jazz didn’t fry parts of his processor again.”

“This is.. normal?” The Iaconian asked. Dartox, if he remembered correctly.

“Unfortunately,” the Chief said as the blue mech took Jazz to the Medic, “he’s got a medical condition. He’s a good officer, even though this happens.”

Hm. Prowl thought, I’d better keep an eye on him, then. Just in case.

Jazz woke up in the Medi-center, though feeling oddly detached from his emotions. Then the logic hit, along with his memories and the readout from the crash and what the medic had done while accessing his symptoms. He frowned softly, unable to worry about what he was reading, but displeased with it. Logic dictated he should still have access, but there was a medic lock on it keeping him out.

Why did Pharma turn off his emotional center?