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“Commander Jazz, I believe that you must accept the fact that Agent Nightstaalker is a lost asset.”
The room fell silent, and every head turned to look at Ultra Magnus. He didn’t flinch under the combined disapproving stares of the Autobot Inetelligence Division, but his frown did deepen.
“I’m sorry, Magnus. Say that again?” Jazz’s stare was something closer to a glare, and any other mech would have begun immediately backpedaling to have it focused on them.
Ultra Magnus just cycled his vents and repeated, “You must accept that Agent Nightstalker is a lost asset. It has been four meta-cycles since Bumblebee’s contact in the former lower Darkmount facility.”
“No agent is lost, until we bring their body home. None.” Jazz turned away, and reached for a data pad. He opened a file and then held it out to Ultra Magnus. “That’s what happened to the mechs my predecessors wrote off as lost. Death would have been a mercy for most of them.”
Magnus took the data pad and skimmed the file. It was a summary of mechs who had been left behind Decepticon lines for one reason or another, and a distressing number of them had been hacked, reprogrammed and used to hurt the Autobots in a number of ways.
All of them had suffered tortures that he hadn’t been able to imagine before this moment.
“We bring our agents home, Magnus. All of them, no matter what. I won’t let any of that happen again, even if I have to storm Shockwave’s tower myself to get them out.” Jazz continued glaring at him. “So no, we don’t consider Nightstalker a lost agent. Especially not after it already happened once before. He comes home, no matter what.”
Ultra Magnus reached the end of the file, and his optics hovered over Highbrow’s own entry. Highbrow had been his friend and the Decepticons had… they had destroyed him, before sending him back to try and destroy the Autobots. “Forgive me, Jazz. I should have known better after Highbrow. How can High Command best assist the recovery effort?”
“Just like that?” Jazz’s expression shifted into something disbelieving, and still angry.
Magnus handed the data pad back, and caught himself reaching to rub his wrist where Highbrow had stabbed him during the assassination attempt on Optimus. “I still have the scars from the Highbrow Incident.”
And he did, both physical and emotional.
“Yeah, me too.” Jazz turned back to his holotable. “And command can help by saying yes, when I tell them I’ve tapped mechs for the extraction.”
Magnus nodded. “We will. I will speak with Optimus personally.”
“Thank you.” Jazz didn’t look up, and Ultra Magnus took the dismissal for what it was.
He left the room, and let himself rub his scar finally. That injury wasn’t as healed as he had believed, for himself or the mechs who had served with Highbrow. He would not make this mistake again.
