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“Shh, there he is!” An unfamiliar voice hissed as he walked into the commissary.
Jazz gave the mechs nearest the door a curious look. “Afternoon, mechs.”
“Afternoon, Commander,” one of them replied. Jazz flipped through his onboard personnel files to see if there was a reason the mech should be shifting nervously in his seat, or his companion looking around anywhere but at him, but neither bot had more than a couple of minor disciplinary actions and they weren’t anyone who had needed to work closely with Intelligence since he’d been brought in.
“Anything happening I should know about?” Jazz gave them a smile, hoping to set them more at ease. Mechs who felt comfortable talked even when they were trying not to.
“Not really, sir.” The speaker shook his head, as the other bot made shushing noises at him. Interesting. “Just that the nozzles are clogged in the main dispenser again. Won’t even give half a cube.”
“Appreciate the warning. I’ll get someone in maintenance down to look at it.” Jazz nodded to them and stepped away from the table. Clearly they didn’t want to tell him what they’d been whispering about, and he wasn’t going to push. He would just do what he always did, and pay attention when they didn’t realize he was even listening.
Listening to that new track Blaster had just assembled should give him enough cover, while he turned up the gain on his audios to eavesdrop on the rest of the room.
“That was close,” he heard one of the mechs whisper as he moved to the secondary energon dispenser and filled a cube. “I can’t believe you just… talked to him like that!”
“He might be Intelligence, but he’s still just a bot. I keep trying to tell you that.”
“Yeah? You didn’t see what he did to the Con base in Altihex.”
Jazz pulled up Blaster’s track and started playing it softly, resisting the urge to smirk. The base in question had been Mirage’s work, not his, but it had been impressive.
“And he’s still just a mech! If anything, the destruction of the Altihex base proves that he did earn his promotion!”
Ahhhh. Mechs were spreading rumors about his promotion again. Jazz bobbed his head in time with the beat of Blaster’s song and considered whether or not he and Mirage needed to nip it in the bud. The last round of gossip had resulted in an attempted assassination, after all.
“Gentlemechs.” Optimus Prime’s deep voice interrupted his thoughts, and he turned to the doorway along with everyone else in the commissary. “Gossip about your commanding officers is not forbidden, but perhaps you should have the decency to do so when they are not in the room with you.”
“Yes, sir, Prime sir!” Both of the mechs by the door were staring at Optimus with wide optics, and the one who had spoken directly to him earlier looked a little awed.
“Aw, they wasn’t hurting my feelings none, big bot.” Jazz turned an easy smile on the Prime. The mechs hadn’t been hurting his feelings, but now that Optimus had chided them, he wouldn’t hear any more of the gossip, either. “You know I don’t take that stuff personal.”
“Regardless, it is unkind at best.” Optimus nodded to him. “May I join you for your evening ration, Commander?”
“Sure, Optimus. Some company’d be nice.” Jazz grinned again, a little more brightly. Having dinner with the Prime would just set off a whole new kind of gossip.
“I knew it!” A third, unfamiliar voice crowed from somewhere across the commissary. They were hushed quickly, but Jazz couldn’t help a small laugh. Some bots would always talk, and he’d always be able to do his job to his absolute best just by listening to the gossip.
And Mirage would be delighted by the fact that someone thought he’d fragged his way to the top.