Chapter Text
The line to touch the Matrix and see if it picked you was ordered by caste, so it wasn't surprising that Jazz was way ahead of Orion in line. Shuffling along in a queue for joors wasn't exactly Jazz's idea of a good time, but he knew he'd be missed if he tried to skip. So, here he was, shuffling along like a good mech until it was his turn to touch the Matrix and get no response from it and keep on going. Most mecha scattered after they got free of their state-sanctioned obligation, but Jazz hung around, waiting for Orion to get done so they could go do something more interesting. He didn't know exactly what yet, but it was a pretty long list compared to waiting in line for joors.
Sentinel Prime had been chosen by the Matrix when he'd removed it from Zeta's body (so they were told, Jazz had his own thoughts on that, but they weren't exactly safe to say aloud) vorn ago. Zeta had been the last Prime chosen this way, and that meant the last time Cybertron had seen a parade like this was Ages ago. There hadn't been a Senate then, just the priests and Jazz idly wondered what it would have been like to try out for the Primacy back then. Probably just as much fun as it was now.
Jazz spent the time he had to idle waiting for Orion thinking of what they could do after this. It wasn't exactly a celebration day, but it was still a holiday, so there'd probably be something fun to do or at least discounted drinks somewhere. The Archives were closed, so Orion would have the day off work and —
Jazz's musings were interrupted by a sudden shout from the priests crowded on stage around the Matrix. He'd just had time to react when the commotion was followed by a burst of light.
Bomb! Jazz went on alert instantly, shoving his way back through the stunned crowd, only belatedly realizing that the light hadn't been accompanied by any noise or a blast wave. Not a bomb, then, so what the hell was it, and where was Orion…? And another great question: who was the big guy holding the Matrix, and where the frag had he come from?
That was a question for later since the priests and their security seemed to have whatever was going on under control. Jazz wanted to find Orion, but he scanned the crowd and didn't see him. It didn't look like anyone was in real distress, or Jazz would've had a pretty good idea of where to look.
Aw, frag it; subtlety was for later once Jazz had found Orion and figured out what was happening, preferably in that order. It wasn't like he'd be the only one shouting.
"Orion!" Jazz yelled, and the big guy immediately looked over at him. Jazz's second yell died in his voice box when he got a load of those optics. They were bigger and in a slightly different face, but Jazz would know those optics anywhere.
One question was answered, but it had spawned dozens more.
Jazz wasn't exactly clear on how Orion had convinced the priests to let him come with them on their way back to the Temple at the Primal Palace, but it had seemed to involve being gently persistent and refusing to move until they did.
While Jazz had some idea of what the Matrix picking a new Prime should involve, at least theoretically since, y'know, it hadn't been done in public in almost forever, the priests didn't seem to be carrying the rituals out. That was fine by Jazz, or it would have been, except it almost seemed like they were looking for a way out of accepting an unassuming archivist with…troublesome connections as Prime. Jazz, who was fully aware he'd be considered one of those connections if he was a little less sneaky, was determined to stick close in case someone got the bright idea of trying something.
It didn't take long before Ratchet showed up, insisting on giving the new Prime a once-over and Jazz had never been so happy to see the no-nonsense doctor in his life. Jazz wasn't the only one who knew what was supposed to happen when a new Prime was chosen, and Ratchet might've seen it happen for all he knew. Ratchet shooed the milling priests, monks, and various functionaries out and turned to look at Orion and Jazz.
"Is he staying?" Ratchet asked, gesturing towards Jazz. "You've got the right to have someone with you during an exam, but I'll kick him out too if you say so."
"No," Orion said, sounding relieved to have at least a little reprieve from the crazy that had been going on lately. "I'd like Jazz to stay."
"Alright." Ratchet grabbed a chair, swung it a little closer to the seated pair and sat, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his chin on his folded hands. Notably, he was not doing a medical exam, and Jazz commented on this. Ratchet snorted dismissively. "As if the Matrix would raise a Prime and not repair and improve everything it could."
"Wouldn't the priests know that?" Jazz asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.
"Yeah, you'd think, wouldn't you?" Ratchet asked rhetorically. "I doubt any of these mechs have ever seen a real Prime. I never examined Zeta, so I don't have a baseline for comparison, but anyone who thinks about it will realize the whole story about how Sentinel became Prime doesn't scan right."
Orion and Jazz exchanged glances: it was heresy to suggest that, but that didn't mean it wasn't true.
"Anyway," Ratchet continued, sitting back. "I know you don't need an exam, but you might need an audial, and you definitely needed a chance to think for a few kliks. I saw the whole thing, I know how long it took me to get here, and I know you haven't had a moment to react. So. There are a couple of rooms off this one. Why don't you take one of them, use some time to really realize what's just happened to you and I'll stay out here and chase off anyone who tries to bother you before you're ready. Alright?"
Orion looked immensely grateful. "Thank you, Ratchet."
Jazz went with him, and when the door closed behind them, Orion sat down hard on one of the couches, although Jazz wasn't sure he even realized what he was sitting on. Jazz perched on a decorative table and looked up at him, which was a weird feeling. Jazz didn't say anything, though, giving Orion a moment to think.
They sat in silence for a while, Orion probably processing what had happened and Jazz letting him do it. It was several kliks before either of them spoke.
"I imagine this wasn't what you planned for us today," Orion said, lifting his head to look at Jazz.
A short laugh escaped Jazz. "Not exactly. Kinda planned for us to go drinking if you really wanna know. Probably still can: I'm sure they've got the good stuff stashed around here somewhere."
Orion managed a smile. "Probably not becoming of my new station."
"Yeah, probably not," Jazz said. He got up and went over to his lover. "How're you feeling about all this so far?"
Orion sighed and reached out an arm to Jazz, who immediately leaned into him. Orion was big enough now for Jazz to fit in his lap, so Jazz did since Orion liked closeness when he was upset. Maybe not upset this time, not exactly, but definitely emotional and who could blame him? Jazz was going to be pretty emotional too, once he had some space to himself, but he hadn't been zapped into a new form and function by a mystical artifact. He'd handle things on his own, later.
"That's going to take some getting used to," Orion observed as Jazz leaned into his chest. The now-bigger mech sighed again. "Among other things."
"Yeah."
Jazz heard some noises on the other side of the door and guessed it was Ratchet shooing priests, officials, and the like away. Good to know that Orion had one ally outside of Jazz.
Megatronus would probably call himself an ally, but Jazz was still keeping a skeptical optic on that one. Mech might be genuine, but right now, it could go either way as far as Jazz was concerned. Something behind that mech's words and how he looked at anyone who disagreed with him put Jazz on edge. Whatever it was, Jazz hoped he didn't have to be the one to tell him about Orion's ascension.
It might be interesting to be the glitch-mouse in the maintenance drone hatch for that conversation, though.
"Ratchet's on our side, but I don't know how long he'll be able to hold them off," Jazz warned. "Going to have to go deal with it sometime."
"I know. A few kliks more?"
"Sure, babe." Jazz rested his head against Orion's chest: the familiar hum of his spark had a little extra something behind it that Jazz guessed he would just have to get used to. "I'm not going anywhere."