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When they’d gotten cut off from the main force, Jazz hadn’t been as worried as he maybe should have been. He and Prowl had gotten out of much tighter scrapes than getting stuck behind Decepticon lines with the remains of a squad that was running low on ammunition, so he had just mentally shrugged and set to planning their daring escape with one processing thread monitoring the field around them.
That was probably the only reason they’d managed to duck behind cover–well, he’d ducked and dragged Prowl with him–before the shell had landed. Two of the three mechs with them hadn’t been so lucky, but the third had tumbled into their shelter behind him and then looked at them with huge, terrified optics as another shell fell nearby.
“Why are they shelling behind their own line?” The mech asked, curling in on himself and making as small a target as possible.
“At a guess?” Jazz ducked down as another shell whistled overhead. “They know we’re here. Prowl?”
“Ninety nine percent probability, yes.” The tactician had a hand to his helm, indicating that he was on the comm with someone, though who and how, Jazz didn’t know. “We are instructed to lay low and, I quote, not get dead. Extraction is incoming.”
“Extraction?” Their trooper, frag Jazz had to ask his name, sounded mystified.
To be fair, Jazz felt mystified. No one extracted anyone, not even officers, from a field where the Cons were actively shelling. “Guess so. Hey, kid, what do I call you?”
“Uh,” the mech blinked, reinforcing the idea that he was just a scared kid. When he had a minute, Jazz was going to pull his file and see if someone had sent them out with a bunch of freshpaints for this fight. “Sway, sir.”
“Okay, Sway, Prowl says we’re getting extracted, so we are. You stay with us, and we’ll get you out.”
Sway nodded and curled down a little tighter, somehow, as another shell landed just outside their shelter.
”Prowl, tell me we aren’t lying to this kid,” Jazz opened a comm line to the other mech, hoping that it wouldn’t be enough to give the Cons targeting data.
”We are not. I am coordinating our extraction with Blaster, Trailbreaker and the Aerialbots as we speak.” Prowl’s reply was slightly distracted, but that just put truth to his words. If he was putting on a brave face for Sway, or even Jazz himself, he wouldn’t sound distracted. ”The Aerialbots, and therefore Superion, should arrive within four joors.”
”Great.” Another shell landed next to them, even closer than the last. The Cons were either getting a better fix on them, or they were stupidly lucky today. ”Hey, if we survive those four joors, you wanna go catch a vid with me? Mirage has his little pirate cinema set up in the basement, finally.”
”I would enjoy that, thank you for the invitation.” Prowl looked at him with a small smile for a moment, and Jazz couldn't help but grin back even though the other mech had taken him by surprise. He really hadn’t expected a yes, when he had mostly been asking because he didn’t want to go to the Well with the regret of not being brave enough to do it. ”Three joors, and stay down.”
“Kid, stay down!” At Prowl’s admonishment, Jazz looked back to Sway, in time to grab his leg before he could make a fatal mistake. Sway looked back at him with coolant tears streaming down his face. “We got three joors according to Prowl’s contact. It’s gonna be okay.”
“We’re going to die!” Sway replied with a sob.
“No we ain’t. Prowl’s got us, Sway.” A klik later, Silverbolt screamed overhead, moving so quickly that a sonic boom followed him through the air, shattering Jazz’s visor and throwing another wave of shells off course. Jazz immediately forgave their air commander for the visor, when the shells detonated far from their hidey hole.
“Hm. A full klik earlier than anticipated.” Prowl didn’t stand up, but he was watching the Aerialbot commander circle back with a faint smile. “Gentlemechs, our extraction will be here shortly.”
“Best news I’ve heard all day.” Jazz smiled back.
“When we return to base, ask Mirage if he has a copy of The Storming of Ridgeway Temple.”
As Silverbolt screamed past them again, Jazz’s laugh was lost in the scream of lasers and another sonic boom.
They really were going to be all right.