Chapter Text
Other than the unplanned addition to the Ambassadorial team things were going smoothly. Pretty much all they needed to do was learn how to behave according to which of the three major realms they were in. All else was handled by their host, the Warlord. Unlike when the young Prime arrived Wheeljack wasn’t introduced at once, Soundwave had dutifully contacted Jazz and the two had cordially decided that introductions could wait till the fare thee well party two orn before the procession left the Capital of Kaon.
This was the orn, this was the dark cycle and Jazz, a much more relaxed Jazz, talked quietly with the excited inventor, reminding him of a few etiquettes that needed to be remembered. They had even received another set of knives so the Inventor wasn’t going to stick out like an injured digit! Jazz had to admit that he was eternally grateful for the Prime and the impression he had made on the Warlord, things just seemed to run so much more smoothly now!
“And remember, wait till the rest of us have selected our knives if you are in any sort of doubt, yeah?” he sat back, glancing at Prowl who was looking especially hot and serene… ah well, later, before looking at the fourth mech there.
“All good?”
“All good Jazz,” Optimus replied, he was much more confident and comfortable with being invited to Darkmount for an event, and this time was not as formal as the last one, a casual meal rather than a full formal one. Something he was very glad for with Wheeljack with them.
“Let’s have a good event then, supposedly this is gonna be a bash ta talk of!” Jazz grinned, quietly looking forward to talking to some of the attendees. This was only for the ones going on the procession and he had long ago found that he could speak more than civilly with most of those that the Warlord favoured. Kind of funny really, but eh!
And down they went, deep into Darkmount, deeper than he’d actually been before and they were ushered into a very… cosy sort of cavernous chamber. A little more like the gaming rooms and less like the ballrooms. The gathering was notably smaller and the settings much less strict and formal.
Optimus of course had been further down into Darkmount before, though he guessed that they were only several levels above the private levels, he was not sure how much further was the Warlords levels, but did not spend much thought on it either as he was immediately greeted by a couple mech he had met during other events. Optimus let himself be swept away though did his best to still keep track of Wheeljack.
The dinner went smoothly, the introduction just as much though Wheeljack seemed to be vibrating with questions. He was aware enough to keep them in and Jazz was forever grateful to the bubbly scientist.
At some point after he lost track of Optimus and had only a cursory idea of where Wheeljack was, but he wasn’t worried. At this point their Prime had a better understanding of the flows of these parties than even he did.
“Jou are zhe Prime?” the voice held an odd accent, and the tone was just on the edge of aggressive, coupled with the big, dark coloured and sandy frame it was inherently intimidating.
“I am,” Optimus agreed, turning to face the mech speaking to him, immediately recognising him, both from holos but also the colours on the boxes Bumblebee received, “You must be General Blitzwing. To what do I owe the honour?” despite tone and appearance, Optimus remained calm, he had no reason to fear anyone here this evening.
“I…” Blitzwing hesitated, “I have heard zat jou are friendly vith us.”
It was more a statement than a question but the expectant pause was clearly there for the smaller mech to fill it with something, anything.
“I seek to learn, to understand. To help those cast aside by Iacon find a place here. And to do that I do seek friendship,” Optimus agreed, not sure in what way Blitzwing had meant.
“Ach,” Blitchwing nodded, clearly not really comfortable or at least plagued by something, “I am attempting to start a courting vith zhe little Bumblebee. I vish to know vhat sort of courting he vould expect from another Iaconian.”
“Ah… Well, unless given permission by the council, Iaconians are not allowed to engage in any behaviour that might lead to mating. So there are not any courting rituals,” Optimus replied feeling uncomfortable with the idea, now realising just how wrong it truly was. “He likes your gifts, he just doesn’t understand your intentions.”
“I’m zorry vhat?” Blitzwing stared, clearly deeply confused.
Optimus nodded sadly, “Yes the Autobot council even controls that. But Ambassador Jazz does not care for upholding those rules.”
“...” the mech seemed to be struggling a little and suddenly there was a very odd noise, like an aborted transformation sequence and the face just… shifted, from a light blue with a special optic to a darkish red with a distinct square chin.
“Are you tellin’ me I have no way of making that little tease take me serious!?” the voice was deeper, and a good deal louder, the strange accent completely gone.
Optimus suddenly understood exactly what Sunstorm and Acid Storm had been telling him about the General. Standing his ground and remaining calm, Optimus shook his helm, “Not at all. There is means for him to understand, just no way for the culture he comes from to help.”
“That is useless!” the bark was aggressive though there was no attempt to get physical, “how am I ever to make that~,” a grumbled unhappy litany followed, clearly not meant to be heard before the odd noise sounded again and the pale blue face came back.
“I apologise for disturbing jou.”
“It’s alright. Bumblebee is more confused than anything else. Perhaps if you sent him a message to explain your feelings on the matter and your intentions?” Optimus tried suggesting, knowing that a face to face confrontation might not be the best of ideas, though it truly could go either way.
"Es zhat an acceptable step zo zake?" Blitzwing looked thoughtful.
“I believe so. Iaconians do not understand any Decepticon courting behaviours, not unless taught. Much is lost in that misunderstanding,” Optimus nodded decisively. If it was Kaonite to Kanoite courting both would understand, but as it was, far too much was being lost in Bee not knowing, not understanding. Breaking tradition or not Bumblebee deserved to know what was going on and to hear it from Blitzwing himself.
“I zee,” Blitzwing nodded, then gave a short, shallow bow, “Zhank jou for zhe zime.”
“It has been an honour, General,” Optimus replied, bowing deeper in return, though not quite as deeply as he would bow to Lord Megatron.
“Well wasn't that interesting,” a smooth cool voice interjected snidely from behind the Autobot, “I wasn’t aware that relationship advice had become a reason to be invited to events such as this?”
Optimus half turned while stepping to one side so he could see both the General and the new speaker at the same time. The seeker was immediately recognisable. Starscream.
“Winglord,” Optimus bowed exactly as low as Sunstorm had instructed and not a moment longer than required.
“Ah, so it has education in other things too,” Starscream said to Blitzwing, earning him another of the weird noises when the General’s face shifted again, this time to a black one with a strangely formed mouth.
“Ah Ah Ahhh!” the voice was high and nasal, a rasp underneath, “don’t misstep, My Screaming Lord, don’t shoot at things that can shoot back!”
Optimus snapped his fields into a battle lockdown, managing to hide the bristle at the rude words, though moments later he was glad for it for another reason, to hide his mirth at General Blitzwing’s comment.
“Excuse me,” Optimus said quietly and stepped away, he had already said his respects and his conversation with Blitzwing had reached a conclusion, so no one could call him out for being rude. Besides, Starscream was not even addressing him. He moved over to where Wheeljack was currently sequestered.
“Hey, what is that all about?” Wheeljack didn’t seem wildly curious despite his question of the screechy telling off someone was receiving. What he seemed to be interested in was the nearby pillar holding up its part of the ceiling.
“This place is amazing! I would have loved to meet whomever engineered this place, and Jazz, uh, the Ambassador told me that this isn’t even the deepest level? Can you imagine!”
“Mmm, yes as I understand it is several more levels before the Warlord’s private levels. You could possibly meet with those who maintain it. As for the argument, I really have no clue,” Optimus shrugged and smiled, looking at the pillar and the connection to the ceiling for himself. It was very impressive. He decided to stay with Wheeljack for a bit at least.
"I'd absolutely love to have a chat with those fellows! But it's not going to be happening soon as I understand what's going on," the helmfins on Wheeljack's helm flashed in a subdued fashion.
“Apparently the Vosian architecture is equally impressive in its own way, and if I understand right, Tesaurian is equally as unique too,” Optimus lightly nudged Wheeljack with his fields, hoping to lighten their newest member's mood.
"Really?" Wheeljack brightened, literally, and turned his helm to look at Optimus, "they don't have uniform architecture? Marvellous, maybe we can… or not… huh…"
“Not at all, it is dictated by location, weather and frame type needs,” Optimus explained, grinning at the others exuberance. “I am sure you can ask.”
"That is so awesome! I wish the building council would allow that in greater Iacon! The region near the desert border always needs repair and repaint. Building to suit the place would cut the maintenance budget in half, more than ha~"
"You!" the screech could be heard over all other noise, "how dare you walk away from me? The Winglord of Vos!"
Optimus groaned quietly before schooling his features and turning, standing at parade rest. He did not make the mistake of attempting to reply to that. He was simply glad that it had taken this long after his own introduction before meeting the volatile seeker, and that he had the benefit of having befriended his brother.
"YOU A~" Starscream was pointing at the Iaconian with a very armed arm, though the nullray wasn't powered. Then the screech cut off abruptly and the seeker's wings made a complicated gesture of utter confusion.
"This is fantastic! Can I see," the question was almost preceded by the blunt digited hands pulling the pointing arm down, "amazing, I have never seen this design before. Wait! Wait, wait, wait, this isn't a blaster? What does it do!"
Optimus stared dumbfounded for a moment before sending a ping to Jazz that a situation was occurring.
“Winglord Starscream, this is Wheeljack, the newest team member out of Iacon. He is an engineer,” Optimus gave the introduction, not sure if he should bodily pull the inventor away or see how this was going to proceed.
"It is a nullray, it~" the supersilius sneer was cut off before it could probably begin.
"You made a nullray work? On such a small scale? How is it powered? It looks like it's wired into, it is wired into your frame!"
It was debatable if either even noticed Optimus talking.
Still shocked, Optimus continued to watch, though he also tried to make sure he was ready for if he needed to get Wheeljack out of there. Despite himself he was also fascinated. He had heard of nullrays but as the inventor had said, on much larger scales.
"Well… tha' ain't normal…" Jazz commented, but quietly, to the Prime. His helm was tilted as if he was analysing the situation for exit strategies. He was actually.
The pair talking, talking!, was the centre of a circle of very confused spectators. Some of the confusion was morphing into incredulity and a sort of fatalistic amusement.
“I’ll grab ‘Jack if it turns nasty, or at least distract Starscream so you can get him out. Since it seems that he wanted to ‘talk’ with me as it was. And I have the training to at least hold him off before help arrives,” Optimus suggested quietly to Jazz, though part of him was beginning to doubt that the situation would turn that way. Wheeljack was unknowingly stroking Starscream’s ego, which might just be enough to save their plating here.
"Ya will...uh," Jazz turned quiet, for a second looking almost panicked and then resuming his ambassadorial expression with an effort.
The Warlord had arrived and was surveying the spectacle with a cool expression before circling around to where Jazz and Optimus stood.
"A word, Ambassador, Prime," he gestured towards one of the big, arched openings into a smaller space.
"O'cause, m'Lord," Jazz said, optics dimming a second as he called Prowl to take care of the Wheeljack affair.
“My Lord,” Optimus dipped his helm, not wishing to garner themselves attention when it was clear that the Warlord did not want that. He did not hesitate, though he did have a measure of reluctance to move away from Wheeljack.
They were barely inside the opening when Megatron looked down, still walking, and spoke.
"Your subordinate will be fine, Starscream may be volatile but not so much that he will attempt to murder a fellow scientist," his tone was dry, "next time, call on Lugnut, little Prime."
“Thank you, my Lord. I will keep that in mind,” Optimus replied, relief showing through in the slump of his posture and his fields.
"Thank ya kindly, m'Lord," Jazz added his own thanks, though he did wonder silently what Lugnut could do about Starscream.
"The same counts for you, and the rest of your entourage, Ambassador," Megatron added thoughtfully, then muttering, "I am beginning to think Starscream is counting on ignorance for these little scenes of his."
“I apologise for the disruption this has caused to the evening,” Optimus felt that it had to be said, feeling contrite for his part in it despite having had very little control in how things had turned out.
"Do not take this upon you, this is all Starscream," Megatron actually laughed, though it was debatable what part he found amusing, "I will suggest you make this a short party. I'd hate it if the procession was delayed because of a preventable injury."
"O'cause, m'Lord," Jazz readily agreed. They had planned it so anyway since they were travelling with a transport in the morning and he'd wanted all of them to meet it early.
“We would not wish that either. The evening has been otherwise enjoyable,” Optimus added, not willing to let this scene with the Winglord to ruin the rest of the evening.
"Yes, Starscream certainly has a way with changing that," Megatron said dryly, "now here, I believe this may be of a calmer climate and not a place Starscream is likely to find you."
"Warlord, and the little Iaconian Ambassador!" Gashfang's voice boomed with pleasure and a touch of glee, "come over here, I have a question!"
“And already has good company present,” Optimus grinned, bowing politely to Megatron before moving over to the beastmech priest, though he kept his chassis angled to keep the Warlord included if he desired to remain.
Megatron might have desired it, but he had other things to do at such events than indulge himself. His farewell was polite but firm.
"Ambassador Gashfang," Jazz returned the greeting, no little amount of glee in his own tone. On the visit the mech and his mate had been on to the Iaconian embassy seat he had found he had a lot in common with the boisterous mech.
While they had not stayed late, Lord Megatron had been correct in saying that this section was a good place to hide from a certain seeker. The conversation may have started out somewhat embarrassing, however by the time they had to leave it had become quite comfortable. Optimus was content as they made their way back to the embassy, listening to Wheeljack gush about Starscream’s nullrays and architecture and all manner of things that Optimus himself did not understand.