Universe: G1 AU
Characters: Smokescreen, Jazz, Hot Rod, Optimus Prime, Enigma (OC), Devcon
Notes: part of the same universe as the last one shots! But this was actually started around the time of Walk on lonely roads. Finally getting back to it. This is placed a bit later than Across the Lines.

Smokescreen hopped down the transport, a spring in his steps. He let his doorwings flutter to his spark's content. No more rigid wing property! This was Iacon!
He looked around at the bots going back and forth, chatting, yelling and just going rushing to whatever they needed to do. It was better than his creation day. Unable to stop grinning, the young praxian glanced a last time at the position he had signed on his holomap before jumping right in the crowd. He had all the time to find his way to the palace of the Prime after all. He could just start walking toward it and in the meantime look around for some fun.

Maybe it was the surprisingly strong high grade in that red odd bar where he had stopped, music rocking blasted by a very happy, friendly cassette master.  Maybe it was the tiredness for the travel, especially for his sore doorwings.
All he knew was that he got the instructions horribly wrong, as he stood in a half destroyed grid where no one moved but a few petrorats and a couple of wary half-feral younglings. Optics dim and narrow as they almost bared denta at him, armor dim and dusted.
Smokescreen kept a servo on the sheath of his weapon, the one he still kept with him even after leaving the cops.
With a brother like him, better being armed, Prowl insisted. And in that moment, for once, he was glad for his brother's foresight, as those bots actually shrunk away from him only seeing where his servo was.

"Mah mech. Ya ain't needed elsewhere?"

No thoughts. Weapon out, aim blindly, fire. The shot going lost somewhere ahead, as he didn't even aim at the voice. As the black and white mech who had spoken now stood in front of him, no scratch and no fear on his face. A smug grin in place, a twinkle in the blue visor.

"Ah, another bot killed by a stray bullet." the mech hummed as Smokescreen froze, honestly terrified. Because he had not felt anything and now that mech had his weapon in his servos. 'well, it happens. But now I take this "
Disarmed and with that guy grinning at him like that, the young praxian just wished he could go back home and hide behind Prowl like when he was a sparkling.
But then the stranger lowered the gun.
" Name's Jazz by the way, how rude of me not introducing myself. Ah was supposed ta meet you in base, but ya don't know how ta read. So Ah s'pose, Ah should come find ya. '
Smokescreen trembled. Not feeling less threatened, even not in shooting range.
" You are an Autobot?" he asked in disbelief. That mech felt, even more than looked, dangerous.
It felt like his brother.
Sitting at his desk, doorwings held high, optics hard like Cybertronium.
The mech's smile was just like Prowl's frown.
Calculating if it was easier to drop you in a smelting pit.
'Yeah mech.' 'Jazz' snorted " of course Ah am. What's up, suspicious? Good mech. It saves lives in war. But ya don't have to worry with me. C'mon, let's go, the Prime's waiting."
Smokescreen should run. He knew how these things went down. But he didn't know where to go. Both now, and in the long run.
He was never returning to Praxus.
So Smokescreen followed.

Turning left where Smokescreen had turned right the small polyhexian, if his antennas were anything to go by, led him through the city with ease. Like Smokescreen in the gambling grid. That mech knew where he was going. And the Praxian didn't know if being comforted or more terrified. Was he really leading him to base?

Smokescreen was just a moment from running when he saw the first checkpoint. The mech had not lied. The Prime's insignia was literally everywhere. On transports parked, on mechs. As one smallish red and yellow mech scanned his frame, Smokescreen could observe it with attention. That regular Autobot symbol with stripes on its sides.
'Only that, for your insignia? "he snorted " I would have gone with something more flashy. "
The young mech grinned even as he still focused on making sure he wasn't armed. Jazz holding his only weapon.
" Finally! I told Magnus hundreds of times, he should have added flames. But no, he is so boring! So I painted them on me instead. " he almost squealed. Well he had quite some flames on him, now that Smokescreen looked at what he thought were just red spots.
" They look very nice. " he agreed, and the youngling beamed at him before stepping back.
" All clean Jazz. Name's Hot Rod, welcome! I like you already!" he chirped, and despite all the Praxian found himself grinning back.
"Smokescreen." he introduced himself "see you mech. We could get a drink one day or the other."
He then followed his escort, who had been grinning at the young guard the whole time.
"He's a bright lad." Jazz hummed, looking relaxed as he let him inside "of course he'd try to make friends with another newcomer. But you're not in yet."
Yeah, Smokescreen knew. But as they walked through the halls of the base, the Praxian narrowed his optics.
That was a game he had to win.

They arrived in front of the meeting room, and Jazz gestured at him to knock himself. Smokescreen did just that. The sound echoing in the oddly silent hall. Unlike the other places where bots went back and forth, this was so silent.
The door opened a moment later, and Smokescreen had to stop his wings from trembling at the massive mech in front of him. The Prime himself stood there, red and blue flashy armor taller than him and his siblings one on the other.

'Lieutenant Smokescreen, good to see you found your way here even without a guide. " the mech said softly" I apologize Jazz couldn't accompany you until here, he had a shift. "

Smokescreen blinked.
" Sir he did accompany me-" he said turning to where the small mech was.
Only that he wasn't there anymore. And was nowhere in sight either.

" It's like always Optimus. Trying to avoid shifts. " another voice shook him out of the shocked state. A black mech walking in his view, beside the Prime. "I told you he's the worst to try out Wheeljack's cloak generator."

The Prime sighed shaking his helm.
"Well it's done. Come on inside, Smokescreen. Let's talk."
And Smokescreen, with a last glance at the nothingness behind him, followed.

- - -

Smokescreen slumped in his new quarters in the tactical department wing. Optics shutting for a moment as he met the warm berth. At least that was comfortable.
He trembled slightly, taking out his data pad, opening a call like . It took only a handful of seconds.
" Hi Devcon. ' he murmured softly as his old friend came into view, his typical grin on the face.

" Mech! What's that look? They didn't take you? " the blue mech asked, his smile starting to disappear.

" No they did. I have to do my trial period but if I do my job right, I will stay." the Praxian reassured, but couldn't bring a true smile on his face.

"But that's great! Why are you so sad? You should be out drinking!" his bud exclaimed, "Do I need to come grab you? '

Smokescreen smiled weakly at his friend:" I am happy, just worried a bit. I met this weird mech who is a soldier here. I don't know, he gives me an odd vibe. You know, the happy creepy one? "
Devcon frowned.
" Yeah. " he said quietly "I was sparked in Kaon, after all. Does he want to hurt you? Did you see him do things he wouldn't want you to see?"

Smokescreen shook his helm. After all he saw nothing but what the mech had blatantly wanted him to see, it was only that... Creepy vibe that maybe he caught on too quickly. He was too used to see it.

" Then just mind your own business. " the mech said softly "you'll be a tactician right? Not like you have to fight on the field with him. '

Despite all, that advice managed to get a smile out of Smokescreen. Or, more accurately, an acutely amused smirk.
" Never thought I would ever hear you say "mind your business" Dev. " he snorted relaxing slightly as he moved a little on the berth so his wings wouldn't ache.

" Well if you were a though mech like me, I'd tell you to investigate, but you are the desk jockey of the group! " the mech snickered.

" Am not! " Smokescreen snapped back but he couldn't keep his smirk from growing "I just prefer thinking. You should learn it too. It's a fascinating skill."

'Hey! I know how to think! Just remember it too late... Sometimes."

A knock stopped Smokey's next snark, and the peace he had gained shattered like a fragile crystal. His spark shook as he looked down at the slightly worried mech.
' Well, I think I need to go. " he said quietly. "see you later Dev.'
As he closed the call, and approached the door, he could almost see the bright visor he just knew was waiting for him on the other side. And probably his own pointed gun.
He opened his door slowly, hoping to be able to hold the mech off. He doubted, his fighting skills sucked, but better than nothing. He braced himself, ready to defend himself.

"Finally mech! You took forever! '

Smokescreen rebooted his optics as a red and yellow mech stood in front of him with a grin.
"Hot Rod?"

"Aw call me Rodders! You are one of us now, we need to celebrate!" the young mech squeaked bouncing from one pede to the other.

"They didn't take me in yet." the Praxian objected. His more superstitious side, and you weren't a gambler or a praxian if you weren't a bit superstitious, gave him an uneasy feeling. He wanted to scratch his ball bearings.

"And? So we can celebrate now and when you get in! ' the youngling replied and grabbed his arm, starting dragging him away.
"Rodders! Hot Rod stop I need to at least close the d- oh whatever." Smokescreen yelped as the door closed automatically "but it isn't locked!"

"it locks automatically, you don't want to leave stuff out for cons to get huh? Red would fritz" Rodders replied all too cheerfully while continuing to drag Smokey away like some sort of puppet. Or recalcitrant sparkling.

'I just can't get away from this?' Smokescreen asked, his resistance fading a little as he started running out of excuses.
Hot Rod turned to grin at him. That grin was all too cheerful, he had never seen a so happy soldier.
"Nope!"
Smokescreen sighed, giving up.
"Fine." he muttered and followed, trying to focus on some good time. It was the freedom he had searched coming there. He should try to enjoy it.

As they walked toward the exit though, his doorwings flicked feeling someone on the edge of their sensors.
Smokescreen knew, Jazz was there. He turned to look around, as they were just about to get out.

Only calm, almost expressionless guards were in the room.

Author's note.
Smokey coming to Iacon! That's something I had intention to write for so long, but it was very hard.