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'I hate these places.' Prowl said as they made their way down the dingy street and Jazz glanced over at him with a frown.

'Why?'

'Why? Look around you, Jazz. They're so...disorganised and chaotic.'

'That's what I like about them.' Jazz said. 'The war's over and it's good to see Cybertron coming back to life again.'

'Hnhh.' Prowl grunted. 'If you call this life...'

'Folks here are trying to do the best they can. Sure, these places are grim, but there are jobs in the Energon Refineries. It's good, honest work...'

'Well, they don't like Autobots here.' Prowl said, wryly as they passed a pair of factory workers who were regarding them with black looks.

'Can you blame them?' Jazz asked. 'Centuries of war tore their homes apart and we're still trying to pick up the pieces. This isn't what I thought victory would be like...'

'You never were good at seeing the big picture.' Prowl said.

'No. That's your forte...' Jazz said and Prowl's eyes narrowed.

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'...nothing.' Jazz said. 'I just wish things had turned out differently, that's all...'

'We don't have that luxury. The war's over, and we need to think about the future. Cybertron needs to be restored. I prefer to deal with that than worry about things I can't change.'

'I guess, I...look out!'

'What...?' Prowl began, just as Jazz tackled him to the ground behind a crash barrier, a laser blast slicing through the air where his head had been.

'Stay down.' Jazz said, pulling out his photon rifle and coming up in a crouch with his back pressed against the meagre shelter of the barrier as, with a wordless yell, three 'Bots charged out of a backstreet towards them. They were heavily built with solid armour plates, the telltales of factory workers, each brandishing a laser pistol.

'Incoming.' Jazz yelled, ducking down as another laser blast blew a chunk out of the barrier, molten shards of metal plinking off his armour.

'Really?' Prowl said, raising his rifle for a surgical shot to the head of a white and blue 'Bot, the pistol clattering from his hand as he fell sideways. The dark grey 'Bot behind him snatched up his fallen pistol, just as a volley of shots from Jazz tore through his chest, the light in his optics fading as he died. The last 'Bot reached the barrier, his pistol levelled at Prowl and his finger tightening on the trigger as Jazz cannoned into him, the laser blast going wide. However, the 'Bot recovered faster than he expected, pressing the pistol against his chest. Desperately, Jazz grabbed his head with both hands, twisting with a metallic crunch and he went limp.

'Dammit...' Jazz muttered, lowering the body to the ground and straightening up. 'Idiots...'

'They made their choice.' Prowl said. 'We need to report this.'

'Yeah...' Jazz said, with one last look back at the three dead 'Bots. 'I'm coming...'

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Any reviews, comments or constructive criticisms are very welcome.