Chapter Text
It's late. The city lights are beautiful. Jazz would love to lay some slick moves on this wonderful, glittering night. The bot crouches in the middle of some dank back ally, examining a few prints on the wall. To most 'bots the night is an average one, their time preoccupied with the nightly grind.
Jazz bites his dente as a comm comes in. The bot finds himself standing up and loosening up his shoulders. "Gotcha big bot, sir." the conversation had be brief. Get Sentinel home, he's going in tomorrow.
Now, to Jazz's knowledge Sentinel had asked for tomorrow off. He frowns on the inside before silently hopping off the floor and onto the building above. Iacon is a very nice city, all hard edges and glimmering metal. It shouldn't be difficult to find Sentinel. Right.
Right.
Jazz smiles as he makes his way to the Elite Guard's barracks. It's kinda funny for them to all live together, sometimes annoying as the pit. There's a strict no-high grade policy going on though, so he's extra quiet while sneaking down the halls. Most of the bots rechargin are recharging because they have work tomorrow.
Something at the back of his processor tells him this would make a great horror movie, the little thing reminds him of someone. Jazz can't think of who that someone could be though. Either way, his steps are smooth in the cool lights. They're barely blue, what with how low the levels are. Numbers pass by one by one, until he reaches the correct one.
Normally, Jazz would knock. It's only polite, but this is some official business. It's the dead of night and Sentinel hasn't been answering his coms. Hinged fingers dance at the keypad, but he doesn't touch it. The thing blinks, spits out some strange glyphs and flicks on a little green light. Before he purloins his way into the room, Jazz smiles at the door.
The main room is empty of anyone, just a sparsely decorated table and seats. Jazz does a once over, checks the cramped window and then heads to the hall. Prep block's empty, so are all of the rooms. Sentinel isn't home.
Jazz isn't disturbed, the guy probably went out to have a nice night instead of staying at home and recharging all alone. With a little smile he slips out, not disturbing a single fiber in Sentinel's abode.
He's about to leave the building when he notices someone's still manning the front desk. "Hey there."
The bot gives him a curious look over her datapad, "Hello?"
Said secretary's a cute little minibot that Jazz would have to get to know later. Wallflower informants are always important. "Have you seen Sentinel Prime around?"
"I think he went out drinking for the night."
That earns a weird look from Jazz, "You sure about that?"
"Uh, he told me before he left that I should take any calls of his …" she rubs at one of her antennae.
"Does he get over fueled often?"
"No, no." oh she's a bad liar as well Jazz thinks.
His steps are soft, and nearly soundless. "Any idea when he'll be back, or where he's gone?"
"I don't know where, but sometimes I have to walk him in around three."
"In the morning?"
"Yes."
"Dang, well thanks for your help little 'bot"
It's a big city, Jazz finds himself prodding more sleepy workers in the dead of the night. No sign of Sentinel at any of the more popular motor houses. There's not a single indicator of where he could of gone, Jazz is in some deep slag.