Transformers: Survival of Defective Products

Chapter 156 Jazz - The Sober Cold Sun

On the seventh day after the Ark arrived in Aquitron, as dusk fell, all the machines were carrying out their tasks in an orderly manner, working to complete the third space bridge.

BICk0 transmitted the protocol to the main review end, and the Judicial Central Control Center, Crystal City, and the Third Space Bridge control console simultaneously established a chain of permissions. Crystal Prism was highly efficient, and the Crystal City access point was successfully connected in a short time.

AZ also provided a lot of information, including but not limited to the elite guards left behind by Alita that could be mobilized, information on the insectoid King Kong, etc., which made the vector stare at him for a long time.

"Where did you get this from?"

AZ said calmly, "This is not a high priority."

She didn't chase after him, but instead slapped him. AZ didn't dodge, letting her slap his arm.

The progress reported by Shockwave was not optimistic. The third space bridge itself could be repaired, and the core was still intact, but the external energy rails were severely damaged.

The Thunder Rescue Team is still working on it. Jack is criticizing the engineering design and suggesting that the designer get a full brain module scan to see if there are any modules inside.

After cursing, I realized the designer was most likely Shockwave, so I cursed even more fluently.

But the most troublesome thing is still the coordinates.

"The coordinates outside Aquitron are insufficient for a stable jump," Shockwave said. "The Quintessons have already blocked the normal jump path. If a forced jump is attempted, the landing point error will be unacceptable."

The robotic dog finally spoke: "To what extent?"

Shockwave: "It could reach Aquitron's outer orbit, or it could reach its interior crust."

The vector looked at the screen, expressionless, and tugged at the fins on its head, the cantilevered fins prompting it to think about what to do.

The Crystal City relay terminal suddenly flashed, and Crystal Prism and BICk0 simultaneously began receiving and processing the data.

"Abnormal transmission." BICk0 looked at the new communication. "From Aquitron, low power, non-standard channel, not the Ark's main channel or the Autobots' public frequency band."

Crystal prism access analysis: "It disguises itself as ambient noise."

BICk0 frowned: "And it's an old-fashioned encryption format."

The vector paused: "Whose?"

BICk0 cracked the signature, paused, and said: "Jazz."

The experimental field quieted down. The jack looked up from the outer guide rail, and Tongtianxiao also looked over.

The message was short and concise.

First paragraph:

Aquitron exhibits signs of persistent cognitive intrusion. This is not traditional mind control, but more akin to narrative overlay.

Some members are reacting abnormally quickly to the Quintesson origin story. I was also affected, but I haven't completely lost my judgment.

Second paragraph:

Optimus Prime's movements have been restricted. The Quintessons have initiated trial proceedings. Their claim to the trial relies on the identity of the creator, rather than verifiable evidence.

That's not right.

Third paragraph:

Requesting support from Cybertron. Avoid open sea routes.

The coordinates of the low-level monitoring jump point within Aquitron have been sent. The time for the coordinates to stabilize is unknown.

Paragraph 4: The formal trial will begin seven Aquitron days later. According to the Ark's arrival time, that is, the fourteenth day.

A series of coordinates follows below the light screen.

The experimental field was silent; everyone knew what those coordinates meant for the third space bridge.

Remembering something, Yin Vector opened an old private frequency band and dialed it.

It was interrupted once, and a faint echo came from the other end the second time.

The vector sensor said, "Received."

There was a brief silence, then the sound of jazz began, low and soft, very quiet, seemingly mixed with the ambient noise of Aquitron.

"...A vector?"

"right."

There was another brief silence on the other end.

"...You're awake."

Looking at the coordinates on the screen, the vector indicator said, "It won't be long."

Jazz gave a restrained, slight smile, which almost went unheard.

"Waking up at just the right time."

The cold, hard anger in Yin Vector's eyes softened slightly: "How much longer can you hold out?"

"If they continue to act convincingly, they can probably hold out until the official trial begins."

"Pack?"

"Pretend I don't think anything's wrong either," the man said. "The curator is perceptive, and the Quintessons are even worse. Something's definitely off here."

Vector frowned and asked, "Have you been exposed?"

"Not at the moment."

"Be very careful and don't act rashly."

A breathy voice came from the other end of the frequency, it was hard to tell if it was laughter or a sigh: "You're the same."

Vector: "You have no right to talk to me now."

"Indeed," the gentleman said, "so let's speak while we still can."

She paused for a second: "Coordinates received. We'll arrive before the trial on the fourteenth day."

"I guess you might be here sooner."

"That's a bit difficult."

Just as Jazz was about to make another joke, he seemed to hear something, and his speech quickened and his voice lowered.

"I have to go back."

"Jazz."

"Um?"

"Stay connected."

Jazz felt his own energy circulation pause for a second: "Received."

Frequency band cutoff. The low-power signal was immediately backed up by BICk0, and the oscillation wave had already dragged that string of coordinates into the Space Bridge calibration model.

"The coordinates are valid," Shockwave said. "If the stabilization time is sufficient, the third space bridge can establish a low-error channel."

Several mechanical dinosaurs on the Steel Cable Squad's side raised their heads at the same time.

Steel Cable: "When?"

"The bridge isn't finished yet." The jack poked his head out from under the tracks, dusting off his hands. "If you damage another stabilizer, the timeline will be pushed back even further."

Steel Cable glanced down at his feet; nothing was in the way.

The vector pondered; they had seven days left.

For an unfinished space bridge, a support team that has just been assembled and is not yet fully formed, a planet monitored by the Quintessons, and Optimus Prime who is being publicly tried, seven days is a number that is maliciously short.

"Repair the bridge," she said, "and prepare the action list."

Tong Tianxiao added: "We need to develop a team division plan after entering. The first objective is to confirm the location of the Ark and Retribution crew members; the second objective is for the Inquisition to intervene; and the third objective is to control the evacuation route."

-

On the other side, after cutting off the frequency, Jazz stood in the shadows of the courtroom's annex, listening to the low hum of the surrounding environment outside.

He first cleaned up the traces, erased the residual signals, restored the communication interface to normal ambient noise recording, and then adjusted his expression.

He was very skilled at these things.

Many people think that jazz is inherently lively.

She is talkative and cheerful. When the atmosphere is tense or things are about to stall, she can easily crack a joke and make the person feel at a loss relax.

That's not entirely false; he does indeed enjoy lively gatherings.

They also liked the music, the lights, and the beat; a bunch of guys were laughing hysterically next to the run-down bar.

A long time ago, he worked as a resident singer in a bar.

The venue was small, the lighting was poor, the energy drinks were mediocre, and the audience was whistling, arguing, and some were so drunk that they spilled half a glass of their "nuclear wine" on the table.

Jazz sat on a small platform, holding a stringed instrument, his fingers plucking the metal strings, and the music flowed out slowly.

He can sing, and he can watch.

Which table is genuinely happy? Which table is about to start a fight? Which person is smiling but doesn't actually want to be talked to? Which person just wants to hear one of their nonsense words tonight?

He could tell.

After singing a song, he can chat with anyone like an old friend.

Once the lights go out, he can turn around and leave, as cleanly as if he had never been there.

Those were carefree days.

The jazz never told anyone about these things; there was no need.

He didn't like it when he spoke about some of his past experiences, as it left a gap for others to spy on him.

He has always been very clear about how much of the excitement he gives out is genuine, how much is just habit, and how much is the safe distance he leaves for others.

The brighter it is outside, the clearer it should be inside.

What first made Aquitron feel uneasy was that he had forgotten something, something that had been casually erased, leaving an overly smooth void.

He didn't know exactly what it was, but he knew he shouldn't accept it so easily.

The Jazz knew himself too well; he was extremely stingy with his trust.

No matter how pleasant his words are or how relaxed his smile is, he will almost never give anything.

So when the Quintessons uttered the word "Creator," the surrounding people accepted it at an abnormally fast pace. Optimus Prime stood silently in the courtroom, not immediately refuting it.

He slowly retreated, step by step, until all the machines could see him but hardly remembered his location.

Keep laughing, keep engaging, play the easygoing, mood-setting jazz jazz who's also captivated by Aquitron's grand narrative—it's all easy.

The difficulty lies in not believing the subtle sense of compliance that arises in your mind at first.

Perhaps they are qualified, perhaps this trial was always meant to happen.

Jazz hated this kind of "maybe," and so he relied on this instinctive emotion to pull himself outward little by little.

Then he remembered the gravitational vector.

First, it's a feeling. Someone with a bad temper, but who rarely takes others' perfunctory attitudes as the truth.

She rarely reciprocated his sweet talk, but she wasn't in a hurry to point it out. Instead, she quietly observed the coldness beneath his cheerful demeanor, the principles he spoke of as if in jest, and the boundaries he was reluctant to let others cross.

This is troublesome.

For a machine that is always very clear-headed, being seen clearly is dangerous.

Jazz always felt he was good at standing in the light.

It wasn't until he met her that he realized some light is so enduring, and not even deliberately displayed.

It's just there; you can't get around it.

The moment he heard her voice coming through the frequency, he almost couldn't say anything easy.

She's awake, that's good.

Footsteps could be heard outside, and the Jazz Optical Glasses remained indistinct even under the goggles.

A Transformer walked out from the other end of the passage, paused for a moment when he saw him, and said, "You're here?"

Jazz laughed, as naturally as if he had just come out for some fresh air.

"We've gone the wrong way," he said. "Aquitron is designed like a maze, thumbs down."

The other person didn't suspect anything, patted him on the shoulder and said, "Go back quickly, the curator is gathering witnesses again."

"Here we are." The jazz followed, his steps and expression relaxed, as if nothing had happened.

The trial officially began on the fourteenth day.

Okay, then he'll act out her role.

The author mentions a detailed explanation of height.