Fic: Matters of Medical Necessities (Chapter 2)
Author's Notes: This freaking plotbunny has eaten a hole through my brain. I do not write this fast. Ever. It's physically impossible. And from the looks of it, this story is no longer just crack. It's going to become a full-blown story with an actual plot, instead of just the crazy nonsense I'd originally planned. And it's even spawned a side story, god help me. *facepalm*
Please forgive any technical Trekkie inaccuracies. I'm new to this fandom, and I have yet to accumulate the wealth of knowledge similar to what I've garnered for the Giant Fighting Robots fandom. (Yes, I'm making that a noun, lol!) I made up the stardate, so if it's wrong, I'm sorry.
Disclaimer: I checked the other day, and much to my dismay, I found I don't own Transformers or Star Trek. Does being a shameless Karl Urban fangirl count? Nope? Dammit, man! That sucks!
Chapter 2
"Jesus Christ on Mt. Everest! What the hell?!" McCoy yelped and jumped back as the large being reached out one hand. Bones was sure he was going to be squished by a few metric tons of angry…something, but instead of the expected pain, the alien reached into his chest cavity and began fiddling. Lights soon began to click on, one by one, and though he was no engineer, Bones did know enough to recognize the whirl of mechanical systems activating.
The light around what Kirk and McCoy thought were the eyes brightened when fluids and power snaked back through the alien's systems. Flexing its neck from side to side, it regarded the two humans carefully.
Jim leaned over and whispered, "Bones, no sudden moves."
"Jim, I don't think I could move right now if my life depended on it," McCoy responded, equally hushed.
Later, when McCoy wasn't literally afraid for his life, he would recall that the new alien very nearly executed a perfect eyeroll in the direction of the doctor and the captain. When it finally spoke, Bones was pleasantly surprised at the impeccable standard it used. Unfortunately for the doctor, that was really the only high point of his new acquaintance.
"I asked you two a question, and that usually means a response. Why are you animals still standing on my foot? Kindly get off before I throw you off!" The large alien tilted his head to the side, the silvery metal plates that looked to nearly resemble eyebrows furrowing in what appeared to irritation. His voice was smooth and deep, though not basso. It was a solid tenor voice, one that would get respect and was probably used in some sort of command function. It also, McCoy noted with a grimace, had a stinging barb to it not entirely dissimilar to his own.
Kirk and McCoy were both stunned into gaping silence. Being in Starfleet, both men had grown accustomed to greeting strange beings from other worlds and not thinking twice about it. But, they'd never seen one quite like this. Here, in front of them, seemed to be a very tall, very angry, walking, talking robot. McCoy, as the doctor, would have guessed the sex of the robot to be male, if robots did indeed have genders.
He looked like he was constructed from some type of metal, though what kind neither man could hazard a guess. The alien had begun to flex his upper torso in an impressive display of technology or evolution. Now that they were able to see him move, both Kirk and McCoy could see the distinctly humanoid features, even if they were only able to observe the top half of his body. And he had the brightest blue eyes or…whatever Bones and Kirk had ever seen.
Jim raised one eyebrow, trying to recover at least a little bit of his dignity after squeaking like a girl only moments before. Kirk stepped forward. "Okay, let's start from the beginning. James T. Kirk, Captain, USS Enterprise." He extended his hand in formal greeting only to have the large alien stare at it and do nothing. Kirk motioned again, looking up at the new being. "This is the part where you introduce yourself. I know you speak Standard, otherwise you wouldn't have yelled at us. So come on. We won't bite."
The alien shook its head. "Of course I speak your language, you idiots! It's called English! Now, for the third time, get off my foot!"
Looking down, McCoy and Kirk both realized that they were indeed, still conveniently placed on his foot. Both men instantly obeyed, each stepping back a couple of paces to give the newfound alien a wide berth. He stood, joints popping and hissing. It reminded Kirk of the old car of his stepfather's he wrecked when he was thirteen. The car, because it was nearly ancient, had all sorts of quirks and funny habits. It also made a veritable boatload of weird noises, some of which were similar to the sounds Kirk was hearing now. The major difference was only that Kirk's stepfather's car wasn't alive. 'Semantics, really,' Kirk thought.
The alien stretched, seemingly grateful for the ability to move around. The humans craned their necks upward. 'Huge' was an understatement. McCoy and Kirk had never seen a being so tall. He was more than double their size, towering over them a shade over twenty feet. Most humanoid cultures contacted by the Federation were eerily similar to the human contingent from which they came. Size was roughly the same, or sometimes smaller, depending on the needs of the society. There were very few races that were habitually larger, but this one would dwarf them all.
Bones' physician's eye followed every smooth move the alien made, his keen mind analyzing the build of the creature before them. His structure was not entirely dissimilar to humans, as it appears he had support rods in the places people would have bones, cables where people would have muscle, and was quite obviously sentient. Shaking his head, McCoy finally spit out the question he'd been meaning to ask but had yet to find the words. "And what, exactly, are you?"
"I suppose I owe you that much courtesy, though Primus knows why," came the sarcastic reply. The alien seemed to sigh. Both Kirk and McCoy felt a wash of warmth run over their bodies, almost like an old radiator dispelling the heat from an engine. He drew himself up straight, his optics regarding the two humans below. "My name is Ratchet. I am an autonomous robotic organism from the planet Cybertron, but you may call me an Autobot for short."
"Autobot. Got it," Kirk nodded, his brain still processing all the information. "So what are doing on this planet?"
"I was sent ahead by my leader to scout a suitable place on which to construct a new home. My navigational arrays were damaged by an unexpected comet strike, and I crashed here," Ratchet said. Turning his gaze on the doctor, he drawled, "And now that I've shared my information, I don't believe I've gotten the pleasure of your name."
Very little intimidated Leonard McCoy in his line of work. Admirals, generals and some of the universe's most premier politicians all did little to ruffle Bones' sarcastic and snarky nature. But this alien, Ratchet, and his damned steely blue-eyed gaze was freaking him out, if only a little. McCoy felt like the guy's eyes could bore holes through his head. He cleared his throat and swallowed down the lump that had formed there. "Leonard McCoy. Chief Medical Officer aboard the aforementioned Enterprise."
Ratchet tilted his head to the side in silent contemplation. There were many questions that he could not answer, and hopefully these humans could help him out. For now, he'd just have to get the two people to trust him. Ratchet's first plan was to start with what he knew, and that meant talking with the human doctor. "Chief Medical Officer? You're in the U.S. military?"
"U.S.?" Kirk asked. "I'm from Iowa, but we're with the Federation."
"The Federation? Of what?" Ratchet raised his arm, his mouth forming a question, and then stopped. "Gentlemen, what year is it?"
McCoy and Kirk exchanged glances. Kirk was genuinely confused. "Year? We haven't used years in quite a while. Do you mean startdate? 2259.42."
Ratchet shook his head. "No! I have no idea what a 'stardate' is. Year, morons, years! 2010? 2050? What?"
The wheels in the young captain's head began to turn. How long exactly had Ratchet been marooned on Aures II or drifting aimlessly out in space? Kirk took two steps forward and put his hands on his hips. He tried his best to contain his amusement, but scowled internally as some of it leaked out through his voice. "Uh, Ratchet? I think you may want to sit down."
The Autobot looked clearly puzzled and slightly offended. "And why might that be?"
Bones sensed where Kirk was going and ran a hand along his brow. "Because it's 2259."
Ratchet sat back down, his large form shaking the small cavern. Bringing one hand up to his forehead, he said only, "Oh, frag."
Jim sidled up to Ratchet as close as he dared. "Are you going to squish me? Kill me? Punt me across the cave like a little football?"
Ratchet looked up from his position on the ground, despondent. "No. I will none of the above"
"All right!" Kirk clapped his hands together and trotted up to Ratchet. "Then maybe this will be something better discussed on my ship. "
The Autobot medic cycled his vents in absolute relief. The soldier in him demanded that he complete the mission, or at least try to ascertain if any of his kind still existed in the universe. But his pride didn't relish asking some puny humans for help off this backwater hellhole of a planet. However, at the present juncture, Ratchet knew he didn't have much choice. He was literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. Apparently, his internal chronometer had suffered quite a bit of damage as well, if it put him so far out of touch with time itself.
Straightening, Ratchet answered, "That would be agreeable, Captain."
Kirk nodded and called Scotty. "Scotty! Do you have us?"
The cheerful Scotsman's voice came wafting through the air. "Yes, sir. I have two of you and another, very large, very alien signal."
Bones huffed. If Scotty only knew how accurate that description was…
Kirk chose to ignore the doom and gloom seeping from his CMO in palpable waves. Instead, he addressed his chief engineer. "Good. Now, I know we're not going to fit in the transporter room, so you're going to find the biggest shuttle we have and strip it down to all but two seats and a place for the pilot. Have Sulu fly it down when you're done."
"Aye, sir, but I don't understand why we can't just beam you up!"
McCoy snorted a laugh. "Just wait until we get to the ship, Mr. Scott. Then you'll understand."
Before he closed the comm, Kirk asked, "Oh, and Scotty?"
"Yes, Captain?"
"How much room do we have in the aft cargo bay?"
Scotty leaned back in his chair. "Plenty, but I--"
Kirk cut him off before he could finish the sentence. "That's all I needed to know, Mr. Scott. Kirk out."
Up on the Enterprise, the chief engineer scratched his head. Whatever the hell was going on down there had to be mighty interesting. Hopping off his stool, Scotty yelled to the group of assembled young engineers, "Well, you heard the captain! Stop standing around and get going to it!"
Ratchet's opinion on humans was that they really had an annoying habit of getting under his protoform. And in 200 years, apparently nothing hadn't changed, at least in that regard.
When Sulu touched down on Aures II in the newly retrofitted shuttle, the pilot had taken one look at Kirk, McCoy and Ratchet emerging from the cave, turned back for the shuttle, and wisely said nothing. But it was the stares, the hushed whispers and the surreptitious glances being thrown his direction that really had Ratchet wanting to go Megatron on the next human who happened to yelp in surprise in his presence.
As soon as the shuttle docked and the doors dropped, all activity in the cargo bay came to a grinding halt. And when Ratchet slowly and painstakingly inched his way out of the cramped space, every single set of eyes in the place locked onto him and refused to budge. Sensing his guest's discomfort, it was only an order from Kirk to clear the cargo bay of any non-essential personnel that finally earned the small group some privacy.
Ratchet watched with sharp optics as the steady stream of disgruntled Enterprise crewmembers exited the cavernous space. Against the flow of traffic, the Autobot CMO picked up one lone, lithe figure in blue making his way gracefully into the room. Although he appeared at first glance to be human, Ratchet's sophisticated medical scan told him otherwise. His genetics were much more complex, but not unduly so. That, and the set of pointed ears were a dead giveaway.
Spock came to a halt in front of the assembled trio of Ratchet, Kirk and McCoy. He tilted his head slightly to the side and quipped, "Fascinating. The Captain told me he encountered an alien being on the surface, though I am loath to admit this is not what I was expecting."
"I'll bet," came Ratchet's dry response. Well, at least the pointy-eared fellow wasn't gaping openly. It was a start.
Spock regarded the Autobot in curiosity. "Apologies. I am Spock, Captain Kirk's First Officer. May I assume that the unusual signal we found can be traced back to you?"
"I'm sure it was."
Spock turned to his friend and captain. "Captain, permission to speak freely?"
Kirk looked around at the empty room and replied, "Spock. Do you see anyone around us? We're all friends, so say whatever the hell you want. You don't have to ask for my permission to talk."
Locking his hands behind his back, Spock said, "Captain, I feel it prudent yet again to remind you that even though we are friends, you are still the captain of this vessel. As such, I feel it is my duty to conduct myself in a manner due that station in your presence."
Kirk rolled his eyes, jokingly exasperated. As he would continue to ignore regulation, Spock would be there to remind him of their existence. "Whatever, Spock. Fine. When people are around, ask. But if no one's here, for god's sake, will you just talk?"
"Noted, Captain."
McCoy was unsure as to why he decided to hang around. Wanting desperately to curl up in his warm quarters with a steaming hot cup of bourbon coffee and a good book, Bones sincerely hoped Spock and Kirk would stop arguing like an old married couple and get to the damned point. The doctor crossed his arms over his chest and drawled, "Are you going to spit it out anytime soon, Spock? I've got things to do."
Spock didn't hesitate. When Dr. McCoy was in one of his 'moods,' as Jim called it, the Vulcan found it was best to fight fire with fire. "Then perhaps it would be wise for you to see to it, Doctor. There is nothing keeping you here, unless our newest guest requires a full physical."
Ratchet nearly snorted sarcastically. "I'm a medic. I can take care of that myself, thank you."
McCoy peered into the expectant faces of Kirk, Spock and Ratchet and threw in the figurative towel. Snarling some foul epithets in both the captain and first officer's respective directions, the doctor nearly stomped out of the cargo bay and down the hall.
Kirk watched his friend go, exasperation and laughter silently warring for control over his face. No one could ever tell him his CMO didn't have a bit of temper, and as Bones' best and probably only friend, Jim got the brunt of it. Looking up at Ratchet, Kirk assured, "Don't worry about Bones. Crankiness is a chronic affliction of his."
"Your doctor isn't my concern, Captain. If he wants to be miserable, I have no trouble letting him stay that way," Ratchet answered.
Kirk snorted. He liked this Ratchet already. The Captain climbed up and seated himself on a box near the wall. Sitting was so much more comfortable. "So, Ratchet? What was your mission?"
"As I told you on the planet, I was sent by my leader to scout a new planet on which to colonize our race. At the time I left, we had been deeply entrenched in civil war for centuries, one that nearly wiped out my race. We left Earth as soon as the war was over, for you had no reason to fear our enemies at that point. That was 2025, and I have been apparently floating through space and then stuck on that Primusforsaken planet for some time now."
The warning bells were ringing in Jim's head. "No, no, no. I'm sorry, but if you were on Earth 200 years ago, I think we would have heard about you. I mean, it's not like you can just hide in plain sight!" Kirk rebutted. Something didn't quite smell right, and Jim never minced words.
Ratchet raised an optic ridge. His response was deeply cryptic, the context of which Kirk would only discover the true meaning some time later. "You'd be surprised, Captain. We are capable of more than your feeble human mind can possibly imagine. But to answer you question, your government decided that secrecy was our best weapon. Our existence was concealed for the greater good."
"Though I tend to me much less cynical than the Captain, I must concur with his logic. Why, indeed, have we heard nothing about you?" Spock asked.
Ratchet's optics dimmed momentarily as he found a channel to scan for the latest data. It took him a moment to adapt to the new data stream, though he found it to be a pleasant surprise. Given the simply archaic technology he'd encountered on his last visit with humans, the speed at which he was able to rifle through over 200 years of history was a welcome achievement. Finally, he found the information for which he was searching, and not surprisingly, it was nowhere near the truth. There was no mention of Megatron, The Fallen or the subsequent aftermath surrounding the Decepticons. Putting together the data into a three-dimensional package, the Autobot CMO activated his holo-projectors and began the playback.
Kirk's jaw slackened, though it didn't drop as he watched the lifelike images paint a picture of a history he could never know about. He remembered reading about the images before him in school when he was young, though he had likely been given the sanitized version.
Two hundred years before he was born, Jim learned a controlled government experiment with artificial intelligence had gone horribly wrong, and several thousand people were killed when the product of that research gained sentience. The first to fall victim was a town called Mission City, and the second the pyramids of Egypt. A containment team was brought in and order was restored. The world was fed a bunch of bogus information, apparently, and anyone with too much knowledge of the project randomly disappeared or was relocated in some form or fashion.
'The cover-up,' Kirk thought bitterly. 'Nice to know the military and the government haven't changed in that regard.'
Though deftly more tactful, Spock's logical mind was spinning as well. The data was sound. The research was top notch. Ratchet had information no one else could, and sources to back it up. Spock concluded that either this creature was a terrific spy, or he was actually a marooned alien robot. If this stranger was who he claimed to be, he had invaluable knowledge of Earth's history. If that were truly the case, as explorers, it was something he knew could not be passed up. But still, the human part of Spock's mind wondered how easy would it be for one to throw away everything that was supposed to be concrete history and accept the facts from a complete stranger.
Sensing the apprehension, Ratchet supplied, "You don't have to believe a word I say. I don't expect it. I am looking to do nothing more than to find out if any of my species has survived. From there, it's up to you what you think and do."
Kirk smiled. "Well, we'll never know unless we give you the chance, right?" Perhaps it was too trusting of him, but the more he thought, the more he actually believed Ratchet. And thanks to Nero, one of the first things he learned in his young career was to go with his instincts and hold his ground. Right now seemed like an awfully good time to do just that. "You said you want to try and figure out if any of your species has survived. How can we help?"
Spock chose this moment to make his way over toward Kirk. Putting his back toward Ratchet, the Vulcan asked in a hushed tone, "Captain, I must again renew my stance. Is this indeed the most logical avenue?"
The Enterprise captain fixed his first officer with a cocky little smirk. Clapping Spock on the bicep much as he did during the fight with Nero, Kirk looked his friend in the eye and said, "Trust me. He's okay."
Spock's eyebrows bounced upward and then down again in acceptance. "I do trust you, Jim. Implicitly. That is why I fear I will not like where you're headed with this."
Kirk hopped down off the boxes to stop near Ratchet's left foot. "I will allow you all the resources you need in order to find your species. But, I need your reassurance you're not going to blow up my ship and hurt my crew, so that privilege is going to come with some ground rules."
Ratchet narrowed his optics. In his experience with humans, the species rarely did anything without expecting something of equal or greater value in return. "Understood. But if I accept your help, what is it you require in return?"
"I don't require anything in return. My standing orders as captain of this vessel are to protect, defend and explore, and I can't do that very well if I don't at least make an effort to help you." Kirk stopped, but brought up one finger to make his final point. "My only requirement is that you be accompanied by a member of my crew whom I trust at all times."
Ratchet was incensed. "I do not require a babysitter."
Kirk held up his hands. "I'm not saying you do. But, my security chief would have my balls on a plate if she found out you were causing a ruckus unaccompanied, so let's make it a compromise. I won't hand you over to her. Instead, your…" Kirk paused, searching for the right word, "liaison will be Dr. McCoy. You both share the medical field, so maybe you can learn something from one another."
Spock's lips twitched, the Vulcan equivalent of laughing out loud. Now he knew where Kirk was going with his little plan. So Jim had indeed recognized the behavioral similarities in the two CMOs. Spock had to hand it to his friend. Though he was young, the man was simply devious, and he knew his crew well. To preserve his stoic front, Spock said nothing but shot Kirk a look clearly asking, 'What's the point of this?'
Kirk responded with a passive shrug of his shoulders, the meaning behind it clearly saying, 'Because I'm the Captain, and therefore I can.'
Ratchet cycled his vents. What Kirk proposed did seem fair, and the faster he could figure out what happened to Optimus, Ironhide and any other surviving Autobots, the faster he could get off this ship. He could put with the indignity of being tailed by a human doctor in the interim. Kneeling down the Kirk's level, the Autobot medic agreed. "You have a deal, Captain."
"Good. Uh, for tonight, I think it might be wise for you to stay in the cargo bay. I'm going to seal it off, and we can explain to Scotty in the morning what's going on in here," Kirk suggested.
"That would be acceptable. My systems are still not completely recovered after being in the deep freeze of Aures II for that extended of a time," Ratchet answered.
Spock and Kirk both bid their goodbyes. Ratchet just grunting in acknowledgement, settling in against the solid bulkhead to rest and repair his damaged systems.
"I do believe your next trip to medbay will likely be an unpleasant one," Spock gently chided as the two men strolled down the corridor to Kirk's cabin. "The good doctor will undoubtedly be quite displeased with his new assignment."
Jim laughed, turning to enter the code to his personal quarters. "Lighten up, Spock. It'll be worth it. Besides, as you just pointed out, it's my ass on the line, not yours. Just sit back and enjoy it."
"Indeed. To use a human colloquialism, I believe you are 'taking one for the team,' Captain." Spock lifted one eyebrow and leaned into Jim's personal space before responding. He shifted his eyes about again to be sure no one was within an earshot. "I must thank you for it, Jim. This shall prove to be most entertaining."
Kirk scoffed hard. "Yeah. It'll only be good if one of them doesn't kill me first."
Next Up: Scotty meets Ratchet and McCoy gets his new assignment. In typical McCoy fashion, Bones is less than thrilled.
Click here for chapter 1
Click here for chapter 2
Click here for chapter 3
Click here for chapter 4
Click here for chapter 5
Click here for chapter 6