Fic - Basic Augmentation Part 2: Implications
Title: Implications
Continuity: G1, Dysfunction AU
Rating: PG
Content advice: mention of violence.
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing in the sandbox.
Characters and/or pairings: Vortex, Wrench (OC), Spinister
Summary: Vortex’s first interrogation, only he’s on the receiving end.
Notes: Follows on directly from Arrival and Pulling the Strings, and is part of the Online series. Wrench is the name of a minicon in canon (Unicron Trilogy), but I’ve co-opted it for this OC - he’s the same guy as the dun-coloured grounder in the previous fic. I would love to see any version of Ratchet try to throw him.
1673 words, originally begun for the ‘implications’ prompt from Wednesday’s tf_speedwriting challenge, but it took me more than 2 hours to write, and hence isn’t eligible to post there.
"You know why you're here," Wrench said. He took the chair opposite the new-build. Online for a mere four decacycles, and already he'd got himself a stay in an interrogation cube.
Vortex nodded. "Yes, commander." He didn't seem intimidated, which was interesting in itself. His battle mask had been removed, his visor too; his face was bare, his expression alert and curious.
Wrench slapped his hand flat on the desk; the heli-former didn't flinch. "You got nothing else to say?"
"No, commander."
"Tell me about Windwarp."
Vortex cocked his head to one side, his tail rotors clattering as he folded his arms on the desk. "He was a waste of resources," he said.
That was unexpected; he'd though Vortex would express a bit of comradeship, give them reason to doubt that he was capable of killing his batchmate. "Really?" Wrench said, letting a measure of his surprise slip through.
"Really," Vortex replied. "Tailbreak should never have let him take charge. He made bad call after bad call. In a real combat situation, we would have died."
The frag do you know about real combat? Wrench thought, but said, "So he had to die instead?"
"I didn't kill him," Vortex said. He met Wrench's gaze for a moment, but refused to hold it. No challenge there, just something that could be read as sincerity.
Wrench didn't buy it. "But he was a waste of resources."
Vortex nodded. "Engineers should've recycled him on his first evaluation, sir."
"But they didn't." Time to change tact. "Why not?"
"They weren't grooming him for combat," Vortex said. "They want more med-evacs. They gave him the programming in his second cycle. They didn't want to have to start again."
Wrench's internal comms beeped him, incoming message from Spinister. He set the comm to display as text, scrolling along the bottom of his HUD. 'How does he know that?' Spinister asked.
"Windwarp tell you that?" Wrench said. Until then, he'd managed to forget that Spinister was watching.
"He did, sir."
"That was classified information."
"I never said he should have."
Cocky bastard, but at least he was talking, and if he kept talking long enough, he'd trip himself up. "When did he tell you that?"
"On the sixty third," Vortex replied. "Fourth joor, after training."
"Twelve cycles before he went missing," Wrench said.
Vortex didn't respond. He just sat there, attentive, listening.
"You like Cyclone and Bombast, don't you?"
"They perform effectively, sir," Vortex responded.
Wrench leaned back. "That wasn't what I asked. Do you like them?"
"Sure," Vortex shrugged. "Sir. But I don't see how that's relevant."
Course you don't, Wrench thought. It was transparent, but a decent attempt at diversion. And no wonder. Judging by his sergeant's reports and the footage Spinister had commissioned, the heli-former was socialising well. Stood to reason he would have learnt a little manipulation along the way. "Two cycles before Windwarp went missing," Wrench said, "he made a bad call, didn't he?"
"Sir," Vortex said. Another tactic, no affirmative, no denial, as though he was trying to close down. But his optics were as bright as ever, his main rotors still; Wrench had his complete attention.
"Tell me what happened."
"Tailbreak put him in charge," Vortex said without pause. Not giving himself time to think. Good. "It was a training exercise, live ammo. We were meant to evade an ambush. Windwarp had us walk right into it."
"Cyclone and Bombast?"
"Anti-aircraft missile," Vortex said. His index finger strayed to his tail rotors, typical calming behaviour. Could be a good sign, depending on what Spinister wanted to see.
Whatever that was. Did the rotary want intel on the murder, or for Vortex to prove himself somehow worthy. Wrench wasn’t sure. Whatever it was Spinister had provisionally selected this new-build for was probably something Wrench didn’t want to know about, let alone have any part in. He decided it wasn't his job to care; he was here to find out what had happened to Windwarp. No going easy on the new-build just to help him impress Spinister.
"And?" Wrench pressed.
"And they went down," Vortex said. "Kaboom, sir."
"Describe it to me." This was the angle, Wrench was sure of it; with his batchmates injured - batchmates he got on well with, was fond of - what new-build wouldn't consider revenge?
"I didn't have a decent visual," Vortex replied, his main rotors juddering just a little. "Too much smoke. Saw Cyclone on fire, he was screaming. Bombast was out of it, I think he landed on his head."
Wrench watched the rotors; that wasn't the usual tell in this model. "Where were you?" he said.
"Where I should have been." Vortex left his tail rotors alone, leaned forward. "At the rear, providing covering fire. I called it in," he said. "The crash. Med-team was there in a hundred astroseconds."
It was like he wanted to be a hero, but Wrench didn't think that was quite it. The main rotors were still again, and Vortex's focus only intensified.
"I got there sooner than the med bots," Vortex continued. "Couldn't do much. Clamped off a few hoses, put out the fires."
"What about Windwarp?"
"Stood around like a spare part." Vortex huffed, but it sounded forced. Wrench was tempted to vent his own annoyance, but he stopped himself. If Vortex was trying to control his responses, to seem something that he wasn't, then Wrench would do best to play along.
"What a tool," he said, springing his faceplates into an easy grin. "So he just stood there doing nothing while you saved your team mates?"
Vortex's optics flickered; it was a standard physiological response, surprise leading to involuntary recalibration. "They would have survived without it, sir," he said. Still playing the reluctant hero, perhaps, or maybe trying to look like that's how he wanted to come across?
"Sure they would," Wrench said. "But frag, if that'd been me, Windwarp wouldn't have been able to see for the fist in his face."
This was met with a small shrug, an uncertain laugh. Genuine responses, Wrench was sure of it.
"So did you?"
"Did I what, sir?"
"Hit him."
There was a pause, as though Vortex was performing a risk/benefit analysis on his possible responses. Eventually, he said, "Yes, sir."
"Then what?"
"Then the med team arrived and we went back to base."
"Was Windwarp injured?" Wrench asked.
"By the blast," Vortex responded. "A few superficial dents, some fire
damage."
"Knuckle marks in his battle mask?" Wrench grinned.
"Yeah." Vortex looked away for a moment. "That too."
Now that was interesting. Averting his gaze, as though shamed, but nothing else about him indicated he was at all uncomfortable with his actions. "Not very satisfying though, huh?" Wrench said. "Swing your fist as hard as you like, the fragger's forgot about it by the next shift cycle. With tools like Windwarp, you wanna give 'em something a bit more personal, right? Something they'll remember."
"I... I suppose so, sir."
"Teach him a lesson, right?" Wrench said. "I mean, no-one could blame you. He deserved it."
Vortex's glare returned full force. "I didn't kill him."
"Sure you didn't," Wrench agreed, not believing a word of it. "But maybe you took him aside, told him a few home truths, beat him about a bit." Somewhere no-one else would be able to hear you, Wrench thought. Not that there was anywhere like that on base. He tried to subdue his own curiosity; finding out for himself how Vortex had done it wasn't the same as fulfilling his objectives.
"No," Vortex said. "Sir."
"You wouldn't need to justify yourself," Wrench said. "He was a turbo-rat, everyone knew it. Should'a been deactivated soon as he came off the assembly line, that's what you said, right?"
It wasn't, but Vortex didn't disagree. He just said, "I didn't kill him."
"So you say, but maybe you beat him around a bit, let nature take its course. Maybe you hurt him a bit more than you meant to." It wasn't a rare occurrence with this model, especially at the beginning. Part of basic integration was to show them their strengths; there was a big difference between knowing how much pressure you were exerting, and feeling the metal crunch in your grip.
Vortex said nothing.
"We know you went off with him," Wrench said. "The cycle he disappeared."
"Respectfully, sir, I did not kill him."
He was getting flustered, his index finger returning to the leading edge of one of his tail rotors. About time.
"You were the last one to see him alive," Wrench said, his grin vanishing. He straightened up, crossing his arms and leaning forward, mirroring the heli-former's pose. "You wanna tell me what did happen?"
"I didn't kill him," Vortex said, a note of tension finally entering his voice. "Or cause him to die through negligence or not knowing my own strength. I know my own strength, sir."
"This is an opportunity," Wrench said. "You tell me what happened, you make me understand why you did it, and I can get in a good word for you with command. Don't waste this chance."
"I didn't kill him." There was a clatter as one of Vortex's rotors struck his chairleg. "You have no evidence because there was no infringement of regulations."
"Nah, no evidence," Wrench said. "Just the security vids."
There it was again, that moment of recalibration, only this time the heli-former didn't give himself pause before speaking. "No," Vortex said. "You don't."
A little line of text appeared in Wrench's HUD at the exact moment the tannoy crackled, and the hologram generator suspended above them formed an exact replica of a purple and blue rotary in the centre of the desk. 'Go with this,' the text read, while Spinister's deceptively matter-of-fact voice echoed around the cube. "You're right," he said. "They don't. But we do."
Vortex stared. "Oh frag," he said, then realised what he'd said and slumped, his forehead connecting with his arm. "Frag."
Wrench grinned; Gotchya.
Continuity: G1, Dysfunction AU
Rating: PG
Content advice: mention of violence.
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing in the sandbox.
Characters and/or pairings: Vortex, Wrench (OC), Spinister
Summary: Vortex’s first interrogation, only he’s on the receiving end.
Notes: Follows on directly from Arrival and Pulling the Strings, and is part of the Online series. Wrench is the name of a minicon in canon (Unicron Trilogy), but I’ve co-opted it for this OC - he’s the same guy as the dun-coloured grounder in the previous fic. I would love to see any version of Ratchet try to throw him.
1673 words, originally begun for the ‘implications’ prompt from Wednesday’s tf_speedwriting challenge, but it took me more than 2 hours to write, and hence isn’t eligible to post there.
"You know why you're here," Wrench said. He took the chair opposite the new-build. Online for a mere four decacycles, and already he'd got himself a stay in an interrogation cube.
Vortex nodded. "Yes, commander." He didn't seem intimidated, which was interesting in itself. His battle mask had been removed, his visor too; his face was bare, his expression alert and curious.
Wrench slapped his hand flat on the desk; the heli-former didn't flinch. "You got nothing else to say?"
"No, commander."
"Tell me about Windwarp."
Vortex cocked his head to one side, his tail rotors clattering as he folded his arms on the desk. "He was a waste of resources," he said.
That was unexpected; he'd though Vortex would express a bit of comradeship, give them reason to doubt that he was capable of killing his batchmate. "Really?" Wrench said, letting a measure of his surprise slip through.
"Really," Vortex replied. "Tailbreak should never have let him take charge. He made bad call after bad call. In a real combat situation, we would have died."
The frag do you know about real combat? Wrench thought, but said, "So he had to die instead?"
"I didn't kill him," Vortex said. He met Wrench's gaze for a moment, but refused to hold it. No challenge there, just something that could be read as sincerity.
Wrench didn't buy it. "But he was a waste of resources."
Vortex nodded. "Engineers should've recycled him on his first evaluation, sir."
"But they didn't." Time to change tact. "Why not?"
"They weren't grooming him for combat," Vortex said. "They want more med-evacs. They gave him the programming in his second cycle. They didn't want to have to start again."
Wrench's internal comms beeped him, incoming message from Spinister. He set the comm to display as text, scrolling along the bottom of his HUD. 'How does he know that?' Spinister asked.
"Windwarp tell you that?" Wrench said. Until then, he'd managed to forget that Spinister was watching.
"He did, sir."
"That was classified information."
"I never said he should have."
Cocky bastard, but at least he was talking, and if he kept talking long enough, he'd trip himself up. "When did he tell you that?"
"On the sixty third," Vortex replied. "Fourth joor, after training."
"Twelve cycles before he went missing," Wrench said.
Vortex didn't respond. He just sat there, attentive, listening.
"You like Cyclone and Bombast, don't you?"
"They perform effectively, sir," Vortex responded.
Wrench leaned back. "That wasn't what I asked. Do you like them?"
"Sure," Vortex shrugged. "Sir. But I don't see how that's relevant."
Course you don't, Wrench thought. It was transparent, but a decent attempt at diversion. And no wonder. Judging by his sergeant's reports and the footage Spinister had commissioned, the heli-former was socialising well. Stood to reason he would have learnt a little manipulation along the way. "Two cycles before Windwarp went missing," Wrench said, "he made a bad call, didn't he?"
"Sir," Vortex said. Another tactic, no affirmative, no denial, as though he was trying to close down. But his optics were as bright as ever, his main rotors still; Wrench had his complete attention.
"Tell me what happened."
"Tailbreak put him in charge," Vortex said without pause. Not giving himself time to think. Good. "It was a training exercise, live ammo. We were meant to evade an ambush. Windwarp had us walk right into it."
"Cyclone and Bombast?"
"Anti-aircraft missile," Vortex said. His index finger strayed to his tail rotors, typical calming behaviour. Could be a good sign, depending on what Spinister wanted to see.
Whatever that was. Did the rotary want intel on the murder, or for Vortex to prove himself somehow worthy. Wrench wasn’t sure. Whatever it was Spinister had provisionally selected this new-build for was probably something Wrench didn’t want to know about, let alone have any part in. He decided it wasn't his job to care; he was here to find out what had happened to Windwarp. No going easy on the new-build just to help him impress Spinister.
"And?" Wrench pressed.
"And they went down," Vortex said. "Kaboom, sir."
"Describe it to me." This was the angle, Wrench was sure of it; with his batchmates injured - batchmates he got on well with, was fond of - what new-build wouldn't consider revenge?
"I didn't have a decent visual," Vortex replied, his main rotors juddering just a little. "Too much smoke. Saw Cyclone on fire, he was screaming. Bombast was out of it, I think he landed on his head."
Wrench watched the rotors; that wasn't the usual tell in this model. "Where were you?" he said.
"Where I should have been." Vortex left his tail rotors alone, leaned forward. "At the rear, providing covering fire. I called it in," he said. "The crash. Med-team was there in a hundred astroseconds."
It was like he wanted to be a hero, but Wrench didn't think that was quite it. The main rotors were still again, and Vortex's focus only intensified.
"I got there sooner than the med bots," Vortex continued. "Couldn't do much. Clamped off a few hoses, put out the fires."
"What about Windwarp?"
"Stood around like a spare part." Vortex huffed, but it sounded forced. Wrench was tempted to vent his own annoyance, but he stopped himself. If Vortex was trying to control his responses, to seem something that he wasn't, then Wrench would do best to play along.
"What a tool," he said, springing his faceplates into an easy grin. "So he just stood there doing nothing while you saved your team mates?"
Vortex's optics flickered; it was a standard physiological response, surprise leading to involuntary recalibration. "They would have survived without it, sir," he said. Still playing the reluctant hero, perhaps, or maybe trying to look like that's how he wanted to come across?
"Sure they would," Wrench said. "But frag, if that'd been me, Windwarp wouldn't have been able to see for the fist in his face."
This was met with a small shrug, an uncertain laugh. Genuine responses, Wrench was sure of it.
"So did you?"
"Did I what, sir?"
"Hit him."
There was a pause, as though Vortex was performing a risk/benefit analysis on his possible responses. Eventually, he said, "Yes, sir."
"Then what?"
"Then the med team arrived and we went back to base."
"Was Windwarp injured?" Wrench asked.
"By the blast," Vortex responded. "A few superficial dents, some fire
damage."
"Knuckle marks in his battle mask?" Wrench grinned.
"Yeah." Vortex looked away for a moment. "That too."
Now that was interesting. Averting his gaze, as though shamed, but nothing else about him indicated he was at all uncomfortable with his actions. "Not very satisfying though, huh?" Wrench said. "Swing your fist as hard as you like, the fragger's forgot about it by the next shift cycle. With tools like Windwarp, you wanna give 'em something a bit more personal, right? Something they'll remember."
"I... I suppose so, sir."
"Teach him a lesson, right?" Wrench said. "I mean, no-one could blame you. He deserved it."
Vortex's glare returned full force. "I didn't kill him."
"Sure you didn't," Wrench agreed, not believing a word of it. "But maybe you took him aside, told him a few home truths, beat him about a bit." Somewhere no-one else would be able to hear you, Wrench thought. Not that there was anywhere like that on base. He tried to subdue his own curiosity; finding out for himself how Vortex had done it wasn't the same as fulfilling his objectives.
"No," Vortex said. "Sir."
"You wouldn't need to justify yourself," Wrench said. "He was a turbo-rat, everyone knew it. Should'a been deactivated soon as he came off the assembly line, that's what you said, right?"
It wasn't, but Vortex didn't disagree. He just said, "I didn't kill him."
"So you say, but maybe you beat him around a bit, let nature take its course. Maybe you hurt him a bit more than you meant to." It wasn't a rare occurrence with this model, especially at the beginning. Part of basic integration was to show them their strengths; there was a big difference between knowing how much pressure you were exerting, and feeling the metal crunch in your grip.
Vortex said nothing.
"We know you went off with him," Wrench said. "The cycle he disappeared."
"Respectfully, sir, I did not kill him."
He was getting flustered, his index finger returning to the leading edge of one of his tail rotors. About time.
"You were the last one to see him alive," Wrench said, his grin vanishing. He straightened up, crossing his arms and leaning forward, mirroring the heli-former's pose. "You wanna tell me what did happen?"
"I didn't kill him," Vortex said, a note of tension finally entering his voice. "Or cause him to die through negligence or not knowing my own strength. I know my own strength, sir."
"This is an opportunity," Wrench said. "You tell me what happened, you make me understand why you did it, and I can get in a good word for you with command. Don't waste this chance."
"I didn't kill him." There was a clatter as one of Vortex's rotors struck his chairleg. "You have no evidence because there was no infringement of regulations."
"Nah, no evidence," Wrench said. "Just the security vids."
There it was again, that moment of recalibration, only this time the heli-former didn't give himself pause before speaking. "No," Vortex said. "You don't."
A little line of text appeared in Wrench's HUD at the exact moment the tannoy crackled, and the hologram generator suspended above them formed an exact replica of a purple and blue rotary in the centre of the desk. 'Go with this,' the text read, while Spinister's deceptively matter-of-fact voice echoed around the cube. "You're right," he said. "They don't. But we do."
Vortex stared. "Oh frag," he said, then realised what he'd said and slumped, his forehead connecting with his arm. "Frag."
Wrench grinned; Gotchya.