Raining Mechs and Dogs

[jazzingitup]

Characters: Jazz, open (whoever wants to find him basically)
Content: Jazz's very subtle arrival.
Location: Outskirts of Iacon
Time of day: Early evening
Warnings: n/a
Status: (Active/Finished?) Active

Comments

[chromefatale]

((OoC: Joining you from here))

The Perceptors, as Chromia chose to call them after they'd all been introduced, were very boring, to say the least. They were scientists, not exactly her usual company, and the prattled on to each other about opposing theories of their universes. Against her better judgment, Chromia had decided to lead their makeshift trio, generally ignoring the two behind her in favor of scanning the area with all sensors to see if there should happen to be anything of interest, or any threats.

It had been a few hours before the distress beacon blazed across her communications board, causing her to stop in her tracks for a moment to register it.

"Jazz?" she asked quietly to no one. The signal exactly matched that of one her Autobots would give off, but her Jazz was dead. Well, this may just confirm a theory for her.

"I've got an Autobot distress signal," she projected louder, turning her body slightly to address her companions. "It's not far from here. We should go quickly."

Without much hesitation, she shifted into her motorcycle form in a whirl of parts, resuming their forward course with a bit more conviction and speed.

[scientificlife]

For the most part, Perceptor ignore Chromia just as much as she was ignoring the sniper and scientist. He had nothing against her really, outside of her poor attitude, but he figure for the sake of keeping things civil, he'd just focus on his double.

Their expedition to the Autobot base had proven a bust, no sign of any other beings there--at least not yet. So they had continued to trek onward, Perceptor striking up the occasional conversation with his double, intrigued to learn more about him, to learn more about the differences between their realities.

And then something was picked up on his scanners about the moment Chromia spoke up.

"Might as well follow," he murmured to his companion, watching the femme transform before following her, his pace much quicker now but as long as he could keep his scanners locked on her, he wasn't worried about losing track of her.

[vita_scientia]

Perceptor wasn't one to hold a grudge, fortunately, though he, too, had been mostly ignoring Chromia as well. Not out of irritation or any petty need to exclude her, but merely out of his own absent-minded curiosity. Given a choice between happily chattering on - by request, even - about his reality and science, or wading through stilted dialogue with the militant femme, the choice had been an obvious and simple one.

Those few times when the conversation had lulled with his counterpart, and Perceptor had been considering attempting to strike up something with Chromia, he'd been quickly distracted by the appearance of other life forms. Not mechs, of course, as the only ones he had seen thus far were his traveling companions, but the other lesser creatures that he had been expecting to see around Cybertron: glitchmice, mecharats, even a turbofox at one point, skittering nervously down an alley. Those sighting had, of course, merely opened new dissertations with his counterpart regarding the nature of their circumstances.

It was odd to not only not be encouraged to simplify his language, but to even be encouraged to talk at all. He rather liked it.

He, too, however, picked up anomalous readings just before Chromia had stated that she had detected something. "Agreed. Our assistance may be required to render aid if she is correct.," he replies, also picking up his pace.

Sadly, he can run faster than his alt mode can travel.

[jazzingitup]

Currently, there was not much Jazz could do, much less move in his current condition. So he busied himself with watching the two turbofoxes that sniffed around him and tried to pick out any other signs of life with what sensors he had that weren't damaged.

Sadly Jazz was not picking up any other life signs around here, and he was beginning to wonder if he was just going to bleed out here.

[chromefatale]

The moment the crater came into view, turbofox scattering at the sound of her approach and the sight of her headlight, and she reached her coordinates simultaneously, Chromia slowed to a stop and transformed, left arm guns powering up should this turn out to be a trap.

But sure enough, scans revealed only one bot (and the turbofox watching curiously on the periphery), and her optics beheld the sight of a comrade long lost.

"Jazz?" she asked hesitantly, coming to a cautious stop at the lip of the indentation. Just because others weren't around didn't mean this wasn't a trap. It could be booby trapped, and Jazz didn't seem as though he was going to offline in the next few seconds it took her to exercise caution.

[scientificlife]

Perceptor reached the crater sometime after Chromia arrived, his steps slowing back to a walk as he watched the femme lingering on the lip of the crater itself. He frowned thoughtful, not sure what to expect over the edge as he held out an arm to slow his double down.

Tossing him a glance, the sniper let his arm drop as he slowly continued forward, right hand twitching slightly, ready to grab for his gun if need be.

A scan of the crater revealed a presence, an Autobot it seemed, and he relaxed the tiniest bit as he came to stand just behind the femme.

...This one must be from her universe.

[vita_scientia]

From a swift jog back down to a more sedate walk, Perceptor followed them both to what appears to be a rather significant impact crater. A fresh one, at that, and hopefully Chromia was wrong about having detected an Autobot distress signal, because, if not, and this this crater was the source of the signal...

Someone was going to be in significant need of repairs, most likely.

Jazz? Perceptor frowned and hastened his steps briefly to reach his counterpart's side and peer down into the crater. He wasn't expecting the sight that greeted him. No, definitely not the Jazz from his reality, however, if she had recognized him, then the damaged mech sprawled in the bottom of that crater was obviously Chromia's Jazz.

And just as obviously in need of those repairs, as Perceptor had feared. "Oh my," he breathes softly, already scanning the sides of the crater for any major hazards. "Remain where you are. I will be down momentarily to assist you," he orders, already kneeling down to scale down to Jazz's side without landing on him.

[jazzingitup]

Jazz perked up when he heard a familiar femme voice call down to him. His sensors really must be frizzing if they didn't pick up the other three 'bots approaching.

"Chromia? That you? Haven't seen ya in an age!" Definitely not since they separated to into small teams to look for the All Spark. "Who are ya friends?" If Chromia was with them and hasn't shot them yet, then they were at least neutral and not an immediate danger.

"Don't think I can move even if I wanted to." Jazz answered quietly, then tried to shift into more upright position despite Perceptor's order, cringing when he felt more pain from his midsection from the movement.

[chromefatale]

"Yeah Jazz, it's me." With the other two already starting in, and Jazz's happiness to see her, Chromia threw caution to the wind and let herself roll down to her comrade's position, lowering beside him to take his hand while the two science bots worked.

"These two are Perceptor, from two different universes," she explained, even though it sounded mad even to her as it came from her vocalizer. "They're scientists, inventors. They're going to help you."

It was a promise she was making for them, but after listening to the two for quite a while, she was confident that if their talk matched their walk, they could at least get him functional. Which was a very ironic thing to say about a dead bot.

[scientificlife]

Following the others, Perceptor moved to assist his counterpart though, honestly, it was odd for him considering the lack of this sort of work that he had been doing. He knelt on the opposite side from the scientist, his targeting optic switching to its scanner mode as he started getting a reading on Jazz's vitals, taking note of each injury, the extent, and whether he was stable overall or not.

"Chromia, please keep him still if you would. I understand that it can be tempting to move but it would be wise not to do so for now," he suggested, glancing up at Jazz with his usual hard to read look before his focus went to his counterpart. "His vitals are fairly stable, all things considered, but the injuries most definitely need to be dealt with. Do you have supplies?"

Even as he spoke the sniper was taking stock of what he had in subspace..and it wasn't much.

[vita_scientia]

Once in position, Perceptor transformed, training his scope across Jazz's entire structure to trace out all the various injuries. Although extensive, nothing flagged as immediately fatal, and the primary concern was mostly the fluid loss being incurred.

"Fortunately," he replied to his counterpart as he transformed back into robot mode, "yes, some."

From subspace came a supply of hose clamps and tubing repair sleeves of various sizes, which Perceptor handed off to his counterpart as he withdrew a few more delicate tools from subspace for himself. "I spoke of Rodimus Prime, yes?" he observes as he bends down and begins rerouting power from badly damaged systems, and attempting to locate Jazz's tactile junctions to dial down his pain receptors. "Since the loss of Ratchet, I have assumed the duties of being Rodimus Prime's primary repair technician. Given his, ah... ahem... somewhat unorthodox method of leadership, I have taken to keeping certain staple materials with me at all times."

[jazzingitup]

O...kay. The alternate universe thing was kind of hard to swallow right now, but Jazz could roll with it for now, especially since they were kind enough to start repairs on him. He was, however, wondering where Ratchet was, especially the one he knew. Not to mention the rest of the Earth team.

"Right. Stayin' still." Jazz drawled as he stilled his movements. "By the way, Chromia. Have ya met anyone else that's familiar. Maybe one that goes by the name of Ratchet?" Inventors and scientists or not, he still trusted Ratchet's medical capabilities more.

"Never heard o' Rodimus Prime. Only Prime I know of is Optimus."

[chromefatale]

"No," she sighed, moving to sit beside the familiar mech. "The only bots I've seen around are these two."

Before the cyberfox a moment before, she hadn't seen any life at all, really.

"But, that might be a good thing..." Well, it was now or never to ask her theory.

"Jazz, what is the last thing you remember? Back on Earth, I mean?" Of course, Chromia hadn't been there, but she had been told the story, and she had seen the small memorial the humans had erected on Diego Garcia for Jazz alongside the bodies of their own deceased warriors.

[scientificlife]

A faint, almost amused sound escaped Perceptor at the mention of his counterpart's leader's unorthodox ways, the sniper shaking his head slightly as he took the supplies and got to work. The fingers of his right hand splitting open, multiple precision tools were revealed, allowing Perceptor to work faster and more efficiently as he sought out all of the damaged lines and began to clamp and repair.

The mention of Ratchet was only slightly offensive, if only because he knew that the medic was far more skilled at this sort of venture than at least he ever was.

Now his counterpart on the other hand...

Managing to get the smaller lines clamped for the time being, a few repair sleeves were snagged and adjusted into place before he began to set them properly, sealing them to the damaged lines. Chromia's question perked his interest as he worked, Perceptor switching to one of the larger lines that was obscuring his view, glancing up at the pair momentarily before back down at his work.

He was curious to know the nature of this wound. Had Jazz received it during landing or prior to that?

[vita_scientia]

Perceptor remained uncharacteristically silent as he worked, his only commentary the occasional mutter at some recalcitrant component or another as he attempted to piece everything back together, either by skill or cajoling it, if need be. His counterpart was perceptive enough (heh) however, to possibly have noted the barest flinch when Jazz had asked Chromia about Ratchet, or the way Perceptor's shoulders were hunched in just the tiniest bit as he worked.

Perceptor didn't blame Jazz for preferring Ratchet to work on him; there had been many times in the past that Perceptor had wished Ratchet were there to perform the work he was being asked to do.

[jazzingitup]

Jazz didn't mean to be offensive. It just was that he knew Ratchet, but he didn't know these two mechs. And a part of him was just a bit paranoid about unknown mechs working on his insides, whether they were Autobots or not.

"The last thin' I remember? Jus' Megatron's ugly mug in my face 'fore everything went blank." He trembled almost imperceptibly as he answered Chromia's question. Jazz wasn't too interested in talking about his death. Dead was dead. He was more interested in the living, especially in the condition of the Earth team.