AUTOBOT BASE
Ratchet packed up his instruments for the day. He cleared the operating table and cleaned away the debris from the past seventeen hours, meticulously placing everything back in order so that after he roused from recharge, he could launch straight back into the fray. This was the repair job to end all repair jobs, and although he’d been slaving away ( Read more... )
“You went one-on-one with Starscream?” Ratchet was irritated and it bled through into his vocal processor. At a time like this, with resources stretched so thinly, the last thing he needed was for all the other Autobots to be singled out and vandalized like this. It was very worrying that the Decepticons were able to inflict such heavy damage on Ironhide. The tall, dark mech was a walking artillery stockpile and was just as fearsome in hand-to-hand combat as he was with his massive cannons. Starscream seemed to have timed his battle with Ironhide to coincide with the mech being partially disarmed, which was worryingly tactical of the Decepticons. “Did you start the fight?” Ratchet asked in an accusatory tone as he pointedly gestured that Ironhide was to take a seat. “Or did Starscream hunt you down?”
Ratchet dismissed the weapons specialist’s modifications to his cannons as the cause for the malfunctions. Trigger-happy and brutal he may be, but Ironhide was a gifted gunsmith, making it unlikely that his own alterations to his weaponry were to blame.
The mention of the Decepticons uploading a virus rang true. “A virus is highly likely I’m afraid. Lately, Barricade has been attempting to infect my systems with a variety of viral codes. Perhaps you have had a few polarities in your left cannon reversed so that the charge falls back on itself, but the right cannon is a little trickier.”
Ratchet reached out to take a closer look at Ironhide’s starboard cannon. The burly warrior’s guns were his pride and joy, and Ratchet had known him for long enough to have learned to treat them with the utmost respect. Ironhide was generally one of his least irritating patients, never making the undue fuss over minor repair work discomfort that some of the younger mechs made, but he would not tolerate having his finely tuned weaponry handled flippantly. Ratchet was quietly surprised that Ironhide allowed him to work on them at all, considering how much of ‘Hide’s spare time was spent making minute adjustments to them and polishing them.
There was a slight chemical residue on the barrels of Ironhide’s problematically bubbly cannon. It looked like it might have been burn energon. “This discharge… was it a dense, compact foam or loose whole bubbles?”
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After all, scratched or not, all of Ironhide’s plating was still attached. Starscream was not so lucky.
The truck mech narrowed his optic and let out a short growl at the news of the Saleen’s virus-happy spree. "Should have guessed it would have been Barricade. That Decepticreep's been hacking into my communication links for no other reason than to annoy me. If I have to hear him complain about his mental state one more time..."
Ironhide made an exasperated motion with his arms, accidentally jerking the troublesome bubble-spewing cannon from Ratchet's grasp. "..Sorry," he grumbled, placing it back in the CMO's hands. “Anything you can do to upgrade my anti-virus capabilities? I’d rather avoid a situation like this in the future.”
And then he allowed himself a small chuckle. “Can’t believe he tried to give you a virus.”
An irritated look came over Ironhide's features. “They were whole bubbles. Made me look like some flesh-spawn’s giant bubble-blowing toy.” More cranky grumbling. “If a visual demonstration would be of any use, let me know and I’ll activate them.”
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“Barricade has been hacking into everyone’s coms channels lately, making a fragging nuisance of himself.” Ratchet started as the cannon was wrenched from his hands, but wordlessly accepted the apology and continued his examinations. Ironhide’s frustration at being unarmed was an almost physically tangible.
“If Barricade interrupts any more of my delicate operations, I’ll give him a real fragging virus to worry about. I’ve catalogued viral codes that would turn his CPU into a microchip soup! Although, I suppose that would only give him more to gripe about. As for upgrading your anti-viral capabilities, I don’t have the time to configure a new program to your operating sub routines at the moment and I don’t think it is critically necessary. I’ve got an overloaded roster as it is. If you ever bothered to run the occasional self-diagnostic, you would have identified the lurking virus and purged it without any problems.” Ratchet admonished. Ironhide almost seemed to think of himself as invincible at times.
“If a demonstration won’t cause you any discomfort, I’d like to see an example of the symptoms.”
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A snort. “Why bother waiting for Barricade to harass you again? I’d much prefer it if you’d cripple his systems as soon as possible.” An almost surprising comment, since it was coming from Ironhide. He’d much prefer to offline the Saleen himself (messing with his cannons was a very serious offense), but at this point he really didn’t care who caused the Decepticon to offline so long as it happened.
The weapons specialist grumbled. Ratchet was right in that he should have been able to detect the viral infection long before it became a problem. Perhaps this would serve as a lesson to teach him to scan himself each time someone hacked into his communication links…
With Ratchet’s permission, Ironhide wordlessly charged up the cannon on his right arm. Just as before, bubbles floated from the weapon, thus making it look like the mech was playing with an oversized bubble-blower. His optic shifted to focus on the medic again, his aggravation with the state of that cannon clearly apparent from his expression. “You gonna throw something at me if I power up my other one because you think I can’t handle a little pain? Or can I get the go-ahead to demonstrate with it, too?”
‘Hide waved a hand at the bubbles that continued to float around him, trying to waft them farther away. “By the way, have you heard of any other Autobots making planetfall? Starscream had an injury on his shoulder that I didn’t give him, so I’m curious as to whether we’ve got new arrivals nobody’s told me about or if the Decepticons are fighting amongst themselves.”
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Of course, not quite yet. The common room was dark and empty still, and he knew Ratchet would probably be in the Medbay with Jazz, or nearby. Apart from the medic, who else was around? Approaching the medbay, his sensors picked up the echo of Ironhide grumbling. Well, there's one. Optimus needed to go and see Ratchet anyway - his own injuries weren't that bad, but needed attention.
The door to the medbay were open, and Optimus walked straight in.
"Well, it looks like I'm not the only one so eager to see you, Ratchet."
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Trust Ironhide to expect him to use his medical database as a weapon. His other tools had been adapted for use as offensive weapons, why not his collection of rogue codes? Ratchet shook his head. “As much joy as it would give me to painfully incapacitate that slagpile Saleen, that’s not what my viral database is for. I have no talent for planting them without being noticed.”
He watched with a clinical curiosity was the black Topkick powered up his starboard cannon and fired. Although the weapon still whirred into life with the same ominously threatening roar, this time it didn’t culminate in a bang, but a whimper. The fiery blast was replaced by a flurry of fat bubbles.
They spewed out of the muzzle and then lazily drifted on the draughts which wormed through the hangar. Ratchet wafted one of the oily-skinned orbs closer, subjecting the swirling sphere to intense inspection before popping it on the metal plate of his forearm to analyze the residue. “Hmm.” He rumbled thoughtfully. “Well, if you want to prove your thick-helmed resistance to pain by yourself showing off your malfunction, there would be no point in me cracking a socket wrench over your thick helm for it, would there? Go ahead.” He waved the soldier’s stubborn machocismo off.
“It has literally been raining Autobots lately. Total chaos… everyone is due to report here and regroup. Prowl is on his way, I’m sure he’ll put everything in line.”
It was at that moment that Optimus Prime entered the Medbay, and Ratchet was none-too-pleased to see that he was riddled with injuries. He growled irritably. More work to add to his already overflowing schedule? “Unfortunately I don’t share your eagerness.” He hissed at his superior with barely battened-down anger
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The yellow camaro drove past the boundaries of the Autobot base, no doubt the small alarms were notifying some of his other comrades. 'Always have to be alert.. Bee mused.
As he reached the CMO's Medbay, he transformed into his 'giant robot' form, as Sam has called it many a time. He reached through the small hole of the hanger and pulled open the sliding door and--
"Woah...what the slag happened to you guys?"
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“Decepticons, what do you think? What are you here for anyway, Bumblebee? If you’ve shattered any of those brand new shock absorbers already I will personally reconfigure your suspension with the biggest, heaviest sprocket wrench I can find!”
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And then the slight bit of mirth was gone as Ironhide scowled. “I’m not trying to ‘show off’ anything. I’m trying to give you a visual of my symptoms to make this easier for you,” he growled.
His disposition improved a small amount upon hearing that more Autobots had arrived. “Hmph. Perhaps I can convince one of them to come help me hunt down those spare parts for you, then.”
Ironhide turned his head as Optimus spoke, not having heard him approach because of all the grumbling he’d been doing, obviously. Bumblebee followed their leader in not long after, and Ratchet’s mood most certainly wasn’t improving. He inwardly groaned, not really wanting to have an audience irritating the medic while he was still on the exam table.
Remembering that he had yet to actually show the CMO what was wrong with his other cannon, the Topkick powered up the weapon on his left arm. After a brief moment, Ironhide flinched slightly as the cannon sparked and his pain receptors flared to life. “New symptom. The pain seems to be getting worse each time I try to use it.”
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But, over the many Centuries, Bee has learned three different things. One, When Ratchet ain't happy, ain't no one happy. Two, dealing with an angry Ironhide would only lead to trouble. Three, an angry Ratchet and Ironhide together in the room would only lead to problems.
Remembering the said idea, he stepped back away from the Medic and weapons specialist.
'Maybe talking to Prime would go a little better...' Bee told himself, as he opened up the commlink with the leading commander.
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