sv, Tau Station, Blast From The Past...
Through the smoke and haze of what had once been part of the upper deck of the station, Fixer searched and tried to block out memories of another time when smoke, heat, and fire had made the world around her as close to the Pit as a living mech or femme could get. She had several things on her processor, but the top priority was getting to the mech trapped under the rubble while the glitch-head was still online to appreciate the rescue. All around her, she could hear the Enforcers dealing with the last dregs of the Decepticon ambush that had struck, either by the grace of Primus or the whim of the Unmaker, right at the end of the down shift when the 'Day Shift' Enforcers were heading to their posts.
So focused was she on freeing the mech under the rubble that she didn't notice Torque Minor, Moonracer, and Rundown helping to clear out rubble until the youngest of the three Enforcers had put his hands alongside her own to help lift part of the wall that had fallen on the comrade in need of rescue. For a brief moment, Fixer was almost afraid to see what was under the wall, but that lasted only long enough to actually get the wall off of the mech. As soon as battered and scorched brown and teal plating had been revealed, Fixer knew the time for panicking was past. She had work to do.
Once Torque and Rundown had cleared the heavier pieces of rubble off and away from Viisaus, it became clear that what had originally looked like minor injuries that would only take the better part of a solar cycle to repair would take more than that, and quite possibly a bit of help from a certain medic on an organic world... But for now, Fixer would do what she could with what she had on hand, and would curse the fact that her long-time friend, no... Her brother had yet again stepped in the proverbial slag heap... If only to make sure she was safe and unharmed... Really, the mech was a sap... But he was the best friend a 'Con-born Autobot could hope for...
Sometime in the past...
"Hello? Is there anyone down there?" The voice was hard to make out... Was she hearing things? How long had she been down here again? Where were her creators? Everything was quiet and stank of burnt metal and mech fluids... "If there's someone down there, I'm just trying to help, so please, do not shoot. I only wish to assist you." No... She wasn't hearing things... Someone really was there...
A blurt of static, and then silence as her vocalizer protested her attempt to speak, to tell whoever it was that she was here, she was all alone, she was hurt. She had not picked up any sign of her creators... They had been killed then, or perhaps captured? It didn't matter... There was someone there with her. She could almost make out the... blue... no... No...
"Easy... I have no intention of bringing you harm... My designation is Viisaus... I wish to help you get to a medic." What she could make out of the mech's voice, for it was indeed an Autobot mech who had joined her in the remains of her home, made her initial distrust pause. He did not sound very old... though that could have been due to her audios malfunctioning... No... He sounded close to her own age... "Let's get you out of here..."
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"Are you certain your companion's audios are not completely destroyed, Viisaus Prime?" Fixer could make out the shape of the medic in charge of this particular field hospital, as well as the chucklehead. What she couldn't make out with her optic band was Viisaus' expression, but going by the tone of voice he was using, he was trying his hardest to not wallop the rust-for-processor unit medic for being a slagging git.
"Quite. Perhaps you are not addressing her properly?" Fixer dearly wanted to snort and give away that she had heard the gist of the conversation, not to mention that she had, in fact, heard the idiot medic trying to address her as "Deepdancer". She just didn't feel like answering to that at all. Never had, never would. Even Viisaus knew better, after the first time she had launched a temperature probe at his head and had nailed him squarely between the optics. For all her limited mobility, she was quite proficient in accurately launching her tools at mechs, including Viisaus. The only problem was that the chucklehead had learned to dodge her thrown tools far too quickly for her liking.
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"I'm sorry, sir... but there's nothing that can be done. Fixer's hoverdisk is as good as we can get it... but she won't be able to follow you onto the field any longer... it's only good for short-range travel..."
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"Get out of my repair bay." Viisaus blinked dumbly as he swayed back and forth. He had been overcharged before... But today... Today was the worst she had ever seen him... He had taken to getting overcharged pretty much every slagging solar cycle... It frightened and frustrated her. Ever since they had both been shipped out to this backwater station, Viisaus had begun to change... He had ceased to be the optimistic, prim-and-proper field commander that she had assisted all through his Academy days and throughout the war. What stood before her was a mockery of the mech who had willingly and more often than not gladly brought her along when he had gone out to the battlefield. "NOW, slaggit! And don't you EVER come back here, or I swear, a processor ache will be the least of your slagging problems, glitch-head!!!"
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"Fixer, the latest recruits are here... Please go over Torque's file. It may be of interest to you." Oooh, that slagger had a LOT of nerve... Grumbling a bit, Fixer adjusted her reading machine carefully as the file regarding the navy and tan-colored mech loaded. It wasn't long before she was pausing, and making the machine go over a few lines again to make sure she had heard it correctly. Then there was a soft tap at the door, just before the very mech she had been reading about entered the waiting area of the repair bay. Fixer regarded the young mech with a bit of a scowl on her face, watching as the mech named Torque gave her what she guessed was a hopeful and friendly smile. Moments later, there was a loud CLANG as she walloped him upside the head. "Go put your slag in your quarters, mech." The numbskull would be just fine out here. Of that, Fixer was certain.
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"You slagging stupid glitching misfire!" A loud CLANG as a portable arc welder made contact with the door. "You &@#$@#&$% miserable misaligned piece of slagging cosmic rusted SCRAP!!!" A second CLANG as a hose clamp hit the wall directly behind where Ariel had been standing mere astroseconds before. "You #$%#$^& pitiful excuse for a bot!!!" Then the pink femme was running as though the Unmaker's minions were after her. Outside the repair bay, Chromia and Firestar could be heard talking, but rage and distance made their words impossible to decipher at the time.
It would be only four cycles later that Ariel's terrified screech as she bolted for the shuttle could be heard. When Fixer heard about how Chromia had parked Ariel on the back of her skimmer bike for one of the debris field races, she couldn't help but snort and shake her head. Really... Ariel, of all 'Bots, trying to fix Torque's glitch... Knowing full well that the mech would have lost all of his personality... Some 'bots had more looks than processing power, it seemed.
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"Ah, Fixer, if I could have a word with you, preferrably in private?" Great. The slaarg-kisser wanted to 'have a word' with her... Wait... He had actually... It couldn't be... could it?
It could. Viisaus had sworn off high grade for good... And he had apologized for being a slagging git as well. Fixer had to poke herself someplace that tended to be painful before she could make sure she wasn't still in a defrag cycle. Maybe... Just maybe... Things would start looking up...
Present day...
"He'll be alright, given time to rest and recover... You got him out of there quickly enough to ensure that, at least... It will be awhile before he's fully recovered though. Keep him off his stabilizing servos till his gyros have had a chance to re-integrate... His optic will have to be replaced when he's stronger..." Fixer scowled at the blanket-covered form on the repair table.
"That slagger... I would've been able to get out of the way just fine on my own, but no... Chucklehead here had to go and be a slagging chivalrous glitch-head..." The very soft chuckle from the table startled her, as well as the medic who had come to assist with repairs.
"How long... have you known me... Fixer?" Viisaus' working optic had that slagging amused glimmer in it that he got when he knew what Fixer really meant. If not for the fact that he was on spark support, as well as hooked up to several different machines... Oh, slaggit... Balancing carefully using both stabilizing servos and her cane, Fixer belted Viisaus a good one.
"Hey! He's still not-" The medic practically withered under the acerbic look Fixer gave him, which earned another round of soft chuckling from Viisaus before the injured Prime powered down to rest. Fixer snorted quietly, before settling in one of the provided chairs. The next time her brother woke, she'd have WORDS for him...