The medic

Summary: Why are there so few medics later in the war? Where did Ratchet learn his skills, and what made him join the Autobots?

A/N: These don't have to be read with "Story of a lifetime" but they do fit together.

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, I don't make any profit from this.

The medic, chapter 1

The shift was interminably slow. Breem after breem of watching the monitors, with the occasional break to change a filter or purge fluids or run an extra scan.

In fact, he had spent most of the shift idly composing a report on why qualified staff should be entirely exempt from this duty. Any tenth-vorn student could do all of this just as competently. He was a surgery specialist with nearly a century's qualified experience behind him - surely there was something else he could be doing?

Yet here he was, assigned to this boredom joor after joor, orn after orn.

"Ratchet?"

Looking up at the sound of his name, he saw a familiar figure slip in through the ward door.

"Blueflash." he nodded at the femme. "Looking for Scaler? He's not here."

She shook her head, glancing around.

"Just saw him a few breems ago, that's why I'm here. Busy shift?"

He gave her a sardonic look, waving a hand in the direction of his offline and therefore trouble-free charges.

"Busy as ever. What's up?"

"Scaler's got some news about that linking thing he's been working on. A group of us are going to meet him in the lab at Fourth Call. He wants you there too, since you two were the ones who figured it all out in the first place."

"Is that what he's saying?" Ratchet shook his head. "All I did was try to talk some sense into him a few times, and let him talk me into things when we were drunk. Spark stuff is too theoretical for me, I'll stick to surgery thanks."

"But you'll come?"

"He's catering?"

"Does that make a difference?" she teased.

"Maybe." he grinned back, then relented. "Ah, why not. I owe him for last week's teaching shift anyway."

She laughed.

"He said to remind you of that if you wouldn't come."

"Oh he did, did he? Well then maybe I should..."

He got no further as one of the monitors gave a low buzz.

One of his patients had suffered a sudden surge and had burst an energon line. Forgetting about Blueflash completely, he sounded the alarm for the on-call staff and grabbed his tools ready to start the vital surgery without delay.

This, of course, was why it was not a student on duty in the critical care ward and why it never would be.

Opening the lab door just a breem short of Sixth Call, he found the room was empty except for his two friends. They were cleaning up after what had apparently been a large and raucous party.

Blueflash smiled at him and he shrugged.

"Sorry I'm late."

"No problem, we knew you'd turn up eventually. How'd it go?"

He sighed, thinking briefly back to the long joors of tense emergency surgery with a patient who kept nearly offlining completely, then shut off that line of memory.

"He's back in CC. Hopefully this time he'll come through without any more glitches."

"Course he will." Scaler told him heartily, handing him an energon cube. "This time he had the best surgeon in the sector patching him up."

Ratchet snorted at that but took the praise without argument and tasted the energon. To his surprise it was proper high grade, not just the medical equivalent usually used for these impromptu parties.

"So what're you celebrating?"

Scaler grinned.

"I got a grant to expand to full trials."

"That was quick. What's the catch?"

"Who says there is one?"

"Me. The research board never gives out grants that easy."

"Maybe you just don't have my charm." Scaler teased.

Ratchet just looked at him, and Scaler sighed.

"Okay, they want just one more trial done before they hand over the funds and resources. But it'll be easy. All I need to do is a trial with a dozen links. If I can do that, and break it again, and prove that it works then they'll sign off on the grant. See? It's basically mine."

Ratchet grimaced.

"You told me last time would be the last time."

"I thought it would. But this'll be it - definitely. Keylar introduced me to this other scientist, Shockwave, who thinks..."

"Wait a minute." Ratchet stopped him, alarmed by what he had heard in the code designation for this 'Shockwave'. "A military mech? Why're they interested? I thought you were doing this for exploration crews?"

"I was. I mean, I still am. But Shockwave's been working on something similar, except his version isn't working so well. Oh stop looking so scandalised, Ratch - just think about it. If the mil-mechs had properly linked teams they'd be much more effective."

"At what? Creating casualties for us to fix up?"

"Now you're being silly." Blueflash scolded him, refilling his cube and Scaler's. "Who're the military going to hurt? The war ended megavorns ago."

"They still bust each other up." Ratchet pointed out. "And then expect us to fix them. Besides - if they don't need to fight, why do they need to get better at it?"

"Shockwave's in this Decepticon faction." Scaler explained. "You know, the ones planning to go exploring?"

"Oh, speaking of that," Blueflash paused, dropping a pile of empty cubes into the recycling chute, "did you see the notice about the recall yet?"

"Another one?" Ratchet was surprised, simultaneously accessing the main message board. "But we just had one three vorns ago!"

The general recalls were held roughly every fifty vorns to update all field medics in the latest techniques and research. Attendance was compulsory. Anyone who did not attend would be stripped of their registration and not be able to access any of the clinics or medical suppliers until they returned to Ordan Helix for a refresher.

It meant that everyone could trust that their medics were completely up to date. But to have two in such a short period was unheard of, and from what he was reading this next one was scheduled to be in only two orns time.

"Why the short notice?" he demanded.

"You could read the schedule and find out." Scaler suggested.

"Or you could just tell me." Ratchet pointed out, unwilling to open the very large file attached to the memo.

"Fair enough. Basically, it's the Decepticons. Their leader... what's his des? Matador? Megawatt?"

"Megatron, isn't it?" Blueflash asked.

"Whatever." Scaler shrugged. "Anyway, he gave some big speech a few joors ago and said he was going to lead the Decepticons to a new future, starting in five orns time. But he's also talked to the Chief about getting all his staff checked out, and about getting some medics assigned to long-service duties with the Decepticons.

"Keylar's agreed to ask for volunteers from rank three and above, so everyone needs to come back here so mechs can volunteer if they choose and so the faculty can figure out new field rosters to cover those who are going. You could find yourself out in the field after all, Ratch."

Now that was an unpleasant notion.

Having the military mecha gone was good news, but he had no desire whatsoever to be stuck out at some poorly provisioned outpost with substandard equipment and no real clinic to work from. He was a specialist, and Ordan Helix was the only sensible place for him to be. Even so, he felt more positive about the whole thing.

"So why the huge data file?"

"It's got the specs for all the mil-mechs. We gotta do all those check-ups, remember?"

Ah. He knew there had to be a down side. It seemed he was going to be spending the next few orns learning about the finer points of military mech construction. But first, there was a more pressing matter to deal with.

"I don't suppose there's any chance I can get out of being part of your little test group this time?"

Scaler laughed and clapped him on the back.

"Why don't you have another drink and we'll talk about it?