Tranformers (c) Hasbro
Rodimus Prime was confused, though that was nothing short of an understatement. His whole frame felt heavy, numb and oddly tingly. But the Comic Rust was gone, that much he was sure of. So the question remained; who had cured it?
He had been out of stasis for a good joor with nothing to do but lie flat and silently brood. Though online, the sedation he was under kept him both immobile and system locked; this included both his motor and sensory functions.
During this period, the Prime had had much time to reflect. He had moved from thoughts of self-depreciation, to righteous anger at the Decepticons. At one point the target of his irrational resentment had even wavered over to the Elite Guard themselves, though this was short lived. The point was that Rodimus had pondered, contemplated, and mulled. He'd done this scrupulously. And his processor had long since run out of profound topics. In short, Rodimus Prime was bored. Extremely so.
Up until now the sedation had actually been a rather welcome release; giving him the time he needed to get his processor straight. But now he was ready to get moving...something he didn't think would be happening any time soon.
The Prime rubbed his forehead in frustration. And those irritating bleeps weren't making him feel any less-
Wait.
Rodimus froze. His arms were functional? He gave his servo a clench for good measure. The stinging sensation of energon lines redirecting their flow prickled his hand. But this was a welcome feeling compared to the frustrating numbness of before. The sound of metallic 'clinks' and an indiscernible, static lathed conversation brushed his audios. Did that mean...?
He cautiously onlined his optics...only to hastily offline them again. The blinding glare of an overhead light left his processor throbbing and low groan buzzed from his vocaliser as the sedation faded and pain slowly flared throughout his body.
"Oh! You're awake!" an unfamiliar voice sounded from somewhere to his right. Rodimus onlined a single blue optic, canting his head in the direction of the voice. He was greeted with a blue visor and white mask....which was a little too close for comfort.
"Umm...would you mind backing up a little?" he grunted, too pained to jerk away. Visor glinting in what must have been his equivalent of a blink, the mech hastily stepped back.
"Sorry! I was just finishing up adjusting your processor's sensory input" the bot, whom Rodimus assumed a medic, explained. "You can see and hear everything right?"
The Prime gave affirmative rumble, soothing his hands over his throbbing faceplates.
"Well that's a relief!" a new voice, from somewhere to his left, cut in. "The last thing we need is an offline Prime's corpse on our ship! Though things were looking pretty shaky with that Cosmic Rust a while back...Just a piece of good fortune that Aid had some of the famous Perceptor's Corrostop handy! But even then there was apparently some critical internal damage he had to fix. Poor guy almost burned himself out, not to mention you're teammates were seriously glitching over-"
Rodimus, who had only been half-listening to this new mech's incessant prattle sharply onlined both optics at the mention of his team. Hastily sitting up, despite his joints and plating's aching protests, he focussed on the bot.
"Oh you probably shouldn't be moving around too much so soon! I once knew this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy's cousin who-"
"Where are my team?" Rodimus cut the grey bot off, expression suddenly intense. The other's optics were bright.
"Those guys? Aid fixed them up cycles ago! They could really be anywhere on the shuttle; probably in the hangar or in the command centre. Though Red Alert is generally in here, I think she was here earlier actually! She probably went to go recharge or get energon, or something. Ironhide is most likely wherever Chromia is; I'm pretty sure he's got the hots for her seen as he's been constantly following her around like a lost turbo-puppy and- OW!" A sharp clang rang out and the grey bot nursed his helm as a familiar impressive red frame loomed over him.
"Don't you ever shut up?" Ironhide growled.
"Not while I'm online" was the mumbled response. "Though there have been times when- mmph!" the rest of his monologue was muffled as a slim servo clamped over his mouth.
"Come on Blue. I think the guy needs a little rest before he's ready to deal with your speeches" a young female voice giggled, gently pulling the grey mech out of the room. A cyan helm sporting a bright grin momentarily poked back around the doorframe.
"Glad to see you're online!" she called back in before disappearing once again. Ironhide gave a rough snort.
"Fragging younglings" he grunted, dumping himself onto a nearby chair. Rodimus fixed the mech with an exasperated stare.
"Care to explain where the frag we are?" he impatiently snapped. His processor throbbed, his body ached, and on top of that he, apparently, had been the most severely damaged out of his whole team. It would be a long mega-cycle before the Prime managed to restore his damaged pride.
Overlooking the sharp tone, Ironhide responded calmly, "Shortly after Team Charr pummelled our afts, they were getting ready to finish the job. Luckily Chromia's team happened to be passing over the sector; they basically fought off the 'cons long enough to get us into their shuttle" he absently rubbed the back of his helm, the beginnings of an impish grin stretching his faceplates, "Slag, you should'a seen her. Never saw a femme fight like that before"
Rodimus stared blankly at his comrade; he could practically see the pinkish haze fogging up Ironhide's optics. Lovesick dope.
"Ah, you're awake" an all too recognizable female voice sounded from the doorway. Red Alert briskly waltzed to his berth-side and instinctively performed a medical scan. "Fully recovered too, I see. Thank you First Aid" she turned from her commander towards the other medic whom Rodimus had awoken to.
"You don't have to thank me! It's my job to heal others" he hastily stated, gingerly shifting the wrench in his hands. The Prime hadn't noticed it before now, but the mech's voice was notably young; perhaps even younger than Hot Shot....speaking of which, where was he? And Brawn for that matter?
"Where are the other two?" he asked, awkwardly attempting to remove himself from the berth.
Red Alert promptly moved to his side and placed his arm over her shoulder, "Hot Shot can usually be found with either Bluestreak or Moonracer, though he likes to hover in the command deck as well. As for Brawn; the last I saw of him, he appeared to be in the beginnings of a fight with Blades..." she shrugged her Primeless-shoulder.
"Oh for the love of-! Please don't tell me it's over the same thing as before?" First Aid despairingly questioned, hand over mask.
"The very same" was the bored answer, "Don't let it bother you Aid, just let them tear each other apart...or wait until Chromia intervenes and does it herself" Ironhide gave giddy guffaw at this. Rodimus was unsurprised at the brusque medic's tenor, though an optic ridge rose in query.
"And what would Brawn be picking fights over now?" He knew the mech was a brawler (it was in the name after all) but the Prime would have thought him to have enough character to show at least a little more gratitude towards the bots that, apparently, had saved their lives.
"It's noth-"
"Brawn has a very vocal issue with First Aid's work ethics" Ironhide cut the young medic off, making a beeline for the med-bay exit, "Chromia wanted us to report to her as soon as you onlined" he explained, gesturing for him and Red Alert to follow.
Rodimus blandly thought 'whipped'
"Basically, he's a pacifist and has treated more than one 'con in his time as a medic" Red Alert continued, ignoring the younger medics feeble protests from behind them. "You can imagine Brawn's reaction I'm sure" Rodimus most assuredly could. Doubtless the naturally aggressive mech was downright revolted by such an outlook.
"And he's had a tendency to say one or two thoughtless things, if not in front of the kid himself, his brother. And Blades, also a rather violent mech, is less than impressed with Brawn's attitude" Ironhide drawled, tone greatly amused.
"And you can also imagine how that works itself out. Either they tear into each other until one or both of them are in stasis-"
"Or until Chromia breaks them up" the red mech merrily added. Rodimus had the feeling that "breaks them up" meant more than merely stopping the fight.
The Prime gave a snort, "So when do I get to meet this Chromia anyway?"
"Right about now" a new voice cut in and the Prime only avoided colliding with the suddenly immobile back of Ironhide due to Red Alerts firm grip on him.
He furrowed his optic ridges in confusion, helm straining to see beyond the wide, red form. His own soft blue optics locked with sharp icy ones. They belonged to an equally blue, solid femme form. Two other frames (one Rodimus instantly acknowledged as Brawn, the other most likely being Blades) swayed unsteadily at her sides, both with a firm, blue-handed grip on their neck plates. The Prime for the life of him couldn't remember the last time, if ever, he'd seen his teammate so subdued.
"Rodimus I'm guessing" Chromia's voice cut into his musings. The Prime blinked once and opened his mouth to answer. However, clearly not interested in his conventional response, the blue femme briskly crossed the hallway, all but dragging the stumbling mechs along with her.
"Could I borrow a moment of your time Aid?" the gentle, fond way she spoke to the medic gave the Prime an instant indication of just how 'tolerant' she would have been towards Brawn's manner.
A weak sigh sounded from behind him, "No problem, I'll have them both patched up in a joor"
"Tch, don't waste your resources; Primus knows the morons will have slagged each other up by the next cycle anyway! You're better off keeping one or both of them under until we reach Cybertron...Though I'd say both; wouldn't put if past one of them to try to assault the other in recharge" the femme drawled, roughly shoving the frames into the waiting arms of Ironhide.
"Come on you two processor-less bulkheads" he snarled, dragging them back in the direction of the med-bay, First Aid unenthusiastically following. Various growled remarks about them wasting Chromia's time reached Rodimus' audios. Wow....whipped indeed.
"So..." Chromia's voice reclaimed his attention, "Let's talk"
Rodimus couldn't be certain, but the way she spoke to him, not a hint of affability or camaraderie in her tone, sent warnings off in the Prime's observant processor.
It was at this point that he finally saw the femme up-close, standing less than an inch over her yet still feeling tiny under her intense blue gaze. But that was not what had caused his frame to go completely rigid, fuel pumps twisting under the sharp sting of shock and optics widening beyond their natural size.
The Autobot insignia displayed across her chestplate had two very clear, very deliberate slashes across it...The kind of slashes unique to but one type of bot, Autobot and Decepticon alike...
"...deserter"
Suddenly the Prime longed for his previous, immensely preferable, deeply sedated state. It would sure as Pit beat what was to come in this confrontation.
Author's Note: Gah! I just had to finish this chapter =.= the flipping thing has been rotting away on my laptop for the last few months (t'was getting annoying) I'm not even sure I'm gonna finish it...but wha'evah! Anyways, this is just a persistent little plot bunny that got wedged between my brain crevices and kept gnawing until I finished writing it...pretty picture eh? ;D
Basically spawned from my mutual love of filling plot holes and brining in TF:A neglected characters =3 And let me just say this: Ironhide is ADOREABLE when besotted X'D Such a goggle-eyed little sweet-heart TTwTT Roddy's gonna be face-palming a LOT in the future 8D