Chapter One: Meet the Medic

'You're joining the Autobots?' his quadmate asked over their secure commline.

'I doubt I would hold up well with the Decepticons,' he replied. 'We're slowly deactivating, unable to get enough energon or food.'

'Then we're hedging our bets and I'm joining the Decepticons?' the other queried, already knowing the answer.

'Your frame is better suited to their faction's beliefs, just as my preferred form is going to fascinate the scientists.'

He felt a surge of affection brush against his spark and smiled softly. His quadmate always had been able to anticipate him from just a short word or sentence. He sent his own brush of affection back as he squared his shoulders and hitched his wings into an authoritative position.

There was an audible huff across the commline. 'It's a good thing I was over in Helex on this job then. I'll just sign up here after I finish.'

He hummed softly, pleased that his plan could go into action so soon for his quadmate. 'I will be signing up at Kalis,' he stated as he followed the line of mecha entering the city, scanning his ident chip as he went and sending a shiver up his arm.

'You had a science work permit?'

'No, a record keeper permit that I have already finished, but is still valid by date.'

His quadmate chuckled. 'Of course you would figure out how to make that work.'

The commline cut off abruptly, not that he was expecting any different. The other mech had always been like that and there was no changing it at this late date. He turned his focus to navigating the beltways to the Autobot Recruitment Center, transforming into a predatory speedster and smoothly joining traffic. With the speeds allowed, he was across the city within several short breems and stepping off the beltway to stride up the stairs of the Recruitment Center with an outward confidence he did not feel. His wings were folded tightly behind his frame, the top of the first joint rising past his helm and broadcasting his unease in frame language that was not readable to those around him.

A frontline-framed soldier stepped forward, looking him up and down surreptitiously even as he spoke. "What can I do for you?"

"I am requesting admittance into the Autobot ranks," he replied, posture becoming impossibly straighter than it already was. He had reverted to his earliest formal training in his distress. He had not been Forged for this, having been meant to specialize in staying as unnoticed as possible and to have that ability augmented by further training.

The frontliner grinned crookedly, motioning for him to enter the building first. "You'll wanna go to the far desk," he instructed, waving to the south-east corner of the building. "They'll take yer general stats and distinguishers and get ya yer appointment with the medics. After that, the medics will direct ya to the Evaluators. From there-" he shrugged. "Ya'll find out."

"My thanks," he said, with a dip of his wings signifying the same.

"Jus' try ta avoid the scientists if ya can. Yer frame don't look like it's common and they would love to get their hands on ya. Not always a good thing, if ya get my drift," the frontliner advised, even as he returned to his position by the entrance.

He almost hesitated as he strode towards the sign in desk. What was he thinking, purposely separating he and his quadmate? Such a thing was seldom done, even in their former line of work, because it could put too much of a strain on their sparks and cause complications in their systems that, if they were not reunited shortly thereafter, would usually lead to deactivation. The numbers rarely lied though, and if nothing else, they had to survive. All they had to do was become indispensable to their respective factions - the only real question left was in how they were to accomplish that goal.

There was not a line at this Recruitment Center in Kalis, possibly because it was located right by the majority of the scientific laboratories. The Autobots would probably have to go to the scientists themselves on a recruiting mission if they wished for them to join their ranks, but the location could have been as a strategic jumping off point for the recruiters that did go meet with them. He gave a mental shrug and pushed the question away as the mech manning the desk greeted him.

"Welcome to the Autobot Recruitment Center in northern Kalis, I am Valence. May I scan your ident chip?" the slenderly built mech asked, orange optics showing just how much time he spent there without much outside interaction in how bright they were.

He held out his arm, palm up and wrist bent to expose the chip where he had it implanted many vorns before for easy access - and easy concealment. It was an uncommon placement, usually only used by those that either had to have theirs scanned frequently or those who needed to conceal their original ident chip, though the latter was not widely known.

Valence gave no indication that it was something he had only just come across, something that Prowl had been counting on to help disguise his origins. Once he had input the scan to the datapad, he continued. "There are just a few questions that I have to ask before I can schedule you with a medic. Do you mind taking a seat so that we can get started?"

Prowl folded his frame down into the inappropriate chair, having to hike his wings up high to hang over the arms without crushing the joints and to keep them free of entanglement. "What are your questions?"

"They're just basics," the white mech stated, glancing up from the datapad to look at the unusually framed mech seated before him. "Where you currently have a work permit, what your bond status is, if you know anyone within the Autobot ranks, or if you may know anyone else who will join. Your ident chip holds most of the information I am required to ask, which makes it redundant and something that isn't usually bothered with. Those are actually the only four questions I have to ask."

"My current work permit is through the Kalisian Science Institute, I have only ever had one bond and it is not what it used to be, and I have no knowledge of anyone in the Autobot ranks or of anyone else that would be willing to join." The simplicity of what was asked left much to be desired, in his humble opinion. Nothing was asked in regards to possible security breaches or any contacts within the Decepticons. He also would have asked about personality and about the possible fighting abilities the mecha may possess. There were a number of missed opportunities within this process that were being overlooked by a mech that did not seem to have been trained for his position.

With that information input to the form Valence was working on, the smaller mech stood and motioned for Prowl to follow him. "Our medic may or may not be available, though she is supposed to be. She has a habit of taking in any mech off the street that she believes to be in disrepair. If she isn't available right away, just wait for her to acknowledge you and she will do your medical evaluation. I hope, for your sake, that you are not in major disrepair as she does not take kindly to mecha that do not take care of their frame."

"Thank you," Prowl stated, taking the datapad handed him and the seat that he was motioned towards. He was situated just inside the makeshift med bay's interior entrance and to the right of the doors, taking him out of the way, but still leaving him quite visible to anyone within the room. It was not a bad layout, despite the fact that the room was open enough that his processor was attempting to tell him that he needed to find cover. It suited the needs of the mecha that spent their functioning there, plus he knew that his programming had never been the most conventional - and was even less so after all these vorns.

There was little for him to do as he waited for anyone to appear within the medical bay. He would have liked the companionship of his quadmate over his comm line, but did not want to disturb the mech as he was unsure what he was doing at that time. There would be a short message, flagged as important, available for him whenever he would be able to contact the mech. It was a system that had been set up long before, back when they were still fourth frame younglings and in training, though did not come into being until they had learned to resist any processor hacking.

Eventually, after he had resorted to having downloaded a game and begun playing it on his still-recessed visor, a femme emerged from the opposite side of the room, towing a fifth frame youngling in behind her by the chevron tip. With the medical markings displayed prominently on both frames, he came to the conclusion that she was the medic he was supposed to have an appointment with and the unlucky mechling being brought in was an apprentice that had somehow misbehaved. His wings mantled close to his frame in a useless attempt present himself as less of a target, though he had no need to as most of her attention was on her wayward apprentice.

After having berated her apprentice to her satisfaction, she left him to tend to his slight injury and turned her focus on the new mech within her domain. "What's your reason for being here?" she asked brusquely, though not unkindly, her frame language changing to become much more welcoming and open.

He raised the datapad in his possession even as he answered, "Valence told me that I was to wait here until the medic arrived to give me a medical evaluation. Was that wrong?"

She huffed a short laugh. "That wasn't wrong, youngling. I'll need you on the berth. What's your designation?" she asked even as she reached to take the datapad from the young mech while he moved further into her domain and revealed more of his frame to her scrutiny. It was definitely one that she had no prior experience with, one that she had never even had any instruction in through either her mentor or the textbooks she had studied so thoroughly back in Protihex Medical Mechanics University.

"My designation is Prowl, medic," he answered, his wings lifting so that he could take a seat on the med bay berth before they resettled close to his frame, though spread further than they had been. He was very uneasy, though it was not obvious through his frame language, both by design and by the sheer unfamiliarity of the frame type to any other that was currently made.

"Torque," she introduced herself, taking in the lightweight frame before her with unrestrained curiosity. Hopefully he would be assigned to her regular base, as most of those from the Kalis Recruitment Centers were, so that she could actually learn about the frame in front of her. If her quick searches on the DataNet were correct, then it was an extinct subclass of frames that had last been seen several millennia ago. Also revealed were the common specs of the frame as had been documented by medics that had been allowed to study them before they were entirely extinct. "Is there anything that you believe to be wrong with your frame? How well have you been able to keep up with the upkeep of your frame?"

He took a moment to catalogue his frame, looking over all of the low-grade warnings that had built up since he and his quadmate had been deemed unusable and decommissioned. "There is nothing that requires a lot, but I am low on several fluids and have some minor joint wear that could be taken care of. We - I have also not had access to supplements in some time and could benefit from several, though I am not quite sure if my list is comprehensive. The only other thing that could cause problems is that I no longer have control over the micro-transformation for my claws. I am relegated to just my digits."

The care he took in answering was appreciated, though she was still going to do a thorough check through the entirety of his frame and programming. Torque would have a better idea of what she would recommend he be considered for in relation to training for the Autobot army that was forming. She connected to the datapad via a hardline and skimmed through the information even as she turned to pick up a scanner that she would start with. "It says here that you have a bond but that it is 'not what it used to be'. Can you elaborate on what you mean by that?"

"May I have your confidentiality and that portion of my medical file locked?" he requested, the longest feathers of his wings flexing slightly to signify his nervousness.

That brought her attention spinning back to him. Whatever information he had to share was going to be a bombshell, as it normally was when such a request was made. "Should I lock your medical file to the medical caste or should it be to my ident chip?"

His wings relaxed minutely in relief. Getting on the bad side of any medic was unwise and he had been unsure whether this would land him there or not. "I would prefer it be locked to your ident chip and, if you would like, also to your apprentice's ident chip. It is sensitive information and not something that most are aware is possible."

"I am drawing up the paperwork," she stated as she filled out the required forms and uploaded them to to the datapad she was still connected to. Looking through the history connected to his ident chip, she discovered that it was almost too clean and showed the history of an overachiever that had faced a number of different hardships. She handed the datapad back to the winged mech and waited for him to sign his glyph below hers. She had taken the option of also allowing her apprentice access, being a practical femme that knew the war was going to escalate further than many currently believed.

He handed it back to her even as he began to answer her unvoiced prompting. "I was brought online as part of a Quad that began life as a third frame youngling so that we could absorb all of our training to a subconscious level without it being programmed in. We had much more to learn than what a normal pre-programmed mecha needed. My surviving quadmate and I were decommissioned upon the death of our other two quadmates and turned out onto the streets to fend for ourselves. Do you know much about Quads?"

"I know the basics that are taught, but have had no contact with any myself. Not many Quads are created as there is not a high demand for them."

"No, we are not in high demand. There has to be a specific need and we are considered to be worthless after even one member dies. What most do not know, or understand, is that those that have their frames deactivated do not always also have their spark extinguished. That spark will then join with one of the others in the quad and they will fuse together. Both my quadmate and I were fortunate enough to have both of our quadmates' sparks be of the type that joined with ours. Normally, those that do not have that ability are driven insane with bond-loss and grief. According to the medic that examined us afterwards, we now read as having a bond that is similar to that of twins. There is little to no literature on this that I am aware of, so I am unsure how we will be affected by distance or separation of any type."

She went over the information again before finally saying something. "Twins, I have some experience with. We will have to monitor your situation closely so that we can make sure that you do not deteriorate, though I would feel better to also have your quadmate under my, and my apprentice's, care. I'm going to still do a full work up of your frame, though I would have to in light of this information in any case. I had been planning on doing so anyway as there are no current scans of your frame type and we will have to have a baseline for any improvements or deterioration. Do you have any contact information for your quadmate that can be made available to us in case something does happen to destabilize your spark or you are almost deactivated, as that can put a strain on the bond as well?"

"I have his comm line number and have entered it in the form. It is as secure as we could make it, but there is always the possibility that it could be hacked." His wings lifted again before resettling around him.

"You also stated that you are a preprogram that was brought online as a third frame youngling, correct?" she verified. His answering nod was enough. "Normally, pre-programs are brought online in their final adult frame. What function did your Quad serve for that to not have been sufficient?"

"We were Black Ops for the Praxian Enforcers, tasked with taking down the crime families and some of the gangs. Technically, we are law enforcement caste, but we were trained on how to craft new identities and blend seamlessly into any caste that we were operating within, with the exception of the medical caste. One of my quadmates was a trained medic, however. He made sure that we had a list of medics he had come in contact with that he would trust with our care." In fact, the only reason that he had put the plan into effect was that he had done some digging and some spying to find out which medic was stationed at the recruitment center. He had no idea how Traction had come in contact with Torque, but was not going to question his luck.

She vaguely recalled having heard something about that at some point in her career, but had never had any contact with any mecha from that caste after she graduated from the University. Her studies had been focused more on crash-related injuries and large-scale trauma, which those in the law enforcement caste seemed to rarely be involved in for all that they worked with, and through, all of the incidents. Even when they were involved, they were treated by their own medics. As she thought further, she realized that she had never met a medic that was specially trained for the law enforcement caste and had to wonder whether that was intentional or not. Perhaps, like the mech sitting before her, even the medics were preprograms.

He felt the scanner run over his frame, tingles tracing its path across his plating. That, at least, was familiar. Both he and his surviving quadmate had been run through so many scans and tests in the last several vorns that they were almost immune to the feeling by now, no longer twitching as it passed over their frames like most mecha did. There was little for him to do as the femme finished her testing and filled out some forms, so he returned to the game he had been playing previously.

As she finished, she turned to her cabinet and scanned her ident chip across the lock. The mech was correct in saying that he had not had access to all of the proper additives for his frame in a while as he was quite low on some necessary ones. He would have to suffer through the unpleasant taste of medical additives until he returned to the proper levels and could return to the varied cuisines from around the planet, not that the Autobots had a wide variety or that they paid well enough for the mecha to partake in restaurant trips. In fact, they were quite limited in their selection, even in their regards to the cities and city-states they did have represented.

"I have to ask, though I doubt you have many due to your previous occupation, but do you have any reservations about any of the positions within the Autobot ranks? Mentally, are you prepared for what you would have to do for any of them?" she asked. It was always nice to know beforehand if someone was prone to flying off the handle when it came to something they could be assigned to. Many of the mecha that had applied for a rank did have reservations about some things, so they had been assigned to specific areas in such a way as to minimize their exposure to those limits.

The young mech laughed lowly, feathers flicking, at the question. "I have no reservations about anything I would have to do in regards to functioning within an army. My only reservation is in regards to the other mecha that I will be stationed with as I was Forged as part of a Quad and do not have all of the same social skills that a normal mech would have, though I was trained well in how to hide the lack."

She hummed softly, entering what she considered to be pertinent information on the forms contained by the datapad. If he had no reservations, then she was not going to include any suggestions for the performance evaluator to consider. Sometimes the medical recommendations were the only ones considered and limiting this mech did not seem like it would be one of the smartest ideas.

"I will have Spotweld show you where the evaluator is since he is also scheduled for training soon. Be prepared, Vicegrip is one of the more strict evaluators that we have within the Autobot ranks so far, and he is liable to stay there."

"I will keep that in mind," he stated, standing and stretching his frames and his wings before resettling his feathers and plating.