I don't own Transformers except in some very wistful daydreams.
Recalibrate Chapter Two
In the jet he got a com from Soundwave. His master sent a comprehensive reprimand about not following orders, ending with, "Too close to Autobot lines, hostage to prevent capture of Prowl. " Glit felt like so much scrap and that came over the com to his master. "Glit, much missed," Soundwave added. "Hook : angry. Grunts, unhappy. Will retrieve. Five Autobots taken, exchange soon. "He paused. " Limit speech with Autobots." Worry came over with that last com, and Glit wondered why.
It was Glit's first experience as a passenger in any kind of airship, and he hated every second of it. The moment the jet touched ground and opened up, Gilt jumped out, eager to get on solid ground. He forgot about the stasis cuffs in his hurry and wound up sprawled at the feet of one of the mechs that captured him. The red mech snorted in amusement and picked him up to carry him to the medbay.
He hated the process that followed even more. Within the next few joors, he endured being searched, with his com off-lined. Compared to what Autobot captives endured, he got gentle treatment, but he still found the process humiliating. He said nothing until the yellow mech opened one of his toolboxes. Each tool fit his servos perfectly. "Those are specialized tools, you idiot! I've repaired both of you more than once with those. Leave them alone before you break them!" If he lost them, it would take forever to replace them if they were replaced at all. He struggled.
"We have to search for weapons," the red mech said as he held Glit back.
"Stop, Sunstreaker," came a tired voice. The three looked over to see Prowl sitting up. Ratchet came in, attracted by the commotion, and produced a wrench. Prowl lay back down hastily. "Ratchet, would you examine Glit's equipment?" The red and white medic took the toolbox, shoving Sunstreaker out of the way. The medical tools looked like toys in Ratchet's much larger servos but he treated them with great care.
"I can't let you keep these, "the Autobot medic informed Glit as he repacked the toolbox. "Too many of them can be used as a weapon. I'll keep them locked in here, with my equipment. " The medic left with the equipment in his hand.
Glit hunched his shoulders and blew air out of his intakes. "Maybe I should have left you when Soundwave called me," he grumbled, and sent the twins a sour look.
"I do not wish to sound ungrateful, "Prowl stated, "but I admit to wondering why you did not. " With some care the Autobot second in command pushed himself to his elbow to look down at the feline medic.
"Yeah," Sideswipe said. He picked Glit up and put him on the berth next to Prowl's. "We heard you got into trouble not too long ago, fixing one of us. That's why we grabbed you. I thought Skyfire told you."
"He did," Glit admitted, and chose not to add that the ploy worked. He curled up on the berth, lowering his golden optics to the floor as unpleasant memories rose in his processor. "Lie down," he scolded Prowl. "I didn't get in this mess to watch you to tear out the patch." Sideswipe and Sunstreaker laughed as Prowl lay back down.
"Good thing you already cleared out his subspace pockets," a green mech commented as he came in, "or you might be ducking a wrench." Behind him came another black and white mech, who looked at Glit's guards and nodded to the door. They left without another word, glancing back at Glit as they went.
"I don't need a wrench," Glit sniped. "Any grunt gives me a problem, I stop and tell them go to Hook. You'd be surprised how fast they settle down." That, and no grunt wanted to get on Soundwave's bad side. Ever.
The two mechs smiled. "I'm Hoist, and I'm going to check you over. " He paused and his voice turned stern as he said, "Now, I'm going to take these cuffs off, and you aren't going to give me any trouble. Right?"
"Not with your head of Special Ops standing there, no." Glit remembered Jazz, and wondered why the Autobot third in command came in. With the second in command lying in the medbay, didn't he have better things to do than guard a prisoner? Besides, he was too tired to put up a useless fight. He'd spent most of the day tearing around a battlefield.
Hoist took off the cuffs, handed them to Jazz, and proceeded to give Glit a through check-up. Jazz studied Glit the entire time, which made the Decepticon medic nervous until he figured out what Jazz was looking at. "Why are you so fascinated with my forelegs?" he asked.
Hoist looked puzzled. Jazz looked away. Prowl said, "We received conflicting reports on what happened to you after you repaired Jazz. One account said your forelegs were cut off. Hoist?"
The medic put away the last of his tools. "I didn't see any indication of that," he admitted. "But Hook is a good surgeon."
Glit snorted. "He's a slagging perfectionist, but he's not that good. You'd've noticed something. " His body shifted into a defensive posture as he remembered that day. The hot sun on his plating, Megatron's huge hands holding down his forelegs as he raised a sword, and the rumble that distracted the Decepticon leader. "When the grunts realized what Megatron was about to do, they protested, all of them. He reversed the decision, ordering brig time instead." By this time he looked exactly like a frightened cat ready to strike out or run.
Jazz pulled air into his intakes and blew it out in a sigh. "Primus. Well, since I couldn't do it at the time, I thought I'd bring a thank you now while you're available." He pulled a bottle out of his subspace. The others brightened as soon as they saw what Jazz held. Hoist fetched a couple of empty cubes. Glit watched in bewilderment as Jazz poured five cubes. "Take one," Jazz invited him as Ratchet came in. Glit did. He didn't drink until the others did. His first cautious sip became a bigger drink, which he savored. It was mid-grade, but the best mid-grade he'd ever tasted.
Jazz watched as Glit sipped, taking his time. "I find it hard to believe Megatron only put you in the brig," Jazz said when Glit got through half of his cube.
"Ha. I wish," he said. Glit noticed how Jazz watched him, and didn't care. The energon left him almost as relaxed as energon wine did. He lay flat on the berth now. He noticed hazily how comfortable it was. "That was where I went, but so did a few Autobot prisoners. " He drank more of the energon. "There was a little one, he was red. And then there was a purple one. I remember how both of them cursed up a storm when the guards dragged them in. " He started to hunch up again and almost fell off the berth. "What's in this stuff?"
"It had a mild relaxant effect," Ratchet said, as Hoist caught the Decepticon. "That sounds like Cliffjumper and Huffer. I expect they gave you a hard time."
"They were cursing up a storm, yeah, but they weren't the ones that gave me a hard time. Hook did some kind of hook-up and off-lined my vocalizer before they started the interrogation." He gulped at the cube.
The Autobots looked at each other. As one, they downed their cubes. "They made you go through an interrogation second-hand," Ratchet repeated.
"With both. By the end of it, I was begging Soundwave through the comm to make it stop, that I'd do anything. Soundwave made me dock when it was over. I couldn't repair them. "He stared at the glow in his cube. Not much was left. The only sound in the room for a time consisted of their vents.
"But you still repaired me and other Autobots on the field today," Prowl said after a moment.
Glit lifted his head and looked from one to the other. His gaze lingered on Jazz. "I kept thinking they'd gone through that because of me, so there'd be no marks from the punishment. " He hissed, defiance in his golden optics. "The next day Megatron called me into his office. He told me that from now on, I'd repair the prisoners, to remind me of what I'd get if I disobeyed him again. That's when I knew what a fool I'd been. Those mechs would've gone through that anyway. They just used it to get to me. "
"Yeah," Jazz said, and the others hummed in agreement. "That's true. So you didn't stop. Aren't worried about getting caught doing it again, like this time? " They all dispersed their cubes.
"Ha," Glit gave out a hissing laugh. "You think you're the only ones who worry about that? I whine and fuss and beg not to do prisoner repairs. Megatron's satisfied he's got me under control. Soundwave tells me to set up an aid station on the battlefield and stay there, like that ever works. The other cassettes cover for me, and the grunts don't see me when I work on one of you. " He flopped on the berth, every system humming pleasantly. Pits, but this stuff was better than energon wine. He'd never felt so relaxed in his existence.
"So Soundwave knows what you're doing?" Hoist asked. "He doesn't try to stop you? I'm surprised he allows that." He moved to the other berth.
"Yeah, well, to the Pit and back with that. I'm not Hook. I'm not an engineer that gets forced into being a medic and hates it." He glared at the four listening Autobots, burning optics like melted gold. "When Soundwave and that fragging piece of purple slag Shockwave," they blinked at the hate in his voice when he mentioned Shockwave," built and programmed me to be a medic, that's what they got. It's what I do, what I am, and I'll slagging well do it my way." He finished his cube in one gulp, not seeing the shock on all their faceplates. He tried to disperse the cube, but his servos wouldn't cooperate. Hoist did it for him.
"Made you," Ratchet said. Glit went alert despite his buzz. A world of pain sounded in that voice.
"Yeah," Glit said. "Soundwave says the mech was dying, and they couldn't save him so they used his spark to make me. " He imitated Soundwave's emotionless tone. "' Glit, created from dying mech. Otherwise, waste of strong spark, needed skills. Better as cassette.'" He slumped back down and drowsed, the long day and the mild relaxant finally working.
He heard a moan and looked up blearily. Jazz and Hoist followed Ratchet out, leaving the door open. "Ratchet, what's wrong?" Hoist said. "You don't think…" he trailed off.
Glit came off the berth, falling on his feet like the felines his form resembled, and scrambled into the other room. Ratchet stood just outside the door, and Glit jumped up, putting his forelegs on the Autobot medic's chest and turning pleading eyes on him. "You know who it was!" he wailed. "Ratchet, tell me, please, I have to know, tell me who it was! Tell me who they killed to make me, please, I have to know!"