"Ironhide?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Megatron's weapons specialist?"
"That's what he said."
Jazz eyed the medic incredulously. "And you're just gonna take his word for it?"
Ratchet huffed. "Of course not. I didn't emerge from the Well of AllSparks yesterday." He finished gathering his diagnostic tools from the med bay before stepping out into the hangar. The ship had landed in Iacon a half joor ago, and everyone else who had been onboard was now elsewhere. Ratchet had stayed behind to prepare the ship's med bay for its next use, then Jazz showed up and had been following on the medic's heels ever since, hoping to procure more details about the mission.
The silver minibot continued with his questions, completely undeterred by his companion's gruff retorts.
"Then how do you plan to find out for sure?"
Ratchet stopped beside the small search and rescue ship, which looked significantly larger now that it was inside. "I've already asked Punch to verify everything the Decepticon said. I'm just waiting for his report."
"Gotcha..." Jazz leaned nonchalantly against the ship's hull. "So where's the 'Con now? In the brig?"
"No, the med bay."
"The med bay!" Jazz quickly pushed himself off the hull to return to a standing position. "Someone's watchin' him, right?"
"Calm down, Jazz. I sedated him. Everything's fine."
The silver minibot was not quite convinced. "You sure?"
"Positive." Ratchet turned to to leave. "Now, I suggest you go get some recharge."
"Whatever you say, Doc."
"And stop calling me that!" the medic yelled over his shoulder as he continued walking. Jazz only grinned, watching him go.
As Ratchet left the hangar, a ping on his internal comm system indicated that the report he had been waiting for was ready. He accessed it while also sending a quick message to Optimus, notifying him that the Decepticon prisoner was in stasis in the med bay and that he himself would be there shortly.
The medic knew that he probably should have gone to recharge as well. It was already very late and his HUD kept reminding him that he had hardly recharged in the past few orns, but he wanted to get things settled in the med bay first. Then he could go to the wash racks. Then he could recharge.
The walk to the med bay did not take long. Ratchet was there in a matter of breems.
He was glad to find that no one was around. No one besides his patient, anyway. His Decepticon patient. Oh, the irony of that situation... Ratchet had been shot at on more occasions than he cared to remember, and had even been hit a few times, yet here he was treating one of them.
But in all honesty, Ratchet was not rendering aid to the mech simply because he had been ordered to do it—he had been, but even if he had not, he would have done it anyway. He would have because it was the right thing to do, and because he could not stand to see another Cybertronian in pain. Even if it was a Decepticon who deserved it.
Curse his medical programming, making him care about even an enemy.
Ratchet walked over to the berth where Ironhide lay in induced stasis. He ran another scan over the unconscious mech, tabulating the results and then comparing them with those he had obtained previously.
His overall condition was improving, his fractures had set properly, and all of his vital signs looked good. In short, he was recovering well and as expected. Ratchet entered the data into Ironhide's medical file.
Having completed his evaluation of the black mech's critical injuries, the medic began checking for any minor damage that had not yet been treated. Then he noticed the three faded but still visible glyphs that were imprinted on the Decepticon's helm.
Ratchet had seen the glyphs earlier, but they had been so covered in sandy dust that he had not really been able to read them. He moved closer, brushing some of the dust away.
To his surprise, the glyphs represented honor, courage, and strength. While the last two seemed more or less fitting for a Decepticon, the first one definitely did not.
Honor...
The last time Ratchet had seen a mech bearing that glyph, he thought his life was over. He was sure of it. In the middle of the battlefield, staring down the barrel of the most formidable weapon he had ever seen and caught in the frighteningly intense red glare of the mech wielding it, he knew it was the end. He had thought about his patient who still needed him, and he thought about how he was letting his team down and how he was powerless to do anything about it. And the strange thing was, after those thoughts, he had thought about how ironic it was to be needlessly terminated by a mech who bore any symbol of honor. He could see the glyph so clearly as he just waited for the Decepticon to fire...
"Ratchet?"
"Hmm?" Ratchet pushed the thought away, and looked up to see Optimus standing a short distance from him.
"Are you all right?" the Prime asked gently.
"I'm fine. Just... tired." It was a true statement. True enough, at least.
Optimus studied him for a moment longer, not seeming entirely convinced by the explanation, but he did not press the matter. "It has been a long orn."
"You can say that again." Ratchet was relieved to change the subject. "It isn't very often that we capture a high-ranking Decepticon."
"Indeed not." Actually, it had only happened twice. Including this time.
Optimus and Ratchet both turned at the sound of another mech entering the med bay. It was Jazz, and the smaller Autobot quietly closed the door behind himself before he moved to stand by the wall.
Ratchet sighed, running a hand over his face and muttering under his breath, "Primus, does that mech ever recharge?"
Optimus moved to the side of the berth opposite Ratchet, to avoid blocking Jazz's view and to get a closer look at their prisoner. Jazz, for his part, seemed perfectly comfortable observing from a distance.
The Prime looked back at Ironhide, who was completely still except for the gentle cycling of air through his vents, cooling his systems as he recharged. The Autobot leader also noted that the mech's wrists were bound by stasis cuffs, but his ankles were not. It was evidently because of his injuries.
"So this is Ironhide, the Decepticon weapons specialist?" Optimus knew of the mech, but had not actually seen him before.
"Yes," Ratchet replied. "And he also serves as a field commander in Megatron's army."
"I see." Then the black Decepticon was not just a weapons engineer—he was skilled in combat as well. "How much of a fight did he put up?"
"When he was captured? About as much as you would expect, given his condition. However, he was quite well-behaved on the ship. He even spoke openly with me for a while, until his fatigue got the best of him. Punch also confirmed that everything he told me was true. I found that surprising, considering his affiliation."
"I am not entirely surprised. From what little I know about Ironhide, he seems to be one of the few Decepticons who values honesty."
"Blunt honesty, maybe," Jazz cut in from where he was watching across the med bay. He started walking over to the berth.
"I thought I told you to go recharge," Ratchet griped, not trying to hide his exasperation.
Jazz was not flustered in the least. He knew Ratchet well enough to know that the medic's temper was just a coping mechanism, and it was nothing personal. "You did, and I was, but... I don't know. I got bored."
"You got bored? How can you possibly get bored when you're not awake?"
Jazz just shrugged, smiling wryly at the medic's annoyed glare, before turning to look at Ironhide. "So... this 'Con is at least somewhat honest, huh?"
"It appears so." Optimus paused, his expression becoming thoughtful. "I believe he does not yet understand that Megatron values no such thing. We may have an opportunity to convince him to leave the Decepticon cause."
"You think he'd join us?" Jazz was doubtful.
"That I do not know. It would depend on where his loyalties truly lie, and how strongly he has committed himself against the Autobots. Perhaps it is possible."
Although Ratchet did not personally think that it was a likely scenario, he respected his leader's judgment. "Perhaps, Optimus. Would you like to be here when he comes out of stasis?"
Optimus considered that for a moment. "No. I am not sure how he will react to my presence, and I do not wish for him to feel unduly threatened. I will see him after he has had some time to adjust."
"Very well. I'll keep you updated on his condition."
"Thank you, Ratchet. How long do you plan to keep him in stasis?"
"I've administered enough sedative to last the night. He should regain consciousness on his own soon after it wears off, though he probably won't be completely lucid right away."
As if in response to the medic's claim, Ironhide's venting pattern changed, becoming quicker and more erratic.
Jazz glanced anxiously at Ratchet. "Is he... waking up?"
"No, that's just part of his recharge cycle. It's a sign that he's recharging properly."
Optimus glanced at the medic. "Perhaps you should also get some rest, Ratchet."
"Shouldn't we all, Prime?"
The flame-patterned mech chuckled at that. "Indeed. Let's go."
/* * */
Ironhide came to very early the next orn. He never remembered waking up so sluggishly before—it was as if his systems did not want to respond to his processor's commands. It was rather disconcerting, as was the dull yet widespread pain in his chassis that finally registered after his systems finished rebooting. He tried to recall how he had gotten injured, but found he could not concentrate enough to do even that.
He took a few deep vents to steel himself before onlining his optics.
It was bright. Too bright. He squinted against the harsh overhead lighting and tried to focus on his surroundings. Though his vision remained fuzzy, he could make out the distinct shapes of medical equipment above him. It did not look like the Kaon med bay... He shuttered his optics, the brightness finally being too much to endure. He was dimly aware that something near him was beeping, but he gave it no more thought as he blindly attempted to haul himself to a sitting position.
"Easy, Ironhide."
Ironhide felt someone pushing him back, trying to limit his movement. He reacted to the touch instantly, and attempted to power up his weapons.
"Easy... It's all right. I'm not going to hurt you."
When his weapons failed to activate, Ironhide onlined his optics and was met with the bright blue gaze of the Autobot medic, who was standing next to him.
Ratchet lightly pressed his hand against Ironhide's chest plates, coaxing him to lie back down. "Don't try to get up just yet."
Now remembering everything that had happened, Ironhide did not resist the medic's order. He leaned back against the flat metal surface of the berth and sighed heavily, closing his optics before once again giving in to the fatigue that had beleaguered him ever since he had woken up on the desert floor.
/* * */
Ironhide onlined several more times during the remainder of the orn, and Ratchet was always nearby to monitor his patient's condition.
The weapons specialist was becoming increasingly more alert and aware of his surroundings, a sign that his condition was continuing to improve. He could also stay awake for longer amounts of time, even though it was never for more than a joor or two.
"How much longer does he have to be on the drip?" Jazz had asked Ratchet on one of the occasions when Ironhide was in recharge.
"Another orn at least. It depends on how readily his systems adapt to it."
Jazz had not really been surprised. He was not a medic, but even he knew that was to be expected. Ironhide had lost a lot of energon, and considering the bulky mech's sizable frame, his transfusion would necessarily take a while. Receiving it too quickly would cause him to feel nauseous, if not purge his tanks.
Not that Jazz was inclined to care if a Decepticon felt a little queasy. Why Ratchet did was beyond him. Perhaps it was just the medic's dissimilar medical programming kicking in, or maybe he wanted to conduct his own evaluation of the the potentially dangerous mech that had been placed under his care, but Ratchet seemed rather acquiescent to the whole situation.
While Ironhide had for the most part acted civilly, Jazz could not help but worry about what would happen if the weapons specialist chose to turn on his Autobot captors. Primus, the mech's oversized cannons probably had enough firepower to level the entire med bay—and then some. They were not currently functional, but still...
Jazz just hoped that Optimus knew exactly how he was going to handle this Decepticon.
