I want to take a moment and thank all who have taken the time to leave me feedback on this story. There will be some plot lines, events and an O.C. mentioned in this that will take place in the full-sized story that I am planning on writing if there is any interest in it. This is a bit AU in that it combines elements of TF Prime and The Bay verse movies…plus a few odds and ends that I have picked up that might or might not be cannon. It takes place a little over two years after the battle in Mission city and the destruction of the All Spark. The events of the second movie, Revenge of the Fallen have occurred but none after. Wheeljack is a combination of the sweet natured engineer/inventor Que…and the rough and ready, engineer turned Wrecker from TFP. The Autobot base is located in an abandoned hidden military facility much like in TFP. Again, I hope you are enjoying this little part of the bigger story. I think there will be one more chapter in this arc.
This is a fanfiction, written for the pure joy of creation, I make not profit from it.
A Prime Opportunity chapter 3
Ratchet knew they had a problem just seconds after entering their make shift bridge's aperture. Power that should have been swirling smoothly around them was surging, creating arcs of hot plasma that flashed and sizzled to ground dangerously close as the gate closed behind them.
"DAMN it to the pit! I KNEW better then to trust something that slagger worked on. Fragging RUN!"
The larger bot might have been younger, and he had a longer stride, but medics were built with the ability to turn on some speed if needed. It came in handy when there were lives on the line. As a result, Ratchet was ahead of his Prime when he exited the unstable bridge into chaos. Smoke and flame proved that, as usual with Wheeljack, something had exploded. All that could be seen of said mech was his legs sticking out from underneath the sparking control console as he hollered muffled instructions to Prowl. Their tactical commander looked up when Ratchet skidded to a halt, relief plainly evident on his gray tinged face as his steady digits flew over the controls, fighting to keep the bridge operational a few seconds more. Seeing those blue optics widen as the usually composed bot screamed something down to the almost hidden engineer had Ratchet spinning in place, then lunging back towards the bridge in a panic as the aperture shrank, plasma arcing wildly around the one who had yet to exit. Someone tackled him before he could reach his friend. This bot was smaller than him but had the skill to put him down and keep him there even though the old mech used every dirty trick in his considerable arsenal to get away. The other hissed after a particularly nasty strike in a very sensitive area.
"OUCH…Slag it Doc… donna make me hurt ya… FRAG…STOP it… Jackie and Prowler's got it handled…"
Recognition of the only mech crazy enough to use that nickname had Ratchet freezing in place. He knew better than to push his luck…even at less than one hundred percent, the Special Ops Commander could and would back up that threat if he felt he needed to.
From his spot on the floor the medic was perfectly placed to witness Wheeljack's hasty exit out from under the console. The mech rose and roughly shouldered Prowl out of the way. Talented servos skimmed over the controls. When nothing he did seemed to help, the Engineer doubled up his fists then slammed them down hard on the malfunctioning equipment. The second time he did this, something fritzed and electricity danced a wicked tango up the mech's arms. The panels on either side of his head flared bright white as Wheeljack jerked up straight with a choked off scream but held his position as the bridge's aperture stabilized then widened. Prowl was already there, black servo reaching through to interlock with blue as the Praxian helped pull the larger bot through. Optimus staggered into sight, dropping to a knee just as the opening slammed shut behind him. With nowhere to go, the energy backlashed through what was left of the console causing it to disintegrate rather spectacularly in a shower of electricity, metal shrapnel and flame. Wheeljack yelped as a large servo clamped down on his arm and jerked him away from the small explosion to land in a smoking heap on the floor. The big black mech who was attached to that servo hissed and swore as his system received a painful jolt from the contact but did not hesitate as he used an extinguisher to smother the fire.
"Slag it Wheeljack…one of these days you are going to blow yerself to the pit and take half of us with you!"
The Engineer turned Wrecker slowly rolled over and coughed a cloud of smoke out of his vents. He lifted a paint blistered arm with one blackened crispy digit raised.
"Been there…done that! It's not as much fun as you might think, Ironhide!"
For a moment the only sounds heard were the hiss of fire extinguishers and the soft whir of more than one Autobot's internal cooling systems working overtime. The silence was broken when the mech who was literally sitting on Ratchet slowly rose. The medic's trained optics did not miss the small wince as Jazz offered a slightly shaky servo to help pull him up.
"My mech…next time ah try to escape Medbay, and there will be a next time…just remind me that ya fight dirty. Might jest convince me ta stay put a bit longer."
Ratchet snorted as he pulled himself up in such a way that the other bore very little of his considerable weight. For millennia it had seemed that the Special Ops Commandeer was indestructible. This had changed in Mission city. It would be a very long while before the image of Jazz's shattered body and empty spark chamber stopped haunting the medic's recharge. These thoughts made him sound harsher than he really meant to.
" As IF…speaking of which…what in the PIT are you doing out of Medbay?!"
The silver Mech stepped back and placed a servo dramatically over his spark.
"Doc Bot… ah am wounded!" His versatile voice took on a sad whine…" Would ya really keep a good mech berth bound when there's all this fun to be had!?"
Ratchet's optics narrowed dangerously but before he could open his mouth to give the little slagger a piece of his processor, Jazz put a long digit up to it.
"SHHHH…don answer that!"
The CMO's engine growled a deep warning as the offending digit wiggled back and forth, then traced a sharp tip over his lip plates in a suggestive manner. The other mech's visor hid his optics but Ratchet could see that the fragger was grinning. For a second, he entertained the thought of biting that digit clean off.
The Spy Master was excellent at reading other bot's body language. He snatched his servo away and shook it at his friend. His visor tilted towards where Prowl was helping Optimus regain his pedes.
"Ah jest figured that since ya let Prowler outta Medbay ta play…ya wouldna mind if ah tagged along."
The medic scanned the little aft and released a frustrated vent as the eldritch glyphs that now scrolled over every inch of the mech's internal struts flared in warning. He withdrew before they could sting him but saw enough to know he had not damaged the recently recovered mech with his underhanded fighting tactics. Swearing softly, he and Grimm were going to have a conversation about the interference with his medical scans, he shifted and initiated a deep scan on Optimus. Other than carrying a Semi truck load of Martian sand in his internals, their leader seemed no worse for wear. Recalibrating, the CMO included Prowl… that mech's systems were still fragged to the pit. It had not been Ratchet's choice to let the Praxian out of Medbay, Prime had wanted a level head in the Command Center on the off chance that things went badly; a good decision as it turned out. Ratchet was preoccupied with diagnosing what he saw and as a result, he spoke without thinking.
"PROWL wasn't de…."
Ratchet flinched as his processor caught up and he cut the rest off before it could escape his treacherous mouth. Too late… Jazz's visor went almost black, and the other mech became eerily still before leaning in to coldly whisper.
"He might as well have been..."
Ratchet froze. Jazz had NOT been happy when he awakened to find Prowl almost dead from Spark-Break. He went from unhappy to positively LIVID when he found out that his Bonded had suffered with that shattered Spark for over two Earth years before an alien WITCH and not his Prime had brought Jazz back online. There were more than a few bots who had breathed a silent prayer of thanks that the Tactician had not deactivated as he intended to on the day that Angelique Grimm stepped in to raise the dead. Ratchet was one of them. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that if Prowl had given up and gone to the Well of Sparks after fighting for so long, it would have been Meister who opened his optics that fated day… energon would have flowed.
For a frightening moment, the old mech was positive that was who was staring back at him from behind that cold black visor. The spell was broken when the other mech gave himself a slight shake, lifting his armor then sleeking it back down into place. The finger that had shushed the medic rose to tap him lightly over his Spark as Jazz's mask slowly brightened.
"Ya are a wise ole mech, Ratchet."
Then the saboteur spun away to saunter towards Prowl and Optimus.
"HEYA O.P… watcha got there?"
Ratchet out vented in quiet relief. Then he took a moment, while his two walking wounded's helms bent over the little machine still cradled in Optimus's servo, to turn and run a scan over Wheeljack as Ironhide helped the singed mech to his pedes. It showed that the engineer had gotten lucky this time…most of the damage was cosmetic. Still, the medic rumbled a low growl when he got a good look at what was left of his ground bridge console, the fragger had earned some time under his tender mercy.
"Slag it to the pit…Wheeljack…I NEEDED that!"
In typical wrecker fashion, the other mech just dug himself a little deeper.
"Hey What can I say…engineering 101, if you can't sweet talk something into working… smack the slag out of it until it gives up! Works every time."
Ironhide grinned as he let go of the engineer. His softly murmured words were for that mech alone as he gave him a little push towards the medic.
"Oh Wheeljack…. That was so unwise."
Ratchet's servo shot out, locking down on the other's singed shoulder plate as he tried to back pedal.
"Where do you think you are going?"
Before the hapless mech could answer, Ratchet turned, just in time to see Prowl step fastidiously aside to avoid the small cascade of sand created when his Prime shifted an arm to give Jazz a better view of the little Rover.
Wheeljack winced as the servo on his shoulder tightened. This was accompanied by a low rumble from the medic that had Ironhide very casually stepping away.
"Optimus, you can practice show and tell after you all get your afts down to Medbay."
Ratchet's optics narrowed dangerously as all three of the fraggers AND the idiot he was holding opened their intakes to argue with him. His engine revved with an unnerving whine as a wrench magically appeared in his other servo. He pointed it at each of the three and shook the unhappy mech caught in his strong grip.
"Eh eh eh…all…four…of…you…Medbay…. NOW!"
He gave Wheeljack a little push as the Command Center door slid open, only to find Bumblebee; Sam in one hand, Angelique in the other, standing in the way. The other bot shifted as if trying to decide whether to enter or run for it.
Ratchet hissed and bared his denta at the pale woman holding on to the Scout's digits, he was going to put a fragging LOCK on that pit slagged Medbay door that only HE could open! Her dark eyes met his optics without flinching, red lips curved in a small, sly smile.
"Technically…I am not walking."
The wrench filled servo twitched and the old mech was not proud that his track record with the human witch was so poor that Optimus hastily stepped forward, putting his large frame in between them. The Prime silently motioned for Bumblebee to get in line behind the small train of unhappy mechs. The medic sub-spaced his wrench and continued towards Medbay, at least the young one had had the sense to take the humans OUT of the command center when the gate had been in operation.
Since ALL his patients were currently in the line behind him, the medical area was empty except for Maintenance Drone M36. The little bot was busy polishing the surface of a surgical berth with the buffers on its undercarriage when they entered. Ratchet was not surprised when Sam waved at it from his high perch on Bumblebee's shoulder
"Hey there Roomba!"
The Scout carefully deposited the other human on one of the beds set up in a small alcove built specifically for any fleshy patients that might have to be dealt with. One time getting caught flat footed with a life-threatening human emergency had been enough for the old medic.
The drone's feathery sensory finials waved in a manner that reminded the medic of the antennae possessed by this world's many insect species, but it did not react to the boy's greeting. Ratchet fought the urge to roll his optics. Sam had been trying to make a pet of the drone ever since Wheeljack had found, and then retrieved it from the exterior of the Ark.
"Samuel… for the last time… the drone's designation is M36…not Roomba. It is a sparkless creation…not a mech. It was designed to go into places most mech's can't or WON'T in service to Metroplex…Hence the M in M36. It won't answer you as it does not have the programming to acknowledge a human as anything but an organic infestation that quite possibly needs to be cleansed out of the base's systems."
This was not entirely true due to modifications the medic had been making to the drone's processor and programming, but the boy did not need to know that. No one was sure how M36 had managed to hitch a ride on the Ark. The cityplex maintenance drones were supposed to be dependent on the massive mech's they were created to take care of. The bot was designed to offline if it left Metroplex's EM field. Ratchet had his suspicions. The thing's coding was more complex than it should have been.
The old mech was taken back by the crestfallen look that settled on the boy's face. Bumblebee spat a low hissing squeal from his damaged vocalizer and turned to carry his charge out of the Medbay.
Ratchet did not need his Prime's soft admonishment over a private com or Angelique's soft…" Way to go asshole!" to feel a small measure of guilt as Optimus carefully set the dead Mars Rover on the berth. He had forgotten that human, in particular, had the ability to get attached to non-sentient things. The medic ran a servo over his dusty face…Slag…he was never going to understand the fleshy little pains in the aft! Growling softly, he gave himself a little shake and watched a cascade of sand sift out to puddle on his clean floor.
"Slag it all!"
He gave Wheeljack a push towards a berth.
"YOU… just sit here and wait…I need to Decon before I can get you cleaned up."
He did not have to say anything to Jazz and Prowl. The gray tinge that overshadowed the tactician's usually pristine black and white proved that the mech had over done things. It was evident in the brittle way he moved. Ratchet was thankful when Jazz quietly coaxed the Praxian over to where two berths that had been put together in a more private corner of the bay. The reason for the double berth was made clear when the saboteur slid in to lay next to Prowl.
Seven days was not enough time to recover from the damage caused by over two years' worth of tortured existence. They had fully expected to find two deactivated mech's when Optimus and the others had finally broken the shields Angelique had layered around the Vault that fateful day. What they had found was Jazz unexpectantly online and quite literally wrapped around his failing Spark mate. When Ratchet had tried to separate the two…Prowls' spark had guttered and very nearly gone out. Prime had gathered the intertwined mechs up and ran for the Medbay where Ironhide and Ratchet had hastily pushed two berths together so both could be worked on at the same time. Jazz had provided life support for his mate until the SiC's spark had gained enough strength to support itself.
Ratchet did not say a word as he watched the silver bot curved himself around his partner…body and spark serving as a shield. There was no way that even this hardened old medic was going to try and separate them.
It only took a couple of breems in the decontamination shower to flush the dust and sand from both his and Optimus's surface joints and seams. The Prime out-vented in relief as the dryer dislodged a bit more and glanced hopefully at his friend.
"That's better, I think the rest will work its way out."
Ratchet snorted and snagged the bot before he could try and escape.
"Eh eh eh…not so fast Prime. I can hear you crunching over the sound of ME crunching. That slag will eat through conduits and circuitry if its left in there."
The medic pushed his leader towards the berth that M36 had been cleaning. The little bot was scuttling around the Mars Rover, long tongues busy flicking in and around the derelict as it cleaned off all the Martian dust. Optimus carefully shifted Opportunity out of his way as he sat down. M36 vibrated its armor plates, creating a disgruntled buzz. Bright yellow optics tracked its unfinished project as it was placed out of reach. Before it could move to follow, Ratchet pinged it then sent his authorization code to activate the medical protocols he had added to its programing. He hid his smile by turning to gather the materials he needed to debride the burnt dermal nanites off Wheeljack's servos. The engineer shivered, rattling his armor as the medic's smile took on an edge that would have made Megatron proud.
"Maintenance drone M36, initiate medical protocols. New directive…deep clean Cybertronian mech... designation… Optimus Prime. Objective…removal of all foreign debris from internal systems."
The Prime's helm snapped around. There was rustle from the human alcove as Angelique sat up to watch. Jazz rolled over and even Prowl's helm popped up from behind his silver form.
M36 clicked to itself, then its armor shifted, body compacting down to a smaller size. Black wheels pulled in so it could deploy eight long jointed legs in their place. The drone rose and turned to stalk towards the big bot. Prime slowly inched his way back from it as it advanced. Ratchet shifted his attention away from the injuries he was working on.
"Don't make me magnetize you to the bench you fragger. Hold still so it can do its job."
The big mech just starred at him with wide optics. Ratchet put down his tools, realizing that Prime had just turned into a huge flight risk.
"What's the problem? Metroplex had thousands of these guys scuttling around in his internals. He never complained. Performing a deep clean on you myself means that I would have to put you in stasis, remove your armor, then literally pull all your systems apart in order to get all the debris out. I have to do this quite often on every mech, especially the frontliners because of this dirt ball we now occupy. It takes a huge amount of time. Something I, as the only medic here, am short on. M36 can do the same job faster, without having to disassemble you and without you having to be in stasis. That's a win win for all of us!"
Wheeljack leaned forward to try and see around the medic and Ratchet casually pushed him back.
Both Jazz and Prowl were now sitting up to watch in morbid fascination.
The Prime's engine made a strange whining noise as M36 tapped at his pede with one of its front legs. Its mouth parts split into four sections and opened to reveal five long tongues coiled within a mechanism that spun with a soft whir.
Ratchet subtly shifted, ready to spring if he had to slap on the bed's magnetic restraint system. Jazz's helm was tilted in such a way that the medic knew the little aft had started a betting pool on when their leader would break and run. The old mech growled at his friend.
"I don't know why you are whining…I'm the only medic here until First Aid can leave the Ark . I haven't had my internals cleaned since we arrived. You can slagging bet that I am looking FORWARD to my turn with that little bug!"
One long appendage slid out of the drone's mouth to probe itself into a transformation seam on Optimus's leg. Plunging deep, it sprayed a light cleaning solvent internally, while a second tongue with a brush like end joined in. These were followed by a third that sounded suspiciously like a vacuum.
At Optimus's rather horrified look…Ratchet just snickered evilly.
"Hehehe…what? Did you think I was slagging kidding about you having a date with a Roomba?"
I hope to get the next and last chapter of this posted quickly! In it you will find out what becomes of our little rover Opportunity! Please leave some feedback if you are enjoying this tale and if you would like to find out just exactly what happened between Ratchet, Jazz, Prowl, and the Witch… Angelique Grimm., let me know! OH…and there is artwork for Roomba posted on my facebook page…. Wyndewalkers artisan gallery.