Thank you for the review, LionLover190! ^_^
Part Four
It took a lot of willpower to not look at Mute Spark's specialized hologram emitter. Making water look like paint! It was actually rather ingenious, although he couldn't see much purpose besides prank applications. Could it make water look like a solid surface? Or maybe, after making a large puddle of water, they could make it look like toxic material, or make it look like something entirely different. Would it have any practical use? That, Livewire figured, was a question to ask the femme.
Finally, they arrived at their destination, and Livewire ushered Wheeljack inside. The chief engineer of the Ark looked around, giving the appearance of a frown. "This isn't a lab."
"No," Livewire confirmed, "it's the Med Bay. I figured we should get your hands fixed up before looking through my goodies. Hey, Spark! You in here?"
Off to the side, the safe room door swished open, and a white head peeked out. =Yes,= came the answer.
Livewire smiled. "Come on out, it's just us. Spark, this is Wheeljack. Wheeljack, this is Mute Spark. You met outside, but only briefly."
Wheeljack nodded. "Pleased to meet you."
The femme offered him a smile as she came out of her sanctuary, then she focused in on the inventor's hands. Regarding them carefully, she then turned away and breezed through the Bay, grabbing several tools before coming back to the engineers. She gestured to a berth, and Wheeljack obediently sat down.
Mute Spark worked quickly, replacing a few damaged wires, welding the holes shut, and soon Wheeljack's hands were looking like new, complete with a fresh coat of quick-drying paint and sealant. As she put everything away, the inventor studied his repaired appendages and his vocal indicators flashed happily. "Thank you very much, Mute Spark. I owe you for this. Say, would you like to join Livewire and I in looking at his lab?"
The femme perked up and nodded vigorously as she put the last tool away. Livewire held out her invention, and she snatched it up quickly. Holding it up for inspection, she beamed at them. =And would you like to know how this works?=
Needless to say, the two engineers were like kids in a toy store. Together, they chorused, "Would we!"
...
Recount led Optimus into his office aboard the Celestial and sighed. "You want to know about Mute Spark."
"If you don't mind, or if you don't think she would mind. She is . . ."
"Strange?" Recount supplied with a knowing smile. "Yes. She is."
"Why did you call her a 'wannabe-youngling'?"
Recount considered his next words, then sighed again as he gave up. This was Prime; he should know about her. She was an Autobot, after all, and under his command. No, not "should." The word was "need." Prime needed to know about Mute Spark.
"It all started a little over three hundred thirty orns ago. At least, the part where we're involved."
"Eleven years? She hasn't been with you long."
Recount shrugged. "Long enough. It's slow going for her, though."
"What do you mean?"
The captain frowned. "Have you ever heard of Gamma Base outpost?"
"Yes. A research outpost consisting of neutral scientists. Are you . . .?"
"That's exactly what I'm implying." Recount sat heavily in the chair behind his desk and accessed the ship's computer, looking for pictures of the young femme. "We detected Decepticon transmissions from the outpost and went to investigate. There were five of the slaggers there, and my Special Ops unit took care of them and conducted the initial search for salvageable supplies. It was Shadowblade who found her in the remains of the laboratory on the moon, and he brought her back here." An image was displayed on the screen, and Recount turned it so that Optimus could see. It was of a black youngling with yellow optics, beaming up at two very familiar Autobots.
"He and Flareup took her in as their surrogate daughter. It's not an official adoption, yet, just in the off chance that her actual creators are still alive. It is very doubtful, though. I can't imagine anyone would abandon their youngling."
"Can't she tell you?"
Recount shook his head in sadness. "No. She has nightmares of the attack, sometimes, but other than that, her first memory is of waking up alone in the ruins of the lab. She had to hide from Decepticons and steal smidgens of energon to stay alive, and became quite good at sneaking around. She was dangerously low on energy when Shadowblade found her."
"And her speaking habits?"
"Or lack thereof?" Recount asked wryly. "She only ever talks on the comm. We figure it was hammered quite nicely into her CPU that she couldn't make a sound, or she would die. We've been trying to help her get out of that mindset, but like I said, it's slow going for her. It helped her tremendously to be transferred into her third frame, but oftentimes, she's a youngling with an adult's spark and body. She lost one million, two hundred years worth of memory in the attack. It's such a joy to be able to see her enjoy life, but my spark aches sometimes when I see what an effect that time alone on the moon had on her, hiding from the Cons. She hates being alone, and she hates crowds. And on the opposite side of the spectrum, she can become so focused. It's . . . frightening, at times. Present her with an injury, and she'll forget everything that makes her uncomfortable save for making noise. Same goes for when training. I don't know if she realizes that it happens."
Optimus was silent for a long moment. Then he asked, "Is there anything we can do to help?"
...
"Hmm." Flareup considered the question, her arm placed in Shadowblade's as they followed Jazz through the Ark. "Don't treat her as if she's going to fall apart. Be honest with her. Don't let her be alone or in crowds for too long, get her out of there if she starts to panic. Call us when she does, or Blitz, Recount, Swiftcast, or Livewire. Backdraft, Punisher, Swift, Overcast, and Stopper are all right, too. She knows us the best. Listen to what she has to say, and don't underestimate her. And most of all, don't let her leave the base alone. She is vulnerable, and she only has light armor right now. We were going to look into giving her an upgrade here on Earth, but even so. She's not a warrior, and never will be. Saboteur, maybe, but we'd appreciate it if she was kept out of danger."
Jazz smiled bitterly. "I'll do my best, but there may come a time when she is needed. We'll evaluate her skills, and I don't think you'll have to worry about her being placed on the warrior or security squads, seeing as she isn't suited for the positions. Don't you worry, Lady Doc, we'll keep her away from the front lines. Here's the Med Bay. Ya might wanna tell Ratchet that Jack's getting' fixed up, so he doesn't have to worry. Come on, Shadowblade, let's show ya around so you two can get back to your girl."
Shadowblade nodded, then gave his bonded a light peck on the lips. "I'll see you later."
"Mmhmm. Make sure Backdraft doesn't get too fresh with his superiors."
The tall mech grinned. "Aw, don't worry. I'll keep him in line. Good luck with Ratchet."
"Yeah, yeah . . . Now beat it!"
Shadowblade grinned and waved as he started off down the corridor again with Jazz. "Medics," he sighed. "Gotta love 'em."
...
Mute Spark sat perched on the front edge of Livewire's large chair in his lab, swinging her legs back and forth. The two engineers were moving systematically through the lab, pausing a bit longer on some things, and were jabbering quickly in the language of scientists. She understood it well, being a bit of a scientist herself, and recognized the object, so she knew when Wheeljack was approaching something a little more volatile than the others.
Her turquoise optics narrowed to thin slits and she flared her crown just the slightest bit. =Do not touch that, please. I will not repair your hands again.=
Wheeljack had the grace to look embarrassed, and his vocal indicators flashed pink. "Sorry. I am a walking hazard, aren't I?"
She smiled at that, slightly amused, and folded her fan blades back into their original position before the engineer could take notice. =I suppose so. I will not be going anywhere near you when you're holding something, you know. I take my own risks.=
Livewire laughed. "Yeah, like making Charger think you had dumped paint on him."
She shrugged. =He had it coming. He made fun of me, you know.=
The engineer could only offer a smirk. "You two never did get along very well. Ah, Recount, Optimus Prime. Welcome to my lab." Livewire gave a flourishing bow, a grin fixed on his lips. "To what do I owe the honor?"
Recount jerked a thumb at the Prime. "I'm giving him a tour. Ah, Mute Spark. How are Wheeljack's hands, now?"
Mute Spark beamed at him, giving the captain a thumbs-up. =As long as he doesn't blow something up in here, he should be good.=
The blue and green mech grinned. "You sure you should be sitting so close to him?"
=No. But we told him not to touch anything.=
"With Jack," a familiar voice came from the corridor, "he doesn't even really have to touch it."
Wheeljack rolled his optics. "Hello, Jazz. Ah, Shadowblade and Flareup I presume? Er . . . Hi, Ratchet."
The CMO stormed wordlessly over to the inventor and grasped a forearm with one red hand. Studying the repairs carefully, he moved on to the other hand and gave a satisfied grunt. "Good work, kid," he told Mute Spark, stepping away from the poor, abused scientist. Wheeljack wondered if every medic in the universe lived by the unwritten code to poke and prod injuries to assess the damage. Thankfully, his hands were fine this time around.
Mute Spark smiled up at her guardians as they came over to flank her, unconsciously protective. Shadowblade stood a little further forward, just in case something did happen to explode. =Thank you, sir. Flareup has taught me a lot.=
Ratchet grunted. "She's your femme guardian?"
=Yes, sir.=
"Hmph. And when are you going to be starting?"
Mute Spark blinked. She actually hadn't thought about that, so she looked to Flareup.
Flareup frowned in thought. "I was actually hoping that she would be allowed to wait a little bit, to adjust to the place. Is this permissible, sirs?"
Ratchet nodded. "Fine with me. Prime?"
Optimus considered the young femme in question. "If the idea is agreeable with Mute Spark."
Mute Spark nodded vigorously. Right now, all she wanted to do was explore this new world. She hadn't been able to look at it yet, and it was so alive! Her sensors picked up on billions of tiny life forms in the ground, and that was just what these humans called "insects"! Who knew what else she would find just in the immediate area around the base?
Shadowblade chuckled. "I know that look. It's the scientist one. Come on, Flareup, let's show Spark that tree so she can really look at it."
Excited, Mute Spark jumped off the chair and landed nimbly on the deck. She ran past Optimus and Recount, hand tossed up in a wave. =Bye, Livewire and Wheeljack!=
Her mech guardian yelped, startled by her sudden departure. Mute Spark's laughter echoed on the comm as he ran after her, shouting.
"Hey, no cheating!"
Vorn = 83 years
Orn = 13 days
Joor = 6.5 hours
Breem = 8.3 minutes
Images of Mute Spark are on my deviantART account.
