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::Means internal comms only heard by those transformers or on a general frequency they all can tap into too:: Name of sender always on end. Diego Garcia Island is the NEST base in the Indian Ocean with a main hangar for the Autobots and various buildings designed and built for their size including Ratchet's med bay, an all Autobot recreation room, wash racks and personal quarters away from the human soldiers also stationed on the island.
TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TRANSFORMERS
AUTOBOT WASH RACKS
Optimus watched his sparkmate toweling the water drops off her arm before shifting his optics resolutely to the ceramic tile wall of the wash racks. 'This is not the time to indulge ourselves. She has duties and I am still in recovery.' His memory core replayed their most recent private times together before he focused on the present. He turned, opening his lip plates when the towel smacked his faceplates, half-wrapping around his blue side antennas. "Hey!"
"I said, are you functional by yourself if Ironhide is with Chromia?" Elita repeated. Her freshly clean white and pink armored femme figure gleamed in the light.
A dozen answers filtered through his processor before he smiled at her. "Yes. Are you able to handle Ultra Magnus in charge?"
She crossed her arms across her metal plated chest before forming a smile on her lip plates. "I could consider him an upgrade to my current mech model."
"Very funny dearest. You are not getting rid of me that easily," he said, dropping their towels into the cleaning chute.
"I never said it would be easy, only possible," she teased back. "See you in our quarters mid day?"
"I will be there. Comm me if you want me."
"I always want you. It's if I need you that you should be worried about," was her parting shot. A familiar energy signature drifted into range as she left. He glanced down at his chassis, confirming no remaining cleanser suds remained and opened the door to the hallway. A very large square chassis blue, red and white mech waited there.
"Are you busy Prime?" Ultra Magnus greeted.
He raised an optic arch, keeping the smile from his faceplates. "I'm sorry, the number you reached is temporarily out of service. If an emergency, why waste time asking me when you are in charge?"
"I see your sense of humor is still functioning. How about helping me with all the reports?" the taller mech asked, falling in alongside to walk down the hallway and outside.
"Comes with the job of being boss bot," Optimus pushed the door open, scanning the area and sky above for potential signs of an attack, Decepticon or human.
"Since when did Prime mean "Paperwork Ready In time Minus Errors?"
"Since we landed on earth and joined NEST," he replied. Internally, his delight at another bot dealing with the paperwork requirements was hard to contain. "Ask Prowl for help, he is second in command."
"I did. He slid the datapad and reports back to me quoting rules about doing assigned duties, not cheating and passing work off unfairly on other bots. How do you stand him?"
"On his feet pads. His wing doors prevent him lying down on the job," he teased. Groaning, the other mech glared at him as he became serious. "Fate rarely calls on us at the moment of our choosing Magnus. You are a soldier and commander. Being a leader until I am cleared for duty is practice for a time you may have to face without me there. Can you handle this?"
Unconsciously, Ultra Magnus straightened during the last sentences, the years of his experience strengthening him. "Until you are cleared old friend. I am holding you to that."
"Holding me is Elita's job," he reminded merrily.
"You have been among the humans too long to acquire their humor. Enjoy your rest, I will keep things safe until your return," he promised, striding away. Another familiar energy signature entered his scanner range and he grinned, stepping back inside the main entryway and waited.
Red Alert tapped on the edge of the rolling door, announcing himself. "My energy signature identified me before I even entered weapons range, especially to his advanced systems. However, it is his orders to make our transition easier and adapt the human habit of knocking before entering. When do they transition to help us? Stop signs, speed bumps and slow down for construction zones,' he processed while waiting.
"Good morning Red Alert, please come in," the ancient mech greeted him warmly, gesturing for him to enter the building.
"Prime, I need your assistance," he began.
"It's Optimus," his firm tone startled the younger bot.
"Sir?"
"Not sir, just Optimus. My name is Optimus. Try it with all three syllables. Opt…i…mus. Though the middle part "i" actually sounds like 'a" in the human tongue," he instructed.
"I know your personal designation sir and I need," he began again.
"Then use it. It's not that hard to remember."
"But sir I need…"
"My name is Optimus. My title is Prime, Commander and indirectly 'sir.' I am relieved of duty so call me Optimus. You are still the main security officer under Prowl and can be called sir by the lower ranks. Now what did you need?" He asked with a gleam to his normally deep blue optics.
"I needed assistance but if you are relieved of duty then that means," he gestured towards the main hangar.
"Ultra Magnus has command responsibility. All procedural requests are his department."
"Hmm, true. Then I am to escort you to med bay. Ratchet assigned me spark sitting duty though I hardly believe it is necessary, sir...uh, Opt…Optimus," he stumbled across the wording, fighting with his own internal logic circuitry.
"No."
"No? You do believe watching is necessary? Your appointment is scheduled for later. I thought," his blue optics widened.
"No as in I'm not going anywhere but to the lagoon beach. You are welcome to follow if not then leave," he stated firmly before walking away.
"Why?" He struggled to keep up with the longer strides. Optimus shrugged his square blue shoulder plates human style. It was hard to keep the grin off his faceplates at the smaller mechs confused vocal tone.
"As your spark sitter, I can order you, I guess?" he tried, his tone lacking conviction. His chassis bobbed up and down with the extended steps as he tried to stay alongside on the narrow path.
"Yes you can. You can also throw me into the brig for disobeying that order. If you can get me there," he formed a smile with his lip plates. He stopped at the path's end and shifted into a fighting stance with his arms at his sides. His feet pads rotated out and flattened to sink further into the sand. His center mass dropped fractionally lower to ground his center of gravity as he braced. 'I should have done this in Mission City against Megatron. Not even he can move me when I lock down.' The smile disappeared as the two pieces of his battle mask slid together, locking with a discernible click sound.
"You leave me no choice. I order you to come with me or I will have to use force. I have been trained by Ironhide and Prowl in grappling and submission holds," the smaller red and white mech stated before marching purposefully up to the bigger mech. He surged ahead the last step, armor slamming into armor as his arms wrapped around the other's chest plates. His hands scrabbled for a grip against the military grade armor as his feet pads floundered in the soft sand. He lacked the arms length to reach all the way around to complete the intended bear hug. Optimus watched with amusement until he tried shifting his feet pads back and grabbed lower.
"Ahem! Not even my spark mate has her hands all over me like that," he grumbled behind his battle mask, raising an optic arch.
Red Alert felt his faceplates heat with embarrassment as he stumbled backwards, automatically tucking both hands behind his back plates. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to that is I did but not in that way! No, I would never that is oh slag."
"Command officers should not swear. Sets a bad example," the ancient Prime reminded while not moving.
::Help!:: Red Alert sent frantically to Ratchet.
::What did you do now?:: Ratchet
::I can't do anything, which is the problem sir. Prime is refusing to obey my orders:: Red Alert
Inside med bay, the green and yellow armored mech looked westward, the direction of the comm signal. ::Order him as a spark sitter:: Ratchet
::I did! He refused:: Red Alert
::Use your processor and find a way. Moreover, do not comm me again until you are both outside the med bay double doors or one of you needs me as CMO:: Ratchet sent, closing the comm line with a burst of static.
On the beach, Red alert's blue optics narrowed as he crouched, running probable placements for a flip hold. Optimus' deep blue optics narrowed, recognizing the prelude to an attempted grab and vented out. He watched, feeling disbelief as the security officer rapidly covered the short distance to him.
CLANG!
::Medical emergency on the beach, lagoon side. Red Alert is down:: Optimus
::For the love of Primus! What happened? You glitch out his logic center?:: Ratchet
::He tried to tackle me and knocked himself out. My chest armor ridge left a sizeable dent in his helm:: Optimus mental tone was soft and decidedly sheepish.
::Bring him to med bay and try not to jostle him around and add further injury:: Ratchet sent, automatically pulling up his medical records.
Five minutes later, Optimus stepped through the double doors of med bay, the red and white mech in his arms. "Lay him on the first medical berth then get out of the way," Ratchet instructed, fingers already trans morphed into tools. Removing the dented helm plate, he discarded it onto the nearby rolling cart. Muttering, the medic opened a chest panel, confirming spark power and energy relays.
"Not a complete knockout into stasis, more a temporary surge fail. How is your chest armor? Scratched or dented from thick chipped here?" When he turned around to look, Optimus was gone.
OPTIMUS AND ELITA'S ROOMS
AUTOBOT PRIVATE QUARTERS
"House call?" Elita repeated, stepping aside to allow Ratchet into their private quarter's main room. "I just got in. Locked in meetings all morning."
"It is a human tradition largely forgotten. I have found sparklings do better in their own quarters. Less terrified of med bay and its sterile settings and association of pain," he explained.
"Maybes it the big bad medic that hides there," Optimus said, appearing in the doorway of their private recharge area.
"Keep it up and I'll remove something you hide," he threatened.
"Mechs, play nice. I have work to do," Elita reminded, sitting down before the desk and the waiting datapads.
"He started it!" they both said at the same time and pointing at each other. Optimus sat on the recharge berth, his battle mask retracted and a neutral expression on his face.
The yellow green medic scowled, knowing the pose meant nothing. "Red Alert will recover. The impact did not temporarily offline him. It jarred a loose circuit that triggered a synapse that triggered his recharge timer without the proper coding."
"I am relieved he is okay. I would not want my spark sitter to come to harm," he said.
"Wait, if he was your spark sitter, and is in med bay and you are here, where is your tracker signal?" he realized.
"Right here and I assume it is returnable under warranty?" Optimus smiled, reaching in a leg hatch and removing the remains of the tracking tingle part. Melted metal slagged its side as deep claw marks marred the rest of it.
"What happened to it? It was welded under your chest plates," he blinked, his multi faceted optics spinning in the beginning of a medical scan. "Open your chest plates."
"No. I haven't had my energon lollypop for being a good mech," he said.
"Open those chest plates or I will set your optic shutters to seal shut every time Elita appears in your visual range," he threatened.
"You are cruel."
"All field medics are. The only way we keep sane when faced with offlining and broken shells. Or pick who gets treatment when there is not enough help available," he said.
Optimus vented, releasing the locks allowing his chest plates to rotate up and to the sides.
"What the slag! Who did that? A human and two forks would not cause those mars. One of your spark spire tips is slagged. Are you in pain? Any system failures? You didn't disconnect the pain sensors again?" he shifted to medic in an astro second, metal fingers trans morphing into repair tools.
"A friend did it, minor pain, no system failures and sensors are online," he reassured as Elita entered the room to stand behind him, a worried look on her faceplates.
"Hmm, melted and ripped meaning a bot with claws," he reasoned, applying metal sealing gel.
"OWWW!"
"Testing the sensors before coating the tips."
"I told you they were online," Optimus winced.
"And I told you not to play with medical overrides," Ratchet reminded. "I will leave the tracker out if you return to med bay to replace that melted spire."
"No."
"Now Prime," the medic began.
"No," he said again, crossing his arms over his open chest. The plates began sliding back into position under his armored arms.
"Don't be stubborn and you need to close those chest plates after I finish repairs. Not before," his vocal tone depended.
"NO! I don't want to!" His blue optics held a gleam of amusement.
"Is it medically necessary to complete the repairs this instant?" Elita asked.
"Why do you ask questions to which you already know the answer?" he asked.
"Why do you try arguing with a Prime who refuses to budge?" she challenged the medic back.
"Ratchet, I will agree on one condition," Optimus surprised them both.
"Which is?"
"You repair Elita's blown power couplers first. She has suffered enough because of me," he admitted, bowing his helm. A pinging of the door sensor had them looking towards the main door. No energy signatures displayed, indicating the visitor was human or cloaked. Elita remotely triggered the door, her hand moving towards her weapon in subspace even as the mechs did the same
Major Lennox stood there. "Am I interrupting?" He called. Looking up and around.
"Not at all, minor repairs," Optimus rumbled in his regal baritone as his battle mask retracted.
"I need Ratchet. Sarah is sick from the flight inbound. I am worried it is something more than that. She says she is okay but she's been queasy for a few days now. Before coming here," he said, hesitant to go beyond the main room.
"I will verify her condition and I will get back to you later Prime," the medic stated, his tone threatening.
To be continued...