Disclaimer: I own nothing of Transformers! Only the story and OC's! ;)
.:Chapter 11:.
Well… this isn't good.
Thundercracker narrowed his optics as he tried to re-establish connection. Again, the attempt failed. He stepped back from the panel he'd been looming over, now thoroughly aggravated.
His Microcons had been discovered.
He should have known better than to send them. But Megatron was never one to try and reason with. He had been at Thundercracker's struts incessantly, his optics seeming to bore into the flyer's very spark. If he had continued muddling through his own processes trying to find a more correct way instead of a fast way, then his own wings might have been on the line.
He stood from the panel he was at and shook his body out, feeling his joints creaking in protest and his hydraulics squealing. He had been restricted from flying. It had been several days already. Neither he, nor Skywarp had been granted reprieve. They had been tasked with their own duties the same as Starscream. He, unfortunately, had been tasked with surveillance of the Autobot base.
Thundercracker shook his head and threw his servos up, his usually cool attitude nowhere to be found as he turned to leave the room. Admittedly, by his own opinion, he was the best 'bot for the job. He was good at predicting their systems and he had managed to infiltrate their defenses before, albeit in field operations. But, with Soundwave gone, he was the now the fall back.
Thundercracker walked angrily, his steps heavy. He wanted all the slag in the area to clear a path. His servos were twitchy; his weapons systems hot. If even one of their ungrateful throng crossed his sights he knew he was sure to offline them by impulse alone. Luckily, there weren't many around. He cycled a breath, trying to cool his systems in the heat of their layer.
He would have to tell Megatron.
He shook his head again, clenching his fists angrily. He's going to blame me for this slag, but he's the one with no patience! If he had simply waited! Thundercracker growled, his vocal processors vibrating almost painfully. He had no idea how Starscream had managed to keep all his fuses intact after all these vorns of dealing with Megatron. At least he and Skywarp were never expected to answer to him personally. They reported to Starscream, more or less, and he relayed their information to Megatron. Thundercracker had often thought this unfair, but he had never been eager to argue the matter either.
Thundercracker stopped short. He blinked his optics as he realized it had been more than twenty-four hours since Starscream had commed them. He tilted his head and opened their channel.
.:Starscream, come in.:. He narrowed his optics as he got absolutely no response. .:Starscream, are you there?:.
Nothing.
Thundercracker closed the channel and continued walking. Is he really so absorbed with this concept that Megatron presented that he won't answer? he questioned to himself.
As he turned a corner he knew that could not be the case. Starscream had been dutiful in his pursuits for Megatron, boring tirelessly over the old files that he had been given. However, he always made a point to check in with them. It was something the three of them did, as an unspoken rule. Even if none of the three of them had anything to report, which he and Skyweaver certainly didn't considering they were currently grounded, they would always comm each other regardless.
Thundercracker opened a channel to Skywarp. .:Skywarp, come in.:.
.:Skywarp, here. What is it, Thunder?:.
.:Have you heard from Starscream?:.
.:No. Why?:.
Thundercracker could hear the annoyance in Skywarp's inflection. .:Do not use that tone with me. It's been twenty-six hours and thirty-seven minutes since he's sounded off. You know that's hardly like him.:. He narrowed his optics at the sudden silence.
.:Mmmm… you're right. However, I do happen to know that it was around twenty-one forty-six hours ago that Megatron went to… check up on him. I'm sure you haven't forgotten how that tends to go.:.
Thundercracker cycled heavily through his intakes. .:So… time was up, then.:. he commed in aggravation.
.:I would expect.:. came Skywarp's reply.
Thundercracker clenched his fists, his digits creaking painfully. He stopped in his walking and shuttered his optics, cycling several times to try to cool himself further.
.:Don't worry, Thunder… I'm sure Screamer's fine… he usually is.:. came Skywarp's half aft-ed attempt at calming the fury of his wing-brother's spark.
Thundercracker remained motionless. He knew that Skywarp was simply vocalizing for the sake of it. They couldn't do much more than that. They had tried once before to come to Starscream's defense; long after he had already been under Megatron's pede, becoming accustomed to the treatment his wing-brothers found appalling. That had been a disastrous event. He remembered that day clearly, countless vorns ago. It was only Starscream's uncharacteristic groveling and begging, practically offering up his own spark, that stayed Megatron from offlining both of them. That was another reason why their reports were filtered through Starscream; sometimes, if they so much as looked at Megatron wrong they would end up in recovery for nearly a quartex.
Thundercracker blinked, tilting his head as he tried to recall the last time Megatron had accosted either him or Skywarp. His processor was strangely quiet. In fact, over the course of these last few days, Megatron had almost been civil. If he followed that pathway further, he could note that Megatron had been somewhat less of a raging megalomaniac ever since… He tilted his head the other way. Ever since his death and resurrection, he thought in the recesses of his processor. He then scoffed. I suppose that means nothing if he has returned to his habit of "checking up" on our Screamer, he seethed, his anger rushing back to replace the curiosity that had sprung out of thin air.
.:You still there, Thunder?:.
He cycled deeply through his intakes and heaved out a sigh as if a great weight had settled on him. .:I am. I suppose we just wait for Starscream to contact us when he's recovered…:. he said, not entirely sure if he was asking a question or affirming their action.
.:… yeah. That's what we're gonna have to do.:. Skywarp answered.
Thundercracker shook his head as he started walking again. He closed the comm, having nothing left to say.
XoXoX
"Okay, so what do you want me to do again?" Leanne asked, looking to Ratchet skeptically.
It had only been two hours ago that they had discovered something miraculous: Leanne had a frequency.
At everyone's confusion, Ratchet had finally taken the time to explain. The static that Leanne had been mentioning was an obvious indicator of an electrical disturbance of some kind. And at Leanne's question of the missing sensors, Ratchet had remembered that the circuitry in the sensors that had been attached to her had been melted together, suffering extreme heat. What could cause that extreme a heat without effectively burning the rest of the material around them? Electricity. What were the sensors attached to? Leanne. What could make a noise of static when presented with unstable electrical interference? The monitoring equipment that Leanne was attached to.
So, Ratchet had pulled out a frequency clarifier. It was a devise used to "clarify" a Cybertronian's frequency. That one in particular had been made by Ratchet specifically to use on Sparklings. Sometimes, it was hard to use the regular equipment on a Sparkling as their hardware was too small or they were too rowdy. So, Ratchet had designed a small machine, whereby they could just hold onto the handles and he could use it to detect and filter the sound of their frequency.
Why had he tested her for a frequency? Because if she had a frequency, that would mean she would have an electrical current running through her that was stronger than the average electrical impulses within the human nervous system. If that was to be proven as fact, then it was conceivable that the electrical charge that had knocked out Ratchet's equipment had come from Leanne herself. And if the electrical charge had come from Leanne, then presumably, she was also responsible for the EM burst that had affected the med bay.
Everyone had been stunned into silence.
Except Leanne. She had insisted that she couldn't be the only human with a frequency. She was assured by Ratchet, and the other three humans in the room, that in fact she was. Only after Lennox and Sam had placed their own hands on the machine, with absolute silence emitting from it as a result, did Leanne stop with that train of thought. But that had opened up a whole new set of questions, namely, why and how?
Ratchet had launched into a working theory, surmising that the small electrical charges he had surged through her the day before to try to assist in her demagnetization were the culprits. Perhaps the charges had jumpstarted her body into generating more electricity on it's own. After throwing that theory out into the open Ratchet had then realized it was time for another full on scan.
Leanne had complied, hardly caring about the others in the room, same as the first time. The results had been exactly what Ratchet had theorized. Her body at that current moment in time was producing upwards of fifteen percent more electricity than it should be producing. It was enough that, according to Ratchet, she should be experiencing some sort of negative side effects. However, much to his and everyone else's confusion, she had merely been suffering a minor upset stomach, which appeared to be unrelated.
It was at that time that Ratchet had started talking to himself in Cybertronian and the Autobots in the room had started chiming in, also in Cybertronian, making it hard for Leanne and the other humans to participate.
After having gone to get properly dressed and drink an entire bottle of water in practically one gulp, Leanne had come back into the main portion of the med bay to see Ratchet talking very excitedly. Upon seeing her, he'd promptly switched to English and insisted she ready herself for a busy day.
Now, she stood at the wall of one of the lab hangers, several pieces of equipment she couldn't even begin to name surrounding her. "Ratchet? Did you hear me?" she called, looking back to him.
"What was that?" he asked from behind a machine he seemed to be calibrating.
"What do you want me to do exactly?" she asked, having stood in place for what felt like an hour.
"Nothing yet, I need to finish setting up, it should only be about five more minutes," Ratchet called, not even looking up from what he was doing.
Leanne looked down and laced her thumbs through the belt loops in her pants. She took a deep breath, trying to keep herself calm. She couldn't really say she was nervous, but she wasn't feeling all that comfortable either. How could I possibly… have done what he thinks? She shook her head. I suppose that's the nature of my situation, huh? She crossed her arms and leaned her head back, looking to the ceiling.
"Are you alright?"
Leanne jumped lightly as her head shot to her right to Optimus Prime himself. He'd knelt down just within the circle of machines that were surrounding her. She briefly wondered how she hadn't noticed. Have I already gotten so used to them moving around? she thought to herself. She smiled lightly, though she could feel that it was strained. "I'm fine. It's just a bit to take in," she said.
Optimus regarded her with a calm expression. "I understand. This is not quite easy for any of us to take in."
For whatever reason, his voice was soothing, and she could already feel her anxiousness starting to subside. Leanne chuckled lightly, looking back to the ground. "I'm sure you guys are all pretty confused, huh?" she said, looking back up. She gestured to Skyweaver, Ratchet, and Ironhide, making it obvious that she was referring to Transformers. "This doesn't quite fit into the realm of normal human… well, human," she finished with a laugh, words failing her.
Optimus chuckled lightly, the sound reverberating through the floor. "You would be right about that. This is new territory for everyone."
Leanne took a significantly calmer deep breath, looking up into the Autobot leader's optics. She opened her mouth to say something, but found words failing her yet again. She shook her head, lightly, about to apologize for being awkward, when she saw it. It was fleeting… but it was the same expression that had crossed his faceplates the day before, when he'd removed her glasses. She unintentionally tilted her head and stared. Optimus blinked his optics, seeming to realize what had just occurred. Just when he opened his own mouth to speak, Ratchet broke the moment.
"Alright! We're ready to begin," he called loudly.
Leanne whipped her head to look at Ratchet, his volume surprising her. She shook her head and turned back just in time to see Optimus standing.
"Right, let's see if we can get some answers," he said, glancing back down to Leanne fleetingly before stepping out of the circle of machines.
Leanne looked back to the floor. What the hell? she thought. That was the second time in about twenty-four hours. What… what is going on with him? she asked mentally.
Ironhide watched Optimus as he made his way over, his optics glued to his superior as he stood in line and crossed his servos. He raised an optic ridge. Optimus' EM field was completely withdrawn. On a normal day it might be somewhat reined in, but this was akin to hiding behind a closed door. Something was bugging him and he didn't want any other 'bot to know. Ironhide shifted his weight, resting his hands on his hip-joints as his optics travelled back to Leanne. .:So… what was that about?:. he commed privately.
.:What do you mean?:. Optimus answered, his voice expressionless through the channel.
.:Our guest got you troubled?:. Ironhide, responded.
.:I don't know what you're talking about.:.
Ironhide suppressed the urge to smirk. .:Is that so?:.
He heard hydraulics as Optimus adjusted his servos and rolled his shoulders. .:Leave it.:.
The response was short and sharp. Ironhide shifted his weight again. .:Understood. … for the moment. We're talking when this is over, though.:. he commed.
.:That won't be necessary.:.
.:I thought you said to leave it?:. Ironhide didn't miss the sound of Optimus tightening his digits over his armor. He was getting angry. You're hiding something Prime. And I'm tired of you closing yourself off, Ironhide thought, finally closing the comm and crossing his own servos, mimicking Optimus' posture. I'll beat it out of you, if I have to.
Ratchet moved out from behind the machine he had been at and walked to Leanne, kneeling down close to her. "Alright. You asked what I need you to do. The answer is, I don't know." He smiled at her confused expression. "I don't know what you did last night, so I can't tell you to repeat that action. However, what I think will head us in the right direction is if you try to replicate how you felt. Meaning, try to remember the sensations you were feeling and what was going through your mind when the Microcons were right at you."
Leanne looked to Ratchet skeptically as she put her hands on her hips. "Ratchet, I was half asleep?"
"I realize that," he said in amusement. "That being said, all you can do is try your best." He stood and started back to the machine he'd been at.
Leanne sighed and rubbed her fingers over her forehead before running them through her bangs. "So, what, should I try to imagine that I'm back there and it's still happening?" she asked, looking to one of the machines to her right that started making a funny noise.
"Whatever you think you need to do," Ratchet answered.
"Just pretend he's in front of you trying to kill you," Sam suddenly called from the top of the platform that he, Will, and Michaela were watching from, just behind Optimus and Ironhide.
"Oh that's helpful," Leanne retorted loudly.
Sam laughed. "What? I'd say that'd be pretty motivating." He then flinched as Michaela whacked him in the arm. "What?"
Leanne shook her head as she rolled her eyes. She put her hands to her hips again, suddenly quite aware of the fact that everyone was watching her. She glanced to and fro, catching Sam's gaze, Ratchet's optics, Lennox's curious expression, Optimus… She blinked and looked away quickly. Optimus had what appeared to be either a really focused expression or a possibly angry expression on his faceplates. She looked way off to the right, as if something on the wall had suddenly caught her interest.
"Can you think of anything that might help?" Skyweaver suddenly called out, leaning on the machine he had been standing at.
Leanne took a deep breath and shrugged, making a point to keep her eyes at Skyweaver. "I… I have no idea." She shook her head and removed her hands from her hips to cross her arms. "I'm not really sure what, um… what would assist… right now." She looked down, leaning her weight on her left leg as she tapped her right foot. "Um… hmm." She bit her lip and started thinking about last night.
It had been dark, of course. There hadn't been any noise, except for the static. She'd felt comfortable… except for the feeling of being watched. Leanne looked up. It was ridiculously bright in this hanger. There were windows at either end and along the sides, and both the hanger doors were open. The machinery was making all kinds of whirring and electrical noises. She was hardly comfortable. The watched thing was pretty well accomplished though.
Leanne took a deep breath. "Um… okay, um…" she looked around, looking to the wall behind her. "Okay, I'm going to sit down actually, and get comfortable against the wall. Can someone close the hanger doors?" She asked.
Ironhide looked to his left. "I got this one. Want to get the west door, Prime?" He heard Optimus start walking but heard not a single sound or word of affirmation. He shook his head slightly, noting that Optimus' EM field was still pulled in tight. Yep, you're pissed, he mused.
Leanne sat down and scooted herself to the wall, leaning against it as she crossed her legs.
Ratchet made a slight adjustment to the sensor rage of the equipment he was sitting at. "Are you trying to replicate the environment?" he asked.
Leanne leaned forward and rested her head in her hands. "Yeah, kinda. It was dark, and the sound of static, and I was comfy. That's about all I got," she said. She readjusted her elbows on her legs, taking a deep breath as she heard the hanger doors closing. "All I can do is try, right?"
Ratchet chuckled. "Right."
Leanne closed her eyes, the sounds within the hanger bouncing out in the darkness. She listened to the sounds of Ironhide and Optimus walking back to their spots, noting that she could actually tell the difference between the sounds of their hydraulics. Hmm… that's funny, she thought to herself. She breathed in slowly and held her breath for a minute before breathing out just as slowly. She then opened her eyes. Metal, she thought suddenly. I remember the smell of metal. A weird metal smell. She lifted her head up and rested her chin on her now clasped hands, staring out at nothing.
Ratchet looked her over curiously. "Everything alright?" he asked.
Leanne continued to stare. "Metal," she answered. "I could smell metal. It smelled like pennies," she iterated.
Ratchet tilted his head. "Is that so?"
Skyweaver made the noise that Transformers made that was similar to a human clearing their throat. "That would be the smell of the Microcons. They are made of the same base metal as my drones. Their metal gets that smell when they don't clean themselves regularly," he explained.
Leanne felt her eyebrows furrow at that. "… ew."
Skyweaver chuckled.
She shifted her weight, trying to make herself more comfortable. It was hard considering her pelvic bones were digging into the concrete. She sighed. "You know, I'm not sure this is going to work no matter what we do," she thought out loud.
"Oh?" Ratchet questioned, looking up to her. "Why is that?"
Leanne shook her head slowly. "I don't know. It just doesn't feel the same." It really didn't. Even if she had Ratchet pull a bed in here and she bundled up and acted like she was trying to sleep, it still wasn't the same. Something was just missing from the whole thing… and she wasn't readily sure what.
Will leaned his arms on the rails of the platform he, Sam, and Michaela were on. "Well, what can we do to help the process?" he called.
Leanne looked up, seeing him and the other two quite clearly as it still wasn't very dark. She shook her head. "I don't know… It just… it's not… I mean…" She huffed and sat up, putting her hands on her knees as she leaned her head against the wall. "It just… doesn't feel like last night, you know?" She glanced to them then shook her head, realizing how stupid that sounded. "What I mean is… it just doesn't seem… like a real thing." She wiggled her nose in frustration. "Okay, that sounds just as goofy," she mumbled. "What I mean is, I don't feel like… like this is the same," she shrugged, lifting her hands up before letting them fall into her lap. She sighed. "I mean… fuck, I don't know." She leaned forward again and rubbed her thumbs against her temples.
Ironhide adjusted his feet, thinking about what Leanne was saying. "Well… how did you feel last night when it was happening? How do you think you can make yourself feel the same again?"
Leanne groaned. "I felt… I felt pretty fucking anxious to be honest," she said, leaning back again. "I mean, it isn't every day that I got a Decepticon glaring down at me." She looked to Ironhide for a moment before narrowing her eyes and looking to the floor. "I guess that would be the factor… When they look at me, I know I'm in danger," she said, more or less thinking out loud. It was that way with the first one too. The first Decepticon she'd ever looked into the optics of… the big one in the alley, only a week ago. Wow… has it really been only a week? she asked herself. It seemed like it had been forever ago.
Ironhide tilted his head in thought. "Well… perhaps we should replicate a Decepticon then."
Leanne's head snapped up. "What?"
"Perhaps we should replicate a Decepticon," Ironhide repeated.
Leanne swallowed nervously. "What do you mean by that?"
"A hologram," he said simply.
Leanne tilted her head. "A hologram?"
Ironhide shrugged. "Yeah. I can just generate a hologram of a Decepticon slagger and have him 'menace' you."
Leanne felt her eyebrows furrow again. "Slagger?" She then looked to Optimus who suddenly crossed his servos and rubbed his digits into his shuttered optics.
"Don't teach her our swear words, Ironhide," he said, almost in the way an aggravated adult would address a teenager.
'Hide shrugged and looked to him with a smirk. "What? She was going to learn eventually."
Leanne chuckled. "Okay, well, what slagger do you have in mind then?" she asked, grinning as Optimus shook his head without looking up.
Ironhide chuckled himself. "Well, let's see…" He shifted his weight to his left side and put his digits to his chin plate. "We could always start with this pile of-"
"Ironhide," Optimus cut him off suddenly, a stern edge to his voice.
Ironhide merely snickered as he raised his hand to his helm, near his right temple. He moved his digits around for a moment before his optics suddenly glowed brightly, beams of light projecting from them.
Leanne looked on with interest, fascinated with the sudden light show. Until a dark, shadowy figure suddenly appeared in front of her. She looked up, scanning the towering figure until she got to it's glowing red optics. She hadn't even realized she'd stopped breathing as she noted that it looked exactly like the one that she had faced that night. Flashes of memory ran across her open eyes. Darkness, glaring lights against his features, the cool night air, the feel of her gun in her hands, screaming as she fired at it, running for her life as he had plunged his hand into the metal wall behind her, the blood thundering in her hears, the sudden appearance of… Anna-Lee… the look on her face, in her eyes as she'd looked down at her.
Ratchet watched Leanne's demeanor change drastically. He felt a pang of worry start to run through his spark. He turned to look at Ironhide, about to tell him to turn the hologram off, when a beeping caught his attention. He looked down to the monitor of the machine he was in front of, the unit designed to detect changes in electrical currents based on a pre-determined area of interest. It was detecting moderate levels of activity. And the activity was increasing by the second. He blinked, his optics trained on the screen as he raised a servo out to Ironhide. "Eh… 'Hide… Ironhide, I think you should turn it off."
Ironhide didn't catch what Ratchet had said, only that he had spoken. He was too busy paying attention to what he'd just caught on his own sensors. He initiated an actual scan, not quite believing it was an accurate ping. "Optimus… Optimus, do you… do you read what I'm reading?" he asked, his voice almost inaudible.
Optimus stood motionless, his own optics trained unwaveringly on Leanne, his sensors blaring like warning sirens in his cranium. He opened his mouth, but almost didn't register his own movements. He blinked. "Yes… Yes I think I do."
Skyweaver had his optics glued to his own screen. "Ratchet… Ratchet!" he called. "My… my scanner is detecting an EM field!"
Ratchet tore his optics from his own screen, looking through the hologram to Skyweaver. "What!?"
"He's right Ratchet," Optimus suddenly said, uncrossing his servos as he started his own scan again. "It's coming from Leanne."
Ironhide couldn't believe what he was reading, what they were saying. Did they even know how incomputable that sounded? Leanne couldn't have an EM field, not like them… she was human. He initiated his scan again, completely forgetting that he was running a preprogrammed hologram that was starting to move forward on it's own.
Leanne's eyes were glued to the towering figure above her. All she could see was the angry glow of it's optics, boring down at her. It moved it's right servo, and out of the corner of her eye she could see that it was forming a gun out of it's hand. She remembered blood thundering in her ears and how she'd screamed out of impulse. She then realized, she wasn't remembering the thundering… her ears were pounding. She could feel something in her gut akin to fear. So she thought. She wasn't really sure. The figure above her said something, it sounded horrible, even though he spoke in Cybertronian. Was she shaking?
Ratchet looked back to his monitor but only had a moment to glance at the readings before he heard an alarm go off from the machine to his left. He hurried to the machine, calibrated to detect abnormal electromagnetic build up. He looked to the screen and his optics went wide. He whipped around to look behind him. "Ironhide! Turn it off now!" he yelled. In the nanoseconds of time it took him to determine that Ironhide hadn't heard him, he heard the alarms from all the machines go off at once. "Ironhide!" He lunged for the weapons specialist.
Leanne heard shouting, but it seemed far away as she continued to stare into the optics of the figure in front of her. It narrowed it's optics and sneered before moving it's servo, bringing it's weapon up and aiming at her. It primed the shot. Her heart skipped a beat.
As if she'd been electrocuted she unfolded her legs in a jolt, pushing herself up the wall as she flung her arms out. In the distance she heard some sort of high pitched noise. She vaguely realized it was her voice. She could feel something, some strange sensation, rushing her entire body as the image suddenly flickered then disappeared from her view. Her vision went dark and she wondered for a moment if she'd gone blind.
Leanne blinked and suddenly all her senses came back to her like she'd been hit with a blast of water from a firehose. She screamed as she heard loud crashing noises and rampant electricity. She cringed and slid to the floor as sparks started erupting around her. She felt her blood thundering in her ears again and could feel her whole body shaking. She gasped for air, feeling as if she'd been punched in the stomach. "R-Ratchet…" she called shakily. She closed her eyes, covering her head as she heard more sparks erupt. She then felt an intense pin and needle feeling in her stomach and her mouth spontaneously started watering. "Oh God-" She lurched forward with just enough time to throw up the contents of her stomach.
… scanning … system error … loading backup … loading … circuit failure … overriding failsafe … loading … Ironhide shivered as he felt his systems coming back online. His joints throughout his frame twitched and shuffled, his system automatically checking stability. His optics finally came back online and he blinked them rapidly. He groaned and went to move. A proximity warning suddenly flared. He dismissed it and realized it was due to the weight he felt on his lower half. He leaned up, moving his left servo to lean on his elbow. He looked around, seeing that all the light bulbs had been blown out and sparks were erupting everywhere. He looked to his right and saw Will, Sam, and Michaela running down the stairwell of their platform. As they hit floor level, something suddenly entered his view. He blinked his optics and realized it was Optimus' foot. He blinked and looked in the direction Optimus' pedes were leading. It was then that he realized he had Ratchet in stasis on top of him and Optimus was lying flat on his front beside him, appearing to have fallen forward onto his faceplates. What? He shuttered his optics and shook his head. Then his audials came back online.
"Ironhide! Are you okay!?" came Will's panicked voice.
He cringed, feedback echoing through his head. "I'm fine, I'm fine!" he yelled. "What happened?" It was then that he felt movement at his pedes and looked to see Ratchet coming back online.
"I don't know," Will answered. He looked to see Michaela running to the wall where Leanne was. "I think it had to do with Leanne, though."
Ratchet felt his whole body shutter, shaking his head as his optics came back online. He spoke, feeling himself mouth the words "What happened?" but he realized his audials weren't working as he didn't hear anything. He pushed himself up and looked to see Ironhide underneath him. .:What happened, Ironhide?:. he commed.
.:I don't know, but it looks like everyone's out cold. Optimus is beside us, and I detect minimal readings from Skyweaver as well.:. Ironhide commed back. .:I asked Will and he says he thinks it was Leanne.:.
Ratchet cycled sharply through his intakes, rotating horizontally as he tried to stand, looking over to where Leanne was. He saw her slumped to the ground with Michaela at her side. He straitened his central column as he moved to stand, dismissing a random equilibrium warning as his audials suddenly came back to life. "Dah!" He flinched at the sudden sounds of the sparks, feedback echoing through his cranium as he shook his head. "Michaela! What is Leanne's status?" he called, looking to Optimus who was still in stasis as Ironhide started to stand.
"Um… She's… not good!" Michaela called.
Ratchet knelt to Optimus, pulling up on his shoulder just a fraction, seeing that his optics were starting to flicker, his body shuttering as he held him. "Okay, I'm coming." He lowered Optimus' shoulder to the ground, convinced that he was coming back online without issue. "Ironhide, go check Skyweaver," he ordered, pointing at the downed flyer.
"Already on it," Ironhide responded, shaking his servos out as he made his way across the floor.
Ratchet stood and stepped over the machinery that had been tossed to the floor by Optimus' landing. He took the few steps to the wall and knelt down, touching Michaela's shoulder with his digit-tips to have her move out of the way.
Leanne was heaving, her gag reflex in complete control as she retched. She could feel herself shaking uncontrollably as she clutched at her chest. "R… Ratchet," she croaked. Something was wrong.
"It's alright, I'm here," Ratchet said, commencing a scan of her body. He cycled sharply and suddenly gripped her under her arms. "Leanne, you need to relax for me, your heart is going into arrhythmia."
Leanne simply stayed still, having no idea how to relax at that current moment. She heaved one last time as she felt him pulling her backwards. She moved her legs, stretching them out as she felt his digits at her back, realizing he was laying her down. As she felt the concrete at her back, she felt a sharp sensation in her chest. "Haahhuuh…" she gripped at her shirt and suddenly couldn't move.
Ratchet felt his spark miss a rotation. "She's going into cardiac arrest! Michaela, get back!"
Ratchet's voice seemed far away. The air hitting her chest and abdomen as her shirt was ripped open seemed like the fluttering of a breeze on a warm day. Her vision was blurry and dark around the edges. She just barely started to register two glowing points of light above her. As the darkness in her vision started to overcome her, she realized it was the glow of Ratchet's optics. Huh… they look… kinda like stars…
Suddenly her ears were ringing and light flashed through her vision. The ringing sharpened as her senses came back to life. She felt herself convulse and almost didn't realize she'd flung her arms out to cling to the object above her. The ringing started to fade and she heard and felt a voice. "What?" she called instinctively. She blinked, her vision suddenly coming back to her, but without focus.
"Leanne, can you hear me?" came a voice, as terrified as it was strong.
Leanne blinked slowly, opening her eyes wide as she tried to see. "What, yeah… I can hear you." She tightened her grip and shook her head, trying to see what was around her but failing through the blurriness of her vision. She felt pressure at her back and clung to whatever she had a hold of instinctively. "Where… what happened?"
"Leanne, you need to let go of my hand," came the voice again, much calmer this time.
Leanne looked up in the direction of the voice, realizing she was holding onto something that was connected to it. She squinted, making out two pinpricks of light. "What? What am I…?" she looked down at what she was holding on to. She loosened her grip, looking at the metal under her fingertips as if she had never seen it before.
Michaela watched, her hand at her mouth. "Ratchet, is she going to be okay?" she asked, surprised at how shaky her voice was.
Ratchet glanced to her then looked back to Leanne who was still holding onto his digits but was seeming to get the idea to let go. He readjusted his other hand at her back, making sure to support her. "I think she will be alright… she's suffering disorientation right now… but her heart rate is back to normal." That was about the only thing that was normal right that moment.
Ratchet was trying to keep his processor from spending too much energy on what had just happened, trying to concern himself with Leanne's vitals… but it seemed he couldn't quite tuck it away. The image replayed once more: an image of electricity dancing over Leanne's skin like static in the dark. There had been nothing abnormal about the makeshift defibrillator he'd exchanged out of his hand. But when it had made contact with her… it was as if she was absorbing the electrical current, the excess current sparking through her skin like static to a Cybertronian.
Ratchet cycled a deep breath. I think I'm going to blow another fuse…
XoXoX
Optimus could only sigh through is vents. He blinked his optics yet again as he regarded the image of the Director of National Intelligence, Charlotte Mearing, on the screen in front of them. She was none too pleased.
The incident with Leanne had warranted immediate debriefing. Especially, since the whole ordeal had been caught on the hanger cameras that were stationed too far away to be affected by the inexplicable event. What had happened was easily answered: a surge of electrical current along with an EM burst. The details of how it had happened and what it really meant were the problem.
All current evidence pointed to Leanne as the producer of both the electrical surges and the EM burst. How she was doing it could not yet be determined, much to Mearing's chagrin. What was even more unsettling was that the EM burst that she appeared to be emitting wasn't affecting the normal electrical systems in her vicinity; it was affecting Transformers. The human electrical equipment was being knocked out by the electrical surges, hardware destroyed and circuitry fried before the EMP was even emitted. The actual burst of Electro Magnetic energy seemed to be specifically attuned to Cybertronian systems. This examination and realization was almost enough to make Ratchet blow another fuse. Almost.
Optimus shook his head and rested his hands on his hip-joints. "We still do not have enough information on this to give conclusive answers," he said, finally darting his optics from Mearing's piercing stare. "We have to conduct further tests before-"
"Before what, exactly?" Mearing suddenly chimed in, leaning forward on her just visible desk to clasp her hands together and put her weight on her elbows. "Before she blows the base's mainframe offline? Before she offlines all of you permanently?" she said, her tone as condescending as it was serious. "We can't afford that kind of risk-"
"With all do respect, Mearing," Will cut in, waving his hand in a placating gesture, "we do have the situation under moderate control. It was a test we conducted in a controlled environment, expecting the worst to-"
"Control?" Mearing questioned incredulously. "Control, Commander? Are you kidding me? I've already reviewed that footage about five times now, you had as much control of her as you have over a tornado in Texas!" she said, disbelief and aggravation blatant in her expression.
"Mearing, please stay calm," Ratchet began.
"Excuse you, C.M.O, I am calm," she said, pinning him done with her icy gaze.
"If I can read your facial expressions as well as I am capable of reading your vitals when you are physically present, then I would have to say you are starting to exacerbate the situation," Ratchet said smoothly, unaffected.
Mearing raised her eyebrows in tandem, looking at Ratchet with her full attention. "Oh really, how so?" she asked quickly.
Ratchet sighed through his vents smoothly, even as his processor continued to overheat. He dismissed a sudden warning ping and refocused on the diminutive power house on screen. "As Will said, it was a controlled experiment in a controlled environment. If we had conducted it in my med bay then perhaps there would have been more reason to question our mentalities." He rested his own hands on his hip-joints, mirroring Optimus. "As far as experiments with currently undiscovered variables go, that was probably a better outcome than could have happened."
"Really? It could have been worse? Do you mean like maybe being unable to start her heart up again, her blowing the island of Diego Garcia off the map?" Mearing shot without skipping a beat. She angled her head down and seemed to pin Ratchet to the wall with her eyes. "Ratchet, I shouldn't need to tell you to take your patient's lives seriously."
Ratchet visibly flinched as a pang of anger suddenly jolted through his spark. He opened his mouth to rebut… but the words didn't even clear his processor. He snapped his mouth shut and vented forcefully. "Do not insult my coding, Mearing," he responded lowly, a slight growl to his already gravelly voice. "I had-"
"What you had, Chief Medical Officer, was a case of far too excited to be functioning properly," Mearing said, cutting him off. "That was a blatant error in your calculations and you know it."
"Mearing, keep in mind," Optimus said, raising a hand to grip the railing of the platform Will was standing on, "the only data to go on was from the night before, during which the surges and EMP that were deduced to have happened were far less extreme and had a much smaller impact radius. Ratchet extrapolated the distance needed between the machinery and Leanne based on the examinations of the room she had slept in, even calculating an extra foot of distance for leeway." He glanced to Ratchet before looking back to her. "There was no reason for us to believe that her second occurrence would reach approximately seven times further than the original outburst."
Mearing finally leaned back, removing one hand from her desk to rub at her temples. "If I remember correctly, Optimus, none of you have reason to believe anything as far as this human is concerned." She huffed lightly. "If she's even human."
Ratchet felt slight indignation at such a comment and crossed his servos. "Every scan, test, and examination has confirmed that Leanne Holmes is human in every aspect-"
"Really!? Really?" Mearing said, her eyes shooting right back to Ratchet's optics with barely contained irritation. "How exactly can that be the case when she apparently has energon bonded to her cellular structures at a molecular level? How can you tell me that when this apparently normal human turned into a living magnet? How can you tell me that when she literally just downed four of the most skilled and knowledgeable transformers that the Autobots have to offer?!" she shot, almost shouting her last sentence.
Ratchet blinked his optics quickly in surprise. He examined the image of Mearing and suddenly felt worry tug at him. By appearance alone she appeared to be growing more and more stressed and agitated as this still brief meeting continued. Her strained facial expression was highlighted by cheeks that had flushed a light pink, her ears following suit, a noticeable throb just under her jaw along her throat, and widened eyes with dilated pupils situated under fiercely drawn down brow ridges that created an expression indicative of anger. Something was wrong, and it was potentially unrelated to their newest patient.
He then shuttered his optics again and came back to the situation, shaking his head slightly. "I… I cannot alter the results, Charlotte," he said quietly, uttering her given name without thinking.
Mearing visibly sank, her expression softening just a fraction, her head tilting down as she took a deep breath. However, her eyes did not lose their charge. She blinked finally and looked back to Optimus. "I'm coming out to base. I will interrogate her myself."
"For God's sake," Will suddenly stood from his leaning position at the railing, "she's not a prisoner, Mearing, she's a victim!"
"That statement aside, you have yet to confirm that you have any real operational control over this situation," Mearing rebutted, her face regaining the normal cool calm she was known for. "I am going to be on base, and I will be interrogating her. That is final. Until then," she looked directly to Ratchet then back to Optimus, "you will cease all further tests and experiments until further notice. You will confine her to her quarters and keep her under strict guard at all times. Is that understood?"
Optimus didn't even have time to respond.
"How exactly is that going to help the situation?" Ratchet asked, uncrossing his servos to put a hand against the wall, almost as if he needed the support.
"It will help by keeping her under twenty-four-hour surveillance while keeping her away from most of the populace. Be lucky I'm not ordering her confined to the brig." Mearing's tone left nothing to be argued.
Optimus sighed though his vents. "Very well. We shall escort her to her quarters once she has woken."
"No. You will do so as soon as this meeting is concluded. Carry her on a stretcher if you have to," Mearing said pointedly, leveling a glance to Optimus before finally looking away to reach to her right, pulling into view a green folder and opening it. "Moving on. What updates do you have on the Rebuild Project?" she asked, her eyes glued to the paper.
Ratchet knew the question was directed at him. He averted his gaze, pushing Leanne's situation from his processor to access the files for what Mearing was referring to. "We are doing well. Jetfire is almost ready. I have a few minor tweaks to his sensor arrays and calibrations to make on the internal support structure but otherwise, he is ready. Que… " he trailed off.
Mearing looked from the paper, leveling yet another piercing gaze to the medical officer. "Que?"
Ratchet looked to his hand on the wall, if for no other reason than to avoid her gaze. "Que is still a work in progress. His processor was much more developed than the average 'bot and had more intricate pathways and delicate circuits than even myself. While the majority of it was recovered intact, the parts that were severely damaged are proving harder to repair and rebuild."
Mearing finally looked away, back to the papers that held the specific details of the progress. "Do we have an eta on completion?"
Ratchet tapped his digits to the wall gently, calculating. "I would say Jetfire has no less than a week before we can reanimate. Que… no accurate estimate on timeframe." He finally angled his optics back to her.
Mearing's eyes fluttered over the information, her contacts allowing her the freedom to absorb the information quickly without having to hold her glasses onto her face as she usually did. She sniffed, seeming satisfied. "Understood." She closed the folder, sliding it back out of view. "I'll get to welcome at least one of these Frankensteins of yours," she commented, her tone so ambiguous it was hard to tell if she was being sarcastic or not.
"What, you gonna wait a whole week before coming out?" Lennox questioned, his arms and legs crossed as he leaned against the rail.
"No, Commander, I'm going to be on base for a month," Mearing answered, clasping her hands again.
"What?" Lennox barked in surprise, Optimus and Ratchet snapping to attention.
"You heard me." Mearing's expression remained cool. "I will be on base for twenty-eight days."
Lennox looked to Optimus and Ratchet, who merely glanced to him as if feeling his gaze. He looked back and raised an eyebrow quizzically. "Why?"
Mearing raised her own in response. "I'm the one who asks the questions, Commander," she stated smoothly. Something in her tone was off. And all three of them could feel it.
Optimus shifted his weight, nodding to the screen. "When should we expect your arrival?" he asked, keeping himself composed.
"I'll arrive at fifteen-hundred tomorrow. Make sure staff and personnel are prepared for a thorough inspection," she said, tilting her head slightly to the side jutting her chin out oddly; a motion that was also off.
Optimus focused his optics, magnifying her image to see her expression more clearly. She was dropping oh-so-subtle-hints about something. That much, he was sure of. "Understood," he affirmed.
Mearing unclasped her fingers and tapped them together at their tips as she took a deep breath. "Alright, any more information to relay before we terminate this session?"
Optimus glanced to Will and Ratchet before looking to her again and shaking his head. "Nothing further."
Mearing nodded. "Understood. See you in twenty-six hours." She looked to her right and nodded.
As the screen went dark all three individuals in the room took deep breaths and sighed.
Will stood from the railing and threw his arms up. "What the hell was that?" he asked, practically glaring at the screen.
Optimus narrowed his optics and shook his head with a twitch. "Something is up and she is trying to clue us in." He tightened his grip on the railing.
Mearing sighed as she leaned back in her chair, her head sinking as she closed her eyes. She lifted a hand and rubbed her temples, trying to fight the already building pressure in her head.
"Are you going to tell 'zem?"
She took a deep breath, continuing to rub her finger and thumb in a counter clockwise motion at each temple. "Of course I am, Dutch," she said lowly, tiredly. "Just not while sitting in this chair in the crosshairs of every piece of recording equipment known to man."
Dutch, Simmons' former assistant and now hers, returned his focus to said equipment. "I can shut down 'ze primary functions of all equipment in 'zis room, you know. Just a sign from you and ve're black and static to all feeds," he said matter-of-factly.
"I know, Dutch," Mearing said, leaning her head back as she let her hands fall to her lap, her eyes still closed against the coming migraine. "I think they got the point, though."
XoXoX
He had been looking at the same line, in the same paragraph, on the same page, on the same data pad for nearly thirty minutes. Ratchet wasn't even trying to read it anymore, his own thoughts taking up too much room in his processor. He didn't even remember what the data pad's information pertained to.
He was too focused on Leanne. On the readings he had taken, on the readings from the others. The patient in question was no longer in med bay, having been taken to her room at the barracks via stretcher, just as ordered. But it made no difference. He felt almost painfully aware of her existence, having used the sensor array network on base to zero in on her heat signature. As if he needed to. The drones were doing their job flawlessly. He shuttered his optics slowly.
An EM field. An Electro Magnetic field.
Most humans were barely able to grasp the concept of what it was, in relation to Cybertronian "biology". And yet, Leanne had been producing one, clear as day. No different than the energon that saturated her very existence, it was there and readable. And he was, once again, completely at a loss as to how and why. He still couldn't even deduce how she was creating the electrical surges, EM pulses, or even the magnetization from earlier! Though, the magnetization seemed to have been involuntary.
He opened his optics and stared aimlessly at the data pad again, not even seeing the Cybertronian glyphs that made up their language. "Ratchet, I shouldn't need to tell you to take your patient's lives seriously." He flinched as the words wafted through his processor for the hundredth time.
What exactly should he have done? That was why she was hear, was it not? To protect her, help her, study her physiology, understand what was happening. How was he to do that without experimentation to go with the testing? Yes, he had been excited, but he'd seen it at the time as a welcome change to the gridlock his processor had been getting into lately. Leanne's outrageously contradictory and still developing biology was enough to make former Chief of Law Enforcement Prowl's logic coding unravel, and he'd had the most complete and functioning "logic processor" in the existence of Cybertron. Ratchet was lucky to even get an appropriate amount of recharge, being that his processes took so long to wind down from the endless loops of theories, hypotheses, and clashes of contradicting information.
Ratchet cycled heavily through his vents and shook his head, leaning back slightly on the stool and finally moving his free servo, touching a digit to the data pad, intent on scrolling to perhaps rekindle his interest in whatever this was about- only to have the pad abruptly ripped from his grasp.
Ratchet blinked his optics in surprise as he looked to his light blue assistant, Jadda. "What was that about?" he asked, resting his hands to his pedes regardless.
Jadda kept her optics on him as she maneuvered the data pad in her hands, pressing a digit-tip to the button at the side and turning it off. "You've been staring at this for forty-seven minutes and fifty-two seconds. I highly doubt you are reading it," she said in her usual collected tone.
Ratchet blinked his optics again and heaved a sigh, the air rushing almost painfully through his vents. "I would guess that means I am uninterested in the subject matter," he mused, looking away to focus on the window to his left.
Jadda placed the data pad down on the exam table, her optics continuing to observe her superior officer. "You need to do something about that."
Ratchet blinked his optics then narrowed them. "Do something about what?" he asked, looking back to her.
"Your overthinking processor."
Ratchet scoffed. Or, the Cybertronian equivalent, a static ridden hiss forced out of his vocal processor. He shook his head and looked back to the window. "I doubt there is much I can really do for that," he responded.
Jadda tilted her head. "There are several things you could do; one of which includes sharing more of the responsibilities with your supporting officers."
Ratchet leaned back a fraction more, his shoulders slumping. "You act as if I treat you as a trainee," he commented, his optics looking out the window but hardly at the scenery.
"You certainly don't do that. But you overwork yourself," Jadda said unabashedly.
Ratchet directed his optics back to her and raised an optic ridge. "Is this something you've always noticed, or are you just now becoming aware of it?" he asked, both curious and slightly annoyed. Curious because Jadda had never spoken those words before. Annoyed because he was hardly in the mood to hear them; no matter how true they may be.
Jadda tilted her head, her optics never leaving his. She took a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Any 'bot who does not notice how hard you are constantly working is truly malfunctioning," she stated.
Ratchet blinked his optics slowly, feeling the fatigue suddenly washing over his circuits as if Jadda had awoken it with her words. "Well… I will not argue the validity of that statement. However, it is of no consequence." He averted his gaze and looked out the window again. "You and Damackell are my supporting officers, but I am still the Chief Medical Officer. And," he hesitated, "unfortunately, the only fully equipped medical officer. You know as well as I do that there are some tasks that I am the only one capable of performing." He hated to say it aloud, though it was certainly a truth that every Autobot on base was aware of.
A medical officer who was fully trained and certified as a functioning member of the medical field was not simply a 'bot who knew an energon line from an interface port; he was a fully enhanced and upgraded mech, outfitted with the most advanced and current up to date tools, scanners, and sensor arrays available at the time. Ratchet had completed his full regiment of training and study long ago, having graduated with his seal of completion, the very physical emblem itself permanently etched into the back of his cranial cap. Jadda, in her time, had only had the opportunity to complete 2 of the 4 courses the regiment consisted of. Damackell had completed 3 of the 4.
While his supporting officers were integral, utterly indispensable, and more appreciated than they might even be aware of, they just weren't as capable when matched up to Ratchet.
Ratchet heaved a sigh though his vents. "Honestly… I wish I had the means to continue your education. If you were to even be interested."
Jadda raised on optic ridge, her lip plates moving up in the corners with a slight smile. "Of course I would be… It was my ambition after all," she conceded. She then finally looked from her superior's faceplates, her optics landing on his hands; In and of themselves the wonder of the medical profession. "But that would put even more strain on your already taxed processor. You only have so much yield before you blow a fuse or damage your circuits due to overheating. Or worse."
Ratchet chuckled lowly. "Well… I gather that I am not that far gone," he said. He leaned forward, resting his servo joint to his pede as he ran his digits over his faceplates and helm, hardly bashful of showing his exhaustion openly, at least not right this moment with only Jadda as witness.
Jadda regarded his demeanor. She resisted the urge to bite her lip plate with her denta. She was worried over his status, often monitoring it within a subsystem so as not to seem obvious that she was paying him so much attention. As he surmised, he was certainly not at the point of malfunctioning or even damage. But one thing always led to another.
Her optics caught sight of his free hand, resting heavily on his pede. She purposely stopped a ventilation, and made sure her EM field was properly restrained. Though, why she might feel… anxious concerning a simple act was rather curious. She reached out, gently brushing her digit-tips along the top of his plating and down over his own digits, feathery and light. "You should rest," she said, speaking before he could comment, "proper recharge will do you good." With that she turned started for the med bay door.
Ratchet had felt the sensors in his hand spark to life, tingling with the resonance of her slight touch. He promptly ignored the sensation, running his other digits into his shuttered optics, relieving the static of optics onlined too long. "Mmm…" he uttered simply.
Jadda glanced over her shoulder as the med bay door opened. "A good overload would too," she said as if noticing the climate, not slowing her steps.
Ratchet nodded, running his digits out of his optics finally to tap them to his helm. "Mmm. Yes, I think I'll have to- wait- wha- WHAT?!" His optics shot to the door which was already closed.
He blinked his optics repeatedly, the tiny clicking noises ringing through the now silent room. "Did…" Ratchet's optics were glued to the door as he replayed Jadda's last words. He sat up straight, both servos angled onto his pedes. He shook his head, wrenching his optics from the door to look at the floor with as much disbelief. "Primus… Like Gasket just jumped out of the Well and took over my staff…" he muttered to himself.
XxXxX
Info: Just in case anyone was wondering, Gasket = Ratchet's mentor.
Hope you enjoy, have a nice read, a nice night, and a nice day!