Happy impending New Year everyone! I come bringing a longer-than-usual chapter! I hope you like it. Several canon mechs are going to be introduced in this chapter, so I would advise reading the Author's Note where I introduce them in order to help prevent confusion. Also, I will be answering the reviews so wonderfully written about my Christmas one-shot in this Review Response section.
Review Response: Dear SunnySides, hi! Yeah ... sorry if the feels were a little too intense. Hopefully this chapter will cheer you up again.
Dear dark-dreams-of-love, greetings! Thank you for the compliments, I am honored that you like my story so much!
Dear KHGiggle, hello! I love that song. I have it on my music player I love it so much. So when I figured out that Starwish was going to sing at the funeral, that song was a natural choice. Being a giant immortal robot isn't all fun and games and Starwish is fully aware of that fact. I know your frustration, I could never understand why the characters in so many 'transformation' stories are just, "Oh cool, I'm a robot and will never see my family or friends again! Let's go fight Megatron!" It never seemed plausible to me. Unless the character happens to be an eight year old mischief making twinling, than that reaction is perfectly normal because it's all a game to them. Yes, Starwish is going to be a medic, sorry for making everyone wait so long for that to be confirmed. These chapters have a will of their own sometimes. That would be Optimus Prime's plan at work, give the trouble makers a taste of their own medicine to calm them down. Here is a new chapter for you!
Also, in response to your Christmas and Cyber-Kittens review, yes! Someone other than me thinks femme-Soundwave is a good idea! Gender-bending is fun. A femme Red Alert sounds like an interesting story twist, ever think about doing a femme Ironhide? I think that would be fun to see. It would be a 'mechs beware, she has cannons and loves to use them!' kind of moment. Actually, around twenty vorns would have passed I think, because I doubled their ages in vorns. Case in point, the twinlings current mental age is eight years old so the Cybertronian equivalent of that is sixteen vorns. I think. I'm still on the fence about the concept. Twinlings? Feel old? Nah, they just see it as more time to race around pranking people. In my head-canon, the mini-cassettes are younglings who were forced to grow up too fast. Ravage is the oldest of them, but he still has his youngling programming because he never had a chance to work it out of his maturity matrix properly. Soundwave is their Guardian/Surrogate Creator but doesn't have a sparkmate. Being one of the few femme gladiators on Cybertron, I kind of imagine Soundwave adopting the orphaned mechlings of other gladiators who were killed in the ring. Laserbeak is the youngest and the only non-adopted member of her brood. Soundwave petitioned for a spark from the Well and Laserbeak was the result. As for their frames, who a mech or femme bonds with doesn't determine the frame of the youngling, as long as the spark is large enough to sustain it, any frame can be used. Ravage and Laserbeak have 'animal' frames in order to help disguise the fact that they are actually younglings and not mere drones.
Dear Giddy, hello there! Thank you for the compliments, I hope you enjoy this new chapter! In response to your Christmas and Cyber-Kittens review, I would like to thank you again for the compliment! Transformers and cats are two of my favorite subjects as well, so the one-shot was fun to write. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
Dear Abyss Prime, hi! I'm glad you liked it despite the sadness. Here is a new chapter that I hope you like as well.
Dear twonormalgirlsandaiportal, greetings! Don't worry, this voice is friendly. Besides, random voices might not be considered a particularly good thing, but they still come up with the most awesome ideas sometimes! (laughs)
Dear Savvy Orion childofcommander, hello! I'm glad you like the cookies, I roped my new Starscream toy into making them. You'd be amazed what you can get him to do if you promise glitter glue, Megatron, and a blind optic (snickers). I am very glad you approve of the last chapter, it was very difficult to write. I'm glad you looked up the song and liked it, it is one of my favorites to listen to when I'm feeling down. I thought is was simply too appropriate for the previous chapter to not feature it. Your hugs have been passed on and very much appreciated, the twinlings send you a thank you energon candy in return (feel free to give it to your OCs if you don't like the flavor). This new chapter I'm posting is definitely on a different note than the previous one. I felt mildly silly writing it, but my friend enjoyed it so I thought everyone else might as well. Characters ... ugh, I gave my self a headache researching them all there were so many. Even if they aren't mentioned by name, there are a lot of them to look up on the wikis.
Silvermetric is a good name for an OC, and if you decide to make it an actual character instead of S.O's code name (an awesome code name if you choose to keep it that way) you could always have Silvermetric get mistaken for S.O because of similar frame types ... maybe. Completely up to you of course. Fun fact, Starwish was originally going to be schizophrenic, her alternate personality being an assassin codenamed Blackspark. But once I decided that Starwish was going to be a human-turned-Cybertronian, the Blackspark personality just didn't click with her anymore. Blackspark is now her own character, haunting around in my mind and scaring my muses into cooperating with me. So I know how you feel on the Silvermetric/Savvy Orion matter. Who would Silvermetric be paired to? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but that sly grin is making me curious.
In regards to your questions, Optimus has still been unable to fully figure out the code in Starwish's processor. I haven't forgotten that little matter, but my brain is telling me that Optimus is going to have to wait until he's in Iacon again to decode it. Maybe he visits Alpha Trion for assistance? I could feature make a Smokescreen cameo. I'm still trying to figure out how and when Optimus goes to Iacon for the visit. How did I come up with Hardwire's name? Wow, uh ... that's a very long story. The short version? Hardwire was originally the name of a different OC I was working on, a Shattered Glass Decepticon who wound up on Transformers Prime earth, but when I started working on Michael and trying to figure out what his mech name would be, the name Hardwire just started popping into my head. Nothing else seemed to fit, so after a while I gave in and renamed the Shattered Glass mech to something else, freeing up the name Hardwire for Michael to use. If I might offer advice, if you're having trouble with mech names, try going to a website called Fantasy Name Generators and look up the World of Warcraft night elf generator it has. The last names it generates can be very inspiring when I'm stumped on what to call a character. He also just posted a Transformers name generator, so you could try that too if you like. That or look up words involving your OC's profession. Good luck with naming your OC and I hope you like the new chapter! Have a wonderful New Year with many blessings!
Author's Note: Introductions! Hold on to your blasters, because there are several today. First up is ... Wheeljack from Transformers Prime! He doesn't join the 'main cast' yet so to speak, but he has a guest appearance in this chapter. Also making a temporary entrance is Pyro, a Wrecker that Wheeljack mentioned in the Transformers Prime series, Perceptor (G1), and Seaspray (Transformers Prime). Becoming official additions to the canon cast are Bluestreak (G1), Blaster (G1) and his cassettes Steeljaw, Rewind, Eject, Ramhorn, and Rosanna (all G1 I believe). Also in the crowd but not named in this chapter is Inferno (G1), and uh ... (whispers fearfully) G1 Wheeljack. (Runs for cover) I can explain! Recently I've been reading fanfic stories about the G1 Autobots and while Wheeljack from the Prime series was the first I'd ever heard of and I think he is awesome, Wheeljack from G1 was just so adorable! So when it came time to put a Wheeljack in the story, I couldn't decide which one to feature. That was when I noticed that the Wheeljack in the Michael Bay movies has G1 Wheeljack's personality but is called Que. So ... I thought that maybe Wheeljack from the Prime-verse could have an explosion prone sibling named Que who makes those grenades we see Wheeljack flinging around in the episodes. That way ... I could show both of them ... (hides behind a blast proof shield) does that make sense? Or is it some kind of Transformers sacrilege to feature two versions of one character in the same story? If it is, my apologies, but I don't plan on changing it. Both of the Wheeljacks are just too much fun to pick between them! (Offers cookies as a peace offering). In think that's everyone.
Copyright Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, Cybertronian terms, the song If You Believe by Lisa Kelly, or any references made in this story. The only things I own are the plot and my OCs.
Chapter Twenty One: New Arrivals
Jazz slipped into the medbay as inconspicuously as possible, his optics flicking left and right in search of any wrench wielding medics before padding silently toward the storage room. If the medbay schedule was still the same, and it almost certainly was, then his target would be inside the room used for tool storage, organizing everything inside. Not that he was interested in medical tools, no, he was after something completely different that happened in the room.
Sure enough, when Jazz crept stealthily up to the door and carefully pressed his audio receptor against the wall next to it, he could hear it, the soft notes of a voice raised in melodic patterns and words he could only understand part of. A deep rumble of pleasure rose in his engine and Jazz had to work to keep it silent. Ever since the funeral for Bulletpoint, Dark-Trail, and Motioncap, Jazz had become obsessed with the strange music Starwish made. Namely, singing.
Back before the war, when there had been femme creators still around, it was not completely uncommon to hear them purring their engines and speaking soothing words to match it in an effort to put their sparklings into recharge. That was known as singing on Cybertron. When Starwish had timidly mentioned once that she sang sometimes, Jazz had assumed it was something she picked up from her own creators to put the twinlings Zip and Track into recharge. But what she had done at the funeral … the song she had sung, it was not the singing he knew of.
When she had raised her voice in a melody only she knew, she had put into words all of the things they needed to be reminded of on such a dark cycle. She had reminded them that there was hope even in the loss. It had made his spark vibrate in its chamber in a way he had never experienced before and ever since then he had felt the desire, the need, to hear Starwish's version of singing again.
He had learned by accident that when Starwish was working and thought herself totally alone, she would sing. So, whenever he had a spare moment off duty, he would creep into the medbay and listen through the wall to hear her sing. He had to work hard to keep from being discovered, Ratchet would most certainly show him no mercy if the CMO thought he was stalking Starwish with 'mechly' intent. He would also tell Ultra Magnus and that would certainly not end well at all. However, Ratchet was currently busy tending Red Alert, a project that would certainly take at least a joor because of the security officer's intense paranoia glitch. Therefor, Jazz could afford to risk listening in longer than usual.
Sitting down carefully with his back against the wall and his audio receptors turned up to their highest sensitivity, he closed his optics and focused on the partially muffled sound. The song was different from the other ones he had heard so far, it was happy and faster in tempo, seeming to bounce lightly across his audios. Judging by the cadence, he had missed the very beginning of it, slag. Oh, well.
Settling back, Jazz let the verses wash over him, filling his spark with its melody, his entire frame nearly quivering with pleasure and the urge to dance:
"Time to tumble apples from their branches,"
"Time to turn the breezes crisp and cold,"
"A chill enfolds the country side…"
"Kiss of morning mist upon the meadows,"
"Scent of woodsmoke swirling in the air,"
"Signals that it's high time for the harvest,"
"Every pumpkin, peach, and prickly pear,"
"With ripened fruit to bear…!"
"If you believe in who you are,"
"Who you were always meant to be."
"If you open up your spark,"
"Then you'll set your spirit free."
"In this time of the season"
"Every leaf on every tree, will start to shine"
"Come and see,"
"Take my hand,"
"Come with me and fly!"
Starwish's voice broke off from the words to sound out what might have been the accompaniment music to the song. What was that sound called again? Humming? Yes, that was it. Jazz's pede began unconsciously tapping ever so softly with pleasure. The previous songs he had heard had all been slow and melancholy compared to this one. This one made him want to dance and bounce instead of bow his helm in quiet memory like the first song he had ever heard her sing had.
He was so absorbed in listening to the song, even the words he didn't understand, that he almost failed to notice Ratchet stepping out of Red Alert's room to get something. However, his sensitive audios couldn't miss the loud thump, thump, of Ratchet's pedes as the medic turned to caution Red Alert one last time against trying to move before he came back.
Jazz was on his pedes instantly, processor working frenziedly to find either a good excuse, or a place to hide. Realizing that he wouldn't have an excuse for being near the storage room that could fool Ratchet and that said medic was also blocking his route out of the medbay, Jazz darted into the one room that could hide him; the storage room outside of which he'd been listening.
As soon as the door slid open and he darted in, Starwish stopped her singing with a surprised squeak and stared at him guiltily. Jazz hastily moved out of the door's sensor range, hoping that Ratchet hadn't noticed him go in and inwardly cursing that he had interrupted the music. "Jazz? W-what are you doing in here?" Starwish's startled voice, while it couldn't have been too far above her normal volume, sounded like a shout worthy of Omega Supreme because of how far his audio receptors were turned up.
Jazz winced and hurriedly lowered his audio sensitivity while shushing her, "Not so loud, Star. Ah'm in hidin'."
Starwish blinked curiously at him before glancing at the door, "Um … okay," she whispered softly, "in hiding from what?"
Jazz now found himself trying to find an excuse that would keep Starwish from being suspicious of him, which was, surprisingly harder to do than think up one for Ratchet. Since when had his glossa felt so immovable? Shrugging easily to hide his thought process, he whispered back, "The Hatchet, who else?"
Starwish's mouth quirked into a quizzical smile, "Then why are you back here? Are you trying to duck your checkup?"
Jazz started to confirm that convenient excuse, but realizing that she might know that he'd already had his checkup, he had to stop the words from coming out. This abrupt reversal in vocal plans led to an embarrassed, "Uh…"
Starwish's smile grew a little bit and she shook her helm, "The Jazz-mech at a loss for words, Ratchet must be really scary to you when checkup time rolls around."
Hoping to turn the subject from his presence in the storage room, Jazz asked innocently, "An he ain't scary ta you?"
Starwish shrugged, "I suppose, but I'm starting to get used to him. He's more bark than bite, really." She turned away from Jazz to resume putting tools away. Jazz watched her for a few kliks, highly disappointed when she didn't resume singing. She never does it in front of others, except that one time.
That thought brought up another concern and Jazz sidled up to her and asked quietly, "How yah feeling, Starwish? Doing okay?"
Starwish paused in putting a large frequency scanner on its shelf, her frame stiffening at the question, "All right … I suppose. I … I try not to think about it during work." Jazz frowned sympathetically from behind his visor. She's doing fairly well for only three metacycles after the funeral. Guess she must have more experience in this than I thought. Slag.
Starwish suddenly turned to face him, "Uh, if you need a checkup … I could do it for you. Ratchet's been teaching me that sort of thing."
Frag, I thought she forgot about that already. "Na, Ah'm good."
Starwish narrowed her optics, suddenly suspicious, "Are you saying that because you've already had a checkup or because you don't trust me to do one?"
He hesitated for a klik, on one servo he had the risk of being exposed, on the other, insulting an emotionally strained femme. Neither option was very appealing but tears seemed far worse than embarrassment and possible wrenches, "Actually … Ah was back here 'cause I wanted ta … hear somethin'…" He admitted slowly.
Starwish stiffened and she looked utterly horrified. Her vocalizer squeaked as she whispered, "Hear … something?"
Jazz nodded tentatively, "Well yea', Ah … was kinda hoping ta hear yah sing again."
Starwish's cheeks flushed blue and she backed up until she was pressed against the shelved wall, ducking her helm against her chest plates shyly, "Oh … oh dear."
Jazz was suddenly struck by the thought of how adorable Starwish looked when she was flustered, her body posture just making him want to gently hug her fears away. He roughly imprisoned that thought and focused on not ruining his only chance to hear singing again, "Don' be like that, Starwish. Ah love your singing, it's so different an' pretty. Ah know ah shouldn't have been listening in, but Ah just couldn't help myself. It's beautiful ta listen ta."
Starwish was still focusing on the floor as she whispered, "You really think so?"
Jazz cocked his helm to one side and stepped closer to her until their frames were almost touching, using one of his fingers to lift her chin, "Ah know so." She raised her optics to meet his, their mismatched depths shining with timid hope at his words, her faceplates still dusted with a soft blue shade. Jazz felt his spark skip several beats, the words he'd intended to say suddenly vanishing from his processor in favor of realizing just how beautiful her optics were, how delicately shaped her faceplates were, how perfect she seemed to have become.
Starwish whispered softly, "Jazz?" From behind his visor, Jazz watched her lips move in something akin to fascination. He found himself unconsciously leaning in closer, wanting to observe her face in more detail. Starwish's optics flickered softly, "Jazz?" she repeated timidly, her voice brushing over Jazz's audios like she was singing. Jazz hummed absently in acknowledgement, his processor barely registering what he was doing as he leaned one servo on the shelf to keep from over balancing.
The moment of total fascination with the small white femme was shattered without warning when something slammed into the back of his helm with a painful 'clang'. Jazz felt his vision flicker as he immediately let go of Starwish's chin and the shelf in favor of clutching his helm with both servos, "Frag!"
He had barely started to turn around to face his attacker when he was met with an angry, ranting, wrench wielding, and generally fragged off Ratchet. Ratchet grabbed him firmly by one helm fin-come-audio amplifier and started painfully dragging him out of the storage room while repeatedly yelling insults and hitting him with a wrench to punctuate them, "Fragging rust-bitten, two-byte processing, dim-sparked, knock-off creation of a retro-rat! What did you think you were doing?"
Jazz squirmed and wiggled, trying to get free from the clutches of 'The Hatchet' as he protested between helm smacks, "Ah wasn't- doing anythin- fraggit Ratch! Stop-ow! Ow! Ow! Hey!"
Ratchet might not have been the strongest mech on base, but when fully enraged he could prove capable of many things that were not expected of him. Physically throwing Jazz out of the medbay by his audio receptor was one of these things and soon Jazz founding himself fleeing for his life from an endless barrage of wrenches, spanners, screwdrivers, and an active buzz-saw while Ratchet chased him down the halls yelling about 'proper actions around minors' coupled with several unrepeatable phrases of an insulting nature.
As Jazz desperately transformed and drove away in his alt mode he couldn't help but wonder something similar to what Ratchet had bellowed earlier. What had he been doing? He'd never experienced anything like that before, even when flirting with other femmes. It was like some other part of him had simply taken over. A siren started up behind him, signaling that Ratchet had also broken base law and was now pursuing him in his alt-mode, still cursing liberally. Jazz careened around corners and between the legs of startled Autobots, headed for the brig and, hopefully, safety behind its bars so he could puzzle out his own actions without fear of imminent disassembly.
Starwish blinked as Ratchet came out of nowhere and dragged Jazz off, cursing more liberally than she had ever heard before. Her processor was spinning, what … just happened? Jazz had been talking to her, revealing that he'd eavesdropped on her singing, when he'd suddenly stopped and simply stared at her. It had confused her, especially when saying his name received nothing more then a vague grunt in response. He had leaned in closer and Starwish had begun to feel almost afraid when Ratchet and First Aid had suddenly arrived, the former dragging Jazz off by one audio amplifier and hitting him with wrench the entire way. First Aid was hovering next to her now, asking if she was alright.
Starwish shook herself slightly and said, "I-I'm fine, First Aid. Just … confused. What just happened?"
First Aid gently wrapped one arm around her shoulders and guided her out of the storage room, "I honestly don't know, Starwish. But it looked a lot like Jazz was-" he suddenly cut himself off, not finishing his previous sentence.
Starwish felt like there was something obvious she was missing, so she verbally prodded, "Jazz was what? What did it look like he was doing?"
First Aid's optics were looking everywhere but her as they reached the main room of the medbay and she idly perched on a berth. First Aid's voice was barely above a whisper as he finished, "It looked as if Jazz was trying to take 'advantage' of you…"
Starwish was instantly on her pedes again in rage, not for herself, but for Jazz's smudged honor, "You take that back!" First Aid blinked at her in surprise as Starwish stood to her full, though unimpressive, height and shouted angrily, "Jazz would never do that! He was simply apologizing for-" Now it was Starwish's turn to stumble over her words, she hadn't wanted anyone to know about her singing habits.
However, seeing First Aid's even more alarmed look as he undoubtedly thought of the worst possible endings to her sentence, Starwish steeled her nerve and finished, "I like to sing while I work when I'm alone, it helps me focus. Jazz told me that … that he's been listening in without my knowledge and apologized. I sort of overreacted because I'm really shy about others hearing me sing and he was telling me that he … that he liked my singing."
Starwish's voice had dwindled to a low tone and she crossed her arms defensively over her chest plates, "Then you two burst in and Ratchet dragged Jazz off."
First Aid's expression was one of extreme embarrassment, "Oh. Oh…"
Starwish felt her temper rise again, "Yes, 'oh'. You should feel ashamed of yourself jumping to conclusions like that about a respectable mech! Jazz would never try something like that and you know it!"
There was a sudden, shrill whistle from behind her, making Starwish whirl in surprise. A sizable pack of mechs, most of whom were unfamiliar to her, were standing in the medbay doorway. One mech stood out immediately to her, or rather, 'hung' out from his held up position between two other mechs. Blue optics twinkled at her as his lip components lifted into an easy smile, "Easy there, femme, don't offline the doc-bot before he can fix me."
There is no way… Starwish subtly placed First Aid between herself and the large group of strangers as she stared at the instantly recognizable form of Wheeljack, ace wrecker, swordsmech, good friend of Bulkhead and someone she had never truly expected to run in to on Cybertron. Wheeljack matched her stare boldly and then winked, causing a sarcastic little voice in Starwish's head to mutter, what am I thinking? Of course there is a way. Just like there's a way I'm on Cybertron as a femme who is currently being winked at by a character from a TV show. Pit. My life just got even weirder. Pity Bulkhead is on patrol, than I could distract Wheeljack with a reunion.
First Aid, becoming all business, scanned Wheeljack and motioned to the mechs supporting him, "Put him onto the berth over there. Are there any other injured? If so, onto the berths in an orderly fashion." Starwish hung back as First Aid dived fearlessly into the pack of mechs, scanning, asking questions, and generally behaving like a proper, compassionate medic. Cliffjumper helped Wheeljack onto a berth, revealing a sparking and twisted ankle strut.
"Starwish, I need you to help some of these less injured mechs while I tend to him." First Aid's voice broke her out of her shocked staring and she squeaked before hurrying to do as he told her. Picking a mech at random, she timidly skirted up to him and scanned him, allowing the information to wash over her processor so that her internal encyclopedia could sort it out and explain it to her.
The mech froze when he saw her approach for a few kliks before smiled brightly at her and chattering, "Hi there! My designation is Bluestreak. What's yours?"
Starwish carefully unsubspaced a welding tool and several energy clamps which she placed on the nearby tool stand. Selecting one of the clamps, she set to work on sealing the nicked energy lines leaking through the large gash in the newly dubbed Bluestreak's shoulder armor. Trying to hold back a queasy feeling in her tanks at the sight of spilled energon, she answered Bluestreak's question, "I'm Starwish. N-nice to meet you, Bluestreak."
Bluestreak, apparently oblivious to the wound in his shoulder, happily began to chatter away like an earth squirrel, "Nice to meet you! I haven't met too many femmes before, what with Megatron hunting them down and all, you're the fifth. Do you know Chromia? Ironhide's sparkmate? She was the one who taught me to shoot a sniper rifle since Ironhide is more of a cannon type and doesn't really like to shoot sniper rifles, which is strange because he has several really nice sniper rifles in his collection, not that there's anything wrong with not shooting sniper rifles, cannons work better in some situations and Ironhide's frame is too big to be a sniper anyway. Ironhide was the one who gave me my first rifle you know, he also gave one to Moonracer, another femme like you only taller, and we used to have shooting contests all the time down at the range. Well not all the time because we had to do work shifts like everyone else but-"
Starwish inwardly shook her helm at his chatter as she carefully finished soldering shut the damaged fluid lines and moved on to welding the shoulder shut just like Ratchet had taught her not too long ago and her medical encyclopedia advised. How can anyone talk so much? I mean, does he even notice that I'm busy patching his shoulder? Does he realize he could distract me?
Cliffjumper called from where he was lounging against the medbay wall, "Ease up Bluestreak, you're going to talk her audio receptor off."
Bluestreak quieted as another mech piped up curiously, "Nice assistant, Aid. Where'd you get her?"
Starwish felt her faceplates flush blue at the thought of being 'gotten'. He didn't mean it that way, he didn't mean it that way, just ignore him. In fact just ignore the fact that you are surrounded by strange, large mechs who probably haven't seen a femme in vorns. First Aid was stammering something, which Starwish did her best to ignore as she finished welding Bluestreak's shoulder and softly puffed on it with her vents to help cool the metal.
Straightening up, she noticed that Bluestreak had gone silent and was staring at her with huge optics. Trying not to be nervous at the intensity in his stare, she said, "Um, your self-repair protocols should take care of the rest…" Bluestreak just nodded slowly, his optics never leaving her face. Fidgeting nervously, she mumbled a goodbye to Bluestreak and scurried to the next mech.
This mech had a collection of deep scratches on his right leg that looked suspiciously like he'd gotten on the wrong end of a lawn mower. Looking around, she noted that most of the injured, although only having minor damage, all looked like they'd gotten into a fight with something sharp or someone carrying something sharp, "What happened to all of you?"
The mech with the scratched leg said cheerfully, "Oh this? This ain't nothin' femme, just got into a little 'discussion' with a pack of sword-swinging 'cons who didn't know to back down. Would've kept going to our destination if Wheeljack over there hadn't blown an ankle strut." Starwish nodded slowly, finally noting that several of the mechs were wearing blue colored Autobot symbols instead of the normal red ones. The symbols were shaped slightly differently as well. Are they Wreckers? Is that the Wrecker symbol?
Turning back to her newest patient, she commed worriedly, ::First Aid? When is Ratchet coming back?::
First Aid gave a sigh over the com, ::As soon as Prowl has finished detaining him for chasing Jazz in vehicle mode all over the base. Are you okay with this? These wounds aren't too difficult to manage are they? None of these mechs are in any real danger, I can handle them all myself if you want.::
Starwish gathered her resolve and moved to start welding the first gouge, ::No. I can handle this. I have to if I want to be a medic without activating my program.::
The mech she was patching up smiled at her, "Designation's Pyro, sweetspark." Starwish nodded in acknowledgement but didn't verbally answer, she was busy concentrating on her work and thus didn't note the significance of the term 'sweetspark'.
First Aid did, however, and said firmly, "Don't call her that, it is inappropriate."
Pyro snorted through his vents contemptuously, "Yeah? Who's gonna make me stop? I can call her any nickname I wan-" there was a loud 'clang' and Starwish jumped back with a yelp of surprise as a wrench whipped past her helm to collide with her patient's.
Ratchet's voice snarled terrifyingly from his position just entering the medbay, "You will address my medical assistants with the respect they deserve and you will not address a femling by the term of 'sweetspark' while in my medbay." Skewering all of the mechs present with a look that promised pain and suffering if they disagreed, he growled, "Am I clear?"
For a pack of tough, war-hardened mechs, Starwish thought that the chorus of 'yes sir's sounded very meek. Maybe Sides wasn't bluffing when he said that everyone in the army was afraid of 'The Hatchet'. Ratchet made his way over to her, "I'll handle this one, you fix that one over there."
Starwish decided that she wanted to be as far away as possible from anyone with the particular gleam in their optics as Ratchet did. Especially considering that Ratchet was equipped with sharp surgical tools. The look on Pyro's faceplates indicated that he was having similar thoughts, but his impending escape attempt was thwarted by another firm smack to the helm via Ratchet's wrench.
Skirting around Ratchet, she hurried over to the mech Ratchet had indicated and looked him over for injuries. The mech was, surprisingly, already fixing himself, barely glancing up at her to introduce himself before resuming patching his arm, "Salutations, my designation is Perceptor, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Medical Assistant Starwish. I am, as you can see, perfectly capable of performing the necessary procedure in order to restore the maximum operation of my damaged appendage. I would suggest administering to Blaster over there, instead."
Starwish blinked, mentally sorted through his words to make sure she understood them fully, and then nodded, "Okay… I'll go do that." Turning to the next berth over she was greeted by the sight of a large, smiling, red and yellow mech with some sort of square glass windshield on his chest that she couldn't see through.
The mech winked at her cheerfully as he held out a damaged servo and wrist joint, "Don't mind him, he always talks like thah. As he already stated, my designation is Blaster, nice ta meet cha." Starwish made a 'hmm' noise of cautious agreement, all the while wondering how so many mechs could suddenly come in with so many minor injuries and why several of them seemed to like winking at her. Although she could guess the reason to the last one.
After offering pain medication which Blaster politely turned down as unnecessary, Starwish pulled out a set of pliers and carefully began removing shrapnel from Blaster's servo, trying her best not to cause him discomfort through the procedure, "Did the Decepticons put up much of a fight? You don't seem to be that injured." She added hastily, "Which is, of course, a good thing! Just…"
Blaster chuckled, "We came across the Wreckers over there before the fight got serious and well … they're good at giving more damage than they take. Besides, our self repair protocols took care of most of the scratches on the way here-ouch!"
Starwish winced sympathetically, "Sorry. This one is buried fairly deep. How did you get so much shrapnel in your servo anyway?" There was a chiming sound as his chest plates suddenly opened and something shot out, startling Starwish into shouting an English expletive in alarm.
A mech no bigger than Zipline or Fast Track landed on the end of the medical berth and said sarcastically, "Oh, nothing much, he merely tried shoving a grenade down a 'con's throat tubing and got his servo stuck when the glitch bit it."
Blaster looked offended, "Hey! I got my servo free didn't I? Plus, it worked, that heavy tanker mech was fried."
The mini-mech snorted at Blaster, "Sure you got it free, after screaming like a femling who just saw a glitch mouse." Turning to look at her, the little mech smiled and said, "No offense."
Starwish held a hand over her spark chamber, feeling it throb wildly at the shock of seeing a mech just jump out of another mech, "Um … none taken but, who are you and how did you do that just now?"
Blaster and the smaller mech looked surprised at her question at first, but then Blaster chortled, "Oh, right, you've probably never met a mini-cassette before. Not surprising because of their rarity. Mini-cassettes are small Cybertronians who help out a larger mech in certain operations. When not busy doing anythin', they reside in a Cassette-Hold in their Guardian's chest plates. Anyway, Med Assistant Starwish, this is Eject, one of my mini-cassettes. Eject, this is Medical Assistant Starwish, say hello."
Eject plopped his little skid plates firmly in Blaster's lap and said, "Hi, what was that word you said when I first came out?"
Starwish, painfully aware that she had an audience of strange mechs and, more importantly, a suspicious Ratchet, said, "N-nothing. It's something I used to hear when the mechs of the neighborhood were surprised. I wouldn't try repeating it though, it might get you in trouble in some places."
Eject cocked his helm to one side, interested, "Really? What's it mean?"
Starwish hastily went back to working on Blaster's servo and wrist, not going to say it in front of Ratchet. "Nu-uh, not going there."
Eject's voice had an amused tinge, "It's a curse word ain't it?"
Starwish shook her head and jerked a bit of shrapnel out of Blaster's servo a bit more roughly than necessary. Blaster got the hint even if Eject didn't, "Ow! Drop the subject, Eject, you're distracting her from my treatment."
Eject's innocent comment of, "But I thought you liked it when femmes were distracted around you, Blaster?" Sent most of the mechs nearby into gales of laughter, Ratchet into a fit of spluttering that might have been laughter, and Starwish into a blushing spell.
Blaster groaned and slapped his face plating with his undamaged servo, "Eject, no. Just … no. Don't ever … where did you even hear thah? Nevermind, just don't say it again."
Eject huffed through his vents, "Whatever. What're you doing here, Starwish? I thought Moonracer was the femme medic?"
Blaster resisted the urge to 'aw' at how adorably flustered the tiny femling was as she ducked her helm and resumed working on his servo, "Yes, well, I'm only in training. Moonracer is still the official medic of Elita's squad."
Blaster smiled, "Looks like you're doing just fine ta me. How long yah been training?"
Starwish shrugged as she finished patching up his servo and began to scan his wrist joint for defects, "Under Ratchet? A few metacycles. But I had some medical knowledge before that." Blaster blinked in surprise, she had just barely started and Ratchet was letting her fix other bots? Sure, she was only performing basic first aid, but still.
Blaster commented wonderingly, "Only a few metacycles? You must be a prodigy then."
Starwish smiled shyly as she carefully realigned the wires in Blaster's wrist, "I wouldn't say that… Ratchet's just that good of a teacher is all." Letting go of his wrist she said, "I think that should do it. Try it now."
Blaster carefully flexed his wrist, wiggling his fingers experimentally before smirking and declaring, "Good as knew! Nice work!" Starwish looked bashful at his praise, mumbling softly that she had other patients to see to as she stood up. Blaster watched her go more than a little mournfully, it was so rare to see an unmated femme these cycles, let alone be cared for by one.
Sensing his feelings over the departure of the femme, Eject asked innocently over their bond, "Why don't you just ask her to stay?"
Blaster sighed, "It isn't thah simple, Eject. Especially with the Hatchet nearby."
Eject frowned, "Why not? It isn't like the femme is his sparkling, you could ask to court her if you wanted."
Blaster shook his helm at Eject's naivety in the matters of femmes and medics, "Ratchet will treat her as such, even if she isn't his creation. He called her a femling remember? She hasn't reached her final frame yet, which makes her still too young to not have a guardian. Since she's working in the medbay, its a good guess thah either Ratchet is her guardian or someone close to him is. I can't ask unless I want my helm taken off."
Eject seemed to mull over this for awhile and Blaster sensed his bold mini-cassette consult with the others stored safely inside him for advice. Coming to a decision, Eject jumped off of the berth Blaster was still perched on, to the next one over. Easily repeating this performance and ignoring the disgruntled huffs of the mechs he scrambled over, Eject made his way over to where Starwish was raptly paying attention to Ratchet as he explained some medical fact or other while using an irritated Wrecker as an example.
Blaster frowned, "Eject, what are you doing?"
Eject ignored the mental prod and instead tapped Starwish's arm firmly. Starwish looked down at him and smiled indulgently, "Hello again. Is there something I can do for you?"
Eject nodded and said hopefully, "Yeah. Would you be Blaster's sparkmate, please? Us mini-cassettes can't always take care of him all the time and so we'd like you to help. He's a really nice mech and is very easy to get along with. What'd you say?" There was dead silence in the medbay as Starwish's cheek plating rapidly flushed with energon and Ratchet just stared at Eject in shock.
Taking advantage of the moments of shock, Blaster leapt to his pedes, snatched up Eject and ran for the door with a startled Eject under one arm. Evacuating the medbay hastily, he yelled at his cassettes over their bond, "Cassettes! Yah can't just walk up and ask a femme to bond with me!"
From inside his hold, Rosanna asked innocently, "Why not? You're likable, charming, you love music, you're strong enough to take care of her and she'd have five willing sparkling sitters when the time came."
Blaster, spluttering over what Rosanna had just said, had just made it halfway down the hall when an explosion of curses and laughter signaled Ratchet's snap from shock to rage and everyone else's amusement at Eject's statement. Blaster continued running wildly down the hall, consulting the base schematics Prowl had sent him earlier in order to find the brig. Maybe if he got there in time he would be spared 'wrench-therapy', "Because Ratchet will think I told you to do it for me! Besides, you don't just sparkmate with tha first femme you see! There's protocol! Courting! Getting permission from her Guardian! You don't just up and ask!
It wasn't until after he had shot into the brig, launched himself into a cell and manually locked the door behind him that he realized he wasn't the only one there. From the cell across from his, Jazz smiled and waved, "Blaster! Mah main mech! What's got yah running for your spark this time?"
Blaster huffed a few times before holding up a sheepish looking Eject, "This glitch. He walked up an' asked Hatchet's femme assistant to bond with me."
Jazz raised an optic ridge, "Oh. Yah shouldn't have done that. He's a touch overprotective about Starwish."
Blaster glowered, "You too?"
Jazz nodded, "Yep."
Blaster cocked his helm to one side, "How long ago?"
Jazz stretched lazily on the cell cot, "Almost a half a joor now I think. Figure in anotha three joors it'll be safe ta leave."
Blaster sighed and settled down miserably, "He's that overprotective?"
Jazz twisted slightly so that Blaster could see the singe mark on his shoulder plate, "He came in an thought Ah was trying ta kiss her. Besides, her Guardian is Ultra Magnus and he would probably slap me in tha brig for inappropriate conduct anyway. Might as well serve my time an' get it over with."
Blaster's optics widened, then narrowed irritably as he settled in for a long wait. Great, first cycle on Algol base and I'm gonna have to spend it in the brig for fear of a rampaging medic and the fragging Autobot Second in Command. With a sigh, Blaster asked, "Any new music sticks?"
Jazz's optics lit up, "As a matter o' fact, Ah got something better. But yah gotta promise not ta tell anybot else about it. Yah and your cassettes, got it?" Blaster nodded his consent to total secrecy, privately wondering what could be so wonderful that Jazz would be so possessive about it. Jazz smiled, "Jus' listen ta this!"
Jazz's speakers activated and both Blaster and Eject froze as soft femme vocalizations drifted out mournfully in an alien melody. Blaster shifted as close to the cell bars as he dared, listening to the strange sounds in awe. After nearly a breem, he whispered tentatively, "What is that?"
Jazz smiled strangely, almost like he'd become overcharged just by listening to the strange sounds, "That, mah dear Blaster, is the sound of Starwish singing."
Blaster sat back, optics wide and unseeing as another recording of the 'singing' drifted through the brig.
From inside his chest compartments, the other mini-cassettes listened in via their bond with Eject. Rosanna purred happily and projected to her brothers, "Mechs? I think we just found the perfect sparkmate for Blaster."
Steeljaw replied smugly, "Definitely."
On the outside, Eject smiled secretively, "Let Operation: Femme Spark begin."
Cybertronian Time Terms:
Nano-klik: Cybertronian equivalent of a mili-second or half-second.
Klik: Cybertronian equivalent of a second.
Breem: Cybertronian equivalent of a minute.
Joor: Cybertronian equivalent of an hour.
Cycle/lunar cycle: Cybertronian equivalent of day or night.
Metacycle: Cybertronian equivalent of a week.
Orn: Cybertronian equivalent of a month.
Vorn: Cybertronian equivalent of a year.
Megacycle: Cybertronian equivalent of a century or eon.