The Diego Diaries: Boom Goes The Dynamite (dd6 618)
=0=Morning in the colony
The streets were waking up as the colony began to stir from slumber. Though many were the places you could go that were all night and day establishments, most of the streets of the cities were clear this time of orn. Delivery trucks and those coming or going to shift work drove on the mostly empty streets as the lights here and there began to go off. Light meters that guided them registered a growing but weak early morning sunrise.
Walking to the Med Center, Ratchet entered the lobby which had a few individuals waiting or working, then took the elevator up to the floor where Pulsar was kept in secured care. It was oddly muffled, the silence in the elevator. It was the calm before the storm, early enough to be quiet yet not completely dead. Walking out, he went to the end of the long corridor that led from the elevator and entered the secured area.
"Hello, Mulie," he said to the specialist orderly that ran the graveyard shift here. There were others on call including intervention teams elsewhere but he was the first wall one had to climb to go further.
"Hi, Ratchet," he said as he looked up from the game he was playing on the computer. "I heard about the new murder. Fragged thing."
"It is. How was the patient overnight?" Ratchet asked as he looked at pair of charts that detailed Pulsar and another patient, Seevo. "Both of them, actually."
"Pulsar was fine. He's under mild sedation. Seevo is in and out of orbit if you know what I mean," Mulie said. "I hope this works for him, the slagger. What's the prognosis if I may ask."
"You can," Ratchet said with a grin. "He's lost nearly all his memories. He had bad circuits, damage from fighting, the usual. It boggles how many Decepticons that come through here with mashed processors. Fragging Decepticons. They should have had doctors all along that were worth something. If Seevo didn't have family here, I'd have him in storage. When he comes out, we can see if he's still that raving lunatic stalker from Special Segregation at the prison or someone who can learn to be normal again."
"Let me know. He was one crazy bastard when he came in here," Mulie said as he worked the protocols to let Ratchet go inside. "You're clear. My replacement comes in a few minutes. I'll let him know you're here. I probably won't be when you come out."
"Got it," Ratchet said with a grin as he took both data pads with him. "Take care."
"You, too," Mulie said as he returned to his game. In half a breem his replacement would arrive and he could go home. All in all, a great shift.
Ratchet entered the first room after entering the code. It was dark but he could see Seevo easily. He'd been brought in under a condemnation protocol because he was slipping away. They'd studied his processor and other parts of his neural network and found that he was going to die if they didn't do salvage work on him.
It was similar to Starscream, the damage that had been done and by the time the 14 hour operation was complete, Seevo had lost 73% of his memories. What was left would tell the tale of what would happen to him once he'd recovered enough to reboot.
Ratchet checked the data, then stared at the mech laying silently on the med berth under heavy restraint. "You're one sad fragger, Seevo. I wish it had never happened, the war. You deserved better than this, maybe. I don't know what kind of idiot you were before the slag happened but your amma and appa want you back somehow. We have to do that for you and for them." He squeezed Seevo's servo, then walked out, crossed the hall and entered the room where Pulsar lay under restraint.
He'd been slumbering but rebooted when he felt movement. Obviously, the sedation didn't affect his specialist programming. His optics opened as he glanced around for someone or something. Focusing on Ratchet, his expression folded into rage. "What do you want, fragger?"
"I came to see if you were still alive," Ratchet said. "Zee Supreme really squeezed you hard."
"I would have rebounded," Pulsar said.
"I know. That's why you have no arms and legs. We have a nice collection of phase six enabled and phase six confirmed in our collection. What's one more?" Ratchet asked with a dazzling smile.
Pulsar stared at him a moment. "What happens now?"
"Depends upon Prime. I wouldn't count on getting limbs again until we denature your condition. If you were just another mech, you'd be in the prison as just another number. However, you just HAD to GO and DO this. You see our position. It's not personal. Much."
"You're on my list. Mark my words. I will turn this around," Pulsar said as Ratchet checked his lines.
"I know. Everyone of my mechs says so. Given that you're an engineer, I suppose you can McGyver something and that's why we're having a meeting about what to do about you today. I'll let you know how it goes," Ratchet said as he walked toward the door. It was amazing the amount of verbal abuse Pulsar sent with him.
=0=In a tower in Iacon
"When will you be back?"
"I'll come back as soon as I can, Springer. I have to be at the meeting. Do you want me to open a channel so you can listen or do you want to be there on a monitor?" Drift asked as he gathered up his weapons.
Breakfast dishes lay in the sink, the box of work was still sitting on the table untouched and things were sad everywhere he looked because 1) Springer wasn't going to be coming and 2) he hated to see his bond sad. He slipped his swords into their rightful places on his back, then turned to Springer.
That mech was standing in the middle of the living room looking pitiful. He was depressed looking and sort of sagged. Walking toward him, Drift rested his servos gently on Springer's broad shoulders. "I'll bring a snack later, your favorite. I have to go to the office and check on the Night shift, the business for Day and the progress of the investigation. We also have to interview the slaggers. I'll try to be in and out."
Springer frowned deeper. "This is fragged. You're supposed to be the side kick. I'm the hero and you're the good looking and slightly slutty side kick."
Drift smirked. "I know. Fragged, isn't it?"
Springer hugged him close. "I don't like hanging around without you to fetch me a beer when I need it. Or to do most of the work … to put the dishes in the washer … to make the berth up and … frag."
Drift laughed, then hugged him tightly. "How about you be me and I'll be you. I realize you do it better but I'll try."
Springer stared at Drift, at the improbable center of everything that was good in his life, then grinned. "Well, we do have our little ways."
Drift chuckled, then kissed Springer. "We do. Let me go and do this, then I'll be back with something good. Come to the meeting on the monitor. I don't like doing slag without you either."
Springer frowned, then watched as Drift walked to the door.
The big mech paused, then looked at Springer. "You know … when you said you couldn't move, I think my spark almost stopped. Get well like Ada says. Nothing will be fun again until you do. I'll be back."
Springer nodded, then watched as the big mech walked out. The door closed slowly. He vented a sigh, then stared around the apartment. "Frag," he muttered as he did. All the warmth in the room left with Drift.
=0=Ops Center, The Fortress, Autobot City, Primal Colony of Mars, Cybertron and the Empire, Postal District 1
They gathered, the new and old, femme, mech and human. The heads of the habitats were there as usual including Owen Harris and Morshower from Virginia concerning the murder. The humans gathered on the table top, some taking their seats while others stood around it chatting with the bots.
Prowl walked in with data pads, handing them out as he walked to his usual place at the table. Prime was behind him, a tower behemoth of grace and beauty. All around the vast room sitting comfortably in their usual places were mini-cons (Leader 1, Neo and Laret), soldiers, Seekers, titanic frames, civilians, scientists, three youngling mechs who were 'interns' for the school year learning about how government and business worked, priests, Heatout and his assistant, Cyclonus and a senior member of his team, all of the district commanders of Cybertron, the far flung bases and last but not least, Ratchet who walked in just as everyone turned their attention to Prime and Prowl. He sat, grinned, then slipped his arm around Ironhide's broad shoulders.
"Well then, let's begin. We're holding old business until we have more time. All of the initiatives presented by the humans are being studied by relevant members of our community for viability and recommendation so don't take that as a delay," Prowl said. He glanced at Ratchet. "What's the word, Ratchet?"
"Well, I visited two patients in the high security wing of Femme. Seevo who is a severely mentally ill Decepticon ship boarding specialist who was held in special containment at the Prison began to decompensate so we condemned him and brought him in for evaluation. He had severe damage to his processor and we had to rewire and replace most of it. I'm hoping that this along with his family who incidentally are here and just found out about him when it was mentioned on the news will be enough to render him a good life. Being a cold blooded murderer and stalker isn't a good life for anyone.
"Pulsar is awake and growling. He's in good condition considering what we did to help him. We left some things unrepaired because we want to study the recovery time of phase six mechanisms through their personal recovery systems. He's well on his way. He won't, however, be able to grow arms and legs. He's very unhappy and made sure that I knew it on the way out." Ratchet smiled beautifully as everyone chuckled.
"Fragger. He's lucky to be alive," Ironhide said.
"When can we squeeze him? I want to know why his ship just gave it up. He'd never allow his ships or equipment to go to blazes like that," Blackjack the Elder said. "I knew him and his crazy family. They were engineers and fanatically devoted to good maintenance on their gear."
"Me as well," Prime said. "We can talk to him when you give us leave, Ratchet."
Ratchet nodded. "Done deal."
"Anything more?" Prowl asked.
"Those who are bad are still bad. Those who are good are getting better. Our 17 casualties are as well. What about Springer?" Ratchet said as he looked down the table at Drift who sat in his usual place by himself, the seat next to him empty.
"I'm here," a voice said.
Everyone looked at the monitor nearby. Springer's glum face appeared there.
"Well, looky that," Sun said with a grin. "You're housekeeping leaves a bit to be desired, grandson."
Springer looked over his shoulder, then back to the group. "Well, the housekeeper had to go to the meeting and I'm stuck here. ALONE! WITH ALL THE WORK!"
"Well, aren't you a little ray of sunshine," Ratchet said with a chuckle. "You should be down on your knees that you got a nice good natured bond like my other son here, What's His Name."
Everyone laughed and even Springer smirked. "Yeah. Don't forget the donuts, Drift."
Drift grinned, then nodded.
"Ah, young love," Sun said as he glanced at Hard Drive and Jack. "Sickening isn't it."
"I wouldn't know. I'm so lonely," Jack said to great laughter all around.
Ratchet leaned forward on his elbows. "I can fix that, Jack, with these servos," he said raising his big red hands. "These holy serv-"
"OLD MECH!"
=0=TBC 3-21-19 edited 4-6-19
HAPPY FIRST DAY OF SPRING TO EVERYONE UP ON THE TOP AND HAPPY FIRST DAY OF AUTUMN TO THOSE DOWN BELOW!
ESL: McGyver: a show in the 19? that had a man named McGyver who could get out of anything by creating a bazooka out of match sticks and silly putty. To do a McGyver is to do the same thing. Its a verb now. :D