Ratchet heard the med bay door chime, his annoyance clear where no bot could see. His side office functioned as a place to work on private records while monitoring patients and helping him keep his professionalism. Many knew his gruff side or iron resolution in repairing them, very few ever seeing or knowing the brokenness of his spark when any offlined, his advanced skills unable to work another miracle. Schooling his face in a properly serious look the aged medic rose, the work station monitor automatically locking the screen until his return. "Who the frag did what this time of night? Half the base is on an away mission and all others should be recharging,' he grumbled, stepping out into the main treatment area.
"I'm sorry, were you busy?" Solspark stood just inside the door, her frame turned towards the doors as if to flee.
"Finishing routine updates. How may I assist?" Ratchet smiled, full charm. A former politician, he poured the non-threatening protocols on as he moved to stand by a general exam berth. The very sight of her a surprise and a trigger to warning protocols on his behavior let he scare her off.
"I am having some minor program issues. Unlocked archived files that are clashing with modern ones," She explained, looking anywhere but at him. The blue and silver armored femme turned towards him and not the doors, moving a few steps closer.
He nodded, keeping his energy fields tight and calm. His optics were another matter, spinning rapidly and focused entirely on her. "Patterns frizzy to pit and minor my aft! How long has she been suffering with this? Slagging Jazz knows better, can't tell me he couldn't see this and bring her here. Is the romance over already?"
"I am unsure how to resolve the issue and needed advice," Solspark finally looked at him, more a student asking a teacher than for medical care, but it was enough.
"How long unarchived? And define clashing as you take a seat here please," Ratchet gestured to the berth, lowering it down to be a comfortable height for a bot her size to sit on. He reached back, pulling out a rolling stool from under a work cabinet. The others teased him about copying humans until he showed them a pic from his intern days. His first surgical instructor had been injured in a shuttle crash and used a rolling stool to keep working as his frame was rebuilt. Ratchet found it useful, and fun around the femmes he wanted to chase after hours in the practice bays. Now it lowered his height, making him less intimidating to the one femme who needed to trust him more.
She approached like a scared youngling, hesitant in her steps and watching him closely and checking for any equipment around the table area before sitting down.
::Moonie, I need you in med bay:: Ratchet sent on an encrypted beam, hoping Solspark's nervousness meant she was focused on herself and would not intercept his signal.
:You always need me my mate. And want me. On my way. Why?:: Moonracer answered, her tone curious.
::Solspark is here alone and I want a femme in the room to reassure:: Ratchet
::Scrap. If she is asking for help with Jazz gone it's bad. Transforming in the outer hallway now:: Moonracer
::Jazz is gone where? And why?:: Ratchet sent back, externally calm as Solspark answered his questions on when the programs had been unarchived and why.
::He is on a long-range mission tracking Con activity. Left two days ago per orders. Optimus asked Elita and I to keep a check on Solspark without explaining why. He must have known something was up from Jazz. Slag both those mechs! Elita is dealing with Firestar breaking curfew again but can be here shortly if needed:: Moonracer explained.
"The conflicts are not resetting during recharge and I cannot archive the affected data grids. I need help," Solspark finished explaining, the earnest look in her optics tugging at his detached mannerisms.
"May I access internal logs?" Ratchet offered, predicting she would refuse.
"Sending now."
Surprised, he waited for the files before hiding a wince as they opened. The jumble of archive types, dates and data threatened to overwhelm for a nano second until his enhanced systems processed it down. The gaps as he suspected were not altered but erased, causing part of the problem. And not by her. Anger rose as he identified Alpha Trion's imprint matching the same data gaps and signature files Optimus carried after being rebuilt into Prime. 'Bet Trion never asked her anymore than he did Orion before changing frame and systems. Played Primus for his own ends never processing their long-term effects. Needing Primes to lead and butchering their insides without permission is no better than Megatron enslaving mechs into combiner teams.'
Moonracer arrived, reassuring Solspark she was there to see her mate but would stay if the other femme didn't mind the company.
COMMAND CALL. OPTIMUS PRIME. TEAM TWO ATTACKED. WOUNDED INBOUND ON SILVERBOLT AND SKYFIRE. FULL TRIAGE MEDICAL ALERT. INCOMING WOUNDED.
Med bay alarms activated triggering tool cabinets to unlock and roll towards their berths in an assigned choreography. Ratchet and Moonracer swore, lunging for consoles and activating programs. Solspark jumped, the berth under her rising and unlocking drawers with repair tools underneath. Colors flashed on the medical berth sides designating each for basic, triage or advanced surgical repair to indicate the equipment accessible as attachments unfolded and rose into place.
"I can handle these three berths, basic to stabilizing. Permission to unlock full Richter protocols?" Solspark moved into position across the room and began laying out tools, hard venting the moment she realized what she had just done. What she had admitted with a single sentence to the one mech who would accept no excuse.
"Permission granted," Ratchet replied, sending his official approval as CMO as he throttled his shock down. The Richter approval allowing her not only full access into his medical files but complete authority to repair or change any setting on any bot. And the echo required from her on everything she did, a system access into her. Access only the higher level medics shared where their processors could literally merge as one for a procedure, his experience through her hands and vice versa.
Solspark hesitated, afraid to reveal her level of skills and open herself to him. 'Scrap. No more racing away from problems.' The echo returned, giving Ratchet her code key. The faintest ping rippled through her as he activated it, a soft presence if needed. He didn't overwhelm as a field surgeon had once done, dominating any working medic nor did Ratchet immediately try to override her and micro manage possible outcomes.
The med bay doors opened with First Aid and Hoist bringing in the survivors. Energon flowed across the tables out of the jagged wounds of their patients, main systems crashing as the medics fought to keep Cybertronian sparks flaring with Ratchet handling the most critical. Wounded mechs surprised at Solspark's presence relaxed as her hands skillfully repaired or adjusted injuries, their pain eased the foremost of her concerns after system functioning.
"Slaggin 'Cons! Scraped his outer spires, cracking a core side," Ratchet swore softly, shifting his morphic tool to a laser cutter. Skids lay on the surgical table, his chest armor ripped apart with long rents across his spark casing that could only be from Starscream. The mech's hand hung off the table, limp and charred without movement when it should have been twitching with pain.
Flowing swiftly through the Richter link, Solspark's presence wrapped around Ratchet's for a nano second. ::Better way:: The image of the damage undone with adding an overlay for spark steadying, using other spires sideways to reinforce over the gap. Removal and change out of damaged parts later after the spark settled, the new spires immediately accepted and steadying even if sideways. Echoes of countless battlefield repairs of it working flowed. Ratchet acknowledged, shifting his morphic tool to a mini welder as his spark felt pain at the injuries portrayed. Pain for those who had suffered such cruelty as deliberate spark mangling and her repairing so many. Her presence comforted accepting his pain and leaving the link, the echo of her understanding why he felt the way he did.
"Solspark's records never indicated she had a Richter link or experience in spark level repairs, only basics to stabilize in retrieval," Ratchet grumbled near sunrise, the situation contained.
"Name any medic on the battlefield that doesn't have more experience than a record documents," Moonracer reminded, long use to her mate's frustration after battle repairs. Standing behind him she let the strength of her spark reach for his, a reassurance of life and her love for him.
"True. You learn or lose your patients. And I never want to lose you Moonie. Why you choose to stay with a grumpy old rust bot is beyond me," he stated, settling back against her. His office a temporary retreat from the full berths and tracking monitors.
"That would be Ironhide and he is Chromia's problem. I have a stubborn hot mech with skilled hands," she crooned, rubbing helms with him.
"These hands cannot save every spark."
"But they try, and we lost no bot today. Thanks to you and Solspark. She asked for help and stayed to save others," Chromia noted. Her gaze settled on the far wall where the blue and silver femme recharged draped over a medical cabinet, literally dropping off with exhaustion where she had sat.
"I should add her to the wounded list and keep her."
"Would that benefit her the most old friend?" Optimus challenged softly, stepping out of the hidden hallway and over the cabinet braced there.
"No. Which is why I called for you. I will upload a sorting program for her relays, the Richter link is still open. If she is not reset by at least sixty percent the command override will force her back here. For now, the patient needs to recharge where she feels safe," Ratchet admitted, shying away from the fact every berth in med bay already full of recovering mechs, several in deep stasis and critical.
"Understood." The ancient Prime picked Solspark up into his arms as tenderly as he would have his own Elita One, carrying her through the hidden passage back to his office. His Matrix flared, warming as it recognized the other device's proximity.
::All clear. I will meet you outside the quarters and take her inside myself:: Prowl sent.
::Don't trust me to not get lost?:: Optimus teased back, his blue optics focusing on the shape in his arms. Smaller and more fragile looking than his Elita One he felt sympathy and a little envy. His exhaustion post battle beat on him. 'No bot to carry me to recharge,' he processed, a pile of endless records and responsibilities waiting for him as Prime and leader.
::Trust you? Yes. The chaos that is Jazz's possessions in their quarters? No. I am still calculating the most advantageous course through with minimum disruption. My wing doors pulled tight should clear:: Prowl answered.
Optimus chuckled, the mirth moving his frame. ::Perhaps Ultra Magnus should pay his former soldier a visit. Let him accidentally rearrange part of the room::
::A Prime processing? Solspark listed Grimlock as her emergency backup:: Prowl admitted, pondering the correlation with the name, an utter bafflement when she had first listed the Dinobot.
::With the Dinobots obsession of protecting the femmes that is not a bad processing. I'm here:: Optimus countered, transferring Solspark to Prowl's arms.
Solspark pulled out of recharge, disorientated to time and space as systems lagged. A single energy signature identified as friendly though muted nearby allowing her time to focus. Snapping up with active Operations level coding, the memories of med bay returned. She recognized their shared room, the mural plates stacked against the far wall, waiting on the finishing of their quarters remodel. The recharge door opened, the fact it was closed for once not even registering as the most unlikely mech stepped through.
"Bumblebee?"
"Hi. Jazz is fine, the wounded are recovering, and I needed to ask you a question but didn't want to disturb you recharging. I waited in the main room," he stated, guessing what she would want to know. The yellow armored mini bot clasped his hands together before moving closer.
"I would not have blasted you," she vented, reassuring.
"It's okay if you did. I know you have recharge issues. I understand. After my capture at Tyger Pax I started having them too." The young scout looked up at her, scuffing one footpad across the carpet like the youngling he resembled.
Solspark gazed back, every system locked tight least he detect anything of her unease with the mention of Tyger Pax. "I heard what happened. You have every right to have post event issues."
"Prime and I with Ironhide's help have tried processing the memories. I cannot face them all, but I do remember the shuttle evac," he admitted, his tone soft. His frame trembled, the energy signature warping in his distress. "I know you were the femme. The medical tech without a left arm, other armor bent. You saved me."
"No, Ratchet saved you," she corrected. "I was on the team to rescue you and the others. I got injured during the raid and was shipped back on the same mini shuttle "
"Ratchet saved Skids but you helped there too. I processed you familiar the first time we met, but never cross referenced those files. Then it clicked with this last night's repair notes. Sideways spires added to make a temporary spark framework." His blue optics locked on hers, his expression a mix of pain and earnestness triggering her femme protocols.
"How did? You hacked Ratchet's medical records!" She realized, stuttering at the impossible and knowing Ratchet would offline any bot he caught in his domain.
"Skids is one of us, like you. I monitor all our team and I learned a lot of medical recovering. But mini bots are not allowed to be medics, our size differentials. That's why the big medic left me to die. You didn't."
Solspark vented deeply, no longer denying the past. "Yes, I remember Sandblocker. He was a leader class senior medic, always pushing his beliefs on other medical staff and tying to overwhelm us with his knowledge. That's why he personally led the shuttle teams, to save the worse of the prisoners and evacuate out the quickest. He triage tagged you as not worth saving because of the severity of your injuries and being a mini bot. I was taught and still believe every spark is worth saving and our external shell is a shell. Who and what we are is in our spark. Yours still flared, pulsing inside mangled or missing spires. I knew how to stabilize your spark and I did. Ratchet took over when we connected to the main transport and his work saved you. I am so sorry you suffered."
"The records state they used a portable sparkling containment case to hold my spark stable for repairs. Literally placed it over my spark to protect then added a new spire base underneath. The base triage medic listed the sideways spires as part of the procedures before Ratchet transferred me to Iacon to recover. For once being small was useful."
"Your spark is as pure and large as Optimus," Solspark encouraged, feeling his energy signature stabilize. Both had trauma and survived it, understanding what could never be explained fully in words to another.
"Thank you. I need to recharge soon. And you should rest some more. Hopefully the nightmares will stay away."
Chromia entered the outer room, angling carefully to avoid knocking over any of the piles of items everywhere. Skilled feet moved across the floor as agile as any dancer as she leaned in to check the recharge room.
::Hide, you got to see this:: Chromia chuckled, sending him the pic.
::Is that?:: Ironhide sputtered back, his signal strong from the med bay.
::Solspark with Bumblebee held in her arms while they recharge? Yes. Has he been having flashbacks again?:: Chromia sent, leaving two energon cubes on the floor by the door, no where else in the room to set them before exiting.
::Ain't slagging mentioned it. He'll check on me to make sure Ratch ain't torturing me while stuck here. Quiz him then. Check with Prime later if he knows.:: Ironhide
::Did you leave the door open or he follow you home and you decide to keep him?:: Jazz's voice prodded her to awareness.
:::Jazz? You're back!:: Solspark's optics flashed open, seeing him standing near the berth, a frown on his face as he gazed at them. Then it registered. Gazed at them. Not at her but her and a mech recharging on her berth. The other cuddled in her arms instead of her challenge sworn mate to be. ::This is not what you process!::
His visor flipped up, his bright enhanced optics scanning them both. ::Easy Sols. I know you ain't going to cheat on me. Not the type any more than I am. What concerns me is Bee having processor issues again. We need him functional or Optimus and Ironhide glitch and that dings all of us.::
Bumblebee must have felt the scan, pulling out of recharge to see his boss standing there visor up. "Not what you process!" He began explaining, pulling away from Solspark.
The visor snapped down, Jazz's expression neutral. "I process my best scout is guarding my femme after a Decepticon raid to ensure her safety until my return?"
"Yes sir!" Bumblebee snapped to his feet, more falling off the higher berth height to land on his feet pads.
"See Ironhide in med bay. He needs guarding but be warned he vents heavy from both ends. If you want to snuggle with him," Jazz teased, watching the yellow armored mech practically flee the room.
"TMI!" Solspark giggled, moving to stand. Her movements were cautious not sure how Jazz would react when they were alone.
"Can't leave you for a breem sweet spark and you create chaos," he vented, smiling at her.
"Chaos?" An optic arch rose.
"My mission ended early, tracked the raid that hit our folks. Rolling back I get comm messages from bots that you are working in med bay, thanking me for their repairs. A message from Ratchet peeling my paint for not helping you sooner. Prowl wanting more record updates to your training files post conversation with Ratchet and Optimus thanking me for warning the Cons were inbound to their research location even if I could not stop the attack," he paused, laying his hands on her shoulders and touching helms with her.
"I had to help. Too many were hurting, and I couldn't roll away," she admitted, leaning into his touch.
"Wouldn't have it any other way. I need repairs, those hands of yours ready for me?" Jazz asked.
"More than my hands are ready," she answered shifting to a medical mode. Jazz's engine revving and his smirk catching her attention. "Uh, that did not come out right. That is, oh frag."
"Fragging works if you are sure sweet spark," he suggested before jumping up on the berth. "But I have to wait for medical clearance. Cracked a leg strut with blown cogs."
"What did you kick?" Solspark grumbled, ignoring his teasing being too embarrassed to answer and focused on repairs.
"I ricocheted off a wall actually. Turned the force into a spin move and shot back at the target."
Her optics narrowed, her gentle hands inspecting the twisted leg and probing deeper underneath the armor for damage. "Translated you were thrown, probably by a seeker with that claw damage and flipped back to attack mech of mine. I can fix but you'll be down for several joors."
"Better here with you than med bay. Ratchet is full up and not too happy with me right now. Challenge."
"Challenge back at you chaos lover and when do I get to go on a field mission?" Solspark asked, an innocent tone to her question. It had the effect she calculated, his focus on answering as she jerked out a ragged power line.
"Ow!"
"Hurt worse with it sparking next to that secondary energon line if it made contact. Power base is solid and won't need replacing. Need to strip your armor off and get in tight. Oh for Primus sake! Would you get your processer focused on repairs?" Solspark admonished, his smirk and engine revving distracting.
"If I'm the one off processor how did you know what I meant?"
"Ok, got me on that one. "
To be continued…
Author's Notes: Thanks for reading and any reviews. No one exists alone in the universe, no matter how Solspark might feel or hide. And fate / destiny / or coincidence occurs, and people realize they have crossed paths before. Let me know if people are enjoying the story or are we way off track. Is there anything to expand readers want to see? Medical, ancient Cybertronian history, the fan clubs or fic stuff, Matrix powers and changes, more Wreckers, Ops training? All coming but chapter by chapter. Until all are one.