Greetings! So sorry for the long delay. Thank you, everyone, that sent me reviews and personal messages wondering where I'd wandered off to. I'm so glad to finally be able to give this belated Christmas gift to everyone before the new year.
Chapter Thirty: A Second Opinion
Starfall was dead weight in Optimus's arms. His battered frame limply rested against the front of his father's chest. His helm was nestled tightly underneath Optimus's chin. Soft, slow puffs of air vented against Optimus's throat cables every half klick, reassuring Optimus again and again that his son was recharging comfortably – at least for the moment.
It was early morning the orn after Ratchet called them to tell them of Starfall's return. The night had been long and stressful. Despite all the painkillers Ratchet gave him, nothing seemed able to prevent Starfall from waking up every few joors in severe pain. Optimus and Ironhide had spent the majority of the day and night passing Starfall back and forth between them in order to give the other a chance to hold their son. Both were reluctant to relinquish possession of their son, let alone let him out of their sight. Holding him upright seemed to be the only thing that did anything to help ease the pain of his shredded back. Ratchet's painkillers only seemed to make Starfall groggy, forcing Optimus and Ironhide to try and calm Starfall as best they could until Starfall finally – mercifully - drift into fitful recharge. And even then, the somniferous qualities of Ratchet's anesthetics barely lasted more than a few joors before Starfall would wake up again whimpering in a drugged daze.
Cradling his son's battered frame to his windshield in the quiet of Starfall's hospital room, Optimus felt a spark-deep exhaustion he hadn't felt since the darkest days of the Great War. It was weariness that did not stem from physical fatigue or low energy, but rather intense helplessness. Every whimper Starfall made when he reemerged from the foggy embrace of Ratchet's painkillers was like physical stabs to Optimus's spark. Optimus could see the same helplessness in Ironhide's optics every time keening, half-conscious moans began to build in the back of their son's throat line. Short of having one's child die, Optimus could think of no worse hell for a parent to suffer than to see his child in pain and be impotent to do anything to stop it. If it were possible, he would have taken all his son's pain onto himself if only it would give Starfall a few joors of painless rest. The only thing Optimus could do in the face of such agonizing helplessness was gently hug his son closer and whisper that everything was going to be alright.
The bandages wrapped across Starfall's back were spotted with circles of wet purple. Ratchet was going to have to change them soon. The thought made Optimus's fuel tank churn. The evening before, Ratchet had had to change Starfall's dressings. Ironhide had held Starfall as Ratchet gently peeled the layers of oozing bio-metallic mesh from Starfall's back to replace them with new ones. Optimus had seen his fair share of gore and wounds over the course of the Great War, but even the horrors of war hadn't been enough to prepare him for the sight of his son's mutilated back. Two jagged holes of knotted weld marks were all that remained of Starfall's wings. Ratchet had had to remove what little remained of them the day before. Seeing such horrific wounds made Optimus wonder if even a Vosian medic would be able to restore his son's ability to fly.
"Yeh, okay?" Ironhide's voice brought Optimus out of his thoughts. His sparkmate sat next to him in a second chair Ratchet had dragged into Starfall's room the night before. The older mech looked just as exhausted as Optimus felt. Circles of light grey protomatter ringed his optics. Neither of them had gotten much recharge the night before between them alternatively holding Starfall and anxiously trying to soothe his cries whenever he began to wake. Not to mention the hospital's visitor chairs. No matter how padded they were, they weren't very comfortable after sitting in them for several joors. Optimus's back and shoulder struts ached horribly.
"Yeh want me ta hold Star fer awhile?" Ironhide offered.
"No. I'm fine," Optimus shook his head. He carefully shifted Starfall so that Starfall's weight rested more on his other arm. The little seeker murmured in his sleep but did not stir anymore. Optimus vented a tired sigh of relief.
Ironhide leaned towards his sparkmate. He anxiously studied their son's face. Seemingly satisfied that Starfall wasn't about to wake, he leaned back in his chair with an exhausted sigh. Weary silence once more fell over the room like a wet blanket.
Optimus's optics drifted towards the small tele-consol mounted in the corner of the room. It was currently tuned to Iacon's main newsfeed channel. The sound had been muted so it wouldn't disturb Starfall. Closed captions ran along the bottom of the screen so Optimus and Ironhide could read what was being said. News of Starfall's abduction was top story for all the newsfeed channels. In fact, it seemed to be the only story people were talking about, especially after Iacon General Hospital made the public announcement of Starfall's resuscitation.
In less than two orns, the entire social makeup of their culture seemed to have been turned on end. Crosshairs' kidnapping and torture of a child of minority modeling-specs seemed to have struck a cord in the population of not just Iacon. Organized minority groups were holding mass protests in the streets of several other city-states, claiming racial discrimination and demanding judicial retaliation against Crosshairs for targeting a child because of his frame-type. Minority models were not the only ones outraged by Starfall's attack. Since just that morning, Optimus had counted five different news segments with reporters interviewing creators of school-age children. The common theme among them was parents' fear for their children's safety. District 11's academy was one of the best schools in Iacon. If District 11's academy couldn't protect its students from kidnappers and psychopaths, what were the chances of lower district schools being able to?
Watching it all on the tele-consol, Optimus was almost glad he was sequestered in Starfall's hospital room. He had no desire to have to deal with the political hailstorm that was besieging their society. Optimus knew he was going to have to make a public appearance at some point – probably sometime later that orn or the next – but for right now his only concern was Starfall. Other senators and representatives of the High Council seemed to be dealing with the problem just fine by themselves. If Optimus didn't know better, he might have almost said that senators like Scion were actually enjoying the political chaos. Many of them probably saw it as an opportunity for them to show off their political prowess and win more constituents to their side before the next election. Scion had already seen a bump in his popularity numbers with his proposed legislation for harsher sentences for bots convicted of hate crimes.
A soft beep from the vid-com consol sounded.
With an internal command, Optimus contracted the sides of his battle mask over his mouth, then motioned with his chin for Ironhide to answer the call. Only several people had their hospital contact number. Ratchet's face filled the screen as Ironhide hit the button. He looked like he was calling from his private office somewhere else in the hospital. Optimus was slightly surprised. Ratchet wasn't scheduled to check in on Starfall for at least another joor.
"Optimus. Ironhide," Ratchet greeted in a hushed voice. His optics went to the sparkling in Optimus's arms, visually assessing him. "How's Starfall?"
"He's fine for the moment," Optimus whispered back. "Is something the matter?"
"No. I'm actually calling with good news. I was just informed by the hospital's medical dispatcher that that Vosian medic we're waiting on is ten klicks from Iacon's border. Her name's Lightningstrike. They've already given her and her escort team the coordinates for the hospital and told her to land on the roof's helipad. No need for her to have to deal with all the reporters out front. She should be arriving here in about thirty klicks."
"That is wonderful news," Optimus sighed, relief washing over him. He unconsciously hugged Starfall closer. Starfall murmured in his sleep and nuzzled his face deeper into the side of his father's neck cables before going still again.
Ratchet leaned closer to the screen. "Almost immediately after I was told the Vosian medic was on her way, I got another call patched through to my office. Vos's new representative to the High Council… Cloudjumper? Cloudskipper?"
"Cloudbreaker," Ironhide interjected.
"That's it. Cloudbreaker. I got a call patched through to my office from Cloudbreaker requesting that he be allowed to land on the hospital's helipad to be there when his medic arrives. Since he's not a relative or medical personnel, I was just going to deny him but he was very insistent. Starfall's in no shape for visitors right now, but Cloudbreaker was almost begging me to let him into the hospital to see you and Star. Said the Vosian Emirate's demanding that he give her a firsthand report on Starfall's condition. As Chief of Staff I can refuse him entry if you don't want visitors yet. But he is the official representative and direct heir of a powerful monarch who just went out of her way to arrange a medic to be sent to Iacon for Starfall's sake. It's a tricky political situation. As Starfall's creator and the Prime, I though this was more of a decision for you to make than me."
Optimus and Ironhide shared a look.
"Ah ain't got no problems with Cloudbreaker comin' by, a least fer a couple klicks," Ironhide shrugged. "Ah'm not a fan of people tryin' ta angle in on what happened ta Star, but we owe him and Slipstream fer bringin' this medic in fer us."
Optimus nodded in agreement. "We do. We also went to them for help, not the other way around. It would be improper not to grant Cloudbreaker this small request after everything he's done for Star." He glanced back at Ratchet on the vid-com. "Tell Cloudbreaker we would be honored to see him when his medic arrives."
Ratchet nodded, although he didn't look pleased with the thought of an interloper in his patient's room. "I don't care if this mech is a prince or not, he's got ten klicks in Starfall's room. That's it. Depending on what this Vosian medic says, we may start specialized repairs on Starfall as soon as tomorrow. I don't need non-relative visitors getting in the way when I'm trying to work on a patient - especially a politician."
"Believe me," Ironhide grumbled, "If we didn't owe Cloudbreaker ah'd be sayin' the exact same thing."
"Do either of you want to go up to the helipad with me to meet Lightningstrike?" Ratchet asked.
Optimus shook his helm. "As much as I feel it would be my duty to go and meet Lightningstrike and Cloudbreaker, I do not want to leave Starfall for that long. He is resting comfortably for the moment and I don't want to risk waking him up. The last time he woke it took Ironhide and me almost a joor to get him to sleep again."
Ironhide studied his sparkmate and son for a moment of silence before glancing at the vid-com with a reluctant sigh. "Ah'll go."
"You will?" Optimus's optic ridges raised in surprised arcs.
"Yea," Ironhide grumbled. "Ah don't wanna leave Star either, but it's like yeh said: we owe Cloudbreaker. It's only right one of us should go say hi when him an' this medic get here. Since yeh've got Star, ah'll go."
Optimus gave his sparkmate a tired but grateful smile behind his battle mask. "Thank you, 'Hide."
Ironhide got up from his chair with a small groan. Optimus heard several gears in his sparkmate's back painfully snap back into place. The hospital's visitor chairs were not designed for long-term comfort. Stepping closer, Ironhide leaned over and put one hand on the back of Starfall's helm. Since Starfall's resurrection, Ironhide seemed obsessed with constantly needing to touch their son to reassure himself Starfall was really back. "Ah'll be back soon. Keep an eye on Star fer me til then."
"I will," Optimus nodded. He sent a pulse of reassuring love across their bond to his sparkmate. Ironhide returned it. Despite their exhaustion and worry, it was reassuring to know the other was there to offer his own support and strength in their trying time.
"Where d'yeh want me ta meet yeh, Ratchet?" Ironhide asked as he straightened and turned back towards the vid-com.
"You know where my office is?"
"Yea."
"Meet me by the elevators in the hallway. We'll go up to the heli-pad from there."
"Got-cha."
Ratchet's face blipped off the screen.
With one last parting nod, Ironhide strode towards the door. Optimus caught a brief glimpse of the two Enforcers stationed in the hallway before the door slid close behind Ironhide. Left alone in the silence of Starfall's hospital room, Optimus leaned back in his chair, trying to make himself comfortable. Starfall whimpered in Optimus's arms at the movement. The Matrix-bearer immediately stilled.
"Shh, Star. It's alright. Shh… Go back to sleep," Optimus murmured, gently stroking the back of his son's helm.
He felt Starfall slowly go limp against his chest again, the puffs of his ventilation systems evening out. Optimus continued to run his fingertips against the sides of Starfall's helm even when he was sure Starfall wasn't about to wake up anymore. The slow, repetitive motion was calming. Even though his back struts hurt from sitting in one place for so long, he could distract himself by calming his son. No matter what kind of discomfort he was experiencing, it was nothing compared to the pain his son was forced to endure whenever he woke. For Starfall, Optimus would endure whatever discomfort he had to if it meant delaying Starfall from having to suffer anymore than he already had.
Cradling Starfall close, Optimus sent a silent plea to Primus that the Vosian medic would be able to do something for his son.
OOOOOOOO
Ratchet beat Ironhide to the elevators by only a few nano-klicks. He had only just reached the lifts when the Prime's Consort came around the corner at the end of the hall.
"Right on time," Ratchet greeted.
Ironhide only tiredly grunted in reply. He seemed distracted, like his mind was still back with his sparkmate and son.
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Motioning Ironhide in ahead of him, Ratchet stepped into the car a step behind. As they both turned around to face outwards again, the doors slid shut. Ratchet punched the topmost button for the roof. As he felt the gentle, but noticeable tug of the lift begin its ascent, Ratchet took the moment to study his companion out of the corner of his optic. Ironhide stood tall and solid beside him – the living embodiment of a former warrior and the current Prime's Consort – but Ratchet detected an overwhelming aura of weariness around the stoic mech.
To the untrained eye, Ironhide might have appeared to be dealing with the stress of his son's death and unexpected resurrection well. But to Ratchet who had seen more than his fair share of pain and suffering over the millennia, he could read the signs of stress-fatigue on the other mech as clearly as if he were reading a data pad. Ratchet had known Ironhide since the earliest days of the war. He recognized those rings of pale protomatter around Ironhide's optics and the slight but noticeable way the old warrior's shoulder plates sagged. He knew those signs. Ironhide was exhausted - both mentally and physically.
For everything Ironhide had endured over the last day and a half Ratchet was actually surprised he was holding up as well as he was. The death of a child was never easy on anyone, not even when that child was miraculously returned from the brink of death. Ratchet still didn't understand how Starfall was alive. He had pronounced the little seeker dead himself. He had examined his cold and empty spark chamber. It had ranked as one of the top three hardest things he'd ever have to do to go and tell two of his best friends that he'd been unable to save their son. He had seen the devastation in Optimus and Ironhide's optics when he'd told them. Never in his entire career had he felt like such a failure as a medic before. Optimus had seemed to shrink away into himself like a fading star when Ratchet had told him his son was gone. Ironhide, on the other hand, had railed loudly and angrily, cursing and making threats and demands to the heavens as only a grieving father could. Ratchet had seen both reactions many times when he'd had to give surviving family members the bad news that their loved ones had slipped away. It never got any easier no many how many times he did it. But giving such devastating news to two of his closest friends had possibly been the hardest thing he's ever had to do.
Since receiving that early morning call from the hospital about Starfall's resurrection Ratchet's attention had mostly been focused on his patient. Between emergency surgery to fix the internal damage he hadn't gotten a chance to tend to before the little seeker had flat lined and fruitlessly struggling to find the right concoction of painkillers to make Starfall comfortable, Ratchet had given very little thought to Optimus and Ironhide's own wellbeing until now. He could tell Ironhide was tired but was being too stubborn to let anyone else know.
"Did you get any recharge last night?" Ratchet asked as the elevator smoothly sped towards the roof.
Ironhide shook his head. "No. Whenever Optimus was holdin' Star ah spent most 'a the time watchin' them. Didn't want ta fall asleep in case Optimus needed me ta take Star fer awhile. Optimus is tired an' runnin' on a low tank even if he won't admit it. Ah hafta be there in case he needs me ta do anythin' or watch Star fer a bit."
Ratchet found it slightly amusing that Ironhide was accusing his sparkmate of being guilty of the same stubbornness he was. "We have an entire hospital's worth of trained staff here to help you and Optimus," Ratchet said. "You don't have to watch Starfall all by yourselves. If you want a few joors to go home and rest I or even one of the nurses could-"
"No. Ah ain't leavin' the hospital an' ah know Optimus ain't either. Until Star's well enough ta come home we're both stayin' here."
Ratchet huffed in exasperation. He should have known Ironhide wouldn't want to listen to reason. He'd seen it countless times before: a child, sparkmate, lover, or friend was being hospitalized and the parent, sparkmate, lover, or friend didn't want to leave or get any rest themselves – as if staying there and wearing themselves ragged from stress and lack of recharge was somehow going to help the other recover faster. Still, he really hadn't expected anything else from Ironhide. The old mech was protective of his loved ones. After having almost lost his child it was actually a surprise he had left Optimus and Starfall long enough to accompany Ratchet to the roof.
"It's your decision what you and Optimus want to do, but the offer still stands. I'm going to arrange that a rollaway berth be brought to Starfall's room so you and Optimus can still get some proper rest. I know from personal experience hospital chairs are not comfortable."
Ironhide snorted. "Yeh can say that again…"
The elevator gave a soft ding and the doors slid apart. An empty rooftop spread out in front of them. The only thing to break up the gray vastness was a giant white circle painted on the rooftop to demarcate where medi-vac transports should land. A strong breeze blew across the empty space. A gray overcast sky hung overhead like a grimy blanket. Rain looked imminent.
"The Vosians should be here in a few klicks," Ratchet said, surveying the sky. He hoped the weather held out long enough for the Vosian medic and her escorts to arrive. He was curious to meet his foreign consultant. He'd never met a seeker-medic before. He knew, logically, that they had to exist given seekers' military-based frame types. Still, despite millennia of battles involving Vosians, Ratchet had never seen a Vosian medic.
The low hum of turbine engines suddenly sounded in the distance. It steadily grew in volume as it sped towards the rooftop. Ratchet and Ironhide turned towards it.
"Consort Ironhide!" a voice called out over the wind as a red and gold fighter jet appeared above the edge of the rooftop. The jet's engines cut off, and a quick transformation sequence later, a handsome seeker landed gracefully on the roof. Ratchet recognized the mech from their conversation over the vid-com. "It's so good to see you," Cloudbreaker said, striding towards Ironhide and gripping the Consort's hand in both his own. Ratchet was surprised when Ironhide didn't instinctively try to wrestle his hand back from the overenthusiastic seeker. Ironhide was not a touchy-feely mech even among his friends. He must be even more tired than Ratchet thought.
"Cloudbreaker," Ironhide nodded.
"How is young Starfall?" Cloudbreaker asked. "I assume Optimus is with him now."
Ironhide nodded. "Optimus is watchin' him. He finally got Star ta go back ta sleep about a joor ago. Poor kid had a rough night."
The edges of Cloudbreaker's face hardened. "It's appalling what happened to Starfall. The violence he suffered at the hands of that mech is beyond comprehension. What are the authorities planning to do with Crosshairs?"
"The Enforcers have him locked up. Prowl is head of the Enforcers an' a close personal friend of me an' Optimus. Him an' Jazz stopped by last night ta give us an update. Apparently, they got Crosshairs ta give a full confession. He's agreed ta plead guilty ta kidnappin', attempted murder, an' assault on a minor. It'll be another couple deca-cycles before he's sentenced, but Prowl said he'll probably get at least hundred orns in prison. Maybe more dependin' on how public opinion influences the judge's decision."
"That hardly equals what he actually deserves," Cloudbreaker sniffed scornfully. "If that mech had committed such crimes against a child in Vos, his sentence would undoubtedly include execution."
"If it was up ta me, he'd be beggin' fer them ta execute him by the time ah got done with him," Ironhide darkly growled.
Cloudbreaker nodded grimly in agreement. "In any case, I hope our medic will be able to aid in Starfall's recovery. Lightningstrike is the Emirate's personal medic and head of Vos's main hospital. She is universally considered to be the most skilled medic our city has to offer."
"I hope so," Ratchet spoke up. "I consider myself to be a good medic, but Starfall's injuries go beyond my knowledge of seeker frames."
Cloudbreaker turned to Ratchet. With only a smile to give any sort of warning, the Vosian prince gripped Ratchet's hand in both of his own before Ratchet could even flinch in reaction. "For one without much knowledge of seeker anatomy, you have done admirable work on Starfall. Who else but a mech with your skills could bring a child back from the edge of death? I must commend you."
Ratchet chose not to point out that Starfall had slipped much farther than just the edge of death. He also hadn't had anything to do with Starfall's resurrection. He still didn't know how it was physically possible Starfall was still there with them. The child had been dead. His sparkchamber had been empty. Not even the most skilled medic in the universe could reverse that kind of diagnosis. Short of calling it a miracle, Starfall's resurrection had been a freak medical anomaly – not because of anything Ratchet had done.
"In any case," Cloudbreaker went on, growing serious, "Lightningstrike is here strictly as your consultant. She is not taking over your case in any way. I do not want you to feel that Vos is trying to encroach on your authority as Starfall's head medic."
"I don't care about the politics of what's happened or who gets credit for working on Starfall. I just want Starfall to be repaired to full working order."
"Spoken like a true medic," Cloudbreaker smiled.
The sound of approaching turbine engines began to hum in the distance, growing steadily closer.
"Ah, that sounds like Lightningstrike now," Cloudbreaker grinned. "The Emirate dispatched her almost as soon as I finished passing on the Prime's request for medical assistance to her. She was given a full military escort to ensure she reached Iacon as quickly as possible."
As the three looked up, four jets appeared over the side of the building. Their engines powered down and they rapidly descended to the rooftop. Twenty feet above the landing pad they transformed, landing on their feet in robot form. A tall black and silver seeker femme was the first to straighten from her landing. A trine of conehead guards stood at attention in a line behind her. The medic looked older. Ratchet estimated she was probably not that much younger or older than himself. It was not really her appearance that made him think that, but rather the way she held herself. Her optics gleamed with a shrewd look of understanding, like she had seen and experienced much over the course of her life. As a Vosian medic, Ratchet imagined she had seen a lot over the course of the Great War. He doubted there was little left in the world that would make this femme flinch.
"Lord Cloudbreaker," she greeted. She offered the prince a quick, offhanded nod.
"Lightningstrike," Cloudbreaker replied. "You made excellent time to Iacon."
The female medic's optics slid from the prince over to Ironhide and Ratchet. She immediately zeroed in on Ratchet. Without a word she strode up to him, her presence commanding. "I assume you're the medic overseeing the Prime's son's care?"
"I am. My name is Ratchet."
"Ratchet, I am Lightningstrike. I'm sure Lord Cloudbreaker has filled you in on my credentials, so we can skip over all of that. What is Starfall's current condition?"
Ratchet had to blink at Lightningstrike's clinical brusqueness. The Vosian medic was nothing if not straight to the point.
"How about I fill you in on the way down?" Ratchet said, gesturing to the elevator behind them.
Lightningstrike nodded. "Lead the way."
Cloudbreaker and Ironhide silently followed as they all squeezed into the elevator car.
"I was told that Starfall's wings were heavily damaged in his attack," Lightningstrike said as Ratchet hit the button that would take them to the patient floor.
"Heavily damaged is a very understated way to describe the injuries Starfall sustained," Ratchet darkly sniffed. He reached into his subspace compartment and withdrew a data pad. It was a copy of Starfall's medical chart. He handed it to Lightningstrike. "Starfall has no wings to speak of right now. They were too damaged for me to try and salvage. I had to remove a fair bit of internal gears from his back as well. The protomatter around the bases of his wings had begun to necrotize from electric burns. The mech that grabbed him was using an electro-blade."
As Lightningstrike scanned Starfall's chart the only thing to betray her personal feelings was the tightening of the protomatter at the corners of her lips. "Just from what I see on his charts, Starfall is going to need to have his entire flight system replaced in order to restore any flight capabilities."
"Do yeh think yeh can fix him?" Ironhide asked, his voice tense.
Lightningstrike glanced up from the data pad. "I cannot say for sure until I examine him myself. His injuries are extensive. But I have repaired seekers in far worse shape than this before and restored full flight capabilities to them – usually with minimal scarring, as well. The fact that Starfall is so young gives me hope. Young sparklings are usually able to recover from traumatic injuries like this much quicker than adults."
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Ratchet led the small group to Starfall's room at the end of the hall. The Enforcers stationed at the door only quietly nodded to Ironhide and Ratchet as Ratchet opened the door and led Lightningstrike inside. Optimus still sat where Ratchet had left him the night before with Starfall protectively cradled upright against his chest. The little seeker didn't stir as Optimus looked up. The bandages taped to his back were spotted with purple dots. Ratchet frowned. Starfall's bandages were going to need replacing soon. Not only was he not looking forward to causing the little seeker pain, but he was growing concerned at the rate Starfall's wounds were seeping. They should have stopped bleeding so heavily joors ago.
"Optimus," Cloudbreaker solemnly greeted. "I wish I could say it was a pleasure to see you, but I realize these are rather stressful circumstances."
The Matrix-bearer nodded distractedly at the prince. His attention was locked on the female seeker at Ratchet's side.
"Lady Lightningstrike," he nodded, sitting up straighter in his chair. "Thank you for coming on such short notice. Forgive me for not meeting you on the roof."
"No apologizes are necessary. Please do not try and get up," Lightningstrike said, coming around the side of the berth. She leaned forward, carefully sliding her hands between Starfall and Optimus's chest. "Here. Let me take him. I must put him on the berth to examine him."
It was with obvious reluctance that Optimus allowed Lightningstrike to lift Starfall out of his arms. Although his battle mask was firmly in place, Ratchet could see the quiet anxiety swimming in Optimus's optics.
Lightningstrike carefully lifted Starfall away from Optimus onto the berth. Wires and tubes trailed over the side of her arms onto the floor to half a dozen different machines. "At least you were holding him correctly. The proper form to hold a sleeping seeker sparkling is cockpit to cockpit. Ground-based models tend to hold their children side to side in their arms."
"Starfall was more comfortable resting upright. He said his back did not hurt as much that way," Optimus explained. His optics tracked Lightningstrike's movements like a hawk. Optimus stiffly stood from his chair to follow Lightningstrike to Starfall's berthside. The sound of gears snapping back into place ran down the length of his back. Ratchet involuntarily winced. He was going to have to get a roll-away berth for Optimus and Ironhide as soon as possible.
"That doesn't surprise me," Lightningstrike murmured. She carefully lowered the injured sparkling onto the padded surface of the berth. Ratchet was somewhat startled when he realized she was laying Starfall facedown on the mat. Almost immediately, a pained whimper sounded in the back of Starfall's throat and he began squirming on the berthpad.
"Shh, shh, little one. It's alright," Lightningstrike hushed in a surprisingly gentle voice as she rearranged the numerous lines running off of Starfall's body so they wouldn't tangle.
"D-dad? Daddy?" Starfall groggily whimpered. He sounded more asleep than awake, as if he were only partially aware of what was going on around him.
"It's alright, Star. I'm still here," Optimus said from behind Lightningstrike.
"Should he be on his front like that?" Ratchet worriedly voiced from the other side of the berth as he watched Lightningstrike arrange Starfall on the berth. "His IC** lines will get pinched with him laying on top of them like that."
"They're not going to stay like that for long," Lightningstrike replied. She slipped one hand underneath Starfall's cockpit and began disconnecting a number of the wires attached to his medical port.
Ratchet instinctively darted forward. "You can't do that! I need to keep a close eye on his vitals."
"Calm down," Lightningstrike sternly chided. She didn't even look up at him as she continued disconnecting Starfall's medical lines. "I'm just moving them to his side port. I need him on his front so I can examine his back."
"Side port?"
"Yes. Seekers have a secondary medical port underneath their arm joint for situations just like this," Lightningstrike explained. "Seekers with wing injuries should never be laid on their side or back. It pulls on the tension cables in our back that connect to our wing gears."
Ratchet leaned closer over the bed to better see what Lightningstrike was doing. "I honestly did not know seekers had a secondary medical port…"
"It's right here," Lightningstrike said, gently lifting Starfall's arm and thumbing aside the access panel hiding underneath his arm. Starfall murmured uncomfortably as she reattached the lines to his side. Nuzzling his face into the pad Starfall let out a keening cry of pain. Lightningstrike frowned. "He should not be in this much pain even with this amount of damage. How many units of neuro-inhibiting serum do you have him on?"
"Fifty-five."
"Fifty-five?!" Lightningstrike looked up at Ratchet, appalled. "He should be on at least one hundred. No wonder he's in so much pain."
It was now Ratchet's turn to stare in appalled shock. "One hundred? One hundred units will kill a sparkling of Starfall's size."
"Not a seeker sparkling," Lightningstrike snapped, turning to the machines by Starfall's berth. Her fingers were a flurry of motion as she modified the anesthetic output. "It's an issue of different metabolisms. Seekers generally need larger doses of medication, especially anesthetics, for them to be effective. You might as well have been giving Starfall no painkillers at all for the amount you were giving him."
The effect on Starfall was almost immediate. As Ratchet watched Starfall's entire body began to relax, the tension melting from his frame like snow under a hot sun. His optics flickered tiredly. With a murmured sigh of relief Starfall relaxed against the berthmat and faded offline. Ratchet looked at the monitors tracking his patient's vitals. Starfall's spark-pulse was strong and steady. His internal engine's RPM was smoothing out to a normal rhythm. There was nothing to indicate Starfall was in any sort of distress. He finally seemed to be resting comfortably.
Lightningstrike turned her attention to Starfall's back. With quick, deft movements she loosened the tape holding the edges of Starfall's bandages down. She carefully lifted away the bio-metallic mesh. Her only reaction to the knotted mess of gore underneath was the tightening of the protomatter around her optics and mouth. Cloudbreaker, standing beside Ironhide on the side of the room, was unable to stifle his gasp of revulsion. He discreetly turned his attention to the far wall.
Ratchet took the fluid soaked bandages from Lightningstrike. Leaning over her patient, Lightningstrike converted one of her fingers into a flashlight. She shined the beam into the deep holes of Starfall's back. She surveyed the damage from a multitude of different angles for several minutes before finally giving her diagnosis. "Starfall will definitely need reconstructive repairs – both internal and external. What remains of his flight gears are completely disabled. He will never fly again if they are not replaced."
"Can you fix him?" Optimus asked. His voice betrayed his desperate need for hope.
"I believe so," Lightningstrike said. She leaned back from Starfall and transformed her finger back into a normal digit. She glanced across the berth to Ratchet. "Besides a new set of flight gears, Starfall will also need a new set of wings. I can order both from Vos. It should take no more than an orn for them to be delivered here. The Emirate was very insistent that anything I needed to help in Starfall's repairs would be immediately obtained. She also decreed that I was to remain in Iacon until Starfall was fully recovered. Once we have the parts we should be able to do everything in one surgery."
"That is a lot of work for just one surgery," Ratchet noted. "Are you sure we can do that much at once?"
"I am confident," Lightningstrike nodded. "This will not be my first reconstructive wing surgery. I've also heard rumors of your medical skills. Between the two of us, I believe Starfall can be restored to working order before the end of this deca-cycle."
Ratchet had to admit that despite the daunting amount of work that lay ahead of them he trusted Lightningstrike's assessment. The female medic had proven herself to be a capable medic thus far. Given her credentials and the Vosian Emirate's trust in her, he felt no reason to doubt her. Ratchet also had to admit he found Lightningstrike's no nonsense attitude and stern confidence refreshing.
"Would you like to come to my office to discuss Starfall's case more?" Ratchet offered. "I have quite a few questions concerning seeker anatomy you might be able to shed some light on. We can also discuss arrangements for your stay here in Iacon. The hospital has several vacant offices you can use, as well as several temporary living suites you could stay in while you're here. Assuming you don't mind recharging in the hospital, that is."
Cloudbreaker took that opportunity to interrupt. "My office has already seen to securing temporary living quarters for Lightningstrike at the Stellar Gate hotel."
"If you don't mind," Lightningstrike said, addressing Ratchet, "I'd actually prefer staying here in the hospital. I do not like to be far from my patients in cases like this. I'm quite used to recharging in hospitals. Back home I recharge more often at work than I ever do in my own domicile."
Ratchet had to smile. Lightningstrike's story was very similar to his own. Depending on what kind of cases he had, he sometimes spent orns at the hospital before going home. He wasn't the only medic that showed such dedication to his patients, but there weren't that many others like that at Iacon General Hospital either. His esteem for Lightningstrike swelled. He had a feeling he was going to enjoy working with Lightningstrike.
**Intra-circulatory
to be continued
Happy New Years! May 2015 be even better than your 2014.
- LAXgirl