Left- Outside
AN: Wanted to change things up a bit and throw in a often overlooked character. Give some spotlight to other bots :D This chapter started out with just a brief idea that quickly turned into a 17 page novel! Hehe Sorry for the length.
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Perceptor had always been mild and timid, never confrontational or looking for trouble. Which is why it was completely out of character when he boldly walked up to Sunstreaker as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Several bots watched the small microscope with wary optics. They knew who he was approaching, and though Perceptor was in no way aggressive, they worried for his safety upon seeing him in close proximity to their resident sociopath. Sideswipe was on duty and therefore, there would be no one to run interference if Sunstreaker decided to flex his superiority.
Sunstreaker tensed, not sure why the microscope was walking toward him. His engine nearly stalled when the much smaller red mech stood in front of his table.
"I wished to inquire, would you be willing to help me with an experiment?" Perceptor asked without pleasantries.
Sunstreaker frowned at the short mech. He was ready to scoff and send the microscope skipping on his aft plates but the genuine curiosity and hopeful glimmer in his baby blue optics changed Sunstreaker's mind. Against his better judgment, he gave a partial shrug.
"Sure."
"When is your next off cycle?" Perceptor asked.
Sunstreaker couldn't remember seeing the scientist looking so… tickled. That was the only word he could use to describe the look on Perceptor's face.
"Tomorrow is my off day," Sunstreaker said, noting the time was close for him to attend monitor duty.
"Can you come by my lab around eight?"
Sunstreaker gave a nod. "Sure."
"Oh, please do not alert your brother," Perceptor said, now looking worried. Who knew the little mech was so expressional? "I don't mean to insinuate that he's not invited, but I would prefer to work unimpeded, and the last time your brother visited my lab, I had equipment that ended up glued to Ironhide."
"And Prowl." Sunstreaker added, remembering the incident all too well. Sideswipe had used Perceptor's 'lazy Susan' for his chemical bottles, and Sideswipe had hot glued it to Prowls' aft. There was still a bald circle on the Second's hind quarter panel.
"Yes, that too." Perceptor said. "Please… I would appreciate it if you didn't let your brother know you were assisting me."
"I don't want him to blow me up, anyway," Sunstreaker said. "I know you have volatile chemicals in there and if you add an idiot to the mix, it makes it unstable. Just look at Wheeljack."
"Well… yes, well… " Perceptor looked at a loss of words. His face colored like Bluestreak's plating with embarrassment.
Sunstreaker watched, interested in the much smaller mech like a predator sizing up the potential take down of its prey. The scientist kept mainly to himself and never seemed to say a negative thing about anyone. Sunstreaker vaguely wondered why he never noticed their similar personalities before. Of course, Perceptor was far too timid and Sunstreaker was a violent, flamboyant personality that overshadowed everything around him.
But really, was he and Perceptor so different?
Both kept to themselves. Spoke only when spoken too, though rarely engaging in actual conversation. Both spent hours, sometimes days locked up in a form of isolation, one with test tubes, the other with paint tubes. Both were awkward in social settings and rarely made an appearance at 'fun' gatherings, though Sunstreaker was forced to attend social events because of his twin. If it wasn't for Sideswipe, Sunstreaker would be exactly like Perceptor, except he'd be violent to anyone who disturbed his peace and solitude.
"Hopefully, this little experiment will be a great benefit, not only to us, but to the humans as well," Perceptor said, looking with bright, shining optics into the face of the Pit Maker himself. With a courteous nod he took his leave, Sunstreaker watching him go with a sinking feeling in his tank.
What did he just agree to?
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The next morning at eight sharp, Sunstreaker hit the alert on the door for Preceptor's lab. The scientist opened the door almost immediately and waved inside.
"Come on, come in."
Sunstreaker entered and was surprised to find that the workplace was neat and orderly. Everything had a place, arranged in size, of how often they were used and labeled in five forms of identification. The more volatile mixtures were kept in their own storage area in back with a blast shield, a vent humming softly above them to prevent the fumes from mingling and igniting. Everything looked as a scientific station should look. Wheeljack could take notes. Of course he'd blow the place up before he had a chance to observe it properly.
"You have a tendency to sustain damage to your left arm, do you not?" Perceptor asked casually. He had worked on the frontliner many times while Ratchet oversaw other patients.
"Yeah,' Sunstreaker confirmed, rolling his left shoulder. Thankfully, nothing squeaked this time. He was going to have to stop sustaining damage to that side. It was going to be become a handicap if he wasn't careful. That was something he couldn't afford out on the battle front.
"If you don't mind, I would like to get some moldings of your hoses," Perceptor said, motioning to a stool that was situated next to a work bench loaded with plaster, gauze, and other assorted things needed for rendering a cast.
"I must admit, I never had a mech ask to see my hose," Sunstreaker quipped.
Perceptor shuttered his optics a few times before the joke filtered through his mind. He gave a weak chuckle. "Yes, well this is purely academic, and it is only your arm I wish to cast."
Sunstreaker smirked at the dark hue along the scientist's cheeks. Oh, the nanites were reacting to the sudden overheating of the emotional center. How entertaining.
"If you will, remove your armor and I'll assist you in removing your protoform covering." Perceptor said, motioning for Sunstreaker's compliance.
Sunstreaker sat down quietly, a first for him. Perhaps he became more amicable when not threatened with medicinal iron? Perceptor certainly could give Ratchet some tips on his bedside manner.
"Trying to get me naked?" Sunstreaker asked, curious to know how dark he could get the scientist to go. Those poor emotionally charged nanites. They were going to be burned out by the time Sunstreaker was done.
"I've seen you 'naked' before, as you so quaintly put it," Perceptor said, carefully laying Sunstreaker's armor piece by piece on the opposite bench. He made sure not to scratch the finish.
"True, but it's different when a mech's conscious."
Perceptor paused in undoing a latch, his face plates going a darker hue of grey. Wow… if this kept up, Sunstreaker could give him a black tan!
The blush got worse as Sunstreaker caressed the edge of his protoform covering, searching for the latch. It was rare that the protoform plating was removed, and Sunstreaker wasn't always conscious when stripped for emergency repairs.
Perceptor turned a shade darker, his optics wide and staring, causing Sunstreaker to twist something in his internals as he fought back the urge to laugh. There was just something hilarious about the little microscope blushing.
Perceptor peeled back the last piece of protoform covering and laid it aside next to the golden armor. Sunstreaker's arm looked so skeletal and emaciated. It was amazing how thin a Cybertronian body was compared to the heavy armaments they wore to protect themselves. It never ceased to amaze the scientist. He grabbed a medical scanner and turned to Sunstreaker.
"First, I want to measure your main lines then I'll wrap them in gauze to do the molds."
"Whatever," Sunstreaker said, a little disappointed that Perceptor's blush was gone and he was once again back to business.
Perceptor held up the laser scanner, passing it slowly over Sunstreaker's exposed circuitry, wires, tubes, hoses and the neural mesh that gave them the sensations that identified and processed the outside world. The mesh was a thick viscous substance that protected the fine filigree fibers that transmitted data to their processors, just like nerve endings conducted impulses to the human brain. The Cybertronian equivalent was just as minute and complex. Perceptor had to use the higher settings of his magnification to even see the little wavy fibers. They resembled the sea anemone on earth and the first time the scientist had seen the aquatic creatures, he had immediately ran a search for Cybertronian bodies.
It was amazing how the two planets were so different, yet had so much in common.
Complicated numbers started coming up on the scanner, showing the precise measurements that made Sunstreaker's frame As the light splayed across the bare structure, Perceptor's optics drifted to the mech holding abnormally still for the unorthodox procedure. It took a lot of trust for a mech to strip down so bare. Perceptor had no illusions about Sunstreaker's complete trust in him, but he knew there was still some respect. After all, Perceptor had patched up the twins almost as much as Ratchet. There was very little the scientist had not seen while under medical duress. Some of the pewter scars were from Perceptor's own hands, especially the main rotary junction. Sunstreaker liked to blow that juncture out all the time. Perceptor had replaced it so many times, he had lost count. Weld scars, patches and stress injuries that had never been reported, littered Sunstreaker's body. Perceptor frowned, knowing a silver mesh looking thing that didn't belong in Sunstreaker's main frame.
"What is this?" he asked though he already knew, having been around Sparkplug.
"Duct tape," Sunstreaker answered with a half shrug. He was keeping his left side immobile so Perceptor could get what he needed.
"What, may I ask, is it doing around your main nerve induction supply?" Perceptor asked, curious and not exasperated like Ratchet normally was when finding makeshift repairs.
"Had a fray and Ratchet was slagged off because Sides sat on his lap during the human visitation."
"I see," Perceptor said, remembering the incident in question. Ratchet was giving some human dignitaries the preliminary prognosis that he may be able to help them with their major diseases, when Sideswipe ambled in, sat down in Ratchet's lap and proceeded to sing to him the newest popular love song.
Ratchet was not impressed.
"Great stuff, duct tape" Sunstreaker said looking at the thin layer of protective mesh supplied by the earthen manufacturers. "Sparkplug suggested the med kits should have at least one roll of it. It's very versatile."
"I am aware," Perceptor said, remembering the incident when Sideswipe learned of the human adhesive.
Every minibot had been taped to their berths and had to be cut free, then soaked in something to dissolve the sticky residue that remained. They were not amused. The command element were not amused, and Sideswipe laughed his aft off all the way to the brig. When he woke up duct taped to his berth, he was no longer amused. Sunstreaker never let his bother know his involvement with that particular treason.
"I could fix the fray if you want," Perceptor said, looking at the foot long silver strip wound perfectly snug around the main conductive wire. "I'll replace the wire first and run a conduit mobility check. Then I'll apply the casting."
"Fine by me," Sunstreaker said, settling in while Perceptor replaced the wire with practiced ease. Sunstreaker had to admire the quick efficiency at which the scientist worked.
Perceptor replaced and discarded the duct tape wrapped wire and picked up the gauze. He worked in silence, carefully wrapping a thin layer around every wire and hose. He mixed the plaster in a small container, and with a paintbrush, applied the plaster in several layers, using his own fans to help the drying process.
While they waited, Perceptor took out a small brush and began cleaning away any residue around the casting. Sunstreaker enjoyed the peace and quite, resisting the urge to fidget when he felt the cast hardening and making his systems feel hot and suffocating. He was glad the cast was on his arm and not his chest.
An hour later, Perceptor deemed the molds ready and picked up a laser scalpel.
Sunstreaker froze, optics wary on the scalpel.
"I assure you, I have calculated the exact depth at which to cut," Perceptor said, hoping to reassure the front liner. "I know the depth of the plaster and the full parameters of your physique."
"It's great when someone knows your measurements," Sunstreaker commented, earning another blush that had him inwardly laughing. He gave a single nod, allowing the microscope the chance to prove his adept ability at handling a laser scalpel.
Perceptor sliced through the molding at the precise depth, splitting the white plaster perfectly in half. It fell to the side like opening shells as he moved onto the next section, freeing Sunstreaker's left arm and giving him back his mobility. One by one they came apart. Perceptor scribbled corresponding numbers to the inside before laying the molds on the table.
When the last piece fell away, Perceptor picked up a small hand held device that resembled a vacuum. Sunstreaker opened his mouth to inquire about the strange tool, when Perceptor turned it on and it began to suck up the chalky dust and cracked pieces.
Perceptor was meticulous as he removed all dust and chips of plaster from Sunstreaker's protoform. When he was done he examined his work before giving a nod of approval. Replacing the vacuum on the table, he grabbed the first piece of the protoform plating before pausing, a mixed expression etching his face.
"You never said what all of this is for," Sunstreaker said, carefully reattaching the neural conductors to his protoform plating.
"I would like to replace a couple of your hoses that are prone to damage," Perceptor said, not realizing he had detailed the front liner to his liking. He assisted Sunstreaker in 'redressing' himself. When Sunstreaker was once again a golden, godly mech, he smirked at the sensation left behind along his plating. It felt abnormally clean, his neural conductors sending information in a flurry of synapses.
"Replace with what?" Sunstreaker asked. He didn't like volunteering for surgery. And though Perceptor was adept at affecting minor repairs, but he wasn't a trained medic. He wasn't Ratchet, not by a long shot.
"I am developing a new construction for parts that will allow us to be more resilient."
"Resilient?" Sunstreaker asked. "How?"
"A new cross between titanium and Kevlar."
"Kevlar?" Sunstreaker blinked. He had heard the word but he didn't remember what it was.
"Humans use it in construction of bullet proof battle armor."
"And you think this… Kevlar… could be used in our systems?"
"My early experiments and data have confirmed a success rate of 98.4413%."
"Good enough for me," Sunstreaker said, remembering all the times he's had to have his hoses and fuel lines replaced from damage.
"By incorporating the two, I believe we can create a new bio-mesh that can ensure less damage."
"New armor?" Sunstreaker asked. He was very much intrigued.
"Not armor," Perceptor said, his face lighting up in excitement. "If my formulations are correct, all tubing inside our bodies may be replaced with the Kevlar and titanium blend, making them resistant to punctures, cuts, and other related damage."
"No severed limbs?" Sunstreaker hated having his arms cut off. But, his legs were worse. He couldn't escape when his brother wanted to torment him.
"There would be no severed appendages and a 94.013 percent chance of a mech surviving an assault without bleeding out due to a punctured fuel line."
"Internals resistant to blades, huh?" Sunstreaker was already weighing the possibilities. He had sustained so many stab wounds, and come close to bleeding more times than he could count. If Perceptor was right, and there was little reason to doubt him, then his breakthrough could boost their survival rate exponentially.
"With the titanium reinforcements, it also makes it more resistant to heat."
"Like being shot or taking a missile?" Sunstreaker had taken quite a few of both over the eons. It would be nice to take one for the team and not get thrown into immediate stasis.
"If my calculations are correct," Perceptor said, sounding very much like a college professor.
Sunstreaker got a mental image of Perceptor lecturing in front of a class of organics and pushing a pair of wire rim glasses up his olfactory sensor as he read. The thought made him smile.
"I have no doubt your calculations are perfect," Sunstreaker said, earning a wide optic look from his companion, who then blushed and busied himself with the medical pad that held Sunstreaker's measurements. "When will it be ready for testing?"
"Depending on the human manufacturer, I should have them within two weeks," Perceptor said without looking up. He could feel how hot his face plates were. He wished Sunstreaker would take his leave already. They were done. And he could get back to work. And Sunstreaker could find someone else to torment.
Perceptor held no illusions that he was exempt from the twins' pranks. So far his involvement had been mild, simply because he kept to himself and rarely ventured out of his lab. He was afraid if he put himself in the crosshairs of the resident prankster and psycho, he'd never survive with his plating in tact. He couldn't plan a prank, and most certainly couldn't match either when it came to strength. He was at a disadvantage any way he looked at it. It was best to slip quietly back into the shadows and escape notice. His plan appeared to work as Sunstreaker flexed his arm and headed to the door.
"Let me know when you wish to do the replacement," Sunstreaker called over his shoulder.
"It will be some time before I can do full transplants," Perceptor said, despite his desire to be alone. Sunstreaker stopped and whirled around, his face etched in that ever present scowl.
"What?"
"I must run simulations before it will be ready for mech involvement, and only then after it undergoes rigorous testing by Ratchet and possibly Wheeljack. Then with their approval, may I proceed to mech experimentations and then I will need volunteers because…" Perceptor rambled.
"Stop!" Sunstreaker commanded, his voice loud and ringing in the lab. Perceptor immediately stopped babbling. "How long are we talking?"
"A year, maybe two, depending on Ratchet and Wheeljack's assessments."
Sunstreaker closed his optics, looking like he was mentally reciting a mantra to keep from losing his cool. He opened his optics slowly and Perceptor had the sudden urge to run.
If only his leaden body would obey his commands.
Course, there would be no way to escape Sunstreaker, so perhaps his quick processor had already figured it out and was just allowing the inevitable to happen?
"Are you confident in your work?" Sunstreaker asked.
The question startled Perceptor. "Of course I am. I would not have taken the risk approaching you if I entertained any doubt."
Sunstreaker's expression remained frozen save for the twitch of an optic ridge. His optics narrowed marginally before he spoke.
"I have residual damage on my left side that still requires constant supervision. When you have the necessary parts, inform Ratchet that I'm willing to have my systems replaced." Sunstreaker lifted his voice when he noticed Perceptor sputter. "Ratchet is aware of the problems I have in my left side. I'm sure he will be more than happy to find an alternative replacement so he has to tend to me less often."
"I'll run the schematics by him immediately, if you wish to forego the normal standard procedure," Perceptor said, clutching his medical pad to his chassis and heading toward Sunstreaker.
"I'm sure Ratchet will be thrilled," Sunstreaker said as the scientist passed. He followed him out, just noticing how short the red mech was. He wouldn't last long in a battle situation, that was for sure. "Ratchet will let me know when he's ready."
Perceptor frowned for a moment before dipping his head in ascent and heading off toward med bay to get the CMO's stamp of approval on his latest idea. Sunstreaker watched him go, feeling a twinge in his arm that meant one of the lines was crimping up again. Primus, he couldn't wait to get the slagging thing fixed!
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Much to Sunstreaker's elation, though he would never admit it, Perceptor commed him for 'elective surgery' with Ratchet to begin Thursday morning, barring any threat from the Cons or accidental damage from an idiotic twin who liked to throw his considerable weight around. When Sunstreaker got to the med bay, he was surprised to find Prowl waiting outside of the main operating theater.
"What are you doing here?" Sunstreaker sneered with an accusing stare.
"Ratchet has informed me of your willingness to allow this, experimental replacement and I wished to confirm your understanding and ensure your informed consent."
Sunstreaker blinked at Prowl, gave a shake of his head, and entered the medical ward without acknowledging the very wordy tactician. The door shut on Prowl's stunned features. Ratchet and Perceptor were already waiting, a tray of instruments sitting quietly in a tray.
"Get in here, Troublemaker," Ratchet said, jerking his helm toward the medical berth. "Sit down, place your arm on the table, and keep your lip components sealed. I'm not in the mood to put up with your mouth."
"When are you ever?" Sunstreaker shot back. He shared a partial smile with the medic who was a friendly enemy since their initial meeting.
"At least I'm not working on Sideswipe." Ratchet deadpanned, waiting until Sunstreaker was seated comfortably on the berth before moving a tray in front of him and placing the golden armor plated arm on the sterile surface. "This will take approximately six hours. I'm going to turn off your pain receptors and neural conductivity to the extremity until it's absolutely necessary to ensure proper realignment."
"Hurts like a fragger." Sunstreaker gave a partial shrug. He'd been over this kind of surgery many times before. The only difference now, would be his parts were to be replaced by something more resilient on the battlefield. It would be a welcome change, not having to return to the drab walls of the medical ward to await repairs.
"You know the drill." Ratchet picked up the instrument tray and placed it on the table that hovered over Sunstreaker's form. He opened up the access panels to numb Sunstreaker's arm.
Sunstreaker remained silent, watching as a seamless unit, Ratchet and Perceptor set to work removing first his armor, then his protoform covering. Starting at the wrist they worked their way up, replacing hoses, lines, and much to Sunstreaker's surprise, the main neural wiring to allow a thin sheath to be placed over the normal covering of the wires. He wisely kept his vocalizer muted, knowing Ratchet preferred to work on his patients in silence. Words were only exchanged between Ratchet and Perceptor, who worked in tandem, keeping a steady, yet fast, pace. In record time Sunstreaker's tubing had been replaced, Ratchet keeping the plating off as he restarted Sunstreaker's neural conductors to test for flexibility, pain, and mobility.
"I forgot to ask, if it's going to make me heavier," Sunstreaker said, feeling his fingers start to tingle as their neural mesh was awakened. He felt like he was grabbing a cactus.
"If anything, you may be slightly lighter." Perceptor informed the frontliner, a scanner showing the readings were in the clear.
"So, no giving Ironhide a run for his credits on weight?" Sunstreaker quipped.
"Definitely not." Ratchet admonished, his own optics watching another portable scanner as systems came on line. So far, so good. Sunstreaker's new components were adapting quickly, his systems integrating them with little resistance. Apparently the new additives were compatible with the Cybertronian anatomy. Interesting. Perceptor may have another assignment if these readings continue to show such positive results. "How's it feeling?"
"Feels….. great, actually." Sunstreaker clenched his fingers, watching the hydraulics and lines twitch with the movement. It was weird, watching your internal workings move without the protection of coverings.
"Three percent neural conduction and an eighteen percent drop in signal degradation." Ratchet frowned at the scanner, his optics skimming the readings on the screen. "Bit lower than what I anticipated."
"I'm just that good." Sunstreaker gave a smug look to the medic though he knew Ratchet wouldn't respond the way intended.
"Good for nothing but slagging." Ratchet added without looking up. He'd put Sunstreaker back to together so many times, he could do it in his charge.
"And fragging, but its not like any of you will ever have first hand experience." Sunstreaker quipped.
"I think the replacements have affected your processor." Ratchet looked up, his brow ridge quirked in humor. "Your mood has certainly been improved."
Sunstreaker narrowed his optics before using his right hand to rub the area over his spark chamber. "Sideswipe's influence. Fragger's probably into something."
Just then there was a loud boom, followed by maniacal laughter and Wheeljack immediately flooding the comms.
'It wasn't me!' Wheeljack called over the frequencies.
Sunstreaker looked to Ratchet. "Told you."
Ratchet glanced at the med bay doors, expecting to see a ruby tornado tearing through his domain, but Sideswipe wisely avoided the area. Perhaps he knew his twin was in surgery and it wouldn't be wise to distract the one performing a delicate operation? Whatever his motives, there was the sound of the alert system going crazy, Red Alert calling for Sideswipe's aft plates on a silver platter, Prowl yelling at the errant Lamborghini to get his aft to the brig, and Sideswipe yelling through his laughter about being off duty and Prowl would have to catch him to institute a punishment. Ten seconds later a zooming engine punctuated by hysterical laughter went wailing by the med bay doors, followed three seconds later by a siren.
"Next time Sunstreaker sustains injury, we will be able to test the new mesh," Perceptor said to Ratchet, happiness radiating off him like a mirage. He was very pleased that everything had gone so smoothly. He was right in approaching Sunstreaker for this particular experimentation.
"How long?" Sunstreaker asked as Ratchet and Perceptor began reconnecting the protoform plating.
"I think you should give it at least a week, barring Decepticon activity and if you have to engage the enemy, I suggest you limit using your left arm," Ratchet said sternly, knowing when it came to Sunstreaker's health, he obeyed. Unlike his brother.
"After it integrates and if you sustain damage, we may assess the damage in case there needs to be any augmentations to the formula for elemental cohesion," Perceptor said, his scanner sweeping over the newly repaired arm. Unlike Ratchet's surgical scanner, this one provided more of a scientific readout than vitals.
"Trial and error?" Sunstreaker hazarded as Ratchet began to replace the golden armor over the protoform. As always the medic cursed the two latches that were inconveniently placed.
"Precisely, though I do believe my calculations are correct in blending of the two main components."
Sunstreaker nodded. He would have to be careful with his left arm and shoulder for an entire week, which meant slow, careful transformations and nothing strenuous. He wondered if Prowl would excuse him from patrol duty this week. The rains were pounding the Oregon coast and Sunstreaker didn't care much for precipitation.
"Though you aren't showing any negative side effects, I'd like to keep you overnight in medbay," Ratchet said as he snapped the last latch into place. "These hoses carry energon and though no tests have proven it's corrosive or incompatible, I don't want to risk having you away in case a hose ruptures and require immediate repairs."
Sunstreaker groaned, looking forlornly around the medbay. He hated it here. But being under medical supervision meant that he didn't have to bother with monitor duty this evening, so with feigned reluctance, he accepted his fate.
Ratchet nodded, pleased that his medical advice was being heeded. "Go grab some fuel and get back here. Don't need you exerting those lines with anything strenuous until we've had a chance to test them."
Sunstreaker sighed and slumped out the door. When he returned it was to find the berth in the very back of the ward partitioned off, a gap wide enough for a mech to pass between the screens, and a stack of datapads. He knew Ratchet had set him apart from any others who may come in with complaints, and he was grateful.
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Five days later, Sideswipe was released from the brig. Feeling antsy due to his confinement and with nothing to take the edge off his nerves, he hunted down his twin who was reclined on his berth reading a datapad.
"I need to blow off steam," Sideswipe said as soon as he entered. "Meet me in the training room."
"Busy," Sunstreaker said, optics roaming the screen. The holonovel Prowl let him borrow was pretty good. Sunstreaker was eager to find out how the killer was subduing and terminating his victims without leaving viable trace evidence. It could prove useful in the future.
"Seriously, bro, I'm wired and need someone who can match me with sparring. You know how Ratchet is when we get someone else to spar with and send them to the medbay," Sideswipe said, standing in the doorway.
"Can't," Sunstreaker said, lowering the datapad to glance at his brother. "Medical leave. Can't do anything strenuous for another couple of days. Ratchet's orders."
'The slag!" Sideswipe snapped, his temper boiling over due to his agitation. "You're fine! In fact, I've never seen you look shinier! Besides, when was the last time either of us listened to Ratchet?"
"Had some hose replacements," Sunstreaker said, feeling a dark thrum over their bond that usually originated from him. Now he knew that his brother felt when he went into a rage. Oh, this may not be good.
"What hoses? You weren't damaged last battle." Sideswipe asked, taking slow, measured steps toward his twin.
"My left shoulder and arm were replaced a few days ago," Sunstreaker commed Ratchet for medical intervention. He already had two minor energon leaks through the new tubing and if Sideswipe attacked, there could be some major damage.
"Look good to me," Sideswipe sneered, now standing beside Sunstreaker's berth. He looked ready to commit murder. Oh, he was very strained. He needed to blow off some steam. Perhaps some racing and sparring with the entire crew would relax him?
"If I rupture Ratchet's hard work, he'll have my ball bearings," Sunstreaker said. "Ask the crew if they want to spar. Maybe you can help the Dinobots with combat maneuvers?"
"I don't want the Dinobots or anyone else. I want you. You are my brother. I need someone who can keep up and take a hit without whining like a sparkling." Sideswipe growled., ripping the datapad from Sunstreaker hand and slamming it down onto the berth. The case cracked, the screen shattered, and a spark erupted from the broken housing.
"I can't risk damaging my left side." Sunstreaker's voice was low, quite, controlled. It was his dangerous voice when he was about to break bad on someone. The quieter he became the more lethal he was. "And that datapad wasn't mine."
"Liar," Sideswipe snarled, thinking his brother was just trying to get out of sparring with him for fear of scratching up his beautiful paint. He was going to have to show him.
Sideswipe looked to the damaged datapad and with inspiration straight from the pit, he pulled a shard from the screen and buried it in Sunstreaker's left elbow.
Sunstreaker howled out a curse as he felt the neural mesh tear, the sharp weapon burying deep into his body. Much to his shock, no energon spilled.
Sideswipe's optics went wide when he realized how deeply he cut his brother. Sunstreaker hadn't bothered blocking his side of the bond, so when the pain struck, it crashed with equal fervor into Sideswipe, who staggered, clutching his own arm as if injured.
Ratchet chose that time to enter their quarters. Without waiting for an explanation, he knocked Sideswipe cold before attending his patient.
"What did that slagger do?" Ratchet asked, running a scan before extracting the still embedded shard.
"He's wound up from being confined for so long," Sunstreaker said, hissing as pain laced up his arm. "You know how he is when allowed to be idle for extended periods."
"Slagger gets intolerable," Ratchet said, not bothering to look at the crumpled mass of red metal at his feet.
Satisfied with the scanner's result, Ratchet yanked the shard out, the screen showing no severe damage. There was some scraping along Sunstreaker's armor and along his protoform covering, but the hoses, wires, and tubing were still in tact. He switched scans and grinned at the results.
"There is a single dislocated wire. Nothing that can't be soldered back into place. But other than that, you have no other injuries besides some scraping along your armor."
"Still hurt like the Pit Maker," Sunstreaker said, taking a chance to bend and flex his damaged arm. There were a few twinges of discomfort but nothing compared to what he usually experienced.
"It means your systems have integrated the new bio-mesh as your own," Ratchet said, "You're receiving and transmitting neural conduction with a 99 percent ratio."
"Good sign?" Sunstreaker asked.
"Very," Ratchet confirmed. He looked at his pedes to Sideswipe's unconscious form. "I wanted to test your new mesh but not in such a drastic manner."
"Let Prowl deal with him," Sunstreaker said, glad he receive such a clean bill of health. Normally he'd be heading into surgery and cursing his brother's designation.
"Slagger," Ratchet said to the crumbled red metal. "Think he'll ever learn?"
Sunstreaker gave a one sided shrug. "After all these millennia? No."
"I've commed Prowl. He's on his way. Fragger will only be out for a few minutes." Ratchet gave a heavy sigh. "I didn't hit him as hard as I should."
"You'll never pound anything into his thick processor," Sunstreaker confided. "Believe me, I've tried.'
"Prowl will send him back to the brig."
Sunstreaker's smile turned devilish. "I have something else in mind…."
odnosndoisndodnoindosindoinsdoindo0o0o0oo0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
When Sideswipe awoke it was find the floor smashed into his face and his helm pounding in time with a phantom wrench. He shuttered his optics and hoisted himself up into a sitting position, where Prowl was standing in front of him, Ratchet and Sunstreaker talking quietly as Sunstreaker performed a serious of motions to check the mobility of his damaged arm.
In hindsight, attacking his brother wasn't such a bright idea.
"Care to explain what you were thinking, or were they any form of coherent thoughts going through your processor at all?" Prowl inquired.
"I was hoping to rile up Sunshine into a good fight," Sideswipe said, gaining his feet and finding himself to be relatively stable. Ratchet must have hit him softer than normal. "Let me guess. Back to the brig? That's what started this whole thing in the first place."
Sideswipe heaved a heavy sigh. "I hate being idle."
"Oh, of that I am aware," Prowl said. "However, you are not confined to the brig. You are going to get the exercise you require."
Sideswipe groaned, feigning sickness from the hit to the helm. "Don't know if I can do anything strenuous. Ratchet knocked me pretty good."
"You're fine," Ratchet said, glancing at the red Lambo before his attention back to Sunstreaker's range. "I already scanned you. No damage. Fit for active duty."
"Great," Sideswipe grumbled, then gave Prowl and annoyed sigh. "Let me guess, more wash rack cleaning? Helping the cleaning drones in the rec room? Dump the bilge tanks?"
"We don't have bilge tanks," Prowl said flatly. "But no. You will be required to employ your skills and exercise the built up tension from your frame."
Sideswipe's expression immediately turned cheeky. He stepped forward, grasping Prowl's hand and looking deep into his optics. "Are you coming on to me?"
"Highly doubtful," Prowl deadpanned, withdrawing his hand from the mischievous Lambo. "You are to report to the front of the ARK to exercise your engine."
"Really?" Sideswipe asked, delight making his face shine. He was intrigued with the idea. He narrowed his optics, not trusting Prowl. He doubted the Praxian would allow a race track to be built around the ARK and that he was going to allow Sideswipe some much needed laps. But, Prowl didn't think a track was practical, so it would never happen.
"The only stipulation is that you are remain close to the ARK and may not venture to human roadways, lest you find yourself confined for one month for endangering motorists."
"Awesome!" Sideswipe crooned, dashing to the door. He paused in the doorway before turning. "Prowl, you are one cool mech." He disappeared with a grin and bounce to his pedes.
"I'm thrilled by the assessment," Prowl stated with a sigh, nodding toward the other two before taking his leave.
Ratchet and Sunstreaker exchanged looks.
"Turn off your side of the bond. Don't need anything leaking through," Ratchet said.
Sunstreaker smirked. "As soon as that slagger exited, I shut him out."
"Good," Ratchet said, returning to work on checking for any stress on the new parts. "When Sideswipe finds out he's the Dinobots new plaything to chase, he's going to be flooding you with all kinds of emotions."
Sunstreaker grinned, his optics lighting up in a way that most had never witnessed. "I know. They're going to chew him up and spit him out. It's going to be great!"
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Sunny will probably go hang out in Red's office just so he could watch the security feed of his brother being beaten up by Dinobots. :D Or at the very least, have Red to record it so he could enjoy it later.
I think Sunny is going to be a bit nicer to Perceptor now. Not that he was aggressive or confrontational with him before, but Perceptor is such a mild, gentle soul. :D
