TIME MEASUREMENTS:
Astrosecond: .5 seconds
Nano-klik: 1 second
Klik: 1 minute
Breem: 8 minutes
Cycle: 24 hours (one day)
Deca-cycle: 4 weeks (one month)
Mega-cycle: 96 hours (four days)
Meta-cycle: 12 months (one year)
Stellar Cycle: 6 months
Vorn: 83 years
Mega-vorn: 83,000 years (1000 vorns)
60 mega-vorns: 4,980,000years
O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
Sunstreaker screeched into Base without pause, every movement smooth and calculated to keep from disturbing his passenger.
He fought to ignore the way his inner Gladiator snarled at the mechs and femmes around him. He knew none of the bots on Base would threaten a sparkling. That they would destroy themselves first. (It didn't stop the very strong-and rather new- Guardian Protocols that were working it time with his Gladiator Programming, his Logic Center, and his Battle Computer from screeching about the potential danger.)
He ignored everyone around him, settling a little as Sideswipe barreled around a corner to fall in behind him. Sides wouldn't let anyone sneak up on him, and he would watch Sunny's back without question no matter what bot approached or that he had no idea why Sunstreaker was so on edge.
Sunstreaker drifted around a corner, headed straight for med bay, and taking a moment to send calm-peace to his twin when he sensed the worry spike over their twin bond as Sides realized where he was headed. People scrambled to get out of the way, but Sunstreaker took no notice, and when the people in question realized he was headed for med bay they took no offence to his driving. (They had had Autobots go careening down the halls to med bay more than once- it was expected by that point that when a bot was headed to med bay that quickly, the humans just needed to move because there was a good chance somebody was hurt)
Sunstreaker transformed before he reached the doors, the sparkling relocating to his Sparkling Chamber smoothly and without disturbance.
Ratchet was waiting for him, and Sunstreaker could read his worry about the 'injured bot' Sunstreaker was supposed to be bringing in. He saw the flash of confusion in Ratchet's optics when he didn't see the bot in question.
Sunstreaker walked right up to the medic, Sideswipe on his heels, and demanded "Close this section of the med bay down. I'm calling in Protocol 9-8-3."
Sideswipe and Ratchet both tensed sharply in response to his words. Ratchet met his optics for an instant before springing into motion to obey.
O~O~O~
Protocol 9-8-3 was a rarely used protocol. It was a very, very serious thing to put the procedure into motion- done only in the most important of circumstances.
What it did was tell whoever had been told to activate it that whatever was about to be shared or done, it was to be done with the upmost of secrecy. It was called in for only the most sensitive or secret of things, seeing as once it was activated, it locked out anyone not present for the activation.
Even a Prime.
By telling Ratchet to put Protocol 9-8-3 into motion Sunstreaker had basically put the portion of med bay they stood in on lockdown. No one got in, no one went out. Any medical issues that came up during the duration of the Protocol would need to be dealt with by Jolt or First Aid in another segment, and neither of the twins would be available for the duration of time the protocol was active.
The room would be thoroughly swept from any kind of bugs or spyware before any kind of action would be taken, and the mechs in the room would be sworn to silence on the matter until the one to call it- Sunstreaker in this case- gave the okay to speak on whatever was discussed or done during the Protocol.
O~O~O~
And Sunstreaker knew this.
His newly activated Guardian Protocols demanded that he act to keep the sparkling as safe as he could. So Sunstreaker would hold Ratchet and Sideswipe to the demands of Protocol 9-8-3 and the silence on what he was about to show them from everyone- even Prime- until the sparkling was healed at the very least. After that…he would be willing to try with the bots he trusted most. (Everyone else would need to work for it- and even those he trusted would need to prove worthy of the trust he was trying to extend to them.)
He was very aware that his optics were glowing white and announcing to all who knew the twins that Sunstreaker's Gladiator Programming was very much active. He was aware of the thin line he was walking, every instinct and Program he had screaming to shelter the sparkling, but the sparkling needed medical care, and Sunstreaker could not keep this from his twin- his other half.
So he needed to inform Ratchet and Sideswipe.
"Sunny?" Sideswipe's voice was soft but lined with steel and when Sunstreaker looked at him, he could see as the blue in his twin's optics began to lighten towards white as his Gladiator Program fought to surface.
Ratchet came back from sweeping the room and locking out anyone and everyone else, informing Jolt and First Aid they would be taking any medical cases until further notice, as well as activating the sound-proofing he so rarely had a reason to use. "Sunstreaker?"
Sunstreaker spent a silent moment wrestling with his Programs, the white glow in his optics brightening-which Ratchet and Sideswipe both took note of- before he managed it. "While I was out…I found something."
Another moment of silence before Sunstreaker closed his optics and sagged slightly on his pedes. "I have no idea how it is possible. By all accounts it should not be." Sunny opened his optics and pinned the two bots into place with gleaming white. "You will hold your silence on this to all bots until he is healed." He commanded them both despite knowing his twin and Ratchet would both obey Protocol 9-8-3 and hold their silence.
He got two serious nods in response, and very, very slowly, Sunstreaker reached up.
He knew the exact moment Ratchet and Sideswipe alike realized he was reaching for his Sparkling Chamber.
He felt the utter and complete shock that stole over his twin, so powerful that his legs weakened under him and he had to grab the closest berth when Sides realized where he was reaching. Ratchet locked into place, the older bot's optics tracking his servo as it got nearer and nearer to his chassis. And then Sunstreaker slowly, carefully, as if he was handling the most delicate of spun glass, reached into his Sparkling Chamber and pulled out the sleeping form of the sparkling.
O~O~O~
Sideswipe immediately had to sit down the moment the little being in his twin's servos came into view. His legs no longer wanted to support his weight at the sight of such an impossibility. There was no way—
No wonder Sunstreaker's Gladiator Programs had snapped on so sharply and immediately! The twins had always had a soft spot for sparklings to begin with, finding a sparkling out on its own, so injured and upset…it was a wonder his twin had stayed online at all, much less that his Gladiator Programming hadn't gone on a rage. The rush of feelings that had near overloaded Sideswipe's processor before his twin had slammed their bond shut suddenly made perfect sense, as did the way Sunny had slammed their bond closed. There could be no distractions or risks of distractions while getting the little one to Base.
O~O~O~
Ratchet was an old bot.
Even by his race's standards.
He had seen many, many things. Things ranging from the most disturbing and despicable to awe-inspiring and beautiful.
Having one of the Twin Terrors come barreling into his med bay, frantic with worry over the other was bad news, for that usually meant something serious had happened to the other. The sort of serious that had Ratchet up to his elbows in Energon and broken parts. When Sunstreaker had called over the comm, his voice so tense, and reported an injured bot he was bringing in with that tone he had used, Ratchet had worried.
But nothing, nothing, could have prepared him for the truth.
When Sunstreaker had strode up to him, his optics glowing like white hellfire, and demanded Ratchet activate Protocol 9-8-3, his spark had dropped. Not even the twins would joke about something that serious, and so he had obeyed the demand.
But then Sunstreaker had reached up, and Ratchet had seen where he was reaching and everything in his processor stopped.
It was not possible.
And yet…Sunstreaker removes a young-impossibly young, too young only meta-cycles old- sparkling from his Sparkling Chamber.
Ratchet sways on his pedes, reaching blindly for the med bay wall to brace himself up, his optics riveted on the impossibility in Sunstreaker's servos.
No wonder the bot had demanded he activate Protocol 9-8-3!