Chapter 4: Little Monsters

The grasses were tall and dancing. It was like a thousand fingers were reaching upwards tickling his underbelly. Scorponok had giggled – or chirped to be more exact – for the first few seconds after he had crawled into the tall vegetation. At first, after getting off the landing field, he had hated this continent. The air was not chilly at night like it was in the desert. It was cooler, but still muggy. The ground was hard as well. It wasn't soft and shifting like the sands, and he quickly realized that he was now at a disability. He would have trouble attacking from underground. His stealth was diminished as well.

He ignored that though. All he needed was his new Master.

So, he had been walking all night, grabbing a quick ride on a freight train. Luckily, his Master's mind was weak and fragile, haunted by many lost memories. It was easy for him to get the information he needed. He also got some semantics to the base and was not shy about abusing the information. He was hungry. That attack had taken more out of him then he knew, and he was unable to take as much energy as he wanted the first time. His Master needed the energy to heal and survive the force link-up. But, from what he understood, his master now had free access to an energon dispenser. The youngling was probably going to gorge himself for the next few days, his systems readying themselves for the next link-up.

The scorpion-mech clicked happily at the thought, already tasting the sweet energy that was bound to come, but first … he had to figure out how to get across this freeway without being seen.

One huge car pile-up later, a hitchhiked ride on top of an eighteen-wheeler and about two hours worth of walking, Scorponok found himself at his final destination. There seemed to be little security, probably because there were few Autobots at the base and the base seemed temporary regardless. There would be security to come so perhaps it was best if he started digging his tunnels and nest now.

Clicking his claws together, the drone suddenly dived beneath the soil, a whispering echoing through his mind, "Master."

...

Bluestreak's optics suddenly snapped online, the word echoing in his head. He had been having a rather pleasant recharge: no dreams, no worries, no nightmares.

Offlining his optics, the youngling put more energy into his audios. He didn't hear someone call out to him again. Instead, he heard the soft hum of Kup's vents and engine. It was kind of like a slight snoring of the vents. Normal, apparently, for older mechs. Blue didn't mind. He forgot how nice it was to have someone to share a berth with. True, he usually had a roommate of some sort, but they were no caretaker. They were kind, but didn't have the patience that caretakers did. A caretaker would comfort him if he had a nightmare or was too scared to sleep, not a roommate.

Yawning and thinking that he had been woken by nothing, Bluestreak was about to lay his head back down when suddenly … the shadows moved.

A gasp caught itself in the young mech's vocalizer at the sight. There was something in the room, and it was getting closer and closer like a living shadow. For a moment, the youth thought he was going to have one of those nightmares where a dead mech would come out of the darkness and ask if he may rest with the youth … like last time. Those were the worst. Not because a seemingly dead mech of Autobot or Decepticon origin was asking if they may lay their shredded body next to him and comfort him like their corpses had so long ago … but because he had to remember. Every illusion that asked to lie by him was a real mech from that day he had hidden in corpses to spare himself. They had all been real mechs Blue had curled up against when he had been bleeding, broken and hiding. He had been so close to deactivating.

Scorponok froze. There was fear, deep mind-destroying fear coming in waves off his young master now. What did his Master have to be afraid of? Not him. It had to be that other mech in the room. Yes, the green one curled up with his young host. The slagger was older. He probably had been taking advantage of the young mech, or had hurt his frail feelings in some way.

Yes, that was something new as well … frail feelings. Decepticons had a tendency to be lacking in the emotional department, except when it came to rage. Well, the emotions weren't entirely unpleasant, but they certainly would take some getting used too.

Either way, the green mech was getting a taste of his tail.

Gliding out of the shadows, the scorpion-mech noiselessly moved forward rising his stinger ready to impale the recharging mech as if it were nothing. Yet, before he was about to slam through the plates of that green chassis, a grey hand sprang forward in an almost protective manner.

"He didn't hurt me," said Bluestreak, saying the words as if on instinct. He wasn't sure why he had said them, but something in the bond was telling him that that was what he had to say in order to protect the older mech from his newest … problem. Strangely, Scorponok stilled, drew his tail downward and clicking softly upward at the young mech.

"How'd you get here?" said Blue, his optics brightening suddenly at the noise that escaped his mouth. For a moment all he could feel was the bond and he had forgotten about Kup. Now he was eyeing the recharging mech like he was an executioner. After a quick breem of holding his breath, his vents silent and his body started to overheat slightly, did Bluestreak threaten a sigh. His hands shook as he slowly lifted up the green mech's intertwined limbs from his. For the first time, the youngling kind of regretted that caretaker's nearly suffocated their charges. It was something that he had been craving since he lost his creators, but he couldn't risk the older mech waking and seeing the drone.

Slowly, with a tense ease he managed to move Kup's servos, stilling from time to time when a grunt would escape the elder. Finally, sliding off the berth and gently placing a green arm back on the berth, the gunner looked down at the drone. He knew not if he should be glad that it wasn't a corpse to come visit him, because instead he got a clingy drone. Both seemed bitter, but at least the latter was alive.

Swallowing, his hands shaking, he moved forward. Bluestreak couldn't believe he was about to touch the drone purposely, but he didn't want Kup to wake up and stare at him with optics filled with horror and disgust. He could not bear that … not from Kup … not from Prowl … not from anymech. So, he'd touch the drone and get him out of the base before anyone could see his shame.

Slowly, he knelt down, wrapping his arms around the drone as if it was a big dog, and he was nothing but a child. Scorponok, at first, was surprised and flailed his many legs as he was pulled off of the ground. He did not like being held like this. True, the bond eased a bit being so close to his new master's spark, but this was uncomfortable. Despite himself, the scorpion-bot let out a rather loud whine and almost was dropped.

"Quiet!" whimpered Blue as he struggled to keep the squirming 'bot in his arms while at the same time trying to place a hand over Scorponok's vocal processor. "Or you won't get fed."

The young-bot froze, his wings shivering. F-fed? Where had that come from? N-no. Oh, Primus. There was a program that had been on his HUD since he woke up and he hadn't noticed it. I-it had been readying his systems for energy conversion and symbiot support.

Bluestreak's fingers could no longer hold onto the thing in his grasp. Fear and disgust were crawling up his spinal-column. I-if he fed it, it would keep coming back and sooner or later he'd be gutted for his parts. A small sob escaped the gunner's vocalizer and he completely dropped the scorpion-drone, Blue's body falling backwards against the wall with a clang.

Kup, thankfully, snored a little louder at the sound and rolled over.

The young mech though started shaking his head. "No, no. I'm not going too."

Scorponok's red optics gleamed in the darkness and he tilted his head, a whine escaping the drone's vocals as it drew nearer. The drone's claws quickly reached forward as if asking to be picked back up again.

Blue knew the smaller bot wasn't asking to be picked up merely for the contact: it wanted to feed off of him as if he had a tit on which to suck. He was no Creator. He was no pawn. He was not a free meal. He was not a Decepticon.

"No, go away," whispered the youth, his arms surrounding himself. "Autobots don't have drones. J-just go away, okay. I know you don't like me. J-just leave me alone. I won't tell anyone you were here. Go find a Decepticon or something."

Scorponok ignored the plea and all but crawled up his Master now, whining loudly and caring less if the green mech woke. He was hungry. Yes, he knew the youngling was scared. In fact, all hosts were became scared or paranoid during the first feeding … even Decepticons. It was normal. He'd ease Bluestreak through it. He wouldn't push too hard. He didn't care if it took a few hours to get the youth calmed down and to start his feeding programs properly. He knew what to expect. He just wished the bond was stronger so he could tell the frightened mech that there was nothing to be scared of. There would be a slight ache and maybe a jolt when he plugged into Bluestreak's systems, but he'd be able to comfort the gunner through the bond so much easier afterwards.

Yet, no matter how hard he pushed the feeling of reassurance through the bond, Bluestreak still remained panicked, his body sliding down the wall towards the door. Master wasn't going to run, was he? It would only hurt them both if he did that. The youth wasn't going to make Scorponok force him, was he?

...

Ratchet yawned and rubbed his face plates as he sat down at his make-shift desk. He knew that he should be in recharge like most of the base, but he had work to do. During the meeting with Prime, he had been informed that they had just received a communication that another unit was heading their way. Soon enough a fully staffed ship would land on the moon. Apparently, Ratchet would be helping Hoist build a short range space-bridge that would connect the now planned Autobot City on the moon to a to-be-assigned base on Earth. He had to admit he was glad to know they were getting a real base soon and that more Autobots were alive and well. At the same time he was wondering if he should throw himself off the dam now or later. Full staffed meant that the ship and to have at least twenty to thirty mechs on it. And thought they said they were fully staffed … he doubted they had a real medic. He'd never get a break between injuries, outdated maintenance checks, the building of Autobot City, and training new medics.

Free time was never really free time in the life of the CMO.

Well, since the ship was still a few weeks off, he'd get some of the mech's maintenance work in before he had more soldiers that he could handle. He wasn't sure where to start with the maintenance, so picking soldiers alphabetically was fine. He really didn't want to start off with Ironhide anyway. The mech had a way of ruining his day when it came to giving him a medical exam.

With a grunt of his engine, the medic quickly put the files in order and picked up the first one.

"Ah, Bluestreak. I don't think I've ever personally done any work on him," said the medic to himself, glad that Prowl was the youth's unit leader and had made sure to keep all medical files despite having lost their medic – Klench – in battle.

His cool mood disappeared quickly and was replaced by surprise after he opened Bluestreak's file. It seemed … wrong. For the most part, it seemed short except for a well document report on an almost full-body reformat a few vorns ago after a battle on a Cybertronian settlement called Veala. Ratchet cringed as he looked at the repairs. The poor youth had to have been in the medical bay for orns for the injuries and integration of new parts. Ratchet was surprised that the youth hadn't been left for dead by the medics, marked a critical. So, they must have found him at the end of battle, or he certainly wouldn't be here. He'd hate to admit it, but in big battles like Veala medics had to make hard choices. Sometimes they even had to cannibalized off mechs as soon as they passed in order to keep the less critical alive.

Bluestreak had been lucky. He was probably thought dead by everyone and was somehow able to hold out until the battle was over. He really should bring that subject up during Bluestreak's next physiological evaluation. Whenever he was he due for that …

"Oh my, that's not good," whispered the medic to himself as he started to page deeper into the file.

It wasn't that Bluestreak had bad marks for mental health. It was just that there wasn't an updated evaluation after such a terrible battle. In fact, there was barely anything in the file after the major repairs from the Battle of Veala and a few minor battle repairs. Where were his upgrades, system wear checks, basic virus upgrades and maintenance checks in general? But that wasn't the worse part: Bluestreak was older than he thought. Bluestreak had missed his last two youngling upgrades that he needed in order to function properly when he finally got to his adult upgrade. The kid was under-formatted for his age … unless this file was wrong. If not, he needed more supplies. Bumblebee was a little late for his next upgrade, but at least he wasn't two behind, a third almost passed due.

The medic sighed. Here he had been wincing about the arrival of a ship full of new mechs to repair and beat with a wrench. Now, he couldn't wait for the ship to show up. It would have supplies he needed for such a bad case of neglect. Ugh, Primus, they needed to get the kid a caretaker. A caretaker would have known the youngling needed upgrades.

Getting out of his chair, the medic decided to go see Prowl. He knew the tactician was not in recharge like directed. So the slagger might as well help make a schedule up to get the youngling time off so Ratchet could slowly make repairs and perform maintenance until the ship got here. He also wanted the youngling off the field as much as possible. He had a feeling that the energon he had seen on the youth's back was caused by eroding systems. The youth was probably going to start falling apart if something wasn't done.

XXX

Paw07: Ratchet … oh how I do love your bad timing … or perhaps impeccable timing. XD. And good Scorpy, he's going hungry tonight.

(Revisions March 2016)