Knight in Borrowed Armor 6
Communication
A Transformers Prime Fanfiction
Optimus Prime roared into the silo at full speed and transformed, dropping down into a crouch with weapons drawn, Ratchet right behind him. Nitor was on his knees bent nearly to the floor clutching at his throat. Smoke billowed from the secondary communication panel. Fowler was talking excitedly with the general while Mrs. Darby and the Lady Monk stood by the red mech. June was examining Nitor's vocal processor which seemed to be sparking.
Optimus slowly stood and powered down his weapons. Ratchet strode over to the injured warrior and began scanning him. The Prime walked over to the consol and turned off the alert that had summoned them into the base. The fire suppression system had not activated for some reason. He triggered it manually and the compressed gas rolled out onto the sparking metal. The cold discomfort crawled up his legs but his internal sensors showed no danger.
"Optimus, Nitor will be fine. I'm taking him to the medibay. How's the computer?" Ratchet called.
"There appears to have been a massive power surge," Optimus replied scanning the data. "The main system is malfunction mildly as well but is primarily undamaged. The surge looks to have originated from the consol itself."
"Human technology," The medic muttered in frustration as he examined the battered mech's vocalizer.
"Prime," Fowler called, "we were in the middle of a call when the comm. went crazy. If it was just a power surge we need to reestablish contact so the poor guy doesn't blow a gasket trying to send in reinforcements. We should be able to contact him from the jet."
"Very well," Optimus replied and the two soldiers headed topside.
The fire was quickly contained and the Autobot Leader began to run a diagnostic. There had been minor power surges through the entire system, but as he had expected they all originated from the communications consol. He was not the mechanic that Ratchet was but he had a solid understanding of data systems. It had been, he was relieved to note, strictly an internal matter. Something had caused the audio receptors to overload resulting in a cascade effect spreading through the system.
Ratchet came out of the medibay frowning. Optimus felt another wave of relief. That was his old friend's scientific mystery frown.
"June is repairing Nitor's vocalizer. It was only a few blown circuits," Ratchet said absently as he replaced Optimus at the computer.
"As was this," the Prime indicated the scorched equipment, gladly surrendering his position to the medic.
"Hmmm," Ratchet examined the computer thoughtfully.
"Prime," Fowler called out as he reentered the silo with the general. "We made contact successfully."
"Good," Optimus replied. He turned to Nitor who was walking out of the medibay. "Are you well?"
"I believe so," the red mech replied, "but there appears to be a problem. I am incapable of speaking the necessary language with this body."
"What?" Ratchet demanded jerking his head up.
"It would be difficult, if not impossible; to render the information I need to in one of the base languages. This English is a tongue of merchants and wholly inadequate to the task. When I tried to speak the mother tongue," Nitor indicated the blackened computer and his throat, "you are witness to the results."
Ratchet narrowed his optics.
"And what makes you think it was an inability to handle your language that caused the problem in the first place?"
"The device appeared to be functioning properly," Nitor responded. "Right up until I began to speak in the mother language. I managed to get out a few sentences when not only the device began to flame, this voice began to fail painfully. Given that time is so short I'd rather not test my theory further."
The medic was still skeptical but gave way before the other's logic.
"What about one of the clan languages?" the general asked.
The mech paused in thought.
"That would be acceptable," he mused out loud, "But I would still need to contact the Guardian face to face to avoid another incident."
Fowler looked at Optimus who nodded.
"Ratchet prepare a groundbridge," he said.
The medic nodded mutely and complied. Fowler stepped up and gave him the coordinates.
"You should be able to transform now," the red and white Autobot said curtly to Nitor.
"Transform?" the battered mech asked in confusion.
"Yes. You didn't think you were going to go walking around outside like that did you?" Ratchet demanded gruffly.
"No, I suspect not," Nitor murmured. "Perhaps if you could trigger the change once I cold copy it, but I am afraid I'm at a loss."
The medic left the computer repairs and led the other mech back into the lab.
*Optimus,* Arcee's signal came over the comm. *How's it going?*
*We have run into some difficulty that has resulted in Nitor needing to personally deliver the message. Fowler will escort him to the necessary meeting and then back to base.*
*Okay, the kids are getting curious. How much should I tell them? Miko's about to strangle Jack.*
*I think it would be best to let Mrs. Darby handle informing the children,* Optimus decided after some thought.
*Understood, Arcee…Miko! Stop that!* the signal suddenly cut out and Optimus gave a small smile.
In the medibay Ratchet had attached an uplink cable to the base of Nitor's helm.
"All right," the medibot said, "I should be able to stimulate the transformation process with this. I warn you though, it will be painful. The repairs I've completed so far will hold, but quite frankly I can't even understand how you are alive without a drop of energon in you. I have no idea how it will affect your ability to change modes."
"Understood," the red mech said calmly.
The Autobot triggered the device and Nitor's mesh began to shift. In seconds a rusty red muscle car was sitting on the floor of the lab.
"And I simply reverse the process to return to my previous form?" the mech asked.
"Precisely," Ratchet responded.
After a few false starts Nitor succeeded in regaining his bipedal form. Ratchet and June took a moment to check the recent welds and found them satisfactory. The battered red mech returned to his alt mode.
"My Lady. I would appreciate it if you and the Lady Archeota would wait here for my return," he said.
"Well I'm not going anywhere for awhile," Mrs. Darby said with a smile.
"Very well, then I am ready to depart," Nitor said.
He rolled out of the lab behind Ratchet.
"Lady Monk?" June turned toward the other woman. "May I ask you a question?"
"Of course," the woman replied, "and please calls my Laura."
"Then I'm June," she responded. "What exactly is with all your titles?"
"Oh," the dark skinned woman gave a small laugh. "Herrera is my married name. Monk is the name of my husband's house. Archeota is just a job title."
"It means record keeper, doesn't it?" June asked.
"Yes, it was the duty of the line of Monk to remember the task that had been assigned to Nitor, and be here to assist him when he reappeared," the woman held up the dusky red stone one her finger. "This is our symbol."
June nodded, and the two women began to chat.
Ratchet led Nitor out of the lab and into the main silo.
"I am ready to depart," the muscle car announced.
The Autobot leader nodded. Agent Fowler and General Trask climbed into the car and Ratchet triggered the groundbridge.
"Remember Fowler, summon backup immediately if the Decepticons make an appearance," Optimus instructed the human.
"You bet Prime. I'm not interested if facing Screamer alone again," Fowler said with a bark of laughter.
The muscle car rolled out through the pulsating green portal.
"Ratchet, what is the location of the coordinates?" Optimus asked.
"Just north of the Ft. Wainwright Army base in Alaska," the medic replied.
"I see," the Prime said softly.
Ratchet could sense that his friend was deep in thought. The medic allowed himself to relax a bit. Optimus wasn't just going to let this all slide.
"Nurse Darby," he called, "I'd like to go over the data I received from General Trask with you. I have some questions about the notations."
"Common! You gotta tell me what's going on!" Miko clung determinedly to Jack's neck. "Pretty please!"
"Miko stop that!" Arcee snapped, snatching up the girl and gently attempting to pry her off Jack.
They were in a massive old warehouse on the outskirts of Jasper. It had been used to store surplus military equipment during the Second World War and was still officially a government structure. Fowler had suggested it as a place for the children to hang out with the bots outside of the base and had cleared all the necessary paperwork. Dusty golden light filtered through old windows and fell on tarp covered piles. Bulkhead and Bumblebee were sitting on old storage tanks watching in amusement while the cyclebot tried unsuccessfully to separate the two humans. Raf perched on Bumblebee's shoulder glancing nervously between the two females.
"Miko I am serious. Let go of him," the fembot growled.
"No! Not until I get some answers!" the girl responded defiantly, pink hair bobbing in the soft sunlight.
"Gack! Miko please, breathing!" Jack finally managed to gasp out.
The slim Asian girl let out a final growl before surrendering her grip. Jack staggered back towards a half refurbished motorcycle. Arcee stood and handed the girl over to Bulkhead.
"Look, I explained before," the fembot said irritably, "some government humans are coming to the base and they don't need to know about you. So, Optimus has ordered you kept away for now."
"Yeah, and it's not so bad. We can hang out here instead," Bulkhead offered. "I mean what could we do at the base that we can't do here?"
Bumblebee made a face and chirped at Raf who let out a laugh.
"Bee's right!" the smallest human declared, "At least here we don't have to listen to Ratchet complain about our noise."
"True that," the girl muttered. "But what do we do? All our video games are back at base. I'm so board!"
"You could help me and Arcee with the bike," Jack offered gesturing at the vintage cycle they'd discovered in the warehouse and were restoring.
Miko wrinkled her nose and pouted.
"Ugh, get my hands all oily and scratched up? No thank you!" she said disdainfully.
"Um, Bee and Bulkhead could link their comm. systems so we could game together," Raf offered.
"Boring!" the girl threw herself back onto a canvas covered pile and started coughing as a cloud of dust billowed up.
Arcee shuttered her optics for a moment and rubbed her forehead. It was going to be a long few hours.