Knight in Borrowed Armor 9
Change
A Transformers Prime Fanfic
"You must stay here until you learn to properly manage this body," Lady Monk was instructing the battered red mech.
"Lady, every minute I remain here increases the danger to them," Nitor protested.
They were in the base laboratory. June Darby was working on the many repairs the mech still required while Ratchet monitored the progress of the rest of team Prime. The nurse was listening carefully to the conversation as per the Laura's instructions but she felt every bit as bewildered as before.
"True as that may be, you would be a far greater danger to them on your own and untrained," countered the woman. "If the others find you out they will not rest until they discover the source of your shell. If that happens…" She trailed off meaningfully.
"If that happens; the human death toll will be catastrophic," Nitor finished grimly, "and the Cybertronians would be slain to a bot."
The mech winced as the wrench June was wielding dropped from her hands. The woman gaped at Nitor in shock. She knew, he was telling the truth. She wasn't certain how, but she knew. She hastily apologized and scooped up the tool. It was the strange sensations she was experiencing that were unsettling her as much as the words. She had never been the kind that followed, or even had sudden leaps of intuition. But ever since the bond had formed with Nito they had been coming fast ans frequently. What disturbed her most was that she wasn't questioning them. The warrior seemed to sense her inner turmoil. He reached over gently and rested a hand on her back.
"My Lady," he said in a low voice. "There is much we must speak of and soon. But not in this place."
She nodded and took a breath. The logical part of her brain was screaming at her to pull her guard up; to not place so much trust in the comparative stranger. She looked up into the golden optics, and for the first time in many years felt completely safe.
"Nurse Darby!" Ratchet's voice cut through the sudden silence; solid and familiar.
"Ratchet!" she responded.
"Prepare the mesh patch kit and one point five cubes of emergency energon," the medibot instructed curtly without turning from this station.
June nodded and gave Nitor one quick pat of reassurance before heading for the storage area. Relief was sitting easily on her shoulders. Such a small order meant only minor injuries. The bots would all come back through the bridge, one at a time they would submit to Ratchet's tender mercies, and then Optimus would finally sit down and allow the medic to tend to him.
She gathered the necessary items and brought them back to the medibay. Nitor was standing easily beside the examination table speaking softly with the Lady Monk. Laura, June corrected herself. It just felt wrong somehow to call the dignified woman by her first name, despite her request.
Bumblebee strode into the room chirping happily when his optics fell on Mrs. Darby. He gave her a quick thumbs up sign; their personal signal that Ratchet had given the youngest bot permission to have the woman tend to his injuries. He knelt down so she could run the scanner over him. As usual, the yellow scout had a variety of minor abrasions, mostly confined to his arms and legs. June chatted softly at him as she cleaned the area and applied the artimesh. Even though they both knew she couldn't understand his replies the mech whistled back cheerfully. Neither Bulkhead nor Arcee had any injuries worth repairing and Optimus too had escaped damage.
Once he was certain that all of his team was safe Optimus returned to the matter of Nitor. June noticed that the warrior seemed to have accepted that he would be staying with the Autobots for the foreseeable future. Optimus was immediately welcoming. Bumblebee had immediately warmed up to the newcomer. Bulkhead was slightly more cautious. Ratchet was still stiff and a bit harsh with the red mech. The woman smiled to herself as she watched him growling over the welding. Like most old doctors he didn't react well to things he didn't understand and couldn't control.
Still the old mech dove into the task of repairing the injured warrior. Hours passed as he and Nurse Darby replaced burst lines, repaired damaged joints, and welded brittle mesh. At one point the medic let out a snarl of frustration and slammed a fist into his other palm.
"This is impossible!" Ratchet exclaimed.
"What is it old friend?" Optimus asked in concern.
"There isn't a drop of energon in this chassis, but it is functioning as if there is," the medic growled. "I know for a fact that he hasn't received a joule of fresh energy since he arrived here but his systems continue to act as if he's receiving a steady supply."
Nitor blinked in surprise and opened his mouth as if to speak. The Lady Monk shot him a sharp look. The mech hesitated, but continued.
"I know you have little reason to place faith in me after so short a time together," he began seriously. "In the days which will follow I can only hope to earn such a trust so that you will be content with my word that there is neither dishonor nor danger in the source of my life."
Optimus considered this for a moment.
"As you say," the Autobot finally replied, "such trust will take time to build. Meanwhile we must discuss you training."
"Ah, ah, ah!" Ratchet interjected. "After we're done with him."
"Indeed," the Prime said with a suppressed smile. No matter his personal feelings on the matter the medic always put the needs of his patients first.
Once the red and white medibot grudgingly released the mech Bumblebee immediately offered to begin coaching Nitor in melee tactics. An offer the warrior gladly accepted. However before they started he went off in search of the blue female who had seemed so affected by his appearance. The red mech found Arcee at the cave entrance, pacing irritably.
"So, have you decided to stay?" she asked curtly when she saw him.
"For the time being," he replied, "until I can master this body."
"Why are you in such a hurry to leave?" the cyclebot asked archly.
Nitor didn't answer at first. He stared into the distance as if the stone walls were transparent.
"Life is a winding journey," he finally said, "In my life span I have served in many ways; most recently as a warrior. To defend my lady from her enemies was my duty then. Now my path is less clear, and yet one's duty is always there if only you search for it. For now my duty calls me to serve here. Soon, perhaps very soon it will call me away. As much respect I have for what you are doing; I do not believe that it is the creator's will for me to assist you in defending the humans in this way."
"You do realize what will happen if Megatron has his way?" Arcee asked, annoyed at his seemingly casual dismissal of their war.
"He will enslave the humans," Nitor replied calmly.
"And that isn't a problem big enough to require you attention?" the blue femebot demanded.
"To be enslaved," the mech said calmly, "there is no shame in that. There is always someone in the universe stronger than you. Humanity knows this and they are prepared."
"Prepared to be enslaved?" the Autobots repeated incredulously.
"Yes," the mech replied. He hesitated, unsure how much he dared tell this one. "They have done it one to another many times. Believe me when I tell you that the greater danger to self lies in wait for the so called master. Humans make dangerous slaves. They will only bide their time until the soul of the conqueror had withered to the point that they may crush it."
"You would allow the suffering, the death, that the conquest of this world to happen all around you without doing a thing to prevent it?" she hissed at him. There was a fury building to a head inside Arcee. The rage at Cliff's death came sweeping back. How dare this coward lay claim to his body?
"We may be strangers to this planet, but Jack, his mother, ALL the humans are under our protection now," she shoved the mech against the wall. "We won't let anything happen to them. If you are too frightened to be a part of that; fine, run. But don't get in our way."
She didn't know what response she expected from the mech; maybe he would fight back or try to defend his courage. The blue Autobot was completely unprepared for the look of gentle compassion that shined down on her upturned faceplates. All the wisdom of the Primes seemed to be looking down at her. The seconds stretched past and he didn't speak. Arcee began to shake. She knew she was losing control; in front of a stranger no less and she hated it. But under that kind gaze she felt all her rigid discipline melt away and the cyclebot let herself lean into the comforting warmth of his chest plates. Nitor slipped his arms around her and held the trembling warrior until her shaking stopped.
"I am sorry," he said softly.
"For what?" Arcee asked, not lifting her head.
"That my appearance causes you such pain."
The Autobot didn't respond to this. There was nothing she could think of to say. Finally she pulled away embarrassed by her lack of control.
"Your current form," the red mech said thoughtfully, reaching out to gently stroke her helm spike.
Arcee flinched slightly at the too intimate touch and made a mental note to have Optimus speak to the mech about personal space.
"What about it?" she asked.
"You are imitating the form of one of the machines of this planet, are you not?"
"Yes, a motorcycle."
"But you are not of this planet?"
"No, we're from a world called Cybertron, far from here."
"So you changed your outer appearance in order to blend in here? Cliffjumper did this as well?"
"Yes," Arcee replied, a bit confused but reminded herself that the things she took for granted were completely unknown to this mech.
"Could I do this a second time?" he asked.
"I don't see why not," she replied. "If the doctor says you're fully repaired you should be able to scan any vehicle on the planet."
The red mech looked at her seriously.
"Would it be easier for you if I were to change forms thus?"
Arcee stiffened. Her mind raced through a dozen possible answers. Finally she nodded her head.
"Yes," she whispered.
"Then let it be done," Nitor said firmly. He turned and headed back into the base.
June glanced up from gathering up her things as the sound of Cybertronian footsteps filled the silo.
"Lady Darby," Nitor's strong voice rang out, "I require the use of your car."
"My car?" the woman asked in surprise glancing inquiringly at Laura, who only shrugged.
"Yes, I wish to exchange this form for that of your vehicle."
"Why do you want to do that?" Ratchet demanded. "Cliffjumper's old alt mode is perfectly serviceable."
"There are several reasons," the red mech said truthfully. "But most pertinent to the situation, I wish to be less conspicuous. This bright red form is; how did Agent Fowler put it? 'An eye catching hotrod'. It is my desire to blend in with the current population and I strongly suspect that Lady Darby's white vehicle is a more common and sensible 'ride'."
Optimus saw the grateful look in Arcee's optics and divined another reason for the red mech's sudden determination.
"Well, if you have the energy it should be easy to download the proper programming into your CPU," the medibot mused. "But as for the color I will have to give you an entirely new paint job. We can begin immediately as we should really do that first." He would never admit it but the doctor was as disturbed as anybot to see his old comrade walking around again, knowing it wasn't truly him. He ran a scan beam over the white sedan and saved that data.
"There, I'll download it to you once you're ready," he said to Nitor.
"Well, you mechs have fun," Mrs. Darby called from the car in question. "Laura and I are headed over to my place. We'll be explaining this al to the children when we get there."
"Who will be protecting you?" Nitor inquired worriedly.
"I am usually the closest because I'm Jack's guardian," Arcee offered, "but we all keep an optic on June."
"I see," the red mech murmured, but there was still a worried look in his optics as the two women pulled out of the silo.
"Don't worry," Ratchet said, "No one will be getting hurt with Arcee on the job."
"Ow! That hurt." Jack exclaimed rubbing his arm. "Hey Arcee, aren't you supposed to be my guardian?"
"Sorry partner," the cyclebot said with a grin leaning back against a support beam in the old warehouse. "There are some things you just have to handle on your own. She's one of them."
The 'she' in question was readying a handy stick of wood for another swing at the young man.
"There was something cooler than a zombie bot in the base and you didn't tell me?" Miko demanded.
Jack dodged and caught the thin plank in one hand.
"Hey, I was under orders!"
"Miko!" the tone of Mrs. Darby's voice stopped the girl while she was trying to wrench the stick away from Jack. "There is such a thing as personal privacy. What was going on was none of your business. Now please stop assaulting my son and load up."
"Ick! Non-transforming car," Miko glared at the white sedan. "Where's Bulk?"
"He's on a scouting mission," Arcee offered, "and before you ask no you may not ride with Jack."
"Why not?" Miko whined as Raf scrambled into the back seat and began chatting with the interesting woman who had arrived at the warehouse with Mrs. Darby.
Arcee only glared at the girl.
"Oh yeah, 'the Incident'," Miko muttered rubbing one elbow as she glanced away. Jack may have forgiven her but his guardian had forbidden her from bumming rides for the foreseeable future. Meekly she climbed into the white, depressingly non-transforming car.