Temerity
Part 3-Repairs
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.
"Sometimes solutions aren't so simple,
Sometimes good bye's the only way."
--Shadow of the Day, Linkin Park
Temerity-Unreasonable contempt of danger; extreme venturesomeness; rashness.
"It'll take at least a week before all the holes are patched up in the med bay walls. . ." Lennox said. He stopped, noticing Epps wasn't paying attention.
"What," Lennox asked. "Is wrong with you?"
"Couldn't we just put him out of our misery?" Epps said, staring off into space, chin propped up on his fist.
"Who?" Lennox asked.
"You know who. Head case. The creature from outer space," Epps said.
"He has a name," Lennox said.
"I'm not calling him by any name until he proves he's not crazy," Epps said.
"Look, with his weapons offlined, he can't do much damage. And if he so much as puts a hand on anyone, he will be restrained, or worse, offlined again, and he knows it. And right now, I don't think there's anything he fears more," Lennox said.
"He took out Ironhide, man. Ironhide."
Will sighed in frustration.
"I know. But he's going to be OK, and it taught him a lesson that he can't always rely on having the bigger gun. It was a good reminder they all need to be more cautious."
"Your friend got owned and you're not gonna do anything about it?" Epps said.
"Like what? He's new to the planet, recovering from injuries and being alone out there God only knows how long and if I'm any judge, he has the worst case of post-traumatic syndrome in the universe, so the answer to that would be a big, fat no."
Epps shook his head.
"You know, you're way too trusting. And I hope it doesn't come back to bite you in the ass," Epps said. With that, he grabbed his things, leaving Will alone.
--
Bumblebee peeked around the med bay entrance, unsure if he should go in. He wanted to see Ironhide and Jazz, and Sam and Mikaela wanted to meet Hot Rod. But the scout would only take the humans inside if Ratchet gave him the all-clear.
"C'mon," Sam said, pulling Mikaela inside and around Bumblebee. "Bumblebee, I know what you're thinking, and if it wasn't OK, do you think Ratchet would leave Jazz and Ironhide in here alone with him? Wouldn't like. . .I don't know, Optimus be standing guard or something?"
Mikaela watched Bumblebee's door wings droop. Sam was right.
"OK then, let's go," Sam said.
"I didn't say you could come in here," Ratchet said, stepping into their path.
"Can we? It's not dangerous or anything, is it?" Sam said.
"You get 10 minutes," Ratchet said. "And right now the only dangerous beings in this room are Mikaela and myself."
Sam raised an eyebrow, noticing Ratchet's gaze. The boy turned around, noticing both his guardian and girlfriend had struck virtually the same pose--arms crossed, but Mikaela's face held a look that could kill if she was so capable.
"10 minutes. Got it," Sam said, making straight for Jazz's berth.
The small silver mech was sitting up on the side of his berth, chatting with Ironhide. Jazz smiled, seeing his three friends.
"Missed an interesting couple of days around here," Jazz said.
"We heard," Bumblebee said. "How are you feeling, Ironhide?"
"Better once somebody finishes reattaching my canon," Ironhide said, glaring at Ratchet, who only smiled back.
"I've had more important repairs to attend to," Ratchet said. "And you know it."
"My aft," Ironhide said.
"More nonsense like that out of you and I will attach your precious canon to your aft," Ratchet said.
"You should just offline him again and sort it out later," Ironhide said. "Permanently works for me."
The two humans exchanged a glance.
"So. . ." Sam said.
Mikaela poked him in the arm.
"Where's Hot Rod?" she asked.
"Recharging in my quarters," Ratchet said. "Would you like to meet him?"
--
Ratchet went in first, surprised to find the young Autobot awake and sitting up.
"You have visitors," Ratchet said. "Bumblebee is with them. Do you feel up to this?"
Hot Rod nodded.
"Show any hostility and you will be offlined. Do I make myself clear?"
The optics flared in surprise, then settled down to a dimmer blue.
"You may come in," Ratchet said.
Sam entered first, followed by Mikaela and Bumblebee, who were being more cautious, considering what they'd been told over the past few days.
"The boy is Sam," Ratchet said. "Bumblebee is his guardian, and the girl is Mikaela. This is Hot Rod."
"Hey," Sam said.
Hot Rod tilted his head, thinking.
"You're human protoforms, aren't you?"
"Yes," Mikaela said, smiling. "Although I prefer 'teenager.'"
Hot Rod didn't respond, Ratchet noticed, as he was suddenly in rapid-fire conversation with Bumblebee. Their optics were dimmed, as they commed each other back and forth. Ratchet smiled, glad something was finally working out right.
As quickly as it started, the conversation ended, and the two young Autobots turned their attention back to the humans. The medic let them talk a few more minutes before escorting them out.
"You may see him again tomorrow, if he's up to it," Ratchet said.
"OK," Sam said. "We gotta go. Bye 'Ratch."
Ratchet watched them go, glad someone was ready to accept Hot Rod.
-----
"You moved him where?" Optimus said, incredulous.
"My quarters, at least for tonight. Are you deaf?" Ratchet said.
Prime pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.
"And he met Sam and Mikaela tonight."
"Are you trying to make me angry? Have I done something lately to earn your ire?" Prime said.
"No," Ratchet said. "Ironhide's been fairly aggressive today, and I thought it would be a good idea to remove Hot Rod to someplace where there would be less chance of a confrontation. My quarters are quiet, and Prowl was right across the hall all day, so I saw no problem with it."
"You should have consulted me first," Prime said.
"Last time I checked, I was in charge of all things medical, so I don't think I need to check with you," Ratchet replied.
Prime switched subjects.
"How is Hot Rod doing?"
"Better. He's downloaded the Internet, so he can communicate in English now, and his internal comm is working," Ratchet said. "He was easier to fix this time, although he still has a way to go."
"Has he said anything about the Vector?"
"Not in my hearing, although in his recharge, he's been talking, but I can't make it out. It's not in language I understand. And that's not all. He's been crying out. . .for Ultra Magnus."
Prime let that slide. "Is it a Cybertronian dialect?"
"I do not know. Does it matter?"
"No. I have another question. How do you think he was able to wake up?"
"Again, I have no explanation. He should have stayed down. The procedure should have worked," Ratchet said.
"Maybe he's stronger than you think," Prime said.
"Maybe."
-----
Jazz snuck out of the med bay. He was bored, which in his mind, meant he was feeling better. Ironhide wasn't good company since losing his canon, although Jazz figured his friend's pride was hurt more than anything else. He grinned at the thought. Injured, protoform, only one weapon Hot Rod broke through a forced stasis lock and carved up Ironhide. It wasn't funny, yet the sight of the canon falling off Ironhide's arm and the look on his face would be forever etched in his memory. Well, it was kind funny, because Ironhide had learned a very valuable lesson and Hot Rod was doing better, so it was all right. Sort of.
Right now though, he needed to see Optimus in private. He had information to share, but didn't want to do it with Ironhide or Ratchet around. Ratchet had an opinion on the matter because he had been involved, no matter what he said, even if it was only on the fringes. And Jazz had a little insight not even Ratchet could provide.
He entered Prime's quarters, didn't bother to knock because there was no door yet, only an open area with a berth and a makeshift desk, until they could bring more material down from the Ark. Jazz walked over to his leader's recharging form.
:You know, I could kill you in your sleep, as the humans say:
Prime shot off the berth, looking around.
Jazz melted out of the shadows, grinning.
"You need to be more careful," he said.
"What are you doing out of the med bay?"
"Got bored, and besides, we need to talk," Jazz said. "And I'm not doing it within hearing of Ironhide or Ratchet. I need to get out of here. Wanna take a drive?"
--
Jazz picked a nice, empty spot out in the desert, well away from the base. He transformed once they were far off the main road, and Optimus followed. Jazz sat down.
"Might as well get comfortable," he said.
Prime sat down across from his third in command.
"What is this about?" he asked.
"Hot Rod. I know something Ratchet doesn't."
"Then talk," Prime said.
"He was reassigned to special ops, right after he was cleared for duty. He settled down, did his job, ran quite a few solo missions, mainly sabotage and demolitions," Jazz said, pausing, letting Optimus know how serious the conversation was going to be, because special ops agents never revealed their work.
"Go on," Optimus said.
"For a while, I was a little concerned, considering all he did was request mission after mission, and he came back from everyone. Then he started to relax when Springer came back, so I stopped worrying. He was more like his old self, so I let it slide. But a few days before Tyger Pax I got a call from High Command saying Hot Rod was being transferred there. I called him into my office to tell him and when I did, he was livid. I've never seen him so angry. Then while he's in my office, Ultra Magnus comes to collect. I had a front row seat for that one," Jazz said.
"What happened next?"
"They forgot they had an audience, that's what. Hot Rod said he was finished, his debt was paid and started to leave. Magnus stopped him, yelled back that he had every right to call him out, that the plan had changed and Hot Rod had his orders," Jazz said. "When Hot Rod heard that, all the fight went out of him, and Magnus realized they weren't alone. They left, and that was the last time I saw Hot Rod until now."