Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers in any way, shape, or form.
Rated PG-16 for really, really painful medical procedures, angst, and cursing.
Just an FYI: A "carrying tank" is situated in the lower abdomen. This is where the "spark" forms. The "carrying hold" is situated in the chest by the femme's spark. The newly created "sparkling" – which is a basic frame, spark box, wires, basic memory, and basic fuel processing unit – is carried there until it is strong enough for the extras to be integrated into its systems. The extras consist of more motor cables and such, boosting the sparkling's ability to be in the outside environment. Before it is upgraded, however, the femme will do everything for the sparkling, including processing the fuel for it, regulating its temperature, and stimulating the sparkling. Basically, it's still developing and it's still dependent on the femme.
And I wish I could go more in depth.
Carrying belongs to Litahatchee. :)
The EMP blast idea belongs to TF:Animated.
Elita felt her spark freeze in its casing as Ratchet hurried out of the surgical bay. What was happening now? Moon Racer rose from her perch, shrugging at Elita. She had just been kicked out, now Red Alert wanted her back in the room? As strange as the mech's actions had been, she dared not question him and hurried into the room.
"Elita, Chromia, and Epsilon, please come with me," Ratchet said. Though he felt like shaking like a terrified youngling, his voice and body betrayed none of his fear. He seemed almost at ease, his voice cool and serene. Chromia, Elita, and Epsilon followed Ratchet into the room.
Moon Racer was setting up another round of energon into the femme's fuel lines, trying to rouse Nightshade from her stasis lock. For a long minute, the femme did not stir, but eventually, her optics powered up. Almost instantly, she cried out and clutched at her abdomen, muttering obscenities under her breath. Moon Racer shrugged at Elita once more. What was going on? The door shut behind the trio. The accelerant cocktail had done wonders for Nightshade – her spark was flaring quickly and erratically, but at least it was back up to its normal strength, and it would stay that way with a bit of luck.
"Elita, would you please call Day Lily down here?"
"Alright," Elita said, her confusion growing by the moment. What the slagwas going on? She fell silent as Red Alert hurried back into the room, carrying a bundle of some kind. Even though the bundle was wrapped up firmly, she could see something metallic glinting as Red Alert hurried past her. Then she realized what it was. Elita covered her mouth with her hands, now fully understanding why the mechs in the room were so urgent. Feeling more useless than ever, she hovered in the background, wondering what exactly she was supposed to do.
Epsilon hovered beside Nightshade, torn between comforting the femme and launching herself into Chromia's arms. Nightshade's pained whimpers grew louder and Epsilon decided that comforting her mentor was more important. Epsilon stood beside Ratchet, holding Nightshade's hand and doing her best to soothe and ease Nightshade's pain.
"Back up, Epsilon," Red Alert said, sterilizing his hands quickly. The energon leak had stopped and the poison had been flushed from her systems, but Nightshade was now even more poorly energized. At a loss of what to do, the other three femmes hung back in the corner, with Epsilon clinging to Chromia. Ratchet and Moon Racer darted around one another, setting up equipment and soothing the whimpering femme gently.
"Ratchet, what's going on," Chromia asked quietly, allowing Epsilon to bury her face into her shoulder. Ratchet froze and stared at the femmes.
"Nightshade didn't tell you?"
"I was going to do it at the party – fragthat hurts, Red Alert! Warn a femme next time, would you?! – but I guess it can't wait until then," Nightshade grunted softly, clutching Ratchet's hand so tightly that the gears in his hand whined in protest. The accelerant had pretty much jumpstarted her spark – and inflamed her temper.
"What can't wait until then…oh!"
Chromia fell silent as Red Alert unwrapped the bundle and removed the contents. Epsilon's optics widened in surprise and shock, her mouth moving silently. Elita gasped as he gently lifted the sparkling's shell from the blankets, setting it down on a table beside Nightshade. Chromia's optics widened and the femmes stared at one another, at a loss of what to do. Elita finally led the way – she had been present for one sparkling's online. She and the other femmes in the room were supposed to guide Nightshade through the process.
The only problem was that not a single femme in the room had ever given birth to a sparkling before. Nightshade let out an audio splitting scream as the pain intensified. Chromia clutched at Nightshade's other hand, soothingly rubbing her arm. Moon Racer, having overcome her shock, went and gathered the supplies Red Alert had asked for. Elita and Epsilon hovered nearby, watching anxiously as Red Alert began gently probing Nightshade's abdomen. He shook his head subtly to Ratchet, who shuttered his optics.
"What's the matter," Elita snapped, rubbing Nightshade's shoulder gently. Red Alert sighed gently.
"The inducing agent isn't working how it should be. Her body isn't reacting to it. We're going to have to go in and remove it manually. It's going to hurt, Nightshade, but I need you to cooperate with me," Red Alert said. The regular 'birthing' process normally wasn't too painful – the femme's abdominal scales would loosen enough to be pushed out of the way to expose her carrying tank. The carrying tank itself would have been relatively easy to open. Removing the sparkling was normally done with a set of 'tongs', but since they were delivering the sparkling over three months early, Red Alert would have to do everything for her body.
Nightshade let out a pitiful whimper as Red Alert moved closer, a cutting device in his hands. Red Alert looked at the frightened femme and sighed gently.
"Nightshade, I can't give you painkillers. You need to be able to feel what's happening so you'll know if something goes wrong," he said gently, placing a comforting hand on her leg, "But you can turn your pain receptors down to fifty percent. That's all I can allow you to do."
Nightshade nodded feebly, shuttering her optics as Red Alert sat down beside her. The medic strapped her legs down, avoiding optic contact with her. Red Alert had only done something like once and it hadn't been pretty. The femme had shorted out her vocal processors before attacking him.
"Where are her creators," Ratchet asked Elita quietly, desperately hoping that someone who knew what they were doing would show up.
"On their way," Elita said softly, watching Red Alert sterilize Nightshade's abdomen. Ratchet shooed Elita out of the way, holding Nightshade's hand and allowing her to bury her face into his shoulder. There was hurried pounding on the door and Epsilon turned. She let them in. A very calm and collected Day Lily led a fritzed out Crosswise into the room. As soon as she walked into the room, Day Lily knew exactly what was going to happen to Nightshade. Day Lily clucked softly, knowing fully well just how painful it was going to be. Chromia moved out of the way and Day Lily stood on Nightshade's other side, stroking her arm and shoulder soothingly.
Red Alert picked up the cutting tool and Ratchet pulled Nightshade's face into his chest so that she wouldn't see. He could feel her shaking in his arms and it was all he could do not to shake along with her. Red Alert nodded to Ratchet, who turned his head away. He lowered the device and began to cut away the metal. Nightshade tensed and began whimpering quietly. Day Lily continued her rhythmic stroking of Nightshade's arm, her soft comforting clicks never wavering.
Red Alert pulled the metal away, ignoring her shrill cry of protest. Beneath her armor lay her shell and he raised the tool once more. He began to cut the metal away, his hand and demeanor steady. Nightshade screamed, struggling against Ratchet's grip. He held her more tightly, whispering his apologies over and over, begging her to forgive him.
Finally, Red Alert managed to finish cutting away the metal, peeling it backwards. He winced as he saw what had happened inside of her abdomen. Her body had recognized the poison as something that didn't belong in there and had booted up antiviral software. The problem was that the nanites also attacked her sparkling. If it would have succeeded, the sparkling would have been broken down. Thankfully, Nightshade managed to keep her firewalls up long enough for her body to relent in its attack. The nanites had clogged a fuel line and it had ruptured, thus causing the major energon leak. Her systems managed to seal it off before the energy loss was too great. Red Alert gently pushed the bundles of wires out of the way, placing a thick seal over the jagged mark.
Then he gently pressed on her carrying tank, gauging how far along her body was in reacting to the inducing agent. To his immense relief, it opened on its own, earning a squeak of surprise from Nightshade. The sparkling, however, was another matter entirely. If she had carried it for the full six months, the sparkling's mass would have pushed the wires in her abdomen out of the way, creating a sort of 'nest' that was quite easy to access. Nightshade's sparkling was tangled within the many wires and lines that crisscrossed her carrying tank. He shuttered his optics, weighing his options. He could try to use the tongs to pull it out, but there was the very likely possibility that the tongs would cut or tear the wires. She would never conceive again. If he used his hand, however, to gently push the wires and lines out of the way, he could create a pocket for the sparkling to be removed.
Red Alert stood up and went back to the sink, sterilizing his hands once more. He nodded to Moon Racer, who immediately began sterilizing the sparkling's shell and spark casing. She pushed the table closer before parting the chest plates and opening its spark box. Nightshade gave a mighty shudder. Ratchet winced as her fingers tightened around him, leaving finger shaped dents. Ratchet looked down into his mate's carrying tank and realized what Red had to do to save them both. He gently wrapped his presence around her spark, easing her pain the best that he could.
Nightshade shuddered again, knowing that the worst was yet to come. Day Lily whispered quietly.
"Nightshade, you need to relax. Red Alert is doing everything possible that he can to get the sparkling out and into its shell. It will go by faster if you take down your self defense systems," Day Lily said, kissing the top of her daughter's head. Ratchet nodded, surprised that Day Lily knew what to do. Nightshade obeyed, feeling strangely vulnerable without the familiar vibrating energy coursing through her shell.
Red Alert came back and sat down.
"Nightshade, this is going to hurt like the dickens, but you need to stay still. If I slip, your carrying abilities could be damaged," Red Alert said. Nightshade gave him a weak, cheeky grin and winked.
"Bring it on, Red," she whispered tiredly, shuttering her optics. Red Alert nodded to Ratchet, who resumed his tight grip around her upper body. Red Alert shuttered his optics and sent a quick prayer upwards before moving. He also sent a text out around the room, warning the occupants to turn their audios down to ten percent receiving capability. Once they had obeyed, Red Alert moved.
One hand gently pushed against the bare, sensitive wires in her abdomen, the other moving further into the buffer fluid to retrieve the spark. Nightshade let out a mighty shriek, tensing. Red Alert had to give her points though, for she obeyed and did not move an inch. He found the spark cowering in the very back of the femme's carrying tanks. He tried to scoop it up gently, earning another scream from Nightshade, along with a few very nasty curses and threats to his health if he did not move faster.
"Fraggit, Ratchet, this is all your fault," she bellowed, wincing as Red Alert continued trying to corner the little spark, "I'm going to fragging remove your interface port and never mate with you again!"
Ratchet only soothed her gently. He knew better than to take offense to her threat. She was in severe pain. If spouting threats to his interface appliance eased her pain, so be it. He was ready to give her a welder and tell her to have at it, if it made her feel any better.
"RED ALERT! Inferno won't be a happy mech if you don't move your arse! You'll be joining Ratchet on the 'no-interface-port' list!" She shrieked again, her hand tightening around Ratchet's.
Red Alert smiled at the femme's cheeky and rather creative threats, moving faster for both her sake and his. He finally managed to scoop the spark into his hand. Red Alert withdrew from her carrying tanks, cradling the spark in a metallic blanket. In that instant, her physical link to the sparkling was broken. Nightshade instantly began squirming – where was her sparkling? Where was he taking it?
She didn't even notice Moon Racer shutting her carrying tank, or gently working her shell back into place and welding it back together. She didn't notice the heat of the welding torch on her armor, or the sting of the sterilizing solution Moon Racer cleaned her off with. All she wanted was her sparkling, and she wanted it now. Its presence faded as Red Alert moved toward the table and Nightshade began panicking, struggling against Ratchet. She couldn't see the spark in Red Alert's hands, causing her spark to flutter painfully against its casing. Ratchet grunted softly as Nightshade elbowed him, her struggles growing stronger as Red Alert hovered over the sparkling's shell.
"Nightshade, the sparkling is fine, Red won't harm it," Ratchet said firmly, trying to break her from her panic induced flailing. Nightshade whined softly as her mate finally managed to get through to her and she ceased her struggling, but continued her panicked calls to her sparkling through their bond. She trusted her mate and his judgment, she honestly did, but her child came first, and she couldn't feel its presence within her any more.
Red Alert held the spark out to the spark case. It did not move except to cling to his hand, almost as though it was begging to be put back into its original home. The spark emitted a few weak flashes of light, appearing to be confused. It didn't move. Red Alert held it closer to the box but it still wouldn't move in. He gingerly tipped his hand upwards, watching as the spark finally shot into the box. Wires and lines instantaneously wrapped around the box, protecting the little spark. He immediately wrapped it in another blanket.
Nightshade struggled against Ratchet once more when Red Alert turned and she could see Red Alert cradling the sparkling in his outstretched hands, the both of which suddenly appeared too big for her liking. Red Alert cautiously approached her and held the sparkling to her. Nightshade latched onto her child, clutching it to her chest and clicking softly. The others in the room withdrew to a safe distance, watching with bated breath. Nightshade clutched at its fingers, clicking softly.
It didn't move. Nightshade clicked softly, trying to urge her sparkling into moving. Ratchet's grip around her tightened as he sagged against her. Red Alert moved closer, trying his best to remain professional and distant. It was spark breaking to watch the small blue femme trying to rouse the motionless shell. Red Alert placed one hand on Ratchet's shoulder. Ratchet looked up at him and Red Alert shook his head. If the sparkling hadn't taken to its shell by now, there wasn't any reason to let Nightshade try and bond with it.
"Please…go," Nightshade whispered quietly, staring down at the tiny frame lying in her arms. She could feel its spark flickering, she could feel it fighting to live and she'd be damned if she let anyone in the room interfere with their bonding. A weak presence latched onto hers and she shuttered her optics, leaning over the motionless sparkling in her arms. If it lived for just a few more minutes, just long enough for its body to start processing…maybe it would have a chance.
Red Alert, having assumed the worst, ushered everyone else out of the room. He remained in the doorway, standing guard over the occupants of the room.
I hate sunburns. :P
Did everyone have a happy Fourth of July? (If you celebrate it, that is.)