Chapter 7
The team was driving away from the hospital to the press conference that had been forced upon them by the Guard, who wanted to control the flow of information before speculation took over. The full team, minus Ratchet, Perceptor, and Ultra Magnus, was speeding through traffic when Optimus got the strangest comlink he would get for long time.
"Jazz, I don't think that's a good idea," said Optimus, "the last thing we need is to see Sari dismantled two clicks after she went offline."
"I hear that," agreed Jazz, "but those are Alpha's orders. As much as we want to, we can't just bail on them."
"Have you spoken with Ratchet yet?"
"Sorry OP, been stuck here with Trion," replied the beatnik, "he's pretty fragged with Perceptor right now."
"Why's that?"
"Wish I knew."
"Well, keep an eye on him. I'll see if I can contact Ratchet."
"Will do. Jazz, out."
The comlink clicked off and he switched to Ratchet's comlink, making sure to patch him to the others.
"What is it, Prime?" asked Ratchet through the comlink.
"Alpha Trion wants us at the morgue," said Prime, "apparently there was some sort of breakthrough with Sari's shell and we are all needed."
"That's ridiculous," scoffed the veteran, "you left, what? A megacycle ago? Even Perceptor would have a hard time getting past Sari's scaled armor in such short time. The pieces are too small to be removed in a single plate without destroying them and Perceptor is far too meticulous to rush that kind of job."
"You know, she was chatting with us ten megacycles ago," said Bumblebee bitterly, "you don't have to talk about her like a science experiment."
"You deal your way and I have my ways," snapped Ratchet, "I've lost more friends and comrades than I care to count."
"So it gets easier?" asked Bulkhead from the right.
"You deal with it," replied the old mech, "and after a few stellar cycles you can go a couple of megacycles without thinking about them. I can only hope I won't live long enough to let it get easy."
The team was silent for a moment, brooding on Ratchet's words. Excluding Optimus, few of them could honestly say that they had ever thought about what Ratchet had been through in the Great War. Two years and the younger bots though they had seen the worst that a sentient being could do. They had forgotten that Ratchet had lived much longer than anyone there.
"Screw this," growled Bumblebee before he launched himself across four lanes and into the lane that led back to the hospital, leaving tire marks across the highway, "you mechs coming?"
Lickety-Split dutifully followed the same way after a second as did the rest of the team. Once they found a U-turn, that is.
"Interesting," said Perceptor, "cold energon ion blades. Only two molecules thick."
After forcing a transformation, the mech stripped Sari's chest armor to access the empty spark chamber. He then plugged in energon lines and connected her neural links to a control computer and propped her up under the armpits on a small stand. He had thought that he'd have to open her skull to access her processor but had been pleasantly surprised to discover that her antennae doubled as data ports by opening them lengthwise. He'd then used a simple operation to remove the energon bypasses Ratchet had installed to block out the more interesting upgrades.
"A personal transwarp storage dimension with an access port in each gauntlet," he noticed as a small pile of credits piled out of the gauntlet, "dual skyboom shields, multiple visors for different light spectrum analysis, ion blades modified for locomotion, micron booster jump jets, short range flight capabilities, subdividing servos, built in diagnostics tools, instant scanning, and a built-in primary weapon. Four decacycles after starting the operation, the shell designated as Sari Sumdac is now ready for an extraction of the main transformation cog."
He removed a few scales under the chest plating with tweezers and pulled the T-Cog out of its casing to scan it with his shoulder cannon/high power optic. He blinked and scanned it again.
"Not possible," yet the evidence was right in front of him.
He had thought that some of these designs looked familiar, but it defied all reason. Perceptor had personally overseen their destruction.
Now he had to make a choice.
It would be risky if anyone else found the technorganic for various reasons. Apart from the fact that it was disproportionately powerful, it couldn't be known that he had ever tampered with this kind of technology. He was already neck strut deep in slag from the recent discovery of the inner workings of the Magnus Hammer since Alpha Trion could not understand the necessity of such technology. He and the rest of the Council were still tied down by prioritizing emotional health over logical conclusions, a defect he would correct if the limitations set by his former self would not prohibit them. He did not understand these limitations, which was odd since he could remember having understood them in the past.
Either way, a simple fact was obvious.
The technorganic must be destroyed.
He would have considered simply disposing of her through the incinerator, but it would be an unnecessary effort that would only serve to anger the mech that would most likely become the next Magnus.
No, the technorganic would be recycled soon anyways. No sense in dropping a gifted cube.
Then, of course, something had to ruin his plans.
"Perceptor!"
Or rather someone.
"There we go, try it now sir," said First Aid.
Ultra Magnus flexed his new arm, cringing at the parts where the new servos caught momentarily.
"Try not to move it too much yet and do NOT use your personal mods until the next solar cycle," warned the pink surgeon as she welded the armor back on, "give it some time for the servos to smooth out and the energon to flow. Your CNA and your repair systems should adapt the new arm to your frame in no time."
"Needs some breaking in," he admitted, "but excellent job First Aid."
"Thank you, sir. Now about your stabilizing servos… they were a bit trickier since we had to replace half the nanoservos but you should be walking by the time Moon Base 2 rises."
"Excellent," said the older mech as he wheeled himself to the door, "are you certain you don't want to reconsider my offer to put you in a field team?"
"Oh no no no," stuttered First Aid as the door slid open, "That's a bit more excitement than- Doctor Ratchet? Is something wrong?"
The aforementioned mech had just stormed past the open door, grumbling under his vents. The grumbling was fairly normal and few could remember a single decacycle in which he didn't grumble. Storming, however, should have been a bit trickier for a mech that allegedly had worn gears in his knees and ankles.
"Huh? Oh, nothing. Just some idiot beating a dead 'con," he grumbled, "Ultra Magnus, you wouldn't happen to know anything about Keys, would you?"
"Keys? Did you lock yourself out of your home?"
"Of course not! I use a code pad!" snapped Ratchet, "Jazz was going on that Perceptor locked himself into the autopsy room with Sari's shell and the key. Said she was still alive."
Ultra Magnus started. Coincidence? No, Perceptor is far too logical to react this way to a simple medical error. Something else is afoot.
"Where is the autopsy room?" asked the larger mech, "I need to see this for myself."
"Open this door right now, Perceptor!" yelled Alpha Trion as he hit the door with his sword again, "Why are these doors so hard to open!?"
"Ever hear of part theft?" asked Ratchet as he rounded the corner with Ultra Magnus and First Aid on his tail, "Now what is this all about?"
"Ratchet! Do you have access to this door?" asked Alpha Trion.
"Of course I do, I'm a doctor," snapped the old mech.
"Good, now open-."
"No," cut in Ratchet, "a good friend of mine is in there being dissected. I have no desire of remembering Sari like that."
"Ultra Magnus!" snapped a new voice as Vector Prime stormed in on his bipedal mode with his intern following closely, "I knew you were behind this you pumped up, overmoded pile of junkyard scrap!"
"Sir, that's the reigning Magnus!" squeaked Glyph, "He controls our funding!"
"I don't care if he's Primus' right claw!" snapped Vector, "Where did you two fraggers hide the minicon!?"
"She's in autopsy," said Ratchet, "Perceptor is-."
"Perceptor!?" yelled Vector as he switched back to his tetrapod mode, "You left her in there with HIM!?"
"Yes, we need to find out what-." Ratchet was interrupted by the clanging of metal parts shifting away from Vector's back to reveal a set of two massive, hexagonally tipped, shoulder mounted positron cannons.
"MOVE!" he shouted as the massive blasters hummed to life and he aligned his four pedes into firing position.
The crowd wisely obeyed.
Bumblebee and Lickety-Split were less than a click away when they first noticed the smoke coming from the hospital. Despite not being fully recovered, Bumblebee fired his boosters, rapidly reaching top speed.
"WAIT!" Cried a voice into his comlink. He tilted his rearview and noticed he had left Lickety-Split behind.
He simultaneously hit the brakes and reversed the boosters to let her catch up before opening his trunk.
"Transform your arms out and grab onto my aft!"
"WHAT!?" Cried the scandalized young femme.
"JUST DO IT!"
Split hastily transformed her arms out over her front wheels and grabbed onto Bumblebee's seats.
"HOLD ON TIGHT!"
He fired the boosters back up and towed the screaming femme at top speed.