Chapter 8

17th December

Chronometres had just clicked passed zero hundred hours. Sunstreaker had been missing for at least 15 hours and his brother was livid with what he was claiming was the ineptitude of those around him to locate and treat his twin. He was rather annoyed at the young medic who he blamed for not picking up this issue sooner.

The red twin had chased after his brother who tore a conduit through unsuspecting Autobots. He refused to listen to reason and actually turned and threw Wheelie at the ceiling above his twin; the force of the minibot hitting the support beam caused it to fracture and brought down several large panels. The little rhyming snot was still online, and Sunstreaker hadn't killed anyone, but the senior officers were, the red twin knew, discussing "extreme" measures to put a stop to the warrior.

Of course, with all that was said and done, whether to his face or behind closed doors, Sunstreaker was still on the run and hadn't been seen since midday.

In the days of Optimus any wayward Autobot, no matter how mentally damaged or how far they were questioning their loyalty to the cause, Prime would seek them out with intent to help them, and none of that help meant a blast through the CPU. Red Alert had surely proven Optimus' patience in regards to that. But Rodimus was not in full control, there were powers behind them were pulling strings and nudging him towards certain decisions. The twin oftentimes wondered if Optimus ever imagined that when he gave the prophecy of an Autobot rising from the ranks that said schleb would end up a mere puppet of stronger forces.

Sideswipe turned a sharp corner almost causing two humans to slam their vehicles into the side of a bus. The twin was less then concerned and continued at speed down the main street of the human city. There were a series of car washes and upgrade centres ear by that vainer of the two was prone to visiting. Sunstreaker sure as the pit was hot didn't think too highly of humans but he did appreciate some of their finer tastes concerning "pimping" their rides. The warrior hoped his brother would be there. That he could find him. And that he could talk him into returning to the city for the meds to run a full systems check and try and repair whatever damage was afflicting his CPU.

--

Once First Aid had assured the red twin that his expertise was best placed in the repair bay then out scouring the streets looking for Sunstreaker, he was able to get back to sorting out the problem might be. He had mountains of digipads with case studies and systems manuals with the troubleshooting sections open, there was also the multiple scans of the vainer twin lying about the table. It certainly was a difficult situation. It was times like this that he half expected his mentor to come barging in swearing and cursing and threatening and waving his arms around and then sorting everything out.

A machine behind him beeped, the young medic turned and approached it, removing his cup of hot oil broth from the dispenser. He took a sip, enjoying the thickly solution and the pleasant taste. Spike had once asked if they got bored drinking the same fuel, without any variation. What the young human didn't seem to realise was that different fuels and energon had different tastes. Something created from fossil fuels, as the humans termed them, had had a really rich, "gamey" taste, it was a nicely pungent aroma with a strong hearty texture and was particularly rich, providing satisfaction, a feeling of fullness and was definitely a "comfort fuel". Energon from a solar energy source was a lot lighter and fresher, it seemed to make you feel that everything was right with your servos and it was certainly much better for you. Hydro power provided an energon type that was good as a palate cleanser. Then there was coal produced energon, which was disgusting, no matter how many times it was refined or how many additives were merged with it, it still had a gritty, dirty taste, it was gluggy with an overpowering sickening sensation as it passed down the fuel line to the tank. It was also had a corrupting influence on the systems, it would deposit those tiny gritty pieces along the fuel lines and in the major structures and circuitry. The process could be likened to arteriosclerosis in humans. It was like McD's for machines.

The young medic placed his mug down on the table and decided to go look through the medical journals Perceptor had on file, maybe something in there could give him some ideas as to the twin. He turned and walked towards the door when suddenly a loud thud rung out. He spun around and found his mug on the floor, the warm oil spreading out from it. He sighed and walked back over to it; grabbing a rag he knelt down and began to clean it up. Strange, he thought, he'd made sure the mug was well away from the edge to avoid just this possibility.

After wiping it up, he picked up the mug and went to the sink, it was while he was standing there rinsing the mug clean that a loud series of thumps rung out. His fuel pumped stopped momentarily with the shock before it began racing, he turned back around and saw the digipads on the table falling onto the floor. What frightened him more then anything, was that one at the time they were slowly scraping along the desk, their edges scratching so loudly the screech they made was offensive to his audios, slowly, one at a time, they slid from their position and onto the floor.

"Who… who's there…. I'll… I'll… I'll…."

Suddenly, one of the digipads slammed into the wall next to his head. Then another came flying at him, he managed to duck from its trajectory and the piece of metal smacked into the oil dispenser, knocking the on switch, causing the hot oil to pour out.

The young doctor decided against taking his chances with whatever was causing this and rushed out the door into the corridor.

First Aid stood staring at the door to his repair bay; he took a step back until his shoulder struts were touching the opposite hall.

"What… what the pit was that?"

He stammered to himself.

"Maybe I just need some time to recharge, yeah, that's it, a recharge cycle… heh, yeah, just working to hard".

The medic turned and hurried off towards his quarters and a hopefully uninterrupted sleep.

--

It was close to 2300 hours. First Aid stood outside his repair bay. He had to go in there, a small number of Cons who were still on earth, or who had been rumoured to be on earth, had just attacked a small unmanned oil rig off shore of a human town. When the Autobots had shown up, the Decepticons panicked and caused a massive explosion, causing a Tsunami to strike the town, and several Autobots had been damaged in the fire ball, they were on route now.

"You can do this, Aid".

He said to himself as he opened the door and walked into the medbay.

The digipads that had been chucked at him were sitting on the floor under the dispenser. The oil that had spilled out had dried into a sticky mess but at least it'd stopped. The digipads and other materials on his table were all over the floor as well. He began picking up the digipads and placing them in a box on the shelf. There was an odd feeling in the room. Like someone was watching him… or something… He had a job to do; he just had to get on with it. If someone was here, well, then so be it, but injured Autobots would be here soon, they needed a doctor who had his CPU in it, not thinking about invisible assassins or boogie men.

"First Aid, come in First Aid".

A voice came over the com.

"This is First Aid".

"Its Springer here, we've got a few good injuries, Kup lost a leg and Wheelie's received a bad knock to his CPU. We're about twenty clicks away, ETA 5 minutes".

"Read you, Springer, I'll have things ready. First Aid, out".

The young doctor sighed, giving momentary thought to the horror and complete and utter uselessness of war and then turned to head to the supply room to gather what he'd need for a traumatic amputation and a CPU injury.

Inside the supply room was any medical implement he could imagine. Since the great battle only a few months prior the Autobot higher ups were a little more inclined to be generous with resources, and even before, Ultra Magnus had been on the mindset that to have a good army, capable of winning the war, one needed fully functional soldiers, so Magnus in his previous command before arrival on earth, had been very giving with resources to his medical teams. Of course, from was First Aid knew, the medical team under Magnus' command was sparsely educated and was made up of a maintenance drone and two femmes who'd been learning "nursing" before the war. One of the femmes was… as the saying went, a few circuits short of a mother board and was all over the place, since her arrival on earth she'd been relegated to a job that involved very little action and NO medical intervention. The other femme, her CPU still functioning at a decent level, had found a more suited role in being Magnus' secretary.

His sensors suddenly spiked, someone was in the room with him.

"Springer?"

He asked, knowing even before he spoke that it was not Springer.

The medic turned to face where his sensors indicated the new comer was standing and instead found himself facing not Springer, and certainly not any other functioning Autobot, but a mist of white and red floating before him.

The young doctor gasped and staggered back, bumping into the shelf behind him, a few of the instruments giggling slightly as they rolled from their position.

The mist at first was just that, a cold, swirling, floating mass of white with hints of red, but slowly it took a more recognisable form.

Ratchet.

"EEEEEEEE!"

First Aid squealed like a little femme and ran from the supply room, out of the repair bay and smack bang into Rodimus who was in a rush to get there before the injured.

"First Aid! What the hell are you doing? Get your aft back in there and prepare for the injured! Seesh, I shouldn't have to tell you that! Primus!"

"Rodimus… Rodimus I saw Ratchet, he was in there, standing right behind me! I swear to the Allspark!"

"Ratchet? You saw Ratchet? I thought he was offline".

"He is offline! I saw… I saw a ghost!"

"Look, doc, I don't know what you've heard about me, but two things, one, I don't have time for shenanigans when there are injured Autobots on the way and two, yes it is true, I am that big".

"But… but…"

"Oh for the sake of Victor Sigma, come on, I'll prove the damn repair bay ain't haunted".

The new leader marched into the empty repair bay.

"See. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Nought. Now get to work, I'll stay and assist, cos this place is looking a bit scruffy".

First Aid shuddered slightly, but could see there was no longer any "ghost" or anything but physical mess in his repair bay.

An alarm began to blast.

"WHAT THE HECK IS THAT?"

The unsettled doctor squealed.

"I believe that is your alarm that blasts when injured Autobots have arrived at the city. Now get your slag together, Aid, I have no use for doctors with a complex".