I am so sorry this took so long! I spat out over 50,000 words last month for Nanowrimo and didn't have any time or motivation to work on anything else! I'll be back to a regular(ish) updating schedule, I promise. Thank you for your patience!
Beta deck was, in a word, chaos. Mechs were running every which way, orders were being barked and Ratchet had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to be doing. Other than the crash course of hierarchy inside of the Medbay, he had no idea how the greater Decepticon forces worked. And seeing how he wasn't the only mech who looked a little confused, he, apparently, was not the only one.
Above the noise of the rushing mechs, the sound of idling engines were thrumming from the behemoth of a ship that waited at the edge of the deck, set to launch at a moment's notice. It was a carrier vessel, much like the one Ratchet had been brought to Kaon in, but nearly three times the size. Apparently, whatever sort of reinforcements were being sent to Charr were needed dearly as mechpower and supplies were hurriedly loaded onto the ship.
The thought crossed his mind of hiding and waiting for the chaos to end before sneaking out of HQ, but that idea was quickly quashed as a mech with red medic stripes and officer markings pointed at him.
"You! What's your name?" the mech bellowed.
For a moment, he considered giving a false one, but what good would that do? "Ratchet," he replied.
The mech tossed him a datapad with a checklist. "Watch that shipment of supplies—if anything's missing I'm holding you personally responsible."
Ratchet swore, nearly dropping the datapad, and before he could even straighten up to throw a novice salute, the mech was already gone. Slag it, a fake name would have been a good choice right about now, but it was too late to dwell. Instead, he grudgingly got to work, checking the boxes upon boxes of supplies as they were loaded into the underbelly of the waiting ship. Multitudes of medical supplies, energon, ammunition- it was a tall order.
"Two breems until launch," a mechanical voice announced from the speakers on the deck and Ratchet swore. That wasn't nearly enough time to get all of the supplies properly accounted for by himself. Movement out of the corner of his optic caught his attention and he glanced up, seeing someone ducking behind one of the crates.
"Hey- if you're going to hide out here until launch, tell me what numbers are on those boxes," he barked, trying to make it sound like an order even though he knew he didn't really have any sort of authority.
He heard a thud, and the tower of boxes next to the mech shuddered though they were too tightly tethered down to topple. Swearing, Ratchet walked over and peered around the boxes, seeing a very scared looking Perceptor huddled behind the crates like they were a fortress. The young mech's optics met his and he relaxed, the fear ebbing from his frame.
"Primus- you didn't even sound like yourself," Perceptor said. "I didn't think anyone would be down here so close to launch."
"No one is supposed to be!" Ratchet hissed, not quite overcoming his surprise at seeing the mech here. "What the slag are you doing?!"
Perceptor flinched a little, his optics widening slightly at the harsh tone. He'd never actually seen Ratchet lose his temper before. "Stowing away. Everyone else might have been too busy to notice, but I saw Spec hand you that device," he said.
Ratchet stared at the young mech, mouth slightly agape. "Perce- what the pit would you have done if you hadn't found me and this ship had taken off?" he asked.
Perceptor swallowed, his frame tensing a little bit. "I prefer not to think about that," he said matter-o-factly. "Now, I would like you to take this collar off of me. Now, please."
"Half a breem to launch."
Ratchet swore and shook his head even as he reached into subspace for the unlocking device. "You're glitched," he muttered. He thought for a moment as he carefully clamped the device over the plug on the back of Perceptor's neck. Perceptor flinched but otherwise managed to stay still as Ratchet toyed with the device, being sure he was using it properly. The plug finally slid out and the collar unlocked. Perceptor wasted no time in yanking it from around his neck.
Just as he was about to huck the device to the back of the carrier's storage room, Ratchet grabbed his wrist. "We might want to hold onto that," he said and plucked the collar from his hand before storing it in his subspace. "If nothing else, someone in the Autobots might want to take a look at it. Maybe they can find a way to deactivate the rest of them?"
Percept looked doubtful, but didn't argue. "I suppose it can't hurt," he murmured.
"Final call," the cool voice sounded. "All hands on board. Takeoff in 5 kliks."
Ratchet swore again, optics darting around the cargo hold of the ship. "You need to hide," he said as his optics lighted on a box full of tubing. He yanked the top open and grabbed Perceptor's arm. "Get in. I'll find you once we've landed. Just stay put."
Thankfully, the young mech didn't protest and climbed into the crate, pushing some of the sterile tubing out of the way to make a nest of sorts. Ratchet quickly closed the lid and patted the top. "I'll be back," he promised before hurrying out of the cargo hold. He watched the doors hiss closed in preparation for takeoff and ran up the plank into the main hold of the ship.
At least 200 other mechs were sitting in the dark and cramped hold of the ship and though he wasn't the last mech to squeeze into an empty spot along the wall, he had cut it close. Just moments after fumbling with the belts to secure himself in, the ship rumbled to life under him, causing everyone in the hold to sway. Ratchet held on to the straps, a strange mixture of anticipation, nausea and even a small bubble of hope settling in his tanks.
He watched some of the mechs doze off, while others talked amongst themselves. Every so often, one would spout out with some loud, rallying call that the others would respond to, but Ratchet merely rolled his optics at the bravado. One of the mech's sitting next to him was younger than even Perceptor, and his nervousness showed in the way his foot tapped a near constant rhythm on the ground next to him. Even so, when someone started a chant, the young mech would join in, his shaking voice lost to everyone but Ratchet in the din.
The flight seemed to last minutes, even though it was past nightfall by the time they landed. Ratchet hadn't managed to recharge at all and felt stiff and tired as he got to his feet and hurried out with the rest of the reinforcements. He was greeted by the far-off sound of an explosion, the pattering of laser-fire a soft undertone to the violent symphony. Overhead, the dark sky brightened with fiery lights, all far too close for comfort.
He didn't have time to dwell. Instead, he hurried to the cargo hold, pushing his way to the front of the line of mechs ready to unload the ship. He didn't want anyone else uncovering Perceptor before he had a chance to get him somewhere safe. The cargo door hissed open and he hurried inside, finding Perceptor's crate with ease.
He gently knocked a little rhythm on the lid before leaning down and whispering, "Stay put." Over the noise of the cargo hold, he didn't have a huge fear of being overheard, but he kept his voice lowered anyway. Carefully, he loaded the crate onto a hover cart and wheeled it out.
"Med supplies to the left," a voice shouted, and Ratchet did as he was told. He realized that the drop ship had landed on something like a hill, and just downhill were two very distinct paths that had been etched into the crust of the planet. Suddenly, he realized why Charr had been in a stalemate for so long- the battlefield of was riddled with long, winding ruts that had been formed by a long-since dried acid river. It cut veins into the planet's metal crust as tall as any normal sized mech. They were naturally occurring trenches, impossible for anyone to gain the upper hand the terrain.
With no small sense of foreboding, Ratchet wheeled his crate onto the left path, feeling the metal walls rise up and surround him like a prison. He kept his pace quick and glanced behind him, until the drop site was out of view and he was hidden in the curves of the trenches. He pried the lid open and offered Perceptor a hand.
"Out, quick," he said and helped the young mech out of the crate, picking off a piece of tubing that had gotten stuck in a crease in his armor.
Perceptor looked around, optics wide as he looked around. "Primus- I never imagined the veins were this big," he said. "I remember studying Charr- it's one of the most unique geological formations on the planet but nothing in text books captures the /size/ of the acid veins."
Ratchet gave him a gentle shove to get him walking, knowing that he would gawk until his curiosity was satisfied. Perceptor huffed indignantly, but didn't voice a protest. They followed the winding trench for what felt like an eternity and with every step, the blasts of the battle got closer and closer until Ratchet could feel the shock wave of the explosions overhead. They rounded a turn and tucked into the deepest part of four converging veins was a med tent.
Mechs bustled every which way and for a moment, Ratchet froze, not sure where to go. It was so different from the clean and orderly medbay at HQ, he didn't even know where to begin. A rough hand slapped his back, making him stumble forward and nearly tipping the crate off of his hover cart.
"Hurry up, newbie!" It was the same medic with the officer stripes and he looked almost amused as he saw Ratchet's dumbfounded look. The big mech swept passed him and down towards the tent, and Ratchet was quick to follow. Perceptor hurried after him, sticking so close to his back that he nearly ran into him when Ratchet suddenly stopped.
"Who's this?" the mech asked and looked at Perceptor. "He isn't a medic."
"New recruit," Ratchet said, the lie flowing smoothly off of his glossa. "Clumsy glitch- tripped and nearly got trampled coming out of the drop ship. Told him to follow me and I'd fix the dizziness."
The mech snorted. "Hurry up- we don't have time to waste on glitches like him- hey! Watch what you're doing with that! Those are sensitive parts!" he snapped, his attention diverted, thankfully, to a couple mechs who nearly dropped a crate of replacement protoform parts.
"This way," Ratchet hissed and dragged Perceptor to an empty berth near the edge of the entrenched med-tent. Just beyond the lip of the tent, was one of the many veins- too thin for many bulkier mechs, but for him and Perceptor, it would be a tight squeeze and nothing more. He hefted Perceptor up onto one of the tables, looking him over critically. "How are you feeling?" he asked. "Repairs holding?"
Perceptor nodded, his optics bright and wide. "Y-yeah, so far I feel fine," he said. "A little tired, but nothing dire."
Ratchet nodded. "Let's keep it that way," he said.
"Relief from Kaon, I hope you're rested! You're taking first shift," the commanding mech bellowed. He pulled out a roster and read, "Privates Hookshot, Newbelt, Ratchet, Sawtooth and Spindrift- report to me."
Perceptor looked up at Ratchet, optics wide. Ratchet felt his own spark pulse uncomfortably, a thrill of adrenaline rushing through him. Whatever the mech wanted, didn't bode well. "Stay here. I'll be right back," he promised. Perceptor looked like he was about to argue, but Ratchet hurried over to the officer before he could say anything.
The big mech looked around, doing a quick head count. "You six were commended as being steady under pressure," he said. "That's why I'm sending you all out to the field to aid the combat medics. You'll be on the transport convoys that run through the veins. Stabilize priority cases and we'll take it from there. Be alert. Slagging Autobots are sneaky- they've broken into some of the veins behind our lines. We caught the leak, but we don't know how many made it through- be wary of mechs that don't have insignias. Disable first and ask questions later." He looked around, as though being sure every mech was paying close attention. "Your priorities are keeping your convoys going and stabilizing any mechs that need it. Battle's running hot today- it's gonna be a busy one. You're heading out in two breems. Suit up with supply and prepare to roll out."
The mech pointed to a supply station where already prepared field kits and supplies had been laid out. Ratchet grabbed his pack and one of the supply mechs shoved a gun into his hands. He nearly dropped everything and glared at the mech, even as he he obediently stored the gun in his subspace. No matter what, he wasn't going to use it- he was a healer, not a fighter.
He supplied up as quickly as he could manage before rushing back to Perceptor. "We need to get you out of here, now," he said quickly.
Perceptor sat up on the medberth, optics wide. "Why? What happened?" he asked and glanced over Ratchet's shoulder nervously.
"They're looking for mechs without insignias," he said and flicked Perceptor's bare chassis. He glanced around, trying to gauge if anyone was paying attention to them. "I've been assigned to work on one of the patient convoys."
"You're not going to, are you?" Perceptor asked, alarmed.
"Of course not," Ratchet scoffed. He watched the head medic barking orders and turn the other direction before Ratchet grabbed Perceptor's arm and shoved him back into the gap in the metal wall. "Go as far as you can," he ordered and gave him another push to get him moving. Perceptor muttered something under his breath and squeezed himself back as far as he could manage—it was a very tight fit. Ratchet could see scrapes of paint coming off of the mech's back and chassis where they connected with the constricting walls. Just as he was about to hit a curve and get out of sight, something under him cracked.
Ratchet could only watch in horror as Perceptor fell, sliding down out of sight and deep into the metal vein. He didn't bother to look over his shoulder, didn't hear the surprised shout of one of the other medics as he rushed into the vein, ignoring the scrapes and scratches he was causing and slid down the hole after him. For a sickening moment, he dropped, but his frame was bulkier than Perceptor's and he managed to get his feet and hands out to slow his descent.
He grit his dentals, slowing himself down to a stop in the narrow crevasse. Stiffly, he glanced under him, trying to see anything in the darkness, but to no avail. The wall scraped his back and hands and pedes and he half walked, half slid down the narrow chasm, moving slowly and carefully so he didn't lose his tentative grip. It narrowed the further down he got, and just when the passage got too constricted for him to continue further in his half-bent position, his aft dipped into open air. Below him, the passage opened up into a wide half dome and Ratchet instantly realized they had reached one of the tunnels Perceptor had spoken of.
He grunted and twisted as best as he could in the tight space, knowing that if he slipped or positioned himself poorly, he'd fall straight through. Holding on to the tentative grip he had, he shined a light down below him, trying to see how far of a drop it was. Maybe three times his height- it would jar his system, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. He scanned the ground and swore as his beam of light shone down on Perceptor, lying sprawled on the ground below.
"Perce!" he cried, his voice echoing through the cavern. Steeling himself, he positioned himself feet-first and let himself drop. His tanks lurched and he hit the ground harder than he meant to, jarring his knee a little, but he ignored the twinge as he hurried over the the other mech.
Perceptor groaned, his optics flickering unsteadily before they slowly cleared. He pushed himself to his feet and rubbed his helm, brushing off flecks of rust and debris. "I'm alright," he said.
Ratchet wasn't convinced and helped him to his feet, peering at the back of his helm. "How did you fall?" he asked.
Perceptor coughed, more flecks of debris coming out of his vents. "Straight on my back," he said and coughed again, his vents rattling as he did.
Ratchet winced. "You probably knocked a couple somethings loose then," he said and shone the light into his main helm vents. One of them had a broken fan that was causing the unhealthy rattle, but fortunately, the other side seemed fine. "We'll move slow," he promised. "You won't overheat if we take it easy. Your tanks?"
Perceptor ran a hand over his abdomen, giving a half-sparked grin. "I'll be fine," he said.
"Perceptor," Ratchet said, a warning underlying his tone.
The young mech sighed. "It's nothing- it's just... twinging," he said.
Ratchet looked at the mech, waiting for him to continue, but a small piece of falling debris from above cut his thoughts short. "If that pain gets worse, you tell me instantly, got it?" he said. Perceptor nodded quickly and Ratchet grabbed his arm, bringing him into step next to him.
Almost on impulse, he activated his GPS, and was surprised to find that not only that worked, but his comm. systems were up and running again. He had known the collar was blocking the functions, but he had adapted so well over time that the influx of information was almost overwhelming. Maps and diagrams popped up on his HUD as well as a warning of outdated information.
He swore. "Apparently the planet's maps haven't been updated in well over a vorn," he said. "There's no telling which of these tunnels is still intact."
Perceptor gently tugged his arm out of his grip and headed off down the leftmost path. "Well, we better get started then," he said matter-o-factly.
Ratchet swore and double checked the tunnel Perceptor had chosen, realizing it was the best choice. The others curved back, heading towards Kaon or to Praxus, and both of them knew those certainly weren't the paths to take. Apparently Perceptor's GPS was working just fine as well. Without another word, he hurried to catch up to the mech.
"Where does this tunnel lead to?" Ratchet asked, giving up on trying to read his internal map. Perceptor was far more adept at it than he was anyway.
"This one- if it's still intact, will lead us to a smaller cross station. It's further out of the way, but I think it will be our best bet," he said, his optics distant as he accessed his maps. "From there, we'll hit another fork that will lead us towards Polyhex. Eventually, we'll have to go back above ground, but we'll be far away from Charr by then. I'm avoiding the main cross station, simply because I think it will either be guarded or destroyed. Its cross sections lead to far too many areas under the battlefield for it to be left open safely."
"Probably a good idea," Ratchet said, trying to register it all. It was going to be a long journey. Polyhex was days to the west in alt mode and Perceptor didn't have that luxury. His alt mode was geared towards research, while Ratchet's, like most other mechs, was geared towards transportation.
They walked on in silence for a long while, and the pain in Ratchet's leg dwindled to a dull ache. The tunnel they were in was fairly straight, but there were many other veins that connected to it. Some of them led all the way up to the surface, giving them glimpses of light from the above world. Those were the ones that made Ratchet the most nervous. With the light of the planet's rising suns came the sounds of battle. The volume varied, but the sounds stayed familiar- the echoing crashes of mortar rounds on the planet's metal crust, the thudding boom of explosions and occasionally, the hiss of laser fire.
At one point, an explosion fell so close to them, the shock of it rocked the ground above and beneath them. Ratchet had thrown himself over Perceptor, shielding the younger mech as rusted and corroded pieces of metal rained from the ceiling. He had feared the ground above them was going to collapse, but it held steady and they had hurried quickly on, all too glad when the tunnel shifted slightly, taking them further away from the battlefield.
Ratchet kept a close optic on Perceptor, but it took nearly half a day of walking until the young mech stumbled. Ratchet was there to steady him and put a gentle hand on his back. The mech was running hot and he could hear how he was trying to hide the unhealthy shuttering of his vents.
"You're overexerting yourself," he said and pushed the mech back to sit down against the curving wall of the tunnel.
"I am n-"
"Stop, yes you are," Ratchet interrupted and brought out a cube of coolant from the supplies he'd been given earlier. "Drink this. You go through it faster when your vents are working properly and believe me, coolant deprivation is awful."
Perceptor made a face, knowing the legendarily bad taste of coolant well, but he grabbed the cube anyway. Ratchet watched him take the first sip and grimace before nodding in approval. He ran a scan and tried not to let his nervousness show on his face. This pace wasn't good for the recent repairs Perceptor had just undergone, but the mech didn't seem to be having any issues processing the coolant he had been given. Pushing aside his worry for now, Ratchet looked around. A sliver of light caught his attention and while Perceptor made his slow way through the cube, he went to investigate.
It was another deep vent, wider than many that they had come across and Ratchet could see the light of Cybertrons suns. It was a long day- the bigger sun still high in the sky, though the smaller, binary star had orbited around to the other side of the planet. Above, he could hear the sounds of the ever-lasting battle- close, but not enough to be dangerous. Over the constant sounds of weapons, Ratchet could hear voices- orders being barked, shouts and cries of soldier. It made him wince and walk back towards Perceptor, only to hear the sounds echo in the tunnels- except these sounds were coming from in the tunnel. And very close by.
"Fall back, fall back!" a voice yelled. A peppering of artillery followed and Ratchet heard the same voice cry out in pain. He grabbed Perceptor and yanked him to his feet, hearing footsteps heading their direction from one of the smaller tunnels. Almost as an afterthought, Ratchet grabbed the gun he had been given out of subspace, clutching it tightly in his hand. The sounds of the footsteps were getting nearer, but the echoes of the tunnel made it impossible to tell which direction they were coming from.
Perceptor clung to his hand, optics wide and frightened and Ratchet made his choice. He pulled the younger mech down the tunnel a little ways before leading him into a branching tunnel to the left- big enough that both of them could fit. It was the dead wrong choice.
All Ratchet had time to register was two optics widen in surprise before his finger tightened around the trigger. There was a pop and the gun in his hand jerked in his tight grip. The mech in front of him flinched. His hands flew to his abdomen and he took a tentative step backwards. He seemed almost reluctant to take his gaze off of Ratchet before he slowly looked down at the newly made hole in his middle. The mech looked at Ratchet, blue optics dimming and his mouth opened like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out as he fell to his knees. His vents slowed down and shut off and his optics dimmed further before he crashed to the ground. Ratchet caught a glimpse of a symbol on the mech's chassis, just above the hole he had made, and it made him sick. A puddle of energon and coolant leaked out from under him and Ratchet took a horrified step back, the gun in shock.
Hurried footsteps rounded the corner of the passageway and the five mechs stopped, taking just a split second to absorb the scene in front of them. A big red mech, apparently the leader of the group was the first to recover. He leveled his gun at Ratchet, blue optics bright and fierce and Ratchet slowly registered the same symbol on his chassis- red outlined in white.
Autobots. They were Autobots.
"On the ground!" the mech shouted, accent a thick Polyhexian drawl.
Ratchet didn't even have the will to disobey. He sank to his knees and put his hands up, Perceptor following his lead. He heard shouts and orders from the group of mechs, but his audios were fuzzy, his optics focusing on the mixture of blue and pink—entranced by the rapidly growing puddle under the mech he had just killed.