Ep 1 (AR) - Home Medicine (Closed)

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<<OOC: Continuing on from Shoot & Smash>>

Amongst the many items on Zoom-Zoom's list of things to never do again, walking through a groundbridge blind was rating pretty high. Even higher than Don't-Mention-Garrus-9-To-Sir-Stomp-A-Lot. It was fragging disorientating, because Zoom-Zoom knew that technically there wasn't anything under his pedes. Most of his sensors were useless in the groundbridge,as it pretty much was a fragging hole in reality. But if he could see, then he'd be able to look ahead and see the literal light at the end of the tunnel and thus reassure himself he wasn't about to wander off or fall into dimensions unknown. He'd heard stories about groundbridges, the science bots didn't know much about how they worked other than they did and Zoom-Zoom wouldn't put it past Primus to punt him into another universe just for his own amusement.

So, in the end, getting off the groundbridge couldn't happen fast enough. As soon as his pedes touched something a bit more solid and he could hear something other than the sound of a gaping dimensional wound, he was off in a flash. He darted forward, sensors sweeping across the room he was in to give him warn him of potential obstacles. Unfortunately, it took him a moment to transition from static confusing read-outs due to hell dimension to sensible understanding readings of nice, safe reality so he ran smack into something despite several cries of warning.

Zoom-Zoom spread his servos on the thing then pushed himself off and backed up a couple of steps. "I'm alright," he called out and was rewarded with several muttered comments at the dubious state of his processor. "Just a little bit blind and in need of a medic." His motion trackers picked up Red Alert and Mirage as they took their leave. There was another mech still in the room, the operator of the groundbridge, Zoom-Zoom deduced.

"Heeeeey," Zoom-Zoom turned his attention to the new Autobot. "You have any idea where I could find a medic because this frame has not seen one since forever and you would not believe the amount of rewiring I've done to keep it going."

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The Autobot, a big white and red mech with a whip aerial above his shoulder, rocked a little with the impact and turned to face Zoom-Zoom. He pulled a lever and the ground bridge powered down, the green portal swirling into a point of nothingness.

"A medic?" he said. "Yes, I know where you can find one. You're looking at him. Or, in your case, listening to him. In case of doubt you need merely to imagine my put upon expression and take note of my air of quiet infuriation."

Despite the words his tone was dry, his expression amused. Ratchet put a hand on the minibot's shoulder to steady him and sized him up with a critical look, taking in the spattered mud and sooty plating.

"You must be our crash survivor," he said. "Red Alert messaged ahead about your predicament. Glad you got everything sorted out. Now, what was that about being blind?"

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Zoom-Zoom's sensors were obviously still out of whack from the groundbridge, he reset them and realized that it had been a mech he'd walked into. Still, it was the very Autobot he was looking for actually! Which was great. Apologizing for walking into the medic never even occurred to Zoom-Zoom, he was fixated by the fact that there was a mech who could (hopefully) fix the mess he'd made of pretty all of his systems.

A smile began to spread across his face. Such an expression was rather unnatural on Zoom-Zoom's features and it didn't take long before it was distorted into a utterly demented and rather creepy grin. He was about two steps away from throwing himself at the medic again and demanding repairs. "Yeah that's me," he answered. "Name's Zoom-Zoom. I knocked a few wires loose in my helm during the crash and when Sir Stomp-A Lot -Fortress Maximus, sorry- pulled me out of the mud, it pretty much killed my vision."

"Anyway, that's just the new stuff," he said, compiling all the damage reports he'd accumulated over the many vorns. There were a lot of them. A LOT. For the sake of full disclosure, he decided to add in all the ways he'd fixed most of them. He was actually pretty proud with some of the solutions he'd come up with, they were quite creative.

It didn't change the fact he'd practised a form of first aid that was an insult and mockery to the medical profession. How he'd managed to utterly slag half his internal receptors was still a mystery to him. Give Zoom-Zoom an unsparked computer system and he could hack and write code with the best of them. Something live, on the other hand, was an accident waiting to happen.

In this case, the accident was himself. Many, many times over.

And that was just the things Zoom-Zoom had done to his processor. He wasn't even considering the repairs and maintenance he'd done to his frame.

"I have a damage report you'll be wanting to see," he added. "Or not. Depends how much you like the sound of bad news and hard work. Give me a datapad and I'll download it. I'd ping it to you but the last time I suggested that, Sir Stomp-A-Lot sounded like he was contemplating ripping my arm off."

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It was likely a good thing that the minibot was blind at that moment, as he missed the expression that came over Ratchet’s face as he recounted his tale. What started as an mingled amusement and resignation swiftly transformed into a wary look, which in turn gave way to incredulousness before settling back on resignation again.

Ratchet massaged his brow.

“Yes, he does that,” he said. “It sounds like you’ve had your fair share of excitement for the day. And it sounds as if mine is only beginning if your damage report contains that much bad news in it. Save it for a download. I’d rather not beam that straight into my brain core if I can help it.”

His hands clapped down onto the minibot’s shoulders. “Let’s get you to the medical bay. I’ll take a closer look at the damage there. The vision malfunction should be straightforward enough to fix, at least. The rest can be a pleasant surprise for me.”

Carefully but firmly, Ratchet steered his patient from the control room. Though Zoom–Zoom was unable to see, his echoing footsteps suggested that he was being marched through a restricted corridor; ventilation fans rumbled in the walls.

“I’d better ask now,” said the medic behind him. “Just to reduce the shocks: what we you doing before you arrived here? Any longstanding damage or frame fatigue I should know about?”

[Deleted]

Zoom-Zoom tilted his helm, listening intently to his surroundings as he allowed the medic -Ratchet, Mirage had said they had a medic called Ratchet- to guide him. The base was quiet, so either they didn’t have a lot of Bots stationed here or everyone was out on patrol. Mentally, he mapped the path they took, counting the turns they took and in which direction. Sounded like a corridor they were in, the way their footsteps echoed. Were those...fans? Maybe. That could mean ventilation. Idly, Zoom-Zoom wondered if they were big enough to hide a mech his size.

They were going straight to the med-bay, huh. That was a relief, though Zoom-Zoom did wonder about the washracks. Maybe there were some adjacent to the med-bay. Or perhaps the mud didn't bother Ratchet. A medic of his position would be well accustomed to battlefield conditions. Mud was a pretty minor irritant compared to some of the situations Zoom-Zoom had seen out on the frontline.

Before he got here? That was a long story. "Before I crashed here, I was on a dust planet, Centra Vita Eight," Zoom-Zoom said. "I was there for a few vorns and I haven't had a chance to clean out my filters, so those are probably clogged with Primus knows what. Befoooore that. Uh. Imagine the lousiest places possible in the galaxy with the worst hospitality, the sort that wants you dead, and little or no medical facilities and you'd have just about charted my path from Cybertorn to here."

"As for things that you should know about-how do you feel about neural circuitry? About barely functional neural circuitry and unresponsive internal receptors? And uh-thoroughly broken stasis controls?"

The last confession came out with a sheepish wince. The other damage took time to repair and skill but was ultimately manageable for a well trained medic with the right equipment. Stasis controls...medics hated mechs that messed around with their stasis controls. They existed for a reason and that was to keep a mech alive even after sustaining the most critical of life threatening damage. But they also relied on the mech being found, recovered and given medical attention. Since Zoom-Zoom hadn't have a hope of any of that on his own, he'd settled on breaking the fragging things controls pretty quickly. He'd traded away the safety of stasis for the off chance of keeping his frame moving just a little bit longer to get himself out of danger and then leaving his survival up to his self-repair.

It was near suicidal and desperate but Zoom-Zoom had decided the risk was worth it, he hadn't exactly had a lot of options given his circumstances. It also meant that he could be running around with near fatal damage and have absolutely no idea about it, thanks to his aforementioned slagged internal circuitry and receptors.

It was a miracle he was still functional, really. There was a reason why he was so pleased to find a medic.

[Deleted]

Even the mention of a dust planet was enough to make Ratchet grimace. Dust was an insidious threat. It was a worse danger to fliers than ground troops in general, but still bad enough.

"I think I feel less than enthusiastic about virtually everything on the list you've just presented me with," he said in a deadpan voice. "However, while it may not seem like it at the moment you have actually lucked out on this occasion - my medical bay is currently empty. Which means I have all the time in the world to devote my attention to your optics. And your neural circuitry. And your unresponsive receptors. And your thoroughly broken stasis controls. And to a blow torch. Turn right here, please."

The hands on Zoom-Zoom's shoulders steered him firmly to the right. But instead of walking into a wall the minibot would be able to hear the soft whir of a door and then sense a great space opening in front of him. The faint electrical and magnetic fields of various equipment was a light prickle on the sensors - enough to suggest the presence of mingled human and Cybertronian technology.

Meanwhile, Ratchet was speaking again.

"From what you've described to me of your former posts it sounds as if you're a tangled mess of medical issues unresolved by routine maintenance," he said. "If I were you I'd expect to be here a while. I hope you don't have any other appointments. Are you in any pain at the moment? I'm referring to chronic discomfort from long-standing mechanical and neural issues as well. I can administer something to deal with that if needed. There is a biobed directly in front of you. Sit on it, please."

The medic brought him to a halt. Sure enough, if Zoom-Zoom lifted a hand he would feel the flat horizontal berth that stood within his reach.

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Zoom-Zoom reached out carefully and felt around the biobed to get an idea of its exact dimensions and location before he hefted himself onto it. He kicked out his legs in front of him and finally, finally began to relax for the first time since he'd arrived on this Primus forsaken planet. He was in a med-bay. He was safe. Zoom-Zoom could hear the hum of machines, medical equipment presumably, an d he allowed himself to unwind ever further by collapsing backwards strutlessly on the biobed. He went over the damage report he'd compiled to see if there were any other issues he needed to bring to Ratchet's attention.

"Chronic pain?" Zoom-Zoom couldn't help himself, he snorted at that. "Uh, those slagged internal receptors I was talking about? It's a good day when I can feel anything from them. Or, a bad day, depending on how you look at it."

The minibot finished looking over the report and-oh. Yeah. "Heeeey," he said. "I've got two experimental stealth systems installed, both of which are currently fragged. One's a full range of dampeners, more than your usual set of them and they're all on the fritz. The second's a color nannite reconfiguration system and it's always been more than a little bit unstable. It's currently jammed on red, I should be able to have around 5 different colors set at any one time but it always takes a lot of time to get them reprogrammed, more time than you've usually got on a Ops mission. I normally get that sorted when I'm seeing a medic but since I have no plans for the immediate future that require that system, that shouldn't be a pressing issue."

Zoom-Zoom tracked Ratchet's movement in the room with his motion sensors. "What am I cleared to know about the situation here?" he asked as he made himself comfortable. "I uh, came here on the barest scraps of information. Literally, I had the planet's co-ordinates and Optimus Prime's name and that was it."

[Deleted]

Zoom–Zoom would be able to hear Ratchet hum to himself at the mention of his faulty stealth systems. Luckily it didn’t sound like an irritated hum. More like an auditory frown.

“Well, as the Chief Medical Officer I have the authority to fill you in on several of the details,” he said. Something metallic clattered on the other side of the room. “Until you’ve been given the full green light by security I can’t give you all of them, of course. The basics boil down to this...”

The medic’s footsteps clumped back over to the biobed. He dragged with him something that rattled like a trolley. A moment later a slight increase in heat in the air directly over Zoom–Zoom suggested that a bright light had been switched on.

“We’ve taken up residence in a makeshift base in the country of Redacted, near the city of Redacted,” said Ratchet. His tone was dry, but the touch on the side of the minibot’s neck an instant later was precise and easy. “We’re working partly in conjunction with a contact in the local government, who has brought his department to bear in keeping our presence here on Earth a secret from the natives. I’m currently hooking a diagnostic machine to the port on your neck, in case you were wondering. Kindly don’t hassle it with any firewall protocols.”

Sure enough, and instant later there was a soft click of connection and a crisp handshake from an Autobot–identified diagnostic routine. Ratchet’s voice faded a little as he turned from the berth.

“The Decepticons are planet-side as well, operating out out... actually, come to think of it, this is something I can tell you. It’s the Nemesis. Megatron himself is present, which means that this insignificant mudball has become the new frontline for what is left of the war. Truly our glory days, if they ever existed in the first place, are far behind us now.”

Ratchet let out a contemptuous snort. “Anyway, that’s the situation in five hundred words or less. Are their specifies you’d like to know about? Now’s the time to ask your questions, before I put you out to tackle the worst items on the lengthy list of repairs you’ve just handed me.”

[Deleted]

A lot of questions came to mind as Zoom-Zoom let the diagnostic program through his firewalls. Current status of the Autobot forces, local terrain, new frontline, the Nemesis- Megatron? Megatron was here? The slag maker himself? Well, if Zoom-Zoom hadn't been thinking of finding away to get himself deployed somewhere else, he most definitely was now.

"Natives?" he asked instead, his processor drifting as he began to shut down processes to prepare himself for the medically induced recharge. "Urgh, they're organic right? Everything so far on this slagging mudball has been. Speaking of which...gonna-gonna need a new alt-mode…" Zoom-Zoom frowned sluggishly at that. "It...better…be...really...kick...aft…"

Vaguely, concern rose within the minibot over that. Something about his thrusters and reformatting and the fact that he'd never actually undergone a large-scale reformat. Before he could track down precisely what disturbed him about it, the thought had vanished.


Bah. Never mind. Everything would be fine.

[Deleted]

Within minutes the diagnostic equipment had run its scans. The minibot would be able to hear Ratchet humming thoughtfully from somewhere above him as he studied a monitor, beyond the warm glow of the lamp.

"Primus, you are a mess," said the medic. He spoke mildly, as if he were talking half to himself. "Hmm. Well, there goes my afternoon. Let's knock you out and hack into those receptors first. Then we'll look at the optics and the stealth suite. Huh. That's interesting. I've never seen that before."

The lamp squeaked on its swivel as it was repositioned overhead.

"Hmm, alt mode? Yes, you'll certainly need one of those. Go find Bumblebee or Wash when you're on your feet and functional again. They'll help you find something. I wouldn't entertain high expectations if I were you. Ground-based vehicles on this planet are primitive at best. But something out there should suffice. Good lord. Look at these damage reports. Your neural circuitry could scare off a leper."

The rush of commands that came next from the medical equipment were firm: a system-wide command to shut down all but basic support processes in order for maintenance. However, despite their authoritative manner, the process was calm and unhurried - a fog of sleep that descended swiftly, greying out all consciousness.

Ratchet continued to ramble in the background, his voice fading.

"Primus. What in god's name is that. Where did I put my scanner? I put it right here. Pah. All right, my fritzed-up friend. It's time for you to get some shut-down. Rest well. Hey! You! Get out of my medbay! Did I invite you in here? Don't touch that!"

And finally, darkness.