Ep0.5 - 'Favours' - Closed

[Deleted]

Six days after they'd found him, Dasal was still online. Cleaver had named the mystery mech who Defied All Sense And Logic when his spark had endured all the triage and critical repairs. Having seen the origins of the war, and more specifically the origins of the Decepticons, she didn't like the notion of an unnamed Cybertronian on her medical berth. Gender had been the only individual trait she could glean off his body, as there were no lasting insignia and he'd yet to regain even momentary consciousness.

So Dasal it was.

The umbilical line connecting them was more as a failsafe and a diagnostic tool, now, as Cleaver worked on extracting crumpled parts out of systems she had bypassed since the mine. She was bringing the mech back together a bit at a time, and finding it relaxing in a queer sort of way. Dasal was a mech in need of vast but systematic repairs, was unlikely to suddenly offline at the slightest provocation, and needed her expertiese.

There was only so much she could do alone, however, and scanning a processor whilst activating the neural pathways was not one of them. Hearing Reflector scuttle past the doorway, Cleaver abandoned the knee joint and moved to the head of the berth.

"Reflector, in here when you've got a click - need your help with Dasal."

[reflector]

Reflector had been on his way to collect a little energon for himself, but before he could reach the stash he was called on by Cleaver. He stopped right in place and gave a small unhappy vent before turning and walking into the room that held the old medic and the slagged bot they had picked up from the mine shaft. Reflector already didn't like this bot, whoever or whatever he was, Cleaver seemed fascinated with the slag-heap, even giving the bot a sort of pet-name.

Perhaps Reflector was just jealous, but he really desired to sneak in and unplug the bot when Cleaver wasn't looking, there was just something about the mech he didn't like.

"You know, provided the port access isn't damaged I can just hack in and get his real name."

The minicon suggested as he walked up to to the femme, craning his head to lock his optic onto her face plate. He already knew she would shoot down this idea, but anything was better then sitting there and listening to her prattle on about her little pet mystery.

[Deleted]

Cleaver arched a brow at 'hack' and tapped a single finger on Reflector's lens, lightly but enough to make the tiny mech flinch. "I'd rather just ask him, if it's all the same to you. Besides, not enough mystery left in the 'verse. Dasal can be Dasal until he's got the processor and vocaliser to tell me otherwise."

Which brought the medic to her favour. She anticipated this conversation was going to go just swimmingly. Like a turbocat in flaming oil.

With a quiet little prayer to Primus for strength, patience and a fragging miracle, Cleaver laid a hand across Dasal's helm. Best to keep the medical-jargon light for Reflector, she decided. "I need to light up his processor to run close diagnostics and begin the close-circuitry repairs. I can't light and look effectively at the same time, so it would be greatly appreciated if you would temporarily integrate Dasal's processor into your neural net for a few minutes." A beat and she folded her arms, optics flicking in a roll. "And I'm not above bribery if you want something for this."

[reflector]

The massive camera like optic clicked on and off for a moment, Reflector himself seemed to just stare in a state of shock. Then his lens focused down on her, making a soft clicking sound as it did so. The little mech then reached up and rubbed his optic, making a soft sigh like venting sound.

"Do you have any idea what could go wrong or what your asking of me? He could get parts of me, or I him or just go completely insane from all the data being forced through my systems."

Reflector was worried, more then that he was scared, his paranoid little processor was listing the hundreds of thousands of things that could screw up and horribly backfire. The little mech wasn't sure if there was anything he could think of that would tempt him enough to risk this.

[Deleted]

Okay, so maybe Reflector had picked up more about medical procedures and their inherent risks than she'd given him credit for. Softening, Cleaver touched a reassuring fingertip down his small back. "There are always risks in helping others, I know, and it's entirely your choice as to whether you help him. I know you didn't want to when we found him."

Withdrawing a little, the medic ran a hand across her face with a long ex-vent, composing her words. "It's a lot to ask, I know, but I can't go any further with him without help, and you're the only one I trust enough to help me, now. I'm a trained circuit surgeon, Reflector, and back in the vorns it still mattered I was one of the best. The risks to you are minimal, I promise."

[reflector]

The little mech stared back with that unflinching optic of his, it zoomed in to study every single curve of the femme's face-plate. Reflector was going to refuse, any sane bot would, even if they had as much hacking know-how as Reflector did. But on the other hand he wasn't sure if he could, she was the first and only decent bot he had ever met, she never tried to use him, abuse him or any of the hundred little indignities he had suffered at the servos of his fellow Decepticons.

"Fine...I'll do it... Just make sure the access point isn't damaged."

He seemed to almost shrink, he was scared of course, torn between his loyalty and desire for Cleaver's approval which fought against his normal paranoid, fear addled mind. But in the end it looked like he was being pressed into this no matter how stupid he thought it was.

"I'm gonna need my weight in high-grade, the latest issue of photographer's monthly, ice cream...and at least one kind word from you that is not followed by something sarcastic or insulting."

[Deleted]

Cleaver stared at the mini-mech for a full ten seconds before folding her arms, rotors shuffling tightly. "You can have frozen yogurt - it'll be less of a pain in my aft to scrape it out of your systems whether you play with it or, Primus help me, try to ingest it. I'll get you a monthly subscription to your magazine, and your weight in whatever form of High Grade I can get hold of." Her optics narrowed, though not entirely out of meanness. "And I'll think about the kind word."

At the same time, she opened a secure comm.line across the channel the Autobot had given her access to. ::Ironhide? If you're getting this, I'm in the middle of bargaining with bribery, and I know my olfactory sensors caught that sweet vibe of High Grade when we met. What favour would you want in exchange for ten cubes, my good mech?:: A pause, then, ::And don't give me 'nuthin', sweet spark - I ain't no charity case.::

[reflector]

"I'm not going to shove that stuff in my intake, the ice cream, it's to cool down my processor after it gets burnt out and I try to sooth it with high-grade."

The little mech explained before childishly crossing his arms and leaning against the closest wall. On top of all of this he had to contend with some unknown mech sweet talking Cleaver over the coms, some days Reflector wished he could just go back to the Decepticons, at least they were predictable when it came to making his life the pits.

[Deleted]

The comm caught him out of the blue, brought up up short for one step in the middle of the corridor with threat analysis swamping him before the signal was matched and filed and... oh. Huh.

The message made him want to laugh, something lighter and warm carried from the femme's voice to his own lines. Crazy medic, but for Cleaver the phrase had none of the bite that most mechs reserved for Ratchet. Ironhide set himself back into motion with a swing in his step, the smile only showing in the edges of his optics. ::Ah wouldn't dream of it, ma'ahm. Ah most certainly can get yeh that High Grade - it ain't nothin' fancy, but if yer lookin' to scour somethin' clean, internal or out, it does th' job.:: He hesitated slightly. ::Call th' favor open. There's plenty of times Ah've patched myself - Ah'd be grateful t' know there's a more qualified set of hands t' go to instead.:: It was always, he consoled himself, a good idea to have a medic favor tucked up for later use. Ratchet was good, but busy, and there was always the possibility of injury without easy access back to base. ::An' Ah can't think of any more qualified hands Ah'd rather trust.::

[Deleted]

Raising her hands upwards, Cleaver's field flashed with pleased relief. "Thank Primus for intelligent mechs." Seeing that Reflector looked to be heading for a Class-One Sulk, the old medic came about the berth and, with a supressed groan of effort, slid down to sit next to him on the deckplates against the wall. "I'm not going to let your processor burn out, Ref'. Besides, your spec. is for massive amounts of data. You can do this with your lens covered."

Her comm. sang back internally, and Cleaver smiled. "Got your High Grade, Reflector. And you're a good mech to do this for someone you don't know. Truly."

::One favour in hand - and thanks.:: She drummed her fingers across her chipped knee. ::Don't go gettin' yourself offlined before you can call me for it, alright? I know what you warrior-types are like.::

[Deleted]

::Ah promise,:: Ironhide shot back easily. It was a promise he had already made to multiple others, and he'd never had the slightest intention of going back on it if he could help it. He diverted his steps towards the back rooms, thankfully empty at that time of day so that there was no one there to question where he was going or what had prompted the small smile he couldn't banish. ::Where an' when would yeh like delivery? Same spot as before?::

[reflector]

In spite of her words the little mech could feel his processor working over time just to handle the praise he was getting. At least part of his demands were given up front, though Reflector didn't know quite how to feel about it, since the words were kinda forced out of her.

"I know...but I've never never done any of this before. I'll still do it of course, I'm as good as my word."

Even if he was a paranoid little coward, he was at least a Decepticon who kept his promise.

[Deleted]

Cleaver tapped Reflector's back again, her field warm against his. "I know, and thanks for trusting me. I think we've made a good team over all this time, odd as it seems. As for the jack-in, we can do it now or later on. Up to you. It'll take about ten kliks."

::Considering that I'll be owing you two, now, might as well let you in on where I'm camped so you can call.:: She transmitted co-ordinates just a little way from the buried ship - far enough that a dampening field would keep Reflector from evesdropping. A breem or so, alright? I don't have a Prime to report by, so my schedule's pretty much clear.::

[reflector]

"Now please. The sooner I can burn out my hard-drive the sooner you can patch me up."

He still didn't like his chances, but he would much rather get it all over with sooner rather then later. The little mech pulled himself away from the wall and walked over to Cleaver, ready to be told what to do.

[Deleted]

Cleaver lifted him up onto the berth and set him down beside Dasal's helm, tapping open the appropriate port afterwards. "I'll be monitoring you both. Don't go messing about near any hard-locked data - that will get you into trouble. Keep it shallow. Just your consciousness breezing through will give me enough to scan by. Got your firewalls set up?"