FLASHBACK - Maximally Invasive Procedures - (Closed)

[Optimus Prime]

Orion was greatly pleased at the results of his minor risk in speaking his thoughts. Ratchet did not dig his heels down to start a heated debate on the subject, but had taken his words into account and simply commented on it lightly. The medic in training did not agree with his words, but that didn’t bother the clerk one bit. Everyone was entitled to their own opinions, and so long as they did not lash out with them to bring harm to others? They could do as they saw fit. In reply to this, to show his gratitude for how Ratchet responded, Orion dipped his head slightly in a nod of acceptance and thanks for the kind words on his verbal articulation.

When the lift slightly moved from its halt, Orion's helm rose fully again to look out as the doors slid aside. When they had opened? His optics almost seemed to brighten at the sight, a new life entering them from the more reserved and deadened look from before. All of his prior nausea and disgust, as well as some of the unease, was gone as they entered an area far more to his liking. While this was not the first time he had been to the observatory, it always was quite a sight to behold. Tonight? It was that much more impressive by the distorted lighting caused from the falling sun.

Orion's shoulders rolled back a bit as he stepped forward, looking over the model of Cybertron and its duel moons. He did not have a chance to really watch it for too long however, because Ratchet was making a straight dive towards the benches, and he didn't want to fall behind as if he were some tourist. It is with this, he made his own way over, giving a subtle polite smile to the others he did not recognize, before sitting down on the bench beside Ratchet.

When Ratchet spoke about him getting into politics, Orion's pleased expression faltered a bit. He really did not think his opinions were worth that much? I mean, he did find them sound, and he did hope others viewed the world like he did, but who was he to do anything about it? As such he made a light sound of thought, a bit unsure of how to reply.

"I have looked into it, but my views are not worth that much. Besides, I am just a clerk, I am no figurehead, I am nobody of distinguished value."

Even though he was putting himself down, he didn’t seem downtrodden by it, a faint smirk in place and his field even and content. He understood he was just a cog in the proverbial machine that made the planet what it was. He just had to do his job, maybe get a few promotions if he worked hard enough, but if he vanished? Hardly anyone but a speckle of individuals would even notice.

"If I did try to get into politics, I would want to help another, support them. I would not wish to be in the spotlight. Taking lead really does not settle well with me."

He spoke openly about this fact. Leading? Augh... the idea was not very appealing. He'd happily help others, he did so every day at his job, and he enjoyed offering advice if he had any to give, but there was a difference between that and what was proposed. Standing forth as a strong political figurehead who many would be judging far more critically? Where some may find need to blindly follow instead of thinking for themselves? No... no that wasn't what he wanted.

"I am content on the sidelines."

[Deleted]

Now that he was seated Orion would find himself with a splendid view of the holographic model. It reared up on its plinth in front of him, one hundred feet tall: a giant shimmering globe, silvery and blue and speckled yellow where the lights of Cybertron’s cities were rendered in exquisite detail. He would be able to make out sombre Polyhex to the north, bright Helex beyond that, Praxus and Kalis and Ibex and Uraya, the grim and smoking Kaon –

– and Iacon itself, a golden beacon of ringed plateaus and spires that glowed brightly as the planet gently revolved on its axis. The twin moons spiralled past, tiny silver satellites.

Having seen the model countless times over his years at the Academy, Ratchet was less impressed with it than his friend was. Instead he baldly studied the other students gathered on the ring of benches beneath it, his optics narrowed. A handful he recognised from his medical classes; the rest were unfamiliar to him. Would-be scientists and potential flunkouts.

Ratchet grunted again and looked back at Orion. He slung his arm across the back of the bench.

“The sidelines suit you,” he said. “No offence, Orion, but you’re not a particularly daunting or charismatic figure, two qualities that seem to be a job requirement for a higher position among the Council staff, given some of the grandiose figures it tends to attract.“

He waved his hand. ”But don’t underestimate a side role. You could still do a lot of good acting as a guiding force of sorts to some of the less scrupulous members of our lower level government. Primus knows that some of them need a reminder of the burdens of political responsibility.”

A loud noise from one of the nearby monitors caught his attention. Ratchet glanced at the newsfeed, but the story had already switched back to a benign report about street racing in Ibex. He dismissed it and looked back.

“Now there’s a thought.“ Ratchet eyed his friend. ”If you were to get into even city–state level politics, minor stuff, who would you throw your support behind? The High Council is looking increasingly unsavoury these days, especially now that Zeta is throwing around all of this talk about using the civilian guilds to implement some ominous sounding function–based social changes. But is there anyone else out there independent of the Council whose political agenda is of interest to you?”

[Optimus Prime]

While Ratchet had thrown himself into a much more laid back and relaxed posture, Orion almost instinctively sat rather formal and proper. Even though he did lean back some into the bench for support? His spinal strut was straight, and his shoulders rolled back in their sockets as if he were sitting before someone of great importance. His forearms? Were settled passively to rest on his upper legs, fingertips lightly curled into a mockery of a fist at rest. It was however a rather natural state for him... this was his relaxed?...

"I thank you for your compliments."

He said this in an exceptionally dry attempt at a joke after Ratchet 'beat him down' and agreed he was better suited for the sidelines. He wasn't offended, and was actually somewhat amused by the blunt commentary. He would never have been so bold as to state something so brash about another, even if it was true. That was something Orion had to admire in Ratchet, and perhaps be a bit envious of. He didn’t think he could speak in such ways without feeling crushing guilt for the affront later.

Orion fell quiet to let Ratchet continue, respectfully looking over at the other mech as he spoke. He took in all that was said, but it all seemed... so pointless a conversation really. Even if he truly wished to get into such politics? How would one even start? As he had said before, he is just a little clerk that wasn't bold enough to really make a stand of any kind to fight his way to the top. He would easily yield to others and let them lead on as he was far too polite to try to shove them aside so his own voice could be heard.

Politics was a battle, and he was no fighter.

The loud noise caught Orion's attention as well, and he looked up the same way Ratchet had, only to view the same bland storyline. He shook it off and looked back a moment later, trying to pick through the medic in training's next words carefully. He knew political conversations can cause... rifts... between friends, and he didn't want to ruin anything for opinions that tended to not affect normal day to day things. However? He had to trust Ratchet, for earlier he responded well to disagreeing with his opinion.

"Purely hypothetical as there is no reasonable means to become involved-"

He started this to frame what he had to say next, making it clear he truly did not believe there was any point or need for him to get involved. It was pure speculative fantasy at this time.

"-but I see myself supporting one like Argentos if he were to alter his methods. I support the ideals, but the way he projects is... careless. I would be more adamant to support Magnirex, but he is a bit too cut and dry for me, almost harshly analytical. He speaks of equality but I am unsure if he truly understands what that entails."

Orion eyed Ratchet some, before he decided to throw it back at the Medic to get the subject off of him and his nonexistent political capabilities.

"What about you? Is there one that appeals to your ideals?"

[Deleted]

Ratchet however merely sniffed and folded his arms across his chest.

"Not one," he said proudly. "Well, that's not exactly true. While there are a number of minor administrators that I will admit aren't doing a terrible hack job of things, I've yet to come across one I felt I could truly throw my weight behind. And as far as the High Council is concerned only Halogen stands out as someone with even half an interest in facilitating discussion on matters that concern me, personally. Maybe it's because he oversees industrial regions like the Badlands, and is subsequently more sympathetic to lower income labourers, I don't know."

He shrugged and crossed his outstretched legs at the ankles. Judging by the crimp in his back he was going to regret the slouch later, but that was all right. It was more comfortable than sitting hunched over the lab table for another four hours straight.

"Then again, I suppose I have little background in politics," he said. "The interest is there, I try to keep fairly abreast of most news and policies - but I have precious little time left to devote myself to any sort of political science study. You must get exposed to a lot of it however, working at the archives as you do."

Ratchet cast him a sidelong look.

"Actually, that brings up a thought," he said. "You must work rather closely with Alpha Trion, at the Hall of Records. He's your mentor, isn't he? I know he's not exactly a politician per say, but you can't deny he has influence within the Council. I wish he was more directly involved in government decisions - he's someone I could get behind, possibly. How do you feel about him?"

[Optimus Prime]

"I suppose it does not matter what reasoning is behind it, so long as attention is given to those that traditionally are neglected."

Orion interjected this in carefully when Ratchet mentioned Halogen and the fact he was more sympathetic towards laborers. Those of the lower brackets, often were not permitted to have a voice. Anything they said? Was filtered out through the ones higher than them, leaving cried words of request or need to be nothing but distant murmurs that go unnoticed. To have one of power and rank at least attempting to humor such things? If not, turn to pay heed to them? Was a boon compared to the acts of others.

Hearing that Ratchet didn't really have time to devote to such things as politics? Didn’t surprise the clerk at all. To be a medical student? Had to hemorrhage away time, to a point that any spare amount? Was to be valued highly. What followed had Orion think a moment, about to formulate a reply on what all he sees in the archives. There were some things he could freely speak of, and others? Not so much.

He sometimes had to deal with sensitive information to file it away, legalities, or records from some meetings. While he didn’t have access to all files yet, he knew enough behind the scenes of Cybertron to fill many hours of conversation, all of which he couldn't divulge. He was going to have to make a dry partly evasive reply to walk around the subject a bit, before Ratchet took the need from him and asked of Alpha Trion.

A mouth that had been open to speak pressed shut right after, blue optics flicking slightly in further thought. The Master Archivist confused him. His actions, did not always seem to make sense in the moment, but had never been wrong when its time came around. However certain things were still left as loose ends, having yet to reach their closure.

"I have no ill feelings towards the Master Archivist, but his actions... perplex me."

Orion admitted this in a lower tone; as if fearful he would be overheard. No one around them even heeded however, going about their own conversations, or walking past without a care in the world. Ratchet and himself, were merely just two more mechs amongst a sea of others that didn’t warrant a second glance.

"You are aware I started as a Monitor, correct?"

It was a perplexing job, one that had many questions often asked by outsiders, but the questions? Were often brushed aside by those who served it. It was a difficult job to describe, one more on programmed intuition and reaction, than anything that could be taught or trained. The task was filtering transmissions that cross Cybertron, determining if it fit criteria, before the Monitor would read or listen to it to properly, interpret, categorize, and hand it over to be filed away by the next tier in the chain. The part that often perplexed others, was how they knew if it met criteria, before even reading the file?

"Alpha Trion did not know me; he had no reason to single me out, yet did so to promote me over more qualified. It is actions such as this done without perceivable logic. I speak with him in passing, and he seems to keep an eye on me, but he's just... elusive... a mystery."

Orion frowned a bit at this. It really did concern him why he was targeted, not understanding the logic at all. There were more qualified mechs in the Monitors that would have thrived in the position he was now in. while Orion was grateful for it? He didn’t know what was happening, and why Alpha Trion seemed to spare extra moments to speak with him beyond things of work. Speaking of ambitions or goals, questioning, keeping Orion thinking and scrambling to put pieces together. Their meetings often left him with more questions than answers, trying to slam the puzzle together in confused jerky motions in his processor for days after.

"I believe that is why he is not involved directly. He has ancient wisdom to him, and seems to know far more than he reveals, and it is that... detached omnipotence... that would not fit well amongst a group such as the Council."

Orion frowned, his gaze settling off in front of himself to look at nothing in particular. He didn’t seem to be directly viewing anything, more in thought than reality. He knew he was divulging from the original path of conversation, but this seemed to actually be something heavy on his mind.

"He knows, yet does not speak, he sees, but does not share. Only what is needed is disclosed, and even that can seem... cryptic... Hinting at something more or perhaps? It is the processor playing tricks and making one perceive there is more when there is not."

Squared off fingertips drummed down against the bench, having only now realized he was slumping forward a bit with his palms resting on the front edge of the surface. He eased upright once more, his jaw twisting slightly in its sockets. The bitter taste from prior events still lingered, but it wasn't enough to jar his thoughts.

"Going back to your question, I greatly respect him, and would follow his advice readily, despite his enigmatic ways."

[Deleted]

Ratchet listened gravely. When Orion asked about being a Monitor he nodded, withholding any other reply until his friend was finished speaking. Across the observatory a fellow student waved to him. Ratchet merely lifted a hand coolly in return, his attention on the mech beside him.

When Orion fell silent he harrumphed.

“Well, I’m glad to know that you respect him,” he said. “With all the time you spend in the Archives I suppose it’s important that you’re working under the direction of someone whose view and opinions you value. There’s much you could learn from a place like that and a person like him, I should think. As for why he seems to have singled you out...”

Ratchet let out a barking laugh.

“It’s obvious he seems some form of potential in you, isn’t it?” he said. He regarded Orion in amusement now. Without uncrossing his arms he nudged him in the side with one elbow. “Just because you can’t see it, Pax, doesn’t mean it’s not there. Why do you think I keep after you to expand your presence from the Hall of Records? Evidently Trion thinks similarly to how I do. Er. Wait.”

Ratchet frowned as he ran back over what he had just said. A slightly mortified look came over his face. “Uh. Not to imply that I am comparing myself in wisdom to the Archivist of Iacon, one of the supposed Thirteen and Recordskeeper of the Prime. That would be bad. And premature.”

[Optimus Prime]

Orion realized he had been… rather wordy for his normal state. Typically he cuts straight to the point, and disregards everything else to lock it up as internal thoughts to some extent. Or? If he did show his thought process? If he did speak it verbally? It was much more subdued, limited, and dry. Instead? Here he had went, almost… rambling? To others it could hardly be considered as such, but to him? He had just gone off on a tangent and made poor Ratchet sit through it.

His fingertips drummed down upon the edge of the bench a moment more, before he eased back to how he had been previously, trying to shake off the hunch he had started to acquire when he slipped off into thought. It didn't take long for him to be back to a proper stance, looking over at the medic carefully. He could not help but agree with Ratchet’s words up to a point.

What had been said at first was all true, that it was good he had similar views with the other mech, as to be stuck working under someone that you did not agree with? Could lead to many issues. Orion could not imagine how differently it would feel at his post if he despised the Master Archivist. The concept was just… surreal…

What followed? Made him pause. But what else was new? Ratchet seemed to enjoy throwing phrases or questions that made him have to take an extra moment to chew over it. However? This pause? Was more out of surprise than any true need to mull over the words. It was only when he was nudged by the elbow? That he broke out of the embarrassed alarm, and shoved his open hand into Ratchet’s shoulder. The shove was light, more of a frustrated huff.

Luckily, Ratchet stumbled over his own words after that, and Orion had something to work with to try to facilitate some kind of response. He didn't like seeing himself as special, he didn't think he was worth Alpha Trion's attention, and to have contradicting information pushed at him? Made him a bit frustrated, but not angry. He knew he had to try to put away his typical formalities to retaliate with what he had been offered.

"Premature? You believe you will be able to compile the allotted wisdom to counter the Master Archivist who has been upon this world at the onset of its records?"

There was a light tease in his tone, very subtle, but it was there. Orion was trying to get retribution, even if this area of socialization was most definitely NOT his strong point. To an outsider? His following words could be seen as serious, the character of his voice and his posture screaming that he was taking Ratchet seriously and trying to engage in appropriate conversation. However? The Medic in training would definitely know he was continuing with some unconventional amounts of teasing.

"How very bold Ratchet! An ambitious goal for one still within Medical School. What field of practice do you seek to learn next? Architecture and Building Science? Geographic Information Systems? Or perhaps one of the cultural fields of art or design? I believe you would do quite well in Business or Judicial systems, you are not afraid to speak your mind."

Orion was doing quite well to subdue a smug look.

[Deleted]

Ratchet sputtered a bit at that, but good-humouredly.

"Ha! Could you imagine me, a part of the political or judicial system?" he said. He laughed again, an evil glint in his optic. "They would have me ejected from the council hall within minutes for language - and volume - unbecoming a government figure. But I bet I could get things done."

He held up one fist in a gesture of mock zeal. Cybertron revolved beyond it, the hologram fritzing gently with static.

Inwardly, Ratchet felt rather satisfied with himself. It was a rare occasion when he got his friend to smile. Orion was serious and careful with his words, non-demonstrative of his feelings. In many ways he was the opposite of Ratchet himself, whose words and emotions usually manifested in some form or another, usually that of irritation. To prod Orion into teasing him felt like an accomplishment of sorts. A ridiculous one, to be sure. But an achievement nonetheless.

Ratchet liked the fact that Orion treated the world around him with gravity. Even before he had entered medical school he had learned he suffered fools poorly. He had little tolerance for folly, and was glad for it. Orion's quiet and somber observations were one of the things that had drawn Ratchet's interest in him in the first place. But wherever a fleeting glimpse of a wry humour poked through that wall of solemnity he could not help but smile. It was always good seeing another side to his friend.

Not that he would ever say so. Ratchet crossed his arms back over his chest and adopted his most haughty look.

"Besides, I am quite satisfied with my field of choosing," he said. His optics gleamed. "I can't think of a more respectable field than medicine and science. And I'm rubbish at history anyway. I don't have your patience for it. Or for data cataloguing. And I'm sure that if I were to attempt to get into the archivist scene they'd have me out on my aft within a day for badgering people or for reorganizing their entire systems. No, I like my laboratory. It's quiet there. I get my own work done. No one bothers me."

He gave his friend an arch look. Then he nodded.

"What about you?" he said. "Down the road, where do you see your current role taking you?"

[Optimus Prime]

Ratchet as an actual government figure?... Yeah, that would not go over well. Not only for the language and volumes that would be in play, but the brash uncouth concepts that would be spoken. Pair with some condescending 'did you REALLY!?', and Orion could just imagine the cinnabar and white mech shrieking in the middle of a hearing. Most likely yelling upon some fool that was wasting official time with a petty complaint that really? Just needed to be handled by common courtesy and civility between opposing sides than the time of the council. But hey... Ratchet WOULD get stuff done, just in... an awful way.

The clerk glanced at the medic's hand as it was raised in a fist, as if shaking at the very planet that lay before him in challenge. It was this sort of brash fearlessness that amused him. While Ratchet appreciated Orion's more reserved state of being, his serious evaluations about his environment, and the subject matter brought up between them? Orion? Appreciated Ratchet's bold approach. While he could be a bit... overly surly and gruff to those that cross him, it was unfiltered reactions that in the end? Truly didn’t seem to wish REAL harm on anyone.

Or that’s just how he looked at it... Mostly bark with only a bit of bite.

And just like that? The subject matter was back to the normal conversation, the joking theme set aside. Orion disengaged from the humor as readily as it had started, almost as if it had never occurred in the first place. This left him retreating to the traditional tones of voice and motions.

"All have their strengths. Just as you would not have the patience for archiving, I would not cope under the strain of one's life within my hand."

Yeah no, he would filter through thousands of breems of cataloging and organizing, before he would happily spend one klik having to make decisions that could save or kill someone with the wrong removal of a wire or crash of an internal system. One mistake, one fault, and the subject could end up dead, or with irreparable damages to their processor or internals. That was just a nauseating amount of pressure. If Orion made an error in judgment at his job? It would just require some sorting and hunting to find the flaw and rectify it. None would be harmed; none could DIE because of it. Either way...

"I have not put significant thought into it."

Orion spoke earnestly in reply to the question Ratchet had asked of him, his shoulders rolling a moment in the faintest of shrugs. Despite this? He continued, rather than dropping the question aside as nothing.

"I have interest in the work of a Conservator, but I feel it may be passing curiosity more than a dedicated goal."

Some of the oldest of old records, had become corrupted in some form or another through the excessive amount of time. Often it could be overlooked, and re-written into new formatting to store properly, however? Some information was damaged so much so, that it would require a careful eye, and trained skill to piece it back together into coherent data.

"Realistically, I foresee myself as an Archive Specialist. Assisting others and dedicating myself to the subsection designated to me."

Orion actually had the foresight to anticipate what he thought would come from Ratchet next. It is because of this? He held up his hand lightly, a casual motion meant to still any replies. Effectively he was just asking for one moment longer to fill in the loose ends with his more casual speaking pace.

"Before you inquire, I do not know what said field would be."

His hand lowered after this, placing to rest atop his own knee.

"Is there a particular field of medicine you desire to go into? I am going to wager an assumption on neurosurgery due to what you had been working on?"

Orion thought it was a fairly sound guess, though for all he knew all medics had to go through the basics of such learning, even if they didn’t intend to focus upon it. Either way? It reminded him of that awful room again. His jaw shifted a bit, becoming aware once more of the bitter taste in his mouth from earlier. He thought having something to remove it would be beneficial, but he didn't recall then what had happened to the crystallized Energon he had been holding. He had it in one hand one moment... and the next? It was just gone.

As if caught off guard by this revelation, he peered at his palm, wondering if it would somehow materialize as having been there all along. It seemed though, he must have set it down at some point, or dropped it when he had purged.

Oops...

[Deleted]

Though Ratchet huffed off Orion's assessment of his profession, inwardly he was pleased. He was proud of his chosen field of study, and saw no reason not to be. It was not the power over life or death that interested him; it was the scientific complexity of their inner workings, the intellectual challenge its maintenance and repair demanded of a medic. And if mastery of that knowledge and skill could change a life, save a life...

Then that was good. No - better.

He studied the model for a moment as he considered Orion's words. Around them the sunset had deepened into dusky tones, darkening the observatory with shadows. Already the strip lights in the floor were activating, but dimly, leaving the vast space dark enough for a visitor to look up and see the stars in the night sky over Iacon.

Ratchet scratched his chin. An Archive Specialist. He eyed Orion from the corner of his eye and felt a twinge of pity for his friend. Though he did not doubt that it was a position that Orion would do well at - great, studious, solemn Orion - at times he felt impatient with his friend's seeming lack of ambition. It was not something that Ratchet could fathom easily. To be content with his designation in life, to not seek to excel and rise to the top of one's profession - pah. Perhaps it was not important that he understand. Orion was content, and that was what mattered.

At least, Ratchet thought he was content. Orion was difficult to read at times.

He shook off his thoughts.

"Neurosurgery does fascinate me," he admitted. "The elegance and intricacy of our brain modules is remarkable. So many dreadful ailments find their origin in our own heads - simple physical snags and damages, microscopic in size, can hold a staggering influence over the rest of our neural and motor systems. A scratched node, a scarred cortex, a charred receptor... and an entire Cybertronian is brought down to a comatose state, or paralysed, or rendered into madness as their minds betray them. To gain the knowledge and dexterity to mend such internal horrors is a tempting proposition."

Ratchet held up one hand, his fingers bent. He turned his hand over and flexed them, studying the tiny motions of the knuckles, then held his open palm up against the blue light that radiated from the holographic model.

"But ultimately, for now, perhaps I shall simply concentrate on being a surgeon. Becoming a neurosurgeon can come after that, just to really show up my contemporaries."

He cackled. "Speaking of which... are you hungry? The dispensaries should still be open at this time of the evening."

[Optimus Prime]

It wasn't so much... not wanting to excel... it had more to do with the fact that there wasn't really anywhere TO go in his chosen field. Once someone becomes an Archive Specialist? To go above that would be to cover multiple subsections. That alone would be a strenuous amount of work, keeping up to speed and always aware of changes within each subsection. To go one step higher? Well... that was Alpha Trion's realm there, and really, to aspire to have THAT job was presumptuous and bold, counting on another's demise which... was not even a factor in his mind.

If he really wanted to keep striding forward and jump up proverbial ladders of success? He would likely have to change fields, and that was not really something that was appealing to him. He knew what he was doing here, he knew what was happening. He had a rhythm, and he enjoyed the work. While tinkering in politics could be interesting? It wasn't something that would become his goal, or his focus. Really? It'd be more of a hobby on the sidelines, for he couldn't imagine himself getting THAT involved. It would have to be something really notable to pull that from him, something he feared for their kind as a whole.

While Ratchet spoke about the inner workings of the mind once more, Orion could do nothing but permit the faintest of smiles to form. His friend just had so much enthusiasm over the subject matter he spoke of. While it wasn't really... enthusiasm in the typical term that others could see? Orion picked up on it and it made him happy to see his friend going in the direction that would make him happiest in the long run.

"That is a chilling thought Ratchet. How something so small can do so very much."

Orion looked away from the medic, peering up at the sky above, noticing how it had changed to another stage of the cycle. His optics flicked between the separate stars, as if trying to identify which exactly he was looking upon, cycling back to the data he had filed at some point.

When Ratchet spoke about hunger? Orion had to internally frown a bit. Oh... oh he couldn't LIE. He couldn't say he was fine, Ratchet had just seen him void his tanks a few kliks ago. The fact the Medic was well enough into his studies, and the fact it was rather common knowledge, meant that Ratchet KNEW he would be hungry now, his systems hissing out in reminders that hey... hey your tank is empty. It is because of this> His helm dropped to peer back at him, a knowing look.

"That is not a particularly fair question."

He stated this dryly, but it was not intended to be snarky or rude in any way, more an idle comment that would lean towards amused if he were more expressive with his emotions. He had the lightest near nonexistent expression of mirth to par with it, glancing back to Ratchet as he did so.

"However were we not planning to view a debate?"

He himself had just remembered this, motioning his left hand up towards some of the monitors on the walls. It seemed they had diverted off course though from the initial goals, not that Orion minded. It was also somewhat a distraction, not wanting the focus to be on his own well being. He had come here to accompany Ratchet, and to give him a break from his work, not redirect his work into trying to feed him or other nonsense.

He just hoped his ruse wasn't too obvious.

[Deleted]

Ratchet made a face.

“I was hoping to, but I can see that whoever is in charge of choosing the newsfeed this evening has other plans in mind,” he said.

With a noise of annoyance he heavily pushed himself to his feet and gestured at the nearest wall monitor, upon which a story detailing celebrity responses to the most recent election results from a faraway colony was was being told by a red mech with exaggerated enthusiasm. Ratchet sighed.

“If I wanted to know what an attractive hawker for cheap body mods thought about the winning party for a privately–funded election on a failing colony on a dismal third–tier garden world, I would actually put a bullet in my head, because I absolutely do not care one whit,” he grumbled. He put his hands to the small of his back and awkwardly stretched. “I hate the froth on the news these days. Let’s get something to eat. Scrap.”

Ratchet dropped his hands from his back and caught Orion by the elbow to hurriedly help him to his feet. At the same time he deliberately shuffled around to place his back to a pair of white mechs that had just stepped from the lift, laughing.

“In fact, let’s expedite our exit out of here. Those are two of my professors who just walked in.”

[Optimus Prime]

Orion's helm rose to peer across some of the monitors while Ratchet spoke. He had been expecting to see some on one channel, others a different one, perhaps able to distinguish where the debate was hiding amongst the drabble. Instead? They all seemed to be tuned to the shame news feed, except for a few sporadically placed ones that were displaying something so similar? It might as well have been the same channel.

It seemed... awfully wasteful for such an area, for they had enough monitors that they could cover a broad spectrum of things at once in order to appeal to most anyone that could find their way to this section of the school. Even if they had to read glyphs at the bottom to discern what was being said? Since the overlapping audio would create conflicting sounds? It would have been acceptable compared to this filler 'news'.

"I would not find issues for such things shown, so long as other channels were represented. As of now it is rather... heavily favored towards the operator's personal preferences."

Orion was going to say more, but things changed gears rather quickly. Next thing he knew? Ratchet had grabbed onto his elbow to try to pull him to his feet. The clerk locked up a bit at being pushed around, managing to be coaxed upright, able to be tugged to take a few clunked strides, before he planted his broad peds down in a stubborn attempt to stay where he was out of pure curiosity.

The clerk was questioning by nature. His job? Set him in a position where he had to pick through every element of a chunk of data, before processing it and pushing it to the next stage in order to make sure it was put in the proper location. This meant for his job? He was efficient and accurate. In outside situations? Such as this? It did not help particularly much and was more of a hindrance. As all he had now? All that ran through his processor? Were further questions that jumped up wanting to be answered.

Orion just stood there awkwardly, looking right at the two mech in question with no sense of trying to be discrete or sneaky for Ratchet's sake. It was as if he didn't realize fully that the medic in training was trying to get them out of there without getting the attention of the other two. Atop all this? It was made that much worse by the fact that they were both standing, while most others were sitting, making the bright colors of their frames stand out.

"Are you in trouble in some of your classes? That does not seem like you Ratchet."

He questioned this in an at ease tone that wasn't a yell, but most definitely was not a whisper, still not catching on that he should just... shut up and follow...

[Deleted]

At the sound of Orion’s voice the two white mechs stopped laughing and glanced in his direction. One of them looked amused, while the other regarded the pair in surprise.

Meanwhile, Ratchet had his hands on his back and was trying to steer him forward.

"Trouble? Me?" he hissed. "Puh-lease! I could waltz through my classes with my optics offlined and one hand welded behind my back. Which has a forty-five percent possibility of actually happening to you if you go to the right parties around here. But I would rather not meet with my instructors outside of a classroom setting. Do you know how awkward that is?"

He gave Orion a futile shove. "And why must you be so tall?!"

"Ratchet?"

Too late - the pair had fully aroused the curiosity of the while mechs, who had wandered across the observatory floor to inspect them. Both had pristine white and grey plating and golden optics, but the similarities ended there. One was small and prim, with neat dark hands and a spindly frame that offered few hints as to what he transformed into. The other was tall, easily Orion's height, with a similarly odd frame: a sleek cylinder lay vertically down his back, inset with cooling fins on his back and arms, while a pair of coils were mounted on his shoulders.

They were clearly bots employed in the sciences. It was one of the few fields where transforming into a photon microscope or an electrical generator was considered a plus.

The smaller bot held a datapad tucked the crook of his arm. He was the one who had spoken, while his taller colleague stood back with a laid-back smile.

"Oh, it is you, Ratchet," said the small robot. "You're still here? It's nice to see someone tackling their studies so, er, diligently. Or are you here to escort a visitor?"

He looked up at Orion, his gaze inquisitive.

[Optimus Prime]

Orion had planted his feet down, and while Ratchet had a bulkier and likely much stronger frame? He managed to hold his ground rather well. If Ratchet had stated upfront that it made him uncomfortable and he wanted to depart quickly? Orion would have complied instantly to the request without further question, saving such inquiries until later. However? Leaving things vague? Was the absolute wrong way to go about it as it made him want to question what was actually going on before blindly jumping forward.

Sadly by the time Ratchet had explained his reasoning?

It was far too late.

When the shove came after Ratchet had explained himself, Orion lurched forward a bit and took one gangly step forth that was more influenced by the shove, than by his own propulsion. He was going to walk, but the other mech had acknowledged his friend, and in reply? He simply turned about face to look back at the trio as they spoke, trying to right himself.

To him there wasn't really anything awkward here, just a friendly meeting. Orion didn't really have the personal experience to support Ratchet's prior claim, due to having never crossed paths with Alpha Trion outside of the hall of records. This also had not happened with those who showed him his job's details when he was first appointed. But even then? There was a difference from someone giving a one day crash course and setting him free to work on something he was already basically built for, and one teaching a far more complicated system of medicine and science.

"A bit of both."

Orion admitted this with a kind tone, fully settling in an idle yet polite stance. He would show respect to the two individuals, and be exceptionally mindful of what he said and did. He didn't intend to embarrass Ratchet for being associated with him in any way, even though he knew he could probably drive him partly insane in the given situation.

"Ratchet was working meticulously when I came by to make sure he did not overtax himself."

Orion was covering their bases so that Ratchet would not get in trouble for hauling a visitor around the academy. While he had been here multiple times to work in the library and some other sections, he technically wasn't a student here, and would much rather take the blame if there was any fault in it. Either way, he then dipped his helm slightly in a sign of respect, while he held out his servo in an offer for a handshake for introductions.

"I am Orion Pax. You are both Ratchet's instructors?"

He knew they were due to the medic's previous words, but he was curious about the specifics. It would be fascinating to be aware of what field each of them specialized in, since appearances alone could not give a hint. In addition he was hoping for names so he could properly identify them later on if needed.