Ep. 2 - Fit and Solder - (Closed)

[Deleted]

Takes place on Week 2, Day 4, the night of Smooth Jazz!

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"The Sahara Desert," said Ratchet.

He spoke flatly as he fitted the last faring between the armour of Jazz's back and shoulder. It slid into place and neatly autosealed, leaving a flexible joint behind. Ratchet absently tapped it to test the fitting. "We've had Autobot's crash land all across the planet in a variety of different and hostile terrains, and you somehow manage to find the largest, emptiest, and most arid one of them all. Why am I not surprised."

Despite the weary tone there was a touch of amusement in the old medic's optics as he stepped back to survey his handiwork. "At least you're in decent shape after the crash - relatively speaking. I've cleaned up or outright replaced the fouled or burnt out circuitry, and welded the cracks in your framework that I was able to find. That leaves just the knee and the shoulder left now in terms of larger repairs, but you should rest a bit to allow your auto-repair to finish the fine connections I've made first. We can tackle the rest later."

Ratchet lightly tapped Jazz's knee with the penlight he was holding before he turned back to his trolley of tools. The two Autobots were alone in the quiet medical bay, which had been powered up to accommodate the tricky repair work. Lights and monitors hummed over the berth that Jazz sat on.

Tools lightly clinked together as Ratchet methodically wipe them with a cloth before replacing them to their proper cases. He looked tired, but satisfied.

"Most of the damage I see looks old," he said. "Fatigued. Eroded parts, signs of corrosion, cracks. I take it wherever you've been since the Exodus could not provide you with routine maintenance?"

Ratchet looked back over his shoulder and raised a brow.

[Jazz]

      "Yeah, well... you know I was never one to find the easiest of ways to do things, Ratch. Ain't my fault for findin' this planet's own little Rust Sea. I didn't exactly have coordinates on where to land and the atmosphere wasn't the most... welcomin'. But at least I was able to land that ship without breakin' somethin', so you outta at least give me points for that much!"

      Throughout the repairs there had been pouts, with Ratchet poking here and there. Each time Jazz had some nerve to say 'ouch', it seemed the medic would do something on purpose to make him say it again. That usually got Jazz pouting and protesting that he'd done it on purpose, which he wouldn't put past the grumpy mech if he were anything like how he remembered.

      A satisfied grin came to Jazz's face once he was told that he was done for the moment and could rest up. Finally! No more prodding ( as of now ). That was enough to make the medic-queasy mech hold the audial-to-audial grin all the while that he shifted around and got a feel for the well repaired and otherwise repaired parts. It was almost difficult to recall the last time he could move without it feeling like something was stiffening up or that he was finally catching onto his age, but now he was refreshed and ready to tackle whatever came his way! Though the penlight tap brought him back to that silly little bit about the annoying creak in his knee. Whatever it was, it'd been there for a while so he'd gotten accustomed to the sound. It'd be strange to suddenly be... well.. without having to hear it. At least he had a bit more time to spend with the strange tick.

     Jazz slid off the berth, knee creaking in its jolly annoying fashion to anyone within earshot, rotating his shoulders and rubbing the newly cleaned out right one while his door wings shifted around to test out the joints there. At least he didn't feel like an old rusty mech anymore! To Jazz's processor he could take on whatever the Decepticions threw his way! Of course, rushing out of base and going after the first 'Con he ran across would probably gain him a forced stasis lock from the medic in front of him but it did make him chuckle some at the thought. Not the forced stasis, but knowing how Ratchet was... yeah, that chuckle had a little fear attached to it.

     The reminder of his damage brought Jazz back to the here and now since he was already going off and thinking about all the things he felt he could do at that very moment. He caught the optics of Ratchet and the grin fell from his faceplate into a sideways pout.

     "Well, Ratch, ya did leave without so much as a datapad tellin' where you were goin' or a comm line ya could have been reached at. Ya never called, didn't write; trembled my spark, it did- after all we'd been through together you just... poof! But, ya'know you're my favorite and I would have NEVER gone to anyone else had I the option to see you instead. Plus, ya know how I feel 'bout ya medic types anyway. You left me with no choice, Ratch! Broken sparked and all alone in need of repairs I had to shift through my options and betray all the wonderful work you'd done over the course of our relationship."

     Jazz pushed air through his intakes in a playful scoff after the overly dramatic and light-hearted little story, then stood at Ratchet's side so he could see what he was doing. Jazz- always curious, sometimes in the way. At least while he was watching he had enough sense to keep out of being in Ratchet's path of movement.

     "Really, though? The Exodus caused a bunch of trouble out there for those of us who were alone and didn't know where'da go. Findin' somewhere that you could get repairs and not end up with your T-Cog ripped out or a part missin' while ya recovered were few and far between, so ya took what ya could, really. Everyone was desperate to survive out there by whatever necessary means. Myself? I kept up with what was vital and left what wasn't. If it didn't stop me from bein' able to function, then it wasn't a priority."

     A servo was placed firmly on Ratchet's shoulder. "It's good to see ya after all this time, Brother. I'm glad that your team- Prime's team- was able to find stable ground." The servo clenched tightly, almost in a subconscious desperation of one who was afraid that, by letting go, the figure before them would turn out to be an illusion. "I'm sorry that my Squad was unable to make it back in time to escort the Ark off Cybertron."

     Ah, there was that guilt coming through. It was written all over his faceplate in spite of the smile he had forced there and spilled out in the tone of his voice.
    

[Deleted]

Ratchet sighed.

"We've all lost squads," he said. "Or teams, colleagues - subordinates. Friends. That we few who steered the Ark from Cybertron managed to survive the Exodus and all that followed is at least a small comfort, as is the well-being of those who have followed us to Earth."

He paused in the middle of placing a laser scalpel among an orderly row of cutters. Half of the row were missing. The case was worn, battered.

Ratchet glanced back at the hand on his shoulder.

"I am sorry to hear about your own teammates," he said. "I knew little of them, but I am sure their loss is keenly felt. There are some good Bots here at the Omega base at least. Perhaps you will rediscover a sense of camaraderie and solidarity with them. I can at least guarantee that reliable maintenance will not prove a scarcity here. Hmpf!"

The old medic snorted and snapped the case shut, ornery again. He stepped around Jazz and moved to return it to a rusted shelf near the berth.

"Anyway, it's good to see that you're functional," he said. "Treat that knee joint lightly for the next day or so, unless you truly wish to risk crippling it for a much longer duration. Has anyone assigned you quarters yet, or shown you around the base? It's a human eyesore, but it is at least serviceable for our needs. Barely."

[Jazz]

     Jazz retreated his servo as Ratchet moved around him, not reaching for him again. The moment of silent desperation was taken away with the motion and he stared at the medic as he went about replacing his tools. Jazz watched, not wanting to get in his way as he shifted around to purposely avoid being the obstacle who caused Ratchet to be even grumpier than he recalled. The former musician couldn't help but to smile again at the familiarity of this situation. Ratchet always was one to keep things nice and organized, unlike Jazz who had a complete mess in is quarters all the blasted time. He never could pass those random inspections from his superior at the Elite Guard Headquarters...

     "Ya always were the best at what ya did, Ratch. Thanks for the repairs, man."

     It was a passing compliment, but Jazz didn't think the medic really needed to hear that from him. He was certain he was quite aware that he was already the best the 'Bots had to offer in the field. Many bots could only hope to be as infamous and respected as Ratchet - Jazz included.

     Though perhaps the statement was a little peace offering to 'I'm sorry that I've taken such horrible care of myself, so thank you for repairin' me without much scoldin'.' Who knew.

     "Ratch, I did just get here and kinda got dropped into your awaitin' servos. I haven't had the chance to set up nor look around. I ain't exactly gonna go wanderin' around when the ol' great Ratch is waitin' to inspect my systems, else I may end up bein' disabled so I can't go off hidin' somewhere." Jazz grinned to the medic and reached over to pick up a rather peculiar little tool. It had to be something given to Ratchet on this planet, because he'd never seen anything like it before. Then again, this wasn't Jazz's field of expertise so it could have easily been something commonly used; just never on him. Quickly he replaced it to the shelf where he'd found it before Ratchet snapped at him for touching his things.

     "Now, if you're offerin' to show me around, I would appreciate it. Give us a bit of time to catch up where I ain't laid out on berth like I'm sufferin' from some major malfunction." He stepped to the side, indicating that if Ratchet were to be the one to show him about then he would follow without even needing to be asked to. Jazz probably would have tagged along at his heels anyway even if he had been told to beat it.

     "I take it Optimus is in good standin'? And the other 'Bots here... anyone I would know?" It seemed unlikely but it was a question that opened the door for some more conversation. That was not passed up, especially since he'd been without social company for quite a long while.

[Deleted]

Ratchet snorted.

"Perhaps," he said. "Let me think…"

He dusted off his hands and turned back to Jazz. He lifted one hand and began a running count on his fingers. "Arcee and Bumblebee both are present. Red Alert is here. Did you ever meet him? Mirage is as well. Hmm. Air Raid is among us-"

The old medic glanced to the corner of the room. "As is Wheeljack. In spirit, if not in body. Hmm. Given your aversion to medics I am going to leap to the assumption that you have not met Dusk before. There are others here as well that you might recognise. I'll provide you with an up-to-date roster once Red Alert has cleared your access to our meagre computer database. As for the matter of a tour…"

Ratchet pressed his mouth into a line as he thought it over, his optics narrowed.

"I suppose I have a little time to spare to show you around the base. Maybe I can get you caught up on current events while I'm at it. Will you follow me?"

With a waggle of one finger, Ratchet gestured for Jazz to follow him from the medical bay and back into the control room. "Anything you would like to see first?"

[Jazz]

      As Ratchet went through the various members of the team who had found their way to this planet Jazz stood there listening. A couple of the names he recognized through conversation with others, most were strangers to him entirely, and one or two of them that he DID know he was actually surprised to hear were amongst them. Either way, Jazz would need to get acquainted with this new team, even the--

      "Now, now, Ratch. Ya act like I'm completely shunnin' medics or somethin'. I used to see you all the time- kickin' and fussin' sometimes but that's beside the point." Jazz chuckled and shrugged some. "Yeah, yeah, so you're right as always, man. I ain't heard of this 'Dusk' character before... and don't be surprised if I ain't gonna jump to meet 'im right away."

     Jazz noticed the look that Ratchet gave after the mentioning of the tour. For a split moment he thought that he would merely turn him loose on the base to find his own way around, which wouldn't have been too hard since Jazz had an excellent sense of direction and this place didn't seem too easy to get lost in, but it didn't mean that he wanted to. This was an opportunity to catch up with his old comrade and he just wanted to do so when he wasn't stuck in a creepy place like the medical bay. When he was gestured to follow Jazz picked up his place just enough to gain ground to his side...

... with a 'creak, creak, creak' of his knee joint with every step...

... and then walked casually to keep pace. As for the matter of what to see first?

      "This is your domain, ol'friend, and I'm just an off-world visitor. I ain't got my bearin's enough to know what I wanna see first, so you just start off the tour and I'll follow your lead. Ya know how I roll. Gotta know the ins and outs of this place and all the juicy details of this strange planet ya'll found yourself grounded on. I imagine ya came here straight from Cybertron, yeah?"

[Deleted]

Ratchet gave a noncommittal hum.

"Not entirely," he said. "We made a few detours along the way. Not all of them were intentional. But that is neither here nor now. We're on Earth, and it is here we shall stay for the time being. With a good deal of luck, we may find our way back to Cybertron someday. Somehow."

The old medic sounded a little petulant. But as they walked back out into the silo he made a broad gesture.

"You've passed through this room once already, but allow me to show it to you properly," he said. "This is the main control room. The entire base is a decommissioned missile silo 'generously' loaned to us through the good-will of the local government. It's shielded and hidden; the Decepticons do not know we are here. We intend to keep it that way."

Their footsteps echoed up and down the massive silo. Mindful of Jazz's injuries, Ratchet slowly led him to the monitors. The screens shed a green and welcoming light.

"This is our central computer station," he said. "Most of our ground bridge controls and scanners run through it, as does base security and our basic life and climate control systems. You can access the main database from here as well."

He laid a gentle hand on the panel.

"I'm sorry to say you'll likely be restricted to monitor duty for a day or two, until the last of your injuries are repaired. I should introduce you to Red Alert to familiarize you with what those duties entail. Have you ever met him before? Perhaps back on Cybertron?"

[Jazz]

     "Trust me, Ratch... ya don't ever wanna go back to Cybertron." Jazz seemed a little more mellow saying that than he should have, but that was the way he was. He leaned up against the wall to the side of the control panel and crossed his arms over his chassis, staring down at his pedes as one pivoted from side to side while resting on the heel. "What I saw that's left of our home? It ain't a sight ya wanna have embedded in your memory banks. We thought Praxus bein' demolished was bad? Well, that's just spark-play compared to the entire planet side. Even the Undergrid ain't in good shape."

     Jazz uncrossed his arms and pushed from the wall, rotating his damaged shoulder.

      "Just remember it for what it was and leave it at that. It's really gonna be better for ya that way, man."

     Earth. Well, at least he knew the name of the planet they had settled on now. It was a matter of going out and exploring this new homeland and seeing what they could make of it. Ratchet's words of wanting to return to Cybertron weren't unheard of to Jazz, as most of those who had been forced to flee their home had said the same thing. If they knew what he had seen the cycles to follow the complete darkness that overcame Cybertron? Yeah, it wouldn't be good. Then again, some perhaps had...

     Monitor duty. Right.

     Nope.

     "Can't say I heard of the guy," he said in response to if he knew Red Alert. Truthfully, there were designations he didn't know yet. "You and I kinda operated under different big wigs, remember? Different teams? You had Optimus, we had... well... whoever was the better squad leader who didn't get their team killed." That last bit sounded somewhat bitter, probably from the bad taste he had in his mouth over it. "I ain't gonna need to sit around waitin' on repairs to finish, Ratch. I'm functionin' at a very good optimal level- thanks to you, of course- and ready to see what these Decepticons are up to. I can ground bridge on out to anywhere ya think I need to be flopped down at and do some investigatin'."

     Jazz's creaky knee joint said otherwise on the whole 'investigating' part, since that would surely give him away if he went snooping around Decepticon strangleholds. Not the most sneaky of ways to manage oneself and kind of foolish. Then again, Jazz had been cooped up in a ship long enough to last for quite a bit of his lifetime and wanted to get out and explore. That was, afterall, part of why he was having this little trip around base. He needed to MOVE. He shifted around a little, his doorwings fluttering behind him as he creaked his happy little way forward to indicate he was ready to move on.

     "Anyway, it's a nice computer. Ain't our tech entirely, but she looks solid enough to get us through what we need so don't sound so glum. What's next on the tour? And tell me some about Earth and our accomidatin' hosts. Are the ones ya mentioned the only ones who followed the Ark's signal? No... others from the Elite Guard yet?"

[Deleted]

"Monitor duty only," said Ratchet firmly. There was the slightest warning hint of, 'kindly don't tell me how to do my job' in his voice. "It won't kill you to sit at the monitors and rest for one day. Many of our current Autobots have already put in double-shifts in the past, and to my knowledge they didn't melt out of boredom at the ordeal."

He brushed off the panel.

"And yes, it's solid," he said. "I built it. Come along. I'll show you the general quarters area next. This way."

He turned with a gesture toward a narrow hall that led off from the silo.

"We have one other Elite Guard member here," he said. "His name is Smokescreen. A good 'bot, and eager, if very young. I don't know if you would have heard of him or not. To my knowledge he was among the last of the Guard on Cybertron, trained well after your time. But perhaps the two of you will have similar stories of experiences and instructors, and the like. Let's see. Who else is among us that you might be familiar with."

Ratchet squinted in thought as they trod down the hall. It was tall, but clearly worn and aged, its corners flecked with rust. Ventilation ducts rattled overhead.

"There's Bluestreak," he said. "Another survivor of Praxus. A nice fellow, if a bit… chatty. Hm. I mentioned Mirage and Air Raid already. Rook is here. Glad to have him on board. Fortress Maximus was here, but has since moved on. Zoom-Zoom is also former Spec Ops. Perhaps you know him, or your circles overlapped. Really, I should just give you a download of our current roster. It is certainly growing by every month that passes. As for Earth, ugh."

He rolled his optics with a weary sigh. "I could go on for days about this planet. But I won't. What would you like to know about in particular?"

[Jazz]

      "Ratchet the Incredible! Buildin' the most high-tech things of awesome you can ever ask for! Please-don't-put-me-on-monitor-duty-no?-Thanks!"

      The last bit was rushed as they left the room, hoping that Ratchet would just let it fly on without musing on it too much. He could always say later on that Ratchet gave him the all clear should anyone ask. A big planet, previously unexplored by him, sitting out here with the opportunity to learn all the culture it had to offer? Yeah, he wasn't gonna be hiding out in the base for long, one way or another. Probably get himself in trouble later but he'd deal with that... well... later.

      Jazz followed Ratchet as he continued on with the roster, looking towards the vents as they hissed and rattled with the passing of air circulation. He took note of the rust and the otherwise... old... feel of the place. It had character, that was for sure. Somehow Jazz figured that those little tidbits were on Ratchet's unacceptable list... with a lot more that he was certain to figure out later.

      "Yeah, I don't know 'em. Unfortunately the Guard started carin' less about screenin' that last short spitfall we had towards the end and we had more students comin' in then we could handle trainin'. Ya know what happens when there's more around needin' to be taught than there are handlers to teach. Chaos, man! A lot of things had to be skipped over just to make sure we got to the majority of 'em. Kinda sad how it turned out. Zoom-Zoom doesn't seem like a designation that rings any bells but his face may be one I got stored in somewhere."

      Ratchet had asked the worse question he probably could have at the moment while Jazz was taking in everything else. What would he like to know about? A grin came to his face, almost too wide to be normal, and he stared right at Ratchet even if he didn't have optics in which to do so.

      "I want to know EVERYTHIN'! Culture, History... Probably less history and sciences, but.... Oh come on, Ratch'! Ya know what gets my gears goin', man! Don't hold back on me now, my favorite guide in the entire planetary system."

[Deleted]

Ratchet stifled a groan.

"You are asking a lot of questions about my least favourite subject," he said. "Planet Earth. But I will answer to the best of my capacity. You will have to bear with me if the details are not particularly 'colourful'."

He moodily hooked two fingers around the word. For a moment he walked in silence, as if considering where to begin.

"I suppose I should start with the dominant species," he said. "We are currently at the mercy of the humans: a small, moderately developed bipedal organic race. Their history is bloody and violent, their technology is primitive compared to our own, and it would take me at least a day to even briefly summarize their wildly varying - cultures. I would suggest to you that if you are interested in learning more about human culture your best plan of action would be to access their planetary datafeed and begin browsing to your spark's content."

Ratchet paused. A look of feigned mortification came over his face.

"Wait a minute. Maybe I don't. Perhaps you should disregard that. You and the Internet seem like a dangerous mix."

[Jazz]

Humans. At least he knew the now what the creatures on this planet were called. Even though he hadn't seen one yet, the way that Ratchet was describing them made him wonder if it were safe to cross such paths. Here he was thinking of a bipedal organic with a short temper that was prone to violence who took enjoyment out of keeping the Autobots under lock and key. Why were they at the humans mercy if there wasn't something to fear from them? If the Decepticons were the threat that brought them here in the first place...

Jazz's spark jumped in excitement in its containment chamber as something new was told to him and his visor brightened momentarily in interest. Datafeed?

"Datafeed? They have their own datafeed? Is it anythin' like The Grid we were workin' with on Cybertron? If it is... That is SO awesome! Don't keep it from me, Ratch! Now that I know of somethin' like that bein' on this planet I just gotta access it!"

Well, it was clear where Jazz's mind was wandering off to, like a switch had been flicked. The thought of being able to access all of the information on the culture of the planet they had stranded themselves on just pinged his sensors in all the right ways. Accessing the information on the humans also meant that he could see for himself what horrible things the humans were made of and he could find out just what they were up against. That was enough to bring him back to his previous thought.

"Alright, alright, ya ain't gotta go on with what ya don't wanna. I can probably find out most of it on my own anyway... Adventure, and all'a that. Not like I hadn't had a job doin' that sorta stuff or nothin'." Jazz grinned and shifted some, his knee creaking rather loudly, unhappily at the movement. Jazz didn't even give it a glance.

"Well, why don't ya tell me how we're farin' against our favorite band of mistfits and anythin' else a planetside rookie like myself outta know?"

[Deleted]

Ratchet made a face.

"The Decepticons," he muttered. "My other favourite subject. Very well. Where to begin."

He frowned.

"As you are likely aware, during the Exodus the Decepticons pursued us with their own warship: the Nemesis. I regret to inform you that it survived the ensuing flight through space intact and is currently somewhere in orbit around this planet. Its current position is unknown to us. Even as it is unable to pinpoint the location of our base, so are we unable to track its movements. It is highly cloaked and shielded, of course, and we lack the technology to penetrate its defenses."

Another grumpy face. "Yet another situation where human technology fails us. I suppose I shall count my blessings that the Decepticons remain unaware of this missile silo. Given that they outnumber us nearly a thousand to one, we have many detailed security measures in place to maintain its secrecy. I suggest you speak to Red Alert if you wish to be brought up to date on them."

The old medic paused. His expression grew sober.

"There is another reason why maintaining our secrecy is of vital importance on this planet, aside from frightening the indigenous species. I suppose you haven't heard a thing about MECH yet. Consider yourself fortunate that they did not notice the arrival of your shuttle."