[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Aces Low [Patches, Jetfire, and Sundance]

[Sundance]

Week 3, Day 5, early afternoon.

For a while, there was nothing but the darkness outside the universe. How long was a while? Immeasurable. Literally. There was nothing to measure, and nothing to measure with. Indeed the only thing that was aware of the passage of time was sentient thought, and with no thought and nothing to compare, time simply did not exist.

Did the tree make a sound?

Did the tree even exist?

There was no forest.

Until there was.

In an entirely different - but overlapping - subset of all existence, it had only been about 27 hours.

Points of light appeared in the darkness clustered towards the edges of awareness. They sort of looked like stars in the night sky but didn’t flicker or burn the right way. And they didn't move, their position seemed fixed relative to the awareness detecting them. They weren't stars, they weren't even sources of photons, they were nothing at all other than errant signals caused by induction in pulverised nerves.

Sundance tried to blink, but somehow couldn't. The stars in her vision moved with her head, fixed to her somehow. What she saw made no sense. And then pain flowed back in - everywhere. Some places were slightly sore, others ached. Memory burst back in and shook the rest of her consciousness back to the surface.

“I’m awake,” she muttered through a very dry aching throat. Waking up from surgery was not a new experience. But the surgery itself…?

Sundance tried to sit up and see her legs.

[Patch]

Lights... sounds... A miasma of input would swarm the young femme as she woke.

It started at her digit tips, a tingle of sensation. The harsh warmth of cold lights bearing down upon her forehead. Burning twinges- deepened aches, surrounded by heat damaged plating from newly solidified welds. It aaall poured in, sluggishly; yet faster than any poor spark could be expected to pick it all up, and carry in time with the pace.

The chirps, and fans of monitors would fall in, as Suni settled into wakefulness. Speeding, progressively. An unsteady metronome to her mind, and her spark, and fuel pump as they pushed against the strain of induced stasis back towards regular function.

As she began to lift herself, however, a freckled silver hand would plant firmly on the center of her chestplate.

“Whoa, whoa whoa-”

Patch’s voice was smooth, and lowered. Casual on some level, though very clearly steadied. She was standing right there beside her, rounded features soft, as Sundance came to. Brow ridges knit together as her servo shifted to find that of her patient.

“Take it easy Suni, you’ve just been through a lot.”

[Jetfire]

Time, to Jetfire, was still a concept he was having to readjust to, after having been sailing through space with little point of reference to night or day. He did however believe it had been just over a full Earth-day since he'd spoken to Sundance, and now here she was. He hadn't been available when her initial call had come in, as he'd been preoccupied piecing things together from the Death Valley incident. Two separate instances within less than half a week, both targeting Autobots who'd gone off alone. At the very least however, Suni had been recovered mostly intact.

He remembered, almost fondly now, the many times Ratchet had attempted to push him in the direction of a more medically-oriented career. Medics who could fly to their patients were in more demand than flying scientists, after all. Jetfire hadn't ever given any ground to those pleas, though he wasn't above at least taking a few cursory passes through a medical bay. He knew what was what, what went where, and where what definitely didn't go. With Ratchet out of the med bay for the foreseeable future, Jetfire's qualifications might as well have been those of a nurse.

Their patient hadn't died on the operating table, which meant that his assistance to Patch wasn't entirely detrimental, as he was little more than a tyro to someone like her. While the resident medic had taken the brunt of the work to stabilize Sundance, Jetfire had busied himself as her assistant nurse. Her massive, massive, Mach 3-capable nurse. The wings weren't conducive to an accident-free working space either, hence why he had done his utmost respect Patch's space while she'd worked.

The hard part was over now, though. Rebuilding her was another matter, one he didn't doubt would take the two of them to work on once more. Jetfire had been dividing himself between sterilizing instruments and checking Sundance's levels for blips when he heard her finally wake up. He turned, and saw it wasn't a ghost who'd just spoken up. Somehow, he couldn't help but smile. Jetfire raised a hand, and gave their patient a cordial little wave from the end of the room. "Fancy seeing you here, Sundance."

His attempts at levity only going so far, Jetfire set aside his task for the moment to approach the operating area, standing opposite Patch at the foot of the bed. He kept otherwise quiet as doctor and patient no doubt had much to discuss.

[Sundance]

Hearing two familiar friendly voices, Sundance instinctively tried to relax and let herself gently and slowly lay back down. And with consciousness now firmly established, so came awareness and memory. The last moments of her fight with Thundercracker, flying by radar in the blinded dark of full day, a jam in her chaff tubes, kicking a missile....

She knew where she was, who was there by their voices but...her situation. She knew she was blind. She knew she had been hit multiple times. She knew her legs were destroyed.

She knew she was trapped.

Panic, visceral and deep, enclosing, encompassing, entombing, clawed in at the edges. Her spark pulse began to quicken, her servos and actuators began to tense. She wanted to run and fly and flee.

She had flown this storm before, a hundred times, a thousand maybe? She knew she was alive. She knew the sun would rise again. Sundance forced a calmness through her broken chassis and through her spark and mind. The pain was real, the damage was real, she accepted it. With a deep exhale through her vents, she pushed the panic away again. She disliked waking up from forced unconsciousness for exactly this reason, her phobia triggered by the feeling of immobility. She endured nonetheless. She had no choice, she had to, to grin and bear it. And grin she did.

"Oh hi Patches, hey there Jets, good to see you both too." Her voice, weak and harsh, still carried a note of levity at the joke. Humor forced or not was good for her. Now she was allowed to make bad jokes at her own expense. Bonus!

With trepidation, she brought up her left hand - her right hurt - to her face and felt the edges of whatever plating was covering her optics. Then why could she see stars?

"Prognosis?"

[Patch]

Patch’s servo shifted away as Sundance reached to touch her face. Readily allowing any minor movement her patient set out for.

“First things first, how’s your pain?”

Patch intended to keep this bit brief- Sundance could not see herself right now, the medic wanted to have utmost respect for that. Though… If she was in a great deal of physical discomfort, any emotional trauma would likely be all the worse for it.

It was a small thing to offer, comfort. Though the young femme knew first hand how stupidly much of a difference it could make in nasty situations. A bit more space in one’s vents to breath deeper could make loss easier to swallow, and process.

“Your optics are damaged, I offlined them on purpose. I think one can be fixed, but I haven’t been able to do it yet.”

A very nice way of saying ‘you’re likely blind in one eye now, and you’re just plain blind for the foreseeable future’.

She un-shyly placed the tips of her digits into the back of Suni’s hand, and pressed it, guiding it slightly lower than the temporary visor to where she wanted the other femme to sense.

“You’ve got some welding on your face…” She spoke calmly. Lowly and easily. “Got some wires on your chest too, so be careful of those.” The beeps of the monitors could likely be heard from those as well, up and beside the femme’s helm. Low and steady. Matching Suni’s pace.

[Jetfire]

Jetfire, ever the good nurse, kept quiet as the medical professional delivered her prognosis. It was probably for the best that Sundance hadn't been able to see the extent of the damage. Being able to see and assess the pain helped one's brain to to formulate an appropriate neurological response. It was more so to block the psychological response, as Jetfire had no doubt she was in a great deal of at least moderate discomfort. Though, that did get him thinking.

Getting a body back to 100% fell within Patch's wheelhouse, and less so his own. During the war, Jetfire's non-combat services involved getting bodies past 100%. It was true, but thinking about it like that always made him feel like a Swindle. Upgrades, perfectly legal ones, were always welcome in times of war, and by the end of it he was sporting less than 20% of his original frame. Sundance, even before she was struck blind, had been recording a healthy amount of telemetry data from the battle, data that would be absolutely vital in formulating any future improvements.

To put it bluntly, Suni had been outclassed, a fact evidenced by the current state of her frame. She was an excellent flier, he knew that much, but she wasn't built for serious combat beyond the odd scouting skirmish. This was a skirmish, but a heavy one at that. If she wanted more than a rebuild, she'd get one, per his expertise. But, there had been plenty of fliers during the war who'd taken nasty hits like that, and had sworn off combat duty post-recovery. Jetfire didn't know the little flier well enough yet to judge whether or not she'd be eager to get right back out there, in her own role or a new one. He did have a feeling, however.

For now however, Jetfire continued to hold his words to himself. No sense dumping the prospect of a rebuild and fresh upgrades on the poor femme just yet, not while she was in the middle of the initial report.

[Sundance]

Sundance's own gentle nimble fingers felt for the weld lines that Patch guided her too. They would leave behind decent scars that would slowly fade over the millenia, replacing ones that had gone before. Some were small, some less so. The flier shifted her focus more to self diagnostic rather than any self pity as she continued to feel the edges of the weld and explore her injuries and repairs. 

"Clean smooth lines, you've a good hand there Patches." Sundance applied a little more force to better ascertain the damage underneath. "Tender, slightly bruised, but mostly good. Also, I can see lights, like stars, at the periphery of my vision on both sides, but fixed relative to my head." She didn't understand it but didn't feel worried about it just yet. 

Her left hand moved down to her throat gently, carefully."Raw and dry but expected, sore.." She rolled her head just slightly side to side and gradually increased the range of motion. "functional, just sore."

Next the little flier raised her left arm up straight, flexing fingers first, then wrist, elbow and finally shoulder. "Left arm is solid, feels normal." She next went through the same range of motions with her right arm, after which she inspected by touch the repairs done on the forearm. "Fifth digit ulnar actuator is grabbing slightly. Secondary barrel interjunction conduit feels...crumpled?" She wasn't sure, it felt wrong but in no definitive way. "And the additional weapon fuel line through the shoulder cuff rotator is pinched. Again." This part was normal at least, an ongoing issue since she had had the fuel lines added for her weapons through a shoulder connection not designed for the additional lines. 

She then very carefully of the wires, brushed her delicate fingers down her chest tracing lines over new welds, and patch plates. There was some strange injuries under there she realised. Injuries from one alt sometimes carried over quite weirdly to the other alt. Her internal organs were sensitive in some ways, but not in others. Actual damage and pain feedback was minimal. She'd have to be careful. Down lower, her hips felt tender, possibly bruised but no worse than that. The shock from a missile would exceed safe limits but evidently not structural ones this time. 

Then her legs. It was a difficult moment. The part of her that feared helplessness wanted to flee, but also fight. Sundance pushed that aside and focused on evaluation, the first step to beating a challenge was facing it. Her thighs felt burnt, her knees ached and her feet itched...but that wasn't right was it? She wanted to see her legs...but all she could see was stars.

"Is it ok to ping? To use my radar in here?" She asked her guardians. It wasn't polite to use radar inside, but there was reason to on the odd occasion. Also she had no idea how it would affect the medical equipment.

[Patch]

Patch hummed slightly at the complement. The sort of low sound that came through a courteous smile. She did appreciate it and frankly, Suni wasn’t wrong but… It was hard for her to marvel at her own work right now. Her patient was here, and that was the baseline; but a greater medic could have done better.

She was taking this… Surprisingly well.

It seemed the after effects- the usual loopyness of Stasis was affecting Sundance remarkably little, especially for a flyer of such a small size… Though in fairness fear could do a lot to bring one back to reality. This was a LOT to take in.

As her patient continued to speak, Patch listened intently. Looking to the limbs, and accompanying parts as they were described. Her bodily awareness was also something to be admired so soon after surgery.

Patch… Had a guess this was not her first rodeo.

Many fliers experienced crashes at some point in their career- and regardless of what Patch had seen in her file, it was clear her current patient knew the drill when it came to these sorts of awakenings.

"Is it ok to ping? To use my radar in here?"

“Yes. But- before you do.”

There wasn’t gonna be a good way to say this.
So she said it quickly.

“Sundance I had to amputate your legs.”

Patch was deathly serious, though these words. A low sort of warble to her heavier tone, as though she were injured and trying to hide it.

“I still have them- they’re still okay.”

Spoken quickly after, perhaps the smallest puff of air as she seemed to put her hands up- move them closer a moment. Holding them up, in some semblance of reassurance. In a moment, however, her tone relented, defeated. Honest. If nothing else she had to be honest.

“They’re fragged, Suni. They’re torn all to shreds. I’m gonna try to salvage what I can, but I don’t know how much I can do.”

[Jetfire]

If one were to take a diagram depicting the body of a flier and direct their servo to what they believed to be the most critical component, most would pick the wings. They would be correct, however not so much as to discount the importance of everything else; in this case, the legs. Most glaringly, they were responsible for movement that did not require a full wingspan. However, they also tended to carry the vital landing gear necessary for safe landings, as well as rapid landings should the seeker decide that landing gear was overrated compared to the flat of one's pede.

Patch had done a commendable job hacking off Sundance's legs, though Jetfire would not dare to compliment her aloud with that language. The severance had been clean, quick, and precise. Much more generous and careful than Sundance's attacker's own efforts. There'd been plenty of friends and squad mates who'd needed a limb removed during the war, so Jetfire had license to say the sight didn't bother him too much. Rarely, if ever, had he sat in for the duration of such a procedure, however. He made a mental note to ask Patch about her ligature technique, should he ever find himself the need to remove one of his own limbs safely.

Jetfire's mind wrestled with the correct words. Patch was very careful in addressing her patient, something the grouchy scientist was less versed in. That wasn't to say he had forgotten some of his early lessons with Ratchet, in that vain attempt to move him into a medical field. Rule 1: Don't promise anything you can't deliver. He could build legs, without a doubt. Desperately, he would've liked to add that he'd get to work building her the best legs he could to replace what had been lost. Jetfire would try, at least. But as always, the materials situation would prevent him from getting the full return on his conviction.

Rule 2: Do what you can.

"I'm afraid I don't have much in the way of a differential diagnosis to offer here. But Suni, Patch and I will do everything in our power to get you up and kicking again. I promise."

[Sundance]

"Patches, you're good, just thank you for doing all you could. I did kick a missile to save my aft after all. Heck, I've been banged up harder by my last conjunx...that's a joke by the way." Sundance sighed, it hurt her throat to talk, but she would suffer worse before she'd be made to stop.

"And you Sir Mach Plus, I won't hold you to any promises made in the heat of passion. It's not like I can kick your skid plate if you don't deliver. Though maybe you could salvage me a straight compression buffer from what remains of the Ark." He had already impressed her in several ways. If he could make true on what he offered, then that was just going above and beyond.

"And for the record, I'm fifty percent shock, fifty percent denial, ummmm, fifty percent laughter is the best medicine, fifty percent gonna walk this off...and fifty percent bad at maths." The little flier had lifter a finger as though she was making a point. Sundance was aware she was yet to actually see herself, and that she was rambling a little. Possibly more than a little. With the harsh rasp added to her voice, above her usual raspiness, her voice didn't sound too good to her own audials.

She mentally pushed that all aside and focused on sitting up. Her movements were slow and careful. Every joint and actuator she engaged was tested as she added the strain of her weight. Every new ache and jabbing pain was noted and measured.

Once she was mostly upright, her arms stretched behind her supporting her weight, she blinked her radar once. Low power because she truly had little strength to put into it. What she got back was the size and layout of the room, berths, and equipment she could not name. Beside her was Patch, standing about the same height Sundance would have nominally - now maybe two feet taller Suni mused. Jetfire was there standing tall over them, almost twice the height of Patch.

Seeing those two there gave Suni a bit more strength. She turned to face where her legs were and began pulsing her radar, picking out shapes and details - scanning. The exercise only took about four seconds, there really wasn't much to see. Her thighs looked normal, and what was left of her knee joints and shin struts were wrapped in bandage plating. The fact that her shins projected about one third of their previous length below her knees, and the sheer lack of anything further below was utterly confirmed.

As carefully as she had sat up, she slumped back down. The defeat and resignation in her field however lasted only a couple of seconds. A new challenge was taking shape in her mind. Sight she could work around once she had recovered as much as she could. Her radar compensated enough to get around. She did however need legs - or some alternative for taking off and landing as she sported no undercarriage. A slightly different idea began to percolate, maybe she could replace her optics with those of her holotar.

Without warning to the others, a soft light emitted from what was left of her windshield, slid to the side, and consolidated into a hard light avatar of a Human. Standing next to Suni on her berth, the small figure raised a hand and waved. "Hi guys. Optical holo cortex appears undamaged."

[Patch]

She was handling this better than anyone… Should.
Which only made the young medic worry.

Was Sundance’s previous conjunx… Abusive? She didn’t know how else to take the comment on being beaten up by them. Perhaps this positivity and shrugging of fear was a trauma response? That would follow… Though it didn’t make her any more fine- worse yet it meant she was dealing with more.

Phycological care wasn’t Patch’s strong suit. It wasn’t something she had been trained in beyond the very bare minimum in AIT. Sure, it had inadvertently become something she’d needed to learn how to handle, but Patch was not a therapist. She could talk things through, as a friend, but she knew she was lacking the genuine skill and training of someone with a career on that path.

As the yellow femme continued, Patch idly angled a bit to the side. Stubby, unpainted digits flicked softly across one of a few green, hexagonal screens that illuminated the space. Looking at readouts, adjusting frequencies. Medic stuff.

Concern began to grow in the young femme’s mind as Suni started listing off… vastly impossible percentages. Only for that to shift once more as she finished the sentence with-

Bad at… Maths?

Perhaps self deprecation was another trauma response?

“No no no no no- Suni, stay down.” At this Patch angled to her once more, going to place a hand on her shoulder. “You’ll get a chance to…” It seemed the exercise wasn’t up for debate at the moment. She trailed off just as quickly, as the yellow femme began using her radar. Though it may or may not have helped the process to stay quiet, Patch found that was all she could do.

Suni’s expression turned to one of concentration- Patch began to worry. It must have finally been hitting her… Only to then be surprised by the the appearance of the little human form.

Maybe there wasn’t much more she could do to help this land right now- but By Primus she had to at least try. Patch lowered to sit on a rolling stool beside the birth, getting optic-level with the small illusion of light.

“Suni… Are you. Are you okay? I know this is a lot all at once.”

[Jetfire]

Hearing that, Jetfire raised his brows. Hearing it was a joke, he promptly lowered them. Goodness; Sundance had a better bedside manner than both of her nurses did. Hearing her subsequent request, Jetfire's brows raised right up again, this time one slightly more elevated than the other. "The compression buffer?" He repeated. "From the Ark?" He would also repeat. Suni's request was processed rapidly. It was true that the Autobots had kept the Ark, or at least a majority of it, within Omega-1. It wouldn't be impossible to cannibalize some of it for parts to help rebuild their patient, though Jetfire would be remiss if he didn't notify anyone about it ahead of schedule.

All of his contemplation had manifested in a scrunched look on Jetfire's face, which released as soon as he had an answer on hand. "I can check to see if Optimus will let me near it...." He trailed, a subdued grin on his face. "But if that ends up being the case, you'd be flying around with a piece of history; I'd call that poetic, as you almost were history." He'd never been one to ruminate on the mortality of others, but Sundance was alive for him to do so... and also, he enjoyed that little comparison in his head far too much to keep it to himself.

Jetfire checked the femme's math for a picosecond. "If you cut those percentages down to twenty percent each, you wouldn't need that last descriptor." Which would mean Suni would be 25% shock, denial, laughter, and going-to-walk-this-off. Probably best not to get wrapped up in the math, now.

A twinge of slight concern colored Jetfire's face as Suni sat up suddenly, despite having full confidence in Patch to address it. It would seem that neither of them needed to, as their patient was merely testing out an alternative method of perception. First her radar apparently, and then an avenue the old scientist-slash-fighter-jet hadn't yet considered.

The sudden appearance of Sundance's holomatter avatar visibly startled Jetfire, reflexively lifting his right pede up and away from it with a slight jump. The absolute last thing anyone in this room needed was him accidentally stepping on it... it being so small, and all. He cautiously waved to little Suni, now without fear of startling himself and stepping on her.

An idea began to marinate within Jetfire's noggin.

"Patch," He started. "I think... that for now, at least, it may be helpful for the both of us to engage with our patient in a similar manner." Preemptively, the mech took several large steps back. It would level the playing field, Jetfire felt. Sundance couldn't leave the medical bay anytime soon, but it didn't necessarily have to feel that way to her. Kneeling down, he began to shift forms through a mass of red and white plates, thrusters, and wings, until that familiar visage of his aerial form was on display in the center of the medical bay.

A light flashed inside the jet's cockpit, which opened shortly thereafter. Climbing out of it was Jetfire, albeit small, and human. He had a head of somewhat unkempt blond hair, plus a bit of scruff on his chin, topped off by the spectacles on his nose, the blue flight suit on his torso, and the lab coat on his shoulders. "Sundance still has the capability to ambulate and engage with people while bedridden like this, while we might normalize it by partaking in it ourselves." Jetfire noticed that his avatar tended to gesture more animatedly with his hands as he spoke than he himself did, while talking over toward the Suni-tar.

Even now, he had roughly a foot of height on her. As this was the case, he looked down to her next to him and smiled, before turning that smile up to Patch. "Your thoughts, Patch?"

[Sundance]

"Patch," this time is was Suni who showed compassion, "I know that I'm not physically ok currently, and just maybe never again. But I'm a flier, a racer, and a soldier. I've been knocked out of the sky more times than I care to admit. But I will rise again. Suni by name, sunny by nature." Easy words to say, but the strength and experience behind them went so much further. Maybe it was her spark, or maybe just her original customer service build, but putting on a brave face for the sake of others was instinctive. Not letting her self feel down when she was downed made it easier to lift others. And as a natural racer, the risk of injury was just an accepted part of the challenge.

Like Sparkplug before, Patch now, and all the doctors in-between, having faith in the people beside her also helped mitigate any emotional trauma Sundance might have endured. Pain could be reduced and injuries could be endured, Suni kept it that simple to herself.

"And Jetfire really?" Holo-Suni cracked a grin. "I'd be doing the Ark a favor, plus I'm already in the history data banks if you dig deep enough into race records. City Circuit Endurance League - Vos Newalphamerica Amateur class, season 847th. I placed third overall." It wasn't the greatest claim to fame, but it was Suni's and she enjoyed it.

At first, she didn't get the implication of what Jetfire said. Ambulate? And then her surprised her further. Seeing another transform was of course nothing new, though Sundance didn't initially have any clue as to why Jetfire was doing so right here, right now. It was only the fact that is was Jetfire who was transforming in front of her that held her fascination. She may have gotten over her celebrity crush on the famous jet, but he was still candy for the optics.

Holo-Suni gave a pair of thumbs up towards Holo-Jet. "Cute! But dont get too carried away, I'm already having trouble concentrating to wrangle these photons into behaving." Without further ado, the broken flier focused her attention through her avatar and back onto herself.

The false human walked over the berth carefully inspecting the cybertronian vessel of her spark. She looked over the carnage of her legs and somewhere inside her true self, a cold shiver pounded against her ardent optimism. Her inspection continued along the torso noting the lines of damage from Thundercracker's fusillade. The hole in one wing was noted and passed over. At last she inspected her own battered face, which instinctively - blindly - turned to follow the hologram. The matching grimaces were not hidden from the others.

Yeah the future that now laid out before her diverged significantly from what she had foreseen a few days earlier. With the lack of exhaustive medical resources at Omega Outpost, the challenge ahead would be uniquely difficult.

Sundance exvented a long sigh and let her avatar discorporate. Then slowly, carefully, let herself lay back down. She was actively trying not to think. It would be too easy to let the physical pain combine with the percolating mess of her emotions into some unbearable maelstrom. She didn't want that.

[Patch]

This soldier was lucky to be Alive.

Patch didn’t have the heart to explain at this time that recovery alone would take more resources than they had to give, disregarding reparations. Disregarding ambulation, disregarding transformation; flight? From the nerve damage alone, Sundance would be vastly lucky if she was ever able to do EITHER again.

Which was part of why it was almost painful to hear Sundance talk about recuperation like it would be some walk in the park. It was going to take an awful lot more than Patch imagined Suni understood. The young femme had seen a lot of people get hurt.

She’d also seen a lot of people never get better. And right now, where the young medic should have had sympathy, empathy, understanding, and a careful hand in how she broke the news…

Patch was losing patience…

She was hungry, and tired, and as the flier went on, the medic’s freckled features flattened. Her intake tightening slightly as her brows both knit together and lowered. She didn’t have the spark to do this right now, to argue about how bad the damage was- she’d already tried to tell the femme, and she wasn’t listening.

Not only that… She was writing her own treatment plan…

"I can check to see if Optimus will let me near it-”

“-Belay that.” A glance was cast in Jetfire’s direction. Tired, on the surface, was the best description. Optics dull, clearly not having any of this.

This was not the time for the patient to dictate how she was treated- not now, not Here, not under these conditions. Not on a military outpost lightyears from the nearest supply station, LEAST of all by utilizing machinery parts. Those she had no right to access no less.

It made sense that Suni would be considering options now, for recuperation.
What Patch couldn’t bring herself to drive home, was just how few options there were.

When the small human form popped into existence, Patch could only really look on in surprise… only for her assistant to then change form and a Second to be brought into the mix. Though she herself may have suggested something similar not long ago… Something about it today invoked the young medic’s distaste.


"Your thoughts, Patch?"

Her expression was hard. Jaw stiff, optics almost surprised, voice low as her brows settled heavy.

“I’m leaving this in your hands.”

This was not a question. There was no room for argument in her voice- and if Jetfire tried, it was clear the acting officer would cut him off. With this she stood, and faced the mech.

“Keep her here. Keep her still.”

With clunking pa-dunks of white and red peddes, the femme started indolently for the door.

“If the pain gets too much, go down the list of programs I gave you, then call me.”

Stopping to speak over her shoulder, she said,

“And Jetfire-... Don’t transform in the medical bay. Not unless you’re asked. Understand?”

[Jetfire]

"Understood."

His response had been swift and professional, the fluttering enthusiasm he'd previously displayed now muted through protocol. Jetfire maintained his composure despite his obvious oopsie, followed by Patch rightfully calling him out over it. A small part of him worried whether or not his display of alacrity in Sundance's treatment had vexed their RN. Whatever Jetfire was feeling, the flier kept it tightly under the wraps of his holoform's expression.

Jetfire watched through holographic eyes as Patch departed, leaving him alone with a patient.

Somewhere, somehow, he knew the Ratchet in his memories was having a good laugh at this; Jetfire, finally in a medical environment. His doctorate was only honorary of course, and the ex-seeker had always been more of an academic than a clinician.

Idly, the holoform glanced around the medical bay, sighing aloud softly. As enough was enough, the brief experiment ended, and "Jetfire" vanished. Despite having not wrecked or disturbed anything during his initial transformation, he was exceptionally circumspect as he shifted back to a biped. Once again, not a spanner out of place.

He approached his first and hopefully last patient, reacquainting himself with her injuries with optics instead of holograms. Truth be told, Jetfire felt embarrassed, and it echoed through his drawn out silence. He was master of the lab and the air, but the med bay was Patch and Ratchet's domain. It had been quite some time since he'd been schooled, too.

Those ice-blue optics drifted south to the empty space Suni's legs were meant to occupy. The rest of the damage, though extensive, could be repaired with time and patience. The problem, Jetfire foresaw, was the lack of leg replacements. The Autobots' current living arrangements, chiefly their sheer distance from Cybertron, meant that ordering the aforementioned replacements would be unfeasible.

Jetfire crouched down to examine the stumps of Sundance's legs more closely. "I believe I can fashion a set of crude prostheses for you, Suni. I don't believe myself to be capable of engineering a complete one-to-one replacement. Still... basic functionality shouldn't be an insurmountable difficulty..."

"How is your pain, by the way...?" He finally asked, as per Patch's instruction.