Conceptions - 4.B
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1, 2, 2.b, 3, 4, 4.b, 5, 6, 7, 7.b
Ratchet's Intermission
"(Bumblebee's got himself into some trouble.)"
Ratchet vented hot air hard enough for it to register on their weapon's specialist's finely tuned armor. "If you're going to talk about bots behind their back, you could at least do it out loud and admit it," he snapped, probably unfairly. The sudden wary gauging look Ironhide shot him certainly did make him regret it, at least a little. It would take a lot to hurt Ironhide, even if his personality matrix was not quite as tough as his name would imply, but it didn't take much to trigger his TA programs, either.
Apparently judging Ratchet fairly low on the threat scale, Ironhide cycled air right back at him before moving away -- for what good blowing air did: Ratchet only heard it, as the only thing on him as sensitive as Ironhide's armor in non combat situations was his hands. "Fine, I'm worried about the little squeaky wheel, happy?" he grumbled.
"No," Ratchet returned sourly, accessing his Bumblebee files to attempt to deduce what Ironhide could possibly be worried about. For him to bring it up now, it had to be fairly recent, but not so much as it could prove to be much of a problem. As a matter of fact, the most logical files to search would be the ones of his reports and the subsequent footage.
After a moment, he realized exactly what it was that had Ironhide disgruntled. And to be honest, it had Ratchet worried, too, but he didn't see what they could do about it except for not to make a scene. Confronting Bumblebee about it certainly wouldn't help. "(Leave him alone, Ironhide,)" he advised. "(He's old enough to know the consequences of his actions.)"
"Whose talking about mechs behind their back over radio now?" Ironhide demanded.
With a deft move, Ratchet finished soldering the last broken and twisted metal separating Jazz's bottom half from his upper. For a moment, he ignored the weapons specialist lurking in his door, examining his work closely. A little too familiar with Megatron's wretched move from Cybertron itself, Ratchet had taught himself how to create key weakness in the framework of the soldiers under his welder. It was specifically designed to give only under such stress, with the spark chamber firmly attached to the upper side. An uncomfortable bit of hardware work, but a life saver, as Jazz displayed.
No more rent spark chambers. Jazz was alive, but in a condition much like the human coma. His spark couldn't be coaxed to leave the innermost part of the chamber that protected it, and therefore could not power or wake him. He would have to wake up on his own, which could take many vorns.
Setting the welder aside, Ratchet flipped his left hand back to make way for the tiny nimble arm that was best for careful work on small wires. "If you try to confront Bumblebee about this, you'll only drive him further away."
"But of all things, to trust a human --"
"Optimus Prime also trusted this human," Ratchet said severely, looking away from his work and pointing with his free hand. Repairing any one of this small group was something he could multi-task any day.
"Yeah, well, you know my opinion on that," Ironhide grumbled, shifting his weight and half-spinning his cannons. A nervous habit at best.
Ratchet didn't really want to get into that. He was being very careful not to have an opinion on anything other than his job. Truth be told, he didn't even choose a side in this stupid war. He'd been Optimus Prime's personal physician and just didn't leave his patient. Before he knew it, he was fixing up soldiers left and right, and beating them over the helmet for not having more self-preservation ... and because he was a little frustrated and confused at having ended up in such a position, anyway. The fact remained, however, that Prime had some pretty sound programing, and after that was history.
" ... be serious with a little squishie," Ironhide added, more to himself than anything.
If anything, Ironhide had a bug, Ratchet reflected. Then again, abusing his patients? Maybe his own programing wasn't so sound. Considering what some of them had allowed for, however ... just to win the war ... so of course they all looked out after Bumblebee. He was the most unaltered of them all, the closest to being a natural Cybertronian. The youngest, one of the most recently activated mechs, even if he had been built back before the war. Most of the Cybertronians they were finding were, though. Before the war had left the planet and moved out among the stars. "This Sam human," he said thoughtfully. "I don't think he's bad for Bumblebee. At least there's someone that he's not acting the fool for."
Ironhide's engine took on a even more disgruntled tune, and he crossed his arms -- something that was physically uncomfortable for mechs and therefore a very telling move.
Having had enough of his attitude, Ratchet said, "You weren't like this before the twins."
The pitch jumped a few registers into an angry whine. "You would be, too, if you'd been in my place!"
"Please," Ratchet scoffed, borrowing the human habit. Prime had instructed to do so, after all. "As if I didn't do my fair share of scolding and beating as it was."
"I couldn't just leave them --"
"No," he said soberly, "you couldn't. Three vorns, though, Ironhide --"
"They wouldn't know how to take orders if they were wired to," the large black mech protested.
"Imprinting only does so much," Ratchet scolded. "I swear, I wouldn't be surprised if they were a pair of anomalies ... not much is known about twins, you know. Maybe all twins are resistant to the imprinting process ..."
Ironhide mutter-grumbled something, far too garbled to be understandable to Ratchet, even if it wasn't a mix of English and their own language.
"What was that?"
Gears strained and Ironhide vented air, making a very good show of saying possibly the last thing in the galaxy that he wanted to. " ... maybe not 'pletely resistant ..."
It took Ratchet about five astroseconds to understand what Ironhide must mean by that. "I knew there was something familiar about their dent patterns -- Ironhide, you fraggin' glitch, I outta saw off your cannons and weld them to your aft -- backwards!"
Unfortunately, Ironhide's TA programs resorted Ratchet into the same level as 'Megatron' used to occupy alone, and he beat a hasty, very strategic retreat while the chartreuse mech was still tangled wrist deep in Jazz's wires.
--- - ---
- In other words: EVERYTHING THE TWINS LEARNED ABOUT FIGHTING, THEY LEARNED FROM IRONHIDE! 8D (srsly. Considering Ironhide's moves during Mission City ... yus.)
- This was written to fulfill two purposes. To introduce Jazz's aliveness and the reasons thereof (after all, the 'couldn't save him' could refer to the coma. Mechs could possibly coma for a ridiculous number of vorns, so even if he's alive, he's out of commission for a long while), and to introduce the idea that Bumblebee isn't some innocent wide-eyed little lamb just naively befriending Sam. The movie portrays them as war-hardened soldiers, and Bee is really really old (compared to us humans). He's a bit of a clown, refusing to take much of anything seriously, so when he takes Sam seriously, that worries his comrades. He's gotten very attached to something that doesn't even live a vorn, hardly.
- Unfamiliar concepts and terminology get explained in later chapters when Sam is a 'bot and has to learn all of this stuff. I'm not explaining it now because otherwise hearing it again later will be boring. As a matter of fact, the BOTPOV chapters should confuse you a little and leave you grasping for definitions. Otherwise, I might as well write a human!AU, amirite?
1, 2, 2.b, 3, 4, 4.b, 5, 6, 7, 7.b
Ratchet's Intermission
"(Bumblebee's got himself into some trouble.)"
Ratchet vented hot air hard enough for it to register on their weapon's specialist's finely tuned armor. "If you're going to talk about bots behind their back, you could at least do it out loud and admit it," he snapped, probably unfairly. The sudden wary gauging look Ironhide shot him certainly did make him regret it, at least a little. It would take a lot to hurt Ironhide, even if his personality matrix was not quite as tough as his name would imply, but it didn't take much to trigger his TA programs, either.
Apparently judging Ratchet fairly low on the threat scale, Ironhide cycled air right back at him before moving away -- for what good blowing air did: Ratchet only heard it, as the only thing on him as sensitive as Ironhide's armor in non combat situations was his hands. "Fine, I'm worried about the little squeaky wheel, happy?" he grumbled.
"No," Ratchet returned sourly, accessing his Bumblebee files to attempt to deduce what Ironhide could possibly be worried about. For him to bring it up now, it had to be fairly recent, but not so much as it could prove to be much of a problem. As a matter of fact, the most logical files to search would be the ones of his reports and the subsequent footage.
After a moment, he realized exactly what it was that had Ironhide disgruntled. And to be honest, it had Ratchet worried, too, but he didn't see what they could do about it except for not to make a scene. Confronting Bumblebee about it certainly wouldn't help. "(Leave him alone, Ironhide,)" he advised. "(He's old enough to know the consequences of his actions.)"
"Whose talking about mechs behind their back over radio now?" Ironhide demanded.
With a deft move, Ratchet finished soldering the last broken and twisted metal separating Jazz's bottom half from his upper. For a moment, he ignored the weapons specialist lurking in his door, examining his work closely. A little too familiar with Megatron's wretched move from Cybertron itself, Ratchet had taught himself how to create key weakness in the framework of the soldiers under his welder. It was specifically designed to give only under such stress, with the spark chamber firmly attached to the upper side. An uncomfortable bit of hardware work, but a life saver, as Jazz displayed.
No more rent spark chambers. Jazz was alive, but in a condition much like the human coma. His spark couldn't be coaxed to leave the innermost part of the chamber that protected it, and therefore could not power or wake him. He would have to wake up on his own, which could take many vorns.
Setting the welder aside, Ratchet flipped his left hand back to make way for the tiny nimble arm that was best for careful work on small wires. "If you try to confront Bumblebee about this, you'll only drive him further away."
"But of all things, to trust a human --"
"Optimus Prime also trusted this human," Ratchet said severely, looking away from his work and pointing with his free hand. Repairing any one of this small group was something he could multi-task any day.
"Yeah, well, you know my opinion on that," Ironhide grumbled, shifting his weight and half-spinning his cannons. A nervous habit at best.
Ratchet didn't really want to get into that. He was being very careful not to have an opinion on anything other than his job. Truth be told, he didn't even choose a side in this stupid war. He'd been Optimus Prime's personal physician and just didn't leave his patient. Before he knew it, he was fixing up soldiers left and right, and beating them over the helmet for not having more self-preservation ... and because he was a little frustrated and confused at having ended up in such a position, anyway. The fact remained, however, that Prime had some pretty sound programing, and after that was history.
" ... be serious with a little squishie," Ironhide added, more to himself than anything.
If anything, Ironhide had a bug, Ratchet reflected. Then again, abusing his patients? Maybe his own programing wasn't so sound. Considering what some of them had allowed for, however ... just to win the war ... so of course they all looked out after Bumblebee. He was the most unaltered of them all, the closest to being a natural Cybertronian. The youngest, one of the most recently activated mechs, even if he had been built back before the war. Most of the Cybertronians they were finding were, though. Before the war had left the planet and moved out among the stars. "This Sam human," he said thoughtfully. "I don't think he's bad for Bumblebee. At least there's someone that he's not acting the fool for."
Ironhide's engine took on a even more disgruntled tune, and he crossed his arms -- something that was physically uncomfortable for mechs and therefore a very telling move.
Having had enough of his attitude, Ratchet said, "You weren't like this before the twins."
The pitch jumped a few registers into an angry whine. "You would be, too, if you'd been in my place!"
"Please," Ratchet scoffed, borrowing the human habit. Prime had instructed to do so, after all. "As if I didn't do my fair share of scolding and beating as it was."
"I couldn't just leave them --"
"No," he said soberly, "you couldn't. Three vorns, though, Ironhide --"
"They wouldn't know how to take orders if they were wired to," the large black mech protested.
"Imprinting only does so much," Ratchet scolded. "I swear, I wouldn't be surprised if they were a pair of anomalies ... not much is known about twins, you know. Maybe all twins are resistant to the imprinting process ..."
Ironhide mutter-grumbled something, far too garbled to be understandable to Ratchet, even if it wasn't a mix of English and their own language.
"What was that?"
Gears strained and Ironhide vented air, making a very good show of saying possibly the last thing in the galaxy that he wanted to. " ... maybe not 'pletely resistant ..."
It took Ratchet about five astroseconds to understand what Ironhide must mean by that. "I knew there was something familiar about their dent patterns -- Ironhide, you fraggin' glitch, I outta saw off your cannons and weld them to your aft -- backwards!"
Unfortunately, Ironhide's TA programs resorted Ratchet into the same level as 'Megatron' used to occupy alone, and he beat a hasty, very strategic retreat while the chartreuse mech was still tangled wrist deep in Jazz's wires.
--- - ---
- In other words: EVERYTHING THE TWINS LEARNED ABOUT FIGHTING, THEY LEARNED FROM IRONHIDE! 8D (srsly. Considering Ironhide's moves during Mission City ... yus.)
- This was written to fulfill two purposes. To introduce Jazz's aliveness and the reasons thereof (after all, the 'couldn't save him' could refer to the coma. Mechs could possibly coma for a ridiculous number of vorns, so even if he's alive, he's out of commission for a long while), and to introduce the idea that Bumblebee isn't some innocent wide-eyed little lamb just naively befriending Sam. The movie portrays them as war-hardened soldiers, and Bee is really really old (compared to us humans). He's a bit of a clown, refusing to take much of anything seriously, so when he takes Sam seriously, that worries his comrades. He's gotten very attached to something that doesn't even live a vorn, hardly.
- Unfamiliar concepts and terminology get explained in later chapters when Sam is a 'bot and has to learn all of this stuff. I'm not explaining it now because otherwise hearing it again later will be boring. As a matter of fact, the BOTPOV chapters should confuse you a little and leave you grasping for definitions. Otherwise, I might as well write a human!AU, amirite?