Soooo... this is one of those random ones I've been working on. I actually have the plot all planned out, but I honestly have no clue how long this one will be. Just an FYI, this is a side-story, meaning I don't work on it very often, so the updates probably won't be every week. I have, like, two more of these side-stories, so... maybe I'll finally load them. This is just one that I want to go ahead an get up before I lose the nerve... So... without further ado... Through a Cybercat's Optics...
A Really Bad Day
Her head was pounding, and her spark was working double time in her chest as she sprinted through the alleyways of lower-town Iacon. The light of one of Cybertron's moons reflected off her sky blue armor as she ran. The three mechs laughed and hooted behind her as they chased after her. Her frightened blue optics took in the walls blocking her escape, trying to find a break in them. Why couldn't she have programmed as a flyer? Then she wouldn't be the one running. Heck, her mech creator was going to offline her when he found out that went this way, anyways. He warned her about these mechs, but she had to take the shortcut. Opiluk hated when she got home late.
Her intakes hitched when she saw an opening in one of the walls. Maybe it would lead to a busy street! She forced her feet to pump faster. She could do this. When the new alley broke off, she skidded a little as she changed direction to the right. She was breathing heavily as she hurried down the alley. Doors lined the wall, but she was positive all of them were locked, and if they weren't, she wasn't stopping to check. Not with the other three catching up with her. She gave a gasp and stopped short. A dead end. No. This couldn't be happening.
"Hey, femme! Lookie who decided to stop running, mechs," a male voice called out. She whirled around with a frightened gasp. The three were now fanned out in front of her, and they were beginning to close in. The one in the middle with black armor and deep red optics was the one who had spoken.
"Leave me alone," she ordered. "The war is over."
"This war will never be over as long as there are Decepticons that refuse to bow down to the Prime," the one on the left with red armor claimed.
"Optimus Prime is a great leader and the reason this war had ended," she shot back, angered that these mechs would dare insult her leader.
"I hate repeating myself, Autobot," the same mech on the left spat.
"And I hate mechs that insult my noble leader's name!" she hissed.
"Optimus Prime is not the correct leader. Megatron is," the silver-armored mech on the right snapped.
"Long live Optimus Prime!" the femme roared. A loud battle cry rose from the three mechs, and the femme didn't have time to even compute moving before she was sent flying into a wall by a blast from a plasma cannon. She bounced off the wall and was immediately aware of an overwhelming pain in her side. A second later, all three mechs were kicking her as she curled up in a fetal position in a feeble attempt to defend herself. One didn't have to think too much to see that they were trying to break her spark chamber with brutal force. Whimpers and grunts of pain escaped her, but she refused to cry out.
"What is going on here!" an enraged voice yelled. A second later, one of the mechs attacking her was thrown to the side. The next moments were a blur to her. She could see that a winged mech was taking down the three Decepticons with trained ease. The next second, she could feel an arm wrap around her shoulder struts and another curl under her knee joints. She hissed in pain, but otherwise remained silent as she onlined her optics. She grimaced when she found that one of them was shattered.
"My designation is Prowl," the mech holding said suddenly. She jumped, startled. "Don't worry. I am… well, was an Autobot back when the war was still being fought."
"You were Optimus Prime's second. It is an honor to meet you," she murmured, feeling rather tired. The mech, Prowl, chuckled at her.
"It's nice to know that there are still bots out there that remember us. Now, what is your designation?"
"I'm Moonstrike, sir," she replied with a weak smile.
"Well, Moonstrike, it appears that that 'con's cannon did a lot of damage to the circuitry in your side. I have a friend that is a very good medic, and I am going to take you to him. I think he can help you," Prowl said gently, moving out of the dead end alleyway at a quick pace. Moonstrike moaned quietly as he ran. It hurt so much. Even her spark hurt. "Stay with me, femme. We're almost there."
Ratchet wasn't having a good orn. His patience had been spent early in the orn when two ex-'cons came in with minor injuries and insulted his old faction as he repaired them. Sure, Ratchet had overcharged them and sent them off with rather large dents in their helms, but still. His faction was the reason Cybertron had some semblance of peace. In time, as the Decepticons died off, that peace would grow. As it was, almost all of Cybertron had been rebuilt. It had only taken about nine vorns, too. Optimus Prime had formed a system that would spread the power over Cybertron between a few trustworthy mechs: himself, Ultra Magnus, Soundwave (who straightened out after Megatron was defeated. Again.), a peaceful Decepticon by the name of Thundercracker, and lastly, an aristocratic mech named Mirage. Though Prime had offered him a job as a politician, Ratchet had turned it down. He rather liked repairing his fellow Cybertronians. After all, he had done just that for millions of years. So, the former CMO set up a clinic in upper-town Iacon. It wasn't in the slums, but it wasn't in the overly rich area. The building itself was rather small. It had a front lobby with a single desk and a small waiting room. Off to the right of the lobby was an office that contained two desks: one for Ratchet and one for his apprentice, Jolt. One the opposite side of the lobby was the entrance to the bay. It had three berths, and the walls were completely lined with counters and cabinets.
We're getting off topic, though. We were speaking of why Ratchet's orn was bad… Ah. As if the two Decepticons were bad enough, Ironhide had shown up mid-orn because of his slaggin' hip joint problems. Luckily for him, Ratchet had finally come up with a permanent repair, but that didn't keep Ironhide from moaning and complaining about how long the repairs were taking. Finally, Ratchet got fed up with him and shut of his vocal processor. Ironhide's glare could have sent a weaker mech running. However, seeing as Ratchet had dealt with scarier mechs before the ex-Weapons Specialist, Ironhide's glare did absolutely nothing. Once the joor-long repair was finished, Ratchet put Ironhide on bed rest while his body created new programs to fit with the new repair.
That was when the bane of his existence came in.
"Heya, Hatchet!" Sideswipe chirped as he sauntered into the medbay, completely ignoring the receptionist as she hurried after him. "Oh, hey, Ironhide!"
"Sir, sir! Doctor Ratchet is with a patient! You can't go in there!" she cried.
"Nonsense! Me and ol' Hatchet go way back, right, Hatch?" the red mech stated as he looked back at the burnt orange femme. Ratchet gave him a blank look.
"I lay no claims to ever meeting you."
"Aw! Ratch, you wound me!" Sideswipe dropped dramatically to the floor.
"Why are you here?" Ratchet asked, staring down at the irritating mech. "And where's your brother?"
"Sunny? He's at a gallery. I was headed there when I found something for you." Ratchet noticed for the first time that one of Sideswipe's hands was hidden behind his body.
"Every time you say that, I get this sinking feeling and begin to feel like I'm about to be ambushed by Decepticons…" Ratchet said bluntly.
"I'd never attack you, Ratch! Actually, I'm here to give you this!" With a flourish, Sideswipe pulled his hand from behind his back and held his "gift" out for Ratchet. The medic scowled.
"You brought me a dead cybercat?" Ratchet hissed.
"It's dead?" Sideswipe asked, poking it with his free hand. The golden cat didn't move. "Huh. It was hissing and yowling when I first picked it up…" Ratchet gave an exasperated growl as he snatched the poor dead creature from the ex-frontliner's servos. The creature looked much like Ravage had. Just looking at it, one could tell that it had been a graceful creature. Armor protected its hindquarters and shoulders. The rest was covered by thin, yet strong golden metal plates. Its once silver optics were gray with death, and its long golden tail was limp against Ratchet's servo. A quick scan showed that the cybercat's weak spark had given out sometime during the trip with Sideswipe. Ratchet found it rather strange that the cat even had a spark chamber. So few of them did, and those were the ones that were made for domestication.
"Anything else?" Ratchet asked, looking back up at Sideswipe.
"Is it so hard to believe that I would want to visit you?" the younger mech replied, holding his hands over his spark as he stood.
"Huh. I guess I'll leave then! I know when I'm not appreciated! And to think I spent more time with you than any of the other Autobots. Well, except for Jolt."
"That was because you kept getting yourself slagged up!" Ratchet yelled.
'Yeah, but I still talked while you were repairing me…" Sideswipe pouted.
"And I regret every–" A loud ruckus in the lobby made Ratchet pause. He moved around to a free berth, setting the dead cybercat on a counter as he moved. The swinging door to the bay swung open, and the three mechs were shocked when Prowl rushed in the room with an unconscious femme in his arms. The mech paused for only a second as he looked around for the medic, then he moved to the free berth that Ratchet was hovering by.
"I found her in the back alleys. Three Decepticon mechs teamed up on her. One had a plasma cannon. Once she was down, they turned to kicking," Prowl explained shortly as he set her down on the berth.
::Jolt, I need help!:: Ratchet snapped through his comm. to his apprentice. Ratchet started scanning the femme as he waited. Jolt had been in their conjoined office doing the Cybertronian version of paperwork, which was on the other side of the lobby, so would take a minute for him to arrive.
"Sideswipe, Prowl, kindly stay out of the way," Ratchet ordered. The second Jolt stepped inside, Ratchet was speaking in hurried tones and moving around the bay, collecting different medical tools. "Jolt, we have a victim of an ex-Decepticon attack. Her secondary line has been hit, and her armor had multiple tears. Slag it, her spark chamber's cracked."
"It's because her armor so slaggin' thin," Jolt muttered, as he worked on her secondary energon line.
"That's the style. Femmes shouldn't have to wear bulky armor anymore. The war's over," Ratchet snapped. "We've got to move her spark before it gives out. Her chamber's beginning to cave in."
"Move it where?" Jolt shot back as he looked around. "I don't think she'd like us killing one of these three to give her a temporary body." Ratchet glanced around, his gaze lingering slightly on Sideswipe, before his optics landed on the dead creature on the counter.
"Sideswipe, bring me that cybercat," Ratchet ordered. "Then take Prowl, and go to the lobby. I can't have you two in here during a spark transfer."
"You're going to put her spark in a cybercat?" Jolt asked. Ratchet couldn't quite discern if the blue mech was incredulous or affronted. Still, he lifted the cat from Sideswipe's hands and scanned the animal for any injuries aside from the weak spark.
"The cybercat recently offlined, so its system should still function." Ratchet was exposing the dead cat's empty spark chamber as he explained. "This cat had a spark chamber, and since the basic protoform is similar to a Cybertronian's, it should support her spark. If we leave her spark in this form, she will offline. At least she has a chance if we transfer her spark. Now, are you going to help me?"
Jolt's response was to begin opening her chest cavity. Ratchet's careful servos reached into the cavity and gently began prying the spark chamber open. There was an audible click as the chamber unhitched. Jolt moved to Ratchet's side and lifted the cybercat in a way where the spark chamber was easily reached. Ratchet cautiously lifted the femme's spark from the chamber. The orb glowed blue as he moved it into the cat's chamber. The clicked the cat's spark chamber closed and vented softly.
"Now, we wait. Hand her here and keep working on her real body. Give her an artificial spark beat, so that her processor doesn't figure out she's dead." The second Ratchet's orders were out, Jolt was obeying.
"Uhhh… Ratchet, what's wrong with Ironhide?" Jolt asked. Ratchet glanced up from the cybercat in his hands to see his old-time friend staring slack-jawed at him. Ratchet moved over to him, and he used one hand to reactivate Ironhide's vocal processor as he cradled the cat in his other arm. She wasn't very large; just a little bigger than his hand.
"Did you…you just…she was…was that even legal?" Ironhide sputtered.
"Perfectly. It was either transfer the spark or let her die. Now, this body can hold her spark while the other is repaired. My trainer did it once with a retro rabbit," Ratchet said in a matter-a-fact tone. He gave Ironhide a disparaging look. "Do you think I would have done it with Prowl in the other room if it wasn't legal?" Ratchet moved to one of the counters, calling for Sideswipe and Prowl as he did. He used his free hand to bundle up some towels on the counter as the two walked back into the bay.
"That was fast," Prowl noted.
"A spark transfer has to be. It was a success, and now, we are simply waiting for her to wake up. Prowl, thank you for bringing her so quickly. Had you been a few breems later, she wouldn't have survived. Sideswipe…"
"I know, I know. 'Thanks for bringing the cybercat body', right? I know. You couldn't have done this without me."
"…Actually, I was going to inform you that strays are supposed to be taken to the shelter or in a case like this one, where they have a spark, to a pet shop for identification purposes. I'm sure Prowl can thoroughly explain the law and reasons behind it," Ratchet stated with a malicious smile. Sideswipe gave an involuntary yelp when Prowl's servo clamped down on his shoulder from behind.
"Let's take a walk, Sideswipe. It will be just like old times." Sideswipe groaned but followed the black and white mech. Ratchet simply smiled as he set the cybercat on the towels, trying to make the cat…femme comfortable. With a small smile at his success, Ratchet turned and strode over to where Jolt was working on the femme's body.
"Now, let's see if we can fix up this spark chamber."