Beauty Within

Shattered Spark

Just as the Star was peaking over the horizon, Droct veered off the main road and went careening down a side road. It was barely distinguishable as a road, for the years of disuse had allowed the rains to form deep ruts as they had eroded it away. Curling like a snake around the sharp drops and rises of the mountain crags, the roadway seemed more like a coaster ride from hell – than a place the four of them should be driving.

Finally, the metal cap of a closed mine came into view. The four of them stopped in front of it. Z’ren and S’taq transformed and worked together to try and budge the heavy metal plate. The mechs could only sit there and wait, for they were too loaded down to transform and help. With hydraulics straining and squealing in protest, the femmes got the plate to move far enough to the side, for the two mechs to drive through.

Darting inside, the femmes barely got out of sight as the rumble of a Seeker patrol filled the mountain air. Not even daring to try and slide the metal plate back in place, the two femmes stood silently on either side of it. They trembled in fear that the Seekers would land and find them. Bee and Droct shut off their engines, silently praying to Primus that they wouldn’t be found.

The rumble escalated to a roar over them, the Seekers obviously flying at less than ten thousand feet; as they searched for the mechs who had the audacity to steal their ‘decoration’. The very ground shook around the hiding mechs, their anxiety filled the abandoned mineshaft. The only sound besides the Seeker engines, was the fluctuating coolant fans trying desperately to keep the four nervous mechs within operating temperatures.

Finally, the rumble disappeared in the distance. The four mechs let out an audible rush of air as they relaxed.

“Well, let’s get this back in place,” Z’ren stated. She turned and pulled down on the plate with all of her might.

S’taq helped her, and with both femmes straining, the last rays of the star were cut off as the metal plate slid back into position.

Clicking on their infrared sensors, the four mechs were not bothered in the least by the pitch black of the old mine shaft. In fact, the press of the tons of rock above them, gave them a sense of security. For most of the cons were far too large to get under here. And since the shaft had been abandoned for so long, most mechs wouldn’t even remember it was here.

Transforming, the two femmes followed the mechs as Droct led them down deeper into the mountain. The cool, moist air filled their intakes with its sweetness; as it removed the stench of the landfill gas from their engines.

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“How’s he look?” S’taq asked. She gently unwrapped the tarp from the unconscious Autobot. Laying the tarp carefully over the side of the rock slab on which they’d laid the mech on top of. Her optics scanned his half-naked chassis, noting the extensive damage and torture he’d endured.

Droct ran his hands over the mech, checking his vitals with a practiced optic. Then he moved up to the mech’s head, cocking it back and forcing Cliffjumper’s mouth open. Putting a finger far inside his mouth, he felt the mech’s neck as he did it. “We’re going to have to tube him, he has no swallow reflex right now,” he stated. Removing his hands, he went to sort through the supplies they’d brought.

Bee ran his hands gently over Cliffjumper’s bare abdomen, amazed that the mech was even functioning with this amount of damage. The knot inside him tightened its grip, because he knew he had to find a way to tell Droct that he had lied to him. If he waited until Cliffjumper regained consciousness, then the red mech would end up telling his secret. Looking over at his bond mate shuffling through the pile of supplies, Bee knew that he had only agreed to help Cliffjumper because Bee had begged him too. The pain from all the hell Droct had lived through because of the Autobots was still very real to him. What would he think when he found out he’d been sharing his spark with an Autobot for the last few years? Would he forgive Bee?

Bee rubbed Cliffjumper’s bare circuits as he thought. He didn’t know what to say to Droct. How to put it, so that the mech would understand? Perhaps he should wait until T’ran got here? If they had a feeding tube down Cliffjumper’s throat, it’d interfere with his vocalizers if he were to wake up. Maybe Bee could whisper the situation to him? Get Cliffjumper to agree not to spill the beans until Bee could talk with T’ran.

The yellow mech relaxed a little. Yes, he’d just make sure that Cliffjumper couldn’t talk until T’ran and him figured out how to tell Droct about what Bee really was.

“Ok, found the right size. Now Bee, tilt his head back so we’ve got a straight line down,” Droct ordered. Walking up with the hose, he waited as Bee tilted the mech’s head back. He tried to keep his optics off those damned insignias on the mech’s armor fragments. Tried to ignore the fact that he was actually helping one of them! His fingers trembled as he fought to control his emotions. Looking into Bee’s optics, he concentrated on the fact that this mech had saved Bee once – so he was just returning the favor.

Putting the end of the hose into the mech’s mouth, he slowly guided it down the throat and into his primary core. Satisfied that it was in position, he took some duct tape and secured the feeding tube to the side of the mech’s helm. Making sure that it wouldn’t shift in the least little bit. Nodding to Bee, he let the mech put his head back into a more ‘normal’ position. “S’taq, if you’ll get that funnel and slowly pour about a quarter cube down him,” he quietly ordered the femme.

S’taq grabbed a cube and the funnel and began to tube feed the unconscious mech. While Droct moved to his abdomen and began a more thorough exam. And he didn’t like what he was seeing.

“Z’ren, Bee get on either side of him, grab a leg, bend it and hold it to his chest,” he ordered in his soft voice.

Z’ren and Bee looked at each other and shrugged, they had no idea why Droct needed the mech in such an awkward position. But he was the medic, so they didn’t argue. Moving to opposite sides of Cliffjumper, they grabbed his legs and folded him into the strange position.

Clicking his headlights on, Droct stood between the mech’s folded legs. Bending over he focused the light up into the mech’s abdominal interior from his aft section. His core plummeting as he saw the sheer amount or torn and melted sensory circuits within the mech. Pushing aside some of the melted wires from his primary nets, Droct carefully worked his hands up to his elbows inside Cliffjumper’s abdomen. Droct accessed the circuitry near his battle processor. Tapping a code, he frowned as he got back the message. Pulling his hands slowly back out of the mech’s abdomen, he nodded to his two assistants to put the mech’s legs back down.

Without a word, he moved over to Cliffjumper’s head, and began to remove the side of the helm that didn’t have the feeding hose duct taped to it. Kneeling down, he again focused his lights. This time on the mech’s Meta Processor. Tapping a code, his frown deepened as he read the resulting message. Putting the mech’s helm back in place, he slowly pulled the tarp back over his chassis.

“So what’s up Droct? Can he be fixed?” Bee asked. He hadn’t liked the frown he could sense on Droct’s face. The fear in his core began to pulse through his systems.

Droct sat down heavily on a rock shelf near Cliffjumper. The expression in his optics told Bee that his friend was in really bad shape. “We can fix his chassis and sensory nets fairly easily, and structurally he appears sound,” Droct said.

“But then what’s making you frown so much?” the yellow mech asked. His lower lip trembled with anxiety for his friend.

Sighing, Droct looked at him gravely. “I’m sorry Bee. He’s been gangbanged real badly. And when they destroyed his firewall, they fragmented his base programming. He can’t reactivate fully without crashing again, because his programs are so glitched. Even his defragmentation programs are affected, so he can’t repair his own programming. This repair is beyond me – I’m sorry.” His core felt heavy as he saw the downcast look on his bonded’s face. This Autobot must’ve meant a lot to Bee.

“So is there anything we can do to help him? Anything?” Bee’s voice had a pleading edge to it.

Droct nodded. “We keep his base systems running and start repairing what we can. Maybe T’ran can help his programming issues.” He nodded at Z’ren. “Tell T’ran what’s wrong, and hurry!”

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