Difference between revisions of "2018-12-16 Onward"

From Transformers: Lost and Found

(Created page with "{{Log |logtitle=Onward |logdate=2018/12/16 |location=Lost Light - Command: Rodimus's Office |participants=Ratchet, Rodimus, |summary=Ratchet is so done with this. |log=As a ce...")
(No difference)

Latest revision as of 02:44, 17 December 2018

Date 2018/12/16
Location Lost Light - Command: Rodimus's Office
Participants Ratchet, Rodimus
Summary Ratchet is so done with this.

As a certain short guy once said, Ratchet has been putting this off for far too long. He'd meant to come last week, when the most critical wounded were stabilized, but there was a small energy riot and for a minute things looked dicey. So he held off. He meant to come by yesterday, but, wouldn't you know it, time got away from him. But now he's here. Outside of Rodimus's door. Working his fingers. Checking his datapad. Maybe he'll be needed. There are no messages. There are no wounded coming in. Just the normal aches and pains, the slow return to normal maintenance. Upon seeing that, Ratchet nods to him. It's time. He presses the call button to let Rodimus know that he has arrived.

The door opens when Ratchet rings to reveal Rodimus seated not at his desk, but rather at the couch in the seating area whose idea and layout were absolutely stolen from Windblade. Why waste a good idea? He has his feet on the table, which is probably not Windblade approved, and the faint, tiny voice of an AI reading out his messages -- and transcribing his replies -- pauses as the doors open. Rodimus does not put his feet down, but he still waves a broad welcome: "Hey, come on over. What's up? Please tell me no weird and creepy plagues."

"Captain." Ratchet nods towards Rodimus, his greeting on the stiff side. He enters at the invitation but, upon approaching where Rodimus is sitting, is momentarily perplexed as to where to sit. He can't do what he's about to do sitting next to Rodimus. It's not right. So he reaches for one of the chairs in front of Rodimus's desk and pulls it over so that he sits across the table. This is proper. "No, no...very...quiet." Ratchet replies. "A few mechs still recuperating from the fight, but, stable, with a clear course of treatment. A few other aches and pains here and there, our peacekeepers catching a stray round or two on Cybertron, but...nothing my team can't handle." Ratchet nods at that. He gives Rodimus a once over. "And how've you been? Since the fight with Megatron."

Rodimus makes a face. "I can't believe I missed the best part of that." He rolls his shoulders, spoiler flexing and wiggling in an idle test. He holds himself much less gingerly than he did in those first days. "I'm good. Just the usual, you know, okay what now. Because seriously, what now?" He drops his feet, sitting up and sitting forward with an easy smile.

Ratchet cracks a grin in obvious, if not overwhelming, amusement when Rodimus asks the question. "What, I can't just come by? You know if there's an emergency I usually bring people down to my office, because I tend to be stuck down there." Ratchet chuckles lightly. "Well, I mean, that is the question, isn't it. What now. For you, me, the whole ship. Yeah." He nods. "That's what's I'm here about. The what now."

"Oh." Rodimus, having already dropped his feet and sat forward, now sets the datapad he was using to the side. He rests his arms on his knees, threading past the guards with the ease of idle habit, and clasps his hands as he gives Ratchet his Full Attention. "You should like someone who has more than the tiniest sliver of a terrifying bewilderment on that."

Ratchet has Rodimus's attention and he won't waste it, so he comes out with it. "I'm resigning as the Chief Medical Officer of the Lost Light. Hopefully effective at the end of the stellar cycle, barring anything too unfortunate." Ratchet seems to exhale, having said the words at last. "Like I said when you were burning's time. I have my message to Autobot High Command ready to go, I'm resigning that position too. I think I've had enough, for now, and with peace finally seeming like it might be a use in lingering around."

"Oh." Rodimus twitches, caught between the impulse to sit back and absorb what he was just told, and the need to look unruffled, calm, and totally in control of things. And not panicked by the idea of losing Ratchet as CMO. "Yeah. I guess -- yeah. I'm not. Totally. Surprised by this," he says like someone who still managed to get caught by surprise. "Frag, Ratchet, I'll be sorry to see you go -- but it's weird, I'm so indescribably glad that things have finally reached a point where you think you can. Megatron's dead, Cybertron's -- peacefulish. Close as we've had in millions of years, anyway. And for once? Getting better. It'll be better for having you there, too."

Ratchet watches Rodimus's reaction and tries not to express too much of the amusement he's feeling, though his grin lingers. He doesn't seem to regard what he's said as too grave, even if it took effort to do it. "Well that's the idea." Ratchet replies. "And you've got lots of capable doctors here. I'm going to recommend First Aid to take my place for the Autobots, I don't know if that means you'll be able to have him posted's all up in the air, I guess." He shrugs and sits back in the chair. "Anyway that's what I'm doing." Ratchet says while he folds his hands in his lap. "What about you?"

"First Aid is more than ready to take your place. He's even got the attitude down. You should've seen the slag he was giving me!" Rodimus sounds somewhere between annoyed and impressed: lil First Aid growing up!!!

When Ratchet turns the question, Rodimus drags his finger down the line of his nose and sits back, loose-limbed and unstrung. He rolls his head back and sighs. "Okay, I know this is gonna shock you, but I didn't exactly plan for this, and I don't really know. I guess -- right now -- I'm seeing what shakes out. You know? Take things as they come. See what the rest of the crew does." He rests his hand over his chest, drumming two fingers on the blank point of flame where his badge once rested. "I feel like the Matrix belongs on Cybertron, but I've never really stayed in one place long enough to get rust on my feet."

Ratchet shrugs his shoulders. "You don't have to bear it, Rodimus." He says and folds his arms over his chest. "You really don't. How long was it without a bearer, before Optimus picked it up?" Ratchet shifts his weight and leans forwad, so that he's closer to Rodimus's level. "It's called the Matrix of Leadership, not just the Matrix. Do I believe that the Matrix bearer is destined for anything? Of course not. I don't deny it came to Optimus, and to you, for a reason...but that's the thing with these inscrutable god things. You never know what the purpose is, and when you've worn it out. We never get to seen the plan." Ratchet grins again. "Which is why faith is for suckers. I what you want to do. But if you keep it, there might be expectations. The word Prime might get tossed around. Not that I don't think you've earned it. But I know how you feel about it."

Rodimus's shoulders hunch, prickle, and he slouches lower in his seat. "I -- hadn't really thought about that. As an idea. Just ... giving it up. " He rubs his hands over his face and then tilts his head to the side, elbow on knee, chin on hand. The points of his helm angle to the side, and then tip back upright. "I thought about giving it to Chimera to care for and watch over, but I don't think she's sticking around, either. She gets this look in her eyes. Maybe it belongs not just on Cybertron, but with Cybertron."

Ratchet spreads his hands. "Who can say? This is way outside anything I pretend to know about. Maybe it belongs with you, maybe with Optimus, maybe shot into a star..." Ratchet looks up. "...I'm not serious about that last one, just making a point. If Cybertron wants it back Cybertron will take it back. We can't tell the planet what to do. I think we can just look after ourselves and our own people." He pauses. "Not sure I'd take Soundwave's counsel on that, though. I think he's biased. I think he has his own view of things, a lot of mechs do. But I think only you can make this decision. I knew Optimus a long time. I know you think he kept too much to himself and wasn't as open as he could've been, but...on core things like this, you have to know yourself and act."

"I wish I could talk to him," Rodimus says. Somewhere between wistful and worried, he sobers as he says, "We're gonna go looking for him. Last thing anyone heard, he headed to Quint space. You wanna come with? One last adventure before you plant your feet? They gotta get things ready for you down there, anyway. You know Cybertron's not ready for you yet. Not sure they'll ever be," he adds, not enough under his breath.

Ratchet smirks at that last, then sits back again. He folds his arms and looks up at the ceiling. "I thought he'd come back, when Megatron did what Megatron always does. I still hold that against him, even if maybe it was the right idea to stay away this time. If he even knew...he wasn't right, the last time I talked to him." Ratchet taps his foot. Tink tink tink. "Keep me informed." He says while looking back at Rodimus's face. "When the time comes to help out I'll know...but I also know I gotta do this, and I gotta do it now, before I find some way to convince myself to stay. It's time."

Rodimus spreads his hands in a wide gesture and then rises, reaching across the table to offer Ratchet his hand. "In that case, thanks. Thanks for flying with me. Thanks for patching up my crew. You know if you need something -- if you need anything -- all you ever have to do is ask. I'm really looking forward to what you do with your future, Ratchet. Like -- in a not weirdly patronizing way."

Ratchet rises when Rodimus does. He takes the offered hand and offers a firm, but friendly handshake. A real blue collar embrace. "It's been a pleasure and an honor, captain." He replies. "I imagine I'll be calling in a lot of favors...helpful when no one is really in charge. I gotta take the temperature of things." He drops Rodimus's hand. "So, I'm sure I'll be back. And you'll be welcome to come down planetside, once we get things up and running. I've still got a few friends out there who I'm going to invite over." Ratchet steps back, around, the chair he appropriated, which is soon put back to rights. He turns to the door, then pauses. "I know you don't need this. Not sure you even want it, but...I figure once in your life, for everything you've done here, you deserve to have someone say this to you with sincerity." Ratchet squares up to Rodimus, even though he's by the door. "Best of luck wherever your journeys take you, Rodimus Prime." Then he turns to go.

blog comments powered by Disqus