The Start of Something Interesting...

[lastonepercent]

The day was calm, with no recent Decepticon attacks, and none suspected to be incoming for some time.  The cons were too busy licking their wounds from the last battle, one that the Autobots had decidedly come out ahead on.  The celebrations had gone on long into the night and the recreation room was already a mess.

Thus, it was the perfect chance for a lone Autobot to slip casually outside.

Mirage had no shift currently scheduled, so he was free to spend his time as he pleased.  He certainly made no move to hide his departure, greeting his comrades in the halls on the way out, but the box in his hands remained unopened despite any passing curiosity.  It was quietly shifted into subspace before long, and  the former noble shifted into alt mode just as smoothly when he reached the doors.  Despite the completely inappropriate earthen race car mode, the mech had little trouble self-adjusting before driving off into the forest covering the mountain, for business unknown...

Comments

[lastonepercent]

"I'm surprised you don't want to do it to them now," Mirage called back over his shoulder.

"I know I certainly do."

He almost laughed, but catching sight of Cliffjumper's scowl made his amusement die a little.

Stifling a sigh, Mirage strode through the medbay doors, lingering processor ache suddenly on the forefront of his mind again.

"Ratchet? Sorry I'm late - I'm sure you've noticed the 'complications' by now...?"

An irate looking Ratchet stuck his head out from behind a (smoking?!) curtain, soot staining his white plating up to his elbows.

"Obviously. Take a seat - you've been booted down the triage list."

Oh. It was the mech behind the curtain that was smoking, probably from getting fried in an electrical currant. Mirage winced and sat down obediently.

[cliffjumper]

Seeing that there was no reason to call to Ratchet before the mech that was being repaired had, well, been so, Cliffjumper followed after Mirage mostly out of reflex and then stopped a few steps away.

... Right. What not?

Shifting on his feet, Cliffjumper rubbed the back of his helm and then, finally, snorted.

Do something.

"Sure as slag do I wanna do that now, but if I give more people injuries that Ratchet might have to treat, I'd probably be next," he said it loudly enough to be heard, grinning lopsidedly.

It wasn't like Ratchet was violent with either patients or fellow Autobots in general, but his attitude and temperament led to teasing quite often.

[lastonepercent]

Mirage glanced down toward Cliffjumper after a moment, relieved to see that the minibot's mood seemed to have passed.

If they were going to end up waiting yet again, they might as well continue their tentative 'alliance'.

"True. We'd doubtlessly be kept waiting even longer if we interfered or added to the pile."

Mirage settled into his chair, resigning himself to the wait.

"...You suppose that is one of our outage-culprits there?"

[cliffjumper]

"They'd probably have mercy on you dependin' on how delibitatin' your issues are... I'd probably get my prohibition to use the targeting range extended," Cliffjumper huffed, crossing his arms over his chestplates.

He knew all of the medics on the Ark would do that too - it'd happened before and when he'd tried going to one of the others to get around it, they'd checked the notation on his file and simply refused.

Glancing over to the curtained-off area when Mirage spoke, Cliffjumper narrowed his optics and then shrugged.

"Wouldn't surprise me. Unless something happened while the power was out... or when it came back."

In which case, the scientists responsible would probably get even more of a talking to.

[lastonepercent]

"I doubt they would be as lenient as you fear," Mirage laughed, unsure how to take the comment. Did it sound like a claim of favoritism? He couldn't tell.

"Perhaps the attempts at repair were as damaging as the initial cause?"

Mirage glanced toward the curtain thoughtfully, pondering the still-smoldering frame not-entirely hidden behind it.

"Either way, it seems that the delay was - somewhat - justified, if that is the scale of the issue."

Sighing rather dramatically, the spy hunched down in his chair, preparing to dig down to wait for the long haul.

What a terrible day. Maybe he could flag down a junior-medic to deal with the pain quickly enough? He cast a glance around, searching for First Aid or Hoist.

[cliffjumper]

"They're fraggin' medics, if you're in pain or injured they're gonna help, even if you did something you shouldn't," Cliffjumper said with a snort and a wave of his hand, staring to pace.

He should just sit down, there was plenty of space and available seating, but walking eased some of the lingering... discontent (not anxiety) over having been stuck in the elevator.

Plus, sitting down beside Mirage, like this...

"I mean, otherwise Sideswipe would be in far slaggin' bigger trouble than he usually is... and I suppose so." Looking around and glancing at the curtained-off area again, Cliffjumper grimaced.

"Wonder what the frag they did."

[lastonepercent]

The lack of miraculous arrival of any another medics makes Mirage slump a little further into his chair. Ah well.

"Then they should do the same for you, as well," Mirage said with a wryly raised optic ridge, gaze flicking down to Cliffjumper's hand with it's not-so-hidden aches.

"Sideswipe's attempts usually end up raising morale, even if he puts himself in the medbay a disconcerting percentage of the time. I guess they can forgive him for a lot in that case."

He shrugs; that is one aspect of the ship's politics and discipline the former noble has little interest in.

[cliffjumper]

Waving said hand dismissively, Cliffjumper snorted.

"Sure, if it actually hurt. It ain't like I can't use it, and if something happened I sure as slag would and could, so..." With a shrug, Cliffjumper considered sitting down again, but then turned around as the doors to the medbay opened.

"I've just--- Oh! Mirage, Cliffjumper. I hope neither of you got injured in the outage?" First Aid paused only briefly before he came over, a squint to his visor and slightly dimmed colour more than amply conveying his concern.

With a roll of his optics, Cliffjumper shook his helm.

"Nah, we're fine. Got stuck in an elevator." Well, technically they were fine.

He assumed Mirage still had a processor ache and besides his hand, Cliffjumper certainly hadn't liked being stuck in the middle of the elevator shaft, far above the bottom level.

[lastonepercent]

"First Aid," Mirage greeted, before waving a hand imperiously toward Cliffjumper and his explanation.

"Aptly put. We were simply already planning on being here - I cannot speak for Cliffjumper, but I was here for my final check-up."

He tapped a finger on the side of his helm with a wry smile.

[cliffjumper]

"We can certainly do that, then. Had any issues since the last one? Aches? Tension?" First Aid moved in, visor brightening in a combination of concern and professional focus and plugged in while he glanced at Cliffjumper, "and you? I hope your hand haven't been giving you any problems."

Looking up from where he'd been leaning against an empty circuit slab, Cliffjumper grinned and shook his helm.

"Nah. Was rather gonna try and get that prohibition withdrawn. Think my hand's repaired enough."

"I'll have a look," First Aid said, politely enough. There was, however, a slight change in shade to his visor. All the medics on the Ark currently knew very well that Cliffjumper was among the mechs that'd try to get his permit into the targeting range back as soon as possible.

[lastonepercent]

"The same processor-ache as before, I'm afraid."

Mirage grumbled unhappily, facial plates pinching at the reminder of the pain.

"I would happily submit to the final purge now and get it over with, as soon as you can spare the time and berth."

[cliffjumper]

"I believe we have all the injuries from the power outage under control or treated..." there was a pause and First Aid flicking his glance towards the curtained-off area, but when Ratchet didn't gainsay him, he nodded, "so I should definitely be able to spare the time. Please get yourself situated, Mirage."

pulling the cable he'd had plugged in out, First Aid turned to Cliffjumper, held his hand out and let his scanner flicker over the hand when it was stretched out.

"... No, Cliffjumper. Another three days, and then you can have the permit back," First Aid said, unapologetically cheerful as Cliffjumper grimaced, huffed and opened his mouth.

"But---"

"Medical decision. And unless we have a category A emergency, you're low-priority for battle until those three days are up. You know using a hand for something like firing can mess up the fine workings and calibratrions, Cliffjumper, ending with you being able to aim worse."

Cliffjumper stared up, groaned and dipped his helm in a hesitant nod. He did know that.

"... Fine." With another grumble, the minibot left the medbay.

[lastonepercent]

Mirage sighed, unsurprised by the verdict. Cliffjumper was all too stubborn, and hiding his obviously still healing hand from a medic's eyes and scanner?

He expected nothing less.

But he certainly made no visible reaction to the fact, simply giving Cliffjumper a polite nod as he left.

"I don't know about you, but I will be taking the stairs on the way back," He said, even as he moved himself toward a berth for his treatment.

[cliffjumper]

Before he left, he did catch Mirage's nod, so he threw a hand in the air as a sort of goodbye gesture and then darted out. He hadn't really expected something like that even if it was just a normal polite gesture.

At Mirage's comment, First Aid chuckled as he brought out the needed tool - mostly to help him calibrate what issues might be left that was causing Mirage issues, more than that he couldn't do it with his medic programming.

"Understandable. Let's see about at least getting you to a state where the constant visual input won't have you in pain."