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Medical Bay

Bluestreak stayed quiet long enough to hear Sideswipe’s response to the insinuation that the red twin and his brother could’ve been the ones responsible for Howlstrike’s beheading. It likely wasn’t true, of course, but it was one way to deflect attention away from the gunner, himself, even though he had nothing to do with it. Innocent mechs had been wrongly accused in the past for things that were actually done by another individual and their reputations never fully recovered even after the truth was revealed. Of course, in some cases, the truth was never revealed, leaving said innocent ‘Bots trapped in the Garrus-9 penitentiary with vicious Decepticon war criminals. And while the black and silver mech was unmoved one way or the other by the hunter's current state, that didn’t mean he agreed with what had happened nor did he want to deal with the ramifications of being falsely accused.

However, before Bluestreak could once again defend himself, Hoist had interrupted the proceedings and demanded that everyone leave the medical facility at once if they no longer required repair work. Thankfully, the medicine that the green mechanic had given the gunner a short while ago was already working. Otherwise, the shouting would’ve exasperated the cranial ache beyond what it had been when Blue first woke up from his stasis nap. “No problem, Hoist. I was just leaving.”

Corridor outside Medical Bay

Unfortunately, Bluestreak wasn’t leaving the med bay alone as Sideswipe insisted on accompanying him so that they could discuss all things regarding the headless Howlstrike. Stepping into the corridor, the gunner glanced over at the increasingly annoying red twin. If the crimson warrior wanted him to let it all out then that’s exactly what he was going to do. Sunstreaker, while not really showing much interest in the discussion thus far, would be mere collateral damage in the babbling that would soon commence.

“As I’ve said before, Sideswipe, I had nothing to do with Howlstrike’s beheading. I don’t slice things, I blast them,” Bluestreak said, preparing his vocals for the barrage ahead. “Now, if he’d had a hole blown through his aft, then me being the culprit would make more sense, but since that’s not the case it’s clearly not me. I also don’t think you and your brother did it. I was just joking, giving you a taste of your own medicine. Like you said, Howl would be dead for good right now and not still functioning. I agree that someone did this who didn’t care about the body being found, intentional or not, but I can assure you it was not me. Granted, I’ve never been as drunk as I was just recently, but for it to be me I’d have to somehow make it from my bunk over on the Ark-22 and get over here to the Guardian where the crime took place. Then, I’d have to make it all the way back to my quarters again. I would've passed out in a corridor at some point. There’s no way in the Pit I could've gotten back and forth with how overfilled my tanks were. Besides, I’m no where near strong enough to successfully attack Howlstrike, even if I got the drop on him. He’s much bigger and more powerful than me. I could never beat him, especially not in a drunken state. Come to think of it, I can’t really imagine anyone doing that to him without Howl putting up some kind of a fight. This must’ve been the work of someone very strong or multiple mechs with that kind of strength, which counts me out entirely.”

Bluestreak paused for a brief moment to let everything he had just said to sink in. He could tell that Sideswipe was already becoming agitated by his ramblings, but it’s what the red twin wanted so now he’d have to live with it. “And another thing, Siders, it’s not very smart to accuse someone of such an act of violence without proper evidence. I know you’re probably only joking around with me, but someone like Red Alert could overhear you and take what you said seriously. I could be tried and convicted of something I didn’t even do and sent off to Garrus-9 to spend the rest of my life locked up in a tiny little cell with the very scum that I despise, all the while the real culprit is still here. Did it ever occur to you that the same mech that decapitated Warpath, another big and powerful warrior, was likely responsible for Howlstrike’s situation, as well? Think about it before falsely accusing me again please. I’m the one that’ll end up paying the price unjustly, not you.”

Corridor outside Medical Bay

To say Sideswipe was just a wee bit ticked off about being ejected from the med bay was an understatement. Weren’t they all on the same side? Shouldn’t they all be privy to just what had happened and what was happening to their team mates? At least that’s what the crimson twin had thought. With a grunt and a heavy sigh Sideswipe followed through with his promise and left the med bay with Bluestreak and his annoyed golden brother.

And as soon as the door closed behind them Sideswipe turned to face the silver and black gunner. His mouth had just slipped open to address Bluestreak when the young mech beat him to the punch. His face fell slack as he listened, or partially listened, to what Blue had to say. How he could motor on for so long without a break was just uncanny.

Only a few astroseconds into his banter and Sideswipe was already bored…it was never a good idea to engage a mech with such a short attention span when it would not turn out in his favor. The red warrior grit his teeth and ground out just as Bluestreak finished up. “Okay, fine whatever. Look, you keep your nose clean and I’ll do the same thing, now just please, shut the frag up!”

Sideswipe ran a hand down the full length of his face and let out a long strangled sigh. There was no sense in prolonging this kind of torture. But after a few moments the red twin’s dour demeanor perked back up…a tell-tale sign that a devious idea was brewing in his demented little processor. In a flash he patted Bluestreak on the shoulder and offered a broad smile. “You know what, you’re right. I won’t mention it again. Now, if you’ll excuse us…Sunny and me have something to take care of.” That said Sideswipe snapped around and grabbed Sunstreaker by the wrist and started dragging his brother down the corridor. His pace was quick and contained a distinct skip. >>”Oh boy, Sunny! Have I got the perfect idea! Once we’re out of earshot I’ll clue ya in. Just bear with me! You’re gonna love this! It includes fun and abject humiliation rolled into one!”<<

Surgical Suite

And there it was. That all too familiar and all too unwanted awkward silence had settled in…silence save for the constant low cursing and mumbling that was coming from the CMO. Ratchet had never expected this kind of work so soon after their loss of not only their Prime but the loss of their own home-stronghold. It was enough to drive the hardened medical officer over the edge.

“Can NOT believe this kind of scrap would happen so soon…how in Primus’ name could this…grrrr!” The white and red mech’s mumblings steadily grew into louder, gruff spoken words. Although his musings and inquiries were directed at no one in particular they did draw the attention of both of his subordinates.

Axle had lifted his head in order to regard Ratchet but just as quickly turned his attention to First Aid who caught his own optics. Without a word both medics dove back into their work sealing off all of the damage that had been dealt to Ricochet. The marksman would survive. His physical injuries would heal quite well, but as far as any lingering psychological affects…only time would tell. “Aid?” The questioning tone was low so that only the Protectobot could hear it. “You didn’t answer my question…who were the other ‘Bots with Rodimus?” And there it was again. He had to stall, but how? To First Aid’s relief the door to the surgical suite opened allowing the two medical drones and both mobile med-slabs enter the large room. Axle looked up from the wound he was dressing to look at the mangled Autobots that adorned the smooth energon soaked surfaces. Bidder and Tonton. “Holy Primus. You said…but I…I didn’t think it was that bad.” First Aid shook his head slowly before he looked up at Axle. “Trust me, it was bad.”

“You have GOT to be slaggin’ kidding me! What am I supposed to do with those?!” Ratchet had turned around from the CR Chamber’s terminal when he heard the door open and the drones enter. When the slabs were locked into place and the anti-grav plates were deactivated the CMO stomped over to have a look at the two deceased ‘Bots. “What a fragging mess. Aid! Who were they and what happened?”

The Protectobot gestured to the last tear that he was working on to Axle who took over while he made his way toward Ratchet. “This one was Bidder…” he pointed to the slab on the right and then gestured to the one on the left. “…he was Tonton.” He took a quick look over his shoulder noticing that the black and green medic was paying more attention to Ricochet then he was to the explanation he had already received. “Bidder was eviscerated and Tonton was ripped apart…” Ratchet let out a low angry growl… “Slaggin’ sick ‘Cons…” First Aid shook his head catching his superior’s attention; a quizzical look etched on Ratchet’s face. “It wasn’t just a ‘Con, Ratch. One of them was ours.”

Ratchet simply stared at First Aid for nearly an entire breem before he finally shook himself out of his stupor. “Rodimus did this?” “No, sir. He had two other Autobots with him and two ‘Cons. He called them his “Heralds”. From behind the small doctor Axle looked up as Ratchet pressed for more information. “Two other Autobots? Who?” First Aid fidgeted slightly before a stern warning glare from the CMO hastened his answer. “Hardhead and Hex.”

The sound of metal crashing upon metal caused both First Aid and Ratchet to turn their attention to Ricochet’s prone form. Behind the slab backed up pressed firmly against the wall stood Axle, a shocked unbelieving expression spread on his faceplate. “No.”

Medical Bay

Blurr's words did little to comfort Saferoute as she still tried to grasp just what had gone on, but she appreciated it none the less.

"Thanks. Maybe I'll take you up on that offer later.", she replied with a half-hearted smile.

Once all the uninjured mechs had left and the medics had all gone to the surgical suite to tend to the critical patients, that left only her and Blades- at least until Axle walked in afterward.

Oh no, she thought to herself, looking away from the medic as she went to one of the medical stations. Judging by his demeanor, it seemed unlikely that Axle had heard the news about his young protege. She overheard the medic check up and talk to Blades, who insisted that Ratchet and the others would need his help with the other mechs in the surgical suite. In a way she was relieved that he left so quickly, as it saved her from telling him what had happened to Hex on the planet.

"Argh!", she grunted as her burned aft touched the cold bench as she tried to sit down, reminding her of the missile she'd taken from Hardhead. A painful reminder of what a fool she had been. She then grit her teeth as one of the medical drones started pulling out some of the buck shot she had taken from Swindle, yet another reminder. Trying to distract herself from the pain, she looked over to Blades, also tending to his own wounds.

"So tell me something.", she asked the Protectobot, "Were you guys sent down there to help us, rescue us, or take us into custody?"


Surgical Suite

Hoist kept himself plenty busy as the medics did all they could to save the two bots, handing parts and tools as needed, checking vital signs and cleaning up the occasional spill or mess that would have got in the way. As professional as ever he kept quiet, not letting the CMO's seeming never-ending cursing get to him.

You can't blame a mech whose been under so much pressure for letting off a little steam.

As the two slabs holding what was left of Tonton and Bidder were brought in, Hoist stopped dead in his tracks. It didn't take any kind of medical training to see that the two were far beyond saving, even with two of the Autobots very best medical personel in Ratchet and First Aid.

Ever after all these vorns of war, I don't know if I've ever seen such damage dealt to any mech like that. It's more like they'd been ripped apart by some savage animal!

Hoist's optics widened as First Aid explained that this had not been a typical casualty from the Decepticons, but that at least one of them had been terminated by one of their own!

If Hoist had heard this a cycle ago, he would have scoffed and brushed it off as wild accusations that had been started by Red Alert. But after seeing what had happened to Howlstrike, there was little denying that such a thing could happen.

After some more back and forth between the two doctors, First Aid finally revealed who the traitors were, Rodimus, Hardhead, and Hex. Before Hoist could say anything or even react, he heard the crash from Axle, backed up against the wall. To say the medic looked shocked would have been an understatement.

Hoist dropped what he was doing and walked over to Axle. Hoist knew that the medic had taken the young Hex under his wing, but he also knew just how much of a hothead the scout could be at times. He couldn't imagine just how hard it was for Axle to try to keep his protege on the straight and narrow, and then find out that he had become a traitor?

"Axle, try to relax.", Hoist said calmly but sternly, as he stood in front of the medic, gently placing his hands on his shoulders,, "I can't begin to imagine what must be going through your mind right now, but going into a panic isn't going to help anyone! You have a patient right in front of you who needs your care right now, so you need to pull yourself together!"

Hoist took a step back and motioned his hand toward the mech in stasis behind him, "You can find out just what happened to Hex and do whatever you feel you need to do later, but right now Ricochet needs your complete attention!"

Bridge

Blaster busily toiled away monitoring the Autobot and human frequencies. He also scanned for any trace of Decepticon chatter on the extremely odd chance that Soundwave was distracted with other things enough to let his guard slip, but that was as likely as Cybertron being magically restored to life. Blaster detested Soundwave, and he was quite sure that the feeling was mutual. Letting a terse sigh from his intakes, Blaster checked again if there were any new arrivals coming in from the bounce chamber.

To his surprise, the list had updated since the last time he had checked. The arrivals...Yes! It was the team that had gone down to Earth to recover Hot Rod! Blaster frowned when the list of arrivals stopped. This was far from everyone. He noted First Aid's designation on the list and realized that the wounded were just beginning to return. The others shouldn't be far behind then.

In normal times, Blaster would've been content with that assumption, but these were far from normal times. He wanted some confirmation. Blaster opened a transmission to Steeljaw and Eject.

>>"Eject, Steeljaw, if you two are by the Med Bay, can you look in and see if there are any injured there? Other than Howlstrike.<<"

While he waited for a response, Blaster pulled up a holomap of Earth and honed in on the location that the Kup and the others had bounced to, scanning for unique energon signatures. Blaster frowned at the scene before him. Ultra Magnus had joined the team in the field, but that wasn't what disturbed the communications officer. It was the fact that Autobot and Decepticon energy signatures were in such close proximity with one another and - for the most part - were stationary. It could only mean a ceasefire - as unlikely as that was. Which left a chilling question in Blaster's processor.

What could've happened down there that was so dire to make both Autobots and Decepticons call for a ceasefire?

Blaster intended to find out. Just as he was about to send a private transmission to Kup, Steeljaw responded to his earlier question.

>>"A whole lot of injured just came in. Ricochet and Warpath were in really bad condition when I saw them last. 'Path was decapitated too. I bet it was the same fraggin' slagger that put Howl in critical condition too. If I ever get my fangs into them..."<<

>>"Yeah..."<< Eject interjected, >>"So anyway, we can definitely confirm that we have a whole lot of injured, and that Ratchet is...Not. Happy."<<

Blaster send back a brief acknowledgement to the two cassettobots before closing the comm link.

>>"Thanks."<<

Blaster opened a private transmission to Kup.

>>"Kup, it's Blaster. What's the situation down there? We just got a rush of injured Autobots. Do you need reinforcements?"<<

Transmission from Kup to Blaster

>>"Situation stable Blaster. Negative on reinforcements. I believe we will be returning to the Guardian shortly and Magnus can brief everyone on our current situation. Kup out."<<

Surgical Suite

If it were at all possible Axle would have pushed harder into the wall until he finally became fused to it. It would probably have been less painful than hearing that his ward was responsible for the brutal murder of one of the two soldiers laying on the slabs. The medic had known Hex was spiraling, but to resort to something as cruel as this was just something Axle could not grasp. “It couldn’t have been. Not Hex. He’s angry, sure, but he’s not one to do something like this. It’s just…just not possible.” Most of what was slipping past his lips was meant to sooth his own psyche, but it came off more as pathetic rationalizing.

Axle’s optics raked over the remains while trying desperately to piece together any kind of reason such an act of brutality was done. The black and green field medic then heard someone begin to speak to him in a calm yet stern tone. He lifted his optics from the slabs and cast a distraught expression in Hoist’s general direction. He barely registered the mechanic placing his hands on his shoulders and speaking, but when the green mech had taken a step back and pointed toward Ricochet’s unconscious body Axle finally started to refocus.

“Ricochet. Right. Ricochet…he needs…uh…” Axle raised a hand to his face plate and ran it across his forehead as he tried to recall exactly what it was he needed to do next. “No! No, no, no!” Ratchet and First Aid had finished sealing off one of the final lines in Warpath’s neck column when the CMO stepped away from the surgical slab and stomped over to Hoist. “I don’t want him in here. He’s no use to me or any of the patients if he can’t pull himself together!” Axle’s head shot up and set his optics on the white and red doctor. “I can finish this!” he yelled back to the CMO. Ratchet let out a grunt as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You can’t even remember what you were supposed to do next!” He raised his hand and pointed to the door… “Get out! Hoist you go with him. I’m sure there’re patients out there who’re in less critical condition. You take care of them, and then when you think you’ve got a handle on yourself you come back in here.”

Axle narrowed his optics and balled his hands into tight shaking fists. For a long moment he held his ground optics glued to Ratchet’s. Neither mech gave an inch until Axle turned on his heel and stormed out of the suite. The CMO let out a heavy sigh and placed a hand on Hoist’s shoulder. “Do me a favor and keep an optic on him. He’s just as hardheaded as that little slagger he watches. It may not seem like it but he’s prone to plenty of stupidity.” That said Ratchet moved back to First Aid’s side. “You don’t think you were too hard on him do you?” Ratchet shook his head as he took his welder back to Warpath’s neck column. “Axle’s a good medic, hell he was good doctor, but he lets his emotions run everything in his life. Which in turn makes him do idiotic things. Insubordination being one of them. Why do you think he was demoted?”

Corridor outside Medical Bay

Sunstreaker was only mildly annoyed at being pushed out of the med bay. Unlike his twin he wasn’t particularly interested in the various wounds and injuries the other Autobots were coming in with. He also wasn’t particularly interested in watching Sideswipe continue to pick on Bluestreak. The talkative Autobot was an annoyance at the most, not really worth the torment Sideswipe was trying to put him through. Then Bluestreak fought back with some long, pointless drivel and even Sideswipe called it all off.

The warrior just snickered as Sideswipe absorbed the defeat. He wasn’t exactly having a good day, defeated by a chatterbox and a rodent. He was going to have to give him some slag about that later on.

Before the yellow Autobot could say anything though Sideswipe’s miniscule attention span was caught by something else bright and shiny. He grabbed his wrist and began dragging him down the corridor, radioing him about some fantastic idea he had. Sunstreaker had heard this all before too many times to get very interested or excited. He did, however, shake off his twin’s grip on his wrist.

“You know better then to grab me like that. And stop skipping like a moron, you’re embarrassing yourself and, by association, me. Now what stupid idea do you have in store for me this time?”

Corridor outside Med Bay

Bluestreak’s ongoing ramblings had no sooner come to a brief end, it was always brief for him, when an irritated Sideswipe had finally had enough and told the gunner to shut the frag up already. The black and silver mech was used to such treatment from most of his comrades, especially after he had drone on and on for so long. It didn’t bother him and at least in this situation it seemed to have lead to the red twin accepting the fact that the chatterbot was in no way responsible for Howlstrike’s current and unfortunate situation.

“Okay, no problem, Sideswipe,” Bluestreak replied as the crimson warrior excused himself and pulled his golden brother with him down the corridor. “Glad you finally realize that I'm innocent. No hard feel....” The gunner stopped talking again as the Autobot twins disappeared around a bend. Once again Blue was left alone with only himself as company. It wouldn’t be very long until his thoughts drifted to places he didn’t want to revisit, so he needed to find something else to occupy himself and soon.

Bluestreak turned and looked back towards the med bay door as he considered hanging around for a little while until Howlstrike had awakened from his CR nap. The gunner’s curiosity was at an all-time high in regards to what had happened to the former Predacon. Decapitation was pretty severe and ‘Streak figured for a moment that he would go straight to Howl, himself, once he was up and about in order to find out exactly who did that to him and why. It would also give the black and silver mech a reason to keep an optic on the Autobot hunter once again and make sure that he didn’t go off half-cocked seeking vengeance against the one responsible for severing his head.

But I can’t go back in there, Bluestreak thought inwardly as he took a seat on a bench just outside of the med bay door. Hoist already yelled at me to get out and I’d just be in everyone’s way. I guess I’ll just wait here and hope that Howl wakes up soon. The gunner’s thoughts trailed off as he looked up to the ceiling and then back down at his actuators. A breem went by when he realized that his processor had already begun to inadvertently access some of those dark memories that he tried so desperately to avoid. This isn’t working. I need something to do or someone to talk to. Preferably the latter.

Letting out a defeated sigh, Bluestreak stood up and considered his options. After a few astroseconds of careful contemplation, a small maintenance drone appeared from around a corner and was about to roll by the med bay when the chatterbot looked down and took a single step in front of it. “Hey there, little fella! How’s it going?” The drone was abruptly stopped by the larger Autobot, it’s single optic staring straight up at the sight of the black and silver mech that had greeted him like a regular ‘Bot. “Are you able to talk?” Blue asked as the drone replied with a series of beeping sounds and nothing more. “Oh, I guess not. That’s okay. I’ll do all the talking.”

Bluestreak smiled and gave the maintenance drone a friendly pat on the cranium. He then guided it over to the bench near the med bay door where the gunner sat back down and began speaking to the mechanism like it was his best friend, going on and on about anything he could think of. While the drone could not reply back to him, it mattered little. The chatterbot very rarely gave anyone the chance to respond to his babbling anyway, so it worked out perfectly for him at this juncture. Just as long as talking to this mere drone kept the bad memories at bay, Blue would be just fine. Of course, any of his fellow Autobots that walked by him at this point would think he was crazy for having a “conversation” with a drone, but what else was new? Most thought he was a tad nuts regardless.

OoC: Actions agreed upon by WnR and I.

Camera Depot

There weren't many things Jazz disliked in this universe. Negligence, for one, is pretty much at the top of the list. Also on there was having someone point a gun in his face. One time is forgivable, but twice in the same hour? Downright infuriating.

It was when Eject knocked on the door and Red Alert's attention was drawn that gave Jazz the opportunity that he desired.

Jazz waited until he heard the words "I'm off" from Eject and for the footsteps to begin to fade when he reached out beneath Red Alert's hand. In an instant, Jazz flashed his light show into the highly tuned optics of the paranoid security officer, giving Jazz the opportunity to bring his hand up from beneath the hilt of Red Alert's weapon, causing it to soar from it's owner's hand.

Catching the weapon midair, Jazz slammed the barrel of the gun upon the table, dismantling it immediately. Simultaneously, the director grabbed and twisted the missile on it's launcher, causing it to jam in place. Whilst his hand was there, Jazz grabbed the neck of the security officer and pushed it to the table, grabbing Red Alert's arm along the way and holding it in a painful position to Red Alert's back.

With his free hand, Jazz made like he had just pulled his own gun from his hilt, but instead he pressed his first finger to the temple of Red Alert's as if a gun.

"Bang." Jazz said.

Leaning in closer, Jazz continued, "If I was working with Prowl, which I am not, and he wanted you out of the way, I would have already killed you. Oh, and by the way, if you point another weapon at me again, we are going to have a problem. Do you want us to have a problem?"

Pressing his finger to the side of Red Alert's head harder, Jazz followed up with a phrase he learned from an Earthen movie, "Well, do ya, punk?"

Camera Depot

"AAGH!", Red Alert shouted in pain, the sudden burst of light and sound too much for his sensitive optical and audio sensors to take. Blinded and overwhelmed by the sudden sensory overload, the security director could do nothing as Jazz disarmed both of his weapons and restrained him.

As Red Alert's sensors re-oriented themselves, he found himself face down on the table, his arm held up behind his back by the special ops director. He struggled to free himself, but there was no escaping Jazz's grip. He winced as Jazz "shot" him, but it only seemed to infuriate the security director even more.

"I KNEW IT!!!!", he shouted incredulously, "I KNEW YOU WERE PART OF THIS!!! I-"

Before Red Alert could continue his ramblings, Jazz explained things calmly, though his grip never let up. It made some sense to Red Alert, though he was given little choice as it was quite clear that the special ops director wasn't about to let him out easy. As the security director felt the digit press against his head, he shut his optics down and tried to think.

All right, so that proves that Jazz could have taken me out easily if he had wanted to, but that still doesn't say what's going on..... Ugh, I've been going about this whole ordeal foolishly, running like a turbofox in the middle of a hunt. And what about the turbofox? It must have something with everything, at the very least with Wheeljack and the stolen shuttle. But then there's also the Dinobots taking the Ark-19 at approximately the same time, that can't just be a coincidence, can it? And Prowl lied to me about that, so he could be involved. And what about Hot Rod's strange transformation, and all those bots following him off the planet, possibly killing Howlstrike? Wait, wait, I'm overthinking this all, aren't I? Slaggit, I wish Rung was here, he always managed to help me sort out my thoughts. Right, right, remember Rung, remember our sessions. What did he always tell me whenever it seemed like there were greater forces conspiring.....

After a breem of deep thouht, Red Alert's optics came back online as he finally reached a breakthrough.

"Oh dear Primus, I've been such an idiot!", he said to himself, his face still down on the table, "I- I'm sorry Jazz, there's no problem between us.", he said calmly, "I promise, I won't threaten you, ever again. Now please, let me up. There's a lot more going on than you know, and we need to work fast! We need to tell Ratchet who attacked Howlstrike, then we need to tell Prowl everything that's happened here over the past few cycles."


Medical Bay- Surgical Suite

Hoist had hoped that he could talk Axle through whatever grief he was going through and get him trudge forward, but it was clearly not enough as the medic seemed to be stuck in a fog, trying to remember exactly what he was supposed to do. Before Hoist could say or do anything further to help, Ratchet stormed over and made it clear to the green mech that he didn't want the distracted medic in there.

It was then that Axle insisted that he was capable of finishing his work, which led to a shouting, followed by what seemed like a staring contest between the two medical bots. Hoist could only stand and watch before the CMO ordered both him and Axle to leave and tend to the wounded in the medical bay proper. Axle stormed out, and just as the green mechanic was about to follow him, Ratchet stopped him, making sure that Hoist would keep an optic on the medic and make sure he didn't make any stupid mistakes.

"I understand, Ratchet. I'll keep him from doing anything foolish."


Medical Bay- Proper

After a breem of being poked and prodded by medical drones, Saferoute finally had to stand up, if only to relieve the pain that sitting gave her damaged back section. Just as she did, she saw Axle storm out of the surgical suite.

Oh no...., she thought.

Not long after, Hoist walked out and went up to the visibly upset medic.

"Axle,", the green mechanic said in a calming tone, keeping a little distance to give the medic his space, "Please, try to calm yourself. I'm sorry that I tried to push you back into work, but Ratchet is right, you're not in the right frame of mind to be handling such delicate procedures. Look, there are a couple of 'bots out here you can tend to. Or, if you really feel you need it, you can go to your quarters for a cycle and try to sort out your thoughts and I can tend to them. Just please, don't do anything rash just to prove Ratchet wrong."

Saferoute sighed, shaking her head.

"You found out what happened down there, huh Axle?", she called out.