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“How was the mission? Did you scrap with any Cons? What did you bring back?” Miko rapidly fired questions as soon as they exited the groundbridge. She was already skipping stairs to the main area. “Is it really cool? Will it help beat up the Cons?”
“Whoa. Slow down, Miko,” Bulkhead interjected as the groundbridge closed behind them.
“Yes, please,” Ratchet huffed. How that human had so much energy would be a mystery to Ratchet. “We need to get these protoforms checked on as soon as possible.”
“Protoforms?” Raf meekly questioned as his head peeked between the safety bars surrounding the ‘human area’ of the base.
“Yes,” Ratchet quickly muttered.
He had to quickly get everything read in a room further in base before Optimus began pulling the half a dozen or so protoforms they found. During patrol, Bumblebee had found a weak Cybertronian distress beacon. With the nearby earthquakes that had been altering the terrain in that particular area, Optimus suspected the signal was only uncovered now due to the ship being knocked loose from its prison in the ground. Without knowing if the distress beacon was a trick or real or if a Cybertronian had made it to stasis to survive, most of Team Prime had mobilized, including Ratchet. They hadn’t found any Cybertronians alive. Just three workers had died in the crash on Earth. Their cargo, however, had been astonishing. Fully intact protoforms. Bumblebee was explaining this to the kids, with Rafael translating. Good riddance to Ratchet. He could now try to focus on everything and direct Arcee and Bulkhead to help him.
The protoforms would be good to have on hand in case someone got injured. Typically, the protoforms would be on hand to receive a spark from the Well of Allsparks; however, with Cybertron extinguished, the protoforms could only be used for one thing: transplants. It was a practice typically looked down on before the war. Only the high class among Cybertronians could afford it. The process consisted of taking an uninjured spark and transplanting it from a destroyed frame to the prototype so the spark could live.
“So…like a reverse heart transplant?” Jack asked as Bumblebee finished explaining.
“In human terms, yes,” Ratchet muttered.d
“Cool!” Miko yelled. “Can I see them? Pretty please?”
“Uh…,” Bulkhead said, giving a quick glance at Ratchet. The medic shot him a look. He did not need the exchange student’s hands all over this important find. “Maybe later, Miko. How about you try and find out when the next Monster Truck Mash is happening.”
Miko groaned, a sparkle in her eyes that told Ratchet and Bulkhead to make sure to keep an eye on her.
“Ratchet. I am ready to bridge to base,” The Last Prime commed to base.
“Understood,” Ratchet answered quickly, turning back to work.
The old field medic had a lot to do besides watch the human children. One was looking up for the old files on protoform transplants. He would have to make to be prepared in case the operation was needed after all. Ratchet prayed that he wouldn’t.
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“Hey, Ratchet. Where do you want me to put this equipment?” Wheeljack asked as he stumbled through the lab portion. “I know you are very particular about your lab.”
“Just out of the way, Wheeljack,” Ratchet grumbled, optics deep in a microscope. “I need you over here to measure the Synth-en levels on this device of yours.”
There was a crash that caused the Autobot doctor to stop what he was doing. His optics buried into Wheeljack’s helm as the bot strolled over.
The Wreaker smiled. “What doc? I just set them out of the way. Now, do you want me to do what you just asked me to do or kick me out like you did Bulkhead last time I was here?”
“What have I told you about calling me Doc?” Ratchet scowled, shifting the microscope’s view to continue studying the Syth-en sample. “And second, just because you are the only other Autobot on this side of the galaxy that is somewhat knowledgeable in cybertronian mechanics doesn’t mean I won't throw you out by your helm.”
“Understood.” Wheeljack laughed. “Now, where is that tiny human that is supposed to be helping us?”
“Here!” Rafael called from the floor. Ratchet instinctively reached down to pick him up and set him on one of the tables where Ratchet was currently working. The boy quickly hopped off and opened his laptop, which he had been carrying. “Any changes in what the Synth-en has been doing?”
“None. Still unstable,” Ratchet muttered. “No matter how I configure the elements, the Synth-en overloads the systems of whatever it's powering, despite Wheeljack’s best efforts.”
The Wreaker had only been helping Ratchet in the project to help with more finding other uses for the Synth-en, that completing the formula. If the Syth-en couldn’t be used for the Autobots, perhaps it could be used for additional weapons and systems to allow their energon reserves to be used for the team. His stubbornness, though infuriating most of the time, seemed to be working wonders on him as he tried to develop prototypes that could handle the Synth-en.
“Hmmm,” Rafael said, typing on his laptop. “Perhaps the reason why the Syth-en isn’t working is because early Cybetronians knew of a material that we just don’t have access to?”
“A probability that we can’t rule out,” Ratchet grunted, removing the slide of Synth-en from the microscope. “But we must work with what we have and not worry about what we don’t.”
So the three worked on formulating new compounds and different wiring methods to get everything to work. They flowed surprising well, bouncing off ideas to one another on how something could be improved. That was until a few hours later.
“Ow!” Rafael yelped.
The device Wheeljack had been testing crashed into him. A device that flew despite not having the components needed to achieve flight. At least originally.
“You alright kid?” Wheeljack asked quicklying grabbing the device and crushing it just enough to make sure it didn’t take off again without destroying it completely.
“Yeah,” the boy said, being careful not to move his arm. Ratchet’s energon nearly boiled at the sight of red that was coming from the appendage. It was bleeding just enough to start dripping on the floor, right beside their recently tested Synth-en formula. “Just a small cut,” Raf muttered, seeing Ratchet looking at the arm.
“Yip, yip, yip,” Ratchet stated. “Go and get that cleaned up this instance. I don’t need Nurse Darby on my tailpipe.”
The boy covered his mouth, trying not to laugh as he nodded. “Okay, Ratchet. I’ll help clean up this mess when I get back.” The boy responded.
Ratchet helped him back down. He waddled toward the main area of the base to find the first aid kit the humans kept for situations just like this. Ratchet went back to cleaning up the mess as soon as Rafael turned the corner. There wasn’t a chance that Ratchet was letting Rafel clean up Synth-en.
“Huh,” Wheeljack tilted his helm as the mess Ratchet was coming to clean. “Hey, Doc. I don’t think that is normal.”
“For the last time, Wheeljack! What hav… by the Allspark.” Ratchet quickly tattered off as he saw what the Wreaker was looking at.
The Sythen-en was turning green-white as it mixed with Rafel’s blood on the table. The consistency was even changing from liquid to more solid as they combined. Ratchet reacted quickly, finding a display slide to scrape the substance onto and put under the microscope.
“What is going on there, Ratchet?” Wheeljack, hovering as close to Ratchet’s strut as previous experience would let him without annoying the field medic.
“Shhh,” Ratchet demanded as he focused on the slide. Wheeljack, thankful, went quiet. The field medic watched carefully as the two substances merged. Internal systems began to stall as he watched further and further. He almost couldn’t believe it. “The Synth-en is molding Raf’s human DNA into Cybertronian CNA.”
Ratchet moved, giving a silent invitation for Wheeljack to look at himself. A rare invitation that Wheeljack quickly accepted. The Wreaker turned the dials on the microscope, watching with fascination just as Ratchet had done moments before.
“As interesting as this is, what does it mean?” The Wreaker asked. “Micromechanics was never my strong suit.”
“First off, it means this specific version of Synth-en needs to stay as far away from the kids as possible,” Ratchet emphasised with his arms. “Next is something I am not completely sure about.”
With a turn, Ratchet turned back to the microscope and picked up the slide. The former substances had finished merging and had become a solid piece of cybertronian metal. His processor began firing as to what this could mean for both Cybertronians and humans alike.
“More tests need to be done,” Ratchet muttered after a moment. “There are so many possibilities this discovery could have.”
“Once again, I must ask, like what?”
“My first thought is the ability for humans to become Cybertronian through this method,” Ratchet said, scoffing soon after. He couldn’t believe those words had come out of this mouth. “A possibility, I fear, if the Decepticons were ever to find out about it.”
“Well, what should we do to find out?” The Wreaker smirked, always ready for a challenge.
“Nothing,” Ratchet vented, tossing the display away. It shattered against one of the walls. “Our focus should be on completing the Synth-en formula and not toying with life like many Decepticon scientists have.”
Ratchet started a Wheeljack, just asking for him to challenge him. The Wreaker stared at the medic, optics wide. It was a stareoff, neither on of them moving until the two were interrupted by Rafael’s return.
“Hey!” the boy cheered as he came back in, slowing as he watched the two bots. “Is everything alright?”
“Everything is fine, Rafael,” Ratchet glared at the Wreaker one more time before turning to the boy, smiling softly. “Let's try and see what we can do to fix that formula.”
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If only Ratchet weren’t a hypocrite. It only took Wheeljack suggesting ideas for their discovery for Ratchet to tumble further down the hole. The need to know, to discover, was eating at his fuel lines. What could this mean for Cybertron? The Universe? Besides, every scientist needed a side project to work on when they were too frustrated with the main one.
Against his own advice, but still informing Optimus of what was happening, Ratchet began researching and testing when no humans were around. He didn’t want to give them any ideas or risk any exposure to the Synth-En. It took a few weeks before a more solid theory formed.
The Synth-en formula responsible for cybernizing Raf’s blood worked by destroying the human structure before using its components with the Synth-en to reform Cybertronian ones. A human wouldn’t survive if the Synth-En were tossed on them. Their structure would break down before new Cybertronian ones could form.
However… there was another way that could theoretically result in a proper human to Cybertronian. One Ratchet refused to test. The cost would be too high.
That was until there wasn’t any other choice.
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“MIKO!!!” A deafening yell echoed across the battlefield.
Ratchet took care of the Decepticon in front of him before scanning his optics to find the voice of the Wreaker that had screamed. Across the desert landscape, it wasn’t hard to find the huge green Autobot, even if he was kneeling over something.
No. Someone.
Over the eons, the field medic knew when a voice box yelled like that, it meant a bot was down. Ratchet transformed, running over some vechion drones as he pushed to reach Bulkhead. Superheated energon flew past him, but he dodged, knowing the rest of Team Prime would cover him as he performed his job.
The only reason he was here in the field again was because another Cybertronian signal, similar to the ship that the Autobots had found the protoforms in had surfaced. Like last time, Ratchet was asked to come along in case there were survivors. This time, however, Decepticons greeted them outside the empty ship.
The field medic transformed back to root mode as he came up to the Wreaker. However, eons of war could not prepare him for what he found. Miko was lying in the dirt, limbs in the wrong directions and bleeding from… everywhere. Even still, the girl’s eyes were wide open, her body fighting to keep breathing, to keep surviving.
“Ratchet…You have to help her.” Bulkhead spoke, barely audible as he stared at the girl below him. “Please… help her.”
Ratchet’s voicebox wouldn’t let him respond. After the incident with Rafael, Ratchet had made sure to know how to treat their human companions. Nurse Darby and he traded information on how to deal with each other’s species. One thing Nurse Darby had said was that sometimes, if the body had too much trauma, you can’t help them. Only comfort them as they pass on and hope they aren’t in pain. A triage black, she had called it. It was something Ratchet had also seen happen to bots on the field of war, but not to a human… not to Miko.
“Ratchet! Do something!” Bulkhead yelled desperately. “Save her!”
“I don’t think I can!” Ratchet yelled back.
“What do you mean you can’t!” Bulkhead’s voice dropped again. It was only shock. Ratchet knew the Wreaker would be back to anger momentarily.
“Her body is too far damaged,” Ratchet explained, shaking his helm. “Even if this was a bot, I couldn’t be able to repair the bo….dy…”
His experiments came to him. Every test Ratchet had been running over the last few weeks, with Wheeljack on occasion. The theories the medic had formed but hadn’t tested. If his theories were right, this may be the only way to save Miko.
“Wheeljack,” Ratchet commed on the emergency line.”
“What’s up?” Wheeljack answered quickly. Thankfully, the bot was currently reporting to the silo to repair the Jackhammer after blowing an energon mine.
“I need you to bring the Synth-en formula and one of the protoforms from the base. Immediately!” Ratchet commanded.
“Can I g…?” Wheeljack started to ask.
“Here now, or Miko is going to be one with the Allspark.” Ratchet scowled.
The line quickly went dead. Ratchet turned his attention back to the patient. Miko was beginning to grow paler and paler, lips turning blue.
“We don’t have much time,” Ratchet scowled. “Miko, you have been injured, but Wheeljack and I are going to try something to save your life. It is only a theory, and afterwards… You won’t be the same.”
Miko didn’t respond. Ratchet wasn’t even sure if Miko was able to comprehend what was being said. A groundbridge opened behind the two bots a second later. Wheeljack burst through, protoform slung over his shoulder, a surgery kit in his servo, and bottles of both processed energon and the Synth-en.
“What happened?” Wheeljack asked, sliding to Ratchet’s other side.
“Miko…she must have snuck in behind us,” Bulkhead’s voice cracked. “I should’ve noticed.”
“No time for that,” Ratchet said, grabbing the Synth-en from Wheeljack. “Now move. We are going to need all the room and cover we need to pull this off.”
“Pull what off?” Bulkhead asked, moving away all the while.
“Are you sure this is the only way?” Another voice joined the field surgery.
“Optimus…” Ratchet paused just to vent for a nanocycle. “Do you think I would be attempting this if I didn’t?”
The Prime nodded, setting a servo on Bulkhead’s strut. “Miko is in the best servos she can be.”
There was something in Optimus’s optics that said otherwise, or perhaps he knew the horrors Ratchet was about to inflict to help save their ally in this war. An ally that shouldn’t even be here fighting alongside them.
“Do you know how to prep the protoform?” Ratchet asked Wheeljack as they got to work.
“Yes,” a short response came.
“Do it. Quickly.” Ratchet directed. “I’ll prep her for the transfer.”
Everything seemed to fade from Ratchet’s peripheral vision. His only focus was his tools, this patient, and the procedure he was about to do. Ratchet begged Primus that he could save Miko. Even though she gave him processor overloads any time she played her music, annoyed the doctor when she was bored, or complained about anything she could, Miko was someone Ratchet didn’t want to lose. Like all the children, Miko had wormed her way into his spark with her courage and resilience.
“This is going to hurt,” Ratchet muttered to Miko, just in case she could still comprehend what was going on, before taking the smallest syringe he had and stuck in her chest.
Miko gasped, eyes fluttering wide for a second before they began to fall, almost closed. Ratchet kept his servos steady, trying not to panic. They were losing her. Ratchet connected the Synth-en to the syringe and pushed it in fast. The human body went rigid, the red on the ground slowly becoming white, as the Synth-en began to transform it. Ratchet couldn't care less about the body itself. Only one thing was needed to make this work.
“Kit,” Ratchet said.
The surgical kit was promptly handed over by Wheeljack. With practice ease, Ratchet opened it and took out what he needed with one servo as he continued to fuel Synth-en into Miko’s system. Ratchet could hear Bulkhead let out a soft gasp as he pulled out the surgical blade.
“Bulkhead, you may want to look away,” was the only warning the medic gave before cutting along the human’s chest. Flesh ripped and bones further cracked as the blade tore away everything in its path.
Ratchet halted just for a moment to gaze inside Miko’s chest. Inside a spark pulsed unsteadily, fighting to survive. Just like Miko to keep fighting.
“Energon,” Ratchet commanded as he threw the syringe and blade to the side to grab the tweezers from the kit.
Wheeljack responded without a word, producing one of the containers of energon with its lid off. With delicate servos, Ratchet reached in and plucked the spark out of the human’s chest and placed it in the energon. The spark grew brightly, growing from its small size to a full-sized cybertronian spark.
“Protoform ready?”
“Ready to go Ratchet,” Wheeljack nodded, quickly shifting himself be at the side of the protoform he had laid near Miko’s head.
Ratchet also moved to be on the opposite side of Wheeljack. The field medic quickly checked over the protoform’s levels and compared it to the transplant files he had found and studied after finding the protoforms. The Wreaker had done well, giving the protoform the energon needed to start functioning once the spark was implanted.
“Now or never,” Ratchet muttered to himself, sending another plea to Primus.
“Come on, Miko. Keep fighting.” Wheeljack spoke to the spark as he presented the container of energon to Ratchet again.
Ratchet grabbed the spark with his servos, ever so carefully. Holding a spark was always sacred to Ratchet. Holding the life of a cybertronian literally in his servo. A creation of THE Primus. While this spark wasn’t of Primus’s creation, it was still very much a life in his hands, one he was hoping he could save.
The protoform, sensing the spark, moved its plating, allowing access to the empty spark chamber. The spark… Miko’s spark was gently sent into the chamber. Everyone remained quiet and the protoform whirled, deciding it would accept the spark.
With a whirl, the protoform’s plating closed. Energy sparked along the proform, movement coming to the peds and servos just for a moment before subsiding again. The main indication, though, that had Ratchet sigh with relief is when the optics shone online for a second until they dimmed again.
“Ratchet?” Optimus asked softly.
Shaking all the fear and nervousness off for another moment, Ratchet scanned the protoform, now a full cybertronian.
“Stasis.” Ratchet vented. “The transplant seems to have worked. All we can do is monitor her now.”
Bulkhead stalked forward slowly, looking at the frame before him. The frame was begging to shift, forming to the spark inside. It would take a few groons for the transplant to be complete officially. Not until the spark and frame melded together perfectly.
“Miko…she’s…” Bulkhead stared.
“She is alive,” Ratchet said, choking for a moment, glancing at Wheeljack, who cast his optics down at the former protoform as well. “We managed to save her.”
They managed to save her. However, the cost of it was high. Miko was no longer human and now, like it or not, she would never be able to leave this war.
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Miles away, watching on a screen, a man with a scar watched the scene intently.
“Interesting,” the man hummed, a smile on his lips.
“Silias,” a figure appeared behind him. A man dressed in grey and green leather, a mask over his face. “The robots have been transferred per your request. What shall we do with them, sir?”
“We shall prepare them,” Silias said, eyes still on the screen where the Autobots surrounded the new Autobot… Their new Chimera. “It seems we must rethink Project Chimera,” Silias said. “And capture our new recruits. After all, I do believe Jackson and Rafel may be a bit jealous,” the man gleamed, a plan already formulating in his sick, twisted mind.