[video] + 001

[asafepairofhands]

[The feed cuts on to show a Cybertronian with a red and white helm, blue optics, and what appears to be a habitually irritated expression on his face. His voice is brisk and no-nonsense.]

This is Ratchet, former Chief Autobot Medical Officer. I've been assigned here as a field medic, apparently, though I'm volunteering to lend my hand in the medical bay on the ship in my off-time. I have no idea where we are or what happened to get us here, which I can deal with considering everything else that's happened the last year or so, but I really don't like not knowing the effects this "Ingress" [brings bright red hands, chipped in places to reveal specks of blue paint, up to add scarequotes] thing may have had on us, so I want people in for checkups.

Autobots, since there seem to be some of you on the ship, I'm assuming I'm still ranking medical officer here so I'm making that an order--report to Moro deck room 022 earliest. Non-Autobots... I obviously can't order you to do anything, but barring any wild extenuating circumstances you're welcome to drop by for a systems check also. You won't be turned away out of hand.

I specialize in non-organic medicine so if there are any non-Cybertronians on board who fit that bill, I can't promise anything, but I'll take a look. If you're strictly organic, you should probably just hit the regular medibay, but I've got some experience and I won't turn you away if you want to come here instead for whatever reason.

Any current medical officers seeing this, I'd like to talk supplies and if I can get put on rotation--I have a holomatter avatar, same as the others, so I'll fit just fine. Unless any of you expect my field medic duties to take up the majority of my time, in which case I would like a much more thorough briefing on what the fresh hell is going on here.

Ratchet out.

Comments

[asafepairofhands]

Wait, seriously?

[Ratchet's optics narrow slowly.]

Do you not have a Decepticon Justice Division, where you come from?

[aerospacecommander]

Again that sounds like another oxymoron. But no. We do not.

Though it sounds like something Megatron would name his fist.

[asafepairofhands]

[Holy shit. How does he even begin.]

Well. [His voice is carefully measured, and he doesn't look amused at all anymore.] The DJD was something Megatron cooked up fairly early, I think. A group of five Decepticons who took the names of Decepticon cities--and they're changeable if one of them is killed or something else happens, I know there've been at least two Voses--and who hunt traitors and defectors from the Cause. And by 'hunt' I mean seek out specifically to kill, but not before torturing them in the most spectacular fashion they can think up. It's a deterrent, to keep the rest of the 'Cons in line.

[One of Ratchet's shoulders shifts in a shrug, but his mouth is pressed into a flat, uncompromising line.] It's effective, up to a point--I've had POWs refuse treatment, even beg me on my operating table to let them die rather than be fixed by an Autobot and risk being put on the List as a traitor. Tarn leads the DJD--always has, as far as I can tell. He's the same Tarn since the beginning, I think.

So, yeah. Having dead bodies hanging up on his wall doesn't exactly scandalize me. But he is cruel and he is vicious and above all he is relentless, and I highly suggest not crossing him if you can help it.

[aerospacecommander]

[Well, that's interesting.]

Oddly enough my Megatron prefers to deal with those he deems traitors personally. He'd probably be offended by having a task force.

Anyway he's my roommate. I haven't seen him do anything ruthless though he gets angry over his wall decorations being touched. Claims they're some sort of Decepticon artifact and whatnot.

If you ask me, he seems like a giant moron.

[asafepairofhands]

[Ratchet makes a truly herculean effort against rolling his optics and barely succeeds.]

I didn't ask you, thanks. But sure, go ahead. By all means, annoy him. Just don't come crying to me when he's dismantled your armor so he can flay through your nervecircuits one micrometer at a time and made you eat your own brain module, because I don't have the supplies to do major repairs and I will tell whatever's left of you that I told you so.

[aerospacecommander]

I never said I was going to go annoy him more. Just that he seems stupid.

Though in my defense, any action I have already taken was before you told me who he is.

[asafepairofhands]

I can't believe nobody warned you.

[aerospacecommander]

Everyone seems to assume I already know about these things. I've had so many terms thrown around at me lately. Forged, cold constructed, empurata.

And now Megatron having an evil band of fan boys.

[asafepairofhands]

Nobody's constructed cold where you're from?

...how long was your war?

[aerospacecommander]

I don't know?

Aaaand. Let's see. The war started ... uh, roughly nine million years ago. Most of us were in stasis for three or four of those million though.