.:Medical Observations:..:You Know You're An Autobot Medic When:..:Medical Observations:.9 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
o You believe that all fluid leaks stop... eventually.
o You find humour in other's stupidity.
o You believe that 90% of your patients are a poor excuse for a protoform.
o Discussing dismemberment over a few rounds of high grade seems perfectly normal to you.
o Your idea of a good time is a full system crash at shift change.
o You believe in aerial spraying of tranquillisers.
o You disbelieve 90% of what you are told and 75% of what you see.
o You have your time off planned for a year in advance.
o You encourage an obnoxious patient to sign a self-discharge form so you don't have to deal with them any longer.
o You believe that the commanders should require a permit from the High Council to do anything more dangerous than scratch their afts.
o You believe that unspeakable evils will befall anyone who utters the phrase "Wow, it's really quiet isn't it?"
.:Ratchet's Resignation:..:Ratchet's Resignation:..:Ratchet's Resignation:.8 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Dear Commanding Officer/Waste of Parts/Annoyance of the Millennium Award Winner/Pentium Reliant Collection of Scrap/Ruiner of My Life at Large/ Son of an iMac: (Del. As applicable)</i>
As a graduate of an institution of higher education known as the Medical Academy of Iacon and holder of a senior role in your staff, I have a few very basic expectations. Chief among these is that my direct superiors have an intellectual capacity that ranges above that of the common hexnut. After your consistent annoying and harassment of my co-workers and myself during the commission of our duties over the past twelve million years, I can only surmise that you are one of the few true technological and mechanical wastes of our time.
Asking me, a highly qualified, senior medical technician, to explain every little nuance of everything I do each time you happen to stroll into my office is not only a waste of time, but also a waste of precious oxygen, fuel and proc
.:Curse of The Rubik's Cube:..:The Curse of the Rubix Cube:..:Curse of The Rubik's Cube:.9 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
A strange feeling had hounded Ratchet throughout the day and now, as he sat in his office making a paper clip chain, he realised what it was. During the entire day, thus far at least, the entire eight-hour shift he'd worked up to this point, precisely slag all had happened.
The Decepticons hadn't attacked; Wheeljack hadn't been carted into medbay in a self-induced blazing inferno; Red Alert hadn't had a minor circuit seizure over a speck of dust; Sunstreaker hadn't scratched his paintjob and had a screaming blue fit about it and Prime, dear old Prime, hadn't seen fit to terrorise him with the results of yet another attack on the 'Cons base. At any other time Ratchet would have been in a really good mood about this turn of events, but no, something was wrong - very wrong.
That something was really quite simple. He was bored stiff, no actually, more than that – he was deathly bored. He linked the last paper clip in his paper clip chain to the first,
TF - Best Laid Plans"Best Laid Plans"TF - Best Laid Plans9 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Red Alert wrung his hands in concern, watching as a troop of Autobot warriors vanished down the road from the Ark, a dust cloud kicking up their wake and the Aerialbots flying off overhead. Normally, such a small rescue team wouldn't be of concern to the Security Director...except that they were the fourth one to leave in the last three days.
A few days prior, a call for help from Cybertron's Autobot femme resistance force regarding some troublesome activity from Shockwave and his drone army reached the Ark, causing Ironhide, Mirage, Smokescreen and Powerglide to climb aboard Omega Supreme for a flight home to kick a little aft. Then, late last night, word reached the Autobots from Kuwait that the country's oil fields were under heavy assault from not only the Insecticons, but the Constucticons as led by Megatron, as well. Optimus Prime gathered a force consisting of Bluestreak, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Trailbreaker, Warpath, Gea
.:The Show Down:..:Tantrums and How to Deal With Them:..:The Show Down:.9 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
It was that exact look, the look that reduced even the toughest mech to a quivering heap of fear. The look that spelled certain doom for the poor fool stupid enough to annoy Ratchet. First Aid backed away slowly, hands raised as if fending off an attack of some form, Wheeljack grimaced with a muttered, "Uh oh!" and Sunstreaker just stood there glaring right back at the CMO.
"What in the name of holy fraggin' Primus did you just say to me?!" Ratchet snarled, optics blazing neon with rage, "You slaggin' waste of parts! Get out. Get out - NOW! And don't dare darken these doors again! GO ON – OUT! GET THE FRAG OUT!"
Sunstreaker held his ground for all of thirty seconds before a red and white tornado swept him off his feet and hurled him forcibly out of medical into the corridor outside.
"No, I don't give a fraggin' damn if it's sunflower yellow instead of sunset yellow," the medic roared after him, "It can be bloody chartreuse or
.:Picking Up The Pieces:..icking Up The Pieces:..:Picking Up The Pieces:.8 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"Oh, sweet Primus…you cannot be serious! 'Jack, please – it's the fourth time this week alone and it's only goddamn well Wednesday!"
Or so went the conversation at 4am in Ratchet's quarters. If there was one thing he hated it was being unceremoniously kicked out of recharge in the wee small hours of the morning. If there were two things he hated it was being unceremoniously kicked out of recharge in the wee small hours of the morn by Wheeljack.
"It's another three hours before I'm on duty, 'Jack. Can't you call 'Aid in on this? It's his shift for frag's sake. Some of us need some downtime here," he complained into his comm.
There was a loud crash followed by an ominous silence on the other end of the comm-channel.
"Wheeljack?! Oh, come on, slaggit…not now…"
The dim blue illumination of his optics flared slightly in the darkness as he rolled reluctantly to a sitting position on his bunk. What he could really do with now was an eighteen hour 'charge sessi
.:To Say Farewell:.Chief Medical Officer's Log – Supplimentary..:To Say Farewell:.9 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
This is the end of my fourth week, the first month of my tenure as CMO. It hasn't been an easy transition; in fact I doubt I shall ever fully acclimatise to the title. It's not mine, not by right, it belongs to another. To my mentor. I can still hear him at times, still feel him watching over my shoulder, assessing my work and advising, pointing out my errors with his own gruff humour.
"Keep the ship in running order, kid, - an' for Primus sakes don't go out on any kamikaze calls."
That was the last order he gave me and I'll hold to it, I only wish he'd followed his own advice though. The Creator knows we needed him, his skills were unmatched and though he'd have been amongst the first to speak for my skills I know I'll never equal him. He could have done it; he could have saved Prime. As it was I was out on the field doing battle prep-work at the time and Perceptor had to cover for me. The realisation that I failed my duty in
TF's: Not Again Wheeljack..."Of all the ill-fated, inconceivable, incorrigible, idiotic, indescribable--"TF's: Not Again Wheeljack...8 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Autobots of all shapes and sizes paused in their daily business as the ranting voice erupted from the medbay. Some of the newer ones look around in surprise. Most merely grinned knowingly at one another. Someone had obviously pushed the wrong button on a certain medic. Once one considered the fact that the twins were presently out on patrol, it really only left one mechanism who managed to wind Ratchet up on a regular basis.
"--insane, imbecilic, ideological, ignorant... GAH! Why today of all days, Wheeljack!"
Said scientist was standing sheepishly in the doorway, dripping fluids from one hand while three newly-detached digits sat sparking in the other. His headfins flashed a soft shade of pink in embarrassment as he scratched the side of his blackened face.
"I wasn't expecting it to self-destruct so suddenly. I even had Prowl double-check the formula for the internuclear filter system. It was perfectl
For lonegamer7Subject: Wheeljack, Perceptor, Skyfire, JazzFor lonegamer77 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Line: Now, we may be idiots anyway, and thats fine with me, but Id rather be idiots with an explosion.
I havent lost my mind: its just backed up on a disk somewhere.
Exercise: One hour.
Skyfire? Jazz watched the scientists optics flicker as the mech fought to come back online. He crouched down next to him and cocked his head. Skyfire? You Ok, big guy?
The jet looked up at the ceiling, and then at the Porsche next to him, looking very dazed - and smiled. Jazz sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. It was the same huge smile he could all but guess Wheeljack was usually hiding behind his faceplate whenever the Arks Senior Engineer managed a particularly spectacular stunt even if he was the only victim. The fact that Skyfire was sprawled on the floor of Wheeljacks lab did not bode well for the Porsches peace of mind.
I think I
Drinking Game"Peter Piper pp p p…ah frag it!"Drinking Game10 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Prowl entered the common room just in time to see Ratchet knock back a shot of energon and gesture to Wheeljack with a gruff "Your turn."
Curious, the tactician walked over to where the two were sitting in a small circle that included Jazz, Bluestreak and the twins. "Excuse me, but what is going on here?" The black and white asked curiously.
"Drinkin' game." Sideswipe answered brightly.
"It's a good 'un too." Jazz added. "Gotta say a tongue twister. Y' mess it up and y' gotta take a drink. Last mech standin' wins, literally."
"Why?" Prowl queried, head tilted slightly to one side.
"We fragged the 'cons this afternoon, we're all off duty and nobody's in Repair." Ratchet said. "Now, you gonna join in or let us get back to our game?" When Prowl moved to turn away, the medic added a sly "Or are you worried we'll beat you?"
If there was one thing that Prowl could not resist, it was a challenge. He nodded and took a chair from one of the other tables and join
CSI: Ark - EpilogueSo is it me, or did we hand the cons their afts harder than we usually do? Jazz leaned back on his chair, looking about the Main Briefing Room. He knew he was making an understatement: the Autobots had fallen on their enemies like the wrath of the proverbial gods.CSI: Ark - Epilogue7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
It would seem we were unusually fortunate, yes. Prowl was still going over the section reports.
You think? Ratchet came through the door and sat down with his own data slate, rolling his shoulders before leveling a look at the SIC. When was the last time I joined you in one of these post-battle little chats?
Prowl made a non-committal sound.
Aw, youre just sore cuz you lost, Prowl. Jazz crossed his arms behind his head.
I beg your pardon? The black-and-white Datsun gave him a surprised glance. By whose definition?
I dropped a T-Rex on him!, Jazz protested, letting his chair thump forward. What more do you wa
.:Yellow Submarine Syndrome:..:Yellow Submarine Syndrome:..:Yellow Submarine Syndrome:.9 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Ratchet was really beginning to wish he hadn't dropped into the rec-room today, Blaster and Jazz were having 'Disco Day'. He hated disco music with a vengeance. Disco music was the height of bad taste, it sent him cold all over and set his audios ringing for days afterward but what was worse was the mental replay. Disco, you see, seemed to have an annoying habit of programming itself into his memory modules and replaying itself incessantly to the point where he was half ready to jack into the nearest high voltage power line to be rid of it. But even disco paled in comparison to his current problem.
He sat in his office brooding, his newly acquired Rock Anthems CD blaring at an unhealthy volume in the background to drown out that damn song. Oh yes, it'd been all well and good on the night, Yellow Submarine had seemed harmless enough but in the last 48 hours he'd had a series of visits from the other Autobots all suffering with the same complaint. He'
TF - PrankTitle - PrankTF - Prank7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Fandom - Transformers G1
Main Characters - Ratchet, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker
Rating - Teen
Requested by - zelda-lover
Word Count - 1,859
Ratchet walked down the hall, an energon cube in one hand and newly given papers in his left. He sighed, taking a sip as he continued walking, turning the corner into the medbay hall when he saw them.
It was getting late and the last thing the CMO wanted to do was deal with anymore patients, so he hoped to Primus the two figures standing in front of the medbay doors werent damaged.
As they heard footsteps, they turned and Ratchet was greeted with two pairs of blue optics.
Ratch! Thank Primus your
What do you want Sideswipe? You both look perfectly fine to me. Ratchet interrupted, crossing his arms and narrowing his optics at the red and yellow mechs.
Sunstreaker stepped forward and Sideswipe was oddly pulled along with his twin.
Glitch head here got us st
.:Fallout Zone:..:Fallout Zone:..:Fallout Zone:.8 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
It had been a long day, the sort of long day that made you want to throw something at the clock and swear profusely. The sort of long day where no matter what you do time just seems to have stopped dead – and it was only midday.
Ratchet trudged to his quarters from medical, glaring coldly at anyone who even so much dared step on his shadow. Reaching his destination the CMO slammed a fist down on the control panel, the door slid open and he stepped inside automatically turning to key in the security lock code, not in the least bit willing to entertain company.
He all but threw himself into a nearby chair exclaiming, "What sort of god did I offend in a past life? What the frag did I do to anyone to warrant this?!" brandishing a clenched red fist at the ceiling at the same time, of course he knew this action was futile but he continued regardless, "Yeah, well the hell with you too! Believe me your divine highness, the feeling is fraggin' mutual!"
Having got that ou
TF - Prank the HatchetTitle - Prank the HatchetTF - Prank the Hatchet7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Requested by - Starscream225647
Fandom - Transformers
Main Characters - Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Ratchet
Rating - Kid, Teen
Word Count - 1,231
Sideswipe smiled, standing back to make sure their work was completed. He gave his brother an even brighter grin, for which Sunstreaker just sighed silently and shook his head.
Ratchet woke up minutes before his shifted started, stretching stiffness out of his gears as he walked out of his room and into the hall. He paused, glancing up and down the hallway why did it seem so quiet? He knew it was early in the morning, but something just seemed off.
Maybe it was just paranoia, but he knew something was going on. The CMO shook his head and walked up to the medbay doors entering the code and stepping through as they hissed open. The lights came on, revealing his medbay in a flash of light that his optics took a moment to adjust to. His daily routine
For want of a lab ratFor want of a lab-ratFor want of a lab rat8 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
First Aid looked up in mild surprise as his mentor almost pounced on the stack of fresh supplies and tugged one box free from the pile. What is it boss? He queried absently, most of his attention devoted to eradicating a particularly obstinate stain on his favourite socket wrench. It looked like ground-in dried energon but it was far too tough for that.
A new tool from Cybertron. Was the answer. I ordered this frigging thing months ago.
Oh? Aid set down the rag and decided the stain had to be rust or something, directing the low-level surgical laser in his right pinkie at it in an attempt to abrade the thing out. What is it?
Cranial and thorasic neuro-stimulus monitor. Came the reply. In the background Aid could hear the sound of packing material meeting a swift, merciful death at his mentors hands. Absolutely top of the line, ultra-sensitive and de