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“Well, everything looks good,” First Aid says cheerily as he steps back from Ultra Magnus, wiping his hands on a rag. “Congratulations, you’ve passed your routine annual maintenance as expected. Well. Ultra Magnus has anyway. Let’s take a look at Minimus now.”
“Very well.” Ultra Magnus doesn’t very much like leaving the armor still, but he can trust the medics. He’s more used to interacting with Ratchet, but since his formal bonding to Drift he’s actually been spending some time outside the medbay. That leaves Magnus to deal with First Aid, who’s far more chipper than Ratchet ever was. Magnus obediently removes his armor and Minimus Ambus emerges.
First Aid moves to lower the little steps the medbay berth has for minibots so Minimus can climb up without the indignity of being lifted. First Aid starts the scanning process quickly. Minimus tries not to be uncomfortable being so exposed like this. At least no one else is in the medbay.
“I’ve just noticed you don’t have a faction symbol,” First Aid says conversationally as he moves the scanner down Minimus’ chassis.
“Oh. No, I never did get one for myself. The Magnus armor has an Autobot symbol and that was always sufficient,” Minimus says. First Aid hums agreement.
“It looks like it’s still the original symbol from near the beginning of the war, isn’t it?”
Minimus blinks up at him. “I...I suppose it would be. I’ve never had to replace it myself.”
“It’s certainly a pre-Hell’s Point symbol. I don’t...would you mind if I looked at it when we’re done here?” First Aid asks, almost sounding a little sheepish. “It has to be one of the oldest ones I’ve seen up close and especially in such good condition.”
“You sound like you have a special interest in faction symbols,” Minimus says, obediently turning to let First Aid run the scanner down his back. He can practically feel the awkwardness radiating off of First Aid’s field.
“Oh, I...collect them. Sort of. Autobot symbols, anyway. I’ve never really looked into the ‘Con symbols.”
“You collect them?” Minimus twists to glance over his shoulder at First Aid.
“For awhile now.” First Aid nods. “It started...well, I wasn’t supposed to talk about it but the war is over. Can’t hurt anything now. Springer asked me to look for messages from an embedded agent in wounded mechs I treated. Messages were being transmitted through shots to Autobot symbols. So after I spent so much time looking at them...I don’t know. I got interested. They were all just a little different from each other, so I started wondering why.” He still sounds embarrassed, and Minimus isn’t entirely sure what to say. He has some idea of that feeling from the times Rodimus has walked away mid-explanation about a particularly fascinating piece of legislation.
“I am available to stay after this appointment if you would like time to examine the Magnus armor’s badge.” He feels First Aid light up all the way to the edge of his field.
“Really? I would love that! I can show you my collection too. It might help to compare it to some of the variations from over the years. Oh, this will be fun!” First Aid sounds practically giddy as he looks down at the readout of his scanner. “And you look to be in perfect health. You’re all set! Unless you have any concerns?”
“No, I have no concerns at present.”
“Then I’m happy to note that you have completed your physical exam satisfactorily.” First Aid indeed does so and goes to set the datapad down on his desk.
Minimus climbs down the steps off of the berth and busies himself returning himself to the Magnus armor. By the time he’s resettled in the armor, First Aid has returned to his side and is beaming up at him.
“I don’t have any more appointments for the rest of the day, so I’m okay to leave if you are.”
“Lead the way.” Magnus gestures to the door and is gratified when First Aid laughs and starts off. Minimus was never known for his social graces, but even so it’s nice to see someone so happy just from talking to him.
Luckily, First Aid’s hab isn’t too far from the medbay and it’s the work of a moment for First Aid to key the door open and beckon Magnus inside. The actual room itself is what Magnus would consider comfortable. It’s neat, if not to exact military standards like Magnus’. Above the desk is a panel with a neat collection of Autobot badges all lined up. Magnus is pleased to see that they’re perfectly evenly spaced. First Aid seems at least as meticulous about displaying his collection as he is with his medical work.
“Sorry, I don’t have multiple chairs,” First Aid says as he closes the door. “You can sit on the berth, if you’d like.” He goes over to carefully pull the display off the wall. “I’ve lined these up chronologically, as best I could.”
“Have you referenced the Autobot Code? The regulations for the Autobot badge design have changed through the war.” Ultra Magnus does indeed carefully sit down on the edge of the berth.
“I’ve tried, but some older versions of the Code are harder for me to get hold of,” First Aid sets the whole display down on his desk. “May I see your badge?”
Ultra Magnus obediently removes his badge and hands it to First Aid, who seems to light up even more.
“Oh, it’s even older than I thought it was! This might date back to the earliest days of the war! I’ve never seen one this old, not up close anyway. And you’ve maintained it so well!” First Aid holds the badge very carefully in his cupped hands, turning it this way and that, his visor bright.
“I am not the only one who has maintained it over the course of the war,” Magnus says. He’d honestly never really considered his badge other than the obvious. Certainly it hadn’t come up in terms of its historic value. “I do have to admit, the sections of the Code pertaining to regulation of new badge design is not one that I have studied especially intensely. I do, however, have copies of every revision of the Autobot Code should you wish to review them.”
“That would be amazing!” First Aid seems to be completely beside himself with excitement.
“I can also highlight the relevant sections for you.”
“That would be even better. I have to admit, parsing all the legal talk isn’t exactly my strong suit. It’ll take me way longer that it would take you.” First Aid gently rubs his thumb over the badge, removing some invisible smudge.
“If it would be of help to you, I could try to...simplify the text. Most of the code requires a full understand of the nuance, but the measurements in question should be simpler to abbreviate.” Magnus offers. First Aid’s immediate delight ringing through his field is cue enough that he’s done something correctly.
“I would love that. I have some badges that I’m not quite sure of their age or origin--they don’t seem to match up to what I know of their previous owners.” First Aid looks down at his collection. Magnus follows his gaze.
First Aid’s collection is a rather impressive array of Autobot badges of varying shades of red. A couple even skew closer to crimson or orange. The size of the badges themselves vary based likely on the individual sizes of their original owners, but even the shape of the eyes and the exactly design of the lines isn’t near the same on many of them. More than a couple have a bullet hole directly through the right eye. Small labels written in neat script accompany each badge, though some have more information on them than others.
“What information do you have about these badges?” Magnus asks.
“Oh! I have more than what’s just on the labels. I have a whole spreadsheet. On the label I wrote down the original owner’s name, if I know it, and where I found it. Also the approximate era of creation, as closely as I can get. I have some fringe cases that I’m really not sure about, but I still tried.” First Aid looks over his collection. “Yours looks the most similar in shape to the oldest one I have, this one here.” He points at one in particular. “What do you think?”
“I am inclined to agree with you about its shape, but the color most closely matches some of your other pieces.” Magnus gestures to a couple of the other badges.
“I’ve found so far that color seems to be a less reliable indicator of age than shape,” First Aid says, tilting his head and clearly squinting a little at the indicated badges. “Since mechs get recolored, and some of them were using different paint to begin with. Plus there’s questions of how the paint has weathered and how strictly it was maintained.”
“Have you not been stripping the paint down to its original coat?” Magnus asks.
“Oh no. I don’t know. I thought about it, but I’m not sure. I feel like they’d lose something if I did that, you know? They’d lose something.” First Aid’s visor is bright in a smile. “But I like keeping them.”
Magnus considers. “I suppose I can understand that.” He looks at his own badge, still very carefully held in First Aid’s hands.
“Oh! I should--this is yours.” First Aid carefully hands him his badge back. Ultra Magnus accepts it.
“Thank you. I would be interested if you could determine the exact age of my badge. I don’t know when exactly this particular badge was created.”
For a second he thinks First Aid might have offlined. His field goes dead flat for a moment, just long enough that Magnus is starting to concerned, before it spikes back to life with a flare of excitement strong enough that Magnus would take a step back if he was standing.
“Yes! Yes, I would love to! I’ll do some research! If you can send me those bits of the previous versions of the Autobot Code I can start right away! Oh, I’m so excited! And if you can give me at least a rough history of the Magnus armor--I know the most famous battles it was in, of course, but it’s been around for so long that it’s very possible that it perhaps has some of the earlier war regional variations involved in its design!” First Aid is practically glowing. “Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!”
Magnus is trying to figure out what to say in the face of such unbridled enthusiasm when he gets a ping.
‘Are we still on to meet at Swerve’s?’ Megatron’s glyphs come through tinged with affectionate amusement and a touch of concern.
‘Yes! Yes we are! My apologies, I’ll be there momentarily!’ Magnus pings back and receives only amusement back. “First Aid, I apologize, I have to meet Megatron--I will send you the pertinent sections of the Code as well as a detailed history of my armor as soon as is feasible.”
“Oh! Of course! Take your time, it’s not that important! Thank you so much!” First Aid is still beaming as Magnus goes to leave.
“Of course,” Magnus nods to First Aid and ducks out of the room, headed to Swerve’s. Megatron is already there, having claimed the corner booth for them. Magnus slides into the booth beside him and accepts the large arm that settles around him and the soft nudge of Megatron’s field in greeting.
“Did something keep you? Rodimus didn’t get up to anything, did he?”
“Oh, I haven’t heard anything from Rodimus yet today. I’m sure I should be concerned, but for now he is distracted by something. No, I had my physical with First Aid and was rather distracted by his collection of Autobot badges.” Magnus relaxes into the comforting grip around his middle. “I promised him I would do some research into previous versions of the Autobot Code as it pertained to the regulations surrounding the Autobot Crest and its display on mechs.”
Megatron chuckles. “So I shouldn’t expect to see you very often then?”
“I can do the research from our hab,” Magnus assures him, and Megatron just shakes his head and laughs.
“I look forward to hearing all about it.”