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Orion ran down the halls of the Academy dormitory. He passed many mechs and femme alike, still waiting to find the mech he was looking for. He wasn’t a student, but he knew someone.
Orion Pax was one of many archivists on Cybertron. He was a traveller, and was frequently in many places. His friend Ratchet, who he had known since he was a sparkling, wanted to become an engineer. Ratchet had no job. He remained unemployed for a long majority of his life, So it was one of his many reasons of being friends with Orion. The two of them spent a majority of their time having conversations and going out for a walk.
Upon reaching Ratchet’s room, he knocked and smiled. Ratchet opened the door and smiled tiredly. Obviously, he had spent another night studying for his exams.
“Ratchet!” Orion beamed and swept Ratchet off his feet. “It’s been a long time!”
“It’s been at least a few breems since we met up before my trip to Praxus.” Ratchet said, patting Orion on his back.
“That’s long!” Orion chuckled before shifting into a more sterner tone. His eyes gently dimming. “We haven’t talked in so long.”
“Didn’t you get to see your friend in Kaon?!” Ratchet scolded. “You weren’t alone!”
“Megatronus isn’t fun!” Orion complained. “All we do most o the time is spread propaganda!”
“Just let me go already! Maybe then we can talk!”
Orion let go of Ratchet hastily, before entering the room. Ratchet had a share dorm because of his low budget. He didn’t have enough Shanix for a private one, but was luckily was with other mecha they both knew. Three berths were neatly in each corner except for the one with a desk. A shelf was in between two berths on the left hand side. One Berth was considerably messy, most likely Jazz’s. The next was covered in datapads, Ratchet’s. And the last one was neat, but had a blaster on top. Definitely Ironhide’s.
“Jazz! Good to see you!” Orion high-fived the blue and black mech.
“Howzit’ goin’ mech!” Jazz cackled.
“Ironhide!” He arm wrestled the orange mech and promptly lost, his arm stopping as if against thin air. “Aaannd you still beat me.”
“Hah! You’ll never win!” Ironhide joked, laughing. “Anyway, why did you want to come ‘round?
“…I wanted to see you guys! It’s been a long time!” Orion cheered. He also coughed once or twice into his arm. “How are your courses going!”
“Great.” Ratchet muttered, flicking through a datapad. “The Advanced Science course will allow me to be an Engineer if I get good marks.”
“At least you’re getting some good out of it.” Ironhide scoffed, grabbing the blaster off his berth. “We had to make a blaster. Mine was perfect. Shoot up to ten meters away. On the day to showcase it, it malfunctioned and I got a bad mark.”
“Bullscrap!” Ratchet yelled. “Yours was tampered with! It’s obvious!”
“I dunno mech. It looks fine!” Jazz chided, going up to Ironhide. “My mark wuz decent. I got just above the average.”
“Great to hear!” Orion chided.
“Anyway, I got some snacks. You want some?” Ironhide threw over snack sized energon cubes. The kind with the pink and blue ones. “I bought a ton.”
Ratchet and Jazz both went over and took at least a a quarter each. Ironhide taking a few.
“Pax?” Ratchet held out a cube to the archivist.
“No, I’m fine! I ate a couple kilks before I came!”
“…You don’t refuel in the morning.” Ratchet said, getting up and looking in Orion’s optics. “You’re lying.”
Jazz gasped dramatically and pretended to faint. Ironhide just watched Jazz do so with a straight face.
“Okay maybe I lied. But I’m fine! I’m not hungry!” Orion explained sheepishly, moving some datapads from Ratchet’s berth to sit on it.
“I’m not a medic, and I’m not trying to be, but I can tell you’re severely underweight.” Ratchet poked Orion’s chassis a couple times before he was shoved back. “Not only that, but you’re severely tired.”
“Okay, so you’re just going to put that out there.” He muttered, pressed up against the wall after being obnoxiously pushed by Ratchet.
“I knew a mech. He did the exact same thing. Breems later, I got him to see a medic and he was diagnosed with an Eating Disorder.” Ratchet’s voice started to shake. “And I don’t want that to happen to you. See a medic.”
Orion just looked into Ratchet’s optics, expecting to see anger. Instead, sadness and compassion littered them. He did care. They were friends after all. Maybe even more.
“Hey. I’m not going to be that bad, Promise.” Orion sighed and extended his hand, stepping towards Ratchet and off the wall. “Do you want to go out to the gardens in the outskirts?”
He looked up.
“That would be nice.”
“Im staying.” Ironhide stood up, hands on hips. “Jazz pretended to faint, and in your little rant he fell asleep. I better watch over him when he wakes up or he’ll attempt to take the model of the Kaonian Pits from the lecture hall again like the last time he was unsupervised.”
Ratchet sighed and pinched between his optics. Orion just giggled and coughed again. He recounted Jazz having a high probability of doing something incredibly dumb while Unsupervised. Once, yes he tried to steal the model of the Kaon Pits. Another occasion, Him and a close friend, Prowl, had a bright idea it would be fun idea to start a bar fight and move it out to the middle of the road. He was also known for not caring about personal space and deleted Ratchet’s study notes to use for writing a Crack fic. Something about Cybertronians and Aliens finding out Unicron was the core of a planet and his blood was Crack.
Orion was pretty sure he hid it somewhere in the Hall of Records and wasn’t able to find it. If Alpha Trion found it and figured who wrote it, Jazz would never live to see another Cycle.
“Seriously. I recommend you go.” Ironhide turned and picked Jazz up to but him lying down on his berth.
“Okay!” Ratchet opened the door and went to leave, Orion quickly ducking out.
“Have fun.”
—0—
Ratchet and Orion walked down the pathway in the garden, shining crystal flowers on either side of them. The location was incredible, as it was in a flower field so substantial that no buildings could be seen easily from the heart of it. It was rather quiet compared to how it normally was with people everywhere with sparklings begging to go home. There was a strict no littering rule, and despite it people littered in all the gardens.
“So…” Orion mumbled, clicking his glossa.
“How’s it hummin?” Ratchet asked lazily.
“I’m sorry, what?” He looked over, hurting his spine from the speed. Weird. He never experienced something like that. “I’m okay?”
“NEVERMIND.” Ratchet looked away seeming very flustered.
The awkward tension filled the air again. The two of them just walking and admiring the plants.
“Oh! That’s a Coppeliarus Chrysanthemum.”
“A what?” Ratchet looked over.
“A rare flower that normally only blooms in Polyhex.” He bent down to adore the plant. He brushed a petal with his digit. “It’s known for being the only flower suitable for spreading a pollen that boosts all your stats.”
The petals of the flower was tough, yet delicate. As it brushed against the other petals and Orion’s digit, it made a gentle clinking noise. It was beautiful. Ratchet just saw it as a distraction for the walk.
“You sound like a gamer.” Ratchet pulled up the mech. “Let’s move.”
As Orion looked back, he saw the flower going in the light one last time. Pain shot through his frame suddenly as he took his first step, and he winced and almost fell back as if he was swept back by a gust of wind.
“Holy Frag! Primus are you alright?” Ratchet threw Orion’s arm over his shoulder.
“Yeah, ow.” Orion rubbed his leg. He attempted to make a step forwards but the pain returned. “Scrap! I think I twisted my ankle.”
Ratchet groaned. “There’s a bench coming up as we reach the center of the gardens. We can sit there for a while.”
“Yeah, sure.” Orion mumbled and wobbled along. “That hurt like the fragging pits.”
Orion sat down on the bench, lifting his leg to look at his ankle. It seemed swollen . Some of the wires were twisted. Luckily, none were a fuel line, but it was still painful.
“Primus.” Ratchet sighed.
“I should’ve been more careful.” Orion griped, resting it gently on the ground. “I deserved it.”
Orion chuckled. Ratchet did not know the implication. The night before he anonymously mailed Magnus, a mech he treated like a brother, mail designed to explode with confetti when it opened. Magnus sent an angry letter back.
“Hey Rat-attack? While we’re here can I voice some complaints?” He glanced over to Ratchet, who was looking at birds flying overhead. Typical Ratchet.
“Fine. I don’t have much else to do.” Ratchet sighed. “Yes?”
“Okay.” He lay back on the seat. “Recently, I’ve been experiencing things. Weird medical things that have never happened in a while.”
“When did it start?” Ratchet rolled his optics.
“I don’t know… maybe a couple few vorns ago?” Orion shrugged.
“Vorns?!” Ratchet sprung forward so far he almost fell of the seat. “Why didn’t you see a medic or something?! Tell Alpha Trion?!”
“Because, If I told Trion, he would lecture me for letting my guard down and making myself get sick in the first place! And then take me to the hospital every five cycles.” Orion nagged. “And if I went to to see a medic, they would charge me with a lot. I hate hospitals, sometimes it’s the last place a mech would ever go. You don’t know if you’ll go home or see your family again. And normally it’s not a good reason you’re in a hospital. Alpha Trion handles all the bills and stuff, so he would find out eventually! I don’t have enough shanix to actually pay those ludicrous amounts!”
“Because you spend it all!” Ratchet blurted. “We went to that comic con a vorn ago, and you spent all the shanix you had! You bought twelve datapads! And you even bought a plush!”
“That Prima plush was limited edition and official in my defence!” Orion snarked, facing away. “Primus, we’re bickering like femmes. Hey- We’re off topic!”
“Yeah. Continue.” Ratchet sighed.
“Anyway, Chest pain has been quite frequent for a while. I’ve also been coughing a lot too.” Orion though, remembering when he coughed in Ratchet’s dorm. “Influenza?”
“Wouldn’t last that long.” Ratchet added extra emphasis when he said ‘that’.
“Well, I’m a bit worried. Do you think I should see a medic?” Orion contemplated. “Maybe I should tell Alpha Trion now.”
“Of course?!” Ratchet snapped. He stood up. “Come on, take my servo. We’re going.”
“Fine.”
Orion slowly stood up, careful of his ankle. He gently wrapped his arm around Ratchet’s neck cabling. His arm around Orion’s waist. They walked away slowly.
“Hey Rat-Attack? Can we just stop for a moment?” Orion put his spare servo to his helm, dizzy. “I’m not feeling quiet well.”
“We only walked a few meters.” Ratchet held onto Orion. “Are you sure it’s nothing that bad?”
“Yeah I’m sure…” Orion‘s speech slowed and he began to cough constantly.
“Hey Hunter?” He shook Orion a couple times. “Orion? Hey, are you okay! Are you fine! Frag.”
Orion dropped onto his knees. Obviously hurting his ankle again and hopefully not breaking it. His throat began to become tired, and as he stopped coughing, he was gasping. He attempted to open his vents, and failing.
“Orion!”
Neither realised, but Orion had energon trickling from his intake, and dripping onto the dirt. He wiped his intake to finally realise. He was bleeding, he knew because he hadn’t refuelled and wouldn’t throw up. Unlike normal Energon from his tank, it was glowing. The Energon from his lines. Orion was a wreck. He was incredibly dizzy and tired. He fell unconscious in shock.
“Primus! Anyone a medic! Please!”
—0—
Chase was a medic under the well known Doctor Jackknife. So far, he was doing well. He was taking a break from one of many of Jackknife’s lectures about how cybertronians are idiots. Jackknife could be quite offensive sometimes to flyers like the other trainee Skydiver.
His break lasted for a few hours, so he managed to drive to the outskirts to the gardens. Green and gold plating contrasted against the many pastel colours. The gardens were a beautiful place to him, and the center shone like diamonds in midday. In his optics, it was stunning and he often came to read. Disturbances weren’t normal but that day was an exception.
It was calm. But unusually quiet like after a war. Many people he encountered were actually heading back from the center of the gardens. He was still wearing his ID as well. That’s how he got noticed by a femme.
“Hey! You there!” A green femme ran up to Chase, and she had pale colours and bright yellow eyes. “Are you a doctor? Please tell me you are!”
“Yes. What’s the problem?” Chase answered.
“It’s a mech in the center gardens. He was with another one. He was crying for help! Something was wrong with the other mech!” She cried. “It was terrible! The mech was passed out, his eyes were dim, but still lit! There was energon! And they looked so scared! I feel terrible for leaving them behind!”
“Hey, calm down!” Chase put his hand on the femmes face and wiped away her tears. “My designation is Chase. Can you tell me yours?”
“I’m Synthesis.”
“Synthesis, Can you take me to the mech?” Chase looked straight into her optics with confidence.
Synthesis nodded. She looked to Chase as she suddenly sprinted to the core, Chase close behind. As they got closer, it became quieter, larger, and lusher. Towering trees with pink flowers and orange vines.
He managed to spot a mech. On his knees with red and white on his frame. A grounder was In his arms, a blue and red mech, gentle blue markings signifying a young age, but still an adult. . He was unconscious, but his eyes flickered on and off, occasionally drifting to Chase. It made Chase jump.
“Please! Someone Help!”
Chase turned to the femme, who was now hyperventilating.
“Synthesis, thank you. However, I need some assistance.” Chase turned back only to run towards the two mecha.
The red and white one looked up at Chase, his optics filled with coolant. He was tired and scared. Judging by his frame, he was only young. Most likely an Academy student like the other.
“Hey! Hey! Please! Tell me you’re here to help!” The red and white mech yelled, optics filled with the sadness one would only see in stained glass windows.
“Yes, My name is Dr. Chase.” Chase introduced and looked down at the mech in his arms.
“I’m Ratchet! And, this is Orion Pax! We were walking in the garden, but he felt sick and collapsed!” Ratchet stuttered. He was scared. He didn’t know what was happening.
“Alright, calm down.” He assured the young mech. “I’m here to help aren’t I? Does he have any family, or emergency contacts?”
“Alpha Trion.” Ratchet said. “I have his comm.”
‘Alpha Trion?’ Chase thought. ‘Must be an important mech.’
“Ratchet, comm Alpha Trion. I’ll deal with your friend.” Chase ordered.
Ratchet nodded and opened a comm link to Alpha Trion. Hopefully, he will understand. Chase wasn’t paying much attention but he could swear he heard yelling from Ratchet’s comm.
“Synthesis, I need help.” Chase turned. “Call Iacon Central Hospital, I work there.”
“But, That’s so far!” She stuttered. “How are you going to get there in time?”
“Trust me.” He looked back at the femme. His face displaying a fierce determination she had never seen before. He had to save this mech.
She nodded before accessing an emergency comm line. The femme wasn’t even sure what was happening. Meanwhile, Ratchet had returned from his call to the prime.
“Alpha Trion says that he has had no medical conditions in the past of his knowledge.” Ratchet informed, watching Orion closely. He was horrified. “However Orion told me he was a feral sparkling. He came from the Cybertronian Wilds in between Iacon and Kaon.”
“Well, I guess that could help.” Chase muttered.
The wilds were known for multiple diseases and unusual environments. He could’ve picked up anything, from a simple cough, to a life threatening disease. However, it would be strange for it linger for that long.
“He was coughing at my dorm in the Academy, and while we were walking he twisted his ankle joint!” Ratchet spluttered. “He hasn’t been eating much lately either!”
It wasn’t long until Synthesis finished her call.
“They said they could meet up halfway, everyone is busy.” She informed. “Possibly a couple streets away.”
“Thank you.” He replied. “You’re allowed to leave.”
“Thank you Chase.” Synthesis smiled and sprinted off. She could go.
Ratchet looked down at Orion, still unsure if what to do. Without question, Chase swept the red and blue mech onto his back.
“We’re heading to the gates, can you come?” He asked.
“Yeah, of course!” Ratchet nodded and transformed. His alt mode was sleek for increased speed, but considering his colours he could be confused for an Ambulance. The build on the other hand was not designed for a medic.
Chase had not had a alt mode designed to carry mecha, nor did Ratchet. The only option was to carry Orion in his root form. Driving in the gardens were usually prohibited unless in an emergency. This was no excuse.
Ratchet was horrified. How could be had been so foolish? He knew Orion had been horribly sick. Despite it, he shook it off and came to see all his friends. They could’ve been infected too.
Meanwhile, Chase was focused on the symptoms. Ratchet explained he coughed Energon, and he had been coughing. The Lack of refuelling. It didn’t sound contagious, but Ratchet and his friends wouldn’t know. He wanted to say he knew what the disease was, but it’s just not his sort of thing.
—0—
Alpha Trion had definitely seen his fair share of unusual and shocking things in life. Unicron, The betrayal of Megatronus Prime and the death of Solus Prime, even walking in on them- maybe he shouldn’t talk about that one. But his student Orion was such a Nosocomephobiac. How could he have gotten himself in a hospital when he was so scared of one?
Although he never met Ratchet often, who Orion always talks about, he knows he only calls in emergencies. When he was told Orion was Ill, it changed his day. Cancel all the meetings, Tell the Archivists keep working, and leave as soon as possible.
He left the Hall of Records in a rush. He ran red lights, but who cared. Not to mention he almost got pulled over by law enforcement and drove to Iacon Central. It was the closest to the gardens despite still being so far, and most advanced place in Iacon. Where else would they send him? Kaon?
The receptionists were just as shocked as Everyone else when Alpha Trion walked in like he owned the place.
“Hello, Sir!” One of the receptionists shouted, a yellow mech with blue accents. “What can we do for you!”
Alpha Trion raised an optical ridge.
“My designation, Is Alpha Trion. As you probably know.” The prime looked up and down the mech. He was young, possibly fresh out of the academy. “I believe one of my students was admitted. He goes by the designation Orion Pax.”
The red femme next to him started punching in glyphs.
“Yes. Orion Pax, an Archivist.” The femme nodded.
“I need to see him.” Alpha Trion didn’t ask. “Now.”
The femme’s posture suddenly went straight. She nodded erratically before walking off. Alpha Trion walking behind and even towering over her. They walked past many people. From doctors and medics, to trainees, and even patients. They had to go up a set of stairs. Very annoying.
They finally stopped out the front of a room. Blinds were closed. The femme nodded and left, leaving Alpha Trion. As he entered, the first thing he saw were two chairs. Both were occupied. One by Ratchet, who was recharging and snoring. The other by a Mech he could not recognise. Green and gold plating with sliver accents. He was solving a cube often used by sparklings to improve their intelligence where the goal was to make all the sides the same colour. He looked up.
“Oh. Hello there.” The mech said, putting the cube down on a table between the two chairs. Ratchet jolted but didn’t wake. “Chase. I suppose you’re Alpha Trion. Orion’s mentor and father figure.”
Alpha Trion nodded. “Yes. Where is he?” He just wanted to know Orion was safe.
“I’m here.”
Alpha Trion turned.
Orion was sitting up on a medical berth with his knees against his chassis, as if making himself look smaller. He looked paler than when he left in the morning. He was very tired from the look in his eyes like he knew he was going to die in an hour. He looked sadder, but also scared.
“Hello Alpha Trion.”
Alpha Trion sighed in relief, he wouldn’t have to lose someone close to him again. That clumsy, fun intent had faded. He rushed up to Orion’s side and put a servo against his face. He was colder than usual, But he couldn’t tell if it was just the air.
“Do you know what’s wrong?” Alpha Trion was curious. He had read about diseases, but none had symptoms like the ones he had heard.
“The lab is being held up. Normally we would get test results by next breem, but we’re looking at a deca-cycle.” Chase responded, placing his cube in his subspace.
“Could it be something you picked up on your trip to Kaon?” Alpha Trion’s tone shifted harsher. “If that mech did Something to you, you’re not going back.”
“Megatronus wouldn’t hurt me, but they said I’ll be here for a while.” He sighed. “I’m guessing the other archivists won’t miss me? I can’t blame them.”
Orion knew the others extremely well now. They won’t miss him, but they will care While others lazed around, Orion would help mecha to find a datapad or be actually productive.
“Unfortunately, they won’t.” The prime stood up and placed a datapad in front of Orion. “I will. But you have yet been needing to read this.”
“Hey, cut me some slag.” He joked, swiping in Alpha Trion’s direction and pushing the datapad away with his pede. “I’m sick.”
Orion chuckled and coughed again, spitting up the bright blue Energon again onto the floor. He stiffened, then relaxed. It wasn’t something he would do every day after all.
“Sorry,” He whispered, “Still not getting used to coughing up my own Energon. It’s a bit painful.”
Chase walked over and wiped the Energon away with a cloth.
“Biohazard. I’ll be back before you know it.”
He walked off with the energon stained fabric and nodded.
“You won’t leave me here to die, right?” Orion looked away in shame of asking. “Sometimes, this is the last place someone could ever go.”
Alpha Trion looked over and kneeled down.
“We all will offline at some point. If I do, there is nothing I could do to change that.”