Transformers Prime: Result of Impact

Ch. 34

Ratchet needed energon.

A lot.

He had been so very patient in the soldiers and the scientists, letting them poke and prod and giving them the information they needed, but his desperation was growing, more and more. He needed to refuel, badly. Primus, he needed to escape. How long would it be before Optimus and the others found him? He could only hope for a short wait... 

Ratchet himself was searching for ways that they'd be able to find him; there weren't many. He came up with a few, but none of them seemed realistic enough to work out. Perhaps Optimus would find a way that he hadn't yet found... The thought was only a hope, not enough to be an expectation. Unfortunately.

So, he'd have to get energon out of Silas somehow; waiting until after he was rescued to refuel would be risky to his systems.

Almost worth it.

"Sir, it's a quarter to twelve. Should we switch out for the night shift?" Ratchet listened to one of the soldiers speak up to Silas; he'd noticed them slowing down a bit and growing tired as night came along. Of course, replacements would always step in as they took their break, and Ratchet would have to put up with it. It had been days since he had recharged...

"Go ahead. Relay what you've been working on before you leave." Silas nodded curtly, turning and pacing back in front of the monitors. The soldiers quickly left their positions, providing Ratchet with a moment of relief. He relaxed for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling, preparing himself for the conversation he was about to have... Primus, this had to work out...

"Silas?" He asked hesitantly, and as passively as he could. The human cast him an unfriendly stare. "Do you have a moment to discuss regular Cybertronian nourishment?"

That caught Silas' attention. "What do you mean?"

Here we go.

Ratchet inhaled deeply. "Energon... You've heard of it, haven't you? Having learned so much from taking apart Breakdown, you had to have come across it."

"We are aware of it, yes," he nodded in understanding. "A Decepticon provided us with that information, when we possessed the T-Cog from one of your fellow Autobots."

I'll bet my spark it was Starscream, being the floater he is. Ratchet continued, "Did he inform you of how often Cybertronians need to refuel themselves with it? Or what happens when a 'bot fails to refuel over a certain amount of time?"

He received a suspicious look for that. "No."

"Ah... Of course, he didn't." The medic sighed heavily. "My point is, it has been a few days since I have refueled, and having lost energon from..." He glanced down at the poorly welded gash above his T-Cog. "...The incision your soldier made, my condition has began to worsen, and it's only a matter of time before my systems begin to fail... and then, I will be of no use to you."

"You are mistaken," Silas raised an eyebrow, leaning his forearms against the railing with his hands clasped. Ratchet narrowed his optics, disliking the sound of that. "If you perish, your body and every function in it is still ours, still just as useful. You overestimate your ability to provide us with intel verbally. It will not save you."

Ratchet set his jaw. "And you think you can unlock every code by taking me apart? Your scientists can not rely on themselves to figure out alien biology, the mistakes made will mislead you and cloud your understanding even more, you cannot possibly think you can master Cybertronians by dismantling me. From what I've seen of the extent of your knowledge, what you learned from doing so to Breakdown wasn't worth it, you still barely have a grasp!" He countered, his original idea of approaching Silas passively forgotten; now he spoke firmly and dangerously confident.

Anger was practically rolling off of Silas visibly. He straightened up, trying to look taller (which didn't make any difference to Ratchet), and glared furiously. "I don't like your tone," he growled. "M.E.C.H. doesn't make mistakes. You won't address me in such a manner again, or I will have to enforce consequences." Ratchet huffed, hating being spoken down to by this little... abomination of a human...

Silas turned to go, and the medic bit down his anger, reminding himself of the goal. "Silas, I need energon." He pushed out helplessly.

"I understood that the first time you said it." Silas only continued in striding towards a door the monitors.

Desperation slipped into Ratchet's voice, which was utterly dreadful to him, but he couldn't afford to falter then. "I can help you locate it... It will be an adequate subject for your research, and will keep me alive enough for you to get all the intel you need." He insisted. "I won't live long in the condition you have me in... And I am a better source then whatever else you have as a backup plan. I've given you more information than all of your other sources combined, you've learned everything accurately this way... Can you afford to lose that?" 

Silas turned around and stared at him. "Once again, you wildly overestimate your expertise to us."

"Do I?" Ratchet pushed.

Their gazes burned into one another dangerously for a few moments, before Silas turned and exited through the door. Ratchet fell back against the floor with a harsh sigh. Headstrong humans... perhaps Silas would come to his senses. Perhaps he wouldn't be starved of energon until death...

Perhaps.

Maybe.

Scrap.