Transformers: Of Bots and Men

Processor Over Matter

"Ironhide, escort Massacre and Ratchet to the medical bay." He requested. "Preceptor, Wheeljack, your expertise may help to solve this mystery sooner rather than later."

Ironhide pulled the cuffs off his hip once more, quickly cuffing Massacre's hands in front of her and hauling her to her feet. The bots in the room parted ranks as he led her away, Ratchet and the two scientists right on his tailpipe.

"Optimus, are you certain about this." Jazz asked. "I know you trust Ratchet, but this is Massacre we're talking about.

"Starscream called Massacre virus-ridden." Optimus remembered. "It's likely he was speaking of Ratchet's organic friend, and if that is true, then I owe it to Ratchet to give him a chance to aid her."

"If you say so Prime." Jazz relented.

"Besides, if Ratchet's organic friend is now in control, then Massacre may no longer be one of our most feared enemies. In fact, I believe she may become one of our greatest assets."

...

Ironhide waited outside of Ratchet's medical lab, allowing the four bots some privacy. Massacre looked around, a small smile on her faceplate.

"It's definitely different from CORD." she commented as she was placed against an operating table.

"CORD was a scientific laboratory." Ratchet reminded her, activating a set of emergency restraints on the table to seal her to it. "This is a medical lab. Two different functions, two different layouts."

"Right, makes sense." she allowed, testing her restraints a bit.

"Sorry about these." Ratchet apologized as he removed the cuffs on her wrists, moving them into the proper position on the table.

"Ratchet, I've seen the vids of what Massacre has done to the Autobots." She replied. "You'd be stupid not to take precautions."

Preceptor approached the table, loosening a panel on the side of Massacre's head while Wheeljack grabbed some wires from a machine.

"We'll need to take a peek in your processor to see exactly what's happened to you." he told her as he inserted the wires. "It won't hurt, promise."

"Like that time you promised me it wouldn't hurt when you tried to fix my leg when I fell off the top of my cave?" Massacre questioned, raising a metallic eyebrow.

Wheeljack paused as Preceptor chuckled, visibly relaxing at the mention of the incident. It was one only the organic could have known about, and it helped to confirm that the bot in front of them was truly housing their organic friend.

"I'm sure this time will be much different." Preceptor assured her.

"He's right." Ratchet agreed, attaching two large tubes to Massacre's chest plate. "For this to work, I need to induce stasis."

"You'll power down for a few kliks while we see what's going on in your processor." Preceptor informed her.

Massacre looked over at Ratchet, who was standing over the controls to the stasis machine. He looked over at her, giving her a patient smile.

"Alright, do it." Massacre declared.

Ratchet flipped on the machine, watching as Massacre's optic sensors closed as she entered stasis mode. He moved back to the first machine, bringing up several life signals on a holographic screen. He tapped on one, bringing up what appeared to be an image of Massacre's processor. Ratchet examined it closely, Preceptor and Wheeljack coming up behind him.

"What're we looking at, Ratch?" Wheeljack questioned.

"You see this mass of coding here?" Ratchet asked, pointing to a seemingly random splotch of green code practically covering the processor. "I believe that this is the organic's consciousness, reduced to Cybertronian coding after the infusion process."