TRANSFORMERS: "RESOLUTION"
Disclaimer: The characters belong to their respective owners; no money gained, only fun.
It was dark.
Again.
Jazz hated darkness; hed had enough of it recently. This pitch black Pit could drive a mech crazy.
One thought pierced the void suddenly, startling the Autobot.
Rita!
Bee? he called for his partner.
But the oblivious darkness muffled and absorbed his call.
What the slag?
Ratch?
The result was the same.
Optimus?
Silence.
Then he heard it the buzzing sound of charging batteries. Almost instantly the Cybertronian symbols appeared in his view:
Emergency Power Supply: on
Primary Power Supply: on
Central Processor: fully operational
Telemetry System: activated
Sensory System: activated
Visual and Audio Receptors: activated
A rush of information announced the silver Autobots come back from offline mode. Jazz made a quick scan of his systems and of the surrounding world. There was no danger, and nothing was wrong or strange at the parking lot around him. Jazz saw Bumblebees yellow form parked several yards from him. The presence of the scout was soothing, it gave Jazz hope that his partner was with Rita, helping the girl. And where the slag is Ratchet?
Communications Frequencies Range Scan: 5%... 10%... 15%...
Private Communications Channel activation in: 20 seconds 19 18
Thats why he couldnt get response from any of his comrades.
He didnt have time to wait.
One of the most irritating thing about using holo-projector was the fact that the holo-form could be activated only in direct proximity from the projector. So the only way to get into the building for Jazz would be to activate his holo in the drivers seat and then make his way to the fifth floor where Ritas room was situated.
Jazzs human form appeared behind the Pontiacs steering wheel, left the car in a hurry and practically flew to the front doors of the Paradise Hotel. Once in the hall, he slowed down to a fast walk so as not to attract unwanted attention to himself. However, his arrival wasnt unnoticed. A young woman in a uniform at the reception opened her mouth to stop him, but Jazz gave her a wink and a heart-melting smile, effectively leaving her speechless. That was sorta reward for spendin eons on makin a good holo. As soon as he reached the stairs and was out of her sight he once again started running. In a spark-pulse he was near Ritas room. He turned the metallic knob and entered.
The image that greeted Jazz took only a second to imprint itself in his memory forever, gaining first place in the folder Strange Things About Earth within a second. Rita was lying on the floor near the bed, still unconscious and covered with a towel from the waist down. Bumblebees holo-form was kneeling beside the girls slender hips, his hands on her bare chest a picture that would have disturbed him had it not been Bumblebee.
Jazzs eyes went wide when Bee held Ritas nose with two of his fingers, then pressed his lips firmly to her mouth holding her chin with another hand and breathed out. A second later the blonde put his hands on the center of the girls upper chest again and pressed forcefully four times.
What the slag re ya doin?! Jazz gasped in horror, shutting the door behind him and dashing to his partner.
Back off, Jazz, usually easy-going Bumblebee barked back at him, leaning to Ritas mouth again and making four breaths this time. His tone meant no jokes, weve got trouble in any language of the Universe. Im trying to save her life following Ratchets instructions, he said, pressing down on her chest with his hands again.
Jazz knelt beside Rita opposite from Bumblebee and looked at the girls face. Her eyes were closed, she was unresponsive. He threw a worried glance around the room, taking a moment to assess the situation. He could see a wet trail of water that went from the bathroom to the spot where she was laying, and it pretty much gave him an insight on what exactly had happened while his CPU was out.
Ritas signal appeared on my radar when you had gone offline, Bumblebee started explaining quickly. And Ratchet intercepted it as well. He assumed it to be the reason of your overload and sent me the codes to dim it down a bit so that you could reboot. The blonde gave Rita another breath, to no avail. Her blood pressure jumped, thats why she had a hemorrhage from her nose. Shes unconscious and not breathing, Im trying to get her online again. Ratch is in five minutes from here.
Bee was nervous and frightened for a human life in his hands. Jazz could understand why: Bumblebee wasnt a medic, he just blindly followed the instructions; he wasnt used to such responsibility and was afraid of doing something wrong.
Come on come on, the blonde whimpered in despair. Jazz could only sit back on his heels in a wordless dismay and watch. The girls wet hair seemed almost raven, her skin was unnaturally pale, and that made the little red cut on her throat even more noticeable and out of place. She looked like a doll, a beautiful, fragile doll that was broken in more than one way.
A quick web-search provided Jazz with the basic information on human heart and brain peculiarities.
How long? he asked Bumblebee in a tight voice.
Two minutes thirty five seconds.
Energon froze in Jazzs circuits. Just a little longer and shell be lost or damaged beyond repair.
Ratchet, man, yad better hurry, Jazz sent through his intercom that was working again.
Report your status, lieutenant, he heard the medics tone of voice, and Jazz had no other options but to respond in the same manner.
Lieutenant Jazz, status stable, fully functional. Its Rita who needs ya, Ratch, not me.
Im doing my best, Jazz.
Please, Rita, the silver bot pleaded with his charge silently.
Didnt he promise her that she would be safe? She called for him when shed sensed the danger. But all he could do was sit here beside her while Bumblebee was trying to bring her back to life.
He felt useless, despite all his attempts to prove the opposite since his revival.
Jazz scanned Rita. Her heart was just a faint whisper. It seemed almost like she wasnt really there. Did he himself look like that after the battle for the Allspark? Like an empty shell
Dont die on me, girl, he muttered under his breath, his hand running through his ruffled short hair.
Bee breathed into Ritas mouth again, and then thank Matrix! her green eyes flew open, mouth swallowing the much needed air on its own; but the intake was cut short by a fit of violent coughs that shook her entire frame. Bumblebee shot up to one knee immediately, giving her space and turning her to her stomach so that any remaining liquid could leave her lungs. Rita leaned onto her trembling hands, pulling her legs under herself. Bees free hand grabbed the sheet from the bed by the corner and draped it over Ritas nakedness. Jazz felt gratitude to his partner for that, though he didnt know where it had come from.
Ratchet, shes come to her senses, heart functional, breathing ragged, but returning to normal, Bumblebee reported to the CMO, relief evident on the scouts human face.
Good job, Bumblebee. Ill be there in two minutes, the medic replied to the both Autobots, and Jazz could swear hed heard the same relief in Ratchets voice that the two of them felt at the moment.
Rita was sitting on the wet floor now, clutching at the soaked sheet that was wrapped around her trembling body.
Breathe, Rita, breathe Thats it, Jazz spoke to her in a soothing voice, regretting his inability to support her with his hands. Rita looked at him. Her gaze was slightly dazed and still held a tinge of fear, but she was calming down bit by bit. Ya scared me there, yknow, the ever present smile was returning to Jazzs lips, though a bit half-hearted.
Ritas eyes shifted silently to the blond young man on her other side, and Jazz took it as his cue to introduce them to each other. This is ma partner, Bumblebee. Hes an Autobot, juz like myself. He saved yer life.
Bumblebee gave the girl a friendly smile that lit up his young face. Nice to meet you, Miss Grace, he said.
She answered him with a long stare, and then nodded. It- Its Rita. Her voice was quiet and raspy, and she cleared her throat. Apparently she preferred to be called by her first name, no matter who she was talking with. Jazz decided that he liked that. After all, his own species were doing fine without second names and he never could understand why humans needed them at all.
We gotta dry ya up a bit before Ratchet arrives, Jazz said, looking around. Bee, could ya bring some towels?
Bumblebee nodded, understanding that Jazz couldnt do it himself, and went to the bathroom in search of the needed items.
Rita brushed her nose with her palm and looked at her fingers as if checking whether she was still bleeding. Thankfully, the bleeding has stopped, and she looked at Jazz again. Whos Ratchet? the girl asked uncertainly.
Our medical officer. There was no point in holding back the information from her. She would find it all out soon anyway.
Hes a robot, too?
Yeah, Jazz confirmed.
How many of you guys are out there? She asked quietly.
Ya mean Autobots? Five with maself.
It was a rhetorical question, Jazz, she shook her head.
Jazz chuckled. Howre ya feelin? He asked trying to scan her, but not succeeding very much, since he wasnt a medic and didnt know what to look for. Her exterior seemed to be normal though, if a bit shaken and wet.
Like I almost drowned in an embarrassingly small puddle of water, Rita gave a tired humorless laugh. What a pathetic and stupid way to die, isnt it?
Absolutely, Jazz drawled with a half-smile, and then became serious again. Rita, what was that all about?
The girls shoulders visibly drooped, making her seem even smaller; she wrapped the sheets around herself tighter as if trying to hide in them. Its the first time its happened twice in one day, she whispered. And it dawned at Jazz what she meant when shed told him about her strange disease.
There was a heavy silence between them. She was staring at the floor near her bare feet, deep in her own thoughts, and he was staring at her, not really knowing what to say. He could tell her that everythings gonna be fine, but he wasnt so sure about it anymore, and he didnt want to lie to her.
The silence was interrupted by Bumblebee emerging from the bathroom with a dry towel and clean clothes that had been abandoned there.
Thank you Bumblebee, Rita said, pausing a little before saying the blondes name. Jazz knew she was thanking him not only for the clothes, but also for her life. Bees smile indicated that hed felt it, too.
You are welcome, the blonde replied, his electric-blue eyes reflecting joy.
Rita took the clothes from him and looked at Jazz and Bee. Uh guys? she started. Would you mind turning away for a minute? She lifted her brow.
Oh, they said in unison and turned around, giving Rita some privacy. Jazz felt stupid, though he wouldnt confess it even under a torture.
It was a minute later when someone knocked on the door. Rita stopped in the middle of buttoning and zipping her jeans and looked with worry in the direction of the sound. Jazz made a silent gesture to Bumblebee, and they both took place on the two sides of the entrance before the dark-skinned Autobot turned the knob and opened the door.
Ratchet didnt even say hi as he let himself inside without hesitation, and honestly Jazz didnt expect him to. The medic got all business-like and straight-to-the-point when his professional abilities were required. And he was the leader in such moments; even Optimus didnt dare to question his decisions. Hmm, maybe I should make medicine ma second profile?
Jazz looked Ratchets holo-form over with interest it was the first time he had seen the medic using it. His human body was bigger and taller than Jazzs, well-built and somewhere in its late thirties, or early forties; he had short brown hair, stylishly combed, with traces of silver on his temples; gray careful eyes that looked straightforward at everything around him; and two-days worth of stubble along his chin and jaw line. Not bad. It suited the medic who was always in the process of doing something vitally important and urgent. Add to it the medical outfit that humans usually wore and the air of authority that always accompanied his presence and you have a good picture of Ratchet-the-Mad-Repairman.
Rita momentarily tensed seeing the newcomer that was moving towards her with quick confident strides. She looked at Jazz questioningly.
Rita, this is Ratchet, Jazz introduced his comrade to the girl. I told ya, hes our medic. He needs ta run a little check on ya, he added.
Ritas gaze moved to Ratchet, and the medic gave her a curt nod. My pleasure to meet with you, Miss Grace, he said in a calm, polite tone.
The girl opened her mouth, and Jazz could bet she was going to correct Ratchet in regards of her name. But the medic silenced whatever she was going to say by laying one hand on Ritas forehead gently to tilt her head back slightly and take a look at the little cut on her throat. Ratchets brows creased, he hmm-ed quietly.
Whats that mean, Doc? Jazz asked through the intercom.
I am not sure yet, the medic answered, then took a little flash-light from his pocket and directed a thin ray of light into Ritas eyes, still holding her head with one palm.
Everyone waited. Ratchet ran several different scans on his speechless patient, then produced another concerned hmm and wrapped one hand around his midsection, the other hand supporting his chin in a tell-tale gesture of deep contemplation. Three pairs of eyes looked at him, the same silent question in each.
We have to deliver her to our med labs, was the medical officers verdict. I need my equipment to run some tests. Until then I cannot come to any conclusions.
Rita suddenly snapped out from her muted state. Tests? she squeaked and furrowed her brows angrily at Ratchet. Im not some kind of a lab rat for alien experiments, mister!
Rita, no ones gonna getcha into experiments here, Jazz assured her, stepping closer to the two. Docs juz gonna try ta fix that problem of yours, thats all.
Jazz is right, Ms. Grace, Ratchet confirmed. Our only intention towards you would be to move you to a safe place and make a thorough medical research, so that we can find the cause or causes of your mysterious disease and eliminate them.
By the look on Ritas face Jazz could tell she didnt like the term eliminate.
Hey Doc, watch yer words here, yer scarin er, he sent through the com link.
Then he addressed Rita. He talks funny, but he means no harm. I trust im with ma life, so ya can trust im, too.
How generous of you, Jazz, Ratchet snorted, showing a kind doctor smile to the girl at the same time. It was all Jazz could do not to laugh at that.
Ritas eyes were shifting from her bodyguard to the medic and back. She was obviously considering her options. Okay, she finally said, carefully and quietly. But on one condition. Ive got to play a show today, and I will do it, no matter what.
She was getting nervous again, and Jazz wondered why she got like that every time she talked about the show.
It is scheduled to 10 pm at Jet Club, am I correct? Ratchet asked after a little pause.
Yes, you are correct, Rita eyed the medic warily.
You will be escorted there by Jazz, so there is nothing for you to worry about, Rita, Ratchet assured her.
The girl nodded. Fine, then you can take me to that safe place of yours. She turned away from them and wandered to the mirror drying her hair with a towel on her way.
Yer kiddin, right? Jazz asked Ratchet through the intercom.
Why would I do that, lieutenant? The medic replied.
Its not safe for her ta be anywhere near the city right now, let alone get onstage.
And what do you suggest? It was her condition. We cant just take her with us against her will; it would be a violation of all the protocols regarding humans we have.
I still dont like the idea, Doc.
We shall see if it can be avoided. But if it is what I think it is then I am ready to take all risks possible. Ratchet answered firmly; it looked like their conversation on this topic was closed. What was he talking about? Jazz had very uncomfortable feeling it was something very serious. He just hoped it wouldnt take lives of those he wanted to protect
This thought reminded Jazz that he needed Ratchets help with a little problem he had.
Err Since we got some time here, I need ya ta fix ma holo-projector, Ratch. Im fed up with Bee havin ta back me up all the time. I cant look out for the girl if I aint really here. It nearly killed er the last time.
Ratchets brows furrowed, he captiously studied Jazzs hologram. You have a point here, lieutenant. We shall have to turn our holo-projectors off and move around back of the hotel where no one will be able to see us.
Bee, yer in charge here, Jazz turned to the blonde young man. He chose a vocal form of communication so that Rita could hear them, too. Doc an I got some business ta do outside. Help Rita pack and get er down ta the parkin lot. Well be there.
Bumblebee nodded in acknowledgement.
Before letting his hologram dissolve Jazz met Ritas surprised and devastated gaze directed at him. He hated to scare her, but he didnt want to lose any time.
The silver Pontiac Solstice and the lime-green Hummer H2 left the parking lot and slowly made their way around back, under a group of tall trees with rich crowns that gave enough shadow to hide the two Autobots in the darkness of the night.
Having his holo-projector being repaired proved to be a fast, but painful experience. Ratchets laser calibrated Jazzs sensory system and connected it to the nervous system of his future holo-form.
I cant turn your nerve receptors off, Jazz. I need to see that the connection is being established the right way.
I aint askin ya ta, Doc, Jazz answered in mild surprise.
Then stop squirming, its a delicate work, the medic told him sternly.
Oh
Sorry.
Several seconds later Ratchet folded his laser back into his hand. Try it, he said.
Jazz transformed into his vehicle-form and tentatively activated his holo-projector. As his human self left the car he could feel the cool air on his skin and in his hair. Temperature, humidity, the caress of the wind everything. He bent to the ground and picked up a stone of a medium size that perfectly fit into his palm. His eyes searched around and stopped on the dumpster about five yards away from where he and Ratchet were settled. He raised his hand and threw the stone; the projectile drew a graceful arc in the air and landed accurately in the middle of the dumpster, the sound of its fall muffled by the garbage that had already been in there.
Three-pointer, Jazz smirked mischievously, a smug look on his face.
Show off, Ratchet snorted, but Jazz knew that the medic was satisfied with his work on his holo-projector.
The peace of the moment was ruined by the signal of warning that Jazz got on his radar. It could only be caused by the Decepticons appearance in the area