Chapter Text
Ratchet had done a marvellous job of reattaching his arm. Apart from a thin weld line encircling his upper arm, there was no evidence of his earlier injury. Truly, his patients hadn’t been exaggerating when describing the CMO’s phenomenal skills.
After arranging a follow up appointment, Ratchet finally allowed Rung to answer the ship-wide summons from Rodimus. A quick elevator ride soon brought him to the bridge, where he joined the gathered crew.
As he slowly wove his way through the milling crowd, he noticed that many of his new crew mates were splitting off into pairs or small groups. Seeking out old friends, most likely. After the end of the War, and the recall from Cybertron itself, there were still many people unaccounted for. However, each new ship’s arrival brought with it the chance of reunion. It honestly warmed Rung’s spark to see two bots reunite after a millennia or more apart.
Rung picked out a few faces he recognised. Former colleges from Kimia and a few notable patients, but no one he considered himself particularly close to. ‘Not that I’m particularly close to anyone,’ he admitted. He was already moving to greet one of those old colleagues when a flash of blue caught his optic.
Like himself, this bot stood alone but he carried himself with a confidence Rung both admired and envied. But while the mystery bot seemed calm and collected, leaning casually against the far wall with his arms folded across his broad chest, Rung could easily see the cracks in the display. The crossed arms were an obvious defensive sign but on their on didn’t automatically raise concern. What got Rung’s full attention was the tightness around the bot’s optics, and how those same optics continuously scanned the room. Looking for someone?
He walked up the mystery bot. “Pardon me. You seem a bit lost. Are you looking for someone?”
The stranger smiled, wryly. “That’s one way of putting it.” He held out his hand, “I’m Skids. Theoretician.”
Rung took the offered hand and silently marvelled at the gentle strength of Skids’ grip. “Rung. Ship’s Psychiatrist.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Rung.” Skids smiled warmly but his expression quickly shifted to something Rung could only describe as shy. “Hey, I know this is gonna sound a bit strange but what’s going on, exactly? Not right this second, I mean. Just in general…”
Rung’s eyebrows rose. “Goodness.” That was quite a loaded question. However, Rung wasn’t one to abandon a person in their time of need. “Well, have you every heard of the Knights of Cybertron?”