LOG-007.

  While Megatron went off to test his new toy, I was essentially given carte blanche in scientific matters, until we found something of use that I could focus on

  I'd taken to observing the vehicons that worked throughout the various sections of the Nemesis' hull. When I wasn't locked up in my lab at least.

  So I went through the equivalent of old blueprints, noting down the strengths and weaknesses of the Decepticon soldiers. Strengths that I would enhance and weaknesses that I would purge in the Zakus.

  What that meant was that I took the time to make my way down to one of the ship's many gathering areas, Zero and Z-1 flanking my sides. Really, it was just a storage room with a few tables and benches, most mechs tended to refuel in their cubbies.

  Cubbies. Or 'personal stasis areas', rather. The rank and file didn't even have rooms. Just a small hole with a berth inside. It saved a lot of space, to say the very least.

  Of course, the atmosphere changed once we stepped inside. It got quieter, with several vehicons standing at attention. A stark contrast to the relaxed posture that had practically evaporated with our presence.

  Slowly panning my helm to take in the entire hall, I chose a table and strode towards it, waving a servo at the rest of the dozen or so soldiers and miners.

  "As you were."

  The background noise of conversation slowly, hesitatingly resumed, though as my escorts and I sat down the occupants of our table made to stand up.

  "Sit."

  The clank of several afts hitting the bench at the same time drew just a tiny bit of amusement out of my processor.

  Resting my arm (the one with actual functioning digits) on the table, I took a moment to take in each of the four mechs sitting across from me. I also noticed their own silent, masked glances at the Zakus sitting to my sides.

  One of the vehicons, a Seeker, finally broke the silence.

  "Did...did you need something, Commander?"

  I let my vision zoom in, taking note of each little scratch and dent adorning the flyer's frame. His red visor had a small chip running across it's left-hand side.

  "Your condition isn't optimal. Explain."

  He tilted his helm, stuttering.

  "W-what?"

  I cycled air in an approximation of a sigh.

  "Surface damage on both your visor, shoulder plates and helm. Scratching. General wear and tear on your joints as well, now that I'm looking at it properly. The afflicted parts should have been either buffed out or replaced entirely."

  Leaning forward, I gestured to the Seeker's left shoulder, a large, clearly spot welded scar running across it. His comrades leaned in as well, glancing at the damage now that I'd pointed it out.

  "This is damage that should have been dealt with immediately upon return from the field."

  Grabbing the silent mech by his right wing, I pulled him forward, scanning the weld point.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  "You repaired this yourself?"

  A nod, his voice glitching slightly.

  "Knockout turned me away when I showed up. Said the damage was minor and didn't warrant Decepticon resources. So I uh...dealt with it myself. One of the miners let me borrow his welder."

  Tapping a digit against the table, I nodded slowly, thinking.

  After another moment, the vehicons began glancing at the Seeker I had interrogated, who had begun drawing in on himself for whatever reason.

  The group collectively flinched when I looked up, nodding.

  "Zero, gather the rest of the Zakus and spread the following information throughout the ship. Until mandated otherwise, I will be performing repair work on any who require it. They may ask for my assistance outside my laboratory. Return to me when this is done."

  The Zaku nodded as I stood up, marching out of the hall. Z-1 also springing to his pedes to follow me. I ignored the conversation that sprang up as I vacated the group.

  "Primus, I thought he was gonna scrap you..."

  "You're telling me!"

  "Proper maintenance...that sounds nice."

  I'd intended to ask a few basic questions, like whether they liked or disliked their frames. If they preferred their visors or would like to try the more traditional dual optic design. Whether they functioned well on alien worlds such as Earth, or needed updates to their systems.

  But this took priority.

  Sure, these weren't my original vehicons. They were generations away from my original prototypes, in fact.

  Yet despite that, something irked me, seeing my creations so...dirty. Like a badly maintained tool.

  I knew enough about cybertronian physiology that I could reasonably act as a medic. The necessary resources could be diverted from some of my more whimsical experiments, and I was sure Knockout wouldn't raise too much of a fuss if I borrowed some of his tools.

  Hm...perhaps I should provide a basic cleaning service too?

  ---

  "Spot-welder."

  Word had spread, quite quickly in fact.

  "Unlatch the second joint. Gently slide off the visor. Be careful not to catch it on the first joint, it looks rusted."

  Turns out vehicons talk. A lot. Zero had barely needed to inform some off duty miners about my new self appointed task, the purple clones had practically done the rest themselves.

  Within the hour, I'd had several nervous Grounders standing outside. They'd brightened up considerably when Z-3 had ordered them inside, insisting that they hadn't been misled.

  "Offline your optical connection please."

  After I'd dealt with some minor damage, the group had left. Then they'd returned with several other groups. Now I had a small line, soldiers and miners alike taking the time alloted to them during their break periods to visit me.

  And it really was such stupidly minor damage that had just been left to pile up. The mech currently resting on my berth had been having issues with his visuals. Glitches in the corners of his optics. The issues had began after he'd gotten a bad hit to the helm by collapsing rocks. The hazards of mining.

  Of course it was a simple fix, just a bit of rewiring was needed. I'd been affixing his visor back into place when the door to my lab had opened.

  "What's going on in here?!"

  We both looked up to see a heaving Knockout, the flashy speedster staring at my servo in shock.

  "Shockwave! That's my spot-welder!"

  Tilting my helm, I nodded.

  "Yes. I borrowed it."

  I went back to reattaching the vehicon's only source of vision as the medic spluttered.

  "But-but that's my-" He paused as I waved him over with my cannon.

  "Actually, now that you're here, could you help me with the Grounders waiting outside? Several have scratched tires. Your expertise in such repairs would be invaluable."

  He paused for a moment, before removing some imaginary dust from his chest plate.

  "Well of course, I am well versed in such matters after all. You, Z...2, was it? Go back to my surgery and grab my buffer!" At my nod, the green mech quickly strode outside.

  Stepping back, I let Knockout do his thing, the medic sorting out the miner's visor even as he spoke.

  "You know, I never took you for the selfless type, what exactly brought all this on?"

  He paused as I placed a servo on his shoulder, slowly turning to stare at me.

  "I found the state of the vehicons...unsatisfactory. Are we so lacking in resources that we can not maintain our troops?"

  The Decepticon opened and closed his mouth a few times, before finally settling on an answer.

  "W-well, it was considered inconsequential at the time! Resources had to be focused on other, more important matte-"

  He shut up as I leaned forward, nodding.

  "Understandable. However it is only logical to ensure our forces remain in peak condition. I trust you agree?"

  At his slow nod, I stepped back.

  "Excellent, I'll instruct the Zakus to return your equipment. Your efforts are vital to the Decepticon war effort, Knockout. I trust your finish can wait until our vehicons aren't falling apart."

  Shuttering his optics, he let a nervous grin color his faceplate.

  "Why yes, of course! Can't do with the rank and file walking around looking like Junkions!"

  I hummed as I strode outside.

  "Indeed. Please continue your work, doctor. If you have need of me, I'll be examining this 'Silas' you have been keeping in captivity."

  Knockout's expression morphed into one of sadistic pleasure, his voice calling out just before the door closed.

  "Give that one a good 'inspection' for me, would you?!"

  Stretching a shoulder joint, I continued walking.

  "Of course. I'll be especially thorough in my examination."