ante_luce | Hunter Green (Part 4)

This is what happens when plot bunnies are smarter than you. Skyfire's inclusion in this fic was a spur of the moment, need a few bots on the science team thing, then bunny generated his scene much later and I went... Oh.

Title: Hunter Green (Part 4)
'Verse: G1 Transformers.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Same as before. Now with mention of slash.

Briefing the whole Ark took time, and the cycle was mostly over before every bot had been informed of the situation, and cautioned on how to act around their guest. Reactions were mixed, ranging from compassion for an individual clearly in a very difficult situation, to mingled disgust and anger that that entity was online and not Prowl. A few suggested the A.I. be deleted from Prowl’s CPU and his chassis be kept online until he resurfaced, but the suggestion was vetoed on the grounds that they didn’t know how such a procedure would affect their comrade’s mind, and by the threatening expressions on both Ironhide’s and Jazz’s faceplates. Optimus attempted to reason with them.

“Jazz, Ironhide, they don’t know that Hunter may be sapient. They haven’t met him.”

“I know. Just doesn’t sit right with me. The mech… A.I. … Argh. Hunter helped us at that battle. They could at least give him some credit for that.”

“They thought he was Prowl, ‘Hide. And when they found otherwise, they were disappointed and were lashing out at the most convenient target.” Even though he was trying to rationalise the crew’s harsher reactions, Jazz couldn’t keep all the bitterness out of his tone.

“Yeah… Frag. Hunter still deserves better. As it is, I’m not sure if they’ll care even if they meet him.”

To divert them from this unhelpful train of thought, their Commander offered a suggestion. “Skyfire and Ratchet should have finished going through Hunter’s data by now, perhaps we should pay them a visit?”

“You go ahead. I got work to do.” The red mech waved distractedly as he headed for his office and his desk to make a dent in the pile of reports and requisitions covering it. Optimus turned to Jazz, silently indicating the door, and the saboteur mimicked a human sigh before leaving the room and starting in the direction of the med bay.

When the pair reached their destination, they found Skyfire, Perceptor and Ratchet already gathered, Wheeljack absent, having explained that his knowledge of such things was not enough to be useful, along with Red Alert who was muttering to himself, connected to an in-stasis Hunter. Skyfire looked up as they approached, and his greeting alerted the others of their entrance.

Once they neared the group, Optimus glanced at the part-conscious mech, then back at their Security Director. “Did you find anything, Red Alert?”

The mech growled softly before answering. “Nothing. The CPU’s clean,” And here Ratchet huffed in annoyance that apparently his scans had not been good enough for the high strung mech. “But I still don’t trust it.”

A weary cycle of air answered him. “All I ask is that Hunter not be harassed however long he remains with us.”

The mech made a disgruntled, but agreeable sound, and after disconnecting his multitude of cables, stalked out of the room to return to his monitors. Ratchet sighed and turned to give his report. “I’ve installed the tracker, as requested, and disabled his internal weapons systems. And at Red Alert’s insistence, I’ve jammed his comm. systems, and removed his transformation cog. You already have all his external weapons.”

“Good. And the blocks?”

“They suppress Prowl’s personality, but they are not responsible for keeping it dormant. Even if Prowl had awoken, the blocks would effectively make him a mere observer in his own body. I’m not sure if that was intentional or not.” And here he growled. “And if I find out that it was, the mech who designed them will wish he never learnt to code in the first place.”

“Can you remove them?”

“Already have.” He’d almost torn through them in his fury, only consideration for Hunter making him take more care with the procedure.

“Very good. Skyfire? Perceptor?”

As the two mechs started talking, Jazz tuned them out and wandered over to where Hunter was lying still. Staring at the chassis without really seeing it, he was soon joined by Ratchet, who took one look at his expression and rumbled in commiseration.

“It’s slagging weird.”

“I know.”

The pair fell silent again as the medic bent over Hunter, linking up to bring him back to full online state again. Preceptor’s voice carried over as he got louder in his enthusiasm over the ‘new research opportunity’ they were presented with, and Jazz winced. Ratchet frowned, but was occupied with making sure Hunter’s CPU was running smoothly. Red Alert could get… enthusiastic, and had no care for what he deemed wasn’t a mech.

“… Ow.” The mech on the berth rubbed his helm in a futile attempt to ease the discomfort. A black hand hesitated, and then made contact as well. It might not have any effect on the ache, but the gesture of empathy helped as much as anything else.

“Hah. I’d agree.” The saboteur nodded, artificial little smile straining to stay on. He’d been through similar processor scans, when missions went awry and he ended up as a guest in a Decepticon brig. The main difference was that he had been trained to handle such things, and while Prowl had much the same experience, Hunter did not. And even with Hunter not actively trying to fight the scans, the process by its very nature was invasive and rough on the bot undergoing it.

“This is fascinating! An extraordinary case study. A chance to compare an established mind with one which has just gained awareness, both originating from the same Spark, reducing variance between observations. What is it about our sparks that makes us different from the drones? How much of our personalities come from the spark, and how much is determined by our cumulative experiences?” Perceptor was getting even more animated now, heedless of Skyfire’s attempts to signal him to lower his volume.

“We may even find out the boundaries of our sapience. What makes up awareness, what boundaries are there between mere artificial intelligence and our own, and can we even make such a distinction? Such a unique, yet fortuitous situation. Scientists all over Cybertron would have given up their first creations for an opportunity to examine this specimen!”

“Perceptor.” The word came out near arctic in its tone, and the aforementioned mech stopped short, turning to face the glares directed at him from a visor and a pair of optics. Glancing in between them he realised that Hunter was online, and had heard his words, and that the bot looked, for lack of a better description, like an animal cognizant of its destiny as a live dissection specimen.

“Oh… Oh Primus. I apologise.” He’d started in their direction, but froze as the mech, door wings held high and flicking erratically, unconsciously jerked away from him as much as he could while still remaining on the berth. “My behaviour was beyond reprehensible. You are not an experimental subject, and I should not have spoken about you as such. I got carried away…”

The genuine remorse in his expression was likely the only thing keeping Ratchet from throwing something at him. Or Jazz from messily taking him apart. Perceptor remained somewhat awkwardly and forlornly where he now stood. “And… I’ll just leave now. I’ll pass my notes on to you, Skyfire.”

The jet nodded in reply and the smaller mech left, shoulders slumped. As the doors closed on the room, Ratchet stiffened and clicked in surprise, looking at the mech still connected to him. “What’s this?”

Hunter looked back, wary posture not changing, though his expression was as blank as Prowl’s had ever gotten. When he got no explanation, Ratchet delved further into the curious line of programming he found, and was thankful the A.I. still trusted him enough to not fight him. Or perhaps Hunter was too shaken to even try. The medic drew back with a soft hiss of understanding as the nature of the code became clear.

A diverting program, dormant until certain memories were prompted, then it prevented the memory data from running unless Hunter allowed it, which explained why none of their scans had picked up on it until now. From what Jazz had told him, Hunter had no control of what memories were triggered and read by his programming if he didn’t consciously go seeking them. But… what memories could be triggered by this situa- He cut off the train of thought and returned a slowly growing look of dismay to Hunter’s optics. The mech picked up on the question he couldn’t bring himself to ask, and replied in a quiet, detached tone.

“First memories I picked up. S’what clued the ‘Cons into my growing aware. They installed that to prevent me from being disruptive at inopportune times, yet still be able to access the data for information, if any.”

“What kind of information could possibly be extracted from that!”

Hunter only shrugged. The rest of the mechs were now watching them warily, somewhat lost. Ratchet turned to the Prime and wearily spoke again. “We’ll need to get Smokescreen in.”

========================================

They were watching the black and white mech from within Ratchet’s office, having retreated there to discuss the matter away from Hunter’s audios. The subject of their scrutiny occasionally glanced in their direction, then redirected his optics to Ratchet and their vague, awkward conversation, clearly trying to keep his processors off them.

Skyfire was the first to speak. “Do you notice anything about his behaviour?”

Jazz watched the mech for a breem before he replied. “… S’nothing out of the ordinary, why?”

Smokescreen, having been summoned by the now absent Optimus, answered him. “Look again please, and this time, look at his body language and not his paint job.”

“Wha?”

“Please, just do it.”

“Alright…”

There was more silence, before Jazz shook his head in confusion.

“… Still not seeing it guys. His wings sometimes move a lot more than Prowl’s but otherwise he’s acting about similar. Same as last night and when we first met him.”

“That’s just it, his wings move more than even Bluestreak’s when he’s in an unhappy state of mind. And Jazz, you can’t compare his behaviour to Prowl’s. Prowl is an adult mech. From the files Skyfire has shown me, Hunter, mentally, is like an adolescent, and that only by virtue of Prowl’s already developed programming when his A.I. was uploaded. Do you know of any youngling who, barring the door wing movement, keeps as still, and as silent, as Hunter does?”

“… Not really, younglings tend to get fidgety… Wait. Bluestreak was similar when we first found him. Slag.” Realisation dawned, and the other two nodded.

“You see then.”

“Primus. I’ve been seeing Prowl, and not him, haven’t I?”

The nearest thing the Ark had to a psychologist nodded sympathetically as he commed Ratchet to let him know that Hunter could go back to his quarters. “It’s understandable. A lot of Prowl’s mannerisms carried over, due to servo memory and the like. Hunter’s withdrawn behaviour, while atypical of a normal youngling, could be passed off as that of our tactician’s. Except for the wings. Our wings are sensor arrays, designed to gather information.” Here he twitched his own doors to emphasise his point, then continued.

“A fearful or wary mech with door wings will try to gather as much data on their surroundings as possible, hence the amount of movement Hunter displays. However, such movement confuses the information and makes it difficult to process, which is why we, that is, Prowl, Bluestreak and I, do not exhibit the same behaviour. We’ve learnt to control the movements to gain the most data efficiently, but Hunter is working off instinct. Still, he’s learning from what memories of Prowl’s come up for him, and seems to consciously suppress their movement around others.”

“He didn’t act scared when Ironhide had a cannon aimed at his head.” This puzzled Jazz, even the twins grew relatively wary when staring down the business end of a cannon.

“He might have expected that, given his access to Prowl’s tactical programs and data. I suspect he’s been using Prowl’s emotion suppression programs to avoid giving away his fear as well, and you know how infuriatingly effective those are, probably as a matter of survival in the company he recently left.” Smokescreen explained, pulling out a datapad to make a few notes.

“We’re… lucky, in a sense. The programs are still damaged by whatever the ‘Cons put Prowl through, allowing us to catch sight of his true emotional state, and Hunter is a modicum more secure here, though Perceptor’s words certainly did not help. Imagine if we’d released him to the general population of the Ark, still in this state of mind, coupled with what memories Ratchet believes Hunter has come across. As it is, we can sit him down for a counselling session or few beforehand.”

“He’s been at panic stations the whole time. I didn’t see it, ‘cos everything else was ‘normal’ for Prowl. And last night… Primus, I gotta go apologise to him.” The Porsche stared out the window facing the Med Bay and the doors through which Hunter and Ratchet had left. Skyfire rested a hand on his shoulder reassuringly.

“Like Smokescreen said, the failure to notice is not without reason.” The jet murmured. “Let me speak to him first.”

Smokescreen eyed him in a considering manner. “You’re making the connection between his circumstances and yours, aren’t you, Skyfire?” The mech tilted his head in a non-committal manner.

“Perhaps. If Hunter remembers anything about me I’ll have more of a connection. And he knows me. We’ve unwittingly increased his reasons for being fearful around us, might as well not make it worse.”

========================================

“Hunter?” The mech looked up at the sound the door opening, lowering the bookfile he’d been reading.

“Yes Skyfire?” His visitor ducked into the room, slowing walking towards him.

“How are you?” He tilted his head, considering the question and his answer.

“Alright, all things considered.”

“Are you sure?”

“… Yes. I’m fine.” Hunter eyed Skyfire warily, unsure as to where this line of questioning was leading.

“I’m not so convinced.”

“… Oh?”

“Hunter, do you know what I see when I look at you?” The black and white mech was silent for a while, and Skyfire was afraid he’d taken the question as rhetorical when he replied, voice even and bland, emotion suppressing protocols visibly snapping into place.

“Prowl. And someone who’s not meant to be here.”

“Hunter. I see a youngling.” The black and white mech’s blank look expressed his opinion of Skyfire’s use of the term for ‘a mere A.I.’. Undeterred, the jet continued.

“I see someone who’s only recently come online, surrounded by Decepticons and knowing only what they’ve told him. Someone who, on the basis of borrowed memories and another mech’s Spark, left everything he knew to come to the Autobots because it was what he thought was the right thing to do. And he’s scared to the Pit and back and trying very hard not to show it.”

Hunter remained silent, though his optics never left Skyfire’s.

“I may not know exactly what you’re going through, but I can sympathise.”

“I remember something about your own coming to the Ark.” Hunter was trying to draw attention away from himself and his circumstances. Since it meshed with what he was going to say next, Skyfire took the opening inadvertently granted and used it.

“Then you know that I know some of what it’s like. But I had the advantage of being a grown mech when I fell into stasis and was later awoken by the ‘Cons. I knew right from wrong, had experiences that shaped my moral code and allowed me to realise I couldn’t agree with them, no matter what my fr- Starscream said. You had nothing. I looked at the data you gave me. You weren’t given much of anything beyond directives to utilise the programming Prowl’s CPU already had.”

“I’m not afraid. None of the others seemed to think so.” Apparently the mech was going to deny what he saw as a weakness.

“They’re still a bit thrown by Prowl’s appearance to notice the things you’ve not managed to hide with his little tricks. They’ve also known him for far longer than I have, and I suspect that’s clouded their judgement somewhat.” The researcher couldn’t bring himself to be too harsh on his comrades, understanding their oversight.

More silence, more twitching doorwings which quickly fell still when Hunter noticed, and Skyfire took a little gamble. Keeping his tone gentle and kind, he spoke again.

“It’s alright to be scared, I was.” White hands tightened on the bookfile, causing the casing to creak in protest. The sound seemed to spark off something in the smaller mech.

“Primus… Skyfire… I…”

Hunter crumpled, and Skyfire was quick to catch hold of him, murmuring soothing nonsense and smoothing a hand comfortingly over trembling doorwings. Hunter made no sound, just shook like a leaf, intakes working hard to keep from overheating. The jet held onto him until eventually, he calmed, and the pair remained like that for a while after.

“Thank you.”

“It’s alright. Do you want to talk about it?”

“… Not really.”

“I won’t press right now. But you will be talking about this, either with me or Smokescreen.”

“Yes sir.”

“None of that. Now, from numerous rants by Ratchet, I gather that Prowl’s processors are more than capable of going for cycles without recharge, with no overt adverse effects. However, that does not mean you should do so. When was the last time you recharged properly?”

A sheepish expression, and the mech broke eye contact.

“… I don’t want to know the answer, huh.” He cycled air in a mock-resigned sigh when answered with a nod and a very slight smile, lightening the mood in the room.

“Very well. Ignorance is bliss in this case; Ratchet won’t be able to rant if he doesn’t know. But you. Go into recharge. And properly.”

The slight smile grew a fraction larger. “Yes sir.”