Heyday

Log Title: Heyday

Characters: Ratchet, Sparkplug, Spike

Location: Autobot Ark, Earth

Date: Late 1984

TP: Flashbacks TP

Summary: Sparkplug and Spike find their niche on the Ark.

As logged by Sparkplug - Wednesday, April 27, 2016, 11:43 PM

Autobot Interceptor 
It's late 1984. Sparkplug and Spike are finding their niche at the Ark. The two are still sleeping on cots, with makeshift walls between them. Buster is now at Ron and Judy's. Sparkplug's home has gone into foreclosure, but now totally out of work - and fully committed to the Autobots, each day is a new journey for the middle-aged father of two. And after several lessons from Ratchet during the day, while Spike's at school, Sparkplug is to the point where he can do this repair on his own. And now, arriving here from his newly-transplanted school, a 14-year-old Spike quickly puts aside his school work to witness his father doing some general repairs to Hound. Hound, who is currently in stasis is resting, but his chestplate is removed, exposing his internals in all their alien glory.

Spike looks on in his dad in silent awe. A few weeks ago, Ratchet had to pretty much guide him through even the most minute of repairs, but picking this up has actually come rather naturally for the uber-skilled mechanic.

Sparkplug looks over at his son and smiles. "You see, son," he explains. "The technology is pretty advanced, but when you boil it all down to basics, it's the same - fuel provides energy, and energy provides movement. I can't claim to understand what makes them tick at their core -" Sparkplug gestures to where Hound's core is literally held - "but I'm starting to get the hang of the nuts and bolts of their servos and actuators, and Spike - it'll be only a matter of time before we'll be able to help fix these guys in the field when they get banged up." Sparkplug practically bristles with gruff excitement.

Between the insurance settlement that Roland doled out to his coworkers on the oil rig, and the meager funds that Sparkplug was rewarded from the foreclosure of the house, the elder Witwicky envisions between food and money for Buster, Spike and Sparkplug can live like this for a few months. After that...who knows. But what other humans have this chance now?

Spike looks on, still in awe of what he's seeing. He nods eagerly, "Right..." he looks on as Sparkplug is doing some routine maintenance for Hound. He says cautiously "I just don't want to harm them." He adds "getting the timing chain alignment wrong on a Dodge Dart is one thing...you can just try again, but these guys... it looks like you can do some serious damage if you don't know what you're doing."

Spike 's eyes focus intently on what Sparkplug is doing. Observing and learning by a sort of osmosis, equally intrigued about the 'how' as much as the 'why' Sparkplug is making these sort of repair decisions.

Sparkplug nods in agreement, but gives his son an encouraging smile. "You have to be careful for sure," he rasps, "but these guys are pretty tough, inside and out. Ratchet is giving me a pretty good idea of what's safe to touch and what we should leave to the big boys, but we can do a lot to help them with just what we know already." Sparkplug works slowly, demonstrating each step for Spike, answering questions and showing supreme confidence in Spike's ability to learn. Spike looks on eagerly. He seems to want to ask something, but holds back, but then he can't help as he sees Sparkplug do one thing he's not used to seeing on other cars. "Uh...hold on...sorry..." He points to Hound's fuel injection systems, "Why aren't you using oil to coat those supports?"

Some of Spike's textbooks are gathering dust. With the exception of history books - he now has taken a renewed interest in the subject to be ready if an Autobot has any questions. And he still is pretty big on the English classes, but to be honest, 'A Wrinkle in Time' just isn't doing it for him now that he's experiencing some real-life sci-fi shit. Math is also not getting that much attention, but science is. The real-life education is just too good to pass up.

Sparkplug grins broadly, and it's easy to see Spike is not alone in his curiosity and excitement. "The Autobots have their own self-lubricating systems - far in advance of crude oil, no pun intended." Sparkplug points to small nodules along the edge of the supports. "These excrete just the right amount of lube needed at the time - no more, no less, and nothing to get dirty or gunked up when on or off the road - which is especially necessary for someone like Hound." Sparkplug pats the sleep-moded Autobot affectionately.

Spike leans in and looks. He shakes his head in disbelief. "Unbelievable..." Spike takes his journal and opens a fresh page and labels it 'HOUND' and begins to write his observations. He frowns, still trying to 'get' the Autobots. "So...they're like... fully developed when they're created, right? They don't like... go through the infant and toddler and teenage phases like us, right?"

Spike gives Hound a sad smile and says "Hopefully I can give you a tune-up myself in a year or so." Spike doesn't seem to care the two are pretty much living at or below the poverty line, within a large vehicle that running water was recently set up, the showers are still about as cold as they were on the oil rig, but this existence beats the alternative by light years.

Sparkplug nods slowly. "That's my understanding, but I'll admit I don't know how it all works. I mean, Ironhide somehow seems older than Bumblebee, although when we're talkin' millions of years it's hard to gage just what's considered 'old'. I'll have to ask Ratchet about it next time we're working together on a damaged Autobot. In the meantime, here's what we should do next with Hound." Sparkplug carefully shows Spike the next step.

Spike looks on intently. The intensity's there. But Sparkplug is catching on to this like a natural. Spike winces a bit in frustration as he picks up the steps up to around 14, but then loses track just for a second. He sighs "dang it..." He looks at his father and says "Sorry...can you like...go back like...3 steps, just after you attached the vacuum tube?"

Spike may feel like a total dunce in front of his dad, but his concentration, and his ability to repeat the steps he just observed almost verbatim already makes him at least as good as nearly half of the people Sparkplug has worked with - who are his age. Not bad for a 14-year-old. But still... his skills are very much in their 'training wheels' stages. Spike breathes out his nose in frustration. He's never going to get this.

Sparkplug has infinite patience. "Of course, Spike. Let me slow down so you can write things down." Sparkplug, of course, never has to write anything down, but then again, Sparkplug has a few decades more experience in repairs than Spike does. Sparkplug slowly goes through the procedure again, taking more care to make sure Spike completely groks each step before moving onto the next. 'Training wheels' or not, Sparkplug seems ready to burst with pride at how quickly his son is learning to maintain giant alien robots. Next stop - garage repairs.

Spike nods and eagerly scribbles. He then catches up to where Sparkplug was before Spike interrupted. He grins and says "Ok...thanks...." He shakes his head in disbelief. "I can't believe how quickly you're picking up on this. I mean...I CAN, because...well, you can fix anything, but this is like...alien technology."

Spike nods and says "I really think we can help these guys defeat the Decepticons. I mean...I know they're going to have to do it, but I really think we can help them out."

Sparkplug waves it off. "It's just like working on any new car - more computers, which makes it easier to diagnose but more complicated to repair. I'm not sure what I'm going to be able to build on the fly for these guys, but that's what Ratchet's for - he can tool-and-die like nobody's business! He's the one that's amazing - he's just showing me what he knows, and I'm showing you." Sparkplug grins broadly. "I know we can make a difference, Spike - you and me together."

Spike beams at that. Ratchet emerges from his own repair quarters. He looks on at Sparkplug and gives his spawn a polite nod, but then focuses his attention on Sparkplug. "Ah, yes, Sparkplug - I'm trying to get Ironhide's systems to be better adjusted to this...desert environment, would you mind assisting me for a few moments?" Spike 's grin gets bigger, Ratchet wants dad's help. They have officially struck the lottery of life (before injuries, kidnappings, brainwashings, house destructions, and epic beatdowns).

Sparkplug finishes up Hound's maintenance check, and carefully restores his hood. "Well, that's it for tonight. You should do your homework and get to bed. Maybe tomorrow Hound can give us a ride up into the mountains, and we can show him just how beautiful Earth can be." He looks up as Ratchet comes in and asks his assistance. "You're the boss, doc!" he laughs, and stands, tousling Spike's hair before heading off to help the alien medic. "Good night, Spike! See you in the morning!"

Spike breathes out and rolls his eyes. Oh yeah, homework, that. He mumbles "Yeah...I'll start..." He looks on with pride, the chief Autobot doctor, wanting Sparkplug's help.

Ratchet looks down at Sparkplug and carefully pats the human's back. "So... I forgot to tell you, I DID encounter a race once, much like your own...it was about 5 million years ago... on a short mission..." Spike looks on as Ratchet's story trails off as Ratchet continues his mentorship of Sparkplug.