Iacon was silent, as it generally was. Every so often a bot or two would pass by the medic, without saying a word. Ratchet didn't mind, he was quite focused on the data pad in his servo. Researching was one of his favorite things to do when he wasn't working as a medic, and did it quite often. Most bots who didn't know him just assumed he lived at Iacon, because he was there so often. Ratchet was researching about the cortical physic patch, a tool he was quite interested in, when he heard ped steps nearby. A data clerk was carrying a huge pile of datapads that were toppled up so high he couldn't see was walking behind Ratchet, probably going to put them away. Ratchet glanced up at him as he passed before returning his attention to the datapad.

Thud!

"Aaah!" The data clerk cried, which earned Ratchet's attention back. The medic turned in his chair to see the clerk had tripped, faceplanted, sending all the datapads everywhere on the floor.

"Primus, are you alright?" Ratchet stood up and knelt beside him. The clerk looked ridiculous, and it took everything to avoid laughing.

"Y-Yes." He nodded, a tinge of blue on his cheeks. Sitting up, he began to pick up all the scattered data pads, as did Ratchet.

"Let me carry some for you," the medic insisted when the clerk put his hand out to take the ones that Ratchet had gathered, "even archivists don't need to carry stacks that high."

"Thanks." The clerk smiled, and they stood up. "They need to go over there." His gesture in the direction of the shelves was a simple jerk of the helm, which was barely readable to the medic.

As the two bots walked towards the shelves, dropping a few on the way and laughing while watching eachother pathetically try to pick them up without dropping more, they introduced themselves, as Ratchet the medic, and Orion Pax the archivist. Once the datapads had been put where they needed to be, the two continued to converse all the way back to the table where Ratchet had been researching.

"Thanks again for helping." Orion said to Ratchet as the medic sat back down. "It's nice to have some help every once in a while. Most mechs and femmes would just walk away."

Ratchet waved his servo dismissively. "Of course."

"What are you researching on?" Orion pointed to the datapad on the table, sitting in the chair beside Ratchet's.

"Cortical physic patch." The medic replied, pushing it over to him so he could see. "It's a tool that allows one to be transported into another's subconscious mind."

The archivist's optics skimmed over the datapad. "Hm. Sounds interesting. Have you ever tried it?"

Ratchet shook his helm, taking the datapad back.

"Oriooooon?" A mech's voice called from the halls. "Orriiiooooon!" Immediately Orion was on his peds, waving goodbye to Ratchet and running down the hall.

"Orion- WALK!" The mech scolding voice sounded from down the hall. Ratchet chuckled a bit as he heard Orion's running pedsteps slow down to a walk.

Still smiling, Ratchet returned to reading, but he just couldn't focus. And we all know how frustrating THAT is. Whenever he tried to keep reading, the image of Orion Pax facedown on the floor popped into his processor and made him laugh. Real mature, right?

Eventually he got a hold of himself and was able to finish the datapad, by then it was getting dark, and was time for Ratchet to return home.

He swiftly located the shelf where the datapad belonged, and headed for the exit. When he passed the front desk, Orion waved goodbye, which Ratchet returned, and left.

It was a couple weeks before Ratchet was able to return to Iacon, he was quite busy. Between doing medic training exercises at the medical labs and treating youngs mechs and femmes that had bike accidents or were dared to jump off something and failed miserably, he had no time just to hang around and read. He completely forgot about Orion. But when he did finally get to Iacon, he didn't see the archivist, which was a little disappointing, but wasn't the sole purpose he was at Iacon. Ratchet simply found a shelf and began searching through it for something interesting.

Nothing was really catching his optic, so he just randomly grabbed a datapad and settling down at the table with it.

That's when he a tremendously loud thud, and the sound of datapads hitting the floor.

Ratchet jumped up. That couldn't have been Orion faceplanting again. This was much to loud. The medic slowly stood up and followed the sound, around a few shelves, until he saw what exactly caused it:

It appeared a shelf had tipped over, with hundreds of datapads everywhere on the floor.

"What in the name of Primus!" Ratchet exclaimed, walking around to the front of the shelf. That's when he noticed the certain archivist that the shelf had landed on. "Orion?!"

Orion was laying on his stomach and had his waist and lower underneath the toppled shelf.

He slowly lifted his helm to look at Ratchet. "H-H-Hey Ratchet... are you f-f-f-finding everything a-a-a-alright?"

Raising an optic ridge, the medic nodded.

"G-G-Good... I know y-your busy and all, b-b-b-but can you possible lend a s-s-servo?" Orion choked out, his legs growing numb.

"Of course!" Ratchet quickly stepped over, wincing as a few datapads cracked under his peds. "How did this even happen?" He reached down and felt for a good edge he could use to lift up the shelf.

Orion weakly shrugged.

"Alright..." Ratchet sighed. "Let's get this thing off you." He inhaled deeply and lifted, the heavy shelf weighing down on him a great deal. It was heavier than he expected, and he barely lifted it enough for Orion to get out. "O-O-Orion... hurry up..." Ratchet hissed, doubting he could hold it for a long period of time.

Orion scrambled out hastily, before Ratchet dropped the toppled shelf.

"Thanks Ratchet." The archivist shakily got to his peds, stumbling a bit. "Uh... sorry about that though..."

"It's fine... don't get yourself offlined, though." Ratchet smiled. "But you could've been damaged. Mind if I scan you?"

Orion raised an optic ridge. "Okay."

The medic used the scanner in his arm and scanned him, while Orion watched in awe.

"You seem fine, but your hips are a little crushed, they'll be pretty sore for a week or two. Take it easy and don't get crushed by anymore shelves." Ratchet stated.

"You bet, Doc."

"Tshnnzzn no. Don't call me Doc." Ratchet waved his servos at Orion, creating an unreadable word.

Orion laughed. "Okay, then. I won't call you Doc." His gaze drifted to the floor, which was covered in datapads. "Oh Primus..."

"What happened in here?" A calm but stern voice earned both their attention. A tall, wise looking mech was staring at the mess with a disapproving look.

"I-It was an accident, Alpha Trion. I'm really sorry- I'll get it cleaned up." Orion said quickly, already bending over to pick up some datapads. "Don't worry. I can fix it."

"You? Get this cleaned up on your own?" Alpha Trion raised an optic ridge. "That'll be quite the task."

"I'll help him." Ratchet spoke up, lowering to his knees to gather up datapads. "It'll go faster."

"And what's your name, young mech?"

"Ratchet." The medic replied, the majority of his attention on the task at hand.

"Mm. It's good to know Orion has a companion to assist him." Alpha Trion turned to leave. "Enjoy yourselves." Orion watched him leave, before beginning to gather datapads.

"You don't have to help me, you know." He said after a few seconds.

"I want to." Ratchet replied, making a pile of nicely stacked datapads. "It's my pleasure, really." He added when Orion sent him a doubtful look.

"Thanks. It's a really big help."

For the next few hours, the two talked and laughed as they cleaned, and by the time they had the mess picked up, and lifted the shelf back to its normal height, it was quite dark outside. The stars glowed bright that night, glittering and sparkling, just what the day needed. A bright night sky to compliment it.

"I should probably get back to my housing unit." Ratchet murmured as he and Orion stepped out of the doors to Iacon, his optics on the beautiful sky.

"I'll walk you there." Orion offered with a smile. "Just in case a cyberwolf consumes you, because that's so common in the city." He added, a goofy sparkle in his optics.

"Oh, my hero." Ratchet scoffed, rolling his optics and shoving Orion playfully on the shoulder. "I can walk on my own. I'm not a princess."

"My apologies, my femme. I will not happen again." Orion faked a royalist accent, and did a little bow. "To the castle now, Fair Princess?" Still down in the bow, he smirked up at Ratchet, earning a glare and a snort.

"Alright, you can walk me home. Just shut your mouth." The medic began walking.

"As you command, Princess." The archivist said, still in the accent.

"Your talking."

"My apologies, dear-"

"Your still talking!"

"Princess-"

"Primus fraggit Orion, stop talking!"

Orion laughed, a playful glint in his optics. "Okay okay I'm done."

Turning his helm to look at him, Ratchet raised an optic ridge. "You better be," hesitantly, he added: "Faithful servant."

Orion's mouth dropped open. "What!? I'm the servant!?"

"Yep."

They both burst out laughing as they continued down the road, both of them beginning to use royalist accents and creating roleplay situations, all the way to Ratchet's housing unit, where they bid farewell to eachother, and Ratchet settled down for the night.

And that, was the beginning of a friendship that would last through bad, and through worse.