Somewhat of a Gearstick

Pipes waits patiently, displaying not an ounce of anticipation. After all, he expects this to be very cut-and-dried; he knows he’s not a minibot. It’s the sort of thing that someone had sorted out right away, there’s no chance that he could have lived his whole life without knowing—

“Well, that’s what the records say...” Ambulon shrugs, his voice taking on the tone of mild amusement, with a hint of sympathy, at the, newly classified, minibot’s disbelief.

While Red Alert would never admit it or necessarily believed it, the optimism from the medic did him good, as something to counteract the extreme pessimism his processor seemed to default to. But while the ‘best minds of cybertron’ bit might be true, he couldn’t help but notice the vagueness of the hopeful statements.

The smile fell from Ambulon’s face when Red Alert inquired about the cure, his expression returning to his usually thin lipped frown. Primus, he was starting to wish Red Alert was more like Tailgate or Swerve- He was sure that those two would have been more than happy to accept his reassurance without further question

Great, time. Time in which, judging by the diagnostic questions and information given by Ambulon, he would be slowly becoming more and more disoriented as his memory banks corrupted. What a great way to go. There was little doubt in him that the virus would progress, and take him with it. He was in the middle of following that miserable train of thought when he felt a touch to his shoulder, and instinctively he jumped. He was.. not used to contact and was easily startled at the best of times, but he certainly hadn’t been prepared for this. Fighting the urge to return to staring at the medic with suspicion, he settled for staring down at his hands.

Ambulon was never one for the optimist expressions, but seeing the security chief like this, he decided the other bot needed something more than his usually stoic expression.

shoddypaintwork started following you

Name’s Ambulon, I’m the Ward Manager aboard the Lost Light.”

Ambulon was carefully watched as he moved to Red’s side, and coupled with his silence it made for a tense atmosphere. He nodded quickly at the first question, his attention split between Ambulon’s physical presence and the device now plugged into him.

“We’ll fix this.” Ambulon reassured, glancing down at the monitor, scheming through the readings, “According to this data the virus hasn’t fully matured, so we still have time.”