IC Time on Earth: Thu Aug 15 08:28:38 2024

NCC Central Hub

Fulcrum has arrived.

Fleet arrives from the sky, not one of his flashy sudden-stop entries, this is a simpler 'arrive, land' thing. Having just finished a scouting mission, he has a bit of time to spend, and he takes a moment to consider his options.

Fulcrum is checking and rechecking the action on his heat ray, frowning at the clicking noise they make as he cycles through their power-settings. "Find way to increase power output in robot mode" he notes to himself, "..without boost provided by larger jet engines."

Catechism is in the Hub yet again. One would think that she lives there or something, except there are no obvious Seeker-sized cardboard boxes here, no! It's just an area that she ends up passing through a lot. Yes, that's it. Nothing wrong with passing through the Hub between patrols and watch and whatnot.

Fleet approaches the general area of Fulcrum and Catechism because, thanks to the wonders of plot convenience, they just happened to be in the same general area of the hub. He nods a polite greeting to the both of them. "Fulcrum, Catechism." He doesn't say any more, deciding he's done HIS part in getting conversation started.

Fulcrum knows a way to get from the hub to where he sleeps, via maintenance tunnels. So maybe he DOES live in the hub! "Fleet" he drones, looking around. Oh right, Catechism is here too. The hub is truly the place to hang out. "Catechism. I have this report.." he holds up his slightly scratched and battered datapad, "..from Comcast in regards to our accuracy in combat situations. Apparantly he beleives that it could be better." Probably because Comcast couldn't hit the broad side of a barn during the last holographic training exercise. "He suggests training in the "real" world, rather than the simulated environment of the arena."

Catechism could hit things if only they would sit still! She glances at the datapad, not actually close enough to read whatever it says. She says, "I don't have any pressing duties at the moment," which really ought to have been evident by her unhurried manner, and looks at the other Seekers, "Are you free, too, or is this something to do later?"

Fleet frowns as he considers what Fulcrum says. "I have nothing pressing at the moment, but... wouldn't a real world training exercise carry with it the possibility of avoidable repairs? That would result in an unnecessary drain on resources, unless we're simply talking about combat practice here..."

Fulcrum considers that. "Prehaps some simple accuracy exercises" he finally remarks. "Rather than direct confrontation. We could choose adverse conditions to make the task harder. And a location sparesly populated by puny flesh creatures."

Catechism scrunches up her face and asks, "Like... somewhere with a lot of snow?"

The yellow robot runs a mental status check on his weapons. All within specifications. Goody. "That works for me." He leaps back into the air, head up and hands and arms down and slightly out as he unconsciously employs an aerial dance move, transforming as part of the same motion. He increases his altitude and begins a circling pattern, waiting for the others.

Fulcrum frowns at Fleet as he spins around gracefully. Show-off. Transforming an almost brutal, straightforward motion, he heads skywards with a roar of his engines."Alaska?" he broadcasts.

Fulcrum crouches, then leaps up, his joints screeching as he transforms into a grey and green MiG-29.

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) radios back, "U.S. territory?" He sounds a bit uncertain. In his experience thus far, U.S. territory almost always equals confrontation with the Autobots. Still, Fulcrum has greater familiarity with this planet than Fleet does. "All right," he adds. "Lead the way."

* Spinny! *

Northwest Territories/Yukon/Nunavut

Immense. That's the best description for the land area known as the Northwest Territories, full of tundra, animals, and cold, harsh weather. It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't also so desolate. Human settlements are few and far between. Most are small Inuit families that live in small, comfortable communities. The one large settlement, Whitehorse, is still sparsely populated, and is little more than a glorified village. The one thing that has never been used to its full potential here are the shale oil fields beneath the ground, but technology has yet to find a cheap and effective way to remove it.

Contents:

MiG-29 <Fulcrum>

Grimlock

-Shale Oil Fields-

Obvious exits:

North <N> leads to Arctic Circle.

South <S> leads to Western Provinces - Canada.

East <E> leads to Hudson Bay.

West <W> leads to Bering Sea.

Fly <Up>

Comcast has arrived.

Aircar <Strafe> descends from the skies above.

Aircar <Strafe> has arrived.

MiG-29 <Fulcrum> cruises o'er the frozen Alaskan ground like a MiG on a mission. Yes, Alaskan. Not Yukon, or Nunavut or whatever. Trust me. It's Alaska. "We are nearing the designated area" he broadcasts to his wingmates, Catechism strangely replaced by Comcast during the flight. The "designated area" appears to be.. empty wilderness.

Obviously, Comcast was just incorrectly replaced by Catechism in earlier scenes, because the animators didn't read the scripts closely enough! But this is Fleet, who flies behind the MiG for a moment, although several times during the flight he sped up and did some circling because honestly, being forced to fly so slow for so long is almost painful. "Acknowledged," he radios back, lowering his altitude appropriately as he approaches the indicated region.

Red F-15 Seeker <Comcast> was here all along! Looking like Catechism was a colouring error! Just like in the cartoon! The Seeker tries to maintain peace and quiet instead of grumbling about how sluggish Fulcrum is travelling along. I mean honestly, a SUB-sonic jet?

<OOC> Comcast says, "Hahahaha, Fleet and I both pose about animation errors and how Fulcrum is suckingly slow."

Much more familiar with the maps of Earth, an Autobot craft approaches from the south, aware that this is indeed Canadian territory. In fact, before he even left on patrol, Strafe put in a rigorous study session to refresh himself on national borders and boundaries. Yet even now, he worries about getting lost, as he constantly diverts his attention from his active scanning of the area to pinpoint his location on an electronic map downloaded to his memory. Though the air speeder is ambitiously probing the area, it is flying to fast to actually get a read on life forms, as it tries to cover too much ground too quickly.

<OOC> Fleet says, "Dammit! Alaska! Is Alaska! You're outvoted, Autobot! ;)"

MiG-29 <Fulcrum> swoops in for a landing, transforming as he does so to touch down gracelessly with a loud THUD. He straightens up from his half-crouch, turning to regard the landscape blankly. "This should be sufficient" he drones, looking back at Comcast, who is now the most high-ranking Decepticon on this particular mission of DOOM. Which means Fulcrum doesn't have to do much thinking anymore. Excellent.

The MiG-29 twists around and folds in on itself with a grinding sound, transforming into the robotic form of Fulcrum.

The tetrajet follows the green Russian craft, although his landing has considerable more style, touching down with enough grace that he doesn't so much as disturb the snow. Of course, this is mainly because it's melted by the bootjets before he lands, but still, it's a pretty landing. He, also, looks up at Comcast, still a little red stoplight in the sky, but likely a quickly growing one.

Red F-15 Seeker <Comcast> does indeed take over! He is a bossy little bugger, after all. He too transforms, burying his feet into the snow quite deeply as he lands, the snow around him starting to melt from the head of his boot-jets. "Alright.." he says surveying the countryside around him. Hmm. Polar Bears. On snow. "I was considering using some of the local fauna as target practice.. but they seem to be blending in too much with the scenery. Perhaps someone could put some targets on them? Branding them or painting, I don't know. Whatever works best for you." Yes, he IS the highest ranking of the trio. ANd yes, he IS doing the thinking. But that means that you suckers have to do all the work! Isn't the hierachy of the Empire grand?

By now, the overzealous Technobot is well within visual range, an azure glow coming from his cockpit. This is the projection of Strafe's map, which illustrates the region's topography in a luminous azure wire frame that is marred by a bold red dot. This is, of course, Strafe's current location, as it progress rapidly across the plain of light. Though, the Decepticons will not likely notice these details, they should certainly pick up on Strafe's little beacon...or target, as the case may be. To make matters worse for the Technobot gunner, he seems to have disabled the sound reducing portion of his jet thrusters. So, the air speeder is progressing toward the enemy like a teenage driver to loud music, completely unaware. If only the Decepticons could hear the noise in Strafe's own mind, as he constantly rehearses his patrol pattern, makes mental note of surrounding weather patterns, and reminds himself of his volunteer work later that day.

"Wouldn't we have to find them to paint them?" Fulcrum replies in his usual low tones. "And having found them, couldn't we just shoot them?" Fulcrum crosses his arms in front of his chest. "I still think we should have picked up some of those "penguin" things on route. No doubt these large predators would be lured in by the promise of such a meal" The drone of Strafe's engines is on the edge of Fulcrum's hearing, but he doesn't seem to notice it. After all, he's used to the constant noise from air-patrols over New Crystal City.

Luckily for Strafe, Fleet is not an audile - that is to say, hearing isn't his primary sense. "If the object is to try and hit a target under adverse circumstances, isn't it good that they blend in with their background? I thought we didn't WANT this to be too easy." Sure, Comcast may be in charge, but it is Decepticon nature to do a fair bit of bickering anytime they aren't in immediate danger of being blasted for doing so. Besides, he did say 'Whatever works best for you,' and since Fleet didn't bring paint, painting the polar bears certainly does not work best. He turns to look at Fulcrum, being an equal opportunity bickerer, "Besides, the penguin stop would have increased our flight time considerably." He does not add, "Because you're slower than a cybersnail," but it's implied.

"For the last time, Fulcrum, NO PENGIUNS." Comcast says like a stern parent. "Fleet, the idea was to paint /some/ of the bears, not all. Fulcrum, Shooting them point blank would train you for nothing, luring them out to be picked up would be fun, but not good for training, and as for where the bears are.. fine-tune your colour definition on your optics and you be able to see some over.. Did anyone else hear that?" Comcast's audio units are almost certainly the most sensitive of the trio, he's a communications officer after all. He looks about, trying to identify the source of the noise. Comcast was pretty sure he confirmed there was no air traffic in the area before he agreed to this location. "Decepticons..." He murmers, "Weapons powered up." Comcast starts charging his arm rifles while a faint hum can be heard as he powers up his speakers.

After absorbing his daily itinerary for the third or fourth time during this trip, Strafe finally finds a moment of clarity, one in which he reminds himself to focus on the matter at hand. With that realization, that he is doing less than is expected of him, the Technobot suddenly slows, reducing the fiery display from his thrusters, along with its boisterous soundtrack. But, Strafe is quickly thrown back into panic mode, as his diminished speed allows the data from his scanners to flood in with three strong signals detected. "Decepticons!" the air speeder emits, surprised to find them in such close proximity to him. Assaulted by a string of anxious thoughts, Strafe reprimands himself for what must have been daydreaming, assuring himself to be more vigilant in the future. With that, comes the pressure of performance in battle, as thousands of different strategies enter Strafe's mind. But, he can only settle on one, an ungraceful and dangerous fall to the icy tundra. Unable to actually decide, the Technobot gunner launches the beginnings of an aerial strike, which ceases when he abruptly decides to transform. Even before the sequence is complete, an unfinished arm is reaching for Strafe's blasters, which causes the mass of forming to lose its balance and unceremoniously plummet. After an embarrassing rather than painful crash, Strafe sends up something of a flare, as he declares in his deepest voice, "Decepticons, this is your first and final warning. Cease your advance into these free territories and return to whatever hole you crawled out of!"

The cockpit of the advanced air speeder separates from the base, leaving behind two bridges of white metal. As metal pieces strip away and reconfigure, limbs emerge and the Autobot known of Strafe is what remains.

Fulcrum looks up. Oh great. An Autobot. You come out, to the middle of nowhere, to peacefully murder some polar bears, and what happens? Some nosy do-gooder sticks their sensors where they don't belong. This is NOT the kind of target practice he had in mind. Like a good Deceptigoon, he powers up his head rays with an audible hum, the nozzles steaming in the cold air. He glances at Comcast, waiting for the order to engage.. or to just hang back and reason this one out. I mean, surely the Autobots don't care THAT much about bears, right?

Fleet powers up his weapons and turns on his antigravs, hesitating and glancing at Comcast before actually taking off. Sure, it wasn't included in his orders, but he really, really hated being caught on the ground for a fight. He twists as he rises, reconfiguring into tetrajet mode, but doesn't actually attack just yet, waiting for permission from his superior to engage.

Comcast sneers at the Autobot who plummets through the sky, like... a really.. big robot. Or something. "Ah yes, Strafe, right?" The Seeker says, remembering the Autobot from a prior encounter. "Nice entrance. Perhaps the landing dislodged your numerical processor? You appear to be somewhat outnumbered, Autobot, and facing three who are more competent in the environment."

<Decepticon> Comcast says, "Fleet, I do not want you to falter here. We have the advantage of numbers, and our confidence is an added strength to the situation."

<Decepticon> Comcast says, "Fulcrum, if Fleet fails in this, kill him."

<Decepticon> Fleet doesn't reply, but instead emits an, "Understand and will obey" code. Really loudly.

<Decepticon> Fulcrum *long pause*. "No."

Surprised by the strength of his own voice, Strafe smiles to himself, taking one positive out of his embarrassing arrival on what may quickly turn into a battle ground. Still, there are plenty of negatives that the Technobot does not forget and they lurk in the back of his mind, causing him to ruminate and arrive at new failures. For instance, when he should be closely monitoring the reaction of the Decepticon presence, Strafe is evaluating the accuracy of his attempted aerial attack. The steam and smoke that rises from snow, the gunner notes, is indeed far from any of the three Decepticons. So, the Technobot only catches a portion of what Comcast says. "Wha?" he asks stupidly. Still, Strafe knows it was some strike against his honour, as humiliation begins to burn in his circuitry. So, he compensates, levelling a blaster at Comcast, clearly the leader, "You were warned..."

Strafe misses Comcast with its Single Heat-Ray Carbine (Minimum Setting) attack.

Well, that does it. Strafe's opened fire, and the waste has hit the extraction fan. Still, Comcast's orders to KILL Fleet seem somewhat.. unhinged to Fulcrum. It's rare for him to disobey a direct order, but in this case? Comcast sounds like he needs some of Galvatron's "medicine". Firing his boot jets and kicking up a huge cloud of steam, he ascends, moving to flank the Autobot (no attack)

Pyramid Jet (Fleet), worrying about Comcast's recently transmitted orders, attacks... with a vengeance! No, just with his rockets, which he unleashes against the Autobots after speeding his way and swooping down, releasing the weapons during the nadir of his dive.

Strafe evades your rocket attack.

Comcast DID say for Fulcrum to kill Fleet, but it wasn't quite serious! Nevermind.. Comcast has more important things, namely a blaster in his face. "Ah, I suppose I was. But so were you, Autobot." He says, as he quickly explains himself to Fulcrum via a radio transmission. "It didn't have to go down this way, you know." He says, almost sounding sincere. Poor deluded Autobots. Comcast lines up his own arm-mounted rifle, sending a quick blast in the direction of Strafe, hoping to scare him away before things start /really/ going bad.

Comcast strikes Strafe with Energy Rifle! (Low).

Comcast transmits a message via radio.

Fulcrum receives a radio transmission.

After trying to recapture the machismo from his first declaration, Strafe finds that lightning strikes twice, again shocked at the intimidation in his voice. He tries to keep the streak alive, while he discharges round after round from his weapon, "Look, Decepticon...I'm not here to trade insults." In an effort to appear as if he knows what he's talking about, Strafe recalls the map he studied and tries to deduce the Decepticon strategy, "You will not be allowed to approach the oil fields here." All this time, the Technobot has been firing at Comcast, but just as shots get close to the squad leader, they trail away toward the other Decepticons, exposing Strafe's indecision. However, any decision, along with Strafe's spray of laser fire, is put on hold, as he hears the whistling of rocket most likely headed in his direction. Though he acts quickly enough to sprint from its path, the Technobot runs smack dab into the Comcast's rifle fire. Having to dive down into the snow to avoid any further retaliation, Strafe brandishes his other blaster. With one in each hand, he rises again, to find that he only has two targets now: Comcast and Fleet. Of course, Strafe is unaware of Fulcrum's manoeuvre.

Strafe unleashes its Duel Heat-Ray Carbine (Full automatic) attack on Fleet and Comcast, striking Comcast and Fleet.

Fulcrum mutters into his radio as he flanks Strafe, closing in on the Autobot as he opens fire on his comrades. Taking his hammer from its chain on his belt, Fulcrum raises his other hand, sending a heat ray of his own at Strafe while he's distracted.

Fulcrum strikes Strafe with Heat Ray <Low>.

Comcast is busy acting smugly about the fact that there is three of them that he doesn't react in time to the secondary assault from Strafe. "Ghaah. Shoot one of us if it makes you feel better, Autobot.. you're still going to be junk in the artic!" He spits, returning the blast with a full charge from both arm rifles. Fulcrum can line him up, and Comcast will take him out.

Comcast misses Strafe with his Energy Rifle! (High) attack.

Bullets rip through Fleet's three wings, tearing several holes. His vocalizer emits an involuntary cry of pain, and he even breaks his No Talking In Combat rule to make a brief broadcast to the other two seekers. He transforms and spins in the air lengthwise, his legs swinging up past his head so that he's once more facing Strafe, mentally swearing as his moves lack their usual grace. Still he's able to stretch his arms towards the Autobot and fire his shoulder-mounted weaponry.

You strike Strafe with Shoulder-Mounted Lasers (pulsed mode).

<Decepticon> Fleet says, "That was a pretty bad hit I took, guys. He tore into my low armor form."

Fulcrum transmits a message via radio to Comcast.

Comcast receives a radio transmission.

Lamborghini Countach LP500S arrives from the Western Provinces - Canada to the south.

Lamborghini Countach LP500S has arrived.

It takes.. a loooong time to get to the back of beyond. And this, precisly is where the red car is heading. Complaining about general road conditions aside, he's making phenominal speeds. Then again, he's a firm believer that the speed limit is more a simple suggestion for other beings who haven't the penchant and ability to move as fast as he can. Zoom Zoom...

Now fully armed, Strafe, first on one knee, unleashes a flurry of searing heat blasts, tiny pellets of glowing energy. Feeling the heat in his own face, the Technobot gunner allows a bestial grunt, rising to his full height when he finds success. Mentally, he pauses to celebrate, surprised in the accuracy of each of his hands. Of course, this causes each pistol to trail off, as well as Fulcrum to go unnoticed. Having only just found his feet again, Strafe finds himself struck to the ground once again with smoke rising off of his chest plate. The force of Fulcrum's attack thwarts Comcast's efforts, but fortunately for Fleet, his attack is not launched until the Technobot is reduced to sitting in the snow. Just when Strafe is about to utter his "Thanks" to Fulcrum, he finds his chest plate being shot up once more, courtesy of Fleet. Still, once Strafe rolls out of the line of fire, his growing frustration is still focused on Fulcrum. He says nothing, just runs, leaps, and tries to bring the Decepticon back down to Earth.

Strafe strikes Fulcrum with Lightning Punch.

Fulcrum graahs, as, closing on the Technobot, he finds that his opponent has a similar idea, the green seeker being driven back down to earth in a spray of snow by the impact of Strafe's frame. "Get OFF!" Fulcrum grinds, lashing out with one jet-booted foot, hoping to kick his foe off him.

Fulcrum strikes Strafe with BOOT!.

Fleet isn't attacked just yet. This makes for a momentarily happier Fleet. It also allows him to recover a bit of his usual grace, executing a pretty little multi-axial twisty in order to move himself into a position to fire again at Strafe without hitting Fulcrum. He keeps his left arm extended and trained on the Autobot during the whole maneuver, firing when it's completed.

You strike Strafe with Shoulder-Mounted Laser Rifle (Low).

Comcast makes a note to commend Fulcrum for the flanking position. "Fleet.. try and focus for one of his arm weapons. He is relying on them too much, and disarming him could make this a much quicker affair." He says to the yellow memeber of the traffic light trio. Of EEEEBIL. The STOP-sign coloured seeker, however, decides to fire up his shriekers aiming for one of Strafe's guns weapons himself.

Comcast misses Strafe with his Sonic Shriekers! attack.

You know, ganging up on people is hardly fair. Looks like the trio of stoplight seekers may be in for a little surprise down the road. As Strafe may look alone, but isn't really. Vroom vroom goes the red car streaking across the desolate landscape, bearing down on the source of seekernastiness with the giddy delight of the toddler who found the pots and pans and is about to beat them all together.

Just after making contact with Fulcrum in mid air, Strafe realises he is ignoring the two other Decepticons...that he is not doing this right. Even as he is taking his opponent hard into the ground, he is contemplating what to do about Comcast and Fleet. Though he should attempt to quickly disable his current dancing partner, he reaches to re-brandish a light-pulse blaster, again trying to do too much too quickly that he in fact loses sight of the easier path. With one hand trying to keep Fulcrum down, Strafe turns to take aim, only to have it violently disrupted by an unpleasant foot to the chest. As if it were part of some preconceived Decepticon game plan, the Technobot gunner is ejected straight into Fleet's barrage of fire. Landing hard, Strafe wants to take a moment to groan at the increasing number of scorch marks. But there on his back, he is forced to move as Comcast also has him in his sights. To avoid harm, Strafe transforms and rockets out of the way and on collision course with Fleet...

Strafe tucks tightly together, his limbs locking into place as he transforms into his aerial form.

Aircar <Strafe> strikes you with ram for 13 points of damage.

Fulcrum gets to one knee, shaking the snow from his form like an angry green robotic dog. Pausing to watch Strafe getting shot with a certain amount of grim satisfaction, the Blacksmith rises to his feet, taking a moment while his opponent is distracted to look around and assess the situation, looking for another chance to force the Autobot into his comrade's line of fire. But.. what's that red blip? And is it getting closer? Frowning, Fulcrum fires his boot jets, becomming airborne in a huge cloud of steam, rising to survey this new potential threat (no attack)

Mirage nodded as he transformed into his vehicle mode.

Comcast assumes that the last hit Fleet took puts him out for the count, likewise, Fulcrum is now distracted by something else. Either way, that just leaves him and Strafe. Comcast better make this count. He adjusts his sonics to send out a pulse rather than a single stream, to hopefully catch the Technofighter in the sky.. and hoping like anything that this works.

Comcast misses Aircar <Strafe> with his Sonic Shriekers! (Pulse) attack.

Ow! Ow Ow OW! He's hit hard by Strafe and knocked to the ground, much of his outer shell crumpling, to paraphrase Fulcrum, like tin. He shakes a bit, wings trembling as differing fears battling with each other for dominance in his mind. The immediate fear takes prominence, and he leaps to the air, radioing a brief message to his fellows as he does.

<Decepticon> Fleet says, "This is stupid. I'm not going to die over a training mission, Comcast."

Fleet begins retreating, leaving himself vulnerable to parting shots from Comcast, Lamborghini Countach LP500S, Aircar <Strafe>, Fulcrum.

"Stuck on patrol again, and in a wilderness Hound would adore" the blue and white racing car sighed to himself as he drove along a nearby road. Suddenly the sound of gunfire, and not the human type hits his audio receptors and the car turns, driving fast in that direction. "Let me guess" the Autobot spy added quietly as he fast approached the battle-field "Decepticons again"

Passing straight through the first Decepticon he encounters in his air speeder form, Strafe just keeps on trucking, though not without suffering some damage himself. A trail of scorched armour plates are stripped away like leaves, as the Technobot gunner accelerates to attack speeds. With Comcast next in line, Strafe powers up his main guns, hoping to beat the Decepticon to the punch. He doesn't and finds himself caught in a wave of sound, unleashed in all directions. All the Technobot can do is grin and bare it. To his own surprise, Strafe finds the assault does not slow his progress or knock out any of his systems. Bolstered by this accomplishment, he cuts loose, once again shooting wildly with lines of concentrated light.

Aircar <Strafe> misses Comcast with its Disruptor Beam attack.

Comcast curses as he misses his target.. but doesn't afford an opportunity for Strafe to return fire. He transforms and takes off after him, tailing the technobot in the air. "Don't think that just because I lost my accomplices that I still can't beat you, Autobot." He calmly states in a matter-of-fact tone, sending a volley of energy blasts through the air.

Comcast strikes Aircar <Strafe> with Energy Rifle! (High).

Here's a blip, there's a blip.. Here's the red blip moving even closer and most assuredly not going anywhere near the speed limit posted. Poor Fulcrum, he chose to fly upwards like a bird flushed from cover. And like any good hunter, the red one is ready to fire at will.. or seeker as the case may be. Here seeker seeker seeker... Boot panel opens, electrical rifle rises upwards, swivels and lets loose with a brilliant flare-flash of electricity sent streaking heavenswards. After all, green means go, right?

Lamborghini Countach LP500S strikes Fulcrum with Green means go, right? *zot*.

Comcast's arms move towards his back as his chest and wings shift themselves until he once again resembles an F-15 fighter jet.

As no one decides to attack the yellow light of Eeebil, Fleet manages to get away without taking further damage. He rockets upwards and starts to head home, internally dreading the repercussions he'll have to deal with later.

* Spinny! *

NCC Medical Ward

The Crystal City repair bay is far larger than previous versions in Imperial Headquarters or Trypticon himself. Clearly it was designed by a medic, for a medic. The entire room is rectangular in nature with medical beds arranged in a neat grid pattern. The beds themselves vary, with some being precious little more than metal slabs, and others having full scanners and tools attached, as well as everything in between. In total, there are about twenty beds. There is room for more in an emergency situation. The cabinets line the walls, spaced out between medical terminals. Everything has a place, and organization is key. With battle mode being initiated, the huge windows are covered up as the bay is encased in metal for its own protection. Access can still be gained with the right codes, however. Red warning lights flash on and off.

Contents:

Scrapper's Art <SA> - Fourteen Pieces

MSE CO OFFICE (Earth)

Gumby Medic <NCC>

Obvious exits:

South <S> leads to NCC Central Command.

Southeast <SE> leads to NCC Central Hub.

East <E> leads to Mount R'Lyeh.

Mixmaster has connected.

Fleet plods in, far heavier on his feet than normal. He has recently suffered badly in combat, and sadly, it only took two hits. But they were two powerful hits, leaving his wings badly torn and the front portions of his shell badly crumpled. He's also looking none-too-happy, thinking about Comcast's threat, and wondering if Comcast will find someone else to carry out his order, since Fulcrum refused.

<Decepticon> Comcast's wit-processors are shut off! "If there is someone looking to.. um.. hit.. some Autobots.. they can. Because they are here in Alaska with us."

<Decepticon> Catechism just happens to be in the area. How convenient! And what Decepticon isn't looking to hit Autobots? Well, aside from... nevermind. "Acknowledged and in the area. Will see you there."

<Decepticon> Comcast says, "Yes, well, make like a tree and... get here."

Fleet glances in a general upwards direction somewhat curiously at Comcast's somewhat uncharacteristic transmissions, but simply shrugs in response, pulling himself onto one of the meditables.

Mixmaster looks up from the shift-officer's bench as Flee plods in. Hmm.. he can't remember people so good, but a pastel yellow anyone, let alone a seeker? "Told you it's good to be a Seeker." He snickers to himself. "Plenty of parts." He grabs his scanner. "Soo. What's ailin' ya?"

Fleet looks down at his crumpled front side and flicks his bullet-riddled wings. "Training mission gone badly," he mumbles, a bit embarrassed. Not too much, because it's better to be alive and hurt than dead from a training mission, of all things. "Autobots showed up. I decided I'd rather not die over what was supposed to be target practice. That would be... a pretty moronic way to go."

Mixmaster pulls out a medical scanner and runs a check on Fleet.

Arachnae has arrived.

Fleet is... still sitting quietly on the table, after having replied to Mixmaster's question. Mreh. ICly, still has crumpled front section and torn wings, because he didn't realize he'd be mobbed by actual player medics the moment he walked in here.

Arachnae stumbles out of her lab-office, covered in random streaks of paint against her purple and green magnificance and grinning like a madmech. She strikes a classic 'triumph' pose, wings spread out behind her (also painted with myraiod streaks like a rainbow after too many beers) and raises fists, "YES! Now I need test subjects! Yes! One step closer to... Oh..." she was talking to herself up until the point she noticed that there were others in the area. "Oh.. erm.." sheepish look, wings folding in behind her. "Hello there."

Fleet looks up as Arachnae emerges, flinching at the reference to test subjects. If he were less hurt than he is, he would definatly think about running away at the moment. "Erm. Hello, Arachnae," he answers, nodding politely.

Mixmaster caught you monologuing, Nae! "Arachnae.." Mixmaster says in a formal and articulate voice.. almost to the point of mocking.. "It is common practice that /I/ am the erratic one, and /you/ are the.." He sighs, "/Sane/ one. I hope that there isn't any confusion on your part?" With that he continues repairing Flee. Cowardice isn't exactly rewarded in the empire, but because Fleet ran away he's that much quicker to repair.

Arachnae settles and resettles her wings behind her in a semi flustered sense. "Oh." Blink as she nodes to Fleet, offering an odd half smile before attention flicks to Mixmaster. "/I/ am the commanding officer and as such, I can be whichever one is necessary at the time, Mixmaster."

Mixmaster's optics bulge. "Oh /really?/ so am I expected to be sane now?" he says. "Because there isn't really a switch for me to change to and from." Mixy should know, he took it out years ago. He starts filling up the bullet-riddled portion of Fleet's frame with a special liquid of his on concoction. It's quite painful, but /very/ effective, and fills up the hole and solidifies in about thirty seconds.

Fleet looks from Mixmaster to Arachnae, back to Mixmaster. Based on his personal experience, he would have marked HOOK as the insane one, but he isn't inclined to argue with anyone who is in the process of repairing him. He holds still, watching what's being done to him with mild interest, but having never really studied how his own insides work, it's all rather meaningless to him. He flinches at the pain as the holes in his frame are filled.

Arachnae chuckles as she pads over to watch the of questionale sanity engineer at work. "Not at all. You're expected to be what you are, my dear chemist." Wings rustle behind her, spearing paint that's still at the point of drying about. "Hmmm.. What happened to you, Fleet?"

Fleet droops noticeably, trying to shake off the pain of Mixmaster's administrations. Okay, let's work through the humiliation once more. "Training mission gone badly. An Autobot showed up while we were out for target practice." And he hit the Autobot! Twice! Unfortunately, the Autobot hit him twice, and hurt him lots.

Arachnae ahhs, "Training mission gone horribly wrong.. It happens on occasion. At least.. and no offense, only one of you came back damaged." She offers a smile. "And if you learned something from it, all is well."

Mixmaster decides to add to Arachnae's statement. "Only one came back damaged.. SO FAR.." He grimly states as he carefully flattens out the dented panelwork on Flee. With a mallet.

Fleet learned something, certainly. He learned NOT TO LISTEN TO FULCRUM AND COMCAST WHEN THEY SUGGEST SHOOTING AT THINGS IN AUTOBOT TERRITORY FOR TRAINING, dammit! Still, his only response is a serious nod. "All life is learning... or should be for anyone who wants to keep living it." he says, his voice calm despite the fact that he had even pointed out to Fulcrum the fact that going to that region for training might not be the best idea. That'll learn him not to trust Fulcrum's 'superior experience with this planet.'

Mixmaster has disconnected.

Arachnae gives a shake of her head, watching Mixmasters less than gentle minustrations to the seekers damage. "Exactly, Fleet." She smiles, absently picking up a small spanner and stepping over to help finish the repairs up.

Fleet shuts off his optics and grabs onto the side of the table, grunting occasionally. He doesn't deal with pain well, dammit! Still, he doesn't ask Mixmaster or Arachnae to go gentler on him, realizing that this is for his own good.

Arachnae headtilts.. and waves Mixmaster off as she picks up osmething off of a counter.. and injects Fleet with it. "Hate it when patients twitch. Mild neuro-inhibitor. Should make you numb." She eyes the cannister after the injection, "And possible see flying pink tanks too." Smirk.

Fulcrum arrives from the NCC Central Hub to the southeast.

Fulcrum has arrived.

Oh, lovely. Because when his mental facilities aren't working at optimal performance is generally the moment Geist likes to show up. On the other hand, given his last encounter with the Sweep while he was at full cognitive capacity, maybe he needs to exhibit a bit more erratic behavior around him. That was last time was just downright WEIRD. "I... keep that in mind, Arachnae. If I can."

Arachnae gives a shrug, "None the worry, my dear Fleet. The rest shouldn't take too long to finish up. It's just uncomfortable." She flexes talonso ut, her tool of choice, and gets back to work sealing up errant patches of broken seeker.

Fulcrum trudges into medbay, one arm hanging uselessly by his side, his frame covered in dents, scratches and scorch-marks, with one large wound sparking on his shoulder.

Fleet's optics remain shut off, while he mmmms a bit. "Doesn't feel so bad any more," he murmurs. Due to the lack of power being applied to his visual receptors, he has yet to be aware of Fulcrum's arrival.

Arachnae chuckles, "It shouldn't feel all that bad, maybe some pressure in odd areas. A pinch here and there, nothing painful, just odd." With a flicker-zot of electricity, she welds the seeker closed.

Fulcrum hauls himself onto a medbay without a word, his two underlings Kitbash and Scratchbuild scurrying over to fix the surly blacksmith. "You know, while we're at it..." Kitbash begins. "No" interrupts Fulcrum. "No extra fins, no new anntennae, no "speed holes", and NO new paint job."

Fleet giggles softly as he hears Fulcrum. "Guess I'm not the only one to land here, after all. Just the first." For his part, he's not too worried about a new paint job. That's easy to fix, after all, and at the moment he's not too inclined to worry about much, anyway. Extra appendages are a concern, because they might interfere in the dance, but so far Arachnae has yet to steer him wrong. Poor, naive little Seeker...

The poor seeker is perfectly safe in the sweeply medics clutches. She has her own agenda on her mind, and as such, focuses on simply setting him to rights. A glance is spared Fulcrum as he is brought in, "What the slag happened to you?"

Fulcrum regards Arachnae for a lonnnng moment as Scratchbuild begins work on his injuries. "Target practice" he finally replies, staring back at the all-too-familiar ceiling.

Fulcrum asks Gumby Medic <NCC> to fix him.

Gumby Medic <NCC> begins work on Fulcrum's injuries.

Fulcrum has disconnected.

Fleet grins slightly, a bit foolishly. "This has proven to be quite a learning experience, I think. And I have learned to watch where I go for target practice!"

Arachnae chuckles as she welds, "Location is as important as the target itself. Especially when one has to keep in mind the numerous hostiles."

Fleet sighs very softly. "My apologies. I just sort of assumed that Fulcrum and Comcast knew what they were doing when they picked Alaska, what with their having been on the planet so much longer than myself. I'll not make that mistake again." If he were thinking clearly, he might not have blurted that out when he knew was nearby, but hey. He turns his head slightly. "What's tha- ah, nothing. Optics still off-line."

Arachnae rustles her wings, chuckling softly as she works on smoothing the fresh welds out. "They probably knew what they were doing, just didn't plan well enough in advace. It happens."

"Yes, I suppose it does," answers the no-longer-quite-as-yellow-one (what with all the lumps and bumps and fresh welds on him and all). He pauses, looks like he's about to say something else, then doesn't, drifting off into his own thoughts.

Arachnae smoochs welds out, polishing the surface in prep to take new paint. "Any ID on which bots were there to ruin your parade?"

Fleet hrrrrms softly. "Hmm. Technobot, I think. Strafe? I'm not sure. He rammed me pretty hard. Knocked me out of the sky." The bullets were bad enough, but the ram? That's actually something he's not used to deal with.

Arachnae hrns.. "have to add that to his file then. Strafe.. Technobot.. Will ram. Interesting tactic."

Fleet mutters grumpily, "S'not supposed to do that. Forceful physical contact isn't allowed. Light taps. It takes no grace to ram! Damned Autobots." He continues to mutter something else, something about rules.

Arachnae headtilts.. and won't push the drugged seeker to say anything. She's just here to make sure he's all nice and ready for primer and topcoat. "I think that about does it. You should rest for a cycle or two before going back out."

Arachnae pulls out a medical scanner and runs a check on Fleet.

Fleet turns his optics on, flickers them as he sees something very odd, then turns them back off again. Oooookay. Silly drugs. "Thank you, Arachnae. I imagine I can wait until later."

Arachnae nods, wry smile crossing her face as she preps the reversal of the inhibitor. "This might.. sting a little." A flick of wings and the antidote is given.

Fleet yips slightly at the sting, then nods. "How long will it take?" he asks. "And not going out... does that include flying?"

Arachnae flicks wings, "That includes flying. Your systems have to adjust to the minor alterations of your main surfaces prior to engaging in anything even remotly strenuous. Which means, grounded for the next cycle, open for light duty the cycle after."

"Gr-grounded?" Fleet groans. He shudders as he sits up. "I... er..." he starts to try and find reason to argue, but realizes he really doesn't have a leg to stand on. He droops again, this time more-so than he had earlier. "As you command, Arachnae," he murmurs dejectedly.

Arachnae headtilts, shifting wingpanels behind her as she studies the seekers body language. "Get yourself resurfaced and repainted. ANd stay out of the air for half a cycle, alright?" pause, smirk, "and don't let the rest of your wing members know I let you out of here with a half cycle grounding."

Fleet brightens noticably at that, looking up to smile at the semi-Sweep. "I won't, Arachnae, and thank you! That... really does mean a lot to me, and I'll be sure to be careful." He looks at his wing as best he can and rubs one of the fresh weld spots. "Resurfacing is a good idea, anyway..." Even small changes can have a big effect on aerodynamics, but Arachnae would be very familiar with that fact and he need not mention it.

Arachnae grins crookedly, the expression taking some of her usual severity away. "I'll be in my office if you need me, Fleet. And yes, resurfaceing is a good idea. There's some fine grit in the yellow cabinet and a rotary sander as well."

Fleet stands up, heading to the indicated cabinet. "All right. And thanks again, Arachnae." He opens it up and looks inside, searching for the necessary tools.

Arachnae waves a taloned hand, "Part of my job, Fleet. All part of a cycles work."

Technically speaking, Arachnae didn't have to push Mixmaster out of the way and take over herself, and she certainly didn't have to cut his grounding in half, but he doesn't mention this out loud. He only smiles to himself, continuing to rustle through the yellow cabinat. The yellow light of EEEEBIL will be back in the air soon enough, to once more rain ter- well, fire a few shots and then intelligently and tactically remove himself from battle with the Autobots!

Arachnae turns her oddly painted self about and heads back to her office, humming to herself. A rare sign that toher, all is right with the world.

================================= Decepticon =================================

Message: 2/1 (timeout warning) Posted Author

WORDS Sun Jan 09 Comcast

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Comcast is damaged! Singe marks and dents throughout his body. While he reports, there is a nearly-drained energon cube behind him in the repair bay.

"On a training mission to Alaska, Fulcrum, Fleet and I ran into the Autobots. Strafe decided to live up to his namesake.. and.. uh.. attack us." wtf? "Strafe was later joined by Mirage and Sideswipe, and we received backup from Catechism. My fellow Seeker and I were like greased.." He actually stops for a long pause here.. "I'm sorry.. I mean we were really fast. Yeah. But not fast enough, the Autobots took many of us out like.. like /something./ At the end it was just Catechism and myself, and I ran out of.. I MEAN I SAVED HER."

Comcast is starting to realise how silly this is all sounding, so he doesn't bother finishing the report and just turnst he camera off, shaking his head. And, if you're wondering why Comcast is sounding so funny? Ask!

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