<Decepticon> Arachnae says, "Fulcrum, are you near NCC medical?"

<Decepticon> Fulcrum says, "...I am standing next to the second table from the left, Commander."

<Decepticon> Arachnae says, "Oh...."

<Decepticon> Fulcrum coughs.

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:

Ariadnae Drone

Arachnae

Fulcrum

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.

"It.. is not my area of expertise" Fulcrum reminds her warily. "But if you require assistance.." He glances down at the thing scurrying around the floor, suppressing a shudder. Ugh. Bugs. Still, at least it's not a turbo-cockroach. Those are the worst.

Arachnae smirks, "Nothing to do with the hands on programming, Fulcrum. Just some thngs I need another person in the area for." Wings flick behind her as she smiles craftily.

Fleet wanders in, not nearly so worn as he was yesterday, but tired still, having spent most of the on patrol. He's probably hoping to grab a quick refuel.

Fulcrum hms. Yeah, that sounds REAL promising. But Fulcrum is nothing if not loyal, and Arachnae is the head of MSE. "Very well" he replies, still having small flashbacks to the time turbo roaches got into the cleaning supplies. "I shall assist you in whatever way you deem necessary" His optics flicker towards Fleet as he enters medbay, continuing "...as I'm sure will any other Decepticons in the immediate vicinity". After all.. misery loves company.

Arachnae chuckles softly, turning to look and see who else has come into her parlou.. ermm.. the medical area. Optics gleam with amusement at Fulcrums less than enthusiastic response, however, she doesn't seem to be in the mood to let that bother her. "Excellent." hands clap together, "this sould go far faster with two of you!"

Fleet jumps, startled, as attention turns towards him. He gives the others a deer-in-the-headlights look for a moment before 'hemming.' "Well... depending on what's required of me, it may be a good idea to let me refuel quickly, first. I've been on patrol most this cycle..."

Fulcrum takes advantage of Fleet's distraction to ask, "So.. what exactly will this test entail?"

Arachnae grins... yes.. grins.. for a moment, rocking back and forth on her heels like a kid about to show everyone the coolest game evar!*tm.. "You.. stand there.. And after Fleet gets a mug of energon... Stand over there." She grins again, bending down to twiddle with the spider-esque drone at her heels.

FLEET take's advantage of the distraction provided by Fulcrum's question that took advantage by Fleet's distraction to grab a mug of energon. And if anyone else can follow that sentence, they're doing better than the person who wrote it. The yellow seeker nods over his mug, and walks over to the indicated spot, shifting from one foot to another nervously.

Fulcrum wonders just how much trouble he'd be in if he "accidently" were to crush that drone under one jet-mounted boot. Too much, he decides. Nodding, he remains stationary, crossing his arms over his chest.

Ariadnae Drone emits a series of high pitched beeps as Arachnae opens a panel and starts switching wires about between connectors. "It's just a simple thing I need you two to do.. Really." Still grinning as she pitches her voice a bit higher, "Computer, seal medical, command clearence only. Forcefield all operating areas and cabinets." -beeeep-click-click-click-slam-

Fleet's optics widen, and he gulps down his mug as quickly as he can. For a moment he wonders when his function got changed from "Warrior" to "Test Subject," before he reminds himself that when you're a low-ranking Seeker, they often amount to the same thing. His mistake these days is in the company he keeps.

Fulcrum's optics flicker from side to side as all exits are sealed, fighting the urge to panic, channeling the fear into a deep frown. Surely it's just to keep the drone from escaping. Surely.

Arachnae waves a taloned hand as she straightens herself, "No need to panic, gentlemechs, that's just to keep it from getting out." Still grinning, she keeps grinning and grinning. "Now." She peers at Fulcrum, then Fleet, then Fulcrum thoughtfully. "Fulcrum, state name rank and current operating parameters. When he is done, Fleet, you do the same." She sidesteps from the drone-thing, murmuring, "Initiate learning sequence 'Friend or Foe'." The drone beep-clicks.. and skitters underneath a table.

Fulcrum hrmfs. "Name - Fulcrum" he drones. "Rank - MSE Shocktrooper. Operating Parameters - Research and Design, unless prempted by the need for emergency medical response." The dour blacksmith eyes the drone, waiting for something interesting to happen.

Fleet missed the first part of the discussion, the bit that provided what details of what is going on as might be available, but he does notice the focus seems to be on the drone, which he watches warily, lowering his now emptied mug. After a slight cough he speaks, actually a bit louder and clearer than normal. "Name - Fleet. Rank - Grunt. Operating Parameters - Combat, Patrol."

Arachnae crosses her arms across her front, leaning back against an empty table and remaining motionless. She's watching.. and the control as it were.

Ariadnae Drone sticks the forward set of legs out from under the table, waving them to and fro before creeping out, hunched down into the floor. There is a near constant series of soft whirrs, clicks and beeps emiting from the thing as it 'listens' to Fulcrum, sensory array pointed at that mechanoid.. then slowly turns to point itself at Fleet as he speaks. The legs waver before a tinny voice emits from it, "MSE - Designated Non combatitve. Threat minimal to charge. Friend.." There is more pause... "Grunt - Designate unknown. Combat nature declared. Defend charge." It rears up on two sets of back legs... panels open up along it's underside and flanks..... -whiiir- click!

Fulcrum almost chuckles, his expression softening slightly at the sight of Fleet being menaced by the small drone. That and the fact that the "intelligence" has rated Fleet more dangerous than him, based on job description alone. A potentially fatal mistake.

Fleet takes a step or two back. "Now, wait a minute!" he exclaims. "No one said anything abou- look! Even I know damned well I'm not supposed to be engaging in combat in the medical ward!" he protests.

Arachnae shakes her head, grin fading slightly. She waves a hand, "Begin secondary testing, unit beta." she intones to the drone, optics thoughtful.

The drone remains reared up on back appendages.. and continues to wave its legs about. More clicking and whirring emit before it drops down.. and scurries for Fulcrum, darting past the mechanism, brushing a shin with a foreleg as it does so.

Fulcrum bites off a curse, jerking away from the drone. "How combat capable /is/ the unit, Arachnae?" Fulcrum scowls. "What is its function?"

Fleet appears vaguely relieved as the drone scurries away from him, but knows better than to drop his guard just yet. He turns his head and torso a bit, trying to follow the drone's actions.

Arachnae chuckles softly, optics narrowed, "Oh... It's just a beta test of an older drone design of mine, Fulcrum.. Nothing to be so worried about. " Her wings rustle behind her, panels scraping on panels. "Function?" crooked smile, "Right now, to defend me." She watches the drones movements, "Built it while I was.. assigned to Charr during that last.. event series."

Ariadnae Drone darts underneath a table, panels still open along flanks and underside. There's the sound of metal points ticking on the floor as it moves, using tables, carts and chairs as cover.. before doing the same rush by leg tapping to Fleet as it did to Fulcrum, skittering back underneath a cabinet this time.

Fulcrum hmmms, curiosity fighting fear. "So.. what would its reaction be if you were threatened? Or attacked?" He follows the drone's movements with his optics, not trusting the little skittery thing.

The yellow seeker visibly jumps as the drone-thing brushes by him, fist clenching automatically before his cognitive routines override the instinctual reaction. He forces his hand back open. "Erm... right," he says softly. "Guess we did have plenty of time to... putter about. Of course, most of mine was spent on different activities."

Arachnae ahhs softly, wings shuffling, "Haven't the foggiest. Originally the programming was simple. Voice coded attack parameters. But, having been back in the lab working on another project.. Decided to hammer out some of the paradigm issues I had with Cuddles original install. And that training drone that went haywire on Cybertron. It's in learning mode, no telling what it could do, hence the need for other test subjects in the area aside from myself. It can only learn so much from me."

Ariadnae Drone remains underneath the cabinet, clicking to itself for several moments. One leg is extended, waved about the open space before it retracts and clicks to itself again, emiting, "Signature design basic study - learning mode. Seeker models, athmospheric varient design. Probability of threat - 88%. Probability of attack - unknown."

Fulcrum looks at Fleet. "In the interest of science" he drones, "Fleet - menace Arachnae.” He looks at the little drone, then back at Fleet. This should be interesting... though he doesn't let his guard down. Knowing Arachnae, she's trained it to recognise chains of command.

Fleet stands up straight and looks at Fulcrum as though he had just sprouted wheels. "'Menace Arachnae'? But this is medical ward! I have no intention of menacing anyone while I'm in here!" He shakes his head, vocalizer emiting a soft snorting noise of annoyance, and puts his mug down on the nearest flat surface.

Arachnae shakes her head, optics glinting behind her visor at the two. She smiles to herself, refolding arms across her front.

Ariadnae Drone remains.. underneath.. somewhere.. you can hear it skittering about, creeping metal points clattering on the flooring, the scrape of a carapace on the underside of some piece of equipment. There is a moment where a soft ratcheting sound can be heard.. before the clicking of 8 foot-tips.. seems to multiply - three fold.

Fulcrum rolls his optics. "It is not difficult" he replies. "Throw something insignificant." His optics dart towards the sound, his frown darkening. "Or just step forward and make threatening noises. I didn't say you had to take any definite action."

Fleet narrows his optics as he glares at Fulcrum. "Just because it starts insignificant doesn't mean it'll stay that way. I mean, I thought the whole point of this is that we don't KNOW what that thing's capabilities are!" He looks in the direction of the skittering and frowns thoughtfully. "Is it just me, or does it sound like there's more of them?"

Arachnae slips up on a table, crouching and watching the two mechs. Her head tilts to one side, listening to them.. as well as the other noises in medical before she smiles wryly.

The skittering quiets for a moment.. and starts back up but appears to come from multiple locations now, each different levels. Wait! Was that a shadow? What... A cabinet rattles.. And more ratcheting from under a table.

"Exactly" Fulcrum replies to Fleet. "Which is why you should test their capabilities, to further our analysis of their programming." Preferably while Fulcrum stands behind this nice thick lead shield. He looks around, scowling at the noises. Ugh. MORE bugs? It certainly sounds like it. Did Arachnae give it replicatory abilities? Now THAT would be potentially dangerous, especially if she lost control of the things. "I assume this is also part of the test?" he asks the Commandrix, voice carefully neutral, though his hands have unconsciously clenched into fists.

Fleet glowers for a moment, then picks up his recently discarded mug. He studies it thoughtfully, testing it for heft. He looks from the mug to female, female to mug, as he considers, bouncing the mug in his hand. Then he stops bouncing, stops looking around, and is still for just a moment. The moment is up, and he tosses the mug - at Fulcrum.

Arachnae smiles at Fulcrum, "It's learning, Fulcrum. Threat assessment, action." She shrugs, wings rustling behind her back. Optics narrow at the thrown object.. and she leans slightly forward, watching to see what happens next.

Ariadnae Drone pokes a leg out from under a table before skittering out into the open, reared back on hind limbs. It seems somewhat thinner, perhaps sleeker than it had been. Forelimbs wave upwards and it darts for Fulcrum once more, chittering.

Behind Fleet comes the sound of more tick-tick-ticking of tiny metal tips on floor.

Fulcrum blinks, reaching out to catch the mug but failing, the metal vessel hitting the floor with a clatter. "Not at /me/" he grinds, "At.." he stops, trailing off as he notices the drone advancing. Hrm. He really shouldn't be worried. What could something that small do to him? Nevertheless, he mentally disengages the safety locks on his arm-mounted heat rays. Just in case.

"Hey, it had established you as a friend earlier." The yellow seeker looks around nervously as he speaks, shifting from one foot to another in such a way that it seems like any moment now, he might not bother with the ground at all. "I was wondering if maybe it hadn't decided to include friends in those to be defended, or something..."

Arachnae headtilts, scrutinizing the drone in the open. "Ahhhh." grin.

Ariadnae Drone skitters closer to Fulcrum, waving those forelegs at the tall seeker before it crouches down, shaking and beeping.

Behind Fleet come the sound of those other scraping feet and a smaller - oblong version of the main drone creeps towards the seekers foot, pressed low into the ground.

Fulcrum keeps his optics on the drones as he mulls Fleet's statement over. "Very well" he grudgingly admits, unfortunatly finding nothing wrong with his hypothesis. "Throw something else."

Fleet spins on one foot the moment he realizes that there's a drone behind him, the other raised just slightly, the move fluid despite it's suddenness. He crouches slightly, fingers spread, palms parallel to the floor, takes a step back, and studies the one now in front of him. "Why don't we give them a moment first?" he asked.

Arachnae grins somewhat ferally as the second.. minidrone? makes itself seen. "Interesting.. it works." Smug smile.

Ariadnae Drone remains waving a leg at Fulcrom for a moment longer before it turns, skittering sideways at the large mechanism. Underneath the 'head', below the sensory apparati, panels shift and open, dropping internal parts into place.

The oivoid with too many legs darts sideways before rushing towards Fleet's foot once more. The last 3 meters it skids then leaps up at the pale, yellow seeker, attempting to attach.

A soft whine fills the medbay as Fulcrum's heat-rays power up. "How well do the drones react to combat situations?" he asks, scowling at the little thing as it reconfigures itself, wanting to pull the trigger and melt it into a puddle

Fleet spin-twists to the side to avoid the drone-thing, but he doesn't maneuver as well when his feet touch the ground, and the thing is able to brush his torso with one of its left limbs.

Arachnae chuckles again, watching moreso the seekers reactions to the drones than the drones themselves. She taps a taloned finger against her chin. "This version hasn't been tested, Fulcrum." soft tone of voice.

The ovoid drone sails past Fleet after that brief touch, lands and skids across a table before skitters back towards him, leaping once more.

Ariadnae Drone creeps tangentally to Fulcrum, crouching down as it does so.

Fulcrum carefully follows the drone with one weapon as it approaches, heat ray set to a wide beam in case it dodges.. or jumps at his FACE. "We could test them now" he replies.

Fleet dives forward underneath the drone where he goes into a graceful tumble-roll and then comes up on one knee and one foot, turning again to face the almost-creature. At least, that was the plan. What actually happens is dive, partial-tumble, yikes!, ground!, wings-that-get-in-the-way-of-ground-rolls!, clatter-clutter-thump, and the yellow mechanoid ends lying partially on his side, partially sprawled, and facing, most definatly, away from the drone.

<OOC> Fleet says, "Dammit! Who put this floor here?"

<OOC> Arachnae blames scrapper.

Arachnae remains perched on a table like the proverbial gargoyle. Wings span and contract behind her as she simply watches really. One would think she would get bored. "You could, Fulcrum, you could."

Ariadnae Drone Rears up, waving forelegs.. before it darts for cover, chitter-clicking again. "Threat assessment re-evaluated." it emits.

The oviod drone continues its leap, and as Fleet's ungraceful roll-out-of-the-way attempt leaves his back exposed to it, it lands and sinks legtips in slightly before activating magnetic points. -click-

Fulcrum hms, frowning at the retreating drone. They /are/ clever. He was moments away from turning it into a mishapen lump of molten metal. "As enchanting as this is" he says, "I do have work to do. Fleet will have to fill in for me." He looks over at the yellow seeker lying on the floor and being lightly savaged. "In this particular case, I'm sure he's more than qualified."

Fulcrum has disconnected.

Fleet growls softly. The placement of the same wings that tripped up his roll prevent him from being able to do anything like grab the drone on his back. So instead he stands all the way up and pushes himself hard off the nearest meditable, landing with a loud crash on his back - and the drone attached to it. He crosses his arms and looks up at Arachnae from his position on the floor, waiting to see - or rather, feel - the drone's reaction.

Arachnae slides off of her table, frowning as Fulcrum decides that his part in this is over. "Party pooper." she murmurs before rounding to stare at the Fleet on the drone. "Smart move." Honest smile crosses her face, "Deactivate learning seqwuence, return to home office." she states with some small amount of authority.

Ariadnae Drone sideskitters out from under a cabinet, joins with a third?! ovoid varient and darts for her office. The ovoid under Fleet can only sink legtips in slightly more before it's thin plating suffers the effect of mass and gravity. Crush-crunch

Fleet nods from his position on the floor. "Due to pure bad luck when the random variables were being set in, I came out a bit frailer than most my type, so at times I'm forced to make up for it with your odd creative problem solving skill or two." He rolls to his side and pushes himself up. "I'm afraid I've broken this one, but it feels like the legs are still stuck... can you help me with this?"

Arachnae mantles wings behind her neatly as she pads over, looking over the damage to Fleet as well as the drone. "It's easily removed." talons extend, she pops a panel on the ovoid.. and shuts off the power links to the extremities. "Minor scuffs to your exoarmoring. Smart move, again." She pops the drone free, setting it on a table for materials reclaiming. "Thank you."

Fleet studies his defeated adversary thoughtfully. "So, uhm... if you don't mind my asking, do you have any idea what it would have done to me if I hadn't... if it had remained active?"

Arachnae shrugs, studying the squished drone, "It's not armed with anything more than sharpened legtips, magnetic holds and some acid, Fleet. Not much else than being a nuisance. Not going to arm these things until I work the bugs out, so to speak."

Fleet looks slightly relieved as he walks over to retrieve the mug thrown earlier. "That's good to hear. I was worried it would try to use me for parts, or something!"

Arachnae chuckles, starting to part the ovoid out. "No, these don't have anything in their programming for parts aquisition. The last varient did.. and that was too much trouble."

Fleet crouches down and retrieves the mug finds a cleansing unit to, well, clean it. "Well, I've got... a very vivid imagination at times, so I can kind of guess. I'm glad I avoided that model."

Arachnae smiles, tidying the small unit up and starting to weld it back together. "Someone took it upon themselves to mess with the original programing. And it went rogue. The original design that is. Kept this one smaller and less.. well, les intelligent actually." Wings flex behind her slowly.

Fleet returns the cleaned mug to its proper place. He amazes, and also worries, himself with how much he allows himself to relax around the semi-Sweep, but in her company he loses some a certain amount of his normal "ground-bound-skittishness," though he's still noticeably less confident than he is in the air. On the other hand, he did just finish a minor battle of sorts, and surviving combat always put him in a good mood. "Like how it confused my function for intent?" he asks, although the question seems more rhetorical, because before the other has a chance to answer he continues, "I suppose I should get back to patrol, Arachnae. If I was of any help, I'm glad."

Arachnae reactivates the ovoid and sets it on the floor, where it goes skittering back towards her office. "Medical - stand down lockdown." she pauses to listen to things unsealing. "Exactly. They have a bit of work. Just something to toy with when I'm stuck on part of a larger project, really." She flashes Fleet a wry smile. "Refueled and ready to patrol, eh? Good hunting then."

A tiny little smile touches Flee's mouth, but it's not sincere enough to have anything to do with the rest of his face. He wasn't really looking forward to doing back to his monotonous duty, but accepted it as part of his place. "Thank you," he replied, and for an instant the smile got more real before fleeing entirely. He turns and heads out, thinking perhaps that he'll find time for a little dance this time out.

Arachnae turns her head, watching Fleet's expressions. She offers a faint smile in return, optics a shimmery green. "More than welcome, Fleet." Wings shuffle behind her, "You know, if you just got back in from patrol.." half smile, "You don't have to go straight back out."

Fleet's optics flicker slightly in surprise at this. "I don't?" He sounds like he honestly didn't know that. Then he smiles a bit, the smile turning into a grin as a plotting expression creeps into his features. "Well, even so, I think I shall go for a fly."

Arachnae smiles again in return, "Enjoy your flight then, Fleet. Should you need me, I'll be in my office." Wings tip back and she pads towards her office.