Trypticon Medical Bay

Several operating tables are set in a row here, and long benches line the walls. On these benches are assorted tools and equipment used in repairing damaged Decepticons. The benches near the door are for patients waiting their turn for treatment. Scattered throughout the room are various repair droids, awaiting the arrival of more wounded to repair. The room gives you the perception of being immaculately clean, with not a single tool out of place. Your olfactory sensors pick up the faint odor of the cleansing solutions used to keep the room clean and sanitary.

Contents:

Fulcrum

Sign

Gumby Medic

Obvious exits:

East <E> leads to Trypticon Laboratory.

West <W> leads to Trypticon Main Hallway.

Two jet-engines/antigrav units lie on the med table in front of Fulcrum, the blacksmith hunched over his work, a strange visor-like device clamped over his eyes. Sparks fly from a micro-welder as he puts the finishing touches on his upgrade. Or at least one part of it.

My, but Fulcrum has been busy lately! Fleet had had no idea this much work went into an upgrade of this kind, being fortunate enough to leave that sort of thing to other people. The pastel seeker arrives and walks over to the energon dispensing unit, helping himself to a mug of energon before wandering in Fulcrum's direction to look at what he's doing. It may not make much sense to him, but these things sure do look cool!

Fulcrum makes another connection, producing a spray of sparks. Frowning, he tilts up the visor to peer at his work. "Hn" he grunts, shutting the panel. That should be sufficient. Suddenly realising he's not alone, he looks up. Oh, it's just Fleet. Looking repainted. "The engine modules are almost complete" he remarks by way of greeting.

It's just Fleet! Looking repainted (although he has seen brief combat since his last repaint). "Well, that's good," the pastel seeker replies, and he supposes it's true. "What else is there besides that?" This last is just by way of making conversation, because he doesn't really expect to have anything more than a basic understanding of the answer.

Fulcrum frowns. Hasn't he already told Fleet all of this? "Neural and Optical systems" he replies. "The hard part."

Oh, yeah! Fulcrum did tell Fleet that, didn't he? "The stuff you needed help with," he confirms, indicating that yes, he had been listening, it's just that that... hadn't been in the forefront of his processors. Probably has something to do with encounters with Defcon and things like that. Although that did remind him... "I know you've got what you need for upgrades, but I suppose it would be a good idea for you folks," here he seems to indicate MSE in general, "to let us know what you might be needing, since the raids appear to be back on."

"As you say, all my personal component needs have been met by previous raids." And if Fleet thinks about it, he might realise that he's been on all of them. "But for general use.. human computer components are always welcome. Though they are inferior to our own technology, they make good first level failsafe sequencers and controlers for non-vital systems. Apart from that, semi-processed metals are the best. Iron, Steel, Aluminium... even pure silicates and gold for fine circuit work,"

Fulcrum says

.

Fleet turns around and leans back against the workbench. He nods. "Right. It's been tough, lately... the Autobots have been very quick to respond. We were lucky to get out anything on that steel raid, and electronics are especially tricky... they tend to be found either in countries with powerful militaries and strong ties to the Autobots, or countries that... have strong ties to the countries with powerful militaries and strong ties to the Autobots." Woah. Come to think of it, wasn't Fleet discussing this very same thing recently with Catechism?

Fulcrum shrugs with a slight grinding sound, shifting the engines on the table and bending down to begin work on the second unit. "We can always construct our own" he replies as he makes the first of many connections to the controller interface. "Provided we have the raw materials."

Which would be exactly the point brought up. Funny how that works! "All right, although for that I'd need a list. Component manufacture is a bit outside my field of expertise." Gee, Fleet is being helpful! But then, he's always been the sort who wants to see to it that those who are responsible for keeping him in good order have what they need to do the job, and while he's far from the highest ranking Mil-Ops type around, sadly, he seems to be the highest ranking Mil-Ops type who actually /does/ anything these days.

"As I said" Fulcrum says, not looking up. He hates repeating himself. "Steel. Iron. Alluminium. Gold. Pure silicates. Also; Titanium. Magnesium for projectiles. Red Crystals of Burma for laser weaponry."

But by asking questions repeatedly, Fleet gets more answers! See, now he knows about the titanium, magnesium, and red crystals or Burma! He nods. "Burma's not too far, either... then, neither is Western Africa," he adds sourly. "I'll keep those in mind next time I'm putting together a raid." Fleet now organizes raids! Oh, Primus, but is MilOps hard-put for leadership! And for his part, the pastel seeker sighs as he's reminded of this fact, crossing his arms.

Fulcrum carefully makes another connection, raising another spray of sparks. "If we were not currently engaged here, I would suggest moving Trypticon to Antarctica. Geological surveys indicate the continent is an untapped resovoir of resources." He frowns underneath his visor, increasing magnification to work on a particularly tricky bit.

"Perhaps. And we pretty much would need to move him there, or something, because tapping resources like that under all that ice is beyond the ability of the sorts of teams /I/ find myself apart of." Fleet looks down at Fulcrum to watch, but stays well out of the way of whatever the blacksmith is doing. "Actually, when I was first assigned to this planet and doing patrols, that continent struck me as interesting... I mean, even with just my on-board sensors," ie. his optics, "I could see that there was plenty there that no one was making use of." And penguins!

Yes, those penguins. They make for EXCELLENT target practice. "Mnh hn" Fulcrum replies monosybalically, concentrating more on his work for a moment. Annnnndddddd.. there. The connection is made. "It would not be that difficult" he replies. "If worst came to worst we could accellerate the warming of this planet, melting the ice caps to allow us easier access to the Antactican soil." He thinks about that for a while. "Of course, regretably this would sink Ry'leh beneath the oceans, carrying New Crystal City with it."

Eh. Shouldn't the Constructicons be /used/ to having their stuff destroyed by now? /Especially/ their cities. Fleet nods, then snorts. "Yeah..." the pastel seeker agrees, "about the only tolerable city on this mudball, gone. The needs of the Empire do come first, although we may want to look for other ways first." In this case, of course, 'we' refers to 'the people who actually make these decisions and are /supposed/ to think about these things, who don't include Fleet.

Constructicons nothing, do you know how much work /Fulcrum/ did on that damn city? Designed and constructed the entire Stadium and Command Center under Scrapper's guidance. "It is a pity the nanobot experiment was a failure" he says, installing the last of the modulator chips. "It would make things so much easier were the entire planet to be cyber-formed."

"Nanobots?" asks Fleet, giving Fulcrum a curious look. "I've heard... a little about that, but I wasn't on planet, or anywhere like 'in the know,' at the time that business was going on." No, Fleet was still another nameless gumby in those days... although a pretty one.

Fulcrum nods. "It was just before I..." he trails off, frowning, taking the visor from his optics and snapping shut the access hatch, the two engine modules now complete. "They proved to be uncontrolable and dangerous."

Ah. Much unlike the many other ultimate/secret weapons of doom the Decepticons have employed over time! Fleet narrows his eyes and studies Fulcrum. The way he trailed off like that is... a bit uncharacteristic. But he doesn't push the issue. "Right," he says, perhaps a bit wryly. "That just about sums up everything I already knew about the business."

"I personally only created nano-bot constructed vines, hoping to control them by locking them into a programmed fractal growth pattern. They were also supposed to produce glowing "fruit" to illuminate the landscape. From reports, I gather that this did not work." His frown deepens. "At all."

Fulcrum. Fulcrum frowns.

If Fulcrum's frown gets much deeper, he might end up doing irreparable damage to his face! "Well..." Fleet begins, looking for a tactful way to say what he wants to say. He finally gives up and shrugs. "Well, at the rate we keep eliminating all the ways to victory that /don't/ work, we're bound to find the one that does eventually. If there is one." The pastel Seeker smirks, slightly amused.

Fulcrum's face is specially designed for frowning, being constructed entirely of the rare metal Scowlonium. "Perhaps" he replies, sounding highly doubtful. Well, at least his engines are finished. That's something, right?

Fleet /did/ add 'If there is one.' He's not as pessimistic as Fulcrum, which is to say, he thinks that either the Decepticons will eventually win, or no one will win, but unlike his uber-cheerful wingmate Catechism, he does acknowledge the later possibility. He cocks his head and gives Fulcrum a sidelong glance. He seems about to say something, but instead he just shrugs, finishing up the mug of energon that he's been holding this whole time. Really!