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

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.

Scrapper seems to be in a rather good mood, shovel perked up cheerily, despite the fact that he's busily editing a report. Weird. He cycles through various incomprehensible diagrams and graphs and back to text.

Fleet, who is just today coming off limited duty from his freak dancing mishap, has discovered that he's been rotated back to Earth for patrol there. Sheesh! You'd think that MilOps consisted entirely of himself, two other Seekers (one of whom is currently mute and not allowed into medical), an occasional Stunticon, and the division head! And since he's on Earth, and since he hasn't managed to find any of the folks he was hoping for in any of the usual places before leaving Cybertron, he now checks the 'usual places' here on Earth, and as luck would have it! He looks around medical and spots the Constructicon. And with Mixmaster not in view, he hopefully shouldn't get used as a battleground!

Scrapper takes a moment to notice that anyone has entered the medbay. Gee, those dry calculations must be really interesting, huh? He quickly closes up what he was working on - a little ditty about pain thresholds? The Constructicon leans back in his chair and swivels around to see who has arrived. Hrm, a Seeker, just like every... wait, it's that yellow one that skipped out on maintenance and then came in busted! Scrapper asks up front, "What brings you here, Seeker?"

Fleet erms softly as he weaves his way towards Scrapper's desk. "Actually, sir, looking for you." Or Arachnae, or Hook. But Scrapper was the one he found first. He stands at attention in front of the desk and does a quick Decepticon salute. "Fleet, sir. Gr-Trooper. Military operations."

Scrapper folds his shovel back slightly and gives Fleet a considering look. There could be a number of reasons behind this, and Scrapper would like to get a bit more information before he jumps to any conclusions. But this Fleet had better not be whining about stress fractures, slaggit. He folds his hands on his desk and asks, rather business-like, "Yes?"

Fleet isn't whining about stress fractures! "Erm..." he starts a bit hesitantly, "Are you capable of performing agility upgrades? I mean, me, I've got no clue what goes into that, but then, it's not my job to know that sort of thing..." he trails off and looks down. Because it's easier than looking right at Scrapper. His right hand comes up and strokes the back of his left slightly as he fidgets.

Scrapper gives Fleet a cool, level stare, which is made a bit trickier by how the Seeker is looking down. It's a good thing that Fleet caught him in a good mood. Consciously not using the Seeker's name, despite it just having been mentioned to him, the Constructicon says, "That's a rather basic thing. Usually just takes an engine swap, a few additional sensors, and some updated software." He gestures to a gumby. "He could do that." Something about Scrapper's tone, although flat and without pride, makes it rather clear that Fleet is a stupid little Seeker to wonder if Scrapper was capable of such a simple procedure.

Fleet rubs an arm. "Yes, but... things like this can go wrong. And, well, this is my life, and my future. As far as that goes, I'd just as soon go to the most competent technician I can find for the procedure." Never mind that he'd prefer Arachane or would settle for Hook (who's probably a better choice, but even more annoying to deal with). Best not to mention that, and just do a bit of ego stroking to make up for the unintended insult.

Scrapper looks somewhat mollified and... amused? Heh. This Seeker thinks that Scrapper has so much free time that he can worry about MilOps troopers? Wow. He scratches the back of his helmet and explains, "Well, I can sign off for the procedure if you've got the energon to pay for the parts, but it'll be a bit tricky to fit it into my schedule. There is the war fleet to consider, after all." The Constructicon makes something of a clicking noise.

Fleet looks up. "Erm. I've got a foot. From an Autobot. Recently acquired." He shuffles from one foot to the other, catches himself, and stops, but he does raise his head a little to watch the reaction.

Gee, is Scrapper that pathetically eager to bribe? Well maybe. Just a bit. His shovel flicks up. Scrapper coughs and says, "But timelines can always be shifted around. I'll see you fitted into my schedule."

Fleet grins very very wide. With his paint job, he's almost sunny! "Thank you! I really appreciate this! But, erm... I have duties to get back to." With that he returns his salute and scampers off before Scrapper has a chance to change his mind.