IC Time on Earth: Fri Oct 25 20:35:28 2024

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:

Hook

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.

Hook is actually doing work! In fact, he's going over the schematics of Lord Galvatron's warships... astro-inch by astro-inch. Beside him is a data pad, filled with notes and corrections. "Really.." he remarks, making another note. "You should have let me design EVERYTHING, Scrapper! Look at these flaws! These errors! And look!" he points at the holographic display in front of him with his stylus. "See this exhaust port? It leads directly to the main reactor! A lucky shot could start a chain reaction that would destroy the whole batteship!"

Fleet steps in and looks around, here for a general check-up to ensure that his recent upgrade took. He takes a moment to look around nervously. One green and purple robot... okay, Fleet can handle one. Two green and purple robots. Oh, Primus! Fleet's in trouble! If one of them happens to be looking for Fleet (*coughcough*) they'd better say something fast, or else Fleet will be making good on his name real quick!

Scrapper is perched on stool, intent on fixing something small. Looking more closely, he has out a damaged old scalpel. It's rusted, busted, and should probably have been recycled long ago. The tip of the blade has even been snapped off. Scrapper's got out a small piece of scrap surgical steel that he seems to be shaping into a new tip, although why in the world he'd want to fix this piece of junk is unclear. At Hook's blithering, he snorts, "If you designed it, it'd take so long to construct that we'd need to build back up-shielding on one of the moons just to keep the fleet intact while it was finished." However, given that he looked up from repairing that scalpel to parry his brother's comments, he also spots a pastel yellow seeker. Vaguely, Scrapper waves - with a hand that's holding a welding torch - and calls out, "Fleet!"

Fleet stiffens. Damn! Spotted! Fleet looks around even more carefully. Well, at least Mixmaster isn't here as well. He's the one intent on turning Flee into some sort of competition. He takes a step or two further in, stands at attention and salutes. "Sir?" he asks.

"That upgrade was finished properly?" Scrapper asks, not putting down what he's working on or even pausing. He doesn't care about Fleet. He doesn't care if Fleet's now got a bad image of MSE or whatnot, because he doesn't care what Fleet thinks. Scrapper did, however, start a job, and he didn't finish it. He cares about that. It is bad enough having brothers who insisting on changing his designs at every turn, but passing off his work to some random technician? Scrapper idly considers asking if Fleet's having any spectacular tactile-spatial hallucinations, as an improper install might cause, but decides to keep quiet about that.

Hook hmphs. "But they would have been /perfect/, Scrapper. I suppose, as usual, that I'll just have to content myself with perfection within inperfect parameters." He tsks, shaking his head. "This is just like the.." he begins, only to be interrupted by the Seeker's entrance and his brother's greeting. Well /fine/, get distracted by unimportant matters! Irritated, he turns to regard Fleet. Upgrade eh? He should have got Hook to install it. Only way to be sure it works /properly/.

Well, it's never a good idea to get snippy with a member of High Command, so Fleet just keeps his voice politely neutral. "The, erm, technician you left the job with didn't know what he was doing, sir. Soundwave stepped in and completed the upgrade. It seems to have worked well, and my systems are accepting it." There's still a nervousness about the seeker, as though he were still looking for an escape route (even if he is standing near the door).

Y'know, Fleet probably should have got the upgrade done by Hook. But that's neither here nor there. Scrapper, for his part, does not look happy. His optics flash an irritated red and he growls under his exhaust, "Soundwave..." Then, he paces over to his desk, abandoning the stool and his little project. He calls up the files on that particular upgrade. "...Aerosol?" Slag. Scrapper really needs to watch when he's pointing at random gumbies.

"Well at least it wasn't Bonesrusher or Boncrusher" Hook remarks. "Those two can't get ANYTHING right. Or for that matter, Kitbash, Scratchbuild or Repaint. In fact.. Scrapper, why is MSE filled with incompetant mechanisms unable to find their aft-plate with both hands?"

And these are the people responsible for the well-being of the Decepticon Empire, folks! Fleet just deflates and makes a static-sigh. This is probably the fault of the same Decepticon aptitude placement officer that declared Fleet would be best in Military Ops. "I'm just in here to do a final scan. A last check-up to ensure that the upgrade took, as it were. Then I'll be on my way."

Scrapper just stares at Hook, as if asking, 'Do you really want me to answer that?' Probably it's because if most MSE personnel were in MilOps, they'd all get shot dead on their first day. Or maybe the chemicals they work with go to their heads. But what Scrapper says is, "Now, now, it's not that most of MSE is stupid, it's that they're not as smart as me-" he falters, remembering there's a Seeker around and appends, "Us." He gestures vaguely at Fleet, inquiring, "You can operate that equipment correctly?"

Fleet cocks his head slightly. "What equipment are you referring to? D'you mean me?"

Hook rolls his optics. "Well that's a given, Scrapper. I mean, I don't expect them to aspire to the lofty heights of my..OUR intellect, but they /could/ aim a /little/ higher than their current skills.. say perhaps Bonecrusher level, or if they're lucky, Scavenger." Hook regards Fleet again. "Perhaps the question should be; Have your upgrades been tested properly?"

"Well, I can't get into the training room quite yet. I'm still recovering from battle damage from a few days back. But Soundwave did a quick test right after install, and he seemed satisfied." Fleet shrugged. "Really, I will feel more comfortable once I can test it in the training room, but I imagine Soundwave knows what he's talking about." You'd almost think Fleet was intentionally egging on the Constructicons... but no, not really. He has no reason to know of the animosity there.

"The scanner, Fleet," Scrapper fairly snaps, answering the Seeker's earlier question about what Scrapper meant. He looks over at Hook, optic band flickering, and says slowly, "Well, if Soundwave did it, I definitely think we should check him out, don't you?"

Hook nods his assent. "Oh, of course. Really, Fleet, you should have waited until a Constructicon was available to do the installs. You should know not to trust inferior workmanship." Hook picks up a medscanner from the table beside him and steps forward, tapping at the interface. "Begining preliminary scan" he says, pointing the device at the yellow Seeker.

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

Scrapper walks over, elbows Hook, and hisses in his brother's audio sensor, "I was doing the upgrade, but then Bonecrusher fell down a well. Of acid. And you know..." He trails off.

Fleet walks all the way into the room, since apparently he's now stuck, and looks uncertainly at the scanner. "I could probably figure it out, Scrapper, but I don't really have much experience with those sorts of devices." He looks up at Hook. "Well, there was a Constructicon available at the start, but something came up, I'm afraid."

"Hey!" Hook snaps, as Scrapper elbows him, jarring the scanner off center. He's about to complain further, when Scrapper hisses his explanation. "I /still/ think we should make a giant pirate-style hook for Devastator" he mutters back, before turning back to Fleet. "Well you should have waited" he says somewhat testily, before starting the scan AGAIN. Hopefully WITHOUT interruptions this time.

Bah, Hook just wants to be Captain Hook. Pity Scrapper doesn't have that alligatorcon he made in 'City of Steel' around here. He looks over at Fleet and shakes his head. With a narrowed optic band, he instructs, "We'll handle that, then. And stand still for Hook."

"Waited?! But I was half-way through the procedure!" Nevermind that his player really really wanted to see the upgrade done before she went back to sea on Monday. He shrugs. "I..." at Scrapper's command he nods, and stands really still. "All right, sir."

Hook caaarefully completes the scan, and looks down at the readout. "Tsk" he says, handing it to Scrapper. "The results speak for themselves. There's no substitute for superior Constructicon engineering." Of course, the scan only shows minor inperfections, most of which have nothing to do with the work that Soundwave did, and were in fact there before the upgrade process. But like Hook's going to admit to that.

Fleet starts moving again. At least, he doesn't hold himself frozen anymore. He doesn't bother trying to peek at the scan because, well, he knows damn well he won't make sense of it anyway. But he does give Hook a curious look. "I'm not getting any error reports from my internal system checks, outside of the damage I already knew was there. And that's being taken care of." Silly Fleet! Looking for sense from a Constructicon! When will he learn better?

Scrapper peers at the read-outs. He doesn't see anything wrong... what, oh, that? You'd have to be a nit-picky freak to notice... oh. Hook. Right. Still, Scrapper nods enthusiastically. "Shame I wasn't able to finish the job. Will have to make it up for you some other time." This is not Scrapper being sorry that he ran out of on Fleet. Phhft. This is purely Scrapper upset that he got made to look like a fool when he wasn't there.

Then Fleet gets to keep the leg? Goody! Then he doesn't have to worry about Geist getting pissed off at him for giving it away, even if it is just cluttering up his extreamly small quarters.

Yay! Scrapper is agreeing with him for once! Hook knew that the high-heel-former would eventually see reason. "It's a pity you'll be operating with such sub-standandard equipment" he sighs, stashing the medscanner in subspace. "But that's what you get, I suppose."

"Sub-standard?" Fleet narrows his optics, and then just shrugs. Another seeker might be upset at being called substandard, but Fleet doesn't have enough of a sense of pride to really let it bother him. Besides, Hook (and Fleet's player very nearly typed 'Hok' here by mistake) can't even get Fleet's name right, so really, what does he know anyway?

Scrapper will agree with Hook if it makes Soundwave look bad. And Scrapper can do better than getting cassette legs from Seekers. Maybe. If he ever got out of the medbay and did some fighting. He explains idly to Fleet, "It has to do with baselines. For example, if you're built with an error, it'll get recorded into your schematics, and it won't register as being anything wrong. Because your schematics get updated when you get upgraded, a similar sort of thing can happen."

Hook ohhh, that's a good one. Hook will have to remember that one. "Yes, it's a sad fact that many units have become so accustomed to their own mediocracy that their sensors actually display any /increase/ in performance as an error" He shakes his head. "Of course, all of the Constructicons conform to the most exact specifications."

Fleet uhms softly. "But increases don't tend to just happen spontaneously on their own," he murmurs softly. He's no tech, but he knows that much. It'd be nice if they did, though. "I suppose I see what you mean, though. I'm a lot less hardy than my baseline type, after all. It would be irritating if that was constantly showing up as damage in my readings. Distracting, even, and when you're taking real damage in combat, you don't need something like that."

Scrapper ain't no steenkin' conformist! Okay, he's like every evil engineer ever, but still. Scrapper continues, "That's the general idea, but it can lead to trouble, if say, you're built cross-wired, and that gets reconciled away as normal for your particular design. And then there's tolerancing. Mass-produced parts, such as the ones that comprise Seekers, aren't all exactly alike. They're alike to a certain degree of tolerance, and sometimes standards slip."

Hook smirks. Oh those mass produced Decepticons. It's lucky the Empire has such sterling, custom-crafted individuals such as the Constructicons. After all, how many OTHER lime green 6-mech construction gestalts do you see around the place? Not many - if any. "Yes, that has always been a problem with the Seeker units" Hook says. "You'd think that since they all /look/ the same, they should /perform/ the same. But nooo..."

"Well, we may be mass-produced, but we're still individuals!" protests Fleet. "Without variance, we'd only be good for one task. Considering how much we outnumber other types, that would leave some of the other areas of the Empire somewhat undermanned. Unbalanced. And it's not really efficient to have a single design that excels at everything. We couldn't have been mass-produced, then. The way it is, when we group up, the individuals of a group can use their strengths and weaknesses to counterbalance each other." The seeker pauses and lowers his optics, thinking about what he just said. He shrugs. "At least, that's the way it goes when it's working like it should."

Offhand, there's the Destron Sixbuilder team and the Universe Micromaster Constructicons, but they're not in this MUSH, so they don't matter. Scrapper taps his chin thoughtfully and comments, "Hmm, there's a place for specialization and variant models, although it does makes keeping the correct parts in stock trickier." His internal chronometer beeps at him angrily and he shakes his head. "I've got a meeting."

"And /I/ have work to do" adds Hook. He nods at Fleet. "You can go now".

Oh, thank Primus! Fleet managed to survive yet another trip to the medical ward! Without another word, the seeker scuttles out the door.