NCC Central Hub

This is the very center of New Crystal City, and serves as the gateway to the other areas of the base. A feeling of claustrophobia exists here despite the fact that this part of the city is open to the air. Now in Battle Station Mode, the Central Hub has far less buildings than usual, as many have transformed themselves into huge laser defense cannons and missile turrets. There are very few positions one can take to hide from the weapons without being forced to take evasive action. The roadways have laser point-defense systems protecting them. The important buildings, including the medical ward and the command center now have a huge layer of thick metal protecting them, covering up the facilities and protecting them from harm.

Contents:

Arachnae

Trypticon <T>

Decepticon Sensor #1792

The Powerbase

Obvious exits:

North <N> leads to Mount R'Lyeh.

Northeast <NE> leads to NCC Dungeon.

Northwest <NW> leads to NCC Medical Ward.

South <S> leads to NCC Coastline.

Southeast <SE> leads to NCC Residential Plaza.

Southwest <SW> leads to NCC Spaceport.

East <E> leads to NCC Arena.

West <W> leads to NCC Central Command.

Fly <Up>

Arachnae arrives from the NCC Arena to the east.

Arachnae has arrived.

Arachnae pads into the central hub, wings neatly tucked behind her, a datapad in one hand and a technician trailing alongside taking notes as she reads off inventory needs for an updated report. "Spanners, base aluminium, composite carbon fibre rods, acetate sheathing, silicate, medical grade crystals..."

Geist has connected.

Fleet is trudging tiredly from the direction of the coastline, having spent the day on patrol (and still not yet 100% from his battle the day before). Of course, the wariness does have one advantage: it serves to suppress his usual nervous nature. He stops up short as Arachnae passes in front of him, alert enough to keep himself from actually wandering into her, but just barely. "Oh. Erm. Arachnae," he nods, choosing courtesy even if she hasn't notice him.

Arachnae glances up at the sound of her name, blinks with that tunnel-vision of hers.. peers at Fleet for a moment as if wondering who the hell he is, where the hell she is and what's going on. "Oh.." Blinkblink.. and she offers a faint smile, "Greetings, Fleet."

Fleet nods slightly, tiredly. He's doing everything tiredly at the moment, it seems. "Hello again." He attempts a half-hearted smile, but the expression has not the energy to stay on his lips for long, and quickly tumbles off.

Geist is leaning against a wall deep in its shadow. As is his custom, his cloaking device is activated at 50% power making him very difficult to see. He remains silent and in the shadow for now.

Arachnae is slow to come out of that mental state wher all is focused on duty and work. Wings shift behidn her as she studies the seeker briefly, frowns and waves the technician along, "Go get started on compiling the list.." Now attention on Fleet, "You recharged last cycle, yes?" sortof a question.. She hasn't noticed Geist.. And might not notice him for a bit.

Geist simply listens and watches as he waits for a good point to make his presence known. A point that usually causes someone in the group a bit of a start. Geist does so love doing that to people.

"Of course!" replies the yellow seeker, his optics flickering in surprise at the question. "Just... wait..." he stops to consider this. He frowns thoughtfully. "Surely I wouldn't be so foolish as to... oh, yeah, wait. After the fight." He shakes his hand, a depreciating smirk brushing his expression before it runs off. "But before the challenge. So I wasn't SO foolish. Just not-so foolish." He has definatly not noticed Geist... and is always rather easily startled, so long as his feet are on the ground.

Arachnae shakes her head and points towards Medical. "You, medical. Now.. And here I was starting to think that youwern't as aftheaded as most of your design. Nothing that a mug or three of energon won't cure. Doctors orders."

Fleet allows himself a brief grin, and even shares it with Arachnae. "Well, I wouldn't want to be accused of disobeying orders, Doctor." He begins heading in the direction indicated, and although he does try to do a bit less in the way of trudging, his step still is not near as light as normal.

Geist silently pushes himself off the wall and walks as quietly as possible towards Fleet. As he emerges into the light, he kills the cloak field and speaks up, "Seekers are always foolish. They exist when they should smelt themselves for a more productive cause, ... perhaps like refuse containers." The sweep is standing a few feet away with his arms crossed and wings spread just enough to cast a shadow across his body. There is a very arrogant smirk on his face.

Arachnae's optics flicker, she pauses, looks around then 'yip-startles'. Wings snap out, crackle and she stares at the now showing himself sweep. "For *censored* sake!" she growls, optics narrowed to slits and a dimish green.

Fleet jumps slightly. Had he been less worn, he would have jumped higher, and possibly not even bothered to come back down. He studies Geist for a moment. He didn't have much experience with Sweeps, and would have been perfectly content to have kept it that way. Not having the energy for a verbal sparring match, he instead just shrugs shoulders and wings. "Oh, I'm primarily decorative myself," he replies casually, almost covering the nervousness that's creeping back in, "but if you'll excuse me, I *am* currently under orders."

Geist smirks at the seeker and at Arachnae's reaction, "Yes, you are. Now run along like a good little grunt." Turning his attention to Arachnae he says, "Are you a little jumpy today wingsib?"

Arachnae points a taloned fingertip at geist, "Stop sneaking up on me, wingsib and I wouldn't be so blasted jumpy. For *insert colorful metaphor here* sake, you could give me cascade failures you know." She begins folding wings back in as a crooked grin crosses her features, tone sliding back into her usual more mellow timbre, "Leave the seeker alone, Geist. I like him."

Geist smirks and begins, "There was a time when you ...eh.." his face and voice drops, "what did you just say?"

Arachnae lifts a brow, "Which part?"

Primus! After having spent his existence as a seeker, surrounded by other seekers, Flee would have thought he'd seen the heights of arrogance, but apparently there are levels as yet unexplored. Still, his only reaction is to shake his head as he continues along the path he would have walked any way, derogatory Sweep-crack or no.

You move northwest to the NCC Medical Ward.

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.

Arachnae arrives from the NCC Central Hub to the southeast.

Arachnae has arrived.

Fleet is sitting, slouched, on the edge of a med-table, swinging his legs slightly.

Arachnae pads into medical, wings tucked neatly behind her, optics dimmed in thought. As she passes a medcart, she nabs a scanner and keys it on. "You have energon yet, Fleet?" her usual papery tone.

Fleet looks up from his (just edited in) mug and nods slightly. "I do, thank you," he replies quietly, then pauses a moment. "I see why you advised I avoid them," he adds.

Arachnae shakes her head and offers a wan smile, "Saying that they do not like seekers is an understatement. When I was brought back online, it was.. rather violent the schism between the forces."

Fleet leans back far enough that a micrometer farther would probably unbalance him and studies the ceiling. Because, you know, it's a really interesting ceiling. "While I acknowledge the whole 'survival of the fittest/culling the weak to make for a stronger empire' sort of philosophy, letting that stuff go too far just makes the Autobots’ job easier, one would think."

Arachnae gives a shrug of her shoulders, "That it does, actually." She runs a brief scan of Fleet, if only to have to file a brief medical log report for inventory's sake. "There comes a point where the 'weak' are just as needed as those that view themselves as 'strong'. Sometimes.. the weak need to be defended as well." She waves a taloned hand to the technician in the corner, working on inventory reports. "He couldn't fight, but give that one a metalurgy request and he can fabricate. Survival of the fittest is fine and wonderful but.." optics gleam, "what defines 'fittest'?"

Fleet sits up straight again - his off-balance position makes drinking his energon a bit difficult - and takes a long sip from his mug as he considers. "Whoever happens to survive when it's all over, I suppose. Which, often enough, are the ones that the 'strong' considered 'weak' because they weren't the ones busy killing each other off. Or it could be the persuasive and useful, for talking someone else into protecting them, or the clever, for out-thinking the odds, or the fleet," he grins at his own pun, "for out-running them. Whoever survives. Because they're the ones left to make the rules and write down what happened. And what happened is whatever they say happened."

Arachnae laughs softly as she pads to a desk that's nominally reserved for her own use. "History is written by the winners."

Fleet smiles lopsidedly at the semi-sweep over his mug. "Yes. My point, exactly."

Arachnae rummages in her desk and gets herself a mug out as well. She pours herself some energon and smiles wryly, "Interesting point. My wingsib was right.." she takes a sip of her energon.

Fleet considers all *he* heard her wingsib say... something about how seekers were better off smelted into waist receptacles before telling him to run along. HOPING that this wasn't what the female was referring to, he asks, "Erm... about what?"

Arachnae smiles over her mug, "You do bear watching."

Fleet swallows the energon he has in his mouth, somewhat loudly. "*He* said that?" he asks, barely keeping the 'squeek' from his voice. Then he shakes himself a little, his wingtips quivering. "Well, I guess I'd rather you agree with that then the 'smelting' comment."

Arachnae offers a faint smile, not waspish or sinister, simply a faint smile. "Yes, he said that. Be grateful. He is but one of the pack.. and not the most forwardly violent by any means." There's a moment of odd silence, wings shuffling behind the medic as she frowns before picking up a datapad, turning to head into her private lab/office. "I don't often smelt beings that I enjoy conversation with, Fleet. Enjoy your energon. I have some work to tend to."

Arachnae has disconnected.