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

Hook

Bandit

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 looks pleased that Hook isn't going to nit-pick him to death. Maybe he should have incompetent helpers more often. On second thought, no, that would just be painful. Scrapper shakes his head and replies, "Much worse. A pair of Seekers who went beyond airheaded...I think they actually had vacuum tubes in their noggins."

Hook looks up, the mangification unit clamped to one optic whirring as it adjusts focus. "It wasn't Kitbash and Repaint was it?" he sniffs, before bending back to his work, making the last of the corrections to Bandit's microactivators. "Those two would be more useful as doorstops"

Long Haul plods in, arms full of boxes, because /someone/ took away his seekers the other day. Not that it's particularly shocking, as it's a good bet that any boon granted by Constructicon to Constructicon is going to soon be taken away. One suspects that, in the rare occasions where they do do something 'nice' for one another, it's only for the pleasure of undoing it the next time they're pissed off at the beneficiary. So it's back to life as normal for Long Haul, his small command lost. As he enters he overhears snippets of the conversation and can actually guess what's being discussed. "Naw. Never did catch their names." Hah! Some commander he!

Scrapper, when he looks at the ordeal logically, knows that Mixmaster was probably behind it all. Long Haul just doesn't have motivation or the means to snitch Scrapper's toolbox and give it to Mixmaster. However, Scrapper's not going to admit any of that, because that'd be admitting he was wrong, and he doesn't want to do that. So he instead pays vague attention to what Hook's doing and contemplates gathering a new set of tools to fill up his poor old toolkit..

"There" Hook remarks, straightening up and unclamping his monocle. "Done" He looks around at Long Haul and nods, before turning back to Scrapper. "He should be good to go."

Long Haul heads over to the cabinets and drops his boxes with an audible thunk-crackle, then pulls open the door. Hmmm. Not any more oganized yet, HOOK. He growls softly and shakes his head in irritation, then begins putting the parts and supplies away as best he can.

While Scrapper looks for his new tools, Hook taps at the diagnostic unit attached to Bandit's life support systems, initiating the routine to bring him out of standby mode and into the land of the living.

As soon as he is reactivated, Bandits body comes to life. You can hear the energy surge through his brand new circuitry, and there is a gently buzzing as processors come alive. His right hand quivers a bit at first, as a jolt of energy and some lightspeed commands from his cranial processor begins to boot up. The patches that Long Haul was able to aquire seem to be doing the trick.

Just then the warrior's optics blink on and his mouth opens wide, as he seems to be reaching for something. His voice comes out too slow, and then really fast, until it synchs correctly "Which one should I cut?" he pauses "Ok ....the Red one.....here it goes..." He motions with his hands as if he is tyring to cut something "There it worked......oh wait.....it only paused the countdown....no....NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" He tears himself out of the chair, his wings spread out as he lands onto the floor in a snarl, ripping life support equipment from their housings. He kneels there shuddering.

Long Haul continues to plunk part after part into (more or less) it's place with motion born of years of practice (practice with annoying his brothers, that is), dropping them just heavily enough to sound really annoying without actually damaging the articles. That is until the sudden, very loud, multi-exclamation pointal shout distracts him, causing him to clench his fist reflexively as he turns to see what the trouble is. *CRUNCH* Oh, it's just that damned seeker, anyway. He looks down at the ruined mass of components in his fist and snarls softly. "/NOW/ see whatcha made me do!"

Hook blinks, jumping back as Bandit seems to go crazy, instictively reaching for a console, ready to lock down medbay and seal Bandit within forcefields if he decides to go completely mad. "Ah" he says, relaxing as he realises Bandit is just replaying his last moments before deactivation. "Yes, I feel that way myself some mornings."

Scrapper is startled from sorting through a box of scalpels by an incoherent Seeker screaming. Really, he ought to be used to it by now, but no. Deadpan, Scrapper observes, "So he's alive."

After a moment of silence, Bandit arises from his crouch, and stands up, a little wavery as he does. "W-w-what happened....." he looks down at himself, and notices that he does not look at all like what he did just a couple of days before. Everything has changed. He looks at the trio of constructicons "What is this?" his voice is deapan...as if he is in shock.

Long Haul snorts. "More work for us," he mutters, going back to plunking the supplies into the cabinet. The broken assembly he places on the top of his cabinet, setting it aside for... whatever. Maybe he'll give it to Scavenger or something now.

Hook pinches the bridge of his nose. Why are mechs so DUMB? "This is the afterlife, Bandit" he replies. "I'm afraid you died in that explosion, and your soul has become one with.." he waves his hand vaguely "...the Matrix, or the Cosmos, or Cybertron, or something. The fact that it just HAPPENS to look like the repairbay of New Crystal City is somewhat of an amusing co-incidence."

And that makes Scrapper Primus! He continues sorting through the box of scalpels. Why are the laser scalpels in with the diamond-blades? Moreover, why are there little hexnuts mixed in here, too? Oh. Mixmaster. Right.

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

Hook begins work on Bandit's severe injuries.

Bandit just remains silent and looks at the three of them. "......then i failed..." he growls under his breath. "Thank you Hook....Scrapper....Long Haul.....I assume this is your handiwork?" he begins to stretch out his arms and move them about. "Do you have a mirror...?" he asks sarcastically, but almost wanting to see what this is all about. Nothing looks the same, feels the same, or reacts the same.

"No," answers Long Haul, also sarcastically. Ask a sarcastic question, get a sarcastic answer... especially among Constructicons. He empties one of the cartons he had been carrying and moves on to the next, grumbling to himself as he works. Nothing new here...

Hook almost suggests pouring quicksilver on the floor to act as a mirror, just to irritate the cleaning gumbies. But that would be a waste of good quicksilver. And wouldn't be that great a mirror anyway, really. In fact, where'd that thought come from? Must be a piece of Mixmaster's conciousness left over after interlock. Sighing again, he routes the output from the medbay security cams to the main monitor, providing Bandit with multiple views of his new form. "There. Happy?" Hm. Must be Surly Construction Day. But what do you expect when you wake up and scream in their audials?

Isn't every day Surly Constructicon Day?

Scrapper finally has a good enough assortment of new, working scalpels that aren't acid-scored and chipped and broken. He'll keep the broken ones, but he's not going to put them to medical use anymore. Scrapper comments vaguely in Bandit's direction, "Oh yeah. You got a rebuild and a repaint."

Bandit looks around and nods. He does not really care if the constructicons are being surly or not. All that he cares about right now, is the fact that there is energon coursing through his systems and that he is for all extents and purposes alive. He takes a moment to transform, methodically at first as he is unsure of what he is to become. When he does, he transforms into a modified version of the Russian S-37 fighter. He immediately transforms back into robot form and then paces back and forth. "Once again comrades...you have my gratitude......how long was I out for?"

Long Haul shrugs, finishing up as much as he intends to do of the sorting. "Goin' on four weeks now? They hadda go get your pieces from being scattered all over orbit." He says this as though there's nothing disturbing at all at having one's pieces-parts scattered all over space. Yet another battle missed due to his duties as a supply officer, although if he were to be honest with himself, even he's forced to admit he wouldn't have been able to accomplish much beside get himself blown up in that one.

Hook frowns at Long Haul, before correcting his brother, stating the /exact/ time Bandit has been unconcious, using /proper/ Cybertronian terminology. That his player doesn't know.

Scrapper is now looking for a new set of wrenches, which will likely take him a while, as the socket wrenches seem to be filed with the electrical sockets, and he doesn't want to think about where the adjustable wrenches might be. He confirms what his brothers said, "You were in really bad shape. You're pretty lucky to be alive." Whether Scrapper is referring to the damage that Bandit took or the ineptitude of the Seekers who helped fix him is open to debate.

Bandit nods as his mood turns somber. Faced with that reality is something he had not really considered in his youth. Sometimes you have to grow up the hard way. "I am in your debt.......hopefully it will be something that I can repay." he motions to each of them.

Long Haul wouldn't count on it, but he's too busy tilting his head ceilingward in response to Hook's correction. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Mr. Major Modern General or whatever." Like Hook has any business criticizing Long Haul for Terran-taint!

Hey, music is one thing, but adopting their primative and innacurate systems of measurements? Ugh! "And it's THAT kind of attitude that keeps you moving boxes" Hook snaps back. "Yeah Whatever is NOT acceptable engineering practice."

Scrapper gives Hook a funny look. Mr. Um Science does engineering? If he does, he might have actually needed Scrapper's toolkit, and that would mean that maybe Mixmaster wasn't lying! Scratch that. Mixmaster was so lying. Scrapper waves vaguely to Bandit and says, "For a start, try not to get so busted up. Saves us the work of fixing you."

Long Haul gives Hook a funny look as well, for that matter. For one thing, it's not engineering that he wants to quit moving boxes for. It's fighting. He stares at his brother for a long moment (hence the idle. See, it was planned!) and then repeats, enunciating more carefully this time, "Yeah. Whatever."

Hook gahs! "Fine!" he says, throwing up his arms. "Be that way! I have important things to do. And no doubt you have to move something heavy from one place to another place!" And with that Hook turns on his heel and storms out in a huff.

Bandit listens to the echange and it brings a smile to his face. He has so much to be happy about this day...and yet...so much which needs to be thought through. He continues to roll his joints and try and get used to his new get up. So far so good.

Hook has disconnected.