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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Apr 27, 2007 10:32:50 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron goes distinctly stiff when Perceptor opens him up, as if he is a hopeless prisoner, and Perceptor is some iniquitous interrogator known for doing his worst. Indeed, in this case, a scientist's natural curiosity is Xaaron's worst enemy as his body speaks treachery. He is warbuild, and that alone is quite damning enough.
Warbuild from before Cybertron knew war, oh yes, from before a tank more likely than not had a purple symbol welded to him from creation, but still, what is one of his design line doing on this side of the fence? There is a question Emirate Xaaron had hoped to avoid for a quite long time, if not forever.
Giving up transforming wasn't enough of a sacrifice to ensure his safety, he sees. At least Perceptor has the decency to be discreet. Emirate Xaaron wonders how long that will hold. Quieter still, he replies, "Warrior class repairs will not be necessary. I am not, nor will I ever be, a warrior. The very thought is laughable. I assure you, my comfort is not an issue. It is an unnecessary luxury in a war or on an alien world. Do not think ill of those who have tended to me. Half, I am sure, thought I was a lamppost, and supplies have always been scarce. Think of me as an Actionmaster," he pauses as it occurs to him that perhaps he should define the term, "a Transformer who cannot transform, and we will all be better for it. Your patch welds are quite sufficient. Thank you."
He turns back to Long Haul and loudly asks, "Anything I can do to be of assistance?"
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Post by Long Haul on Apr 27, 2007 14:18:03 GMT -5
Long Haul doesn't hear the quiet exchange going on behind him. The noise of his work is more than enough to drown it out, and odds favor that he wouldn't understand what the whole fuss is about, anyway.
He also has no clue just what an "Actionmaster" is.
The transport gives an absent nod when Perceptor informs him that they'll be helping shortly, but when Xaaron poses a more direct query, he pauses and glances back. "Don't s'pose you've got any cutting equipment?" he asks, then continues, gesturing to the dragon with one hand. "I'm grabbin' the stuff I recognize what may be useful, but near-on everything's going to need heavy modification, and I ain't got the expertise for that." He gestures to Perceptor. "You'll wanna find out what he thinks we can use, too. If you ain't got any way to get this stuff out, though, you can just start... dunno. Piling the stuff as best you can so it can be loaded into my bed easily when we're done, or something."
Then Long Haul turns towards Perceptor. "I got the fuel tank here, and it's about half-full, but I don't do chemical anna- ana- I can't figure if it's safe for us or not on our own. I can stomach pretty dirty mixtures," like some of Mixmaster's 'special blends,' "but I got my limits, an' coming down with food poisoning right about now would be... no good."
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Post by Perceptor on Apr 27, 2007 17:46:22 GMT -5
Perceptor frowns thoughtfully to himself as Xaaron brushes him off. Regardless of whether the Emirate ever plans on utilizing his full capabilities or not, certain of his former repairs are lacking in what could amount to a perilous manner for Xaaron. Perceptor will have to attempt to dissuade Xaaron from continuing to ignore his own state at a future date when they have leisure time enough for the discussion.
"I am able to utilize my light cannon as a cutting or welding tool, Long Haul," Perceptor replies as he turns to join them both. "Perhaps I should analyze the fuel mixture first, however."
Suiting action to words, Perceptor takes a small sample of the contents of the tank and transforms to analyze it.
"Curious. I detect elevated carbon levels, but otherwise, no other contaminants," Perceptor observes, taking another few moments to study the sample before transforming. "It is, perhaps, a little more poorly refined than you may be used to, but it is a far higher quality of fuel, and cleaner, than I expected we would have the good fortune of obtaining this early."
With a nod, he begins examining the remains of the creature, noting the materials Long Haul has already liberated.
"My own fuel needs, particularly having been transported thus far, are quite adequately served for the moment by my current reserves. I leave it up to both of you to divide between yourselves. While you do so, I shall see what materials may be of most use most quickly that you have not yet discovered."
Trusting them to sort out the fuel situation for themselves, Perceptor digs in, fishing through the creature's circuitry and components like a surgeon. He is particularly interested to see if the creature had any system for converting materials into the fuel it carried. If not, then obviously there has to be some sort of fuel depot around. He's also curious to find any sort of rudimentary memorybanks the creature may have for later examination, as well as earmarking certain parts for potential modification to replace and better repair Xaaron.
Was it mentioned that this Perceptor may be a might bit more stubborn than the one Xaaron is used to?
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Apr 27, 2007 19:03:57 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron is quite used to dealing with stubborn people. They usually come around to seeing his point of view, given enough time. He may lack some of his usual persuasive resources, but they’re all lacking resources here, and his best tools can never be stripped from him by anything short of a lobotomy.
Getting a noncombatant to operational combat status is a pointless endeavour and a waste of resources. Emirate Xaaron hopes that Perceptor will soon understand that logic.
He answers Long Haul, scuffing a foot against the ground, “I do have a small ceremonial dagger, actually. In fact, why don’t I outline what I do have and save us all the trouble of playing seventeen questions? I have a datapad, the aforementioned ceremonial dagger, a holocube, a chalice, a set of scales, a text, and ceremonial regalia. As far as the fuel goes, I would suggest that Long Haul takes as much as he needs first.”
He could bless the fuel, if they wanted, but given that their reality seems Primus-forsaken, he doubts that option would be overly hot. Instead, Emirate Xaaron withdraws the ceremonial dagger. The word ‘ceremonial’ is a bit dubiously applied here. The knife is, in fact, exceedingly plain, even boring, in design. It’s rather too small to use in combat, which would seem to be the only reason one might call it ceremonial. He looks to Long Haul and Perceptor for direction in how, exactly, to start piecing out the dragon. That knife’s not going to cut through armour or structural supports, but it might go through connective components and circuitry if he puts his back into it.
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Post by Long Haul on Apr 27, 2007 21:56:18 GMT -5
"Hnh. Somma the stuff I'm used to is prolly too processed," the transport declares. Long Haul is more practical than selfless. When everyone else finishes explaining why they shouldn't get the fuel, Long Haul shrugs, bends a smallish-plate of the dragon's hide into a bowl of sorts, and pours some of the thick liquid into it. Then he takes a sip. It should be noted that he does this despite having a mouth. If you didn't see how, you probably weren't watching at that moment.
He shrugs. "I've had worse." He sometimes goes to rather rough bars. They even exist in the Golden Age, apparently! "But, y'know, when you two are done being all self-sacrificing and stuff, you'd better drink up. We can store fuel in our own tanks better than we can store it anywhere else at the moment. So long as we're careful not to, y'know, overenergize. Besides, it's more dangerous for me to transfer fuel into subspace than other stuff." This would explain why his future self is seen to transfer a number of mechanical devices into subspace in Heavy Metal War, while he simply dumps a load of energon cubes on the ground in Master Builder. "So before we leave here, we're all best off makin' as much of this stuff gone as possible." And then, to emphasize his point, Long Haul takes another sip. How? You don't know! You blinked and missed it!
As Xaaron gives his inventory, Long Haul grunts. "Had this... whatever happened a day later, I'd have a heckeva list for you guys. I was on a supply run, but... I hadn't made the pick-up yet. Since the more I have on me before I pick-up, the less I can carry back, 'bout all I've got with me is my welder an' a small, basic tool kit." It should be stated, by the by, that Long Haul is not humble. If he says 'small' and 'basic,' he probably means just that. "That thing should be useful for emergency repairs, but it ain't gonna handle anything complex." He pauses to take another sip, and then adds, "Oh yeah. An' an astro-trumpet. Worst comes to worst and I s'pose that can be smelted for someone, but y'know what? Someone better be dyin' afore that happens."
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Post by Perceptor on Apr 28, 2007 12:06:57 GMT -5
Perceptor listens as they list their various inventories, offering a faintly chagrined little cough. "I am accustomed to having access to my laboratory; I only have my weaponry with me. And once you have had your fill, Xaaron and I shall divide the rest. Your work load is far greater than ours, however. Your fuel needs take priority, Long Haul."
As he speaks, he continues working, examining the components of the creature for parts and for the most efficient places to divvy the remains up. Noting Xaaron's dagger, Perceptor points out several places where the Emirate can be of assistance, and using his own cannon as a cutter while Long Haul fuels up. Fortunately, light in such a solar rich environment is possibly their most renewable energy source.
"I believe with the materials supplied by the creature, Long Haul, that your trumpet is safe," he remarks, turning an amused smile on the lime green mech.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Apr 28, 2007 22:07:10 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron sets the aforementioned chalice down on the ground. It's painfully plain. He comments, "Just as soon as you're done and Perceptor has had his fill, I will be happy to get some use out of that chalice there." See, he's going to drink. Just not now. He doesn't make any attempt to contradict the claim of self-sacrifice.
He doesn't care about trumpets. He'd melt down his scales if it would be useful. This is why when asked what he does, he doesn't say he's a practising chaplain. Emirate Xaaron tends to think that Primus will forgive just about anything aside from selling one's soul to Unicron. Primus is practical, right? Can't fault His children for being the same.
He does as Perceptor directs. He seems deft enough with the little knife, but he doesn't have a knife-fighter's grip, just a civilian's hold. Idly, he speculates, "Perhaps we could make a glider out of the wings. If it can support the creature, and the creature could lift me, surely the wings could support any one of us." Air superiority through hang-gliding! Okay, not the greatest of ideas. Might useful somehow, though.
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Post by Long Haul on Apr 28, 2007 22:16:21 GMT -5
Long Haul nods as Perceptor gives his inventory (or lack there-of), and finishes drinking his fill. The dragon was a large creature, and there's still some left, but not a great deal.
The transport shrugs in response to Xaaron's glider suggestion. "We'd need something to, uhm, glide from, wouldn't we? 'Sides, anything we grab has gotta fit in my bed for me to be able to transform. And I wanna be able to transform." He strolls towards the dragon and once more retrieves his welder from subspace, although by now most of the work is done. He looks around to survey the work, but rather than going back to gutting the creature, he begins working on sorting what has already been removed into files by general function (as near as he can determine) and ease of transfer into his bed. "You can pile me decently high, but I still got my limits."
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Post by Perceptor on Apr 29, 2007 10:42:47 GMT -5
Perceptor scrupulously divides the remaining fuel equally, taking a page from Long Haul and shaping a bit of external plating from the dragon into a vessel for his portion. With the air of someone habitually accustomed to working through refueling breaks, Perceptor considers what's left as he sips at his portion.
"Short of remaining here and completing a full dissassembly of the creature, I believe the most useful components have been retrieved. The struggle will have alerted any similar creatures in the area, as well as possibly any inhabitants. I do not think it is wise to remain here much longer. Perhaps later, the remains may be retrieved and brought back to whatever base camp we establish, if we remain in this area. The current potential returns on a further investment of time, however, are minimal. At best," he explains, tucking the now emptied improvised vessel away in subspace.
"Perhaps the wings might be compacted down," he adds absently, already examining the structure for points where they might fold up. In such a heavily forested area with such thick vegetation to tangle in large structures like that, Perceptor theorizes that the creature must have some way to fold them away for movement through the dense growth. The leading edges of the spars aren't damaged enough to indicate that the techno-dragon was in the habit of striking them against trees in passing.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Apr 29, 2007 12:10:23 GMT -5
Sometimes, a cup is just a cup. Except when it's a Kup. Emirate Xaaron fills up his chalice with the dragon's... dragon's blood? He supposes that would be the term. He notes how equally Perceptor divided the allotment with a bit of dismay. Perceptor is actually useful. He needs it more than Xaaron does. Emirate Xaaron doesn't raise a protest this time, though. He just takes a draught of the fuel.
He declares, "Tastes divine. Granted, given that the last thing in my mouth came from a sewer, anything would be an improvement." He finishes his portion, quickly but not greedily or rudely, merely efficiently. It doesn't seem like those 'stitches' on his mouth impair him in drinking. They certainly don't shut him up from talking.
Looking at the wings, he paces around the dragon's remains and speculates, "I would guess that they fold, somehow. Swoop always found a way to fit through doors. I do agree that we ought to get a move on to the structures that you sighted earlier."
Once he stops gawking at the dragon, he moves to help Long Haul with the piling, for he is the loading wench.
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Post by Long Haul on Apr 29, 2007 12:20:36 GMT -5
Long Haul snorts and glances back at the others. "Never had to deal with sewers. A few rough bars here and there... and a lot of Mixmaster's brews. His ain't always watcha call safe, but they generally taste pretty damn good. He may get around to poisoning us some day, intentionally or not, but if he does, 'least we'll go out with a good taste in our mouths."
Once he's done with this bit of sharing (which probably demonstrates quite well that even when the group that would become the Constructicons were good, they weren't always nice), he steps away from his piles and transforms. "Go ahead and load 'em all up, then, so's we can move on. Least now we don't have to worry about 'stealth.' Like you guys said, if there's anything else there, it knows we're here, anyways."
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Post by Perceptor on Apr 29, 2007 12:54:28 GMT -5
Expediency is not a term that is in Perceptor's overwhelming vocabulary. Not one, at least, that he acknowledges; Xaaron will have to find another way to crawl to the bottom of any supposed pecking order.
He won't be successful while Perceptor is around. It would probably horrify Xaaron to know that Megatron's life had been in Perceptor's hands - not once, but twice - and was spared because, while expedient and even justifiable, the opposite would have flown in the face of Optimus's admittedly rigorous moral standing. Compared to that, lending equal treatment and consideration to a mech who's "usefulness" is simply not yet understood is a forgone conclusion.
Perceptor listens absently to Long Haul's and Xaaron's conversation as he continues examining the wings. It's a puzzle and a challenge now, and Perceptor is determined to solve it. Not quite to the exclusion of all else, but nearly. This is why a scientist - specifically one named Perceptor - should never be placed in charge of an expedition to a strange new world. Fortunately, he's the last one who would think of assuming such a role. Intentionally, at any rate.
As Xaaron begins loading the various materials in Long Haul's bed, Perceptor studies the wings another few moments more, giving it one last valiant attempt. There's some sort of mechanism along several of the edges, and, given the chance, the membrane seems to want to fold along particular, almost set creases. A few moments more stretches on, until, with a last bit of fiddling, the wings suddenly fold back along their joints, membrane folding neatly up to tuck between the spars. With a triumphant, "Ah ha!" Perceptor turns, holding out two long, thin bundles that should, in theory, fit corner to corner in Long Haul's bed.
Of course, by this time, Xaaron's already made great inroads into getting everything loaded, being almost halfway done. With a brief look of consternation, Perceptor bustles over to assist, a look of sheepish apology on his features as he shows Xaaron the requested wings.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Apr 29, 2007 13:45:46 GMT -5
Oh yes, Perceptor would horrify Emirate Xaaron. It isn't the bottom of the pecking order that Xaaron wants. It is the most efficient use of resources possible. What he going to in combat - taunt the enemy? His place is behind the scenes. Being behind the scenes doesn't involve a lot of energy. It does feel nice to be refueled, though, especially after that run through the sewers. He grimaces and protests, "It's not like I meant to drink sewer liquid. That was purely accidental."
As the banter continues on, he does indeed get Long Haul half-loaded while Perceptor is busy poking at the wings. Flicking the blade and chalice clean, Emirate Xaaron puts them away. He considers the folded wings and says, "Ah, excellent. It may be flat here, but if we run into canyons, they may be useful. Load those up last. They look fragile. We can use some of the cording," the dragon's tendons, perhaps, "to lash everything down, once we're done."
He continues with the loading, taking the left side of Long Haul.
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Post by Long Haul on Apr 29, 2007 14:00:40 GMT -5
Long Haul isn't trying to get anywhere in the pecking order, but will probably land at the bottom. Because he's Long Haul and the universe hates him.
"Hey, I ain't one to question another's tastes," Long Haul answers in response to Xaaron's protests. "Like it or accidental, ain't no shavings off my chin either way." He waits as the others continue loading, then observes, "Not sure how much use them cords are gonna be. I'm shifting it all, anyway. Things attached to my sides aren't gonna come back right in place, but everything else should be good. Just let me know when you two are done."
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Post by Perceptor on Apr 29, 2007 14:17:58 GMT -5
Perceptor nods, and moves to the right side to assist Xaaron in finishing up the disposition of the materials. Long Haul's comment about Xaaron's idea to cord everything down gets a thoughtful look. The load quickly assembles, though likely not as quickly as Long Haul is accustomed to being loaded. A bureaucrat and a scientist are not exactly designed for heavy labor, even if they had been careful to render the constituent parts down to rather manageable sizes.
"Depending on the state of that settlement, provided it does, indeed, exist," Perceptor observes, "we should consider reaming there for the night. The solar cycle appears to be dwindling, and, on Earth, many of the more dangerous creatures, particularly those of a scavenger or predatory nature, become most active at dusk and during the night."
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