|
Post by Long Haul on Aug 15, 2007 12:14:51 GMT -5
Long Haul nods and sighs at Perceptor. "Sorry... just tryin' to get him back online, is all." He looks up at Omega Supreme's offer, however, and brightens. Omega Supreme can do construction? Well, no. Omega Supreme is willing to learn construction. Still, that about makes the transporter's day!
"Sure, Omega! Soon as we get you fixed up, I'd be happy to have your help!" And he genuinely does sound happy about it. He turns, then, towards the exit, but pauses at Kup's final speech to Slingshot. Constructibot studies Aerialbot for a moment, and wonders what crimes his future self committed against this one, that he should be so intolerant. How long will it take before Long Haul can redeem himself for sins of future-past?
He doesn't say anything to the Aerialbot, or gesture at all, before looking away guiltily and turning towards the camera once more. "I'll just, erm, get you hooked back up, Omega. And then we'll see what else we got going on out there, huh?" And with that, he walks towards the hatch.
OOC: I'm leaving this thread, and will be posting into the Outside one when Screwdriver's turn comes up there.
|
|
Wedge
Minor
NOT a reckless teen-bot
Posts: 413
|
Post by Wedge on Aug 15, 2007 20:06:49 GMT -5
"My knees are fine," says Wedge, crooking said joints gingerly. His knee guards and joints only look charred. Looks like Swerve will only have to worry about his scrapped elbows then. He watches curiously as Swerve seems to be looking for something. It's been a while since Wedge has been subjected to any sort of real repairs. Periodic tune-ups, sure. But this? Probably not since his greener days in the whole construction business, then he wasn't even conscious to witness the repairs being done.
"Err what are you looking for?" If Swerve's looking for removable arm panels, the panels on Wedge's forearms are simple enough to pry off. If he's looking in the Buildbot's upper arms, that means shovels and treads are going to have to be removed.
He looks up at Xaaron's suggestion of getting a command structure, confusion evident in his face and voice. "Wait, look for a leader? What about Optimus, isn't he here too?" Speaking of the Prime, Wedge finally notices that he hasn't heard the leader over the radio waves at any time since his arrival, nor has he seen any sign. He has yet to see Prime's pieces and even then, it'd take a moment for him to recognize them. After all, his Optimus is a fire truck, not a sixteen wheeler with a disappearing trailer.
|
|
|
Post by Swerve on Aug 15, 2007 22:36:58 GMT -5
Swerve takes a moment from his search to get snippy over the radio, then fixes a quick look on Wedge. The angry yellow glow behind the bronze sheen of his optics isn't bright, but it might be visible all the same. "Gotta knock out your pain receptors," he says bluntly, "unless you wanna feel your elbows getting taken apart." That's about as charitable a tone as Swerve does. A panel on Wedge's forearm clicks open, slides free, and Swerve's back to working in sullen silence, shutting down receptor feeds before loosening a couple bolts so he can get at the important parts. He isn't remotely as meticulous or neat as Perceptor; it's meatball surgery to those familiar with the phrase. Swerve goes about it with a brusque efficiency, not overly gentle as he works free one elbow cap and sets it to the side. Dearth of appropriate tools notwithstanding, the whole thing is basic work for him, really. Not that anyone needs to know that. The other cap follows its fellow in short order and the ruined servo and its brackets hit the floor not long after. He'll clean up once he's done. Patching in the replacement is quick once he rummages up one to fit. He sets the caps back in place but otherwise leaves it open in case he has to go back and tweak something before all is said and done. "Give it a try," he tells Wedge while he rounds the table to get started on the other arm. The work isn't perfect, not by a long shot, but it should be more than good enough. He'd just like to be sure it moves properly.
|
|
|
Post by Emirate Xaaron on Aug 16, 2007 8:34:53 GMT -5
Still holding the dragonette, who may be a put off by the lingering paint fumes clinging to Emirate Xaaron's body, Emirate Xaaron tries to stay out of the way. When Perceptor proves himself able to understand the concept of triage, he allows himself a quick, fierce smile. As long as he assumes the worst of Perceptor, he cannot help but be pleasantly surprised, and he could use some pleasant surprises right about now.
Emirate Xaaron certainly wouldn't suggest determining leadership by who can open the Matrix, as they apparently did in one possible future of his universe. For one thing, they would need to find a Matrix. For another, he fears that he could open it.
He's talked to Primus. He knows the Watchmaker's own tongue. Emirate Xaaron is no chosen one. He is merely an Autobot, no different from any other, but he's an Autobot who can take a uniquely backdoor approach to sacred artifacts. Open for me, or I'll tell your very Creator what a wretched, useless little lump of metal you're being, refusing to serve your sacred duty in our time of need.
Leadership based on anything but public approval and personal competence and suitability is balderdash. Without public approval, a leader's hands are tied. Without the needed skill, a leader's hands are clumsy and apt to knock over his own king on the full-stasis board. Mystic artifacts are no way of judging a leader's competence. Emirate Xaaron wanted Optimus Prime in charge of the army because of his prowess as a military leader. He could have cared less about the sacred artifact inside of the semi.
The Decepticon method of brute force and intimidation mixed in with coercion is just as bad. One should strive to be a leader that one's enemies fear, not one's own troops. Fearful troops are hateful troops, and hateful troops will stab a leader in the back. Emirate Xaaron's troops may have cursed his name at times, but he remembers well how concerned his troops were for him, over the smallest things, like whenever a Decepticon raid forced him to lay low and keep out of sight for a few weeks.
Snapped out of his mulling, Emirate Xaaron quirks a smile at how deftly Perceptor manipulates Kup into doing exactly what Perceptor wants. Guileless? Perceptor? Hah. No.
He suppresses a little irritation at Wedge's comment about an Optimus Prime. Emirate Xaaron says slowly, "No live Optimus Prime has been found here. In any eventuality, I have never answered to an Optimus Prime, if we intended on falling back on prior chains of command," which Kup did suggest, during their little chat.
|
|
Arcee
Minor
Token Girl-Bot
Posts: 330
|
Post by Arcee on Aug 16, 2007 14:04:12 GMT -5
Not much for Arcee to do, now that they've arrived and repairs are underway.
She'll head outside and see how the others are doing. Her own wounds will need tending to, but she's not in any immediate danger, not like Nightbeat or that strange Bumblebee.
She hates this, feeling so useless. She's not a medical officer, not a technician, not much more than a joyriding warrior with delusions of maturity.
((and I'll be moving to the outside thread now.))
|
|
Wheelie
Rookie
Can't sleep. Sharkticons will eat me.
Posts: 191
|
Post by Wheelie on Aug 16, 2007 14:20:14 GMT -5
Wheelie, meanwhile, was rather shaken from the flight. It was the first time he could truly remember being up in the air, let alone inside another mechanoid, alongside other mechanoids, one of whom was actually a bit smaller than himself!
"If that was flying through the air, then nothing really can compare! I'll say this to all, both foe and friend, Wheelie never wants to do that again!"
|
|
|
Post by Slingshot on Aug 16, 2007 14:36:44 GMT -5
Slingshot involuntarily straightens under Kup's direct gaze. Sullen anger tinges his thoughts - of course he'd protect the stupid green guy if that's what he was supposed to do. It wasn't like he disobeyed orders for no reason.1
"Yeah, sure," he finally says, grudgingly. "I can do that. Kup."
He watches the old Autobot head over to Perceptor's tender ministrations. That ought to keep him busy for a while, and the wounds had kinda been bugging Slingshot.
No wounds on him, so he's got no reason to stick around for the guys doing repairs. Lucky him.
He meets Long Haul's stare just as the Constructicon glances away. Feh.
"Let's do this," he mutters and walks towards Omega Supreme's door.
1. Slingshot suffers from a fairly normal problem of selective memory.
Next post of mine will be in the Outside Omega Supreme thread after Long Haul posts in there.
|
|
Omega Supreme
Minor
Shorter and Coloured Funny but Still Angry as the Pit
Posts: 456
|
Post by Omega Supreme on Aug 16, 2007 21:00:53 GMT -5
Long Haul sounds cheerful! Omega Supreme couldn't possibly be the cause. That would be ludicrous.
Still, if he had a face, he'd be half-smiling, the shy look of someone too afraid of being beset by tragedy if he dares to attempt a complete smile.
|
|
|
Post by Perceptor on Aug 16, 2007 21:06:16 GMT -5
"As soon as we may, Long Haul, as soon as we may. Thank you," Perceptor replies to the green mech in response to his observation about bringing Nightbeat back online.
He suppresses a sigh as Long Haul heads somewhat dejectedly out to comply; things are going far more smoothly than Perceptor had anticipated when the extent of divergence between the various realities and times represented had become clear. There is, however, still room for improvement. Of course, while he is wishing that Long Haul would not be forced to prove and re-prove himself time and time again for each new arrival, he might as well add a wistful desire that everyone were already repaired and back on their feet again.
That, however, will be the work of many days yet. While those less and more lightly injured - the ambulatory mechs - should, barring significant complications, be fully functional again by nightfall or dawn at the latest, Nightbeat and Jazz will require days of work to complete their repairs, and Bumblebee potentially as well. Granted, a portion of that time will need to be set aside to create the fabrication units necessary to complete the production of their parts - raw armor plating and re-engineered parts to replace those too badly damaged or destroyed to repair - it will still be the work of several days before all three are once again on their feet.
As Kup hops up onto the repair station, Perceptor pauses, turning his attention over to where Swerve is swiftly, if almost brutally, replacing Wedge's elbows. The racer works with all the brisk and brusque efficiency of a combat medic. A gruff and surly combat medic, however the mechanical and technical repair aptitude is quite obviously present. How much... remains to be seen.
Even if Perceptor were privy to all the discussion about choosing a leader, he would have little to contribute. He lacks the necessary skills to be an effective leader, and is quite well enough aware of that fact. The last thing they need in a leader is a mech who is prone to becoming distracted by some new lifeform or odd crystal matrix. No, he is perfectly content to simply step back into his accustomed role--
However, as he stares at the rent torn in Kup's leg, he isn't even entirely certain what that role is here anymore. Unless Swerve turns out to be his own reality's version of Ratchet, a repair and engineering genius, Perceptor is the closest approximation that they currently have to represent anything resembling a CMO. A lack of raw materials, a dearth of spare and replacement components, and improper, inadequate tools aside, they must repair and prepare these mechs, not only to survive today, but to eventually, likely - most assuredly - return to battle. Repeatedly.
Perceptor cannot help but wonder how Ratchet had managed to face this realization, and had faced it so unflinchingly and so often during his tenure as Autobot CMO.
"Hm. I believe that I should examine your cranium, as well, Kup," Perceptor replies, his tone a study of bland and wry amusement as he sets to disabling tactile sensors and pain receptors. "Your swift capitulation is cause for some concern. There must assuredly be a component jarred loose in your CPU or personality matrix."
Ah, sarcasm and humor... the panacea relied upon to drown out pensive introspection by better mechs than he for many millenia. Perhaps that is how Ratchet had faced his duty so unflinchingly for so long.
|
|
|
Post by Kup on Aug 16, 2007 21:26:06 GMT -5
"You touch my head to do anything behind helping me get the remainder of these bullets out," Kup says, absently picking at one that's still lodged in his 'crown,' above his left optic, "and I'll give you 'cause for concern.'" Despite his words, however, Kup's own tone is light, joking. Then he just shrugs. "You're right, though. We've got a lot of real young mechs here. I mean, to me, most of you all seem like kids half the time, anyway, but it ain't usually near this bad. I figure we'll have enough to deal with from them without me misbehaving myself."
He sighs, then scans the room. Speaking of kids... "Wheelie?" he calls gently to the orange Minibot. Wheelie doesn't know him, and that... actually kind of hurts. But what hurts more is seeing that strange symbol on his chest. "Wheelie, d'you mind coming over here a moment, lad?"
|
|
Wedge
Minor
NOT a reckless teen-bot
Posts: 413
|
Post by Wedge on Aug 16, 2007 22:40:44 GMT -5
"You definitely don't look alright," mutters Wedge after hearing the racer over broadband. It's after Swerve answers to his question that he speaks up. "Oh, um, thanks." No, Wedge doesn't particularly feel like sensing what's going on in his elbows as the other works. With his pain receptors off, all Wedge can feel is the on and off bouts of pressure at his joints.
He's not really sure what to make of this Autobot, in fact, he's not sure of what to make of all of these Autobots. They're all so different...not only from him, but from each other it seems.
Xaaron's never answered to an Optimus Prime? Wedge resists the urge to frown, but the troubled look no doubt carries to his optics. But Optimus carries the leadership Matrix, that makes him, well, the leader, right? Perhaps Emirate Xaaron's Optimus was different, Wedge can vouch for his own leader's competence. After all, they did end up defeating the Decepticons and Predacons, right? Wedge has no idea of how different Emirate Xaaron's world might be.
As for any thoughts on leadership. No matter how high Wedge's ranking seemed back in his world, he's just the leader of the Build Team. Being just the leader of the Build Team is something much preferred by him though.
He's kicked from his thoughts at Swerve's order. Eagerly, Wedge lifts up the previously worked on arm and tests out its ability to move. The fact that he can flex is a definite improvement. "S'good. Er...feels a bit rough in some places but nothing some lubricant can't fix."
|
|
|
Post by Swerve on Aug 17, 2007 15:33:31 GMT -5
Swerve will pretend he didn't hear Wedge muttering. He didn't lie when he said he was fine; he can still move, no fluid lines are severed, all his limbs are attached and work – so what if one sits funny right now – and he can fix himself up once he's done with the kid. He doesn't see much sense in tying up his hands and Perceptor's just to repair him. He's had worse, at any rate.
"Good," he grunts instead when Wedge affirms his new elbow. "Yeah, it's gonna be rough at first," he adds, already taking apart the second. "The mech overheated and blew a piston on the track, got rammed a few too many times… fuel tank ruptured." In goes another servo, not a perfect match to the first but Wedge will just have to live with that, and Swerve sets the brackets and caps, then gives the orange mech a sardonic half-smile. "He finished second, fifth, and sixth. Now, try this one." And back around the table he goes to close up so he doesn't have to sit and wait.
|
|
|
Post by Emirate Xaaron on Aug 17, 2007 22:45:13 GMT -5
Mostly, those who don't have any use in here are filing out, Xaaron notes. He should probably exit soon; Perceptor can fix him later, after the warriors are done. In fact, after he listens to Swerve's most fascinating little story, he makes his way for the still-open door, picking his way around the entering Autobots. To all and sundry who may care to listen he announces, "I am going to walk the dragon."
Primus, that sounds like a euphemism for something. At least Nightbeat isn't awake to mock him.
OOC: I'm out of here, unless someone wants to hold me up or ask me something. Otherwise, I'll either join the outside thread or skip to interim.
|
|
Omega Supreme
Minor
Shorter and Coloured Funny but Still Angry as the Pit
Posts: 456
|
Post by Omega Supreme on Aug 17, 2007 22:57:05 GMT -5
Omega Supreme watches Long Haul, outside of himself, worried and concerned for the Cosntrutibot, and he prepares to close the door, as soon as the other Autobots get the dead, mangled jet into him. He looks worse than Blitzwing did when Omega Supreme stepped on him. That's saying quite a bit!
|
|
Wheelie
Rookie
Can't sleep. Sharkticons will eat me.
Posts: 191
|
Post by Wheelie on Aug 17, 2007 23:51:33 GMT -5
Wheelie perks up when he hears the old Autobot call his name. The last few days mark the only time in his life he's ever even seen other Transformers, but something's noticeably different about Kup, even to his eyes.
Kup is old. Way old. Older than dirt old. Granted, Wheelie might actually be fairly old himself, but one, he doesn't know that, and two his personality is firmly that of a child.
He gets up and walks over to Kup. "Big 'bot asks for Wheelie to talk? I'll listen up and let you squawk!"
|
|