Sickbay Commando

[Impactor/"Imp"]

OOC: Day 19. Event Horizon Sickbay. Open to Autobots, Maximals, etc.

Impactor is looking a bit more like himself, but repairs are far from over. The medics have taken a break for now to allow his systems to integrate the new parts, though Impactor can tell just by feel that that's not going as well as it should. Things are just not taking - not completely, not correctly.

"It's not going to last," he says to the mechanoid sitting next to him. He lifts his hand and gestures to a newly repaired arm. "Whatever bit in my brain that could make parts into my parts seems to have been blown away."

He grunts. Attached to the bed is a mechanical arm that has a thin, flat monitor on the end. He pulls it a little closer to him in order to look over more of the files. It's a lot to take in, although some of the mind blowing things come from his own reality. Or is that realities? Planet destroying robot gods? Divergent timelines? Corrupt Matrix? Someone shot Primus in the face? Slagging Hot Rod is a Prime?!¹

Finally, he snorts and shakes his head. "Besides, don't you guys have living Autobots to spend your resources on?"

¹ All things considered, it's probably a good thing that no one detailed the Wrecker involvement in Time Wars during Xaaron's and Rodimus's report on their home reality.

[Emirate Xaaron]

Emirate Xaaron is being completely annoying (well, probably in actuality; not intentionally in theory) and sitting around in the sickbay when he has the free time. There's a stack of datapads balanced on his lap, and he frowns thoughtfully as Impactor complains about his parts not 'taking'. He raises a hand, palm-up, gesturing, and he rambles a bit, since this really isn't his field at all, "Maybe a nanite tagging issue? Some kind of auto-immune disorder?"

Really, Octopunch missed shooting Grimlock in the back and the shot bounced and hit Primus, and then Micromasters beat up Octopunch.

"Hmm, I'm not sure you're not alive," Emirate Xaaron muses, looking down at a fine for some busted fire hydrants and lamp posts. "There's... some life force to you, but it seems a bit, hmm, I want to say... unattached? Unsettled? Like you're not all there in you."

He reaches up and over to try to poke Impactor on the arm, as if to check that Impactor's still there.

Then Emirate Xaaron sighs and concedes, "But if you really don't want to be an Autobot any more, you do have the right to walk out, of course. If you want to retire as a burnout, you can cast adrift. Otherwise, there's work to be done, and you can't do any of it if you're falling to pieces."

[Shanodin]

The door to the medbay slides open and Botanica enters. She's in plant mode as usual.

She nods at the pair as she heads over to check the readings coming off their new arrival. Botanica looks... tired and drawn, much as she did after that little debacle in the park several days previous. She's been too long off ship, too long below, and she's not had time to rest or recover yet.

But there are things which need doing, even more so now that she's formally heading up engineering and medical. Wedge is simply too engrossed with the project Xaaron gave him. So she'll rest later, once she makes sure their new arrival isn't going to...die...on...them.... Wait.

"I...my apologies, but I've only just gotten back on ship and haven't been fully briefed on the circumstances of your arrival, ah...Impactor, is it? I am Botanica."

She does not offer Impactor her hand. The new Autobot... unsettles her. He feels like a broken spark, but he's from Emirate Xaaron's reality. They don't have sparks. She's a bit afraid of what touching him might tell her.

[Impactor/"Imp"]

"Slagged if I know," Impactor grumbles out irritably as Emirate Xaaron puts forth his theories on why the body parts aren't taking. "That's for the eggheads to figure out." He seems... impatient with Emirate Xaaron's talk of alive/not alive/unattached life force and whatever else. It's not that he's never heard the former councilman talk about these things, but he tended to tune it out then, too. The poke in the arm goes ignored (Emirate Xaaron will find him qutie solid, of course), but the last words elicit a glare.

His hand clenches into an angry fist and he snaps, "I didn't say that!" Implied it? Sure. But he didn't actually say it. "Blasted buzzard," he grunts as he looks back to the terminal. Again! Again, he manages it! Impactor's being manipulated by Emirate Xaaron, and he knows he's being manipulated, and still he can't find a way to counter. That was always the most frustrating part, that knowing Xaaron's pushing his buttons doesn't do anything to prevent it.

He looks up as the plant approaches, and his eyes widen for a moment, despite having gotten some warning when going over the local chain of command. The only reaction beyond that, however, is just a shake of his head as he listens to what she's got to say. She probably deals enough with the shocked reactions and disbelieving stares, and besides, Impactor's got other things on his mind.

"Yeah, Impactor. Not sure what to say about my arrival, though, since I'm not really clear on what's going on here. One moment I was in the radioactive control room of a reactor meant to turn Cybertron into a blasted warship, the next I'm in a room with a bunch of metal boulders, a couple of tanks, and a whole lot of confusing. I've spent the time since then having my old broke parts being replaced with new broke parts."

It's probably for the best that Botanica doesn't offer her hand, since Impactor currently has a harpoon where his right hand should be. An actual hand does sit on on a tray next to the medical berth, on hand (ha ha) in case Impactor needs to switch the harpoon out, but the dead Wrecker tends to stick with the harpoon unless he's got a good reason not to.

[Emirate Xaaron]

"I think you're pretty much slagged any which way, anyhow, but I'm glad you didn't say that, because I think you'd regret it," Emirate Xaaron banters back, but there's a bit of pain and tiredness that isn't usually there in his voice. It's hard to notice, purposefully suppressed, in fact, but that doesn't make it not there.

Botanica looks to be recovering from some problems of her own, problems which are likely far greater than Emirate Xaaron's own, so he straightens and greets her with a casual wave. "Ah, my dear Botanica! Hello there." He hikes a thumb at her and notes, "She's head of the tech boys." Emirate Xaaron peers over at what Impactor is reading and asks, "Have you gotten to the part about women yet? We have them. Women, that is."

Then, he looks back to Botanica and explains, "There should be a medical file written up on his condition and what Perceptor's done on him so far, but how should I put this..." Since Impactor didn't venture it himself in that summary, Emirate Xaaron spreads his hands and sighs. "He spent some time as a mindless zombie after he died before becoming a, ah, mindful zombie."

[Shanodin]

"Hrm," she says at Impactor's summary, looking back down at her readings, "That explains the extensive repairs and treatments, but not why the repairs aren't-"

Botanica breaks off and just stares at Emirate Xaaron for a few seconds before schooling her expression into something a bit more neutral.

"I...see," she says," That is going to make things...difficult, I fear."

She starts to scan through Perceptor's report. After a minute, she cuts her eyes back up at Impactor.

"Er, Perceptor noted that your brain module is considerably damaged. As I understand it, that is a rather vital component for people from your reality set, like the spark housing in my own. That kind of damage...." Botanica trails off, then shakes her head and smiles wanly.

"You must be terribly stubborn."

She sighs and looks back at Xaaron. "Is it at all possible to repair those things?"

[Sentinel Prime]

Sentinel Prime is just coming off a Rock Watch shift, and as the conclusion of that duty, it is up to him to bring out yer dead.

He's put on a tough face, something at which he excels, but Sentinel Prime is really quite bothered, inside. He hasn't seen much death, face to face. History tapes, security videos, and simulations are one thing - seeing an Autobot arrive twitching on the rocks, body ruined by a particle cannon, and watching his life slip away in an instant is horrible. There was nothing Sentinel Prime could do, not even if he was a trained medic. He couldn't even strike back as a warrior and do anything about the Autobot's murderer, some unknown figure a whole reality away. This stupid reality seems designed to make him feel helpless and miserable.

Sentinel Prime isn't sure who the guy is, if he had friends here or what. He looks somewhat familiar in a vague way, but Autobots back home just don't have the clear marks of turning into a helicopter, like this guy does. At least, they didn't turn into helicopters when Sentinel Prime left home. With the advent of the Twins, who knows? The corpse was probably a bright, cheerful orange when he was alive, though death makes that a bit hard to tell. Sentinel Prime doesn't really want to be touching him, as if death by particle cannon could somehow be contagious, but he has the poor fellow slung over one broad shoulder.

At the sight of officers, Sentinel Prime does what a good suck-up must and stands at attention, saluting as best he can, given his burden, first Emirate Xaaron and then Botanica, but looking at them makes him look at their 'patient', and looking at that dead man makes him sputter, "Impactor Major!?"

Sentinel Prime looks like he's seen a ghost, possibly the kind of ghost that is discussed at Decepticon summer camps and is rumoured to kill all the really slutty girls.

[Impactor/"Imp"]

"Yeah, I got to mentions of 'women,'" Impactor admits, frowning at the monitor and flicking his fingers across it, switching to a different file. "I just haven't gotten to the bit that explains why I should care." He glances up at Xaaron as the Emirate¹ explains his 'zombie' status, and takes a moment to glower at that description, but doesn't correct him.

He does snort and look towards the ceiling when Botanica explains that things will be 'difficult.' Yeah, no kidding? Wasn't his idea to waste time trying to fix the unfixable. He shrugs. "Yes, it's vital, no, I don't know why I'm still functioning - I know why I was functioning back on Cybertron, but here, it just makes no sense." But then, even on Cybertron, he shouldn't have been able to shake off Flame's control. Wasn't he just a pile of animated parts? But that's for other people to worry about.

He looks up at Xaaron when Botanica asks the Autobot leader whether or not it can be fixed. Would be nice, wouldn't it? He's then distracted, however, by the arrival of a blue robot who seems to know him, but... "Major?" he asks, confused.

And then he sees the body that Sentinel Prime is carrying.

"Sandstorm!" he shouts, eyes wide. He starts to struggle to get up from his berth, injuries be damned.

¹ Don't blame me. Blame Marvel.

[Emirate Xaaron]

Emirate Xaaron explains to Botanica, "Usually, any kind of major damage to a brain module will cause true death, the kind that can only be overcome by uploading a savestate into a fresh brain module, if a savestate is available. There are all kinds of reasons why a savestate might not be available - I tend not to keep them, myself, because it would be frankly disastrous if the 'cons ever got their hands on a copy of my brain. However, some sorts of minor damage to a brain module can be repaired, or if a module is functional but irreparable, I think the medics might download the contents and upload them to a fresh blank, provided that download capacity is still functional. I was a physicist, not a physician, so I don't really know the gory details." Emirate Xaaron wiggles his fingers, absently. "And I was always more interested in the metaphysical arguments about whether or not savestate resurrection is functionally equivalent to cloning or not."

Botanica is correct in calling Impactor stubborn, but Emirate Xaaron's always been good at finessing a mind not to be changed.

"Yeah, I have no idea, either," Emirate Xaaron admits, shrugging. "They just get mad if you look at their upper torsos too long." Arcee did, anyway, and Emirate Xaaron had a completely innocent reason why he was looking at her torso, anyway, that involved trying to figure out where she keeps her headlights. "Lucky for me, you don't mind if I talk to the headlights."

That is what Impactor gets for being so tall!

Then Sentinel Prime wanders in with Sandstorm's body, and Emirate Xaaron's expression falters for a moment. Yes, why not just toss in, oh, Rack'n'Ruin's body while they're at it and make this a party? He sighs and returns the salute, if only to let Sentinel Prime know he can drop that ridiculous parade stance. And, wait, Sentinel Prime knows an Impactor... Major?

When Impactor tries to get up, Emirate Xaaron sighs and tries to clamp a hand on Impactor's shoulder to keep him down. This probably won't actually work and may result in Emirate Xaaron getting dragged along.

[Shanodin]

Botanica frowns as Xaaron and Impactor further discuss the Wrecker's undead state. This is very Not Right^tm. You die and you either stay dead- unless plot determines that you come back to life and totally ruin someone's day. You don't run around as an escaped extra from a Night of the Living Dead remake.

Botanica is not used to being saluted at all, and so really leaves Sentinel's gesture unanswered for much longer than is polite.

"Hello Sentinel Prime...oh," she give a quick...something that might have dreamed of being a salute at one time, the sighs, "Another DOA? Just-"

She whirls on Impactor, joining Emirate Xaaron in attempting to stop the zombie Wrecker from rising. She, at least, is more in front of Impactor than Xaaron, and may present a more difficult obstacle to move aside.

"He can't be helped. You can. Settle down," she says, tone commanding, "I'll not have you wasting Perceptor's work by overtaxing yourself too soon. Settle down I say."

A bit softer, she adds, "It's horrible, but...it happens. I'm sorry."

Because obviously this new DOA is someone who means a lot to Impactor.

[Sentinel Prime]

Figures, Botanica doesn't know protocol. At least she isn't courting a loser information broker. What makes Sentinel Prime drop his at-attention pose, however, is the one who isn't a ranking officer at all, the Impactor.

Sentinel Prime looks more than a little worried, rocking back on his heels, when it looks like the living dead man is about to rush him. He stammers, "Wrong Impactor, I guess. I... look, I'll just drop off... Sandstorm? here, and I'll be going."

Meeting the actual Impactor Major would have been... interesting. Impactor named Ultra 'Ultra'! Sentinel Prime wishes he was Ultra Magnus or at least had his job. If only he'd been built before the Great War and had a drill sergeant with a harpoon for a hand, things might have been different!

Sentinel Prime carefully tries to sidle over to a spare medical berth to gently lay Sandstorm down, confirming with a downcast sigh, "Yes, ma'am."

[Impactor/"Imp"]

Impactor manages, despite Emirate Xaaron and Botanica's efforts, to get halfway off the berth, one foot on the floor, partially straightened as he prepares to move to a fully standing position. He looks down at Emirate Xaaron and then Botanica, deep, angry frown pulling down the corners of his lips.

Finally, his gaze settles on Botanica. Such a strange creature, that, but he's pretty sure this has more to do with the 'Maximal' business than the 'female' business.

"You were right about one thing earlier. I am stubborn," he declares firmly. He gestures to the berth that Sentinel Prime is setting down Sandstorm's body. "Now. I am going to go over there. I may not be an egghead of any sort, and he may be beyond help, but I am going to see what I can of what happened. You two can either help me, hinder me, or stay out of my way, and I'll leave it to you to figure out which option's going to go farthest in undoing Perceptor's work."

With that, he goes back to trying to get to his feet, although he does hesitate a moment to look up at the blue robot. "Wait a minute- did she call you Sentinel Prime?"

[Emirate Xaaron]

Emirate Xaaron thinks quickly and orders, "Sentinel, put Sandstorm on a mobile medical cart and bring Sandstorm right over here, actually," and he gestures to the rack of carts, along the line of reasoning that Impactor being able to look at Sandstorm from right where he is without having to get up and move will at least reduce the chances of catastrophe.

Checking to make sure there aren't any important sensor or fluid lines connected to Impactor, and if there are, checking to see if there's any slack, he observes rather acidly, "Now then, you were the one complaining about us wasting resources - I suppose it is all well and fine if you do it? People do indeed arrive dead or dying often enough - I've done it, myself." His expression turns darkly humorous. "Sometimes, we can save them - one of the Jazzes arrived torn in half by his Megatron - but sometimes, there's just... nothing to be done but check the time stamp." He fervently hopes it won't say the 7th of January, 1989, by the human reckoning. Hands clenching, he says slowly, "I hate when that happens."

Still checking for lines, Emirate Xaaron corrects, absently, "He's not our Sentinel Prime. Nothing like him. Just shares the name. He's not even a Matrix bearer."

[Shanodin]

Botanica meets the Wrecker's gaze without flinching in the least, her expression likely just as determined as Impactor's. She really does understand Impactor's desire to see what happened to his friend; had that body belonged to one of her old crew, for example, or Primus forbid, her Rattrap, she'd likely be raising just as much of a fuss.

That doesn't change the fact that the living must always take priority over the dead.

She tries to place both her right hands on Impactor's chest in an attempt to prevent his rising. If she manages that, Botanica will flinch- though the flinch has nothing to do with Impactor's words or manner.

"Thank you Xaaron," she says when the Emirate orders Sentinel to bring his burden over, "I was just about to ask that of Sentinel, as well. Now, as the Emirate says, we are not in any position to waste any amount of work or resources. You will do your examining of your friend from this berth until you are cleared to do otherwise, and if you continue to protest I assure you I will not hesitate to add a sleeping agent to your fuel drip."

"You may sit up, but you may not stand. You may think yourself expendable because of your condition but I assure you, no one else does."

[Sentinel Prime]

Sentinel Prime doesn't really want to get closer to Impactor, who is probably one of the most terrifying things he's seen, right up there with his own Starscream and the mess in the asylum, but he tries not to think about that. He doesn't really want to have to touch Sandstorm again. However, he won't get anywhere if these people think he's a coward or recalcitrant to obey orders, so he bucks up and carries Sandstorm over a cart and then pushes it over to Impactor's side, being careful to not be too rough with the body but not dawdling.

Sentinel Prime says mildly, "Prime's a rank in my reality, and I had to work hard to earn it. I wasn't just handed a commission and a ship, like some people." He'd like to say a few other choice things, too, but they aren't fit for polite company, and he's in the doghouse enough as it is already.

He steals a brief peek at Impactor again, and he wonders what happened to the man, who looks dead as a blown diode for all that he's moving and talking, but he's sure that Impactor gets stared at and questioned often enough as it is and is probably sick of it (and sick of half a dozen different things, too, by the looks of it). Sentinel Prime is in no way sensitive, and he doesn't give a flying fanbelt about other people's feelings, but he is a manipulative sneak, and he can read people to an extent.