Jaxtrin hated the Magnaboss. He hated the sight of him. He hated his cold voice, and the smell of old fuel that surrounded him. He hated the way he was forced to treat him with respect. He hated calling him "Yes, sir," "No, sir."
No, sir, we don't know why the quarantine was imposed.
No, sir, I was not involved in that conflict.
No, sir, there are no survivors to my knowledge, sir.
Yes, sir, we have attempted to hail.
No, sir, there was no response.
NO, SIR, I'm not BITTER, NO SIR.
What would his old commander have thought of him—former Autobot, licking the boots of that Decepticon scoundrel, practically THANKING him for trapping him in a dying body on a remote outpost in the middle of ancient outer space nowhere.
I thought we WON this Primus-damned war.
It wasn't that the Magnaboss had been cruel.
No, sir. Not cruel, sir.
It was the principle of the thing. The Maximal leader was a Decepticon and a gentleman and the whole situation made Jaxtrin sick to his stomach.
To think he'd never really met him before today. The Magnaboss had been a general back when it mattered, back when such lofty goals were out of the young Autobot's league. Back when he was a scout for the army, Jax was regarded as the "bearer of bad news," the warning cry that told the Autobots that trouble was on the way. He wondered why he'd never seen THIS one coming. Efficiency (Maximals are efficient) had always been the Strategist's hallmark (so they said). Decepticons (all granted amnesty and shipped to who-knows-somewhere) remained unchanged (as if they were all just waiting for something). Maximal-Autobot-soldiers got good positions, heroic jobs, honorific family names (Jax never used his: Aximus/Maximus/represented the old unit he worked for; didn't mean a thing anymore but for signing paperwork), NO INFORMATION. And sometimes they disappeared for good. For the jackalhound, going Transmetal was a way of recapturing the old racecar roots. Didn't add time; didn't add life, but it had been something. Meeting Magnaboss had torn that something away and smeared it into the ground.
The Magnaboss had arrived that day, and he was in the office upstairs. He had his security cameras, the mimics of his one eye, everywhere. They were as he was: unblinking, unemotional. Jaxtrin sat in the corner of his bunk, legs tucked tight against the red canine head on his chest, staring into the security camera, staring deep into the eye of the Magnaboss. And he knew that Shockwave stared back.
—AF
The huge Predacon set a foot down in the marshy grasses, and mud filled in the gaps between his three toes. Before him, not far, a flock of the creatures he'd long since scanned and duplicated. An uncalatlogued species—not dinosaurs, but something kin, heavy bodies on leathery, thick-viened wings—the creatures had a grace belied by their bony heads and stubbed claws. The winged lizards bowed their heads into a boiling hotspring, and without even blinking, drinked the searing, stagnant water, and brought it down into their stomachs.
Moltor shifted modes, let out a feral, warbling cry, and flew over to join them. He plunged his head into the water, finding it steaming, but not unpleasent to taste. It had a thick mineral content, but its sheer heat made it unusually clean. Some of the lizards gave him a wide berth; he was certainly the largest among them, even if he did not seem like an unusual presence in his current form.
Suddenly a wretched cackle shot across the swamp, and the beasts all looked back, yellow eyes wide. The flight of dragons startled off into the air, spiraling up camoflagued against a sky the same deep red as their own scales. All had retreated, that is, but one, the largest, who looked back over his winged shoulder into the dark trees, his eyes narrowing.
"Get back here, varmint!!" a voice called, followed by crazed laughter. Seconds later, a panicked amphibian creature came racing out of the forest at speeds none of his kin had ever reached. Of course, none of them had ever been in his situation before. Mud sprayed up from beneath it's feet as it ran and then a sudden splash as it lept into the air. Just as the creature had gotten out of dodge, a much larger form plunged into the marshy bog, soaking himself in the brownish green goop.
"I'll have you yet!" the chasing life form called. "I know where you live!!"
But the amphibian didn't care. He was getting away and that was all that mattered. Whatever the cries of his intimidating foe meant were worthless from such a distance.
The chasing maniac just sat in the mud and laughed where it was. There were plenty of those creatures around and he could just get another later. But for now, he'd choose a new quarry. As he stood to his feet, mud dripped from everywhere on his body. A mechanical clawed hand lifted from his side and wiped more mud from a red visor on his face. The head on which the visor rested then turned back toward the forest, and opposite toward the marshy fields. A red reptilian creature caught his eye and a grin spead across his face. The robot, who was also reptilian, walked toward the new discovery. It would be an interesting specimen to catalogue to say the least.
"Heeere lizard lizard lizard..." he coaxed in what seemed to be a cheesy Spanish accent, though the shelled mechanoid had never even heard of a land called Spain.
The great lizard snorted. Without saying a word, he started a scan, the yellow slit of his lizard pupil widening to a circle, and slicing through in sections while he examined the other reptile. Yes, Predacon. It had been a few stellars now since he had seen another Predacon. He turned and faced the other, much shorter, and flipped a short red tail into the drinking pool. "Who in the Pit are you?"
"The creature speaks!" the Predacon chortled as he approached. "My my, and he's already asking questions." Surely a talking creature would make for an interesting time. Maybe even a little quality time in the lab afterward.
"They call me Terrorpin. And what's your name, Puff?"
"Puff?" The creature snorted a thick cloud of hot air. "My name is Moltor. What's your RANK and position?"
Terrorpin blinked, then coughed and waved his hand in front of his face. A Cybertron? Well, he wasn't being treated with hostility and any moron could tell his beast mode was Predacon in nature; so he assumed the same about this creature. But still, what the fellow "Predacon" asked for was basically null and void long ago. So long ago, in fact, that he couldn't remember any military ranking at all. Not that he ever really cared for it, of course. So he'd just answer in the best way he could.
"Rank?" he joked as he pretended to smell his underarm. "I doubt I smell that bad... But my position is scientific officer for the Predacon ship Darkwarp. What of you, my dear dino?"
"Terrorize," gave the other Predacon as response, and the wings stretched across his back folded and knotted, shifting into a new locale between the shoulderblades of red and bronze metal armor. One step forward, and the lizard Predacon spoke again. "Subcommander. Chief of combat." His toothy mouth twisted into a smile. "Take me to your ship...?"
"Walk this way." the turtle chuckled as he hobbled back from the direction he came in, as best as one can in the thick, warm swamp muck. What a subcommanding chief of combat was doing in the middle of nowhere arroused his curiousity slightly, but he assumed there were more of his comrades around.
"Where's the big cheese?" the crazy scientist quieried.
"You have to ask?" the subcommander responded. "Dead. Properly incinerated."
The leaves of the swamp trees parted way as the large Predacon pushed them aside to follow.
The smaller Predacon, though lacking in agility, made his way through the muck easier than his larger companion. This was, after all, his element. He was most at home here in the swamp. This saurian's commander had obviously not been. That's what Terrorpin hated about the Predacon hierarchy. Everything was based on might. Well, might couldn't help you adapt to a situation, make clear decisions, or stay alive in non-combat enviroments. He was in a race full of idiots.
"Almost there..." the turtle announced as they moved into slightly more shallow muck.
Almost out of nothing, the Predacon ship, angular and dark, emerged before them, a black metal beast sat in the warm mud. The ship was a newer design, but not a cloaker. I need a ship to get home... Moltor thought, as he looked at it. She might do.
At least two members of the Darkwarp crew had scanned insects from this very swamp; Moltor recognized the aspects of their organic beast modes well. None of the crew members were as tall as he, save one, perhaps, who seemed to be their leader. He had a faceplate with a scar. Moltor did not recognize the beast mode...and...there was something else odd about him, something that the subcommander could not place, for he had left Cybertron long before Transmetal II technology had been introduced. As Terrorpin advanced toward the ship, the subcommander held him back, with one clawed hand.
"What's the prob, Bob?" the turtlebot asked.
His new acquaintence didn't quite seem apprehensive, but more...inspective. Almost like he was going to shower Terrorpin with questions relentlessly to make sure he knew everything knowable about the ship he was to be on.
Terrorpin knew little about the ship, though. It was a means to an end. His key to travelling throughout space. And that was all. Other than that, it was a generic exploration ship. The commander, though, did seem to have a few interesting aspects to him. The technology that made Cybertronians into psychics was something still difficult to find, and something Terrorpin did not altogether understand, but it did interest him. The crocodile had attempted to cover his tracks the first time the new science officer had seen him pull his gun from his holster with only a wave of light. He'd dimmed the light very quickly when the club he'd wrested from his tail shone golden during battle, but Terrorpin had caught that, too. Skullkrusher was a Transmetal II, and guarded the stolen technology jealously, though whispers about it sometimes circulated among the organic crew of the ship.
But this was a fact that Moltor did not know, only something he knew he should be wary of. "That...ship IS ordinary. Isn't it? I've never seen one like it before."
"Well, it's an exploration ship. The Predacon government has only recently allowed many of us outside its...inner circle... the chance to seek opportunities aside from combat." Terrorpin replied, having referred to the government with much disdain. He had once been a great scientist within their ranks, having shown the highest potential for a protoform less than two stellar cycles old. But when his information-gathering prowess was noted, he had been removed as a liability. Many speculated that he had been released a bit too easily, though...
And now, he was talking to a Predacon that had never seen an exploration ship. Warriors are all alike... he thought smugly.
"Anyway," he said, gesturing to the ship, "I'll take you to my leader now." he snickered, after speaking in a monotonic voice and walking in a comically stiff manner toward the looming Darkwarp.
"No, no." Moltor grabbed him by the arm at this point. "Predacon EXPLORERS? 'Aside from combat'? You must be joking. Isn't that what Maximal FODDER is for?" He looked up, and almost started. They had been spotted.
Skullkrusher approached, splashing in the shallow swamp with each step. Now nearer, Moltor could see that the crack in his faceplate was a claw-scratch-shaped vent, and through it he could see the workings of a dark grey mouth as the commander spoke. "WHO is this?" he demanded.
"Predacon EXPLORER, sir—" Moltor spoke the innuciated word with a thick disdain— "I will offer my services as a WARRIOR to your crew." Moltor stood to his full height, and as he stepped clear from the tree that had done a poor job of concealing him, he revealed he was at least a head-and-a-half taller than the commander himself.
Skullkrusher naturally did not think this boded too well. "Terrorpin...where did you find THIS?"
The turtle sighed. He was now between two Predacons with serious glitches in their anger control circuits. One was a barbaric explorer—or a pirate and exile, as he would discover—who believed in adventure and taking whatever he could for himself only. The other was a textbook Predacon: hates peace, hates Maximals, hates peace lovers, and only thinks about military operations. It was a wonder that he had survived this long with an intact logic circuit... but, then again...
"THIS is a Predacon I found hangin' with some carbon-based homies in the zest springs a few clicks back that way," he motioned, "And his crew seems to have bit the dust a good, long time ago. Can we keep him? Huh? Huh?"
Skullkrusher eyed Terrorpin suspiciously. Then, he turned to Moltor. "Is this planet your habitat?"
"It has been."
"For how long?"
It actually took Moltor a moment to compute. "Twenty stellar."
"Then it can continue to be your habitat. You are not required."
The exile recognized the fear that Skullkrusher had just unwittingly demonstrated. It was the fear of finding someone stronger, someone more powerful than himself. The fear that he might lose his ship, his crew, the moment the former subcommander put the Predacon knife to his back. Still, as the commander made the mistake of turning away, Moltor hestated to challenge him immediately. Terrorpin seemed displeased with the entire ordeal. Moltor returned to beast mode, and called out, "I'll be returning to my other kind, then." As the commander left, Moltor instantly snapped his neck around, and looked to Terrorpin with one eye. "What about him keeps you in line? And what weaknesses?"
"Skullkrusher provides me with a lab, and that's the only reason I remain with him," he replied, glancing in the retreating croc's direction. "Other than that, he's a selfish, incompetent sonnuva Terrorcon who probably thinks his beast mode is a monkey. He thinks his large size and weapons will keep the crew in line.. Sadly enough, he's right. These cons seem to have little or no will of their own. One of these days, Alice.." he muttered, shaking a fist at his side.
"I like what you're suggesting," Moltor said. "Does he suspect you?"
"Me? The 'stupid little egghead not worth the plasma in his protoform'? I think not."
"Very well. Even if taking over this ship requires an army, which I doubt it will... I happen to have one at my disposal. Take the shields down. We'll do all the rest."
A broad grin crept slowly onto the turtle's face. He liked where this was going. He didn't care about holes in what he knew about Moltor. This was going to be good. After all, he was in charge of the majority of the Darkwarp's weapons and vital machinery as well as sciences. He threw his right arm up and stiffened in a mock salute. "Aye aye, Cap'n!" he said in a piratey voice. "Arrrr!!"
The reptilian eyes narrowed. "Don't goof around. I'll be back in two megacycles." The Predacon took off into the air, and, as he vanished into the distance of the red sky, took a breath, sending a white particle beam that CRACKED like lightning into a faraway tree.
When the pirate and scientist left the explorers behind on the swampy world, it was the start of a very unusual temporary friendship.
—AF, DW
As the ship streamed back into space, on course for its destination at Maximal Cerebros Station, Viracide rushed onto the bridge. He tried to work his way around Krunch, but it took him a few tries. He appoached the commander, stubbing his foot on the edge of his chair. No time to bother complaining. Somewhat breathless, he blurted out, "Commander, uh, Silverquick, Predacon Ship! Following us. Starscream...need Digit!"
"Take a cycle and calm down," Silverquick said. "You're liable to jumble your datatracks." Silverquick waited for Viracide to catch his breath, then said, "So, what's got you so agitated?"
Viracide stopped for a moment, data tracks racing through his mind. He began to speak so Silverquick could understand him. "Kitfox knows that there is a cloaked Predacon ship on our tail! We need to get that device out of his throat, so he could tell us more or something. Digit is our best bet. When does she go online?"
Krunch listened intently to Viracide's tirade. Their "passenger" was becoming more of a nuisance every nanoclick. The sergeant saved his design program for his Quasar/Plasma Cannon and spoke up.
"If the little lady can't do it, I'd be more than glad to remove that device from our guest! I did it before, but I guess it didn't take, so I'm sure I can make it more permanent!" offered Krunch, with a grin.
Suddenly, there was an incoming message on the main screen. It was addressed for Jynx, and had one attached file.
Krunch looked down and noticed the message on the screen for Jynx. Without a thought, Krunch tried to open and read the message.
There was a vid file attached, a female Predacon, and definitely one of the best looking femmebots he'd seen, Maximal or Predacon. "Sorry bout that... But here's those Starcharts you were asking about...."
"Hey big guy..." Jynx suddenly said. He had walked onto the bridge pretty unnoticed, as everybody seemed to be a bit preoccupied with the 'afterglow' of their space port visit. When he entered, he noticed an incoming file for him, and just as he was planning to open it, he saw the big bot had already done that for him. This agitated him a bit. "Is it standard procedure for ya to open other people's files?"
Krunch looked at the femmebot on the vid-screen and noticed the Predacon emblem on her. Looking back up at Jynx, the sergeant responded loud enough for everyone to hear on the bridge.
"What's the problem, skid-plate? We're all on the same side here, aren't we? Unless you don't want anyone to know that you're communicating with the Preds!!" countered Krunch.
"Yeah well, how did ya know it was a Pred, and not one of my 'Lady Friends', Big guy?" But enough about this...
Jynx stepped up, and played back the message. "Yeah right, sorry you will be, slaggin' Pred," he mumbled to himself. Now, to do something about that searing pain in my head... he thought, as he headed over to an R-chamber.
Viracide approached Krunch, "It's no problem. I asked him to get those star charts. Viracide copied the star charts to a pad and looked them over. "They might be useful." Viracide looked through them, though he had know idea where to start. "You know if Digit does get on-line soon, Krunch may have to remove the device. In the meantime..." Viracide looked at his commander, "Silverquick, we have to talk about King Four."
Krunch shook his head and mumbled something about skid-plates and exhaust pipes. He went back to working on his weapon design, counting the clicks until he can get off his shift and actually get the project started.
—BB, CB, AF, JA
Terrorpin sighed as he entered the cargo bay to the Whisper. Not a single place on the massive ship had been to his liking for a hiding place. Either too cramped, too conspicuous, or too clean for his tastes. Unfortunately, this was no exception. The entire ship was spotless and divoid of any personal touches, messiness, or character. This irritated Terrorpin to no end. He loved the beauty of random piles of junk, wear & tear, and even pointless little touches that said a place belong to someone other than the owner of one too many maintenence droids. Those wretched pieces of junk were only good for blowing up anyway. He snickered as he remembered his days in Cybertronian labs... Whenever he got bored and had no hapless specimens to experiment on, he'd go out and plant charges on maintence droids and watch them explode. He even programmed a few with voice chips so he could hear them scream in terror as they exploded. Ah, those were the days...
He walked over behind a random crate and sat down with a grunt. He'd most likely be here a while and wanted to enjoy himself. Terrorpin would settle for a nice drink instead. He snickered as he opened his right shoulder armor plate. Here was where he had kept a relic he was sure very few Cybertrons had: a bottle of pre-Great War energon. He had gotten it from the interior of a fallen Decepticon he had found on one of the worlds he had explored. The Con's design was what led him to believe he was pre-war, it was not only rusty, but very scrawny and simplistic, even to the point of lacking a face. He was most likely a cowardly deserter who was stalked by Quintessons and exterminated. As he poured the bottle's contents into a suitable container, he transformed to Beast Mode and grinned. He would relish the fine energon, especially considering that terror at death always left a sweet, tangy flavor to energon that could only grow richer over the millenia.
As Terrorpin browsed the hold, he caught sight of an R-bath. It was occupied, and definitely activated. "What have we here?" the scientist wondered aloud as he sipped the last of his energon and smirked. "Terrorpin: Terrorize!" And with a quick shifting of servos and gears, his body stood erect and in a robot mode that looked little better than his monsterous beast mode. He walked toward the R-Bath, wading his way through the maze of cargo. It appeared that the ship wasn't as empty as he first thought. He knew it would be a risk to associate with any of the crew members of a ship he should most certainly not be on in the first place, but this could also be a chance at gathering information on where they were going or if anyone he knew was on board, especially.. him. Yes, it was worth it. And if his recovering "friend" squealed on him... well, he'd just have a chance at testing out some new enzymes and tools for his research. And yet again, he snickered.
The bath seemed to contain a fellow Predacon, not terribly large, and Transmetal. At rest, the figure had silver joints and green scales. Though still in the solid sleep of R-bath recovery, the figure twitched occasionally, as if he was completing a very difficult multilayered file transfer somewhere within his dreams.
Terrorpin frowned inwardly. Not in empathy, but from dissappointment. This bot's bad dream meant that he would have to wait until the recovering Predacon was awake. He himself might've been crazy, but he wasn't stupid. Plugging into a bot's data tracks who was unstable at the moment could put him in a very compromising situation. He grumbled to himself as he climbed back down. He'd just have to wait the Transmetal reptilian out..
Where am I? what is this? This place does not seem like Cybertron at all..... it looks almost..... organic! What am I doing here? Fleshlike creatures talking to me in a weird tongue... That shadow, what is that? It is large. Pre-downsize large. It has wings. a catlike creature is sitting on his shoulder, purring. It is mocking me, laughing at me. No! Stop that! I throw a stone but it disintegrates. I try to scream but my vocals refuse. The cat like creature is growing larger and larger. I try to run but it is faster than me. It eats me. I end up in it's stomach. I am not alone there, there is a face right next to me, but it is to dark to see... But I know who it is... it is Starscream.
Charmacon awakes froms his dream, and remembers he is inside an R-Bath. He slowly opens his eyes and his optics focus back in. He felt like he was being watched, but that was a normal reaction after such a nightmare. However, there actually was someone observing him. A turtle-like Predacon was sitting next to his R-Bath.
"S-s-s-s-s.... What do you want from me?" Charmacon said, and the Predacon jumped at the unexpected question of the Chameleon.
After his fuel pump slowed it's pulsating, Terrorpin gazed down at the healing Predacon. He appeared groggy and disoriented, and didn't seem aware that there was a stowaway on his ship. But such was the affects of an R-bath. Although now, he was in a compromising situation. How would he explain his prescence on board? This Predacon would want answers too. A smirk formed beneath his faceplate as a plan formulated. It was time to pay Moltor back for sending that Maximal to his lab.
"I was sent here by Commander Moltor to do some maintence on your ship. I was checking the cargo hold for damage and I noticed your chamber. What happened to you? Perhaps touching a femme in a bad spot?" he snickered.
"Maintenance?? MAINTENANCE!!!!!!!" Charmacon leaped towards Terrorpin and grabbed him by the shoulders. He put his head next to Terrorpin's ears. "Ahhh... yes-s-s... maintenance..." he whispered. "When s-s-something is-s-s broken, you fix it, right? Tell me, what is-s-s broken about you? We are all broken right? Maybe you need to be fixed......"
The glazed look in Charmacon's eyes subdued. He let go of Terrorpin and backed off of him. He looked at the Predacon standing next to him, and his thoughts focused a bit. He didn't look like Starscream at all. He didn't know what Starscream looked like, but he was sure it wasn't like this.
"Ah... I mean, carry on, My fellow Predacon, you are doing an excellent job! If you wouldn't mind, could you as-s-ses-s-s the efficiency of the R-Baths-s-s? You may report to me on the Bridge later."
Terrorpin was trying his best to fight off a fit of laughter. This was all too comical for him. Insane Predacons were fun, and lots of it. Especially after bad dreams. He barely kept it down to a wheezing snicker and stood perfectly still.
"I'll do that.. But first, my curiousity has been aroused by the circumstances under which this ship entered Kull Tan," Terrorpin bluffed. "Could you perhaps..enlighten me somewhat?" It would save me from forcing the information from you or your ship's main computer, preferrably the former in a painful manner... he mentally added.
"That needn't concern you. That information is-s-s clas-s-s-sified and not meant to be s-s-shared with a lowly engineer like yours-s-self. I s-s-sugges-s-st you get on your work while I file my report to my s-s-superior."
Charmacon eyed the turtle bot. He knew he was lying. The ship was in excellent shape when it arrived here, and needn't be checked up. Besides, they had plenty of engineers on board themselves. And why send a single engineer to check up on an entire ship. Especially such a shabby engineer...
Charmacon walked towards the door, never taking his eye off Terrorpin, who did the same thing. Next to the door, he accessed a panel, and managed to trap Terrorpin in a containment field.
"Now," he said, "Would you mind telling me why I, a-s-s-s chief engineer and s-s-second in command was-s-s never informed of your pending arrival? In other words-s-s, what are you doing on board our ves-s-s-sel?"
The Transmetal II's fuel pump skipped a beat as the containment field surrounded him, but this was quickly overcome by his anger at himself for allowing the reptile to see through him. He should've went straight to a computer terminal and hacked it instead of trying to align himself with a crew member, much less the freaking second-in-command. Now, he was in a Plutarkian pickle of the worst kind. If anyone he knew was on board, he was done for. And even if these were complete strangers, they were Predacons nonetheless. He would be dealt with.
Still keeping the visible panic far from being shown, Terrorpin chuckled to himself. "Your powers of deduction are weak, Mr. S-s-s-s-second in command," he mocked. "Or does your R-bath have a com interface in it to alert you of such things? My superior knew that this ship was disgustingly neat from talking with your own superior. And just between me and you, my commander isn't quite fond of me. So what does any Cybertron with his logic circuits intact and a chunk of shrapnel in his skid plate do? He removes the shrapnel and keep it away from him." Terrorpin crossed his arms. "In other words-s-s, s-s-sir, this was busy work. Believe me, such nauseatingly clean ships aren't my type of enviroment. Hence why I was sent to inspect this one. Now could we please perhaps release me and let me off this ship instead of playing Junior Detective Spy Guy?"
"Mocking your capturer is not exactly the s-s-smartes-s-st procedure, Mr. Turtle." Charmacon said with an ice cold tone in his voice. "But of cours-s-se I am willing to let you go. IF your s-s-story checks-s-s out, that is-s-s."
Charmacon activated a comm panel. "This-s-s is-s-s Charmacon to the bridge. I have a wandering engineer here who claims-s-s to be s-s-sent by Boss Moltor, yet I was-s-sn't informed of his-s-s pres-s-sence. Could you give me a lowdown?"
—DW, AF, MdJ
A low hissing sound was the only disturbance in the perfectly still Med-bay. The dim lights of the room played on the reflective surface of the R-chamber's door as it opened. Steam escaped.
A pair of eyes slowly opened. Normally, a bright enthusiasm shone in these eyes, but now, they seemed both sad and grim. The robot in the repair unit waited for a few moments, then climbed out of the prison-like compartment.
Digit inspected her surroundings. All was exactly as before—the instruments, the computer systems, the datascreens... the slender femmebot realized Med-bay would always be the same. She was trapped here. Either as medic or recovering from the slightest of injuries.
Certainly, with no other Maximal around better suited for the job, Digit was Pilot of the Renegade as well. A task she normally enjoyed, but so far, this mission was straight forward. No dynamics whatsoever. She smiled, cynically and full of self relativism. As if she, the engineer girl, would be up to furious flying maneuvers. Ha!
The R-unit's door had closed again, and, looking back, Digit faced her own reflection. Two sets of eyes met.
The femmebot dared to inspect her newly repaired body. It was proportioned in an attractive way, but until then, Digit had never taken the time to look at it. She looked up again, and stared into the depths of her own optics.
Suddenly, a sound emerged from the corridor, and within moments, a small flying droid hovered energetically in front of her.
"VROOT TIDI TOOT! BREEP!"
To Orb's great surprise, Digit didn't respond. She just looked at him. Then, Digit's coldness melted away, at least some of it.
"It is good to see you too, little friend," the femmebot whispered. "I am sorry for not being too happy at the moment. Maybe my normal mood will return as soon as we have left this dreaded Predacon post."
She padded Orb on the side, and even smiled, then the two of them set off for the bridge.
—DN
As Nightfall finished her star-chart transmission, another message flashed onscreen addressed to her. Text, and a document... from High Command?
She looked around, but it seemed she was still alone in her little corner of the base. She'd found a place away from prying eyes to do her work, fortunately. She wondered what the new orders were, since she'd only just reported in. Shrugging, she opened the message.
The message was sent as an audio recording: a one-way transmission. Nightfall had never heard the voice in person before... it was calm, and flat, and sounded digitalized, but she knew that it was not scrambled... she HAD heard him before... on television, in Secret Police datafiles, in Predacon propaganda recordings... And now Darkwave was speaking to her...
As was his way, he got right to the point.
"Agent. Attached are the specifications for Starscream's current body." The specifications of a small Maximal with a fox beast mode unfolded on her screen as she watched, and pointers flashed in time with the verbal message, zooming in on the most important parts of the wire frame. "An anti-vocalization unit installed by Shockwave is within his throat. It may be already removed when you encounter him. Doing so yourself would be unwise." Another pointer, another zoom. "Starscream's spark cavity is here, in the center of the chest, protected by three layers of armoring. Though immortal his spark may be pierced by an energon weapon. We have also provided specifications for a blade capable of doing the needed amount of damage." A new diagram appeared onscreen, a small knife with a large hilt. "Use your ship's computer to aid in its construction. Stab straight, and the force field generated in the weapon's hilt will protect your spark from the brunt of the resultant explosion. It will only be necessary to terminate Starscream if he manages to reach the planet surface. If he does, terminate without delay and without prejudice. We will not tolerate his interferance."
As soon as it had begun, the message ended.
Nightfall was still a bit shaken; it wasn't every day one was addressed personally by Darkwave... She shook her head, blinking for a moment then saving the file, closing up her laptop and hurrying back to the ship.
—AF, CB
Velocity had also just come on the bridge, and just in time to hear Krunch say something about "communicating with Preds." His ears lowered, his green eyes widened and he froze in his tracks.
"How did you—" he blurted out fearfully, before realizing that Jynx was the one being reprimanded. He cackled nervously and eyed the lynxbot as he turned to the computer screen. Velocity blinked, figuring he should ask Jynx about what the whole Pred thing was about.
Seeing his friend go off to the CR Chamber, the Transmetal quickly scooted over to Jynx's station, while giving Krunch wide berth. With Jynx gone, it was up to him to man the sensor console. Though his job was difficult due to his still quaking hands. The dogbot was determined to wait out the shakes and only take his High-O when the cravings got intense. He needed to make three flasks last as long as they could.
Calling up reports on the internal sensors (after a few tries) Velocity noted that Digit's time in the R-Chamber was up, and she was just exiting the Chamber.
"She's back!" he noted, with a grin.
Viracide, noticing that Digit was out, left Silverquick and rushed over to be the first to talk to her. "Digit! Thank goodness! Look, first off, sorry about that situation that got you in there. That was one big hit you took back there. And second of all, Kitfox needs surgery, soon. Can you take out that speech imparment device?"
"King Four? What do you..." Silverquick's voice trailed off as he realized he was talking to the back of Viracide's head. Inwardly, he chuckled. Viracide is rather smitten with Digit, he thought. Ah, to be young and in love...
"Sure. No problem. I am on it. I'll fix it," she sighed, and walked passed Viracide. "Nice to see you too. I assume he is in the holding cell? I think I'd be more confortable if Snarler and Krunch would bring him to Med-bay though."
As Digit walked back the way she had come from, Orb looked very angry at Viracide. Then Digit turned around.
"It's probably none of my business, subcommander, but why am I ordered to take out that device again? And Silverquick is okay with this as well?"
"Again you mean you took it out before? But that's probably none of my business. As for Silverquick, I mentioned it to him. He didn't say NOT to do it. And anyway I believe...uhh... He has some info that may be vital to this mission."
As in "Predacon ship following us..." he thought.
Digit closed her optics for a cycle. No, she said to herself, I am not going to allow you to act like this! Stop feeling sorry for yourself!
"Viracide," she added in a soft voice, "do you know if Jynx is around somewhere?"
Viracide thought Digit seemed obviously distracted by something. "Sure, he got in a little run-in with some Predacons when he went looking for starcharts. He's fine now. He's on the bridge I think."
Velocity was noticeably curious about the whole goings-on. It was harder and harder for him to concentrate on scanner readings due to the activity on the bridge and the clammy chills in his gut which cried out for High-O. The green-lettered data readings and energy graphs were more frustrating now than they had been before. He didn't want to be the last one to know about everything. Activating his audio-mechanism (which he was beginning to like quite a bit!) he managed to catch snippets of the conversation as they walked toward the hallway, mostly from Viracide's end as he had a louder voice than Digit's.
However, at the part about Jynx, Velocity felt it his duty to relay a message. Hopping out of his chair, he rushed over to Digit and Viracide.
"Jynx's in a CR Chamber, Digit!" the gold and silver bot said dutifully. "And, hi! Lookin' good," he added, with a shaky-handed wave.
"Don't you know it's impolite to gossip about someone behind their backs," Jynx suddenly said from behind them, "especially if HE is behind YOUR backs? It's not like I was snooping around this time..."
Velocity blinked, thinking that perhaps he should've read the scanner readings a bit more carefully. Still, he shrugged and waved. "See yah later, pal!"
He grinned, and turned towards Digit. "Nice to see you up and runnin' again. Now, if you won't mind, I'm gonna take one of those R-dips myself. See you s-s-s-s-s..."
Jynx startled, paused for a bit, and refound himself. "See you soon..." he finished the sentence.
Digit stared disappointedly at Jynx when he walked away, but then Velocity continued. "If you want me to get Snarler or Krunch to help you out with anything, just say the word."
Krunch just shook his head as he sat at his console. He was beginning to get tired of bots talking about him as if he wasn't there. He was beginning to get tired of bots thinking that he was just a mindless slagging machine. No one ever spoke to him directly, everyone avoided him like The Rust Virus, and it seemed that the only thing he was good for was grunt work. As the rage built within him, the large Maximal gripped the edge of his console and slowly crushed it, leaving a huge dent in the still functional console.
"If anyone cares, I'll be in Sickbay with our guest!" he said as he rose and left the bridge, heading for the brig.
Digit and Velocity exchanged glances at Krunch's irritated message. "Hrm. I guess everyone will be in Med-bay then. Care to join us, Velocity?" She started walking down the corridor. "What have you been up to while I was resting in the R-unit?"
"Sure!" Velocity said, happy to be where the action was, though the thought that he'd see Krunch again did dampen his enthusiasm somewhat. Especially if Krunch was in a mood. His happiness was further dampened at Digit's question.
"Wha—oh, me?" he said, with an attempted shrug which turned into a nervous twitching of his shoulder.
"Just checking out the locals. ..Eh, wares. The local wares. Goods and services—and goods. Not services." He took a breath to clear his head. "I didn't do anythin' interesting."
"Did you have a fun time..in the R...bath?" he asked, wanting to get attention off of himself but then realizing that question wasn't the best way to do it.
Digit gazed cynically at the small dog-bot, then looked straight ahead again. "Not quite," she admitted. Then she sighed again... "Don't you ever have the feeling people are taking you for granted? That they appreciate your skills more than your character?"
Velocity rubbed the back of his head nervously. He subconciously wanted people pay more attention to his skills than his character, which, in Velocity's realm of experience, wasn't the best kind out there. But, how to say that was beyond him. "I guess, well, this is a big important mission and all..." he began.
Staring at the corridor ahead, walking in a steady pace, Digit didn't really seem to listen to Velocity's answer. Part of her mind was already preparing for the operation. Scalpels, Bioscanners, portable R-unit, synthetic tissues... Digit saw herself moving to the surgery table, scalpel in hand, closing in on her patient, looming over, only to see that her patient was... herself!
"Whaaa!" Digit screamed as she snapped out of her vision, and slumped to the wall for support.
"Digit!" Velocity yelped, taking a step forward and holding a shivering hand out to her if she needed it. Tail tucked between his legs and weight shifting nervously, he wondered if he should call anybody to the scene. "You all right? Did the R-Chamber do something to you?" He didn't know much about those things, having relied on medics to patch him up all his life.
"Mebbe...you need to take a little break, eh? Get some rest. I mean, I'm sure when Viracide says what you gotta do is 'vital to the mission,' he probably doesn't mean right now kinda vital..."
The femme-bot looked at Velocity, and spoke softly, "No... I'll... I'll be alright. Sorry about that. I feel very stupid. I... We should better be on our way. They need us there."
Digit waited before moving on however, and her eyes betrayed she was waiting for a confirmation from the dog-bot.
Velocity put his hand back to his side and looked back in incomprehension. He even cocked his head in a canine fashion. To prevent the two from staring at each other forever, the Transmetal spoke.
"Eh..so, let's go," he said, motioning to the rest of the hallway, which he was soon walking down at a slower pace so Digit could catch up. If she felt like it.
—LA, DN, BB, JA
Paradox entered the bridge quite distressed. He poundened the bulkhead with his fist. But he did nothing but break his hand. He waved his hand in pain. He could even do that right. Maybe if he wanted to get anywhere he better not do anything but his job. But that left no room for anything else. He would never be decorated for that. Maybe if he only had more power. But that was a long shot.
A signal came onto to the bridge. It was Mr. Second in Command. Paradox had mixed feeling about the lizard. On one hand they did know each other. On the other hand Charmacon didn't care. Now only if he was more like that crab guy. He waited awile, hoping someone else would take the responsiblity of responding. But the longer he would wait, the more he might get slagged. Paradox neared the comm concel, "This is is is Paradox, I wasn't informed of his presence either. YOU should contact Stromclaw."
Paradox thought about that statment for a moment, "But if's he's busy and he wants to slag someone, it will be me... You think of something!"
Nightfall returned, running a hand along Paradox's shoulder as she passed by. "What's up?"
"Not all decis-s-sions-s-s have to be run by S-s-stormclaw." Charmacon replied over the radio, "Jus-s-st tell me if his-s-s arrival was-s-s s-s-scheduled and I will act accordingly."
Paradox barely heard a word Charmacon said. He stood there, frozen. Nightfall was too much for his circuits to handle. He then fell to the floor. But just as quickly as he fell he scrambled back. His mouth was till in a state of shock though.
"He He, we have a little stowaway. Noone you'd be interested in." Paradox turned up the corner of his mouth. He then noticed Charmacon signed off, Paradox closed the channel and his jaw.
Nightfall smiled. "Thanks. I've got to use the computer. I found a rather nice design for a weapon that might come in handy... And I certainly don't want to disturb the bosses if they're busy..." No one had told her to keep it secret, and such activity would be obvious; might as well be open about it. "Want to lend a hand?"
Paradox was eager to do something and do it with Nightfall. "Ya Ya Ya sure" Paradox stepped away from the computer to let Nightfall at it. "What what what do I do?"
She showed him the design she had for an energon blade. "I just need to get the computer to help with the manufacturing, really. An extra set of eyes would be great. And don't worry, I don't want to test it on you."
Paradox smiled at the joke and looked at the design. "Oh, OK OK OK, energon blade. You know those things can cut through anything. Planning on bumping someone off soon?" Paradox laughed at himself. "None of my beeswax, I know. There's probably a hundred secrets for everyone here. Except me of course. You wouldn't believe that I still have know idea what this mission is about?"
Nightfall smiled. Maybe a little lie mixed with truth... "Well, The Subcommander and I got to one of the Maxie crew. We found out one of the bots on their ship is actually an old Decepticon, Starscream. I did some nosing around, he was in the Great War, big time boss under Megs... Also a treacherous bastard. He's the one who found and 'helped' us with the sensors on their ship, but I don't think I trust him, since their whole crew seems to know who he is. He's also apparently 'immortal'. I don't buy it, but I want to be ready if we run into him..."
Paradox smiled and dreamed about the old days he never got to experence. "Starscream was one of the best pilots ever!" Paradox drifted out of dreamworld, "But not exactly one of the most looked up to people in Cybertron history. Oh well, it's good to be prepared. He may try and slag us. Good idea!"
Nightfall smiled, stroking his shoulder. " Exactly... We can make you one too if you want, just be careful with it..." She sat down at the computer, inputting the data for the blade. "And don't just keep it around, having energon like that close tends to cause minor interference with your own systems. Not dangerous, just could be a nuisance..."
Paradox's teeth strated chattering as chills went up and down his body. "Nahhhh, I I I don't like to use dangerous weapons like that. Chances are that I would fall on it or something... Wait! You can make it retractable, and make the handle out of lead." Paradox typed in the console making a slightly different design. "Ya when it's retracted it won't cause interference, and won't be detectable." Paradox smiled at himself.
"Hmmm... Very useful..." the femmebot said, leaning over his shoulder. "It would still work the same way, though?"
Pardox stared at the schamatics a little longer, "It should, a knife is is is a knife." Paradox was glad that he had contibuted something to this effort. "The computer can construct the blade and the handle. I think. You want me to give the command."
Nightfall smiled. "Let's light it up...." she could test it out, and make a normal one if this wouldn't work... "Good idea, Paradox. Really."
Paradox was one happy boy, He turned on the computer andbooted up it's main command processer. He talked to Nightfall as he waited for it to be ready "I'm not an expert on computers or anything, but it actually very very very easy." Paradox took a breath to get him self ready and made the command, "Computer, fasion for me a knife, made of energon, very sharp. Make it retractable, with lead handle. Blade length...." Paradox looked over at Nightfall signaling for her to give him the length.
She looked over the specs. "Point 4 meters." She smiled. "Well, I'm sure the computer could do it, I'm just not as good with the weapon end..."
—BB, CB
Terrorpin hated admitting a screw up. This was mainly because he tried hard with his plots and schemes. But this time, he had played a wrong card against an opponent who held more than he had estimated. He was defeated, uncovered, imprisoned, and at the mercy of a freaking lizard. Excellent. This was the one type of irony he wouldn't laugh at. The kind that could get him killed. This bot would most likely not be reasoned with, and any commander who kept such a rigid second would definately be more harsh. So now, he'd play the only card he had left.
"All right... Knock it off.... I'll admit it. I'm not with Maintenence. But just for the record, I am a subbordinate of Moltor's. He was not informed of my excursion. Do with me what you will.."
"A wis-s-se decis-s-sion. You would not have wanted to deal with my s-s-superior. He is-s-s even more ruthles-s-s-s than I am."
Charmacon once again opened a commlink with the bridge. "I have the s-s-situation under control, Paradox. Charmacon out."
He turned towards Terrorpin, and eyed the Turtlebot. "What to do.... with you?" A long pause. "What oh what oh what...
"I will do you a favour. I will tell you what I know about this-s-s mis-s-s-sion..... You are going to be dis-s-s-sapointed though, becaus-s-se I know nothing! We all know nothing! I 'interrogated' one of the Maxies-s-s, and he s-s-seems-s-s convinced they are on a s-s-suicide mis-s-s-sion! Doesn't that s-s-strike you as-s-s s-s-sus-s-spect? We are on a mis-s-s-sion to follow thos-s-se Maxies-s-s, and we don't know why we mus-s-st follow them and they don't know where they are going! But it gets-s-s better, oh yes-s-s! It s-s-seems-s-s their crew cons-s-sis-s-sts-s-s of criminals-s-s, mishaps-s-s and failures-s-s, yet they are accompanied by none other than Decepticon Air commander S-s-s-s-s-s..." Charmacon took a deep breath, before continuing, and exhaling again.
"S-s-stars-s-scream. Plus-s-s we were welcomed on our briefing by Laserbeak. Now, my curious-s-sity is-s-s certainly arous-s-sed."
Charmacon paused, to give Terrorpin a moment to let this information sink in.
"I think S-s-stars-s-scream is-s-s key. I mus-s-st talk to him. And you will as-s-s-sis-s-st me, or I will turn you over to Moltor."
And now he was a slave. This idea was beginning to seem very bad at the moment. But then, the name Starscream was mentioned. This was a name that was definately familiar to Terrorpin. As a scientist on Cybertron, he had been involved in one or two experiments recreating the Decepticon's indestructable spark. After doing a little digging, he found that this Starscream had been a traitorous subordinate to the original Megatron of the Great War. Of course he read up on his exploits further, but none of it involved him becoming a Maximal. His interest was as captured as much as he was.
The threat of being turned over to Moltor wasn't a big one. The reptilian was quite used to Terrorpin's antics and would let him off with little more than a warning. But he'd let this irony slip past him just this once in favor of this new adventure. This was better, much better actually, than sitting around his lab on Kull Tan. But still, one problem remained. "How would this be accomplished, per se?"
"That, is-s-s a problem that remains-s-s to be s-s-solved. But ingenuity is-s-s my greates-s-st virtue. We s-s-shall s-s-succeed." Charmacon released Terrorpin from the containment field. "Oh, and one more thing. S-s-stormclaw needn't know our plans-s-s. I will make up a s-s-story as-s-s to your coming along."
Charmacon didn't know why he allowed this turtle to become part of an act of insubordinance, or why he thought up this plan in the first place. He just knew he had to see Starscream, and this Predacon was going to help him.
"Wonderful." Terrorpin said as he stretched and moved around again.
"When're we going to meet the new neighbors, anyway?" he asked, approaching his new "boss." He'd be darned if slavery kept his humor dampened.
"Oh, s-s-soon enough. We are s-s-scheduled to report on the bridge and meet Lord S-s-stormclaw in a few moments-s-s... If you'll follow me."
—MdJ, DW
Viracide started to follow Digit. But then he noticed he still had to still talk with Silverquick, and he was currently alone with him on the bridge. Viracide approached him. "Silverquick, are you aware that there is a cloaked Predacon ship hovering around us? Probably ready to destroy us!" Viracide grew more and more panicked as he spoke. "And there's this world King Four that Starscream, uhhh... I mean Kitfox thinks is important. And Magnaboss, he's going to be on the next planet! And, and..." Viracide took a breath and waited for his commander to say something.
"Kitfox is Starscream?" mused Silverquick. "That explains quite a bit, but also raises more questions." He leaned back in his chair. "And a Predacon ship following us? Not much of a surprise, but how did they remain undetected? Unless their cloak technology has improved. I've heard rumors of a prototype dynaphasic system..."
Viracide scrached his head. "Huh?" Viracide switched to another subject. "He mentioned a world called King Four. I think it's important. He wanted to know where it was; that's why I had Jynx get those starcharts. I wouldn't give them to him without your permission, though..."
"I think we'll compare those charts to the information, if any, we receive at our briefing on Cerebros Station. King Four is an odd name for a planet, though. A code name, maybe..." Silverquick's voice trailed off as he realized it was also a chess reference.
King Four may be more than a planet," he said excitedly. "We need to see if we can get Kitfox to talk."
Viracide eyes widened, as it did sound like something from a chess game. Usually Viracide liked to just play with the chess men. The king was that big guy. "We'll uhh talk with him once Digit gets that device out. But what about that Predacon ship? Should we do anything?"
"Make sure the sensors are functioning nominally," said Silverquick, "especially the anti-cloak subsystems. See if you can't get the sublight engines to run a tachyon purge, oh, every cycle or so. If the Preds have a new cloak that our systems can't penetrate, maybe their running through a tachyon cloud will make them more detectable.
"If we're lucky, it'll even 'tag' their ship and make it much easier to track." Silverquick paused for a moment, then:
"You ordered Digit to remove Kitfox's vocal inhibitor? Make sure Krunch or Snarler is in sickbay to see that he's properly restrained. I want him tied down tighter than Scanner's datatracks until we get to the Station."
"No problem, Krunch if already on his way.. I'll get to work on this problem maybe even. Wait a second, Starscream found out somehow. I guess that will be the first thing I ask him." Viracide replyed. "But my guess is that the operation may take a while. I'll see if I can fiddle with those sensors."
Or I could get Goldstreak to do it... he thought.
"Very well," replied Silverquick. "Keep me informed of your progress."
—BB, LB
Velocity and Digit reached Med-bay a few minutes later. All was silent, like before, only now one of the R-chambers was humming softly. Digit accessed a computer panel near the door, and immediately, additional lights came on. She walked routinely towards the surgery table, and began preparing for the operation.
"Please feel free to take a seat somewhere, Velocity," Digit offered. "Krunch and the others will be here momentarily."
Suddenly, a large scanner, suspended from the ceiling by a long mutli-jointed mechanical arm, came to life and zoomed across the room, towards the table. On one of the walls, a monitor displayed everything that the scanner registered in a mix between x-ray and wire frame. As it had almost reached it's place above the table, it currently scanned Velocity, and a detailed cross-section of the dog-bot, complete with vital systems and descriptions, now flashed on the huge monitor.
Krunch reached the brig and deactivated the force field on the cell containing Kitfox. In a calm tone, Krunch spoke to its occupant.
"Please give me a reason to slag you!" challenged the huge Maximal. Without another word, he grabbed the smaller bot and roughly escorted him to the Med-bay.
Kitfox did not at ALL feel that this was dignified enough to suit an officer of his stature. Even as a Maximal, he clearly outranked this buffoon. ...Would Krunch be doing the operation? Starscream did not have much confidence in his bedside manner. Then again, it'd be better than the GIRL...
Velocity would've taken a seat, but the zooming med scanner had distracted him. When reports about his own body flashed on a giant monitor, he was even more distracted. Nothing the Blood Fires had had ever been this high-tech!
A worrying phrase that flashed the most vigorously was "withdrawal of high-energy input causing temporary nervous-circutry malfunctions" with a detailed list of other circuts affected, possible causes and suggested diagnostics Velocity was too upset to read fully.
"That's confidential!" he snapped at the scanner as he strode over to it, putting up his fists as if to duke it out with the machine.
"Hmmm? What is?" Digit asked, turning around to look at her companion.
"That!" said Velocity, pointing an accusing finger at his wire-frame form onscreen.
"Just..find a way to turn it off, okay?" grumbled the gold and silver dog, glaring at both the screen and the scanner with an equal amount of animosity. Like he needed to know how his 'fine motor skills were impaired', or 'percentage of his energy reserves' were being 'depleted' anyway.
At that point, Kitfox was "escorted" into the medbay. He looked up at Krunch, then over to Digit, giving her a glare that threatened to cut through her.
Digit shivered, and stood as if paralyzed. She had no choice but to look at Kitfox, and yet, she was freightened by his gaze. More over, she couldn't help notice he was very handsome as well. Digit felt she was becoming dizzy, and somehow managed to find some support on the surgery table. Quickly, she turned around as if to continue preparations. In reality, all she wanted was be safe from his piercing eyes...
Velocity growled at the scene, then turned his attention to Kitfox and Digit to note her reaction. It made him growl even louder at the Fox, though his growl had a fear-created higher-pitch to it.
"H...Hey, man, she's doin' you a favour, so...don' look at her like that!" he said, trying to look as tall as possible.
And don't look at me like that or I'm gonna run faster than a Blood Fire with the Prowl on his tail!
Krunch looked around the room and watched everyone's reactions. All he could do was shake his head. How can Digit and Velocity be so intimidated by such a slag-pile like this Kitfox, who claims to be Starscream?
I can understand the lady being spooked, but Velocity? Hmph, what a sad little 'bot.... real sad! he thought.
With that, the sergeant leaned against the bulkhead to watch the procedure. Krunch opened the compartment in his arm and pulled out his flask and took a long pull on it.
Kitfox slumped visibly when he saw Krunch go for his bottle. My choice between a female and a drunk. He watched the girl as she prepared several sharp, and painful-looking instruments. Under normal circuimstances, I'd choose the drunk. The girl looked nervous. More than likely, her fingers would slip. Kitfox watched her shaking hands another moment, then decided that enough was more than enough. He walked up to Velocity, and pushed the dogbot on the shoulder to get his attention.
The small bot gave a sharp yelp of surprise and stepped backwards, eyeing Kitfox warily. Velocity then managed to collect enough presence of mind to look tough.
"Yeah?" he said in a deep voice, trying to make himself sound extra-macho.
Kitfox rolled his eyes at Velocity's attempt, then pointed over to Digit. He gave the dogbot a questioning look, then, before Velocity could even attempt to answer, Kitfox shook his head disdainfully.
Velocity scratched his mohawk-adorned head, unsure of whether to react to the insult or attempt civility. "Uh...that's Digit. She's going to take the device out of your throat so you can talk to us. Some people think listening to you is needed." He made it clear that he wasn't one of them.
"But she's really good at what she does, so just don't...do somethin' dumb." That was advice, confused Velocity-style.
I KNOW the girl's name... Kitfox made an exaggerated 'hourglass' outline with his two hands, then looked from Digit to Velocity again, and shook his head.
The dogbot cocked his head, as if regarding Kitfox from a different angle would make comprehension come more easily.
"You...you're worried about time? Or Digit? Or...you just need a writing pad or somethin'?" He glanced at Krunch, as if the bigger bot was just the one to get it. After all, Velocity didn't know where the anything was in this room—Krunch was a superior, he probably would.
Kitfox put his palm to his forehead. Why weren't they catching on? Slag this stupid supressor...the sooner it was gone, the better. He looked over at Digit, hoping she at least had managed to pick up on the meaning of his gesture, but she seemed to be avoiding looking at him at all. Kitfox's face contorted into an almost exaggerated agony. His shoulders slumped, and for a moment, he wallowed in self-pity at his having to beg help from females and fools.
Kitfox gave Velocity a dismissive, irritated wave-off, then walked to the side of the medical cot. Standing opposite Digit as she prepared, he watched her downcast eyes. ...If this girl makes a PASS at me during any of this, I will throttle her.
Velocity narrowed his green eyes at the wave, but simply shrugged it off. When Kitfox had gotten that voice thingy, he should've known some people wouldn't understand him. He then began looking over the medbay a bit more closely, as he hadn't really paid attention to it before.
Digit had finished preparations for the surgery. Currently, she was still staring at her instruments, gathering courage to look up to Kitfox and tell him he could take place on the table. Closing her eyes, she took one last deep breath, and turned around.
"I... I am ready to begin the operation, Mr. Kitfox," she began, hating her own voice. But instantly, she realized her feelings had to be put aside if only for a while. She was on duty now, and they expected her to deliver. Focusing on her work ahead, her mind cleared a little.
"Please take your place on the surgery table, and we can begin the procedure." There. That had sounded normal and confident. Digit looked at Velocity for a second, and even managed to smile at him, telling that things were more or less under control again.
Kitfox winced, but did as she asked. ...It would all be over soon...
"Good," she stated, "let's get to work then."
The fox-bot closed his eyes.
—LA, DN, JA, AF