Revenge of the Nerds

AC Command Center

Once you enter this gigantic room, the first thing you notice is the big scanner sitting against the far wall. Looking like Teletran One's bigger cousin, the main computer that is Metroplex sits there checking the perimeter defenses of Autobot City. The gigantic viewer currently shows the exterior shot outside of Autobot City, a pastoral view of a wide plain surrounded by a large conifer forest. Several smaller monitors show different pictures, some of Earth by orbital satellite, others of various computer graphics, giving the viewer the current situation on Earth at a moment's notice.

Next to the main computer is a FTL communications terminal used for talking to Cybertron, Junkion, and other worlds. It is linked to Blaster's main communications tower located upstairs.

Along the other walls are assorted computer terminals that are used by individual Autobots for data processing and accessing information from the main computer core. On the wall to the right of the main computer is a large, recently finished portrait of Optimus Prime with Prowl and Ironhide in the background. A small caption below reads, "Until All Are One".

The usual laid back manner and operating efficiency of the AC Command Center is in complete dissarray. Teletran Two, the Autobots central computer, is humming through a myriad of ancient files. Cross refrencing them with known data and spitting out a steady printing of results. Beaker, AC's resident mad scientist's assisstant, is rushing from the screen to Jetfire and back again.

"Sir Jetfire, preliminary evaluations are still off on the data-pad's manufacture date. Our predictions were off by at least six vorns still." Beaker reports with a sigh, setting the data-pad back down on the table. "This thing is old Sir Jetfire, like -really- old."

1986 Pontiac Trans-Am  is for once in his life not driving around in circles. Instead, he is parked in the corner, bopping left and right on his suspension in (poorly kept) time with some song that isn't playing from any audible source, and making sounds like this: "rrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRR-nnnnrrrrrrrrrrrrrRrRrRrrrrRRRRRR!"

Jetfire lets out a bit of a sigh, but after trying several times and not getting it to stick already, gives up on trying to get Beaker to stop calling him 'Sir'. "If only we could carbon date the casing properly, but I don't want to risk it until we're sure its the only way." Sitting at one of the secondary stations, he's typing away at the console while looking up at his own screen every so often, to Beaker when he scrambles over, and back to his work again. "It's internals are working but in really bad shape, the code sequences are excessively fragmented from age.... we made need to get more invasive if we wish to actually try a recovery of data."

He lets out another sigh, shaking his head a bit at the minibot in the corner but for the most part ignoring it while focused on his work. When you spend several years working in the relatively cramped quarters of a crashed spacecruiser with the likes of Blaster and Jazz down the hall and Wheeljack blowing something up (or himself) in the lab next door, you learn to just phase it out in the background.

 Jetfire says, "At least for once its finally a technical puzzle I can solve without blowing something up." Adds after a half-beat ".... intentionally."

Warpath walks in, peering around at everyone and everything. He's careful that his tank barrel doesn't accidentally knock into someone or something. He could put an optic out with that thing! "Soooo, what's the BAM, good word?" he asks, "What kind of data we talking bout here?"

Kup wanders on over to see this puzzle that Jetfire's talking about. He muses aloud as he enters, "I wonder if it's one of those big stone circles, where if you slide the glyphs in place, you end up on the wrong planet, fighting brain-controlling aliens. I hate it when that happens."

Beaker nods eagerly, dashing back to Teletran-Two and grabbing the readouts. "Indeed, Sir Jetfire. One can only muse on how less of a challenge this would have been, -if- Omega Supreme thought to let us clean Crystal City sooner." he offers, tapping his chin and going over the data.

"Good word? Sir Warpath, I'm sure you're aware just as I am that a word cannot be good nor evil. However, if your intention is to ask how the project is coming along? Poorly. It appears this specific data-pad isn't listed serially, so it's hard to pinpoint even it's creation date. Kind of like Sir Kup, no?"

As if summoned by his words, Beaker hangs his head and goes right back to work. Hoping the elderly Autobot didn't hear what he said.

Monstereo strolls out of a storage closet backwards tellong the darkness within, "So that was the second time I got Scraplets. Well, that's my time. Thank you ladies and gentlemen." He presses the door button and it slides shut. He turns around and goes gawk-face at all the Autobots present. "Aye carumba."

That 1986 Pontiac Trans-Am isn't a mindless machine, after all! It's a Transformer! What a clever ruse!

Jetfire doesn't feel quite so odd when Beaker calls everyone with 'sir' at least. He looks up and over his shoulder as Beaker makes the remark about Kup's age, almost as if expecting the old-timer to be there, as he is. "Huh. Probabilities seem to be good tonight, it might be worth the chance," he muses, then turns back to the console to check something, then shifts to face the other Autobots by turning halfway to lean on the back of his chair with one arm.

"This exceptionally outdated data pad was found during the cleaning of Crystal City's 'basement'," he explains to those that have wandered in. "We've been trying to figure out just how old before we go poking around its insides... but it's proven to be a pandora's box in its own right there. Teletraan-2's files don't go back that far. And we currently lack access to Iacon's more extensive libraries, as you're all much too familiar with."

Tailgate hops up off the floor and dusts himself off. Well, he clanks his hands against his sides a lot, anyway. "Hey, guys! I bet you totally didn't notice me in the corner there, I'm totally like a ninja, or a spy, or some sort of ninja-spy! I call it a spinja! It's a real word, look it up. Spinja. Awesome."

Monstereo makes an 'ooooooh' face, complete with wide optics and lean-in to stare at the plot device.

"Eh, it's just a ZAM, figure of speech," Warpath says with a shrug. He looks over at the Junkion. "Practicing your bits?" he wonders. He can't think of any other reason for Monstereo to come out of the closet.

Kup snorts, "Don't call me 'sir'. I work for a living." He works security, in fact - it's his job to hear stuff people don't want him to. His audios ain't any better than anyone else's, but Kup at least pays attention. Right now, he looks over at the datapad, and he grimaces at the mention of fallen Iacon.

"Indeed, not to mention the touch and go repair we've been theorizing or the code we've written to get past potential encryption locks once we have started our work." Beaker adds in, typing frantically at Teletran-Two's center console. Rotating around in his seat, the gumbie still averts direct optic contact with Kup.

"Sir Tailgate, you weren't hiding. You were in a rest cycle, nothing more." he dutifully informs the eccentric Autobot, giving Monstereo a slight wave. "Perhaps Sir, err. Umm, Mr. Kup and Sir Monstereo could give their preliminary analysis of the data-pad? It's my understanding that the Junkions are quite knowledgeable of dated technology, and well. Mr. Kup is an expert in studies of archaic matters. Yes."

Tailgate walks right up to Jetfire and stands on his tiptoes to get a look at the datapad. "Oh I totally remember these. We used to do all of our calculumifications on these doodads back in the lab. I think the trick to turning them on is hurling them as hard as you can at the wall." Tailgate stares blankly at the datapad like he's switched off for a few seconds. "No, wait, that was cyberhandball, or maybe that game from TRON. At any rate, you should expose it to as strong a magnetic field as possible and then it will give you all its secrets! Or none of its secrets. One of those will happen, guaranteed." He starts whistling nervously for some reason.

"..." Jetfire turns, lightly but firmly picks Tailgate up, and reachs as far away as possible as he can (and he's got those long size 8 arms remember) before lightly setting the minibot back down. "No offense Tailgate, but a magnetic pulse is the last thing it needs right now, I don't think it's battered state could take it."

Tailgate flails! "Augh! For the last slagging time, I'm not Windcharger! HE was the dude with magnets for hands, not me! Died at the Battle for Autobot City, remember? Big damn hero?" He huffs as he's set away from the device.

Kup grumps, "Yeah, yeah, I'm old; you can say it." he steps closer and peers at the datapad, confirming, "Yeeeah, I remember these. Eeesh, last time we used those models was back when Straxus and Sentinel Prime were still stomping around the place, y'know? Though that was a decent span of time, lotta things happened in between..."

Monstereo whistles, "Welcome to the Antique Roadshow. This week we'll be telling people they've got expensive stuff they bought dirt cheap off of suckers who are kicking themselves now." He pulls his goggles down over his optics. "DatadatadatadatadatadataLore."

".. Older than we expected, then," Jetfire muses. "I've never even SEEN one from that time span, much less working." Despite being a bit perplexed and annoyed by the age, the scientist is none the less intrigued by it. With a grunt he turns his chair make to his station and starts typing. "Let's see if Teletraan can get it's way into it wirelessly despite the damages. Otherwise..." He pauses, looks at the pad again, then turns to look at Kup.

"Do these old things even -have- an external access port?"

Monstereo grins and cracks his knuckle joints one hand at a time. "If all else fails, we operate, nurse."

Warpath is mildly intrigued by the plot device. He rubs the back of his head. "So...what does this thing, BOOM, do exactly?"

"Straxus and Sentinel Prime?" Beaker muses, tapping at his chin. Striding up the stepping stool located near the table, the gumbie tech gets a better look at the data-pad. "Are you sure, Mr. Kup? Your analysis puts it at least thirteen hundred vorns before ours, much much much older than we even dreamed. Well, if we dreamed, that is."

Descending the mini-staircase one step at a time, Beaker grabs at another printout of readings and hands them to Jetfire.

"Do these things even have wireless capabilities?"

Kup grins and points out a slot along the side, explaining, "Uh, yeah, but we don't make the kinda disks it takes anymore." The kind where you can store Optimus Prime on a floppy disk. Then, he looks over at Beaker and nods, "Oh yeah, I'm sure. These things were a frakking pain to deal with. The '0' glyph key kept jamming. I'd remember 'em anywhere."

Tailgate is not content to just stand there quietly, instead bouncing back and forth from foot to foot. "Oooh, ooh, hit control-alt-delete, some dude told me to do that to myself once, but I didn't know what it meant."

Monstereo pops open his chest plate / truck hood and starts thumbing through his hidden compartment...

Jetfire sits back for a moment as the city's resident supercomputer is processing. "Not technically, but Teletraan should have enough power to hack the main circuitry via remote signal and pull out any accessable files remain--" He stops as the computer beeps and looks up at the main screen.

--DATA CORE PROBE COMPLETED. FRAGMENTATION OF CODE FILES TOO EXTENSIVE TO EXTRACT VIA FORCED REMOTE INVASIVE FTP-- "Suggetions then, Teletraan?" --SUGGESTION: DISPOSE OF FAULTY HARDWARE AND GET A NEW DATAPAD--

"..." Jetfire smacks his palm to his face for a moment, moreso at the tone of the reply than the results he more or less expected. "... Okay, I guess we need to do this old school. Monstereo, care to help... operate as you put it? We need to open the casing and insert a data probe into the core circuitry itself to pull up enough of the files for Teletraan to reassemble them without the fragmenting."

Tailgate laughs, too loudly. "Hahaha, put Kup in there and see what it says!"

"Are you certain that's a wise choice, Sir Jetfire?" Beaker adds, peering over his shoulder. "If you fail, we will most certainly lose any potential information this relic holds. Would it not be a wise decision to wait until our technology permits a more safe extraction of said files?"

Monstereo plucks out a roll of duct tape and a dremel circular saw looking bit. He hangs the roll of tape off of his helm horn and then attaches the circular bit to his finger tip. It whirs to life in a test run and he smiles. "The doctor is in. Place the patient on the operating table, nurse." He leans over the ancient data pad and asks in a dry Brittish accent, "Is it safe?" ~whir-WHIR~

Kup crosses his arms across his chest, leans back, and then says lowly, "Eh, I could shove /you/ in there, Tailgate, but I don't think the tech boys would like that."

Jetfire looks over for a moment to smile at Beaker. It's meant to be reassuring, but that's questionable. "Not -entirely-, but if we knew if every choice was right or not from the start, it wouldn't be a choice." Gently he picks the pad up and turns to set it on the console away from the computer terminals. "Just make a small insicion in the side to slide the physical probe in. Nothing too big or fancy... Besides," He turns back to pull a storage drawer open beneath the computers and retrieve the said probe and wires. "No risk, no reward." Plugs the connector into one of the spare access slots of Teletraan. "Sometimes science is less calculating and just -doing-."

Long pause.

"But you all may want to cross your finger servos, just in case."

"Roger that, Sir." Beaker exclaims, dashing to grab his 'Junior Scientist Kit' from a table lined up on the side of the room. Quickly returning to the table, the gumbie tech launches himself up the stepping stool and stares at Monstereo's methods. "I will uhh, leave the incision to you Sir Monstereo, I'm only here to assist afterall."

Monstereo smiles and starts singing to himself Hi-ho Hi-ho, it's off to work we go." He whistles as he begins delicately cutting away at the outer casing of the relic.

Warpath hasn't said a peep for a while, which means he's so engrossed in what's going on that he forgot to say something. "So is there a sticker on there in Ancient Autobot that says, FLOOM, 'Handle with Care'?"

Once the opening is made Jetfire slides the probe into place, having to wiggle a little, then push a little more, then wiggle a bit again before it clicks into place with a slight bit of sparks. "Make sure that stays in place." Monstereo has the duct tape, after all. "Beaker, plug your secondary terminal into the mainframe's I/O hookup. If this works, I'll need you to actually read the files while Teletraan and I reassemble them. Your portable has the better language filters, and this is probably going to be whatever archaic versions of cybertronian they used back then." With that he gets up and walks over to Teletraan-2's main keyboard and starts typing.

There's several minutes of waiting with baited breath...

And then the main monitor comes to life with a large digital cube... or at least it would be, if its multicolored segments weren't scattered all over the screen like the cube was paused in middle of exploding. Like if you took the readout screen from a defragmenting program and made it 3-D... which is pretty much what it is. "Bingo!" More curious than ever now, Jetfire starts typing away at a furious pace, working along with Teletraan's processing power to get to work. Colored segments shift, move, get pulled out of the formation and plugged back in, and as they line up the cubical shape starts to slowly form. ".. There's a missing piece here and there that's not readable even now, but," he looks up towards Beaker briefly. "You should start getting readouts shortly."

Tailgate plops himself down on a Minibot bench and folds his arms across his chest. "Harrumph, this is boring. Don't you guys ever do anything not boring? Why can't we do something awesome like challenge it to a street race and if it loses it gives up the info, and if we lose we totally have a huge party?"

Beaker nods eagerly, his head bobbing around like one of the dolls of numerous characters or sports teams. His secondary terminal whirs to life as it starts processing and translating the files held on the disk, the whole time he's wincing as if the contraption will blow up in his face. "Step one completed, Sir Jetfire. Printouts should start commencing shortly, Mr. Kup?"

"He's not serious, is he?" Beaker questions, regarding Tailgate.

Kup holds up a hand and asides to Beaker, "Tailgate's got this magnet in him that he uses to, well, tailgate other vehicles, but I reckon the magnet's made his drives go screwy. Sad, really. Boy coulda been a surgeon or a shuttle pilot, but those power chip rectifier designers, they get these wild ideas for special abilities and don't think it through."

Monstereo does a little duct tape magic to make things secure, then proceeds to make a few duct tape wallets for tourists to Autobot City. Idle hands are the devils playground afterall. Meanwhile, his head watches the work. He whispers narratively, "What secrets lie within the pages? What mysteries will unfold from the intriguing artefact? Tune in tomorrow, film at eleven."

Tailgate used to be an electromagnet designer before his brain thing! The tragedy!

Just don't call him an albino Windcharger, he doesn't like that.

Leucistic?

"Very well then." Beaker mumbles, making sure to leave enough excess cord from himself to the data-pad as he steps down from the stool. Sauntering over to Teltran-Two, the gumbie tech runs another plug into the printer. Whirring to life, the printer begins to shoot out pages like crazy, one after another of ancient Cybertronian text. "Mr. Kup, would you be so kind as to translate this?" he asks of their senile mentor, a stack of pages already in hand and held out to the codger.

"It was one of the many objects we recieved from Omega Supreme, Sir Warpath."

Jetfire just grunts a little as he works, he's doing that focusing out most of the background thing again. Though not entirely, as he still makes a reply to Warpath. "It was in a box of stuff in one of the storage rooms from what I understand, but in its delapitated state they thought it was junk... for all we know it could be a list of sentinel robot grease replacement scheduals." Chuckles a bit. "But better to look and find that, than not look at all..."

Tailgate meanwhile is picking something off one of his tires. "Ew, gum! Yet another symbol of roboppression!"

Kup takes the stack of pages, makes a noise like he's clearing his voicebox, and then looks at what he's actually translating. "Blah, blah, boilerplate. If there's one thing you can't escape, even in the past, it's bureacracy." Kup doesn't sound thriled. He thumbs through the pages, skimming and looking for something more interesting.

"In all our inspection and theorizing, this only comes to me now Sir Jetfire. What if the data-pad contains nothing more than a supply manifesto or schematics for an ancient shuttle?" Beaker muses aloud to his 'boss', handing Kup more pages as they spit out from the printer.

It's really too bad that Warpath doesn't have much technical knowledge. He finds this fascinating, though it doesn't really sink in. "I should ask Hoist to ZAP, gimme a processor upgrade!" he says. Idly he silently wonders whether Air Raid got any of his stuff back from the Decepticons, or at least got some of it replaced.

Tailgate pulls the gum off his tire and now it's stuck to his fingers. "Ewww! Gross!" He tries wiping it off on the underside of the bench. "What if it's totally got the plans for, like, Trypticon or something? We could build a new giant dinosaur and finally put Grimlock back to work at his old job as a janitor, and then we can all be like 'haw haw you Grimlock sweeping up scrap' and stuff, that would be frackin' sweet!"

Jetfire looks up over his shoulder for a moment. "If it is, then at least we've perfected a way to emergency access ancient datapads should any more turn up." Well, it is true.

Kup pauses, thumbing one page, and he remarks," Eh, something about an energon refinery? Y'wanna take a look at this, Jetfire? Might mean more to you than it does to me." The veteran shrugs and looks at the next batch of pages.

Jetfire was about to go back to typing, but looks up at abruptly. "... Energon refinery?" Turns back to Teletraan-2 and his fingers fly over the keys with even faster purpose than before. The partially reassembled cube representing the assorted files rotates and shuttles around as more and more of the color pieces are put back into place. "Let's see if we can find any more similar references..." The potential for a forgotten source of energon? This is suddenly a -lot- more interesting...

"Andi! are you in here? Miss Lassi-Woah." that was Reidan, stepping into this command center like a mouse might into the kitchen. He grinds to a halt, carrying a paper bag that steamed slightly and blinked, staring up at those present. "... "

"Salutations, fellow Autobots!" And here comes Highbrow! "I'll not fritter away time on trivial apologetics; my tardiness is a...personal matter, of sorts. Gort required sustenance, and, given our symbiosis, I was forced to delay my arrival. Nonetheless, you may now rest assured that, whatever connundrum is presented before us, it shall be unraveled expidently now that I have arrived." If Highbrow had a pipe, he'd no doubt be puffing it at this point. He pauses, however, and finally looks to the various Autobots present, almost as if their presence was a secondary matter. "...so just what are we working on?""

Beaker desposits another stack of papers next to Kup, sighing as the printer whirrs with newly printed papers of anything that included Jetfire's search topics. Any instance of 'Energon' 'Refinery' 'Fuel' 'Source' is highlighted upon the page, with excess data before and after, to help pinpoint it's relevance on the subject matter. "Sir Jetfire, new pages concerning your search string are ready." he dutifully reports, handing those to the resident SCIENTIST EXPERT.

"Greetings Mr. Human, we're exploring the nigh infinite pleasures of data extraction from an archaic device. Please, join us!"

Tailgate flicks the remaining gum at the floor for some other poor sap to step in. Then he notices Reidan. "Oh sweet, the takeout guy is here! Did you bring any Mu Shuu pork? I can't stand the stuff personally but it's an awesome word. Mu Shuu. Moooooshoooooooo, just kinda rolls out of the voicebox, like ooooooooooooooooooo."

"Well if it's got refinery information, but it's ZOWIE, old, well then would it still be working? Or would it BOOM, be in ruins?" Warpath wants to know. He turns to stare at Tailgate. "You can't even, ZAM, eat moo shoe pork!"

"oh, I'd be delighted! Ah, a hand up though? " requests Reidan "I am tall but not THAT tall! I"ll see what information I can wrest from the ancient rosetta stone set before us! See if I still have that old 'touch' I used to have."

Kup waves some papers around in the air and points out, "Eh, could have been blown up by the Decepticons. Always been ones to kill the golden goose, them."

Jetfire frowns slightly. Either the phrase was used a lot, or he needed to narrow down the search. But at least it was getting somewhere. "Though there's always the potential of a stash of energon remaining, if not the facilities working in themselves. Can we really neglect a potential source, even temporarily, of resources in our current situation? ... Oh, Highbrow, there you are." After thumbing through several of the pages, he picks out a few and hands them over to the Headmaster. "These appear to be part of a point-coordinate grid of directions. Back in the day before elaborate navigational computers and faster-than-light surveying relays. Run them through a astro-topography analysis on one of the computers and see if they can get a better pinpoint on what region of space it is." He then goes back to flipping through several of the other pages. By this point the defragmentation has gotten far enough that Teletraan seems to be handling it fine itself.

Tailgate stands up and points a very accusing finger at Warpath. "Why not? Because I'm a minibot? That hurts coming from you, Warpath. We were brothers, once!"

Monstereo says, "He ain't heavy"

Kup wags a finger and notes, "Son, you're gonna have to look at where the stars were back /then/, and then figure out where it is /now/. That's the problem with old star maps. Things don't stay put in space. But I guess you've dealt with that plenty, yourself."

Jetfire replies, "That's why I gave them to Highbrow to put through the computer instead of using my own." Taps his chest/cockpit. "My navcom doesn't -go- that far back.. but Metroplex's system has the spare computing power to make the reverse trangulations, Highbrow."

Reidan remains at the floor for now as he waits for a lift, listening to the discussions. He hums "May I have a ten second recap of what we DO know? " he asks, lifting his hand as though at school.

Highbrow gives an appraising look at the collection of sentients present: Some unhinged minibots, Kup, A Junkion, a few others- and (because Gort's made him look downwards) some humans, to boot! He turns his nose up in the air, just a fraction- it helps that he has to look up at Jetfire. "Interesting." he says, and then starts leafing through the papers- he crosses over towards a computer console, and then starts punching in data as needed. "A query, however." pause. "TWO queries, rather. The primary one being: have we any idea how to acertain the original provenance of this information cache? And the second-" Highbrow looks over his shoulder, and makes an airy gesture to the non scientists about (that is, everyone except he and Jetfire) "What have the hoi-polli to offer to our research?"

"I can't CRUNCH, eat it either," Warpath says to Tailgate, "None of us minibots can. We're not POW, Insecticons, or ZOOM, Terrorcons, after all."

Tailgate flings his hands skyward like a ranting street preacher. "That's just what THEY want you to think, to keep you in LINE, man! We're so much more than what THEY want us to think we are! They're laughin' at us, man. Look at the minibots, ha ha, hey Rodimus let's go get some Mu Shuu pork and not tell them because we're so awesome and tall! Don't you see what they're doing?"

"Background chatter, white noise, and Kup is the only one that's old enough to read these -without- the computer translation due to dialect timeframe." Jetfire answers the second question first, smirking a bit. "And to answer your first question, that's what we're trying to figure out as it is. If it came from some forgotten off-world energon refinery, it could seriously help our supply issues." Guess some of the other techs just aren't as good at zoning out background hijinks as he is.

"If you mean me sir..." notes Reidan to Highbrow "I have nothing to add as I have not had any content given to calculate what we need to derive. You can't start to solve a formula without knowing a few of the numbers first." He explains.

Beaker frowns, or the best his robotic face can emulate, at Reidan. "While your stature might be small Sir, your human thought process might be inducive in ascertaining our dilemmia." he muses, smiling. Upon Highbrow's arrival, the gumbie tech hurries over to his position and bows.

"Archivist and general lab technician Beaker at your service, Sir Highbrow."

Kup puts one hand on his hip and drawls, "Well, if you gotta ask, Mr. Swallowed A Thesaurus, I'm here as a /translator/."

Monstereo smiles and then declares in a deep Ogre like voice, "NNNNEEEEEERDS!" He claps.

Hot Spot enters the command center after hearing some news of a strange find. "Hey guys, sorry I am late and all, but I heard that we have found somethin strange object?"

"Hello, Hot Spot. You could say that." Jetfire pulls out a few more pages and hands them to Kup. "Here, try looking at these. I can't read the ancient glyphs directly, but the layout style looks similar to a mission manifest"

Reidan taps his foot a few times, sighing as he shifts the takeout food to his other hand, looking at the blue one who walks in "Hello. MIght I borrow a ladder for a few minutes? ' he asks politely.

"I see." Highbrow deadpans- and he glances over at Kup, "Well, you are the most archaic one present, so at least it's being put to a positive use?" and Highbrow taptaps a few more commands into the computer. "And this relic came into our possession...how?" he has to ask.

Warpath facepalms. "Tailgate, did you actually ever WOW, eat that stuff, and did you have to get your fuel tank purged afterwards? Whatever gave you the idea you could WHACK, eat human food?"

Kup snaps, "I'm vintage, ya meat-for-brains, and this here says..." Kup takes the sheet, peers at them, and reads off the mission manifest, which includes the location.

Hot Spot turns his head towards Reidan, giving him his attention. "Well, sure, I guess I can lend you a /hand/ on something. I do enjoy helping out others when they need the help. So why do you need my ladder for?"

Reidan points at the way-overhead computer where the information was and most of the view of what they were looking at "A hand will do just as well. Sadly I am rather rusty at my self-levitation skills, so I can't get myself up there on my own." he explains simply.

"It was one of the many items Omega Supreme deemed 'refuse' after our cleaning of Crystal City's catacombs, Sir Highbrow. Sir Jetfire and myself have been diligently at work trying to find a safe way to crack it's near disfunctional state, the answer coming in abandoning our usual methodical and safe practises for something more." Beaker stops to consider the right terminology.

"Reckless."

Tailgate's optics blink on and off with no particular pattern. "Eat human food? What are you, nuts? I don't even have a mouth. Weirdo!"

Monstereo says, "Sometimes you feel like a nut. Sometimes you don't."

Jetfire laughs a little at Beaker's assessment. "If there's one thing I've learned in the last few schemes, it's that sometimes you've got to think outside of logical and rational."

Highbrow ah. "I see." Highbrow says, not bothering to look away from his monitor- though he's got his visor narrowed in annoyance. "Hmmm. If I may, I've noticed a reoccuring pattern of digits in the information-set...I'm working on devising an algorythm to decipher them as we converse." *typeatypeatype*

Hot Spot nods and starts to approach the computer that Reidan had just described. "Well, usually one can use my ladder when I am in my truck mode and transforming in here may not be such a good idea. Hmmm... maybe I can try pulling it out or something?" The Protectobot rubs his chin area, thinking out the situation.

Monstereo says, "Algorythm, youllgorythm, wellgorythm for your algorythm."

"Oh, a hand up will be just as easy though. No need to put you too out of sorts." notes Reidan, shifting impatiently at being left on the floor by others.

Beaker turns towards Kup, pacing with finger tapping away at his chin. "In the Lygian system, are you sure Sir err. Mr. Kup? If Teletran-Two is accurate in it's archives, there is no record of any energon refinery there. Or any documented activity for that matter."

Warpath just facepalms even harder and shakes his head. Is it just him, or does Tailgate have ADHD? "Neither do I," he replies.

Tailgate yells, "Augh! Oh Primus someone make the Junkion just! Stop! Talking! I feel like I'm taking crazy pills!"

Reidan winces at the yelling.

"Now now, Tailgate, he ain't BOOM, doin' any harm," Warpath says.

Monstereo arches an optic brow at Tailgate. "How rood."

Kup busts out laughing and slaps his knee. "Oh, lad... none of our archives are really what you'd call accurate. For robots, we're slag-poor about keeping track of data. Besides, the mission could been in the black, disavowed. Lemme look." He thumbs through the papers again.

"Alright, Reidan, just come over here and I'll lift you up to the computer. I'm sure I'm tall enough to get you up there!" Hot Spot nods and gets ready to help.

Reidan turns and jogs towards Hot spot "Finally! Thank you very much! I was worried I would miss the best parts." he jumps into the hand as best he could - quite nimble for his age and crouches for the ride up. "Would someone PLEASE tell me what we do know about this data please? " he asks again to the others present.

"Teletraan-2's files may not -reach- that far back though," Jetfire reminds them. Then rubs his chin with his fingers as he steps over to peer over Kup's shoulder. Not hard to do with his height. ".. They -could- of attempted to keep it black ops to prevent Decepticon detection." Looks up at Highbrow. "Is that sector of space in the files at all?"

"Its very old and only now are we starting to put the pieces together for ourselves, Reidan," he explains to the human once he's up to the same general level of interaction thanks to Hot Spot's hand. "Maybe Kup has heard of it in a story though!" He laughs a bit at that one.

Monstereo puts his duct tape roll away and hurumfs. "Screw you guys, I'm going home." He blows a raspberry at tailgate and then moonwalks on out to leave the science stuff to the Autobuddies.

"Aw, now look what you done," Warpath says crossly, "You ZAM, scared him away. Shame on ya, Tailgate!"

Hot Spot slowly raises Reidan, making sure that the small Bot doesn't fall. He, too, asks the same question that Reidan asked earlier, wondering the same thing. "Yeah, I am wondering that, too. What do we know about this data?"

Highbrow nods to Jetfire. "Researching..." and more clicks, more typing- and Highbrow scratches at his head. "Hmm. Only the most tenuous of summaries- the sector's EXISTENCE is verifiable, though there's not much in the way of further information available. Pity."

Reidan hmms "May I see a human sized copy of the symbols I overheard? " he asks, taking a seat there on the console with a pat of thanks to Hot Spot "Thank you very much Blue! This is MUCH better." Tailgate makes a rude gesture after Monstereo. "Jerk!" The little Bot shakes his head. "Who was that guy?"

--RESCALING OUTPUT SIZE-- Teletraan-2 replies, and a small human-sized screen pops up next to Reidan. A lot of the consoles have human-sized pop-up screens, seeing how many of the Autobots' human allies also populate the city at any given time.

Warpath puts his fists on his hips and snorts. "Only the coolest Junkion there is," he says.

Sludge lumbers into the command center, kicking over some tools that were placed neatly against the wall. He looks down and seems surprised that the tools have spun out of the toolbox, spinning across the floor, "Stupid tools," he tells them. He picks up a hammer and looks at it.

Beaker turns to regard Kup, "Surely, Mr. Kup. You've heard or experienced a tale from that particular system? Although Sir Jetfire, I'm unsure as to the validity of the 'story' in question, or how informative it'll be given the passing of time and accuracy to detail."

The gumbie tech wanders back over towards Highbrow, and just stands behind him reading the output from the screen.

Tailgate gasps, "Coup-Less? Why didn't you tell me?!"

"You are most welcome, Reidan! If you need to go back down on the ground, then just ask, okay buddy?" Hot Spot turns his attention to the noise of tools falling out of the toolbox when he sees the Dinobot with the hammer in his hand. "Nice for you to come, Sludge!"

Highbrow startles just a bit as Sludge lumbers in, and...peers at the big primitive, before giving Jetfire an exasperated look. "And I suppose the sauropod is here to provide valuable insight into the edible flora of the Jurassic period?"

"I'm pretty sure the pad dates back to well before that period of history," Jetfire replies wryly.

"Mr. Kup's preliminary analysis puts it well before that period, yeah." Beaker agrees with Jetfire, minus the wry.

Kup rubs his chins and muses, "Lygian system, Lygian system, where have I heard that before?" He snaps his fingers. "Oh yeah, the Lygians were these barbarians who lived on the outskirts of a mighty Empire. Now, they didn't like the gods that Empire worshipped, so they brought it down, 'cos the Empire got cocky and looked down on 'em."

Sludge plods over to Hot Spot ultra slowly, kicking a leftover screwdriver inadvertantly off his toe. He seems happy Hot Spot has welcomed him and smiles in a simple way, handing the hammer over to him, "You's right, me Sludge am nice to come," he explains helpfully, "Will help," he adds simply, looking around slowly.

Highbrow hmphs as his sarcastic query is met with...more sarcasm! Such a shame. Instead, he glances over to Kup, and hmms. "Would this Empire- or the barbarians, for that matter, have the means of refining energon?"

"It's no worse than the vage information we have as it is," Jetfire grins a bit as he replies to Beaker's questioning. As Kup starts to retell, he walks over to the console Highbrow was using, opens up his chest compartment, and plugs into the terminal to download the vage bit of information the headmaster found into his own astronav-comp. A few indicator lights in his chest compartment can be seen flickering back and forth as the datastream transfers, not that it's very large.

"Regardless.. I believe this bears farther investigating. Even if whatever facility is long gone, that they went somewhere energon could potentially be harvested from bears the possibility the source may still be present..... That, and now I'm just goddamn curious in general."

Warpath just sighs and rubs his faceplate. "WHAM, BAM, whatever, man," he says. Talking to Tailgate is like talking to a hyperactive 3 year old!

Curious scientists, worse than goddamn curious cats.

Taking a seat, the chinese food is set down "oh! uh, what is the permits for eating in here? " Reidan asks curiously as he starts to read the screen, tapping at one symbol then another, mostly to highlight and deselect them seemingly at random.

Tailgate harrumphs at the human. "Well apparently no one is allowed to eat, like it's some kind of crime against nature."

Hot Spot takes the hammer from Sludge. "Help from you will help us greatly, Sludge." He turns towards Jetfire and folds his arms with the hammer in his right. "If you need some Bots to help you investigate this matter, Jetfire, then I will volunteer to help... unless I get a call from Earth for a future project there."

Sludge frowns and finally notices the minibots playing around, but parentally says nothing for now. He turns his head back to Jetfire and tries to keep up with the more important conversation, "Me Sludge wonder who call Hot Spot," he wonders, rubbing his chin, "Hmmmm...." he rumbles.

Kup shrugs and explains, "Eh, energon wasn't so hot back then in most parts of the galaxy. Now, energy conductors, those were a hot item." Reidan ahhs at Tailgate and nods "Ah well. IT will keep " he taps at the screen again and hums a short tune "How did that go now... " he muses to himself.

Highbrow doesn't let Kup start another old man story! "I see. Thank you." he nods to Kup- and then hives a little sigh. "And again, the situation is distilled into a need for field operations. I don't anticipate we shall be fortuitous enough to avoid Decepticon skullduggery on such an endeavor, but optomism is an Autobot trait, no?" he hmms. "Regardless, I shall take a second, solitary look at the data offered, and confer with you should I discern any novel information." he offers to Jetfire- and then he tromps on out himself!

Tailgate asks, leading, "Hey Kup, how hot were they?"

Tailgate snickers quietly (and somewhat shamefully now).

Beaker marches up the step stool again, carefully disconnecting the wires to the data-pad and placing it in a large metal tin with 'FRAGILE' written on the topside. "Now that we've gathered as much data we could with Teletran-Two, I'll keep this for future use Sir Jetfire."

The gumbie pauses to look at Sludge. "For safety concerns and all."

Kup just stares at Tailgate and snaps, annoyed, "Not like that, ya circuit-perv!"

Warpath can't help himself. He just bursts out laughing.

Hot Spot chuckles a bit, trying to hold his loud laughter.

"With our situation Kup, energy -anything- would be of a benefit," Jetfire replies once the transfer is complete and he unhooks his internal computer from the console. "As much as I want to work farther on harvesting from those solar panels in Dyson.. The Decepticon presence is making it difficult. Even a small secondary stockpile until we can solidfy that project without harassment would be a benefit... You do that, Highbrow. And that would be great, Hot Spot. If there -is- a refinery there, still, maybe we'll be able to repair enough of it to squeeze a few more cubes out." He clicks his chest compartment shut. "I... think that's the most we can get, for right now. Your right, best to put that somewhere safe, Beaker. It's an artifact in its own right."

... And then just sort of stares at Kup and Tailgate for a long moment. Then smirks a bit himself. "Are you saying they had hot bauds, Kup?" ... If Monstereo was still here there would probably be a groan track after that one.