Bound

Undersea Base - Infirmary

The infirmary consists of a collection of open hexagonal and circular rooms. The entrance gives way to a hexagonal room, with a circular surgical suite to the left, a computer console to the right, and a hexagonal office in front. The office has a workstation to the left, a circular storage closet to the front right, and a corridor to the back right. The floors are aqua, the walls are blue, and the circular surgical suite and storage closet are circumscribed in grey.

The corridor leads to the diagnostic and research centre. This hexagonal room is three times the size of the infirmary. There are no interior walls, only open space between the five stations, each with their own computer, heads up display, equipment, desk, and table. In the centre of the room, there is a common storage closet.

Marauder lies on one of the medical beds. A team of mechanical appendages lower from the ceiling, running over his body in a faint blue light. The lines from those instruments crisscross and intersect a she is examined. Others penetrate his systems, displaying their readings on a variety of monitors located behind and to his right. He stirs, optics flickering and then flashing open, and he moves to rise, but is unable to do so. He glances down to gaze upon the restrains. Unable to see anyone at first, as he cannot twist his head that way thanks to the restraints, he asks aloud, "To whom do I owe for this hospitality?"

Cyclonus emerges from the shadows to approach the bed Marauder is lying upon. "Myself, of course," he explains. "Your systems were in... *dire* condition. You were not simply damaged during your journey, your jury-rigged repairs made an utter mess of your internals. I am told most of your components had to be ripped straight out, and replaced entirely." He raises a brow. "In many ways, you will find that you are a... new mechanism."

A sand-covered Stegosaur enters! He makes his way over to the wash racks. Looks like he's been playing Sandcastle and Speedbump again.

Monster comes into the medbay, an eyeridge raising as he sees someone locked to a medbay. He hmmms, "Interesting."

Marauder nods as much as he can in acknowledgement of Cyclonus' words. And then, as he begins to remember, and fully awaken, he flexes closing and opening his newly rebuilt hand, which is connected through an equally new forearm, elbow, and shoulder. His sensors detect the noise of sand being crushed between the metal of the floor and the leg of some kind of mechanical creature. "Lord Cyclonus, I present no danger to you, or those under your command. You need not restrain me as such."

Cyclonus slowly paces around the medical table. "Is that so? And yet, I can't help but recall the fate of your fellow... 'crewmen' on board that chunk of our planet. Snaptrap may have satisfied that, regardless of whatever else may have happened, the strong lived and the weak died. However, as Starscream demonstrated shortly before his death, to have the Decepticons devolve into anarchy and chaos whenever some calamity afflicts us accomplishes nothing besides sap our strength and morale. So, I must know, Marauder, that you will not continue to butcher your fellow Decepticons simply because you are larger and stronger than them."

Monster blinks, "So, you kill allies. I kill ally." He rahrs, before transforming out of rahr beast mode

Marauder has no alternative but to look up at Cyclonus. He is strapped to a repair bed, while the former Herald of Unicron is free to move about as he sees fit. He listens and does not interrupt, gauging his leader carefully, and considering his words with equal caution. "But Lord Cyclonus," he protests, "I am no butcher. No, that title would be more fitting for our Field Commander." He is of course referring to Snaptrap's nickname, the butcher of the bogs. "You do know how he earned that moniker, do you not?" The tone with which he says that would suggest that he knows more than he's letting on, that there might be more than just what is in the official record. But, before Cyclonus can dwell on that for too long, Marauder adds, "I may regret divulging this, but Lord Cyclonus, I would advise you to access file number DCI7810627-35. I could decrypt it for you, but I believe you may enjoy the aesthetics of the encryption protocol I used."

Cindersaur chuckles softly, "I just set fire to ally and watched him melt into puddle. No need to open file blah-blah-blah though, it would be entertaining to watch again."

Cyclonus doesn't look impressed. "Snaptrap, a butcher? Of course he is. He's a butcher of *Autobots* and I've hardly a quarrel with that. He did suffer a while under the command of the Quintessons, but he's gotten better since then. In regards to that file--" He pauses for a moment. "--hm, a rather sturdy encryption routine, suitable for its security rating." Getting praise from Cyclonus is like squeezing water from a rock, so Marauder should feel lucky to get that much out of him. "So you wished to save Lord Megatron? Noble, but it's fortunate that you did not, else he would not be reborn as he is now. Tell me, how far in your plan did you get?" He holds a finger up to Cindersaur. "Now, now, no burning in here." He points to a sign that says 'No Smoking.' "Have to consider the health of the patients after all."

Slugfest steps into the shower and is scrubbed by automated brush arms as the soap and water sprays down on him. He looks like a poodle getting shampooed. He peeks out of the wash area and says, "Butcher? If need saw, use me!"

And at that moment, the butcher appears. His audial receptors must be burning... A hiss escapes into the room as the two door halves leading into the infirmary meet again, betraying Snaptrap's added presence. He thunders into the room, causing all manner of medical equipment to clatter about, and immediately recognizes the unique violet hue of the Decepticon's second in command. Snaptrap moves to observe whatever could have drawn Cyclonus' presence here. Looming over the Herald, the Seacon peers beyond him and at the restrained form of Marauder lying on the hostpial table below. "Ah, yes. That one..." He glances down to Cyclonus, eyeing him for a moment. To be sure, he inquires, "Is he being repaired, or is this an interrogation?"

A dead coloured Tetrajet Seeker walks into the Infirmary suddenly. He's looking at his right foot from time to time as he walks, favouring it just slightly. He also seems to look just 'annoyed'. Well dead annoyed.. or annoyed dead. It’s hard to tell but Windshear truly does look like the walking dead. If not for the fact his armour is pristine and he’s clean, and the fact that his optics and wing signals have colour to them, it could be day of the living dead.

"Hey..." he rumbles and then hears the word 'Megatron' and stops, "What about The Great Slag Maker?" he asks and fixing his gaze on Cyclonus.

Marauder explains from his bed, “I had made arrangements for a pilot, a medic, a stellar cartographer, and a fueller to accompany me,” which ironically is exactly the number of corpses that were found with Marauder, “and had planted a virus in our central database to cover for our respective absences,” which in the end was his undoing, as they were not among the missing after Unicron’s attack. “In the end, barring an act of a god, it would have worked. I just failed to account for the actions of a god. I shall not make that mistake again.”

"Both," Cyclonus replies to Snaptrap. "And as to your question, Windshear, this one--" He gestures towards Marauder. "--attempted an act of loyalty that the rest of you could learn from. Sadly, however, it remains to be seen if he is the same loyal mechanoid he used to be. His mind may have been... damaged." He looks back down at Marauder. "Hm. Excellent precautions, but perhaps you overestimated Starscream. He likely would have been too busy admiring his reflection to notice your absence. Also, accounting for the actions of gods is not something you should fault yourself for. Even Galvatron struggled to do so, it pains me to say. Hm. Now, can someone here tell me how many individuals Marauder included in his team, according to his story?..."

Windshear narrows his optics, "What do you mean an act of loyally the rest of /us/ could learn from? It was an 'act of loyalty' that caused my absence from the Empire for 4 million years..." he snorts slightly and then raises an optic ridge, "Why do you mention Starscream? Why? Why can’t that mech be forgotten in peace?"

Cyclonus regards Windshear coldly. "Perhaps you're thinking of the wrong incident. Marauder attempted to save Megatron after Starscream jettisoned him from Astrotrain's hold after the Battle of Autobot City.

Slugfest is still busy getting scrubbed down, and dirty sandy suds are pouring into the sluiced drain below the stegotape.

Marauder says, "I find that things go best when you plan contingencies for the flashes of brilliance as well as the incompetence of your adversaries. Starscream, for all his faults, and they were numerous, had the capacity to be a formidable adversary, when he didn't negate his innate abilities." Then he seems to have given up, slinking back into his bed, no longer trying to rise against the restraints, "I serve Galvatron. If it his will that I serve him from this bed, then so be it."

Windshear grins oddly, "Starscream did what anyone else would have done -- it is the way of the Empire. You should know /that/ Cyclonus." he pauses a beat and continues, "And I speak of the fact that to this cycle everyone still bad talks the Air Commander. He was the only Air Commander I knew... and Im still loyal to him AND Megatron..." he starts to say something else then stops.

Cindersaur shakes his head, then goes to see what the steggie is up to

Marauder adds, as an afterthought, "The answer you sought was four."

Cyclonus fixes Windshear with a critical glare. "*Galvatron,*" he corrects. "Have a care, Windshear, not to say something so foolish in front of him. Starscream was a traitor and a fool, and was lucky to survive as long as he did. Furthermore? The way of the Empire is whatever Galvatron says it is, and I'd say I know his mind better than you." He turns his gaze back down to Marauder. "Hm. Yes. Four. I believe we found that many bodies on your 'ship?'" He paces around the bed. "So you're resigned to this, then. Hm. For the best, perhaps... I'd hate to see you try to chop up Galvatron himself for parts. Maybe you fancy that large fusion cannon on his arm, hm?"

A wing twitches in annoyance at Cyclonus' words but Windshear doesn’t say anything. He’s not quite /that/ stupid.

Marauder tries to nod in the affirmative, but it proves difficult in his current position. "You would be correct. I see we will not progress until I explain. When Galvatron arrived and killed Starscream, it triggered a contingency in my plan. We met in my office, ostensibly to discuss an attempt to track down the crew of the Hellbender, but in actuality we were to go our separate ways." There is probably more, but he does not elaborate. "However, Unicron chose that moment to attack. We were removed from Cybertron, along with a piece of Cybertron. Sadly Triage, our medic was the first to be deactivated, after an altercation with our fueller, Tanktainer. The stellar cartographer Graphic, attempted to leave under his own power. It was not a popular choice, least of all with our pilot, Satnav. He would see his end due to the effects of energon depletion, as would Tanktainer. I nearly succumbed myself. But as Snaptrap said, survival goes to the fittest."

Slugfest is now going through the rinse cycle. Once the last bit of sand and dirt has swirled down the drain, the blow dryer turns on full blast.

Windshear seems to have a permanent scowl on his handsome face as he hears further comments regarding his Air Commander. He leans against the nearest wall and lights an enercig. Huffing out some purple smoke from the pull he just took he remains silent and just listens, now in somewhat of a foul mood one could say.

Cyclonus says nothing for a few moments, quietly appraising Marauder. "Hm. The story seems sensible enough, and there's no proof that it isn't true... and yet, I find myself hesitating. A great deal may be riding on keeping you in--or out--of that bed. Snaptrap, what say you?"

Snaptrap shifts slightly at Cyclonus' answer to his original question, his optics narrowing as he returns to survey Marauder as the dialogue continues. He folds his giant arms across his belly, peering intently as he processes the 'story'. At Cyclonus' appeal, the Seacon finally rumbles. "I would not call those energon stains that were once Decepticons the result of an 'altercation'. It was much more than that. I have left Autobots in similar states. There is something more to this fairy tale of yours that you aren't sharing." Snaptrap snorts, accusatory but at the same time inwardly nonplussed about Marauder. After all, what is a Decepticon without his secrets?

Windshear doesnt say anything. He didn’t hear the whole 'story' and he’s too busy fuming over his own issues now. After all, what is a Decepticon without his secrets?

Cindersaur goes to play in the armoury

"Personally, I might have preferred deactivation. Better that than descend into the disgrace of cannibalism," Cyclonus says. "But it may not matter what I would have done. Snaptrap may be correct that you are hiding something from us, but without evidence..." He sighs, walks over to the control console for the medical table, and enters several commands. The restraints go 'click' as they snap open. "I'm taking responsibility for releasing you, Marauder. Which means that if you embarass me in some way..." He doesn't finish that thought, partly because he tells Cindersaur before he leaves, "Don't burn anyone. Or anything."

Before the door shuts, there's an 'aww...' from the firecon

Marauder accepts, "You might, others might, but I continued to function so that I might serve Galvatron. If it comes to it, I will use whoever and whatever is at my disposal in the service of Galvatron, including myself, or did you forget that I sacrificed my arm to get here. Do you really think that I have the technical expertise to remove it, use it in the transformation of an office complex into a spacecraft, energon collector, and then pilot it, accurately to Cybertron's former coordinates, and then this world afterwards?"

Snaptrap remains still, watching the proceedings with a certain degree of reservation. He takes a step back to allow the newly released Decepticon some 'breathing' room, as it were. Cyclonus' taking responsibility for Marauder's release puts whatever nagging thoughts Snaptrap might have had and puts them to rest. The Seacon was never worried about the individual per se... he has dealt with many types in his time serving the Empire. Marauder did not seem special in any way that would prove him to be beyond the capability of the Decepticon's military general. He remains observant, nonetheless. At the small diatribe provided by Marauder upon his acquisition of freedom, Snaptrap guffaws and loudly. "You don't want me to answer that."

Cyclonus glances at Windshear after releasing Marauder. "Soldier, it wounds me to see you so angry at the universe for your lot in life. You are here to learn a lesson in humility, to learn that you will go wherever you are ordered to, no matter how much it displeases you." He looks back to Marauder, and glowers. "To know all of these things is not out of the realm of possibility. Shockwave could do it. But then, he's Shockwave. You... it is less certain."

Windshear sneers slightly as he glances out of a viewport window. "Im here aren't I, sir?" but that’s not the only reason why he’s got a mad at the universe attitude right.

Marauder, now freed from his restraints, rises. He bends a knee, leans forward, his massive bulk coming better into view. With his design, he suddenly provides shade beneath his feet. Then he seems to lift off, moving forward, springing out of the bed, and to his feet beside it. When his feet hit the floor, it makes no sound, almost as if he had some kind of rubber padding beneath to soften and muffle the sound that would no doubt be produced by such a large Decepticon. "Alas, I am no Shockwave, not yet. I am merely Marauder, and I am, so long as Galvatron assents, at your service, my lord." He bows to Cyclonus.

Cyclonus frowns at Windshear. "But not in spirit." He glances back at Marauder, seeming to approve somewhat of his demeanor. "Hm. Save your bows for Galvatron, he is the one to whom you owe them. I am but his humble servant. But regardless, so long as you are faithful and *useful* to Galvatron, I'm certain he will retain you."

Cindersaur is on his way down to the armoury to play...

Windshear shifts his gaze from the window to Cyclonus and studies him for a moment. He doesn't say anything, just works on his enercig quietly.

Now that he is alert and free of his restraints, Marauder takes a moment to study the room he is in, “This facility is unknown to me.” As it should, seeing as it was built less than a year ago. Judging by the colour scheme he turns towards Snaptrap, “I imagine this belongs to you?” He takes a few steps forward, noting the exits, those present, and suddenly a display catches his gaze. Walking towards it, he peers, “Interesting hobby.” He is of course referring to the alien ant farm.

Slugfest peers down at Hinder. "All clean now!" he says.

Hinder oh’s, turning a quick circle to look at herself. "Don't feel any cleaner."

Slugfest hms. "You should prolly go in now when transformed. Get cleaner."

Cyclonus looks off to the side, then declares, "Well. If there is no further business with me... I have other responsibilities to tend to." He turns and makes his way to the exit.

Hinder oh’s at Slugfest, then looks up at Cyclonus as he passes by them.

Several moments later, Cyclonus can be heard yelling, "Get OUT of there, fool! Do you want the entire place to go up?"

Windshear freezes as he hears Cyclonus yell. The potential situation if this place 'went up' and he in it is not something he wants to think about. "How long am I supposed to be here anyway?" he calls out after Cyclonus.

There's a loud roar, before flames go shooting down the hallway

Windshear vents air through his intakes as his wings shutter annoyingly. "That’s just... great." he mutters as he glances back out of the viewport.

A few moments pass, before an 'Uh-huh' is heard. However, it seems to work, as Cindersaur comes stomping down the hall in monster, flame spilling from his mouth. He turns, yells, "You're no FUN!", a gout of flame spills down the hallway

Cindersar transforms, the various components of his frame contorting, becoming the constituent components of his alt mode, with the mechanical adopting an organic mein.

Snaptrap nods at Marauder, scanning the room himself now that it has had attention brought to it. "Yes. This is mine." The Seacon stresses that last word, but in a subtle fashion. Regarding the ant farm afterward, Snaptrap slightly grumbles. He unfolds his arms and steps to stand behind Marauder, looking at the insects crawling around within the display now. "Decepticon science," is all he offers, as if it were an admonition of some kind.

Monster grumbles, stomping into the room in monster mode, still leaking flames from his mouth, "Cyc is big meanie..." Of course, here's a con that’s best skill is setting fires and destroying stuff... and he's in a confined space

Windshear looks at Cindersaur and walks out and down the hall. He’s got a specific place in mind he’s headed and since he has no idea how long he’s going to be here or why or what for he might as well make some use of the time.

Slugfest pipes up, "Why so warm in her all of sudden?"

Marauder glances towards the corridor, and suggests, “You may wish to deal with them,” referring of course to Cindersaur and friends, “before they melt your precious undersea base.” Though he shows little concern, instead taping on the glass to the alien ant farm, watching as one of the ants takes on three other ants, and defeats them in Insecticon-like battle.

Snaptrap rumbles out a growl after Marauder. Clearly, he is treading onto highly contentious territory, and has seriously perturbed the Seacon. He leans forward so that Marauder can clearly see his cold visage in the reflection of the display glass. "Your suggestion is not necessary." Rising up afterwards, Snaptrap turns and strides towards the exit, nearer now to Cindersaur. As he does so, he continues, "And now that you are repaired, you can get out of my 'precious' base." He stands now at the doorway to make a point, waiting for Marauder to leave. "After you," he exhales through his face mask with a dark rasp.

Monster looks at Marauder, and Snaptrap, and in a display of not understanding 'tact', says, "Snaptrap, I can melt Marauder..."

Marauder raises an optic, finding this reaction highly unusual. He takes another look around, having grown to like this place after having existed in a confined space for nigh on three decades. He steps forward, heading towards the door, which Snaptrap seems intent on letting him on the aft, if such a thing were possible from a sliding door. He says calmly, "Then I shall thank you for your hospitality, Field Commander, and be on my way." Smirking softly at the firecon’s offer, he adds, “I do not think that the Field Commander would appreciate my melted carcass becoming welded to this facility.”

"Duly noted," Snaptrap flatly replies. He turns and looks down at Cindersaur, but before he can respond, Marauder interjects and Snaptrap returns to his original position. "No, I wouldn't," he affirms. After Marauder passes through the door frame, Snaptrap turns and bends at the waist, stabbing a clawed finger at Cindersaur as he rails against him verbally, much like a human would scold a misbehaving canine. "And now you! Pay attention to what you are doing! This installation is extremely sensitive! If you cause ANY damage to this facility, it will be repaired with sections taken out of your own chassis!" And with that, the door way leading into the infirmary hisses open, and the Seacon Commander storms out.