Kathunk Kathunk!

NCC Medical Ward

''Like its previous incarnation, this medical ward was designed with the medic in mind, with all the modern advances to make the dirty work of repairs a world easier. It is well lit, the blue and violet metal of the walls and decor is a shade paler here, and the ubiquitous filigree is missing, all to assist in ease of cleaning. Still, the place veritably sparkles. In the furniture, there is a subtle motif of blades and sharp edges, as if to evoke the scalpel of a surgeon, although it is all quite safe. Around two dozen beds, more comfortable than their sharp looks would suggest, fill the medical ward, laid out in a tidy grid, and more can be flipped out of the walls should emergency demand it. A set of tracks on the ceiling mirror the grid of beds, allowing advanced scanning equipment and tolls to be swiveled around to the various beds. Computer terminals and cabinets are molded right into the walls at intervals, and while there are the normal medical security cameras, it appears as if someone has set some of the cameras specifically to watch the cabinets.''

Patience is a virtue. When it comes the chaos of combat, it means being able to wait out for the most effective oppritunity to put your enemy down with a shot. When it comes to Decepticon SCIENCE!.... it means being able to wait for a scientist whom one can reasonably trust to not do something exceptionally weird in the process. Usually.

Either way, Blast Off had plenty of the latter notion. Sitting and waiting, he had no intention on letting one of the lowly interns or such do what he wanted done. He had standards, after all.

"You! What are you doing here, Combaticon?" And in walks Cackle! "You better not be here on some scheme of Swindle's! I swear, stick a combination cog on a mechanoid, and they're suddenly a CONSPIRACY." she hmms, and takes a moment to ready herself, almost arching up like a wary cat. "Explain yourself, or, I'll...uh...do something! I'll tell Scrapper!"

... And at some point, even the most patient decide there's such a thing as waiting too long.

At her outburst Blast Off looks up to the femme, eyeing her over for a moment. "No, I am not, nor do I even know where Swindle -is-. Why does everyone assume I am his keeper?", he grumbles as he gets up. "But no, I am here because I have a rather.. intricate and important job I need done." He picks up the case that was sitting on the counter next to him, and opens it to reveal the elaborate sensor and assorted other electronic circiuts and such in it. "This is the enhanced targetting and threat analysis device we stole from the testing facility a few solar cycles back. I wish to have it installed so I can approprately use the full suite of my advanced rangefinding and targetting systems in robot mode as well as shuttlecraft."

Cackle glances from Blast Off's box to the shuttlebot himself. "..Hm." she says, and then nearly pounces on the device. "I honestly cannot see the standard obsesssion our comerades have with inferior technology- then again, I suppose it -is- expedient to steal it in certain cases...still! It COULD be integrated into a Cybertonian's systems...with some trial and error."

The door to the repair bay opens suddenly with Windshear hanging onto it and the door way. Much damage that can only be described as; Dinobot...and well, mixed with some Wrecker too but whos counting. Without a word the Seeker gathers what strength hes got left and attampts to make it to the closest table under his own power. "Slagging... Dino..bot.." he mutters, "Dirge and.. his.. humans.. slag them..."

Blast Off lets her take the case to inspect the hardware, and settles back on the medslab he'd been sitting on before. "Because it would be better for it to be put to use in a proper soldier instead of waddled away on some inferior piece of human weaponry... And certainly one of our exceptional technical officers can make the appropriate modifications to improve upon the design as necessary, hmm?" He was laying it on a bit thick, yes, but he could stroke egos other than his own.

He does pause in doing so to look up as the slagged Seeker comes staggering in. ".. Picking fights again, Windshear?"

Cackle neatly ignores Windshear. Repairs are one thing, but SCIENCE!(tm) is another! Hmm. She pokes around the device for a few moments- and then she wheels towards Blast Off, a maniacal glint in her optics. "Hold still!" she says- and then, grabbing the device from the table, she settles it into the center of his chest...and her other hand has...what would appear to be a stapler.
 * KATHUNK. KATHUNK.

Windshear eases back on his table and is still for a moment as he regains his composure so to speak, "No," he whispers finally, "Dirge ordered something.... was doing fine till Sludge....showed up.."

"Dinobots do that," Blast Off replies, somewhat dully. "Butt in where they don't belong and ruin the fu--Gah!" He yelps in surprise as the scientist pounces on him, thudding against the wall behind the table as she shoves the device to his chest and *THUNK THUNK THUNK* "Gaah! Careful with that," the space-sniper hisses between barely restrained pained tones, Even if it's less advanced that straight Cybertronian technology it is a delicate piece of hardware that great lengths were taken to aquire it." Leave it to Blast Off to be excessively verbose even while getting painfully staple-guned. "One does not endure the blithering rambles of Rodimus Prime for just anything."

"Rodimus Prime? They're still on that one?" Cackle says, briefly scratching at her helmet. Still, she glances up at Blast Off. "Oh, do not fuss, This is a temporary measure! Now hold still, I have a laser." And she does, too! She flicks out a laser-scalpel, and neatly cuts out an opening in the Combaticon's armor, so as to get at the juicy bits beneath! "Say, this looks like Starscream's work." she muses.

Windshear looks over at Blast Off and frowns, "That hurt? Really?" So asks the mech whos dented, shredded, leaking and sparking. Yes sometimes you can tell Windys in pain by the tone of his voice but its such a rarety that he ever vocolaizes his pain that its just not heard, seriously. And he cant understand sometimes when others do.

About the only reason you don't -see- pain is from the fact that Blast Off's face is designed specifically to not show emotion with it's mouthplate and mostly non-expressive visor. Not hearing it, is another matter, as he hisses again when the laser is brought out, and he's reminded that Decepticon medics tend to skip on the anthesetics. "Some of us are designed to avoid injury, not soak it like a sponge," he manages to reply to Windshear.

And the mostly unexpressive part comes into place, as said visor dims just enough to be taken as 'narrowing' one's gaze. "Don't remind me," he remarks coolly in response to Cackle's comment about Starscream's work.

The medbay doors open with a hiss, and they almost seem as they're trying to get out of the way of the being passing through them. Soundwave strides into the med bay, and heads right for the repair area, not looking so much in a hurry, as looking for something. He looks about the bay with a precise turn of his head, before coming back to Cackle and her patients. "Cackle. Damage report." he says, in a crisp, direct, and wholly unsettling tone.

Cackle briefly glances over at Windshear- and then to Blast Off. "If we killed him to stop his whining, would anyone notice? He's not part of a combiner, is he?" and she shrugs- and then gets back to work- fiddling around with Blast Off's insides, muttering little notes to herself- at least, 'til Soundwave startles her. "Oh! Commander Soundwave! I'm performing maintenance on unit Blast Off and considering murdering unit...uh, whoever that is!" she points at Windshear.

Windshear nods at Blast Offs comment, "Yea guess Im just made to take it.." he says smugly then gives Cackle a glare, "Whining? Better think again femme...." his optics flare a bit as she makes her other comment. Then slowly he sits up ignoring a fresh flare of sparks from his midsection. "Is that a promise?" he sneers when she mentions considering killing him.

"Cackle, familiarize yourself with the roster. Failure to memorize the names of your Decepticon comrades is a sign of disloyalty." without waiting for anyoen to respond, he walks briskly over to an empty console, and sits down. A Decepticon logo flashes, and a roster is shown. He spins the chair around to face them, stopping a moment later.

Blast Off does the best to zone out what he can, but when she's right there mucking around with components in his chest it's hard to ignore. At least the conversation gives him something to partially focus on otherwise. "He is not... but unlike some Seekers," he doesn't need to fake the coughing sound thanks to Cackle's work, while inserting a quick "Backfire" between the hacks, then resuming the comment like it was nothing, "Windshear is at least a reasonable capable combatant, even if he does get battered apart in the process regularely."

When Soundwave walks in, he does his best to resume his usual indifference.. only to totally fail that when he twitchs and winces when she sparks a wire somewhere inside. The creepy communications officer is probably enjoying it, too.

Cackle pauses. "Memorization is a matter of loyalty?" she says, sounding (justifiably) baffled. Still! There's SCIENCE!(tm) to be done- and Blast Off will soon feel probing fingers mucking around his circuitry! "Patching this into your visual systems- let me know if you suddenly go blind." *FFZT!*


 * FZZZT* Why is it when a medic warns you of something like that, it's -too late- to actually do any good? Blast Off hisses softly again, but he's biting his non-exsistant tongue in order to finally get this done. He was tired of waiting for Hook or Scrapper to stop obsessing over turning Iacon into an evil casino to come do it. "Not entirely... but there's extensive interference and photo-receptors are down to minimal capacity," he replies dully.

Soundwave stands up from his chair with a start. "As of now, I am requiring formal reports of all instances of conflict within the ranks. These will be compiled into regular efficiency reports. You are expected to transmit your report to central command by the next astrocycle. There will be no exceptions. Is this understood?" he says, looking about at the damaged Decepticons. "Also expected is a full report on repairs and usage of consumables, Cackle."

The medical bay doors open and ... no one enters. Well, no one of normal Cybertronian height anyway. After a moment, a telltale shuffling sound heralds Hinder's arrival. She pauses just inside the door as if uncertain of actually entering a room in this manner.

Cackle, currently wrist-deep in Blast Off's innards, spares a glance over at Soundwave. "Oh! Uh, of course, Commander Soundwave! I, uh. I'll file a report on how unit...whoever that is," a nod towards windshear, "-is apparently best used as a bullet shield!" she nods- and then looks back at Blast Off. "How many fingers am I holding up?" she asks- even as both her hands fiddle with wiring and circuitry, rewiring systems as needed! Maybe the question was just a formality.

And following the Hinder, is the Slugfest. The little dino cassette shuffles in due to his short short legs. It's amazing though, the little guy can really get going once he's started running. He looks over at Hinder. "It ok. You come in." Windshear watches Cackle resume her 'work' on Blast Off after a moment studying him he looks at Soundwave. "Understood, sir," he says as he slowly lays back down, unaware the door opened ot the medbay and no one seemingly walked in.

"As *grunt* you wish, Soundwave," Blast Off manages to rasp out, fingers tighening on the edge of his table. Hard to tell if its from trying to subdue the pain.. or subdue the urge to want to strangle the medic working on him. But it'd be really foolish to stop her from finishing at this point, so he bides his time and just tries to endure the best he can. "Both your hands are -inside- me," he notes to her, hissing sharply. "I can't -see- but I can still -feel-."

Ok thats it! She called him WHOEVER THAT Is AGAIN! Windshear through more determination then anythign else, slowly sits up, swings his legs off the table, gets to his feet and walks over to Cackle. Once there he gets in her space literally and sneers as wickedly as he can (and thats pretty wicked) "The names /Windshear/...I suggest you remember it."

"Oh, good. That's a start. How about now?" Cackle says- and then *clicks!* two wires together within Blast Off's chest!

And then, Windshear's sneering at her. Cackle blinks her optics- once, twice...and then, with her hands still busy, she just takes a step to the side- all the better for her shoulder-mounted cannons to *KA CHUNK!* into place- aiming right at the battered Seeker!

"Uh, Commander Soundwave? Can I preemptively file a report on how unit Windshear has forced me to unleash the mighty power of my QUAD LASER within the confines of the medbay?"

Windshear smirks an eery and familar smirk and spreads his hands out. "Bring it.. but makes sure your hit puts me offline cause if it doesnt... its my turn then and you might not like it..."

Blast Off bites back another wince as Cackle attatches the wires and his optical visor flickers a few times before lighting back up a bit more brightly. From his point of view it takes a few minutes before his HUD reboots, and the edges of his vision are filled with the bits of data and analysis previously only seen across his cockpit screens in shuttle mode. ".. Despite the... diversions, you seem to have it hooked up effectively, Cackle."

And then the two of them are having a Mexican Staredown in middle of the medbay. Oh for the love of. "There's enough getting scrapped on the battlefield. Can we NOT have it happening in the medbay as well?", he rumbles in annoyance.

Windshear huffs, "She started it--"

"For the record, -I- didn't start anything! It's not my fault that an idiotic foot soldier- er, wing-soldier, or whatever, has barged in here making unreasonable demands when I am OBVIOUSLY busy on SUPERIOR projects!" and with that, Cackle starts fiddling around- turning Blast Off's chest plate around so the stapled-on guidance system is on his INSIDES, now. She dusts her hands off proudly. "There! Now Blast Off shall be able to destroy Autobots up to 63 percent more efficiently!"

Windshear blinks in total indignation and then his damaged voice synth takes on a rather scratchy pitch of total lividness, "I -- I never said a word! I never made demands on anything. THATS WHATS GOT ME SO MAD!!!"

"SILENCE." Soundwave says, loud enough to halt anyone's thoughts. "There will be no conflict here. Further aggression witness to will result in the participants being sent to the training area for individual combat." he continues looking at the roster. "Additionally, as of now, you three are all docked five percent of your energy ration for the astrocycle."

Cackle blinks her optics again at Soundwave as he makes his proclaimation. "Uh, understood, commander Soundwave." she murmurs, cannons flicking back into place. "I'll...I'll just be going now." she says in a small voice- and then transoforms, zipping out on four wheels! Cackle transforms into vehicle mode!

Blast Off grunts a bit as the chest piece is shoved into place. "Thanks, Cackle. Even if your methods were... unexpected." Then stops and just peers across the bay for a moment. He didn't eve -do- anything! ... But seeing the master of monotones is in bad enough of a mood to emphasize more forcefully than normal, he errors on the side of better judgement and just keeps his vocal apparatus shut.

Windshear tosses his hands in the air, causing a flare of sparks from his chest. He winces slightly but as silent as every he turns and goes back to his table, "Yes sir." he rasps to Soundwave and eases back onto the table mad, hurt, leaking, pissed, and now shot on energon for while. ... Besides, he can pawn off a spare pistol or something to get the missing allotment from Swindle, even if it's paying out the nosecone for it.

Dirge stalks into the medical bay, visage devoid of emotion. He appears to be suffering some minimal combat damage, and one of his missile launchers is empty.

Blast Off grunts as tapes migrate towards Soundwave as usual, and more damaged Seekers arrive. He turns and drops off the medtable he was on, rubbing his chestplate a bit as he started towards the door. "For a room of repairing this place is getting much too hostile. I'm going to my quarters since I'm not actually -damaged-."

Windshear just lays there fuming still over that femme repair tech. He doesnt pay much attention as Dirge walks in. But hes there if the Seeker wants to have those words with him because he left the fight. In the mood hes in right now, no telling how it will turn out.

Laserbeak is lazily deployed, and lands casually on Soundwave's shoulder. The cassette watches the other Decepticons with casual interest, and recording anything that would be of slight interest purely out of habit. Well, that, and amusement, well concealed behind his Amazingly Expressive Birdy Face, since, hey, he didn't even have to fight today. Win!

Hinder startles and cringes at Soundwave's vehemence, even though she's clear across the room and still in front of the doorway. Then the medic Cackle zooms past her and out of the repair bay, causing her to yip in surprise and jump sideways out of the way. Thankfully that puts her out of the heavily trafficked path in front of the doors, so that when Dirge arrives (Laserbeak wouldn't be all that much of a bother if he 'ran over' her. But Dirge? That'd hurt.) she's safely out of the way. She's still just silently spectating.

Slugfest too is a little startled by Soundwave's sudden announcement, and his tail wags from side to side rather rapidly. "What him mad about?" he asks Hinder.

And without farther words Blast Off is out the doors. Just in case more arguments break out... that and he doesn't really want to have to listen to Dirge be.. well... Dirge. Creepy bastard, that Seeker....