Quibbles

Repair Facility

Upon entering through the large doorway, it is noticeable that the Debris Medical Facility is not as nice or as large as Autobot City's or Iahex's. On the far wall are numerous operating tables lined up with various tools used for such procedures. In between the entrance and that wall are medical personnel, either repairing the wounded or patiently awaiting another rush of allies in need of their skills. Several cabinets line the eastern wall for storage, mainly used to contain the small internal components necessary in Cybertronian repair. Overhead is a large scrolling screen with the words: Quiet Please...Quiet Please. On the western wall is a decent sized machine that is actually part of the wall, used to dispense and color any factory standard part a wounded Autobot would require.

Contents:

First Aid

Spare Part Machine

Swerve

Obvious exits: Large Doorway &lt;E&gt; leads to Debris Main Lobby.

Grimlock has arrived.

A repair facility ... built by the Wreckers. Such a conundrum does indeed exist, although the resident Doctor is having himself a pain going through the mess that it was left in. "Such eloquent warriors, yet when it comes to paperwork and organization ... they fail on so many levels." First Aid muses to himself, going through a box of spare parts. Loading the machine in the room, the Protectobot finally notices the detective laying upon a slab. "Oh my, must have missed you there. Let's see what the damage is, shall we?" he asks Nightbeat, not expecting any sort of verbal reply.

Combat: First Aid runs a diagnostic check on Nightbeat

Grimlock staggers into the medical bay, still grumbling and growling beneath his breath. (Or what would be his breath, were he not a robot). Looks like the dinocommander's been put through the wringer- his armor is scorched and battered- not to mention the large bit of slagged armor on his torso- though it doesn't bear the marking of a Galvagannoning- Grimlock would know!

Nightbeat is unconscious and a twisted mess of metal. He's missing his bumper (and license plate), his knees, and one of his arms. Nearby, Muzzle is hooked up to a small life-support machine. It seems one won't wake until both can, a mystery of binary bond. Fusillade and Boomslang did a whole calculator's worth of numbers on the detective, mostly explosive damage, with some butchering thrown in for good measure. Swamp muck clings to his frame, indicating where he fell. Nightbeat is lucky he was rescued at all.

&lt;Autobot&gt; Jetfire says, "I hate to say it, but I think that's the best we can do here guys. At least we caused them some considerable damage."

First Aid begins to pour over the broken frame, first cleaning the affected areas before assessing any structural damage. The Protectobot sprays Nightbeat down with a pressure washer, trying to keep the 'splatter' to a minimum. "Well now, this will be interesting. I've never quite understood the mystical bond between Nebulan and machine ... it's probably time to learn!" he smiles, tucking away the medical scanner and coiling the washer cord. "Hrm, let's see. Muzzle recieved minor injuries when compared to our dear detective, perhaps I should start with his life support systems before replacing any parts."

Unbeknowest to First Aid, Grimlock comes stomping into the Medical Facility.

Combat: First Aid expertly repairs Nightbeat's injuries.

&lt;Autobot&gt; Scattershot snarls, "I'd say they still have some fight left in 'em."

Grimlock hnnns, and tromps on over- stiffly, on account of the severe beating he's taken. Still, he looks over the battered from of Nightbeat, and gives a grunt. "Hn. Him Detective-guy get beat up lots." he rumbles.

&lt;Autobot&gt; Jetfire gaaahs! "Shockwave's shooting at me, I can't waylay Redshift under fire, I'm just too big of a target out here."

&lt;Autobot&gt; Rodimus Prime says, "No. While I don't mind sacrificing all these drones, we're taking too many losses among the troops as well. Time to withdraw and plan for another day."

"Oh my stars and garters, Grimlock!" First Aid lets out, startled by the sudden emergence of the Dinobot Commander. "Please, announce your entrance well beforehand. You almost made me sever a connection!" he grumbles, finalizing Nightbeat's most basic repair and thus bringing him online. "There we are, how do we feel detective?"

&lt;Autobot&gt; Jetfire says, "Copy that. Do you need a lift out again, Rodimus?"

Muzzle awakens easily enough, under the good doctor's ministrations. He just suffered some concussive injuries from Nightbeat's head being repeatedly knocked off his shoulders, and the moment that Muzzle awakens, Nightbeat also awakens, optical band flickering on. The detective groans, "Ooooaaargh," and he kind of wishes he was still in the black. Life hurts.

&lt;Autobot&gt; Rodimus Prime says, "I could use one y-yaaargh!"

"Detective? Him more like DEFECTIVE. Haw haw haw!" Grimlock, despite the abuse he's been through, can still make horrible jokes at other's expense. "Hnnngh." he say, and then settles down to sit on a nearby med table. "Me Grimlock fighted him Scorponok. Whut you excuse?" he says to Nightbeat, should the poor gumshoe be paying attention.

Nightbeat is always paying attention. Always. He regrets it, a lot of the time. He sulks, "It was a dame. It's always a dame. You just can't trust skirts, and... oh slag. Doc, my license plate's been stolen! I gotta report that!" He reaches his one remaining arm over at First Aid, trying to tug the Protectobot's elbow.

"Well, your analysis is a bit premature ... don't you think?" First Aid snaps at Grimlock, giving him a quick once over. "My my my, haven't either of you read up on my latest pamphlet?" he muses, shoving each 'patient' one entitled: Plasma Scorching and You.

"Please, remain relaxed Nightbeat. While I should have replaced your limbs earlier while you were unconcious, I was unsure that Muzzle could spare the time to wait." the Protectobot cautions, meandering over towards the Spare Part Machine and hitting a series of buttons.

First Aid nods at their words, not paying much attention. "Hrm, I see. All the while, one cannot be too cautious ... can they? Oh wait, forgot about Red Alert. Okay, so you can be too cautious ... uhh, nevermind." he rambles on, selecting the desired parts from the machine.

First Aid selects a Arm, Knees, and Bumper from the Spare Part Machine's control display.

The machine whirrs and ejects a Arm, Knees, and Bumper that is fashionably Blue!

Grimlock hnf. "Maybe you Nightbeat need get more armor instead of little man who turn into you head."

&lt;Autobot&gt; Jetfire says, "Hang on Rodimus, I expect this to be a bit of a bumpy exit!"

&lt;Autobot&gt; Rodimus Prime says, "Nggh. Understood."

&lt;Autobot&gt; Jetfire says, "As much as I would of liked to return the favor for Iahex, at least we succeeded in hindering their position. Ideally they will have to withdraw resources from their other holdings in order to reconsolidate their fortress. Prehaps our other forces can sieze back other territories in the meantime."

Vince Larsen has arrived.

Muzzle protests, "Nightbeat would be dead without me!" He means that entirely literally. The detective emits from the speaker in his chest, "More armour? Eh, that's an idea for another day, Grimlock, my boyo. I do, however, have a lil' something I'd like installed, and the Protectobots are pretty famous for their photon pistols, I will note." Muzzle's ravaged expression turns a bit sly.

"Hnn. So you want be Protecty-bot then? Hnf. Maybe you turn into Defensor hat or something." Grimlock leans back a bit, his battered joints creaking with the movement. "Better than you being Dinobot! You no strong 'nuff for be one."

&lt;Autobot&gt; Jetfire grrr. "She shot out one of my engines. Good thing I wore the scramjets after all."

"That we are, I take it you seek an upgrade to your primary weapons systems Muzzle?" First Aid replies, turning to face the Nebulon. While not entirely comfortable with their involvement in this conflict, the Protectobot is intrigued by them all the same. "Grimlock, did you require anything ... or were you merely showing off your battle scars after your triumphant fight with Scorponok?"

Jetfire has arrived.

Grimlock gives a grunt at Firt Aid. "Hnnf. Not quite triumphy. Me Grimlock do SCOUTING MISSION...then...me fight him Scorponok. Then me Grimlock decide it not worth fightings." He neglects to mention the part where he LOST said fight, but that's ok.

It's been a busy day. First doing some defense construction, and then airdropping a raid into Darkmount. But Jetfire will take being busy and useful any day of the week. Come to think of it, he considers as he trudges into the repair bay of the hidden Wrecker lair-turned-Autobot-resistance-base, it'll probably be a busy night too.

Already looks like it by the number of faces present.

"Oh, well where are -my- manners! One moment Muzzle, I'll be with you shortly." First Aid sarcastically puts, moving over towards the Dinobot Commander with an arc welder. "Please, try to relax while I go about fixing all these divets." he laughs, going to work on Grimlock. A little banging here with a hammer, some solvent there, and he's good as new!

"You know, none of the other scouts come in looking this bad."

Combat: First Aid expertly repairs Grimlock's injuries.

Combat: First Aid is able to repair some of Grimlock's internal systems damage.

Nightbeat thinks he'd swallow his plasma blaster sooner than he'd audition to be a Dinobot. They're much too noisy! He growls, "No, Streetwise is the Protectobot detective. I just need some Pandoran superconductors and a Monacusian paparazzi flash installed into my photon pistols to put a few more sticks up my sleeve. See, strictly non-lethal additions." Nightbeat is missing an arm, his bumper, and his knees. Also his head. Muzzle is off on a table of his own. Nightbeat talks through a secondary speaker in his chest, when Muzzle doesn't just talk himself. He says flatly, "Jetfire. That bad, eh?"

Vince Larsen had only just recently returned from properly setting up the makeshift cannons he and Jetfire had designed earlier, and decided to stop in the repair bay here, and see if he could get some more instruction in Cybertronian technology. And, from the looks of things as he surveys the somewhat crowded room, he might just be in luck. Walking in, he makes sure he steps off to the side before he gets trampled by the Autobots who probably have no idea he's there, he grins. "Hey guys, how's it going?"

Grimlock grunts a bit, and then flexes a restored arm, nodding approvingly to First Aid. "Uuuuh. That 'cuz them OTHER Scouts no am me Grimlock." he rumbles. "Me Grimlock so great." this said, Grim looks over at Jetfire and hnfs. "Us no win in city?"

"Indeed." First Aid bluntly replies, swiftly moving back to Muzzle and Nightbeat. "While I -usually- don't condone this sort of thing, the applications of the weapon will prevent further damage from being sustained by your host and yourself. I must, however, preach the caution of said use of weapon and it's multitude of effects. If you'd kindly agree to use the utmost discretion and hand over the pistol, I'll get to work on it immediately."

Jetfire pulls off his battle helmet and stows it in subspace, then shakes his head a bit to the Dinobot. "No, we didn't take Darkmount. We did cause a considerable amount of damage to it though. Hopefully they will pull back resources to reinforce their headquarters, leaving more of the other territories vulnerable again. So not a complete victory, but it's still a considerable tactical gain." He winces a little as the foot that got shot (being one of his engines in that leg from his vehicle mode) sparks and smokes a bit, and settles down on one of the tables meant for larger people like him. Well, probably meant for Broadside, but same difference. "Busy night already, huh, First Aid? Give me a moment to catch up and I can lend a hand."

His expression brightens a little again when he sees Vince walk in though. "Sorry I had to take off so quickly afterwards, Vince. How'd the second turret test out?"

Grimlock hmms, and looks between Nightbeat and First Aid. "Oooh! Me know! Me Grimlock say you need get gun with sword on it! Or...sword with gun on it! Or, uh...somethings."

Nightbeat uses his one good arm to pull out a small box that contains the Monacusian paparazzi flash and the Pandoran superconductors. He sets it down next to him. Then, he pulls out his two last photon pistols and sets them on top of the box. He went through a lot of spare guns in that fight! People kept shooting his guns out of his hands, and they got lost in the swamp. Nightbeat doesn't seem enturely enthused by First Aid's cautioning, but pacifist or not, the Proectobots all know their way around blinding people, and Nightbeat sure wishes he wasn't shot so often. He deadpans, "Grimlock, somehow, I don't First Aid would help me with a bayonet."

Grimlock says, "Not bayonet, SWORD. Is better."

"It's definition matters little Grimlock, they are both the same in my optics." First Aid replies, taking the parts and dropping them on a slab nearby. "Oh Jetfire, greetings. I do require a 'hand' when you have a spare moment, would you mind reconnecting Nightbeat's appendages while I take a gander at his weaponry?"

Looking up, up, up at Jetfire, Vince grins and shrugs. "No worries, you guys were doing some serious fighting, I hear." Chuckling at the question about the second 'cannon', his grin widens. "Oh, went beautifully. My math skills didn't fail me, when I did the calculations for placement. We've got ourselves some really nice coverage with those things. And with First Aid's bunkers in place, I don't think the Decepticons will even make it a quarter of the way into that area before they have to pull back." Looking up at Nightbeat and Grimlock at their mention of swords and guns, he pauses a moment, considering something, then smiles. "Hey, that could work! A sword with a gun on it. Would take a lot of work to get it properly balanced, but it could work!" And Vince seems to be in a mood to show off his 'other' skills, outside of an exo. Walking over to watch First Aid work, he pipes up. "I'd love to help, but I don't think I know enough about you guys to be of any real use yet. Mind if I watch, and learn a few more things?"

"Certainly, First Aid, I can do that." Jetfire fiddles with his foot for a moment, much akin to a human having to shake pebbles out of their shoe really, and finally manages to rattle a couple of the shell casings that were annoying him free. That'll do for now. He puts the panel back on and walks over to Nightbeat's bedside to look him over, paying little heed to his own comparitively minor injuries. "Missing limbs.. accursed Decepticons and their insistance on taking trophies."

Grimlock hnnn. "Fiiine. Still, me Grimlock think EVERYONE need swords n stuff!" and with that, Grimlock gets back to his feet, "Me Grimlock get outt ahere, though. It borings in here!" and off he goes!

Combat: Jetfire runs a diagnostic check on Nightbeat

Grimlock vanishes out of reality.

Grimlock has left.

A bayonet is totally just a sword attached to a gun, but Nightbeat doesn't say that. He also does not break Vince's heart by pointing out that even humans have managed bayonets for ages, now. Nightbeat squints at Jetfire, and he says coolly, testing the waters, "Fusillade butchered me up. I see spectral indications it was her and her weaponry that removed my missing pieces. The blasted woman has my license plate!" He seems really furious about the plate, even more so than the knees, arm, and bumper.

Jetfire's frown deepens at the mention of Fusillade, confirming his own hunch from analyzing the visible damages. That femme was a reconizable style, to say the least. "The cuts to remove your 'knees' corrispond with her bladed weaponry, likely done after you were already disabled," he replies. "It's not the first time she's done it. It's a disturbingly macabre practice several Decepticons engage in." He had his own chestplate ripped off by her once. Probably thought it was -flirting- with him. Turning his attention away, he starts gathering up the parts and tools to make Nightbeat's repairs. Arm infrastructure.. servo controls... energon lines... exterior plating...

First Aid is busily at work trying to make sense of the materials given to him, afterall ... he's a medic, not a weapons engineer! "Oh Vince, why you're always welcome to study our technological know how. Please though, make yourself useful and drag that arc welder over here?"

There is a paparazzi flash, guaranteed to blind and dazzle the richest starlets and make them ripe for even more embarrassing photos. There are also Pandoran superconductors, which carry current with no loss to resistance at room temperature, thereby improving the efficiency of any mechanism. Then there are Nightbeat's photon pistols, which unlike Protectobot photon pistols, are just a pair of shooty light guns. Add in the flash, though, and they might be! Nightbeat waves his good hand. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sickos, the lot of 'em. I just hope she doesn't rack up any tickets in my name..."

A bayonet is a /knife/ attached to a gun. Granted, it's a long knife, but a long knife is a far cry from a sword. But Vince has already moved along, filing that project away for a later time, as he watches Jetfire move to begin work on Nightbeat. Looking at First Aid, he grins and then turns to the indicated arc welder and nods, moving to retrieve the thing. Maybe he should go and get his exo? Hehe. "Yeah, sure thing." When Fusillade is mentioned, Vince visible winces, remembering the pain that one inflicted on him.....He should be dead right now, thanks to that Decepticon, but the human is a lot tougher than he looks.

".. I think it would be a wee bit hard for a jet to wear a license plate and pass for a car," Jetfire replies as he punchs up Nightbeat's on-file schematics from a medical terminal goes to work on rebuilding a new arm, starting with the infrastructure 'bones' and working the way out from there. "Can't you just report it missing and get a new set?" The use of such 'vanity' plates is really beyong the airbot, but that several Autobots seem to take interest in them for the sake of standing out is amusing. "By the sound of the parts he wants to turn his photon pistol into a optical blind effect," he comments over his shoulder to First Aid and Vince, though possibly repeating part of the conversation he missed earlier. "The superconductors are so it doesn't overdrain the power supply, I would imagine."

First Aid turns the flash over in his hand, one of the only objects that seems familiar to the Autobot. Seizing the pistol in the other hand, the Protectobot goes about taking the weapon apart to integrate the parts. "This may take a bit, but only to streamline the pistol. I could just throw these together in random haphazard fashion, but that would hardly be ideal." he muses to Nightbeat, unscrewing the gun's casing.

A bayonet (from French baionnette) is a knife-, dagger-, SWORD-, or spike-shaped weapon designed to fit on, over or underneath the muzzle of a rifle barrel or similar weapon, effectively turning the gun into a spear. See also the sword bayonet, which is any long, knife-bladed bayonet designed for mounting on a musket or rifle.

Nightbeat shrugs, then winces - shrugging hurts! He sighs and grumbles, "Guess I'll have to, Jetfire. - and hey, you're the Doc, Doc. It sure didn't work when I tried to jam it in my arm. Ask Blurr."

Vince Larsen has disconnected.

Jetfire assembles the servo drives in the joints, and then works on wiring the control neural interfaces and fuel lines into the assembly. Tests it a few times, making the hand open and squeeze shut. Satisfied with that, he goes to work with a welder and bolt driver to attach the exterior framework and armor to the arm. And then it will be ready to reattach to Nightbeat himself. "Shouldn't take much longer."

Having integrated the flash into the main weapon, with as little surface space raising as possible; the Protectobot goes about installing the installing the superconductors in the butt of the pistol. Wrapping around the stock/handle, the coils end towards the top of the weapon. "While it won't be the most fashionably designed weapon pulled out in a fight, it should none the less ... serve it's purpose."

Nightbeat doesn't give a flip about looks, despite being a European sports car. If it works, that's all he needs. He looks up at Jetfire and over at First Aid, "I'm muchly oblidged. You gents do a bang-up job of, well, fixing my bang-ups."

"That's what we're here for. This may sting a bit," Jetfire warns, giving Nightbeat a moment before he pushes the newly built arm into the shoulder joint and getting all the control points reconnected. "There you go. It still needs to be painted to match, but that's not all that hard to do." Now to take care of those knee/bumpers. But that's a comparitively simple task.

First Aid finishes up the installation, screwing together the last piece of the pistol's casing. "Now it won't be a one hundred percent replica of our tech, but it should suffice in the area of it's expertise. Please though, be careful." he preaches, handing the weapon over. "With great power, comes great responsibility."

Jetfire meanwhile gets to work on replacing the missing bumper-knees. Which isn't really all that hard, compared to rebuilding an arm from scratch and only takes a few more minutes to do. Alas, he can't replace the license plate. Then again, while on Cybertron it's not really a necessity either, though. "There you go Nightbeat." He grunts softly at the somewhat... overeagerness on the part of the detective, but keeps to himself.

Nightbeat is indeed very excited by his new toys! But the excitement is a bit much for him, given his injuries. He quickly lapses into a shutdown cycle, to rest and recuperate.