Bludgeon's Upgrade TP - Carjack does the deed

 Bludgeon speaks. His voice is crisp, and brief. "Carjack."

 Carjack | It takes a moment or two before the sound of hammering to stop. "Eh? Wha? Did I hear someone mention my name?"

 Bludgeon says, "Yes. I have what you required. I wish to begin immediatly."

 Carjack's mood brightens. "Oh, yes! That... I could use a respite from doing the CONSTRUCTICONS job on this city-ship. It's right in their name, why are they not here rebuilding it?!.. Err, anyways. At least the repair bay is still in one piece."

 Bludgeon says, "Very well. I will find a shuttle."

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.

With the state of work needed to it, it was little surprise that NCC's medbay was even more active than usual. Not only dealing with finally getting the lingering wounded from the evacuation cleared back to duty, but with the city-ship's own repairs, on top of preparing materials for the Hellbender -and- when Trypticon is relocated. Workers come and go at a steady pace, be it moving tools or retrieve materials. The organized chaos is thrown farther into a tizzy when Carjack storms into the room, punctuated by the blare of his sirens and lights -- they may be oddly placed by the still work in this mode -- and starts bellowing orders at assorted workers. "You, you, you; get that set of hardware I had in waiting. You, go make sure the crew in the shuttle bay is not slacking off in loading supplies for the 'Bender. And you." He practically shoves a lingering gumbie off a station. "You're good enough to get back to work, scram! I need this spot."

Bludgeon enters the medical bay with something like a neutral expression on his face. It really is the default for him as of late. Tucked beneath the samurai's right arm is what appears to be a stack of un-smelted metal rods, wrapped up in shipping bands. One might guess at least a couple of tons of them, judging by the size and thickness of them. He is currently making no attempt to conceal himself which is just as well as the rods make a noted banging sound as they are set on the table. "Will this be sufficient?" He asks, and nothing else.

"Oh, you have been busy. Excellent." Carjack cuts the bands off, spreading the rods across the table in a single layer so they don't roll about. Then picks one up, turning it over in his hands for a moment, then holds it up straight in front of him at an angle as he inspects it's straightness and forge quality. "Oh, this shall be more than sufficient. Exceptional choice, I would of had a hard time choosing better." He gives a wave towards the station he cleared off. "Have a seat and we'll get to work." Reaching into his internal compartment of tools he withdraws a cutting torch and sets about dividing the rods into appropriate lengths.

Bludgeon gives Carjack along, considering, searching sort of look. It's been a very long time since he had anything like a medical workover, modifications or anything of the sort. Centuries of self reliance have made him somewhat paranoid of medics in general and Carjack is no exception. Afterall, the other has demonstrated himself to be not entirely there on numerous occasions. But he sits, crossing his arms as he waits. "What is it that you have to do? I would have expected that the material would have required smelting into more usable shapes and sizes."

"If we were going to, say, forge a new set of armor? Yes." Carjack replies as he sets all but a few of the cut pieces aside. "But for this, rod shaped is actually quite convenient. Though a few of these do need to be made into brackets, but that won't take long." He's already walking over and sticking them into a machine that starts going through the process of softening the material, flattening it out, and cutting shape and holes as needed after he fiddles with the controls a bit. "Thankfully, our construction technology has advanced as much as warfare over the centuries. This will likely be a lot less long than you anticipated." While the device is working Carjack walks over to the station itself, punching up the controls to the terminal. It brings up the scans Carjack took previously, highlighting several points along Bludgeon's limbs, as well as a few in the back so his shoulders don't torque right off the joints. "Now just hold still." And doesn't really wait for a response before he starts removing the exterior armor from one of the robo-samurai's arms.

Bludgeon frowns at Carjack. It's a very brief thing and so is the twitch that comes from the arm that the medic begins to dissassemble external plate from. "Remember, you are not just to renforce the structure. The intent is to increase overall strength. How do you propose to accomplish this once the actuators have been made capable of it?" Beyond that little twitch, he stotically endures what the other has in mind.

Carjack merely chuckles a bit as he sets the removed pieces aside, and goes to the other arm. "One step at a time." There's also the legs and the back sections to take off. And while he's doing that, the workers that had run down to his workshop for him finally return carrying a few boxes of parts. "Fortunately you asked before this onrush of work started, so I had time to prepare the other hardware beforehand." The die cutting machine bleeps loudly that it's done in the background, one of the aids going to remove the newly reshaped pieces from it. Then passing them over to Carjack so he can start afixing the new beams and brackets into place to better reinforce Bludgeon's exsisting framework. Cue the progression of rapid work shots.

All right, time to cut to a montage! Somewhere, someone is pedalling a bike and awesome stirring music by Survivor is playing as someone gets pumped up for their next fight! Photos are taken, awesomeness happens. Meanwhile, Bludgeon lies quietly back to wait. And wait he does, going over some exercize in his head until the other is finally finished. Eventually, he looks up.

"Finished, yet?" He wants to know.

Once the bracing struts are in place, Carjack moves onto the meat of the project. The other hardware he already had available or could make, it was just some appropriate material for reinforcement they had lacked. That, and sending Decepticons out to steal stuff for their repairs tended to bring back access that could be requisitioned to the rest of Logistics needs. But lets get back to the point here. While the actuators themselves are fine, it's increasing their output that he takes care of. Retooling their calibrations for a larger ratio of power distribution. Refitting portions of his control network so Bludgeon doesn't loose any of his trained precision of course. And naturally modifying all the power relays and coolant feeds so they get the energy needed to work at their increased capacity. It's not an extremely complicated operation, more so is it just took a good amount of time and a bit of intricate work. By the time Bludgeon finally looks up, Carjack is in the process of replacing the armor. The medic smirks a bit, making no indication of just how long the samurai has been in his trance. "Told you it wouldn't take as long as you might expect."

Bludgeon says nothing at first, his attention is occupied purely by internal diagnostics as he checks over Carjack's work as best he is able. Electrons flow down circuit paths and around re-routed areas, and here and there he finds himself surprised by some greater efficiency or some difference where he hadn't expected it. It takes several minutes for him to come out of his inward observation, during which one might think that he was going through the same trance again. Suddenly though, he lashes out in a five pointed strike towards Carjack's center of mass that despite it's speed, if it hits, will do absolutely nothing other than go -tink-. Someone is testing his reflexes.

It doesn't do nothing but -tink-.... that and make the medic jump backwards out of sheer startlement at how fast the guy was already moving. He wobbles backwards with a clunky landing, though thankfully his overly wide base of stability for his height thanks to his broad soles keeps him from falling over. "By Straxus! I've never seen a patient recover their activity level that quickly after an operation. You really are something else."

Bludgeon nods in a satisfied manner as he takes in Carjack's reaction. "The job is satisfactory." He says, returning his hand to his lap. "Very satisfactory. However, there is a slight misalignment in one internal motive processor. I believe it is C-44-A near my left shoulder. It is causing a reaction delay of roughly twelve nanoseconds between the queue of command for my left arm to move and the movement beginning. Would you be able to fix this?" As to the statement of him being something else, he does not comment except to say: "One who understands their own capabilities and limitations and where to find them will find that he is hardly slowed by such mundane things as surgical procedures. Is the adjustment possible?"

"The less downtime a soldier spends sprawled in the medbay recovering, the better for us all, I say." And less work stress for him, but Carjack is hardly in the mood to be grumbling about work now. Seeing a warrior bring such startling potential from his handwork is one of those things that really puts the guy in good spirits... which is good since he's going to be druging through hell again later... "Yes, of course. Some minor additional calibration is not uncommon." He walks around behind Bludgeon, and doesn't even need to open up armor this time. A probe-like wand is produced from storage, a few commands entered into its controller, and then held up to the indicated spot to send some minor readjustment commands digitally to the offending component. "Better?"

Bludgeon is silent for another moment or two, and then he finally places a hand on either side of chair and rises properly to his feet. Apparently, the samurai finds the modification to be satisfactory for he bows slightly to Carjack. "Your efforts are appreciated. They will serve the Empire well. Do not suffer the misfortunate of getting yourself killed, Carjack. You will be useful to many later." And with that, Bludgeon turns and exits the medical bay.

Carjack guesses that's an approval, in an odd sort of a way. "I rather plan on that, yes." He's got too much other work on his plates to go wandering onto the battlefield right much anyways, but that's besides the point. "As long as you put my work to good use for the Empire, that's all the appreciation I need."