Spun Up On The Down Low

Summary: Nightbeat, Red Alert, and First Aid get Jazz spun up on the down low, and Talazia Keldahoff gets a soda.

Orion Pax - Grapplebee's

=
=================[ The Orion Pax ]===============================

A fine family establishment geared toward Transformers and humans alike, "Grapplebee's" is the affectionately given nickname to the ship's mess hall, owing to its distinctive look -- the unmistakable modernist touch of Grapple is everywhere you look. Elegant, shallow curves, chrome plating, and parallel lines are the dominant theme in the decor, with beautiful relief carvings set onto the walls as decorations. A walkway leads through the mess hall directly, onward to the living space of the ship, allowing passersby to have a glimpse of what's on the menu (for Transformers, energon), or lean over the railings in the arcade-styled partitions to say hey to a friend. The path has a circular space in its center with steps running perpendicular to the path to allow access to either end of the hall. In the center, a statue built out of water coolers by Pipes commemorates Ultra Magnus. The actual seating areas are spacious, with separate, narrow pathways leading up to raised platforms where humans can order food from their cook and chow down. Meanwhile, the Transformers get energon straight from the dispenser, and each table is mounted with at least one hydraulic seat that raises and lowers to allow humans and Transformers to eat together in harmony.

--

External ship broadcasts for this room are OFF        Type +shiphelp for help

--

Contents:

Jazz

Obvious exits:  leads to Orion Pax - Living Quarters.  leads to Orion Pax - Corridor - Fore.

 Jazz says, "Thank ya' ma'am! Feels good to be home...er, well...close enough."

 Fanfare says, "Good Tae 'ear."

Jazz is, as he just said, up at the bar. He's posted up at the far end, with an enertini on the bar and a enerchicken wing in his hand. A plate of the same sits in front of him. He seems to be a very happy mech.

Jazz wants his reports delivered at the bar? Nightbeat knew there was a reason why he liked the other Porsche! And boy, does Nightbeat have a lot of reports to deliver. He has a datapad in hand as he enters Grapplebee's and saunters over to the bar. He salutes, a bit sloppily, and starts, "Got a few things to go over. First of all, good luck with convincing Grimlock that he ain't king. Kup's repaired, they say, but he ain't up for it, mentally. Red Alert's got me working on some of the wheres and whyfores of that."

Jazz nods, slowly, as Nightbeat starts delivering his reports, still eating his wings. With his left hand, he delivers a kind of sloppy salute, motions to the seat next to him and nudges the plate Nightbeat's direction. He declares happily: "Cajun!" Like they'd be anything else. He takes a few more bites, and deposits the empty enertube (you know, the thing that holds the enerwings together in the middle) on the discard plate. "Aright, boss. I'll talk with Kup, see if he'll spill anything to me he won't let onto to you. What else you ... wait, where're my manners? What's your drink. Name it, on me."

 Fanfare says, "'Guess not."

 Tailgate says, "Ooh, we're playing guessing games? Ask me one!"

Nightbeat quite happily sits down on the motioned to chair, sitting on it backward, leaning forward against the chair back. He sets the datapad down on the counter, and his optic band widens. Jazz wants to feed Nightbeat's drinking habit? Hot dang! The detective fumbles, "Uh, shoot me a double malt blended high grade." How one malts what is a probably petroleum distillate is a mystery. "Here's the deal. /Weird/ stuff's been happenin' around Kup, and Red Alert's sure that Kup knows more than he's lettin' on. If you can get him to talk, great. In the meantime, two diplomatic missions and a battle have been disrupted because of /blood/ bursting out of fountains or raining down from the sky."

 Fanfare says, "Ah wus trying t'find First Aid or Mes Lassiter."

 Tailgate says, "Oh, so hide and seek, then? I got this one."

 Fanfare says, "Errr, nae really."

 Fanfare says, "But tanks."

 Tailgate shouts, "HEY FIRST AID!"

 Tailgate mimics First Aid's voice. Poorly. "Well hi there, it's my favorite minibot, Windcharger!"

 Tailgate says, "WHY DO YOU SAY SUCH HURTFUL THINGS?"

Jazz has a sip (ok, a little bit more..) of his enertini, then dives in on another wing as Nightbeat continues. As the investigator talks, the bartender sets his drink down in front of him. Jazz nibbles on until - screech. You can almost hear the record skipping in the background. "Blood? What kind of blood?" How Jazz manages to speak with perfect diction, even with a mouthful of enerchicken is a mystery.

 Fanfare says, "..."

 Fanfare says, "errr, uh. Thank ye. Ah suppose."

 Tailgate says, "Oh, yeah. Totally welcome."

<Autobot> Fanfare says, "Who are ye anyways?"

<Autobot> Tailgate says, "Huh?"

<Autobot> Fanfare says, "You."

<Autobot> Tailgate gets suspicious. "I dunno. Who are you?"

<Autobot> Fanfare says, "Fanfare."

Nightbeat can only assume that Jazz is very talented. The detective is getting a bit of a headache from the radio banter, and he pinches the bridge of his nose. To explain the matter of the blood, his head transforms, and Muzzle steps off his shoulders, moving to stand on the bar. He subspaces his armour, revealing that he is a human-looking Nebulan - medium-dark skin, black hair, a blue trenchcoat, fedora, and tie, a yellow shirt, and snappy shoes. He greets, "I'm Muzzle. You've been briefed on the *masters? Yeah. I'm Nightbeat's head. I'm also a Nebulan. Long story. Weird story. Anyway, the thing is, in London, blood appeared in a fountain where Kup was on a diplomatic mission. Blood and four conjoined skeletons. No sign of an insertion point, and as soon as Kup left, the problem cleared up. /Nebulan/ blood."

<Autobot> Tailgate says, "Huh, Fanfare, I like the sound of that. Would you like to join the cause to fight roboppression?"

<Autobot> Fanfare says, "Thank ye. And uhm, Maybe?"

<Autobot> Talazia Keldahoff says, "oh brother."

<Autobot> Tailgate says, "Cool. The organization is Tailgate's Anti-Roboppression Task Force For The Prevention Of Cruelty To Machines Of All Kinds, or tartfurtpoctum for short. Have a pamphlet?"

<Autobot> Fanfare says, "... 'at acronym doesnt end wi' th' reit letters, but sure."

<Autobot> Tailgate says, "What's an acronym?"

<Autobot> Talazia Keldahoff says, "Fanfare.....arguing with him doesn't get you anywhere."

<Autobot> Fanfare says, "When ye take the first letter of each word in the name, and put them together."

<Autobot> Tailgate says, "Oh. Why would anyone want to do that?"

<Autobot> Fanfare says, "Like 'A.Q.A.P' - As Quick as Possible."

<Autobot> Fanfare says, "Eits faster."

Jazz resumes chewing, and luckily has swallowed before --- SCREECH. No record skipping here. It's straight off the platter, cats. Sure, Jazz has read about the *Masters. He's even seen pictures of them all. Read up on their parterns. He knows just about as much about Muzzle as anyone not named Nightbeat or Muzzle. He's Jazz, after all. But still...seeing your buddy's head just pop off and start walking around on it's own??

Jazz gets back, honky cat, the stool going for a perfect 0-point landing off to the side before he reflexively grabs it mid-tumble and, with a smooth flipping motion, sets it back in it's place at the bar. Jazz takes a moment to breathe out, then resumes his place at the bar. "Nebulan blood... reacting to Kup? Kup only?" He doesn't take his eyes off of Muzzle, but does reach out for another wing. "I don't guess you like enerwings."

<Autobot> Auto-Junk Dee-Kal says, "I think a Petition Against Robot Protests would be good..."

<Autobot> Fanfare says, "So wot do ye do then with it, Tailgate?"

<Autobot> Tailgate says, "Do with what?"

<Autobot> Fanfare says, "Yer organization."

<Autobot> Tailgate says, "Uh.. I don't have an organization. What a weird thing to say. Pamphlet?"

<Autobot> Talazia Keldahoff says, "I don't even think he knows how to get organized."

<Autobot> Tailgate says, "That was very rude, missy."

<Autobot> Fanfare asks carefully "Pamphlet on wot?

<Autobot> Tailgate says, "I don't come into your house and start insulting you."

<Autobot> Tailgate says, "Uh, I dunno. I think the printer misheard me, and it's all in some kind of squiggly font."

<Autobot> Talazia Keldahoff says, "see?"

<Autobot> Fanfare says, "Wot Did ye tell him?"

Then Jazz knows that Muzzle was a Nebulan detective who got kicked off the force by Zarak for presenting evidence that Nightbeat was mostly harmless in court. Muzzle whistles lowly at Jazz's smooth recovery. "This is the weird thing. At the fountain in London, it was about a hundred Nebulans worth of blood, but... the DNA was all the same. Belonged to a legendary Nebulan king named Narmanex the 3rd who went... missing about 10,000 years ago. According to the stuff I was taught in school, a 'great bird' carried him and a few thousand others off. Then, at a diplomatic mission to the Torqulonese, blood showed up again and Kup was there. The last event was a battle in the ruins of," he shudders, "Nogginburg. They say blood rained down on Kup. Still gotta get a sample of the blood rain and check the DNA. It gets weirder, though."

<Autobot> Auto-Junk Dee-Kal says, "Hello, Tailgate."

<Autobot> Tailgate says, "Uh.. I don't really remember. I think he was French."

<Autobot> Fanfare says, "Ah. Ah see."

<Autobot> Tailgate says, "Xerox is a French name, right?"

<Autobot> Talazia Keldahoff says, "was the brand 'Dot Matrix'?"

<Autobot> Fanfare says, "Ah dun ken."

<Autobot> Auto-Junk Dee-Kal says, "TAilgate, did you get Mister Xerox and Miss Matrix to print pamphlets for you?"

<Autobot> Tailgate says, "Ugh. Humans /would/ talk about /brands/."

<Autobot> Auto-Junk Dee-Kal says, "Because if so, are you not encouraging oppression of printers?"

<Autobot> Tailgate says, "Huh? They were plying honest trade! Fifteen something-or-others a copy!"

<Autobot> Auto-Junk Dee-Kal says, "Ah, I see. SO they are merely earning a wage. That is good."

Of course Jazz knew that. His player may not have, but that is beside the point. He is about to say something, when he hears those magic words: It gets weirder. "Oh? continue."

<Autobot> Tailgate says, "Not at all like those poor fellows who toil away for minimal electricity and half-empty toner cartridges in human office buildings."

<Autobot> Fanfare says, "But a question: Wot would th'machine do with the extra electricity? We dun use eet except tae do our work."

<Autobot> Auto-Junk Dee-Kal says, "I hear the life of an office worker *can* be harsher than one would think."

<Autobot> Auto-Junk Dee-Kal says, "My femme-friend - my laptop, Smurfy - is very proud to use minimal power. She says on her screen all the time how she is energy efficient. I think she is boastful, you know..."

<Autobot> Tailgate says, "Whatever he wants! See the world, visit Bangkok and Melbourne, whatever!"

<Autobot> Fanfare says, "But how would 'e get there without legs?"

<Autobot> Tailgate says, "Yes, it's very sad how the humans hobble those poor copybots. But where are the courts? Where is the outrage?"

<Autobot> Auto-Junk Dee-Kal says, "Now come on, Tailgate. You *know* printers are homebodies, ne? They do not like to go out."

<Autobot> Auto-Junk Dee-Kal says, "I *have* heard..."

<Autobot> Tailgate says, ".. maybe they have dreams, y'know."

<Autobot> Auto-Junk Dee-Kal sounds hushed and conspiratorial, "I heard from a water cooler about the infamous humie 'office party'....

<Autobot> Fanfare says, "hmm. Well, ennyways, Ah may have t'pass on the pamplet Tailgate. et would be a conflic o interest Ah think."

<Autobot> Auto-Junk Dee-Kal says, "And well! Talk about the secret life of! If you only *SMURFED* some of the things they have printed..!"

<Autobot> Tailgate says, "Hmmph! Oh yeah, freedom is the right of all, 'cept if you don't have time to care. Jerks."

<Autobot> Auto-Junk Dee-Kal says, "I think photocopiers have it smurfed. They can blackmail if they feel oppressed, Tailgate."

<Autobot> Fanfare rumbles "... Did ye just call me a Jerk?"

<Autobot> Tailgate says, "What of it?"

<Autobot> Fanfare says, "Just wonderin'."

Muzzle steeples his fingers, then returns to his armour and his place on Nightbeat's shoulders, as his head. Nightbeat takes a stiff gulp of his drink and mutters, "Thanks." More loudly, he continues, "At the battle, one Decepticon - no name yet - reported seeing and hearing some... things that the other 'cons apparently didn't. Said he saw a red figure stalking Kup and dropped a name - Firebomb. Turns out, Firebomb was a wannabe Decepticon warlord. The official report," they both know what that means, "claims that Firebomb was likely killed when his airship crashed while he was still on board on Nanxis IV, in the Spectral Climbs. I'd like to get a team to check out Nanxis IV, if there's anything left to find."

<Autobot> Talazia Keldahoff says, "Hey Tailgate?"

<Autobot> Talazia Keldahoff says, "you do realize that most of us take very good care of our 'mechanical friends'?"

<Autobot> Victory Leo says, "That's what the plantation owners said."

<Autobot> Tailgate says, "Whatever helps you sleep at night, squishy."

Jazz finishes off yet another wing with amazing speed. He is a professional, y'know. "Consider it done and ordered, as soon as possible. I may even go with ya, time depending." Jazz wipes his mouth with a transnapkin. "So who do we have on the ground besides you that can run this show? If I let you go trippin' across the galaxy I need someone in the streets here with half a clue." He picks up his enertini and takes a decently sized drag. "Any ideas who you'd want with you? Kup is a priority, and if you think you got a lead on gettin him fixed, then we gotta get to it."

<Autobot> Talazia Keldahoff says, "I thought 'squishy' was a word the Decepticons used. huh.  I guess some Cybertronians traits transcend faction."

Jazz raises a finger. "One sec."

<Autobot> Jazz cuts in. There's a jukebox in the background. "Tailgate! My man, you can go on with all that jive and I don't care, but show our friends some respect, alright? For me?"

<Autobot> Victory Leo says, "Yeah, get it right. They're 'flesh bags'."

<Autobot> Tailgate says, "Hmmph! I was until she started insulting me and my roboheritage."

<Autobot> Jazz says, "Leo...brother, please. A little help here?"

<Autobot> Jazz says, "Tailgate...argue all you want. Discussion is good for the soul. Just cut the nasty from your wordlist."

<Autobot> Auto-Junk Dee-Kal says, "Personal stereos get very well treated. They are kept warm in coat pockets."

<Autobot> Jazz says, "Miss K, I'm sorry. Some of our folks are a little heated on these things. I gotta get back to some things, if it gets worse, just give me a shout. Tailgate, I'll be listening."

<Autobot> Jazz's feed cuts out again.

<Autobot> Talazia Keldahoff says, "later, Jazz."

Jazz drops his finger. "Alright. Go on. Sorry man.

<Autobot> Tailgate says, "Whatever. Everyone pick on the minibot so you can all feel important. I'm outta here."

<Autobot> Talazia Keldahoff says, "who said I was picking on ya?"

Nightbeat waits, taking another mouthful of drink, rolling it over in his mouth and savouring it, considering the questions. "Hmm. Foxfire and Red Alert both have good sensors, but Red Alert's got his hands full. Maybe some muscle, if we run afoul of trouble. I can't tell you how many times we've thought a 'con is stone cold dead, and he's been more... ambulatory than expected. On the ground here? Oh, there's Raindance," who is a bit spastic, "Mishap," who is a kleptomanic, "Smokescreen," actually competent, "and, uh, Punch," who tried to frame Nightbeat for shooting at a baby carriage, "reserves, too," whoever else happens to be around at the time!

Jazz nods, checking off his own lists in his mind. "Alright, we should be set then. Before you go I'll need whatever contacts you've got in the Nebulon structure.. I want to start pulling the carpet out from under this Zarak jerk." He uses 'jerk' because he's in public, not because it's the best word he could find for the situation. "If you're going, go soon. Kup can't wait, and I can't lose you for too long. We got work to do, bro."

Nightbeat nods and explains, "Muzzle was on the local force. He has a few contacts left in the force that ain't put off by him being my head. He's also technically an honourary World Watcher, but that don't mean much under the current regime. The World Watchers are a paramilitary security force that answer to Galen, but being as Galen is Fortress Maximus's head, he ain't exactly in favour right now. Speaking of Fortress Maximus..."

Jazz perks up. "Yeah...he's of particular interest to me. I'd love to have chat with that bad mamajama." Jazz's enertini is gone, but he waves the bartender off. Work before pleasure.

Nightbeat lowers his voice and explains, "See, that's what started all this. I just can't resist a cold case, y'know, and I got a lead on the location of the Steelhaven," a fabled lost ship, gone before Optimus Prime was a gleam in the Matrix. "I actually found it, crew and all. Turns out, Fortress Maximus and his crew had packed up and left Cybertron, trying to get Scorponok to follow them. Scorponok's a Prime killer. Snuffed Sentinel Prime and Sarikus Prime. Chucked their severed head at Rodimus Prime last week. Nasty piece of work, that Scorponok. I can't blame them for getting Scorponok off Cybertron, but somewhere along the line... it wasn't about the war anymore. They gave up. Maybe not all of them, and maybe not entirely, but they're... basically deserters." Nightbeat looks rather deeply troubled. "When I caught up with them, they were doin' science on a wormhole. When the Hellbender - Scorponok's ship - snuck up on 'em, they were taken totally by surprise."

Jazz makes a gesture towards the barkeep, and points at his glass. He would be needing another one, after all. "From the reports, it seems like they can hold their own in a fight, though." It's said like a question, but he doesn't wait for an immediate answer. "What's your take on Fort's compadres? Are they still Autobots, or are we dealing with a seperatist group?" What defines an 'Autobot,' he leaves to Nightbeat's interpretation.

Nightbeat is not the best guy to ask about what makes a proper Autobot, because he'll admit readily enough that he screws up by the numbers when it comes to being a proper /anything/. He takes a thoughtful swig of his own glass. "Fortress Maximus and his men are still Autobots, I think, but we gotta be careful about them. No accepting them blindly. I ain't saying we should be unfriendly or anything, but keep an optic on them. They - and me, too, I guess - all have a pretty big vested interest in Nebulos now," for obvious reasons. "That, and there's a lil' reason to worry about a leak."

Jazz slams his head against the bar. "A leak! Primus almighty! That's the /last/ thing we need at a time like this!" He stands up sharply, knocking the barstool over, and raises his arms to the heavens. "Who was the idiot who let this happen! I leave for /a simple mission/ and everyone lets our security go to shit!"

At least, that's what happens in Jazz's /head/. On the outside, he grabs an enerwing, and has a bite. "Tell me about this supposed leak, jack."

It probably does not help that, a few months ago, Nightbeat was an evil sleeper agent, working for the Dead Universe and that he literally sent Red Alert to Hell. They both got better. "See, the *master process was created to allow a Nebulan - like my new buddy Muzzle, there - fill in for either a damaged primary battle computer or a damaged targeting computer, hence Headmasters and Targetmasters, because after the crash of the Steelhaven, thassk to Scorponok and his men on the Hellbender, Fortress Maximus's crew was real messed up, and I, uh... crawled to Koraja for help, where the locals executed me. On live TV. There were cheers." His words get clipped and short, and Nightbeat rubs the back of his neck, feeling distinctly uncomfortable as he recounts that particular bit. "Brainstorm was semi-operational, so he worked with a Nebulan doc and invented the *master process. Thing is, as soon as the Autobot *masters rolled out, trying to rescue Llyra - she's a princess - from Astrotrain, the Decepticons already had their own *masters. Arcana and Brainstorm tell me that it's crazy improbable for the technology to have been developed independently."

Well, truth be told, there have been times...many times, where Jazz wouldn't have minded shunting Red Alert off to robot hell himself, so no hard feelings there. "Do we have any leads?" This was suddenly more important on the priority list than even Kup. Kup's return meant nothing if there was a gaping hole in the information chain. At least, to the mind of a spymaster.

For his part, however, Nightbeat seemed to be holding up. Jazz had to be suspicious of everyone at this point..especially Autobots who now carried a living liability on their shoulders. Trust no one, indeed.

Nightbeat lays the facts down, "Can't have been reserved-engineered from an Autobot *master. Not enough time. Arcana used multiple suppliers," not all of them legal, "so the suppliers can't have compared notes and figured it out. Each of his lab assistants only knew a part of the process, so even if they all compared notes, they'd still have a wicked puzzle to put together. His lab was hidden and had security systems to alert him about intrusion, His data was encrypted. So I see three main options - one of his helpers figured the whole deal out and sold out. Pretty unlikely, this one, given how much his lab assistants suffered when Thunderwing set up shop on Nebulos a while back. Two, someone managed to steal the data. Also unlikely, given security, but someone with skills like Ravage could probably pull it off - by the way, the Decepticons have a new invisible Seeker, and I /want/ his name, stat. Last option." Nightbeat's expression turns dark. "Brainstorm and Arcana are lying."

Jazz turns his head ever so slightly to the side to look at Nightbeat. Up until this point, he's been primarily focused on his enerwings..at least as much as anyone can tell, given the visor and all. "What's your take on Brainstorm and Arcana? Could they be covering something up?" The question left in Jazz's mind would be, then...'why?' It didn't pattern, logically, unless either of them was already predisposed towards sympathies to Decepticons or Zarak, and just needed the resources the Autobots could provide..but given the story as presented to him, there would be no logical reason for Arcana to bring the Autobots back if he just needed the process for the sake of the Decepticons. Of course, there were greater conspiracy threads, that somehow Arcana would profit from a prolonged war on Nebulos, or perhaps he's just mad, or, even worse...entirely altruistic and couldn't bear the thought of not reviving all the dead, regardless of the cost...if Nightbeat is benevolent, he'll interrupt this internal monologue at his earliest convenience, before Jazz somehow manages to place Arcana at the Grassy Knoll..

Nightbeat admits, "It doesn't really jive for Brainstorm and Arcana to be behind the leak, but... what if they didn't know they were? Apparently, one of the new Decepticons is a hypnotist or something, so this could be Bombshell redux all over again." Intelligence's worst nightmare. "Granted, that same excuse applies to any of Arcana's assistants - could have been forced into spilling the beans unwillingly. Brainstorm and Arcana? Seem like your typical absent-minded professors. Arcana's a little sharper, maybe. Eccentric. Really likes goggles."

Red Alert has arrived.

Jazz's mind continues racing at a few thousand miles a second. "Alright. Nebulon physiology. Talk to me. Dealing with human-style neurological functions? Or could they be controlled by Cybertronian technology? And what do we have on Mindwipe --" Yes, he knows the name. He's Jazz, people. Even if he doesn't have all the details (yet). "Have we studied him enough to ascertain the scope of his power?" Jazz is deathly serious, as one can tell from his tone and the fact that, whoops, that was the rest of his enertini gone in one take. Then, like a flip of a switch... "Hey, bartender! My main man..load up another go-round for me and my partner here, will ya top dog? Muchas gracias." He turns back to Nightbeat. "Hit me."

Nightbeat is sitting at the bar, backward on his chair, letting Jazz buy him drinks, making reports on recent intelligence. Life is good. He has covered Kup and the weird blood, that Fortress Maximus's crew are a bunch of deserters, that the Decepticons have a new invisible Seeker, and the possible leak. He still has stuff to cover! "Not much. These guys booked out and off Cybertron back before Optimus Prime. Records are bound be fragmented, incorrect, or just plain gone. Should get someone on that. Nebulans look like humans, but they're an awful lot hardier. They /eat/ mercury - mercury! It'll kill humans! Two hearts. Zarak took rads that would have snuffed a cockroach and is still ticking. Pretty obviously, you can link Nebulan minds up to Transformers, so it's not like they're totally out of left field." Okay, maybe Muzzle is, but he's with Nightbeat, who also doesn't think like a normal person, so that's fine.

Red Alert steps in from the exit towards berthing, just in time to catch the last two words. The voice, of course, is instantly recognizable. He turns and approaches the table, walking briskly, stance formal. He wears a strained smile. "Ah, Jazz," he greets. "I am /incredibly/ relieved to see you've joined us... although perhaps a bit less so to see you conspiring with my XO."

From anyone else, that second part, said in the same dead-pan serious way that the rest of his statement was, would have been a joke.

Jazz makes a smooth upward nod of the head towards Red Alert. "Conspiring? Nah, we're just havin' a rap session. Feel free to join in with what you know. I assume you've been listening in." It was an easy bet to make. "Hey cool kid!" This is the to the bartender. "Anything the mech wants, alright?"

"On your tab?"

"Yeah."

"Just standard," Red Alert requests as he sits down primly, his back perfectly straight and upright in his chair. "I've only caught the discussions concerning Brainstorm and Arcana as the possible source of the leak, and the talk of the Decepticons' hypnotist." He pauses as he clasps his hands neatly on the table in front of him and nods towards Nightbeat. "I /believe/ he may be the same one who saw our 'ghost' near Kup at the battle."

"What else Nightbeat may have told you," Red Alert adds, "I'm not sure."

Nightbeat shoots a slag-eating grin at Red Alert, polishes off his first drink, and starts on his second. He ticks off on his fingers, "I've covered Kup and the blood, the possible leak about the *master process, the invisible Seeker, and how we need to watch Fortress Maximus's crew, on account of them, ah, being deserters. Haven't got to Uberion yet."

Jazz takes each in turn. "It makes sense that Mindwipe'd be the ghost whisperer. Oh, and speaking of listening in, Red, I need you to keep up with communications. Blaster's staying with Ultra Magnus as his attache, and I just sent Telestar on a...special mission. So it's falling to you. I can cover things down on the ground." Understatement of the year? Anyhow. "So..Uberion. Spit it."

Red Alert's cube is delivered, and he takes a small sip of it. He frowns at Jazz for a moment. "Of /course/ I'll keep up with communications," he notes. "Although at this rate, I really must put in for a long range upgrade... not only are the ones on board the Pax less secure, they're also severely lacking." As in, someone forgot to give the giant spaceship LR_Radio.

"Uberion. Lil' nowhere planet. Only noteworthy if you're way into xenoarchaeology," Nightbeat explains, playing with his shot glass, spinning it around on the counter. He glances around Grapplebee's, every now and then, not being terribly obvious about it. His demeanor is relaxed, even casual. "We heard they were having a spate of trouble, and you know how we Autobots are. There were some cultist with a distinct Unicronian stink about them there, and they said they'd been expecting us. Thing is, even they were scared. There was monster there, a creature made out of blades and barbed wire. It had taken all the citizens outta one of the cities and impaled them on a great big techno-organic tree of thorns. We couldn't just let that stand."

Jazz listens to both intently. "Didn't think you wouldn't, Red, but never assume anything. I'll look into the long-range..the specs for the ship called for it, and I can't imagine Grapple biffed something that essential." Well, maybe he can, but still. Ever the motivator. "Alright, tell me more. Uberion. Standard insert and dominate, or was there some fancy dancing?"

Red Alert tilts his head and considers, a frown worrying at his face as he absently taps at the table. "I'm not sure you could call anything about Uberion 'standard,'" he notes quietly.

Nightbeat continues, "The cultists said that we had to tell stories to keep the monster away - psh, whatever. Then it killed one of the cultists and /vanished/. Both Red Alert and I saw it, and it wasn't a normal cloaking field. It was... more like a ship engaging FTL. 'cept you can't do that in a planet's gravity well. Leakin' peculiar. So we crossed the plain to go visit this 'sphinx' thing that was supposed to be a lead. On the way, we experienced some poltergeist effects, and the monster came back to cut something in my door." More than something. Words. Nightbeat doesn't want to go into it. "Red Alert figured out that thettree that was keepin' all the locals prisoner was actually storing data in its fruit - what kinda of data, I dunno."

Red Alert inclines his head briefly in a nod. "That's right. In fact, I did get permission to return for further investigation, but then my /XO went missing/," he glares at Nightbeat out of the corner of his visual field, "and then the war returned to Nebulos, so there hasn't been time."

Jazz just kind of... stares... at the two of them. "I am never leaving you two alone again. Yeesh." He smiles, even though he might be just a little serious. "Alright. What I need, /now/ is for us to come up with a plan. A list of things that need doin' and exploratin'. Red Alert, you're the top rung on the ladder. You first."

Nightbeat snorts lowly at Red Alert. Finding the Steelhaven was important! If only he didn't lose his head in the process. He interjects, "The Uberion story ain't over. So the sphinx - this thing talked, and it explained the whole deal to us. The monster - called a Shrike, I guess - and the Tree of Pain were meant to lure out an 'empathy component' in a trap. My guess? Rodimus Prime and/or the Matrix. The Sphinx had been sent to contain the Shrike, but its powers were getting too weak, so it was up to us. Kup managed to nail the Shrike with some acid rounds, and Fireflight managed to take down the tree. We got the locals free and evacuated before the whole thing caught on fire. That tree's technology was part Cybertronian, or it sure looked like it, and when we got back to out ship, those cultists? All slaughtered. That planet's got some unanswered questions, though they can wait until we figure out how the Decepticons got their mitts on the *master process and get Kup back in the saddle." He pauses. "Erm, sorry." It's hard to stop a detective when he's expositing.

Red Alert puts his energon cube down, lifts his left hand, and begins counting off on his fingers. "I've made Nightbeat's priority getting to the bottom of Kup's 'haunting,' as I strongly suspect it's connected to Kup's insistence that he is unfit for command. We want Kup back in a full working capacity, we have to get to the bottom of that. Foxfire is my primary investigator for the location of Rodimus Prime's head. This is a lower priority, as a second one is in the process of being constructed, but if we can get the old one we can get him operational that much sooner. I've asked Punch to investigate the Steelhaven Autobots, to spend time with them when he can, with the focus on finding the information leak among them. I consider these to be our top priorities, as they relate more or less directly to the strength of the command structure or the situation on Nebulos. Of course, on the backburner, we also have the return to Uberion, investigation into that 'Stairmaster' character from Parallax, the chronometer discrepancies on the Pax, the strange black-space anomaly, the mutant frogs around Metroplex, and the Quintesson whale-beast lose in Earth's oceans all on back-burner."

Jazz takes it all in. He did, really, have a wonderful setup in this division. When he had to be apart, he had Red Alert to keep everything organized while Nightbeat did the groundpounding. Now /his/ first priority would have to be figuring out how to reinsert himself without getting in the way. "Red Alert, next you see Punch, can you push him my way? I need him to escort me to Steelhaven so that I can meet with these clowns myself." Well, that, and he had some..other assignments for Punch. "Alright boys. Anything else on our plates? I like the divvy up you got runnin', Red. I'm about to send Nightbeat here out to take a look at that Nanxis lead, if you think you can spare him."

First Aid has arrived.

Red Alert says, very stiffly, "I /have/ requested that he at least inform us before leaving, at the very least, considering the fact that I can't think of a single good thing that has resulted from Nightbeat running off on his own without warning. However, not only can I spare him, I consider that his top priority." He takes a quick sip from his cube. "And I will let Punch know the next time I see him." It's only then that the fact that he's been complimented catches up with Red Alert, and he smiles faintly. "And, uh... thank you, sir."

First Aid hasn't spent much time in Grapplebee's, as this is where the cool kids tend to hang out, and First Aid is only cool in the 'studying hard and doing your homework is cool' kind of way, which isn't very cool at all. But Jazz has requested an update, and since the doctor is unclear on what specifically he wants to know, First Aid has put his tracking skills to the test and hunted Jazz down. This just means he asked Blaster where Jazz was. The Protectobot steps into Grapplebee's and immediately spots Red Alert, Nightbeat, and his objective up at the bar and heads over, careful not to get in anyone's way.

Nightbeat is sitting backwards on his chair, leaning over the chairback, nipping at a shotglass of high grade. He is just fine and dandy with his assignment! Sure, he has to take a partner, ugh, or more with him, but they won't slow him down too much. He glances sidelong at First Aid - he heard the doc coming, of course. Nightbeat waves at First Aid casually and calls out, "Doc! Any good news?"

"You're welcome, Reddo. Well deserved." Jazz flashes the CO a smile, which then broadens as First Aid makes an appearance. "Firsty! You thirsty? Barman! Another round for the collective, and throw whatever Doc'll have on top of that."

"You gonna actually /pay/ this tab sometime?"

"Yeah cat, I'm good for it. Got the corporate card!" Seriously, have you /seen/ the Autobot corporate card? Talk about no limit. "First Aid...glad you could join up. You're the closest thing I can find to a ranking operations officer on this little slice of space-bound heaven, and I wanted to hear first hand how things are goin', who we got banged up, what's left of Roddy, how we're doing for staff and supplies, all of that." Jazz, while an intel guy, did at least try to take the rest of his command job seriously.

Red Alert is still on his first cube! Of... standard. Because he's dull. "Ah, First Aid, greetings," he greets the medic, then he tilts his head, frowning. He sniffs at the air, then hops up, scurrying across the room to an electrical panel. He opens it up, replaces a fuse swiftly and with practiced ease, then returns, sitting down. "Sorry. Blown fuse. The, uhm, training room occasionally draws a power spike that blows that circuit. Still being isolated." Although, that does remind him of something...

First Aid waves back to Nightbeat as he awkwardly leans against the bar. Compared to Jazz, he looks super uncool. He answers both Nightbeat and Jazz regarding the update, "Well there's good news from Splendora. The Junkions were a huge help in getting temporary shelter put up for the citizens. But if you mean Kup and Rodimus Prime, the former is capable of leading whenever he gives himself the green light, and the latter I'm hoping will be awake within the next few days." He's about to start explaining about supplies, but Red Alert suddenly detects a blown fuze, fixes it, and returns. "I've got to learn that trick sometime," he comments.

Nightbeat is a lush when circumstances doesn't intervene. Another round of drinks? Jazz is the /best/. He comments to First Aid, "Oh, blown fuses? Just gotta listen for this lil' popping noise." At one point, Red Alert was grudgingly teaching Nightbeat about security systems. Then, Nightbeat got turned evil and... yeah. "Kinda helps to have enhanced audios, though."

"Actually, it was the burnt smell that tipped me off on that one," Red Alert adds. "I'm no technician, but I've tried to learn most of our more common fuses by scent."

First Aid huhs at Nightbeat and Red Alert. "I'm going to see about dragging one of you two along for the next ship's inspection." The bartender mech comes by (probably Hoist, because honestly...) to see what the doctor wants. "A standard cube, please." The bartender (yeah, definitely Hoist) first glances over at Jazz to make sure that non-overenergized energon is acceptable or not. "Supply-wise we benefited a lot from Fanfare's shipment work, and from the Junkions using debris as building supplies, but it's been rough on the medical side of things. We've had a lot of serious casualties. I could easily draw up a list of a dozen urgent medical supplies that we're dangerously low on. Word of the wise? Don't get any damage that requires replacement energy conductors..."

Red Alert is drinking standard himself. He takes a small sip. "I wouldn't mind, First Aid. I have to check the security systems fairly regularly, anyway." Ths probably means that he checks the security systems way /too/ regularly.

First Aid gets his normal energon cube from the bartender, but leaves it untouched on the bar top for now. "Do you know if we're going to be getting any additional shipments from Earth, Red?" First Aid asks hopefully.

"I believe so, though I am uncomfortable with how much we are relying on the Terrans for this," Red Alert answers. He picks up his cube, sloshes the energon in it around a little, then takes another small sip. He's really boring to drink with, usually. There have been exceptions.

"You think we're starting to use them as a crutch?" the doctor asks as he finally takes a sip from his normal, non-overenergized cube. As per most Transformers in his face-related situation, the exact means of how he drinks is not readily apparent.

"I do," Red Alert answers First Aid, frowning as he watches the other drink. "What's more, the more we use them, the more we open ourselves up to restrictions placed by them on ourselves."

"Well I don't think they'd ever try to take advantage of the situation, per se," First Aid replies, demonstrating why he isn't allowed to make important deals with humans. "But you're right; it's unfair of us to put such a large burden on them." Was that what Red Alert said? "There's no reason we can't be putting up our own energy production facilities like the Decepticons do, and with Cybertron slowly becoming re-energized, we aren't exactly short on real estate."

Jazz snaps out of whatever reverie he was just in. "Whoa...sorry fellas. Kinda got taken up by some of my own thing there. I tell you what... I gotta bounce and get on some of this holding things together that I'm supposed to be doing... but you kids keep drinkin, it's all on me."

"Yeah, on you /when/."

"When I say when, cat! Chill, man."

"Whatever."

"Alright cats. That's it for me. Don't forget to write, eh? And don't overlook the humans' resourcefulness. Figure how far they've come in a short time, and heck, they'll outstrip us soon. But that's it for me, y'all....PEACE!" Jazz has been walking towards the door during all of this, walking backwards without seeming to care where he was going. He flashes one final smile, and stops, just happening to be /just/ at the door. He spins around, and walks out. Smooth.

Red Alert's frown gets distinctly wider when Jazz says 'they'll outstrip us soon.' But then, neither Jazz nor First Aid were about when Rodimus was showing that UN inspector about. Something kind of off about that affair. Nightbeat was, though - Red glances at the detective to see if he remembers, then nods towards First Aid. "Actually, energon generation facilities on our own would be... would be an excellent idea, actually. Cybertron's been moved into a new system ripe with resources. It's past time we took advantage of that."

Nightbeat is not terribly enthused by the idea of the humans outstripping the Transformers, because a) he is a Transformer and b) humans are not essentially good. Neither are Transformers, mind you - see the Decepticons, but at least with Transformers, it's generally easier to tell the white hats from the black. With humans, you might be funding a resistance sect against a totalitarian empire, and the resistance sect will turn around and establish fascist oppression once they're on top. In some ways, Nightbeat wonders if humans are perhaps worse for the universe than the Decepticons are.

Then he remembers that Decepticons sling planets around and try to chuck them into stars when they get uppity. Perspective. He swigs his drink - his third, and he kindly won't run up Jazz's tab anymore, despite himself - and he points out, "Speaking of humans and our technology, remember that holo room that malfunctioned?" He glances over at Red Alert.

"Yeah, you're probably right," First Aid agrees with Jazz about the humans overtaking them. Unlike most people he doesn't seem to mind. To Red Alert, First Aid says, "I think it's safe to say that the Decepticons are probably already doing just that. They don't let an opportunity pass them by, so if we want to be there to match them, we need to get cracking." Grapple needs to get off his sorry ass and do some fricking work. First Aid looks concerned at hearing about a malfunctioning holodeck- I mean, holo room. He knows how dangerous those can be. "What happened?" he asks.

ELSEWHERE

Some Decepticon construction workers on Cybertron nap, eat energon doughnuts, and generally fail to build anything useful. Their names are Hok, Scapper, and Long Hula.

"Simulations started developing self-awareness," Red Alert explains, frowning. "Again. Starscream. Again. But not just him... we had a couple of other close-calls prior to that. I've had new cut-out switches installed in medical for the Metroplex training room, and the computer's been completely replaced." He turns towards Nightbeat. "Anyway, why do you mention it?"

Nightbeat spins his shotglass a bit more, contemplatively, and he asks, "The malfunctioning parts. How did we dispose of them?" Nightbeat was all for incasing them in concrete and dumping in the reservoir, but he thinks he has a different idea now. "Rebuilding Cybertron's a good idea, too. Gotta get on that."

First Aid hmms, frowning inwardly, "We have to be careful. If holograms are becoming self-aware, and possibly even /sentient/ - which I don't even know how that would be possible since lasercores aren't involved - then we have additional ethical concerns that we need to pay attention to as well." Can't just be killing what might be innocent holograms.

These weren't innocent.

Red Alert frowns. "First Aid, doesn't 'sentient' /mean/ 'self aware'?" He turns towards Nightbeat. "Anyway, in answer to your question, they... haven't been disposed of yet. I've been keeping the parts in a powered down and isolated state until I had the opportunity to see them properly recycled."

And no, he did not use any of the parts for Auntie, so don't even ask.

Nightbeat grins, the kind of grin that usually makes his officers wish he wasn't grinning, and he runs a hand along the counter, remarking, "Not the critical parts, and definitely not the parts that have the killer Starscream inside them, but the parts that the humans have already had leaked or figured out on their own," the EDC has a holo room, yo, "...why don't we tag them with tracers and leak them on the Terran black market? See who is buying up our gear? Might be able to nail some of our human enemies, that way. I mean... hand them off to the EDC for processing." Nightbeat static-coughs and takes another nip of his drink.

First Aid takes another sip of energon. Even though it isn't high octane (or whatever it is that makes energon like alcohol) he still drinks it cautiously. "That's one of those questions that's plagued philosobots for thousands of vorns, Red Alert. Self awareness is knowledge that you exist as an individual and that others are also individuals, which in theory could apply to a lot of situations. Sentience is a little bit tougher but includes perceiving things in a subjective manner. /Liking/ something or /not liking/ something. It isn't easy to know where to draw a line. Sure Transformers are sentient, and Autobots agree that humans and other aliens are as well. But what about a low processing turbofox? Or a transorganic worm? Or a flea? Or in this case a complicated hologram." First Aid gives Nightbeat a clance at his little slip of the vocalizer.

Nightbeat has to quibble, "Y'know, sentient isn't even a very well defined word. 'characterized by sensation and consciousness.' So what, you fall into defrag, you're unconscious, and you ain't sentient no more? Or what - a turbofox is awake, and it has sensation - is it sentient? I think the real question is: does this sucker pay taxes? And if it doesn't, should it be paying taxes? That's the real test."

Red Alert's optics widen slightly and he tilts his head as he considers Nightbeat's proposal. "I'd... like that. It would be nice to be able to trace the path of some of our technology that gets into human hands... far too much of it does, I think." Then First Aid and Nightbeat begin their philosphical discussion, and Red Alert sighs. "And would you have us put the holodecks on trial before unplugging them, First Aid? Ethical vaugaries aside, these... 'intelligences'' first acts as self-aware beings have been to try to end the lives of other self-aware beings. Autobot law /does/ allow for killing in self-defense as much as it allows for killing on the battlefield."

Talazia Keldahoff has arrived.

First Aid nods with Nightbeat, gesturing as if Nightbeat is demonstrating what he was just talking about. "Like I said, philosobots can never agree on it. I bet tax mechs could, though..." Ratbat is probably a tax mech, and he would ensure that all such suckers pay taxes. To Red Alert, First Aid replies, "Well I don't mean we have to go /crazy/ or anything, but it's something to keep in mind. I know how bad we'd all feel if it turned out we were needlessly harming individuals."

Red Alert sighs, shaking his head and glancing ceilingwards. "It's /not/ needless, whatever else it may be. It's /always/ the Decepticon holograms that do it."

Nightbeat scratches the back of his head, and he ponders, "Wonder why it's never the Ratchet hologram or the Wheeljack hologram that does? I guess they don't get a whole lot of use. Less opportunity?" He shrugs. "Get the parts, and maybe get Mishap on it? He seems like the kind of Minibot who knows where to go to hock some ill-gotten goods."

Talazia Keldahoff makes her way in....using the Ventress to make sure she doesn't get stepped on...and....apparently coming in in the middle of a conversation. She mainly remains silent since she doesn't know what the topic is....yet

First Aid looks back at Red, shrugging, "I don't know much about how the holo-room's technology works off hand, but I'm surprised that the Decepticon holograms would actually correspond to the Decepticon ideals. Honestly, the holographics should be shut down if they keep doing this sort of thing and given a full overhaul. Which one is it that's doing this, anyway?" Observant as always, First Aid doesn't notice Talazia Keldahoff entering yet.

Red Alert takes another sip of his energon cube and sniffs, as he's prone to from time to time. Keeping on-topic, but remaining vague, he explains, "It was Metroplex, First Aid, and it /was/ shut down and overhauled." Then, to Nightbeat, he smirks. "Good idea, though I wouldn't bring Mishap in on it /too/ early. He might, erm, get a bit overeager, initiate things before we're quite ready." He's sitting at the bar, speaking quietly with Nightbeat and First Aid. He takes a moment to turn and nods towards the human standing behind them. "Good day, Miss Keldahoff."

Talazia Keldahoff's Exo waves to Red Alert, then Nightbeat and First Aid. Then her external speakers come on. "I didn't want to interrupt the conversation, but I can step out if it's private. I just needed a bit of help from First Aid on something."

Red Alert waves a hand absently. "Oh, no worries, Miss Keldahoff. Nothing being discussed that won't keep." He takes another sip from his cube - the same one he's been nursing all evening. Then he glances over at First Aid, as he's the one she had requested.

Nightbeat swivels a bit on his chair and eyes Talazia. There's a dame he's been meaning to have a chat with for a few days. He greets, "Private Keldahoff, is it? Pull up a chair, sweetheart." He gestures. "I hear tell that you were a /witness/ to that freaky blood rain. Care to share your story? I think the barkeep's got some human libations."

"And it's still happening?" First Aid asks, sounding worried. As the exo-suited human approaches, the Protectobot turns around, "Why hello there. I'll be happy to help. What seems to be the issue, Miss Keldahoff?" First Aid only vaguely recalls who Talazia, and never would have recognized her in the armour had Nightbeat and Red Alert not addressed her by name.

"Erm, no, First Aid," Red Alert answers. "It stopped after that."

First Aid ohs at Red Alert. Well that solves that problem, then. He wasn't there the first time, so he didn't know what was up.

Talazia Keldahoff walks her Exo up to the table and locks the joints down before climbing out. "sure, Nightbeat." She says before sitting on the Exo's shoulder. "and just call me Siryn or Talazia. I hate using rank....it's what got me busted down to Private in the first place. And yeah, I saw that blood rain thing that happened to Kup." She then turns to First Aid. "I'm trying to figure out why the Rocket boosters on the Ventress, when you turn on the afterburners, turn off life support. I imagine that's not the only problem....."

Nightbeat arches an optical ridge at Talzia's comment about being busted down to private but make no comment. Instead, he just replied cheerily, "Sure thing, sugar. What kind of drink do you take? When did the blood rain occur? Did anything seem to trigger it?" He starts off with a few questions - too many and the witness will forget some and skip them.

Red Alert falls quiet and listens as he sips his energon cube, both due to the fact that he's interested in the results of Nightbeat's investigation, and because he recognizes the importance of life support systems to their organic allies. Can't, well, live without them!

First Aid straightens as Talazia describes the issue with her exo-suit. "That's a serious problem," he comments. "Now I'm not an expert in some of these newer exo-armour designs that have been created, but I'll be happy to take a look and see if anything jumps out at me." First Aid moves to help Talazia down from the exo-armour if she needs it, though she probably doesn't. He'll look it over in the lab, as this probably isn't the place for it. Also Nightbeat has questions about the blood rain.

Talazia Keldahoff says, "a Soda please. nothing with alcohol in it. I still have to pilot that thing home." She says gesturing to the Ventress. "It's drawing a lot of power to the engines, but I can't get the subroutines to keep from shutting down Life support. Dunno if it simply needs an extra power cell or another way to re-route power to the engines." She then smiles as First Aid helps her down. "Thanks. I got there late, Nightbeat. I took a potshot at SOundwave but then turned my attention to Mindwipe...the bat con. It was odd. I really didn't pay attention to it until the Ventress' sensor warnings went off. by then Kup was drenched AND knocked out.""

Nightbeat has to forgive Talazia for not paying attention to Kup, since there were Decepticons trying to kill her, but it's still a bit frustrating. Nightbeat snaps his fingers and asks of the bartender, "A soda for the lil' lady," which Nightbeat can put on /his/ tab, because Jazz put Nightbeat's drinks on /Jazz's/ tab. The circle of drink-buying. He eyes her exo suit speculatively, and he asks, "Say, does that thing record video, by any chance?"

"We can look it over after we're done here," First Aid says, not wanting to interrupt everyone from having a good time. He'd take the exo-armour back to the lab now, but ultimately he'll need Talazia's help. The Protectobot's drink is also on Jazz's tab due to the generosity of the Autobot Spec Ops expert. But then, who pays Jazz? Why the Autobot taxes! And who doesn't pay Autobot taxes? The non-sentient self-aware holograms from earlier! It all comes around full circle. "Ugh, it's just terrible what Kup is having to go through right now."

Red Alert sighs softly and gives First Aid a faint nod. "Yes. Yes, it is." He taps the bar top absently for a moment. "Worse that he feels he has to do it alone."

Talazia Keldahoff shakes her head as her drink arrives. "he's as stubborn as I am. shame he doesn't think he has any friends at the moment. The odd part was, the rain seemed to throw everyone into a bit of a suicidal rage. or that's how it looked."

First Aid shifts his weight from foot to foot, uncomfortable as he sips his energon cube and puts the empty wire-frame container thingee back on the bar top. "It's frustrating," he agrees. He's all set to head to the lab once Talazia is.

Red Alert tilts his head and finally speaks up. "Really? What makes you say that?" He hadn't noticed any abnormal rages that day at the fountain. Perhaps people had been spooked?

Talazia Keldahoff shrugs to Red Alert before getting up. "dunno. just seemed everyone was a bit ram happy after the rain. Grimlock, however, always seems a little ticked."

Red Alert dips his head, adding, "And he'd be none-too-pleased if Kup had just been knocked unconscious, as well." He picks up his cube and finally finishes it off before setting it down. Then he turns to the others. "If you'll excuse me, I have rounds to make. Good evening, all."

First Aid nods to the security director, "Sure thing, Red. Let us know if you need any help." To Talazia, the Protectobot says, "Shall we head to the lab? You can bring your soda with you."

Nightbeat finally finishes his shot, thinking. He lazily salutes Red Alert as he goes, and he tips his head back, calling to Talazia, "Thanks, darling. Lemme know if you remember anything else that seems relevant." The detective has some /flight plans/ to file, since they're all getting off to their tasks.

Talazia Keldahoff makes her way back towards the ventress. "Mindwipe can hypnotize, but is a lousy shot." She says before walking the exo into the lab.

First Aid waves to Nightbeat, "Stop by the lab if the energon gets to you," the doctor tells Nightbeat, knowing how bad energon hangovers can be - in particular the hangovers of a professional dick like Nightbeat. "Thank you very much for the energon," First Aid tells the bartender as he comes along to collect the empty energon cubes. He steps away from the bar and leads Talazia to the lab.

Talazia Keldahoff moves to the Orion Pax - Corridor - Fore.

Talazia Keldahoff has left. First Aid moves to the Orion Pax - Corridor - Fore.

First Aid has left.

Nightbeat looks vaguely offended. What, is the doc implying he can't hold his energon? He calls, "It was only three shots!" Pssh. Seriously. Why, he could walk a straight line now! But First Aid is gone.

Red Alert was... already heading out, anyway. He does so now.

Red Alert moves to the Orion Pax - Living Quarters.

Red Alert has left.