Feeling the Heat and Making Deals

Combaticon Headquarters
TF2005 - Saturday, June 08, 2013, 6:14 PM

Armory - Combaticon Base

      This is the part of the room that contains the things that go bang in the night, day, and often in the middle of the afternoon. A variety of lockers, cabinets, and metal boxes have been arranged in the room to provide whomever can get through the thickened steel and optical scanner sealed door with whatever additional munitions, weapons, or ammunition they may need. In addition to all this supplies four lockers have been arranged in a row in an alcove on the right side of the room each with a name painted onto them in alphabetical order.

Contents:

Swindle

Swindle's Decepticon Emporium 

Obvious exits:

   South  leads to Garage - Combaticon Base.



Blast Off   walks into the Armory, making a point to look as casual as possible. He needs to ask Swindle for a favor, and that is something that might make OTHER mechs nervous, but not him. No, not at all. The feeling of turbo-butterflies in his energon tank is not nerves. No, it's..... excitement! Yes, anticipation for when he gets his repairs and can fly through space once again. He stops as he greets his fellow Combaticon with an "Ah, Swindle."



 Blast Off is logging.



<p class="MsoNormal">Just why do the Combaticons allow a mech like Swindle handle the majority of their logistics? Because for every dirty sneaky rotten thing Swindle is, when he does his job he's just That. Damn. Good. at it. No one knows their weapons and the munitions needed for them better. So when he's not out wheeling and dealing the easiest place to find him is making sure the armory is restocked. Even if it takes a few extra kicks to close Brawl's locker because of all the other junk the team moron hides in it. "Freshly charged packs for your ionizer are in your storage trunk already," Swindle replies to hearing his name without looking up. He figures Blast Off will just be in and out as usual like the ominous lone sniper he is.

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<p class="MsoNormal">Blast Off hovers nearby instead of leaving and crosses his arms, leaning against the wall. "Good, I will pick those up before I go." He pauses like he's wondering the exact words he should use. "Swindle, I need to... make an upgrade. I've been informed that my heat shields are cracking." Wait, should he have said "need"? Maybe "want"... no, that wouldn't be much better. He does think to add: "It's to improve the strength of our team. Onslaught relies on me to provide space transport and if I'm unable to make it into space, that becomes a problem- for all of us."

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<p class="MsoNormal">Swindle pulls out a datapad and starts ticking off things as he goes down it. "Missile warheads, check. Chaingun belts and glue canisters, check. Shell detonators an--ehuh?" Swindle snaps his head up to look back, partially at Blast Off still being there in the first place, and partially at what he said. "Cracking? Standard wear and tear from orbital transit and re-entry shouldn't be wearing it down that quickly."

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<p class="MsoNormal">Blast Off   fidgets ever-so-slightly. "It's... some of my recent battles. Apparently some of those Auto-fools got lucky and happened to hit me in just the right way to begin damaging my heat shield. They are, of course, usually incredibly pathetic target-shooters, but I suppose even morons must get lucky sometimes," he huffs. "The last time I re-entered Earth's atmosphere, my shields barely held up. My sensors indicated something was wrong, but like you, I find this whole thing hard to believe. But the medics confirmed that the silica tiles and Reinforced carbon-carbon of my heat shields are both beginning to...(*another pause*) give way." He leans in a bit towards Swindle. "I believe it also has to do with the fact that we were stuck in these pathetic Earth-based forms. *I* did what I could do. I don't know if you remember that that idiot Starscream put MY personality component in a WWII Bomber plane!" He snorts derisively. "I would have none of *that* nonsense, of course (*sniff*), and I changed to a space shuttle immediately. But the fact remains that we were placed in these earth-based bodies." He tilts his head at Swindle. "Is there any way to replace this inadequate Earth technology for a better, Cybertronian-based one?"

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<p class="MsoNormal">"Ah, that would do it. Standard heat shielding isn't really battle hearty." Swindle crossed one arm to rest the other elbow on it and tap his chin with a digit thoughtfully. "Most of your shielding internalizes in robot mode, but a chance hit in the right spot in shuttle mode could cause it to start destabilizing. Especially if it was some type of explosive round. Shatter city. It's made to bust or burn away instead of breaking inward and doing greater damage." He shrugs a bit. "Give the dead mech some credit, he did a smash up job with what he had to work with at the time."

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<p class="MsoNormal">There's a long, uncomfortable pause. Swindle darts optics one way, then the other way.

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<p class="MsoNormal">Then slumps against the storage lockers as he starts laughing. "I can't keep a straight face up after saying something like that! Hahaha. Give Starscream credit. Pfffff."

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<p class="MsoNormal">Blast Off looks at Swindle like he's insane for a moment, until Swindle reveals the joke. "Ah." He nods his head and even manages a chuckle. "That idiot was all ambition but no intellect and no patience." He shakes his head. "If one really wanted to overthrow someone like Megatron, or even Galvatron, you'd..." he shakes his head again, but this time it's something else. (A certain "loyalty program", perhaps?) He puts his hand up to the top of his face and his optics blink. "Anyway, where was I? Ah, yes. Can you do something, Swindle?"

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<p class="MsoNormal">Swindle hmms. "Probably don't want to mess too much with the heat shielding itself, it's made to do what it does the best way possible and changing that might make it less effective at what it needs to do. Crematics are easier to replace as they burn off, anyways." He holds up hand to stop the objection that's likely about to come. "I'm sure you're thinking 'But Swindle, what can we do then?'. To which I would say 'Who says we need to change what's on the surface?'." With one of his charming yet snakeoil greasy smirks he turns and trots back towards his personal stall/barracks. "It's what's between the heat shield and you that's become passe and not able to stand up to the stress of extended combat confrontations. To which you would be right about prehaps applying some Cybertronian know-how instead. You need something made of sterner stuff."

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<p class="MsoNormal">Blast Off does indeed make to protest at Swindle's first statement, then calming as Swindle continues on. Hmmm. Maybe "calm" isn't exactly the word, as he realizes this is about where Swindle dangles the hook and his quarry swallows: hook, line, and sinker, as the fleshlings would say, isn't it? Blast Off has also watched Swindle at work often enough to know that charming smile should be viewed with caution. "And what do I need?" he asks without enthusiasm.

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<p class="MsoNormal">Maybe familiarity is why Swindle isn't laying the charm on as thick as he could. No, it's a bit different when it comes to other Decepticons. Especially his teammates, considering they all know each other prehaps a lot more closely than they would prefer. Then again, familiarity is why he pretty much ignores the flateness in Blast Off's tone, because that's pretty typical for him. Gotta always appear so cold and distant. "Well, if I was to make a suggestion." Swindle pauses to push aside a trunk with his foot, revealing what is probably only one of many hidden compartments knowing him. "I would suggest polymer weave matrix beneath the heatshielding. Something that can interrupt attacks without hindering the crematics needing to be able to ablate when it comes to defusing re-entry thermal radiance. It's kind of like how the fleshlings will wear anti-ballistic material beneath normal clothing. The heat shields won't hinder the attack, but the cybertronian mesh beneath it will."

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<p class="MsoNormal">You say, "Indeed." Blast Off considers this for a moment, looking at the product Swindle is showcasing. It seems sound, and while he doesn't trust Swindle blindly, he does believe that what Swindle is telling him now is probably true. If for no other reason than if Swindle were to sell him an inferior product then the next time Blast Off tried to enter planetary orbit, he might well burn up- and possibly take Swindle with him if they happened to be on a mission together! So no, it would not be in Swindle's best interest to try to sell him a dud. The product will be good, but this leads to the big question- what about the price? Blast Off maintains his air of indifference (don't want to look too interested), leaning back against the wall like this is almost boring him. "And how will I obtain this?""

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<p class="MsoNormal">Those thoughts would be pretty much on the ball. Swindle has a vested interest of his own in this matter, even if neither of them want to admit it personally.

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<p class="MsoNormal">"See, that's the thing." Swindle pulls the canister fully out of the compartment and stands up. "This is only a metallurgic sample I've managed to stash away, there's not enough of it to coat an entire transformer but the composition formula is here." He turns the canister over so Blast Off can see the label in Cybertronian text on the other side. "But if one could procure the right materials, there's more than enough technicians and mad scientists in this army to replicate it I wager."

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<p class="MsoNormal">Blast Off sighs slightly through his vents. Ah, so this is to be a retrieval of sorts. At least now he has some idea of what lies ahead. Or...he thinks he does? "And I take it you would like me to procure the materials for you?" His violet-gray optics gaze steadily at the other Combaticon, watching him. "Where would I find them?"

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<p class="MsoNormal">If it had been someone else Swindle might of been concerned at that swift revelation, but in this case he just chuckles softly at it. "I knew you would catch on quickly my friend." He passed over the canister so Blast Off could get a closer look. "Actually, for the most part it's fairly common materials, but there is one or two rare components that can't just be pulled out of storage. But I'm sure that with Cybertron revitalizing itself as it has recently, someone with a sharp set of scanners would be able to detect a corrisponding resource dump from orbit." The way Swindle says that highly suggests that he's already tried looking on the ground and didn't have much luck. Would explain a few things.

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<p class="MsoNormal">Blast Off   is glad Swindle can see his brilliance. He doesn't have much patience for beating around the bush. Might as well get to the point, especially when they both know where this is headed- Blast Off doing (just about) whatever Swindle wants him to do so Blast Off can be a functioning space shuttle again. But wait... orbit? Blast Off's optics glitch almost imperceptibly. "By orbit I take it you mean flying through the upper reaches of the atmosphere? I..." This is hard for the space shuttle to admit. He leans towards Swindle with another flash of the optics, slightly more menacing this time, and raises a finger as he furtively glances about the room. "This is not something I want spread around. I am currently forbidden to enter space orbit, given the state of my shields. I've..." Argh. Oh, the hit to the ego this is turning into...he can barely spit out the words. "I... had. to. take a shuttle myself to get from Cybertron to here."

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<p class="MsoNormal">Somehow Swindle manages an expression that is sympathetic and yet slightly smug looking at the same time. "Oh that has got to be a bit humbling. Though you could just tell anyone that saw you debarking that your concerning energon." Swindle puts an arm around Blast Off's shoulders to lead him back towards the armory entrance. "I'm sure you could do the same search from suborbital altitude, it will just take a bit more time to cover the same amount of ground, that's all."

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<p class="MsoNormal">One has to wonder if Swindle didn't just say 'from orbit' to actually hear Blast Off admit to something potentially humiliating before giving him an alternate solution. Just be glad it wasn't someone that actually deals in blackmail.

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<p class="MsoNormal">.. Usually.

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<p class="MsoNormal">Blast Off sputters a bit as Swindle leads him to the door. He hasn't felt this humiliated in a while and it's hard to think of anything worthwhile to say. Blast Off is actually an intelligent individual, but his ego is bigger than he is, and when it flounders- so does he. Besides, he has provided far more exposition during this meeting in the armory than he has probably spoken in the last month. Perhaps he's just verbally worn out. Yes, that's it. He looks at Swindle and wonders if he was just swin...no, that's not possible. Blast Off is too smart for the businessmech, after all, no matter how crafty the Jeep *thinks* he is. The shuttle pauses near the doorway to regain some sense of composure. He holds up the vial, sensors detecting the trace chemicals and composition of the material. "Yes. This should not be very hard to find. It's not IDEAL, of course, given..my (*small voice*) condition... but I will manage. If it was anyone else, I would doubt their ability but I'll find this and return it- to you, I suppose?"

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<p class="MsoNormal">Swindled? No. Get someone else to do the work because they wanted something? Yes. Swindle gain himself a bit of amusement at getting an admission to something that would otherwise never come from this mech's mouthplate? Hell yes. But all he does is smile as he steps back and folds his hands behind his back. "I wouldn't ask the task of a mech of lesser skill and tenacity. An investiment in your survivability is an investiment in -our- survivability, just as you said." There's another one of those uncomfortable pauses, though thankfully not as long. "... Well okay and if the mesh compound is successfully replicated I know a few cosmic black markets that would pay top credit for such a material."

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<p class="MsoNormal">Blast Off   raises an optic ridge. Ah, of course Swindle will find a way to profit from anything. And wait-a-minute: *IF* it's successfully replicated??! Does this mean Blast Off is going to be Swindle's guinea pig with this compound? Normally Blast Off would launch straight into a litany of questions and possibly some insults, too, but right now... he's feeling tired, humiliated, and like he should probably just go and do what Swindle wants before the Jeep somehow (accidentally, certainly) gets him to admit another deep, dark secret. At least Swindle's words soothe Blast Off's slightly injured ego. Manipulation? Probably. But he'll just go with it this time. It's easier. "I'm glad we agree on my suitability for the job. Very well, I will let you know as soon as I've found sufficient quantities of each material." He looks at Swindle and wonders if anyone (besides the Jeep) will ever truly know what's going on inside that head of his. But as long as Swindle's a Combaticon, Blast Off decides he doesn't really care. As much trouble as Swindle can be for his teammates, he's an invaluable military resource, trouble for the Autobots, and, well, a respected teammate. (Again, not admitting that last part. Ever.)

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