Smoking Wounds

Summary: (June 2031) Smokestack and Harrow discuss form, function and fashion while he is put back together.

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.

Contents: Harrow Hook's workshop [HS] Hackjob Grey Book Of Primus White Book Of Primus Medical Rules

Obvious exits: Out [O] leads to Tetrahex. South [S] leads to NCC Spinal Pathway. West [W] leads to NCC Arena.

Smokestack shambles tiredly into the medical ward, his soot black plating caved in, melted and torn from multiple plasma bursts, a huge explosive shell and what looks like a blade the size of a small transformer. Steam leaks fitfully from his side and coughs in small jerks from his twin stacks, boiling water dripping down his side. He is, bluntly, a mess.

Harrow appears to be working on a large project in the corner... something that involves a /lot/ of cardboard. Upon hearing Smokestack enter, she flails at the amount of fluids he leaves in his wake and rushes over to put up a slipping-danger sign near the door. "Primus! Did you fall off a bridge or something? Get on the slab!" she urges, pulling out her scanner.

The towering trainform says in a low, rolling voice “I met a very interesting Autobot. Larger than I am in robot mode, and with alt mode parts that did not seem to mesh well with each other. Some sort of triple changer.” He slowly lays down on a slab with a grunt, adding after a moment “With a very large axe. I am Smokestack. Who are you?”

Harrow doesn't seem to hear Smokestack straight away, having climbed up on the slab to better survey the damage. Whipping out a very large drill attached to a cord, she sets to work cracking open the armor that hasn't been obliterated. "Axe... That was probably Broadside." With an arc welder and copious amounts of sparks, she manages to seal up the steam. "Harrow. What's your function?"

Combat: Harrow prepares Smokestack for surgery, his COMBAT flag has been waived.

Combat: Your COMBAT flag has been cleared.

Smokestack relaxes slightly as the flow of steam from his damaged side chokes off, the unsettling awareness of losing pressure and water reserves dimming somewhat. His internals are mostly the usual cybertronian technology but with a few unusual odds and ends; brass coloured steam pipes and a central furnace that radiates heat. “I am a transport... when necessary. I can carry a transformer in my cab... perhaps two. If they are small. I have trucks to carry more, or freight...” His voice hitches slightly as the welder touches something. “I collect technology. Diverse. Ancient.”

"Tech fan mmm? You're in luck then. The labs are always getting new shipments of the best tools. Not ancient, granted, but very advanced." Harrow crouches on his middle and reconnects severed fuel lines, as well as melding that large axe wound. "Quite lucky this missed your head! You best with hand-to-hand or ranged?" She straightens up again, making a once-over. "You've got some interesting parts in there. Very retro."

Combat: Harrow expertly repairs Smokestack's injuries.

Combat: Harrow is able to repair some of Smokestack's internal systems damage.

“I work best at close range. A flamethrower for short range, and I am accustomed to simply running smaller machines down beneath my wheels.” Smokestack gradually relaxes as his wounds are patched up and plating repaired, the threads of steam leaking from his stacks becoming cleaner white and gaining in volume a little. “I prefer the appearance of ancient technology. It is solid, powerful, and enduring. Modern machines change too fast. Each new model is superseded by a better one less than an orbit later. Alt modes change like the fabric coverings these human creatures cover themselves in. I distrust fashion.”

Harrow must chuckle, finally climbing down from the slab. "Enduring, hm? Older tech? That's debatable. But I'm speaking mostly of medical tech. Mechs change altmodes for efficiency... seeing as it's a strenuous and expensive process! Changing them for /fashion/ would be very, very foolish. I assume you've always been a train. Welp! You're as patched up as I can get you. You'll have to stay stationary for a little bit."

The soot black mech finally gave the seeker an amused half smile and added “We all have our aesthetic preferences. Besides, I have adapted to the taste of coal. Not that I can’t ingest energon like anyone else, but coal is something of an acquired habit now.” Carefully levering himself up from the table, he drew additional water reserves from his subspace storage reserves to help top up his tanks. “You are a very skilled surgeon, Harrow. I consider myself fortunate to have happened upon you.” Gesturing to the pile of cardboard, he inquired “What is that which you are constructing?”

Harrow is not very familiar with such compliments, and blinks with a faint smile. "Well thanks! I gotta' say, conversing with a train so well-spoken is rather refreshing. Astrotrain has given your types /quite/ a reputation. Avoid him if you can..." She looks over to the pile. "Scrapper had instructed me to create flight-ready parts out of cardboard. Fairly sure he is simply screwing with me. But it's fun nonetheless. I get to test the parts on my unfortunate wingmate, Artifice. Meaning, I get to toss him off of buildings."

Smokestack grunted, his lip curling faintly. “I’ve heard his name often since I came to this world. It seems that there are few of my kind, and he has blazed his image into the collective memory. I’ve never met him, and I know little of his personality, only his capabilities.” Pushing himself off the slab, he crossed the room with ringing footsteps and crouched down slowly beside the pile of parts. “He could be attempting to prototype new flight forms with these flimsy materials before he properly constructs an entire altmode. Else they might be intended for use as a disguise, to create a flightmode profile for a machine that has a different altmode.”