NCC Medical Ward

 

    The Crystal City repair bay is far larger than previous versions in Imperial Headquarters or Trypticon himself. Clearly it was designed by a medic, for a medic. The entire room is rectangular in nature with medical beds arranged in a neat grid pattern. The beds themselves vary, with some being precious little more than metal slabs, and others having full scanners and tools attached, as well as everything in between. In total, there are about twenty beds. There is room for more in an emergency situation. The cabinets line the walls, spaced out between medical terminals. Everything has a place, and organization is key. There are windows with thick transparent metal, allowing one to gaze out and see the wounded as they approach the hospital.

 

Contents:

 

Galvatron

Scrapper's Art <SA> - Thirteen Pieces

Gumby Medic <NCC>

Obvious exits:

South <S> leads to NCC Central Command.

Southeast <SE> leads to NCC Central Hub.

East <E> leads to Mount R'Lyeh.

 

Comcast has arrived.

 

Scourge arrives from the NCC Central Hub to the southeast.

Scourge has arrived.

 

Comcast is pacing about in the medical ward once more. He's consulting a datascreen waiting for a medic to arrive. On said screen, it has schematics for your standard Seeker, with the slight modification done to it (by Soundwave no less) for high-powered speakers to be installed in the chest. As always, Comcast likes to make the job that much easier for his medic by beginning the job as far as his technical abilities can take him.

 

Scrapper has a jet in the repair bay, actually. It's his table. Ah ha ha ha ha! Regardless, Scrapper would not approve of a Seeker trying to fix themselves. Only Junkions are allowed to do that. Scrapper walks into the medical bay, chatting it up with a gumby technician. "Fifty percent!" he says with glee. "The engine installation is just about perfect. Next we'll push it up a few more notches, and before you know it, we'll be ready to take the Despoiler on her maiden voyage... again." Scrapper coughs, remembering what happened during the LAST Despoiler maiden voyage. The gumby seems excited as well. Who wouldn't be? This is going to be awesome. Somewhat reluctantly, Scrapper decides he needs to worry about the patients, and so steps up to the first medical table - which happens to be Comcast's!

 

Scourge is sitting idly, at your standard medical ward table. His large blue legs dangling over the table, kicking against one another in boredom. Scourge is being unusually peaceful, and quiet as some random gumby medic performs basic repairs on his tangle with Rodimus a couple of cycles ago. Along with singing a few plates of armor into place, the medic also seems to have a pint of red paint. Which is odd for Scourge, considering the only thing even remotely close to that color, are his pinkish nails.

 

Comcast hands Scrapper his datascreen. "Hopefully I've done all the basics for you," He says to Scrapper. "I checked my credit rating, and I can /just/ afford a Grade 7 Omega Generator for my weapons systems." My, it's almost as if they have been talking about something before, isn't it?

 

Scrapper takes the datapad and quickly scans the math, muttering to himself as he's reminded of this procedure he has to dish out. "Right right... well, looks like you really can afford it. Congratulations." he says half-assedly. He spares a glance over to Scourge, but since another medic seems to be doing the job without being killed, Scrapper assumes all is well. Handing the datapad back to Comcast he says, "Now you remember all that I said about possible complications? Seekers of your generation weren't exactly known for their flexible power systems."

 

Comcast is completely unaware of the truth of the matter, although this is accurate as well. "Nonsense. I had a similar weapon before it was replaced with my current unit due to energon shortages. I shouldn't have a problem." And that, in and of itself, is true. But the problem is, however, that he has had so many repair jobs since then, and delicate parts that have been replaced have been done so with weaker versions, ones that would accomodate his weaker weapons, and not much more than. Comcast is completely unaware of this, and his schematics do not show this either. It's a standard Seeker schematic, which happens to have some alterations in the form of speakers on it.

 

The gumby medic begins to indent a marking into each of Scourges shoulders. One fairly small, about the size of a human arm no more than three feet or so. Yet still noticeable from a good distance. After this procedure, he begins to inject streams of bright red paint. To each of the newly formed indentations which are still smoking a bit from the powerful weapon, needed to pierce armor of Scourges caliber. Scourge just sighs as he watches. Even though he would like to scream about the length of time this is taking, best not to when one wrong move could leave him a fashion outtake.

 

Scrapper sighs and sees that there's going to be no persuading Comcast out of this. The Constructicon shrugs his green shoulders and takes a step back, gathering up the many tools and equipment needed for the operation. "Alright, but if this goes wrong, don't say I didn't warn you." He motions for Comcast up on the medical table. Scrapper begins assembling a small team of gumbies to help him out. Hrm, apparently this is a bigger operation than Comcast first thought. In all, five Transformers are now huddled around Comcast, surrounding and staring down at him (assuming he did get on he medtable) like he was a lab rat that might not survive the latest round of experiments. Scrapper looks at the other four. "Now remember, if something should go wrong, lets not get the law involved. One hand washes the other - Oh, that reminds me." Nic- I mean, Scrapper quickly cleans the Despoiler grease off his lime green hands.

 

Comcast was in fact lying on the medical ward. How amusing, he's starting to regret not running a full simulation of this. Too late to go back now though..

 

Scrapper and the other gumbies begin having a conversation around Comcast as if he wasn't here. "Will the hydraulic systems be able to compensate-" "-I'm not confident of a speedy recovery given the-" "-Speakers won't be able to compensate-" "-Grade 6 Omega might be better-" "-Replacement DCI Xo, just in case?-" Scrapper grunts at the gumby that said this last bit. The other four begin turning off Comcast's systems, but the Seeker will still be conveniently awake for the procedure so he can pose. "So, uh... hypothetically speaking, who would be your choice as replacement DCI XO?" He asks.

 

The medic finishes spraying the paint into the broad, and firm shoulders of the Master of darkness. Looking himself over, Scourge stands up with a grin. You can be mean now, he's finished. Scourge is all styled up for the new spring season. "Took you long enough..." His voice trails off, interrupted by the medical conference to his left by the grouping around Scrapper. Chuckling once to himself, he proceeds over. Only really making out the last part of the conversation. "Razorclaw, and Laserbeak will be informed. A battle to the death will take place for his position." There, thats the most logical and suitable answer for his direct replacement.

 

Comcast will assume that 'he' who Scrapper last mentioned asking in that pose would be Scrapper himself. Comcast just stands there as this total morale-boosting crowd prepare to open him up. "almost noone that would actually be approved by Reflector." he adds. He says nothing to Scourges addition to the discussion.

 

Scrapper looks over at Scourge as the Commander addresses them. He ponders the solution Scourge just gave. "So... Razorclaw then." He says, not having to spend long figuring out how a battle to the death between Raz and Laserbeak would be. He nods and turns back to Comcast. "That's the spirit." he says sarcastically. The Seeker will notice that he can no longer feel anything at or below the neck. Scrapper sighs. "No point in wasting time, I guess... hand me the saw." One of the gumbies hands him a rusty metal saw, and Scrapper moves out of Comcast's line of sight. and there's a loud *RrrrrrRRRrrr... Chrrerrrr.... RrrrrrrRRRrrr... Chrrrrerrrr...* But of course, Comcast can't move his neck to see what's going on. Sucker!

 

Scourge looks Comcast once over. "Yes. Razorclaw. Don't mess this one up, I need his evil propoganda like plots for domination of the universe." With that Scourge just leans back on his ankle, and heads out. Time to his 4:00 photo shoot.

 

Lovely. Scrapper is taking lessons in bedside manner from Fulcrum, it would seem. The Seeker makes an unthemely mental note to do something horrid to Scrapper with his alt sometime, while he waits for the repairs to be made.

 

Repairs? This is more than just repairs! Finally, Scrapper hands the saw off to someone else and removes the huge section of Comcast's torso armour. "So... how are you holding up there, Comcast?" he asks, even though it's pretty obvious he's only being polite. His real concentration is on the work at hand. Comcast can probably hear two sets of heavy footsteps, as if two big fellas are approaching. Or two small people carrying something heavy.

 

"Well, I can't really feel anything, or see what you're doing with those blunt instruments are, so... I could be better, I guess." Comcast says from his paralyzed state. He's starting to think all those warnings Scrapper were trying to give him were because he honestly didn't have the foggiest about what he was doing.

 

There's a squishie sound and Scrapper takes a step back. His hands are coated with mech fluid. "No no, it's probably for the best that you can't see anything." He says reassuringly. "Get the pump-vac over here," he mutters to one of the gumbies. "Now if you start to feel light-headed, don't worry. That's just your systems shutting down due to massive fluid loss, alright?" Scrapper asks before fiddling around with a few more things out of Comcast's line of sight.

 

Comcast is now officially panicced. "Internal fluids? What are you doing there? Can't you... closhe.. uppa.. ghhhh.. fuh." With that the Seeker's head lands on the side of the bed, the pale glow left in his optics trained on Scrapper. Their look? "WHY?"

 

Scrapper does actually know what he's doing, and things are progressing quite well. But Comcast doesn't know this, and Scrapper doesn't seem too inclined to explain everything at this point. "Close up? But you haven't gotten the new weapons power generator yet..." Scrapper pauses, looking back at Comcast's unmoving head. "Comcast? Comcast? Uh oh." Scrapper elbows a gumby who inserts an energon transfusion into Comcast's arm. This should keep Comcast mostly awake. "As I was saying, we're doing just fine." The heavy footsteps stop. "Ah, here we are." The gumbies all huddle around something out of Comcast's line of sight. Presumably the generator. "Sure that's it?" someone mutters in a hushed tone. "Six, seven, it's all the same, right?" "Maybe if we replace the 'six' sticker with a 'seven' sticker..." "No more, eh?" "Alright, it'll be fine." "Hey, is he still alive over there?" The five Decepticons return to Comcast.

 

Motormaster arrives from the NCC Central Command to the south.

Motormaster has arrived.

 

Comcast continues to lie there, opened up by a rusty saw, fluids everywhere, his head lying on a side with a very pale glow coming from his optics. There's probably something else going on with his internals, but he just can't see thanks to paralysis from the neck down. He can't really say anything either thanks to the lack of fluids, but he manages to create a more intensive glow from his optics when they query whether or not he is still alive.

 

Scrapper nods as Comcast's optics shine brighter. "Whew, now /that/ would have been embarassing, wouldn't it? Ha ha ha," Scrapper jokes, and the other four get a good chuckle out of it as well. "Say, is this generator even going to fit?" someone out of Comcast's line of sight asks. "Sure, just cram it in," another gumby replies. "But that might break his internal armouring system." "Oh, very well, /I'll/ do it." There's a grunt of effort, and a loud ~CRACK!~ "There, it's in." Scrapper and the other medics all mutter to each other, and Scrapper peers at Comcast. "So... Razorclaw, huh? He's not hard to get along with, right?"

 

I defeated him once for the position, Comcast thinks to himself. Rather than actually speak, some fluids spray from one of the connections Scrapper severed. On another matter, NOT HAVING ANYTHING TO DO WITH COMCAST'S REPAIR JOB, The Seeker has already figured out who his first test subject is going to be for his new weapon.

 

Motormaster trudges into the Medical Bay with the tip of his argent sword leading the way. He holds his weapon with his elbow and wrist flexed, so as to hold it completely horizontal. A rag, which might've been white in a former life, is now mottled with grey spots and brownish-red stains. Motormaster applies this cloth to the upper edge of his weapon and runs it along the length in a single forward stroke. Chrome weapons are such a chore to upkeep.

 

Comcast's heart bleeds.

 

Literally.

 

Motormaster can always make it bleed more.

 

Scrapper gasps as fluid sprays everywhere. "Argh! Clamp that down!" He shouts, and gumbies rush to turn off the leak. Scrapper snorts in annoyance and shakes his head. "Razorclaw... fine, fine." He mutters, getting used to the idea of having him back at the head of DCI. "Ok, Comcast, time for the /hard/ part." Scrapper, being the best technical guy out of all the gumbies, moves out of Comcast's line of sight and hunches over. There's a very quiet sound of a laser torch, but it's soft enough to realize that this is very fine, delicate work. A gumby walks over into Comcast's view to keep him occupied. "You know, your gun wasn't /that/ small..." He says. After about fifteen minutes, Scrapper finally begins closing up. As the armour plating is added back on, Scrapper frowns behind his faceplate. "Where's my scalpel?" he asks. All the gumbies look in every direction, but it doesn't get spotted. The Constructicon peers at where he just closed Comcast off. "Uh... nevermind... it's not that important." he says, switching Comcast's systems back on. "Don't do anything stressful for a while. In fact, don't move for a while. In fact, try not to blink too hard for a while."

       He doesn't notice Motormaster, but if Motormaster has been by the docks recently, he'll notice the addition of some massive engines that look just like however Motormaster ends up @descing them.

 

Comcast has no eyes, and therefore doesn't blink. Muahahaha! Pathetic flesh creatures and their eyelids! "MMm... mnaamnn..." he manages to mutter, as the energon loss isn't so bad now that he's patched up. "Test... shot.." me manages to say in anger, before levelling the weapon at one of the gumbies that Scrapper had with him. The one who suggested a replacement XO for DCI might be needed. He raises his arm, testing out the new, improved weapon systems, when >BZZZZzzzzzZZZZT< goes something internally. "NGAAAAAAAAAAH!" Comcast cries out, as his entire body spasms from the failed attempt at a shot. It appears things didn't go as smoothly as hoped. Stupid upgrades. Stupid Scrapper. "What... happened?"

 

Scrapper steps aside so that Comcast can shoot at the gumby, but doesn't appear all that surprised when it fails horribly and just causes Comcast a whole lot of pain in the first degree. Snickering softly (along with all the gumby techies, including the target of this test), Scrapper explains. "I /told/ you not to move, you glitch. It's going to take a while for you to recover from this. Until then, I don't want you so much as sitting upright. Now if, after you've recovered, you're /still/ having the problem, we can see what we can do." Scrapper sure hopes that doesn't happen, 'cause doesn't really know what they can do about it.

 

"You're an idiot, Comcast." Motormaster snorts after a moment's worth of observation. "That's what happened." He brings the rag back along the swordedge, only to give it another forward stroke before finishing the act altogether. His left arm snaps out, tossing the rag into the appropriate to-be-cleaned bin. Motormaster dips the tip of his weapon, lowering it into a diagonal position. "How you manage to exist.. is a frightening exception to the laws of cosmic common sense."

 

"Motormaster.. if someone told you I cared.. they lied." The Seeker says from his bed, hoping that the Stunticon doesn't find things in here too interesting. If he's going to be bedridden for a while, it better not be with Moto around. "Fine, Scrapper, I'll stay here for a while. If it doesn't work.. well, lets just hope that it works, I guess." Hopefully Razorclaw isn't /too/ heartbroken about not being given the XO job again.

 

Scrapper nods to Comcast, looking just a tad worried about his comrade's fate. I mean, if Comcast were to be screwed due to this, Scrapper would feel kinda bad for it, y'know? He'd get over it since he's an evil Decepticon, but hey. Scrapper doesn't laugh at Motormaster's joke, but that's just because he's concerned about his repair work. "See that you do," he tells Comcast about staying here. "In 24 hours you can try another test. Hopefully with me around so we can make sure it worked properly. This was not an easy procedure, Comcast." He says. Scrapper's modest enough to mean that he isn't just bragging. Course, if the other greenies were here he'd brag his ass off.

 

Comcast groans slightly.. almost some concern from the Constructicon at last. "Twenty... four..." huh, he's had a fair amount of energon leak from him. "You there," he says pointing to one of the gumbies. "Eighty astrolitres of Energon. Now." Not that he's in any position to enforce his orders or anything.. for now.

 

Motormaster stares at Comcast for a moment. "Holy sh**, Comcast." He remarks, "Your weapons systems can't even comprehend your own stupidity. That must be the problem. Scrapper, get back into his chest cavity and make sure his powerplant has a converter that translates for MORON. Otherwise, he'll just be prematurely failing at everything he does." Motormaster pauses for a moment, ".. oh wait, he does that -already-. Nevermind."

 

If it Translates moron, does that mean Moto will understand what it means when Comcast shoots him?

 

The gumby isn't about to disobey Comcast, bedridden or not. He's still a medic, afterall. After a brief look at Dr. Scrapper, who nods, the gumby goes to get the energon for Comcast. Scrapper snickers at Motormaster's insult and quickly cleans off the mech fluid he got from fixin' up Comcast. The gumbies'll make sure he doesn't move anything. "Well, I'm off to check on the Despoiler." He casts an optic towards Motormaster. "We've got the engine output at fifty percent. Won't be long until we're ready for her maiden flight." Again. The last maiden voyage for the Despoiler created circumstances requiring Motormaster to impale both Scavenger and Scrapper in the chest with his sword. Good times, those were.

 

If you look hard enough, you might see the tiniest evidence of a smile on Motormaster's face. He, too, reflects fondly on the Despoiler's maiden voyage. Good times. Good times.

 

Comcast groans once more, his strength starting to build as his energon levels top up. "That's /exactly/ what it is, Motormaster." he says flatly. "I guess I'll trust your opinion, given your record as such a skilled technician and medic." Sheesh. This is going to take a while..