Long Haul arrives from the IHQ Central Chamber to the west.

Long Haul has arrived.

Scrapper is standing next to a terminal, explaining something to a rather downcast gumby. He rambles, all false politeness, "So you see, your appointment is for April 21, not April 12!"

The gumby stares at the screen skeptically, expression dour. "But... but... I could have sworn it was for the 12th..."

"Nope!" Scrapper answers, almost singsong, and shoos the gumby out of the way. That done... now, where is Long Haul?

Here is Long Haul!

The Constructicon walks in the door carrying NOTHING AT ALL. Not even his mug. Of course, the old one was sunk with Trypticon, but he's probably requisitioned himself a replacement by now. There /are/ perks to being a supply type, after all, even if he does generally hate his job. The transporter is walking a bit prouder then usual, and seems unusually pleased with himself. Like maybe he's been beating up members of other combiner teams or something.

Scrapper glances over at Long Haul. He's rather nervous about this, truth be told. Yes, Scrapper knows the schematics of his brothers better than most mechanisms know their own, but the whole combining aspect adds a huge layer of complexity. Not only does he need to rejig Long Haul's internals, but he needs to do so in a fashion that won't negatively impact Devastator. Still, Scrapper puts on a brave look and gestures over to an operating table. "Long Haul, right over there."

And Long Haul, despite the fact that he's presently pleased at punch for having shown Vortex what-for, is actually nervous as well. Luckily, he doesn't have a face, or it would show. After all, while he'd trust his brothers with his life, upgrades, messing around with the things that make Long Haul Long Haul... well, it wouldn't be the first time. There WAS the upgrade that gave him the ability to combine, and while Long Haul would never give up being part of Devastator for anything, it's not like /that/ little event went quite like planned. He gives a single nod and heads over to the table, hesitating only a moment before climbing up. "Erm. Sure," he answers, managing to keep /most/ of his nervousness out of his voice.

Scrapper paces over to the indicated table. First off, Long Haul is his brother. Second off, Long Haul is a critical component of their combined form, Devastator. Third off, Scrapper recently lost a great number of things near and dear to him. So despite the fact that Long Haul is his brother and thus annoying, Scrapper's going to be extra-extra careful about this. He's about to say, 'Long Haul, go get these parts,' when he thinks better of it and passes off the list to one of the ubiquitous gumbies. "Straps, sedation, motor systems disabled... got any particular choice?" Glue would also serve to keep Long Haul in place, but we're not going to go there.

"Uhm..." Long Haul hemms as he considers. He doesn't want to be out for the count, because that's the wussy choice, but at the same time... "Not sure straps'll be enough," he muses aloud. "Better disable the motors." Then his optic band flutters as he receives a radio transmission from someone whose voice he doesn't recognize. "Wha-the! Grah!" and with that he shuts off his receiver.

Long Haul switches off his radio.

Scrapper gives Long Haul a bit of an odd look but shrugs. He leans over his brother to pry open a few panels. That done, the engineer desolders Long Haul's main somatic motor control line and puts temporary plastic caps on both ends so that nothing accidentally shorts out and causes a mess. Scrapper says, tone absent rather than warning, "You do know that this might hurt a bit?"

"Yeah? And?" Long Haul answers, a tone of, 'No duh!' hinted at in his voice. With his motors disabled, there is no other means for him to express himself. No face, no body language... his voice is all he has left, and now, for a moment, he starts to feel trapped in his own body, the same way he's been trapped in his job for millions of years. "Jus' get it right, huh? I can deal with pain."

"I fully intend to," Scrapper replies, perhaps a tad grimmer than is entirely comforting, and looks at Long Haul a little disapprovingly. Does he tell Long Haul how to stack stuff? Wait, yes, he does. Nevermind. The supplies gumby isn't back with the parts yet, but Scrapper needs to get the rest of Long Haul opened up, anyway. Given his fellow Constructicon's thick armour, he selects a crowbar for the task and goes to work.

Long Haul can't see the crowbar yet, and perhaps this is for the best. So instead he just grunts and tries to make himself as comfortable as possible... except he CAN'T move. Dammit. "Good," he answers, wondering if there's anyway he can get on the light-limited list (and therefore off hauling duties) for a bit thanks to this. Probably not.

<KNUJ> Pile-Up appears after a brief sweep of the KNUJ Logo, smiling into the screen "Hey there folks! Don't touch that Dial, this is Pile-Up with general news and Sponky The Wonder Monkey on news!  KNUJ offering new job oppertunities to Mechs, Femmes, and Humans alike!  More after this commercial break!" a fade out to an image of a... farm... with bushes sprouting tacos, a Junk in an amish outfit standing, staring into the camera "Ayuh, with the new Pile-Industries Taco Farm, world hunger may be solved... ayuh... Come down to our Central California location, we have Spicey Baja, all the way to Bland n Nummy..." cut to a human kid munching a taco "Tacoriffic!"

Scrapper is busy opening up Long Haul's lower legs, upper arms, and chest at the moment. Scratch that. He's opening up almost all of Long Haul. After all, the hauler'll need quicker reaction time sin both modes, and his alternate mode bits get rather spread out in robot mode, and vice versa. Once the armour has been peeled open, Scrapper starts pushing away the layers of sensors and wires. The engineer is very, very careful about all this, but he's not gentle, and if something's jammed in place, one can bet that he's going to yank it out without just below the force needed to break it.

<KNUJ> Pile-Up returns after several more commercials looking into the camera "A program hosted by several members of the Junkions is being offered to Humans,  come to KNUJ! Bring your resumes,  and we'll see what positions we have, positions ranging from reporter slots, to possible crew on an expedition by the Swordbreaker!  But hurry! It will end next Sunday! SUNDAY! Sunday!  Bring your kids and meet Boss Hog of the Dukes of Hazard!  Decent pay and benefits..."

"Yee... grah!" Long Haul grunts involuntarily as his brother removes his armor and then starts moving around the exposed sensors. Such an action, given that the sensors are still on, can produce little else than pain, after all. Still, he doesn't complain, or say anything, because to do so would be to display a weakness that he's not willing to show. "Y'better know whatcher doin'," he still gripes, although it's more out of habit then anything else.

"Of course I do," Scrapper insists, sounding a tad miffed. "You've got a Constructicon here, not some common hack." He pokes one of the exposed sensors. "I could turn these off, but then I could accidentally punch a hole in your fuel pump, and surely, you'd rather know if I did that than not know?" After that pause, Scrapper continues to push away layers of components.

You say, "Of course I do," Scrapper insists, sounding a tad miffed. "You've got a Constructicon here, not some common hack." He pokes one of the exposed sensors. "I could turn these off, but then I could accidentally punch a hole in your fuel pump, and surely, you'd rather know if I did that than not know?" After that pause, Scrapper continues to push away layers of components."

Long Haul's optics flicker wildly and he cries out again as Scrapper pokes his sensor directly. Dammit, why does it hurt this much? These things don't hut this much normally! But then, normally no one's accessing his sensors directly, and they're tuned down so as to better accompany his job. But right here and now, everything is raw. Had he been cleverer and less distracted by the pain, he /might/ have made a comment about Scrapper being an /uncommon/ hack, but sadly, he isn't, so instead just grumbles, "Yeah... uhm, yeah. I'd rather know."

"Good," Scrapper says, in a tone that might have been cheery some other year but isn't today. He sets into removing parts now - joints, actuators, sensors - all the components tied into reaction time and agility. There's a rustling from over in stores that says the supply gumby should be back soon. That, or he just dumped a shelf on his head.

Not that Long Haul can tell, because he can't turn his head. Dammit, that idiot had better not have broken any of his parts. And by 'his parts,' he means both parts that are going to go into him, and parts that he otherwise might have to replace. The transporter makes a mental note to double-check that cabinet when he's done (stupid incompetent transporters making more work for the folks who know how to do their job *grumble grumble*) before that thought is washed away by another wave of pain. DAMMIT! WHY DOES THIS HURT SO MUCH?

It hurts so much because your brother is an utter git, Long Haul! Hey, buildings don't scream when you fix them (mostly). Scrapper finishes pulling out parts and now has a tidy heap of Long Haul-bits on a tray on an adjacent table. Hey, if strung up those piezoelectric sensors on top of that gearhead motor, he could make a really nifty desk decoration!

Of course, the supply gumby shows up just then, distracting Scrapper from idle artistic contemplation and bringing him back to the task at hand. The gumby hrms and hands the list back to Scrapper. He shakes his head and says, "A lot of weird parts, there. Hadda to go through half the boxes in the stores."

"You better've put everything back where you found it," Long Haul snarls despite the fact that he's hardly in a position to be making threats. After all, he may be completely helpless and utterly vulnerable at the moment, but soon enough he's going to go back to being good ol' tough, strong, and somewhat /less/ slow Long Haul, and he's not going to look favorably on any fool gumby who gives him even more work to do.

The gumby looks startled that the patient is addressing him, what with his current state of being opened up and pulled apart, and winces. He glances back over at the stores and says quickly, "I'll just go do that, then!" The gumby scurries away.

Scrapper seizes up one of the parts and considers it thoughtfully. He announces, as if Long Haul really wants to know this kind of junk, "It was rather tricky to figure out the right parts for you, you know. Gestalt concerns aside, your particular design requires very high torque servos, and getting both torque and speed is about as easy as drinking your energon and having it, too."

"Uhm, yeah, Scrapper. I bet it was," Long Haul answers, trying (and failing) to sound like he cares, and like he understands just what the slag his brother is talking about in the first place. Really, when it comes right down to it, things like this are every bit as magical as Mixmaster's mysterious drum, and every bit as beyond his ability to comprehend. Teasing and needling aside, this is one of those areas where he simply trusts to his brother's abilities, just like his brothers (despite their grumbling) /should/ realize that, when the chips are down, if something needs to be hauled, well, he'll do it (despite /his/ grumbling).

"And it's not like we've got an excess of dump truck parts around here," Scrapper continues, picking up a datapad. He selects a cable, slots one end into the datapad, and the other end into one of Long Haul's circuit boards. The engineer explains simply, "Controller code for the new parts. Now, some of the parts had to be specially fabbed."

Long Haul grumbles something about having never wanted to be a dump truck, but his words are cut short when the information download begins. While not as painful as having his naked, vulnerable sensors prodded directly, the experience is strange none-the-less. To have bits and pieces- minor bits, but still- of his programming added to or in some cases overwritten entirely is a disconcerting feeling, at best.

Scrapper taps Long Haul on the head and queries, "Everything downloaded okay?" He starts prepping the new parts for install, actually thankful that for some reason no gumbies are trying to assist. It was a pain the last time that happened, and Scrapper's really not in the mood for unneeded annoyance at the moment.

"Uhm, yeah. Think so," Long Haul answers, wondering absently how he'd be able to tell if it isn't. "Not gettin' any error warnings, anyway, so that means it's okay, right?" The Constructicon sounds a bit uncertain. After all, last major upgrade he had that went wrong... well, he's still not so sure what all that did to him. It's really kind of hard to remember clearly.

"Checks out on the datapad's side," Scrapper notes. Of course, there are times when it looks like a transfer went fine, and it didn't. Well, if Long Haul goes into involuntary convulsions once he gets the new parts in, that'll certainly answer the question. So to that end, Scrapper starts to wire in the new components. A dash of solder here, a length of heat shrink tubing there, and Long Haul starts to look less gutted, not that he's in any shape to appreciate it yet.

It's a damned good thing that Long Haul can't move right now, because if he could, he'd probably be cringing like a sissy at once more having his internals. And being caught doing anything like a sissy, especially by his brother, would really, really piss him off. He's not this sensitive, dammit! "Tha's... uhm... tha's good to hear," he mumbles, still working to keep up some sort of facade of his usual tough-guy self.

Scrapper just nods and continues to wire in the new parts and also starts to fix them in place, mostly by welding them. He may have cut Long Haul's voluntary motor control, but there's no involuntary convulsions, so Scrapper will call this good. While waiting for one weld to cool, he leans over, waves a hand in front of his brother's optic band, holding a severed finger - where did he get that, anyway? - and asks, "How many fingers am I holding up?"

It takes a few moments for Long Haul to focus on what Scrapper's saying and what, exactly, is being held in front of his optic band. Well, that's nice, looks like he's already started a new collection of art supplies. "Uh," he answers. No, wait, that's not right. "Uhn," he tries again. No, dammit! "One," he finally says.

"Right." Ah, so Scrapper hasn't grievously botched this job (not that he was expecting to). Downright spiffy. If Long Haul is having a bit of trouble enunciating, Scrapper pays it no heed. He doesn't expect great vocal skills out of this brother, after all. He finishes up the last wiring connections and structural joints and starts to put the components he shoved out of the way back in order. Does this mean poking at Long haul's unshielded sensors again? Why yes, it does.

Which means another wave of excruciating pain for the transporter! Yay! "Grrr-yaargh!" Long Haul exclaims, to express his joy that the procedure is being brought to a close, before he finally just gives up and shuts down his vocalizer entirely. His optic band, however, stays on, although it can be seen to flicker wildly as Scrapper works.

Scrapper glances over at Long Haul and pauses. He does a quick check over his work. No, nothing's wrong, and he did ask Long Haul at the start if he wanted sedatives and also mentioned that this would likely hurt. The engineer shrugs and continues to put his brother back in order. He pauses on the last one and pokes at it a little moreso than he really needs to and asks hazily, "Still sure you didn't want sedatives?"

Long Haul tries to answer, "Yes," then remembers that he shut his vocalizer off. So he reactivates it. It starts with static, then a squeal, then he hisses out, "Yesssss... I'm sssure..." before shutting it back down again. Dammit, he could almost swear Scrapper was doing this on purpose!

"If you say so." If Scrapper was doing this on purpose, he'd have gotten out a rusty scalpel and... ahem. No, this is just unthinking gittyness, the sort of morbid curiosity that leads one to tear the wings off a spy drone and then poke at it with sticks, just to see what happens. Satisfied that the sensor is back in place, the engineer attends to nigh final task of putting Long Haul's armour back into sorts.

With his protective armor being returned to where it should be, Long Haul decides to once again reactivate his vocalizer. His optic band, however, is a bit dimmer than normal and if he could have moved his head at all, it'd be slumped to the side. The transporter can take quite a beating, true, but it's not like he goes into normal combat with raw sensors exposed! Still, he made it all the way through, and didn't, to his mind, do too poor a showing. And now that it's all over, now he should be able to put up a better fight anyway, and THAT should make this all worthwhile.

Scrapper closes up the last few panels, making sure they're securely in place. Can't have Long Haul's armour falling off all over the place! The Constructicons have a reputation to uphold. At least they do in Scrapper's mind. When he reaches the very last panel, he pauses in closing up the transporter to reconnect his somatic motor control. Then, with great speed, Scrapper closes that last panel and darts a long step away.

Long Haul as soon as he's able to move again Long Haul clambers off the table... and falls onto the floor with a resounding >CLANG<. Hurrah for increased agility and improved reflexes! But then, his system is still trying to incorperate the changes, after all. The Constructicon pushes himself off the floor and tilts his head downward, given the impression of a bull ready to charge for a moment before... not charging. He relaxes some and shakes his head as his systems work to incorperate the new baselines. Then he just sighs and starts heading towards the door. "I s'pose I should get back to work," he mumbles.

Scrapper nods and notes lazily, "Yeah. Don't do anything too strenuous for a while or you might break some of those connections, but you might want to go check on the stores. Thought I heard a crash over there." Then, he turns back to the pile of Long Haul-bits and starts sorting out the parts. Some of them are scrap, and some of them can be reused. Should they ever need slow-aft dump truck parts again.

Wait a minute. So that means Long Haul does get a break from hauling after all? EXCELLENT! So, better reflexes AND a break from hauling. Guess all that pain was worth it, after all! The Constructicon stops in his exit and heads over to the cabinet to check on the parts Scrapper's assistant had been going through, but at this time there actually seems to be a bit more spring in his step.