Shockwave's laboratory <lab> The interior of Shockwave's laboratory is way bigger than it looks from the outside. There is a huge computer console with multiple screens and a throne-like chair infront of it. In the middle of the room is an operating table, very similar to ones find in medical wards and above it a multi-purpose engineering/medical drone to assist during procedures. There is a workbench in the corner with various power-tools and next to it is a big rack full of different spare parts/components. The creepiest thing is in the back of the room, there are lockers very similar to ones found in human morgues (Type 'morgue' for details, README for the OOC information about the room and +commands for a list of the room's commands and functions)
Camera> Fusillade has arrived.
Shockwave punches a few keys on the computer, the magnetic lock powers down and the metal bolt slides out with a loud *CLANK* Door unlocked
Fusillade enters Shockwave's lab.
Shockwave punches a few keys on the computer and deactivates the external camera. Camera deactivated.
Shockwave is sitting in his big throne-like chair going over some weird plans and a list of supplies as if he is planning on building something. Shockwave he turns towards Fusillade as she steps in. "Greetings Fusillade. What is on your mind?"
"Of all the smeltin', he didn't even make a report after all that, the blockhead," Fusillade grouses as she trudges in the doorway. Looking like she's had quite the night on the town, she half-raises knuckles to the doorway, when it slides open. "Oh, hey, Shockwave."
The sleek bomber rears up, wings collapsing onto hips even as the rear fuselage splits to form arms. The horizontal stabilizer slides up, the forward fuselage folds up accordian style, and Fusillade hops up on thrustered feet.
Shockwave would be raising an eyebrow if he had any. "From what I could head on the way here. I am forced to ask what report and which blockhead?" he asks in a slightly annoyed tone. Yeah people who do not follow procedure -almost- stir up an emotion from the big purple one.
Fusillade mmmphs to herself as she gingerly leans on the nearest convenient counter. Her torso and left upper booster pack is in ribbons, the silver of internals visible from the missile strike. Additional scoring from lasers mars one forearm and wingblade, and a few panels are wrenched clean off. "That would be Sinnertwin. He got the idea in his head to get 'revenge' on the Autobots for their attack on New Crystal City. He and Kup dueled on the beaches of Hawaii. Abyss, I, and Scrapper went after him. So yeah, he did okay against the old fogey, but Sideswipe took a shine to me -- " she pauses a beat to emphasize her current damage. "-- And Springer, Streetwise, and a human was there, too. They arrived pretty quickly in a shuttle. So, I dumped a load of bombs on Sideswipe and the shuttle, figured we shouldn't make it a complete waste. I had to withdraw, but left orders for them to continue damaging the shuttle. Last I had heard, it was about, hmm, three-quarters of the way to being destroyed."
Shockwave nods taking mental notes about what happened. "This stupid revenge idea is a waste of resources. If the Autobots want to waste warriors, ordonance, time and lives just to cause minor damage and annoyance instead of waging war it is their choice, but inevitably it will be a losing one." The professor grabs a medical scanner and runs a quick scan on Fusillade. "Then again Terrorcons were never known for their intelligence." You take several moments to run a medical scan on Fusillade...
Fusillade's gaze follows Shockwave's hand and the scanner, before she points to the major damage, and sasses, "Missed a spot." Continuing onto business, she nods toward the monitor, some of the drafting schematic lines looking familiar to her. Could it be? "So, what are you looking at, if you're allowed to tell?"
Shockwave motions to the table "Lay down, I will perform repairs. I like my people in top condition. As for what I an working on it is an adaptable device for various situations. I am running simulations and making a list of all that is required to build it. It will be a step in the right directions for some of our bigger projects here on earth.
Fusillade gives a surly scowl as she punches the paperwork through, but then nods to Shockwave as he waves her over. "I don't think the techs were too pleased to see me creaking in. At least I didn't ditch out on the mountain in bomber mode." She tries her best to not dwell too long on the 'my people' comment as she clambers onto the table. Folding hands over her chest as she awaits instructions, she remarks, "Sounds pretty involved. Maybe this latest idiocy with the goo will help the Unicronians see the necessity for us having more than one foothold on this wretched planet. Maybe I should go visit the Predacon's base in Africa..."
Shockwave runs the scanner a second time and extracts a list of the replacement parts required. In red are outlined the pieces that are not available and will need to be machined. His right hand flies across the keypad of the table. The droid above begins to work on assisting in removing the damaged plates and components. While a machine in the back of the room starts seemingly by itself and begins cutting armor plates to spec for replacement. "Not all that involved but it will likely become very useful. I can tell you about it since it is not classified as long as it does not fall into Autobot hands." He flings a twisted plate in the recycling bin. "It is an adaptative camo-net which's purpose is to measure the temperature below it and adjust the temperature of the water which is then run through the net which is made of hoses. The water temperature should offset the temperature of the activities below. This way we would be thermographically shielded from terran and autobot satellites and the camo-net itself makes visual inspection difficult. However such a device is more complex than it sounds and requires lots of particular materials."
The cascades of clicking from the droid's actuators earns a guarded look from Fusillade, before she turns her focus back on the Commander. "Very useful application. How likely is it to see production?" She gives a sharp intake of air over vents as the droid drives tongs between a few sore components to excise out a scorched servo relay. "And... isn't there other ways besides infrared and visual to detect production? What about ultrasound?"
Shockwave continues working in conjection with the droid. Being one-handed makes the multi-armed droid pretty useful. "Ultrasound is still a possibility but not from space. This is the real world not a cartoon. Sound does not travel in space." he says looking straight at the wall for a few seconds then examines a burned out component. "Sideswipe did all this by himself?"
Fusillade shifts weight uncomfortably, frowning visibly. "Yes," she murmurs in shame.
Fusillade also looks a bit chastised as Shockwave calls her on her lack of technical expertise, rising up to her elbows. The drone squeaks a bit, and splits two of its manipulator arms to be able to reach around. The machinig rotors in the background draw her attention, or at least her gaze. "Yeah, he did." There seems to be a burning glimmer of anger that's started to simmer within her orange-yellow optics. "I should not have interfered with Sinnertwin's idiocy," she finally grates out, and sinks back down onto the table.
Shockwave starts putting in new components after having finished removing all the burned out ones. "Either he has considerably improved or you might have underestimated him. Still on one side it is admirable that you try to reign in Sinnertwin but it is deplorable that you got injured in the process." he says flatly leaving it at that for now. "My device is very likely to see production, I simply hope I will not be branded 'insane' when I hand out the 'shopping list'.
Shockwave begins work on Fusillade's injuries. Your repair attempt is successful, and Fusillade's self-repair systems can handle the remaining damage.
"Neither," Fusillade grumbles. "He and Sunstreaker have always been formidable warriors. I simply am..." She trails off, and glances askance, trying to look at the readouts. "Overspecialized. And no, it's not going to be too weird. We've fetched other unusual items before. How many of them can be manufactured here, from raw materials?"
You say, "All of it. But why waste our own resoucres when we can just steal them? I have thought about manufcaturing everything here but it would be too time consuring given the diversity of the materials. Each different piece requiring to reprogram the machineshop to churn out the pieces slowly. Some of them stuff -will- need to be built from scratch or vastly improved from the stuff we will have stolen. I am also aware that such an increase in raid will see Autobot activity spike up. That is something we will have to deal with."
"The quality control issues seemed like the biggest reason why Fulcrum and Scrapper preferred that we just get basic building materials." Fusillade agrees with Shockwave. "Although..." She considers a bit as the drone polishes up her wingblade and deposits it on a tray beside her. "Exactly what items are we talking about, then?"
Shockwave puts the repairs on hold and lets the drone carry on while he pulls out a datapad and begins to read. "16.4 miles of industrial strength hose, 1 truckload of miscellaneous copper plumbing supplies compatible with the hoses, 2 to 4 industrial strength water pumps like those found on ships. 3.5 miles of interconnecting steel tubes, 6.4 tones of rubber colored after the island's pattern." The droid finishes putting the armor plates on Fusillade. "1 custom made-temperature monitor with multiple sensors along with a computer to interface between the sensors and the pumps."
Fusillade flicks optics in puzzlement. "You would need that for the matrix. I've seen it in context, I understand, but..." She raises a hand to her mouth, failing to fully stifle the laugh. "Yes, I can see where 'Decepticons, bring me silver-toned rubber and hose!' might come across a bit weird to the unenlightened." There's a few clicks from the repair drone as it uncouples diagnostic lines from her, and Fusillade sits up, dangling feet off the table's side.
You say, "Maybe if we steal some raw copper, Mixmaster can make the specified parts. Same thing for the steel tubing. The pumps would be too much of a hassle to build from scratch though. I will give more thought to your suggestion." Fusillade nods. "Well, it's fun to keep them confused, at least." She slips off, finally, with wingblades trailing after her, before she turns to Shockwave. "Is there anything else you require of me?"
Shockwave shakes his head. "Not at the moment. If anything comes up, I will call upon you."
Fusillade gives a sharp nod. "Hail to the Empire."
Fusillade walks out of Shockwave's lab...in one piece. Shockwave punches a few keys on the computer, the metal bolt slides into locked position with a loud *CLANK* and a small hum can be heard as the magnetic lock powers up sealing the room up. Door locked
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