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.
Dreadwind is slumped in one corner of the medbay, he looks to be in pretty bad shape, his chest is wrecked, there's a nasty cut on his upper right arm which goes right down to the servos. The most disturbing injury however is to his faceplate it is melted and distorted into an almost feral snarling visage and then looks like it's been dented too, unfortunately though, even with the neglect he seems to be on the mend.
Onslaught is sitting upright on his medical bed, dented, dinked, and scorched a bit as he waits his turn for repair. In the meantime, however, he is busy scrawling out battle plans on a slate resting in his lap.
Vortex follows the injured like a fly drawn to honey. People in pain? Oh this should be fun. "Hmm. Let's see who got injured today." he chuckles. "So many. What happened?"
Onslaught gives Vortex a Look.
Dreadwind looks up as someone makes the mistake of speaking in his presence, "It would more than likely be the usual futile struggle for dominance in an uncaring universe."
Arachnae is wherever Dredclaw has put her, wingless, crispy, burnt and fried. And occasionally mumbling random things like 'Protoplasmid infusers." Or 'Reticulating spline relays."
-- Compile is here as well, having only taken light damage, and is currently working on Nae and others as he is using his skills as a medic in this. "At least we have the body of Guiltor so we can see how that thing ticks," he comments as he looks at Tex. "Well Onsy there went against Guiltor, than myself, Nae and Dred went against him. Next thing we know, the piece of slag cut out his lasercore and ended his life."
Dreadwind watches as walking wounded and the more unfortunate pile into the medical area, "Ah I see the suffering has arrived at last, maybe now you will all see why it is pointless to fight. That is if you manage to survive the surgery necessary to repair your most grievous wounds, though it doesn't look like you will. Guiltor? He is nothing, he knows of nothing, I’ve got rust infections worse than him."
Arachnae says softly, "And then we had a drink."
-- Compile looks, "Well, we have a body and a laser core that he cut out of himself. That means we have a lot of information on him."
Vortex chuckles. "Well…at least he won't be bothering us anymore right? So we keep his core and torture it a bit." he heads over to Onslaught's side. "That looks.. painful." He stares a bit too long at an open wound.
Onslaught glances upward, half concealing the slate on which he is writing upon, as he looks at Vortex. "Is there something particular you require, Vortex, or are you going to stare as if your optics are monodirectional?"
Dreadwind stares at Compile for a moment, "Great so we'll know that he's built on the same principle as the Seacons are and that he has large weaponry, possibly with mild psychic powers to draw out your deepest fears and he likes to pretend he knows what they are like. As if something so new could possibly know what suffering and torment truly are."
Vortex reaches out like he's getting ready to poke the wound. Then he realizes he has onslaught's attention. "Nope. Just. Looking at that spark. Does…it hurt?"
Onslaught turns his head away from his fellow Combaticon to regard the holoslate in front of him. "The injuries were extensive but they will be repaired in time. I will thank you to keep your intelligence matrix on your duties."
Vortex chuckles. "Allright. I have some things to work on. I'll just enjoy some downtime while my commander gets repaired."
Onslaught nods, clearing his slate to start another plan, before looking up at Vortex again. "While you are doing that you will ensure that Swindle does not get creative in the execution of his duties."
Vortex tilts his head in a disappointed look. "Swindlesitting duties? Oh Onslaught. What did I do to deserve that?"
Onslaught pushes aside the slate as he sits up on the medical bed and half turns toward Vortex. "And who would you suggest handles that? Brawl? He would have his treads missing and his turret decorating the wall of Swindle's quarters before half a breen had past. Blast Off is engaged elsewhere so you are the only one left."
Dreadwind says, "Ah yes being forced to do that which you don't wish, it's almost become my lot in life, if it's not someone forcing me at gun point it's that insufferable Darkwing pushing me onwards."
Vortex nods "Keeps us both busy doesn't it?" he moves a hand to Onslaught's chest. "Lay down. I'll watch swindle."
Dredclaw stands over Arachnae, he didn't take any damage in the encounter. Though his optics are a bit over bright as he watches Compile work on Arachnae. Occasionally he digs a talon into his palm, as if reminding himself of something.
Onslaught pushes the hand that Vortex places on his chest away before nodding and retrieving his slate. "I expect reports on his activities, Vortex. I have ways of finding out what is going on under my command myself."
Vortex nods "If I see anything out of place, I'll let you know." he removes his hand. "I Better get to watching him hmm?" He starts to head for the door.
Dreadwind watches Dredclaw closely, "Painful isn't, continuing when others don't, being the one to walk away, left behind to see the true horrors that lurk just beyond your vision."
Sunder walks into the Medical Ward, aware that both Arachnae and Dredclaw have just returned from facing the infamous Guiltor. He quirks an optic brow at his doppelganger and then gazes upon the damaged form of Arachnae. "What happened?" he asks, curiosity welling up inside him like Old Faithful.
Dredclaw looks over at Dreadwind, "Pain reminds us that we are alive." he says mantra-like, then adds, "And the true horrors that lurk beyond your vision is probably just my wingman, Geist. He likes to sneak up on people like that." To his twin, Sunder he says, "Another Guiltor sighting." nodding to Arachnae with his chin. "I damaged him several times, but he shrugged it off like it didn't even hurt him. I was unable to stop him from mangling Arachnae."
Sunder nods at Dredclaw. "I see. What sort of apparition is this Guiltor? Is he truly invulnerable? Or can he be damaged, but only by a power much greater than ours? Perhaps our Emperor can see to the destruction of the creature." A smirk of bemusement crosses the Sweep XO's face as Dredclaw mentions Geist to Dreadwind. Dreadwind was the sort that made Dirge seem as cheerful as Wildrider.
Dreadwind shakes his head, "Pain is merely a taste of the exquisite suffering that is still to come, before the final shutdown, before the agonies start again. Oh and I’m sure your comrade will visit me at some point." Dreadwind listens it almost seems that everyone is afraid of this Guiltor or at least about his strange powers, "Guiltor is nothing, I cannot see how he has managed to cause such concern, it is not as if he has any special powers, he falls just like a Seacon does, true he returns again and again like death himself but it is hardly a new trick."
Dredclaw shrugs, "He seems real enough, though how he shrugged off my attacks, much less Onslaught's... I do not know." he looks down at Arachnae again. "He was preoccupied with her... like we were gnats to be shooed away. Then he just cut out his own lasercore." he looks at Dreadwind "Perhaps you are correct about the Void."
Onslaught brushes away Dredclaw's words as he looks up from his work. "We were unprepared, but with proper planning, he will fall. If a disabled lasercore does not cease his activities then there are ways to circumvent that."
Dreadwind stares blankly, leaving little chance of reading his thoughts from facial expressions, not that most would want to try, "Guiltor has been defeated, though it seems each time he appears he causes more suffering, perhaps the Quintesson's are increasing his shielding each time he dies. Though that means before long we will have none left to fight him and they will have won and we will be smoking husk of scrap metal."
Onslaught shakes his head as Dreadwind as he closes his right hand into a fist. "There is power that he has not faced yet. Strong he may be but everyone has a weakness and, in time, it will be found. In the end there will not be enough of him left to resmelt into a single floor plate."
Sunder grins at Dreadwind. "As I expected," he says, knowing full well that the Jet was the personification of 'Captain Bringdown' and as such, he's immune to the effects of the radiating negativity. He taps a talon idly on his arm, looking over the room's occupants.
Dreadwind says, "It's hopeless, he falls and they download him to a new body except they are apparently making improvements to each new body, either that or he is just going after the more vulnerable among us. If that is the case he's probably heading straight here for the wounded. We still haven't found a way to stop the Seacons from rebirthing yet, what chance do we have of stopping Guiltor from doing the same?"
Dredclaw muses, "If he just keeps getting stronger with each termination/download cycle... then we prevent him from terminating until we can find the resurrection method or location and shut it down."
Sunder strokes his beard thoughtfully. "Perhaps Revenant and Arachnae, and any others with such skills, can devise a means to disrupt their technology, and prevent it." Although he's not really well-trained in technical matters, Sunder is smart enough to try to conceive of any possible solution to a problem.
Onslaught is working on a plan. It'll be brilliant!
Dreadwind sighs heavily, "A well reasoned strategy, though of course it's not going to work, as I said, not that anyone was listening, we've had no success against the Seacons and assuming they use the same system we won't have any against him, he's already shown that he's willing to terminate himself just to do more damage. Of course if we do manage to somehow incapacitate him we would have to make sure some overzealous idiot doesn't go too far but even then he'll probably have a remote detonator installed ready to go off the second we get his chassis back to base, we can't win."
Dredclaw shrugs, "He's less cheerful than Garrote was, I swear." He see's that Arachnae has gone into recharge mode and heads over to a quiet corner to access the Emperial network.
Sunder glances back at Dredclaw. "Perhaps what we seek is a part of them that we can detect and remove," he says, his optics lighting up. "If one of us could find a device or part of these annoyances, that cannot be found in ordinary Transformers, and rip it out, perhaps that will put an end to their resurrections? It is an intriguing possibility."
Dredclaw shrugs, "The problem lies in getting them to stay still for that. Though it is as good of a plan as I have heard."
Arachnae sits bolt upright, looks around and finds herself asking, "What did I miss?"
Dredclaw looks over to Arachnae and smirks. "Good morning sunshine" he deadpans.
Dreadwind raises his head from where it had drooped dejectedly when he realized that no one was paying any attention to anything he said, "The usual waste of time of trying to find a way to fight the inevitable."
Sunder goes over to Arachnae, biting his lip to avoid the greeting that comes naturally to him (lest he risk a cannoning). "I had an idea--could there be a way to detect an anomalous device in the Seacons and in Guiltor? If someone with Enhanced Senses can pick up on such a thing, then wouldn't it be a simple matter to gut them and remove the device, and thus prevent further resurrections?"
Dredclaw looks at Dreadwind, "Are you sure that you aren't Garrote reincarnated?"
Singe walks in on the tail end of Dreadwind's comment and smiles, walking over to the new reason he's here. "We could end that fight, you and I." A nasty smile crosses his mouth. "Up for it?"
Arachnae blinks and looks around, a frown crossing her face as mask retracts. "Good morning." Gears and gyros click and clatter as her wings try to twitch. "Yes, I see.. The usual then." Giving Dreadwind a look. "Anyone care to explain to me why I'm all beat to slag? Lab explosion I suspect..."
Dredclaw's brow quirks upward. "So, you don't remember what happened in Nevada..." he surmises... wow, nothing gets past this guy.
Dreadwind looks to Dredclaw, "No, can't be, I’m still here suffering." Turning his dull yellow optics on Singe he regards him for a moment, "End the fight with another fight, you do realize just how utterly futile that line of reasoning is?" Dreadwind is in fact completely oblivious to the 'look' and whatever Arachnae might be trying to tell him, not that he really cares, he gets looks all the time.
Dredclaw grins at Singe, "Besides, he can't hurt you quite like I can."
Singe shakes his head and slowly puts an arm around Dreadwind's shoulder. "You do so remind me of my former pack-mate." His voice becomes serious yet the words are said with a seductive tone. "But I mean something completely different." He puts his strength into the 'manly hug', voice raising to be heard. "Computer! Possible intruder in the Med Bay. Track units Singe and Dreadwind but do not fire."
Dredclaw chuckles darkly at Singe's antics and watches the medbay auto-guns slide out and start tracking the pair.
Arachnae hmms, head tilting, "Nothing other than a largely growing neural ache. Something terrible I would assume." she shrugs and has a lie down, turning to watch Singe and Dreadwind.
Dreadwind turns his head to regard Singe in his somewhat odd move of hugging him, Dreadwind is far more used to people suddenly finding jobs they forgot about elsewhere. "I suppose that loss can cause mental instabilities that would cause you to see others where they are clearly not. I assume that you intend for us to try to avoid our further suffering in the future, it won't work, at best we'll just be maimed for a while and pay a thousand fold later on."
Dredclaw looks back down at Arachnae. "Guiltor" he sums up, hoping that her memory isn't damaged too far back. He then looks to Dreadwind, "I'm afraid that's what he's counting on, Dreadwind."
Sunder regards Singe's antics with quiet bemusement. Why, that crazy Sweep would do anything to get himself injured, wouldn't he? Same old Singe. He looks back over at Arachnae. "It is a mercy if you do not recall what just happened to you," he says, "However, I hope your memory banks are not compromised. It is possible that the apparition may return, and a plan to deal with it must be formulated."
Arachnae gives a shake of her head, almost smiling. "Who in the nine levels of the pit is Guiltor?"
Singe shakes his head, "Not at all. You simply need to embrace your pain. Make it into the lover that graces Terran televisions and radios. Let your fuel-pump cry out for it when it is gone and crave it every waking moment of your life." He looks over to the auto-turrets that are tracking the pair. "Give the command" he whispers, almost pleadingly. "Let the pain fill you with the joy that you once thought you had in this life without it. Become one with it and let it's seductive touch enter your being." Singe looks back at his new friend. "Give the command."
Dreadwind sighs heavily, "Well it's not as if thousands haven't tried to get rid of me, not that I’ve ever done anything to them all I ever do is try to help, not that anyone appreciates it. The universe just won't let my suffering end, not yet, I’m sure it has something far more agonizing than this in store for me. Joy? There is no such thing as joy it is a delusion created by simple minds to give them a reason to do and care. They can't cope with the knowledge that there is only pain and suffering."
Arachnae snickers softly, "It's like a match made in hell. I do miss Garrote..."
Dredclaw looks to Sunder, "Shall I gather the data for our s... for Arachnae to peruse, sir?"
Sunder almost winces as Dredclaw has to choke down the traditional reference used for Arachnae. "Indeed, make it so," he says, "The sooner we find out the nature of the resurrections, the sooner we can defeat these monstrosities. Perhaps Galvatron will let us back in his good graces once again, if we impress him in this."
Singe shakes his head again, "No my friend. The pain is the joy. Suffering the love." He holds up his free arm and looks at his hand. His wrist expands and little nozzles eject themselves to become nozzles. A single spike is different. It begins to crackle with electricity. "Perhaps guns aren't your taste. They're not for everyone." He bring his hand so that Dreadwind can see it. "Come with me on a journey of discovery. We'll forge through the flames together and emerge stronger than what we are now." He finally looks the other mech in the optics and there is no fear in his own. There could even be hope behind them. "Let me show you how the flames of existence can be enjoyed."
Dreadwind looks at Sunder and knows that even if any of the suggestions he made earlier are used he'll get no credit for it. Dreadwind's dull yellow optics show but one emotion total and utter depression, fear is after all only for those that care about living and Dreadwind gave that up long before his imprisonment started. "So you give up on the quick way out and instead prefer a slower more tortured exit, but still you put far too much effort into it. It is much better to just lie still and wait, let the dark comforting cold of the void slowly seep into your very core, there is no way to speed or halt your transit to oblivion."
Arachnae gives a shake of her head, "I'd rather not know until I'm back in peace shape. Might have a running glitchmouse someplace."
"Quick is for the weak" Singe says softly. "We, my new friend, are not weak. We know that our end will come yet we face it head on." His red optics flare in excitement. "/We/ can choose to lay down as This One's former wingsib did, or we can choose to jump into it with the excitement know only by a few. A few that are like us." He releases Dreadwind from his embrace and looks to the auto-turrets. "Computer. Stand down from Intruder Alert." He looks back to Dreadwind. "When you are ready to enjoy life by tasting death, come see me. Even in our current state of packlessness, This One would adopt you into the pack for it."
Dredclaw stops what he was doing, and closes the file. "As you will it, Arachnae." he settles back to the terminal he was using and starts pulling files for other things.
A low chuckle escapes from Sunder. "Found yourself a friend, eh?" he says, cocking an optic brow at Singe, "I must say, I will be impressed if you succeed in turning him to sharing your tastes.
Dreadwind simply stares at Singe, he just can't be bothered to humor the clearly deficient sweep nor is he boastful about his abilities, well not in the normal Decepticon manner. "Oh you enjoy it, typical, you're just like Darkwing, he's always going on and on about how great it is to show others the suffering that we are enduring. All that effort when they will know suffering soon enough anyway." As Singe releases him Dreadwind just slumps down, he doesn't really care about being a sweep but they do have such a nice home even if it is a little too cheery for his taste, but it's not like it's ever really going to happen, the universe is just trying to string him along for some sort of terrible fall.
Singe begins walking over to his fellow Sweeps, but takes a moment to look back at Dreadwind. He winks a red optic and shakes his head, "I'm like no one you've ever dealt with before, Dreadwind. Trust me on that." Turning back to the Sweeps, he gives a quick shrug. "This one is simply trying to fit into the rank and file of the lower class."
Dredclaw looks up and tilts his head, "And an admirable job you are doing, Singe." he flicks his datapadd shut. "I'm sure you'll find someone as twisted as yourself out there.. don't lose hope." he tries to sound sincere... but with a Sweep's gravelly voice, he fails.
Sunder grins. "I think our friend Dreadwind does not yet realize that Singe is all about inflicting pain on /himself/, first and foremost," he says with a smirk, "And that what our dear comrade is suggesting, is that Dreadwind do likewise."
Singe tilts his head to the side just slightly as he looks at Dredclaw. "This One can only hope that will become the case." He shrugs, righting his head. "It can get lonely being the only one to truly understand pain and suffering. And to enjoy it as much as one enjoys the hunt."
Dreadwind watches as Singe walks off to where he clearly belongs with the other Uniclones and finds himself wondering just why he has nowhere that he fits in, sure people say that he and Darkwing are a perfect match but he can't see it, not with someone that cheery. "Dealt with? I'm lucky if anyone even acknowledges me." Apparently unknown to the Sweeps Dreadwind had surmised Singe's intent fairly quickly most beings tend to forget that behind the gloom is a sharp and intelligent mind, he just couldn't be bothered to put Singe off.
Dredclaw moves to an empty examination table and motions for a gumby medic to attend him. "I want scans done on my gauntlets and hands." he hands the poor guy his datapadd. "Download them into this." The medic nods stiffly and starts to set up. Meanwhile Dredclaw answers Sunder. "I'm sure that Dreadwind would make the connection eventually. But I doubt that he would care." He then nods sympathetically at Singe. "Life is cruel, and doesn't maim you nearly enough."
The gumby-medic begins a detailed scan of Dredclaw's gauntlets. It seems he is very uncomfortable with a room packed with Huntsmen and knocks off several instruments from the tray connected to the exam table. "Calm down." Dredclaw commands, his raspy voice prickling with ire. The medic nods vigorously and in the process turns the entire tray over.
Dredclaw sighs and wishes Revenant were here to do this for him.
Singe waits for Dredclaw to get on the table then smiles, "You'd think with a color scheme such as This One's, the universe would be out to get me. To main this testament to perfection that carries This One around it with such grace and dignity." He shakes his head, "Disgusting."
"Indeed," Sunder muses, "It seems that Singe never gets enough of what makes him happy." He watches the Gumby medic with amusement--seeing Decepticons unnerved by a group of Sweeps was very entertaining.
Dreadwind watches the medic as it tends to the Sweep's needs and muses on just how differently they react when they have to tend to his injuries, not so much fear but perhaps loathing and looong slow trips to get replacement components and yet the same amount of strained silence between medic and patient.
<Decepticon> Elite Commando! Runamuck says, "WHO STOLE RUNABOUT'S LEGS?"
Singe finally looks to Sunder, a sneer crosses his face as he speaks. "With Scourge away, This One would like to know his orders. And as That Suckup is the ranking Sweep, what are This One's orders.... sir?"
Dredclaw finally gets the scans he needs and hops down from the exam table. "Ohh, go on and smack him around for that... you'll get on his good side fast like that, Sunder."
<Decepticon> Runabout says, "Shut up, you dumbaft."
Sunder smirks at Singe, then turns towards Dredclaw. "You know, you're right," he says, then steps towards Singe. Quickly he swings at his comrade, striking out at the face with the back of his hand. "Your orders are to behave yourself," he says firmly, "Whatever fun you have planned for later on, do not destroy Empire property in the process." *swat*
Singe takes the backhand to the face, twisting his head in the direction of the force. As he turns back, a smile crosses his face. Not one born of hate or anger or spite. It is a pure smile of joy. "Very well." He nods and takes a step as if to leave, thinks again and adds, "Thank you for that."
Sunder laughs aloud. "Now remember, Singe, there's more where that came from, if you are a good little Sweep and do exactly what I tell you."
Dredclaw chuckles, whether they can talk of it or not, he does love his family.
Singe raises a brow at the comment from Sunder. He looks back to Dredclaw as if asking permission to reply, but then shakes his head. Turning, he heads out of the Med Bay and off to cause some pain... to himself.