Ramjet emerges from the city that is Trypticon.
Ramjet has arrived.
Ramjet emerges from Trypticon, stomping down the entrance ramp with a frown on his faceplate. He's not pleased to be back on earth. He looks around the place to see if there are any commanders or other cons he would rather avoid.
Catechism is a bit startled by Ramjet's arrival. She'd been gawking at the city; it's really impressive what good old Decepticon engineering can do. After a tick, she gets herself together and salutes, which is a safe bet - most 'cons outrank her.
Ramjet stops at the bottom of the ramp and stares at the unfamiliar jetwarrior. His gaze goes down, then back up, stopping at her coned head. "Great. now I'm hallucinating too. Must have spent too many cycles on guard duty in the northern outpost." he goes to walk right thru her.
Catechism tries to dodge out of the way and waves, trying to make it obvious that she is in fact there, in case the other jet didn't notice her. He does look rather grumpy, but that doesn't stop her from introducing herself, "Hello. I'm Catechism. I was only returned to duty recently, so I'm a bit out of it, I'm afraid."
Ramjet doesn't return her salute and would have crashed right into her if she hadn’t dodged. When she speaks he stops in his tracks and turns to face her, still frowning. "'s odd...hallucinations don't normally talk." he peers at her more closely, then goes to prod her with one of his arm-mounted machinegun barrels. "Maybe that last crash did some real damage?" he talks quietly as tho it's only for his own benefit.
Catechism takes another step back at the poke, not wanting to stay too close to the other Seeker in case he's unstable or something. It wouldn't do to get into a fight and get stuck in the medbay, not after only being awakened from stasis a short while ago. That would look really, really bad on her record. A bit indignantly, she protests, "Ey, I'm not a hallucination!"
Ramjet's optics blink on and off a few times as he runs a diagnostic to confirm the solid tap of metal on metal his gun barrel causes. "apparently not. Maybe I'm just going crazy then. What are you then? Some kind of a weird shapeshifting alien? or are you Scrapper’s idea of a joke?" he stares at the cone on her head again. "what did he do? weld that thing on while you were sedated?"
Catechism looks very, very perplexed. Then, she slowly raises a hand to her own pointy head and taps it. Still looking befuddled, she answers, "This? I came out of the factory with a cone-shaped helmet. It's just the way I designed. What?"
Ramjet 's frown seems to deepen. "That can't be right. We were the only 3. they cancelled the program before the prototypes had even been fully assessed."
Catechism shrugs. She had never thought to question why she has a pointy head. Looks aren't really on her list of priorities. "Ey, maybe they had a few leftover parts and decided to put them to use. I don't know. You'd have to ask my designer... whoever he is." Catechism really has no idea who he might be, too. That's another thing she never really cared about.
Ramjet seems somewhat taken aback by the suggestion. "Leftovers? from the advanced seeker prototype project? That’s...just wrong. Who are you anyway and why don't I recognise you?"
Catechism sighs - she explained who she is, didn't she? Or is she imagining things? Maybe that long stay in stasis has mucked with her memory. Anyway, she puts on a cheerful smile, salutes again, and introduces herself, trying to get the situation back on the right track, "I'm Catechism. I was placed into stasis a long time ago, due to fuel shortages. I was only awakened and returned to duty recently. Can't say that I did anything spectacular while I was awake back then, either."
She did. but Ramjet is not the sharpest scalpel in the toolbox and short term memory has always been a bit of a problem since he crashed that shuttle into darkmount. "Fuel shortages. Right. and your made of spare parts which is why your head is all weird. ok. Must be part of Galvatron’s new attack plans then...mobilising all our reserves or something."
Catechism knows depressingly little about her own creation - she's not a tech, so why should she bother with useless details like that? - so she accepts Ramjet's theory without much thought. At the mention of attack plans, she perks up, her optics lighting up like a gun-nut in armoury. Eagerly, Catechism asks, "New attack plans? So things go well for the Empire?" Equally unthinkingly, she adds, "Of course they do, ah-hah!"
Ramjet leans back a bit, folding his arms over his chest, looking a bit self important. "Yeah. Attack plans. Didn't you receive galvatron's transmission?" his optics narrow and his frown takes on a vaguely suspicious twist at one corner. "You’re not a spy are you? some Autobot impersonating one of us to find out our secret plans?"
Catechism growls and exclaims, all wounded pride, "An Autobot? A smelter-swimming Autobot?! Straxus, no! The very thought makes me ill." She folds her arms across her chest and looks nauseous. Scowling, she reminds, "I told you, I just got awoken." Given Ramjet's reaction to her cluelessness, Catechism decides that now would not be a good idea to mention she's not entirely sure who this Galvatron fellow is, and she writes a mental memo to herself to check out her factional updates as soon as possible.
Ramjet probably is not the best mechanism to ask about galvatron anyway, having rather biased and dangerous views on the matter. He glances at trypticon's impressive defences and decides that if she wasn't who she said she would have been vaporised or at least have set off some sort of alarm by now. "Well, your story checks out. Galvatrons planning some big offensive and has ordered more raids. for energy this time, not sand. He's planning to build a huge space fleet and you know what *that* means." his frown straightens out a fraction, he’s not smiling, just frowning less.
Catechism decides that Galvatron must be at least some sort of In Charge Decepticon, the way that Ramjet talks about him, and thus not someone to tick off. The bit about sand goes right over her head, but she assumes that it must have served some needed purpose. At the mention of a huge space fleet, she grins. As far as she's concerned, that's the way things are supposed to be! Catechism claps her hands together and crows, "Most excellent news!"
Ramjet nods...very slightly, his head armour being welded into a solid lump with his torso means he has little neck articulation. "Yeah. I can get a new command, maybe a ship just as good as the Chaos. That’s why I transferred here from cybertron, so I can be on standby for these raids."
Catechism drops her hands to her sides, looking perhaps a bit embarrassed. She pauses, perhaps not entirely sorted out from her time stasis. After a moment, she asks, "So what now?"
Ramjet was not expecting that, it’s been a long time since he's had to give anyone orders. "uh...There are no commanders on the island? no strike teams being assembled? I thought this is where they would stage sorties from."
Catechism stutters, "Well... well, I haven't seen anyone, but..." ...but she's been busy gawking at the architecture. Silly Catechism. She suggests hopefully, "Perhaps they are busy with the big plans?"
Ramjet rubs the back of his cone with a palm. "hmm. probably. Well I'm not air commander anymore so it’s not down to me. besides nobody ever tells me anything about what’s going on."
Catechism reasons, "We could try to track someone down." Of course, that's liable to be more trouble than it's worth. If their leaders are busy, they must be busy for a good reason and disturbing them probably isn't a good idea. Still, she'll see what the other conehead thinks of the idea before she mentions all that. No need to be a downer.