| abstract
| - IHQ Med Bay The new Med Bay is large enough to house all the wounded that could result from battles against the Autobots. Near the entrance, there are a series of benches for patients awaiting treatment. Advanced medtables line the sides of the room in symetrical rows while surgery is located within the central area. In the ceiling are several crane mechanisms to assist medics in moving larger Decepticons, each one highly articulated and built to withstand the strain of lifting even Devastator. The room's floor, walls, and ceiling are fitted with forceshield generators to contain those that are too injured to return to duty, possible contaminants, and also are set to automatically engage to protect the room from combat damage. The room is immaculately clean, carries a glossy shine, and always smells of disinfectants, giving off the air of a proper medical bay. To the rear are the airlock doors that lead to the Laboratory. Contents: Soundwave Gumby Medic Medical Rules Obvious exits: East leads to IHQ Laboratory. West leads to IHQ Central Chamber. Soundwave spins, folds, and collapses down into an innocuous-looking microcassette recorder, a fraction of his former size. Blue Microcassette Recorder is sitting next to the main terminal. Whirr, click. Catechism reports to the medical ward, looking around, not noticing the totally stealthy tape recorder, she sits down on a medical table. The Seeker looks around, apparently looking to see someone here aside from the medical gumby. After a bit, she asks the gumby, "Ah... I was supposed to report here to have my structure tested before the installation?" A blinking cursor is the only thing on the main screen. As Catechism asks her question the lights dim except around one of the larger operating areas. The kind devoted to large vehicle altmodes. Catechism flinches. This is spooky! She turns around, looking back, as if vaguely expecting to see some sort of monster. Then, ever genre savvy, she looks up. Sighing, Catechism slips off the table and tromps over to the lighted area, transforming and settling herself on the floor in jet mode. F-35B Lightning II transforms into robot form. Catechism's feet unfold, her arms unfold out of her body, her nosecone rotates through her body and ends up on her body, and her wings rotate into position at her hips. Soundwave can't emit holograms. If he could there would probably be some sort of Grimlock-esque fire-breathing jet-eating monsterbot lurking out of the shadows. Just for fun. The tape recorder whirrs and clicks a couple more times, then bounces down the counter with some quiet clattering. Now directly in front of the F-35, it falls forward toward the floor and transforms. Soundwave lands in a crouch and slowly straightens to his full height. The innocuous-looking microcassette recorder rapidly unfolds and grows to immense proportions, becoming the Decepticon Communicator, Soundwave! F-35B Lightning II would be thankful that Soundwave cannot emit holograms, if she knew what he would do with them. However, she doesn't, and it's better that she doesn't. The jet does, however, open its lift fan doors and hover a few inches off the floor, surprised by Soundwave appearing before her suddenly. She stutters, "S-sir!" Soundwave reaches out one hand slowly toward the jet.. and then simply points down at the floor. F-35B Lightning II cuts her hovering and lands, her tyres again firmly on the floor. The jet looks sheepish, somehow. Soundwave lets the jet just sit there for a little while. Any other time and he'd be doing it just out of spite, but this time he actually seems to be working. Setting up sensor arrays, making last minute adjustments to programs. Finally getting around to setting the damned clock. And then he stares at the jet for a few long moments, either studying its form or just taking a break. It's hard to say. A voice breaks the silence, followed by a second voice half an octave lower and on a two-thirds second delay: "Initiate sonic dampening." A greenish glow raises from the floor to the ceiling, surrounding Catechism's section of the repair bay. Soundwave steps inside the ring, and all of the sounds of the outside world crackle out of existence. "Immobilize subject," he drones. Clamps reach up from the floor to grab her landing gear and tie-down points. F-35B Lightning II gets that uneasily feeling one usually does when sitting a doctor's room. She rocks back and forward slightly as the armatures rise out of the floor and clamps her down. It's awkward enough for her to be a jet in an enclosed space, like a medical ward, but being clamped down is exceptionally unpleasant for a Seeker who seeks to spite gravity. She mutters, questioning, "Somic dampening?" Oh. No one will be able to hear her scream. Oh. As if Soundwave really cares about who hears who scream. ..wooommmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.. A low-frequency hum fills the air in the cylinder surrounding Catechism. "Initiating vibrational stress test. Engine parameters loaded. Simulating one-quarter maximum thrust." Soundwave makes the hum build into something that one could definitely regard as 'rattling.' Due to the protective shield, everything outside the wall of green haze (because that's what force-fields look like, green hazes or purple spiderwebs, etc) -- everything outside the wall of green haze appears completely unaffected. MMmmMMmmMMmmMMmmMMmmMMmmMMmm... Aren't cries and screams music to Soundwave's ears? The F-35 definitely shakes and rattles, straining at the clamps. Her wings wobble, flexing and bending. She comments uncertainly, "This is, er, rather turbulent." She's fairly well-built, with multiple redundant systems and reinforcing struts, but soon enough, some hairline stress cracking starts to show... Soundwave resonates, incorporated into the vibrational hum of the stress test, "One-half maximum thrust." The hum builds up quickly, starting to sound like a very loud paint mixer. Curious sensor arrays seem to bend in around Catechism like lurking horrors. But that might just be all the shaking. Outside the field, one of the medical drones tilts sideways and hovers over to its edge. F-35B Lightning II is looking like she definitely won't be able to handle one half maximum thrust, not with her current design. Panels have started to fall off the jet, clattering to the floor. The hairline cracks are developing into full-blown cracks that expose her internals. She reels, dizzy, and the sensor arrays look lurid and horrific to her blurred vision. Damage alerts beep at her insistently, demanding to know why she's just sitting there. One would assume Soundwave would end the test. But then one would remember how wrong such an assumption would be. "Three-quarters maximum thrust." At this point even the sensor arrays are physically beginning to deform, shrinking up and down towards the ceiling or floor where each is rooted. The floor creaks, and a panel in the ceiling begins to warp. Throughout it all, Soundwave just stands there perfectly unaffected, watching academically. F-35B Lightning II is literally being rattled apart. Her wings snap off at the roots, and her tailfins soon follow. Her cockpit glass shatters. Yes, the Seeker does indeed scream, as this test shows very conclusively just what kind of vibrational issues her current design possesses. Her landing gear give way, thumping the main body of the jet onto the floor with a crash. Soundwave mercifully ends the test about ten seconds after the jet falls apart. He's probably disappointed he didn't get to crank up the stress any further. What a shame. The vibration ceases abruptly, feeding the damping field. "Test complete. Structural failure occured at seven six point zero two four percent required engine output. Execute full analysis." He walks over to Catechism's broken form, looking down at the vehicle. "Release restraints. Unit: Catechism, report." F-35B Lightning II is silent for a while, most of her systems overloaded with damage alerts. She had no idea she even had some of these systems that are now telling her about how non-functional they are! Then, she gibbers incoherently a bit as her CPU tries to catch up with all the damage reports. Finally, Catechism reports, as instructed, "Uh... I'm seriously wrecked up. Maybe I can transform? Not really sure." Soundwave steps backwards outside the field, which promptly vanishes. "Cease attempt," he orders Catechism. Perhaps the question was just to see if he destroyed her brain in the process. "Specific locational damage relevant." To the computer and medical drone he issues the order, "Commence submolecular scan, all sectors." He folds his arms across his chest as the nonsentient devices beep and buzz and starts moving around the shattered Seeker. F-35B Lightning II , fortunately or unfortunately, depending on perspective, still has a functional CPU. She puts hers through an awful lot of abuse on a regular basis. She stops trying to transform and instead reports her damage locations, to the best of her ability, which ends up amounting to ' anywhere two parts are joined, particularly bits that stick out'. The main terminal bleeps and then displays a detailed scan of Catechism, with a red dot anywhere with extreme stress damage, an orange dot anywhere with moderate stress damage, and a green dot anywhere with minor stress damage. Purple, flashing dots mark areas of total system failure. Catechism may not want to look. F-35B Lightning II can't really look away, due to being in no shape to move. She observes soberly, "That is... an awful lot of purple." Oh dear. Well, rebuilds are never easy, she tries to tell herself, to keep her spirits up. Soundwave switches off the damage display and then seems to go about searching through a parts inventory, or at least a list of some sort. "Unit defective," he tells the medical 'staff.' "Execute recycling protocols." The medical drone extends a sparking cutting torch and ominously starts to drift in towards Catechism. F-35B Lightning II looks as alarmed as a ruined fighter jet can, which is to say that her tactical computer beeps sadly. She inquires nervously, "Uhm, you mean recycle the broken buits, right? Not the bits that are actually functioning," all three of them, "because I really kind of need those." Soundwave does not see fit to clarify. The drone goes after a splintered wing, first, and the Communicator goes after the other one. Systematically they begin removing stray bits and pieces that have already fallen off. F-35B Lightning II sort of wiggles a bit from side to side, as if hoping that she could squirm out of the medical ward before some over-zealous medical drone chuck her into a dust bin, like SuperTed. Soundwave finally relents on the charade of tossing Catechism into the incinerator and goes to work replacing ruptured fuel lines and gaskets and things. Basic life-support infrastructure. Except he doesn't acquire new parts from the standard old Seeker bin. No, these parts come from a bin marked XJ-324645-A-1z. Whatever that means. The sad beeping from her tactical computer ceases, apparently indicating relief. Catechism has to spend a few minutes figuring out why Soundwave didn't just go for the standard Seeker part bin. She's a Seeker... oh, yes. No use putting in standard parts anymore. This is the end of that. While Soundwave has been distracting the tactical computer, the drone has been systematically removing stress-fractured parts. That is to say, pretty much every noncritical system. That is to say unnecessary things like flight surfaces. Engine housings. That completely unnecessary human-sized control housing. When one really gets right down to it, about the only critical component in Catechism is her lasercore. The rest is just so much window dressing. Of particular interest to Soundwave might be that Catechism has a complete (albeit busted, now) set of combiner components. She used to be able to turn into a leg. These components are now completely irrelevant. Soundwave just tosses the combiner pieces out onto the floor, like so much garbage. Everything now left is simple structure, framework, and a shiny new set of (possibly experimental) high-grade gadgets and gizmos. The Communicator finally breaks his recent silence. "Perform self-diagnostic. Test basic systems." F-35B Lightning II reports, "Well, voicebox is functioning." She laughs, though it really isn't funny. "Basic structure reports as intact. Fuel and electrical systems are functional. Radio is functional." Also, life doesn't hurt quite so much, though she doesn't say that. Hinder has connected. Hinder arrives in NOT the usual way. In other words, the doors never open. She simply 'appears' from one corner of the room, crossing the intervening distance toward Soundwave with her arched-back bounding gait. F-35B Lightning II acks as Hinder appears out of nowhere. Oh, Straxus! That's startling! She makes a low 'eep' noise. However, being unable to move, she can't disrupt Soundwave's work too much. The medical drone starts sweeping up metal fragments around the jet-esque frame as Soundwave calls up further schematics. "Structural analysis complete. Fabrication units active ... processing... complete. Retrieve." The medical drone rushes off toward the laboratory, and a few moments later reemerges dragging a heavy bin full of all sorts of neat parts. =================================== Rumors =================================== Message: 8/4 Posted Author Fox Hunting... Tue Nov 25 Anonymous ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ A man in a red and black jumpsuit happens to be talking to himself in a dark and drafty apartment filled with wooden crates randomly around him. On top of a wooden crate that is near the center of the room, rests a TV. Near that point is a giant mound of something. Perhaps clay! The man happens to be talking to himself, but with different voices. You need a job. "I'm doing my job... BEHOLD!" Making a really crappy chair out of plastic explosives doesn't count! And it doesn't pay, either. "AaAaaAaaAaaAaaAHHH..." You spent every cent you had the gig that went bust. You used all your munitions on the Witwicky job, which ALSO went bust. "Not all of my munitions..." Oh wow. Yippee. You're completely broke. You have NO prospects for future employment... but you do have an exploding chair. /And/ this makes you happy? "Strangely, yes." This chair is pretty comfortable... The man is sitting in his chair with a remote in his hands, still talking to himself, "It's real semtex too, not that cheap C-4 stuff that our competitors use. Let's see what's on the tube...every...freakin'...channel?! That does it it. Okay, I got a plan..." The man sits still as the remote falls to the ground and he continues his monlogue in dialogue, "I'm gonna kindap a Decepticon - - somebody important! And then I'm gonna hold 'em for ransom until they agree to get off the TV. Wait, no-- until they put all my favourite shows on TV, with no commericals." He pulls out a dart and tosses it agains the wall, where newspaper headlines and pictures of Transformers are posted. He looks at the picture of the one it hits and he grins slightly, "Hmm, Foxfire. Sounds like an easy Con to catch..." ============================================================================== Hinder yeeks faintly and skitters out of the medical drone's way then follows it over to the bossman. "I have adapability." Soundwave reaches down to pick up a piece off the floor, which he holds out towards Hinder. Some weird-shaped thing that seems to have no real functionality. F-35B Lightning II considers the bin of neat parts. That certainly look promising, to her! She's not sure what to make of Hinder's comment. The... ex-Seeker settles on greeting, "Ah, hello there... Hinder, is it?" Hinder oohs at the odd-shaped bit of flotsam then takes it in her teeth and turns to bound back across the room with it. She pauses though when Catechism speaks up. "Yes. Hinder. Hello." F-35B Lightning II watches Hinder takes a piece of Vindicator as a... chew toy? Ah well, Vindicator will never again see the light of day. Might as well do someone some good. She replies awkwardly, "Ah. Hi. I'm Catechism. I'm usually in less pieces than this," which may be a lie considering how often she gets herself exploded. Hinder ohs softly, looking at the mostly disassembled Catechism with what might almost be considered a critical eye....nah. "Catechism. You have adaptability?" Soundwave has to replace every single scrap of structural reinforcement in Catechism's chassis. Needless to say if this weren't a cartoon it would take a very long time. The camera focuses on Hinder while she talks, then on Catechism while she responds. Then Hinder again. When it cuts back to Catechism, things are shinier and sparkly-new. F-35B Lightning II considers Hinder's odd question. She ends up replying, "I can roll with the punches, if that's what you mean." And soon, she will be able to shake, rattle, and roll, as well. See, she ooks shinier already, thanks to Soundwave's hard work. Hinder bobs her head once, though that wasn't really what she meant. She picks up her little prize again and starts back across the room, disappearing again behind the leg of a table. Soundwave starts handing main chassis housing segments and armor plating to the medical drone, which starts laying it in overlapping, dovetailing sections. It's suspiciously lighter than Catechism's original external plating. Some sort of high-tech ceramic composite, probably. Soundwave doesn't explain. About this time new wings are being delivered from the fabrication units. Dull, blunted things that aren't eye-catching at all. F-35B Lightning II can't track where Hinder has gone, being relatively immobile. She wouldn't understand if Soundwave did explain. Catechism comments, "Huh, that feels... light. Is that all of it?" Then again, maybe Soundwave will leave out a piece, like Hot Rod did, and thereby completely improve Catechism. Soundwave stops what he's doing just to glare at Catechism for (almost) a full second. Then he goes back to work. Ah, the wings, marvels of design. Yet completely useless in space. In fact, the only thing special about them is that they won't fly apart breaking atmosphere. In theory. Soundwave inspects them and then leaves them to the medical drone to attach. Routine task and all. No, Soundwave has something more important to attend to. He disappears into the Laboratory for a few minutes. F-35B Lightning II quails under the glare. As the medical droid attaches the new, blunt-tipped wings, Catechism feels rather better. She just doesn't feel right without a pair of wings, even if these are a bit different than her old ones. Catechism wonders just how long she'll end up waiting out here, as Soundwave vanishes. Quite possibly several months. Soundwave finally returns, bearing a gift. An overpowered Pratt & Decepticon hybrid afterburning turbofan/ramjet module. The arduous task of connecting it to Catechism's control systems as well as installing the oversized intake cowlings on either side of the jet's fuselage takes.. oh wait, he's done. There must have been a commercial break. Hinder emerges once again, sans bit of whatever. She bounds after Soundwave, curious as to what he's doing to Catechism now. Sadly, her fastest 'run' isn't any faster than an average human, so she catches up slowly. F-35B Lightning II reports, "Engine connections check out, sir." Lots of little green lights on the display panel, wherever it might be. She faintly hears Hinder approaching again, though her hearing isn't good enough to tell her where Hinder is. Hinder looks up at what's going on, but again is on the floor with a less than ideal vantage point. So she makes her way under the medtable supporting Catechism and after a few moments one of the panels along the edge of the tabletop pops loose and she clambers out. Soundwave looks at the terminal, the one reporting Catechism's status. Then he abruptly turns and stalks out of the medical bay with no statements, no orders, no recommendations. The medical drone continues buzzing around, touching up the jet's exterior. Checking seals, rivets, connections. But aside from cosmetic concerns, the core components are all functional. There may be a few hours (or days) to go in balancing and testing the new systems, but Soundwave seems to lack interest in any of that. At least he's not performing destruction tests anymore. Soundwave has disconnected. Hinder pauses as Soundwave just stalks out of the room and leaves her behind. Uh... F-35B Lightning II ends up zonking out on the medical ward floor, exhausted from the rebuild. She'll have to find a mirror tomorrow and, more importantly, a spaceport.
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