| abstract
| - Science Shack Much larger than it looks from the outside, the Science Shack stretches on far longer than the optic can behold. The main room, which accepts those exiting the podium lowered from above, holds all sorts of computer equipment that's currently being adjusted to broadcast beyond these mercuric oceans above. Immediately to the right of the room, is a workstation with all sorts of parts scattered. Cybertronian limbs, chassis', tools, giant sheets of metal. To the left of the main room, the corridor seems to stretch on forever. Each seventy feet or so, a separate cell is found on either side of the hallway. Just -what- are in these cells, well.. that's unknown. ~Whoooooooooooooooooooooo lives in a Science Shack under the sea? Scrapper and the Constructicons! Whooooooooooooooo..~ Okay that's enough of that. One of their remote labs located throughout the galaxy, the shack in the Six Lasers system lies under the mercuric waves of Pequod. While the unique locale makes it hard to find from scanners, it also makes it a pain in the transistor to send an outgoing message. They're working on that, though. Located in the workshop off to the side of the main entrance, Scrapper gleefully cackles at the parts assembled in front of him. His hands fold over eachother, in an evil caress that rotates endlessly. Suffice to say, he's over pleased with this latest pull. Some others might already be here, working off to the side at their own little stations. Still yet, others might be arriving anytime now.. as the call went out to make the preparations to finalize a couple of last minute projects before the truce. Cackle's expression can be best described as 'dreamy.' Like some sort of shy wallflower in any number of human films, she lurks at the sidelines. Of course, most human films don't involve mad science, and they're that much poorer for it. "Uh, Scrapper?" she finally ventures, "What sort of brilliant superweapon are you working on?" she asks, as sweetly as she can. Which, admittedly, isn't very sweet. But she tries, and she has a death ray, and both of those count for something, right? A box comes out of the lift!... no wait, that's a box being carried by Carjack. Just that his short chunky build causes the box of stuff to obscure most of him until he sets it down on a table. "Here, I brought that last load of stuff you requesitioned, Scrapper. I'd made Long Haul carry it, but he 'claimed' he had a different hauling job, and there wasn't time to waste arguing with him." Trotting over to the work area afterwards, Carjack lets out a low whistle after looking over the assembled pieces. "Quite a haul you made there. Can't wait to see what your artistic engineering comes up with." Followed by an uncomfortably creepy cackling. The sort that makes you want to think twice about standing next to him when you remember he's a medic. Contrail is not a scientist. She is just here to harangue the scientists into making some portable detectors for the radiation from the EDC's new weapon! Also to nag them into putting some lasers on the Atomium. Contrail points out, "I could have carried that for you, Carjack," spreading her arms out wide, "Save your energy for /thinking harder/." Shockwave arrives along with Carjack. Unlike Carjack, he doesn't appear here to help, specifically. The Guardian of Cybertron steps forward, taking everything in with a perfectly precise optic. The Constrccticons and their lackeys are clearly working on something major, and doing so in their normal chaotic fashion. Shockwave follows Cackle up to the Constructicon leader. "Why was I called here, Scrapper?" he demands, skipping the pleasantries. "Oh, I'm sure it'll come together once everyone's arrived." Scrapper delightfully informs Cackle, optic band glowing a brighter hue than usual. He's stopped the creepy hand wringing thing, at the very least. "Ah yes, Long Haul. I'll speak with him later about 'priorities'." the Constructicon leader gruffs out, nodding to Contrail. "I haven't forgotten about your requests, however some other matters are of pressing urgency.." he comments to the triple changing femme, before pratically tearing into the box of parts Carjack had brought with him. "Junk." "Scrap." "Oh." The third exclamation is followed closely by another mad cackle, as Scrapper pulls an old damaged lasercore from the bin. Glancing from the parts, to the core, to the parts again.. his processor is already working overtime. When Shockwave makes his presence known, the Constructicon is pulled from his lapse in reality awareness. "Oh, yes. More as a formality, I'm afraid.. Lord Shockwave. Unless of course.." Scrapper pauses, pulling the tarp off the rest of the parts assembled. Some limbs from Hubcap, the torso leg and arm of Elita One, shoulder armor and the microscope cannon from Perceptor, and a full bodied Junkion prisoner named Arr-K-Ick.. bound and gagged. "You wanted to lend a hand?" Contrail salutes properly and formally to Shockwave and puts herself out of the way to observe the proceedings. When the time is right... oh, there will be nagging! Such nagging. "Oooh!" Cackle steps over to the contraption Scrapper has devised- she's not so bold as to TOUCH the thing, but she's ogling it, all the same. Her gogglelike red optics scour the device, and she hmms, "A very elegant design, Scrapper. I expected no less!" a pause, and she glances around...particularly at Contrail. "But...perhaps you might enlighten our...less gifted, more special comerades. What does this new, BRILLIANT inventnion of yours do?" Another pause: "It doesn't blow up ocean, does it? As I've been working on that." Robotic Bald Eagle suddenly lands on Scrapper's shoulders, wearing overalls! Yes, in bird mode. He does that a lot, no one understands it. "Hello, SCRAPPER! It is I, Americon, and I am here to lend my skills to ASSIST YOU... IN AMERICA!" If Shockwave even notices the joke about 'lending a hand', he gives no indication. Instead he peers at the pile of crap Scrapper has uncovered. Similarly, he doesn't seem to notice what possible function this contraption could serve. The closest thing he can come up with is a torture device for Junkions. Shockwave has tried extracting information from their kind before, but it never ends up accomplishing anything useful. "Oh, I -do- like where this is going." Then again, Carjack would probably get excited as seeing anyone slapdashed together at Scrapper's tender (lack of) mercies. "Nothing yet, Cackle." Scrapper happily reports, giving the parts a once over. "Instead of drafting a design, I'd hoped we would all pitch in to create something altogether.." he pauses, optic band seemingly squinting tighter. "Nefarious." Then a robotic Eagle in the colors of USA and in overalls lands on his shoulder, forever ruining his moment of deep contemplation. "We aren't even in the Sol System, Americon. Unless you've already proclaimed Pequod as New America." Scrapper bites out. Thinking for a moment, he turns to Cackle. "Blow up the ocean? Wouldn't it be more appropriate to evaporate it?" Contrail is Cackle's example of a dummy? ...well, that's appropriate, given the current company, but the Triple-Changer can't help but cross her arms and raise one optical ridge sourly. She does, however, point out, "With enough cesium, you could blow up the ocean. I guess." Contrail knows crude explode-y things. "Oh." Cackle ounds...a little dissapointed, as Scrapper reveals his master plan! Or, well, lack therof. "Uh, as for the ocean, Galvatron told me to blow it up once, and it's kind of been a side project since, but I digress." she pauses, and then leans over and pokes at a piece of Huffer. "Well, if it's a work in progress, we need to add more lasers. We always need to add more lasers." Robotic Bald Eagle glares grumpily at Scrapper. "Maybe I *would.* I don't like you anymore!" He hops off Scrapper's shoulder and settles on Shockwave's shoulder instead, continuing to fix a glare on the Constructicon. "Hmph!" "This... is it?" Shockwave replies, underwhelmed. "One Junkion prisoner and various pieces of scrap from our enemies? I am here to work out the means to destroy our enemies and bring the galaxy to its knees, Scrapper, not... perform art," he waves his hand dismissively at the junk littering the area. He doesn't comment on blowing up the ocean, because he knows this is just a joke. Right?! When Americon lands on his shoulder, Shockwave moves slightly to give the mech a better perch. Shockwave, like all Decepticon leaders, immediately gain +100 style points for this. "Sudden widespread evaporation, millions of tons of water at once, would be like 'exploding'," Carjack chimes in. Then rubs his chin. "I really don't care what we do to him, as long as the process is long, slow, and excuriatingly torturous to the... patient." Cue more twisted cackling. "Yes, Lord Shockwave." Scrapper replies, not too moved by his reaction. He was never one with an optic for imagination anyways. Giving the lasercore a couple of turns in his hand, the Constructicon steps up to the parts and starts laying them out in a haphazard fashion. "Carjack, are you familiar with lasercore integration? If not, there's no time like now to learn." he surmises, tossing the damaged device towards the medic. "Cackle, I'll leave the armament to you." Scrapper notes on the 'more lazorz' comment. And so, the Constructicon starts spot welding a large chassis.. ripping out components and installing more limb joints along both sides. "Ah. Ah. Er, I mean, AHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Cackle clambers up upon the working table, and immediately sets about installing various weapon mounts at whatever places she might reach. "There's no reason to stop with LASERS, of course! As there have been particularly interesting developments in zero-particle weaponry- all experimental, of course, and somewhat risky, but what is science without an element of danger, hmm?" Cackle looks up before she can start welding in earnest, and glances around. "Er, wha if I might be so bold, what exactly are we working on, again?" Carjack catchs the lasercore in both hands. "I just need to know the parameters of the primary systems of the unit it's being installed into," he replies between vile chuckles as he holds it up and snaps down his scanner visor with a brief bop of his head to examine the core more closely. Intergration he can do. Just don't ask him to -make- one. Not that anyone in their right mind would -trust- him to make one. Shockwave steps away from the group, still carrying Americon with him. The Commander stops at one of the computer terminals and keys in some commands. The view changes from the mercuric oceans to a standard display. Shockwave begins downloading every scrap of information about Pequod, even from before this place was co-opted by Six Lasers Inc. Robotic Bald Eagle peers at the information Shockwave is downloading. "Yeah, and I brought some MIRRORS with me so that we could make the Atomium's spheres DISCO balls and make the Autobots involuntarily break down and dance, but noooo, someone DOESN'T LIKE AMERICA!" he grumps. Shockwave doesn't comment on this outloud, but he suspects the effect of having a Cassettibird on your shoulder works better when the bird in question shuts the hell up. Installing some mundane limbs along the side, Scrapper afixes Elita One's torso to the middle and welds it on.. making sure all the connections are in proper order and working condition all the while. Pausing to grab some more materials, the Constructicon gives Americon a dour look. "You want the Autobots to dance.. in America? Why not anywhere else? What symbolic effect do the United States bestow?" Turning back to his work, he points a repair table out to Carjack. "That should have the required tools, as I've already hollowed out an area inside the chassis for its storage." "Perfect!" Of course, Scrapper would have the perfect arrangements for such operations, even in a hidden away shack such as this. Carjack scampers over to the repair table, sets the core down, and drags over the box of stuff he brought with to pick a few other parts out of. Scrapper is right, a lot of it -is- junk... but salvage and 'recycling' it for EVIL SCIENCE is something Carjack is extremely apt at. Cackle hmmms, and loks at a particular piece- she drags some parts out of subspace, and summarily welds an unessiscarily large and glowy cannon-looking thing to an important looking strut. "In any case, as entertaining as this is...do we have a grander purpose to building this device? As otherwise, I'd hate to keep taping lasers on for little effect." "Taping lasers on a thing is /always/ good," Contrail opines. Then she gets a page. Discotheque has buried himself under spotlights again? Condemn that gumby! She sighs, shakes her head, and moves to head off. "They symbolize," Americon begins. "Uh... America." He glares back at Scrapper. "Look dammit, I just want disco balls, is that so wrong?" "Patience, Cackle. Patience." Scrapper cautions, moving to the front to build a cage for the Junkion to rest on. "We'll run this.. monster on the Junkion's own life support systems, targeting, et cetera. With the combination of parts from Hubcap, Elita One, and Perceptor.. we should expect a rather unique skillset for this creation." (read:TP Monster) Afixing a giant arm on one side, Scrapper welds some of Perceptor's shoulder armor onto the joints for increased durability. Stepping back, he ponders.. then constructs a giant steel pincher to rest at the end. Shockwave ignores everyone here because they're all idiots. Instead he's still focusing on learning more about Pequod. As he reads up on Six Lasers Inc., it becomes clear that the Empire cannot stand against this economic and military might just yet. Thus diplomatic battles and political intrigue must be won instead, then. Shockwave begins looking up the various leaders (aka SVP's) of this solar system. Cackle gives a little "Oooh!" as she sees Perceptor's shoulder cannon, and immediatley sets about connecting various cables to it for various nefarious purposes. "Well." she muses aloud, "If I may be so bold, Scrapper, there's something to be said for repurposing available parts, and I admire that, buuuuut...well, do we have a MISSION in mind for this GLORIOUS construction?" She affixes a few more parts in place, using an instrument that only LOOKS like a staple gun. Really. Welding pieces of Autobots together to create some kind of horrible monstrosity? This is right up Buzzkill's alley. "I like what you did with the giant pincher," she says, stepping out from a convieniently placed shadow to admire her fellow Decepticon's abomination. "Very creative. And effective, I'm sure." Six Lasers' Injunction Fleets are dreaded throughout the galaxy, indeed. As for Americon, he mostly follows Shockwave's gaze as he reviews that information. Various sounds of cutting, fitting and connecting come from the repair bed as Carjack sets about his business. Got to build a housing around the core, then install all the connections, add some additional shock absorbion and structural protection to said casing. "Considering Junkions are just scrapped together already," he comments over his shoulder admist some soldering flashes, "it makes it relatively uncomplicated to affix other unorthadox augmentations that were not part of the original assembly." "Mission? That's up for debate. Objective? Yes." Scrapper gleefully retorts, finishing the roughshod cage he'll be held in. "Imagine their plight when this horrible creation smashes in a wall, putting life in danger.. and they can't properly counterattack, with an ally supplying it's lifeforce." the Constructicon claps his hands and lets out an evil cackle. When Buzzkill steps out of the shadows like a bauce, Scrapper afixes her with an appropriate nod of his chin. "We'll see. Mind lending a hand?" he asks of the Junkion Arr-K-Ick's still form.. to be moved and clamped into place on what looks to be a scorpion monster.. thing. The data on Six Lasers scrolls past the screen at a blazing pace. It may be too fast for Americon to keep up, but Shockwave has no problem absorbing it all. He learns about the economic powerhouse that is the Tea Cup Ride, the pivotal role in history that the Battle for the Ferris Wheel played, and the horrifying aftermath of the Log Ride massacre. But most of all, Shockwave learns that the Six Lasers system is the perfect place for Scrapper to waste his time on. Clearly, the Commander is regretting making the trip here. "Ah." Cackle pauses, ever so slightly, in her weldings and tapings and staplings. "I see. So it's a...practice exercise, then. Admittedly one we can use on the PUNY AUTOBOTS when the time comes...I appreciate that." and she returns to her work! "It'd still help if we had clearer mission parameters." A pause. "You know, so we know where to put the lasers." Robotic Bald Eagle watches some of this information in horror. He does manage to catch some of it, and it's enough. "Uh... Commander, I'm gonna make sure we haven't infringed on any of their trademarks, just to be safe." A datapad materializes in one wing, somehow holding it as he taps it with a feather on his other wing. Ah yes, Americon must have seen the note on the killing fields of the Copyright Wars, Shockwave considers. "Acceptable," he replies. Although it pains him, Shockwave knows they'll have to pay at least a token amount of respect towards a powerful corporation like this when it comes to copyright. RIP Skyfire. Never4get. "Brilliant. And Evil. Evilly Brilliant, even. And all for science to boot." Carjack walks back over to the station holding the frankenstiened 'monster' and sets down a conglomeration of wires and electronic internals splaying off the lasercore containment module, along with a few extra support structures for connection the whole thing. "Laser core, ready for intergration!" Buzzkill tries not to touch Junkions at all unless she really has to but she'll make an exception for science. "You mean help you build the most terrifying and disturbing weapon you've thought up yet? Gladly." Come on, does he really need to ask? The Insecticon grabs the unmoving Junkion with the stupid name (she's idly wonders if it's even still alive) and hefts it up over her shoulder before activating her anti-gravs and rising up to the top of the horrible scorpion monster thing where she unceremoniously dumps it and clamps it into position. SCIENCE! Robotic Bald Eagle , after a few moments, gasps when he sees that the next episode of Decepticonz was going to be set in Six Lasers. He begins sending the 'actors' and 'director' of the production a frantic series of texts, which all read: 'ABORT! ABORT!' Meanwhile, Americon's stash of mirrors lies undefended, waiting to be placed on somewhere or something. Jumping, with some anti grav help, to the top of the horrible Scorpion mish-mash.. Scrapper leans out of the way so the Junkion body doesn't land on him. Pulling a mess of wires from the midsection, he starts to connect them all in a relative quick fashion. "Here, Carjack." he points to the exposed chest cavity of the Junkion's stomach. "We'll simply bypass this Junk's higher subroutines by running them through this dilapidated core's." he surmises, getting out of the way so Carjack can get to work. Off to the side, he afixes some elbow jointed mini-machine guns. "The aim is pretty general, so the more lasers.. the better, Cackle." Scrapper smiles. Carjack giggles vilely at that. "A perfect application of the method Overture used to bypass Backfire's control!" Cants his head to the side with a brief pause. ".. Not that Backfire had many higher functions to override." Shrugs his clunky shoulders and anti-gravs up to put the core module into place. Welds the supports down, then plugs in all the bypass and support system interfaces. "Junkions have higher subroutines?" Cackle asks. "Not that I've had much chance to study them in depth, but still. I got the impression they were self-perpetuating constructs without higher functions, hence their repetition of Terran popular culture memes." Carjack replies "That's why this is perfect usage!" Robotic Bald Eagle grins smugly at Shockwave. "Crisis averted, commander!" Meanwhile, some Decepticon gumbies are standing around a cheap replica of a Six Lasers attraction, staring befuddled at their datapads. "Huh. Anyone else get a bunch of texts saying--" "--abort?" "Yeah, but abort what? Whatever." They shrug and resume filming. Americon hops off of Shockwave to transform into robot mode and stand in front of the weird robot they're building. "Huh... it needs something... I mean, I like all the stingers and claws, but it needs some unique gimmick. Like a karate chop action or something." Off on the other side, Scrapper is busily afixing the other pincher arm.. this one with a large cannon afixed to its forearm. Making the neccesary welds and connections, the Constructicon takes a step back to give it a quick once over. The construct is one helluva piece of work. Pincher arms on both sides straddle the wide chassis, ten arms (some from the Autobot parts) act as the legs that run parallel along the frame, leading to a tail with Perceptor's microscope cannon. Oh yeah, and about eleventy separate weaponry points on the frame consisting of lasers, cannons, machine-guns, etc. "Gimmick?" Scrapper turns towards Americon. "Yes! Karate claws!" Cackle chimes in, and immediately sets to fiddling about with important-looking components- at which point the claw starts clanking and moving up and down at semi-regular intervals. Carjack turns to glare at Americon. "Gimmick? What do you think this is, some sort of dumb action figure toyline?" Cackle also adds a Powermaster component. "Kung-Fu Grip," Buzzkill suggests as she circles around the robot scorpion thing, taking in every detail of it's construction. It's the best kind of grip! "You know, for gripping things. Like Autobots." Shockwave finally turns away from his research towards the giant robot scorpion thing. He silently judges the contraption, ignoring any artistic merit and instead looking only for efficiency and effectiveness. Robotic Bald Eagle gives Carjack a sad face. "It's... not? Well... I dunno... I was just thinking... Disco?" Americon undergoes a patriotic transformation into his All-American robot mode! "What is this disco you speak of?" Scrapper actually looks somewhat intrigued, leaning in closer to the patriotic Decepticon. Carjack just shakes his head at the birdbrain (literally) and clamps down the armor/hatch over the chest of the monstrousity. "Well this is ready to go." Shockwave turns at Carjack's comment. "It is finished?" he asks, giving the monster an appraising look. "What does it do?" Americon sighs. "Well, I just thought..." He walks over to his mirrors, gives another sigh, then... begins welding them together into a giant ball! "Something like this! I mean, we also need lasers--that's done, so never mind--and we'd need a dance floor, too, and a bouncer to make sure squares don't get in and that there's plenty of hot chicks." Cackle , grease-smudged and singed and suchlike, totally looks up over in Americon's directon. "I am totally a hot chick!" a pause. "But mostly a hot chick for SCIENCE!" "Hrm, make the preparations Americon." Scrapper replies, giving the eccentric Con some credit. Hey, maybe this dance floor thing and ball would work to befell the Autobots? Maybe not. Either way, it's been made out of recycled parts and at very minimal cost. Looking over to a couple of gumbies, Scrapper gives them some orders and they snap to attention. Overlaying the chassis with layers of armor and finally.. a large rectangular dance floor that's been hastily assembled. The rest, is up to Americon. Carjack isn't sure how a -dance floor- is going to help... but the mirrored ball? "We've got lasers... if you put the ball on the tail it could hang it over its head and shoot the lasers into it." He flares his hands out to the sides. "And make them reflect all over the place." Americon yells, "That's the WORST kind of hot chick!" as he wanders off. Eventually he returns with a wheelbarrow containing a giant WELCOME mat and some robot parts. After spray painting the WELCOME mat with glossy white paint, he fashions a crude robot made partly out of a bumper car. It looks like it has a somewhat grumpy expression on his face. "HAHA! The Autobots won't get anywhere NEAR my dance floor with this bouncer to stop them! What? Oh, yeah, shoot lasers at the ball! I think that's where I was going with that. Maybe."
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