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| - Firestorm made her way into the always busy and always noisy barracks, a small cube of energon in one hand and a data pad in the other. "Feh. You'd think they'd up our payment, but no, they have more 'important' things to spend it on." The femme grumbled to herself as she moseyed into the common room, which was surprisingly empty save for a few mechs. Must've been doing rounds. Goa is balled up in the far corner of his bunk, busily reviewing the fight in the glade. A stylus clicks back and forth idly across his fingers. "So that's what got Starscream so dinged up..." Firestorm passed through into the lower ranked area of the barracks, since seekers kinda had their own spot, and pulled right up to the grounder's little cubicle space. "Ah, there you are. Heh, easier finding you on the database than in this place." She'd grin before finishing off her energon drink and leaning on the open part of the wall. Goa looks over and upward, retracting the stylus into his wrist and setting the tablet aside. "So you found me. Learn anything about me in that database I should know?" Swinging his legs off to the side, he stands. Firestorm smirked, inviting herself in and taking a seat on his bunk. "Nothin' you don't already know. I could've looked deeper if I wanted, but I won't do that to yah." Crumpling the empty cube she'd toss it into the little trash bin of his before giving him a curious look. "So you'd said something before about telling me something?" Goa leans on the far wall, one arm stabilizing to his side, the other rubbing at the back of his helmet. He stares into space, considering... "Yeah, hey. Far be it from me to spurn a nice 'con like yourself... Do you happen to have patrol duty right now?" He glances out to the sides, then looks at Firestorm hopefully. Firestorm narrowed a ruby eyes at him, "Nope, nothing for a while." With arms crossed she'd turn to rest her back upon the bunk pole, one leg bent up onto the bed. "Can't get rid of me that easily, grounder. Now spill it." She'd of course say this in a nice tone instead of being demanding. Goa grunts aloud, sitting down and sinking slightly into the intersection of floor and wall. If you're going to be backed into a corner, he figures, may as well take it all the way... "I know what your crystal is. Where it comes from..." His voice is practically a whisper now. "That's the part that worries me." Firestorm nearly drops the data pad in her hands, scrambling to keep it in her grasp before finally setting it aside and pretty much staring at him. "Y-...You know?? But how?! I.. I thought I was the only one to know about the experiments." Her hardened personality was melting quickly now as she looked desperate, fingers gripping hard at the bed as she leaned forward towards him. "How! How do you know?! Were you working for them??" Goa rises back to his feet and presses into the surface behind him, as if trying to scale the wall with his tires. "Them... Them? Autobots? Slag no! But I didn't ... I watched that stuff kill mechs. Not the kind of killing we do. Horrible, inside-out, overload them. It was..." His gaze droops to the floor as he scratches around in long-quiet memory files. "There were no Autobots on that planet. It was hush-hush. They shouldn't know about that material." He scans around the room feverishly now, clearly paranoid about the implications. Firestorm easily saw his uneasiness, leaning back to give him more breathing room as she frowned. "Sorry, Goa... It's just been so long. So long without knowing or hearing a thing..." Slouching over she'd rest elbows on her knees, hands covering dark grey face to hide her emotions. "We've both seen it kill mechs. But... have you seen it ruin them so much... Some could barely process a sentence. The stragglers couldn't be kept, though... Rejects, shot right there. And some even by me... forced to do it to keep me strong... Those pit crawlers were nothing but slag..." Goa turns and, cautiously but deftly, sits next to Firestorm, hands alternating between clasp and steeple in front of him. The shutters over his eyes drop shut. "We had to use it as fuel. They all started to show ... signs. It crippled them in different proportions. The big ones took a while to show on the outside, but they lost their logic chips long before that." A pause. "The little ones were lucky. Like me. Could run on it for a little while, with just the right rate of synthesis, but it just burned them out eventually. Over-energized all the time, but worse." His optics flicked open again, now staring a hole through the wall. "But you knew that. I think we have a common goal, you and I." Firestorm finally moved her hands from her face, the clear sign of diluted energon tears staining her palms and cheeks before they were wiped away. "But... how did we survive it then? Luck?" She glanced to him, blinking her optics clear while trying to push back her memories and focus on the present. "And how did enough even get here on Cybertron if you said it was another planet?" Goa shifts away slightly. "Can't speak for you. I just didn't take the damage. Sure scored my armor at the time, though, and I could swear my energon's a little bluish." He smirks, and facing Firestorm now, continues, "You'd be more qualified to tell me that, though, stabby?" "There was another vessel. Apparently, someone here thought it was too important to let the find lay fallow, though I'll be pit-bound if I know who." Firestorm snorted softly. "Important? I guess, though it seems that didn't work out so well. All those tests and only I was left. And even I have my flaws." She grumbled softly to herself, the expression on her face clearly showing deep thought as millions of things raced through her processors. "The only thing I know about it is that the Autobots were involved, at least... that's what I was told. I honestly never saw their faces, so who really knows for sure..." Goa says, "Decepticons aren't that wasteful." Mech's almost folding himself into the crook of his bunk -- he carefully taps the edge of Firestorm's wing, and smiles, with the slightest brow-edge of plaintively. "Us, least of all. We should find the sorry excuse for a 'Con you should be using those powers on." Firestorm took a moment to process his words, since he didn't always word himself the best of ways. But she soon had a delighted and slightly manic smirk start to crawl across her lips as finger blade extended a bit on one hand. "Hmm... Yeah, but where would we start looking? Who to start suspecting? Some Decepticons can be so... deceptive." Eyes gazed over the thick blade as it was turned this way and that in mild interest, more focused on her thoughts. Goa pats Firestorm's wing more confidently. The other hand seems to be drawn to the beak of his helmet, as if he had an ache in the CPU. "Start... start. Start patiently. This isn't really the sort of thing I wanted to bring up in the barracks, but slag it." His far hand falls away from the seeker as he looks around the room, distracted with damage control. "I sent a log ahead, slow transmission. Don't know who got it. Maybe Shockwave? Then the information would've disseminated from there. How they got a sample back early, though..." The pads of the mech's fingers squeak against his helmet, scratching it thoughtfully. Firestorm narrowed her eyes at the mention of that name. "Erf... Shockwave. I swear to Primus that guy has no spark and is all AI or something... But it wouldn't be good if he got his servos on that info. You never know what he might do next... that expressionless face of his, ugh." Firestorm hunched her shoulders a moment in a mock shudder. "But it'd be hard getting into any of his computer files. I suspect he'd have everything heavily encrypted and hidden." Slipstream walks in from a patrol mission, she's a bit dirty from her travels. Moving straight to her barracks shelf she takes a seat and looks around to see who is around. She nods toward Firestorm as she leaves, pointedly ignoring Goa. Goa taps his index fingers against each other. "Don't jump to conclusions. I mean, /we/ can see the illogic of a thing like that-- Hey, it's Slippy!" Slipstream doesn't even acknowledge Goa noticing her, she turns herself to face the wall, sitting there quietly. Goa crosses his arms behind his head. "Been a week. How's work?" Dead silence from the femme seeker. "Don't make me come over there." A little snort, but still silence. Combat: Goa does a Generic Combat Roll on Slipstream and SUCCEEDS! A crumpled-up energon cube flies across the room and taps the seeker in the back of the head. Goa finds himself unable to repress a snicker. And you get absolutely no reaction. Goa uncurls himself to stand at attention. "Any reason you're here?" Slipstream shifts from sitting to lying down on her back, that would be about all the answer you may be getting as she looks straight up at the wall. Hands placed against the lower section of her torso. He welcomes himself to a seat at the foot of her bunk. "You know, since you've been staying on the other side of the level pretty much all of the time." A finger upon his chin, he says, "I've been switching around, actually, and every time I moved, you moved to the mathematically furthest bunk possible." Slipstream doesn't look at you, doesn't even move. Just looks upwards, maybe just counting rivets to put herself to sleep. Goa moves a pointed finger close enough to the edge of Slipstream's wing to feel the residual heat from patrol flight, but no further. "I'm not touching you." +Roll: Slipstream rolls against her Agility Stat and succeeds by 11! The total roll was 5. +Roll: Goa rolls against his Agility Stat and fails by 3! The total roll was 17. Slipstream moves with a quickness that may take you by surprise as she whacks your hand away from her wing. Goa snaps his arm away and cradles it, examining the dent. "Hohoh. Learned to aim? Maybe we should compare our skills again." He leans away. "By the way, any more seeker-type news about that time machine deal? You guys get around so much faster than us, and all." Slipstream puts her hand back where it was originally. Silence again. Goa's hand seems to thwack a heel exhaust nozzle of its own accord. Slipstream doesn't react to that sound. Thwack, thwack, thwack. Slipstream slides her feet up so her legs are bent at the knee. Goa's drum routine continues, undisturbed. Slipstream doesn't react, as if she wasn't even listening. Maybe she turned off her audios all together. Goa notices. Always one to up the ante, he transforms his arm to a painting nozzle and begins spray painting the femme's feet bright fuchsia. Goa busily, meticulously details between the individual plates. Slipstream may have her audios off, but her sense of smell is certainly on. The stench of paint fumes rolls up and she sits bolt upright and sees you are painting her feet! There's a growl that starts very low... then slowly it crescendos upwards to a full on scream! Slipstream says,”GGGGGGGOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Goa cuts the nozzle. "Don't scream, it's fine. I made sure not to get any on the actual bunk." Slipstream SNARLS at Goa, there is practically steam rolling off her chassis she's just THAT angry. She's trembling from head to foot, just holding herself back from actually killing him. Goa decides now is a good time to stand and skate innocently out of the barracks. Slipstream growls as she watches him skate away, then slowly and still shaking hard she gets off her bunk. Her feet are painted fuchsia now and are still wet, so any drip off her feet go onto the floor. Slowly, without even saying one more word, she moves for that barracks door. Combat: Megatron does a Generic Combat Roll on Goa and FAILS! Combat: Megatron does a Generic Combat Roll on Goa and FAILS! Combat: Megatron does a Generic Combat Roll on Goa and SUCCEEDS! Combat: Megatron attacks Goa with melee Level: 1 and HITS! A black hand on a silver arm snaps out of around a corner and GRABS Goa. Goa flails, wheels still in gear and amiably rolling out from under him. -- uhh, what happened here? maybe some OOC notes I missed -- Slipstream is out the door, none the wiser what is befalling Goa. After all her audios are turned off. Slipstream stops, looking around to see where Megatron is from her position. "Sir?" she turns her audios back on. -- -- Megatron is standing just outside the door, his optics blazing as he holds on painfully tight to Goa. He states, "This is going too far. Goa, you do NOT attack other Decepticons, not even in jest." On the 'not' he tosses Goa towards the far wall. Combat: Megatron attacks Goa with melee Level: 3 and HITS! Combat: Goa's Armor buckles but remains functional. Slipstream steps back as Goa is about to fly by. Then stands at attention, waiting to be addressed. All the while that paint... that fuchsia that clashes with the black ... dries slowly. +Roll: Goa rolls against his Intelligence Stat and succeeds by 4! The total roll was 7. Goa makes a decidedly square and green-flecked dent in the wall, head lolling in a momentary daze before the mech stumbles to his feet. He bows deeply, looking over to Slipstream all the while. "... Acknowledged, sir, but perhaps you could clarify what an attack is?" Megatron states "What you just did, if the evidence I see before my optics is correct. You were told to AVOID each other unless ON DUTY. You have ten seconds to explain why you didn't, Goa. And then I want Slipstream's side of the story." Goa shakes his head. "Wasn't aware the order extended past the week's end, sir." Slipstream doesn't even LOOK at Goa, she just stands there looking straight ahead. Saying nothing. Perfect little soldier. Megatron folds his arms, glowering, waiting for that explanation. Goa's shutters blink. "Is there something else, Lord Megatron...?" Slipstream is still shaking mad, waiting at attention. Goa almost zones out for a moment, contemplating Megatron's appearance in conjunction with his conversation with Firestorm earlier. He frowns subtly. Megatron narrows his optics and reaches out to SMACK Goa upside the head. "Explain why you did this. You have ONE SECOND left." Combat: Megatron attacks Goa with melee Level: 1 and HITS! Combat: Goa's Armor buckles but remains functional Goa snaps out of it somewhat violently and collapses against the wall. "No reason! Had hoped to chat with Slipstream, sir!" Slipstream just waits her turn, patiently... hoping the paint on her feet isn't quickly drying. "And when is it proper Decepticon protocol to use PAINT..." He points to Slipstream's drying feet, "As a form of CHATTING?" He whirls, starting to pace back and forth. "You are Decepticon warriors. You are _supposed_ to be the finest soldiers on Cybertron! The scourge of the skies and land, feared by all! And yet, here you are bickering like KIDLETS or AUTOBOTS." He turns to glower at the non-jet-mode Decepticon at that last. Slipstream watches Megatron pace past her as he speaks while still looking straight ahead. She too is waiting for the reply from Goa. Goa fails to suppress a flinch at the term "Autobot". In fact, there's the outline of a snarl on his face. "Your orders, sir?" he says, standing and straightening his back out indignantly. "I am still awaiting the PROPER explanation of why you did this. If you 'do not know' then maybe we should allow the interrogators to find out," Notes Megatron coldly. "You will not harass Slipstream again, and do not tell me you do not know what 'harassment' is. If you lived through the Academy you will know. Until further notice unless on duty when you will behave PROPERLY you will show Slipstream all the proper respect that a femme is due. You will also give her half of all of your rations until such a time as I decide. I should not have to trouble myself with these petty squabbles." He notes, glowering at both. Slipstream says, "Sir?" Goa holds up a single finger in pause, waiting patiently for the Emperor to stop talking. "Sir... I never went through the academy in the first place. I was trained and equipped on the field." He gazes at the floor and ponders, in a faint whisper to himself, "What were you doing down here..." Skystalker peeks his head in through the door and takes a moment to peer around before he belts out, "What's with all the yelling?!" 'Cause obviously more shouting will resolve this problem. "I was trying to have a peaceful moment by myself down the hall and I could hear you dunderheads from there!" He blinks at Slipstream then at Megatron. He promptly fully enters the room and straightens up and salutes to the big cannon, "Sir! I have returned from the Delta quadrant to answer Starscream's orders of my presence needed planet side!" Megatron turns to focus on Slipstream, before Skystalker walks in and interrupts. He was about to say something, but waves off the salute. "At ease. And he did? I recall no such orders." he rumbles. "Speak, Slipstream." Goa seems to exhale from all his ventilation fans as the spotlight is taken off of him for a moment. Slipstream nods to Megatron as she is addressed. "I followed your orders sir. I kept to my section of the barracks, going out of my way to keep a distances between myself and Goa during this past week." A pause, "I came in from a patrol shift and took my usual spot. Goa talked toward me. I ignored him, figuring if I did perhaps he would just get bored and leave me alone. Then he sat on the edge of my bunk." she keeps her gaze firmly forward, stiffly at attention, the shaking of her chassis having lessened. "I suppose since I wasn't speaking to him that he decided to paint my feet. As to why, I suppose the grounder just... likes me." A little shrug. Skystalker looks between Goa and Slipstream and rolls his optics, "And you say Firestorm and *I* are bad?!" He pauses and adds, "At least I don't bring our issues into base. I suppose she at least has enough sense to respect my rank." He smirks and rubs his chin before looking back to Megatron, "Oh... I was on my survey of Planet X in sector 2816. I received a radio communication long range from Cybertron. Starscream had asked for me to be part of his team on the jaunt through time." On that matter, suddenly Megatron was focused utterly on Skystalker. "... WHAT jaunt through time?" Slipstream says, "He was testing the time machine, sir." Megatron says, "I was asking Skystalker. I want to know what happened on this jaunt!" +Roll: Goa rolls against his Intelligence Stat and fails by 8! The total roll was 19. Goa flattens himself and tries to slip out of the barracks by Slipstream while this discussion is bouncing around. +Roll: Megatron rolls against his Awareness Stat and succeeds by 11! The total roll was 7. Megatron lifts his arm and fires his cannon at the door that Goa was moving towards. Slipstream goes silent... All the while that paint is drying. Goa plumes backwards off his heels and practically reappears cowering under a bunk. Skystalker takes a step back as he becomes the sole source of Megatron's attention. "Uh... I guess, we were testing to see if the device actually worked. I had to leave shortly after we arrived. So I am unaware as to what happened." He jerks a thumb at Slipstream and Goa, "They were there longer than I... so perhaps they'd be more qualified to answer you Lord Megatron." he coughs and adds, "I only remained planet side to see if you had any orders for me before I returned to my post in space. To monitor anything happening outside of Cybertron." Megatron folds his arms. "So were you on the jaunt, as requested, or not?" asks Megatron, his optics blazing with impatience. "And you two as well. Yes or no: Did you use the time travel device?" Slipstream says, "We were asked to join Starscream in time sir. However, I cannot remember where we went or any other details. I suspect it may just be some sort of side effect of the machine." Megatron frowns. "The question was yes or no, Slipstream," he repeats again. Goa's glowing red optics are nodding affably in the dark. Slipstream says, "Yes." Megatron nods and focuses on Goa. "Yes or no: Did you time travel?" Goa squawks, "Yes. Presumably. ...Yes." Megatron states, "There is no 'presumably'. There is yes or no." His gun arm twitches slightly. Goa shrinks further back under the bunk structure. "Affirmative on the time travel, sir!" Slipstream says, "Sir? May I go wash this paint off my feet?" Megatron nods, turning now to Skystalker. "Yes or no, did you time travel?" He glances to Slipstream, and her feet. "Very well. However, you will remain in a private barracks room until I decide what to do with you both. I also want a detailed report on EVERYTHING that happened on this unauthorized 'jaunt'." Slipstream frowns at this. But salutes and heads off to the showers to find solvent for the paint. Skystalker nods and holds up both hands defensively, "Yes Lord Megatron... we travelled somewhere. I too do not remember where it was and what we did. I suspect... that we need our processors to be protected heavier than it is so the travel doesn't scramble our circuits." He blinks, "Does that go for me as well... am I quarantined to the barracks or shall I resume my duties in space?" "Did I speak your name or speak to you, soldier?" asks Megatron. "No, you are not confined to barracks. However, you will not return to space. We must conserve energon. Whoever put you back on space patrol is a fool. We must patrol the planet. You will remain with Goa and be his disciplinarian. If he steps out of line in any way, shoot him in the foot." Goa scoots halfway-out cautiously. "What that guy said. I just wandered in, Starscream put some kind of arm devices on us, did some science, then I was back here again." He peers over at Skystalker curiously. "... Sky-talker, was it?" "Goa, you DO NOT MOVE until I say you can leave," barks Megatron. "Or do I need to weld you to the floor? And no, that report is unacceptable. Did you not hear the words "detailed'? I will expect it within forty eight hours, NOT now." Skystalker rubs his chin and regards Megatron, "Sir, I believe it was you that put me on space patrols after Crystal City began harvesting random cosmic radiation waves. You wanted to set up an identical system on the furthest of Cybertron's moons. He suddenly pulls out his beam rifle and fires a purple lancing blast at Goa's foot. "Wing commander Skystalker will do just fine, I also answer to sir." Megatron turns to focus on Skystalker then. "You do NOT correct me, Skystalker," he states in his raspy voice. "I had recalled those orders. Obviously someone did not relay them. You will also be receiving one quarter of his energon rations until his punishment is done. Obviously his field training is seriously lacking." Goa locks himself in place, grimacing at the glancing blast so near his tire, but unmoving. Another flat? No? Lovely. "About that..." A smirk crosses the emerald grounder's face as he contemplates what Megatron would look like with Slipstream's newly-acquired paint detail. Skystalker backs away from Megatron slowly to move closer to Goa, "No, of course not Lord Megatron. Obviously Soundwave had misinterpreted your orders to me. Yes sir, I will be his shadow," he says beside Goa and cracks his knuckles, "I'll make sure he abides by Decepticon standards. Now... since he is not to leave the barracks, does that mean he may not participate on raiding missions or just no recreation time when off duty?" "No, he can leave the barracks for duties, but nothing else. There is to be no leisure time. When off duty you will train him in the drill halls with the other instructors on the proper behavior of a true Decepticon, so he can stop pretending to be one," notes Megatron, not hiding his insults at all. "When you are off duty we will have another take over for you." Goa stands up and composes himself, eyes clearly narrowed to a glare again as he salutes. Skystalker pounds his fist against his chassis and nods with a bow to Megatron. "As you command lord Megatron," he says obediently, then he looks at Goa. "I will whip him into an elite Decepticon warrior even if it kills him sir." "That is just what I hoped Skystalker." states Megatron, beginning to calm down as he looks sharply at Goa. "You will become proud of what you will be, in time. I will inquire in a few days as to his progress." Megatron says, "And one more thing, since he likes to assume so much and take things literally or try to find loopholes: He is in no way, shape or form to have ANY contact with Slipstream off duty unless he is dead. He is also to clean up every bit of paint in this area and is to have no more access to any paint or vandalism equipment." Goa kowtows with a near-comical quality and rolls backward slightly, snapping a sandblaster arm into place. "Understood." Skystalker nods firmly to Megatron, "Your will shall be done sir." Then he gives Goa a very hard nudge to the side. "Show lord Megatron some gratitude for his kindness in your punishment whelp!" Then he points the barrel of his beam rifle at Goa's head. "Regardless of his actions... the mighty Megatron deserves your respect at ALL time!" He practically kicks Goa in the back in the direction of the area he has to clean. "Get to work! What are you waiting for, a laser etched invitation?!" +Roll: Goa rolls against his Intelligence Stat and fails by 0! The total roll was 11. Megatron glowers at Goa and nods. "Continue then. He can recharge when the cleaning is done. There are cleaning supplies in the closet of course. I don't want the floors scuffed. And Goa? I do not want to hear your name screamed like that ever again, nor do I want to come across such a deplorable scene again." He turns to depart. Goa puffs a blast of sand in front of Skystalker's face before wordlessly turning about and getting to work on the affected floor panels. Skystalker takes a few steps away from Goa as he starts to work on the floors. He turns a knob on his rifle to a medium setting and he points it at the back of Goa's head and trails it down. "Let's see..." He then turns to nod to Megatron as he starts to leave. The future master leans against a nearby bunk. "Are you serious... What is your deal with Slipstream? This seems a bit excessive to me for a simple crush." Goa's back armor looks fairly nonconductive to rifle fire, though perhaps at this range... He slowly turns his head to the side, peering back at his new taskmaster over the lip of his helmet. "Permission to speak freely... sir?" Skystalker hrms and cranks his rifle to full power which causes it to hum menacingly, "Granted." Goa smiles and turns back to his work, now in the process of re-polishing that particular area. "It's funny."
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