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| - Darkmount - Workshop White cement tile floors complete with floor drains mark this room as a maintenance space even before you see all the machine tools. Toolchests and workbenches are mounted on the walls, with the center of the room left open for access to the lifts and hoists. Air hoses for pneumatic tools hang in reels from the ceiling, easily accessable from any part of the room, and at several points along the rear wall there are connections for fuel, coolant and welding gas hoses. Ravage saunters his way in, carrying Scorn as only a Ravage can, and deposits her on one of the tables. Gently...of course. Once done, he makes his way to a corner of the room and perches atop some equipment to watch the proceedings. So much for a relaxing day today. Scorn thought she was just going to make a normal visit to Cyclonus' office, but no, one of Backfire's seekers had to show up, stab Cyclonus, and throw her down an elevator shaft with him. Once would be safe to assume she's not very happy. But at least Ravage delivers her quickly enough, the medics taking over and working to set her bent limbs back into place and allow her to shift back to her base mode before they start patching up. "Nh.. fragging seeker.." She mutters on the medical slab, to drained to make much more or a fuss or move. "Fragging Backfire.." Striding into the Repair Bay, Misfire is without Aimless or the body. He looks around the room as he crosses his arms, smiling to himself. His Comm beeps and Misfire speaks into it. "No, Aimless I am looking for that form right now...you just stay with the body and the Morgue Team back there..." Misfire chuckles as Aimless curses back at him. Misfire looks at Scorn..."Uh, Scorn...I mean, Backfire is a lot of things. I mean he is...was..a friend, We sure he ain't being duped or mind controlled or something...Backfire was like Loyal, Loyal...he once talked me back into...err... I mean...He is a good warrior and stuff..." Kickback is on his way to the medical facility to find Scorn. The ostensible, visible reason he projects is that he is somewhat sweet on her, and concerned for her wellbeing. This is to be expected; Insecticons are a bit clannish. Might have to do with them existing in swarms. On a secondary, deeper level, some might know that he is invested in utilizing her towards his own ends, and he is not about to let all his fine work go up in smoke so easily. On a tertiary, well-hidden level, Scorn has information about this 'Queen' of a Hive, and if it has anything to do with Insecticons, he will be on that like wings on a Seeker. With Shrapnel and Bombshell currently out of the picture, he intends to build the insecticons into a collective swarm under his exclusive0] control, so that should the two others return, he will be able to bend them, one way or another, to his will. He has the opportunity to seize power. He's not about to let some outsider snatch it from him after so long a wait. Blast Off enters the room and simply observes from the shadows. He likes to lurk silently and look somewhat ominous. It's a thing. He lets the others do theirs. Ravage narrows his optics. "Agreed. I should step up patrols." He pauses for a moment. "Cyclonus. What shall we do with him in the interim?" He looks towards Misfire and Kickback. Oh, good, the cavalry has arrived. He looks Scorn over. "It would be far easier if I had more actionable intel, however." LAST TIME ON THE TRANSFORMERS.. Cyclonus gets dangerously close to solving the case, when he calls for a meeting in his office. Much to Scorn and company's surprise, his revelation is brought short when an assassin is already in the office.. a large rusty blade protruding from the Unicronian's chest. After a quick skirmish, Scorn and the Seeker assailant known only as 'Pantsfire' take a tumble down an elevator shaft.. ending in the Seeker's death. With his last words, he tells the Insecticon she is NOT the Queen. But can you truly trust someone who always lies? As always, the Autobot symbol revolves to reveal the Decepticon logo with that ever familiar "Brrrr-drrrr-umppp-brrrr-drrrrr" sound to indicate the show has started. It just so happens that Darkmount's repair bay is located in the workshop, which not only makes it convienent for Scorn's recovery.. but also the autopsy on Pantsfire. Rolling in with the body in tow, Necropsic and his team settle into a slab near the others. Regarding the collected masses, the autopsy gumbie begins his work by starting a tape recorder and laying it on a table beside him. "Subject known as 'Pantsfire', autopsy 0076, attending Pathologist Necropsic." he speaks aloud for documentation. Scorn narrows optics faintly at Misfire's approach, the femme snorting softly and pulling lips thin. "Hmph. I'll agree that he's loyal, even if he is a collosal idiot. I wouldn't be surprised if he's under the influence of another. It's already happened once before." AKA Galvatron Junior. A glance to Ravage next. "My main concern with Lord Cyclonus is in making sure he's not another fake like last time. And if not, we can just move him to medbay. ..Hopefully he'll be under the entire time so he won't know we brigged him." She mutters that last part and looks down in thought, but brings optics back up when Kickback enters and Ravage speaks again. "The seeker mentioned a 'Queen'. Kickback, Harrow, and I heard this mentioned before during our imprisonment. Oddly enough he said I'm not the Queen.. but why would he say that..?" Gaze falls again, a confused look growing on her features. Backbone says, "There is no crying in the medical ward." Combat: Backbone expertly repairs Scorn's injuries. Backbone says, "Well... Since you asked so nicely." Combat: Backbone refuels Scorn's energon reserves. "Why indeed," Kickback muses calmly, walking over to Scorn's berthside. "I am just sayin'" Misfire holds his hands up to Scorn. "Maybe we question him first, before killing him..." He looks around, "Unless you just want to eat him..err..Kill him..." Misfire looks around, "'Sup!" He offers again, before muttering to himself. "What did Aimless say...Bros First...right..." Misfire looks around again, "Queen? If Scorn isn't the Queen...can't see how she isn't. Then Buzzkill?" Misfire shudders. Ravage hmms. "A Queen. I assume they operate on Insecticon principles? If so, then who would be the ideal candidate for a Queen? I should think it to be a Seeker. Perhaps with a corrupted or confused logic chip." He flicks his tail and looks towards Kickback. "You would have been useful. Quarters were tight. Melee was the way to go... some sharp teeth would have been a great help." His attention turns to the corpse being rolled in. "Make sure you sever the head, Necropsic." His attention turns to Misfire. "Buzzkill is not a likely candidate for what seems to be an all-Seeker group. Unless they are not Seekers at all..." His optics flicker back to Pantsfire. Spinister stands in a corner of the room, arms folded across his chest. Sans Singe and Hairsplitter, he watches the debate quietly, a silent observer and representative of Director Contrail. Though, when Ravage tosses out his theory, the Targetmaster can't help but add his two cents. "..." Looking back at Spinister, Misfire points. "Yeah! Exactly!" He nods his head in agreement to Spinister's silent response. "That measure will not be required.." Necropsic replies to Ravage, pausing the tape recorder to do so. Depressing the button on the device, the Pathologist mech continues. "Subject was rendered inert by skrimish file 00387, which has yet to be submitted upon this autopsy." he denotes, giving Scorn and company a dour expression. "Subject was announced dead upon arrival by Calibratron at 1042 standard hours time. Autopsy will begin with a routine draining of energon as per Mortex ordered standard." Hooking up a line to the body, Necropsic then afixes a large container to the end of the feed and begins pumping the body of energon. The container begins to fill, the green noxious energon splashing around inside the object. "Of note, energon appears to be tainted. A curious shade of forest green, the aroma as well as the makeup is toxic to say the least. I will be forwarding a sample to Oil Slick for toxicology report." the gumbie notes into the recorder. "Buzzkill." Scorn scoffs. "If she were Queen she'd be as big as Trypticon by now." Since queen bees are larger, and because she likes calling Buzzkill fat. "Besides, she can hardly run the Insecticons. As if she'd be able to do the same with a bunch of seekers." With a grunt of effort, and against the wishes of the medics, Scorn places a hand on Kickback's shoulder and pulls herself up to sit, hissing at the pain from doing so. A glance to Pantsfire's corpse has her arching a brow. "..That's similar to Backfire's energon. Hrm.." Back to the others. "If it /is/ Buzzkill, however, it'd be best to keep an optic on her for a while." Ravage scowls. "I don't think you understood. I said cut off the head. I did not say to ensure his state of deactivation. If you will not, I am certain I can find someone who will, good Doctor." He glances around at the general dismissal of the theory offered, but offers no follow-on remarks. "That sounds like it matches what was found in the remains of the experimentation lab," Kickback says, thoughtful at the autopsy going on. He braces himself so Scorn can get a good look as she pulls on his shoulders. "There were fragments of energon conversion formulas in the lab," he says. "Your objection and secondary remarks have been noted, Ravage. As for the duration of the autopsy, the head shall remain afixed to his body for now." Necropsic bites out nastily at Ravage, continuing with his work. "Officers Scorn and Kickback have both addressed an odd curiosity, that this energon will likely match the energon sample kept on retainer of unit Backfire." he notes into the tape recorder, taking a sampling and giving it to a gumbie. "See that Oil Slick analyzes it at once." Necropsic orders, sending the little mech on his way. Once the body had been drained of energon, the Pathologist moves up to the chest cavity and prepares some tools. "Energon draining ended, begining interior invasive examination set at hour 1120 standard hours." Necropsic says, lining up a pair of braces to crack open the chest cavity.
* Skkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnnnnnnnppppp* "What in the blazes?" is all Necropsic can mutter, dropping the tape recorder to the ground and staring in utter disbelief. Ravage blinks. "What? Was I right? I was right, wasn't I. You can say it, I won't blow you up for admitting it." He chuckles softly and sits up, arching to get a better look at the autopsy taking place. Any mention of the head is very much forgotten at this point. Staring at the Doctor, Misfire kinda gathers what Necropsic is saying. "Say...if you got some of that Energon on you...you'd be ok right? Like if you wash your hands or something..." Misfire slowly makes his way towards the Sink and begins to wash his hands when he hears the most horrific sound...Pausing, Misfire slowly looks over his shoulder...his jaw dropping in disbelief... Spinister steps forward when Necropsic reacts, a hand on his non Hairsplitter sidearm. MEANWHILE... Singe and Hairsplitter go through Scorn and Kickback's respective living quarters. Talk of the 'hive queen' has not gone unnoticed. Scorn's brows knit and antennas perk up at Necropsic's exclamation, turning his way and steadying a hand on the edge of the berth to keep from falling off as she cranes her neck to see. "What? What is it?" Kickback moves between Necropsic and Scorn automatically. He watches, but his wings and antennae are tensed. MEANWHILE... Singe and Hairsplitter curse the sky because there is no way to get the upperhand on Kickback, cleverest of all Decepticons. "This is.. beyond comprehension." Necropsic reels aloud, stepping closer to examine the corpse better. "Subject Pantsfire is not a Seeker at all, but an.. Insecticon?" he rambles, tearing into the body now with scalpels and forceps. "Internal mechanisms would support that analysis, the inner workings are not like a Seeker at all. Here we have the digestion tract and pump for eating through matter and processing it, and the absence of inner stabilization clockers found in all Seekers.." he is furiously tearing through the corpse now, like a madmech on a mission. Suddenly, the gumbie who'd left with the sample returns to the tableside. "Luckily Oil Slick was on base, so it didn't take long." the useful little guy says aloud, "He said it not only matched Backfire's unique energon, but another signature we have on file." Pausing in his tracks, Necropsic turns to address the gumbie. "And?" The gumbie pauses, looking down and away before pointing a finger at Scorn. "Scorn's." Kickback looks down at Scorn. "Congratulations. You're a mother." Ravage hahahahs! "CALLED IT!" Ravage looks at those who mocked his idea. "You can apologize with energon snacks later." He looks between Scorn and the entering gumbie. Nothing is truly said, but he does slink back into the shadows as he watches Scorn in particular. Something feels...off, and the kitty is one to often times follow his intuition. This calls for...some investigation. "A mother?" Misfire states as he pulls out a bounty of flasks and ener-cigars from subspace, letting them clatter on the floor and he proceeds to light up one ener-cigar for himself. He looks over at Scorn. "Oh, I see BACKFIRE is good enough...but can't get that drink with Misfire..." Misfire deadpans and then laughs! "Saw that on Aimless' Tele-Novel Soapy Opera things back on Earth. I have been waiting ages to say that to someone!" Misfire seems pretty happy as he puffs. "Hahahah! What a Cycle. Gonna die...Scorn has a kid...Backfire isn't a traitor...just under weird Insecticon Voodoo..." Misfire looks around, "Uh no offense..." "Insecticon?" Scorn hisses. "He's been converting our Horde into seekers?? I swear to Primus I'll kill that Backfire.." She can already feel the energon boiling in her lines, but her anger drops immediatly, Scorn's expression falling to that of wide opticed surprise when the results come back for the energon. Hers. "That's.. That's impossible! You're wrong!" She suddenly snaps, throwing off a medic that tries to keep her on the medical berth and ducking past Kickback to yell in a blind rage in the gumbie's face. "You are /wrong/! It couldn't be me, check it again!!" "You were kidnapped. They could have taken samples," Kickback says dismissively as Scorcn pushes him aside. He's finding this terribly amusing, and yet intriguing. He lets Scorn express his shared disdain eloquently, as he waits to see what further testing reveals. "You dimwits, the energon match doesn't make it maternal." Necropsic replies to the bunch, climbing down and going over his datapad. "I swear, I've seen schematics like this before.." he trails, getting lost in his work and totally forgetting about the recording. Before Scorn can make it to the gumbie, two large burly titans step in and seize her by the arms. "Sorry, Officer Scorn.. I took the liberty of contacting security when I'd found the results." the little gumbie smiles at her. The titans escort her to the slab, but do not leave her side. "That's it!" Necropsic shouts aloud, rushing over towards the holo projector. After plugging in his datapad, the image projected is a coverpage for a submitted and failed project. It reads.. PROJECT INSECTICLONE Ravage keeps in the shadows, but he's starting for the door. "Do enlighten us," the cloaked feline starts, "as to why it could not possibly be yours, Scorn." He does not stick around for an answer, though...there are plenty of other eyes. Besides, he can always access the camera later. He's off to find this...lab, where Oil Slick did the tests, and the samples used. The last thing he really sees, much to his amusement, is Scorn about to get strong-armed into submission. Peering around the gumbies as they start to haul Scorn to the table, Misfire grabs a flask and another Ener-cigar. His clapped between his teeth, G2 style...Misfire peers around again, "Drink or smoke? To Celebrate or take your mind off..." Misfire offers through clenched teeth, the hint of a smile creeps on his face. "I knew we should have called an exterminator *ages* ago." Singe hovers in the doorway, placing his exo helmet over his fabulous hair. So...fabulous. "When you let too many bugs run around, there are bound to be problems." He sneers at Kickback. "Misfire, please keep Kickback company while Necropsic handles exposition." Spinister gives Misfire a nod and steps towards Kickback, armed with Hairsplitter. Oh, that little shit! Scorn isn't sure why, but that gumbie's smile just sends her tiping over the edge, and the security strong arming her doesn't help either. "Rrrargh!" Her usual cool and collected visage melts away to show her fury and she struggles feebly against the mechs, screeching at the gumbie while trying to get at him. But security does its job and bring her back to the medical slab. It takes a little bit, but she eventually she calms down enough for them to release her, Scorn hissing in threat at Misfire before just staring at the floor, trying to process all of this. Peering at Scorn, "Uh, another time...when you are more relaxed or something..." Misfire smiles shakily. Hearing, Singe, Misfire then looks at Spinister. Misfire pleads with his eyes...like a puppy...he then shivers as Spinister stares back. Turning to nod to Singe, "Uh, you got it, sir!" Misfire salutes as he saucers towards Kickback. "Heya...Kickback...How was death?" Misfire asks..."Wait, where are my manners, drink or a smoke?" Misfire offers Kickback the same items that he just finished offering Scorn. "Know any card games?" He asks as he continue to holds out the items. "This isn't an Insecticon at all." Necropsic continues, flashing the screen to different images from the report Buzzkill had filed. One diorama has an inner shot of Backfire's head unit, spacious head unit at that, with a small blinking red light in it. Another is of the pods being prepared in the lab by Scorn, the next of the operation which planted them inside his head. "They're the matured forms of the Insecticlones you 'mothered', for lack of a better term, with Backfire." he explains, clicking the reel again. This time it's images of the dead little Insecticlones after they had hatched from Backfire's noggin. The next is a series of autopsy images of the little buggers. "What was it Pantsfire said to you?" Kickback just smiles and does nothing to retaliate -- physically. "Well well... if it isn't the skin parasite," he smoothly retorts to Singe. "Found any other females to lose to someone else these days?" The locust turns his attentions to Misfire and is utterly cheerful and disarming. "Well, I can't say death was a tremendously FUN experience but it is quite enlightening. You should try it some time!" He accepts both the drink and the smoke - but he eats both. "No, I never had time to get good at cards. Bombshell cheated and Shrapnel was a real bitch when he lost." Holding up a finger, "Your suppose to light it first..." Misfire offers as Kickback chews up the items. "Ah, never mind...your way works..." Now hands empty, Misfire clasps them in front of his chest with a soft clap. "So, I should try it...I would, but see...I have this phobia...about being turned into a Sweep..." Misfire looks around, "No offense..." He looks back at Kickback. "So, yeah, that makes Death...problematic. So? Was it Dark and Scary? Did you dream? Or hear voices? Or join with Primus..." He then looks around nervously, "So, no cards then...so, uh what do you do for fun, 'aside from eating 'Mechs...errr things..." Singe just glowers at Misfire. "When I say 'keep him company' I mean physically intimidate and guard him, you DOLT." A puff of flames bursts out of his eyes, and he glares at Kickback. "Enough out of you until this is sorted out, relic." He lands on Spinister's shoulder, who regards the Insecticons cooly. Sparing Singe a look, Misfire nods in understanding. "OHHHHH!!! That makes more sense...Hey I'm more of a Buffoon than a Dolt..." Misfire holds up his hands as Singe gets made, "Not important..." Misfire edges towards Kickback, "Between you me, and our good friends here, I wouldn't get on Singe's bedside. Nice guy..but can get crazy...not in that, surprise here is a cake, crazy...But that, I'll slice your face off and put into across the table from me and stare it while I eat crazy..." Misfire looks around, "No offense..." Kickback puts a hand on his chest, mock offended. "Relic?" he asks. He'd bat his eyes if they weren't behind a visor. "Better to be a relic than something whose organs decompose after a century." He considers what Misfire has to say. "Well, to be frank I don't remember much after I got my head run over at Autobot City. There's just this big empty space--" He zones out for a moment, expression slack, as if there's some kind of read error going on. It lingers for a moment. "--I don't remember anything about being a Sweep." Looking at Kickback, Misfire absorbs the words of his new friend. "Oh, really? That sounds awful..." Misfire pulls out another flask for Kickback. "Hear, have another drink. Your good people Kickback...you have....." Misfire pauses to find a word, "You have dedication..." He then lowers his voice. "Say, friend...you know the organics are little touchy about the decamposing and short life thing...it is a button or something. Just a heads up..." Misfire smiles at Kickback, oblivious to the fact it was suppose to be an insult. Spinister doesn't say anything, but the relaxing of his shoulders is echoed by Singe. "This is about those ridiculous eggs? 8 Undergods of the Nebulan Inferno, what a colossal waste of our time." Hairsplitter transforms, landing on the ground near the two. Spinister gestures to Misfire to stand down. Whatever standing down from offering a potential prisoner drinks looks like. Scorn has her chin in a hand while Kickback and Misfire talk, mind awash with thoughts until Necropsic speaks up and shows them all diagrams, to which she looks up at and freezes. "...No. No that can't be." Her expression sours. "That's impossible, all those clones were a failure and died minutes after emerging. None were reported to have survived." But could this be true? Could this 'Empire' the prisoners spoke of consist of the strange hybrids of seeker and insecticon? She looks to Pantsfire still on the table, frowning. "...He said 'You are not the Queen'." Blast Off has just been watching all this silently. He really hasn't been following the goings-ons with the Insecticons. He doesn't really tend to like them anyway, and he's been rather busy with several issues of his own. Standing in the shadows, he's gone mostly unnoticed- exactly the way he likes it. He continues to watch for now. Glancing around, Misfire slips into the shadows near Blast Off, placing a flask into his chest, "Blast Off! Good to see you! Catch up soon?" Misfire then saunters towards the door, "Scorn, Kickback, Doc Bot...good luck with the kids..." He eyes Spinister, then smiles..."But Patrol duty calls for me!" Misfire states loudly to no one in particular and then poofs out the door, before he can get tasked with something truly awful. "I have no iota what that means.." Necropsic notes, turning the holoprojector off and reattending to Pantsfire body. "Did he give an inflection or did you notice anything before that?" he questions, picking up the recorder from the ground. "Subject Pantsfire is revealed to be a living remnant from the Insecticlone project. Submitting corpse and all information gathered for Commander Shockwave's perusal." he speaks into the device, giving Scorn a slight glance. "As of now, Scorn is not implicated in this matter. Pending Director Contrail's investigation, of course." Scorn has to really think on this, trying to remember what else Pantsfire was spouting throughout the chaos he started. Realization hits quick enough and she perks, "During the fight.. He was saying a bunch of things that seemed like nonsense. Like saying he wasn't running away when he was, or not admiting to being struck. Like.. he was lieing." Her hand grips the edge of the table, the other pressing palm to her forehead. "Damnit.. don't tell me everything he says is a lie!" Then what he said was in fact a lie. Scorn /is/ the Queen. DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN Blast Off acts slightly annoyed as Misfire comes stumbling by, putting a flask in his chest.... but he's not really. He'll be helping himself to that soon enough. Especially with all this talk about Insecticon queens and Seeker/Insecticon offspring. He listens, learning more about the prey they were pursuing earlier, but not really having anything to add. "Wait, earlier didn't you say he claimed you were NOT the Queen?" Necropsic asks, taking a couple steps back from Scorn and dialing something on his datapad. "If everything he says was a lie, that makes you.." he mutters, being cut off before the sentence can be finished. Members of the Decepticon Justice Division march into the Workshop, holding rifles out to bear before them. They have one purpose in the area, and are all staring right at it. One of the mechs steps forward, a small squirly fellow who speaks in an odd manner. "Greetingz, Svorn. Vy name iz Turncoat, and I'll be escorting zee to your habitazun suit." he smiles, bowing before her. Even with the grand gesture, the armed guards around him line up between Scorn and anyone else. Necropsic looks nervously away from her, putting down his datapad that still has the DJD informantion screen activated on it. Scorn knew it. She knew this would happen the moment she heard her energon signature was identified in Pantsfire. Her face is blank by the time the DJD arrives, though a faint frown hints expression as she looks up to meet Turncoat. She could run. Transform into tiny mode and wriggle into some crack in the wall. But that would make her look guilty, and right now she wants to keep the prospect of a fair trial available. So she doesn't fight, instead calmly standing and holding hands out to be cuffed, not resisting and simply going along with them wherever they wished to take her. Looks like she'll be calling Swindle soon. Blast Off gets a very unpleasant surprise when the slagging DJD suddenly arrive. The former Renegade Decepticon is quite unhappy to see them, never exactly sure if the DJD have forgiven his own "trespasses" or not. And the odds are, they haven't, but being Bruticus- and in the service of Galvatron- probably saves the Combaticons from the DJD's wrath. Most likely. Despite his arrogance, Blast Off can't deny a slight twinge of fear. He finds himself very glad he has just been standing in the shadows and not drawing attention to himself...and can't help edging very slowly back, even further into the shadows. There's no way he's drawing attnetion to hiself now, that's for sure. Scorn is on her own. "Zuch formalitiez won't be neccezary." Turncoat replies when Scorn holds her hands out for cuffing, "Zhink of uz as your.. entorage, until Director Contrail zays otherwize." he chuffs with an air of pompousness. The other guards however, do not convey the same sense of illustriousness or pompousness, they merely remain at Scorn's side ready to march out. And so they do, with Scorn in tow, the screen fades to black.
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