| abstract
| - October 5th, 2008 IC date October 5th, 2029 Cell Covered in bare metal walls, this cell is your basic Cybertronian cell. A small bed is attached to the side, just large enough to hold a regular-sized Transformer, while across from it is a small energy dispenser which is only turned on when needed from the outside. Energy bars zap and crackle across the entrance, and if anyone goes close enough to them, they would receive a nasty shock for their trouble. Pinatacius Pinatacius is not the most august of Quintessons. He mooches rather than stands, his tentacles droop, and each of his five faces are battered in slightly. His grey body is covered in healing pads, but the damage to his form is still painful and slow-healing Dee-Kal says, "Mama! here, I brought you some San Francisco olive oils from the farmer's market!" At the far end of the cell, hunched into the corner with his tentacles splayed over the floor, and his little light stool buzzing over the floor, is the Quintesson Pinatacius. Captured by the Autobots about two months back at the Decepticon's Celebration of Cybertronian Independance Day at Crystal City, the hapless Pinatacius served as the Decepticon's piniata until Rodimus himself rescued him. Now the Quintesson has been passing his time in the brig. Since... what do you DO with a Quintesson? Dee-Kal snugs her Mom and hands over a little wicker basket containing various large bottles with waxed cork stoppers in the top and olde-worlde style labels. Dee-Kal switches focus to the Quint in the cell. She goes over to the bars of the cell, but not too close. "Hey... hello, there...?" Springer leans towards the bars, getting a good look at Pinatacius, who Springer likes to think the Autobots 'rescued' rather than 'captured'. And this is a 'recovery room' rather than a 'prison cell'. And he's their...er, well you get the idea. "Hey, you. Pinatacius." He doesn't shout or anything, just speaks loud enough to be heard. "How's it going? You healing up okay?" Nightbeat wonders, vaguely, why he didn't know that they had a Quintesson. He supposes that he was probably lit off his skidplate that day. It's always a good theory to explain why he doesn't know something, he finds. However, if there's going to be a questioning, he definitely wants in. Monstereo tries to look all serious and business like as he approaches the brig with his entourage of curious and helpful party members. But Dee-Kal and her olive oil basket gift is kinda underminning that. He smiles and pats her head. "Um... thank you..." They arrive at the cell and look in. "Doctor Lecter?" Springer points to Pinatacius and mutters, "Okay, I call 'good cop'." Dee-Kal drops down to her knees - something that she has learnt to do with humans - in order to seem less intimidating. Foxfire is mostly just along for the ride. He's trailed in after Springer, staying close to the larger mech while at the same time trying not to get stepped on. It's hard being around mechs more than twice your size all the time. Dee-Kal says, "Hello. Please say hello back. The cell is a security precaution. I hope you are not too uncomfortable and are in good general health..?"" As the mechs arrive, there is a slipping and slithering noise from inside the cell, and Pinaticius drags himself on his tentacles towards the bars, his little light-stool causing a small hover. "Life is pain" he responds, switching faces. "But pain... is my friend." Dee-Kal looks up to the Autobots and her Mom. Foxfire flicks his ears, looking vaguely puzzled. "Some friend," he comments simply. Nightbeat isn't too sure about that ditzy dame, Dee-Kel, but he's not too sure about the female of the species, in general. He leans against one of the walls, selecting one of the darker ones, and he inclines his head so that his optical band is shaded. When Springer declares that he's the 'good cop', Nightbeat drawls, "I can do bad cop." He can do very bad cop indeed. Dee-Kal says, "No. Neither of you will smurf any such thing." Springer cuts in. "Of course he's in good health. What do you think we'd do, torture him...?" He lets that hang just a little too long, but then continues. "Anyway, we've had medics looking in on him constantly." Over the closed-loop security systems monitoring this cell, he thinks to himself. And they're more like 'intelligence operatives' than medics. But hey, it's the thought that counts. Out loud, Springer continues. "Anyway, Pinatacius...Monstereo has a few questions for you. So do the rest of us. If you're feeling up for it." Springer's tone makes it sound like that last part is just out of politeness. They're probably gonna be asking their questions however the Quintesson is feeling. Monstereo steps back half a step, not a full one. A cautious respectable space buffering despite there being a barrier between those outside and the 'guest' within. He sets the basket to rest under one of his arms and gives a nod. The Autobots around him and the familiar Auto-Junkion Dee-Kal all very supportive. He musters up his will. "Hello Dr Lecter. My name is Monstereo. May we speak with you?" The Quint has undoubtedly had few conversation opportunities while stuck in there, but you never know how the alien Quintesson mind works. WHUMPH! The Quintesson face of DEATH pushes against the bars right next to Dee-Kal's face as Pinatacius pushes himself forwards. "Yes yes yes my children, ask me questions and then you must release me!" His head clacks noisily round to that of FREEDOM, a more noble-looking face with a beard. "Knowledge comes at a price, that is mine!" Nightbeat glares over at Dee-Kal. Little missy conscripts don't tell him what to do! He mutters, "There's always the ginger beer trick..." More loudly, Nightbeat notes, "Hey, do you want an actual trial? Or do you want to stay alive," pointed emphasis on alive, "not payin' room and board, in that cell?" Last he checked, Transformer courts are fond of lyching Quintessons. Dee-Kal is un-intimidated. "You have no bargaining position here, Master Pinata. Honesty brings freedom. And freedom comes with patience, and must be earned." Foxfire just lets the bigger mechs speak. They're all probably older than him, anyway, so basically he's the child who keeps quiet while Mommy and Daddy do business. He's a good little foxbot. Pinatacius' tentacles thrash about furiously as he is talked at. His heads twist again, to reveal that of the JUDGE. "INNOCENT!" he roars. "I am innocent, I was taken and tied and beaten... I am just a poor innocent Quintession citizen, do not treat me harshly just because of my race." He covers his face with a tentacle and slides into the middle of the cell. "I am just like that little fox-creature! I will answer your questions to show my noble intent!" Springer holds up his hands placatingly. "Now everyboy hold on just an astro-second here." Who says he never listens to Kup? "There's no reason we can't all work together and make everybody happy." He looks at Pinatacius. "The fact of the matter is, nobody knows what to do with you. Yet." He nods in agreement with Dee-Kal. "But if you show yourself to be cooperative and trustworthy, well...it'll certainly win you a few points in the minds of Autobot high command. -Quite- a few points. Take it from me." He practically winks. Dee-Kal remains knelt, but looks earnest. "Autobots and Junkions alike have smurfed paths with your kind before, Master. And while sometimes to our cost, we have learnt, and will not fall for tricks or bargains. We are wise. We are smart. You will not fool us. Calm yourself, though... we are not of evil intent, merely thorough. Pause, and breathe for a moment." Nightbeat is old and cranky. As a result of this, he tend to recall just what the Quintesson have done to his people. How they enslaved them. How they have done nothing but meddle in the affairs of the Transformers. How they built bloody Neocron. There ain't a lot of charity in Nightbeat's soul, and he saves what little he has for dames with legs up to there, not for freak-face squids. He grunts in the general direction of Springer. Win points? Yeah, maybe they'll use lethal injection instead of the gallows tree. He remarks, his humour ghoulish, "Innocent, huh? Sorry, no Sharkticon pit, here." That's what *Quintessons* do with the innocent, right? Monstereo looks about him. Noth the highest ranking autobots among him so talk of freedom isn't really on the table as the Quint will probably surmise. But this is a good line of thinking. Reward. He looks to the Quint again. Luxury not included in the otherwise kind confines of an Autobot holding cell. He thinks. "I tell you what. Squid Pro Quo, Dr Lecter... You give us what we need. We give you a little taste of the outside. Any success from this co-operation will bound to be put on your record. That's all I can offer. He then glances at his basket... He pops a cork. The luxurious smell of one of the fine concoctions waifs gently into the cell. "Yesssss" Pinatacius mutters at Monstereo, his tentacle waving towards the cork. "Cork, a Quintesson delicacy! We will talk, and you will tell your master the Prime how helpful I have been!" Towards Nightbeat, the face of Death swivels. "Just as all your kind have purple insignia, yes?" he hisses back Dee-Kal turns her head sharply and *scowls* at Nightbeat. "He is in a cell, Nightbeat-sama. What do you want? Ashes and sackcloth?" Nightbeat pulls out an immaculate Decepticon badge and holds it in one hand. It's actually in better shape than his Autobot badge. He replies, grinning lopsidedly, "Yeah, actually. Comes in handy for tricking Stunticons." Stunticons aren't very bright. He looks at Dee-Kal coolly and comments, "Well, I would have *liked* to see on a proper trial." Springer tilts his head slightly to the side, looking at the Autobots with him. He looks back at Pinatacius, then lowers his voice slightly, leaning his head towards the Quintesson. Everybody can probably still hear what he has to say to the Quint. "You see what we're up against here? Working with Monstereo's probably your best bet here. So c'mon, throw him a bone here. Put your best face forward." Dee-Kal glances at Springer, then back to Pinatacius. She nodnods. Pinatacius pushes his face of Freedom against the bars as Springer talks. "I said I WOULD, you mechanical mor-... my noble and generous captor!" He then skitters back into the centre of the room. Monstereo blinks... not what he expected, but hey. It works... though he was looking to build up his own cork collection. Sacrifices must be made. He raises the cork near the cell barrier. "Our first contestant is playing for this lovely new cork, from a Greek bottling company. The essense of olive scent laced within. A fine quality cork. This can be yours if the price is right! First question." He sets the cork into the bottle but doesn'tt press it back in. He takes out a datapad with an image and technical researched info about the giant mutant Nepsan Spider encountered and samples taken from for study. "This appears to be the handiwork of your people. Tell us about it." Foxfire lowers his ears slightly, peering at the Quintesson curiously. "How are you just like me? I don't see any paws on you..." Dee-Kal somehow finds this slightly funny, and chuckles. Pinatacius watches the cork hungrily as he flicks his vision to Foxfire. "They tolerate you, as they tolerate me, little one." His face swivels to a Bargaining face. "Perhaps we can work together..." And then the Judge face clicks back, and he stares at Monstereo's image. "I do not recognise it. And hypothetically speaking, if I were on a Quintesson Inner Council, I would not recognise it though the technology is certainly reminiscant of your world. Perhaps YOU did" Foxfire hunches down a little, a musing frown crossing his muzzle. "Of course I'm tolerated. I'm one of their own." He tilts his head at the Quint's suggestion. "Work together? How?" Monstereo shakes his head. "I don't think you're looking hard enough." He puts a finger to the cork and starts putting a little pressure on it to inch it back into the bottle. Pinatacius' head switches back to the Bargaining form, as he glances at Foxfire. "A clever little turbofox like you would know many things, like codes and NONONONO!" He flips to the Death head as Monstereo seeks to deny him of his precious and delicious cork. "I have been fed on nutro-suppliments for these past astromonths, it is intolerable!" He scoots forward on his tentacles to peer at the picture. "It is NOT Quintesson, we abandoned the transorganic technology aeons ago, why would we follow an evolutionary dead end..." Dee-Kal looks to Pinatacius. "Come on..." she coos. Foxfire hms quietly to himself. "I'm not *actually* a turbofox," he points out, "just based on them. And codes aren't really my speciality--holograms and demolitions aren't a problem, though." He shrugs, as best as a quadruped can. "Just sayin'." Monstereo stops pushing on the cork but doesn't pull it out again yet. "Is that the sole basis for your reasoning, Dr Lecter?" Springer looks from Foxfire to Pinatacius and back, then takes a step away from the little casette-bot, leaving Foxfire standing off by himself slightly. Turning his head towards Foxfire, he smirks. But then when he turns back so the Quint can see his expression again, he looks thoughtful, "Well, you dooo have access to the security cell codes Foxfire. And the codes to temporarily shut down the base defenses." He turns and levels a stern look at Pinatacius. "But he's on our side, so stop trying to fill his head with nonsense. We don't just tolerate him - we use him! He's very useful." He turns and gives Foxfire that smirk again that Pinatacius (hopefully) can't see. Nightbeat asks, "Yeah, couldn't there be a nutter in the old family tree making these transorgs? D'ya have any proof that *none* of you are working on these?" Pinatacius' heads spin round in agitation as he is doubted. Finally they stop on the Freedom face and its' noble beard. "Transorganics were abandoned because they were too unstable, they could not be controlled." He muses on the irony of the statement as he stares at the Transformers. "If your kind has managed to perfect the technique, then I salute them." He slides towards Nightbeat. "The Quintesson race is PURE and of ONE MIND!" he hisses, clicking to the face of Death and forgetting himself for a moment. "I know nothing of this creature!" Dee-Kal h'ms. Monstereo fishes for anything else along this current topic of questioning. Finally he settles upon what his heart wants to know. "Can the process be traced and reversed?" He pulls at the cork, halfway out now. Nightbeat has his doubts about the 'pure' and 'one mind' assertion, but that anger seems to be genuine. He pulls out a reciept stub for a coffee bar, looks at it briefly, and scowls. He questions, "So what was the low down on Creon?" He read the report. Foxfire seems to swell with pride at Springer's words. "At least you think so. Powerglide's always picking on me for not having hands." He flashes a grin, which, of course, reveals one of his fangs. He won't hesitate to use those fangs on Pinatacius if he has to! Pinatacius cackles, a broken thing. "Oh, we Quintessons have not laughed in so long" he hisses. "You could reverse it, after years of surgery you would get the pale shadow of a creature, gutted and on life support, but yes... perhaps..." A smirk crosses the Death face. "Perhaps your terran allies have nasty things locked in their cellar, yes?" The Bargaining head flips back as Nightbeat talks. "Creon? Creon? We are on Creon as their rightful overlords and Gods, you have no jurisdiction over us there, the Galactic Council would have your cores!" Monstereo sighs. The spider topic covered. The first cork is taken out and passed through the cell barrier. Springer's smirk melts away, then after a second he just grins and shrugs at Foxfire. Turning back to Pinatacius, he says, "So yeah, uh...about Creon. Uh...how'd you guys get end up on a place like that anyway? Kind of out of the way, right? Was that a one-time thing, or did you guys set up shop anywhere else around that time...?" Nightbeat steeples his fingers and 'hehs'. He tilts his head to one side, and he explains, "Oh, it's nothing that we *did*, but it's something that maybe your kind did. See, that planet's gone. Blew up when the sun went nutters. Know anything about that?" Pinatacius sweeps the cork into his mouth and guzzles it down, savouring the taste, before letting a few crumbs drop onto the floor as Nightbeat speaks. "Lieslieslies" he mutters. "Prove it!" He starts to sweep the crumbs on the floor into a tentacle. "Sun had billions of years left..." Monstereo sniffs at the uncorked bottle and takes it out of the basket. He takes a drink from it. "Ahhhh..." He offers a taste to Dee-Kal, the gift giver. He listens, however, about the Creon incident. Nightbeat pulls out a datapad and brings up a FutureTube recording of a news article on the matter. Nightbeat observes, "Seems Darwinicius thought the same way about that sun having some time left to go." There's an explosion on the screen. "Guess he thought wrong. Now. Anything you guys were doing that could have caused it?" "Hah. Aha." Pinatacius takes in the information, his own mind quickly calibrating and authenticating the data. "That is what you would call irony." Two of his tentacles rub together. "Nonono, we did not cause the ion storm, nor did we ensure its path along the subspace slipstream, but we DID prepare for it yes. That was Creon, that was what the Creonites had and we wanted. To survive..." He clams up on this subject once he says this. Nightbeat snaps his fingers, in a gotcha move. Monstereo glances to Nightbeat. It's his line of questioning now, it's his call on the reward system. Nightbeat looks over at Monstereo, who is kind of a genius about this science stuff. He asks, "Hey, in your considered opinion, Monstereo, would a bit more information about those ion storms be worth a cork? Sure sounds like he knows something." Foxfire goes quiet again. He's behaving. Honest. Monstereo nods. "Helpful Harvey gets to party. Hinder Heidie gets deniedee." He turns to Pinatacius. "I speak Bill Nyeses. If you lie about details, i'll know. So, time to spill the beans or this entire basket of corks is off the table for good, let alone you getting even one more. Know what I mean, Vern?" The Quintesson simply stares at Monstereo, then looks across at Nightbeat. "Your colleague is /defective/" he states simply. "He is emitting gibberish" Dee-Kal chuckles and waves her hands. "no-no-no. We like to have fun with language." Monstereo grins. "I mastered Tornedron. Don't mess with me." Nightbeat scowls and translates, "He's a scientist, okay? Kinda. He says that he'll know if you're fibbing, so if you can pony up some more information about the ion storms, there's a cork in it for you. Otherwise, no more corks. Ever." Dee-Kal says, "Nightbeat-sama..!" Monstereo puts a hand on Dee-Kals shoulder. Dee-Kal places a hand in the basket herself, and sneaks out another cork. Mischievous Deeky. Pinatacius considers this for a while. Then he pipes up, slightly shrilly. "Ion storms, ion yes. We knew they were coming for a while, YOU should have, the signs were there. We were at the K'Tor Cluster with the resurrected Seacons, we were waiting to plunder and harvest. We did not cause it, but we will reap the benefits!" He giggles slightly, his tentacles flailing. "And we know where it WILL hit, Cybertronians..." Dee-Kal holds up the olive-oil flavoured cork. Dee-Kal says, "Master Pinatacius... could you tell..? Ple-e-ease..?" Nightbeat suddenly steps out from the relative darkness where he's been standing, he looms closer to the bars. "Yeah, where is it going to hit? How many more have to die? Who started it? And what can we do to *stop* this thing? That doo-dad Piranhacon tried to steal - can we get another one, somewhere?" Even if they can get Cybertron out of the way, other worlds could be whacked - Junk or Earth, maybe. Moving Cybertron is just a partial solution. Nightbeat wouldn't cry over Charr, though. Dee-Kal says, "*Nightbeat-sama*!" Dee-Kal says, "Do not make me tell MASter Impulse that you are being unsmurfy!" As Nightbeat steps forwards, Pinatacius shirks back. "Hnnn, it will hit Cybertron, it will annhiliate your pathetic homeworld and there is nothing you can do about it! We will win, and will not have to lift even a tentacle! And in the chaos, we will take what we can!" Nightbeat winks at Dee-Kal and replies, a bit rakishly, "Oh, dollface, 'Master' Impulse *knows*." Dee-Kal says, "Let him tell... do not snap and demand." Dee-Kal says, "See, you have made him excited gain." Foxfire pins his ears back, showing his fangs in a quiet snarl. "Now you're just tickin' me off, Quint. Am I gonna have to bite you?" Monstereo points at Pinatacius. "You're /on/ Cybertron." Dee-Kal beckons Pinatacius to her. Pinatacius pauses, his eyes widening. "...nonono, I'm on Metroplex, I'm on Earth, you wouldn't hold a Quintesson on Cybertron." He looks side to side in panic Dee-Kal says, "..please, calm for me..? I have a cork." Dee-Kal offers the cork, no traps. Nightbeat throws his head back and laughs. "Why wouldn't we? I mean, what do we have to lose, if this place is toast?" Monstereo sees the process of being blue meanies is completely undermined by the power of cuteness. He sighs.... but then again, the knowledge of a shared doom may be powerful enough to sway the Quintesson into being more helpful... self preservation. Dee-Kal says, "You *are* on Cybertron, hai. I did tell you that we are smart, ne..? And that we have dealt with your kind before. But we are not of harmful intent. Please explain about the ion storms..?" Pinatacius doesn't even have appetite for the cork as he gets into a frenzy. "But but... I demand you move me immediately!" he shouts. "I cannot stay here, I cannot die! You are welcome to YOUR fate!" His head swivels to the Judge face. "I TOLD you, we did not cause them, but we reap the benefits while we can. We are not large in number, but we are CLEVER" Dee-Kal takes a breath... "Stop-! Sit down! *Now*!" Nightbeat asks softly, stepping back into the dark, "So, where are you going for shelter from the storm? Didja think it out that far? Are you sayin' Earth's safe?" Monstereo twirls his datapad. Thinking about the web of plots connecting. So much pain and destruction both behind and ahead all because of such minds as this prisoner before them posesses. Dee-Kal says, "Sit down and breathe. Yes, we appreciate that you are clever, but so are we.. and we wish to live, as do you." Dee-Kal says, "Now. Very well, the ion storms are not your doing. But you can tell where they go, how they are..? We need help, and for this, we need you." Dee-Kal says, "And for your freedom and continued life, you need us. I said there was no bargaining position. I spoke true. So. The option is to call truce. Will you agree?" Pinatacius waves a tentacle at Nightbeat as he scoots to the corner of his cell. "Yes yes, Cybertron is the apex of the storm, where it meets the curve of its arc. Soon it will finish its circle of the galaxy and return to the vast area of space known as the Medusa Cascade, where the energies within will be absorbed and cancel out." The Judge face clicks around to Dee-Kal as he hisses. "NO TRUCE. Move me from Cybertron!" Dee-Kal remains calm. she shakes her head. "Apologies, Master. Shiturei sumasu. No bargaining. We shall not move you. Monstereo arches a brow. Interesting... the storm will return to the Medusa Cascade and be ended there. Dee-Kal says, "IF Cybertron were... beloved Quintessa. What would you do to ensure your wonderful world preserved?" "QUINTESSA IS DEAD!" Pinatacius roars, suddenly lunging forwads, tentacles banging at the bars. "YOU MURDERED IT!" Nightbeat mutters something about 'the belly of Medusa', but it's hard to make out what he's saying. He turns to Monstereo and suggests, "Do your science stuff and figure out what worlds are in the way, circling back to Medusa. We need to warn them." ...didn't the Quintessons blow up Quintessa? Dee-Kal bows her head. "I am sorry. I meant no offence." Foxfire winces and backs up, the screaming hurting his audios. Monstereo smiles. "That's easy... all the leg work has been mostly done..." He turns on his datapad again and does so information requesting... There are no other exciting planets in the way :(Nightbeat was totally trying to be a good Autobot and care about other people, too! See if he ever bother to do that again. Monstereo nods at the beep-beep-blippity-boops of his data pad. "None with life." Nightbeat snaps his fingers in frustration. Okay, so they know the end of this - get Cybertron out of the way, and the ion storm ends in the Cascade. Okay. Back to the beginning. He inquires, "So who or what kicked this mess off? Seems far too coincidental for my liking." Dee-Kal venture a hand, and touches a tentacle, just fractionally. She tentatively pats... then withdraws, a little sharply. Pinatacus continues to bang on the bars. "Move me, move me from Cybertron, let me join my brothers as we leave this accursed place!" His heads continue to swivel as he tantrums like a child, and one tentacle lashes out at Dee-Kal, but unable to touch her of course Dee-Kal begs the Quintesson to calm. "I am so sorry, I truly am, I did not mean to upset you so... Please forgive me?" Monstereo steps forward and bangs his fist against the cell barrier. "You! Will! Die! Here! Or! You! Will! Help! Save! Your! Self!" He steps back with a relaxed swagger. "Not my best Shatner, but not the worst." Dee-Kal suspects that James T Kirk might not quite do it that way, but hey. Pinatacus stops his railing and slumps down. "There is nothing I can do" he bemoans. "I am in your hands now, I have told you all I know. Move me from this accursed world." The little Junkion prepares to lose an arm to the cause, but places her arm through he bars to intercept a tentacle. she makes contact... holds. Nightbeat crosses his arms and leans against the wall. If Dee-Kal wants to lose an arm, she can be his guest. Question is... do they press Pinatacius more, or do they call it a day? Do they take him to Earth? Prisoner transfers have a way of going wrong, and the EDC might have a few things to say... Dee-Kal holds the tentacle, but suspects not much will come of it. Monstereo calmly asks, "Tell us about the complexities of spacebridge interraction with planetary transportation. We've done it once. We may do it again." SCHLURRRP! Pinatacius wraps his tentacle around Dee-Kal's arm and yanks HARD, retreating into the cell with whatever he might have pulled off. He shakes his head at Monstereo. "That will not help you, will not help..." he gibbers. "Cybertron is doomed no matter what. HE is coming back!" The Quintesson then squashes himself into the far corner Nightbeat wonders if Junkions make a habit of holding five-faced freaks, or if it's just Dee-Kal. Weird, weird, weird. Nightbeat just doesn't understand kids these days. He pauses and looks up. HE. Huh. Nightbeat thinks he read a little ditty about a HIM (and no, not the goth singer). "Y'think HE won't go after you, too?" Dee-Kal loses a bit of plating to the cause, but nothing major. She's got surprisingly tough limbs and a nice shiny paint finish. Pinatacus still sits in the corner of his cell, his bulbous form shaking back side to side. "Nonono, HE doesn't care about us, but if we are in the way, we too will die. We fight, we take what we can and we LEAVE, that is our way! Find your own!" Monstereo shakes his head at the plundering of Dee-Kals plating. "Give it back, McGuyver. You get two corks if you do. You get worse if you don't. Oh and, who is this 'HIM' / 'HE'?" Springer drawls, "We've already found our way. Our way is to save people. Everybody. You should know by now that we'll save you too. Think about where you were before the Autobots got ahold of you." He gestures at the bars, and the cell. "Whoever this 'he' is, we can fight him. We will fight him. And we'll win. You can be a part of that. C'mon, let's all let bygones be bygones. Dee-Kal reaches into her subspace pocket to find a spare bit of plating that will serve until she can get something more suitable made up. VArious bits of junk wind up on the floor around her in her hunt. Pinatacius says nothing in response, simply using Dee-Kal's armour plating to scratch a circle into the wall of his cell. "You cannot fight him, you will try and you will die" he croaks. "The web is closing and the strands have been all around you for some time, but you will not see them until it is TOO LATE." He then clams up into silence again Monstereo sighs. "Fellas. Get it back please. Let's not turn this into a blooper." Dee-Kal rubs at her nose. "I should call my bodyshop expert...he has perfect parts... What is the name and number..?" Springer watches the scratchings carefully. Then he gives Dee-Kal a stern look. "I don't think you should give him anything else. No telling what could come in handy in there." Oh yeah, good cop. "Uh, hurt him, I mean. No telling what could hurt him in there." Right. Some faceless enemy sealed in the belly of Medusa. Nightbeat groans. He loves mysteries, it is true, but it's funny how many of them end in murder. He grouses, "If it ain't one thing, it's the other." Dee-Kal looks blank..? Then looks alert! Ah, of course, tidy up, girl! She starts to recollect the bits and pieces, tidying up. Monstereo swears to Merv Griffin that if it turns out to be Thunderwing again he'll shoot himself in the foot. Monstereo waits for security proceedures to be followed... you can't leave a prisoner anything for tool use, especially metal. Pinatacius has fallen silent now, just hunched in the corner of his cell, tentacles wrapped around himself, with Deek's metal part on the floor in front of him Dee-Kal says, "Sorry, Master Springer. Everything is tidy, now, though, ne?" Springer nods to Dee-Kal and Monstereo. "Anybody got anything else to talk about with our new friend here?" Dee-Kal hunts for her book. "I *know* I have the book here somewhere. What IS that name and number..? Pinatacius simply points a tentacle at Dee-Kal. "Her, her, it's all her fault, she's behind it all, arrest her not me!" Dee-Kal says, "PRimus... where is that book?" Nightbeat facepalms. Remind him, again, why he does this job? Oh, yeah. Because the Decepticons are slag-chugging scum. Monstereo considers. "Nope... not now at least. Maybe another time... between now and our destruction or after we save ourselves..." He looks to Dee-Kal. Clever girl. Pinatacius waves a tentacle at the Autobots, idly throwing the metal armour of Dee-Kal into the assembled crowd. "I have told you all I can and all i will!" he hisses. "Now leave me be, /children/" Dee-Kal says, "What? It is not my fault. Okay, wise Quintesson - you tell me the name and number? I bet you do not know everything!" Dee-Kal retrieves her plating. She inspects it carefully... replaces it on her arm. Looks blank for a moment. Dee-Kal says, "Master Pinata, I will bring more corks." Dee-Kal says, "I offended you, and I am sorry." Monstereo puts a hand on Dee-Kal's shoulder again. "Now now, don't spoil him. He gets one of these corks a day unless we find he was telling fibs. No more. I'll leave them with the guards." Dee-Kal says, "But I will not help you to get free." Dee-Kal looks up at her 'mom', and nods. Springer turns around and stands in front of the bars, facing the other Autobots and partially blocking the view of the prisoner. "All right, I think we've given our five-faced friend here enough excitement for one day. Let's all clear out for now." He gives Dee-Kal a look. "Uh...so the rule is, nobody comes in here to talk to him alone, for any reason." He starts waving his arms like a police officer on crowd control. "Okay, move along." Pinatacius just slumps in his cell, tapping the walls. "Move me away from here!" he calls after them. "You promised!" Dee-Kal sighs... Monstereo walks Dee-Kal out. "Goodbye, Doctor Lecter."
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![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)