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Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

The local Solar System. From the Sun to Earth's orbit and the Moon. And from there all the way into the outer regions of the system beyond Neptune and the dwarf planets beyond it.

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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Tue Jun 26, 2012 10:24 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Wheeljack’s Lab

Tracer had kept her attention on the canister that she clutched to her chest keeping its contents as close as possible. She turned her gaze back up to Wheeljack when he reassured her that she was not insane for wanting to keep Smokescreen’s empty shell for just a while longer. It was just what she felt was the proper way to do things…at least to her, and thankfully Wheeljack understood her reasoning.

With a delicate smile the femme placed her hand gently on the mechanical engineer’s shoulder and nodded.

“Thank you Wheeljack. I really appreciate it. And you weren’t crazy, you’re doing your job, and for that I can’t complain. You’ve already done so much."

That small smile disappeared as she looked away from Smokescreen’s trusted friend. She caught sight of the bench where the vial of Syk had been placed and she couldn’t help but wonder that if Smokescreen didn’t make it she wouldn’t be able to cope. I’ll have to go back to Oil Slick; try to mend the fences. Try to get him to understand that it was a mistake, a misunderstanding. It'd be the only way because I can’t stop using by myself. I can’t do it on my own. But most of all, I don’t want to do it on my own.

Tracer let out a frustrated sigh while focusing on her thoughts that were filled with nothing but what ifs. The movement from Wheeljack caught her attention making her turn around to watch him place the empty shell into one of the storage closets and then locked it. She was put slightly at ease with the gesture but she would only be satisfied once Smokescreen was finally up and functional.

The scout remained stationary when Wheeljack finished with his gruesome task and made his way over to where she stood. She lowered her optics to the floor just before he stopped in front of her. Even when he mentioned he could use her help with the task, Tracer simply couldn’t lift her optics to meet his. It had been difficult to do so before hand, but now it was almost impossible.

“I prefer computer hacking and reprogramming, but yes I can weld."

Tracer followed along behind the scientist and took a look at the monitor next to the work bench where the beginning of Smokescreen’s new body was being constructed. Her focus left the frame work and moved to the schematics that Wheeljack had worked up. They looked quite similar to Smokescreen’s old look putting her more at ease. Seeing him with a new body, that was to her unrecognizable, would be too much to bear.

“I can do that. No problem."

The femme took a quick look around and spotted a good location to set the canister she had been holding down where it would remain out of the way and safe. Her hands now free she stepped back to the work bench and gathered up several sheets of metal and placed them down in an area large enough for her to work.

Finally settled in Tracer arranged the metal into the likeness of what would soon become Smokescreen’s door wings. Satisfied with the look, Tracer began to weld the pieces together.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Devastron » Tue Jun 26, 2012 10:26 pm

Weapon: Energo-Sword
The Bridge

Springer had been stuck on the bridge for quite some time. He wasn’t too surprised though as there didn’t seem to be much else going on. It looked like they had come back from Cybertron to some battles taking place on the surface but they had quickly wound down. He had watched the Ark-19 pull away and leave, a surprising development he hadn’t been informed of. When he asked the Guardian about it they assured him it was being send off for repairs, which was enough to satisfy him. So here he sat, waiting to be relieved, new orders or for something to happen.

He looked up from the helm as Arcee spoke up. He had almost forgotten that there was anyone else on the bridge. The triplechanger flashed her a smile. “Well it will certainly take a lot of cleaning up to get it looking that good again, not to mention a fresh coat of paint. I’m sure we’ll get there eventually though, each day is a step closer."
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Smokescreen85 » Wed Jun 27, 2012 9:34 am

Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack appreciated Tracer’s thanks for all the help he had provided both her and Smokescreen. It was unfortunate that everything had gone so wrong for them, but at least they weren’t both off-lined during their unauthorized excursion to the Earth’s surface. Granted, the diversion expert was in as bad a shape as one could get, his old body so badly damaged that repairig it was simply not an option. Thankfully, the rallybot’s Trinity of primary organs were successfully harvested with Axle’s assistance, and the mad scientist, himself, was already well into the construction of a new body. Still, Smokey wasn’t out of danger yet. The Trinity could only be separated for so long before each began to fail and shut down. Time was of the essence, not just because of that reason, but also because the longer it took them the greater the chance of discovery by either Red Alert or someone else.

“You’re welcome, Tracer," Wheeljack began to say as he made his way back to the berth where the half-built torso was resting. “I’d do anything for a friend. Besides, I kinda owed Smokey for a past mistake of mine. Not to mention any friend of his is also a friend of mine." The mechanical engineer flashed the femme a smile just before his face shield slid back across his visage once again. ‘Jack reached down and picked up his laser torch from the worktable as Tracer confirmed that she could, in fact, weld even though she preferred hacking and programming computers. “Sounds good to me. Some reprogramming may be required once Smokey’s body is finished, but for now welding is all we can work on. There’s some sheet metal over there you can use for the door wings. Should be about the right size I think."

Wheeljack then iginited his torch, waiting for a moment until he saw Tracer find and retrieve the metal parts he had pointed out. Once she began the fabrication process, the mechanical engineer turned towards his own worktable and went back to work on the partially constructed torso. Sparks flew as he welded two support pieces together in the lower abdominal region before moving on to the upper chest area. With two mechs working on Smokescreen’s new frame, it should cut down the time by at least half, allowing Axle to transplate the organs into the completed body all the sooner.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Wreck 'n Rule » Thu Jun 28, 2012 8:47 pm

Motto: "I can totally prove that I'm not a zombie! Just lean over hear, and let me take a little nibble out of your brains."
Weapon: Double Barrelled Shell Launcher
Corridor

"What the!?!", Red Alert shouted in surprise as the swift turbofox jumped off of him.

Too focused on where Razr was going then on his own movement, Red Alert went into the floor sliding. Some sparks flew from the friction of his metal body along the metal floor for several astroseconds until his momentum came to a stop.

"Rrrrrrr, you slagging mecha-fleabag!", the security director grumbled, more embarassed than hurt as he got up on his feet.

Turning around, Red Alert saw Razr facing away from him. If the security director didn't know any better, he'd swear the turbofox was toying with him. Red Alert wasn't going to have any of that, though.

"Think you're so clever, huh?", he asked, believing the little creature unable to understand him.

He may be quick, but he doesn't have access to the Ark-22 security systems.

Red Alert lifted his right arm, and a panel opened revealing a communications pad. Still looking at Razr, he punched in a complex security code that sent a signal to the Ark-22 computer. He grinned confidently at Razr, sure that he was outsmarting the little turbofox, as a small force field hummed to life further down the corridor.

"All right you little fur-bot.", Red Alert gloated as he closed the panel on his arm, "I've got you now!"

Red Alert ran again toward Razr, hoping to chase the turbofox into the force field and incapacitate him. He wouldn't escape this time, and Red Alert would have his answers.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Thu Jun 28, 2012 8:59 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Wheeljack’s Lab

The three ‘Bots remained silent as each of them worked diligently on their separate projects. As time passed the frame that would soon become the new body for the diversion expert was taking shape. The torso that Wheeljack had been constructing was transforming gradually into something very recognizable. And as for the work Tracer was doing…the fabrication of Smokescreen’s door wings were coming along a lot faster than she had even anticipated. Then again she was very familiar with the construction of said appendages. After all she was also out fitted with a pair herself.

“Damnit."

Axle carefully removed the clamp from the inside of the T-Cog and placed it down on the bench. For a moment the medic simply stared at the organ; his digits interlaced and his chin resting on top. He let out a low sigh before he quickly stood up.

“What’s wrong?"

The femme’s worried voice broke through the din of the welding torch being used by the mechanical engineer. Tracer stopped her work as she watched Axle get up from his stool, a frustrated expression plastered on his visage.

As Axle moved around his bench his expression turned to something that seemed to be a bit more upbeat.

“Everything’s fine. I just need to gather a few more tool and wires."

The field medic flashed the upset femme a reassuring smile and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. The gesture lasted for only a moment before Axle moved on to one of the storage closets and collected what he would need to complete his work. Tracer watched from over her shoulder but she stopped knowing that if something actually did go wrong the medic would have asked for Wheeljack’s assistance. With her mind at ease, she let out a relieved sigh and returned back to her work.

Silence permeated the lab as each one of them continued to focus on getting everything completed as soon as possible, but to Tracer the silence was deafening. It was simply crushing her from the inside out. She was having a very difficult time coping and finally broke through the curtain of no sound.

"Wheeljack? Wha..what was it that happened that made you feel you owed Smokescreen? If you don’t mind my asking."
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Fri Jun 29, 2012 8:28 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Corridor

From just half way down the corridor Razr watched with interest at just what the security chief was up to. And to the turbofox it looked as though Red Alert was utilizing his credentials in order to set some kind of trap. It was then the little speed demon heard the white and red mech’s angry inquiry. Razr lifted his head and cocked it to the right slightly. Red Alert wanted to know if his nemesis was clever, Razr obliged him with a deep nod of his head.

The sound of the force field humming to life caught the creature’s attention. Razr turned his head back in the direction he was headed and simply stared at the barrier that now blocked his path. Not wasting any time, and certainly not giving the paranoid security chief the edge, Razr turned around fully to face him and lowered his head. At the same time the little Cybertronian game sat down on his haunches and waited patiently for Red Alert to move in closer.

As the obsessed mech finally came into range Razr rose onto all four limbs and took off directly toward the hunter. As he closed the distance to Red, Razr used his momentum once again, but instead of vaulting up and over, Razr slipped to the right of the security mech and used the wall to make his escape.

With his stalker now behind him and the corridor ahead fair game, Razr didn’t bother to goad instead he kept his pace at half speed and headed toward the docking tube that connected the 22 to the Guardian.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Smokescreen85 » Sat Jun 30, 2012 9:14 am

Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack remained focused and steadfast as his work on Smokescreen’s new torso continued unabated. The scientist barely noticed when Axle moved to one of the smaller storage closets to retrieve more tools and wiring before returning to the damaged T-cog. Tracer and the field medic had exchanged words but those statements were lost on the mechanical engineer as he was only interested in getting the frame done so that the diversion expert would be whole once more.

Having welded the final chestplate into position, Wheeljack stood back for a brief moment to view the completed torso section for Smokescreen’s new body. It was still unpainted and a little rough around the edges, but at least it was finally taking shape overall. Now, work could begin on a pair of arms and legs as well as constructing a new cranial unit.

It was then that the silence that had surrounded him and the other two mechs for a while was at last broken by a sudden question from Tracer. Her query seemed to be one of small talk, but it didn’t bother the mad scientist any as he began to gather up additional metal parts from the hover cart nearby. “I don’t mind at all, Tracer. It happened a while ago well before things had escalated on this obscure planet. Neither Prime nor Megatron had even gotten involved at that point and things were generally very quiet on the battle front as we waited for the Decepticons to make any kind of move."

With what he needed gathered up in his arms, Wheeljack moved back over to the worktable and set the metal down next to the finished torso before continuing his story. “Basically, I had tried to enhance a few of Smokey’s ECM warheads for his shoulder-mounted launchers in order to make them more powerful. The idea behind the concept was to make it harder for the enemy to shield themselves from the rockets’ disrupting effects on their guidance systems. I thought I had it figured out, but during a small skirmish with some seekers, one of the newly-enhanced warheads exploded in Smokescreen's faceplate when he tried to fire it, and he ended up in stasis for a few cycles. I felt terrible about the whole thing, but Smokes just told me to forget about it and that accidents happen. Of course, he’s never been one to hold a grudge, especially when friends are involved, but I still felt that I owed him for my mistake that almost cost him his spark."

Wheeljack then returned his full attention back to the task at hand. He thought for a moment before coming to the conclusion that it would be better to build a new cranial unit first as a finished set of arms and legs were not required in order to transplant the Trinity organs into his body. "Axle," the scientist said as he turned towards the field medic. “I’ve completed Smokey’s new torso, and I’m now going to construct a new head unit before I get to work on his appendages. I figured that once you’re done with the T-cog, you can then just transplant the three organs into his frame and cranium without having to wait for completed limbs. It should save on time that way and get the Trinity reunited all the sooner, don’t you agree?"
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Mon Jul 02, 2012 9:19 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Wheeljack’s Lab

Tracer turned the welding torch off and placed it on the worktable’s surface. She took a good look at the first completed door wing and then to Wheeljack who was more than willing to tell her just what happened to Smokescreen that made the mechanical engineer want to redeem himself. From her location Tracer made her way around the bench slowly with her optics completely focused on the mech.

The rendition Wheeljack offered came as quite a surprise to the scout. She had no idea, and she never would have since she was never stationed on Earth, that something like that would have occurred. But the response from Smokescreen, however, was typical Smokescreen. Forgive and forget. A delicate smile curled her lips as she looked down at the new frame the engineer was working on.

“Yeah. He’s always been like that. Never one to hold any kind of grudge."

The smile faded as quickly as it appeared as Tracer turned back around and moved to the workbench.

"I really miss him."

The femme let out a low sigh as she arranged the last pieces of material in the desired shape she was looking for. As soon as everything was in position Tracer fired up the welder and went back to work.

The story Wheeljack had offered went by Axle’s audios while the medic was concentrating on getting the diversion expert’s T-cog repaired. His previous outburst was something he tried to cover up by admitting that everything was fine. In reality the innards of the organ had been compromised. The wires and clamps he had collected were vital in keeping the cog functional.

Axle didn’t want to alarm the femme as it seemed she was already worried more than she needed to be. After a few minutes he was able to get the first several wires connected, but the integrity of the organ was in jeopardy.

"Jack. I need you to get the cranial unit done as soon as you can."

After speaking to the mechanical engineer out loud, Axle quickly turned to a private comm link.

>>"I don’t want Tracer to hear this, but the T-cog is starting to fail. I need to get the entire trinity housed. If this organ shuts down the brain module will quickly follow. After that it’ll only be a matter of time before his spark extinguishes."<<

Axle looked up at the white mech with a worried expression on his face.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Smokescreen85 » Tue Jul 03, 2012 6:25 pm

Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Wheeljack’s Lab

Axle’s verbal answer to his question was not as alarming to Wheeljack as the private one the field medic quickly sent to the mechanical engineer right afterwards. Smokescreen’s T-cog was failing and it needed to be housed and reconnected with the rest of the Trinity organs as soon as possible. The mad scientist could clearly sense the urgency in Axle’s words. This was just as much a life and death struggle as any battle with the ‘Cons. One wrong move or error in judgment and Tracer would be missing Smokey forever.

Keeping with the private channel already established, Wheeljack responded, flashing the medic an equally worried look: >>”Understood, Axle. I will expedite my efforts and alert you immediately when I am finished."<<

Closing the comm link, the mechanical engineer turned his attention back to his worktable where all of the parts he needed were laid out next to the completed torso section. Fabricating the helmet portion would be easy enough. Using a blow torch, Wheeljack heated up a thick piece of metal, which allowed the scientist to easily bend and mold it into the appropriate shape. Once 'Jack was happy with the overall look, additional smaller metal bits were then welded together to form the rallybot’s signature chevron that decorated the front of his helmet. It was all coming together nicely, but now came the hard part. Smokescreen’s faceplate and neck regions were comprised of many more intricate pieces to allow for range of motion and facial expressions. It was nothing Wheeljack couldn’t handle, of course, but he couldn’t rush it too much, either. After all, it was a very delicate task to manage.

Okay, hands steady, now let’s do this, Wheeljack thought to himself confidently as he continued with his work. Thankfully, time passed with little to no distractions coming his way, allowing the scientist to completely focus on fabricating a new faceplate. Afterwards he inserted two brand new optics into the empty holes and covered them with blue tinted glass. Once that was done, ‘Jack moved on to the neck, which had to be flexible enough without also being too weak and thus vulnerable in battle. Using sturdy but more pliable alloys was the key here to ensure everything functioned properly. Ahh, there we go! That's perfect! His thoughts signaled that the most difficult part was finally done. Pleased with the results, the mechanical engineer smiled under his face shield as he straightened his posture up and placed his welding torch back down on the worktable.

Wheeljack then cracked his stiff knuckle joints with satisfaction before reaching back down to assemble the larger fabricated pieces. First, ‘Jack carefully installed the faceplate into the helmet portion of Smokescreen’s new cranial unit, making sure the edges were aligned and hooked together properly. Then, the scientist lifted the neck piece up and attached it under the base of the cranium via a ball joint. Finally, once all was secured, the engineer connected the diversion expert’s newly constructed head module to the top of the finished torso, utilizing another ball joint as everything fitted perfectly into place.

“There, his head and torso are done," Wheeljack exclaimed aloud, looking over at Axle. Checking his internal chronometer, ‘Jack quickly realized that several breems had passed while his concentration had been so focused on completing the new cranium before it was too late. Hopefully, he had not taken too much time in doing so. Otherwise, there would not only be a dead diversionary tactician in his lab, but a very distraught femme, as well.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Wreck 'n Rule » Fri Jul 06, 2012 4:26 am

Motto: "I can totally prove that I'm not a zombie! Just lean over hear, and let me take a little nibble out of your brains."
Weapon: Double Barrelled Shell Launcher
Corridor

"AGH, NO!", Red Alert yelled in frustration as the turbofox managed to slip away from him. The security director made a futile attempt to grab him as Razr darted to the right of him, but he was just too small and too quick.

"No, no, slaggit NO!", he grumbled to himself as he stopped and turned around.

Red Alert expected to find the turbofox waiting just down the hallway like the last two times- but he wasn't. Instead Razr had continued running down the hallway. Still determined not to let the small creature get away, Red Alert ran after him.

Red Alert ran as fast as he could, though it nowhere near fast enough to catch up to the turbofox. The security director might have had a better chance in his much faster alternate mode had they not been aboard an Autobot vessel. Maybe some of the Autobots with much smaller alternate modes could traverse quickly through the corridors without problem, but most alternate forms were too big to safely make some of the sharper, narrower turns.

At some point Razr was too far ahead for Red Alert to see, but fortunately his olfactory sensors could still pick up his sent. After rounding a corner, the security director stopped in his tracks. In front of his was the docking tube that led to the Guardian.

"You're taking me to the Guardian?", Red Alert asked rhetorically, "But why?"

Red Alerts processors worked overtime as he contemplated where Razr was leading him. He thought back to the missing shuttle, Wheeljack's lies, tamped sensor readings, the Ark-19 leaving and launching an escape pod, Prowl's lies, the "unintentional" orbital bounce, the turbofox leading him around right now.....

"Dear Primus,", Red Alert said as he came to a conclusion, "This is what Prowl wanted all along, isn't it? Everthing on the Ark-22 has just been a distraction to give him time to prepare. And now he's leading me right onto his own ship, his territory on his terms."

Red Alert felt a fool that he hadn't realized it until now. He had been running around for the past cycle trying to find answers, suspicious of some of his own friends like Bluestreak and Inferno. He had run himself ragged, and now he was most likely heading into a trap of Prowl's own design. Of course, Red Alert had to admit that the military strategist's logic was sound. Red Alert's had never been on the Guardian before. As opposed to the Ark 19 where he'd been stationed for some time and knew all of it's security systems, Red Alert would have limited access on the Protectobot's frigate.

"This is exactly what Prowl wants.", Red Alert said to himself, questioning whether to continue after Razr or not, "There may be no one I can trust over there, not even Kup or the Dinobots, if they're even still alive."

For a moment Red Alert thought about turning around and going back to his quarters, come up with some plan to be better prepared. But no, he couldn't. It would take too much time, time that Prowl probably use to strengthen his own means. It may have been a trap, but Red Alert had already gone too far to turn back.

"All right, if that's the game you want to play, then I'll play. Just don't expect me to play nice.", Red Alert said to himself with purpose as he continued after Razr, into the Guardian.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Fri Jul 06, 2012 7:44 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Wheeljack’s Lab

Axle had taken the time to spare Wheeljack a quick glance in order to gauge the scientist’s progress and to emphasize the seriousness of the dilemma. The private message relayed to him put him slightly more at ease, but only marginally. Axle wanted to give Wheeljack as much time as possible, but the truth was there just wasn’t enough.

His face twisting in annoyance and anger, Axle attempted to conceal his emotions. Unfortunately Tracer had taken that opportunity to assess the progress of both mechs. Her attention zeroed in on Wheeljack first who seemed to be working at an expedited pace.

That alone did not catch her as being unusual, but when she focused her attention on the field medic he seemed to be quite distressed.

Tracer stepped away from the workbench she was working at….leaving both completed door wings……and made her way to Axle’s side…who had tried to turned his attention back to him work; hoping to Primus the femme did not see his expression.

“What? What is it? What’s wrong?"

Axle quickly picked up another scale clamp and began trying to place it over several of the deteriorating wires. He tried to feign detachment but it just wasn’t something he could do successfully. After a moment under Tracer’s scrutinizing glare the field medic put down his tools and let out a heavy sigh.

“Look. Things are getting a bit….complicated. We need to get Smokescreen’s frame completed as quickly as possible."

Tracer stared down at the mech. Her optics narrowed and her voice was low.

"’Complicated?' Complicated how? And don’t you dare sugar coat it. I want to truth…all of it!"

Axle’s jaw dropped slightly in surprise at just how quickly the meek and pleasant femme’s demeanor had done a complete turn-around. The medic shook his head slightly as he closed his mouth and thought about just what to say to the scout.

“Okay. While I was repairing Smokescreen’s T-cog I came across a troublesome issue. The inner workings of the organ are beginning to deteriorate. And if that hold true for one of the trinity of organs then the others are sure to follow."

Tracer took a step back as she kept her optics locked on the medic. This is not happening. After a moment the blue and white femme grabbed the sides of her head and gave it a steady shake. She suddenly stopped eyes wide and bright as her hands lowered back down to her sides. She had been staring at Axle intently, but she was not even looking.

Axle cocked his head to the right as he watched Tracer give that thousand mile stare before she propelled herself past Axle’s work area and made her way to the canister that held Smokescreen’s spark. When she reached the table she carefully lifted the storage device and slowly brought the window to eye level. Tracer let out a gasp when she saw the spark was not as luminous as it had originally been.

"WHEELJACK….!"

(OOC: I’m gonna post on the Guardian with Razr. You can have Red follow whenever you’re ready, WnR)
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Smokescreen85 » Sat Jul 07, 2012 11:35 am

Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack was pleased with his work thus far. While still unpainted, sporting a dull silver finish, Smokescreen's new body was coming along nicely. Fabrication on the new torso and cranial unit was completed and ready to receive the Trinity organs as soon as Axle was ready. All that was needed were a pair of arms and legs, but those wouldn’t take too long to construct. In comparison to the difficult effort that had just been achieved, the four appendages would be a breeze to finish.

Having not heard the most recent exchange between his two comrades, Wheeljack almost jumped out of his armor plating when Tracer suddenly shouted his name from across the short distance between himself and where she now stood. The scientist quickly spun around to face her. “What’s wrong?!" The mechanical engineer asked, not understanding at first what was upsetting her. A moment later, 'Jack realized that she was holding the rallybot’s spark up to her optical level and what she saw was clearly the reason for her outburst. Not waiting for an answer, ‘Jack rushed to the distraught femme’s side and peered into the canister, himself. “Oh, no...."

Wheeljack then turned his glare over to the field medic whose worried expression had only gotten more intense. "Axle, it appears that Smokey’s spark is beginning to fade. His new torso and head are finished over on my worktable so you can begin transplanting the Trinity organs whenever you are able." The engineer took another quick peek at the diversion expert’s spark before returning his attention back to Axle. “And by the looks of things, we don’t have much time. Do you require any help with the transplants or should I just stay out of your way and begin working on the arms and legs, instead?"
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Mon Jul 09, 2012 10:55 am

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Wheeljack’s Lab

“I know, Jack."

Axle had quickly stood up from his stool and was slowly making his way to the partially built body where he took a scrutinizing look at the chest cavity where Smokescreen’s spark would reside. The chamber was built perfectly to the required specifications…of course this didn’t surprise the field medic it was, after all, Wheeljack who had fashioned it.

After checking the spark chamber Axle moved to the cranium now attached to the neck of the newly created body. Axle didn’t care if the faceplate was in place, his concern lie within. He carefully squatted down and gently tilted the head up so he could gain a better view of the free space. Pulling his digits close together Axle plunged his hand inside the cavity. After a moment of internal exploration he gently withdrew his hand and lowered the head back down onto the table.

He was prepared to turn back around but stopped suddenly and let out a low groan as he gripped the edge of the worktable. After a moment Axle raised a hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. The medic was sure to keep his movements hidden, he had no desire to agitate the femme, nor did he want to worry the engineer. Not now.

Axle finally turned to face the two Autobots and gave a slight nod in Wheeljack’s direction.

“The spark chamber is to specification, as is the cranial unit. Get the head connected. I can handle the transplants. When I make it to his T-cog I’ll require your assistance in lifting the body to install it. But no worries, it’ll be the last to go in. Right now I need to get his spark seated. In the meantime fabricating the limbs would be good."

At that Axle turned his gaze to Tracer who was now staring directly at the medic, the canister pressed close to her own chestplate.

“Tracer. Tracer!"

The femme shook her head slightly at the sound of her name. Even though she had been staring directly at the medic she didn’t even see him.

“Yes."

“I need to transplant his spark. And I need your help to do it."

He motioned for her to join him next to the newly build shell. By the time he readied the wiring Tracer was by his side and looking at the empty cavity. She clutched the canister even tighter as Axle grabbed and held a series of cables and looked up at her.

“I need you to remove his spark from the canister….carefully."

“Okay, but shouldn’t I use th…"

Axle quickly shook his head before she could even finish her question. There no need for her to go on, he already knew what she was going to ask.

“Using the spark extractor would take too long. It’s also far too awkward and can be extremely messy."

Tracer simply stared at the medic as if he was speaking an unknown dialect of ancient Cybertronian. How does he expect me to do this?

“Put the canister down and open it up. Gently insert your hands and cup his spark. Pull out slowly and level him over the spark chamber. Remove your hands carefully and just back away. He’ll find his way on his own from there."

When she didn’t respond to his instructions Axle cocked his head to the side and called out to her as he had done before.

“Tracer! Come on! We need to get this done now! Stop your gawking and get to it!"

The higher volume of the medic broke Tracer out of her trance and refocused her attention on the instructions he had given her. Finally nodding her head in acknowledgement she placed the canister down and removed Smokescreen’s spark. She gently surrounded the light blue sphere with her hands and very carefully made her way to where Axle was waiting. The wiring was gathered in the field medic’s hand making it easier for Smokescreen to settle in.

Axle kept his optics glued to the femme as she lowered her hands down over the chamber. With a slow nod of approval from the medical officer, Tracer removed her hands and watched intently as the spark lowered on its own and settled in. Swiftly Axle went to work running the wires and lines that would support the other two organs and vice versa.

Tracer stepped back gradually as both medic and engineer went back to work. She suddenly broke off her gaze and looked down to her hands. She was tempted to ask if she could provide any more help, but she just couldn’t bring herself to speak. From her hands she raised her optics to take in the new body that both mechs were now working so diligently on.

Without a word Tracer backed even further away and settled at one of the farthest benches in the lab. The entire ordeal, the trip to Earth, facing Oil Slick, seeing Smokescreen hurt, it was just too much. Turning the stool, she had sat on, around she laid her crossed arm on the table top and rested her head on top of them. It didn’t take long before she had slipped into recharge.

(OOC: Just a slight edit. Thanks for the heads up Smokey.)
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Smokescreen85 » Tue Jul 10, 2012 6:13 pm

Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack watched and listened as Axle inspected the completed torso and cranial unit that would soon belong to Smokescreen. The field medic was satisfied with the results and turned to address the mechanical engineer, instructing him to begin work on the four limbs while he handled the transplants. The mad scientist nodded in agreement. “No problem, Axle. When you’re ready to install the T-cog, just let me know."

Without further delay, Wheeljack moved over to the hover cart and began to rummage through it for the necessary parts that he would need to fabricate a pair of arms and legs, not to mention the corresponding hands and feet. Once the pieces were gathered in his own arms, ‘Jack made his way to a secondary work station since Axle and Tracer now occupied his primary one where they were busy transplanting the diversion expert's disembodied spark into the new, partially built frame.

As he blocked out the field medic's loud admonishment of the troubled femme, Wheeljack laid out all of the metal pieces onto the smaller table in front of him before igniting his laser torch again. Picking up one of the parts in his hand, the mechanical engineer began welding it together with another section before sparing a quick glance back at the successful transfer of Smokey's spark. At least it was a start with the rest of the Trinity to follow soon.

As time passed, things began to take shape on Wheeljack's end while Tracer fell quietly into recharge. ‘Jack hadn’t even noticed at first and when he finally did, he was not concerned in the slightest. On the contrary, it was the best thing for her right now as sleep mode would keep her from seeing anything else that might disturb her further. “I see that Tracer is taking a stasis nap," Wheeljack commented to Axle as the engineer continued to work diligently on the fabrication of the new appendages. “At least she’s not freaking out anymore, which allows us to focus more on the tasks at hand. Maybe when she wakes up, Smokey will be online again to greet her. I'm sure that'll make her feel better."

The scientist knew that it was a lofty goal to be sure as even if the Trinity organs were successfully transplanted into the completed body, the rallybot would still require some rehabilitation time in a CR chamber in order to complete the process ‘Jack and the field medic had begun. Thankfully, Wheeljack had his own cryogenic pod in his lab that he had built some time ago, himself, just in case one of his own experiments malfunctioned in his faceplate and he needed immediate repairs. After all, if 'Jack always bothered the resident medic every time he injured himself, no one else would ever get fixed. The pod was smaller than a regular CR unit, but it would do the job just fine.

Once another breem had gone by, Wheeljack looked up from his work and back at Axle. “I’m almost finished here with the limbs. Will you be needing my help soon?"
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Thu Jul 12, 2012 7:09 am

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Wheeljack’s Lab

It had been some time since the spark transplant had taken place and at the present time Axle was completing the run of thin wiring and harnesses that would supply the remaining two organs with the needed energon and electrical supplies they required. He was arm deep in the spaces surrounding the spark chamber when he heard Wheeljack speak up making an observation concerning the femme.

Axle had been too engrossed in his work to even realize Tracer had left the immediate area and disappeared. Curious the field medic took a quick scan about the room and finally spotted the scout sitting on a stool with her head resting on her arms. Axle let out a heavy sigh as he returned to work.

“Thank Primus for small miracles. What Smokescreen sees in her I’ll never know. She’s a pile of over energized nerves."

With the last connection made Axle straightened up to his full height but quickly grabbed the edge of the slab steadying his balance. He let out a low groan as he placed his free hand over his mid-section. He hadn’t been out of the medical bay himself before he was called to assist in helping the diversionary technician. But now that the joors have passed by the pain meds that were administered to help him rest were wearing off. Now it felt as though the hole Mototrmaster had punched through his abdomen was steadily reopening.

“I don’t know about your friend being online to greet her…after all he’ll need time in a CR chamber. Not to mention fresh infusions of energon, fuel, lubricants…Primus, the list could go on. Let’s just keep our actuators crossed that she stays out of the way or better yet in recharge."

The mixture of pain and frustration was already showing. Axle was normally a calm mech, but in a delicate situation; toss in a dangerous medical procedure and an unhinged loved one, and the medic was sure to blow a gasket.

Taking one last look at the work he had just completed Axle closed up the spark chamber and retrieved Smokescreen’s brain module. He moved to the head of the slab and took hold of the empty shell’s shoulders. Slowly Axle pulled toward him until the cranium was hanging slightly off the table’s edge.

Now that the head was in the proper position Axle squatted down so that he was able to see into the cranial cavity. With a low sigh he gently inserted the brain and got to work making the necessary connections in their proper order.

With his head turned up and his optics focused on the ceiling, Axle responded to Wheeljack’s announcement concerning the limbs he’d been structuring.

“Alright but I won’t need your help just yet. Give me a breem."

With a final click Axle let out a satisfied grunt and removed his hand from the now fully functional cranial unit. The medic removed a small hand held scanner and ran it over both newly transplanted organs. Both seemed to be functioning satisfactorily but they still needed the last of the trinity in place before they could sync their energies. With a small frown etched on his face Axle moved away from the shell to retrieve the T-cog he had been working on earlier. The clamps seemed to be still holding giving Axle hope that the transplant did not take as long as it seemed.

Organ in hand, the medic stepped to the side of the slab and cleared his throat.

"Wheeljack? If you could turn the body over then I can get this in its proper place."
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Smokescreen85 » Sat Jul 14, 2012 8:53 am

Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Wheeljack’s Lab

“That’s for sure, Axle. And I thought only Red Alert had nerve receptors wound up that much," Wheeljack chuckled as he responded to the field medic’s initial comment regarding Tracer. The engineer then echoed his comrade’s next sentiment with a nod. “Yes, I hope she remains in recharge, too. If something went wrong with Smokey while she was awake, well, we’d have an inconsolable femme to contend with, and that would not be good."

Wheeljack then continued his work on the four limbs, specifically fabricating the intricate details of Smokescreen’s actuators on his hands. Each tiny knuckle joint had to be fitted perfectly so that the rallybot could grasp things properly not to mention ball up a fist and punch some fraggin ‘Con right in their ugly faceplate once he was back online. ‘Jack looked forward to seeing his friend again and talking to him like the old days when the counter-infiltration was relatively quiet and uneventful. Things on Earth haven’t been the same for a while now, and that would likely not change for the foreseeable future.

“You got it," Wheeljack replied to Axle requesting another breem before he would need the mechanical engineer’s assistance. That gave the scientist just enough time to attach the new feet to the diversion expert’s completed leg modules. Utilizing a pair of balls joints, ‘Jack easily connected each foot into place, listening for the usual click that signified that the pieces were secure. “Okay, that about does it," the white mech announced as he stood back from the secondary work station and admired his work on the four appendages. “They came out looking pretty good if I do say so myself. Of course, a decent paint scheme will make them look even better."

Wheeljack’s admiration of his handy work was interrupted once Axle alerted him that his help was now required. “No problem. Right away." The mad scientist said as he hurried over to the main work table and carefully took hold of Smokescreen’s limbless figure. He then gently turned it over so that he wouldn’t jostle the internal components which were already installed. Without arms or legs, the body was a bit lighter and easier to maneuver. Once the half put together frame was resting on it’s chest plate, ‘Jack backed away to allow the field medic room to work.

As Wheeljack watched, he couldn’t help but worry about the final outcome of everything that they were doing here. If Smokescreen turned out okay, the only thing that needed to be explained would be his new, outward appearance. That wouldn’t be a problem since Cybertronians upgraded themselves all the time. However, if Smokey didn’t survive then Tracer’s reaction would be the least of their worries. Try explaining the death of a comrade to Prowl and the circumstances surrounding it. The prick-bot would likely send them all to Garrus-9, the mere thought of which made the engineer’s own framework shudder slightly.

“I don’t mean to put any more pressure on you, but he’s going to make it, right Axle?" Wheeljack asked as the look of concern on his visage was mostly hidden by his face shield. Smokescreen was a close friend and ally and his loss would have lasting effects for all of them. Unable to do anything more until the field medic was done, the mad scientist simply crossed his arms and hoped for the best, but still dreaded the worst.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Sat Jul 14, 2012 9:45 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Wheeljack’s Lab

Axle let out a low chuckle at Wheeljack’s response to his own observation of Tracer. It was true…the femme would become nearly frantic at times. He didn’t know if it was out of actual concern for the diversionary expert, after all he had no clue just how well or how long the two have known one another, or if she was simply the worrisome type. But there was no reason to dwell on it now as there were more pressing matters to attend to.

The field medic waited patiently, T-cog gently cradled in his cupped hands, as Wheeljack made his way to the slab and carefully turned over Smokescreen’s nearly completed body so the organ could be transplanted.

Wheeljack quickly moved aside giving Axle all the space he needed to get to his work. Not hesitating the medic went straight to business. With a low grunt he leaned over the small opening left in the back plating and began to pull the wires he had strung through the spark chamber and down the back strut to the T-cog’s location. With the slack he needed in place Axle carefully lowered the organ and methodically set the harnesses and wiring into place.

The work didn’t take long as performing these types repairs, especially in the field, were almost routine. There were a few last connections to make but they happened to be at the rear of the cog, making them slightly more awkward to work with but no more difficult.

When the sound of Wheeljack’s voice floated through the room, Axle barely registered it or the engineer’s question. In response Axle simply grunted, until he realized just what the white mech had asked.

Axle stopped his fiddling and cast Wheeljack a glance over his shoulder. His expression unsure.

“I..."

Pulling in a deep intake of air and holding it for a moment, Axle reset his gaze, optics narrowed and his voice determined.

“If I have anything to say about it…he’s going to be just fine. I promise you he’ll be fine."

Axle kept his optics locked with Wheeljack for a moment longer and then turned back to his work. He kept silent for nearly a breem before he lifted his head and let out a low sigh. He waited and then slowly looked over his shoulder at the scientist.

“How will you explain why he’s been absent for so long only to return in a brand new body? There’ll be some who’ll recognize he’s in a new full body build and not in his own reworked one."

Before he got an answer Axle turned his attention back to his work.

“He’s going to be in a CR chamber for some time. He’ll also need a lot of rehab. Hydraulic adjustments, sensor tweaks, processor firewalling. The list goes on and on. And that doesn’t include everything I mentioned earlier…Engergon infusions, lubricant distribution. Wheeljack, are you willing to keep him hidden here for however long it takes to get him fully functional? And Tracer, she’ll refuse to leave his side. Are you going to hide her as well?"

Axle shook his head as he plunged his hands in deep around the T-cog.

“What kind of hold does he have over you anyway? Will this be the extent of your help? How much more can you possibly do than you already have?"
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Smokescreen85 » Sun Jul 15, 2012 8:14 am

Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack was relieved when the field medic promised him that Smokescreen would be fine, but a breem later 'Jack was taken by surprise with all of the questions that were suddenly being hurled at him one right after another. It was enough to make the scientist’s processor ache. “Whoa there, Axle! You’re overloading my circuits with all your questions! Heh." The mechanical engineer knew that his comrade was only bringing up the obvious, as these questions needed to be addressed sooner rather than later. As it were, ‘Jack had been considering what kind of cover story to use if anyone, such as Red Alert, began inquiring about Smokescreen’s extended absence and subsequent new form.

Letting out a sigh, Wheeljack moved a bit closer to Axle, but remained off to one side to allow the field medic room to continue his work. “Well, the only real hold he has over me is that I’m his friend and I just want to see him get well. There was the one instance when one of my inventions blew up in his faceplate, but I think I’ve more than made that up to him. We’re now in new territory where Smokey’s gonna owe me one. A big one! Heh. Anyway, I’ve actually been considering a cover story to tell and I think I may have something that just might work....

"....Cosmic Rust."

Wheeljack paused for a moment to let his initial words sink in to the field medic’s audios. “Now, I was hoping that most ‘Bots would just assume Smokey got an upgrade, but like you said there will be some with more extensive knowledge of Cybertronian medicine and mechanics that will be able to spot a complete rebuild. Therefore, the only explanation I could come up with, besides the truth, is that Smokey got infected with cosmic rust and by the time I was able to make enough Corrostop to treat him, it was too late to save his old body, hence the rebuild. I figured we could say that Smokey came over here at first to help me set up my new lab and when he was unpacking a few things that I had brought back with me from Cybertron, a micro-organism was on one of those items and it infected him. When he later showed signs of the disease, I immediately quarantined him here in my lab to prevent the infection from spreading. I could also say that I destroyed everything that was contaminated, including his old body, and thus there would be no evidence of the rust, itself."

The mechanical engineer glanced over at Tracer’s inert form briefly before returning his attention back to the field medic. “As for hiding Tracer, well, I’m hoping that won’t be necessary. I mean, I do have a CR pod in my private quarters in the back, so Smokescreen can regenerate in there for as long as he needs to and if she wants to stay with him then she’s more than welcome to. After that, however, I was hoping Smokey would be back on his feet enough that he could resume his normal function, if not on a restricted basis. Then I wouldn’t have to hide either one of them anymore.

“Now, I’m willing to help Smokey with his rehab as much as possible, but I’m no doctor, Axle. A lot of the things that you just mentioned, transfusions and the like, are better administered by someone such as yourself. I really wouldn’t know what I was doing in that regard." Wheeljack’s optics remained fixated on the field medic before he continued. “I guess that also begs the question - are you willing to see this through until Smokey’s 100% again? You’re not as close to him as I am so I would understand if you didn’t want to or didn’t have the time."

Wheeljack then shrugged as he glanced down at the floor. “Of course, if we tell the cosmic rust cover story sooner rather than wait for someone to ask then sector command would already know where Smokescreen and Tracer are. The longer we wait, the more suspicious Prowl will become once we do finally tell our lie." The mechanical engineer looked back up at the field medic. “So, what do you think, Axle? Will the cosmic rust idea work or are we pretty much screwed?"
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Mon Jul 16, 2012 1:07 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Wheeljack’s Lab

It was something Axle didn’t regret doing…didn’t regret asking. It hadn’t been whirring through his processor the entire time he’d been in the lab helping save Smokey’s life, no; it only recently popped in there. Everything seemed to be so thoroughly worked out he couldn’t help but wonder if the thought even crossed Wheeljack’s own mind. After all, besides himself the engineer was the only other stable headed ‘Bot in the lab.

The field medic kept quite as he rose slightly in order to press deeper into the diversion expert’s back cavity. If there was one thing medics were experts in it was multitasking. His audios were tuned to, not only the sound of the wiring making their necessary connection, but also to Wheeljack as he started to answer his slew of questions.

Cosmic Rust. Axle paused for an astrosecond and raised his optics, not to focus on the other mech, but to stare blankly at the wall in front of him. He gently shook his head and offlined his optics before onlining them once more and returning to his work.

“Cosmic Rust." It wasn’t a question, but a simple reiteration.

Axle twisted slightly making another connection to the cog but kept silent until he was prepared to answer Wheeljack’s worried questions.

“How did the carcinogen wind up here…or better yet how did it wind up in your hands….in your lab? What were you doing with it? What was Tracer doing in your lab? If there was any possibility of this toxin leaving the confines of your lab and endangering the rest of the crew…why didn’t you alert security?"

Another tight connection and a small smile…only two left…and the smile was gone as Axle drew in a deep intake.

“And those are just the questions Prowl will ask. It pains me to think of the copious amount of questions that will come out of Red Alert’s mouth."

Last two connections made and Axle carefully dragged his hand out from beneath the now perfectly seated T-cog. He stared for a moment at the open cavity before he picked up an available rag and absentmindedly began to twist and run it over his hands. He was quiet for a painful amount of time before he tossed the rag onto a tray and leaned into the slab in front of him…his hands catching its edge.

“I’ve spent my fair share of time in the brig for disobeying orders…hell, I’ve even been thrown into solitary, but I’m willing to do it again. I can’t…I won’t stand by and watch all of this…."

Axle straightened back up and spread his hands over Smokescreen and then gestured to the recharging form of Tracer before he lowered his arm and looked over his shoulder at Wheeljack.

“It all would have been for nothing. And I’m not one to do ANYTHING for nothing."

The medic turned back to look down at Smokescreen as he took in a deep intake of air and let it out heavily. An astrosecond later he had turned around to look the engineer dead in the optics, a smile drawn across his face.

"Wheeljack, to answer your question, we’re not only screwed, we’re slagged, pure and simple! BUT, but we were slagged the moment we all agreed to do any of this. We get caught we deserve what’s due…but I don’t intend to get caught. Not now."

Axle placed his hands on Wheeljack’s shoulders, his smile growing wider before his right arm slipped around and behind the scientist’s neck. Axle then began to lead him away from the slab and Smokescreen so they were standing in the center of the room.

“We’re going to make this idea work."

Axle nodded at the mech before he went on.

“But we absolutely cannot tell them that the carcinogen was amongst any of your belongings. We do that Prowl and Red…Red especially…will become suspicious. No, what we need to do is divert them from thinking it was brought on board recently to realizing it had been here since before the 22 was brought here to Earth. The shipyards…perhaps the ship’s last maintenance or upgrade…a dock worker…a transplanted piece of equipment…supplies…"

He released Wheeljack from his grip and began to pace the immediate area. His hand rubbing his chin in thought.

“I need to go to the med bay. I need a few supplies to continue my work on Smokescreen. I also need medical grade energon...and I can’t get that here. I’ll need to go back to the Guardian to get some."

He stopped his pacing and looked at the white mech, the smile long but forgotten.

“I’ll do my best to avoid Ratchet."

He said nothing of keeping away from Red Alert or Prowl. He would simply have to do his best to slip in and slip out.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Smokescreen85 » Mon Jul 16, 2012 5:08 pm

Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack’s cranial ache increased even more as he listened to another round of questions from Axle, ones that would surely come from Prowl and likely Red Alert, as well. Unfortunately, these would only be the beginning of the inquiry when it came to the paranoid security director as he would press further and further until he got to the truth. The mechanical engineer looked a bit defeated as it sounded, at first, as though the field medic had rejected his idea. Of course, it didn’t help matters that ‘Jack hadn’t been more specific in regards to where the cosmic rust originated from. But before the scientist could offer an explanation, Axle started rattling off about spending time in the brig for insubordination and how he wouldn’t let all of what they had done for Smokescreen here be in vain. He then went on to say how they had all been screwed from the very moment they started down this path.

Just when hope seemed lost, Axle approached the engineer and placed both hands on his shoulders, promising that they would make the cosmic rust idea work and offering up suggestions to improve what was quickly becoming a very complex lie. Afterwards, the field medic let go of Wheeljack and began pacing, saying that he needed to procure additional supplies from the Guardian, hoping to avoid Ratchet in the process. Finally, Axle’s questions and verbal thoughts had subsided, allowing ‘Jack to clarify his initial idea.

“My apologies, Axle," Wheeljack began. “I should have more precise when describing my cosmic rust idea. I never intended for it to be something that I had bottled up in my lab. That would be irresponsible of me and raise way too many questions as you pointed out. Nor did I want the rust to be something that got here recently. No, my intention was for us to have picked up the microbe while the Ark-22 was stationed on Cybertron during our recent mission there. You weren’t with us to see it’s current state, but our homeworld has deteriorated so much in the many vorns since we first left that I almost didn’t recognize it. We settled in Iacon and were able to get the place somewhat up and running, but we never got it looking anywhere near what the city used to be. It was infested with cyber-rats and who knows what else.

“Anyway, I think it’s very plausible that while trudging around through the Iaconian ruins we picked up a particle of cosmic rust which hitched a ride on some supplies we brought back with us. That’s what I meant when I said that Smokey could’ve been infected when unpacking some of the stuff I had salvaged while on Cybertron." Wheeljack paused for a moment as another idea crept into his processor. "You know, there was also that time near the end of our mission when I was part of the team that accompanied Shockwave while he was taking readings in our territory. I had some of my own equipment with me, as well, running my own scans. It’s very possible that ol’ one-eyed could’ve planted a single, undetectable micro-organism on something of ours in the hopes of later infecting us. It would be very easy to blame the ‘Cons and make it seem like an attempted biological attack."

Wheeljack grew silent again, allowing everything he had just said to register with the field medic before then second guessing himself on the Decepticons' involvement. “Although, if you just want to keep things simple, Axle, we don’t have to mention Shockwave. After all, Cybertron is in such a ruined state that it’s become the perfect place for an organism like Cosmic Rust to grow and thrive. That concept alone would be believable enough. Who knows what we were all exposed to while up there."

The mechanical engineer glanced over at Smokescreen’s new body before returning his attention to Axle once more. “Well, you should probably go now and get those supplies. If you want, I can attach Smokescreen’s arms, legs and door wings while you're gone so that he at least appears complete on the outside. I could also dispose of his old body while things are quiet around here and Tracer is still in recharge." Wheeljack motioned over to the sleeping femme. “She doesn’t need to be awake when I do that. Agreed?"
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Fri Jul 20, 2012 8:33 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Wheeljack’s Lab

Axle’s head turned so he could look at Wheeljack as the engineer explained his intentions in order to make them a bit clearer. A misunderstanding…easy to overlook. Axle flashed Wheeljack a warm smile and gave him a nod of understanding.

“No need for apologies, Wheeljack. I’m usually overzealous when it comes to most…well, most things that don't involve my medical knowledge."

Axle moved to the now nearly complete Smokescreen and laid a hand gently on the right shoulder. The medic took a long look at the work he and the scientist had accomplished and let out a long low sigh.

“I can keep calm and collected during a medical emergency, but…"

He let his words hang before he produced his hand held scanner and ran it over the new frame. The readings were normal and the functions of all three organs were already at 38%. These were all very promising signs.

“No. No, don’t wake her."

The medic kept his back to Wheeljack and the scanner on, but he stopped moving it over Smokescreen. Everything was the same. The wounds had been different, but everything else was the same. And that secret. How could he have kept it for so long? Another sigh escaped Axle as he spoke lowly to no one in particular optics gazing at the frame yet not seeing.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner. Even when I did break that silence…I’m so sorry."

Axle lifted his hand from Smokescreen’s shoulder remembering what Hex had looked like when the young mech was on his table going through the same motions. He reluctantly turned around to face the other occupant in the room.

“I’m gonna go. Um, I’ll head over to the Guardian first for the medical grade energon then I’ll come back and gather the equipment I’ll need from the medical bay here on the 22."

He flashed the white mech a half-hearted smile as he slowly worked his way to the door of the lab, but stopped when he remembered that Wheeljack had locked them in.

“I…I don’t have the access code. Do you think…"
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Smokescreen85 » Sat Jul 21, 2012 12:56 pm

Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack chuckled as Axle referred to himself as being overzealous when it came to matters that he was not an expert in. The scientist understood that line of reasoning as he felt a similar way when he first attempted to help the stasis-locked Smokescreen without a medic present. Yes, the engineer could build a new body from scratch, but dealing with internal bio-mechanical organs was another thing entirely. ‘Jack thought he could handle things on his own, but he quickly realized that he would need someone else’s assistance. Thankfully, Axle had been available.

“Did you just say something, Axle?" Wheeljack asked as he cocked his cranial unit slightly to one side, having overheard the field medic mutter something that was almost inaudible to the engineer. Axle did not immediately clarify his mumbled words and instead responded by saying that he was leaving to go get the med-grade energon that he needed over on the Guardian before coming back to raid the 22’s medical facility for more supplies. As the field medic approached the exit way, he stopped and asked if the scientist could let him out.

“Of course! No problem!" Wheeljack replied as he hurried to the doors and quickly entered his access code. “There you go, Axle. Good luck and be careful. Watch out for Red Alert and Prowl. Those two could be lurking anywhere. In the meantime, I’ll attach Smokey’s limbs and then take the old body down to the waste disposal chamber. I figure the incinerator is the best way to get rid of all the evidence."

The mechanical engineer then moved away from the door, sparing a quick glance at Tracer, who was still taking a deep stasis nap in the far corner. Wheeljack let out a brief sigh before heading over to the secondary work station where he gathered up the new arms and legs. He then carried them to the primary table and began the process of carefully attaching each appendage to the completed torso unit, which was still lying face down. As he worked, 'Jack made sure that each ball joint fit perfectly into the appropriate socket. Once that was done, he retrieved the finished door wings Tracer had fabricated earlier and began connecting them to the rallybot's back.

At the same time, the scientist had to be very careful not to disrupt the Trinity organs as they continued to improve with each passing astrosecond. Soon he would be finished putting Smokescreen's new frame together and then Wheeljack had the gruesome task of incinerating the old body down in the bowels of the Autobot ship. Hopefully, the engineer would accomplish that drudgery before the troubled femme woke up and saw anything that might upset her all over again.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Wed Jul 25, 2012 6:08 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
(OOC: Shortest. Post. Ever!)


Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack took leave of his work and quickly made his way to the door where he entered his personal encrypted security code. Axle waited patiently as with the engineer’s last keystroke the door slid apart revealing a quiet brightly lit corridor. Axle took a glance from one side to the other to be absolutely sure no one was in to area to see him leave the lab. He didn’t need a nosey mech asking questions.

Relieved that the pathway was clear he stepped out and started on his treck to the Guardian’s medical bay.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Smokescreen85 » Thu Jul 26, 2012 5:04 pm

Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack was so consumed with his work that he didn’t even notice that Axle had already left his lab. It was no matter as there were more pressing matters to attend to while everything remained calm. Once the door wings were secured, the mechanical engineer took a step back and admired his handy work. Smokescreen’s frame was now completed with the exception of the rallybot’s signature red and blue paint scheme. That would come while in the scientist’s own CR pod or perhaps even a full fledged chamber if his Cosmic Rust idea was believed by the higher ups. Then secretly keeping the diversion expert here would no longer be a necessity. Hopefully, command's trust in ‘Jack was strong enough that they would not question his integrity now. Of course, Red Alert would not be so willing to let things go especially considering their past encounter in the shuttle bay.

Sparing another quick glance over at Tracer’s inert form, Wheeljack wiped his hands off with a dry cloth before moving over to the storage room that contained Smokescreen’s old, destroyed body. After entering the access codes, the engineer quickly retrieved the empty shell which was still lying inside of a hover cart. He fastened a lid over top in order to conceal the sickening contents within and quickly pushed the cart towards the lab’s only exit. Before he knew it ‘Jack was outside in the corridor, locking the door behind him before making his way to the nearest turbo lift.

Maintenance Deck - Lower Levels

The turbo lift's doors slid open with a hiss, revealing Wheeljack standing behind them. The scientist swiftly pushed the hover cart out into the hallway and down towards the waste disposal chamber. It didn’t take too long to traverse the corridors as they were completely empty of mechanoid life. Most ‘Bots kept to the upper echelons of the Ark-22, not wanting to venture into the darker areas below the main decks. Only those who were assigned to maintenance duty had any business being down here and since the 22 had only a skeleton crew aboard there was no concern of running into anybody that would ask questions.

Wheeljack stopped the cart at the end of the hallway where the doors to the waste disposal room were located. He then entered his access codes and quickly pushed the hover cart into the darkened room once the threshold was open to him. His own movements caused the lights overhead to flicker before they powered up completely. Ah, the wonders of motion sensors, the scientist thought as he approached the incinerator at the far side of the chamber. Opening the massive machine’s heavy door was a bit of a chore, but ‘Jack managed it nevertheless. After that was done, he took the lid off of the hover cart and lifted Smokescreen’s old body out of what had become a make-shift coffin of sorts.

The mechanical engineer peered down at the empty carcass that he now held in his arms and couldn’t help but wonder if he would have sacrificed this much for another mech, whether it be a femme or other comrade. Wheeljack felt that he had this much courage in him, but he also had his doubts. This was an extreme case to be sure, but if anything it proved just how far Smokescreen was willing to go for his friends. The diversion expert was a good mech deep down even if his methods were often times questionable.

“Well, here it goes, buddy," Wheeljack whispered to the lifeless frame before placing it inside the incinerator’s primary range. He then closed the heavy iron door and locked it into place. The hardest part was now over. All that was left to do was flip a switch to ignite the furnace beneath the machine. The scientist walked slowly over to the nearby control console and punched in a few commands before pushing the final button that caused the incinerator to roar to life.

Wheeljack then moved back in front of the iron door where a small window of thick glass allowed him to see inside as the flames grew larger and larger until Smokescreen’s old body was completely consumed by the inferno. The loud noise of the incinerator was almost deafening to him, but ‘Jack had no worries that anyone else in the ship would hear what was going on as the waste disposal chamber was sound proof so others on board would not be inconvenienced by the audible sounds of burning scrapmetal.

Once the incinerator was finished, it powered down automatically. Wheeljack then returned to the controls and altered the data log regarding this particular usage of the machine. It would simply appear to be a normally run cycle of waste burning and nothing more. Not even Red Alert would be able to find anything amiss here. After that was taken care of, the mechanical engineer walked back over to the iron door and peered inside again where there was absolutely nothing left of his friend’s former body but a bit of smoke lingering inside the range.

Letting out a deep sigh, Wheeljack moved away from the incinerator and pushed the hover cart off into a far corner of the room. The scientist then quickly exited the chamber and made his way back to the turbo lift where he began his ascension back to the upper decks of the Ark-22.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Sun Jul 29, 2012 2:15 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Corridor outside Wheeljack’s Lab

The distance between the Ark – 22 and the Guardian was not long at all, but when faced with the possibility of crossing the paths of Red Alert or Prowl the trek seemed to extend further than expected. This was the issue that Axle had faced on his long and arduous travels. The medic had remembered to thank Primus for no interactions with either the security officer or the Autobot’s second in command. In fact he didn’t encounter anyone.

Axle had finally arrived in corridor the engineer’s lab was located. With any luck no one had spotted him of, if they did, followed him to his finally destination. As he approached Wheeljack’s door, Axle took one finally look over his shoulder to be sure he hadn’t been followed. To his relief he was still alone. With any luck 'Jack is back from the maintenance deck so he can let me back inside.

Moving in closer to the door Axle depressed the chime letting the occupant know there was someone on the other side of the door requesting entrance. No answer…verbal or through the door sliding open on its own.

“No, no, no. Where the he…"

Axle glanced up and down the corridor in the hope of spotting the wayward scientist, but the hall remained empty. At least I can still count myself lucky that no one has decided to visit him.

“Damn. He must still be down disposing of the body."

Unable to decode the lab’s entrance code, Axle was forced to wait. The medic took the time to run a scan on his repairs and his internal repair systems. He had had some pain during the transplants of Smokescreen’s organs but as the time progressed the pain lessened leaving behind only slight discomfort. Once his scans were complete he let out a sigh of relief. His wounds were healing slowly, but thankfully they were healing.

The thought of just resting took over and before he knew it Axle was sliding down the wall behind him; his knees drawn up and his arms crossed over the tops. Taking one last glance down the corridor the field medic placed his head down on his folded arms.
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Transformers Podcast: Twincast / Podcast #106 - McCarthyism
Twincast / Podcast #106:
"McCarthyism"
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