- Motto: "you build it, i'll break it!"
- Weapon: Plasma Cannon
Med bay – Deep in Thought/Flashbacks of Yesterday
Contemptor lounged back, more at ease now with the probing tendrils that were working their way in and around his shoulder. The knives, clamps, and laser-scalpels all working in unison as they chopped, moved, and reaffixed the damaged gears and rotators that were damaged by the super-cooled nitrogen from Ironhide’s counter attack in the Iranian Desert. One that Contemptor would be sure that he would never forget, nor let Ironhide forget in due course, and whilst his thoughts turned to revenge, Contemptor let a chuckle rumble up from his vocal processor as he watched Mal Practice manipulate Vindicator’s prone form, the limbs of the Siege Master whirling in the air as the Decepticon Medic pulled, poked and dug around inside Vindicator’s cranial unit.
It was a comical sight to Contemptor, and one that he would definitely keep for posterity, a little bit of blackmail would go a long, long way – especially if listening to Psychout was anything to go by! But then again, this was the Decepticon Empire, and backstabbing, betrayal and blackmail; well it went hand in hand with being a Decepticon, so why not use it to full effect?
The truck-former slowly moved the fingers on his left hand, the motion feeling more relaxed and smoother thanks to the invasive, yet quick, surgery of the probes that Psychout had commandeered from his interface with the Med Bay’s mainframe.
“Just like rolling off the assembly line!” Contemptor remarked with a smile on his face as the tendrils slowly retracted from his shoulder, the small, but firm clamps retracted with shards of carbonised metal, some of it still frozen, and other blackened bits of aged materials, still within their grasp. “Well I’ll be a proto-form’s illegitimate progenitor...” Contemptor said as his optics focused and zoomed in on the retracting clamps, targeting the small bits of metal. “...That was the junk that was causing my shoulder discomfort? Frakking automated repair systems!” The large Decepticon grumbled darkly as he folded his arms over his chest “That’s the last time I ever let an automated repair system replace a broken limb! Especially if it’s on the Ultrax...damned ship can’t even hold itself together much less repair damaged soldiers.
All his grumbling aside – and he was pretty good at grumbling – Contemptor watched Psychout eject himself from the mainframe of the Med Bay and proceeded to make his way from the repair center, complete with a ‘shopping list’ from Mal Practice – still wrist deep in Vindicator’s brain casing.
Contemptor stood and flexed his wrist, turning it left and right whilst clenching and unclenching his fist, wriggling his fingers slowly, then rapidly. He rotated his arm at the shoulder – no grinding sound and definitely no more stiffness. Psychout was good, but when he was focused, he was fragging well excellent!
“So what’s the prognosis Doc...” Contemptor asked Mal Practice “And spare me the jargon and medical mumbo-jumbo. I might be an intelligent mechanoid, brutal and twisted too...” he paused as he looked over Mal Practice’s shoulder at the shimmering and sparking neural network that was his mentor’s brain unit. “...but when it comes to technical jargon and professional ramble or babble, then it’s over my head!” he made a swiping motion with his newly repaired left arm over the top of his head, a quirky grin on his face as he did so.
“I wonder what’s going on inside his processors right now...” Contemptor stated, half out of curiosity, half matter-of-factly as he waved his right hand over the Siege Master’s amber optics, as he slumbered.
Vindicator, lay inert, his internal memory units cycling – as if he was remembering.
“Hey Vin!” the other miner shouted over as he set the blast chargers in the adamantine rock, ready to blast out the outer metal ore to reveal more of the rich energon seams. “Move yer lumbering aft-plate outta the way or we’ll be scraping you off the mineshaft!”
“Yeah, yeah Tremolo!” The bigger mechanoid rumbled as he put down one of the mining hammers and moved over to the blast shield that was finally erected by four other miners that would keep them safe from the flying adamantine shards, proven to be lethal to Cybertronian Miners, especially to the optics for there were the few miners that were taken out, suffering from "Black Rock" - the term was struck because the black shards of adamantium ore ended up being wedged deep inside the optical units of the miners.
Vindicator, lumbering with the weight of the penta-cannons, and the pair of mining hammers, finally made his way behind the blast sheild as Tremolo finished setting the charges to break open the rock-facing. Vindicator gave the thumbs up sign and then, like the rest of the miners, braced for the impact of the detonation.
There was an audio splitting bang as the charges went off...
...There was shouting and what sounded like the clamour of voices as smoke filled the gloom of the mine. There was the limp, and inert form of one of the miners at Vindicator's feet, the dead miner's energon, splattered on the ground, and over Vindicator's right foot as the seeping flow of energon came from the fallen miner's cranial unit. The head of the miner had been staved in that much that the housing was cracked and damaged, the crainial circuits of the fallen cybertronian damaged beyond system repair. Tremolo was gone, and Vindicator was in a rage.
He picked up both his mining hammers, and in a scream of anger, Vindicator launched himself at the throng of guard's and began to demolish them one by one. The static power in the hammers making short work of their armour as the hammers, swung by the titanic Vindicator bit into the Autobot Guards. Vindicator smashed one of them in the head, lifting the guard's head from his shoulders, as he stepped through and unleashed a volly of point blank destruction from the Penta-Cannon mounted on his right arm...
Contemptor sat as he watched Mal Practice, and listened to the medic's ranting and grumbling as he continued to work away inside Vindicator's head.
"Ya know doc..." Contemptor began "...I really have no idea why i suddenly had a soft spot for a damned seeker, Hellion much less...its not like I've had to fight others off for her, or earn her affection..pft.."
The truck-former huffed as he sat back down on a comfortable chair in the med bay.