by Smokescreen85 » Sat Jan 24, 2015 2:19 pm
- Motto: ""A look can be deceiving; a touch can be lethal.""
- Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Bounce Chamber
Tracer’s words hit Wheeljack like a brick wall. Of course, she wanted to go down there to make sure Smokescreen was all right. He should’ve expected this response from her. Regardless of the inventor’s assurances, the troubled femme still worried about the diversion expert more than even herself. She would literally do anything for him and vice versa. That had already been well established. Naturally, ‘Jack wanted to immediately protest her request, or was it a demand? It didn't matter. He wanted to tell her that it was not a good idea to go anywhere near the Fallen in her condition, especially if Oil Slick was somewhere on the surface. Unfortunately, he could not say those things. Red Alert was standing right there, after all, and any argument between him and the blue scout would arouse the security director's suspicion, which would then open them up to all sorts of questions they just couldn't answer.
Therefore, Wheeljack had no real choice but to reluctantly agree to her need to go down planet side. “I understand, Tracer,” the mechanical engineer replied with a nod. “I would expect nothing less when it comes to Smokescreen. Still, you need to be very careful when you get down there. Many capable warriors have already suffered severe damage or ended up in stasis because of that fiery beast on top of that mountain. His shield is unbreakable and his powers seemingly limitless. Stay with Smokey in the shuttle. I’m sure there will be plenty for you to help out with in regards to the wounded. Okay?”
Wheeljack then returned his attention to the bounce controls and entered the coordinates that would place Tracer right where she needed to be. “All right, the bounce pad is set to put you down right next to the entrance ramp of the Longevity. Just hit that red button and hop onto the pad. Once you are on the ground, head right inside the shuttle. Got it?”
Before the engineer could get a response out of the drug-addicted femme, he received a transmission from Prowl down on the surface. Apparently, the Fallen’s dark spark is inside Hot Rod’s body, feeding off of the cavalier like a leech. This actually made a lot of sense since a Transformer’s spark was essentially his lifeforce or spirit and thus that would be the only real way for a dead mech to possess the living. Still, Wheeljack had never before heard of a disembodied spark having the ability to exist on its own without some kind of life support. Of course, the Fallen was no ordinary mechanoid and had abilities beyond what anyone could fathom.
Prowl’s follow-up request hit ‘Jack harder than Tracer’s own plea. The black and white needed something to extract the Fallen’s spark from Hot Rod’s deformed and fiery body. The mad scientist shuddered at the thought of using that particular invention, one he had designed and built vorns ago but was never given the go-ahead to mass produce. It was determined by the higher-ups to be far too dangerous, especially if it fell into the wrong hands. Thus, it was locked away deep within Wheeljack’s lab, the only one with access to it was the inventor, himself.
Opening a private comm line back to the surface, Wheeljack attempted to keep his tone cordial:
>>”You known damned well, Prowl, that I have exactly what you need! It was you that wanted me to build it in the first place!”<< Wheeljack paused for a moment, realizing that his tone had been anything but cordial. >>”I will retrieve the spark extractor and bring it down ASAP. It might take me a few breems as it needs to be properly calibrated first. After all, it’s been locked away for a very long time. I’m not even sure it’ll still work. Just give me some time. I shouldn't be too long.”<<
Cutting his comm line, Wheeljack turned to Tracer and Red Alert. “I’ve received new orders from Prowl. I need to get down to my lab immediately to retrieve a weapon that will hopefully end all of this and save Hot Rod’s life in the process. I would have Dex get it, but only I can access it. Tracer, you go ahead down to the shuttle. Like I said, the coordinates are set. Just push the button and take your place on the pad. Red, you can come with me if you like or stay here. Whatever you want, but I need to move quickly. Time is of the essence.”
Not waiting for a further response from either of them, Wheeljack turned and hurried out of the bounce chamber, heading directly for his lab.
Wheeljack’s Lab
One breem later, the doors parted down the center and Wheeljack entered his laboratory, rushing by Dex who was sitting idly off in one corner. Walking briskly to the very back of the room, the mad scientist reached the primary storage closet and quickly entered the security codes. As that door opened, the inventor slipped inside and made his way to the shelves along the righthand side. There were numerous gadgets and whatnot scattered across the metal racks, but the white mech was only concerned with one in particular.
“Ah, there you are,” Wheeljack exclaimed in a low tone, bending down to the lowest shelf and grabbing ahold of a long, rectangular black case. Standing back up to his full height, the engineer carried the case out into the lab proper and placed it onto one of his various workbenches. Taking a deep intake of air, the white mech typed a series of numbers into a small keypad on top of the metallic box. Once that was successfully entered, a few clicks could be heard before a panel slid open on the side of the case, revealing a keyhole. Wheeljack then retrieved the corresponding key from his hip compartment and placed it into the slot.
“Well, here goes,” the inventor muttered nervously as he then turned the key, causing another series of clicks before the case popped open around the seams. Letting out another sigh, Wheeljack lifted the top up and back to reveal the spark extractor sitting snugly inside. It was about the size and length of a standard hand-held cannon, something a Wrecker would carry. At the back just behind the handle was a transparent section where the ripped out spark would ultimately be deposited. At the front end of the extractor were a series of four mandibles across from one another that acted like a claw to secure the tip of the weapon’s wide barrel against a mech’s chest plate. It was similar to any number of torture devices that could be found in a Decepticon interrogator’s arsenal, except this was an Autobot invention. Wheeljack’s invention.
“I was hoping I would never have to see you again, my dangerous friend,” the engineer said to the inanimate object as he carefully lifted the extractor out of the case and placed it down onto the hardtop of the workbench. Moving the empty case out of the way, Wheeljack focused all of his attention on the spark extractor, grabbing a set of tools before going to work on cleaning and recalibrating the weapon for use against the Fallen.