Ep 1.5 - 'Castling' - Closed

[Deleted]

<<OOC: Set Week 1, Day 2. With Starscream.>>

The Nemesis Medbay didn't have a 'waiting room'. It had a corridor in which the queuing injured were welcome to wait until Knock Out or one of his periodically-overworked staff could fit them in. Well-wishers and those waiting on news from inside were in the way, wasting time and a general aberration in a warship with excellent internal comm.s and an ongoing list of tasks that needed doing.

Fairwinds, as was often the case for the Commander's throttle cassette, was an exception to the unspoken rule. Technically she was working in the hallway, but she had a workbench upon which to solder and repair Eradicon processors to a state where memory files could be recovered. The drones were simple sent back to the plant to be recycled, but the awakened mechs needed their processors picked apart more delicately for useful data before they were reforged.

Edd, as this Vehicon had named herself, had gone to the Well from a battery of shots to the helm and torso that didn't look Autobot in origin. Fairwinds would extract her final moments as she'd seen them and submit what she found to Soundwave's ongoing MECH database. It was fiddly work, and she had elected to sit on the floor to the right of the Medbay's entrance to do it.

Lord Megatron was in surgery. His condition was stable, and much of the repair work was largely cosmetic, but still she lurked anxiously. Knock Out had given her a brief breakdown of the state of her Carrier's processor, in part to consult her as an unofficial mnemosurgeon with regards to how her Master's thoughts were (not) interacting with his memories. She was concerned for how a psychologically younger warlord would manage, and wanted to dock as soon as possible. Megatron would be on medical leave until his processor had righted itself, but he'd still be interacting with the crew. Her. The Eradicons. Shockwave. And worst of all -

Scrap. She knew the sound of those heels... Speak of the devil and he shall come.

"Commander," she uttered, because you were supposed to acknowledge his seniority at every opportunity and then again at any more that he made up on a whim.

[Deleted]

Starscream appeared at the end of the hall.

He strolled idly, his hands folded behind him. Even at a distance he radiated an air that was both smug and assured. It was a far cry from the previous day, when he had reappeared on the Nemesis after an extended absence still bearing the lines of fresh weld from an unknown field injury that slashed across his chest. His manner had been snappish and apprehensive, and he had barked at anyone who startled him.

Then he had found about about Knock Out's newest patient.

The damage still stood out on his chassis, ugly and raw. But now he walked boldly through the ship, no longer jumping at shadows. It was with thinly restrained glee that the Decepticon Second in Command had taken up his duties again in the management of the troops and the warship, falling back into his old role with negligent ease. Within hours he had set the Nemesis on a high-altitude course over the ocean and re-established aerial patrols, returning some normalcy to the ship's routine in the shocking absence of its leader.

As to the prickly subject of MECH, Starscream had not yet spoken a word. Casually ignored it, focusing all of his attention on the warship.

Now, his red optics fell upon Fairwinds.

"Fairwinds," he said. He came to a halt and looked down at her in amusement. "I'm surprised. Don't tell me that Knock Out has banished you to the hall, even in the face of Lord Megatron's impairment?"

[Deleted]

The cassette's helm plates flattened completely, as much from dislike as respect. Starscream had returned from his unofficial, unannounced and unknown sabbatical with energy and great efficiency, and that was so appreciated at present that no one had raised any queries.

She openly eyed the damage to his chassis, letting the moment draw out before finally dragging her optics up to his sleek, quietly-smug faceplate. "No. Master's in surgery, and I didn't want to get in the way."

Fairwinds pushed the decapitated helm aside with one foot, resetting her needles back inside her throat and sliding the datacables in her tongue back to root mode.

She smiled up at the 2iC. "But don't worry - it's nothing critical. Autorepair's gonna take care of the most of it." A slim eyebrow notched up, a trait picked up from her carrier. "But you already know all this, don't you, Commander?"

[Deleted]

He did. Sort of. But Starscream was not about to admit to her what he knew. Or for how long he had badgered Knock Out for an update on Megatron’s status before finally just ordering the medic to surrender the details. That had been a revealing session.

Starscream looked at the medical bay door, his optics gleaming. Ah, the Master. Their great warlord, brought low by a MECH operative, his memories possibly severed and and hurled into an unknown void. It seemed that precious little was known about the consequences of the injury he had suffered. Perhaps Fairwinds had been summoned to offer her insight upon the situation. Her talents did lie strongly in deciphering the cryptic neural data that sheeted through a digital intelligence.

The cassette seemed subdued. That was understandable. Starscream had grieved for the loss the Decepticons had suffered in his own way. Mostly by shutting himself in his private quarters and laughing hysterically for ten minutes straight.

Starscream assumed his gravest expression and turned back to Fairwinds.

“Insomuch as I must be expected to,” he said piously. “It is my duty to keep myself informed of all significant affairs on board the ship if I am to be expected to manage Decepticon operations on Earth in our Master’s absence.”

He scratched his chin with one talon and glanced at the door again. A look of genuine curiosity flickered across his face as he studied it.

“A full physical recovery then? But what of his mind? Surely significant mental trauma can be expected to shadow such a grievous injury.”

[Deleted]

"Nah," Fairwinds scoffed, pleased to extol her carrier's resilience and strength.

She hopped up onto Edd's helm to be that bit closer to her audience, wobbling a bit until she found her balance. "It looked pretty gruesome, but the physical damage was pretty contained. Me an' Soundwave set up some wicked partitioning protocols after, like, the third assassination attempt? Yeah. That was the last big head-shot."

She stared off at nothing over Starscream's left wing, then nodded with a hum.

"So anywho, everything's all safe in Master's noggin, but it's all a bit divided up right now, and it wont come together again until autorepair's sorted out the teeny, tiny neural pathways that are too teeny tiny for Knock Out to fix even with his teeniest, tiniest tools," she explained, lifting up one pede to her optic and pinching her claws together as if holding a thread.

Starscream gave no indication that she ought to stop talking, which Fairwinds took as implied encouragement. The Commander certainly seemed interested in their Lord's welfare, though she would bet the farm on his interests being vastly different to her own.

Lord Megatron was not so compromised that he wouldn't be keeping a close optic on everything his dangerously-cunning Second in Command did during his very short tenure as leader. And Fairwinds was going to make sure that the Seeker knew that, delivering as much in the inoffensive guise of excited, throttled prattling.

She shoved her foot through the hole in Edd's visor where she'd been picking at the brain module, then pulled said vital component straight out. Her particular specialism in the field of mnemosurgery was post-mortem, and it wasn't like Edd was going to get any deader.

"It's pretty neat, actually," she chirped, rotating the pitted sphere for the Commander to see. The part was heavier than it looked, and covered in protruding nodes, wires and flecks of protoflesh from its violent removal. "So, like, this is a personality matrix, yeah? And this is your memory bank. Usually they're all synced together, so we see a bro and think 'yeah, like them, they cool', and even though you're not actively remembering all the cool things, the memory bank is subliminally informing your thoughts and feelings behind the scenes."

Starscream did not seem as fascinated by the inner-workings of the Cybertronian helm as Fairwinds was. If anything, he was reading a little disgusted.

She turned the sphere over in her claws, flicking over the access points she'd been injecting into. "Right now, there're a bunch of burns and bits melted together which have separated that subliminal memory stuff from the supraliminal one. So, Master's mind is all there, if not quite all in tact. It's, um, like constantly having to look stuff up. Knock Out's... not really sure how it's going to come across, or exactly how long it'll last for. Could be a week, maybe three."

She placed Edd's brain module on the deck, careful to keep the seams she had been working with directed towards the ceiling. Looking back up Starscream's slim, towering frame, she smiled with an innocent, one-sided shrug. "So there's nothing to worry about, Commander."

[Deleted]

Well, that was interesting. Vile, but interesting.

Swallowing back his revulsion, Starscream gingerly leaned in for a better look at the brain module clutched in Fairwinds' claws. It was not an internal biomechanism you had an opportunity to see often. Not unless you aimed your blows for the head, at least.

His gaze roamed over the inactive sphere. So. Megatron really was lopped off from his memories. Unfortunately, it seemed as if the damage would repair itself over time, the neural links that guided conscious and unconscious perception stitching back together as they spoke.

It didn't sound like Fairwinds was talking down the damage either. Starstream doubted she would sound quite so chipper if her Master truly was in danger of losing the glut of his memories to a skirmish with MECH. Which meant that in little time the warlord would be in possession of himself again - more specifically, he would be reunited with the memory that he had forbidden Starscream to cross words with MECH, even for the purpose of deceiving them. Which of course Starscream had immediately gone and done.

He silently cursed the MECH operative. Why couldn't the man have adjusted his targeting to blast more of that pitted lump in the warlord's head into molten slag?! A Megatron permanently robbed of his past was one that Starscream could deal with. This was going to be a week of bliss followed by the beating of a lifetime.

Starscream leaned back when Fairwinds set the brain down again. His own mind raced.

One week. Three at the most. A slim window.

"Indeed," he said distantly. "It would appear that my concern our Lord would be permanently incapacitated was misplaced. This is good news. When will Lord Megatron be returned online and fit to greet his troops? I suppose the only way to test how his mind will react to this temporary damage is for, er... a familiar face to appear before him."

[Deleted]

His 'troops.' Or just one Air Commander... Fairwinds tapped the brain module with one foot, rocking it on the decking. It left a thin trail of oily residue as it moved. She abandoned the brain to doodle her claw through it, sketching out vague swirly shapes.

"'Online' could be any time," she replied airily, glancing to the door opposite the Seeker. "Knock Out hasn't been updating me every five minutes like I said he had to. Gunna put a pin in his buffer and Tipp-ex in his good polish next time I get a chance."

The cassette trailed off, wide-optics slowly tracking across and up her commanding officer, who probably didn't need to hear about that sort of thing.

"But you're right, Commander," she went on, figuring that appeasing his ego was as good a way as any to get off the topic of revenge through childish pranks. "Familiar faces and interacting with the crew will do a lot to help the pathways recover."

[Feldspar]

As if on cue, the door slid aside and framed the gleaming red form of Knock Out in the corridor.

The Decepticon surgeon was wiping his hands on a rag. There was a bit of something that had clung to his fingertips and his wrists. He made a face as a long suffering sigh curled out of his lips.

On seeing who was standing out there in the hallway, his helm tipped. Knock Out's browplate raised. Oh look. The birdie and the vulture, lurking together over a dead body. Was that - oh yes, it was, based on the gleaming fluids still on her beak - she'd been eating brains again. Maybe she was even sharing with the Air Commander. Well that couldn't hurt.

Ah, this was only the sort of harmony that could be brought about by Lord Megatron being indisposed at the moment.

Or when the Decepticon warlord's mental functions had been scrambled around like one of those space carnival rides. Which unfortunately meant that you'd likely be vomited on by whatever creature had taken up the space next to you.

Knock Out's optics flicked to Starscream and then back to Fairwinds. Fitting analogy.

Oh joy, this special day has become even more special. Right, he could understand Fairwinds taking up her vigil in the hallway. Lord Megatron was her Carrier, and in that case she of course would be waiting. In fact, he was rather surprised she hadn't done that annoying thing birds did and flapped against some windows for a half an hour looking for a way in.

"I see you're both anxiously awaiting my presence," he said, even as he crumpled up the rag in one hand. Freshly wiped, his long talons made an airy gesture in the air. "Oh who am I kidding. You're anxiously awaiting the news. So let's start with that, shall we? Lord Megatron is awake, he's speaking, all systems are steady - he'll be fine."

He paused thoughtfully and tapped his chin with the tip of his finger. "Given time, that is."

Knock Out glanced down at his plating. Little bits of shard and gore had spattered up from his work. Really, it wasn't the surgeon part of his career he minded. It was just how messy it got sometimes. Not that he minded messy under the right circumstances, not at all. There was good messy and there was bad messy and personally, he'd equate picking a thousand melted bits out of Megatron's ruined optic under the bad category.

"Now if unless you have any other questions for me, I'm going to go and clean myself off. Soundwave is with him, the monitors are on, if I'm needed, they'll alert me."

He shrugged. The tires behind his shoulders lazily spun as he indicated the medbay behind him with a flourish of his hand. "You're both welcome to go in, I'm sure you've been... ah, anxious to make sure Lord Megatron is all right."

"Also, don't touch anything," he warned them both as he sauntered past. "Soundwave's just a tad on the reactive side today."

[Deleted]

Megatron was online again, and Nurse Soundwave was in a touchy mood. Oh, wasn’t that marvellous.

Starscream fought to keep his chagrin from showing on his face. Instead he straightened up from his slouch, his hands knit behind his back. Only his talons rattled together nervously.

“Yes, thank you, Knock Out,” he said testily. “All of your... long, hard work and dedication towards restoring the mental faculties of our Lord has not gone unnoticed. Allow me to stand up to lead the round of applause for your efforts.”

Without a further word he shouldered his way into the medical bay. It was as darkly lit as ever, the gloom penetrated only by the glowing lights of the medical equipment. Starscream’s optics darted back and forth as he anxiously sought out the biobed that contained the prone figure of the Decepticon warlord.

Oh Primus, he hoped he was prone. If Megatron was in possession of even a fraction of his recent memories and he was standing on two feet, then a hastily fired missile followed by a rapid exit straight through Fairwinds and Knock Out might be in order.

[Deleted]

Fairwinds had departed once Knock Out was finished at a speed that made Starscream seem polite, because Starscream was not getting to Megatron first. No way hozay.

Rocketing through the admissions portion of the medical bay, Fairwinds winged around the ceiling for a moment whilst she ascertained where her carrier was, then veered through the doorway to the left. She'd not seen the damage Megatron has sustained when he returned to the ship, but Soundwave had given her a comprehensive (though impatiently brief) overview when harassed.

Since their Commander had gone into surgery, Fairwinds had alternated between anxious and outraged. That humans had injured her Master to this degree offended her. It had offended Soundwave too, apparently, and great steps had already been taken towards tracking down suppliers and making it damn near impossible for MECH to make an arsenal of bangy-burny munitions. Unless they already had an arsenal already made.

Hopefully Megatron had been unfortunate enough to be hit with a successful prototype. In the optic, which given the proximity to the brain module and the optical relay providing a handy dandy pipeline of acidic badness, was just all kinds of unfortunate.

Megatron was, true to form, already standing from the berth when she reached him. He'd never been one to linger in repair bays, though she'd not quite determined if that was because he disliked them, had been chucked out earlier by Arena medics so often it was ingrained, or both. Soundwave didn't look overly pleased that the larger mech was making to leave, but then his lurking/hovering could be interpreted as just about anywhere on the emotional spectrum.

Fairwinds watched her master's optics click on to hers, the ridges lowering in thought, and she didn't make contact with his plating until his field had relaxed with an acknowledgement of recognition. She stared openly at the welds spanning out around his ocular cavity and beneath the cover of his helmet. The helmet itself was pitted and warped from where the acid had ignited against it, but Knock Out knew that Megatron would tend to that himself.

His optic had been completely replaced, and the damaged mesh around it excised. A dark gauze had been applied over the area as a framework for his own mesh to regrow into. Beneath the mesh, Fairwinds could just about see where the skeletal structure of his helm had also been repaired - the melted and weakened portions sawn out and replaced with silvery grafts.

It was not this damage that she was concerned with, though. Fairwinds just liked looking at gore, and she had wanted to see what MECH had done for future plotting purposes. Starscream had just entered the room when she hopped across his chassis and hooked her claws over his central seam. She leaned back to meet his questioning, rather dubious stare.

"Fairwinds?"

Her field brightened, and she began to bounce with agitation. "Can I dock, Master? Please pleasepleaseplease please?"

His expression soured with a rumble of irritation. "Yes, fine, just stop."

Fairwinds didn't acknowledge his response, moving as soon as she'd heard 'yes'. She let go with one foot and swung down to where his armor overhung his abdominal plates. Scrunching up beneath the massive plates, the cassette reconfigured with a serious of shunts and clicks until she was pressed in tight and hardlined in.

She dove into his diagnostics, read through the notes and flags Knock Out had left behind and began to hassle Megatron's autorepair to work faster. Fairwinds could see the damage and extent of repairs left to complete inside her master's processor as data alone, but she wouldn't be satisfied until she'd sunk her needles into the back of his neck and taken a closer look for herself.

But there was no way she was doing that with Starscream in the room.

Docked like this, she had no awareness via her own sensors, and could only 'see' and 'hear' what Megatron's sensors divulged to her. Both their systems automatically meshed into a larger whole, augmenting one another. There was uncertainty on his side -she could feel it in the irregular pulse of his spark- but he was trusting the algorithm's results.

Settling in to work, Fairwinds was content to leave the command staff around her to it.

[Deleted]

Megatron held perfectly still as he adjusted to the queerly familiar pressure of the cassette bodily inserting herself into his systems. It also gave him a moment for the vertigo to pass. Behind him, his Third in Command was watching for any sign that interpreting 'out of post-op' as 'cleared to leave the Medbay' was a stupid move, making it important that he not wince, stagger or otherwise act like he felt.

Opposite him, the other reason not to show weakness was approaching. Commander Starscream, Second in Command, Seeker Elite and Air Commander of Vos had not been summarized as particularly trustworthy. Megatron tightened his field and gave the mech a short nod.

The repair nanites in the gel that had been copiously applied beneath the gauze and his helmet itched ferociously, and was in itself more distracting than the stinging of hardening welds and the general throbbing ache occupying the entirety of his processor. The disorientation was the most unsettling complaint he was experiencing.

Just looking around the room hurt as his processor automatically tried to ascertain his location by checking his memory bank, only to meet literal dead ends and resistance. Soundwave had helpfully informed him that he was in a medical facility on board the Decepticon flagship not long after he'd drawn much the same conclusion.

It was perfectly clear to him that he was in no condition to even argue maintaining his command position like this.

"Starscream," he finally uttered, optics flickering from the intelligent, critical gaze to the obviously recent damage the Seeker had sustained.

The tears and dents weren't recent enough for him to have been involved in the same incident with MECH, but Megatron assumed from his rank and titles that he was no stranger to combat. They were unlikely to be suspicious, and he had no desire to waste energy and time ascertaining when those injuries had come about and how when there were more pressing matters that needed attending.

Fairwinds did something that stopped a relay node somewhere behind his right optic spasming. It was strange to have another mecha so thoroughly in his systems, but he accepted her confident familiarity (and open affection), particularly as it was getting beneficial results already.

Megatron glanced back to Soundwave, who seemed to take this as some unspoken cue to approach. Starscream didn't react, so that must have been normal, he decided.

Starscream continued to watch, analysing with a near-predatory bent to his posture. The warlord automatically stepped in to him, looking down at the smaller mech within grabbing distance. He needed more data.

"Good of you to visit, Commander Starscream," he remarked.

[Deleted]

Commander Starscream!

Starscream stepped back warily when Megatron approached, vast and powerful and distressingly unblemished. Clearly the warlord remembered enough to acknowledge him by his proper title. Or had Soundwave been whispering in his audials the entire time he had laid in recovery, providing him a slow drip of malingering data and malicious lies? Damn that gangly black freak to the Pit anyway!

Fed by what little information his optics could provide, his brain raced. Megatron looked as imposing as ever. And yet something about his manner was... off. The tiniest hitch to a presence that usually radiated iron conviction in every action it made. Starscream had spent eons operating in the shadow of that presence. He knew what it felt like.

And this wasn’t it. Not entirely. Hm.

Time for an experiment.

With a quick vent Starscream quelled his alarm and stood upright, his wings swept back. He raised a fist to his chest and bowed.

“Thank you, Lord Megatron,” he said. “When I was given the report that you were well enough to receive visitors I came immediately. I’m shocked and gratified to discover you restored and fully operational. I had feared for the worst.”

He paused. One wing twitched.

“So, er. How do you feel, Master?”

[Deleted]

Megatron took in the flinching cower, the hesitation, and finally the lordly posture he finally assumed. Starscream's hyperbolic speech grated against his audios, and he wondered if he was trying to appease him or just liked the sound of his own voice. The exaggeration seemed to suit the Seeker, however. Starscream held himself proud and poised, morphing from a supplicating pose that seemed to have been a direct result of his approach.

Interesting, Megatron thought, and strange. However, it dd make some sense of how much his Second in Command could be trusted according to his stand-in algorithm (and of how much he could trust in his own assessment of the mech).

Starscream was mercurial at best, and Soundwave barely moved and spoke even less. How the three of them functioned as a command unit was going to remain a mystery until he got access to his memories back, it seemed.

He gave Starscream's question some thought, determining what would be a safe reply. "Disconnected. A temporary aftereffect of the damage done, Knock Out tells me."

Though the damage was mostly intangible, it was noticeably compromising. At least Knock Out had assured a complete and relatively swift recovery.

Megatron shifted his hands behind his back, assuming a more formal posture as he regarded the Seeker with an openly critical gaze. "I, agree with the doctor that it would be unwise to command the Decepticons without being able to normally contextualize individuals and events."

He waited for an opportunistic smirk, or a shocked expression of dismay at the disclosure. Neither, really, would have surprised him.

[Deleted]

Starscream's optic ticked. He recognised a mine field when he heard one.

He resisted the urge to needle his claws together as he thought frantically over his response. To immediately lay claim to his right as Second in Command to assume control of the Decepticon forces in Megatron’s absence would doubtlessly seem opportunistic. And yet saying nothing could result in Soundwave being placed in command over him, and that would require suicide. No, what was he thinking - homicide.

Starscream hesitated.

“Yes, a logical conclusion,” he said slowly. “Of course I need not tell you, Master, that in the thick of battle rapid command decisions must be made based on immediate access to tactical data gained from previous encounters with one’s opponent. To be denied such experience is to confront an engagement in blindness and ignorance – er, no offence intended, my Lord,“ he added hastily. “I speak only of my concerns, however unfounded they might be. Regardless...”

Drawing himself to his full height, Starscream assumed his most dignified stance. “In the wake of your injury I assumed command over the Nemesis in order to ensure that operational control of your forces did not falter. If you so wish it I will maintain this authority as second in command until you are, er... fully restored. By your leave of course, Lord Megatron.”

[Deleted]

Ambitious little thing, aren't you?

Some pressure in the back of his mind, an electrical niggle that ran down the inside of his arm and pulled his fingers inwards, hinted that it would be normal to throttle or in some way manhandle the Seeker right now. Just to make a point.

Megatron dismissed the thought, and the renewed throb is brought to his already wearing processor-ache.

"Of course," he murmured, and there was a very clear note of skepticism in his tone. Behind him, Soundwave had not moved a micron, which he chose to take as a good sign. At the very least, this troubling individual would be watched.

"I will still require daily reports from both yourself and Soundwave." Megatron glanced to the latter, and then fixed the full weight of his attention back on his grandiose Second. "And there will be no direct assault on our enemies until I am 'fully restored'. Understood?"