Avon Calling - Closed.

[Deleted]

(Takes place after Where the Pavement Ends)

Shockwave would have to take a very close look at the reports of those who had visited or otherwise had contact with the Neutral Base. He knew he couldn't, wouldn't get to experience the whole gamut of whatever defensive measures the place had. For that matter, the likelihood was high that even with the reports he would only have an understanding, however incomplete, of the passive defenses. And that did not cover, of course, those visits to the place that had not been reported at all. But one had to start somewhere.

He remained still and unreadable as the drone in charge of such matters contacted the base and requested groundbridge permission from whoever at the Neutral site attended to such things. Th reason given was to trade and the fairly large containment unit at the scientist's feet was, indeed, full of small self-contained power cells, rare ore ingots and a few sealed units of heavy gases pressurized to liquid status. There was much one could recover from the vastness of the 'Nemesis'' disposal chambers when squeamishness was set aside.

The drone, as he'd been told, offered all information to the other side of the line, as well as adding the specific request that Shockwave would prefer to trade with medical personnel for raw medical and scientific supplies. The brief silence that followed his designation told him volumes.

He was aware the drones in the background were trying, in their own unsubtle fashion, to sneak looks at him. He was unconcerned by such efforts; at the moment he could only had been said to be mindful of the time lost while he was away from his lab.

A reply came at last. Unnecessarily, the drone turned to him. "The groundbridge will be opening momentarily, sir."

Shockwave merely turned to wait for the blossom and light of the 'bridge. He picked up the crate and stepped through with measured, implacable calm, every sense and sensor ready for what there would be to be learned on the other side.

[Deleted]

The vast majority of the Planetary Defense Force had gone to the Autobot faction after their decommissioning and the Exodus. Layby didn't hold close channels with any of his original squad, but he could detect the tang and pulse of soldier/brother/kin in a crowd and, given the opportunity, code-oathed mecha would find each other. In the Neutral settlements and the spattering of DMZs he'd worked through over the centuries, Layby had had many chances to catch up with other soldiers who had been stationed far, far from home. Nothing tactically valuable, of course: gossip mostly. Leadership changes in distant solar systems; how badly blacklisted they currently were with the Galactic Council; names.

Names were important.

Shockwave's name had come up more than once. Cleaver had heard of Senator Shockwave, but nothing of the mech he had become since the abrupt and mysterious end of his political career.

There were multiple theories as to what happened: menticide; madness; frame tourism gone wrong. Whatever had corrupted his empathy pathways beyond recovery didn't matter now.

It was why Layby was hovering in a way he usually didn't when someone was due to arrive at Haven. Cleaver was big enough, strong enough and surly enough to handle herself for the most part. Shockwave, however, was an entirely different pallet of oil, and Layby wasn't prepared to listen from the bar whilst his cohort made trade with the scientist.

"Don' give him any information other than what's available here for trade," he murmured from just behind the helo's right blade. His optics were fixed on the gateway structure that would frame the vortex any moment.

Cleaver exvent and tipped her helm away. "I know. I got this."

"And don' ask him any open questions." Layby adjusted his pedes an inch wider, stabilisers to bear the momentous torque of his engines setting firm. It was a defensive stance. Protective. "Ain't a social visit."

"I got it."

It wasn't a physical threat he was anticipating. That would be straightforward and something he was equipped to deal with. This was more... sinister.

[Deleted]

Cleaver shuttered her optics as Layby's field sent another thick pulse engulfing hers; protective, reassuring, anxious. She cycled another slow vent, hoping he was finished. The groundbridge opened and the medic straightened, waiting.

"In and out. Treat it like bomb disposal."

Her mouth twisted, optics narrowing with a flash. "Layby-"

"I'll be right here if he gives ya a look makes your plates crawl-"

"Frag's sake, Layby," the medic snapped, whirling around so fast that her rotors automatically flared. She pointed to the Medbay with one blade, which comprised half the heavy boom of her alt.mode. "Go sit down before I hurt you."

Layby didn't move save than to show his palms, mouth quirking into a wry, apologetic smile. She lowered the limb, cycling down from the outburst.

"I got it," she repeated, and her voice was tempered with calming assurance. They were in a sanctioned DMZ, Shockwave had abided by every minute protocol the treaty outlined, and it was a straightforward trade taking place. So long as he didn't want anything that could be turned into a weapon of any description, there wouldn't be a problem.

A figure appeared in the vortex. The mech was tall, broad and with a long connective cable slung under one arm. Shockwave's field, frigid on such a level that it just scanned wrong, struck both Neutrals before he'd set foot proper inside the mine.

Rotors bunching for a sparkpulse, Cleaver took two steps forward and looked up to regard the cool optic staring down at her. She could practically hear Layby's hydraulics tense.

"Welcome to Haven, Shockwave. I'm Cleaver, the medic here." She didn't break optic contact, tipping an arm out to indicate what had turned out to be an unsettlingly -large cannon instead. "I trust your weapons systems are powered down, as requested."

[Deleted]

Two mechs were waiting on the other end, so to speak, of the wormhole. The air was cool and humid and a minor analysis on it was immediately started, even as Shockwave focused its attention on the Neutral parties waiting for him.

Cleaver, the medic, seemed to be level enough. One expects such things of medics, which was partly the reason for requesting one as a trading partner. Near her, the second mech was obviously less than thrilled, though whether it was at Shockwave's presence or his business remained to be seen.

"Cleaver." Shockwave knew when a response was expected of him, though he first took the time to do a full threat assessment of his surroundings. The second mech took a few seconds of said assessment, but in the end his attention returned entirely to the medic, and her unsurprising question. He glanced briefly at his cannon. "Inasmuch as it is possible. I have brought a restrain bolt, and will attach it if my own power-down measures are deemed insufficient."

He remained as glacial and calm as he always was; he had made his intentions clear, and unless it became necessary he would wait to learn of Cleaver's intentions as to where and how to proceed with the trade.

[Deleted]

By necessity of their trade, medics were good judges of sincerity. Patients lied, omitted information, played up or played down as it suited them, and a doctor's job was to sift through the slag and see the truth of things. Though Shockwave held himself tightly aloof, Cleaver felt it safe to assume that that wasn't an act or a behaviour triggered by and limited to the DMZ. The scientist's behaviour suited his expressionless helm and towering frame, and it made sense that he would be as direct in his actions as he was with his obviously-unsettling presence.

Openly flicking a scan over the mech (because that wasn't improper behaviour within Neutral territory), Cleaver nodded with a grunt. "Power-down's sufficient." It seemed that his cannon arm did not have an alternate mode, but it was as cool and club-like as her own.

She indicated with a slight gesture to the blue mech behind her. "This is Layby. He acts as security, so don't mind if he stares."

[Deleted]

Layby didn't so much as twitch a tertiary plate at the remark, but his close-comm.s buzzed. ::You really want me ta leave you to it?::

::You left me to it when it's been Knock Out, here.::

Mentally, Layby rolled his optics - an action picked up from Cat and one that he'd found ample use for. ::Either one of us could'a picked him up in one hand by the scruff if needed be. Shockwave's not like many you ever come across.::

::You'd be surprised.::

::Sure I would.::

Cleaver didn't say anything else to that, and Layby didn't press. There were some topics mutually ignored, most of them found by accident.

The silent exchange took 2.6 seconds, a delay that ought not have been unusual to their guest. Layby cycled down audibly and took a demonstrative step to the side.

"Alright, I'll leave y'both to it," he rumbled, then twisted a thumb towards the Medbay. "Crates're in there. Got some other stock tucked away out back, but it's on the inventory. You want any of it fetched, just shout."

More to Cleaver than Shockwave, he added, "I won't be far."

[Deleted]

The medic's appraisal was as apparent as the scan she swept over him. Shockwave had expected both, and more; he would have done as much, and he had nothing to hide. He was running continuous scans on the local atmosphere, but that could have been anything from a preemptive attempt to detect environmental attacks on his person to a surely nefarious and unknown purpose. He saw no reason to stop or to explain himself for it.

He was also in full repair, no weapon powered or detectable. Shockwave had no intention of starting a fight, nor of appearing as a threat; not only would that be counterproductive, it would be wasteful. They would either consider him a threat without the effort, or they would not.

On Cleaver's introduction, the scientist shifted smoothly, the red optic refocusing with utter attention on the now-identified combatant. As scans were not frowned upon in the DMZ, he flicked a surface one over Layby, but did not take the time to analyze it just yet, filing it away with the purely physical information his once-over had provided. In time, he would sit and consider the whole of it; he would have a file on Layby, as he would on any other entity he came into contact with that did not serve his purposes or those of his liege.

For now, just as smoothly, he turned his attention back to the medic. "Such behavior is expected of a security presence." He offered nothing else; he was neither flattered or insulted by the sec-mech's attention, though the same's clear stand-down was all the proof he needed that Cleaver had prevailed in some manner he was unaware of.

He reached to the sizable crate he'd brought with him and removed from a side compartment a very small datapad. "I am, of course, open to hear of any unique offerings you believe would.. pique my interest." He offered the open-ended words as one was expected to do on such situations of barter, and because there was always the possibility that Cleaver could be sitting on a truly valuable piece of... something. "I am interested in a range of simple inorganic compounds, as well as equally simple live organic samples in containment. I have included nothing that can be transformed or used into a weapon." He lowered his head minutely to examine the medic closely. "Nor anything that can be harmed by continued research."

It would have been moot to ask the medic for such things, anyways, but he could foresee no issue on asking for plant and microbial life-form samples, particularly those that were not inimical to the higher levels of sentience of the planet. And it would save him from a certain level of field legwork that he could better use in his lab, working on the very same things the 'Neutrals' thought they could keep him from.

[Deleted]

Cleaver would say that a medic with the luxury of their own ship, traveling alone for a long period of time, would naturally build up a collection of materials that may be useful at some point in the indeterminate future.

Layby would say that Cleaver was a hoarder who'd had access to way too much storage space over the centuries, and had amassed an unholy amount of junk with some useful stuff buried in it.

Then they'd arrived on Earth, which had been a whole new world of stuff.

She'd met Cat in a desert and provided her with bottled water and food - items she herself had no need for, but for which the human had been extremely grateful. That meeting, and how many other items Cat had found a use for from her 'Native Things and Stuff' collection, had affirmed Cleaver's belief that being prepared for the unexpected meant having resources to hand that may have unexpected uses. Just last week she'd temporarily stabilized an interior neural coupling with two of the tiny plastic tripods used in pizza boxes to keep the cardboard from the cheese.

Taking the offered pad, she skimmed through the relatively mundane list. There were some compounds that she had trouble sourcing herself, but there was a lot she had spare. Certain ores from meteorites and shiny planetoids always went down well at trade stations, and she'd made a point to keep them in stock.

Shockwave's interest in items native to Earth had caught her attention, however, particularly after he had emphasized an ethical requirement. She offered a short-wave databurst, sending over a list of items she had in storage within the mine that had never been offered to Knock Out.

It included, but was by no means restricted to: Sea-Monkeys; Trilobite fossils
Deconstructed fireworks; Cathode ray tubes; Wax-sealed wheels of blue cheese; Large bales of wool wrapped in plastic; Twenty-two sets of naturally dropped deer and moose antlers; Fourteen sun-bleached plastic ducks that had reportedly sailed 17,000 miles around the planet; A pallet of liquid teflon; Several industrial humidifiers; Several industrial dehumidifiers; Barrels of coal tar pitch; Forty year's worth of National Geographic and other assorted magazine and journal subscriptions; A small sail boat; Several hundred meters of chicken wire...

"The crustaceans may be of interest to you, as they naturally undergo cryptobiosis. This is all in addition to what Knock Out had access to previously, of course." Cleaver looked over his list again, automatically picking out materials that would be medically useful before taking note of items that were just interesting.


<<OOC: Shockwave can pick out anything you can think of. Cleaver's likely hoarded it. No tag from Layby, so straight to you. =)>>

[Deleted]

Medics, most medics, were hoarders. Shockwave was uncertain as to whether it was hardwired into them or acquired over a lifetime of specific work, but one could conceivably offer a medic some sundry item and it would rarely if ever be refused or discarded.

That being said, Cleaver's collection was somewhat... staggering.

One had to presume she was keeping everything nearby, or an approximation thereof. As much as they liked stockpiling everything and anything, most medics also did not like leaving their property out of their watchful vicinity. It was something to mark, even as Shockwave worked his way through a list he was finding to be exceedingly extensive.

The fossils, and indeed any 'formerly' organic matter preserved in death, such as pressed plants, he immediately tagged as of interest. His own offerings, perforce, were slimmer, but he had meant to provide efficiently, not abundantly. He added a private query to himself, meaning to check later as to what possible purpose the medic would have for a tribal headgear made entirely of feathers, but the feathers, too, covered the reason he'd made the trip and he tacked that onto his lists of interest. A collection of seeds and one of the de-humidifiers also made the list; there was much he could do with the filter from such a unit, even after it were cleaned.

If it was organic and dead, Shockwave wanted it.

He had several dozen or so power cells of his own design, meant to be fully self-contained and capable of powering a vast array of devices on the field under most weather conditions the planet could offer, while leaving behind no energy residue harmful to the native lifeforms. They could not be used as weapons any more than any other power cell - only through user stupidity, and Shockwave could not be held accountable for that.

He also had a good array of the rarer slush and colloidal fluids necessary for mech repairs, bismuth and selenium mainly, in their purest forms and fully shielded as he rather expected the Neutrals to have established links with the local population. In one heavily sealed container he had pressurized tungsten already in its liquid form, and he had a number of sealed tubes carrying emergency surgical gels and foams, easy enough to manufacture when you had access to a particle accelerator, a magnetic isolator and a cold fusion chamber.

The containers were also non-standard - he had made them himself, from discarded materials, layering ceramics and metals to provide better shielding and longer storage time. He'd taken nothing from the Nemesis' storage, and most everything came from her disposal pits. Overall, he'd meant to offer efficiency more than materials in trade, and could only hope Cleaver, while aware of his interest, would ascribe them to motives other than the obvious. Then again, Shockwave had long ago discovered that 'obvious' had a very different meaning for him than it did for most mechs.

"I would be interested in continuous exchanges of similar items as those I have listed." He had every intent of acquiring organic samples; that they were dead was a paltry suggestion he could, and would, correct as needed. He expected Cleaver to understand the implications of his interest, and wondered if the medic would feel it better to provide him with samples she approved of, or leave him to acquire them on his own. "I can, within reason, provide payment equal or similar to what is present here. I did not wish to approach this meeting with a surplus of equipment; it would have been... logical of you to suspect such an approach."

[Deleted]

Cleaver nodded, somewhat distracted by the list of agreeable trade materials, as well as speculating on what else Shockwave might be able to source. The containers themselves were of particular interest. They were clearly of a custom design, and far superior to the battered units she'd been using for centuries.

"Be more than happy with ongoing trade if this works out." Because as valuable as the gains were (for both of them, it seemed), it could still go wrong. So long as they were clear with one another, with no room for misunderstandings on either side, Cleaver saw no reason they couldn't do this as frequently as she had with Knock Out.

She transferred the items from her list that Shockwave had highlighted onto a new file on his datapad, noting her requests from his alongside. At the bottom, she agreed to the exchange with a glyph and thumb-print.

Cleaver held out the pad for his approval and 'signature'. She'd duplicate the record if he found it agreeable.

"Working hands are just as valuable as materials," she added, cupping her hand over the long blade of her un-transformed arm. "The miners left this place in a fair state, but for the work we've done it's still a mine. If your staff is agreeable to some structural and decorating work, I'd be happy to pay them as well as yourself."

Most grunts that she'd encountered would happily decontaminate a dozen trays of equipment in exchange for a professional tune-up and a cube of High Grade.

[Deleted]

Tone, speech patterns and behavior all seemed to indicate that the medic had a favorable impression of either him, or his trading interest. The first would be foolish, the latter unsurprising; he'd been well aware that he was coming in from a position of trading inferiority, and likely heralded by his reputation, and both factors had weighted heavily on his choice of trading supplies.

He accepted the pad and with usual ease held and imprinted it, offering it back.

Cleaver's mildly-placed inquiry, however, refocused his full attention on the medic. So. There was either no time, no mech-power, or no interest in further working upon their site. The first and the latter were unlikely: mechs are creatures of habit, and it is habit to improve upon one's surroundings, if only for efficiency's sake. Something impinging so badly on the time of the 'Neutrals' would also have been noted and, possibly, weighted for use by the more military-minded staff of the "Nemesis".

Which left the middle point. Interesting.

"I have no abundance of staff under my command." He knew most of the stories going around regarding him acknowledged his lack of direct underlings. Underlings were... careless. And illogical at the worst possible times. It was better to limit oneself to casual proxies. For a prime example, at best he did not care what engaged Knock Out's time and interest, and at worst he'd be forced to oversee the mech in person; he was perfectly alright with giving the medic the space he'd always had.

Through his mind ran an immediate search on human-made machinery, and the possibility of retro-fitting it to work under such management and conditions as Cleaver may require. Remote-controlled, pre-programmed routines to smooth out tunnels and create hypocaust and geothermal vents would be exceedingly simple, and easy to improve upon... one of many, many improvements that could be made to such equipment.

"I am, however, capable of providing machinery that will accomplish basic architectural refining with minimal overseeing, in exchange for further organic samples. If such is a consideration."

[Deleted]

"I appreciate the offer. I'll keep it in mind," Cleaver replied, largely unsurprised that Shockwave had missed the point.

Neither she or Layby had ever lived in a DMZ in such a rudimentary state, but both had seen the positive impacts that putting work into a place had on its visitors as well as its occupants. Mecha were less likely to trash a place where they'd helped repair the equipment, built the furniture and exchanged their time and effort for something they valued as equal. Haven was functional but it was far from homely, and Cleaver hoped that involving mecha in small areas from the ground up would go some way to ensuring the peace that Optimus Prime and Megatron had agreed to.

She signed off on the trade and subspaced the pad. A long, blunt arm motioned to the prepared crates. "The organic items aren't here. Didn't think you'd be interested in them, so they've not been in any inventory I've shared with Knock Out. I can have them sent over later on today, or we can collect them now."

[Deleted]

Shockwave listened, not so much to the medic's answers as to the way in which she delivered the words, the subtle nuances. There was nothing so far to indicate a trap; while Cleaver was not entirely pleased, she was pleased enough.

The reasons for his safety were critical, of course. He had not expected any guarantee for it, after all, but again, it would be information he would have to process when less input was being acquired.

Cleaver's invitation, however, was too good an opportunity to pass up. Every bit of knowledge that could be acquired about the base and its inhabitants was knowledge that should be acquired, particularly when it was so promptly offered. "It would be more efficient to acquire the samples while I am here." He shifted to attention, waiting for Cleaver to lead the way.

[Deleted]

Cleaver, however, did not move towards the storage tunnels. Only the permanent inhabitants of Haven had access to its entirety. The public areas were open to all (who behaved appropriately, in particular the bar and the medbay), but the storage chambers, living quarters and machinery that kept air, energon and water circulating were off-limits.

Neutrals were often marked as idealistic, overly trusting in the hopes that their earnestness would inspire trust in return. This was an idiotic notion. Neutrals did not want to engage in the war; they weren't blind to it and ignorant of the consequences of their civilian choices.

Instead, the helo turned to the pallets already laid out and began taking lids off for Shockwave's visual inspection. He could quite easily scan to ensure that the contents of the containers were what she claimed, but it was a means to keep his attention semi-occupied.

It was no surprise when Layby lumbered back out into the Atrium and across to them. Cleaver shortwaved the location and numbers of the crates required, then returned her attention to Shockwave.

"Must admit that I'm surprised organic matter is permitted on the Nemesis," she remarked, listening to Layby's pedefalls fade down the tunnel she was blocking. "The risk of contaminants is high when the sterilising procedures will destroy in the process."

[Deleted]

When the Neutral medic made no move to further Shockwave's knowledge of her's base's layout or setup, the scientist was unsurprised. If there was any further emotional response to it, nothing registered on the glacial stillness of his field, and his expression was certainly not one to give away any sort of inkling as to his thoughts.

His optic followed the reappearing security mech briefly until Cleaver moved towards the containers, and he followed her to inspect the crates and containers being opened for his perusal, listening to her casual remark and well aware he was being given busywork. It did not matter; that he wasn't looking at something didn't mean his attention was not on it. "I will enact my own containment protocols as the items arrive on board the warship. Contamination will not be allowed to be an issue." He would have rather incinerated the specimens on the spot before allowing such a risk, or even the potential of a risk, to reach the warship. His liege had made the importance of the vessel amply obvious.

In truth, Shockwave was already beginning to grasp the nuances of interaction between the planet's over-packed environment and the Nemesis. If there was any urgency within those interactions, it was not the organic factor, but the inorganic that fueled it. Corrosion, humidity, weather, pressure - these were all variables that were proving far more troublesome than any of the four-component organisms the planet could provide, alive or dead.

Besides, if sterilization did destroy the entities, then they were not what he was looking for.

He sealed the containers himself as he glanced over the contents to verify the accuracy of the listings and the immediate lack of explosives or traps, moving those he'd traded for to the crate he'd carried with him while setting aside the containers he would be leaving with the Neutral medic. He had not come to socialize, but to acquire information and goods. If the first one was to be further denied any progress and the latter was all but done, his reason for remaining away from his lab was quickly dwindling. "Does your prohibition upon weapons or weapon-grade materials extend to purely defensive goods and materials?"