Ep 2 - This Is Short and It Will Pass (Doc Knock)

[Feldspar]

"Good enough reason for me, personally," the medic replied with a grin and a wave of one glossy hand. His red optics flashed with humor. Behind his shoulders, his tires spun slightly, the flashy spokes catching the light. In the blue-white illumination of the repair bay, his finish was so sleek and polished it reflected purple. He swung the system hookup over her, and a moment later he was reaching for her wrist; clinical and efficient, beginning to hook her up to the diagnostic cables that snaked out of the wall.

They moved on their own, settling lightly onto the right places; shoulder, the inside of her arm, those places where once set inward, they would mesh with her own self-diagnostics. Who knew if they were hooked up to a gesture, a sub-system command of the medic. The mech moved around her with precision; his flirtatious behavior nudged aside for a moment as he made sure things were set correctly. In this, he was all business, medical professional.

Even as the main diagnostics were settling into place, he'd pulled out a few tools from the neat workbench. Deftly, he turned them in his fingers and settled them down beside her; a slender tweezer-like thing with a blunt tip, a tiny oh so delicate pry-tool and then finally a pair of snips. Next to that he soon placed a container; the only thing that was out of place in the medical bay- a shallow cup of sorts. Specimen cup, best bet. He popped off the lid and set it aside and then reached for his handheld tool.

He ran it up her arm, stopping near the joint as it pinged on something that should not have been there. A moment later he'd set it down and reached for the tools, going to lift her arm lightly into his hand for support if she'd let him.

"A proximity sensor wouldn't surprise me," he agreed conversationally. "Set for someone to find, of course, they're easy to program and leave for a while- they don't need a big power drain. Yes, it does. Certainly wasn't MECH, not in my opinion. If they'd left you a sensor that apparently knocked you off line, you'd probably not be here right now. You know that already though, more than most. You don't think it was personally set for you? Who all knew you were going to be there? Anyone? So all right, what were you doing in the Academy of all places. Not somewhere you probably ever toured - ah, wait, how did you know what it was?"

A pause. "Now, if I must be obvious, I'm attempting to give you something else to think about while I pull these out. Fair enough?"

[Deleted]

His attempts to distract her were appreciated but were actually making her over tired mind stall like a train off its tracks. Her last rest cycle had been...actually, she wasn't sure about that. Possibly the day before. She'd been trying to catch up on reports for Shockwave before her "break" so she'd putting in a little more effort than normal. And this was her reward.

"Yeah...I got that. It's not necessary though, Knockout. I'm ok." She didn't have the spark to actually smile to back those words up. She was ok, as far as she was concerned. But she was too damned weary to be chipper about being in a medbay getting things pulled out of her at the moment.

She was always just ok. It was a good medium to be. Neither great or nor bad. Ok was...it was better than what she could be. Staring at the floor, she let him manipulate her how he wanted. Every procedure was relatively rote by now and she was like a doll in his care. The only time she got hostile was when Shockwave got a notion but he'd, more often than not, just surprise her from behind or get her when her guard was down. Having someone actually care about her comfort level was a novelty.

"There was an Autobot there. Said a bunch of crazy slag to me." She shrugged, gaze sort of settling on the floor. "It's in the report. Probably makes more sense than I do right now."

[Feldspar]

The mech drew back slightly and inclined his head. His optics narrowed, but only slightly, as if in thought.

"All right then," he replied with a wave of his hand, as if he was gathering up her comment.

There was silence from the red mech as he flicked an access plate open on her upper arm. The tiny tweezers didn't so much as brush a cable as he deftly maneuvered the tip underneath through the lines. That tracking device was buried, well hidden, well-placed to be completely avoided in a casual pass. It was a challenge, but one the medic found oddly interesting.

He moved his other hand over, and angled the slender end of the pry-tool into it. There was a slight hiss- not heat, but extreme cold to crack the drop of weld. He snapped down on it with the tweezers; a tiny twist, a flick. Seconds later he dropped it into the cup.

Clink.

Onto the next, and then another.

"Sooooo, an Autobot?" he asked, and then thought about it for a moment. His first impulse was to think - oh, you weren't drunk, were you? Oh Vehicon gossip, how you wandered around this base sometimes, haha. Drunk and hanging off of an Autobot didn't sound half bad though. Well it would have to be the right Autobot, of course. If you were going to make a grab at a fine chassis, it might as well make it worth it. I do so love a flashy sports car.

Then again I have to say, that the semi himself is certainly...

"Interesting," he said suddenly, and tossed another tiny device into his cup. It rattled.

"I'm sure the report will cross my desk sooner or later, I'll take a look at that when it decides to grace my presence down in the repair bay."

[Deleted]

She could read the tone that was just shy of being coy. Roulette had a clear idea of what the Vehicons and the ship at large thought of her reputation. Far from being upset by the gossip, she was a bit amused that everyone thought her life was more exciting than it actually was. At least someone was having fun at her expense.

"I have a good report with Autobots. Sometimes." She managed a small grin. She'd had quite a few run ins with the other side on this planet. Not all of them had been very fun but she was still alive so she couldn't grumble too much. That was the best one could say about a skirmish with the enemy: no one died.

"Used to fly their colors," she lowly murmured, gently steering the conversation away from the confusing encounter. She'd rather drag up old memories and past lives than the last day that still rubbed raw on her mind and body.

[Feldspar]

"Did you now?" he asked, moving the cup to the other side so he could continue pulling out the little trackers. Part of him assumed Shockwave would notice this sooner or later. He couldn't help it, he shook the container a few times. No doubt these things were sending back signals even now, they probably had one fail-safe after another. A faint grin drifted across his features. If they were really advanced, they'd be set to each location point. So now her arm was under her leg.

Either she was into stretching exercises or she'd exploded.

Which no doubt would be a reason for the scientist to get back all the pieces. Field test of stress points. Not actually a bad idea he thought, as he mulled it over a bit.

It struck him then that if it was him, he'd take the entire cup, weight it, and drop it into some ocean somewhere. Then he'd spend the next week or so cheerfully street racing any and all. Hey, you only lived once, might as well live it up.

"I didn't realize that," Knock Out mentioned. "I suppose it's probably buried in your files but frankly, has nothing to do with what is fixable and not on a body, so..."

"A good rapport, sometimes? Better be careful saying that around some but between us, mmm hmmmmm. They do have some flashy alt-modes, don't they?"

The medic grinned. "See," he said. "You understand. Cars with big engines, high speed, perfectly buffed and waxed plating-- mmmm, very nice, if I do say so myself. Not that I don't enjoy a good flier either - but there's something about being down on the ground and hurtling full speed. You have to know what you're doing down there. Not many curves to miss up in the air and go flipping off into a ditch."

He eyed her for a second. "So, when did you get some sense and decide to join the winning team?"

[Deleted]

Knockout surprised a small laugh out of her. She hadn't expected the doc to have a...well, a thing for Bots. Even if it was their flashy alts. The prejudice between the two factions was legendary. One could say the entire war hinged on the never-ending hate cycle. And it was mutual on both sides, not just the "bad one."

"I never was a fan of flyers, either. Their heads are always up in the clouds." Though, ironically, it rankled her that a blanket concept could be wrapped around an entire class. Not all fliers. Not all grounders. It was just that every flier she'd ever met had the same nature to them. There was something wild about them, deep down in their spark. Was it the presumed freedom from the ground that did that?

The shift in topic was not painful but it did pull the smile from her mouth. Why had she joined? Why, indeed. There was no satisfactory answer for it. Desperation hadn't really been a motivating factor. And she wasn't in love with the cause that most Cons took to spark. She'd just...been unlucky.

"Ah, now that's a good question. I guess a long series of bad choices led me to where I am. That sounds so awful but..." She twitched one shoulder in a shrug.

[Feldspar]

"Yeah, most of them tend to be- how shall I put it-" the medic replied, dropping another tiny tracker in his cup. "Rather stuck on the fact they can fly." He chortled to himself and eyed her. "As if that's hard to do, anyone can fly, it's just the landing part that's sort of a difficult proposition without wings. Not interested in that."

The cup rattled as he bumped it with the edge of his hand. There were a lot of them in there. Enough now that the bottom was covered in tiny transmitters.

"Well it doesn't sound awful," he offered, raising a hand. "It sounds like how most things sort of go around here. Make a bad choice, you're in charge of something unpleasant around here."

He eyed the repair bay and then shrugged. "Long series is sometimes what it is," he agreed. "So what all happened? Short version is fine. I don't think I'll be at this too much longer. At least I hope not. He did have you rather rigged up, though..."

[Deleted]

"Yeah...he's good at that." Keeping her gaze focused on his hands, she fiddled with the notion of just spilling her history. What did she have to lose? It was probably in a file on her, somewhere. Though, that begged the question of what kind of files there were on anyone here. Maybe she could bribe someone into letting her take a little peek...

"Ah, you know. Bad timing all round. Got myself into a situation where the only option for survival was joining Shockwave's science team. Or enduring the science team." She lifted a hand and fanned her fingers out, palm upward. "Figured living was better than dying no matter which side I was on."

The thought still held a strange place in her spark. Had she made the right decision? Was there a right or wrong decision? Perhaps she should have just put one of the barrels to her head and joined her sister in the well. But checking out seemed so cheap and almost insulting to her sister.

[Feldspar]

The medic's fingers lifted plating here and there. He snapped out a section behind her shoulder with a deft thumb and she would hear another tracker rattling around with the others in the holder.

Knock Out wouldn't bring it up, but he was rather impressed. First of all, for the sheer amount of them. Second of all, that they'd never been noticed before now. Well, not like he'd been hunting for them the first time, not really on his mind while working in the repair bay. In a way he rather suspected that she wasn't the first one of the crew to have them, nor would she be the last. A faint sense of distaste roiled through him on some level. Oh not that he could appreciate why you'd put them on someone you wanted to follow, but that it kind of gave him a slight crawl up his relays as if he was dealing with metal-mites or something equally unpleasant.

"Rather be working for Science than donating my insides to it," he agreed, as he craned his neck around to peer at her for a second before shutting that panel and opening a different one. "I mean, as long as you're living, it means you still have a chance out there, I suppose. Dying- that's it, it's rather a final end, nothing else you can do for the rest of eternity. No way out of that one into a better existence."

A pause. "Well, besides being recycled into something useful to prop up a door," he chuckled.

"Besides, you've got a better chance of living on this side of the war," he told her. "Not down dug into wherever the Autobots are, hoping for whatever they hope for."

A lift of his shoulder. "What about asking to be moved off the science team if you aren't feeling it's working out. I'm sure-- ah, someone, miiiight be willing to shuffle you around a bit, right?"

[Deleted]

"I imagine the Autobots are hoping for the same thing we do." She considered the medic for a quiet moment. "...well, perhaps a little less of what you're hoping for," she amended with a sardonic grin.

Gossip on the ship swirled about the medic. No more than it did her, but she knew her half of the story and the truth rooted in the outlandish tales. But the medic? She knew little about the flashy mech. For all she knew every solid word about him was true. Down to the more brow raising tales of debauchery. Though she didn't think Megatron would let too much happen on his time. He was a bit of a downer like that.

Sigh. Life on a warship.

"When I first transferred to this ship, I thought I was free of Shockwave. And I didn't know what to do with myself. It was...oddly liberating." Boring, but liberating. She'd been a big nobody and had loved every mind-numbing moment of it. How long that had lasted. "And now he's here and I'm stuck right back in the same rut I was in."

She didn't mean to sound so bitter at the end there. But the pattern she had escaped was forcing itself on her again. Where could she go to get away from him? Judging by the amount of tracking devices he'd crammed into her frame, nowhere was exactly free. He'd track her down eventually. When he needed her.

"Besides...there isn't another proxy here that knows his patterns. I like to imagine that in some dinky lab on some outpost, he has some nerd feverishly working his life away. When he could be here taking my place and cutting me some slack."

[Feldspar]

"Heh," Knock Out replied. He brought up his fingers to touch lightly to his chest in a rather theatrical gesture. "Like the Autobots, I suppose my hopes and dreams get dashed on a regular basis. Though, like they say, there's always a new gorgeous chassis around every corner..."

He winked at her. "Mine for starters, but that's a given."

The mech brushed bit of imaginary dirt off of his chest and then settled back to listen. The easy grin that had curled the corner of his lips slowly smoothed as he listened to her.

"Isn't that the way it goes?" he asked her after she'd finished speaking. He lifted a browridge and inclined his head slightly. "You think ah there you go, restart it all over, you're somewhere new..."

He eyed the medbay around them. "Before you realize that it's just same recycled things in a different environment. Lovely!"

"Your situation wins though, for utterly difficult," he sympathized. "Sounds like you've figured out the loophole though. If you're not content, there's always the option of ahhhh... hmm, how do I say this - finding him a better proxy, and quietly getting yourself assigned to some other place in the star system. It's possible, I would think. I mean, I suppose the thing to do is appeal to his sense of practicality, if you were seriously considering it."

"I mean frankly, I don't care about that .001 percent more output, but some mechs do," he mentioned. "And who knows, maybe that mech is sitting there in his dinky lab, wishing for your job and sighing into his drinks every night. Win win, for both of you?"

[Deleted]

This interplay was bringing a whole new light to the mech that Roulette wouldn't have thought possible. She had always figured Knockout to be....well, Knockout. If vanity had an image, it would be him. Everything she'd seen about him suggested a narcissistic personality. And he was. But there was apparently something of substance under the glossy exterior. A hollow mech didn't dream.

"What dreams did you lose, doc?" She was probably overstepping bounds. The exam room wasn't really the best location for a spark to spark on crushed hopes. But when else would she get the chance to ply the medic for answers?

They weren't exactly drinking buddies. Which was a good call on the ship's part. Else, the femme was sure, nothing would get done between the two of them. There was probably a bi-log that prevented two like types from cavorting with one another in downtime. That would just be like Megatron to have a tedious rule unwritten on the very thing.