Ep.2 - The arrival (Closed, Flatline)

[Deleted]

Week 3 - Day 1.

The void of the space. Absolute silence. Not even the engines of old modeled decepticon shuttle were heard. Piece of junk, scrapmetal, only the few nicknames someones might call it. Yet, it had made long way through space, raiding autobot bases all around the universe, as it's well punished hull accused. It would not be long until this ship would be turned into scrapmetal. All it had left, was to deliver it's only passenger to her destination.

Inside of the ship was just as quiet as the outside, the only difference was the beeping of the computer, which was monitoring the vitals of the passenger. Laying in stasis on her pilot seat, likewise punished looking decepticon warrior couldn't know about her travel's incoming end, fastened onto the seat. As the ship passed the moon, the computer began to run commands on it's main screen.

-Approaching destination, prepare to execute:
Order 1/2: Undo the stasis. [Waiting]
Order 2/2: Contact decepticon mothership. [Waiting]

The computer had lead the ship towards it's destination for years now, the exact time would be stored inside it's memory. Though, it would not matter a bit, as long as the ship would just get to it's destination. The computer had taken ship through solar storms and asteroid fields successfully. Still it was a computer, and one failure would be, what computer would need.

-Warning, unidentified object approaching. Commencing evasive manouvers.

Almost immediatedly after that a loud crashing sound was heard, and beeping alarm and flashing red light lighted the cockpit. The computer was second too late, and small meteor hit the hull. The impact shook the whole ship, forcing it to turn little bit.

-Evasive manouvers failed. Returning back to course. Running damage check.

Ship took it's course again, heading towards the earth, like it was supposed to.

-Damage report:
Navigation system. [damaged]
Landing system. [destroyed]
Communication system. [destroyed]

Failed to execute commands:
Order 1/2: Undo the stasis. [Failed]
Order 2/2: Contact decepticon mothership. [Failed]

With those damages, it was a miracle ship was able to return back to it's course, it was still tougher than it looked like. Still, it was obvious that it would be crash landing.
The ship arrived to the earth's atmosphere, friction causing it's hull to heat a lot, yet it still held, like it was supposed to.
Ship's computer gave one last warning, about incoming crash, and activated the emergency rockets to slow down the crashing speed even for a little bit.

The ship was coming down, no matter the slowing effect of the rockets, it was still coming down in a great speed. Ural mountains, that's where it was falling. Hitting mountain wall indirectly, ship kept sliding along the wall, all the way down to the small valley.

Finally stopping, ship had came to the end of it's travels. The hull was smoking, the crash had torn it from every side. The cockpit was halfway buried inside ground. As most of the electronics gave away, the warrior still laying on pilot's seat, was unfastened, as the computer was still directing the energy to keep her in stasis. It wouldn't take too long however, before the remaining power would run dry.
The last thing computer was able to do, was to send emergency signal on decepticon frequency.

[Flatline]

These last few days were... interesting...

Sure, that would be a way to describe it.

Interesting and a little bit of surreal thrown in to smooth it all out.

The announcement of the truce had caused a lot of chaos in an otherwise normal ship, and despite it being a few days it wasn't going to settle down anytime soon. Vehicons and Eradicons were gossiping and chattering about what had happened, and many were comparing notes on things they found out. A few were even starting a couple betting pools, some for how long it would last, and others for what sort of horrible things would happen in the meantime. Roulette also seemed to be off in some way, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Alas, Flatline had no interest in such things and moved on, having got a directive to 'pay it forward' assigned to him.

When the medic gone upgrades-mechanic had arrived on earth, he had been greeted by a pair of Decepticons and brought into the fold so to speak. The action had helped him a great deal to get where he was these days, and he had to now extend such a courtesy to a newcomer, or just... rip apart and salvage some of the more delicate components of the ship before the vehicons would swoop in and rip it asunder for scrap.

A thin hoof like ped planted down solidly outside of the space bridge, the sharp edges grinding down into rock to get a firm holding as Flatline exited the vortex and stared ahead at the distant mass of debris and rubble. Broad shoulders were sloped down to either side, flowing into long arms that gingerly looped upon his lower back despite his rather notable hunch. He did not move for some time, a sharp black outline that clashed violently with the moss-brushed browns and grays of the stony earth that held him at a higher elevation.

He was not too keen to just approach quickly, for the structure of the ship had been greatly compromised and in any moment it could rupture with whatever fuel it had left. He looked pointedly for fires, red optics flicking across its surface for bits of orange or blue, but he could not see any externally, nor in the torn gouges in the hull that exposed its inner workings that longed to spill out. What he could see however was the smoldering smoke that choked out into the sky, blotting out the immediate area in a thick fog like haze.

Sharp spines of armor that ran down his back flicked slightly in response as a breeze slipped by, and he finally decided he had dallied enough. If there was going to be an immediate inferno, it probably would have already happened, and as such he needed to check for a survivor or two. Besides... if there was a death, maybe he could salvage some parts for his own work and hoard them off to the side. He would either get supplies, or help a newcomer, win win as far as he was concerned.

Rolling his weight forward, he began the decent down towards the ground level where the ship had gored into the ravine. For once the slim peds of his feet were finding good traction on an earth environment, and clung well to the rocky surface of the steep slope that other Cybertronian may have had to slide down. His balance aided in this endeavor, and in no time he was upon the scene and pulling upon the front hatch that was half mangled already.

The received damage to the hatch, meant that even Flatline, who was not really a strong individual in any way shape or form, could pull it aside enough to create a small opening. He was not about to bother wrestling the path completely open so he could walk through ((Because forget putting in that much physical labor)) and as such Flatline leap up and scrabbled momentarily upon the bent steel before the magnets within his limbs powered on with a crackle of electricity. This permitted him to grip the crinkled and smooth patches of metal, and he crawled up and positioned himself to be partly upon the shuttle's roof.

Cautiously, not about to climb into the small spacecraft without knowing what he was in for, Flatline dipped forward so that his helm would hang upside down to peek into the hole he had made. He curiously looked about, waiting for his optics to adjust to the darkness so he could try to peer through the smoke.

[Deleted]

The ship's power was running low quickly. And as the power was running out, the stasis was also going to end in a while. The energon wasn't leaking anywhere, yet, and the heat of the friction in the atmosphere, and the sliding along the rocky hill were the causes of the smoking of the hull. Considering that, the passenger was safe, for now.

The first signs of stasis coming to an end began to come up. The frame of the large cybertronian twitched a little bit, yet her conciousness was yet to awake.
The memories of her long travel, past battles. She saw them again and again in her 'sleep'. Yet, now her consiousness began to return into the present. The beeping sound of an electrical failure, marking the end of stasis. She was hearing it first her audio receivers picked only low beeping, which got louder time to time. Femme's head was resting against her massive shoulder, but slowly it rolled to the other side, bumping into the other shoulder, before falling against her chest.
That was, before she rose her head slowly. The one remaining optic opened, revealing it's crimson glow. Armadura had awaken.

She felt stiff, as she tried to move her arm. She succeeded, yet Arma was wondering, how long had she actually been in stasis. Much longer than she had ever anticipated, that's for sure. The first sight she was given from her ship's cockpit was... surprising. There was some smoke around, some cut cables which were sparking around, with the last bits of power ship was having. Crashlanding, well, she hadn't expected that. She had been able to trust the computer for decades, before it had failed her this first time. The thing was, she could've been anywhere, but was she even close to the location the signal had been leading her to.

Arma forced herself up from the pilot's seat, forced to lean on the control panel in front of her. She was so stiff. Her joints felt like they were in rust, even though it wasn't the case. The stasis had tend her worst injuries somehow, yet her field of vision told her, that her right optic was done for. Second try, she was now able to stand on her own two feet. Standing correctly, it was obvious this ship wasn't designed to house such a large con like her.
The power was running really low, the computer wasn't telling her anything anymore. Not about her whereabouts, about her travel, nothing. Arma realized there wasn't much to salvage, she should get out, and try to pinpoint her location somehow. First of all, she grabbed the surface of the control panel with her talonlike fingers, tearing the panel off easily. Like without noticing, her strenght was returning to her.

She grabbed the computer's main memory chip, subspacing it. If she would be able to meet up with the decepticons, this chip would prove her mission being complete, she should not lose it.

Then her sensors picked something. Sounds and movement outside the ship. The sound of bending metal, someone was trying to get in. Then it ceased. She was not in her best shape right now, meaning she shouldn't rush too much, not until she had to. She should proceed with caution, even though it was not her style. Besides, if she would try to use her oversized weapons inside the ship, it would only result Arma embarrasing herself. Besides, firing ion cannon inside damaged ship might be the last thing she would ever do.

Smoke, darkness, and only one optic, it was such a slaggy combination. She wasn't able to see clearly enough, but there clearly wasn't anyone inside the ship besides her. Arma wasn't quite sure, but where the ship's hatch was, was she able to spot a pair of optics. "Someone there? Identify yourself." Not even sure if she was seeing a cybertronian, or if this someone would even understand her, she still... actually gave an order.

[Flatline]

Flatline was perched on the top edge of the doorway, suspended by the magnets nestled within his peds and hands. It left him protected by the top mass of the ship if something were to go wrong, and it offered him an escape. If needed he could pull himself backwards, and charge up and over the shuttle to the other side, an act that could be a bit clumsy and slow down a typical grounder. They would have to likely run around, and he'd have a good head start by then. He felt... safe because of this, looking into the smoke and listening intently for anything out of line.

He could hear movement, something that was more than the shuffling shifts of the craft settling into place. This meant that something or someone was alive in there, but in what state remained a question. This however made nagging peep up in the back of his processor, hissing soft whispers that someone could be hurt or bleeding out within the confines of the dark vessel. His ingrained impulse to help one who could be on his side was strong, but... that was the big question.

WAS this one of theirs?

The shuttle was of Decepticon origin, but he had already heard the rumors about the Nemesis that one of the Autobots had commandeered one of their escape pods to try to get to earth. This meant that there was a very real chance this could be a repeat offense, and this very shuttle could even be from the same ship that had sourced the other Cybertronian. There was no way to know from the container alone, and he had to see the individual in question.

Arma may have been able to view through the sifting smoke for a moment, the opening in the hull letting in a sharp contrasting white light source that sheared through the darkness a short distance. It was within this outline of the opening, that a helm leaning upside down to peer back could be gleamed. The contrast of light and shadow made features and even color unable to be discerned, and if it had remained still there is a chance it could have been mistaken for rubble. This shape was only there for a flicker of a moment, before it pulled back and away wordlessly, not speaking in return.

Flatline cautiously drummed the slender fingers of his right hand down upon the doorways frame in thought. The action was soft, quiet, the ticking noise it created able to mesh within the sounds of settling electronics well enough, and if heard would be near a trick of the mind. He had to consider the situation and the risks to himself with this. The form of the person he thought he saw within, appeared to be very large.

Quietly, the medic reminded himself that he could easily contact Skywarp if things did go out of hand and this hulking Femme was an Autobot. All he would need to do is send the coordinates of his current location, and shriek 'Autobot Golf' or 'Murder Time' or other comment that pandered to the jets idiocy and bloodlust. With this in mind, he finally decided to speak.

"Transfer identification codes to verify allegiance."

The voice was of lower tones, a sort of hiss that snarled out partly in defense with an authoritative edge. Flatline made sure to neglect mentioning his own rank and position in the war, so that if it was an Autobot they couldn't lie to try to make sure they were safe. The last thing he needed was assurances it was one of their own, only to be throttled and slammed to the ground by some burly as frag Autobot glitch.

[Deleted]

Ship's hull was too thick, and there was too much disturbance in the air, so that Arma could've pinpointed anything from the outside. Even the drumming against the hull was unheard, as the only crimson optic was staring into the smoke, where she had thought she had seen the fade light.

"Transfer identification codes to verify allegiance." The tone made Arma tilt her head a little bit. So, it appeared she was actually facing an cybertronian at least. The tone she received, was quite authoritative.

"Transferring: Decepticon 2nd army, 1st division, Armadura." The large femme stated, more formally now. She couldn't know, this one could've been a scout, who was sent to identify the traveler, and the whole ship might've been surrounded, by either autobots or decepticons. Cockpit was too well buried, she couldn't see anything. She had to take the risk anyway.

[Flatline]

Flatline quickly grasped onto the relayed codes, and instantly threw them back to the Nemesis to be verified. He wasn't even going to try to bother to do it on his own, since he had been in stasis himself for a vast majority of the war's function and despite efforts was still a bit behind the times. He was so far out of date that chances are he would misread any current tweaks in the parameters and declare someone safe or dangerous when it was the opposite of such. Luckily, it did not take long to get a reply, and a big confirmation that yes, this was a Decepticon, and that yes he was safe to assist.

The idea that this was one of their own was a huge relief to Flatline, and he instantly relaxed, casting aside the worry about his helm being blasted clean off his shoulders so that he felt a bit better about showing himself to one who was so much larger than him. This information meant that he could now focus not on verification, but on tending to any injuries that may have occurred during the fall through orbit. Even if they were not injured directly, if they had been in stasis long term there would be some things to check.

Arching forward again, Flatline fanned his hands out at the edge of the opening, before the magnets in his back legs disengaged entirely to let his peds peel free from the smooth surface. This action permitted him to arch forward into a sort of controlled flip, being sure to snake his legs down and through the opening the moment that they were lined up properly. One quick motion later, and he was within the shuttle.

Arma, if able to see through the smoke, would be able to lay witness to this. The dark shape of the mech dropped fully into the cramped confines to land upon all fours with a thump. It remained hunched momentarily, what appeared to be armaments upon its shoulders whiring and clicking as they settled into potion before a disjointedly disproportioned frame arched up into the air to try to form a proper stand despite the sloped flooring below. It was once the figure stood, it turned, red optics piercing through the shadows to look to the femme cautiously.

"Flatline. Medic, Commander Shockwave's Proxy."

There was a swell of pride in getting to say that bit about Shockwave. Even if his tasks under the cyclops scientist were not the most glamorous, the title was still grand in his mind and he would throw it around so long as it served him. It had to have some weight to it, right? To be working under a commander to the Decepticon cause who reported directly to their Lord?

"Are you injured in any way? Can you relocate out of the shuttle?"

While he spoke the inquiries, he began to stride forward while raking a critical gaze over what he could discern. If he were to get close, he would try to usher the behemoth of a Femme out into the open. While smoke didn’t hurt their kind like it did pathetic organics, it could cause agitation and buildup in vents that were not the best and he wished to avoid it. The better lighting could also help him assist if it was needed.

[Deleted]

Arma was prepared, pretty much for anything, even if fighting inside narrow space of the shuttle would've been hard task. If the other one would reveal himself as an autobot, she would not have other option but to fight. Still, even with the codes she had given, other one didn't do a thing to attack her. This gave a reason to assume, that he was confirming the data. Autobot surely would've not bothered with something like that, as she had stated her faction to be Decepticon.

He released himself from the hull, and in few quick and smooth motions, was inside the shuttle. It was difficult to see through smoke, yet that much Arma's optic was able to tell her. She still couldn't be fully certain about him, which for her stance changed a bit, as if she was prepared for possible incoming attack. Her weapons were useless in this narrow space, yet her spiked knuckles were just as devastating while landing a blow with them, than any other weapon.

Then, she received confirmation. Arma had been tend by so many medics during the battles of cybertron, that she never had bothered memorizing their names, and Flatline's didn't ring any bells. It still could've been a trap, but somehow using commander Shockwave's name didn't fit in that scenario. Arma lowered her prepared stance, while peering through the smoke with her remaining optic.

New questions, about her possible injuries, and could she exit the shuttle. She ran quick check through her system. Though, if there would be more serious damages, they would've been noticed already. That's what she thought anyway. "Minor injuries, i can relocate from the shuttle."
That said, she began to move through the smoke, still prepared for anything, like a warrior was supposed to.

Stepping outside of her shuttle, leaning against the hull with her hand, Arma straightened herself. Even her guard dropped for an moment, as she gazed through the landscape before her. Mountains covered in snow, glowing in the sunlight. Arma couldn't but admire the mighty sight she was witnessing.
The moment of silence, before she turned to face Flatline. The medics usually weren't the largest ones, as their servos had to be precise enough for precise working. Flatline was by his frame, what Arma would've expected from the decepticon medic.

[Flatline]

This femme was large, and seeing her approach out from the abyss of smoke and shadows revealed to him just how large she was. The sight caused the much smaller medic to take a cautious step backwards, to press his spine against the corridor wall cautiously. He was not pinned, he did not cower, for showing fear and weakness in such a way was not becoming of a Decepticon in front of their own kind, but... it was hard not to show some reaction and give her space to pass.

As the behemoth exited out, Flatline followed shortly after. He crawled through the opening he had made and landed down onto the gritty earth with a thunk against the stone below. After he did so, he turned against the other to get a better look at what he was dealing with and if there were any visible injuries to her name.

The first thing he noted was that her model of build was not the most recent of types. She was structured with an older style that hadn't been put in production for quite some time. To Flatline, who made cutting edge new designed sparklings for towerlings, well... it was appalling. Not that he would say that to her of course, he wouldn't dare, but the old structure just screamed of needing some kind of upgrade to him.

Being bold, not fearing this new person fully yet, and trying to assert himself as having a bit more sway because of his perceived rank, Flatline lifted up a hand and clicked his claws together momentarily in a sort of snap to get her attention. When he was somewhat sure the femme was paying attention to him and no longer ogling the landscape, he would gesture down to a nearby rock that appeared large enough to sit her frame upon comfortably.

"How about you sit and elaborate on these injuries."

He started bluntly, though still kept his distance. Just because he was bold, didn't mean he would be STUPID. It is after he stated this instruction, he reached both of his arms out in front of himself. Elbow joints went straight, and his wrists hooked down sharply. It was an odd stance for a moment, seemingly quite out of place before the decorative red panels on his forearms surged up with a hiss.

The compartments pushed out and away from his mesh enough so that a hand could grab on and pull if needed, and he soon did just that. Choosing the one he was looking for, his sharp fingertips gripped onto its edge and pulled gently, removing a tool that unfolded into shape and illuminated momentarily before going inert. He did not remove the other tools, but did leave them part ejected for ease just in case.

Slamming the device into his open palm, the light would pop on and off momentarily while he fiddled.

"Tell me everything that happened?"

[Deleted]

Medic wanted her to sit down, to be able to elaborate her injuries better. She didn't respond immediatedly, but kept her optic in him, the crimson optic narrowing a bit as he began preparing something. This caused her to tense up little bit, yet it didn't show outside, as she was still ready for anything possibly hostile actions by him.
Arma had been tend by many medics during battle on cybertron, she had familiarized herself with most of the tools they had used, and those Flatline was presenting there, looked quite familiar to her. Cautious, she was perhaps a bit too cautious. But then again, she had fought a long, one femme's war, and barely survived it. That, and rough crashlanding. She didn't want to take any risks being assasinated when she was this close to her goal.

Also, she kinda understood the reasons medic possibly wanted to inspect her.Other worlds may have been infested with diseases and parasites, which she couldn't even know she was carrying, yet which she might infect the whole mothership crew with. It was quite understandable too. Taking his advise, she lowered her massive, stiff jointed frame to rest on rocky surface.

"Everything that happened?" She repeated the question. There wasn't really much to tell, nothing actually classified information on her campaign she couldn't share with him. "I was on a mission, to find and destroy autobot bases, and to exterminate their inhabitants. It took long time, i have no actual intel on how long it actually took." Could've the crash possibly damaged something in her memory, or was there something else wrong with her hard drive. Well, the computer chip she had salvaged from the ship contained all the data necessary, including the time she had been wandering around the space.

"The last one was a rough one. Left me with just one optic, and with most of these injuries. My mission, however came to an end at that time, for that part. I had no means to patch myself up any better than this. All i was able to do, was to set my ship to follow decepticon signal through space. I had to lower myself to stasis, to minimize the body functions, to prevent worse complications. I was supposed to wake just before arriving, but as you can see, something clearly went wrong." She nodded towards still smoking shipwreck.

The stiffness she was feeling, felt quite weird. She had spent time in stasis before too, yet she never had felt her reflexes being this dull. Of course, some of her damages were also to blame for the state, yet it was quite wonder she hadn't suffered worse injuries during the crash.

[Flatline]

Flatline was fiddling and trying to get the device to turn on again, twisting it a bit and tinkering with some of the smaller connectors on it. Despite these efforts, he was actually listening, taking note of everything she said, or what she may have not spoken of. The absence of certain phrases could convey as much as the words actually spoken. It is because of this he did catch onto the fact she didn't seem to recollect the time, and made a small mental note about that.

Really, the impact could have just jostled things a bit loose, it sometimes happens, and it wasn't anything to be overly concerned about unless it persisted long-term. This crash had just happened and auto repair can patch stuff up quickly and... and there was the flashlight! The device finally activated again, it projecting a bright white light.

"A similar thing occurred to me."

Flatline spoke calmly, lowering his arm with the flashlight so that the beam was pointing down at the ground while he elaborated. His free hand raised and flicked off to the side dismissively soon after though to accent his following words and clarify quickly.

"Not the mission, but the arrival to earth. Except... I did not awake. I do not know how long my shuttle was beneath the sea, but my awakening was just as rude as your own to come to among dark ocean and plant life."

He sneered, lips peeling back into a disgruntled look that exposed the gnarled edges of his dental plates. He did not like the ocean now, especially since he had been so decrepit and in poor shape by the time he drug himself up to the surface. Alas, that was then, and this was now.

"With the amount of crashes on this planet, it can lead one to many conspiracy theories."

Rolling his shoulders into a shrug, he started to close the gap between them, walking closer and making sure his approach was known. He didn’t want to startle a possibly concussed Cybertronian that looked big enough to backhand him over her ship like some kind of ball in a game. Either way he got up beside her eventually, reaching his free hand up to show her it was weapon free, before trying to lightly grasp at her jaw to keep her helm steady.

If she permitted him to guide her, he would lift the light up to shine into her remaining optic. The bright light would overpower and drown out the color tinted illumination from the orb, allowing him to actually look and view the intricacies that otherwise would appear to be a solid color. Looking for optic damage was a good first step in seeing if there was any kind of neural damage, especially with viewing the reflexes of the shutters trying to fight back against the glow. He would move the light away and shine it back to test, continuing to speak to keep her occupied.

"It is beneficial then that you got here when you did, for if you lost another optic chances are you would not have been so lucky."



((Just so I know what I am working with, can you include in your next post or PM me a description of everything that is wrong? Or is it just the optic and generic stiff joints and such from Stasis? I don't want to assume anything.))

[Deleted]

//Trying to return back to the world of living again, that's why i must apologize beforehand, possibly short and messy post//

Arma kept following his movements, listening to his words. His behavior was quite typical for medic. Talking mostly things not actually related to the matter, to keep patients thoughts away from the examinations itself, to keep her occupied, as stated.

Hearing his comment, about similar thing happening to him, Arma's brow rose a bit. Sounded like Arma, even if her awaking was little bit rough, was bit easier than Flatline's had been. Waking up in cold and dark ocean, compared to this it sounded like much worse choice. And seeing Flatline's reaction as he spoke about that, made it clear he despised the thought himself right now. To his comment, about conspiracy theories, Arma actually let out small laugh. Dry, no smile, just that little laugh with strong metallic tone.

She relaxed, a little bit. It seemed like Flatline was who he stated he was, not intending to harm her any way. It was unusual for her to trust anyone, this easily at least, but she felt too tired to stay on the edge all the time. She didn't fight back, as he grasped her jaw, to steady her helm. At this moment, she permitted him to do anything necessary to examine her. Her optic reacted to the light, but with bit lazy pace, taking some time before shutters began to act, as the light was shined into it.

At the same time, Arma tried to perform some personal scanning through her system, neural system, hydraulics and such. But all she got was error messages, not any readings of her damages or anything.

"This is strange." She spoke with steady tone. "My body's scanners appear to be offline for some reason."

[Flatline]

Flatline held onto her jaw light enough she could pull away if she truly desired, but with enough force behind it that he could maneuver her helm at any angles that were needed. This allowed him to look into her remaining optic with no problems, the light flooding and cutting through the natural illumination sharply. This outlined the way the shutters moved, allowing him to see the finicky mechanism responding, though a bit delayed in what should have been.

Lifting the light a bit to catch the primary lens at an angle, he tried to negotiate reflections just right to see behind the lens itself, before getting the information he needed and diverting his attention to the missing optic, or more accurately... the hollow void where it had once been. His hooked thumb blade lightly sat down below the optic opening, and pushed gingerly to pull the malleable metal down enough to get a look at what was going on there. He didn’t press too hard though, didn’t force the eye to completely open, not wanting to agitate, but he wanted to make sure there was no raw components getting rusted from lack of care.

Satisfied, he snapped the flashlight closed and let go of her helm so that she could speak freely, he slid the tool back into the inbuilt socket on his forearm, locking it in place so that it looked like it had never popped out to begin with. It was then she spoke about her scanners, and his jaw twisted in its socket momentarily.

"Huh... well that gives me an idea where to look."

Normally Flatline would offer to do a scan himself, to not only confirm his suspicions, but also put the other Cybertronian at ease in knowing that they got a clean sweep or not right away, but... that wasn't an option for him. He didn't have a built in scanner, and Knock Out was being a prissy little thing about keeping them all to himself. Flatline was honestly considering stealing one, and Primus-be-damned whatever foolish consequences the other medic had up his sleeves, but that was a thought for another day. For now, the only thing he could do scan wise, would require a medical link and he wasn't really game for that unless it was needed.

"Can be any number of things that can cause that function to go down, most of which I don't think are even applicable here unless you were doing something to pick up malicious programs on your adventures."

Flatline grumbled this out while he moved back and around Arma some, keeping himself at least partly within her line of sight. He knew better than to be 100% invisible to a new Decepticon. Play it safe, always. As such, he reached his hand up, and placed the edges of his fingertips on the back of her helm, gingerly coaxing her to lean her head forward to look for where the possible strike occurred. He didn’t see any immediate damage, and really, all of it was probably internal, a cut and dry case.

"Honestly, as bland and boring as it is, rest and avoiding physical and mental exertion is all that can really be done for that. A good defrag and some recharge to smooth it all over. Just need to get that eye looked at and a real scan done for any small invisible issues I can't even try to diagnose here."

[Deleted]

Arma had never felt too safe about any medics. Trusting them was hard, even if they were on the same side. They were, after all, Decepticons. Deception was the way for most of them, if it would be any profit to them.
Especially when the medic turned to her blind optic, it caused Arma to growl slightly, though it was more of a reflex than anything else, and her being steadied immediatedly, hoping that she did not scare the medic too much. He did finish his work, sounding like satisfied.
This one seemed like the medic Arma possibly could work with in the future too.

Hearing Flatline answering her words, her head tilted a bit. Her memory didn't contain anything that would hint her experiencing this kind of malfunction before. Though, right now, her data was more than messed, and it would propably take some time for her system to re-configurate itself. It was very possible, that during those countless battles during battle on cybertron, she had experienced this before.

Arma didn't react too much, as Flatline was moving around her, possibly trying to locate something. He moved her helm a bit, Arma moving along, to ease his job.

Hearing the last of his words, which sounded like something told to the sparkling, when being sick. It made her let out a small, dryish laugh. Knowing that nothing serious damages propably hadn't occured, made Arma feel little bit easier. The malicious programs, she had stayed away from autobot databases, so there shouldn't be anything too dangerous in her system.

"Understood."

Arma spoke finally. She stood up, stretching her jointsand neck a little bit.

"Now that it's clear that i'm not carrying anything contagius. If possible, i would like to rejoin the decepticon main force, as soon as possible. I have my report to deliver. Also, i would like to hear the current state of the war with the autobots."

It could be that Arma wasn't in a shape to fight in the front line just yet, but more than that, she hoped to meet Lord Megatron after all this time. Though, there was always a possibility, that the war had came to it's end already. That idea sent slight shivers through her spinal cord, as she pushed the idea away.

[Flatline]

Pausing momentarily at the growl, Flatline held stationary long enough to be sure the femme wasn't going to clock his helm clean off his shoulders, before he proceeded with the basic exam and finished up in a quick manor. He didn’t need to drag things out if they weren't required, and he didn't need to unintentionally delay her from a real scan that may reveal something direr he would have no clue about.

Either way, her dry laugh put him further at ease, knowing that what he said was the epitome of cliché doctor... but it was important information! And many didn’t put much stock in the cookie cutter commentary about how important such things were. Alas, it was probably a mantra now for all medics, and he was no exclusion, turning about so that he could hop off of the raised stones and rocks that he had been using as a means to even reach her helm to begin with.

Pronged peds snapped down against the gritty earth with a clap, causing small amounts of the looser earth to shift and kick up tiny plumes of dust. It was hardly even visible however in the hazy environment, it already tainted by the disruption brought forth from the shuttles crash. Alas, once he had his footing proper, he raised back up to an appropriate height, and turned about to view the femme.

"You will still want to get a proper scan at the Medical Bay-"

He prompted, sounding disgusted. It wasn't that he hated the Medical Bay itself, no, he just was having one hell of a metaphorical pissing contest with the resident 'Chief of Medicine'.

"-but you don't seem to be in any immediate danger and may relay your report if it is deemed valuable enough to warrant the detour."

Flatline reached his hand up to the side of his helm then, clicking down the back of one of his hooked talons to the side of his helm to activate his comm relay back to the warship. The motion wasn't technically needed to do this task, but was a good way to visually show Arma that he was making the request to get her on board, and was not stalling needlessly down on the planet. He quickly sent over the cords, and information, as well as the information that a salvage team of Eradicons would need to come into active play soon.

Once done with this task, his arm dropped, and he mulled over his next words carefully knowing what he had to say could be a bit shocking for those who were not prepared properly. It is because of this; Flatline fully turned about face and took a few paces backwards, the hock of one of his digitigrade legs clicking against a stone, before he eased down to sit upon it casually.

"Alas... you have come at a rather odd time in which a temporary truce has been put into immediate action. Autobot and Decepticon alike are working together against a joint foe. You can get all the information on it once on the Nemesis, but I do recommend rest first..."