Ep 2- Bad Machine [ Closed. Flatline ]

[Breakdown]

Timeline:
Episode 2 | Week 3 | Day 3

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     Medics should have been working together, right? Not against one another, yes? Sure, Knock Out could be a little bit of a pain to deal with at times but he was still chief medical officer and while that served to stroke his already pompous ego, the other medic didn't have to go about making this whole weird situation even worse. Come together, share ideas, try to make the Decepticon army the best that it could be with the best technology, weapons, and well rested troops who could take out anything from Autobots to Mech.

     The two on board the Nemesis, though? Polar day and night and yet oddly alike in some ways. It hardly seemed like it was ever going to have that sort of kinship. Knock Out and Flatline always seemed to be getting under one another's skin for one reason or another and Breakdown was usually forced to either get between their fits at one another or stand in the background and just listen to their back and forth bickering. Seemed like the current cycle wasn't about to show any relief from the usual, either.

     Breakdown listened to Knock Out complaining about his stuff being missing, tearing things apart as he looked for them. Breakdown simply followed, picking up his tools and replacing them where they were before the medic came roaring through like a tornado. He was always picking up after Knock Out, not that he really minded that much since he either got a good view of his partner or some subconscious praise for keeping things tidy for him. 

     Today he was to get none of that from his partner, because it was was 'Flatline is an aft who yadda yadda' day. 

    "Flatline the little slag stole my best scanner. Go get it back and.. Mm, scare him into not taking anything else, would you?"

     Thief Flatline. Retrieve tool. Fear.

     That was the set of orders he'd been given before he was sent on his way. He really didn't like to be instructed to do things like this that would obviously cause issue with the others on the ship, but this was Knock Out and that was Flatline. Honestly, he couldn't really push aside the opportunity to knock his helm once or twice or threaten him with his temper. This time also served he had the perfect cover for it if he tried to whine to Megatron about anything. It was the chance he needed.

     Breakdown walked the halls rather casually, not really in any hurry to travel the distance from one set of labs to the more dingy and crummy ones. He nodded in acknowledgement to the Vehicons he passed on his way to Flatline's lab. Breakdown didn't care too much for the mech either, mostly because of the stress he usually put on his partner whenever the two were in such close quarters, but also because the mech was a little more of an aft than he really needed to be. Sure, the Decepticons weren't all rays of sunshine, but as a medic he would have assumed some beside manner would have been a little more reassuring to any patient who was laid out on your table if he were repairing you. Then again, the same could probably be said about Knock Out sometimes...

     Breakdown paused outside of the door and stared at it. It didn't open on his approach for one reason or another and Breakdown really didn't feel like busting it down to get inside if he didn't have to. So he would give Flatline the benefit of the doubt in this... for now. Now if only he could hide the irritation from his voice.

     A heavy servo knocked on the door.

     "Flatline." The name wasn't addressed as a question, as if he knew already that the medic was hiding around in there. Not that he really did, and frankly didn't care because he'd find a way in anyway, but it would have been nice to have to save an explanation to Megatron as to why the door was split off into pieces. "It's Breakdown. Knock Out sent me to collect the scanner you... 'borrowed'... from his lab. Your door won't open up for me, and I would really hate to need to assist it in doing so." He didn't say 'I'm coming in one way or another' flat out, but the implication was there none the less. 'Really hate' was also a little more sarcastic than it should have been if it were otherwise a kind gesture to just not blast the door off the tracks.

     "I'm giving you until three before I assume you're not in here and I make my own entrance. I don't have all day."

[Flatline]

Knock Out's Medical Bay was ridiculous in every way whatsoever. With a ship the size of the Nemesis, it was absolutely massive, and ready to take on an influx of injured soldiers at any given moment. Multiple medics could comfortably work and reside within that sector of the ship, and the duplicate tools and supplies shrieked of a well stocked area that was being underutilized. Flatline, because of this, had very little qualms with borrowing anything he needed, or just trying to straight out take it.

With only one Medic running that sector, and one little helper 'gopher', they wouldn't be able to use all the duplicate tools even if they were going to try to do so! It was obscene. Of course Flatline would never take anything that there was only one of, he was no monster. As much as he clashed with Knock Out, and wanted to eject his over shiny red aft out of the Nemesis, he knew he had a purpose, and he wouldn't impede his work, and by extension Megatron's will, in the slightest less he end up killing others.

Not a goal.

That’s why he took what was meant to be an extra scanner, because why not? It was valuable; he got to exploit it when doing final checks on an installed piece of gear on a Vehicon, or just pass it over constructed limbs and body parts he built to make sure everything was functional to the topmost ability. Sure he could trust it, trust his skill and talent, but... why would he want to NOT scan if it was an additional and quite easy check to do?

Despite this, despite the logic behind it all, Flatline was not surprised in the slightest when he heard a heavy hand knock on the door. He quickly jumped through the hoops on who it could be in his processor however if it was NOT Breakdown. Megatron would have just walked in, and Shockwave would have no need to leave his lab, he need only summon Flatline. Skywarp wasn't so polite, and would have probably ripped the door out of its slots and then complain that it was 'stuck' when stuck equals locked. Alas, he didn’t get to think much further until Breakdown's voice piped up and confirmed first impulse assumptions.

"Don't you DARE! You do realize that this is a controlled area, and to break in could expose the ship to any number of toxins and chemicals I work with!?"

The upgrades medic snarled this out, raising his voice from his work station to delay Breakdown... breaking down... the door. Hostility, venom, and what sounded like real anxiousness was paired with these words, to add validity to his claim.

"There is reason Shockwave and my own labs are at this far end of the ship, and reason it is in such a desolate place."

Bluffing. But it could be true for all Breakdown knew. The corridor the brute stood within was minimally lit, the pathway not kept up as well as other sectors of the ship. It was as if this quadrant stood on its own from others, and would be inky black in darkness if the sparse workers didn’t occasionally pass by. It made it dreary, and cold.

Within the lab, it wasn't too much better.

While the Medical Bay was crisp and bright, sparkling clean with only an edge of doom and death to it because of the bitter sterile smell, Flatline's lab was different, without being unprofessional. It was dimly lit, casting the grey steel interior in heavy shadows that drenched across the area, muddling the details of industrial cabinets and tools that were neatly stacked and placed away. Everything was still clean; the sterile smell mostly the same, but with a sharper edge of a mechanics shop where things got manufactured.

Flatline was sitting at a work table within this space, most definitely not working with poisonous compounds or horrors like Tox-En or the Plague like he was implying. Instead the surface held what appeared to be a severed Eradicon arm that was supported up on spindly posts that kept it lifted off from the tables surface, and at a comfortable working height. The inside of the elbow down to the wrist was pulled open and apart, exposing hydraulic pistons and underlying mesh in a tangled webbing of wires and pipes. Sitting beside the limb, was a tray of small tools, a machine of some sort that appeared half wired into the arm, for now sitting on the tabletop, some cleaning chemicals, and then an overhead light that shot a beam of illumination upon the work space.

"So can you tell me why you so DESPERATELY need a scanner you would be willing to infect Knock Out's lab?"

He droned this back, turning back to his task. His secondary, far smaller limbs, reached up and gingerly grabbed onto two wires, sliding a tiny segment of shrink tubing on that would eventually mesh and meld with the wire's outer coating, or at least it would once the limb was installed back in place and auto repair took hold again.

[Breakdown]

     "It's such a controlled area that others on this ship are able to just get inside without needing to ask and risk that same exposure?" Breakdown frowned some and exhaled. He really couldn't understand the childish fighting between his partner and Flatline. One would have assumed that as Decepticon medics- something in a rare commodity these days- they would at least try to work together but that had come on very rare occasions when there needed to be more than one skilled servo on a job and Breakdown was just not the nimble type to provide assistance. Even at those times it was rather strained. "Doesn't Shockwave not like hearing the noise from everyone moving around on the lively side of the Nemesis or something like that?"

     Breakdown would not be made into a fool. He wasn't stupid. Sure, sometimes not all the lights were on and it was a question if something didn't stall once in a while, but that was usually when someone was trying to explain something to him that really just made no sense. He wasn't a scientist and he had no intention of ever being one. So there was always that. Not to mention they used way too many big words. There was a reason there weren't protocol meetings outside of 'get your scrap checked out'. 

     "If Knock Out's lab was going to be contaminated by my returning his scanner to where it belongs in HIS medbay, it would have been already just by you coming over and retrieving it. So I'll just have to make sure I do some extra deep scrubbing at the end of this cycle to ensure nothing is messed up... not like it would be the first time I've had to. Unless you're implying that we've not had our fair share of disgusting things creeping and crawling around the medical bay as well." 

     If Breakdown could have rolled his optic, he would have. Instead he just rounded his rotatory joints and shook his helm. Seriously, sometimes he didn't know who the bigger sparkling was. Not that Breakdown would side with Flatline, though. It'd have to be seriously against Knock Out's favor if he would ever be forced to lean that way. The creepy four-armed mech behind this door also just annoyed the scrap out of him.

     "Now open this door, Flatline. I'm gonna start counting, and then I'm making my own door. You know I'm not bluffing, either, though I suppose I could always just follow through to remind you that such a word doesn't exist in my memory core." There was a pause, as if he were waiting to see if he could hear movement but it was something else. Breakdown's left servo had flipped in and his hammer was now in its place. Sure, he would have to face Megatron if Flatline went running off to tattle to Megatron about what happened, but when it came down to it? Not that Breakdown really cared. He had the tables in his favor, being that he was here to get something back that didn't belong to the sticky-digited one and well... Flatline just didn't want to return it. Besides, the faster he got in here and collected what he had been sent to get, the faster he could leave the hunched mech to what he was doing behind his door.

     "1..." Breakdown started to lift the hammer. 

     "2..." It was above his helm now, ready to come crashing down should Flatline still not heed his warning. 

[Flatline]

"Well, I am now further confirmed in my belief that the intelligence level of most on this ship is depressing... because the door IS locked, not 'able to just get inside'."

Flatline leaned back in his chair as he called these words out, his half lidded eyes turning to peer over at the doorway. He could imagine the brute of a Cybertronian on the other side, probably acting his weird blend of aggressive and passive that seemed to be his theme. Flatline supposed it was the type of person Knock Out would keep around. Strong enough to do all the labor that the prissy mech couldn't be bothered to try, yet passive enough to fall into the backdrop when not needed.

"Just because it is a quarantined area, does not mean it is ALWAYS quarantined and suddenly inhospitable for its entire function. My lab has multiple uses because I only have one space to work within, and I just happen to be working with insciens iaevus at this moment."

He grumbled this out in dismay. In reality, he leaned back in his chair even more, going so far as to lift one of his digitigrade limbs up so that the pronged hoof would cap over the edge of the table. He used this point to push himself, reclining now in a way that had him teetering on the back two posts of the chair. He didn't so much as waver however, the two large gyroscopes in his shouldering doing well to make it perfectly steady.

"And no, I know you have disgusting things lurking around the Medical Bay, but I think a blaster is your only real cure for it."

A bit of a smugness was heard in these words, snide and grating at Knock Out himself. Alas, Breakdown started to do a countdown, and Flatline instantly had to make some calculations in the tiny fractions that started to tick past.

Did he bank on the brute bluffing? Did he hope on a dream that he wouldn't dare ACTUALLY destroy one of the doors to the Nemesis? Or did he bank on the fact the doors were immensely thick in this ship and he would only really dent in inward a few times with a couple of whollops if that? The doors to his lab were like many others on this vessel, and spiraled away from its central shape to fold into the walls on either side. They were hefty, screaming of the warships power and capabilities. He... he was fairly certain it could hold Breakdown out long enough for him to scream the idiot off his psychotic perch, but... did he REALLY want to witness the damage and dings every time he had to return to his sanctuary? Did he REALLY want to be reminded of Knock Out EVERY time he came home to what was meant to be his safe environment? I mean... attached to the lab was even where Flatline slept, a built in room. This was his HOME.

Just before Breakdown could utter the word 'Three', the doors spiraled open and apart with a snarled hiss and a silent command. Beyond the dreary hall and the hefty door, revealed a lab that had many similarities to the Medical Bay, while also being quite different in its own ways. It was darkened, drenched in long shadows that were accented by Flatline's singular work lamp while being made that much more dim from the darkened raw metal installations. Large computer banks stood proud at one side, while the other had a medical slab that had an overhead light up above. The circular dome light held multiple arms attached to it that arched down like inset legs, spindly and thin to clutch onto tools from drills to soldering irons. The light was off, meaning the work light across the room made it appear like some kind of organic beast hanging down and casting large shadows.

On counter tops were many jars of questionable substances, some noxious dull tones that stuck on the interior of the glass at the top as if it were trying to escape, while others seethed with a luminous glow that skirted over nearby components. They only confirmed the fact that Flatline may actually be working on some dangerous things at times, even if he wasn't doing so at the direct moment. On the far wall was a secondary door, but this one was much smaller than the primary hatch. It would lead further into his area to where he resided when sleep called upon him.

Flatline was staring at Breakdown with a cold gaze, his frame drenched in shadows with only a skirting edge of light hitting his armor from the work table that was brightly illuminated. It made his red optics seethe that much stronger, staring with an unblinking gaze to dare Breakdown to try something.

[Breakdown]

     “3…”

     He was ready to swing, pulling his hammer back…

     And then the doors slid open.

     Well, there was no denying that Breakdown was almost disappointed when the door had opened. He had been instructed to teach Flatline a lesson about taking things out of the medbay - a reminder of sorts- and what easier way than to leave it on the door? Flatline would probably be asked about it, be it how it happened or when he was going to fix it. Either way of getting it repaired or leaving it alone, he would have to stare at what would have probably been pretty extensive damage each time he walked through those doors. Sure, eventually the effects of it would fade, but there’d be no denying that ‘Knock Out’s grunt’ had been the one to have caused the damage.

     Oh well. Opportunity wasted. Maybe he’d leave a dent as a parting gift when he left.

     He switched out the hammer as he stepped inside the room and right away started to look around, spotting Flatline right away at an examination table with something peculiar before him.

      “We can make this as easy or as difficult as you see fit, Flatline. If you hand over the scanner I can be gone without incident, or you can just sit there and force me to have to look for it myself. Which, I can’t then guarantee that this place will stay entirely intact.” He shrugged some and turned his gaze elsewhere, momentarily cracking his digit joints as though hinting to just what he was implying. “Up to you.”

      Breakdown couldn’t help but to focus on the various containers and tools Flatline had around his lab. Some of the equipment looked similar to things that he and Knock Out used around the Medbay, though he suspected that they were used more than tasks revolving around repairs and maintenance- at least not the kind that he was used to.

     “I really don’t get why you two go at each other the way you do. Once you get past the vanity and stubbornness Knock Out really ain’t all that bad. You’d get used to him if you’d stop doing stupid scrap to purposely piss him off.” Breakdown picked up one of the containers and stared at the contents. “I wouldn’t even have to come here and take back our stuff if you would just ask to borrow it to begin with. Reasonable suggestion.” The container he’d had in his hand was put back down, but not in the place he had picked it up from. Instead he placed it on a higher shelf- one that Flatline would have to put some effort into reaching. Then he moved on.

     Breakdown made his way over to where Flatline was, he was exploring the other things around him with both his optic and his servos. Everything seemed to be set up in some sort of system- not organized in a way he would favor but hey, this wasn’t his workspace. He didn’t say anything as he casually rearranged whatever he picked up along the way. Things were placed here and there, out of reach, in place of something else that he picked up, so on and so forth. The process was repeated as he mangled whatever system Flatline had. He knew he had been given a cold look when he had entered and it hadn’t even phased him. Whatever expression he was getting now was just as easily ignored. Breakdown had dealt with worse, so Flatline was of little bother to him.

     When he finally reached the mech he had a tool in his servo, which he reached out and set down on the table just beside the object he had apparently been working on. Breakdown’s faceplate hinted to his curiosity even before words came out.

     “What the frag are you working on? Thinking of upgrading to something a bit more useful?”

     Insert tiny stab spoken as casually as a question passed between acquaintances.

[Flatline]

Flatline could be a loud mech when he wanted to be, not above complaining when something was done out of line or shrieking when his stuff was tampered with. He was plenty capable of being blunt and cutting straight to the point, sheering with a razors edge to lash back with vile anger and distaste. To expect such a thing out of him would have been a sound guess, it would have been expected as much as a deadly punch from Megatron or outright death if you were to speak against the Warlord. This anticipated noise from the upgrades medic was even more set in stone when Breakdown began to manhandle everything he crossed paths with...

But it never came.

Flatline remained where he was with an icy calmness about him, his one ped raised to plant upon the table's edge, while he was still leaning back on his chair to teeter on the back two points. He said nothing, watching the bulkier mech with a still gaze that had a haunting chill as if he were peering straight through into his very spark. While Flatline turned his helm to follow his progress around the laboratory, he did not turn his frame when Breakdown moved out of his immediate line of sight, instead allowing his gaze to carry forward to the wall, before the brute entered his field of view once more.

As Breakdown progressed, he would have come across many odd things as he did so.

The noxious jar of chemicals curled and swirled within its confines when it was lifted up, a shimmered whirl coiling about while thicker chunks clutched and grasped onto the lid. It collected near the point Breakdown's servo grasped onto, the fluid moving against anticipated forces as if willing to connect and eat through the glass to get to the living machine. When it was placed back down, the chemical took notice of gravity once more, and flowed back into a normal state.

Some tools that he grasped were readily recognizable, from a few screwdrivers to wrenches, and some hooked and sharp picks and barbs that looked almost akin to a weapon instead of a tool. In contrast however, others were far more mangled and odd, curving blades and arched forcipes that seemed to not have an immediate apparent use. There was a single plunger, its canister empty from any container, while the reinforced industrial point was extended from its frame, bared to the open air instead of housed inside the device. It was probably being repaired. They all gleamed in the dim light, clean with a smooth finish of being freshly polished. Nearby next to them was the cleaner, the container half empty and its label rubbed raw and scraped from use and being re-filled countless times already.

The overhead light with armed attachments let out a hiss when it was pushed and nudged, the arm shoving fluidly with little resistance or prompting, causing the entire apparatus to lower as if it was being maneuvered into a new position. It then hung awkwardly from its mounting over the medical table, the domed pane of the extinguished light angled towards the far wall instead of straight down.

One thing Breakdown grasped onto however appeared inert, a mass of metal and small plates that fitted over the tool snugly. However, when he gripped it the device flared open with a sharp snap, revealing five long fingers of an avian hand that looked barbarically built. Cold steel, rough sand marks and etches across it, acid stains and painted on notes and shorthand printed along dark metal in white. The hand spiraled out with sharp bladed fingertips, the underside housing Mneumosurgery needles that were retracted into the digits roughly. When Breakdown let go, or lessened his grip, the hand would slowly curl back closed. The entire apparatus had been stationed near the incinerator hatch, as if being prepped to be disposed of or dismantled.

As he approached over to Flatline's table, Flatline's half lidded gaze locked down, watching Breakdown and not passing the deposited tool a second glance let alone a first. He didn't even acknowledge the trooper forearm that was on his table, nor the insult that was passed his way about upgrading. He didn’t bother to fight the comment, to point out his forearms were far more honed and advanced than some drone, no... he just watched.

"Find what you are looking for?"

Oily smooth and somehow slickly dark despite having a gritty edge to it that was per the normal for Flatline's rougher voice. It even had an inkling dab of kindness that was unfounded, as if a friend was generally wondering if Breakdown had found what he had needed. Of course, this was muddled under a shroud of refined venom.

[Breakdown]

     "If I had found what I was looking for, I wouldn't still be here taking up your precious time." There was no sarcasm or cattiness in his tone. He was just pointing out a rather obvious point and vented some afterwards as he returned to staring around the room with his single optic, trying to see if he could spot the scanner laying out somewhere.

     Of course it wouldn't be THAT easy.

     The more he looked around, the more he saw of the lab that Flatline kept himself all cooped up in. There were several things in the lab that had caught Breakdown's optic. After the incident with the reactive liquid in the container he wanted to touch other things just to see if they did anything. It was a shame that Knock Out and Flatline didn't get along, or else there could maybe be a civil exchange of borrowed tools from one facility to the other and Breakdown could get to handle some of the tools more thoroughly instead of a little poke here and there just to get to Flatline's nerves.

     One thing that Breakdown didn't find interesting? The device with the Mneumosurgery needles. Something about it had made him uncomfortable, having triggered a stinging sensation from his memory core as if it were trying to remind him of something he just couldn't put a digit on. He'd seen something close to that before but he couldn't quite recall where. Right away when he had seen the needles he had put the thing down and moved on. Unknown to Breakdown, those prodding little needle fingers had had a part in erasing large chunks from his memory core not long after he'd been sparked to rid him of a lot of what he remembered about the Academy. The choppy, shabby work of the non precise surgeon had left enough behind for Breakdown to put together pieces of a story he figured he didn't know the completion to because of his faulty processor.

     "You know what I'm here looking for, so why don't you just save us both the trouble and turn it over?"

     Breakdown stepped back from Flatline and moved around the desk to one of the tables that held various tools. These had Breakdown curious and he reached down to pick up one after another to get a better look. These he didn't recognize, so they must have been ones that Flatline used in his fabrications since they clearly weren't medical tools- at least not the ones Knock Out had in the medbay.

     :: I'm not finding it anywhere, Knock Out. I'm hoping that Flatline just turns it over ::, he commed to his partner. Really, he was expecting that he would get some rowdy response sent back.

     While he was paying attention to his comm line and staring at the tools before him, he failed to notice the other ones on the shelf just above it. So as he reached to grab one of the tools further back on the table his frame was leaned forward just enough to angle him under it. As he started to stand upright from his tilted position his left shoulder spikes hit the rack on one side and flipped it over itself from the wall, sending all the jarred tools falling to the table and the floor, knocking various things from the table over as well on the way down.

     "Oops?"

[Flatline]

It really was a shame that the two medics couldn't get along, because working as a team they could probably get a good deal accomplished both medically and scientifically. Each had their boons and strengths, each could do things the other couldn't and it meant that they could cover more ground and accomplish more for the Decepticon cause! But... it just figured that such agreements were currently impossible, and that they would clash as much as they did. It left Breakdown in the awkward position of trying to intimidate and get something out of a Cybertronian that was prepared to go to extreme lengths just to drive a scalpel in Knock Out's side.

The shelf's contents were instantly jarred and fell from their safe position with a loud clatter that cut through the relative calm and silence of the room. Small delicate hooks and prongs used in detailing and fine work on small projects, fell down to the ground with a rattle, the impact from the fall causing many of their slender wire like ends to be bent and twisted in the process. Fine points dented in, gentle curves kinked, but what was truly shattering, was the couple jars and a device that had followed suit.

One of the jars landed with a hard thunk onto the table, the thick walls of the vessel protecting it from shattering, but it did get cracked badly in the process. A clear viscous fluid leaked out from the container, oozing out to cover some of the nearby bent picks and hand tools. In contrast, the other jar downright shattered, a sand like particle spilling out and dusting over the nearby area, adhering to the glue like material that had leaked. The powder coated over the vehicon arm's open palm with a light haze of white, the airborne particles settling rather quickly. In contrast, the device hit down with a hard clunk, and didn’t so much as bounce or roll after impact. It was heavy, and solid, the vent slats and part of its outer housing denting in at the impact site before it was covered in powder.

Flatline didn’t say a thing, nor move when this occurred, his attention locked down upon Breakdown with a predatory gaze. It was only when the brute uttered the halfhearted 'oops' that he finally acted out in response. Carefully, Flatline's legs gingerly pulled back to lower his chair down flush with the floor below, before his peds placed down a moment after. He eased up to his feet gradually and strode over to stand near where Breakdown was, and where the mess had been made.

Spindly fingertips flared out as he reached forward, plucking up broken glass while sand like particles and more liquid dribbled down. After he had the shrapnel remains of the vessel in palm, he eased into a kneel and rummaged to pick up a few things off the floor, and in turn open a drawer to deposit the few tools that could be easily salvaged. With the damaged things in hand, he started to walk.

"You know, Breakdown, I understand your situation."

Slick, calm, he moved around the larger Cybertronian like a serpent, sliding around to his other side to begin a gradual walk across the room with the garbage.

"You are doing what you are told, and believe that making a mess of things, and delivering threats are your best option."

Stopping in front of the incinerator hatch, Flatline palmed the security catch at its side, flicking it unlocked before he grasped onto its handle and wrenched harshly. There was a squeal as the door popped open, and a hissing crackle of the seal being broken. Dry heat flooded from the area, its warmth creeping out from the opening like a plague. While the actual incinerator was a short ways away, its pure power and strength churning in the Nemesis' internals radiated a soft light even this far, yellow dancing over the frame of the opening.

"But you should know when you are entering within a feud that is not yours to be had, and when you are being used. I refuse to let you win, and will do what I must."

One by one the black armored Cybertronian dropped the damaged components and glass down the chute, a rattled clatter ringing out as they bounced down the winding passage to be melted and burnt away into nothing. It is then the primary arm that was furthest from Breakdown folded out from hiding at his opposite side, displaying what he had within it.

The Scanner.

"It is the Decepticon way after all..."

While making direct eye contact, Flatline dropped the tool.

[Breakdown]

     Breakdown hadn't actually meant to knock that shelf over but there was no disagreement that the 'oops' had been less than genuine. He didn't feel the need to apologize while in this place- no, those apologizes were reserved for Knock Out when he would accidentally get in the way or unintentionally break something. Here? Well, Knock Out had sent him to teach Flatline a lesson but he hadn't felt the need to. Really, this was sparkling behavior from both sides. And if Breakdown had really intended on making a mess in here he would have done so already. Afterall, he was a bulky thing in a facility organized for a shorter, more agile frame who didn't have to be courteous of someone almost two of his widths. It was a formula for disaster even without malicious intent required.

     Speaking of the other side of the coin? The familiar ping of an incoming comm came through in response to his own.

     ::You aren't finding it because he'll have hidden it. Just get it back already and be quick about it.:: Came a rather annoyed sounding reply from Knock Out, who had probably began to question just what was taking so long, but not to the point that he'd actually go to the effort of getting the scanner back himself. Breakdown vented softly to himself and rolled his optic, looking to the left. Really, Knock Out was getting annoyed at the wrong person but he was used to being at the tail end of his irritated banters before. This one would be no different for certain.

     He stepped out of the way as Flatline cleaned up the mess he had made and silently watched him making his way over to the incinerator at the back of the bay. He was talking again so Breakdown genuinely listened to what was being said. Understood his situation? Flatline never so much as acknowledged his presence if they happened to cross paths on the Nemesis in spite of his own efforts to do so. Knock Out had attempted to feed him his own perceptions of the other medic but Breakdown DID have an operational processor of his own and could make his own observations of one's character. Thus far Knock Out hadn't been proven wrong. Though because of this, the 'small talk' Flatline was making gave him a sneaky suspicion that he was just distracting him.

     That fact proved true.

     Breakdown's optic locked on the scanner as Flatline raised it over the open door of the incinerator. He shifted his weight as Flatline continued to talk- almost seeming to mock him in a way- and hovered the scanner over the incinerator. Breakdown knew just what the other mech was planning. 

     'Frag!' 

     Breakdown started to charge before Flatline had even finished talking,
only a klik before it was released from the smaller mech's grasp. His heavy, thundering steps were easily heard as he closed the distance between himself and the medic. Anything that was in his way was either knocked out of the way or trampled right over. As he neared Flatline and the incinerator door he twisted his frame and came to a screeching halt to reach down just as the scanner was starting to tumble down the shoot. The angle that Breakdown twisted himself around to would put him sideways facing Flatline, which would be a pretty painful tap if he didn't get out of the way of Breakdown's wide, broad shoulder. Breakdown was too busy shoving his servo down the chute to pay attention to what was happening around him and he leaned his frame over and grabbed at the tumbling tool with one large servo of his in an attempt to save it from certain destruction.

[Flatline]

Flatline barely got out his words, before it registered that Breakdown was charging him, which... he should have noticed was going to happen sooner.

He was not trained, he did not have the skill set to go toe to toe with one that has many hours of practice and ample blood upon their hands of other warriors, but he was not completely useless. He should have seen the way Breakdown's frame tensed, the way his weight rolled and subsequent transition into a charge. He had that much talent at least; all of them had to have rudimentary fighting capabilities to last as long as they have in this war. But... he didn't really see it coming from a 'teammate'.

If this was back on the Terigon... if this was back when he and the rest of the team had to disembark to escape death... No. He would have been ready. Trust no one, survival of the fittest. Clawing, scraping, fighting for survival with no fuel other than what lay within the polymer veins of others. He would have had a harpoon flying at Breakdowns remaining eye if he so much as looked at him wrong... but the Nemesis was different. There was no Energon shortage, no need for such barbaric actions, and he had grown... relaxed... complacent...

The other Cybertronian was only a small amount taller than the medic, but the brute's frame overall was substantially larger and bulkier with powerful armor and design to bring harm upon others. It was a build that really was not good to see on the opposing side, and now that it was turned fully against him the pieces were starting to click in the medic's processor, his calm demeanor and expression changing rather abruptly to mirror this in the fractured seconds that followed.

Long slender quills pulled back flush against his spine, harpoon turrets hiking up high to point at the ceiling, a newfound stiffness of posture where he started to ease his weight back with a small half step, eyes widening, and lips peeling back to start to form the beginning stages of a grimace in fear. It all occurred in just a flicker, a spark beat, not enough time for a medic untrained in the art of combat to do anything about it. Just... barely enough time for instinctive responses to form.

With a loud heave of air blasting from vents, Flatline was slammed aside to fall to the ground with a rattling clatter. The impact flinging him flat on his back, only for a recoiling response to occur that caused his hind legs to swing up at his chest. While momentum from being hit so hard caused him to slide on the floor, his swinging legs and internal gyroscopes permitted him to roll properly around so that he landed down upon all fours. This also helped in halting his slide, his movements abruptly stopping when his hands palmed down to the ground, and hoof like peds snapped flush against the metal.

When Flatline was rammed into, he did let go of the scanner, but... the entire impact and ordeal made it more fling than drop gracefully like he had intended. The device that had been destined to go down the chute and be melted into useless slag instead was saved by the mass of Breakdown's thicker forearm that nearly plugged up the opening. The device rammed into his limb because of this, blocked from certain death before it bounced off of the reinforced armor. The force in which Flatline had ended up flinging when he was hit, combined with the speed Breakdown had been moving to try to grapple for it, made the scanner pop into the air and fall towards the center of the room, toppling corner over side before skittering to a rest in the open.

Oh no you don’t.

Now realizing what kind of situation this was, and having his systems geared up into a stressful state from the impact, Flatline flicked Breakdown only a cursory glance, before his hooves kicked down hard to launch him forward. While he was essentially airborne, secondary small limbs tucked sharply beneath his pectoral plating to try to protect them, for a moment later he was ramming onto his chest with primaries reached out as far as he could, attempting to scoop up the scanner before Breakdown could wheel around and beat him to the punch. All of this was paired with an ungraceful... noise... a squawky sound of panic and aggression that wasn't really flattering.

[Breakdown]

     Breakdown was one able to go pede-to-pede with Megatron and push back, match wits with his Autobot counterpart with almost little effort, and easily crash through barriers usually enough to hold even the mightiest of Decepticons. For a mech built to be used as a battering ram? Well, it was all a cakewalk. He had force behind everything he did, from casual steps to a full blown punch from his fisted servos. Everything was built on him to be a force to be reckoned with and not to be taken lightly.

     In spite of that weight that should have otherwise caused a mech like him to be virtually unable to travel more than a half mile a minute, Breakdown managed to move surprisingly quick from one side of the room to the other where Flatline was standing ready to drop the scanner into awaited destruction. Only he didn't have the chance to drop it.

     He also didn't move out of the way fast enough to completely avoid being struck. The smaller mech at least had enough sense to run instead of just stand there, which was the only thing that saved him from taking the full force of the 'attack'. Which was a good thing, since somewhere within Breakdown's spark he would have felt at least a little bad for taking out a teammate. When Breakdown came to a stop from the charge he looked over his shoulder as he turned to look at where the other medic was still moving. Good thing for him since he didn't want to explain why Flatline was entirely non functional in Knock Out's medical bay. Sure, he and his partner would find a good laugh out of it but he doubted anyone else would.

     But Flatline was moving, so that meant he wasn't that injured. Breakdown wasn't noticing what else the four-armed mech was up to since his attention had gone elsewhere. He had spotted where the scanner had come to rest on the floor after being flung and was walking to it to recover it. He really though this entire thing was over- that he could collect the scanner and return it to Knock Out and return to his look-overs on the Vehicons since some of them were due for their checkups. But no, that would have been too easy. Breakdown's optic blinked when he heard something that sounded like a scream of melting, twisted metal of one being dropped into the Pits.

     Only when he looked to see where it had come from he was greeted by Flatline making a desperate attempt for the scanner again, sliding towards it with the tail end of the weird noise finishing up. WHAT sort of sound was that? He'd have to ask about it once the current issue was taken care of. Breakdown intercept the scanner before Flatline had a chance to reach it but somehow he had a feeling that wasn't going to happen. So instead he switched his targets and he made a quick swing towards the floor right in the path of where Flatline was moving towards in an attempt to stop his advance, less aimed to hit him as it was to hit the floor in the path. If Flatline managed to stop his mid slide he would be able to dodge the blockade Breakdown had attempted to make. Though if he didn't? Well, he would be running helm first right into an awaiting part of a closed fist and arm. The latter probably wasn't exactly the ideal...

[Flatline]

Flatline could see the scanner; it was right in front of him! He was going to lunge over there and he was banking on the fact the burly mech was too clunky to be able to do so with the same amount of agility! He was no combat Cybertronian, he wasn't a fighter, but by golly was he going to try his best, and his best was showing as he kicked off to try to use agility and whit over brawn. The plain fact of the matter was, Flatline may be as tall as Breakdown, but he had significantly less overall mass. His limbs were smaller, his hips more narrow. He had the springing speed to get there first, only... Breakdown didn't need to get there first it seemed, he just needed to block Flatline's path.

O-oh...

There really wasn't any proper time for Flatline to react. Much like when he had been bashed aside a moment prior, he only really had the sense to tense up and ready for impact. His digitigrade legs crooked up, his hips angling down in an attempt to drive his knees into the ground for traction, while his large hands splayed flat onto the ground to try to do the same. Really, he only managed to get his forearms down flush with the ground, scraping red and black paint off onto the floor in small flecks, before his face ended up rammed directly into Breakdown's clenched fist.

Scrunching up from the impact, Flatline's entire frame seemed to compress inward as his momentum crushed his helm solidly down and into place. Much like when he had initially lunged, he ended up making another rather... unflattering sound, though this one was notably rather muffled and filled with more pain than just determination. After this noise was made, and the momentum bled away enough for him to wrench back some, he let out a gagged wheeze, Energon flicking down and to the ground as he raked in a ragged breath, before he wrenched into a sharp motion... only... instead of pulling away, he snapped AT Breakdown's fist.

Breakdown was going to wish he didn't do that, for Flatline was primed with enough childish rage and a NEED to win, that he was going to act petty and like the insecticon that many of the ship seemed to rumor him to be. As crazy as that statement was ((and completely untrue)) the fact was he went in for a rather savage bite with no remorse.

With a snarl snap, the upgrades medic lurched his helm forward, and tried to use his gnarled dental plates as a weapon. The jagged edge of his teeth were honestly quite sharp, not made that way out of a desire to be used in such primitive means however, but more out of overall neglect over the years of eating crystallized Energon and chewing on objects in a nervous habit. This worked all fine and dandy though. If his teeth made contact? Fabulous! He would grind down and hold on like some kind of spited dog. If he missed? Well... he could always try again if Breakdown was still in range.

[Breakdown]

     Breakdown had successfully punched the floor and after that it was just waiting for momentum to run its course. Though Flatline had made a visible attempt to stop himself, the other mech had connected with the fist that the large bruiser had been waiting to greet him with. He had at least been able to slow himself down enough that he hadn't hit it at full force but there was no way that he didn't at least feel some pain from the impact. Honestly, Breakdown would have been surprised if the mech even was able to stand up without some bit of coordination issue. That was all up to him, though. Frankly, it was all wishful thinking for the soldier. 

     There was no reason to assume that the little scuffle wasn't over at that point. He was alright with stepping away and calling it even. That didn't bother him ( Even if there was some part of him that wanted to punch Flatline into the ground ). He would have been alright just taking the scanner and leaving and not even mention the incident to anyone- not even to Knock Out. His partner would have his scanner. He wouldn't have to be here anymore. 

     The scanner was still laying in the same spot, waiting to be collected and returned where it belonged. Breakdown's optic was focused on that and he started to pull his servo from the floor. Flatline could stay on the floor for all he cared. He wouldn't be moving, wouldn't be able to lunge for it again, now after the hit he had taken. All was well. Breakdown would just get the scanner and leave without further incident.     

     Though it seemed as though Flatline had other plans.

     There was a sound of crunching metal and he felt a sudden sting from his servo. His arm wouldn't move, servo locked in place. There was an odd bit of additional weight to his arm that he hadn't expected. When his optic adjusted to see what was going on? It was only to see Flatline latched onto the side of his servo by his sharp denta. 

     'Darn blasted scrap loving piece of...'

     Breakdown could only stare for a moment, trying to register what had just happened. He was used to violent hits out in the field when he was facing down Autobots but he had never really gone up against someone who was supposed to be on HIS side. He could have pushed himself around easily should he have wanted to but that wasn't his game. He much rather just stay off somewhere and be left alone until he was needed to bash in some heads. The fact he had to have this kind of physical push and shove with Flatline had already put him in an awkward position. 

     But now he had BIT him? He'd never been bitten before! Not even by the desperate attempt of an Autobot. Sure, he would have assumed some malfunctioning creature or Insecticon...

     Oh. Well. That definitely adds another drop into the rumor pool.

     "What in the name of the burning pits are you DOING Flatline?! Let go."

     Okay, NOW he wasn't so hesitant on punching the other mech square between the optics. The two had just been pushing their weight around up until this point, but now Flatline had made this stupid move? Oh, he was lucky Breakdown was even able to contain his temper about this. Perhaps it was still some level of bewilderment at what was even going on. Whatever force it was that kept Breakdown from slamming him right into the wall and whatever else the brute got close to Flatline better have been praying to. 

     While Breakdown was unable to transform the bitten servo into his much more appropriate hammers with Flatline's stupid denta dug into one it, but that didn't mean he could use this situation to his advantage, or use the other one should it be needed. If Flatline didn't disengage as Breakdown had demanded, he would next find himself swung into by the other servo which was already formed into a fist and at the ready for a mean punch.

[Flatline]

Victory!

Kinda...

Flatline's teeth slammed down against Breakdowns hand, and he couldn't help but feel a sadistic little pulse of joy at the affront. He knew it could sting a decent amount, and he knew that it could hurt if he extorted enough pressure or managed to get at a joint just right. The only issue was, Breakdown didn’t really react in pain, and more looked at him like he had done something stupid. The other issue was well... now he had a filthy hand in his mouth.

Flatline's lips were pulled back, showing the full extent of his teeth in a snarled expression of distaste and anger, his already harsh and angered features looking downright feral because of this. The leading edge of his helm and the now crinkled shield there, partly covered the top lines of his eyes due to the angle of his helm, making them nothing but thin red slits that glared up at the larger mech. This sneer of anger however faltered a bit, as Breakdown's words, and the reality of the situation started to settle.

Grit, some dust, the overpowering bite of medical cleaners and polish, all woven among the faint specks of Energon and other fluids that would be present in the Medical Bay. The flavors were downright atrocious, and yet he couldn't bring himself to let go right away because of stubbornness and anger. Why did Breakdown have to punch him?! Why did he have to come into his territory and mess with HIS things?! Knock Out had plenty of scanners, and this was just an act to try to clip his wings, an act that did nothing to help the Decepticon cause proceed forward!

Flatline's right primary hand rose up then, the fingers spreading out and crooking into place to lock the joints. His claws were bared, glinting faintly at their sharp edges, ready to slash into him while he was stuck at close range, before Breakdown's fist swung around and clocked him right in the helm. This abruptly ended his attempt of an attack, but it also did punch his helm down and cause his jaws to clench together with far more force due to the brute's contribution.

The punch was brutal to one that didn’t really face them all too often. The crinkled shield on his helm and the swooping bands of black on either side, only further crushed in from the crash, while his teeth felt like they were breaking from the impact slamming his upper dental plates down into Breakdown's hand. This far more forceful bite than he was really designed for, was instantly ended the second the pressure of a fist was wrenched back, and Flatline's helm snapped away.

Stumbling a few paces in retreat from Breakdown, his hooves clattered and clinked to put a fair space between them to try to avoid any further backhands or outbursts of physical violence, ending with his back facing him. It was while he did this, his hands clapped up to cover over his face, weaving together to apply pressure where the strike had hit, and where the pain receptors shrieked in agony. Dapples of blue slid out between his fingers, dripping down to the ground below with soft patters that were brightly illuminated in the subdued lighting of the laboratory.

"Get out..."

Croaked out after a pause, his right hand peeled away from his face. His features would not be visible by the way his back was turned mostly to the other Cybertronian, but what Breakdown could see were the smears of blue that streaked over the scientist' palm in long swaths.

[Breakdown]

     Breakdown had been acting on instinct, almost in the way he assumed Flatline had to have been when he'd bitten his servo. Every action gets a reaction, right? Only Breakdown hadn't meant to cause the damage he did. He had hoped that Flatline would have seen his fist coming and, being a much more agile creature than himself, would have let go and gotten out of the way before any connection would have been made. Or, at least thrown his arms up in some defense to prevent a full impact. But no, Flatline hadn't been that attentive and before Breakdown could have pulled his punch. So the big brute was left with the familiar sensations that came from a successful hit. He had felt the faceplate of the other connect with the solid wall of reinforced metal of his digits. He had heard the crunch of the more delicate metal giving way under the impact. The give was almost like cutting through a still liquid that didn't stand a chance against what he was bringing to the party.

     Still, Flatline was still operational ( in some sense ) so that was at least a positive out of this. Probably the only thing that made it so Flatline was able to walk away from it on his own two pedes was that Breakdown hadn't even been using the full force of a punch. It had just been his servo, clenched in a fist, swinging in an attempt to knock the other one away or scare him into letting go. Just a quick, mindless clobber at close range with no wind up. If it had more meaning behind it or had been his hammer? Well. Flatline would have definitely needed some outside medical assistance and some reconstruction. 

     As Breakdown stood there staring at the back of the scientist he started to feel a little ping of shame. Just a little one, though, and for a decent enough reason. He'd lashed out at one who was supposed to be on HIS side. He'd forgotten for a klik that he had a lot more striking force than most anyone else on this ship outside of Megatron himself. This was supposed to be a simple retrieval of a scanner, which had now turned into something which would probably get him into a pretty deep hole.

     So what did he feel worse about? The fact that he'd actually caused some damage? Or that fact that he was sure Megatron would find out and have a field day making an example out of him?

     Honestly? It was a little bit of both.

     He started to take a step toward Flatline, moving a servo out so he could at least nudge the other to turn around so he could see the damage he'd done, make sure he was alright. He didn't get to get any words out before Flatline's words caught him first. A response didn't come right away because there was something else that Breakdown's yellow optic was focused on. He was staring at the servo that had been pulled away. He saw the blue streaks that lit up against the dark metal of his palm before he'd spotted the drops on the floor.  Even though he couldn't see directly just what sort of injuries there were, he knew that there definitely had to have been a decent amount of damage done. At least enough that energon had been spilled.

     "You moron! I thought you would have gotten out of the way! What good are those wacky little legs of yours if you don't use them to dodge oncoming attacks!" Well, raising his voice wasn't going to make this situation any better. Breakdown didn't like this feeling of weight on his shoulders but he knew he had to at least stay calm or Flatline could turn around and lash at him again. Or make a scene and turn this into a much worse situation. Because it really could have gotten a lot worse. "I didn't mean to hit you that hard, I mean. I can call for Knock Out to come look at that if you want."

     Apologizing was hard. It was difficult to say it to Knock Out, let alone for someone who WASN'T that important to him. At least he was trying! And in some regard he was trying to help ontop of it. Breakdown at least wasn't all bad. ( Sometimes ) He could have just collected the scanner and given Flatline a good 'that'll teach you' toss of advice then left without an afterthought about any of this. 

     Damn. The scanner. 

     For the time being he had completely forgotten about the scanner! This whole thing had started because of that stupid little tool and these two just not being able to get along for any stretch of time. Man, he didn't really know what Knock Out would say. Sure, the red medic had wanted Breakdown to teach him a lesson but he didn't think that he meant like THIS!

      This was a horrible spot to be in. Rock and a hard place, with several tons more about to come crashing down.