[ti]Ep 2[/ti]Drop-pod crash! [Open]

[Knock Out]

Things were slow today.

Then again, when weren't they lately? The only thing that Knock Out got to do around here these days was the same old maintenance on Vehicon after Vehicon. It was routine. It was repetitive, and it was boring. The only real thing of interest today was that Breakdown had been acting a little weird – something about where he was yesterday. Knock Out hadn't paid him too much attention, nor had he really questioned Breakdown's sudden love for the wash racks.

That's where he assumed his partner had been today. It was only when more time had passed than what could be considered normal did he realize this may not be the case. Still, he didn't think much of it. Breakdown didn't only act as Knock Out's assistant, no... He was big enough that sometimes he was sent planet-side to oversee things or to act as muscle for whatever he was needed for. Part of him missed that – it wasn't so long ago that he and Breakdown were sent to Earth together to run errands together, or for scouting. But ever since MECH...?

Sigh.

Still, Breakdown could've told him where he was. He'd all but vanished! Unlike his partner, Knock Out hadn't heard the original comm sent from the newcomer and so hadn't been able to put two and two together that hey, maybe Breakdown went to check it out.

He wasn't worried, and would continue on with his day. Vehicon after Vehicon would file into the room at a steady pace and he'd check them over before sending them on their way. This went so much faster with Breakdown around, but he did manage to keep things moving without him. A few asked about Breakdown's whereabouts, and Knock Out would merely shrug in response.

There was a soft crackle, before Breakdown's voice was heard over his comm. Ahhh. So he had been off ship... Alright.

::Mm? I was wondering where you'd gotten to. New arrival, hm? Interesting.:: He replied coolly. He didn't sound annoyed, and if his tone was anything to go by? He seemed to be in a good mood.

He'd move to the far side of the room and would retrieve a mesh cloth to wipe down his servos. Thankfully Breakdown and the newcomer didn't keep him waiting too long, and the door slid open moments later – the first one through being the femme.

The first thing she'd notice was how well lit it was in here compared to the rest of the dark and gloomy ship. There was a smell that seemed to linger – as with most places that needed a sterile environment, it smelt overly clean. Knock Out was more than used to the smell but he knew most others could find it rather unpleasant or unsettling. Everything was spotless, including the Medic himself. There were cabinets on almost every wall, a small decontamination shower in the far corner, and lots of medical berths – all of which were empty save one, which had a Vehicon sprawled on it with various wires hooked up to a diagnostics machine.

Knock Out would remain quiet a moment, gaze lingering on her as if he was scrutinizing her from afar. Interesting color choices, and... Interesting alt-mode from all accounts. There was a slight incline of his helm as if he was working out just exactly what her choice of alt-mode was. It was no bother, he'd be able to work that out soon enough – as he assumed she was here for a checkup before being sent on her way.

“Greetings. Chief Medical Officer Knock Out at your assistance.” He'd flash her a charming smile, setting the mesh cloth down beside him and folding his arms across his chassis. “I hope Breakdown has been treating you well?”

[Sparkplug]

It had been quite a while since Sparkplug had travelled far from her research enclave. The clean, open spaces of her communal lab had become very familiar to her, and the slightly worn giant monitor where she and her collaborators sketched, planned and argued was something of an old friend. It had taken a lot to shake her out of the routine of centuries, and perhaps nothing short of Optimus Prime announcing his location in his own voice could have done it. Even so, once yanked out of her rut, she'd been pretty excited to hit the spaceways and see new ships, planets - to finally stretch her wheels and get some use out of her engine for once.

Naturally, she'd ended up scavenging a ride from a tiny organic race, not much bigger than Earth's inhabitants, leaving her sat on her aft, arms around her knees, trying to ignore how greasy, filthy and just all-around decrepit the ship was. In her less optimistic moods, as she awkwardly wedged herself into a different position, she roughed out the odds of the ship reaching its destination as seven in ten, at best.

Then there was the pod. The pod had been exciting. But not the kind of exciting she'd enjoyed. In a final act of spite, it had dumped her into a vast expanse of hot grit; one of the lousiest spots on the planet, if Breakdown was to be believed.

Which brought her, at last, to here: a spacious lab, filled with bright lights, clean, tidy surfaces, the faint smell of disinfectant - all the things necessary for working on the delicate mechanisms of Cybertronian bodies. Then there was the polished, sleek grounder, who greeted her in a marvellous cultured drawl. This was better.

Breakdown had suggested she compliment him, and there were a lot of things she could compliment the cherry red mech on. The organisation of the space, the obvious work that had been put into its maintenance, the efficiency of the layout. So naturally, the first thing she blurted was, "Hot scrap, would you look at the finish on you? Did you do that paintwork yourself? You could perform microsurgery in that reflection!"

Sparkplug grinned sheepishly, and shook her helm. This wasn't the time to get flustered. "Or - right. What I mean is, hello. Sparkplug. Research officer, weapons development. Just hit the ground, and I do mean hit, like a meteor. Frankly amazed the whole pod didn't burn up in the atmosphere. But yeah, Breakdown picked me up, got me out of the desert, and into something like civilisation, and I'm forever grateful. He's been really helpful. Sure been singing your praises, too, it's good to meet you."

[Breakdown]

     Breakdown snorted some as he entered the medical bay behind the femme, catching Knock Out's question in regards to how he was treating her. It wasn't him that there needed to be concern with, but at least the good thing was that this new arrival had come in on a day when Knock Out was in a good mood or else there may have been complaints stemming from one thing or another.

     The compliments that Sparkplug was giving his partner were helpful as well. He didn't care if it was because of his instruction that she had stated them, because either way they were true. Knock Out did have the best finish and most pristine paint job the soldier had ever run across, and he had seen more than his fair share of haughty mechs that didn't carry the beauty or skill of the medic to have any justification to their attitude. Knock Out was different. That could have been a biased opinion.

     The dark blue mech made his way over to where the Vehicon was situated on the berth just as the last portion of Sparkplug's words caught his audials. He huffed some out of embarrassment but that was quickly able to be covered up the next klik by him tripping over an empty supply box that hadn't been there before. He was able to at least catch himself so he didn't fall flat on his faceplate and he turned to look at the inanimate object with a bit of a glare. 

     "Knock Out! You know that I don't do well when you put things in my way that I can't see." In his defense the box had been on the side of his patched optic so no, he hadn't really seen it so his trip over it had actually been an accident. He leaned over and picked it up to set it out of the way, making a mental note of where it was as not to repeat the mishap again, then returned on his route to the Vehicon. Once there he proceeded to look over the stats of the patient then went to the console to pick up a datapad so he could update it with the readouts.

[Knock Out]

Knock Out could only blink as Sparkplug came right out with the compliments, and his lips would curve into a smirk.

“Careful, my dear. There is such a thing as trying too hard.” He chuckled, before curling one servo and splaying his fingers across his chassis. “You aren't wrong, though,” He purred, the smirk softening into a warm smile. “I do look absolutely amazing, if I do say so myself. Someone has to around here!”

He'd lower his arm, resting his servos on his hips. His gaze wandered to Breakdown for a moment, but then shifted back to Sparkplug.

“Weapons development, mm?” His interest was piqued. “I dabble in that myself from time to time. Glad to see you're in one piece after crash landing. Others aren't always so lucky.” His optics would narrow into a squint then as he looked her over a little closer, although he didn't make motions of stepping closer to her. “You are alright, I assume?” At first glance she looked no worse for wear, and he assumed Breakdown had just brought her here for a quick checkup – as was protocol for newcomers arriving to the ship.

“Has he, now?” He couldn't help but smile as she mentioned Breakdown. “Well - he's not so bad himself! It's lovely to meet you too, though. If you'd like to make your way over to on one of the empty berths, I can give you a quick look over before sending-” He cut off as there was a thud behind him that made him flinch. “-You on your way...”

He hadn't been paying attention to what his partner was doing, figuring he'd settle back in and get back to work, so the sudden noise from behind him of Breakdown tripping over made him jump, and he'd swivel around on a heel to frown at the big blue mech as he was accused so openly in front of the newcomer!

“You could always look where you're going, Breakdown. You do have one functional optic, after all – and I've suggested many a time to get the other one fixed, but you have none of it!” He tsk'd softly, shaking his helm. While he didn't push the topic quite so often these days, and had grown used to the optic-patch? Occasionally he did gently bring up the topic of getting the other optic fixed. It never went well.

Honestly it was both of their faults. Knock Out for leaving the box there, and Breakdown for not watching where he was going. The cherry-red Medic was usually good at putting things away, but after having to run things by himself for most of the day? He could be forgiven for forgetting one little tiny thing!

With a soft vent of a sigh, he'd swivel back to smile apologetically at Sparkplug.

“Sorry about that. I'll have him move it in a moment to get it out of our way. Now, after you, my dear!”

[Sparkplug]

Sparkplug's field flickered with embarrassment at Knock Out's gentle chiding of her blurted words, suddenly wondering if he knew that Breakdown told visitors to compliment him, and thought she was being insincere. Which she definitely wasn't, of course. She relaxed, however, as he smiled at her, and her slightly tensed wheels settled again.

He really was very charming. It had been a while since she'd met any mecha that had made her feel so effortlessly welcome, and she couldn't help but smile in return. All the same, he was asking a good question, and she glanced down at herself questioningly. She felt okay, but she had undergone a fairly severe impact. It was probably a good idea to check that nothing had gotten jarred loose.

She was forestalled from answering, however, by the crash of Breakdown stumbling over a crate. She blinked, watching their exchange with an owlish expression of curiosity. They talked like - oh, old colleagues, ones that had long gotten past the niceties of politeness. If Knock Out had been nagging him to get his optic fixed, and he'd demurred, then she was definitely right to have not talked about doing something more interesting with it. Probably a sensitive subject.

Rather than comment on the stumble, she - for once - chose discretion instead. Walking over to one of the berths, she sat down, and swung herself up on top of it, lying back and letting her mismatched arms settle by her sides. Lifting her helm a little to make it easier to address Knock Out, she replied as if the whole stumble hadn't happened, "I'd sure appreciate a proper looking over. Honestly, I hit the ground pretty darn hard. Retros kicked up hard at the last, spreading out the impact, but there might be some kind of deceleration damage in there somewhere, if I wasn't lucky. Haven't used my vehicle mode much in a long time, too - got a brand new alt-mode - so that's another thing to take a glance over. Feels alright, but-" she shrugged, "-that might not prove anything."

Her freshly reconfigured chassis still bore traces of having just adopted a new alt-mode, subtle readjustments yet underway in her delicate internal systems. The heart of her new vehicular form was a tuned up 5.7L Chevrolet V8, pushing out 370 bhp or so, mounted between her twin rear axles, pouring power into her front and foremost set of rear wheels, and leaving the last pair unpowered. Aside from the terran alt-mode's influence, however, her whole body was marked by the long-term signs of tweaking and altering, nowhere more evident than her left arm assembly.

Studded with retracted heatsinks and riddled with energy conduits more appropriate to a heavy mecha, the bulk of her lengthened arm was packed with energy concentrators and lensing equipment, designed to wring every last erg of destructive energy out of her internal energy converters - themselves modified for higher burst output. The nozzles of the retro-blast apparatus in her shoulder, obviously designed to flare off a blast to counter-act heavy recoil, bore mute witness to the level of anticipated output from the weapon's business end.

Once past that rather excessive cannon, it might be less of a surprise than it otherwise would be to find the more modest twin rotary pulse cannons embedded in her torso, and the two by four racks of micro-missiles lurking beneath the large rectangular headlights mounted on her shoulders. Considering her light armour, Sparkplug seemed to have no business being as riddled with weaponry as she in fact was.

[Breakdown]

     "I've never done well when you've move stuff around, even when I had TWO functioning optics. Don't you start blaming that." The scuffle was over now and after he had said what he wanted to to vent his frustration at the smaller mech, it was over and he was now hard at work.

     It had been the cause of some early fights of theirs when they had first been working together, after the initial 'I hate you and you hate me and I want to through you out of a window and hope you hit something sharp when you finally touch the ground' mess, that is. Breakdown's processor was always working double duty because of the paranoia he dealt with so he systematically mapped out his familiar areas and safe zones so he could be comfortable and let himself calm down instead of being on edge. When Knock Out moved something that messed up his stashed memory of the space and meant that he had to redo it each time, and then when that thing was moved he would need to fix it again.

     From time to time the medic would place an item in a new space or just not put it back where it belonged so Breakdown would have OCD triggers and right away have to sort things out and organize everything again. It kept the space clean and gave a place for everything but it was certainly a pain. Most of the time Knock Out just handed stuff off to him so he could place it himself, but there was once in a while when he didn't. This was one such case, and that crate? That was a strike to his pysche that didn't show as he went on working on the Vehicon's basic check up, though internally there was a nasty conflict going on and reworking of layouts. 

     He kept to himself as he worked, not daring to interrupt the medic and his patient. He was in his typical 'seen but not heard' mode, but he would always keep an audial out in case his partner needed his assistance with something. 

[Knock Out]

While Sparkplug moved over to one of the berths, Knock Out would make his way across the room to one of the many cabinets along the far wall. The fact she was still walking and talking after crash-landing to Earth was a very good sign, but one could never be too careful with things like that – and he intended to give her a thorough check over, just incase. He'd open a drawer, pulling out a handheld scanner.

Breakdown's reply made him tsk softly and roll his optics, although his expression would be unseen as he was still facing the cabinet, his attention on the scanner as long, delicate digits would power on the device and type in a few things. It blipped in confirmation and he seemed satisfied enough, swiveling on his heels to face the rest of the room.

“Well, you hardly gave me chance to move it before you came in here and tripped over the silly thing – feel free to move it wherever you'd like, though.” Came the droll reply to his partner. He wasn't in the mood to argue over a box, especially infront of a newcomer. He'd been around Breakdown long enough to know better, but at the end of the day? The big blue mech was perfectly capable of being extra cautious and looking out for himself. He didn't need his servo held through everything – and Knock Out didn't have the time for that, even if he did!

His demeanor would perk up as he turned back to Sparkplug, making his way over to the medical berth – all smiles again now.

“And a looking over you shall get!” He chuckled as he moved to stand beside her, setting down the handheld scanner on a nearby bench. “The general diagnostics machine should tell us if there's anything wrong, but I'll give you a once over with the smaller one as well – just incase.” He winked at that, and took her right arm and gently turned it before easing out a small, thin wire from the crook of her elbow. It wouldn't hurt in any way, and was a simple innocuous line used for diagnostics and other exchanges of information. “Hold still a moment...” he murmured as he leant across to plug the wire into the machine beside the berth, which blipped to life and it didn't take long for various readings and glyphs to start scrolling down the screen, along with basic vital signs.

“I must say, your choice in alt-mode is... Interesting, if what I'm seeing here is correct.” He hummed in thought as he looked at the screen as the various readouts appeared, shifting his servos to his hips. He was judging her, just a little bit. Okay, quite a lot – although his tone wouldn't show it. He did have some tact and manners, and would remain polite until she was no longer in the room, anyway. The Decepticons seemed to favor fliers, which was all well and good, but there were so many beautiful ground based vehicles – and he was evidence enough of that – and yet she'd picked something truly odd and so totally out of the norm. “I do approve of the choice in color scheme, however. Always refreshing to see some actual color in this dreary place.” He'd give a genuine smile after that comment.

“So, a Research Officer, mm?” He'd make small-talk as the machine ran and did its thing. “I assume this is the first place you've been to since arriving on the Nemesis, correct? As in – you haven't been told where to go or who to report to?” He wasn't sure who to send her to, really, once all this was done. The weapon design part of her job was Starscream's territory, but the Research side of things sounded more like science and working for Shockwave. Perhaps the two could go hand in hand somehow. Still, the idea that another was around who dabbled with Weapon Design was exciting, maybe on the slower days they could bounce ideas... Of course, that'd depend on who she ends up working under, anyway. 

[Sparkplug]

Sparkplug frowned slightly, curious, at Breakdown's assertion that he'd been liable to have difficulty with changing environments before these MECH organics had taken one of his optics. Did he have some kind of visual processing problem? She'd heard of a few bots that had had difficulty getting a clear visual field even when their optics were perfectly fine, and had the problem traced to their signal processing clusters - much harder to treat. Maybe Breakdown's single optic was actually working out better for him than two had?

Knock Out distracted her from that line of speculation, approaching with a hand scanner to compliment the one built into the bed. Thorough. She nodded approvingly at that; when it came to testing the proper functioning of a whole mecha, two separate and redundant systems were better than one.

"That's right, Breakdown here brought me straight to you. Makes sense, really. You want to be sure I'm not going to suddenly short out, or start dripping energon all over your nice clean deck, before you send me off to make any reports. Got no idea who I might end up reporting to, honestly, other than maybe Shockwave." Her tone indicated her trepidation with that notion, and she glanced up at the ceiling as though the one-eyed mech might hear her. "Might be that I end up working on things adjacent to your line of work, at least. Got some weapon design experience, I hear, though I guess you're usually too busy with the medical side to get into the fun stuff."

Letting her helm sink back down to rest against the bed as the scanner moved towards her faceplate, she went on, "Not really had time to pick up what the norms are, for vehicular modes here on this busy little cyber-termite hive of a planet. Pretty happy with the one I happened across, though. I'm used to having six propulsive units, and it handled the loose grit and rough gravel of the scrubby patch of nowhere I landed in pretty well. Might take myself out for a spin later, get used to the way the drivetrain feels."

She paused, then added wryly, "Not seen all that much of the ship so far, but from what I have seen, seems like I'm the only white-painted thing on board. Not seen much in the way of green, either, everything's so darn dark and gloomy. This ship was definitely at the far end of the spaceport when interior lighting was handed out."

[Breakdown]

     Breakdown grumbled under his breath, mostly to himself and softly enough that he wouldn't be overheard. 

     The two were chatting now so it meant that Breakdown was to exclude himself from the conversation- try not to be seen, definitely not be heard. He briefly heard his designation being spoken by the newcomer but once the rest of it started up and he figured out he wasn't being called he returned to work. Once he was done with the datapad updates he went to work on that silly little crate that had been left in the way. He knew his partner- he may have blamed him for not being given enough time to move it, but Breakdown knew damn well that Knock Out would have never intended to get it out of the way. It would have sat there for an extended period of time until Breakdown got tired of looking at it and moved it himself. So he did that now.

     He lifted the crate up and moved it to an unoccupied bench then started to sort through. It was more supplies, replacements of those that had been used. These were limited, as were the usual ones, so it was just more things they had to be mindful about using. He started to put things away one bit at a time, taking out everything from equipment to medical supplies. Some of the things were probably given to them by the Autobots, some perhaps created by Shockwave, others maybe found in storage and thrown at them to be put to use. It didn't matter, really... everything was useful to them in these times.

     So while the two stroked one another's ego and dilly-dallied, Breakdown went to his work of mindless tasks that he pretty much ran on auto pilot now. He'd done his part and gotten the newbie, now it was up to Knock Out to give her the clean bill of health before he could find out if he had to give her the tour as well or have her left to her own curiosity. 

[Knock Out]

Knock Out didn't understand Breakdown sometimes. The big blue mech had been without his optic for some time now, and he'd had more than enough time to get used to life with only one. Usually he was fine – and for someone so big? He moved with a certain grace that even Knock Out could admire, especially when he was fighting. His missing optic didn't slow him down, if anything, Knock Out wondered if it helped him aim better - although he couldn't be sure of that.

Yet when it came to the mundane... The day to day tasks here in the Medical Bay? Breakdown sometimes seemed to be at a loss. Maybe because it was more... Intimate? In the way that it was usually just the two of them, save for Vehicons and others who came to be looked at for routine repairs and maintenance. He always seemed to get upset faster over his errors while they were inside – no doubt due to the fact his mistakes and clumsiness due to his optic were that much more pronounced and obvious out in the open of an enclosed room, rather than out on the battlefield where he could turn them to his favor.

Then again he had been right in a way, even when he had two functioning optics he was still clumsy at times – it was probably hard not to be though when you were as big as he was. He'd always been that way though - clumsy, that is – although he had gotten better at not crashing over things when he'd realized that Knock Out wasn't putting up with it.

At least Breakdown had gone quiet now, and seemed to be getting on with moving the crate.

“Mm, like I said – I only really dabble these days. Nothing too official, I simply don't have the time.” He vented out a sigh, keeping his attention on Sparkplug rather than Breakdown and what he was doing. “Your best bet would be to seek out Starscream first, though. Weapon design and military are his area of expertise – that's who I talk to in regards to that line of work, at any rate.”

He shrugged his shoulders gently.

“It would be interesting to see if he'd have us work on anything together.” He smiled at the thought, although the likelihood of that happening was rare. “That being said, even if we don't? If you do ever need anything from the Medical Bay, equipment or the like, please feel free to ask...” He clicked his tongue, thinking. “There's nothing ruder than people barging in here to borrow whatever they want without asking.” He wouldn't name names, but there was a certain mediocre black and red 'Medic' that he had in mind as he spoke.

He'd keep an optic on the diagnostics screen and its display. He could wait for the data to be transferred over to a datapad so he could read it in full, but honestly there was so little wrong that there wasn't a whole lot to read as the glyphs and text scrolled down the screen. Everything seemed good – for someone who crash landed? She can't have landed very hard, or at the very least? She was very lucky. Everything seemed level and normal in terms of vitals, and nothing was standing out as horribly wrong.

“Well, I can say that your choice of alt mode will certainly turn a few heads.” He smirked, “But as long as you're happy with it, that's the main thing.” He was still judging her horribly for it – but not everyone was as prissy as he, and picked things that served a function rather than for looks. “Maybe Breakdown could take you out sometime.” He mused, almost like it was an absent minded thought that'd slipped out. “Poor guy doesn't get out much.” Okay so he'd been at the Neutral Base yesterday, hence the weird obsession with the washracks, but that wasn't exactly somewhere fun. He wasn't like Knock Out who left the Nemesis often to go driving – understandably, after MECH he stayed mostly on board the Nemesis - and maybe it'd be good for him to get out and drive over some dirt or something!

“You're definitely the most eye-catching thing on board. Well, no, I am-” He laughed, “-But you'll stand out for sure against our lovely décor.” He made a mental note to pay extra attention while buffing his finish later, just so that others would look at him first rather than the bright newcomer. “If you do ever want to join the masses and opt for something darker like a ravishing Vehicon Purple to fit in, I can do that for you. It'd suit you.” That sounded more like a suggestion, rather than an offer.

There was a final, louder beep from the diagnostics machine that played for a second or two longer than the other little random blips of confirmation, and Knock Out would remove the wire from the machine, swiftly plugging it then into the smaller, hand-held scanner.

“This one will take a little longer, but I don't think it'll be too bad – I'm not seeing anything wrong after the first pass over.” And with that, he would slowly begin moving the scanner over Sparkplug, the scanner occasionally beeping – although Knock Out's expression would remain neutral.

[Sparkplug]

Lying back and listening to the scanner bleep calmly, Sparkplug let Knock Out's words wash over her. Certainly, there didn't seem to be much to worry about with regard to her own chassis, and mentally, she reluctantly retracted a few of the more virulent curses she'd thrown at the pod. It certainly seemed to have done its job, even if it had been a smoking, blind, malfunctioning ruin by the time the dust had settled.

In fact, if there was anything to be raised regarding her chassis, it seemed to be centred on aesthetic pickiness about her colouration and alt-mode. She didn't have a lot of good things to say about her time with the Autobots - she remembered it as a time of ceaseless frustration and a slow grinding down of her spirit, culminating in an ultimate betrayal - but if there was one thing to be said, it was that they'd never complained about her paint choices.

"Purple? Me, purple?" she questioned, then shook her helm. "Wouldn't know what to do with purple. Been this colour since before the war, since forever, more or less. White's a nice, clean colour. Not got your finish, mind you. That must take some serious work."

A movement of Breakdown's arm caught her attention, and she glanced over at the monocular mech before looking back up at the ceiling, trying to stay relatively still for the scanning. Go out driving with Breakdown? Well, she supposed she could, though she'd far rather take in some sunlight and a smooth road with someone more talkative and cultured, like the medic himself. Every single question or probe she'd thrown at Breakdown had been flatly rebuffed, and that sort of thing didn't make for a fun conversational partner. She threw out a noncommittal, "Could do. Bound to want to get out of this flying armoury and try out the surface a bit more, somewhere civilised. Y'know, eventually. Should probably get settled in, first. Bound to be things for me to do."

Starscream. Commander Starscream, the second in command of the Decepticon army. Knock Out had dropped his designation pretty casually, without even a title. Maybe the Chief Medical Officer - so the medic to Megatron, at least while he was aboard the Nemesis - had more sway than she might have imagined. "You think I should go and see Commander Starscream, soon? I guess I can, if he'd be wanting to see a researcher like me. Wouldn't want to waste his time."

Her optics flicked around the medical bay again, more assessingly. "Still, if he's gonna be steering my work, I guess that makes sense. Definitely be fun to knock together a few prototypes with you, if you're ever not busy with the parade of malfunctioning mecha with excuse notes not to go to battle today. I sure do appreciate the offer of equipment, got to say. I can knock together a lot of things, but some tools, you either have to have a full-blown micro manufacturing facility, or you just need to snag one from someplace else. Not to worry; you won't ever see me touching anything of yours that you don't give me permission to. That'd be plain rude to get in some mech's space and handle their things."

[Breakdown]

Breakdown was busying himself with his task, not paying too much mind to the other two. Some of the things they had were able to replace some of the things that were broken? It wasn't everything. Knock Out still had his scanners and the likes but as far as some of the laser scalpels went? They would have to be replaced at some point since he didn't think repairing them would do much good anymore. Repairing things cost them time and supplies that he didn't think was a good idea to just throw away as if they were always going to be on hand.

Frankly, it was better to either tune out completely or pay full attention to the conversation, which he learned the moment that he decided to eavesdrop on what was being said. Mostly it was because he heard Knock Out speak his designation so out of habit he would pay him mind just in case it was the Medic requesting his assistance with something. However, this time? It was just to catch the tail end of what had been said about 'he could take you out sometime'.

Take who out? Sparkplug? Cruising? But that was something that was saved for he and Knock Out.

Now, Breakdown was a rather simple mech, and simple things meant that he pieced things together with A and B to get C. A was 'going out for joyrides with Knock Out' ( though it was more of making sure he didn't do anything stupid while he was breaking the rules of their commander ), and B was 'that is their way of spending alone time'. Now the C was 'alone time with Knock Out', in their own secretive way of just getting time when it was the two of them and no one was around to bother them. Last time it had been them looking at the stars, and another had been watching the sunrise.

So this made something fracture in his processor. Taking Knock Out from the equation and replacing it with Sparkplug? And KNOCK OUT was suggesting it? Was this some sort of way to push him off on someone else? That Knock Out didn't want to be troubled with him anymore?

Another drop, this time of the tools in his servos. Only that time he didn't bother to pick it up and instead made his way out of the medical bay with a rather loud sound that was oddly similar to that of a feral growl.

THE NERVE...

[Knock Out]

“Mm? Shame, I think it'd be flattering. Your choice, though – you know where I am if you ever change your mind.” He smiled, although didn't take his gaze off the scanner. “As for my finish, it does – it's more than worth it, though, if you didn't notice.” He purred smugly. It was a joint effort, of course, but he wouldn't brag about Breakdown's skills with a buffer – at least not yet; it didn't seem like the time nor place.

He'd continue on with the scanner, his expression not giving anything away if there was indeed something wrong.

He'd honestly suggested Breakdown to take her planet-side because... Well, with six wheels? She was probably built for off-roading, which was so totally not Knock Out's thing. Breakdown however? Loved that stuff! Flat roads were all so boring to him, or at least Knock Out could only assume as much. Breakdown hadn't actually ever complained, but he was trying to do his partner a favor here – he was giving him a free pass to go driving around in dirt! Knock Out got to leave the ship whenever to go racing, so it was only fair that he let Breakdown get out and about sometimes too. Breakdown was so friendly that he went out of his way to check up on Vehicons and seemed to enjoy conversing witht hem about little things, so surely he'd have fun talking to someone who had just arrived here on Earth, he'd be able to help her feel more welcome - not to mention hear stories as to where she'd been all this time!

He'd gently click his tongue at her response. That seemed like an overly polite way of saying 'thanks but no thanks', and he'd half-open his mouth to reply when there was a clatter of tools from behind him – although even then, he didn't turn to look.

“Breakdown, I've told you countless times to be more caref-” His words tapered off as the sound of the door opening was heard, paired with a low growl from the big blue mech. Primus, what now? He had no idea what was going through Breakdown's processor, and so could only assume he'd taken her words a little too seriously. Either way, his partner seemed annoyed by something – and his reaction to whatever it was, was concerning. Only once he heard the door did he cast a glance over his shoulder.

“Breakdown...” He vented out a sigh, shaking his helm. His words fell on deaf audials it seemed, as Breakdown marched with purpose out of the room. He'd have to deal with that later, as he couldn't just leave Sparkplug laying here mid-checkup! He just hoped Breakdown went to their quarters and didn't trash the place in the meantime.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Knock Out would shrug, turning back to Sparkplug and his work.

“Wonder what that was about.” He'd murmur, tapping a button or two on the scanner, making it blip a couple of times. “Not to worry, he's like this lately so don't take it personally.” He just put it down to the truce making Breakdown a little moody, and would follow it up later.

“As for your question, mm – yes – Starscream would probably be the best one to report to for now. If only because he'd be easier to find – Shockwave keeps himself locked in his lab doing who even knows what.”

He noticed her peering around the Medical Bay, and would follow her gaze briefly before another beep from the scanner drew his attention back. “Agreed – it'll be nice to have a likeminded individual on board. Even if we don't get to work together on an actual project, bouncing ideas is always fun – and I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to chat.” He'd roll his shoulders some, before unplugging the scanner – leaning forward to tuck the wire back into the crook of her elbow, then sidestepping to plug the scanner into one of the nearby datapads. “This should only take a moment longer and then I'll let you go, what I'm seeing is looking good though. No errors or anything of note popping up that needs to be looked at. You're lucky. I know I said this would take a little longer, but even with the in depth scan, it's breezing through as there's nothing wrong at all.”

He chuckled.

“Also, glad you are of the same mindset that it's rude to borrow without asking. There are those on the ship who aren't quite so polite – so just be sure to keep an optic on your things once you're situated wherever it is they put you.”

He wouldn't name names – not yet, anyway – although he did have half a mind to warn her, given she would probably be working alongside Flatline, who was enemy number one when it came to taking things without asking. If he took from someone of rank, he'd probably have no issue taking things from someone below or equal to him.

[Sparkplug]

The clatter of Breakdown's tool bouncing off the deck was a sharp interruption to Sparkplug's gradual relaxation, her internal vitals giving a brief spike of activity as she jumped slightly. The low snarl as he stalked out of the room left her in no doubt that for one reason or another, the blue mech was not happy.

Sparkplug opened her mouth to comment on his abrupt departure, but Knock Out swept the topic away smoothly, and she decided to go along with the change of subject. All the same, she made a mental note to be wary around Breakdown for a while. Something had gotten him pretty unhappy, and without the faintest idea what it was, it was better to be careful. Some mechs had ways of expressing displeasure that got a little rough, and the last thing she wanted was to have a fight at her new posting.

Settling back against the diagnostic bed again, she willed herself to put the incident aside. Instead, she smiled up at the cherry-red mech, patting her own plating where he'd allowed the elbow cable to retract. "Looks like I have to take back a lot of angry things I said about the pod construction. It broke open when it hit the ground, and did a pretty good job of scaring the spark out of me on the way down, but it did the job where it counted."

As he finished up his scan, Sparkplug pushed her upper body up a bit, propping herself on her right elbow. "Thanks for giving me the once over, I appreciate it. Means I can relax a bit, now. Especially now I'm around my own kind, with a bit of headroom. Ugh, that cargo bay." She shook her helm. "Chief medical officer on the flagship of the Decepticon fleet, huh? That's a heck of a posting. How'd you end up here?"

Her green optics bright in her pale grey faceplate, she went on, "I mean, did you turn up after the big broadcast got intercepted, or have you been around for the long haul? Seen much fighting here? Before the truce shut things down, obviously. Still can't believe that's a thing." A thought struck her, and she added more slowly, "I guess that being the CMO here makes you the personal physician for - you know. The Warlord. Unless he's got his own. What's he like to serve under, really? Y'know, at the sharp end."

[Breakdown]

     Breakdown didn't understand why Knock Out's words bothered him as much as they did. Usually the medic could say pretty much whatever he wanted and it wouldn't be anything more than water under the bridge. Now? Now it seemed to just get under his frame and really make the energon in his linees boil. He wasn't used to being so overly sensitive about those sorts of things since it was just the norm for his partner, but something... just didn't feel right. And it was a good thing he got out of there before he'd heard the rest of Knock Out's words or else there may have been much more damage done to the medical bay than what had been. 

     He's getting sick of you, just like all the others.

     No sooner had the doors to the facility closed than he heard that annoying voice in the back of his processor again. He'll replace you, you'll see. I told you that he wasn't going to stick around forever. Why do you think he flirts so much now? He's not afraid of people seeing anymore. He'll out the secrets and you'll be tossed out of the nearest airlock for your defect.

     'Why are you here? I thought I told you to shut up.'

     Oh Breakdown... you know I'm the only constant in your pathetic life. When everyone else turned you away and left you for dead, I was the one who was there to keep you company. I thought we had something special.

     'Special? Yeah, in that 'I want to tear out my own audials so I don't have to hear you anymore' sort of way.'

     Now now, you know better than that. Tearing out your audials won't silence me.

     'What do you even want? You've been pretty quiet for a while. Why are you bothering me now?'

     I've always been here, Breakdown... observing, taking notes, and waiting for the opportunity to talk sense into you. You refuse to see what's infront of your own optics. Well, OPTIC, as in singular. How's that been working out for you anyway?

     Breakdown let out an aggressive exhale that mixed with the growl of annoyance, which was noticed by a pair of Vehicons who were passing him by in the hallway. They paused to look at him as if concerned they had done something but he simple offered them a half-sparked smile and nodded his helm to them. "No no, that's not you. Um. Carry on, good work." He lowered his helm and picked up the pace a little, just wanting to get back to their quarters before he ran into someone else. The Vehicons were one thing, but accidentally sounding off to King Heels, Cyclops or Faceless would be a different story that he really didn't want to get into.

     Once he reached the door he typed in the code and slid in sideways before it had even fully opened. He punched the keypad inside with the side of his servo to close it then stood there in the dark for a moment or two, just staring off into space...