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Hot Spot First Aid Chains Nightstar Blades

The Red Guardian Inn is quiet in the middle of first shift- open for business to catch trade from neutrals coming into the city and the occasional 'Bot who has the cycle off, but mostly, things are quiet. Hot Spot is sitting at the bar with the data pad, reading and re-reading the data that Aid tagged for him- and occasionally re-playing the video and sound files.

"It's a lot to take in, isn't it?" First Aid says, pulling out the stool next to him and leaning against it.

Chains makes his way in. This isn't his usual drinking spot - the mini would really much prefer Cubicron for that, but he has to be around Iacon now and then, and he knows some of the neutrals. He was chatting with a couple of them he knows from the not-so-old-days on the way in, pausing near the door to cast an optic around the place.

Hot Spot almost startles when First Aid speaks; he hadn't realized he had company "Yes, yes it is," he says. He turns the data pad off and lays it face down on the bar. He smiles in a way he hopes is friendly, but comes off a little worried. "Would you like a drink?"

First Aid nods with a small smile. "Sure- but I thought you might like to look around Iacon. I've only been here a few months, but I know where pretty much everything is, and I have a free shift while Blades is recharging. I'd be happy to show you around."

Chains takes note of the few people around... one of them a medic. Bleh... last people he wants to see when he doesn't have to... mostly so dry and boring... the connection with Lifeline may help a little... but only a little. The mini heads for one of the tables, not too far from the bar, settling in to keep an eye on the comings and goings.

Hot Spot nods. "Sounds good," he says. "This is my first trip to Iacon... Which, well, you already know." He can't help but glance at the blank data pad; he'd like to ask First Aid if he can see Blades, maybe, some time. But like yesterday, he isn't certain how to phrase requests, or even if it's appropriate for him to ask.

First Aid smiles a little bit more broadly. "Did you already refuel, or do you want to go now?" He pushes the stool he was sitting on back in, leans over the chair to push a shaker of some sort of metal shavings back into line with a few other items sitting on the bar, and stands up again. "I may have to go back to the med bay at some point, but someone will comm me if Blades wakes up."

Shark walks into the bar, his reattached arm looking none the worse for wear considering the battle damage the mech took. He strikes over to the bar and nods to the barkeep, "Feeling like a white energon, don't spare the high grade." the youth notes.

Entering the bar, Nightstar puts her data pad away before she's caught again. It was technically her day off. She walks over to the bar and nods at Shark before ordering herself a drink.

Before you stands twelve feet of Autobot in dark purple, sky blue, and white. Her upper arms are sky blue and are rounded off at the inner sides and back, the front portion curved. Her upper torso, which consists of her front end assembly of her car mode is dark purple. The front window section is squared and curved. Her face seems average and easy on the eyes; the optic band is circular in shape and a light blue. Her waist is white. Her lower legs and lower arms are sky blue. Her upper legs and feet, which consists of her rear end assembly in car mode, is dark purple. The Autobot symbol is emblazoned on her upper right arm.

Chains calls over to Shark, amusedly, "They got actual high grade stuff here? No wonder you're on this side." he calls, then notes Nightstar and her data pad. "Hey gorgeous." he calls towards the medic. "Long time, no see."

Although he hadn't noticed Chains, Hot Spot does notice the Autobot who's wandered in and is propping up the bar. He tries not to stare, and only partially succeeds, his mind going off on a little tangent about what daring and heroic adventures the mech might have been part of. He doesn't pay any attention to Chains calling over, but thankfully, he does hear Aid's question, and manages to get his attention back on track. "I'm all fuelled up," he says.

"Well, let's go, then." First Aid says, spotting Shark as he turns. "Hi Shark, how are you doing?" He eyes the new welds on the triple changer’s arm. He thought Ratchet sent the warrior to go rest, not to go and probably get in bar fights in the inn. "Aren't you supposed to be resting?"

Shark looks over to Chains, "They got it, you just have to pay more for it than the cheap stuff." he points out sagely, "Say, don't I owe you a drink?" he asks, then glances over at Nightstar. He scoffs toward Chains, "You hit on everything with a certain frame type dontcha?" a glance toward First Aid, "Hey kid, good work on the arm here. Keep it up, maybe you'll be CMO some cycle. Primus knows Ratchet can't be it forever." Just enough of his lips quirk upward that it exposes a hint of his toothy maw, "I see you brought in another stray too."

Shark pauses a moment at the question, "I will, soon as I get a nice neural net numbing high grade in me. Gimme a break okay kid? Eesh. As bad as grumpy."

Red tinting her cheeks, Nightstar turns her optics towards the familiar voice and smiles at Chains. "Definitely been a long time." She gives a look to Shark and leaves the bar area, grumbling something.

Chains grins behind the faceplate. "I like you, most people only remember they owe me a drink when we're around the cheap dives, not the good stuff. You feeling that generous, or did the cons hit you hard enough to scramble something?" he teases, before shifting back to Nightstar. "Way too long. We ought to get caught up." he adds, before catching Shark's added commentary. "Hey, when they're as cute as the lady doc, there, can you blame me?"

Nightstar walks to where Chains, standing off a little to his right. She just shakes her head at the comments and says, "Mechs..."

It doesn't take much to lose Hot Spot with his current bewildered state, and he gives up trying to follow the conversations after First Aid's exchange with the impressive-looking Autobot at the bar (although he heard First Aid call him Shark, that isn't the kind of detail Hot Spot is currently geared to remember). But he does notice the welding - now it's been pointed out to him - and it looks like a really good job. "Um," he says to Shark, suddenly feeling more than a little awkward. "Hi."

First Aid steps in. "Hot Spot, this is Shark- Shark, Hot Spot. He's here from Crystal City. I was going to show him around Iacon." Aid doesn't elaborate on why, though.

Shark smiles just a bit more, and now you really can see his teeth - sharp, pointy things. He idly thumbs his short chin, the scarring still obvious from his tangle with Lifeline. "I'm feeling generous. I like a mech that will take on tall, silver and ugly without needing to check his titanium torsion bars at the door. If you catch my drift." In other words, to him Chains has some guts and balls both. He hands out credits to the barkeep, "A drink for my associate there if you would. That is if he can take it as much as he dishes it out." a soft chuckle, "Oh I have a lady doc myself so I totally get it Chains. Trust me I sooooo get it." A glance over his shoulder at First Aid, sizing up the mech next to him with a smirk, "Nice to meetcha." is offered, politely. Another chuckle at Nightstar, "Oh she complains now.. but when you get them alone... watch out."

Chains laughs. "What, the fight with Megs? Best scrap I've had in a while. And I couldn't go letting anyone else get cannoned. Didn't get really fun til they decided me against Megs wasn't a fair fight, so Screamer had to help him even things up." he replies with amusement. "Speaking of which, doc..." he says, definitely speaking to Nightstar - no way he wants to spend more time with any other medic than he has to, "They put my arm and shoulder back together, but I could probably still use a check up and very full diagnostic sometime, after getting cannoned and null rayed." he adds, glancing towards the tender, then Shark, then the guy talking to Shark. "Why would you go and do that? We got another poor recruit coming?"

"Don't make me throw a wrench.." Nightstar mutters at Shark. She smiles at Chains, "I'll be happy to do that for you." Turning her gaze away, she watches the others in the bar for a moment.

At the mention of the 'fight with Megs' Hot Spot's audials refocus, tuning in on Chains; this sounds exciting.

Hot Spot turns to watch Chains, obviously rapt.

Shark's face gets this look on it at the mention of the dreaded cannon, "Think you missed that fight when I got one of those. Thankfully my creators had the forethought to make me out of some sterner stuff. Small blessing being a triple changer I suppose." a little roll of his shoulders, he takes his drink in hand and takes a long drag out of it. White energon is the purest most high grade energon one can buy. He lowers the drink to peer at Nightstar, "Just don't hit me on the top of the helm eh? Rather like my adornment." he notes. The shark-fin protrusion just another reminder of how he got his name. He makes a soft sound, like he's clearing his throat, "Wooo, that stuff has a nasty little burn to it."

First Aid eyes Chains, turning away from Hot Spot slightly. "He's just here to visit, as far as I know." He looks distant for a second, then turning back to Hot Spot. "I have to go back to the repair bay- Blades is awake- but I can show you around on the way."

The mention of Blades gets Hot Spot's attention. He tries not to worry that this is probably about to come across as rude, but this is as good an opportunity as any. "Perhaps I could meet him?" he says quietly, intending for only First Aid to hear him, although others probably can too. "I mean, if it wouldn't be too much trouble."

Chains playfully mock-salutes Nightstar's offer, "Thanks, doc. I love your bedside manner, and all. Whenever you like, really." He nods to Shark. "I heard about that. Even with a glancing shot, thing fragging near took my arm off, second shot pretty much destroyed my force field. Luckily, he missed once in there - and I managed to keep most of the game of tag with him in hand to hand. When he can't use that cannon, wasn't so bad. Even got a few shots in myself.... had my chain around his blasted neck, when Screamer got involved."

He glances at the others, "Anyway, doc..." referring to Nightstar again, "On your schedule. Sounds like there's a trip to med bay in the works, we can tag along, or stay here and drink." No idea who this Blades guy is and all.

First Aid shakes his head. "No trouble at all. Let's go."

"Don't worry, I won't put a dent in your helm." Nightstar snorts softly at Shark. She shakes her head again and takes a sip of her drink. Looking up at Chains, she blinks her optics, "Well.. it is my day off. And I want to avoid Ratchet at all costs."

Chains has a force field? Hot Spot is intrigued, but the opportunity to meet Blades is too important for him to miss. Even for Autobot tales of heroism. He gives Shark a friendly smile in acknowledgment and gets off his stool, intending to follow where First Aid leads.

First Aid heads for the door.

Chains gestures about to the bar. "Fair enough, we can avoid Ratchet together... good habit to be in." he agrees. He nods towards Hot Spot, and grudgingly, even to the other mech. "Take care." he calls, then glances back to the others sticking around.


Hot Spot follows, a little disappointed that he couldn't listen to the war stories, but very much enjoying being led around Iacon.

"The barracks and shooting range and refectory are through there, and the actual command levels are down that ramp under the city," Aid says. "I've only been down there the once though, since it's mostly restricted. If we get a chance later, though, I'll show you around the parts that are open?" First Aid isn't entirely oblivious to the way that Hot Spot's been drinking in the sights and stories of the Autobot forces. "It's sort of quiet today- there was some sort of skirmish yesterday afternoon and we spent most of 4th shift repairing injuries. Anyway, that brings us back to the med bay, where you've already been."

Iacon is magnificent, and by the time he arrives in the repair depot, Hot Spot is (yet again) overwhelmed. All those Autobots! All zipping about all over the place, obviously all headed somewhere useful. It's not only magnificent, it's also inspirational, and the worry soon drains from Hot Spot's expression, replaced by a slightly dappy smile.

Blades moves around under his tarp, craning his neck to look from around the edge of the tarp covering him on the berth. His optics begin to light a little, then darken as he pulls himself back under the cover. He wakes more fully when he hears the mechs arrive from outside, and his optics light to full power, although he doesn't move very much in his cocoon.

"Blades is a little bit.. odd. He's been in Cubicron on his own for quite a while, and he's developed some unpleasant coping mechanisms. Please don't scare him." First Aid warns Hot Spot as they cross the bay to a vaguely-mech-shaped pile under a tarp on the berth. His voice is quiet. "Hey Blades, are you awake?" He says as they approach the tarp itself.

Hot Spot remains a good four paces behind First Aid. He holds his hands open at his sides, and attempts to look as non-threatening as possible; he doesn't want to do anything to scare the mech. "Of course," he says quietly to First Aid, and the dappy smile vanishes as a little of yesterday's anxiety coming back to bubble around in his fuel tank.

A sound like "Mm-no" issues from under the tarp, although what appears to be two bright lights are shining through the material from underneath. The mech-shaped pile shifts and moves slightly until the lights turn off, almost as an afterthought.

First Aid ahs, and pulls a cube of energon from subspace- he's walking around well-supplied at the moment. "Are you hungry yet?" He offers.

Hot Spot just watches. He has only the vaguest idea about this feral mech who - apparently - he has some kind of close connection with. He isn't sure he feels it though, but he isn't sure he can feel much at all aside from the disconcerting sense of his whole life having been re-arranged without so much as a by your leave. It strikes him that he never wondered if he feels a close connection to First Aid, but again he's far too nervous to follow that thought through.

Blades frowns and reignites an optic, then tries to snake around an arm to take the energon cube without losing his cover. He gives up and pokes his head out from under the tarp, eyeing First Aid carefully as he attempts the seizure, but then, it's difficult to be stealthy in plain view with a gurgling tank.

First Aid holds out the cube for Blades to take. "Aren't you worried you're going to spill it if you try and drink it like that?" First Aid isn't going to try and make him sit up or come out of the tarp for the cube. Putting strings on fuel isn't fair to Blades, and Aid is trying hard to win his trust.

Whatever happened to Blades must have been terrible, Hot Spot thinks. He lowers his gaze, suddenly aware that he's staring, and looks at the intricate, everyday mesh of scratches on the floor instead.

Blades looks at the cube and then looks at Hot Spot. He looks at First Aid again, sighs, and swings his legs around out of the tangle of tarp to sit up on the edge of the berth and accept the cube, almost reluctantly... before polishing off its contents with unbridled enthusiasm. He looks on expectantly, playing with the empty cube and the tarp hem as he watches First Aid and Hot Spot.

First Aid says, "Blades, this is Hot Spot- Hot Spot, meet Blades." He pauses for a second. "Remember the pings I told you about, Blades? Hot Spot is one of the other mechs that sends them out."

Blades nods at the new mech. "You've got them, too," he says, pointing toward Hot Spot's chest plates. "First Aid says I have them, but I don't know why," he admits.

"I don't know either," Hot Spot says quietly. He avoids looking Blades in the optics, in case that comes across as threatening. However, he can't help but notice the terrible state of the mech's armor. It makes his spark ache, and a fierce surge of protective anger overrides the anxiety for a few brief astroseconds. Whoever caused Blades to get into that state deserves a very stern talking to, at the /very/ least. "I'm glad to meet you," he says. "Maybe we can all find out why together."

Blades nods, his optics never leaving the blue mech's red optics the whole time his own head moves. "Yeah," he says. "Not too bad having them, though, if it means I don't have to eat metal again. Or wire." He pauses as though thinking back on his memories of Cubicron. "Or energon tubing."

First Aid says, "We'd help you even if you didn't have them, Blades. No one should have to eat metal or energon tubing." he looks a little bit sad and grossed out. First Aid looks up, slightly distracted.

Hot Spot has no idea that his red optics could be a problem. It hadn't really been an issue in Crystal City. He does continue to avoid meeting Blades' gaze, though, simply because he doesn't want to come across as confrontational (and because of this, he has no idea that Blades is staring at his optics). And as for the idea that Blades had been forced to eat... what he'd been forced to eat - Hot Spot doesn't want to think about it. "No, they really shouldn't," Hot Spot says, echoing First Aid. It's such a horrible thing to contemplate.

First Aid is distracted, talking on an internal comm for the moment.

"Shouldn't," Blades says with a shrug. "Don't have to, anymore," he says as he starts nibbling on the edge of the earlier empty cube, but stops with a wince and puts the cube down. He starts playing with the tarp instead, rolling it around his newly repaired arm.

First Aid watches the wince. "Do your denta hurt?" He asks. That's one of the repairs that First Aid has no idea even where to start on, but between getting Blades settled and the battle injuries that had been repaired last shift, he hasn't had time to consult Ratchet about them. The only denta repair that he's seen was when Lifeline had worked on Shark, and he had been worrying about other things at the time.

Hot Spot winces in sympathy; eating a cube isn't a great idea in the first place, but for chewing on it to hurt, he's pretty sure that means something is seriously wrong. He's so busy trying not to stare at Blades, that he doesn't realize First Aid has been distracted.

The radio twitters "Yeah its gunfire. Oh, hang on * away from mic * "TINY! TURN THAT THING DOWN! I'm on the phone man! " the gunfire and shouting and explosions drop audibly "Sorry about that. He likes his movies. Uhm, depends. Dad's keeping me under wraps for a bit. Things have been sketchy."

First Aid <internal comm to Streets>: Sketchy how? Are you okay? Have you been recharging and getting rechecked by your medic like you were supposed to?

Blades's optics brighten and he shakes his head vigorously. "Nope! They're fine," he says, putting the cube down on the berthside stand. He slides the tarp off his arm in front of him in a heap and rests his hands on it, holding his upper body up.

<comm back to First aid> "Yeah of course! I can send records. Oh, it’s just mob business. The others are kinda toeing the line with father and stuff. Even without losing 'face' it’s kind of the thing to do. To see if he's actually weakened or not.

First Aid still slightly distracted by the comm, moves towards the tarp. "I'll just put that away, if that's okay, Blades?"

<FA Comm to Streets> It's okay, I believe you. Look, I'm sort of busy. If you can, come to Iacon, okay? There's some mechs you need to meet and who should meet you. I think you might remember one of them- and we still need to get that scan. Be careful! </comm>

Blades looks at First Aid curiously and begins to note his distraction. He waves his hand in front of the medic's visor as he tries to remove the tarp, but he doesn't prevent Aid from taking the item.

Hot Spot finally notices that First Aid seems distracted, and although he assumes it's because of a comm conversation, he doesn't wonder what it's about. Whatever it is, he's sure it's very important. "I don't quite know how to ask this," he says to Blades, "but do you remember anything from before?"

First Aid blinks at the hand waved in front of his visor and offers Blades a smile, but shakes out the tarp, folding it up to put it away silently, curious to see what Blades will say to Hot Spot.

Blades turns to look at Hot Spot, and he shrugs and shakes his head. "I remember Cubicron," he says. "First Aid says I have creators, but I don't remember them. I just remember empties. And being hungry." His attention diverts to First Aid's storing of the tarp, the location of which he notes.

<First Aid's comm> Ratchet keeps talking about how bad it'd be if whatever it is about our pings that's unique was in the hands of the Decepticons. And neither of these guys are Autobots.</comm>

Hot Spot doesn't have much - well, any - experience with empties, although the mention of them provokes sympathy. As with the tube-eating, no-one should have to live like that either. "I don't remember either," Hot Spot says. "I'm sorry you went hungry. "

"We haven't even scanned Blades yet, Hot Spot." First Aid explains. "Let alone run the decryption that Wheeljack and Percy ran on me on him- or Streets- sorry, that's who I was talking to- yet, because it's more invasive. I think Ratchet was hoping to run the baseline memory data scan on you today, though, and Blades and I can get out from underfoot if he's free to do that so you can have some privacy."

Hot Spot nods. He isn't exactly comfortable with the idea, but it suddenly feels of paramount importance that he get his memories back. He no longer doubts that they've got the wrong mech, terrifying as the idea is that he had a whole other life before Crystal City. "Perhaps that would be for the best," he says. He shoots First Aid a smile. "Thank you."

Blades stares askance. "Scans... invasive?" he asks First Aid in a distressed whisper. "I thought... I thought... I didn't think I'd be here for that!" he exclaims, patting down his own plating to look for scanning devices that might've been planted during his protracted recharge.

<comm> "Can you explain what you mean by that First Aid?" asks Streetwise again </comm>

First Aid shakes his head and pats Blades on the arm. "Not unless you are okay with it- I wouldn't do that, and I won't let anyone else, either. The surface level scan isn't invasive at all- it doesn't hurt, and it doesn't take very long." He turns his gaze to Hot Spot. "Decrypting the memories /was/ somewhat invasive. But they don't have to do it live- they did with me because it was faster and I consented. They /can/ download the data and decrypt it, then give you the results."

<FA's comm> Explain what? That they're not Autobots? Just what I said. Neither of them are from Iacon, but they're both here right now. </comm>

<Street's comm> No, I got that. I just am not sure why you can't tell me who they are or let me talk to them.

<Fa's comm> Fine- putting the comm on external- you can introduce yourself. </comm>

First Aid says, slightly exasperated, "Streetwise- that's the other one of us we've found with the pings- is on the comm, and wants to talk to you guys. It's an open channel though- I didn't want to say too much without asking either of you first."

The comm is quiet a moment. There's still the sound of a violent movie in the background though, before Streetwise clears his vocal cord and says "Hey. Hello there!" into the comm

Blades relaxes as First Aid pats his arm. "It's... okay. Okay." he says, drawing a few draughts of air into his vents. He looks at Hot Spot with something between concern and pity, although he breaks off when First Aid introduces someone else who supposedly wants to talk to the room. He looks at First Aid with curiosity, wondering what this other mech has to say, and he jumps back in surprise when he hears the other voice. "Hello...?" he asks. He looks at both First Aid and Hot Spot for some sort of confirmation -- what was he supposed to say?

Hot Spot is still thinking about the scans, so this new development takes him by surprise. "Um... hello," he says, his politeness overriding how he actually feels. He backs up against the nearest piece of sturdy furniture, trying not to look as though he's using it to lean against.

"So First Aid tells me you two are pinging like I am." a pause from the voice "Did you see the videos yet that he has? Kind of freaky in a way... well, not scary but weird huh?

First Aid says, "Streets, that would be Blades, and Hot Spot that you're hearing." He vents air slowly, offering Hot Spot a half smile. "I gave Hot Spot the files, but I haven't had a chance to ask Blades if he wants to see."

"Files? What files?" Blades asks, not worrying about who hears. "What are you talking about, files?"

Hot Spot retrieves the data pad from his subspace and holds it out to Blades. "They're on here," he says.

"They're memory files that First Aid had pulled up from before he lost his memory. Uh, not sure how much he explained to you guys. When I watched them I kinda freaked out a bit. It triggered a few inside myself. I haven't gotten the deep scan yet." Streetwise admits, gunfire sounding behind him.

First Aid nods. "they're mostly fragments- there are more to be decrypted, but Wheeljack and Perceptor- that's who decrypted them- are busy, and originally the decryption was just to make sure I wasn't carrying around anything dangerous. Some of what we found is memories- that's what's on there- but a lot was random code, too, that didn't match up with typical system code."

Blades takes the data pad from Hot Spot and looks at the blank screen for several klicks, as though gathering thoughts. Finally he presses the button.

Hot Spot doesn't watch as Blades accesses the data pad as it might seem intrusive. Instead, he focuses on Streetwise. "Where exactly are you?" he says.

"In the common area den. Don't mind the noise - Tiny's watching one of his videos. I think its 'Weldface' this week. Lots and lots and lots of shooting." Streetwise sighs exasperatingly "I prefer Polyhexian Drift myself. So you're Hot Spot?"

First Aid watches Blades with the data pad carefully, not sure if Hot Spot left the files open or what, and uncertain of how the helo-former mech will react- particularly to the memory that Aid is pretty sure features him. "There are a few in there of Streetwise," he notes.

Blades skates through the memory files fairly quickly, not quite believing what he's seeing, and not really wanting to give them time to sink in. "These don't make sense," he says. He finally reaches one of the videos that features him, and he stops cold. "Can't... can't be. Isn't. That's not me -- look, that mech's not even rusty!" He stops that file and replays it. "Who -- who is this?" he asks, lost and looking at First Aid.

"My guess buddy, would be that you weren't ALWAYS rusty." remarks Streetwise, overhearing Blades.

Hot Spot isn't Cybertron's biggest fan of violent films, and so the titles mean little to him. "That's me," he responds to Streetwise, having noted that 'the common area den' at least indicates that Streetwise is somewhere safe and comfortable. But at that moment it becomes evident that giving Blades the data pad might not have been the best idea he'd ever had. "I'm sorry," he says, also looking at First Aid.

First Aid shrugs at Hot Spot a little bit helplessly. He would have done the same thing. "I'm pretty sure that's you, Blades." He says gently. "And... well.." He reaches over for the data pad, and brings up an audio file. "All of you, get out of here -- I mean it. I'm a better fighter than the lot of you slaggers," a voice crackles out of the data pad's speakers, followed by a loud whir. "He's dead. Go!!" -- it sounds like Blades.

"Nice to meet you then Hot Spot. Well, in a way I guess." admits Streetwise "Oh, you meant where on the planet? Cubicron, my dad's 'lair', heh. Hey, maybe you shoul.." he stops as that clip was played. He could hear it too.

Blades becomes very quiet, his hands sitting in his lap, motionless now that First Aid has taken the data pad. He's watching nothing in particular; in fact, his gaze could've just as easily been on the floor tiles across the room. His rotor blades begin to turn about the central pinion as much as sitting on the berth allows.

"Hey," Hot Spot says, ignoring Streetwise for a moment. He moves a little closer, within Blades' arm's reach, although Hot Spot doesn't move to touch him. "You're safe now. We're going to find out what happened. It'll be OK." He isn't sure he believes it, but for Blades' sake he's going to try.

Streetwise is quiet too for a moment, then adds "You okay there... Blades it was right? " he asks "That happened a while ago. Just relax man... it’s all good now."

First Aid says, "I'm sorry- I didn't mean to upset you, Blades." He says, patting Blades on the arm, seemingly oblivious to the spinning rotor as he edges closer. "I think you saved me- or us- I'm not sure who was there. Streetwise is willing to undergo the memory scan- I'm hoping we'll have more information after that."

Blades' engine issues a low growl. "I remembered how to cut," he says, still running his rotor. "I learned how to cut... before," he intones.

"I'm sure you did," Hot Spot says. "No-one's doubting your capabilities. But you don't need them right now."

"Yeah, you learned before. When we were together." states Streetwise calmly "You learned FOR us. You want to learn more? To find out why, and who? " he asks carefully, his voice pitched in calm, but serious tones, just right.

Blades starts to surface from his unwilling reverie and the rotor begins to slow as Hot Spot's words finally take some of his attention. He looks to the side and sees First Aid there, and quickly puts on the brakes. The rotor halts with a tiny crunching sound. He winces and looks at the rest of the mechs in the room. "What -- what else did I learn to do, before?" he asks, somewhat drained.

Hot Spot shrugs. "No idea," he says.

"There's one way we can find out easily bud." replies Streetwise "are you up for it?"

"He doesn't have to do anything he doesn't want to," First Aid says. "There's no rush. And either of you could get scanned first." He says, slightly defensive on Blades' behalf.

"Oh, it’s all his choice. Just telling him that's the only way I can figure we can figure it out. And I'm GOING to be scanned. I just can't right now." explains Streetwise, a little defensive himself.

"Who's gonna do that?" Blades asks First Aid, warily. Great to know these things, but if someone's going to start traipsing through his memory...

"I will," Hot Spot says. "I mean... I can. Go first, that is." He doesn't exactly want to, but him going first just seems like the sensible option. He tries a reassuring smile on Blades. "I don't know," he says. "I'm sure whoever they are, they'll be highly competent."

"Ratchet did the basic surface scan, and Perceptor and Wheeljack decrypted the results of the more in-depth one," First Aid says, in answer to Blades' question.

Streetwise smartly stays quiet "Its nothing to be Afraid of." he comments then.

"No Ratchet, please," Blades mutters, glaring darkly at the office door. "You can have him," he tells Hot Spot in a bit of a huff, but it's all bravado. "You too, Streetwise," he manages to say.

"I don't want him either to be honest." replies Streetwise simply. "I'm trying to see if I can bribe or blackmail Bandage here to do the scan for me or borrow someone else's.

First Aid says, "Just be careful, Streetwise- messing around in your memory isn't something to be done lightly. Perceptor and Wheeljack can meet you at Lifeline's clinic sometime, I think."

"Oh no. I have to avoid that place for a while still. She's probably not happy with me either." notes Streetwise quickly "But We're better off here than you'd think. Bandage is certified remember."

Hot Spot tries to follow the conversation. He remembers First Aid mentioning Lifeline before, and has already filed her under 'probably trustworthy and competent' in his mind. Wheeljack likewise is a familiar name, although only from the news, but he hasn't heard of Perceptor before. He thinks back to his meeting with Ratchet the day before, then to the news reports about Wheeljack - in a toss up between grumpy and explosive, Hot Spot's going to go with grumpy. "I'm fine with Ratchet," he says.

"I should be going too soon." notes Streetwise, "Thanks for letting me talk to them though First Aid

"Sure," You've got a ration code, so you can get energon in the refectory, and I'll be here for my shift if you need directions or anything." First Aid says to Blades. "And no problem, Streets- you really should come to Iacon though, and meet everyone- or we'll meet up in Cubicron, maybe."

"You're welcome to comm me," Hot Spot says, meaning both Blades and Streetwise. Then, to First Aid. "I think I'll go and get that drink. Thank you for bringing me here."

"That may be better. Like I said, dad's become a helicopter parent right now." remarks Streetwise amusedly "I'll see what I can do, it’s all I can promise.

First Aid nods a little bit helplessly- there's more than a small part of him that wants to demand that they wait, and stay till they can get scanned, and remember too- but he squashes it in favor of picking up his data pad and stashing it in subspace. "It was nice to meet you, Hot Spot. And just comm me when you know, Streetwise. My schedule is a little bit complicated right now."

Hot Spot nods and heads for the door. There's so much to think through, and he figures a drive through Iacon could give him some decent thinking time while also letting him see those sights again.