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Word Dueling Medics

Jurassic World: Dominion Dominates Fandom Wikis - The Loop

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Shred Slipstream Goa Psykeout Megatron

Shred is in the med bay, sitting alone, all the terminals seemingly off, the screens on them, anyway. her optics are dark, as if offline. On closer inspection, there is a data lead extending from the nearest terminal to her into the back of her head

Slipstream enters the med bay, since Shred wasn't in the barracks this would be the only other location she figures the medic would be.. and she's here all right. But resting? "Curious." she murmurs.

Goa's nose juts first into the med bay, then the rest of his helmet, his optics curiously probing around. "Shredder, you in here?" His lenses click into focus on the inactive figure ... and he wheels over quietly to have a look.

Shred 's optics start to glow faintly, and she speaks, "I'm here, guys.. I was just trying to be efficient with analysis of data files. While there were no injured to take care of, it seemed like a good idea."

Slipstream glances at Goa a moment, then takes a seat near Shred. "Data files on what?" she asks curiously.

Goa scuffs to a stop and clasps his hands over the back of Shred's seat, leaning and peering over her shoulder. And at the cables. "Huh."

Shred smiles faintly, the lights coming, "General data files, everyone's medical records, that kind of thing."

Slipstream nods to Shred's reply, smiling a little at her. "That must be.. enlightening." she notes. Another glance at Goa, "How are you doing Shred?" she asks.

Goa sets the chair to creaking as he stands back up with his weight on it. He glares at Slipstream a nanosec. <What?> "/Everyone's/ records... oh, you had some trouble in here last cycle, yeah?"

Shred smiles, "I'm doing ok, I was a little concerned though at the fact that we had that intruder last cycle. I do not wish to take any chances."

Psykeout walks into the room, the doors whiffing open as he approaches them. The gumby medics scatter throughout the room, looking around for something to do. Psykeout's optics fall on the smattering of mechs gathered, a smirk teasing across his lips as he continues through the room towards the back. His aural circuitry perks up at the sound of an intruder, but he says nothing on his way towards his desk. There is so much more to learn when you just stay silent.

Slipstream looks over at Goa a moment with a knowing smile, then she nods to Shred. "Anyone find out what this intruder wanted? Why he was even in here?" she asks, having not seen the security tapes but having had seen the report.

Shred hmms, "Honestly, I think he was just curious. But his technology was unique. Apparently a construct of liquid metal, at least that's how it appeared."

Goa nods slowly. "Dunno if you wanna trust my hunch," he grins, "But I wouldn't worry about him too much. Left Polyhex a half-cycle ago." His smile falters for an awkward pause -- and his antennae tilt up at the sound of the open door, but he pays it no mind yet. "You doin' alright up here, other than that, Shredder?"

Slipstream glances at Goa again, then hmms, "Could it be the xeno you reported seeing at the Spire of Freedom some cycles back?" then she peers over at Psykeout, face unreadable. Then she considers, "Megatron was in here when it happened if I read into that report right. Must have really made an impression if the Emperor wants the xeno dead."

Shred doesn't really notice Psykeout, heck, she only halfway really notices Slip and Goa, as she is still plugged into the terminal, downloading files.. "Agreed. And I do think it might have been the Xeno.. Depth, wasn't it? his designation?"

Goa scratches at the side of his helmet and shrugs, in that sort of nonchalant way that suggests a mech knows more than he's letting on. "You guys are slaggin' obsessed with files," he mutters. Then he finally turns his helmet to acknowledge Psykeout, with a toothy grin on. "You feelin' better, Psyker?" he nearly shouts.

Slipstream nods to the question, "That's what Goa's report said the name was.." she shakes her head a bit at Goa's shouting, like that was necessary. "You need to work on your file reading, Goa. Honestly I had to tell you the name of the Autobot you fought when they were after Trypticon for goodness sake."

Psykeout taps his fingers on the desk, slowly craning his head up towards Goa. There is a sneer pasted upon his lips, staring across the room at the gathering of his fellow Decepticons. He waves his hand, almost dismissive of Goa, "Fine."

Shred 's optic flare brightly as she disconnects, looking around, and right at Psykeout. "Hello Psykeout. It is.. good to see you are functioning at optimal capacity."

Psykeout cringes at the sound of Shred's voice, "Do you really have to do that, Shred?"

Goa's optics dim a tic like he's preoccupied with something in his processor, but they come back on, and he's still grinning and staring. He makes a little halting gesture at the two femmes, before his boots retract over his tires, and he skates away. Over to the edge of Psykeout's desk, which he braces his arms against. "I was lookin' for you. Wondered if your offer still stands."

Slipstream smirks, score one for Shred as the mech apparently cannot stand her voice. She peers curiously at Goa's back, then hmms. Then she leans over to Shred, "Got a question for you."

Psykeout cringes at the sound of Shred's voice, "Do you really have to do that, Shred?" Looking over to Goa, his optics flicker softly at the reminder, "No." His voice is curt, cold and to the point. He knows that there's something going on here and the three that are gathered in the same room cannot result in any benefit for Psykeout. He knows that he needs to choose his words carefully.

Shred smiles to Psykeout all sweetness, "Do I really have to do what, Psykeout? One would think you didn't like me." cricking her neck servo's a couple of times, she looks to Slipstream, "Fire away, Slip, I'll answer to the best of my ability."

Slipstream frowns a little at Psyke, carefully lowering her tone so he has no reason to be annoyed by her. "Was curious... if you are lonely?" she asks, looking the smaller femme right in the optics.

You paged Goa with '<Offer?> is asked over the link.'

Goa's optics brighten, and he shrugs again. "You sure?" He releases his grip on the desk and stands upright. An orange thumb points over his shoulder, "I thought repairing Decepticons was your job. The lead medic's got better things to do than a little faceplate polish."

From afar, Goa (gooey) makes a sort of mental 'ahem'. <Ask later. Funny now.>

Psykeout narrows his optics slightly, "I don't dislike you, Shred. It's just that the sound of your vocoder is enough to make me want to perform surgery on my core. Every time you talk, I can see a Decepticon mechling dying. Their head explodes from that screeching that sounds like a cyber-rat being run across Wheeljack's ears," He leans back in his chair and laces his fingers behind his head, "So, the short answer is no. I don't dislike you. I do, however, think that Slipstream needs a hand to hold. He waves his hand at the two of them, "Go on...toddle off like two little mechs and let the older generation actually do something productive."


Shred hmms, hearing Slipstream's question, and she considers it for all of about two nanocycles, "Honestly, Slipstream, I am lonely. " at Psykeouts response, she sighs, "And just what is wrong with my vocoder? My voice does not screech." no, it is fairly calm, yes it is a Femme's voice, with just a slight rasp to it, but the truth is, it is in fact a slightly damaged vocoder, one of the very few original parts from her first body.

Slipstream glances over at Psyke as he takes a verbal jab at Shred first, and then at herself. The femme takes a moment to gather herself and not react to him, it's probably what he wants. She looks back to Shred and nods, "Check the security tapes from last cycle, you may just have your mech." she hints softly. Then a glance at Goa, "Or talk to Goa about him. The mech repaired him."

Goa quirks one antenna forward. "Who is ..." He snaps it backward again. His facial features twitch in a way that makes it evident he's been aggravated -- perhaps more than the femmes themselves -- but smooth back to normal in an instant. "So about repairing Decepticons."

Psykeout stares at Shred, "Actually, your vocoder is rather annoying. Matter of fact, your very existence bothers me. But, we have a common Goal, so I decide to tolerate the fact that I actually have to listen to you from time to time," He moves his attention to Slipstream, "No comment, Slips? You always have /something/ to say. And what is this about an intruder? I've heard nothing from Megatron...o r anybody else for that matter." His attention moves to Goa, "Repairing Decepticons... something I'm sure that you don't understand," He motions towards the scar, "Hurts, doesn't it? The fact that your face is marred by such an injury." He pushes himself to a standing position off of the desk, "What is with the Decepticons feeling such an extreme amount of self-pity as of late? Everybody seems to want to feel sorry for themselves, forgetting that we are fighting a war. The Autobots are plotting against us and all we can do is sit here and mull over who's lonely," He slams his fist on the desk, "Am I the only one that gives a slag about the Empire?"

Shred hmms, and she nods, "Ok, I'll do that Slip, quite happily.. " She is not sure what the larger femme is getting at exactly, but now she is curious too. As Psykeout says about mechs feeling sorry for themselves, her optics narrow faintly, "I do not feel sorry for myself, however, I also know that in my current state I am not best able to do my duties outside of the med bay. There is more to winning a war than fighting. And what is the use in winning a war if you have no plans for Afterwards?"

Slipstream frowns at Psyke as she stands up from the chair she was sitting on. "First of all, she cannot help the tone of her vocorder. Second, if you bothered to read the report you'd see that Megatron needs someone to review the security footage showing the intruder. Thirdly, I don't feel sorry for myself. Fourthly, I happen to be concerned about my friend here so excuse me if I ask if she feels lonely. Your problem Psykeout is you go out of your way to make enemies among those that you should be calling friend. Who will cover your aft plate in battle if you make sure that everyone hates you?" she asks, all the while she is ticking off her points with her fingers.

Goa's upper lip twitches. There's a lot of things he /wants/ to say about Psykeout's little speech, and most would put him in chest-deep slag. "I might not know everything about every mech that walks in and out of the city, but even I can manage keeping up-to-date on reports." He edges closer to the desk, pushing a couple data pads aside. "There was a xeno in here -- you know, a threat to the Empire," Goa snorts, "And you just skipped on in, Psykeout. Slag, you could be sitting on him now." He motions widely at the seat Psykeout is in. The mech's silver arms brace on the edge of the table once more. "Can't fight a war with warriors that are hurt. Physically or otherwise." He rakes his fingers over his cheek. "Think they'd teach you that in med academy."

Psykeout snarls softly, "Shred. Our function is not to worry about what needs to be done when the war is finished. Megatron is our leader and deems what is to be done after that. Wallowing in your own inferiority at doing your job is ridiculous and rather pointless. You know that I still do not agree with Megatron's decision to continue to let you run the Med bay, given your mental status. But, that is neither here nor there." Psykeout's smile grows slightly as Slipstream ticks off points, patiently waiting for her to finish. He holds up his hand and ticks off the points in much the same way as the femme, mocking her in every movement, "First, she can get it fixed. A vocoder is a relatively easy procedure. Second, that's what I asked about. Intruder. What'd they do? I don't believe my question was that difficult. Third, it's quite apparent that you do. But, if you'd rather feel pity for yourself, go with it. See how it works out in the end. Fourth, loneliness is not something that we should concern ourselves with," He drops his hands and leans on the desk, his optics locked onto Slipstream with anger flicking at the corners of his lips, "You know me that well, Slipstream? I don't make enemies on purpose...I point out the logical fallacies among those in the Decepticon ranks. I have no use for friends. I don't find myself in the battle field. I have no reason to cover my aft plate, Slipstream. But, all of that being said," He laces his fingers together, "It's just adorable that you two want to run off together." He nods to Goa, "Since I'm not sitting...it'd be rather difficult to be sitting on something. I thought that paying attention to the things happening around you would be taught to you. But, there I go thinking again," Waving a hand, "I'm sorry that I haven't kept up with the reports. I've been rather busy as of late."

Shred looks sternly towards Psykeout, and then she simply shakes her head, "Megatron chose to allow me to run the med bay because I am the best Decepticon for the job, Psykeout. While a vocoder is only a minor repair, however, it is NOT a necessary one. Also, I have proven my loyalty towards Megatron, and he trusts me because of this. As to you not finding yourself in the battlefield? That is only a matter of time, believe me. As to my 'wallowing in inferiority' That is far from what I am doing. What I am doing is rectifying the situation regarding my memory banks."

Slipstream notes her internal chronometer and frowns at Psykeout, "You don't know me Psykeout, nor do you want to even try. I know how I feel about myself. Do YOU know how you feel about YOURSELF you sanctimonious double talking mech? Why don't you look at the log yourself, I wasn't here to know what exactly he did." she points out, "Furthermore, if Shred wanted to fix her vocorder she will do so when she feels it necessary.. not because it grates on your precious little audial receptors." then she flexes those wings hard behind herself, "I hope that xeno comes back in here, then serves you a big tall cube of come uppance." with that, she turns and stalks out of repair bay.. time for her patrols. Maybe she'll shoot at some buildings while she is out there.

Goa raises both his optic ridges. "Busy with what, Psyke?" The more hand-waving the medic does, the more incensed Goa seems to become, his hands shifting uneasily on the desk surface, shoulder tires constantly readjusting in their wells. He whips his helmet over his shoulder as Slipstream storms out, the sad look in his optics only visible from Shred's point of view and for a scant tick, then turns back to glaring down Psykeout. "That xeno can and would turn into whatever he had to be a pain in the aft. Including the floor. The walls have eyes..." Goa mocks looking over both shoulders, up and down, wide-eyed and paranoid, before half-lidding his optics again.

It takes all he has not to burst out laughing at Slipstream's outburst. Ridiculously over-emotional and over-the-top, Psykeout knows that there's more going on here than anyone wants to admit. But, there is more important things going on within. He completely ignores Shred and looks over to Goa, "Interesting. You're telling me that nobody has the capability to scan for something that seems abnormal? Obviously the floor is going to have a different chemical makeup if a xeno is making itself a part of it. As for what I keep myself busy with," He puffs up his chest plate a bit, "I'm not really sure why it's any of your business."

Shred shrugs, waving to Slipstream as she heads out, then she sits back, reaccessing the terminal through her data jack, bringing up internally the files specifically on Psykeout, she wants to know just what his malfunction is. Right now, she figures that there is absolutely no danger to her, so why not keep up her research?

"I am." Goa narrows his optics slightly, both antennae rising to scan the room. "No odd electrical signature. Nothing. He's sneaky. If he'd had any malicious intent -- and he doesn't, which is why I was telling her not to worry about it -- we'd be deep in it by now." He looks down and shakes his head, smiling. "Psykeout, you know I'm gonna make it my business." Goa rubs his thumb in the armor between his crest and optical socket, dragging his stare back up by the same. "And, apparently, it's affecting your work here in a bad way. Come on, spill it."

Psykeout's smirk broadens into a smile, "You have no power over me, Goa. I do not answer to you, nor do I have any reason to. I do not need to explain my actions to either of you," He motions towards Shred, "My actions have not been condemned by either Megatron or Starscream. Therefore, why do you choose to judge?"

Shred smiles as she finds Psykeout's file, and hmms, downloading it into her memory core, that is quite interesting and it explains a lot. Disconnecting from her terminal, she looks across to Psykeout. "You may not answer to him, Psykeout, but you DO answer to /me./ Now. answer Goa's query. "

Goa's smile starts to peter out. "What do the Emperor or Air Commander have to do with anything? And what am I judging?" He follows the gesture toward Shred with his optics ... a moment later, she issues the command, and he turns back to Psykeout expectantly.

Psykeout snaps his attention to Shred, "Your memory banks are faulty. Your very neural circuitry is damaged and you think that you hold power over me? Just because Megatron feels that you can adequately perform your position, doesn't mean that I agree with him. The times are catching up with you, Shred. It is only a matter of time before you find yourself out of a job," He looks over to Goa, "Given the hierarchy of the Decepticon Empire, as of right now, it seems that Starscream is second-in-command. Therefore, he holds more power than any of you. So, commanding me to do something is futile. I have reasons for the things that I do. Pushing me to do something against my will, will get you nowhere."

Shred narrows her optics at Psykeout, and gets to her feet. "That is gross insubordination Psykeout. And I will NOT stand for it. This is still the Decepticon empire, and you WILL follow my orders, or you will find yourself in the grease pits. Do I make myself PERFECTLY clear?"

Goa puts on a bemused smirk ... utterly fascinated. "Yes, that's true, Psykeout. Has Starscream given you an order that's relevant to my question?" He hunches far over the desk, with a more fiery look in his optics. "And disagree with Megatron or not," the mech's dental plates grate against each other hesitantly, "you have /no/ right to question him. Or threaten another Decepticon, who, I might remind you, is /one/ of your commanding officers."

Psykeout's smile broadens to a grin, as he walks towards Shred. Standing as tall as he possibly can, he cranes his head around, then looks her directly in the optics. Of course, it's about a ten foot drop from the top of his helmet to Shred's optics, "So, you're trying to stand up to me? What are you going to do, Shred? Gnaw on my aft plate? I've told you once and I've told you again. You're absolutely out of your mind. There is extreme damage to your neural circuitry and Goa's presence isn't helping it either. I know if he wasn't here, you'd be cowering in the corner, crying for forgiveness and salvation. But, I will promise you that in the near future, you are going to find yourself in a situation that you can't power your way out of. You're going to find yourself in a situation that you can't just click on a comm to have someone come save you. That day will come for you, Shred. That day will come sooner then you expect. That day is going to be the day that I will watch with silent joy, as you destroy everything that you have worked so hard to achieve. That is the day that I will triumph...So, be aware, Shred." He looks to Goa and smiles, "You remember that femme that was on the table, when you were in my office? That is what I have been working on. Apparently they were infected with the same thing that infected you. So, I've been working to eradicate the infection and make the femme suffer as much as possible under my own hand. /THAT/ is what I have been busy with. I have yet to find any more of the missing product, however... As I said, I will keep searching for it."

Shred looks up to Psykeout, her optics burning crimson, "You think I am afraid of you, Psykeout?" suddenly she has her energy glaive in hand, active, and right at Psykeout's throat. "I can more than look after myself. As I said, you want to prove yourself, then let's go. I'll take you apart." Her voice has dropped about two octaves, taking on a very dangerous tone, the voice of one who does NOT accept her orders being questioned. and who definitely does not take kindly to threats.

Goa follows Psykeout as he moves through the bay, the cone of his helmet still pointed down, its rim shadowing his glare. He is silent throughout the mech's monologue, other than the soft click-clack of his shoulder blades trying to will themselves to unfold. As his question is finally answered, he starts to look back upward, skeptical as a Decepticon can be ... upon hearing the detail about an infection, his optics flash brighter, and he opens his mouth with a disgusted expression to speak.

Shred preempts him. Goa shuts his mouth, stares at the minicon ... then steps back, glaring with renewed ferocity at Psykeout. "... Megatron doesn't look kindly on fighting in the med bay, Shred."

Psykeout places two fingers on the handle of the glaive and pushes it down gently, "Violence solves nothing, Shred. Especially when it's two Decepticons fighting each other. So, let's just say for the sake of argument that you manage to take me out. What then? You've managed to lose a medic and the only trained psychologist in the Decepticon Empire. Congratulations." He takes a step or two back, "You continue to prove time and time again that you are under severe distress and I actually am beginning to question your ability to perform on the field. I stand behind the psychological profile that I wrote... Which reminds me, what made you choose the medical profession? Why, given as obviously talented in the field as you are, did you choose to repair? You could be out there, destroying and ripping Autobots limb from limb. Instead, you're in here and trying to make up for the fact that there are cyber-foxes that stand taller then you." He casts a glance over his shoulder towards Goa and his smile grows slightly, "I'd suggest listening to our fellow Decepticon, Shred. We both know that the security tapes can be used against each other. So, keep that in mind. You wouldn't want Megatron's cannon pointed at that pretty little head of yours, would you?"

Shred smirks, putting the glaive away, "What made me choose it? That is a good question Psyke. It's also one that I have no answer to and you know it. When I was infected I purged my memory banks. Though there is also the likely possibility that I trained medically however in order to better be able to dismantle my foes. My size should not be an issue, so long as I do perform my duty, which I have shown myself more than capable of." "Couldn't guess what's putting her under distress, Psykeout."

Goa follows his steps, turning to face him as he moves, tone as disgusted as where he left off. "Which is why you two need to have it out at some point, probably with a slagging referee. You aren't Megatron. There's a reason Shred's got duties here and not on the frontline," he steps a hand span away, forcing him to look up slightly to see Psykeout's optics, "And a reason he trusts her with his maintenance, not you." Goa growls, "And as for my question... I won't ask why you were torturing a neutral. But there's only a few ways that could've happened. A few mechs had their claws on that stuff. First off, Shred. She gave it back -- and I know she extinguished the mechs she used it on." He looks behind himself, as if to confirm that, then back into Psykeout's optics. "You can doubt her stability all you want, but I've got no reason not to believe her. A few other 'Cons -- Megatron, Firestorm, the gumbies although I doubt they get outside much," Goa eyes one as it busies itself with whatever gumbies do, "and the Autobots. I'm starting to doubt that one." His face droops, but he continues snarling as he gets to his last point, "And you."

Psykeout's smile fades slightly, "Medical training is not required to dismantle your foe, although it does make it a bit easier. You keep bringing up the fact that you purged your memory banks, but I find it hard to believe that there's nobody that doesn't know about your past. I find it hard to believe that you completely disregarded everything in your past. Cybertron is a rather small planet and I know enough mechs to find out information. Maybe you're known in the Grease Pits? Maybe I should go poke around in there. Maybe there's a backup you have written down somewhere, in order to remind you of things that you claimed to have forgotten," He smiles and laces his fingers together, "Yes. I think that is something that I should invest my time in. I believe that Megatron and the rest of the Decepticons would be rather intrigued to find out about your past, Shred. What do you think?" He looks back to Goa, "I told you. I did not take any from your chassis. The Autobots were infected, although not to the same extent that it hit us. The gumbies do make it outside from time to time, but who's to say how it got there? Who can truly say how the neutral was infected? The Autobots had their hands on it. We had our hands on it. It's not as though it was a single source that can be traced back. Besides... you said that you believed me, Goa. What has caused you to change your mind?"

Shred narrows her optics, "I am quite certain that lord Megatron knows all about my past, and it is NONE of your business, Psykeout. The files regarding me are incomplete, and one would logically conclude that there is a very good reason for that. As to the grease pits, what in Primus makes you think that I would have anything there?"

Goa turns aside, giving Shred a knowing look when she gets to making that inquiry. "We need to speak in private, Shred." Then he puts the heat back on Psykeout. "I believed you when I didn't know about your project of the cycle. And when you weren't outright lying. There's no record of any Autobot having what I have, and ..." He narrows his optics inquisitively, "extent? Extent of two Decepticons? It's not an organism that can spread, Psyke. Maybe you don't have any after all, if that's how you think it behaves. I can trace the source back. I did trace the source back." He sighs, forcing it to sound as much like a hiss as possible. "But I don't suppose you're interested in that, are you."

Psykeout arches an optic ridge, "Lord Megatron may know about your past, but I do not. You searched my files, found out things about me. I have the same right to find out the same things about you. But, instead of trying to go through the files and find edited items, why not go straight to the source? You mentioned the Grease Pits and given your sudden defensive actions about my digging into your past, I find that it is going to be even more necessary then I originally thought." His smile grows, "Yes, Shred. There is obviously something that you are trying to hide. That much is obvious. Our past can haunt us, Shred. Fearing the past is something that we need to move beyond. If you are so scared about it, then perhaps there is something there. Perhaps there is something there, begging to be discovered," Unlacing his fingers, he begins to pace from one end of the room to the other, "Yes. There is something that you obviously don't want discovered. Besides, there is the question of why you are in the medical profession. You are obviously more well equipped to be out in the middle of the battlefield, yet you are in the middle of Polyhex behind a desk," He chuckles softly, "I'm sure that this is where you saw yourself when you were but a young femme, isn't it?" Turning to Goa, his smile doesn't fade a bit, "If you traced it back to the source, then why do you continue to question?" Shaking his head, he starts towards the door, "If you two want to gossip, feel free. There are plenty of things that I need to take care of, like seeking out Shred's history," He turns back and winks at her, "Scared about what I'm going to find, Shred?"

Shred notices the look from Goa, and her optics flicker, then she looks to Psykeout, her features hardening, "Fine, go to the pits and take a look. Not like you will find anything there.. but considering you aren't a mech used to physical conflict.. you may want to take some bodyguards, or you may not walk out of there. You haven't seen what the empties can do."

From afar, Shred transmits to you, "Please tell me he is not going to find anything about me in the Grease Pits..."

Long distance to Shred: Goa clicks on the radio. "Unlikely."

Goa frowns a fatigued frown, optics barely tracking the medic as he paces restlessly. His antennae twitch backward when Psykeout asks that one, final question. It was far more meaningful a question than it had any right to be... Especially coming from that mech. He looks down at Shred, and then back up, to see Psykeout moving for the exit. The roller's shoulder tires lower, relax. "If vocoder removal is so simple, Shred," Goa mutters, "you think you could teach me sometime?"

Shred smiles, "Sure thing, Goa.. heck, I'll show you with my own.. " sitting herself down, she actually reaches up, and disconnects her head unit at the neck, exposing the vocoder circuitry. It looks very beaten up, but it is connected by three socketed wires.. "Simply disconnect the wires, they are designed to only connect to the correct sockets, then take the unit out, and replace it with a new one."

Goa kneels for a better look. His furrowed antennae speak volumes about surprise -- he hadn't expected her to actually EXPLAIN -- but what the frag, it wouldn't kill him to learn something new. "Maybe not replace," he chuckles, glancing up at the door again. His fingers gloss over the three connections as if counting them. "Was serious about needing to talk to you. Should've right after you lost your memory, but ... well ... there was that whole thing with killing me." He smiles, but seems unsure where to look.

Shred would smile, if her head was connected, "Ok Goa.. ah, I guess as we are now alone, now would be a good time then. What's up? I assume this is about my past.. The fact that.. well, I figure I was an empty, just where though I do not know.. " Shred hmms, "Would you be so kind, anyway, as to reconnect my cranial unit?"

Goa smirks, but his furrowed expression stays as such. "Was serious when I said the walls have eyes, too," he snickers. "And uhh..." he fumbles at the cables for a few nanosecs, quickly finding the biggest, most obvious one he figures must be what she's asking for, and reconnects its two ends. Immediately, he moves his fingers out of the way, like he's afraid of getting zapped. "There. I don't know a lot, Shredder," he rocks backward on his heels, "but Psyke's on the right track. You're from the Dead End."

Shred's optics blink a few moments, and she looks at Goa.. "I'm from the Dead End? Oh slag. That's NOT good." she adjusts her head carefully, locking it into place, "And that is one mech I definitely did not want knowing my past. "

Psykeout walks back through the doors, his face somber and he is obviously feigning pain that isn't there. With a limp, he walks over to one of the med bay’s beds and sits on the edge of it. There is no obvious damage on his frame, other than the normal fluids and scars that adorn his body from his past. The stories that he heard in the Grease Pits and the sheer power that he can wield down there with the mention of one name has given him new direction. He winces as he looks to Shred, but says nothing to either of them. Choosing, instead, to concentrate on the information that he has acquired.

Goa opens his mouth to continue, but snaps it back shut at the sight of a silhouette in the door. He slowly stands up, watching the mech amble by, behaving quite ... bizarre. His helmet turns to follow, resulting in him staring to his side at a nearly 90 degree angle. "Psyyyyyke?" One antenna rises along with the amplitude of his nasal tone.

Shred notices Psykeout walking back in, and she goes quite quiet, nodding to Goa, before she gets to her feet to approach him, "Are you alright, Psykeout? " she looks him over carefully, looking for any definite signs of damage.. not knowing just what the mech has discovered about her past.

Psykeout's optics flicker softly, as he brings his head up to look at the two of them. His face is cold, calculating and taking everything in. There is no doubt that he is going to milk this for all it's worth. His expression shows pain, agony and hatred, while his voice is low and barely audible, "Before I left, you were talking about how I had no friends. You talked about how I made enemies. But yet, I come back through the door and suddenly you're concerned about my well-being? What made you change your mind? Are you truly that weak in your cores? If you don't fight for what you believe in and believe for what you fight for, what is the point of your existence?"

Shred narrows her optics, "I'm going to make this clear to you Psyke. I do not consider you a friend. I do not even like you. What I like even LESS, is the idea that you just went into the grease pits and got yourself damaged, forcing me to repair you when it could very easily have been avoided. That is the ONLY reason I show concern." cracking her knuckle servos, she looks the other mech directly in the optics, "And I see now that you are undamaged. Which means that something other than the expected happened down there."

Goa takes a few strides over to lean on the end of the table, a watchful eye on Shred. He had replies for this speech too. Ones that wouldn't put him in any slag at all. But he just wears an apathetic face, strumming his fingers like he's waiting for something, and the minicon delivers. "Professionalism, Psyker."

Psykeout's optics brighten slightly as he pushes himself off of the med bay’s bed. A smile crosses his face. No. Not a smile. A grin. He obviously knows something. He takes slow steps towards his desk, his vocoder emanating that same low voice, "Oh, there is plenty of things that could've been avoided, Shred. There are plenty of things that I learned," He straightens up and shakes his leg, showing that he truly has no injuries, "You see, your name actually was quite powerful down there, Shred. All I had to do, was mention your name and suddenly, everybody cowered. Nobody wanted to be around me. Nobody wanted to come close to me. Except one. One mech pulled me aside and showed me things that I never knew before," He sits down behind his desk, flicks a button on the side of it and a camera pops up from the corner, "I guess I could tell you everything I learned, but... I think broadcasting it to the entire Empire would be better."

Shred frowns darkly, "I beg your pardon, Psykeout? You plan on broadcasting what you found out about my past to the entire empire, without even checking with Megatron? " she sighs faintly. "Fine, whatever. You are not worth the effort. If my name caused that much fear in Dead End, then the fact that I am no longer there says a lot."

Goa stands in place, turning around when Psykeout abruptly vacates the medical facilities. His back plates flatten out and he makes a couple of quick steps forward when he pulls the blackmail trick, but he slows and steps aside when Shred introduces her judgment. "What are even you /gunning/ at?"

Psykeout turns away from the camera and raises his optic ridges, "Good point. But, I think that the information that I have gleaned down there is more than enough to prove that your presence in the medical bay is rather useless. While you do possess the knowledge, there is more to be had from you being transferred to another department. Another department when I don't have to see your face. Another department when I don't have to look at the one who was nothing more than an empty. An empty who finally decided to make something of themselves. An empty that stole. An empty that meant /nothing/," He pauses and looks to Goa, "You shall find out soon enough, mech." Psykeout laces his fingers together and looks directly into the camera, "Fellow Decepticons... "

========================== Decepticons ===========================

Message: 4/16 Posted Author Information May 28 2010 Psykeout


Psykeout can be seen on the screen, the back wall of the medical bay behind him. He laces his fingers together and leans into the camera, "Fellow Decepticons. We have a traitor in our midst. We have a Decepticon who has come from Dead End. We have a Decepticon who at one time was nothing more than a useless frame with no intention of doing anything to benefit the Empire. That Decepticon is none other than Shred."

He pauses, allowing the dramatic pause before he continues, "I made my way into the Grease Pits and eventually Dead End. During my time in those hellacious places, I found that not only was Shred once an empty, but she was a champion in the Grease Pits. She inspired fear in all...but for what? To make up for the fact that she's smaller than the rest? To make up for the fact that she can't do anything? She has proven time and time again that she is unable to control her emotions..."

Shred's voice can be heard, "...You pathetic Neutral..." Psykeout's face falls and anger can be seen. Fury. Hatred. He grits his teeth together and snarls towards Shred, who is obviously off-camera, "I managed to infiltrate Iacon and bring a hostage back to Shockwave. Do /not/ question my motives..." He reaches over, almost absent-mindedly and shuts off the camera.

<Decepticon Spinny>

==================================================================

Shred looks at Psykeout, quite stunned by Psykeout's words for a moment, then she growls darkly, "Arrogant bastard. You have no slagging idea what life is like. How DARE you Judge me? You, who weren't even created a Decepticon yourself. You pathetic Neutral. At least I was always a Decepticon."

From afar, Shred radios, "Goa, let him say what he wants to. Megatron knows my past, I am sure. and he still made me head medic."

Goa tilts his helmet, baring his teeth. Twitching so much as he is, it looks like his emotional core is trying to get him to move against his own will. But suddenly, he glances over at Shred, looks at Psykeout again with nothing short of the slag pit’s fire in his eyes, and steps ... backwards. Perching on the end of a medical table, he hunches over, steepling his hands neatly in front of his shins.

Psykeout's face falls and anger can be seen. Fury. Hatred. He grits his teeth together and snarls towards Shred, "I managed to infiltrate Iacon and bring a hostage back to Shockwave. Do /not/ question my motives, Shred. I brought back that Autobot and laid them out at Shockwave's feet. For megacycles, I kept that Autobot alive and managed to extract information for the Empire. I was originally created to be a mediator, but found my love in torture. I wanted to watch Autobots die. I was double-crossed by an Autobot and since that time, have sworn my very existence to destroying the rest of them," He takes a few steps closer to Shred, "DO NOT QUESTION MY DEDICATION TO THE EMPIRE, SHRED. I will gladly die for the Empire, if that is what is required of me. I have performed my duties and I do NOT appreciate them being brought into question. I have been double-crossed enough in the past and refuse to let it happen again."

Shred simply shakes her head, "You think that your broadcast changes even one slagging thing, Psykeout? As I said, Megatron knows my past. If I became a champion, it is because I wanted something more than a life of hell in Dead End. You have questioned me at the absolute minimum since I lost my memory. And now you seek to destroy me? You're a damned fool. You call me a traitor? How exactly do my origins as an empty make me that? How does it make me any less dedicated than you to the empire? You know I purged my own memory banks. Did it ever occur to you to think WHY? My neural net was infiltrated by a hostile organism. I could not permit it to access my memories because I had access to a lot of sensitive information. "

Goa raises his head, mentally recording every bit of Psykeout's speech. Had he known that, he wouldn't have given him such a hard time ... /such/ a hard time, anyway. He shifts, idly, to his feet during the yelling match, his own anger having melted to a curious look.

Psykeout's optics narrow to mere slits and his voice is guttural, almost non-existent, "There will be a time when your white knight won't be here, Shred. There's going to be a time when you're going to be recharging and unable to defend yourself. It will be at those moments that you need to keep one optic open." He looks back to Goa, "There's a mech in the Abandoned Shopping Mall who can knock out that scar. I'll still keep an eye out for the rest of the crystal." He makes his way towards the exit again, staring at Shred as he leaves. His face is still cold, calculating and seeking a weakness, "One nanocycle, Shred. That's all it's going to take. One fraggin' nanocycle."

Shred sighs, "Psyke, you just don't get it. You forced me to go on the offensive. You said it yourself, I was an empty. I had to fight every slagging picocycle to survive. Having purged my memory, what do you think was left? My core program. The drive to survive. No matter what. So what if I had to steal. I am not an empty now. I am the head of the Medical bay. And I got the position because I EARNED it. "

Psykeout stares at Shred and holds his hand up, then raised a single finger and mouthed the word 'one.'

Shred sighs, "Goa, go. Psyke, come here. Perhaps I did step out of line. But so did you. I however am willing to put it behind me. Can you not say the same? Did I ever directly question your loyalty to the empire? Or are you that fried, you take my response to your attack on me as something personal, as opposed to an act of self defense?"

Goa keeps his sensors keenly attuned to every hint, real and imagined, dropped by the enigmatic mech, teetering on the edge of awkwardness as his bobbing, chicken-ish gaze doesn't really befit a fighter. He snaps his audials back flush to his helmet and re-lids his optics, "... certainly, ma'am." He gives Shred a look, then takes long steps toward and straight through the med bay door, making no effort to brush or not brush shoulders with Psykeout as he passes by.

From afar, Shred radios, "Goa, I don't like to have asked you to leave, but I think this is something I need to talk out with Psyke.. alone. I should not have overstepped the mark like that with him."

Long distance to Shred: Goa radios, tersely, "Key this frequency every half-breem."

From afar, Shred radios: “I will do, Goa. Trust me, I'll be fine.”

Psykeout takes a step out of the way of the doorway, staring at Goa as he makes his way towards the door. He waits patiently as he does. Once Goa is gone from the room, he snaps his head back to Shred. Taking deliberate steps towards her, he stands as tall as he can and crosses his arms over his chest. A snarl is his response, to start with. This isn't going the way that he thought it was going to. This isn't going the way that he expected to. Frag... this wasn't going well at all. Shred managed to out-psychologize the psychologist. Now he had to figure out how to get out of it. Psykeout looks up towards the ceiling and sighs, "So many have tried to discount my contribution to the Empire. So often, I am brushed off, because my fighting skills aren't up to par with the rest of the Empire. Hence why it took so much for me to be accepted into the Empire. It's not something that I like to broadcast across the Empire, but... it's out there now. I have fought for everything that I have, much like yourself. However, my fight has been more about proving myself with my mind, then with my fists." He takes a step back and pulls a chair over. Once comfortable in the chair, he crosses his legs and wraps his hands across his knees. This was done more to make sure that Shred understood that he didn't feel threatened by her and she shouldn't feel the same about him. A mutual respect of sorts...

Shred nods, and as Psyke sits down, she taps a few buttons on her console, quite blatantly deactivating the med lab cameras, and she also gets out her Glaive, putting it on one side, out of quick reach. "I do not plan to discount you Psykeout, I never did. You have now revealed to the entire empire the fact that I used to be an empty. How do you honestly think that is going to affect my existence? The only other mechs up until now who knew that about my past for sure are Megatron, Slipstream and Goa. Because I deleted most of the records about myself.. At least, according to Goa I did. I'm willing to call a truce with you, Psykeout. As you can see, I have set aside my weapons, and disconnected the cameras in here. I did not know how you had earned your position until you told me, hell, I did not even remember how I earned my own position. But I can respect you, Psykeout. It's obvious you have drive to spare, not unlike myself. What do you say?"

Psykeout leans forward on the chair, his optics narrowing to slits. He watches her every movement, from putting the glaive to the side and pushing buttons on the console. A thought of attacking her as she pushed the buttons raced through his mind, but he showed restraint. Straightening out slightly, he listened to what she had to say, unlacing his fingers and laying the tips of them together underneath his chin, "There is the possibility that my neural circuitry needs to be examined. Not the actual circuitry itself, but perhaps I need to take a look at myself and my position in the Empire. Take a long look at myself and discover who I am," He pauses, tapping the tips of his fingers together, "Every cycle, I question myself. Question my actions. Question my very existence. I am only barely above one of the ridiculous gumbies that make their home here," He waves his hand around the room, "I can perform at a higher level than that, but... It doesn't happen. Constantly, I find myself at the bottom rung of the proverbial ladder." He leans back in his chair, "Now, all of that being said. I do have the drive. Whenever I feel down, I look at Megatron and what he has accomplished. Then I question why I can't do the exact same thing, but in the Medical Bay. Why can't I get to that point? So, I find that you are in my way. You block my ascension. You block me from getting what I so desire..." Psykeout drifts off, choosing his words carefully, "You asked what I say. I assume that you're offering a truce of sorts," He pauses again, concentrating on that particular word. Truce. Camaraderie. His optics flicker slightly, "A truce could be possible, Shred. But, in the interest of complete honesty, what's in it for me?"

Shred smiles, listening as Psykeout speaks, "You ask what is in it for you, if you make a truce with me? Well, I'll be blunt with you. What is in it for you is that we will work together as equals. Both together running the med bay. I will put a good word in with Megatron for you, see if he will make it official. Most of the time, he tends to listen to me. I may not have considered you a friend before, but I am willing to give it a try. I know you do not think company is important, but, it always helps to have a person you can turn to for assistance, in any situation."

Psykeout is visibly startled at what Shred has to say, taking everything she has said to heart. He hangs his head slightly at the show of respect, as though he's completely taken aback by the way things have ended. Pushing himself out of the chair, he moves towards the door and allows it to open. The soft whoosh fills the soundless room. The gumbies have all stopped working, most of which have left the room. Only one remained, cowering in the corner. He knows all too well the abilities of Psykeout and Shred, wanting to anger neither of them. Looking over his shoulder, he smiles towards Shred. Not a malicious smile. Not the evil smile so many have seen just before they cease functioning. A genuine smile. Perhaps he had actually turned a new leaf. Then again, perhaps he was just working towards his eventual goal and aiming to achieve his own goals... by himself, as he had done so many times before. Only time would tell his true intentions. His voice was deep as he spoke, "Friends. We shall try, Shred..." He drifts off, obviously struggling to get the words out in the way that he wants, "Time will tell what each of us is truly aiming for." He takes another step towards the door, "Thank you, Shred. Thank you for everything..."

Megatron storms into the Repair bay, looking mad as all heck. "Why are my cameras off?" Megatron bellows, his bright red optics trained on Shred and Psykeout. "ANSWER!" Megatron demands as he enters, catching Psykeout before he leaves.

Shred smiles to Psykeout, clicking a button to reactivate the cameras, "Apologies, Lord Megatron, I deactivated the cameras myself, so that I could have an honest talk with Psykeout, and he would know I was not merely trying to fool him. We have.. come to an arrangement together, and a truce. I believe we both understand each other far better now."

Psykeout moves to the corner and lets Shred explain. It's been a rather draining cycle and he doesn't have the energy to deal with outsmarting Megatron.

A stern warning from Megatron follows, "DO NOT deactivate the security cameras! They are here for your safety, or do you forget our most recent intruder so easily?!" Megatron eyes Shred as she informs him that she was the one who deactivated the cameras. He seems quite upset that she turned off the cameras, especially so soon..

From afar, Shred taps her comm, letting you know she is still alright.

Shred sighs faintly, "Understood, Lord Megatron. You will notice that the cameras were deactivated a mere two cycles ago, and myself and Psykeout have however been in here that whole time. It will not be happening again, however. Nobody has entered or left the med bay during that time, until your own arrival, sir."

Long distance to Shred: Goa clicks twice, then says, "Good luck with Megs."

Psykeout looks to Shred, then back to Megatron and notes the lack of anger. Normally, he would've blown up. But, apparently with everything that has happened lately, his neural net is obviously elsewhere. He offers Shred one final glance as he brushes by Megatron and goes out into Polyhex. So much to consider. So many things have been done. Things that can't be taken back. Information that can't be unsaid. A mutual respect between himself and Shred. But, for how long? Constantly questioning. Constantly wondering. Paranoia has begun to set in to Psykeout's mind. But, how debilitating will it be?

From afar, Shred radios: I may need it. However, I think I have made.. a truce with Psykeout. We have a newfound respect for one another.

You paged Shred with 'There's a moment of open static on the radio, then Goa transmits, "Good."

"And that is two cycles too many, Shred. That is two cycles for that liquid Mech to get in here, and wreak havoc with MY Repair bay!" Megatron hollers, continuing to chastise Shred. "You are quite correct in that it will NOT happen again, as your next shift will be spent shoveling slag out from the furnace, while you think about this!"

Shred shrugs, "As you wish, Lord Megatron. I did what I had to do. Which would you prefer I did, take a momentary chance by turning the cameras off, or that myself and Psykeout proved unable to function due to inherent distrust between us, sir?"

Megatron growls, "You could have easily kept the cameras on, Shred. But I am glad that you were able to work things out with your subordinate." Megatron adds, noting that he does not need his army divided against itself.

Shred nods, "Understood sir. Now, I am sorry, but I need to get to a recharge cycle. It has been.. tiring.. and after Psykeout's unfortunate announcement now the fact I used to be an empty is all over Polyhex."

Megatron nods, indicating Shred can be dismissed. Megatron remains in the repair bay, obviously thinking about something.

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