Log Title: What's in the Vault?
Location: Iacon Medical Center
Date: April 05, 2016
Summary: Blaster and Punch interrogate a prisoner that has been held in Iacon since Galvatron's defeat.
As logged by Sweep Two - Tuesday, April 05, 2016, 8:22 PM
Iacon Medical Center <IMC> - Iacon
- The Iacon Medical Center isn't as new and flashy as the medical wing of Autobot City, but it serves its purpose. Spare
parts and supplies are limited, however, so Iacon doctors and medics have to make do with what they have. Med tables are set up around the room, as well as some ancient-looking scanners. Some of the tools look like they were new when Alpha Trion was young, but they still work, so waste not, want not.
- Sweep Two
This Sweepcraft doesn't look much like a Sweep at all. Its blue and silver body sports wings loaded down with attack weaponry, and an external sensor pod that can expand to take in more data if needed, or retract to protect itself from excessive radiation. Intricate runes are imbedded along the Sweep's surface, and on the prow of the ship is a stylized yellow sigil that resembles the face of Unicron.
The Iacon Medical Center is still teaming with medics and volunteers helping the remaining victims still recovering from the attack on Trion Square. Everyone is being helped - Autobots, civilians, even the few alien visitors who were unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. At the same time, everyone who can is helping - even non-medics with some technical skill, like Blaster.
At the moment Blaster is taking a break between cases, taking a moment to scrub used energon and oil off his tired hands. On the way back he happens upon the cryo-chamber containing Sweep Two. "Hey, Fixit! What kind of tunes you have in the vault?" he asks, crooking his thumb at the chamber. He turns to peer into the chamber and at the strange craft within.
A figure's been emboding the art of hiding in plain sight for some time now. He'd technically be a patient if he'd bothered anyone to check him out. Instead he's been moving boxes, fetching this, carrying that and taking breaks from both. In fact he's just returned from one of those breaks right now. Typically patients don't get to take smoke breaks. After re-entering the building he deftly palms a diagnostic unit, takes a quick reading and places it back where he found it. Punch smiles. the moment of weakness has passed. Fortunately there's still good to do. So he goes to see what needs doing.
Fixit looks up from working on Oiler and frowns, his tired red face twisting into a grimace of annoyance at the interruption by Blaster. "That is an injured prisoner," he explains. "And a low priority right now. Why don't you get started on Gripper if you're looking for something to do."
Blaster grins at Fixit, but isn't so easily deterred. Glancing around, he spots Punch. "Hey, dude!" he yells loudly across the busy room. "You're Bee's data guy, right? What song can you sing about this guy?" His crooks his thumb again at Sweep Two.
Unfortunately, not much is known about him - he doesn't match any of Scourge's known Sweeps, and he seemed to follow the resurrected Galvatron, rather than stay loyal to the Decepticons after Megatron's death (Megatron got better). Optimus Prime fought him in space over Polyhex when that city got reformatted into an alien landscape, and Sweep Two has been here ever since.
Punch sets the load he was bearing down to its intended destination. In a mix of a wave and salute Punch smiles brightly ands says, "Hey Blaster. Good to see you. Give me a beat or two and I'll give you what I got." Punch walks over to the mystery patient. Looking him up and down Punch's smile flickers ever so briefly.
Unicronian construction is less well documented amongst the Autobots and the Decepticons. And this one isn't even that.
However, that's the beauty of intelligence though. Things that don't fit are things he can work with. Eventually he says, "Just at a glance I got some lyrics that might go with the music you got. Only models of sweeps I seen before were trackers. Primarily designed for sensory efficiency, to be a walking detection suite. Turning to a singular talent usually leaves you fit for only that task. This could just be a different design. An offensive model to attack what the sweeps of old find. Without... checking a few details I couldn't be more sure but that looks like the basic deal. Anyone talked to him?" Punch nods at the sweep.
Blaster looks over towards Fixit. "Hey, Fixit!" he calls out obnoxiously again. "Anyone talk to this guy?"
Fixit glances up in irritation again. "No. He's been offline since I was transferred here. If you want to mess with him, have at it." Fixit finishes up with Oiler and moves on to Gripper himself, shaking his head.
"Alright!" Blaster enthuses, taking that more as permission than a brushoff. Humming to himself as speakers mounted in his legs play matching music, he defrosts the cryo chamber. It hisses as Blaster opens it up and takes a few astrominutes to examine this new curiosity before making a few reconnections and - voila - the strange Sweep comes on line for the first time in maybe 2 stellar cycles. The golden runes etched all over its body glow to life.
The Sweep shudders as it tries to transform and fails. "Where am I?" it emits. "Where is Galvatron?" Poor guy. He apparently doesn't know that Megatron came back from the dead and killed Galvatron himself. Blaster glances at Punch like he's enjoying the situation. "Well, well, well. Guess we're rappin' with now!" he enthuses.
"Easy there." Punch starts taking a step towards the sweep. "I am Punch. You are one small step from perceptual crash. Severely injured. You'll do your master no good dead." Punch looks at the Sweep bobbing his head a little trying to get a read on its awareness and co-ordination. "You're in a guarded medical facility in a even better guarded fortress. Could be better... could be worse."
Slighting a cig but not lighting it Punch says, "Lets talk. Question for question. Depending how that goes... I'll see what I can do." Punch loads the cig into his mouth and goes though the motions as if he were smoking it. Checking complex situational relationships. "If you understand just answer my question and ask yours. What is your name?"
After a long pause, the Sweep answers, "I am designate Two of glorious Galvatron's Sweep armada." It shudders again, but seems unable to transform or even activate its engines or sensor arrays.
Blaster for once quiets (aside from the music from his speakers), opting instead to observe the interaction between the "Data collator" and the Sweep in relative silence.
"Who are you?" the Sweep asks in return. "In what fortress have I been imprisoned?"
"Ah-ah-ah..." Punch starts. "Question for question. I'll let you off with it this time as I already told you those. My name is Punch. You are in a secure medical facility. Within a secure region of Cybertron. So. Two. Since you didn't ask anything you hadn't been told and since your memory banks might be feeling the strain on this... I'll give you a freebie. Ask away. One question." Good. The war machine is messed up. His reactions are off and should feel hellish enough that he'll not feel up to a fight. As Punch is already pushing it waving an unlit cig about in a hospital. Drawing his mortar and shooting a patient at point blank range would mean... paperwork. Punch hates paperwork. He'll get through this and won't have to deal with that nightmare.
There is another long pause, and the golden runes across the Sweep's skin flicker slightly in a way that suggests power isn't conducting regularly or smoothly across its systems. It definitely doesn't look capable of putting up a fight even if it was inclined to. After several astrominutes it emits a series of clicking noises and repeats, "Where is Galvatron?"
Blaster gives Punch a look, but doesn't mention the cig nor interrupt his interaction with the injured prisoner.
"Hmm. You're already running down. We may have to turn this chat into a chat-ette. Before I answer, full disclosure. You may not believe me. Which, given the circumstances, is fair. I'll return in our next talk with whatever proof I can to back up this statement." Punch thinks for a moment and nods, "Okay that's the final bargaining."
"I bring proof of this statement and you remain as that which your master would expect. Calm. Objective. Not subject to succumbing to mere emotion." He pauses even longer this time. "Galvatron is no more. Where his remains lie I do not know."
Punch still is twiddling with the cig as if he were outside on a self applied break. His left hand is ready to draw, fire and keep firing until naught but dust remains. Should Two choose poorly.
The Sweep begins to shudder horribly, the runes along its skin flashing brightly as intermittent flashes of energy ripple over its surface. "No..." it emits, succumbing to mere emotion. "That cannot be true. Galvatron cannot be stopped. He is immortal. His power is everything - defeat is absurd." And yet, doubt can be detected in the Sweep's voice, as if it's trying to convince itself as tries to denies the truth.
Snap decision. Punch drops the cig and bends a little. To best catch Sweep Two's gaze. "Listen to me." Punch says simply. "For now, I agree, what I say are mere words. I will follow through with deed though and provide proof sufficient of what I say. However. If you burn out your brain unit before I can do anything it's a wasted effort. Remain calm. Regain your strength. Rest until it is time."
Punch suspects the Unicronians were influenced by more than the torture program they all carried. There's a degree of doctrine. The right words, in the right order, mesh with that belief system and may as well be coming from that believed in higher power itself. It better be as Punch REALLY doesn't want to do that paperwork.
The Sweep shudders for another moment, and then finally stills. "I will remain calm," it states finally. "I will regain my strength. Even if what you say it true, it is only a matter of time before Galvatron returns once more. Unicron is immortal, as is His Chosen Son. He will return, and all prisoners will be freed. The unbelievers will be punished. Cybertron will be ours." The Sweep falls silent, and the runes on its skin power down to a pale glow.
Blaster looks at Punch with optic ridges raised.
Punch hauls himself up to his full height and immediately says to Blaster, "If you could. Help him rest." i.e. Sedate him. You know that sedative? Yeah. That. Stasis or whatever can wait. Sweep need sleep now. Punch approaches and takes the datapad concerning Sweep Two. Punch says nothing out loud and, even once he's certain the Sweep's under he waits further.
Waving Blaster over Punch says, "Make sure his physician gets these updated treatment options. Do not let them deviate from these. It's important." Punch speaks with all the authority and feeling that other, greater, people use all the time.
Punch's listed notes include increasing any sedation to one hundred and fifty percent of normal based on physiology, some notes on how to disable the sensory baud and weapons systems on the sweep without uninstallation and to request for him to not be transferred without advanced notice to intel.
"Sorry, I'm kinda beat. I'm gonna have to make a move. That cool with you?" Punch says in what most people'd say is more normally for him.
Blaster looks over the notes with interest, and grins. "I like your tune," he says after a moment. "I'll play this beat myself." He glances over at Fixit, who might potentially object to some of these proscriptions, and slowly puts the note away. What Fixit doesn't know won't hurt him. "Take a station break, cat. I got this." He smiles down at Punch with a mix of admiration and curiosity, and then turns to Two, putting Punch's suggestions into immediate effect.