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2016-02-07 Details Later

From Transformers: Lost and Found

Details Later
Date 2016/02/07
Location Lost Light - Science and Medical - Medibay
Participants Slugfest, Brainstorm, First Aid, Punch
Summary Punch finally visits the medibay and gets himself a scan. An experiment gone awry leads Brainstorm to the medibay as well.

Red crosses on the door identify at a quick glance the medibay. Inside, the forward medical bay contains a half-dozen slabs lining the sides of the room where the medical staff can take care of patients. There is a central slab as well, but the winches and pulleys, carts of tools, and life support machinery is all designed to be easily reconfigured to support any number of patients at any of the seven beds.

At the back of the room, there is a large work station dominated by a large screen that includes two holoemitters. Two doors at the back of the room lead to cold storage, where patients in need of better care than the medibay can provide -- rare as that is -- can be put into stasis. Offices for the medical officers are on the other side.


A conversation is traveling down the corridor. Only parts of half of it can be heard. Like this...

"I'm going!"

Pause

"Yes. I repeat again. Thank you. for all the invasion of privacy... and the help."

Longer pause

"Yeah? you too! Twice! With a rake! Okay. Thanks old friend. I'm going in now. You owe me one... and I owe you about a million. Take care."

As Punch steps into medical itself he can be seen deactivating his commlink. For someone who's survived by knowing that little bit more than most... he silently concedes he's not liking being the mech who knew too little. So he waits. A deal's a deal, after all...


First Aid is in his own little corner of the medibay seeing as it's mostly empty, save for the pair of lingering, recharging mechs in the opposite corner. The voices in the corridor prompt him to look up from his work, and to his /great/ surprise, in steps Punch. "Punch...? Are you lost? Mess hall's further down..."


There was a retort... but First Aid's witty repartee disarmed it. Instead Punch laughs softly and sincerely. "I didn't take that long to get here did I?" Punch manages after the chuckle subsides. "I mean if it's a bad time to get looked over... I can wait or come back later. Whatever is easiest for you." Punch stands looking as proud and composed as he usually does. Like he usually does though, there's a nervousness he's burying deep, deep down.


First Aid slowly puts down his tools, still staring at Punch from across the bay. "You're serious." Question or statement, it's unclear. "No, now's fine. I... I guess I'd assumed you were lying. Uh. Right. Just sit on the edge here." He gestures to a nearby medtable. "Was there anything physically bothering you that I should take a look at in particular or do you just want the usual? The usual involves a few questions, I should warn you. You feeling generous?"


"The usual. Sounds fine." Punch says with the remaining confidence he's got. He takes a nice deep vent in and out. Just think of the others. Just gotta get past this. Got past worse already. Just. Stay. Calm. "No physical complaints. I had a few stress related issues I had to work through but..." Punch permits himself a solid smile "...they're ancient history now." Never thought he'd say that.


There's suddenly a slight rumbling noise, and then a tiny stego tiptoes into the medbay. He pauses, looks up, then heads for a vacant examination slab. Then there's that sound again. As Slugfest climbs up and sprawls on the exam table, it appears the sound is coming from his middle. "Must have had bad energon," he murmurs.


The medibay's busy today, isn't it? The door slides open once more to reveal another visitor -- Brainstorm. The engineer holds himself at a somewhat forward angle, and there's a look of discomfort in his optics. While it might be difficult discern the cause from the front, anyone standing behind him could easily spot the problem in the form of a brand new, irregular crest of metal spines lodged in what in his jet mode would be his nosecone. Said bit of kibble happens to presently be part of his back, and thus, fairly difficult to reach. A particularly large shard shifts when he tries to straighten out a bit, causing him to promptly give up on the attempt with a wince of pain. There are a few cuts on one of his arms, and the corresponding shoulder marking the former presence of similar bits.

Spotting First Aid, he raises a hand to catch his attention "I can see you're busy, but do you have a moment?"


First Aid knows that venting cadence. "Relax Punch. What do you think I'm going to do, slice you in half?" He pats the mech's shoulder (if Punch doesn't duck out of it) and turns to power up a big ceiling-mounted scanner. It appears the only requirement is that Punch be nearby, and as it begins a full scan a few feet away, First Aid turns back to face him, datapad in hand. "Sportscar still, yes? Do you recall the last place you were given any sort of treatment? And may I assume you hadn't gone to Rung about these stress-related issues..."

In comes the stego. "Something wrong with your tanks I imagine," First Aid guesses from afar, and he's about to give Slugfest a quick fix without straying too far from Punch, before Brainstorm comes in. He doesn't notice the shards yet, nor the scratches. "We're good until this thing finishes scanning. What's the matter?" Slugfest finally gets a few kibbles-n-bits-shaped pills to chew on. Only a few.


Accepting the pat as a lifeline that it is Punch just does his best to comply. "Last field repair was by Mercy to my hand. On Junkion. Day before Reboot Day. I've had patches and repairs post accident with training programs... Last of which would have been a ship's week ago. Haven't had a full scan since I came on board and there may be discrepancies in my records..." Punch's brow furrows as he tries to think of a short way to explain that. "...I'll come back to the details on that later."

Punch pauses to move on to the next part of the debrief. It isn't. He's just treating it like one. More familiar. "Still a sportscar, Earth based model. However it's a slightly different model to my last reliable scan."

He pauses at the idea of seeing a psychiatric professional for his issues. He's trained to only convey what he wants to even if trained operatives trying to extract information using any means necessary. He's set the standards in many cases. Punch then says, "The stress related issues were coping with the deactivation of my commission. I stuck to the operating parameters set out to all agents having to maintain deep cover." Yeah, he wrote the book on that too.


Brainstorm winces again as he makes another attempt to straighten out a bit. "So you know that corrosive I was working on? It works. Not as well as I'd hoped it would, but it thinned out the test box wall pretty well. It also turned out to be very unstable. Still figuring out why" he doesn't sound particularly distressed by this development. In fact, he explains the situation quite eagerly, though a pained note clearly slips in to his voice, more so when he moves deeper in to the room. "Anyways, I was standing near it when it went of and, well..." he nods towards his shoulder. Take a look for yourself "Hey Punch, Slugfest."


"Details, huh." It seems First Aid won't question the slight alt change, moving on to run his stylus over Punch's arm. "Servomusculature in your arm had been torn at one point... and sutured in a manner that's unconventional of the Autobot medic standard method." Could be one of a few harmless reasons for it, unaffiliated repairs aren't too uncommon, so First Aid doesn't think much of it. But a check box gets checked, somewhere. "Or... Huh. My mistake. Not just your arm. That's some intensive structural work." There's a pause, and First Aid gives him a look. You going to explain it or must I prompt you? it seems to say. But Punch's explanation of stress seems to pass /some/ kind of test. "I'd be more stressed over the fact that you seem to have been gutted."

When Brainstorm reveals that he is, in fact, injured, First Aid sets his datapad down to see to Brainstorm. "Cripes Brainstorm, when you're hurt just say 'I'm hurt!'" He looks him over critically, and finally guides him to sit on an adjacent table. "Don't... lay down. Corrosive did this? Shards of your test box? Let me just... dampen your sensors a little. Stay still."


Risking messing up the scan, Punch waves to Brainstorm, "We all suffer for our craft sometimes." Punch adds directing his words towards the resident supergenius. Punch looks back to First Aid and his smile intensifies. "Yes! Gutted! Sorry. I just wanted to save the across several days with diagrams version. That, though is a good compact and accurate way to explain. When I left my former position I couldn't just hand in any field equipment I possessed as, in most cases it was in-built. So I had it all removed across a couple of sessions."

Punch looks to First Aid with a mixture of desperation and frustration before saying "... I can't really discuss in detail what, if any inventory, I carried at that time. So I can't be too specific. But, yes, gutting all that out. I also didn't have the luxury of doing it at Iacon General... if that makes sense?" Punch says hoping it does. Paperwork. Really the worst.


Slugfest nibbles his pills quietly, with the occasional audible *crunch crunch crunch*. He stays sprawled on the slab while he waits for the meds to work. The stego's middle makes a few more audible complaints while he munches.


Brainstorm allows First Aid to guide him to the table, although sitting on it is a somewhat different question. It takes him a couple moments to position himself so that he can get up on it with minimal movement with the aid of his undamaged hand, and even then what can be seen of his face contorts in pain. Once on it, he shifts a bit to get himself comfortable, and lets the medic do his job "Corrosive weakened the container and made it blow up. There might still be some on the pieces. I haven't checked" during this whole process, he listens to Punch's story with some interest. Might as well, since he's here anyways. Slugfest's noises don't go unnoticed either "I call dibs on the remains for research when he blows up" he announces in a cheerful, most likely joking, tone, pointing at the stegobot with his good hand.


First Aid is busy clamping lines in Brainstorm's shoulder when he comes upon the array of shards jammed in the nosecone on his back. Ah, slag. He's still listening to Punch all the while, digging around in drawers to find the proper pliers for the task. "He's not going to blow up - ! Punch, you're not going to blow up," he feels the need to assure, in case Punch loses his will and decides to make a run for it. Punch's explanations are curiosity-inducing to be sure, but unless it truly pertains to his health, First Aid wouldn't press. The reasoning is more or less sound. "Alright, fair enough. I'll look at the scans shortly. Would you mind helping out here? I'd summon a nurse but it seems /I'm/ the only nurse on duty right now." It's an arduous task of prying the shards out from Brainstorm's shoulder with pliers and standing at the ready in case any of them had nicked fuel lines or continued to eat away at his innards. There's pain, but it's dulled, somewhat. "Is there a chance you'll come back to a giant hole in your workshop's floor, Brainstorm..."


Finally. A moment. It calls. Punch acts as he only knows how. By First Aids side in a single step, pliers in hand almost as if they were already in his hand the whole time Punch looks carefully at the medics actions before assisting. "If it helps..." Punch says between pulling out shards "... Wiggle before you pull. Whenever a fragmentation round's got me I noticed that you can feel the extra pressure on the lateral movement if it's going to bleed." Punch says casually. If it wasn't used on him at some point... it hasn't been invented.


"Had pills, shouldn't blow up," Slugfest murmurs as he's still sprawled on his side. Little by little the kibbles n bots pills are working, as his insides are decidedly less noisy for now.


"No, it would take it cycles, if not megacycles to chew threw the floor" Brainstorm reassures First Aid, doing his best to sit still "Unless it blows up again, but I don't think there was that -- ai! -- that much of it left" carefully, he turns his head to try and get a look at what's going on behind him while trying not to move the rest of himself. At least, until Punch makes his suggestion. The engineer jerks slightly but noticeably, and turns further to look between Punch and First Aid, looking a bit nervous, and betrayed "No, don't wiggle" isn't he in enough pain here already?


First Aid glances sidelong at Punch. "Were we on the field I'd try it. Time is everything there. But..." Brainstorm makes it clear wiggling is not good. "...We don't want to cause the patient more harm, right? Remind me the next time you get shrapnel'd, and I'll test it on you." There's a smile in his tone. "He's going to bleed anyhow, at least around here." He gestures to the nosecone itself. "Generally jets have a major fuel line near the beginning of the fuselage. It'd be easier to reach of he transformed, but that would be a bad idea right now... I'm going to pull a bunch out at once. Here's the sealer gun," he tosses Punch something that looks like an airbrush, tethered to a cord. "It's straight-forward, just hold it over the wounds when I clear them." He plants one foot against the base of the medtable, for leverage. "Ready Brainstorm? Perhaps you should exercise some lab safety next time." A few heavy yanks has a trio of large, warped metal shards clattering to the ground.


Eventually, the little stego feels good enough to unsprawl and pull himself up so that he can tuck his feet under him and look around. "Hi, Brainstorm!" he says belatedly. "Wasn't feeling good before, but I feel better now! Thanks, First Aid!" The stego's tail swishes a wag on the surface of the slab.


Punch, used to working as part of a unit in the field, specifically the part that takes orders complies with First Aid's instructions as they're rolled out. Before he gets handed the gun Punch does say through his smile, "You do understand if I don't go out of my way to get injured just to discuss the finer points of medicine.", catches the gun and glances back and forward between where First Aid's working and First Aid himself. So he can tell when and where he needs to. Once the larger trio get removed Punch deftly fills the cracks in with sealant. As soon as he can he moves back to allow First Aid to work further.


Despite the numbing, and the warning, Brainstorm still yelps when First Aid pulls out the shards, jerking involuntarily away from him and Punch. He remains tense as Punch applies the sealant, though eventually he begins to relax a bit again "These things happen every now and then" he dismisses the medic's suggestion nonchalantly "If I wasted my time being overcautious, I'd never get anything done!"


"I don't know about your consumption habits Slugfest, but be careful about what you try to ingest." First Aid manages, shaking out his free hand.

"You're lucky these missed your head!" he chides Brainstorm upon hearing the excuse. "See how much you get done when you're laid up here for a month." Before long, Brainstorm's free of foreign bodies, and sealed up for the most part, leaving Punch and First Aid a little smattered with energon. "Nicely done Punch. You'll make a medic yet." His visor curves upwards as he jests.


"Careful, I might just apply for a transfer." Punch says to First Aid, just and no more, holding his laughter in check. His grin shows how close a tiebreaker it is though. "Brainstorm, I'd watch out. He can, and will, put a medical hold on you. I know. I was subject to a few myself." Punch neglects to mention that he promptly escaped medical each time to... mainly smoke but, on some luckier occasions, other things too. Besides the point though. Not worth mention and confuses the issue.


"I'll be fine" Brainstorm waves his hand dismissive as he tries straightens out to test what's left of his injuries. It still hurts a bit, but not so much that he can't move around "If he does that, I'll just appeal to Knock Out. He doesn't like me hanging around anyways" sliding off the table, he stretches, carefully at first, then more boldly, before looking over at First Aid again "But thanks!"


"I don't know if you could put up with the doctors here," First Aid replies to Punch, playfully dismissive. At the mention of getting around a medical hold via Knock Out, his visage hardens. Clearly this makes him grumpy. "You're welcome," he says flatly.

"Punch, you're not free just yet. Let me just..." Finally peeling his gaze away from Brainstorm (not to glare, just to make sure he can move!), First Aid turns to pick through Punch's readouts. "Nothing sticks out. But I'm a little worried about that extra space in your internals. Debris can build and make things complicated... Maybe see a body specialist about making your body more space efficient. I think Knock Out did stuff like that..."


"Think there was a bad batch of energon at the bar," Slugfest says, "I'll be careful next time." He winces at the shards being pulled out of Brainstorm. "How'd that happen to you, Brainstorm?"


Smiling, smirking then cracking Punch says through a giggle, "If you thought I had a weight management problem you could've just cam out and said it!" He's been called many things in his time but that's a new one! Recomposing himself Punch says, "Absolutely. Do I need to see anyone specially or can I make an appointment with any of the medical team?" Punch asks as he's going to follow advice. So why not do so properly?


"One of my experiments blew up on me" Brainstorm summarizes for Slugfest "Metal corrosive that turned out to also be an explosive" now that he no longer looks like he's trying on the porcupineformer look, he should probably get going. He does not. Instead, he steps around First Aid to try and peer over the medic's shoulder at the readouts, giving Punch a curious look along the way "You sure you can't say what you had in there?"


First Aid scrolls through the readouts. He's about to doubt that Punch would even return, but he /did/ show up today. Maybe he deserves some trust. "Anyone can make plans to optimize your body. But if you ever need that old field equipment installed on you again, well, it won't be easy to reverse. It'd be a task and a half." He notably doesn't move away as Brainstorm peeks.


"The list of what I haven't had in there, at one point or another, is something that was never classified and a lot shorter." Punch pauses after explaining to Brainstorm. "Yeah, that about covers it! If you're curious about in built hardware and ever want a discussion in the more general sense of field equipment that may have existed and how agents may or may not have found it useful... I'm sure I could find someone to drop by and discuss it with you sometime." Punch smiles. There's a point or two in there. Now matter how verbose.

Turning to First Aid and patting him gently and as affectionately as possible Punch says brightly, "I am happy to say that, like many other things, is something I have long since moved on from. So when I would need it next... is never. Things change. Never knew it included myself. Just to check though, that aside... we're okay here? It's all done?"


Slugfest ohs quietly. "Be more careful with corrosives?" he offers. He's still loafed on the examination slab, the last of his tummy troubles going away.


"Not you too" Brainstorm gives Slugfest a slightly annoyed look "Like I siad, I'll be fine" really, you can't make a science omelet without breaking a few explosive eggs! Turning back to Punch, the engineer nods "I'll be looking forward to it"


Welp, Punch is in high spirits at least. "I take it this visit wasn't as bad as you'd thought it be. Yeah, we're done. Here's a report in case your superior asks for it. I have no idea who your superior is these days." First Aid hands him a purely holographic sheet of information that should absorb into Punch's databanks the moment he touches it. Brainstorm earns a lingering look. "We're only worried about ya', see... Imagine a crew that didn't care. Well, maybe you'd like that."


"Not at all." Punch says touching the holo "Quick story before I go. To protect the true identities of certain agents steps were taken. Including memory erasure, the alteration of their past to fit a new legend, spy name for a verifiable backstory, and turning them into a numerical reference of a field equipment inventory. Actually giving them out a number and taking away their name. I used to live in that world. Cold and uncaring and that was from my own side. Having people around who care is a new and interesting situation. I could get used to it." Punch smiles warmly to First Aid as he turns to leave.


"I know what I'm doing" Brainstorm reassures the doubters "I've been doing it for the entirety of the war and I'm still alive, aren't I? It was just a minor incident. Nothing to worry about" he tests his shoulder one more time, listening to Punch's spiel as he does so. The shoulder lowers just a bit slower than it rose, and the hand holding his mysterious briefcase tightens its grip ever so slightly. Nothing more "I should get going too. I need to clean up and figure out what caused it to blow" giving First Aid and Slugfest a wave, he moves after Punch "Thanks again!"

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