Report Writing Ain't My Forte

7/21/2011
Image:Doac_jpg.JPG
Back to 2011 Logs
Chromia Dually Horizon
Chromia's lying on one of the medical berths hooked up to a coolant drip. The small, clear tube tapers off into her arm, injecting the glowing blue fluid into her system. She's slightly disoriented from the previous day's surgery, but her instincts as a solider allow her to push past the throbbing and turn her head to the sound of Horizon's entry. Her voice, while normally gruff in the first place, sounds slightly dry, as if cracking from a lack of lubricant in the vocalizer tubing.
Horizon pauses, seeing Chromia, having been looking for her. He holds a datapad in his hand and looks her over, then glances over to one of assistant medical staff on duty. Without words, they seem to make a communication, Horizon tilting his head towards Chromia with raised optic ridges, and the assistant glancing at her, and then cautiously nodding his head. Horizon then walks closer to Chromia, wearing a neutral expression. "How are you feeling?"
The corners of Chromia's lips twitch upward in the shadow of an amused smile. "I'll be up and about in a few kliks--jus' give me time ta' get my bearings. Despite what the doctors say, I'm ready ta' get outta' here. Stayin' in one place too long makes me restless." She gives Horizon a sarcastic thumbs-up. "Energon storage room is all organized, tho'. Sent the coordinates ta' your data pad jus' yesterday."
Horizon just stares down at Chromia as she fires up her speech with enthusiasm. He quirks an optic ridge and responds, "Good. Then you will feel well enough to write your report."
Chromia curses under her breath, her friendly demeanor turning into a glare at her superior officer at the thought of report writing. "'Fraid writin' ain't exactly my forte, Horizon. You really wanna' read through a borin' report on energon volume. Jus' be disappointed that I was right this whole time."
Without batting an optic, Horizon goes on to say, "I meant a report on HOW you ended up in this condition."
Oh, that. "Not much ta' report there. Got in a tussle with a 'Con while lookin' for clues about Venture." Chromia shrugs the way she's obviously shrugging off Horizon's want for a report.
Horizon narrows his optics ever so slightly. "Anything that leaves you in this condition is worth reporting. If you aren't much of a writer, then dictate to someone who is. I want that report filed, Chromia, especially since your patrols were switched to only the perimeter of Iacon. Unless this happened on your precious little free time."
Dually sticks his head cautiously into the med bay, looking around before entering. Seeing no sign of Ratchet, he walks in, offering Chromia (and pointedly not Horizon) a casual wave as he crosses over to the supply cabinets where paint is kept.
Although Horizon hears Dually, who is far from subtle, enter, he does not turn his head towards him. Instead he continues to stare at Chromia with his calm yet firm demeanor. "This isn't a matter of whether or not your effort is appreciated. It is protocol to report on encounters with Decepticons, especially when they result in you needing repairs. And Dually, get out of that supply cabinet."
Dually turns around- and what he was looking for is pretty obvious- there's a giant scrape clear to the armor that goes from mid-chest most of the way to his knees. "Not your paint, 'Riz. I won't mess anything up." He says, folding his arms across the scrape, which does scrap all to hide it.
Chromia crosses her arms over her chest, scowling. "How am I supposed to know who that 'Con was? Not like I keep track of 'em. Can't identify the enemy if I don't know who they are." She shakes her finger warningly at Horizon. "And I'm not goin' out on a research spree just to find out."
Horizon crosses his arms over his chest, ignoring Dually for the time being, although it is unusual to hear the words 'you're slagging awesome' from Dually. He just continues to fix Chromia with a firm stare. "Oh yes you are. Sift through previous reports and see if anything matches. If they don't, give a brief description in your report. But first, could you help Dually and make sure he doesn't waste any of that paint. I have some other knuckle-heads to get after." He makes a few changes to his data pad and then tucks it under his armpit. "I am sure the two of you will get along splendidly." With that he pivots on his heel and saunters out of the room.
Category:LogsCategory:2011 LogsCategory:Dually's LogsCategory:Chromia's LogsCategory:Horizon's Logs