Barracks Inspection

Image:Doac_jpg.JPG
Back to 2010 Logs
Slipstream Megatron Goa Robustus
Slipstream is on her recharge berth, sitting quietly as she reads over a data pad in her hand. Her energon ration for the day sits on her knee.
Megatron enters the Barracks. For some reason, the Emperor has sure spent a lot of time away from the Throne Room as of late. Megatron's red optics appear.. inspecting. Inspecting the common areas and individual living conditions. Seeing only one of his troops here, he strolls over, checking over the level as he goes.
Slipstream's berth is neat and tidy, as is the area immediately around it. Her form perfectly clean and tidy as well. She taps on the data pads, hmming softly to herself. Though the sound of footsteps draws up her gaze to meet the Emperor's. She scrambles to stand at attention, "My Lord."
"Slipstream. Render the proper honors." Megatron seems in an irritable mood. "And prepare for inspection." Megatron has checked some of the Barracks already, and is coming to check on the welfare of his troops. Apparently, he doesn't like what he sees in the Barracks, it appears as if it hasn’t been properly cleaned for a little while. Not too long, though."
Slipstream salutes, standing firmly at attention, "Power to the Decepticons." she offers proudly, then steps out of the way for him to inspect her area, "I hope you find it all in order, my Lord. I always maintain my area."
Megatron walks into Slipstream's berth, as it is his place to do so. Megatron looks around, and touches several places with his finger that are common for dust, dirt, and oil to coalesce. While looking around, Megatron inquires" Do you have any problems with your berth? "
Goa skates by, a little more cheery than he ought to be. He'd come up to find Slipstream. But he does a double take. That was not Slipstream standing where Slipstream should be. His confused look is mostly eclipsed by Megatron's silhouette as he tries to peek around him. <What's going on?> The roller frowns, but doesn't make a peep.
Slipstream replies, "No problems at all my Lord." she assures, then offers a little smile to Goa, <Inspection. Be good.> Her area is clean, well maintained, there seems to be no oil or dirt, perhaps just a hint of dust where the berth meets the wall. But that's about it.
Megatron has dutifully checked even there, rubbing his fingers together as he finds the dust. Megatron moves to check the various diagnostic connections and hookups in Slipstream's berth, inspecting for cracks, cable frays, and cleanliness. "Good. Everything is in working order? Are there any open work orders?"
Slipstream continues to hold her at tension posture, replying respectfully. "It's in working order, my Lord. Negative to the open work orders." the connections and such are all clean, showing no signs of wear or need for replacement.
Goa vocalizes a chuckle as he walks ahead to his own, neglected berth. May as well take advantage of the forewarning -- he puts what possessions he has in order. Mostly just data chips from the research he's done with Firestorm, among other things.
Megatron replaces the cables and connections and such, and steps foot out of Slipstream's berth. "You should instruct some of your comrades on how to keep their area." Megatron places special emphasis on the word their.
Slipstream inclines her head, "I can arrange that my Lord." she assures, chin raising up a little. "Is there anything else, my Lord?"
Megatron steps a few paces away from Slipstream, and sizes her up. "Yes. Turn around, slowly." Megatron asks, inspecting how Slipstream keeps herself, and seeing if she is in need of repair.
Slipstream cocks her head just slightly to the request, "Of course, my Lord." she replies, turning around slowly but gracefully in place. She just got a wash and wax in so her black armor gleams. Her form has no signs of damage upon it.
Goa looks over his work and at Megatron skeptically, optics half-lidded, as he frees up some data pads that weren't being used for anything.
Megatron seems pleased at Slipstream's area and well-being. "That will be all, Slipstream. There was a minor amount of dirt where your berth met the wall, but you keep clean, which is more then I can say for your comrades." Megatron glares, looking out to the common area, which is obviously filthy by far, compared to what he looked at in Slipstream's area.
Slipstream draws herself up proudly, "Thank you, my Lord." she salutes, "Power to the Decepticons." is offered. <Better be ready over there Gooey.>
Goa instantly snaps his gaze back down at the screen when Megatron starts throwing his glare around. <You twirl around like that for anybody?>
Slipstream smiles a little to that question, > 
Megatron returns Slipstream's salute, "Power to the Decepticons." Megatron moves on from Slipstream's area, arriving at the next berth over. "GOA!" Megatron bellows, the name ringing out throughout the barracks. "Report and be ready for inspection!" 
Goa freezes up a nanosec, his antennae standing straight up. Once that passes, he casually sets the data pad aside, and salutes. "Reporting." 
His berth isn't filthy, but it's not immaculately clean -- there is dust. He has the decency to clean away the grime. There's a faint, localized scent of ... well, Autobot. Courtesy the tires and oil. 
Slipstream watches on curiously, hoping that she can keep her grounder.. well.. grounded and not shivering in his proverbial proton boots. 
Megatron growls as Goa remains standing in the way, "You just going to STAND there? Or do I have to move you myself?" Megatron seems intent on entering Goa's berth for inspection. He taps his fingers along his side armor impatiently. 
Goa graciously wheels aside and out of the way, bowing. "Would rather you didn't, sir." 
Slipstream eyes Goa, <Don't tempt him to backhand you Gooey.> 
Goa is all smiles. <If he wanted to, he would've.> 
Slipstream watches on quietly, wondering how bad his berth is... <You need to work on your cleanliness, love.> 
Megatron enters Goa's berth. Megatron inspects Goa's area carefully, touching places with his finger that are common trouble areas for cleanliness. "Hmm. It's not meticulously clean, but at least you don't live in filth. Your area could use some cleaning, Goa." Megatron continues, checking the various connections as before. "Do you have any problems with your area? Any work orders?" 
Goa shrugs. "It could use a console." He briefly wonders how he's able to /see/ anything on his black hands. Slip and her cleanliness too, for that matter -- Goa recalls times when he'd gone cycles with some stain or other on his darker armor and didn't notice. He glances down at the locker with his files, then back up at Megatron. "I can start cleaning right away." 
Slipstream shakes her head a bit, <I'll help you clean your area once he's out of here.> she offers to Goa via the link. <Surprised you got rid of the scuffs on the wall.> 
Megatron steps out of the berth, and stands several paces in front of Goa. Megatron sizes Goa up, examining him from head to toe. "Now turn around slowly." Megatron performs inspection on Goa, checking to see if he needs repairs. 
Goa's optic ridges flinch at something invisible, but he doesn't break from watching Megatron. <Less questions. Better appearance.> Goa isn't unconcerned with appearances -- it's how others perceive his place in order, after all. His ideal of cleanliness is just ... different, the same amount of effort put in for a different impression. <More time in your berth is less at work.> 
Goa turns about cautiously on one heel, pausing every ninety degrees. He's in combat-ready shape, but his roof plate is scratched all to the pit, paint scored to a more gunmetal color than the green it's supposed to be. The left side of his face has a couple of stiff plates on it, where it's been gouged and not repaired since. And a particularly attentive eye might notice a few repeated weld marks on the thigh his weight isn't on. 
Slipstream notes, <Maybe I'll personally see to it you get washed as well.> a little mental giggle after that declaration. <Maybe you should tell him you just came from patrols.> she suggests. 
Goa's antennae flinch in much the same way. He probably just looks twitchy to start with. <I came from Psykeout. Same thing.> 
"WHY in the pit are you in such a state of disrepair?!" Megatron shouts loudly. He seems upset by Goa's apparent lack of neglect to report to the Repair bay. 
Slipstream mentally notes, <Oh you are in trouble.> a little shake of her head, <He is not happy.> 
Goa clasps his hands behind his back, otherwise unwavering before Megatron's yelling. "Shred has been recharging, or occupied with the parasites. Or herself." He subtly motions at his back plate, "And I've got no intent to waste Decepticon resources on cosmetics." 
Megatron says, "COSMETICS?!" Megatron seems even more angry that you called your welds cosmetic. "You call those hasty battlefield welds and unnatural weight distribution cosmetic?" Megatron continues." 
Slipstream reprimands lightly, <You are so going to get yourself looked after from now on. Even if I have to drag you unconscious over to Shred or Torque.> 
Goa slides his heels against each other with a click. "No, sir, I don't." He looks down at the banding on his leg. He'd nearly forgotten it -- it was just basic programming to go easy on that leg now, after it'd been nearly snapped so many times. "Was referring to my back." Slipstream's chiding goes unanswered for a moment. <Pull my own weight.> 
Slipstream offers softly, "My Lord, Shred has not been available when Goa was able to have a free moment to see to his injuries. You can check the duty logs yourself and see that he isn't purposefully avoiding taking care of his condition." <You owe me for that one.> 
"SILENCE!" Megatron roars. "There are more medics then just Shred to care for injuries! I will not hear that excuse!" Megatron proceeds to reprimand Goa heavily for his failure to take proper care of himself. "All Decepticons need to be ready for combat at ALL times! Do you consider yourself combat ready right now?" Megatron asks, his bright red optics glaring as he stares into Goa's optics. 
Slipstream grimaces at the yelling. She sighs mentally, <How quickly he forgets that we don't trust Psykeout.> 
Goa is quickly unlearning his abject fear of the silver mech, it would seem, as his optics never leave their dull off-orange color, even as Megatron enters what looks to him like a frenzy. "Yes, sir." He doesn't like where he's going with this line of inquiry. <... if he knew about the neutral medics ... displeased.> 
Slipstream hmms, <Better he not know. Don't think there's a policy on it. Let's not make him create one and take Torque out of the equation.> 
Megatron says, almost with surprise, "Yes? You do?" Megatron says this next phrase with a low, growling tone: "Let's find out." With this, Megatron strikes quickly with a fist, directly to where he considers Goa would be the weakest structurally. His fist swings straight towards Goa's weld... 
The frame of Goa's leg shatters with a twisting crack of metal under the blow, the limb only held together by armor and errant wires now. The mech crumples backwards, hitting the floor and immediately curling around the injury -- his thoughts are clear for a moment before the pain hits him. <... didn't take a potshot before.> He doesn't shriek, but his dental plates grind on each other hard enough that the squeal is audible. "... point ... made." 
Megatron approaches and GRABS Goa with his cannon arm, and raises him up. "What if that had been a missile!? Or an Autobot! You could be DEAD, or worse right now!" Megatron scolds, as he holds onto Goa with an iron grip. "You WILL go to the Repair bay and take care of yourself. You see for yourself, that if you fail to do so, you are NOT combat ready." Megatron rasps, making his point even more clear. 
Slipstream grimaces, she feels that pain through the link and suddenly favors her leg. <Ow...> she sits down quickly before she's noticed. A gasps as her mate is grabbed so roughly. 
Goa cycles through a few strained hissing and sputtering sounds. It takes a few tries for him to manage a legible "yes sir". His jaw immediately locks back up, his optics all the while cringed to bright red slits. There were some comebacks he might've had for a lesser mech. That he didn't give Autobots the luxury of sizing him up, for example -- but Goa's entire processor is focused on preventing him from cracking and revealing how badly he's hurt. 
Megatron slowly lowers Goa to the berth floor, taking care not to further injure his troop. "Remain still." Megatron orders, as he steps out of Goa's area briefly. A few keypad strokes are heard, followed by a voice from the terminal. Megatron wastes no time with formalities, ordering "Get a transport down to the barracks to get Goa up to the Repair bay. NOW!" The medics acknowledge Megatron's command, and the terminal turns off. He returns to face Goa, waiting for the transport to arrive, it doesn't take long. Surprisingly, Megatron helps Goa up and onto the transport directly to the Repair bay, and follows with it, accompanying Goa to the Repair bay. 
Slipstream shores up her side of the link, buttressing against the pain and retakes her feet. "I can make sure he gets his repairs done so you can continue your inspections, my Lord." is offered respectfully. 
Megatron says, "It is my responsibility to ensure the safety and well-being of all my troops, Slipstream." Megatron returns to her offer, indicating that he personally would escort Goa to the repair bay. His concern for Goa is quite valid, regardless of his previous act." 
Goa's ability to figure out what's going on through the haze is quite limited -- the mech's optics seem to roll in his helmet. But nobody was hitting him. And Megatron was ... moving him? Oh. Repairs. Right. 
--- 
Some time later… 
Megatron walks into the repair bay, his tall silver form walking with a sense of purpose. Beside him, a shorter, unfamiliar Mech is being escorted by not only Megatron, but by Polyhex security. The unfamiliar mech is clad in gunmetal grey armor, and the unlikely pair appear to be having a conversation, with Megatron doing the majority of the speaking. "... the injuries sustained are quite extensive. I need my mech ship-shape and combat ready." Megatron approaches the area Goa is in, indicating the patient with a gesture of his hand. 
Robustus didn't to seem to mind the escort, though he is quite aware that he could be harmed if he did anything overtly suspicious. The mech nods to Megatron's words, "I understand." he assures, a deep voice that could be a baritone easily. "Though I am curious why you needed me, surely you have your own medics?" he inquires. Then he looks at Goa and hms, spotting the immediate need of a leg repair. "Looks like you took a good wallop." he notes, moving closer to examine the appendage more closely. "Hmm." he looks thoughtfully as he taps on his right forearm, a panel sliding open and his fingers extracts a tool from within. 
Goa props his chin up on one arm and ... well, tries to look at-attention. "Weeeeell." A questioning look toward Megatron. "Look what the king dragged in." The green mech's prone on his chest, the practically disintegrated nature of his femoral frame quite apparent. The drones did some cleanup work while he was in stasis lock. He grins at the unfamiliar mech as he approaches for a closer look. "Guess I have a reputation." 
"My medics have other responsibilities right now." Megatron rasps, "I need all of my troops in top shape. It is important that I see to Goa's repair as soon as possible," Megatron states honestly as if genuinely concerned for the welfare of his troops. Hearing Goa's snarky remark, Megatron barks, "I did not ask for a quip from the likes of you! You should consider yourself fortunate that I will personally oversee your repairs." 
Robustus gives the leg a very thorough looking over, making a soft little 'tk' sound as he does so. He then moves closer to Goa's head, reaching for the back of his neck and depresses a couple of locations, which takes his pain receptors off. A soft chuckle, like the comment amused him, then he withdraws a few more tools from his arm and sets them near the leg. He doesn't waste any time either, pinching off feed lines, then snipping them so he has better access to the frame itself. "Ah the young, think they know everything." he muses in an amused tone. He removes the damaged frame with a few deft cuts of a laser scalpel. He checks the frame over to see if it’s salvageable at all. 
It isn't. The primary support looks like someone took to bending it back and forth like a straw, over time. "Yes sir." Goa ducks his head a little, well-timed with the medic's motion to disable his sensors-- "Ahh... wondered when somebody would do that." Even as bored as he is, he decides taunting Megatron may not be the wisest use of his time, so he eyes the new mech instead. "Who're you callin' ..." Goa grumbles, drifting off mid-sentence. Maybe better not to earn that reputation yet. He glances back at the silver mech. "New medic, sir?" 
Robustus looks around the med bay, then moves to get some new tubing, wiring, armor plating, even a frame and welding rod. May as well give Goa all new leg, but that takes time for an order to get through, so this is the other option. All that he needs in hand is put on the table by the leg. "Ah I see, well I will have him ready to take on an army soon enough." he assures Megatron. He withdraws a small welder from his arm and lights it, using it to warm the ends of the frame still inside the leg that wasn't damaged. The frame gets placed within, held in place by a couple clamps, then a tinted visor comes down over his optics. "Don't look into the welding light." he states. He proceeds to use the rod and welder together to suture the frame into place. He idly hums some sort of tune as he works, the zaps and sparks of welding flash over his features... scattering to the floor where they extinguish. 
Unknowing to Robustus, Megatron is watching him work with a scrutinizing eye. He keeps only a minor eye for suspicious activity - He's got the security cameras for that. Instead, Megatron is instead evaluating the mech's performance. So far, he seems pleased with Robustus' efficiency. "Excellent," Megatron says, watching as Robustus works on Goa. Finally in response to Goa's question, "You could say that." It appears that is all Megatron is willing to say on the subject. "Do any parts need to be placed on order?" Megatron inquires, as he sees the welding sparks shower onto the floor. 
"Awwww, Megatron, sir. Don't just leave me hangin'." Goa laces his fingers together and stares straight ahead, making a point of looking as innocent as possible. Let his slagging boredom get ahead of him -- but he really does want to know where he drummed this guy up from. He pauses once to look at his he back of his wrist like he expects something to be there. 
Robustus is thorough with his welding, making sure that the frame is as structurally sound as it can possibly be. Having used a liberal amount of the rod, it’s an obvious weld job that will hold up very well. The visor comes back up so he can examine his work. Watching the metal cool down a few moments, then setting the welder down. He takes up the hoses next, warming the ends with the welder just enough then attaching the softened rubber to the line ends in the leg. Holding them there firmly then using some line tape to keep the seal intact. Both ends received this treatment, then he moves on to the next line. "To be honest it would be better he get a whole new upper leg assembly. I'm sure your medics can look up what he requires. What I'm doing is more of a nearly permanent patch job. He'll be able to stand on it, kick with it and such for a good long while and not tweak the frame." he remarks. 
Megatron says, "I will ensure you will get the proper parts put on order, Goa." Megatron says, taking out a data pad, and noting it down for Shred. "Will this treatment be able to withstand combat?" Megatron asks with a serious tone to his voice." 
Goa smirks. Normally he'd take issue with being ignored, but given the circumstances, he just finds it funny. He chooses not to push his luck, though, instead turning the full attention of his sensors to how the new doc is handling this. 
Robustus gets all the lines put in place, the wiring is next, a little welder warmth then attached to the ends in the leg, twisted slightly as well and then wire tape to make sure it stays in place. Goa will probably feel the leg sending feedback again as the wiring reboots the circuitry below the knee. "Yes of course. I'd stake my reputation on it." he replies in all due seriousness. The armor is next, welder brought back into play, visor sliding over his optics as he attaches the armor to the frame, liberally using the rod to make sure it stays in place. 
Megatron nods. "Good." Megatron turns his attention to Goa, "See what a little preventative maintenance and repair can do? It makes you all the more combat ready." Megatron speaks in his raspy voice, hoping to get just a little of what he has to say into Goa's hard head. 
Any doubts about Goa's motor control circuitry should dissipate when he revs the wheel below where Robustus is working. He cranes his neck over his shoulder, straining to see some of the work over the back plate obscuring his view. When Megatron finally gets back to him, his optics tilt toward him in their sockets. "I get it, sir. Don't have to rub it in." With that, he turns away, relaxing his neck with a little creak. 
Robustus gets one piece on, then moves on to the next. Working efficiently, but not too quickly, allowing the metal to cool a bit and looking for any possible gaps in the weld job before continuing. He's humming again, apparently indicatory of enjoyment in his work. "Wise words, preventative maintenance is better to do than glitching in mid-swing and wondering why you face plant to the ground." he notes, "And trust me I've seen a few of those in my time." a little chuckle then. Another piece on, making two, on to piece three. "I trust that you see to your own, Megatron. Leading by example is the best way to show your troops you mean it." 
Megatron says, "Of course I do. The well-being of my troops is one of my primary concerns," Megatron rasps. And knowing Goa would have a retort to such, Megatron continues. "My dedication is as such that I take my own PERSONAL time to ensure repair for Goa." Megatron says that while turning his optics towards Goa, his red optics looking directly into Goa's, as if challenging him, nay, daring him to say something wrong. As if the mere look into Megatron's optics say, "Try me. I DARE you to say something."" 
Goa smiles smugly, stare locked, calm as calm can be. He's been on the receiving end of that look too many times from too many different mechs to not recognize it, and that gives him time to consider his options. Megatron /probably/ wouldn't do anything in front of a neutral. "You continue to flatter me, sir." But he could always find Goa later. And he seemed to be in a bad mood the last cycle. 
Robustus finishes with the third section and starts on the fourth and final. Welding and humming away. Then finally the visor comes up and he examines his work to make sure he got everything just right. "Looks good." he states, snuffing out the welder. He reaches over to depress the back of Goa's neck, which reinitiates his pain receptors. "I'd like to see you walk on it, test it out." he states, taking a step back as he grabs his tools and puts them back into his arm. Robustus states to Megatron's words, "I have no doubt of your concern for your troops, but what about yourself? Have you seen to your own maintenance? I could look you over if you wish." 
Megatron dismisses Robustus' request with a wave of his palm. "No need." Megatron ensures he has Shred perform any maintenance he requires. "I await to see the results of your repairs." Megatron looks on, as Robustus instructs Goa to walk on his newly repaired leg. 
Goa minds being ignored even less as he swings his legs off the table and flips over, rubbing the back of his helmet where Robustus kept prodding, and twitching an inquisitive antenna forward toward the same. "... does that work on everybody?" He dangles his legs a moment, then hops up onto his better one, testing his weight on the new welds cautiously. Satisfied, he pauses to override the changes to his balancing code, then jogs in place. "Alright," Goa sets his hands on his hips and looks at Megatron a moment, "... I trust nobody here wants to be punted ... but far as my systems can tell, it's good as new." The shorter mech turns back to Robustus. "You got a name...?" 
Robustus inclines his head to Megatron. Then watches Goa take his weight on the leg. He smiles a bit to the question, "Actually, no." then looks at the mech's face thoughtfully, "Did you want his face fixed as well Megatron?" he asks, then to Goa he offers a hand, "Robustus." 
Megatron says, "Not necessary." As long as Goa is combat ready, then the repairs are complete." Megatron seems content with the repairs as they are, content not to, as Goa put it, 'waste Decepticon resources on cosmetics'. "Goa, how do those repairs feel?" Megatron asks, checking up on him." 
Goa accepts Robustus' hand firmly, shaking it with more strength than his lanky arms look like they should have. In that way, it's very much a salesman's handshake. "Guess you know my name. Dunno where you wandered through from, but I'm glad you did, Robustus." He turns and shrugs toward Megatron, quickly correcting his typical slouch in the same motion. "Better than my face," he mumbles, "Feels like working, sir. One other test." Goa abruptly falls from view, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of a transformation sequence. The car's engine hums thoughtfully. "Yeah, nothing snags." 
Robustus hms softly to that reply, "All right." Then a little grimace to Goa's grip, he wasn't quite prepared for that. He flexes his hand a bit as the grip is released. "Good to meet you Goa, do try to look to your own needs when it comes to maintenance. Medics are not all seeing and all knowing after all." he states. Then he looks to Megatron, "I suppose I may return to the clinic then?" 
Megatron says, "The security escort will see you out." Megatron says, indicating that Robustus may indeed return to the clinic. He neither thanks, nor chastises the Mech as the work is completed." 
"I try." Goa does. Though his definition of 'looking after his own needs' might be a little skewed. The green Decepticon starts coasting forward, perhaps to see if he can sneak out of the med bay without anyone noticing. 
Robustus turns toward the escorts, "Good cycle." he offers to you two, then is shown out of Polyhex. 
--- 
Slipstream has been busy while Goa has been gone, she made sure his berth area was cleaned quite thoroughly. All his data disks and such stacked neatly. She even made sure the dust that tends to not get cleaned away at the juncture of the wall and berth gets done in his as well as her berth. She got a tad dirty getting this all done of course, but it was worth it. 
Goa's limbs are in sound condition. He could've gone back out on duty ... but he promised he'd get this done, didn't he? So his first stop is the barracks. He pokes his nose in where Slipstream should be -- no jet. Maybe she was out too. Though he knew she wasn't -- was still funny to entertain the idea of not being able to sense her the next berth over. He wheels up behind the femme, and without a word, clambers up onto her shoulders. "Whaddya think you're doing?" 
Slipstream blinks as she feels the familiar pressure of the grounder climbing up on her like she was a tree. She shakes her head, hands raising up to clutch gently at his shins, "Cleaning your berth. Off to the wash racks for us both, I got dirty cleaning and you are a sight." she remarks. <So was Shred upset at you for coming in damaged? Did you tell her Megatron did it?> she sends over the link as she walks toward the racks. 
<No and no.> Goa's thoughts are far more detailed than that -- deliberately taunting in their vagueness on the bond. He's being a beacon of smugness right now. The free ride isn't helping. The mech's tires bounce on and off of Slipstream's armor. "I'm a sight /now/? I haven't even been outside." 
Slipstream hms softly to that reply, stopping in the racks area and tapping on the controls for sonics combined with cleaning agent. "I seem to recall you suggesting you came from Psyke's before the inspection happened." she states. <Now off the back carefully please love.> 
Goa climbs off in precisely the reverse way he clambered on. He's reasonably finessed at it by now, only a couple uncouth slips and scratches. <I gotta try that on Starscream sometime.> "Oh... yeah." He doesn't say anything more, just busily sets to work getting the grime off, starting with the debris on his fresh leg. 
Slipstream peers at you at that thought, then giggles, <He'd null you for it.> she challenges, then finds a couple of sponges. She gives you one, keeping the other for herself. She wets down hers and sets to work on cleaning your back. "Why were you there?" she asks. 
<Be worth it.> Goa's back is the ugliest part of his armor by far. It can't decide what color it wants to be, what with the scratches -- no glossy coating. But there's very little outright dirt on it. He accepts the sponge, but unmoving ... giving you a long look. "Never properly thanked him for saving my spark." Goa's words are completely dry -- his sarcasm doesn't have to be enunciated to be present. He chuckles to himself as he bends over and spins his tires over a sponge, respectively, to clean out their center grooves. <Shred had my crystal. No reason he wouldn't.> 
Slipstream hms to the first thought, shakes her head, <I really can't take you anywhere.> she states, thinking that statement may just become her quote for the rest of her days at this point in her young life. She scrubs away, taking good care to get any grime, dirt that may be in the scrapes and scratches. "Oh he saved your spark? Thought that was me." she says softly. 
Goa kicks up some of the wash chems at you. "Oh! It /was/, wasn't it." He can't repress the sarcasm at this point. <Says he doesn't.> 
Slipstream isn't sure to be momentarily amused or annoyed by the chems being kicked back at her, luckily for you amused wins out. "He doesn't.. what?" she asks, working her way down your back. Peering to see if you are doing similar to your front of if she's going to have to get a bit more assertive and do that too. 
Goa is doing the best he can to his chest and flanks without a new coat of paint and a wax, rolling his shoulders to get to the detailing inside. <Doesn't have my crystal.> He turns aside to look at you, and blinks -- at your speaking aloud. Then again, this time at your general presence. "Megatron brought in a new medic," Goa holds the sponge out in front of himself and wrings, "Not sure what to make of that." 
Slipstream ohs softly, yes.. that crystal. That is curious though. <You checked his area for it and find no sign.. and left without him noticing or did he catch you?> she asks, doing a similar wring and getting more cleanser on her sponge, she works the underside of your cape area now. "New medic? Curious." 
Goa sighs, slouching, crestfallen. <No chance to. Tried. Blathered a while, then tried to strap me to a med table.> He rumbles quietly when you move -- that would appear to be close to his engine block under there. 
Slipstream isn't trying to get too deep in there, just enough that you pass another inspection that she knows will come.. probably sooner than later. <I hate that mech.> she states with utter contempt. "So what was the mech like.. this medic?" she inquires, crouching a bit to get your aft plating then upper thighs. In for a quarter.. in for a pound... 
Goa chortles at your attention to detail, shifting his legs sheepishly. He taps a finger against his chin, "Like Torque if she wasn't Torque." From the way he's shrugging and nudging the link, you can tell he really doesn't know more than that. "I tried my best to annoy him, I swear. But he just did his thing." 
Slipstream peers up at you at a moment, "Like her but not.." she then shakes her head and sighs, "No, not falling for that one." she states, kneeling to get your wheels done since she's back here cleaning away. She hmms thoughtfully, <An unflappable medic. Sure could use one around here. Maybe Megatron was seeing if he could hack it with his most annoying Con.> 
<It's good to be useful.> Goa pre-empts you and gets to work waxing, starting already on his arms. "Hey, I just talk to people. Doesn't mean I'm good at describing them." Just to prove his point, he shows you snippets of what he saw, particularly the part where he introduced himself to 'Robustus'. The parts where he was snarking are conveniently missing. 
Slipstream hmms softly, getting this sort of deviant sort of smile. <Oh.. I like him. Hmm, you know might be good to have a sane medic that can deal with the lot of us. Shred is so..> she sighs mentally, "You are good at talking." she notes, getting your feet and shins while she's knelt down here. She peers up at you a moment, <Do you think Shred is.. lonely?> 
Goa looks down, smirking, one optic ridge raised, "So Megatron gets the spinning, I get the kneeling?" He noticed you'd been down there a while. Air moves over his dental plates to continue talking, but he looks unsure how to handle your sudden smiling, so nothing happens. He gets a decent sheen on his chest plate, and moves to his helmet now. <... never thought about it. Could ask her.> 
Slipstream rises smoothly out of her knelt position and nods, <Please, I'm worried about her.> then a little smile, "Oh you wanted a twirl right?" she asks softly, wings shifting lightly behind her. 
Goa turns around and smiles up at you curiously, ridges furrowed. "Only if you want, Slip." His words actually drag on in a kinda serious way. "Protective mech," He swabs a little spot of dust off your side, staring up into your optics, "not possessive one." <Please? Who's asking?> 
Slipstream smiles softly at you, then slowly twirls, the chem washing over her form as she does, wings switching back and forth ever so slightly. She ends up facting you again as she finishes. "But my mech, either way." she whispers, then takes a seriously long look at you, <Well I think you'll pass inspection now.> 
Goa's smile lightens. Hey, it's not like he was gonna complain -- his optics look to be sappishly sparkling by the time you make a full rotation. He gives himself a look-over, considering your judgment. Polish on the legs didn't really need further work. So he was convinced, anyway. But he sighs when his arms come up in front of himself -- one day, he'd get a new application of chrome on those ... <Shoulda passed it the first time.> "Let's get outta here." A nod back toward the berths. 
Slipstream smiles to that sparkle in your optics, turning to tap the chem and sonics off, then stepping out of the racks with a little flick of her wings. <Yes, you should have, and now you will from now on.> "Of course, time for a good recharge in a clean berth." 
Goa amuses himself thinking of radical measures, like dragging a turbo rat or two up in his cab on his next run to Cubicron, just to prove you wrong -- no, he probably /would/ find a way to mess it up. Goa scoots into his bunk, getting comfortable before he really takes a look around. He runs his thumb against the wall. Takes a look at it. Brushes it against his other fingers. Nothing. He tries this a few more times, alternating hands. Could just be wax on them. Still nothing. So he licks the wall. 
Slipstream watches what you’re doing, giggles and sighs, <Night Gooey.> then moves into her own berth, <My sweet grounder.>
Category:Logs
Category:2010 Logs
Category:Slipstream's Logs
Category:Megatron's Logs
Category:Robustus's Logs
Category:Goa's Logs