Professional Doctor, Professional Liar

The Institute at Nova Cronum is always busy, but this particular cycle there seems to be quite an -extra- amount of bustling going on. Projects are still being monitored, but it also seems they're being packed away? Yep, drones are moving about, folding equipment into boxes and other compartments. Outside, a large transport convoy waits in the loading area as crate upon crate is piled up inside.

Pharma is busy packing his own personal office belongings at the moment, and making sure any hardware that is getting left behind is 100% wiped.

Buzzkill has been sitting in the tiny chamber with Shrapnel for... gosh, how long has it been? She has no idea, there's no real sense of time in there. Ocassionally she and Shrapnel will be awake at the same time and they'll talk, but other than that it's just a never-ending test of her limits. The outlier she was pushed to kill has been mostly eaten already; only scraps and miscellaneous pieces scattered about the floor. She's taken to chewing on her own arm for the time being though she doesn't seem to realize she's even doing it. A result of hunger or a symptom of her imprisonment? The Insecticon is unaware of what's going on around her, though she can pick up the faint footsteps of activity coming from other rooms.

Nautica has been keeping a close eye on the Institute records, trying to take in as much as she can while she has access. So when things start to vanish -- and when the convoy assembles outside -- she definitely has noticed. She checks briefly on the display showing Shrapnel and Buzzkill, making a mental note to bring down more energon to them soon. The more immediate concern, however, is to see why everything is suddenly vanishing.

She makes her way up to the upper floors, her path actually taking her towards Pharma's office willingly, for the first time since she was 'promoted'. She pauses at the door, then knocks twice.

Buzzkill and Shrapnel are soon transported back to their original enclosures, and the cages are placed inside of massive zolanium steel crates that are hoisted up onto lifts to be carried to the transports.

Yes, everything seems to be vanishing, not only specimens, projects, and equipment, but also records from the mainframe. It would appear that they are moving--and not intending on leaving a single trace of themselves behind.

The door to Pharma's office slides open on the second knock, and he nearly runs into her as he is leaving the room himself. "Oh, Nautica." he smirks. "What is it?"

"It seems like everything's in a bit of turmoil today," Nautica observes, a touch dryly. "I thought, in the interests of not having my brain fried for disobedience, I should check whether there was something I was supposed to be doing here."

And just like that, Buzzkill's bizarre torment has ended, only for her to be crated off to places unknown. This abrupt change snaps her out of her arm chewing trance and she struggles onto her feet, balance slightly wobbly with all the movement going on around her. Are they taking her somewhere? Where are they taking her? What's going on? The others from her small tribe are somewhere out there, waiting for her after her sudden disappearance, she can't leave them behind!

Buzzkill snaps, erupting into a violent rage inside her cell. "LET ME OUT!" she shouts, throwing herself into the sides of her enclosure with all of her weight repeatedly in a futile attempt to bust out. "WHERE IS THE JET DOCTOR? WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME?"

Pharma grins. "Oh, well as you can see, we're moving. So you can certainly pack up your own things as well as help gather up the rest of the equipment and anything else that might still be lying around."

And then there's a commotion as Buzzkill's attempts to get out of her cell causes the crate to topple onto the floor sideways. Some of the techs sigh and start to lift it back up again. "Pfft," Pharma shakes his head and moves over to the mess, peering into Buzzkill's crate. "Don't worry, it's just a simple move. Different location, but the same old procedures."

"Most of my things were in the workspace in the lower lab, and are already packed away," Nautica points out; she doesn't have a great deal /at/ the Institute, besides the data from her research, and her ever-present multi-purpose quantum wrench which never leaves her side. She seems about to say more, but then the toppling cage draws her attention and she hurries over to check on Buzzkill. The insecticons are, after all, at least nominally her responsibility to take care of.

The fall slams Buzzkill into the side of her crate, busting her face up something awful and causing flecks of energon to fly from her lips as she continues to scream and shout and just make as big a scene as she possibly can. It only gets worse when Pharma is actually in her line of sight, the Insecticon suddenly unable to see anything except the sick doctor's smug face. She lunges for him, slamming into the side of the crate again, slamming her fists over and over again, wanting nothing more that to punch right out of her prison and smash Pharma's face into tiny pieces.

"I WILL KILL YOU! I WILL KILL YOU AND HANG YOUR BODY FROM THE TALLEST BUILDING SO EVERYONE CAN SEE HOW HORRIBLY I KILLED YOU!" She almost instictively transforms into her buzzing wasp mode, continuing her assault on the side of her crate this time with mutiple limbs to flail around in a fury.

"You're hurting no one but yourself." Pharma tsks at her, shaking his head. Should he knock her into stasis lock, end her misery for now? Nah. It will make for some interesting footage later, no doubt. He turns back to Nautica. "Well then, if you've gathered most of your things, then you can assist wherever you see a need. And make sure everything is spotless--wouldn't want to leave any -marks- behind for -others- to find, now would we?"

"Oh, no, I'm sure that would be absolutely /wretched/," Nautica points out to Pharma, her tone not particularly sincere. "I'd ask you where we were being moved to, but I rather suspect you wouldn't give me an answer yet beyond 'you'll see it when you see it', would you?"

Then the insecticon's struggles draw her attention back to poor Buzzkill. +That cage is almost unbreakable; you're only going to get yourself hurt,+ Nautica points in wavespeech; she takes a firm tone, speaking equal to equal. +And if you damage yourself, you won't be as strong as you could be when you have a chance to get your hands on the jet-doctor. I'm going to make certain we all still stay together, wherever they're taking us.+

Pharma shrugs. "Actually, I would just tell you that I'm not sure yet. So we'll both find out when we get there, won't we?" he chuckles, and turns to start helping disassemble another conveyor belt. He smirks at Buzzkill's screaming. "I think she's the fiestiest one yet. Quite the opposite of Kickback, which is fascinating."

Buzzkill is seriously just losing her crap over here. The inside of her cage is splattered with her own energon as her futile attempts to rend the doctor limb from limb has resulted only in her own body becoming battered and broken. Surely she would keep going she knocked herself out if Nautica didn't intervene and talk her down. Insecticon takes her unlikely ally's words into considersation and she ceases her self destructive rampage, transforming back into her robot mode and slumping down in a corner. She thought she had experienced all the pain the world had to give her when she lost her hive, but it seems the world's cruelty is neverending.

"Why is that fascinating? They're as sentient as we are once they've come of age and become self-aware. And there's quite the range of personalities among us, so why shouldn't there be a similar range of personalities among the insecticons?" Nautica points out to Pharma, even as she kneels to examine Buzzkill. Trying to assess the damage, to figure out how badly Buzzkill has hurt herself.

"Well you have to realize that we only -just- discovered that a few stellar cycles ago." Pharma replies. "We're still getting used to it." He pulls a few power cells and fits them into slots in a portable storage compartment. "Kickback was the most interesting, however. He was so -cooperative-."

"That's because he is a slave," Buzzkill growls, pressing up against the side of her crate. She glares at Pharma through her cracked visor, wiping the energon from her busted mouth with the back of a dented hand. "He was taken away from his hive, he doesn't know any better!" She spits at the doctor through her cage. "But he will. They all will."

"What do you mean /was/?" There's plenty Nautica could say about Kickback, but the Camien femme clearly focuses on a different part of Pharma's remark than Buzzkill; her attention snaps from the other femme to the remaining cages, checking to make certain all four insecticons /are/ present and account for. It's likely Pharma just meant 'he stopped being as interesting, now that we have more specimens', but she'll take nothing for granted around here.

"When they first brought him here." Pharma explains, continuing to work on disassembling the conveyor. He starts to pull off the belt treads and roll them up. "He came willingly, didn't struggle one bit. Even let me take him apart, without so much as a single protest. All because I promised him he'd get to see his 'queen' again." he chuckles, but looks interested in what Buzzkill is saying now. "Oh, they will, hm? And I suppose -you- will make them see?"

Buzzkill continues to glare at Pharma, her optics never leaving his face. If looks could kill, he would've been dead already. "You think we're all stupid, merely savage animals that you can take advantage of for whatever purpose you see fit. You and your people are wrong. Kickback is merely brainwashed by his surroundings, he doesn't know what it is to be a true Insecticon, but I will teach him." She begins to smile, faint at first but quickly curling into a toothy grin. "He will see you and his 'queen' for what you really are, enemies to his people, obstacles to be cut down by any way necessary. He will learn to kill, he will learn to love the taste of hollow energon. The sound of Cybertron will be a million hollow voices screaming in agony as the Insecticon race rends them to pieces!" She is so close to losing it again, she is practically shaking. "And you, jet doctor, will experience the worst of it for everything you have subjected us to!"

"Kickback came willingly because he was told that it was to keep those he cared about safe! I would suspect many insecticons would do the same, if they believed it was the only way to protect their hive; there's a cultural expectation of loyalty," Nautica points out, firmly. "And if his hive was unusual, he wasn't any less loyal. Nor was his queen any less loyal to /him/." But then she clams up, perhaps realizing that she's tipped her hand a bit more than she wished to the fact that she knew Kickback before either was in the Institute. Instead, she turns her attention back to Buzzkill's injuries. "Primus, what a mess. At least let me tend to these energon leaks, before you move her?"

"So," Pharma momentarily looks away from his work to peer at Nautica. "You knew of this? Who told you he was told it would keep them safe?" The doctor asks, his interest piqued at this.

tHe shrugs at her request. "You want to go in there with her after what you just saw and after how you just heard her talking, be my guest." Meaning the grandiose statements about a million hollows screaming.

"So," Pharma momentarily looks away from his work to peer at Nautica. "You knew of this? Who told you he was told it would keep them safe?" The doctor asks, his interest piqued at this.

He shrugs at her request. "You want to go in there with her after what you just saw and after how you just heard her talking, be my guest." Meaning the grandiose statements about a million hollows screaming.

Buzzkill can be a little over dramatic when it comes to subjects close to her spark. She's just very passionate about her people, okay? "It's not just Kickback who will learn, Shrapnel will as well, and any of my brothers and sisters you kidnap and torture. I will teach them all to fight back against their oppressors, against you, jet doctor!"

"Does it matter?" Nautica retorts to Pharma. "Yes, I met Kickback before. He fascinated me; a member of a sentient race we didn't /have/ on Caminus? He inspired me to try to study them more." Which explains, no doubt, why she had some knowledge of insecticons even when Pharma first met her. But she doesn't say anything more, moving to gather up a small triage kit from among the supplies being packed up. She then turns back to Buzzkill's cage.

"I see." Pharma nods, and actually looks amused at Buzzkill's assertions. "Spoken like a true patriot." He comments, pointing toward the Insecticon. "You could stand to learn a thing or two, from her." The doctor says toward Nautica, then turns back toward Buzzkill. "You see I've been trying to do what you're trying to do: To help her learn what it means to protect her own kind, and help ensure its continued survival. She doesn't seem to get it yet, though."

"There is no room in the world for monsters like you," Buzzkill says to Pharma, her voice dripping with malice. She's pretty much said everything she's wanted to say at this point and she's finally starting to register the pain and exhaustion her body has been feeling since she started banging herself against the inside of her crate. Her gaze finally leaves the doctor and settles onto Nautica. +I have suffered worse injuries in my time, I'll be okay but if you really want to assist, I will not harm you.+

"And I don't think that 'us or them' is the only choice out there," Nautica snaps back to Pharma. "There will be conflicts, I'm not stupid. But we have conflicts among ourselves, too; that doesn't mean we have to all kill each other off, now does it? Scientific theory alone says experimentation with other methods could yield better results." And then, as if to make the point, she kneels to at least minister to Buzzkill enough to stop the energon leaks. Further repairs can wait until they're at the new location.

"Psh, just listen to her talk." Pharma shakes his head. "So idealistic." But he doesn't argue any further, they've already had this conversation. He checks his chronometer briefly. "Oh, looks like it's almost time for the first transport to move out. I'd best go see it off, make sure everything running smoothly. Oh, and we'll be having some visitors any moment now; they'll be...making sure everything is -clean- once we leave."

With that, he makes way off to the loading dock where the transports are.

"Psh, just listen to her talk." Pharma shakes his head. "So idealistic." But he doesn't argue any further, they've already had this conversation. He checks his chronometer briefly. "Oh, look like it's almost time for the first transport to move out. I'd best go see it off, make sure everything running smoothly. Oh, and we'll be having some visitors any moment now; they'll be...making sure everything is -clean- once we leave."

With that, he makes way off to the loading dock where the transports are.

Nautica finishes tending to Buzzkill, and then makes her way over towards the other crates as curiosity gets the better of her. Just taking an idle inventory of what else is around. What other things are being moved that she hasn't yet seen, any other cages that might have fellow outliers held captive, that sort of thing. Drifting about as she waits to see who these 'visitors' are.

Ith, there are other outliers, all right. They're being herded into the back of another transport, looking about as haggard and depressed as she'd expect. They just look...defeated as they are shoved into a cramped space like pieces of property. Even if Nautica as a bug in her head, she'd probably consider herself better off than they are.

And as for the visitors, it's not long before a squadron of enforcers arrives. They certainly don't look like a 'cleaning crew'. More like a 'fighting' crew.

Oh, there are other outliers, all right. They're being herded into the back of another transport, looking about as haggard and depressed as she'd expect. They just look...defeated as they are shoved into a cramped space like pieces of property. Even if Nautica as a bug in her head, she'd probably consider herself better off than they are.

And as for the visitors, it's not long before a squadron of enforcers arrives. They certainly don't look like a 'cleaning crew'. More like a 'fighting' crew.

The look Nautica gives the captive outliers is one of sympathy... but yes, she definitely counts her blessings. She may be effectively a prisoner, and under constant threat of her brain being cooked if she steps out of line, but she has the illusion of freedom so long as she remains useful. She knows that were her outlier talent slightly less useful to Pharma, she would be in one of those cages herself... or perhaps one of the removed brain-modules being studied.

Whatever she might have said to them, though, is forgotten as she takes in the 'cleaning crew', optics dimming. That looks very much like something bad is prepared to go down... and she has her suspicions what that might be. "Oh, that can NOT not good..."

The unit starts fanning out and taking positions around the lab, and begin setting up some equipment to replace the lab equipment. Like turrets, surveillance, and other defensive measures. Nothing -too- extensive, though. Most of it is being hidden away behind panels in the walls. A large rectangular crate is carried in and set down, the top unfolding as the enforcers reach in and start pulling out...

...uh oh, are those bombs?

Sidle sidle. Nautica, wrench in hand, moves to examine another crate slightly nearer to the 'cleanup' crew, gaze sliding sideways to see if she can't get a better look at those bomb-things.

Yep, they're definitely explosive charges. And by the looks of it, enough of them to turn this entire structure and everything in it into fiery debris. They're planting the charges are various strategic locations, now. Places that are guaranteed to destroy supports and send them crashing down on whoever happened to be in here when they went off, caving corridors in and trapping the unfortunate victims inside the blazing inferno-to-be.

The unit commander is directing one of his soldiers, handing him a larger packet of the charges. "Get these down to the central power relays. We're not taking any chances if this goes south."

Nautica makes her way back around the crates, searching for her own box of items -- notably that field generator project she's been working on -- from the lower lab. Don't mind her, elite military unit setting an ambush; she's just one of the researchers here looking for a project that was mistakenly packed which she needs. She's probably not the only one milling about, after all.

The coast is clear for Nautica, for the time being. Pharma also doesn't seem to bother her, though of course she is taking a risk. She isn't dead yet, though.

Once she has her box, Nautica offers a polite nod to the military personnel who are setting up the alarmingly explosive ambush and sets off out of the area. It's perhaps a sign of just how much her time at the Institute has changed her that she manages to do this without looking particularly worried; the Nautica who first fell into this situation would have been visibly fretting. But she's always been a quick learner; that is, after all, why she's in this fix.

Itnce outside, she settles down and sorts through the box to find her little field generator. This is a risk, she knows; it's never had a proper trial run to ensure it will block that implant Pharma put in her, and chances are he'll be alerted. But there's an awful lot of complex military equipment, and it's hardly impossible for there to be /something/ which might legitimately interfere -- albeit only briefly -- with a wireless signal. All she needs to do is find /something/ feasible and stand near it, to ensure she has an excuse for why the implant might briefly cut out...

Once she has her box, Nautica offers a polite nod to the military personnel who are setting up the alarmingly explosive ambush and sets off out of the area. It's perhaps a sign of just how much her time at the Institute has changed her that she manages to do this without looking particularly worried; the Nautica who first fell into this situation would have been visibly fretting. But she's always been a quick learner; that is, after all, why she's in this fix.

Once outside, she settles down and sorts through the box to find her little field generator. This is a risk, she knows; it's never had a proper trial run to ensure it will block that implant Pharma put in her, and chances are he'll be alerted. But there's an awful lot of complex military equipment, and it's hardly impossible for there to be /something/ which might legitimately interfere -- albeit only briefly -- with a wireless signal. All she needs to do is find /something/ feasible and stand near it, to ensure she has an excuse for why the implant might briefly cut out...

Well they're setting up some sensor arrays near the doors, likely for the purpose of detecting any incoming hostiles from a short distance off--it would give them ample warning to prepare for action. Maybe that's going to be her best bet...

But then again, maybe that's pointless. Pharma is certainly intelligent--there's a reason he's one of the best doctors on the planet. There's definitely a chance he'll immediately figure out that the glitch was no accident. He certainly knows Nautica's no maintenance drone. She's certainly capable of finding a way past it.

Nautica knows Pharma knows she knows... it's an endless circle. But then again, the alternatives are worse. If her friends show up expecting to free the prisoners, and walk into an empty Institute and what she can only assume is a ambush, that's far worse. In the end, Nautica is an engineer and the situation comes down to simple math: one femme at risk, versus many wiped out.

Making her way over to the sensor array, she stops and puts down the box for a moment as if looking through to make certain something was indeed packed. It's a common enough problem on moving day. The fact that she sets off the field generator for a brief moment is easily concealed from the inevitable surveillance cameras. It's only a brief moment, barely a blip... but long enough to send a short burst message on the private frequency shared by the trio of Camien amica endurae.

<< Institute aware of operation, don't know how; experiments and subjects being moved /now/, facility will be an ambush. Warriors and bombs. Window closes, don't reply. >>

The Camien outlier can only hope that's enough.

The message is sent, and receipt by the remote peer is confirmed. Mission accomplished, but is she out of the woods yet?

Far from it.

Not more than a breem passes before Pharma comes looking for her. Oh, he's definitely noticed the glitch, and he definitely suspects it -wasn't- an accident. Not here, not now, and especially not with someone as smart as Nautica. Coming up behind her, he grabs her arm and pulls her behind a stack of crates. "You," he hisses. "What did you do."

"What do you mean?" Nautica replies, all apparent confusion, as she glances down at the box containing the contents of her workstation. Two datapads, a collection of half-built components that mimic certain portions of the insecticon digestive system, the field generator she's been building... nothing there Pharma hasn't seen dozens of times in the lab. "I just took my things. I needed to sort through them to make certain nothing was missing, and I came over here to do it so I wouldn't be in the way of the large and /well-armed/ mechs in there..." She gestures back into the Institute proper.

The surveillance cameras, at least, would seem to back this story up; she was careful enough about that. And the implant is certainly functioning /now/. Still, definitely a bit convenient.

"Don't play stupid." Pharma glowers at her. "You don't -accidentally- do things like that. You're too smart for that." Then he relaxes a bit. "Now, tell me exactly what you did, right now, and perhaps we can pretend it didn't happen, hm?"

Nautica glances down at her box. "I came over here, then realized I wasn't sure if my box had everything in it. I knelt down to sort through..." She does this as she says it, allowing her head to touch the nearby sensor array momentarily when she crouches. As she does so, her hand in the box triggers the field generator once, just for an instant. A long shot, but if she's lucky, Pharma will think that contact with the sensor array disrupted the module just for that instant.

Admittedly, past experience thus far with the Institute does not suggest luck is running with her reliably.

Pharma watches her and smirks slightly. Oh, he noticed all right. But they're both far too smart for that, aren't they? "That was a clever little play, I'll give you that. But," He folds his arms. "You and I both know you're too smart for that to have been a mere -accident-. So tell me what you -really- did, before I start having to find ways to -convince- you."

This isn't going to work out for Nautica, but she'll give it one last attempt. So she straightens, closing the box once again and putting it aside. "I thought your implant kept track of /everything/ I did. If I /had/ done something -- and you haven't even explained /what/ -- wouldn't you already know? How could I have done anything?"

"You overestimate me, and I do appreciate the compliment. But not -everything-." Pharma grabs her arm again and starts to drag her off toward the transport where all the other Outliers are. "Very well then, I guess I have some -convincing- to do."

Perhaps Nautica thinks Pharma is bluffing, as she follows along -- for the moment.

Oh, he's not bluffing. Does he ever even bluff at all? Regardless, he isn't -this- time. Pharma pulls her into the back of the transport, and they find themselves standing among the other chained and beaten test subjects. If they aren't outliers they're dissidents or outlaws. Outlaws as in anyone who has ever been caught breaking or having broken one of the Senate's many rules.

The doors shut behind them. "Hmm..." his optics scan the group. "Let's see, I need a volunteer, who wants to volunteer? Ah, how about you!" he grins and picks up a smaller bot, perhaps the size of Rewind--in fact he probably has the same altmode as Rewind. Disposable class, no doubt. Pinning the poor bot against the wall, he picks up a large laser cutter and powers it on.

Confused as to why this is happening, the victim trembles, terrified. "Wh....what happened...whh-why..." he can barely speak.

The winged doctor holds up the cutter. "See this? I'm going to start down here," he says, holding it near the mech's left foot. "...and I'm going to work my way up, very slowly," Sparks fly and fuel spurts as he starts to push it up through the bot's heel....the victim screams. The others hide their faces, unable to watch. "until you start talking, and you start telling me -exactly- what you did."

Bombshell has disconnected.

"This..." Nautica stares, clearly horrified. She thought that he would harm /her/, and that it was a bluff; if she's really so useful to him, he wouldn't destroy her. Perhaps it was a test on her part, whether she really was useful enough to push her luck. She should have known better. It isn't as if the poor bots weren't going to be tortured /anyway/, of course, but they weren't going to be so on /her/ account. "Primus, just... stop! STOP! You're supposed to be a /healer/. A doctor!"

"Oh, but a doctor is so much -more- than just a -healer-, don't you think? Wouldn't be fair to confine us to just that! I mean that would be so -boring-!" Pharma laughs. Is he -enjoying- this? "Nonetheless, I'll stop, of course--if you talk. Tell me what you did, Nautica. You interrupted the datastream, you know you did, and you did it for a -reason-. You were trying to do something you didn't want me to see. I've been watching you subtly install extras here and there into your assigned projects. You've been planning this all along, haven't you? I may not be an engineer, but I'm no idiot, either. So tell me now, or I'll keep going!" The cutter is pushed a bit further up, moving past the ankle area and toward the knee. The doctor's victim screams in pain again, though he turns toward Nautica slightly. "...d-don't...give...i-into h-him..." he says shakily. "...d-doomed any...anyway..."

And something seems to /snap/ in Nautica; if Pharma has been trying to destroy her naivety, her innocence, perhaps he's finally succeeded. "He's right, isn't he?" the Camien answers, her tone grim. "He's doomed. If I told you something just to get you to stop, it will buy him at most... what, a decacycle, if he's lucky? Before you..." She gestures around, her movements sharp and angry. "...cut him apart, if he's another outlier who just doesn't happen to be /useful/ except as a study. Or dismantle him for pieces, for some experiment. Or feed him to the insecticons when he's no longer useful. I want to save him, Primus knows, but if I /was/ doing something... all telling you would do is compromise /that/, too." " She folds her arms angrily in front of her, glaring at the doctor. "And isn't that what you've been trying to force me to accept? Cold, unfeeling /pragmatism/?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps I'll even let him go if you cooperate, hm? There's a possibility I will." Is all Pharma says in response to that, as he drives the blade even further upward. It keeps getting worse. More fuel is squirting all over the floor. The doctor need not say it, but getting him to stop this right now -would- buy the poor mech at least a chance at not dying a terribly painful death and maybe, just maybe, getting out of here in one piece. She knows her friends have plans, doesn't she? So the question is, is it worth it?

One sacrifice. One mech's life, versus shutting it all down. She can save him -- maybe -- but she's seen too much of Pharma to believe that it'll last. But while she was willing to make that choice on her /own/ behalf, it's difficult to make it on someone else's. And while she's growing colder and more pragmatic, more ruthless, than she's allowed Pharma to see in trying to achieve her goals of bringing the place down... she's not quite that far gone yet, despite her time at the Institute. She glances at the poor damaged mech, and the gleam of her optics dims. "Stop! Just... stop. Please. I... yes, all right, I interrupted the signal! I wanted to test if I could, to see if I had an option to switch it off. But it only worked for a moment, and you noticed."

Pharma momentarily stops the cutting, relaxing his grip on the blade for a moment. "I see that you did. But what did you do while it was inactive? What did you do while you knew I wouldn't see you? Surely you had -something- planned, should it have worked the way you'd hoped?"

"I did have a plan, but I didn't have quite long enough to enact it; the disruption didn't last as long as I had expected," Nautica says, her tone bitter. Still, she kneels to examine the poor mech Pharma has been tormenting. Is there anything she can do to alleviate the pain? "I was going to send an encrypted message to my kinsfolk -- the rest of the Camien delegation -- to tell them what was happening to me. But the encryption took too long to establish, we didn't even have a completed key exchange; the moment I saw it fade, I dropped the connection before the module came back online."

Unfortunately, there isn't much Nautica can do for the poor mech at this point, except keep talking, so that Pharma won't cut him to pieces. Well, at least not right now. The doctor doesn't cut deeper yet, maybe she is getting somewhere. "And what was that message to say?" he prods further.

"That this place is /not/ what I had expected," Nautica says, even as she takes the mech's hand. She can at least try to lend him comfort. "That there are other outliers here, being experimented on. Tortured. That..." She trails off. "I was going to ask for help, originally, when I started the plan. But now, I was going to say that everyone else should stay away. Because I don't want any of the other Camiens falling into this place."

Pharma's optics narrow, he suspects she might not be telling the truth. But he already has an idea of what she might have -actually- said. She's certainly no idiot. And given the intel they had just received from Sentinel's office...

"Fine," the doctor pulls the laser out of the mech's leg. "I suppose that's satisfactory."

The Camien outlier looks a bit dejected; a little more of her spirit sapped away by this particular exchange. But Nautica can, at least, try to patch up her injured fellow outlier -- or the dissenter, whatever he was -- and maybe, just maybe, he'll be able to stay alive long enough to get free.

Maybe they can /all/ get free.

Pharma drops the mech to the floor, but doesn't turn the laser cutter off. If Nautica thought that was bad, she has yet to witness the worst of it. Instead of leaving the helpless disposable alone, he ramps up the power on the laser to the highest setting, turns, and -cuts the mech in half- straight from the top of his head all the way down to the place where the leg gash ended, effectively rending him to pieces in a single slash. "Oh, look at that--looks like I lied. You know, just like -you- lied to me! Funny how -that- works, eh?" he says with a devilish laugh. "Well at least he got to have a -quick- death as opposed to a slow and agonizing one, right? Heh!"

And with that he turns and moves through the bulkhead doors toward the front of the transport. "Alright! Let's get a move on, those terrorists know we're leaving--let's not let them beat us to it." He can be heard shouting to the pilots, and the convoy begins to move out of the dry dock.

Nautica remains there a moment longer, kneeling beside the remains of the hapless mech. After a moment, she releases his lifeless hand, eyes narrowed as she glances in the direction Pharma went. She'll remember this... and someday, she'll have vengeance in kind. And the next time he demands something, she'll remember one thing. A truth that's been reinforced once again today.

First rule: the jet-doctor lies.