1174/Late Night Repair

**Goth has posed:**
     Goth, to likely somes surprise, was actually asleep at this time, up in the medical bay, in his normal spot, hanging upside down form the ceiling rafters, optics dark and wings wrapped tightly around him as he snored light, high pitched squeaky snores that would be expected of a bat.

**Darkstar has posed:**
    Well, so much for sleep... Darkstar was back from the impromptu mission against the Autobots at Sherma Bridge, a patch of armor pulled and dropped unceremoniously to the floor making a rather loud rattle and clang. The hit he took wasn't the most devastating to him, but the armor of that particular section did its job well enough to make sure that it would have to be retired. "So close... Whirl was RIGHT there," he says, venting a hiss. It was no secret that Darkstar had been seeking a showdown with the Autobot gyrojet, but being denied a proper fight seemed to have become no less than the norm.

**Goth has posed:**
     So much for sleep indeed, Goth would flinch and his ears would flatten against his helm as he slowly lit his optics to give Darkstar a half-shuttered look of annoyment, of course he had to wake him up for the pettiest of damage.. Of course, he also was annoyed, double of course.

      He'd sigh and unfurl his wings and drop down form the ceiling, flipping over mid air to land on his feet, after transforming into his root-mode. "Hello Darkstar." he'd say with a yawn as he started walking over.

**Darkstar has posed:**
    Darkstar continues over to a medberth and plops down onto it, his shoulders slumped forward as his elbows came to rest atop his thigh armor. "Private..." Darkstar says, his tone suggestive of the annoyance that he was feeling. "Glad you're still awake." Of course Goth hadn't been until now... "I've sustained some minor damage... Got time ta' fix it up?" he'd wonder, optics looking down at the weapons pod of his left forearm where some of his rockets were housed as he twisted his arm to look at the pod above and then below.

**Goth has posed:**
     Goth vented. "I wasn't, but I am now." he'd groan, and moved over to attend to the damage, just wanting to get this done and over with to sleep. "Do I have a choice?" He'd ask with a raised ridge as he works. "Take your mission went well?" sleep induced Sarcasm? Check.

**Darkstar has posed:**
    Darkstar scoffs, "I don't know... DO you?" The spacer's optics flickered briefly, but he shrugged his pauldrons after a moment as Goth went to work on him. "I don't like throwin' my rank around, unless it'll make YOU lot stronger and more combat ready. Here I was thinkin' you were repairin' me for the same reason," he replies finally with a smirk.

    "Mission was slag," the spacer admits, having not really gotten to enjoy himself this time around. "Soon as I got there the blasted 'Bots turned aft and rolled outta there. Only got a couple o' shots in..." Another vented hiss, and he remained quiet until the broken armor was replaced in record time by the Decepticon science officer. "The General is going to debrief us later. He did mention 'failure' though. Dunno what the frag the blasted objective was, but I know what that word means..."

**Goth has posed:**
     Goth rolled his optics. "So no." He'd state flatly, as he finished repairing the damage, and yawned once more, moving to sterilize his hands. "Hmm, well I have no clue as to what it was, Soundwave's requested no technical work for me." He'd shrug, he definitely sounded, and looked tired as he chatted with Darkstar, leaning on the sanitation sink, crossing his arms.

**Darkstar has posed:**
    Darkstar looked over his new armored plate for a moment, his ridges narrowing before he slammed his fist against it twice as hard as he could. "Hm... Good," he says, satisfied with the work that the mechabat has done. "Well, we were outnumbered... Which tells me that whatever the objective was it was something that the Autobots really didn't want to see achieved. Pretty sure one of their higher rankin' mechs was there too..." he trails, referring to Jazz. "Either way we'll likely find out soon enough. I dun' think this is over... Hopefully."

    Rising to his feet, Darkstar canted his head left and then right before rolling his pauldrons to help himself loosen up a bit. He was tense from the fighting, or rather the lack of adequate sating of his appetite for such. "Gonna blow off some steam... I'd invite ya' to the training room, but I might try an' actually take your helm off this time," he offers, vocalizer growling.

**Goth has posed:**
     Goth doesn't say anything as Darkstar abuses his armor, only looking annoyed that the spacer is likely going to break any weldings he had to make, and huffs. "Well, Prime, Sky Lynx, Prowl, Grimlock and Ratchet can easily be ruled out, so it's ether Ultra Magnus, or Jazz." he'd say, spinning his hand as he sorted through the known Autobot command.

      He'd then raise a ridge as Darkstar mentions what he may do, which.. Well, grateful for the warning, still though, a little surprise he gave any at all. "Well, No need to tell me twice." He'd huff. "Just don't break any of the welding on that, don't need it popingo ff when you exit orbit, or transforming." He'd nod.

**Darkstar has posed:**
    Darkstar continued on his way out of the medical bay, his processor clearly on other things like working out the irritation of that tease of a battle. "Be ready for more training soon... I'm gonna need ta' put in extra time, and then get more of your assistance with the new prototypes. Almost finished..." Thanks a great deal to the efforts that Goth has put in, though that part is left unsaid. No, it was quite obvious that the mechabat knew how much the spacer owed to him for his intellectual talents at every stage of the more complex upgrades the spacer has been working on. The doors part, and Darkstar takes his leave.

**Goth has posed:**
     Goth nodded in response, yawning again. "Mmm.. Understood." He'd huff, but then he squints, tilting his helm as he swears he could of thought Darkstar was... No, he must be imagining it, he shakes his helm tiredly. "Almost indeed, hopefully everything will work together." He'd muse, his processes starting to wake up some, curse his nocturnal nature.

      Once the Doors where closed he make his way for his normal resting spot once more, debating returning down to his lab.. No he'll be fine up here, likely not to be woken up again. He'd transform and once more attach himself to his normal roosting spot.