Field Repairs

Is there a better place on Cybertron to look for trouble other than Dead End? The scrapyards and the suspicious Cybertronian that lurks here forces you to keep your sensors alert at all time. Wherever trouble and danger can brew, there's an high odd to see Minerva on and about.

With her color scheme changed though, she's out for some thrills and dangerous experiences -- Minerva, disguised as her alter-ego Daredevil, is driving through the wrecked remains a bit too rapidly.

With the Dead End's inhabitants as crippled as they are, rapid travel can become a matter of dodging and weaving on more crowded streets - unless you're willing to run a few unfortunate mechs over. One such road is busy in an odd way, with derelict robots crouched over the ground in a loose line and some of them licking at the pavement. In between the shambling forms, the bright pink glow of spilled energon explains their behavior. Someone has lost quite a lot and at the end of the line, six more bodies are crowded together in an alleyway.

The cautious thing to do is not to stop in a place like that. However, when Daredevil notices the rather weird behaviour of a few Cybertronians, her vehicule quickly turns on the side to come to an halt. She transforms mid-way her breaking, stopping herself by planting her feet on the ground and sliding a few feet. She straightens herself up and blinks, staring at them from afar. The femme had seen enough energon to recognize the pink glow they were desperatedly sucking dry.

She lifts her gaze up, noticing more of them swarmed up deeper into the alleyway. She quickly transforms once more, revving her engines before she turns on her lights in their direction, "Incoming!!" She shouts as she speeds up toward them, using her hyper-ambulance's sirens to drive them off, hopefully... And the fact that she's speeding up in their direction in a rather reckless way. Fortunately, her plan is to break before it's too late but...

The empties turn in Minerva's direction as her siren catches their attention. They scatter at the on-rush of her vehicle form, not wanting to get run over, and disappear down a connected street while some of their tools clatter to the ground behind them.

Laying in a heap where they'd formerly been milling is a large but badly damaged beastformer. Paneling across its whole body have been pried apart and ground almost bare of paint, leaving its coloration a mottled mix of black and purple, and several damaged sections of her interior are exposed. Wires are cuts, circuit boards have been pulled loose, and a pool of energon, oil, and coolant beneath her suggests she's been there for a while. Still visible on her forehead, and one of few pieces of her fully intact, is a Decepticon brand.

Scattered around nearby are makeshift pry bars and saws stained the same colours, used until a moment ago to part the femme with her more valuable components.

The moment they flee, Daredevil transforms into her root mode, lifting her hand up and shaking her fist at them. "Yeah! You better run, don't want to mess with me!" She shouts at them. It wasn't just empty words, the femme seemed brash and daring enough to back those words if it was necessary.

The femme turns her optics in the beastformer's direction, assessing his condition rapidly. Fortunately for the beastformer, it seems she judges her condition to be worthy of her time and attention... Or unfortunately for her, since it generally means she's very badly injuried. "Awww, poor thing..." The femme says as she rushes to her side.

She falls to her knees and, without thinking twice she quicky summons up her medical arc welder. For some reason, even if she was off duty, she never parts from her medical tools even if she despites her job, "Lucky for you I've stumbled on you... Ah," The sparks go flying as she performs quick patch-up in attempts to stop the energon leaking, at least to prevent further damage or any permanent harm, "I might not look like it, but I'm quite good at putting people back on their feet..." Minerva has no idea whether or not the beastformer can hear her, at this point, probably not, but she talks nonethless as her hand careful tinkers with the many exposed wires and circuits.

Digging into the damaged beastformer's physiology it quickly becomes apparent that it... isn't. While undoubtably injured, there's something fundamentally perverse in the routing of her cables, the honeycomb-like structure of her struts, and the odd nodules that interface parts of her frame. It's still Cybertronian architecture but a kind that's diverged from the common mech and femme long ago. If Minerva is familiar with Insecticons however, it may not be completely alien and fortunately, major systems are still mostly recognizable.

The smell of vital fluids almost overpowers the Dead End's rusty odor at this close a proximity and a quiet, injured click assures that her vents haven't stopped entirely. The damage to the femme's frame is inside as well as out, with millimeter-scale teeth marks on cracked circuits alongside the more coarse wounds from the emptys' tools. As the damages are repaired, the small ticking noise and the blue pulse of an almost-exposed spark casing grow slowly stronger. The repairs help, but it might take more time to nurse the beastformer back to consciousness.

The frame and circuits were mostly new to Minerva -- the fact that it was all different than what she was used to didn't stress her though -- it only rouses her curiousity and made her strive to repair her all the more. It was a source of motivation, thankfully for this beast. Minerva needed the challenge to perform, or else she would have had no interest in this particular case.

The strong scent comes to her nostrils and makes her cough a few times. Her sensors notice the various marks of a fight with some other beasts, most likely, but that wasn't her concern right now. She did not have the tools to perform full repairs, but at least enough to prevent her from further energon loss and hopefully, to save her.

The stronger glow of her spark causes Minerva to heave a sigh of relief. There wasn't much more Minerva could do with what she had on her, "Hang in there little fellah," She says as she grabs the broken frame, lifting it up into her arms, "We'll get somewhere better to fix ya up," She says, transforming into a large shuttle and putting the wounded cybertronian inside of her form.

And the shuttle blasts off into the air, kicking off plenty of dust and debris! Speeding up to some medical facility!

<< Commercial break!>>

++ Free Clinic ++

Flat, dull gray inside and made of the same cobbled together materials as

the rest of the area, the Free Clinic is a haven of help for the

downtrodden that live in this area. Staffed by kind-sparked mechs and

femmes who volunteer their free time and materials to help, Empties can

find live-saving medical help here, as well as energon supplies when they

are desperately low. There aren't many circuit slabs here, and everything

from the equipment to the tools are donated, but they all function as

needed. Chairs for waiting rest against the wall near the door, while a

recovery ward in the back sees patients that need time to rest and reboot

from serious medical trauma.

The idling of Overclock's engine rattles loose glassware in the recovery ward as it rises and falls in a choppy rhythm. Not fully repaired but at least functional again, her vitals have returned most of the way to their noisy norm - the unmuffled exhausts of her alt-mode making her that much louder. Eventually, the femme's red optics flicker on and the beastformer jolts awake, gasping as she tries to stand up from her circuit slab only to collapse again as the pain of her remaining injuries halts her. The Insecticon groans and settles for scanning the room with her optics.

The clinic was a little short staffed and when Minerva came in with the injuried robot, she had performed the necessary repairs so she would be functional again. She could have taken her time to perform the rest but once that was done, she had no interest in the 'casual repairs' that would leave her like brand new. It had been quite interesting dealing with this new anatomy, but once the interest faded away, she left the nurses to perform the rest -- which they weren't really sure how to deal with and so, they left Overclock to rest.

While she was there, Minerva offered her help on a few cases around that were worth her time, but considering how badly they needed a medic to deal with patients that felt like they had all the misery of the world weighting on their shoulders, Minerva tried to find an opportunity to leave.

The femme comes back into recovery ward, heaving a soft sigh. "... Talk about a great way to ruin the mood," She mutters to herself mostly. She blinks as she glances up at the beastformer that squirms and moves, "Oh, heh... You're awake..."

Overclock's optics settles on Minerva as the medic addresses her. The blue and magenta frame isn't recognized, but all the crosses make her function easy enough to guess. "You... fixed me?" She asks, her voice tinged with static from a still-damaged vocoder.

'Fixed' is an euphemism considering all the little repairs and esthetics tweaks Overclock still needs. The sort of teddious work Minerva hated. She lifts her hand and scratches the back of her head as that thought crosses her mind, but she replies with feinted enthusiasms, "Of course! Glad you're still functionning, you were in a mess..." She takes a step foward Overclock's bed, finding her more interesting a patient than her other options outside the recovery ward. She takes up a data padd and glances at it rapidly, reading the notes that were written then, "You'll still need a few repairs here and there but... Congratulation, you're still alive!"

"Hurray..." Overclock replies as she lays her head back down, not seeming to share the medic's enthusiasm. Her optics stare blankly at a portion of wall nearby.

Some of the notes mention the weird fluid that has been leaking on her arm : something Minerva didn't notice when she first took care of Overclock's inner damages and circuits repairs. It rouses her curiousity some and she arches a brow, "Huh..." She glances over to Overclock and gives her a shrug, "My, you sound like you might have prefered to be left there to die, ahah.." The femme puts the data pad aside and she lifts one hand to pat Overclock's shoulder. "Don't worry, mechs love the scars," She says in an attempt to cheer her up. "So... Hum... What exactly happened to you anyway?" She asks. Now that was more interesting.

The beastformer snorts and looks back at Minerva when the hand touches her shoulder. Her tail lowers cautiously to place its barbed tip nearby. "Nothing... a hollow would understand," she dismisses.

Minerva blinks and can't help but laugh, "Ah, nothing? Sounds about right -- had I arrived a few moments later, you would have been done for," Minerva gives a shrug of her shoulders, "It looked like to me you fought with some nasty beast..." She hums softly and leans over, almost hopeful, "Some Primordial, perhaps?"

"No," Overclock replies flatly as she tries again to stand with a pained grunt of effort. She manages to set two paws beneath her before letting them slip out from under her and dropping once more onto her side. The beastformer vents loudly to collect herself and lets out an impotent growl.

"A shame," Is Minerva's reply. She shakes her head and takes a step back, staring at Overclock as she tries to stand, not offering her a hand to do so. She frowns and asks, "Can you transform?" Time to see if she did everything correctly.

"In this state?" Overclock barks incredulously.

Minerva frowns and she rests her hands on her waist, "I've seen some mechs transform in worse states," She replis. She waves her hand up dismissingly and adds, "Don't strain yourself, someone will come to finish the job.."

"I travel better... in this mode, anyway," the beastformer replies. Her optics hang on the other femme for a moment, then she adds, "Thank you."

Minerva's lips curl into a smile, "It was my pleasure..." She gives her a shrug and says, "What's your name?"

"Overclock," the beastformer answers. "Yours?"

"Minerva," The femme replies. "Look, Overclock, I've done the important repairs, another medic should come and fix the rest shortly.." She glances at her for a moment and says, "You'll still need some more repair but with some rest you should be able to be out of here in no time,"

"You sound disappointed... that I wasn't put in this condition by a Primordial," Overclock notes. "Have somewhere else to be?"

Minerva blinks at the question, "Oh, really?" She asks, seeming surprised. She waves her hand dismissingly and says, "I just thought it was a possibility with the injuries," She admits, "... Would have loved to hear the tale of someone who confronted one though," She admits with a wry smirk. She glances around a bit and says, "... Eh, the place is short-staffed, the nurses are clinging to me like a magnet," She says in a whisper, "There's just so many patients here, urg, it's horrible.."

"It's called the 'Dead End' for a reason," the Insecticon supplies. "I've met one or two but we haven't fought... yet." Her frame sinks as Overclock lets out another sigh. "No point in that now... I'd just get scrapped again."

This seems to catch Minerva's interest, "Really, you have?" The femme hums softly and she lifts her hand up, scratching her chin, "And... Would you know where to find one, by any chance?" She asks.

Overclock looks up again. "And why... would you want to know that?" She asks dully.

"Mere curiousity?" Minerva answers with a shrug of her shoulder. She leans over and grins, "Let's just say I'd like to meet one,"

"A primordial would just eat you," the Insecticon deadpans.

A wicked grin grows on her lips as Minerva gestures a finger and points at the Insection, "Exactly!" She says. She blinks and adds, "Of course, the point is /not/ getting eaten! But that's the whole thing, you see.."

Overclock's tail twitches as she looks back at Minerva's outstretched finger. "...You're a strange medic."

Minerva arches a brow and she rests her hands on her waist, "Weeeeell... I'll take that as a compliment, I guess..." Better than way than any other way, "Can you say you've ever touched one?"

"A medic?" the beastformer asks strangely.

Minerva blinks. Waits. Then laughs, "Ahaha, no! No, a primordial!" She corrects.

The correction earns about the same response as Overclock settles on her circuit slab and adjusts to lay more comfortably. It seems she'll be there a while longer, after all.

"What's in your braincase?" She asks in reply, finding her life-saver more and more peculiar.

Leaning back, Minerva hums softly and she lifts one hand up to stroke her chin, "I'll take that as a 'no' then..." The femme replies with a nod. She puts her hands on the table Overclock's lying on and she moves closer, "Tell me one thing, how did it feel to see one?"

"See one? I've been under one," Overclock scoffs, breathing hot air into Minerva's face. "Do ancient myths excite you that much?"

Minerva's lips curl into a wide grin, "Ahah, awesome!" She says, gleefully clapping her hands together. "Not the ancient myths in particular, but the unusual experience -- the ground trembling, the loud roars.. A colossal beast! Nothing more exciting to get your energon pumping,"

"Ah, an adrenalox junkie," the beastformer mutters in disinterested realization. Her mind still seems to be elsewhere. "You're a sheltered thing, aren't you?"

"You could say that," Minerva says, waving her hand up dismissingly, "Let's just say I think there's more to my existence than having to listen to the depressing complaints of damaged mechs, lubing up creaky joints, tightening up lugnuts and soldering metal," She arches a brow and adds, "And by the sound of that, you've been out and about in the worst corners of Cybertron.."

"And young too... I'd wager," Overclock adds. "You're wasting a gift. I'd kill to be a medic."

Minerva narrows her optics, "Perceptive, aren't we?" She replies. The femme glances around and leans over, "Look -- why would you want to be a medic, hum? You get to literally drown in the mysery of every Cybertronian. Every cycle, you see the same things : injuried, damaged mechs, moaning in pain, whimpers and weak robots, it's depressing.."

She heaves a sigh and says, "This place ought to be the worst I've seen, really... And that means a lot," She folds her arms and says, "Lucky for you, with the fall of the Functionalist Council, being a medic might be possible..."

"Medics can keep people from dieing," Overclock answers directly, her attention finally aimed fully at Minerva if only for a moment. "If this is the worst you've seen it's no wonder you're unmotivated."

"Something will probably kill me before I can learn, anyway."

"They're part of a medic's life, and they're the majority of the patients we have to deal with. You'll get plenty of other robots, like you, when I've found you, that are in critical conditions but there are fewer of them.." Her lips curl into a faint smile, "Fortunately or unfortunately, depends on how you see it..." She admits.

Minerva lifts one hand up and taps her chin, "Hum, you want to be a medic that badly, do you...?" She wonders.

The beastformer goes momentarily silent and her optics flicker - a stray wire perhaps, or old memories intruding. "Yeah..." she answers despondently.

"I can show you the basics," Minerva says with a slow nod of her head. The femme sees no problem with that -- all the patients she has to deal with that aren't in immediate dangers can't really get in a worst condition, no? It sounds like an excellent idea! "I'll patch you up, and come with in Iacon, I'll let you do the cases and supervise everything.."

"Somehow I doubt anyone will like me standing over them... with a scalpel," Overclock notes dryly. Given the Insectibeast's appearance, it may not be an unfounded concern.

"You got a root mode, don't you?" The femme asks, arching a brow. She waves her hand dismissingly, "In that form, there shouldn't be any problem," She adds.

"I'm an Insecticon," Overclock points out.

"Are you?" Minerva says, arching a brow. She seems slightly surprised, "I thought Insections were mindless, or at least not capable of speech like that.." She says, folding her arms in front of her chest. That would explain the particular anatomy she had never dealt with before.

"Some of us are special," the beastformer replies in a sarcastic sing-song tone... or at least she tries to. With the damage to her vocoder it mostly just comes out staticky. "Did my tail not give it away?"

Minerva slowly frowns, "I..." She seems to hesitate for a moment, "Can't say I've actually seen one -- at least, with my own optics that wasn't displayed on a screen, eh,"

She lifts one hand up to stroke her chin and says, "We don't treat Insecticons... At least, I can't recall ever treating one." She admits. "Heard some high caste kept some as pets, thought they were drones for manual labors and all that.."

"Exactly," hisses coldly, her jaw rattling out a sound that's more buglike than bestial.

"Still want me... working patients in Iacon?"

Lips curling into a smile, Minerva lowers her gaze and she says, "... It'd be hypocrite of me to have fought against the ways of the council and then say to someone they can't do something because of what they are,"

The door of the recovery ward opens up, a nurse looking overtly worried until she spots Minerva, "Doctor Minerva, we've been looking for you, we..." Minerva heaves a sigh and turns on her heels, "Coming, coming..." She glances over to Overclock and says, "Rest for now.. Think about it..." She looks up and down and says, "After all, you seem too smart to be a pet, eh," She gestures with her hand before she strides toward the nurse.

Overclock growls in confusion at Minerva's abrupt departure, still a little slow to process in her partially-repaired state. Then the Insectibeast chuckles and dims her optics. "A strange doctor... but not as strange as the others, at least. Why are doctors all so creepy?..."