Night 50: M61-M70 Hallway

[doneinthree]

[M66]

Kirk went rummaging through his desk the moment Landel mentioned the "reward" in the drawer, but unless "Portal Ring" was some obtuse term for the metal circle which held the two keys which locked his drawer and the door to their room, there wasn't anything worth noting. (Although he had forgotten about the power packs in there, and quickly

Comments

M62

[perfectrecord]

As the Head Lunatic's message over the intercom heralded the start of the night shift, von Karma unlocked his desk drawer, preparing to gather the items he might need to carry along for tonight's meeting. But before he opened it, Landel started babbling about some item awarded to certain members of each travelling party from the previous night. What was this about a "Portal Ring" bearing special properties of teleportation? From Landel's explanation of who would receive one, von Karma wasn't surprised that no such bauble was awaiting him inside his desk. However... he knew that at least Police Chief Gant or Chief Prosecutor Skye might have one in their possession... and possibly also his daughter or Mr. Gavin. Most likely, Mr. Ratchet did as well, but for now, von Karma had no time to tarry around in this room to inquire of dubious trinkets; he had more important matters to attend to tonight

[war_wounds]

Ratchet had to wonder what the point of swapping out one set of cloth coverings for another one was, but he'd learned not to voice those kinds of questions. Maybe Von Karma felt more like himself that way. Must be nice. Ratchet certainly couldn't feel more like himself by draping a different fabric over the bonebag he was trapped in.

With the slightest of nods and a grave countenance, Von Karma was gone for the evening. To do what, Ratchet didn't know or care. It was about time he got moving, too. Not that he knew where he was going or what, in particular, he should be looking out for, but the night only lasted so long. No point wasting it.

It didn't take as long for Ratchet to get ready. Armed only with his portable light, he stepped out into the hall.

Now then, where would a human hide something the size of an ambulance? Just because Von Karma hadn't seen his chassis didn't mean it wasn't in here somewhere.

[arc_wrench]

HK was almost depressed enough by the start of the night that he might resort to a sigh (useless meatbag attempt at nuance through respiration) to express it. He hadn't gotten any confirmation from Lugnut about their plans, not to the point that suggested that there were any. Maybe the Decepticon had gotten into another fight over... something he found important (which, following that train of thought, was probably Megatron), and had gotten drugged or put in solitary confinement. Or maybe he'd been drawn for the brainwashing

[war_wounds]

Ratchet had gotten used to the idea that any humans roaming the halls carried a portable light with them, so when a voice suddenly addressed him from the darkness it was an unpleasant shock. Luckily, he caught sight of who it was before he actually bludgeoned HK.

"First of all," he snapped, annoyed at being spooked, "it's rude to creep up on a bot like that. And don't call me a meatbag again, or I'll find a way to make you regret it." He didn't need any more reminders of his current affliction than he already had, thank you very much.

"If I could access it, I'd tell you how my nav systems are doing." He tapped the side of his head as illustration. "I think you'll agree I'm in no shape to transmit a diagnostic query right now. Obviously." Not that he didn't try to access one system or another twenty times a solar cycle out of simple habit. It was disorienting every time it failed.

[arc_wrench]

HK danced back a few steps, regardless of current lack of attempted smashing. No reason to leave an opening, after all.

"Protestation: I was not sneaking, I was merely walking. The squishy photoreceptors the meatbags have given me have infrared capabilities, making light sources unnecessary. Furthermore, if I were to 'creep up' on you, it would likely be for a reason." A reason that involved stabbing. But it could just as easily mean actually attempting to startle and see if he could provoke any interesting flaily reactions. "And I was not referring to you specifically as a meatbag. You are not. You are temporarily afflicted with this most serious of medical conditions." As was he, and it wasn't something he wanted reminders of either"Statement: Yes, meatbags have a terrible lack of heads up display. I personally miss my targeting protocols." Not that he needed their help, of course. Not at this range. But what if he got an unscoped rifle and a target a quarter mile or more away?! These were the horrors that plagued HK's nightmares.

[war_wounds]

"I'll bet." Ratchet gave the knife a pointed look. He didn't doubt HK was telling the truth, but for the moment everyone was playing nice. Thankfully. He was in no shape right now to end anything HK decided to start. Besides, he'd told Depth Charge he wouldn't make trouble, and so when HK (sort of) apologized for the meatbag comment, Ratchet decided to be gracious about it and simply nodded

[arc_wrench]

"Query: How much?" Regardless of whether they were currently at something of a truce, he couldn't resist the urge to make snarky comments. He just wouldn't feel he was being true to himself if he didn't express every single thought of a whimsical nature that could potentially bring annoyance and frustration to others!

"Agreement: Human meatbags have terrible design. So many requirements for function aren't even handled automatically, and a good deal of them are disgusting. Just as a mild example, meatbags need to intake atmospheric oxygen, but the 'breathing' function is easily interrupted, and not fully regulated by unconscious systems. Furthermore, those organs require a certain amount of water coating the inside to remain slimy and functional, but too much and the meatbag will be unable to breathe and die. And that is only one of the millions of things that could potentially go wrong, or function in an irritating and inefficient manner." Don't even get him started on blinking

[war_wounds]

Was the kid getting smart with him? Ratchet narrowed his optics. He was in no mood for that slag right now.

"And 'Spark help you if you manage to get something lodged in the intake hose." Which humans had to risk every time they had to refuel. They really were a wreck of a design.

So, he could eliminate the basement and the second floor as possibilities. That was actually a lot more information than Ratchet had been expecting. "The third floor. Alright, then that's where I'm headed." If he couldn't open the doors, then he'd find a way to smash through the wall. He wanted his body back; his current one was too small and squishy and filled with mucus.

"Wait a nanoklik. They can hack our processors?" That was...worrying. It was good to hear that they kept all the robots' frames intact, but the fact that they could alter programming, even temporarily, was a major problem. It wasn't surprising that they could do so to HK, him being human-made and all. That Lockdown had also been tampered with meant the staff here had

[arc_wrench]

No reply to the jab. Where was HK going to get his fun tonight if not from arguments? ...Well. Hopefully from killing, of course.

"Irritation: Urgh, I hate that sensation. There really is no reason for fuel and air intake lines to be crossed, other meatbag species handle those processes more sensibly." Although it was funny to watch meatbags nearly or actually kill themselves that way, the humor was somehow lost when it could also happen to him.

"Statement: I do not know how to reach the third floor. The way up appears to be hidden somewhere." It certainly hadn't appeared on any map that he had seen prior to the beginning of the tyrannical message board censorship.

"Affirmative: Yes, they can, unfortunately. I was even ordered not to kill anything," HK complained bitterly. True, the results of the light maiming he'd given one of the meatbags had been interesting and entertaining, but what good was an assassin droid when they were ordered not to kill?!"Statement: He was outside, minimizing damage to the facility. Although someone

[war_wounds]

So, the way up there was hidden, somehow. Ratchet looked up at the ceiling tiles. "Well, we know it's above the second floor. Maybe we could make our own way up if we found the proper tools." Too bad Bulkhead wasn't here. Being asked to knock a big hole in something would probably make his day.

Being ordered not the kill wasn't, in and of itself, a bad thing, though HK would surely disagree. Ratchet still had to wonder why the humans had put the assassin back in his real chassis if they didn't want to use him for his intended purpose. "And Lockdown would likely have gotten similar orders." Wouldn't that have been a surreal sight to see. "I still can't believe they managed to hack him. Surely the glitch would've kept his firewalls in shape; a human shouldn't be able to do something like that to one of us." Of all the entities Ratchet didn't want mucking around with his processor, humans were fairly high on the list. Especially this particular group of humans.

[arc_wrench]

"Statement: I occasionally see mention of individuals who might be skilled in making what simple explosives can be created in this place. The bulletin board is the best place to check, but not now, of course. Now, there will be some sort of indescribable or simply extremely confusing horror trying to attack everything within the Sun Room, if the night is progressing as it normally does." The most interesting so far had been the boy who somehow attacked them by shooting himself in the head. That still confused him, and was rather worrying. Were there other meatbags who pulled giant malevolent entities out of thin air when they were shot in the head? And more importantly, what happened if you shot them somewhere else

[war_wounds]

"A bomb of some kind would be the fastest way to-" Ratchet blinked. "There's a what in the Sun Room?" Why would anything be in there? It was just lumpy furniture and the occasional bad vidfile as far as he could figure.

He couldn't help a derisive snort at HK's next statement. "Tch! I don't know if I'd call most of them his weapons." That went for most of Lockdown's chassis, actually. But Lockdown was gone now, hopefully permanently, and Ratchet had other matters to worry about. "Hmm. You don't act like someone with memory core damage." And there was a bit of useful experience he'd much rather not have. "They must have been able to either disable the protocols or skirt around them without setting them off." Ratchet wasn't a programming specialist. If they managed to find where all this tinkering was taking place, would he be able to counter it? He didn't know.

[arc_wrench]

"Conjecture: I am assuming you are referring to the aforementioned grab bag assortment of impossible hostiles that are chosen from to guard the area almost every single night, and not the bulletin." Although the board could potentially be dangerous to one's sanity. "Let it be said that although I obviously am loath to give up any excuse to engage in combat, I see no--well, maybe just a little--shame in sprinting as fast as possible through the Sun Room at night. Most of the things stationed there seem indestructible by what means are available to us

[war_wounds]

So, there were guards of some kind in the Sun Room, a place holding nothing of obvious value, leading to nowhere obviously important. Ratchet wasn't sure what to make of that. He was a medibot, not a strategist. He did know that he saw absolutely no shame in running as fast as he could away from anything that could kick his skidplate as thoroughly as HK was implying. "What means?" He gestured to his unarmed, unarmored, pitifully small chassis. "And what's past the Sun Room that's worth risking getting slagged for?" Or would that be 'splatted

[arc_wrench]

HK held up his long knife to illustrate, showing the whole of the forearm-length blade. "Statement: I also have small throwing weapons, and would normally be carrying an axe, but Lugnut was in need of a weapon, so I gave it to him last night. Request: If you see him, please don't damage it. I like that weapon. I used it to kill twenty-one zombie meatbags several nights ago." That was a fond memory. The zombies had come apart in such satisfying ways.

"Answer: Likely they are restricting movement, and attempting to limit entry to the kitchen area, where, of course, there is a hidden entrance to the basement via one of the refrigerated rooms," HK replied almost breezily, as if this whole situation could be counted as normal for anyone.Although he still noted and felt need to reply to the expression on Ratchet's squishy face. "Agreement: Yes, it is yet another injustice meatbags heap upon droidkind, and no, I don't like it. But as an assassin, I felt no need to change it. The general trustworthiness of civilian models afforded me a great

[war_wounds]

The knife was comparatively big, Ratchet had to admit, but he was distracted by the thought of Lugnut with a slagging axe. "Don't worry, kid. Unless he chips it on my skull, I don't think there's much I can do to it," he said, lip curling at the thought of voluntarily interacting with the huge Decepticon brute. Especially when said Decepticon had an axe. No, thank you.

"Ah. Of course, it's all so obvious now." Why have access to the basement in such an obscure place? And why was the basement worth bothering with if their bodies weren't down there?

Ratchet glared, unimpressed. "So, you've gained sentience, and you use it to take advantage of your brothers' limitations. How noble." HK hadn't been sentient for very long, true, but Ratchet thought the right course of action would have been apparent even to the very young.