outer_divide | [Video, Monday Evening, Week 14] CMO's Log: Entry One

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[Video, Monday Evening, Week 14] CMO's Log: Entry One

[It's shortly after Nem's message goes out that a new face appears on the network. Bones had awoken from his pod a couple hours previously, but had spent the time finding his pants and prowling around with a suspicious glower, trying to get his bearings and trying to place just what the hell sort of alien storage facility he's found himself shunted to.]

I don't know where the hell I am, or who the hell you people are, but if you need shelter or you need medical help, then I'm inside some sort of stasis facility and the walls here look good and thick.

The name's McCoy. Dr. Leonard McCoy.

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Wow... you're pretty quick on the uptake.

Need anything? I mean, anything within reason? Transport? Supplies?

[Look at him, he tries to help, don't mind him.]

Oh hell, there's more of you.

[Hi, Drift. Don't mind the doctor, he'll get over the feeling of being surrounded by robots eventually.]

Transport to where, and supplies for what? All I know about the situation is what I've said, so some useful information would be appreciated.

I see you must have met Wing, then.

[He rubs the side of his helm, wincing.]

Well if you wanted to go to into the old city... I-

Ah. Useful information, right. We're all kind of in the same situation here. Apparently most of us have been asleep on that ship for quite some time.

Well now, that's interesting. How long, would you say?

[The question about wing receives a bare nod, before his attention is focused on the content of the briefing, rather than the appearance of the brief-er.]

I've heard of stasis, but it's more use for emergency medical situations, not long-term storage. Well, outside of some loons chasing immortality, anyways.

We're... not really sure. A long time. Could be months, could be years.

[He shrugs.]

Wing told me we were supposedly weapons in a war that's now long since ended. Kind of a perturbing thought.

Well, they're out of luck with me. I'm a doctor, not a piece of military hardware.

[Bones' glower is probably meant for the benefit of anyone istening in, rather than for Drift himself.]

Heh. Joke's on them, I guess?

You really remind me of someone...

[Ratchet. You remind him of Ratchet. You are Ratchet if Ratchet was a human.]

I'm not laughing.

[To be fair, while Leonard McCoy smirks, eyebrow-raises, smiles crookedly and often snorts, he rarely out-and-out laughs.]

But who would that be, then? Am I likely to have to wear a nametag?

Yeah... not many people are.

Ah. Well. Just a uh- [Friend? He can almost hear Ratchet's cranky voice objecting to that.] a crewmate. He was our ship's medic. Ratchet. Just heh- you have a similar demeanor.

[What with him being based off of a version of you and everything. But that's meta, we don't talk about that. Shhh.]

That's because any decent ship's medic has had a crash course in putting up with the medical idiocy of the people serving with them. Universal trait.

[The complaint has the tone of a well-worn one, more for style than out of actual substance.]

And am I going to be patching you up?

Is that what that is?

[Ratchet, for almost as long as he can remember, has been... uh. Testy/ Then again, millions of years of dealing with people like himself will do that.]

Aha- not unless you're an engineer.

Proven fact. I don't care if you're organic, synthetic or some strange cyborg in between, your medic's had to deal with seeing too many things coming back from away missions that he wishes he could forget.

But that's a relief. So long as there are some engineers around for you, anyways.

I... I don't doubt that.

[Yeah, the way Ratchet is. They exchange snark a lot, but he knows the old bot cares. At least he thinks so.]

Ah, I think so. I'm not sure, actually. Wing has survived long enough here, though. So I suppose I'm not terribly worried.

Wing.

[Bones repeats the name this time, squinting at Drift across the video pickup as he attempts to somewhat petulently get his bearings in a world that now includes giant sentient robots.]

The other giant robot. And you have a Ratchet, who apparently manages to practice medicine on the silicone set. Who are you? Monkey Wrench?

[Drift just brightens and laughs. Well, not the usual reaction, but this guy makes him a little homesick.]

Ahaha- Drift, actually. Just Drift.

Wing. Drift. Got it. The names mean anything, or is that the giant robot equivalent of John and George?

Well... kind of? I mean, they usually have something to do with our personalities or our alt-modes. Wing is a flier, so naturally. Ahah.

Me? I used to be kind of a drifter. [Homeless.] Annndddd I suppose had I really applied it, the body of a racer. So there's that.

The body. Of a racer.

How about we jump ahead to where you explain what that means.

What?

OH! Sorry. My species have alternate modes. Vehicles, usually. Mine is a vehicle that is fit for speed and maneuverability.

That's completely bizarre.

[A pause.]

Good for you. So. What can you tell me about the people here? I'm betting they can use a doctor.

Ahahaa... ha. Yeah. I guess. We've always been that way.

Uh, probably yes. We don't really have much here, so pretty much anything you can do.

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[Video, Monday Evening, Week 14] CMO's Log: Entry One

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