re_alignment_logs | questions, answers, etc

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WHO: Ambulon, Pharma, Drift
WHERE: Oh, you know... Wandering. I'm going to say somewhere around/near the Junkpile, but not quite in it.
WHEN Going to say a few days after the party at the club, when Ambulon can see straight again.
WHAT: Ambulon decides to search for Pharma, because he needs details on the Delphi incident. Drift is called in for backup.
WARNINGS: Nothing I can think of. I guess if Pharma tries to put up a fight, some violence?

Ambulon was pretty sure Blurr would chew out his audiols if he knew what he was doing. Probably burn and disintegrate them with how fast he talked. He'd ditched any bodyguard Blurr had suggested; though maybe they were following him, he honestly didn't know.

It'd been about two hours now. (Would've been considerably less, if he had a good alt mode.) Ambulon had tried to put himself in Pharma's mindset - actually, in the mindset of a criminal on the run. Where would they hide? The junkpile felt too obvious, but after searching pretty much everywhere else... Well, it seemed the only place left. The only place he could think of that would provide proper cover.

Ambulon arrived at the outskirts of the heap of junk and debris. Coming here unarmed was a ridiculous idea, he knew, but... Well, it's not like he had any weapons on him to bring. (Should probably think about investing in one...)

Besides, Drift would be waiting for the call.

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Ambulon had made his way around, toward the very edge, where the city bled into the borders of the junkpile. He swore he picked up something, however - an energy signature? Maybe. This place was too messed up to be for sure. Nonetheless, he followed the very faint trail, making his way slowly, cautiously onward, without for a moment perhaps looking off to the side...

Ambulon was definitely heading his way. Pharma sighed, scrubbing a tired, clawed hand across his face. Choices, it seemed, were the luxury of the innocent.

Pulling up his targeting system, the doctor allowed the panel hiding the two guns in his shoulders to slide quietly open. Two red targeting symbols floated across his vision, tracking the silohetted form of his warden until both were locked on and blinking.

Pharma gave the command to shoot.

Ambulon moved just in time - well, almost. The first shot grazed along his greave, taking with it paint and curls of metal. Nothing vital nicked or exposed, however. A superficial wound. Ambulon gasped, turned, and watched the second blast shoot through the air, inches away from his shocked faceplates.

Quickly recomposing, Ambulon jerked around, spotted the doctor. Vents cycling, he sprinted, running quick. Just enough speed to catch up to Pharma before he could make an escape. Twisted to the side, and launched an elbow into Pharma's neck, knocking them both over and onto the ground.

Ambulon kept the medic down with his weight, elbow still in his neck cables. Before he could start the interrogation, he quickly opened a commlink to Drift, alerting him of Pharma's capture and to get here preferably right now.

Drift looks up as his comm activates, hand slowing the slide of the whetstone over his short sword. The message is short and he's pretty sure the channel closes before he can reply, but he blurts out, "On my way," anyway. Just in case.

He's in his alt mode before he even exits the door of his room, tearing down the hallways, engines roaring.

Pharma had just enough time to see his first shot ping Ambulon's leg armor when there was suddenly a lot of badly painted chassis in his face and an explosion of pain in his neck. He hit the ground with a loud groan, hands flailing to find purchase on his attacker, claws digging into whatever was nearest.

When had Ambulon learned to move that fast? He'd never seen the warden work up to anything quicker than a brisk trot before. His choice of body part had been impeccable too. At this rate, if the weight was not lifted from his neck cables, he would pass out from lack of energon to the processor. And perhaps...that was the plan.

Ambulon would have replied to Drift's response, but then hands were ripping into the plating along his back and down his face. Ambulon growled and used his free hand to grab one of Pharma's, forcing it down on the ground. "Calm down!" Ambulon snapped. He removed some of the pressure from the medic's throat before forcefully straddling him, keeping Pharma pinned.

"Don't try anything stupid, or I will put you into stasis," Ambulon ordered, and his elbow ground into one fuel pump along Pharma's throat for a split second. "Drift is on his way. We're taking you back to the police station under suspicion of... of..." He just scowled and got into the medic's face, snapping, "I know you killed First Aid. I know you did it! And I found out what happened at Delphi. What you did to us - our patients, innocent lives--!" His elbow thrust against another pump again, drew back. "Why, Pharma!?" he snarled, spittle hitting the restrained mech's face.

It was the blinding rage and betrayal that pushed the adrenaline through Ambulon's circuitry. He knew he should calm himself, keep Pharma incapacitated, but... No. No, he needed answers. He couldn't wait for a proper interrogation. So he'd have his own. Fortunately, even enraged, Ambulon knew when to stop himself. Best let Pharma think otherwise - after all, he was a no good, dirty Decepticon traitor. Let him think that if it put fear in him and forced him to explain.

No good Decepticon traitors apparently stuck together: Drift's brakes screech as he arrives at the coordinates. His tires catch, skidding sideways for a klik before he bursts out of his vehicle mode, drawing his blades.

It's probably pretty impressively badaft.

He lands next to Ambulon, one sword braced near Pharma's face. "Right. How about we all just calm down."

Because Drift showing up with stabbing weapons is entirely a calming thing.

Calm down? Was he kidding? Pharma could see absolutely no reason why he would need to be calm- pinned by a former decepticon who not only hated him for what he had done, but also intended to take him in for his crimes. His engine growls weakly at the treatment to his throat, cooling fans cycling uselessly inside his chassis. Absently, the doctor muses on all the different complications he may end up with based on the accumulated damage to his neck cables.

Ambulon's accusations make his lip curl up in a wordless snarl, hating the patter of coolant that lands on his cheek. They're all true, of course, but to be treated like this by an ex-decepticon? How dare the warden think himself the moral high ground!

He can't answer Ambulon's plaintive cries of 'why' with the other mech's elbow in his throat, and even if he could, the screech of brakes interrupt them and Pharma's life instantly gets worse. Drift. The mech who, in the end, ruined everything. Oh, Ratchet was to blame too- but he'd had the medic in his cross-hairs. He would have still gotten away with everything if Drift hadn't jumped in out of nowhere and severed his hands.

His optics roll upwards to meet the white mech's, silently expressing his contempt for Drift and his ridiculous weapons.

It didn't take long before the rage clouding Ambulon's view quickly parted. It was almost like a slap upside the head. He looked to Drift's sword, then to Pharma's face, twisted with anger, before slowly drawing back his arm. "Sorry," he mumbled to Drift, keeping optics locked with his former boss's. He carefully stood off of Pharma and moved away, vents cycling as he calmed himself.

Ambulon turned a moment later. "Just in case it isn't made obvious," he said, words biting, "shoot again, and I'm sure Drift will be happy to disarm you." He sucked in air, bright yellow optics softening. "Drift," he said again, and turned to the white Autobot. "Before we take him in, I want to... I want to talk to him. The police will interrogate him, I know, but... I need answers. Explanations. And... I'd go so far as to say, so do you."

Ambulon's hard gaze lingered back to Pharma. "I'm sure you don't mind enlightening us," he said, coldly.

"Don't apologize. Just, let's find a way through this before someone gets hurt. er." Yes, shush hurt-er It's a word. Kind of.

He can feel the searing hate off Pharma. It's so clear now, the contempt that had been there all along, that he'd written off as Pharma being discomfited by the loss of his hands. That wasn't it: Pharma hated him.

It still hurt, despite the fact that he should be used to it by now.

His blade never wavers from Pharma's face. "I don't see what's wrong with a little talking." First Aid's half-shrouded questions sift through his mind again, suspicions and doubts. "I just want the truth, and I don't think the truth can harm anyone."

Pharma watches his former warden as he draws back, remaining completely still even as he is released. He knows when not to push it and when swords are involved is exactly when you don't push it. Physically. That didn't mean he couldn't use his words.

"Why should I tell you two anything? Incriminating myself further hardly seems like a smart course of action," he sneers, optics flicking from Ambulon's to Drift's.

"But let me guess- you have ways of making me talk, don't you? You're both former decepticons and I don't doubt torture was in your training. Go ahead, then. Prove me right that you've never really been autobots. Just monsters hiding behind a red badge," he spat.

Ambulon just frowned and stared at his former employer. "You know," he said a moment later, folding his arms, "I've been an Autobot for ten years now. I've been called nastier things than you would ever imagine. However, I've also built up a rather fair immunity to such snide remarks." Because, seriously? He expected such jabs at his past from Pharma anyway.

"You don't have to tell me why you killed First Aid." Ambulon wasn't going to pretend Pharma simply a suspect. "You can tell that to the police. What I want to know is why you made that deal with the DJD? To protect Delphi?" He glowered. "Your pride precedes you. Instead of reaching out for help and thinking up some sort of resolution with the rest of us, you went and engineered a virus." His voice grew a little heated. "You infected and risked the lives of our patients - your patients. You were going to abandon them."

Ambulon turned his nose up to Pharma. "You can think what you will of me, but what you did was on par with the Decepticons themselves. And I pity you, really, for it."

"You've just incriminated yourself in something," Drift said. You don't protest about incriminating yourself unless you've done something you don't want to talk about. "Sometimes it's better to be honest than smart." ~~Just ask Rodimus~~

Wait, what??!

"You? At Delphi? You were behind it?" The blade doesn't move but Drift's torn between anger and confusion. "...why?"

Ambulon's lack of violent response surprises the doctor, especially with how quickly and roughly he'd taken him down a few moments ago. To make it worse, Drift doesn't seem effected by his verbal barbs either. The sword tip is still in his face and both of them are still trying to coerce him into talking.

Which is funny, because at this point- he's sure whatever magical bubble was keeping them ignorant has popped. They were both there on that primus-forsaken planet, as well as First Aid, and it seems everyone's memory has been jogged.

He'd been so careless to think killing the young medic would tie everything up neatly. Why didn't it ever work?

Fine. If he was going to talk, he was going to defend himself.

"Yes. I was behind the whole situation at Delphi," Pharma began, looking Drift square in the optics.

"And before you speak about pride and pity, let me explain." That was for Ambulon, whom he also gave a stern look. "Get that sword out of my face and let me sit up."

Edited 2012-12-12 23:21 (UTC)

Ambulon studied Pharma a moment, then looked to Drift. Nodded. "I think he realizes he's outnumbered and overpowered," he added. He glanced back at his former employer. "So, let's hear him out."

Drift isn't quite as sure as Ambulon is about that. Mostly because mechs don't go from 60 to 0 that fast. But it doesn't matter: he's pretty sure he can stop Pharma from misbehaving.

He pulls the sword back but doesn't put it away entirely.

"Pity's for those who don't kill innocents."

With the offending sword no longer threatening to cut off anything else precious to him, Pharma cleared his throat and sat up straight, attempting to gather some of his scattered dignity.

"I did what I had to. Can you say the same, Deadlock?" he replied, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Oh, but I'm sorry- you were just confused, weren't you? So nice that everyone gives you a pass because of your tragic little sob story. Sadly, some of us have to make real decisions." Once he was done skewering Drift, the doctor shifted his focus to Ambulon, giving him the same disappointed frown he had often leveled him with back on Delphi.

"From the beginning, my choice was clear. As an Autobot, and a doctor, I had to protect the clinic. You know as well as I do that high command would never move the mining operation despite being perfectly aware of the fact that they were setting it up in DJD territory. My clinic was the only chance any of those miners had to leave the planet alive."

He paused there, as if daring them to argue with his assessment of bureaucracy.

"I had everything under control. Dead mechs' t-cogs were a small price to pay for our safety. Tell me you would not make the same decision, Ambulon? Knowing that is was that or allow the DJD to slaughter us all?" He sounds like he's not expecting a positive answer from the warden, but perhaps hoping for one anyway.

Ambulon ignored Pharma's dig into Drift's past. Not his problem, not important. He listened carefully, however, and... Well, he wouldn't confess that he was somewhat... relieved? What Pharma did was still wrong, but at least his reason why had some sort of merit. For a moment, Ambulon stayed quiet, debating if Pharma was being honest or just trying to make himself out to be a damn martyr. Autobots were not automatically saints.

In the end, he was still confused.

"I have a feeling you're omitting some details," he said a moment later. "So you did what you thought was right then? Did you steal only from the deceased?" Because the idea that Pharma would kill patients for t-cogs... He shook his head. "Why didn't you come to First Aid and I? Why didn't you ask for help? We could have figured something out. Together. You didn't have to suffer alone, you know." He cursed and looked away; Pharma's damn Autobot pride.

And to answer Pharma's question, finally: "I would have come to you. I would have. You and First Aid. You had that alternative; don't tell me you didn't. Don't tell me you could condemn an entire clinic and its patients, as well as your colleagues if need be, but seeking help was completely out of the question."

Drift gives a snort of laughter that surprises himself with its bitterness. "If you think anyone's 'given me a pass' because of what I did, you...," he shrugs. It's almost ridiculous. No one trusted him.

"You realize, that you could have engineered this virus and set it loose on the DJD instead? It would have made you a hero, Pharma. Instead, you chose collaboration and the murder of your own kind."

Pharma holds up a hand- an ironic thing to do near Drift- indicating he has more to say yet.

"Do you seriously think I didn't consider that?" he replies to the swordsmech. "I'm not an idiot. I went over all of my options countless times. I even went so far as to ask Sonic and Boom to detonate the sound bomb within range of the DJD. You know what their response was? 'Not for anything in the world.' I don't know if you understand exactly how powerful the mechs that will be coming after you are, Drift. But I suggest you take them as a threat level on par with Megatron himself."

Done with that explanation, he readies himself for Ambulon's, which is quite a bit trickier to answer.

"I never intended to take t-cogs from anyone but the dead," he says slowly. "And you'd have come to me, eh? Do you know why? Because you know you aren't intelligent enough to handle it yourself. You would involve others, endanger others because you don't have the processor or the nerve to be the one who takes on the mess."

Pharma's tone of voice gets harsher with each word, hands balling into fists, his optics narrow but burning brightly. "I knew I was the only one who could handle it. And I would NOT involve anyone else, especially not anyone who might crack under the pressure!"

All those times... having to endure Tarn's teasing, threatening. Keeping everything secret. In order. Walking the razor's edge, knowing that if he could just make it out on the other side... if he was just smart enough...

"I had no intention of condemning the clinic...or either of you..." Pharma says, suddenly quieter now. "It wasn't supposed to come down to that. I...I failed. At my duty. At everything I'd worked so hard for."

The wing panels on his arms droop, balled fists falling into his lap and uncurling.

Ambulon remained calm. Yup, immunity to Pharma's biting tongue. Pharma never really liked him, but that was fine - Ambulon respected him (well, did) more than like him. "You always seem to assume the worst..." In him? Ambulon didn't know, really. "You think I would crack under the pressure? I would have stayed with my patients. I would have willingly infected myself, put my life on the line for them. I wouldn't have run." He narrowed his optics. "And, apparently, I didn't run. I stayed and fought. And so did First Aid."

He folded his arms again. "You never intended to hurt us? Why do I find that hard to believe? Especially when your plan fell to pieces?" Like, perhaps, put the blame on someone else so they could suffer for your wounded pride? Maybe?

Ambulon sneered. "You talk how people are weak and incapable of handling pressure. We're doctors. We worked at Delphi, on DJD territory. And you know what? Everything backfired on you. Just as you said, you failed. And then in your fear you go and murder First Aid? It sounds like you're the one who cracked under pressure. You're the one who was too weak. And if there was indeed an ounce of sympathy for us left in you, you would have known as colleagues and friends, you wouldn't be sharing any burden. We'd gladly help you out."

[ooc: Also, I don't think Ambulon ever found out Pharma tried to pin the blame on him, so yeah lol.]

"There was something you could have done," Drift says. "Something that doesn't ruin the very nature of what it is to be a medic."

Drift may be a killer, but he did it cleanly, at least, and openly. It was the first time he felt almost morally superior to someone. To be honest, he didn't enjoy it as much as he thought he might.

Pharma scowls at both of them, turning his head away and staring out at the expanse of junk on the horizon.

"You stayed and fought, yes. But it was not the DJD you went up against. It was me. And I was going to give you the mercy of a swift death. Ratchet and Drift ruined everything- forced me to sloppily race to finish it."

Blame was not something Pharma took easily. In fact, he had managed to avoid it completely his entire career up until the Delphi incident. He was perfect and if things went wrong then it was someone else who was less perfect's fault.

"Why is it so hard to believe that I would not want to harm my staff? I worked you hard, yes- and I disliked you for being an ex-decepticon, but I did not wish you dead."

He falls silent again, listening to their accusations of weakness with closed optics, silent save for the frantic whirring of cooling fans. The only indication of his feelings is the slight tremor in the fingers that now clutch at his arms.

"...Hind-sight is twenty-twenty isn't it?" he whispers. "It doesn't matter what decision I made. It only matters that I failed."

"I'm not complaining about being overworked or worked too hard, Pharma," Ambulon nearly snapped. "I'm complaining about the fact that you still don't see the point we're trying to make. You just..." He clenched his fists. "Nevermind. You obviously don't get it. And you never will."

Ambulon turned away then. It was... tragic. Seeing someone once so brilliant torn down to this mess. Yet he didn't want to say what was on his mind right now. More questions to ask, but... Not now, at least. Not when he was still angry.

"I'm done," he said, and glanced back to Drift. "If you've any questions, go ahead and ask. If not, then take him to the police. But..." Ambulon looked back at Pharma, and worst he knew for the doctor was not the rage in his optics, but the pity. "I'm done."

Mercy of a swift death? "What would you know about 'mercy', Pharma? You were eliminating witnesses, that's all." And he shuddered to think how closely he'd come to being 'eliminated' along with them.

Ironic that Pharma despised he and Ambulon for their Decepticon pasts, when he'd acted just as bad as a Decepticon at his worst.

"...why? Why heal the Red Rust, here?" He wants to hear that this was an attempt at redemption, a new start. He's trying to give Pharma the chance he never got.

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questions, answers, etc

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ignore all the potential double entendres plz.

I refuse! "short" sword, eh Drift?

Cum on, you guys.

..........

:D

serious post; awkward three-way sexual tension subject lines

it was all srs bsns until Drift derped his way in. orz

DECEPS SUK

You are 10 years old, Pharma.

jets. they're all jerks. Uh, except wing

yay jerk jets

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is there where the dramatic sad violin starts playing

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