Log edited with Logedit 2.6.9pl on Mon Nov  3 07:08:10 EST 1997

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Perceptor rushes into the laboratory from the hallway as he hears movement. 
  He pauses momentarily as he steps through the door, surprised to see the 
  drone up an about. Taking a few cautious steps forward, he takes 
  appraisal of the situation. 
Small Drone starts trying to download sensitive files, buzzing as it's arms 
  reach out towards tools and materials on the nearby table, like it wants 
  to take the computer apart. 
Perceptor rushes toward the drone, flailing his arms. "Get away from 
  there!" he shouts. "He grabs several of the tools from the table and 
  moves them to the far counter. 
<Autobot> A slightly feminine code blurts, "All forces will stand and fall 
  into the tunnels, regroup at foothills around Crystal, get those rocks up 
  and down." It continues to blabber in mixed up code and phrases. 
Transmission from Dice: Sir, what was that message all about? 
<Autobot> AHQ Emergency Channel Perceptor speaks amid a cacophony of 
  commotion in the background. "I could really use some help here with 
  these drones ...one of them appears to have broken its restraints and is 
  accessing computer files." 
Muse enters from the Central Hallway West to the south. 
Muse races in, extending her Quarterstaff as she goes. She halts, skidding 
  to a stop, assessing the situation. 
Small Drone continues to download the computer, as it brings over a tool to 
  start taking the device apart. 
Muse eyes the drone, bringing her staff up, and advances on it carefully. 
  She doesn't seem to know what to make of it, but seems about ready to 
  whack it, regardless. 
Perceptor stands near the drone, trying to pull it away from the computer. 
  He doesn't even notice as the doors slide open. 
Small Drone gets pulled back from the computer and it scans around, arms 
  picking up tidbits of debris and parts. 
Muse emits, "Muse up at bat?", she asks, pulling the staff back. 
Dice enters from the Central Hallway West to the south. 
Dice comes in, at a run, "What's up?". 
Small Drone seems to have decided to take the lab apart. It's arms probe 
  and reach, grabbing at anything, including Perceptor. 
From Muse, Muse activates the Quarterstaff. 
Perceptor's arm is caught by the drone as he d 
Perceptor's arm is caught by the drone as he struggles near the computer 
  console. 
Muse swings the staff towards the drone, a spiderweb of white static 
  dancing down its length. 
Perceptor calls out, "Muse! Dice! This drone was unrestrained and has 
  somehow managed to break into our broadcast frequency. It played back 
  some recording, apparently ...something from the database." 
Dice groans, "Aww damned, not another one...", she sighs and tries to get 
  in close on the drone, grabbing for it. 
Muse chirps, growling softly as she mutters, "We got chills--they're 
  multiplyin'." 
Dice doesn't get the otherwise rather obvious connection there, diving for 
  the drone to catch it. 
Small Drone gets grabbed as it tries to grab Perceptor to make something 
  itself. 
Muse swings the staff in a strike towards the drone, a spiderweb of white 
  static dancing down its length. 
Small Drone gets caught by the pulse. It trembles and shakes as it gives up 
  it's persuit of Perceptor. 
Dice takes out her gun, then thinks twice about it, since this might need 
  to be looked over, not wrecked, and instad turns around herself, 
  delivering a roundhouse kick, squarely on the drone. 
Perceptor struggles in the drone's grasp, attempting to free himself from 
  its probing and utility mechanisms. As the other two Cybertronians swing 
  toward the drone, the scientist takes advantage of the opportunity and 
  breaks loose, falling to the ground at the base of the computer console. 
Muse jerks back slightly, another spiderweb of light crackling up and down 
  the staff's length. She issues no further attacks, staring at the drone 
  queerly. 
Dice looks at the thing, "What in Primus name is going on with the 
  drones...is this a fullscale rebellion or something?". 
Perceptor rises to one knee, then slowly stands back to both feet. He takes 
  a few cautious steps back from the drone, keeping his full attention 
  focused upon its aberrant actions. Reaching his left hand slowly behind 
  himself, Perceptor begins to tap a few buttons on the command console. 
Small Drone smacks into the wall, and goes inert, the computer still 
  beeping fitfully over what appear to be... Femme orders, and battleplans. 
Muse hunches down slightly, posturing like a jungle savage, and jabs the 
  staff in the drone's direction, though she's still too far from it to 
  hope to reach. The black optics narrow, suspicious. 
Dice hmm's and takes out an enerale, sipping it, "One down, primus knows 
  how many to go...". 
Upon receiving no response to the commands he entered, Perceptor spins 
  around to gaze upon the screen. His yellow optics flash brightly as he 
  looks at the flickering sequences of images. "These are all 
  highly-classified files!" he exclaims in surprise. "Both of these drones 
  have demonstrated some exemplifying characteristics at getting into 
  highly delicate information." 
Muse chatters to herself, "Yeah, my kid's an honor student, too. How do we 
  -deactivate- them?" 
Dice heys. "Whoa big red...speak cybertronian, please. I lost you 
  there...you're saying these drones are intelligent?". 
Small Drone weakly hovers back over to the sculpture, positioning itself in 
  front of it. 
Perceptor presses a sequence of several more buttons on the console, but to 
  no avail. The screen continues to flash rapidly through highly-classified 
  files ...all of which seem to center around some facility in proximity to 
  Crystal City. 
Dice hmm's, "What's the beef with that sculpture? It sticks to it like it 
  was important.". 
Muse blinks, swinging her optics towards the statue, as well. "Yeah...but 
  is it art?" 
Perceptor turns around from the screen, looking toward the drone and the 
  sculpture with which it is juxtaposed. "I have no idea how this sculpture 
  came to be in this room, but the Femme soldiers would most likely not 
  appreciate the effigy," he says. Glancing over his shoulder toward the 
  screen, Perceptor says, "The computer will not be of much use until 
  someone can override what it's doing. I do not have the level of 
  authorization required to do so." 
Small Drone seems to take a splattering of pink paint, and starts in on the 
  sculpture, matching schemes evenly as it coats the former Femme leader. 
Dice erh's, "What is it doing that for?? something's up with the thing...". 
Muse watches the now-artistic drone, squinting at it, and draws herself up 
  to her full height. 
Muse chirps. "...What fashion sense. What pizzaz. What the hell...?" 
Perceptor's optics flicker in confusion. "I have never observed a drone 
  partaking in actions such as these," he says with amazement. "They do not 
  contain the appropraite programming parameters. If there is anything 
  similar to the circuitry of this drone to the currently deactivated 
  drone..." 
From Muse, Muse deactivates the Quarterstaff. 
Muse uses the deactivated staff to tentatively poke at the Drone's back. 
Dice shakes her head, "nononono...take a look at it..it's painting the 
  statue, but it's presice. How does a drone know that? Can you check it to 
  see if someone planted this programming in it?". 
Small Drone doesn't respond at first to the prodding, before spinning 
  around to seemingly look at Muse. One of it's arms reaches up, and 
  studies Muse before it reaches over, and tries to settle a junked Autobot 
  symbol on her chestplate. 
Muse holds still for this, turning her chin down to observe the symbol. 
Perceptor nods his head toward Dice. "I can, but that would require 
  grabbing it, deactivating it, and curring away like we have done with the 
  drone right here..." The scientists voice trails off as he looks toward 
  the other drone on the table. He quickly rushes to its side and grabs the 
  internal plating cover from the nearby tray. Placing it firmly into 
  position on the deactivated drone, Perceptor then drop to his knee to 
  enter a series of commands into the monitor station. 
With a flicker of sound and lights, the previously-deactivated drone comes 
  back to awareness, although still restrained. Several of its arms attempt 
  to reach forward, but are held in place by the restraints. 
Muse glances from the sigil to the drone, a shimmer of light moving across 
  the black optics in an approximation of a blink. 
Small Drone floats backwards again and starts to paint the drone dutifully 
  again, and with great care. 
Perceptor stands back up and takes a step back from the table, curiously 
  watching both drones. He looks toward Muse and Dice, then hesitatingly 
  toward the restraints still holding down the second drone. 
Muse peers at it, almost curiously, then steps forward. She makes no 
  further attempts to disturb the drone's work, but merely watches 
  it--taking in the details of the statue. 
Dice just watches, not wanting to interrupt anything before she gets an 
  order to do something. 
Muse glances back towards Perceptor, chirping, "...Maybe he misses her?" 
Perceptor nods his head toward Muse. "Possibly, but only very remotely. 
  Drones perform duties, and should not even be capable of 'missing' other 
  entities." 
The drone on the table begins to emit a few loud chirps, flashing its 
  lights as it recognizes the fact that it is still in the restraints. It 
  pivots its sensor unit, and the chirping stops abruptly when it looks 
  toward the sculpture. 
Muse warbles to herself, parrot-like, and turns back to watch the drone. 
  There is a certain amount of sympathy in her expression. 
Muse watches this, then blinks. Her face whirls towards Perceptor. 
Dice looks really, really thoughtful, "Can it have "served" her while she 
  was alive?". 
Muse asks, "Hologram?" A request, apparently. 
Perceptor says calmly, "I did not work in conjunction with many of the 
  Femmes, unfortunately. I do not know if they had drones working closely 
  with them." Glancing over toward Muse, he nods his head with approval. 
Small Drone chirps towards the restrained drone noisly as it's arms reach 
  out for the restraints. 
Dice hm's, "Perceptor, it's calm now. Can't you disable it and take alook 
  at it's core?". 
Dice dives in and grabs the drone that's free, "Oh NO you don't,...", she 
  pants and lands, rolling around. 
Perceptor says calmly, "Let's see what they're doing before we deactivate 
  them. I want to observe the reaction between them ...as well as finding 
  out what Muse is contemplating." 
Muse tamps her staff slightly, and explains, "...A picture says a thousand 
  words. Calms upset stomachs and soothes nerves... 
Muse reaches to a button on her staff... 
From Muse, 
Muse fiddles with the staff, and a silvery beam suddenly flashes from the 
  centergrip. In gazing upon it, you see... 
It is a three-demensional recorded hologram of a Junkion. The relative 
  inactivity of it suggests that the hologram was intended as a momento, 
  and not for any real practical application. Standing just over 14 feet, 
  Krank has the wizened look of an old warrior, tempered by a calm visage, 
  and warm, antiquarian optics. Rust-and-bronze armor plate his form, the 
  colors accenting the long goatee and moustache of his gray faceplate, as 
  well. The darker markings of this faceplate bear a striking resemblance 
  to those that Muse wears--no doubt there is a connection between them, 
  somehow. The holographic Krank gives a silent smile, black optics 
  glittering warmly, and settles his frame into a crouch, as if peering at 
  something shorter than himself. His mouth works as he says some words of 
  encouragment, although the image is without audio capabilities. Whatever 
  he may be saying is apparently left up to the imagination of the viewer. 
Dice is grabbbling with the drone, "Keep away from that...we don't need two 
  of you around...". She huffs and releases the drone again. 
Muse observes the holographic junk for a moment, then looks to Perceptor, 
  to see if he catches her drift. 
Perceptor looks at Muse nebulously. 
Muse sighs slightly. She explains, her words coming out slowly. SHe's 
  obviously loathe to speak in such a manner. "...Can you project a 
  hologram of her--" She points towards the statue of (what looks like 
  )Elita One. 
Muse says, "...See what they do..." 
Dice stands up, "Try to get one up of her, yes...it seems terribly 
  interested in her.". 
Muse adds, "Operators are standing by,' just because she has to. 
Small Drone pauses in it's releasing of the second drone, as it turns 
  towards the computer, a picture of Optimus Prime on one of the smaller 
  screens. It floats towards it slowly, with an almost practiced ease. 
Perceptor nods his head. "Let me see if I can get the projectors working," 
  he says. "The complications with the computer console may hinder the 
  attempt, but I will do what I can." 
Dice looks, "HOLD IT...", she says 
Muse nods slightly, pressing the urgency with, "Offer expires while you 
  wait..." 
Dice points at the drone, "look at how it moves...LOOK at it. I've seen 
  that...Damned, I've SEEN that somewhere.". 
Muse chirps, suggesting, "...Quintessons?" 
Muse crouches down a bit, tilting her head to one side as she eyes the 
  anti-grav field. 
Perceptor cocks his head to the side as he watches the drone. "The pattern 
  of movement is unrecognizable to me, I am afraid." He turns around and 
  looks toward the screen closest to him. He taps away on the keypad, and 
  the images on that particular screen stop. 
Transmission from Scattershot: Where're you at? 
You transmit a message to Scattershot: We are trying to handle the 
  situation with these drones in the Autobot Headquarters Laboratory. Muse 
  and Dice are here providing assistance. 
Small Drone reaches up with one of it's arms, resting it on the screen shot 
  of Optimus Prime, shifted into a slight tilt with it's whole frame. 
Transmission from Scattershot: Uh-huh. Some Vilnacronian wants to talk to 
  the "Autobot scientific community". I'm bringin' him inside the base. 
Dice shakes her head, "No...Please, stop...it's not moving like a 
  droid...look it over again.". 
Dice groans, "I've only seens one creature do that to Prime, ever...But 
  she's dead, all we have is a statue of her, right here.". 
Muse shrugs slightly, explaining, "Junk droids all move differently, some 
  assembly required...actual sizes may vary." 
You transmit a message to Scattershot: Can you tell them to leave this 
  until a later point? ...this is kind of a situation here... 
Dice sighs, "I guess I was just hoping. I just meant that tilt and that way 
  it looks at Prime.". 
Transmission from Scattershot: *growling* Yeah, sure. He says it has 
  something to do with taking advantage of the weakened Con forces on 
  Cybertron. Primus knows we don't wanna do that. 
Muse eyes Dice, then mutters, "Return of the living Drone?" 
Dice throws up her arms, "So much for dreaming. Now to reality. We have a 
  drone that acts funny. That's all we know.". 
[15:19] Idle message sent to Soundwave. 
You transmit a message to Scattershot: That discussion will have to wait 
  until later, I am afraid. The situation here is not one from which I may 
  turn away just to mull over military planning. 
Dice says, "What do we do about it then?" 
Muse gives that some thought before she again approaches the drones, 
  peering at the one who is now looking at the image of Optimus. 
Perceptor takes a step toward the Junkion. He mutters to Muse, "... give 
  you data,... you... create... for... seems malfunctional,... obtain 
  profile..." 
Muse senses "Perceptor takes a step toward the Junkion. "If I give you 
  data, could you please create a hologram for me? The projection system 
  seems malfunctional, but I can still obtain profile information."" 
Dice looks like she'd like to know what's going on, but doesn't ask. 
Muse frowns slightly, glancing to Perceptor, and then to her staff. She 
  considers the problem for a moment before explaining, She mutters to 
  Perceptor, "I... really... This is... a holopic...but... can..." 
You sense Muse frowns slightly, glancing to Perceptor, and then to her 
  staff. She considers the problem for a moment before explaining, "I don't 
  really know holograms very well. This is just a holopic...but I can 
  try..." 
Transmission from Scattershot: "Just to mull over military planning," huh? 
  Some malfunctioning drone's more important than getting an advantage over 
  the cons? Fer bein' a genious, yer a frickin' idiot. 
Small Drone continues to rest it's arm on the image, and starts a scan 
  search again. 
Perceptor considers for another moment, then turns back to the console. 
  "It's alright, let me try another bypass of the wiring systems," he says. 
  Opening the panel beneach the console, Perceptor ducks his head inside 
  and begins to switch the locations of several wires and electric 
  switches. 
Muse watches the drone, and predicts, "...It's going to make a statue, 
  too." 
After several moments of Perceptor's fiddling, the projection system along 
  the wall suddenly light up, bathing the room in a bright white light. The 
  lights begins to bind together into an amorphous mass, which begins to 
  slowly take shape. 
Definition lookup in progress. 
Dice looks at you both, "I'm really sorry to ask you this, but would any of 
  you mind telling me what the plan is?". 
Muse says, "Plan? We no need no stinkin' plan." 
Dice says, "I can't do anything if I don't even know what you're going to 
  do." 
Muse gestures towards the forming image. "...Watch." 
Dice looks. 
Small Drone backs up, glancing around, and swivels towards Perceptor. 
The white lights in the center of the room coalesce into several blobules 
  of remotely familiar forms. They break off from each other and bend and 
  twist, becoming slihglty humanoid in their appearance. Colors slowly form 
  in the holographic images, and you see before you standard profile 
  depictions of Firestar, Chromia, Whiz, Moonracer, and several other 
  Femmes. Perceptor calls out simplely, "Drone..." and motions his right 
  arm toward the images. 
Dice looks intently at this, her optics opening wide inside her helmet. 
Small Drone swivels towards the images and moves forward. It stops, 
  studying them each in turn before taking a position to the left and to 
  the front of Chromia, in a commanders placement. 
On the table, the other drone sits quietly, observing the actions of the 
  upright drone. Its lights flicker slowly as its arms twitch in the 
  restraints. 
Perceptor points toward Chromia and says, "Chromia-One." 
Dice bangs a fist into her left hand, "I KNEW it...I SAID I'd seen that...I 
  TOLD you.". 
Muse chirps, moving towards the restrained drone. She asks, "...Can we let 
  him up?" 
Small Drone trembles and shakes, reaching out to tap twice on a console. 
Dice looks at the drone, "I think it's time we stopped calling her "drone", 
  you know...". 
Perceptor glances over toward Muse and nods his head. "Yes, you may." 
Muse reaches over, resting her staff in the crook of one arm as she hastily 
  undoes the bindings. 
Small Drone chirps, a high side, almsot like... laughter. 
Perceptor looks toward Muse and Dice, then asks, "Are both of you familiar 
  with what happened to the former commander of the Femmes?" 
Muse glances back towards Perceptor, but shakes her head. She crows, "I 
  ain't from arond these here parts." 
Dice shakes her head, "I just know she died. But we've seen the dead come 
  back before. Just look at Rodimus.". 
Muse shudders slightly, no doubt replaying scenes from various horror 
  movies. 
Dice slowly walks over to the drone and seems to whisper something to it. 
Perceptor steps toward the table, slowly unloosening the restraints holding 
  down the first drone. "Elita One was killed about about two terran years 
  ago in an incident involving heralds of Unicron. (Our security director, 
  Red Alert, was killed as well.) I think this one drone may have some sort 
  of connection to her ...perhaps, as you have proposed, working with the 
  Femmes in their base." 
Dice shakes her head, "I don't think so...why would it take up a position 
  of command, so to speak, standing where it does? Why would it move like 
  it did when it saw Optimus? I don't think it's that simple.". 
Muse hmphs. "Reincarnated, maybe? But that doesn't make any sense..." 
Dice shakes her head again, "Not reincarnated. Never really dead. It's her 
  in there, I'm certain of it. Somehow she was placed in a drone. Primus 
  knows why she's been dormant so long...Perceptor, that HAS to be 
  possible.": 
Perceptor looks toward the cutaway plating on the drone lying on the table. 
  His yellow optics flash brightly before he unstraps the last restraint 
  binding. Glancing quickly otward the upright drone, Perceptor quips, 
  "Look at that drone's internal plating covering. Does it have any signs 
  or markings around it that you can obverve?" 
Dice nodnods and looks at it. 
Muse hmphs slightly, and folds her arms, almost huffy. "That stuffs all 
  special effects. Dad said so." 
Dice looks at the drone again whispering some more to it. 
Perceptor speaks in a calm tone. "I have a hypothesis about what may have 
  occurred. Observation taken thus far of the drone we have had in our 
  possession have indicated an internal modiciation of sorts." 
Muse draws herself upright, optics swivelling towards Perceptor, alert. 
Small Drone opens up internal panels, and lowers first one... then a second 
  neural programming matrix that seem to be tied into each other. 
Perceptor begins to slowly walk toward the upright drone. He looks to it 
  and says, "Please allow us to examine you. I assure you that I will allow 
  no undue harm to come to you, but we need to view your internal systems." 
Dice looks at Perceptor, "Can I try...I'm a femme after all, if this is 
  her, I'd take it as a great honour.". 
Small Drone chirps as hatches and seals release with a gentle pressure of 
  steam, lowering down to expose delicate internals. 
Perceptor bends forward to look into the opening. His yellow optics flash 
  brightly as he exclaims, "Exactly like the other drone!" He points toward 
  the drone on the table. "Both drones seem to have an additional neural 
  net installed into each of them. The rest of their systems indicate that 
  these nets were not part of their original construction." 
Dice looks at the programming matrixes and hands them over to Perceptor. 
Dice looksINSIDE the drone then, now it's open. 
Muse crouches down again, grasping her staff in both hands. She is postured 
  a bit behind the others, though watching with the same curiosity. 
Perceptor peers at the matrices. "They appear to be heavily integrated as a 
  result of the drones' internal self-repair systems. I surmise that the 
  secondary cores were not originally installed, and were forced into the 
  drones through some unorthodox means. When the drones' repair systems 
  encountered the objects, they somehow wired the rset of the drones' 
  systems into it." 
Muse pauses, then glances to Perceptor. "...Back-ups of something, maybe?" 
Huh? (Type "help" for help.) 
Perceptor nods toward Muse. "That is what we originally considered 
  ...backup systems containing secondary information about the tasks set 
  forth for the individual drone to perform. However, analyses of other 
  drones in the surrounding area have resulted in absolutely no duplicate 
  occurances beyond these two." 
Muse gestures towards the secondary matrices. "...But what about -those-? 
  Could they be backups of the ex-big-Kahuna and ex-bride of ex-big-Kahuna? 
Dice looks at Perceptor, "Is it possible that this was done to only these 
  two, and then they were left to "blend in"." 
Dice says, "HEY, there is something here...Come here. A serial number. 
  Perceptor, can you look it up??? Hurry...this is maybe something.". 
Muse blinks, starting, and glances towards Dice. 
Dice says, "There is a serial number on some of this curcuitry, and it's 
  EXTREMELY old...older than any of us. I think this is Quint stuff.". 
Muse squints slightly, tensing at the mention of the Quintessons, and she 
  crouches back a bit. 
Dice reads out the serial number, "Can you check what this is?", she asks, 
  looking at Perceptor. 
Perceptor rushes over near Dice. "Can you read it, or is it too small?" he 
  asks. 
Dice reads it out, several times, "It's in there, really small, bit I have 
  it.", she says, looking there, "Damned, this is old stuff, this is NOT a 
  normal drone.". 
Dice cracks her knuckles, "I can get it out. No sweat. I can get this out 
  easily, so you can see it, and the drone won't be harmed.". 
Dice takes a few moments and then slowly puts her hand in there, gently 
  removing some small pieces of cuicuitry and a bit of internal armour. He 
  hands them over, "There you go, that's all there is.". 
Perceptor grabs the small pieces from Dice. He inspects them gently with 
  his optics, then holds his hand forward. His chestplate unfolds, and 
  Perceptor lays the pieces in its center. 
Perceptor's head is pulled within his frame as his chest plate folds down. 
  His light cannon moves into a central position atop his shoulders and 
  rotates to point slightly down. His hands retract into his forearms as 
  his arms rotate into place beside his main body. His legs twist oddly and 
  form a base stand. Instead of a 20-foot tall robot, you now see before 
  you a cube-shaped inspection unit about 6 feet in height. 
Muse creeps forward again, familiar with this, as she watches. 
Red Inspection Unit points a small light on the circuitry, then slowly 
  begins to scan them for anything it can detect. "I am not showing any 
  particular irregularies on a preliminary scan," Perceptor reports. "Let 
  me increase magnification and perform another sweep." 
Dice nods, "Look at the number. We've got to be able to make something of a 
  serial number.". 
Muse chirps, "But if it's not ours, then how?" 
Huh? (Type "help" for help.) 
Dice says, "I have no idea, but I think if my hopes are proven right, this 
  time as well, we'll learn soon enough." 
Dice crouches and looks, taking out another enerale and sipping it, 
  "Amazing...join the army they said, see the world they said. And what am 
  I given? A deserted planet, a cold lab and a Drone we can't get the hang 
  off. Someone sue the army.". 
Dice looks at you as you work, but doesn't speak up fearing to interrupt 
  something. 
Red Inspection Unit's lens barrel spins slightly, its lens adjusting for 
  higher magnification. It presses closes to the circuitry and continues 
  its scans, meticulously sweeping over the circuit pieces to determine the 
  serial number. 
Red Inspection Unit reports, "This is extremely old. I can barely make out 
  the exact digits ...increasing magnification further." 
Dice nods, not speaking up, but her by now crushed ener-ale can speaks 
  about her nerves in full. 
The lens on the inspection unit shifts again. "I do not recognize the 
  number offhand, but it is written in an older dialect--one which has not 
  been in use with drones or any other constructions for millenia." it 
  reports. 
The Red Inspection Unit suddenly jolts into motion as the sounds of whirrs 
  and clicks emanate from it. The base straightens and form into legs. 
  Along the sides, boxes turn and rotates as hands emerge, forming the 
  arms. The magnifying lens rotates to point forward. The sample plate 
  folds up, revealing a large Autobot insignia. At the same time, the head 
  of Perceptor appears next to the lens barrel. 
Dice nods, "I think it's safe to assume it wasn't in this drone from the 
  start, right?". 
Perceptor nods his head to Dice. "Indeed we may," he replies. He hands the 
  chips back to Dice. "Let me see if I can find anything in the computer 
  database about the numbers inscribed on e circuits. It should be okay to 
  replace them into the drone now." 
Perceptor turns around and takes a few casual steps toward the computer 
  console. He enters the serial number into the computer and begins a 
  search for any information within the databanks which may correlate to 
  the serial number. 
After several seconds, the computer completes its general search. It beeps 
  with a negative tone and emits, "No matches for query." 
Perceptor's optics flicker as he pauses in thought. "Perhaps I need to make 
  a more narrow search," he says. Facing the computer squarely, Perceptor 
  commands, "Computer, perform search of Autobot technical data 
  specifications, medical clearance alpha-76-delta-923478-A. Search for 
  previously-indicated data string." 
Dice puts them back inside the drone and looks over, waiting. "If this is 
  what I think it is, it will rock the entire army.". 
Computer responds: Restricted access to medical chief and command personnel 
  only. 
Perceptor frowns toward the computer. "I will need to wait until a person 
  with that level of authorization can be contact, unfortunately," he says. 
  "I unfortunately do not have the appropriate clearance to inspect the 
  resulting data. I wonder why that level of classification is required..." 
Dice nods, "Isn't there a back door, Perceptor? There is always a back door 
  and you're about the smartest there is with computers.". 
Small Drone swivels around, and beeps and chirps at the computer. Suddenly 
  the computer responds through the link, "Access granted, Elita One." 
Perceptor enunciates, "I have a particular aversion to hacking through our 
  own commanding officers' classified files, though. It would not be a 
  responsible use of my abilities. Perhaps I may contact someone on Ear..." 
Perceptor stops as the drone pushes him aside. His optics flash in surprise 
  as he turns to look at the drone. The red frame of the Autobot scientist 
  stands motionless as he stares at the drone. 
Dice looks at the computer, "I TOLD you so...I SAID it, I SAID it...", she 
  says, almost jumping up and down. "I KNEW it was her...". 
Computer scrolls through the database continues to scan, finally coming to 
  rest, "Serial number match found. Designate Autobot Female Commander, 
  Elita One. Deceased." 
Dice looks at the drone, "Commander, Primus knows this is the greatest 
  honour in all my life.", she sighs. 
Perceptor quietly whispers, "Elita One?" 
Dice kneels, "I knew it. Why won't anyone ever -believe- my hunches. I said 
  it about Rodimus, I said it about Elita and I was right both times and 
  noone EVER believes me.". 
Dice bows her head, admittedly, with that helmet and kneeling, she does 
  look a lot like a femme knight. 
That player is not connected. 
Small Drone swivels around towards the other drone, gesturing at it. 
Dice looks at Perceptor, "Who died with her, what was the name again? look 
  for the same numbers in that one, I'll take a look at Elita.". 
Perceptor quickly spins around and rushes to the far wall. He throws open 
  the doors to one of the cabinets and begins diving through several 
  contraptions on the shelves. Several old and broken devices slam to the 
  floor, sounding like tens of pots and pans banging around loudly. 
Dice says, "Please sir, I BEG a favour of you. Let me be the one to send 
  the message of this around, PLEASE. As a femme, that would be a great 
  honour to me."." 
Perceptor continues fishing through the cabinet. "Red Alert was the Autobot 
  security director at the time. He was killed along with her by the 
  heralds ...AHA! Found it!" 
Dice nods, "He's the one in the other drone, I'm willing to bet you on. 
Perceptor pulls his hands from the cabinet. Within his hands are two small 
  box-shaped devices. Nodding his head toward Dice, he says, "I agree. Go 
  ahead and release the restraints, I will see if I can get these devices 
  connected to their matrix cores." 
Dice nods, "I'll do that. Will you allow me the honours, though?", she says 
  and opens the restraints, looking at the other drone, "Primus, I'm sorry 
  this happened, Red...", she says and lets the drone fre. 
Perceptor sets one of the strange-looking boxes on the counter. He motions 
  the first drone over. Holding two small wires from the box, he says, 
  "These devices are used when we have seriously damaged Autobots who are 
  unable to make use of their vocal units. These can connect directly to 
  their program matrices and will allow them a rudimentary means of 
  communication." 
Dice nodnods, "Please get it on them. We need to hear what's up.". 
Perceptor holds the connectors from one device into the air as he waits for 
  the first drone to move toward him. 
Small Drone hovers towards Perceptor, chirpping somewhat. 
Dice moves over so any of them can get there. 
Silverfang enters from the Central Hallway West to the south. 
Perceptor slowly pulls open the panel to the drone's programming. Reaching 
  inside with the connectors, he clips them around two small protrusions on 
  the matrix inside. The lights on the device begin to flicker and sparkle. 
  Perceptor smiles and turns around to check the device. "Elita One," he 
  says calmly, "If that is you, please try to speak. The communicator will 
  assimilate your stored speech patterns." 
Silverfang pauses as he enters the room. 
Silverfang looks mildly taken aback, "Elita?" 
Small Drone takes a couple of moments as it assesses the device, then 
  addresses in a decidedly feminine voice, "That is correct, Silverfang... 
  as the case may be." she finishes, "Perceptor, where am I?" 
Dice nods, "That's her...". 
Dice drops to one knee again, "Why don't anyone ever believe me?", she 
  mutters, "Even when I'm right, I KNEW it was her...after that thing with 
  the optimus hologram it could only BE her.". 
Perceptor nearly jumps at the voice. "Thank Primus it is you!" he exclaims 
  excitedly. "We are in Autobot Headquarters on Cybertron." he says 
  quietly. He motions the other drone over, optimistic about the second 
  drone. 
Rising from the table, the second drone calmly glides through the air 
  toward the counter. As it nears Perceptor, its access panel unlatches and 
  falls to the ground. One of the drones arms moves slowly through the air 
  and points toward the hatch. 
Silverfang says, "Perceptor, what is going on?" 
Silverfang says, "Drones impersonating dead autobots?" 
Dice seems to positively BEAM inside her helmet, "This is almost too good 
  to be true. Perceptor, I'll go and report on this right away, Elita can 
  fill in the rest herself. Is that okay with you?". 
Small Drone emits, "Dice, please, stop kneeling. How did I end up in here? 
  Last I remeber was a blinding flash as Coil... oh Primus." the voice 
  halts uncertainley, "Red Alert... where?" 
Perceptor smiles widely toward Silverfang. "I think the situation is much 
  better than at, Silverfang. I'll explain in detail onceI am able to 
  determine if this is fully correct..." 
Dice stands up, "Yes commander. As you wish.", she says, bowing her head a 
  bit and then looking back up. She looks at silverfang, "No impersonation, 
  the systems inside had their serial numbers on it. Perceptor found it on 
  the computer.". 
Dice nods once, "Perceptor, I'll get right to work.". 
Dice leaves to the Central Hallway West to the south. 
Silverfang nods but looks fairly dubious. 
Transmission from Dice: This is something I think the femmes should be 
  allowed if you don't object. I'll just include the basics. 
Perceptor leans toward the second drone, holding his arms forward with the 
  connectors to the second vocalization unit. He connects the wires firmly 
  to the exposed matrix of the second drone. After the lights on the 
  vocalizer light up, Perceptor says, "If our logic is correct ...Red 
  Alert, is that you?" 
Silverfang says, "Uh...do you think that was a good idea? For all we know 
  all we have is a couple of confused drones. Dice announcing it could 
  cause problems." 
Perceptor nods his head toward Dice. "I understand fully, Dice. Proceed." 
Perceptor smiles reassuringly toward Silverfang. "Wait until you read the 
  report. The day has been full of some ...impressive incidents." 
Silverfang shrugs slightly and glances over at the second drone. 
The lights on the second drone begin to flicker. "Your assumption is 
  correct, Perceptor. Elita? Is that you?" comes the voice. "What happened? 
  The Heralds had us surrounded..." 
Silverfang hrms, "Doesn't look like....." His voice trails off, "Red 
  Alert?" 
Small Drone says, "Yes, Red Alert... you fell.. I can only assume we 
  both... perished, and somehow came back. But where are we currently 
  located, though?" 
Name set. 
Laboratory(#776 RntN) 
You find yourself in a high-ceilinged room, its temperature noticably 
  colder than in the corridor. Thousands of cybernetic, chemical, and 
  organic samples are lined up in an orderly fashion on large wall shelves. 
  Some of them are perhaps the source of the faintly unpleasant fumes 
  here... This is also where the Autobots carry out the majority of their 
  computer-related tasks. Several large, sophisticated computers hum, 
  whirr, and clack away upon stands lining the walls. 
Contents: 
Silverfang(#3400 PierAcmF) 
Sculpture(#4757 On) 
Small Drone <Elita One>(#6391 iOp+) 
Small Drone(#4546 iOp+) 
Obvious exits: 
South <S> leads to Central Hallway West. 
Name set. 
Silverfang says, "If this is Red Alert and Elita One how the heck did they 
  survive the heralds? Or more to the point how'd they get in these 
  drones?" 
Small Drone <Red Alert> says, "I don't understand what happened ...things 
  seemed unclear, almost like a state of limbo." 
Small Drone <Elita One> bobs in agreement, "I saw Neurious raise his 
  rifle... then darkness. I awoke in unfamiliar surroundings, and wanted to 
  build..." 
Perceptor stands in amazement, watching the drones. The wide smile affixed 
  to his face remains as he replies to Silverfang, "Detailed scans of the 
  exteriors of the drones reveals signs of a struggle. There were several 
  indentations on the armor plating which indicated the panels had been 
  forced open. Judging by the placement of the internal systems, I conclude 
  that the internal systems of the drone were able to incorporate the 
  additional circuitry into their own ...which present us with another 
  problem..." 
Small Drone <Elita One> bobs, "How to seperate us." 
Dice enters from the Central Hallway West to the south. 
Small Drone <Red Alert> whirrs and clicks several times. "I need to get out 
  of here ...if I was so easily able to break into the security systems as 
  a drone, who knows how out of shape it has gotten. Hasn't Caern been 
  doing his duties?" 
Silverfang shifts and looks uncomfortable, "Caern was deactivated." 
Huh? (Type "help" for help.) 
Perceptor nods his head toward the Elita-drone. "That is correct... your 
  matrix cores have been intricately woven into the internal architecture 
  of the drones. In order to remove them, some very delicate and intricate 
  surgury will need to be done." 
Perceptor's optics seem to dim as he looks toward the Red Alert-drone. 
  "Yes, Caern was involved with an ...accident. His core is being sustained 
  in stasis. We only need to rebuild a body for him as well..." 
Small Drone <Red Alert> asks inquisitively, "So who has been handling our 
  security matters?" 
Small Drone <Elita One> ponders this for a moment, "Current status on 
  Chromia and Whiz? Tey should be able to assist you in anyway possible in 
  this matter." 
Dice says, "Chromia and Whiz are both on earth, fighting for their 
  lives..." 
Dice wringes her hands, "I'd kill to get down there...". 
Silverfang eyes Dice, "Earth was a pretty lethal place up until recently 
  Dice." 
Dice shakes her head, "I don't care, Silverfang. People are dying down 
  there, and I can't do anything while being trapped up here. I want to 
  -help-.". 
Small Drone <Elita One> says, "Fighting for their lives? What has occured 
  on Earth to bring about this situation?"" 
Perceptor enunciates, "I will attempt to gather as many materials as needed 
  in order to begin constructing replacement bodies. It may be some time, 
  but I will alert Autobots within the base as to the current situation." 
Dice sighs, "The cons are in almost total control...". 
Dice sighs, "Primus, it's so good to see you again, Elita...if you even 
  remember me.", she smiles. 
Silverfang glances over at Perceptor, "I'm not sure if this'd work 
  Perceptor but I just went over some of the old records in the storage 
  area digging for some components and their are a couple of endoframes in 
  there. I'm not an expert and they wouldn't be able to transform for a 
  whiel but couldn't we transfer their neural cores into those frames for 
  the time being?" 
Small Drone <Elita One> says, "What about our former bodies? Were they 
  returned to normal before being interned?" 
Dice says, "As far as I know, commander, they were destroyed."." 
Perceptor glances over toward Silverfang. "That would be much more amicable 
  than using these drones' frames. I can direct the storage personnel to 
  locate and deliver the frames. Red Alert, Elita One--I'll try to devote 
  as many of our resources as we can to getting you back up to shape." 
Silverfang says, "No, they were restored and interned." 
Silverfang says, "I suppose we could salvage some components from the 
  bodies as distasteful as that sounds." 
Small Drone <Elita One> says, "It is understandable, Silverfang. We have 
  had done it ourselves many a time before." 
Small Drone <Red Alert> bobs slightly. "Thank you, Perceptor. Get Caern 
  rebuilt too ...I am notoing to be able to get the security division back 
  into order by myself." 
Silverfang glances over at Perceptor, "I suppose I could...uh....get the 
  bodies." 
Dice looks around, "Erh...Sorry to ask, really, but what do we really need 
  to do to get started on a rebuild?". 
Perceptor nods his head toward Silverfang. "Yes, please do," he says. 
  Perceptor then turns toward the monitor screens and begins to pull up 
  monitor signals for the two drones. 
Silverfang gestures, "Come on Dice. I'll need help. Grab that hover 
  gurney." 
Perceptor glances from the console toward Dice. "We need to construct the 
  bodies for them first ...and make sure that they are in perfect working 
  order. That will be quite a task in its own, but after that, we still 
  have to carefully transport the neural net from the drones' housings into 
  the new bodies. That will be a very tedious and dangerous process, so it 
  would be best if we not worry about it until the time comes." 
Silverfang says, "Er...then again. Maybe you should stay with Perceptor and 
  help him get set here." 
Silverfang says, "I'll be back soon." 
Dice grins to Silverfang, "Let me take one, you can take the other...", she 
  smiles, but still takes it. 
Silverfang steps behind a hover gurney and heads out the door. 
Dice follows, "I'm absolutely useless in a medbay, normally, I'll come 
  along.". 
Silverfang leaves to the Central Hallway West to the south. 
Dice leaves to the Central Hallway West to the south. 
Nothing found. 
Transmission from Silverfang: Silverfang to Perceptor. 
You transmit a message to Silverfang: Perceptor here, Silverfang. Have you 
  located the bodies? 
Transmission from Silverfang: Negative. Red Alert and Elita One's repaired 
  chassis were relocated to Earth. 
You transmit a message to Silverfang: I see ...I will make note of that on 
  my report in addition ot request that their bodies be brought here to 
  Cybertron. 
Transmission from Silverfang: Will the Endo-skeletons from storage be 
  satisfactory for now? 
Dice enters from the Central Hallway West to the south. 
Small Drone <Elita One> says, "Has something gone amiss, Perceptor?" 
You transmit a message to Silverfang: Yes, they should. They will be much 
  better than the drone casings. At least the endoskeletons will allow a 
  more familiar range of movement. 
Dice comes back in again, looking like someone whacked her over the head 
  with something big and heavy...she's not looking like she can compute at 
  all, at least. She seems totally confused. 
Transmission from Silverfang: Dice will be returning to Lab. I'll try and 
  get the endoskeletons." 
You transmit a message to Silverfang: Acknowledged. Dice just arrived... 
Perceptor looks toward Dice from his seat at the computer. "Is something 
  wrong, Dice?" 
Dice looks back up, speaking with a slurr and seems way too confused to 
  string together proper sentences, speaking a lot like a Dinobot, "Why him 
  Silverfang run off, when we get her Elita-one and him Red Alert from 
  crypt? Me no understand.", she says, looking down. Doh...don't confuse 
  her, she's simple and actually quite dumb normally...she just have a lot 
  of bright moments. 
Perceptor cocks his head to the side as he looks at Dice with confusion. 
Silverfang enters from the Central Hallway West to the south. 
Silverfang steps into the room shoving an anti-grav table. 
Silverfang drops Silver-gray endoskeleton. 
Silverfang drops Blue-gray endoskeleton. 
Dice would be smoking from her ears if she had any. She's counting on her 
  fingers and looks really, really confused. 
Silverfang pushes the unit over towards the table, "Here they are 
  Perceptor." 
Perceptor nods toward Silverfang as he finishes his report. "Thank you, 
  Silverfang." 
Dice shakes her head a little, muttering to herself in that slurred voice, 
  seemingly trying to find out what was going on. 
---------------------LOG ENDS - STATISTICS----------------