17:12 26 December 2552 Alliance Military Time

Within the Stellae Cimeterium

Goldbug bumped and squeezed his way through the narrow halls, cramming himself into an elevator before finally emerging out into the massive transport bay.

Bulkhead was giving instructions to the diminutive Scrap while Anomaly stood to the side, tapping rapidly into a datapad. Cables ran from the pad to the large device that had been assembled in the centre of the bay. At least twice as tall as Bulkhead, the device had a wide middle that contained a mass of incomprehensible electronics with a long, pointed antennae extending upwards to nearly scrape the ceiling. Scrap was scurrying in and out of the thing carrying pieces and wires and tools at comical speed.

Goldbug increased his speed and intentionally raised the volume of his movements. "It's not done yet!? What have you mudflaps been doing!? We have to launch in under a breem!"

Bulkhead jumped and spun on one foot to salute, but in doing so smacked Scrap with enough force to send her bouncing across the hold and he ended up falling on his rear. He still managed to complete the salute which was an improvement from how he'd started. "Goldbug, sir! We've just got a few last moment touches and it'll be ready to go!"

Scrap had lapsed into junkian and was ranting about "funk monsters" and "fancy barbecues" while slamming the last few pieces into place and securing the last panel. Anomaly tapped three more buttons and turned his head to Goldbug, his optics wide and unblinking, and carefully nodded once.

"Oh, uh, looks like we're done?" Bulkhead said, picking himself off the floor and shrugged, grinning sheepishly.

"Oh, looks like!? With expertise like that I expect you malfunctions'll have us all reduced to atoms and blasted into subspace by the end of the meg-sol! I don't want guesses, I want certainty! Have you rust-piles managed to do the one job you were put on this ship to do, or do we throw you out the hatch now and get an arachnosaur to replace you!?"

Bulkhead shrunk down, which still made him twice as tall as Goldbug himself. "Uh, my team have completed the preparations to the beacon, sir!" This time when he saluted his servo caught in the cables and pulled Anomaly right off his feet.

Goldbug suppressed the urge to face-palm. "Alright, get your skidplates out of here!" Anomaly strode mechanically out of the hold while Scrap scrambled along beside him. Shaking his head, he activated his comlink. "Goldbug to bridge, we're good to go!"

"Bridge here," the Ginrai responded "We're opening the door."

And warning lights began to flash, as his sensors registered the change in pressure and atmosphere. Finally the massive cargo hatch opened and he and Bulkhead each grabbed onto one side of the beacon and carefully guided it out.

They took it out a little under a klik from the ship before stopping. Goldbug nodded to bulkhead who began the activation sequence.

"Aaannd... we've got it! Get on back home!" Ginrai's voice rang out clear and loud in the black.

Goldbug turned but noticed the beacon begin to shift, Bulkhead was trying to pull his servo away from the control point with no success. Finally with a large jerk he pulled free, only to raise his arm revealing one less digit than usual.

Goldbug spent a moment swearing profusely into the silent void before leading his clumsy compatriot back to the ship.

This was his own fault. He'd been fine were he was, at the Cybertron Security training centre. Fresh protoforms would come in still dripping and they'd leave built out of solid cybernite! He taught them to fight and how to survive. It was what he knew. But then he'd received a message. It was from one of the only old friends he had left and he didn't have it in him to turn her down.

So now he was chief of operations over a crew of inexperienced malfunctions. It wasn't how he'd planned to spend his years at all.

"Honestly this is why I said there should've been a medic on the team!" Ambulon was ranting to the whole medbay while furiously reorganising the supplies for what must have been the third time that sol. "I told you it was unreasonable to have a team out there without one! But no, I was ignored!"

"Make sure all the connections are stable before you move on to the casing." Lifeline was walking medic-in-training CatSCAN through reattaching Bulkhead's finger. "And keep the welder perpendicular, to give yourself area to move in."

The trainee was laser focused on the task while Ambulon continued his rampage through draws and cupboards. "You trust him on a mission and look what happens! But not me, no! I've just been doing this for a hecto-cycle before he was even forged! Not that that experience should mean anything! I guess we just charge directly into whatever situation comes our way with no preparation and no thought to the potential consequences!"

"Your opinion has already been noted, doctor." Four sols sharing a ship with the uptight medical officer had pushed Goldbug near to breaking. No wonder that, despite his long record and admittedly gifted medical mind, he was stuck on such a no consequence mission with the rest of them. "It's a finger. There was no real danger and no reason to drag more personnel off the ship."

"This time it was a finger! But if his whole arm had dislodged he may have torn an energon-tube and bled out while you were too busy with that gizmo to even notice!"

"Sir, I'm sure the chief knows the risks. The whole operation took two minutes, even if something had happened there was plenty of time to get one of you out there." Mavuto Steen was sitting at a desk in a small alcove set aside for his work. Alliance ships were required to have a minimum amount of the crew be cybertronian and human so having a human medic was a necessity, even if just because of the size difference.

"Your opinion is irrelevant here! And you!" Ambulon wheeled back to Goldbug. "You better take my recommendations more seriously in future if you don't want me going straight to the captain about your attitude!"

"I sincerely doubt she would agree that my attitude is the problem!"

"Speaking of the captain," Second-in-command Banagher Fairborne was standing at the hatchway. "She'd like a report on the mission." He gave Goldbug a pointed look, who sighed and moved to follow him from the room.

Lifeline looked at Ambulon still standing there, his gears whirring with irritation. "Sir? Would you like to check his work?" She gestured to the fresh weld on Bulkhead's finger.

Grumbling, he shuffled over, leaned in and, after a moment stood again. "Good job." he muttered, and made his way back to the supplies.

"Yeah, good job kid!" Bulkhead slammed his repaired servo down on the small bot's shoulder, causing his knees to buckle.

"Thanks!" He mumbled, smiling sheepishly.

"With that I declare the mission over." Arcee was nursing an E-caf while listening to Goldbug's report.

"I'm not happy with the chief medic. He explodes over everything! He has no idea how to deal with bots civilly!" There was a chuckle from the helm. "Is there something funny I should know, steering wheel!?"

"No, sir!" Naviko responded with exactly as much sarcasm as she felt she could get away with.

"He is definitely a little rough around the edges," Arcee drew his attention back. "But he knows what he's doing! I think in a little time he'll adjust to us, and vice-versa. We all just need to bend a little."

"We're supposed to be running a ship, not a camping trip!"

"You know how people are, sometimes the past can get its claws in and be hard to dislodge." She fixed him with a hard look. "The important thing is we make sure to understand where he's coming from. I will talk to him, but I just want you to try."

"Captain, sir?" Ginrai turned to face them. "Message from command! We have a rendezvous!"