Log edited with Logedit 2.6.9pl on Tue Dec  9 13:16:29 EST 1997

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Ark -- Bridge(#67 RntN) 
Once, long ago, this was the bridge of a starship. Bridge controls that 
  once steered this mighty vessel across star systems now lie dead and 
  cannibalized. Bridge viewers that once showed whole galaxies now reveal 
  only a wall of solid rock. Stalagmites protrude from holes in the metal 
  ceiling. This ship will fly no more. Formerly this was the headquarters 
  of Optimus Prime and his legion of Autobots on Earth. But, as time 
  passed, more Autobots came from Cybertron to Earth and a bigger command 
  center was built: Autobot City. Now, only a few older Autobots come here, 
  mostly out of nostalgia. Where Teletran One once was is a ripped out 
  section of wall. 

You transmit a message to Mini-Omega: Salutations, Omega Supreme. May I 
  implore you to submit to a thorough medical evaluation? I have not had a 
  chance to closely examine what has happened to your systems so that this 
  ...change... came about. If the predicament is to be fixed, I need to 
  have an understanding of its causation. 
Transmission from Mini-Omega: Of course, Perceptor. I will meet you at the 
  Ark. 
You transmit a message to Mini-Omega: Acknowledged, Omega. I will begin the 
  initialization and setup of the equipment available to me here in the 
  Ark. Please let me know when you have arrived. 
Transmission from Mischief: Mischief giggles, then thbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbts 
  into the radio. "Spoil sport." 
You transmit a message to Mischief: Hello there, Mischief. May I presume 
  that you are in the company of Omega Supreme at the moment? If so, I 
  would like to have you present during this examination of him. I will 
  need to to explain anything you can about what has happened to him. 
Small Drone <Elita One> blinks and flickers to life with all the radio 
  traffice. 
Transmission from Mischief: *sounds of rushing air as they fly along* I'm 
  coming, I'm coming.... 
Small Drone <Elita One> swivels around, "Perceptor. Good day. Is there 
  anything occuring of note?" 
Perceptor looks over his shoulder toward Elita. He smiles and says calmly, 
  "Good day to you as well, Elita." Nodding his head, Perceptor says, "I am 
  going to perform an analytical scan of Omega Supreme in order to discern 
  whether or not I will be able to return him to his original size." 
Mini-Omega walks in from the cavern. 
Mischief walks in from the cavern. 
Mischief flits in chasing Omega. 
Mischief sets down sulkily on a nearby crate top to watch over Omega and 
  Perceptor. 
Omega Supreme states, "Greetings, Perceptor." 
Small Drone <Elita One> says, "Understood, Perceptor. Is there anything new 
  on what may have caused this size reduction?" 
Mischief giggles. "A great weight loss plan?" 
Perceptor smirks toward Mischief. "Greetings, Omega Supreme and Mischief. 
  Thank you for coming," he says. The scientist rises from his seat near 
  the console and murmer toward Elita. "I have my suspicions..." 
Mischief bounds off the top of the crate, recovering her humor quickly as 
  she does a somersault, landing on top of a med table with a visual, 
  'ta-da', then grins at Perceptor and the lil drone dudette. 
Small Drone <Elita One> worbbles slightly in agreement. 
Perceptor walks over toward one of the medical table. "This equipment is 
  the best that I can do considering what is available. Most of our quality 
  equipment is on Cybertron ...which makes it quite inaccessable at the 
  moment," he says. "Omega, please lie down here and I will begin the 
  scans." 
Mischief quips, "Sit, Ubu, sit. Good dog." 
Perceptor glances over toward Mischief, a faint smile on his face in 
  response to her wide grin. "Mischief," he asks, "can you please explain 
  to me exactly what happened to you earlier mentioned you made 'big things 
  small?'" 
Mini-Omega moves to the table, and sits on it. He then reclines to a lying 
  position. 
Mini-Omega powers up his main system taking in all around him. 
Jazz walks slowly in, scanning a datapad quietly, not wanting to disturb 
  the injured/medics. 
Mischief hehehehees, sitting down near Omega's head, slumping down into a 
  cross-legged configuration while she deposits her elbows on her knees. As 
  she settles in to watch, her chin tucks itself into her hands and her 
  tiny optics glow out at the world with a mixture of mischief and... 
  worry? 
Mischief quirks a look across Omega towards Perceptor, then giggles again. 
  "Do you really want to know? What if I don't want ta tell ya?" 
Small Drone <Elita One> says, "Mischief, Omega Supreme could possibly be 
  harmed or destroyed in this mode. Do you want that to occur?" 
Mischief grumps, thbbbbbbbbting over at the annoyingly reasonable drone. 
  "Nononono... He'll be okay.. I'll look out for him... besides, not like 
  any of you bot bots ever come visit him or see how he's doing or fix him 
  when he gets done bailing yer afts out of trouble," she says quietly, all 
  kidding gone from her voice for the moment. 
Perceptor nods his head toward Mischief. "Yes, I do want to know," he 
  replies. "It is imperative that I have this knowledge if any attempts to 
  make repairs to him are to be attempted. The current state of Omega has 
  implications not just for Omega Supreme, but also those over whom he 
  watches." 
Jazz notes the people gathered, but doesn't initially pay much attention to 
  the Drone. As it speaks, however, he looks at it, almost dropping his 
  datapad. 
Small Drone <Elita One> swivels around, and floats towards Mischief. "What 
  if the day comes when you loose your ability to watch. As much as the 
  femmes have watched out for Omega Supreme, it has been mutual, as he has 
  watched for us. His enemies are ours, such as the Constructicons, who in 
  his current size, he could not defend against if discovered." 
Mischief sighs unhappily, grumping again as she ponders throwing a piece of 
  scrap at the drone, then finally nodnods. "Well.... I just wanted him to 
  be small for a little while anyway...." 
Mini-Omega flinches at the mention of the Constructicons. 
Looking toward the small array of monitors on the left side of the table, 
  Perceptor leans over and activates the scanning equipment. A low hum 
  fills the room as the systems come online. He reveals a small tray of 
  tools on the other side of the table, and lifts each of the tools to 
  place them alongside Omega Supreme. 
Small Drone <Elita One> says, "Has this not been long enough, Mischief?" 
Mischief shakes her head. "No, there's still so much to do and so much to 
  see! We haven't even gone to Cybertron yet!" 
Perceptor enunciates, "It would not be prudent for Omega Supreme to roam 
  Cybertron in hus current condition. It would place him at extreme risk of 
  further injury from individual who may be seeking to settle disputes with 
  him in his currently weakened state." 
Mischief says, "Well, then we'll hide or something!" 
Small Drone <Elita One> says, "And how long do you believe that will be 
  able to have effictivness, Mischief?" 
Mischief shrugs. "I dunno, long enough," she returns glumly, then peers at 
  Perceptor. "Sooooooooo, what do ya need to know?" 
Perceptor replies flatly, "Anything you can tell me about the cause of this 
  current predicament would be greatly appreciated." 
Mischief reaches over and taps a small part of Omega's midsection. "Look in 
  there. Seek and ye shall find." 
Perceptor nods his head toward Mischief as he picks two tools from the 
  tabletop. Unfastening the coverplate to Omega Supreme's internal 
  circuitry, he meticulously takes care not to risk further injury to the 
  shurken guardian. Perceptor removes the plate and gently sets it on the 
  counter. 
Perceptor stares curiously at the circuitry. His yellow optics flicker as 
  he says, "I cannot easily make out what has happened here..." 
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. 
Red Inspection Unit swivels its lens over the midsection of Omega Supreme. 
  Stopping over the exposed circuitry, the end of the lens rotates as the 
  magnification is adjusted. "Your circuitry appears to have been fused 
  together for some reason," reports Perceptor. "Something does not look 
  correct..." 
Mischief leans over again, peering thoughtfully into Omega's innards (ewww 
  gross!). She refrains from pointing out details she's gotten from all the 
  daily scans she's been doing of Omega, not quite knowing what to make out 
  of the deteriorating readings herself. 
Mischief hrms, asking quietly, "Well, uh... do you think you can fix him?" 
Red Inspection Unit halts in its scna. "Any idea what could have caused 
  your internal circuits to fuse together in this manner, Omega? Have you 
  had any work done on you recently?" 
Mischief ponders making a break for it. 
Red Inspection Unit adjusts its magnification again. "The internal circuits 
  have been fused together ...the scorch pattern indicates a power 
  overload. I do not understand how that could have ...wait a moment..." 
Mischief again ponders making a break for it. 
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. 
Perceptor rushes over toward the computer console. He rapidly types on the 
  keyboard as a technical schematic diagram of Omega Supreme appears on the 
  screen. His yellow optics flicker wildly as he scans through the 
  information displayed. 
Mischief whoas, rocking back on her aft a bit as Perceptor actually *runs* 
  some where. "Uh.... Wrot wro, Wraggy?" 
Perceptor glances back toward Omega Supreme. Looking again toward the 
  screen, Perceptor says, "There is certainly something wrong, but it is 
  not a result of Omega Supreme's circuitry. The problem lies in the fact 
  that the fused circuit does not actually belong to him," he says. 
  Pointing toward the screen, Perceptor says, "See, this is a schematic 
  diagram of Omega's construction." 
Mischief glances over, nodnodding thoughtfully to herself. "And a fine 
  design it is. Sooooooo, what are you trying to say? Out with it, come on, 
  spit it out, man!" 
Perceptor turns from the screen and rushes over to Omega's side. Pointing 
  into the open circuit housing, he says, "THAT is not Omega's 
  transformation circuit." 
Omega Supreme states, "Foreign circuitry?" 
Mischief can't help but laugh as Perceptor runs around back and forth 
  between the computer and their table. 
Perceptor nods toward Omega Supreme. "Your transformation circuit is not 
  the one which is normally used by your subsystems. I surmise that this 
  circuit, however it came to be here ..." Perceptor pauses and glances 
  toward Mischief before continuing, "...it could probably not handle the 
  significant amount of subspace shifting required when you transform from 
  one mode to another." 
Mischief giggles. She mutters to herself, "... big is small,..." 
Omega Supreme states, "Can the circuit be removed?" 
Perceptor shakes his head from side to side. "No, I am afraid not. It has 
  been fused into your circuitry. I will have to research what could be 
  entailed in an operation to remove it. A replacement chip will need to be 
  found as soon as possible. As this is not your chip however, I am 
  cursious to know where the original may be found." 
Omega Supreme states, "As am I." 
Mischief coughs faintly, then looks away, whistling a little bit to herself 
  while she listens to the exchange. 
Perceptor slowly glances to the side. "Mischef?" 
Mischief blinks, then looks up again. "Yes?" 
Perceptor asks, "Do you have any information relevant to this situation?" 
Mischief tunes her internal radio. "Uh.. the Cubs are up by three in the 
  bottom of the 7th?" 
Mischief hrms, taking the returned expression as a 'no'. "Uh.. well, maybe 
  someone really small, swapped pieces parts with him, just to see what 
  would happen, you know, kinda like a science experiment, not that I would 
  know anyone like that or anything..." 
Perceptor's optics flash brightly. "Mischief, do not transform," he says 
  sterly. 
Mini-Omega turns to face Mischief, not saying anything. 
Mischief freezes a moment, feeling the nearly overwhelming urge to 
  transform just cause she's been told not to. "UH..... why not?" 
Mischief twitches, just itching to try to transform to see what happens, 
  then asks again, "Why not?" 
Perceptor, without a hint of a smile, replies to Mischief, "My observations 
  leads me to conclude with high probabiliy that you were the one who 
  somehow switched chips with him. If this is true, and you are currently 
  using his transformation chip, that chip could send a tremendous overload 
  of power through your systems if you were to attempt a transformation. 
  Your circuits housings would overload and cause you very severe damage." 
Mischief hrms, blinking at the long thought, then translates, "Bad things, 
  man?" 
Perceptor nods toward Mischief. "Very bad." 
Mischief wonders idly what those bad things might be and just how bad they 
  could be. 
Perceptor points toward Omega Supreme. "When Omega tried to transform, he 
  overloaded just the chip. If you were to attempt a transformation, your 
  entire internal substructer would overload from the power produced only 
  by that chip within you." 
Mischief stands up on the medical table, then shrugs. "Soo, then we just 
  swap him back his old chip and everyone's happy, right?" 
Perceptor enunciates, "I wish it were that easy, but the damage cuased by 
  the fusing of the smaller chip needs to be repaired. I will have to 
  further review his system architecture in order to make the process 
  succeed."" 
Mischief hrms, pacing back and forth across the table, pondering again, 
  sharing information about his radically changing energy pattern readings 
  she's been monitoring. "Well, can't be too hard, right? I mean, if I can 
  do it, surely you can undo it..." she says lightly. 
Perceptor walks over toward the table, picking up the covering for Omega 
  Supreme. He grabs two of the tools and begins to affix the cover back to 
  Omega. Pausing to give Mischief a stare, he then says, "I hope so." 
Perceptor seals the covering into place. "You should be fine for the time 
  being, Omega. I will attempt to discover exactly what needs to be done 
  and then I will evluate if the appropraite materials are available here 
  on Earth." 
Bumblebee reactivates after a sleep cycle 
Mini-Omega powers down to his defense base form. 

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