[(Accidental) Video] :: Location - Vector Prime's Temple

[kick_astromech]

[The image that's transmitted fades in and out at first, interrupted by lines of static. Something vaguely seems to be moving just in front of whatever the video source is, but it's extremely blurry as though the feed receiver itself is out of focus. It isn't long before that starts to adjust, and soon enough one can see the looming face of the Acolyte.

There's an electronic squawk in surprise, and the screen shifts, just as some sort of thin metal arm with a slightly pointed tip pops out from somewhere around the camera source. Electricity sparks from its tip as its jabbed towards the Acolyte's face, sending the large figure reeling back, more out of shock than actual harm.

Amidst a flurry of confused and slightly indignant beeps and twittering, the transmitted image continues to move, shifting to a more upright position before moving forward.

There's a simulated scream as whoever it is seems to find out the hard way that it's been placed on some sort of pedestal. Which is pre-tty high up.

It's a lovely first-person view of the ground coming to meet you, and a metallic, somewhat hollow sounding thud follows once the ground is hit, effectively blacking out the screen. Apparently it's still on though, a faint warble sounding, as well as the footfalls of the Acolyte's approach. Aaaand cut.]

Comments

[skidaddle]

Look, you're going to have to work with me a little.

Unless...

[Okay, there's got to be a better way of handling this. He's obviously not dealing with a Cybertronian.]

Can you text me your planet of origin?

[kick_astromech]

[This is ridiculous. A droid who can't- well. Artoo chirps, and then does a quick check of this new upgrade before he finds the right configuration.]

[[Last planet of operation = Alderaan. No longer existent._]]

[skidaddle]

Alright, so you probably won't be wanting to return there anytime soon.

[And you understand him! Which is great. Just give him a little longer and he might be able to start picking up on those beeps of yours...]

Is your species techno-evolved, or constructed by something else?

[kick_astromech]

[Artoo whistles a low, sad-sounding tone at that. It's still a little surreal to think that an entire planet's been destroyed so quickly.]

[[Droids = Constructed. Man-made.

...you are not a droid?_]]

[skidaddle]

[That was all-too-descriptive a sound...so now Skids feels a little bad.]

If it helps, my world is pretty much destroyed too.

But no, I'm not a droid. I'm a Cybertronian. Mech-made, I guess you'd say?

So what were you 'created' to do?

[Since he's noticed the lack of arms, which is not particularly usual.]

[kick_astromech]

[[Cybertronian = Unfamiliar term.

Goes with the unfamiliar world.]]

[Robots made by robots, then? Well, not completely unheard of, but these were nothing like the droids he's seen before.]

[[Navigational assistance and starship repairs. R2-D2 = At your service._]]

[skidaddle]

It goes exactly. This is Cybertron.

It's. Uh. It's not my Cybertron, though. And if you couldn't guess from the name, it's normally a planet filled with sentient robotic life-forms.

[He's had to explain this one a bunch.]

So you're a medic.

A medic who knows how to fly a ship? I could think of a few places you'd have been useful.

[On the Lost Light, for starts.]

Unfortunately, none of them are here.

[kick_astromech]

[[Cybertron = Not within known territories of the galaxy I am familiar with.]]

[He gives a brief 'bwaat' at the medic term. It's a little odd to be called such, since he'd always paired with more...biological sorts.]

[[Tell me about it.]]

[Being stuck on some foreign planet so abruptly certainly puts a damper on his mission.]

[skidaddle]

If you don't know about it, you're probably better off.

Ever heard of Earth, maybe? Hedonia? The Grand Galactic Council?

[There's got to be some common coordinate out there.]

If you're good at repairing junk, though, we've got plenty of it.

[kick_astromech]

[His domed head twitches back and forth, his beeps sounding a negative.]

[[Unknown = Unless they are part of the Unknown Regions.

...would prefer that said junk had an actual function to be repaired._]]

[skidaddle]

Could be. That would qualify it as unknown.

[You know. Being part of an unknown region and all.]

At this point, having just about anything repaired would be useful. We're starting from scratch here.

[kick_astromech]

[[Would like to assist, but have urgent matters to attend to...

Urgent matters = Not here. Problem._]]

[skidaddle]

I hate to say that leaving?

It might be the real problem.

No one's gone yet, except via the Badlands, and I'll be straight with you: It's not worth trying.

[kick_astromech]

[[Coming here = One way trip?]]

[The flat-sounding beeps and twitters to follow don't need a translation to figure the droids feeling on that piece of news.]

[skidaddle]

For now, yeah. Unless you've got any schematics for a transwarp field generator hidden in that round exoplating...

then we're pretty much stuck.

Just in case you do, however, I might know where you can get some parts.

[Hint! It's in the junk-yard.]

[kick_astromech]

[[That would be a negative._]]

[skidaddle]

You just had to get my hopes up, didn't you.

[Nevermind that its Skids own fault.]

[kick_astromech]

[[That was all you.]]

[Yeah, Artoo's not taking responsibility for that one. He gets blamed for enough things!]

[[Never stated = Designation._]]

[skidaddle]

Sometimes I need my hopes.

[Other times, he couldn't seem to find them anywhere.]

Skids.

Not exactly at your service, but if there's something I can do and I'm not busy feel free to let me know.

[kick_astromech]

[He hoots a bit of a laugh. Well, if they're as stuck as Skids has mentioned, then Artoo can't blame him.]

[[Acknowledged. Nice to meet you, Skids.

Designation = R2-D2.]]

[skidaddle]

Likewise, R...2.

What does that stand for? Just out of curiosity?

[kick_astromech]

[[R = Series Code; 2 = Second in R-series

D2 = Personal Identification Code_]]