Dr. Doppler's Laboratory(#4892Ten)

Dr. Doppler's laboratory is largely similar to the main Research Lab, except of course that he can lock the reinforced door if he so chooses. The first thing you notice is the sheer amount of space towards the back. There's enough room there to keep a ride armor 20 feet tall, and a sheet of canvas hung on the wall that could cover it. Right now most of that floor is covered with a disorganized pile of random robotic parts, probably enough to build several whole reploids. Closer to the entrance is Dr. Doppler's personal maintenance chamber, as well as a desk covered in papers, an intercom, and a terminal with access to the Maverick Central Computer.

Procyon [SD]

Obvious exits:

Out <O> leads to MavHQ - Research Lab.

Dr. Doppler sits before one of the many consoles scattered about the dim room, the glow of the monitor washing across his gaunt face. There are no windows here, making the time of day almost irrelevent. He taps a few final keys, then sits back as the computer begins the tedious process of number crunching. So much data has been collected on the Stardroids, and yet so much of it is almost useless. No pattern has yet to be found, at least by him. That does not sit well with him, not at all.

A voice rings out from the nothingness of the room's air, "There is no pattern. There is no rhyme or reason. Because there is no order." The voice is quite identifiable, though he doesn't appear just yet.

Dr. Doppler is jerked out of his thoughts by the voice, bushy eyebrows knotting. Another few keystrokes, this time to ensure that the internal security feed is indeed working. Then he stands, brushing the wrinkles out of his robe. "Another visitor, hm?" he says, almost rhetorically.

"You who would once be human, you are like DeVry. You want for something that makes itself completely against what this planet created."

Dr. Doppler snorts. "Don't compare me to that fool DeVry. At least /I/ understand the true potential of reploid life. He wastes his time trying to fix an ailing species."

Fading into view much like a ghost gaining corporeal shape, Procyon shakes a finger back and forth. "An ailing species? They are you Doppler, even if you wish to turn your back on them. You are as much a part of them as they are you. But thats not why I am here." Procyon leans against one of the tables, careful to not hit any of the work on them. "You obviously seek knowledge. What knowledge is it that you seek? Hrmm?"

Dr. Doppler scowls darkly. "Humanity turned their backs on me long ago. But that is neither here nor there, is it?" His hands remain loosely at his sides, his gaze fixed on Procyon, though it means he must look up to do so. "I seek knowledge of you and your kind. I am a scientist, after all. What else would you expect?"

Looking down at the ground, Procyon hides a morbid grin from the gaze of Doppler for a few moments. "Turned against? Turned away. A home that is not a home." Riddles perhaps? He then looks up, crossing his arms across his chest, "What information of my kind do you seek?" Yes, of course, the one thing /no one/ has tried yet, was to simply ask him.

The Stardroids appear to full of riddles, and this one is no exception. At least this one isn't rifling through the kitchen cabinets. "I wish to know what drives you to be here," Doppler admits. "This is at least the second time when your presence means that Earth's fate hangs in the balance."

"So conceited, so very very self centered are you and our planet. Such is the way it was and always will be it would seem though." Procyon's grin forms wider, that toothy grin that is so signature of him or the Devil when they're about to let you in on the 'true' game. "We aren't here for Earth. I am here to collect my wayward brothers and sisters who have fled their fate. Tell me Doppler, what would it take to have you and your Coalition to help find and collect the Rogues?"

Yes, well, this is the only planet we have," Doppler points out. "Obviously we have a vested interest in its safety." He strokes his beard as he considers the question/offer. "That would depend. We've heard many things from the Stardroids the past few weeks, many of them contradictory. How would we know it's in our best interest to help you?"

Procyon doesn't get threatening, though his words might imply as such, "Simple. I am the one who is the strongest of the group here. Out all of them. The so called Agents of Nigh, Scorpio, Denenbola, and Cancer. They are chaos incarnate, here to do Nigh's work. As I am in a way. Out of all the Rogues, the ones who have come here to hide and seek refuge in the only place to resist Judgement this time around." Standing up straight, Procyon holds out his arms, "If I really wanted your planet gone, it could be erased from time itself. But I do not, I've a vested interested in the continued existance of m..." he pauses for second, "this planet. My want for you to help is nothing more than to rid yourselves of the Stardroids so that existance can go about its rightful course."

Dr. Doppler considers Procyon's words carefully. Confirmation that at least one of them does have acess to time manipulation, just as he suspected. "We have that much in common, at least. We both have an interest in the continuation of Earth's existance. Even so, I think it's been proven that even our cutting edge technology is hardly a match for any of you. Also, my conversation with Cancer suggests she seeks oblivion. Hardly inspiring to those of us who would prefer not to be dragged along with her."

"Not all of us seek oblivion. Nor does the universe." Procyon sits down in a chair that you could swear wasn't there a minute ago. "Sit my dear Doppler." And just as much out of the air is a chair right behind you, beckoning you to sit in it.

Dr. Doppler obligingly sits down, apparently deciding that this offer is relatively safe enough to accept. "And all you want is to collect your wayward siblings and return from wherever it is you came, hm?" If there is any mockery, it is very faint. "There must be a fearful homecoming if they're so afraid of you and those with you."

The very armor of Procyon begins to emit a low level glow, "They fear the light that I offer to them. They fear the aspect of freedom that Duo so long held from them. They fear so much because they've been nothing more than pawns in a game of cosmic chess. I offer the freedom that they once cherished on their planets. Their planets which were destroyed." Procyon leans forward, resting his elbows on the arm wrests and in turn resting his chin upon his upheld hands. His voice and very form seems to become a bit distant, "All of us, with the exception of one," a faint smile forms on his face, "have lost their planets. Each of us is choosen from the last survivors before the final act of destruction is put upon the planet. Each of us once had a home, had people to love, people to conquer, people to fear. Each of us is the last of our kinds, well...almost all of us."

Dr. Doppler adjusts his optical filters accordingly. The scientist's expression becomes pensive as he considers this. If the Stardroids themselves are pawns, then what does that make the inhabitants of Earth? A dangerous game, indeed. His words are chosen carefully. "Then they must have been enslaved for a very long time if they fear freedom. It's rare to find a slave that fears the removal of their chains. We in the Coalition have had a few, of course, but they soon saw the light."

"The bonds of slavery have been on their heads for milennia for some, millions of years for others, and for others even greater than that." The last words seem to ring true for this one former servant. "That is why i ask your help. You know of the world that has done this to some. You know the ways to appeal to them, whatever way is needed." Procyon extends a hand out, imploring you, "Help me Doppler. Help me save my brothers and sisters."

Dr. Doppler again considers his response carefully. Anyone in his position would do the same. The words strike a chord with him, an understanding. And yet, the message brought to him by another Stardroid even as Seoul became a battlefield still rings in his memory. "As much as I may sympathise with your plight, ultimately the power of the Coalition does not rest with me. While I advise and guide, I do not lead." A twisting of the truth, perhaps, but not a great one. "Let me carry your words to Emperor Sigma. No doubt he will sympathise with your request." A bare hint of a smile. "In the meantime, I would be willing to offer my assistance in keeping tabs on your elusive siblings."

"Wise choice of words and future action." Procyon says slightly amused, as he stands from his seat. "I shall however bring this up with him myself, since you twist your own position to make it seem less than it is." Do not twist the truth to the lord of lies. Stepping forward, he leans down, his hands resting on the edge of your own arm rests, even if your hands at there. "However, do not play games with me Doppler, I know you are watching us all. If I find now though, that you withhold information as to the whereabouts of my comrades, after your offer of keeping tabs on them, I shall come to you to answer for your failure." Standing up straight, he brushes his hands off slightly, "Do not let us get off to a bad start though. Since you offer, tell me what would you have as a price on your help? Hrmm?"

Dr. Doppler finds himself stared down at by Procyon. Not the most comfortable position by any means. Still, he does not flinch. Call it pride, but he refuses to allow himself to be seen as unnerved. He has not lived this long by appearing weak. "I would not dream of withholding it," he says with forced calm. "As for my price, perhaps some tidbit from your vast technological resources. Surely we are so far behind your science there is no harm in that."

And as mysteriously as this all started, it ends. Procyon fades, but his words strike out through the air, "I will go through my tomes and find a few things that would be discovered soon for you, and hand them to you before a fortnight is up."

Procyon goes home.

Procyon has left.

================================== Maverick ==================================

Message: 9/37 Posted Author

Stardroid Encounter Orders revised Sat Nov 30 Dr. Doppler

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<Doppler Spinny! Text message follows.>

Effective immediately, all encounters with any Stardroids are to be reported upon first contact. Any recording of the encounter(s) and personal reports are to be filed directly with me as soon after the encounter as possible. In addition, no direct action is to be taken against Procyon, Cancer, Denebola, or Scorpio.

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(Moments later...)

Aquarius has arrived.

Dr. Doppler sits in a chair, fingers steepled and brow furrowed as he stares at the empty chair opposite him. One massive, Stardroid-sized chair. The lights are dimmed, the only other source of illumination being the various monitors spread around the room and the winking LEDs of working equipment. Circles within circles, wheels within wheels. Such are the scientist's thoughts as he mulls over his recent conversation.

Small lights . . but here's one further, as a small bit of glow seems to rise from within the seat of the chair. Gradually, slowly, the glow increases, until at last it's a large shape there . . .

Which fades into the mellower, smaller glow of Aquarius. For some reason, sections of her seem . . stained. Tinted hues of various rusts, and her frills droop in close to her body. Lifting her gaze calmly to Doppler, she says, "Is this a good time to speak, or should I call back later?"

Procyon(Dan) pages: There has to be something distinctly odd about it though.

Dr. Doppler's brows unknot as he raises them in surprise. Not one, but two Stardroids have chosen to call on him this day. His importance in their unfathomable games must be more important than be greater than he first estimated. He sweeps an arm in a gesture for her to approach. "Say what you will. I'm hardly one who can turn away a self-invited guest."

It may be of note that the empty chair has a distinctly odd appearance to it...perhaps Procyon has similiar chairs elsewhere in the universe.

Aquarius has not yet noticed the chair . . it was big enough to fit all her coils, and that was her only thought about it. Folding her hands over the topmost coil, she half-smiles. "I would not wish to intrude, Doctor Doppler . . ?" She does not indeed know of Procyon's visit.

Which is probably just as well. "A little late for that, wouldn't you say?" says Doppler with a mixture of amusement and irony. "So tell me, what do I owe the honor of your visit?"

Aquarius sighs faintly, glancing down at herself. "I was of the thought that you, or perhaps one of the other doctors could synthesize a set of compounds for me."

"What sort of compounds?" Doppler inquires evenly.

Aquarius holds out a hand, flat . . and above it, rippling with the glow that rises from her palm, is three complex compounds. All mineral or metal structures. Not too common, although with one of them it's simply because there were stronger alloys to use that were cheaper to make. "These three."

Dr. Doppler stares at the compounds for a long moment, then casts his gaze up at her. "I see...difficult, but not impossible. Though I do wonder why you seek us out for this...not that I object, of course."

Aquarius sighs, letting the image of the compounds fade. "Because synthesizing them out of your enviroment myself nearly overloaded me with toxins." An odd look crosses her face, and she shudders, moving a loop out from her coils. There's a worm stuck about two inches below her surface, something she ragards with dismay before forcing the squishy thing out of her body. " . . toxins, and things like these."

Betelgeuse has arrived.

External Security Camera Monitor> Gravity Beetle is not a happy bug. No, not at all. So he's visiting the lab for the one reason any insane madman would. WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION. Revenge on Dynamo soon, pain and much blood... er, oilshed will be incurred, yes. Now, where are the big guns?Betelgeuse has arrived.

Gravity Beetle has arrived.

Metal Shark has arrived.

Dr. Doppler watches the worm drop to the floor, squirming away as it searches for a place to hide. "...I see." The scientist considers the Stardroid woman for a long moment, as if weighing the importance of her request. "And these compounds are not often commercially available."

Gravity Beetle rap-tap-taps on the door to Dr. Doppler's lab. When you want weapons of mass destruction, you as the top science boy of the Mavericks. Although, for some strange, disturbing reason, Gravity Beetle wonders if he should be talking to Gizmo Glider about this.

"Doctor Doppler! Are you in there?"

Aquarius tilts her head, after watching the worm squirm away. "If you do not wish to, I can always ask one of the others." Absently, she scrubs a hand along a dirty orange-stained section of herself, as if trying to scrub away the color.

Dr. Doppler begins to answer, but is interrupted by the pounding on his door. "...excuse me a moment." With a sigh, he calls loud enough for Gravity to hear, "Enter!"

"Ah, awright! Hi, Doctor D! I came down to see if you d'WHA?"

Gravity saunters into the room, casual as you like, and then sees... eek! Stardroid! Stardroid in the room! Panic! Fear! Quick, find the space-themed jokes!

"Don't mind if I do!" The bodyless voice is quicly given form as a slight blurring of the doorway gives way to a rather grungy being, one of some height, but repugnant nonetheless. "Where the slag is this hole?" Betelgeuse looks about, elbowing Gravity is if to push him out of the way.

Betelgeuse

A more reploid-looking version of a dirty man with yellowed teeth, white hair, and a black and white horizontally-striped suit.

Dr. Doppler looks askance at the open doorway. Not because of Gravity's presence, but the person behind him. "...collecting strays again?" he asks of Gravity dryly.

Aquarius sighs, as a new person enters the room . . . with a shake of her head, she resumes trying to 'scrub' away the color, gradually a thin powder of that hue starting to fall from her hand.

A most unwelcome voice . . her frills tense, flaring out in sharp pointyness. Skewering anything nearby enough, that isn't her as well. " . . Betelgeuse."

"Betelgeuse?" gasps the Beetle, righting himself from the unpleasant prod. The name bounces around inside the Maverick's titanium skull for a few seconds (If you listen hard, you can hear the *cling*), and he then flails and squeaks again. TWO Stardroids! And what to say in the situation?

"Yeah, can I keep him, huh? I'll take him for regular walks and feed him and... well, you know how the line goes."

Betelgeuse smirks crookedly, bearing green teeth. "Aquarius, how nice! What a surprise of you to have your wits with you. How's it going, toots?" Gravity Beetle is addressed next. The voice is grating, like newborn kittens, soft and cute, in a food processor. But you get used to it. "Why that's a new one. You think that one up yourself?"

You say, "No, Gravity, you may not," sayd Doppler, in the same tone parents reserve for children who bring home snakes and snails for pets. "I doubt he would let you." Three Stardroids, now. Something must be afoot. Turning back to Aquarious, he again studies her. "You appear unwell. I take it that you are still purging those toxins from your system?""

"Yes." Her reply is sharp-edged, wary . . she's eyeing Betel with the air of someone wondering how quickly she can get her hands on something large and blunt for hitting with. In a pinch, the chair should do. After a few moments, she replies to Betel, "Do /not/ talk to me."

"New one? That's one of the comedy dead horses..." mumbles Gravity Beetle, before His Brain kicks in.

.oO(Quiet, you idiot! He's one of those way, way, way out of towners! You no what this means? HE'LL FIND ALL OF OURS JOKES FRESH AND ENTERTAINING!)Oo.

"Wellll... that is to say, of course, that you can't get a good joke out of the dead. I mean, I know for a fact that there's still a good few jokes to be squeezed out of ol'Requiem, as Metal Shark would tell you..."

Betelgeuse grins wider. "Oh, come on. All you need is a good shine." With that, Betel holds his hand forward, and in teleports a flashlight. Click. A beam of light that enters Aqua's third eye, the reflections and refractions causing the entire clear stardroid to glow. He elbows Beetle, snickering before offering him the flashlight. "She can always light up a room, and she doubles as a nightlight. Here, you try. Make it interesting."

Well. At least this visitor is less somber than the previous ones. Dr. Doppler shifts his gaze from Aquarius to Betelgeuse and back, frowning as the light refracts through the Stardroid's body, making plain the contamination still within her. "May I ask a question of you?"

[Radio: (A) Mav-Chat] Scribe Robin transmits, "Hmm, is there anything that requires my attention?"

Gravity Beetle is tossed a flashlight... and can't resist the oppurtunity. Now this Stardroid's speaking his language. Giggling uncontrollably, the Beetle levitates the flashlight and shines it through Aquarius' tail, and under her arms, and behind her head, then back to the tail, spinning it around and creating a disco-ball effect, while he snickers constantly.

"Finally. A Stardroid who knows how to have some fun!"

Aquarius outright shrieks, the sound thin and pained, and she swipes wildly at the flashlight before it's taken away. One bonus, he's not far enough away that he can avoid being clawed! Which she does so, her talons flaring out an extra couple of inches as she swipes at his arm and side. The question isn't answered, as she claws after Gravity, shrieking in fury. Getting light shone through her body isn't painfull, but through the /eye/ . . ah, now that's a different thing.

Aquarius strikes Gravity Beetle with her Crystal Claws attack.

Aquarius misses Betelgeuse with her Crystal Claws attack.

"Squawk!"

Gravity Beetle flails, and scoots behind Betelgeuse.

"Man, that smarts! Betelgeuse, it's not that time of the month for her, is it?"

Betelgeuse's combat roll has failed against Aquarius.

"Certainly, WOAH!" The image of Betel blinks out as quickly as it returns. Only his jacket bears witness to the assault. "Careful there. You might break a nail." Betel cackles at Gravity's comment, and blinks to the other end of the room. "Oh, she's always like that." With that, the stardroid snaps his fingers. He frowns as his attempt fails. "Funny that."

Dr. Doppler heaves a sigh. "Enough, all of you. This is a labratory, not a battlefield. You may be my guests, but my petience as host has limits."

Gravity Beetle whines annoyingly. "She started it. I thought it was a pretty *bright idea*, myself, but I guess she just wasn't *crystal clear* on the fact that it was meant to be a joke..."

He pokes a tongue out at Aquarius, the initial fear and manners giving way to Gravity Beetle's more natural reactions of obnoxiousness and insulting.

Aquarius hisses as her two tormentors are knocked away, and she's still hissing as she settles back into the chair, ready to defend herself again. Oh, she's not going to attack again for mere puns, it seems.

Betelgeuse blinks right next to Beetle, snickering. "Sure enough, Doc. We can illuminate any subject, and you can see right through her intentions. What's the question? I can shine some light on it." He elbows Gravity lightly, "Stick with me, kid, and you'll go places."

Dr. Doppler grumbles softly, but does not reprimand Gravity just yet. He seems to be amusing one of the Stardroids, and so lets the jokes slide. "I wonder...how do you two fit into the grand scheme of things?" he muses aloud. "I understand that you oppose Procyon and the other followers of Nigh?"

Gravity Beetle gets all starry-eyed. Three sentances... such comedic mastery... good grief, more Reploids were as stupid as him, we'd really be in trouble.

"Amazing," he mumbles, still taken aback. "This might just be the second best thing that ever happened to me..."

He grins at betelgeuse, face frozen into the style of an obsessed fan staring at their favorite celebrity, after waiting in line for four hours to get their autograph.

Betelgeuse waves a hand. "Oppose is such a strong word. I prefer 'make fun of'. I'm here just for the laughs and for trading quiche recepies. " He leans back, floating in air a bit, "You natives are the funniest bunch I've seen in a long time, so I figure this place is better off not becoming a grease stain, if that's what you mean."

"Procyon seems to be taking things much more seriously than that," Dr. Doppler casually observes. "Though it is nice to know that some of you would like our continued existence."

"Yeah, well... He's always been like that." He glances at Gravity. "You. Get me something to eat."

Gravity Beetle twitches, and suddenly stands to more rapt attention than he's possibly ever done to a superior Maverick officer. "You got it!" he cheers, before dashing out of the room.

Metal Shark has left.

A few minutes later, Gravity Beetle's Gunbeetle should trundle into the room with takeaway pizza. This has not, unfortunately been ordered by Gravity Beetle- no, he's in the kitchen now, trying to make it himself, continuing to prove that the Drone is in most respects smarter than the person it toils under. But it's certainly not as funny.

Dr. Doppler quirks something akin to a smile at Gravity's behavior. That could be first time the Maverick's ever shown respect to anyone outside of Sigma. Returning his attention back to Betel, he inquires, "Even so, you have no interest in helping him with his plans?"

<Global News Network> On the various news networks, this report can be seen. A reporter stand on a beech, where Jet Stingray and a older man in swimming trunks appear to be relaxing on lawn chairs with a small group of people about them. "This is Fred Copper, here located on the beaches of Rio where both famed film director Roland Sterns and famed racing Repliforcer and perhaps soon to be movie star Jet Stingray. They are here to hang out with some reporters and fans, claiming that it will be a Q&A session about the movie, how casting and such as going as well as having a low key BBQ. All are invited... Though there is quite a fair amount of security here to discourage any that would disrupt what might be the calmest and casual film update on the new Stingray movie for sometime. This is Fred Copper, back to you in the studio."

Aquarius finally stops trying to clean out her hide . . . still, the mottled, earthy tones do /not/ go with her natural rainbow self. She gives Doppler a faint, tight smile. "I have a reason I wish to continue to exi--"

And that's as far as she gets, before being rudely teleported away.

Betelgeuse shakes his head. "Not if I can help it. Doesn't mean I can't do this!" Betel snaps his fingers again, and Aquarius is replaced with a glowing, ghostly image. The impurities of dirt and minerals fall to the ground unceremoniously, as Betel has succeeded in teleporting Aqua's physical form somewhere on the globe, stranding the dirt and Aqua's light-based mind behind. "BWAAAAHAAAHAAAAHAAA!" Oooh, if looks could kill, the ghostly light could destroy entire planets.

Dr. Doppler takes all of this in stride. It's not his place to intervine in Stardroid amusements, after all. "Then may I ask who you serve, if anyone? I had heard something about the Stardroids being granted freedom..."

The 'light' Aquarius fades from sight, beginning the long trek to find where, exactly, Betel teleported the crystals. "I've had my fill of serving some other guy. It's time for me to be my own leader."

"Then you serve no one," Doppler says, tone somewhere between statement and question.

Betelgeuse lowers, setting his feet on the ground, and accepting the pizza. "I serve my own wants and desires."

Dr. Doppler corrects himself. "You serve no one but yourself, then."

Gravity Beetle has disconnected.

Betelgeuse grins, again bearing green sarcasm-laden teeth. "NOW you're getting it. That must be why you're the doctor. Being so smart. Now, is there any other question you need to ask four times before I eat this cardboard people call pizza?" Betel begins eating, regardless of the answer.

With the number of riddles he'd received, is it any wonder Dr. Doppler often repeats himself? "Then I'll find another question with which to pester you. Once you've eaten, that is."

Betelgeuse chokes down a slice. "You might as well get it out now, pops. It's bad to hold it all in. That's what fiber is for." He gnaws on another slice, scolding the drone. "I've had rock taste better than this. Are you trying to kill me?" This does not stop his meal, however.

Dr. Doppler merely says "Be thankful that Sonic Banshee is no longer in charge of the kitchens." Wit, or statement of fact? "You must excuse my curiousity. What is history to you is new to us. Have all the Stardroids been released from their original service?"

Betelgeuse exudes a belch worthy of biological warfare-grade gas. "Your guess is as good as mine, Pops. All I know is that one day, some of them weren't doing the usual chores. So I left. I mean, I don't want to be spending the rest of my eternity looking for slime that the high muck-a-mucks to come in and declare judgement on. Most of them have as much personality as the rocks they bang together."

Dr. Doppler decides it's better not to take offense at being compared to slime, at least not verbally. Still, his brow furrows. "I see...then Spica, Aquarius, and the others share you view, and left as well?"

Betelgeuse shakes his head, tsking as if to an errant child. "I never said that. C'mon. Even YOU could see that Aqua doesn't exactly love me. That's part of the fun, actually. All I'm saying is that something happened, and they never tell lowly old me, so I left, and there wasn't anyone to stop me. You actually eat this stuff?"

"Even people who cannot stand one another can still work towards a common goal," Doppler points out. "And no, I never have the pizza here."

"Smart man. This stuff is horrible." Gnaw, gnaw, gnaw. "But yes, there is something going on. It's funny as all to watch, too."

Dr. Doppler hmphs. "Even we've figured out that much. If you don't mind my saying so, it seems some of you are persuers, and others the persued."

Betelgeuse sneers a nod, "It does seem like that, yes." Heartburn or no, the pizza is finished. "Now, time to see if this place has any good stuff."

Dr. Doppler simply waves a hand towards the door. "The kitchen is down the hallway, through the barracks, to the left." Aquarius had already perused the mess hall on a prior visit, what's another visitor?

Betelgeuse simply blinks out of sight, nary a goodbye.