Zepar tries to place the SMG on the table the Engex bottle vanished from and watches the projection and table to see how things react.
Epsilon looks around and checks his radar, trying to figure out which way the Ground Bridge was.
Requiem-IX follows.
The warehouse was a more recent consruction, built by the cybertronian pilgrims from the hull of an old blue starship. It rested on the water’s edge, below the hovering collection of pieces that was once Salvation. Half of it was engulfed in the shadow of the Fleetcarrier, while the other was bathed in the sunlight.
Thrift and Deus shrug simultaneously.
“Yeah,” Thrift flatly states.
The coordinates Motherboard had supplied were close.
Speaking of Motherboard, a Epsilon’s commlink blinks as the First Officer attempted to reach the scout.
As soon as Zepar set down the SMG, thin rays of blue light shoot out from the console and dance over the gun for a moment. The lights then stop, and turn a shade of green as a pleasant hum emanates from the Omega Key.
A blue aura washes over the SMG, and in an instant it vanishes. In the center of the room, a new line of green cyberglyphs materializes beside the silver model of Salvation.
“What, talk about our feelings an scrap?” Salvo asks. “You sure?”
Facelift reluctantly silences himself. Once the four-armed neutral was sure he wouldn’t be interrupted, he begins the tale.
“>Sigh<, right. So, about a hundred million years ago- give or take a millennia or two- Solus, Alchemist, and the Knights of Cybertron found an out-of-the-way planet and started building.”
“Building the Omega Lock?” Facelift assumes.
The male guard shakes his head.
“Not at first,” he says. “Solus built all kinds of things here, apparently- whenever she got an idea into her head, she took that hammer of hers and started waling on the biggest hunk of metal she could find. You can afford to be pretty creative when there aren’t any megacities around you might blow up in the process.”
Song landed inside it and transformed, then sat down on the storage, waiting for the supposedly ex-Decepticon heretics.
She shrugged.
“As I said, I was mostly built for war. The very next day after I got born my superiors put a gun in my hand and placed me on a random colony. At that time I didn’t really cared for feelings, that being before I went on Earth.”
Blackbeak, who all this time was flying above them, sat down on the edge of the platform between them.
Spectrum sat down and listened.
Four cybertronian cars enter the building, transforming to robot mode to reveal themselves as the four Decepticons of Requiem-IX.
Gearbox awkwardly looks for a place to sit, before slinking off to a pile of energon cubes nearby. Tossup and Shakedown lean against a metal pillar, while Breakout stands with his arms folded over his chest, looking Wildsong in the eye, as was the polite thing to do.
“What’s Earth like?” Salvo asks. “I’ve always wanted to see the terran homeworld.”
“I dunno, there’s a school of thought suggesting otherwise,” Facelift comments.
There is a moment of silence following the doctor’s remarks.
“…Ahem,” the four-armed neutral clears his throat. “Anyway…”
“The Omega Lock was built a few years later,” the female guard continues the tale. “And I’d wager everything you’ve heard about it is true.”
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OOC: Can you please link me the post where you described them?
IC: Song started at them for a few moments.
“It’s… Diverse.”
Spectrum looks around
“So… wh3re is piece?”
Zepar looks at the projection to see what was changed.
“Hello?” Epsilon said into his comlink.
Breakout stares right back. Evidently, he and his men were waiting for her to get things started.
Salvo nods.
“Yeah, I’ve heard that,” she says. “So, what did you do there?”
“My one-eyed friend knows where to go!” Thrift says, spinning around and gesturing toward Epsilon.
“Crewman Epsilon-5,” Motherboard’s voice crackles through the comlink. “The CFC Salvation has just detected another energy pulse indicative of a ground bridge activation on the other side of the island.”
The Omega Key was now modifying defensive turrets within Salvation. Outside, a wave of green energy washes over the pieces of the Fleetcarrier.
“That’s complicated. Sorta,” the female guard says.
“You see, the Omega is one of the pieces of the Omega Lock. After Liege Maximo instigated the War of the Primes, Optimus Prime cut it into pieces and had them all shipped off to Primus-knows-where. One of them was reforged into a key and left in Crystal City.”
“You mean the Sea of Rust, right?” Facelift comments. "That’s what we call the city now after we kinda sorta maybe bombed it to the ninth ring of the Pit and back.
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“Noted, we’re almost to the first one.” Epsilon said.
He looks at the others, “Let’s get going, we’re close to the bridge.” He said.
Zepar nods and tries to investigate the projection more, trying to learn all he could.
Gatecrasher and laslow followed.
“Affirmative,” Motherboard replies before terminating the call.
Thrift beckons Deus to follow him.
“C’mon, Silent Bob,” the junkion says to the homunculus. Tilting his head quizzically, Deus follows after the group.
There was still a lot to take in. So far, the structural corrections, distillery enhancements, and the turret upgrades were the only modifications being made to Salvation. The rest was repairs, which the projection reported would be complete in a day or two.
“Do’t mind him” Gatecrasher whispers to Deus. “He’s an idiot.”
Zepar looked for some sort of Help screen for all this.
Epsilon starts to head to the bridge’s coordinates.
Deus nods his head. Thrift apparently didn’t hear the remark as he saunters forward, humming a tune softly to himself.
The path would take the party through the spaceport’s underground service tunnels, flooded and overgrown with techno-organic lichens and creepers that emitted soft glows from tiny conduits running through their forms. Deus and Thrift swivel their heads around to take in the scenery, and the junkion even pulls a few plants from the ancient metal.
The corridor eventually gives way to a lagoon partly encircled by a rocky coast. Ancient machines and metal statues of cybertronian knights jut out of white sand at odd angles, and rising up from the shallows was a thin ring crafted from bronze metal. A silver pillar rises from the ground near the ring- likely the control panel for the ground bridge.
Their was something like that available, it seemed, in the form of a blinking yellow icon above the miniature Salvation.
Gatecrasher tried to catch the tune for future reference. If the humans were to accept him in spite of being a Decepticon, it would be useful to learn all he could.
Spectrum rubbed her chin, letting the information tumble around in her brain.
The tune was a jaunty little thing, likely from some cult classic sci-fi film from centuries past:
Even now, before the ground bridge, Thrift could be heard quietly humming it as he surveyed the lagoon.
“What did you do that for?” the female guard asks Facelift, in response to his remark about the sad fate of Crystal City.
Facelift shrugs his shoulders.
“That’s above my pay grade.”
“…Back when I still had one of those…”
Blight shrugged. Pixel hopped off of his shoulders, “accidentally” kicking the medic in the face, and scrambled off, in search of something.