@BlackBeltGamer98 @ToaNoah_Wafflemeister @Flux @ProfSrlojohn
Shockwave continues to monitor the Cortical Psychic Patch, leaving the Omega Key and the trove of relics Epsilon had brought him alone, for now. He saw it best to devote his full attention to this singular endeavor; he saw the bothersome Autobot zebra's quest to perfect cloning as a waste of time, and he could decipher the relics later. The Patch, on the other hand, showed promise.
On the other side of the hall, Grommet enters his lab. Sprocket hadn't accompanied him, much to his delight; coupled with the retreat of the New Decepticons, that meant he might actually have the chance to get some real work done... until the next distraction reared its ugly head again.
Sprocket had immediately left for the Omega Conflux as soon as he was able; surprised to see it guarded now by an Autobot and Decepticon duo, along with the fireteam Requiem-IX. The guards stood apart from each other, leaning against the walls as they passively surveyed the chamber's strange mechanisms and the holo-map that filled the room. Sprocket notices the biomechanical plant growth that was now weaving its way between the hovering platform's machinery, and his fingers twitch in anticipation. If only he had the time to thoroughly analyze this room! And Grommet would be practically beside himself with glee in studying these new plants, he reckoned. But Grommet wasn't here right now...
Well, that's his loss, he thinks. Why should I care, anyway?
Shatterpoint and the bridge crew leave the Antillian Sunrise; Topside lingers a moment longer, glancing around at the faces of the other patrons- Autobots, Decepticons, and bots who didn't give a d*mn one way or the other. They were all enjoying their hard-fought victory together. It warmed the spark, to be sure, but for Topside, the moment was bittersweet. With a respectful nod to Halfrunner- a silent thanks for the free engex- he leaves for another spot in Little Iacon...
In the medical bay, Forcep examines the body of a New Decepticon soldier, thoroughly shot through by a healthy variety of ammunition. Many of them were mortal wounds- this warrior should have been incapacitated, if not killed outright, within seconds. But he'd personally seen this fanatic continuously shrug off these fatal injuries during the battle, only being brought down when the Predaking had relieved him of his head. It warranted investigation...
...Much like the odd mechanisms which had appeared within his laboratory, which produced a continuous supply of small black canisters containing samples of two types of fluid. One was the Blue Cybermatter the Omega Key produced; the substance had been known to our heroes and the crew of Salvation for some time now. The other, however, was a shimmering green liquid, its properties yet unknown.
Salvo takes a moment to peel herself away from her broken mech suit to recount her inventory. She still had Shockwave's prototype Corrupter rifle- which she didn't expect to be making a profit on anytime soon- and a few more of those odd grenades the cyclops had brought with him when he first joined the crew.
Her thoughts drift to Laslow, her fellow Autobot, now dead at the hands of the predacon Skystalker. She'd been too late to save him, and the vengeance got from seeing his killer slain by the hand of Starchaser was hollow. She chuckles at the irony of a Decepticon- inadvertently though it may have been- avenging the death of an Autobot. Stranger things have happened, but it wasn't something she'd ever expected to see Autobots and Decepticons fighting together.
I suppose anybody could learn to play nice with the bad guys with extinction being the alternative...
Greasemonkey begins to prepare the transwarp drive for another jump. Salvation had sustained little damage in the battle, thanks to her new energy shields. Before her first batch of upgrades on OL-0, she'd been accruing injuries faster than the crew could patch them up; she'd have been shot to pieces by now, the cyborg reckoned, and most of her crew with her.
"Those ruffians will undoubtedly think twice about giving you trouble now, my dear," he laughs, patting the control panel affectionately. A passerby could almost swear they heard the hum of Salvation's engines momentarily rise in pitch for a second, as if in reply.
"Yep, she's a real marvel alright," comes the voice of Thrift, from behind Greasemonkey; the cyborg groans and rolls his left eye. Why couldn't he go bother someone else?
"Don't tell the Gambler I said that," the junkion continues with a laugh.
"You mean the sorry excuse for a ship you've got wasting space in the hangar?" Greasemonkey quips.
"Hey!" Thrift snaps, offended. "I've spent good time and money on the Gambler; built her myself, I'll have you know!"
"Ah, I see. That would explain some things, then..."
Arthropoda directs the insecticons under her thrall, gathering wounded crewmembers from the gorge and flying them up to Salvation. In the side-chamber of her hive, Facelift dissects his latest "generous donor of inventory", humming a jaunty little tune as he did so.