Facelift and the neutrals assume their vehicle modes.
"Alright, lead the way..." the doctor begrudgingly says.
Deus follows her, his footsteps producing heavy thuds as he jogs.
A tiny, blue hologram of Lady Corona materializes above the datacard.
"Hello, Driftburn!" the hologram recites. "O-or is it Scrapshot? Whatever. It doesn't really matter does it?
"You've probably figured out what your new upgrade does by now, one way or the other, and you might be wondering what exactly it does. It's simple, really: Your spark has been split in two, and each half now resides in each of your robot modes, which can now separate, as well. I've been told that it's a disorienting experience at first, but you'll get used to it.
"You're a bot living two lives, Driftburn... Scrapshot... whatever. Anyways, perhaps this could help you see the benefits of that, while at the same time realizing that you're more of a singular entity than you might think. If that makes any sense."
Corona motions for Actaeon to lead on, gesturing toward the looming visage of Salvation.
Aboard Salvation, Sprocket and Grommet enter their shared laboratory, followed by Shockwave. The two scientists were once again fighting, which was of no surprise to anyone who knew of their relationship.
"Well, of course I'm gonna need to get some more data," says Sprocket. "Run some more tests, and such-n'-such. But we could start applying the Omega Key's cybermatter-generating properties after Salvation gets put back together! A few drops of the stuff, and SideStep's already on the mend; imagine what we could do if we had a proper supply of it!"
"Yes, yes, yes," Grommet sighs. "You've just made history- you've only said variations of that phrase for the past day!"
"Doesn't make it any less true, does it?" Sprocket quips, shrugging his shoulders smugly. "I'm unlocking the secrets of the ancients; and you're strapping guns to turbofoxes. I think you're just envious of my accomplishment."
"Oh, plea-" Grommet begins to retort, before he accidentally places a foot into a hole in the floor and stumbles. Quickly stepping away from the hole after regaining his balance, he grumbles:
"Confound this repair protocol! It's so bloody inconvenient!"
"Yeah, I'll level with you there," Sprocket agrees. "Hard to get work done when all your stuff's-"
The Autobot suddenly quiets, the red lights on his cheeks fading to black as he looks suspiciously around his half of the lab.
"Sprocket?" Grommet reacts, his telescoping eye dilating.
"Something's missing," Sprocket mumbles, more to himself than anyone else, but loud enough so that Grommet and Shockwave could hear. Immediately, he descends upon a pile of artifacts on one of the tables, sifting though it.
"How can you tell?" Grommet dryly deadpans. "This place is a g*dd*mn sty."
"I can just tell, alright; I can feel it!" Sprocket retorts, continuing his frantic search as he jumps from one part of the lab to the next. The relics and datapads he threw aside hang in the air as the spaceport's mechanisms catch and begin to clean them.
"Such a lack of proper scientific discipline and cleanliness..." Shockwave notes in his usual terse monotone as he took a high-tech multi-tool to the injuries he had sustained in the earlier riot.
"Yeah, well, we can't all be the brightest mind alive with unlimited funds and a giant-aft tower in the middle of Kaon, now can we?" Sprocket shoots back as he continues his investigation. He backs away from another pile, this one also failing to yield the missing object- whatever it was- and looks around the lab for any sign of what he was looking for...
...His eyes fall upon an empty, shattered case off in the back corner of the room, its pieces aglow with a blue light as the spaceport's cybermatter generators worked to slowly put it back together.
Sprocket stares wide-eyed at the empty case, realizing now what exactly had been taken as the sinking feeling of dread begins to set in. The lights on his cheeks flicker for a moment before he manages to dumbly sputter out:
"This... is a problem."
Shockwave and Grommet follow his gaze, and quickly arrive at a similar conclusion.
"No slag, genius," Grommet quips.
"Indeed," Shockwave affirms.