Thrift looks around at all the bots in the corridor: himself, Deus, Daria (@Jcton), Gatecrasher, and Epsilon.
“I dunno,” he says. “There’s five of us here. Five’s a good number, ain’t it?”
The rest of Requiem-IX glares daggers at Shakedown.
The Omega key’s lights glow steadily as it continues to make repairs to Salvation from the console. As before, it was not forthcoming as to what exactly it was doing. The miniature of the Fleetcarrier and the spaceport around her seemed to provide more detail, however.
Facelift observes Spectrum’s reaction to the energy.
“Sooo…” he says to his captors,
“If this planet’s where the Omega Lock was built, does that explain all the glow-y stuff everywhere?”
The four-armed neutral nods.
“Yes,” he affirms. “That ‘glow-y stuff’ is cybermatter, left behind by the Lock’s destruction.”
“Oh, that’s pretty- WHAT?!” Facelift suddenly shrieks, spinning around to look the neutral in the eyes.
Corona seems saddened by Driftburn’s reaction. He looks over at Actaeon.
“Do you know him?” she asks the Autobot.
Holographic Cyberglyphic text surrounded the model. Characters in orange listed repairs being made to Salvation (of which there were many), while characters composed of a forest green light detailed upgrades being made to the ship- such as the enhancements to the engex distilleries that seemed to have somehow come from the Omega Key taking Gearbox’s bottle of booze.
“I’ve been waiting a gorram month for somebody on the ship other than that short little lady on the bridge who understands me!”
“Why?” Breakout asks. " 'Ere seems as good a place as any."
Salvo looks up.
“Yeah,” she says. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“That’s a problem, ain’t it?” Facelift asks his captors. “Because the level of calm with which you offhandedly remarked that the only device that can save our species from starving to death is destroyed is more than a little disturbing!”
“If you’ll calm down and let me continue,” the four-armed neutral says, “I can explain.”