Salvation: Part II

“Slag. We need a way to control him. As much as I want to trust your visions, we can’t just let him run amok. He’s dangerous.”

“I agree.” Zepar whispered, “Nova’s planning something and I don’t like the look he had when I asked about it.”

“Uh, Facelift?” Epsilon asked, approaching the mad scientist.

“Great,” Salvo says.

The Omega Key continues to repair Salvation from the control room.


“I’m starting to get that impression…” Corona says.

“Yeees?” Facelift asks, peering over at Epsilon.

“How long would it take for you to make me into a triple changer?” Epsilon asked.

Frak, man, I’d need my whole setup to do that,” he says.

“When the ship gets put back together- y’know, assuming Nova doesn’t melt us into slag- I’d love to help.”

“And I would like some folks to watch and to be fully awake for the procedure.” Epsilon said.

Zepar looks at Corona, silently asking for her advice on what is to be done.

“M’lady. I’ve always considered your propheies to be supernaturally accurate. Your previous predictions have been too specific and to precise to be dismissed, but I must ask.” He looked at her. “Do you not consider the ramifications of the prophesies before you act on them? He may be the Salvation of us all, but how much collateral damage could he cause without a way to reign him in?”

“Odd request,” Facelift says, “but alright. Whatever suits ya.”

“I figure your ship’s cannons could provide a good-enough leash, should the worst come to pass,” Corona says, more to give herself hope than anything else. She’d made a mistake- she was almost certain of that now. She only hoped that it could be undone.

Nova begins to walk down a hallway out of the forge. The captains, Lurch, and Grommet follow. Shockwave and Thrift carry the unconscious four-armed neutral, while Facelift held the comatose Sidewinder in his arms. Salvation crew members and pilgrims alike were beginning to leave.

GC saw her crestfallen look, and put his arm around her.

“Come on. Let’s make sure he doesn’t blow up the planet or anything” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

The three brothers transformed into their jet modes and took off, hovering outside the tower.

Spectrum hurried over to Facelift and poked him cautiously.

Daria looks at Nova, as if she was sizing him up, before pointing the Big Stick at the dishonored prime.
“1, 2, 3, 4, BAM!”
Daria pulled the trigger of the Bio Stick letting it fire at the dishonored prime.


Scrapshot sat in the room, staring at the Omega Key,
“-and that’s why I called him brother… and now I’m talking to a cosmic key… great… now I’ve really lost it.”
He sighs,
“I guess Driftburn was right… should’ve never left…”
Scrapshot looks at the ceiling,
"We’re the same person, right? Shouldn’t that mean we’d think the same way?
He let his question drift in the atmosphere, unanswered, before speaking again,
“I wonder which of us is fake…I’m purely based on the role of the younger brother… and he’s entirely based on our older brother, he has his form after all… but why do I feel more fake then him?”
Scrapshot banged his manipulator against a wall,
“Yeah, by any metric I’m the real fake.”


Actaeon finally caught up to a brooding Driftburn, who was somewhere, roughly near the location of the Salvation. Actaeon took a few heavy steps towards the shambled bot,
“You’re coming with me.”
Driftburn looks at him annoyed. Actaeon continues,
“That’s not a suggestion, we need to talk.”
Driftburn crosses his arms,
“And why do you care? You didn’t know of my existence until not too long ago… Ah, I bet you’re doing this to impress that lady bot.”
Actaeon’s brows furrow and he stares at Driftburn,
“Do I need to repeat myself?”
Driftburn spits on the ground,
“Repeat what ?”
Actaeon takes a few steps forwards, resting his hand on Driftburn’s shoulders,
“Don’t make me repeat that. Understand?”
Actaeon smiles, although that smile was a mask for a burning anger. Driftburn not wanting to be threatened by this random bot, retorts,
“And that’s what you call a threat? Wow… it looks like you’ve really fallen for her. You haven’t denied any of my claims.”
Actaeon states coldly,
“I won’t comment on something that’s slag. I don’t give a flying frak about a claim that a son of a scrapheap like you say.”
Driftburn slaps Actaeon, who was taken back by the slap and was knocked back a bit,
“AND WHAT’S YOUR MALFUNCTION!!”
Actaeon smirks, resting his hand on his face,
“Frak. That was my question. Slag for Brains.”
Driftburn looks at Actaeon pushing him away,
“I’ve been an unsouled, haven’t I?”
Actaeon nods,
“Big time unsouled… whatever that means… what does that mean?”
Driftburn thinks about it, “Em…welp, I’ll tell another time. I should go find myself.”
Actaeon nods waving goodbye to the bot and heading in the other direction.

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A fog had settled over the sea, and dark clouds hid the stars in the sky above. The pilgrims had deployed what defenses were available in their city below the spaceport, and now awaited Bludgeon’s arrival.


Facelift looks down at Spectrum.

“I get the distinct impression we’ve frakked up royally, little lady,” he says.

The scrapmaker component of the Big Stick unleashes a storm of bullets that pelt Nova’s back… to the mere annoyance of the disgraced Prime. He barely even flinches as he turns around to look at Daria.

“Well, it’s about time someone broke the tension…” he quips as he flourishes his wings, their orange conduits turning yellow and glowing brightly.

HC glared at Daria. “Are you MAD?! Do you have a death wish?!” He said to her, then he turned an eye to Nova.

Blight held his position, ready for the first sign of danger.


Confused, he judged any nearby citizens for a template to scan.

Redstocker continued pushing the prisoners towards the tower.
Delta and Blackbeak, meanwhile, just arrive and landed on the same platform.


Song was silently eyeing Nova, still in her dragon mode.

Salvation’s prisoners are quickly escorted into one of the spaceport’s towers. Their guards post themselves around it, preparing for battle with the rest of the Fleetcarrier’s crew.

Thunder rumbles ominously in the clouds above, and pilgrims and Salvation crew members alike silently watch the sky, awaiting the Heretics’ attack. They had activated all the defenses they could in the ramshackle city, but it was doubtful that it would be enough- the weapons of these repurposed starships were seven millennia out of date; with the amount of firepower Bludgeon’s fleet possessed, the warlord could turn the city below the spaceport into rubble with his opening salvo, if he so desired.

running between the high cliffs, above the city like a great shield were the bridges, platforms, and towers of the ancient spaceport. Most of it’s mechanisms remained offline, save for the giant rings that slowly spun around Salvation, activated from the control room by the Omega Key.

Lightning flashes within the clouds, revealing the silhouette of an immense Decepticon insignia hovering high overhead- it was Bludgeon’s flagship, the Armageddon. The familiar outlines of a fleet of other Decepticon battleships hang around it. The Heretics had arrived.

The pilgrims carried old, outdated weapons, while the crew of Salvation’s armaments were the best of what the Autobots and Decepticons could provide.


@Jcton

The long feathers of Nova’s wings- eight, in all- detach from the Prime’s body and hover beside him as they transform into energy cannons. Two of them emit a loud him as a powerful beam of yellow energy shoots from each of them, aimed at Daria.

GC dashed forward, and activated his shield, attempting to stop the blasts.

“Can I get my shotgun now?” Redstocker asked.

Delta turned to Salvo.
“You see that?”
Blackbeak hid behing Delta’s leg, obviously intimidated.

Wildsong attempted to incinerate the feathers, tho the firestorm would most than likely be too big to control and it would probably affect some of the other crew members too if they were too close.

The shield would offer Gatecrasher and Daria a moment of protection. So powerful were the beams that they would quickly overload the energy shield, causing it to shatter.

The flames lap harmlessly off Nova Prime and his cannons. Still, it draws the Prime’s attention. Ceasing his attack on Daria and Gatecrasher, he whips around to face his new opponent, the cannons around him following his movements. Nova fires a single beam of energy at Wildsong. The shot, would it connect, would be most likely lethal.


“I won’t stop you…” Forcep says, gazing up at the enemy ships, his metal brow furrowed.

Salvo hadn’t followed Delta out of the control room. She was elsewhere in the city, no doubt ready for battle.

Wildsong, still in her dragon mode, swipe to her right, before lunging at the Prime.

“Have any idea where the prisoners’ weapons would be stored?”

It was only then when Delta realised this. She tried to call Salvo via the comms.


Elsewhere in the village Gronius, still in his dragon mode, was flying above the buildings, looking up at the ships, preparing for battle.