“I know.”
"Perhaps but we should find out what he’s done here since he snuck aboard and determine if he is actually a threat to us while we’re so far away from Cybertron.
The DJ nods slowly, before walking over towards the bar.
Topside nods again.
“Previous interactions would suggest that Facelift does support and is willing to contribute to our mission,” Shockwave notes.
“I think you’re on the wrong ship, Wildsong,” Quasar continues. “The Vigilant isn’t exactly Shockwave’s tower. I’d see about getting transferred to one of the supply ships.”
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“Do you know how to mix drinks?”
“For first, I will not accept any transferation. If you want to get me away of Thunderblast you’ll have to cut my throat open. Second, who says that I want to start building them from now? First and foremost I need to make the blueprints of the bodies and to find six still living sparks.”
The DJ nods his head.
“First and foremost, you need proper authorization before you can even think about making a combiner,” Quasar firmly interrupts.
“I don’t know where you’ve been the past month, but we don’t let random bots walk into a lab and start cutting up test subjects on a whim.”
“Alright, then, i guess we better get the tables set.” She suggests, before moving to one of the tables, moving the chairs from on top, to the bottom.
“I didn’t know you Decepticons have project licenses.”
“In a way, him contributing to the mission could be seen as a sort of unofficial ‘community service’ sentence.” Epsilon says.
Zepar nods, “That’s one way to look at it.”
The DJ presses a button behind the bar, and the lights of the Antillian Sunrise flicker to life. A holo-painting of the sunrise over desert dunes appears over the far wall, and tables and chairs rise up from the floor.
Topside shrugs.
“More likely, Facelift snuck aboard the Salvation to escape Decepticon justice,” Shockwave speculates.
“Having seen what Megatron considers ‘justice’ myself, I’d be inclined to sympathetize with him,” Topside quips.
" ‘You Decepticons’?" Quasar repeats, suspicious. He frowns, and a second later he deploys a plasma cannon from his right forearm.
“Crazy what a little slip of the tongue can cost you, eh, Autobot spy?” Quasar taunts. “Like your life, for instance.”
“That’s probably the case but, innocent until proven guilty.” Zepar said. “However, who is to say whether or not similar motivations caused some of our crew to join this mission?”
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Shockwave’s eye narrows as he considers Zepar’s words.
“A likely possibility,” he concedes.
“Now, are we gonna get moving or are we gonna wax philosophical some more?” Topside asks.
OOC: why did I feel nervous when you said Shockwave’s eye narrowed at Zepar’s question?
IC: “Yeah, we should probably get going.” Epsilon said as he began leading the three to the location where Facelift wanted to meet with him.
Shockwave and Topside follow in their vehicle modes.
Zepar and Epsilon could either get to Facelift by traversing Salvation’s maintenance tunnels, or by accessing the repair station through Engineering.
Epsilon takes the, in his opinion, what feels like the shortest route: using the maintenance tunnels.
The dark and winding maintenance tunnels had been largely untouched by the Omega Key. The dilapidated Decepticon architecture remained the same, and loose stretches of cabling snake across the floor.
The ground would eventually reach Facelift, where they would see the cyclops sitting atop The six-legged walker that he and his assistants had recently acquired.
Facelift jumps down as he sees Epsilon approach.
“Ah, hello!” he says, his eye glowing brightly. “I see you’ve brought friends.”
He turns his attention to Shockwave, Zepar, and Topside.
"What? Do you guys wanna be a combiner, too? I’m not a miracle worker, you know.
“…Okay, that’s not true, but I do have my limits, despite what my reputation may suggest.”
“I did.” Epsilon replied.
“We are here because of your reputation and we want to make sure Epsilon is in top condition after the procedure is completed.” Zepar said.
Facelift brings a talon to his chest and doubles over.
“Oh!” he cries out as he staggers backward, feigning pain. “Oh, you wound me! Of course I will endeavour to ensure Epsilon’s survival and successful augmentation!”
“I meant no offense, but your reputation does need to be considered.” Zepar said.
Epsilon took a deep breath, “I want to be awake for this procedure.” He said.
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Facelift’s eye shrinks as he tilts his head.
“And you all say I’m crazy,” he remarks.
“Granted, you might not be wrong there, but you do realize I’m gonna be taking you apart piece-by-piece for this, right? I’d say it’d be painful, but you’ll be stasis. Probably. It’s gonna be boring!”
“…And also possibly unnerving as you watch an infamous madman and deranged lunatic ripping you to pieces with his claws in your innards, while rebuilding you with ill-gotten parts and secondhand equipment, all while immobile and strapped to an operating table, I might add.”
“…Was that supposed to be reassuring?” Topside deadpans.
“Make of my words what you will, oh captain, my captain,” Facelift says with an exaggerated bow. “And I must say it is a pleasure having you here to observe my work!”