She would tightly catch Hun-Gurr’s left arm, so if he would try to throw her away he would also brake what was left of his other arm.
Gronius kept trying to contact the Splitters via comms.
@meepinater
“Time heals all wounds, fortunately,” Venture says to Thrift.
"Phew,’ Thrift sighs, wiping some non-existent sweat off his brow.
Hun-Gurr does inadvertently damage his left arm further as it tosses Wildsong away, hindering its body’s repair sequence and bending the forearm at an odd angle.
Song opens her wings and takes off while being thrown, suddenly getting a new idea.
She tries to distract the attention of Windrazor and tried to bring the Predacon closer to Hun-Gurr.
Lightshift answered.
“Yes?”
“So… Uhm… Bad news… Which one of you went in search of Broadwing?”
“I was wondering if you had something for Venture here.” Zepar said, “She has volunteered to join the away team and I have a feeling you may be able to outfit her with some useful equipment.”
Windrazor roars as it continues to rampage through the laboratory, and Hun-Gurr attacks Brainpan, lunging at the helicopter, who ducks out of the way. Hun-Gurr’s fist instead sweeps through the restraints holding the yellow, two-headed predacon, Twinstrike, to its operating table.
“I most certainly can!” Thrift exclaims, throwing open a hatch on the side of his ship to reveal shelves of bizarre and haphazardly-constructed weaponry.
Sidestep transformed and walked towards Greasemoney and Topside.
“Hey!” He called, waving. “I’m lookin’ for a spy. Got anything that’ll help? Information?”
Topside shakes his head.
“Unfortunately,” he says sadly, “I know about as much about everyone’s least favorite thorn in our sides as I reckon everyone else on the ship does.”
“Which is to say, ‘not much’, sir?” Greasemonkey assumes
“Hm. Well, can I take a look around?”
“Feel free, sir,” Greasemonkey invites SideStep as he re-calibrates the transwarp drive.
“Thanks. And there’s no need to call me sir.”
SIdestep began to walk around, looking for something suspicious.
“Very well, sir,” Greasemonkey wryly replies.
There was nothing to be found around the main reactor-transwarp drive assembly; Greasemonkey’s scrutiny would have sniffed out any bugs or other nefarious devices planted by the spy here. The Engineering bay was vast, however, with plenty of other spaces the spy could have hidden a base or listening device. Towers hanging down from the ceiling contained the engineers’ hab-suites, and Broadwing’s nest had been left untouched since his death.
Zepar motions for Venture to take a look, see what items catch her interest.
Venture picks up a weapon which looked like five different guns hastily bolted around a heavy blaster cannon ripped off a starship. Its functionality was… dubious.
“Good eye, good eye!” Thrift congratulates Venture. “Made that one myself! Don’t let looks fool ya; it packs a punch, heheh…”
Zepar asks if he could look it over, having some familiarity with heavy weapons. He clearly meant no offense but he did remember that the cracked grenade situation was either by the providence of Primus or all the luck of Cybertronian peoples past and present.
Venture hands the home-made weapon to Zepar.
Thrift’s craftsmanship was hardly that of a professional weapons-smith, like Salvo, but there was an unmistakable and surprising element of genius in the way that the junkion had cobbled the different guns all together into a single instrument of destruction. A method to the madness, if you will.
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“Impressive.” He said, very carefully handing it back to Venture. “It seems it may come in handy in a pinch.” He said.
“It most certainly will!” promises Thrift.
Venture takes the weapon, handling it gingerly as if to avoid setting it off.
“You’ve tested it?” He asked.