“Four-undred fifty,” Facelift decides, snapping his fingers.
“And how will we go about that?” Lurch asks angrily, waving his arms around. “There’s nothing here!”
“This is getting a lot more expensive than I thought it’d be.”
She grumbled. Fishing out the appropriate amount of currency and unceremoniously handing it off to Facelift.
“Can I go now?”
While everyone else was distracted, Broadwing picked up the blue key and admired it. The way it shined and glowed. It was beautiful. He transformed into beast mode and flew out of the room.
“And another thing!”
Brieg continued, stopping short when he noticed a techno-organic abomination flying overhead.
“Hey, hey WAIT! He took the key! Stop him! Stop that animal!”
“Of course!” Facelift says. “Our business is concluded. If Primus be willing- and not dead within the month- we will hopefully do this again.”
The moment Broadwing takes the Blue Omega Key out of its spot in th Conflux, the statue of Atlantis, the Blue Knight, stows his sword and kneels. The cyan lights dotting the chamber’s machinery fade away, and the holo-map spanning the whole of the room begins to ■■■■■ again. The Allspark holograms throughout Salvation flicker briefly, before righting themselves again.
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Zepar and Garand immediately give chase to Broadwing.
“Yeah well its been a…”
She wanted to say pleasure, but that would be dishonest.
“… Thing.”
She walked out and called for her insecticon companion. Click came to her and happily climbed up on to her shoulder. The two then walked out of the hive.
Brieg transformed into beast mode and gave chance. Broadwing flew canonically through the halls of the Salvation. Making his way to Shockwave’s lab. He came barreling through the entrance, tumbling and crashing into some equipment. The key still tightly clenched in his claws.
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“Take care!” Facelift shouts after her. “Ow reservoir, as the humans say!”
Shockwave jumps up from his workstation.
“Imbecile!” he shouts at Broadwing. “I am conducting a delicate procedure, and your carelessness may very well have caused-”
The cyclops suddenly stops as he gets a better look at the newcomer, instantly recognizing the Decepticon and his own botched handiwork.
“…Impossible…”
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SideStep turned towards Lurch.
“Maybe because you aren’t thinking about anything. Are you the spy? Have you been the one relaying information to the Heretics?”
“I’ve already told you: no!” Lurch insists. “Surely, there must be some way to show you that in here…”
The barkeep begins to look around, searching for some clues as to how to get more use out of the neural link amid the endless expanse.
“You suuure?” Sidestep asked, sidling up to Lurch and staring at him intently.
“Nothing about our location or our intentions?”
The lines of light in the sky begin to pulse and ■■■■■ between various shades of blue and red, reflecting Lurch and SideStep’s brainwave activity as the two began to converse.
“I imagine Bludgeon already knows the latter,” Lurch scoffs. “We only broadcast it to everyone in the imperium for the last five years.”
“But you’re sending him our location so that he can follow us, right?” SideStep said, scowling. “You’re probably being offered a great amount of money, or perhaps something else you want.”
The scene suddenly begins to change, the flat expanse shifting into a courtyard somewhere in Kaon, the Decepticon capitol. Lurch turns to see himself standing on a podium, a crowd of black-clad soldiers watching as Megatron himself presented the barkeep with a purple and gold medal in the shape of the Decepticon insginia.
“For his exemplary service to the Decepticon Empire, it brings me great honor to bestow upon Infiltration Specialist Lurch of Cybertron this medal of commendation!” the Emperor of Destruction rasps, placing the prize in the figmen-Lurch’s talons. The real Lurch is bewildered, watching as the Patch’s simulation software brings this fantasy to life.
“That’s what you were promised, eh?” SideStep grinned. “Or are you remembering what brought you to Bludgeon?”
Lurch shakes his head.
“No,” he says, the venom in his voice receding slightly. “None of this ever happened…”
“Lurch is the very model of courage and loyalty to the Decepticon cause!” the figment-Megatron proclaims. “Walking among our most hated enemies, far from the safety of his comrades, the intelligence he has gathered has secured us victory, time and again, against Ultra Magnus and the accursed Autobots!”
“It’s nothing,” denied Blight. “Really.” He looked between Juliana and Caedia. “So, um, I guess you guys know each other now.”
Caedia squinted at Juliana. The glare could have been out of judgement, anger, boredom, or fascination, it was hard to read. “I guess we do.”
Sidestep chuckled.
“Sounds like he’s advocating for my case, Lurch. Better tell me the truth before you get in trouble.”
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“It’s nothing!” Lurch snaps, irritated and embarrassed. "Just an old daydream of mine, is all…
“I was a spy. For Soundwave, almost two hundred years ago now. Earning Megatron’s praises was my ambition; I’d see myself in the courtyard before his keep- this place- and imagine finally earning the recognition I wanted…”
“Maybe you’re achieving this dream by spying for Bludgeon.”
Lurch shakes his head.
“No,” he denies quickly. “Bludgeon’s a traitor. A fanatic. He’s been planning this for decades, I imagine, waiting for the right moment to muster his forces and break off. Annihilate his enemies both Autobot and Decepticon and take his place as ‘Primus’s chosen’ or whatever he’s calling himself these days…”
“But you’d make a lot of money and get approval for your, might I say, superb spying skills, right?” SideStep said. “If you worked for Bludgeon.”