Transformers: Salvation

“Yep!” Sprocket happily confirms. “They did!”


Grommet charges a modest fee of 100 shanix.

Zepar gives him the money, “Thanks.” He said as he left.

“Let’s get this done then.” Sidestrike said.

“Well how are we going to do that?” Techwarp asked. “Like are we going to push this thing towards the hangar?” he asked Sprocket.

Grommet politely waves goodbye as he leaves.


“They’ll be sending teams to take care of that, I’m sure,” Sprocket says.

“Alright,” Techwarp said waiting as so did the others.

Ironsight lifted the plasma rifle to the countertop. “Don’t need this no more. However, I’d like to purchase something else in its stead.”

Zepar begins wandering around the ship.

Scrapshot continues the motion of his leg, raising his leg into the for of a drop kick and drops it at the drone.


“I agree. Talking is a much better change of pace, compared to the war. I may be a neutral when it comes to politics, but I had my own duties that were just as dangerous as the gun fire. How long have you been a bartender?”

Teams soon arrive to help guide the derelict into hangar thirty-one.


“Sure,” says Salvo. “Watcha need?”


Throughout Salvation, the crew was preparing for an imminent transwarp jump.


The drone is sent sprawling, before springing to its feet and slashing with its baton.


“Since the truce,” Halfrunner says. “Four years ago, I was just kind of a… drifter, I guess. Me and a small band of other neutrals traveled around, trying to stay out of the war.”

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“Um, would you mind if I joined the effort into helping you guys out with gathering information, as a fellow scientist this is quite fascinating.” Sidestike told Sprocket.

“There’s a lot this ship could give us,” Sprocket says. “Some help would be nice.”

“Yes I’d be happy to help.” Sidestrike said. “Right, Squad Leader?” he asked Magnobolt.

“Yeah, sure.” Magnobolt approved.

“Alright it is settled, I can’t wait to help you guys out.” Sidestrike said excited.

Scrapshot dodges, trying to get under the baton, so he could position himself to throw the drone by grabbing the arm and throwing it over his shoulder. Like a judo move.


“From lost drifter to simple bartender, that’s certainly a humble change considering what most have gone through. I’m guessing there’s a lot more to this story then what you’re telling me.”

Sprocket gives a hasty thumbs-up as he continues working, eventually removing his device from the console.

The ancient ship is guided into the enormous thirty-first hangar of the CFC Salvation, and the massive docking cradle within closes around the derelict. The clamps are ill-fitting, being designed for more modern vessels, however they would do until modifications were made to better accommodate the craft.


This attempt is successful.


“Not really,” Halfrunner says. “It wasn’t as… glamorous or exciting as you’re making it sound. We just went wherever the war wasn’t, doing some business with folk to keep our ship fueled and the energon supply stocked.”

“I haven’t seen any of those guys since the cease-fire was called,” Halfrunner reflectively notes. “I wonder what they’re all doing now…”

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“Guess were back home.” Magnobolt said.

“Alright so are we done here?” Paradox asked Sprocket.

“Got anything… larger? Perhaps something LMG sized?”

Scrapshot attempts to throw the robot over his shoulder and slam the drone into the ground. Something inside told him that this was not enough compared to the radical decepticons that had invaded them, that decepticon, he believes was Lockdown, it would definitely match what he heard about the bot in pure presence alone.


Daria comments,
“I think we all wonder where the one we left behind are. I used to be part of a group that sold weapons, decent ones at that. We took what we could and made out freedom from the war that way, though I know a few from that group that had their spark extinguished when they were selling said weapons. Honestly I don’t care about what side believes what. I just can’t trust either side from my experience. I guess in that sense I was a drifter like you.”

“For now,” Sprocket says, pulling the datadisk out of the console.


Salvo nods.

“I’ve got some x-12-s in stock that I think will be to your liking,” she says.


This attempt would be successful. The drone swiftly recovers, however, leaping at Scrapshot and swiping the baton at the bot.


Halfrunner shrugs.

“Something in common, then,” he notes. “That’s neat.”

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Scrapshot was a little taken by his success that he faltered when the drone attacked. This time he wasn’t as prepared and he would try to block it with his left arm. He nearly used his weapons, good thing he remembered not to.


“I find commonality to be a good thing. I feel it’s easier to enjoy the company if they’re somewhat like yourself What about you?”

The baton connects with Scrapshot’s left forearm, administering a mild electric shock as it does so.


“Maybe,” responds Halfrunner. “But I also like meeting different folk. You get new perspectives on things, and whatnot.”