Outside the derelict, Salvation could be seen beginning to gather speed as she cut through the void, retreating from the Twenty-sixth fleet. A few of the loose anchor cables dangle off her side as she flies, and smoke and debris drifts from multiple injuries she'd sustained in the prolonged skirmish. Already, a shimmering haze was beginning to surround the Fleetcarrier as her transwarp drive kicked into action. Crackling blue blots of reality-rending energies shoot out from the haze at random, one striking the starboard side of the derelict and severing one of the cruiser's arms.
And just in time, too. The window that any outbound heroes had to return to Salvation was quickly closing.
The two captains turn their heads.
The Decepticon nods.
"Well... I suppose so," she awkwardly agrees.
Deck 1's medical bay was packed with wounded bots- Autobots, Decepticons, and neutrals. The medics were all busy, however a tiny diagnostic drone hovers over.
"I'm sorry," it says in a synthesized, feminine voice, "but all personnel in the Deck 1 medical facility are currently preoccupied. May I be of assistance?"
It subtly bobs up and down in midair, waiting for a response.