Maké counts down on his fingers, ‘3…2…1’ then a thumbs up.
Every screen in the Commonwealth not gaurded by excessive security changed to an image of haliaetus’s face, “attention Cybertronians, 20 million years ago the war ended and the Commonwealth began, unfortunately under it’s rule our race has become weak, and the enimies made during the war have become stronger than ever. If nothing is done our race will die. But I offer a solution. Let us become kings over the other races, let us rule for it is our destiny. Over throw the Commonwealth that seeks to keep us weak, rise up! assert our dominance! when the war was started Megatron threw off the shackles of false gods, and now you need to rise so that you can claim your birthright!” He declared
Swing spies the convoy, but does not pay too much attention to it. Some fellow Cybertronians (species) wave at him to join their game, but Swing denies the invitation.
Swingstep could always follow the convoy. If he did not wish to do so, he could try and brave the gale surounding the Pillar of Rust, or find a ship and visit the other worlds in the Commonwealth.
The gestalt and his entourage file out, and the Targetmaster points to the oddly-shaped craft beyond the city limits.
“See that?” he asks the group. “You guys know what that is?”
Preferring not to stray too far from his home inside a ruined battleship, Swingstep decided to follow the convoy. He shifted into his eco-friendly golf cart mode, and chased after it.
“That, my fellow little’uns, is a colony ship,” the targetmaster informs them. “The Knights of Cybertron used eight of them to cyberform uninhabited planets, then they’d land the ship and start settling the new colony.”
“Is there a point to this infodump?” the gestalt groans.
“The point is, that’s the place I’ve been trying to tell you guys about- the place where we could get some better weapons. The Knights might’ve left us a veritable treasure trove of golden age tech.”
“If we’re doing this, we’re gonna need to bring along some energon,” the techno-organic advises. “That thing’s been sitting there since the end of the first war; it’s most definitely out of juice at this point.”
There was enough Energon in the worldsweeper to power the interior defenses for another month, but that was about it.
Professional archaeologists had relieved Four-wheel and Quarry and were now examining the Tomb of the Primes. The three automaton Knights that Shifter had disabled were on their way to a laboratory.