The shield would offer Gatecrasher and Daria a moment of protection. So powerful were the beams that they would quickly overload the energy shield, causing it to shatter.
The flames lap harmlessly off Nova Prime and his cannons. Still, it draws the Prime’s attention. Ceasing his attack on Daria and Gatecrasher, he whips around to face his new opponent, the cannons around him following his movements. Nova fires a single beam of energy at Wildsong. The shot, would it connect, would be most likely lethal.
“I won’t stop you…” Forcep says, gazing up at the enemy ships, his metal brow furrowed.
Salvo hadn’t followed Delta out of the control room. She was elsewhere in the city, no doubt ready for battle.
Actaeon would get his new shield ready. He transforms into his space-fighter altmode and soars towards the Heretics’ ships. It was better to strike now then to wait for the enemy to strike first.
Driftburn wanders around the halls looking for himself, when he hears Scrapshot muttering alone in a room. He came in on hearing Scrapshot calling himself the “real fake”.
Driftburn huffs aloud alerting Scrapshot if his presence,
“I was thinking the same. I’m the real fake… but seeing your sorry aft-pipe makes me question our conclusions.”
“So what do you suggest?”
Driftburn smiles walking into the room,
“Starting now, we’re both real, neither of us is the fake… so let’s protect this key from those heretics… Big brother would’ve done the same.”
Scrapshot raises a brow ridge,
“Would he? He was extremely dedicated to the decepticon cause… although he was honorable when dealing with us. We really didn’t know that much about him. There’s a chance that if he was still alive that-”
Driftburn grabs Scrapshot and lifts him to his feet,
“Then who am I? Am I not what we thought what we knew of our brother? I honestly doubt that he would betray us like that, but we both know he’s dead. We both saw it…”
Scrapshot backs off,
“Fine… We both will live as if we’re both real, but at the end of the day we might become one, like we used to be and when that happens, I doubt the both of us will be around.”
Scrapshot looks at the key,
“Our current objective is to protect this key at all costs. We aren’t a triple-changer anymore, heck we can’t even transform… so we’ll need each other to protect this key…”
Driftburn nods and readies his weapons.
Daria completely calm throughout this occasion points her Big Stick at Nova Prime and pulls a different trigger, partly hoping that chaos-rift combuster would come into play. She comments to Gatecrasher, “Good save.”
A cannon on either side of Nova Prime takes aim at Wildsong, firing simultaneously.
It just so happened that trigger was for the rift combuster. The clusterbombs litter the platform on which Nova stood and explode, shrouding the Prime in fire and smoke. Unfortunately, depending on how close Zepar and Wildsong were, they may have been hurt as well (@Toa_Vladin@BlackBeltGamer98)
“On the ship,” Forcep replies.
“Yeah?” Salvo’s voice crackles through the comlink.
“This’d better be important.”
A storm of plasma from one of the attack crafts’ weapons races toward Actaeon. Designed to pierce the hulls of Autobot warships, this weapon and its munitions could make short work of one bot.
Those on the ground below could hear the harsh buzz of the weapon in the sky above.
On the beach, Salvo had taken charge of a small force of allies, who had set up amongst the rocks.
Salvo looks up, listening to the gunfire echoing from above.
“They’re shooting at something,” she says. “Long as it’s not us, we should be good.”
The shield would offer little protection- only enough to perhaps just save Actaeon from certain death as the plasma overloads and destroys the energy shield in a great explosion. Actaeon would not escape without great injury.
The blade sinks into Nova’s hand, eliciting an annoyed growl from the Prime as he draws his arm back.
The smoke clears to reveal Nova standing on the platform, his armor bearing a plethora of dents and scorch marks from the explosions. The injuries gave off a strange blue-green glow.
“I was hoping to get another moment or two before I had to slaughter you all,” he growls.
“Oh, well. I guess if there’s one thing I’ve learned after a million years of unending torment, it’s that you can’t have everything you want…”
“Now can we attack?!” Lurch shrieks.
“That’s as good an invitation as any!” Topside quips. In one fluid motion, he deploys his rifle from his forearm and opens fire.
In the control room, the miniature of the island shifts to display the transformed city below, and projects holograms of the enemy warships above Salvation.
Nova Prime’s feathers split apart into cannons again. One takes aim at Spectrum, and another at Zepar. Another swivels around to aim at Topside, who’s fire went almost unnoticed by the Prime. The cannons fire.
Lurch, Thrift, and Grommet fire their weapons in kind, sending a missile, a blast from a gauss cannon, and a volley of corrosive slime at Nova. ■■■■■■■■■■■■ and Shockwave ready their cannons as the pilgrims in the room remain indecisive for a moment longer.
Facelift sets Sidewinder down on a table and transforms into his tank mode.
A series of muffled cracks! and booms! echo from the sky overhead. The clouds above the island suddenly turn a deep shade of orange as a hailstorm of plasma blasts and missiles rains down from the Twenty-sixth Fleet. Throughout the city, various self-appointed leaders shout at their subordinates to take cover, or to open fire as the battle begins.
The enemy ordnance crashes down upon the sea, the beaches, and the cliffs, sending up waves of boiling water, bursts of shattering rock, and plumes of fire. Streams of stone and techno-organic plants tumble down from the tall cliffs, striking Salvation, the spaceport, and the pilgrim’s city below. Some of the barrage strikes the Fleetcarrier and the platforms around it, causing more debris to rain down upon the city.
Bludgeon watches the barrage run its course from one of the Armageddon’s hangars. He was… disappointed, having hoped that his adversaries would have had something more than whatever sorry excuse for a defense that this was.
Beside the warlord, Banzaitron, his student, points down at the stretch of water between the cliffs. Through the mayhem, Salvation could be seen in her dismantled state, with many of her components now engulfed in flame.
“What’s up with that?” he wonders.
“Curious, indeed,” Obsidian drawls, hovering behind him. “Though at the moment, it seems to provide us with yet another tactical advantage. If the Salvation’s weapons were operational, our enemies would no doubt be making use of them now.”