Scorchlock watched in fascination as he witnesses one of the deadliest weapons of the Great War coming back to life…only to have it be controlled by none other than Scorchlock’s hand…since he kind of lost the other one.
The warp cannon continues to charge.
“Greasemonkey to the bridge,” the Chief Engineer’s prim and proper voice could be heard coming from the communication’s console, “from the power fluctuations I’m reading down here in engineering, I’ll wager you have the warp cannon back online?”
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Scorchlock rose an eyebrow. “Scorchlock here.” He said through the communication console. “Yeah, you wager right, the warp cannon is slowly coming back online.”
“Finally” Laslow muttered, and continued his path to the bridge.
“Somewhere. Probably doing what he does best”
“Excellent work, sir,” Greasemonkey compliments Scorchlock. “It’s taxing the power core something awful, however; do be quick about this, please.”
Laslow would soon arrive on the bridge, where Scorchlock could be seen talking with Greasemonkey over the commlink.
“Let’s hope so!” the prisoner says as the dropship begins to pull away. “He saved my life back on Antilla!”
“I see…” He muttered when Greasemonkey said it is taxing the power core. “Once I got Nova locked on with the Warp Cannon’s tracker, I’ll blow him right back into the pit.” He said through the coms.
“What’s the status?” Laslow asked him. (@MichaelBT-7474)
“Antilla… not sure I remember that battle, but I’m sure he did. If you want to go see him, feel free.”
The other dropship departs, its pilot searching for Forcep.
“Sooo… where to now?” Sprocket asks Gatecrasher.
The Wrecker slyly glanced back at Laslow. “Uh, the Warp Cannon is operational.” He said. “But due to it being asleep for this time…it needs some time to recharge.” He looked at the percentage to see how much it was by now. (@Chromeharpoon)
“Well, I guess I’ll take who’s willing to go to the control tower and secure it and the omega key.” GC decided. “You can do what you want.”
OOC: Slyly?
“Figures! All that time I put into distracting Nova, putting it back together, and then running back here, you’d think it’d have the decency to be ready to go. Geez”
CHARGING... FOUR PERCENT CHARGED...
The holo-screen read.
Many of the prisoners disembark, ready to follow Gatecrasher.
“I’ll take this thing and see if I can land it in one of the hangars,” Sprocket says.
“Well, this is a weapon from the Great War so…” Scorchlock shrugged. “I say relax and wait till it’s charged.” He said, leaning back against the seat, getting himself comfortable.
“Though the process can be a lot faster than this snail pace.” He muttered.
“Right, and if you cant just bring it back here.” he then turns to the waiting prisoners. “Alright boys, we need to get to that tower, and protect that tower, got it?”
The warp cannon’s low, rumbling hum continues as the weapon charges at its slow pace. One could only hope that it picked up the pace before too long.
“Got it!” many of the prisoners reply.
“Come on…” He said. “Charge faster…we need you.”
Epsilon steps out of his hiding place and fires at Obsidian, hoping to hit him in the head.
Zepar immediately took flight as they neared the tower.
CHARGING... SEVEN PERCENT CHARGED... CHARGING...
-the console reads.
Obsidian had left the control tower, and was now fighting Nova with many of our heroes on the ground.
Grumbling, Lockdown reverts to robot mode, skidding to a halt as a long rifle barrel extends from his back, folding over his head as the weapon begins to hum…
The Splitter brothers thank Forcep, then transform and take off to find some enemies to attack.
SideStep swings his axe at the terrorcons.
Epsilon immediately checks on the Key before checking on the others.
Zepar tires to hide behind some rubble to wait for the right moment to attack Nova.
The biggest enemy would be Nova Prime. While four of his cannons shoot at Redstocker and company, the Prime himself hacks at our heroes’ allies with his sword in one hand, and blasts foes to pieces with the fusion rifle he held in the other.
The terrorcon is decapitated and staggers backward, clutching the bleeding stump at the end of its neck.
The Omega Key seemed unharmed, having remained within the control console.
Facelift was grumbling to himself as he mends his wounds.