Salvation: Part II

“Shouldn’t we wait till we get Song back to do this operation?”

Redstocker thanked, before turning to car mode and driving to Hangar 30, searching for Juliana.

“Oh… Then I think I don’t want to know.”

Facelift turns back around.

“We could,” he supposes.

“Oh, now you agree with me,” the female guard remarks.

A clattering sound echoes through the vents in the tunnel’s ceiling.

“How do you even know about her plan?”

“Is that normal?”

Juliana tosses him the Shanix.

GC picks up the spear and puts it wherever TF’s weapons magically disappear to when they’re not in use.

If she was still in hangar 30, Juliana might see Redstocker in his robot mode searching for her.

“Oh, she was kind enough to fill me in after letting Obsidian use me for target practice,” Facelift says ruefully.

“Hey, did you see Obsidian during the battle?” he asks, going off on a tangent. “He and Strika got a heck of a makeover. Y’know, as unpleasant as it was being on the receiving end of their new toys, I do have a professional admiration for the skill of their surgeon, whoever they may be. I couldn’t’ve done a better job myself!”



“…Okay, who am I kidding; I totally could’ve.”

Thrift catches the shanix in his hand, before looking down as he spies Redstocker enter the hangar.

“Oh?” he reacts, intrigued. “Do mine eyes deceive me, or did Lieutenant Dan get new legs?”

“I’ll reckon that’s Mutt,” the female guard says, looking up at the ducts.

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Gronius raised an eyebrow.

“Then we better get back to Thunderblast.”

Blight, cheerful but also rather tired, skipped the entire way to his suite, not even caring that a despairing Pixel was tagging along with him. The only thing that would be able to dampen his spirits was-

“Blight, we need to talk,” Caedia interrupted.

“Wow,” sighed Blight. “Ya know, I don’t really want to be mad at you right now, some I’m just going to-”

“I want us to talk.”

Blight turned around, and blinked his eye. “Okay,” he frowned. “What about?”

“I know you won’t,” she confessed, sounding rather dismal. “You won’t forgive me, I get it. You left your dream for me, and I turned my back on you. But I just want you to know that I had to. What the Decepticons did for me- Blight, it saved my life. I needed it. And I always intended to come back, but-”

“But you didn’t,” he sulked. “I waited, and you never did.”

Caedia nodded, disappointed with something. Herself, probably. “I had a debt to repay. I fought for them, as their weapon, soldier, I don’t know, but certainly not as an individual.”

“Why, Caedia?” Blight wondered. “Why are you so intent that we repair our relationship? We’re going to save the world, and then it’s back to the war. We’ll go back to killing each other’s friends, if we’re lucky enough to avoid killing each other.”


“You said it yourself, you have a debt to repay.”

“I’m resigning. After this.”

Blight narrowed his eye. “Nuh-uh.”

“Yes. I mean it, Blight. I’m going to discover who I am as a person, and I can’t do that while slaughtering Autobots.”

“And you want me to resign too.”


“Caedia, I have a job. Like, a job where I can do what I like to, help people. I don’t know if I can give that up for someone who could leave me again.”

“Alright. That’s fine. I just wanted to know what your answer was.”

Pixel, who had previously been watching from a distance, now crawled up onto Blight’s shoulder and sat on top. He quizzically stared at the sister, unsure what to make of her.

A subtle smile grew in Caedia’s eyes. “He’s cute.”

“Yeah, sure,” growled Blight. “You think that at first. But he’s probably my least favorite person on this ship.”

Pixel hugged Blight’s head, coercing a snicker from Caedia. Blight wouldn’t admit it, be he missed her low, singsong laugh.

“You seem to be his favorite,” she chuckled. “I bet you get a lot of attention because of him.”

Blight leapt back. “Or maybe I’m just, I don’t know, a kind of cool guy? Sometimes?”

“Why are you getting so defensive, Blight?” she questioned.

Blight didn’t answer.

“I suppose you can be alone, now.”

Still nothing.

“I enjoyed this,” Caedia finally said, and turned away, disappearing around a corner.

Blight stood very still, unsure of what had just happened. “Huh.”

King-Quan just exits his room from a very long nap. He didn’t know how much he was in status or if he missed anything too important.

He groaned slightly, bringing his hand on his forehead as he shook it lightly. “How long have I been out?” He muttered to himself, as the tall warrior walked through the halls.

His shield attached on his back, he wasn’t in combat mode so they were neatly tucked into the Vanguard, almost as if they weren’t there in the first place.

One thing he could remember though, before tapping out, he was helping the little people of Salvation, with the other battles that have happened. Though after that is a blank spot, he must have been very tired.

Either way, King-Quan is ready to step into some action and make a difference.

“Before everybody called me the Butcher of Tetrahex,” Facelift explains with much pride, “my partner and I were on the team that put Megatron back together after Metroplex punched him halfway across Gigantion. And for Project: Trypticon I-… actually, forget I said that; that’s top-secret.”

King-Quan may have noticed a new addition to his hab-suite: built into a wall beside a computer terminal was a round compartment shielded by an orb of glass, in which floated a hologram of a bright cybertronian spark.

“No kidding,” the female guard agrees.

King-Quan walked towards it, noticing the slight change. He was impressed, he wondered if there was more than let the eye see with this new addition.

A holo-screen materializes above the glass, displaying vital statistics of what was presumably the spark depicted in the hologram. Most of the data seemed garbled- the screen was cluttered with nonsense interspersed with verses from The Covenant of Primus written in cyberglyphics. All that could be discerned was that the spark this machine was monitoring was powerful, but dying. Over the course of a few short weeks, it would burn out.

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“Oh no…” He muttered. “Is there something I could do…” He talked to himself as he reached out with his hand to take it. “Perhaps the Captains cna prevent it from dying…” King-Quan wanted to learn more about the nonsensical interpreted verses from The Covenant of Primus.

The verses on the screen were particularly concerned with Primus and the Allspark, referencing the Creator’s love of life and his spark’s function as the core of Cybertron, as well as the heart of the Well of All Sparks.

King-Quan reads them and he could relate to them. So he takes this spark and walks towards the Bridge, where normally the Captains of the Salvation ship would be.

You worked on Trypticon?”

Song nodded, before going forward, leaving the area.

The hologram of the spark was unreachable behind the glass.

“As a matter of fact, I did,” Facelift says. “I was an assistant to Scalpel and- hey! I told you to forget I said that!”

Trypticon was indeed a source of great mystery for many. Once the capitol city of the colony world of Chaar, the Decepticons had sealed off Trypticon as part of a secret project that Autobot spies had been largely unable to glean information on. Many Decepticons were in the dark as to what was happening in the city, even.

The two guards follow.

King-Quan thought of a better idea. He proceeds as he decided, going towards the Bridge, hopefully the Captains would be there.

“I have a request.” He said as he entered the room.

“Well the war is over, at least for now. Old secrets don’t really matter anymore.”

A timeskip later, Song would enter in the medbay where she left Thunderblast.
OOC: Is it OK if I use timeskips like that?

On the bridge, Topside and ■■■■■■■■■■■■ stand apart from each other amidst the commotion of fourty-odd bots manning their stations, each doing their part to lift Salvation higher into the sky. The large, slanted windows at the front of the room were entirely blue as the Fleetcarrier rocketed above the clouds.

The two captains turn at King-Quan’s approach.

“What do you need?” ■■■■■■■■■■■■ asks. His tone and demeanor were cold, but not outright hostile.

Facelift shakes a finger at Gronius.

“Megatron would be inclined to disagree,” he says.

Thunderblast had since left the med-bay. Outbreak watches as his subordinates work, glowering behind his mask.

OOC: I’d prefer if you didn’t.