Several tall tanks lined the first floor of the lab, like the ones Facelift and Brainpan kept in their facilities, only cleaner and more advanced. Suspended in a lime-green fluid were various cybertronian techno-organs and mechanisms that had either been cloned or “donated” by prisoners and New Decepticons who had angered their masters.
“Right… Uhm… You there, go get me a voice box. You, you and you, you all try to see if you can swif the guy to his robot mode, or if you can reveal his robot mode head through the plating or something.” she said, as she pointed to the random scientists that she chose.
A timid Decepticon runs off to retrieve a new speech synthesizer, while Brainpan and two other assistants take control of two pairs of mechanical arms that begin to force the white, two headed predacon into robot mode. The process looked painful, and the beast twitches as the arms twist its parts into place.
Song approached the beast’s head.
“Wait, is he conscious? What’s his name?”
A holo-screen identified this predacon as Specimen Five, AKA Hun-Gur. Faint pinpricks of red light filled its optics, but the creature appeared only half-conscious, quickly slipping back into stasis lock.
“All right…” Song said, before taking all the needed utensils from (OOC: presumably) close by. “I am going to do a direct penetration in the back of his head via the mouth. That really is the fastest, but the ugliest method. Please… Uhm… If you don’t have resistant guts, don’t watch.” she said as she put some of her tools in Hun-Gur’s mouth and started doing her job.
Hun-Gurr jolts as Wildsong makes the incision, the lights in his optics brightening as they dart around the room. Several surgeons back away, some of them deploying weapons built into their forearms.
“Don’t worry big guy. Don’t worry.” Song said on a voice as protective, as motherly as she could, caressing his cheeks with one of her empty hands. “Don’t worry, it won’t take long. Don’t worry, I’ll be over soon.” she said, before looking at the surgeons as if saying ‘give me the voice box or I’ll let this thing on y’all’.
This did nothing to calm Hun-Gurr, it seemed, who strains against the claws pinning it to the table. The restraints whir and creak as the predacon’s strength threatens to overpower them, and the beast emits a threatening, throaty growl.
The other scientists were hesitant to approach Hun-Gurr, though Brainpan seemed unfazed, analyzing the data the New Decepticons had compiled on it and its fellows as if she didn’t even notice what was happening.
“Give me the box! Now!” Song yelled. “You couldn’t even fully anesthesiate him!”
“You were the one who couldn’t wait til it was in stasis to start cutting it open!” an assistant chides her, running over with the voicebox, but stopping short as Hun-Gurr wrenches its right arm free from its restraint. With a roar, the predacon lunges to grab Wildsong’s neck.
SideStep glanced out the nearest viewport to see where they were. [quote=“Chromeharpoon, post:6093, topic:49995”]
“Hm. Good to find another kindred spirit aboard,” ■■■■■■■■■■■■ remarks.
[/quote]
“You’d be surprised at how many times shooting first has saved me.” Sidestep chuckled.
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“I don’t believe I would,” ■■■■■■■■■■■■ replies jokingly. Around him, the bridge crew were gobsmacked: ■■■■■■■■■■■■ was not only casually conversing with another bot, but telling jokes? What kind of alternate reality had they found themselves in?
SideStep would be greeted by a view of a forest planet- nearly every mile of its landmass was covered in green, as far as one could tell from orbit. Adorning the irregularly-shaped continents were faint, circular designs similar to the ring-shaped patterns on Cybertron’s surface, worn with age and broken in places by the shifting of tectonic plates. These rings, and the cyberglyphs accompanying them, glow with a dark green aura, the same shade as the lights which had begun to gently flicker all throughout Salvation. Among the glyphs on the planet below was the divine light symbol:
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“That depends on if we can secure the prize before the Heretics do.” Zepar said. His tone went a little darker when he said ‘Heretics’ and it was evident he was trying to control it.
The pilgrim looks out the viewport, and sighting now New Decepticon ship bearing down upon Salvation says:
“Well, it looks like we beat them to it, so we’ve got a good shot at that, I’ll reckon.”
“How would you like to join us in retrieving this crucial artifact?” Zepar asks.
“I’d be honored,” the pilgrim says gratefully.
“I’ve been stuck on a glowing rock in the middle of nowhere for seven thousand years; I think I want to start playing a more active roll in deciding the fate of the universe.”
Zepar extends his hand, “Then I shall see if I can ask the captains to allow me to join an away team to acquire the artifact.” He tells the pilgrim.
He opens a comlink channel to the captains.
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The pilgrim shakes Zepar’s hand, smiling.
Both Topside and ■■■■■■■■■■■■ answer Zepar’s call.
“Zepar,” says Topside, “nice hearing from you again.”
“Yes, always a pleasure,” ■■■■■■■■■■■■ groans, clearly not meaning a word of it. “No doubt you’ve noticed we’ve arrived at the map’s coordinates.”
“Yeah. The big green marble that our ancestors seem to have doodled all over, right?” Topside quips.
“Yes, it is beautiful.” He said, “I was wondering if I could take an away team to retrieve the artifact as soon as possible.”