Scorchlock walked towards them, noticing a spherical doorway at the end of the long hall. “What’s up?” He asked them, as he got in front and glanced at the door.
King-Quan arched his metal-eyebrow before going towards the Sentinel. “Greetings.” He said with opened arms.
“Trying to get through this door,” Redstocker says gruffly.
“But, surprise surprise, blasting it with a shotgun is proving ineffective,” Alterion deadpans.
The sentinel draws its sword and strikes a battle-ready stance.
“Leave this place!” it commands, shouting in Ancient Cybertronian.
Scorchlock glanced at the door before he took is ion rifle out. “Step aside.” He warned as he pointed the rifle at the door and began to fire at it.
King-Quan rose his hands, showing a specific body language that would let the Sentinel know he wasn’t a threat. “At ease, warrior.” King-Quan spoke in that very Ancient Cybertronian with a certain accent to it, just because he hasn’t spoken in that language for quite some time.
Epsilon nods, “Interesting.” He said.
The blasts leave sizable scorch marks upon the ancient metal, but beyond that, the door does not yield.
The sentinel lowers his sword.
Sprocket nods his head enthusiastically.
“Yeah, it is” he says excitedly. “I’ve seen stuff like this on Artemis before, but handheld energon harvesters are pretty hard to come by.”
Scorchlock sighed as he glanced at them. “Is there no other way to open up that baby?” He asked, as he arching his metal-eyebrow.
“Why wouldn’t you…grant us passage through…?” King-Quan asked the Sentinel.
Redstocker shakes his head.
“Not unless we get a bigger gun, maybe,” he suggests.
“If the ship had power, we could get it open,” Delta speculates, “but I don’t think this wreck’s had so much as a drop of energon in its tanks for ages.”
“You are not worthy,” the sentinel asserts. “Only those who bear the mark may pass.”
“I think so?” Thrust asked.
ooc: sorry, I was out for a week[quote=“Chromeharpoon, post:6899, topic:49995”]
King-Quan would happen upon SideStep, captain ■■■■■■■■■■■■, and Breakswitch as they stand before a doorway built into the base of a mountain, trying in vain to converse with a hard-light sentinel guarding the gateway.
“Ba-weep graaanahg weep ni no bong,” the sentinel repeats in its gravelly, rumbling voice.
“Yes, yes, we know!” Breakswitch groans, rolling her pink eyes.
[/quote]
SideStep exaggeratedly nods. “Yes! We get it!”
Scorchlock had an idea, but it revolved in risking one of his grenades for it. “I got something that can pack the punch.” He took one of Shockwave’s experimental grenades. “I just need to know if, we are out of options or not. They weren’t cheap.” The fellow Wrecker said.
King-Quan appeared to be confused at first, how were they not worthy? They were risking their lives every day to find the four keys of the Omega Lock. "Tell me…Warrior. " King-Quan began. “How does one…requier…this mark you speak of?” He asked.
“If you do not have it,” the sentinel replies, “then you are not worthy.”
“What is it saying?” ■■■■■■■■■■■■ asks King-Quan.
SideStep glanced at King-Quan.
“You can understand it?”
Atlantis nods his head solemnly.
“Very good,” he says. The far wall of the chamber begins to ■■■■■, revealing a lift beyond.
“Proceed, then,” the echo bids the party, gesturing toward the lift.
“But I don’t know…what this mark is…of which you speak of.” King-Quan gestured with his hands as he talked to the sentinel. “Tell me…what the mark…is.” He said.
King-Quan glanced at ■■■■■■■■■■■■, his optic going back to the corner of his right eye, before looking back at the sentinel. “He is speaking in a very ancient cybertronian dialect.” He said. “I know this because I come from Caleum.” He mentioned. “While I do have a certain accent and it isn’t as fluent. I still get my point across. And he is talking about the ‘mark’ and if you don’t have it, you are not worthy to be granted passage. However…I don’t know what the ‘mark’ is. So I’m trying to find that out.”
“Yes. Yes, I do.” King-Quan affirms.
The sentinel raises its right arm, revealing a disk-shaped device attached to its wrist.
“A knight’s talisman,” ■■■■■■■■■■■■ observe’s looking at the sentinel’s device.
“Great,” Breakswitch sardonically groans. " 'Cause they put everything but a museum aboard Salvation…"
“Unless we can get the ship powered up somehow, I don’t think there’s anything else we can do,” Delta says.
“Here goes my money out of the window,” Scorchlock said as he activated the grenade and threw it, as he ran to take cover, the explosion it would give, should be big enough to blast the door open.
King-Quan looked at ■■■■■■■■■■■■ as he said that and then at Breakswitch. “No need to be hasty,” King-Quan said as he glanced at the sentinel. “How does one find the mark?” He asked. “And how does one become…worthy…?”
“Hey!” Alterion shouts. Scorchlock hadn’t given his companions enough warning or time for them to escape the blast radius of the grenade. The white orb clicks, and panels on its surface snap open as it emits a wave of greenish-blue energy that washes over Alterion, Redstocker, Delta, and the hall around them.
“If you do not have it,” the sentinel repeats, “you are not worthy. Now leave.”
The sentinel draws its sword again.
Once the explosion was done, he moved his head up from the cover. “Everyone alright?” He asked.
King-Quan sighed as he looked at ■■■■■■■■■■■■. “The Sentinel is stubborn. He claims we are not worthy.” He mentioned. “Then again…what must one do to be defined as worthy…and where does one find a talisman-like that one?” He wondered aloud.
“You frakking moron!” Alterion berates the Wrecker. “Maybe, before you chuck a grenade in an enclosed space, you oughtta- holy Primus I’m okay!”
The detective ceases his raving as he suddenly realizes he, along with Redstocker and Delta, hadn’t been blasted into slag.
“Like I said, in a museum,” Breakswitch says. “That’s Golden Age tech.”
Scorchlock stood up and dusted himself. “Wrecker Fact 19: The door is always gonna have to be blown up.” He said with a smirk on his face, ignoring the fact that they haven’t been blasted into slag. “Well…at least tell me the door is destroyed.” He glanced at it to see if it worked.
“Do we have a museum?” King-Quan asked.
The door was not destroyed. In fact, the hallway was no worse for wear than when it had been before Scorchlock threw the grenade- like it hadn’t even gone off. The grenade itself was sitting on the floor, its flaps open and the conduits beneath them powerless.
Breakswitch shakes her head.