Garand nods, “Yes.” He said, “I take it we are a very long way from Cybertron?”
Scorchlock sighed. “I swear, if this keeps up…I’ll blow a light pulp.” He said shaking his head. “Open the door so we can see what’s inside. After that, we can go to whatever the place it needs us to be.”
Salvo nods her head.
“You would not believe how far off the map we are, pal.”
“Very well,” obliges the figure. Gently nudging Scorchlock aside, he walks down the hall, his cloak billowing behind him as he draws a black rod from his back. Gripping the object in his right hand, he flicks his wrist, and two blades of plasmic energon flash into being at the end of the rod, held into shape by a quivering magentic field, causing the edges of the blades to flicker and appear frayed.
The ax sizzles as the figure gracefully swings the weapon at the door, and with a great crash blasts it into twisted, smoldering pieces.
“I’ve seen a lot in my lifetime.” Garand said, folding his arms.
Scorchlock whistles. “I gotta get me one of those…” Scorchlock said as he started to joke. He tapped the figure’s shoulder and glanced at the others. “Alright, let’s go inside!” He calls out as he went inside the door to see what great mysteries it held.
“So have I,” Salvo says, “and I reckon we’ll both see a heck of a lot more before this is all over.”
Delta and company follow Scorchlock as the mysterious figure proceeds ahead, deactivating his ax, disappearing into the darkness beyond.
Garand nods in agreement.
Scorchlock continued to jog inside, awaiting to see what they’ll discover.
“Anything else you need to be brought up to speed on?” Salvo asks him. “How long have you been in there?”
She waves a hand to the box.
The chamber beyond was pitch-black, though through the thin beams cast from their headlights, Scorchlock and company could make out the distant silhouettes of dilapidated machines and walkways; they had entered the cruiser’s central hub.
“Last thing I recall was the ship entering final preparations…then one of my students asking for help on something,” His tone suddenly darkens, “Then they revealed themselves to be Low Key right before shooting me with a stasis rifle.” He growled. He took a deep breath, “Next thing I remember is the darkness in that case for about a day or so then you destroyed the mode lock.”
“Primus, you’ve been out a while!” Salvo reacts. “You’ve missed a heck of a lot.”
Scorclock activated his flashlights. “Hey, mystery man?” He called out. “Can you tell where we are now? Or what these things are?” He asked.
As Scorchlock activated his lights, he would see that the Mystery Man had disappeared.
“Whoa…” Alterion reacts. “Where’d he bugger off to?”
“It appears I have.” He said.
Meanwhile, on Cybertron…
Low Key sat very uncomfortably in Father Sol’s office, “It was just-” he started before being cut off.
“A joke?” The Angelicon said, his tone showing he was trying to not yell. “Our best weaponsmaster is now far from Cybertron and we are just now finding out about it all because you wanted to play a prank on him.”
He took a deep breath, “Please give me a reason not to put you in a cell for the tenth time this year.”
“He is probably alive and I think the case I put him in was on Salvation and I think they’d have found him by now and he is helping them.” Low Key said, rather quickly and nervously.
A tense moment passes before Father Sol takes a deep breath and calls security, “Low Key is grounded and on probation until Salvation returns; this is not up for debate.” He said, that last part being directed to Low Key.
The shifter leaves the office to now be under constant surveillance and his wings were placed in a clamp and began his duties of helping get supplies to the Core Team trying to help sustain Primus. He muttered a prayer of thanks he was only put on probation and that Garand would forgive him for this little complication when he got back home.
Scorchlock opened his mouth, he was about to say something…or more likely shout so loud it would echo through and out of the ship. His right optic twitching as he closed his agape mouth. “This is why I hate mystery man…” He said with a frustrating tone as he turned around and would walk around the place, with his headlights serving as flashlights.
Salvo nods her head.
It was difficult to tell if the angelicon order’s efforts, while appreciated, were doing anything to keep the Allspark from decaying. Every day, it seemed, the lights of Cybertron’s core grew dimmer, and Wells of Sparks on every colony flickered out. Energon was beginning to run low on the outer worlds, and the Autobots and Decepticons were struggling to maintain their uneasy alliance. All they could do was wait, and hope that Salvation and her crew would return with the Omega Lock before it was too late.
Scorchlock could only see so far into the central hub, but from what he could see, it seemed just as powerless and decayed as the rest of the shipwreck. A few rusting corpses of cybertronian Knights were sprawled on the floor here and there, or slumped against columns of metal.
“Come on, Salvation, hurry up.” Low Key muttered as he helped secure various apparatuses to the core to try and slow the decay of the Allspark.
“Seeing as how I am stuck here and that you are likely the quartermaster,” He points to her rank insignia, “I think a tour of the ship and introduction to the captains is in order.” Garand said.
Zepar looks around the arena-like chamber for anything to interact with.
Those around Low Key- and throughout cybertronian space- whispered similar prayers as Primus drew ever nearer to death…
“Certainly,” Salvo obliges.
“For starters, you’re in the armory- though I’m sure you pieced that together already. Name’s Salvo, and you guessed by job aboard Salvation about right: I make sure all our Instruments of Destruction are maintained and put where they belong on the rare occasions when we’re not using them. Make a few extra shanix on the side selling ‘surplus stock’ to the crew, while I’m at it.”
Aside from the central console, the statues of Atlantis and Hyperborea knelt on opposite sides of the chamber, facing each other. They rested on identical swords, resembling the weapon mode that the Omega Key sometimes took. Bits of machinery poked out of the techno-organic earth: beams, pipes, grates, and round platforms with large, deep slits in their centers.
Garand nods he understood as his wings fold into his back, making a sort of backpack-like shape as they were now in storage configuration.
Zepar examines the platforms.
OOC: Just trying to have Zepar do something while waiting for meep to have the Splitter brothers respond.
Epsilon stays by Sprocket, ready to head out.
“We got a couple armories on each main deck,” Salvo continues. “A ship like this can hold a lotta cargo.”
The slits cut into the platforms looked like larger versions of the keyholes that were present on many ancient cybertronian structures our heroes had interacted with on their voyage thus far.