Salvation: Part II

The replicas of Hyperborea and Atlantis had moved to the center of the arena, while two sentinels attacked Lightshift and Vigor, and Venture and Gronius charged at the giant automatons, cutting down biomechanical vines that sprung up from the earth to menace them.


Thrift scoots over an extends his right hand.

“Name’s Thrift of the Rings!” the junkion introduces himself. “Call me Thrift, though; everyone else does.”

OOC: So, the big ones have been removed form the equation?

IC: Zepar clambers up and pulls out the Talisman he had, wondering if it could help them in any way.


“Garand of Protihex, Angelicon Weapoonsmaster.” He replied.

OOC: for now, yeah. No-one’s fighting them at the moment.

IC:

The talisman was inert, and there didn’t appear to be anything for it to interact with in the arena.


“Y’know, I think I’ve heard a little about ya,” Thrift remarks.

Zepar descends and lets loose a torrent of violet flames at the vines to keep them at bay from the group, trusting the others to handle the sentinels.


“Oh?” Garand asked.

Venture and Gronius back away as the flames incinerate the vines.


“Yep,” Thrift confirms. “You teach the rest of your order how to handle themselves in a fight, from what I heard.”

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Zepar tries to keep the flames from getting too close to his friends.


“Yes, I do.” He said, “But, I think those particular duties of mine will need to be put on hold until after we return and heal the Creator.”

Lightshift ducked the energy bolt.
Thrust, who was up above in jet mode, transformed and clung to the wall above the two sentinels, aiming with his sniper rifle and firing at the dragon.

Venture and Gronius were safe- but not for long, as the Faux-Atlantis points the tip of his sword at the two, and a pair of Sentinels teleports around the NPCs, immediately thrusting their swords at them. However, the pilgrim and the Autobot looked like they wouldn’t fair too badly against the drones.

The bow-wielding Sentinel adjusts its aim, charging two bolts in its weapon before shooting at Lightshift again.

The dragon is shot through one of its wings, and it tumbles to the ground, crashing into the earth. @meepinater


Thrift nods, understanding.

“I bet you could put that knowledge to good use in our current situation, however,” the junkion says. “There ain’t never such thing as enough dakka, as they say…”

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Scorchlock rolled his eyes and turned back, walking the exact same passage from where he came through. Eventually, the Wrecker would exit the ship. “Now, to find the key…” He muttered to himself.


“Fascinating.” King-Quan expresses himself, as he didn’t waste and exit the lift as he glanced around the place. As he took in his surroundings, the sudden realization that this was a control room came to his mind as he went towards the main panel and began to read everything, wanting to see what this room was all about.

Delta, Alterion, and Scorchlock look around the plains, but there was little else of interest to see besides the shipwreck. Night was falling on this side of the planet, and the curtains of green light thrown up by the geoglyphs was now outshining what was left of the sun over the horizon.


The central console, which wrapped around the trap door the globe had sprung from, displayed a wealth of information. Defenses had been triggered at a facility the terminal called “the vaults”, and several thousand life signs were spreading out across the northern hemisphere of OL-2006-2-C- likely the search parties that Salvation had dispatched. Salvation herself had been locked in a tractor beam by the planet’s defenses, and anti-air weaponry was currently targeting the Fleetcarrier. The terminal indicated that another ship had also arrived on OL-2006-2-C, but the defenses had registered this second craft as a friendly.

■■■■■■■■■■■■ and Breakswitch wander around the control room, curiously studying the consoles and ancient machines, which had lain dormant for millions of years.

Garand gives a quizzical look at Thrift.


Zepar tries to get the faux-Atlantis to get to the platform and stab its sword into the slot, this time, planning to dive the moment he saw it move its sword toward him so as to not get teleported again.

“S-sorry,” Thrift says, shrinking. “It’s a terran thing. You know…”

Salvo shakes her head. “No, we don’t.”


The Faux-Atlantis turns his attention to Zepar, hefting his massive sword and running at the Angelicon, leaving shallow footprints in his wake.

The Faux-Hyperborea was, meanwhile, walking to another platform.

Zepar keeps his distance and an eye on faux-Hyperborea as he guides the faux-Atlantis to the second platform, ready to make a run for it when it tries to stab him.

OOC: Toro! Toro!..


“I’m not as familiar with Terran culture and slang as you are,” Garand said, “Care to clarify what you meant by ‘dakka’?” He asked.

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“We’ll need to get back to Salvation,” Scorchlock said, as he looked around to see if that ground-bridge was opened or not.


“By the Allspark…” King-Quan said in shock as his fingers slightly wiggled in anticipation. “There have been some defenses triggered at a facility terminal called the vaults.” He mentioned. “Several thousand life forms spread out across the northern hemisphere of OL-2006-2-C. Perhaps they are the search parties we have dispatched.” King-Quan affirms. “Salvation has been locked in a tractor beam by this very planet’s defense system. There has been another ship detected…but the second craft was depicted as friendly. What kind of ship is out there instead of our own and the enemies’?” He asked, glancing at the leaders.

“I suggest handling with great care,” King-Quan spoke. “They have been lying dormant for several millions of years.” He said. “And I don’t suggest winging it as the scripts are in ancient cybertronian.” He said.

The Faux-Atlantis quickly closes the distance between him and Zepar, stopping on the platform to slash at the Angelicon’s midsection.

The Faux-Hyperborea inserts her blade into the keyhole of the other platform, once more sending out a pulse of green-hued cybermatter rippling across the floor of the arena.


Thrift scoots over and lays an arm on Garand’s shoulder.

“Dakka is… well, dakka is an idea: the concept of filling a ne’er-do-well with as much ammunition per second as you can manage with your current arsenal. Some would call that a waste of ammunition,-”

“Which it is,” Salvo comments.

“-but those who do are the kind of short-sighted fools who believe in things like ‘quality over quantity’, and slag like that,” Thrift continues without missing a beat. “I mean, sure a neutron bomb can take care of a Phase Sixer in a pinch, yeah, but so can a metric slag-ton of 70 millimeter rounds, amIright?


The ground bridge portal was only about a mile away, hanging above a crevasse.


■■■■■■■■■■■■ grimaces; of course he knew to be caredul.

“There’s another ship here?” he asks, marching over to King-Quan to have a look at the console.

“What was that about a tractor beam?” Breakswitch says.

Zepar immediately dives to avoid the sword, praying the giant construct will stab the slot with its blade.


“So, ‘dakka’ is to basically shoot the problem until it’s no longer a problem?” He asked.

“There is a ground-bridge.” Scorchlock pointed towards it, a mile away as he transformed into his alt-mode and drove towards it. Eventually, after a mile has been passed he entered inside of it, as he found himself back on Salvation. Once upon the ship, he transformed into his robot mode. “I wonder if anyone is on the bridge…” He mentioned.


“The planet’s defense system has Salvation shielded with a tractor beam,” King-Quan answers her question.

As ■■■■■■■■■■■■ got close towards the console, King-Quan rose his hand midway towards ■■■■■■■■■■■■, to not get very close to him as he did not appreciate his presence so near him. “Personal space please.” He said, before answering his question. “Yes, there is another ship.,” King-Quan said, looking at the console to see what it read about this other ship.

The blade sweeps through the air where Zepar had been mere seconds ago, whipping over him. The Faux-Atlantis draws his weapon back, changing his grip to hold the weapon in reverse. The Automaton drives his sword down at Zepar.


Thrift nods enthusiastically.

“Yes indeedy!” he affirms. “More dakka is the application of the concept.”


Scorchlock was in hangar twelve, were the technicians had dismantled Redstocker’s makeshift training grounds while the wrecker was away.


■■■■■■■■■■■■ brushes King-Quan’s hand aside.

“Can you disable the tractor beam?” the Decepticon captain inquires. “The last time we had ourselves in one, we were nearly overrun by a horde of insecticons.”

The second ship that the planet’s defenses had detected registered as a colonization craft. Ships like these had been built by the Knights of Cybertron in the Golden Age to cyberform planets, rendering them suitable for robotic life. The remains of such vessels could be found on each of the colonies in the Imperium of Cybertron.

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Zepar books it, praying that the stab would be directed at the slot in the platform.


Garand nods that he understood.

Indeed, the blade is thrust into the keyhole, instead of Zepar’s sparkchamber. Unfortunately, at that moment, another host of biomechanical vines spring from the earth to ensnare the Angelicon.


The train car exits the tunnel; Garand, Salvo, and Thrift were now on one of the many railways that ran through Little Iacon, giving Garand a good view of the miniature city in its round, cavernous chamber.