“In short, sir, yes,” Greasemonkey confirms, deflating a little.
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“Alright! Now we’re talkin’. So uh… How do we do this?”
Greasemonkey taps on the orb’s smooth, transparent surface, and a lightning-blue holomap of the surrounding mountain range appears above the console. Controls for Salvation’s ground bridge materialize in a hexagonal grid, prompting the user to select coordinates before opening a portal.
“It’s simple, really; a hatchling could do it,” Greasemonkey says.
“Alright.”
Neckbreaker said as he walked up to the holomap, looking it over.
“So uh, where are the others at again?”
Greasemonkey points to a basin beneath Salvation, in which a thick, cybertanium ring rose from the earth on five gargantuan pillars of rock and metal.
“In there, I do believe,” he says.
“Nice.”
He said with a smile. Tapping in the center of the ring.
Coordinates confirmed.
Read the controls.
Opening portal.
From behind Neckbreaker and Greasemonkey, the air hisses as a swirling green vortex stirs into being, marbled with crackling flashes of purple.
Neckbreaker looks to the old engineer and smiles.
“Thanks monkey-man! I owe ya one.”
He then shifted into beast mode and ran straight for the open portal.
Meanwhile, Starchaser was doing what she normally did to kill time. Flying around the exterior of the Salvation. Shifting between her four modes to pull off different stunts and tricks. Moving with an astonishing amount of grace and agility.
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Neckbreaker could just make out Greasemonkey groaning at the nickname as he crosses through the portal… almost running straight off the fortress’ central spire when he emerges through the other side.
Below him, Salvation’s crew were hard at work establishing defenses around the basin, preparing for Bludgeon’s inevitable arrival. The plan seemed to be to hold the New Decepticon Order back long enough for our heroes to retrieve the next Omega Key.
Other bots flew around Salvation as well, though they were performing regular sweeps of the mountains in search of incoming foes, not passing the time with aerial acrobatics. Among them was Motherboard, the emotionless first officer, and Salvation’s pilot, flyby.
On the ground, ■■■■■■■■■■■■ directs the troops, walking between combiners and hulking bots to bark orders to soldiers establishing encampments amidst the jagged energon crystal formations and spires of rock around the fortress.
“I’m no tactician, captain,” Grommet says to him, “but I don’t believe I have to be one to point out the danger in establishing ourselves on the low ground.”
■■■■■■■■■■■■ scowls. It was bothersome enough that the Autobots disobeyed and questioned him almost as a matter of principle, but to have a fellow Decepticon turning on him so?
“Perhaps if captain Topside was here, he would be running this show more to your liking,” he hisses, glaring at the portly science officer. “But he’s off sight-seeing instead of preparing for our enemy’s arrival, so you will have to contend with my leadership for the time being. Understood?”
Grommet takes a step back, his telescopic eye narrowing.
“Clearly, captain,” he sneers, before walking off. ■■■■■■■■■■■■ lets him leave, disappointed at how the collusion between factions was allowing the Autobots’ insubordination to bleed into the Decepticons’ ranks…
Neckbreaker decided to go to the frontline defense. That’d be where most of the fighting was. He looked for whoever looked the most in charge so he could offer his assistance.
Feeling bored and desperate for social interaction, Starchaser shifted to her propeller fighter mode and tailed Flyby, hoping to catch up and hold a conversation. Though forgetting to turn off her more than infamous theme tune.
Meanwhile, after Neckbreaker left, Breig returned to the engine room.
“Excuse me. Engineer.”
He said, referring to Greasemonkey.
“Would you by chance happen to know where I could find a sub-atomic-molecular-particle-transducer? I need one for, um… reasons, and I figured out of everyone on this ship you would be the most likely to have one. Given your close proximity to similar equipment.”
Neckbreaker would see none other than ■■■■■■■■■■■■, Salvation’s Decepticon co-captain, striding among the troops.
Starchaser’s comlink bleeps to life.
“Uh, hey, listen,” Flyby’s Russian-accented voice warbles through the communicator, “we’re supposed to be keeping chatter to a minimum, and I don’t think loud Earth music qualifies as-… wait a minute, I know that song…”
Greasemonkey raises his left eyebrow at the request.
“I’m sorry, sir,” he replies. “The only ones I can think of are currently in use, and after the show just moments ago, I hope you understand my reluctance to loan such equipment to you for the time being.”
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Seeing him, Neckbreaker changed to robot mode and eagerly approached the captain.
“S’cuse me sir.”
He said confidentially.
“I heard there was gonna be a big fight goin’ on around here, and I thought you all might need my help.”
The autobot stood proudly, fully expecting ■■■■■■■■■■■■ to recognize him from his semi-impressive reputation from the gladiator pits.
Starchaser shut off the music and replied.
“Sorry about that. I forget when I leave it on sometimes.”
Despite her friendly disposition, Starchaser’s flying silhouette was unmistakable at this distance, and may have come across as unintentionally intimidating when coming in from above and behind.
“Oh please. So you accidentally cause a mass revolt of your creations once, or twice… Or a dozen- Look. It doesn’t matter. The point is I’m still an autobot, same as you. And as an autobot I want nothing but to help aid the success of our mission. So could you please help me out here?”
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■■■■■■■■■■■■ looks down disdainfully at Neckbreaker.
“Doubtful,” he says, “but, it has been a month for miraculous happenings, I suppose…”
Flyby of course recognized Starchaser’s vehicle mode, but as a Decepticon himself, he didn’t find much to worry about. If anything, it was rather exciting to meet such a prominent figure.
“Oh, I do that, too,” the pilot confesses. “It’s such a shame Brakeswitch and I have completely different tastes in music…”
“Suppose I gave you what you supposedly need,” Greasemonkey says. “What do you plan to do with it, sir?”
“I beg your pardon?”
Neckbreaker replied. Sounding both deflated and more than a little offended.
Starchaser, more than grateful that she didn’t scare this one off, pulls in closer, flying parallel to the pilot.
“Say, you’re the ship’s pilot right? You fly this big bird?”
“Well if you must know, I plan on creating a machine which could relocate someone anywhere in the ship. Not so much portal based like our new ground bridge, but more of an instantaneous teleporter. Given how massive this ship is, it could be extremely useful to the crew.”
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“Well, let’s hear it,” ■■■■■■■■■■■■ sighs.
“She does all the flying,” Flyby jokes. “I just keep her on-course.”
“That sounds… dangerous,” Greasemonkey replies.
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“Well I just get the feelin’ that you underestimate what I’m capable of. Sure I might not be the smartest bot on board, but I can fight just as good as anyone else. Better even. So now about you hold off on passin’ that judgement just yet.”
“Personally I don’t think I could handle flying anything other than myself. I’d die if I went too long without getting some air under my wings.”
Starchaser said. Being just a little dramatic.
“Oh please. Everything sounds dangerous before someone tries it for the first time. There’s a little risk to everything at first. From the spacebridge to these engines.”
■■■■■■■■■■■■ furrows his brow. There were more than a few Decepticons just like that in the Empire’s ranks.
…Okay, there were quite a few dimwitted Decepticons who compensated for their lack of brainwave activity with an excess of weaponry and brute strength. If Megatron could make use of the likes of Lugnut, then he could do the same with this Autobot brawler, could he not?"
“Perhaps I was too harsh, earlier,” he says. “We are in a war for our species’ very survival, after all; one can never have too many fighters…”
“Brakeswitch always says I should just sell my wings to some modder- like that cyclops that lives with the insecticons. ‘You never use them’, she says, ‘might as well make some shanix off them, at least’.”
“What is your name, sir?” Greasemonkey, irritated, asks him.
Neckbreaker’s disposition immediately turned around. Now looking at the captain with an eager smile.
“Well thanks-a-million boss. I promise I’ll show you exactly what I’m capable of.”
“Wait a minute. We have insecticons? Since when?”
Starchaser replied with great surprise, not quite processing anything said after that part.
“I am Breig. But what does that matter?”
The scientist replied. Begining to become somewhat irritated himself.
“I will hold you to that,” ■■■■■■■■■■■■ replies, his tone still not exactly friendly.
“Since we left Cybertron…?” Flyby replies. “They haven’t done much, though, so I guess I can see how you haven’t heard of them already.”
“Oh, nothing sir. I just have the feeling I’ll be needing to remember that name in the coming weeks,” Greasemonkey says with a notable hint of dread.
“And I’d expect nothin’ less.”
He replied, still just as eager.
With introductions with the commander out of the way, he decided to look around and see who he’d be fighting along with.
“I can’t believe I haven’t found out until now. You got any idea where they are?”
“Hmph. Typical. Seems wherever I go I’m seen as some walking impending disaster. It’s absurd.”
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