King-Quan would keep watching nevertheless.
“Some hologram told us we had to ‘prove ourselves’ to get the next Omega Key,” Gronius’ companion explains.
“I hear ya,” Salvo agrees. “The wait’s killing me.”
The hive could be found in the stretch of the maintenance network that ran within Salvation’s left fin- standing out amidst the dark tunnels due to the purple and white lights embedded in the strands of techno-organic cabling and webs that stretched between the walls and crept along the floor. The insecticons had taken up residence in one of the network’s hubs, along with a small amount of the passageways that branched off of it.
Throughout the hive, insecticons of all kinds skittered about on various errands.
One in particular, a tiny little bug with bright green armor and a grey horn, scuttles up to Starchaser and chirps at her curiosuly.
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“Where is that hologram now?” He asked him.
“So what do you do?”
Neckbreaker asked Salvo. Trying to pass the time.
Starchaser looked down and smiled.
“Hey there little guy. You got a name?”
“Should be by the elevator,” Gronius grunts.
“I kick aft and sell guns,” Salvo says proudly. “Pretty nice gig, huh?”
The little insecticon emits a short series of soft clicking sounds.
“Yeah, sounds nice. I’ve never been all that interested in guns though. Only weapons I’ll ever need are my own two fists.”
Starchaser knelt down and gently scratched the top of its head.
“Well aren’t you a cute little fella. You know anybody around here I could talk to?”
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Salvo shrugs.
“Whatever works for you, man,” she says.
The small insecticon clicks again and begins to scuttle further into the hive.
Starchaser smiles and happily follows the little bug.
The green insecticon leads Starchaser into the central chamber of the hive, where tall, broad-shouldered insecticon warriors lounged about in robot mode. Though they certainly looked intimidating, they pay Starchaser no mind. The warriors had sworn to ally themselves with Salvation’s crew, and cared not for their odd practice of dividing themselves into factions.
In the middle of the room was the insecticon queen. She stood on six legs, a hooked claw on the end of her right arm and a massive cannon on the left. Sharp blades and spikes comprised her red and violet armor, studded with round bulbs of pale light.
The queen rests on a bed of the biomechanical webbing that adorned the rest of the hive, and smaller drones buzzed around her incessantly.
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“Woah… That’s a big bug.”
Starchaser said. She was expecting the little guy to take her to a friend or something. But not this.
“So, is this your queen?”
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The insecticon nods, and the queen turns her tiny head to look down at Starchaser. Her many yellow eyes narrow as the horn on her head press themselves against her temples.
“Oh, uh… Hi.”
Starchaser said nervously. Giving a shy wave. While she was never one to be socially awkward, but this was a bit of a special case to say the least.
“So… How are you?”
The insecticon queen’s eyes widen again.
“We’re doing juuuuuust fine,” she says conversationally, her voice rising from deep within her throat. “How about yooooou, Decepticon?”
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“I’m uh… I’m doing alright. I just heard we had a hive in the ship, and wanted to check it out.”
Starchaser replied. A bit more confidently.
“I’ve never been in an insecticon hive before. It’s pretty cool.”
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The queen smiles- as near a smile as the elongated, beaked structure of her face would allow, at least.
“For sooooome reason,” she says, “we haven’t had many visitors this voyage. Asiiiiide from your ship’s captains and Facelift, it’s been rather lonely.”
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“Well, I’d be happy to hang out here. I honestly haven’t been the best with keeping company myself, so it’s comforting to know I’m welcome here.”
OOC: Off for work. Should be back in about 2 - 2.5 hours for my break.
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“Please,” the queen says, “feel free to inviiiiiite others. We would loooooove the company.”
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“I’ll definitely keep that in mind.”
She said with a pleasant smile.
“So what’s your name? Or, wait. Do you even have a name?”
“You may caaaaall us Arthropoda,” the queen introduces herself. Or themselves; hard to tell with the hive mind, as Thrift had said.
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Scorchlock nods and goes towards the elevator.