Salvo idly listens in as he takes a look at the missiles brought to her from OL-2’s vault. They seemed compatible with Salvation’s foldspace warhead batteries.
The guard waits by the cell, too, before looking down at Breig.
“…So, you need anything else, or can I get back to my patrol now?” she asks.
“I am glad you asked!” Thrift exclaims, yanking it off the shelf. He fits it onto his forearm, the device making a few minor adjustments to its shape itself to the junkion’s arm.
“When ya clench your fist like so-” Thrift narrates, curling his fingers into his palm. Four lengths of a bronze-colored filament shoot out of the gauntlet, coiling together and coming alive with electricity.
“It’s a taser whip!” he laughs maniacally. “Name, and patent, pending approval should the Autobot High Council look past my undeserved criminal record.”
Arthropoda nods again.
“Take care,” she says.
The Antillian Sunrise was much more lively now after takeoff, with many crewmembers coming to celebrate the acquisition of the Green Omega Key with the barkeep, Halfrunner.
With both Omega Keys active within the Conflux, the holo-map updates, with new stars and planets appearing in some of the blank spaces around the chamber.
“I am incapable of leaving this hanger, due to my size. You will have to stay here.”
“No. You may leave. Thank you very much for your help.”
“Quite interesting. Though unfortunately such a device is beyond my handling.”
Broadwing said, snapping one of his claws to make his point.
She transformed into her beasts mode and flew off to the closest bar. Which happened to be the one on the Autobot side. Arriving at about the same time as…
Starchaser and Pipebomb both take a seat at the bar. Incidentally next to one another.
“Halfrunner! A round for myself. Something strong.”
Pipebomb said. He then noticed the morose decepticon.
“And uh, one for the lady. On me.”
“Don’t mention it,” the guard says before walking away.
Breig’s new company in the adjacent cells were all run-of-the-mill New Decepticon troopers. Nothing special about them. They all stare blankly into space, occasionally standing up to pace around their cells for a moment.
“Not to worry!” Thrift replies. “My products are built to accommodate a wide variety of limb structures and body types.”
Brieg felt relieved. Still not ideal. But at least they didn’t look like psychos.
“I think I’ll take it then. But I would also like to add a melee weapon of some sort. A blade with which to smite my enemies.”
“Well I was going to have a drink at the good 'ol Peace & Tyranny, but the place has been shut down.”
Fortress made an odd sound, something akin to a sigh. A chance for some good company once more slipped through his massive mechanical fingers.
“Very well. I realize such a plan would be impractical.”
Tailspin eventually returns, bringing news of those additional restrictions on Breig’s sentence.
“Topside wanted your whole lab thrown into the next star we pass, but Shatterpoint talked him out of it,” she explains. “He apparently made a case that you could do some good if you were working with the other scientists.”
“Buddy, this is a whip,” Thrift clarifies. “It is a melee weapon- though one with greater range and an element of pizzazz.”
“Ha! Good riddance,” Halfrunner scoffs. “And I’m not just saying that 'cause they were my only competition, lad.”
“Uh-huh,” she says. “You know, you sound like an old friend of mine.”
“Yes!” Thrift exclaims. “I’ll switch out the current conductive filaments for razor wire!”
“I’m eager to see the lad doing something useful, ‘stead of sitting in his pub being nothin’ but a bigot,” Halfrunner says.
“The whole two months we’ve been at this, it’s been ‘glorious Megatron’ this, ‘Autobot scourge’ that. For Primus’s sake, it’s like he forgets there’s been a truce on for the past five years sometimes.”
The tiny Allspark hologram in the Splitter brothers’ hab-suite flickers dimly, as others of its kind were doing all over _Salvation.
SideStep’s wanderings would take him to the Conflux (@BlackBeltGamer98)