Spectrum nodded. “Aw-aw-awesome!” She replied
Split transformed into the three brothers, who transformed into their respective jet modes and flew out towards Salvation.
“Already taken care of,” Topside interjects over the commlink. “We’re still up here, right next to 'em. Bad guys took off after they put on that light show earlier.”
“Indeed,” Forcep agrees, and he looks over and smiles at her.
Our heroes’ victory had come at a great cost: Salvation was more damaged now than she’d ever been throughout the voyage, with fires burning through wide holes in her hull, and one of her engines dark and shrouded in smoke. In her current state, she was nowhere near space-worthy.
“Epsilon, bring the Keys to the ship; I’ll check on Bombshock and the others.” Zepar says.
Spectrum grinned back.
Lightshift sighed. “We sure took some hard hits. At least we got the keys, right?”
The three brothers flew towards the nearest functioning hangar.
Flyby and Topside leave the comm, and a ground bridge portal opens on the ancient space station.
Forcep walks down to a triage center where the medical staff had started to relocate most of their wounded. It was a large chamber deep within the ship, with a high arched ceiling and rows of stasis pods lining the walls.
This hangar would be hangar thirty, which had survived the attack quite well, all considered. Some of the refueling platforms had been destroyed, and long scorch marks marred the walls and floor, but the facility was still functional.
Most importantly, Thrift and his personal spacecraft had emerged from the battle without a scratch. The junkion was meticulously inspecting the Gambler to make sure his baby was unhurt.
Epsilon collects the Keys and contacts the captains, “Did you just open the Ground Bridge?” He asks.
Zepar heads out to check on Bombshock and the others. (Even the two Predacons if they were nearby)
“Reckon that was Motherboard,” Topside says.
Bombshock, Ripclaw, and Lazerback had been taken to one of the larger medical facilities within Salvation, where they had been secured in large rigs made of rotating white rings from which tool-tipped arms extended to perform surgeries. Teams of doctors and nurses surrounded each predacon, operating the machinery and assessing their new patients’ injuries.
“How are you guys holding up?” Zepar asks the Predacons and Bombshock’s Insecticons that survived.
“Motherboard?” Epsilon asks on the comlink, “Is the portal I am seeing ours?”
The predacons couldn’t speak- or at least, the didn’t know how. One of the doctors elects to answer in their stead.
“They took some bad hits- Ripclaw had a hand and part of her tail severed, and Razorclaw tanked a round from a mass driver- but it’s nothing we can’t fix.”
The predacons were still inside their medical apparatuses, their eyes sweeping the room and fixing on various instruments and personnel at random.
“Affirmative, Epsilon-5,” Motherboard answers. “I opened this portal to provide you swift transport back aboard the CFC Salvation. Furthermore, it is unlikely that Bludgeon is in possession of the technology to build a ground bridge of his own, otherwise he would have been employing it in battle for rapid troop deployment.”
Zepar nodded, “Keep me posted.” He said, electing to stay and be with the Predacons as they healed.
At Motherboard’s confirmation, Epsilon walks through the portal with the Keys.
The doctor nods, and rejoins a team seeing to Ripclaw’s repairs.
Epsilon is deposited in hangar thirty, near the Splitter brothers (@meepinater).
Zepar sits down nearby and keeps watch over the Predacons. If they make eye contact with him, they’d get the sense he is genuinely concerned for their well-being.
Epsilon seems relieved as he enters the hanger, clutching the Keys.
Spectrum followed Forcep, looking around in awe. “B-big r-room!” she said.
The Splitter brothers walk over. “Got the keys?” Lightshift asks, waving at Epsilon.
Epsilon shows them he has the Keys.
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Lighshift nodded. “Excellent. Nice job.”
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“There’s a few like it on the ship,” Forcep explains. “Altogether, we have enough stasis pods to accommodate most of the crew in the event of a disaster.”
Bombshock, Lazerback, and Ripclaw are still as the doctors do their work. Bombshock casts a glance at Zepar and immediately feels assured by the compassion evident in the Angelicon’s expression.
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“G-Good!” The medic chirped cheerfully.
Zepar stayed near them, letting the doctors work their practice and heal the injured.
“Fortunately we haven’t had much need of them,” Forcep continues, “though we almost would have, if it weren’t for your companions.”
The predacons’ injuries would be easy to mend, were it not for the doctors’ inexperience with predacon physiology. These creatures had been extinct as far as they knew, anyway for millions of years, and so much information about them had been lost to time.
Spectrum nodded. “G-g-good f-friends.”