Fortress parked within the conflux and transformed to robot mode.
“Well this seems like as good a place as any.”
Pipebomb said, taking a look around.
Broadwing took a steady breath to calm his nerves before walking in.
“Shockwave, I wish to speak with you.”
He said calmly.
“S-ssshhh” Spectrum urges, raising a finger to her mouth.
She began working on Sprocket, trying to repair the damage as best she could. “S-save e-e-energy.” She told him.
The machines within the Conflux were inert, with the Omega Keys still in Epsilon-5’s possession. The gray lights on the walls and ceiling illuminate the empty space around the lifeless ancient mechanisms, while the guards- still battle-worn- rested.
Shockwave places a smashed scanning tool on a workbench before turning his eye to Broadwing.
“What do you require of me?” he asks.
“Yeeeaaah, that’s probably a good idea,” Sprocket agrees, yawning. “I’ll just let you do your thing.”
Sprocket had taken a shot from a high-caliber sniper rifle (which, for a race of giant robots with self-regenerating armor, was most definitely nothing to scoff at) right through his back. It had severed most of the connections to the motors electrical workings in his right arm, and ruptured a pump that help to circulate energon throughout his body. The medical team had attached exterior life support equipment to the broken tube to redirect the flow of energon.
Spectrum started by repairing the energon pump and any other important internal systems.
Spectrum’s able to repair the pump and reconnect the wiring to Sprocket’s right arm. Sprocket tests the limb’s functionality by giving Spectrum a shaky thumbs-up.
Spectrum returned the thumbs-up, before double-checking to make sure that everything was in order.
Sprocket’s body was once again circulating energon unassisted again, and his right arm was clearly functional. The hole in his chest was still present, and a few other mechanisms inside were damaged, but Sprocket’s self-repair functions were slowly working mending on those.
Spectrum nodded in satisfaction, before glancing at the other crewmember to see if they needed any assistance.
Greasemonkey was unconscious within his pod. His organic components were badly burned, and the armor on his stomach area was battered and warped. His left optic was unlit, though the right still glowed blue.
“The two predacons we brought aboard. Where are they?”
He asked.
Pipebomb decided to follow the guards’ example and power down for a while. Fortress as well sat down and entered his charging mode.
Spectrum turned to Forcep.
“H-he i-is n-not m-mech-chanical?” She stuttered.
“H-how d-do we h-help?”
OOC: I has medigauntlet…
IC: Garand was helping dig out survivors and bring the wounded to sickbay.
Shockwave’s gaze lingers for a moment, before he lumbers off to continue trying vainly to organize his ruined laboratory.
“Specimens Ripclaw and Lazerback were taken to a medical ward on deck six,” he says. “They are being treated for the injuries they sustained in combat. I will recommend that they be placed in stasis pods for our return voyage to Cybertron.”
“His condition is too severe for us to help him here,” Forcep assesses, looking over Greasemonkey’s damaged body. “He’ll need to spend time in a CR chamber.”
One of the other medics nods her head. “He was buried under the transwarp drive- what’s left of it, anyway. We’ve got him stable, but it’s too early to tell if the radiation will have any effect on his organic tissue.”
“What was that about the transwarp drive?” Forcep asks, alarmed. The Autobot and Decepticon doctors look to one another, unsure of how to break the news.
“It’s… it’s gone, sir,” one speaks up. “Fell off the main reactor and broke apart- we’re lucky it didn’t take the whole planet with it.”
The worst of the damage was in Engineering. Most of the massive machinery on the walls, floor, and ceiling was in need of repair in some capacity, and one of Salvation’s main engines was completely nonfunctional. Many engineers had been trapped beneath collapsing causeways or falling pipes, and others had been crushed to death or impaled on beams ripped out of their frames by explosions.
But worst of all, the transwarp drive, which enabled Salvation to travel through the extradimensional void at superluminal speeds, integral to the success of her mission, lay in a crumpled heap beneath the main reactor. Deep in uncharted space as she and our heroes were, there was no way she could make the return voyage in time to save Primus without it.
Spectrum looked between Forcep and the medics, taking in all the information.
“S-so… C-C-CR c-chamber?” She asked.
Forcep and the other medics come back to their duties. The transwarp drive was beyond their control, but they could still tend to the wounded.
“Right, right,” Forcep says, taking a deep breath. “Let’s get these two to a med bay and prepared for critical repairs ASAP.”
“I’m fine!” says Sprocket. “The little lady fixed up my arm and got my blood pumping again.”
“You still have a hole in your chest, son,” comes Forcep’s reply.
“Eh, hole-schmole.” Sprocket waves his hand in a dismissive gesture, then winces as a spark flashes in the damaged components in his chest.
Broadwing nodded.
“Thank you.”
He then turned and left, saying nothing else. Starchaser followed, keeping a glare trained on Shockwave and giving an ‘I got my eye on you’ gesture as she backed out the door.
The two then made their way to the deck six med bay. As they walked in they quickly looked around for the predacons.
Shockwave rotates his head to an extreme degree and directs a piercing stare back at Starchaser as she departs, his eye unblinking, as always.
The predacons were indeed in deck six, occupying three of the larger repair bays (Bombshock was with them too, as it turned out) while a whole team of doctors operated on each of them. They frequently referenced their datapads and conferred with one another in-between repairs.
Starchaser’s glare was strong and confident right up until the moment she was in the hall and out of Shockwave’s line of sight. At which point she turned back to face Broadwing and visibly shuttered all over.
“Sweet Primus I forget how creepy that guy can be sometimes.”
“I’ve lived with him most my life. You get used to it.”
Broadwing said plainly.
OOC: Who’s Bombshock again?
IC: Broadwing approached the beds. Getting as close as he could without getting in the way of the doctors. He had a concerned, almost pained expression on his face.
Though his attention was broken away from the predacons as he felt a set of fingers slip into his claw. Confused and a little shocked. He looked down to find Starchaser’s hand holding his own. He then looked up to her face, and was met with a warm smile.
“Don’t worry about it. They’re gonna be fine.”
She said kindly.
There was a million things Broadwing wanted to say, and yet he could think of nothing to say at all.
“I-… Y-yes. Thank you.”
Was all he could stammer out.
OOC: Bombshock is the Predacon Insecticon Zepar turned to our side.
IC: Zepar could be seen using his medigauntlet to help with healing the injuries of the Predacons.
Garand makes a note of the damage.
Epsilon is keeping a close eye on the Keys, electing to be near the captains until things calm down enough to see what would happen if the Keys were put in what remains of the Conflux.
The ship’s in ruins and we have all four Keys…I don’t want to risk blowing things up even more because something important we didn’t know about broke or is missing…I’ve seen a few too many Junkion experiments end because they put a single part backwards or said something was a spare part to risk this. he thought.
Spectrum nodded. “L-let’s g-g-go!” She chirped.