“He’s right,” Razor says. She looks up from her repairs to Oreo’s arm. “I assume you are in charge of us?” she says to Aralysa.
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“You’d like to know that, wouldn’t you?” Stonefist further threatens, still standing above the large man forcefully.
“Uh, I suppose so. Is there some kind of brig on this ship?” the Hecatan bot asks, unfamiliar with the Pulsar’s overall layout so far.
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The large bot lay face first on the ground, clearly unconscious. His cloak was scorched and burned from Maximus’s electricity, and the tips still smoldered a bit. While the sheet of delicately hemed and embroidered cloth covered up most of the cultist’s body, the alarmingly large puddle of purple energon leaking out from underneath and staining the cloak indicated a concerning, if not life-threatening level of energon loss.
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“I can go look,” Oreo says. He stands up, his right arm hanging limply in a sling with several metal braces and splints welded on. Razor looks a little nervous, seeing the damage to his arm.
“Do we have any medical supplies,” she asks.
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Kitai felt the heat sear into his back. Shooting a glare, he leaned down, and released the pilot. He then went back to the airlock to join the others.
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The giant stands his ground, but the other troopers around him seem a little nervous.
“Hey, Sarge,” one says, “this guy’s bulletproof and he just crushed Mendoza like a coke can. You think it’s a good idea to push his buttons?”
“You know what’ll happen to us if we talk, Peters,” the giant responds. “I’d rather take my chances with the sentient wrecking ball.”
Unfortunately, the Pulsar doesn’t have a brig, or any other dedicated space for holding prisoners. The ship’s designers apparently didn’t anticipate their vessel getting involved in this sort of activity.
The mech pilot falls onto the deck, grunting as shock absorbers in her suit cushion the impact. With her surviving comrades having surrendered, she follows Kitai over to the airlock. Her mech remains magnetized to the hull.
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“Nah. I’m not that kind of soldier.”
Nova replied. Gungnir then sat down next to the swordsman, still looming over him.
“But I still know well enough to keep an eye on you.”
“Yikes! That’s not good.”
The predacond said to himself. He quickly picked the cultist up and hoisted him over his shoulder. He then jumped down the nearby airlock and made his way to the medical room.
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“You’re not gonna keep me here on the outside of the ship, are you?” the swordsman asks, cocking his head to one side. “I mean, I suppose it’s as good a holding cell as any- several thousand feet above the ground and nowhere to go- but something tells me you’ve got better things to do than sit with me for the rest of your trip.”
Maximus would have to pass by Stonefist, Aralysa, Oreo and Razor as they surround the surviving mercenaries. The armored humans spare a glance at the Predacon as he carries LD-L1 to the medical bay, but do nothing.
The medical bay has a CR chamber that can treat LD-L1’s wounds.
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Firestorm watched the humans that surrendered, Dark was showing his presence by causing half of his form to show the twisted spiked armor that was his trademark.
“Now, care to explain why you attacked us?” Firestorm asks, “We meant no harm by our presence.”
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“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re on a space yacht. I can’t imagine this thing has anything that even remotely resembles a holding cell.”
Nova replied.
Maximus maintained eye contact with the mercs as he awkwardly scooted around the group. Once he got to the medical bay, he opened the cr chamber and gently set LD-L1 inside.
After his work was done he returned to the bridge. Greeted by a weary looking phoenix.
“Status?”
The Prime asked tiredly.
“Pretty good actually! Nova downed the attacking ship. Kid’s got some real spunk to her. I’m kinda impressed if I’m being honest.”
“Nova?”
Axis replied.
“The human kid with the mech?”
“Wait, yes, I remember now.”
The Prime said.
“And what of the forces that made it on to the ship?”
“After suffering enough casualties they chose to surrender. Most of them are held up in the central hallway.”
The corners of her beak turned up in a weary smile.
“Very good. Very good. Round up all the rest of them and put them in the… wait, this is a pleasure vessel. No brig…”
Axis ruffled her wings a bit as she thought things over.
“Find whichever room looks the least comfortable and hold them all in there.”
Maximus smiled and took a bow.
“Right away.”
He turned around and looked over the different rooms, looking for the one that was the least well-furbished.
Axis meanwhile breathed a tired sigh.
“I believe it’s clear now that this expedition will be far more complicated than I first hoped.”
She lamented to Salvage.
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“Quite.” Kitai appeared through the airlock. “You should know, the only reason that mech never got inside is because I got there first.”
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Some of the mercenaries recoil at Dark Firestorm’s intimidating display.
“Well, believe me pal, there’s somebody out there who definitely means you harm,” their leader, an eight foot tall man in powered armor, says to the Headmaster. “Who and why, I can’t say- Company policy, I’m afraid. And my bosses don’t take kindly to breaches of contract, if you catch my drift.”
“Probably not,” the swordsman concedes. “You guys really should get yourselves a better ship; it’s a dangerous galaxy out there.”
“Y’know, maybe I was too harsh earlier,” Salvage says. “You new guys kick aft! Sure, jumping through the window was a little extra, but I guess I have to appreciate the grand entrance.”
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Stonefist spoke up again at this.
“You wanna know what I ‘don’t take kindly to’? Not getting my questions answered.” the rocky bot threatened. “And I’d better get some answers soon.”
At that statement, Aralysa rolled her optics. She knew Stonefist would just threaten and threaten for the rest of the day and well into the night. He was persistent. The Hecatan had to give him that credit, at least.
“Enough.” Kitai loomed above Stonefist. “Threats will do nothing. They pose no immediate threat.”
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“Well do you know a better way to get answers?” Stonefist challenged. Threatening, after all, was more or less effective. Especially with a large, intimidating frame such as his.
“I know something. Maybe instead of making threats, you should ask other comrades first.” Kitai said.
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“Fine.” Stonefist huffed grumpily, gesturing towards the soldiers. “Be my guest.”
“Quite so. The speed and efficiency this new team has displayed is remarkable to say the least.”
Axis remarked.
“Believe me, I’m not exactly a fan. But it wasn’t my choice.”
Nova replied.
Maximus kept looking over the different rooms, trying to find one that was hopefully, and not quite as luxurious as the others.
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“I admire your honor and your diligence to your own code of ethics but I’m afraid we cannot accept that answer.” Firestorm says.
“Besides, if it’s something that threatens Cybertronians, it’s more than likely a threat to you too.” Dark adds, “pay’s only good if you can live long enough to actually spend it and I’m sure you all have families waiting back home.”
“Before you get the wrong idea, Dark is referring to the potential danger your bosses and clients pose.” Firestorm clarifies.
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Salvage looks down at a damage report compiling at his console.
“Nothing worse than some damage to the outer hull, thankfully,” he summarizes. “But, I’ll bet we’re gonna be paying for the repairs, regardless.”
“Meaning?” the swordsman asks, intrigued. “Are you a hired gun for these people, or something?”
Unfortunately, all the rooms on the Pulsar are rather luxurious- the Astran craftswomen who had built the ship had excelled in making a comfortable vessel in which to travel. Each room is very spacious, and includes a recharging slab built with all kinds of creature comforts, a console with holographic interfaces and haptic controls built into the wall, and variable lighting. The rooms can be locked from the outside, however.
“Well, that’s a shame,” the Sergeant says. “For a moment there, that was almost threatening enough to convince me. Our clientele’s intentions are none of our business. Plausible deniability comes in handy in our line of work.”
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