Tokamak doesn’t really notice Conjoint potentially trying to loose him. He just assumes that he’s still drunk or just slow, most outside of Velocitron were painfully slow. So he occasionally would stop and just wait for Conjoint to catch up before picking up the pace again.
When they reach the spaceport, he looks for whatever building would be for repair services. Asking bots around for directions if it isn’t obvious.
“Ooh, juicy. Deal!” Roaster grins and puts out a hand to shake on it before her head spins around. Noticing Niko and others have moved, she quickly moves to grab Firestorm’s hand and give a single pump.
“Come on, we’re getting left behind.” She espouses and moves to catch up with the others by the Insecticon section.
“What do we got here? Oh the bugs! I’ve constructed plenty of crawlers in my time.”
Slowly the pod’s fiberglass pod began to be pressed out of place as the mantis form inside twitched and began to push out at the container’s screen.
Swiftly, with no real warning to the casual observer, the casing clattered to the floor, thus releasing the occupant. The Inseciticon Mantis gave a long gasp mandibles chittering as she looked about at her new surroundings in a befuddling mix of confusion and mild fear as she glanced around.
Then she transformed. Her shell twisted inwards as the insecticon’s legs bent backward or folded in to reveal a more humanoid form. The head twisted, mandibles twisted inwards and the large multifaceted eye’s folded back like a visor to reveal a more normal face.
Stonefist stared as the pod deactivated and the thought-dead Insecticon came to.
“It’s alive!” was all that he managed to say, and then he readied his fists and shifted into a battle stance. Next to him, his companion Aralysa was similarly surprised, and took out her energy saber, but did not activate it yet.
“Are you ok?” the purple and blue armored bot blurted as the Insecticon revived.
The spaceport workers kindly direct Tokamak and Conjoint to the repair yard- a section of the complex consisting of multiple hangars outfitted with specialized tools and staffed by skilled technicians. At least, this is where civilian spacecraft are sent for repairs; Burthov has many docks reserved for military vessels, but these sections are off-limits to those without proper clearance.
@keiththelegokid A cybertronian transport sets down in an empty docking cradle in Burthov, connecting its airlocks to egress ramps that branch out from the cradle’s struts. The vessel’s passengers- a medley of beings from all across the galaxy- begin to disembark.
Maximus is allowed into the Basilica without much trouble, though the Knights and Angelicons do give Nova some puzzled looks as the predacon takes her into sections of the building not normally open to the public. There is no shortage of rooms that Nova could set up shop in to repair her mech.
Some visitors had begun to approach Firestorm, but they stopped short when one of the supposedly-inactive stasis pods breaks open and disgorges an insecticon. Most of the bots nearby stand back, frozen, unsure of what to do.
An hour later, Headcase’s patient leaves, and the doctor sees Kitai waiting by the entrance.
Conjoint folded his arms to pretend his not moving his hand or fingers was intentional. The repair yard was a little piece of home away from home; pieces of ships in different states, being welded, taken apart, or slapped back together. The smell of burning metal in an enclosed space was invigorating to Conjoint, and only then did he realized how weird of a thing that was.
Keep it to yourself, Conjoint. Don’t want people thinking you’re weird.
“I imagine it’s going to be difficult to track down the ship of one human amongst all this mess.” Conjoint nearly gestured with his arm before catching himself. “Also I should probably stop wheeling sideways before somebody asks questions, like ‘how come you can individually transform and utilize your feet without doing anything else’. Is that a thing for other people too, or is it just me?”
“Oh cool! When did–” Roaster is cutoff by the others starting to freak out. Seeing the reaction of the other bots around them, this clearly wasn’t a new interactive animatronic. She pockets that idea away for later, since that would an awesome feature to add.
Now looking at Headbite more as a person than attraction, Roaster tries to determine their construction and potential stasis wear. If this insecticon was from the Great War, that couldn’t have been good for it. Especially if they weren’t designed to be resting for this long.
“Calm down,” Roaster says, trying to get between Stonefist and Aralysa and the mantis, putting an arm’s length between. Her tone almost sounds annoyed, like a guest did something unfunny on her show.
Have they never seen a horror special? This is not what you should be doing. Well, the other option was immediately blasting the thing. Honestly, that is usually the best option. But at least they didn’t do that, it’s not like this is a monster that’s completely unknown.
“And put those away, they’re easily frightened. Let me handle this.” She tells them.
Now turning her face to Headbite, she says in a friend’s voice, “Hey there, glad you’re finally awake. Sorry you were in stasis for so long, there was an issue with your pod. We need to make sure you’re still functional. If you follow some quick tests, I’ll give you some treats. Would you like that?”
“It’s uncommon, but I’ve encountered a couple skaters. Easier to win the footraces that way.” Tokamak answered as he observed the vehicles. “Maybe we won’t find it here, the repairs could have been completed by now and the ship gone, but we can ask around about any weird ships they’ve worked on recently. Just need to phrase it correctly.”
Tokamak looks for whatever would be the customer service desk to chat with a representative.
“A-alright then.” Aralysa replied, and then the purple and blue-armored bot returned her weapon to her belt. Stonefist was less convinced, but grunted and lowered his rocky fists anyway. The gray-armored transformer still stood in a combat-ready stance, however.
The bot at the service desk is a male insecticon with a wide build and dull green armor. Engine grease coats the fingers of his six hands, and his eyes resemble a pair of goggles.
“Hey there,” he says in a rumbling voice. “Need something?”
“That’s surprising,” Headcase remarks. “At least, it is to me. But I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with that information.”
Once Maximus finds an available workshop, he opens the door and lets Nova in.
“Here ya go. Plenty of room to work, and plenty of privacy… probably. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
The predacon walked in and set all the purchased components on a clear work desk, while Nova followed him in.
“I’ll go ahead and come back here after a while just to check in and see how you’re doing, but until then you’ll be free to work in quiet.”
Nova set Gungnir’s head on the desk, then climbed out of the cockpit and hopped out next to it. She looked up to Maximus.
“Thanks again for all your help. I really do appreciate it.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Maximus said with a smile. With that he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
With the predacon out it was time to get to work. Nova tied her hair back so that it wouldn’t get in the way. She then grabbed her tools and approached this project with an eager grin.
The first step wasn’t too difficult. It would be easiest to fix the head before putting it back on the robot, so that’s exactly what she did. Replacing a broken eye, putting the comms radio back in place, all that sort of thing. All together it didn’t take long for her to finish.
After that she climbed back into Gungnir and used it to grab the head, moving the arms to hold it above the broken neck. After some fine adjustments to get the alignment right, she climbed back out and up on to the shoulder. She began the processes of reattaching head to body, which proved to be a much longer task. It wasn’t that it was particularly difficult. But it was certainly tedious and time consuming effort. Lots of repetitive motions that she was well familiar with.
As her hands set to work, her mind began to wander. Until surprisingly she began to sing. It was completely absentminded, done without thought or reason. Something to keep her thoughts busy while her hands ran on autopilot.
It was an old song. One she knew perfectly well by heart. One she heard many times before and dedicated many long nights to memorizing. But with an old song came many old memories. Lingering associations that inevitably came up as the music flowed through her mind.
She remembered a time when she was younger. Much younger. She could see the warm and smiling face of her mother. She remembered her singing as she tucked her into bed. A gentle hand brushed through her hair as her mother’s lullaby guided her to sleep.
Another memory passed. She was tucked in her father’s lap inside a space flight simulator. He sang her the same song as her mother. While he never could quite get all the words right, it never stopped him from trying. And seeing the stars slowly pass by along with the hum of the simulated engines, helped turn what was going to be a difficult night into a peaceful sleep.
Next was something special. She sat in her mother’s lap with her father sitting next to them. The three of them sat together on the roof of a building. It, along with everything else around them was covered in a heavy sheet of snow. It was late at night, and little Nova was wrapped up a fluffy jacket that was just bit too big for her. They looked up at the sky. It was a rare kind of night free from clouds. It gave them a gorgeous view of the stars above, but that wasn’t why they were outside. What was most captivating was the shimmering show of lights that danced through the sky. A dazzling aurora that trailed and weaved over their heads. It’s beautiful lights reflected off the snow covered ground. All the while her mother sang that same song.
Nova was abruptly pulled from her thoughts as she felt a droplet of water splash against the back of her hand. She looked at it curiously, then wiped her palm against her cheek. Surprised to find a wet trail running down her face. It seemed she had become so lost in thought that she hadn’t noticed when she started to cry.
Nova scrunched her eyes shut and wiped the tears away with her sleave. That’s enough of that. Just focus on the work.
She thought as she tried to push the memories out of her head.
But the mind can be a cruel thing. For the more she tried to push the unwanted memories out, the more they forced themselves in. And the more desperately she tried, the more unpleasant those memories became.
“But papa, it’s too early. Why do you and mama have to go?”
Just focus on something else. On anything else. Just not this.
“We’ve been over this kiddo. Patrol is part of what we do to keep people safe. It’s what heroes do, remember?”
Please, not this. Anything but this. Just stop.
“But you’re always gone so long! I’ll miss you!”
Just shut up! Why can’t this just stop! Please!
“I know Nova dear. Trust me, being out all day is just as hard for us as it is for you. But I promise we’ll be back in time for dinner, just like always.”
Nova’s vision blurred as water welled up in her eyes. She tried fighting it off, but she lost. She dropped her tools and sat down. She pulled her legs close to her chest and buried her face into her knees, sobbing quietly as the tears flowed freely.
Axis looked curiously at the picture.
“Forgive me if this is insensitive, I’m still not perfectly familiar with your history. But, did you know him?”
“Is this normal? Is this something that normally happens at museums here?”
Niko said, trying not to freak out.
“I sure hope not.” Stonefist replied, still a bit on edge after the unexpected failure of the pod. The rocky bot kept his optics on the Insecticon the whole time, ready to spring into action at the first hostile move.
“Axis Prime?” Headcase repeats. “You met her? Well, you’re very fortunate; if the Prime considered you a threat, life would get rather difficult for you, I suspect.”
“I’m… not sure I can be of much more help to you,” Headcase confesses.
“I am a skilled mnemosurgeon, if you’ll allow me to boast, but you are a unique case,” he explains. “Part of you is cybertronian, but the rest is quintesson biotechnology. I wasn’t trained to work with that.”
“I hope you can uncover more of it,” Headcase says empathetically. “It may take time, but if there’s anything else in there, buried in your subconscious mind, there must be some way to bring it out.”
