“Yes, I was,” Beta answers Aralysa while responding to Stonefist with a short wave. “It was rather remarkable, watching them work. Though part of me wished that they’d included me in the display,” he says with a small laugh.
“Then again, I suppose there isn’t much need to immortalize me, all considered.”
With her curious nature intrigued, Aralysa asked the ancient minicon,
“What was life like back in those days?”
At this remark, Stonefist perked up his audio sensors as well. He figured it’d be interesting to listen to, at least.
“Well, understand that, despite my timeless nature, I am susceptible to nostalgia,” Beta Maxx says, looking away from the statues now as if to turn his gaze inward, to the distant past. “But if you want my personal assessment of that time, I’d have to say that it was quite exciting. In those first centuries after Unicron’s first death, everything was new. We were an army of war machines learning to remake ourselves into an actual civilization; we were hopeful of what lay in store for us, and what we might achieve. I don’t believe that any era of cybertronian history since has been able to reproduce that. Though again, my own fondness for the time may be coloring my perception of things.”
“A most odd speech, it wouldn’t happen to be Quintess, would it? I don’t believe i’ve ever heard it spoken, but it matches the attempted Cybertronized (OOC: Think like Romanization IRL) text i’ve seen.”
“Wow, it must’ve been great living back then. So many new things.” Aralysa replied, trying to imagine what Cybertron looked like all those many, many years ago. Nostalgia was also something Stonefist was familiar with. Though the rocky bot wasn’t quite as old as Beta Maxx.
“Yes,” she replies. “Until now, we mainly worked in a lab down south of here, where we were trying out several medical experiments involving Cybertronian parts returned to us by the humans. Unfortunately, the lab was shut down when it turned out that one of the lead scientists was trying to sell secret documents to a pirate group that the government was trying to exterminate. We got off pretty lightly, though, only having to surrender my medical license and Oreo’s prior weapons. His Overcharger we purchased on the way to Iacon. Some guy at the lab had one that he took from some pirates.”
Firestorm was still with the prisoners.
“Quintess, whats that?” Kitai said, feigning stupidity.
“It was certainly idyllic.” Beta Maxx nods. “But, it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, as the humans say. The galaxy was a much more dangerous place than it is today. There were the quintessons, of course, and also plenty of would-be conquerors native our own universe. And that’s to say nothing of the state of interstellar piracy. The present is not without its merits.”
The mercenaries all barely react as they feel the Pulsar land. There is a soft, barely-perceptible shake as the ship rests on her landing gear, and a subtle shift as the artificial gravity and inertial dampeners deactivate.
“Where are we now?” one asks, though she doesn’t expect much of an answer.
Stonefist chuckled at this.
“That’s for sure. Things were pretty different back when I was a protoform.” the rocky transformer remarked. Aralysa smiled at that comment. Whenever the topic of age came up, Stonefist always said something like this.
“That is need to know.” Firestorm says.
————————
Seraphicon flies over the Tomb and smiles, “brings back memories.” He chuckles as he makes his landing approach.
“Just how old are you, Stonefist?” Beta Maxx asks the rocky cybertronian.
“Figures,” the mercenary woman sighs. Outside the improvised cell, Overgrowth gathers the humans’ weapons, helmets, and explosives.
“I will be taking our guests’ equipment to the cargo hold,” she tells Firestorm.
If the guards by the Tomb’s entrance notice Seraphicon, or any of our heroes at all, they don’t show it. They continue to stand stock-still, holding their weapons out in front of them.
Firestorm nods, “Thanks, Overgrowth.” He says.
——————————
“Good day, folks,” Seraphicon says as he fishes out a data pad, “need my papers for working here?” He asks.
Axis came to the makeshift cell and poked her head through the door.
“Firestorm, can I have you for a moment?”
She asked.
“We’re working with your almighty god queen here. Are we seriously gonna need paperwork?”
Nova complained.
“Yeah,” Firestorm says, stepping out and locking the door behind him.
————————
“I was referring to our armed friends over there considering the importance of this site.” Seraphicon chuckles, “you never know if you need documentation sometimes when poking around places like this nowadays.”
While Axis and Firestorm talk, Overgrowth leaves to put the mercenaries’ equipment in an empty crate in the cargo hold. She also retrieves the humans’ mech, which had remained magnetized to the outer hull even after Kitai has torn its pilot out of the cockpit. She drags it through the Pulsar’s corridors to store it with the rest of the confiscated weaponry, and the halls echo with the grinding of the vehicle’s feet against the floor.
The black-armored Knight pulls his weapon to his side. His face consists of a visor with two thin slits filled with red light, and a pointed mouthplate beneath it.
“No documentation is necessary, sir,” he says to Seraphicon. “The Tomb of the Primes is open to all; you and your companions may enter at your leisure.”
“Firestorm, my old friend. Would you be willing to safeguard my predecessor’s journal while you explore the Tomb? I don’t plan on joining you all, for various reasons. I was hoping for you to take it in my stead.”
The Prime offered.
“Sounds good to me.”
Nova replied. She confidently walked in. But the moment she set foot into the Tomb, a low and rumbling groan echoed out the hall. Accompanied by a very mild draft.
“For thousands of years I’ve laid dormant. Who dares disturb my slumber?”
The voice boomed from within.
“W-what the hell is that???”
Niko stammered, thoroughly spooked.
“I hope our prisoners remain under constant watch.” Firestorm says as he accepts the journal.
—————————
“Okay, who’s being dramatic today?” Seraphicon asks as he approaches, “Friends of the current Prime and bearer of the Matrix of Leadership.” He calls into the tomb.
“Overgrowth has promised to keep an eye on them. I trust her to do a good job.”
Axis replied.
“I am the spirit lost Prime. Forgotten and abandoned by time. Enter at your own risk. For inside you will only find your DOOM!”
The voice echoed, making sure to say doom as dramatically as possible.
Seraphicon runs a scan for life forms.
“Oh, forgotten Prime, what is your name?” Seraphicon asks, playing along because it amused him.
———————
Firestorm nods, “then I’d better get going.”
“Stay safe, Axis.” Dark says as they run off.