“If you’re trying to intimidate me with that little display there, hon, you’re gonna need to find yourself some bigger guns,” Riveter says to Nova, looking rather unimpressed by the Orion mech’s hardware. “I used to build warp cannons- little human peashooters don’t scare me.”
“Forgive her, ma’am,” Overgrowth says, stepping forward. “She is a human juvenile, and thus prone to irrational actions.”
The Knight holds one hand in front of Nova and shoots her a quick, cautionary look. “She does, however, speak truly, as does my other companion,” she continues.
These humans here," she says, pointing down to the disarmed mercenaries at her feet, “are the ones responsible for the damages to your vessel, and we are indeed ready and willing to pay for its repairs.”
Riveter takes in a deep breath and holds it for a moment, the plating around her right eye twitching as she does. “Alright,” she sighs. “Let me have a look at everything that’s broken, and I’ll work out a number for y’all. But after this, you’re gonna need to go trouble somebody else if you’re gonna need a ship again.”
There is no sign of the Junkion ship that LD-L1 borrowed to reach the Tomb of the Primes, or its pilot. The vessel must have returned earlier, and the pilot must have gone elsewhere. She might hold on to those funny coins that she was given, though; she’d need proof when bragging to her friends that she played a part, if a minor one, in the latest struggle for the fate of the universe.
Firestorm discovers that much of the footage on the card is corrupted. Accessible fragments show orbital views of Cybertron’s northern hemisphere, and brief snippets of the attempted boarding action from earlier; but if there’s anything more than can be salvaged, our heroes may need to seek out help.
In ages past, the building Viktorya is staying in now was once an Energon depot. Since the end of the Great Exile, however, it’s been converted into a kind of hotel for alien tourists visiting Cybertron. The place seems comfortable enough, and a holographic sign by the front entrance proudly displays favorable reviews left by previous guests.
There is a stack of depleted energon cubes at the back of the hotel, by the waste receptacles. One of the empty metal boxes, though, lacks the grime and faded paint of the rest. Periodically, one of its panels will ripple, and a yellow robotic eye will poke out and have a look around when nobody’s watching…
Out in the hills, far from cybertronian civilization, an enormous six-wheeled vehicle sits. A massive door in its front lies open, leading into a small cargo bay in which ten cybertronians, all with black armor decorated with glowing symbols, kneel before small altars, clean ancient artifacts, or speak with their offworld brethren via transwarp communicators. These are more of the Followers of the Primes Ascendant, and this vehicle is their mobile chapel, the Anchorite. In the vehicle’s control room, another one of these cultists speaks to their leader, telling tale of what he had seen earlier in the day.
“I could scarcely believe it myself!” the Follower in question- the grey-and-purple bot seen at the Tomb of the Primes- exclaims. “At Lady Axis Prime’s command, all her predecessors came to life once more! The necropolis then lit up, as if the darkness had been dispelled by her words!”
The Adjunct Deificus, a regal-looking bot with a glowing ring laid into the top of her head like a kind of crown or tiara, leans forward in her seat, intrigued. She looks over at the other bot’s cell leader, a man she had known and trusted for some time now, for a comment.
“This is also what he told me,” the Patronica Deificus tells her. “The Matrix has been known to conjure apparitions before, in the old legends.”
The Adjunct Deificus nods, and looks back to the grey-and-purple cultist. “What happened next?” she asks him in a low rasp.
The cultist, a mere Follower de Deificus called FD-O2, shakes his head in dismay. “I don’t know,” he reports. “The Tomb’s guards escorted all visitors to the surface at Seraphicon’s command- perhaps he did not wish for these spirit’s great words to fall upon the ears of the unworthy. The group stayed down there for some time, but they returned to their ship with a renewed vigor. Some of them spoke of visiting Liege Maximo after they returned to Iacon.”
The Adjunct Deificus scoffs. “As if he would have anything useful to say,” she snorts.
“I am as perplexed as you are, Holy One,” FD-O2 says. “Regardless, it seems that Astrum is where they are going next. What shall we do?”
The Patronica Deificus looks expectantly to the Adjunct, and she leans back, resting her chin in one hand while she thinks. “I shall contact the Astrum cells,” she decides. “We know Liege Maximo is not to be trusted, even if the current Prime and her allies do not. We must thwart any attempt he makes to betray them and take this power that Lord Sentinel Prime spoke of for himself.”
