“Primus Scrap it…” He said, his voice no longer booming like it had been and clearly looking dejected, at least, as best as can be discerned from body language. “Well ma’am, I apologize for the scare, and for the inconvenience. I got ahead of myself. Is there some way I can make up the distress to you? It would not behoove me to leave you uncompensated.”
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For once the stranger actually managed to surprise her. The sudden and drastic change in disposition caught Axis off guard. Though she did little to show it.
“Well you can start by telling me who you are, and why you’re so interested in Sentinel Prime’s journal.”
“That doesn’t look good.”
Maximus said.
“Let me guess. We’re going to abandon whatever plans you had to begin with and check this out instead.”
Nova replied in a mildly irritated tone.
“I just want to make sure things aren’t too bad, and see if there’s anyway I can help.”
Maximus said as he followed the EMT crew down to the Great War exhibit hall. Eventually reaching the group that had gathered around Headbight.
“What’s the situation here?”
He asked as he approached.
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Seeing that Aralysa was busy with Roaster and Headbite, Stonefist spoke up.
“Uh, it’s complicated. But it turned out that this stasis pod over here,” he said, gesturing at its broken pieces, “wasn’t quite deactivated.”
The bot would turn around back to her at her question, his lights brightening a bit. “My designation is LD-L1, and I am a proud member of the Followers of the Primes Ascendant, and faithful servant of the gods.” he explained, bowing a bit as a sort of courtesy. If Axis was familiar with Earth history and cultures, particularly that of 1800s Europe, She would be familiar with the gesture. “My sacred duty was to guard and safekeep that journal, a relic of the Gods.”
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Roaster doesn’t say anything when Stonefist comments on Headbite’s condition, just looks at him disappointed face of, “could you not?” An expression that did not remain long, watching Headbite sample her work. She puts one hand up to her mouth to muffle a giggle from seeing Headbite, in fact, bite off the cracker’s head first.
To Aralysa’s comment Roaster says, “I didn’t do all those experiments for nothin’.”
Also didn’t have much choice, she thought before Maximus and company came in. Seeing the Prime’s guard here was perplexing and wondered who would bother the Prime over a Insecticon? . . . Aside from it being an old Decepticon weapon by technicality. Yeah, that probably did it.
“Everything’s fine, just a new friend who has been in stasis for far too long. That’s all.”
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“Something right up your alley, hopefully.” She leans in, checking over her shoulder out of habit. “Those 'bots I was fighting–I want to know who they are. Criminal records, frequent hangouts, usual accomplices–whatever you can get me.”
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One of Headbite’s antenna perked up with that stasis pod comment. That was concerning, but it was probably best to trust her new friend over asking questions now…after all she couldn’t think very well…
So she ate another cookie.
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The EMTs proceed Maximus into the museum’s Great War section, and begin gathering the details of the situation from those around them, while also scanning Headbite with their own equipment. Their scans give them much the same results as the museum’s emergency scanner had given Roaster.
“I’ve already been working on that,” Hotfoot says proudly. “Figured you or somebody else would come asking. I’m still digging, but I’ve already got something on the human woman who was with them. I’ll send the file your way.”
A second later, the console chirps as it receives a Hotfoot’s dossier. “Her name is Viktoriya Kaidanovsky,” he tells Snowblind. “Alias ‘Night Witch’- pretty dramatic, huh?”
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“Hotfoot, you’re the best,” she says with a smile. She taps at the console, accessing the file.
“Well, they certainly have a name. Has she worked with Cybertronians before?”
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Axis looked at LD-L1 with a confused expression.
“I’m sorry. You’ve lost me. I’m not familiar with the order you speak of, and Sentinel’s journal is in no way divine. Unless Primus himself happened to take a personal interest in the thing, which honestly wouldn’t surprise me.”
Maximus nodded.
“Alright, glad to see everything is okay. I just saw the medics rush in and wanted to see if I could help.”
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“Yes, she has,” Hotfoot confirms. “In fact, she used to be some kinda NEST commando before she became a mercenary.”
Reading into the file he’d sent her, Snowblind would see that Hotfoot is telling the truth. Viktoriya was born on Amity and served in NEST, but was dishonorably discharged some thirty-two years ago for disobeying orders and jeopardizing a mission to apprehend an arms dealer. According to what Hotfoot has found, she’s worked as a mercenary ever since, being hired by warlords and private militaries across the galaxy. Perhaps because of her background, she has fought frequently alongside cybertronian freelancers.
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“Ah. My apologies, I forget I am speaking with the uninitiated. It is not the journal that is divine, but the Lord Sentinel Prime himself. As are all primes that have ascended.”
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“So an old NEST commando gets hired to blow up the Hall of Records and steal the old Prime’s journal… sure, why not.” She frowns. “I don’t think I saw any other humans there. Right? Just our little ‘Night Witch’ here?”
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“That’s nice of you.” Roaster says and then turns her attention to the EMTs. Asking about what they found, swapping notes, and what their plans are for Headbite. She has more she’d like to say to Maximus, but that depends on the EMTs’ plans.
Elsewhere, while still in the port, Tokamak decides to look for some shops. Anything that could allow him to buy some parts to build three new car drones.
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“The only other humans I saw were some guy in mech suit and another woman with Maximus, but it looked like they were working with you and the others you were fighting with,” Hotfoot reports. “The other terrorists are all cybertronian.”
“This woman needs extensive repairs,” one of the EMTs says to Roaster. “We’d like to take her with us, if she’ll allow it.”
Most of the shops in Burthov are selling starship parts or novelties, but some junkion traders are selling some assorted components that Tokamak could use to build some new drones.
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Having gotten plenty of these looks from Aralysa, Stonefist knew when he needed to shut up. He nodded his head hastily and closed his mouth.
“Out of curiosity, where exactly did you learn to do that?” Aralysa asked, her curiosity piqued. Just then, the Hecatan bot noticed that the EMTs had arrived and was about to reply to Maximus when one of the medics said,
“Hmmm.” Aralysa thought, considering their options as well as Headbite’s current condition. The purple and blue-armored transformer decided to wait for Roaster to speak up. She was the one that took charge, after all.
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Glad that the EMTs seemed to agree with her assessment, Roaster felt a pang with that question. Would she allow it? Roaster looks over at Headbite, watching her nibble on another cracker.
Would she allow it? No, no you’re asking the wrong question. Will I allow it. Absolutely not. Not without me.
“She will but only if I come along, she won’t trust you. And if any bodywork is to be done, only I can do it.” Roaster says and then puts up a hand to preemptively stop any argument.
“I am Sandbag’s finest graduated pupil, I have constructed an entire hive’s worth of Insecticons, and even a queen to some of them. I dare you to find a more qualified bot to work on Headbite.”
Now Roaster never knew if her title of honorary queen was true. The Hex Queen was probably just a marketing nickname, but she did create a ton of crawlers, pets and people both. If sapient Insecticons didn’t think her as such, she made enough little bugs on her show to be thought of as a hive queen. And it was that experience that told her Headbite wouldn’t be willing to go alone.
Headbite was from a time when Insecticons were despised, feared, and weaponized. Even now they could be considered a nuisance. But no matter how creepy or potentially damaging, they were all cool. And even though the EMTs meant well, Roaster could not risk Headbite freaking out.
Tokamak would pay with whatever coin he has and will spend quite some time building the drones.
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( @Chromeharpoon )
Ivory, finishing his talks with the local law enforcement, decided to go ask around with the library staff, perhaps he could puzzle out what is so important about the journal. He’d been told to ask for a “Velichor”
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The EMT is surprised to find himself in the presence of such an apparently accomplished craftswoman. You didn’t meet master sculptors every day.
“Of course, ma’am,” he says, “if Headbite agrees to come with us, you’ll come, too. And even if she doesn’t, it sounds like she’ll still be in good hands.”
Tokamak has enough money on him to buy parts to fully replenish his drone arsenal. The pieces were all of good quality, too- the junkions ask Tokamak to not think too hard about where they may have come from.
Velichor, the curator of the Hall of Records, is inside the library’s tower, inspecting the damage done to the building’s interior.
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“So how does a human get hired for a gig in the heart of Cybertronian space?” she muses, mostly to herself. “Word of mouth? Maybe the employer is an old contact.” She shrugs. “I guess she’s been running in a lot of Cybertronian circles, it’s not too odd.”
“What about the others, then? Got anything on the chainsaw slasher?”
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