“Plenty of details on… all of them, actually,” she says, her eyes fixed on a point the others can’t see as she flicks between files. “Where do you want to start?”
The Angelicon exits the shuttle, searching for Axis as he disembarks. Spotting the Prime, he immediately runs over to her. He presents the journal of Sentinel Prime in his hands, showing her that it has made the flight back to Iacon safely.
The two, aboard their mech, pass by Roaster, Aralysa, and Headbite as they leave the building. Another day is beginning to dawn over Iacon now- one that will hopefully be much more peaceful than the last.
A minicon police officer stops by Roaster. His body was stick-like, and his “face” was a spotlight that gradually shifted from shades of red to blue in a loop.
“It’s more connected to the rest of the Imperium, now,” Overclock informs Stonefist. “It’s got space bridges, and the ports are more in line with interplanetary regs. The cannibals in the rings are also almost gone, which has made travel to the planet much more enticing.”
“Could you copy whatever data you have onto our system?” Watchdog requests. “I’ll give you temporary access.”
“That’s good.” Stonefist replied. “Hmmm. Might have to pay a visit there sometime.”
Conjoint harrumphed. “And good riddance to them, too. It was a perfectly respectable pile of garbage before the stench of organized crime seeped in.”
Roaster just barely notices the kitty mech leaving and almost called out to it. But no, the catboy would have to wait, had to find Mr. Bold first. Besides, at least the Minicon was cute. Reminded her of the merchandise she made.
“Oh hello there officer. Have you seen a bot called Stonefist around here? We were told he came with a couple others.” Roaster asked.
“It’s a nice place,” Overclock tells him. “Very rust-ic.”
“I prefer to think of it as a… well, I wouldn’t describe it so unflatteringly,” Watchdog replies. “One bot’s garbage is another’s treasure, after all. Or homeworld.”
“Yes, Stonefist is in conference room number five,” said the minicon, speaking in a rigid cadence. “He and the others he is with are being questioned over their participation in the attack on the Hall of Records yesterday morning.”
“Heh. That it is.” Stonefist replied with a chuckle.
At the mention of Stonefist’s name, Aralysa turned away from the consoles and towards the minicon officer talking with Roaster.
“Ah, so that’s where he is. Good to know.”
“Thank you. Do you think they’ll mind if a few more join them?”
It’s tomorrow already?! When did I miss the night again! Ah-
“Eh, I wouldn’t use that term, but it definitely has a style to it.” Conjoint replied.
“…Wait was that a pu-”
“It ain’t the most scenic place, but I do have attachment to that old lump of metal. I still fondly remember the last time I drove off that one gorge to end it all, and the view - can’t beat it.”
“I mean um.” He badly pretended to cough. “So, these criminals sure are criminal-ing, aren’t they?”
While the others talk, Snowblind gives another check through her files, making sure that there’s nothing obvious that would tell of their source.
“Very well done. I’ll be taking it off your hands now so that may continue our investigation.”
Nova looked with a shocked and irritated expression as she looked at the rising sun.
“By the gods, you can’t be serious.”
“What’s the problem?”
“The sun is rising. Again. What do you think the problem is?”
Nova asked, even more frustrated by having to point out the obvious.
“So it’s early. I don’t see what’s wrong.”
“I haven’t slept in two days! I got here the morning of the festival! AUGGHHH! What the hell is with this planet!”
“So… are we still going to the museum?”
“Are you insane? I need some rest. Head for the Primal Basilica. It’s the big tower-y thing in the middle of the city. You can’t miss it.”
Niko replied, trying not to sound disappointed. Though he was certainly disappointed. Niko was really hoping to get to know this girl, but it seemed the walk to the Basilica might be all the time he might get. Better than nothing he supposed.
Depending on how many people were actually paying attention to Conjoint’s dramatic mannerisms, it would be possible to see the Junkion bot twitch slightly, and for a moment his expression turned to the side in the form of a wicked grin. It didn’t last long, however, as he went back into acting awkward the very next moment.
Synced it. Man, I can’t wait to test this thing out.
Graves’ mech shakes its head. “I tried to reason with them, but they didn’t listen. I assume any number of people in here will tell you the same.”
“Not at all,” the minicon drones. “Conference room five is on the left side of the hallway behind me.”
Overclock raises an eyebrow, clearly concerned by Conjoint’s allusion to an attempted suicide.
“Are you… alright?” she asks him.
Hotfoot had been thorough- the files likely couldn’t be traced back to him.
“By your will.” the Angelicon bows his head. He hands the journal to Axis, before departing to return to the Primal Basilica.
“Thanks again,” Roaster tells the Minicon and heads for conference room five. As she goes, she calls to Headbite, “We’ll be right back! Have fun with the consoles.”
“Sounds good. We should probably head there.” Aralysa said to Roaster, and then started walking to where the minicon had indicated.
The door to the conference room is unlocked. It’s packed with many familiar faces from the attack, along with footage playing on a screen, and a pair of police officers conducting the questioning.
“Look - at - that. They’re having a movie night without us! The audacity.” Roaster announces as she enters and takes in the scene.
Aralysa looks around for the police officer who seemed to be leading the questioning, and as her gaze wandered across the room, her blue-colored optics fell upon Stonefist, who was in conversation with a multicolored Junkion and another officer.
“It’s not exactly a party, miss,” Watchdog says with a chuckle as Roaster enters. “I’m afraid we forgot to provide refreshments.”
The captain looks down at a clock on his tablet, seeing that he and Overclock have lost track of the time and kept our heroes-to-be a little ways into the morning.
“Hm. Time does fly, doesn’t it?” he mutters to himself. “Better start wrapping this up…”