Thrift provides adequate directions.
Broadwing rushed Torchwing there, taking a few minutes to get him there.
âForcep! I need help!â
He shouted as he entered.
Actaeon transforms and flies to Deck 1. He would go guns blazing once he saw some enemies.
âAight, bye!â Thrift farewells as the two leave. âHave fun savinâ our afts and⌠and⌠whoa,â he says, his speech slurring.
"Iâve, uh⌠it seems Iâve lost a fair amount of Energon⌠"
The merchant holds up a finger, before collapsing on the floor and falling into stasis lock. He is quickly tended to by a Decepticon engineer.
Soon Actaeon arrives at the conflict: Autobot and allied Decepticon soldiers were being pushed back by terrorcons who had once been Knights of Cybertron. The ancient metal comprising their bodies was rusted and torn, and pieces of scrap and droplets of Dark Energon occasionally fell from their bodies and onto the deck. Behind the mob, some deceased soldiers could be seen rising as Dark Energon reanimated them.
Actaeon transformed and blasted at the terrorcons with his ion blaster, before transforming into his flight-mode again and pelting them with his sub-sonic repeaters.
Broadwing walked into the med bay and looked for a spare CR chamber.
Three terrorcons are cut to pieces, falling in a spray of metal shards and Dark Energon. One leaps up at the flying Actaeon from the side.
Forcep wasnât in a med-bay, unfortunately. He was right outside hangar thirty-one, treating the wounded crew members who were fighting back against the heretic forces storming the hangar. Though there wasnât a CR chamber around, Forcep still had the tools and knowledge necessary to patch up anybody who needed it.
âSurrender now,â the drawling voice of Obsidian could be heard demanding above the gunfire within the hangar, âand you might live to see a glorious new Cybertron.â
âOr donât,â Strika offers conversely. âThat would be more fun.â
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Actaeon transforms into his robot-mode and falls, though the terrorcon would still most likely collide with him. In preparation for this, Actaeon unsheathes his energon blades ready to strike.
Seeing as Torchwing was gravely wounded, and he wasnât looking too good himself, Broadwing left the hangar intentionally. He wanted to get as far away from the danger as possible. Which is why he was looking for a medical bay and a CR chamber.
In the ventilation shafts of the Salvation, a very upset Blight wakes to a terrifying sight.
âYou,â he growls at the Minicon.
âA-a-a-a-a-awake?â Pixel queries, kicking an empty vial behind him.
Blight noticed this, optic narrowed. âHey, thatâs- Thatâs mine! What did you drink from it?â
Pixel shrugs, attempting to hide the container. âNo&*thing!â
âSure,â the medic spits, taking notice of his surroudings. âWait, howâd I get in here? I- I canât move?â He looked back at Pixel. âWhat did you do?â
A whistle came from the Miniconâs speaker as he shamefully stepped backwards.
Blight recognized a small drop of liquid in the vial; it was yellow. âYou drugged me?â
Pixel whined a giggle and scrambled away, though Blight was not able to move through the vents anyways.
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Zepar led the others as quickly and quietly as he could down the old shipâs hallways, trying to get back to the Salvation.
The terrorcon does indeed collide with Actaeon, and claws madly at the bot, shrieking the usual unholy screams that terrorcons were known for.
The nearest medical bay wasnât hard to find, and was packed with wounded crew members and medics. Broadwing had arrived just in time, for all but one of its CR chambers were occupied.
Both Pixel and Blight here the sounds of battle echoing through the vents from the corridors beyond: gunfire, call-outs from both crew members and heretic Decepticons, and the screeches of the undead.
Soon Zepar and company reach an airlock which would allow them to leave the interior of the derelict.
âOf course,â grunted Blight. âFirst he drugs me, and then traps me when greasinâ zombies are coming to eat out my circuit boards.â
Broadwing quickly ran in and placed his friend in his friend in the chamber.
âOkay, letâs hope none of us need spacesuits.â He growled as he tried to open the airlock.
Epsilon tries to fight off the hostile Decepticons.
The chamber slides shut, and begins its work. Unfortunately, Great War-era CR chambers werenât as advanced as the ones that would debut in the following twenty million years; Torchwing would be in there a while.
OOC: there are heretic Decepticons in hangar thirty-one, Engineering, and the science labs. Where is Epsilon?
IC:
The airlockâs controls flicker to life, and the spherical door groans as it peels away into the floor.
OOC: Epsilon is heading for Shockwaveâs lab. Cyclopes gotta look out for one another.
IC: Zepar tries to lead his group through the airlock.
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Suddenly, Blight feels himself moving. âWait, whatâs happening?â he calls, but receives no reply. He feels something pushing him. It was too slow to make much progress, but fast enough to notice.
An explosion blows out the vent from underneath Blight, likely causing him and his unknown helper to fall into the corridor below.
In the science wing, Sprocket, Grommet, and Shockwave could be seen fending off a squadron of six Ground troopers. Sprocket and Grommet crouched behind cover that had deployed from the floor, while Shockwave stood in the middle of the hall, absorbing the hard light projectiles fired from the Ground Troopersâ rifles.
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Blight falls face first to the floor, groaning in discomfort. âWhat was that?â
âS-sorry!â Pixel pleaded, standing on Blightâs back. âI j-JUST wanted to H-E-L-#()@()!-P!â
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