Facelift turns, and his singular eye lights up.
“Well!” he cheerfully exclaims, “Help is what I’m here for! A bit of profit-making and escape from unsavory characters, too, but mostly helping!”
“Professional recommendations suggest plenty of rest and avoidance of strenuous activities- such as heavy lifting or combat- for a minimum of four days,” the drone says. It was mainly programmed to assist in medical matters, and so Actaeon might have been asking questions that were somewhat beyond its function.
Grommet helps Sprocket to his feet- the two were likely going to sickbay to treat their wounds.
“I must go,” Shockwave says. “I will oversee the disposal of the Dark Energon and terrorcon remains.”
Little Iacon had suffered little new damage in the terrorcon/heretic attack. Indeed, efforts were still underway to repair the buildings damaged in the insecticon attack a few days earlier. Autobots, Decepticons, and neutrals wander about, some doing their part to assist in the repairs, while others went on other errands.
Halfrunner steps inside the Antillian Sunrise, a shallow cut scratched into his left shoulder. He and SideStep were the only ones in the bar, currently.
“Hey!” he says with a friendly wave. “Can I get you something?”