Transformers: Salvation

Actaeon briefly smiles, he had some hope in cybertronian kind restored that moment.


@ProfSrlojohn
Scrapshot was lying in the park. The green autobot was lying down and seemed comfortable as he lazed.

Zepar tries to open the door, “Stuff from the Golden Age always manages to have a few surprises in store when you think you’ve found everything there is to find.” He said.

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Before long, Requiem-IX and the cleanup crew had finished work. Actaeon was sure to be payed, once the current situation involving Salvation and her crew being in mortal peril was resolved.

Speaking of such…


@MaxinePrimal From his nest in Engineering, Broadwing might hear Greasemonkey’s side of an argument with Flyby that he was having over the comms.

“Well ! I suppose that’s what happens when you initiate a jump without a properly-charged transwarp drive, now isn’t it? If even the smallest iota of the cells’ energies aren’t catalyzed, the resulting warp field-… Well! How truly unfortunate, then, that someone on the selection committee chose such incompetent bots to have run of the ship! ‘The finest of either faction’ indeed!”

“…We don’t have time for standard phase re-calibrations and a gradual reinsertion! I’m going to initiate an emergency drive shutdown, whether you-… Yes, I’m well aware of the risks, but all that’s far better than blowing a hole in space-time and reducing us to cosmic dust!”


Grommet nods.

“Evidently…” he agrees.

The door does not budge. Zepar might’ve been missing something.

Grommet points to the Omega Map.

“There’s something that Sprocket would do with the handle, whenever he wanted to get it to project the map…”

Once the work was finished he heads towards Requiem-IX.
“Unless I missed something I haven’t been notified about Gearbox yet, so I assume they are still repairing him.”

“Bot’s probably fighting them doctors tooth and claw,” Shakedown chuckles.

Toss-up shakes his head.

“He’s always had no sense in who to pick his battles with,” the twin sighs. “Dumber than you, Shakedown, in that respect.”

" ‘Ey! Didn’ we decide earlier I’m the next Beta Maxx?"

“I don’ recall nobody 'cept you doing the deciding.”

“What did he do?” Zepar asked as he felt the handle for some kind of button or switch that would make the Key project the map.

The handle felt like it could be pulled out slightly.

“I don’t know,” Grommet admits. “He’s the one who spends his time fawning over these old toys, not me.”

Actaeon smiles,
“I hope he’s fighting, because then we know he’s still doing well, though I believe that means his leader will need to have a talk with him. I’m guessing he got that injury from a reckless stunt?”"

Zepar tries to pull on the handle without accidentally pulling the key out.

“I guess toys is a fair thing to call Golden Age tech,” Zepar chuckled, “considering how most of them involve solving some sort of puzzle to or find them.”

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Breakout nods.

“The coin-colored hatchling charged right at one of them terrorcons, thinkin’ he was some kinda commando,” he recalls.


The handle extends, connected to the rest of the key now only by a few dark-grey rods. A soft snapping sound is heard, and the handle wobbles slightly, as if it could now be rotated.

Grommet chuckles and nods.

Zepar carefully twists the key.

OOC: in which direction does Zepar twist the handle? It’s important.

IC: Grommet watches, intrigued despite himself.

OOC: counterclockwise.

IC: Zepar is ready to try twisting the other direction if the key feels like it’s going to break.

The handle rotates counterclockwise, but nothing happens. Perhaps this wasn’t the right way.

The key feels very sturdy and well made. In the right conditions and with only occasional maintenance, many pieces of Golden Age technology could last almost indefinitely.

Zepar then tries to rotate it clockwise.

This, it seemed, was the correct way to go about it. A blue liquid- energon, perhaps?- seeps from the four lights on the Omega Map, though in utter defiance of gravity it flows to the side, as if being pulled toward the door. The door begins to slowly spin as its four sections start to peel apart.

“Well this should be a good reminder for him in the future, on battle tactics and correctly spacing yourself in such battles, so you do not get overwhelmed, and so a random grenade won’t just destroy the entire squad.”

Zepar stood his ground, watching as the door slowly opened.

Blight and Pixel stomp through the Salvation, attempting to find some way to the bar.

Broadwing decided to fly down and see what was going on.

“Is there ever any moment wen we aren’t on the feather’s edge of complete annihilation?”
Broadwing asked casually, having come accustomed to the frequent goings on around the ship.

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