2017-08-06 The Living Ship

From Transformers: Lost and Found

The Living Ship
Date 2017/08/06
Location Space
Participants Mirage, Blast Off, Moonlight
Plot Artifacts of the Knights of Cybertron
Scene GM Adagio
Summary Blast Off, Mirage, and Moonlight search for another artifact, which HAPPENS to be on a living ship that has been rather badly damaged.


Reports of another artifact signal came in, and without further ado, several Lost Lighters were space bridged to far-off coordinates. They will emerge in what appears to be a curving hallway, just tall enough for an average Cybertronian to fit without ducking too much. A smallish porthole set in one wall depicts deep space, shimmering behind some kind of atmospheric bubble.

At first glance this appears to be a rather ordinary ship hallway, though strangely decorated. There are chairs that just might fit a small-sized Cybertronian overturned here and there, dim green lights coming from patterns on the ceiling and walls that spread like veins and pulse softly, and no other apparent occupants. At least here.

But something is very wrong, or at least unfamiliar. The material they stand on doesn't feel like metal. The floor is made of something translucent and chitinous, strong enough to support their weight but making a different sort of sound as they land on it. The walls, which display an ever-changing pattern of faded grey designs, seem to have a thin, transparent sheen over them that gives slightly if touched. Those vein-like lights? They certainly do look a lot like actual veins, and if one watches carefully, the walls very slowly pulse. As if breathing.

Mirage is one of the first to emerge from the space bridge, faceplates shifting into a look of disgust at the squish his pede makes when it hits the floor. He does not notice the pulsing walls, not yet, but he has plenty of other things to distract him. His golden optics lock on the greenish veins. "... What an odd choice in lighting," he mutters.

He glances back at the others coming through the space bridge, raising a hand to draw attention in his direction. "I see no reason to linger in a place with such hideous decor. Shall I scout ahead?" he asks, the tips of his digits starting to disappear as he onlines his cloaking. If anyone can get the lay of the land, and quickly, it is he.

Blast Off isn't very impressed when he emerges, either. The Head of Navigation gives Mirage a nod. "Yes, scout ahead and inform us of what you find." He glances up and around, a slight limp still apparent in his left leg and a bandage still on his right arm where he got hit with a missile recently. Ugh. "This had better not be some living thing's insides, I don't care to get digested today." He takes a scanner and begins reading the hallway for any clues.

It takes Moonlight a moment to orient herself, having never been through a space bridge. But after that moment, it's apparent that this isn't a standard Cybertronian ship. It's not even a standard organics ship, since those are mostly made of metal too, which is something that Moonlight knows very well. She doesn't know Mirage personally, so she just shrugs. "I'm not much of a scout," she demurs. "But be careful where you walk; this obviously came from something that was once alive." The thought occurs to her that it might STILL be alive. A scout might be going ahead, and Blast Off might be using his scanners, but the femme gently puts her hands on the wall, carefully enough that if it IS alive, she won't harm it. She spent a very long time working with non-metallic beings, and knows how to pull her strength around such things.

Though the substance of the wall gives to Moonlight's hand, it's still unclear what it's made of. At most she can tell it's soft and seems to move on its own, but there's a harder layer underneath. However, her touch seems to wake something up.

The walls flicker bright white for a moment, changing color-pigment?-beneath that filmy layer, briefly displaying information in an unreadable alien language. A voice emerges from creases and vents in the corners, filling the hallway. "Guests?" it asks. It sounds a little like if a frog could talk.

Then an eye opens on the wall, and then another and another. The walls fill with black eyes with white pupils, all of them peering at the Cybertronians while similarly froggy voices ask "Guest? Guest? Are you a guest? Do I have a guest? Guests? Actual guests! I have guests. It's been so long, so long, guests! Welcome to-welcome to-welcome to---"

The voice fades out in a crackle, and the eyes shut and vanish. Mirage, if he looks ahead, will notice they only appeared in that one space of the hallway, which curves around as if it's on the inner deck of a ship.

The voice starts up again. "I-damaged. Sorry. Come to grand ballroom? Can I can I communicate better there." Ahead, a seam opens up in the inner wall and rapidly forms into a set of ornate double-doors, opening inward.

Blast Off's scanner will indicate that there's an artifact further in, and possibly below them somewhere, though there are no visible elevators or staircases nearby. It's still a bit faint but close enough that they are at least on the right...ship?

Mirage begins to fade from sight, moving ahead to follow Blast Off's orders. He can't yet tell if this ship is abandoned. They will have to be careful before venturing much further (in the off chance they are mistaken for stowaways). The scout does not get very far, however, before Moonlight's touch reawakens the ship. He catches just the briefest glance of the hallway ahead before he is distracted.

The scout's optics snap back to the scene behind him, a little shocked to see the very fabric of the walls and ceiling shift. His cloaking fades as his concentration slips. Strange or not, though, the scout has seen odder. Organics come in all shapes and sizes. It would be rude to comment. Nor is there much use in scouting ahead now that they have been discovered. If there is something to see, the other people on this ship will already be alerted and prepared. Straightening his posture, the scout dips into a slight bow. "I think it would be crude of us to refuse, sir. Perhaps they can tell us what we need to know."

Ok, nothing weird here at all. Nope. Everything is juuust fine. Blast Off finds himself glancing back to the portal back home and briefly wishing he could just turn around and go there... but no, they have a mission to accomplish. He frowns under his faceplate as all these weird eyes and that voice appear, but the Grand Ballroom piques his curiosity. Not that he's really sure he wants to see what a Grand Ballroom in a place like THIS looks like.

The scans, however, hold promise. Mirage seems to want to press on, too. "Yes. We'll proceed, for now, to this *Ballroom*. Just remain on alert. What we're looking for seems nearby... not close, but underneath us somewhere."

Moonlight isn't familiar with that particular language, though she files it away for future reference. When the walls come alive more fully, with the eyes and all, she smiles. After all, eyes can see, and smiles are almost universal...for those who have mouths for it. "Ballroom? I like the sound of that," she murmurs. After all, what warships have ballrooms? When the guy in charge agrees with going to the Ballroom, she's more than happy to follow, though she keeps her optics on the walls for any obvious changes. "I'm actually kind of glad I came along for this one," she says causally, conversationally.

One of the eyes, before it vanishes, blinks its little pupil as Mirage vanishes and reappears. It looks amused more than anything else.

The doors open up to a huge circular chamber that certainly fits the title of 'Grand Ballroom.' An arching ceiling is divided into panels that shift between displays of a violet sky, a city of towering green and blue structures, and a stylized depiction of an enormous fishlike, segmented creature against the backdrop of space; at the center feeler-fronds sway gently in the shape of a chandelier. There are circular tables of glass and what probably isn't, but looks like marble, arranged around the center. At the far end of the room one will see a raised stage with another ever-changing backdrop. IT'd all be lovely, except...

Except that it's all a mess. Tables and chairs are overturned, glasses shattered, though any liquids seem to be gone or dried up into sticky puddles. The shifting images flicker and all show streaks of greenish-black veins cracking through them, streaks that spatter the walls here and there and converge on an area that flashes red with what might be alien warnings. The musical instruments on the stage, glass tubes of some kind, have all been abandoned. And there's an odd smell throughout the place, the sick-sweet scent of slow rot.

But true to their word, the froggy voice reappears as the ceiling-fronds wave hello. "Ah, yes, I'm a little more together here. Sorry for the mess, my self-cleaning systems seem to be malfunctioning lately. How embarrassing. I am a Luxury Cruiser of the Orionic, Genesis Biotech Class 24000, dubbed the Pyrax. As you can tell, things are a little off right now, but that doesn't mean I can't provide programming! After all, as we say at Orionic Lines, the Cruise Must Go On!"

Despite its cheer, it sounds maybe a little anxious.

Mirage casts a disapproving glance at Blast Off as he moves past. Talking about them as if they can't hear! It certainly will not do at all to be so rud- The scout stops in his tracks when he comes to the doors of the 'grand ballroom,' unable to hold back a gasp at what he sees. Something has happened here, something that is less than pleasant. Desperate to hide his little faux pas, though, the scout steps in and forces a smile.

"It's nothing at all, nothing in the least," he assures the embarrassed ship. "While we appreciate the hospitality, we must be going rather soon. All we need is a little information, if you would?" he asks. His optics dart around the inside of the ballroom. Must be going, indeed. He does not want to stick around to see what caused this.

Blast Off glances over to Moonlight. "It is certainly... unusual," he cautiously agrees. "Just keep an optic on things." There's WEIRD stuff about, ya know. Yet despite his words, even Blast Off pauses to wonder once they enter the room. It's... a mix of horrific and wonderful. The shuttleformer's violet optics linger on the flickering displays, then scrunch a bit at the mess, then focus on that flashing red light display. He looks around as the voice speaks again, replying, "I believe I've heard of luxury cruises such as this. Pyrax, hmmm?"

The Combaticon pauses as Mirage requests information, hoping that it doesn't set off any alarms to the ship. He sends a message to Mirage and Moonlight, "<< Careful, we don't know it's reaction should we be looking to take something from here. I also want to see what those flashing red lights and symbols are, keep it distracted while I take a look.>>" The shuttleformer slowly makes his way closer to where the lights and symbols are, trying to get a better look at them while not being too obvious about it.

Despite the mess, Moonlight's first exclamation is, "Beautiful!" She's never been on one, but she'd heard of such ships. Listening carefully to the ship, her mind rolls over the information. "Do you not have a way to get in touch with a maintenance crew, Pyrax?" she asks respectfully. One should always respect the ship one is on, especially if the ship has its own intelligence, engineered or not. "A highly specialized ship such as yourself could hardly be left in the hands of just any old fixer," she says. << "Distractions? Got it!" >> she says back to Blast Off. << "Are you good with languages?" >> she asks the leader. Meanwhile, she walks around and looks at the mess left behind, looking to see how much of the 'upturned' things are broken, trying to determine if there was violence, or just panic. Not that she's a detective; it was just a thought.

"Going?" Pyrax sounds rather disappointed at Mirage's insistence. "But you just arrived! Surely I can interest you in some shuffleboard on Deck 3? Calisthenics on the star-dome observation deck? The continental breakfast buffet is sadly closed at the moment due to our refrigeration systems failing. On that note, I would highly suggest avoiding the kitchens." The walls, somehow, give a nervous little chuckle. "Ugh, this is so embarrassing. No offense, just your timing...but information! Information I can provide. One of my duties as Central Ship Intelligence and Communications Node and Maitre'D is answering passenger questions. How can I help you?"

At Moonlight's question, the fronds flicker. "All attempts to reach headquarters have failed. But that's probably just due to ultramagnetic interference from a nearby gas giant!" Which is probably garbage, and based on its tone of voice, Pyrax knows it. "Ordinarily I'd have maintenance units acting, but they're not working well right now. But we'll make the best of this, won't we?"

Moonlight will see evidence of sudden movement, scattered jewelry left here and there, but no blood or body fluids. No deep gashes, no damage that suggests any kind of violence. Everyone just left, it seems, very quickly. Hopefully this thing had escape pods.

As for Blast Off, he may be able to pick up on bits and pieces in the flashing red symbols. It switches language from time to time, flickering to one he may recognize. Though it's garbled, the words CRITICAL DAMAGE, STRUCTURAL INTEGRITY and INFECTION flash by. And those black veins are converging on a part where the walls of the ship begin to melt away into goo, where the scent of decay and rot is much, much stronger. They lead to a half-open door. Whatever is behind it is black, foul-smelling, and...oh, the radar is indicating the artifact is that way.

Mirage holds back a grimace at Blast Off's warnings. For once he is hoping that this will be easily solved with a civil conversation! It feels like it has been so long since something like that. The war and all it stood for had seen to that. He's doubly disappointed that he has to treat this seemingly well-meaning creature as a potential enemy. Can't things go well for them once?

For all his disappointment, though, the scout realizes Blast Off's suggestion is pragmatic. Oh the flip of a dime, he is forced to change his question. He would like to ask about the artifact, but if that's not possible... What is the harm in voicing the second question on all their minds? "If it is not too touchy a subject, may I inquire what happened here?" he asks.

Blast Off hmmms, "<< I know some from my travels in space, not quite enough to be an expert or anything, however. >>" Still, he knows enough to grab snatches of meaning. Infection, huh? He looks over at that door and cringes inwardly. Yeah, sounds (and smells) about right. Of COURSE that's where the artifact seems to be. Ugh. He's going to need one HECK of an oil bath after this, isn't he?

The Combaticon radios to the other two, "<< There are warnings over here of infection, critical damage, and something about structural integrity. This door seems to provide the best route towards where I'm getting a reading of the artifact. That is also where I am getting quite the olfactory whiff full of rot and decay.>>" He heads closer to the door, bracing himself. Indeed, he is perhaps far more cautious and suspicious than the others, but it's a big galaxy out there and there are some hostile creatures in it! He's seen them. Still, so far, so good.

"Well, we could probably send a notification when we get back, if that is what you want," Moonlight says to Pyrax, her tone one of deferral. After all, she doesn't want to upset/excite something while INSIDE it. Also, it's her natural response to anything that isn't immediately violent or dangerous. "So, tell me what all is functioning right now? I mean, as far as recreation goes. And don't feel too embarrassed; we all have our off-days," she says brightly, trying to keep the ship engaged so Blast Off and Mirage can do their things. She looks over Mirage as he asks a question that is far more on point. Okay, that's one way of doing it. Hearing Blast Off's report, she winces. "<< Then the question is whether or not the infection is affecting how the ship thinks, or if the ship knows of the infection and is antagonistic to it, >>" she says back to Blast Off. "<< What do you want us to do now? >>"

"What happened here? Yes. What. Happened here. One moment." The lights flicker and the floor seems to ripple, then Pyrax pipes up again. "Oh, that's right! Apologies, my cranial core is suffering from-wait, don't you worry, I can't dampen your vacation like that! As I said, we have the shuffleboard. The stage itself is functioning just fine, even if the band...left. Wait, right, that's what happened. Evacuation. There was a very orderly and safe evacuation in accordance with Orionic company safety policy. Which sounds alarming, but it's fine! My life support systems are just working a little hard on, uh, me and can't really do much for organics. Thankfully you're not organics, right? So you're fine. We're fine!"

After consideration, the fronds wilt and the colors seem to dim. "Sorry, I know it's not convincing. I'm not programmed to feel alarm or self-preservation instincts beyond what's required to protect my passengers, and my tertiary brain core, like I said...well, actually, maybe some of you can help me there. It...hurts. I'm not scared, of course. Just disappointed! Want to do my job, can't if I'm dying. Right?"

Blast Off will thankfully be able to see down the spiraling staircase beyond the doorway, though he'll have to be very careful to head down with the slippery slime everywhere. The biolights flash faintly here, emergency lights only, the walls oozing and in some cases just dead.

Mirage sees Blast Off moving out of the corner of his optic, for once more than happy to leave the snooping to other people. This creature's story is certainly... sad, interesting? He is not sure what to call it. Either way, he's enjoying the fact that this isn't ending with drawn weapons. With a twitch of his helm, he motions that Blast Off is more than welcome to continue. ::I believe I can keep him preoccupied if you wish to explore further,:: the scout sends over comm.

He, once more, forces a smile for this alien ship. His optics dance up to the shifting images on the ceiling. "You said your only desire is to entertain?" he asks, bowing his helm a little. "That is a request I am more than willing to indulge if you'll have me." The 'last' is implied after request, but too morbid to say. He's not sure he can do much else, knowing little of organic medicine.

Blast Off glances over where Mirage and Moonlight speak with Pyrax, pondering for the first time if things really *are* as simple as they seem. But... just... life so rarely works out that way. He responds to Mirage's and Moonlight's comms, "<< Very well. Perhaps this is really as it seems, we can restore this creature's functioning, get the artifact and be on our way. You both keep it occupied, find out where the brain core is and what it needs, I'm heading in. >>" Wish him luck. He makes his way in the doorway while trying to stay as clean as possible. THIS IS GONNA BE GROSS.

Moonlight pats the wall where it's NOT necrotic and icky. "We'll see what we can do. Though none of us are medics or repair crew, which I imagine you'd need a little of both for the kind of being you are," she says to the ship. "Do you have any records from before you were hurt? Something we could access maybe, to help you out?" On the bright side, Blast Off can clean off later if things turn out well. "<< Good luck. Let us know if anything changes or if you need us to do anything else. >>" Idly she starts picking up chairs, setting them upright; doing small things to just organize things. But she keeps an eye on the walls between doing the tidying.

"Yes! Yes, I'd love to entertain." The colors seem to get a little brighter at Mirage's request. Pyrax is so happy! "What would you like? We pride ourselves on superior customer service, and I for one won't let myself be outdone by the other fleet ships just because I can't find them! Or they won't listen to me. Or...or something."

It doesn't really want to concentrate on that, clearly. "Records? Let me see. I have-oh, it's a corrupted file, but see if you can make any sense of this." The voice fades out, and a damaged video file projects onto one of the wall panels. There's an image of a luxury cruiser interior clearly similar to the one they're in, though things are a bit more...chaotic there, dark silhouettes opening fire on screaming employees and guests. One of them, clearly a Cybertronian, looms over the crowd. He looks like Fortress Maximus, but the coloring is all wrong, and he's flocked by other oddly-painted Cybertronians. The screen flickers again, and this time a voice comes over, similar to Pyrax's but not quite the same. It fades in and out.

This is the Orionic Luxury Cruiser M---. We are under attack by an unknown ---. Rerouting all ships. Rerouting all ships! Keep in touch with HQ until----

It breaks into static.

"Is that something that should alarm me? Myris sounded a little frazzled." It thinks for a second. "Oh, right, and here we go. Something in my records indicates that someone came on board who wasn't supposed to be, and was arrested by security for snooping where they weren't supposed to be. Someone who...looked like you, actually." A big eye forms in the wall and squints. Then it vanishes. "Thankfully I don't stereotype!"

Blast Off will find himself descending into a chamber full of pulsing, giant nerve bundles, some of them clear and shimmering as electricity crackles through them, others wilting and obviously damaged. The one in the center, the biggest cluster, is sparking and active and yet seems to be the source of the blackish spreading infection. And something's been jammed into the root of it.

Mirage is quite set on keeping this creature distracted! Moonlight's question, though, may end up derailing that plan. The scout's optics widen a little when he sees the images of their alternates. That explains a few things. And if any of them are still here, well... "Pyrax, there sounds like there are so many wonderful options I simply can't decide," the scout says. Fake flattery he can do! "Can you show me a map of the ships interior so that I can see where everything is? That may help. And... a map of any life signs on the ship so I can see where all the guests are congregating? I only want the most popular entertainment."

Blast Off is really not liking this, #NOPE. The shuttleformer gingerly steps down the stairway, trying to avoid the worst concentrations as he finally sees the cluster. Hmm. Taking note of the ...whatever that is... jammed into it, he approaches for a better look cautiously. He radios up, "<< Have you learned anything yet? There's something jammed into some sort of... nerve cluster down here. I'm going to see if I can remove it. How are you doing up there? >>" He looks around, trying to see if he can either find something to remove the object... or maybe just grab it himself and pull.

Moonlight watches the clip. "Ah. What kind of security did you have? Automated or separately contracted?" she asks, trying to figure out what happened. Then Mirage brings up the map. So, he's going in that direction. Okay. She goes up beside Mirage; she wants to see the map too to see if she can suss out where all the damaged/dead areas are. "<< Can you hold on for one moment? If the ship lets us see the map we might have better information to give you. But, it's your call; you're in charge, right? >>"

"A map! Yes, I can do a map. Much better than all that potentially depressing business there, right?" The segmented wall projects an image of a detailed map, marked room by room. Based on its shape and design, it seems Pyrax looks a lot like that big fish shown on one of the murals, with rooms and chambers alongside organic parts and organs. There's also a chamber dedicated to producing and recycling atmosphere and something called an 'atmospheric forcefield generator.' There are little red warnings all over the place, the strongest right below the Grand Ballroom, where the Tertiary Brain Core is.

Right where Blast Off is right now.

There's also a little blip on an upper room, accessible through a short hallway and an elevator. "Ah, seems there's still someone there. Odd. Well, that's nice, right? You can make a cruise friend! Plan return trips, go glamping together sometime..."

Blast Off will find there's nothing nearby to jam it out with, though at least it's a small object. A box, in fact, with something tied to it. A very familiar box. And he's going to have to remove it very carefully.

"My security was contracted. They're...I think they had to evacuate too. They were organic..."

Mirage stiffens at the sight of what he most feared. If this is indeed one of their alternates, they have to get out of here fast. ::Blast Off, have you secured the artifact yet? I've confirmed there is another life form on this ship, one that is not us. I think it may be one of our alternates,:: he warns. ::I'll explain more later, but we need to retreat as soon as possible to secure reinforcements.::

The scout hesitates at Pyrax's words, now struggling for something to say in response. His instincts are telling him to run, run, run, but... He grimaces. "Yes, glamping," he echoes. "Very exciting indeed, but I'm so sad to leave your company to seek them out. You've been such an excellent host." There's a hint of a whine in his voice. They're honest enough words; he does feel guilty they may have to leave him with that thing, especially if it is what he thinks it may be.

Blast Off radios back, "<< No, keep going, get the information. >>" Then he comes back to... cripes, it's a box. But not THE box. Thank Primus. The Combaticon brushes off a case of nerves and starts trying to remove this case, for it's an artifact case isn't it, with great care and as much patience as he can muster in this rather vile environment. "<< Mirage, I am trying to extract it right now. It.... what? Alternates? Here? >>" Oh GREAT. Blast Off glances about for unwelcome company, but still seeing none, he returns to his task. "<< Stay alert then, I shall try to get this as quickly as possible. >>"

"<< Okay, be very careful. The ship is largely organic, and their organs are easier to permanently. If you hurt it, there might be backlash, >>" Moonlight reports to Blast Off after looking at the map. "Do you want me to come with you?" she asks Mirage. "Obviously whoever is left is /not/ organic." Which means her brand of diplomacy might not be the best. Still, if it's one of the 'others' having backup might be a good idea. "Or would you rather I stay here?" Then Blast Off reports in. "<< Do you want me to try to retrieve the object while you back him up? I'm not really a warrior. >>"

"Really?! Even with all the troubles I've been having?!" An eye forms in the wall and produces one huge tear, and the fronds and panels turn brilliant colors. Pyrax is so touched! "I'm just so happy, thank you. It's just usually so thankless, you know? And I can't even remember everything, or tell how I'm supposed to react, but I was just so ashamed of how much of a mess things are since my self-repair and self-cleaning systems are on the fritz. And-and--"

Blast Off is able to remove the box with a bit of nudging. It won't open for him, not quite yet, but Moonlight will suddenly feel as if something is calling her, something nearby. She'll know it in her spark, even from this distance, that it's hers.

And Pyrax goes silent, then a low hum plays as it monotones, "obstruction gone. Initiating self-repair." The effect downstairs is almost immediate, as nerve bundles start to regenerate to join each other, colors flickering in the blackened, damaged parts. Tiny nanite-like things released from glands and pockets on the walls start to repair the damage, and while it will clearly take a while, already patches begin to clear and show signs of the shimmering, iridescent, pretty thing Pyrax is supposed to be.

"...Oh. Oh, that...feels nice," Pyrax says, sounding woozy. And on the map, the little dot has started to move down, down, down towards the ballroom.

Something has changed. Mirage is not sure what, but the sight of the nanites briefly distracts him. He knows it's not something he did. Maybe Blast Off? By the time his optics skate back to the map and the blip of the strange life signal it has already started to move down the hallway. The scout flinches back. They've done all they can here! Once they have reinforcements, perhaps they can do more. ::That life signal is coming towards us. We have to go now,:: the scout repeats with more urgency than before. An artifact is no good if they're all dead.

"Yes, yes. It's truly been a pleasure," Mirage says in a rush. "I think I will go explore those entertainment venues now, though." The scout is already edging towards the ballroom's door.

Well, he got the artifact, at least. Blast Off grunts as he pulls back with it, then wastes no time making his way back up. "<< Not necessary, Moonlight, I am on my way right now. I have the artifact. >>" The Combaticon moves quickly to try and rejoin the others and make an exit.

Moonlight is struck suddenly by that sense of calling. It's not a sensation she's had before, and if it had just been a ghost of an impression, she would have dismissed it. But it remains as a pulling...a sense of belonging. "I'm glad you feel better," she says to the ship, but her voice is a little more absent now. "We're glad to be of service." With the urgency of the other Lost Lighters, she realizes that this has the potential to get SERIOUS. Blast Off is bringing the artifact, and she hopes that will soothe this odd sensation. "We'll contact your company, get them to send help to make sure everything is okay," she assures Pyrax as she waits for Blast Off to join them.

Pyrax is rapidly self-repairing before their eyes, the colors growing more vivid, the black veins starting to disappear and clear up. Apparently its blocked systems, once freed, work fast. And that red dot is approaching, and approaching, and...

WHAM. There's the sound of doors shuttering elsewhere, and alarms going off. "Ahh! There go the self-activating emergency systems. I remember what he did now," Pyrax trills, froggishly. Somehow. "I'll just keep him contained and drop him off at the nearest police station or something like that. But I-I see you're in a hurry. I understand. Thank you for everything, friends! Guests! Come back and see me soon! I can thank you. I can provide vouchers for your next trip!"

The space bridge is waiting for them. As Moonlight gets near the artifact box, it opens up, revealing a glittering whip that glows gold with a carved crystal handle. It's all hers.

Mirage glances back to make sure the others are following, flinching at the sound of breaking doors. He hates having to make such a rude exit, but three of them against one of their alternates, if that is indeed who it is, will likely not end well! Especially considering Blast Off is still injured, he would rather fall back and regroup. "Not much farther! They've already opened the bridge!" he calls back, not bothering to stick to comms anymore. The scout slips through the bridge and back to safety.

Blast Off comes to meet the others. He already has his artifact, so he keeps optics open for the rightful owner... which is revealed to be Moonlight. Ah. The shuttleformer hands her the box as it opens. "This seems to belong to you?" He lifts an optic ridge at the whip, then gives her a nod and lets her claim what is hers. After that, he makes his way to the portal, looking back over his shoulder as he goes. "Thank you, Pyrax. This looks like it could be a fine cruise. I might take you up on your offer someday!" With that, he heads home.

With a bit of an awkward smile, the femme takes the box from Blast Off. What a Prize? Neither word seems to suit Moonlight well. As wonderful as the whip looks, she can ogle over it later. Now is a time to make a quick exit. But she will be as good as her word and try to contact the fleet headquarters.

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