Endport Saga Epilogue: Part 1
The Maximals have been vindicated now all the questions will be answered. Now the Maximals do what they do best.. Party!
PART ONE
The predacon Flagship Kismet circled Endport high above the Giana's surface. A message bot sprinted down the gray hallways at full speed data pad in hand. He stopped quickly in front of a large door marked Captain Mandate. The small bot gently knocked ont he door and in a moment was answered by a large Praying Mantis.
"This better be good." Mandate said clamly. The small bot handed him the data pad and sprinted off down the hallway just as fast as he had come. The Mantis glanced at the pad for a moment and then crushed it in palm. //Attention Crew prepare to dock with all surface and vessals and return to Cybertron Immediatyly.//
It was dawn on Endport whent the People began to come out of their slums and homes to see what was going on. Predacons could be seen leaving the city in droves, taking down all the equipment they had built up and all the veichles they brought in. Some buildings were left abandond as surface ships blasted off into higher orbit. A group of four young bots, two maximal and two predacon, ran through the streets showing a color guard of the Maximal flag, a Predacon flag, a Endport flag and a flag of freedom. The four ran through the streets shouting Freedom as the Kismet Broke for higher orbit and Cybertron. Now Endport was truthly free and Cybertron safe.
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Rhapsody stood in front of the resistance in the military barraks they had bunked in the night before and for the last time she addressed them. "We have been through thick and thin togther, we have been through battles and parties, space journeys and joureys within ourselfs. We have stood behind one another and saved each other countless times. From all background wether you just joined or have been here the whole time you have helped, even if just a little bit. And even though we have one we have lost, lost many friends and warriors like Chapel, Scope, Tailpipe, Raid, Aftershock, Fang, Spyder, Corvus, Slam, Bear a Suar, Nocturna, Carnage, Dreadnought and many many more, too many that i would wish to count killed for freedom or lost in the sands of time. Now i hope you all will take a moment of silence for those lost in the struggle." RHapsody said bowing her head.
THe room fell silent as the resistance remebered their friends of old. A tear ran down Solarflares cheek for Nocturna and also for Corcus, slam, spyder and Bear a Suar. The rest of the maximals losed their eyes and thought of comrades lost, even a tear seemed to escape from Weede's optic as the silence grew sorrow by the second. Rhapsody finally lifted her head again and regained herself.
"Endport is free becuase of all of your effort, now some Military untis would have to file reports and have other work to carry to do at this moment but that just wouldn't be our style now would it?" RHapsody grabbed a bottle of Champign and sprayed into the group. "Party On Maximals!"
"WOOOOOO!!!!" Buckshot yelled.
The rotweiler raised the can of beer in his hand, shook it up, bit into it with his teeth, and sprayed the beer all over Mimi and Querion as they laughed and covered themselves. Buckshot drank deeply from the can and spiked it on the floor.
"Man, we are gonna get drunk, get laid, and party party f'n PARTY til the sun comes up!" he yelled.
Mimi jumped into his arms and kissed him deeply, and he twirled her around in the air before setting her down. He turned to Querion, raising his palm, and the two high-fived.
"We're free Bots." Querion smiled.
"Damn straight!" Buckshot replied.
"Groovy." Mimi nodded.
"Alright, where's Solar and Wraith? I wanna organize a big-ass drinking contest and see what crazy crap I can get 'em to do while plastered." Buckshot said, looking around.
"Didn't you say you were inviting someone to the party?" Mimi asked.
Buckshot glanced at his watch.
"Oh s**t! She'll be coming!"
A knock came on the door to the barracks and Buckshot whirled around, making for the door. He opened it to let in a diminutive middle-aged Maximal female, smiling at her. She had a canine collie Beast Mode. Buckshot positively dwarfed her, as she was eye level to his abdomen.
"There's my special guy!" the woman said, holding out her arms. "Give me a big Bucky hug."
Grinning, Buckshot took her into his arms and hugged her tightly, lifting her off her feet. He set her back down as Querion and Mimi wandered over.
"Who's she?" Mimi asked suspiciously.
"This is my mom, Calico!" Buckshot replied. "She's the greatest lady in the world, and-"
"-And my son was on TV!" Calico finished, pinching his cheek. "He was in a trial, but he was on TV all the same! All the girls in my bridge club think you're the biggest celebrity now."
"Cool." Buckshot replied.
"But, I was wondering, sweetie, what was that that mean Predacon lawyer said...? 'Prison escapee'?"
"Uh, er, no!" Buckshot stammered. "He said, um, 'pristine escapades'!"
"Ohh, that was it." Calico nodded. "So who are your friends?"
"This is my bud Querion and my girlfriend Mimi." Buckshot said, gesturing towards them.
Calico smiled maternally at them, and Querion nodded at her politely before mouthing at Buckshot, You invited your mom?
Back off man, my mom's the coolest. Buckshot mouthed back.
"Wonderful to meet you." Calico said. "I'm so glad Bucky found someone again- that last girl was a little too wild. All the running off, hiding in closets, bringing other women over, she just had no shame."
"Awww, mom..." Buckshot said, snickering.
"And your friend is just the cutest!" Calico then exclaimed, smiling at Querion. "Far be it from me to inject myself into my son's business, but I've been single for quite a while and I'd love someone to talk to."
"Ahh, umm... Mrs Buckshot, it's an umm... honour to meet you."
"Aw shucks, you can just call me Calico," the colie smiled, and snuggled up close to Querion, causing him to spill his drink over the floorboards. An exasperated wolf-bot snapped his fingers wildly at Buckshot, the latter's mother oblivious to her new "beau's" antics. After a prolonged kiss with Mimi, Buckshot finally looked up, albeit a little groggily.
Get me outta this! mouthed Querion, although he would rather scream.
What's he saying? Giddyup mouth hiss? No, eggy alpha piss. No, Emmy outtie tryst.
Thoroughly confused by now, Buckshot looked oddly at Querion, then snapped his fingers. Get him outta this!
"'Scuse me, mom, I think somebody went and spiked the punch." he said, intervening. "Go hang out with Mimi for a sec, me and Quer gotta talk."
He pulled the wolf over to a corner.
"What's up, man?"
"Your mother is all over me!"
"Yeah, and? She likes you!"
"Well, it's- you know- it's just wrong!"
"...You saying my mom is ugly?"
"No, it's just weird, is all!"
"Aww, man, don't be like that! It's not like she wants to marry you- wouldn't want ya for a step-dad anyway. Just be nice to the lady and show her a good time, platonic-style! You can do that, right?"
Wraith entered the scene late, as he said he had some important business to attend to. Nobody, however, expected him to enter through the floor. He came up right in front of Buckshot's mother, Calico, scaring her half to death. "Wazzap Maximals!?" He screamed at the top of his voicebox, making Calico jump again from the volume.
He received many 'Wazzaps?' in return. Wraith was quick to join the party but he couldn't see Rhapsody anywhere, but he knew she was there somewhere. She wouldn't sit out on this party, not after such a long struggle with everybody. He'd find her sooner or later, he really wanted to talk to her. But in the meantime, he was going to get the very most out of this party!
Much to her relief, after the trial Dusty had finally managed to get the Whiplash out of the Xavior, and it was now parked outside the barracks nearby. Dusty herself was in the barracks with everyone else, enjoying the party atmosphere.
"Mm, party time. And where there's a party, there's munchies... usually..." the dingo femme muttered to herself, looking around. "Now, to find them..." She started prowling around the barracks, looking for something tasty to nibble.
"It's just, well, I'm not good around umm... women," retorted Querion.
"You'll learn. Now go and show my ma a good time. Don't make me make you," Buckshot added.
"I-I-I-..." stammered the wolf-bot, before he was shoved over beside Calico. The nervous Maximal stared at the swirling drink, and took a big gulp, draining the tankard. He smiled tensely at Buckshot's mom, and asked, "You want a drink?"
"Oh sure. Thank you. My, you are such a sweet boy," she smiled back, patting his cheek affectionately. Querion scampered off in such of a cup and some drink. He was totally out of his league. He did not want to offend Calico or her son, but he had simply no idea what to do. Querion filled the cup with fruit punch, and scuttled back, placing the cup gently in the collie's hands. He shrugged fretfully as she mouthed a "thank-you", and buried his face into his mug of ale. The usually spicy drink now tasted sour, sour with uneasiness.
"Come on! Let's dance!" exclaimed Calico, as she tugged the wolf-bot by a hand onto the dance floor.
Dance? Dance?! With his two left feet? Querion felt walls closing in on him. Suddenly the siege on Endport seemed so much less intimidating than the current situation.
Though the feeling of being a newbie still was with him, Cross was feeling a bit more at ease now. He stood by the snacks, holding a cup of punch in his hand. Specifically he stood right next to the punch bowl and was now on his 10th cup. He was always nervous at parties.
Cross looked around the room and couldn't help but smile at everything going on. At least I don't look like I'm not enjoying myself. He thought as he sipped at his punch.
Tundra was dancing with Ret on the floor, purposfully ignoring the slight glare that Vinoc was giving them at their almost full body contact dance. She then noticed Queiron and Buckshots mother heading onto the floor. "Looky, looky, Queiron's getting on the dancefloor, and he don't look to happy about it."
One of the most heavily guarded ships in the Predacon fleet sat in Cybertron Spaceport. It was a bit less heavily guarded at the moment, however. Its VIP passengers, Ramhorn and Sea Clamp, were off attending to a few pieces of business on Cybertron, most of the crew was on shore leave, and the ship itself was refueling. So, instead of being inpregnable, it was merely heavily guarded.
A rear service port was open. Apparently the ship's engineer had ordered a few spare parts or upgrades, which were a bit late in arriving. Two guards stood by the open entrance, watching the clock. Once the shipment arrived, they could go off and get drunk. These were members of the Elite guard, mind you, not inept recruits, but even Elite guard members get bored sometimes.
POP BANG
"What the?"
"Weapons."
BANG BANG FIZZLE WHIIIR
"Are we under attack?"
POP POP POPOPOPOPOPOP
"Nah, it's just cheap fireworks. A bunch of dumb kids, probably."
BANG POP BANG BANG "PREDACONS SUCK! HAHAHAHAaa!"
FIZZLLllleee...
The little fireworks show subsided, and the two guards heard footsteps running off into the distance.
"Punks! We oughta show them who they're messing with!"
"Nah, they're harmless. We don't want to abandon our post, anyway."
But they already had, just a bit, by taking foreward positions against the expected attackers. Thus, a small figure was able to wiggle out from under the ship, and into the service port. He walked in a few feet, then ducked into the first open door, a small supply and break room for the guards. Not the safest place to be, but it did have an entrance to a ventilation shaft. In a ship like this, the main branches of the ventilation system would have a strong security system, but outer branches like this one could still be used as hiding places, or moving short distances.
A few cycles later, the engineers arrived, with their equipment.
"What took you so long?" asked the first guard, "And what's that smell?"
"Somebody boobytrapped the spaceport entrance with a stinkbomb," a junior engineer replied bitterly.
"Damn Maximal kids, they threw a bunch of fireworks at us, too," said the second guard.
"We oughta put a little fear of authority back in them," the first guard said, pumping his rifle.
"All in good time," said the chief engineer, "All in good time. Now would you please help us load this equipment, and then close up the port?"
"Sure thing.. Aww, man, they got the equipment too? That'll stink up the ship for weeks!"
"No one is more aware of that than I," said the chief engineer.
Penji looked out a grate into the hallway, suppressing a laugh as the Preds walked by. He'd have to keep close tabs on that chief, it seemed like he knew something. However, he'd be keeping a low profile on this ship. It wasn't his target- merely his chauffer, taking him to his next meal. Cicadon.
Wraith still couldn't see Rhapsody anywhere, but he did notice Cross over by the snack table looking extremely uneasy. He jogged over to Cross and tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey dude, what's happenin'? Name's Wraith, official bonafide, butt-kicker for this crew." He said with a grin.
"Hah, munchies!" Dusty zeroed in on the table with the snacks and the punch bowl, weaving between the people in the way until she came up beside Wraith and Cross. She noted the amount of punch Cross had drunk already and grinned.
"Better ease up on that stuff 'fore y'bust," the white and copper femme commented casually, before snagging a cup of punch for herself and leaning against the table.
A shadowy figure sliped through the doorway, trying to be unobtrusive and managed to stay unnoticed. He pauses a moment, looking at the carousing bots. It was hot out, and even hotter inside with all of excited bodies.
With a resigned sigh, Relic unbuttoned his cloak, and hung it on a peg, revealing his entire face and scarred upper torso. He wasn’t a good-looking bot, beautiful would never be a word that could describe him and handsome was a long stretch, but it would be quite fair to describe him as “striking.”
Content for the moment to just watch, he gazes out at the partying bots, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips.
"Hey," Cross said hearing Wraith, "Just hanging back, drinking punch. I'm Cross, a medic. Though I'm here to enjoy myself though. What about you?"
That when he saw Dusty come over to the table and smiled at her comment. "I don't know why, but parties make me nervous. Oh well."
Phyphen made her way through the crowd over to the refreshments. Filling a cup of whatever the pink stuff was, she shuffled over to a nearby corner, pushing past all the bodies and slowly sipped her drink.
Wrinkling her nose in disgust, as she stared into the cup, as if it was posion.
"Yuck" she muttered to herself as she placed the cup down against the wall. Looking around the room, she thoguht she noticed Dusty and Cross. Smiling she began to make her way along the wall, staring at her feet, and through the dark, hot room filled with bodies.
Walking semi-blindly she stumbled with one hand on the wall, looking up a moment too late, the young Maximal sees nothing but a black brestplate and the clank of metal colliding. Knocking into the other bot, she let out a starled cry, and tumbled to the floor.
Shaking her head, Phyphen looked up to see a dark panther bot.
"Now you didn't start having fun without me did you?" Rhapsody said coming from behind Wraith and tapping him on the shoulder. The songbird grabbed a handfull of snackes and munched on them lightly.
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Solarflare sat in one of the corners, he was remebering days gone by and Nocturna, and switchblade, he thought so much of only two people he felt weak for it. The finch cringed as he sat in the corner drinking a beer until he froze. "Damn i am becoming Relic." he said standing up and headng off to find Wraith or Buckshot.
[Cybertron]
The star port that Switchblade entered was a small one, almost grimy and showing visible signs of neglect. As ship docks went, it was a veritable slum. Yet the ships were all good repair, and, unlike those captains who patronized more antiseptic locations, freight haulers asked few if any questions. It would serve her purposes well enough.
As she slinked her way through the sparse greasy crowd, she though of many things. Endport, the Resistance, Solarflare…her grim ‘guardian in the shadows’. Him she thought on most of all. She’d managed a bleary glimpse of him outside the hotel, but nothing more. She still didn’t know his name, or anything beyond the fact that he was back from where he’d been while she’d been fighting in Endport. Just where had he disappeared to? The lack of that knowledge bothered her. But then, so were a lot of things lately.
The courier called her latest orders to mind. “Pick up - Room 552 Cybertron Securities Building, Old Business Quadrant, Cybertron. Deliver by unspecified means - office of one Prof. Avieron (Maximal), at Merton Labs, Zenith City, Caldor (Tarsis Sector)” A simple job. Much lower security than she was used to, and far away at that. Which was a good thing. The long Transwarp jump would give her time to think things over, sort out her life. Solarflare…her angel…her profession. The badger ‘bot knew she needed time to figure out what she wanted. So time she would take. As much as was needed.
Unconsciously checking the canister at her back, Switchblade changed course and headed for a particularly unsanitary looking bar. She took a seat at one curved end, back against the wall, not even glancing at the few other ‘bots strewn along its length. In her experience it was safer that way. The bartender, a slumped Transformer as grimy as the bar he worked shambled up, and Switchblade ordered a small energon drink to be polite. She paid her credit and let the drink sit. In her experience, that too was the safe way to go. With nothing but time to kill, she sat back and let her gaze drift across the ‘bots streaming past the bar. The bar keep didn’t bother either her or her drink. After all, she was a paying customer, just like the rest.
Minutes passed, and the straggling flow of freight ‘bots continued unabated. At the far end of the bar, one of the bar patrons, a thick gray Transformer tossed a credit at the bartender and melted into the crowd. Switchblade looked down to check her chronometer. It was almost time for her to go. The Pyromancer, her ride of the moment, would be lifting in less than an hour. The Pyro was a good ship, whatever its outward appearance. Switchblade had been its passenger on numerous past occasions. Her captain, a swarthy Maximal known simply as ‘Rat’ always cut her a good deal. So good in fact that the courier was beginning to think…
She blinked and looked up from the digital timer. Something on the edge of her vision had struck her as out of place. Mental alarms began to go off as she quickly scanned the crowd. The badger nearly struck the bar tender when he shuffled over and laying a gentle hand on her elbow. “Miss,” he managed. “Message fr’you,” Switchblade shot him a questioning look before taking what he proffered: a small folded slip of paper.
“Who gave this to you?” she demanded harshly.
“Dunno,” the barkeep said, turning back to the center of the bar, where a young shifty eyed Predacon was cautiously eyeing the cashbox. “Big guy at th’other en’ of the bar. S’gone now,” The courier’s optics flashed to the opposite end of the bar finding only an empty seat, as promised.
“Thanks,” she said, tossing over another credit to send the stooped ‘bot away. Warily she stared at the folded paper for almost a minute before opening it. Adjusting her eyes to the small crowded script, she began to read.
When you need me, I will be there. I watch from the shadows always.
Switchblade’s head snapped up, but it was too late. The bar patron, her angel, the thing on the edge of her vision that had given her pause was gone. In his place came only the endless stream of ‘bots.
She smiled as she stood from her seat, tucking the paper away in a safe place. Somehow, she knew that she would find the answers that she sought. And one way or another, she would find her angel too. The badger femme stepped off toward the Pyromancer at a fast clip. Her future awaited her, and she could no longer sit and wait. Sure there might be some danger involved, but Switchblade didn’t care. She knew she had someone to watch her back.
[The Charr Space Station - Undisclosed Orbiting Seat of the Tripredacus Council]
“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?!? HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME!! I SHOULD HAVE YOU ALL KILLED. KILLED, DO YOU HEAR ME?? KILLED!!”
Ramhorn and Seaclamp looked on impassively as Cicadon raged from behind his side of the tri-cornered table. The infuriated Predacon’s red optics burned with a hate so deep and so complete that it was almost palpable. His mouth, twisted into a cruel angered shape, promised violence in a way that only the truly powerful can.
“Calm yourself,” Ramhorn chided. His light tone was mocking. “We’ve done nothing that didn’t need to be done. You went too far with Endport; too far with the Resistance. Our public acceptance of blame was necessary to restore balance. It was necessary to save face,”
“Save face! At my expense?!” Cicadon roared, reining in only the slightest bit. “You had no right!”
“We acquired the right the moment you went behind our backs,” Ramhorn countered. “You of all Predacons should have known that in this organization, there are only two ways to do things…the triumvirate’s way, and the wrong way. You chose, quite spectacularly I might add, the wrong way. Now you must pay for that folly. The Tripredacus Council is larger than you and your petty scheming, and your petty dreams of conquest. You have forgotten that somehow,”
“You should never have acted so far above your station, Cicadon,” Seaclamp droned, cold as the grave. “I fear that this will end badly for you,”
Cicadon snorted. “A threat?” he sneered. “Now it is you who have overstepped your bounds. You have done nothing but harm us with this ‘stunt’ of yours. Just wait and see. You have done with a few words, more damage than I could ever do with the whole of our military strength. I see now that I have allowed myself to become associated with weaklings and fools. It is long past time that I corrected that,” The Tripred pivoted sharply and stormed out through the heavy chamber doors. A long line of guards fell in beside him as they made their way to Cicadon’s ship. The Tripred’s mind worked furiously, plotting his revenge every step of the way. In two days time, they both of them would be corpses at his feet. Let them talk of their face then. he thought. And how much saving it bought them!
Back in the chamber the massive doors swung to a close, leaving Ramhorn and Seaclamp alone. The two eyed each other in silence.
“He had his chance,” Ramhorn said, attempting to fill the silent void. Seaclamp only nodded.
Ramhorn pressed a small button, and the far wall slid away to reveal a large bank of video monitors, hooked into the station’s security system. Most were simply shots of empty hallways. But others… The two Tripreds looked on as Cicadon and his guard boarded his flagship, Malice, and sealed the hatches. As they watched, the large ship disengaged from Charr, and drifted slowly, silently, away from the station. The main drives sprung to life, once the ship had moved far enough, propelling it outward with ever greater speed.
The external camera zoomed in.
A Transwarp gateway opened at the ship’s behest, swirling and pulsing with a faint blue light. The Malice gunned its engines, accelerating in a smooth line toward the mouth of the opening. For a moment the craft seemed to hang suspended in space. It made the gate.
And then exploded.
The smoky orange red bubble flashed out violently for the briefest of moments, and then was gone. What little remained of the ship followed its original course, drawn into the endless reaches of Transwarp space. The gateway collapsed, and then, the show was over. No evidence. No survivors. No loose ends. All very neat.
Ramhorn pressed the button, sliding the monitor wall back into place. Swiveling effortlessly in his chair, he looked at his remaining cohort with something bordering on approval. “Almost as easy as turning the fool’s million credit lawyers,” he said unsympathetically. “And not nearly so expensive,” The Tripred permitted himself a short, dark laugh. “Shall we move on?” he asked.
Seaclamp nodded, and move on they did.
Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Left. Right. Left...
"OUCH!"
"Arrgh! Sorry about that," uttered Querion, looking as pained as Calico was. The femme was clutching her left foot with boths hands, hopping about the same spot. A string of indecipherable curses filled the wolf-bot's ears. Now he knew where all of Buckshot's phrases came from. This was the twelfth time he had tread on Calico's foot, and counting.
Dancing was definitely a bad idea.
"I think you should take rest," suggested Querion, leading Buckshot's mother to a seat beside Mimi. "Order Calico a drink please," the wolf-bot requested of Mimi, and added, albeit wordlessly, keep her occupied please, I owe you one.
"Umm, Calico, I've got some unfinished business to deal with, mind if I go off for a while? Mimi here will keep you company. I bet you're terribly excited over knowing about your son's new girlfriend. And I'm sorry about your foot," smiled Querion sheepishly, and jostled through the throng of party-goers. He just hoped that Calico or Buckshot wouldn't take his reluctance as a personal affront. How could he tell them that he was not much of a social bot?
"Drink, drink, drink, drink..." mumbled the wolf-bot, his already parched throat drying up with every word he mumbled. He reached the refreshments bar, and picked himself a tankard. Ale. Ale. Ale. Ale...
"Oof!" Came a cry before him, and he heard a body tumble to the ground. It sounded like... Phyphen? Querion looked down, and shook his head.
"What trouble have you gotten into now?" he asked, his usually stern edge softened by a hint of concern in his voce. He helped her to his feet, and the young femme quickly hid behind him, trembling slightly as she pointed to the imposing figure in front of her.
"Relic?"
[i]Whew[/i]
Penji was glad he'd followed that engineer around. Otherwise he might have never gotten wind of the subspace explosive being smuggled on to the [i]Malice[/i]. Now that Cicadon was taken care of, he just had one tiny little problem- being the only Maximal in the most heavily Predacon station in the galaxy.
Except for that one that just passed right in front of him. Penji was confused by that. And also as to why he was headed towards that top-secret room with the weird energy signature altering equipment. Well, might as well go ask.
"Hi!"
"Huh? Who are-" WHACK!
---
Slyberus was getting impatient waiting for his next appointment. The Predacon doctor hated how every hotshot undercover agent thought it was his right to just show up whenever he wanted. Finally, his patient came through the door.
"Ahh, Slipknot, long time, no doubt..."
"Heh, sorry," the Maximal replied.
"Pardon me, but you, ahh look and sound a bit different, yes?"
"Oh, that. Got discovered, had to pull a shell switch. It's all in my report. Can we get this over with? I'm gettin' sick of smelling like a Maxi."
"Ahh, heh, no problem, you'll be back to your old self in no time. Right this way, please."
A few cycles later..
"Yes, ahh, you are now registering as a bona fide Predacon."
"Cool, thanks Doc."
"Hm, if you don't mind my ahh, asking, that's an interesting choice of beast mode you have, yes?"
"Well I didn't have much of a choice, you know? It was take what you could get time. But actually I don't mind it so much. I mean, who's gonna suspect a penguin?"
"heheh, ahh, very good then."
"We done here? I gotta get to my dinner while it's still fresh, y'know?"
"Ahh, well, very well, but I'd like you back here for a few more tests, at your earliest convienience."
"Sure thing, Doc. Thanks again."
Penji walked out of the lab with a smile on his face. Now to finish the perfect crime, he had only one more thing to do. Fortunately, it was his favorite part, too. Eating the evidence.
Wraith turned to face Rhapsody and smiled. "Hey! There you are! I've been looking all over for you, we really need to talk."
The songbird cocked her head to one side. "Really? What about?"
Before Wraith could answer, he heard a voice shout his name over the loud music. "Wraith! Over here!" The wolf turned to the voice. "Solarflare! Wazzaap dude!" He replied, glad to see his friend, but visibly irritated at being interrupted.
Peeking from behind Querion's midsection, Phyphen regained some of her composure. Realising it was a 'bot... a familiar 'bot to Querion, the young Maximal stepped beside Querion.
Looking up, the fox was feeling quite small, reaching only up to midway on the 'bots chestplates.
Taking a step out closer to the panther, Phyphen could notrice visible marrs covering the front of the 'bot. Realising theat there was no danger, as the two older 'bot exchanged smiles, the young fox extended out a furry hand to the panther.
"Hi! I'm Phyphen. You're Relic right?" turning back to Querion, "That's what you just called him right? Relic?"
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