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Post by TG-Cryo Buster || TG-Cruor on Sept 2, 2015 2:26:25 GMT
Cryo Buster was on his return trip now.
It had been a relatively easy flight from Earth to the location of the drifting mech; little debris was scattered between the two locations, and there were no attempts at interception from a third party or either of the factions.
The mech wasn't all too fond of Decepticons. Unfortunately for the one he was towing along now, Cry had spotted and positively identified his Decepticon insignia. Cryo Buster had traveled a long way to rescue this drifter, so he wasn't about to leave him adrift. No, instead, he'd bring him back to Earth, and once there, determine whether or not this mech was worth keeping alive; whether he was a rescue, or whether he was an object to be eradicated. Now, with the mech attached to Cryo's alt-form and in self-induced stasis, he was nearly back on Earth as he began to pass by the Axiom once again, still completely unaware of the vessel's presence.
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Thrasher
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Avacon
Posts: 229
Likes: 5
Gender: Male
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Post by Thrasher on Sept 6, 2015 17:12:14 GMT
The probe, seeing the tagged flyer return, lit up with a holographic Decepticon insignia and opened fire. It's four barrels shot in rotation, sending molten hot flak laced with electromagnetic energy flying towards Cryo Buster. It's advanced targeting systems kept track of the mech, and anticipated various evasive maneuvers from him. It aimed to kill or disable, whichever was the optimal result.
Inside, Thrasher was monitoring the assembly lines. The facilities were loud, but with repairs rather than production. Toppled items, collapsed framework, and warped machinery riddled the floor below. He stared blankly at the mess, knowing it would be some time before any level of mass production would be possible. Exventing slowly, he vaulted over the catwalk guard rails and landed on the ground floor. He wanted to scavenge anything he could from the mess before the repair systems melted it down.
As he scavenged the scrap, he received a comm message from another Avacon. Yet another spark had returned to the fold. One step closer to restoring the unity.
:: Welcome back, Silvershot, feel free to train until I have a task for you. Your stealth skills still need work. :: He commedia to her as he continued digging for useful items.
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Ichor
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Avacon
Posts: 53
Likes: 1
Gender: Male
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Post by Ichor on Sept 6, 2015 17:18:57 GMT
Emerging from his labs, Ichor walked with an energetic and almost dance-like stride. His optics glowed brightly, and his mouth grinned as well as it possibly could begin his facemask. His equipment was loaded, prepared, ready... To kill anyone he wanted to kill. With a twirl of his digits, he spun an SMG around in his servo. He was happy to have his lab again, and with his friend's face as decoration.
:: I will go to bridge room. :: Ichor responded to Gateway as he shifted into a run and sprinted towards the warp bridge room, his pedes clicking as his plates shifted to allow speed.
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Gateway
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Avacon
Posts: 95
Likes: 1
Gender: Male
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Post by Gateway on Sept 7, 2015 15:44:26 GMT
Gateway awaited Ichor's arrival and stood by the bridge as it shifted and hummed. Once Ichor would arrive he would step through and be ready for whatever may lie at the other side. ::I hope we don't get into too much of a fight out there, I'm hoping it will just be Taggon.:: He commed to Ichor, about to step through.
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Post by TG-Cryo Buster || TG-Cruor on Sept 10, 2015 2:29:56 GMT
Not anticipating the surprise attack like he should have been, Cryo Buster became intensely focused on flight now that he knew there was a nearby threat, having seen the blasts on his in-built proximity motion trackers. Bulky, beastly form sluggishly turning to do a painfully slow barrel roll, he yelled out in pain when the first few shots made impact on his armor. Thankfully, his alternate mode's endoskeletal design held up under the pressure. Whereas most delicate fliers stacked all of their defenses on outer armor, making the event of a breech in their armor a catastrophic one, Cryo Buster's alt-mode was designed to take a few hits and continue flying despite the damage. He set his sensors on the object that attacked him, and was immediately greeted by the looming Decepticon insignia.
It was peculiar, and it took Cryo Buster a moment to figure it out in his helm, but he eventually drew the conclusion that the "Decepticon" he'd picked up must have been a traitor. That posed a question, a question that Cry didn't enjoy having to make on the rare occasion when such cruel decisions were necessary; he would have to decide quickly as to whether or not this Cybertronian was worth the trouble of saving.
Continuing forward and still keeping the in-stasis Decepticon in tow, he intentionally backfired his massive, roaring, powerful thrusters to prematurely detonate a few more shots that had been trailing behind him. Regardless of his efforts, however, more shots made their mark, singing his armor and peeling chunks of the alt-mode's thinner armor from his outer casing, each new injury bringing a muffled groan or yelp of pain that couldn't be heard by others in the vacuum of space.
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Thrasher
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Avacon
Posts: 229
Likes: 5
Gender: Male
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Post by Thrasher on Sept 15, 2015 23:30:33 GMT
Having collected a few canisters of nanites from the mess, Thrasher climbed out of the assembly bays and began moving through corridors towards the bridge again, his HUD notified him of an engagement involving defensive systems. He then noticed a second Avacon beacon, and sent Ichor an order ping to take care of it. They just needed these last two Avacons picked up, and the full team would be assembled.
With a grin, Thrasher continued his brisk pace through the Axiom. His armor shifted continuously as he walked, providing the utmost efficiency in movement and balance as he moved under the dim lighting and overhead fuel lines in the depths of the Axiom. This section was far from regal or designed to be pleasing to the eye. Everything about it was designed for maximizing effeciency and capability while minimizing material costs.
Outside, the defensive probe continued to fire upon Cryo Buster, following him now through the empty space. It's four cannons lit up brightly as electro-magnetically charged flak shells flew out and detonated, sending shreds of molten hot metal that disrupted sensors. In the emptiness of space, it was an odd hunt, where guns that would be blaringly loud were noiseless, and objects clearly without aerodynamic design glided easily.
Meanwhile, the Axiom engaged a tractor beam at low strength, just enough to slow and hamper the movement of the targeted neutral. To the target's perspective, it would seem either systems were failing, or the probe was pulling at him. This beam however, at low power, could not provent escape, only slow and make it easier to target.
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Ichor
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Avacon
Posts: 53
Likes: 1
Gender: Male
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Post by Ichor on Sept 15, 2015 23:38:12 GMT
Receiving an order from Thrasher, Ichor didn't follow Gateway through the warp bridge. Instead, he shut it down, and opened a new one to another location. As the warp bridge recalibrated and powered up for a new portal, Ichor began disguising. His wings and rotors split up and shifted into his torso, his face mask folded away, revealing a shifting face. Wheels formed in his upper back and ankles, his paint turned black with red trimmings, and his energon veins and optics turned red. coughing, Ichor grinned.
I am... Drive-By... He mubled to himself, finishing his disguise with a new voice. He then grinned with his rotting mouth, and watched as the warp bridge opened up. 'Drive-By' then transformed his left servo into an SMG, and stepped through the vortex.
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Decrypt
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Decepticon
Posts: 65
Likes: 1
Gender: Male
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Post by Decrypt on Sept 16, 2015 1:29:40 GMT
StarLord finishes up the communications fix "ALL DONE!!!"
Star sits down in a chair and starts playing music snapping his hands and dancing
((I have been so busy with school I am sorry))
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Post by TG-Cryo Buster || TG-Cruor on Sept 16, 2015 2:23:52 GMT
"F-fiends..." Cryo Buster spoke silently through the void, his frame creaking in effort as it strained against the force of the probe's blows. The fire was continuous, and bombarding his structure. Thanks to his unique alt-mode's nature he was holding up, but he knew full well that he couldn't keep this up for very much longer. In a hasty decision to save himself- to run away; live to fight another day- he unloaded the slumbering Decepticon's form. Pieces of his armor were singed by the blasts, and the damage he'd sustained was more superficial than anything. Although painful, he'd easily find somewhere to repair himself in peace and quiet back on Earth.
As he released Mourn, the Decepticon was caught in the tractor beam the Axiom had activated, leaving Cryo Buster's thrusters free to burst a bellowing, loud, yet entirely silent boom as it launched him forward, quickly now with his movement regained, and now that he was free from the fire of the probe.Speedily on his return to Earth now, his form grew red hot as it slingshot straight into Earth's orbit, now safely out of range of the Axiom's weapons and far too difficult to pursue to be worth the effort.
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Post by TG-Mourn || TG-Cackler on Sept 16, 2015 2:57:06 GMT
The form of Mourn, only ever so slightly damaged and slowly seeping energon from an injury brought to him by Vehicon aboard the Nemesis, was limp as it floated in the black. Caught in the tractor beam, arms and legs bent slowly away from the Axiom in lifeless motion, his chassis' slender form being tugged toward the ship more quickly than Cryo Buster's flight had been hindered. Having no opposing forces working against the tractor beam, and not even so much as aware of what was happening to him, Mourn remained in self-induced stasis as he was dragged toward the Avacon base.
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Thrasher
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Avacon
Posts: 229
Likes: 5
Gender: Male
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Post by Thrasher on Sept 17, 2015 0:00:46 GMT
Arriving to the bridge, Thrasher saw that the communications were now online, he could now comm any Avacon on the planet below, as well as communicate with the other Avacons across the stars. He then noticed that there was a red marker showing that he was extremely past due for routine check-up with Avernus, and that the defences were pulling in a body. Thrasher pondered over his present options, and decided to delay contacting Avernus to investigate the body that was being hauled on-board via tractor beam.
Briskly making his way out into the corridors outside the bridge, Thrasher decided to take the fastest route possible to the hangar where the body would be dropped. Opening a cargo door, Thrasher stepped through and onto a monorail platform designed for quick delivery of cargo throughout the Axiom. He activated the motors and glided through the tunnels towards the Hangar as Mourn would be inside about the time Thrasher arrived.
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Post by TG-Mourn || TG-Cackler on Sept 17, 2015 0:37:24 GMT
While the limp form of the Decepticon- or rather, former Decepticon- dropped into the hangar, systems were already beginning to slowly arouse from his state of stasis sleep.
An arm moved a twitch, and then a leg, and it was clear as soon as he dropped to the floor of the hangar, at which point Thrasher simultaneously entered the room, that Mourn had arisen from his attempt at self-preservation. It didn't take long for the cold, calculating mech to draw his weapon, aiming the energy rifle at Thrasher's chest as he braced himself on the floor with both peds, rising sharply. Blinking his optics free from the lingering effects of a deep slumber, he hissed out a vent of air, only to realize that he needn't have done it; he was somewhere in space, and here it was cold. His chassis had no use for his coolant systems presently, and it would serve him best to cease function of the internal systems that were now only an unnecessary usage of his own energy reserves.
"Name," he demanded with a faint voice, half stumbling to the side and losing his grip on the rifle; the effects of his damages from not only the escapade on the Nemesis, but also the blows that had shook him from the Avacon probe, were now beginning to take effect. Rifle clanging hollowly as it fell to the ground, Mourn struggled to keep his stance steady. He could feel his chassis aching once again for repair, and already his wounds were starting to slowly leak energon onto the floor of the hangar.
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Thrasher
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Avacon
Posts: 229
Likes: 5
Gender: Male
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Post by Thrasher on Sept 17, 2015 1:37:18 GMT
Watching the weapon fall from Mourn's servos, Thrasher continued walking towards Mourn. His face kept a flat expression, staring with unshifting red optics. The scar that ran across hice faceplate from his forehead, across his left optic, and down the side of his faceplate was a pronounced feature of his expression, showing that the mech had plenty of experience fighting, or a mishap in training if unlucky.
His armor shifted, loosening and forming a more ornamental layout, accentuating the fact that he was a Field Commander within the AvaCon forces. His right servo shifted and moved into his forearm as it transformed and became an integrated plasma repeater of model unknown to Mourn. The air around it's vents began to shift as heat poured out of them, showing that the weapon was charging up.
In your position, Decepticon, my name isn't a worry to you. You are severely wounded and leaking energon all over my hangar floor. I ask you to give me sufficient reason not to end your miserable existance, and instead move you to the repair bay. Thrasher said in a deep, cold voice, with something of a slight growl mixed into his speech.
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Post by TG-Mourn || TG-Cackler on Sept 18, 2015 0:20:59 GMT
A sharp tinge of pain brought a wince and a grimace. Before he made the hasty action of getting himself into more trouble than he could handle, the tactician took a moment, now that his helm had cleared enough to make proper use of his processing systems, to observe present circumstances.
Analysis: cold conditions suggest either a controlled atmosphere within premises, or a location someplace cold; space, perhaps, or a cold-climate world; further analysis needed to draw conclusion of present location. Bot's appearance shifts; no known explanation from current knowledge of Cybertronian anatomy. Has been magnanimous enough thus far not to offline immediately; either carries Autobot-similar morale, or seeks to gain something from self. Further analysis of character traits required. Movements as well as chosen armor appearance suggest regal origins; leader? Commander? Further information required to draw proper conclusion; likely someone holding authority- perhaps the owner of present location's facilities, or else acting as such. Uncertain.
Thrasher's words were taken in, and Mourn drew more information from the mech's attitude, as well as confirmed his suspicion that this mech was a leader of some sort. It was clear to him that from his tone and inflection- the way he spoke to him, a Decepticon, in such a derogatory fashion- that he was not on good terms with Mourn's chosen personal identity. That wasn't surprising; Decepticons were known to make more enemies than friends. Mourn was quick to perceive that so long as he was known as a Decepticon, he was in danger, and clearly being in no condition to fight, there was only one option. He would have to exploit the circumstances of his arrival here... whatever the had been.
"Not a Decepticon," he said, voice growing stronger as he made an added effort to hold himself aright, standing as tall and regal in his gold-painted frame as possible. His crimson optics shuttered, and he took in the appearance of Thrasher's frame once again. "How did I come here? The last I knew, I was being ousted from my faction for attempting to eliminate "Commander" Backbeat."
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Thrasher
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Avacon
Posts: 229
Likes: 5
Gender: Male
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Post by Thrasher on Sept 19, 2015 0:36:42 GMT
Thrasher watched the wounded mech, seeing that he was pushing himself to merely stand straight in such a situation. He could tell from the mech's behavior and optics that he was analyzing Thrasher, the environment, and his options. He obviously had an alt-mode native to the planet below, judging by the softer looking tires, unprotected lights, and simple paint scheme of his armor. The Decepticon insignia on the mech also went against what his words said.
Raising the plasma repeater, Thrasher angled it to examine it's mechanism. The quickly rotating cylinder that glowed red with heat spun madly, creating a gentle whirring noise to accentuate it's status as fully charged and ready to shoot. Lowering the weapon again, Thrasher resumed his attention to the mech, wondering what would have caused this situation himself.
I'm afraid you aren't in any position to be the one asking questions. And if you aren't a Decepticon, you may explain why you bear the insignia... He said, drifting for a moment. ... And thank you for informing me that Shockwave is no longer the leading Decepticon on this rock.
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Post by TG-Mourn || TG-Cackler on Sept 19, 2015 2:02:54 GMT
Mourn tilted his helm, humming softly from deep within his chassis. "Strange, how apt you are at asking questions, and yet so poor at hearing their answers," he claimed cheekily, though the sarcasm was set off and softened by the toneless, flat inflection of his voice. "I just said, whoever-you-are, that I was ousted from my former faction after attempting to assassinate it's acting leader. You would do well to listen better than you interrogate."
Clasping the clawed digits of his servos together behind his back, Mourn let a faint sneer take his features over. The weapon he didn't recognize, and hence he hadn't a clue whether it would be charged or not; whether pointing it in his direction were a fatal motion, or simply an idle threat.
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Thrasher
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Avacon
Posts: 229
Likes: 5
Gender: Male
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Post by Thrasher on Sept 19, 2015 2:09:04 GMT
Thrasher smirked slightly, sharpened dentas barely visible inside his oral cavity. His scared optic flickered slightly as he tracked the mech's motions and listened to his answer. It was plain to see this former Decepticon was a smart mech, paying good attention to detail. With a slow, overdone step for nothing more than effect, Thrasher moved closer to him. He could smell the energon, and hear the sparkbeat of the mech.
Perhaps I should listen better, but suppose I wanted to see how you would respond to being asked that which has been answered? Either way, you repeated yourself, and still haven't shown yourself to be any more useful than the average backstabbing Decepticon.
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Post by TG-Mourn || TG-Cackler on Sept 19, 2015 21:34:23 GMT
He couldn't argue with that, and in an instant, it had been decided that this mech, whoever he was, was one of two types: although clearly a quick thinker, he was either the type to actually think ahead and make harsh, unforgiving decisions such as that which he'd just identified; asking that which had already been answered to judge the subject's own wits and quickness, or he was simply the kind of mech that was fast enough to cover over his own mistakes with a clever retort that served the purpose of misleading or otherwise attempting to trick the subject.
Mourn was intrigued, admittedly. Digits clattered together quietly, fidgeting with nothing as the mech thought; he thought quickly, and precisely, so unlike his observations, which had been betrayed by his roving optics, Mourn's thinking was entirely private, and Thrasher would be unaware of just how quickly the former Decepticon was piecing together bits of information from his surroundings, his interactions with this mech, and the tools he had on-hand which he wouldn't have been aware of.
"Useless?" he spat, purposefully sounding disgusted at just the thought of it. "You insult me, mech. Though, truly, how could I judge whether or not anything at my disposal could be of use to you, if I haven't even the notion of who you are... and where your allegiances lie?" He allowed a slight smirk to rise in the corner ridges of his intake, and his crimson optics flashed as he shifted his weight, turning to the side to begin walking, pacing really; a harmless movement that wouldn't raise any alarm from Thrasher.
"Though, as you've so readily betrayed of yourself from our discussion thus far, I know you are not a Decepticon; a trait, clearly, which we both now share in common. Therefore, I plead my case. Whoever you are, you are clearly of another faction. Autobot, not likely, else-wise I would have been imprisoned the moment I'd woken from stasis.
"Therefore, you are of some third party to the Cybertronian war." This he concluded by stopping his steps short, his long, slender legs freezing mid-step. "I have information about the Decepticons which may prove of use to you, and an ally still within their ranks who practices undying loyalty to me. If you are, as I've surmised, an enemy to my former faction, then I can readily offer you the information in my possession, and the allegiance of a very powerful mech with free access to the Decepticon ship."
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Silvershot
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Seeker
Posts: 18
Likes: 5
Gender: Female
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Post by Silvershot on Sept 21, 2015 20:05:38 GMT
A full-silver one layered armor female seeker with blue optics came into view at Thrasher's side before drawing the pistols from her waist and aiming it at the newcomer. She didn't trust newcomers to their side of the Avacons, even if it's a Decepticon. Autobots? One strike, they're out. They had to go.
"Thrasher, does this one need a termination?"
The silver femme asked the commander with a slightly deep voice with a slight Russian accent as her guns were still drawn.
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Post by Cup 'o' Joe on Sept 27, 2015 13:55:10 GMT
A warp bridge spasmed to life out of the nothingness that was within the Command bridge, granting a twenty one foot mech entry, about to be followed by two others of his kind. Vaqus was a sturdy looking mech, he had bulk on his arms, chest, and lower legs, yet it was not boxy or entirely round, but rather gracefully mended, each piece of his fitting together and blending with the other like that of a complete puzzle. Complimenting his build of evenly distributed bulk, was his color scheme and piece positioning, a small cockpit placed on his chest, while two large turbines rested each atop of one long and thick cylinder on Vaqus's back. His servos were thick, like that of a dwarf; built for might. His bronze optics gleamed like lanterns as they searched the area for the source of every noise and every movement. Centered in the twin Bronze candle-lights was the most vague essence of a rich person purple.
::Mission successful Commander. We encountered Taggon, but I get the feeling you might know that already---Gateway coming and all that, along with the fact that Contrail seemed a bit jumpy.:: Vaqus said to Thrasher. So what next...
Vaqus: I've gotta head off again soon--I'm only going to be sticking around for another two minutes.
Vaqus's voice was slightly rasped by his gas-mask like mouth guard, which had two thick cords leading for each side of his mask, tucking into the rear ends of his shoulders, hooking in right where the turbine rested on the cylinders. The aquatronian muttered a few things to himself as he strode forth, glancing at a screen. The screens he passed indicated a Deception signature, but Vaqus took no hasty draw: the commander's signature was right beside it, the mech no doubt handling the situation. Thrasher had that rare calm collectedness that few held, an admirable quality, something that added to his charisma. Vaqus would leave briskly soon enough, but until then--Vaqus found himself heading for his own quarters. He had a few things to contribute to his collections of things--
~
Once inside his room, Vaqus briskly shut the door behind him, beholding the shelves of things he'd kept in his possession. Scraps from missions, small trinkets that enforced memories of investigations--Data pads cluttered his desk, stuffed his drawers. Some of the stuff inside his room was Taggon's old belongings. The last SiC of the Avacons had not cleared his own room up before leaving, and once Airwatcher had inherited it, he couldn't help but keep some of the things his lost brother had left behind. Vaqus approached a drawer, repleneshing his supply of grenades, and finding his sharpening stone. Upon stooping over, Vaqus grimaced, and recalled his long wound that the Seeker had given him. The Avacon medic was going to be hysterical about it most likely. Whatever. Vaqus continued to unload and reload items into his chest--the place was a bit trashed. Vaqus hadn't been in it for years though---
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