[The video clicks on, showing Exsilium’s two resident Cybertronians in the frame. Occupying the top half of the frame was Nova Prime, standing behind Rodimus with his arms crossed and a vigilant look in his optics.
He appeared to be rather calm considering he’d been managing on a damaged supporting joint. Cybertronians weren’t built any less hardy in the ancient past, it seems. His voice is clear and sounded rather authoritative as he makes his demand:]
The services of a specialist with mechanical biology are currently required.
[As much as he agreed to let Rodimus handle the… recruiting, he wouldn’t stay entirely silent. Whoever would repair Rodimus would look at him as well, and he would need to be considered worthy.]
[Rodimus, however, isn’t anywhere as confrontational as Nova - he’s looking to just get himself repaired rather than be picky about who’s doing it. Only being able to use one arm is the worst.]
That’s probably asking for too much - so anyone who knows how to repair machines who doesn’t mind a crash course in synthetic life and won’t make a broken joint or gun wounds worse will work. I [A pause as he begrudgingly corrects himself] we’d like ourselves repaired as soon as possible, but if anyone’s still on the moon, it can wait a day.
[He can’t believe he’s having to ask for medical attention, but desperate times on Earth away from the Chief Medical Officer call for desperate measures and all that. He does, at least, look like he’s put out about it.
And, as an addendum:]
Hey Ella, do your powers cover paint?
[For the bare metal the repairs will probably leave behind.]
((Tags will get replies from both bots! Blue is Nova, red is Rodimus.))