Moments of when Sparrow reacted is the moment those cannons moved.
Cannons swiveled, locking on the crashed vessel "Tin Can". Despite a dune partially obscuring the sight of it. It would not matter as they thundered–Boom!
An oversized Cannon thumbed, its barrel recoiled from the earth shuddering shockwave. It was the first to fire and moments later more followed. Each ridiculously large with smaller cannons swiveling to follow the fire path of the larger cannon battery. Within seconds Tin-can dived as it lost control and its engines were knocked out. A small nudge more and it turned into an uncontrollable crash course.
The cannons still trailing the falling ship halted as they lost their power, Synthesis redirected power back to necessary systems. Finding no need for their continued use, their purpose served well.
The chances of survival from the crew or even the shop itself is quite high. Despite his dislike of the human race or most life forms most specifically those whom brought the prism collective to its knees. He did give credit where it was due. The one known as captain sparrow was quite skilled. Even after forcing the situation beyond an uncontrollable state he had barely managed to guide the ship into a semi planned crash course.
Considering the ship withstood a great deal of firepower that would have in the past ripped destroyers apart. He supposed that was a testament to the centuries passed allowing even civilian craft to gain abilities to withstand. This partially excites him. Survivors are good, why so?
They will serve as practice. For whom? Clearly his troops, without further ado Synthesis stepped into the assembly zone. The machines frozen, their eyes yet without the spark of electric life. Synthesis rose his hand nanites breaking off of him in droves, making his thick semi liquidness thin out until light ocean blue veins could faintly be seen.
Each pulse like a heartbeat, while steely fibers flexed as his body moved. Synthesis body thinned in nanites the dust-like particles swept through the varying machines, their forms decaying at a visible rate. In actuality they were being dismantled by the dust sized nanites with an organized chaos. Like machines slowly disintegrating, yet a closer look showed just how orderly that was done.
These were not the ones he built, but old ones. From when the mothership was still operational. They were clearly way more high tech than anything he could make, but their power source he couldn't access let alone power them up. He supposed there was some sort of authority. Maybe that prism in the core knew it. However, he could hardly study it let alone peirce it to hack. Simply put, his system had long told him it wasn't possible at his current capacity. That's okay though. He preferred to build his own troops.
Tin-can lay in ruin. Buried in the dunes its hull warped and torn with sparks arcing from broken systems and small billows of black smoke rising from it. Much of its weapons were damaged or utterly destroyed upon impact. Parts of the ship were gouged out leaving heaps of twisted metals.
"Ugnn...huumm owhh.. Wha.." Sparrow picked his head up. The blaring roaring in his ears. The cockpit colored red from the blaring sounds. He attempted to unbuckle, yet found the belt stuck in place. "Ah… hey… Hey!" He scanned the cockpit, seeing three of the pilots out cold. The head pilot seemed very injured. Blood streaking down his forehead and his left arm broken. Twisted at wrong angles.
He mumbled at first, before speaking louder. He didn't have a knife on him, but they could help. Or well he had hoped but they also looked all sorts of messed up. But as he felt the situation of helplessness rise he heard a sound and a small hope rose in his heart.
A waking pilot groaning in pain responded. He slowly picked his head up "What.. the.. ugh.. My head.." The pilot who went by Dyr looked around. Before Sparrow spoke again. "Hey.. I need.. Help.. Ughn.." Dyr panned his gaze past the other pilots and the clearly disgruntled room. Panels warped, some loose and hanging, wires still sparking, even a pipe steaming, its high pitched whine barely picked up across the cacophony of damages.
'Damn this mission went awry so fucking hard..' he picked himself up, thank goodness he managed to unbuckle, he stumbled to the captain's chair. Dyr tried to unbuckle the captain, but it was clearly stuck. "Damn.. Alright.. I got this." He looked up, before stumbling to a medkit still safely within its metal box. He grabbed a pair of scissors before stumbling back to his captain, it was clear his leg was injured. However he wasn't aware of how bad it was. Felt strained at best, at worst maybe it was broken. Didn't feel that way.
After freeing the Captain he tried to check the condition of the others. But he backed off swiftly with mixed emotions. The head pilot looked unconscious but he was dead. And the other pilot wasn't breathing either. Without another word he helped the captain up and towards the door.
"Wait.. Wha..what about the others?"
"Dead.. Let's go captain, we gotta get you to med." He swiped the doors controls. However only one side of it opened. The other side whined but its motors refused. Making them shuffle through. The corridor looked no different than the cockpit. Wires budging from the walls, panels slightly ajar. Part of the corridor had caved in at some point burying a door barring the shields control room. Water flowing out of a cracked pipe at an unsettling pace. It seems the ship was at a slant. As well causing a bit of discomfort trying to navigate the damages. Hopefully med bay wasn't destroyed.
Opening the second door the water pooled out in a harmless tidal wave. Before spreading out.. "Med bay… med… Ah there."
Dyr helped Captain down another corridor, before hitting med bay. hlHe ignored the clear deceased bodies. Laying Captain down on one. He patted the Sparrow's shoulder "Take a rest, I will go find the others.." Dyr said, giving Sparrow medicines before heading out. He had little medical knowledge, so he needed to find appropriate staff.
Just as he swiped another door, it opened to four people talking. Or rather three being talked to. Two of them carried a green box. Not to mention, all of them were holding weapons from the armory. Not surprising, the men glanced over and one of them laughed with delight. "Dyr! I'm so damn glad you're alive! What about Koi and Trevor? Oh and captain?"
Dyr shook his head. "Koi and Trevor are dead. The captain has a severe concussion amongst other injuries. Have you found others? What's the report so far?" He asked seriously. Leaning up against the door frame to rest his injured leg
The three shared a look, their gazes worried. Deep rumbles from the ship likely falling apart. "After we crashed, we consolidated in the cafeteria. Herald and the others from the engine are dead. The explosion wiped out half the engine room. A few survived, there are only twelve of us left, not including you and Captain of course. Now there are fourteen... Look Dyr things are bad. Really bad. Between the scouting teams, and us. We're down to thirds of the crew."
"Damn it" he muttered. "What's worse we were shot down" he expressed but the three didn't even look surprised. Leading him to ponder.. how long were they out, and what's happening. But he needn't ask. They were already telling him.
One of the men seriously said to back up the issue of being shot down. "Dyr, we are under siege by machines!"