The first reply to Treadbolts' message made his head ring a little. Whoever it was, they were LOUD, and apparently had no internal volume control. Adjusting the volume, he was about to reply, when a second message - at a much more civilized level - came back.
"Chassis, Recon Alpha Two - this is Treadbolt. Glad to hear someone else survived the uh, impact. I think there's others too. I'm making my way to the bridge. See you there".
Switching frequency, he transmitted again to whomever it was that had the lack of volume control.
"This is Treadbolt. I'm heading to the bridge, as is the only other survivor I got in touch with. If you want to meet us there, we'll work out where the heck we are, and what the situation is".
The bulky soldier picked his way through the corridors and by-ways of the wrecked ship, pausing on occasion to take note of those who had - alas - perished or forced offline from damage. Eventually, he found himself outside the bridge doors. With a heave, he managed to force and coax the doors apart enough to slide his considerable bulk and frame through, and found himself on the bridge.

Part buried and with wreckage and debris hanging, the once hi-tech centre had seen better days. With a sigh, he picked past the broken shapes of more robots, and experimentally tested a few controls - with no positive response.
"Slag," he muttered, before turning to await the others' arrival.