This was written for the IDW forum's writing competition for February. The prompt was unexplored fronts in the IDW universe. I had a lot of fun with this and I tied for second which was exiting! For those of you who miss the reference (because to be honest I almost did when I first wrote it and had to redo the ending because of it…) this goes back to Beachcomber's appearance in Blaster's Spotlight. Enjoy!
Blue stalks waved gently in the wind, nearly as tall as his knee and softer than most anything he had ever felt before. A shadow fell over the fields as an orange cloud drifted in front of one of the planet's two suns, the fluffy flotsam contrasting starkly with the gray sky and shinning all the brighter with the light of the red dwarf that it obscured.
Nearby one of the blue organic stalks seemed to have developed a pulpy growth at its apex, sprouting thick purple protrusions in all directions. Cliffjumper complained that it reminded him of the Con insignia, but Beachcomber had trouble seeing the resemblance. He simply couldn't equate the benign organic growth with the enemy that they were currently chasing through space, spreading their war like a contagion ever since Thunderwing had brought the ultimate destruction to Cybertron.
Ark-12 was still out of commission from the run in with the rogue asteroid that had grounded them on this planet and knocked out their communications. Brawn, Powerglide, and Cliffjumper had been working to fix it, but with such limited resources there was little hope that they would get off this planet under their own power and even slimmer chances that help would be forthcoming, unless someone quite literally stumbled across them.
Unlike the rest of his team, however, Beachcomber was in no hurry to leave.
His comm. beeped for his attention but Beachcomber lazily drew his fingers over the fleshy purple appendages before answering.
"Beach…un…tack! Come in…comber!" Brawn's panicky voice burst from the static laden transmission. Brawn was always cool and confident, never panicked.
"Sounds like trouble," he murmured plaintively to the flower, reluctant to leave even as he dutifully transformed. To his surprise he discovered that the track he'd worn through the bluish sea of organic stalks was gone now and he had to consult his guidance systems for a moment to be sure of which direction he'd come from. Once his course was set, and after making a mental note to investigate the strange phenomenon later, he started off carefully through the field, doing his best not to uproot any of the organics. As he went, however, he found the long blue stalks weaving into his axles and undercarriage, sticking and pulling.
"What the—hey now. I don't want to leave you guys either but my friends need me," he tried to argue, but the plants tightened their hold, dragging him to a stop. His terrain wheels spun uselessly in the soft ground. After revving his engine twice, kicking up dirt and debris, he decided to change tactics and transformed. Unfortunately, this seemed to be just what the organic vines were waiting for and as his form began to shift he felt more and more of the long blue tendrils wrap around him, slithering through opening cracks in his plating, cocooning him. His transformation gears ground to a painful halt, stopping him halfway between either form as stalks continued to wind around his malformed body.
Though he struggled, it was useless. He had no leverage and barely any control. One of the purple flowers rose to obscure his last view of the gray sky. It loomed closer, some type of nectar dripping from its center and he felt the acidic drops burn through his cheek guard. He barely had time to worry about this, though, as the off-color sky was blotted out by a new form, this one tall and blue.
Now that he saw them side by side, he had to admit that the flower did rather resemble the purple insignia.