I had this idea while my U.S. History class was watching The Lost Battalion. Basically, it is what a fallen Autobot soldier (he's an OC, there is no character named Binary that I know of, if there is, it's not the same one). I think it's my best "moment-in-time" piece. I had ideas for a companion piece, where it's a sniper who gets downed, so it's what he sees, but I'm gonna see how this one does first.

It is my world.

I didn't make it to the middle of the field. I made it to Prime's location, and I jumped in front of him to take a shell. That's all I remember. I've been here for about half a megacycle, I think, maybe more. I drift in and out, but when I'm in it, I can't do anything but lay here. I hurt. I hurt a lot.

I can't see anything. But my audios still work. My audios are everything to me. I was in the music business for quite some time before I joined up, and when they assigned me, Blaster made me the RADAR/SONAR tech for my unit, because of my audios.

All around me, I hear the sounds of shelling, artillery fire, and yelling. I even catch snippets of talk, every now and then.

Most of it is done by the soldiers, wondering about their buddies. I try to listen to them when they talk: some of their buddies are my buddies too. They have different voices, some are tough, some are scared, some swagger, some panic. Some have seen so much of this violence, their voices lose tone, to match their personalities. I know my buddies by their accents, Icon, City-Slicker, Country-Folk and the like.

Some of it is Ratchet or Hoist, and sometimes it's so close I can't imagine why they don't see me. I hear them yell to each other across the field.

Some of it is yelled in the harsh tongue of the Decepticons. I don't understand it, but it gets so close sometimes, I'm afraid. I'm very very afraid. They sound angry when they speak.

I even hear the officers yelling to each other in the trench, every now and then. It impresses me how I can hear the Head of Intelligence's voice, even out here. Her voice carries very well. I appreciate tone like that.

Why hasn't a medic picked me up? I'm online. I'm sure of that. Do they think I'm gone? No, they pick up fallen bodies too, and bring them in. I know they do.

I want to cry for help, but what if the footsteps I hear aren't Autobots? If I yell, and a Decepticon hears me...

No. I'll be quiet.

Soon, I hear footsteps again. Someone is next to me. I hear their feet turn in the shrapnel, and then one knee touches down beside me. Someone touches my shoulder.

"Can you hear me, soldier? I am Autobot SiC Prowl. Do you know who I am?"

What's he doing out of the trench? Shouldn't he be... I don't know, Second-in-Commanding, or something? Isn't he half the Tactical Team or some such nonsense? I nod my head.

"Can you speak? Tell me your name, soldier."

"... I'm... Binary, Sir. P-Private, Kappa Unit RADAR/SONAR technician, Sir..."

"Where are you hit?"

"I don't know, Sir."

"I'm going to take you to Ratchet now, alright?"

I let him pick me up and carry me. He has me over one shoulder, I can tell. He is running serpentine back to the trench. They train you never to run straight, because then you can be hit.

The shelling becomes more and more distant, and the noise of the trenches becomes louder. I hear the officers yelling here, even louder. Some are barks of orders for us cadets to follow, but most of the officers seem to be yelling at Prowl. He answers each one calmly.

"KA-POW! Prowl, I could use that strategy now!"

"Hold on, Warpath. My hands are full right now."

"Prowl, tell Prime we're not moving forward anytime soon! Our snipers're getting killed out there!"

"Tell him yourself, Jazz, I'm busy."

"Prowl, have you seen any of my scouts? I need that intelligence if we are to properly strategize."

"Blurr's making his way back now."

"CADET BUMPER, GET YOUR AFT IN GEAR! I WILL THROW YOU OVER THE SIDE OF THIS TRENCH IF I HAVE TO!"

"Prowl, give me the kid."

I am handed off, and tossed over a new shoulder. I know by the voice that it is Ironhide. He takes me down below, where I give in to the sweet oblivion of exhaustion.