This story was originally posted under the title of TF:Gunslinger. After some reworking here and there, it's being reposted under a new title to better reflect its changes from the previous edition.

The Death-Caller

The motley crew of Autobots approached the crashed ship with extreme caution. Life on Asteroid 27-Delta was usually quiet and rather boring. The colony, established two vorns prior, had been gathering little more than dust and other random bits of debris ever since it was declared locked-down six months back. A trio of Autobots and a handful of Power Dashers were placed in charge of monitoring day-to-day operations, which amounted to pretty much doing nothing. The bottom line was they were put there to keep it in Autobot control, though why the Decepticons would be interested in a floating rock was open for debate.

The Power Dashers were little more than mechanical fodder in the grand scheme of things. They had one purpose, and that one purpose was to aid their fellow Autobots. The majority of them never even received a proper name, instead being labeled PD-1, PD-2, and so on and so on. They were loyal, yet somewhat primitive in their design.

While the fodder remained back at the colony, the actual Autobot warriors stood meters away from an apparent Decepticon vessel with smoke and flames escaping from its damaged structure. Sidetrack, a member of the micro-masters Battle Patrol, was the toughest of the three. Kick-Off, the lone Action Master on the asteroid, served as their security chief. Being a Transformer that couldn't transform earned him hushed ridicule and passing snickers, especially from current teammate Sidetrack. But he was good at his job, having been trained by the late and great Ironhide. The third and final Autobot standing before the mysterious craft was another micro-master, leader of the Rescue Patrol and respected medic, Fixit. He was the acting commander of the group during their tenure on the asteroid.

"What's your take on this, Kick-Off?" Fixit asked, carefully observing the craft and maintaining a respectable and safe distance.

"It's a Carnage-class ship," Kick-Off stated. "Maximum crew of nine." The Action Master had a solid understanding of Decepticon procedures, due to his time in a Decepticon re-eduction camp. His hatred for the Decepticons ran deep, matched only by the knowledge he had amassed detailing their way of operating. "It's the Death-Caller."

Fixit looked over towards his informer and could sense the rage flowing through his circuits. "Any particular reason for the name?"

Kick-Off remembered back to his imprisonment. Among the images, mangled between scenes of torture and dark-alley justice, was one that would never be erased from his memory. The sight of a ship landing in the open square within the prison, unloading dead body after dead body. It was a powerful image, one that burned itself into the data tracks of all who witnessed it. It told the prisoners there was no hope, no escape from the power of the Decepticon Empire. "When you see that ship," he answered, "Death is with it."

"That settles it," Sidetrack remarked. "Let's finish the job." In the mind of Sidetrack, there were good guys and bad guys and that's all there was to it. And anybody piloting a ship known as the Death-Caller were most definately the bad guys.

"Wait," Fixit shouted. "There may be survivors." His appreciation and respect for life included those who took the lives of others, no matter how politically incorrect such a sentiment seemed.

"Exactly," Sidetrack barked. "Let's blow it up before any survivors stumble out here. No need to go toe-to-toe when they're all sitting pretty in a nice tin box."

Fixit remained strong and stood by his decision. "That's not how Autobots do things, and you know it."

Kick-Off shared the same opinion of Sidetrack, but was more respectful towards Fixit's role of leader. "You got a life-scanner built into your programming, so use it." The security officer fought his instincts to simply blow the ship to bits, and it was a fight he wouldn't mind losing before much longer.

"There's too much radiation leaking from the ship," Fixit explained. His sensors couldn't cut through the interference, leading to a very unpopular announcement. "We'll have to go inside."

Sidetrack wasn't pleased, but complied with Fixit's order and followed his allies inside the ship. The boarding door required some muscle to open, and black smoke shot out into the alien sky. They were cautious of the scattered fires and leery of hidden survivors, but they managed to reach the battle bridge without incident. Shortly before reaching the main chamber, Fixit noticed five odd looking containment structures. Each had identical control panels, matching color-bars, and a razor covered sickle hanging eerily down the center. Kick-Off noticed the curious stares and informed the medic that they were known as Death Tubes. "They'd strap you in, flip on the energo-flow, and kill you a little at a time."

"Okay, we're here," Sidetrack barked. His weapon was charged and ready for action; his optics taking count of their discovery. Five Decepticons and four unrecognizable mechanoids lay motionless, seemingly damaged to the point of ceasing to function. "Start checking for life signs so we can get out of this tomb and destroy it."

Fixit quickly began his investigation, mentally recording the identities of the fallen warriors. "Four unknown beings," he whispered to himself, "Origins-unknown." He continued around the room, a growing sense of being watched quickening his actions. "Runamuck-Battle Charger, Shocktrooper... Runabout- Battle Charger, Shocktrooper... Krok-Action Master, Foot Soldier... Axer-Action Master, Bountyhunter... Treadshot-Action Master, Gunslinger..."

The medic's voice trailed off as his scanner picked up a faint energy signature coming from one of the charred bodies. "We have a survivor," he called out to Kick-Off and Sidetrack. "Let's get him back to the base." His teammates reluctantly did as ordered. Upon exiting the ship, they paused before continuing on and turned their weapons on the craft. Ready, willing, and eager, Sidetrack transformed into his tank mode and locked onto the outermost fuel relayer and fired away. The explosion could be heard three grids away.