The launching of the ship caught the attention of two more Autobots nearby. It did not stop them, it only reminded them of their current mission. The Cybertronian crane and the Cybertronian tugger waved on a number of lookalike Autobot refugees. They had to get to the last shuttle. One had broken down and they were taking the opportunity to add more Autobots to its number. Of course a shuttle like that would be a perfect target for Shockwave's drone army.
"Too slow, too slow, my dear Hoist. Those drones will be on us in no time," yelped Grapple.
"I know it, Grapple, but we can't let our friends become the last casualties of the war for Cybertron," responded Hoist with cheer not matching the situation.
"By becoming the last casualties ourselves? Good Primus, Hoist, I'm an artist, not a warbot," rounded Grapple. He held his neutron assault rifle down. Ahead of him he could see the Decepticons approaching like a plague of locusts. They twinkled against the dark sky of dead Cybertron.
"We all have become soldiers, Grapple. Perhaps later we can return to other things. When Optimus said we were all equal beings, that meant we all had to hold the assault rifle to defend that fact," answered Hoist, who also held a neutron assault rifle.
"Yes, I wonder who gave him that idea," muttered Grapple. They came under fire from the flying Decepticon drones. The last of the yellow generic Autobots entered the ship. The drones were pounding it hard.
"We've got to get them off the ground," said Hoist from behind some cover. He peaked around his rubble wall and fired a few rounds.
"Not likely in this mess," responded Grapple. He tried to wave off the shuttle from his position, but the generics probably didn't know what he was doing. Grapple waved more furiously, but no engines could be heard. The Decepticons kept up the assault. The shuttle door had been closed, but now opened. That was not what he had meant.
"Grapple, go get them out of here," yelled Hoist.
"Sorry, Hoist, but this artist does not forget his best patron," called Grapple.
Hoist looked at the shuttle and then looked at the Decepticons. The mere foot soldiers were giving way to a marauder tank. That tank would make short work of the shuttle. Grapple would not leave him, he would not leave Grapple. They were all going to die right there. He could hear the ominous hiss as the marauder tank charged its main gun. Just a moment more, and then…
Bang! Hoist looked up. That didn't sound like a marauder tank cannon. He peered over his wall and saw the marauder smoking and trying to locate another target, and that target was… a VTOL Cybertronian helicopter. Hoist watched as the helicopter turned into an armored car of some kind and ram into the marauder, powered by massive back wheels. That seemed to finish off the tank's weapons.
Sandstorm transformed and started firing on the drones with his rifle. Ultra Magnus had been right, there was more for the Wreckers to do on this planet. He was fortunate to have come across Grapple and Hoist. The three of them now eliminated the air drones. The tank's supporting ground drones kept advancing.
Sandstorm looked back at the other two and winked. "There's only one way we are getting out of here alive."
"What do you, mean, friend?" asked Hoist, confused.
Sandstorm transformed into his helicopter mode and used the air currents to make the drone debris into a flying trash storm. Then Hoist and Grapple could only watch as the debris storm headed toward the ground drones. That were a few moments of chaos, separated by a few more moments of rifle fire and the screech of metal hitting metal.
Hoist ran toward the debris cloud. He did not notice Grapple with him. The debris settled down to reveal the Decepticon drones fallen all around. In the middle was robot mode Sandstorm. He was in terrible shape, but seemed pleased himself.
"Why didn't you ask for backup?" asked Hoist.
"Wreckers don't ask for backup…they ask for clean…" stammered Sandstorm and then he entered stasis.
"We've got to do something for him," said Hoist, trying to pick up the limp body.
"No facilities here. No safety, either," said Grapple, holding the other side of Sandstorm as the two tried to make their way back toward the still grounded shuttle.
"The shuttle then. We could put him on the shuttle," said Hoist.
"Then we'd be stuck here, Hoist. Those generics are packed in there like sardines. A wounded bot would take up any room for you and me," muttered Grapple.
"But we can make that choice, he cannot," answered Hoist. "Help me load him in."
The two loaded Sandstorm in the shuttle and gave orders for the generics to leave Cybertron. The engines fired and the ship may its way off planet. The generic pilot turned to his generic co-pilot and said, "I ain't ever fighting a war again. Never. You couldn't make me."
"Me neither," said the co-pilot. The shuttle soon left visual range and the two Autobots who had done so much to launch it were now stuck on the planet they had tried to leave. They began walking back toward Iacon. There was no real reason to go there particularly, but it was natural for them to do.
Hoist turned to Grapple and said, "Well, I'm glad that's over." Then all went black, and Hoist found himself as if in a dream. He could not hear Grapple shouting his name or any Decepticons either. He could hear his name being spoken though…Hoist…Hoist…Hoist!
