The mech stood, staring about him. Earlier, he had come upon the wreckage of a small settlement on the frontier- and those who had destryed it. His rage had been great- so great, that none of the raiders had survived.
Now, he stood alone, gazing upon the carnage.
Energon, not all his own, streamed down his frame to mingle with that of the slain marauders.
The mech suddenly felt exhaustion. He slumped to a sitting position, leaning against the crumbling wall of a former habitation, his helm drooping forward.
The tall mech was in recharge before a nano-cycle had passed.
Almost an entire cycle had come and gone before he awoke. A sound, echoing through the wreckage, had called him to wakefullness.
Standing, he moved cautiously torward the noise, a soft scratching, a low, continuous moan.
He moved more quickly now, a wordless anxiety driving him. That sound- it seemed to revrebrate throughout his soul. It begged him to hurry, to save the author of the cry- to get there in time.
Scrambling, the tall mech struggled through the rubble. He slid down a collapsed cellar, to where three walls had collapsed, leaning crazily against each other, sheltering whoever was inside.
Carefully, he dug through the pile, trying to extricate the trapped one, without causing the walls to collapse.
Finally, though, he gave up.
He unstrapped his war hammer from his back, and slammed it into a few key points of the unstable stucture.
The rubble shifted, debris rolling down the sides. He struck again. The hopeless wail intensified, then died out. The mech worked faster, striking it again and again. Finally, he was able to wrench a portion of the slab away.
Strapping his hammer again to his broad back, he looked down on the trapped one.
Rather, trapped ones. Curled up together, the four young ones, scarcely older than sparklings, huddled. They stared up at him, terror in their optics. The oldest, a bulky mech, scooted between the others and their rescuer.
Leaning down, the adult mech scooped the four up easily in his cupped servos, and set them on the ground. The four huddled close to the oldest, still cowering in fear.
The mech looked at them for a moment. He was a warrior, a wanderer, not a father. Still, he could not leave them. With a sigh, he scooped up the young ones, and set out.
For better or for worse, his fate was now tied to theirs.
