Rescue 3
Sort of a Transformers Movieverse fanfic
Suddenly another organic sprang up and flung itself across Drift's optics. The Autobot heard an explosion and the Decpticon roared in agony. The organic sprang off of his optics and immediately joined the medic who was again working on his injury. Deadfire was staggering backwards grasping at his optics. Another organic ran out from under Drift and lashed out at the Decpticon with a long thin cord. It struck the backside of the cons left knee joint, there was a crackle of energy, and Deadfire crashed down on all fours. The commander leapt forward and opened fire on the Decpticon's face. Two organics fired grapples at the back of the con's head and zipped up the lines. While he was distracted by the commander's fire the others shoved a large wad of something into his neck joint. Something explosive, Drift realized, as soon as the two on the con's neck had leapt free the commander hit a trigger. There was a blinding flash and Deadfire's body crashed to the sand. His head bounced and rolled some distance away.
Drift looked down at the diminutive creatures with a new respect. How they knew about Deadfire's weakness was a mystery. But it was clear they had experience fighting Decpticons, and equally clear they assumed Autobots to be allies. A handful staggered up assisting the two who had planted the charge. Their cloaks had been damaged and in places revealed their small, bipedal bodies beneath several layers of protective coverings. Drift reached out a servo and gently touched one of the injured. It responded with a smile and placed one delicate hand as firmly as it could on the proffered digit. It seemed to be reassuring him that the damage was of no consequence.
Drift felt a slight twinge from his own damaged joint. He turned his attention to the small pack of organics who were now welding on a thin, flexible patch over the newly repaired area. The medic scampered around the joint one more time, and then pulled out the numbing device again. It aimed at Drifts servo and activated the device. Pain rippled through the repaired systems again, but it was the even pain of healing. Six more of the little creature trotted up with a long sturdy piece of scrap they had gathered from somewhere in the ruins. The medic leapt off of his leg and joined the other organics in a circle around him. The six carrying the metal rod proffered it up to him. The rest looked on expectantly.
The Autobot gingerly attempted to stand. He got up on his one good knee, and reached out to grasp the rod. He used it to lever himself upright on both legs. He leaned on the support of the scrap of metal for a moment then took one cautious step. There was still a little pain in the joint but it was fading. The medic clearly knew how to treat a Cybertronian. He looked down into the expectant faces below him and smiled. They burst into a subdued cheer and ran around thumping and bumping into each other in joy. Drift knelt and reached out cautiously to the only one not indulging in the celebration, the one whose arm had been injured attempting to assist him. Drift could read pain in the little creatures face, but it smiled up at him and gamely gave the gesture that the Autobot was coming to recognize as a sign of comfort among them.
A rumble of falling rocks came from across the way. Drift stood and drew a sword. The little organics immediately responded to his move and triggered their cloaks. The injured were hustled behind the rocky outcroppings while the rest faded into the shadows cast by two moons. To the Autobot's immense relief a familiar figure rounded the corner in a crouching run. Drift sheathed his sword and made what he hoped was a clear sign of welcome for the sake of his new allies. The battered green warrior stopped dead and stared around the open space in quiet surprise. His optics traced over Deadfire's body, his head laying across the way, Drift standing strong on a repaired joint, and the signs of battle scattered over the sand.
"What," growled the old soldier, "in the name of Primus is going on here? We leave you here as bait, get ambushed ourselves, fight off a pack o' cons, and come back to rescue you, only to find you're not only online but in better shape than we left you and have taken out the mark all by yourself." During this surly tirade a half a dozen other Autobots had come and taken up positions around the two bots. Drift smiled and said,
"Not me. They, took out Deadfire." He gestured toward where he thought the commander was in the shadows. Kup followed his indication and looked at him quizzically when nothing emerged. Drift could see the questions forming in the old soldier's eyes. But before he could explain they heard the now familiar chirping noise from just below. Kup glanced down and let out a low string of curses. The commander of the organics had seemed to materialize right at his feet. He swung his gun down and aimed it at the diminutive creature, who stared up defiantly at him. Drift placed a restraining hand on the old bots shoulder.
"You mean to tell me," Kup snarled, "that scrap of an organic protoform, took out one of the most feared Decpticon leaders in the fleet?"
"That, and his friends," Drift replied with a smile, "and to top it off, their medic fixed up my leg while they were at it." Kup had knelt down to examine the organic closer. The little one seemed utterly fearless in the big bot's presence and began to produce a stream of chatter. The old soldier let out a grunt and stood erect.
"Any chance we can get a translation on what they're saying? I'd really like to know where they learned to fight con's and heal bots." Drift shook his head in reply.
"Whatever that virus did to us is still in effect. Before they blew his head off though, Deadfire did confirm that the virus was deliberately dispersed on us, and it can be remotely activated." Drift winced at the remembered pain and proceeded to describe the engagement to the Autobot commander. While Kup listened the rest of the organics slipped out of the shadows. A few kept up a defensive perimeter, only visible as the shimmers outlined occasionally against the starry sky. The rest moved fearlessly up to the Autobots and began chattering away at them. Clearly they were expecting the bots to understand them eventually. Finally Kup stomped one massive foot. Autobots and organics turned their attention toward the old soldier. He gestured at the fallen Decpticon.
"Even if their leader is offline the cons still outnumber us on this rock. Our ship is completely destroyed. This scrapping virus has left us without the ability to radio even short distances, and eliminated our ability to translate other languages. Half of us are injured, the other half are low on energon. If any of you bots has a suggestion of a plan I'm listening." Springer stepped forward and stated,
"The cons have a functioning ship that's full of medical supplies, energon, and everything we need to get Preceptor back on his feet. I say we storm their ship before they get the bright idea to leave us here to rust." Kup nodded.
"Solid idea Springer, but they still outnumber and outgun us. We'll call that plan "B" for now. Drift? Drift!" Kup snapped at the warrior who was staring intently at the organics' medic.
"I think they understand us," the red and white Autobot murmured.
"What?" demanded Kup.
"Their medic at least was following the conversation. I'm certain of it," Drift stated firmly. "We might not be able to understand them but they can understand us." Kup frowned and crouched down in front of the organic medic and growled as gently as the old soldier could,
"Hey organic, nod your head if you understand me." The little creature bobbed its head up and down eagerly. Kup grunted in surprise.
"Well, how about that. Don't see how that helps us though." The organic commander suddenly became agitated. It pointed off to the east eagerly.
"What's East?" Kup demanded. The creature reached down and sketched a small diagram in the sand. Drift flicked on a hand light and aimed it at the sketch.
"A ship," Kup muttered. "Cybertronian, looks Decpticon, but they put our badge on it, and it looks damaged." He glanced intently at the cluster of organics at his feet then up at Drift.
"Can they be trusted?" In reply Drift gestured to the cooling body of Deadfire in the moonlight and then at his own repaired limb.
"I think their actions speak for themselves."
Kup nodded slowly and addressed his troops. "The cons won't be going anywhere in a hurry with Deadfire offline. The usual infighting while they choose a new leader will keep them on this planet for at least a few cycles. We'll use that time to see if this new ship is any good. Springer, Topspin. You go back to our camp. Get Preceptor and Blurr and rendezvous with us at that clearing Blurr scouted about a quarter-cycle Northeast of here. Hot Rod, take point, keep your optics peeled for traps." Kup cast a wary glance at the diminutive organic at his feet, "Remember, they might be real small. Twintwist, you have rearguard. Prowl and Piston, flanks." Each Autobot slipped off to their assigned task. Drift and Kup watched as the organics' commander relayed a similar set of orders to its troops, who then set off northeast.