The Diego Diaries: Shootout (dd7 192)
=0=Nova Cronum at the same time
The Seekers came in again and stitched the slag out of the ships on the ground. Fires were blazing, ammunition was beginning to explode and wounded were crawling, falling and running out of the ships which were highly damaged. As they did, a cruiser turned its forward guns toward the Autobots fighting with Prime and began to fire.
"EVERYONE! FIND COVER!" Prime said as he glanced around the battlefield. There were mechs and a couple of femmes strewn around from the battleships which were burning furiously. His mechs were falling back shooting at they went. Some of them were half carrying a couple of their comrades as they did. Prime rolled over the ground toward a building that looked sturdier than the crates he was crouching behind. As he did the cruiser opened up on everyone including its own battleships.
The chaos was so sensory overriding that sound seemed to zero down to a speck. It often happened this way and Prime knew how to function through it anyway. All of them did. Things seemed to take forever, the moments stretching out in the relativity of fear and gunfire. Sound distorted, everyone seemed to run in slow motion just like in films but he knew it was happening in real time, swiftly and deadly.
He crawled under a shower of plasma bolts to the building and pressed himself down. Overhead, Seekers came in again and as they did several flew up out of the cruiser and began to engage his forces. The fire and noise in this small space was almost too astonishing to describe. The last time he could remember something so fierce Iacon was falling. He glanced around to see who he could see as more Seekers thundered over. As he did he saw two disconcerting things.
Two of the enemy Seekers fell out of the sky to crash hard on the ground and Ironhide was laying face down nearby seeping energon. Without a thought to himself he began to crawl to the big mech to drag him out of the gunfire. In the distance he could see Ironhide's elders shooting everything that moved. He didn't dare call to them given the space they would have to cross and he knew they would.
He would, too.
Gripping Ironhide's servo, he began to pull him back slowly and steadily to the building once more. As he did the cruiser exploded in a thrashing, exoskeleton piercing ball of fire and thunder. Bits of tarmac and ship began to rain downward onto him as he tugged and tugged. Then he looked up to see Sun over him. He gripped Ironhide and without a thought to his own condition, Sun began to cart Ironhide away. He rounded the corner of the building, then came back to grab Prime. Hurrying away half carrying Prime, he rounded the corner ahead of fire.
He bent down after releasing Prime to check on his boy. Ironhide was perforated and groggy but he didn't look dead. That was enough for both of them. They both stood up, then yelled out together. "MEDIC!"
=0=Homeland
Ratchet got the call, then sprinted for the door. Prowl had asked him to come …
:Prowl to Ratchet:
:Ratchet here:
:Come to the base, Ratchet. Ironhide got ventilated. I don't think its too bad but Sun and the others want you there:
:On my way: He looked at the others. "I have to go to Nova Cronum. Its a shit show." Then he ran for the door and a bridge jump away from Cybertron.
Paragon and the others watched him go, then looked at Blackjack. He was in a call so they waited.
"Frag," Blackjack said at last. "Ironhide didn't duck fast enough. Sun got him out of the fire storm."
Hardie looked solemn as he considered their dilemma. "Hard Drive to Turbine."
It took a moment but Turbine replied over the intercom. :Turbine, Hardie. We're in a fire fight:
"I know. I was told that infant got shot." Hardie regretted saying it the moment he did.
:WHAT!? Where is he? How is he?: Turbine replied.
"Ratchet is on the way. I'm sending Blackjack for a sit-rep, then I need him back. We're going to have a problem here shortly. Where is Raptor?" he asked.
It was silent a moment, then Turbine was back. "I see them all. Ratchet ran past me. He must be going to see about Ironhide. What's the situation, Hardie?:
"Trouble is brewing. Let me know, Turbine, how he is. Don't let anyone get hurt," Hardie said.
:On it: Turbine said. :The same goes for you. We're coming when we finish this slag:
Hardie turned to Blackjack. "Go see about him, then come back. Hurry."
Blackjack hesitated, then nodded. He headed out at a jog to the door and was gone. It was silent a moment, then everyone turned back to the job at hand, trying to read a situation far away.
=0=Ratchet
He ran through the bridge, hurried to the security ring that surrounded the airfield, jumped the barriers, then hoofed it to the bright burning lights and loud booms nearby. As he did a flight of Seekers screamed low overhead as they flew at the ships again.
Lights from burning fuel and ships flickered demonically all around him as he rushed toward Ironhide's signal. It was deja vu all over again, warring on his home world against the Side That Wouldn't Die. He saw Ironhide laying on the ground with Sun kneeling over him. He ran for them and slid to a halt. His sensors slammed in and he read the data.
Sun looked horrendous as he watched Ratchet. "How is he?"
"SLOW! HE'S SLAGGING SLOW! WE HAD THIS CONVERSATION ALREADY!" Ratchet said as he began to plug three holes. "That being said, he's going to be alright."
Sun nearly deflated like a balloon when a shadow blotted out the light array behind them. They both looked up into the tense face of Blackjack. He knelt and took his son's servo. "How is he?"
"He's slow but going to be fine. I've seen him much worse and still fighting," Ratchet said as he worked. "He got a glancing blow on the helm and his bell is wrung. That's why he's off line. I set his recovery gear on it. He's going to the hospital for a few orns but he's alright, Blackjack. The few dings and wounds are minor."
Blackjack stared at Ratchet, then his son. "I told that boy he needed to be faster. He's pretty good for a sprint but slag on distance."
Ratchet snickered in spite of the emotional cascade that had greeted him at the call. "All of you are, I think. Good thing you're so handsome."
Sun stood, then squeezed Blackjack's shoulder. "I have to go. Fighting and all," he said with a relieved grin. "He's good?"
Ratchet nodded. "He is. Why the other night in the berth-" was as far as he got before Sun guffawed with relief, then ran forward into the fighting.
They both watched him go, then looked down at Ironhide.
"Little mech shoulda been faster," Blackjack said. "I always told him to work out."
Ratchet smirked slightly. "He's a chaos bringer. They don't mind their elders."
"No, they don't," Blackjack said. "Hospital, huh?"
Ratchet nodded. "Yep."
"He's a terrible patient. Always was." He rose slightly wearily. "Thanks, Ratchet. We'll bag this slag and go home again."
"We will," Ratchet said. "Should I tell the others or will you?"
"I will. You look like you have a night ahead of you," Blackjack said as he glanced around the corner at the full scale battle still going on. "Frag. I'm always in the wrong place at the wrong time." He looked down at his son, then Ratchet. "We'll be back."
"See ya then," Ratchet said as he watched the big mech reluctantly walk away, then run toward a ship and the bridge jump to the Ruins. "Frag, Ironhide. You can't do this again." He waited until a medic came, then followed the stretcher to the ambulance. He would be in the hospital wards of Phobos in minutes. Ratchet would go with him, finish the work, put Ironhide in healing stasis, then head back to Nova Cronum and the medical need there.
=0=Ops Center, Homeland
Blackjack walked back in toward the command table. As he did Hardie and Paragon glanced up to see him. "How is he? And the others?"
"It's a slagging shoot out, a melee. Ironhide has three wounds and a glancing blow to the helm. He's going to be alright. Ratchet has him. We better let the others know."
Hardie nodded. "I will." He composed a message, then sent it to everyone. When it was pinged in receipt, he turned to his grandson. "What's the sit-rep at Nova Cronum?"
"Two battleships and a cruiser are burning like napalm on the ground. There's dead 'Cons everywhere and a few of ours are hurt. Seekers were falling out of the sky when I was there," Blackjack said. "Prime has it in servo. Sun pulled Ironhide off the battlefield. He and the others are engaged."
Hardie nodded as he waited for the last pings of receipt to come back.
=0=At the battle at Nova Cronum
Turbine was giving cover fire to a number of Wreckers who were heading toward the cruiser to enter in a broken portion of the hull. He received the text and read it. 'Everyone, Ironhide was shot but he's going to be alright. Ratchet is there and we were told its going to be okay. Sun got him out of the line of fire and he's going to be in the hospital for a couple of orns. All will be well. -H'
Turbine felt a mountain lift off his shoulders at the news. He would keep firing to pin down several diehards while the Wreckers flanked them. They would surrender when the fire was nearly up to their knees and not a second later.
=0=Prime
He was shooting at a number of Seekers who were pinned down by a pile of wreckage that was once a runabout. They had no way to go and were surrounded with half of those firing at them infuriated Autobot Seekers. He ducked some shots, then sent them a message …
:Seekers, this is Optimus Prime. Surrender or die. You have no where to go:
A message pinged back. :Frag you, Autobot:
:Prime to Rainmaker and Starscream:
They answered, then listened. It would be then that Rainmaker, the Great Elder of Seekerkin would join in the dance. He would come with his sons and he would do so with fury in his optics.
=0=Homeland
Blackjack watched the data as the group in Ops Center waited tensely. The number of voices they were getting, albeit unclear and slightly static-filled was growing. He walked to the table, then sat. "You know, Appa, it wasn't our idea to have the infant be a soldier."
"It wasn't my idea to have Raptor be one," Hardie said quietly. "I don't want war to be the only life our infants have. I will tell you now … the babies will never be soldiers. I don't care if they want it more than anything. They will never know combat."
Blackjack nodded. "Alie and I have already had that conversation about Scout."
Hardie glanced at him. "They will never know this kind of life. I have spoken, Blackjack."
"I know, Appa. So have I," Blackjack said with feeling.
=0=Airfield
The tide was turning, mechs and femmes were surrendering and the search for Vice was on. The ships were burning and the intensity of the heat was melting the tarmac beneath them. Munitions were exploding on the ships as the fire teams directed arcing plumes of fire suppressant toward the ships they could reach from what shelter there was left. The last thing they wanted to happen was fuel to explode.
Of course, it would.
=0=In orbit over Cybertron
Ships waited in their orbits for word to land. The radio traffic was oddly silent. The usual chatter was missing and the captains were getting nervous. Then a small fast ship flew past heading for the north of Cybertron. The captain of a cruiser waiting to land glanced at it through the forward view port as it flew past. Then he sat up straight in his chair.
The small vessel had an Autobrand on its side.
=0=TBC 1-26-2020 2-6-2020