Transfer
5
Comfort.
The sense of not being alone.
New Master was recharging a few meters away, his frame motionless on the soft organic material. His frame was so brilliant, so beautiful. Odd, how prominent his spike cover was, and even more so, how his panels were also drawing attention to his valve cover. Who, in this horrible war, would design such charming frames?
New Master had such gorgeous servos. And stabilizers. He had scratches there, too, and that long scar looked like a reminder of some horrible crash from vorns ago.
New Master also had a same-frame companion, one currently holding him in his embrace. Was this acceptable? Most certainly, as New Master was here, and would have ordered him out of that comfortable and warm snuggle, if he didn't approve of somebody else pinning down his property.
But wait! New Master was moving! He was making sounds! Weak, miserable sounds! Should he help? Should he wake New Master from the nightmare?
Oh. No need. Master's Brother was moving, slowly releasing him from that warm hold, waking New Master. Sitting down next to New Master, holding New Master by the hand. Talking to New Master in a subtle, barely detectable way that, somehow, still felt familiar.
New Master looked up, his gaze briefly falling on him.
Master's Brother returned and said something, so quiet that his audials, tuned for the volume of Mas—Of Past Master's bellowing, could not pick anything up. Master's Brother pulled him close again, of which New Master clearly approved.
Master's Brother's warm frame pressing against his back, his air outlets breathing hot air into vorns-old damages and wounds. Fingers touched his ruptured tires, a servo pressed under his neck, supporting his head like a pillow. Beautiful silver stabilizers tangled around his cold legs, and the spike cover, similarly prominent like New Master's, pressed against him just enough to be recognizable.
New Master nodded in approval of this, and went back into recharge.
His new property kept awake, to be there and wake Master's Brother in case of another nightmare.
6
The white and silver twins woke slowly, but in sync. Some sort of communication crossed between them before their first movements, but they were careful not to wake their new companion.
"How do you feel, mech?" Shine greeted him when he noticed the newcomer was up anyway. "I see you can move fine. That storm yesterday must have covered the bridge, so we will need to dig it out. Do you think you can help us with that?"
Enthusiastic nod.
"Great. Come!"
"Too bad you can't tell us what your name is," Leader murmured. "I'll get you to Flatline. He's a bit on the crazy side, but he can do miracles to wounded frames…"
"...And he's our only medic at this time, and mind you, aligned medics are not much better," Shine finished the sentence. "Decepticons are either sadistic or self-centered, and Autobots are paranoid after the defeat. Trust Leader: Flatline is the best choice."
The surface was glowing brilliantly in the fresh snow. The field was almost perfectly horizontal, but both chrome mechs paid great attention to where they stepped. When their new companion failed to follow in their footsteps, he immediately sank in a pit similar to what had trapped his former owner the day before. Leader caught him, and pulled him out without a single reprimand.
Then came the digging.
After that, came a surprise.
A fully functional space bridge was hidden in the deep snow, large enough for a small ship to fit through. The engines and fuel tanks were transferred one after the other, the camp's furniture was also teleported, and then the three mechs peeled the azergo fur from the ice-walls, rolled it up, and threw it into the bridge as well.
"In short, we found everything here, except for Shockwave or Monstructor," Leader grimaced. "I hate to say it, but someone will have to come back someday."
Then the spacebridge swallowed the three of them.