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wyntir_knightTitle: Between a rock and a hard place
Fandom: Transformers: G1
Characters: Smokescreen, Springer, Inferno, Roadblock, Whirl
Word Count: 2966
Rating: T (for violence, and language)
Summary: Smokescreen’s first battle ends in disaster and he finds himself in the hands of the Wreckers.
Author's Notes: Just playing around with some randomly cracky notions.
Smokescreen slammed through the door of the bunker, spinning as he did and coming up with his gun brandished at the entrance just waiting for his pursuers to follow him. There was little his limited weaponry could do to stop a determined enemy, but they might buy him the room he'd need to get somewhere safe. After a long moment he allowed himself to relax. The external guns must have gotten the Cons before they were able to get to the door. The chances of them being patient enough to be setting up a trap for him were slim. Maybe a twenty three per cent chance that they were trying anything. It was a good enough gamble to take a chance on.
He lowered his gun and was starting to relax when a massive hand descended upon his shoulder.
A very un-heroic cry exploded from him as he was bodily lifted off the ground and shaken slightly.
"So ... what do we do with it?" a deep, very large voice said from behind him.
"Uh, put me down and let me go?" Smokescreen said with his most charismatic smile, attempting desperately not to give into the fear and the near certain knowledge that he was completely and thoroughly fragged beyond all survival.
A large green and orange mech came into his line of sight and shut the door, barring it with deliberate precision. "Yeah, I'm not so sure that's gonna happen. Not 'til you tell us who you are and what in the pit you're doing here."
Smokescreen looked around as best as he could, desperately looking for any sign that these were Autobots. Finally his optics landed on the partially obscured Autobrand in the middle of the green one's chest. At least he thought it might be an Autobrand. Maybe. He took another gamble.
"I'm just looking for shelter," he said in a rush. "The battlefield's a mess and I couldn't stay out there. Not if I wanted to survive the night."
"So, what? You're a coward? Running from the field?" the voice behind him growled, shaking him again.
This time Smokescreen managed to brace himself against a surprised squeak of fear. "No, just reevaluating my position. ... You know, it'd be a pit of a lot easier if my feet were on the ground. I tend to think better that way. Generally."
"Yeah, we we'd all like things we can't get," the green and orange mech said casually.
As if that was a cue, Smokescreen found himself tossed into a large chair and was rapidly secured to it. Steeling himself, he took the opportunity to look around the space, examining everyone and everything in hopes of finding something to get him out of this. He'd been in worse situations before and he'd get out of this one just like he got out of all the other ones. Okay, maybe not worse situations, but the other ones were still quite bad.
The bunker was large but not massive. It looked like it might have been a communications outpost at one point, judging by the broken and scattered equipment around. He also noticed the occupants for the first time, a testament to just how petrified he had been when he had broken in here. Under any other circumstances he would have noticed the four heavily armed mechs in the room as he entered. Instead he had been caught flat footed and he could only curse himself for it. It was not the way to live a long and healthy life. Of course, it seemed that joining the Autobots in the first place was not the way to a long life either.
The green and orange mech came up and crouched before him, looking him in the optics for a long time as if assessing him. Smokescreen found himself lost in those glowing blue optics and never noticed when his vents hitched slightly. The mech in front of him was handsome and rugged, with a strange combination of determination, humour, and sadness written both in his face and optics. The assessment continued for what felt like forever and Smokescreen found it hard to keep from squirming under the intense gaze.
“I've never seen a Praxian among the Decepticons,” the mech said finally, breaking the silence.
He reached out once pale hand and Smokescreen couldn't help the flinch as the other mech touched his chest and began to wipe off the grime of battle to reveal the white Autobot symbol branded into the red finish of his chest.
“So he's a Bot,” the mech orange and brown mech said.
“Doesn't really mean anything,” one of the other mechs said, this one a petrifying looking blue hover-flyer whose entire head seemed to consist of one massive yellow optic. “Just 'cause he's an Autobot doesn't mean he's actually an Autobot. I mean, it looks like he was deserting just when he came in here.”
“Or he’s a scared newbie.” This came from a large red and black mech who was leaning against the far wall with a casual sort of nonchalance.
“Either way, I’m not about to jump to conclusions about him,” the green mech said as he stood up and looked down as Smokescreen. “All right kid, you told us why you’re here but you didn’t answer the other question.”
“Other question?” Smokescreen asked, his tone nothing but innocent curiosity. “What other question?”
The green mech smiled but there was nothing pleasant about the gesture.
“Who are you and why shouldn’t we kill you and toss you back out there? Not necessarily in that order,” the mech said carefully.
“Well you could kill me and throw me out there, or vice versa, but then you’d really be shooting yourself in the proverbial foot. I mean I could be really useful to you,” Smokescreen said with his best salesman’s smile.
The green mech matched Smokescreen’s smile but there was a cruel edge to it and the blue mech started to chuckle evilly.
“Oh this should be fun,” the blue mech said, ironic humour written in every word. “Go on. Tell us how exactly you can help us”
The other mechs looked at the blue one and Smokescreen felt an increased tension in the room. It was something that he was sure he could take advantage of. Assuming he survived long enough.
“Well, I have a certain set of skills that could be very useful to mechs such as yourselves,” Smokescreen said. “I can help you out in a whole lot of ways.” He adjusted his tone carefully so that they could interpret his words however they liked. It was possible he’d be in for something unpleasant, but if it let him survive he’d do what was needed.
As he spoke, Smokescreen casually work at the lock, doing what he could to get the binders off of his wrists. It had been a long time since he'd had to pick a lock like this, but it was just like transforming. You never forgot how to do it.
“Yup,” the massive orange and brown mech said with a grunt. “Definitely a coward.”
“Okay, this is clearly not getting us anywhere,” the blue mech said. He stepped forward and pulled his gun in one smooth movement. “He’s not going to answer the question and he’s wasting our time.”
Smokescreen flinched and tried to pull back from the gun that was now pressed up against his head.
“Wait wait wait wait! Smokescreen! My name is Smokescreen!” he yelled in a tumble of words.
“Too late,” the mech sneered.
“Whirl! Stop it!” the green mech ordered, grabbing the gun away as he did.
“You are seriously no fun, Springer,” Whirl said.
Smokescreen couldn’t be sure, but it looked like the cyclopsian mech was glaring at Springer. Though how that was possible for a mech with no face was a mystery to Smokescreen.
Springer turned back to Smokescreen and crouched down to look him in the face. “Okay kid. So what are you doing here? And no more of that conning slag.”
Smokescreen looked back at Springer and then around the room, gauging his chances of escape before finally turning back to Springer.
“I’d feel more comfortable answering your questions if I wasn’t tied to a chair,” he said pointedly.
“We still have no reason to trust you,” the orange mech said.
“Come on!” Smokescreen argued. “Like I’d be tied to a chair if I was any kind of threat to you! Like I would have even gotten captured in the first place!” In his excitement he forgot that he was supposed to still be tied to the chair and he shifted violently allowing the cuffs to fall to the ground. “… slag …”
The red mech against the wall chuckled softly. “I like this kid, Springer.”
Smokescreen’s entire body vibrated with barely controlled tension as he fought the overpowering urge to bolt. After all, it wasn’t as if he had anywhere to go.
“… uhm … I can explain?” he said with a weak smile.
The red mech threw his head back and laughed, a loud and booming sound that filled the space.
“I definitely like this kid!” he said, his laughter fading to chuckles.
Springer shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, but he didn’t quite manage to hide the smile.
“Okay, let’s try this again,” he said after a moment. “You’re in a Wrecker controlled bunker, kid. Now you want to tell us what’s going on out there and what sent you in here?”
Smokescreen’s optics widened and paled for an instant at the mention of the Wreckers before he managed to school his reaction.
“You want a situation report?” he asked carefully. “You were just threatening to kill me and now you want a sit-rep?”
The red mech shrugged. “We’re Wreckers. It’s kind of par for the course. I’m Inferno, by the way. Springer and Whirl kind of introduced themselves already, and that’s Roadbuster,” he said, motioning to the massive mech. “Now that you know us, that make it easier for you to talk to us?”
Whirl rolled his optic and leaned back against the wall, but remained silent and Roadbuster growled slightly before moving to the door of the bunker.
“Uhm, okay,” Smokescreen said, looking around at the other mechs and finally settling on Springer. He could do this. After all, they were just mechs, right? Dangerous, frightening, killer mechs. “Last I saw the battle looked pretty much lost out there. Which I guess you know since you’re here. Uhm, I was involved in diversions so I didn’t see a lot of it, but I think everyone out there’s either dead or captured. I never got a fall back call.”
“We need more details than that,” Springer said.
“I don’t have any more details,” Smokescreen replied. “This is my first fight and I was a little busy trying to avoid getting killed.”
“Boy did you pick the wrong battle to start at,” Whirl snorted derisively.
“Whirl.” Springer’s tone was warning. “First battle? Well I still need you to remember what you can because I’d rather not go out there blind.”
Roadbuster snorted derisively and Springer glared at him. The effect was lost when the green mech’s face split in a grin. “Just because I will go out there blind doesn’t mean that I particularly want to.”
Smokescreen was starting to see why these mechs were considered to be insane. It was because they were and in his experience, the best way to deal with psychos was to agree with them until you could escape.
“I was on the left flank of the field offering cover. Our orders were to take the Klithian outpost by any means necessary, but I guess they knew we were coming because it was a slaughter out there.” Smokescreen’s optics went pale and his normally stoic doors shivered slightly as he tried to control his emotions.
Springer recognized the look as did all the Wreckers. It was only a matter of time before the kid snapped and they wouldn’t anything more out of him.
“Okay, kid, we need you to focus,” he said, taking Smokescreen’s chin in hand and making the Praxian look at him. “I need you to tell us what drove you in here. Who you were running from and how they were armed.”
Smokescreen hardened and pulled away from Springer, standing as he did. “I’ve told you everything I’m willing to. I may be new at this, but I’m not naïve. The second I tell you what I know, you throw me back out there. But I am willing to make a deal.”
Springer chuckled as he and Whirl closed in on Smokescreen. There was nothing promising in the sound and it took all of Smokescreen’s courage to stand his ground. Unfortunately his doors had a mind of their own and they gave away his every emotion. Whirl reached out his hand and touched one door, his eye brightening slightly and his rotors fluttering in amusement as Smokescreen reacted.
“You’re still not in a position to make demands, kid,” Springer said. “But it’s cute that you’re still trying. Real cute.”
Without ever breaking optic contact he reached up to remove the grime from his own chest to reveal a blue insignia that was similar to an Autobrand.
“We are the Wreckers, we are Autobots, and we’re not going to throw you out there once you’ve answered our questions,” Springer said calmly. “We might recruit you to give us a hand, but we’re not going to throw you out there. Honest.”
Smokescreen glared back at Springer gauging the mech carefully. He could do this. It had been a while since he’d relied on his ability to read mechs, but just like picking the locks, it was something one didn’t forget. He fell back on instinct and read the mech, seeing honesty there as well as a definite and obvious danger there as well.
“Fine.” Smokescreen pulled away from Whirl. “I was on the left flank, just as I said. Honestly I didn’t see a whole lot. Comes with the territory of providing the cover.” He shrugged slightly. “I was blindsided by something and next thing I knew I was alone on the field. Everyone’s either dead or captured and I was surrounded by Cons. I bolted and this was the first place I could find to hide in.”
“And weaponry?” Inferno asked.
“I was a little busy running for my life,” Smokescreen said, trying to keep from snapping. “But, uhm, energy weapons mostly, I guess. There were a few explosions that might have been from guide-by-wire missiles, and I think I might have detected a flamethrower or two.” The Praxian paused and brought his hands up to his face, scrubbing at his faceplates wearily as he tried to recall more. “There were some high volume line-of-sight missiles coming in from the west, tight cluster laser fire from the south east, and I heard what sounded like the tail end of close quarters combat from the south west.”
Inferno’s optics widened slightly as Smokescreen recalled more and more about the battle. The Praxian continued to describe the battlefield with more confidence as he accessed more memories and provided the Wreckers with a more thorough description of the field and the opponents. They were the words of a tactician rather than a scared newbie.
“Good job, kid,” Inferno said. “So we going out there and take the outpost or not?”
“Only four of us? It’s going to be a pit of a fight,” Springer said, but there was a hint of amusement there as well as cunning there as he was trying to figure out the logistics of the coming battle. “We’ll need some cover,” he said, looking directly at Smokescreen.
“Oh no. No no no,” the Praxian said, shaking his head. “See I actually have a sense of self preservation.”
“Yeah, but that’s boring,” Inferno said, clapping an arm around Smokescreen’s shoulder. “And, really, you only live once, right? So, why worry about a little thing like-”
“Inferno,” Springer said warningly then he turned back to Smokescreen. “And you need to realize that this isn’t really a request. You’re being recruited, kid. You lay down some cover while we go out there and then take over the bunker’s guns. They’re automated now, but I’d feel a lot better if we had a real brain running them.”
“So I don’t need to actually go out there again?” Smokescreen asked.
“Nope,” Springer assured him.
“Besides,” Whirl said, his rotors fluttering in amusement. “I’m pretty sure that there’s a greater chance of the bunker getting destroyed. But by all means, stay here.”
Inferno and Roadbuster chuckled at that and the large red mech squeezed Smokescreen against his side amicably. “Don’t worry about it kid. We’re taking the risks here. You just do your part and it’ll all work out one way or another.”
“You’re awfully optimistic,” Smokescreen said uncertainly, desperately trying to come up with a way to get out of this situation.
“Hey, sometimes all we have is optimism, right?” Inferno said with a shrug.
He let Smokescreen go and took a place at the door with the other Wreckers following him.
“Okay, kid,” Springer said. “As soon as the doors open, you lay down some cover for us and then get up to the gun on the roof. I’m counting on you to have our backs until the other Wreckers get here. You think you can do that?”
“Do I have a choice?” Smokescreen asked.
“I’m sure that if you did you would have come up with it already, Smokey. Now let’s get this thing going.”
And with that Smokescreen had his first experience with the Wreckers and, Primus but he hoped it would be his last.
Fandom: Transformers: G1
Characters: Smokescreen, Springer, Inferno, Roadblock, Whirl
Word Count: 2966
Rating: T (for violence, and language)
Summary: Smokescreen’s first battle ends in disaster and he finds himself in the hands of the Wreckers.
Author's Notes: Just playing around with some randomly cracky notions.
Smokescreen slammed through the door of the bunker, spinning as he did and coming up with his gun brandished at the entrance just waiting for his pursuers to follow him. There was little his limited weaponry could do to stop a determined enemy, but they might buy him the room he'd need to get somewhere safe. After a long moment he allowed himself to relax. The external guns must have gotten the Cons before they were able to get to the door. The chances of them being patient enough to be setting up a trap for him were slim. Maybe a twenty three per cent chance that they were trying anything. It was a good enough gamble to take a chance on.
He lowered his gun and was starting to relax when a massive hand descended upon his shoulder.
A very un-heroic cry exploded from him as he was bodily lifted off the ground and shaken slightly.
"So ... what do we do with it?" a deep, very large voice said from behind him.
"Uh, put me down and let me go?" Smokescreen said with his most charismatic smile, attempting desperately not to give into the fear and the near certain knowledge that he was completely and thoroughly fragged beyond all survival.
A large green and orange mech came into his line of sight and shut the door, barring it with deliberate precision. "Yeah, I'm not so sure that's gonna happen. Not 'til you tell us who you are and what in the pit you're doing here."
Smokescreen looked around as best as he could, desperately looking for any sign that these were Autobots. Finally his optics landed on the partially obscured Autobrand in the middle of the green one's chest. At least he thought it might be an Autobrand. Maybe. He took another gamble.
"I'm just looking for shelter," he said in a rush. "The battlefield's a mess and I couldn't stay out there. Not if I wanted to survive the night."
"So, what? You're a coward? Running from the field?" the voice behind him growled, shaking him again.
This time Smokescreen managed to brace himself against a surprised squeak of fear. "No, just reevaluating my position. ... You know, it'd be a pit of a lot easier if my feet were on the ground. I tend to think better that way. Generally."
"Yeah, we we'd all like things we can't get," the green and orange mech said casually.
As if that was a cue, Smokescreen found himself tossed into a large chair and was rapidly secured to it. Steeling himself, he took the opportunity to look around the space, examining everyone and everything in hopes of finding something to get him out of this. He'd been in worse situations before and he'd get out of this one just like he got out of all the other ones. Okay, maybe not worse situations, but the other ones were still quite bad.
The bunker was large but not massive. It looked like it might have been a communications outpost at one point, judging by the broken and scattered equipment around. He also noticed the occupants for the first time, a testament to just how petrified he had been when he had broken in here. Under any other circumstances he would have noticed the four heavily armed mechs in the room as he entered. Instead he had been caught flat footed and he could only curse himself for it. It was not the way to live a long and healthy life. Of course, it seemed that joining the Autobots in the first place was not the way to a long life either.
The green and orange mech came up and crouched before him, looking him in the optics for a long time as if assessing him. Smokescreen found himself lost in those glowing blue optics and never noticed when his vents hitched slightly. The mech in front of him was handsome and rugged, with a strange combination of determination, humour, and sadness written both in his face and optics. The assessment continued for what felt like forever and Smokescreen found it hard to keep from squirming under the intense gaze.
“I've never seen a Praxian among the Decepticons,” the mech said finally, breaking the silence.
He reached out once pale hand and Smokescreen couldn't help the flinch as the other mech touched his chest and began to wipe off the grime of battle to reveal the white Autobot symbol branded into the red finish of his chest.
“So he's a Bot,” the mech orange and brown mech said.
“Doesn't really mean anything,” one of the other mechs said, this one a petrifying looking blue hover-flyer whose entire head seemed to consist of one massive yellow optic. “Just 'cause he's an Autobot doesn't mean he's actually an Autobot. I mean, it looks like he was deserting just when he came in here.”
“Or he’s a scared newbie.” This came from a large red and black mech who was leaning against the far wall with a casual sort of nonchalance.
“Either way, I’m not about to jump to conclusions about him,” the green mech said as he stood up and looked down as Smokescreen. “All right kid, you told us why you’re here but you didn’t answer the other question.”
“Other question?” Smokescreen asked, his tone nothing but innocent curiosity. “What other question?”
The green mech smiled but there was nothing pleasant about the gesture.
“Who are you and why shouldn’t we kill you and toss you back out there? Not necessarily in that order,” the mech said carefully.
“Well you could kill me and throw me out there, or vice versa, but then you’d really be shooting yourself in the proverbial foot. I mean I could be really useful to you,” Smokescreen said with his best salesman’s smile.
The green mech matched Smokescreen’s smile but there was a cruel edge to it and the blue mech started to chuckle evilly.
“Oh this should be fun,” the blue mech said, ironic humour written in every word. “Go on. Tell us how exactly you can help us”
The other mechs looked at the blue one and Smokescreen felt an increased tension in the room. It was something that he was sure he could take advantage of. Assuming he survived long enough.
“Well, I have a certain set of skills that could be very useful to mechs such as yourselves,” Smokescreen said. “I can help you out in a whole lot of ways.” He adjusted his tone carefully so that they could interpret his words however they liked. It was possible he’d be in for something unpleasant, but if it let him survive he’d do what was needed.
As he spoke, Smokescreen casually work at the lock, doing what he could to get the binders off of his wrists. It had been a long time since he'd had to pick a lock like this, but it was just like transforming. You never forgot how to do it.
“Yup,” the massive orange and brown mech said with a grunt. “Definitely a coward.”
“Okay, this is clearly not getting us anywhere,” the blue mech said. He stepped forward and pulled his gun in one smooth movement. “He’s not going to answer the question and he’s wasting our time.”
Smokescreen flinched and tried to pull back from the gun that was now pressed up against his head.
“Wait wait wait wait! Smokescreen! My name is Smokescreen!” he yelled in a tumble of words.
“Too late,” the mech sneered.
“Whirl! Stop it!” the green mech ordered, grabbing the gun away as he did.
“You are seriously no fun, Springer,” Whirl said.
Smokescreen couldn’t be sure, but it looked like the cyclopsian mech was glaring at Springer. Though how that was possible for a mech with no face was a mystery to Smokescreen.
Springer turned back to Smokescreen and crouched down to look him in the face. “Okay kid. So what are you doing here? And no more of that conning slag.”
Smokescreen looked back at Springer and then around the room, gauging his chances of escape before finally turning back to Springer.
“I’d feel more comfortable answering your questions if I wasn’t tied to a chair,” he said pointedly.
“We still have no reason to trust you,” the orange mech said.
“Come on!” Smokescreen argued. “Like I’d be tied to a chair if I was any kind of threat to you! Like I would have even gotten captured in the first place!” In his excitement he forgot that he was supposed to still be tied to the chair and he shifted violently allowing the cuffs to fall to the ground. “… slag …”
The red mech against the wall chuckled softly. “I like this kid, Springer.”
Smokescreen’s entire body vibrated with barely controlled tension as he fought the overpowering urge to bolt. After all, it wasn’t as if he had anywhere to go.
“… uhm … I can explain?” he said with a weak smile.
The red mech threw his head back and laughed, a loud and booming sound that filled the space.
“I definitely like this kid!” he said, his laughter fading to chuckles.
Springer shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, but he didn’t quite manage to hide the smile.
“Okay, let’s try this again,” he said after a moment. “You’re in a Wrecker controlled bunker, kid. Now you want to tell us what’s going on out there and what sent you in here?”
Smokescreen’s optics widened and paled for an instant at the mention of the Wreckers before he managed to school his reaction.
“You want a situation report?” he asked carefully. “You were just threatening to kill me and now you want a sit-rep?”
The red mech shrugged. “We’re Wreckers. It’s kind of par for the course. I’m Inferno, by the way. Springer and Whirl kind of introduced themselves already, and that’s Roadbuster,” he said, motioning to the massive mech. “Now that you know us, that make it easier for you to talk to us?”
Whirl rolled his optic and leaned back against the wall, but remained silent and Roadbuster growled slightly before moving to the door of the bunker.
“Uhm, okay,” Smokescreen said, looking around at the other mechs and finally settling on Springer. He could do this. After all, they were just mechs, right? Dangerous, frightening, killer mechs. “Last I saw the battle looked pretty much lost out there. Which I guess you know since you’re here. Uhm, I was involved in diversions so I didn’t see a lot of it, but I think everyone out there’s either dead or captured. I never got a fall back call.”
“We need more details than that,” Springer said.
“I don’t have any more details,” Smokescreen replied. “This is my first fight and I was a little busy trying to avoid getting killed.”
“Boy did you pick the wrong battle to start at,” Whirl snorted derisively.
“Whirl.” Springer’s tone was warning. “First battle? Well I still need you to remember what you can because I’d rather not go out there blind.”
Roadbuster snorted derisively and Springer glared at him. The effect was lost when the green mech’s face split in a grin. “Just because I will go out there blind doesn’t mean that I particularly want to.”
Smokescreen was starting to see why these mechs were considered to be insane. It was because they were and in his experience, the best way to deal with psychos was to agree with them until you could escape.
“I was on the left flank of the field offering cover. Our orders were to take the Klithian outpost by any means necessary, but I guess they knew we were coming because it was a slaughter out there.” Smokescreen’s optics went pale and his normally stoic doors shivered slightly as he tried to control his emotions.
Springer recognized the look as did all the Wreckers. It was only a matter of time before the kid snapped and they wouldn’t anything more out of him.
“Okay, kid, we need you to focus,” he said, taking Smokescreen’s chin in hand and making the Praxian look at him. “I need you to tell us what drove you in here. Who you were running from and how they were armed.”
Smokescreen hardened and pulled away from Springer, standing as he did. “I’ve told you everything I’m willing to. I may be new at this, but I’m not naïve. The second I tell you what I know, you throw me back out there. But I am willing to make a deal.”
Springer chuckled as he and Whirl closed in on Smokescreen. There was nothing promising in the sound and it took all of Smokescreen’s courage to stand his ground. Unfortunately his doors had a mind of their own and they gave away his every emotion. Whirl reached out his hand and touched one door, his eye brightening slightly and his rotors fluttering in amusement as Smokescreen reacted.
“You’re still not in a position to make demands, kid,” Springer said. “But it’s cute that you’re still trying. Real cute.”
Without ever breaking optic contact he reached up to remove the grime from his own chest to reveal a blue insignia that was similar to an Autobrand.
“We are the Wreckers, we are Autobots, and we’re not going to throw you out there once you’ve answered our questions,” Springer said calmly. “We might recruit you to give us a hand, but we’re not going to throw you out there. Honest.”
Smokescreen glared back at Springer gauging the mech carefully. He could do this. It had been a while since he’d relied on his ability to read mechs, but just like picking the locks, it was something one didn’t forget. He fell back on instinct and read the mech, seeing honesty there as well as a definite and obvious danger there as well.
“Fine.” Smokescreen pulled away from Whirl. “I was on the left flank, just as I said. Honestly I didn’t see a whole lot. Comes with the territory of providing the cover.” He shrugged slightly. “I was blindsided by something and next thing I knew I was alone on the field. Everyone’s either dead or captured and I was surrounded by Cons. I bolted and this was the first place I could find to hide in.”
“And weaponry?” Inferno asked.
“I was a little busy running for my life,” Smokescreen said, trying to keep from snapping. “But, uhm, energy weapons mostly, I guess. There were a few explosions that might have been from guide-by-wire missiles, and I think I might have detected a flamethrower or two.” The Praxian paused and brought his hands up to his face, scrubbing at his faceplates wearily as he tried to recall more. “There were some high volume line-of-sight missiles coming in from the west, tight cluster laser fire from the south east, and I heard what sounded like the tail end of close quarters combat from the south west.”
Inferno’s optics widened slightly as Smokescreen recalled more and more about the battle. The Praxian continued to describe the battlefield with more confidence as he accessed more memories and provided the Wreckers with a more thorough description of the field and the opponents. They were the words of a tactician rather than a scared newbie.
“Good job, kid,” Inferno said. “So we going out there and take the outpost or not?”
“Only four of us? It’s going to be a pit of a fight,” Springer said, but there was a hint of amusement there as well as cunning there as he was trying to figure out the logistics of the coming battle. “We’ll need some cover,” he said, looking directly at Smokescreen.
“Oh no. No no no,” the Praxian said, shaking his head. “See I actually have a sense of self preservation.”
“Yeah, but that’s boring,” Inferno said, clapping an arm around Smokescreen’s shoulder. “And, really, you only live once, right? So, why worry about a little thing like-”
“Inferno,” Springer said warningly then he turned back to Smokescreen. “And you need to realize that this isn’t really a request. You’re being recruited, kid. You lay down some cover while we go out there and then take over the bunker’s guns. They’re automated now, but I’d feel a lot better if we had a real brain running them.”
“So I don’t need to actually go out there again?” Smokescreen asked.
“Nope,” Springer assured him.
“Besides,” Whirl said, his rotors fluttering in amusement. “I’m pretty sure that there’s a greater chance of the bunker getting destroyed. But by all means, stay here.”
Inferno and Roadbuster chuckled at that and the large red mech squeezed Smokescreen against his side amicably. “Don’t worry about it kid. We’re taking the risks here. You just do your part and it’ll all work out one way or another.”
“You’re awfully optimistic,” Smokescreen said uncertainly, desperately trying to come up with a way to get out of this situation.
“Hey, sometimes all we have is optimism, right?” Inferno said with a shrug.
He let Smokescreen go and took a place at the door with the other Wreckers following him.
“Okay, kid,” Springer said. “As soon as the doors open, you lay down some cover for us and then get up to the gun on the roof. I’m counting on you to have our backs until the other Wreckers get here. You think you can do that?”
“Do I have a choice?” Smokescreen asked.
“I’m sure that if you did you would have come up with it already, Smokey. Now let’s get this thing going.”
And with that Smokescreen had his first experience with the Wreckers and, Primus but he hoped it would be his last.