Infected

Prologue

Gun fire roared in my audios. Smoke hung heavy in the crimson air. The fire behind us wasn't helping the pressure that already suffocated my vents. The thundering shake of the con's new canon shook the battlefield. Pitiful. The autobots had barely anything to level our chances of victory, or even survival. And yet Megatron just had to use his new toy, if not to end the war, then to spite and play with us. Rolling the boulder off my crushed hip joint I groan. I needed a field medic. But if I called out there's no telling if one could get to me before a con did. Calling out for life support could do the exact opposite if I'm not careful. Grabbing the earth tree above me I hoist myself up onto my peds. There was no way I could run in to help fight. Not with my leg about to fall off. The seekers rocketed over the charred ground, making my metal vibrate.

I doubted the Autobots would win this battle... Ped steps behind the trees pulled me out of my trance. Yet again, I was remind that the battlefield is no place for daydreams. The tall figure of Motormaster loomed into my vision. If he was here the other stuntacons weren't all that far off. Baring my denta, I pull my backup blaster and aim. His optics shifted down to me. It wasn't helping that he was taller than most. Taller than Optimus. A sly grin was created over his faceplate. I must be a funny sight. A tiny Autobot with a smaller than preferred blaster, who could barely stand on their own peds. A funny sight indeed. His scoff made me want to swallow any confidence I might have had. Wasn't helping that the canon fire was getting closer. Decepticon line was closing in... Firing once I hit the massive titians shoulder. Bad call... He looked at the black mark and turn his glare to me. Definitely a bad call.

I roll over to the side as his clawed servo comes raking over my helm. Firing another shot, I managed to shove myself behind the tree line. The ground around me shook from the massive canons constant fire. I could only hope I was one of the few stuck so far from the main Autobot line. Though, maybe spread out like I am was the safer option. My daze was interrupted when my frame was sent soaring. Backstrut crookedly slamming into the exposed underground rocks, I cry out. Cold shivers shoot down my leg. The bad one. Rumbling pedsteps stalked over as I roll onto my chassis. Ow... Wind swept from under me. Again? What was I? A humans frisbee? His optics gleamed at the idea of an Autobot stuck flailing in his claws. I should have stayed with my commander... An engine to my left attracted my optics. Backup. And thank Primus not for Motormaster. My platoon mate transformed and kicked the con away from us, with me landing on the torn up ground.

"Nasty gash you got there." My friend observed helping me up.

"Shut up and let's get to the boss." I grunt hobbling along.

Duck and walk. By now it's "muscle memory" for us soldiers. Weave and fire. It's a common routine for field medics, and those of us trying to hunt for shelter. Missiles whistled over the two of us. The seekers decided to come back for round two. It felt like it took years to reach the main group. It always did. Though in reality it probably only took a few minutes. Escorted onto a cot, I was rushed off of the scene. The final retreat followed shorty after. The battle was definitely one of my fractions darkest. 100 Autobots went into battle, only 38 of us walked back out. The intel my friends worked so hard for had been lost in the crossfire. We would have to send in the Wreckers to both retrieve the valuable information, and destroy the cons new toy of death.

Leaning back against the headquarters wall I finally let my optics offline, recharge following shortly after.