These Paths We Tread (Autobot x OC)

LXVII. The Day the World Went Away Part III

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"Blaster, now!" Smokescreen shouted as he rolled out of the way of Shockwave's blast.

 The small, red-armored Autobot in question leaped forward and, spreading his arms, released a large burst of sound. The wave flung any debris in the way toward the one-optic 'Con as such incredibly speed it looked as though he would take the full brunt of it. However, that hope failed when the worm-like beast suddenly slapped down in front of its master. The sound wave crashed against it, only managing to knock loose a small layer of armor and wires. The beast's maw turned to Blaster then, aiming to clamp itself around him, but was denied as two curved blades hooked into its jawline. Mirage, fingers wrapped tightly around the other end of the lines, pulled with all his might, and the Driller was tugged just enough so that it rammed its head into the ground beside Blaster rather than devouring him. The smaller Autobot quickly dashed away before the beast could move or its master could strike him.

"Tsk. You Autobots are quite infuriating," Shockwave hummed as he recharged his weapon. This time he aimed for Wheeljack, whom yelped as he leaped out of the way. "So very infuriating."

—This isn't working, Smokescreen! We can't even get close to him and our shots aren't working!— Hound barked from his comm. link as he fired off a missile, which struck the Driller's head. This blow, at last, managed to create a decent sized dent, but it also enraged the beast, which turned its optic-less face upon him. Hound silently cursed as he conjured a hologram and vanished elsewhere. It dissipated the moment the beast struck it.

—So I noticed!— the Autobot tactician and de-facto leader of the moment snapped, rolling behind a broken slab. His optics lingered towards the tallest pile of rubble where, hopefully, one of their own should almost be ready. —Blue, where you at, mech? We kind of need some precision firing here!—

—Sorry! I'm almost there! It's not easy keeping stable up here!— the young mech called back, and Smokescreen vented, knowing they would have to make do for now. It had been difficult enough attempting to keep their sniper hidden by distracting the beast and Shockwave. Bluestreak was their best bet to get to the 'Con—his sniping abilities were unmatched save for maybe Perceptor who was still out in space somewhere— and they needed a blast that the beast and Decepticon couldn't detect in time. That meant he needed a good, higher-up hiding spot, and that rubble was the only one that could give the Autobot just that. Of course, that meant the rest of them were stuck fending off the Driller and Shockwave on their own, and each passing klik was one mistake closer to being crushed or having their bodies blown to bits.

To make matters worse, Hound had informed him not so long ago that the humans had still not taken off. Granted, that was because of some good news—more survivors had been found and were being loaded. If only they could move faster! Regardless, the rest of the Autobots were still out of luck. They had no way off the slagging island, which meant their survival depended on either Shockwave dying or leaving. Considering their situation, leaving was probably their best bet seeing as the 'Con wasn't going down so easily.

—Ratchet, how is Warpath doing? Is he functional?— Smokescreen inquired quickly as he raced from his cover, firing some paralyzing shot at the Driller, which served to make it groan and thrash. It's master, on the other hand, regarded him coolly and meant to fire upon him, but was stopped by a timely shot from Wheeljack, which burst upon impact. Unfortunately, that didn't cause much more than bits of armor flying off and for the mech to stagger. It was enough, however, to give the tactician time to hurry to a new cover.

—You bet your slaggin' aft I'm functional, boom!— the maroon-armored Autobot laughed over the comm. link and, as if on cue, appeared from where Ratchet had hidden in the rubble. The Autobot medic appeared as well, hurrying off to avoid making them both a sweet target. Warpath, as expected, wasted no time getting back into the fray despite the fact he had taken a full hit to his abdomen. He was a hardy mech, though, and Ratchet worked well under pressure; the warmonger of an Autobot quickly fired a round from his tank-formed chest without so much as a flinch despite the wound. The blow struck the Driller head on, eliciting a guttural shriek and forcing it to fall to the ground. It was a short victory, though, as the beast began to move as it slowly recovered.