Phoenix

Captain

The war had only begun a few months ago, and it was already tearing Cybertron apart. Andromeda knew in her spark that it wasn't going to end soon, but it was all the more reason to fight harder.

She was the fiercest Captain in the Autobot military at that time. Her battles were swift and effective, which was why she was placed in charge of the Escort Squad.

The Escorts were among the most valued soldiers, their duty being to protect the medics as they went into the heart of the battle to retrieve the wounded and fallen. A noble job, but Andromeda felt she could be doing more. Nonetheless, she followed orders. This was her responsibility now, and she took it seriously.

"Captain, the Runners from Bay 92 are here."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Surefire." She replied. "I will see them now."

The Runners―medics specially trained to operate even under heavy fire―were their most valuable asset at this time in the war. Andromeda could tell they were all in top physical condition―some of them even more so than members of the Escort. Every one of them wore the uniform colors of the Medical Unit, white and orange. A stark contrast to the Escort's dark green armor.

"Welcome, brothers and sisters." Andromeda greeted them, the Runners saluted.

"I'm sure you're all aware of the massacre taking place at the Front." She continued, pacing as she spoke―inspecting each of them as she went. "... And while I know that you've already taken a great risk in transferring to our bay, I'm going to have to ask you to take another risk. Many more, in fact. Here, you'll train harder than you ever have before, because you'll be saving more lives than you knew could be lost."

"Permission to speak, Captain."

It was the head of the unit that had made the request. Andromeda nodded.

"Go ahead, Commander."

"While I myself appreciate the Escort's efforts, some of my team doubts the need for your help."

Andromeda chuckled, amused by their ignorance. While she and the Commander shared a mutual respect for one another, it wasn't surprising to find that his team wasn't the same.

"Very well." She said, then turned to one of the other Runners. "You, what is your name?"

The mech stiffened, then replied nervously:

"Ratchet, ma'am."

"Ratchet," She repeated, "... Do you know how many medics have been lost from bays without an Escort?"

He didn't reply.

"Hundreds." She told him. "Hundreds, replaced by rookies that haven't had nearly enough experience to defend themselves in the heat of battle. Now, do you know how many medics have been lost from my bay?"

"None, ma'am."

Andromeda leaned back, impressed. "You've done your research, then." She observed. "Yes. Out of the entire time that my Escorts have defended this unit, not one medic was lost."

She addressed the rest of the team now:

"This Escort has sacrificed their own lives to preserve yours. So the next time you doubt the need for our protection, you might do well to remember that."

The Runners nodded, some of them looking more impacted than others.

The doubters. Andromeda thought. They'll learn soon enough.

As the Commander led his unit to the barracks, Andromeda watched the one called Ratchet. She had never heard of him. Perhaps a new recruit?

Whoever he was, he knew more than the others.

I'm going to keep my eye on you.