"You vile- RRRAW!" Whoever grabbed Steel screams in a very poor Altihexian accent, his helm... or whatever it is... is grabbed by Steel. The first responder uses this newfound leverage and hoists his frame up and over, releasing his doorwing and leg struts coming around and kicking off of his assailant's back. As his pedes boost off the back, long curved spikes with sharpened ends miss impaling him by mere centimetres as they explode out of the aggressor's spinal strut. They extend out a good four metres, enough to stab all the way through any metal that might've been in contact with the aggressor's back.
Steel's pretty fortunate he didn't go for a takedown and instead dodged. He flips and lands on one knee with a grunt. What kind of Cybertronian would have those after the war? 'I get they're pretty flashy but, not only is the war supposed to be over, it's outright illegal to have mods like that now.' The aggressor charges at him with all the mass of a giant. Responding fast and out of defense, Steel musters up momentum and throws a sedative dart-like needle before dodging a furry of a strike. He carried those mostly for hysterical victims or out-of-control mech-animals, not big aft killing machines.
With luck it sticks. Pointed claws dig into his plating, spreading pain across his sensor-net. He lands on his arm, scrambling to run to the other side of the room before they can charge again.
Steel continues to dodge for his life as his assailant grows sluggish and all the more angry. The needle doesn't take them all the way down, much to his dismay, but they fall to the ground with a growl. He takes a moment to collect himself, only now noticing the damage he had endured. Fresh beads of internal fluids flow out of gashes across his arm strut and joints. His door wing is completely mangled.
He runs forward and unchains the mech on the wall before holding up both their masses and hauling the two of them out of the room. Behind him, increasingly quieting curses of profanity emit from the now subdued aggressor. As he rushes out of the room, two officers dash around the corner, sprinting towards him. They immediately pour onto Steel asking about the situation. He doesn't answer, can't answer.
Never has he felt so close to biting the dust, the shock preventing the formation of words in his vocaliser.
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Transformers Prime: The Three Pacifists
General FictionOn Cybertron, the civil war is over. At least, that is what the new council preaches. Steel, a rookie first responder, is among many being trained to be the city of Iacon's so called "extra safety measure". Steel, a bot who's just been thrown into...
