A carrier's love

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Fire lit the sky as buildings burned, mech screamed, and the ground shook. Decepticon seekers and aerial autobots clashed in the sky. Ground forces battled brutally in the streets and civilians fled in every direction. This was a battle that was against the laws of war. The decepticons had targeted a civilian sector, and a neutral one at that. The initial bombing run had damaged the buildings, and as the autobot forces fought them back, street by street, large chunks of metal stone and glass rained from the sky and explosions roared. It was Kaon. Amidst the destruction, a slender orange fem ran through the war zone that had been her neighborhood, carrying a small bundle beneath her arms. She found a darkened and empty ally and crouched between two waste disposals. The bundle in her arms moved and whined.

"Shhhhh, it's ok my little sweet spark, it's ok," bright blue optics peered out from a yellow helm as she rocked her child. If she could just stay low, at least until the fighting died down. They would be alright. He would be alright. A trine of seekers roared over head, and she curled around her child. "It's ok, mama is here , it's alright," she lied to her child as the building behind them shuddered. The orange mecha held her sparkling tightly to her chest as her world fell around them.

A low smog covered the area, as autobot forces swept through the rubble. The once lustrous sector was now leveled, bare frameworks of buildings jutting into the sky like jagged teeth.

"Hey Mirage, do you smell that?" Mirage groaned and turned to face Hound. He had only met the guy a few months ago and he was already starting to get on his nerves.

"No, Hound, I don't. Why? Because I never do. You always say 'hey do you smell something' and I always go 'no, I don't' why? BECAUSE NOT ALL OF US HAVE OVERHAULED NASAL SENSORS!" Hound backed off as his colleague continued to scan the ground for buried assets. He sniffed the air again. Hound didn't know how to let things be.

"I'm telling you 'rage, I smell something. I just can't place it. It's kinda metallic, definitely still warm, and whatever it is there is a lot of it." He frowned as he took a deep intake. "I GOT IT! MIRAGE, BRING THAT THING OVER HERE!" Mirage rolled his optics and went over to where Hound was crouched down, sniffing at the rubble. Primus he was a odd one.

"What do you want you blathering idiot?" Mirage snapped. Hound looked at him with a grim expression.

"Energon. It's energon I smell. And a whole lot of it." Mirage scoffed and places a servo on his hip.

"You are standing on the wreckage of a battlefield lug nuts, of course you are going to smell spilt energon." He turned to leave. He had been out here in this slag pile all day, and he was ready for a ration and a berth. He felt a large green hand on his shoulder.

"Mirage, wait. I know what I smell. That's fresh energon down there. It's been almost two days since the battle ended. Any energon spilt then would have deteriorated by now. This is fresh. Some bot is trapped down there, and they are hurt badly."

Mirage relented. "Fine, if it will shut you up, I'll scan the stupid pile of scrap.

He turned the device towards the pile of rubble. This had been an ally once. Crushed waste disposals and something wedged between them. A VERY faint life signature blipped on the readout screen.

"Fine Hound, you win. Someone is down there. I'll call Hoist over to help us clear this wreckage."

He was scared. He was hungry. He was cold. His leg and head hurt, like when he had fallen off his bouncy chair but much much worse. He cried. He cried for his sire, or his carrier, or anyone. Dust threatened to choke his vovoliser as he wailed with all his might. Never in his life had he felt like this. He cried. Because he was cold, he was hungry, and he cried because he was scared.

The crew dug. Hundreds of pounds of crushed rock, slabs of concrete, and warped support beams were moved. What they saw shocked them to their cores. They unearthed a small orange mecha, a support beam rammed through her spark chamber. Her lights had gone out quite some time ago, but her limbs remained locked in place, holding her up and over a tiny whining sparking. He was covered in the spilt energon of his carrier, and his own pitiful fuel supply leaked from a gash on his helm, and one of his tiny limbs that had been crushed under the debris. Hound cradled the little one in his servos as he ran back to base.

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