Carry My Will [Transformers]

The Black Mech: Part 1

The swordsmech may be a mech of honor and of his religion that he loves dearly but once in a while indulging in a little rule breaking couldn't hurt, right? They were both laughing as the flame colored mech dragged him through devastated alleyways and streets full of rubble and dead bodies but they didn't pay them any mind, more focused on acting like younglings as they made it to a decently open and clear area. Drift takes a moment to look at his surroundings and he realizes that they were quite far away from the search zone that Ultra magnus had set for the day and a pang of worry reared its' head. One look at Hot Rod, however, and that worry went away.

They were both capable mechs, able to take care of themselves. 

Plus Drift would be able to sense if they weren't alone and his Amica trusted in that ability.

---

"Where in Primus' name is the captain?" Pharma asked, his vocalizer a bit scratchy from disuse. Ambulon and FirstAid had told him not to over use it since it was still recovering from the mass amount of abuse it took a couple weeks ago. The same time that the engines were damaged badly and needed a quick fix. Perceptor looks up, deep blue optic locking onto Pharma while light blue arms held a pile of pipes and long pieces of scrap metal. He was covered in dust and his paint was chipped around his arms and shoulders and from what Pharma could see of his legs they were also chipped and even slightly dented.

"I don't know, I don't sparkling-sit him, nor his Amica. Though I would assume that Ultra Magnus is keeping an optic on them since he had all but grounded the captain due to last night." The chief science officer replied, lifting his chin slightly before turning his helm away to look back at one of the crew members. Pharma scoffed, a slight sneer crossing his faceplates in a rather unattractive way. Pharma was there overlooking this group of mechs in case someone got hurt. Lancet, Ambulon, and FirstAid were overlooking their own groups since they were in a rather unstable area. It was one of those platforms that used to be used for landing small airborne crafts and it wasn't the most sturdy of places. The supports underneath were in rough shape, especially after all this time of disuse. "And didn't Ambulon tell you not to talk too much unless you wanted to go mute again?" Perceptor looked back over at Pharma who rolled his optics at the reminder and crosses his white and blue arms, near navy toned hands gripping white forearms.

"That's what I thought."

---

Ultra Magnus couldn't help but feel like something was wrong. He couldn't explain it very well but that feeling was there. Like something was about to go wrong or something already happened, it was making him snappish towards his fellow officers who were coordinating the search for usable parts.

::Commander! Come in, Commander!:: Red Alert's frantic calling on the com-link startled Ultra Magnus for all but a moment and he quickly answers the com, turning away from the other officers for a moment. ::I hear you, Red Alert, what's the matter?::

::Thank primus you answered! I couldn't get any form of communication working and I can't get a hold of either Captain or his Amica! I-I don't know where they went, Commander and I'm worried about them. I can't find them on any of the video feeds-:: Red Alert was rambling and wasn't making much sense for a moment but then it registered and Ultra Magnus' faceplates hardened into a deep disapproving scowl. 

::Don't worry Red Alert, I will go find our runaway captain and Third. You just make sure to keep an eye on the security while I'm gone and comm me if something goes wrong.::

::Yes sir, Commander. Will do.:: The com-link fritzed and then cut off and the scowl turned into a frown. Maybe there is proper cause for at least some concern. he thought to himself. But then again, dead zones here shouldn't be too much of a surprise considering that Cybertron has long since been dead and no power has been available since during the war. But still, even as he told himself that, it just...didn't feel right. Just moments ago he was able to comm Skyfire about his status and the connection was crystal clear like energon. Something fishy is happening and I don't like it. The second in command of the ship thought darkly as he turns back to his fellow officers Lampshade and Springer. "You two keep coordinating the searches, I need to go find our runaway captain and Third."

"Don't worry Magnus, we'll keep the fort down." Lampshade grinned, saluting playfully. He was a dark forest green and yellow colored mech with gold colored optics with shoulders that seemed to broad for his body and a helm that was wide and spiked with a flip-able red visor. Not very attractive by any standards but he was good at his job of Head of Special Operations. The mech had a deep crush on FirstAid but the little medic doesn't seem to notice at all.

Ultra Magnus nods his helm and turns, transforming into his truck mode and he speeds off to go look for Hot Rod and Drift.

Knowing those two, they went off to race. So I should look for any open spaces they may be in.

---

Drift cried out as he crashed into a wall, causing it to break and crumble on top of him. He coughs as it had kicked up a lot of dust and dirt, the dirt getting into open fuel lines stung but not as much as his back struts which he could feel had been misaligned and even a couple were broken as he felt energon run down his backplates. A quiet groan escapes him as he rolls his head back against the debris to look up a bit to see that the huge mech they had run into was about to open fire on Hot Rod who bursts into flames with blazing blue optics. Well, one optic. The left one had been badly cracked from an explosion. Along with the entire left side of his face. And most of the left side of his body. That explosion had been really bad, possibly a high powered frag? Either way, Drift's audial receptors rang loudly from it.

He knew that this had been a bad idea.
He really should have told Hot Rod 'no', but fragging Pits he was weak to those turbopuppy looks.

Hot Rod was pissed as he saw his Amica get thrown off the huge towering mech and into a building and saw how the large heavy pieces of metal trapped Drift under there but it was a relief to see him still functioning. But I don't know the damage he took. For all I know he could by dying! Hot Rod thought fearfully, his spark lurching in horror that he might lose his best friend and that fueled his determination to make this mech pay as he turned back to face him. "Let's go you big ugly brute!" Hot Rod shouted and he charged forward, reeling back a fist that was engulfed in almost white hot fire as he gritted his denta, optic locked onto the pitch black mech who seemed to brace himself with one forearm in front of him.

Hot Rod's flaming fist met a bright blue glowing shield and he internally cursed. Fragging plasma shield!? He thought as he brought up another flaming fist and he began to pound on it with heavy blows, the force of his relentless strength causing the huge black mech to skid backwards a bit. The mech on fire felt his flames burn hotter with his determination as he forced the behemoth of a mech back away from Drift who was trying to dig himself out of the rubble.

The mech that was more than three times Hot Rod's size transforms his free servo into an energon axe but it was red instead of blue like the shield and Hot Rod cried out in pain as that axe crashed into his side with the force of a crashing fighter jet, knocking the captain back and onto the ground. A huge gash in his side that felt like it had nearly cleaved him in two and his flames die out as he curls in around his heavily leaking side and trying to cycle air through his tanks.

Heavy footsteps were getting closer and closer to him but with how bad the injury to his side was he couldn't get up...