[G1 - Aerialbots & Protectobots] Fic: Taking Offense
Title: Taking Offense
Series: Transformers: G1
Rating: PG
Character(s): Air Raid, First Aid, Fireflight, Aerialbots & Protectobots
Warnings: Aerialbots in bad shape.
Word Count: ~950
Summary: Attempting to take out the Aerialbots may not have been Megatron’s best plan ever.
Notes: I am really not this prolific, I swear. (And I hope I am not spamming.) But Monday did not start well for me and scripting this in my head during my commute helped me deal. Thought I'd post in the hope that it might brighten someone else's day too. :D
Taking Offense
“Ooooww,” groaned Air Raid, consciousness stuttering back in a jagged mess of pain and error messages. “What hit me?”
“We’re not sure,” he heard First Aid reply, his calm voice always a reassuring sign upon waking even if Air Raid’s vision hadn’t quite cleared yet. “Some new weapon of Megatron’s.”
Oh right. One minute the team had been flying towards a distress call and the next thing they knew, the night had erupted into weapons fire.
The team - oh Primus...
“Where’s everyone else?” Air Raid demanded frantically, shoving himself upright. He didn’t get very far. Warnings exploded across his vision even as hands caught him and held him down.
“Calm down and stay still!” First Aid ordered, tone sharpening. “The others are being taken care of and you’re in no shape to be moving around.”
“Yeah, I got that,” Air Raid managed, voice gone scratchy with the pain sizzling through him.
“Please don’t do that again, Air Raid,” Fireflight’s voice pleaded and Air Raid squinted upwards to find his teammate’s face peering down at him, full of concern. “You’re going to be okay but you can’t move too much yet.”
“How about you, Flighty? Are you okay?” Air Raid asked, tilting his head back in Fireflight’s lap to get a better look at him.
Fireflight was a mess, burnt patches scattered across his armour, the dull shine of field welding gleaming in more than a few places. From the way he felt, Air Raid was pretty sure he was in close to the same state.
Fireflight nodded and gave him a shaky smile. “I’m okay. Better than you, even.”
“You know how to listen to instructions,” First Aid muttered, hands busy sealing off panels on Air Raid’s torso.
“How’re they doing?” Blades yelled from somewhere to their left, Air Raid belatedly registering the swish and clash of his rotors. They must have assigned him to cover First Aid.
“They’re okay!” First Aid called back. “Air Raid’s awake!”
“Too bad!” Blades shouted. “I was just starting to appreciate the quiet.”
Slag the field repairs, Air Raid thought, scrounging enough strength to lift one arm and wave a rude gesture in the direction of Blades’ voice.
“Air Raid!” Firefight scolded through a spate of giggles, catching his hand and folding it into a gentle grip as he lowered Air Raid’s arm to his chest. “You’re not supposed to move!”
“He started it,” Air Raid muttered sulkily. “So where're the rest of us?” First Aid had said they were being taken care of...
“Slingshot’s on his way back to the Ark with Ratchet - he got pretty badly torn up but he’ll be just fine. Skydive’s grounded but in pretty decent shape otherwise - Streetwise is keeping an eye on him. You two have got more than a few holes punched in you but nothing we can’t fix. You just need to keep as still as you can ‘till we can get some permanent patchwork done.”
“Is Silverbolt-” Air Raid started to ask when there was a brilliant blue-white flash and a deafening crack of thunder from somewhere nearby.
“Never mind,” he finished gleefully.
“He took some fire but the worst of it missed him. He’ll feel it later but he’s got more important things on his mind at the moment. He’s really not very happy with Megatron right now,” First Aid commented mildly.
“Good,” Air Raid declared vengefully. “I hope he fries him to slag.”
“Mmm,” First Aid hummed distracted agreement as he lifted his head and looked over at the battle. “I think he might have some help.”
“Where are you going?” Fireflight asked in alarm as First Aid briskly climbed to his feet. “Air Raid-!”
“Don’t worry,” First Aid soothed him. “Air Raid will be fine and he’s got you here to make sure he stays that way.” He hesitated as he looked down at them, optics flickering over the extensive scorches and weld-marks on their armour, then squared his shoulders.
Air Raid figured they must be an awfully pathetic sight to make First Aid look at them like that.
“See, the thing is, we aren’t very happy either,” he informed them as he trotted away.
We? Air Raid wondered, exchanging a confused look with Fireflight.
A familiar shout cut through the clash of the fighting. “Protectobots! Transform into Defensor!”
The unmistakable sound of Defensor’s assembly was oddly easy to pick out of the chaos, followed by the low rumble of an angry gestalt. Neither of them had any trouble hearing the subsequent loud crunch of metal crumpling under a heavy fist or the panicked yelps of retreating Decepticons.
“No fair,” complained Air Raid muzzily. “Since when do they get to play cavalry?”
“I guess they really weren’t happy,” Fireflight remarked, looking impressed with whatever was going on.
“What’re they doing?” Air Raid asked, angling his head to try and get a glimpse of the action.
“Smashing every piece of equipment Silverbolt left standing,” Fireflight reported cheerfully. “Whatever it was that Megatron used on us, he’s not going to be using it again.”
Awesome. Air Raid hadn’t known the Protectobots had it in them.
“Please tell me you’re recording this,” Air Raid begged. He couldn’t get a good look, no matter how he craned his neck. “This I gotta see!”
“Mm-hm,” Fireflight assured him, squeezing his hand absently. “Ooooo! Nice shot!”
Well, then. Air Raid relaxed into Fireflight’s lap with a sigh. That was all right. Flight would get a copy for everyone to appreciate later. He’d just stay here and let the Protectobots play heroes.
And Silverbolt, he amended sleepily as a familiar silhouette crossed his line of sight. Just this once.
Fin
You know, writing subtleties of expression for robots that wear visors and mouthplates? Is actually quite difficult.
Series: Transformers: G1
Rating: PG
Character(s): Air Raid, First Aid, Fireflight, Aerialbots & Protectobots
Warnings: Aerialbots in bad shape.
Word Count: ~950
Summary: Attempting to take out the Aerialbots may not have been Megatron’s best plan ever.
Notes: I am really not this prolific, I swear. (And I hope I am not spamming.) But Monday did not start well for me and scripting this in my head during my commute helped me deal. Thought I'd post in the hope that it might brighten someone else's day too. :D
Taking Offense
“Ooooww,” groaned Air Raid, consciousness stuttering back in a jagged mess of pain and error messages. “What hit me?”
“We’re not sure,” he heard First Aid reply, his calm voice always a reassuring sign upon waking even if Air Raid’s vision hadn’t quite cleared yet. “Some new weapon of Megatron’s.”
Oh right. One minute the team had been flying towards a distress call and the next thing they knew, the night had erupted into weapons fire.
The team - oh Primus...
“Where’s everyone else?” Air Raid demanded frantically, shoving himself upright. He didn’t get very far. Warnings exploded across his vision even as hands caught him and held him down.
“Calm down and stay still!” First Aid ordered, tone sharpening. “The others are being taken care of and you’re in no shape to be moving around.”
“Yeah, I got that,” Air Raid managed, voice gone scratchy with the pain sizzling through him.
“Please don’t do that again, Air Raid,” Fireflight’s voice pleaded and Air Raid squinted upwards to find his teammate’s face peering down at him, full of concern. “You’re going to be okay but you can’t move too much yet.”
“How about you, Flighty? Are you okay?” Air Raid asked, tilting his head back in Fireflight’s lap to get a better look at him.
Fireflight was a mess, burnt patches scattered across his armour, the dull shine of field welding gleaming in more than a few places. From the way he felt, Air Raid was pretty sure he was in close to the same state.
Fireflight nodded and gave him a shaky smile. “I’m okay. Better than you, even.”
“You know how to listen to instructions,” First Aid muttered, hands busy sealing off panels on Air Raid’s torso.
“How’re they doing?” Blades yelled from somewhere to their left, Air Raid belatedly registering the swish and clash of his rotors. They must have assigned him to cover First Aid.
“They’re okay!” First Aid called back. “Air Raid’s awake!”
“Too bad!” Blades shouted. “I was just starting to appreciate the quiet.”
Slag the field repairs, Air Raid thought, scrounging enough strength to lift one arm and wave a rude gesture in the direction of Blades’ voice.
“Air Raid!” Firefight scolded through a spate of giggles, catching his hand and folding it into a gentle grip as he lowered Air Raid’s arm to his chest. “You’re not supposed to move!”
“He started it,” Air Raid muttered sulkily. “So where're the rest of us?” First Aid had said they were being taken care of...
“Slingshot’s on his way back to the Ark with Ratchet - he got pretty badly torn up but he’ll be just fine. Skydive’s grounded but in pretty decent shape otherwise - Streetwise is keeping an eye on him. You two have got more than a few holes punched in you but nothing we can’t fix. You just need to keep as still as you can ‘till we can get some permanent patchwork done.”
“Is Silverbolt-” Air Raid started to ask when there was a brilliant blue-white flash and a deafening crack of thunder from somewhere nearby.
“Never mind,” he finished gleefully.
“He took some fire but the worst of it missed him. He’ll feel it later but he’s got more important things on his mind at the moment. He’s really not very happy with Megatron right now,” First Aid commented mildly.
“Good,” Air Raid declared vengefully. “I hope he fries him to slag.”
“Mmm,” First Aid hummed distracted agreement as he lifted his head and looked over at the battle. “I think he might have some help.”
“Where are you going?” Fireflight asked in alarm as First Aid briskly climbed to his feet. “Air Raid-!”
“Don’t worry,” First Aid soothed him. “Air Raid will be fine and he’s got you here to make sure he stays that way.” He hesitated as he looked down at them, optics flickering over the extensive scorches and weld-marks on their armour, then squared his shoulders.
Air Raid figured they must be an awfully pathetic sight to make First Aid look at them like that.
“See, the thing is, we aren’t very happy either,” he informed them as he trotted away.
We? Air Raid wondered, exchanging a confused look with Fireflight.
A familiar shout cut through the clash of the fighting. “Protectobots! Transform into Defensor!”
The unmistakable sound of Defensor’s assembly was oddly easy to pick out of the chaos, followed by the low rumble of an angry gestalt. Neither of them had any trouble hearing the subsequent loud crunch of metal crumpling under a heavy fist or the panicked yelps of retreating Decepticons.
“No fair,” complained Air Raid muzzily. “Since when do they get to play cavalry?”
“I guess they really weren’t happy,” Fireflight remarked, looking impressed with whatever was going on.
“What’re they doing?” Air Raid asked, angling his head to try and get a glimpse of the action.
“Smashing every piece of equipment Silverbolt left standing,” Fireflight reported cheerfully. “Whatever it was that Megatron used on us, he’s not going to be using it again.”
Awesome. Air Raid hadn’t known the Protectobots had it in them.
“Please tell me you’re recording this,” Air Raid begged. He couldn’t get a good look, no matter how he craned his neck. “This I gotta see!”
“Mm-hm,” Fireflight assured him, squeezing his hand absently. “Ooooo! Nice shot!”
Well, then. Air Raid relaxed into Fireflight’s lap with a sigh. That was all right. Flight would get a copy for everyone to appreciate later. He’d just stay here and let the Protectobots play heroes.
And Silverbolt, he amended sleepily as a familiar silhouette crossed his line of sight. Just this once.
Fin
You know, writing subtleties of expression for robots that wear visors and mouthplates? Is actually quite difficult.