Time of Need, a Transformers G1 fanfic
Title: Time of Need
Universe: G1
Rating: G
Characters: Hot Spot, Groove, First Aid, Streetwise, Blades, mentions of the Constructicons
Prompt: Sinkhole
Warnings: none
Notes: written for the May 21, 2011 round at tf_speedwriting.
For a long moment, they simply stared in shock at what had happened.
They had lived all their lives on Earth-short though they had been so far-and they had heard of this phenomenon, but never seen it in person. Nothing they had seen on the news or read about in text books prepared them for the sheer enormity of the sinkhole in front of them. The Protectobots were, quite frankly, too stunned to move.
They had been battling the Constructicons just outside a small Midwestern town, though battle was probably too generous a word for “running the Constructicons out of the local quarry with some shouted threats and only one weapon drawn between the five of them”. The Decepticon combiner team had been very adamant about not wanting to fight them and only wanting supplies to build themselves a new workshop outside the confines of the main Decepticon base. Hot shot was even inclined to believe them; even as Decepticons they had really only ever wanted to build things.
They settled things peacefully, or as peacefully as possible with Bonecrusher threatening dire things if the Protectobots tried anything, and the Constructicons made their way out of the quarry. They had even left behind whatever stolen materials had been in Long Haul’s bed, though that didn’t account for anything in any of the six mechs’ subspace compartments. As the last of the Constructicons cleared the quarry’s edge, things had gone horribly, horribly wrong.
And now, the quarry was gone and so was the Decepticon combiner team.
“What… What happened?” Streetwise’s question was one that echoed in all their processors.
“They fell in a sinkhole.” Hot Shot was surprised at how even his voice sounded.
“I see that,” Streetwise replied, “But why? I mean, did they do something to the quarry?”
“I really don’t think that’s relevant at the moment,” First Aid interrupted. “I think they need help. And they could be hurt.”
“Aid! They’re Decepticons!” Blades gave the medic an affronted look. “You can’t be serious!”
“No, he’s right.” Groove put a hand on Blade’s chest plates. “They might be Decepticons, but we’re Autobots and that makes us better than that. They need our help and we should help them, because that’s what we do.”
“Yes. We go in, we help them, and we take them back for repairs if necessary.” Hot Spot spoke firmly enough that there would be no further argument from Blades.
The flier glared. “Fine. But I still don’t like it.”
“Noted. Now do a fly-over and see if you can spot them down there.”
Universe: G1
Rating: G
Characters: Hot Spot, Groove, First Aid, Streetwise, Blades, mentions of the Constructicons
Prompt: Sinkhole
Warnings: none
Notes: written for the May 21, 2011 round at tf_speedwriting.
For a long moment, they simply stared in shock at what had happened.
They had lived all their lives on Earth-short though they had been so far-and they had heard of this phenomenon, but never seen it in person. Nothing they had seen on the news or read about in text books prepared them for the sheer enormity of the sinkhole in front of them. The Protectobots were, quite frankly, too stunned to move.
They had been battling the Constructicons just outside a small Midwestern town, though battle was probably too generous a word for “running the Constructicons out of the local quarry with some shouted threats and only one weapon drawn between the five of them”. The Decepticon combiner team had been very adamant about not wanting to fight them and only wanting supplies to build themselves a new workshop outside the confines of the main Decepticon base. Hot shot was even inclined to believe them; even as Decepticons they had really only ever wanted to build things.
They settled things peacefully, or as peacefully as possible with Bonecrusher threatening dire things if the Protectobots tried anything, and the Constructicons made their way out of the quarry. They had even left behind whatever stolen materials had been in Long Haul’s bed, though that didn’t account for anything in any of the six mechs’ subspace compartments. As the last of the Constructicons cleared the quarry’s edge, things had gone horribly, horribly wrong.
And now, the quarry was gone and so was the Decepticon combiner team.
“What… What happened?” Streetwise’s question was one that echoed in all their processors.
“They fell in a sinkhole.” Hot Shot was surprised at how even his voice sounded.
“I see that,” Streetwise replied, “But why? I mean, did they do something to the quarry?”
“I really don’t think that’s relevant at the moment,” First Aid interrupted. “I think they need help. And they could be hurt.”
“Aid! They’re Decepticons!” Blades gave the medic an affronted look. “You can’t be serious!”
“No, he’s right.” Groove put a hand on Blade’s chest plates. “They might be Decepticons, but we’re Autobots and that makes us better than that. They need our help and we should help them, because that’s what we do.”
“Yes. We go in, we help them, and we take them back for repairs if necessary.” Hot Spot spoke firmly enough that there would be no further argument from Blades.
The flier glared. “Fine. But I still don’t like it.”
“Noted. Now do a fly-over and see if you can spot them down there.”