TF (OC): Searchin’ Part Two
Rating: PG
Series: G1
Summary: This is the back-story for my OC Tracer. Having joined Red Alert’s team, Tracer finds out exactly what it means to be part of a Search and Rescue team
Warnings: Battlefield violence?
Disclaimer: As per usual, the good things in life are not mine to have, but belong to someone else... in this case Hasbro, Takara and IDW and anyone else I’ve forgotten… Tracer belongs to me… as do Kicker and Rollback
Feedback makes friends. Flames dealt with by the masters of paranoia and fire, Red Alert and Inferno.
Searchin' Part One
The next morning saw Tracer waiting anxiously in the shuttle bay. She was early, but she wanted to prove to Red Alert that she was responsible, particularly after the events of the previous day. The shuttle and their pilot were ready and waiting. They made idle conversation while they were waiting, Tracer breaking off as she heard footsteps coming down the corridor and she straightened up.
“Morning Sir.” She said crisply as he entered the shuttle bay. Red Alert nodded before following the pilot aboard the shuttle. Reluctantly Tracer followed them, not particularly relishing the trip. It wasn’t that she wasn’t excited about the assignment, it was more the fact that she wasn’t keen on heights and the altitude the shuttles flew at. Not that she would ever admit that if anyone asked. She settled down in her seat, watching the pilot run through the shuttle initiation procedures. Red Alert was seemingly engrossed in reading a datapad, paying little attention to either of them.
The shuttle took off smoothly, making little sound as it cut through the atmosphere, soaring towards Sector G2.
“You left the party early last night.” Red Alert broke the silence that had fallen with that statement, not even lifting his optics from his datapad. There had been an impromptu party the previous night; a celebration of her ‘promotion’ and assignment. She’d stayed long enough to meet everyone there, but had left early.
“Too noisy.” She explained. “Audios are particularly sensitive.” Red Alert nodded in understanding.
“The music was rather loud.”
“Just a bit.” She wished she had been able to stay longer, but plenty of experience at the Academy had taught her that staying too long in the vicinity of loud music and such like would result in a trip to the medical bay the next morning for audio recalibration which wasn’t the most enjoyable medical procedure she had ever undergone. So she left parties early; avoiding the loud music and the painful recalibration. It wasn’t that she didn’t like socialising; quite the opposite in fact - she loved it. She just didn’t like the recalibrations required after attending functions with loud music. She had endeavoured to spend time at parties, invariably as far away from the sound systems as possible. That seemed to cut down the problems, but it didn’t eliminate them. It was a fine balance between enjoying herself and injuring herself.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The journey was uneventful and the landing was as smooth as the takeoff, much to Tracer’s relief. As they disembarked, Tracer looked around her before turning to watch the shuttle lift off again.
“We’ve still got a way to go.” Red Alert motioned her over to an alleyway. “Security; lessens the chance of the Decepticons finding our base.” He explained. She followed Red Alert on a convoluted route that took them to the base, trying to keep up and memorise the route at the same time.
“We’re here.” Red Alert muttered, knocking on a plain wall. Tracer stared in amazement as the wall slid away revealing an entrance. Stepping inside, Red Alert waited until she had moved beside him to press a button. It felt like the floor dropped out from beneath her as the entire room sunk into the ground.
“Let me guess, security?” Tracer asked wryly, resisting the urge to hang on to the walls.
“Exactly.” Red Alert nodded approvingly.
Once they’d reached the bottom of the shaft and entered the base proper, Tracer was introduced to the other members of the team; Inferno, Firestar, Rollback and Kicker. Giving each a weak smile and a wave, she suddenly felt out of place and rather small. There was no doubt that she was the smallest; even sitting down, Firestar was taller than her. She listened as Red Alert gave a brief history of each team member and her own, before they briefed Red Alert on what had happened while he was away.
“Kicker, would you give Tracer a tour of the base?” Red Alert interrupted the explanations to beckon a large red mech. forward, who promptly grinned and stared down at Tracer.
“Sure thing.”
As soon as the mismatched pair had left, Rollback raised one hand to his optic band and covered it in one swift frustrated motion.
“Primus, what have you done Red? Do I need to look at your cpu again?”
“My processor is perfectly fine Rollback.” Red Alert virtually snapped at the team’s medic. “Tracer will be a valuable addition to the team.”
“She’s small. Will that be a problem?” Firestar asked, coming to stand next to Red Alert. “I remember how much fuss you guys made when I joined and she’s smaller still.”
“She’s fast. She may not be able to fight well, but she will certainly be able to outrun any trouble that comes her way.”
“Even Kicker?” Inferno smirked.
“Especially Kicker. Primus help him if he tries to race her. Even I had trouble catching up to her.”
“He needs taking down a peg or two.”
“But she don’t do fighting?”
“No, she needs to improve that skill. I would like for you to help her with that Inferno.” The large red mech. grinned in reply.
“No problems.”
“Don’t make more work for me Inferno.” Rollback warned.
“Would I do that to ya Rollback?”
“Yes.”
“Enough. We’ve got a full complement again and I don’t want to have to replace anyone again.” Red Alert made sure the rest of his team had heard him before turning his attentions to the monitors in the command room, checking everything over for himself.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The base was small; as were all the bases designed and built quickly as strategic outposts for the Search and Rescue teams, so the tour didn’t take long.
“So… you’re our new tracker eh?”
“Yup.”
“So how fast are ya? You look as though you should be pretty quick.” Tracer glanced up at him, trying to gauge the reason for the question. She smiled at the impish grin on his faceplates.
“Fast enough to outrun you.”
“Oh yeah shortstuff?” He made a move to flick one of the projections standing out from her helmet.
“Oh no you don’t! They’re too sensitive for playing games with.” She snapped, knocking his hand out of the way.
“They make you look like a cybercat.” He grinned. “And you’re cute when you’re angry.” Tracer faltered for a moment before laughing.
“And you’re one microchip short of a processor!” She retorted.
“Bet you I can still beat your short aft in a race though.”
“Doubt it.”
“Oooh, it’s a challenge kid!”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Kicker led her out of the base through a different door. Tracer stood and stared; all she could see was a flat expanse for several hics.
“We’ll head in that direction. First one to the perimeter fence wins.” He explained pointing one large hand in the direction they were planning on heading.
“It’s okay to do this?” Tracer suddenly wondered whether racing one of her new team-mates on her first day was the wisest idea she’d ever had.
“Of course. Nothing’s gonna happen. And if it does, Red’ll let us know in plenty of time.”
“Right…”
“Come on then!” Barely giving her any warning, Kicker transformed and set off across the plain.
“Hey!”
Tracer transformed and launched herself after Kicker, quickly catching up to and overtaking him. Veering away from him as he tried to knock her off course, she laughed through the internal comm.
“Told you I was fast.”
“Heh. And you weren’t kidding either.” Tracer sped away from Kicker again, only stopping when she reached the fence. Idling happily after the race, she waited until Kicker drew to a stop and transformed before she did the same.
“Is it always this quiet out here?”
“Normally, it is. We’re more likely to get called out to help in the nearby sectors. But sometimes, the Decept’s decide to use this area as a training ground or they just want us out of here. Then it’s up to us to raise the alarm and pick up the pieces.”
“What could they want with this place?” Tracer asked, scanning the area to see if she could determine any reason the Decepticons would want to locate a base in such a desolate area.
“Well, for a start, we’ve got a pretty big pile of energon sitting out here.”
“Yeah, I guess that could be a big incentive.”
“But Red Alert’s got a good security system, so we get enough warning… normally.”
“Normally?”
“Yeah… sometimes we don’t get no warning, they circumvent his measures and we have to go kick their afts outta here.”
“That sucks tailpipe…” Tracer muttered.
“Heh. Ain’t that the truth. But only sometimes. Most the time we’re running through the battles, dodging fire and trying to get the wounded to the medics behind the lines. Means we ain’t doing the actual fighting, but we sure as Pit are helping! C’mon, we’d best head back before Red realises how far we’ve gone.” He gave Tracer a conspiratorial glance before transforming and heading back to the base at a more sedate pace.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Despite her initial misgivings, Tracer fitted in well, adjusting to the daily schedules of shift work and monitoring the security grid surrounding their sector. Amongst the shift work and down time were the calls for help. The calls that would have them airlifted to the scene of a battle (or before if the information had been intercepted early enough) for Search and Rescue.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Keep your head down and your sensors on full. Any injured Autobot needs pulling out!”
Tracer kept close to Rollback, directing him through their tight-band comm. link and desperately trying to ignore the sounds of the battle raging around her.
“There.” She stopped and transformed, instinctively ducking low against the backdrop of missiles, bombs and laser fire that cut through the air.
“I can’t see a slagging thing. Ain’t even gonna ask how on Cybertron you can.” If he could have seen Tracer through the smoke drifting around them, he would have glared at the smirk on her face.
“I’m getting a reading, but it’s getting fainter.” Worry tinged her vocaliser. There was only one reason the signal strength would be fading this close to the source. “Here Rollback.” She pulled on his arm, his larger frame following her slender one through the debris littering what had once been a beautiful part of Cybertron. As the medic went to work, Tracer scanned their surroundings, keeping an optic out for anything unfriendly heading their way.
“Get us an emergency evac. Trace…” Rollback trailed off, large hands working feverishly to stem the flow of coolant and energon from the mangled chassis. Tracer nodded sharply, raising Red Alert on the comm. and informing him of the situation. It seemed only a matter of kliks before she registered the distinctive sound of a jet engine cutting above the sound of the battle. With a gentleness belying his size, Rollback carefully loaded the injured mech. into the carrier.
“Will he make it?” Tracer heard herself say.
“Primus only knows. I think we got to him in time. They’ll take him back to Iacon; Ratchet’s bound to be able to fix him up.”
“Hope so.”
“All part of the job kid.”
“Sucks tailpipe though.”
“Yep. Next?” He waited for Tracer to identify the next casualty in their immediate vicinity. Scanning carefully she pointed, stepping quickly over scrunched metal that used to be buildings to reach the signal.
“Buried...” She murmured, stopping suddenly.
“Slag.” Between them they managed to clear away enough of the rubble so that they could access and assess the injured mech. No sooner had they cleared the debris than the mech. came up shooting. Rollback barely managed to push Tracer out of the line of fire as the mech. climbed out and tore past them.
“That’s one determined fighter.” Tracer remarked, standing up and staring after him.
“They’re hardwired that way.” Rollback shrugged. “They don’t know nothing else. Built for battle and war.” He continued in a slightly bitter tone.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
They were always the last to leave the battlefield; Search and Rescue turning into Search and Recovery. Occasionally they found mechs still functioning, but more often than not they collected the deactivated; the materials being needed in the repair bays.
The mood back at their small base was always more sombre after they’d been called out to help. They sat together, huddled tightly, trying to draw comfort from one another. Presence was everything. It was worse if one of them got caught in the cross fire, landing themselves in Ratchet’s repair bay. It meant an extended stay at Iacon for all of them, as they refused to leave without the full team. It was accepted and understood without question. It didn’t, however, stop them pacing in the corridor outside the repair bay, waiting to hear that they wouldn’t need a replacement team member.
The first time Tracer found herself sitting in the corridor watching Inferno pace was when Red Alert had caught a stray laser blast to his chest. Too close to his spark chamber, he’d had off-lined almost immediately, leaving the command of the team in Inferno’s hands. Rollback had been called back to do what he could until they could leave and Tracer had found herself paired with Kicker and forced to carry on.
The second time, Tracer paced the corridor behind Inferno. It was Kicker that was lying in stasis inside, cut down by laser fire from a strafing run by Decepticon tetrajets.
“Ain’t your fault kid.”
“I was meant to be watching the skies while he worked!”
“You and Red both. He ain’t blaming himself, so neither should you.” Tracer gave Inferno a look that clearly said ‘I don’t believe you’ and pointedly stared at where Red Alert sat slumped against the wall, Firestar crouching beside him and whispering softly.
“’Kay, point taken kid. Some things can’t be helped.” He flicked one of her ‘ears’ gently and was rewarded with a clout in the thigh. The resounding clang that echoed down the corridor masked the sound of the doors to the repair bay sliding open.
“Okay, so you finally managed it. I owe you ten units of high-grade Inferno.”
“Kicker!” Abandoning all attempts at dignity and ignoring the bet and the residual pain running down from her sensors Tracer launched herself at Kicker.
“Watch it there kid.”
“Glad you’re okay.”
“I’ll always be okay. You need someone to keep teasing you.”
“And you need someone to keep beating your aft in races.”
“Watch it kitty-cat, or I’ll be the one flicking those ears next.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Wouldn’t I?”
“Yeah, you would… always said you were one microchip short of a processor.” The friendly insults continued while they were airlifted back to their base.
Tracer fervently hoped there wouldn’t be a third time.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
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Searchin' Part Three