Desert: Quick Pickup

[Hellbender]

Singe barks, //Spinister's down and out!//

Hairsplitter adds, //Extraction would be helpful.//

// Give me your coordinates, or dance a jig in 0.75 Cybertronian time. Either works, // growls Hellbender.

//It is 3/4 time. Really,// Hairsplitter corrects, sniffing, //and there is indeed a difference.//

Singe growls out some coordinates that indicate the outer perimeter of the black fire.

Hellbender chews through the earth and emerges from the crater wall, near where Spinister lays. The crater wall isn't a vertical cliff here, but a steep slope of broken rock. The mining worm transforms, armor opening and sliding back to become wing-like shells half surrounding Hellbender's robotic form. His shoulder gun whirrs softly as it slews around, looking for targets.

Fortunately, Spinister is easy to find--garish teal and pink against dark, broken lava. Hellbender steps gingerly over that way--it wouldn't do to step on the Mayhem's guns.

"Guns, show yourselves," Hellbender rumbles as he stoops over Spinister, checking his damages.

[Spinister]

"Do I call you worm?" Hairsplitter needles, none-too-pleased at being address by 'Guns' collectively with Singe.

Hairsplitter and Singe stand near Spinister, using his body as cover.

Spinister is out cold. His surface damages show extensive burning. His paint has been scorched clean off in most parts, showing metal and badly burned composites, and there is melting and fusing at some of the seams. One can assume that he isn't dead, if only because his guns are up and griping, rather than unconscious, dead, or gibbering.

[Hellbender]

Spinister does not look good, but at least no essential body parts are falling off. Hellbender's knowledge of field repair is... non-existent, so he just takes care as he crouches beside the fallen sniper and carefully lifts him.

"No, because you surely do like staying healthy," Hellbender replies. "Ah could call you 'fleshling' or 'squishy', or maybe 'Hey you'--or Ah could waste valuable seconds while Spinister is leakin' tryin' to figure which ones o' the bunch you and the other little fella are. You figured out who I meant right quick. Now, you can either git back in your holsters while I take Spinister to the repair station, or you can ride--er, on my shoulder." Dang it, he didn't have a cockpit anymore! "Pick one, and quick."

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OOC: Lifting done by permission.

[Spinister]

Hairsplitter harrumphs and crosses his arms. Singe just glares. Then, Hairsplitter ventures, "You would not be so dismissive if Spinister was awake."

Singe notes, slowly, "Y'know. You just nixed our chances of getting a ride."

They transform and return to their holsters.

Spinister continues to be unconscious. La la la, he is a sniper.

[Hellbender]

Hellbender favors Hairsplitter with a glare. "Don't reckon you'd be that rude if Spinister was awake, neither. Now quit testin' mah patience!"

Since the little men are now safe in their holsters, attached to Spinister, that solves the problem of recovering them. Hellbender, unless someone is so foolish as to interfere, flies off with the heavily-damaged Spinister cradled in his arms.

Seems like he's doing a lot that lately--recovering battered Decepticons. More than he should; this is a tough battle, and Hellbender ought to be in there fighting. Why is Shockwave holding him back?

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Out-of-thread to deposit Spinister at the repair depot, unless interfered with