“Prowl-” Ironhide gasped, seeing that this mech was much like the armies leading tactician. “Listen mech, ya need a medic, ya need to be looked over. If you want ta eliminate the Decepticons, it would be easier and faster if ya were in one piece, ya know?”
Orns came and went as the mech hobbled along. Not bothering to stop in any place for more than a few joors, and every city he hit he bought his energon and practically ran out of there. Going as fast as possible to not be caught.
Who knew who was a con in disguise and who wasn’t anymore? He sure didn’t.
Entering Iacon he limped his way to the recruitment center. He had a long time to think on how best to get the seekers that had destroyed his home back, and came to the conclusion it was Megatron that had to pay, the seekers were but Pawns with a rook to lead them. Starscream might have to be taken down along with his knights of a trine.
Ironhide gawped at the energon covered mech. It was dried and caked over almost all of his torn up frame. He watched as the mech signed his glyph, took a packet to fill out, and started to limp off. “Primus- your back!” He stood up and the chair screeched as it dragged. “Your wings- they’re gone! Someone get ratchet! We have a praxian survivor! He needs immediate medical treatment! Hurry!”
Ironhide moved over to the mech, sending a list of all obvious injuries to Ratchet and trying to convince the mech to sit down and rest. “I will not rest until the Decepticons are no more.” Mistwatch promised and looked at Ironhide with a will few others could ever have. Nothing would deter this mech, nothing at all. No loss of home, frame, or life would stop him until his spark was gone.
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