Primus Monologue

It was by chance that he found him, a convergence so carefully orchestrated by fate's guiding hand.

And he would thank Primus' intervention for it, if only on his behalf as well.

For he would not have come across him then, in the ruins of the eastern end toward Rodion, if he had not received that message late last cycle. His unknown informant, some benevolent angel, through crypted comms and heavy static had told him of a shipment, packed with energon, which would stop by the boarder city before continuing to its ultimate destination up north. If he had not decided to set out the next morning, before the light broke the horizon, to follow the tip, no one would have discovered him. And anyone else wouldn’t have cared.

But he did; Primus'
Every joint ached with a numbness that went past pain, and he tried not to dwell on what the pin-prick feeling regions meant. Instead he looked at his back that had turned to attend to his new patient.

" Don't worry about me," he expelled in a burst of air, more pain than he wanted bleeding into his words. He didn't matter right now, his ailments could wait. What mattered was the mech being synced up to the repair bay, and the vitals on the monitor that fluctuated all over the place. His core temperature stayed red-lined, and the machine barely picked up his weak spark beats and overworked fuel cycles.

He tried, and failed miserably, not to get choked up. But now, with nothing more to do but just sit around and wait, no task or purpose but watching, it was hard not to face the thought. The thought that this mech may very well die on that table in front of him, despite his good intentions.

And despite how many times he had seen it.

He barely heard himself croak in a soft voice, " Try ...." all of his aspirations making his voice small and heavy. Red hands paused in their administration, a syringe pressed to a grungy, exposed fuel