She was so slagged.

Glancing over her shoulder, the femme fired off another round at the Decepticon. The mech seemed dead set on hunting her down and offlining her himself, no signs of a team in sight.

Growling, she leapt over debris, dodging the stray shots that were being returned, wondering where the Pit her backup had disappeared to. Most of her communications links were down: jammed up by something or other that was entirely the fault of the thrice slagged Decepticons.

Another shot connected with a wing, and she stifled an instinctive screech of pain as she stumbled. However, she still had enough of a lead on the slagger of a Decepticon that she could recover the ground lost with little difficulty, though she knew that her concentration would be thrown from this point on. All of the delicate nerve endings in her wings meant that she was left vulnerable to any attack that was specifically meant to harm her, and obviously this slagger wasn't one of the newer recruits who still had doubts about taking down a door-winger by taking out said door-wings.

Double slag.

The situation was really beginning to look like she could get in a lot of trouble if her backup didn't show up soon. She going to be cornered if she kept this up, but Pit be fragged if she was about to let the Decepticon catch her. She knew exactly what would happen to her if she did. She could see the evidence littered around the abandoned city, in the optics of the mechs that had struck down her Creators, her friends.

Although she was smaller than most of the mechs in the Autobot faction, she was still unusually large for a femme, and definitely bulkier in build. She was a warrior femme, and it was something that she knew would never change.

Venting deeply, considering the speeds she was travelling at, she allowed herself to go into a calculating state. It wasnj't as if she didn't have a battle processing part of her processor- actually, it was quite the opposite. She had something similar to what could be defined as a 'secondary state' of her battle processor. Most mechs and femmes alike knew that nothing good ever came from her going into the contemplative state. The look that went across her faceplates always spelled out chaos and destruction- all with a smug smirk.

Taking in as much data as she could from her limited scans, she could tell that there were no other Cybertronian signatures within miles of their location. It was odd, considering that she could have sworn that they had just been in civilization. Though the civilization that she knew now was that of war and pain. There was likely no assistance coming because her signature was too far away for any of her allies to pick up, leading her to believe that her opponent wasn't all brawn. He obvioulsy knew how to plan out an efficient attack, and she was his target. But she was fairly certain that this mech didn't know who she was. Her reputation had by now spread pretty far across Cybertron, and the markings on her armor usually alerted any Cybertronia who she was.

:: Autobot Blacklight requesting backup to these coordinates. Emergency Response Team Delta- what is your location? :: she opened her comm. link, hoping that she was far enough away from whatever was jamming up her communications so that her team would be able to recieve her transmission and actually be able to respond.

There was silence, followed by static. She had to still be within the radius of the Pit spawned device. Hopefully, she would be hearing back from her team. Meaning that soon, her team would hopefully be able to pinpoint a location and get this 'Con off her aft.

:: -Light, can you hear me? ::

:: You have no idea how happy I am to hear your obnoxious voice, Rig. ::

:: You wound me Light, you really do! ::

:: Speaking of wounded...HURRY UP AND COME GET THIS SLAGGING PIECE OF GLITCHING DECEPTICON OFF MY AFT BEFORE I LOSE SAID AFT! ::

:: Already on it, lovely Light of my spark. Expect to see Blurr rescue you any time now. ::

Before Blacklight could retort, the familiar light blue armor of the mech she was hoping to see barreled into the Decepticon that had been chasing her with cannons armed, taking them both through an abandoned building with ease. There were sounds of a scuffle for several moments before silence fell.

Blacklight slowed before turning back, her faceplates raised in a questioning glance.

Skating back to the rather large hole in the wall, she watched as Blurr woozily pulled himself to his pedes, looking a little worse for wear but otherwise unharmed.

"Y'know, when you make a hole, you really make a hole. However, might I suggest you use your cannons first next time?" she suggested with a hint of a smile, going to cross her arms before hissing.

"Awwww, where's the fun in that, Light? I mean, think about it- even though the cannons could possibly maybe work it wouldn't mean that it would work necessarily. Right?"

"I hope you realize that I wasn't even listening to you just then, Blurr." she grunted out, suddenly alerted to the pain that was jolting through her frame. "I'm a little distracted right now."

:: Hey, Light. How're you doing on your end? :: another, definitely more calm tone asked over the comm. link. :: Hit any troubles? ::

:: Nice to hear from you too, Padlock. I'll have you know that I'm still in one piece, albeit in pain. Thanks for asking. :: Blacklight snorted. :: My wing hurts like slag. ::

:: Let me guess- you managed to let him get you. ::

:: I didn't let him do anything and you know it! :: she protested hotly, huffing in annoyance. :: It's like somebot painted a target on them or something. ::

:: For all you know, there very well could have been somebot who did. :: the mech pointed out with vague amusement. :: You do tend to be a little vague in the processing department. ::

:: You know what? Slag you. How are we even related? ::

:: Well, when a mech and a femme love each other very much... ::

:: I know HOW it works, you dumbaft. Stop trying to get one up on me. ::

:: As if it's all that difficult. :: he replied dryly.

:: I hate you with all my spark. ::

:: Love you too. Just remember that I'm the one who's going to be fixing you up. ::

"...Light, are you even listening to me?" Blurr waved his servo in front of the femme's optics quickly, making it that much harder to prove that she had actually heard him talking at his supersonic speeds. Her optics couldn't move quite that fast, and Blurr was definitely living up to his name as a fast paced mech.

"Not really, Blurr." she admitted. "My wing is throbbing, and the annoying mech I call my sibling is't helping."

"Oh." Blurr shuttered his optics for a moment.

Blacklight vented heavily before opening an arm for the smaller 'bot to sneak under, and he did so eagerly, pressing himself against her uninjured side before stilling. The femme couldn't help but feel her spark swell at the trust that Blurr put into her for him to recharge here, of all places. The poor mechling was still practically a Sparkling, far too young in her optics to be fighting in this war. But she couldn't protest against it. All of the Autobots had lost at least one mech or femme to the Decepticons, and all of them had a reason to fight.

:: Lock, you want to hurry up? Blurr's exhausted, and I'm considering going into forced recharge to get rid of this fragging pain. ::

:: Hold on, Light. We're coming. ::

Blacklight felt the gentle wave of comfort flow through their bond, and though he didn't say anything through it, she didn't need him to. It was simply enough for him to comfort her after these missions. It was her way of coping with the pain that she went through when injured. Her brother was always there for her, even though he had the issue of being an aft at times.

:: I know. ::

:: Hold on. Rigger's decided he wants to try and frag around with the Medic. :: Padlock chuckled darkly. :: Excuse me while I correct him in his thought processes. ::

Blacklight laughed before wincing, not even bothering to look at the wound on her wing. She could only imagine what it looked like now. Wires torn, energon spilling from their ragged ends...

She didn't want to look. She'd seen it often enough before since the war had begun. It certainly wasn't the first time a Decepticon had gone after her wings, and she was sure that it wouldn't be the last.

:: Light, call off your psycho brother! He's trying to dissemble my wings! ::

:: You're on your own. I'm injured. ::

:: How's that even related to this? :: Rigger protested before a static yelp came over the private link. :: Slag it, Blacklight! I'm gonna get you for this! ::

:: I'd like to see you try. Padlock will make you into a new set of wrenches for Ratchet. ::

:: Ugh. Ratchet. ::

Blacklight could hear the shudder in the mech's words, but she didn't really care. She was being lulled by the gentle venting and heat that was coming off of Blurr into recharge, despite her wing injury.

:: Hey Lock...can I recharge yet? ::

:: Not yet, Light. Hold on a little longer. ::

:: Mkay.. ::

:: I mean it, sister. ::

:: Uh huh. You said that last time. ::

:: And I meant it! ::

:: Admit it, Lock. You're soft. :: Blacklight hummed, looking up at the sky. The pain of her wing was increasing, making her wince as Blurr shifted in recharge. She didn't want to wake the Youngling. He'd done his duty for the day and now all he needed was to get a good recharge before the next war filled day began.

She tuned out her brother as he continued to rant at her, instead focusing on the Decepticon's frame. The mech had had a family, comrades, despite what the other Autobots might think. Ironhide in particular, she'd heard, was against anything that even smelled like 'Con.

:: Hey Light...I see you. ::

:: Frag off, Rig. ::

:: That wing really hurts, doesn't it? You're not usually this glitchy. ::

:: Yes, my wing hurts. And yes, yes I am. It's not my fault your optics don't work right. ::

:: You know, I'm really considering quitting this team. ::

:: You know you wouldn't. I know you wouldn't. Pit, even Blurr knows you wouldn't. ::

:: Battle programs still up and running? ::

:: Yep. ::

:: Thought so. ::

:: Coming in for landing, oh mighty leader. ::

Blacklight onlined her optics, seeing the familiar yellow and red pattern of armor on Rigger's lithe frame. Not far behind came Padlock, who transformed up into his bipedal mode.

"You make Blurr online, and I swear to Primus you will regret it." she warned, seeing the familiar look of dark glee in Rigger's optics. He waved her off with a servo vaguely, looking rather amused with the whole situation.

"Your usual threats can't work on me today, Light. You're injured. What're you gonna do, sic your brother on me?"

"Actually...that's exactly what I'm going to do." Blacklight smiled serenely. A moment later, Padlock's servo struck, leaving a dent in the side of Rigger's helm. Reeling back, Rigger went to yell something, but with a second glance to the recharging Blurr, decided against it. He was glitched, not suicidal.

Padlock paced around Blacklight before groaning. "Light, what did he do to you? Use an energon blast cannon?"

"Actually...I think he did..." Blacklight replied, letting out a low whine as Padlock prodded what seemed to be the most damaged part of her wing. Through their bond, she could feel Padlock's sudden protectiveness and his annoyance, to which she returned with a sheepish touch.

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

"Can we go yet?" Rigger whined.

"Only if you're interested in carrying her back to base." Padlock replied neutrally.

"If it means we can get the Pit outta here, then sure."

The mech took several steps back before transforming back down into his alt-mode, some sort of giant Cybertronian carrier plane that had just enough room for the femme, and opened up the doors for Padlock to load her in.

"Blurr.." Blacklight poked at the 'bots faceplate. "We've got to get going..time to get up..."

Blurr, contrary to what Rigger and several other Autobots thought, was actually very slow when he onlined from recharge. It was one of the few times that he actually slowed down.

"Okay.." he vented, getting up before doing a couple jumps, stretching out his sore spots. After that, he was back to being his usual self.

Unfortunately for Padlock.

Blacklight didn't pity the mechs at all as she slowly made her way into Rigger's interior, shuddering as the doors closed and left her in the dark. She couldn't say that she was particularly fond of it, something that she was sure she had inherited with her door-wings. Most door-wingers in general didn't like small, dark spaces. Probably because there was partial Seeker coding in their processors, and it was activated whenever situations such as these arose.

"I hope you realize if I panic I'm going to rip you apart to do so, Rig." she warned, settling in for recharge.

"Lucky me." Rigger retorted sarcastically.