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Description
Transformers Fanfic Series
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Episode 0a: Welcome to Nowhere
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"Maximus Command Base, this is Hoist, awaiting orders," said a British-sounding voice, as the green Autobot doctor walked towards the rocky canyon before him. No response came to him through his built-in radio interface.

"Maximus Command base, this is Hoist, please respond; we have arrived at the designated location."

Still no response.

"Command, this is Hoist. Please switch to secure channel – "

"– Medical officer Hoist, this is Maximus Command, we read you," came a feminine response.

A surprised expression came across Hoist's face as he heard the radio. "Nightbird? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me Hoist," Nightbird responded casually. "I'm deciding to take a break from my infiltration missions, and thought I'd get some working hours in, so I'm standing in for Cosmos while he's in repair bay."

"Oh, right. I remember, he got in that fight with…yes. Well, I'm reporting in that I've arrived at the Autobot Outpost on Utolea, and I'm standing by for mission objectives."
"Roger that," Nightbird replied. "Stand by for instructions…"

As Hoist waited for his orders, he took some time to survey his surroundings. Utolea used to be an important point for both the Decepticons and the Autobots in the war – it provided a useful place to harvest Energon from the nearby stellar nursery, using energy from newborn suns. The Cybertronians fought long and hard to obtain the Energon production facilities on the planet. But now, millions of years later, the last of the stars had been born; the nursery was now just a cluster of small suns, floating in the galaxy, and as such, the facilities became useless. Nowadays, Utolea was a barren, rocky world, with no important point in either side. Yet both sides were too afraid to pull out, and so a few teams were left on the planet, to keep it contested.

"Medical officer Hoist, your mission is as follows," the radio said, snapping Hoist out of his observations. Hoist immediately responded, "Maximus Command, awaiting orders."

"The local Autobot forces here have reported several injuries in a fight with Decepticon forces. Your mission is to make contact with their commanding officer, and help any way you can."

"Roger that, Command. I'll make contact with the Autobot base, and remain here for as long as I'm needed. Anything else I might need to know before proceeding with the mission?"

"Nnnnope, not that I can see. Good luck out there, Hoist."

"Thanks, Nightbird, and don't let Huffer's mithering get to you, alright?"

Nightbird chuckled on the other end of the line. "Got it, Hoist. Command, out."

And with that, the radio shut off. So, apparently things here aren't as lifeless as I had originally thought, Hoist thought, as he transformed into his vehicle form, and began to look for the Autobot's base.

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After several astro-minutes, Hoist finally came upon the image of a run-down base with the Autobot insignia on the front. "Finally, we're here," Hoist cheered to himself, as he drove towards the old, worn structure.
As he approached, he saw three figures in front of the base, which he presumed to be the local Autobots assigned to this outpost. One was tall, bulky, colored black and orange, and at first reminded Hoist of the Autobot Ironhide. The other two – a brown one and a blue one – were smaller, and seemed to be arguing amongst each other. The brownish-orange one seemed to be made of rusty scrap metal, and looked like he would crumble apart at the slightest touch. The blue one was more normal and healthy-looking, yet seemed to be the angry one.

As Hoist neared the group, he overheard a bit of their conversation.
"…does he have to always use the essential pieces, man?" shouted the blue one in frustration.

"The holidays are weeks away, and you need to be sure to get what you want!" answered the walking junk-former, in an odd accent. "Supplies are limited, but all displays are free and open to the public!"

"I don't disagree that your 'artwork' is useless, Grimble," replied the blue one again. "All I'm saying is that I wish you wouldn't use my research equipment to make them!"

"Grimble says, with artistic ingenuity, it's never been easier to turn your old, unwanted, or broken machinery and devices into WONDERFUL works of art, for the world to see!"

"Just because I'm not using them at the moment doesn't mean I'll never need them!"

Finally, the larger Autobot spoke up. "Grimble," he said, in a gruff but kind-sounding tone, "I have to agree with Beachcomber on this one. While I do enjoy your attempts to make our surroundings more pleasant and decorative, it's not a good thing to use our supplies and equipment – especially to recycle them into your art – without asking for our permission first."

Grimble sighed, and asked, "Will the customer prefer to review before products are manufactured?"

"Yes, ask us before you make your artwork. It's polite to ask to use something before you use it."

The rusty transformer straightened up, saluted, and replied, "If you aren't satisfied with our product, ship it back for a full refund!" He then transformed into a cube-like vehicle, and raced in the base just as Hoist pulled up and transformed. The blue one, whom he assumed was the one referred to as "Beachcomber", noticed him and said, "Uh, sir? We seem to have company." The large black-and-orange Autobot turned to meet Hoist, and said in a welcoming voice, "Ah, I'm sorry. We had a slight problem with our local artistic scout. Uh, can I help you with something?"

Hoist straightened himself, and stated, "My name is Hoist. I'm here to respond to your call for medical assistance. May I speak to the commander of this outpost?"

"Medical assistance?" Beachcomber said. "That was a whole stellar cycle ago; not to seem rude, but what took you so long?"

"We encountered some Decepticon interference; we came as fast as we could."

"My name is Trailblazer," said the bulky cybertronian, "and I'm filling in for our commander. If you're wanting to speak with Rodimus, try the steel marker behind you."

Hoist turned confusedly to see a steel plate embedded in the ground, with the Autobot logo on top. In cybertronian language, it read, "Here lies Rodimus, commander and noble leader of his troops. May his spark rest in peace."

"Oh," Hoist said, suddenly registering what Trailblazer had meant. "I'm...sorry I was too late."

"It's alright, you did your best," Trailblazer said. "Like they say, death is always around the corner – it's just that sometimes our society gives it inordinate help."

Hoist chuckled some at this, and commented, "Well, I'm glad to see everyone seems to be alright. Is there any way we can be of assistance?"

Trailblazer paused before answering, "Well, not at the moment, but are you going to be leaving right away? I mean, we don't have a medic stationed here, and I'm not entirely sure whether or not we'll be able to call for help if something else happens."

Hoist thought for a moment. "Hmm…well, my immediate mission was to help out here any way that I can, and I think being your team's medical officer could count as "helping", so I think I can stay."

"Whoo-hoo!" cheered Beachcomber, "We got a medic!"

"Actually," corrected Hoist, "I'm technically a doctor."

"Is there a difference?"

"As a matter of fact, there is."

"Okay, okay," Trailblazer said, stepping in between the two of them, "let's just stop right here before things get too crazy. Hoist, welcome to the team; it's good to have you. Beachcomber, would you happen to have some free time?"

Beachcomber sighed. "If I didn't have to find a new XRD Scope, I would, but unless either Grimble somehow fixes the one he took, or I can order a new one, I'm gonna be busy for a while."

"Well," said the Autobot commander, turning towards Hoist, "then I guess I'll be your tour guide, Hoist. I'll show you around the base, and tell you about some of the things that happen around here."

"Jolly good, sir," Hoist replied, following the Autobot commander inside the base. This will be a long stay, he thought, so it would be good to be prepared for any madness that might lie in the future.
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Description
Transformers Fanfic Series
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Episode 0a: Welcome to Nowhere
-

"Maximus Command Base, this is Hoist, awaiting orders," said a British-sounding voice, as the green Autobot doctor walked towards the rocky canyon before him. No response came to him through his built-in radio interface.

"Maximus Command base, this is Hoist, please respond; we have arrived at the designated location."

Still no response.

"Command, this is Hoist. Please switch to secure channel – "

"– Medical officer Hoist, this is Maximus Command, we read you," came a feminine response.

A surprised expression came across Hoist's face as he heard the radio. "Nightbird? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me Hoist," Nightbird responded casually. "I'm deciding to take a break from my infiltration missions, and thought I'd get some working hours in, so I'm standing in for Cosmos while he's in repair bay."

"Oh, right. I remember, he got in that fight with…yes. Well, I'm reporting in that I've arrived at the Autobot Outpost on Utolea, and I'm standing by for mission objectives."
"Roger that," Nightbird replied. "Stand by for instructions…"

As Hoist waited for his orders, he took some time to survey his surroundings. Utolea used to be an important point for both the Decepticons and the Autobots in the war – it provided a useful place to harvest Energon from the nearby stellar nursery, using energy from newborn suns. The Cybertronians fought long and hard to obtain the Energon production facilities on the planet. But now, millions of years later, the last of the stars had been born; the nursery was now just a cluster of small suns, floating in the galaxy, and as such, the facilities became useless. Nowadays, Utolea was a barren, rocky world, with no important point in either side. Yet both sides were too afraid to pull out, and so a few teams were left on the planet, to keep it contested.

"Medical officer Hoist, your mission is as follows," the radio said, snapping Hoist out of his observations. Hoist immediately responded, "Maximus Command, awaiting orders."

"The local Autobot forces here have reported several injuries in a fight with Decepticon forces. Your mission is to make contact with their commanding officer, and help any way you can."

"Roger that, Command. I'll make contact with the Autobot base, and remain here for as long as I'm needed. Anything else I might need to know before proceeding with the mission?"

"Nnnnope, not that I can see. Good luck out there, Hoist."

"Thanks, Nightbird, and don't let Huffer's mithering get to you, alright?"

Nightbird chuckled on the other end of the line. "Got it, Hoist. Command, out."

And with that, the radio shut off. So, apparently things here aren't as lifeless as I had originally thought, Hoist thought, as he transformed into his vehicle form, and began to look for the Autobot's base.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

After several astro-minutes, Hoist finally came upon the image of a run-down base with the Autobot insignia on the front. "Finally, we're here," Hoist cheered to himself, as he drove towards the old, worn structure.
As he approached, he saw three figures in front of the base, which he presumed to be the local Autobots assigned to this outpost. One was tall, bulky, colored black and orange, and at first reminded Hoist of the Autobot Ironhide. The other two – a brown one and a blue one – were smaller, and seemed to be arguing amongst each other. The brownish-orange one seemed to be made of rusty scrap metal, and looked like he would crumble apart at the slightest touch. The blue one was more normal and healthy-looking, yet seemed to be the angry one.

As Hoist neared the group, he overheard a bit of their conversation.
"…does he have to always use the essential pieces, man?" shouted the blue one in frustration.

"The holidays are weeks away, and you need to be sure to get what you want!" answered the walking junk-former, in an odd accent. "Supplies are limited, but all displays are free and open to the public!"

"I don't disagree that your 'artwork' is useless, Grimble," replied the blue one again. "All I'm saying is that I wish you wouldn't use my research equipment to make them!"

"Grimble says, with artistic ingenuity, it's never been easier to turn your old, unwanted, or broken machinery and devices into WONDERFUL works of art, for the world to see!"

"Just because I'm not using them at the moment doesn't mean I'll never need them!"

Finally, the larger Autobot spoke up. "Grimble," he said, in a gruff but kind-sounding tone, "I have to agree with Beachcomber on this one. While I do enjoy your attempts to make our surroundings more pleasant and decorative, it's not a good thing to use our supplies and equipment – especially to recycle them into your art – without asking for our permission first."

Grimble sighed, and asked, "Will the customer prefer to review before products are manufactured?"

"Yes, ask us before you make your artwork. It's polite to ask to use something before you use it."

The rusty transformer straightened up, saluted, and replied, "If you aren't satisfied with our product, ship it back for a full refund!" He then transformed into a cube-like vehicle, and raced in the base just as Hoist pulled up and transformed. The blue one, whom he assumed was the one referred to as "Beachcomber", noticed him and said, "Uh, sir? We seem to have company." The large black-and-orange Autobot turned to meet Hoist, and said in a welcoming voice, "Ah, I'm sorry. We had a slight problem with our local artistic scout. Uh, can I help you with something?"

Hoist straightened himself, and stated, "My name is Hoist. I'm here to respond to your call for medical assistance. May I speak to the commander of this outpost?"

"Medical assistance?" Beachcomber said. "That was a whole stellar cycle ago; not to seem rude, but what took you so long?"

"We encountered some Decepticon interference; we came as fast as we could."

"My name is Trailblazer," said the bulky cybertronian, "and I'm filling in for our commander. If you're wanting to speak with Rodimus, try the steel marker behind you."

Hoist turned confusedly to see a steel plate embedded in the ground, with the Autobot logo on top. In cybertronian language, it read, "Here lies Rodimus, commander and noble leader of his troops. May his spark rest in peace."

"Oh," Hoist said, suddenly registering what Trailblazer had meant. "I'm...sorry I was too late."

"It's alright, you did your best," Trailblazer said. "Like they say, death is always around the corner – it's just that sometimes our society gives it inordinate help."

Hoist chuckled some at this, and commented, "Well, I'm glad to see everyone seems to be alright. Is there any way we can be of assistance?"

Trailblazer paused before answering, "Well, not at the moment, but are you going to be leaving right away? I mean, we don't have a medic stationed here, and I'm not entirely sure whether or not we'll be able to call for help if something else happens."

Hoist thought for a moment. "Hmm…well, my immediate mission was to help out here any way that I can, and I think being your team's medical officer could count as "helping", so I think I can stay."

"Whoo-hoo!" cheered Beachcomber, "We got a medic!"

"Actually," corrected Hoist, "I'm technically a doctor."

"Is there a difference?"

"As a matter of fact, there is."

"Okay, okay," Trailblazer said, stepping in between the two of them, "let's just stop right here before things get too crazy. Hoist, welcome to the team; it's good to have you. Beachcomber, would you happen to have some free time?"

Beachcomber sighed. "If I didn't have to find a new XRD Scope, I would, but unless either Grimble somehow fixes the one he took, or I can order a new one, I'm gonna be busy for a while."

"Well," said the Autobot commander, turning towards Hoist, "then I guess I'll be your tour guide, Hoist. I'll show you around the base, and tell you about some of the things that happen around here."

"Jolly good, sir," Hoist replied, following the Autobot commander inside the base. This will be a long stay, he thought, so it would be good to be prepared for any madness that might lie in the future.
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