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“Hey little guy.” Jazz crouched down beside the mechanimal, scanning it quickly and feeding it though the first aid program Ratchet had made everyone install. The animal, a crystal condor maybe, squawked and flapped its wings weakly. “Easy there, I’m just here to help.”
Help, if he could. Send it off mercifully if he couldn’t. The poor animal didn’t deserve to suffer if it was beyond saving.
His first aid program returned a result a klik later, as he kept speaking soothingly to the bird. Critically low fuel, not surprising, and a mostly-healed burn along its abdomen. Some good energon and a few days rest someplace safe, and it would be good to go.
Jazz smiled, and opened a comm line. Hey, Hound! What’s the best way to pick up a condor to bring it in for rehab?
-_-_-_-_-
“She’s doing incredibly well, Jazz.” Hound leaned back, letting the crystal condor flap her wings and squawk at him indignantly. “You’ll probably be able to release her in another couple of days.”
“That’s great.” Jazz grinned. “She’s been good company, but I ain’t exactly equipped for long term care.”
“Not many of us are, these days. But I’m glad you were willing to take her in when Mirage didn’t have space for her.”
“Well, she needed help, and I’m not the kind of mech to ignore a lady in trouble.”
-_-_-_-_-_-
When the house had caught fire–or more accurately, when he realized it was burning and the fire was already beyond his control–Jazz just had time to run to the condor’s cage and open it. The condor had cried in fear as Jazz started to reach for her, then the ceiling collapsed and everything went black.
When he woke, there was a red and white emergency services mech putting a bandage on his arm and the condor was curled up between his shoulder and his cheek and croaking in a way that he thought was meant to be soothing. “What happened?”
“Your house caught fire, along with most of the block. And you’re all lucky, because your bird there came and found me and attacked me every time I tried to go somewhere that wasn’t here.” The emergency mech gave him a rueful smile. “Guided me right into the fire to get you, too. She saved your life.”
“Seems fair.” Jazz reached up with his good–well, less burned anyway–arm and scratched whichever part of her he could reach. With the way she was sitting, he couldn’t even tell where he was touching her. “Since I saved hers first.”