Beast Wars - Tech Spec Canon

Discussion in 'Transformers Fan Fiction' started by peteynorth, Sep 4, 2007.

  1. peteynorth

    peteynorth TFW2005 Supporter

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    Anyone who has read the tech spec bios for the initial Beast Wars waves knows that the writers of these and the writers of the cartoon weren't on the same page. So while bored I decided to start a story that could fit with these tech spec bios (1996 & 1997). Like everything else I do, this will likely go unfinished.


    Chapter 1

    He was fortunate to have such a home. It was a sentiment that had been fed to him his entire life, ever since his mother had managed to get hired on as a housekeeper and caretaker for the master of the house. It wasn't an out and out lie, Nick's life would have seemed charmed by 90 percent of the human population around the world; or at least he believed it would be. The fact was that ever since the age of mutation and the wars that followed, news from other parts of the world was in short supply. But the assumption that living on this compound, well fed, well educated, in good health and secure in knowing that he would not likely be cast out made his life far better than those of most others regardless of what portion of Earth they resided in was by no means outlandish, even now as he was stepping outside the security of the estate's electified perimeter fence.

    Nick Cavidge had been brought up to be a respectful and well-mannered young man by his mother, and would likely have been grateful to the man who had taken them in had he not firmly believed that this man played a large part in the current status of the planet. Like virtually everything else in the world during the 30's, all global interconnected information webs had been destroyed; just one of several calamities that defined the period, a period which initiated the downward spiral that the planet had been in ever since. So a great deal of the world's history was inaccessible to anyone who did not have access to this history in written form; and after the wars, there wasn't much of that left either. But there were those at the compound who claimed to know the history of the old man, the true history and not just the tales depicting him as Earth's savior.

    The man had always been a scientific prodigy, though the story didn't really start until about eleven decades ago, when he was already in his fifties. The planet was besieged by an alien war waged between different factions of giant robotic lifeforms capable of altering their shape to mimic objects common to the planet. According to the stories, the master of the house had entered into a pact with the more aggressive of the alien factions to provide them with new technology. The details are sketchy, but the belief is that in return he expected dominion of Earth. Whether overcome by conscience or the belief that he himself would be betrayed, the master turned on the aliens. He was crippled in the process, and was coupled for the first time with cybernetic enhancements. It was the start of a series of couplings over the decades that has allowed him to more than double the life expectancy of men of his generation, and more than triple the current life span.

    It would be more than another two decades before he would unleash his vengeance upon these alien combatants. This vengeace took the form of a tecno-biological virus that brought these aliens low and left them at our mercy, both the aggressors and those that claimed to be our defenders. Most of the aliens managed to escape the planet back to their own world, though according to the stories, many of them were captured by the governments of the world. The stigma of traitor was immediately forgotten as the world embraced its new hero.

    According to the tales, it was during this post alien warfare age that the seeds of chaos were either being planted or coming into bloom. The toxins that mankind had been spewing into the atmosphere since the Industrial Revolution had been causing environmental changes that were coming to a head. Scientists and religious leaders had slowly been reversing their levels of power and respect, which had led to a much needed balance for decades, but by the mid 20's many scientists felt they could do no wrong, and that since the world had been rescued by a scientist, they deserved a wide berth when practicing what all but they saw as their religion. This godless age of science nurtured a reckless urge to breech frontiers long believed either impossible or unethical. These priests in labcoats saw the term impossible as nothing more than a challenge; the idea of ethics as something confined to fools bowing before invented dieties. These scientists quickly evolved beyond the role of priests in the temple of science and began playing god. Genetic science was wielded more indiscriminately than Zues's lightning bolt, as current animals became larger, smarter, stronger; as long extinct species returned to the earth; as entirely new species left the labs and began an existence that Mother Earth had not seen fit to give them herself.

    Only one thing was considered sacred; the genetic altering of humans. According to the tales, the belief at the time was that it was the scientists' commensing of such endeavors that brought it all to an end. Global warming finally went from an intense inconvenience to a biblical-level disaster. Storms ravaged the planet, water levels rose, The vast majority of the land not swallowed up by the oceans was either perpetually flooded or in a state of perpetual drought. Nick remembered seeing the tops of buildings jutting up from the center of the great sea as he and his mother had made their way here. She had told him that the submerged city had once been called Knoxville, and that her grandmother had fled it when the rivers first started spilling onto the streets.

    Given the horrific damage caused in such a relatively short time frame, one could reasonably assume that there would have been little the governments of the world could have done. Of course, had it not been for the Cybertronian plague mutating and attacking human computer networks, they'd have at least had a chance to do something. The techno-biological virus created by Nick's current benefactor, a virus created to save mankind, had turned on us and brought our already struggling civilizations to their knees. Vast communication networks were instantly rendered useless, people were dying in scores and not only were we unable to help them, but there was no way to alert their loved ones of their predicaments. From 2032 to 2039, the climate of the planet remained in a constant state of flux, and due to the emergence of new or previously extinct species, the ecology was as well. For the first time in countless centuries, human beings were now a prey species.

    But for some, this level of destruction was not enough. The United States had been the primary super-power for almost two centuries by that point, and the 'speak softly but carry a big stick' attitude that defined its foreign policy and garnered it world-wide respect in the early twentieth century had changed to 'be loud, opinionated and forceful, and brandish your big stick at anyone who glances at you sideways' by the early twenty-first century, which of course made many enemies and fostered a tremendous amount of resentment and fear among its allies. Like the rest of the world, the United States was left reeling by the attack of nature and the mutated computer virus, and its enemies scrambled to capitalized on this opportunity.

    Unable to launch missiles, suicide bombers detonated nuclear weapons in the hearts of several of the few surviving large American cities. Unable to conduct thorough investigations, the United States government commenced its retaliation based on assumptions and incomplete analysis, and sent teams of special forces units into the cities of its suspected enemies to plant even larger, more destructive weapons. In their defence, the American's probably guessed right about those nations that they attacked, but any chance of restoring the balance of the world was eliminated by these series of attacks. But at least the hostilities dwindled to conventional fighting, then to small arms skirmishes, and as each society seemed to be swallowed up by the myriad of other problems it faced, the fighting amounst ourselves slowly came to an end.

    Nick had heard these tales since childhood, and considered much of it true, but some aspects, especially those regarding the master as little more than myth. But whatever the actual truth may be, Doctor Archeville was little more than a head with decaying skin attached to a network of machinery, and they had just celebrated his 165th birthday a few weeks before. And he also had little doubt that Archeville wielded a tremendous amount of influence going into the age of mutation. Whatever the case, Cavidge's gut let him know that Archeville and his ilk had made the situation infinitely worse than it needed to be.

    Nick passed the large Cypress tree that marked the end of the relative safety offered by the compound's snipers and the beginning of the horrors that lay awaiting him in the dark reaches of the swamp. It was here, after weeks of traveling through sweltering swamps and keeping beasts of all sorts at bay with their dwindling ammunition that Nick thought they would be killed. The guards fired warning shots into the mud just inches from their feet and demanded that they turn back. Clothing and possessions from others that had come seeking sanctuary and who had refused to leave as ordered littered the ground around them, their remains having been removed by the scavenging monsters. It had been ten years since his mother had pleaded for the guards to allow she and her seven year old son entry, and had been fortunate enough that the previous caregiver to Dr. Archeville had recently passed away. Nick looked around and noted that the those seeking a safe place to live had stopped coming, but the opportunistic beasts still sat expectantly waiting for dinner. Above him sat a pair of pterosaurs, and in the water the eyes of an alligator peered up at him. Nick raised his uzi, he wasn't expecting them to attack, but he'd be a fool not to be ready.

    He approached the thick brush, and gripped his katana tightly, though he left it in its sheath. He stopped. Something didn't feel right. He stared intently into the leaves, but could discern nothing. He drew his katana and slowly stretched it forward to peel the leaves away to reveal the semi-clearing he knew to be beyond, keeping the uzi positioned forward to blast anything that could be waiting for him to riddled, lifeless pulp. Nothing. The teen pressed forward, he was uncharacteristically spooked, but he needed to earn his keep. Bannister, the sadistic jerk who also happened to be chief of security, wanted a large carnivore for his wedding feast tomorrow night, and it was Nick's job to kill the beast and either carry it back, or if it was too large, fire off a flare and defend the corpse until they could get a crew there to transport it. Nick's mother had passed away three years before, but as long as he proved himself to be a proficient hunter, his place was secure.

    Nick pressed through the foliage and caught sight of a utahraptor on the far end of the clearing picking at the corpse of a gigantopithicus. The giant raptor glanced up and caught site of the boy, but ignored him and returned to the far larger ape at his feet. Nick however was not going to live and let live. Maintaining his grip of the katana, the boy slipped the uzi over his shoulder. That gun was for his defense, it was the elephant rifle slung across his back that was to take down tomorrow's dinner. But for the moment both firearms were out of his hands, and the reason for his uneasy feeling emerged from the bushes to his right. A deinonychus leapt from a low hanging branch of the tree to his right. Though without firearm, Nick was far from helpless, and had trained for this sort of situation since he was seven. In a single, fluid motion Nick leapt forward, away from the dinosaur's attack, and swung back at the beast, slicing the slightly smaller raptor's belly open.

    The deinonychus landed on its feet, but did cry out in pain as it examined its wound. But the examination was quick as it spun to face its prey. The only thing the animal tasted though were the three rounds blasting through its mouth and out the back of its head. Nick watched the smaller raptor drop before jumping to his feet and aiming the uzi at the vastly larger utahraptor. The giant beast merely grunted its annoyance before continuing with its meal; the occurance of a mid-sized ape killing a mid-sized raptor in the presence of the largest of raptors killing the largest of natural apes seemed unworthy of his attention.

    Nick scanned his surroundings to be sure nothing else would come jumping out at him. He had been told that at the time these creatures were cloned back into existence, the general impression was that the raptor species would be pack hunters, but that proved not to be the case. But it never hurt to be sure. Nick once again stowed the uzi, and this time managed to get the hunting rifle out, as well as tossing a flare to the ground near his foot; this would something he'd definitely need help getting back to the compound. He smiled as he got the giant beast's head in his sights. Most animals, even mutations of chronically correct animals, had an ingraned fear of humans developed over the course of hundreds of generations. But these dinosaurs merely saw a small, harmless creature standing around; a prey species that was easy to catch. They didn't have the experience to know that the most deadly predator to ever set foot on this planet was...

    An explosion from the nearby river sent a spray of water into the treetops, and as soon as Nick shook off the initial shock he took in the sight of a thirty-foot alligator with its jaws clamped around the neck of the utahraptor. "What the hell?" Nick exclaimed as he raised the rifle at the alligator's head. The blast of gunpowder echoed through the swamp as expected, but the metal clang that followed it a second later was a surprise to Nick. His aim had been true, he knew it. He hadn't missed a shot in years, and even if he had, there was nothing made of metal in this area anyway. The alligator released its grip of the raptor, who slumped dead on the spot. Nick couldn't believe it; animals had been mutating for six decades, so a gator twice as large as it should be wasn't that big an issue, but even a monster gator like that should have had to struggle with a utahraptor a great deal before killing it. Yet there the raptor lay, the single bite from the crocodilian leaving it almost decapitated. Nick then realized that the gator was coming at him. The boy positioned his rifle once again and fired. The shot impacted right between the eyes, yet the same loud metal clang echoed throughout the swamp.

    Nick tossed the rifle to the ground and hastily pulled out the uzi. The moment the small machine gun was pointing forward a spray of lead slammed into the head of the gator. The only reaction from the animal was that of laughter. Nick was stunned, with all the natural and un-natural biodiversity on the planet, the only creature to ever laugh was human. Even that half-eaten gigantopithicus didn't laugh. Nick emptied the clip into the beast and turned to run. The gator spun and whipped his tail around so that it curved and blocked the path back through the foliage that Nick had come through.

    The boy tossed the uzi to the ground and gripped his sword tightly in both hands. The gator righted itself, and stared up at Nick. "Relax boy, if I wanted to kill you...well, I suppose I would like to see you dead, but not yet. In fact, I might be persuaded to leave you unharmed if you assist me."

    "No, no this is impossible." Nick sputtered as he took a step toward the massive alligator. "As tweaked as DNA got back in the thirties, there's no way an alligator can speak, much less learn English. An ape, sure, maybe even a raccoon, but not a crocodillian. Its brain just doesn't have the potential for that sort of evolution."

    "I suppose I'd take offense." The alligator smiled, or at least attempted a smile. "But there's two things keeping me from doing that. First, you're right, alligators don't have anywhere near the tools for speech. Second, I'm not really an alligator." The beast lunged forward a little and snapped its teeth inches in front of the human. "But thanks to this cursed procedure I was forced to endure, I'm not entirely not-an-alligator! The DNA of this lifeform is integrated into my circuitry, and worse, it's influencing it! I'm not completely myself, so I suggest doing what I say when I say, because if I lose it, I may really lose it; and then you'd lose it. You know what I mean?"

    The seventeen year old was scared, but he had been dealing with fear his entire life, and had been its master since putting his mother to rest. But while brave, he still had not desire to die. "Alright, what do you want from me?" The boy calmly asked.

    "Your lord and master, Archeville." The gator replied.

    "Ah, circuitry, I get it now." Nick replied. "So, the stories are true."

    "Yes boy, they are." The gator snarled. "It was a techno-biological virus that needed a techno-biological treatment. But the treatment requires significant modifications, and even beyond that has certain side effects."

    "I see, so you want the old man to help you throw together a better cure, is that it?"

    "That's the primary objective, yes."

    "The secondary objective being the conquest of Earth, is that right?"

    "I grow impatient child, but I'll answer you none the less." The gator hissed. "The conquest of Earth is not the secondary objective. More like the third or fourth. But you need not concern yourself with any objectives beyond helping me achieve the first."

    "OK." Nick replied. "Though I don't see why you don't just go in and take him."

    "Do you think I didn't intend to do just that when I first arrived?" The gator snapped. "But a quick scan of the compound made it clear that storming the gates wasn't an option. It seems the good doctor has surrounded himself with sensory equipment that would notify him of the presence of my kind the moment I got within a hundred feet of him, and his systems seem to have access to caustic chemicals that have no reason to be there other than for potential suicide."

    "So you need me to disable these systems and wheel him on out." Nick whispered. He had come to resent the old doctor, and the confirmation of his collusion with alien invaders didn't raise his opinion of the man, but as bad as things were, being ruled by alien overlords could only be worse. "Alright, I'll go in and see what I can do."

    "You're not going in until I've been convinced you're on the level." The gator replied.

    "Alright, I know full well that if I don't do what you say you'll kill me." Nick started. "Also, I hate that withering old...thing in there, and we'd all be happy to be rid of him."

    "No you gooey twit, while I expect your voice to be the one that lets me know whether to believe you or not, I need some assurance that what you say is the truth." The gator replied, while behind him a black widow spider the size of a horse emerged from the trees.

    "Holy..., I assume that thing is with you?" Nick pointed at the spider.

    "She is. She will be injecting you with a chemical that will force you to tell the truth." The gator replied. "If I can count on you, I'll let you live. I may even reward you beyond that. If I can not, well, I guess I'll be leaving my fellow reptiles something to feast on." Nick nodded as he stared at the approaching arachnid, but suddenly lunged forward and down and thrust his katana into the left eye of the alligator. It penetrated about two inches before hitting something metal. "Idiot." The gator sneered as the boy wrenched his sword free, sprinted away and disappeared through the low hanging branches. "Go get him." The black widow leapt into the trees and disappeared after the human.

    Nick darted through the thick brush, branches scraping his face and other portions of exposed skin. He had to get back. He had to let them know, probably contact what was left of the government, and if a decent defense couldn't be formulated, maybe kill the old man himself. He had killed lots of things in his life, but never a man. Maybe he could convince himself that it wasn't killing a man, it was breaking a machine. Of course, all this planning was likely pointless as he heard something crashing through the tree limbs high above, something that was closing on him quickly. Nick burst forth through the foliage and fell as the ground gave way beneath him. He slid down through the mud until he splashed into a large puddle. He gripped his sword tightly as he heard a large splash just a few feet behind him. The boy lunged and spun blindly, though he instinctively knew he was on track to cut whatever it was in half. A slender but unweildingly rigid spider leg swatted the sword from his hands, breaking several small bones in Nick's fingers and hands. The boy stumbled back and fell, but continued scampering away. "I'd tell you to relax, but I have a feeling you'll be giving the wrong answer once the chemicals take effect. And there's no consolation prize in this game."

    "Back off!" Nick spat as he kicked up at the spider's head, but the strike had no effect on the black widow and left his foot terribly bruised.

    "Look, this won't hurt a bit." The spider said in a feminine voice. "I don't intend to start the hurting part until much later."

    "He said..." A gigantic light gray bat swooped out of the sky and locked onto the back of the spider, lifting her off the ground and tossing her hard against the trunk of a tree. "Back off!"

    Nick then watched open-mouthed as the bat descended to the ground and shifted shapes until a large blue and gray winged robot stood in front of him. "What the..."

    "Are you alright?" The robot asked.

    Nick didn't bother answering as he twisted in the mud, got to his feet and started to run, but came to a halt as a massive African lion stood in his intended path. He then felt a tremendous wind beat down on him, then it passed, then returned, a wind strong enough to kick up all material not rooted in the ground. The human looked up to see an enormous bald eagle flapping its thunderous wings to lower what appeared to be a regularly sized African elephant to the ground. "Don't fret, we're here to help." The lion said just as the ground shuddered due to the elephant landing.

    The boy chanced a look back at the spider, and watched as it transformed into a robot with a somewhat feminine form underneath the spider limbs. The new robot raised her wrist to her face and spoke into what appeared to be a radio of some sort. "We've got company."

    "So we do!" The alligator announced from the treeline above them that Nick had emerged from prior to falling. "Greetings Optimus Primal. I expected you to track me here, though not so soon." The gator then transformed into a robot as large and powerful looking as the bat-bot.

    This Optimus Primal, the bat-bot, drew two swords and raised them threateningly at the gator-bot. "I'll be forever on your tail until you're either in a cell or you cease functioning. I used to find the former the more appealing end, but recent years have narrowed the gap significantly."

    "Why, you are so much angrier and more violent than your namesake." The gator-bot observed as he drew a cannon hidden in his gator tail and fired at Optimus Primal.

    Primal took to the air and charged the gator-bot, deflecting shots with his swords. "And you're every bit as despicable as yours, Megatron!" Primal had almost reached his enemy, but a shot bypassed his swords and blasted him in the chest, knocking him back several dozen yards. Just as he seemed to recover another shot impacted him in the back, and he plummeted to the ground.

    The spider-bot began firing repeating projectiles from the end of her spider legs, as well as firing small missiles from a hand-held launcher at the other three animals. Nick dove for cover in the mud as the animals transformed. The robot formed from the elephant used cannons attached to the insides of his elephant ears to blast the area around this Megatron, while the robot formed from the eagle utilized a veritable arsenal of weapons hidden inside his wings to send the spider-bot retreating for cover. The robot formed from the lion ran out to attend to Optimus Primal.

    While the spider-bot ran from the superior firepower, Megatron seemed to have little difficulty enduring the elephant-bot's pounding. Megatron aimed his weapon and returned fire, blasting the hulking gray and orange robot in the chest. The shot knocked him down, but the large robot got back up and resumed fire, now aided by his winged companion. Megatron seemed to be enduring the additional firepower as well, but determined that the point of this whole mission was lost. He looked down at the mud-covered human and sneered. "We could have been great together." The robot took aim and fired. Nick expected to see his life flash before his eyes. Instead it was the blue and gray form of Optimus Primal taking the shot intended for him. The blast of the impact was almost deafening, almost as he was still able to hear Megatron laughing. "Even better! Pathetic fool, you should know that helping humans only gets you killed Primal!"

    The other robots were immediately above them peeling Primal away from the boy. "Optimus!" The eagle-bot called out.

    "Give me room Silverbolt!" The lion-bot ordered to the bird-bot.

    "Slag it all!" The elephant-bot growled and then glared down at Nick. "Sacrifice is great, but not for such useless, ungrateful, traitorous, pieces of..."

    "That's enough Ironhide!" The lion-bot called out as he began working on the wounds to Primal. "This boy wasn't even born then. Heck, we weren't even born then."

    "Don't give me a history lesson Prowl!" Ironhide snapped. "Or I'll be forced to remind you that we still have prisoners of war on this planet!"

    "And we'll get those POW's, I assure you." Prowl answered. "But the priority is keeping the Predacons from discovering a full blown cure, or retrieving their POW's."

    "Yeah yeah, we remember when Primal told us this...like ten minutes ago!" Silverbolt replied. "Just tell me whether he's going to live or not."

    "He'll live, but it'll require a major overhaul to his frame." Prowl replied.

    "Well, since we're rebuilding him, might I suggest enhancing the firepower that's built into his frame?" Ironhide replied. "He's got the close quarters combat stuff down, but his long-range game is pathetic."

    "I...I heard that." Primal muttered weakly.

    "Heh, I figured you'd have gone off line after the beating you took." Ironhide answered. "So, any orders before you go under for repairs?"

    "Ye...yes. Summon Wolfang to bring me back to the ship." Primal answered. "Return the boy to his compound and guard it against the Predacons."

    "What?" Ironhide roared. "You want us to protect Archeville?"

    "You will do as I say!" Primal struggled to get out. "Now do it!"

    "You've got it, Optimus." Prowl replied as Silverbolt raised his speaker to his face to summon Wolfang.
     
  2. darksage78

    darksage78 Maximal

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    Nice take on the series, hopefully you'll make references to things like the compound in the short comic included with Primal and Megs. I hope you do continue this and pray that you finish G1 version 2.0 :) 
     
  3. red00wolf

    red00wolf insatiable collector

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    Omg Do More!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
     
  4. peteynorth

    peteynorth TFW2005 Supporter

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    Chapter 2


    "So which of these Secret Service guys have you got servicing you secretly?" The blond asked her multi-racial friend as they and their two escorts in black suits made their way through the halls of the Air Force Academy toward one of the many lecture halls.

    "None, I'm not the skank you are Kim, and these guys are too professional for that sort of thing." Her friend replied as they approached the open door, where inside two more Secret Service agents and a German Shepherd were completeing their examination of the large room. "Hey Frank, what happened to Clarence?" The nineteen year old First Daughter asked.

    "He's sick, Kristen, been throwing up all morning." Frank, a tall agent with light brown hair replied. "Not sure whether it's a bug or food poisoning, but whatever it is, he's definitely down for a day or two."

    Kristen looked at the new dog, by far the biggest Shepherd she'd ever seen. "So what's this thing's name?"

    "Thing? That's not very nice." The other agent examining the room smiled.

    Frank nodded. "He doesn't really have a name yet, we've simply been calling him the stray."

    Kim leaned forward and pet the dog, but then pulled her hand away and sheepishly looked up at Frank. "Is it OK to pet him, or is that a no-no while he's on the job?"

    Frank shrugged at the young woman. "Go ahead."

    Kim resumed her petting of the animal. "Why do you call him the stray?"

    "Because that's what he is." The other agent replied. "We found him outside Peterson's perimeter fence with a dead velociraptor in his mouth a week ago."

    Kristen looked at the dog, disapproval written on her face. "Sam, if he just showed up on our doorstep a week ago, what's he doing sniffing for bombs?"

    "He's like a genius dog." Sam, the other agent, answered. "When we let him in it became very obvious he was very smart, and since he took out a velociraptor apparently on his own, well, it was a no brainer to get him in the cannine security program. He whizzed through it in no time, expecially the chemical detection sections."

    "The smart money is that he was a bomb dog from another town that got lost." Frank offered. "But damn if we're going to seek out his previous owners, he's a Secret Service agent now."

    "A Secret Service agent without a name?" Kim questioned.

    "Why don't you name him, Kristen?" Frank asked. "Consider it an executive privilege."

    Kristen looked at the dog. "Well, he's protecting me, so I won't call him Mongrel, and I can't let you guys keep calling him Stray. But once Clarence get's back I'd rather not see him again. What can I say, I'm loyal to my bomb dog." The First Daughter bent over and looked closely at the animal, but kept her distance. "Actually, I don't care, just call him Canine."

    "Fine, K-9 it is." Frank replied.

    "So is it alright to attend class now?" Kim asked.

    "We wouldn't have let you in the room had we not already cleared it." Sam replied before addressing the two personal escorts to Kristen. "We'll be outside if you need us." The escorts nodded and Frank, Sam and K-9 sauntered out of the room, turning sideways to allow students to enter through the same door they were exiting through.

    The two girls, along with two dozen other students, took their seats and waited for the lecture to start. A few minutes passed before a tall lanky professor in his fifties entered the room and started organizing his notes. "Sorry I'm late class, I had an issue with one of my TA's that went a little long." The sound of the downsized anti-aircraft artillery designed to repel organic aerial threats echoed into the lecture hall, a sound that while initially startling, was nothing new or concerning to the students, professor or Secret Service agents. "Sounds like pterodactyl will be on the cafeteria menu today." The comment got a few chuckles, which was generous considering the statement had been heard by every student in the room at least twice before by other teachers. A second barrage of anti-aircraft artillery could be heard, which was extremely uncommon, and then a third, which was unprecidented at the Academy. "What the..."

    The professor's question was interrupted as the roof shattered inward and a wasp the size of a buffalo swooped into the expansive room. The professor backed up against the wall as the students all panicked in their seats. The two Secret Service escorts were immediately upon Kristen and firing their handguns up at the giant insect. Frank, Sam and K-9 charged into the room, and the other two human agents fired up at the flying intruder as well. But despite their impecable aim, the bullets had no effect on the wasp. As the agents scrambled to get Kristen out of the room, the wasp lowered and began shifting its shape. A few seconds later a thirteen and a half foot robot with bestial facial features stood in front of the first row of desks. "Surrender Kristen Srisai or I will simply take her from your dead hands."

    The dog immediately went prone, as if preparing to do something, but a rat the size of a housecat charged into the lecture hall and called out in a language so alien to the humans that they didn't even recognize it as speech. "Maintain your cover!" The animals seemed beneath the notice of the giant green and yellow construct until the scampering rodent leapt at it and transformed into a three foot tall robot. The tiny robot landed on the larger robot's chest and fired three shots from a small pistol of alien design directly into the wasp-bot's chest. The rat-bot remained standing on the wasp-bot's chest, even as the green and yellow attacker fell and landed heavily on its back, and then aimed at a hand-held missile launcher clutched by the wasp-bot and fired four shots into that, rendering it useless. The miniscule robot turned and yelled at the dog, though the Secret Service agents took the message as being intended for them. "Get her out of here!"

    "Slagging rat!" The wasp-bot growled as he finally got a good look at his attacker.

    "That's Rattrap, Waspinator!" The small robot turned and pointed his weapon back at the assailant's body.

    "Whatever." Waspinator reached up and grabbed Rattrap before he could fire and flung him all the way across the lecture hall and through the back wall. The giant robot then sat up, reached over and flung several desks toward the retreating agents and First Daughter. K-9 leapt forward and blocked the barrage of metal and wood with his body, eliciting a yelp in an effort to maintain his cover.

    "Go!" Frank pushed Kristen through the doorway amazed as he saw the dog spring back up after what should have pulverized its ribcage.

    "What about Canine?" The young woman yelled as she saw the dog attack the robot that was getting to its feet. The dog savagely tore into the robot's upper chest and neck. "Wow, Clarence couldn't do that." She whispered in awe.

    "GO!" Sam echoed Frank's order.

    The four agents rushed Kristen through the building as the sounds of the struggle between the giant robot and the brave dog reverberated through the hallways. The five people burst through the front doors as another agent pulled a heavily armed and armored high speed truck up to the door. "Get in!"

    The threw the girl into the back seat and assembled in quickly after her, keeping their weapons trained on the glass door they had just exited through. "There's Canine!" Kristen screamed as she peered through her protectors.

    "What are you doing?" Sam yelled out as Frank held off getting in the car. Instead of answering or jumping into the vehicle, Frank fired a shot through the upper portion of the glass door, shattering the glass and allowing K-9 to bypass the door without slowing down.

    The animal sprinted and leapt into the awaiting car and Frank, the last agent, followed in and closed it behind them. "Good boy." Kristen hugged the dog tightly, starting to weep. "Good boy."

    "Hand me the walky-talky!" Sam reached into the front seat, grabbing what he was asking to have given to him. "I've got to try and describe that thing so that Peterson has a chance to defend itself."

    "We all know damn well what that thing was, and don't bother telling Peterson to prepare a defense..." One of the escorts that had been in the classroom when Waspinator first attacked growled. "Tell them to scramble some copters our way. That thing's coming at us again!" They all turned and peered out the back window as the wasp rose from the top of the building and sped after them. Fortunately for them, the creature was jolted out flying after them by an un-modified anti-aircraft shell blasting into it. The smoky beast carreened downward and crashed toward the mountains. "That's a relief, but let's still get the copters on their way."


    ***


    Though considered a civilian helicopter, the flying machine was covered with guns of various kinds to fend off flying monsters. Despite the weapons, the President of the United States felt no concern standing in the open as the copter landed, despite the pleas of his Secret Service agents. The President watched as the vehicle touched down, and a young man, a boy really, exited with surprising grace despite the crutches, bandaged foot, splinted fingers on one hand and cast on the other. A small backpack was already strapped over his shoulders as he made his way toward the President, leaving the copter pilot alone in the vehicle, but several Secret Service agents stopped him and searched him before he got within fifty yards of the Commander in Chief. A jeep pulled up along side the small group and drove the visitor the rest of the way. The young man hopped from the vehicle and hobbled up to the President. "Hello Mr. President."

    The President reached out and gently shook the boy's offered injured hand. "Hello Nicholas, it's a pleasure to meet you."

    "Dr. Archeville sends his regards." Nick reached into his backpack and pulled out a bottle of wine. "We've got a pretty respectable vineyard on the compound, and this was one of the better years, or so I'm told."

    "Please be sure to extend him my thanks when you see him again." The President accepted the bottle, and then smiled as he looked intently at the young man. "So you're told? You mean the drinking age is still respected in some parts of the country?"

    "I can only speak for our compound sir, I really haven't gotten out much." Nick replied. "But my not being permitted to drink the wine has less to do with my age than my station."

    "I see." President Srisai replied sadly. Each human outpost seemed to have developed their own laws and set of social norms and values, and in many cases, caste systems. But as much as the President disapproved, his government was no longer in a position to promote, much less enforce, the equality of its citizens. "Please, come in. We'll get you something to eat."

    "I appreciate that sir." Nick replied as they entered a building behind them. "But I'm under orders to provide you the information and return to Tennesee post haste."

    The two sat down and Nick pulled out photographs of Prowl, Ironhide and Silverbolt in both their animal and robot forms. "These are three of the four robots that saved me. The fourth, their leader, was injured and escorted to their craft by a fifth robot that I did not see, though it's likely that his animal form is that of a wolf given that they referred to him as Wolfang."

    "I see." The President scrutinized the photos.

    "The two that attacked me transformed into an alligator and giant black widow spider." Nick continued. "The leader of the group that saved me transformed into a giant bat. His name was Optimus Primal, the gator was Megatron, the spider was Blackarachnia, this one..." Nick started pointing at the pictures. "Is Prowl, this is Silverbolt and this is Ironhide. I was told by Dr. Archeville that some of these names may seem familiar to you, but to asure you that they are not the same entities that you associate to the names."

    Srisai nodded. "I know, but thanks for the clarification anyway. So tell me..."

    "Sir!" An Army officer burst into the room. "We've gotten word that your daughter was attacked by a giant transforming wasp. A large transforming rodent may have been involved as well."

    "Where is she?" The terrified father stood up from his chair.

    "They're on their way back now. They should reach the base within a half hour." The officer said. "We've got them on the short-wave, come with me."

    The President took a step, but stopped and turned to the young man still sitting at the table. "You've fought these things, right?"

    Nick squirmed. "I tried to, but I doubt I'd be able to add anything. I was pretty useless against these things."

    "It's my little girl, any insight would be appreciated." The President pleaded.

    Nick got up and hobbled toward the door. "Of course sir."


    *


    "OK Honey, I see you now." President Srisai stepped toward the perimeter fence and said into the walky talky at seeing the truck carrying his daughter, one surrounded by armored jeeps and helicopters, came into view.

    "Yeah, I see Peterson." Kristen's voice calmly stated, though underlying stress was clearly there. "We'll be there in a few minutes." Nick hobbled behind the President, his lack of expertise was not an issue as no more attacks on the truck carrying Kristen Srisai had occurred. The vehicles finally entered the base, and the truck pulled up in front of the President. A moment later the door flung open and Kristen shot out and embraced her father, the calm evaporating as she started weeping. K-9 leapt calmly from the truck and sauntered to the side of the group, looking intently into the distance from where they had come. "Canine, come here boy."

    The animal turned and looked at the young woman, paused as he stared back in the direction of the Air Force Academy, and then trotted over to Kristen, licking her cheek as she leaned down to nuzzle him. "Sir, I would like to recommend giving this dog a medal." Sam suggested. "I doubt we'd have gotten her out of there without K-9"

    The President looked at the dog. "K-9 huh? What happened to Clarence? I thought he was the primary bomb-sniffer."

    "He got sick." Kristen replied. "But it's for the best. As much as I love Clarence, there's no way he could have done what Canine did."

    Nick stared at the dog suspiciously, but was torn away from those suspicions by the President. "Well, I'll make sure that K-9 is amply rewarded. Now please get into the compound Honey, there is a great deal that needs discussing."

    Kristen straightened up and finally took notice of the young man on crutches behind her father. "Who's this?"

    "Nick...Nicholas. Nicholas Cavidge." Nick stammered, partially flustered by thoughts of what the wonder-dog could be, and also by a pretty woman addressing him in a way that wasn't the barking at a servant's son. "I've had a run in with these beast-bots too."

    "Really?" Kristen stared wide-eyed at the tall boy.

    "What sort of run in?" Frank inquired.

    Nick looked to the President, who shrugged. "No point in keeping it from them. They've lived it."

    "Got attacked by a giant gator who turned into a giant robot named Megatron. He had a spider that turned into a robot, a female robot if such a thing is possible, named Blackarachnia."

    "Typical chauvinist. Why would a male robot be any more plausible than a female?" Kristen questioned heatedly.

    The accusatory question wiped away the mini-crush that had been aflicting him. "Take away the making of babies and what's the point of feminine physical traits? By male and female, I'm referring to general physiques, facial features and voices; not their plumbing. Now may I continue?" Nick ignored the look of anger from Kristen and the look of surprise from everyone else. "I was rescued by other animals that transformed into robots. The leader was a bat-bot named Optimus Primal."

    "Why would they attack you?" Frank questioned.

    "They wanted me to help them capture a scientist that lives in my community." Nick answered.

    "He lives in the Archeville Compound." The President explained.

    "You're with Archeville?" Frank pressed, a slight hint of anger in his voice.

    Nick failed to detect the anger and shrugged. "They took me and my mother in ten years ago. I guess I owe the guy my life." It was not difficult to discern the boy's true feelings regarding his benefactor from the tone of his voice. "Anyway, they want him to help develop a cure for the virus he zapped them with almost ninety years ago. At least that was the 'primary objective' according to Megatron."

    "Any idea of what the other objectives are?" Sam questioned.

    "Well, conquering the planet is third or fourth down the line." Nick answered. "I do have a guess as to what number two is though. Something one of my rescuers said. Something about prisoners of war...here on Earth...for both factions."

    President Frederick Srisai looked down at the ground as he pondered something, and as he looked up he caught one of his daughter's escorts, Frank Warwick, staring at him intently, as if trying to read his expression. The agent looked away, so the President dismissed it. "You didn't tell me that part."

    "We got interrupted." Nick responded. "I thought it was OK to talk freely."

    Srisai looked up and nodded to everyone. "All right, let's move this inside." He then turned to his daughter. "I've also gotten word that there were no injuries at the Academy, so you don't need to worry about your friend Kim." Kristen smiled as she wrapper her arm around her father's waist and walked into the building with him, K-9 at her side. "Nick, I'll let Dr. Archeville's people know that you're staying the night due to the attack. In fact, if you were so inclined, you'd be welcome to stay as long as you'd wish."

    "Thanks." Nick smiled, and was about to dismiss the offer when he actually started to think about it. To be useful and surrounded by people you dislike, or to be useless to people you do like? It would be something he would need to dwell on.


    *


    "Kristen?" Frank Warwick knocked at the door to the young woman's room.

    "Come in." Kristen called out. Frank walked in and saw Kristen sitting on her bed studying her Chemistry notes. Laying at her feet on the bed was her new protector, K-9. "Hey Frank."

    "I'm not sure if it's a good idea to have him on the bed." Frank said.

    "I've decided he's not a bomb dog anymore." Kristen smiled. "He's now my personal confidant and bodyguard; executive privilege."

    "You've got lots of bodyguards, I'm one of them. Besides, I'd like to borrow him for a little while. I'll return him when I'm done for tonight, but we'll have to discuss the extent of your executive privilege's tomorrow." Frank nodded at the dog, who hopped off the bed and followed him out of the room.

    "You be good to him." Kristen called out as Frank shut the door.

    "Come on boy." Frank whispered to the dog as he headed down the hallway of what they affectionately referred to as the brown house. The traditional home of the first family for two and a half centuries was submerged with the rest of Washington D.C., and following the climate shifts and wars, Peterson Air Force Base, the headquarters for NORAD, had become the unofficial capital of the United States. This mansion was built on the grounds of the base, and had housed the first families for the past 56 years. The Secret Service agent opened a door and walked into a small room with a table that had a bowl of liquid, a towel and an odd type of flashlight on it. Frank closed the door once K-9 had entered the room. "Thank you for coming, and for enduring all the 'good boys', I know it has to seem condescending." The dog merely twisted his head quizically at the man.

    Frank walked to the table, soaked the small towel in the liquid in the bowl, and then started scrubbing his outer left forearm with the wet cloth. "I was given the name Warwick at birth, as were my brother and sister. My father and his brother were given the name Warwick. My grandfather and his sister were given the name Warwick as well. My great grandfather however was given a different name at birth." Frank gently dropped the towel back into the bowl and wiped away the excess liquid, which was more viscous than water, but not overly so. "My great grandfather chose the name Warwick after determining that his given name would confine he and his offspring to government scrutiny; and there was reason for the government to scrutinize him."

    Frank turned on the light, which gave off a glow not unlike that of a black light. "The name given to my great grandfather at birth was Witwicky...Daniel Witwicky." Raising the light above his moistened forearm, Frank revealed a design created from a reactive material implanted underneath; the Autobot brand. "Your kind was betrayed by humans, but not all humans. Some of us have devoted our lives, and the lives of our offspring to finding your captured brethren. We've been able to piece together bits and pieces; not a lot, but the information we have I'd be happy to provide to this Optimus Primal." Frank looked at the dog, who was not confirming what Frank so clearly believed, but who was clearly more intrigued by his words than a dog should be. "There's something else, something the government could not claim, but I'll save that for Primal."
     
    Last edited: Sep 26, 2007
  5. darksage78

    darksage78 Maximal

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    Awesome, I'm interested in seeing how you tie the Autobots and Maximals together. Pretty cool how you brought K-9 in and several G1 references. Perhaps Frank from Welker and Peterson from your G1 Version 2?
     
  6. peteynorth

    peteynorth TFW2005 Supporter

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    Never read the comic that came with the Primal Megs two pack (original one, not BWX), so I wasn't planning any reference to that.

    Frank's just a common name I picked. Peterson has nothing to do with the guy in V2, it's a real air force base outside Colorado Springs and where NORAD command is located. With waters levels being so high in this future I figured Colorado with its high elevation would be a likely place for the government to relocate. The Colorado Springs area was ideal as it has Peterson, an Army base (forgot the name) and the Air Force Academy all very close.

    I will be finishing V2 at some point, though the rate I'm going I'll be collecting social security by then...who am I kidding, there won't be social security once the baby boomers start retiring. But I'll be old by the time it's done.

    As for G1 tie ins, there will be mentions, it is a major reason they're on Earth, and there will be one character from G1 that will likely make an appearance if I get that far - and if you know the 96-97 BW toys, then you can pretty easily deduce which one.
     
  7. red00wolf

    red00wolf insatiable collector

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    yayyyyyyy me wants moresssssssss!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11!!!11!1!:D 
     
  8. darksage78

    darksage78 Maximal

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    @__@" So another couple years till V2 is finished? Aww :(  But damn good work on it pete, so I hope you keep up the awesome story and have the Decepticons fight till the bitter end.

    Thanks for the information, maybe I was reading too far into the story ><" Stupid english lessons.

    I do have the original BW Optimus Primal vs Megatron comic if you'd like me to scan in, I'm sure it won't be a problem.

    And oo Grimlock :)  And I'm guessing that Primal and Megatron are their namesakes not the originals?
     
  9. peteynorth

    peteynorth TFW2005 Supporter

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    Chapter 3


    A hiss echoed off the walls of the infirmary as the door to a large construct built into the wall opened to release previously contained gases. The lone occupant stood within for a few moments longer on its awkward bipedal stance before lowering its thirteen foot frame to a more natural quadrupedal stance, the creature's knuckles falling outside the device and onto the clean metal floor. The beast slowly walked out from the device and walked toward the center of the room toward a five-foot tall feminine robot. The robot looked over the animal and nodded. "You've more than doubled the stature of an African mountain gorilla. Not that I'm innocent of skewing the average of my chosen species way to the right on the size charts, but you'd still have been better served by going with a gigantopithicus."

    "We already had this creature's DNA on file." The gorilla replied in Primal's voice. "I didn't feel like sending a probe down to this brave new Earth simply to expand the genetic database our predecessors collected during their stay here."

    "Actually..." the female robot muttered. "A probe was already sent down for the purpose of collecting DNA data from various cloned species."

    "What?" Primal growled. "I gave no such order to do so! When did this happen, Airazor?"

    "The probe was sent while you were on the planet intercepting Megatron." Airazor replied as the two walked out of the infirmary and headed down the hallway. "The mechanical redesign and genetic integration was just getting underway as Wolfang brought you in for repairs."

    "Where is he?" Primal grumbled.

    "I haven't told you who it was." Airazor answered.

    "I know who it was!" The gorilla picked up the pace as he headed down the hall.

    "Then you should be able to guess where he's at." Airazor struggled to keep up.

    Primal slowed as he reached the ship's training facility and transformed into a sixteen foot tall and extremely powerfully built robot, turning to Airazor before entering. "Get a update from B'Boom on the status of the modifications of the mobile base. Tell him I want it operational yesterday. And be sure to thank him for my weapons upgrades; I can't believe he managed to fit all this in."

    "Aye aye, sir." Airazor replied, transformed to a peregrine falcon and headed toward another section of the ship.

    Primal turned and walked into the training facility where one robot was fending off four others quite effectively. Though it was clearly a sparring session, the punches did not appear to be pulled. The lone warrior stood as tall as Primal, only a shade less hulking, and possessed a cranial shell that was monstrous, possessing widely set optic holes, a snout and a fang-bearing upper jaw with no noticable lower jaw. And though outnumbered four to one, this warrior seemed to have his opponents on the defensive.

    The other opponents, three of whom were roughly the same height and one who was about six feet tall, attempted to use their number and any other advantage to get the best of this robot, but each of their attempts was met by an effective defense and painful counter. "Enough!" Primal called out. "Polarclaw, Cybershark, Bonecrusher, Razorbeast; please leave us." The four robots nodded, bowed to the robot they had been attacking, and left. Primal walked to the center of the room and looked over the remaining soldier, touching the flesh covering the majority of his body. "Look, I get it. The most potent combat squad in Autobot history. Warriors so deadly that even the most savage of Decepticons feared them. I understood your emulation of them, I even understood when you took their collective name as your own. But to take it to a level where you're disobeying my orders simply to possess an alternate mode that better fits with theirs is too far!" Primal crossed his arms and shook his head. "You're a phenominal warrior, the best we have at close quarters combat, but as a soldier you need a great deal of work."

    Primal noted the shift in the mouth of the skull-like head and realized that the statement would be seen as praise; a sentiment often expressed to the young Maximal's greatest hero. "Listen to me Dinobot, I can not have you operating your own agenda while we're here! Despite the actions of the past, we are not at war with the humans! While the Maximalization process has altered us drastically from our Autobot forebears, at our core we still possess their values. So you are not to initiate aggressions against them! Is this understood?"

    The bestial robot stared at Primal heatedly before replying. "Actions of the past? It appears that it is you that doesn't understand! We have comrades imprisoned on this world...right now! You need not worry about me initiating any aggressions, for they've already been initiated against us! And I will not leave this star system without those comrades, is that understood?"

    Primal shook his head. "Look, Dinobot, I agree with you. I have no intention of not getting the Autobots that never returned to Cybertron, whatever their current condition. But I will exhaust every diplomatic measure before resorting to violence."

    "Then make it quick!" Dinobot growled. "They've been on this traitor-filled mudball for over a vorn, it's time they were freed. The humans lack any diplomatic grounds for not returning them immediately, if you ask me."

    "I understand your impatience, but it's not as simple as that." Primal replied. "Aside from Archeville, no humans from that time period still live, and due to the virus turning on their own networks, there's a strong likelihood that much of what happened is unknown to the current incarnation of the government or governments responsible. We will get our forefathers back, but we must tread carefully in doing so." The Maximal leader then nodded at the animal head that made up the majority of Dinobot's chest. "So what is this thing anyway?"

    "It's an achillobator, a dromaeosaurid." Dinobot noted Primal's lack of understanding. "A big cousin of the velociraptor."

    "Oh. Well I'll overlook this transgression for now, but know that the next time I will bust your tail!" Primal tried to reassert himself.

    "Primal, come in." Wolfang's voice came through Primal's wrist communicator.

    "What is it Wolfang?"

    "Just got a report from Rattrap." Wolfang replied. "You were right, the American Presidential family is a target of the Predacons. He and K-9, yeah, stupid name but I guess it's no worse a name than Rattrap. Anyway, he and K-9 fended off an attack from Waspinator. Rattrap was forced to break cover, but K-9 was able to maintain his and through the defense of the President's daughter he's earned a spot as the her personal pet."

    "Good, he should be in a position to discern a great deal." Primal replied.

    "Sir, there's more." Wolfang continued. "One Secret Service agent figured out what K-9 was, but failed to divulge his suspicions to the other humans. He claimed to be loyal to the Autobots, and that he's descended from some human named Daniel Witwicky, whoever that was."

    Primal was stunned. "Thank you Wolfang, I'm heading to the bridge now to examine the report in detail."


    *


    "Primal's hot to see this thing ready." Airazor announced as she entered a large work area.

    "Well then he'll be happy." A fourteen-foot, predominantly blue robot answered. "Completing the DNA sequence now."

    "You selected the DNA of a blue whale, right?" Airazor questioned, knowing that B'Boom's attention to detail sometimes wavered.

    "Don't worry, it's a whale." The larger Maximal snapped back. "Primus, give me a little credit."

    "A little credit?" Airazor asked. "Credit for a guy who boasted he could keep a direct translation of his name because the animal he selected already sounded like it, and instead of selecting a baboon he selected a mandrill? And then, despite it being a nearly fool-proof process, you screw up the DNA sequence just enough to give you a color that doesn't exist in nature."

    "Well it's a whale, so don't worry!" B'Boom grumbled.

    Skeptical, Airazor approached the controls and checked them herself. "Oh sweet son of Trion, you selected an orca!"

    "So?"

    "So, the mobile base is at least four times the size of the largest orca!" Airazor spat back. "As it was we were pushing the boundries for a blue whale, but there's no way we can pass this thing off as a real orca!"

    "Who the slag cares?" B'Boom snarled. "It'll be under water whenever it's in fish mode..."

    "Mammal."

    "Whatever! My point is that the only time a Pred or human will see it is when it surfaces or beaches, and if and when that happens it'll be go time and it'll be the transformation into base mode and firing of missiles that blow it's cover, not the black and white!"

    "You're an idiot!" Airazor yelled.

    "And you're a know-it-all, pain in the skidplate shrew!" The blue robot came back angrily at first but a grin came over his brutal looking face. "This is pretty hot. Let's say we..."

    "Let's not." Airazor interrupted. "I'll let Primal deal with this slag up."


    ***


    "Glad you could make the trip Bannister, but aren't there better ways to be spending your honeymoon?" The disheveled scientist in his mid-fifties called out to the well dressed, no nonsense man marching through the security gate. Both he and the overgrown wilderness outside the compound were being scrutinized by a dozen heavily armed guards, all of whom were stunningly beautiful women.

    "Do you see a ring on my finger, ya' batin' rag?" Bannister snapped back as he approached the scientist, who smiled and waved his suddenly concerned guards down. "The Transformers decide to return and get the whole compound in an uproar the day before my wedding. I double the security, meet with our so-called protectors; oh, and get this Cichorski, they're not even Autobots."

    "Not Autobots? What are they?" Cichorski asked as they shook hands and he allowed him into the front building.

    "Apparently they figured out some treatment that utilizes the immune systems of organic beings. Coupled with their own immunity, it kind of provides a one-two punch that keeps the virus at bay." Bannister answered. "Anyway, I guess those created or modified with this process saw themselves as the next evolutionary step, and adopted the name of Maximals based off of the process."

    "Maximals, huh? Well, I guess if they're not turning into cars and trucks anymore then the name Autobot wouldn't seem right." The scientist continued.

    "Yeah, even the bad guys changed their names. They're Predacons now." Bannister looked around at the fourteen beautiful women maintaining the facility, many of whom looked like each other, just aged differently. "Man, you really are over the top. How many of these broads have you created?"

    Cichorski laughed. "All in all, nearly sixty. But you have to keep in mind that the first dozen or so died within weeks of their birth; and no, it wasn't because my non-cloned assistants were unfit parents. The process needed refining, and going by my fifteen year-olds, it's finally a success."

    "Oh my god! Fifteen?"

    You do realize that while I can clone them, I can't age them, don't you?" Cichorski explained. "Relax, I won't touch them for another three, well, two years. That is if they don't manage to escape. The previous generations are all a little dim, and very dependant on me for their existence and for feelings of worth, but these seem like perfect recreations of the original women they're cloned from. But if I can let them know that there's nothing outside the gates but pain, starvation and death, then maybe they'll choose to stay and serve me like their predecessors."

    "You're an animal." Bannister growled, though he too was giving prolonged stares at the perfectly formed females that surrounded them.

    "Well, since your admission to the 'One V' club has been postponed, why don't you make use of Kendy over there. She's a little long in the tooth, almost thirty-two. Part of the first brood to actually survive to adulthood. Don't expect much from her in terms of conversation, though she does know a great deal about what's really important."

    Bannister looked over at the woman that Cichorski was referring to and started nodding. "Sure, yeah, why not. But I need to inspect the specimen myself and collect your status report for Archeville first."

    "Of course." Cichorski replied. "Right this way." The two men followed the winding hallways, past several labs in varying states of disrepair, before finally approaching the end of the hallway and coming to a series of airlocks. "You remember the routine, don't you?"

    "Yeah, yeah." Bannister grumbled as he reached for a lead suit hanging on the wall. "Let's just get this over with." Both men got into their respective suits, sealing their entire bodies before walking into the next section of the air lock.

    "Alright, the fun part." Cichorski announced as he activated the jets all around the section of the airlock they were in to spray chemical gases to kill off any residual Cybertronian virus that may be affixed to the outside of the lead suits. A moment later vents in the chamber sucked all the gas out and the men were permitted entrance to the lab protected by the airlocks.

    "I can't believe all this old equipment still works." Bannister admired.

    "This was the most advanced genetics facility in the world, breaking down the most complex of genetic code, including long extinct species and human beings. It stands to reason that they'd be using the best equipment available to them." The scruffy scientist replied. "They managed to cut and seal this room off from the outside world, keeping the equipment safe from the virus, abandoned it to deal with their own survival, and it was left unused for decades until Archeville ordered me to come here and start working on the project."

    "And how is the project?" Bannister queried as they walked around to a line of large containers containing some sort of fluid. Most of the containers were empty, but they came to one where a naked, twelve year old boy was inside floating unconscious with a breathing aparatus and several other tubes and wires hooked to him.

    "Looking good so far, though it seems unnatural to be cloning a male." Cichorski joked. "I guess the old man really was human once under all that metal. Anyway, I think it's a keeper. As I told you, the fifteen year old girls manufactured using this updated process are nothing short of perfect. Other than the prolonged stasis, this kid has been treated no differently. We'd just need to get transport him down to the Tennesee compound, extract his brain and replace it with the old man's. I'm sure going through puberty again can't be any worse than being hooked up to all that hardware." Cichorski reached out and picked up a thick case file. "Here are the details, printed out in old-fashioned, virus-immune paper for the old man to read."

    "Excellent." Bannister smiled as he picked up the file in his gloved hand. "Now if you don't mind, I've got a date with Kendy."

    "Yeah, ridicule me all you want, but you'd do the exact same thing in my position." The scientist laughed as they made their way back through the airlocks.

    A few moments later they entered the main room to find it in disarray, the corpses of the cloned women thrown about, and in the center of the room an enormous alligator, a pterodactyl, and a giant snapping turtle. The gator flashed a long smile. "Greetings gentlemen."
     
  10. darksage78

    darksage78 Maximal

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    Hrmm human clones... I wonder how this will play in eventually but nice to see the Oranacoh or w/e playsets get exposure in this fic and good job on the unique way you brought in Optimus' new form and the Maximal policies on lifeforms. I wonder if the Preds are gonna build their base in the similar fashion and how Megatron will get his T-Rex mode. Oh and the B'boom cramming weapons into Primal's new form was great lol
     
  11. Rotorstorm

    Rotorstorm OriginalRotorstorm Fanboy

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    Grimlock cometh i'm guessing.

    i just hope version 2.0 will get your interest again at somepoint
     
  12. surak777

    surak777 Autobot Musician TFW2005 Supporter

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    different take than BW and totally what I wanted from BW.. I'm hooked
     
  13. peteynorth

    peteynorth TFW2005 Supporter

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    Chapter 4



    "Let's see how well you walk with only seven legs." The blond eight-year-old boy commented malevolently as he plucked a limb from a captive spider. The small daddy longlegs squirmed and tried to scamper away, but the boy's grip of one of his remaining legs kept him from escaping. The sadistic child looked out toward the perimeter fence and smiled at the scornful looking elephant standing on the other side. "Can I see you transform?"



    Ironhide ignored the child's question. "Do you intend to consume that arachnid?"



    "What?" The confused child replied.



    "Are you going to eat that poor creature?"



    The child's face contorted into a scowl. "Euwww, gross."



    "So you're maiming this creature for no reason?" The elephant asked.



    The boy displayed a strange look before slamming his hand down on the still struggling spider, getting to his feet and abandoning the now dead spider to run back to the compound. "Mom!"



    "Despicable species." Ironhide grumbled through the mouth of his pachyderm mode. Suddenly he felt a slight trembling of the ground. As the seconds passed the trembling gradually got more intense. "What the slag?"



    Silverbolt flew by overhead in eagle mode while Prowl in lion mode and a large red boar rounded the corner of the perimeter fence and headed toward Ironhide. "Whatever it is, it's huge and coming from that direction." The boar estimated as he looked in the distance past Ironhide.



    Though still many miles away, the cause of the increasingly powerful tremors came into view over the tree line. Those at the compound could see the top of a purple and orange tarantula; it's powerful black legs working their way over, around and through the thick forest toward the compound. The eagle lowered to the ground, transformed to Silverbolt, landed next to his friends and presented a fair impersonation of Optimus Primal. "I'm bringing you three because you present a military asset that the Predacons will have a nearly impossible time overcoming." The winged warrior huffed, used his long-range optical scanners to get a close look at the oncoming giant, and continued in his own voice dripping with sarcasm. "Didn't take Megatron long to achieve the impossible. Anyway, the hull is covered with what appears to be organic material, so I suppose we can't be sure this isn't a real spider."



    “No disguise would be adequate for something that big.” Prowl muttered. "The organic-mechanical hybridization process is merely to keep the virus at bay."



    "Hmmm, mobile command station outfitted with the organifit technology we pioneered. How ironic that they came up with the same idea at pretty much the exact same time." Ironhide sarcastically remarked.



    "Enough." Prowl grumbled as he transformed to robot mode.



    "Primus, I could have cut her in half the other day." Silverbolt continued on Ironhide's tangent. "I don't care what Primal says, she's not one of us."



    "You will care what Primal says!" Prowl snapped. "Look, I'm not going to lie, I don't trust her entirely either, but until Primal declares Blackarachnia a rogue agent, you're to continue aiming a little wide when engaging her!" He peered up at the advancing menace. "Besides, mobile battle stations aren't anything new, and utilizing the organic treatment to keep one running against the virus isn't a concept that requires much of an epiphany to come up with." The Maximal rolled his shoulders, giving away a little nervousness in preparation for what he anticipated to be a challenge too great for even them. "I just hope this thing isn't alive."



    "Well if it is, it shouldn't be for long." The boar announced to the other Maximals before transforming to Razorbeast and peering at his comrades through his mechanical optics. "There's a reason you guys were picked for this, so I would suggest now be a good time to put your best face forward."



    "Alright, get it started." Prowl suggested to the elephant. Ironhide nodded and thrust his rear body up and forward. In a flash his massive front legs were holding the rest of the bulk directly above them, and longer feet were flipping out from the shins to replace the front elephant feet. The remainder of the beast's body shifted shape, the back flipping up with internal components connecting it to the tusks and the rear splitting and opening up to form arms from the rear legs. Prowl then looked to Silverbolt. "Our turn."



    "I hate doing this." Silverbolt whined as they leapt to the air, reconfigured themselves, connected with one another and latched above the legs and between the arms created by Ironhide's frame, armor paneling created from the elephant's back flipped up from the waist of the partially formed body to lock the new torso into place. A pair of blue optics surged to life in a tan face surrounded by Prowl's lion mane, the head of an eagle mounted above the mane, and a tusk jutting from the torso on either side of the head. Magnaboss was online. On the ground next to him were the detachable weapons they all possessed.



    The robot, which was nearly forty-five feet in height, reached down and connected the pieces to form a massive broadsword humming with power. The massive super-warrior looked down at the six-foot Razorbeast and smiled. "Excuse me while I fumigate." The giant turned squarely in the direction of the oncoming spider, which was still nearly sixty feet taller than Magnaboss, and unleashed an eruption of munitions from his chest. A pair of missiles and dozens of armor piercing rounds darted through the air and impacted heavily against the spider's head. The blasts and impacting rounds stopped the mechanical beast in its tracks momentarily, and revealed the destruction of all organic material on and around the blast points, including a pair of heavy dents where the missiles impacted, but despite the damage the spider resumed its advance. "Good, I was hoping for something a bit more hand's on to dispatch this thing."



    Magnaboss burst into a sprint, gracefully dodging and hurtling most trees and other obstacles, and barreling through those that proved unavoidable, covering the multiple mile distance separating the compound and the giant spider-base in a few minutes. It had been one hundred eleven years since the Decepticons had pioneered the first gestalt technology, and Magnaboss was living proof that despite the problems posed by the human-unleashed virus, significant advancements in the science of combinatics had been made. His three-robot composition left him smaller and slightly weaker physically than the original five and six robot comprised gestalts, but he had reflexes and agility greater than those of Predaking, and a level of intelligence on par with Computron's without the drawbacks possessed by the Technobot gestalt. High-level decisions were determined and acted upon almost instantly, strategic battle formations were compiled quickly, often times in the thick of heavy combat. Magnaboss was not only the first combiner to be entrusted with a battlefield command position more prominent than any of his core members, but he was one of the most respected combat commanders the Maximals had.



    Of course, the strategy chosen to employ against this oncoming threat was little more than the one used by the human child Ironhide had been scornfully watching earlier; take it out leg by leg. The fur and feather bearing warrior leapt through the air and slashed hard at the giant arachnid's right front leg, cutting nearly a foot deep into the thick armor just above the half-way point, but despite the damage the still functional leg aided by the remaining legs kept the spider upright. The giant arachnid twisted its head to spit forth a stream of acid at its attacker, but Magnaboss easily twisted and leapt from the attack the moment he hit the ground. The gestalt started toward another leg to hack at, but the sound of the Predacon Commander's amplified voice echoed throughout the swampy region. "Stand down, we did not come her to fight!"



    Magnaboss paused, knowing full well not to trust Megatron, but intrigued nonetheless. He also wasn't completely adverse to the idea of delaying further hostilities with this massive weapon that he likely couldn't overcome on his own. By the time Megatron was done delivering whatever load he wanted to deliver, reinforcements would probably be arriving. "Alright, show yourself!"



    The giant spider began lowering, and Magnaboss stepped out from under it as the abdomen slowly broke through the trees and came to a resting position on the marshy ground. A complex transformation ensued, and after nearly a minute an exposed mobile command center mounted on large sleds in the front and enormous tank treads in the rear occupied an area larger than a human football field. In the center of the command center stood a predominantly purple tyrannosaurus rex clutching the struggling Allen Bannister, Archeville's security chief, in his relatively diminutive left arm. "Why, if it isn't the legendary Magnaboss. It truly is an honor to finally meet you. That encounter with your component individuals was a little underwhelming."



    "Wardrobe change, Megatron?" Magnaboss replied as he took in the bestial form of the enemy leader.



    "The crocodilian form did have some advantages, but ultimately it was just too impractical to direct a battlefield with eyes only eight inches off the ground." The dinosaur replied as he stepped toward the Maximal. "Here, catch!" The Predacon commander tossed the captive human at the gestalt, who caught him in his orange hands and lowered him to the ground. "This one is the messenger, which is why I didn't kill him." The prehistoric beast snickered. "There was another human captured, one who actually made a good case for his continued survival. He is apparently the leading geneticist living on the planet, or at least he was up until a few hours ago, and promised me an accurate DNA sequence to one of this planet's most powerful carnivores. The genetic sequence seemed to cover all the important characteristics of the animal, but I questioned the purple skin pigmentation and cited it as a failure in his living up to his promise of accuracy. He did taste good though." The snickering rose to full on laughter.



    "Your chosen animal forms are having a significant effect on you, Megatron." Magnaboss remarked as the human took a step behind his enormous right leg. "What's next, peeing to mark your territory?"



    "There's no need," the T-rex sneered. "My territory knows no bounds." With that the base rose and folded itself back into its arachnid form. "I'd stay longer, but bantering with Maximals is a waste of time, and the human there will relay all that needs relaying."



    Magnaboss gripped his sword tightly as he witnessed the giant spider back up a few steps, turn, and then head off into the distance. The gestalt then turned and looked down at the human. "So what's this message?"



    Bannister's lip curled as he spat up at the giant. "For Archeville's ears only."



    "Of course."



    ***





    "Hello Nick, just thought I'd let you know that the radio centers have forwarded a message from the Archeville compound." The president said to the teenager entering the second oval office. "Your friend Bannister was returned and aside from some bumps and bruises, seems to be alright."



    Nick looked at the others in the room with the President, Agents Frank Warwick and Sam Horowitz stood at attention on either side of the doorway, and the Secretary of State, Lucy Warren, who was standing next to the seated President and handing him sealed envelopes that the armored mail courier had delivered that morning, smiled at the young man. Nick returned the smile as he addressed President Srisai. "He's not exactly my friend, but I'm glad he's OK. What happened to him?"



    "It turns out he was apprehended by the Predacons, but returned relatively unharmed with a message for Archeville." The President replied.



    "What was the message?" Nick asked.



    "Don't know, they didn't say. We've replied with that question and have received nothing back in over three hours." Srisai replied.



    "So they're stonewalling you." Nick nodded. "And you're now going to request that I return and see what I can find out, right?" The boy stopped as he got to the front of the large desk that Srisai was seated behind.



    Srisai exhaled deeply before answering. "I wish I could say that your cynicism was unfounded, but you're right, I was about to ask that of you." The boy thought quietly as the President continued. "But I recognize that that place is one you never wished to return to, and that I promised that you would never have to. So I will find other means to..."



    "I'll do it." Nick answered. Noting the President's shaking of his head, indicating that he did not want the boy to feel beholden into doing it, Nick smiled and shrugged. "Don't worry sir, I want to do it. I want to help others, as you so clearly do as well, and as Archeville so clearly does not. This is a way for me to maybe be of assistance to the greater good. Besides, I still have all my stuff there."



    The leader of what was left of the United States smiled at the boy, but was stunned as Nick lunged toward him, snatched the letter opener from the top of his desk, whirled around and flung the object into the shadow between a desk and a couch at the far end of the room, creating a 'thunk' as it sunk into something. "Holy ...!" The President exclaimed as both Secret Service agents had their firearms drawn and pointed at the boy in the blink of an eye.



    At seeing where Cavidge had thrown the letter opener, Sam Warwick turned and covered that area, and a moment later a large rat with the letter opener embedded in its neck came limping out. An angry string of alien dialogue, presumably profanity-laden, emerged from the rat's mouth before "Nice shot kid." came out.



    "It's one of them!" Sam called out as he immediately twisted his aim away from Cavidge to the robot in rat's clothing.



    "Relax Chief, I was the one that attacked Waspinator so that you could escape." The rodent muttered as it used its forelimbs to try and pry the letter opener out of its neck.



    "That very well may have been you, but there's a chance that whole conflict was staged." Sam snapped back, keeping his gun trained on the rat, who had just gotten the blade out of him.



    "Look, if I wanted you guys killed, you'd be dead." The rat spat out. "I've been in here for over an hour, and could have been through your President and out the window before you guys could have blinked. Heck, I could charge him right now and there'd be nothing you guys could do other than tickle me with those lead-pellets. The kid's throw tore through my organic parts, but didn't even scratch my real body." The rodent sauntered toward the center of the room. "I've been sent by Optimus Primal, and I can prove it. The kid's name is Nicolas Cavidge, he arrived at the Archeville compound on April 15, 2086, his mother Amanda passed away from ovarian cancer on May 6, 2093, and Nick buried her between the rose garden and the largest orange tree."



    "Don't you talk about my mother!" Nick snarled at the rodent.



    "Or what, you'll throw another letter opener at me?" The rat snapped back, but quickly relaxed. "I'm sorry kid, but for me to verify that I'm affiliated with Primal, Prowl, Ironhide and Silverbolt, I need to provide details that would be known to you and nobody else; you're the only one from the Archeville compound present. And unfortunately, the details that your pals at the compound were willing to supply Prowl were few and far between. Especially when it came to you. Officially they don't really let you in on much, so we're forced to deal with your personal life."



    At that moment Kristen walked into the room. "Hey Dad, I was wondering..." The first daughter froze as she saw the enormous rat standing in the center of the room. At her side was her constant companion K-9, who initially paused at seeing the rat before growling and approaching it slowly.



    Frank Warwick noted the dog's pause as the President addressed the rat. "So we're suppose to simply accept you're a Maximal because you have some basic knowledge of the Archeville compound or general details regarding this boy's life? The compound's head of security was recently in Predacon hands, I'm sure he's aware of where Nick's mother is buried and could have divulged that information. So please understand if we're skeptical." Despite the President's skepticism, Frank relaxed a bit.



    The rat nodded and looked up at Nick. "Does Bannister know that you lost your virginity to his older sister five years ago?"



    Nick started blushing deeply, his reddening getting worse as he heard Kristen gasp. "What?"



    "It gets better." The rat snickered. "She was married."



    "That'd make you twelve when it happened." Kristen's voice seemed less shocked and more sympathetic this time, despite the revelation that Nick had been with a married woman.



    "See, he's not denying it." The rat muttered as he cowered from the encroaching canine. "Now keep that blasted dog away from me!"



    "Enough!" Nick demanded. "Miriam's got a big f..." the boy pursed his lips and looked at the floor, though he was very much aware that everyone was looking at him. His eyes still on the floor, he whispered just loud enough for the others to hear. "He's legit. Only Miriam knew that."



    "I'd like to transform now." The rat stated. "And please open the window. I've got a winged colleague waiting outside whose diplomacy skills are much greater than mine."



    The President turned, opened a window behind him, then walked back to his desk and sat down. "Go ahead." The rodent then transformed into a three-foot robot and tossed a previously concealed pistol to Frank. A moment later a peregrine falcon swooped into the room, transformed into a five-foot tall feminine robot and landed next to the other robot.



    "I'd like to go now." Nick said as he started walking toward the door, his eyes down to avert everyone else's.



    Nobody bothered to stop him, but Kristen followed him into the hallway. "Nick, wait up." He didn't, but Kristen jogged to catch up to him. "Hey look, you've got nothing to be ashamed of. You were a child."



    Nick stopped and peered at her. "Look Kristen, I'm not ashamed. I'm just a little freaked out by having a big alien rat talk about my mother's death and me getting my cherry popped."



    Kristen nodded. "Alright, but just know that nobody thinks any less of you. And if you need to talk about any of this..."



    Nick's brow furrowed in mock confusion. "Uh, thanks, but I'm not all that worried about other people's opinions of me. And I really don't need to be psycho-analyzed over this." The young man forced a fake smile and did his best to make light of the subject. "I'm not a chick, a twelve-year-old guy getting laid is a good thing. I didn't leave her room to spend an hour in the fetal position taking an I'm-so-dirty shower, I laid back in my bed and reminisced."



    Kristen shook her head in disgust. "Fine, be a pig." She started walking away but turned back toward him. "I'm glad you're so at ease with what happened to you, but like it or not you were a child, it was rape, and it wasn't funny for one of my friends when she was crying in the shower afterward." She watched Nick's face wince as she drove her point home, and she immediately felt bad for coming down on him so hard. His making light of what happened to him was a defense mechanism, and she knew it. "I...I'm sorry, it's not,"



    "No." Nick whispered, looking down at the floor. "You're right, it's not something for me to make fun of." He looked up into her eyes. "But I am OK, and don't need to talk about it. So please, just let it drop."



    They maintained eye contact for several moments before she nodded. "Sure. But the offer to talk stands if you change your mind." Nick nodded, and she smiled at him. "I'd better get back into the office. I think I owe that rat some thanks. I'm pretty sure he was the rat that attacked the wasp that was trying to abduct me." She stifled a laugh. "God that's probably the most ridiculous sentence I've ever uttered." She turned and walked into the office.



    Nick looked down and saw the dog K-9 staring up at him. The young man's gaze hardened into a stare. "Do me a favor and tell Primal to leave me and my personal life out of your slagging crusade." Cavidge turned and marched away.



    K-9 turned and went back into the oval office, where the President was addressing the small robot. "Look...Airrazor, Rattrap, if you really are descended from the Autobots, then we'll be eager to provide any support you need. But we can not afford to take anything for granted. Your changing of your faction name and symbol doesn't help us to equate you to our old allies. Maybe if one of the Autobots that was known to us was to pay a visit."



    "With all due respect sir, the actions of your predecessors have made that an impossibility." Airrazor replied. "The treatment we came up with to counter-act the virus was developed fairly recently. Those who were forced to endure the ravages of the virus for decades will need many more years of recovery before they can function at even the most basic level. The most robust specimens of our species might be able to make a fairly quick recovery..."



    "But most of them never made it home." Rattrap grumbled accusingly.



    "What does that mean?" Kristen asked.



    "Honey, please, this really is a matter of national security." President Srisai pressed his daughter as he indicated for her to leave.



    "Fine. I just wanted to thank the rat for helping me the other day." Kristen muttered and then looked at Rattrap. "Thanks."



    "No problem kid." The buck-toothed robot replied to the departing young woman.



    Kristen shut the door behind her, and Srisai addressed the two robots. "There have been rumors circulating for as far back as I can remember about Autobot and Decepticon prisoners, but I swear to you, I have yet to come across anything to give these rumors credence. There may very well be Cybertronians here on this planet, and they very well may have been taken into custody by this or other human governments, but due to the loss of all electronic data and most written data, I've got no knowledge of such matters."



    "I apologize for my friend's comment, this discussion is not why we're here." Airrazor said. "We're only trying to facilitate a meeting between you and Optimus Primal. He's the one that will want to discuss this and other matters with you."



    "Of course." The President replied. "Let's hammer out the details."





    *





    While it would seem to be a simple process, determining the where and when had taken the group over ten minutes. Once finalized, Frank offered to escort the two Maximals to the perimeter fence, and made their way quietly until they were about fifty feet from reaching it. "Excuse me Mr. Warwick, but may I please have a strand of your hair?" Airrazor requested.



    "A strand of my hair?" Frank laughed. "Why, planning on having me be the beast mode for one of your pals?"



    "Not a bad idea." Rattrap quipped.



    "No, I ask because you've registered as a hit in our database when we scanned the Presidential compound, but we need a closer scan of your DNA's Y-chromosome for verification." Airrazor explained.



    Frank plucked a hair from his head and handed it to her. "A hit, huh?" He doubted their story, but realized the need for them to maintain appearances and not compromise K-9's cover.



    Airrazor placed the hair into scanning equipment built into her wrist as she replied. "Upon initial scan you appear possess a series of short tandem repeats that match DNA sequences of the Y Chromosomes for three sets of DNA in our ship's databanks."



    "Let me guess, those DNA sequences belong to Sparkplug, Spike and Daniel Witwicky." Frank smiled. "Right?"



    Airrazor nodded as the results on her wrist computer verified that guess. "Yes, it would appear so, Mr. Warwick." She looked up at the human and continued. "We have no desire to cause any harm to your planet or those on it, nor are we looking for retribution for what was done to our Autobot ancestors. But we do wish to bring them home and get them the treatment they need and deserve."



    "And my legacy is to help you do that." Frank smiled and looked around to make sure nobody was paying them any undue attention. In the distance outside the perimeter stood a herd of bison roaming carefree, huddled together with the exception of one large loner who seemed to be a pariah to the rest of the herd. Far beyond the lone bison stood a large lone wolf wandering the tree line, apparently stalking the vastly larger animals. Though an interesting scene, Frank ignored the animals and continued his conversation. "I can tell you the American government took Optimus Prime, Ultra Magnus and a majority of the other Autobots. Where they located them I do not know, but Prime was able to get something to Spike, who passed it on to Daniel. I still need to be certain that this Optimus Primal is on the level before I discuss this matter further, but believe me, I'm sure your boss would be very interested in obtaining this object."



    "Thank you." Airrazor said.

    "Wait, that's it?" Rattrap blurted out.

    "Rattrap!" Airrazor scolded.

    "No, I do have something else." The human offered. "It's just a rumor, but something you may wish to check on. The Dinobots managed to stave off the debilitating effects of the virus longer than most, and managed to make their way to the coast and disappear into the north Pacific. Prior to the mutation of the virus and the subsequent end of the world as they knew it, Daniel and his son Mitchell followed up on a rumor that a Russian sub had found one of the Dinobots, and managed to track it to the southern portion of the Kamchatka Peninsula, but couldn't pinpoint it any further than that. Maybe with your scanning equipment, you can do better."

    "It's something to work with." The grateful Airrazor said. "Thank you Frank Warwick."
     
  14. darksage78

    darksage78 Maximal

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    Woah pretty awesome. Hope we find out how Maximal command works so far. Do you intend for Ironhide, Prowl and Silverbolt to be equals with Primal? And are they the original G1 vers?
     
  15. rerunwatson99

    rerunwatson99 Well-Known Member

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    good story as usual peteynorth!
    can't wait to read the rest
     
  16. red00wolf

    red00wolf insatiable collector

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    nice!
     
  17. Rotorstorm

    Rotorstorm OriginalRotorstorm Fanboy

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    hope you carry on with this. it's a good read
     

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