Passion

Discussion in 'Transformers Fan Fiction' started by Vangelus, Feb 5, 2006.

  1. Vangelus

    Vangelus Long Live the New Flesh Moderator Content Contributor

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    The history of Cybertron is marred with the scars of war. Tapestries of conflict unfurl from the planet's weary memory.

    Legends were written. Myths were given life. The most noble of sacrifices gave birth to great victories.

    And sometimes, even a fleeting generation of peace and evolution came to fruition.

    However, it was during one such transitionary period that the civilization the cosmos would name "The Transformers"...was nearly dropped into the abyss of extinction.

    This was not a tale of glory, or war.

    This was a story of Passion.


    ----------

    "This is not meant to be a sacrifice, nor is it a downgrade."

    The green robot walked towards the screen, his voice filled with the soothing charisma of a trained politician.

    "No, my friends. It is an evolutionary step in the history of our race. Sign up for the Maximal Reformatting immediately, and-"

    With a brief hiss of static, the channel changed.

    "Do you need a little R&R? Maybe some time away from home?"

    Staged shots of a white shuttle attempted to fill potential viewers with a sense of adventure.

    "Then come down to Galaxy Shuttle Travel Agency, and let us show you the true -edge-...of the universe!"

    The elaborate logo completed half of its flashy animation before it, and all other current broadcasts were abruptly halted.

    A blue newscaster sat calmly at his desk.

    "We interrupt all TeleVid programming with this urgent bulletin. Several cycles ago, the GM Rehabilitation Facility was taken over by an unknown terrorist faction. No demands have been made, but the New Iacon Militia has already been called to attention."

    The image's quality fluttered, slightly.

    "Do not leave your quarters. Repeat: Do not leave your qua-"

    All vidscreens across Cybertron slammed into darkness. Then, in the centre of the broadcast, a symbol appeared. A red oval, pierced down the center by a dark line, and crowned by a pair of dark horns.

    A cold voice spoke.

    "Denizens of Cybertron...do not attempt to block this signal. The following transmission is being broadcast over all known communication wavelengths."

    ----------

    The gleaming towers of New Iacon stood tall and proud, as crowds of commuters milled about beneath them.

    ----------

    "Your planet has become a nigh-utopia of peace and harmony. The Great Wars have concluded, and all remnants of the former 'terrible enemy' have degraded into roving mobs of slag."

    ----------

    In a dark alleyway, a hunched figure watched the pirated airwaves on a small, half-functional vidbox. Shrouded in shadows, his crimson optic visor burned in the darkness.

    ----------

    "Life is bereft of conflict and warfare. But...such rewards came upon you...at a price."

    ----------

    Pedestrian traffic slowed and halted as more confused onlookers gathered around public vidscreens on the streets of New Iacon.

    ----------

    "All great things are heralded by sacrifice. And that which you owe your lackluster lives to...is one of the greatest injustices of our planet's time."

    ----------

    Treads and wheels ground against metallic panels as the New Iacon Militia speeded towards the GM Rehabilitation Facility. A dark, crimson glow radiated from its location, giving the horizon a malevolent tint.

    ----------

    "We, the victims of your desire for peace, have risen from the grave you consigned us to."

    ----------

    The speaker lowered his head slightly, glaring at the growing specks in the distance. He knew the enemy's reinforcements were sparse cycles away.

    ----------

    "We have risen to show you the price of your naivety."

    The transmission ended.
     
  2. Vangelus

    Vangelus Long Live the New Flesh Moderator Content Contributor

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    Dramatized Excerpt

    Vocals + Mixing - Myself
    Music - Shini (Divine Will) from the Casshern OST
     
  3. Grimlock_13

    Grimlock_13 Reformed Geewunner

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    Dude, that Dramatized Excerpt is AWESOME.
     
  4. Fairlady_Z

    Fairlady_Z Official Voice of Flareup

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    Nice. The dramatized exerpt is a really cool addition. Are you going to write more? This feel like a prologue to a link between G1 and BW story. Are we going to find out more about the identity of the speaker? Even if you don't write any more the mutimedia angle gives the story something really different. Good work.
     
  5. Vangelus

    Vangelus Long Live the New Flesh Moderator Content Contributor

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    "C'mon! You'll never get into the academy at this rate."

    "You're one to talk!"

    The two Cybertronians, one blue and one orange, sprinted across the bridge, engaged in the thrill of friendly competition. The blue one's servos gave out a small whine as they pushed the limits of their exertion.

    "Hh...come...on...!"

    Neck and neck, the pair drew nearer to their imaginary finish-line. Then, with one final burst, the orange one dove across the finish line, as his blue friend tumbled across the ground, her servos finally giving up.

    "Hahaa!"

    "Khh...you ever hear of a sore -winner-?"

    "Aw, get over it and let me celebrate."

    The blue one got to her feet, glowering slightly.

    "You know, if this were the real thing-"

    "Alright, already! Primus, you'd think there was another Great War on the horizon. It's peace-time! Live a little!"

    "We race across half of Old Iacon without alt-modes and he tells me to-...hey..."

    The orange one had reached for his forehead. The blue one thought it was nothing, but her friend had stopped moving. She slowly approached, reaching a hand forward.

    "Krion...?"

    Suddenly, several bright sparks shot out of the orange one's left temple.

    "Hgh-AAAAAGHK-..."

    Slowly, his hand lowered away from his face. A tiny scorchmark marred the metal above one of his eyes.

    His fearful eyes.

    "Krion, what-"


    ----------

    "Commander Draykon!"

    Snapping out of her dream, the deep-blue tank at the head of the squadron came to a halt. Her three crimson subordinates followed suit.

    "Ma'am, are you alright? We've arrived at the coordinates of that pirate broadcast-"

    "I'm fine. Everyone, we move on foot from here."

    A unison of affirmatives made Draykon relax, slightly. She remembered where she was. When she was.

    With a sound known throughout the galaxy, New Iacon Militia Sub-Commander Draykon transformed into robot mode, along with the trio under her command. The quickly moved towards the grim spires of the GD Rehabilitation Facility.

    Flames grew in intensity as they drew nearer. The four militants found it somewhat relieving to see that the cause of the sinister glow that had been haunting their optics for the last few cycles was nothing more than heat and oxydization. However, it was not long before idle chatter began.

    "Hey, Ledge...this place gives me the creeps, man."

    "Thanks, Zepp. Thanks. That really helps."

    "Ah, calm down, you minibots. This is just some medical research whatever."

    "That's not what I heard. I heard this is where they throw all the crazies. You know...plasma-guzzlers, chaos cultists, Punch-Counterpunch. Man, if I see -him- I swear I'm outta here-"

    Draykon's voice cut into the mounting tension like a metallikato blade.

    "This is the GD Rehabilitation Facility. People with GD get sent here to be fixed."

    The silence was brief, but soon fell away.

    "You mean locked up 'til their mental circuits incinerate..."

    "At least they're cutting them out of the Spark-pool before Maximal reformats become standard-"

    "Where'd you hear that? I sure as the Pit aren't downsizing to fleshling scale."

    "Company, halt," commanded Draykon.

    The trio behind her came to a halt, and looked around.

    "Weren't we supposed to have back-up?"

    "Look up," she replied.

    ----------

    The main entrance of the GD Rehabilitation Facility was demolished. In front of it, behind several makeshift barricades, were two squads of New Iacon Militiabots.

    Their commander, a slightly weedy-looking Cybertronian, stood with practiced authority, holding an amplifier in front of his mouth.

    "Attention, terrorist faction!" he bellowed. "Come out, with all tactile appendages in the air! Any of you so much as shift a panel, and we -will- open fire!"

    Nodding to himself, he turned around, and nearly walked straight into Draykon.

    "Sub-commander!" he sputtered. "What on Earth are you doing here? I -have- this under control."

    "HQ wanted to send back-up, especially considering how well you dealt with your -last- major emergency."

    His optics narrowed slightly, as he glanced to the side.

    "The light was not very good-"

    "You thought Bruticus had been reanimated."

    "It is a very likely possibility that-"

    "We've -all- seen what Bruticus looks like now. You've been getting far too deep in that Earth culture slag."

    "Listen," he hissed. "You and your three stooges can take up a rearguard position. I will -not- have you stealing my credit again, understand?"

    "Clear as crystal, Soran. Try not to crack one of your vocalizers if they storm out of there dressed like Predaking."

    Draykon's men snickered in ensemble as they and their commander left the immediate scene.

    ----------

    Soran quietly turned back to the GD Rehabilitation Facility's entrance, and raised the amplifier.

    "You have ten cycles to show yourselves, terrorists! Surrender, or prepare to meet your maker!"

    "Arrogant."

    Soran and his squad all looked up at the source of the cold voice that had just spoken.

    "Arrogant puppets, all of them."

    Atop the main spire of the GD Rehabilitation Facility stood three shadowed figures. The one in the centre stepped forward, as he continued to speak.

    "This day marks the beginning of a new crusade. A quest of justice and vengeance."

    His grey-toned body was unimpressive, at a glance. Large metal plates hung from his shoulders like a cloak, concealing his chest and upper arms. On one forearm, a large cannon had been haphazardly grafted.

    "For all those that have been wronged by a society not fit for its own ill-gotten rewards..."

    Over one eye, a large monocle flared with crimson light. Over it, lay a thin strip of metal, dividing the circle in half.

    "Pheye has declared war."

    ----------

    The gates of the GD Rehabilitation Facility blew open as white-shelled robots poured out. Their three-pronged control helmets fizzled and sparked as they madly rushed towards Soran's squad.

    "My god..." he uttered, as his mouth gaped slightly. "He...he released the inmates..."

    Soran pointed at the oncoming horde.

    "He released the inmates!! Open fire!! NOW!!"

    A torrent of laser fire cut into the mob of GD-afflicted Cybertronians. Many fell immediately, but some pushed forward despite grievous injury.

    Pheye glanced at the two shadowed figures behind him. One was lean, and the other was a giant.

    "Prepare to shift. First, I will make an example of these puppets."

    With that, he leapt from his perch, landing amongst the throng of inmates. They peeled around him, keeping their distance.

    "That fool," sneered Soran. "He's giving us a clear shot! Focus fire on the leader, men! Let's end this -now-."

    ----------

    Draykon watched the firefight with slight disgust. Behind her, her men were sitting on a long-unused staircase, clearly bored out of their sparks.

    "See the game, last night?"

    The orator had leapt straight into the front lines. Draykon watched as he slowly raised the cannon that was attached to his arm.

    "Yeah. I think that Overhaul guy is on some serious plasma, you ask me."

    Soran's men had focused their firepower on him. The combined laser blasts cleaved through all the inmates that had tried to form a body-shield around their leader.

    "Man, Ledge, everyone knows he's really Brawn."

    Draykon frowned, slightly. The multi-colored blasts of energy were not hitting home. They seemed to be bending away from the inmate leader's weapon.

    "...Brawn's dead, Zepp."

    Within nanocycles, the reflected blasts were changing course again. The cannon seemed to be absorbing them, along with the rest of the continued laser fire.

    The cannon began to glow.

    Draykon's eyes widened.

    "Man, they only -say- he's dead. I've got these dataweb sites bookmarked that- Hey! Where's the bosslady going?"

    "Who knows. Probably gonna beat up that weed of a commander Squad C has, up there."

    "Should we follow?"

    "Nah. We got orders."

    "Right. Rearguard."

    "So. On the topic of the dataweb...check out these Nightbird II prototype pics I found."

    "...whoa."

    "Please tell me they're gonna leave the chestplate off, like that."

    ----------

    Draykon raced towards the scene of the battle, hoping she was not too late.

    She could hear the increasingly-high-pitched whine of the inmate leader's cannon as she approached the rearmost squad.

    "Hold your fire! HOLD YOUR FIRE!!"

    The two militants of Squad C let go of the triggers of their weapons and glanced back, somewhat confused. Draykon was soon in front of them, shouting at Soran.

    "SORAN!! STOP SHOOTING AND TAKE COVER!!"

    The head of Squad C looked over his shoulder, clearly irritated.

    "I thought I told you to rearguard!"

    "Tell your men to take cover, NOW!!"

    "Heh. I thought you would be above this kind of petty-"

    ----------

    Pheye's monocle lit up.

    "Justice."

    ----------

    An enormous burst of energy rocketed forth from the inmate leader's arm cannon. It ripped through the two frontmost militants in nanoclicks, shredding their bodies into oblivion. Soran turned as he heard their muffled cries, just in time to see his end bearing down upon him. His optics widened as he took half a step back.

    "Wait-"

    Draykon grabbed the two militants beside her and dove to the ground.

    "Waa-AAAAIIEEEEEEE--**"

    Soran shrieked as his gloss-coated finish incinerated off his body. His wail increased in volume, then suddenly stopped, as his outer plating and circuitry was sheared away. He was silent as his skeletal servos melted into a puddle of molten alloy.

    Suffice to say, the rest of his squad fared only slightly better.

    Their cries of agony were not quite as terrified.

    The only two survivors, along with Draykon, stared up from the ground. A wave of rippling energy passed over them, the heat causing static in their optic feedback.

    As the blast subsided, Draykon clambered out of the now half-melted barricade that saved her life. She glared up at the inmate leader.

    His expression was grim, and devoid of emotion.

    "He doesn't care..."

    Draykon reached down, picking up one of the two Squad C survivors' rifles. They were of no help, as they were still working on standing up.

    "That weapon's got to be out of power! Get a clear shot and-"

    Her words were cut off by a loud crash, as the giant shadow leapt from the main spire of the GD Rehabilitation Facility and landed with a shockwave of impact in front of his leader. Draykon ducked back under cover, peering over the molten edge of the barricade.

    ----------

    "MonoBlast," Pheye commanded, looking up at the titanic robot. "Shift our new home."

    A booming voice emanted from the shadowed behemoth.

    "For the end of days, my liege."

    The massive robot's right arm lifted, unfolding into an enormous weapon. It plunged the tip into the ground, and the entire facility began to shake and shudder.

    Pheye looked at the burning Cybertronian corpses he had left in his wake, as he and the GD Rehabilitation Facility began to shimmer with light.

    "I despise arrogance," he muttered.

    With an enormous flash, the facility, its inmates, and the trio that led them all vanished.

    ----------

    "Draykon to HQ. Drakon to HQ. Can anyone read me?"

    The two survivors of Squad C were both sitting on their own, quietly overcome with shock. Draykon's men kept their eyes on them.

    "What in the Pit could've caused all this..."

    "It's just like the Sentinel revolt, back in-"

    "Subcommander Draykon, this is HQ," buzzed her communicator. "Report status, please. We detected a large energy surge in your area."

    "Squad C was wiped out, sir. Only two survivors. Subcommander Soran is dead."

    "...please repeat, Draykon, we're not sure we-"

    "The GD Rehab Facility, along with the terrorists responsible for Squad C's murder, all teleported out, somehow. They had a large chaos cultist operating the device."

    "That's impossible. We didn't detect any Spacebridge activity, and the Skywarp technology is strictly under our jurisdiction, now."

    "Only telling you what I saw, sir. Any orders?"

    "Wait there until our forensics crew arrive. Return with them once they're through, and then report in for debriefing."

    "Roger that, sir."

    "HQ out."

    Draykon clicked off her communicator, and looked at the grisly scene that remained.

    ----------

    Why the GD patients? What could that slag-sucking bastard want with our doomed?

    ----------

    "This just ain't right, Ledge..."

    "I know, man. War's supposed to be over."

    "Bots aren't supposed to die like this. Not anymore..."

    There was a brief silence.

    "Brawn coulda taken it."

    "Ah, shut up about Brawn, already-"

    "I'm serious! Everyone knew he was faking it when he 'allegedly' died in that shuttle explosion over on Earth..."
     
  6. Vangelus

    Vangelus Long Live the New Flesh Moderator Content Contributor

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    Thanks! :D  It's something I've been doing with my City of Heroes stories over the last year and a half.

    I'm planning to sporadically update this, as I get the creative twinge. I have had lots of this story in my head for years, so it tends to pour out in bursts.

    You're sorta right on the setting, incidentally. :)  And thanks for the compliments!
     
  7. Dragon Girl

    Dragon Girl Well-Known Member

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    I like this, it should be interesting to keep an eye on. Though um, what's "GD" stand for?
     
  8. McBradders

    McBradders James Franco Club! Moderator

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    Vang you are teh man. TEH.
     
  9. Fairlady_Z

    Fairlady_Z Official Voice of Flareup

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    Finally read part two. Brawn lives! Or does he? But he sure does look like Overhaul. I never noticed that before.

    I like Draykon. She seems a capable commander. And Zepp & Liege provide some good comic relief in what could become a dark and violent fic (not that there's anything wrong with dark and violent), just that those two provided a really nice contrast to the slaughter going on around them.

    Normally I'm wary of fics with so many OCCs. But your multimedia got me really intrigued and now I begin to see why people like to use OCCs. It allows for further exploration of the TF universe and society beyond the normal Bots and Cons. The TFs really are a great sci-fi concept. How would a robotic society not built by humans opperate? I really like how your fanfic is giving us a slice of that beyond the norm. It's fascinating. Keep up the good work. And I hope inspiration strikes enough that you continue this story.
     
  10. Vangelus

    Vangelus Long Live the New Flesh Moderator Content Contributor

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    What does it stand for indeed! :D 

    Internet Police ETARNAL

    Hehe, I always tend to like interspersing comedy into dark and violent bits. :D  Habit of mine, and I feel it makes things less uncomfortable.

    Those are big reasons for my using OCCs, yep. *nods* I also just don't trust myself to write for existing characters...I would very likely end up having them do OOC things based on the attributes I tend to give my own creations. >.>

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

    Well, I'm currently on a Eurotrip, and getting lotsa writing inspiration. Hopefully I'll have the next part of this done up sometime soon. :D 

    Thanks for the support so far, all!
     
  11. Vangelus

    Vangelus Long Live the New Flesh Moderator Content Contributor

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    "...what?"

    "Your debriefing is concluded, Sub-Commander."

    Draykon's faceplate masked her confusion.

    "I...don't understand, sir. What is our course of action?"

    "Should we require your unit, Sub-Commander, you will be given plenty of notice."

    "With all due respect-"

    "Sub-Commander Draykon, our civilization is approaching a new era. We do not have the time -or- resources to pursue an insignificant terrorist faction such as the one described by both your accounts and what we were able to scavenge from Soran's remains."

    Clenching her fist, Draykon slowly turned on her heel.

    "Understood."

    "Draykon." General Armorscale's voice softened slightly as he switched off the recording device. "I know how you felt about that facility."

    "Feel. How I feel."

    "I'm sorry, but...surely you can understand my reasoning. Soon, Maximal Reformatting won't be a service for the military and social elite. You've seen the reports; we're nearing a species-wide transformation, here."

    "I already said I understand."

    Armorscale shook his head, touching a finger to his temple.

    "You must realize that I'm not unhurt by this turn of events. It troubles me that an unchecked energy weapon is lurking out there. And we were both Krion's friends-"

    Angered optics turned to face him.

    "Don't you -dare- use his name to justify this."

    He glanced down at his desk, the mask of authority shaken.

    "I..."

    "You've heard that I understand your orders, General." Draykon turned and walked towards the exit. "My unit is taking its allocated leave time, effective immediately."

    Armorscale glanced up, slightly.

    "I understand."

    "No. You don't."

    ----------

    "Leave time? Sweet!"

    Ledge threw Zepp a clanking high-five. The third member of Draykon's unit rubbed his palms together with glee.

    "This means I can get to work on downloading more of those Nightbird glamor shots..."

    "Hey, no smut without sharing, buddy."

    "Yeah! I'm the one that -showed- you that site in the first place, too."

    "We're heading to the former site of the GM Rehabilitation Facility." Draykon's voice pierced throught he mirth.

    "What?"

    "Ledge, Zepp, you two head out to secure the location."

    "Whoa, wait one nanoclick-"

    "I thought we were on leave!"

    Draykon slowly crossed her arms. "I'm not dropping this case. We'll just have to start working off the record."

    Ledge squinted one optic. "But..."

    "Go."

    The pair shuffled out of the room. Draykon turned to the third member of her squad.

    "I'm going to need you to bring some of your equipment, Tartan."

    "Ehh..." The red-hued Cybertronian glanced away from his commander's face. "You mean the 'off-the-record' equipment, I'm guessing."

    "That's why I said it."

    "Ma'am...can I be frank for a cycle?"

    "If that gets you moving, then yes."

    "You've been...well, you've been acting really...emotional? No, no, I mean-"

    Draykon remained silent.

    "-maybe me and the boys'll be more comfortable doing this stuff for you if we knew what the story was. I mean, we all owe you enough to not ask questions, but...well, what's so important about that nuthouse?"

    A long pause only managed to worry Tartan further.

    "Get your equipment and meet us at the site." With that, Draykon turned and left the room.

    "Oiy..." Tartan opened his storage locker, reaching inside. "I swear, -this time- if I almost get killed I'm running. No questions."

    He lifted a 'PlayBot Chestplates of the Season' datapad, and pressed a switch underneath. A hidden space opened within his locker.

    ----------

    A small piece of detritus was crushed beneath the treads of Draykon's vehicle mode as she headed for the former location of the GM Rehabilitation Facility.

    "There's more to this than any of them are letting themselves believe," she thought. "A reason is all I need...just need to find a reason, and they'll pick up the investigation again."

    The now-deserted hill that once bore the Facility rose into view over the horizon.

    "...Krion..."

    ----------

    "What are you standing around for?"

    Draykon marched towards Ledge and Zepp, who were standing in one of the open spaces that the battle with Pheye's terrorists had created. Their arms hung at their sides, and their faces were too tense for comfort.

    "Uh..."

    "I told you two to secure the area."

    "We..."

    "Your lackeys really need to take their jobs more seriously," spoke a smooth voice from behind Draykon's view. She began to turn, but felt the barrel of a weapon press against the back of her head.

    "Now," continued her assailant, "whatever could you be doing out -here- at such an hour?"
     
  12. DeltaSilver88

    DeltaSilver88 The Goddess of Death

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    ..........Wow. One of the best OC fics I've read so far. :wink:  This is definitely in my favorites list, along with MariaShadow's Black Ops team fics. And that dramatized excerpt is amazing. Gave me the creeps from the beginning. Did you base that on any of your existing fandub voices?
     
  13. Vangelus

    Vangelus Long Live the New Flesh Moderator Content Contributor

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    Thanks very much! :D 

    And no, the voices for this are based on my original creating of this story's canon bible a couple years back.
     
  14. Vangelus

    Vangelus Long Live the New Flesh Moderator Content Contributor

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    "Reload."

    The weapon scraped against the back of Draykon's head as she muttered the word.

    "Come on, lipless," sneered the voice. "There are rules to the game, and right now you're answering my questions."

    "Reload," repeated Draykon.

    "Say it one more time and I'll start thinking you want us to be sparkmates." Reload chuckled. "You know, now I have a second question. Why is it that I never feel like you're listening to me, even when I put a gun to your head?"

    "Because we stopped taking you seriously back before the giants went nuts," shouted Tartan.

    Reload whirled around as Tartan set down a heavy transport crate, and frowned. "Tartan, buddy. I'm hurt." He lowered the pistol from Draykon's head.

    "I hate liars, Reload," said Draykon. "Let me protect your integrity."

    "Wh-OW!" Reload's audio receptors rang as Draykon's palm slammed into the side of his head.

    "What are you doing out here?" asked Tartan. "I thought you were going to go explore the grand, uncharted regions of Nebulon's new mech-resort."

    "Eh, missed my plane." Reload absently rubbed the side of his head. He glanced at Ledge and Zepp, whose expressions were slowly shifting into utter confusion.

    "Get back to securing the area," ordered Draykon. "I would have warned you about Reload if I thought he was still on-planet."

    "Right...ma'am." Ledge shook his head slightly, as he and Zepp stepped away to establish a perimeter.

    "Tartan," she continued. "Head to the former facility site and scan for any off-chart residuals."

    "I'll try to call if a Dweller eats me," muttered Tartan. He pulled some instruments out of the transport crate and left the area.

    Reload holstered his weapons.

    "So-"

    His words ended with a sharp inhalation as Draykon grabbed him by his collar piping. Her eyes flared with anger.

    "There's only one reason why you would have 'missed' that flight. Where is he? I swear to you, if I find out he got excommed from the system, I'll rewire Throttlebot turbines into your drive shaft with a Nucleon extractor."

    "Are you nuts?! Like I'd turncoat for that Maximal Reformat garbage the powers are peddling to the masses right now!"

    "Prove it."

    "Fine." Reload shook his head as Draykon released him, and muttered, "You try and keep an eye on a friend, and they give you the Quintesson treatment."

    He manually disconnected several exhaust feeds on his chestplate, and then tapped his left bicep.

    It stirred.

    Then, it sprang forward, off of its host. The small mass of engine transformed into a humanoid shape as it landed on the ground, and glanced up at Draykon. Haphazard plating covered its body, and a wispy beard hung from its chin.

    "I was sleeping, girl."

    "Abrahms." Draykon's voice softened to a slightly friendlier tone. "I'm sorry. I just needed to make sure Reload didn't hand you off to the authorities...a lot of Nebulon-tech partners have been getting excommed ever since the Maximal program hit the public waves."

    "You know us better than that," chuckled Abrahms.

    "And a Powermaster Drive is still the best energy output a Cybertronian can ask for," added Reload. "Tweak the safeties, learn to mix a Nucleon-base Energon supply, and you're leaving those Maximal midgets in the dust."

    "You can see that our rapport is still a hallmark of civility," said Abrahms. "I think that soon, he may refer to me as a living being while in the company of others. I give it a century or so."

    "Yeah, whatever. I'll go make sure Chaos cultists don't offer Tartan up to the moon or something." Reload grumbled as he headed towards Tartan's position.

    Draykon knelt down, partly for the sake of Abrahm's neck.

    "It's good to see that the Nucleon hasn't harmed you yet."

    "Nothing permanent," said Abrahms. "I'm about 8% less organic than the last time we talked, though. Had to replace my appendix with a coolant valve. Nebulon preservative treatments or not, I'm only human. I think I'll have to make the big full-mech decision sometime this decade."

    "Staying with that idiot certainly can't be helping your condition."

    "Ahh," he waved a hand. "You know why he's like that. I'd feel guilty to desert him."

    Draykon nodded, as a brief pause spliced into the conversation.

    After a beat, Abrahms spoke again.

    "Have you reconsidered visiting Earth?"

    "No."

    "I think it'd do you good, Drayk."

    "I see enough of Earth here on Cybertron. No offense."

    "It's the nature of allied cultures to adopt. And it's hardly anything new-"

    "No. Thank you. I just can't see myself gaining anything positive from going there."

    Abrahms sighed. "I'm still sorry about your friend, but we've been through this before. I don't see how you can blame Earth for GD..."

    "And I don't see any other way."

    Another silence.

    "...well, I need to get back to sleep," said Abrahms. "It's nice to see a familiar face, Drayk."

    He yawned, and left to rejoin Reload.

    ----------

    "-and as construction continues on the Maximal Hub, the citizens of Cybertron seem more united than ever. But what of the mysterious incident several megacycles ago? General Armorscale of the New Iacon Militia had these words for the media."

    "The GD Rehabilitation Centre was an unfortunate occurrence, but our forces have almost completed the operation to find and eradicate the small terrorist group responsible. However, we must not let them deter us from what is most important. When this new city is complete, it will not only mark a new age in the history of our people. It will also be a testament to our stalwart belief in the protection of peace, and the prosperity of an evolved, happier Cybertron."

    "Public opinion in favour of the Maximal Hub is staggering. And, it seems that the the GD Rehabilitation Centre incident has been all but dealt with by our military, and all but forgotten by the public. And now, over to our Earth-side correspondent, for the newest trends from the other side of the galaxy-"
     
  15. Fairlady_Z

    Fairlady_Z Official Voice of Flareup

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    I'm really loving Draykon, Vangelus. Reload being a Powermaster was an unexpected surprise. I like Tartan too, I can almost hear him with a Scottish accent or whatever the Cybertronian equivalent is. You and Alphie are really converting me to loving original character fanfics. I'm eagerly awaiting the next chapter.
     
  16. alphie

    alphie Veteran

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    Finally got a chance to read this. Great work so far! Can't wait to read the next installment. :) 
     
  17. Vangelus

    Vangelus Long Live the New Flesh Moderator Content Contributor

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    Working on the next bit, apologies again for my incredible pace. :D  Currently more focused on writings for my City of Heroes/Villains characters, but I've got lots in mind for Passion (like, 40% of it at least).

    Thanks again for all the comments thus far. :)  I actually hadn't planned any specific voice for Tartan, so it's kinda cool that an accent came up when you read him. *quietly steals the idea, coughcough*

    :eek:  Looks like my brief stream of gabbing about my own stuff at Botcon did something, hehe. This is a nice surprise, I wasn't expecting new readers. Thanks muchly! :D  I've been getting caught up on your own stuff when I can, myself.
     
  18. Vangelus

    Vangelus Long Live the New Flesh Moderator Content Contributor

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    "Wake up, foreigner. It's time to go to work."

    ----------

    "Is it supposed to make those noises?"

    Draykon peered at the Signal Scanner, which was emitting a cacophony of grinding and screeching whines.

    Tartan hammered at its attached datapad. "Only when it has to do as much as it's being put through right now. Usually it can fabricate a copy of an energy signature from our records, but this is...something new. It's having to make a copy from scratch-"

    *SCRRRAAATCH*

    "Whatever it takes," said Draykon. She glanced at Ledge and Zepp, who each stood some distance away. They held portable scanners, gaining more data for the tortured and sputtering device.

    "ETA on the completion of data gathering?" she asked.

    "Two more megacycles, and that's pushing it," replied Tartan. "Any more and this poor thing might meltdown."

    "I thought you were military, Draykon." Abrahms paced towards the two Cybertronians. "Can you not ask for more stable equipment?"

    Tartan glanced at his commander, who nodded towards the Signal Scanner. Then she turned to Abrahms, kneeling once again to speak with the tiny techno-organic.

    "This operation is barely even on the record, Abrahms. If I push for more support, it could get overruled completely."

    "Light years across the galaxy, there is only one constant. Beaurocracy." The elderly Powermaster chuckled. "We were just passing through, but if you need an extra hand I could convince Reload to-..." He frowned, glancing to either side.

    "What is it?" asked Draykon.

    "Do you...feel something?" Abrahms leaned his head closer to the ground, pressing a palm against the pale metal surface. "Rumbling."

    Draykon stood, turning towards Tartan to address him. However, he spoke first.

    "This is strange...the Scanner is picking up seismic activity. I thought I'd set all its resources to focus on local energy readings." He opened a panel on his forearm and tapped at a few switches. "It wouldn't hold onto any unrelated notifications unless they-"

    His eyes widened. "Commander, it's right below-- Move!!"

    With a shriek of tearing metal, an enormous drill bored up through the ground beneath the Signal Scanner. The device was torn apart, its debris joining that of the newly-uprooted floor. Abrahms flew back as a chunk of ground alloy struck him in the head, and he lay unmoving several feet away.

    Tartan threw himself forward, colliding with Draykon and carrying the two of them out of the drill's path of destruction. In the distance, Reload whirled around at the noise and sprinted towards the scene. Ledge and Zepp too ran towards their comrades.

    "Scan that chassis," ordered Draykon as she got to her feet. "There are all of 17 gimlet-equipped Cybertronians on record, and -none- of them are this big."

    "You're right, and this fellow's not on -any- public records." Tartan hurriedly tapped at a datapad. "Checking military...Oh, hell."

    Frowning slightly at the foreign colloquialism, Draykon spoke again. "Details."

    "Do you remember the favour we granted to that offworld government, before it dissolved? The Guardian Peacekeepers?"

    "Yes. The infected criminal that broke through our borders."

    The massive drill-tank began to shift with a distinct hydraulic tone, its box-like form transforming into a humanoid shape. The titanic gimlet raised, revealing a manically twisted face beneath.

    "It's him," continued Tartan. "It's Screw Head!"

    Energy crackled over Screw Head's fists as several GD Rehabilitation inmates clambered up out of the hole he left in the planet's surface. His booming voice was distorted with a twisted feedback.

    "Screw Head says..." He slammed his fists together, sizzling sparks flying out from the impact. "This Renegade wants some revenge!"

    ----------

    Commercial Break
     
  19. Nerroth

    Nerroth Alea iacta est.

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    So I'm not the only one thinking of tying in the Guardians and Renegades to a TF mythos, I see!


    Gary
     
  20. Vangelus

    Vangelus Long Live the New Flesh Moderator Content Contributor

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    Hehe! Yeah, I had a fanfic idea way back for a GoBots epilogue that never gelled beyond "Leader-1 is an insane dictator and VIOLENCE VIOLENCE" (I'll write it someday...), and I needed a drilltank without tapping existing TF characters...and while walking through a snowstorm last week got the idea to throw Screw Head in.

    I just really, really love his name.

    In the case of my continuity, the connection's probably not as direct or fleshed out as yours though. :D 
     

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