The Transformers (G1 re-telling)

Discussion in 'Transformers Fan Fiction' started by Kickback, Aug 5, 2009.

  1. Kickback

    Kickback Proud father Administrator Super Mod News Staff

    Jun 25, 2002
    News Credits:
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    Denver, CO
    Got bored. Started writing. Figure it out.


    The weight of the carefully brandished metal hung slightly in his hands, the tip kissing the ground he stood upon. The sides were sharpened to a point – a single swipe would remove even the densest armored plating. His eyes closed, his lips slightly parted, his every thought focused on the movement all around him.

    Like a flash of lightening he struck, the point of his blade traveling through the air like a blade of grass in a cool summer breeze. The first challenger was cut down, the blade severing his head from his neck, blood splattering across the ground like a gentle rainstorm. The challenger’s body fell to the ground, lifeless and empty, as his head rolled to a stop a few meters away.

    He took a single finger and ran it down the side of the blade, wiping off his opponent’s leftovers as if he were cleaning a table with a washcloth. His eyes were open now and fixated on his next opponent who was situated a hundred yards away, a casual modified blaster as his weapon. He took aim and pulled the trigger, sending condensed energy pulses that crossed the distance in fractions of a second.

    Once more he let his blade dance around him, deflecting each energy pulse away as if he were swatting flies. Like a subtle dance he crossed the landscape, not once missing a beat. Finally he stopped moving, raised his head and looked deep in to the soul of his attacker. If one could visualize the fear of death and what it must look like, the gun-wielding challenger’s eyes were a clear visage of such a thing. With a single thrust his life was taken, the blade jabbed directly through his midsection severing all vital lines to his body. A simple lift of the foot and a kick sent the lifeless body to the ground as blood covered his blade.

    He stood tall, looking all around him and seeing his pursuers flee to safety. Once again the enemy had learned that death comes to everyone, but never at a time of their choosing. As he found himself standing alone, blade in hand, he broke the silence.

    “It would appear that even the peace of solitude comes at a price,” he quietly muttered, once again cleaning his blade with his finger. He looked down at the blade and at his reflection. His eyes were tired, his face becoming aged from these continued random acts of violence. “At what point did this great society resort to such barbarianism?”

    “My Lord!” bellowed a voice from behind. The warrior reacted on impulse, swinging the blade first as he spun to the sound of the voice, the tip of his weapon stopping at the throat of the unannounced visitor.

    He sighed.

    “Pterus,” he said after a moment, his esteemed advisor with his hands in the air and his eyes fixated on the blade. “Must you beckon for me in such a manner directly after a confrontation with the renegades?”

    Pterus took a step back and lowered his arms, taking a moment to breathe a deep sigh. He then looked at his Lord, gave a slight bow, and proceeded with his message.

    “Lord Grimator,” Pterus began, “I apologize for the intrusion but an urgent message has come across from the High Council.”

    Lord Grimator lifted his blade and attached it to the holster on his back. He knelt, letting his hand touch the ground beneath him.

    “Continue,” Grimator said after a moment.

    “The High Council of Cybertron, the resting Elders of Iacon, have requested your presence at the next session to address the growing concern of the continued number of insurgent violence,” Pterus explained. “They believe your presence will convince the other governors to agree to a resolution on the matter rather than letting it go unchecked.”

    Lord Grimator sighed.

    “For as long as I have been online, I remember peace,” he began to explain to Pterus. Lord Grimator turned and looked up to the stars. “The rebellion against the Quintessons, the Controllers as they were often referred to as, united Cybertron and all the inhabitants. We were not military mechanoids or civilian androids … we were a single race fighting for our freedom from an oppressive race that believed themselves superior.”

    Lord Grimator lowered himself to one knee, placing his right palm on to the ground.

    “And we formed a unified governing body to oversee the direction of our race as various Lords were selected to govern sections of Cybertron. It was then that I, a military mechanoid, was given control of the land that we rest our feet upon today. It was such a welcome change … from fighting and killing in fear of being killed ourselves to enjoying the slight subtleties of life … it was an intoxicating change. Not even the richest of energon can compare to the feeling of being free and making your own choices after a lifetime of slavery.”

    Lord Grimator rose to his feet and placed his hands on the shoulders of Pterus.

    “And now, as individuals rise and gain power, it has given fruition to corruption. We are supposed to believe that these attacks upon our land are random, that they are from Cybertronians less civilized as we are, and that they simply wish to share in the wealth that we have earned for ourselves. However, I fear there is something more sinister afoot. These attacks … they become more coordinated each time. It is as if they are being planned.”

    Lord Grimator walked past Pterus and looked back at his city, the city of Kaon, a glistening jewel of the landscape around them.

    “Cybertron is once again on the verge of war, Pterus. But this time … this time we are not fighting for our freedom, or fighting for a particular right. No Pterus … this time we will be fighting ourselves, and no matter which side wins, Cybertron will lose.”


    A silver bullet-like vehicle shot across the barren Cybertronian landscape, cutting corners so sharp that the side of the vehicle scraped across the metallic surface of the planet, leaving a trail of sparks in its wake. This was no ordinary vehicle – this was the young upstart known as Streak, a civilian belonging to the highest order in the city-state of Canox. The city of Canox was an economic stronghold, rich with in civilian Cybertronians who had taken to training their logic and reasoning skills more than developing weaponry in case the Quintessons returned to Cybertron. Streak was one of the youngest members of this elite group, his spark recognized as being sage-like in its potential, and was taken in.

    This rare and incredible feat meant little to Streak, as with most lifeforms young in age, his priorities did not match that of his fellow Canoxians.

    “Come on Fusion!” Streak shouted on his communications link to another individual. “If you ever want to be the fastest Cybertronian on wheels you have to do better than that!”

    A blue hovercraft vehicle zipped around a few of the smaller buildings and quickly shot up in to the air, its body twisting and reshaping itself to a robotic form. The hovercraft’s name was Fusion, and more than a Cybertronian, he was part of the group that had come to call themselves Transformers, allowing their bodies to scan an alternate mode than their main one, allowing them to travel faster or be of more use than in their regular forms.

    “You’re fast, I’ll give you that much Streak,” said Fusion with a smile. Suddenly Streak also transformed in to a silver robot, grinning from cheek to cheek. “And if you ever take that skill and use it with all that knowledge mumbo-jumbo that they’re trying to shove in that thick processor of yours, you might actually become a somebody!” laughed Fusion.

    Streak punched Fusion in the arm.

    “All those lectures and data-streaming … it really drains you,” Streak said, pretending to wipe lubicrant off his brow. “We have the rest of our lives to make something of ourselves in the processor side … but we only have until the siren sounds to enjoy ourselves outside the city!”

    “Stupid renegades,” Fusion snapped. He placed his hands on his waist and looked back towards the city of Canox. “I can’t believe the city is so freaked out about a couple of assaults that they’d actually put up a city-wide shield during stasis recharges.”

    As if Fusion’s proclamation of disbelief was a prophecy, a streak of light shot across the sky above them. Both of the young ‘bots looked up as the streak shot down upon the city of Canox, causing a larger flash of light and an explosion that rocked the entire landscape, sending both ‘bots to their knees as the aftershock from the explosion rocked their equilibrium. As the smoke cleared their disbelief was meet with horror – one of the larger buildings of the city, the building that housed part of the shield generator, had just been destroyed.

    “What the slag!?” shouted Streak, rising to his feet and taking a few steps back towards the city. “You have to be slagging kidding me!”

    “Streak,” Fusion said, fear echoing in his vocalizer. “What…what do we do?” he asked, looking to his best friend for the wisdom he was supposed to have as well as seeking some sort of comfort.

    “The city doesn’t have anything of major value in terms of weapons or energy,” Streak concluded, speaking out loud and to himself. He put his head down and thought. “Come on Streak, come on! Think! What in the name of Primus could they want in the city? What does Canox have that could entice a bunch of barbarians to attack a city full of scholars?”

    A number of triangular shaped jets shot by from the cliffs around them at an alarming speed, all firing laser blasts at various buildings in the city. Fusion couldn’t help but duck as they continued to soar overhead, laying siege upon his home.

    “Fusion!” Streak shouted to his friend, rushing over and placing a hand on his shoulder. “I think I know! It’s said that the elders that reside in Canox have the ‘Wisdom of the Ages’ … that’s the only thing that I can think that these renegades would want or would have any value to them, or worse, to the rest of Cybertron!”

    “And what do you suggest the two of us do?” Fusion asked, pointing at the city which was now ablaze. “Go in there, find this ‘Wisdom of the Ages’, and do what? Make a valiant stand? Two unarmed, untrained civilian ‘bots against a renegade army hell-bent on destroying anyone and anything that stands in their way!?”

    “I’m the fastest ‘bot I know,” Streak said with a smile. “We get in, we grab the artifact, and we get out. Take it to Iacon, take it to the Imperial Guardsmen! The renegades aren’t dumb enough to wage a war on the capital city of Cybertron!”

    Fusion gave Streak a blank stare.

    “What?” Streak said with his trademark smile. “Who knows, maybe we’ll end up saving the world someday?”


    He sat amongst the crowd that had gathered in to the stadium, intent on observing the brutality that was soon to follow the crowd’s cheers for death and destruction. He had been sent here on a mission – to bring him before his master to determine his fate, to see if he was the one that the prophecy had declared would rise up from the ashes of the fallen to lead them to the promised-land. But he knew the real reason he was sent here – to bring back muscle to further the cause of his Master.

    Soundwave sat motionless as more and more spectators gathered around him. He was in the Forbidden City as it was popularly referred to as, but formally it was called Polyhex, the dark scar on Cybertron. The rumors said that the renegades had started their uprisings here, away from the watchful eye of the Cybertron Imperial Guard and the pet governors of the corrupt elders. Under the surface of Polyhex was a grand stadium – a coliseum even – which housed illegal gladiatorial combats. They were originally created to amuse the Controllers, or Quintessons as they were referred to as now, but the rush of the sport kept it alive even amidst the laws banning it.

    “Hey!” shouted a spectator as he tried to squeeze past Soundwave. “You muzzled piece of slag! Either move when someone tries to get by or I’ll throw you in the pits!”

    Soundwave didn’t respond to the ‘bots’ rude gesture. Soundwave hardly spoke at all in fact. He was too busy listening. His audio receptors were specially tuned to pick up even the faintest of sound. He could actually hear the pulse of each individual Cybertronian spark in the stadium. Soundwave relished in the rumors that had spread about him – whether or not he could predict the future because of the waves of sound he could pick up on, or if he really had the ability to emanate a burst of sound so powerful that it could cause a mechanoid to instantly reboot. The more they didn’t know about him the better Soundwave liked it – it allowed for him to maintain the upper-hand in every situation he found himself in.

    “Place your bets!” shouted a yellowish-orange colored Cybertronian. He walked up to Soundwave and bent over to get up nice and close. “Hey there tall dark and … well, tall,” he said with a charming smile. “Place your bets for the next match? It’s not what I’d call a pay-per-view type of match, but it’s still going to be a whopper! Got this relative unknown silver ‘bot that has a lot of muscle on him, some say a mega-ton of muscle! The locals call him Megatron, kind of a play on words, do-ya-get-it? Hah!” he chuckled to himself.

    Soundwave didn’t respond.

    “Anyways, he’s going up against some nobody, didn’t bother to check his name, but he’s apparently pretty quick on his feet,” the ‘bot continued. “So whaddya say? Wanna throw down some energon? If you win you get a cut – well not my cut because I’m the broker and I’m the one makin’ the deals and all that – but still a cut none the less!”

    “Swindle!” shouted one of the guardsmen in the stadium. The guard rushed down the steps and pointed the tip of his electro-lance towards the ‘bot apparently called Swindle. “I’m tired of finding you in here! You ripped off the boss and I got orders to take you to him … in pieces if necessary!”

    Swindle took a step back and looked at Soundwave.

    “Name is Swindle,” he said with his charming smile. “Didn’t catch yours, but that’s probably a good thing. Look me up sometime if you ever want to make a deal…” and with that, Swindle leapt over the next couple of rows and darted out the exit, a number of guards on his tail.

    Soundwave remained motionless, as if he didn’t even notice anything had happened. He was silent because he was in deep thought, listening to the pulse of each spark around him. Swindle was a liar, plain and simple, but a liar that could be easily manipulated to serve a cause or a purpose. Soundwave stored the information about Swindle in his memory banks and went back to focusing on the sparks around him.

    Most were weak sparks, ones that would easily be crushed by even the youngest of the renegade army that his Master was creating. Some had potential and even more were already part of the renegade army, but had gone to the stadium in disguise so that they wouldn’t be recognized by anyone. Soundwave cared not if they disobeyed the orders of his Master – they would be dealt with accordingly in time. There were even a couple of sparks that Soundwave immediately recognized as belonging to Imperial Guardsmen from the city of Iacon in the crowd … a sign of the corrupt government that was being forced down their throats? Perhaps.

    The crowd began to cheer as the gates at both ends of the arena opened up and the two gladiators entered the pit. One was a hulking large robot, silver in color with a look of pure hatred and rage in his optics. Soundwave focused his unique skills on detecting the spark of this individual and found himself in awe of the sheer power and determination that he felt. This gladiator was incredibly powerful and knew how to disperse his energy in ways that allowed him to sustain stamina while executing incredible maneuvers. Soundwave was impressed.

    The other gladiator entered the arena. He was green and yellow in color with a seemingly misplaced red battle helmet covering his head. Soundwave focused on his spark and determined that he was also just as powerful but lacked the same focus as the silver gladiator. This warrior was strong but his spark was inexperienced and seemed easy to anger, something that would prove to be a weakness in a battle with a skilled opponent.

    For once, Soundwave found himself anticipating the battle that was about to take place.

    “Rip him to pieces Megatron!” shouted one spectator to the silver gladiator.

    “Take his head!” shouted another.

    The silver gladiator known as Megatron smiled at the cheers and turned his gaze upon his opponent. He clenched his fists and readied for the officials to ring the bell which would announce the start of the fight. His optics focused and locked in on his victim – and that’s how Megatron saw him, a victim, someone that he would rip, mangle, and twist in to submission – and prepared to unleash a savage beating unlike any before. He was a gladiator, a warrior forged in the sport of combat, and he would take no prisoners.

    The bell rang.

    Megatron leapt straight in to the air and, fist clenched, smashing it down upon where his opponent had been standing a moment early, burying his fist a good number of feet in to the ground. The green warrior had jumped out of the way and to Megatron’s left. The silver gladiator turned his gaze to where his opponent now stood and tore his fist out of the ground towards him, sending debris flying in his direction.

    “I will be the death of you,” Megatron said calmly with a smile as the green warrior dodged the debris and readied himself once more. Megatron tossed a large chunk of debris in to the sky. The green warrior watched as it sailed over his head, looked down back at Megatron only to see a fist smash in to his face, knocking his optics offline and sending him flying in to the side of the arena, his armor plating crumpling like a tin can from the force of the blow.

    The crowd roared with bloodlust.

    The green warrior’s optics flickered back online as he saw the silhouette of Megatron appear through the dust and smoke from his crash in to the side of the arena. Falling back on his most basic of training, two blades shot out from his arms and he leapt out from the hole and, with a flurry that was not expected, sliced at Megatron’s chest and arms with his blades as he rolled over the top of the silver gladiator. He landed behind him as he quickly jumped and reverse-kicked the overpowering gladiator, sending him stumbling forward.

    “You’re a dumb brute,” mocked the smaller warrior, waiting for Megatron to turn around. “You have amazing power yet lack the skill to focus it. You’re slow, uneducated in the ways of combat, and--”

    The warrior was cut off, unable to speak as Megatron’s hand had shot out and grabbed his neck, clasping his fingers around the smaller warrior and began to squeeze. Megatron smiled.

    “I would expect more agility for such a braggart,” Megatron said, squeezing the green warrior’s neck. “I can feel your pumps trying to send energon to your core processor in hopes of giving you the ability to move your arms … I can see the fear in your optic sensors … I can feel your life in my hands … can you?”

    In a move so fast some could barely see it, the green warrior shoved one of his arm blades straight in to Megatron’s face, causing the larger warrior to stumble yet still maintain his grip on the green warrior’s neck. Megatron turned his head away and snapped the blade off the smaller gladiator’s arm. He turned back to face his opponent and smiled once more, the blade stuck in the left side of his face as oil and lubricant dripped from the wound.

    “Is that it?” Megatron began to laugh, tightening his grip as the green warrior used both hands to try and free himself from Megatron’s grip. “Congratulations warrior … you are the first to ever inflict a wound that caused me to bleed…”

    Megatron slammed the warrior in to the side of the arena, his right hand gripping the neck of his opponent as his left hand slammed in to the right arm of the green warrior. Megatron grabbed at the arm and ripped it straight off, tossing it aside like he was picking away spare parts. He did the same with the warrior’s left arm, then using his right knee, smashed in both knee-joints of the green warrior. He would have screamed in pain if his vocalize hadn’t been crushed by the might hand of Megatron.

    “I am not without honor … and thus, I will spare your life simply for the fact that you did not cower or beg for mercy like those before you,” Megatron explained, releasing his grip as the badly damaged gladiator fell flaccid to the ground. “It is my hope that someday we will meet again … so I can repay you for the blade in my eye,” he said as he walked away from the helpless and near-death warrior. The crowd began to boo, wanting Megatron to finish off his opponent.

    Soundwave was impressed. This silver gladiator known as Megatron was able to sustain serious damage to his cerebral components, never lost focus of the fight at hand, and then showed compassion even in the midst of rage. The qualities that he showcased proved to Soundwave, beyond a doubt, that this warrior was the one that his Master had sent for him to find.

    The crowd’s jeers became louder, to the point Megatron could ignore them no longer. He turned and raised his hands to the crowd.

    “An unworthy opponent has fallen at my hand once again,” he explained to the crowd as it quieted to hear him speak. “And unlike those before him, he still fought even when he knew his life was about to come to an end. He did not cower, he did not beg, he did not plead … he fought. Sometimes the greatest victory is knowing your enemy will live on, the shame of their defeat echoing in their mind for all of eternity!”

    The crowd was dispersing, so Megatron returned to the quarters granted to him in the arena. He would need to be worked on to repair the damage to his optic sensors, though he knew it would be the most mundane, unethical treatment one could receive, if he received anything at all. He was not so much an entertainer as he was a prisoner, forced to give a good show to all the paying attendants so that they would return to see him fight and destroy again. Deep inside his spark, Megatron somehow knew that his craving for destruction was more than something in a gladiator arena, he was meant to take his power outside and to use it to greater his own cause.

    Megatron quickly spun around once he realized he was no longer alone. Standing in front of him was a dark blue robot with a shoulder attachment resting on his shoulder. Megatron didn’t sense a threat from him as he was too frail to pose a real threat, so he did not follow his normal instincts and smash him in to the nearest wall. But before he could speak he could hear his visitor … in his mind.

    “What…!?” Megatron struggled to say, his optic sensors beginning to flicker. Soundwave just stared at him as Megatron slowly went offline and in to stasis-lock, unable to move or think. Soundwave ceased his sound wave manipulation abilities, having cut off just enough of Megatron’s spark to trick his body in to going in to stasis.

    Soundwave opened his communication link.

    “Have you obtained our special cargo?” asked the cold, calculating voice on the other end.

    “Affirmative,” Soundwave replied coldly in a monotone voice. “Subject is subdued and ready for transport.”

    “Excellent,” replied the voice. “You will find proper transportation at the following coordinates. Once we reprogram him and outfit him in the latest technology, he will be the centerpiece of my army, and our goal to usher in a new age to Cybertron will be a mere hair’s touch away. With the Elders forced to abdicate their power, I shall take control and steer Cybertron in the direction it was always meant to be. It is simply the most … logical … solution.”
  2. Coolhand

    Coolhand Spiff's Stunt Double

    Feb 7, 2008
    Trophy Points:
    Cool. Really enjoyed reading that. :thumbs2: 

    You captured the violence of the gladiator fight very well, and showcased Megatron as a brutal character who relished the violence, yet still retained a streak of honor. Also enjoyed your portrayal of Soundwave, especially the parts where we saw the world through his eyes, the way he can detect things most other bots would miss. His trick at the end to incapacitate Megs was a nice touch as well, and overall I think he was the character who stood out the most, I found him downright creepy and sinister!

    More please.:popcorn 
  3. Shockwaved

    Shockwaved Well-Known Member

    May 25, 2009
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    Awesome writing dude.
    This could be the beginning to an offical Transformers novel.

    Looking forward to the next part.

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