Transformers: Asterisk - Destiny

Discussion in 'Transformers Fan Fiction' started by Falcadore, Nov 9, 2005.

  1. Falcadore

    Falcadore Touring Car Autobot

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    Transformers: Asterisk
    Destiny


    Prologue

    "All agents and units, Control; projected minimum staff levels achieved. There will be some staff inside facility so be wary of what you allow them to see, otherwise rules of engagement as briefed. Units One through Three procede as planned."

    "Control, Unit One, security has not deviated from schedule."

    "Acknowledged Unit One. We are green at this time. Observe mission radio procedures from here. Godspeed."




    Verdana Chemicals P/L
    Indianapolis, Indiana
    Present Day

    Daniel McLean loved working security. Ever since he was a kid he had loved the night hours. His parents used to despair trying to put him down when he was small. As a teeneager he stayed out all hours, and he loved nothing better than driving to the local lookout point, even when he didn't have female company. Now in his late twenties, he didn't care so much that he did not earn enough to save for a future, he was happy enough just to walk the perimeter during the night hours.

    This year he had been working at a chemical plant, nothing particularly important, but some specific chemicals were made here that the military liked, so round the clock security was employed. McLean always applied for the nightshifts. Some thought he wanted the extra money, but he just prefered the working conditions.

    "McLean you there?"

    "Sure Hester, what can I do for you?"

    "Three vehicles just pulling up at the gates. Can you join Finn, Franti and Seymour and check them out?"

    "No probs Hester, be right on it." McLean started jogging towards the front of the plant. He liked to keep fit as well, not muscle-bulging fit, but nice fit. As he jogged underneath the pipework tunnel near the front of the plant where several iron pipes climbed up high overhead, creating an archway to allow the larger delivery trucks access to the site. Up ahead he could see what he though was a grey Scion van. There were some dancing red strobes, suggestion the presence of an emergency vehicle of some kind out of sight behind the Scion. He could see two of his three colleagues milling about around the Scion.

    An exceedingly bright soundless light lit off and the one security officer visible, Franti, McLean decided collapsed. McLean grabbed his radio but found it awash with static. The Scion raced suddenly into through the open gates, a white and black Subaru Impreza following, with the overhead lightbar. McLean's right hand raced for his revolver that he had never previously fired other than on the range. The Scion seemed a lighter shade suddenly, picking up the highlights of a third yellow vehicle beyond the Subaru before the light went white and stabbed outwards.

    When McLean awoke it was with not one but two splitting headaches and the Sun had risen into the mid morning sky. There was a splitting pain in the back of his head, presumably from where his head had slammed the bitumen driveway, and there was a painful ache behind his eyes. Stars wheeled around his vision and the world looked blanched and lacking in colour.

    "McLean's awake." There were rushing footsteps.

    "McLean?" This was the voice of Nick Hester, McLean's watch supervisor. "Easy son, you've had a bit of a tumble." McLean blinked against the light as he struggled to shift his head around, and realised he was tucked aboard a stretcher.

    "Dan McLean? Special Agent Hutchence, FBI. We need to know what you saw last night." For the moment McLean ignored the 'suit'.

    "Franti and Finn and..."

    "They'll be fine." Hester looked warily towards the G-Man. "Just answer the Special Agent's questions."

    "Mr. McLean?"

    "There was a gray Scion, that's where the light came from, and a Subaru WRX with a light bar."

    "A police light bar?"

    "No, more like a fire car, all red. There was a third car. It was yellow and might have been low slung, but I can't tell you more than that."

    "Anything else?" The Agent's voice was as blank as his outfit, he could have been interrogating a toaster. McLean however believed in his job and scoured his thought for any impressions and half remembered images.

    "Just an impression but I thought I saw a young hot chick in swimsuit..."
     
  2. Rotorstorm

    Rotorstorm OriginalRotorstorm Fanboy

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    can't wait for this to get going :thumb  don't know whats with autobots under human control though
     
  3. Laser_Optimus

    Laser_Optimus Your opinion was noted. Now get lost. TFW2005 Supporter

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    Interesting start Falcadore. I'll be keeping up with this one too. Glad to see it didn't take you too long to start the sequel to isolation. :thumbs2: 
     
  4. Falcadore

    Falcadore Touring Car Autobot

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    Chapter One - Insertion

    "Agent One, Control; report progress."

    "Control, cognition hood is performing optimally. Unit One made successful rendezvous and penetration and is prepared for autonomous control."

    "Acknowledged Agent One. All personnel, after this action we can no longer turn back, we commit to descent, we commit completely to the plan. Any final objections?"

    "Very well, Agent One commit to descent. Prepare Unit One for communications blackout. Alert submersed salvage team against uncontrolled impact. Godspeed."




    North American Aerospace Defence Command Headquarters
    Cheyenne Mountain
    Nevada
    Six Months Earlier

    "Colonel!" a voice crackled over the desk mounted speaker. Colonel Edmund Roth looked at the speaker with more than a vague hint of disgust. That speaker had come to symbolise his recent career downturn, and he learned to hate it with a passion. He pressed a button on the speaker, activating the return loop of the intercomm.

    "Yes Sergeant?"

    "Contact Colonel on a re-entry path."

    "Ballistic?"

    "No sir, appears to be orbital return."

    "And it is not the Discovery?"

    "NASA confirms Shuttle Discovery has not yet entered de-orbital flight path."

    "All right, I'll issue an advisory bulletin, then join you."

    "Very good sir." Roth released the speaker button and picked up a telephone handset, pushing a single red button on the hot key pad to the right of the handset.

    "Air Force Space Command."

    "This is Colonel Roth at NORAD get me General Samuels please."

    "One moment." There was a clicking of handests and connections. One good thing about working in the military, there was no such thing as on hold music.

    "Samuels."

    "Sir, this is Colonel Roth at NORAD, we have an object on de-orbital flight path. NASA have confirmed it is not Shuttle Discovery."

    "Is it a missile?"

    "Highly unlikely sir. No launches were detected and the descent path is not ballistic."

    "Change that unlikely to one hundred percent negative Colonel. Report any further information." Samuels signed off without even allowing time for an acknolwedgment.

    "Yes sir. Good to see sir you have your finger right on the pulse sir." Fortunately for Roth's career prospects, the handset remained dead. Roth sighed and swung his plaster enshrouded left leg around from behind his desk, struggling awkwardly to his feet using a pair of crutches. Already borderline for age and for fitness for flight status, Roth had been forced to eject from his F-16 Fighting Falcon aggressor training fighter after being badly caught in the wash of another fighter during dogfighting training and he had simply run out of sky to save the jet. broken limbs were a routine outcome from ejections and parachute landings.

    While the pilot healed he was sent to NORAD. Chances were better than average that he would not be returned to flight status. He hobbled out the door and down into the crew pits the stretched below before the massive missile tracking screens overhead.

    "Here sir." The Air Force Staff Sergeant indicated at his VDU when Roth arrived. One orbital track appeared, indicating the unknown objects blazing path it was cutting across the sky as it fell at thousands of miles an hour.

    "Of concern sir, is firstly the objects size, and secondly its path is not decaying, but maintaining a steep, but otherwise controlled orbital descent. The size is massive, I don't understand why we did not pick it up while it approached. It's the size of a missile cruiser."

    "Controlled?"

    "Yes sir. Definately Sir." Roth picked up the handset mounted beside the Sergeant. He had read the protocals about this sort of procedure out of curiosity. He should defer the decision to one of the NORAD regular officers, but Roth disliked indecision. He pressed a green button beside the handset, looked once into the Sergeants eyes then announced clearly;

    "Fallen Angel, Fallen Angel."

    Having broken the proverbial safety glass, Roth had a list of phonecalls to make now. Space Command, Pentagon Watch Centre, NASA, and 'the Joes' were the numbers he had recognised. The last number on the list had been added in ink pen by hand, although the section commanders initals stood next to it. The number was, oddly for such a high security facility, an external number, and had a Nevada prefix, and he assumed the number belonged to one of the super secret facilities at Groom Lake. He paid no further attention until the number came up and a bored voice had responded with a two word response, before hanging up.

    "OK, whatever."



    Autobot Barracks
    Binaltech Facility, Nevada
    One Week Later

    "I don't mean be troublesome, but we aren't as capable as we were in the good old days ya dig mon cherie?" Jazz effected a cheerful tone with his reply. It just seemed to antagonise the figure at the other end of the conference vid-screen. That figure shook her close cropped afro curled head. General Barbera had taken Command of the Joe's some years before, after Hawk's 'official' retirement.

    "Nevertheless we'd feel more comfortable at the scene with some of our 'off-world' allies present." Barbera was the first woman to command the Joe's and it seemed like every day she had to prove herself to someone. So to everyone she dealt with she came across as hard as any military officer could be. Mostly it got the respect she was after. Mostly. Dealing with the Autobots was something Jazz knew she did not enjoy. Jazz tried to treat as few people as possible with respect if he took calls in the communications/conference hall. And Jazz knew he was the preferred of the two options. Standing behind Jazz while the Mazda lounged in the Autobot sized seat in front of the screen stood the one person on the planet who would never be intimidated, or even impressed by what a human could do.

    The dull silver figure stood looking down at the monitor from behind crossed arms, an impassive dull gold mask, and masked visored eyes, his weapons holsterred prominently at each hip, the very image of indomitable might.

    "Autobots good, but not walk water lately. How Me Grimlock cross great puddle to care less mystery fallen rock?" Barbera looked like she could not decide which of the two aliens exasperated her more.

    "You'll proceed to the US Naval base at Sasusalito where the Navy will take care of your transportation out to the site of the crash. From there you'll help investigate the spaceship. Or meteorite."

    "Navy boats slow. Me Grimlock not want spend long time tucked in weakling car mode. How many 'bots you want?"

    "The Navy believes they can handle four of you once at sea."

    "Me Grimlock pick team Jazz can lead and drive to boat park."

    "Oh thanks Grimlock, a week spent tucked into my car mode, I'll have stiff joints for a month."

    "If it stop soldier-human bleating you spend two weeks as weakling car."

    "That's what I love about you Grimms-baby, so willing to care for your fellow bot and provide solace in their time of great need. You think you could find him a hobby to mellow him out some General? Or even a date?" Barbera actually shuddered and Jazz grinned like a madman back at the screen.

    "I'll expect your team by the end of the week then." Barbera attempted to effect an air of finality to the statement. Jazz had a line handy if Grimlock did not respond, but Jazz was able to keep it in reserve.

    "What human expect Me Grimlock can't help. Binaltech out." The screen winked out as Barbera started to bristle visibly.

    "Way to go Grimms," smiled Jazz. "Ya know that never, ever gets old."

    "Soldier-human holds Autobots to hostage 'cause we few. Help them out, we get fed. Seems fair deal, but Me Grimlock not like vulnerable."

    "I hears what yer sayin' bro'," mused Jazz. "Who needs a stretch?"

    "Take Dead End, he need work on being team mate. Smokescreen bent head for strange places."

    "He certainly thinks laterally when he has too. I like that."

    "Me Grimlock remember sideways think almost get us killed." If Grimlock intended the observation to be thought provoking then Jazz was having none of it, continuing to smile back at the former Dinobot, trying to be as exasperating to Grimlock as with Barbera. Grimlock needed meatier bait though. "Swerve need time away from poking rocks."

    "Done and done Grimmy my man, you just leave this in the careful hands of the Jazzmeister and all will be smoothe sailing."

    "Better be. Me Grimlock not like dealing with humans when Jazz go wrong."

    "You don't like humans at all ya big lug. And since when have I steered you badly?" Jazz knew Grimlock was looking at him sourly, but he didn't care. Despite the week in confinement, there was something to do. Yeah baby!
     
  5. Rotorstorm

    Rotorstorm OriginalRotorstorm Fanboy

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    nice begining
     
  6. Xaxis

    Xaxis Well-Known Member

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    Nice start! I wasn't expecting this for a while, glad to see it so soon! Thanks, Falcadore!
     
  7. Falcadore

    Falcadore Touring Car Autobot

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    Chapter Two - Immersion

    "Control, Agent One; objective is secure and Unit One has been secured from autonomous control."

    "Acknowledged Agent One. At zero hundred hours local start the objective towards the cage. Great work team. Prepare engineering and IT teams for salvage and conversion operations."




    Pacific Ocean
    Exact Location Classified
    One Week Later

    "Cheer up guys," said Jazz cheerfully. "At least we'll have room to walk around the top two decks of an aircraft carrier.” The four Autobots sat, still in vehicle modes, on the helicopter deck of the ageing nuclear powered Aegis Cruiser USS Princeton approaching the centre of the Fifth Fleet. The Cruiser had just been coming out of a difficult mid-life refit when the opportunity to accelerate the journey to the action arrived. The four cars were loaded into a rack in the helicopter hanger, vacant while the ship was in refit, its two Seahawk helicopters re-assigned to other vessels.

    The big cruiser was approaching the centre of operations of the Fleet, and as big as the guided missile cruiser was, it was dwarfed by the size of the USS Nimitz, one of two Nimitz Class aircraft carriers, the mightiest warships ever constructed, assigned to this Fifth Fleet battle group. Several other vessels of the Fifth Fleet were in sight, cruisers, frigates, destroyers, support vessels and out on the horizon was the USS Ronald Reagan, the newest addition to the US Navy, conducting the fleet's air operations while the Nimitz was distracted by other duties. Several Sea King helicopters hovered over the deck of the 'Flat Top', waiting for the Princeton to finish moving alongside in order to steam parallel to the carrier.

    "We have to go through the indignity of transport by helicopter, all crated up like freight." Smokescreen had not thought much about the travel arrangements.

    "After you spent a month at sea last year?" said Swerve sounding puzzled. The first Sea King circled in towards the fantail of the Princeton as he spoke. Jazz moved forward on the rising and plunging deck. Jazz would have hated to do this in rough seas and suspected it might not be possible.

    "I spent that in energon hibernation. Not in a bored waking sleep." Sailors raced across the deck, getting Jazz prepared for the four point sling to be placed within his wheelbase. "Maybe they should have just let us climb up a cable or something."

    "Smokey, we're too heavy to float. If we fall from these tin cans we'll go straight to the ocean floor, and likely be crushed by the pressure, but still alive. That's an eternity I can do without." The Sea King took the strain with the sling attached to its belly hook and lifted Jazz quickly from the deck of the cruiser and up into the air towards the Nimitz.

    With air operations cancelled for the afternoon, large portions of the aviators and deck crewman stood watching the Autobots arrived pointing at each one. Jazz remained in his Mazda RX8 mode and drove clear of the landing zone, moving forwards towards the super structure where the idle crewmembers had been standing, pointing and chatting with varying degrees of interest. The crew had not been informed of precisely what was going on, and rumours abounded. Several moved up for a close look at the driverless car. The arrival of Swerve caused a surge of interest. A Mazda was one thing, but a fire engine red Chevy Corvette was something else. Swerve drove over beside Jazz and parked. Each transfer took about forty minutes. Jazz was left on the deck to stew while the multi-colour coded crew milled around. Further forward towards the prow was a clutch of F-14 Tomcat air superiority fighters, reminding Jazz of the form Jetfire wore during the Terran Wars. A venerable RF-4 Phantom II reconnaissance fighter also sat on the deck, again reminding Jazz of a missing friend in Fireflight.

    "Awww will you guys stop touching me like that?" Swerve's nervous voice started those near by the cabin, but with all the background noise most did not hear. "HEY! PAWS OFF THE METAL!" One of the senior officers present chuckled at Swerve's exclamation and walked over to Jazz’ drivers side door as the Sea King returned. The arrival of a Subaru rally car in full sponsor regalia soon cleared attention from Swerve though.

    "You Jazz?"

    "Yeah bud, what of it?"

    "Captain Simon Phillips."

    "You in charge of this shambles?"

    "No, I'm the Air Wing Commander; the Admiral will be down once you're all aboard."

    "No need to bring him down - can he get to that balcony there above us?"

    "Yes. Why?"

    "I've been seated like this for a week, I really need to stand."

    "That will probably work."

    After two hours the black Dodge Viper was unloaded and the four robots assembled in front of the 'Island' and came into a vague semblance of a line. Jazz decided to lay on a bit of a show and display some form of military discipline. The sailors were cleared away from the four cars.

    "Autobots, transform." Jazz expected Dead End to be a little tardy, but it was Swerve who was slow and actually stumbled slightly, before snapping to attention at his full twenty plus foot height with the others. On the observation platform were two older figures in the ever present grey, but with more golden finery than the others stood out at head height to review them.

    "At ease." Smokescreen took it slightly too literally and took a few step backwards before stretching mightily. "Jazz, I'm Captain Lars Johansson, Commander of the USS Nimitz; this is Rear Admiral George Wanless, Commander of the Fifth Fleet. On the Admiral's behalf I'd like to welcome you aboard."

    "Pleasure to be aboard Captain, Admiral, may I present my team, Smokescreen, Swerve and Dead End." The pair nodded at each in turn; however Admiral Wanless lingered on Dead End. Sitting in the centre of Dead End's silver breast plate stood an unexpected purple geometric pattern.

    "You brought a Decepticon into the fleet?"

    "A Decepticon?" Surprise was evident in Johansson's voice, snapping back to follow Wanless' gaze at Dead End.

    "I'm not going to pretend to justify the actions of my former colleagues, but I have found their objectives clash with my own."

    "And what pray tell are your objectives son?" The Admiral's voice held a steel that brooked no argument.

    "Dead End is a part of our team," said Jazz, attempting diplomacy, "and has been for some time. We consider him to be one of us."

    "They why doesn't he look like one of you?" The haemoglobin red eyes and dark bronze face marked him apart, but Jazz hoped he was referring purely to the vivid violet Deceptibrand.

    "Have you ever tried to change a tattoo Admiral?" The astuteness of Dead End's observation surprised Jazz and appeared to mollify the naval officer. Captain Johansson had quickly leant inside the structure to speak to someone. After that Johansson seemed to take pains to stand between Wanless and Dead End.

    "Jazz, we've located the site of the object. It is protected by some kind of stealth screen which obscures the senses creating a dark or a black patch in the water." The Admiral paused as a small commotion occurred behind him. A detachment of Marines appeared on the bridge with several stepping onto the CAGs observation platform, two taking up the guarding position Captain Johansson had been occupying. Jazz glanced across at Dead End. If this song and dance routine made an impression on the former Stunticon, Jazz could not tell.



    They don't trust you, said the small voice, the moment the human identified you as a Decepticon, they surrounded their commander with men.

    Over the six months since the death of Wildrider, Menasor had evolved. Where once it had been a maddened ghost, sending him insane, now Menasor had become his own personal devils avatar. He had seen a something similar in human fiction, where the human had been tempted by a miniature version of himself in red, while another version in white appeared as the voice of reason. The dichotomy of human mind, 'why?' verses 'why not?'. Menasor had become the little figure in red. There was no corresponding Angel to speak words of reason however. Dead End had to do that himself.

    "I'm a fleet commander Jazz." The Admiral continued to brief the Cybertronians. "Normally they'd send a specialist, but since I had to know anyway, they're saving on the specialist."

    "No need to apologise sailor-boss man," Jazz was now noticeably relaxing as the human soldier opened up to the Special Operations Operative. However Wanless quiet and stared at Jazz, seeming to indicate Jazz had stepped too far over the bounds of familiarity. Jazz however just smiled back at the human.

    "We can't risk our submersibles in this hidden area of water. It was decided you would be much more flexible for the task at much lower risk to those concerned."

    "So we're disposable are we Admiral?"

    "Like it or not son, everyone in the military is." Jazz paused and looked thoughtful at that last remark.

    He'll pick you. He'll think of his own disposables. Solves all his Decepticon problems if you were to slip to crush depth, you'll see.

    "You got the world's silliest diving bell for us then Admiral?"

    "We've been able to rig up a winch mechanism which has been tested on our fire fighting dummy."

    "We dangle from the coat hanger and have a look inside the black?"

    "Uhhhh, Jazz I'm not sure..."

    "Not now Swerve. How soon can the winch be ready?"

    "A matter of hours."

    "Let's do it. I'm proud to be a part of this plan." Jazz had become more irrepressible as time had gone by. The release of pressure of command had had a cathartic effect on the Autobot, Dead End had noticed

    "Jazz!" Swerve was getting more insistent, moving close to Jazz side, trying to whisper at his team leader. Problem was an Autobot whisper was clearly audible to every human nearby.

    "Yes Swerve?"

    "Sea water."

    "So do I. Lots of it. Far as the optics can perceive. Literally." Jazz was being merciless today. He was in a very happy mood.

    Because he's going to do away with his Decepticon problem. The humans have got nothing to hand out here at sea to fight you. Push Jazz and Swerve into the fluid and shoot Smokescreen in the back, then take command of this boat and get the humans the lay waste to what you want.

    "Sea water has high concentrations of dissolved alkalines. They can attack our systems, remember they are made of simpler metals that the Terrans can utilise. Dead End's armour should stand up best out of us all."

    SEE!

    "How so?"

    "Based on Skids figures, armour integrity. Frame design. And something happened to Dead End in Guatemala. His armour plates are... different. I can sense it and want to analyse it but he won't let me. I can speculate it might have something to do with Wildrider having been a Gestalt partner with him, and those energies may have tempered his armour plating, but that's speculation."

    Swerve wants you dead too. Always so nice and friendly, he's just hiding behind a pleasant veneer before he sticks a blade in our spark chamber.

    "It's my spark chamber," said Dead End under his breath. "You're dead. Move on and take your paranoia with you." The nearest Marine started at Dead End's comments, quiet though they were, and eyed the Decepticon even more closely.

    "Well in any case Swerve, I've made my decision."

    Grab your sub-rifle, and blast Jazz now!

    "And I'm going."

    "You?" This was Smokescreen chipping in to the conversation.

    "Haven't you ever wanted to go scuba diving off a South Pacific Island on a gorgeous summer afternoon? A lotta humans fantasise about it."

    "This is the North Pacific, the nearest islands are the Aleutians, which are about 3,500 kilometres away, and this time of year are covered in and surrounded by ice. We can probably arrange an afternoon though."

    "Are you going to rain on my parade Subaru boy?"

    "Skies look clear to me," said Smokescreen without a trace of sarcasm.

    "Will you two treat me seriously for a moment?" asked Swerve plaintively.

    "If you're quite finished?" The gruff voice of Admiral Wanless brought the discussion to a halt.

    "Suit me up Admiral, I'm your bot." Jazz carefree attitude held no malice, just a keenness to explore the edge of his environment. And Menasor hated it all the more.



    "Are you receiving me Nimitz?" Jazz was forced to vocalise through his radio rather than transmit through the deep blue. A large rectangular shaped rig was attached to the large white cape style arrangement that hung from Jazz' shoulders and former his roofline and windscreens as a Mazda RX-8. Cabling wound several loops from the bottom of the rig around Jazz' abdomen and up around his arm pits and shoulders. The entire arrangement was attached to one of Nimitz anchor chains as the chain winched him downwards towards this dark zone. Somewhere off to Jazz right, he couldn't see where, visibility lessened as he descended, was the attack submarine USS Jefferson City, monitoring his descent with the most discriminating underwater detection systems ever floated. Not that Jazz thought much of the capability. There were no naturally formed liquid seas on Cybertron so a lot of the significance of the humans nautical traditions slipped by Jazz. Although, Jazz reflected, Seaspray and Broadside had been quite taken with them. Well Seaspray had. Broadside had had his own problems.

    Jazz had no idea where either the Minibot or the Triple Changer were.

    This strange zone, this field was almost directly below now.

    "You are approaching the zone now." This voice was a different voice and crackled through the water over short range phone. The underwater equivalent of the boys game where you strung two cans together held it tight and spoke through it. The voice had come from the Captain's interphone on the Jefferson City. Jazz did not reply to the voice. Chances were he couldn't reply to the Jefferson City anyway without knowing how to modulate his voice correctly underwater. Or opening his mouth, which he especially did not want to do.

    Jazz felt as much as saw the field as he passed through the outer edge, and suddenly all his senses failed. He was pitch black and aware of nothing other than the frame on his back.

    "Nimitz slow it down some, I'm inside." There was no response, but progress slowed anyway. The sensation of the rig on his back was the only thing keeping Jazz grounded in reality. This was what the humans called sensory deprivation and it was a particularly ugly tactic that less scrupulous used as an interrogation tool.

    It seemed like forever but Jazz did not hit anything, touch anything, and then the gloom lifted. Slightly. It was the stygian depths, but it was something detectable, and there was a background hiss coming from the Nimitz communications.

    "Jazz are you receiving?"

    "I am now. I'm on the other side. I didn't hit anything."

    "You went through the middle? Currents didn't take to the edge?" This was Wanless, taking over the speaker’s role from which ever Navy communications specialist had been one of Jazz two voices, along with the Captain of the Jefferson City, of reality for the last hour.

    "I have no explanations for you Admiral, other than whatever you thought was here is in fact not here. Haul me up."

    "We'll have to drag you back through the zone again." The communications specialist had returned to the line. Jazz felt a tug as upwards motion began.

    "Then my white suited warrior I can double check for you."

    "The return trip will be.... err..." the voice trailed off as nothingness returned. This time, Jazz spread his arms and legs wide and waved them about. Nothing ventured.

    There was a bump. Something gained.

    "Stop!" Jazz flailed about in the murk trying to find what it was he felt. After several minutes of waving there was second bump. After several more bumps Jazz was able to grab the something it was small, well Transformer small. And it felt familiar. It felt like Transformer tech.

    "Resume." There was a tug, and more tugs, but no other sensation. Jazz checked his internal clock. By now he should have emerged on the upper side, but now the zone appeared to be surfacing, until...

    There was a click as something shifted within the device. The zone disappeared and the lighter colours of a shallow depth sprang into being.

    "Jazz are you receiving?"

    "Loud and clear Nimitz."

    "The zone has disappeared," the scratchy voice from the Jefferson City informed.

    "Jefferson City says the zone has disappeared," irrelevantly added the Nimitz.

    "Yeah, I know why," said Jazz, his voice devoid of his returned characteristic good cheer and charm. "Admiral Wanless, you've been had. Whatever was here was picked up almost immediately and a distraction was left behind here for you to find. Can you tell Smokescreen to get the Binaltech facility on the horn? I have a few questions that need asking."
     
  8. KnightSaberAmi

    KnightSaberAmi Nyan Nyan

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    ooo mysterious....

    Hey Falcadore good to see you back with an update!
     
  9. Xaxis

    Xaxis Well-Known Member

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    Very interesting chapter. I can't wait to find out what this is all about! Thanks for posting, Falcadore!
     
  10. Rotorstorm

    Rotorstorm OriginalRotorstorm Fanboy

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    i'm presuming it's beachcomber, poor guy, if it's not it's possibly one of the other minibots
     
  11. Crimson87

    Crimson87 Senior Member

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    oops double post...
     
  12. Crimson87

    Crimson87 Senior Member

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    Just read through the new chapters. Oh dear... Here we go again! Excellent work by the way.
     
  13. My03Tundra

    My03Tundra LOVES TO EDIT POSTS!!

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    Falcadore, you've inspired me to write a similar story, but using a different group of characters. It is currently up at Allspark and I may post here soon, once I finish Chapter One. It is titled Transformers: Rediscovery.
     
  14. green_machine

    green_machine cezium salami!!!!

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    what happened to this story? where did it go?
     
  15. Falcadore

    Falcadore Touring Car Autobot

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    December is an extraordinarily busy month for me. Sorry all.

    Chapter 3 - Investigation

    "Control; Agent One. Redman identity successful. Exterior security penetrated and have broached the storage facility."

    "Acknowledged Agent One, Unit Seven proceed with the acquisition. Utilise Ligier protocols at all times from here. Unit One proceed with exfiltration plan."



    Autobot Barracks
    Binaltech Facility, Nevada
    One Week Later

    "We never paid much attention to the surge," said the technician. "A breakthrough with hologram technology had been considered only been a matter of time. It's been a while coming."

    "And it would have been a while longer, but whomever built this cheated," replied Wheeljack. His voice was as dispassionate as anyone had ever heard it. Wheeljack and two technical specialists from the 'Joes' had been inspecting large images sent from the Nimitz to the Binaltech complex. They also had several commercial holographic projectors of a particular brand dissected on the bench. Skids arrived in the room and walked over to Wheeljack's station, taking his time arranging himself at the bench so as to not injure any of the humans present. Silverstreak sat serenely by the doorway, paying attention, but otherwise sitting on the floor, knees sticking out to each side with the soles of his feet together in some approximate parody of a yoga position, holding his arms out with a wrist wresting on each knee.

    "Or has it? I want to see one of their commercial projectors," responded Skids. The development was not a happy one potentially, as it would mean Wheeljack and Skids would have to do something particularly unpleasant.

    "You have to admit the similarities..."

    "Yes Wheeljack I do."

    "Can we get Grimlock to join us? We have the beginnings of the puzzle. Corporal if you could set up the teleconference?"

    "Sir." A large screen immediately snapped to life. A picture snapped into focus instantly. A black line separated two halves of the picture. On the right the picture was dark, but some fluorescent lights started to flicker on in the background quickly lightening the room. The other side was battleship grey in the background, with Jazz turning to face the camera. At least one member of his team was also present, but was shadowed in the background and not immediately discernible.

    "Hey-ya Jackie boy, what's swinging?"

    "We're just waiting for a few people to join the call Jazz. How is the sea?"

    "You do not wanna know man. 'Dja hear Swerve is seasick now? Man that poor cat's got some issues. He spent a week on a cruiser and he's seasick now on the carrier?"

    "If I may suggest Jazz, get him to transform into his vehicular mode," Skids said in a thoughtful tone. "It could be he did not notice the ride on the cruiser because he was tucked into alternate mode."

    A human figure appeared in the second screen, familiar to all. The diminutive almost undernourished wheelchair bound figure magnified by the huge screen made Doctor Chip Chase appear almost haggard. Chase, elsewhere within the Nevada facility was in a clean room and could not easily come out to the Autobot barracks. It was easier to do it this way. Behind the bench where Wheeljack and Skids were set up was a large aircraft hangar. The Autobots were used to working from hangars. Few building could match their internal dimensions that were still plentiful to come by. Groom Lake had more than a few hangars.

    "OK, thank you Barry, I'm up now." Chase spoke to someone off camera.

    "Heya Chip!"

    "Jazz, it is good to hear your voice. How is everyone?"

    "Dead End's kinda quiet, but he's not like the great talker anyway right? Heh - you hear Swerve is seasick? Smokey's giving him three different kinds of grief over that."

    "Swerve just needs a touch of tough love," said Smokescreen's disembodied voice in the background.

    "Swerve needs his equilibrium back," said an even more distant voice, which if it was Swerve was not easily recognisable and sounded thoroughly miserable. "And I'm not even remotely interested in any love YOU have to offer. "When humans vomit what is it they actually regurgitate?"

    "You shouldn't tease Swerve," admonished Chase. "He's just earnest. And tell him he can't throw up. He should be very thankful for that. Wheeljack, what have you found?"

    "The device Jazz found is more than just based on Cybertronian technology, it's Cybertronian biology." Wheeljack's statement left a profound silence. On screen Jazz' bonhomie disappeared into a mask as unreadable as Grimlock's. Chase's facial features flickered through a couple of half attempted emotional responses, but settled again. The human broke the silence.

    "How?"

    "There has been plenty of opportunities over the years Wheels," said a subdued Jazz. "There have been plenty of battles on this world. Just think how many times you personally tore chunks off of Seekers. There have even been a few of us buried around this planet. I found Brawn..."

    "This wasn't from Brawn or from Starscream," said Wheeljack. "This was based on holographic technology."

    "Unicron's horn," whispered Smokescreen. The diversionist had moved up to Jazz' shoulder on the view from the Nimitz' cavernous aft hangar bay. "Hound."

    "Both of Hound's frames are interned here," said Chase. "How could anyone get in here?"

    "You're going to have to check the Vault," said Jazz, considerably subdued.

    "There is much bad energy there Wheeljack," cautioned Silverstreak. "The humans believe there is significant negative energy around the remains of the dead and they are better remembered in absence."

    "Someone is going to have to check and I'm the best qualified," said Wheeljack.

    "Since our reincarnation you have put yourself through much negative impulses and have several times gone against your instincts and your better judgement. You need to take better care of your natural aura than to involve myself with such negativity of those who have passed beyond."

    "Someone had to lead Silverstreak," shot back Wheeljack a little testily, putting additional emphasis on the 'silver' portion of his new name. "I don't recall you stepping forward."

    There was a crashing sound behind them and Silverstreak started to unfold from his seated position. Wheeljack waved at Silverstreak to stay and motioned at Skids to continue while he broke off from the conversation to turn to greet the new arrival. The two Ford Mustangs met in the middle of the hangar.

    "What story?" Grimlock's voice was pure matter of fact. There was an expectation in his voice that suggested the answers would be forthcoming. Wheeljack swallowed his flash of anger towards Silverstreak and attempted to ignore Grimlock's tone.

    "The device Jazz discovered... we think it was a modification or a copy of Hound's holographic projector."

    "How get stolen?"

    "We don't know, but I want to check the Vault."

    "Humans do anything for self interest. Likely humans took for exchange."

    "Grimlock, how much do you know about these Binaltech created frames we wear?" Wheeljack's voice had adopted a world weary air. He knew intimately how much Grimlock knew. He had personally walked Grimlock through the transition from Dinobot to Mustang.

    "Weakling human build. Not lot." It must have sounded lame, even to Grimlock.

    "Grimlock, with the exception of Jazz, who does these things for reasons of noble stupidity passing understanding that you have to love him for, these frames were built for us by these humans to save our lives. I was left in scrap at Autobot City, left lying for dead beside Windcharger and we had to be dug from the rubble after Devastator threw a wall into the room. Sideswipe was pummelled by a Gestalt, Swerve was buried alive in a mineshaft, Smokescreen and Silverstreak were beaten to death by a Decepticon assault in Japan, they are still wearing prototypes, I can't let them leave without a sat-phone pack because of their maintenance schedule, Dead End was bashed by Sideswipe in a frenzy, Skids was beaten by Prowl in a frenzy and don't get started on Prowl, and you! You who stood in the breach and said 'thou shall not pass' and held back Shockwave. They did this for us. They deserve more respect than what you give them."

    "What point?" Wheeljack stared at this Autobot that held so much of his admiration, and tried not to be completely disgusted by his jingoism. No, racism Wheeljack decided in a moment of anger.

    "I don't know, but I do know that we owe them our lives. Either way we have to broach the Vault."

    "No."

    "That thing Jazz discovered uses Cybertronian holographic technology but was built by humans. I have to know how they found out. I have to examine Hound's frames."

    "What others say?"

    "Skids agrees, Silverstreak wants me to take better care of my natural aura than to involve myself with such negativity of those who have passed beyond."

    "You say that?"

    "I quoted. It was Jazz' idea, but I've no idea of the others with him."

    "Yes, you Skids only, no humans," Grimlock paused and despite the mask, Wheeljack was aware the Grimlock was struggling with his own question.

    "What about 'Cons? Where they get frames from?" Wheeljack stopped his thought process suddenly.

    "Dead End you know. Swindles frame was one built for Trailbreaker who in the end recovered and never needed it. Shockwave's was built by a number of scientists in Japan working for the Yakuza thinking their own pet Cybertronian would be a good thing to have, or at least that was how the survivors told the story, Ravage I have no idea, Wildrider I've been thinking about. I've seen that frame before. The colours didn't remind you of anyone?"

    "Yes."

    "It was built for Bumblebee, but he died before a transplant could be affected, although whether Bumblebee would have wanted it is another story. A story YOU know well. Nobody seemed to have noticed when the frame went missing, or even how Wildrider knew it existed."

    "Who knew apart from Autobots?" Wheeljack stopped at Grimlock's question. Wheeljack knew several humans had been implicated in the theft of Trailbreakers frame. Humans had built Shockwaves and likely Ravages frame as well. "Humans betray us numerous occasions. Prowl, Windcharger, Hound dead because humans. NOT tell Grimlock what to think of humans."

    Wheeljack was left looking at the retreating back of his friend and commander. Despite Grimlock's counter-accusations Wheeljack felt nothing but anger towards the Dinobot. Pausing, Wheeljack got his anger under control. He never used to be this angry. If only Ratchet were here. He missed his old partner from the Ark days a lot more since becoming marooned, once again on Earth.

    One more mental shrug and Wheeljack turned to walk back across the hanger towards Skids and Silverstreak. There was much to organise.
     
  16. RHansen

    RHansen Sir. Ranbotnic Veteran

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    YAY these are back! haha sweet!

    you need to send me a final draft of the other binaltech story man, i wanna read it as a whole!
     
  17. Rotorstorm

    Rotorstorm OriginalRotorstorm Fanboy

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    my god updates are frikin sweet.

    you need to tell us who died in this continuity, before the last chapter i assumed that brawn and bumblebee were still alive
     
  18. Falcadore

    Falcadore Touring Car Autobot

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    Made some changes - of particular significance is the 'mystery radio conversation' where I made some changes. Mostly it was unchecked spelling though.

    OK - who is dead and who is not...

    Well both my Alt tales are set after the events of the cartoon series as we know it.

    Those now dead (written from perspective of those involved):
    Bombshell - cast adrift from Astrotrain, missing presumed dead
    Brawn - killed by Megatron, body destroyed in shuttle crash, remains mysteriously found in Australia
    Breakdown - missing presumed killed by Sideswipe unconfirmed
    Bruticus - presumed killed by death of Swindle
    Bumblebee - killed details unconfirmed, shortly after death of Spike Witwicky
    Dragstrip - killed by Sideswipe
    General Hawk Stewart - killed by Decepticharge when building he was in was destroyed
    Hound - killed by Ravage
    Ironhide - killed by Megatron, body destroyed in shuttle crash
    Kickback - cast adrift from Astrotrain, missing presumed dead
    Megatron - cast adrift from Astrotrain, missing presumed dead, suggested by Starscream that Galvatron is Megatron, unconfirmed
    Menasor - presumed deceased by death of Stunticons
    Motormaster - tortured and killed by Sideswipe
    Optimus Prime - died from wounds inflicted by Megatron
    Prowl - severly wounded by Scavenger and by shuttle crash, Binaltech procedure saves life, subsequently disembowled by Ravage
    Ratchet - killed by Megatron, body destroyed in shuttle crash
    Ravage - killed after severe beating by Prowl
    Shockwave - killed by Wildrider, spark preserved briefly as new Heart of Cybertron, dispersed by Windcharger
    Shrapnell - cast adrift from Astrotrain, missing presumed dead
    Skywarp - cast adrift from Astrotrain, missing presumed dead
    Spike Witwicky - killed details unconfirmed, while in the company of Bumblebee
    Starscream - killed by Galvatron
    Sunstreaker - killed by Menasor
    Swindle - killed, decapitated by Ravage
    Thundercracker - cast adrift from Astrotrain, missing presumed dead
    Unicron - killed by Rodimus Prime
    Wildrider - severly wounded by Sideswipe, adopted Decepticharge identity, supercharged by faux Heart of Cybertron, powers neutered by Windcharger, executed by Sideswipe
    Windcharger - sacrificed himself to end threat of Super-Decepticharge

    Storm: that answer your question?
     
  19. My03Tundra

    My03Tundra LOVES TO EDIT POSTS!!

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    Hey, Falcadore, keep it up! It is reading like a great story, and I can't wait for the next chapter.
     
  20. Xaxis

    Xaxis Well-Known Member

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    Nice chapter, Flacadore, glad to see an update! :D 

    One correction: the word "interned" should be "interred". I only know the difference because my wife works in funeral services.

    I'm looking forward to seeing this story unfold, seems like you have some interesting developments planned! And thanks for the list of deceased, very helpful!

    Cheers!
     

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