Transformers Chronicles (Draft 2)

Discussion in 'Transformers Fan Fiction' started by herugrim, Oct 11, 2012.

  1. herugrim

    herugrim Defiler of Energon

    Aug 15, 2007
    Trophy Points:
    Back with the second draft of my TransFanFic. It's been pretty severely reworked so even if you've read the previous draft, this one will seem entirely new. It is not set in any established continuity. I've made it a self-contained story that uses elements from various peices of Transformers fiction. I hope you enjoy!

    Cast to date: Strange vehicle (Deadend) - Prime Deadend

    It was another sunny day in the city of Detroit. A crisp northern wind drifted through the bustling streets of Motor City. For Officer Carl Johnson, it was a typical Saturday. His stomach complained about how late in the day it was, while he waited for his partner to return to the cruiser with lunch. They had been held up at an elementary school downtown, in response to a fight that had broken out between two of the students from rival gangs. To him all it really meant was another afternoon of paperwork before he could finally get home to his wife.

    “What the Hell took so long, Al?” he barks at his partner, Officer Allan Brand, as he returned to the car with two hot sandwiches wrapped in tin foil.

    “Quit your bellyaching Carl. The line was held up by an old man which very specific tastes.”

    “Special order huh? Never understood why people just don’t go for something on the menu and move on so the rest of us blue collar scrubs can eat.”

    “Yeah well, you know how it is,” Al grumbled as he passed his partner his hot pastrami hoagie, and opened up his own roast beef sandwich. “Some people just love to be served. They like the feeling of authority they get. Like an emperor of the fast foot joint or something.”

    The two police officers waste no time digging into their meals. They knew any minute they could get a call for another mundane offense that they’d have to deal with. As if on cue, a strangely colored sports car appears in their rear-view, moving at high speed.

    “Hey Al, what is that?”

    His partner grunts as he checks his own mirror. “Dunno,” he mumbles with a mouth of food. He takes a moment to swallow. “Don’t look street legal. Can’t say much for the colors either.”

    “Well,” Carl chuckles after another bite. “No accounting for taste is there.”

    The two officers share a brief laugh, content to let the reckless teen get away with one while they ate, until the vehicle drove by. Its speed was so excessive that it rocked the cruiser, along with all the other cars parked along the street. Car alarms shrieked to life and lights flashed in protest of the event, and the two officers nearly choke on their food.

    “Alright partner, lets go!” Al complains as he tosses his sandwich out the window at the same time as his partner.

    “So much for lunch,” Carl whined with a grimace. “I’m going to slap this kid with so many violations his head’ll spin!”

    The cops his the lights and the sirens as the engage pursuit. They barely manage to catch up to the vehicle as it begins to swerve from side to side.
    “What is it? A Stratos?” Carl ponders as he squints his eyes.

    “Maybe,” his partner answers with a stern voice. “Looks heavily modified. Wonder how many chop shops he used to get those parts.”

    “This looks like it’s going to be more trouble than we thought.”

    The speeder’s driving gets more erratic as the chase continues. He crashes into vehicles on both sides of the roads and knocks them clear into the sidewalk. Civilians dive for cover, but some unlucky ones get pinned into buildings or crushed underneath the upturned vehicles.

    “What the Hell? He’s knocking those cars over like dominos, and there isn’t even a scratch on the frame?” Carl observes with alarm.

    “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Al remarks, his eyes wide with amazement. “Some kind of reinforced frame? Some experimental alloy made in a garage laboratory?”

    As if to show off, the stunt driver plows into the sidewalk. He knocks over a street light, a telephone pole, and rips right through traffic stopped at the intersection. The cops skid to a halt as the vehicle actually climbs up the side of a building. The tires rip through the windows and scorched rubber melts onto the concrete as the vehicle tears back to the ground and fishtails into the street. It comes face to face with the police cruiser.

    “What the…” the simultaneous utterance of the officers is cut off as two long, curved blades slide out of the front bumper of the vehicle. A corrosive liquid spills from the blades and burns black holes into the concrete. The two officers stare in shock as the vehicle peels out and runs straight at them.

    New Cast - White Car (Drift - Generations Drift).

    In seconds too short for the human mind to comprehend, a white streak smashes into the side of the mysterious attacker and forces it down the street to the next intersection. Panels shift and slide into new positions as the machines reconfigure into enormous humanoid robots. A heavily digitized voice growls in an unknown language from the white mechanoid. The other malicious mech responds only with a twitch of the cranial unit before he draws two lengthy curved blades. As he flips them into an inverted stance, more acid spills from the weapons and burns into the nearby buildings and vehicles. The white robot responds in kind, drawing two short, thick blades and drops into a fighting stance.

    The two police officers step out of their cruiser and stare on in astonishment as the two giant robots lock into a series of fluid exchanges. Sparks ignite the air as the two sets of blades bite at each other and the combatants bounce off the sides of buildings while they work down the street. The white mechanoid withdraws when smoke wafts from its burnt blades. The robot sheathes his weapons and grumbles another foreign word as his enemy prepares another volley.

    The dark fighter spins like a tornado and whiplashes acid in a crisscross pattern at its adversary. The lighter robot nimbly evades with a backflip and lunches itself off the side of a building. The black robot scrapes to a halt as his air-born foe passes overhead. The lighter mechanoid grabs his opponent mid-air and as it swings down it pulls its momentum into the enemy robot and hurls it overhead and down the road. The enemy robot tumbles as it hits the ground and reconfigures back into a sports car. The other robot answers in kind and transforms into a white drift racer with Japanese kanji inscribed on the sides in red.

    The two officers continue to stare in disbelief as the two vehicles race to the outer limits of the city. “That’s going to be one Hell of an incident report.” Carl mutters when he can finally blink.

    “Yeah…” is the only utterance Al can manage. The two of them don’t even notice the pack of black SUVs and unmarked sedans that surround the area. A small army of tall men in dark suits step out of the vehicles. They chatter on their earpieces as they assess the situation.

    “Units Danny and Drake have cleared the sector,” reported one of the agents with a stiff voice and a stoic face. “Patrols Alpha through Gamma responding.”

    “Site has been compromised,” another generic agent reports. “Awaiting orders.”

    “Ugh, sir?” Carl quizzes as his senses start to clear and he finally notices the commotion.

    “Orders received,” the second Agent confirms. He then raises a polished .44 magnum right between Carl’s eyes. The bullet rips into the front of the officer’s head and explodes out the back. Al flinches as the remains of his partner’s head splatter onto his face, just as another .44 caliber round blow through the front of his face. In the background, more agents dispatch more witnesses. None are left alive, as an eerie green light emanates from one of the eyes concealed by the dark sunglasses of the agents.

    “Site purged of contamination.”
    Last edited: Oct 11, 2012
  2. herugrim

    herugrim Defiler of Energon

    Aug 15, 2007
    Trophy Points:
    Chapter 01.01

    “Thank Primus, we’ve reached the city limits” Drift exasperates in his head as he chases the Decepticon into the countryside. “I didn’t want to engage in front of the local inhabitants, but I had no choice when he attacked the humans. Dead End…what’s happened to you?”

    The neon colored vehicle skids to the side and transforms back into robot mode, blades drawn. With a guttural hiss he launches another attack. Drift rolls to the side and engages his own robot mode. He spins to his feet and reaches for his weapons, but stops just short.

    “That’s right, his acid will just burn right through them.” He recalls. “Guess I’ll just have to do this the old fashioned way. Isn’t that right, old friend?”

    Drift does his best to dodge the chaotic and corrosive assault from his former comrade. So unpredictable are his attack patterns that the Autobot is barely able to avoid the assault, and completely unable to counter attack. As he weaves between the blades, Drift thinks back about the mechanoid that used to be a close ally.

    “I don’t know what that mad scientist has done to you, Dead End!” Drift called in vain to his old friend. “But you have to fight the programming! He’s turned you into some kind of monster, an uncontrollable mutation! That isn’t what you are!”

    The only response from the Decepticon is another carnal howl. Dead End’s eyes smolder with rage as he lashes out senselessly against his Autobot foe. Drift finally catches his opponent of balance for a split second and manages a sturdy kick to his enemy’s chassis. The Autobot makes one last desperate attempt to get through to his old friend.

    “Don’t be Bludgeon’s proxy, Dead End! Don’t you remember how he killed our master?! How he nuked our school?! The place we called home for so long! He’s the worst kind of evil, Dead End!”

    The Decepticon responds only with another sharp twitch of the cranial unit. With another growl Dead End crosses his blades and then grinds them against each other as he slices the air. Acid from both blades pools together and cuts through the air in a thick splash that splatters on the Autobot. Drift tries to shield himself but is unable to avoid the attack. Black smoke rises from the holes melted into his armor from the attack. Drift manages to flick off some of the corrosive element, but his circuitry remains exposed.

    “So I guess that settles it,” Drift mumbles with grim determination as his armor continues to melt. His right arm reaches around to the long handle that protrudes from his back. “Then I’ll have to defeat you from a distance.”

    “Always eager to draw that toy knife, eh Deadlock?” A voice croaks from Dead End as his optics flicker from their usual neon green to a dark purple. “So immersed in that ancient religion. Tell me, have you named it yet?”

    “Bludgeon…” Drift growls, he instantly recognized the vocal patterns.

    “Pleasing to think you would name it after me, comrade.”

    “Don’t be so egotistical,” Drift barked as his hand tensed around the hilt. “Besides it’s no concern of yours.”

    “So, you haven’t completed the rite yet…” Bludgeon’s voice echoes as Dead End’s cranial unit twitches. “Master would be gravely disappointed.”

    Drift’s optics flare as, in a single fluid motion, he draws the blade and aims the tip at his opponent. Dead End shifts position, anxious to attack yet held back by some unseen fore. “You have no right to speak of our teacher!”

    “Your best friend can’t wait to chop you to pieces, Drift. My programming can barely keep him under control. How does that feel? To be so hated by the one person you trusted most!”

    “I will free him from your twisted manipulations if it’s the last thing I do, Bludgeon!”

    “You should have realized by know that your friend is long gone. Only my experiment remains, and he will serve me faithfully until his demise.”

    “If so, then I will ensure his demise is swift and painless.” As he vows, the kanji on his blade glows with a soft indigo luminescence.

    “You overestimate yourself, Autobot. It is your end that we approach, but it will come at a time of my choosing. I still have uses for you and your playmates.” Dead End’s limbs jerk as gears snap and grind inside his frame. He lets out a furious howl and reluctantly collapses into vehicle mode. In one final attempt he charges to run down Drift, but the deft Autobot jukes to the side. Drift also converts to vehicle mode but stalls shortly after as smoke wafts from his exposed engine.

    “Sol-02 to base, I have a…situation,” Drift radios in. “Requesting assistance.”

Share This Page