Transformers: Extraction

Discussion in 'Transformers Fan Fiction' started by GC Rust, Mar 11, 2011.

  1. GC Rust

    GC Rust The Shield and the Sword

    Jul 5, 2008
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    Author's Note

    This is a re-imagining of my own personal Toyverse, which was originally chronicled in the form of Character Bios.

    This initial story, which will cumulatively be known as Planetfall I hope to be completed by the end of next week with several updates (Consider this the "TV Movie Premiere"), with stand alone tales to be completed as time and motivation permit after that. Instead of calling it "Own Little World" or my initial idea of "More Then Meets The Eye", I'm calling my Toyverse fiction Extraction.

    Please enjoy the stories and know C&C is welcome.



    The farthest known astral body in our solar system, and recently downgraded from a planet to a dwarf planet (in a reason known only to academics), and something that does not see much of the radiant warmth of its own star. Constantly shadowed by even its own moon, it's orbit is erratic and generally not something the local sapient population concerns itself with.

    It is also far enough out that the aforementioned sapients wouldn't notice the fiery, electric blue storm that was taking place just beyond it. The void between stars sizzled and electricity danced in a manner that would cause all Einstein physicists to stare in dumbfounded disbelief.

    But if they would have found the light show impressive, what its arrival heralded would have stunned them to their souls.

    The gigantic megalithic structure that would only be vaguely recognized as a starship seemed to suddenly materialize at the heart of the storm. As soon as the ship appeared, the weird fiery blue electricity ceased. Drifting in system by inertia alone, the massive vessel was nearly half again as large as the moon around the tiny dwarf planet it emerged next to. Less a ship and more a planetary body all its own, only its own mounted running lights gave any hit to its shape or the fact it was colored a dull, metallic orange.

    "Transwarp Jump, successful. The Ark has reconstituted into normal space." The ship's pilot reported from his station.

    “Well done.” The ship’s captain remarked as his central command chair pivoted to the right, towards the extensive science suite boasted on the bridge. “Prepare to launch Sky Spies. I’m eager to see what sort of resources are available. Also…”

    “TRANSMISSIONS DETECTED!” The shout emanated from the Communications suite. The figure manning the station was standing and turned towards the captain. “Multiple transmissions detected on multiple frequencies!”

    The commander’s chair snapped to its forward position and the captain rose. “Locate source of those transmissions!”

    “Tracing origin of signal now.” Communications replied, settling back into his seat. “Transmission origin point localized to the third planet of this star system.”

    “Show me!”

    The imagery that suddenly flooded the bridge horrified its crew. Sports Cars zipping around a circular track, cars and trucks exploding in an action movie, military footage of artillery batteries being taken out by war planes, scenes of gridlocked traffic along a busy interstate.

    And interlaced with all these images, views of a strange, pink bipedal organism that seemed to be controlling these machines.

    “Blasphemy.” The Ark’s Commander, known to his crew as Megatron, whispered. “This is blasphemy.”


    “Status report.”

    Megatron and his ship’s senior officers sat in the Ark’s Main Conference Chamber several hours later, and while his posture in his own chair indicated a relaxed, casual comfort everyone knew Megatron seethed with rage over the transmissions.

    “The Sky Spies have finished their preliminary survey of this solar system,” The green, orange, and purple robot known as Scorponok said. “This solar system is young, cosmically speaking, and rich in many base compounds. Outside the third planet, it’s also completely unexploited. “

    At mention of the third planet, Megatron’s optics narrowed and his grip tightened dangerously on the side of his chair, but Scorponok carried on without seeming to notice.

    “The current astral body nearest to the ship is rich in nitrogen, but it’s all frozen. I’ve already assigned a team to start rigging up a heat plant on the surface, but it’s my opinion that we’re wasting time with it. There’s plenty of other material we can accumulate easier within the system, and it’s not like the body’s going anywhere. In particular, the next closest astral body is a jackpot of hydrogen, helium, and methane. Commander, this star system could be heavily mined for nearly a millennia before we even notice a drop in effective resource nodes. This system has the makings of being Cybertron’s primary mining operation!”

    “Excellent news, Scorponok.” Megatron replied. “And I’m forced to agree about the local astral body. It’s a small piston compared to the others, and best left as a token offering for those Dead End rejects who spring up in a system to exploit minor nodes. Recall your heat plant team and reassign them to setting up hydrogen kites on the next closest body. It will give us a local refueling point as well firmly lay a claim to the helium and methane. The Elder Council would appreciate it if we secured the more important nodes for government mining before we turn the system loose to private investors.

    And on that note, let’s turn our attention to the third planet of this system. Scorponok, you said that the third planet was in the process of being exploited?”

    Scorponok shifted in his seat, uncomfortably. “Yes, Commander. The local organic infestation is burning through the valuable resources on the third planet at a incredibly alarming rate. If current estimates hold true, they’ll use up the planet’s available hydrocarbon resources within the next few hundred stellar cycles.”

    “Organic infestation?” An indignant voice cut in. “They’re the planet’s dominant life form!”

    Megatron grimaced but waved Scorponok to silence as the Mining Mech opened his mouth to speak. Megatron then regarded the speaker - a blue and red mechanoid who was also head of the ship’s Science Division.

    “Organics are hardly what I would classify as a life form, Orion.” Megatron said in as neutral a tone as possible. “Especially not one that so blatantly violates the Covenant of Primus.”

    Orion Pax’s mouth plate was pressed firm in determination. “Violations of religious prescriptions we’ve found no evidence this society even knows exists! Primus created mechanical life, Commander. The Covenant says nothing about Organic life.”

    “Organic life?” Another bot scoffed. Green, Orange, and Red, Bludgeon was the head of security aboard the ship. “Sentinel Prime was the last Cybertronian to ascribe anything like sapience to Organics, and look what it got him? His signal went dark on Quintessa and after all this time, we’ve still heard nothing from him or the organics he was investigating.”

    “If you ask me, that cross wired servo mech deserved what happened to him.” Scorponok scoffed. “Organics as life forms. Tell us another one, Pax!”

    “I’m just saying that these organics have an extensive infrastructure and definite machine presence that was hardly subjugated.” Orion continued doggedly. “The samples I had the Sky Spy take of their machinery indicates only the most rudimentary computer systems present and no Spark what-so-ever.”

    “So they blaspheme not only by not holding machines in the proper reverence, but by making graven images of our sacred form.” Megatron replied in a deathly calm voice. “Regardless of any of our views on the subject, the Elder Council SOP for these situations is crystal clear, and I’ve already forwarded all the data to Cybertron. We should hear back from them in a Deca-Cycle with what they want done with the organics. After which time, I expect all directives from the Elder Council to be obeyed, is that clear?”

    Megatron held Orion Pax’s optics until the scientist managed a jerky nod. He was no fool, he knew the Council shared Megatron’s own religious inclination to the organics. The fact they were actively strip mining the planet would also factor into the Council’s thinking. Cybertron was constantly resource starved, and even with the rest of the star system to keep them occupied, they wouldn’t want to let any substantial quantity of resources go to waste.

    “In the meantime, while we wait for instructions,” Megatron shifted his attention back to Scorponok. “I’ll be ordering the Ark to a parking orbit around that astral body you mentioned. We were sent out here to do a job, so we’d best be about it.”
  2. ARCTrooperAlpha

    ARCTrooperAlpha Well-Known Member

    Feb 2, 2011
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    pretty good so far, got a Defiance kinda feel
  3. Honorbound

    Honorbound The Reclusive Semi-Lurker

    May 23, 2010
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    This looks pretty good, so far. I like the history you've described in terms of Sentinel Prime and Quintessa. Your idea to make the humans seem like an abomination to mechanical life forms makes sense as well, especially if humans and Quintessons are the only organics Cybertronian civilization has encountered.

    As for Orion, he's keeping some bad company. Either he's completely on his own or he only has a small staff to command.
  4. GC Rust

    GC Rust The Shield and the Sword

    Jul 5, 2008
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    ((I'm glad you both are enjoying it thus far. Orion has friends - even some he doesn't know he has - the problem is they're scattered all over the ship.))

    Orion Pax stepped into the Lift Tube, punched his destination, and then reclined back against the far wall and turned off his optics.

    He shouldn’t hold the general attitude for the organics on the third planet against his fellows, he supposed. Bludgeon after all had raised a good point with Sentinel Prime, and every other planet Cybertron had explored, Organic life was not very developed lending credence to the theory that Mechanical life was the will of Primus.

    Explored? HA! Be fair, Orion. Pax thought to himself. Cybertron doesn’t explore for the sake of exploring. It’s all about the resources. What can we get from the planet? Anything that interferes with that is a hindrance.

    Still, in this instance Orion had to admit it had less to do with the resources still available on the third planet then what they had found. The others might hide it under religious symbolism, but the transmissions coming from that planet - not to mention the sheer number of them - have everyone a little spooked. Including one Orion Pax.

    Orion might not agree with standing Cybertronian policy about strip mining anything and everything from neighboring star systems (For one thing, it promoted terrible waste and inefficiency within his own kind), and he might be far more open to the concept of non-mechanical life then other Cybertronians, but he doubted very much he would ever get used to the concepts he advocated.

    The Lift Tube stopped and the doors hissed open, depositing Orion right outside the main science lab onboard The Ark. Mastering his concerns, Orion stepped through the hatch and into his own personal domain.

    “Wheeljack, give me a status report.”

    The white and gray robot glanced up from his work station at Orion’s comment. Wheeljack had been tasked by Orion prior to the meeting to investigate the Sky Spy’s samples from the third planet - namely, what was apparently called a Morrissey Motor Company Jeep Grand Cherokee Sports Utility Vehicle, which in Wheeljack’s opinion was a obscene amount of words to describe one simple ground transport.

    Orion’s opening statement had managed to distract him however, and the plasma torch he’d been using to dissect the vehicle veered down and to the right…and ignited the vehicle’s still half full fuel tank. Wheeljack let out a yelp and hopped back just before the lab’s build in fire suppression system kicked on and put out the blaze.

    “Status report?” Wheeljack asked Orion blandly as he rubbed a hand that had gotten a little too close to the blast and looking at his ruined work in disgust. “Well, the organics like to build them big and dangerous. Thankfully, their hydrocarbons aren’t designed for immolation like our Energon Cubes are, otherwise that would have been a hull breech.”

    Orion gazed at the damaged human vehicle and near totaled work station. “How many more samples do we have?”

    “Two, but none like that.” Wheeljack replied. “Unless we can get authorization to get the Sky Spy to collect more, at any rate. “

    Orion nodded. “I’m sorry I distracted you. That sample’s loss could end up costing us.”

    Wheeljack waved a hand in front of his face in a brushing off gesture. “I wouldn’t worry about it, boss. I was dissecting it to kill time anyway. It wasn’t exactly filled to the brim with scientific discovery, beyond the fact these organics are on the smaller side. More akin to our own Micromasters.”

    Orion nodded absently. The Micromasters were generally regarded as a throwback to an era when the Elder Council had been seen as unduly pessimistic and had begun downgrading Cybertronians into smaller, more fuel efficient bodies. The program was halted the very next election cycle and those Cybertronians who had undergone the upgrade had found themselves as second class citizens, as successive Councils had seen no need to make Cybertronian technology and buildings “Micro Compatible”.

    “Prowl, what’s your take on the data feeds?” Orion called out across the lab.

    The white and black bot, Orion’s chief Information Analyst, glanced up from his data pad. “I’m sorry Pax, I’m not entirely certain. I shunted the third planet feeds analysis over to Bluestreak.”

    “I see.” Orion said. “And what exactly are you working on, if I might ask?”

    “Ah, well…” Prowl hesitated.

    “Prowl.” Orion said, a warning tone in his voice.

    Prowl looked abashed and actually looked down at the deck. “I’m ah…analyzing the organics apparently aggressive military presence.”

    Orion smiled, but fought down the urge to chuckle at the revelation of what Prowl was doing. Military strategy and analysis was one of Prowl’s passionate hobbies. Orion supposed he could come down on the bot since he was shirking his assigned duties to indulge in a hobby, but Orion didn’t see the need. Bluestreak hadn’t been working on anything major anyway.

    “Well, if Commander Megatron needs to know what sort of weaponry the organics have developed, I’ll direct him towards you.” Orion glanced at both Wheeljack and Prowl. “Keep up the work, you two. I have a feeling it won’t be too much longer before we’re all back on mineral analysis duty.”

    “Megatron contacted the Council, huh?” Wheeljack asked. “I wondered how long it would take him, after those transmissions.”

    “How soon can we expect a response?” Prowl inquired.

    “Megatron didn’t see why it would be any sooner then a Deca-cycle, so we have that long to see if there’s anything about these organics that could merit further study. Otherwise, I suspect Megatron’s going to opt to purge the organics for blasphemy.”

    Wheeljack rolled his optics and even Prowl looked a little queasy at that prospect.

    “In any event, I’m going to go see how Ratchet’s coming along.” Orion said briskly, moving towards the Lift Tube that would take him to the Science Division’s Medical Ward.

    “Better you then me.” Prowl muttered.


    “Pax, I’ve got better things to do right now!”

    Orion followed calmly behind the Ark’s chief medical officer as he made his rounds.

    “Sideswipe and Sunstreaker from Security managed to get both their fool heads lodged in a auto cannon turret, and Octane from Mining is in bad shape after a mishap during the construction of a heat plant. I simply don’t have the time to be conducting bio scans on some infestation on a planet clear on the other side of the solar system!”

    “That “infestation” might be a new form of life, Ratchet.” Orion remarked. “They’ve shown the capability for constructing infrastructure and…”

    “Yes, yes. I’ve viewed the recordings.” Ratchet waved his nominal superior off. “It’s all quite impressive - and blasphemous too - but I don’t buy the existence of infrastructure and some organic ‘noise’ as instant proof of anything other then hardwired genetic programming.”

    Orion sighed. “So you haven’t even bothered doing a cursory bio scan yet?”

    “On the contrary.” Ratchet said, slightly offended. “I might be overworked and undercharged, but I am capable of delegation of duties. Mindwipe and Starscream are both conducting the bio scan now.”


    The first thing Pax noticed when he stepped through the door was the organic was emitting a long, unbroken noise that sounded suspiciously like terror.

    “What in the name of the Golden Spires is that noise?” Orion inquired.

    The organic sample in question was suspended in a field of blue energy on the far side of the room. Anti-Gravitational tethers had hoisted it up to what would be eye level with the average Cybertronian, and the harmless laser scanners were rotating at a steady clip around the sample. Starscream, a gray, red, and blue mechanoid, was staring at the read outs in interest while Mindwipe, a black and red bot, was inspecting the sample itself.

    “I fear that might have been my fault, Sir.” Mindwipe said, turning away from the organic. “I determined that it would be better for our readings if the sample was removed from stasis. It’s been emitting that strange noise ever since.”

    “Well, it best stop soon.” Starscream remarked from his terminal. “It’s respiratory system operates on a primary oxygen mix. When we found that out, we obviously flooded the sample tank with the stuff, but his breathable mixture isn’t exactly in excessive supply onboard. He’s burning through what’s available rather quickly.”

    “I’d hate to put it back into stasis just yet, Orion.” Mindwipe chimed in. “We’re getting some rather extensive readings now that its aware. It’s got an amazingly complex circulatory system and it’s pumping some sort of primary fuel I’ve never seen before. Some sort of liquid and glucose base formula that’s absolutely fascinating. I’m looking forward to extracting some samples.”

    Orion nodded to the two and gazed at the Organic, who continued to scream though Orion had no idea what it was doing. Middle aged and overweight, the man was dressed in a moderately well tailored business suit whose pants were soiled with substances best left to the imagination.

    “Ugly things, aren’t they?” Orion casually remarked. “Still, no one said they had to be physically appealing I suppose.”

    Orion stepped forward so that the organic could see him, and the organic paused in its loud vocal declaration and began emitting some strange, soft keening noise.

    “Interesting.” Starscream muttered from the console. “That sounds almost like the call of one of the main organic components of Draxis XII. According to the literature, it’s to signal mating.”

    Mindwipe laughed. “Careful Orion. You must look awfully appealing to it then.”

    Orion paid the two scientists no mind as he regarded the whimpering human. “We mean you and your people no harm.”

    The organic stared blankly at him for a few moments and continued to wimper.

    “Hmm. Primary power motor just increased rate of delivering that odd fuel by another two percent.” Starscream commented.

    “It’s no use, Orion.” Mindwipe said with a shake of his head. “I’m willing to admit this is the strangest batch of organics I’ve ever studied, but it’s obvious to me they are oblivious to vocal communication.”

    “No, I don’t think so.” Orion said, studying the sample more intently. “The initial transmissions featured plenty of vocal communication from these creatures. I think it’s just a matter they don’t understand our language any more then we understand theirs.”

    Starscream sniggered. “Right. Next you’ll be telling us space barnacles communicate through wi-fi.”

    “You’d be surprised, Screamer.” Mindwipe commented. “I’ve seen some literature.”

    “Bluestreak’s apparently taking in the organic’s data feeds. I’ll see if he has anything about these organics’ and their ability - or lack there of - to communicate.” Orion stood up and nodded to both the other bots. “Carry on you two, you’re doing good work. Hopefully, I’ll be back soon, and I’ll try to see if I can learn something else.”

    “I doubt he’s going anywhere Orion, we’ll be here.” Mindwipe saluted his commander as Orion left the lab. “Alright, Starscream, how’s that bio scan coming along?”

    “These organics have the strangest things going the weirdest places.” Starscream remarked with a look of disgust.

    “Anything on your screen indicate pain receptors?”

    “Maybe, but I’m not sure.” Starscream studied his data read outs some more. “They might be muddled in here somewhere. Why?”

    Mindwipe extended a finger and a long needle emerged from it. “Because that strange fuel these organics use…I’m dying of curiosity over here.”

    “Probably want to take it easy, in case Orion does come back.” Starscream remarked.

    “Oh I agree completely.” Mindwipe said. “Your read outs don’t indicate much in the way of the substance either - something else that fascinates me. I won’t extract more then a test tube full.”

    Fortunately for the Human in question, a Cybertronian test tube could only hold two pints. Unfortunately for Mindwipe, the Human began emitting its shrieking the moment the needle pierced its neck.
  5. GC Rust

    GC Rust The Shield and the Sword

    Jul 5, 2008
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    As Orion neared the communications station where Bluestreak worked, he noticed a small mechanoid standing in the doorway. Yellow and black with white highlights the mechanoid was holding a sonic polisher, marking him as one of the Ark’s maintenance bots. The bot was staring almost in rapture through the open doorway.

    “You there!” Orion said, coming up on the still oblivious mech. “Is there a problem?”

    “What?” The small mech jumped back in shock, and then registered that he was standing in the presence of the ship’s Senior Science Officer and quickly braced to attention. “Sorry sir!”

    Orion smiled easily. “At ease, friend.”

    The mech relaxed visibly. “Sir, if I may ask…what’s going to happen to the Humans?”

    Orion raised an optic ridge. “Humans?”

    “He means the organics on the third planet, Pax.” Bluestreak said from the open doorway, a data crystal in hand and a sly grin on his face. “He’s been standing outside the door for a megacycle and I didn’t have the heart to tell him to buzz off. If anything, it made going through the take easier to know someone else was seeing what I was seeing.”

    “What can you tell me about these…Humans?” Orion asked.

    “They’re incredible!” The yellow maintenance bot proclaimed enthusiastically. “They’ve got all this art and culture, living on one tiny planet and creating such a diverse spectrum of ideals and clothing and entertainment…”

    The bot paused and suddenly looked abashed as he realized he had injected himself into a conversation he had no business in. Orion and Bluestreak exchanged looks and mutual grins.

    “The little guy’s right, Pax.” Bluestreak conceded, and thereby giving the mech a reason to be in the conversation. “They’re unlike anything we’ve ever encountered in organic life forms, unless you count baseless speculation from the fringes of our scientific community. These creatures even have a limited space capability, which is fairly heavy blow to the concept that organics are a infection on otherwise mineral rich worlds.”

    Bluestreak hesitated for a moment, but then plunged headlong. “The fact they don’t follow the Covenant of Primus is bothersome, but in every other way that counts, these creatures pass the Cybertronian Scientific Community litmus test for sapience. They’re alive, Pax.”

    “So have you had enough time to run a language primer?” Orion inquired.

    Bluestreak shook his head in the negative. “I’m sorry Pax, but with so much raw data I barely had enough time to start understanding it myself, let along writing an algorithm…”

    “I’ve got one.” The maintenance mech said, suddenly. Both Orion and Bluestreak looked at him in surprise, and the little mech shrugged. “I worked for the FCA before the Elder Council deep sixed the project. I never got around to deleting my primer software.”

    Orion nodded in understanding. The FCA - First Contact Administration - had been headed up by Sentinel Prime and was established for the sole purpose of making contact with non-mechanical life. The notion was not viewed fondly in academic and religious circles and when Sentinel Prime vanished, his organization - which had managed to barely get funding from the Elder Council - was swiftly eliminated.

    “What’s a mech with primer software doing scrubbing floors?” Bluestreak inquired.

    “Most of us from Sentinel’s crew are doing crap jobs now-a-days.” The mech said with a shrug. “No credible outfit wants anything to do with us. Those of us that didn’t drift into the Dead End just end up working where we can.”

    “What’s your identification?” Orion asked.

    “Bumblebee, sir.” The mech replied.

    “Well Bumblebee, consider this an official commendation on my part. I’ll ensure you get a notation in your profile for going above and beyond your assigned function. Hopefully, that will aid you in future career opportunities. If I may have the primer?”

    Bumblebee beamed at the praise, but then blinked at the reminder that Orion and Bluestreak still didn’t have the language primer. “Oh. Oh, sorry.”

    Reaching around the back of his head, Bumblebee extracted a tiny little chip and handed it to Orion, who in turn inserted it into a slot on the back of his head. He then removed the chip, and passed it to Bluestreak who did the same.

    “Hm. It’s not complete.” Bluestreak complained.

    “But it will serve as a good language kernel.” Orion remarked. “Bluestreak, attend me. I’m going back up to Medical and try to make contact with our specimen. Bumblebee…“ A lurking grin spread across Orion’s face. “…you best get back to work before your supervisor comes along."

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