Fate/Trans Form

Here's a bio for the new guy.


H'trorren (Earth name: Étienne Seonac de Champlain)

Faction: Autobot
Sub-Faction: Pretender
Rank: Field Agent
Motto: “On on n’oublions jamais.”

Details: Possesses a human-form Pretender shell (as seen in Masterforce). Like other such Pretenders, he is capable of forming a 'battle mode' around his human shell in combat, and can revert to his original Cybertronic form, and back, at will.

Cybertronian alt mode is an aerospace fighter craft. (This looks like Titanium Jetfire, only with green instead of red - biomech form has a retractable faceplate, shown extended on the figure, which when retracted shows a more human-like face with a nose, mouth, a pair of 'eye' optics, and whatnot. Oh, and without the landing-gear 'wardrobe malfuction' of the actual figure...)

Wrist-mounted modules may be detached and combined with backpack to form a smaller jet craft - which may be piloted remotely, flown manually by another person, or by Étienne himself in Pretender form (should he choose not to re-integrate the modules before demolecularisation).

While the remaining chassis could, technically, assume an alt mode by itself... Étienne tries not to use that option overly much.

Is armed with an energo-sword and assault rifle in biomech form, and a smaller version of each in his armed Pretender form.

Strength: 07
Intelligence: 09
Speed: 09
Endurance: 07
Rank: 07
Courage: 08
Firepower: 08
Skill: 09

Bio:

If anyone asked him now about who and what he was, Étienne Seonac de Champlain would give his Earth name (even in biomech form) and describe himself as an Autobot Pretender – a Cybertronian disguised at a sub-molecular level in the body of a human-form Pretender shell – and a field agent assigned to Japan in general, and most recently to the troubled city of Fuyuki-shi.

But it was not always so.

Étienne was ‘born’ as the wholly bio-mechanical H’trorren 1200 years ago in New Iacon, one of the more recent generations to emerge in the new era to emerge in the wake of the Great Shutdown.

Raised in a Cybertron which was, at the time, united under the rule of Shockwave and the Council, his formative years were peaceful ones – yet the (apparent) lack of interest in exploration, or in trying to track down those groups which were known to have taken the Great War with them into the wider galaxy, chafed at the inquisitive H’trorren.

Fortunately for him, he was contacted secretly by representatives of the legendary Countdown – who had made a covert return to Cybertron, unwilling to risk revealing himself openly to Shockwave’s ‘unified’ government – and invited to join the crew of his interstellar operations craft.

Leaving Cybertron behind, he served what was, in effect, his first turn of duty under Countdown’s command – exploring hitherto-unknown sectors of space, making layovers at friendly and allied worlds such as Paradron and (more recently) Nebulos, and engaging the forces of the cunning Skystalker in defence of indigenous species unable to fend the would-be Decepticon tyrant alone.

However, his place among Countdown’s crew would come to an end during the tempestuous events of 2005. Responding to the emergency signal broadcast when Unicron attacked, Countdown’s vessel emerged from transwarp into the Alpha Centauri A system – where they were too late to take part in the engagement. By the time they approached Cybertron itself, the battle was over, but the terrible cost extracted was all too evident. After spending several weeks helping to recover Autobots and Decepticons left drifting in orbit, H’trorren approached Countdown with a transfer request – to go to the one world in this region of the galaxy where he felt he was needed most of all…

…Earth.

Countdown contacted Metalhawk – who not long before had made formal contact with the Autobots who had been active on Earth since 1984, taking his team of Pretenders back to the fold – and arranged for H’trorren to be transferred, as one of a new batch of volunteers who were to be added to Metalhawk’s team in Japan.

However, when the transfer took place, an unforeseen error in his navigation system caused him to crash-land in the Burren, Co. Clare, Ireland – where his tragic first encounter with humanity took place.

Now, he lives on Earth in the guise of a French-Canadian expatriate in Japan, the inheritor of the genetic profile of an Irish youth whose life he could not save, but whose memory he swore to honour. To that end, he tries each day to live up to his lost friend’s dying request:

“If I can’t live in this brave new world of yours… live it for the both of us.”

Only time will tell if he is successful.

Part 14


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BGM: Steve Jablonsky - Soccent Attack


Death had come to the streets, the skyscrapers, and the skies themselves above the Shinto district of Fuyuki-shi.

The nearest squadrons of JASDF F-15s had been scrambled and launched into action... only to be obliterated by the Decepticon flyers patrolling the besieged city - against which they were hopelessly outclassed.

The police and SDF units on the ground fared no better. Soldiers were remorselessly gunned down, APCs and other military vehicles annihilated - either through firepower or through raw, brute force.

Panic and terror gripped the civilian populace, who sought any means of shelter or escape they could find - be it through cramming the underground pedestrian network, cowering behind office walls and furniture in various buildings (including, ironically, the one atop which stood the most feared invader of all) or flocking down along the increasingly few streets, lanes and back alleys which had yet to become killing zones.

Yet, the flyers above were merciless in targeting any moving object which made the error of revealing itself to their targeting sensors - and the feral quintuplet of bio-mechanical assailants had cordoned off an entire quarter of the district into their own de facto hunting grounds... as if preparing for what they knew would be the inevitable response from those they deemed more worthy prey.

However, while many of the Decepticons present relished the opportunity to release the pent-up frustration and anger which the loss of the Great War, and the subsequent years of hiding from the watchful optics of their victorious enemies, there were a few who saw past the immediacy of the event, and realised what change it would represent.

"This is nothing but trouble, boss," 'said' Swindle over a secret channel that only he and the one he sent the message to could access - a result of a long history of avoiding the ever-watchful eye of the Cobalt Sentries and their merciless commander. "Revealing our presence like this is not going to do any wonders for my business..."

Onslaught, who knew his 'subordinate' all too well, thought little of the 'business' the notorious smuggler was referring to… usually.

However, in one respect, he agreed - this was a fool's errand.

Making their presence on Earth public before securing it from the prospect of Autobot interference or readying the logistical preparations needed to subjugate a world such as this had always been considered to be a grave error. Doing so in the aftermath of a lost and ruinous war, with no off-world support for a sustained campaign, and in the context of a world where there were already far too many covert links between the EDC and the Autobots for one's liking, spelled disaster for the barely-tenuous efforts needed to restore the Empire to anything like its former glory.

Megatron would never have approved this, Onslaught thought to himself, as he and Swindle looked up to see the ghastly expression on Galvatron's face as the latter looked on at the carnage all around him. Inferno, even Starscream wasn’t this stupid.

"And I'll tell you something else for free, boss," added Swindle, "there's something really wrong about those things up there. They aren't natural."

Though Onslaught knew that such talk would be tantamount to treason if anyone other than him had heard it, in the core of his spark he knew Swindle was right.

Every one of those Unicron-fashioned beings seemed to exude an aura of... wrongness about them - which for a ruthless bio-mech like Onslaught was quite telling.

Even the least warped of them, the purple fighter craft, was known even among the Earth-bound Decepticons for being un-reasonably attached to Galvatron's service. It was almost as if he had been made that way - that Unicron must have embedded such blind loyalty into whatever it was he had in that spark chamber of his.

And then there was Galvatron himself...

"Kind of makes you wonder who it is we should be shooting at..." Swindle added, and this time Onslaught was goaded into a response. "Focus on the operation, Swindle! There's only so much of that line of reasoning that even I will tolerate from you."

Swindle showed no outward reaction, but would have sighed and shrugged his shoulders had he done so. "Fair enough, boss - but I'm sticking to shooting the fleshies with uniforms on... and I'm already working on a means of getting us the slag outta here when the time comes."

Onslaught remained silent, but it was enough to tell Swindle that he would call on him to deliver said means when the moment was ripe.

In the meantime, Onslaught focussed on the three others who were supposed to be following his orders - cursing that they weren't his other Combaticon regulars.

"Ruckus, Crankcase, Fracture, stay in formation!" he called over, with as much authority as he could muster through his vocal processor.

"What's that, boss?" Ruckus roared, as he jumped forward to bring his fists crashing down onto the side of an SDF APC. "I can't hear you over all this racket!"

The second Decepticon being called shook his head, while rolling out a fresh dose of verbal bile. "Maybe if you stopped being such a slaggin' loudmouth, you wouldn't keep making a fool of yourself! How did I ever get myself into this damned mess... stuck here on this mudball... watching that idiot make a fool of himself again..."

"Enough of your tongue!" snapped the third, who spared just enough energy to say as much before rushing to the corner of a nearby street, then proceeding to stomp her foot upon the ground. The powerful seismic dischargers in her legs activated, and forced open gaping cracks in the ground below, streaking down the street and underneath the various corpses and wrecks littering it.

All of which, of course, was beyond the plan that Onslaught had laid down for them.

"I said get back in formation, NOW!" he commanded, but short of putting a few rounds in their backs, the trio would not listen.

Swindle, staying close to Onslaught, commented more openly. "Makes you wish the gang was still together, huh?"

Quite. Regardless of what he could say - at length - about Brawl, Vortex and Blast Off, at least they were somewhat more likely to fall in... not least because they knew enough to rely on each other more than to take their chances on their own.

As far as Onslaught was concerned, this operation couldn’t end soon enough.


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While this was taking place, the headphone-wearing holomatter simulacrum walked calmly, as it picked up the trace of communication between two more-than-ordinary local beings.

The less scientifically-explicable side of this planet's indigenous life forms had become something of a field of study for the being controlling the holo-man, and the communications sent from the various sources uncovered concerning this city had made uncovering a more direct source of data a high priority.

"Targets located," the holo-man spoke, in a monotone voice, which had more than a hint of a non-Terran origin.

He lifted the blue player and faced it before him, pressing the eject button. "Squalktalk, Beastbox, eject and combine - mission: interference."

Two cassette-type modules - which were shaped thus despite the player being (apparently) designed for digital media - leaped from the device, before transforming and combining in mid-air.

"Mind if I play something interesting?" the gestalt being, Squalkbox, requested.

The holo-man simply nodded.


BGM: Julien-K - Technical Difficulties


"I still can't get through to Garret-dono-tachi, Rider!" said Sakura quietly, yet with a heavy dose of serious concern in her voice.

Rider took a moment to scout the immediate vicinity, before replying in a low voice. "They must be interfering with the signal. We should concentrate on getting out of this district without them following us."

Sakura nodded. The thought of these creatures destroying the Emiya-tei was something she couldn't bear thinking about. "Hai!"

Pocketing the device, she Reinforced her limbs and followed Rider's lead, as the two moved from room to room, then from alley to alley, heading for the river dividing the city.

Using the shadows to try and mask their passage, the two made it to the side entrance of a fifteen-story office block, before they started to hear the approaching music…

“Sakura!” Rider smashed through the glass entrance, and led Sakura through the building and away from the street, but the noise kept approaching.

Suddenly, the PA system in the office started blaring, playing the same piece at an almost deafening rate.


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As Squalkbox made the building’s speaker system his impromptu sound system, the holo-man walked in train, before activating the player once more.

“Laserbeak, Ravage, eject – operation: interception.” At his command, two more modules released themselves, before transforming and racing into action. The first, taking the vague outline of a Terran condor, screeched through the skies as it headed towards its target. The second, assuming the form of a midnight-black jaguar, sprinted along the ground, eschewing its traditional method of blending un-noticed into the shadows at the behest of its watchful commander.

There were yet more cards to be played, if necessary – but Soundwave was content to see what his two most trusted lieutenants could achieve.


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“I’ve been so waiting to take my oeuvre into a more public realm - don’t you agree that it’s been worth the wait?” Squalkbox asked, almost as if he actually expected a serious critique of the piece, as he revealed himself before Rider and Sakura in the main lobby.

Unamused, Rider raced forward and readied herself for the attack – but Squalkbox used his twin concussion cannon to compress the air beneath her, disrupting her leap and sending her to the ground, winded.

“Rider!” Sakura called out, as she raised her hand and prepared to fire a sorcerous projectile at the assailant – while cursing how little time she had been given since her last battle to prepare herself this time around.

However, as Laserbeak screeched into the lobby, Rider made an instinctive throw of her nail-tipped chain at the bio-mechanical condor. Faster than the Decepticon could react, the nail embedded itself in Laserbeak’s neck – and upon impact, Rider clamped on to the near end of the chain, before using herself as a fulcrum in order to spin Laserbeak through the air… and smashing into the side of Squalkbox.

“Gr-aaak!” the ‘musician’ cried out, as he felt the force of the impact, sending both he and Laserbeak sprawling.

Sakura had no time to be relieved, however – as she saw a jet-black metal jaguar sprint use the distraction to sprint towards her.

Yet, she was in no mood to go down quietly. “Stay back!” she called out defiantly, as the building energy in her arm was unleashed. The bolt of energy enveloped Ravage’s overly-sensitive optics, causing him to leap blindly forward – allowing her just enough room to use her Reinforced limbs to scatter to one side.

“let’s go, Master!” Rider insisted, as she scooped Sakura up into her arms, then jumped into the air, aiming to reach a high enough vantage point so as to escape the scene.

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This was not going quite as well as he had hoped – but there were other options.

This time, he held the player to himself, when giving the latest commands. “Rumble, Frenzy, transform – objective: demolition.”

At this, the two white earphones which the holo-man had been ‘listening’ to removed themselves and ventured forth – then assuming their bio-mechanoid forms.

“Just leave it to us, boss!” Frenzy said gleefully, as he and Rumble modified their arms into piledrivers, and made ready to demolish the office block altogether.


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Rider had made it to a high enough level for her to feel comfortable leaping onwards, when she and Sakura could feel the boom-boom-boom from below… and sense the foundations of the building giving way.

“Hold on!” she cried, as she leaped across the street, hoping to reach the other side in time…

…but the side of the building was falling down towards them.

In Rider’s arms, Sakura closed her eyes, and hoped for a miracle…


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BGM: Steve Jablonsky - You’re a Soldier Now


Recklessly separating themselves from Onslaught’s vicinity, Fracture jumped along the abandoned roofs of cars and trucks littering the street, her leg generators crushing each beneath her as she moved forth in a fit of murderous glee, while Ruckus followed not too far behind, revelling in his own fit of destruction.

The moment was interrupted, however, as a sleek white-and-green jet raced mere metres above the ground, and banked sharply to expose its right wing just before Fracture could stop to realise what was happening. The craft’s wing sliced through her exposed and under-armoured lower torso, causing her to scream in shock as her upper chassis collapsed to the ground, her systems going into emergency stasis lock.

Ruckus roared in response at this, instantly recognising the red emblems atop each of the fighter’s wings. “Wretched Autobot! Come and face me if you’re looking for a fight!”

His shoulder-mounted cannon opened up, trying to catch the fast-moving jet as it banked and rolled one way, then the next – its own twin assault rifles strafing the ground beneath him, before scoring damage marks upon his reinforced chassis. “It’ll take worse than that to stop me ticking, Autobot!”

“I’ll see what I can do, then!” he heard coming from one side – before a land vehicle he hadn’t even realised was approaching transformed, and a materialised energo-sword sliced forward, shattering his optic visor.

Before Ruckus could react, the opponent jumped up and turned in mid-air, pressing what was supposed to be the sole of his foot against his face… before leg-mounted engines were ignited, and a rush of superheated flame coursed through the shattered visor and burst out from the sides and back of Ruckus’ head.

Using his slowly-toppling chassis as leverage, the attacker then launched himself forth, where the jet disassembled itself into three pieces, each attaching back to the bio-mech’s form.

“Two down…” Étienne said to no-one in particular, as he flew down the next street over, looking for other Decepticons to introduce himself to.

Yet, he could hear a strange rumbling from around the next corner – and as he banked and changed course, he saw two figures leaping from the side of a collapsing building.

“Hang on!” he called out, as he accelerated forth while rolling himself onto his ‘back’, reaching out his hands in a desperate effort to catch the pair…


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Moments later, he had managed to roll himself back to an ‘upright’ flying position, and was racing away from the scene as fast as he dared while carrying the two.

He looked down to see more clearly who it was – and when he saw the face, the eyes, of the plum-haired lady who looked up at him, he gasped.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the universe!”

Immediately, he blushed – or about as much as a bio-mechanoid can do so – as he realised how profoundly ill-timed such a comment was.

Nevertheless, the lady looked up at him, still holding on to her purple-haired friend, and almost blushed in return. “That’s a very kind thing for you to say, Autobot-san.”

While under different circumstances, he would have wished to stop and ask just why it was she knew about his allegiance – or, perhaps, to clarify if the two were somehow related to the group at the Emiya residence he had been at earlier – he had more immediate concerns. “I’m going to try and cover for you as best I can – try and get out of Shinto, before they finish their work here…”

“I can get her to safety,” Rider insisted, and Étienne nodded.

“Good,” he said, as he came to land in a spot close to the edge of the district – hoping he was giving them enough of a head start so as to evade pursuit altogether. “Stay safe, both of you – and wish me luck!”

Sakura held on tightly as Rider carried her to the ground, before carrying her to what they hoped will be safety. “Ganbatte kudasai, Autobot-san,” Sakura said, grateful for the rescue… albeit not quite sure what to make of the ‘other’ outburst.

“Thanks,” he replied, as he turned and headed down the street. I’ll need it.


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While he had bought the two time, Étienne had unwittingly launched himself into the lair of the beasts.

He jolted to one side as he tried to dodge the rampaging rhino, as he passed a narrow intersection.

He banked upwards and to the right, as a charging bull tried to skewer him on its horns.

He was almost clawed in half by the leaping tiger, which roared with a deep and terrible fury as it tried to reach for him.

He was battered and shaken in mid-air by the assault of the hawk, which strangely seemed to hold off from attempting to make a close-range kill.

He thought he had escaped the worst of it…

…until he glimpsed the golden lion which had been clamping into the side of a nearby building, just long enough to see it pounce and land a telling blow.

Étienne crashed to the ground, his chassis battered and torn, deep gashed left by the claws of the leaping lion, as the Predacons gathered slowly about him.

Their leader, Razorclaw, transformed from lion mode into his intimidating bio-mech form, and summoned his energo-sword as he walked calmly to the fallen one.

“Do you have any last words, Autobot?” Razorclaw asked, almost dismissively, as if following some warped code of honour in allowing the victim a last gasp before the end.

Étienne struggled to move, but managed to lift himself up just slightly enough to allow him to look back into the pitiless eyes of his would-be executioner. “And there I was… hoping I’d be the one… who’d get to ask one more of you Decepticons the same thing…”

“Defiant, I like that,” Razorclaw nodded, almost in respect. “Worthy prey should not cower when the end approaches. But if you wish, I can pass on one piece of information for your spark to take with it on its journey…”

He stopped in front of him, thumbed the activator on the sword, and raised it skywards.

“All good things succumb… to those who wait.”

And at the last, Étienne closed his eyes, and found himself thinking of that plum-haired angel he had been granted a glimpse at.

If this is the end, let it not be in vain…


His meeting with Eternity would have to wait, however – as his optics opened to the sound of a heavy booom just before him, and the sight of a massive explosion hitting Razorclaw in the chest and knocking him backwards.

He looked around, and could see a massive craft swoop down from the sky, the white-hot barrel of the immense rifle upon its back smoking in the after-effect of the shot. The craft then separated into two – the foremost piece racing forth and transforming into an awe-inspiring knightly warrior, the aft piece taking the form of a massive winged, roaring lion.

In the sky he could see a formation of flyers burst into action, a torrent of fire rippling through the sky towards the Decepticons flying above the city.

Upon the ground, he could feel the rumble as the immense bulk of a blue and white truck-trailer drove down one of the streets, a sports car racing beside it, as it headed forth into the fray.

And beside him, an oddly-hovering vehicle transformed and approached him, revealing a somewhat familiar face.

“Wave.. rider?” Étienne asked, still badly wounded from Razorclaw’s earlier strike.

The other Autobot nodded, before preparing a field triage kit to try and stem the worst of the damage. “You’re the one Phoenix mentioned. Nice to meet you properly – now please hold still while I try and fix you up.”

“Oh yeah…” he wondered if his vision was blurring – he should have recognised that Cloudburst was up there, part of the arriving formation.

Strengely, he found himself remembering something from earlier in the day. “Oh, by the way… who’s Garret?”

Waverider simply pointed to one of the taller skyscrapers left standing. “That’s him up there.”

Étienne was stunned as he saw a shining red and gold vehicle emerge from the building’s lower parking levels onto the roof, and noticed the canopy lift up, and a figure use what must have been an ejector seat to spring out of the driving compartment.

He was even more taken aback to see the vehicle accelerate and launch itself off of the side of the building, transforming in mid-air before angling itself down towards Galvatron and smashing sideways into the Decepticon tyrant.

So that must be Rodimus Prime himself, Étienne thought, as he found himself drifting into unconsciousness – but with just enough lucidity to make one final comment:

“Awesome.”


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End of Part 14.

I just added a prologue to the beginning - intended to make things a bit clearer TF-wise for the Fate fans, and a bit clearer Fate-wise for the Transfans.

Here's hoping it works...

Part 15


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BGM: Steve Jablonsky - Downtown Battle


The clash of tooth and claw rang out loudly, as Victory Leo and Razorclaw tore furiously at each other in their respective lion modes.

The Predacon commander was letting slip the carefully-cultivated mask of analytical calculation with which he typically buried his own more feral urges, and lashed out with a wild abandon. Victory Leo, in contrast, was venting the overwhelming anger and fury he felt at the sight of his home town under attack, aching to rend Razorclaw asunder with his bare claws if he had to.

While the two fought on, Star Saber kept the other Predacons at bay - none daring to close within reach of her deadly blade, but all doing their utmost to try and keep her off-balance, while Divebomb circled overhead and prepared to swoop down for a telling strafing run.

Tantrum tried to use such a moment to get a clear run at what was momentarily Victory Leo's exposed flank - but Star Saber, using Excalibur to parry a strike from Rampage's energo-blade, still managed to reach her left fist over to punch through the exposed dorsal fuel tank on the charging bull's flank, causing a blast large enough to send the Predacon flying to one side.


"If you wish for an available opponent, one stands right in front of you!" she defiantly called out, as she brushed Rampage to one side in turn and assumed a defensive stance, preparing for a further attack.

"Not for long, cursed Autobot!" rashly cried Headstrong, who recklessly took the bait and raced towards Star Saber - only to have his path blocked by the thrown chassis of Razorclaw, who had been overpowered by Victory Leo just moments earlier.


"Don't go too far, I'm not finished with you yet!" roared the winged lion - but Star Saber raised her hand to try and hold his ire in check.

"Wait!" she said, "let's combine and finish this!"

Victory Leo had to try and rein in the more feral urges he seemed to feel in lion form, but if anyone's voice commanded his attention, it was hers. "Right!"

Razorclaw lifted himself off of Headstrong's battered chassis, as he looked to see Star Saber and Victory Leo combine into Victory Saber - and rather than being concerned, merely chuckled. "Only two of you combining? Curious..."

Calling out to his unit, Razorclaw commanded: "Predacons, let's show them what a real combiner looks like!"


Heeding the command, the four made their way towards their leader, and Victory Saber looked on as the gestalt entity took form.

For the being taking shape before them was no mere amalgamation of parts, no limited fusing of consciousness, no lesser foe to be concerned with.

Predaking... was something more.

Releasing a low growl, the merged form sized up its opponent, and tensed its claws for the fight to come - as its deep voice rumbled forth. "Let us see how worthy a prey you truly are!"

At this, Victory Saber leaped into the air, and materialised the V-Lock Cannon at its right hip, launching a series of explosive projectiles akin to Broken Phantasms at the foe - but Predaking activated its force field in time to absorb the brunt of the blasts.

"A ranged battle? How unsporting..." goaded Pradaking, who launched himself into the air and prepared Razorclaw's energo-sword and its own enhanced claws to try and reach out for Victory Saber more directly.

Victory Saber, in turn, held Excalibur with both hands, and rushed across to counter-attack. "Then see if you can handle us up close!"


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(...to be continued)

(...continued)


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BGM: Taking Back Sunday - What's it feel like to Be a Ghost?


In contrast to the highly agile Sweeps obliged by their commander to provide an escort, the bulky shuttle mode Astrotrain was flying in was slow to react to the onrushing Autobot flyers - but he reasoned that he would have just enough time to turn and fight... or at least transform and land.

He would have neither.

Twin streaks of superheated energy raced faster than a human eye could follow, and punched two gaping, white-hot holes through Astrotrain's flanks, and out the other end. Critically hit, the Decepticon soon found itself plunging to the ground, then crashing into the flanks of an abandoned skyscraper.

Rather than show any concern, however, the Sweeps were relieved of the need to protect what they considered to be dead weight, and instantly broke from their escort formation and followed their master Scourge - who was already racing forth into the fray.

Cyclonus, meanwhile, had transformed into his bio-mechanoid form and was hovering over the city. Keeping a close watch on the tide of battle, he bore the responsibility for overseeing the tactical operation... since his own master was rather pre-occupied.

He would not be left untroubled for long, however.


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On the ground below, Ultra Magnus and Landmine transformed near an open square, and the latter took a flanking position as Magnus readied his ordnance cannon, this time choosing to operate it in missile launcher mode.

"Can you draw his attention?" Magnus asked, to which Landmine smirked.

"Well, if it isn't Mr. Smithers himself!" Landmine called out to Cyclonus.

The supremely collected field commander would have brushed off almost any other insult, but the implication of that comment infuriated him. "How dare you!" he roared, as he plunged towards Landmine's position.

However, his approach was disrupted by the need to evade the barrage of missiles Magnus fired from his launcher, and he relised his error as he found himself drawn into the City Commander's firing line.

"Keep watch of my flank!" Magnus ordered, and Landmine moved off to one side, trying to take pot-shots at Cyclonus while watching for approaching Decepticons.

"Rest assured, Magnus, you won't - ahh!" Cyclonus' words were stifled by a hit from the missile barrage, which staggered him to one side and left him more vulnerable to further strikes.

Magnus spoke coolly, as he locked on for the next wave. "Don't worry, I won't -"

"What the - gaaaah!" Landmine tried to call out, before an onrushing figure used the massive shield on his left forearm to swat the Pretender aside like a fly, before charging on into Magnus himself.

"I've been looking forward to a good shot at you, Ultra Magnus!" Onslaught cried out, as the crunch of impact knocked Magnus to one side, and forcing him to drop his launcher.

As the two began to brawl, Cyclonus approached the prone Landmine, intent on retribution. "If you don't already regret that choice of comment, you will soon enough."

"Heh," Landmine 'spat' fluid back in response. "Of all the things to regret in one's life, getting at the likes of you is not what I'd consider one of them..."

"We'll see," came the reply, as Cyclonus prepared to rip the impudent Autobot's spark core out of his chassis - before he heard a crashing sound come from the building that Galvatron was standing.

Or, at least, was formerly standing.


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"Come on, get your tailpipes out of there already!" Rumble called in, taunting the trapped Decepticons who Soundwave ordered to be removed from the rubble.

While he never tolerated failure, he deemed the humiliation of enduring such a premature burial to be sufficient - not least since the more important task of resuming the search remained.

In any case, he could not afford to be spiteful.

At least, not right now.

Frenzy was providing cover, itching to get in a fight, but knowing better than to refuse one of Soundwave's orders.

However, it seemed that a fight was coming his way, all the same...

A whooshing sound could be heard rushing through the air, and a moment later Frenzy was grasping at his neck, an energo-dagger slicing deeply into it.

As he gurgled and collapsed into stasis lock, the assailant, freshly emerging from seemingly out of the aether, charged forward behind the protection of a red energo-shield, placing well-aimed shots into the other Decepticons between him and Soundwave.

In reponse, Soundwave dismissed the holographic avatar, and transformed into his full biomech mode, readying his own rifle and shoulder-mounted launcher to initiate a counter-strike.

"Soundwave superior, Autobots inferior!" the blue Decepticon stated in his signature monotone - to which the onrushing attacker smirked.

"Autobot?" he responded. "Not quite." My true 'associates' have plans for you...

The distance closed, and the assailant charged forth and placed a disruptive charge onto Soundwave's chest. It soon activated and sent the communications officer into convulsions, before forcing him to transform back into media player mode.

Satisfied, the assailant turned to the remaining members of Soundwave's unit.

... and plans for the rest of you, too.


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


BGM: Steve Jablonsky - Sam on the Roof


"Are you sure about this?" Rin asked, as she held on to her seat, while Rodimus raced through the winding path to the rooftop.

"I stopped him before, Rin," Rodimus tried to reassure her, "and I can do it again."

She was less than convinced. "But you are still not fully recovered from -"

"Trust me, Rin." He reached the rooftop, and the canopy opened above her head as her seat was primed. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." With that, the seat was ejected, and Rin rushed into the air as the vehicle form of Rodimus Prime - a form she could spot the signs of damage on, even as it raced beneath her - burst off the side of the roof into the air, before transforming and diving in towards Galvatron.

She could see the plumes of dust thrown up by the force of the impact, which drove both opponents into the floors beneath them and obscured them from sight.

The seat's automated systems landed her onto the roof, but she had unfastened the seat-straps and jumped away before it touched down.

Stepping over to the edge of the building, she gasped as the full, awful sight could be seen all around her.


Battered ruins and piles of rubble were strewn in the wake of collapsed and gutted buildings, fires were burning in the chassis of ruined vehicles, the skies boomed with the not-so-distant sound of engine wash and weapon fire...

...and she shad a tear at the thought of hoe badly she left like she had failed.

I am a Tohsaka, she thought to herself. This is my ward - these people my responsbility.

I was supposed to protect them from monsters like these...

I thought it had been enough..

When I...

She thought of the sacrifices she had made during the Grail War - some of which made before the awful truth about the Grail's dark corruption came to light.

She had thought that even with all of the pain and hurt and bloodshed, that at least it had been enough to spare the people of Fuyuki-shi from terror.

She shuddered at the thought that some of her classmates, some of her friends... some of her family... might already be found among the dead.

But, she straightened herself up, and wiped the tear away with the side of her palm.

I am a Tohsaka, she thought once more, as she felt her sorrow and fear turn into steely determination.

And my mission... is only just beginning!


With that, she felt the flow of prana course through her veins, as she jumped forth into the air on a carpet of sorcery, and raced onwards to her new destiny.


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


(...to be continued)

(...continued)


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


BGM: Steve Jablonsky - Optimus Vs Megatron


The debris field which had formed in the wake of the impact cleared, and two diametrically opposed figures lifted themselves out of the gashes their massive forms had rent into the rooftop of the building.

As the dust cleared, two sets of optics stared across the space between them intently - as if each pair was trying to bore holes right through to the back of the other's head.


But only for a moment.


Rodimus Prime picked himself up, then began to charge towards Galvatron - to which the latter responded by stretching out his arms, revealing thick bands of obsidian blackness, each with a nano-razor-sharp edge at their extremities.

The hakai taitei had fashioned the chains which had once bound him into a bitterly ironic choice of weapon.

Galvatron spun the three chains attached to his left wrist, before ferociously whipping them down towards Rodimus. The intended victim had other ideas, however - he dived and rolled diagonally, keeping his momentum going as much as he could while closing the gap between him and Galvatron, and while doing so retracted his left hand. In its place formed a spinning energo-saw, an upgraded form of the saw he had once used to liberate his old mentor from the clutches of a bio-mechanical sea monster on Quintessa.

As Rodimus rolled, he brought his arm up and used the spinning energo-saw to cut through the chains. He struggled to cut through the dense metal, and winced as the part of the chains cut loose lashed down across his chassis.

Galvatron, smirking at the sight, hoped to flay the young Prime as he stood, and readied his right arm for a further strike...

...but the young Prime was not to be taken down so lightly.

Rodimus fought through the pain, leaving the broken ends of the chains behind, as he followed the remainder back to their owner and smashed himself into Galvatron with as much force as he could muster.

This was enough to send the two flying off the far edge of the building, roaring at each other as they plummeted to the distant ground below.


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


The opposing squadrons of airborne craft were, at this stage of the engagement, only loosely holding any semblance of a recognisable formation, as Metalhawk, Phoenix and Jetfire engaged Scourge and his Sweeps in bitter aerial combat.

Each one of the Sweeps posed a dangerous threat, but the Autobots were quite aware of how their commander was at a different level altogether.

“Jetfire, Phoenix, formation 2-8-Delta-Yau, engage!” Metalhawk signalled to his comrades, at which the latter two banked to one side, forming a closer formation in an attempt to draw off the remaining Sweeps…

…while Metalhawk himself raced towards Scourge, transformed in mid-air, and brought his energo-blade down towards the ferocious Decepticon.

Said Decepticon, of course, was only too glad to oblige.

“Heh heh heh,” he snorted, while transforming in response and launching a counter-charge, “you would mistake the hunter for the prey, then?”

Scourge knew how much his ‘brother’ pre-occupied with bothersome things like the ‘big picture’ of tactics and strategies, as well as the fate of their ‘beloved’ leader…

…but so long as he got to fight, he cared not one bit.

Scourge’s claws glowed with a rich energon-pulsed light, as he parried the incoming sword strike. “I would be delighted to disabuse you of that notion, Autobot!”




Meanwhile, away from this combat, Victory Saber and Predaking continued their own duel.

Victory Saber was fast, powerful and flexible, seeming to make the most out of both the ranged firepower which Victory Leo brought to the mix, as well as the finely-honed meléé skills which were Star Saber’s forté.

In contrast, Predaking’s actions seemed to be almost too fast for mere rationality or consciousness to take into account for. While the ferocity which abounded within the Predacon team was one thing, not even the formidable skill set of Razorclaw himself could account for the kind of… instinct that the gestalt possessed in a seemingly endless abundance.

It was far from being just a creature of instinct, however.

“I give you credit,” it remarked, sounding genuinely impressed, as if finding something it had been sorely lacking for a very long time, yet had not really expected to find. “You’re the most worthy prey I have faced in many stellar cycles.”

“We are no-one’s prey!” Victory Saber called back defiantly, its voice almost mid-way between those of its constituent parts. Its yin-yang eyes burned brightly as it shoulder-charged into Predaking’s left flank, and the wings donated by Victory Leo and Divebomb respectively screeched and sparked against one another as the two plunged into the shallow waters of the bay, the two massive opponents crunching into the bed beneath the flotsam.

The fight was by no means done, however, and the two were soon up, tearing at one another with increasing abandon, the few remaining onlookers trying to shelter along the nearby shore gasping in terror.


No matter which proved the victor, they all knew that their lives had changed irrevocably.


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


“I bet there’s not a few out there itching to get a chance like this!” Onslaught was, despite himself, savouring the opportunity to get to grips with the (in)famous City Commander – respected, feared and loathed in equal measure by countless Decepticons, and not a few members of other factions who have sought to capitalise on the misery of the Great War over the millennia.

It was not for nothing that Ultra Magnus was so renowned, however. “And you won’t be the last, Combaticon!”

Magnus put his well-worn Diffusion training into practice, as he shifted his chassis weight in order to direct as much of the impact as he could – which, granted, was not overly much, and certainly not enough to stop Magnus from wincing audibly at the pain of the damage Onslaught’s attack had caused.

It was enough, however, to let Magnus get an arm around the side of the Combaticon’s shield, and lift the latter clean into the air, and smashing into the concrete as Magnus rolled and brought his assailant down hard.

“Landmine!” Magnus called out, all too aware that he was still in no position to intercept Cyclonus in time to prevent him from trying to finish off his comrade, but…

In a flash, Magnus reached over to pick up the launcher he had been forced to let go of when Onslaught charged, and had just about enough time to throw it in Cyclonus’ direction before Onslaught grappled the City Commander once again.

For the time being, there was nothing more he could do.


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


The sound of the air being parted by the thrown weapon reached Cyclonus’ aural sensors only a fraction of a second after the thunderous crash which signalled that his lord and the Prime were on their way down to their level, in a less than measured fashion.

“Mi-” Cyclonus’ cry was interrupted as he was knocked to one side by the sheer mass of the oversized rocket launcher, and the prone Landmine couldn’t resist a bout of acerbic laughter at the Decepticon’s expense.

“Aren’t you supposed to be one of those hyper-aware Unicron-forged super-mechs, Mr. Smithers?” he chuckled, fighting down the fluid forming in his mouth from an unhealed rupture in the back of his throat. “You can chase a ship halfway across the galaxy, but get flat-footed by a… *cough* …giant chunk of metal!”

Such impudence would have earned Landmine an excruciating, and very final, retribution from Cyclonus at any other time – but once he shook off the moment of disorientation, there were far more pressing matters to attend to.


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


Here he is, the voice said, almost, but not quite, tainting him – never quite going away, but not often as assertive than it was at present.

“Quite so,” Galvatron replied, not even realising he was speaking aloud while doing so.

Ironically, Rodimus Prime – the one Autobot that had, in some way, haunted Galvatron’s thoughts ever since that terrible, calamitous day, separated from the present by only two years on a calendar, but by an immense gulf of void in the Emperor of Destruction’s tormented consciousness – had just made some comment or other regarding ‘last battle’ or ‘it ending here’ or some such nonsense, though its intended recipient seemed to have a more… immediate conversation partner.

Go, fight him. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. the voice commanded, taking on a more assertive tone than Galvatron had expected to hear from it.

“I don’t need to be told!” the hakai taitei roared, as he lashed out with his bare hands, again and again and again, trying to breach the Prime’s defences and rip his faceplate off.

But he was parried, blocked, shunted at every turn. The Prime could fight, and fight well, in this close-quarters kind of match-up which even in his pre-Matrix days was his favoured melée range.

Galvatron’s frustration mounted, as his retribution – or was it even that? he wondered to himself for a moment – seemed to be, literally, out of reach.

What are you waiting for?

Are you not the heir of Megatron?

Is this not your destiny, to extinguish the park of Primes?

To forge a legacy of war and death throughout the cosmos?

“Enough…”

Do it. Do it now.

“…I said…”

DO IT!

“ENOUGH!”

He had been knocked to one side by the Prime, and almost out of sheer frustration, his hand reached to the ground, as if to throw the debris at his enemy’s face – when he managed to grab one of the severed heads of the chain he had fashioned earlier.

Leaping forth, he stabbed the edge towards the Prime – the blade biting deep into the forearm which had been brought up to stifle the blow – and Galvatron pressed the arm back towards the Prime’s chest, seeking to force the weapon through the other side of the forearm and deep into the torso itself.

It was insane…

…but it worked.


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


Rodimus Prime had forced himself through far too much already, in such a relatively short time.

He had still not recovered from the brutal assault by the Fallen, which had left scars that neither the set of regen treatments he had been given to try and recuperate, nor even the life-giving properties of the Matrix itself once re-claimed, could have undone.

And now, having gone into this critical fight in such a condition, he was straining himself to his limits in order to take on a foe he had last won against only as a freshly-minted Prime… and remembered all too clearly how close he had come before that to not having any future at all.

But it was not enough.


“Aaaaaaagh!” he screamed, as the spike pierced his blocking forearm, and he felt the tip dig into his chest, just above the point behind which the Matrix itself was housed.

He felt himself sink to his knees, as the inexorable might of the Decepticon emperor bore down upon him, remorseless and without mercy.

He felt so weak…

I can’t let myself fail, he thought, his mind fogging over, the strength in his limbs starting to flag.

It can’t end… like this…

So many people had needed him, had looked up to him, had turned to him as some sort of ‘Chosen One’ – as if he could somehow speak for Primus Himself, in the wake of the horrors wrought by Unicron in 2005.

Of the losses suffered by the climax of the Great War.

Of the death of no less a leader than Optimus Prime.
Is this it? he cursed at himself. Is this all that I am, all that I can be?

His optic-lids closed over, as he tried to push the pain away…


“Get your fucking act in gear, damnit!”

His optics opened again, and looked past Galvatron’s features to see a fiery young lady race down the flanks of a building on wings of pure energy, her hand outstretched and aimed at the lieutenant who was lifting himself up to hover over what he seemed to have hoped was the sight of his ‘Mighty’ leader finishing his weakened foe off.

Rodimus could see Cyclonus try to reach out and rake the Terran out of the sky, but she was two steps ahead, sweeping to one side and barrelling around to pepper his back with alternating bolts of flame, ice and void.

And she was actually hurting him, too!

“If I have to shoo these Decepticon bastards out of my city alone,” she called down to him, her voice thick with rage and defiance, “I’ll pull you back from whatever the hell your version of the Afterlife is, so I can send you back there myself!”

Galvatron looked up, seemingly in a kind of daze, but lucid enough for that moment to smirk at the Terran’s audacity.

It was all the time that Rodimus needed.

“Rrrrrrr…” Rodimus Prime lifted himself forward, taking the wound to the chest as he forced Galvatron back, and smashed into the Decepticon’s face with a powerful right hook.

Galvatron’s grip weakened, and Rodimus tore his still-pierced arm free, leaving a fresh gash in his chest as he expended his last reserves at tearing into his foe.

One punch rattled the armour on Galvatron’s shoulder. A knee to the chest shattered the transparent crimson plates in the hakai taitei’s abdomen. A stomp on the right thigh crumpled the skeletal structure beneath, bringing Galvatron to his knees, while a forceful downward elbow cracked into his back.

His energy almost spent, Rodimus Prime clamped onto one of the three horns protruding from Galvatron’s helmet, and reached over to grasp onto his head with the other.

“No…” Galvatron called out, “It… can’t… it can’t be…”

Rodimus had only three words.

“Yes, it is!”

With a bellowing roar, Rodimus expended the very last drops of energy, pulling upwards, straining the connections linking Galvatron’s head to his shoulders…

…until with a sickening lurch, they tore free completely.

Galvatron’s remaining chassis flopped forward, shaking involuntarily, as the head flew away out of Rodimus’ grasp, becoming buried in a pile of dust and debris.

But Rodimus could do no more.


He leaned away from his foe’s remains, tried to carry himself forward, but made it no further than the second step before he fell forward, his collapse arrested by the outstretched fingers of his hands on either side.

His last thought before losing consciousness was something which, had he the energy left for it, would have drawn a smile.

I guess she won’t have to kill me, after all.


And with that, his eyes faded, then all became darkness.


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


End of part 15.

Part 16


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


BGM: Steve Jablonsky - Optimus


My optics opened – or, at least, what seemed to be such – and I found myself surrounded by the kind of world I had never seen before.

Streams of data given shape and form, rainbows of light and shadow coursing over a surface of glistening ethereality, ghostly clouds hovering in an electric sky above me...

…and in all of this, I stand alone.

Yet, I know that I am in the midst of some kind of presence.


I looked around, and I saw a portal to one side, leading away to Primus knows where – and to another, I saw a kind of hollow frame hover in the air, forming a kind of holographic image within its spacious confines.


I turned to it, and it flickered to life.


On it, I saw images of a time long past – the story of a being who I immediately recognised as one who had played a pivotal role in my life.


I saw him at a data terminal, busying himself as an out-of-the-way records clerk, blissfully unaware of the great narrative that Fate would place him within.

I saw him at his investiture, as the power of the Matrix bathed him, turning him from mid-level functionary to reluctant commander in all too brief a transition.

I saw him rally his people, returning from an extended absence form his home world, reminding them of the credo of freedom and justice that he had come to embody for those under his command.

I saw him slumber (mostly) undisturbed in the bowels of the great Ark, its construction a kind of lost art to future generations – entombed on an alien world alongside the stasis-locked chassis of both his closest comrades and his mortal foes.

I saw him, re-formatted to suit the needs of an organic civilisation, leading the now-legendary group of ‘‘84s’ in a secret war to protect a bystanding species from the spectre of tyranny.

And then…

…I saw him fight his final battle.

His moment of triumph over Megatron, snatched away by the foolishness of a young, impulsive intruder.

His silence after descending with a sickening thud into the surface beneath him.

His final words, and moments, as he passed from this life into the embrace of the Allspark.


I couldn’t bear it – I wanted to turn away, to hide my shame and self-pity from the screen, as if to escape the judgement of whatever force had deigned to display this series of events to me.


But then, I saw something else… something more.


I saw a world upon which a revived Optimus stood, cheering as he ushered in a new era of liberty for an embattled people.

I saw a red comet of holy light race from the surface of a broken world, arms outstretched before it to unleash the power of the Matrix against the Chaos Bringer itself.

I saw a crimson fire truck park alongside a burning apartment block, dousing the flames diligently, as it and its often-estranged brother provided hope to the endangered humans within.

I saw a pact agreed in the shadow of a dark and terrible void, in which a familiar-looking leader joined forces with an impossibly wise and ancient Cybertronian, in a quest to seek the means by which a great balance of forces may be restored.

I saw a humble space bridge operator clear debris from a construction site in a far-off corner of the galaxy, alongside his loyal team – while wondering when he could get the chance to prove that being a hero could be in hi programming, after all.

And finally, I saw a metal-flanked comet streak from the heavens onto a world not overly unlike one he had come to know well… then saw a silver bio-mechanoid emerge from an enclosed body of water, scan the form of a nearby automotive vehicle, and stand before two humans who held the key to their world’s future.


Every one of them looked different to each other, and to the being I had known, but there was no mistaking who they all were.

They were Optimus Prime.


“Hello, old friend.”


I turned from the monitor, and out of the portal emerged the one who was addressing me.

As he stepped forth, it seemed as if clouds of images hovered over his chassis – as if distinct segments of each of the Optimus Primes shown upon the viewscreen flowed aside and blended with one another.

However, the images coalesced as he came closer, and formed together into one shape – the Earth-mode Optimus I had known, all too briefly.

“Optimus…” I said, trying to find the words I had hoped to express ever since that horrible moment in 2005, yet finding myself incapable of getting past even this one simple word.

Although his face plate obscured certain facial reactions, I could still tell that he was smiling, and relaxed, as he placed his hand upon my shoulder. “You have nothing you need to ask me for, Rodimus Prime.”

I was not quite ready to let my guilt go, however. “But… I did… I caused…”

“You did your duty as an Autobot soldier,” Optimus reassured me, kindly, yet firmly. “In your place, I would have done the same.”

He gestured to the electric vista around us with his free hand. “As for the rest… my time had come.”

“Other versions of you live on,” I pointed out, referring to the Primes I had seen on the monitor.

“Perhaps,” he answered, “but my time… has passed.”

“…” I didn’t know how to answer that.

I didn’t have to. “Yours is only just beginning, my friend.”

I looked to him, and saw the well of knowledge, experience and wisdom in his glowing blue optics – and the assuredness behind him, in what he saw of me.

He had faith in me.

So, perhaps, it wouldn’t be so bad to have a little faith in myself, too.

“In time, all things pass,” he added, “and your spark may, one day, find its home here – at which time I will be honoured to know of all of the things you will have done for our people, and for all life, in the world I have left behind.”

“Hopefully, later rather than sooner,” I tried to quip, at which he nodded and laughed.

“Ha ha, quite so! It’ll take time for you to be an old coot like me, anyway.” Even here, he had not lost that… for want of a better word, prime quality.

“So, I’ll be going back, then?” I wondered, looking at the portal. After what had happened on Earth, I didn’t expect to open my real optics again.

“Let’s just say,” Optimus answered, “that the universe is not quite done with you yet.”

At this, he offered his hand, and I shook it gladly.


I had been able to make peace with the past.


And now, I knew that I had to make the most of the future.


“Walk with the One, Rodimus Prime,” he told me.

“I will,” I affirmed.

“I know you will,” he said confidently.

As he let go, I wondered just how I was supposed to get back, anyway.

“Oh, two things,” Optimus asked me, suddenly.

“Sure,” I answered.

“Tell my brother that he should get on with believing in himself,” he told me, “the way I have always done, and always will.”

I could not have agreed more with that assessment. “Of course.”

I felt an odd drip on my hand, as I asked about the other matter, and noticed how bright everything was getting. “And the second?”

Optimus smiled behind the face-plate, and spoke the last words I heard from him, as he, and everything else here, vanished behind the light enveloping me.

“Try to think of something clever to say.”


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


BGM: Steve Jablonsky - No Sacrifice, No Victory


The battle was over.


With Galvatron’s fall, the combination of fear, duty and aggression which had driven the Decepticons onward collapsed in a heartbeat. Those who had not already been offlined or captured withdrew, vanishing from the skies above Fuyuki-shi almost as suddenly as they had arrived.

The Shinto district was in ruins, with broken buildings, gutted chasses, maimed bodies and cowering dust-caked survivors left in the wake of the tsunami of violence.

Now, slowly, people began to emerge from their hiding places, and while some were fearful to approach the aliens who remained – the ones who had fought and risked their own selves on their behalf – others carefully approached the still, silent form of the red-and-gold being who had so dramatically brought the invasion to a screeching halt.

None were brave enough to approach so close as to actually make contact with the being, however.

Except for one.


“No…” Rin sobbed, her palm pressed down upon Rodimus Prime’s outstretched right hand.

She had made it through, as had many others – but her mind was still numb to the thought of how many others had been slain in such a short time.

Despite this, she found that the life she was most concerned about was that of this brave, bright, foolish, charming, selfless, yet all-too-mortal… man, who was no less important to her now, no matter whether the flesh he wore was organic or bio-mechanical.

She didn’t care how selfish it may have seemed.

She didn’t want to lose him.

“Come back to me,” she sobbed, and a tear streaked down from her eye, landing on his hand below…


A ripple of energy, as if riding the crest of a wave formed by the dropping of a stone in a pool of water, spread around the point of contact, and faded out.

Then, a sound of pulsing energy reverberated around his bio-mechanical form, as his optic-lids opened, his fingers twitched slightly, and his optics glowed, then pulsed back to life.

He looked down at her astonished face… and smiled.


Rodimus lifted himself up, and looked out at the crowd of people who had been watching him, as well as noting the Autobots who were approaching on foot nearby.

He thought of Optimus Prime’s parting words, and tried not to shake his head wryly when thinking about it. So the old spark had one last card to flicker over the table, after all.

Still, the nest few moments would have nothing less than the weight of history upon them – and it was essential that he was up to the task.

A Prime should do no less.


And so, he stood, arms outstretched, as he spoke.

“People of the Earth, my name is Rodimus Prime.

I am of a species of sentient bio-mechanical life-forms from the planet Cybertron.

Though our forms and types of being are distinct, we of the Autobots -” he pointed to the red faction logo upon his chest as he said this – “hold firm to the principle that freedom…

…is the right of all sentient beings.

On behalf of my people, I grieve with you for all of those who have been lost to us on this day – and though no words of mine can un-do this tragedy, I hope that I can assure you that so long as even one of my kind stands, their loss will not be in vain.

And so, I offer to you on behalf of my people our friendship, support, protection, and partnership, for as long as you may wish for it…

…till the day when all are One.”


The crowd had initially been astonished to hear these words, but as he spoke, their expressions began to lift – seeing in the Autobot leader the promise of something they had abandoned in the face of the invasion…

…hope.

A few started at first, but soon the entire crowd was clapping and cheering, voicing and displaying their gratitude for the sacrifice made on their behalf, and demonstrating their acceptance of the offer made in the aftermath.

And thus, the formal first contact between two worlds was made.


But the day was not yet done, however.

A data upload was sent wirelessly, informing Rodimus that reinforcements had arrived to Earth from Cybertron, and that the Protectobots and others had already deployed to the city in order to carry out rescue efforts, and help plan for a reconstruction project for the city.

As he acknowledged this, two fast friends approached him, and bowed in greeting.

“We have realised a discrepancy, Rodimus Prime, and have come to a decision regarding it,” Star Saber spoke.

Victory Leo nodded in agreement. “Neither of us have formally signed up to the Autobots – but if you don’t mind…”

“Of course.” The two knelt, as Rodimus placed a hand each upon their shoulders. “Do you accept the duties and responsibilities of an Autobot soldier, to fulfil those to the best of your ability, and to stand proudly as guardians of freedom and justice?”

“Yes,” they spoke in unison.

“All I needed to hear,” Rodimus smiled, as he stood back and withdrew his hands. “Arise, Star Saber and Victory Leo, and welcome to the Autobots. Till All Are One!”

The two stood, as the auto-nanites within their forms brought forth fresh Autobot faction logos upon their chasses. “Till All Are One!”


A new chapter in the history of both peoples had been written – and, perhaps, future generations might look upon this day as the end of an era, the onset of a golden age, or perhaps as the sign of an era of bitter consequence.


But no matter which path the Fates had laid out, it was still up to those within to walk it.


And that journey…


…had only just begun.



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


End of Part 16.

Epilogue


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


BGM: Mute Math – Transformers Theme


The garage door opened, as the raven-haired woman stepped beneath the shutters and headed towards the flame-flanked vehicle parked within.

Said vehicle opened its door to let her in, and she slid into the seat and sat quietly as the door closed itself behind her.

As it shut, the engine revved, as the various monitors and lights activated on the dashboard, and the radio tuned in to a local station the woman had picked up an interest in listening to.

A few moments later, the shutter was up high enough, and so the vehicle changed gear and smoothly drove itself out into the driveway, and on to the road.


They had a lot to do that day.


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


Something was wrong.

Well, things had been wrong to the point of catastrophe for a while now, but not quite like this.

For one, the numbers of Decepticons who had made it this far back toward Chaar were relatively few – aside from the loss of Galvatron, other Decepticons had either fallen in battle, been detained, or otherwise unaccounted for.

No-one knew where Soundwave had gone off to, for example, and the unstable vortex in which Swindle and Onslaught had jumped into had led them to who knows where.

Plus, the Predacons had decided to abandon the group altogether, as if dismissing the rest of the Decepticons as surplus to their requirements, now that the cast-iron will of the one who had bound them to the cause was no longer present.

Essentially, Cyclonus was left with little more than Scourge, a number of Sweeps, and whoever was left on Chaar to rally for duty.

“So, now will you finally stop procrastinating, and actually take command of the Decepticons for a change?” Scourge was through with even the pretense of concealing his displeasure at the situation, that to his mind should have been resolved two years ago with Cyclonus stepping up to the plate.

It was just as well that Scourge could think of nothing less appealing than taking that trouble himself – he was content with commanding his Sweeps, and letting his brother deal with the lesser Decepticons – or things would have taken a far more violent turn by now.

“Enough!” Cyclonus’ mask of composure was cast to one side, his spark seething with anger and rage over what he had seen happen to Galvatron, a wound only deepened by the reality he could no longer ignore…

…that Galvatron’s reign had been a disaster for the Decepticons.

The worst part about what Scourge was saying stung his sense of duty the most – it really would have been better for them all had Cyclonus assumed command in the first place.


But now, he had no excuse not to.


Except that as he and the others landed on Chaar, he wondered just what it was he was supposed to be assuming command of.

Before him, overshadowing the fortifications, rested an immense structure – which, in and of itself, took on the form and dimensions of a new city.

He noted the ring of displacement which surrounded it, clear signs that this ‘city’ had somehow landed here of its own power.

“Are you not impressed?” a voice asked, and Cyclonus looked down towards the source of the question.

Two small beings stood on the central boarding ramp of the city, one in a cybernetic suit of black and silver, the other wearing a similar device in cream and purple.

It was the latter who had posed the question – and Cyclonus’ sensors were able to see past the façade of the suit and recognise the modified, though still organic, form within.


Nebulans, he sniffed.

“Explain yourself, flesh-creature!” Cyclonus demanded, in no mood to tolerate insolence from this jumped-up hybrid-organic.

“I have a name, Cyclonus,” the being responded. “If I can show you the courtesy of knowing yours, perhaps you could at least ask for mine in return?”

Scourge smirked, hoping that the fleshling would prove just annoying enough to let his brother command he rip it apart.

It was not quite there yet, but not far off, all the same. “You mean nothing to me.”

“I knew he wouldn’t listen,” a deep rumbling voice echoed through the city, form an unknown source.

At this, the Nebulan smiled. “Oh, we’ll see.”

At this, a bay door opened, and an unusual treaded vehicle with twin massive mechanical claws and an overhanging tail rolled out.

The black-and-silver one stepped to one side, as the other leaped up and landed on the roof of the vehicle’s cabin.

“Once, I was known simply as Lord Zarak,” the being spoke, as the vehicle it stood upon transformed into a fearsome bio-mechanoid – to which Zarak’s transformed suit attached as a head.

The rolling voice returned, this time emanating more closely. “And separately, we were more limited as life forms.”

The city began to shake violently, and Cyclonus looked up, the bitter realisation of how poor the situation was about to become beginning to dawn upon him.

“But together...”

Towers and driveways folded and re-formed, tunnels and walkways retracted, turrets adjusted and gigantic structures shifted into place…

“We... are more.”

…and Zarak’s bio-mech attached itself within the emerging head of the terrible creation which beheld the surface of Chaar.

And a new, combined voice boomed.

“We… are Scorponok!”


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


A sphere of un-natural flame raced through the folds of subspace, decaying and scarring the fabric of reality which lay upon its path.

Within, an ancient being simmered with barely-suppressed fury, trying to focus its mind away from the frustration at having its recent efforts thwarted, and towards the far more important matter of planning the end of this accursed universal stream.

I am the Avatar of Entropy.

I have a duty to the Unbinding.

A responsibility to upholding the promise of Bliss that the Great One seeks to offer the multiverse.

Yes…

It is only a matter of Time.

The sphere changed course, and the Fallen turned his efforts to seeking out the means by which the coming campaign may be waged.


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


Upon the lunar surface, the recent arrival to this reality noted the data which had come from Earth regarding the series of events which had so changed the local dynamic of Terran-Cybertronian relations.

There was a lot to consider, even with the added (stolen) processing power of the TransTech device the being had used to identify this universal stream in the first place.

Even so, it smirked as it came to its first conclusion.

I think I am going to do just nicely in this reality.


Stowing the device in a storage bay, the being then transformed, raced across the rim of the crater before banking up into the void, and vanished through a hyperspace portal.

It was time to get settled in.


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


“I’ll get it!”

Time had passed since the Day of Consequence, and this was the first time that the gang had managed to find just enough time to enjoy something of a get-together at the Emiya-tei.

Thankfully, while the existence of Cybertronians in general was now public knowledge, Pretender technology remained a closely-guarded secret – as had the aspects of events which could have compromised the long-standing secrecy of the Mage’s Association.

Not that it hadn’t been a close-run thing, in terms of keeping the latter especially under wraps… and the Clock Tower still had a few uncomfortable questions it intended to ask a certain raven-haired magus.

But they could wait.

“So, got anything interesting there, Rin?” Garret asked, as he leaned over to see the letter that Tohsaka was just finished reading.

She shrugged. “Meh, it’s another ‘invite’ from the Association. I’m sure they are eager to teach me all I need to know…”

“Pfft,” Garret snorted. “Stick with us, and before too long they’ll be the one begging for you to teach them all you know!”

“All that you don’t mind sharing, of course,” she pointed out.

He smiled. “Well, I’ll trust your discretion.”


Meanwhile, Shirou and Artia were chatting with Ilya – who really was starting to look taller.

“I’m gonna catch up with you, onii-chan, just you wait!” she giggled, as she winked over to Artia, “though I guess I’ll get to your level first…”

Artia responded with a well-placed tickle – her demeanour around the silver-haired girl softening considerably over the course of time they had spent together. “A lack of preparedness is still your enemy, Illyasviel!”

“Ha ha!” Shirou laughed, before joining in the tickle-fest.


Meanwhile, Professor Hawk got the door, and smiled to see the familiar face on the other side. “You look well, Étienne.”

“Merci beaucoup,” Étienne replied, nodding in reply before taking a step inside. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure how I’d…”

His voice faded as a certain person looked over and noticed his arrival.

“So, you must be Étienne – it’s a pleasure to meet you at last,” Garret offered, smiling, offering his hand.

It should have been easy to respond. Étienne had learned about the mix-up which left the commander with the same DNA as that he currently kept in trust, and in principle, it shouldn’t have been a problem.

After all, had the donor known, he would have been happy enough… and wasn’t it good to have his legacy borne by less a hero than the Protector himself?

It should have been fine…

…but Étienne knew that, for too many reasons to count, it really wasn’t.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, as he turned to leave. “I can’t… I can’t do this.”

Garret, who understood all too well, stepped back, and nodded. “I… understand.”

But while Étienne began to step away, a fresh voice carried itself through the air to him – one which was as soft as silk, but still had the power to reach him like no other.

“I have been waiting to meet you again, Autobot-san,” Sakura told him, as she stepped forth towards him.

As he found himself turning back towards the door – towards her – he lifted his head and wondered for a moment if his optics hadn’t deceived him back then.

However, with one look, he had his answer.

You really are the most beautiful woman in the universe.


Suddenly, sticking around didn’t seem like too bad an idea, after all.


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


In the interim between the landing of Galvatron’s severed head in a cloud of dust and debris, and the recovery of said item by the reclamation corps, two small, glowing spheres emerged momentarily from the frame, before vanishing into the ground.

Some time later, the spheres re-emerged and skimmed over the Pacific Ocean, moving silently over the waters as they headed upon their destination.

Or rather, one sphere seemed to be in the driving force, extending its control over the second as if cradling sensitive goods for transport.

Over an unmarked stretch of ocean, the spheres plunged downwards, and sped through the depths, the various marine creatures passed en route paying them no heed.

Eventually, the spheres approached the outer structure of an alien-constructed craft, submerged in the deep, yet still sealed within from the crushing pressure of the ocean beyond.

The lead sphere floated through the corridors and into a kind of experiment chamber, where it dropped the second sphere into a kind of cubic box before racing into a waiting chassis.

Its optics glowed, as power coursed through its long-dormant systems, and it stepped forth.

“Good to see your Spark made it this far, fearless leader,” the bio-mech spoke, fir the first time in this new body. “Now, be so kind as to not extinguish before I finish the transfer!”

Activating a series of panels and displays, the being set in motion a spark transfer process, which placed the second sphere into a ready and waiting Cybertronic form.

Once complete, the being tapped the form, looking to get its attention. “Did you enjoy your nap, vaunted one?”

“U… uh… YOU!” The voice coming from the object – a pistol scaled for use by a ‘regular’ Cybertronian – rasped in reply.

“Oh, come now, Megatron, is that any way to address an old friend such as myself?” the other being chortled.

The newly-awakened one stopped for a moment. “Wait… Megatron?”

It examined its current form, and the realisation hit home. Yes… I am no longer in the same form – this chassis is closer to my older self.

I am Megatron once again.


“It’s just as well,” the being offered. “Being in that Unicron-fashioned form was so… uncomfortable. No wonder you were going crazy in there.”

Crazy… Megatron had to admit that for the first time in… he couldn’t even remember… that he felt as lucid and sharp as he had been before striking that Faustian pact with the Chaos Bringer.

“But that voice…” There had been one other element to his discomfiture, however. That constant echo, the taunting voice, which sounded so much like his old self – but in the final moments of the battle with Rodimus, had dropped its façade and revealed its true intent.

“Unnnnh!” Megatron railed, as he tried to transform, but with little success. “What… what is this?”

“Oh, keep up, Megatron,” the being chided him. “Don’t you remember – the Nucleon Project?”

Nucleon… “Yes… it was meant to be a new form of energy,” Megatron replied, his memory starting to come back to him.

“I had hoped it would allows us to both replace Energon and gain the lead over the Autobots,” the scientist mind of the other being worked over the process, “but it had a troubling side-effect of not allowing a Cybertronian to transform.”

He lifted his hand up. “This chassis of mine is like that – stronger than the original, surely, but stuck as a bio-mech… albeit a stunningly magnificent specimen, if I do say so myself!”

It only took a moment for the realisation to sink in. If the being had trapped his bio-mech form using Nucleon, than that meant Megatron’s current gun mode was – “I’ll find a way out of this, and when that happens, I’ll make you pay for this!”

A maniacal laugh was the immediate reply. “Oh, I’m sure you will, but before then, I have plans for you, mighty Megatron.”

It lifted the gun out of its mount, and pointed it towards a target drone at the other end of the room. “You may not be in a position to pull the trigger yourself, but I assure you that I am more than willing and able.”

To demonstrate the point, he fired, and the force of the fusion cannon obliterated the target in one shot.

“You’ll help me re-gain mastery of the Decepticons, and watch from the ideal vantage point as my reign is forged in fire across the galaxy!”

“How dare you…” Megatron was fit to burst, but his captor had no mercy.

“Say it,” he said. “Say my name, and let the walls shake with its echo!”

With this, at least, Megatron found himself obliging his treacherous once-lieutenant.

“Your fate is already sealed…

…STAAAAAR…SCREEEEEEEEAM!”


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


This story will continue in Fate/Trans Form: The Era of Consequence.

One last update, before the follow-up - another entry in an IDW forum writing comp.


The Call of Fate

“H’trorren to Audentes – I think I’ve found another one.”

The green-and-white interceptor craft’s most recent mission was a grim one – combing the debris left behind by the wreckage of a number of allied starships, as well as that left in the wake of the destruction of Unicron’s main body, in search of survivors.

His ship, the Audentes, had dis-engaged its transwarp drive and emerged near Cybertron too late to play a role in the battle, but arrived just in time to see the Entropic monster’s destruction at the hands of the Matrix…

…a sight none on board would ever forget.

So far, a number of high-profile individuals had already been rescued – H’trorren himself had been present when Ultra Magnus was recovered and brought on board.

However, while most were recovered without incident, such was not so for the monstrous stasis-locked being H’trorren now uncovered...


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


“How are you doing, H’trorren?” asked the Audentes’ commanding officer – an Autobot of no small renown himself.

H’trorren, for his part, was slouched forward slightly, his fingertips resting on the edge of a circular interface. Upon it currently showed a three-dimensional holo-image of the Milky Way galaxy.

He looked across to his commander, and sighed – knowing that in an off-duty time like this, Countdown had little use for the usual protocols. “I’ve been getting close to a decision, sir.”

“I was thinking as much,” Countdown answered, as he stepped to another side of the interface, and looked up.

“I’ve seen my fair share out there, lad,” he added, as he looked at the image before him. “Yet, even so… I have never seen the likes of this.”

It was as if Countdown himself was as much trying to come to terms with the advent of Unicron as any other who had, in one way or another, made it through the experience.

H’trorren kept thinking of one particular aspect of this whole event, however. “I guess I was as shocked as anyone when we first arrived – but it wasn’t until I saw him that I found myself… asking the kind of questions that, well… I just can’t ignore.”

Countdown remembered the moment vividly. There was something so… haunting about seeing the prone form of Galvatron up close. Even in its stasis-locked form, it un-nerved those around him to an extent that even Megatron himself had not done.

Thankfully, Magnus and Rodimus Prime had been quick to see to the fallen Decepticon commander’s incarceration on Cybertron, and the crew of the Audentes would not have to worry about the prospect of that… thing re-awakening and ripping them all to shreds in moments.

“I’ve been proud to serve alongside you, Countdown,” H’trorren acknowledged, “and been grateful for the role I’ve been able to play in my time aboard Audentes…”

He turned to Countdown, his expression showing that he had reached his decision. “…but I feel it’s time to move on.”

Countdown took a moment to consider this, and then nodded. “I understand.”

At this, the chest module of Countdown’s larger trans-tector chassis opened. The smaller Micromaster form detached from its slot within, transformed, and saluted. “Audentes won’t be the same without you, H’trorren.”

“Thank you, sir,” H'trorren replied, then saluted in return.

“So,” Countdown gestured to the map, “do you have somewhere you want to move on to?”

“Actually,” H’trorren smiled, as he adjusted the display in order to focus on a certain neighbouring star system, “I always wanted to try this place.”

Countdown gave a lop-sided grin, as he pulled out a pocket datapad. “In that case…

…I think I know just the man to talk to.”