Passion

The history of Cybertron is marred with the scars of war. Tapestries of conflict unfurl from the planet's weary memory.

Legends were written. Myths were given life. The most noble of sacrifices gave birth to great victories.

And sometimes, even a fleeting generation of peace and evolution came to fruition.

However, it was during one such transitionary period that the civilization the cosmos would name "The Transformers"...was nearly dropped into the abyss of extinction.

This was not a tale of glory, or war.

This was a story of Passion.

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"This is not meant to be a sacrifice, nor is it a downgrade."

The green robot walked towards the screen, his voice filled with the soothing charisma of a trained politician.

"No, my friends. It is an evolutionary step in the history of our race. Sign up for the Maximal Reformatting immediately, and-"

With a brief hiss of static, the channel changed.

"Do you need a little R&R? Maybe some time away from home?"

Staged shots of a white shuttle attempted to fill potential viewers with a sense of adventure.

"Then come down to Galaxy Shuttle Travel Agency, and let us show you the true -edge-...of the universe!"

The elaborate logo completed half of its flashy animation before it, and all other current broadcasts were abruptly halted.

A blue newscaster sat calmly at his desk.

"We interrupt all TeleVid programming with this urgent bulletin. Several cycles ago, the GM Rehabilitation Facility was taken over by an unknown terrorist faction. No demands have been made, but the New Iacon Militia has already been called to attention."

The image's quality fluttered, slightly.

"Do not leave your quarters. Repeat: Do not leave your qua-"

All vidscreens across Cybertron slammed into darkness. Then, in the centre of the broadcast, a symbol appeared. A red oval, pierced down the center by a dark line, and crowned by a pair of dark horns.

A cold voice spoke.

"Denizens of Cybertron...do not attempt to block this signal. The following transmission is being broadcast over all known communication wavelengths."

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The gleaming towers of New Iacon stood tall and proud, as crowds of commuters milled about beneath them.

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"Your planet has become a nigh-utopia of peace and harmony. The Great Wars have concluded, and all remnants of the former 'terrible enemy' have degraded into roving mobs of slag."

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In a dark alleyway, a hunched figure watched the pirated airwaves on a small, half-functional vidbox. Shrouded in shadows, his crimson optic visor burned in the darkness.

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"Life is bereft of conflict and warfare. But...such rewards came upon you...at a price."

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Pedestrian traffic slowed and halted as more confused onlookers gathered around public vidscreens on the streets of New Iacon.

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"All great things are heralded by sacrifice. And that which you owe your lackluster lives to...is one of the greatest injustices of our planet's time."

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Treads and wheels ground against metallic panels as the New Iacon Militia speeded towards the GM Rehabilitation Facility. A dark, crimson glow radiated from its location, giving the horizon a malevolent tint.

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"We, the victims of your desire for peace, have risen from the grave you consigned us to."

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The speaker lowered his head slightly, glaring at the growing specks in the distance. He knew the enemy's reinforcements were sparse cycles away.

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"We have risen to show you the price of your naivety."

The transmission ended.

Dramatized Excerpt

Vocals + Mixing - Myself
Music - Shini (Divine Will) from the Casshern OST

Dude, that Dramatized Excerpt is AWESOME.

Check out Grimlock_13's Attempt at Funnies if you dare! (Updated 11/06/09 with Comic #525!!)

Nice. The dramatized exerpt is a really cool addition. Are you going to write more? This feel like a prologue to a link between G1 and BW story. Are we going to find out more about the identity of the speaker? Even if you don't write any more the mutimedia angle gives the story something really different. Good work.

"C'mon! You'll never get into the academy at this rate."

"You're one to talk!"

The two Cybertronians, one blue and one orange, sprinted across the bridge, engaged in the thrill of friendly competition. The blue one's servos gave out a small whine as they pushed the limits of their exertion.

"Hh...come...on...!"

Neck and neck, the pair drew nearer to their imaginary finish-line. Then, with one final burst, the orange one dove across the finish line, as his blue friend tumbled across the ground, her servos finally giving up.

"Hahaa!"

"Khh...you ever hear of a sore -winner-?"

"Aw, get over it and let me celebrate."

The blue one got to her feet, glowering slightly.

"You know, if this were the real thing-"

"Alright, already! Primus, you'd think there was another Great War on the horizon. It's peace-time! Live a little!"

"We race across half of Old Iacon without alt-modes and he tells me to-...hey..."

The orange one had reached for his forehead. The blue one thought it was nothing, but her friend had stopped moving. She slowly approached, reaching a hand forward.

"Krion...?"

Suddenly, several bright sparks shot out of the orange one's left temple.

"Hgh-AAAAAGHK-..."

Slowly, his hand lowered away from his face. A tiny scorchmark marred the metal above one of his eyes.

His fearful eyes.

"Krion, what-"

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"Commander Draykon!"

Snapping out of her dream, the deep-blue tank at the head of the squadron came to a halt. Her three crimson subordinates followed suit.

"Ma'am, are you alright? We've arrived at the coordinates of that pirate broadcast-"

"I'm fine. Everyone, we move on foot from here."

A unison of affirmatives made Draykon relax, slightly. She remembered where she was. When she was.

With a sound known throughout the galaxy, New Iacon Militia Sub-Commander Draykon transformed into robot mode, along with the trio under her command. The quickly moved towards the grim spires of the GD Rehabilitation Facility.

Flames grew in intensity as they drew nearer. The four militants found it somewhat relieving to see that the cause of the sinister glow that had been haunting their optics for the last few cycles was nothing more than heat and oxydization. However, it was not long before idle chatter began.

"Hey, Ledge...this place gives me the creeps, man."

"Thanks, Zepp. Thanks. That really helps."

"Ah, calm down, you minibots. This is just some medical research whatever."

"That's not what I heard. I heard this is where they throw all the crazies. You know...plasma-guzzlers, chaos cultists, Punch-Counterpunch. Man, if I see -him- I swear I'm outta here-"

Draykon's voice cut into the mounting tension like a metallikato blade.

"This is the GD Rehabilitation Facility. People with GD get sent here to be fixed."

The silence was brief, but soon fell away.

"You mean locked up 'til their mental circuits incinerate..."

"At least they're cutting them out of the Spark-pool before Maximal reformats become standard-"

"Where'd you hear that? I sure as the Pit aren't downsizing to fleshling scale."

"Company, halt," commanded Draykon.

The trio behind her came to a halt, and looked around.

"Weren't we supposed to have back-up?"

"Look up," she replied.

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The main entrance of the GD Rehabilitation Facility was demolished. In front of it, behind several makeshift barricades, were two squads of New Iacon Militiabots.

Their commander, a slightly weedy-looking Cybertronian, stood with practiced authority, holding an amplifier in front of his mouth.

"Attention, terrorist faction!" he bellowed. "Come out, with all tactile appendages in the air! Any of you so much as shift a panel, and we -will- open fire!"

Nodding to himself, he turned around, and nearly walked straight into Draykon.

"Sub-commander!" he sputtered. "What on Earth are you doing here? I -have- this under control."

"HQ wanted to send back-up, especially considering how well you dealt with your -last- major emergency."

His optics narrowed slightly, as he glanced to the side.

"The light was not very good-"

"You thought Bruticus had been reanimated."

"It is a very likely possibility that-"

"We've -all- seen what Bruticus looks like now. You've been getting far too deep in that Earth culture slag."

"Listen," he hissed. "You and your three stooges can take up a rearguard position. I will -not- have you stealing my credit again, understand?"

"Clear as crystal, Soran. Try not to crack one of your vocalizers if they storm out of there dressed like Predaking."

Draykon's men snickered in ensemble as they and their commander left the immediate scene.

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Soran quietly turned back to the GD Rehabilitation Facility's entrance, and raised the amplifier.

"You have ten cycles to show yourselves, terrorists! Surrender, or prepare to meet your maker!"

"Arrogant."

Soran and his squad all looked up at the source of the cold voice that had just spoken.

"Arrogant puppets, all of them."

Atop the main spire of the GD Rehabilitation Facility stood three shadowed figures. The one in the centre stepped forward, as he continued to speak.

"This day marks the beginning of a new crusade. A quest of justice and vengeance."

His grey-toned body was unimpressive, at a glance. Large metal plates hung from his shoulders like a cloak, concealing his chest and upper arms. On one forearm, a large cannon had been haphazardly grafted.

"For all those that have been wronged by a society not fit for its own ill-gotten rewards..."

Over one eye, a large monocle flared with crimson light. Over it, lay a thin strip of metal, dividing the circle in half.

"Pheye has declared war."

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The gates of the GD Rehabilitation Facility blew open as white-shelled robots poured out. Their three-pronged control helmets fizzled and sparked as they madly rushed towards Soran's squad.

"My god..." he uttered, as his mouth gaped slightly. "He...he released the inmates..."

Soran pointed at the oncoming horde.

"He released the inmates!! Open fire!! NOW!!"

A torrent of laser fire cut into the mob of GD-afflicted Cybertronians. Many fell immediately, but some pushed forward despite grievous injury.

Pheye glanced at the two shadowed figures behind him. One was lean, and the other was a giant.

"Prepare to shift. First, I will make an example of these puppets."

With that, he leapt from his perch, landing amongst the throng of inmates. They peeled around him, keeping their distance.

"That fool," sneered Soran. "He's giving us a clear shot! Focus fire on the leader, men! Let's end this -now-."

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Draykon watched the firefight with slight disgust. Behind her, her men were sitting on a long-unused staircase, clearly bored out of their sparks.

"See the game, last night?"

The orator had leapt straight into the front lines. Draykon watched as he slowly raised the cannon that was attached to his arm.

"Yeah. I think that Overhaul guy is on some serious plasma, you ask me."

Soran's men had focused their firepower on him. The combined laser blasts cleaved through all the inmates that had tried to form a body-shield around their leader.

"Man, Ledge, everyone knows he's really Brawn."

Draykon frowned, slightly. The multi-colored blasts of energy were not hitting home. They seemed to be bending away from the inmate leader's weapon.

"...Brawn's dead, Zepp."

Within nanocycles, the reflected blasts were changing course again. The cannon seemed to be absorbing them, along with the rest of the continued laser fire.

The cannon began to glow.

Draykon's eyes widened.

"Man, they only -say- he's dead. I've got these dataweb sites bookmarked that- Hey! Where's the bosslady going?"

"Who knows. Probably gonna beat up that weed of a commander Squad C has, up there."

"Should we follow?"

"Nah. We got orders."

"Right. Rearguard."

"So. On the topic of the dataweb...check out these Nightbird II prototype pics I found."

"...whoa."

"Please tell me they're gonna leave the chestplate off, like that."

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Draykon raced towards the scene of the battle, hoping she was not too late.

She could hear the increasingly-high-pitched whine of the inmate leader's cannon as she approached the rearmost squad.

"Hold your fire! HOLD YOUR FIRE!!"

The two militants of Squad C let go of the triggers of their weapons and glanced back, somewhat confused. Draykon was soon in front of them, shouting at Soran.

"SORAN!! STOP SHOOTING AND TAKE COVER!!"

The head of Squad C looked over his shoulder, clearly irritated.

"I thought I told you to rearguard!"

"Tell your men to take cover, NOW!!"

"Heh. I thought you would be above this kind of petty-"

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Pheye's monocle lit up.

"Justice."

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An enormous burst of energy rocketed forth from the inmate leader's arm cannon. It ripped through the two frontmost militants in nanoclicks, shredding their bodies into oblivion. Soran turned as he heard their muffled cries, just in time to see his end bearing down upon him. His optics widened as he took half a step back.

"Wait-"

Draykon grabbed the two militants beside her and dove to the ground.

"Waa-AAAAIIEEEEEEE--**"

Soran shrieked as his gloss-coated finish incinerated off his body. His wail increased in volume, then suddenly stopped, as his outer plating and circuitry was sheared away. He was silent as his skeletal servos melted into a puddle of molten alloy.

Suffice to say, the rest of his squad fared only slightly better.

Their cries of agony were not quite as terrified.

The only two survivors, along with Draykon, stared up from the ground. A wave of rippling energy passed over them, the heat causing static in their optic feedback.

As the blast subsided, Draykon clambered out of the now half-melted barricade that saved her life. She glared up at the inmate leader.

His expression was grim, and devoid of emotion.

"He doesn't care..."

Draykon reached down, picking up one of the two Squad C survivors' rifles. They were of no help, as they were still working on standing up.

"That weapon's got to be out of power! Get a clear shot and-"

Her words were cut off by a loud crash, as the giant shadow leapt from the main spire of the GD Rehabilitation Facility and landed with a shockwave of impact in front of his leader. Draykon ducked back under cover, peering over the molten edge of the barricade.

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"MonoBlast," Pheye commanded, looking up at the titanic robot. "Shift our new home."

A booming voice emanted from the shadowed behemoth.

"For the end of days, my liege."

The massive robot's right arm lifted, unfolding into an enormous weapon. It plunged the tip into the ground, and the entire facility began to shake and shudder.

Pheye looked at the burning Cybertronian corpses he had left in his wake, as he and the GD Rehabilitation Facility began to shimmer with light.

"I despise arrogance," he muttered.

With an enormous flash, the facility, its inmates, and the trio that led them all vanished.

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"Draykon to HQ. Drakon to HQ. Can anyone read me?"

The two survivors of Squad C were both sitting on their own, quietly overcome with shock. Draykon's men kept their eyes on them.

"What in the Pit could've caused all this..."

"It's just like the Sentinel revolt, back in-"

"Subcommander Draykon, this is HQ," buzzed her communicator. "Report status, please. We detected a large energy surge in your area."

"Squad C was wiped out, sir. Only two survivors. Subcommander Soran is dead."

"...please repeat, Draykon, we're not sure we-"

"The GD Rehab Facility, along with the terrorists responsible for Squad C's murder, all teleported out, somehow. They had a large chaos cultist operating the device."

"That's impossible. We didn't detect any Spacebridge activity, and the Skywarp technology is strictly under our jurisdiction, now."

"Only telling you what I saw, sir. Any orders?"

"Wait there until our forensics crew arrive. Return with them once they're through, and then report in for debriefing."

"Roger that, sir."

"HQ out."

Draykon clicked off her communicator, and looked at the grisly scene that remained.

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Why the GD patients? What could that slag-sucking bastard want with our doomed?

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"This just ain't right, Ledge..."

"I know, man. War's supposed to be over."

"Bots aren't supposed to die like this. Not anymore..."

There was a brief silence.

"Brawn coulda taken it."

"Ah, shut up about Brawn, already-"

"I'm serious! Everyone knew he was faking it when he 'allegedly' died in that shuttle explosion over on Earth..."

Thanks! It's something I've been doing with my City of Heroes stories over the last year and a half.

I'm planning to sporadically update this, as I get the creative twinge. I have had lots of this story in my head for years, so it tends to pour out in bursts.

You're sorta right on the setting, incidentally. And thanks for the compliments!

I like this, it should be interesting to keep an eye on. Though um, what's "GD" stand for?

Vang you are teh man. TEH.

Finally read part two. Brawn lives! Or does he? But he sure does look like Overhaul. I never noticed that before.

I like Draykon. She seems a capable commander. And Zepp & Liege provide some good comic relief in what could become a dark and violent fic (not that there's anything wrong with dark and violent), just that those two provided a really nice contrast to the slaughter going on around them.

Normally I'm wary of fics with so many OCCs. But your multimedia got me really intrigued and now I begin to see why people like to use OCCs. It allows for further exploration of the TF universe and society beyond the normal Bots and Cons. The TFs really are a great sci-fi concept. How would a robotic society not built by humans opperate? I really like how your fanfic is giving us a slice of that beyond the norm. It's fascinating. Keep up the good work. And I hope inspiration strikes enough that you continue this story.

What does it stand for indeed!

Internet Police ETARNAL

Hehe, I always tend to like interspersing comedy into dark and violent bits. Habit of mine, and I feel it makes things less uncomfortable.

Those are big reasons for my using OCCs, yep. *nods* I also just don't trust myself to write for existing characters...I would very likely end up having them do OOC things based on the attributes I tend to give my own creations. >.>

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Well, I'm currently on a Eurotrip, and getting lotsa writing inspiration. Hopefully I'll have the next part of this done up sometime soon.

Thanks for the support so far, all!