Transformers: Asterisk - Destiny

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

  1. Dinobot Nuva

    Dinobot Nuva Johnny 3 Tears Veteran

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    Awesome chapter Falcy! Can't wait to read more :D 
    Wonder if there's sparks in the mechs...or if they're somewhere else in the facility.
    DN
     
  2. Falcadore

    Falcadore Touring Car Autobot

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    Happy new year folks.

    Chapter 12 - Altercation

    "Control, Agent Six. Autobots engaged. There are six of them. We have the firepower to suppress them."

    "Agent Six, do not engage them close quarters, they will have better control of the frames."

    "Negative Control, ambush the best way. Agent Seven reports two of them heading towards the power station."

    "All stations: signal for evacuation of all non-essential staff. Begin activation of Delta Units for protection of power generation systems. Fuel ememrgency Watchtower evacuation."

    "Control, Delta Units are not yet proven to be reliable."

    "Irrelevant Agent Six you will buy the time for evacuation to proceed, sacrifice all units of neccesary.


    Unnamed Mountain
    Rocky Mountain Range, Colorado


    Smokescreen watched in horror as the enemies hand came face up on the table, revealing the nine figures. Sideswipe and Grimlock were busy facing two foes while Silverstreak was at the point of being overwhelmed, his peaceful instincts over-ridden as the Bluestreak of old was suddenly, forcibly brought back to the surface. Tracks was winning the fight with his single foe, while Dead End was almost blubbering with fear retreating from the spectre. A twitch of the rally pod in the Decepticons revealing the shape of the foe he was fighting, the shape of the much loved fallen leader.

    "Oh Optimus, that's not fair. No skifters like that please." Smokescreen, momentarily left alone by the fighting had time to bring his rifle to bear and brought it up to sight at Silverstreak's fight. A flash of star bright energy and the blue version of Prowl staggered backwards, giving the silver Subaru time to push the silver Prowl backwards, falling backwards over its wounded twin with a crash.

    "Autobots! To me! To me!" Silversteak fought his way backwards, pushing hard at the yellow Viper frame which had become visible lurching towards Sideswipe.

    "Leave Sunstreaker be," growled Sideswipe at Silverstreak, not taking his optics away from the orange Hound frame which was trying to bring its pistol to bear on Sideswipe. "Go help Grimlock." Smokescreen fired again, hitting the black and with Subaru frame, perilously close to Grimlock. Smashing the black Subaru to one side with a heavy right cross gave the Mustang some space. Silverstreak grabbed Grimlock by one arm and started to drag the former Dinobot backwards.

    "Grimlock, Sideswipe get back here, defensive position, Tracks how are you?"

    "No problem," Tracks got a hand free to raise his own sub-rifle. Smokescreen turned back towards Dead End. The Decepticon was in full retreat before the aparition of ages past. Smokescreen paused. That is not Optimus. Optimus died. Here on Earth, heroically giving his all. Nonetheless Smokescreen still asked Primus to forgive him. The shot took the figure in red in the chest, throwing it back on the ground. With more and more guns in evidence the two sides began to draw away from each other, sniping from behind machinery, except for Tracks, gamely fighting on against an opponent he frequently could not see.

    "Tracks! Get out of there!" Smokescreen turned to the others. "At my command, fire on the empty space around Tracks." Sideswipe raised his sub-rifle at Smokescreen's command. Grimlock tore himself free of Silverstreak's grasp as they neared Smokescreen's position. In one smoothe motion Grimlock produced his sword hilt and the Energo sword glowed to life and swung in Tracks direction. Tracks distracted for moment, his head and one missile rack tracked in the direction of the sword as it swung out and loped off a forearm that suddenly gained visibility, followed by the rest of the unfamiliar frame.

    "Or, you could do that," admitted Smokescreen. "Get back here! Sideswipe covering fire!"

    "Me Grimlock tired of not-real Autobots." Grimlock looked more focussed than at any time in the last few months. But before Grimlock could say anything else, Wheeljack's voice burst across the frequency.

    "Don't kill them. They're..."




    As the passageway descended it gradually became lighter. Wheeljack was not comfortable. Ravage's bee had reported some findings indicating the possibility of sparks down this passage and then after producing, the only way Wheeljack could describe it was an excited outburst, the bee had gone silent. To catch the agile bee meant something down here was worth investigating. In the distance the sound of hydraulics started up and immediately began fading, although the noise was constant, as if something was travelling away. The tunnel started to flar out into a chamber that was well lit. The majority of the chamber appeared to be beyond a sharp corner in the widening tunnel. Wheeljack extinguished his headlights, followed shortly by Jazz' lights behind him.

    Wheeljack edge around the corner. There was no-one about. The bee had reported the presence of humans, but they were gone now. Wheeljack could hear a low sound right on the threshhold of audibility. The wall disappeared on the left side apart form a human sized barrier.

    "There ain't no cat about," Jazz pronounced. The familiar sound of transformation occurred and Jazz stood walking past and over Wheeljack. Once clear Wheeljack followed suit. "There's a nuclear reactor down here." Jazz had glanced of over the edge, spotting equipment familiar enough from the contact with humans. Wheeljack glanced down. It was obviously incomplete and defunct, showing similar signs of age and decay as the outside of the facility had. Some of the control panels away from the reactor showed life however.

    Wheeljack stared around him. The panel work of the corridors around the power generation chamber were metallic but they did not look constructed. Lines flowed into one another in graceful, but unsymmetrical curves. It looked like something that had been grown, then plated over. More likely it had been extruded in liquid form then cooled, or solidified depending on how the molten state was maintained. Jazz had turned to examine an alcove large enough to house himself.

    "Lotsa loose cables here, big ones too. Why is that?" Jazz mumbled to himself.

    Turning a corner Wheeljack looked into the next alcove finding an object jutting from the wall. He heard a gasp, never realising it was his own. A large yellow angular foot stuck from the wall at upper torso level, stretching upwards were thick square yellow and black legs. A trapezoidal torso, again themed yellow but with several clear panels and a pair of black and yellow arms with yellow fists and contrasting red shoulders.

    A large domed black helmet rose from the shoulders with two large yellow tinged vents each side and a faded silver fluting from behind against a silver face. It was instantly familiar.

    "Jazz..."

    "I know. We'd better get Sideswipe down here. Is Sunstreaker functional?"

    "I... I am not sure." This was not the yellow Binaltech figure the others had encountered. This was the frame Sunstreaker had worn during the Terran Wars, the bright yellow Lamborghini Countach that had been such a source of pride for the braggart. The frame was pitted and scarred, while holes and rents recurring regularly on his devastated frame left unrepaired after the brutal assault of Menasor. His chest was compromised and the spark chamber was absent. There was energon moving through his frame, but no sign of a spark or any intelligence behind the dull blue eyes. Wheeljack looked beyond to see another figure welded into the wall.

    "Dear Primus Jazz, there's more of them. The small blue faced figure of the aristocratic Mirage slumped insofar as he could while being apparently part of the wall. Beyond was a figure Wheeljack found vaguely familiar. Jazz' visor turned suddenly on sight of it and Wheeljack suddenly recalled a dark figure of the Porsche influenced frame Jazz once wore. Beyond Ricochet, was the white and red figure of Red Alert and then over-tall figure of Blaster, his long grey legs dangling free of the wall, reaching almost to the floor.

    "Grimlock! Don't kill them. They're Autobots. They are our guys! Frak! I'm being jammed."

    "All this time, they've been alive," muttered Jazz. "Did you get through?"

    "I don't know. We'll have to leave them here, we can't rescue them all. Probably not even one of them." Wheeljack was torn. So many friends thought lost. Some on Cybertron, some from Ultra Magnus shuttle.

    "Prime!" Something about Jazz' whispered epithet got through Wheeljack's reverie and he moved quickly to join his long time friend, moving past the gentle groaning figure of the Thottlebot Rollbar, expecting the see the flame motif figure of Rodimus Prime stuck in this metallic prison. He found Jazz staring upwards from his knees. Looking up Wheeljack too gasped. Seemingly melted into the ceiling work, pipes and cables reaching from every limb and melting flush into the ceiling was a familiar red torsoed figure. The legs and helmet were not streamlined shades of orange and yellow however, but blocky and blue.

    "It can't be!" Nevertheless Wheeljack's sensors reported what the analytical part of his mind rejected. The figure, hovering like the others between life and death was a myth, a legend, a commander and a friend.

    "How?" Wheeljack had no answer for Jazz' question. But there was one thing Wheeljack was certain of.

    It was Optimus Prime.



    Dead End fired again back in the direction he had come from sensing movement beyond an abandoned drill tank. Grimlock was back in command now, directing fire, accurately and well. It seemed giving the Dinobot something he could focus all of his energies on

    Beware Grimlock. He will be rid of you if he can find the excuse.

    The ongoing battle gave Dead End the excuse to ignore Menasors ravings. The nagging doubt though remained.

    "Need secondary fire position. We get pinned here."

    "I'll go."

    "Bent feet you not run good. Wheeljack say Dead End better armour. He go, Silverstreak support."

    "What?" Dead End was suddenly fearful of this development. More than he thought he would be. He also saw the next protected position. The amount of fire about he knew he wasn't fast enough.

    SEE! He will have you killed. US killed!

    "Grimlock, I can't make it across there and Optimus Prime is..."

    "It is NOT Optimus Prime," Grimlock's anger was almost a physical force. "Dead End press attack now!"

    "No I will not Grimlock. This is madness." Dead End felt his hackles rising at the situation. No-one was listening to him. Grimlock turned and looked across at Dead End, anger emanating from the former Dinobot, despite the impassiveness of his features.

    "Move Decepticon butt," cried the Dinobot, the full force of his righteous anger behind his words. And there it was. Decepticon. For all of Grimlock's protestations of friendship, he was an Autobot hard-liner to the core. Dead End knew exactly how Grimlock felt towards humans, was it that much of a step towards rekindling old feelings of hatred towards Decepticons? Menasor was right. They were out to get him. He was cannon fodder to be sacrificed in a tight corner for their survival. Menasor had been right all along.

    Something partially dormant within Dead End exulted. It was not any repressed form of Dead End's former personality. It was not even Menasor. It was a third presence skulking at the back of Dead End's mind. First Menasor's remnant had to be overcome, but that was comparatively easy next to the fully active mind of Dead End. Gradually over the months and weeks he had chipped away at Dead End's personality and confidence. Increasing his paranoia, and hiding behind the identity of Menasor, he woke the former Stunticon early from rest cycles, increasing fatigue and wearing him down. Chipping away until Dead End acknowledged him and accepted him. Logic gates opened and a dormant intelligence flooded across Dead End's higher functions, burning and over-writing, destroying the Stunticon trying to find a new life away from the sub-servitude of Decepticon soldiery.

    An unknown power from unknown origins flooded through Dead End's systems and the being within laughed to himself. At last he was free. Free from the imprisonment of the dullard he had tried so hard to erase. Free to feel the corporeal form once more. And free to gain his revenge on this small force of Autobot fools.

    Grimlock turned far too late as Dead End raised his sub-rifle and shot the former Dinobot. With everyone else pointing down range at the not-familiar figures they found themselves suddenly covered by their comrade.

    "What are you doing Dead End?" yelled Smokescreen, his head moving constantly, searching for some method of distraction to try and assemble a retreat of some kind. Dead End's eyes had turned dark and red and actually smouldered.

    "Dead End no longer controls this frame," said a suddenly deepened, multilayered and multifaceted voice that some of the Autobots found shockingly familiar. Grimlock, turning to look from his prone position on the floor felt rather than saw as his sub-rifle fell from a nerveless grasp in astonishment as the silver highlights on the dark figure shifted and became a venomous bright yellow. Sideswipe's eyes blazed.

    "You bastrds," he roared, hauling his sub-rifle away from his target towards this new manifestation. "This is why. You wouldn't let me kill him and we left the gate open."

    "For who? For Menasor?" Silverstreak did not have the familiarity the others did. Dead End straightened his posture and spread his legs slightly, standing on the edge of his feet momentarily until he lifted off the ground, eventually hovering the height of a human above the ground. The sub rifle fell forgotten from an outstretched hand, surplus to requirements. Energon leaked and sparked from those two dark red eyes and sparks leapt and danced between spread fingers. Sideswipe spoke again, his own voice dropping an octave but filled nonetheless with a determination not to fall before the demoniacally altered Decepticon, the darkened vision of his lost brother, a loss still keen despite the years that now separated them.

    "It's Decepticharge."
     
  3. Rotorstorm

    Rotorstorm Wreck n’ rule

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    really getting going now
     
  4. Dinobot Nuva

    Dinobot Nuva Johnny 3 Tears Veteran

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    'Nuter nice chapter Falcy! Loved it, another cliffhanger aside, Happy New Year to you too!
    DN
     
  5. Crimson87

    Crimson87 Senior Member

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    I gave up on this ever being updated. In fact I hadn't thought about it for months. It was shear morbid curiousity that brought me back.

    Good story as usual. I hope that you can continue with it. I kinda feel bad about reading it because I get so into it and then it stops and I have to wait. I know genius/inspiration can't be rushed, but I really hate cliffhangers with long waits. Especially, with waits in unknown time.

    I hope when It's all finished you find a format to do it all uninterrupted.
    Keep up the good work. I'll be here reading.
     
  6. Falcadore

    Falcadore Touring Car Autobot

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    My apologies Crimson, I had a health crisis which brought upon depression, both of which had to be dealt with to get the creative juices flowing again. Then get A Tale Annew moving as well...
     
  7. RHansen

    RHansen Sir. Ranbotnic Veteran

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    Hey man, health comes first :D , I'm just glad you're alright!
     
  8. Crimson87

    Crimson87 Senior Member

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    Oh damn, Sorry man. I know what your talking about. Believe me I do. I have on and off problems with depression to. The best thing I can say is that Exercise helps a LOT!

    Sorry if I sounded snappy. Perhaps I was; but when you read a story that is this good, it start to become like crack.

    NEED MY FIX.....
     
  9. Falcadore

    Falcadore Touring Car Autobot

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    Chapter 13 - Activation

    "Control, Agent Six. The Autobots have surrendered."

    "Agent Six, explain details."

    "Control, one of their number has betrayed them to us and wants a new frame for himself in exchange."

    "Are we in a position to execute it?"

    "Negative Control. The frame... we had believed it to be Dead End but is now calling itself Decepticharge, is exhibiting Supernatural powers, even for a transformer. Several of the Autobots are quite afraid of it. It also carries a Decepticon logo instead of an Autobot logo. It has
    identified Unit Ten for itself."

    "Go along with it for now. Have it executed the moment the possibility appears. Have the Autobots brought down to the Tartarus Pits for conversion. Activate all trainee agents for possible mating with frames. Stand down evacuation procedures, but remain at alert stations."




    Unnamed Mountain
    Rocky Mountain Range, Colorado
    Outer chamber of unfinished Air Force base
    The 'Tartarus Pits'


    The black and yellow frame, Junko was sure it had been black and silver, was now nestled into the alcove at the outer edge of the Tartarus Pits. The Autobots had been line up against the wall and forced to sit on their knees. Their arms were not restricted from movement but they all knew how vulnerable and stationary they were as targets. Junko looked across the small group and shivered. Despite all her contact with these metallic leviathans there was something about these that badly unsettled her. Particularly the all silver one with a face plate instead of a recognisable humanoid face. There was something about it that projected a promise of violence.

    Junko shivered. Standing above her, the involuntary action caused Unit One to vibrate slightly. Junko Shirakami was older than some of the agents around her. In scattered groups of twos and threes the female agents moved around the entrance to the Tartarus Pits, keeping as close as possible to the friendly Unit frames, particularly Unit Three, the grey Scion mini-people mover which tended to act as a base station for the Agents when the were fully focussed on controlling the Units. Unit Three has a particularly useful communications suite which allowed all of the Units to react more freely with each other, without fear of hitting each other by accident. Until Unit Three's conversation the Unit frames had tended to operate more independently of one another. Junko had remembered long days in the Arizona desert, monitoring a single back road off an interstate highway, each time pleasantly refusing all offers of help from every other drooling male who happened along the road. Unit Three's conversion had been quite a boon.

    Junko Shirakami looked up once again at her charge. Outwardly her Unit looked every bit like the 'Decepticharge' but in negative, the yellow and black swapped. A more aesthetically pleasing result she was sure. She knew she had the best looking Unit out of all the bipedal warrior tanks. It was such a shame she couldn't get the cutting compound she liked anymore. It was important to look ones best. Junko tugged absent mindedly at a loose lock of blue hair, at least she could get the right dye for that! She looked across at the other Agents. Lumina Hoshii, as always, had a small amount of tinny music leaking from her control helmet as she walked past Junko without acknowledgement towards her beloved Unit Three. She had spent an entire week of downtime a few months back customising Unit Three's dashboard with an mp3 compatible car stereo.

    Atari and Unit Five were supervising the prisoners. The towering black Subaru held a rifle in each great gauntlet and studied the prisoners closely. Atari was not much of a conversationalist lately, and her animosity towards Junko had increased. Fine. Be like that. Just don't come running to me for help. Damn Unit Five. You'll keep. Melissa Fairborne, the only Caucasian in the team was with her. She had become quite the bossy britches since becoming the Agent most often used as a raid commander, and as Control's favourite. The large red bulk of Unit Six also held its large compact weapon pointed at the prisoners.

    Lumina had reached Ai Kurumi and Elizabeth Twoyoungmen. Ai was moving her head back and forth with great rapidity and with exaggerated arm movements. She must have been indulging in one of her manic lectures. Elizabeth, as normal, looked static and relaxed, her American Indian features composed and watchful. She actually had her helmet open and seemed to be observing everything about the room in minute detail, paying little attention to Ai's point. Ai, perhaps sensing this turned her attention towards the approaching Lumina. Elizabeth's gaze swept across Junko for a moment and the gaze paused, briefly, leaving Junko feeling as if she had been analysed by an ancient Indian Shaman. Junko turned to look towards the Tartarus Pits, where some of the Units, including Ai's Unit Two, were being prepped for cage storage for maintenance and powerdown. Elizabeth's Unit Eight was not there. The blue Honda Integra was actually installing Decepticharge into the conversion machine, but had paused and was looking right at her. Junko blinked, and Unit Eight's head was facing towards Decepticharge, checking over the connection points. Had she imagined the direction of Unit Eights gaze?

    Looking back at Elizabeth the gaze had moved on.

    Junko, at 21, had an age and experience advantage over most of the girls in the Agent programme. For some reasons younger girls were appreciated for directing the gargantuan Asterisk Units, their heritage as Transformers designs had not become evident until the first confrontation just 24 hours ago. Frankly the similarity between her unit and Decepticharge she found disturbing. It had become obvious the Units were not mere automatons. Which raised the question, did these Asterisk units have brains and personalities? If so, how were they affecting their Agent controllers. A strand of blue hair dropped irritatingly across here view. The bright blue was fading now, it was time for another colour. The money though was worthy it to look this good. Junko paused briefly, she never used to be this vain about her appearance, but that was before. Since Control had taken her in many years before her mind and body had become honed and toned, trained in the martial arts. Weapons training had followed before the promise of being paired with one of the gargantuan units. She had been first in line for the prototype Unit Zero, but her physical and mental training had reached a crucial juncture when Unit Zero was ready for activation. So her training partner Rei Ayanami had been promoted in her place.

    Unit Zero's activation had been traumatic. Unit Zero's initial behaviour had stabilised and Rei appeared to have control over the violet Cyclops, but at some point Rei had started screaming. Junko had put her helmet on and had tuned in to listen passively to the process she would undergo once Unit One's canary coloured body was complete. Unit Zero had walked over to point its mauve laser hand at Control himself. The Unit then shifted its aim and using two weapons laid waste to the activation chamber. In the confusion the robot had transformed into a Mazda RX8 and escaped, but evacuation was no under way. The facility was wrecked and burning with many dead. Control hurriedly got everyone evacuated, including the partially completed Unit One while emergency services arrived. The entire operation had been forced to leave Japan for America.

    Junko had been told Rei had been killed in the building collapse and fire. She knew that was not the case. But even with those thoughts she had put those fears aside for her own trail when Unit One went on line. One of the techs had told her as she was strapped into the activation couch, the first step towards mentally binding to her unit that there would be no repeat of what happened to Unit Zero. The inhibitors had been completely redesigned. But now Junko asked herself what were they inhibiting?

    Crissy Cole, Agent Ten, was pleading with the techs. Her Unit was being taken away from her. Imagining what taking Unit One away would mean to her she felt a strong pang of sympathy for the Vietnamese-Australian. With only one conversion chamber available, usually only one was needed, Unit Ten stood upright against the back wall. Unit Ten, a flame red coloured clone of Unit Seven stood leaning against the wall, its joints locked to keep it from collapsing.

    Elizabeth had her helmet closed now and was gazing upwards towards Decepticharge's dark bronze face. Unit Eight too was gazing deep into the smouldering eyes of the Decepticon. Unit Eight was ready to grab the spark chamber from Decepticharge when it had the clearance to do so, and thrust into the vacant chamber on Unit Ten. The Spark Chamber, Junko had no idea of the origin of the name, looked swollen in Decepticharge. Junko wondered what affect that had on the Decepticon.

    "Get this thing out of my face," snarled Decepticharge in the odd multi-layered voice. "Are we ready? I want to be rid of this frame, rid of the puerile voices this frame is plagued with.

    "Control, Agent Eight, we are ready to begin."

    Junko looked upwards as Unit Eight started to manipulate some controls on the larger chamber as some of the techs laboured over a panel near the base of the chamber. Power started to shudder through the systems of the conversion chamber. A random thought suddenly occurred to Junko.

    "Agent Six, Agent One, aren't there supposed to be more of them than six?"

    "There are two more downstairs near storage. They are being taken care of."

    "By who?"

    "Control has activated the Delta Units."

    "But they don't have Agents for their operation."

    "They don't need them. That's why they are Delta units. Their on board systems are sufficient to control themselves."

    Despite being thirty metres apart and the fully enveloping helmets obscuring faces she could see the look on Melissa's face. She had too much faith in Controls ability to be on top of all developments. Junko herself had great faith in Control, but she was aware that things occasionally could go very wrong. Self determining Unit frames were a step too far she thought.

    Power was now thrumming through Unit Ten. Two of the Autobots were using the commotion to hold a conversation. Junko move Unit One closer to them, brandishing her sub-rifle threateningly. The blue one shrank back away from the silver one that made her feel nervous earlier.

    Elizabeth started screaming.

    “Rei?” Junko called involuntarily. It was Unit Zero all over again. But wait... Elizabeth wasn't connected to Unit Ten or Decepticharge.

    “No,” the voice came from Unit Eight shockingly. “This is wrong. Smokescreen execute your plan now.”
     
  10. Rotorstorm

    Rotorstorm Wreck n’ rule

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    i suppose a little focus had to be on the humans, i don't think i liked it as much as the previous chapters, an interesting revelation that Shockwave is in fact still out there.
     
  11. Crimson87

    Crimson87 Senior Member

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    I enjoyed the Evangelion allusion.... caught it immediately....
     
  12. Crimson87

    Crimson87 Senior Member

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    I'm having a little bit of a problem keeping all the Unit numbers = frames = paired humans straight. That can happen when to many characters are introduced at the same time.

    I know the first 3 because I own the 3 BTAs.
     
  13. Rotorstorm

    Rotorstorm Wreck n’ rule

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    who's unit ten?
     
  14. Falcadore

    Falcadore Touring Car Autobot

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    No, Shockwave's still dead. His spark was used to recreate the Heart of Cybertron, he's very dead. This is meant to be a link back to Isolation where in Shockwave's introductory chapter, a Japanese criminal organisation rebuilt him. This is the explanation as to why they would do that.

    I'll reply to this one offline, as it's a little bit spoiler. The tale is being told, largely, from the Alternators perspective so it is supposed to be as clear to us, as it would be to them. Anyone want to know who is who amongst the Agents and Asterisk Units, drop me a line and I'll send you what I send to Crimson & Storm.
     
  15. RedWolf

    RedWolf Well-Known Member

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    Unit Zero? Rei?

    A pun?

    Rei is the kanji character for the number Zero.
     
  16. Falcadore

    Falcadore Touring Car Autobot

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    Call it a homage. Itwas a deliberate link, but not implying that it was the same person.
     
  17. MrFX

    MrFX Collecting never ends...

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    Yet another great chapter!

    Thank you!
     
  18. Rotorstorm

    Rotorstorm Wreck n’ rule

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    give me a pm when you've got the next chapter up. i'm not coming on this part of the board as often anymore
     
  19. Falcadore

    Falcadore Touring Car Autobot

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    Chapter 14 - Protection

    "Control, All Delta Units. Initiate activation sequence. Function, protect the facility from incursion. Several humans in bipedal armour have penetrated the facility, identification details are being forwarded as an attachment. There are two enemy units in your immediate vicinity. Delta One and Delta Two are to attack them only to get past them and assist our Units in the Tartarus pits. Delta Three is to engage and defeat the two units in proximity. If possible salvage for conversion, but not essential.

    "Delta Three Confirms."


    Unnamed Mountain
    Rocky Mountain Range, Colorado
    Lower galleries of abandoned Air Force facility
    Power Generation Chamber


    "Jazz, what did you touch?" Wheeljack realised he was becoming paranoid. For the last several minutes he could hear noises which sounded like something powering up.

    "Nuthin' man, hey this is me." Jazz attempt at cheer strangled and died a forlorn death in the gloomy atmosphere, soaked up in the sounds around them. Wheeljack could sense there were in danger but the source defied analysis.

    Beyond the frames of their friends, buried into the walls, providing power for this base from the systems which provided them with life, there had been another chamber. A wall had slid back flush into the fittings, revealing another chamber beyond. Neither were particularly keen to explore further. There were two hissing sounds of something depressurising, or re-pressurising. Then a single stomped footfall.

    The sound of a transformers foot on metal.

    "'Jack?" Jazz voice was filled with trepidation. His rifle rose slowly.

    "Yeah, I know." There was the sound of shifting plates, grinding and tucking. Then the sound of automotive engines revving. Wheeljack had his own twin barrelled rifle pointed in the same direction but now he drew his sword, holding it in his off hand. Headlights snapped on and turned to face them. Tyres squealed and first a Honda Civic, then a Jaguar XJS raced from the opening and drove at them. Wheeljack did not wait and started firing as the Jaguar raced towards him, the Honda picking Jazz. The pair absorbed the incoming fire and transformed, leaping at their enemies. The Jaguar shifted and distorted, forming not into a typical Cybertronian form but into a Panther like shape. The head was familiar, but dented as if it had taken a savage beating. A voice snarled a hissing growl and the figure leapt at Wheeljack. A single word forming in the engineers mind.

    Ravage!



    Jazz sprayed fire at the incoming figure, only picking up the Decepticon logo late in the piece as the figure transformed and stood. Jazz tried up until the last second to keep the red and black figure at bay before the figure round and blocky fist swung around and connected on Jazz cranial armour. The force of the blow picked him up and slammed him across the room like a cartoon superhero. He could feel his cranial armour cracked and gapped in several places, his visor shattered.

    The force of that blow was stunning. Shakily, the Mazda stood, still blocking the path of the Honda. Jazz shook his head, shaking some wires loose that they might find their connections and rejoin. A piece of visor fell and clattered tinnily to the floor. Jazz hit his headlights to help his now unfiltered gaze pick out the Decepticon. The shorter mech was stepping towards Jazz once again, powering up another swing. Jazz mind screamed a warning as it took in the size and shape of those fists. They weren't fists, they were huge cylindrical rams, like pile drivers.

    Piledrivers!

    Rumble!

    Jazz ducked back suddenly, letting the elevated right cross sail by his chin...

    ... and was smashed in his right side and the Decepticon brought his left ram into Jazz side. All kinds of alerts sprang on in Jazz onboard medical diagnostic. His system dropped a large load of energon into his system to attempt to compensate for the pain and disability.

    Jazz shock his head, attempt to clear rattled components and allow severed connections to find each others ends and reconnect. Rumble’s piledrivers were pounding the floor, tumbling Wheeljack off his feet while the more sure footed Ravage stayed upright on all four feet.

    Ravage? Ravage was dead! Prowl beat him to near to death before Ravage exploded his own weapon taking him and Prowl to the Allspark. Jazz struggled to stand but found Ravage leaping towards him, the Jaguars two forepaws hitting Jazz's exaggerated Mazda breastplate and knocking him to one side while Rumble smashed Jazz feet from under him and the pair raced away up the tunnel.

    "Jazz!" Wheeljack was quickly by Jazz' side.

    "I'll be fine Jackie boy." Wheeljack helped Jazz to stand and he sagged against the wall. The sheer effort of the fight had sapped his energies and his internal systems had switched to limp mode once the fight was done. Wheeljack's audio receptors glowed gently as his own self-repair systems moved from reset into action.

    "Did you figure out why he was familiar?" asked Wheeljack.

    "The piledrivers. It had to be Rumble."

    "Rumble? That scragger never shut up in a fight. He was quiet as a zombie." Wheeljack turned to move closer to the prone figure on the floor of the chamber. Jazz looked away from Wheeljack and back towards his friends stuck into the construct around them. It occurred to Jazz that the room was not symmetrical.

    "Do you really think that was Ravage? Wasn't he killed?"

    "I don't have answers for you Jazz, other than to remind you his Corvette corpse back at the vault has no head."

    "Alright then, supposing it was Rumble, what was he doing here?" Wheeljack's voice floated towards Jazz from behind as he stepped towards a wall section that was more alcove than wall, and was not replicated on the other side.

    "Guarding something?"

    "Guarding what?" Wheeljack's tired voice grew a new sharpness and Jazz could hear the engineer's legs moving and scraping on the floor behind him. All of Jazz' senses were heightened and he wasn't sure why, but as he reached out to touch the half panel covering the upper half of the alcove the Mazda felt he could hear everything in the room. Touching the panel caused to to retract rapidly in sections into the ceiling and a hulking purple-grey frame fell forward towards Jazz. Somebody yelped in surprise. Jazz surprised himself by discovering it was him.

    Wheeljack was at his side in moment, hauling the large frame off Jazz. The frame was familiar. Calming over-exerted systems, but for the moment Jazz couldn't place it.

    "It's Shockwave!" The engineer was right. It was definitely the battered form of the Decepticon Operations Commander, the scourge of the Decepticon occupation. Without his arms and the distinctive gun hand Jazz had not picked up immediately. Then Jazz remembered the last time he had seen Shockwave he had worn a different frame, one identical to his own.

    "This is his old frame," Jazz speculated aloud. "Remember the fight he had with Grimlock when we were covering Magnus' shuttle launch?"

    "Yes," said the engineer slowly. "That must have been why he needed a binaltech frame." The two stood in silence for a moment regarding the battered and decayed corpse.

    "You know what's more alarming than finding Shockwave in the closet?" asked Wheeljack thoughtfully.

    "What?"

    "Finding half of Shockwave. Where are his arms?"

    "I noticed that. That gun hand of his packed a lot of power."

    "Looks like a fair chunk of his internals have been stripped too. He was a lot lighter than I would have expected. What could you do with..." A loud hissing, gas escaping under pressure sounded from the chamber where Ravage and Rumble had emerged from.

    "That's another CR chamber." One heavy tread, followed quickly by another echoed up the passage towards them. A large shadow appeared.

    "Jazz you remember back in the old days, wherever there was Rumble there was another right behind?" Wheeljack's voice was full of foreboding. Jazz remembered a tall blue mech, with a dead voice more in common with Teletran than any living Cybertronian he had ever met. Cold, emotionless, ruthless, with the downright spooky ability to anticipate your own moves in hand to hand combat, as if he could read your mind. With a cadre of fiercely loyal mini-warriors to surround himself with. Next to Megatron himself, the most formidable Decepticon you could face. Not even Starscream could inspire the same levels of dread.

    "On your feet Special Operations Agent!" said Wheeljack. Wheeljack proffered a hand and hauled Jazz upright. The figure emerged slowly into the light, a large bulky frame, black on black, with some light metallic blue highlights, and an imitation copy of Optimus Prime's head, but the familiar faceplate suggested another face-plated warrior. The Decepticon logo picked out in violet at his shoulder glinted in reflected light against the black background. A heavy blaster sat in an enormous black gauntlet.

    "If that is who I think it is, I'll need your help."

    "Attention!" The cold flat voice echoed up the tunnel. Jazz brought his rifle to bear alongside Wheejack clutching his double blaster and grimly holding his activated energo sword in his off hand.

    "You will die here. For I shall be the nemesis of all who stand in the way of the Prime."




    Wheeljack stared back and felt some form of riposte was recquired.

    "Do your worst, we will stop you Soundwave, you cold cased, sparkless husk!" He felt Jazz straighten slightly and lean away from Wheeljack's frame attempting to stand independently, and to provide two targets. The black behemoth broke into a dead run straight at the two Autobots. Wheeljack fired, Jazz quickly following suit. The weapons fire slowed and punctured the great black figure but not enough and he boiled into the pair, knocking Jazz flat with the first punch to the cranial armour. Wheeljack tried to swing his sword around but found one hand clamped around the off hand holding the sword. Wheeljack brought his right hand around, having dropped his double blaster, and started pounding on the dark mechs cranial armour from the side. The faceless Decepticon shrugged off the blows, continuing to bend Wheeljack's sword arm backwards.

    Sensing the futility of the action, Wheeljack spun in the opposite direction and handed off the sword to his right hand and brought it around as fast as he could. Not having the time to do it properly the sword thudded into the dark mech on the flat side. The black figure nonetheless grunted with pain as energy discharged into him at the point of impact, those dark red eyes twinkling as sparks of energon raced across his frame. With an incoherent snarl the menacing figure, still firmly gripping Wheeljack's left arm, flung Wheeljack against the rear wall of the chamber where he had emerged from, torquing the arm out of its socket for a moment causing Wheeljack's cranial projections to glow bright in the darkened room from radiated pain.

    The dazed Wheeljack heard the report from an energy weapon and turned to see Jazz firing his own weapon. The mech darted to one side, ripping open a small panel and pulling from beyond a gleaming gold sword. Heavily patterned and ornate it looked useless as a weapon, with no real blade to speak of. It looked like it had two pommel guards and a heavy ridge extended along the flat of the triangular piece which looked most like a blade. A drop of a golden fluid fell from one serrations near the tip.

    Golden liquid? Electrum?

    "Jazz! That sword is coated in electrum!" Wheeljack dived after his double blaster, dragging his sword after him in the near nerveless grip of his dislocated shoulder. He was up and firing, as Jazz reeled from trying to catch the descending blade with the breech of his rifle. Wheeljack was firing again, but the dark mech spun, his heavy blaster suddenly in his hand and a powerful beam smashed Wheeljack backwards once more.

    As Wheeljack climbed to his feet he glimpsed something familiar in the room beyond. Despite the risk he turned to briefly look at it with the full gaze of both optics. Recognition came quickly and a dark maw opened in the pit of his internals.

    "Oh Primus no. Primus no, no, no, no, no."

    He turned back towards the battle. The dark monster was still facing towards Wheeljack. Jazz had his rifle up and aim in the middle of the big mechs back where Wheeljack had noticed a crack in the behemoths armour.

    "Unicron's horns. Jazz! No! It's NOT SOUNDWAVE!"

    The cry had been instinctive, without thinking of the consequences. Jazz was distracted at the crucial moment and the golden sword swung in a great arc, thudding into Jazz' side. The Mazda howled in exquisite uncontrolled pain with a gaping, sparking wound in his side. The black mech turned once more to Wheeljack as Jazz crashed to the floor and lay unmoving.

    "How could you?" Wheeljack was distraught. He could not see Jazz face and the binaltech frames did not turn grey like Cybertronian frames did but there was no movement at all. No sign that he functioned at all.

    "How could you? That's Jazz! He was your friend! All those years you shared trenches? How could you?" Wheeljack could not bring himself to raise his double blaster, despite the peril he knew himself to be in. He had never, not even during his suffering from the grievous wounds during the battle for Autobot City, felt such despair. The engineer looked up at his would be executioner as he approached, that sharp edged golden bludgeon in hand. Wheeljack found he could not resist. He suddenly realised why humans would collapse and sob. That was how he felt. He wished he could find in these last moments that release.

    The golden sword was raised.

    "For Primus sake. That you could do this while Optimus watches you. How could you?"
     
  20. Rotorstorm

    Rotorstorm Wreck n’ rule

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    who could nemisis be. he must have been an autobot but i'm truggling to think of one who carried a sword other than cerebros and the dinobots