This is the third edition of this story on these boards. This is my favorite TF story that I have written. And, as its subtitle now denotes, it is the third chapter in the Altercron Trilogy. Just how Altercron factors into this story, you'll have to wait and see.

As for the previous incarnations, they are as follows:
The First Super Crappy Version
-on this one for some strange reason, the actual Prologue, or in the new version Prelude to Darkness, is listed as Chapter 2, WTF?
The Second Slightly Less Crappy Version

As far as reviews are concerned, beatnik poe had this to say:

He also offered more critiques which can be found in the Second Slightly Less Crappy Version

Anyway, questions, comments, critques welcome. And now, on with the story.

 

Transformers: The War of Ages
Altercron: Book III
Prelude to Darkness​

Razorclaw swung his sword, striking his former teacher, Injector, in the side. The impact tore out a large chunk of the once proud Blendtron's side.
"How is this possible?" Injector fell to the ground, clutching his sword in one hand, and grasping at his heavily damaged side with the other. The pain was intense, but he was quick to rise up again, eager to show his former pupil the error of his ways.
The two locked swords in combat once more. Sparks flew from the blades as they struck each other, the force from the impact sent the two hurling apart, each struck the nearest wall of their makeshift arena. This arena was in all actuality the massive head of He who they were fighting for, Unicron.
The giant transformer's remains now hung suspended in space as a ring of debris orbiting the once glorious planet of Cybertron. 300 years ago, Unicron had tried to take this planet as his own and was defeated. Now, his heralds fight in his honor to claim the planet for him.
Injector and his two Blendtron generals, Torca and SkyShadow had been summoned by Scourge, the oldest and most powerful of Unicron's heralds to Cybertron under the pretense that they would be undertaking a new assignment. Razorclaw was waiting for them when they arrived.
When it was revealed that Razorclaw was to succeed them in their failed attempts to conquer the planet, Injector was furious and combat ensued.
Torca and SkyShadow watched on, taking bets between themselves as to who would win. At first it seemed that Injector had the upper hand, until he had no hand at all...
"No!" Injector fell to the ground again, cradling his handless arm in pain. Razorclaw strode over to him, laughing.
"Why persist sensei?" he asked mockingly. He touched his sword to the Blendtron's chin as he reached down to pick up Injector's sword, his severed hand still clutching it. "This is a lost cause. The days of the Blendtrons are over, now I will rule supreme over Unicron's-"
"Enough!" Injector leapt up, Razorclaw's sword slicing through his cheek, knocking both swords from his hands in the process. He tackled the insubordinate warrior to the ground, but Razorclaw was faster and stronger than he had anticipated. He quickly wrestled Injector off of him and threw him back to the ground. With both of their swords now gone, the two engaged in a form of combat Razorclaw enjoyed much more, hand-to-hand.
Torca and SkyShadow began to grow bored with the events.
"Razorclaw has lost his mind." Torca calmly replied as he turned to board the Blendtrons' ship. "This battle is all but over, no one bests Injector in Metallikato, save Bludgeon."
"Yesss." SkyShadow replied in his low hissing voice. "Let usss leave thisss to them. I'd hate to sssee our former comrade, how doesss one sssay it? Lossse hisss head."
The two combatants heard nothing of their conversation. Injector could have used the words of encouragement.
"By Primus, NO!" The two Blendtron's turned to see Injector fall in a heap, his arms torn from his torso like a rag doll.
"Impossible!" Torca cried out in shock at the sight of his former leader lying on the ground, mech fluid pouring like blood from his wounds. "Damn you Razorclaw!" He charged at him and fired his extendable tusks at him. His abilities were matched by Razorclaw launching his own extending talons. The two's weapons met, but not in stalemate. Torca's tucks forced their way through Razorclaw's talons, piercing him straight through.
Razorclaw, now impaled to the wall laughed at the apparent defeat he had just endured. With all his might, he tore his talons off at the base, snapping Torca's tusks in the process. This sent Torca wheeling through the arena like a discus. He slammed into his ship as it exploded in a ball of fire.
SkyShadow was the next to join the fray. He slung his claw-like boomerang at Razorclaw, an attack that would normally mean certain death for anyone else. Razorclaw snatched it from the air as if it were a stick and returned it to SkyShadow, slicing him in half.
"Is this truly the might of Unicron's Blendtrons? Pathetic." Razorclaw replied as he surveyed what remained of his foes. He turned to walk away but caught movement from the corner of his eye.
"No...not yet, you haven't bested me quite yet..." Injector replied as he slowly rose up in another valiant attempt to stop the rampage of his pupil.
"Pathetic old fool." Razorclaw mocked as he walked over to Injector. "You look like you are in pain, allow me to relieve you of it." He snatched the warrior up by the head and tightened his grip until it exploded in his hand. "Well now, that's that I'm afraid."
From the burning wreckage of the Blentron ship, Torca charged at Razorclaw. He slammed into his back with all his force, sending Razorclaw slamming into a wall. Much to his advantage, however, Razorclaw had landed beside his sword. He turned and grinned at Torca and snatched his sword from the ground. He slung the sword like a dart and pierced the Blendtron straight through. Torca collapsed, finally defeated.
"Now, now it is only a matter of time before my rise to power!"

 

Chapter 1​

Standing atop the craggy remains of what was once Unicron’s head, Razorclaw stood ready, poised to enact his grand conquest of Cybertron. He gripped the handle of his saber tightly, mech fluid from his battle with the Blendtrons still dripped from the blade. This blade had slew many warriors in combat and the heads of some of those unfortunate enough to find themselves on the receiving end of the swings adorned his wings. King Atlas, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker; all dead, all which remained were their heads, their faces still contorted in agony.
As he thought back on his battles, he received two transmissions. One from Scourge, the oldest and most powerful of Unicron’s heralds. The other from Devestator, his own general who had been sent to prehistoric Earth on a recovery mission.
“I take it,” Scourge’s deep metal voice droned over the comlink, “your mission was successful?” Typical, commanding overtone, no greeting as usual Razorclaw thought to himself.
“Yes, the Blendtrons have been terminated. Now, go find someone else to bother, I’m busy.” Razorclaw said with a certain degree of smugness.
‘Not that you fool. I mean the recovery of the Decepticon Ravage.” Scourge replied with an incriminating overtone.
“Oh yes. I do not know. If you would annoy someone else for awhile, I might be able to find out.” Without another word, Razorclaw closed the comlink and turned his attention to Devestator. “General?”
“Yes M’Lord?” Devestator’s low garbled voice returned.
“Have you found Ravage yet? Remember failure is most assuredly not an option if you are hoping for longevity.”
“Of course sir, we have recovered Ravage and the remains of his ship. He was, surprisingly enough, still primarily functional in some sort of stasis lock, despite the lack of a head…”
“Hmm.” Razorclaw thought to himself for a moment. “This must have been a side-effect of being so close to his original form on the Ark. I wonder…”
“Whatever you say,” techno babble was not Devestator’s strong point, “Skywarp and myself are on our way as we speak and will arrive shortly.”
“Very well, Razorclaw out.” Razorclaw ended the transmission and returned his attention to Scourge who was radioing him again. “Now what Scourge?”
“A little more respect would be appreciated Razorclaw.” Scourge sharply replied. “To get to the point, I want to remind you of something.”
“And that is?”
“You blundered your mission on Earth. For some reason, Unicron has given you another chance. Fail again, and you will not be so lucky. Whether Unicron wishes it or not, I will rip your spark from your chassis myself if I have to.”
“To the Inferno with you and your idle threats Scourge.” Razorclaw shot back.
“I’m well on my way. Scourge out.” With that the transmission ended and Razorclaw was left in the silence of space.
A transwarp portal opened a few hundred kilometers from Razorclaw. Within a few minutes, his generals would arrive and they would be ready to rain fire upon the imperfect Cybertron he saw before him now. No longer was this the planet he once called home. Gone was the cold metallic world of his past. In its place lay a world of transorganics, one that gave off an aura of reform and new opportunities for its inhabitants. All that would have to change, now that a solution had presented itself.
The ship carrying its precious cargo exploded from the rift in transwarp space and sat down gently on the metallic surface of Unicron’s face. Razorclaw fluttered his massive wings and wafted over to the ship as its occupants stormed out.
The first to exit was Devestator, his body a fused form of an elephant and a lion, personifying his strength and honor. Skywarp followed, a fused eagle and crocodile, a living embodiment of stealth and cunning. The third to exit the shuttle was Ravage, who somehow had reformatted himself into a twisted Transmetal form.
“Special Agent Ravage on assignment from the Tripredacus Council reporting for duty sir!” Ravage proclaimed, saluting Razorclaw.
“Good to hear, and see I might add.” Razorclaw looked at Ravage, puzzled as to how he had reformatted himself, but dismissed it as some stroke of luck on his part. “The time has come for our ascent my minions! With the conquest of Cybertron,” Razorclaw spoke as a red portal violently opened and closed, distorting space behind him, “we shall pave the way for our rule over the entire Universe! Nothing shall stop us!”
The portal stabilized and through it, Razorclaw saw the Cybertron of his memories. The warriors boarded the shuttle as Razorclaw transformed to beast mode and flew straight into the portal, ready to come face to face with his own destiny.

 

Very good fan-fiction set, Altercron!  

 

cool, a reply! Thanks. I am working on the revisons for chapter two (I wouldn't suggest reading the older versions if ya'll are looking for spoilers BIG changes are a'comin)

 

Chapter 2​

The hot twin suns of the distant jungle planet of Olymptonus beat down like an unending rain of heat. The scorching heat, a lasting effect of the genocidal Scarem’s plot to destroy his Maximal enemies, had nearly eradicated all the indigent life of the planet, and in the end cost him and his Predacons the Beast Wars.
The Maximal commander B’Boom and his remaining crew were hard at work, packing up to head home. Through the jubilant cheers of victory, he could feel the heartaches his crew felt for their lost comrades. He’d lost five of his best men during the Beast Wars, and now held the burden of bringing the news to their loved ones back home on Cybertron.
Just before the battles were over, Optimus Minor arose from a stasis pod aboard their ship, the Adalon. Though he carried the name Optimus, he did not take up a role as leader and instead settled into seclusion in his quarters aboard the ship. At random times, he’d pop onto the battlefield, and nearly single-handedly take out the Predacons and return to the ship without a word. Other times, he simply sit at his station, ranting on about an unseen danger on Cybertron, from a time and place unknown.
Though the prophetic rants got to the rest of the crew, B’Boom paid it no mind, dismissing it as some sort of post-creation trauma. He tried to carry on his mission, business as usual but tending to Optimus’ psychological problems was a job in and of itself. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that Minor’s protoform had been a blank, carrying no spark within it. Because of that, he’d been the focus of much of their science officer’s research the past few months.
Sonar, the chief Cybertronian Science Magistrate before he’d been deployed with B’Boom, was, appropriately enough, the most intelligent Maximal B’Boom had ever met. It was a wisdom that came with years, and Sonar had proven himself to be not only a top caliber scientist, but also a master tactician. Sonar had been instrumental in the defeat of the Predacons, and in giving life to Jawbreaker, the last remaining crew member of the first Maximal ship sent to stop Scarem.
When Jawbreaker’s stasis pod crashed onto the planet, the Transwarp wave from Scarem’s Solar Inhibiter disrupted the pod’s Creation Matrix program. Sonar worked hard for decacycles to correct the problem and in the end used an experimental procedure, Spark Transfusion, to make up for the lack of a ‘Matrix’. Using a small segment of B’Boom’s very spark and programming code, he jumpstarted Jawbreaker’s spark. Because of sharing a bit of B’Boom’s life force, Jawbreaker looked to him as a sort of father figure, and shared his battle prowess.
“Sonar, is the ship ready?” B’Boom called into his comlink.
“Yes Commander, but I must say, I don’t have a lot of faith in the ship’s ability to make it back to Cybertron.”
“Noted. But if there is anything to Minor’s fortune telling, then we are Cybertron’s only hope.”
“We are.” Minor’s voice echoed from the empty cargo hold. “We must go, now.”
“Minor…Return to quarters.” B’Boom said, exasperated.
“Of course. But our time is running out. We must leave.”
“Minor!” B’Boom called again, and Minor scurried off into the shadows of the ship. B’Boom followed behind, striding into the bridge. Jawbreaker was stationed at the weapons controls, Sonar at the helm. B’Boom sat in the captain’s chair and took one last glance out the ‘window’ that was once a viewscreen. Minor entered and took a seat at tactical.
“Minor, begin the liftoff sequence.”
“Yes Commander, we must hurry. Cybertron is in grave danger.”
“Damnit! Shut up Minor. Sonar, systems status.”
“All systems go Commander, it’s now or never!”
“Punch it!” The ship rattled and creaked as it began it’s rough liftoff. Now came the real test, as the ship began to build speed it thrashed and roared violently. “This may not have been the best of ideas.” B’Boom quietly replied to himself. The jump to Transwarp space was a risk in any vessel, especially in one in the condition of the Adalon. The jump could potentially tear the ship, which had been damaged often during the Beast Wars, and was now held together by patches, to pieces. “Sonar, you ready?”
“Yes sir.”
“On my mark, three, two, one…Mark! Initiate the drive!” B’Boom yelled over the roar of the ship.
“Roger that.” Sonar replied, rapidly keying in the jump sequence. The ship thrashed once more, then was sent hurling into a different space.
“What is this? What has happened to space?”
“Wow, you are a blank.” Jawbreaker jokingly replied to Minor.
“Enough.” B’Boom replied in turn. “This my friend, is Transwarp space. In this space, we are capable of faster than light travel and thusly, can arrive back on Cybertron in no time.” He could see that Minor was shaken up, perhaps his fortune telling had finally gotten to himself. “Don’t worry. Soon we’ll be home, and you’ll see there was never anything to worry about.