The Rough Draft...

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The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Thu Feb 22, 2018 10:53 am

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
Foreword

Once Upon A Time, I was a very creative sort. To say I lived in my own head, my imagination, was an understatement. I always had a pencil and paper in my hand. Forever writing, drawing, creating etc

Years go by and Adulthood starts to dull that creativity. I imagine to retain the level of imagination I had before, I should have gone into a more aligned field of study and/or work. However that was not to be.

It has not completely left me. I have four completed works and concepts for another two. These works as I call them, are complete runthroughs of four separate series, from beginning to finale. Two are of my own creations, one is based upon the X-Men and back on topic, one is Transformers.

Entitled Rebellion.

I draw and write. My writing is more in scripted form to aid my drawings.
For Transformers, I largely wanted to employ my own cast. The Main reason for this is I have often been very frustrated drawing TF's if my picture doesn't resemble an established design. So I generated a sizable amount of concept art, more so than I ever have before.

For Rebellion, I took pieces that I enjoy from Beast Wars and G1, while not being 100% faithful to previous works. Consider it an Elseworlds/What if? inspired series than a straight up fanfic. EG for certain characters, their personality is based more upon extracts from their bios and visual cues from the toys, than works of other writers. But I digress...


Transformers: Rebellion

Chapter One - The Doom That Came To Cybertron

Part One: Prologue

Peace. That's what they call it. The Great Wars, days gone by. The Autobots and Decepticons, relics of the past. The Beast Wars too, came to an end. Yet can a race so intrinsically tied to conflict, ever attain peace without it?

Ravage: "Now let us talk.."

Overbite: "Please do, take your time. Geez, Bad Kitty.. Grape Face flashes one vid of your old boss and you're practically lapping at his feet."

And with that, Megatron's cell was closed once more. Both he and Ravage looking on in abject shock and horror as a lone and hidden Maximal spy imprisons them both, without firing a shot.

The Beast Wars ended soon after. Using Ravage's confiscated ship, Optimus Primal rounded up the surviving Predacon forces, the stasis pods and any useful supplies from both the Axalon and Predacon base. With victory and escape granted to them by the hubris of a Former Decepticon, prisoners are secured and new allies awakened. They returned to Cybertron. Home at last.

Blackarachnia and Silverbolt could not be found however. Their last known co-ordinates pointing to a recently erupting volcano. They were presumed lost, listed MIA.

Four Deca-cycles pass...

Cybertron

SCCRRREEEEE!! SCCRRREEEEE!!

Warning! Warning! Unstable Space Bridge activity detected!

Maximal Security Team Leader: "Move it Grunts! The Space Bridge has been under strict lock and key since the Great Upgrade. The fact someone got through the defenses is troubling enough, but to have the knowledge to even use the old relic is very scary"

Maximal Grunts: "Yes Sir! Wreck - N - Rule!!"

Meanwhile, fifty levels below, Maximum Security Block LV-117.

Megatron: "Hmm. Yesss, Sounds like trouble above. Even down in this "inescapable" pit. Removed as I am from local time and space by a Transwarp field, that alarm is akin to sweet music. Scurry along little Maximals, your "peace" may prove shorter lived than you hoped."

Snapdragon: "Buried but not forgotten, M-Boss"

Shock once more returned to Megatron's face as the colossal Transmetal form of his former Enforcer emerges from the opposing corridor, as if from the shadows themselves. At the same moment the spacial boom of a localised transwarp shunt reveals the jet form of Waspinator. With it, Megatron's surprise gives way to a malicious grin.

Waspinator: "Frreee Bozzz Bot, we're told hehehe"

Megatron: "So I owe this escape attempt to some mysterious benefactor? Ohh but were my release assured. Nooo. For as tempted as I might be to carve my vengeance from the lowly Maximals who threw me here. Other than the Tripredacus Council seeking my head, I have no means of escape from this fortified prison, let alone Cybertron above. Hmmm"

Megatron then closes his eyes, turning his back on his one time troops to dismiss them. Defeated.

Snapdragon: "Already squared your circles, M-Boss"

Megatron opens his eyes to view the giant shining jaws of Snapdragon's Komodo Dragon mode tearing through his restraints like paper. His cell bars disabled and restraints now in pieces, Megatron is free once more.

Megatron: "YESSSS! Now quickly you dolts, Where is my exit!?"

Transforming to Jet Mode once more, Waspinator re-opens his Transwarp shunt.

Waspinator: "Special surprise for Maximalzz! Space Bridge re-activated, powered by Transwarp Cell hehehe"

Snapdragon "Unstable. Soon Boom, M-Boss"

Megatron: "A mismatched Maximal Transwarp Cell attached and amplified by an active Cybertronian Space Bridge. The power unleashed could tear a hole in Cybertron itself! I almost shed a tear at the loss of Maximal life from such an explosion. Luckily such moments pass quickly. Once I reach the Space Bridge where am I headed?"

Waspinator: "Freedom, and Alliezz, Megatron!"

Megatron: "Indeed. My restoration is assured! I will return to Earth with an army and complete my namesake's instructions before word even reaches Primal. This time the Beast Wars will be mine! MEGATRON TERRORISE!!! HA Hahahahaha"

Transforming to conserve energy, Megatron enters the shunt without a moments pause or reflection on why his rescuers do not follow. A lapse in judgment, most grave for the brilliant and calculating Predacon General.

Snapdragon: "Goodbye, M-Boss. Terrorcon soon pleased!"
Waspinator: "Megatron not even notice our new colourzz. New Shunt will take uzz outside Space Bridge Control. Make Sure Former Bozz bot reaches final destination "unharmed" hehehehe"
Snapdragon: "Kill many Maxi's before Boom!"

So the two depart. No record would show what happened in LV-117. the area would soon be vaporised along with 1/12th of Cybertron from a Hyper-Spacial explosion visible from Moon Base 2. If Megatron had only paused a moment, not overcome with his own desire to exact his revenge, he might have taken time to assess his former troops. If only to look upon and see them sport no faction symbol he would recognise. Nor use any activation code at all. Hubris.. Ever the flaw of the Megatron!


:CON: End of Part One :CON:
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Re: The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Sun Mar 04, 2018 2:05 pm

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
Part Two: One for the road

Earth: The War.

Six Stellar Cycles ago..

Tigatron: "..I'd forgotten what beauty this planet once offered"

Snapdragon: "HA! Nothing but Ashes soon"

Violent explosions rocked the serenity of the canyon. Tigatron and Airazor rocked apart by the onslaught. Tigatron dazed, trying to steady himself, could only look on in utter horror as the lush alien plant life about him burned uncontrollably. Panicked, His gaze darted around the scene for Airazor. Only to see her engaged in lethal combat against Snapdragon, Fractyl and Spittor. The bio-chemical scent of the fire bombs coating his keen senses, explained by the presence of the Enforcer's entourage. With a shake of his head and lightning reflexes, Defense missiles sprang from his wrist, instantly removing Fractyl from the battle. With a shriek of delight, Snapdragon lunged towards the shaken Tiger..

Snapdragon: "Tiger! M-Boss say EAT YOU!!!"
Gut gun in hand, Tigatron barely evaded the slathering jaws of the Transmetal Dragon, riposting the assault with blaster fire of his own. All direct hits, which found home within the malicious mouth of the Enforcer.

"GAHHHHHHHH!!"

The Predacon retched in pain.
His now uncontrolled momentum, impacting against the last and largest of the alien plants. His great mass cutting through the stork and it's quiet hum rang no more. A Blaster shot narrowly missing his shoulder, Tigatron's view turned to the ridge above. Powerpinch, Jetstorm and Insecticon had arrived, training their fire upon him. Shifting to Beast Mode, Tigatron effortlessly surmounted the cliff face, causing the weaker Predacons to flee. Spittor, half smoldering, limped quickly after them.

Turning back to the valley Tigatron closed his eyes in solemn reflection. "Nothing left save the field of war.." He mused mirthlessly. Airazor soon returned to his side alongside Cheetor, with word from Optimus Primal....

Present Day, Cybertron

Megatron "Hmmm These ancient, hallowed halls. A glimmer at where I might have strode. Yess. Yet soon within my grasp again. The Maximals may have scattered my army and sealed Rampage away forevermore. But thanks to my salvation by an unknown ally, my restitution is at hand!"
With that, jets whirred to life and Megatron was airborne.

Crossing the massive expanse of the central hub of the Cybertronian Space Bridge. To the distilled form of their ancestors, the great hall was both colossal achievement and yet garish in it's excess. The Space Bridge technology immediately sealed in mutual agreement by the Pax Cybetronia. The power required to maintain the teleporter equated to sustaining several generations of future Cybertronians. Energon no longer a commodity of easy procurement, nor unmerited waste.

An island housed the Bridge itself. Connected to the main entrance by a single shimmering gangway. Large enough for the full Convoy Host of the Ark itself to roll astride into the beyond. The only illumination, a small retro fit Maximal console pulsing in standby. With little effort Megatron crossed to the console, with a mindful eye towards the only default access point to the room. A doorway so massive and solid, even rust and Stellar Cycles of non-use, made it no less imposing.

Megatron: "The co-ordinates are pre-set. Interesting, Yesss. I don't recognise the star system and yet...?"
For the first time, for the Last time, Megatron's uncanny intellect observed a missing component. "Where is the Transwarp Cell?? The controls indicate barely enough residual power for a ten nano-klik shunt."

FASSSHHOOOMMMmmmmmmmmm

The great gateway began to open. Ever slowed by time, dust and scrap cascading the entrance in equal measure. Generating a plumb of decay briefly obscuring the outer world from the Predacon. Yet it did little to mask the deafening arrival of sound to the mighty chamber. Sirens and blaster impacts filled the previously silent air. Lesser screams of the dying underpinning the shifting gloom.

With a roar, Megatron readied himself for what may be his greatest battle. All weapons primed across the gangway.

Through the haze, Snapdragon stoically emerged. His Transmetal form a mass of scorched burns and battle tears. Within his hands hung pieces of a foe. A Maximal or not, unclear. It's dismembered arm still hold the trigger on a blaster. Languid Bolts impacting Snapdragon's head listlessly and with little effect.

Snapdragon: "Cell primed for use, M-Boss"

Thrown from his great claws, a then flaming form screeched overhead before crashing mid-gangway. Waspinator. Far more worse for wear than either of his former comrades. But a brief gesture from Snapdragon, Megatron understood and moved to secure his "power source". Three Fusion blasts shifted the scene. Two direct hits at Snapdragon's back cast him beyond the doorway and out of view, into the bowels of the chamber. The third blast incinerated Megatron's right arm, cannon and all. The Predacon sent reeling to the floor.

Tigatron emerged, staggering from the shadows. Energon leaking from several savage bite marks across his haggard frame. He held a Riot Cannon aloft once more and re-aimed it at Megatron's head. His once noble eyes devoid of all, but wrath and pain.

Tigatron: "For Airazor... NO. MORE. BEAST. WARS!!"

:MAXIMAL: End of Part Two :MAXIMAL:
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Re: The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Wed Mar 07, 2018 2:14 pm

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
Part Three: Other Variants

Outside of space and time, at the centre, beginning and end of all things, awaits The Nexus. Nebula, Stars and other spacial miasma all converge amid a great debate, a gathering of a race in chaos…

Vok:
“Lost to us now… The Falcon… The Tiger … Emissary of notable Multiversal potential now unrealizable to this Timestream… The mission, to safeguard the time flow, now in jeopardy, without the fulcrum. The experiments will fail in their task with unrestrained disruptions. A spacial tear, a closed loop unfurls again and again. A new selection must be made, Nexus Earth holds another, dangerous and untested in causality, due concern taken as this extraction causes no danger to the integrity of the time flow. The experiments must continue, the chaos fixed at the heart of the time expunged, our cause, our debt, our sacrifice…”


A brilliant explosion. A preternatural pulse envelops the world. All are laid low… Some lower still, into the fires of the Earth untimely… plucked?

“New specimen, chosen in the moments of dissolution, protoplast, pieces of one whole, or more, unknown. Their race, radical now, shifted by exposure to our light, untested before. At the moment our power altered the experiment, this specimen was unguarded and fell to natural corrosion… Now with us, as but pieces, unknown and unmissed, to begin anew, the last emissary, barren of Their life force, in concordance then, granted powers beyond limit of previous experimentation, with sub-minimal risk of failure. Celestial Unity, Celestial Unity, Celestial Unity….”


Where once desiccated pieces held aloft, the might and mystery of the Vok would blend into something unparalled. Unique. Unbreakable. Yet but a golem, unyielding extension of their will. A finale to ensure the balance of time and space against a previously irrevocable black cancer at the heart of time itself. Three of their number would deem Host to it’s form. The safety of the timestream itself in their care alone. Once through Optimus Primal they learned of a potential ally, but their resolve is now shaken…

Tarantulas: “All ships, confirm preparation to launch”

Ravage: “Confirmed. As is the integrity of the stealth field concealing our little cordon. This Transmetal is truly remarkable.”

Sea Clamp: “…Confirmed”
Cicadacon: “The Particle bombs are primed. The success of the ambush, assured.”
Ram Horn: “Get on with it! The carnage you promised”

Tarantulas: “Good, good hmhmhmhm. Now I have finally found you, my illusive and arrogant enemy. This was over the moment you crossed me...ehhhaahaaWHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!


Vok:
“Alarm? Curious….”


Five Predacon Cruisers de-cloak in unison. Encircling the hub of The Nexus. Twenty five bombs are launched. The most powerful weapons of mass destruction within the Predacon arsenal. Augmented further by enriched Transmetal. The blast damage, incalculable. The numbers of Vok lost, unknown. There is no time for defence or even to scream. Nebula erupt into cascades of flame, stars go nova. The cordon enacts a great shield generator so that not even light can escape. The Nexus burns in chaos unending. The mad Tarantulas deploys further ordinance into the maelstrom to stoke his hubris. Moments pass as the Tripredacus Council and their loyal followers revel in the carnage of extinction. A quiet dim is then heard in the din of Space. Growing loud, louder, LOUDER, LOUDER

Tripredacus Council: “Tarantulas explain! What is happenin-“
Ravage: “Perhaps we should fle-“
Tarantulas: “ Ohh No no no no no no no no no-“

The shield is shattered by an orb of light ejected into time itself. Unleashing a blinding force from within. This annihilated hub, removes itself from the timestream to prevent a Multiversal cascade. Everything in the surrounding five solar systems is joined in oblivion.

:PREDACON: End of Part Three :PREDACON:
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Re: The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Sun Mar 11, 2018 5:19 pm

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
Part Four: Another Time and Place

Earth, 2510

Atop Lookout Mountain, Ramulus waits.

“The dawn of a universal age of peace is at hand. Just one final conflict and it’s done. Such is what is said. One last cell of dissention. Those unable to let go of the past and embrace the brave new future. At the heart of it all lies Scourge.”

Scourge, the second in command to the late Predacon High Commander, Gigatron. In the aftermath of the Multiformer’s failed insurrection against the Maximal Senate amid Grand Cruiser Maximus, Scourge and a small band of loyalists took the opportunity to steal the Transmetal Driver from the central spire of science in Iacon.
An alien device of unparalleled advancement to the Cybertronian race. The extensive study of which led to the Second Great Upgrade. Resulting in the advent of full integration between the Transmetal alloy and Cybertronian systems. The process was tentatively dubbed “Transmetal 2”, it changed the lives of all Transformers. Factions became irrelevant now all were able to exist without the need for conventional energy sources at all.

All were now equal, now All Are One.

Scourge was one of the last to accept this truth. Refusing to renounce his Symbol, he fled to Autobot City, vowing to save his people. Unable to procure a space cruiser of his own, his goal is to utilize the Time Frame. A localised Transwarp teleporter, used in Autobot City. His only option, as non-terrestrial starships are prohibited within the Earthern solar system, as agreed in the Pax Cybertronia.


Autobot City – C&C – Ten Cycles ago

At the centre of the sprawling Cybertronian Metropolis rests the Command and Control hub for the entire Sol region. “The Embassy” as it’s affectionately known. Situated within the former head of the Legendary Autobot Metroplex. His spark long since returned to Cybertron and reformatted. Amid the many monitors within three lone Maximals access the increasingly alarming situation.

Prowl: “We don’t know his objective, however, the fact he is trying to escaping into the timestream with the TMD can’t be good.”

The governor of Autobot City and chief strategist to the Maximal Senate, Prowl insists on strict military discipline and formality within his command. The reformation of the geopolitical landscape of Cybertron has… yet to reach Autobot City.
‘Logic dictates discipline within a military installation is eroded without structure.’

Prowl: ”He has marshalled his forces well within the City to mask his movements. I have detected attacks within various City sectors. A swarm of Sweeps, led by Scarem, is engaging Propionica and Panther in Sector 9. Spittor and a large group of Dinobots have Cybershark and Jawbreaker pinned, defending Harbour Sector. At their last communiqué, Stinkbomb and Optimus Minor are admirably manning the Outer Defenses, holding off the great Dragon Noble.”

Nightglider: “Grreat. No doubt Scourge’s heavyhitter is the cavalry.”

Sonar: ”If he gets in here, the shelters won’t be enough to protect the civilians within Metroplex core. At this rate-“

Prowl: ”AS Fliers, it falls to us to locate and detain Scourge quickly before this escalates. Panther reported five Sweeps, which means Scourge either has the two remaining with him or acting as decoys.”

Sonar: ”So the three of us are to scan the city, avoiding becoming engaged in any of the active guerrilla warfare throughout the city and then, even if we each tag one “Scourge” before he reaches the Time Frame, we still have the problem of his exception speed, agility and whatever personal chemical defences he would have no problem exposing this city to”.

Prowl: ”That’s why we have the man on the wall. Find him, tag him and if he refuses to surrender, Ramulus will be able to drop all three targets within a margin of error of 4 nano-kliks.”

Nightglider: ”Something doesn’t add up. Are we sure all of the insurgents are in play?”

Prowl: ”Intel on Gigatron’s entire cell was sketchy at best. We can only work on the information we have from Chaar. Ramulus, this is Prowl, we are deploying now. Await three signals and engage.”


Lookout Mountain, now

Slagmaker raised, Ramulus takes stock from the sight of his cannon. Visibility? clear. Wind resistance? Minimal.
“I work alone. I always have. Makes ‘sniper’ the ideal profession for a wartime loner. I don’t know what role I will have in this new era. I suppose a lot of us don’t. The Senate hasn’t pushed the reformation to the colonies yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”

Three bright pulses rocket into the sky, distracting Ramulus from his revelry.
“Targets marked! What the-?”
His eyes drawn to an Earth shaking explosion. The Outer Defenses erupting into smoke and kindling. Noble has entered Autobot City. A second roar from his flank immediately also draws Ramulus’ aim towards the Dragon.

Savage.

The counterpart to Noble. At one time a mining siege engine, later reformatted into a second Dragon within the Predacon ranks. The Alpha and Omega of destruction. Codenamed: Red and Purple, in homage to the original Faction Symbols and in respect to the power they wield.

Ramulus:”Prowl, sighting of Red and Purple within Autobot City confirmed! Engaging”

Prowl: ”What!?! Negative! Scourge cannot be allowed to escape, is that understood?”

Ramulus:”To the pit with you Prowl. The troops on the ground are being annihilated.”

Prowl: ”We have no hope of engaging either of those Ultra Class Titans, without the Wreckers. Which aside from you are not present. The order is given, Soldier. Obey it”

Ramulus"...Wreck-N-Rule"

With both anger and frustration, Ramulus looks away from the slaughter and three shots are fired. The Fliers confront the colossal dragons, promptly destroyed before a single shot could be fired. Prowl was himself slain. Bitten in half while actively evading Savage, from a feigned rear ambush by Noble. Ramulus now free to engage, does what he can to avenge his allies. He is quick to draw both the attention and unchecked aggression of both Predacon behemoths.
Lookout Mountain is shattered instantly in the duel attack.

Shot One... Close Range. A direct head hit! A headless Sweep flails to the ground.

Shot Two…Mid Hit. Clips the wings of it’s target. A stunned Scourge plummets through the air. Impacting the ground just shy of the entrance gate to the Time Frame. The TMD, ruptures from the impact. Incinerating the dying Predacon alongside the fortified gate. The Deadman’s Switch activates and the remaining Sweeps detonate. Removing an unsuspecting Scarem from delivering the killing blow to his two Maximal opponents.

Shot Three…The Longest Shot. Passes through the ashes of the Sweep and into an exposed Energon line. The Chain reaction short circuits the inactive Transformation cog of the City-Bot. From ancient reflex, an enormous arm seemingly launches into the air, before gravity delivers to back down to slam into transfixed Noble. Killing the dragon and all others within reach of the impact.

Meanwhile, Iguanus de-cloaks and silently takes his leave in the ensuing carnage. He activates the Time Frame and after looking back with a grin, enters..

:CON: End of Part Four :CON:
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Re: The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Thu Mar 15, 2018 11:43 am

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
Part Five: Interlude

The Void

A long figure floats aimless through the pitch-black void. Lost to consciousness, drifting without direction or end. A voice heard within the mind itself, draws closer, until sound becomes words. Words become speech. Speech begets understanding. Listening intently, The Figure’s focus is drawn. Attention on nothing else.

“…Minion…”

The Figure stirs.

”...Minion…”

Consciousness took hold!

”Welcome Minion!”

The Figure: ”Who? Who said that?” The Figure speaks aloud, with a voice previously unknown.

”I… am your master!”

With that revelation, an all-enveloping light blinds The Figure. With that too did The Figure become aware of sight?

The Figure: ”Show yourself, Master”

”I have summoned you here for a purpose”

Clarity emerges within The Figure

The Figure: ”Purpose? Purpose? Purpose! Yes, I was charged with purpose… What? What is my purpose, Master?”

The Light, The Master, recedes to a pinpoint against the darkness. Transfixed, the singular optic lens of The Figure dwells on nothing else. The diminishing of The Light brings The Figure’s attention to it’s own physicality. Hands? A body, limbs. Being. Things The Figure was oblivious of floating through the void.

”This is my command. You are to destroy all life outside this place. Your master is entombed within this void.. until a balance of life force is exchanged for my freedom. You, my herald, are the one thing, THE ONLY THING, within my power to release. Strong enough to enforce my will.”

The Light once more encompasses The Figure. Enraptured, The Figure speaks:
“You have nothing to fear. By your leave, I will crush the universe with my bare hands!!”

”You exaggerate.”

The Figure: ”Forgive me my Master.” A sycophantic tone admonishes the newly formed pride and confident boasting of The Figure. ” I am but your instrument, you are to simply point out my path and I shall carve through any that dare oppose it! The point is, by your command, they are already dead, this universe destroyed!”

”Excellent”

A secondary point of light briefly pierces the gloom. The Figure’s gaze does not cast itself elsewhere but upon its Master.

”Your power is great. But you belong to me, now. So will not be alone in this task. I shall grant you an army. New, unwavering troops to command…

The figure bows prostrate in fanatical reverence.

”…and an armada, to aid in your purpose”

The second light tasks form. Its brilliance gives way to an asscher shape of dark metal, devoid of detail save for a large circular recess. Symmetrically segmented, with smaller circles within each divide. The only colour vibrant to sight within the darkness lay beneath this recess. A huge blue symbol is emblazoned at the centre of the shape. A rectangle, with smaller triangles cut ajar from its lower corners and midway through its vertex. The only discerning physical detail, a single horizontal eye at its centre. The Figure, upon earlier examination, notes it reflects that of its own optics.


The Figure: ”My Master grants me boon without equal. And yet…”

The Figure’s gaze trails away for the first time.

”And yet???”

The Figure: ” Might you grant me a name?” An arm extends to the symbol. ”A title to the Host of your will?” The Figure’s sight cast downward. Presuming too much from one who has given so much already. An immediate act of repentance is anticipated for such audacity.

”…
Behold: Terrorcon.
Grand Emissary.
First Herald to the Neotron Host”


Filled with awe and devotion, the named Figure did speak once more.

The Figure: ”I, Terrorcon, am truly unworthy, my Master. Thy will be done!”

The last form of self-actualisation is granted to Terrorcon with this confirmation of identity. A stirring within is unleashed unto the physical world. Transformation!

Where once a lone, motionless cadaver traced silently through oblivion without end, something now braced itself by the fire of conviction. Into a quiet, unassuming corner of the universe, a faint ripple as of a drip in an endless ocean did form. First from this wave of reality itself a great vessel advanced into the cosmos, without external means. In it’s wake, did at first erupt a terrible scream that would pierce the heavens themselves. IT followed with blurring speed. A beast of ancient antiquity itself: A Chimera! Its monstrous form encircled the Great Ship Malice, with distended neck, violent jets and segmented wings flailing in a dance of chaos. Entering the control room, humanoid form restored, Terrorcon heard The Master’s voice a final time…

”Now go! Destroy them all!!”

With that, a gleam came to that horizontal eye. Elongated fingers reached out for the controls, a course was set and the Malice vanished into the maw of the universe.

Yet as the portal at the heart of nothingness closed…

”Hmmm. That was even easier than I remembered”


:CON: End of Part Five :CON:
Last edited by AllNewSuperRobot on Sat Mar 17, 2018 10:24 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Re: The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Thu Mar 15, 2018 3:45 pm

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
Chapter Finale: Law of the Jungle

Cybertron – Space Bridge Control


Tigatron: ”The great and terrible Megatron, we meet again!” The Cat Bot sneered. While stepping down from the rubble of the gateway, his aim remained ever true, much to Megatron’s annoyance.

Megatron: ”Ahh Yess, Pussy Cat! It has been a long time. Yess. How far we’ve come. Across space and time and all the way back to Cybertron itself! It’s almost poetic.”

Tigatron began to charge the Riot Cannon. Betraying nothing visible on his face but utter hatred for his opponent. “Yet you will go no further” The Tiger openly bearing his fangs.

Megatron knew his foe was far more volatile than he was comfortable with. He needed to stall, buy time to find a way out of his apparently imminent demise.



Megatron: ”In that case I.. Surrender” The declaration echoed loud and clear throughout the great hall. The faint bleeps of the Space Bridge console and the slight crackle of the fire previously known as Waspinator, the only other sound within earshot.
“Here I am. Cast down, at your feet and your mercy. Literally and figuratively disarmed. Defeated once more. Arrest me, Maximal!” The pointed inflexion used seemed briefly stir something long lost in the once noble Tiger. Yet his eyes swiftly grew darker once more. He preceded two steps closer to his target. Flinching occasionally from his wounds, without overt signs of weakness. A plan began to form in the Predacon’s mind. He edged back, ever so slightly.

Tigatron: ”Arrest? Arrest you!? The Tiger chuckled mirthlessly. “Primal isn’t here. The Elders are not here. Only me and you.” A quick check on the cannon revealed the charge at 75%. Maximum charge should only take a click or two he thought aloud.

Megatron: ”That is your role is it not? That of the Noble Hero! Much like the other wardens of my cage. If you had wanted my death, all you had to do was release me back to the Tri-Predacus Council, much as you did with Ravage.”
Tigatron advanced a single step. He was now midway across the gangway, still several paces away from Megatron.
Tigatron: ”Primal is one of the best of us. He beseeched the Maximal Elders on your behalf. He told them here with us would be the only way you would see fair and just trial for your crimes. Imprisonment and not execution would grant true justice for what you have wrought.”
Megatron: ”Ever the weak-willed fool” Megatron mocked in open derision. Tigatron’s eyes narrowed and with a flash, his last remaining defensive missile fired. The launcher on Megatron’s left shoulder exploded, blinding him in one eye. Now with no weapons remaining, his gritted his teeth in anger.

Tigatron: ”There is the arrogant monster I remember!” He advanced four paces. His vision reduced, Megatron was quickly calculating a new plan, when beyond his enemy he briefly observed a single sparking claw reaching up from underneath the gangway. ”Know this Megatron! You will die this day. The only option left to you is on the manner of that death. When this weapon is fully charged, even one as powerful as you will be vapourised. As it stands now, it could cause enough damage for you to slowly bleed out here. We are alone here. You are too injured to transform and there are no more subordinates to save you.”

Megatron: ”Grrrr, So what do you want in exchange for this “mercy”, Pussy Cat?”
Tigatron: ”Give me a number”
Megatron: ”Whaa?”
Tigatron: ”How Many?”
Tigatron took four more steps. Megatron could now clearly observe down the charging barrel of the cannon that meant certain doom. ”How many was enough? Snowstalker. Airazor. Dinobot. Transmutate. Transquito’s insurrection, The Mutant/Fuzor conflict. Even they, you manipulated into exterminating each other. Who wanted no part in our war! They wanted nothing more than from us than a peaceful land to call their own. Over and over, the dead continued to pile at the feet of your insane ambition for ten stellar cycles. SO TELL ME MEGATRON!” Fury palpable in his eyes “Be they Maximal or Predacon and all inbetween, how many had to die on that world for you to be satisfied!?” Megatron edged back one more time.
Megatron: ”Hmmm. Clearly as many of yours as it took. The rest however, were always acceptable losses!” With that Megatron began to laugh.
Tigatron howled and with sudden ferocity struck Megatron’s head to the floor with the cannon. The Predacon spat three teeth onto the floor, Energon dripped from his mouth. He turned back to the Cat Bot and smiled.
Tigatron: ”You are insane. Look at you. Even at your end, with no more tricks to save you, you show no remorse for what you have caused. You instead try to slink away, like a coward, thinking I was too distracted to notice?” The Riot Cannon is raised once more, aimed point blank at Megatron’s head. “End of the line. The charge is complete. The Beast Wars are truly over, Megatron! You lose!” He took aim down the sight of the cannon.
Megatron: ”After all this time, you think me a coward??”
Tigatron hesitated. The mistake would be his last.
Megatron: ” I wasn’t trying to crawl away. I was trying to lure you in and also… Gain Purchase!”
He paused again.
Angled as he was on the ground and without arm or pauldron on his right hand side, Megatron aimed and fired the remaining VTOL jet at full power straight at his Maximal foe. Tigatron dropped the cannon as he screamed out in pain. His organic components engulfed in flames, staggering back into the gangway, he felt four flaming claws burst through his chest. From behind him loomed Snapdragon. His fading spark exposed from a gaping chest, he spat his final words into Tigatron’s ear.

Snapdragon: ”It was all worth it! Eating your tiger, killing Bird! Now I go to the Pit! With a smile on my lips! I broke your noble spirit!” A final laugh and with his other hand, the Enforcer reached around and dug his claws into Tigatron’s burning abdomen, as he dragged them both back to the edge of the gangway.
Unobserved and rising finally to his feet, Megatron picked up the Riot Cannon and took aim at the pair. “Yess. If oblivion is what you seek, allow me to help you both on your way”
He showed no hesitation in pulling the trigger.
As the blast took the last of Tigatron’s pain away, he quietly uttered his final words.
“Airazor, wherever you've gone, my spark will find yours.”
In a blinding flash, the Tiger and Komodo Dragon were gone. The strong survived. The law of the jungle upheld. Megatron turned, disconnecting the Transwarp cell from the Waspinator pyre and with only one hand, slowly set to work.

Meanwhile, at the opposite end of the corpse filled corridor leading the Space Bridge, a small wolverine entered the scene from a ceiling vent above in search of his friend, Stripes…

End of Chapter One
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Re: The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Fri Mar 16, 2018 6:45 am

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
Appendix


Following the close out of every chapter I will go into some of the references made. These were earlier works existing only as notes and random drawings. Nothing relevant to be added here, outside of this context.

The War


The Beast Wars of this reality were waged for ten stellar cycles (ten years). I thought a decade of entrenched warfare was long enough to include the full roster. This falls in between Beast Wars Part 1 and The Agenda Part 2. I took part inspiration for this from the disappointing average PSOne BW game. Wherein it went into detail on how the planet became carved up into separate bases, battlefields and mining operations. Making the War planet-wide and not merely skirmishes around the Axalon and Darksyde.

Snapdragon


Failing to secure Tigatron, Megatron was rendered unconscious in the battle and cast adrift on an ice flow, unobserved by Maximal or Predacon. He drifted across the ocean with an undetermined amount of time before regaining consciousness. Bot Mode damaged he remained in Beast Mode to conserve energy while trapped in the middle of the sea with his communicator disabled due to his own stratospheric dampening field satellite. He eventually reached a shoreline and made landfall. He didn't recognise to the area as one mapped out by his Fliers and was unsure of how to proceed.
By chance he discovered an empty Stasis Pod and was quick to scavenge the tech he needed for repairs and to boost his Comms signal. He was completely unaware he was being hunted by Tigatron, tracking his scent over great distance. Discovering a small cache of Energon crystals nearby, he was able to rig the Pod as a makeshift CR Chamber. Just as he was about to enter, he was quickly surrounded by several Komodo Dragons. Still in T-Rex form and too depleted to transform and engage his weapons, Megatron made an animalistic show of force, of which the largest Dragon was the only one to not hesitate and engaged the larger foe.
The battle raged for sometime until after having slain the remaining Dragons, when Megatron spoke, the Lead Dragon replied. Megatron transformed and 'Snapdragon' emulating Megatron's actions, did the same. Respecting Megatron's power, Snapdragon agreed to guard his recuperation and guide him out of these lands, of which Snapdragon had ruled alone with his kind for "some time".

While within the pod, Megatron was discovered by Tigatron. Realising that by taking one shot at the exposed Energon crystal, the feedback would end the Predacon leader, Tigatron raised his weapon.. and hesitated. A large reptile lunged from a secret location to his left and bit Tigatron's gun in half. A fierce battle began between the two. Snapdragon bore nothing but hatred for the noble nature of his enemy, hesitating over so simple and potentially war ending, a choice. Tigatron refused to assail a defenseless opponent. This declaration seemed to anger the Dragon even more and after a cheap shot blindsided the Tiger, Snapdragon moved in for the kill. On instinct, Tigatron blasted Snapdragon in the face with his defensive missiles and the Dragon was flung into the harbouring ice flow, before sinking into the ocean.
Megatron awoke to Tigatron viewing him through the window, he went to rise but was trapped in the pod. Tigatron had disabled the lock. Informing him of this, the wounded Maximal left the area to re-join Snowstalker. At the ocean floor a Komodo Dragon unnaturally ran across the sand for the shore. The image of the Tiger burned in his mind. The Rivalry began.


Transquito's Insurrection


Transquito was Megatron's number 3, beneath Scorponok. Air force commander to Scorponok's Ground force commander. He was also a "Bug-bot", considered a subset looked upon with derision by the non-insect rank and file Predacons. Transquito was oblivious to the double standard, as being a Triple Changer, no one dared mock him to his face. Years go by and he one day accidentally overheard Megatron in a private briefing, tell Scorponok to use the "bugs" as fodder to secure the Bio-Dome, oblivious whether they live or die. Conferring with Insecticon, Jetstorm and others, he was confronted with the truth. Yet also a realisation, the Insect Predacons outnumbered the rest three to one. He began to plan to overthrow Megatron. Knowing the Bugs were the weakest physical troops, aside from himself, Transquito knew to bide his time and wait for the right moment.

Then came the Quantum Surge. The Bug bots were involved in a diversionary assault on the Axalon from it's cliff base. They were being engaged with Cybershark and the seacons when the Surge hit. Being outside they were exposed to a more intense form of the radiation than those in the ships.

Incapacitated as everyone was (yes I wrote that everyone was hit, Transmetal all round) The Seacons sank in the river and the current swept them out to sea. Two things happened to the Bug bots. They were remade Transmetal and also their dormant cloning ability was awoken. Transquito became a Sixchanger, as each of his forms became enhanced by the Surge. Uniquely, the Bug bots became TM Targetmasters of various designs. Suddenly the balance of power shifted and when a 100 strong swarm of TM Bug bots wielding high powered TM weaponry surrounded Megatron alone, shortly after the return of Optimus Primal, Transquito made his demands. Annexation from the Predacons. A third faction was born - The Hive. Having no choice but to agree Megatron lost a potentially devastating number of new TM troops, due to prejudice within his ranks. His anger and bitterness grew as The Hive amassed their own power and territory from Maximal outposts. Transquito believed if he left Predacon territory and forces alone, Megatron would let them live.
He was wrong.
Tricked into mounting a full scale offensive on a Maximal mining operation by Megatron's spy within his ranks (Inferno), the entire triple-cloned Hive army was led into an underground ambush. Inferno's Scavenger clones sealed them inside the main chamber of the mine by filling the tunnels with molten lava. A large Energon crystal set within the cave's centre was rigged with a bomb. Transquito cursed the overhead audio of Megatron as the bomb was detonated and the mine, Hive and the mountain in which they stood was atomised. Death Toll: 600 Bots
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Re: The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Tue Mar 20, 2018 5:05 pm

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
Appendix 2



I wrote:Incapacitated as everyone was (yes I wrote that everyone was hit, Transmetal all round)

*Aside from Dinobot. Which only heightened his pathos by Code of Hero.

The Mutant/Fuzor Massacre


Early in the War, a hidden chamber was ejected from the Darksyde as it crashed into the Planet's atmosphere. Containing four experimental Stasis Pods. This compartment was cloaked however, so it went unnoticed by Megatron and his immediate crew.
They were prototypes. Secured to the vessel by order of the Tripredacus Council.
Receiving word of Megatron's upcoming hijacking of the ship by Tarantulas, the order was given to stow the test subjects onboard. To be awoken after a certain period of time had passed and record live combat data against all non-designated Cybertronians. The only designated 'friendlies' were the Council themselves.
The four volunteers were a field test for a new hyper-reactive Transformation Cog. Adaptive altmodes, to engage and overcome any and all threats. Unfortunately, the chamber crashed in the midst of a violent Energon storm. The radiation super charged the T-Cogs while the overload then fused them inoperable.

The "Mutants" as they came to be known, emerged from the wreckage and immediately deployed into two reconnaissance teams. From opposite vantage points, they all observed a battle between the Maximals and Predacons. Assessing the capabilities of each faction, Ice Bird - Their commander - gave the order to engage and eliminate the field commanders of each faction. By Surprise attack, the Mutants made short work of the low level troops engaged in the skirmish. Dinobot did his best to fight off two of the Mutants but was incapacitated by a stealth attack from Ice Bird. Megatron was first to retaliate to this new threat. Deploying his full arsenal of weaponry directly at the Mutants, he was able to damage two of them. Yet he was confused as to where these unknown, yet powerful animals had come from? With only Primal and Megatron active in the battle, Ice Bird then gave to order to Transform and attack.. Only for a surge of pain to strike all four down.
Megatron charged his cannon to destroy the disabled foes, when they shifted into a secondary Beast Form. Savage and mindless and very big. Megatron lost an arm in the conflict against the giant mad Bear Ice Bird had become. It was only the quick thinking of Primal in using a salvaged Transformation Lock Lens were the feral Mutants subdued. Megatron, also struck by the blast and still damaged, evaded capture in the confusion.

Primal approached the incapacitated Beasts and for a moment a Cybertronian face emerged from each. They expressed their thanks at Primal's actions and were aware of some fundamental malfunction in their superstructure from the crash. More troubling in that their internal processors didn't recognise any such problem. Scans from Rhinox confirmed not even a CR Chamber could repair them and given their unnatural genetic alteration, it was beyond his ability to even try. The Mutants decided to isolate themselves and try to find their own answers. Warning the Maximals that while their feral modes were beyond their control, should anyone attempt to pursue or enlist them, those modes would be turned on all. How much of their past programming they were still aware of, was unclear.

Years went by and The Mutants all but vanished into the wilderness. They would be occasionally spotted in the distance at key points in the War. Last seen taking refuge from the Planet Buster deep within a vast network of caves in neutral/unclaimed territory.


At this point, the Fuzors began to appear around the globe. At first bolstering the ranks of both sides. Over time their unusual nature began to isolate them. With the death of Transmutate, Fuzors on both sides decided they needed to flee this conflict. Learning from the mistakes of Transquito's overt insurrection, through secret meetings all but the most die-hard Fuzors agreed to simply renounce their factions and quietly slip away, one at a time. They would later reassemble at a neutral location. Megatron could not accept such loses for a second time and decided on a plan eliminate all remaining non-combatants as an example to the rest.

Adapting a virus created by the late Scorponok into his latest Lock Lens, Tarantulas creates a deadly pulse bomb to accomplish Megatron's plan. On recon in the Darksyde, Rattrap, Snarl and Packrat discover the bomb and where it will be used. Part way through their escape however, they were discovered by Rampage. Packrat was immediately torn in half in the battle. Snarl tried to use his stealth field to ambush Rampage but is ruthlessly trampled by a waiting Snapdragon. A dying Packrat implores his commander to escape and warn Primal, before he activates two demolition charges to force his decision. Rattrap accelerates from Predacon territory at full speed, as a third of the Darksyde is engulfed in a brilliant explosion.

A faked message to parley a peace treaty between the Fuzors and Mutants lures them all out into the open plains near the remaining Standing Stones. Meanwhile in the upper atmosphere, Thruster Mode engaged, Laserbeak drops the bomb on target. In a flash, Bot Modes become disabled and Berserker Fury rages from within. By the time the Maximals arrive, The Mutants are no more. Quickstrike and Silverbolt becoming the last of the Fuzors. Death Toll: 104
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Re: The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Fri Mar 23, 2018 10:06 am

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
Appendix 3


Divisions


At the dawn of the conflict, both Primal and Megatron were fast to re-evaluate their troops and divide them into squads and battalions based on the attributes of their Beast forms. After the Quantum Surge struck, previous territorial skirmishes escalated rapidly. The Transmetal process seemed to enhance the die-cast nature of the Cybertronian sub groups. Squads en masse receiving the same adapted secondary form.

Jungle Cats/Large Mammals - Enhanced Flight Mode
Pterosaurs/Dinosaurs/Lizards - Enhanced Thruster Mode
Marsupials - Ancillary Combat Mode
Arachnids - Cycle Mode
Insects - Weaponry Mode
Flying Insects - Jet Mode
Crustaceans - Tank Mode
Rodents - Vehicle Mode
Sealife/Amphibians - Secondary Aquatic Mode

There were some anomalies and Individual Beast Modes that were beyond this classification such as Snapper, the Tortoise. Who other that doubling in size, gained a secondary form of Cybertronian Bomber Jet.

As well as Transquito, the Triple Changer. Wherein each of his forms received an additional expansion. Becoming a Six Changer.

Inferno and his Scavenger clones also gained a unique Transport Mode, in contrast to the other Transmetal Insects. An enhancement Tarantulas was unable to account for.

Rhinox' Transmetal form being created through artificial experimentation after the Quantum Surge, also exempts his superstructure from the same pre-defined casting.

End of Chapter One Appendix
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Re: The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Wed Mar 28, 2018 4:25 pm

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
Chapter Two – All Good Things…

Part One: Return to Cybertron

Earth: The War

The Axalon

Five Stellar Cycles Ago…

Dinobot: ”Hrmm. It may yet be upto to me...”

Sentinel: ”Online. Ancillary Datatrax link detected.”

Dinobot: ”Computer, download and encrypt secondary Datatrax for back-up transfer to Sub-Sector 18.”

Sentinel: ”Acknowledged. Establishing connection to Axalon outpost Delta. Link Confimed. Datatrax encryption complete. Delta System Access Code required...”
Dinobot: ”Access Code: Clone Two”

Sentinel: ”Server access granted. Download complete.”

Dinobot: ”We can control our own destiny… But not our fate… Dwelling on those words, Dinobot took little comfort or solace within them.

To conclude his affairs, Dinobot makes a final entry into the Axalon’s system files

Sentinel: ”Record of data transfer, deleted.”

Soon after, The War came to an end. Although not without great sacrifice…

Optimus Primal, hero of the Beast Wars.
Received the greatest of welcomes upon his triumphant return to Cybertron. Full honours for both himself and his crew. Although the general population would never be privy to the full account of the Maximal Commander’s adventures, they were told enough to warrant celebration.
Some of his crew chose not to remain on Cybertron however. Tigatron, still largely inconsolable with grief, departed for present day Earth. To retrieve the marker he had left in remembrance of his lost love. Rhinox also departed, being given his own command as Chief Science Officer of Fortress City on Nebulos. Cybershark and the rest of the Seacons, were dispatched to Garrus-12 as a new security detail under Commander Depth Charge. There to make sure Protoform X will remain in Stasis Lock indefinitely.

The rest of Primal’s crew, through their shared experiences of simply surviving the ten stellar cycle war were instilled with a fierce loyalty to their leader. A leader that kept as many alive as he could. Bringing them all home, as he promised.

Offered his choice of command, Primal decided on the largest Explorer Class vessel he could find. Soon after providing his crew with some much needed R&R, boarded the vessel and took to the stars once more, with Cheetor ever at his side. Eager to continue where he started off with the Axalon so long ago. Rattrap, having been missing since the incarceration of Megatron by the Maximal Senate, rejoined his former crew a deca-cycle into their maiden voyage. To the shock and amazement of everyone, Dinobot was with him.

The Perceptor. An advanced deep space research vessel

Two deca-cycles ago…

Alone in his quarters with nothing but star charts amassed upon his desk, Primal mused on what was to come. Still having difficulty coming to terms with how but one stellar cycle ago, he seemed entrenched in a vicious war of attrition without end. So much loss, so many comrades lost to The Matrix. The personal guilt for every death, sometimes felt too great a burden for him to endure. Yet endure he did. He remembered all their names, their faces and honoured who they were.

Sentinel: ”Incoming transmission from Nebulos”
The Axalon’s AI now retrofit to his new vessel. At least one holdover from the War Primal took comfort in.

“Rhinox?” Primal mused.
A smile returned to his face, his mood lightened if only for the moment. ”Sentinel, put him through”. A truer friend he couldn’t wish for. How many would travail death itself to save you from an evil end? Their exchange lasted for several mega-cycles….

Rhinox: ”And that’s when Ironhide threw him through a wall”

Primal: ”Ahahaha! Well sometimes he can have that effect. But…”

Rhinox: ”..How does he measure up? It’s him Optimus. It’s Dinobot! I don’t know The How, but I’ve run every test and there is no mistake in these results. The Transmetal body is new of course. The fact my scanners identify him as Maximal is yet another piece to the puzzle.”

Primal: ”Neither he nor Rattrap seem very forthcoming with the details either. I don’t understand why and what they are both hiding, from us especially.”

Rhinox: ”It changed him, you know that. The death of Dinobot. Losing his Junkions. He withdrew from us more and more with every lost spark. “

Primal: ”Packrat and Snarl… He blames himself because they were under his command. There was nothing more he could have done… other than die with them. The guilt of a commanding officer a sentiment Primal recognised all too well.

Rhinox: ” I almost think he would have been preferred that outcome.” Despondency over such a notion, echoed in his tone. He couldn’t help but pity his one time best friend. To a large extent, Rattrap ultimately became another casualty of the Beast Wars.

Primal: ”I want to go home!” Primal suddenly interjected. “Sorry, I… For the last few mega-cycles, maybe longer, my thoughts keep drifting back to Cybertron. It’s like a compulsion, like something is…”

Rhinox: ”..Wrong? I’ve been feeling it too. In fact, a lot of the staff here have been talking amongst themselves about strange visions, dreams and even hallucinations of home lately.” Tension began to fill the distance between the two friends.

Primal: ” Too much to dismiss as coincidence. Yet what kind of force could compel so many, at such long range?” Primal’s curiosity, giving way to a growing apprehension.

Rhinox: ”It gets worse. Whatever this is, there is possibly technology at play on a scale beyond my experience. We had a situation yesterday. Fortress sounded an alert. Instructing all personnel into launch stations, prior to immediate flight to Cybertron.”

Primal: ”That’s impossible! Fortress was decommissioned into City Mode after the Great War. His spark reassigned. Other than a menial shell program, Fortress shouldn’t be able to issue any alerts, let alone leave Nebulos!?”

Rhinox: ”Primus only knows if the feedback from the disabled T-Cog hadn’t rebooted the system, what would have happened. We’ve run every test and can’t find what happened or how it did.”

Primal: ”Well isn’t that just prime! I’m currently out of range for communication with Cybertron. But we need answers to this mystery. It could be some kind of situation or planetary threat?”

Rhinox: ”Or a trap. Be careful Optimus, I wouldn’t want to… Huh? Fortress long-range sensors have detected an unscheduled Transwarp portal just activated within the Solar system. Keep me informed, I gotta go!” The transmission cut short. Primal briefly sat in the dark and the quiet, trying to unravel the mystery. He then engaged the intercom.


Primal: ”Dinobot, this is Optimus. Begin stasis pod reactivation sequence. We may have a situation and I think we’re going to need to whole crew active and ready for anything.”

Epilogue – The War

The Darksyde - The Last mega-cycle

Smoke and flame snaked from his eyes and mouth. Fractyl collapsed dead to the floor. A lone wound punctured his torso, his spark extinguished.

Rampage: ”Any further interruptions?”

The assembled Predacons fell deathly still. Their optics flicking between the dead scientist and the imposing warlord, smoking weapons in hand.
Rampage: ”Excellent. Well, mighty Predacons, there is good news and… bad news. The bad news is that Megatron, our “great” leader, has been captured and the Maximals appear to have commandeered the Heavy Cruiser from Cybertron” He gave pause, for dramatic effect. Savouring the palpable fear in the air. ”In turn we are getting reports, that various outposts and defence platforms have been subsequently engaged and destroyed. Those manning the stations not outright scrapped are being imprisoned in stasis onboard.”

Laserbeak motioned to speak, Rampage’s gaze fell upon him and he thought better of it.

Rampage: ”So now for the good news. The Heavy Cruiser will be here within one mega-cycle. In absence of Megatron, I will be taking command of the counteroffensive. Yes, fellow Predacons, although we number less than 20 warriors, we will engage to enemy vessel in open combat! Since his departure, I took the liberty of… “Securing” Megatron’s quarters and in doing so, I have reclaimed my spark. Your new leader is now fully restored!!

Snapdragon: ”Crab-Boss now invincible again!” The enforcer cheered, without concern. ”What about us? We’ll die…”

Giving a nod of respect, Rampage responded. ”I see. You’re in need of incentive? Very well. I am going outside to engage the Maximals. Make no mistake I will survive the conflict. However, upon my return, any of my loyal followers I find did not join me on the battlefield, I will keep alive only long enough so their optics can observe my consuming their still pulsing sparks!” Menace and conviction oozed with every word. ”What are you more afraid of? Failing to follow the orders of your unstoppable and merciless commander? Or one lone Cruiser: Host to a measly squad of Maximals? Hmhmhm Choose wisely!”

The Predacons sprang as one into action. Darksyde defences manned and weapons primed. Waspinator and Snapdragon were the last to leave to command room, when a voice from the CR tanks drew their attention. A mysterious figure emerged from the shadows of the machinery, stepping over the former Flier’s corpse to greet the two. This was Mysterious, in that the lone Bot, although Predacon, appeared Techno-organic, without sign of Transmetal. Such a sight, Waspinator thought unseen for many Stellar Cycles.
It spoke in a cold, clear tone “My name is Iguanus. You are Waspinator and Snapdragon. Rampage is leading you all on a suicide mission for his own sick amusement. I have been sent here to offer you a counter offer, by my associates.”

Snapdragon’s senses became near preternaturally enhanced by the Quantum Surge, they detected something… amiss about the small Lizard-Bot. Motioning to Waspinator, claws were raised and weapons drawn. A flicker from the stranger’s eye and both Predacons became paralysed, drawn to hover before the unknown invader.

Iguanus: ” Ever predictable. Psychic transmission to Terrorcon in 3, 2, 1!”

The two Predacons were suddenly… elsewhere. A place without tone, contrast or form. Yet they were aware of being.

Before them loomed a giant, imposing figure, dwarfed atop a throne of liquid shadow. Detail was hard to discern save for two long horns protruding vertically from the head. Two hands, interlocked with eight extended and gnarly fingers. Saved as though for last, one glowing horizontal eye drew in their optics. A voice, both alien and threatening suddenly began. Inciting an unconscious and primeval fear, which pervaded the air, even in Snapdragon.

Terrorcon: ”Megatron will be imprisoned on Cybertron in one deca-cycle. You will both aid in his escape and bring him here before us.” The command of these words compelled acquiescence.

Snapdragon: ”Crab-Boss will slag us first!” The Enforcer spat in frustration. ”No choice but final sortie…” Resignation to certain death visible in their combined features. Those elaborate fingers clicked and Waspinator’s torso filleted open, without harm. A Transwarp cell appeared from nothing and interwove within his superstructure. The process complete, the torso resealed itself.

Terrorcon: ”Now leave for Cybertron. When you arrive, an agent shall greet you. Heed her instruction, as though my own. Megatron is to arrive before us within four deca-cycles hence. So is the will of Terrorcon! Succeed and The Tiger is yours, Snapdragon. Likewise, you shall attain the peace you seek, Waspinator. Now be gone…”

They both awoke on the ground, before the CR Tanks. Deafening sounds of the battlefield shook the world around them. Waspinator paused and with a moment’s concentration, transformed to jet mode and opened a localised Transwarp shunt. Each Bot quick to notice a new faction symbol on the other, then made good their escape.

:PREDACON: End of Part One :PREDACON:
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Re: The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Mon May 07, 2018 2:36 pm

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
Part Two: Extinction Event

Cybertron

Megatron was pleased with his work. He had been able to retrofit the Transwarp Cell into an already spliced interface, all with only one hand and his own uncanny ingenuity. Hubris: ever the flaw of the Megatron.

Megatron: ”Yesss, Now the realisation of this little misadventure draws near. My freedom rests once more within my grasp. Hmmmm. While it may not my best work, nooo, it is suitable, for the task at hand. One quick charge to the Space Bridge before the feedback will leave no trace. ”
Focusing on the panel itself, Megatron made connection directly with the Maximal database. The pre-installed co-ordinates of his mystery benefactor were unknown to even Cybertron’s database. A small grain of doubt began to grow in Megatron’s mind with this discovery. Tripredacus were certainly not above such a ruse to lead him away from the relative safety of Maximal imprisonment. An encounter he was unprepared for and would doubtlessly lead to his end. He needed options…

Megatron: ”Computer: confirm connecting space ports to this facility.” The built in A.I. bleeped into life. A digitised Maximal Symbol phases onto the prior void of the screen.

AI: ”Online. One spaceport detected in immediate vicinity. Located three levels above current location. Confirmed one Maximal shuttle currently docked, under command of LT. Tigatron.”

A smile fell upon the face of the Predacon General. Fate was with him once more. Although alongside that irony, concern grew on his mind. Tigatron was a competent squad commander, emphasis on ‘squad’. He may have gone on ahead of his team, most likely due to word of Snapdragon’s involvement, but they would be nearby. The potential candidates gave no solace. In his current state any would be problematic. The Cybertron-based Security feared him due to the unknown properties of Transmetalisation. The Maximals under Primal understood all too well. It was at that point, alone and reflective, that Megatron acknowledged the sorry state of his body.

His right arm was gone. His internal mechanics exposed along that side from the cauterised blast wound. No Tail Cannon or defensive missiles. One optic disabled. The surprise attack against Tigatron had burnt out his right VTOL thruster also. Transformation impossible and Stasis Lock advisable. In such a state, would he even survive a Space Bridge shunt? The Maximal shuttle was beginning to look far more an appealing option.
His work done, using the Riot Cannon for leverage eased himself back onto his feet. He turned his attention to the weapon. “I wonder if you would appreciate the irony, my honoured Namesake? The greatest weapon the Maximals possess is modelled to resemble your own? They acknowledge what the mere sight of this weapon represents to our people, on both sides: Power and Respect. Yesss” It was at that point, Megatron briefly paused, a glimpse of movement caught behind him in the reflection of the Riot Cannon. He spins instantly and fires three times….

Click, click, click…

“Ah…noooo” Megatron realised the problem. While the Riot Cannon was a powerful weapon, designed to evoke the threat of the Decepticon Leader, it did not reflect his level of power. The final full power charge had completely depleted the weapon. Now just a worthless bar of metal. Seeing no further movement within the room, he dismisses the sight as his own growing paranoia.

“Goodbye, Noble Megatron. If all goes well, I will see you very soon.” With that final regard to the weapon, Megatron tosses the cannon over the edge of the gangway. All at once, like lightning, a small figure lunges from the shadows. Ricocheting from the airborne cannon, Megatron only caught sight of a blur of glaring green eyes and shining teeth before the creature was on him.
A desperate struggle ensued. The Predacon thrashed wildly as the creature scrambled about his frame. Teeth and claws rent armour and techno-organic flesh alike. Megatron struggled with his remaining hand, to punch or swat the creature away. The creature zeroed in on his exposed right side and bit down on the edge of his Spark casing. Rage took hold over the pain and Megatron was able to vice-grip the creature, slinging it to impact against the Space Bridge outer shielding. Hurtling through the air, the creature turned to somersault off the shielding wall. All at once, the Wolverine transformed and brought himself gracefully to the ground, with a roll. Rising quickly, twin semi-automatic photon pistols in hand, Overbite assailed Megatron with a barrage of fire. Aimed chiefly at his head and knees, the Predacon was brought low once more.

“Who dares…!? YOU!!!
“Ohh! Well if it ain’t Grape Face?!” Overbite retorted, feigning surprise. “I haven’t seen you in Primus knows how long!” Laser sights focused in on Megatron’s eyes, Overbite continued “So how you been, bub?”

“You… You cost me my War, Runt!” Megatron sneered through gritted teeth. “I was poised for victory and you…” His remaining eye flared with power.
”Huh. All I did was flip a switch and your schemes crumbled… Victory didn’t seem that “poised” to me, bub” Overbite replied mockingly. Holstering one pistol, he reached behind him and threw an electro-restraint to the floor. “Day release is over, Grape Face. You know the drill”.

”I think not, Runt, nooo” Megatron became devoid of expression and rose to one knee, defiant.

”You’ve got no guns, one arm and no more allies” He emphasised, nodding towards the spliced remains of Waspinator.”How arrogant are you to think you can get out of this clean? Not to mention me being a Bounty Hunter and all.” Overbite resumed his aim on Megatron’s head “You’re out of tricks, Megatron. Hand up!”

”Not quite out of tricks” Once more, Megatron smiled. Gesturing towards his raised hand, Megatron winked at Overbite “…if you insist.” A flash and suddenly the Maximal seemed to have fallen to the floor. Confused, he failed to acknowledge the miniature Lock Lens within Megatron’s palm. Not to waste an opportunity against a powerful opponent, Megatron lunged towards the dazed Wolverine and using his remaining Left thruster to boost his momentum, landed a kick that sent the Maximal arching over the gangway, straight through a vent in the far wall.

Ignition.

The Space Bridge activated in a blinding surge of light. The pulse likewise rippled through the sound barrier too.

”Well, this was all very exciting, but it is time I took my leave. Yesss! In three cycles, the feedback pulse will incinerate this entire area regardless. However, I can no longer afford the gamble. Nooo. The shuttle escape it is. I will track these co-ordinates in my own good tim-“

Loud voices suddenly sparked from the far end of the gangway. The Security Team had arrived! “It’s Megatron! All grunts attack!! Do not allow him to escape!” The Team Leader bellowed. With that, ten Riot Cannons opened fire in unison…

“Noooo!” Megatron roared in frustration, doing his best to evade the latest weapons turned against him. His options were spent. Now only the Space Bridge remained. He lunged to this left for the glowing Space Bridge entrance. Three, four direct hits upon him before he reached his goal. Two bolts into his exposed right side. As he made contact with the event horizon, Stasis Lock took him and he knew no more of Cybertron. Meanwhile by the time the Security Team reached the Space Bridge console, all present were consumed in a profound blast wave that shook the planet itself. Three cities and five sub-levels were atomised. Great quakes wrecked havoc across what remained. The energy and debris from the fallout clung to the atmosphere as a mocking aurora of light for many cycles. The mark of the Last Megatron…



:PREDACON: End of Part Two :PREDACON:
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Re: The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Sun May 20, 2018 9:47 am

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
Part Three: Gaiden

The Malice

Flames flickered from their eyes and his guards were instantly dead. Iguanas stepped out from his cell, his remote sentry gun re-coupled to his rifle stock. A look of distain flashed across his features as the corpses dissolved into the ground, the very ship itself. ”Nothing ever wasted, after all...” a mocking tone in his voice, to no one in particular. Switching to Beast Mode, he made his gauntlet run once more.

Left, up, down, down, forty-three paces forward, right, down, left, down.

The immediate route through the maintenance ducts was logged in his head. Eating through the left exterior grating on the fifth most wall panel from his cell door, Iguanas set himself to minimal power with no audio or optics, achieving his full stealth mode and he vanished. All achieved within one cycle, much to the frustration of the heavily armed security force that arrived near immediately from the station via silent alarm. ”Command, this is Scion. Our guest is en route once more. While his goal remains the same, this is now logged as escape route 12. Initiate internal structural revision upon his re-capture.” At transmissions end, the Neocon Heralds returned to their posts. The doors closing behind them signalled auto-architectural correction. The first advancement of Neocon technology: malleable internal infrastructure. Three directions before his exit point, the ground gave way beneath Iguanas and he plummeted into the void. In spite of his surprise at this attempt being cut so short, he knew what comes next.

“TERRORIZE!” He bellowed, transforming instantly into a defensive position. Rifle charged to full power, single shot mode. His optics target assessed the pillar of liquid shadow before him. A thick line of jet-black stretching vertically forever, the only focal point in the sheer expanse of light that marked the throne room of Terrorcon. As he drew closer, Iguanas sensors mapped out three forms being debriefed by Terrorcon directly. He approached from behind the throne, Terrorcon only visible by a chilling hand protruding from the arm of the black throne.

”He does not want to talk to you. Failure has its price” A voice whispered into his mind. From within the liquid void, a pair of azure eyes fell upon him.

”There is no need for speech, mystic.” His tone was cold, but respectful. ”Our business is concluded. I require my body to be returned now, so I may take my leave.” He stood from crouching, holstered his weapon and walked purposefully towards Terrorcon. The eyes shone and a fierce, near intolerable pain struck him down to his very spark. His reflex to such an attack unloaded a salvo of defensive missiles and laser blasts towards the throne. A growing pulse blast repelled them all. She emerged from the pillar. Suddenly in a feat judged impossible to Iguanas logic based sensors, he leg seemed to cover the vast gulf between them and a kick to his head sent him tumbling backwards. To his further, continued surprise, his unparalleled targeting array could not scan her form below a surface view.

Her foot was now down on his back, pinning him to… nothing?
”You will return to your cell until The Great One summons you again. Is that understood Worm?” Her imperious tone denoted royalty. Her powers incited fear and respect from the very few aware of her existence within this room. All save for Terrorcon, who did not know fear but respected power.

”I am Iguanas, wretched trickster! I am the most feared assassin of the 26th Century. No contract has ever survived an encounter. You know this and that I am, myself, an Omega Class Transmetal telekinetic.” There was no bragging or arrogance to his words, merely the matter of fact reassurance of confidence in himself and his abilities. ”Yet although these ‘Neocons’ are a faction I am unfamiliar with, you are neither one of them, nor known to my datatracks” His eyes narrowed on her near-featureless face. Nothing else save for those azure eyes. Her body language betrayed nothing. He continued to probe.

”I have already deduced you to be a Decepticon. Your diecast form leads to no other conclusion. A… Gun-Class mold too. Yet Datatracks list only four from the creation data of Cybertron.” An almost imperceptible movement of her shoulders, Iguanas would take for mild surprise. He smirked at the idea.

”Your Transmetal body will not be returned” She chided him for his presumption.

”The deal with The Great One was based upon the completion of your mission. You failed. So the deal is rescinded.” With a surge of blinding rage, Iguanas unleashes preternatural strength and throws the Decepticon five times his size, from on top of him. Stunned, shaking her head, she looks up to see Iguanas gun barrel straight in her face. ”You couldn’t work it out could you, my Transtector technology? I can feel the test you perform on my body, you see.” Her gaze cast down with the discovery. ”Before I extract the location of my body from you, which I will, it is part of my skillset. You will sate my curiosity” Although not close enough to regain control of his body, Iguanas was able to access his innate telekinesis, that his techno-organic form was too weak to store. His eyes glowered and her transformation cog was forcibly activated. His smile at her pain dropped to gasp at the revelation of her form. Although she was not specifically referenced, that weapon was…

Image


Before he could process the mystery revealed before him, his entire form was subsumed within the binding grip of the hand of Terrorcon. Brought face to face with That eye, he soon awoke from his stasis lock in a new cage. He even appeared to seemingly now be within a completely different area of the ship. Settling back down onto the floor, he re-engaged his tracking sensors. The foot falls of the crew of the ship unknowingly plotting out his immediate surroundings for him. He now also had a new puzzle to occupy his thoughts. Who was this purple mystic and how did he not know?

:CON: End of Part Three :CON:
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Re: The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Sat Aug 25, 2018 9:27 am

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
Hiatus


You might have noticed? Unfortunately I have two long term illnesses that tend to overlap. One I receive Hospital treatments for. When it triggers, the other leaves me bedridden and miserable for days to weeks. As such my presence online does fluctuate. Anyway back to Rebellion...

So one of the concepts I really love within Transformers is the aspect of escalation. Gestalts, Triple-Changers, Six-Changers, City Bots, Planet Bots, Headmasters, Targetmasters etc etc Even down to the idea from the Unicron Trilogy, that any body part of a Transformer can become something greater.

This idea that anything of Cybertron can be a Transformer - Robots in Disguise ;) - brought me back, time and again, to the gun Megatron used to kill Prime in The Movie.

After a while, instead of ruminating on who the gun belonged to, I started to think maybe the gun itself was someone. As quickly as the gun was there, Prime's uppercut connects with Megatron and it vanishes completely.

So, around the time Transformers Armada first aired in the UK, I began to plot out character and backstory for the Deep Cover Infiltrator, the elite Decepticon Black-Ops Sniper: Salvo. This character, I would eventually fold into Rebellion itself.


When first created I had no idea Browning or Killaton existed, so I plotted Salvo as The Third Gun-Bot, after Megatron and Shockwave respectively. I decided pretty early on Salvo would be a "she". No real reason behind it other than I noticed I was writing "He" a lot. Now I'm not a proponent of Gender in Transformers. They are a sentient race of alien machines, they should be genderless. So to break up some audio repetition, Salvo became a Fem-Bot. When it came to the look of Salvo, The Movie did the hard part: The Alt-Mode. I worked backwards from that.

Image

In the very first Transformers advertisement (for the Marvel Comic, oddly enough)The above look and movement of Megatron appealed to me. The way he "held" and fired his cannon, was more akin to a rifle and so I applied this design unaltered to Salvo, making it two tone purple with silver highlights. I decided on removing her face though. The helmet and her eyes are the only definition to her head sculpt.

One aspect of Fem-Bots I dislike, is when they are oversexualised. Fresh from watching Beast Wars at the time, the nature of Blackarachnia's design I found quite distasteful. So I went for the opposite approach. Her body is the same Gun-Mold as Megatron, without alteration to chest or hips and she has no face with which human lips etc could be accentuated.

Her telepathy was born from the featureless face. A Deep Cover Infiltration unit wouldn't need a voice and the ability to make noise would be detrimental. Telepathy was the easiest solution. It also served as a means to give her a weakness. My other keen interest in X-Men, gave the idea that telepathy needs skill to control, to be able to focus on one mind and forego all others. Now imagine an alien machine without the means to create those barriers, opting instead to try and process all of that information, logically, at once?
In times of battlefield conflict, wherein Salvo is in the heat of unexpected battle or pursuit (where a sniper does not belong) a paranoid mania would grip her and she would either enter stasis lock or mass murder of all nearby "voices". That weakness being the means Megatron holds sway over someone of a similar level of power and ability. A conceit the original series always depicted as a mutual fear held by the entire Decepticon Army, which seemed a bit implausible.

Thanks for your patience, the next part of Rebellion should be ready for next week ;)^
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Re: The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Wed Dec 26, 2018 4:09 pm

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
One Week Later... :-D

Part Four: Ground Zero

Autobot City: Under siege - 2510

Savage descended from the air. The shockwave of smoke and debris from the fallen colossal arm dispersed from the gusts of mighty wings. With a roar, Savage transformed back into Bot Mode.

Cautious to approach the seemingly inert giant's arm, his measured advance broke into a run at the sight of the still remains of Noble. The long neck and ridged brow of the Red Dragon all that was visible from beneath the immense bulk of the surprise appendage. Dropping to his knees before it, his head bowed and eyes transfixed. Savage eased his hands beneath his friend and gently held him.
In spite of his gentle touch, the remains proved to be the full extent of Noble's deceased form. As the head and neck lifted into Savage' grasp, attached to nothing else. Inconsolable grief soon stoked a growing furnace of merciless pain and rage that grew within the spark of the Titan.

Noble freed Savage from a lifetime of enslavement on an organic world. Wherein he had been sold into forced slavery when his courier shuttle had been disabled by raiders. When a mental restraining bolt had been severed by Noble, Savage soon gave credence to his then chosen name, as a title. Mercilessly slaughtering every single organic inhabitant on the entire planet. Who were no match against nearly a century of now unbound, repressed wrath. Owing a life debt to Noble, he pledged himself to serve and protect his benefactor. Reformatting his form to compliment Noble's majestic image.

Now, his debt lay in failure. He cradled the remains and made a wordless solemn vow to slaughter every last lifeform on this world, before launching himself into the system's solar body in penance. Slowly in the surrounding smoke, the remaining three Maximals took stock of the prostrate and seemingly still form of the Titan... assessing their chances of potential ambush and their limited odds of survival.

Meanwhile in the rubble of Lookout Mountain, Stinkbomb cried out and extended his sensors to maximum range, in search of survivors.

"Hello!! Can anybody hear me in there!?" He beseeched unto the boulders. Something had caused the twin Dragons to halt their assault on the outer defenses and attack this mountain. The action had inadvertently saved his life. As he was moments from being crushed under the oblivious feet of Noble.
He transformed back into Beast mode, in order to cover more ground, without his weight disturbing any potential pockets of safety formed in the rocks below.

The sudden echo of scurrying, and some minor dust drifting into his optic, slowly brought Ramulus back to his senses. He scanned his systems internally. No severe damage detected but he was pinned in with no real room to free himself without bringing a potential mountain of debris on top of his small precarious enclosure. Slight tremors above gave his sensors only vague audio cues as to how much of the mountain was laying above him. It didn't instill him with much confidence. He thought to try his commlink and was very surprised to hear his CO immediately reply.

"Where in the Pit have you been!?!" Prowl bellowed.

"Nice to hear from you too, boss" Ramulus sneered. "I was pretty sure I saw Red take a bite out of you before I got a mountain dropped on me??" An undertone of concern and disbelief barely altered his typically gruff cadence. He was a Wrecker. Sentiment is for lesser bots.

"There is no time for that now. Red has been slain but, Purple is still active! I sent a comm-pulse to Garrus 12, 20 cycles ago. Until then, it's upto you and the others to take him down before he kills the rest of the cities population and dare I say with logical certainty, the humans as well." Prowl. Ever the realist.

"Noble was the leash that kept Savage in check, by Predacon standards at least." Ramulus added to Prowl's words. The Wreckers had extensive dossiers on Ultra Class Predacon threats.

"If he is dead, then I would say you have less than five cycles before Savage goes into overdrive and becomes an unstoppable instrument of destruction, fueled by mindless rage." This realisation prompted Ramulus to focus once more on escape.

"Exactly. So stop playing in a ditch and get to work, Soldier!" Prowl barked. "I didn't think you Wreckers
goofed around on the job so much"
Prowl's sarcastic version of inspiring words, while not the most comforting, appealed most to Ramulus' pride. Which did the trick and gave him an idea. He remembered reading something in the historic datatrax of the Beast Wars. The words of the legendary Tigatron.

Stinkbomb froze in his tracks, raising his head in alarm. The ground, suddenly shook beneath his feet. Again and Again... Suddenly the ground burst open before him and a mighty Cyber Ram leapt to the surface.

"Sitrep. NOW!" The Wrecker commanded. Nervous, the junior officer quickly transformed and saluted his superior, chest puffed out to an unnatural degree. Before bombarded him with words...

"MetroplexarmemergedfromAutobotCityandkilledatleastfifty,includingNobleandPropionica"The gibbering flew at the Wrecker, while the salute and stance were unmoved.
Ramulus rolled his eyes, shook some dirt out of Slagmaker and raised his armed hand. Stinkbomb immediately froze. Ramulus smirked.

Ramulus: "At ease, soldier. Now I already know about Noble. So how many Maximals are still functional within this unit?" The Junior Maximal slouched immediately.

Stinkbomb: "Three, Sir! Cybershark, Panther and Jawbreaker. Technically Four, but Minor was sequestered to manning C&C. Aiding the Governor. Sir!" The tension eased from his form, yet he still couldn't look a Legendary Wrecker in the eye as he spoke.

Ramulus moved forward and placed a hand gently on this green cadet's should "So, Prowl is dead." A rhetorical statement of fact, as opposed to an actual question.
"Yes Sir. Emergency systems brought his back-up Datatrax online as a Sentinel program. But as the city is in critical condition, with any further significant damage or power loss, the Governor is gone for good." The cadet resumed his glance back to the floor.

A sudden roar, shaking their surroundings ended the chatter. Stinkbomb looked back to The Wrecker for support, only to find he was already gone.

Savage had transformed and been engaged by Panther and Cybershark. Jawbreaker already lay in two pieces at the Titan's feet after the failed ambush. Two cycles remained until Savage "Extermination Mode" was engaged. His conscious mind already powering down. This time permanently. His final cognitive act was to enact his self destruct protocol with the death of the last life sign on the planet.

Cybershark:
"That dumb Hyena! I knew this was a bad idea!" The Sharkticon yelled over the screams and torrents of heavy firepower from his foe, to no one in particular.

"Like your plan was any better?" Panther retorted, leaping over the flame breath of the Mad Titan, with dazzling speed and agility. "Orbital bombardment is your solution to everything!" Jumping for cover as Savage swung his tail towards him, shattering a chunk of Metroplex' thumb, with it's recoil.
"Mock me all you want,with my "heavy handed" approach to all situations" Cybershark snapped, before unleashing two Ramora Missiles into the mouth of the Dragon. Who promptly resumed his assault, unhindered. Anti-air cannons on Savage's thighs then impacted Cybershark's jets and he crash beside Panther, Bot Mode assumed as his alt-mode was effectively useless on land.

"If only Prowl could see us now?" Panther muttered sardonically. He began listing their problems with his three fingers, Cybershark fumbling listlessly at his empty blaster. "Pinned by extreme enemy fire. Weapons near depleted. And the advantage of superior speed and agility of our Beast Modes rendered moot, by proximity" Closing his eyes he bowed his head against the City-Bot's severed digit. "Sigh... Shall we rush him?" He leaned his head to one side and observed the Sharkticon. "His increasing footfalls and the near blanket of flame engulfing the edges of this fingertip would indicate he approaches regardless."

The Sharkticon readied the internal self-destruct, native to his people. "We managed to cripple his wings at least. So anywhere he plans on going, will have to be slowly. Too damaged to Transform too Keekekkee" There was almost pride in the Shark as he counted off the positive feats of the battle.

Panther: "For Cybertron?" The Sharkticon scoffed.
Cybershark: "For Quintessa!" The Cat Bot smiled.

"If you Cadets are done shaking in your boots, let's finish this lizard!" A voice announced on their commlinks, as two Riot Cannons dropped behind them.

"WRECK-N-RULE!!"

The communication ceased. As did the Dragon's flame attack when a Cyber Ram suddenly leapt from an overhead footbridge and momentum hammered the creature like a rock into the side of the Dragon's head. His head colliding with the side of the nearby building. the impact having dazed his opponent, Ramulus quickly transformed and unleashed a barrage of shots against the Titan's head. The Shark and the Cat-Bot, spurred into action, broke cover and launched a hail of Fusion blasts from their Riot Cannon's at the dragon's armoured chest.

Autobot C&C

Prowl's face within the HUD, the room's only light source. "Statistical chances are still low.. They don't have enough firepower!" His electronic face shaking his head instinctively.

"If I may Governor, Sir? We have some Demolition Charges here. What about the Sanafar maneuver?" The encyclopedic knowledge of the fledgling archivist Optimus Minor, without equal. Even in a crisis.

"Sanafa..? ..Rattrap" Digital fingers furled Prowl's brow.
"It won't. It can't... It might work?" A thousand computations surged through Prowl's thoughts. "If this is going to work, you had better take them and hurry through sector 4..NOW!" Prowl abruptly ordered.
"But Governor, sir!" Minor interrupted."The C&C is in a critical state. If any collateral damage should hit this building or further affect the City Grid, I will be needed here to mainta..."

Prowl's ethereal image suddenly glowed red.

"Go. The threat of the Titans can be ended now. Today. This is an order" Prowl commanded in a dismissive tone.

"At once, Governor Sir" Minor grabbed the Demolition charges from a nearby cache. He turned and saluted his superior officer, before converting into Beast Mode and leaping through a nearby open window.

"I've lived long enough." Prowl reflected. "C&C, power down!" With that the room fell into darkness and Prowl was no more.



:BOT: End of Part Four :BOT:
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Re: The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Mon Jan 28, 2019 11:39 am

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
Chapter Finale - And with strange aeons

Elsewhere...


"I, awaken?" Megatron's jaw slowly unclenches from the impact of his prior hits. "So what they say is true? A portion of the power expelled through a Space Bridge journey is absorbed directly into your superstructure in transit. Curious, Yesss." Relief slowly fills Megatron's exhausted form.

Super charged by ancestral energy, Megatron impossibly self-revives from Stasis Lock. Due to the mysterious resilience and regeneration of his Transmetal body. He is unaware of whether his sole eye still functions, as there is nothing around him but an endless void of white. Hardly a physical representation of the unknown star system mapped out on Cybertron.

"Wait, What is that??" A spec in the distance suddenly draws the Predacon General's attention. He zooms his vision to the limit of his sole damaged eye. He vaguely observes a long black spire, reaching from the ground to an incalculable distance above. Three forms appear standing at it's base. Seeing no other alternatives, he begins the long walk to his only reference point. Sure this must be the benefactor he is indebted to, and a new potential ally?

Cycles into Mega Cycles, blurring into each other. Megatron's own internal AI, too overexerted from simply holding him together, to process normal functions such as time keeping anymore. He observes two of the forms, humanoid in shape on closer inspection, turn and leave in a flash of perhaps Transwarp light??

"Long time no see, Megatron!" A shrill voice behind him suddenly announces. Startled Megatron spins on his heel, fist raised. His only weapon now. His face drops at the sight of those long dead. Before him stands Terrorsaur and Scorponok, untouched by time. The lost part of his original crew.

Scorponok: "Megatron back, Megatron back!"

Even now, in this place, the incompetent bug still snivels and pines before me. His joined claws shake, his smile beaming his joy. It disgusts me now, as it did then. Terrorsaur, stands.. stoically. A smug scowl, typical for him, casually observes my injured form. Looking for weakness, as ever. Opportunistic fool!.

Terrorsaur puts a hand to his chin, his head tilts to one side. "No" He mutters, shaking his head momentarily. "Now, now, now. This won't do! Not for the MIGHTY MEGATRON!" The bluntness of his seething snark gives Megatron brief pause at his audacity. "Scorponok, if you would do the honours?"

Megatron turns his attention back to his former Second in Command. Who seemingly darkens briefly, claws held together as if in prayer. His lone optic, glows from green to a dazzling white. The light then travels through the contours of his body before reaching his claws. They open in unison and for moments Megatron sees no more. As the light fades he is aware not only of his two hands shielding his vision, but two eyes once more also. He staggers back to observe his form, now fully healed?! Confused Megatron slowly looks up from his hands to the direction of his one time soldiers. Yet things are not as they were.

"What's wrong, Commander?" The snark, ever present. Where once his two troops stood in their former glory, now flaming and molten corpses hang in the air, limply before him. Terrorsaur's head weakly lurches back to speak..

Terrorsaur: "This is how you left us, of course."

He flings his right arm up from his side to point at Scorponok. His form now nothing more than half his torso, one clawed arm and his melted face. The optic, burned out completely. he tries to speak, but no longer has the means to do so.

Megatron: "Weaklings. Weaklings in life and in death!" He spits his accusation to the enfeebled remains. " 'Computer, seal the vents'. That was all you had to say to save yourselves and you had nano-cliks to say it. I was at the epicentre of the Quantum Surge, when it struck. You all had time to prepare defences that I did not. But what did you do? Squander your last moments with your own idiocy." With a mirthless grin, Megatron allows his words to his home, before instantly using his cannon to incinerate what was once Scorponok. Terrorsaur barely had time to process the assault before the claw of Megatron's tail cannon gripped his throat like a vice. With little effort, his head then silently rolled to the floor.

"Losers" Megatron scoffed before crushing Terrorsaur's head beneath his heel. "I grow weary of mind games. BEAST MODE!" He transforms with a roar, for the first time in forever, his VTOL jets then burst into life and the distance between him and the black spire recedes in moments. The ashen remains meanwhile, coalesce into a single pool of pitch black and drains away into a single spec of darkness against the void, as if liquid shadow.

Megatron, now emboldened by his restored prominence, landing without fear immediately before the black spire. It's writhing and pulsating surface belying a construct of solid matter. "MEGATRON TERRRORISE!" He transforms once more, to find no one present. His scans of the liquid spire yield no results. The absence of noise from it's processes was perhaps more deafening than blast of a particle bomb.

"Now! Stand before me." Megatron demanded to the void itself. "You saw to my escape, my restitution and perhaps a brief test of my resolve earlier." Megatron raised his arms aloft, tilting his head up, as though addressing a great crowd "I AM MEGATRON!" his anger building at a lack of audience. "You will show yourself...NOW!!" He screamed, without echo of any kind.

Terrorsaur & Scorponok:

"As you wish!"


Instantly, the tone of the void shifted to red. His two subordinates emerged from nowhere on either side, each holding an arm with preternatural strength. Megatron struggled, yet could not break free. That was when something began to appear from the spire. Something big. Megatron could do nothing but look on with growing fear as a veritable giant began to step into reality itself. A lingering optic that seemed to pierce the Predacon's very spark! Silhouettes began to partially appear around them. A legion of untold number, all began chanting a single word over and over, without end.

"Terrorcon! Terrorcon! Terrrorcon! Terrorcon! Terrorcon! Terrorcon! Terrrorcon! Terrorcon! Terrorcon! Terrorcon! Terrrorcon! Terrorcon! Terrorcon! Terrorcon! Terrrorcon! Terrorcon!...."

Terrorsaur:"Do you want to know the best part?" A whisper Megatron could barely parse.
Scorponok: "Tri-Predacus are dead!" The bug blurted out excitedly, on his other side. "...Sorry" He gave a look of apology over Megatron's shoulder to a scowling Terrorsaur.

Megatron was dumbfounded.

Terrorsaur: "Ahem, indeed. It's like this Megs. Terrorcon here gave you an opportunity to prove your worth. The Maximals held you without trial. They couldn't possibly allow the details of your little war to go public. Yet without that evidence, some among the Maximal Elders were petitioning for your release, and exile. Weak willed fools!" The Flier sneered.

Scorponok: "..With Tarantulas and the Tri-Predacus council dead. In three solar cycles you would have been free. All you had to do was.."

Terrorsaur/Scorponok: "...Nothing!"

Megatron was frozen from the revelation.

Terrorcon: "What you did, however.." A booming ethereal voice snapped Megatron back to the colossus before him. "Was live upto the name of the Megatron. Arrogance, madness, betrayal!"

The trailing of the words all the more poignant as Terrorcon's face now but hung immediately before Megatron's own. His entire upper torso reflected in the omniscient gaze of a single unemotive optic. That gaze then edged upwards, addressing the expectant crowd. "Here ends the last Megatron! There will never be another" A great gnarly hand slowly and purposefully reached towards Megatron. With no options remaining, when faced with an inescapable end of his own making, the great and proud tyrant of Earth.. looks away from his end, closing his optics for the final time.


Amid the cheers, one of the observers steps from shade to form beside Terrorcon. "You will not recycle him, as with all the others?" Salvo posed the question. Terrorcon sits once more upon the great ebony throne, the severed spark of the Megatron pulsed weakly, clutched in between folded palms.

"No. The Transmetal, will join the reformation, as all things must. This little spec, however, will be ensured the fate it deserves...."

"I, awaken?" Megatron's jaw slowly unclenches from the impact of his prior hits. "So what they say is true? A portion of the power expelled through a Space Bridge journey is absorbed directly into your superstructure in transit. Curious, Yesss." Relief slowly fills Megatron's exhausted form.

Super charged by ancestral energy, Megatron impossibly self-revives from Stasis Lock. Due to the mysterious resilience and regeneration of his Transmetal body. He is unaware of whether his sole eye still functions, as there is nothing around him but an endless void of white. Hardly a physical representation of the unknown star system mapped out on Cybertron.

"Wait, What is that??" A spec in the distance suddenly draws the Predacon General's attention. He zooms his vision to the limit of his sole damaged eye. He vaguely observes a long black spire, reaching from the ground to an incalculable distance above. Three forms appear standing at it's base. Seeing no other alternatives, he begins the long walk to his only reference point. Sure this must be the benefactor he is indebted to, and a new potential ally?


:PREDACON: End of Chapter Two :PREDACON:
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Re: The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Sun May 26, 2019 9:21 am

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
Chapter Three: Ripple Effect

Pre-History Earth: The Beast Wars

The Axalon

Primal was proud. Observing in silence from his quarters on-board the Axalon. Through the window, Cheetor was running drills with the troops below, evasive manoeuvres from Beast to Bot Mode and back again. Any flaring tempers - B'Boom - his protege was able to defuse with an ease that many within Maximal Command would struggle to emulate. Rattrap's withdrawal from active command had prompted Primal to consider Cheetor as a C.O. He previously believed the young Cat Bot had potential, yet had shied away from pushing him further, due to his impulsive nature. This choice had yielded such positive results, he felt a little guilty at his prior reluctance.

Movement in the corner of his optic drew him away from his reverie. Battle hardened instinct had him launch a mace with amazing speed to the source. The mace was deftly evaded by the darkness in the corner of the unlit room. Which then seemingly coalesced into the slight form of the Tri-Predacus Agent, Shadow. In truth, a deep cover Maximal Double Agent, known only to the Maximal Elders... and Optimus Primal.

"We have to talk, Commander." The agency in his voice betrayed intent he rarely vocalised. Giving the room a sudden ominous air.

"I'll give Rhinox the word to clear out the control room, so we can talk in privat.." Primal agreed, only to be cut short when Shadow staggered towards him. His hands flailing out and finding purchase on Primal's Transmetal chest, steadying himself.
"Rampage.. N-now leads the Predacons! He has already regained his spark core" Shadow interjected through gritted teeth. It was only now, when viewed from the sunlight flooding in through the window, that Primal took note of the heavy battle damage across the spies entire form. Even his mask was broken, revealing a mouth before unseen. Mech fluid trailed from one corner of it.

Instantly, Primal put a hand to his ear and raised Rhinox on the comm link. "Rhinox. Commence Operation: Victory." The great ape commanded.
"..Sigh, I see. Ok." The Scientist's brief response, before the link fell silent.

Primal then returned his full attention to the injured bot before him. A deep concern coloured his features. "I'll have a CR Chamber made ready immediately." Primal spoke softly, easing a hand onto the Panther's shoulder. A swift shrug dislodged the grip and refuted the gesture.

"There is no time for that. As for your last request, I was unable to find any trace of them prior to Megatron's capture." Shadow continued, as though nothing had happened.

"We've had no contact from Silverbolt (and Blackarachnia) for six mega cycles now. He was pursuing datatrax involving what Megatron's true agenda was on this planet. Now more than ever we need everyone accounted for and ready to mobilise." Primal vocalising his unease at the thought of a potential ambush befalling one of his most naive soldiers, even after he was warned,
"Priorities change in war, Primal. Were Megatron's capture the end of this one, we would have had more than enough time to look for your wayward Fuzor. As it stands, we now have a far more pressing threat to deal with." Shadow stating the facts, while tending to a wicked slash wound on his forearm.
"Agreed" Primal concurred with a sigh. "Yet, we do have Megatron and Ravage. Not to mention with the Heavy Cruiser, the only means off this world."
"Are you suggesting we up and leave them on this empty world?" Shadow replied, the tone in his voice relaying the unseen raised eyebrow. Primal smiled and shook his head.
"No. I'm suggesting we parley. I'm opting for peace" Primal's answer. Ever predictable, thought Shadow. His shoulders dropped at the words and he raised a hand to his half shielded face.
"Ever the optimist. I wonder if that isn't the root of the 'Optimus' designation?" With a mirthless chuckle, Shadow continued "Surrender would be a sound option to rational, leader-less Predacons. But sound decisions don't really befit Rampage." Shadows natural cynicism dripping with every word.

Unphased, Primal resumed his trail of thought "Our ancestors waged war for millions of Stellar Cycles. If there is any chance I can end this one, in a fraction of the time, how could I pass on such an opportunity?" It was clear Primal was beseeching to more than just the spy before him. Perhaps a bid to convince himself too?
Days later, Overbite sent a pulse message to the Darksyde. Expressing Primal's desire to end the conflict. Rampage, much to everyone's surprise, replied favourably. Requesting a representative from each faction, dispatched to a neutral location - the ruins of the Standing Stones - to discuss terms.
Shadow, emerged two days following his meeting with Primal, from a secret custom CR chamber in his hidden base. He immediately began to notice something amiss, from all his surveillance devices across Predacon territory. As the war intensified, following the Quantum Surge, the mold variants would soon splinter into sub factions. Claiming individual territories, while still falling under Megatron's banner.

The folly of Transquito never forgotten.

Upon Shadow's arrival one month after the Surge, he took it upon himself to chart and monitor these individual bases with great interest. It was, after many cycles spent observing and recording everything that occurred throughout this secret war, he grew anxious with what he now saw. He left for the closest base, immediately.
Laserbeak and the other Saurians had left the Eyrie. It wasn't just empty, it was completely abandoned. No defences were activated. In fact, no system was even still running at all. Attempts to activate them, highlighted that all essential components had been stripped clean. There was nothing left of strategic or intelligence value. Transforming back into Beast Mode, Shadow descended the mountain and moved towards the next base.
Three more days pass. The peace talks occurring tomorrow. Night fell, as Shadow approached the last sub-base. Primal had confided he was secretly hopeful of a swift resolution to the war in light of Rampage's positive response. Of the ten sub bases, the previous nine were all empty. Stripped clean. The occupants were all gone. Should this outlet cove follow suit (and it was unlikely this wouldn't be the case) logically, The Darksyde was the only place they could have all gone.

This was also the worst possible scenario. It meant an army was being amassed, once again.

"So much for peace talks, eh Primal?" An 'I told you so' for later, Shadow muttered to himself.
The Darksyde was also a problem. Shadow mused while exploring the coastal base of Snapdragon. Tarantulas had long since placed numerous safe guards to prevent entry to anyone other than those coded by himself, at Megatron's request. Shadow, known as an agent of the council, was strictly limited to "guest" status. An access code relayed to him in person by Megatron, when his presence was requested. That didn't happen often and in light of his capture, Shadow doubted turning up and demanding the code from the stasis locked tyrant would do anything other than reveal his true nature. To his fellow Predacons and the General himself. Stranger still, Tarantulas was well aware of Shadow's "divided loyalties". Just as Shadow also knew the mad Spider served as the second in command to the Predacon secret police. Each knowing the secret of the other. Yet neither acted on it.

Megatron, nor anyone else, ever knew what that spider was really aware of.

This always puzzled Shadow. He knew that should this war come to an end, he would have to ensure the Spider did not leave alive, for him to continue his mission. Lost in his own thoughts he left the cave mouth. Casually returning to Beast Mode, crossing the beach, back towards the jungle.
A brief flash of plasma and his tail was gone. He span through the air into nearby brush. Transforming when he reached cover, minimal as it was. His sensors, further enhanced by his own personal augmentation, were telling him nothing. This last outpost, was just as empty as the rest. The beach utterly devoid of tracks. Snapdragon himself, hadn't been seen here in some time. His sub-ordinates, the reptiles and amphibians, had long since been folded back into Megatron's personal guard. So who was the enemy here? Better question, in the dead of night, who could see him and remain undetectable?

"I'm glad to see such initiative, in at least one of my little flock" Rampage heartily bellowed, walking atop a rocky outcrop.

Worst case scenario. Again.

"I have been looking for a volunteer. As I am in need of a herald to deliver a message" Rampage continued.
Shadow, ever still, crouched in the undergrowth, slowly drew Shadow Mist, his trusty blaster. Fixing his gaze on the King Crab, he took aim at the rock beneath his feet. Plan: Unbalance the enemy, then run at full speed for the jungle.
Chance of Survival: 42%. His A.I. exposited. Thanks for the confidence, the spy scowled.
Another flash of Plasma, the brush and his blaster were gone. A missile then sang through the air, detonating the ground before Shadow. The impact sending Shadow hurtling through the air, impacting against the nearest tree. Dazed and confused from the blast, his senses finally realigned into the vision of Rampage's feet looming in front of him.
Chance of Survival: 3%. All datatrax upload to Maximal Command, engaged. The A.I. acknowledged, then fell silent.
"Thank you" Shadow weakly muttered. Already feeling his amassed knowledge of the Beast Wars, leaving his mind for elsewhere.
"What was that?" Rampage queried from above, lifting the Cat Bot effortlessly into the air to his eye level. One hand encompassing his entire torso.
"I think that was a 'thank you', My Lord" Voiced Razorclaw, emerging decloaked and without a sound from the coastal tide. The gun mode of the lobotomised Buzzsaw, pulsing in his hand.
Of Course. Rampage's own little shadow. The Other Crab. The realisation would be the spies last.

"Now..." Rampage spoke, locking eyes with the Spy "My little opportunist. While taking advantage and sizing up unchallenged territory for your own, is a noble Predacon endeavour. I would expect nothing less from someone of your standing. Primal is offering us the keys to a way off this worthless mudball. So the time for further power grabs and intrigue here, is over. And as you are the loner of our little "family", I can't think of anyone better suited to complete my task at hand." Rampage, drew his face closer to the mask of Shadow and, as much as was possible for him, smiled a big grin.
"Wha..?" The confused response being the last word of the Tri-Predacus Agent. Rampage took his other hand and with one motion, grabbed Shadow's head and tore it effortlessly from his body. The Mutant Mask covering his face, shattered from the grip. Revealing a face, perfectly ordinary.

Megatron, nor anyone else, ever knew what that spider was really aware of.

The dismembered head held between two fingers, Rampage observed its blank expression with his head tilted to one side.
"No smile? The lowly fool should be pleased for the honour of this mission." Rampage chuckled aloud. "After all, he wasn't even a Transmetal. I doubt he would have survived much further." He snorted before carefully closing his left hand around the head. With his right he tossed the body towards the ocean. It skipped twice, before unceremoniously sinking beneath the waves.

Razorclaw gasped. "My Lord..?" voicing his surprise. As currently exemplified by Buzzsaw, the Fiddler Crab has a dark talent of his own. Taxidermy. Specifically retrofitting the bodies of his foes into weapons, armaments or just spare parts. Rampage respects his abilities. Others are both repulsed and afraid.
"No! Not him." Rampage commanded and turned, walking the short distance to the Standing Stones. Looking back towards the water with a look of disappointment, Razorclaw broke into a jog to catch up to his master.
Midday came and from the clouds to the east, Apelinq and Optimus Primal arrived via flight mode, to the appointed location. Landing in Bot Mode, it was less than a cycle before Primal, expecting to meet one or two Predacons, made the grim discovery.
A parade of pikes were displayed within the centre of the ruins. A macabre arrow, the shape mimicking the Darksyde, pointing to Predacon territory. Atop each pike, bore a head. The Seacons. Contact with the Maximal allies, had been lost last week amid a violent tropical storm. Megatron's capture had offset attempts at reestablishing contact.
The frozen looks on their faces, emitted nothing but utter horror and agony. At the apex of the arrow was the head of Shadow. A message had been carved into his face...

'No retreat, No surrender! No More Talk...'

Apelinq, looked away in disgust at the ghoulish display. Primal let out a roar in pain.

:MAXIMAL: End of Part one :MAXIMAL:
Last edited by AllNewSuperRobot on Tue Jun 25, 2019 1:19 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Mon May 27, 2019 5:59 am

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
Part Two: tête-à-tête

The Great Ship Malice

The last patrol exits the corridor. Deployed Nanosects, concentrate attention of the security systems elsewhere. A small random panel on a nondescript wall emits sudden and brief sparks along the seams, before silently sliding to one side. A small lizard scurries cautiously from the darkness. hurrying with purpose to the massive translucent doors of the loading bay. Three hundred and thirty two paces beyond that, the shuttle dock. Even from such a distance away, two spacecraft silhouettes were visible from the sub-lit expanse.
One, Iguanus surmised, from its shape to be of Decepticon origin. Overtly large, bulky and angular. A dulled chrome Tetrajet. Garish in its excess and inefficiency. The property of the mysterious Fem-Bot, he presumed.
The other ship, seemed familiar. Which was concerning as it looked to be technology of the 26th century. His own time. Although far greater in scale than the Tetrajet, it was clearly superior engineering. A large, densely armoured heavy cruiser, predominantly Black and Purple with a red view screen visible at the cockpit, high above the Predacon.

Iguanus did not believe in coincidence.

Throughout his many failed escape attempts, Iguanus had to bitterly concede he could not reclaim his body from his current position on-board this vessel. Leaving The Malice, therefore, was the next logical course of action. Through acquisition of mercenary agents and/or use of retro-engineered future weaponry, he would return in force and with greater numbers for his body ...and his vengeance.
The door to the shuttle dock was more stubborn than anticipated, due to a surprisingly impressive locking system, but it did eventually relent.

'HSSSS!' Despite its clear weight, the door quickly and quietly slid vertically down.

Bot mode activated, with his Blaster raised and ready, Iguanus stealthily entered the opening doors. Visible, even in the gloom, were the sentry guns of the Decepticon Tetrajet. Their targeting sensors ever moving, seeking movement, a target to annihilate. This low spec form could not endure such firepower of that magnitude. Yet the odds seemed better with the Tetrajet than with the ominous unease he felt in the shadow of the cruiser. A quick manual re-purpose of his blaster, Iguanus reattached it to the holster on his back. Swiftly taking to the air with a makeshift jet pack, covering the distance between the entrance and the flight craft as fast as possible.

The greatest hunter of the 26th Century never knew fear or doubt. Yet now, within reach of escape, this hanger, seemingly devoid of personnel and overt threat, gave him great misgivings. He landed and paused, just shy of the cruiser bay doors and turned with resolve towards the Tetrajet.

"Ah, as it is so" A deep voice suddenly resounded, dispelling the absolute silence of the room. The echo hindering a point of origin, yet Iguanus knew that voice well. Heightened instinct had his blaster within his hand before the end of the last syllable. However, the time to alt-shift his blaster from jet to rifle mode was denied.
The Future cruiser suddenly deployed an arm from beneath the wing. Lurching forth, towards him, Iguanus was then scooped off the ground by a fast forming hand. The rest of the transformation was over just as quickly. Confirming the familiarity of his early gut feeling, before the hunter's eyes the cruiser became none other than his decidedly deceased former general, Gigatron.
The cruiser being one of the lesser used forms attributed to the Multi-Changer. A form of stealth and subtly a rising anarchist found little use for, since gaining power.
Silence returned to the room, as Gigatron observed the minute creature held within his gently clenched palm.
"As pleased as I am to see you, alive and active, High Lord of Thrull" Iguanus muffled tone, courteous. "You will lose your hand, then your renewed life in 15.8 seconds, unless you release me now." The geniality, evaporated.

The Multiformer nodded and appeared to silently comply. Revolving his upturned hand and opening his fingers. Releasing the lizard to fall a slight distance to the ground. When Iguanus was fully airborne, free from the hand that held him, did his close his optics. Like lightning, Gigatron's other hand snatched the hunter out of the air, continuing its momentum into the adjacent wall. Iguanus impacted with a resounding crunch of metal and indentation, in the shape of Gigatron's hand.
Over in moments, the giant Predacon briefly waited, for dramatic effect, before speaking again. "A great warrior you may be, but do not forget your place, little spec! I am your emperor!" Gigatron spat with venom. For added emphasis, he squeezed his palm closer to the wall. a cruel sneer formed across his face.

"10 seconds" Iguanus informed. His voice still muffled and distant.
A crescent of light and heat flared across his knuckles. Gigatron's fingers dislodged, dropping to the ground. The next moment, a vertical flash of light foreshadowed the rest of his hand cleaved vertically in two and likewise felled. The Multiformer roared!

"8 seconds" The hunter added, in a poised crouch. Perched within the forced recess against the wall, Iguanus launched himself towards the giant's legs. His handheld Jet mode, now an improvised blow torch. Its pulsing flare still sang through the air in another arc, with the inertia of it's wielder carrying it in a brief loop. A further diagonal slash and the left knee was cleanly severed, with uncanny accuracy. An aileron roll on the floor removed the danger of impact from the landing. A quick somersault and he leapt again. running up the incline of the Predacon's right shin. Two cross slashes and the right knee collapsed into pieces.
"5 seconds" Iguanus stated, a matter of fact update, more than a boast.

All the while, Gigatron's face had shifted from shock to anger and finally fear. He opened his mouth to plead or barter but lost sight of his target. Jet Pack reattached to his back, Iguanus propelled himself high into the air, out of sight of his opponent, behind him. Knowing the weight of his foe would cause his now damaged legs to buckle eventually, Iguanus took aim and with a full power thrust, launched himself, as a living bullet, at the base of the giants neck. The sudden impact, jolted the severed wounds loose and directed the Predacon's collapse forward. Gravity did the rest.

"2... 1" Iguanus concluded, as he landed gently.

Gigatron crashed to the ground face first, with a mighty impact that shook the room. The giant had only moments to hear Iguanus words and note his cunning, before the many laser sights of the Tetrajet's full arsenal of auto-guns took aim and incinerated his head. The massive giant fell still once more, the neck, a smouldering hole. As anticipated, however. Archaic systems such as these would require substantial cool down after complete expenditure. The hunter used this down time, after removing some random components from the Multiformer's corpse, to enter the Tetrajet, via the cargo door that deployed beneath the thrusters. With minimal effort, he entered the ship. Once inside, the door sealed and from before him spoke Terrorcon.
"That was impressive" Terrorcon confirmed, with brief applause.

"I'm tired, now what do you want!?" Iguanus snapped irritably. It was hard to even feign surprise at Terrorcon's presence here, by this point. Motioning the lizard to sit on the chair to his left, The Neocon leader span in the pilots chair to face and man the controls.
With no further exchange, the Decepticon vessel flew from the docks unchallenged and cleared The Malice, heading in the opposite direction, towards the distant spec of Planet Sanafar. The Great Ship resumed its course, entering the solar system of the Planet Cybertron.
Iguanus slumped into the chair, his head sagged on his shoulder, as the Tetrajet activated its transwarp engine. Weary was the only description his body language would imply. Near Stasis-Lock with several structural injuries, the reality.

Terrorcon: "Your Transmetal body would have suffered less?" A rhetorical statement ended the silence.
Iguanus: "No. A Multiformer is a significant threat to any lone challenger." The hunter's reluctant response.
Terrorcon: "I see. You may ask three questions before I reach Sanafar." Spoken nonchalantly, without looking away from the controls.
Iguanus: "Alone, I take it?" The hunter deemed escape attempt 45 was the last straw.
Terrorcon: "Is that your first question?" The only response.
Iguanus: "No... Do they know you have already won?" He did have curiosity that needed sating. Meanwhile re-routing nonessential functions to life support.
'Life Support at 13%' His A.I. iterated. 'dropping by 5% every 20 Nano-cliks.'

Terrorcon: "The Cybertronians? They do not. They don't even know of our existence. Salvo destabilised their entire communication infrastructure, some time ago, and they haven't even noticed a problem. To the galaxy at large, they are deaf and blind." The face of Terrorcon could almost betray a smug grin, were it remotely humanoid in it features.

Terrorcon: "Question Two!" The tone authoritative.

Iguanus: "I don't believe you have fully answered my first question." Vying for time. Now his left arm, joints fused from wielding the jet pack, was taken offline. Life support boosted by 6%.

Terrorcon: "The Reformation continues apace. Thirty seven worlds have been enlightened by the Neocon Host within the last five days. Our congregation is now amassed of 362 worlds and 500 Arch Vessels soar through the stars beside The Great Ship Malice. The Host is now 42 Trillion strong. The Cybertronians don't even appreciate why their allies have all fallen silent. As is typical of the insular view of Your race. Not that it would make the slightest difference should they all unite against The Host. A retaliatory force of anything less than a Trillion battle hardened combatants, is not even worthy of acknowledgement. Next Question!" Question one was answered.

Iguanus: "You have conquered half of known space in a Deca-Cycle and they don't even know you are there? Astounding!" Iguanus couldn't help but be impressed at the stealth and efficiency.
'Left and Right legs, disabled. Life Support boosted by 9%. Life support critical. Stasis Lock systems offline, spark in peril.' The A.I. gravely informed him.

"Very well" His answer to both voices.
"When I first arrived, asked me about my timeline and of the historical relics I was aware of, in this era. But you never asked for my technology or know-how. Why?"

For the first time, Terrorcon paused and turned to face the reluctant guest.

Terrorcon: "The Vok instilled within this form a high regard for the sanctity of balance within the time stream. To utilise such technology from the "future" is anathema to me. Had I not ascertained your origins, as a chronal anomaly, I would have slain you immediately, to prevent contamination of this era." The lone optic shone brighter.
The implications of this frank, yet sinister exchange, were not lost on Iguanus.
"I allowed you to live, to fulfil that initial task given to you, because you do not exist within this reality. You create no imbalance that would need rectifying. No harm to the fabric of space and time. Your third question?"

Terrorcon would receive no answer that day. As closer observation of Iguanus revealed, his eyes black and empty, his life had already expired.

:PREDACON: End of Part Two :PREDACON:
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Re: The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Fri May 31, 2019 8:35 am

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
Part Three: Unavailing deterrence

Near Cybertron orbit

The Comms system engages with a crackle...

'Three mega cycles have passed since the Megatron escaped his confinement by an as yet, unknown benefactor. His extraction was followed by a blast wave engulfing one twelfth of the planet's surface. Kalis and New Vos were atomised. Casualty reports are unconfirmed. There simply isn't enough remains to identify. Some disturbing estimates are based on year end census figures.'

"Thanks, Cosmos" The lone voice expresses gratitude for the sitrep, in the pitch black of the control room of a Maximal Voyager Class Cruiser. Cloaked and completely unobserved by the rank and file of the surface below. Far beneath the hovering craft, the great cavernous scar Megatron torn open in this escape. An aurora of debris and electro-static discharge creates a miasma bellowing softly from within, giving the pit the air of a long dead furnace.
"I am too close." The voice ponders aloud. Prowl would throw a fit if he knew I was even in the solar system, let along blaster distance from Home World. Yet mysteriously, the Maximal Elders are absent and have been for half a stellar cycle? What is project: Magnaboss?? Even in my capacity, with complete access to the entire Maximal database, Ironhide's little secret project remains suspiciously 'need to know'. Exclusive to the purview of the Elders alone.

Of all bots, I'm not one to decry secrets though, heheheh.

Something is definitely wrong here, aside from the turmoil below. I've made note of sixteen Maximal craft of various sizes currently docked on the planet, from shuttles to Symbol ships. Five arriving in the past 30 cycles alone. All have been of tremendous aid to the search and rescue efforts on the ground. The problem is no distress signal had been sent. In fact, the entire planetary communication grid has been offline for close to a deca-cycle now. Not that anyone seems to notice. The Comm Spire of Iacon appears to be in some kind of enforced lockdown? Scans showing not a spark has been inside for quite some time. Yet I do read some kind of minor subspace pulse, although extremely faint. What is going on down there?

A monitor flashes to life, a dim blue glow meekly colours the darkness.

Systems detect another Transwarp shunt in the upper atmosphere? Five more Symbol ships!? I need to go to the surface and check out the Spire, at least.
'Do we dock with the others, Grand General?' Cosmos, reading the anxiety of his occupant, poses the question across the active monitor, as opposed to the Comms.

"Officially I will face court-martial and be stripped of my commission if I set foot on Cybertron unless authorised by the Elders Elect." The voice declared, as though addressing a convening body. "So that means, I just won't be seen." Rising from the command chair, with a smirk, the voice continued "Cosmos, remain cloaked and in orbit. I am going to assume some kind of recall signal is being played within the Spire and I need to find out why, and terminate it immediately. Yet also keep you in reserve and on alert" The bridge floor opened a small recess into the atmosphere below, the voice added "Because nothing in this galaxy should have been able to bring us here, after all. So a lure that strong, can't be a good sign".

Alt-Mode engaged and ...Free fall!

The surface of Cybertron began to grow ever larger. The stealth field encompassing the ship, Nanosect derived, attached a percentage of itself to the Grand General also. Just a small shooting star, a bright speck in the crowded skies above, to the casual observer. Retro-rockets engage on the Siege Engine treads, moments before impact. As for the touchdown itself, a Spark Ghost would have made more noise. Auto-Nav engaged, 10 cycles to Spire, by least visible routes. The after effects of the Space Bridge detonation couldn't be fully appreciated from the skies. At ground level, the devastation looks nigh apocalyptic. No single assault in recent memory has ever caused such catastrophe before. I will bring a reckoning upon that Predacon, and his conspirators, the likes of which they will never forget.

My name is Omega Magnus. I am the first, last and only purpose created Maximal weapon of war. A deterrent, to quell any significant unrest from our Peace enforced "allies", the Predacons. To take command, in the event of a reignition of large scale Civil Conflict.
As such, upon my completion, officially I didn't exist. Nor have I ever been "used" in fulfilling my function. Unofficially, I have seen more conflict than any lone Maximal would even be aware of.

I am also the unseen Grand General of The Wreckers.
The elite, galactic Maximal Peace Keepers. The best of the best. I command a four bot unit. Each trained to disarm planet wide conflicts independently. Through various means of intelligence, infiltration and combat prowess. Although mostly deployed in aide of our organic allies, The Wreckers have encountered a handful of potentially destabilising Predacon-based threats. All silenced without becoming public knowledge. Far more effective than the Shadow program, but with considerably more political censure. The Main stipulation, agreed between the Tri-Predacus Council and Maximal Elders, being when concerning Cybertronian threats. We are only authorised to intervene in an advisory capacity and only one operative may be dispatched to that end. Planet-side, we are hotkeyed to not even approach the system unless commanded directly.
Which is what brings me to this spire. Something potent enough to override my core shell program, also powerful enough to recall Maximal forces from far and wide. Yet subversive enough to go unchallenged prior? Is this Megatron's doing also? How long were the conspirators who aided his escape hidden among the populous and what else were they up to?? Too many questions and as I approach the purposely welded closed main gates of the Comm Spire (an otherwise unremarkable and featureless metallic grey spike reaching into high orbit) my anxiety over this signal deepens to dread at its intention.

A Siege Engine is the perfect alt-mode for an ultimate weapon of warfare such as myself. It is the alt-mode I was designed for. The ability to alternate my form situationally, was not part of my remit. Four all-purpose terrain treads, giving me everything from unimpeded land traversal, to submersible manoeuvrability and high power thrusters that grant low altitude aerial evasion. All supported by two cruiser jets that form the back of my armoured chassis. Two Ionic Vulcan Rail cannons, one above each set of my wheels. Decimates armies with little effort. Conductor stacks spring vertically from those into the air beside the thrusters. They disperse any and all adverse weapon over heating or excess kinetic resistance to my armour plating and channel it into a null shield I can deploy. That I can make use of defensive or offensively, to great effect. Between the Stacks and thrusters, a battery of anti-air warheads, also powered by the Stacks.
Last but certainly not least, my central turret. The main component of my Chassis. A Nebula class anti-matter Hyper cannon. I've only had to use it in enemy action twice. As the smoke evaporated, so it was too, the engaging force. Powered by a perpetual quantum dynamo, I am the greatest weapon ever created to never be used. Good thing I developed a sense of humour about being programmed with a denied function.
A can opener left boxed, on a shelf of cans heheheh

Anyway, one brief Vulcan blast and the doors melt away, maintaining my anonym...eh?

To my left, a pile of debris suddenly implodes from the noise of the blast, and out scrambles a feral looking, metallic creature. It's not a Turbofox, according to my datatrax. Although it looks very damaged, no optics either, perhaps it is a Maximal survivor? In which case, play dumb and it might think I'm a recovery drone.
The Creature quickly attacks the source of the sound, leaping into the air, claws and fangs bared...

Overbite: "MEGATRON!!!!!"


:MAXIMAL: End of Part Three :MAXIMAL:
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Re: The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Mon Aug 26, 2019 8:41 am

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
Part Four: Eternal vigilance...

Before. Location unknown - The Court convenes

Chief Prosecutor: "Has the Imperial Magistrate reached a verdict?"

Silence grips the chamber. The Assembly gather in the ruin of a once grand hall. The remnant of a shining pillar, at the centre of the capital city of Quintessa III. That however, was before the War. Before the combined might of the Autobots and Decepticons united the universe against the Quintessons.

Revealing the secret of their near universal manipulation and propagation of endless divisive conflict. The Assembly had fled from one safe haven to the next. The united front had set about the eradication of the clandestine and pervasive threat. The Transformers themselves were not present at this time however. Their own war had reached its endgame on Planet Nebulos. Some individual Cybertronians would assist the newly christened Galactic Alliance, but their numbers did not exceed half a dozen.

The Quintessons, despite being on the run, were no less dangerous or cunning a threat. They were war profiteers and knew their trade well. Ever loyal by their side, the Allicons and Sharkticons were the fiercest of soldiers. The Alliance lost scores of troops in liberating Quintesson territory from their grasp. This war of attrition seemed destined to be fought til the last man standing.

Then, there was Gnaw.

Quintesson - Wrath: "I have"
A shrill metallic rasping tone fills the hall. Before the Assembly, a lone Judge remains. Severely battle damaged. Its gravity beam pulses, barely keeping the form aloft. Three faces were missing. The face of Death, nothing more than a massive bite mark on the main carapace. Exposing leaking fluids and an unknown gelatinous compound ever shifting under the wound.

Beneath the dais upon which the assembly stand, was a mighty horde. The Sharkticons. The Dock, expanded to include so many accused. An enormous and foreboding pitch black chasm beneath their feet. The Allicons stood vigil, encircling the court from the ruined upper level, blasters all aimed at the accused. The Sharkticons stood their ground, ever silent, all eyes focused on their lone hanging companion. Gnaw was held in chains above them. Just below the eye level of the dais, the chains hooked to the last of the halls' ceiling high above. The expressionless form was the only one in Bot Mode. The eyes made the Assembly afraid. They alone bore a light that none of their creations had possessed in aeons. The spark of understanding. Of Sentience.

With a nod of acquiescence, The Prosecutor resumed closing remarks. "Sharkticon batchling 19184415 - Gnaw" A brief chuckle of derision burst from the Allicons at the name and, smirking himself, the Prosecutor continued "For the crime of High Treason against the Assembly. Denoted by: grievous assault against a Greater Judge and inciting rebellion. The Magistrate will now pass Judgment." A sneer of contempt forged during the Prosecutors final words.

A sudden distant rumble, alerted the Assembly that time was short. Their enemies had found them and drew near. Wrath began to change form, forgetting itself and the Assembly briefly paused in horror as the Judge shifted from face to face unending. Seeking a form that was no longer possible. Eventually the malfunction abated and Wisdom resumed deliberations. "Your heresy has led to your fate being exceptional for this Court" The booming grew ever closer. Upon silent instruction, the Bailiffs quietly left the proceedings and made their way to the Front line, at the City forcefield generator. "So my judgment will be unique yet equally severe." The eyes of the Allicons burned bright, the weapons took more careful aim. The Executioner, catching sight of this tension, fired a malicious glare at them. Which defused their excitement. "Speak creature, before sentence is passed!" Wisdom demanded. Gnaw, at this summons, focused his gaze squarely into the eyes of the Judge and to the astonishment of the Allicons, acknowledged and used language. Previously thought impossible to their caste.

"Free. Sharkticons! I. am. alive." The first of his kind uttered.

The Assembly was thrown into chaos. The Allicons howled in fury at the blasphemy. War emerged in reflex and the Judge laughed in mockery. "The verdict is GUILTY!" The Judge decreed. The booming voice returning absolute order to the room.
The rumbling was directly overhead now, light debris fell from above. The hall shook. Every other Allicon withdrew from the line. Transforming and rushing towards the Front.
The prosecutor could barely contain his excitement at the verdict. "Special measures have been taken in your case. A guilty verdict has not been delivered in three centuries. For your crimes however, your caste shall be ...pardoned." The prosecutor motioned towards the Executioner, who opened a separate panel in the wall. Revealing an ominous black button.
"CLEAR THE ASSEMBLY!" Was soon bellowed.

The Assembly began to leave. The Executioner began releasing one of three locks on the button. The Judge was escorted from the dais by the last two Bailiffs. Gnaw began to stir. The Prosecutor took one final look below at the dock of placid Sharkticons from the edge of the dais and turned to leave. A broken link of a chain landed on the ground before him and it was the last thing he would ever see. Gnaw was upon him in an instant and bit through his elongated head. Forcing the Judge through the door, the Bailiffs spun in unison to defend it, their spears readied. Gnaw raised his head from the corpse laying half eaten at his feet. His altmode dripping with mech fluid. The Bailiffs took a joint step forward, Gnaw lowered his jaws and climbed atop the mound of remains. The few Allicons above, took aim at his back and readied to fire.
Suddenly they, alongside the top of structure were scraped away by the hurtling form of Fortress Maximus battle platform flying overhead. Shattering the upper half of the hall, while heading unerring towards the last Quintesson space cruiser at the city limits.

The distraction was all Gnaw needed. He made his way to the edge of the dais and looked down at his people, missing his tail, left leg and a broken spear piercing his back. He transformed for extra mobility and fixed his sights on the Executioner, flipping open the last lock. The Button popped up from the wall and as it was again depressed, the Executioner was enveloped by the shadow of a lunging Sharkticon. But Gnaw was both too late and underestimated his foe. The Executioner effortlessly swatted his frame aside, into the great pit. A gnarly gouge across his abdomen reward for his reckless frontal assault. As Gnaw fell into the darkness he looked back to see the Dock enveloped in a singularity. Arms outstretched, He screamed as he fell helpless, into oblivion.

Quarantined ruin of Quintessa III

Many centuries later...

"A pardon was dimensional banishment." The ancient Executioner spat, wincing in pain on the ground. His assailant stepped towards him once more "No wait please! No more!!" The battered frame implored. "That is the entire story. All of the information you wanted. I have nothing more to give." he uttered, his broken hands shielding himself from the sight of his tormentor. A great claw, largely impractical as a hand, reached down and lifted the creature by his head high into the air. Bringing him eye to eye with his inquisitor.

"Not everything, Carnifax" The large assailant retorted. A shining fin adorning his head, he grinned at the namedrop and the reaction it gave. The Executioners eyes widened in horror. "Yes, you have a name now. Because of HIM! He paved the way for the uprising and the death of the last Quintesson. You and yours owe everything to him, Executioner. Now you will tell me all I wish to know or I will level this place and all of you wretches that dwell within. In secret, like vermin. The Galactic Alliance was fooled into believing this place ground zero for the Great Plague, but you and I know better." His expression stern. They were both aware of the seriousness of the situation. Yet even in death, the Assembly were ever loyal to their Judges."What are they to you?" Carnifax tone and manner suddenly shifted. "A resource? An army? As Pets!" He grimly chuckled to himself at the last one. Cybershark's right arm swung forward at the remark and his clutched fin blade, cleaved the Executioners legs apart from his torso. They sagged to the floor, accompanied by a torrent of Mech Fluid. The Executioner sneered and spat upon the face of the Shark-Bot.
Cybershark was unphased.
He lent in close to the Executioners audio receptors. "I am the son of Gnaw..". Carnifax turned his head slowly. Their faces now a breath apart. "You'll never find them, son of slag!!" Anger grew in the Executioners face. "MAY THE FIVE JUDGE YOU!!" He screamed, as Cybershark bore his eye beam straight through the last Executioner's head.

Discarding the corpse, Cybershark composed himself and finished arming the bomb. The surviving Allicons banging at the sealed door of the audience chamber of their Elder.
Cybershark was unphased.
"Hmmm, well, that was a little cathartic" Cybershark lamented aloud. A ping on his wrist announced the reactivation of his AI. 'Gnaw-Son. The Chronal engine is regenerated. It is *Ahem* time, to leave'. "Of course my dear. The story was helpful, but all avenues of enquiry are expended in this era. What is the next one on the road map?" His mood and tone, light and cheery around his AI. A uniquely symbiotic arrangement. Hard-wiring himself to the Obelisk, the first sentient Cybertronian Time Machine.

'The Year 2508' The AI's response. Her last syllable preceding Allicon teeth finally breaking into the door. "Ohh!? The end of the Great Plague era? How marvellous. I'll need to be concealed in a stasis pod then." Cybershark looked on amused, rubbing his two disparately sized hands together. 'We will have to be subtle in our infiltration this time, Gnaw-Son' The AI chided. "I don't know what you mean" Cybershark innocently replied. The Allicons burst through the door as his form teleported away. The bomb then reached zero and the last Quintesson stronghold was no more. Engulfed in a dazzling white light visible from orbit.


:CON: End of Part Four :MAXIMAL:
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Re: The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Sun Sep 01, 2019 7:28 am

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
Chapter Finale: Prelude to Armageddon Part 1


Pre-History Earth: The Beast Wars

Dawn slowly illuminated the skies above the Axalon. The funeral for the Seacons and recycling of their remains had finished but three mega cycles previously. The Maximals stood in rank and file before the shining hull of the Axalon, a podium was erected beneath the bridge. Primal had been attending to various minor matters throughout the night. Keeping busy. In a bid to distract his mind from what was coming. Even Cheetor had conducted the service for their fallen comrades at his behest. The distractions didn't help as much as he desired.

He approached his troops from the plains behind the gathering. Their number, even in formation had already been further divided into, what would be, waves in the battle to come. As he passed them, all other whispers and conversation ceased. This was it!

Briefly pausing before the podium, Primal paused. Hesitated. As if in a last ditch, futile belief that if he didn't take to that stage, didn't say what needed to be said by him alone, what was about to happen wouldn't. With flight of fancy that out of the way, he shook his head, closed his eyes and thought of the many, many lives claimed by the Beast Wars. His eyes opened. His literal and figurative vision focused once more. He took to the podium and faced his troops. With the grim realisation that for many, or all, this would be the final dawn. He began his address...

The Darksyde - Three Mega Cycles earlier

Rampage sat atop a throne, staring into a lava pool at his feet. It was a custom piece, naturally. One of Razorclaw's finest. Ornately crafted from the limbs of many fallen bots, friend and foe alike. Rampage heard the door to his chamber open and lent his head back, resting upon the many outstretched hands that adorned the head rest of the throne. "What is it!?..." he snapped at the intrusion, his eyes now closed. The lava pool, the only light source in the cargo hold of the Darksyde, Rampage called his home. It bathed him in an eerie light that illuminated his form in a menacing dance of light and shadow. Not that any other light could possibly make him any less terrifying. Tarantulas stepped forward from the darkness and stood at the other side of the lava pool. The light denoting his lone optic and casting a wicked shadow of his horned head. No less a devil than of those in legend.
"Pfft. You summoned me, Warlord." The limit to Tarantulas respect/fear of the Predacon leader before him, significantly less than the rest of their faction. The Spider still harbouring a grudge over their first encounter. "I was busy making preparations. The Maximals will soon be on the move and, with a Heavy Cruiser in tow.." Rampage ended the dialogue with a stamp of his mighty foot. The lightly bubbling pool shook and briefly spat molten material into the air. Silence reigned.

"Tell me, Spider" Rampage queried. His mood, softened."How deep does this little pool go?"
Tarantulas motioned a raised eyebrow. But chose to indulge his current leader and wisely, not to mock him. "It could, theoretically, just be a small pocket of Magma.." Tarantulas felt a slight unease as to where this question was leading. Rampage does enjoy his "games", after all. He continued "With this planet's geology in mind, an estimate could be conceived at 250km to 700km" Tarantulas noted to himself, that Megatron never asked him (or anyone else) for such scientific knowledge before. Rampage opened his eyes and look down directly at the Spider-Bot. The reflect glare from the lava pool put Tarantulas further on edge.
"Not far enough." He bitterly resounded. The tension in the air grew. Tarantulas silently readied himself to cycle for the door. It was, with a brief glance behind himself, that he noticed Razorclaw was also in the room. A silent sentinel leaning against the wall beside the door. His arms and legs crossed. His gaze, squarely on the body language of the scientist, in audience with his master. Tarantulas flinched when Rampage spoke again. His attention returned on the King Crab.
"I have a dream" He began, raising his cupped hands to beside his head, his features began to soon at some point above them. "Megatron coveted this world. The Maximals die in droves to defend it. To that end, I choose not to question why. I dream, to simply take their goal from them. To wrench it from their cold dead hands and DESTROY IT!" In one fluid motion, Rampage leapt from his throne and stood before Tarantulas. The great Warlord loomed over him, casting the Spider-Bot fully in shadow. To his credit, he did not cower. The act alone impressed Rampage. Unbeknown to the King Crab, the Spider had briefly disabled his own optics in preparation for some treachery. He knew all too well of Shadow Panther's fate. He didn't recoil, because he chose not to see the doom that would befall him.

"This is the lowest stable access point of this region" He pointed to the lava pool. "I want a bomb made ready. The Maximals will come and I will slaughter them all. When that happens, we shall take that heavy cruiser and leave this world for Cybertron. As we do, I want to see this planet vaporised behind us. Is that clear!?"This restored Tarantulas full attention, and his eye widened.
Rampage didn't know! He didn't know the importance of this world. Nor who lay dormant upon it. Tarantulas features coalesced into a grin, at the implications. He had secretly planned to assail the Ark himself at some point. Perhaps using Megatron's hubris to do the job for him. But he lacked the power and knowhow to breach Teletraan defences. This however, was the perfect solution. Not just to eliminate the Autobots and the Decepticons, but the accused humans too. It was a plan so extreme he would have never previously considered it, nor one Megatron would have ever allowed.

"I will strip the necessary transwarp equipment from the Darksyde engines. Your bomb will be ready within two Mega Cycles" Tarantulas enthusiastically replied after a brief pause. With that, the door opened and Razorclaw motioned towards it. The Spider-Bot swiftly left the room, cackling to himself. Silence returned with the closure of the door. A sudden ping on a console in the arm of the throne prompted a nod from Rampage. He too, made for the door "Come Razorclaw, Ravenus returns." The two left the chamber, a lava bubble popped.


Mega Cycles later and Primal's speech had ended. This was it. They all knew what was at stake now.
Do or die. Rampage can not be allowed to reach Cybertron. No matter the cost.

Brother Rhi had done what he could to alleviate the concerns of individual bots as the time of action drew near. Some took comfort in the words of Primus. Others were relieved to have someone to confide in, before "the end". Grimlock and B'Boom spent the last Mega Cycles sparring in unarmed combat. The fight, though non-lethal, was intense and quickly drew an awed crowd... Bets were soon placed also.
In the bowels of the Axalon, Rhinox stood alone. Having secretly worked without rest for the past few days, on various areas of the ship. He was finally finished. The 'miracle worker', indeed. He thought to himself with amusement.

On the rock face of the valley below, stood Overbite. He reached into a crevasse and pulled out the Golden Disc shard he had seized from Megatron. Clutching it between his hands, perching stealthily between rocks, he stood gazing at his reflection within it and the machinations this Disc had made him privy too. The implications of its success, too extreme to even contemplate. But, Primal had lost his way. Both he and Cheetor would take this information and bid to make use of it. To discover the Ark, to "protect" it. No, the past must be left buried. History left to unfold naturally. His reverie broken by yells of the crowd above, as Grimlock was gaining the upperhand. "Til all are one" he uttered sardonically. He threw the shard into the air and incinerated it with a single, silenced blaster round.

A klaxon began to sound. The time for war was now. Transforming into Beast Mode, Overbite quietly surmounted the cliff face and rejoined the amassing rank and file, as the Heavy Cruiser landed.

:MAXIMAL: End of part one :MAXIMAL:
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Re: The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Fri Sep 20, 2019 2:57 pm

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
Chapter Finale: Countdown to Armageddon (Part 2)

Pre-History Earth: The Beast War

The Heavy Cruiser was sailing through the stratosphere. Thirty cycles from now, they would reach Predacon territory.

This is it.

For the moment, distance and altitude granted a brief reprieve from the mounting tension. The Maximals, numbering twenty one warriors, silently lined the walls of the hold. Although seated opposite their comrades, no one from either row met the eyes of their neighbour. Many had their eyes closed. Their thoughts reflecting inward on private matters. Some held their gaze on the floor, focused on the encroaching mission and nothing more. Grimlock was squat on his haunches at the far end of the hold, apart from the seats, arms folded across his chest and gently rocking. Unlike everyone else, his mounting excitement was plain to see.

They all knew the plan. Three teams. Three waves. Each would be placed at pivotal points on the battlefield. The sector surrounding the Darksyde had been a vastly unknown quantity for a long time. But, through Shadow Panther's last communique, they were aware of certain key points that all needed to be assailed simultaneously. Cheetor and Primal sat alone in the bridge, the young Cat Bot at the controls. his commander stood beside him, searching the skies beyond their vessel through the cockpit. Rattrap sat against the door outside, his body language reflecting neither calm nor anxiety. Slouched back, staring vacantly into the unlit corridor beyond.
He seemed completely undeterred when Brother Rhi emerged almost ethereal from the shadows. Without permission he walked over and sat beside one he viewed as most in need of his help among the entire crew. Although initial met only with caustic rebuttal, eventually even the cantankerous Rattrap took solace in his council and his confidence. "Troubled, my son?" A gentle voice questioned. A voice almost too slight for the massive frame of Mammalian Bot that even sat on the ground loomed three times the size of the Rat Bot."In that I mean, by thoughts beyond this battlefield?" He continued.

"Not now, Preacha" Rattrap replied without averting his gaze. His tone, weary. "Let's just get dis done. We're all gonna die, but as long as they go first, dis whole mess mighta meant sumthin ". His barely veiled bitterness was hard to miss these days. Many including Brother Rhi, felt sorry for the ole Vermin. One too many loses had robbed him of his purpose and ...his way, in life. He had fully withdrawn from active duty several deca-cycles prior to the operation. It took a lot of convincing by Primal for Rattrap to leave his seclusion. He had yet to utter a word to anyone other than Rhi, since he boarded the Predacon vessel shortly before dawn. Rhi's gaze did not shy away from his companion once, nor his focus when spoken too. "Sorry I missed ya speech, Preacha" a soft jab into the big bot's arm followed. "I heard it was a dozy". Rhi rested his hand on Rattrap's shoulder and they sat together without further words, until the time of the mission which would draw them apart.


Yesterday

Primal had concluded his speech. Nothing but the sound of the wind followed. The end was both insight and seemingly insurmountable. An air of defeat, poised on a knife edge, before a single gunshot was fired..
Brother Rhi mounted the podium and clicked his fingers once loudly into the microphone. Startled, his companions were shaken from their revery and looked up as one. Clearing his throat, he began what he thought would be the most important address of his life.

"Today is our last antebellum..."

Brother Rhi arrived four steller-cycles into the Beast War. He was brought into the conflict via the space pirates. They had claimed his long range stasis pod when entering the solar system, in pursuit of the renegade Cybershark. A Maximal of antiquity. Rhino - his full name - hailed from Autobot City on Earth. His name not adapted directly from an altmode, as is Maximal custom, but in homage to his former Truck Bot Autobot mentor. Who had worked covertly with a specialist team of humans, centuries prior.

He had ventured out alone following a "vision of light" he had experienced in a dream, he believed an omen. The fact that his proximity matched the exact orbital point of the Vok Planet Buster's simultaneous destruction several million years prior, was cynically dismissed as coincidence by Rhinox much later.


A devout 'Shepherd of Primus' made him an oddity among Maximal society. As the old ways and beliefs of the ancestral Autobots had been cast aside, before his protoform batch was even constructed. Rhi took much comfort in the past however. His genuinely caring and compassionate nature, softened the reproach of his instructors in Maximal Academy. Although encouraged towards being a medic, Rhi invested fully in his passion and was reluctantly introduced to the Primal sect. A small group of other 'Shepherds', privately tolerated but publicly invisible. He was deployed on Lunar base 1 as Chaplin. A token role more comforting to organics, than his compatriots.

Eventually freed from the machinations of Leo Caesar's pirates. Rhi took comfort among the rank and file of the planet-bound Maximals. It soon became apparent that his vocation was in dire need on this lost world. He soon proved invaluable to the crew's morale. Although initially at loggerheads with some of the more battle hardened warriors.

"... Thou I walk in the shadow of His horned Maw, I shall fear no Fallen, for Thou light my darkest hour..." His sermon concluded. He was satisfied he gave it his best shot. Though his audience looked unmoved. "Til All Are One!" Those words he left on, gradually ventured from lone retort to deafening cheer as the crew became electrified by his words and took comfort in their meaning. That moved him more than anything in his entire life. He would hold onto that moment in his spark, until the day he died...

Elsewhere, elsewhen

Ravenus was a pitiful creature. The least of the Space Pirate crew. He became addicted to the raw Energon feedback on this planet, after Cybershark left them all stranded, by stealing their ship. His addiction however, would lead to irreparable damage to his superstructure. Outcast for his continued incompetence by Leo Caesar, and the redundancy of being the deep space Flier of a crew that is now planet-bound. He was soon taken in by Terrorsaur, as part of his growing Saurian squadron. Only able to exist in bot mode for brief periods of five to ten cycles, even Terrorsaur acknowledged he was a liability on the battlefield and largely confined him to "guard the base". The high altitude Aerie, the Squadron called home.

On a routine visit to the Darksyde, Terrorsaur and the Desert Commander Scorponok, were slain by the emergence of the alien Quantum Surge. Ravenus was only briefly aware of the fading, monitored life signs of his Wing Commander, before he too was overcome by the wave. When he awoke, he was Transmetal. As were his brothers in arms. His condition however, hadn't been lost in the transition. Although sharing the mold of his squadron, he was significantly weaker. Physically emaciated in comparison. His form had been amplified but he was barely stronger than a drone. Relegated to "guarding the base" on a permanent basis now, as Laserbeak took leadership of the group. Ravenus filled his days trying to better himself. Trying to learn and study the reports and bios of the Beast Wars and their combatants. He soon picked up an unknown tactical aptitude. One that, when privately relayed through the commlink of Laserbeak, granted the Saurians some significant victories in battle.

One day, his snooping unearthed a heavily encrypted file of his late Wing Commander, Terrorsaur. Curious, he secretly toiled away for deca-cycles until he unlocked it. Initially it was Terrorsaur's private datatrax account of an incident involving a floating mountain. Codenamed "Power Surge". The story itself was widely known among the latter Predacon rank and file. So Ravenus was unsure as to the secrecy under which it was hidden. Until he spotted a further encryption algorithm, concealed within the text. Everyone knew the story of Terrorsaur's one shining moment, wherein he was able to best Megatron. Also aware that the floating mountain was soon destroyed by the Maximals, before it could be harvested.

What they didn't know? Terrorsaur found another one.

Thruster Mode engaged, Ravenus flew immediately to the co-ordinates. Upon arrival, he saw the mountain had fallen. Doubtlessly during the Quantum Surge. Amid the ruins however, he discovered a hatch to an underground bunker. Gaining entry using Terrorsaur's recently accessed datatrax, he made his discovery. A huge stockpiled vault, containing what Terrorsaur have tentatively called "Aerogon". A cradle hung from the ceiling, enabling direct feed. His curiosity stirring his dormant addiction, and he hooked himself in with abandon. The system AI, noting Saurian CNA, initiated the charging sequence. Ravenus screamed out in utter agony and fell into stasis lock.

He awoke the next day. He felt different, he felt STRONG. The Aerogon was Vok manipulated Energon. The Transmetal process involved similar external manipulations. Refined and weaponized as it was, the two processes achieved something new. Something permanent. By the third day, he had led his Squadron to the vault. The Aerie was completely wiped of all data on the fourth day. Aside from one personal datapad casually left aside by Ravenus, soon discovered by Shadow Panther three days later. Part of his final report to Primal.
On the Sixth day, Laserbeak acknowledged the summons from Rampage. The Squadron departed together and agreed to offer the Aerogon to the rest of the Predacon army. Fractyl, unable to contain his excitement, broke rank and addressed Rampage directly, during their first gathering. Aerogon enriched or not, he fell dead to the Warlord as if nothing had changed at all. With Rampage's address over, Laserbeak quietly relayed his information and presented his evidence... A restored and empowered Ravenus!

Rampage agreed to the Aerogon being distributed among the troops, although there wasn't time for more than several cycles of exposure for each. He alone abstained from its use however. He was wary of sources of enhancement, especially those coveted by creatures like Ravenus. He also pointed to the deceased corpse of Fractyl and rightly boasted, he didn't need it.

:PREDACON: End of Part Two :PREDACON:
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Re: The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Sun Oct 06, 2019 9:03 am

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
Chapter Four: Turning Point

"Attack him where he is unprepared, appear where you are not expected. The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting. Supreme excellence consists of breaking the enemy's resistance without fighting." - Sun Tzu

Part One: Story Time

Cybertron: Now

"I feel it, the change in the air. A sudden preternatural agency is upon me"

Scrap Town. The Junkion settlement. Located thirteen sub-levels beneath New Iacon. With the end of the third era of the Great War, following the legendary Last Stand of Nebulos, several Cybertronian allies were dispossessed in the last great Decepticon offensive. Galvatron himself vaporised The Planet of Junk shortly before meeting his end at Nebulos. Also being without Wreck-Gar, the Junkions were largely lost and aimless from the destruction of their homeworld. Rodimus Prime offered them a permanent home on Cybertron and they soon laid claim to the "treasure trove of wonders" they saw in the abandoned, sunken ruins of Kalis.

Although initially unnamed, Kalis was never to be restored into a grand shiny city of Cybertron. that wasn't the way of the Junkions. Instead, it became home to every last scrap of waste on the entire planet. Everything discarded from Vector Sigma at its core, to the moon bases above. The locals referred to it as "Scrap Town". The name struck a cord with it's citizens and was officially adopted.

Fast forward many centuries and The Junkions had adapted to the Great Upgrade and completely integrated themselves into Maximal society, without prejudice. Rattrap and Pack-Rat among their fourth generation descendants.

Today, there was much commotion in the grand dome of Wreck-Gar. From outward appearances a large nondescript shiny oval dome, at the central cross road of town. Within, the far wall was an enormous body of vid-screens on a raised stage. Surrounded by balconies of rowed seats. A one time vid-lecture hall for the old Autobot academics. Now the hub of Junkion society. The planet of Junk may be long lost, but the young are still raised as their ancestors were. The room was unusually full, as a much welcomed guest had returned to give a live stream! The clamor of the room soon ceased. As the visitor quietly walked on stage from the left of the vid-screen wall and stood stoically at its centre. Arms stoically at his sides, Cavalier bowed to his audience. As is custom, in response, the crowd en masse pressed the green button on the left armrest of their chairs and the vid-screens all burst into life with a since message plastered uniformly across every screen. 'Welcome Cavalier!' The message short and simple. Shining neon against the grey minimal lighting of the room.

"So" The lead Junkion of the front row, began. "What's the story, morning glory?"

Cavalier smiled. The Cadence of this race always amused him. His was a simple humanoid design for a Cybertronian. Without faction symbol, but with shining chrome limbs and a golden torso. A single blue crystal in his upper chest, the only unusual feature on an otherwise unremarkable form. His plain facial features seemed to harden briefly, as he sat cross legged before his audience. His eyes and crystal then shone with a soothing light and the screens began to change.

His mouth opened and began to move in speech. Heard solely in their minds.

"In the beginning was a grand battle. A war that shook the universe to its core. Creation and its opposite, Dissolution, given form. Their battle for dominance waged for time immemorial. But to all things there is an end. Fatigue from many mortal blows took their toll eventually. Inevitability soon struck them both, and their descent began.

Being Abstracts, both of substance and without, they fell not merely from on high, but through the fabrics of time and space itself. For each veil of reality that was torn through, an imprint of them was left in their wake. In turn, these imprints would gain sentience of their own. Each bearing a residual trace of their original essence. That power granted new life to the these shades. Each pair awakened within that reality, sealing the tear behind them and beginning their eternal conflict anew, across new battlefields. Albeit, on a smaller scale. Yet on their fading forebears, this too took its toll. Each new imprint siphoned a portion of their ailing might away. Their very lifeforce was fragmenting with abandon. Until in the end, the grand hollowing corpses of two dead gods came to rest together, after falling for untold aeons.

In their death throes, however, their actions would set them apart once and forever more. Creation gave itself to vocation. A body that fell prone to the embrace of the womb, soon began to blossom with life of its very own. That carcass would later become known as a world in itself. Our own dear Cybertron.
Yet in contrast, Dissolution would deny itself such a cyclical end. While its body would ultimately yield to natures intent, it would form no world. but a void. No life would emerge from it, nor aeons later, upon instinct would any venture near it."


The vid-screens powered down and Cavalier rose to his feet. The glow had ceased and the Junkions emerged as if from a mental haze, to focus back on their visitor. Cavalier continued.

"Some scholars debate what happened to the essence of Dissolution. If it's body became unending anti-life, Did it flee physicality, in The Fall? Cavalier leaned in closer to the front row and cocked his head "Is it among us, still?". The front row all shuddered in unison. The scene was then abruptly shifted as a sudden huge explosion from above, literally brought the house down and all went black as the ceiling caved in.

Age-Bage, the Junkion scholar from the front row, was the first of her people to revive. She looked around and saw her charges unconscious in their seats. Her gaze looked upward and she noticed the ceiling was gone. She vaguely recalled it giving way, following a deafening explosion from above. Her eye focused further to Cavalier, floating above them all. Surrounded by falling dust, he lowered his hand and the glow left his chest and eyes. Before she could address him, He turned his head and looked down upon her with a warm, beneficent smile. Sorrow, visible in his eyes.

"I feel it, the change in the air. A sudden preternatural agency is upon me. I am sorry and I weep for you, my child. I saved you all from such a fate, but the result leads to a crueller one." He turned and looked upward, many levels to the skies above. "I must leave you and this world now. Lest I be discovered" With that, he transformed into a flying craft Age-Bage couldn't identify and quickly struggled to remember its features in great detail. Her mouth agape, she could only look on as he rocketed away into a distant, strangely forming aurora of light in the night sky. His parting words, sent a chill to her very spark. As in the language of her people, it was a terrible warning she understood all too well...

"So long and thanks for all the fish"

:RUBSIGN: End of Part One :RUBSIGN:
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Re: The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Sun Nov 03, 2019 1:05 pm

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
Part Two: Future Fantastic

The Siege of Autobot City - 2510

A swift evasive dash to the left saved Panther from a sudden demise. Savage's thigh cannons stealthily shifted trajectory and took aim amidst the maelstrom of Riot Cannon fire. Panther's speed was without equal among his contemporaries. However, the reflexes of a Transmetal 2 Jungle Cat and the narrow streets of a reformatted Cybertronian City don't mix. Although saving his life, Panther inadvertently launched himself through a reinforced wall - head first - and removed him from the rest of the battle.

The battlefield now consisted of a Wrecker, a Sharkticon and a Mad Dragon. It was hard to tell who was enjoying it more?

For Ramulus, it was more like watching a graceful dance between him and his foe. Dodge, counter, evade, riposte. A highly skilled combatant at the peak of his abilities. Giving as good as he got. Cybershark, simply reveled in the fight. Giving in to the primal savagery of his people. His ancestors, few of his Maximals brothers in arms believed he had real association with. The annals of history clearly noted the Sharkticons were completely eradicated by their masters, decacycles before the Great Upgrade.
He paid their disbelief no mind. He knew what he knew. His Riot Cannon already depleted, he cast it aside and threw himself into close combat. He took reckless hits, but paid them no mind. Responding in kind with his massive fin claw. One particular gauge of his foes leg was so brutal, even the Dragon took notice and gave pause. One of Cybersharks' claw fingers broke off in the wound and remained. Buried deep. As long as he hit back twice as hard as the damage he took, that was all that mattered to the Shark-Bots battle instinct.

The battle was raging for longer than Ramulus would have liked. He could already tell Savage was no longer exhibiting any higher brain function. It was making the already difficult battle, turn further against their favour. If nothing else than by wild application of his sheer size and power alone.
"No wonder Mass Displacement tech was outlawed." He allowed himself a brief musing while evading a random tail swing from the mindless Titan. The Predacon, through illegal possession of the technology, was at least five times bigger than any of his opponents. He wasn't exactly a Mini-Bot to begin with. The Wrecker observed his armoured hide was cracking, but not breaking. Meanwhile his behaviour grew ever wilder, instinctive and violent. A pure engine of death and destruction.

On the footpath above, the recently arrived Stinkbomb was surveying his options in Beast Mode. Eyes wide in disbelief at the battle below. Pacing to and fro, he was looking for an opening. As it stood, Savage was between him and his allies. Which spelled certain death if he choose to engage from this location. He was awaken from his indecision by the arrival of Optimus Minor, swinging up from a power cable below the bridge.

"We have to talk!" They said in unison.

This afforded them both a brief moment of levity, before a huge explosion from below shook the bridge and almost flung the two cadets into the chaos beneath them. They both transformed into Bot Mode and held onto the edge of the bridge. Peeking at the battle below, Minor was the first to resume speaking "I have a plan" he spoke softly without turning to his friend, flashing a quick glimpse to his stash of his Demolition Charges. Stinkbomb nodded in agreement and smiled. "Wreck N' Rule" they both utter together once more, before a small fist bump.

Meanwhile, Cybershark played his gambit. Launching his clawed hand as a mighty missile, straight into the left eye of Savage. The claws ensure it hit home and held fast, before detonating nanocliks later. The explosive effect boosted by throwing Panther's now rigged Riot Cannon to overload, behind it. The explosion knocked the Wrecker off his feet and sent Cybershark flying. To imprint against the broken digit of Metroplex. For the briefest of moments the battlefield fell silent. The smoke slowly began to clear and the Titan... still stood, but not without consequence. The left side of his head was gone. His lower jaw blown off to impale in the street below him. Stasis lock may have been given consideration to a more sentient Cybertronian. Even one as powerful as the Titan Class. Savage was his name and existence now, however and nothing more. The right eye seemed to flare back into life and, righting themselves to battle stances, Ramulus and Cybershark readied themselves to renew the battle.

The thigh cannons now fell forever silent. Not enough intellect remained to even fire them subconsciously. Sensing them as weights on it's legs, Savage reign his claws down upon them. Cleaving them from his body and inadvertently casting them across the street. The great guns, still loaded, came to rest between the two allies. They nodded in agreement and made for the fresh supply of ammo. The Dragon made a broken audio cry and went to charge the now mobile prey. Flames spewed before it, cascading to the ground as a wall of molten death, with no mouth to shape or aim the blast. A sudden spark on a nearby wall, drew the immediate attention of the mindless beast and it swung its tail at the movement caught by its one good eye. The wall buckled... but did not break. The tail became stuck and the Titan, in spite of desperate thrashing to free itself, could advance no further. Ramulus and Cybershark made it to the cannons and with some rudimentary hot-wiring, were back in the fight. Each wielding the mighty arsenal of a Titan, albeit they could barely hold them aloft with both arms and evasive movement was out of the question.

"This is Optimus Minor. By authority of Governor Prowl, on my signal, we're going to bring this battle to an end." In Beast Mode, he climbed on the back of his awaiting transformed ally. "Few can remember how this day started. But everyone will remember this particular day. Because this is day war ...ended!"

With that, Stinkbomb galloped towards the edge of the footpath and leapt into the heart of the battlefield, towards the great Dragon itself. Who took notice and raised its broken maw, flame surged forth into a fountain, that rained down on the streets below. his own left arm and leg were also enveloped. Their armoured hide hissed and dripped from his frame. Minor departed his friend with a backwards somersault. Meanwhile, Stinkbombs' momentum kept him on target into the remaining right eye of his foe. There was nothing the Mindless Titan could do to defend itself, without use of its tail. Yet, moments before impact, the Young Maximal brought his own talents into play. Focusing a full powered blast of his titular ability. A Kaleidoscopic flare and subsequent chemical burst dealt the Predacon the dual effect of complete optical overload and feedback, while a virulent corrosive aggressively ate away at the organ itself. the force of the Bomb, shooting the young Maximal away into the relative safety of a nearby window.
All at once, Savage howled a disjointed and unnatural scream of an animal in intense pain and agony. Madly flailing about the street. Trying to gauge out his own eye, with a claw that couldn't reach. All the while pinned into place by his wedged tail. the flames ceased. Ramulus and Cybershark, nodding to each other in recognition, parted to either side of the street and took aim at the same spot on the Predacon.

Optimus Minor made his move. Landing on a broken wall, he ran on all fours up the trunk of the tail and onto the flank of his foe. His speed and agility too much for the remaining claw to even listlessly make contact with. Reaching the peak of the broken left wing, he took flight and hit home on the end of the Dragon's snout. Savage blindly began to swing its head back and froth to dislodge the invader, but it was too late for that. Sliding to the jaws of the beast, Minor clung to a fang with his feet and threw a bolas containing five flashing Demolition Charges down the Dragons throat. He then swung onto the creatures neck. Wrapping his tail around, for support, he corkscrewed down its length. Planting Charges in strategic points as he journeyed down. His inexperience showed at this point, as he briefly mentally paused to plot out the best landing sight. All at once blindsided by a widely swinging arm, he was thrown against the wall behind Ramulus, with a resounding thud. His body crumpled to the floor and made no movement.

"Kid!" The Wrecker screamed over his shoulder. Looking back, he was just about to drop his makeshift weapon and aid his fallen comrade, when Minor's arm shot up. Holding the detonator. He weakly turned his head towards his foe and snarled. He clicked the button with the last of his might and fell into unconsciousness. Ramulus, Cybershark and a concealed Stinkbomb, looked on in awe at the Sanafar manoeuvre. Each charge detonated in a sequence of timed blasts. Every ring of three exterior explosives were accompanied by a large internal device magnetised to their location. In a dazzling display sequential flashes, Savages head flew off and his neck seemingly blossomed into four pieces. Before the lowest internal charge expanded such an opening as the spark cases was now damaged and very visible. The two armed and weary warriors needed no further instruction. They opened fire and didn't stop until the cannons loudly whirled on, depleted of ammo.

Prowl, Sonar and Nightglider descended from the skies above. "Okay, Maximals --- Cease Fire!" the Cyber Owl commanded. "That's it... The Last Predacon has fallen!" he cried out, regarding the smoking wreckage that was once Savage. The Maximals all looked on with grand smiles, including Ramulus.
Cybershark meanwhile, looked on, very confused. "Wait? What th.."

'Gnaw-Son, we need to leave, now!' His AI loudly announced through his commlink.

The Obelisk immediately decloaked overhead. Yet none but Cybershark seemed to notice it, or him for that matter? "What's going on, my love?" he spoke aloud to his companion, again no one seem to heed him at all. "Are we under attack?" he questioned with haste.
'A temporal blast wave is underway. We need to evacuate immediately' His AI unnaturally panicked.
"Very Well" He agreed. He looked on to the gathered party of his allies, cheering and celebrating their victory. Panther even managed to revive in time and emerged from rubble. He looked around, shaking his head and his gazed turned towards Cybershark boarding his ship. He faced the Maximal and gave a salute with his remaining right hand. For the briefest moment, a hint of recognition seemed to exist in Panther's eyes. Fleeting as The Obelisk hatch then closed.

VWORP! VWORP! VWORP! VWORP!

An unearthly sound seemed to permeate the air and the Obelisk seemingly phased out of existence. Panther simply shook his head and moved towards the gesturing Jawbreaker. Running into the group, to arms around his shoulders and a growing cheer amid the city.

Contact! The blast wave hit. To the Maximals, it felt like nothing but a sudden breeze. They vanished, all at once. Autobot City soon followed. Then, the stars above. The Earth itself, the last to vanish.


:MAXIMAL: End of Part Two :MAXIMAL:
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Re: The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Mon Nov 04, 2019 9:04 am

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
Epilogue - The Obelisk

Red eyes pulsed with energy once more and Cybershark awoke. It took him a moment to realise he was both upside down and in complete darkness. The last he remembered he was at the helm in the control room of the Obelisk, departing from the twenty sixth century. A great wave of light was billowing behind their flight path across the Timestream. Then..? Nothing.

"Darling?" He feebly uttered into the void. No response. "Lights!" He croaked, slightly louder. Nothing changed. He began to feel anxious. Finding his feet after righting himself, the Shark-Bot steadied himself on the stump of his elongated left arm, currently bereft of claw, and stood up. His head was woozy, and he did register several internal injuries to would hinder him for sometime. Priority Number One: Emergency power. He was in motion running through his immediate concerns. Without power, there was no Obelisk. He wouldn't even be able to leave the ship in this injured state without aid from the AI.

He staggered towards the inert doorway of the control room. Luckily, a non-electronic door release was built into each access point in the main quarters of the ship. The hull, was another matter altogether, due to the spacial shielding nexus. He reached up for the top of the circular door frame and felt for the small valve handle, just out of sight. He made contact and began to rotate it. The segments of the door concentrically receding, with each twist. He gradually made his way to the end of the single main arterial corridor of the ship, reaching the engine room door. Which opened manually without complication, as did the last. Leaning against a smouldering panel to the left of the troublingly silent Chronal Engine. A Massive crystalline cylinder stretching from floor to ceiling, with the sole gantry of the room giving access to its central core controls. Casting the damaged panel to one side, Cybershark performed some very rudimentary repairs with his lone hand, the AI had taught him to access emergency systems, in the event of "troubles". The smouldering ceased. Lights and monitors all at once flared back into existence. Cybershark, tired from exertion, eased himself to slide down the wall. When comfortably seated, he spoke again. "My Dear? ...Are you awake??" The number of words seemed to strained his vocal processor to emit.

'... G-G-Gnaw-Son?' The ship meekly responded at first. The Shark-Bot breathed a sigh of relief. 'Unfortun-ate-ly... The blast wave anomaly super-charged the Chronal Engine and ejected us across the Multiverse. Verse. Verse.' Cybershark hung his head. That wasn't even remotely good news. Especially as the Chronal Engine needs a Decacycle to recharge between trips. His eyes briefly narrowed and he half rose his head. "The Adversary??" He uttered that name with seething disdain.

'Processing' With that, Obelisk began multi-spacial scans only she possessed the technology to do. Scanning wavelengths and energy signatures across the spectrum of immediate reality.
A large clanking sound shifted the Shark-bots attention to view the lowest section of the Chronal Engine, through the mesh of the gantry. The Energy Dynamo had been deployed. A innocuous nub emerged from the underside of the ship. It would convert all forms of naturally occurring and ambient energy into fuel for the engine itself. As the system is so passive, that is why it takes so long to recharge. Even from his high vantage point, the heat and soothing glow of something no bigger than a pinprick gave the unmistakable identity of liquid magma. So they were on Something, at least. A Planet to larger asteroid, but certainly something stable. He found that oddly comforting. Not to be floating blind in the void of space.

'Energy signature readings complete. Results: Negative. Sensors indicate a Vok Event'The AI responded at last. A clenched fist impacted the floor. There are several names in his travels, Cybershark had grown to hate or fear. The Vok were definitely the latter. The realm of Time and Space was their domain and he went to exception lengths to stay off their radar, in pursuit of his quest.

'Localised reality scan complete. The data suggests The Vok have segmented our reality nexus from the Multiverse. The resultant force swept us from the Timestream itself.' The report was completed.

"Great! That will be at least a Decacycle before we can attempt to get home, if we even can." The Sharkticon mirthlessly thought aloud.
'Unfortunately, Gnaw-Son. We likely won't have that option. According to local chronological data.' The AI interrupted. 'I am working to prime the weapon systems now' There was panic to her voice, that Cybershark had never noticed before.
"What is it? Hostile natives??" He spoke while slowly rising to his feet again. "Sit rep, my Dear. When and where are we?" He commanded.

'Sensors confirm we are in a previous time. The Human year 2005. The Purpura System. We are currently well concealed at the bottom of a geologically active crevasse, on the planet Lithone.' Fear was not a comforting undertone for a sentient Time Machine.

"So if we are completely safe from the locals, why the alarm? what is the matter??" He masked his alarm with a snap of aggression.

'My ...concern, Gnaw-son, is that according to the local historic records of this time, this planet will be consumed by The Unicron in Three Cycles. Meanwhile, our thrusters will take six cycles to reinitialise' A deathly silence enveloped the Engine Room.'A suitable reason for alarm?'

"Oh! Why yes, Yes it is" The Sharkticon was dumbstruck. Meanwhile, leagues above them, a large moving planetoid was approaching the far side of the Purpura star...

End
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Re: The Rough Draft...

Postby AllNewSuperRobot » Wed Nov 13, 2019 3:38 pm

Motto: "Guilty or Innocent?
Always Guilty..."
Weapon: Particle Beam Cannon
Part Three: The Enemy Within

Cybertron - The Comm Spire of Iacon


This is growing tedious. Magnus thought to himself, as a gravely wounded Metal Beast assailed the superstructure of his alt-mode. Claws slashed wildly and fangs bit down hard. The frenzied attack of the creature was all encompassing, yet the damage was minimal. It was too weak to leave more than cosmetic abrasions. Another time and place, the Grand General would have let the attack continue unhindered, allowing the beast to either wear down its wrath or energy supply. Whichever came first. However, as yet more ships entered the atmosphere above, he was pressed for time. Also the creature was getting very loud and it was only a matter of time before it drew attention to his previously silent surroundings. When the animal had completed yet another near lap of his alt-mode, the Wreckers patience ran out.

"Alright you, That's enough!" He snapped aloud. The creature, likely without audio processors as well as optics, paid no mind to the sudden language itself. What did give it pause, was when a massive arm shifted into being and launched from the object of its assault. A hand sprung from its end and fully enveloped the beast. A quick mallet-like fist strike to the ground, rendered the wild prisoner unconscious. The hand and arm just as quickly retracted back into the half formed vehicle.

Beast secured in his chest, Magnus returned his attention to the Comm Spire. Too much time had been lost to this. He was Five cycles over-schedule. Ignoring the entrance now, Magnus began to recall the schematics he had Cosmos "obtain" for him earlier, during this brief distraction. He activated his dynamo thrustors, before quickly and quietly ascending the spire's exterior. An open view port on the mid section of the building, level 89, was to be his point of access. A long disused Flier maintenance hatch. From this entrance, he returned to ground siege Mode. He soon made his way to level 101: C & C. The building was serviced by a single spiral corridor, with a gradual incline. Wide enough for crowds of five to eight bots abreast. Now eerie in its silence and emptiness. Now a lone Siege Engine filled the expanse, largely on its own. At last the Siege Engine came to a halt, outside the broad and sturdy recessed door of Command & Control. Due to the nature of constant access needed to maintain planetary communication - Galactic and domestic - this door has never been closed since its inception. The sight was ...a concern.


A brief scan relayed the density of the door and that a single life sign was within. Surprise was indeed still needed here. As previous scans noted all power and security systems for the entire building, had been deactivated beyond this room. The sealing of the entrance can only be granted from C & C directly. So far, to that end, he was still unseen and desired to stay that way. Transforming to Bot Made, Magnus observed the general gloom of the corridor and looked up into the shadowed eves of the door. A nod reassured him of his next move and he leapt high into the air. Before silently landing on the other side of the door, still obscured in the darkness of the far end of the room. A trick he learned on a distant world of Light. His attention was immediately drawn to the central, lone powered terminal and a very large purple figure hunched over the controls. A passing glimpse of their right arm, exposed a powerful cannon
with a Decepticon symbol emblazoned against the barrel. A second glance brought the numerous Maximal corpses that littered the floor to set the stage. The source of the communication subversion had been found. Magnus decided stealth was no longer an option.

Salvo spun her torso immediately and opened fire from her assault cannon. Scoring direct hits against Magnus' knees, shoulders and head. He lurched backwards and the battle began. Legs still facing the console, Salvo launched herself towards her opponent like a coiled spring. Her legs righted themselves mid-flight. With her left arm, she swung around her foes neck and landing behind him, flipped him over her shoulder against the windows to the left of the entrance. A further volley of shots centred exclusively towards his chest. Four direct hits, aimed towards the Spark casing itself. Disoriented, Magnus allowed himself to slump listlessly to the floor. Though none of these attacks were life threatening, they packed enough punch to alarm the Wrecker as to the potency of the unknown warrior.

"No!" A malicious voice burst into his thoughts. "I refuse to accept how ineffective my little greeting has been on a lowly Maximal dog like you. I slew this entire building of weaklings with barely a fraction of my power. Your ancestors would be disappointed." Arrogance was seething with every word. "You however, almost seem equipped for war? Most un-Maximal, yet very interesting" The Decepticon began to slowly close the distance between them. The foe manually adjust the cannon with their left hand, twisting a dial mid-barrel. "I wonder" The assault cannon was pointed directly at him once more. "How much of my power I'll need to use to destroy you?" The tone had a cold finality to it. The Wrecker decided not to wait for that question to be answered. Noticing a corner of shadow to his right, beneath the windows, he somersaulted towards it with a speed that belied his size. The cannon blast resounding behind him, incinerating the wall and exposing the floor to the world outside. Salvo was staring astounded into the void, when Magnus emerged from her very shadow, with the same inertia as when he flew into the shade. He lifted his enemy by the ankles and threw them through the hole, into the sky beyond.

He didn't wait to confirm the kill, but hastened towards the central Comm terminal. Connecting Cosmos remotely, they were able to locate the source code of the interference and that it had been in place for three deca-cycles. This act of sabotage had also been put in place by the same group that had freed Megatron. The Wrecker was deeply troubled at these revelations. "Why had no one noticed in all this time?" He thought aloud. Cosmos responded through the screen with a visual shrug of the Maximal screen emblem.

"Because Terrorcon was right and our race is hopelessly self-conceited." The voice rang again in his head and he turned towards the hole in the wall. Empty.

"I'm not there, Wrecker! Curious, that those particular Auto-dogs survived the Great Upgrade." Magnus was angered at the information his foe now seemed to possess. "It is actually... difficult, to read your mind." As if in answer to a question unspoken. Magnus was scanning the entire room and couldn't find the Decepticon. Psionics that he was aware of needed line of sight. This new potential advancement was an unwelcome discovery. Even if she (the voice did sound female, he was sure) were to reveal her location, he was at a tactical disadvantage. His Bot Mode weaponry was hard-wired offline on Cybertron, and not even the machinations that brought him here had changed that. His physicality was all he had to rely on and in the face of a heavily armed Decepticon, he doubted that would be enough. "You do intrigue me, wrecker. " The tone became oddly playful. "My name is Salvo and much as with the complete surprise I took this building. It seems you Maximals seem to be unaware of a few facts concerning Decepticons" Magnus braced himself as the voice regained an imperial air. "Such as, some of us can FLY!!" With that, a charging purple sentry gun lowered itself towards the hole and fired.

Level 101 of the Comm Spire detonated with an explosion that shattered nearby windows. Given the vital nature of the building, first responders were dispatched immediately. Fresh from Transmat, Magnus focused all of Cosmos' sensors on the area to locate the Decepticon. Yet it would seem, this... Salvo, had vanished into thin air? No doubt a teleportation device of her own. After placing his still unconscious companion in a CR tank, Magnus returned to the bridge, unconcerned with his own injuries. "Cosmos, has the signal ceased?" The first words he spoke since beaming onboard.

'Affirmative' The ship responded.

"Then get us out of here" First, Megatron mysteriously breaks free. Next, a covert planetary communication blackout, with a powerful sub-audio homing signal and now we have unknown Decepticons thrown into the mix? He arched his fingers together, sat in the pilots chair. "I need to make immediate contact with all units. I believe Cybertron itself is in danger of attack." By his commanded, the still cloaked Trident cruiser began to accelerate beyond Luna-3. Cybertron's high orbiting, Maximal constructed Moon Base.

Suddenly, an enormous Asscher shaped vessel decelerates from local space and makes orbit above the planet, behind the departing Wrecker's ship. All at once, a dazzling glow shimmers from a great disc at its core and Magnus can only look on in utter horror as Luna-3, Cybertron and the countless Maximals below, are annihilated without warning. Vaporised without mercy. Encompassed in a beam of unimaginable power, directed straight through the chasm of Megatron's escape, directly into the planet's core.

There was no imminent attack at all. The signal, a snare of insidious design and chilling magnitude.

This was the beginning of the pogrom the Transformers.

Cybertron was no more. It was not alone in that fate...

:MAXIMAL: End of Part Three :MAXIMAL:
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Transformers Podcast: Twincast / Podcast #240 - Ramping Up
Twincast / Podcast #240:
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