Home to the creative authors of's Transtopia - soon to be the ultimate online location for Transformers fan fiction!


Postby 1984forever » Thu Jan 31, 2019 10:46 pm


The Ark.

When the human’s face appeared on Teletraan-1’s monitor screen, Optimus Prime’s optics instantly zoomed in on the perspiration beading on his forehead.
“Greetings, Agent Barnett. You seem... troubled.”
“I am er, troubled! We’ve got power outages up and down the west coast, a nationwide gas shortage, and giant robot sightings everywhere from Portland to Albuquerque! What’s going on, Prime? I’ve got the President breathing down my neck demanding to know what the heck you’re going to do about this mess!”
“Agent Barnett, I apologize for the disruption that the Decepticons are causing to your way of life. Rest assured that my Autobots and I are working diligently to rectify the situation.”
“Excuse me...? What kind of robo-call response was that, Prime!?” Barnett fumed. “I need specifics! I need to know exactly how you’re going to dismantle these... these... Decepticons, and more importantly- when are you planning on getting off your rear to do it?”
Optimus Prime put his knuckles down on the console and leaned forward into the monitor. “At approximately twenty-one hundred hours, I will be leading a team of Autobots out into the Pacific Ocean to liberate the Blackrock offshore drilling platform from the clutches of the Decepticons. I advise your military to withdraw to a safe distance... there will be fireworks.”
“Now we’re talking, Prime! About how many troops are participating in tonight’s raid?”
“I haven’t decided on that as of yet, Agent Barnett. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to. Teletraan, end transmission.”
“Prime, now wait a minute now, I-“
Optimus sighed as Barnett’s image disappeared from the screen.
“Do you think that was wise, Prime?” questioned Prowl. He had entered the room a few seconds ago and overheard the tail end of the conversation between the two.
“I see no reason to keep our plans from our human allies.” Optimus replied.
“I can think of two,” countered Prowl. “One, their organization still hasn’t been properly vetted. Two, despite being aware of the terrible danger that their planet is in, they’ve yet to provide us with one drop of fuel to help save it.”
“The human’s political structure is far more complicated than ours ever was... even at the height of our civilization. We’ll get the fuel they promised us eventually. We must be patient with them, Prowl. It’s not their fault that we’re here.”
“Both Hound and Mirage have reported in.” Prowl said, switching the subject. It had suddenly become clear to him that he was getting nowhere with it. Prime just wasn’t going to listen. At least, not in the way Prowl wanted him to.
“Hound has located Hauler.”
“Where is he?”
“The Constructicons are holding him in a cave near the Space Bridge. Scrapper has him separated into pieces.”
Optimus Prime balled up his fist. “Those monsters... what do you think they plan on doing to him?”
Prowl thought for a moment. “Knowing Scrapper, I’d say it’s unlikely he’s planning on making Hauler a part of the Space Bridge like he did poor Bumblebee. He doesn’t like to do the same thing twice. My guess is that he’s either going to try to integrate Hauler into their combined form or-“
“They’re going to convert him into some kind of weapon to use against us.”
“Right. A sadist like Scrapper wouldn’t pass up the opportunity.”
“And what did Mirage report?”
“Same thing as yesterday,” Prowl sighed. “Cubes go over the Bridge, Megatron receives warriors in return. If things keep going at this rate, we’ll be overrun in a matter of weeks.”
“It won’t come to that, Prowl. Wheeljack’s new Energon purifier is a success. Within a few hours we’ll have the fuel we need to strike back at the Decepticons.”
“Good. I’ll start drawing up the strike teams immediately.” Prowl said, pulling out his datapad. “Oh, and one more thing. Grimlock’s been asking to meet with you all day. What do you want me to tell him?”
“Tell Grimlock that I’ll meet with him now,” replied Optimus.
“Ya might wanna postpone that, chief.” Ironhide said, coming over from Ratchet’s repair bay. “Our Decepticon guest is ready to spill his guts.”

(to be continued)
Last edited by 1984forever on Wed Feb 13, 2019 4:30 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Headmaster Jr
Posts: 528
Joined: Sun Oct 03, 2010 6:04 am
Location: Brooklyn NY


Postby 1984forever » Sun Feb 03, 2019 7:00 pm


Skyfire sat on a slab in the repair bay while Ratchet tinkered with something inside his lower back. He watched with fresh optics as Optimus Prime entered the room along with Prowl and Ironhide.
“Thanks for the repairs,” he said. “Although the new blue optic sensors will take some getting used to.”
“This is an Autobot ship,” grumbled Ratchet. “We don’t carry red optic lenses.”
“Count yourself lucky that ya got optics at all, ‘Con!” spat Ironhide.
“Easy Ironhide,” Prime said in a calm voice. “I heard that our guest is now an ex-Decepticon.”
“I assume it was your agent inside Darkmount that informed you of my defection,” smirked Skyfire.
“What makes you think we have a Spy stationed at the Smelting Pool?” inquired Prowl.
“Well, considering the roundabout way in which I arrived here, surely it was not anyone in Iacon. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say that your ‘Bot on the inside is named Counterpunch... he’s too nice. Tell him that he’ll have to incorporate more pettiness into his act if he wants to pass for a real Decepticon.”
“I have no idea who you’re referring to,” Prowl said with a straight face. “Do you, Prime?”
The Autobot leader stood silent. His gaze remained fixated on Skyfire while his facial expression revealed nothing.
“No,” he replied.
“Yeahhh, I didn’t think so.” growled Ironhide. “Mission or no mission, there ain’t an Autobot alive that would stand by and watch his buddies get burned ta slag!”
Skyfire shook his head. “That’s what your superiors would have you believe.”
Optimus took a step toward Skyfire menacingly and stood in front of him with his arms folded. “Skyfire... we are aware that you know of a way to shut down the Space Bridge permanently. You will share that information with us now.”
“The device that you require is called a Proton Nullifier,” explained Skyfire. “It works by rendering the elements contained within the Space Bridge’s circular walls inert.”
“What are these elements?” Prowl inquired.
“I don’t know. I know only that they are rare... and according to Shockwave, no longer exist on Cybertron.”
“Where can we find this device?” asked Optimus.
“It lies somewhere in Sentinel Prime’s vaults. Soundwave learned of it’s existence long ago... back at the beginning of the war. Megatron had yet to acquire a working Space Bridge at the time of Soundwave’s discovery, so the fact that Sentinel Prime had a device that could disrupt it’s operation was of little consequence.”
Optimus turned and put his hand up to his mouthplate. “Sentinel Prime’s vaults have been untouched since his death. Prowl, contact Perceptor on Cybertron and tell him to search for this Proton Nullifier,” he commanded. “Once Perceptor has located it, dispatch the Dinobots to go retrieve it.”


Sentinel Prime had taken the combinations to his vaults with him to the Allspark. Luckily, with the help of Borebit and Corkscrew, it took Perceptor no time at all to gain entry into them and locate the device. The next step was for Prowl to inform Grimlock that he and his Dinobots were needed for another important mission.
This last step proved to be the most difficult. Grimlock had been waiting for an audience with Optimus Prime for hours. The fact that he was being redeployed without his request being fulfilled riled him. His reaction to Prime’s latest command was to pick Prowl up by the neck, carry him down the hall, and return him to Optimus by shoving him face first through one of the repair bay’s sealed doors.
Ratchet had been putting the finishing touches on Skyfire when the five Dinobots burst in. The medic leapt to his feet, his medical tools clattered to the floor.
“Prime!” he exclaimed. “Watch out for Grimlock! He’s gone nuts!”
Ironhide rushed to put himself in between Optimus Prime and the Dinobots. Grimlock looked down and stared the stoic bodyguard in the optics. He stifled a chuckle as Prowl, circuits scrambled by his unexpected outburst, crawled away amidst the wreckage to clear his head.
“Grimlock!” shouted Optimus. “What’s gotten into you?”
Grimlock pointed a finger towards him. “You coward, Optimus Prime. You search for secret weapon to cripple enemy supply line when you should be out crippling enemy! Dinobots warriors, not errand ‘bots... we lose brother so you can chitchat with Decepticon traitor about best way to shut down transportation hub. You want Proton Nullifier? Hop next shuttle back to Cybertron and get it yourself! Dinobots no longer follow your orders!”
Next, Grimlock, having expressed his disdain for Prime’s authority, turned his back and began walking with his followers towards the Ark’s exit.
“Looks to me like you Dinobots are the cowards!” Ironhide railed after them. “Y’all are the ones walking away from a mission!”
Optimus placed a hand on Ironhide’s shoulder, holding him back. “Let them go, Ironhide. We’ll find another way to get the Nullifier.”

(to be continued)
Last edited by 1984forever on Sat Mar 02, 2019 11:31 am, edited 3 times in total.
Headmaster Jr
Posts: 528
Joined: Sun Oct 03, 2010 6:04 am
Location: Brooklyn NY


Postby 1984forever » Tue Feb 12, 2019 6:39 pm


Grimlock sat in the pilot’s seat guiding the Valiant high over Oregon’s mountains, westward, toward the Pacific Ocean.
Slag sat in the co-pilot’s chair demanding answers.
“Why we leave Ark, Grimlock? Why we no stay so you can destroy Optimus Prime and take leadership of Autobots?”
“You slow learner, Slag!” Grimlock shot back. “If that all it take to lead Autobots, then Megatron would have become Prime long ago when he send Sentinel to scrap heap.”
“So where we go now?” asked Slag. “What we do?”
“We go to oil drilling platform Decepticons snatch from humans. Optimus Prime plan to attack Decepticons so he can give it back to humans... me Grimlock have better idea. Us Dinobots get there first, take facility from Decepticons and use it to make own Energon.”
“Autobots still come!” Slag argued. “Autobots take facility from Dinobots instead!”
“Hn. Autobots not stupid, Slag. They want to avoid fight. They try talk first. Reason. By then me Grimlock have Megatron head resting on tip of energo sword.”
Grimlock spun in his chair to face the rear of the vessel. “Swoop!” he called out. “Do recon!”
In the rear of the Valiant, Swoop opened a hatch in the floor and dropped through it. He quickly transformed and glided underneath the ship for a few moments before flying ahead to scout the oil platform.
After circling around the structure a few times he said, “Me Swoop no see nothing!”
“Facility... abandoned?” Grimlock radioed back in disbelief.
Swoop transformed and planted both feet solidly on the deck. “No sign of Decepticons.” he said.
“That impossible!” shouted Grimlock. “Me Grimlock have information that Decepticons producing billions of astro-liters of Energon out of this facility! They not just up and leave it!”
The Dinobot leader brought the Valiant directly over the oil rig and put the ship in park. Then, sword ablaze, he leaped out of the ship and landed with a heavy clank beside Swoop.
Grimlock knelt down and plunged his Energo sword into the deck. “Decepticons trick you, Swoop!” he said. “Dem hiding below... they must be-!”
“But Grimlock,” Swoop reasoned. “There no room for big Decepticon below.”
Grimlock refused to listen. He cut a deep gash into the metal floor and peeled it back to reveal an enormous cache of Energon packed underneath it. Swoop had not noticed this before, but the pinkish glow of the cubes was shining through every gap in the platform’s deck plates. The entire facility had been stuffed to bursting with stacks and stacks of Energon cubes. Swoop bent down to pick one of them up and examine it.
“Why Decepticons leave cubes and go?” he asked.
“Hn. Me not know.” Grimlock grunted. “Maybe they hear Dinobots coming and run back to hidey-hole.”
Above, the remaining Dinobots had gathered around the Valiant’s open floor hatch to see what was happening.
“Me Sludge want to break Decepticons. Where Decepticons at, Grimlock?”
“Gone!” Grimlock shouted, slightly annoyed. “Come Slag, Sludge, Snarl.” he beckoned. “Jump down. Get dinner.”


The mechanic at the air base propped his ladder up against the light gray F-15 parked in front of hangar bay five and peered inside the cockpit. He looked down and double-checked his paperwork. There was no particular listing for this aircraft. Nor was there any for the black F-15 in front of hangar bay four, nor the blue one in front of hangar six. Suddenly, the jet’s dashboard lit up. The mechanic scratched his head. “What the fuhhh-“ He fell off the ladder as the aircraft ignited it’s engines, then he began sliding backwards by the seat of his pants away from the jet as it began to speak.
“Skywarp! Thundercracker! Wake up you morons! We’ve got work to do!”
“What gives, Starscream?” complained Thundercracker. “It’s early!”
“Yeah, something wrong with your chronometer, ‘Screamer?” questioned Skywarp. “We’re not on until twenty-one hundred Earth hours.”
“The motion sensors on the oil rig’s been tripped, you idiots!” Starscream yelled as he began to roll. “Scramble!”


Snarl was the first one to hear the three Seekers approach. He put his half-emptied Energon cube down in mid-guzzle and stared skywards.
“Huhhh... what dat noise, Grimlock?”
Grimlock caught sight of the trio as they appeared over the horizon. “Decepticonnns!” he bellowed.
Four of the Dinobots drew their weapons. The fifth, Swoop, intent on meeting their attackers in the air, changed to alt-mode, but a steady stream of machine gun fire from Skywarp prevented him from gaining any altitude. Then the Seekers dropped the bombs... six in all, released directly over the pit of tightly packed, wall to wall Energon cubes. The resulting explosion was so intense that it caused a seismic shift at the bottom of the ocean, and forced the bombers themselves to seek refuge atop the Dinobot’s ship to escape the burning updraft. The world underneath Starscream, Skywarp and Thundercracker’s feet was ablaze, and the Valiant would serve as a shield against the heat of the inferno burning below.
“That was Grimlock!” yelled Thundercracker.
“So what!” replied Skywarp. “Nothing could survive that blast! Not even the Dinobots!”
“What he means, Skywarp, is that Grimlock wasn’t supposed to be here.” explained Starscream. “Optimus Prime was!”
“Exactly!” said Thundercracker. “Somebody slipped Megatron bad intel.”
“It was one of the flesh creatures!” cackled Starscream. “But that’s Megatron’s mistake for partnering with primitives!”

(to be continued)
Last edited by 1984forever on Wed Mar 06, 2019 5:51 pm, edited 7 times in total.
Headmaster Jr
Posts: 528
Joined: Sun Oct 03, 2010 6:04 am
Location: Brooklyn NY


Postby 1984forever » Fri Feb 15, 2019 5:52 am


The Ark.

“-where four miles off the Oregon coast, our correspondent, Charlene Welles, has a live report-“
“Prime...?” Prowl called out, his optics never leaving Teletraan-1’s monitor screen. “Prime, I think you should see this.”
“What is it, Prowl?” Optimus inquired as he joined Prowl in front of Teletraan-1.
“It’s a live broadcast from a local television station... listen.”
“-less than a half hour ago, three fighter jets attacked the Blackrock offshore oil drilling platform. Witnesses say that the three aircraft then changed into robots and landed atop a spacecraft that had been previously spotted hovering above the facility minutes before the attack-“
“That’s Grimlock’s ship.” Optimus Prime said. “The Valiant.”
“The way that oil rig exploded, Prime... you could tell that Energon was used as an accelerant. The Dinobots stumbled right into a trap! Somehow the Decepticons knew they were coming.”
“Prowl, I want you to fly out to that location and check for survivors. Take Hound, Ratchet, Windcharger and Trailbreaker along with you.” Optimus Prime commanded. “And Prowl...?” he said as the intelligence officer turned to exit. “I want answers.”


Hound searches for pieces of Grimlock’s crew on the ocean floor. Once he locates a part that belongs to one of the Dinobots, he brings it back up to the surface. From there, Windcharger uses his magnetic abilities to raise the part up and bring it aboard the shuttle. Once the part is in Ratchet’s hands, he identifies it and places it in a bin bearing the name of the Dinobot that the piece belongs to. It’s a tedious and time consuming effort. Each of the Dinobot’s brains and sparks have already been located and placed on life support while we try to salvage what’s left of their bodies. Trailbreaker stands atop the shuttle ready to defend it in case the Decepticons come back to finish the job.

Me? I’ve got my own job to do. Optimus says he wants answers and he’s going to get them. I board the Valiant to search for it’s black box. The ship is largely intact—and incredibly, still hovering—but I doubt anyone will be flying it anywhere soon without doing some major repairs. Which reminds me... we Cybertronians have to do a better job about cleaning up our messes. We left an entire spaceship unguarded on the Island of No Return, and the Decepticons actually have two ships resting at the bottom of the Pacific. The Nemesis is one, and the ship that Skyfire and the Constructicons used to bring the Space Bridge to Earth makes two. There’s too much Cybertronian tech lying around—it’s a recipe for disaster. I don’t trust the humans. No, I’m not paranoid like Red Alert. I’ve got good reason not to trust them. I just haven’t found it yet.

I play back the recordings captured on the Valiant’s black box. Riveting stuff, these conversations between Grimlock and his crew... everything from Sludge eating all the Energon-Os to overthrowing Optimus Prime. But it’s the conversation that was held outside the ship that I find to be the most illuminating.

“-that was Grimlock!”
Nothing could survive that blast! Not even the Dinobots!”
“What he means, Skywarp, is that Grimlock wasn’t supposed to be here! Optimus Prime was!”
Exactly! Somebody slipped Megatron bad intel.”
“It was one of the flesh creatures! ahahahahahahhh! But that’s Megatron’s mistake for partnering with primitives-“

I flip up my comm.

“Yes, Prowl?”
“We have to cut all ties with Triple I immediately. They’re working with the Decepticons.”

(to be continued)
Last edited by 1984forever on Thu Mar 14, 2019 4:03 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Headmaster Jr
Posts: 528
Joined: Sun Oct 03, 2010 6:04 am
Location: Brooklyn NY


Postby 1984forever » Sat Feb 23, 2019 8:17 am



The old slave trails underneath Iacon consisted of warped and winding roadways littered with obstacles and debris. Beachcomber’s alt-mode, with it’s large wheels and reinforced struts, was uniquely suited to traverse the uneven terrain of these storied underground pathways. He was thoroughly enjoying this brief excursion to neighboring Kalis. His passenger Blaster however, was not.
Blaster rode inside of Beachcomber’s vehicular-form disguised as a portable interstellar communications console. In this form, Blaster had become accustomed to smooth flights aboard spacecruisers, not rough rides inside his fellow Autobots through old abandoned tunnels. Still, he was relieved to be outside of the city. Not long ago, Blaster had disobeyed a direct command to broadcast an order to evacuate Iacon, choosing instead to put the Great Dome on lockdown. Many thought he had made the right decision to stay and fight. Many more resented him for taking away their right to choose whether they wished to flee the city, or die defending it from the Decepticons.
Soundwave stood on the front lines outside of Iacon’s Great Dome now. His sensors were sure to detect any Autobot traveling underground. In fact, Blaster wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if one of Soundwave’s minions were tracking them from above at this very moment as they moved through the tunnels.
“Meditating back there, Blaster?” Beachcomber inquired. “I’m not used to “the voice of Iacon” being so quiet.”
“Just—oomph—enjoying the ride.” Blaster replied.
“I know what you mean, Blaster. It’s good to get away from that scene in Iacon for awhile. We got Decepti-goons at the gates and Scraplets runnin’ around in our pad. Nnnot cool.”
“Hoist brought ‘em in with him. Mech didn’t even know that he still had ‘em.”
Blaster felt Beachcomber shudder, and it wasn’t because the road was filled with potholes either.
“Scraplets are nasty little critters. Clever too.” Beachcomber said in disgust. “Sometimes they lie dormant, trying to blend in disguised as a bolt or a screw when they see that their host has found a way to get rid of ‘em, but then after awhile they come back online and start feeding again.”
“That is a correct assessment of the nature of Scraplets,” a voice replied. “Fortunately, there are several known cures for Transformers who find themselves infested with them. During the Golden Age, a scientist from Tarn discovered a compound that killed Scraplets on contact in the Sea of Rust. That compound is still in use today.”
Beachcomber stopped in his tracks. “Whoa, heyyy Blaster, who was that!?” he exclaimed.
“That’s my buddy Rewind. Steeljaw, Ramhorn and Eject are along for the ride too.”
“Cool... I forgot you could carry a whole squad inside of your chest like Soundwave.”
“Don’t compare me to that creep. Red Alert wanted to make sure that the Proton Nullifier made it to Kalis safe and sound, so he had me bring the whole crew along as back-up.”
“Oh. Well, heyyy everybody! Welcome to the party!”
“Thank you, Beachcomber,” replied Rewind.
“Yeah! Woo! Glad to be on the winning team!” cheered Eject.


Beachcomber came to a dead-end. “We’re here,” he announced.”
Blaster leaped out and transformed. “Yeah? Where’s “here”?”
Beachcomber grabbed a rung on the wall and began climbing up a long, dark shaft above them toward the surface. Blaster waited until Beachcomber was a few rungs up, and then followed him up the ladder. When the two Autobots could climb no further, Beachcomber rapped on the slab that served as the shart’s ceiling. A pair of green hands slid the heavy piece of scrap metal away and peered down at the two of them.
“Hey, Cosmos!” grinned Beachcomber. “Long time no see.”
Cosmos extended a hand to help his friend climb out of the shaft. “I’ve been in space searching for fuel deposits on asteroids.”
Blaster popped his head up. “Sounds like fun.”
“Believe me, it’s not.” Cosmos replied. “It gets lonely up there.”
“Still, space is the place you wanna be right now,” said Beachcomber. “Autobase is out of Energon and tempers are startin’ to flare—plus we’ve got Scraplets!”
Cosmos’ optics grew wide. “Scraplets! That’s horrible! Maybe I am better off in outer space.” He held out his hand. “Who’s got the Nullifier?” he asked. “As much as I would like to stay and chat, Prime wants me to get it to Earth on the double.”
Blaster removed the rectangular orange object from his thigh compartment, but then he became distracted by his chest door. It was rumbling.
“Uh oh!” he exclaimed. “Steeljaw smells something!” Blaster pressed down a lever on his mid-section releasing him. “Go get ‘em, Steeljaw!”
With a metallic roar, the robotic lion ejected, transformed in mid-air, and bounded down the street with Blaster and Beachcomber trailing after him.
“Blaster, wait!” cried Cosmos. The rotund little Autobot tried his best to keep up with them, but his robot-form simply wasn’t well suited for land--not even on the surface of the metal planet that he was manufactured on.
Cosmos saw the trio turn into a tight alley. He stopped and stared skyward. He would have to switch to alt-mode if he wanted to keep up with them, but his alt-form would be too wide to follow them through the alleyways. “I’ll have to hover above those buildings,” he thought.
Suddenly, Cosmos felt something hot penetrate his forehead. He reached up and clawed at the hole in his cranial casing, desperately trying to pluck out whatever was rapidly burrowing into his brain. There was a burst of static and then Cosmos felt his back stiffen up. It wasn’t until his head locked in place and his arms shot down to their sides that Cosmos came to a horrible realization—he was no longer in control of his own body.
Bombshell crawled down the side of a building and transformed to bot-mode to get a better look at his catch. He folded his arms and cocked his head to one side. “No wheels, no wings... what do you turn into, I wonder? Transform, slave!”
Cosmos felt his parts shift. He couldn’t resist Bombshell’s command... he couldn’t even do a thing to slow down the transformation process. It was like the part of his mind that controlled movement had been clicked off, and the bullet pressing up against his cerebral circuits had become his body’s new brain. The creature responsible for his current state stepped back and marveled at his alt-form.
“A flying saucer, eh?” he chuckled. “That should come in handy! Autobot, consider yourself hijacked!”

(to be continued)
Last edited by 1984forever on Sat May 18, 2019 5:34 pm, edited 4 times in total.
Headmaster Jr
Posts: 528
Joined: Sun Oct 03, 2010 6:04 am
Location: Brooklyn NY


Postby 1984forever » Thu Feb 28, 2019 7:29 pm


The mech that Steeljaw had been pursuing was cornered now. Steeljaw approached him slowly, growling menacingly. Beachcomber skidded to a stop behind him, then he and Blaster both shifted out of their respective alt-forms.
“Easy Steeljaw,” Blaster said in a calm, but stern voice.
Beachcomber shined his fingertip flashlight in the mystery bot’s faceplate. “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize our old pal Cliffjumper?”
Steeljaw stood tense, ready to tear Cliffjumper to pieces if he moved in the slightest.
Blaster knelt down and hugged the animal round the neck. “Stop it, Steeljaw!” he ordered. Steeljaw continued to growl. Blaster looked up at Beachcomber. “He doesn’t usually go on like this,” he said. “Something’s wrong.”
Storm clouds gathered overhead. Blaster heard the rumble of thunder in the distance. His audio receptors picked up something else out there too... something sinister.
“Beachcomber... you hear that?” he asked.
“Uh huh,” Beachcomber replied. “It sounds like... laughter.”
Blaster pressed down a button on his mid-section, it began flashing as he spoke. “Cosmos, come in. Do you read me? Cosmos-“
Suddenly, a bolt of lightning shot from the sky. It struck Blaster squarely in the center of his chest and coursed violently down through his legs, electrifying the metal surface underneath him and his companions. The systems of all three Autobots—plus the ones Blaster carried in his chest—were overloaded instantly. Together, they all fell to the ground like puppet-droids hit with an EMP.
Moments later, the Insecticon responsible for the electrifying sneak attack flew down from the clouds and transformed. He nudged Beachcomber over with his foot, an acrid plume of smoke wafted from underneath the motionless bot’s chest plate. Shrapnel threw his head back and laughed.
“Do you smell that, Kickback Kickback?”
Kickback peered down from the place where he had been spying unnoticed up until this point. “Yes!” the robot grasshopper crowed. “It is the aroma of defeat!”
Shrapnel raised his hand up toward him, electricity crackling between his fingertips. Fearing treachery, the robot grasshopper instinctively began backing away. Then he saw it—a U.F.O moving slowly through the skies toward their position. Kickback leapt down beside Shrapnel and transformed, swiftly drawing his weapon from the small of his back. With a trembling hand, he raised it up, and together both Insecticons took aim at the craft rotating eerily in the skies before them. The side-hatch of the spacecraft hissed open and Bombshell popped out frantically waving his arms.
“Wait! Don’t shoot! It’s me!” he shouted.
Shrapnel laid his de-electrified hand over his Energon pump. “Don’t scare us like that, Bombshell Bombshell!” I almost suffered a pump malfunction function!”
“Yeah!” Kickback chimed in. “We thought the Galactic Council had finally come to exterminate us!”
Bombshell reentered Cosmos and piloted him unskillfully to the ground. Kickback walked over and ran his hands over the enslaved smooth Autobot’s hull.
“Nice catch,” he said. “Room for three in there?”
“Oh, l’ve definetely got room for more!” the slaver of mechs replied. He then hopped out of his living spacecraft and made a bee-line for the pile of scrapped Autobots. He grabbed the biggest one first, holding Blaster steady by the shoulders while he pumped a cerebro-shell from his head-mounted mortar cannon straight into his forehead. After a few astro-seconds, the Autobot’s optics lit up with static indicating that the shell had taken hold Shrapnel and Kickback looked on with great interest. The process in which Bombshell enslaved other mechanoids always fascinated them.
“This one will be eager to wipe our waste ports when he comes back online,” decreed Bombshell.
All three Insecticons began to chuckle. Watching as a slave is forced to debase himself in front of them was almost as enjoyable as disposing of one when it had served it’s purpose. Bombshell grabbed Beachcomber up by the throat. “Next!” he shouted gleefully. A puff of compressed air flew out of his cannon, but no cerebro-shell.
“I must be fresh out,” he groaned.
Kickback tapped Cosmos’ hull with the heel of his foot. “Y’know Shrapnel, we have a spacecraft now. Why share the Energon cubes at Iacon with Shockwave’s lackeys when we could have so much more?”
Shrapnel was intrigued. “What do propose, Kickback Kickback?”
“I say we go straight to the source.”
“To Earth you mean mean?”
“Yeah. Why let Megatron and his groupies hog all that energy out there on that mudball?”
“I agree. Only a fool would believe that Megatron’s not hoarding most of the Energon for himself,” added Bombshell. “If ol’ bucket-head throws us a million astro-liters, best to believe he’s holding back a billion for his personal use.”
“It’s unanimous then, we’re going on a little vacation vacation.”
“What about your slaves, Bombshell?” Kickback inquired. “What are you going to do with them?”
“We’ll take them with us, no need to waste two perfectly good stooges.”
Kickback aimed his gun at the still offline forms of Steeljaw and Beachcomber. “And the rest...?”
“The rest we leave to him.”
Kickback’s head spun around. “To whom?” he inquired. Besides the two Autobots the Insecticons had scrapped, and the three more that they had enslaved, Kickback didn’t see anyone else out there on Kalis’ empty blacked out streets. “To whom are you referring, Bombshell?”
“Ravage. I caught a glimpse of him as I flew over the neighborhood. He’s out there... hiding in the shadows—waiting for us to leave so he can come play with his new toys.”

(to be continued)
Last edited by 1984forever on Sat May 18, 2019 5:13 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Headmaster Jr
Posts: 528
Joined: Sun Oct 03, 2010 6:04 am
Location: Brooklyn NY


Postby 1984forever » Fri Mar 08, 2019 8:43 am


Ravage sniffed at the two Autobots the Insecticons had left behind and recoiled at their scents. Both ‘Bots bore the stench of badly singed circuits about them. Faint whirring noises emanating from within their damaged bodies told him that their self-repair systems were functioning. They would both be back online sometime within the next solar-cycle. A mech like Beachcomber would be easy enough for Ravage to follow once he came back online. The other Autobot, Steeljaw, was a tracker by function—so the probability that he would allow himself to be tracked back to his point of origin was almost too low to calculate.
Ravage only required one functioning Autobot for his purposes. He clamped his jaws around Steeljaw’s tail and then proceeded to drag his body out into the street. Now that Steeljaw had been moved away to a safe distance, Ravage launched his two hip-mounted heat-seeking missiles and reduced his would-be rival to a burnt-out wreck. The deadly Decepticon twisted around quickly to see if the explosion had jarred his intended pawn back online. It didn’t. The Autobot’s status still had not changed... so he slinked off into the shadows to wait until it did.

The Ark.

Jazz burst into the storeroom turned makeshift meeting room with his usual flair. Optimus Prime sat at one end of the table, Prowl was seated at the other.
“Uh oh, what’s this?” Jazz joked. “High command meeting, huh? Better call in Wheeljack to weld this table down to the floor before it gets flipped over!”
Prowl tried to hold back the smile forming on his faceplate. “Welcome back to the land of moving parts, Jazz.”
Prime folded his hands on top of the table. “Alpha Trion isn’t here to question the morality of every course of action that Prowl might suggest, so I believe that our table will remain upright for the duration of this meeting.”
“We’ll keep this short and sweet,” Prowl said. “Your pals at Triple I? They’re actively working with the Decepticons.”
Jazz jerked his thumb back towards the door. “So what are we waitin’ for? Let’s go over there and straighten ‘em out—quick, fast and in a hurry!”
“Oh, I intend to pay the Intelligence and Information Institute a little visit, but not just yet.” Prowl replied. “I’ll let Teletraan-1 reject a few of their calls first while we figure out how best to deal with them.”
“The revelation that any human being would work with the Decepticons is puzzling to say the least, but although we are no longer allied with the Institute, the dissolution of that relationship does not absolve us of our responsibility to the inhabitants of this world.” Optimus Prime decreed. “I’ve summoned you here Jazz, because there is a situation in Bali that I would like you to rectify...”


Jazz stood before Brawn, Sunstreaker, Skyfire and Downshift in the Ark’s staging area ready to brief them on their mission. A map of their destination was displayed on Teletraan-1’s monitor screen.
“Alright troops, this is the situation... three days ago, six Autobots were dispatched to deliver a device called a Proton Nullifier to a courier in Kalis. Somethin’ happened while they were out there—they got ambushed an’ only one of ‘em made it back to Iacon to tell the tale. Now two days ago—Sky Spy spotted the courier, Cosmos, enterin’ Earth’s atmosphere. He landed here,” Jazz said, turning around to point to a dot on the screen, “...on the tropical island of Bali, in an area that the local media has started callin’ “Demon Swamp”. All efforts to contact Cosmos on that island so far have failed.”
“Demon Swamp?” inquired Sunstreaker. “Why have the humans begun calling it that?”
“Simple,” Jazz replied. “Soldiers go in, and they don’t come out. Prime suspects that the Decepticons have a secret base there.”
“Sky Spy can’t see what’s going on down there from space?” Downshift inquired.
“Nope. Too much foliage.” Jazz explained. “So our mission is to fly to Bali, rescue Cosmos, get the Nullifier, and then bring it—and him—back to the Ark.”
“Piece of oil-cake,” Brawn said. “What’s this Protein Nullifier do anyways?”
“Proton Nullifier,” laughed Skyfire. “It is a device designed to permanently disable Space Bridges.”
Brawn slammed his fist into the palm of his hand. “Why can’t we just forget that fancy gizmo, free Cosmos, and then go wreck the Space Bridge ourselves instead?”
Sunstreaker rolled his optics. “What happens when you get wrecked, Brawn?”
Brawn shrugged. “Somebody puts me back together again.”
“Okay then,” replied Sunstreaker. “You just answered your own question.”
“Somebody’s testy,” Jazz smiled. “Any more questions? No...? Good. Follow Skyfire outside... he’s gonna be our flight to Demon Swamp.”
Ratchet was standing by the door as the five Autobots filed out. He reached out and grabbed Jazz’ arm as he walked past.
“Jazz, I gotta talk to you about some of the ‘Bots you chose for this mission...”
“What’s up? What’s wrong with ‘em?”
“Well, first off—Skyfire’s an ex-‘Con!”
“Uh huh, so was Hauler.”
“Let me finish...! Prime asked me to examine Sunstreaker’s cerebral circuitry after he executed Camshaft on the Island of No Return... that scrap that Prowl reported about Sunstreaker being under the influence of some kind of fear-inducing frequency? It was a load of Predacon poop!”
Ratchet pointed down the hall at Sunstreaker, not caring if the accused ‘Bot overheard their conversation. “That Autobot is a murderer, plain and simple! Sunstreaker terminated Camshaft because he wanted to, not because he thought he was in communication with Megatron. In addition, Camshaft just happened to be Downshift’s brother... and right now Downshift is taking his death—along with all the drama surrounding it—hard! His other sibling, Overdrive, is missing... presumed dead. He’s trying to hide it, but Downshift feels like he’s all alone in the world right now. Pick some other ‘Bots, Jazz... or at the very least substitute Hound in for Sunstreaker.”
“Can’t.” Jazz replied. “Hound was my first choice ‘cause of his tracking skills, but he’s needed here to keep tabs on the ‘Con’s movements. This situation we’re walkin’ into? We’re going in blind... so I need the best. Sunstreaker fits that bill. Plus, there’s a good chance that whoever hijacked Cosmos might’ve planted a bomb on him too, so I might need Downshift down there to diffuse it. Look Doc, I’m up to speed about all the scrap that’s been going on around here while I was offline... I didn’t just pull this team outta my tail pipe—I need these mechs ta get the job done right!”
Ratchet shook his head in disagreement. “This whole thing has the potential to turn into something like off of that soap opera “As The Kitchen Sinks”, Jazz. Take my advice... don’t do this to yourself.”
Jazz watched as Sunstreaker, followed by Downshift, drove up the ramp into Skyfire’s cargo hold.
“Too late to make changes to the roster now,” he said. “Wish me luck!”

(to be continued)
Last edited by 1984forever on Thu Apr 18, 2019 8:09 am, edited 3 times in total.
Headmaster Jr
Posts: 528
Joined: Sun Oct 03, 2010 6:04 am
Location: Brooklyn NY


Postby 1984forever » Thu Mar 21, 2019 6:41 pm


Skyfire made the trip from Oregon to Bali without even straining a circuit. In less than fifteen minutes, the Autobots were 8300 hundred miles away in the mysterious expanse of jungle known as Demon Swamp. Brawn rolled down the ramp out of Skyfire’s cargo hold and drove off into the moonlit night. Sunstreaker and Downshift, however, fish-tailed in the mud immediately after rolling off the ramp, collided with each other, and then landed on their rears in robot-mode.
Sunstreaker pointed an accusing finger at Downshift. “You roadway reject! You just scuffed my clear coat!”
“Well maybe your precious clear coat wouldn’t have gotten scuffed if you hadn’t skidded into me, you jerk!” Downshift shot back.
“Keep yapping, Dip-shift! I’m about five seconds away from pounding in your ugly faceplate!” threatened Sunstreaker.
“Oh, yeah?” Downshift screamed. “I’d like to see you try it, you murdering piece of scrap! C’mon!”
Sunstreaker answered Downshift’s challenge, leaping onto the other Autobot and pummeling him as if he were his sworn enemy. Downshift—optics covered with filth and seeing static with each successive blow—threw up his forearms in an effort to shield himself from the hammer fist raining down on him.
Jazz wailed on his horn and switched on his high beams. “C’mon, fellas! Stop this mess! We got an Autobot in distress out there!”
The pair froze up like deer caught in his headlights—with Sunstreaker poised to deliver another haymaker as Downshift lay defeated in the mud. Reluctantly, Sunstreaker stood up and offered his dent-riddled opponent a hand.
“You can’t beat the best,” he grinned.
Downshift swatted Sunstreaker’s hand away and lifted himself up out of the muck. “Brawn’s the only one of us outfitted to drive in this type of terrain,” he grumbled. “The rest of us will have to hoof it.”
Jazz transformed to robot-mode and stuck his foot in the swamp. The murky water went all the way up to his knee joint. “Hm. I see what you’re sayin’. We’ll have to split up. Probably find Cosmos faster that way anyway.”
Downshift slotted a scope onto his rust-rifle. “Makes sense to me,” he said.
“What’s that for?” Jazz inquired. It was common knowledge that a transformers’s targeting systems usually eliminated the need to attach telescopic sights or visual enhancers to their weaponry.
“It’s an X-ray scope,” answered Downshift. “It can see through pretty much anything that’s not metal. Useless on Cybertron—but perfect for an organic alien environment like this one.”
“Good thinking,” Jazz nodded, privately wishing that he had one for himself.
Skyfire transformed and took in his surroundings. As tall as he was, he still had trouble seeing over the massive jungle’s treetops. “Hmm. This swamp is teeming with life... we should watch our step.”
“The Decepticons wouldn’t worry about that,” replied Sunstreaker.
“Good thing we ain’t the ‘Cons,” Jazz retorted. “Move out!”


Kickback watched from the trees in alt-mode as the squad of Autobots advanced into the swamp. Then with a mighty thrust of his hind legs, he hopped off to inform his fellow Insecticons of their arrival.
The Insecticon camp consisted of three upturned tanks along with an assortment of several smaller vehicles. The military personnel that had once been their operators were now deceased—but continued to serve the Insecticons after death as literal zombies. It was Bombshell who first discovered that the electrical current produced by his Cerebro-shells would be sufficient to reanimate the corpse of an organic being once it had been implanted in the subject’s brain. The fiend planned to enslave more humans in this manner when it became necessary for he and his companions to migrate to other areas in search of more fuel, but for now, the gas from the military vehicles that were being driven into Demon Swamp on a daily basis were providing the ravenous trio with much sustenance.
Kickback leapt over the treetops and landed in the middle of the cluttered camp’s grease filled waters with a big splash. “Autobots!” he shrieked. “Our Swamp has become infested with those miserable rolling scrap-piles!”
“There goes the neighborhood neighborhood,” Shrapnel wisecracked.
“This is our home!” Bombshell said. “We should defend it.”
“Bombshell’s right right,” Shrapnel replied, throwing his arms wide. “This is our home, and I’ve grown to like it here here.”
“So we must fight!” exclaimed Kickback.
“Yes, but not alone alone,” Shrapnel decreed. “We Insecticons are unique among the Transformer race, as our environment changes, so do our abilities abilities.”
Bombshell showered the wrecks strewn about them with glowing red dots from his mortar cannon. “Watch as my Insecti-shells inject our living CNA into these un-living bits of scrap metal!”
Seconds later, twin beams of energy shot out of Shrapnel’s antenna to energize the now pulsating pieces of wreckage. “And my clone-beams will provide our insecti-clones with the power they need to reshape themselves in our image image.”
Kickback watched as the remnants of Earth vehicles morphed into alt-formed versions of himself and his comrades. Then laughing uncontrollably with glee, he fired beams out of his own antenna to help hasten the process Shrapnel and Bombshell had begun. When the Insecticons were finished, there were dozens of clones rising up out of the swamp in a swarm that seemed to black out the moon itself.
“Go forth forth! Feed feed!” Shrapnel commanded. “You’ll find plenty of things to devour in Demon Swamp swamp!”


Downshift knelt down on a grassy knoll between two trees and peered through the scope of his rifle. Several hundred yards ahead, Sunstreaker sloshed his way through the swamp with no idea that he was currently in a sniper’s crosshairs.
“Camshaft didn’t deserve to die the way that he did,” Downshift ranted. “Sure all of the evidence pointed to him being a traitor, but who appointed you judge, jury, and executioner? I can’t let you get away with this... if you did it once, you’ll do it again. You’re a threat, and I’ve got to put you out of commission before you destroy anyone else!”
“Who ya talkin’ to, kid?” a voice inquired from behind.
Downshift whirled around and aimed his weapon at the ‘Bot who had questioned him. It was Brawn.
“Whoa, easy! It’s me!” Brawn said, throwing his hands up.
“D-don’t t-try to s-stop me, Brawn!” Downshift stammered. “H-he’s got it c-coming!”
“Have you blown a fuse? What are you talkin’ about?” Brawn focused his optics and caught a glimpse of Sunstreaker walking through the foliage a short distance away.
“Sunstreaker murdered my brother and Prowl tried to cover it up!” Downshift exclaimed. “Why? Just because he’s a good soldier...? Screw that scrap, Brawn! Where’s the justice? If there’s no justice, then everything just falls apart!”
“Do it,” Brawn urged. “Like you said... he’s got it comin’.”
“Y-you’re not going to try and stop me?” Downshift asked incredulously.
“I’ll be honest wit’ ya, Downshift... not everybody’s cool with what Sunstreaker did to your bro. Lotta ‘Bots think he’s a psycho. Even Sideswipe’s got concerns about ‘im.”
Brawn turned to walk away. “If you’re gonna do it, do it.” he said. “Lemme know how it pans out.”
Downshift watched Brawn transform and depart, then he picked up his rifle and peered through it’s scope once again. He could see his target’s outline clearly behind a thick-trunked mangrove tree, but would the beam fired from his weapon still be strong enough to penetrate Sunstreaker’s cranial casing after passing through that tree? He decided not to find out. An errant shot would surely tip Sunstreaker off, and with an opponent as skilled as he was—one shot was all Downshift was going to get.
“I’ll wait until he enters that clearing up ahead,” he thought. “Then—wait, what’s that buzzing noise?”
Downshift looked up and the swarm was upon him.

(to be continued)
Last edited by 1984forever on Sat May 18, 2019 4:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Headmaster Jr
Posts: 528
Joined: Sun Oct 03, 2010 6:04 am
Location: Brooklyn NY


Postby 1984forever » Sat Apr 13, 2019 10:34 pm


The roar of the jet’s engines could be heard for miles. Jazz knew that the incoming aircraft was a Decepticon. In his short time on the planet he had already trained his audio receptors to differentiate between enemies and actual Earth jets—and the modified F-15 flying towards him at nearly mach 3 was definitely not of terrestrial origin.
“Got one Seeker comin’ in hot!” he yelled into his comm. “Try ta find cover if ya can!”


Downshift unleashed a blinding barrage into the swarm that lit up the night. The first few shots were oxidation beams capable of corroding metal on contact. The next thirty were explosive shells that blew the Insecti-clone’s rusty armored plates to pieces. Downshift had recently requested that Wheeljack make some upgrades to his rust-rifle, and it resulted in—arguably—the engineer’s best work in recent memory. All that was needed now was for the weapon to be field-tested. Downshift used the newly upgraded rust-rifle to devastating effect, expertly alternating from beams to bullets and back again. The Insecti-clones—spawned from inferior Earth-made steel—were particularly vulnerable to this type of attack. Corrosion in the clone’s joints slowed them to a standstill, making them easy targets for the concussive force of an explosive shell to reduce them to scrap. Their ranks were being decimated... the problem was that they simply didn’t care. They just kept on coming.
A Kickback clone began biting through Downshift’s right arm while one of Shrapnel’s duplicates went to work on his left. The limb came off between the stag beetle’s mandibles in a shower of sparks at his shoulder joint. Downshift cried out in agony. A cry that was cut short by a cloned Bombshell bursting upward through the ground beneath his feet. Downshift lost his footing and tumbled down the hill entwined with the Kickback clone until both Transformers slammed into a tree at the bottom. Downshift fired, obliterating the clone he had become entangled with.
A multitude of others piled on. He squeezed the trigger again. This time nothing happened—his ammo was completely spent. Downshift began bashing the bugs off with his rifle butt. His attackers were legion. Overwhelming. They swarmed over him... gnawing at his kneecaps and grappling for control of his remaining arm until another Shrapnel clone relieved him of it in much the same way as the first—with one swift, scissor-like motion of of it’s mandibles.
Downshift’s screams seemed to whet the Insecti-clones’ appetites for more of his metal. The sounds of his suffering drove them into a full on feeding frenzy. He was being consumed while still conscious. Two of the voracious creatures detached his legs and skittered off into the swamp followed by a host of others trying—quite literally—to tear the food right out of their mouths.
Downshift was limbless now. Helpless. A greedy locust lunged for his faceplate, it’s foul maw filling his field of vision. In an act of desperation the Omnibot launched both magnetically guided missiles directly into his attacker’s face, blowing it’s head off and nearly destroying himself in the process. Burning bits of metal rained down on the two ruined robotic bodies. The swamp fell silent, it’s fauna frightened away by the sound of the explosion. Downshift sat slumped against a tree, his white armor melted and charred beyond recognition. The mouthplate he wore was missing... one of his optic lenses was broken out to reveal the circular camera set beneath it.
The hungry horde converged on him once again.
“Shoo! Get away from him you vile creatures!” someone yelled from afar.
The Insecti-clones paused briefly as if to consider the unseen voice’s command, then they turned their attentions right back around to Downshift, intent on devouring what little was left of him. Lasers flashed out of the darkness, accompanied by the sizzle of steel as each beam found it’s respective target. Dead Insecti-clones rolled off of Downshift and splashed into the shallow water surrounding him. His Seeker savior stood over him frowning with his hands on his hips.
“Autobot, my name is Nacelle.”
“I know who you are, lackey!” Downshift spat in disgust.
“Silence! You will divulge the details of your current mission or you will be terminated.”
“How do I know you won’t destroy me anyway?”
Nacelle smirked. “You have my word.”
“Uh huh. Tell me, Nacelle... what did you do to get tossed out into the field with the rest of the Genericons?”
The question made Nacelle livid. He never wanted to kill another being more than he did at this very moment. The truth of the matter was that he would rather be back in a lab on Cybertron than standing here in the middle of an alien swamp with organic creatures trying to creep into every crevice... but recently the Seeker had been stripped of his rank and reassigned, a casualty of Starscream’s attempted coup.
“Do not toy with me,” he warned. “As former assistant to Shockwave, I have euthanized several of his failed test subjects. I found blasting them to be as carthartic as streamlining one’s fuselage.”
Nacelle bent down so that he and Downshift were face to face. “I will ask you one more time, Autobot. What is your mission here?”
Downshift was unyielding. “Surrender, Decepticon... and when my friends show up I’ll persuade them to take you prisoner instead of destroying you where you stand.”
“Ah! So there are others! I thought I spotted another of your misbegotten ilk upon my arrival, but when I converted to my primary configuration and conducted a search for him on foot, I found no trace... just an infestation of these infernal Insecticons...! Their activities here are unsanctioned. Megatron will not be pleased.”
Nacelle reached into a hole in Downshift’s chest plate and began wiring several of his internal components into his Spark chamber.
“What are you doing?” Downshift demanded. “Get out of me!”
“There. I’m finished,” Nacelle announced after a few moments. He patted Downshift on the head as he stood up. “I have wired your Spark to explode. Any attempt to remove you for repairs shall result in a detonation that will critically damage all in the immediate vicinity.”
Downshift cursed Nacelle as he walked away. He could hear the Seeker sloshing through the swamp until that sound seemed to stop abruptly. Then he heard Nacelle pleading for his life. A weapon was discharged... followed by the sound of something—presumably a body—hitting the water. Downshift bowed his head. The action that was taken—the decision to terminate Nacelle as he begged for his life—revealed to Downshift the identity of the executioner as if his name had been spoken aloud—Sunstreaker.
The ‘Bot in question burst out of the foliage in front of Downshift crowing about his latest victory.
“Should’ve seen me back there, Downshift! The way I just offed this big Decepti-geek-“
Sunstreaker’s optics widened as he took notice of Downshift’s damages for the first time. “Whoa!” he exclaimed. “What happened to you?”
“That “big Decepti-geek” you just scrapped wired me up to explode!”
“Oh wow, hey... you know I would diffuse you—I know you’re an expert at this sort of thing, and that you’d walk me through it—but I left my other hand back on Cybertron... and you how difficult it is to diffuse a bomb with one hand and all. Plus, I mean just look at you... you’re totaled! You won’t last much longer out here.”
Downshift nodded as Sunstreaker continued his charade of an explanation until the sociopath aimed his gun-arm at him.
“It’s better this way,” he said. “No use of us both getting scrapped.”
Downshift sighed. “I figured you’d say that. You could call Jazz to do it, y’know.”
“Nahhh... you know Jazz, he’s probably busy doing something heroic right now and this is such an important mission... why bother the guy?” he shrugged.
Downshift shook his head. “Why do you even wear that symbol, Sunstreaker? You’re not an Autobot... not in any way that counts.”
“I like the way it looks.” Sunstreaker put his index finger up to his lips. “Shush now,” he whispered. “This won’t hurt a bit.”
Sunstreaker fired. Downshift’s Spark casing blew apart, exposing the ball of light within. The Spark flared brightly—it’s hue changing from a transparent blue to a solid white—before shrinking to nothingness. The light faded from Downshift’s optics, his head fell down toward the gaping hole in his chest.
Sunstreaker smiled. “You’re with your brothers now. Rust in peace.”

(to be continued)
Last edited by 1984forever on Sat May 18, 2019 8:30 am, edited 1 time in total.
Headmaster Jr
Posts: 528
Joined: Sun Oct 03, 2010 6:04 am
Location: Brooklyn NY


Postby 1984forever » Tue May 07, 2019 5:57 pm


A tree branch snapped as Skyfire crept through the swamp. He paused to watch a snake slither out of his way before continuing on his path. He often found himself stopping frequently to take in the smells, sights, and sounds of this new earthen environment. As a former scientist and explorer Skyfire believed that he respected all life in it’s myriad forms... he was about to prove himself utterly wrong.

Ahead, gathered in a large clearing, were over a dozen Insecti-clones. Skyfire’s optics flared with uncontrolled rage! To him, these newly minted Transformers resembled three of the most sadistic beings he had ever encountered—Kickback, Shrapnel, and Bombshell. The Seeker-turned-Autobot soldier leveled his double-barreled laser rifle and lit into the unsuspecting swarm until they were nothing but smoking piles of scrap. When he finally stopped firing, robotic insect parts littered the landscape for as far as the optic could see. A sense of satisfaction washed over him as his cooling systems kicked in.
“Damn that felt good,” he said.


Inside the Insecticon camp, the sixty or so human slaves spit-shining their metal-masters to polished perfection suddenly ceased their endeavors and ran full-tilt into the surrounding woods. Hidden in the underbrush, Jazz watched the entire spectacle with his finger on the trigger of his photon rifle. Behind his unwary targets, another more brightly clad figure stirred... stalking the trio from behind.
“That you, Sunstreaker?” Jazz radioed.
“Yup.” Sunstreaker radioed back. “I see you over there.”
“Any sign of Cosmos?”
“Nope... I did come across Downshift, though. He’s dead. What’s the situation here?”
Jazz paused for a moment before he spoke. Sunstreaker’s callousness still had a way of unsettling him.
“Boss stage,” he answered. “The three ‘Cons you see in front of ya are runnin’ the whole show. They got the raggediest buncha humans I’ve ever seen at their beck an’ call. Huh, and judgin’ the way they jumped up and took off, they’re most likely mind controlled.”
“We could catch these creeps easy in a crossfire, Jazz...”
“Probably wind up lightin’ each other up too in the process. We can’t risk gettin’ scrapped before we’ve even laid optics on the Nullifier or Cosmos.”
“So what’s the plan?”
“We do this with style. Follow my lead.”
Jazz stood up and waved his arms. His voice boomed from the speakers that slid out of either side of his waist as he began to speak.
“Hey, fellas! This new spot you got—Club Con... it’s a dump! Now be nice and tell a ‘Bot where he can go to get his Shanix back!”
“Insolent Autobot fool fool!”
Shrapnel fired in Jazz’ direction. The 30-pound steel ball produced by his weapon exploded in mid-air, raining down deadly razor-sharp spikes that stripped the entire area of foliage. Devoid of cover, there shouldn’t have been anywhere for the Autobot Special Ops agent to hide. But still... he was nowhere to be found. Bewildered, Shrapnel began a search for the invader and was struck down immediately by an electron burst that left him laying in the mud with his circuits sizzling.
Bombshell spun around to see where the shot had come from and got blasted by the same foe firing from the bushes that had laid Shrapnel low. Sunstreaker’s last shot revealed his position. Kickback opened up on him full-auto a moment before Jazz emerged from a bog to gun the Insecticon down.
“Sorry about that, Sunstreaker!” yelled Jazz. “Mud was harder to move in than I thought... slowed me up a bit. You alright?”
Sunstreaker stood up and rubbed the trail of scorch marks stitched across his chest. “Yeah. That loser’s bullets couldn’t penetrate my polymer-steel skin.”
Jazz squatted down, grabbed Kickback by the antenna and shoved his gun in his faceplate.
“It’s question and answer time,” he told the Insecticon. “I ask the questions, you provide the answers. Got it?”
Kickback couldn’t move his head much with Jazz maintaining a firm grip on his antenna, but he managed to nod his head “yes”.
“Where’s Cosmos?”
“Inside of our bellies!” Kickback blurted out. He had two guns in his face now—Jazz and Sunstreaker’s. His nervousness was becoming evident.
“B-Bombshell lost control upon entering this planet’s atmosphere. We crashed. Your friend was irreparably damaged and we... we were soo hungry!”
The tip of Sunstreaker’s gun-arm crackled. Jazz warned him with a glare that said “not yet.”
“So what about the Proton Nullifier? Didja have that for lunch too?”
“No, but it sounds delicious delicious!”
Both Autobots whirled around and pointed their weapons at the Insecticon with the creepy voice behind them—intent on putting Shrapnel down permanently. They only required one prisoner for purposes of interrogation, and Kickback was proving to be their mech. Suddenly, their targeting systems seized before they could fire off a shot!
“Nnng. Electronic scrambler waves,” groaned Sunstreaker. “Feeling dizzy...”
Sunstreaker’s limbs buckled as he collapsed into a heap on top of Jazz. When his vision cleared, he saw two faces that he recognized immediately—Blaster and Cliffjumper.
“Unnnh... what is it about this mudball that makes everyone wanna show their true colors?” he whined.
The duo stared down at him as if he hadn’t uttered a word.
“I don’t think they can hear ya, man,” Jazz said. “They’re there, but they’re not there... you catch my drift?”
Blaster slung the still warm electro-scrambler that he used to down his two former comrades over his shoulder and helped Bombshell to his feet. The Insecticon’s Insecti-clones gathered slowly behind them.
Sunstreaker began to count. “Six. Seven. Eight. Nine-“
“Y’know Sunstreaker... the humans got a sayin’ for situations like this.”
“Yeah, Jazz? What is it?”
“All bad.”

(to be continued)
Headmaster Jr
Posts: 528
Joined: Sun Oct 03, 2010 6:04 am
Location: Brooklyn NY


Return to Fan-Fiction

Featured Products on

Buy "Transformers: Generations Power of The Primes Legends Class Autobot Tailgate" on AMAZON
Buy "Transformers Attacker 15 Bania Action Figure" on AMAZON
Buy "Transformers Deluxe 20 Mercenary Action Figure" on AMAZON
Buy "Transformers: Generations Power of The Primes Leader Evolution Rodimus Prime" on AMAZON
Buy "Transformers: Generations Power of The Primes Legends Class Autobot Outback" on AMAZON
Buy "Transformers Studio Series 08 Leader Class Movie 1 Decepticon Blackout" on AMAZON
Buy "Transformers Deluxe Ratchet Action Figure" on AMAZON
Buy "Masterpiece MPM-7 Bumblebee" on AMAZON
Buy "Transformers Generations Titans Return Autobot Infinitus and Sentinel Prime" on AMAZON
Buy "Transformers Generations Titans Return Titan Master Grax and Skullsmasher" on AMAZON
Buy "Transformers Generations Combiner Wars Deluxe Class Wheeljack" on AMAZON
Transformers Podcast: Twincast / Podcast #222 - The Real Ghostbusters
Twincast / Podcast #222:
"The Real Ghostbusters"
MP3 · iTunes · RSS · View · Discuss · Ask
Posted: Sunday, May 12th, 2019

New Items on eBay

Buy "Transformers Power of the Primes SOLUS PRIME Prime Master" on EBAY
Buy "NIB Transformers Generations Power of the Primes Quintus Prime Master White Face" on EBAY
Buy "Transformers Titans Return Power of the Primes Lot Novastar Moonracer Jazz More" on EBAY
Buy "Transformers Vector Prime Cybertron Voyager Prime Safeguard Figure" on EBAY
Buy "Transformers Generations War For Cybertron: Siege - Cog Weaponizer Deluxe Figure" on EBAY
Buy "Transformers Power Of The Primes Cindersaur Dinobot" on EBAY
Buy "Transformers Generations Power of The Primes Legends Class - Skrapnel" on EBAY