Six Short fics
Title: Unnecessary Alerts
Rating: K
Continuity: TF-Prime
Characters: Arcee, Cliffjumper, Will Fowler
Summary: Why is there no warning alert when the hidden entrance to the Omega Outpost One is used? Because it's been permanently disabled.
Prompt: #1 Early Warning
“Blasted Alarms!” Clliffjumper snarled as the wailing klaxons pierced his audios. “I know we’ve got incoming! Arcee - how do you shut off the annoying alarms?”
The cerulean Autobot femme was busy at the computer inputting various programs. “Don’t ask me - Fowler’s the one who programmed the stupid alert system.”
The red Autobot stepped back hands changing into his favorite blaster when …
Blessed silence.
“What did you do?” Cliffjumper asked Arcee, even as she said, “What did I do?” Neither one noticed the cargo-elevator slowly drop down to the ground floor.
“Where’s Ratchet?” Special Agent William Fowler demanded to know the instant the doors slid open far enough for him to squeeze through.
“Not here.” Cliffjumper responded in a much softer tone now that the shrieking alarms had stopped making noise. “ He’s out in Chicago or someplace.”
“Can we permanently turn off the alert system?” Arcee asked as William Fowler stepped back into the elevator. “We heard you incoming long before the warning notified us of your imminent arrival.”
Fowler looked at the jury-rigged set-up. “Surprised one of you bots didn’t try blowing the whole thing top pieces.” He input a few commands on a lone computer. “There - that should do it - anything else before I go tearing a strip off Ratchet’s hide for messing with my plane?”
Cliffjumper and Arcee shared amused glances. “No, that should do it.”
Title: Risky proposition
Warnings/content advice: none
Rating: K+
Continuity: Generation 1
Characters: Mirage, Optimus Prime
Summary: Mirage took a chance when he realized he couldn't simply sit back and watch his world be destroyed.
Prompt: #2 Scenario: A character decides to go against common opinion.
“The mech’s a traitor.”
“Can’t trust any of his ilk.”
“Why isn’t he with his friends, ignoring the war?”
“Everybody knows nobles can’t speak the truth.”
Mirage held his head high, ignoring the hate-filled whispers following in his wake. It was lubricous to believe a noble - any noble - would willingly walk into an Autobot base.
“”Good-for-nothing cultured barbarian!”
“Egotistical, self-centered snobs!”
“A traitor to his own.”
“Bah! Towersmechs - always stinking up the place.”
Harsh laughter filled the hallways as the stately mech walked to the Prime’s office, waiting for permission from the mechs inside to procede further. He had an appointment with the Prime; one no one else had been notified of.
“What’s he going to do? Assassinate the Prime?”
“Trust him? Ha! I don’t think so.”
“Despicable - letting strangers just waltz around as if they own the place.”
“Probably sold out his own class to get here.”
Mirage waited as the Prime’s bodyguard scanned and searched him for any weapons that might harm the Prime.
There was no approving nod, or even a hit of satisfaction or delight when no weaponry - offensive or defensive in nature - was located on his frame or in his subspace. There was just a neutral, simmering gaze as the massive, well armed mech stepped aside after finding nothing.
Mirage tilted his head down microscopically before addressing the leader of the Autobots. “Prime.” The head was back up almost immediately. If one hadn’t been watching him intently, the motion would have been missed. “I wish to join your forces.” He stated before the red-and-blue mech could return the greeting.
Arctic blue optics gazed- not cool, with buried anger, but calmly and openly - studying the sole noble standing in front.
After a breem of intense scrutiny, a cobalt-blue hand reached over and planted itself on Mirage’s pale-white shoulder, “I welcome you to the Autobots. My designation is Optimus.”
“Mirage.” Both mechs paid no heed to the bodyguard’s astonished stuttering. Or the future complaints of every mech that learned of the new addition.
“It’s a trap I warn you!”
“Gotta be a diversion.”
“He’ll show his true colors just when you need him most.”
“Probably bought his way into the army.”
Title: Stranded
Warnings/content advice: None
Rating: K
Continuity: TF-Prime
Characters: Ratchet, Smokescreen
Summary: The heart of a jungle is no one's best friend: even autonomous robotic organisms go out of their way to avoid the untouched lands.
Prompt: #3 A dense Jungle
“You just had to bridge us to the Amazon Basin, didn’t you.” Ratchet grumbled, tugging tat the entrapping vines wrapped in his wheel-well. “This is why I don’t let anyone else touch the control panel.”
Smokescreen, buried up to his knees in thick vegetative mud, looked up. “Where are the stars? Are we even outside?”
“Yes we’re outside - do you really think the humans could build an edifice of this size?” Ratchet let his medical blades - cutlasses - emerge from hidden wrist sheaths. “I hate obnoxious, overbearing plant life!”
Smokescreen scrambled towards the nearest tree, desperate to find semi-solid footing before the soggy ground could swallow him completely. “That’s the canopy way up there? Seems impossibly thick.”
Vines no longer wrapped around his frame, Ratchet tried the communication link again. “Ratchet to base: Arcee do you read me?”
Static answered the repeated calls for assistance.
“Maybe all we have to do is find a clearing?” Smokescreen examined the jungle area they’d been deposited in. “Once I find a clearing that is.” Overhead thunder had both Autobots reflectively glancing towards the hidden sky.
“Terrific.” Ratchet retracted his tools. “This day can get worse.” Tepid rainwater poured out in torrents, flooding the area.
“And me without an umbrella.” Smokescreen half-heartedly jested before he got drenched.
Title: Just an FYI
Warnings/content advice: None
Rating: K
Continuity: Any/all - G1 or IDW
Characters: Any (Soundwave)
Summary: Communications mech have lots of time to talk, right?
Prompt: #4 Write a fic/letter that ‘Sets the record straight’
Soundwave was the first to recieve all incoming electronic mail - it was impossible for him not to be aware of the electronic information coming and going to the Decepticon base
Brother, it has been so long since we last got together to simply talk. I’m beginning to think you’ve been deliberately avoiding me.
And why is that? Because our methodology towards achieving our goals is so different? I confess, I want the same thing you did: Freedom from the despot Senate and a reduction (try complete overhaul) in the regulations that dictate what we can and cannot do with our earnings.
I also wanted a complete removal of the cast laws - the ability to choose to do anything that I want appeals to me. Obviously, some of the sparkling desires I expressed were not physically possible or even sanely reasonable.
So, why are we letting the ways our respective leaders attempted to making the goal of freedom - personal, class, and group - such a huge division? Should violence continually separate us? Keep us at cross-purposes forever?
By working together, anything is possible!
The despot has been overthrown! Unsabotaged negotiations would end this conflict and stop this continuing pointless loss of spark and materials. Why continued to drag on the war?
Soundwave deleted the message without hesitation or regret.
Title: First-strike.
Rating: Teens
Continuity: Any (G1)
Characters: Acid Storm,
Summary: The civil war that destroyed Cybertron wouldn't have lasted this long if surviving mechs didn't have reason to fight, kll, and destroy the enemy, no matter the cost.
Prompt: #5 “A large, slow moving target.”
“Yeah, you better run for it!” Acid Storm crackled, firing one last time into the crowd of retreating mechs. “What’s next?”
Rangefinder scanned the skies. “That one.” He pinged the trine leader.
“Nice.” Acid Storm abandoned his bombing run on the broken city. Rangefinder and Flotsam rose up to attack vectors. “They should have stayed in their bunkers.” Acid Storm fired.
The fleeing shuttlecraft, laden with wounded civilians, shuddered under the barrage. As more Seekers joined in the attack, the shuttle lost altitude drastically.
No one waited for the neutral craft to crash before another unescorted fright transport - hauling more civilians - was attacked. It’s fuel tanks ruptured and blew.
Flying through the cloud of fire and burning energon, Acid Storm continued crackling, drawing the attention of the airborne Ramjet, Dirge, Thrust, and other seekers.
Acid Storms Trine, the Conehead Trine, the triple changers, and others continued their uninterrupted assault on the panicked, unarmored civilians.
There would be no last minute rescue - the ground bound Decepticon army slaughtering the overwhelmed defenders made sure of that.
Title: Past influences
Warnings/content advice: None
Rating: K
Continuity: Any - G1 or IDW
Characters: Kup,
Summary: After peace has come, the new generation doesn't know why Decepticons and Autobots were unable to 'simply be friends'. Kup (and other storytellers) keep the history alive, by sharing their experiences, and events that need to be remembered.
Prompt: #6 Write a fic that includes the following “… and at that point, everything changed …”
“In almost no time at all, Megatron had complete control of Kaon, and the illegal Pits. His forces might have started out as brutish gladiators with more firepower than processing capacity, but Megatron himself had an unrivaled ability to sweet-talk everyone into joining his cause, to give everything they had towards the purpose of building an unstoppable revolution.”
Kup had forgotten he had an open cube of high-grade in his hands. As he talked, he gestured animatedly and the liquid contents threatened to splash the closest listeners more than once.
“The Senate - Sentinel Prime and everyone else in power - ignored the warnings. The threats issued by the disenfranchised. Sentinel Prime and his bosses trusted their unchallenged, untested Enforcers would be enough to stop the gladiator’s relentless charge. Alas, many of the mechs - all who had never before faced battle - panicked and faltered. The few who didn’t crash, rallied around Sentinel Prime, desperate to keep the Prime safe.
“They failed. In that one fatal swoop, Megatron’s efforts to irradiate the entire body of leadership appeared to have succeeded.”
Kup glanced down, realized he still had half his drink left, paused just long enough to drain the cube fore continuing.
“Non one before had ever come close to assassinating a Prime. With Sentinel Prime’s untimely demise everything just changed. (Even though Shadowfleet managed to hide the Matrix of Leadership and keep if from the vengeance-filled Decepticions, no Autobot would dare to hope something or someone else could stop the rampaging monster).
“If Orion Pax had not been accepted by the Matrix, Megatron would have finished his conquest of Cybertron, blinding the survivors to the putrid hatred of his spark by word alone.
“Optimus Prime broke the spell, and many saw the horrors they committed. Some chose to abandon the Decepticon cause, changing their allegiance to neutral status. Some killed themselves. Some joined the Autobots, working to rebuild what they had helped destroy."
Rating: K
Continuity: TF-Prime
Characters: Arcee, Cliffjumper, Will Fowler
Summary: Why is there no warning alert when the hidden entrance to the Omega Outpost One is used? Because it's been permanently disabled.
Prompt: #1 Early Warning
“Blasted Alarms!” Clliffjumper snarled as the wailing klaxons pierced his audios. “I know we’ve got incoming! Arcee - how do you shut off the annoying alarms?”
The cerulean Autobot femme was busy at the computer inputting various programs. “Don’t ask me - Fowler’s the one who programmed the stupid alert system.”
The red Autobot stepped back hands changing into his favorite blaster when …
Blessed silence.
“What did you do?” Cliffjumper asked Arcee, even as she said, “What did I do?” Neither one noticed the cargo-elevator slowly drop down to the ground floor.
“Where’s Ratchet?” Special Agent William Fowler demanded to know the instant the doors slid open far enough for him to squeeze through.
“Not here.” Cliffjumper responded in a much softer tone now that the shrieking alarms had stopped making noise. “ He’s out in Chicago or someplace.”
“Can we permanently turn off the alert system?” Arcee asked as William Fowler stepped back into the elevator. “We heard you incoming long before the warning notified us of your imminent arrival.”
Fowler looked at the jury-rigged set-up. “Surprised one of you bots didn’t try blowing the whole thing top pieces.” He input a few commands on a lone computer. “There - that should do it - anything else before I go tearing a strip off Ratchet’s hide for messing with my plane?”
Cliffjumper and Arcee shared amused glances. “No, that should do it.”
Title: Risky proposition
Warnings/content advice: none
Rating: K+
Continuity: Generation 1
Characters: Mirage, Optimus Prime
Summary: Mirage took a chance when he realized he couldn't simply sit back and watch his world be destroyed.
Prompt: #2 Scenario: A character decides to go against common opinion.
“The mech’s a traitor.”
“Can’t trust any of his ilk.”
“Why isn’t he with his friends, ignoring the war?”
“Everybody knows nobles can’t speak the truth.”
Mirage held his head high, ignoring the hate-filled whispers following in his wake. It was lubricous to believe a noble - any noble - would willingly walk into an Autobot base.
“”Good-for-nothing cultured barbarian!”
“Egotistical, self-centered snobs!”
“A traitor to his own.”
“Bah! Towersmechs - always stinking up the place.”
Harsh laughter filled the hallways as the stately mech walked to the Prime’s office, waiting for permission from the mechs inside to procede further. He had an appointment with the Prime; one no one else had been notified of.
“What’s he going to do? Assassinate the Prime?”
“Trust him? Ha! I don’t think so.”
“Despicable - letting strangers just waltz around as if they own the place.”
“Probably sold out his own class to get here.”
Mirage waited as the Prime’s bodyguard scanned and searched him for any weapons that might harm the Prime.
There was no approving nod, or even a hit of satisfaction or delight when no weaponry - offensive or defensive in nature - was located on his frame or in his subspace. There was just a neutral, simmering gaze as the massive, well armed mech stepped aside after finding nothing.
Mirage tilted his head down microscopically before addressing the leader of the Autobots. “Prime.” The head was back up almost immediately. If one hadn’t been watching him intently, the motion would have been missed. “I wish to join your forces.” He stated before the red-and-blue mech could return the greeting.
Arctic blue optics gazed- not cool, with buried anger, but calmly and openly - studying the sole noble standing in front.
After a breem of intense scrutiny, a cobalt-blue hand reached over and planted itself on Mirage’s pale-white shoulder, “I welcome you to the Autobots. My designation is Optimus.”
“Mirage.” Both mechs paid no heed to the bodyguard’s astonished stuttering. Or the future complaints of every mech that learned of the new addition.
“It’s a trap I warn you!”
“Gotta be a diversion.”
“He’ll show his true colors just when you need him most.”
“Probably bought his way into the army.”
Title: Stranded
Warnings/content advice: None
Rating: K
Continuity: TF-Prime
Characters: Ratchet, Smokescreen
Summary: The heart of a jungle is no one's best friend: even autonomous robotic organisms go out of their way to avoid the untouched lands.
Prompt: #3 A dense Jungle
“You just had to bridge us to the Amazon Basin, didn’t you.” Ratchet grumbled, tugging tat the entrapping vines wrapped in his wheel-well. “This is why I don’t let anyone else touch the control panel.”
Smokescreen, buried up to his knees in thick vegetative mud, looked up. “Where are the stars? Are we even outside?”
“Yes we’re outside - do you really think the humans could build an edifice of this size?” Ratchet let his medical blades - cutlasses - emerge from hidden wrist sheaths. “I hate obnoxious, overbearing plant life!”
Smokescreen scrambled towards the nearest tree, desperate to find semi-solid footing before the soggy ground could swallow him completely. “That’s the canopy way up there? Seems impossibly thick.”
Vines no longer wrapped around his frame, Ratchet tried the communication link again. “Ratchet to base: Arcee do you read me?”
Static answered the repeated calls for assistance.
“Maybe all we have to do is find a clearing?” Smokescreen examined the jungle area they’d been deposited in. “Once I find a clearing that is.” Overhead thunder had both Autobots reflectively glancing towards the hidden sky.
“Terrific.” Ratchet retracted his tools. “This day can get worse.” Tepid rainwater poured out in torrents, flooding the area.
“And me without an umbrella.” Smokescreen half-heartedly jested before he got drenched.
Title: Just an FYI
Warnings/content advice: None
Rating: K
Continuity: Any/all - G1 or IDW
Characters: Any (Soundwave)
Summary: Communications mech have lots of time to talk, right?
Prompt: #4 Write a fic/letter that ‘Sets the record straight’
Soundwave was the first to recieve all incoming electronic mail - it was impossible for him not to be aware of the electronic information coming and going to the Decepticon base
Brother, it has been so long since we last got together to simply talk. I’m beginning to think you’ve been deliberately avoiding me.
And why is that? Because our methodology towards achieving our goals is so different? I confess, I want the same thing you did: Freedom from the despot Senate and a reduction (try complete overhaul) in the regulations that dictate what we can and cannot do with our earnings.
I also wanted a complete removal of the cast laws - the ability to choose to do anything that I want appeals to me. Obviously, some of the sparkling desires I expressed were not physically possible or even sanely reasonable.
So, why are we letting the ways our respective leaders attempted to making the goal of freedom - personal, class, and group - such a huge division? Should violence continually separate us? Keep us at cross-purposes forever?
By working together, anything is possible!
The despot has been overthrown! Unsabotaged negotiations would end this conflict and stop this continuing pointless loss of spark and materials. Why continued to drag on the war?
Soundwave deleted the message without hesitation or regret.
Title: First-strike.
Rating: Teens
Continuity: Any (G1)
Characters: Acid Storm,
Summary: The civil war that destroyed Cybertron wouldn't have lasted this long if surviving mechs didn't have reason to fight, kll, and destroy the enemy, no matter the cost.
Prompt: #5 “A large, slow moving target.”
“Yeah, you better run for it!” Acid Storm crackled, firing one last time into the crowd of retreating mechs. “What’s next?”
Rangefinder scanned the skies. “That one.” He pinged the trine leader.
“Nice.” Acid Storm abandoned his bombing run on the broken city. Rangefinder and Flotsam rose up to attack vectors. “They should have stayed in their bunkers.” Acid Storm fired.
The fleeing shuttlecraft, laden with wounded civilians, shuddered under the barrage. As more Seekers joined in the attack, the shuttle lost altitude drastically.
No one waited for the neutral craft to crash before another unescorted fright transport - hauling more civilians - was attacked. It’s fuel tanks ruptured and blew.
Flying through the cloud of fire and burning energon, Acid Storm continued crackling, drawing the attention of the airborne Ramjet, Dirge, Thrust, and other seekers.
Acid Storms Trine, the Conehead Trine, the triple changers, and others continued their uninterrupted assault on the panicked, unarmored civilians.
There would be no last minute rescue - the ground bound Decepticon army slaughtering the overwhelmed defenders made sure of that.
Title: Past influences
Warnings/content advice: None
Rating: K
Continuity: Any - G1 or IDW
Characters: Kup,
Summary: After peace has come, the new generation doesn't know why Decepticons and Autobots were unable to 'simply be friends'. Kup (and other storytellers) keep the history alive, by sharing their experiences, and events that need to be remembered.
Prompt: #6 Write a fic that includes the following “… and at that point, everything changed …”
“In almost no time at all, Megatron had complete control of Kaon, and the illegal Pits. His forces might have started out as brutish gladiators with more firepower than processing capacity, but Megatron himself had an unrivaled ability to sweet-talk everyone into joining his cause, to give everything they had towards the purpose of building an unstoppable revolution.”
Kup had forgotten he had an open cube of high-grade in his hands. As he talked, he gestured animatedly and the liquid contents threatened to splash the closest listeners more than once.
“The Senate - Sentinel Prime and everyone else in power - ignored the warnings. The threats issued by the disenfranchised. Sentinel Prime and his bosses trusted their unchallenged, untested Enforcers would be enough to stop the gladiator’s relentless charge. Alas, many of the mechs - all who had never before faced battle - panicked and faltered. The few who didn’t crash, rallied around Sentinel Prime, desperate to keep the Prime safe.
“They failed. In that one fatal swoop, Megatron’s efforts to irradiate the entire body of leadership appeared to have succeeded.”
Kup glanced down, realized he still had half his drink left, paused just long enough to drain the cube fore continuing.
“Non one before had ever come close to assassinating a Prime. With Sentinel Prime’s untimely demise everything just changed. (Even though Shadowfleet managed to hide the Matrix of Leadership and keep if from the vengeance-filled Decepticions, no Autobot would dare to hope something or someone else could stop the rampaging monster).
“If Orion Pax had not been accepted by the Matrix, Megatron would have finished his conquest of Cybertron, blinding the survivors to the putrid hatred of his spark by word alone.
“Optimus Prime broke the spell, and many saw the horrors they committed. Some chose to abandon the Decepticon cause, changing their allegiance to neutral status. Some killed themselves. Some joined the Autobots, working to rebuild what they had helped destroy."