TF - Best Laid Plans"Best Laid Plans"
Red Alert wrung his hands in concern, watching as a troop of Autobot warriors vanished down the road from the Ark, a dust cloud kicking up their wake and the Aerialbots flying off overhead. Normally, such a small rescue team wouldn't be of concern to the Security Director...except that they were the fourth one to leave in the last three days.
A few days prior, a call for help from Cybertron's Autobot femme resistance force regarding some troublesome activity from Shockwave and his drone army reached the Ark, causing Ironhide, Mirage, Smokescreen and Powerglide to climb aboard Omega Supreme for a flight home to kick a little aft. Then, late last night, word reached the Autobots from Kuwait that the country's oil fields were under heavy assault from not only the Insecticons, but the Constucticons as led by Megatron, as well. Optimus Prime gathered a force consisting of Bluestreak, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Trailbreaker, Warpath, Gea
.:Ratchet's Resignation:..:Ratchet's Resignation:..:Ratchet's Resignation:. in General Fiction More Like This
Dear Commanding Officer/Waste of Parts/Annoyance of the Millennium Award Winner/Pentium Reliant Collection of Scrap/Ruiner of My Life at Large/ Son of an iMac: (Del. As applicable)</i>
As a graduate of an institution of higher education known as the Medical Academy of Iacon and holder of a senior role in your staff, I have a few very basic expectations. Chief among these is that my direct superiors have an intellectual capacity that ranges above that of the common hexnut. After your consistent annoying and harassment of my co-workers and myself during the commission of our duties over the past twelve million years, I can only surmise that you are one of the few true technological and mechanical wastes of our time.
Asking me, a highly qualified, senior medical technician, to explain every little nuance of everything I do each time you happen to stroll into my office is not only a waste of time, but also a waste of precious oxygen, fuel and proc
.:Medical Observations:..:You Know You're An Autobot Medic When:..:Medical Observations:. in General Fiction More Like This
o You believe that all fluid leaks stop... eventually.
o You find humour in other's stupidity.
o You believe that 90% of your patients are a poor excuse for a protoform.
o Discussing dismemberment over a few rounds of high grade seems perfectly normal to you.
o Your idea of a good time is a full system crash at shift change.
o You believe in aerial spraying of tranquillisers.
o You disbelieve 90% of what you are told and 75% of what you see.
o You have your time off planned for a year in advance.
o You encourage an obnoxious patient to sign a self-discharge form so you don't have to deal with them any longer.
o You believe that the commanders should require a permit from the High Council to do anything more dangerous than scratch their afts.
o You believe that unspeakable evils will befall anyone who utters the phrase "Wow, it's really quiet isn't it?"
.:Curse of The Rubik's Cube:..:The Curse of the Rubix Cube:..:Curse of The Rubik's Cube:. in General Fiction More Like This
A strange feeling had hounded Ratchet throughout the day and now, as he sat in his office making a paper clip chain, he realised what it was. During the entire day, thus far at least, the entire eight-hour shift he'd worked up to this point, precisely slag all had happened.
The Decepticons hadn't attacked; Wheeljack hadn't been carted into medbay in a self-induced blazing inferno; Red Alert hadn't had a minor circuit seizure over a speck of dust; Sunstreaker hadn't scratched his paintjob and had a screaming blue fit about it and Prime, dear old Prime, hadn't seen fit to terrorise him with the results of yet another attack on the 'Cons base. At any other time Ratchet would have been in a really good mood about this turn of events, but no, something was wrong - very wrong.
That something was really quite simple. He was bored stiff, no actually, more than that – he was deathly bored. He linked the last paper clip in his paper clip chain to the first,
.:The Show Down:..:Tantrums and How to Deal With Them:..:The Show Down:. in General Fiction More Like This
It was that exact look, the look that reduced even the toughest mech to a quivering heap of fear. The look that spelled certain doom for the poor fool stupid enough to annoy Ratchet. First Aid backed away slowly, hands raised as if fending off an attack of some form, Wheeljack grimaced with a muttered, "Uh oh!" and Sunstreaker just stood there glaring right back at the CMO.
"What in the name of holy fraggin' Primus did you just say to me?!" Ratchet snarled, optics blazing neon with rage, "You slaggin' waste of parts! Get out. Get out - NOW! And don't dare darken these doors again! GO ON – OUT! GET THE FRAG OUT!"
Sunstreaker held his ground for all of thirty seconds before a red and white tornado swept him off his feet and hurled him forcibly out of medical into the corridor outside.
"No, I don't give a fraggin' damn if it's sunflower yellow instead of sunset yellow," the medic roared after him, "It can be bloody chartreuse or
.:Yellow Submarine Syndrome:..:Yellow Submarine Syndrome:..:Yellow Submarine Syndrome:. in General Fiction More Like This
Ratchet was really beginning to wish he hadn't dropped into the rec-room today, Blaster and Jazz were having 'Disco Day'. He hated disco music with a vengeance. Disco music was the height of bad taste, it sent him cold all over and set his audios ringing for days afterward but what was worse was the mental replay. Disco, you see, seemed to have an annoying habit of programming itself into his memory modules and replaying itself incessantly to the point where he was half ready to jack into the nearest high voltage power line to be rid of it. But even disco paled in comparison to his current problem.
He sat in his office brooding, his newly acquired Rock Anthems CD blaring at an unhealthy volume in the background to drown out that damn song. Oh yes, it'd been all well and good on the night, Yellow Submarine had seemed harmless enough but in the last 48 hours he'd had a series of visits from the other Autobots all suffering with the same complaint. He'
.:To Say Farewell:.Chief Medical Officer's Log – Supplimentary..:To Say Farewell:. in General Fiction More Like This
This is the end of my fourth week, the first month of my tenure as CMO. It hasn't been an easy transition; in fact I doubt I shall ever fully acclimatise to the title. It's not mine, not by right, it belongs to another. To my mentor. I can still hear him at times, still feel him watching over my shoulder, assessing my work and advising, pointing out my errors with his own gruff humour.
"Keep the ship in running order, kid, - an' for Primus sakes don't go out on any kamikaze calls."
That was the last order he gave me and I'll hold to it, I only wish he'd followed his own advice though. The Creator knows we needed him, his skills were unmatched and though he'd have been amongst the first to speak for my skills I know I'll never equal him. He could have done it; he could have saved Prime. As it was I was out on the field doing battle prep-work at the time and Perceptor had to cover for me. The realisation that I failed my duty in
.:Picking Up The Pieces:..icking Up The Pieces:..:Picking Up The Pieces:. in General Fiction More Like This
"Oh, sweet Primus…you cannot be serious! 'Jack, please – it's the fourth time this week alone and it's only goddamn well Wednesday!"
Or so went the conversation at 4am in Ratchet's quarters. If there was one thing he hated it was being unceremoniously kicked out of recharge in the wee small hours of the morning. If there were two things he hated it was being unceremoniously kicked out of recharge in the wee small hours of the morn by Wheeljack.
"It's another three hours before I'm on duty, 'Jack. Can't you call 'Aid in on this? It's his shift for frag's sake. Some of us need some downtime here," he complained into his comm.
There was a loud crash followed by an ominous silence on the other end of the comm-channel.
"Wheeljack?! Oh, come on, slaggit…not now…"
The dim blue illumination of his optics flared slightly in the darkness as he rolled reluctantly to a sitting position on his bunk. What he could really do with now was an eighteen hour 'charge sessi
.:Pizza:..erceptor's Guide to Pizza:..:Pizza:. in General Fiction More Like This
At a sudden laugh though, Raster looked up and wondered aloud, "What's a pizza?"
This time the fish took the proverbial bait, interjecting with an habitual 'Ahem' first, of course, prior to launching into a concise description of the aforementioned foodstuff:
"Pizza, or Picea should one prefer the historical term of Ancient Rome, is a combination of various human foodstuffs which is typically presented in the form of a heat-treated flat bread base, classically circular in shape, dressed with processed tomatoes, meat byproducts derived from various livestock such as members of the Bovine, Gallus and Suidae families - the inclusion of certain Chondrichthyes - or fish if you will - is also permitted; Cheese - a bacterially cultured, processed calcius secretion of the aforementioned bovine genus and other vegetable elements to the preference of the one responsible for preparation.
The presence of tomato is somewhat of a pre-requisite according t
.:Team Building:..:Team Building:. in Fan Fiction More Like This
Drip, drip, drip, drip.
Slag, its dark in here.
Blue optics scanned the area over, offering little or no illumination and yielding nothing other than rock faces slick with moisture and moss on every side.
Drip, drip, drip, drip.
An far too quiet for my liking, another voice replied in a muted white.
Seconded. Come on, the first returned edgily.
Drip, drip, drip, drip.
Watch your footing. Ledge is narrowing and I cant tell how deep that drop is.
Gotchya. Scrap ow, there was the faintest sound of metal scraping on rock as the second caught a wing on the rock face behind them, Whose idea was this anyway? faint blue-green, stressed.
Primes. You dont honestly think I WHOA! Back it up! Back it up! he scrabbled back, feeling the ledge giving out under his feet. A few pebbles bounced down into the darkness.
Chink, chink, chink .spl
.:Lemmings:..:Lemmings:..:Lemmings:. in General Fiction More Like This
"Fraggin' Windows!" the cry echoed through the Medbay with vitriol causing even the stoic First Aid to wince, it was swiftly followed by, "Damn you, Bill Gates!"
First Aid cast a knowing glance skyward and swiftly headed for the medic's rec room. That voice was entirely unmistakable, slightly gravelly, mid range and very very annoyed. It belonged to his commanding officer, Chief Medical Officer Ratchet, and it was more than evident that his newly acquired plaything – a supposed top of the range Terran computer system – had once again gone aft-end up. First Aid was genuinely glad he was off duty and more than slightly amused at his superior's misfortune. He'd been warned.
The medbay door slid open with a smooth metallic hiss admitting Wheeljack who had just happened to be passing at that very moment, the engineer headed for the centre of the disturbance, that black hole of reports, paperwork and medtech kits known only as Ratchet's Office.
The medic's voice ra
Drinking Game"Peter Piper pp p p…ah frag it!"Drinking Game in Fan Fiction More Like This
Prowl entered the common room just in time to see Ratchet knock back a shot of energon and gesture to Wheeljack with a gruff "Your turn."
Curious, the tactician walked over to where the two were sitting in a small circle that included Jazz, Bluestreak and the twins. "Excuse me, but what is going on here?" The black and white asked curiously.
"Drinkin' game." Sideswipe answered brightly.
"It's a good 'un too." Jazz added. "Gotta say a tongue twister. Y' mess it up and y' gotta take a drink. Last mech standin' wins, literally."
"Why?" Prowl queried, head tilted slightly to one side.
"We fragged the 'cons this afternoon, we're all off duty and nobody's in Repair." Ratchet said. "Now, you gonna join in or let us get back to our game?" When Prowl moved to turn away, the medic added a sly "Or are you worried we'll beat you?"
If there was one thing that Prowl could not resist, it was a challenge. He nodded and took a chair from one of the other tables and join
Charmed Life"I really hate math, you know," Spike grumbled sourly to the towering green mech sitting next to him. "I really appreciate the help, Hound. Thank you." They were sitting in the Autobot lounge, Spike's books spread out on an enormous table and Spike arranged comfortably next to them. Hound sat in a chair next to him peering closely at the tiny book containing Spike's math lesson.Charmed Life in General Fiction More Like This
"No problem, Spike. Glad I could help. Math is pretty universal, you know."
"Just be glad he ain't studyin' some dead language, like Latin." Their heads turned at the jovial voice and watched Jazz, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and Bluestreak enter the lounge.
"Or Earth History," Sideswipe added.
"I heard Bumblebee once got stuck helping you with Human Anatomy," came from Sunstreaker.
Bluestreak giggled at the thought as he crossed the room and got a ration of energon from the dispenser. "He told me it was f
A Foul DeedThe road up to the volcano had been improved significantly since they'd last made the trip. It still wasn't paved but the track was wider and straighter and the ruts they'd had to avoid on the way down from the mountain were gone, leaving a smooth, if dusty, drive back.A Foul Deed in General Fiction More Like This
Sparkplug was grateful for the improvements. He didn't think his back could take another bumpy ride in the old pickup truck, especially one as loaded down as his. He and his son, Spike, had spent the entire week in Portland buying all the necessities humans needed to live among giant robots. It had not been an easy task, either. The Ark had been pretty much unfit for humans. The Autobots had reassured the humans that they'd take care of some things, such as plumbing, but it had fallen upon Sparkplug and Spike to supply everything else. The pickup creaked and groaned its way up the mountain road under the weight of everything else.
Mad Ninja SkillzMad Ninja SkillzMad Ninja Skillz in Fan Fiction More Like This
"Where did you get your mad, ninja skillz?"
Prowl glanced down at the tiny human, his mouth stretched into a tight frown. "I'm afraid I don't understand. What are mad, ninja skillz?"
Sari hopped up onto the chair next to the motorcycle bot and stared up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Oh, you know, like Enter the Dragon and Bruce Lee and Hong Kong Fooey. Hai ya!" She struck a pose, hands flattened in a karate imitation. "You have throwing stars and you do all kinds of exciting things, even turn invisible. Wait a minute." She jumped down from the chair and hurried off into Autobots' base. Minutes later she was back with her laptop.
Prowl watched the girl silently as she opened the computer and started wildly punching keys. Finally she sat back apparently satisfied. "Here, watch."
A movie was playing and Prowl studied it silently. Surely the h
Zen and the Art of PrankingThe watering hole is a dangerous place even for the king of beasts. The image of the lion creeping down to the water hole held the two mechs attention as they watch the lion carefully dip its muzzle into the water. What seems to be a quiet place to get a drink can turn deadly in the blink of an eye Zen and the Art of Pranking in Fan Fiction More Like This
Hound tensed slightly as the camera pulled back to reveal a crocodile swimming stealthily towards the lion. He clicked the remote freezing the image on the tv screen. He looked up from where his head rested in Trailbreakers lap and said, The lion or the crocodile. He held up two energon goodies in his other hand.
Trailbreaker studied the screen thoughtfully. The quiet in the empty rec room stretching on much longer than Hound thought was necessary. He was about to call a foul when Trailbreaker glanced down at Hound. The crocodile.
Groundhog DayThe Ark's lounge was unusually quiet for a weekday evening. Only Jazz, Bluestreak, and four minibots occupied the large room. All were busy with their own thoughts or tasks and nobody was talking including Bluestreak who was furiously entering text into a datapad.Groundhog Day in General Fiction More Like This
Sideswipe stepped into the lounge and looked around at the occupants. His optics glowed brightly with a new idea, a revelation that he was positive no one else had ever had.
The few 'bots present studiously ignored him and his brother, Sunstreaker, who stood behind him wearing an expression of infinite patience or resignation. Even he wasn't sure which.
Sideswipes' optics fell on Jazz whose gently tapping foot and bobbing head suggested that he was otherwise occupied. Bluestreak quickly glanced up from his datapad and then looked down again hoping that Sideswipe hadn't noticed his attention. The minibots gathered around the tv pretended t
The Headless Seeker"It's Halloween, for crying out loud," Sideswipe teased Sunstreaker.The Headless Seeker in General Fiction More Like This
"I don't care if it's National Skid Plate Day, we have patrol tonight," Sunstreaker retorted, examining his rifle and stowing it away. He glared at his brother. "I am not coming to any party. And what the scrap are you wearing?"
Sideswipe adjusted his headpiece and grinned. "You like it?"
Sunstreaker shook his head. "It looks stupid. You look stupid."
"So what? It's Halloween."
"And that gives you permission to look like a...a...I don't know what you look like. Just stay away from me."
"Aw, Sunny, c'mon. Everybody is going to be there. Just drop in for a few minutes. It's still a couple of hours before we have to go. We have plenty of time."
The yellow Autobot eyed his brother suspiciously. "Why don't I trust you?"
"Me?" Sideswipe asked innocently. "I have nothing planned. It's just a party," he assured Sunstreaker.
"Fine, I'll come. But only for a few minutes and I'm not wearing a costume."
Thunderstruck"This isn't so bad, you know. Getting away from the Ark for awhile. Outside, in the fresh air. Even though it is hot and dusty. And the sun is really bright..." Bluestreak rambled, watching the readout on the scanner in his hand as he swung it back and forth over the ground.Thunderstruck in General Fiction More Like This
Sideswipe shrugged and grunted absently, not really listening to the silver Autobot.
"Even if we don't find anything out here," Bluestreak continued. "It is out in the middle of nowhere, isn't it? I always wondered what Sparkplug meant by that. I think I understand now." He looked up from the scanner, his optics taking in the barren cliffs looming over him. Cliffs pocked with hundreds of small caves. "Gah! Is this thing even working?" He shook the scanner and then rapped it smartly with his hand. "It's not registering a thing. Just a lot of empty space under our feet.
Dancing MachineDancing MachineDancing Machine in Fan Fiction More Like This
"Please tell me. Pleeeeease." Sari bounced on Bulkhead's chest.
"No. Don't ask me anymore." Bulkhead lay flat on his back, arms and legs spread eagled, trying not to move and dislodged the tiny human.
"No, no, no and stop with the big optics...eyes. I'm not telling and you can't make me."
Sari leaned forward bracing herself with her hands on Bulkhead's chin and peered into his optics with her patented "I'm going to get my way puppydog eyes." "C'mon, Bulkhead, you can tell me."
"What's going on here?" It was Optimus Prime to the rescue.
"I just asked Bulkhead a simple question and he won't answer me," Sari explained patiently.
"Because it's too embarrassing."
"What's too embarrassing?" Prowl entered the tv room curiosity clearly written on his face plate.
"Hey, Prowl," Sari greeted her second favorite bot. "I just was asking Bulky how he joined
Good Idea, Bad IdeaThe explosion threw Hound back and he tried to keep from crying out as his back and then his head hit the rocky hill. When Wheeljack slammed into him, crushing his front grill, he couldn't keep his vocalizer quiet. "Ow, Primus, ow!"Good Idea, Bad Idea in Fan Fiction More Like This
Wheeljack didn't respond and a quick glance revealed that the engineer had taken the brunt of the blast and was offline.
Hound rubbed his dented helmet and then painfully pushed the stocky mech off of him. With a sigh over his own damage, he inspected the damage on Wheeljack. It wasn't severe and Hound suspected the Lancia had hit his head on Hound's front grill explaining his lack of consciousness.
Another explosion shook the ground and gravel and dirt showered down on them from the cliff. Hound ducked instinctively and looked around for a hiding place.
A moment later, the scout was dragging the unconscious engineer towards a thicket of tall, thin trees and high bushes. He groaned and droppe
CSI: Ark - 1 of 9I bet you it was the big guy.CSI: Ark - 1 of 9 in Fan Fiction More Like This
Jazz threw a sly, amused look towards the other side of the couch in the Arks Rec Room. Hed been surprised pleasantly so- to find company for his late nights in front of the TV, watching CSI in any of the shows many variations. His company had grown to include a rolling roster, and at the moment covered Hound, Mirage, Tracks and of all people- Prowl. Jazz wasnt even sure quite what Prowl liked about the bottomless camp and technical make-believe of the show, but for all appearances the SIC was enjoying himself enough to wave a dismissive hand at Tracks comment. Tracks had an astonishing ability to pick the guilty party: he consistently failed. Jazz, whod been about to render the same verdict, knew that he could now swear to Big Guys innocence in front of Primus himself.
Nah, it was the femme. Hound stretched lazily.
Its always the femme with you. Mirage threw hi
CSI: Ark - EpilogueSo is it me, or did we hand the cons their afts harder than we usually do? Jazz leaned back on his chair, looking about the Main Briefing Room. He knew he was making an understatement: the Autobots had fallen on their enemies like the wrath of the proverbial gods.CSI: Ark - Epilogue in Fan Fiction More Like This
It would seem we were unusually fortunate, yes. Prowl was still going over the section reports.
You think? Ratchet came through the door and sat down with his own data slate, rolling his shoulders before leveling a look at the SIC. When was the last time I joined you in one of these post-battle little chats?
Prowl made a non-committal sound.
Aw, youre just sore cuz you lost, Prowl. Jazz crossed his arms behind his head.
I beg your pardon? The black-and-white Datsun gave him a surprised glance. By whose definition?
I dropped a T-Rex on him!, Jazz protested, letting his chair thump forward. What more do you wa
CSI: Ark - 6 of 9What are you so mad about, Sides?CSI: Ark - 6 of 9 in Fan Fiction More Like This
Sideswipe looked up at Jazz as he helpfully handed him another data slate for the Intelligence Officer to glance cursory over before tossing it to the hefty pile at his back. Our one tracker. Our one good shot at finding Mirage. Right under my optics. He shook his fists and voiced a deeply exasperated sound that merely made his senior smile. I can just about hear Sunny laughing at me!
He watched Jazz slouch back on his chair until he seemed about ready to topple over. Sides. Dude. Do you really believe this whole mess is still under Prowl and Sunnys control? Jazz tucked his arms behind his head and examined his team. Any of you?
They stared at him thoughtfully, all but Perceptor, whod received hurried and whispered instructions to get the remote out of Wheeljacks lab before the Senior Engineer blew himself and it up or before someone helped him do so. The s
CSI: Ark - 2 of 9Jazz paused at the door and glared at Prowl behind his visor as he finished sending out the coded radio call to assemble his troops. Leaning carefully against the wall of the Rec Room, the SIC simply nodded politely. Jazz turned to his over-eager escort. Stay out here, Bee.CSI: Ark - 2 of 9 in Fan Fiction More Like This
Stay. Jazz stepped into the Rec Room, speaking into his radio. Swoop?
Me Swoop and him Grimlock coming!, was the immediate reply. Even more reassuring was the distant, thunderous echo of the two Dinobots closing in at full gallop.
For the moment, Jazz turned to simply absorb the scene before him, and had to admit Prowl had gone to great pains to set it up. The TV was on, but the couch had been upended as, likely, Bluestreak tried to scramble away from his attacker. The gunners body laid on the floor in a pool of fluids, a blackened crater over his torso and another through his cranium. Jazz crouched down over it, feeling a well
For lonegamer7Subject: Wheeljack, Perceptor, Skyfire, JazzFor lonegamer7 in Fan Fiction More Like This
Line: Now, we may be idiots anyway, and thats fine with me, but Id rather be idiots with an explosion.
I havent lost my mind: its just backed up on a disk somewhere.
Exercise: One hour.
Skyfire? Jazz watched the scientists optics flicker as the mech fought to come back online. He crouched down next to him and cocked his head. Skyfire? You Ok, big guy?
The jet looked up at the ceiling, and then at the Porsche next to him, looking very dazed - and smiled. Jazz sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. It was the same huge smile he could all but guess Wheeljack was usually hiding behind his faceplate whenever the Arks Senior Engineer managed a particularly spectacular stunt even if he was the only victim. The fact that Skyfire was sprawled on the floor of Wheeljacks lab did not bode well for the Porsches peace of mind.
I think I
CSI: Ark - 5 of 9Prowl looked up from a data slate as the door to his office hissed open, and cocked a brow at his visitor. Why do you persist on sneaking into my office? Theres no more need for it.CSI: Ark - 5 of 9 in Fan Fiction More Like This
Sunstreaker shrugged. When else am I gonna get the chance? He threw the SIC a canny, wickedly amused look. And I keep hoping youll change your mind.
Absolutely not. Prowl went back to analyzing the report on his data slate. The crime has been committed. The murderer has all the information he needs to carry on with any further efforts, if he feels such are necessary. My involvement is done.
Youve got a lot of faith that you accounted for everything.
I have accounted for everything. Prowl leveled a quick look on the gold Lamborghini. Including your promise to remain a spectator, like myself.
Sunstreaker waved negligently. Yeah, yeah, I know. But arent you the least bit
CSI: Ark - 8 of 9More than sight or sound, a sense of displaced air told Ratchet he had a visitor. He straightened up and set his cards down -a lousy pair of twos with a bum Jack- and leaned very far back on his chair, making the springs squeak. It was a trick hed perfected and which allowed his head to peer into the Med Bay without leaving his office. He cocked a brow and a slow, wicked grin began to inch itself onto his face: his prey had at last come calling.CSI: Ark - 8 of 9 in Fan Fiction More Like This
He watched in silence as his CO moved into the Med Bay, steps quieter than usual, head turning this way and that as the big Mack truck scanned the medical berths. That Prime bore no visible weapons fazed Ratchet not a bit; for all intents and purposes Prime was strong enough to merely pick up any one of his soldiers and rend them apart, but the CMO imagined Prime would show some respect to him, if not his victim, and would try to be somewhat subtler.
If he got the chance.
PRIME! Unfortunately the big mec
CSI: Ark - 3 of 9Several hours later the Intelligence Officer lowered his head to the crook of his arms with a long groan and banged his forehead quietly against the desk. He half-suspected Prowl of rearranging the shifts so that everyone and their damned Creator had been up for one reason or another in the wee hours of the morning either that, or the killer had gone to an awful lot of trouble to make Jazzs life very long and boring. Without lifting his head he stared at a data slate by his side and blotted from it the names of Fireflight and Air Raid. After a moment he blotted out Blades as well, with a mental shrug. Primus knew there was about only one thing those three were capable of whenever their paths crossed, and if he was going on gut instinct Well, that was the whole bloody point.CSI: Ark - 3 of 9 in Fan Fiction More Like This
Grimlock stepped back into the office. Who you Jazz want see now?
Jazz craned his neck without lifting his head, envying the Dinobots stubborn determination. It sudden
CSI: Ark - 4 of 9The Intelligence Officer steepled his fingers before his face and stared at the mech currently sitting on the other side of his desk. Mentally, he was writing a How-to-Kill-Prowl list. It was highly detailed and had a little over a hundred items on it.CSI: Ark - 4 of 9 in Fan Fiction More Like This
Prime was sitting before him with his usual calm, unmoving confidence. The mech was a rock, an ever-present bulwark of stability, and Jazz damned silently to the Pit and back the faceplate his CO wore, hiding everything but the calm blue optics. He waited, watching as Prime looked about himself before returning his gaze to the Porsche. So you remembered you have an office. There was quiet amusement in Primes voice.
Jazz considered the many, many ways in which best behavior could be interpreted. Finally, without having moved so much as an inch, he drawled. You dont sleep much, Optimus, do ya?
Occupational hazard, the other mech replied, leaning back on his chair. Though I l
CSI: Ark - 7 of 9The Commander of the Autobots, one of the most formidable warriors alive, bearer of the Matrix, and of late apparently bereft of his senses after having shot one of his youngest warriors over a matter of TV scheduling, Optimus Prime ducked his head under a fine cleansing spray, sighing for the umpteenth time at the fact that the washing racks of the Ark were just well, small. Which he was not. He stared at one hand, then another, and chuckled very quietly. Had Jazz really expected to find anything in them? Did his officers think he miraculously expelled dirt and grit from his person, rather than taking a shower every day like a normal mech? He shook his head in wry amusement before stepping out onto the dryers.CSI: Ark - 7 of 9 in Fan Fiction More Like This
He was absentmindedly wondering if any stretch of an emergency condition would allow him to schedule Wheeljack to retrofit the wash racks when he picked up the steps of someone on the nearby hallway. Automatically, battle-honed circuitry collected and collated information:
Jazz vs Scary LadyThe opposing parties met on the field of battle, exchanged polite but somewhat frosty greetings, and lines were promptly drawn as the face off began.Jazz vs Scary Lady in Fan Fiction More Like This
Autobot Jazz, third in command, officer in charge of Special Operations and a decorated hero several times over, sat cross-legged on the floor, a large (by human standards) table between him and the enemy, his two allies seated to his left and right, while their opponent sat opposite from him at the other end. Carly, nervously chewing a thumbnail, looked about as white as a sheet. Spike meanwhile, alternated between uncomfortable fidgeting and throwing worried glances at his fiancée.
From the other end of the table their opponent, five foot, two inches of exquisitely dressed elderly matron crowned with snowy white hair swept up in a tight bun, glared back at them all in turn. Jazz repressed a slight shiver as the cold green eyes swept over him. Carlys anxiety was definitely not unfounded. He was over four times the womans
Jazz vs Scary Lady- InterludeStorm clouds had been brewing on the horizon all afternoon. After soaking up the day's heat and humidity, they then unleashed a deluge that had begun soon after sunset and hadn't stopped since. It was a cold, wet and all-around miserable night.Jazz vs Scary Lady- Interlude in Fan Fiction More Like This
As far as Ravage was concerned, it was perfect.
Slinking into the Ark while the sentries were blinded by the elements and their scanners confounded by sensor ghosts had been deliciously easy. The rescue party charging out to some organic's aid had helped too.
Now, the sleek cat crouched in a maintenance shaft, meticulously removing the mud and water from his coat. Opportunities like this were too few to risk being caught by something as ridiculous as tracking muddy footprints through the base's halls. Not only would Soundwave be very disappointed, his brothers would never let him hear the end of it.
"Let us see what shall be found tonight..." The cat mused to himself as he inspected himself then silently slipped from his hiding spot and d
TypicalIt was a typical morning for a typical April day on the edge of the Oregon desert.Typical in Fan Fiction More Like This
Or it might have been if not for the bright green fireball that lazily arched into the powder blue dome of the sky and silently burst into a thousand lime flamelets that rained down on the testing zone out the back of the volcano.
Said testing zone was more colloquially known as Wheeljacks Playpen.
Said inventor was obviously testing something, the nature of which, Skyfire mused as he banked and came around for a big, lazy turn, was a complete mystery. He circled the Playpen and cast his sensors down to the grey blotch that was Wheeljack. Miraculously the engineer hadnt even singed himself this time. Evidently, whatever it was had gone off without a hitch.
Skyfire sighed and arced away from the base. Primus forgive him but there were times he just could not stand his fellow scientists. Wheeljack was always far too eager to get into the actual testing stage
Grin and Bear itGrin and Bear itGrin and Bear it in General Fiction More Like This
"…And if you ever, EVER pull that stunt again, I will personally peel those wings off your back with a crowbar." Ratchet leaned in close to his victim. "You got that Powerglide?"
"Y,yes Ratchet." The newly repaired Minibot stammered.
"Good." The CMO grunted and gestured at the door. "You're on medical leave for the next 12 hours and light duties for the 36 after that. Now get out."
Ratchet shook his head and started wiping down the repair berth. A series of skirmishes had so far left half a dozen Autobots in need of repair and the exterior defenses in a shambles. As of this moment, only Prowl and Inferno were still being worked on, but Ratchet knew that there were bound to be more casualties soon. Primus didn't love him enough to give him anything short of daily chaos.
"You have such a way with words, Ratch," Inferno chuckled lightly from his berth. "Ever think of making a career out of it?"
"I have enough of a headache with the one I have n
CommuniqueCommuniquéCommunique in General Fiction More Like This
From: Prowl (autobotprowltran_net)
To: Jazz (dajazzmantran_net)
The Secretary of Defence is scheduled to meet us in the conference room at 1900 hours. Please have the reports ready for presentation.
From: Jazz (dajazzmantran_net)
To: Prowl (autobotprowltran_net)
Subject: Re Reminder
P.S- for the last time, do something with your addy before I do! It's soooooo boring!
From: Prowl (autobotprowltran_net)
To: Jazz (dajazzmantran_net)
Subject: Re Re Reminder
It is perfectly functional as it is. Leave it alone.
From: Jazz (dajazzmantran_net)
To: Prowl (autobotprowltran_net)
Subject: Re Re Re Reminder
That a threat?
From: Prowl (autobotprowltran_net)
To: Jazz (dajazzmantran_net)
Subject: Re Re Re Re Reminder
From: Jazz (dajazzmantran_net)
To: Prowl (autobotprowltran_net)
Subject: Re Re Re Re Re Reminder
From: Silverbolt (tlsilverbolttran_net)
To: Hotspot (tlhotspottran_net)
Subject: Fair Warning
Blades is here. If you want to
For want of a lab ratFor want of a lab-ratFor want of a lab rat in Fan Fiction More Like This
First Aid looked up in mild surprise as his mentor almost pounced on the stack of fresh supplies and tugged one box free from the pile. What is it boss? He queried absently, most of his attention devoted to eradicating a particularly obstinate stain on his favourite socket wrench. It looked like ground-in dried energon but it was far too tough for that.
A new tool from Cybertron. Was the answer. I ordered this frigging thing months ago.
Oh? Aid set down the rag and decided the stain had to be rust or something, directing the low-level surgical laser in his right pinkie at it in an attempt to abrade the thing out. What is it?
Cranial and thorasic neuro-stimulus monitor. Came the reply. In the background Aid could hear the sound of packing material meeting a swift, merciful death at his mentors hands. Absolutely top of the line, ultra-sensitive and de
0700 hours at the Ark0700 hours at the Ark, and Prowl was walking towards the Common room, a mug of energon in one hand and the day's schedule in the other. However, he stopped short at the doors and froze in open-mouthed astonishment. There in the center of the room, were Jazz and the twins doing the Cancan and cajoling other Autobots into joining them. The 2IC let out a world-weary groan, doorwings wilting. "It's too early for this." He muttered, executing a perfect paradeground about-face and retreating with some haste.0700 hours at the Ark in General Fiction More Like This
Rule One of surviving the Ark- If in doubt, don't ask.
1005 hours found Prowl lying on his back under a computer terminal, attempting to figure out why it wasn't functioning properly. As he worked, he couldn't shake the strange feeling that he was being watched. Nevertheless, he continued his task. Reaching up, he unscrewed another access panel and released a shower of rubber spiders.
"Gyaa!" Prowl yelped, batted at the spiders, automatically bolted upright…and smacked his hea
Communique 11Communique 11Communique 11 in General Fiction More Like This
From: Sideswipe (cheekydeviltran_net)
To: Sunstreaker (handsomedeviltran_net)
From: Sunstreaker (handsomedeviltran_net)
To: Sideswipe (cheekydeviltran_net)
Subject: Re ?
From: Sideswipe (cheekydeviltran_net)
To: Sunstreaker (handsomedeviltran_net)
Subject: Re Re ?
From: Sunstreaker (handsomedeviltran_net)
To: Sideswipe (cheekydeviltran_net)
Subject: Re Re Re ?
No. No way in the Pit, no way in hell no no no no and for the last frigging time N.O.
From: Sunstreaker (handsomedeviltran_net)
To: Sideswipe (cheekydeviltran_net)
Subject: Re Re Re ?
And stop trying the kicked turbo-pup thing. You look like an idiot.
From: Sideswipe (cheekydeviltran_net)
To: Sunstreaker (handsomedeviltran_net)
Subject: Re Re Re Re ?
But, but, but….it's such a good idea!
From: Sunstreaker (handsomedeviltran_net)
To: Sideswipe (cheekydeviltran_net)
Subject: Re Re Re Re Re ?
Do you really want me to come
Memoirs of the rubber chickenMemoirs of the rubber chickenMemoirs of the rubber chicken in General Fiction More Like This
The groan from somewhere behind him was just loud enough to prod Jazz over that final step from recharge to full wakefulness. Smothering a groan of his own the Special Ops propped himself up on his elbows, intending to get his equilibrium settled before he made another move. Unfortunately his left arm had a different idea as it gave way under him and Jazz rolled off the couch with a startled yelp and a crash.
He lay there on his back for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. Across the room there was a stumble and another crash as someone else tried to get up, this one followed by a few muttered curses as somebody else got tripped over.
Slowly, Jazz inched his way from prone to sitting, and then carefully up to a shaky standing position, leaning heavily on the armrest of the couch as he surveyed the wreckage of the lounge and the dozen odd mechs still passed out on couches, the floor, and a tabletop. "Now that," he grinned, "was a party!"
The GiftThe GiftThe Gift in Fan Fiction More Like This
Out of all the decisions he had had to make, this one ranked as one of the trickiest.
Brow furrowed in concentration and comfortably sprawled on the couch in his quarters, Prime stared up at the half-painted ceiling, idly tapping the end of a small paintbrush against the metal of his chest as he was distracted by the swirls of colour. This had been a personal project of his for several years now, covering over the ubiquitous orange metal with Cybertrons night sky as he remembered it from that night all those years ago, sitting on the roof of the dock control tower with Dion and Ariel, sharing a cube of high grade that Dion had gotten from somewhere.
The next day five strangers had turned up at the warehouse and warned him about the other side to the great warrior from the southern states. Not that he listened of course.
He frowned and idly rubbed the spot just left and below his spark chamber, then frowned again and tucked that hand under his head as soon as
TFA - Standing on the Rooftops"Standing on the Rooftops"TFA - Standing on the Rooftops in Fan Fiction More Like This
Optimus Prime was on the roof. Ratchet grumbled to himself as he made his way around the back of the building to where a pile of metal crates sat that would allow him to reach the base roof. Prowl was the only one with the jump jets necessary to make the leap from the ground up and the stairwell that led up from the inside was so narrow that only humans could get up through it.
Tinted a light blue with a dash of yellow orange, the horizon behind Detroit's sea of buildings was visible as the medibot pulled himself up onto roof edge. It was just minutes from sunrise. Prime stood near the ledge that faced the street, apparently staring out at the scenery. Bulkhead had been rather vague when he informed Ratchet that their crew leader wanted to speak with him. Still feeling a bit fuzzy after a full night out, the medic hoped this wouldn't take long. He and Prowl had tol
TFA - Sugar Rush"Sugar Rush"TFA - Sugar Rush in Fan Fiction More Like This
Ratchet sat back in his chair at the work station in the common room, a data pad in one hand and a can of oil in the other. His gaze followed Bumblebee as the yellow Autobot turned and posed in front of a giant mirror set up on the other side of the room. An oddly shaped black and red cloth cape hung off Bumblebee's back, Sari climbing over his shoulder struts to adjust it as needed.
"This has somethin' to do with that Halloween thing that kid has been going on about all week, doesn't it?" Ratchet muttered, his question directed to the still form of Prowl where the ninjabot crouched nearby on a work bench. Both of them had been watching the curious display before them for the last few minutes.
"I believe so, yes."
Ratchet frowned. "So the whole idea behind this Halloween thing is for all the human kids in the city to dress up like monsters and go door to door, getting free candy from adults?"
"Candy's got sugar in it, same as those drinks Sari gets from Burge
TF's: Not Again Wheeljack..."Of all the ill-fated, inconceivable, incorrigible, idiotic, indescribable--"TF's: Not Again Wheeljack... in Fan Fiction More Like This
Autobots of all shapes and sizes paused in their daily business as the ranting voice erupted from the medbay. Some of the newer ones look around in surprise. Most merely grinned knowingly at one another. Someone had obviously pushed the wrong button on a certain medic. Once one considered the fact that the twins were presently out on patrol, it really only left one mechanism who managed to wind Ratchet up on a regular basis.
"--insane, imbecilic, ideological, ignorant... GAH! Why today of all days, Wheeljack!"
Said scientist was standing sheepishly in the doorway, dripping fluids from one hand while three newly-detached digits sat sparking in the other. His headfins flashed a soft shade of pink in embarrassment as he scratched the side of his blackened face.
"I wasn't expecting it to self-destruct so suddenly. I even had Prowl double-check the formula for the internuclear filter system. It was perfectl
TF's: PremonitionsBluestreak leant back against the table with a wistful sigh, doorwings drawn back, wanting more than anything to curl up on his berth. Yes, that sounded nice. To curl up with a mug of warm energon, and maybe a good Disney movie, and be lazy for the rest of the evening. Maybe listen to the twins bickering for a while, too. That would get rid of the disconcerting swirl of fear that plagued his spark chamber.TF's: Premonitions in Scraps More Like This
Unfortunately, nothing had gone right for the sharpshooter that day. That morning the entire base had been woken - at what the twins rightly described as a Primus-forsaken hour and many other colourful words - by Teletraan's alarm klaxon to halt the Decepticons before they caused the imminent destruction of an relatively unknown coastal town. Someone had yet to figure out what they were doing there in the first place.
The battle had barely begun to warm up when there was an unexpected casualty. Bluestreak grimaced; the first Autobot casualty had sort of been his fault. He had
TF's: LacunaTalkative, clumsy Blue. That's me. Probably all I'll ever be is talkative and clumsy. At least if I stay like that then none of the other Autobots will ask if I'm alright. It's been almost three hundred years to the day since the attack on Autobot City. I should be alright; I should be the old cheerfully gunner that everyone loves. At least, that's what they all expect me to be. But I'm not that gunner any more. I don't want to smile all the time.TF's: Lacuna in Fan Fiction More Like This
I want to cry.
I miss him. I miss Prowl. I miss them all so very, very much. But I miss him most of all. He was a lot like my big brother. We had our own little family inside the big family of Ark Autobots. Just him, me and you. The three Datsuns. But now he's gone, and you're always being sent off on missions. And I'm always left behind. Again. Just like back on Cybertron.
I guess that's one of the things that I really liked about Prowl when we first met. He listened to me. Even when I babbled on about nothing, or when I had a nightmare or w
TF's: TwinsI watch him, all day, every dayTF's: Twins in Scraps More Like This
I do not want to lose him.
I feel him watching me, always watching
I do not need a guardian.
You jostle me gentley, concerned
Patrol is tedious, but I go- just to keep an eye on you.
My feet crunch gravel as I softly jolt you
Why are you so quiet?
I almost lost you- the enemy got in a lucky shot
Next time I will watch you more closely.
We seem to be in the med bay a fair bit
The medic was angry- I should have been watching the enemy.
I cannot see you, but I can hear you
This time I almost perished, but I kept you safe.
Quirky little devil, using his advantage
It was a fine shot- though, I am glad he missed you.
I help you set up another prank, on one of the older warriors
At least you are not trying to dump me in another paint vat.
He fell for it- the look on his face was priceless
However, we had best high-tail it out of here for now.
I do not understand, why are you avoiding me?
TF's: AbrasionsConversation died down as Ultra Magnus stoically paced through the door and surveyed the room, optics skimming over each small group of mechs to rest upon a solitary figure perusing a datapad, exhaustion almost etched into his calm face. The tri-coloured mech silently observed the smaller Autobot before exiting the room. It was no surprise to the other occupants when the solitary mech followed soon after, and there was more than one sympathetic look shot in his direction; the general assumption standing that, when one fragged off the mech in charge, one was in for verbal explosions. What none of them were privy to, however, was the radio conversation, which put into debate who exactly was on the receiving end. Of course, very few mechs were brave, or stupid, enough to even attempt listening in on Ultra Magnus's conversations.TF's: Abrasions in Fan Fiction More Like This
: [Explain to me, Perceptor, why one of my best spies is currently inoperable after apparently trying to infiltrate Kaon on your orders.] :
TF's: Liberty to Smile - 1It had been quiet for the most part. The Decepticons had retreated earlier than usual to lick their wounds. Those in the medbay were recharging peacefully, the night patrol had left hours ago, Red Alert had eventually conceded his traditional after-battle place before Teletraan's monitors to Blaster, and Jazz had eventually convinced his mate to stop hovering over his gunner counterpart.TF's: Liberty to Smile - 1 in Short Stories More Like This
With First Aid doing duty in the medbay, and the twin terrors knocked out for the night, Ratchet tried to kick-start his elusive relaxation pattern into first gear. However it just wouldnt come to him, and he knew why; someone was watching him. They had been for a while now. Ratchet had hoped they would get bored and wander off. He had no such luck.
Shaking his head in annoyance, the medic dumped his empty energon cube in the recycle unit before exiting the common room, intent on checking on his patients and ditching his follower before catching up on the ever-growing stack of files that needed s
Monty Python and the Twins -3"The Tale of Perceptor"Monty Python and the Twins -3 in Fan Fiction More Like This
Perceptor was working in his laboratory early the next morning. The researcher was examining the properties of a new rock conglomeration that Beachcomber found on his latest exploratory jaunt. Perceptors domain was off to one side of the main medbay, a smaller office that doubled as a storage room and was chock-full of bits and parts that any of the mechanics might find useful in their experiments. A large screen dominated one orange wall, containing a computer terminal that accessed the knowledge of Teletran-1. This is where Perceptor sat typing, when a commotion distracted him from his studies.
Wheeljack and Sideswipe burst into the room, startling the scientist and causing him to stand up from the terminal. However, the two newcomers took no notice of Perceptor as they proceeded to rummage through the storage boxes, obviously continuing a discussion that had been going on for some time.
They could be carried, Wheeljack explained, taking an e
TwinningDeep in the bowels of the Transformer base was a small, bare room with two bunks, one overhead light, no windows, and a barred, locking door. The room was used as a holding cell for troublemakers to the faction and today held its usual occupants, a set of twins. Rather than using the flat bunks, each twin settled himself on the floor with his back against it, rehearsing their well-used complaints.Twinning in Fan Fiction More Like This
"I tell ya," said the red twin to his brother, "I wish they'd shut up about it! We're nothing like them!"
"Yeah!" replied the other twin, his glowing optics scanning for a possible escape route. "Just because they have a set of twins, who also enjoy playing pranks, they think we're all alike!" He jumped to his feet, lunging at the barred door. "Let us out!" When no answer was forthcoming, he sulked back to his side of the tiny cell and sank down onto the bunk.
The red twin eyed his brother. "It gets so boring here…at least we try to liven things up! After all, we only hacked i
Monty Python and the Twins - 2Wheeljacks TaleMonty Python and the Twins - 2 in Fan Fiction More Like This
Wheeljack and Ratchet were re-soldering the connections Red Alert fried with his latest panic attack when Grimlock stomped into medbay. The Dinobot leader made his way single-mindedly towards the two mechanics, determination in every trudging step. He stopped a few paces from where Red Alert lay prone on the examination table and crossed his arms, tapping one finger in irritation on the opposite forearm. When Wheeljack and Ratchet looked up to acknowledge him, he started without preamble. Me, Grimlock, got problem. You, Wheeljack help me, Grimlock, and other Dinobots?
Wheeljack put down his soldering scalpel and left Red Alert to Ratchets tender care. He approached Grimlock, wiping his hands on a large oil-stained cloth. Sure, Grimlock, what can I do for ya?
Grimlock motioned for Wheeljack to follow him and tromped out of the medbay in the direction of the fr
Monty Python and the Twins - 1Ironhide's TaleMonty Python and the Twins - 1 in Fan Fiction More Like This
Ironhide was in the medbay when it started. A loud metallic clank</b> echoed through the hallway outside Ratchets domain, followed by another then another. The old warrior and medic exchanged a glance that left neither the wiser to the commotion, then they both succumbed to curiosity and went to peer out into the wide hallway. What the oil-drenched drain pan? Ironhide exclaimed.
Sideswipe trudged down the large orange corridor pushing a makeshift wheel-cart in front of him, grinning furiously. The cart was shoddily constructed out of rusted junk, barely able to wheel down the level hallway without an audio-twisting number of clicks, squeaks and jitters. Every few astroseconds he would beat an Autobot-sized cowbell and call out. As the red Lamborghini moved closer, Ironhide was able to make out what Sideswipe was chanting.
>CLANK< Bring out your dead!
Monty Python and the Twins - 5Prowls TaleMonty Python and the Twins - 5 in Fan Fiction More Like This
Prowl was not surprised to find himself in Optimus Primes office early the next morning. He was well aware of the Twins activities over the last several days and was relieved that Prime finally reached the end of even his immense patience for his troops. What did surprise Prowl was the embarrassed mien in those commanding blue optics, the nervous twitch behind that featureless facemask, as he read off the list of transgressions. Even for the Twins, the list was impressive, spanning everything from falsifying official documents, through harassment, and finally ending with aggravated assault (though that last one was a technicality as Wheeljack was famous for blowing himself up).
Optimus Prime paused in the recitation to regard his second-in-command. He dropped his gaze to the datapad listing the stunning array of violations, then laughed softly, wryly, I wasnt sure if Sideswipe
Monty Python and the Twins - 4Hounds TaleMonty Python and the Twins - 4 in Fan Fiction More Like This
Hound managed to duck at the last possible second as another of Wheeljacks mechanical swallows zipped by, talons firmly entwined in the fibrous husk of a coconut. Glancing down the hallway after the zooming menace to make sure it wasnt about to make a return trip, he shook his head ruefully and continued his trek to Primes office. Wheeljack apparently made the little robotic birds as part of a strange bet with Sideswipe, but had lost control of them. No one was quite sure exactly how many were still active, swooping around the Ark corridors with a coconut grasped in their tiny feet. It paid to keep a sharp lookout in the hallways.
Optimus Primes office was on the second floor Teletran-1s main bay. Hound ascended the stairs to the walkway outside the office before a commotion on the main floor caught his attention. Peering over the railing
TF exchange DEC: CrosstalkCrosstalkTF exchange DEC: Crosstalk in Fan Fiction More Like This
Get his shoulders, will ya?
The gravelly voice grated on Crosstalks audios, the first sound he was aware of since the Decepticon attack that collapsed a building on top of him, knocking him into stasis-lock.
Okay. One, two, heave!
Sensation of being moved raced along his internal systems, each sensor flickering back into life in rapid sequence. He was being propped up. Flares of pain spiked his spark from his extremities, threatening to disrupt its fragile stability, before fading into nothingness. Where am I? Finally responding to his urgent command sequences, his maroon optics warmed to life.
Crosstalk was in the back corner of a huge rectangular open bay. Both long walls of the spotlessly clean area were lined with medical-quality recharge berths. Every few berths contained an occupant. The back-and-silver transmissions manager n
What's The Child's Name?Its said and I can fully attest to this, now that trackers have a perverse level of tenacity. More so than most in other functions, save for espionage and medical, perhaps. Still, not many compare to the trackers. Essentially, theyre the Cybertronian equivalent to the earths bloodhounds. Their whole purpose in life is to pick up a scent trail, a clue, and trace it all the way to the source. Start to finish, start to finish. Never wavering, never being tempted off course, and never, ever giving in. And, really, that analogy doesnt put it in proper perspective to say just how tenacious a tracker can be. Its just the way theyre programmed.What's The Child's Name? in Fan Fiction More Like This
Hound, on the other hand Just the notion forces a tired, airy sigh from me. Not lost to him beneath the gentle whistle of wind that might otherwise hide such an expulsion from another mech.
Colour PalettesItd been a given for the last two years and some of their marooning, that one could cross paths with the special ops agent in the Level One commons in the mornings unless some other special operation had him tied elsewhere. After joining the command names for their ritual first light briefings, Jazz would remain behind for some extended period to sip at his rations and to greet the passing through. Itd become a rarely-had predictable Ark-side happening. One that was purely social, anyway. And although other activities wouldve seemed more vital in his use of this time spent fraternizing, it seemed none had ever made a point of it.Colour Palettes in Fan Fiction More Like This
The reality was and no one could deny that Jazzs smooth, yet effervescent presence was a comfortable tangible. Comfort was not an easy thing to be had coinciding with the circumstances of the Autobots. Thus, Jazzs predictable morning coffe
TF, U2: Snow Falls In AfricaDecember, 2004. I was working my first Christmas season over at The Curragh Pub and Restaurant. I had been in a rather comfortable writing zone all that year, having closed out the third chapter of Interim, and plunging deep into the epic Hide and Seek saga, which I will be releasing the beginnings of here shortly. But, as Christmas rolled around - and as I had been forced to listen to holiday music at the pub on a daily basis - I was attacked by a particularly voracious holiday plot bunny involving Transformers, U2, and the song 'Do They Know It's Christmas'. Specifically, the writing muse had eaten the lyric '...and there won't be snow in Africa this Christmastime...' and regurgitated it as this fandom crossover, in which the Autobots team up with my favorite Irish quartet for one day to bring a Christmas like no other to a few African villages...TF, U2: Snow Falls In Africa in Fan Fiction More Like This
Released first to The Padded Cell in 2004, then to Deviant Art a year later, I n
Riding With TracksThe woman arched her eyebrow at the young man standing before her, plucking the cigarette out of her mouth to address him better. "Raoul? What kind of name is that?"Riding With Tracks in Fan Fiction More Like This
The young man in question shuffled a bit with embarrassment at her inquiry. Taller than her by about four inches, with slightly wavy black hair that fell down to his shoulders, he wore a black leather jacket and boots of the same color and material, though the boots were somewhat scuffed and the jacket sported dull patches where grease had come in contact with the leather. He kept his hands stuffed in his pockets to hide the black grease that collected around his fingernails -- a consequence of frequent digging around in car engines -- but he wasn't sure why he was hiding this from her. It wasn't as if mechanics as a hobby was a criminal offense, after all.
"My parents were big Phantom of the Opera buffs," he said in explanation, feeling heat in his cheeks at he
Devil Went Down To PortlandAUTHOR'S NOTE: Happy Birthday, AutobotVierge!Devil Went Down To Portland in Fan Fiction More Like This
Jazz gave an ecstatic whoop as the final notes of "Free Bird" died away, hefting the guitar-shaped controller into the air as if displaying a battle trophy. The gesture earned a round of enthusiastic applause from his audience, both human and mech, and he grinned brightly. Sunshine, music, an appreciative audience, and an afternoon off -- that was a recipe for a perfect day right there in his book.
"Rock on, Jazz!" Sideswipe shouted, holding up his index and pinkie fingers in a gesture he'd picked up from the humans. "You are THE King of the Strings!"
"Naw, I can't take all th' credit," Jazz said dismissively. "Blaster, he's th' true Guitar Hero. I just learned from th' best."
"Well, Blaster ain't here," Sideswipe pointed out. "So you're the Great Jedi Fret-Master!"
"If you're done running your mouth, tomato-boy, it's my turn," Sunstreaker grumped, extending
The Dividing WallIMPORTANT NOTE: This is a sequel to "The Alone Place." It is highly recommended that you read that fic first!The Dividing Wall in Fan Fiction More Like This
"You sent for me, Prime?"
Rodimus Prime glanced up from his filework to see Arcee standing in the doorway of his office. He gave a tired smile and motioned for her to step inside. "Let's not be so formal, Arcee. We're friends, aren't we?"
She relaxed a touch and walked in. "Things have changed now, Roddy. You're the Prime now. I don't want to be disrespectful." She moved to take one of the chairs across from his desk.
"I know you never mean disrespect," he replied. "And to be honest, being addressed as Prime just seems... awkward. As if I were wearing an alt mode I was never programmed to use."
"You'll get used to it," Arcee assured him. "And the Matrix doesn't make mistakes. If Primus has faith in you, so do I."
His smiled became
TF and HP - Four's a CrowdPURGE & DOWSE, LTD./ST. MUNGO'S HOSPITAL FOR MAGICAL MALADIES AND INJURIESTF and HP - Four's a Crowd in Fan Fiction More Like This
It was a hot day in London. To be exact, it was a hot, muggy, sticky day in London that seemed to suck the very oxygen out of the air, and so far the eighth in an unbroken streak of hot and sticky days that seemed bound and determined to suffocate the city in a heavy blanket of its own fumes. A ceiling of pasty gray clouds pinned the heat down amidst the streets and buildings, at the same time teasing and taunting the citizenry with an unfulfilled promise of cooling rain. Everywhere one looked they could see Londoners collapsed on benches or at bus stops, mopping useless sweat from their faces or waving newspapers in a desperate attempt to circulate some air. The entire city crawled along at a snail's pace, unwilling or unable to move any faster in the humid heat.
Outside a decrepit department store whose faded sign declared "Purge and Dowse Ltd. -- Closed For Renovation," two teenage boys putter
ReminiscenceWhen you're six years old, you think childhood goes on forever. There are no days, weeks, or months to keep track of, no weekly paychecks or monthly bills or yearly tax statements to mark the passage of time as in the adult world. Sure, there's the quarterly report card – but that's mostly for the parents anyway. In the young mind, time marches by in a continuing spiral of weekend cartoons, insufferable school days, nightly battles to avoid baths and bedtimes. The only indicators of elapsing years are the school clothes that you outgrow the month they're purchased and the switching of teachers as you ascend up the grade ladder. Otherwise, you don't label the years by number. You only know a great stretch of blankness to be filled with activity and memories.Reminiscence in General Fiction More Like This
Time is not the only thing elastic about childhood. Adults believe – to their disadvantage – that the mind matures as you get older, that reality is a concrete matter and that once you learn that, you're ready for the "real" world.
The Alone Place"Hey Wheeljack!"The Alone Place in Fan Fiction More Like This
"Huh?" The Autobot Chief Engineer glanced up from his equations, his headfins flashing teal in surprise. Visitors were rare in his workshop -- understandably so, due to the high injury rate suffered by said visitors while he was working on a project...
"Oh, hey Arcee," he greeted, raising the hand holding his stylus and offering a wave. "Come in and make yourself comfortable while I finish this up."
"No problem," she replied, and she cleared a stack of datapads from a nearby chair and sat down while Wheeljack jotted down a few more notes. Finishing up with a gust of air through his vents, he set his work aside and turned his attention back to the femme.
"What's up?" he asked. "Message from Ratchet again?"
She smirked. "You haven't blown anything up in a week. Why would there be a message from him?"
Wheeljack chuckled, his headfins blinking along with his mirth. "Aw, the Merry Medic can grump all he wants, but he knows he likes my company in medbay." He planted both han
For Love of the Game Part IIQUIDDICH ARENAFor Love of the Game Part II in Fan Fiction More Like This
RIVER OF NO RETURN WILDERNESS AREA
IDAHO, UNITED STATES
"...and this is your announcer Lee Jordan, welcoming one and all to the first ever Cybertronian exhibition Quiddich match!" came Lee's magically amplified voice from the announcer's box, ringing through the stadium that now occupied a formerly deserted stretch of forest in the northwestern United States.
"And secondary announcer Spike Witwicky," Spike put in. "Looks like we have a healthy crowd here, Lee, with representatives from the Autobots, Decepticons, and wizards from every country in the world present!"
"Of course there are," grinned Lee. "This is history in the making, folks. Never before has a non-human race attempted a Quiddich match -- unless you count Geoffrey the Foolhardy's attempts at organizing a centaur Quiddich cup back in the eighteenth century, an event that's still the butt of jokes throughout the Quiddich league..."
As Lee waxed long about the spectacular failure of Geoffrey the Foolhardy's esc
Crossover - Meeting of MindsScreams. Curses. Wet slopping as an unwilling host struggled futilely against immersion. The wails and moans of those who had given up hope, and the indignant shouts of those who still foolishly clung to some thought of escape.Crossover - Meeting of Minds in Fan Fiction More Like This
Music. Sweet music.
Visser Three watched silently as, one by one, potential hosts were dragged forward from the pens to the waiting Yeerk pool. His stately, vaguely centaur-like Andalite body possessed no mouth by which he might smile, but all the same a cold satisfaction bled through him every time a human was forced down to his knees and his head thrust into the pool to accept a Controller. This new species was perfect for the Yeerk Empire -- plentiful, physically fit, highly adaptive... and unable to resist once a Yeerk Controller had infested their body. And the humans, so skeptical of anything new and fantastic, were blissfully unaware of the invasion taking place right before thei
No Child Left Behind"Jessie, get the kids out!"No Child Left Behind in Fan Fiction More Like This
Those were the last words I had heard from Spencer before the wall had crashed down on top of him, permanently silencing him before he could give orders to the rest of the convention staff. Just hearing that frantic order replay in my head stung my eyes and clogged my throat; even though Spencer and I had only been acquainted through our work on the convention, I had still respected him as a team leader and admired his passion for the project. I only hoped his death wouldn't be in vain.
"Jessie, I'm scared."
"I know, sweetie, I know. But we've got to keep moving, okay? Jason, Madison, over here, kids..."
"My arm hurts, Jessie."
"I'm sorry, Madison. We'll find some ice for it as soon as we're out."
"Those guys were really scary."
"Jessie, are we gonna die?"
"No, sweetie, we'll be fine. We just have to get out of the building."
Yes, I was less than truthful with him. But how is one supposed to answer a question like that? Especially w
For Love of the Game Part IPROWL'S OFFICEFor Love of the Game Part I in Fan Fiction More Like This
MOUNT ST. HILARY, OREGON, UNITED STATES
The Autobots had many friends among the humans of Earth, the closest being the Witwicky family of course. Spike, his father Sparkplug, and his newlywed wife Carly had come to the Autobots' aid too many times to count and even called the Ark their home. Chip Chase had lent his considerable expertise to their cause several times as well, and though he had obligations away from the Ark that didn't prevent him from visiting often. Raoul was less involved in their war against the Decepticons, but Tracks was close to the young man and even owed his life to him. Powerglide and the human woman Astoria had grown rather fond of each other over the course of time -- much to the amusement of the more mischievous of the 'Bots, who loved to tease and torment the A-10 regarding his human "girlfriend." And of course there were the friends and acquaintances they had made over the years in their various adventures and missions, some of
Refracted ImageRefracted ImageRefracted Image in Fan Fiction More Like This
"You did what?!"
Sideswipe didn't even flinch at the volume of Ratchet's voice, but then again, he was very used to it by now. Instead, he smiled innocently back at the Autobot CMO. "It's just like I told you, Ratch."
Ratchet glowered fiercely at the red Lamborghini. "Let me get this straight," he gritted out. "You decided that it would be funny to leave a squirrel - a Primus-forsaken squirrel - in Red Alert's recharge berth because you thought it would short his circuits?"
"Yeah. What about it?"
"Did you even stop for a nanoklik to even consider the possibility that the squirrel could chew through his circuits and fuel lines if left alone?"
Sideswipe's innocent expression faltered just a bit, but not for very long. "It was a good idea at the time..."
"A good idea? A good idea?! Do you even know what sort of damage you could have done?! If it had managed to find a way to his spark chamber, there'd be noth
For Lonegamer7The Lamborghini Extermination SquadFor Lonegamer7 in Fan Fiction More Like This
Somethings not right.
That was the first thing that popped out of Red Alerts mouth as he stared at the multitude of monitors that made up Teletraan-1. It was also exactly what he was thinking.
Somewhere nearby, he heard the quiet almost too quiet shift of servos and pistons as well as the shuffling sound of metal on metal. Whats not right?
Red Alert noticed a matte-black figure moving towards him from out of the corner of his optics, and when he looked he saw Shadowrunner approaching, a curious look on her face. She was in the Command Center to input a report on a successful raid she and her sister, Nightraid, had conducted three days ago a raid that had depleted the Decepticons stock of important and difficult-to-obtain supplies from Cybertron, and augmented their own.
In response to her question, though, Red Alert gestured to the monitors in front of him. I am getting
For KenyastarflightSome Things Never ChangeFor Kenyastarflight in Fan Fiction More Like This
Warm sun, white sand, and clear waters: all the hallmarks of a beautiful, tropical island and this particular one, so he had been told, was one of the most beautiful. Sure, it might not have been as isolated as, say, Matinloc Island, but hey, he wasnt about to complain. At least he didnt have to swim underwater to get to the beach (1), and besides, this island had a pretty thumping party scene at night.
It was the party scene and the presence of people that Autobot saboteur Jazz could appreciate the most about Boracay Island (2). He come across information on it one day while randomly surfing the Web for vacation spots he might like to go to, but whereas the others were too isolated or too popular, Boracay met the requirements of being isolated enough that he wouldnt have to worry about getting in trouble with the Cons, but still populated enough that he wouldnt feel too lonely.
And he did not regret coming here at al
Running from Shadows - 1Running from Shadows - Part IRunning from Shadows - 1 in Fan Fiction More Like This
Two weeks. Sunstreaker had been counting, and it had been two slagging weeks. That was far, far too long for them to be away on a mission, not when they were usually back within a week hell, within a day, as was often the case.
But two weeks? That was just ridiculous. Something had to have gone wrong, and Primus damn him if he didnt do anything about it.
He strode into the Command Center then, all but steaming around his head vents. He walked over to where Blaster was plugged into Teletraan-One, and grasped the red Autobots shoulder in a grip that caused the Communication Officer to actually squawk and turn to look up at him. Sunstreaker? What the-
Have you heard anything from them? Sunstreakers tone was deceptively calm and mild, but there was no mistaking the near-white glow of his optics. Sunstreaker was worried, and when he was worried, he got mad. Unfortu
First Time, Last TimeFirst Time, Last TimeFirst Time, Last Time in Fan Fiction More Like This
Did something come up?
Nightraid stopped dead in her tracks upon hearing Shadowrunners voice, and she retreated back into the shadows cast by the boulders around the Arks entrance, her optics going up to the lookout point nearby. She knew that her older sister was on watch tonight, and she had planned to go up there and keep her company for a while, but apparently, someone else had already come up to her.
Naw, nothin really. Just Red askin where I was headed off to. There was only one mech in the Ark Pit, even on Cybertron, Nightraid was sure who spoke with that particular drawl. Curious now, she slid deeper into the shadows, trying to get as close to the two Autobots now sitting next to each other on the ledge that overlooked the western quadrant.
Shadowrunner sighed. I know that his paranoia has its uses, but really, dont you think he might be overdoing it?
Remnants of a Lost Age - 5Chapter Five: Incomplete AnswersRemnants of a Lost Age - 5 in Fan Fiction More Like This
A stream of words she did not understand flowed from the womans mouth, words that were being uttered in a different language entirely. And though she liked to think that she had a pretty good grasp of other languages besides English (she was getting pretty good at Spanish and was working on her French), Carly still had to work her way towards understanding Arabic.
At the moment though, she was sort of glad that she couldnt understand what Dr. Naila Saab was saying in her sleep. Given how the archaeologist was tossing and turning, she had to be dreaming about something bad. A part of Carly was curious, but another part of her didnt really want to find out.
The door behind her hissed open and closed, and when she looked over her shoulder she saw Spike coming towards her. She smiled at her husband, who smiled back at her reassuringly. Hey there.
Hey there. Spike quietly pulled up another chair from another p
Remnants of a Lost Age - 8Chapter Eight: AlliancesRemnants of a Lost Age - 8 in Fan Fiction More Like This
He did not know what he had been expecting. He had heard from Jazz about how this Maraxan named Meriat fought, but what he saw, what they all saw, through Teletraan-1s screens was not what he had anticipated. First of all, it had all the appearance of being completely, utterly illogical. It was impossible for any entity, as far as he knew, to manipulate air the way the trespasser had, or, for that matter, for someone to manipulate metal the way Meriat had.
But when he took into consideration the fact that they were dealing with a race that none of their kind had dealt with in millions of years, his logic processors allowed him room for the chance that such things were indeed possible. It had simply been so long since the Cybertronians had ever come in contact with a species that possessed such unusual talents.
It was not that Prowl was unaware of the existence of psionically-capable species: it was simply that he had never encountered a memb
Remnants of a Lost Age - 7Chapter Seven: Of PromisesRemnants of a Lost Age - 7 in Fan Fiction More Like This
And are you certain of what you offer me?
Of course: amongst my people, when we speak vocally, it is equivalent to making a promise an unbreakable one. If I say to you that I can give you what I have to offer, then I am certain that I am able to do so.
You have been on Earth long enough. How can I be certain that youre not lying?
You cannot. It is up to you to decide whether or not you consider the risks you take in trusting me worth the rewards that it could bring. And besides, it was not humans who taught us how to lie: it was your kind that did.
Interesting And what is it that you get out of all of this?
Your help in acquiring certain items that are of supreme importance to my people, as well as aid in eliminating undesirable elements from our plans. If our relationship continues to hold, then perhaps we can discuss the other fringe benefits.
Remnants of a Lost Age - 4Chapter Four: Whispers of the PastRemnants of a Lost Age - 4 in Fan Fiction More Like This
Please, I beg you, have mercy on them!
Tell me: why should I give them mercy? You do not know what they are capable of. You do not know what they can do. I do not know what promises they made to you, but understand this: if they have come here, then they mean nothing but harm to you and your race. They carry weapons of war; they are nothing more than destroyers!
They carry weapons because they are at war themselves! They are protectors! They have defended this planet from the destruction brought on by others like them.
There now, you see?
These are different! They mean no harm to humans!
We shall see about that.
-+- And thats what I found out in my files.-+-
Jazz stared, first at Skids, then at Naila. -+-Lemme get this straight: youre sayin that Naila over there isnt really Naila, but that one of thos
Running from Shadows - 2Running from Shadows - Part IIRunning from Shadows - 2 in Fan Fiction More Like This
Prowl moved quickly and steadily through the hallways, ignoring any passing Autobots, and instead focusing on making a beeline towards the source of the high-pitched, anger-filled wail that had only moments before flooded his audios over his private comm. link and caused him to flinch.
At last, he reached the quarters he had meant to arrive at, and as soon as he opened the door he was greeted by a scene that he knew would trouble him for a while to come.
Nightraid was standing in the middle of the quarters she shared with Shadowrunner or what was left of it, given how several items and consoles were now either lying on the floor or smashed to pieces. Nightraid herself practically vibrated with the strength of her emotions, and her optics were a brilliant light blue, almost white: a clear indication of the anger that was coursing through her.
Raid? he asked softly, tentatively stepping into the room, making sure to avoid wha