Vernoverse

[Hursticon]

Absolutely delightful Verno, especially the previous post; I like where you're intending to start things and your characterisation is remaining to be superb.
I know you're probably getting sick of hearing it from me but, more more!

[Verno]

Cheers as always Hursty. Just for you, here's another draft of a previous scene. Since writing it this arvo, I've changed the direction of it again, but it's coming along. Enjoy!

-----

Csirac came back online and his sensors screamed. He groaned as he tried to move.

"Ah excellent, you're awake", said a wraspy voice.

Csirac tried to focus his optics but everything was still a blur. Details started to whir back into his processors.

"Peh.. Prehh..." he slurred.

"Give it a moment. You're vocal subroutines are still coming back online", said the voice, whose form was becoming clearer, then suddenly came into sharp focus. Spindly, creepy, most definitely...

"... Predacon..." Csirac finally managed to get out.

"Of sorts", replied the slender, purple Predacon, before giving a metal-chilling cackle. "I am Taranachus."

"The lab... How did you know..." said Csirac, pulling himself up, as the details of the raid came back to him.

"Oh, we know a lot of things", replied Taranachus, "but that should be of no concern to you now. What you should be asking is..?" he posed, playfully. Csirac knew where Taranachus was going with this. "What do you want with me", he said. Taranachus cackled, gleefully. "Yes! A much more interesting question! One with an easy answer, really..."

Csirac was now sitting upright and again knew exactly where Taranachus was leading him. "A TransWarp cell." Taranachus cackled once again. "Yes." Taranachus turned from Csirac and returned to a control panel.

"And supposing I refuse?" Csirac asked futilely.

Taranachus gave a blunt answer. "Then I'll extinguish your Spark and extract the information I require from your data-tracks."

"We have a problem then", said Csirac. "Unless you hadn't noticed, we haven't got one to work yet."

"Yes, we watched the last launch with great interest. The finale was spectacular!" Taranachus' comment cut Csirac in what was an already open wound. "I didn't say we needed the cell to work though, did I?" he asked with a small laugh. "The explosive potential of such a device was reason enough to bring you in."

Only now did Csirac begin to worry. The Predacons had proven themselves more than proficient in the use of explosives before now. What could they possibly want to destroy with such an explosion?

Taranachus moved from the panel towards to doorway. "You have two options, the latter of which is death. I think we both know which you'll choose." The door closed solidly behind him as he left, leaving Csirac alone with his thoughts, in something of a makeshift lab.

[Verno]

The rest of their conversation was cut short by the sound of the chamber's door unlocking. Two heavy-set goons entered, the same ones that had dumped Silverbolt in earlier. They said nothing as they stood either side of the doorway. Csirac wasn't sure if he and Silverbolt were meant to exit, but he soon had his answer, as the enormous figure of Razorclaw filled the doorway.

Csirac had only ever heard stories of the Predacon leader, but now standing before him, they seemed more like nightmares.

Silverbolt tried to stand but was still recovering from his violent capture. "Don't do it on my account", Razorclaw said to Silverbolt. "You've earnt a rest". Silverbolt's hatred towards Razorclaw was clear, but he said nothing.

"We are in the presence of our own future, Silverbolt", Razorclaw continued, but now staring squarely at Csirac. "We're no longer the pinnacle of technological wizardry. Never could we have imagined that our fate would look quite like this", Razorclaw finished, clearly in reference to Csirac's Maximal protomatter body.

"I take it you're not a fan?" asked Csirac, attempting to sound as in control as possible, but failing.

"On the contrary", came the reply. "Why else would I have tapped the rich supply of protomatter on Earth?"

"Tapped?!" Silverbolt yelled. "You blew the planet up! Killed billions of humans in the process!"

"It was a brutal planet. Always had been and was until its end", Razorclaw said simply. "And the humans? Nothing more than savages. I watched them scramble over each other, trying to get aboard evacuation ships, hoping to escape - only to be shot down by our fighters waiting in orbit".

Csirac was shocked by the casual tone of Razorclaw's words.

"Our intelligence says that you were stationed there", Razorclaw continued to Csirac. "Given your talents, and appearence, it's easy to summise that you had a hand in the creation of the protomatter technology".

"Right so far", said Csirac, uneasy under the extreme focus. "What else does it say?"

"You're a... Pacifist?" Sniggers came from the bulky Predacons at the door. Csirac was surprised they knew what it meant. "Excuse my mentioning it but we have a different name for bots like you: Target Practice". The sniggering at the door continued.

"Is that what I'm here for?" Csirac asked, gaining confidence as he became more incensed.

"No. I have a greater task for you". Csirac now knew what prey felt like. Razorclaw's stare was hypnotizing.

"And what about me?" said Silverbolt. Csirac had almost forgotten he was in the room.

"You're here just so I can see the look of terror on your face". Razorclaw gave no clarification as to what that meant as he turned to face his troops at the door. "Bring them", he said, then exited the chamber. Csirac went without a fuss. Silverbolt, however, was scuffed and paraded through the corridors of Predacon onlookers, all glaring at the captured enemy. Whatever and wherever this facility was, it was big.

"Tell me", said Razorclaw, whom Csirac found himself walking next to, "Did you ever attempt to construct a protomatter combiner?"

Answering would usually have been considered an act of treason, but given Csirac's current situation, he felt he had little choice but to answer. "No", Csirac said truthfully. "The priority was production once we'd perfected the technology".

"Pity. It will make your task all the more difficult". Csirac made to enquire about just what this task was, but Razorclaw continued. "I thought of entrusting it to one of our engineers, but to have it built by someone who knows the full capabilities of the technology, then all the better for us".

"Have what built?" asked Silverbolt before Csirac had the chance to, who was still fending off evil looks as they continued through the seeming labarynth of corridors.

"We are brothers, Silverbolt", he replied, puzzling him. "Brothers in loss. You took away mine, I took away yours".

Word of the defeat of the four other original Predacons had reached even those working in the TransWarp lab. It was met with great cheer. The death of the other Aerialbots however, that was news to Csirac - terrible news. He turned and looked at Silverbolt, who had a look of pain and anger on his face.

"I wish I was there to see them burn! A big Predacon roast!" spat Silverbolt, who earnt a solid punch to the torso for his efforts, but his head came back up with a smile on it. "We celebrated that night! Four Preds down, one to go!"

"And yet here I am, alive and well - and also the bearer of bad news", Razorclaw said as he turned to face the Autobot. They had arrived at a heavy set of doors, guarded by two enormous Predacons, so big they put the two Predacons scuffing Silverbolt to shame. Whatever was behind this door was incredibly important.

"Perhaps instead of celebrating you should have been more thorough in your work", said Razorclaw, coldly.

"What do you mean?" asked Silverbolt, who'd momentarily stopped wrestling in the grip of his handlers.

Razorclaw smiled. Csirac really wished he hadn't. "Open it", he commanded to the enormous guards.

The doors swung back to reveal a vast chasm of what seemed endless blackness. But as they entered and Csirac's optics attuned to the light, there began to emerge a blue hue to the light. They approached two vast cylinders from which the blue light was emanating. Their contents couldn't yet be made out clearly.

"While Rampage and Tantrum are lost to me..." said Razorclaw, as Csirac approached the cylinders, whose contents were now clear to everyone.

"No... NOOOO!!!" screamed Silverbolt.

"The Sparks of Divebomb and Headstrong pulse on!" boomed Razorclaw.

There, suspended in the blue liquid, we're the damaged forms of Razorclaw's two surviving Predacon brothers, hooked up to all manner of tubing and life support equipment.

"You want a new body", said Csirac, stunned by the sight.

"I want to fight beside my brothers again! I want... PREDAKING!" roared Razorclaw.

[1orion2many]

Very Well written Verno, It took me a little while to get through it all but thoroughly enjoyable

[Verno]

Thanks for your time mate! They're all drafts and ideas that needed fleshing out. The stuff that I'm writing at present is closer to final drafts of the individual scenes. I'm pretty happy with the last one, it only needs a few little tweaks.

[Hursticon]

Oh man Verno,

That chapter with Csirac & Silverbolt in the custody of the Predacons - pure awesomesauce dude!
The exposition, the utter frustration and helplessness all comes across superbly; I love how Razor Claw comes off wild as hell yet tempered and focussed... And poor old Csirac thought Taranachus was bad!

I also really liked Taranchus' rebuke: "Of sorts", coupled with his eye for differing applications of Technology - He's every bit the 'mad' scientist he was/is.
(Never really bought Scorponok as the engineer/scientist, he was a little bit lacking in... dexterity? )

Once again man, you've got me sold!

[Verno]

Sorry to post stuff out of order, but here is this arvos offering. Enjoy.

The door of the chamber burst open and several Predacons poured in.

"Maximal! Come here!" yelled one of them.

Csirac was weary as he approached. "What's going on?" Two Predacons dumped a smoking wreck onto the floor before him.

"There's a war on! Help him!" the Predacon yelled again.

Csirac examined the body but looked at the Predacons and shook his head. "The damage is too extensive. There's nothing I can do."

"You better think of something!" came the reply, accompanied with a blaster being pointed at Csirac's chest. Silverbolt limped closer but was greeted with blasters too.

Csirac tried to explain. "His body can't support his Spark. It's beginning to rejoin the Matrx."

"Then move it!" yelled the Predacon, not taking no as an answer.

"Where?" asked Csirac.

"Those!" suggested one of the other Predacons, pointing to the three Protomatter pods against the wall.

"No", said Csirac quickly.

"Do it! Or I'll rip your Spark out and put his in!" threatened the Predacon, continuing to yell.

"Skeeto, they 're for Razorclaw, I heard him say it himself", said another Predacon. Csirac recognized him, he was at the first body display.

"What about that one?" came the suggestion, this time pointing to the pod Csirac had been working on.

Csirac began to panic. "It's... Corrupt", he lied. "I used it for parts on the first body." He hoped his ruse would be believed.

"Use that then! Where is it?" questioned Skeeto, not yelling for the moment.

"Its in storage. I'll get it!" said the Predacon from the display. He grabbed a cohort and ran from the room to retrieve it.

"Hurry!" Skeeto yelled after them.

"That won't work", said Csirac. "It needs three Sparks to function, so unless you're volunteering to get in with him..?"

Skeeto cocked his gun. "I'm not gonna tell you again, Maximal!"

"It won't-" Csirac began, but a blast narrowly missed his feet. "...Ok", said Csirac, who knew the next shot wouldn't miss.

The Predacons returned carrying the monstrous form and lay it beside the lifeless form of Magmatron. "Careful now, Maximal", sneered Skeeto in Csirac's ear as he made to open the chest cavity.

With all the delicacy he could, not helped by his shaking hands, Csirac transferred the Spark from the tattered body to the new Protomatter form. He closed the lasercore and stepped back.

Suddenly the form began to convulse wildly. Limbs flew in every direction as the Spark tried to integrate into a form that would probably tear it in three.

"What's happening? What's happening?!" demanded Skeeto.

"I don't know!" Csirac replied, he'd never seen anything like this before.

A terrifying, tormented scream came out eminated from the body's mouth. Then silence.

"Magmatron? Magmatron?!" Skeeto lent over the deathly still body but received no reply.

"I'm sorry", said Csirac.

"Sorry? Not as sorry as you will be." Skeeto was enraged at having just witnessed his commander die in front of him. He encroached suddenly on Csirac.

Silverbolt, still bearing the scars of his last fight, jumped in to protect the Maximal. "He did all he could!"

Skeeto smashed him aside. "Shut it!" he roared. He was not in a good frame of mind.

"Skeeto, I'm picking up heavy chatter", reported one of the Predacons.

Skeeto, still staring at Csirac, took a moment before answering. "Let's hear it."

The Predacon on the comms turned it up. A voice broke through the static. "...sshhhzzlaw is missing. His squad is non-responsive..."

A different voice came through. "Scouts are reporting the Autobots have launched a ship into orbit. Cinder has scrambled fighters to intercept..."

Another new voice broke in. "Where's Magmatron. I ain't taking order from that bast-..."

The communication was cut as a clear signal broke through.

"This is General Rampant. Razorclaw is dead..."

"What?!" gasped one of the Preds.

"Shut up!" yelled Skeeto.

"I am assuming command. Predacon forces are to regroup at the incoming coordinates before we restart the push. General Cinder has ordered a strike on the Autobot ship. I repeat, Razorclaw is dead. I have taken command of the Predacon forces..."

"Shut it off", barked Skeeto over the top of the transmission.

"We gotta get back out there", said a Predacon.

"Shut up!" was the reply from Skeeto, his processors racing.

"Magmatron is dead, Skeeto", another continued.

The events were unfolding too quickly for Skeeto to keep track of. "I said Shut up! Shut AAARRRRRGGGHHHH!!"

*Booom!*

In his frustration, Skeeto took aim at the fourth Protomatter pod and blew it to pieces.

"Noooo!" screamed Csirac.

Skeeto turned back to Csirac. "This is your fault! You killed him!"

"Get away from him!" yelled Silverbolt who was having trouble getting back up.

"You killed him, but he ain't gonna die alone down here!"

*Booom*

Csirac crumbled to the floor, half his torso missing.

"Get out of here! Go!" he yelled to the Predacons, before turning back to the carnage. "Enjoy watching another pal die, Bolt!" he yelled, before running from the room.

"You fracking piece of slag!" Silverbolt yelled after him."Csirac!" Silverbolt crawled to him and turned him over.

"A ship... They've launched a ship"' Csirac muttered, cradling his wound.

"Don't move. I'll get you patched up", said Silverbolt, looking around for anything that could help.

"Don't... worry", said Csirac, with a grimace.

"Csirac... The pod. Venus..." said Silverbolt, looking at the debris.

"It's alright. I think it's time we got you into your new body."