BattleStripe's story

Battlestripe

Farrian: Predacon Outpost IA-12

    Sensors functional.
    Systems power level, 99.9909%
    Vision, enabled.

    The world springs to vibrant color as your optics activate.   The room around you steel gray and cold. Filled with wires and computers.
Probes were still attached to your frame, and you could feel their scans probing your circuitry.
    -So be it.-
    Nothing in you cared. Nothing rebelled. Nothing tried to force it's way to freedom.
    You felt no worry, no fear.
    You felt nothing.
    And you still didn't care.

Audio activated.

    ".... and the prototype's energy storage is well protected giving it an increased endurance under severe conditions."
    "But with that kind of firepower, is the Council sure that this is such a bright idea?"
    "He's totally loyal, just a drone, really..."
    "But what if he..."
    "There is no 'what if' soon we will imbue him with the Predacon master program. He will accept it, for it is what he was built to do. It will
keep him loyal and obedient to the council's command."
    "I still don't like it, that Transmetal armoring he's 'gifted' with was only discovered weeks ago!"
    "But it has no effect on the robot's mental states. It's been..."
    "It nothing. Power down."

    Audio off.
    Optics off
    Sensors off.
    Systems.... off

And still you didn't care.

    You later find yourself standing on a large plain. The wind blows softly through the tall grasses. The sky was dark, overcast and cloudy.
    All systems were at full capacity, and you knew your purpose. It was simple. Destroy or be destroyed.
    The ground bursts open behind you, and three thick legged spider walkers jumped up from large clouds of debris.
    You spin with lightning reflexes as their guns ripped up the ground around you. Their shells merely bounced harmlessly from your skin as you
turned for minimum impact. You're own weapon came to hand and you blasted off a few rounds into the thick armor of the drones. One
shatters into a ball of flame, another slipped and staggered as you laced into the area between it's leg's armor plates.
    You're scanners registered two more blips. Flyers. You drop as the hiss of missiles pass over head. One of the shots snaps into the
staggering spider droid, sending it flying into burning shrapnel.
    You roll over and transform into your vehicular mode, wheels spinning wildly, and your nose cutting a swath through the tall weeds.
    The third spider droid's guns rip into the grasses sending seeds flying in a storm of chaos.
    It only helped to conceal you as you tore a path straight toward him.
    At the last second you transformed again, this time into your beast mode. Your powerful claws pound the robot into the grass and rip large
scars through it's armor as you use it to spring into the air.
    Transforming again, you grab hold of one of the flyers and raise a heavily taloned forearm into it's control unit. Sparks fly and the ship begins
to stagger. You give it a sharp tug and jump free as it slams into the spider droid.
    You hit the ground and toll as a missile rips the ground around you. This one hurt, but you roll and fire with your cannon, blasting the final
adversary into scrap.
    You stand up as the ship smashes to the ground, the flaming ruins of your enemies around you.
    And still you felt nothing.

    "Excellent, now it is time to install the spark and coding in him."
    "You're sure that this is..."
    "Pitt! You've seen the tests and the results. This is what the Council wanted! A drone super warrior that would do as they say! The blank
spark is ready, all we need is to install it, and we will have our warrior!"
    "Shouldn't the predacon coding go in first?"
    "No, the spark must be in place before the predacon shell program can be put in place. Don't worry it will only take minutes to put it in
place. Nothing will disturb our work."
    "Then let's get on with it."
    "Power off"

???...

A pulse surges through your system, and you find yourself screaming in confusion. You are hurled through space and time. You
roar as you leap across the void, across the surface of a pulsing planet, it's being made up of a conglomeration of throbbing
molecules, blue and purple spheres of energy that are tightly bound together in the darkness. From them, a million voices cry to you
pulling you in different directions. You rear back and roar with defiance, but the scream that comes out is merely an echo of those
from below.

Silence.

--Predacon shell program aborted.--

--Awaiting new programming.--

--Maximal Freewill chip installed.--

--Programming accepted.--

--Lifeforce activated, Spark… online—

    You bolt upright, several metallic bonds that held you shatter and clatter to the floor of the room. You look around to find yourself strapped
down in a large, basin like work area. Worker arms twitch and move aside as you look around, and various lights and systems on the
surrounding computers begin to shut down.
    You reach down to rip the remaining bonds free, when you register another presence in the room. You twist violently, shattering the fe weak
bonds, and find yourself staring down the barrel of a very large gun.
    Attached to the other end of the very large gun, is a very small girl. Large green eyes stared at you in defiance from the Cybertronian that
held you at gunpoint. She was cute, brown stripes crossed the tan-fleshlike portions of her exostructure. A reptilian head made her torso plate,
and a pair of small wings were on her back.
    "Hold it, Maximal." She warns.
    -Maximal...-
    "Before you go leapin' up and make a mess, you need to be aware of exactly what's going on here."
    "Who...."
    "Name's Rascal. I'm a Predacon, and you're in a Predacon Lab. In fact, you're a Predacon experiment.... Gawd, I've got to be out of my
spark to pull this stunt."
    She seems to square off her shoulders and make a decision, "Nope, it's what Packy woulda wanted." She states to herself.
    "I... I am BATTLESTRIPE!"
    "uhm, yeah, great, you're also in a heap of kitty litter if you don't shut your maw and listen."
    You glare at the smaller robot.
    "You were made as a super soldier for the Predacon's, but I've turned you into a Maximal with a chip I, borrowed from... an old friend." She
seems sad at the last part.
    "There are two Cybertron's in this base who are in terrible danger, but they don't yet know it. They crashed here because a cohort of mine
brought us to this outpost. They don't know anything about you, but the laboratories owners will kill them just to keep this place a secret. You
see, you're quite an illegal experiment. Playing with a spark, toying with alien technologies...."
    "I'm not sure i follow you."
    "It's not important, yet. You just have to know that you need to act like a Pred until the time comes when you can grab the two Cybertron's
and high tail it outta here!"
    You look at her. Not quite sure what to make of it all.
    --Predacon--
    It is not a word that you like.
    But Cybertron. That you feel a kinship to. And if these others are in trouble.....

Farrian: Predacon Outpost IA-12

    You stand up and flex your hands, "Then I shall go and free the Cybertrons."
     "Whoa, " the smaller Predacon jumped in front of you, "You're not fully in sync with that body yet, and we're in the highest tech Predacon outpost I've ever seen!"
     "You said they created me as a warrior."
     "Yeah, well warrior or not, it's best you learn that guns don't always solve problems."
     "You said they were captive."
     "Yeah, but as far as they're concerned they're royalty around here. They don't know anything about what the Predacon's are planning, but if you start to go on a rampage...   Well, they'll likely be terminated before you ever even reach them."
     "I'm not following you..."
     "Those processors of yours must still be buggy. Ok, me, one other Predacon and the two Cyber's landed...well crashed here with some important news. The Predacon outpost is a secret, so the Cybertron's will be terminated before they're allowed to leave. But is it easier to terminate someone who is on their guard and ready to fight, or to terminate the guy whose got his feet up and is taking a snooze."
     "I see..."
     "So, if you want outta here, I've gotta make sure we have a ship to leave in. I think it will still take a day's worth of work to get the ship ready. Meanwhile, you've got to play happy Pred so we can spring a surprise and get out of here with our hides!"
     "For a day."
     "For a day."
     You think about this for a moment. A large part of you is ready to try out your new weapons systems, but what if the girl was right? Still, your data tracks show the capabilities of your new body to be rather impressive. All this subterfuge didn't sit well with your diodes...

    You shove the small Predacon to the side, "I'm the advanced war machine here. Let's show them what I've got."
     You step out into the hallway.
     Everything is quiet.
     You scan the building, reading two Maximal signatures on a higher floor.
     You turn and stalk down the hallway, sensors ready. The walls were crosshatched with warning marks and do not enter signs. Door upon door lned the walls. But the hallway itself was silent.
     You turn a corner and see a lift doorway. The red light shining down on the door glitters off a keypad.
     You step forward cautiosly.
     And two guns drop from the ceiling.
     You dodge sideways as one of the blasts rips into your torso. You're transmetal skin absorbed part of the blast, but pain still shoots through your circuits.
     A door behind you shifts open, you spin to see a Predacon with large wings, glittering with a myriad of scintillating colors.
     "Battlestripe. What are you doing? How were you activated? Wraith systems off."
     The guns roll back into the ceiling.
     You flex your hands and prepare to pounce.

IA-12 : Predacon outpost

    Your joints tighten, ready to spring. The Predacon looks at you, confused, knowing that there was danger, but not understanding its source.
    You thrilled in the knowledge of his fear, so you pounced.
     The Predacon was fast, he dodged to the side, and brilliant slices of light flew from his wings. You felt white-hot pain sear along your arms
as his attack sliced at you. But you're transmetal skin was tough, and you reacted instantly, pulling to the side and drawing your weapon.
     You locked on to your target and fired twice. The bullets went wide, real wide. Another crystalline blade of light flew at you slicing you
across the face.
     "Fool, you're circuits still aren't in sync with one another!"
     Anger welled up inside of you. Like a cold seed it rose and burned, freezing your spark and at the same moment burning it like acid.
     You leapt, caution be slagged.
     The clash was ferocious, and bloody...
     The Predacon was dangerous and skilled, but he was no match for your power and feral anger. The fight lasted seconds, and seemed to be
etched in your mind as if it were millennia.
     Now, you crouched, with a clutch full of the Predacon's circuitry in your hand. A cold, sick feeling weaves its way through your spark as
you stare down at the exposed core.
     You stare at the glowing spark. Its pulse mesmerizing you. The life force of this robot, exposed and helpless. The heartbeat seems to draw
you in, calm you as you stared at it.
    You release the hand full of circuits.
     They clatter noisily to the floor.
     --Is this what I am?-
     You feel the heat from the spark.
     --Is this what I want?-
     Confusion tears through your processors. Confusion, anger, and fear.
     --I had to defend!!-
          -Did I?-
     --He would have killed me-
          -Would he?-
     --I am a warrior!!-
         -or a killer?-
     You draw back your fist, setting yourself to deliver the final blow...

IA-12 : The Predacon Labs

     As you stare into the spark, you feel control returning from the edge of your berserker rage.
     Then, a cough behind you draws you back to the present, "Hello, I am Backdraft, a Cybertron from Charr security forces and this is my
friend Retrohopper. Who might you be?"
     You look up, confusion still stirring in your spark. Then the world crystallizes into stark clarity, and you feel a sense of sick numbness creep
over your chassis.
     "I am Battlestripe, a Maximal." You answer, standing up.
     "Where are we anyway? We weren't supposed to get off on this floor, call
it bad luck, huh? Or perhaps good luck that I ran into you." The rusty orange Cybertronian name Backdraft continues. He's large, twice your
size easily. His frame is covered with charred marks, stained into his metal. He seemed to transform into some kind of air vehicle. He starts to
step from the elevator.
     "No!" You quickly warn, "Stay in the lift. Let me come to you. If you get off, the sensors will activate again." You motion toward the gun
panels in the ceiling.
     You stand, leaving Crystalwing's body crumpled on the floor, "Rascal said that the Predacon's here were planning to destroy you."
     "Rascal? You know her?" Backdraft asks.
     "She... woke me."
     "Well, she's the one that can best answer what the slag is going on here!" The Cybertronian answers in annoyance, "Retrohopper, can you
get this elevator going again."
     The smaller one was a golden color, with Transmetal technology covering him. You weren't too sure what he changed into, "I think I almost
have it..." The elevator lurches upward again.
     Backdraft looks at you as the elevator continues, "So, Battlestripe, feel like fighting a Decepticon Empire?"
     You blink, "What is a Decepticon?"

IA-12 : Predacon Outpost

     "The Decepticons are power hungry Cybertronians bent on destroying peace and taking over everything." The large, rusty orange one
snarls.
     "To sum it up, " adds Retrohopper, the smaller one, "They're responsible for attacking Cybertronian Outposts of every allegiance recently."
     "And we are the only ones who know about it." Mutters Backdraft.
     "Hmm," you ponder, "Then I will happily join your cause, but what link do these Predacons have to the Decepticons."
     "None, that we know of. We crashed near one of their bases while following a squad of Decepticons to their planet. The base was
attacked and destroyed. We managed to help a few escape their destruction and made our way here. With a Decepticon carcass in tow."
     "Then what do we do now?" you ask.
     "I’d like to find that carcass, get some repairs done, and find our way to a Maximal or Cybertron outpost."
     The elevator stops, and the doors slide open.
     Two, large spider-like droids stand with guns aimed at the elevator.
     Retrohopper breaks the silence, "uhm, this isn’t Sporting Goods, is it?"

IA-12 : Predacon Outpost

     You jump back against the elevator walls as two sets of Gattling guns let loose into the elevator.
     You unlock your own weapon, a rifle with a sharp underblade, and look across at Backdraft. He too had pulled a pair of large turbine
looking cannons from his chassis and was pinned against the wall.
     The comm units crackled, "Retro, can you use the elevator controls to hack into these guys?"came Backdrafts voice above the gunfire.
     "I doubt it, it looks like the controls are kinda slagged!"
     "Prime, well, Battlestripe. Looks like it’s time for a fight."
     Retrohopper’s voice interupts again, "Hey, we are on the level we need to be. If we can get down the hallway a bit, we can get to the ship!"
     You hear a screeching noise.
     "Slag! The elevator's giving way!" you growl.
     The damage from the guns was on a horizontal line across the elevator walls, and it was tearing the metal enough to make your weight an
unwelcome factor. In a few seconds it would fall.
     You transform to your beast mode. As the large tiger, you crouch down below the spray of the spider droids cannons, jump out and tackle
one of the droids, pushing it backwards and into the other.
     This gives Backdraft the chance he needed. He lurches out and away from the elevator and brings his cannons to bear. A gout of explosive
napalm jets forth from his weapon, charring the other spider droid.
     Retrohopper moved out of the lift and started shooting with his gun, a small, chrome golden blaster that didn’t seem to do much to the spider
droids heavy armoring.
     You clawed into the monster that you had hold of, your jaws grasping around one if it’s cannons and ripping it free.
     In seconds the two robots were in shambles on the ground.
     "If these two were after us, then it won’t be long before they set more upon us."
     "Agreed," nodds Backdraft, "Let’s get moving."

     In minutes, the three of you made your way to the outside doors. Backdraft turns toward you, "The ship lies about fifty yards off of the
station. Hopefully, Rascal’s on board and she can explain what the slag happened!"
     "Then it’s just a quick sprint toward our escape."
     "Ready?"
     "Ready."
     Retrohopper reaches for the door controls, "Ready."

     There were a lot of battle droids outside that door…
     Ten of them sat between you and the ship, and three or four more sat on top of the ship itself.
     You instinctively transform into car mode and roar into the midst, knocking over two or three in the path.
     Retrohopper was close on your tail, and you could hear the roar of flames as Backdraft started firing on the closest droids.
     Within seconds the field is a fiery battleground. You transformed to robot mode and had begun to fire into the grouping with rockets and
blaster fire.
     Retrohopper had made it too the ship, and now, you just found yourself keeping the path clear so that the larger, slower Backdraft could
make his way into the ship.
     You spin and smash your fist through another spider droid, "Don’t suppose you could hurry!" you growl to Backdraft.
     "Whatsa matter? Things to hot for you?" laughed the Cybertron as he melted the ground underneath a spider droid, sending it sinking slightly
into a pool of molten glass.
     "No, but I think we may be here all day if we don’t leave soon!"
     "What? We’ve already sliced through half of these things."
     "Yeah, but what about their friends." You point towards the base, where more droids were marching out. A lot more droids.
     "Good point. Backdraft, vehicle mode!" He transformed into some ancient designed air vehicle and moved over the droids and into the
ship. You jumped in behind as you heard the engines blast signal the liftoff of the ship.
     The two of you, panting, looked at each other.
     "You look like hell, kid." Commented Backdraft.
     And you did, the fight was rougher than you two would liked to have admitted.
     "Now, let’s go find Rascal." He finished.

IA-12 : The Darksky

     You hit the controls for the door as Backdraft clangs up the access way. The door pulls up with a loud clang.
     "Battlestripe, where’s Retrohopper?" Backdraft asks.
     The comlink shuts on and Rascal’s voice crackles over it, "He’s on the bridge with me. We’re set to go! Get up here ASAP!"
     The two of you bolt towards the main bridge of the Darksky.

     The ship was thrumming with the sound of the engines by the time you reached the bridge. Sounds of muffled explosions could be heard
from outside, and the ground was beginning to drop below the viewscreens.
     Backdraft slid into a command chair behind Rascal and Retrohopper, while you plopped down at a weapons console.
     "Divert extra power to shields!" Backdraft shouts.
     "No good," reports Rascal, "You slagged the shields, remember? The droids hadn’t repaired THOSE yet, just the leak in the engine
reactors!"
     You hit a couple of buttons and gave an evil chuckle, "But weapons systems seem undamaged."
     With that you begin firing on the ground units, tearing the ground around them to shreds. You launch a volley of missile fire at the incoming
jets and watch as they shatter to cinders.
Backdraft nods, "Pull us free of orbit then. Let’s find a safe haven to jet to!"

     Sometime later, the Darksky was in warped space…
     "Now, Rascal," Backdraft starts, "I don’t suppose you’d care to fill us in on what the SLAG is going on here?"
     "Look, charboy." The small female turned in her chair, "Just cuz I rescued your axles, don’t go thinkin’ I owe YOU loyalty!"
     "Look, we just want to know what happened down there." Backdraft sputtered.
     "Ok, it’s like this… After we landed and I was repaired, the two Predacons on the base told me and Fractyl that you were to be
terminated…"
     "Terminated?!?" Retrohopper burst out, "But why repair me? Why give me the new armoring?"
     "As a test. A test for their prototype warrior drone. Him."   She points as you.
     You rumble in assention, thoughts of the previous weeks of ‘testing’ crawling through your mind, "I was a super warrior made with the
Transmetal armor that was discovered a few weeks ago. I was to be Predacon, but Rascal did something to alter that."
     Everyone looks back at Rascal, who seemed to be drawing in on herself, "It was Packrat’s Maximal Freewill chip. I removed it from his
body when I placed him on the pyre. It was what he would have wanted me to do…"
     Retrohopper nods, " ‘To new life…’ That’s what you meant by that."
     Rascal turns away.
     "You will always have a place her with us…" Backdraft begin.
     Rascal turns on him, anger flaring in her eyes, "I don’t WANT a place with you. I am Predacon. I ENJOY being a Predacon. I like the
hunt, the kill, the harsh paths they…WE follow. I LIKE not answering to anyone, not being responsible for anything. I only saved you because
you saved my hide… repeatedly. And in doing so, I sacrificed all I’ve known and lived for!"
     She stands and walks from the bridge. Backdraft begins to go after her, but you grab his arm, "She is confused and alone… I know what
she is going through, and you can not help her. Right now, you represent everything that she is angry at. Do not give her a target to lash out at,
not yet."
     He nodds.
     "So uh," Retrohopper speaks up turning to Backdraft, "where too?"

Warped Space: The Darksky

    Backdraft sits down in the command chair, "Retrohopper, give me a 3-D holo projection of the surrounding systems, I want to know of the
available free-ports. Also, see if you can log on to any signals and see if there is any report of Decepticon attacks."
    You tap up more data on the control systems of the warship.
    Behind you, you hear Backdraft, "Computer take recording, download to disk."
    "Begin." Came the computer's voice.
    "Rascal," Backdraft begins with some hesitancy, "I don't have any answers for you and I may never, that is for you to find on your own.
    We are all, essentially, outcasts at this point. Retrohopper and I are AWOL from Charr, and Battlestripe...well you know his story better than
I do.
    I will not order anything on you. I only ask for your help, humbly.
     When I met you I was under the impression that all Predacons were the same, no offense intended. You are so much more, that I curse my
prejudice. You are one of the bravest souls I have known for what you have done, not only for me, but for Battlestripe and Retrohopper. I
know you helped Battlestripe because of Packrat, but… that too is commendable.
      I ask of you your help in the greatest hunt the universe may ever know...the hunt against the Decepticon menace. I want to turn us into birds
of prey rather than rodents scurrying form hole to hole. I want to strike a blow to the heart of the Decepticon
elite and bring peace to the universe once again.
       What I ask may very well be a suicide mission, I know that all too well. I have also lost friends to the Decepticon plague, but if not stopped,
the Decepticons will go from outpost to outpost until they have stomped down all life under their decrepit banner.
       If you really meant "to new life" then please consider what I ask of you. The Decepticons wish to wipe out all life or make it serve them.
This has to be avoided.
      I will not ask this of you, if you think that the burden is too great to bear. In truth it is, but I am an old Cybertron, I feel my time to do
something for the people of Cybertron has come. If it means my undoing, then so be it, I will proudly fall for this cause.
      If you wish, I will drop you at a spaceport, but please, think it over."
     As he spoke, both you and Retrohopper had turned to look at him.
     You smile and nod slowly, Retrohopper gives a little salute and reports, "Well, Captain, It looks like there are a few systems near here, but
nothing major. WE have our choice of a Predacon Outpost, or two Destron Outposts."
    "Not good." Sighs Backdraft.
    You turn your chair to look up at the old bot, "Why not return to Cybertron? After all, if you want to spread word about an Armada.
Wouldn’t that be the place?"
    Backdraft seems to consider this for a moment.
    "Hey Backdraft." Retrohopper interjects, "I got a signal from the news archives on Cybertron."
     The news archives was a low level reporting line that other news carriers used to strain out the stories they wanted. It was also used for
deep space explorers to pick up what was happening around the universe.
     "Decode and display lines based on Decepticon attacks and on The Council." Backdraft orders.
     "A list’ll be ready in five minutes."
     He stands up with a disk in his hand, "I’ll be back."
     You return to your studies, the ship itself was fairly undamaged. It appeared some engine work had been done on the rear of the ship, and
the only systems that seemed to still be offline were the shielding systems. There were minor surface marks from the spider droids, but the ships
armoring was heavy enough to absorb most of it.
     This was an impressive warship.
     You switch over to the screens that Retrohopper was downloading. Your monitors fill with report listings on the topics that Backdraft asked
about.
     About fifty reports of small stations being annihilated are available. There are also listings on the proceedings of the Joint Councils, who
appear to be in session on Cybertron.
     There are is a vague report rumor about an attack survivor, and rumors that a plague is causing energon explosions across the galaxy.
     There are also reports that a planet on the outer rim had exploded. The planet was rumored to be the spot where some robot named
Convoy had been spotted.
     There were a few history articles on the Decepticons, and a rumor column about a Decepticon Empire being built on some remote planet.
     Meanwhile, Backdraft returns and tells Retrohopper to continue on towards Cybertron until there was a better ideal…

Cybertron : The Darksky

     The Darksky shifted out of hyperspace. Around it, space suddenly became filled with smaller ships that darted to and from
various satellites that orbited the planet in the distance. Immediately, the communications array is activated.
     "Receiving hail from Cybertron, Backdraft." Retrohopper reports.
     "Put em through." Backdraft answered.
     "This is Cyberport central," came a computer modulated male voice, "Your ship is not registered with our record banks. Please
send identification and registry numbers."
     "Ok, send it, Retro."
     "I can’t."
     "What?"
     "The computer’s data banks are empty, wiped!"
     "What?"
     You turn to your console while the two are talking. The base schematics are online, but it looks like any extra data seemed to be
wiped. Including scanner recordings, camera recordings, and communications logs.
     "It looks like some kind of virus," Retrohopper reported, "it’s dumped the memory banks, looks like it was a slow virus,
something that wouldn’t attract attention until it was done. Starcharts, registries, combat data, everything is wiped!"
     "Slag. Open a channel."
     "Opening."
     "This is Backdraft, I am a member of the security forces of Charr. We are returning to Cybertron onboard a vessel impounded
from a unit of Decepticons."
     "Whoa." A new voice replaced the computers, "What are you talkin’ about son?"
     "We need to get to the Cybertronian Council to report. The ship’s databanks look like they’re wiped, so we’ve got no registry."
     "You in command of that vessel?"
     "Yes."
     "You want us to allow a battleship to land next to the Heart of Cybertron’s ruling councils?"
     "Uhm… well, if you put it that way."
     "Put your gears on hold, set the ship on powerdown. We’ll send a boarding inspection group. I’ll send word to the Council’s
and let them know what’s going on."
     "Thanks."
     The communication channel shut off.
     "You heard the man. Down all systems. Get Rascal on…"
     The doors to the main bridge open and Rascal stomps in and plops down unhappily at the nav console, "Systems shutdown in
progress. I think someone may want to go do a checkup of the trap systems the Con’ had in place."
     "Battlestripe, go below and make sure the way is clear for the inspection team. The rest of you come with me to greet the party.
Stripes, meet us in the hangar when your finished."

     The traps were impressive, you found most of the units, since blast marks showed where the Cybertronians had fought their way
past.   There were holo units, sound dampers… one room had a destroyed set of blades that spun out from the center. But for the
most part everything seemed to be deactivated.
     You prowled through the corridors quickly in tiger mode. Running the length of the ship, just to make sure that things were clear.
    Retrohopper had told you the story earlier. The Cybertrons along with Rascal, another Predacon, and the Maximal Packrat, had
stolen aboard the ship, only to find it rigged with traps. They had fallen down into the area you now checked, between the main
hallways and the lower hull of the ship, where they were tricked, electrocuted, cut up and softened on their way to the bridge.
Retrohopper, Rascal, and Packrat had been critically injured in the assault. The other Predacon had been knocked offline as well.
The only one left standing to face the Con commander had been Backdraft.
     Now your tread pads softly through the hallways and past the charred markings of the Assault groups advancement.
     You hear a noise. Footsteps from near a bulkhead, footsteps and a door closing. You move to investigate.
     Behind one of the bulkheads was a heavy, steel door.
     "Battlestripe, maximize." You mutter softly, switching to your robotic form.
     You reach for the door and pull it quietly open.
     Inside was a dark chamber. You scanned the area, but the engines proximity caused a buildup of static on your sensors.
     You step in.
     Immediately, a hissing noise fills the chamber, and a webbing of wire-like filaments fills the room. None of them touch you, rather
they weave in and out of the areas between your arms and legs, surrounding you like steel netting.
     You hear the door shut behind you.

Cybertron orbit: The Darksky

    --Hmm, unimpressive.—
     You step forward, moving to break through the fine filaments. There is a snapping noise as the strands break followed by a sharp
lashing and a nasty stinging. The strands curled inward as they snapped, their long strands cracking into your armoring with lightning
strikes. As you reared in pain, you manage to snap other strands who also whip inward, wrapping themselves around your frame
and slicing through metal as well as flesh.
     You drop and growl in pain, the razor-like filaments embedding themselves deeply into your structure. Smoke curls out from your
arm where a filament has wrapped around the joint and was ripping into your servos.
     The pressure finally dropped, but the damage was done. Fluids leaked out onto the floor and formed a smoking puddle below
your knees. Every movement brought back a sharp sting of pain from the embedded wires. You’re optics were hazing in and out as
the systems struggled to compensate for the pressure and for the loss of fluids.
     You carefully pull a blade free from your hand and begin to slice the wires away one by one. Being sure not to let the new halves
double over and do more damage.
     You’re systems compensate for the damage, and you are finally able to get a clear view of the surrounding. The room wasn’t
very large, but you were still several meters away from the doorway behind you. The netting covered every square inch of the area
between you and the door. In fact, it covered everywhere except for a swath that was missing from your struggling.
     The going was slow, but it gave you time to focus and plan how to escape…

Cybertronian airspace: The Darksky

     You stand, your joints stiff from the damage. The pressure the cords had exerted terrible pressure as they snapped into you. A
normal bot would’ve been cut into shreds by the onslaught.
     Now, you mind fogged with pain, you thought only of escape. You reched behind and pulled out to sharp blades. A set of long
knifes that had been included in your makeup. They should to the trick.
     You reach back and prepare to cut your way free with a fierce and quick swipe, ready to jump back as much as possible, without
jumping into the wires behind you. The wire should snap up, hopefully catching only your knife.
     The door opens as you bring your knives down.
     "NO!!" you hear Backdraft, and you jerk your head up as the blades sing past and through the wire.
     The momentary distraction costs you. The wires snap down in a stinging hail of constricting razor like pain. You swoon and drop
to the ground, snapping more wires on the way.
     Red pain coats your receptors as you reflect that this might not have been the best ideal, and some part of your mind reflects that
it makes sense that they would have tried to find you in a few minutes…
     Then everything goes black.

Sometime later you become aware of a CR chamber working steadily on a systems repair…

Cybertron: The Darksky

     The CR chamber’s door swing out wide with a hissing rush of air. You step out, the coldness of the ship singing through your
slightly damp fur.
     Two shaggy dogs are laying on the floor, their ears perk up as you step out. One is a rough looking gray, the other a much
cleaner yellow and brown.
     The yellow and brown one stands up, "K-9, Maximize." And shifts into robot mode.
     --A… Maximal!—
     "Greetings, Battlestripe. My ally and I were asked to await your awakening and welcome you officially to Cybertron."
     "Who are you?
     "My name is K-9, this is Wolfang. We, like yourself, are both Maximals. We helped to pull you from the wire trap down
below."
     "Thanks."
     "The others weren’t sure if you would awaken in time."
     "In time?"
     "The Darksky is landing on the surface of the planet, even as we speak. You and the others have been asked to report to the
Cybertronian Councils to plead your case on the identities of the raiders."
     "What is there to plead?"
     "This ship held no markings, records, recordings, or any data to back up what your friends have said. So, the Council refuses to
act upon their words without more solid proof."
     "But I saw… Well, actually, I only saw the shuttle that attacked us."
     "Exactly. Unless we can get some solid proof, then the Council may well refuse to act."
     "But… you seem to believe it."
     He looks down at the wolf at his feet, "No Maximal or Cybertronian made that trap you were in. Not even the Destrons or the
Pred’s would likely have made something that nasty. Something about your Captains story rings true."
     "So, what now?"
     "You join the others outside the ship."
     Wolfang raises his muzzle into the air, "The ship has landed. Let’s go."

Cybertron: orbit

     Down below the landing struts, your comrades waited, you could see the Predacon, Rascal plodding past Backdraft in beast
mode, the Velociraptor’s head swinging unsteadily too and fro, "You’re home, I’ve never even been here!" she was continuing a
conversation.
     You call out, "Don’t worry, Rascal. I’ve never been here either!"
     The group turns to see you.
     "It’s good to see your up and running again, Battlestripe." Backdraft calls out.
     "And just in time to see this new world!" you grin.
     "It is out homeland and what we protect." K-9 spoke as he seemed to lap in the starry sky of the Cybertronian city.
     "Gentlemen," Thunderfist steps in front of the group, "It is time for us to meet the Council."

     You were separated from the group. Each of you were to present what you knew to the councils.
     After a long wait, you were taken before them. The chambers consisted of a Crystal dome above you, and a circular table where
the Council’s sat. There were members from what you assumed the different councils Present. You stood in the center of the table
area, in a recessed area.
     A shaggy Maximal called Cerebrus took charge of the proceedings.
     You told them what you knew of the trip since your activation. They grilled you on the Predacon outpost. All of them asking
probing questions, while the Predacon’s that were present looked terribly upset.
     Soon, you were back out and waiting.
     Not long after that you were brought back to the others of the group, and then taken back before the Council.
     "Backdraft, the stories presented by these Cybertronians has painted a story, although it has some inconsistancies, of what has
happened since you went AWOL. The information is intriguing and pressing, but we are still afraid that without any solid proof…"
     "SOLID PROOF!!! What do you want?!?" yells Backdraft.
     "WIThout any solid proof, we can NOT justify a full scale deployment and witch hunt for a phantom group that a eclectic
gathering of renegade robots states is out there."
     "What!?! This is ridiculous!"
     "BUT, we have decided that you be allowed to keep command and ownership of the ship Darksky, which is being re-outfitted
and repaired even as we speak. You’re charge now is to find proof, discretely, of the threat that is now wreaking havoc on our
outposts and resources.
     You will not be given permission to press a crew into service, and it is up to you to find bots to man your ship. Essentially, you
will be operating alone. We can not tie the council’s to this mission, or else we risk wide scale panic, and uprising of rebel groups
toting faux Decepticon banners."
     And so their judgement was passed.
     Outside Backdraft gathers the group, "This may be the last time that we are together." Retrohopper starts to speak, but
Backdraft holds his hands up, "Listen to me. My path will lead me to the stars, and to a war that I fear has already ignited. There is
no guarantee that I will be able to find anything, but then again, I may find more than any of us can handle. They tell me the ship will
be ready in one solar cycle. Anyone who wants to join me, show up at the docking bay tomorrow morning. I want us all to separate
paths now and consider what it is I’m asking of you. I go to hunt the Decepticon Empire, one of the oldest and most dangerous of all
Cybertronian groups. I don’t expect to be able to return to this home soil ever again. I’ve seen what war does, and I know it’s
results all to well. Some of you are too young to know that, others, they know it all too well. I say farewell now, and know that I
will always consider all of you brave and fierce, but your paths must be your own. Now, goodbye Transformers."
     With that he turns and leaves, transforming and flying deep into the starry night sky.
     The rest of you turn silently away to think on where your paths will lead you.

Cybertron: Iacon

    You transform and head out to investigate the glittering streets of Cybertron.
     The sights that greet you that night are fascinating, but the calm that covers the planet, seems to be an odd contrast to the struggles
that led you here. Everything seemed peaceful and quiet.
     The peace felt good, but something in your spark knew that it was not yet time for such a peace.
     When morning came, it found you on the bridge of the Darksky, which had been newly repainted to red, blue, and silver, and had
Skyjammer’s black ship attached onto the top of it.
     You were syncing the weapons systems of the smaller, advanced ship to those of the Darksky’s main computers when Backdraft
came in and stood staring around for a few seconds.
    "Status." The large bot commanded.
    Rascal sat up in her chair and closed a panel on a tangle of wires, "We’re ready and set for take off, Captain."
    You see another bot, one that Roadbuster had brought in with him this morning walk up to Backdraft, "Greetings, names
Tanglefire. I met up with Roadbuster last night!"
    Roadbuster leans over to Backdraft, "Yeah, he helped with one of the final fights against the con’s back in the Great War. Good
guy, bad shot."
    "Hey! I can hit a energon goody from a mile away."
    "Hmph, and take out the building behind it." Roadbuster chides.
    Backdraft holds his hands up, "Welcome aboard then, Tanglefire." he clears his throat, "Welcome aboard to all of you. I’m glad
that you’ve made this decision, and with you I think we may even stand a chance of finding our prey. Though, I must admit, I’m a
little surprised that so many of you are here."
    Roadbuster starts, "Well, I figured you needed someone to cover your back, considering how often you step in the slag pool."
    Retro continued, "You knew I wasn’t going to jump outta this party yet!"
    Rascal, "Well, it’s not like I had anywhere ELSE to go. The Tripredicus council isn’t real happy with me right now."
    You purr, "You seem to attact a lot of fights. Cybertron was a little… quiet for my tastes."
    K-9, "Me and Wolfy here believe your story, and think that we are both called to help in your fight."
       Thunderfist, "The council’s wanted someone to go along who knew something about encryption. So, I kinda volunteered. Still
not sure why."
     You smile, "Well, I’m glad to have all of you. Rascal, send the codes for takeoff."
     "This is Darksky…"
     "No," Backdraft interrupts her, "This ship shall now be called, The Soulfire."
     Interesting, not a bad name…
     "This is… The Soulfire, ready for takeoff clea…"
     All the screens went black.
     "We are the Decepticon Empire. We now are in command of Cybertron."
     They all clicked off again.
     "Slag."

     Communications lines were dead, and as the confusion seemed to mount, Backdraft yelled over the chaos, "Rascal, Retrohopper,
engines on-line, we’re taking off."
     "We haven’t gotten clearance!" yells Rascal.
     "We aren’t getting clearance!" he yells back.
     "Wait!" yells Thunderfist, "There’s someone down there."
     "Who is it?"
     "One of the Maximal Elders, I think!"
     "Let him in. And get those engines up."
     A panting Maximal made his was onto the bridge, it WAS one of the Elders. A shaggy Maximal called Cerebus, "Backdraft, The
Councils are splitting up, the bombardment on the chambers has already begun."
     "And so you’re hear?" Backdraft looks at him in surprise.
     "I’m hear with orders. We are to take off, and leave Cybertron."
     "What!?!"
     "Commander, this is your ship, and I do not wish to take that from you, but conditions have changed. There is an armada in the
airspace of Cybertron. Only about five ships of any     worth are even present to defend Cybertron. Communications are dead, and
they are beginning to build a web to keep anything out, and to keep everything in!"
     "Then we just run?!" spits Backdraft.
     "Captain. These are your new orders. We are to abandon Cybertron, get to a safe distance and warn the other ships. All
Cybertronian vessels are to gather at these coordinates." He holds up a disk, "At these coordinates we will find one that will lead us
back to Cybertron as a joint armada to take back control of the planet."
     "A leader? Who?"
     "Don’t worry about that, let’s just get off the ground and out of here."
     Backdraft shakes his head, "You heard the bot, engines on-line, grapples free."
     Skyjammer looks up from one of the consoles, "Backdraft, my ship’s scanners are punching a hole through the static up there.
Seems like most of the armada is straight above, though they are beginning to spread out to cover more sky."
     Cerebrus growls, "We must get around them."
     Roadbuster plops down at a control, "Under atmosphere engines we won’t be able to beat them out as they’re spreading around
the planet."
     Backdraft grimaces, "Then we fight."
     "No good," adds Cerebrus, "We need to get free. The survival of this ship is of utmost importance at the moment."
     "Then what do you suggest?" Backdraft turns toward the shaggy Maximal.
     "I’ve got something." Thunderfist speaks up, "We can beat them out if we use the main engines."
     Retrohopper looks up, "That’ll slag half the city around here!"
     Thunderfist frowns back, "You don’t think the Decepticon’s will do that already?"
     "We don’t have to help them do it!"
     "No," Cerebrus adds, "He’s right. This area is fairly empty of civilian buildings, and the defensive shields on the others should
protect them from the engine wash. We have to get clear!"
     "Then let’s do it." Backdraft takes command, "Main engines on line, Retro, steer us a course of minimum civilian occupation."
     "On it."
     The roar of the engines reverberates through the hull of the Soulfire. Landscape begines to streak by as the mighty warship slices
through the atmosphere of Cybertron.
     "Begin a lifting course, prepare to break free of the atmosphere."
A beeping noise emanates from Skyjammer’s console, "They see us, and they’re coming after us. We’ve got two warships
separating and plotting intercept."
     "Will we clear them?" Backdraft asks.
     "It’ll be close."
     "Battlestripe, warm up the weapons."
     "Already did." you growl.
     Seconds creep by as the engines shake and push the ship free of the atmosphere.   Then the cities below you move away, and the
skies become filled with explosions and fire as you enter the shipping lanes. A panel of the screen blink and zooms in on two
warships that were making their way toward you, apparently shooting at anything along the way.
     Suddenly, everything seemed to streak into silver lines of light.
     "We’re free." Cerebrus sighs.
     "Then let’s start sending warnings. Cerebrus, work with Thunderfist and Skyjammer. Retrohopper, plot a course for those
coordinates on that disk. Good job, crew."

Soulfire: Hyperspace

     As the others begin to work on the data sending, you turn your attention back to the new battle stats for the hulls. As you tap
away linking new configurations between the two ships, Backdraft approaches you, "What about it, Battlestripe? Does this ship
have any kind of jammers?"
    Backdraft had been talking to Retrohopper about dropping a decoy out of hyperspace. It was easy enough to check on, so you
begin to tap in a few commands into the keypad on your computer, bringing up a schematic of the Darksky. You reaches up to tap
on the monitor, opening up a cross section of the weapons bays. An inventory listing begins to scroll rapidly down the screen.
    "We have low level icm jammers, but nothing that could be taken for a whole ship leaving hyperspace."
    Backdraft looks up over to where Skyjammer sat, "Skyjammer, does your ship have anything that might look like a ship dropping
out of hyperspace?"
    Skyjammer looks over and snorts, "You don’t ask much do you? The largest beacon I have couldn’t fool the Con’s into thinking
a ship left a hyper jump. It would have to be sizeable and noisy enough to get them to leave before looking to see that someone was
still in the jump tunnels."
    "A leap before you look problem, eh?" Backdraft sighs.
     "Yeah, even a nano second would be enough to see that this crate was still in the jump." Skyjammer grimaces.
     He walks back to the command chair and plops down in it heavily, "There’s got to be a way…"

Hyperspace: The Soulfire

     Skyjammer spins around, "I have an idea. Back in the 20th century the humans used cruise missiles that might sound like a ship
slamming out of hyperspace.
    "I need to look at all of the audio files that are available and see if any of the history files have a sound bite of a missile, but I think I
could build a white noise generator and amplify the sound. If I spool the recording, so that it slowly decreases in volume, it might
sound like a ship slowing out of hyperspace.
    "Give me thirty cycles and it should be complete."
    Thunderfist interjects, "But we don’t have a speaker system loud enough to cover the signature of the Soulfire’s continuance in
space!"
    You think back to the spec you had scanned of Skyjammer’s ship. Remembering something, you interrupt the others, "We have
one source, the static amplifiers on Skyjammer’s ship. They’re used to shed a jamming field around it."
    "Yeah," Skyjammer cautions, "but we’re not stripping out my ship while in hyperspace! There’s no way to get to it!"
    "Well, then there’s one choice." Roadbuster speaks up, "A few of us go with Skyjammer and drop his ship out of hypserspace,
while the Soulfire continues on toward the rendezvous."
    Backdraft thinks for a second, "Skyjammer, do you think your ship can catch back up?"
    "In a heartbeat." He was right, his ship was stocked with the tech and weapons to make it back.
    "Yeah," mutters Rascal, "assuming that whatever follows us doesn’t try to rip you from tail to nose."
    "It’s a risk, but it’s worth it." States Backdraft, "Skyjammer, take Roadbuster and…"
    Something inside you seems to call for the risk, "I would like to go with them."
    "Very well, take Roadbuster and Battlestripe. Drop out of hyperspace with your whitenoise generator on full blast. Hopefully that
will drag anyone out of the loop that’s tailing us. Loose them, and jump back into hyperjump. Get to the rendezvous asap."

    Twenty cycles later, you sat in the small cockpit area of Skyjammer’s ship.
    "Ok boys," Skyjammer explains, "detaching from the ship is the hard part. We’ve got to get our engines on an equal harmonic as
the Soulfire’s, or we’re likely to rip it to shreds."
    "You’re ship," grumbles Roadbuster, "You make the drop."
    "Ok, Battlestripe, give me a forty-two percent increase in the hypergenerator fielding unit, and get ready to hit the noise generators
as we drop from hyperspace. Roadbuster, get ready on those clamps, release on my count."
    You bring up a overhead readout on Skyjammer’s HUD display as you tap into and reroute the fielding unit’s power.
    Skyjammer began his count, "Five, four, three, two, one, count!!" There was a slight shudder and a jolt as the Soulfire seemed to
displace itself. You hit push extra power into the shields as you watch them shudder as if from an impact. As the ride smoothed out,
you reported, "Slight damage to forward shields, but everything seems stabilized now."
     "Good, get ready on the noise generator. One more time, boys, hit the generator on count of one. Five, four, three, two… the
bridge filled with a loud hissing noise that shaked the bolts solidly as it began to build, one!!"
     The ship dropped out of hyperspace with a roar that suddenly silenced into the vacuum of real space. On board, the walls shook
with a fierce rumbling.
     "shut off the noise generators!!" you faintly hear Skyjammer yell over the din.
     Silence settled over the scene.
     A silence that was short lived.
     Just as the ship winged out into the dark velvet of the peaceful silence of space, the fabric of space around it snapped with a pop,
and a flurry of small fighters swarmed out of nowhere.
     "It worked!" roars Roadbuster as the first shots slapped against the shields.
     You bring up a quick ship-to-ship scan of the nearest vessel, "Fifty units of small size. They are lightly shielded but heavily armed."

Of course, small size just meant roughly equivalent to your ship, and fifty was a large number.
You prepare for a bloody fight…

??: in Skyjammer's ship...

     The ship bucks and rocks as the swarm of attack ships begins to fire at you, "Battlestripe," Skyjammer yells, "go to the shield console over there and keep me
informed on our shield status every 20 nano-cycles."
     You slide over and start to tap in some commands at the shield direct console. Immediately registers begin to appear, and viable rerouting options are scrolled
across the screen.
    Skyjammer continues, "Roadbuster, I want you to go to the weapons console and activate all heavy space missiles and argon lasers. Not just any lasers, the
argon lasers! Also, deploy a full spread of countermeasures in a three-mile radius so that initial attack will be deflected until our shields are completely recharged."
    You look out, luckily, a large part of the ships had flown past you on the first run as they sped out of hyperspace, but now, they began to turn back toward your
ship.
    "I will be in the main gunner pod on the top bridge!" The camouflaged mercenary turns toward the hatch in the rear.
    Roadbuster yells, "And who’s gonna fly this thing!?!"
    "Attack pattern Omega-triad split four!" Yells Skyjammer over his shoulder.
    The computer bleeps in recognition of the command and the ship begins to spin away quickly from the incoming fighters.
    As the data settles, you take the first reading of the shields. After a few quick decisions, you reroute power in the ship and report. "Shields are at sixty-two
percent." You watch as two of the fighters blast in the opposite direction from Skyjammer’s ship. "These things don’t seem to be very good shots, seems like they
are a bit confused too."
    There’s no answer as another wave of fighters sweeps past the ship, spattering the shields with gunfire.
    There’s a heavy reverberation from above and a blast of light as Skyjammer fires the main cannons.
    A ship that had made the mistake of sitting still, as if totally lost, became the target. A fiery ball of flame engulfed it as the powerful lasers ripped through its
shields.
    Roadbuster reported, "One micro-cycle till laser recharge."
    Bolts of blaster fire started spewing out of the upper cannopy, a lighter cannon while the heavy hitters recharged.
    Bolts splattered around and across the enemy fighter ships. It would take a number of hits with these to punch through, but he couldn’t fire missiles with their ships
so close.
    The minutes crank by, you constantly shift the frequencies of the shields to cover up holes that appear as the fighters lace into the ship.
    You look up to see a ship, barreling down on you. If it hit, the shields would be dropped to almost nothing!
    Suddenly, the ship crumpled as blasts ripped through it from the argon cannons.
    You watch as a few of the ships seem to nearly hit each other.
    One ship takes a solid hit from the blaster cannons and begins to careen."
     "Skyjammer," you hear Roadbuster call, "You watchin’ this, kid?"
    "Yeah, somethings wacky out there." Came the reply, "They can’t be this stupid!"
    "I’ve seen this kind of attack confusion before. They’re drones." The older bot states.
    There’s a pause over the frequencies as Skyjammer thinks.
     "Watch this." He suddenly shouts.
    The ship shifted down suddenly, with a hard lurch, suddenly a volley of missiles fires from the bays…
    Completely missing everything on their way out of the swarm.
    "Great shot." You growl sarcastically.
    "Wait for it…"
    The missiles spread out and began to arc back, toward the swarm as the mass of fighters shifted again to surround your ship on their preprogrammed course.
    Orange balls of fire appear and as quickly are snuffed out in the vacuum of space as your missiles slam into surrounding fighters. There is a slight shudder as the
shock waves buffet your ship, but as the light dies down, only about half of the ships remained.
     You look down at a flashing red report on your screens, "Nice, but shields are at twenty percent and dropping now, and there’s still about twenty of them left."
     "And…" adds Roadbuster, "They’ve got more room to move. The attack pattern’s shifting."

Space: In Skyjammer's ship

    "Battlestripe," Skyjammer yells, "I want you to revert all non-essential systems to the shields. Leave all of the gunner pods operational and decrease life support
by 40%. I'll try to get another run with a missile bundle."
    You hear the comm-system by Roadbuster crackle, "Roadbuster, I need you to arm all available large and small warheads. Send them out in a bi-layer Delta
pattern. It should create a sort of homing minefield that will fly straight towards the drones."
    You switch the controls, diverting as much energy as possible into the required systems. The air temperature began to drop immediately as the air in the ship
stopped being circulated
    A spread of missiles went out as the ship jerked ahead of the swarm, explosions claimed several of the ships, but there was still a large group left.
    Another charged blast from the main weapon fired into the swarm. A ship shattered into sparks as it lanced through its hull.
    You look down at the sensors, "Shields down to fifteen percent. Engines are super heating from the radiation."
    Roadbuster adds to it, "We’re down to twelve of them, but we’re not hitting any other’s with missiles."
    "Great," Skyjammer’s voice crackled over the comm, "scan the area. Whatta we got?"
    You do a quick scan and growl in frustration, "There’s not much here. Closest system is a good five minutes on drive. Wait, there’s something metal scanning on
far sensors."
    "What is it?"
     You tap up a few controls trying to zero in on it, but to no avail, "Don’t know, it’s too far away, but it’s better than being out in the open. Shields are at ten
percent."
     "Then let’s do it, head towards it at full speed, drop a decoy, maybe it’ll keep a few off of our tail."
     Roadbuster acknowledges, "On it."

     The ship streaked toward the metal structure at full speed. The life support had to be dropped completely to increase the rad dampers on the engines. Now they
had picked up an odd whine that you didn’t like at all, but at least they were proving faster than the swarmers. You had outpaced them by about a fifty kilometers.
It gave you breathing room, but your engines couldn’t keep it up for long.
     Skyjammer was back on the bridge at the controls with you.
    Ahead, a dark hazy cloud covered the area where the metallic readings were registering.
     Flashes of light lit the cloud’s interior as you near it.
     "I do not like the looks of this." Grumbles Roadbuster.
     You had been scanning as best as possible, but the cloud was proving difficult, "Scanners are not penetrating the cloud very well. It’s charged with some weird
tachion particles.      They’re fluctuating at a high resonance and scrambling any in depth probing."
     "Is it safe?" Skyjammer queries.
     You check, "Our shields have recharged to fifteen percent. As long as we don’t go shooting out weapons in there we should be pretty safe."
     "Let’s go then."
     The ship wings into the cloud on low speed. There would only be maybe ten minutes to recoop before the swarmers were on you. Not long to find a miracle.
     The dark clouds billow around you, the flashes of light resolving into streaks of electrical lightning that silently caress the hull of your ship.
     "Shields holding steady." you purr in the silence, "In fact, the absorption generators appear to be able to draw some of the energy off of the storm."
     "How much?"
     "Not much, we haven’t even increased a percent yet."
     The outer lights switch on, piercing the darkness with tight beams that rotated around, searching for the metal signature.
     "It’s dead ahead, a quarter of a kilometer off." Roadbuster reports.
     The ship silently swims deeper into the cloud, searching for some kind of haven. The electrical storms increase as you fly deeper, flinging eerie flashes of light that
seemed to reflect off of… debris of some sort that floated deep within the cloud.
     The cloud shifts and parts, and with it, a piece of the debris hits the viewscreen.
     The gaping mouth of a decimated robot screamed in mute silence in the frozen cold of space. He hit the outside of the ship and then slid past as you moved out
and pulled along side the large structure that was registering on the scanners.
     "It’s some kind of station… or was." Roadbuster mutters under his breath.
     "It’s slag now. What’s that up there?" Skyjammer points as you move the ship along the tangle of struts and bared wires that composed the ruined ring of a
space station. A large, cylindrical object intersected the station.
     The ship slides nearer to it and shines the lights up. It was some kind of rocket ship. And on the side was a symbol.
     An ancient symbol, one you don’t recognized.
    Your processors spun to register it, and found a correlation in old data tracks.
    It was the Autobot symbol.

Skyjammer's ship- a derelict station

    Skyjammer pulls the ship closer to the station, "Battlestripe, set up a comm-link with that station and see if any of the Autobots are still functional. Roadbuster, I
need you to pull our ship near that rocket in case we need to use it."
    He looks carefully at the large rocket and thinks for a second, "We might be able to absorb some power from it but we’ll need to shut down weapons and
shields." Skyjammer gets up and begins to alter the control configuration on the energy cells to use them as intakes.
    Meanwhile, you send out hailing signals on all frequencies, "There is no reply from the station, but I am getting some rather odd energy signatures." You puzzle at
the fluctuating readings
    Skyjammer looked up, "Like what?"
    "I’m… not sure. The clouds are keeping us from scanning anything really clearly, even from here.   There seems to be some kind of odd energy infused into the
structure of the station itself. I’m running a more thorough analysis now." You tap in a new set of controls, tightening the beams of the scanning equipment to pierce
through the distortion.
    There’s a slight clunking noise that reverberates through the hull of the ship.
    "Sorry, bit too close." Mutters Roadbuster.
    "Don’t scratch my ship." Skyjammer complains.
    Your scans resolve and data begins to scroll across the screen. It only takes a segment for you to analyze the patterns that are displayed. There’s a temporal
pattern that would be dangerous…. Especially if you try to tap into…
     "There." Skyjammer throws a switch to turn on the energy dampers and to begin siphoning energy from the rocket.
    "Wait!" you roar.
    "What!?!"
    "Don’t siphon that energy!"
    "It’s a bit late, we already started. It seems to be running fine, what the slag is your problem."
    The scanners were displaying another set of readings that began to trouble you greatly. You look out the viewscreen at the massive rocket that the ship now sat
locked to, "Two problems, one, the energy that’s infused into that rocket appears to be temporal in nature. In fact all those flashes of energy are some kind of time
ripples of sorts."
    "You mean we’re in some kind of Time Warp?"
    "Time warp, time hole, time void, it’s impossible to tell inside of here, but I do know that it seems like the whole slaggin’ station appears to be in different times."
    "You’ve got to be kidding."
    Roadbuster pulls some of the outside lights together on the station, "No, he’s right, look at it, one second a spot will look almost new, the next there’s a rust hole
the size of this ship!"
    "Great, and what’s the second problem?"
    "Well," you pause, unsure of your analysis, "The energy scan’s on that rocket read two separate energy forces."
    "A generator and the time displacement?"
    "No, two BESIDES the time displacement. One is a generator, but the other has a signature!"
    "An energy signature?"
    "No, an aliegance signature!"
    "What?!??!"
    Roadbuster stands up and looks over the scanners, "It’s a spark, an AUTOBOT spark!"
     "Where? In the rocket?"
     Roadbuster taps a few controls, "No, it IS the rocket."

A Nebula: an Anomaly

    Skyjammer looks over, "Roadbuster, I'm open to suggestions here."The signature doesn't match anything in the database, Battlestripe, can you think of ANY
information that might help us." he moves to a chair in the middle of the room and sits down.
    You shrug, "The energy patterns outside seem to be meshing with out shields. And as far as that rocket… Slag, I was only built a couple of weeks ago!"
    Roadbuster looks over and suggests, "Why don’t you run the rocket design through the ship’s databanks."
    "Good thought," Skyjammer admits, "Computers, correlate rocket design."
    --Rocket seems to match with old Guardian design.—
    "What the slag is a Guardian?" you growl.
    Roadbuster looks up, "The Guardian robots were assigned to each of the greatest cities on Cybertron back during the Golden Era of Cybertron! They were all
destroyed or lost during the Second Great War! All except for one that I know of."
    "Who was that?" Skyjammer asks.
    "There was an old Autobot on Earth I heard about… I think his name was Omega Supreme. But he hasn’t been heard from for some time."
    Soon, Skyjammer gets back up and speaks again, "Okay, everybody get back to your stations. Were going to attempt to leave this cloud. Shields up and
weapons on standby. Roadbuster, I want you to turn the ship 180 degrees right and put her in hyperdrive"
    Roadbuster taps in a few controls, and there is a squealing noise.
    You look over, "What was that?!?"
    Skyjammer grimaces, "Outside scanners, status."
    Information begins to roll past the viewscreen up ahead. You begin to read it outloud, "Looks like only part of the ship tried to move. It’s the temporal
displacement. Seems like it’s leaked onto the hull of our ship. Part of it in the present tried to move, and part of it in the past didn’t."
    Skyjammer sighs, "Great, then we’re stuck."
    Roadbuster looks over the data again, "It’s worse than that. If I’m right, we stay here, and we’ll eventually go into a temporal lock just like the Guardian rocket
and the station!"
    "Oh, great, any ideals?" Skyjammer groans.
    You stand, "Nothing can be gained by sitting here. I suggest that we take the battle to it’s source!"
    He gives you an incredulous look, "What?"
    Roadbuster spins, "No, he’s right. If we can find the source behind this displacement maybe we can stop it!"
    "That means…"
    "Leaving the ship, going into the station, and finding the source of the temporal radiation." you growl.
    Skyjammer shakes his head and thinks about it…

A Nebulae : A Space Station

    Skyjammer stands up, "Okay, Battlestripe, Roadbuster, go to the bay doors and get ready to connect the tunnel to that ship. I'll stay here and put the locks on so
that we will have some time to get back here before the displacement shoots us out."
    "What about you?" grunts Roadbuster as he gets up.
    Skyjammer looks back at you, "I'll be there right behind you. If you need any electronics then go look in the back storage room."
    The two of you scramble out to the back of the ship.
    The small room in the back held racks of weaponry and equipment of every nature and style. Quickly, you select several scanners and some stabilizers that
should do the job correctly. Roadbuster gets some data plaques on temporal analysis and a reader as well. Then, the two of you begin the process of hooking the
two ships together.
     There is a heavy hiss of air as the light atmosphere of the shuttle’s airlock is dumped out into space. Then a groan and a whine as the locks burned their way
through the other ship’s hull.
     You shiver as you feel the atmosphere dissapate around you. You know that your processors didn’t truly need air to keep running, but still, you had never been
completely without before.
     The hull slab falls forward with a thunderous clang.
     "Anybody home?" Skyjammer asks as you step cautiously into the dimly lit hallways.
     The walls were blackened in places from some kind of fire, and only pale blue emergency lights lit the corridors. Your voice echoes hollowly off the walls,
answering itself from the empty sounds.
     "I do not like this place." You wheeze, still not used to the lack of air.
     Roadbuster reaches over and snags a piece of equipment from the your array and begins to punch in codes to the small scanner.
     "It’ll be down these hallways, toward the center of the ship." He points down left of the entry hole.
     "Then let’s make this quick." Skyjammer begins to move off into the darkness.
     As the three of you walk down the dim blue corridor, the station creaks and groans as if strained and pulled in different directions.
      "What’s that!?" you growl, your fur bristling on your shoulders.
     Down the hallway, a light was building, becoming brighter, or moving towards you!
     "It’s an anomaly!" announces Roadbuster.
     You see a crackling charge like blacklit electricity arcing down the hallway in front of you, heading directly toward you.
     "What do we do!?!?!?" Skyjammer yells as the crackling started to turn into a loud, rolling thunder!
     "Brace ourselves!" Roadbuster answers.
     The surge of energy rolled over you, sending a tingling sensation through your frame.
     As it washes past you, you close your eyes for an instant. The roaring sound fades and you open your eyes.
     "What the…??" Skyjammer mutters.
     The hallways were spotless, and the lighting was running on a normal setting. Voices could be heard from down the hallway, "… and when the testing
commences we will be able to open a portal that will separate the very fabric of time."
     You and the others slowly move forward, peering around a corner, where the voices were coming from. Two Cybertronians stood there.
     "Yes, but this new trans-dimensional gate… how can your scientist be sure that it can be opened with solid stability?"
     "We have opened and tested on a micro scale, transmitting minute sensors back and forward in time for differing amounts, minutes, hours, even two weeks!!" The
first robot was obviously excited.
     "And this will be the first to generate a hole large enough for a ship to pass through?"
     "A small one, one large enough for one robot and some generation…"
     The wave of energy swept through like a hurricane this time. In an instant, the hallways were devoid of life and energy, once again burned, with hole showing the
multi-colored clouds outside, through the station’s hull.
     About fifteen meters down the hallway, you could see the shattered corpse of one of the two Cybertronians, his mouth permanently gaping open in a look of
shock and horror.
     At first you thought he was alone, until the clanking of something hitting the hull outside drew your attention. You move closer, and look out of a large blast hole.
Outside, half a torso was caught in the wiring. It was slowly floating back and forth, hitting the outside of the station in an endless dance.
     "What the slag happened here?" Skyjammer mutters under his breath.
     You growl, "They were messing with time and blew themselves up?"
     Roadbuster shook his head, "No, these blast holes were made from the outside. That one came from the other side, and must have gone straight through the
‘bot, knocking him out the other side."
     Skyjammer nodded, looking at the large hole on the opposite wall, "Something attacked them."
     "Or someone." Roadbuster nodded.
     Roadbuster starts down the hallway, "Let’s find the center of this problem and take care of it."

     The hallways were occasionally littered with more dead bodies, but they were rare. Small waves of energy showed newer, and sometimes, older patches of
hallways as you walked along, but apparently, waves the size of the one that hit you were very rare.
     You move toward the center of the station, with Roadbuster in the lead.
     Soon, you find yourself moving past security doors, more often then not with a solid blast from a gun to create an entrance.
     Finally, you reach the dead center of the station, an huge chamber like a crystal sphere. You open the door and step in.
     Instantly you are assaulted by a mirage of images that seemed to blur together, and freeze at the same time. A chaotic collage of occurences swirled around you,
the deafening roar of an explosion, the humming of machinery, screams, silence, all seemed to be occurring at the same time.
     You scream.
     Then suddenly, everything seemed to rewind for an instant, and around you, Cybertronian scientists scuttled busily around their work, checking instruments and
welding pieces of machinery together.
     One robot nearly walks into you before he notices you with a jolt, "Who are you!?"
     Then alarm klaxons started. The robot spun to look at a large panel on the inside of the crystal hemisphere. It had changed to represent a scanner that registered
a number of unidentified ships entering the nearby area.
     Someone yells a report, "They’re Decepticon rogues sir!"
     A responding voice yelled, "Signal a surrender, we can’t take the chance of something happening to the time dialation reactors, the outcome is unpredictable!"
     Then another panel appeared, a black and silver robot was on this panel, "This is Syntax, I’ll take care of this Decepticon rabble."
     With that, the screen went blank and chaos ensued.
     "He’s insane! "
     "Autobot’s, Decepticon’s?!?!"
     "The wars are over!!"
     Everything flashed out of existance.
     Then, you were standing, alone.
     The crystal sphere was shattered, and once again you were without air. Heat radiated from the surroundings, and dead bodies lay, some still struggling or
twitching in death throes.
     You look out, through the hole broken in the crystal. A clear, starry sky shown through, and in the distance, explosions could be seen.
     A wave of energy slowly crawled away from the station, out into the darkness of space.
     You open a comm-channel, "Roadbuster, Skyjammer…?"
     The voice of the robot named Syntax crackles across in midsentence, "…. epeat, move out of the area at full speed. This is a complete retreat, the station is a
loss. Everyone back out."
     "Negative." Rumbles a deep voice, "Accident problematic. Survivors may still exist. I am going in to retrieve them."
     "Omega, get out of there." A voice you didn’t recognize, but you can see a large orange and gray robot in the distance. He transforms into a thick cylindrical
rocket and moves toward the station.
     You transform into cat mode and move up a large structure in the middle of the room to get a better look. But suddenly, everything begins to spin again.
Screams can be heard, the rending of metal and explosions.
     Then everything is cold, and silent.
     You open your eyes and see around you the crystal sphere, dark and strewn with charred circuitry and bodies, but silent.
     You shake your head.
     "I’ve stabilized the anomalies." You hear Roadbuster pant.
     You transform back to robot mode.
     You look over at where Roadbuster stood, he had rigged some machinery to a cracked ring that sat in the center of the huge chamber.   It seemed to be pumping
some kind of energy into the ring, stabilizing the massive structure.
     "The technology was old. They didn’t know how to re-stabilize a hole that had been made without a huge amount of equipment. It really only takes a certain
wave length to stabilize the rip."
     "How the hell did you know how!?" Skyjammer asked.
     "I had about two hours to read up on it while you two disappeared. Next time watch where you step."
     Skyjammer looked chagrinned, "So the time distortion is gone?"
     "Yep, problem being, those drones are probably already on their way."
     "Then let’s get back to the ship!"
     On the way, Ckyjammer relates his story to you. Apparently he had been there for the last seconds of the station. A battle cruiser opened fire on Omega
Supreme and instead hit the station itself. You tell them, "I saw the before and after of what you saw. Some lone warrior called Syntax apparently showed up,
chasing after Deathspire who was a leader of a renegade group of Decepticons. Then, next thing I know I was in a burning sphere, the waves from the blast were
flowing out toward the battle. Ships scrambled everywhere, and I picked up a call for retreat, but the Guardian transformed and headed here. Apparently, he was
trying to save any survivors."
     "That still doesn’t explain how he ended up through the hull." Roadbuster adds.
     "Who cares, I just want outta here as fast as possible!" Skyjammer transforms and jet down the hallway.
     You and Roadbuster glance at each other, "Vehicle mode!"
     Your wheels squeal as you pull ahead of the battle jeep.

     The first blast hit before you got to your seat.
     The ship shook violently, "Battlestripe, get the shields back up!" Skyjammer yelled.
     You begin to furiously tap on the controls, but they didn’t respond. You try rerouting as Roadbuster yells, "Weapons are charging, we’re back at full power, but
that hit didn’t do us any good!"
     "And there’s still too many of them," Skyjammer adds. "Detach the ship from the station."
     Two more hits shook the ship violently.
     "Slag," you roar, "Those blasts took out the shields before I even got to bring them up!"
     "We are so toast." Skyjammer sits back.
     Suddenly, a wash of plasma raked across the drone ships, annihilating three quarters of their numbers.
     "WHAT IN THE PIT WAS THAT!!!???!!!???!!!"
     The viewscreens switched to a rear view, the rocket no longer sat impaled through the station, rather, A huge orange, red, gray, and yellow robot sat crouched,
one clawed arm extended and heat waves still pouring out of it.
     Roadbuster chuckled, "Anyone want to meet a guardian robot?"

This marks the end of Battlestripe as a PC.