StarDestroyer.Net BBS

Dear readers: The following fanfic is a combination of Machine Robo, Gobots, and Transformers. It's set during World War I, in the same alt-universe as this fanfic. If any of you are fans of the original animated series, or have greater knowledge of history, feel free to post comments, criticism, and advice.
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Machine Robo: Storm of Steel

Written by Sidewinder (aim9snake@hotmail.com), 2008. Characters created and owned by Bandai, Hanna-Barbera, Hasbro, Production Reed (formerly Ashi Productions), and Takara.
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The winter of 1917 made the French town of Cambrai a hell to the men there. The bitter cold devoured frostbitten fingers and toes, like a live animal; the dark clouds were accompanied by a downpour of artillery shells and shrapnel that claimed friends' lives and made the survivors shiver in fear of being the next to fall under Death's shadow, and above all, a downpour of the sense that they were doomed to die and never see their homes again. As the war-- known to them as the Great War or, erroneously, the War to End All Wars-- raged without the trenches and within the minds of soldiers, their leaders sought whatever advantage would let them win the war. New strategies and tactics, new soldiers and officers who recently completed training and had yet to see battle, were sent to the trenches with mixed results, while scientists and engineers sought a superweapon that would bring victory to their nations.

No one imagined the superweapons would seek them and bring their nations to their knees.

The dawn brought despair, not hope, to the Zeppelin's crew; they knew the airship was now visible and therefore, vulnerable. Free of the weight of its bombs, the Zeppelin raced towards safety across the English Channel, trailed by two Sopwith Camel biplane fighters.

Second Lieutenant Nicholas "Nick" Burns guided his Camel to the left rear of his commander's. 'Damn, they're bigger than I thought.' The biplanes dived towards the airship, the roar of their Vickers machine guns heard over that of their engines. The Zeppelin's machine guns returned fire, but they were too late; incendiary bullets were already reaching into its gas bags.

As the Camels dived away from the doomed Zeppelin, Nick saw the airship glow with a blue-white light. 'What...?' Then a fireball rose up to devour the Zeppelin; Nick turned away from the burning airship to avoid being blinded, and dismissed the previous sight as sunlight reflecting off the Zeppelin's envelope. His commander turned west, towards their airbase, and Nick obediently turned in the same direction.

Boom! Nick's eyes widened in surprise as a second Zeppelin, identical to the one he helped destroy, appeared in front of the Camels. 'What the...? Where the hell did that come from?!' The biplanes climbed to let the airship pass underneath them and avoid a midair collision, while the pilots wondered why the Zeppelin's machine gunners held their fire. As his Camel followed his commander's and turned around to attack the Zeppelin, Nick noticed the unusual insignia it bore in place of the Iron Cross. 'That looks like... a purple snake's head?' The Vickers roared again, but the tracers' paths formed sharp angles away from the Zeppelin's envelope, as if it was armor plate. 'What the...?' Aerodynamic fairings retracted from the airship to reveal large caliber guns on its upper and lower surfaces, making the Zeppelin resemble a Bayern class battleship and the shadow she cast on the sea surface. 'Hell!' The airship-turned-battleship's turrets traversed until the pilots could see the gun muzzles, from which fireballs reached for the biplanes.

Although Nick's eyes were half-blinded by gunfire, the American could see Death's shadow fall upon his commander. His mouth opened to scream, but the sound of onrushing air drowned out his voice as the sea rushed towards him.

(Edited 04OCT2008: I had difficulty finding the human characters' full names, and originally gave Nick the surname "Eisenmann," the same as his voice actor in Gobots: Battle of the Rock Lords. Later, I learned Nick's surname is "Burns" from Scooter's Wikipedia article! How embarassing. :oops:)

The "Zeppelin" was commanded by one who was Death himself to those he faced in battle. The battleship's captain watched a motion picture within a motion picture-- Nick's Camel, its fuselage and wings perforated by shrapnel, dove out of sight-- as his lieutenant appear behind him.

"Lord Cy-Kill, the test firing was successful. Zod may now use the munitions available on this planet." With the guns silenced, the screen was the bridge's greatest source of light. The lieutenant was barely visible, a red-rimmed shadow whose silhouette suggested the presence of wings-- as the captain intended, to better defend the bridge against boarding parties.

The warlord known as Cy-Kill, the shadow of his wings towering over his subordinate, turned his head in his to the lieutenant, becoming a silver-rimmed titan in the light of the screen. "Retract the adapted guns and restore the disguise. Scan for suitable energy sources on our projected flight path."

"Yes, My Lord." The lieutenant bowed to his captain and then turned to a bank of electrical devices whose sophistication was beyond anything human hands could build, beyond anything human eyes would see, for decades to come.

Cy-Kill's gaze returned to the screen. Although the face reflected upon it was like a stone lion's-- fierce, hard, and cold-- the warlord's core blazed with joyous anticipation. 'Soon... I will wield the power of the Lord of Light, the God of Creation... I will rule the galaxy as a god myself!'

(Edit 23SEP2008: changed the identities of several characters.)

Pain! Paralyzing pain! Light! Blinding light! These sensations greeted the young man as he regained consciousness.

"Doctor, he's awake!" Noise! Thundering, deafening noise!

A blur appeared before him. "Sir? Do you remember your name? Do you remember what happened?"

"I..." The young man barely recognized it as his own voice, now hoarse and thin. "I'm Nick Burns-- Lieutenant Burns of the Royal Flying Corps. I'm an American volunteer." The blur resolved into a face-- a woman's face-- as Nick's eyes adjusted to the light. "Hello, beautiful." He used what strength remained to smile. "Is this heaven? I think I see an angel."

The nurse frowned. "I'll be the Angel of Death if you don't behave, Sir. For your information, this is the Saint Patrick Memorial Hospital. The crew of a trawler saw your plane go down, and rescued you." She watched Nick's head turn to examine the casts around both arms. "You broke both arms, along with your left leg." Nick looked down to see the sling elevating his leg above his heart. "God must be watching over you."

"Roy-- Captain Rutledge-- did he...?"

The nurse shook her head. "I'm afraid you were the only one they rescued," words that made the young American's heart feel as if it joined his biplane at the bottom of the sea. The nurse glanced away-- Nick's limited mobility prevented him from seeing what she saw-- and then looked into the young American's eyes. "A liason from the Army will arrive tomorrow to debrief you. Try to get some rest until then. You may call me or one of the other nurses if you need anything." The nurse turned around and stepped away.

"Wait!"

The nurse turned back. "Yes, Sir?"

"What should I call you?" Nick asked.

The nurse wore a sad smile, proof she'd seen too many deaths. "I'm Miss Allison J. Foster. You may call me 'AJ.'"

Nick tried to lighten both of their spirits with a bright smile. "Okay, Miss AJ."

"Rom."

"Gasp!" First Lieutenant Baron Rom von Stuhl awoke with a start, only to see his younger sister's face, which reddened as the embarrassed maiden stepped backwards.

"I'm sorry, Dear Brother. Did I scare you?" Baroness Galiena von Stuhl asked with a hand raised to touch her brother's right shoulder and comfort him, but frozen.

Rom shook his head and sat back on his chair. "No, I... I'm sorry to have troubled you, Liena," he said, using his sister's nickname. The young man leaned over to pick up the book he dropped, only to be reminded that his right arm was amputated above the elbow.

Liena took a knee, picked up the book, and put it on her brother's lap. "Did you have a bad dream?"

Rom hesitated before nodding. "I... I thought I heard Werner call my name." He saw Liena's eyes widen at the name of their elder brother, and laughed to calm his sister. "'Twas only a dream; I just miss him." 'Has it been one year already?' Rom thought of the day he shook Captain Baron Werner von Stuhl's hand before his brother boarded a reconnaissance plane that would fly him over the Italian lines; neither the plane or its crew were ever seen again.

Liena nodded to feign understanding. When her father and her brothers went off to war, Liena remained on the von Stuhl estate in Slovenia, a castle at the foot of Stol-- "Chair," the mountain that was their namesake-- far from the front. She couldn't imagine what trials Rom endured on the battlefield, and was afraid to imagine them; she heard Rom scream in pain as the darkness of night resurrected memories of the battle that took his arm, felt her brother's muscles tense in preparation for battle at the slightest touch, and saw Rom's eyes reflect the resignation of dying men. "I'll have the servants bring you some tea."

Rom smiled. "Thank you, Liena-- ahhhh!" Some unseen force sent his back arching away from the chair, a human bowstring.

"Rom!" Liena pushed against her brother's chest, trying to bring him back onto the chair. "Someone, help! Help!" She heard footsteps, and turned to see a maidservant running into the library. "Summon the doctor!" Rom's body suddenly relaxed; the bowstring was released.

"No." Rom held his sister's hand as he rose from the chair. "Don't summon the doctor." He turned to the maid. "You may leave now."

Liena nodded to the maidservant to assent her brother's order; then she turned to Rom. "Are you sure...?"

"I saw Werner."

Liena's eyes widened at the words.

"He," Rom seemed to look through Liena and the wall behind her, "is coming." The young man ran out of the library.

"Rom!" Liena raised the hem of her skirt so she could match Rom's strides, and ran after her brother. "Dear Brother, please stop! You're-- this is but a feverish dream! I beg you, please...!" She saw servants frozen in surprise, their wide eyes upon the now open main gates. Rom's coat, caught by the wind, flared in the gateway; then it disappeared. Liena turned to the nearest servant. "Summon the doctor!" As the manservant bowed, the maiden turned to the view of the mountain beyond the gates, and then back to the manservant. "Give me your coat." Once the manservant complied, Liena put on the coat and then followed her brother out of the castle.

It’s a bit unlikely that a Camel would be used against Zeppelin raids as late as 1918. By that point the only airships that would even try to bomb the British Isles were ‘height climbers’ designed specifically for altitudes of up to 20,000 feet and able to even higher in the right conditions. The Camel worked well against earlier Zepplines but it never had good high altitude performance, and was fairly obsolete in any role by 1918, it was mainly used as a strafer. One of the better high flying Zeppelin killers as I recall was the De Havilland DH-4, and beyound that the newer and higher powered Sopwith Dolphin or Snipe or the two seater Bristol F.2 are all more likely options. Its not a big deal at all… but well it would be nice for WW1 to involve more then the Camel or Foker triplanes for once.
Cant say much to the overall concept itself, since I have no idea what any of the animes your referencing are.

Sea Skimmer wrote:It’s a bit unlikely that a Camel would be used against Zeppelin raids as late as 1918. By that point the only airships that would even try to bomb the British Isles were ‘height climbers’ designed specifically for altitudes of up to 20,000 feet and able to even higher in the right conditions. The Camel worked well against earlier Zepplines but it never had good high altitude performance, and was fairly obsolete in any role by 1918, it was mainly used as a strafer. One of the better high flying Zeppelin killers as I recall was the De Havilland DH-4, and beyound that the newer and higher powered Sopwith Dolphin or Snipe or the two seater Bristol F.2 are all more likely options. Its not a big deal at all… but well it would be nice for WW1 to involve more then the Camel or Foker triplanes for once.

Ah. Thank you for the info. (I originally set it in 1917, but changed my mind so I could use more advanced weapons, like the Mark V** and Mark VIII tanks. I'll consider changing it back.)

Edit: I've made the change.

Rom ran up the rocky path, towards... He didn't know what fate waited upon Stol, nor could he explain the logic behind his actions, but it continued driving him towards the mountaintop. "Werner!" He stumbled, but his remaining arm extended to save him from a fall, and the young man resumed his ascent. "I hear you! I'm coming!"

"Rom!" Liena heard Rom call Werner's name, while Rom himself seemed deaf to her calls. Although she didn't have time to put on suitable footwear, the maiden ignored the pain in her feet and continued her pursuit, which seemed to last for hours; perhaps it did.

Mechanical noises heralded the end of Rom and Liena's pursuit. The young man and woman's heads rose to see three biplanes fly a circle around the mountaintop, scouting the von Stuhl lands. Iron Crosses, an insignia shared by the Imperial German Air Service and the Austro-Hungarian Imperial and Royal Aviation Troops, became visible as the aircraft descended.

Liena considered the possibility that Werner piloted one of the biplanes, and dismissed it. 'It's been a year; if Werner still lived, he'd have sent word to us.' Her eyes widened when she recognized one of the pilots. "Impossible! That can't be...!"

"Werner!" Rom, spellbound, watched the biplanes make an impossible attempt to land on the mountainside. One of them appeared to be a Fokker D.I fighter with a larger engine; the others he identified as variants of the Albatros D.III fighter. Then the biplanes underwent a metamorphosis, something the young man and woman never imagined was mechanically possible. The blood-red Fokker, the V.11 prototype of what would become the D.VII, split its tail, the two halves extending to form legs; the upper wings became detached from the lower wings, which laid themselves parallel to the fuselage to form arms, while the struts became talons; and the nose extended to reveal a head crowned with the propeller, the face fierce and indomitable. The leaf-green Albatros fighters, D.Va variants, retracted their lower wings, which were then folded perpendicular to the ground, while claws extended from the tips of the wings-turned-legs; the landing gear struts unfolded to form arms, each tipped with three claws; the propeller blades tilted forward, parallel to the driveshaft, before retracting into the propeller spinner; the nose extended to reveal a neck as the engine cowling split to form a mouth, full of triangular teeth that appeared sharp enough to cut metal.

The Fokker now resembled a Spartan hoplite, one of the 300 warriors whom King Leonidas led into battle against the million who served Xerxes the Great. The Albatros fighters now resembled dragons from medieval legend, or the dinosaur later generations would know as Deinonychus, "Terrible Claw." Despite the shocking sight, Rom and Liena's widened eyes were unable to overlook the human-sized figure that leapt out of the Fokker before its metamorphosis, a figure who stood tall before the young man and woman.

"Werner!" "Eldest brother? But how...?"

The figure before them, an Austro-Hungarian Army great coat wrapped around a medieval knight's armor, was indeed Rom and Liena's lost brother, but his eyes shined with an unnatural light that was devoid of the warmth Werner had when they last gazed upon his younger siblings. When Werner approached them, his strides were smooth but mechanical, like the pistons of a well serviced steam engine.

"Good evening, Rom, Liena." The coldness of Werner's voice froze his brother and sister. Sensing their apprehension, he said, "I have joined the army of Lord Cy-Kill, whose scouts brought me before him one year ago. Mechanical components have enhanced my mental abilities and strengthened my body, eliminating my human frailties so I may better serve him." That unnatural gaze turned to Rom's empty sleeve. "You are damaged. Accompany me to Zod, Lord Cy-Kill's ship, for repairs... please." The last word alone bore any trace of emotion, as if Werner didn't remember he was human before that moment.

The Fokker-turned-hoplite sensed Rom and Liena's eyes upon him. "I am Fightmaster, Lord Cy-Kill's second-in-command. The Cruellock drones," the Albatros-turned-dragons approached Werner's younger siblings, "will bring you before My Lord." Each drone grabbed a human with the roughness of machines ignorant of how fragile a human body was.

"Ahhhh!" "Eldest brother!" Rom and Liena were placed within the Albatros cockpits. Fightmaster and Werner leapt, the man-machine hybrid entering the Fokker cockpit as Fightmaster transformed in midair. The Cruellock drones followed their controller's example; then the biplanes rocketed into the sky, the onrushing air drowning out the humans' screams of terror.

A roar was heard by the manservant who gave Liena his coat. 'Thunder,' he thought, as knowledge of the sound barrier, supersonic speeds, and sonic boom was not yet widely disseminated. "Prepare two warm baths," the manservant said to a maid. "Master Rom and Mistress Galiena should not continue suffering from the rain when they return."

(Edit 18SEP2008: redesigned the Cruellock drones.)

Nick's superiors frequently questioned the young American during and after his convalescence period. As Nick himself was unsure of what he saw, the British officers proposed various theories on what brought down his and Captain Rutledge's aircraft-- debris-turned-missiles when the first Zeppelin exploded, machine gunners on the Zeppelin's upper surface, lightning, the rising sun blinding the pilots and causing a midair collision, and the possibility that the fog of war led Lieutenant Burns to mistakenly attack Captain Rutledge-- before rejecting them all. The most long-lived theory was one of the Zeppelins launched a "parasite fighter" that attacked the Camels from the rear, while the Allied pilots' attention were upon the airship-- the Royal Naval Air Service (RNAS) had plans to launch a Camel from a 23 class rigid airship-- but the Germans had no airfields within a fighter's range, and even they'd be reluctant to sacrifice one of their planes for two of the Allies'.

Months later, a doctor examined Nick, whose broken bones had mended, and cleared the young American for flight operations.

Nick entered a bar-- 'Pub,' he reminded himself of the differences between the American English and "English" English-- to hear fellow pilots say, "Hey, look who's back!" "Nick!" "Nicky Boy! Glad you made it!"

The young American smiled. "It's good to be back." He sat down before the bartender, and accepted several pats on the back. A pint of beer appeared before him. "We each downed one in Roy's honor, back when I was a mummy-- oomph!" a slap on his back emptied Nick's lungs.

The mustache of Captain Matthew Hunter-- "Matt" to his friends-- rose to reveal a toothy smile. "Now we'll down one in your not-an-honor." Matt emptied his own mug and let the alcohol cleanse him of his grief for friends lost during the past months; the others knew they'd lose more friends before the war ended, but were content to forget for one more night. "Ah." Then the smile disappeared behind an iron mask; the man Nick faced was now the ace known as "Mad Matt." "Who must die so we may avenge Roy?"

Nick sighed. "The damn thing is I don't really know. Roy and I attacked a Hun airship, and seconds after it became a fireball, another airship appeared out of nowhere. We pulled back the stick to avoid following Captain Nesterov's example," a reference to Russian pilot Pyotr Nesterov, who won the world's first air-to-air battle by ramming an Austro-Hungarian reconnaissance plane, killing the crew of both aircraft, "turned around, and..." Nick turned away and sipped his beer to buy time to find the "right words," an explanation acceptable to himself as well as his fellow American. "The second airship looked just like the first, only it had a purple snake's head painted on the side, but when we used our Vickers guns, I thought I saw our bullets bounce off its skin, as if it was armor plate. Then I saw-- thought I saw-- doors open upon the airship, and battleship guns rise from those doors, and..." He saw his face reflected in Matt's eyes, a mirror to his own soul. "What in hell is wrong with me? Why did I see something that flew out of a H. G. Wells or Jules Verne novel? Did I...? Am I deluding myself to...?"

Matt and the squadron leader had discussed the possibility that Nick mistook his commander's aircraft for an enemy one, and attacked it. "Morgan." The older American put some money on the counter. "Nick needs more fortification."

"No, I..." Nick's protest was ignored as the bartender filled another mug, which Matt pushed in front of him.

"Drink and put that airship out of your mind. Tomorrow's another day; live for it." Then the older American rose from his stool. "Good night."

Nick finished his first pint and began drinking the second one as he watched Matt exit the bar, but he was unable to forget the Zeppelin that metamorphosed a flying battleship; his instincts howled like a bloodhound catching the scent of blood, of the knowledge the battleship would return and bring Death's shadow to him.

"Rom."

The young man awoke to find himself upon a metal bed. An arm instinctively rose to shield his eyes from the lights. "Gasp!" It was his right arm, or rather, a metal prosthetic. The prosthetic hand gripped the edge of the bed to steady Rom-- he was shocked to learn the prosthetic retained his flesh-and-blood arm's sense of touch-- as he sat upright to see his brother, the armor now visible in all its glory, standing beside the bed. "Werner? How...?"

"Hackmesser, Lord Thunderwing's Military Intelligence Chief, has modified you into a man-machine hybrid, to better serve our lord."

The picture of a suit of armor, similar to Werner's, became visible with these words. The picture remained in the same place in Rom's field of vision, regardless of the direction in which his head was turned, and then disappeared; Rom later learned it was the head-up display (HUD) providing a status report on his mechanical components.

"Ahhhh!"

"Liena!" Rom jumped off the bed, but he underestimated his now mechanical legs' abilities. "Ow!" He landed on his feet, despite the distracting pain. Red lines appeared before his eyes, followed by the HUD, which reported his scalp was torn when it struck the ceiling, and a "NANOMACHINE" was repairing the damage.

"What have you done to...? Ahhhh!"

Rom ran to stop his sister's tormentor. "How dare you...?"

A shadow appeared before the newborn hybrid. "Halt."

"Ahhhh!" Electricity arced from Rom's armor as he knelt on the floor. The HUD read, "RANK: 08 OVERRIDE" as the shadow stepped into the light, revealing himself as a member of Cy-Kill's race; to the newborn hybrid, the mechanical life form appeared to be the bastard child of a Halberstadt CL.II fighter-bomber and a dragon.

Werner stepped between his brother and the dragon, and bowed. "Hackmesser, I beg you to forgive my brother's rash actions."

Hackmesser was an Utahraptor, a dinosaur from the same family as Deinonychus; this form was chosen because his analysis, performed with scanners able to penetrate rock and reveal fossils the human hands wouldn't uncover for generations, suggested these creatures were well adapted to this planet's environment. The Halberstadt's engine cowling split to say, "I forgive Rom, for his... love... for his sister is useful to Lord Thunderwing and I." With those words, Hackmesser rescinded the override and restored Rom's mobility.

Werner, an antiseptic swab in hand, took a knee to clean the blood off his brother's face. Rom pushed away his brother's hand, ignorant of the significance of Werner's actions, and stood tall before the Utahraptor.

Rom's angry gaze made crosshairs appear on Hackmesser; the HUD read, "R ARM: CHARGING 001%" and "L ARM: CHARGING 001%", numbers that rose as his reactor fed energy to the prosthetic arms' integral weapons. "What have you done to my sister?"

The Utahraptor stepped aside to let the hybrids see an armored figure in the fetal position, resting on a second bed. Water leaked between the fingers covering the figure's face, and dripped onto the bed; then Rom realized those were tears.

"Liena!" The young man ran to his sister's side. "Liena, are you hurt?!"

The hands parted to reveal eyes that shined with something other than tears-- something unnatural. "Rom, I... I'm not human anymore." Liena felt Rom's arms around her, and returned the embrace. "That monster... he amputated my arms and legs. Now I have death rays for arms-- arms that will never be able to cradle a child as I sing a lullaby-- and rocket motors for legs. I... I can no longer be a mother, nor have children of my own. Why...?"

Rom's anger burned at a degree that would boil metal if he released this emotion. "You..."

"Your lives will be more productive, now that the unnecessary systems have been removed and the weak ones, replaced. But if you insist living as a human-- weak, ignorant, and forced to spend much of a human's short lifespan on tasks necessary to sustain it, tasks I, a Cybertronian who has seen six million years of war, has no need for-- I will restore you to your original configuration," a screen appeared behind Hackmesser, displaying human organs preserved through a science later generations would know as cryogenics, "after you complete the mission Lord Thunderwing will assign you."

The newborn hybrids knew this promise was another the override code binding them to the Cybertronian's service, but they didn't see any way to break these bonds. "What do you want?" A door opened with a hiss to answer Rom's question.

A claw-tipped finger pointed at the door. "Your destiny awaits. And do not think of raising your laser pistols or power daggers against Lord Thunderwing; I spent considerable time and effort to repair and upgrade you, and if I learn you have wasted my time and effort, I will make you beg for your own death."

The crosshairs remained upon Hackmesser as Rom stepped back to let his sister rise from the bed. Liena gripped her brother's left forearm, drawing strength and courage from his presence, as the two marched through the door.

If Hackmesser had a human face, his brow would've curved into a frown as the door closed behind the newborn hybrids. 'Rom and Galiena von Stuhl are resisting their programming. This warrants further analysis.'

To the men fighting to control Cambrai, time didn't flow like a river or fly like a bird-- it bled from grievous injuries four years of war inflicted upon their minds, or it crashed like an avalanche to crush their hearts and all hope of survival.

The Spring Offensive of 1918 brought the German Army within 56 kilometers of Paris, and eight kilometers of Amiens, the city whose railway junction was an artery through which the Allies' lifeblood-- soldiers, weapons and other equipment, ammunition and other supplies-- flowed. Victory was within the Kaiser's grasp, but he also knew it was slipping out of reach, for each day brought more American soldiers and marines to the Allies' aid. The German government spent the bombs' weight in gold when Zeppelins, Gotha G.IV and G.V bombers were sent to attack the United Kingdom. A7V tanks attacked Allied positions, accompanied by Renault FT-17, Mark IV and Mark V tanks that were captured, marked with the Iron Cross, and sent into battle against their former owners. U-boats prowled the Atlantic Ocean, seeking undefended transport ships in an attempt to stop them from delivering vital reinforcements and supplies to the Allies.

First Lieutenant Nicholas Burns pushed the control stick to aim his biplane at what, to him, resembled a slice of Swiss cheese-- the no man's land between the Allied and German positions. A field of gray, the uniforms of German soldiers, filled the gunsight; then flames and smoke rose from the machine gun muzzles. The dying men's mouths opened, but the Sopwith Camel's engine drowned out their screams, to Nick's relief. As the biplane climbed away, a bat out of Hell, Nick's head turned to see if an enemy fighter decided to attack him while the young American was focused on the ground, but a blue-white light blinded him. "Ah!" 'My eyes!' Nick squinted; then the light was gone. 'What in hell?!'

It looked like a Camel with no pilot, a state that should've sent the agile but unstable fighter crashing into the ground. A snowstorm raged within the cockpit; then Nick's Doppelgänger appeared in its place.

Rat-at-at-at-at! Nick's surprise was followed by the sight of fireflies-- tracers from antiaircraft guns-- flying through his own biplane's wings. 'Jesus Christ!' Nick turned the Camel westward so he'd crash land within reach of Allied medics, but flames rose from the engine to burn away that hope. "Lord," Nick whispered before the smoke made him cough, "have mercy-- cough! If I-- cough! Failed to-- cough! Get right with you-- cough! Before..."

His restraints were cut; then a hand pulled him out of his seat. Nick watched the burning biplane crash, certain the pilot had no chance of survival. 'Am I dead?' He didn't see his own body being cremated in the Camel's cockpit. The young American turned to see... "Jesus Christ!"

"No, I'm Groove." The speaker resembled a medieval knight, but he shared an American man's devil-may-care attitude.

'He's like a Connecticut Yankee. Does that mean I'm in King Arthur's Court?' Nick thought, reminded of Mark Twain's novel. "Uh, thanks."

"I'm sorry about your aircraft; I didn't intend to illuminate it for those machine gunners' sake when I scanned the... It's a Sopwith Camel, right?"

"Yeah." Nick noted the gunners' weren't shooting at Groove. 'They're probably as stunned as I am. Hell, I still suspect I'm hallucinating or something.'

Groove put Nick on the ground. "Run along now." Then he jumped, metamorphosed in midair-- his arms spread to form a biplane's lower wings, his legs locked together and retracted to form a tail, and an engine cowling unfolded from his back to cover his head-- to become a Sopwith Camel, and rocketed out of sight.

As the human took cover before the enemy recovered from the strange sight, a Handley Page V/1500 heavy bomber-- a model whose prototype had yet to fly-- appeared alongside the Camel.

"Groove," the Handley Page began.

"I know we're supposed to remain disguised, but I couldn't fly by and leave the human die," the Camel answered.

"By revealing yourself, you may provoke a Renegade reaction. Do you actually think his life is worth that of the millions of humans who'll die in the crossfire between Cy-Kill and us?"

His commander's logic silenced Groove. 'Shock you, Hot Spot! How can you assign sentient life forms a numerical value, as if they're energon cubes, blind, deaf, and numb?'

Then Hot Spot, the Handley Page, asked, "Any sign of the Renegade scout?"

"Schuppenpanzer? He transformed when the Mark IV tanks came within sight of the A7V tanks; now I need active scanners to find him."

'Slag!' "Return to base." Hot Spot allowed no emotion, no anger and frustration, to be audible. The Handley Page turned towards the English Channel, followed by the Camel.

On the ground below, three A7V tanks were retreating after battle that saw a British Mark IV Male tank destroying one of the German tanks, along with much of its crew; the German crewmen concentrated on moving beyond the range of Allied artillery and air support, and didn't notice the destroyed tank accompanied them to the motor pool.

Schuppenpanzer, a Decepticon "Renegade" disguised as an A7V, replayed the scene of Groove saving Nick's life. 'An Autobot-- one of Hot Spot's "Guardians?" I must warn Lord Cy-Kill.' He maintained radio silence until the German tanks reached the motor pool, in case an electronic warfare specialist was monitoring transmissions.

(Edit 25SEP2008-- changed Groove's vehicle mode.)

The Decepticons were statues before the screens in Zod's bridge, observing the Second Battle of Cambrai with indifference-- as did Werner, to his younger siblings' surprise.

"Our German allies are dying; when they fall, Austria will fall. Don't you care about the Fatherland?" Rom demanded.

"No." Werner's emotionless tone shocked his brother; Rom couldn't be more surprised if Werner said he hated Austria with passion that led him to betray the Fatherland.

Rom stepped in front of Werner, put his hands on his brother's shoulders, and looked into the unnaturally shining eyes. "Did you lose the values our father instilled us-- patriotism, loyalty to the Dual Monarchy, duty to God, the Fatherland, and the people-- with your humanity?"

"Austria and the Austrians-- this planet and its native life forms-- are insignificant compared to the galaxy and the Decepticons, who'll conquer it and fulfill the prophecy of 'All are one' under Lord Cy-Kill's reign."

Rom remembered the pain he felt when the Decepticon officers used the override codes. 'A year-- is that how long it takes to break the human spirit? Is that how much time I have before I become a slave, like...? No; even slaves have a voice, if only to beg for mercy. I'm doomed to become a machine.' His time aboard Zod was spent thinking and becoming melancholic over these thoughts, such as the fact his new masters were cautious to avoid alerting enemies whose strengths matched those of Decepticons' awesome armor, weapons, and technology-- if Rom begged Cy-Kill to aid Austria and the Central Powers, those enemies would aid the Allies. '6,000,000 years of war... Will all life-- human life-- end with the War to End All Wars? Will the Fatherland-- will Earth itself be habitable after the last battle?'

The word "SCHUPPENPANZER" appeared above a scene within a scene of the battle. "Lord Cy-Kill, I have evidence of an Autobot presence on Earth." Schuppenpanzer's recording replaced the scene of German mechanics performing maintenance on their tanks.

The silver-rimmed titan remained motionless and emotionless, but his warriors-- including the hybrids-- sensed an anger that would vaporize anything and anyone in his path. "Hackmesser. Schuppenpanzer."

Two voices growled, "Yes, My Lord?"

"I order you to find the Autobot base and destroy it. I desire prisoners for interrogation, but I will understand and forgive you if the Autobots force you to destroy them all. Have the hybrids infiltrate the... human... armies and destroy any Autobot recruits among them. Report to me immediately if reinforcements or fire support are necessary."

"Yes, My Lord." The Military Intelligence Chief marched out of the bridge, followed by the hybrids, who knew the price of rebellion and disobedience.

Hackmesser now transformed into a Halberstadt CL.IV, which began to replace the CL.II in the Imperial German Air Service. Rom and Liena were surprised when the Decepticons proved to be more than machines by disguising themselves as the most advanced weapons systems on the planet, including prototypes under construction; the mechanical life forms were as vain as women who spent fortunes on the latest fashions.

The Halberstadt led two Albatros fighters to a forest. The hybrids leapt out of the cockpits as the biplanes transformed and landed between the trees; Liena marched towards the Allied lines, while Werner and Rom, disguised as German soldiers, marched to the motor pool.

The hybrids approached the A7V. "Report." The order came from Werner's mouth, but the voice was Hackmesser's. Rom shuddered to think the Military Intelligence Chief could use him and his siblings as proxies; he disguised his discomfort by rubbing his hands together, as if cold weather could affect the metal prosthetics.

"I detected emissions from sources the humans are currently incapable of producing; I believed the emission was an adaptation scan. Fortunately, I was already disguised when the scan began; I positioned myself among my templates to avoid detection, and used passive sensors. The scan illuminated an Allied aircraft, allowing German gunners to successfully engage it; the suspected Autobot, a Sopwith Camel, dropped his disguise to rescue the Allied pilot, and left, accompanied by a Handley Page O/400 variant, which I suspect is another Autobot," Schuppenpanzer stated.

Rom's integral computer searched it and Zod's records to answere whatever questions the hybrid had. 'Can the Decepticons also use my prosthetic nerves to control me by stimulating or suppressing my feelings-- emotional responses-- towards what I see?'

Werner's head turned to meet his brother's eyes. "Yes," he answered with his lasercom, a means of communication a third party cannot intercept; then he turned to the A7V. "If the Handley Page's size indicates the suspected Autobot's strength, I must summon reinforcements to neutralize him or her, but this risks revealing our location to the enemies," he said with Hackmesser's voice. "Have you found Megatron or the Nemesis?"

"Spectrum analysis indicates trace amounts of Cybertronian alloys in human artifacts, but I believe this is because the humans mistook the alloy samples for materials available on this planet, and recycled these samples for their primitive tools." Schuppenpanzer's answer incurred Hackmesser's anger; Rom could feel its heat across the distance between them.

"Then our caution is wasting our time. Come; I will seek Lord Cy-Kill's permission to perform an aerial or orbital search; if necessary, we'll strip away this planet's crust to find Megatron and the Light within him." The Halberstadt and the Albatros fighters appeared overhead. "Leave no witnesses." With those words, Hackmesser launched a 10-kilogram bomb while the Albatros fighters strafed the motor pool.

Rom watched Werner draw a MP18 machine pistol and target the nearest human. "No!" He reached for his brother's arm, only for the words "RANK: 08 OVERRIDE" to appear. "Ahhhh!" Rom shut his eyes in pain, but he still heard the German soldiers' screams over his own as Werner executed Hackmesser's order.

Schuppenpanzer drove by the hybrid lying on the ground, paralyzed by pain. "Eliminate your sympathy towards the weak, your ability to feel another's pain; strengthen yourself to relieve your own pain." Sickle blades extended from the A7V's sides; then the tank raced around the motor pool, the blades cutting down nearby humans as his machine guns killed those further away.

Minutes later, no humans drew breath at the German camp-- not even Rom, who knew he and his siblings could never again call themselves "human."

AJ stepped between the cots in the crowded field hospital, providing first aid to those she could help and comforting those she couldn't, whom she knew would die before the overworked doctors could reach them. 'I wonder if Nick...?' The nurse paused. 'Why did I...? Stop, AJ. Thinking about a soldier will only bring you heartache and depression when you learn of his death.' She noticed a raven-haired nurse-- a stranger-- stand before each patient, exchange words, and then marching to the next patient. The stranger turned to AJ as the nurse approached her and asked, "May I help you, Nurse...?"

"I am Liena," the disguised hybrid remembered Hackmesser's order to avoid detection, and gave "Gellert," her father's name, as her surname. "I am looking for the pilot of a Sopwith Camel, serial number B6402, which was shot down this morning."

AJ raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "If it happened just this morning, the records won't be available-- the bureaucrats can take days processing the casualties' names, and even then, we have several 'Unknown Warriors' buried nearby-- but I'll see if I can help. What's the pilot's name and rank?"

"I don't have that information, but I do have a description; the pilot is..."

AJ's eyes widened as Liena used the information she downloaded from Schuppenpanzer. "That sounds like," 'Nick,' "someone I know." Her legs felt weak, so AJ leaned against a wall to steady herself. "I don't think I saw him among those who," 'died or,' "were wounded today, but I'll inform you if I do."

Liena began to bow. "Thank you, Miss..."

AJ forced herself to smile. "Allison J. Foster."

Liena completed her bow. "Thank you, Miss Foster."

"So, what are you in for?" the ambulance driver asked with a smirk, as if the passenger beside him was a convict on the way to prison.

"I'm a pilot," Nick began. "I was doing my part to stop a Hun charge against the English; the Huns didn't like that, so they shot up my bird. Then..." 'Did I witness a miracle today?' the young American thought of the "angel" who saved him before changing into another Camel, like a caterpillar into a butterfly, and flying away. "I guess I can thank God for literally pulling me out of the fire."

"More money, more food, more women, and now the help of God Himself. You Yanks make me sick with envy," the driver said, a smirk hiding his bitterness.

Nick was no stranger to hidden emotions. "Hey, if you want to switch places and take a chance on a set of wooden wings, armored with linen and loaded with gas-- petrol-- and fly that motorized matchstick within range of Hun machine guns while I chauffeur the casualties..."

"Whoa, there! I got nothing against you Yanks getting the glory of being the tip of the spear. Gives us John Bulls a chance to become grandpas." The driver's smile brightened at the sight of a farmhouse, the field hospital. "We got here early," he affectionately patted the Ford Model T ambulance's dashboard, "thanks to this new steed. I've never had an engine run so smoothly before. One our boys are in good hands," a nurse approached the ambulance, "I'll take you to..."

"Excuse me, are you Nick Burns?" the raven-haired nurse asked.

"Yeah."

"I have an urgent message from your father," Liena lied. "Please come with..." She fell silent when Nick frowned in suspicion.

"My... father?"

'Did he too lose his father?' Liena shared Hackmesser's frustration that humans had yet to invent computers and computer networks through which such information could be filed and accessed from any location on Earth, even though she didn't know what a computer was until the device became part of her body. "I'm sorry, the message was from a man I assumed was your father, so great was his concern for you." The frown remained. "Please come with me." Liena walked towards the hospital, hoping the target would follow her.

Nurses, orderlies-- even patients who were mobile-- came to carry the casualties from the ambulance to the hospital; one of them approached the hybrid and asked, "Are you okay, Nurse Gellert?"

"Nick Burns has an urgent..." Liena felt AJ dab her cheeks with a handkerchief, and realized she was crying. 'Everyone here... the Decepticons will kill them to ensure their silence, except Mister Burns, who...' The hybrid fell on her knees, the implanted computer unable to suppress her grief for the humans' fate, and her remorse for her role in it.

AJ took a knee and spread her arms to embrace and comfort Liena. "It's okay, Nurse," a hand pulled her away from what she thought was a woman. "Ow!"

"Watch out!" Nick ignored AJ's protests and resistance as he pulled the nurse away from Liena.

"What are you...? Have you lost your mind, Lieutenant?!"

"Ahhhh!"

"Gasp!" "Oh Lord!" "Someone, help her!" "What in the name of God...?"

Compared to the guilt of what Hackmesser would make her do, the pain of the override was insignificant. Tears continued to flow down Liena's cheeks as the cloned skin covering her right forearm, burst to let a rail extend and place a laser pistol in her hand. "I'm sorry." Liena wished she was the target instead of AJ and the other humans, that death would release her from the tortured life of a half-machine monster, as the prosthetic finger squeezed the trigger.

(Edit 28SEP2008: revised dialogue.)

Boom! Flames shot from the underside of the Ford, launching it sideways towards Liena. 'The fuel...? No!' The hybrid turned and sent laser beams towards the ambulance's engine and fuel tank-- or rather, where they would be if it was a real Ford Model T. Metal arms-- shaped and proportioned like a man's, but too large to belong to one-- extended from the ambulance; the left reached into the cab to grab the stunned driver and lift him out of the "Ford," onto the ground, while the right reached for Liena.

"Take cover!" Nick received no protests from AJ as he pulled the nurse away from the... 'What in hell is that thing?!' the young American wondered as the ambulance metamorphosed into what, the humans felt, bore an unsettling resemblance to them.

"I should've known 'twas bad luck to drive on the Sabbath Day," the ambulance driver muttered as the Ford-turned-machine man turned to him.

Tools extended from the machine man's fingertips. "Please evacuate the area."

Liena shot at her captor without effect-- the lasers were designed to kill humans, not Cybertronians like her masters-- so she targeted Nick. "Release me, or," a microwave pulse, precisely targeting her cranial implants, began to shutdown her mechanical components. "No!" She fell unconscious.

"The, uh, human-machine hybrid," the tools reached under Liena's clothes, "may have," sparks shot from the hybrid's joints, burning holes in the nurse's uniform, "a self-destruct-- a bomb to prevent capture." The humans, too surprised to argue with the machine man, turned around and entered the hospital-- with two exceptions.

Nick noticed the machine man's chest now bore a burning red insignia, which was dark and hidden on the ambulance. 'I've seen it before.' He approached the machine man; AJ, alarmed, called his name, but the young American didn't notice this as he asked, "Are you one of Groove's compatriots?"

"Uh, yes. My name is Ratchet." 'Leader One won't be happy,' the Autobot thought of his acting commander's reaction to this incident. "There." Ratchet opened a hatch that led to his vehicle mode's passenger compartment, where he put Liena.

The sound of internal combustion engines interrupted them. Nick turned to see RFC insignia on German aircraft. "Uh, Ratchet, right? Can Groove or your fellow compatriots assume the form of Albatros biplanes?" He was surprised to see Ratchet's optics widen. 'His metal mask is as expressive as a human face.'

"Take cover!" Ratchet drew a metal instrument-- undoubtably a gun, despite its alien origin. Nick grabbed AJ and ran into the hospital as the Albatros fighters strafed the Autobot.

Ratchet and the Decepticon drones were armed with lasers, whose sounds the humans didn't recognize as that of weapons; the confused patients and nurses asked the running figures, "What's wrong?" and "What was that?"

"Air raid! Air raid!" Nick's warning sent the people rushing towards the wine cellar. The improvised air raid shelter was crowded-- wooden beams were added to reinforce the ceiling and walls, so the basement wouldn't become a tomb-- but Nick alone doubted the cellar offered shelter from the attacking "Germans." The American heard someone call his name, and turned to the speaker.

"Who or what was that walking ambulance?!" AJ demanded.

"He called himself Ratchet. Groove, one of his compatriots, saved my life this morning. I thought I was hallucinating when Groove... transformed... into a Sopwith Camel afterwards."

"Are those machine men your allies?"

Nick turned to hear the shriek of metal twisted and torn by great forces. "I don't know, but it seems Ratchet and Groove's enemies are of the same race-- machine men who've assumed the form of manmade vehicles."

A Cruellock drone's burning wreckage laid before Ratchet, but this brought him no comfort as he laid on his chest, his wrists caught in the front of a Mark V tank's track frames-- split to form scorpion-like claws-- his arms pulled backwards until they were perpendicular to the ground.

"Nice not to see you, Fangs," the medic mockingly greeted the Decepticon standing on his back. A metal boot flashed before him. "Ah!"

Fangs threw back his leonine head to laugh, revealing three rows of metal-cutting teeth, like the legendary manticore. "Heh heh heh heh heh!"

"I'm very happy to see you," Crasher's head turned to scan the area, before she took a knee to meet Ratchet's optics, "your ship out of sight, your comrades out of reach and unable to save you. We have a minimum of 20 minutes with which to torture you, or disassemble humans to torture your spark," the Cybertronian soul. The female Decepticon's hands half-closed into "leopard fists," as they were known to practitioners of Chinese martial arts; feline claws extend from the proximal phalanges. "We can make you beg for your own destruction." Crasher slowly, sadistically pushed the claws into Ratchet's forearm, just below Fangs' claw.

"Grrrr!" The medic's teeth clenched to deny the Decepticon the pleasure of hearing him scream.

"But if you confess your sins," Crasher pulled her claws downwards, "and having served the Autobots since the war's dawn, you're sins are great and many," four cuts reached from the wrist to Ratchet's elbow, "we'll be," the Amazon smiled, "merciful."

"I," the medic seemed to hyperventilate as his cooling systems struggled to prevent overheating in his electronics, "I'm..." Ratchet felt the claws burn as Crasher activated their cutting mechanisms. "Ahhhh!"

"Speak up," the Amazon growled.

"I... did not..."

A 112-pound (50.8 kg) bomb exploded upon Crasher's back, blowing the Amazon off her feet, away from Ratchet. "Shriek!" A second bomb struck Fangs' head, blinding and deafening the manticore. "Roarrrr!"

Ratchet smiled. "Come alone," he finished as an Airco DH.4 fighter-bomber launched a third bomb to behead the surviving Cruellock.

Fangs, now reliant upon the targeting optics of his claw-mounted 57-millimeter Maxim-Nordenfelt guns, tracked the bomb's flight path to the assailant's position-- or rather, where the Airco was, as the high explosive (HE) shells harmlessly detonated far behind the fighter-bomber. He didn't see the medic's legs sweep behind his, knocking the manticore off his feet. "Roarrrr!" Ratchet's maser fired microwave beams at Fangs' now vulnerable electronic brain, putting the manticore in stasis lock-- unconscious.

Crasher jumped to her feet with agility not expected of one so heavily armored. "Blades!" Ball lightning flew from her raised hands; the Airco looped and rolled to dodge these spheres of electrons, but they tracked the fighter-bomber with the skill of bloodhounds. One ball hit the Airco; the others immediately and simultaneously joined the first, covering the fighter-bomber with electrical burns.

"Ah!" Blades shed his disguise-- the Airco's lower wings became arms, the tail extended to become legs, the engine folded forwards to reveal the head-- to land, but the electrical damage unbalanced the Autobot warrior, sending him tumbling forwards. "You breach!" He recovered-- the tumble became a roll, putting him back on his feet-- and launched more bombs at Crasher.

Ball lightning struck the bombs, which exploded in midair. The Amazon's smile revealed metal-cutting teeth. "Is that the best...?" The first bomb breached her backplate; the barrel of a laser pistol reached into this hole, sending flames shooting from the back of her shoulders. "Shrieeeek!" Crasher's backhand sent Ratchet flying off his feet. "You," her integral fire extinguishers began smothering the flames, "must do better," nanomachines acted as platelets to flow towards the hole, self-destruct to fuse with each other, and seal the breach, "than that." Her hands burned blue-white, red-gold, and then yellow-green, the ball lightning changing colors as she stomped towards the Airco-turned-knight.

Blades smiled to know Crasher considered him a greater threat. "We can." He remotely detonated a bomb he fired into the ground during his fall, the bomb that Crasher-- ignoring one hole among those formed during the battle between Ratchet and her drones-- stepped over.

A pillar of fire rose between the Amazon's legs, launching her into the air. "Shrieeeek!" The fall should've put Crasher in stasis lock, but a Junkers J.I ground attack plane flew underneath her, the lower wings becoming arms to catch the Amazon.

57 mm guns roared, but instead of hitting the surprised Autobots, the HE shells cracked open the drones' heads and broke their spines; then the manticore's arms spread like wings as he rocketed away from his enemies.

Blades' attention turned from the retreating Decepticons to the drones' remains. "Can you salvage anything from their memory?" he asked of the drones' electronic brains.

Ratchet's head shook. "Fangs is an expert in destruction; I don't know how, but he knew what he was doing." He turned to the sound of internal combustion engines, not a simulation forming part of the Earth-based Cybertronians' disguise. "Allied forces are approaching; we should leave before more humans learn of our presence." The medic transformed. The warrior loaded the drones' wrecks into the ambulance, using a cargo net to attach the remains to the roof, before rocketing out of sight. The ambulance's holographic driver frowned in frustration as Ratchet, apparently stuck in the mud before the hospital, spun his tires to erase the Cybertronians' footprints; then Ratchet raced after Blades.

Neither Autobot noticed a Model 24 stick hand grenade lying on the ground, recording their activities. Four legs and two pincers extended from the grenade-- a disguised "spyder" or robot spy-- while the stick curled over the body like a scorpion's tail. The spyder crawled towards the trenches, where its master would retrieve it.

(Edit 21OCT2008: Revised fight scene, additional character.)

Werner's electromagnets let him stand upon the ceiling the hangar, watching his nervous brother pace around the room. "Liena will not come to any harm."

The comment made Rom's HUD project crosshairs onto Werner. "She's already come to harm-- Hackmesser turned her into a metal skeleton, a mechanical Angel of Death, whose hand in marriage will be sought by none but the damned and the insane-- can you imagine the scars this will leave on a woman's soul? How this has devastated Liena's hopes and dreams of a happy life and a loving family?"

Werner looked up at the hangar doors, hiding his expression from Rom. "Sirs Doomwing and Crasher are returning. Control your emotions... please... or they'll be overridden." Rom's gaze turned to the opening doors; he didn't see the tears falling from Werner's eyes.

"I'll kill Blades-- after I torture him until his frame and spark are no more than a dying flame upon his burning wreckage! Take his bomb launcher, shove it up his exhaust pipe, and pull the trigger until the fuses pop out of his mouth!" Crasher cursed as booster rockets carried her into the hangar.

Doomwing entered the hangar before dropping his disguise as a Junkers J.I. The upper wings became arms; the rudder remained in place as a "tail" while the rest of the rear fuselage split, the two halves extending to form legs; and the nose extended to reveal a neck as the engine cowling split to reveal a mouth.

'He resembles a werewolf or vampire.' Rom shuddered as Doomwing turned to him, as if the Decepticon read his mind. 'He's... smiling?'

Werner approached Doomwing, drawing the "werewolf's" attention. "I beg your pardon, Sir Doomwing. Where is Galiena?"

"Ratchet captured her," Crasher answered. "The Autobot," she searched her memory for an appropriate insult, "necrophiliac is probably disassembling your sister... and stimulating himself at the sight of her organic components." She knew mechanical life forms couldn't be described as sexual deviants-- a Cybertronian was "born" when a male and a female Cybertronian created copies of their core consciousness, merged these copies to create a new spark, and then downloaded this spark into a new body-- but it pleased her to see Rom burn with rage at the words.

"You abandoned my sister to this... mechanical Gilles de Rais?!" Rom felt Werner's hand upon his shoulder, and threw it off; he ignored his brother's plea to remain calm as energy flowed into his weapons.

The override codes were used, shutting down Rom's electromagnets. "Argh!" The hybrid somersaulted in midair to land on his feet, only to fall on his knees. "I will," Rom, resisting the paralyzing effects of pain, forced himself onto his feet, "no longer," an electric shock accompanied each step he took, "be," knowing the override safed his integral weapons and locked the setting, the hybrid prepared to attack Crasher with his bare hands, "your slave!"

Darkness fell upon Rom-- not a loss of consciousness, but an overwhelming sense of Doom, a vision of death and destruction that shattered the soul, until madness alone reigned over the broken pieces of his mind. "Ahhhh!"

Doomwing gazed upon the hybrid lying on the floor. "Hackmesser?"

"I will not allow my time and effort to be wasted. Do not damage his frame, but do as you wish to his spark-- disassemble his mind and rebuild it into a useful tool, firmly within our control," the Military Intelligence Chief transmitted from the bridge.

Werner stared at the man-machine hybrid lying "above" him, arms spread like Jesus on the cross as Doomwing's psychic powers tortured Rom. 'I'm sorry, my brother.' He knelt upon the ceiling and allowed himself to cry in sympathy.

(Edit 01OCT2008: Revised scene.)

The senses of sight, sound, smell, taste, and touch returned in degrees, like sand in an hourglass. Liena's eyes slowly opened to see a metal ceiling. She thought she heard a propeller spin, and turned to the sound.

Blades was spinning a bomb launcher around his right index finger. The warrior threw the weapon over his head, caught it by thrusting his left index finger into the trigger guard, spun it around that finger, and then threw it again. "Good morning, Princess," Blades said with a smile as the bomb launcher spun around his right index finger.

Liena tried to raise her hand, but it was magnetically locked onto her bed. "Are tigers so dangerous, you must use a weapon of that size?"

"Huh?"

"Your weapon-- it resembles a Howdah pistol from my father's collection. Hunters used these large-caliber firearms to defend themselves from the tigers of India." The young woman was surprised to hear Blades chuckle. 'The machine man seems so human-- more so than Werner since his return.'

"Compared to Crasher or Doomwing, a tiger seems as dangerous as a kitten."

"Good, you're online," Ratchet greeted as he entered the infirmary. "How do you feel?"

"I'm cold," 'and dead, a corpse waiting to be cremated.' Liena looked down to see her metal ribcage opened, a thick cable connecting her heart to the bed. "I feel incomplete," 'inhuman.'

"That may be due to the removal of your self-destruct and the slave circuits. If it's due to hunger, I must apologize for not providing carbohydrates-- food-- as our ship isn't provisioned to support organic life forms. Your fuel receptacles are connected to an energon cube, so your mechanical components are provided for," Ratchet cheerfully stated.

Liena noted the light shining on Ratchet and Blades' chests, forming an insignia the Cybertronians hid when they were disguised as human artifacts. "You're Autobots-- Lord Cy-Kill's enemies."

"Cy-Kill's no Lord of Gobotron, except to his loyal and delusional followers," Blades said. Planet Gobotron was the capital of the Outer Cybertronian Empire. "Slag," the warrior smirked, "the other Decepticons would put Hotspot on the Gobot throne before they put Cy-Kill there."

"Then..."

"Cy-Kill and his followers are renegades, enemies to Autobot and Decepticon alike." The speaker was a giant, even to fellow Cybertronians. He grippled a bomb launcher-- to Liena, the weapon resembled a Winchester Model 1897 shotgun from her father's collection-- ready to shoot the hybrid, even though this was overkill.

The hybrid searched her records on the Decepticons' enemies, identifying the giant as 'Hotspot, Leader One of the Gobot Guardians.' Liena watched Ratchet turn and salute the giant, while Blades continued playing with his weapon.

"Ratchet, I wish to speak with you," Hotspot said.

"Yes, Leader One." Ratchet followed his acting commander out of the infirmary.

Hotspot waited for the door to close behind the medic; even though Liena should be unable to eavesdrop, the giant cautiously used his lasercom to say, "I'm ordering you to remove the human from Courageous," the Autobot warship.

"What?! You can't! She's a human-machine hybrid! Until we can restore the organic components that Hackmesser removed, other humans will view her as a monster; she'll be hunted down and destroyed!"

"What you propose requires a supply of replacement parts. Courageous has no facilities capable of cloning the human, and the humans themselves have no storage facilities capable of preventing those parts from deteriorating, with the possible exception of morgues. Even if you can salvage a sufficient number of replacement parts from the morgues without drawing attention, we have no facilities capable of suppressing her immune system to prevent organ rejection." The Guardians' duty was to defend sentient life forms on Cybertronian colonies, including organic life forms; Hotspot could accurately assess the limitations of Liena's bodies.

"The Nebulons..."

"I will not abort the mission for the human's sake. Cy-Kill and his renegades are responsible for the deaths of 18,063 Cybertronians and an estimated 170,000,000 to 308,000,000 organic life forms on 24 different planets. If we don't stop him now, we'll share responsibility for the deaths of millions more."

Ratchet's mouth opened to continue arguing, only to cry in surprise as an explosion shook Courageous with such force, the medic's magnets failed to keep his feet on the metal floor. Static clouded his vision as he slammed against a wall; it cleared to show Hotspot's mouth moving, but seconds passed before Ratchet's hearing recovered.

"The Decepticons must have tracked the human to our location!" Hotspot shouted.

"Impossible! I removed both of her transponders!" Ratchet protested.

"Doomwing!" Then the Guardian leader ran to the bridge, leaving the medic to reconsider his dismissal of the supernatural.

Liena was alone in the infirmary, now that Blades was at his battle station; no one knew her torment, consumed by the darkness beyond a mere absence of light. "Please... kill me," she pleaded. "End the pain... let me join my fiancé... in heaven."

(Edit 03OCT2008: additional dialogue.)

I have no idea what you're doing with the Stol siblings but I do know that you've managed to misspell REINA every single time. :<

VF5SS wrote:I have no idea what you're doing with the Stol siblings but I do know that you've managed to misspell REINA every single time. :<

I KNOW the sister's name is spelled "Reina" (also transliterated as "Leina" in some sources, including the 'Machine Robo: Revenge of Chronos' articles in the Anime News Network and Wikipedia), but Reina/Leina is NOT a European name (I searched Baby Names for something appropriate, and Galiena was the closest I could find to the original). As for WHY I made the Stol siblings Europeans, the fact remains that the Asian front was NOWHERE as important as the European one during World War I. Besides, when I typed, "Stol" into Wikipedia's search engine, I found an article on a mountain straddling the border of Austria and Slovenia.

750-kilogram armor-piercing shells shrieked as Zod's 38-centimeter cannons electromagnetically launched them at Mach 30 (36,750 km/h at sea level), sufficient to reach the Autobot warship hidden beneath the Atlantic Ocean. Cy-Kill gazed at a holographic map of the target area, waiting for signs of Courageous' presence to appear and support Doomwing's scrying. Finally, oil floated to the surface; spectrum analysis confirmed the lubricant wasn't manmade. "Are we victorious?"

"I no longer sense Galiena's presence-- she may have died in the bombardment-- but I must urge caution, for the Autobot Guardians are intelligently led," the werewolf advised. "I keep a fractured backplate, a memento of the time Hotspot put himself in stasis lock to hide from my scrying, allowing him to launch a surprise attack."

"Even so, I doubt the survivors can effectively defend themselves after such a barrage," Cy-Kill confidently said. "Hackmesser, salvage the Autobot ship's active camouflage system. I want it analyzed, duplicated, and installed in the elite silencers," assassins.

"By your command," the spymaster transmitted as he watched a Cruellock, trailing a cable, dive from the hangar, followed by the rest of its squadron.

The Cruellock dropped like an anchor until it reached the target depth, when it transformed. "Target negative, target negative," not confirmed. "Request permission to use active sensors," the drone telegraphed to prevent eavesdropping.

"Granted." Hackmesser waited to see if the drone's active sensors triggered a mine or other booby traps. "What in the Pit...?"

It was an angel with red and white wings, a burning sword in each hand.

'No.' The spymaster noticed the "angel" bore Decepticon insignia. "You...!" The angel's mouth opened in a silent scream; then the swords passed through Hackmesser's body. "Ahhhh!"

"Howl!" Doomwing fell on all fours, giving voice to the psychic presence there.

"Doomwing, Hackmesser, what happened?" Cy-Kill demanded.

It was gone. The spymaster examined his body to see no signs of damage, while the werewolf rose to his feet.

"Starscream! He appeared before me, and..." Hackmesser fell silent as he sought a logical explanation for what happened.

"I too sensed Starscream's presence," Doomwing growled. "His spark... the bombardment aroused him from stasis lock. His frame... it's nearby, as are Megatron and the Light he bears."

Cy-Kill's optics widened. "If that is so, then who rules from the Crown of Stars?" the castle of Megatron, the Decepticon Commander-in-Chief.

"An imposter... one who cannot call upon the powers of Primus," whom the Cybertronians once worshipped as the Lord of Light and the God of Creation.

The silver titan smiled at the opportunity this presented. "Hackmesser, I am launching a shuttle with two escorts, which will be at your disposal while Zod and I move elsewhere. You will rendezvous at our location once you have recovered the Autobots' active camouflage system." 'The Nemesis-- the ranks of "Leader One" and "Prime," the Crown of Stars, and soon the entire galaxy-- are now within my reach.'

"By your command." The spymaster's booster rockets returned him to the battleship within seconds, followed by the drones.

(Edited 11OCT2008: Revised dialogue.)

Even in the dim light of the hangar, Major Matthew Hunter's guests couldn't be mistake the cause of his frown as pain from his injuries. "Let me see if I understand what you're saying. When the Germans archied your Camel," he pointed at Nick, "a mechanical angel pulled you out of your flaming bird, put you on the ground, and then metamorphosed into another Camel and flew away. Meanwhile, a woman-- not really a woman, but a metal skeleton from a H. G. Wells novel-- came to the hospital where you work," he pointed at AJ, "in search of Nick. When your ride," his attention returned to the younger man, "stopped at the hospital to drop off its other passengers, the machine woman became hysterical, and then electrical. A pistol, of unknown make and model, appeared in her hand; your ride metamorphosed from an ambulance to another machine man, and apprehended the machine woman; then the ambulance man's attention turned to a pair of Albatros biplanes, which you suspect are more machine men."

"I know this sounds crazy," Nick began.

"But our eyes bore witness to it," AJ finished.

"Is there any evidence to prove you didn't have an opium dream or a drunken delusion? A photograph, an iron rib, or a steel feather?" Matt watched Nick retrieved a triangular piece of metal from his coat pocket. 'A tooth?' A fragment of a propeller blade joined the Deinonychus tooth on the wooden crate, a makeshift table; Matt studied this fragment with interest. "Why would someone make a metal propeller, only to paint it to resemble a wooden one?"

"We think it's part of disguise," Nick answered.

"The Huns painted wood grain on a metal propeller to disguise an Albatros as a RFC bird?"

"They're not Germans; if Albatros or Zeppelin could build the things we saw, the Kaiser would never shut up about his new 'wonder weapons' in their propaganda," the younger man insisted.

"Martians? Selenites? Someone with enough Cavorite to lift a battleship off the ground?" the older man referred to H. G. Wells' 'The First Men in the Moon', in which a substance "opaque to gravitation" was invented and used to build a spaceship.

"They're Gobots, Cybertronians from the colony of Gobotron-- sentient machines with the ability to transform to improve their mobility or agility."

The humans' eyes widened at the sight of Nick's Doppelgänger, for no one saw him enter the hangar. 'Where in hell did he come from?!'

"I'm Streetwise. You," the Doppelgänger pointed at Nick, "owe my friend, Groove, a favor; now he needs you to return it. The Decepticons-- those disguised as Albatros biplanes are their servants-- have found the X that marks the spot, and we're trying to stop them before they find the treasure. If X is near a town or a city, it'll literally become a ghost town if the Decepticons detect us, so we're recruiting you as scouts or spies."

"How do we know you and your mechanical friends aren't here conquer Earth, enslave the human race, and drain our blood to feed yourselves, like the Martians in 'The War of the Worlds'?" Matt demanded.

"I'm not shooting up this place with my .30 caliber machine guns and 6-pounder guns and attempting to bend you to my will, am I? Besides, you two," the Doppelgänger pointed at Nick and AJ, "already witnessed Decepticon brutality-- the hybrid you," he pointed at Matt, "described as a metal skeleton? She was human; the Decepticon renegades' spymaster removed her brain and those organs couldn't be replaced with machines, and put them in the metal skeleton to enslave her. We can't do this to you because Courageous-- our ship-- isn't equipped to produce life-support systems for organic life forms, so even if we are planning to enslave the human race," the Doppelgänger smirked, "you're still better off on our side."

"If you're not an organic life form, what are you, anyways?" AJ asked.

"I'm right outside this building."

Matt rose to his feet, his right-- uninjured-- hand reaching for the Doppelgänger. "What kind of...?" His hands passed through the smirking figure before him. "Gasp!"

"This," the Doppelgänger pointed at himself, "is a hologram-- a projected image. The projector's installed in my body, which is outside this building."

"After all I've seen, I think I'm ready for whatever surprise you have." Nick walked outside, followed by AJ and Matt. "What in...?"

A Mark VIII tank and a Holt 15-ton artillery tractor were parked outside the hangar. "How in hell did those things get here?!" Matt demanded. Although the airfield was almost deserted, with many pilots on nighttime patrols and the rest asleep, the engine noises would've-- should've-- stirred the humans like a hornet's nest. "And that Liberty Tank," a Mark VIII tank with the Liberty L-12 engine. "The prototype's still in Connecticut-- still incomplete!" Then the vehicles transformed. The tank's rear half unfolded 180 degrees to reveal thighs, becoming legs; the front of the track frames separated from the main body, forming upper arms as the sponsons unfolded to form forearms; and a head extended from the front. The tractor's caterpillar tracks extended to form legs; the roof split, the two halves swinging down to form arms; the radiator unfolded 90 degrees to reveal the head. "Jesus Christ!"

"My name is Streetwise, not Jesus or Christ. This," the tank-turned-machine man pointed at the tractor-turned-machine man, "is First Aid."

"And who's that?" Matt asked, pointing behind the machine men.

Streetwise turned to a low hill behind them, which a Schneider CA1 tank was silently climbing. "Code red, code red!" The Autobot scout's warning was the only audible sound as his 6-pounder guns blazed; the shells made dull thuds as they exploded, which didn't awake the sleeping humans, accustomed as they were to the artillery duels raging miles away.

'They have mufflers or silencers of incredible capabilities-- that's why we didn't hear their approach,' Matt thought as First Aid grabbed him, Nick, and AJ.

'Good luck, Streetwise.' Then the medic put his compatriot's welfare out of his mind, now focused on bringing the humans-- and the info they had-- to Courageous. "Hang on!" First Aid put the humans on his back as he transformed, and then the tractor literally rocketed away-- the humans saw flames shoot from the rear bumper, the machine man's feet-- westwards.

Air rushed towards the humans at 223 kilometers per hour, comparable to the Galveston Hurricane of 1900; this tried the strength of the humans gripping the roof pillars. "Argh!" Matt's right hand slipped. "Matt!" Nick caught the older man's right forearm, but this strained the arm he wrapped around a pillar; this too began to slip. "Nick!" AJ's legs encircled the young man's torso, her thighs gripping his armpits.

(Edit 06OCT2008: revised sequence of events.)
(Edit 13OCT2008: revised dialogue.)

"Slag!" The humans couldn't hear First Aid curse, but they felt the tractor's frustration as vibrations, as if sledgehammers were striking the engine mounts; then the roof split to let them see two Albatros fighters diving, laser cannons and missile launchers extending from the disguised drones' backs.

The tractor left the ground. First Aid transformed in midair, his left hand catching the humans as his right drew a fire ax. "Yaaaa!" The medic used his frame to shield the humans from the incoming laser beams and mini-missiles, which scorched and pitted his armor, and buried the ax in a Deinonychus' neck; First Aid kicked the drone's severed head, sending it towards the second drone and shattering this drone's upper wings.

Then the unseen third drone's claws stabbed the medic in the back.

"Argh!" First Aid managed to land on his feet and avoid crushing the humans, despite the burning pain; the Cruellock managed to stay on his back, despite the shock of impact, and buried its teeth in the medic's helmet before its neck strained to tear off First Aid's head. "No! The humans...!" He threw the ax.

The message was understood; the medic's "guardian angel" caught the weapon, advanced to hand-to-hand combat distance, and then buried the ax in the drone's head.

"Slave circuits!"

Another blow shattered the drone's spine and destroyed the slave circuits it shielded; the savior returned the ax before turning his back to the medic. "First Aid, are you functional?" Groove asked as he scanned the terrain through his gunsight.

The medic's attention turned to the stunned humans in his hand. "Are you functional?"

Matt, Nick, and AJ examined their own bodies, and then each other, before their eyes rose to meet First Aid's. "I'm alive. Nick?" "I'm still in one piece. Nurse Foster?" "W-w-was that n-necessary?" Sparks flew over the humans' heads as a missile struck the metal hand shielding them. "Gasp!" "Yikes!"

"Yes," First Aid answered through clenched teeth, the medic exchanging the ax for his laser pistol. Groove, airborne again, tracked the missile flight path to the enemy sniper, and then both Autobots shot in the same direction.

(Edited 11OCT2008: Replaced a certain character in this scene.)