Mr Zoat
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With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Thread Fourteen)
- Thread starter Mr Zoat
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- self insert young justice
NightmareWarden
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Honestly, I was hoping the comics would slide in a line about the Colors being motivations rather than emotions... But hey, what kind of sane person expects a company to make the appropriate decision?
Ardy
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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You know who could be a big help dealing with all this magic stuff….
Codominion (part 11)
Mr Zoat
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15th April 2013
18:25 GMT -5
"Nothing at all?"
Ma'alefa'ak shrugs first with his left shoulder and then with his right. "My reserve and a handful of others like it contain all of the surface plant life on M'arzz. If any of us had seen an unexpected surge of growth it would have been reported."
He's right. With a planet of telepaths, it's not easy to keep anything a secret. Certainly, a group of aliens popping by would attract more than a little notice, and unless they were shielding their thoughts really well…
The Dominion probably has the technology to do that, but I'm not sure that they have the technology to avoid detection by the telekinetic spines built by Mother of Mercy and maintained by the locals. They're actually making an effort to accelerate their atmospheric restoration by grabbing asteroids and harvesting them for useful gasses. Might be worth keeping half an eye out for recruits...
For a moment I consider Ma'alefa'ak himself. He's completely devoted to the project, but… I don't think that his evil alter-ego is a concern. He doesn't want to go back to being that, and he's not really more vulnerable to mind control than anyone else. But whatever the Martian judicial system did to who he was to make him who he is now disrupted his connection to the orange light. I… Could fix it, but… I know that it's possible to store part of yourself in the orange light, because I did that to recover from my second death.
I just can't take the risk with him.
"And private gardens?"
"We don't have privacy in the way that humans do. Someone would have reacted."
I look out across his nature reserve. A lot of the systems he used to create enclosures the first time we came here have gone, and I can see… Five? Of the giant telekinetic spines that Mother of Mercy created erupting from the ground and rising up out of the thickening atmosphere. The main difference is that there are plants around the place, not just in neatly planted allotments but as weeds anywhere their seeds can find soil. Which is nice, but suggests that alien plant magic researchers now have a lot more places where they could work.
I turn back to him with a nod. "Do isolated caverns have the same setup?"
"Any that have people living in them do, yes. Since… M'gee's revelation, a lot of caverns which didn't have anyone living in them have been settled by new communities."
"By Whites?"
"Usually, though not necessarily. And… It's not always Whites who are resisting their third class citizen treatment. One of the new communities formed with a more formal caste structure, and enough Whites wanted to be a part of it to make it viable."
"Couldn't they just live in an existing city?"
"They felt that the uncertainty harmed the soul, and they wanted a tightly defined legal code setting out the rights and responsibilities of each caste. Not something that could change." He considers me for a moment. "I expect that you're disappointed-."
"No, no… It would be unrealistic to expect everyone to embrace the anti-colourist movement in the way I'd like them too. And… I generally think that the problem with caste systems is that there's usually not much of a mechanism to enforce the rules against the upper castes. Maybe it works with telepathy."
"Usually. Sometimes it makes it worse."
"We have a saying on Earth: you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink. We gave them the option. If they're happy living like that then they're happy."
The Mars situation is chaotic, but… Mostly peaceful and mostly stable. The Manhunters are very visibly limiting themselves to light-touch policing of demonstrations and… Prelate J'emm is making a point of spending time in places mostly frequented by Whites. And because of telepathy, they know why he's there so it doesn't come off as condescending, and because he's not elected it doesn't look like electioneering. I'm reasonably hopeful about the whole situation and since the surface is now habitable, anyone who isn't happy has the space to move away and do their own thing.
"How are the priesthood handling things?"
"I have no idea. I haven't even seen one for years. There have been no announcements that have reached me, and I have been getting a few more visitors than I used to." He thinks for a moment. "You want to check with them?"
"Belts and braces. They're the only people who can do magic on Mars, and as far as I can tell your people have a tighter grip on who is allowed to learn magic than we do on Earth. If they haven't noticed anything odd then there probably isn't anything odd happening." I give the reservation a quick scan. All appears to be in good order. "Is there anything you need here?"
"No, I'm more than content. Thank you. And please thank Mother of Mercy for me when you see her."
I nod. "Will do. Thank you for your help."
I
step out, appearing
next to Bleez's ship as she takes in the closest spine. We're high enough up here that she needs to be inside the ship, and if her insurance company wasn't happy with her exposing herself to Earth's environment then I imagine that Mars would give them a stroke.
"Like it?"
"It's so… Alien. Your species are… Thanagarians without wings and your architecture is like Thanagarian architecture but flattened. This is… Completely other."
"You should have seen the Lantern who built it. That was a… Hopeful time. If you ask, the locals could probably share their memories of it."
"What's their music like?"
"I… Have no idea, actually. I only really come here on business, and M'gann's always been more interested in human music. If you're interested, I'm heading to Mel'dilo'rn now. Do you want to come along, or keep taking the place in?"
"I… How safe is it?"
"Not safe against an attack by an entire Lantern Corps. I'd bet on a couple of Manhunters or a Sorcerer Priest against an average quality Lantern."
"And was he..? 'Average quality'?"
"I don't know. I'd have to see him myself, and I imagine that Sinestro is intelligent enough to move him away from Sector Two Six Eight Two. I can go and have a look once this case is over, if you like?"
"I'm not in any hurry to get back." Her ship tilts forwards, beginning to descend in a spiral pattern around the spine. "I'll come with you. What's the dress code?"
"Well, they're telepathic shapeshifters, so there isn't one. Do you have any training in resisting telepathic intrusion?"
"Only in noticing that it's happening and getting away. How deep do they go?"
"Usually, not that deep, but they'll be getting everything on the surface pretty much all the time. If you focus on what you're interested in then it shouldn't be a problem; they're used to aliens and young children not being able to regulate what they think."
"I'm going to write a song about this… But I've got no idea what it's going to sound like."
"Then you can surprise us both."
18:25 GMT -5
"Nothing at all?"
Ma'alefa'ak shrugs first with his left shoulder and then with his right. "My reserve and a handful of others like it contain all of the surface plant life on M'arzz. If any of us had seen an unexpected surge of growth it would have been reported."
He's right. With a planet of telepaths, it's not easy to keep anything a secret. Certainly, a group of aliens popping by would attract more than a little notice, and unless they were shielding their thoughts really well…
The Dominion probably has the technology to do that, but I'm not sure that they have the technology to avoid detection by the telekinetic spines built by Mother of Mercy and maintained by the locals. They're actually making an effort to accelerate their atmospheric restoration by grabbing asteroids and harvesting them for useful gasses. Might be worth keeping half an eye out for recruits...
For a moment I consider Ma'alefa'ak himself. He's completely devoted to the project, but… I don't think that his evil alter-ego is a concern. He doesn't want to go back to being that, and he's not really more vulnerable to mind control than anyone else. But whatever the Martian judicial system did to who he was to make him who he is now disrupted his connection to the orange light. I… Could fix it, but… I know that it's possible to store part of yourself in the orange light, because I did that to recover from my second death.
I just can't take the risk with him.
"And private gardens?"
"We don't have privacy in the way that humans do. Someone would have reacted."
I look out across his nature reserve. A lot of the systems he used to create enclosures the first time we came here have gone, and I can see… Five? Of the giant telekinetic spines that Mother of Mercy created erupting from the ground and rising up out of the thickening atmosphere. The main difference is that there are plants around the place, not just in neatly planted allotments but as weeds anywhere their seeds can find soil. Which is nice, but suggests that alien plant magic researchers now have a lot more places where they could work.
I turn back to him with a nod. "Do isolated caverns have the same setup?"
"Any that have people living in them do, yes. Since… M'gee's revelation, a lot of caverns which didn't have anyone living in them have been settled by new communities."
"By Whites?"
"Usually, though not necessarily. And… It's not always Whites who are resisting their third class citizen treatment. One of the new communities formed with a more formal caste structure, and enough Whites wanted to be a part of it to make it viable."
"Couldn't they just live in an existing city?"
"They felt that the uncertainty harmed the soul, and they wanted a tightly defined legal code setting out the rights and responsibilities of each caste. Not something that could change." He considers me for a moment. "I expect that you're disappointed-."
"No, no… It would be unrealistic to expect everyone to embrace the anti-colourist movement in the way I'd like them too. And… I generally think that the problem with caste systems is that there's usually not much of a mechanism to enforce the rules against the upper castes. Maybe it works with telepathy."
"Usually. Sometimes it makes it worse."
"We have a saying on Earth: you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink. We gave them the option. If they're happy living like that then they're happy."
The Mars situation is chaotic, but… Mostly peaceful and mostly stable. The Manhunters are very visibly limiting themselves to light-touch policing of demonstrations and… Prelate J'emm is making a point of spending time in places mostly frequented by Whites. And because of telepathy, they know why he's there so it doesn't come off as condescending, and because he's not elected it doesn't look like electioneering. I'm reasonably hopeful about the whole situation and since the surface is now habitable, anyone who isn't happy has the space to move away and do their own thing.
"How are the priesthood handling things?"
"I have no idea. I haven't even seen one for years. There have been no announcements that have reached me, and I have been getting a few more visitors than I used to." He thinks for a moment. "You want to check with them?"
"Belts and braces. They're the only people who can do magic on Mars, and as far as I can tell your people have a tighter grip on who is allowed to learn magic than we do on Earth. If they haven't noticed anything odd then there probably isn't anything odd happening." I give the reservation a quick scan. All appears to be in good order. "Is there anything you need here?"
"No, I'm more than content. Thank you. And please thank Mother of Mercy for me when you see her."
I nod. "Will do. Thank you for your help."
I
step out, appearing
next to Bleez's ship as she takes in the closest spine. We're high enough up here that she needs to be inside the ship, and if her insurance company wasn't happy with her exposing herself to Earth's environment then I imagine that Mars would give them a stroke.
"Like it?"
"It's so… Alien. Your species are… Thanagarians without wings and your architecture is like Thanagarian architecture but flattened. This is… Completely other."
"You should have seen the Lantern who built it. That was a… Hopeful time. If you ask, the locals could probably share their memories of it."
"What's their music like?"
"I… Have no idea, actually. I only really come here on business, and M'gann's always been more interested in human music. If you're interested, I'm heading to Mel'dilo'rn now. Do you want to come along, or keep taking the place in?"
"I… How safe is it?"
"Not safe against an attack by an entire Lantern Corps. I'd bet on a couple of Manhunters or a Sorcerer Priest against an average quality Lantern."
"And was he..? 'Average quality'?"
"I don't know. I'd have to see him myself, and I imagine that Sinestro is intelligent enough to move him away from Sector Two Six Eight Two. I can go and have a look once this case is over, if you like?"
"I'm not in any hurry to get back." Her ship tilts forwards, beginning to descend in a spiral pattern around the spine. "I'll come with you. What's the dress code?"
"Well, they're telepathic shapeshifters, so there isn't one. Do you have any training in resisting telepathic intrusion?"
"Only in noticing that it's happening and getting away. How deep do they go?"
"Usually, not that deep, but they'll be getting everything on the surface pretty much all the time. If you focus on what you're interested in then it shouldn't be a problem; they're used to aliens and young children not being able to regulate what they think."
"I'm going to write a song about this… But I've got no idea what it's going to sound like."
"Then you can surprise us both."
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Darko
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Second one should be "spines"
"Whites"
Yeah, I'm guessing there are Greens and maybe Reds that have White friends, family, lovers, or just view the whole thing as wrong.
So it just continues.
Yeah, I'm not sure if it was in this story or in another one, but I think it was mentioned that Martians regularly and accident brainwash themselves into maintaining the caste.
If he's not on Mars then he's probably on either J or Alstair.
Chojin Patriarch
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Interesting choice of first contact on this matter, but if he's got one of the largest collections of existing plant life, it makes sense to check if Swamp Thing or Gumbo Man haven't been by.
And I suspect living long-term under psionic cloaking shields would be deleterious to any species' mental health, not just a Martian's.
Best not to mess with him, in case you break something, then.
Bit hard when everyone can fly up to have a look at something unusual.
So things are getting wilder. Honestly, they're going to have a lot of consideration ahead in how they re-plant the biosphere. Some probably want organised areas, others like Mal will let them grow wild...
Heh. People starting to spread out a little for privacy and freedom, eh?
Huh. I guess some people still like the old ways.
Eh, if it's an honest desire for stability, then he'd be fine with it.
And some honestly might be against the whole colour-mixing thing. You never know how people are going to react.
I suppose telepathy can cut through a lot of political bullshittery like that. And the ability to just move away is probably letting a lot of tension out of the real boiling-hot spots.
Well, at least he isn't being left alone out here.
I wonder how that idiom even translates, given the lack of actual clothing Martians wear. Then again, Mal can probably get the context from his surface thoughts.
I'm sure she'll appreciate the note of thanks.
Especially since the atmosphere is still reforming. I expect it's still a lot thinner than Earth's, and will be for some time to come.
Yes, rather refreshing when you get to see something truly foreign. As long as you can curb any xenophobic instincts.
...That's actually a good question. Would their songs have a telepathic element? I imagine they pitch things differently to compensate for thinner atmosphere. Would they even use instruments, or merely shapeshift parts of their body to suit?
You know how strong M'Gann is, right? Imagine an entire race as powerful as her, or more so, with the possible exception on psychically.
...That is another good question. Did we ever see him in action in the comics, or was all the action off-screen in Bleez's origin?
Of course, if the guy is insane enough to go back to her world against orders, well... He won't be an issue any longer than that.
And wearing a psionic shield would be kind of rude. Oh well...
And if nothing else, her exotic looks, including the wings, will probably start a fashion trend for a while.
So, a dead end so far on Mars. Not surprising, as Swampie's space odyssey went a lot further afield. Wonder if he can narrow down the techno-organic planet against the Guardian's database and maybe catch up before the biosphere gets a little too frisky with Swampie... In the meantime, we get to see a little more about the Martian planet-forming efforts and their cultural revolution.
Double Space.
Vaermina
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What Asteroids?
It takes their ships months to get to Earth, which means it would take them months to get to the asteroid belt.
Mr Zoat
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Thank you, corrected.
Thundersmight94
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Mother of Mercy could be using her planets gravity & orbit and orange ring to pull asteroids towards mars.
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Steelplaza
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It seems like this would also be a good opportunity to request aid for Earth on a planet-to-planet level.
Vaermina
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She's not there anymore, and hasn't been for some time.
Ardy
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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….have you heard of the Mars-Jupiter asteroid belt? If not then it provides evidence for you accidentally reading the wrong story for the last decade
RoninSword
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Not sure if this is a typo or not.
Odysseus2099
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His point was that the Mars-Jupiter asteroid belt is significantly farther away from Mars than Earth is. Therefore dragging in asteroids would take months if the speed was remotely comparable to the Martian's ships. (Also this implies that if the Telekinetic Spines are long range enough to affect the asteroid belt they could be used to remotely flatten any city on earth.)
...Maybe MoM could have gotten some asteroids moving when she was here and the Martians have been using the Telekinetic Spines to slow them down and capture them rather than accelerating new ones?
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Darko
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I don't think Mars would be of much help.
They probably don't have enough of a sustainable environment to grow food, and Martian food may not be safe for humans.
And for them telepathically helping humans deal with grief, well firstly there probably aren't enough of them trained for that and secondly, a lot of humans may not want to have another person going inside their head after Anti-Life.
Darko
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I think you may have imagined it.
I think I remember renegade Artemis using her powers to help renegade travel to space when they were stuck in the future, but that's it.
Someguy Somewhere
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I vaguely recall her discussing the shot she took in the Sheeda Future when she visited the ponies the first time, and was asked not to repeat it, as they are rather fond of theirs.
There was some talk of bucking and adult soda?
EDIT: Back here, and the later updates with the Arrow markers are from Artemis's POV
https://forum.questionablequesting....young-justice-si-story-only.8961/post-3840647
There was some talk of bucking and adult soda?
EDIT: Back here, and the later updates with the Arrow markers are from Artemis's POV
https://forum.questionablequesting....young-justice-si-story-only.8961/post-3840647
Last edited:
Mr Zoat
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No, pet name.
The Martians aren't using the spines to grab asteroids in the asteroid belt from where they are. They're using them to grab smaller and closer rocks, or upgrading their ships with the technology and sending them out.
Meet The Eye (part 1)
Mr Zoat
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14th June 2014
03:23 GMT
"I-I can't believe this." Next to me, Slipstream twitches. It's a little disconcerting to watch, as rather than twitching her muscles it's like she's starting to transform and then reversing it after about half a second. It makes her look like she's starting to fall apart. I'd be worried if not for the intense hope and joy I'm feeling through our bond. "I didn't think they'd ever-. I didn't think I'd ever-."
I look around, actually having to look down in order to make sure that I'm not missing something. I'm used to being taller than most humans around me, but being taller than most transformers is still new.
No, no one else around.
My 'Pull' body responds appropriately, the mind impulse unit turning my neural activity into giant robot motion. I haven't asked if Shockwave just happened to have a transtector body laying around or if he built it from scratch, but from the way Kyansa has described every piece of open-chassis chirurgery Shockwave has done as 'wicked cool' I'm not sure I'd like the answer either way.
"Why not? They said that they would."
I've been acting like 'Pull' is someone distinct from me, as Decepticons aren't exactly friendly to other species and we're still recruiting for our eventual exploration team. Having someone big and strong around encourages other Decepticons to not try leaning on Slipstream, while having 'him' be a bit mentally slow prevents him seeming threatening in other situations. My new body is painted in dull brown and transforms into a heavy goods transport vehicle: not bright enough or unusual enough to draw the eye, but visible enough not to surprise someone in the dark. I'm supposed to be able to fit in with a crowd, and it seems to have worked so far.
Slipstream glances down towards my feet, remembers that I'm not that short any more and then looks up at Pull's face.
"Because you know the ratio! They hardly ever resurrect Decepticons. Particularly late-War Decepticons."
Something which was generating a degree of ill-feeling, though most Decepticons weren't really expecting their friends back in any case and the few who got them back were too grudgingly grateful to make a fuss about it. It wasn't until the newly returned Emirate Xeon pointed out the huge advantage that the Autobots were getting and the potential threat it posed that there was any sort of organised outrage. Relations between the two returning factions were getting dicey until Megatron came back from… Wherever he went, and negotiated with the Autobot Provisional Council for better access.
"Sometimes knowing the right people helps."
Because while Prime's old team don't like us, they do recognise that we're not a threat to the truce. And if they're going to resurrect anyone on the Decepticon side-
"I can't believe they even found her!"
-it would be someone with a good social support network away from Cybertron. The Autobots have been carrying out recovery operations all over Cybertron and near-Cybertron space so I don't know exactly where they found Nova Storm's mortal remains or how those remains managed to avoid being infected with Dark Energon and turned into a Terrorcon, but I'm certainly not going to complain-
My auditory sensors pick up the sound of someone trudging nearby.
-about it.
Slipstream hears it too and immediately goes into hunt mode. Not a lot of transformers live this far from the newly built synthetic energon refineries, which isn't an issue for us as we mostly use energon shipped in from Earth. It's mostly just anti-social loners and-.
Ahead of me, Slipstream turns a corner with weapons drawn, then immediately lowers them.
"Hey Munition. You get beat up again?"
I trudge after her, careful to dim my eyes as I get a clear view of one of the local vagrants. Munition is a dull grey tank transformer who's been dossing in the area. I'm not exactly sure what he did before or during the war, but these days he spends his time preaching his particular variant of the pre-War Decepticon creed to anyone with the patience to put up with him. And with Decepticons increasingly rallying around Xeon and Megatron, that's increasingly fewer people.
This time he got off lightly. A few of his panels are dented, but there doesn't appear to be any serious damage.
"I did. But the Truth will not be silenced! We should not be defined by our brands any more than we should be by our alt-modes! Xeon rallies people with an outdated fear, which only-"
Slipstream waves a flask of energon in front of his face.
"-serves to separate us from those who-!" He focuses on what's in front of him. "Oh. Thank you."
"It's not that I don't agree, Munition." Slipstream takes a relaxed posture as Munition takes a gulp from the flask before connecting it to the emergency damage port on his badly dented right arm. That feeds it directly to his local self-repair system, a modification that a lot of heavy infantry Decepticons have made. "It's that if you keep going then Xeon is going to have someone kill you."
"Oh, I'm not worth his time. Besides." He looks down at where his battered copy of Towards Peace is chained to his waist. "I imagine that a recording of his limb-wrenchers shooting through that would do more damage than a street preacher no one listens to."
I rotate my head slightly, checking the street behind him for pursuit. "I listen."
Which mostly involves standing there and staring at anyone who looks like they're about to move from political disputation to 'political disputation'. Decepticons might have settled their disagreements peacefully once upon a time, but that was a long time ago. It's interesting, but without Slipstream to explain things I miss the context for about ninety percent of it.
Slipstream looks up and me, rolling her eyes at 'Pull's' foolishness. Munition detaches the flask and passes it back to her before checking the movement in his damaged arm. Looks alright to my inexpert eyes, and I can see the panelling start straightening out as his repair system gets to work.
"Thank you. I think I should spend some time working on my delivery. Where are you two going?"
Slipstream considers, but… While I think Munition is pretty trustworthy, I didn't spend a million years at war. "Recruiting, hopefully. An old friend I got separated from. I think she'll like Earth."
Munition nods. "I'm glad to hear it. Give her my regards."
"I-." Slipstream's arm pings with the 'ready' signal, and she immediately sends the 'acknowledge' reply.
Phh-tchhwuhwuhwah.
The ground bridge opens and Slipstream sprints towards it, despite knowing that they're not going to close it on her. I hesitate, watching her go for a moment and then striding after her just as she disappears on the far side. Pull's body isn't really made for running, and while I can transform like this it feels really weird. Besides, it's not like it takes long. Maybe twenty seconds pass and then I appear in the workshop where Ratchet is finishing reassembling Nova Storm's body to the best of his ability while Slipstream lurks at his side, staring at the face of the friend she thought she'd never see again. There are a lot of rooms like this, because while they can supply The Last Autobot with energon he has a throughput limit and the more power he has to spend on repairs during the resurrection process the fewer transformers he can resurrect.
This place has to have its own energon refinery to keep him going anyway. And a ground bridge jammer to stop people bridging inside and demanding or begging that their friend or team mate be brought back first. Or that they be allowed to watch for theological reasons. Or attacking to try and stop it.
Ratchet straightens up, clearly not entirely satisfied but without anything else to really do. Slipstream gets closer, standing next to Nova Storm's left shoulder. Aside from Nova Storm's lighter colour and a slight difference in the structure of her face, they look pretty much identical.
"She was quite badly damaged when we recovered her. I couldn't access her t-cog's records, so I used my record of your internal structures as a guide to her layout."
"Nova."
The ground bridge collapses behind me and… Ah, Ratchet knows who I am. "What will she remember?"
"Going by past experience, almost everything. The actual events of her death should be a little blurry, but she might remember it once she gets over the shock. I suggest several weeks of rest at the very least." He turns his head to look at the heavy doors at one end of the room. "He should-."
The colossal doors slam open at the far end of the room and The Last Autobot walks through, right hand raised towards Nova Storm's recumbent body. And in that moment I suddenly gain a new appreciation of exactly how big he is. When you're human, all transformers tower over you so he didn't really stand out; I didn't really notice that most of the transformers I know are about as tall as his head. He doesn't look around as yellow energy crackles around his right hand, then flows over Nova Storm's body. He keeps walking as she suddenly sits up, eyes focusing and hands grabbing at her chest as Slipstream hugs her. And then he lowers his hand as he exits through the door at the far end of the room, into a room where for a moment I see another bier, another medical and another hopeful transformer waiting for the return of the departed.
After assuring herself that her torso is in one piece, Nova Storm moves her hands to return Slipstream's hug. "Hey, Slippy. What in the Pit just happened?"
03:23 GMT
"I-I can't believe this." Next to me, Slipstream twitches. It's a little disconcerting to watch, as rather than twitching her muscles it's like she's starting to transform and then reversing it after about half a second. It makes her look like she's starting to fall apart. I'd be worried if not for the intense hope and joy I'm feeling through our bond. "I didn't think they'd ever-. I didn't think I'd ever-."
I look around, actually having to look down in order to make sure that I'm not missing something. I'm used to being taller than most humans around me, but being taller than most transformers is still new.
No, no one else around.
My 'Pull' body responds appropriately, the mind impulse unit turning my neural activity into giant robot motion. I haven't asked if Shockwave just happened to have a transtector body laying around or if he built it from scratch, but from the way Kyansa has described every piece of open-chassis chirurgery Shockwave has done as 'wicked cool' I'm not sure I'd like the answer either way.
"Why not? They said that they would."
I've been acting like 'Pull' is someone distinct from me, as Decepticons aren't exactly friendly to other species and we're still recruiting for our eventual exploration team. Having someone big and strong around encourages other Decepticons to not try leaning on Slipstream, while having 'him' be a bit mentally slow prevents him seeming threatening in other situations. My new body is painted in dull brown and transforms into a heavy goods transport vehicle: not bright enough or unusual enough to draw the eye, but visible enough not to surprise someone in the dark. I'm supposed to be able to fit in with a crowd, and it seems to have worked so far.
Slipstream glances down towards my feet, remembers that I'm not that short any more and then looks up at Pull's face.
"Because you know the ratio! They hardly ever resurrect Decepticons. Particularly late-War Decepticons."
Something which was generating a degree of ill-feeling, though most Decepticons weren't really expecting their friends back in any case and the few who got them back were too grudgingly grateful to make a fuss about it. It wasn't until the newly returned Emirate Xeon pointed out the huge advantage that the Autobots were getting and the potential threat it posed that there was any sort of organised outrage. Relations between the two returning factions were getting dicey until Megatron came back from… Wherever he went, and negotiated with the Autobot Provisional Council for better access.
"Sometimes knowing the right people helps."
Because while Prime's old team don't like us, they do recognise that we're not a threat to the truce. And if they're going to resurrect anyone on the Decepticon side-
"I can't believe they even found her!"
-it would be someone with a good social support network away from Cybertron. The Autobots have been carrying out recovery operations all over Cybertron and near-Cybertron space so I don't know exactly where they found Nova Storm's mortal remains or how those remains managed to avoid being infected with Dark Energon and turned into a Terrorcon, but I'm certainly not going to complain-
My auditory sensors pick up the sound of someone trudging nearby.
-about it.
Slipstream hears it too and immediately goes into hunt mode. Not a lot of transformers live this far from the newly built synthetic energon refineries, which isn't an issue for us as we mostly use energon shipped in from Earth. It's mostly just anti-social loners and-.
Ahead of me, Slipstream turns a corner with weapons drawn, then immediately lowers them.
"Hey Munition. You get beat up again?"
I trudge after her, careful to dim my eyes as I get a clear view of one of the local vagrants. Munition is a dull grey tank transformer who's been dossing in the area. I'm not exactly sure what he did before or during the war, but these days he spends his time preaching his particular variant of the pre-War Decepticon creed to anyone with the patience to put up with him. And with Decepticons increasingly rallying around Xeon and Megatron, that's increasingly fewer people.
This time he got off lightly. A few of his panels are dented, but there doesn't appear to be any serious damage.
"I did. But the Truth will not be silenced! We should not be defined by our brands any more than we should be by our alt-modes! Xeon rallies people with an outdated fear, which only-"
Slipstream waves a flask of energon in front of his face.
"-serves to separate us from those who-!" He focuses on what's in front of him. "Oh. Thank you."
"It's not that I don't agree, Munition." Slipstream takes a relaxed posture as Munition takes a gulp from the flask before connecting it to the emergency damage port on his badly dented right arm. That feeds it directly to his local self-repair system, a modification that a lot of heavy infantry Decepticons have made. "It's that if you keep going then Xeon is going to have someone kill you."
"Oh, I'm not worth his time. Besides." He looks down at where his battered copy of Towards Peace is chained to his waist. "I imagine that a recording of his limb-wrenchers shooting through that would do more damage than a street preacher no one listens to."
I rotate my head slightly, checking the street behind him for pursuit. "I listen."
Which mostly involves standing there and staring at anyone who looks like they're about to move from political disputation to 'political disputation'. Decepticons might have settled their disagreements peacefully once upon a time, but that was a long time ago. It's interesting, but without Slipstream to explain things I miss the context for about ninety percent of it.
Slipstream looks up and me, rolling her eyes at 'Pull's' foolishness. Munition detaches the flask and passes it back to her before checking the movement in his damaged arm. Looks alright to my inexpert eyes, and I can see the panelling start straightening out as his repair system gets to work.
"Thank you. I think I should spend some time working on my delivery. Where are you two going?"
Slipstream considers, but… While I think Munition is pretty trustworthy, I didn't spend a million years at war. "Recruiting, hopefully. An old friend I got separated from. I think she'll like Earth."
Munition nods. "I'm glad to hear it. Give her my regards."
"I-." Slipstream's arm pings with the 'ready' signal, and she immediately sends the 'acknowledge' reply.
Phh-tchhwuhwuhwah.
The ground bridge opens and Slipstream sprints towards it, despite knowing that they're not going to close it on her. I hesitate, watching her go for a moment and then striding after her just as she disappears on the far side. Pull's body isn't really made for running, and while I can transform like this it feels really weird. Besides, it's not like it takes long. Maybe twenty seconds pass and then I appear in the workshop where Ratchet is finishing reassembling Nova Storm's body to the best of his ability while Slipstream lurks at his side, staring at the face of the friend she thought she'd never see again. There are a lot of rooms like this, because while they can supply The Last Autobot with energon he has a throughput limit and the more power he has to spend on repairs during the resurrection process the fewer transformers he can resurrect.
This place has to have its own energon refinery to keep him going anyway. And a ground bridge jammer to stop people bridging inside and demanding or begging that their friend or team mate be brought back first. Or that they be allowed to watch for theological reasons. Or attacking to try and stop it.
Ratchet straightens up, clearly not entirely satisfied but without anything else to really do. Slipstream gets closer, standing next to Nova Storm's left shoulder. Aside from Nova Storm's lighter colour and a slight difference in the structure of her face, they look pretty much identical.
"She was quite badly damaged when we recovered her. I couldn't access her t-cog's records, so I used my record of your internal structures as a guide to her layout."
"Nova."
The ground bridge collapses behind me and… Ah, Ratchet knows who I am. "What will she remember?"
"Going by past experience, almost everything. The actual events of her death should be a little blurry, but she might remember it once she gets over the shock. I suggest several weeks of rest at the very least." He turns his head to look at the heavy doors at one end of the room. "He should-."
The colossal doors slam open at the far end of the room and The Last Autobot walks through, right hand raised towards Nova Storm's recumbent body. And in that moment I suddenly gain a new appreciation of exactly how big he is. When you're human, all transformers tower over you so he didn't really stand out; I didn't really notice that most of the transformers I know are about as tall as his head. He doesn't look around as yellow energy crackles around his right hand, then flows over Nova Storm's body. He keeps walking as she suddenly sits up, eyes focusing and hands grabbing at her chest as Slipstream hugs her. And then he lowers his hand as he exits through the door at the far end of the room, into a room where for a moment I see another bier, another medical and another hopeful transformer waiting for the return of the departed.
After assuring herself that her torso is in one piece, Nova Storm moves her hands to return Slipstream's hug. "Hey, Slippy. What in the Pit just happened?"
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Ngamer11
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That should say 'place'.
How protected is this version of Paul's organic body while it is in the Pull body?
Mr Zoat
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Thank you, corrected.
Comes up tomorrow, but as well as any transformer's brain module. He's effectively a transtector.
Chojin Patriarch
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Ooh, a trip into the Primeverse. Got to love the subtle ways cybertronian bodies are different to organics. Seen a lot of fanfics use things like 'fluffing armour plates' to represent skin-crawling shudders, or 'cycling their fans' for a deep breath and release.
See, that's why I write my 'bots with sensors in their extremities, to avoid bumping or squashing smaller frames. Sort of like having eyes all over your body, but only your primary ones are really 'seeing' most of the time.
To be fair, the closest equivalent seen in TF
rime was Silas' implantation into Breakdown's dead frame. That was... Unpleasant-looking at best. At least you're using proper Master technology.And I can't help but picture this guy, but less trash-trucky and modular. Or maybe a Prime-ified Movie-verse Hound.
Probably because by the late-war era, most Decepticons qualified as war criminals. Lots of hard feelings hanging around that sort of person.
Still gunshy about resuming any plans of conquest, I hope. Perhaps he's returned to his pre-war roots as a voice for the downtrodden...
It'll be the moderates and the early voices, before the criminals and lunatics began to get recruited...
Man, Cybertron's been through a lot of shit, even for the 'dead' cybertronians. And they probably still have a bunch of Insecticons and Terrorcons running around on one of the moons, don't they? Unless they've slaughtered each other and Airachnid and keeled over for lack of Energon...
Ah, the joy of enhanced senses, Able to perceive things you never could as a Human. Probably a little disorienting at first, and when you disconnect...
...Ah, speaking of the downtrodden. Those unable or unwilling to participate in the new society taking shape. Whether by choice or by circumstance.
Interesting. A Decepticon that wasn't a war criminal, or at least not willingly. Someone who remembers the old days, the old ways before the war. Though perhaps not clearly, given how long it's been.
One of the best voices for peace, if only people wanted to hear him. Remember, depending on continuity, there were a lot of cybertronians who weren't interested in either side. The IDW comics dubbed them 'NAILs', and more often than not, they fled the planet long before it ran dry. Planet Master, in Japanese G1. Paradron. Velocitron. Planet Beast, in the first Cybertron Cartoon...
Heh. Gets lost in his preaching, does he? Given his age, probably not uncommon.
And I suspect if Megatron learns of that happening, Xeon will need reviving again.
Perhaps he might be safer elsewhere? Earth, perhaps... But then his message would be forgotten...
Honestly, it's mostly borne from frustration turning to anger. 'They just won't listen!' turns to 'I will make them listen!' and before long, you end up with rebellion and war...
I suppose these days, there's a lot more energon to go around, and more for such functions to be more effective. Though I suppose the self-repair system can only handle so much... Cosmetic damage is fine, but big stuff like a torn out vocoder...
To be fair, I think she'll be happy enough just being alive again. As strange a thing that is to think about...
Ah, business time.
Logical enough. He can probably sort out any compatibility issues with installed replacement parts too. Effectively bypassing issues of 'organ' rejection, for example.
Sounds like there's a lot of that going around. Then again, with a literal demigod performing resurrections... Would humans behave any differently?
A slight difference from the cartoon design, but understandable. TF
rime femmes are a lot sleeker, whereas some from other continuities and series have been more diverse. Heck, I would have pegged the cartoon design as something closer to a strike bomber than a fighter...Damn, that's an intense feeling towards her. Something close to a sisterly relationship, then.
So, no big shocks or anything, eh? Good thing cybertronians are pretty good at dealing with sudden changes of circumstance...
A literal Titan, and a divinely empowered one at that... No wonder some 'bots want to bear witness to that.
Funny choice of words...
Given that you just got pulled out of the Smelter's Pit by the hand of Primus himself.Well, she is going to have a fun time getting caught up on everything. The changed political situation, the diaspora and return of the species to their homeworld. The literal dark god of their people rising only to be defeated, twice. The dead being restored to functionality... Oh, and her best friend basically got married.
It's mostly just anti-social loners and-.
Munition detaches the flask...
Mr Zoat
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Just because he remembers how it started, that doesn't mean that he hasn't committed war crimes in the intervening period.
Thank you, corrected.
edmantgoog
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Hay Mr Zoat I just wanted to ask is rhwre a version of paul in the Boys tv or comic verse? If so how's he doing? Also ring world ?
Mr Zoat
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There's an Indigo Lantern version in the comic verse. In terms of his position in civilisation he's doing alright, but he's lost most of his emotional range.
If you're referring to Larry Niven's Ringworld, no, as I know nothing about the setting.
Darko
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There is one in the comic universe.
He's a member of Super Duper and is helping them with their issues.
His name is Saul Talbot.
Yeah, if I remember correctly he and Auntie Sis, Super Duper's leader, tried having a romantic, or at least sexual relationship, but by that point Saul couldn't really feel love or desire.
Mr Zoat
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It's really more that she tried to have one with him. Or at least, drifted into it.
iamnuff
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Pull presenting himself as big and slow is fun.
Keeps you just threatening enough that people don't mess with you, but not smart enough to be the kind of threat that someone needs to proactively do something about.
Keeps you just threatening enough that people don't mess with you, but not smart enough to be the kind of threat that someone needs to proactively do something about.