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More data tomorrow...

... or if you really can't wait, go ahead and backtrack to my photobucket gallery, but my time on the l;ibrary 'chine I can actually post from is about up.
Story too! But for that, you'll have to wait, it's not on P.B.

- CD
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows
That's a pretty cool model, man. Too bad we can't actually *see* it in that shot.
Mr. Fnord interdimensional man of mystery

FenWiki - Your One-Stop Shop for Fenspace Information

"I. Drink. Your. NERDRAGE!"
Well yeah, s'why it's a 'teaser image' y'see. Never fear, Underdog is here.

Now going to the prewritten/offline post...

Okay! Starting from the premise that everyone was a good little boy/girl/alternative/primate, and waited EXTRA patiently despite 'tomorrow' being
counted in Microsoft Minutes (R) I'll first link to and explain the pictures that need it.

Wave Convoy, vehicle mode

http://s113.photobucket.com/albums/n225 ... nt=WC1.jpg

Robot mode

http://s113.photobucket.com/albums/n225 ... wWave1.jpg

Another angle

http://s113.photobucket.com/albums/n225 ... wWave2.jpg

http://s113.photobucket.com/albums/n225 ... oster1.jpg

Combined with the Full Wave Booster 'trailer'- note that while getting the FWB shoulders to work I added a set of half-diameter-exposed EPS conduits on
the top of the narrow part of the trailer, to allow collar-type hinges that swing the engine nacelles 60 degrees up and together to be out of the way, ala
Thunderclash's trailer jet pods from which I took the idea in the first place (sold in the US as KB-exclusive Machine Wars Optimus Prime, circa Beasties S2

There's another image of the trailer from behind and above I forgot to put on my USB stick also.

http://s113.photobucket.com/albums/n225 ... otlogo.jpg

Close up of the Autobot logo on the port docking ring doors - due to the rushed time frame to get the unit ready for the Transformers: Wave Riders puplicity
tour, the construction of the majority of the narrow section's systems was contracted out to Utopia Planitia Yards, meaning theres a cola/uncola intermix
chamber and EPS manifold taking up one wall of the small cabin in the top ar of that part, with electrical power taps but no onboard energon condenser - Wave
Convoy links into the trailer systems then attatches a 220VAC extension cord to his onboard condenser, and controls the flight systems over a network
connection rather than the 'wearing stilts and big gloves' sensation of using the combined form robot mode.

Note that aside from psychological warfare and bunker-busting the Full Wave Booster is not actually a combatworthy frame - quite aside from what the Takara
Market Publicity Department which actually owns it would think of getting it damaged, even 'Cybertronian' construction techniques and a toned-down
version of Wave Convoy's Maximum Output mode that doesn't cause intermal damage just by moving to speed it up can't give it a reasonable reflex
speed, and the only one of its toy-style 'weapon systems' that's really useable in a meaningful way is the Tsunami Cutter Space Sword. Which is
ridiculously huge, and again only really good for putting a big hole in fixed defenses, or maybe a flying, samurai-movie slash against a ship too
unmaneuverable to dodge.

There is also a light show projecting BFG and eight 'missiles' each about the size of Wave Convoy himself ... Which launch with an audible
"Doing!" and have the Slapstick Effect preventing them from doing anything but knockback.

Images of the above will have to wait until I actually finish the model's arms, however. I also have one of the Gnarlycurl in preliminary stages - at
this point, it's basically the bare asteroid-metal carved hull as delivered by Rockhounds, estimated weight 5.3 million tons.


My PB gallery, for bookmarking purposes, since it has the original three hand-drawn Wave Convoy pages with the Saving Shuko scene also.

That taken care of, I have three story shorts as well, though none of them are more than a scene and the last is firmly in the "possible futures"
category. They'll be moved from here to the SWtA story thread when I actually find the blasted thing.

- CD

Short One: Surfing With The Alien 4, Missed Stakes with Kitten Sauce

Faith came to in the dark. The space was small, barely big enough for her legs to be straight where she sat against a wall, but the air wasn't sour from
being closed in, or musty with age. Her slayer sense was silent, and so was the box, room, whatever. "Where the fuck am I?" she wondered, feeling
along the walls, and the low ceiling overhead. There was just barely room to stand.

Then, she remembered. The fight with B, the jump, the shit she pulled on Wesley, the fight with Angel where he wouldn't kill her. The trial.

"S'right, I'm in jail. Stupid bitch tried to start sometin' with the new girl and I busted her up, then the guards came... Prob'ly
threw me in solitary. Fuck."

There was no way to know what time it was, and of course no light switch. She sat down again in the still, silent darkness, closed her eyes, and tried to
think about being a better person. She wasn't brimming over with ideas, beyond "Try not to kill anyone else" and "Don't go stabbing
people in the back," but she figured she'd have a while to think about the problem.

That's what she was here for, after all.

Surfing With the Alien 4

Mist Steaks With Kitten Sauce

April 30, 2012, en route to Mars from Terra

"I just don't understand it, Convoy," Michael complained. "All the diagnostics you ran on the duplicate laser core checked out, and the
three normal computer nodes are all at maximum processor throughput running a simulation of that core, running whatever - whoever has woken up in it, but
it's like the simulation's IO ports have stopped working... Which is impossible, because it's still sending network handshakes, and the sim
diagnostics show everything working fine. It doesn't make any SENSE!"

"If you're expecting the universe to make sense, you'll be in for a lot of disappointment, Michael," the green and grey Autobot crouching
down to peer at the human-scaled equipment in the garage bay quipped wryly. "Perhaps it's more of a software issue," he suggested.

"But I just said, all the software says it's A-OK!"

Tapping a finger against the flaring silver brow ornament of his head, Wave Convoy said, "Not the kind of software I meant."

Michael blinked. "You mean, a mental thing? What, the new AI is feeling antisocial or something, and doesn't want to come out to play?"

"Perhaps it's something as simple as that, or perhaps he or she has incepted as a blank, like an infant, and doesn't understand how to access
the preloaded files or communicate. The only other person running on this kind of hardware is me, and I ended up this way by something of a fluke. I'll try
connecting through the duplicate core to the simulation on the cyberspace level, and see if I can figure things out from there." He paused and twitched a
few inches side to side, rolling on the stackked rear tires that became his lower legs. "Are you sure about this form, not being able to tranform, I mean.
It still feels like intentionally crippling its usefulness as a body."

"We've been over this half a dozen times, big guy. There's a hundred or so machine intelligences living in carmods who can't transform and
don't feel like that makes them crippled, and if KITT-10 turns out more like KARR than KITT, isn't it better to have that much less threat potential?
Espescially given that I used a golden yellow scanner bar and two-tone paint job, because it looks so much cooler."

Indeed, the scratch-built reproduction 80's style Trans Am hooked into all the diagnostic and support gear in the Gnarlycurl's #4 bay was pretty
much a perfect match to the 'evil twin' KARR from classic Knight Rider. Michael might not have been Marcel's real first name, but LeChevalier was
honestly his, and with that combination he'd figured he might as well have the ride half the system expected of him... or a version of it, at least. In an
attempt to influence it more toward the Light Side of the Duct Tape tens of thousands of files had been preloaded; text, images, audio, and video of, by, and
about heroes from real life and fiction, along with the expectable data about the worlds and peoples and how to astrogate between them. Wave Convoy wasn't
all that sure how effective such a ploy might be, but figured it couldn't hurt, at least. He scooted a little closer and used a minimanipulator to connect
an optical cable between one of the data ports under his right 'wristwatch' cover and the softly twinkling laser core under KITT-10's hood, then
his optics dimmed as he dove into the digital world.

"How the hell long can one night last!?" Faith complained to herself. If it wasn't for the fact that she hadn't gotten hungry or needed a
bathroom she'd swear she'd been cooling her heels in the dark for years now. It hadn't been bad for a while, a chance to think things over in peace
and come to terms with herself, but she'd always been a woman of action, it got old after a while. She'd hummed all the songs she could remember, which
was surprisingly many, gone over movies and comics and the occasional book she'd read until she worried she might start hallucinating them without anything
else to see, even gotten herself off a couple times... And when that's lost its fun, you're REALLY nowhere.

When something finally changed, therefore, she was instantly on the alert and on her feet in the barely-large-enough space her dark cell offered. There was
still no light, and it wasn't a sound as such... she'd thought it was her 'slaydar' at first but but the feeling wasn't demonic, just that
someone was there and was interested in her. "Hello?" she asked. "Who's there? Hell, at this point if you're offerin' copies of The
Watchtower door-to-door I'd take one just to have somethin' new to do, as long as it comes with a light to read by."

"This is Wave COnvoy," a voice replied, a little distorted as if it was coming through a radio or something. "Are you all right? Is there
something keeping you from accessing the environment?"

Okay, seriously whacked out name, there, she thoguht. Never one to "Wave Convoy? What, were your parents like, hippie truckers or something? Not that
talking to the son of hippie truckers wouldn't be absolutely fascinating compared to what I been doin'. And yeah, there's this thing called a
'prison' where they put people like me when we get caught, or even if we turned ourselves in, that's keepin' me from 'accessing the
evironment.' Duh."

"You're not in a prison," the voice said, worried sounding, "You've been isolated in the system for days, there's nothing you
could have done to warrant confinement. We've been waiting for you to show yourself and connect."

The hell? Were they even talking the same language, here? The young woman suddenly realized that she still hadn't been hearing the voice with her ears,
so if it was some kind of mind-mojo thing going on who knew what 'Wave Convoy' used for language, or whether he was even a human. Using a mind whammy
was a lot further into the 'targets for slaying' category, demonic feeling or not. Even so there was Red and English with the mojo and Oz all wolfy but
still way more on the side of the angels than herself - she snorted to herself at the thought, considering Angel's history compared to his role in what had
happened - so the new, improved Faith wasn't going to go jumping into hasty slaying. Hasty slaying got innocent guys dead, and look where that had led

"Oh, I'm a bad girl, all right," she confirmed. "Gonna try not to do anythin' like that again, try real hard, but I did the crime so
now I'm doin' the time. Gotta admit, the little black room is gettin' old, though."

"Really, we don't have you in a prison, thoguh I can understand if you feel confined in your current conditions." Whoever or whatever the
person talking to her was he - she felt safe enough in classing the 'voice' as male, at least - was a persistent at least. "If you can't find
your way out, try following my signal. I've routed it through a more capacious node intended as your actual home system, which has a lot more

Follow the signal? Right, like she was supposed to be able to track some kind of mental voodoo shit. Of course, she was the girl who could feel and track
demons with her own magical voodoo powers, so who was she to argue? Her original Watcher hadn't had enough time to teach her much about it before getting
killed, Gwen had been evil, Wes useless, and Giles too focussed on his golden girl, so it was Obi-Wan Kenobi and Yoda she thoguht of as she concentrated on the
feeling, letting go of her senses to act on instinct.

And then, she wasn't in the dark. The room was still barely big enough to move in and everything seemd oddly unfinished as if it was just a rough sketch
of how things should be, but not how they actually were, but it was filled with readouts and gizmos and lights that blinked or chased along glowing cords, a
slightly different colored light on each of three walls and an open doorway on the third with a multicolored swirl just outside. A stream of little light-blobs
trickled out of it and headed toward her, popping like soap bubbles to release little fragments of sound-that-wasn't, probably the reason why the dude
talking to her sounded radio-like as he said, "The interface will stay open, you don't need to come out now if you don't want to, but
everyone's been waiting to meet you out here."

Faith stepped into the doorway.

I want a little more here, covering Faith beginning to deal with the idea that despite remebering her life like its her life, most anyone she meets will
know many of the worst parts if ut because in this world she's a fictional chharacter. Whether she's a genuine cross-dimensional brain copy or just
thinks she is, much like whether Wave Convoy himself is actually the same person or just thinks he is, is a Canonical Area of Doubt and Uncertanty. Since
there's not a lot of point rehashing the SOScon info, this part should end with the original SOS-dan notice. This'll do for now, though, and I want to
get caught up to whatever current events are if possible... and finally crank out standard character and equipment profiles, even if I don't have
cute/punny section titles.


KITT-10 simply stands for "Knight Industries 2010", because they couldn't come up with a better name and Michael started designing the car in




"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows
Short Two: Surfing With the Alien 6: Eight Simple Rules

Timeline: Fall of Crystal Osaka plus about 6 months - I might close that gap a little and just combine this with the MAXIMUM OUTPUT short if no one included it as a cutscene in something longer.


Surfing with the Alien 6(?):

Eight Simple Rules


"What are you doing, nya?"

Wave Convoy, being a machine if however advanced, was quite able to remain utterly motionless if he had no need to move, and often did so when his attention was on cyberspace projects or simply deep in thought, to avoid thoughtlessly damaging the merely human beings and their furnishings that surrounded him aboard the Gnarlycurl. When you're a towering metal giant, a simple "stretch" (even if the need is purely psychological) can do, well, equally massive destruction. Even understanding the reasons, it was still profoundly unnatural to the active catgirl, and seeing him frozen up in thought always twanged Shuko's curiosity something fierce.

Convoy's optics brightened as his attention returned to the physical world, and his head swiveled to regard the small freind perched in the crook of the arm folded across his chestplate. Since Crystal Osaka and the massive rebuild she'd had to do to repair the self inflicted damage of Maximum Output mode she'd had something of a proprietary feeling about his chassis, like a craftsman who'd contributed details to a larger masterpeice designed by someone else... or more likely, like a mechanic with a 'pet' customer. Jumping and climbing around on him was utterly unsurprising in such a case, given her feline attributes.

"You know I've been working on recreating the Cybertronian martial art of Metallikato, right?" he asked.

"Un. More like piecing together moves from other arts, mainly Tai Chi and Tiger style kung fu. And may I just say that that's a really strange combination? The epitome of soft arts and one of the most agressive hard styles."

An actual shrug was one of the motions not possible with his joint structure, but he twitched his upper arms outward and back in the closest facsimile, though careful not to dislodge the woman on his forearm. "I have the kind of 'body hardening' hard style masters can only dream of and the actuators to back it up, but as we both know all too well brute force can only get you so far before becoming counterproductive." And how, if not for stasis shutdown, he would have died before even making it to a repair bay. "Tai Chi is more about maintaining one's center and using the opponent's own momentum, something never to be discounted in battles on my scale. Plus, it includes sword use, definately something I want to include given how unavoidably fragile my hand and finger joints are compared to the rest. Adapting the motions to a simplified joint structure in ways that actually work is kind of difficult, however - I've burned through around eighty years of cyberspace time and I'm still not done."

"So that's what you were working on? Virtual motion sequence developement?" she asked.

"Actually, not at the precice moment you asked. I've also been working on a code of ideals, founding principles for the school. Here, I'll put it up on the monitor for you."

The huge projection screen that served as the main "bridge monitor" of Gnarlycurl when it wasn't acting as God's Own Big Screen TV switched away from the current vista of slowly shifting starscape as the ship made its way toward Stellvia to a Fennix desktop, then popped open a short text file on screen.


I. There is ignorance and there is wisdom, there is turmoil and there is peace, there is death and there is life. Only by acknowledging that which you wish to correct can you affect it.

II. Fortune favors the prepared. It is better to have ten plans you never need than no plan, whether for matters of conflict or peace. Simple plans for a limited circumstance are best, as they can then be assembled to fit the complex situations that the universe often presents.

III. Know where you are weak and where you have strength, when to press forward and when to retreat. There is no victory in death, no defeat in escape from a superior foe, but you must temper this rule with the consequences of your actions. Few indeed are battles with no greater stakes than pride.

IV. Meet honor with honor, truth with truth, and courtesy with courtesy. Treat the dishonorable, untruthful, and discourteous with as much honor, truth, and courtesy as you may without being used for unacceptable ends. Give assistance where it is needed if it lies within your capabilities.

V. To dismiss the importance of joy is to dismiss that which makes life worthwhile. Make time for fun and laughter, even if it is no more than a quip during a lull in battle.


He waited while Shuko read over the list, then summarized, "To put it more succinctly: Use the force, be prepared, know yourself, be excellent to each other, and-" and here, Wave Convoys voice suddenly picked up the most vacuous Simi Valley accent imaginable, "-party on, dudes!"

"...I cannot believe you just said that," she deadpanned.

"Why not? Espescially given the longer form of that one... I think there should be something about adaptability in there as well, though." He opened a second connection, a simulated bluetooth keyboard, and added a few more lines.


VI. An agile mind is the most powerful weapon in any warrior's arsenal. There is no knowlege that is without value if one can but recognise the appropriate circumstance and adapt theory into practice to suit.


"Ist gut, ja?" he asked, using three of the dozen or so words he knew in German without referring to a translation routine.

"Works. Anything else?"

"Hmm. Maybe surrendered enemies, and a dash of common sense."


VII. An honorable foe may honorably surrender, the treacherous must be subdued if they call for mercy. Regardless, the plea of surrender should be heeded even if prisoners can only be stripped of their combat equipment and released.

VIII. There is no such thing as an unfair advantage or dishonorable tactic in a battle to the death. Sieze every advantage, use every tactic to make greater advantage, and strike without hesitation until the enemy has fallen and can not rise.


"You sure about number seven? There is a war on, you know..." Shuko didn't sound all that certain, and given the shipment of sex-toy-conditioned catgirls that had been intercepted by one of the Space Pirate patrols the week before it was hardly surprising.

"Yes. We need to be better than them, or what's the point? Besides, it doesn't say anything about not apprehending criminals just because they happen to surrender instead of fighting to the end," he explained. "I'm trying for something applicable for the long term rather than only in the immediate situation."

Shuko pursed her lips and made a noncomittal mew. After a moment, she let it go and commented, "I guess it'll do if you like them, but I thought martial arts school principles tended to be short and direct, like 'Honor, Duty, Victory!' isn't it kind of long?"

Wave Convoy opened his mouth as if for an 'eh' sound and produced a quick burst of modulated squawks in a stream with eight barely perceptible breaks. It was oddly familiar though she didn't recognize why for a minute, until she remembered the dial-up modem one of her friends' computers had in high school. "Modem squawks? Isn't that a little low-tech for a Transformer?"

"Harder to jam than radio for short range as long as you have atmosphere," he noted, "and there's a long, glorious history of sonic machine languages for Transformers."

"Right... Meaning the word balloons in the comics with little multicolored triangles along the edges, Dinobot telling Rattrap to talk in plain Cybertronix instead of slang-laden gibberish, and the gobbledygook from the Bay movie."

"We do not speak of the Beasties, and that movie was only barely acceptable as TF mythos even if it was fun as action movies go.. They sure played the wave of public awareness from our little adventure for all it was worth, though. Not that the anti-Wave 'danemagogues appreciated it all that much."

"I wonder what the Air FOrce thought of it, given how they fared against you," the catgirl said, remembering wild glimpses of the pair of interceptors that had been scrambled after them, the high pitched spang of gatling bullets ricocheting off his heavy armor and the deeper boom of missiles swatted aside by his gravity gun in repel mode, while she and Micheal huddled in the cab.

"According to Morden's contacts they were really upset about it, but all their scenes had already been filmed and run through the checks for declassification, so there was nothing they could do. Personally I don't see what they had to be upset about, in the movie they came off as having the only really efffective human weapons; I wouldn't want to try getting hit by one of those myself. They should have kept classic Spike instead of Sam Witwicky, though, and there wasn't enough time spent on the actual robots for a movie called 'The Transformers.'"

"Aw, big bad Wave COnvoy had to sit through a story told from a squishie's perspective," Shuko teased.

"Most of them still are," he replied, "but the original movie had less humans in the whole thing than the first scene of Bay's reboot. And the character designs sucked tailpipe, way too over-complicated and under-armored... it's like they were all nudists, letting their energy shielding substitute for plating."

"...and I'd just like to thank you for the mental image of giant robotic nudists, now pass the brain bleach, please... and how is energy shielding related to nudism anyway?"

"Nudists, by definition, go without clothes. Since full-body sunburns are usually considered a Very Bad Thing, sunscreen has to be an important commodity for them. For the Bay Trasformers, the lack of armor coverage makes relying on the energy shield McGuffin a neccessity to avoid a bad case of laser burns in those unprotected systems. And it's also fairly literal, the few times you see a G1 transformer with their outer plating removed it looks pretty much like the movie style clusters of actuators and tubing."

Shuko sighed, and ran a hand down her face. She just knew she was going to be stuck thinking about this conversation the next time she had him in the bay for maintainance. Why couldn't she have let it go without the explanation?


The bit about sitting completely still out of a desire to not squish the tiny fleshlings is actually another carry over of my own mannerisms, except of course that I have to breathe and real muscles do need the occasional stretch. After more than a decade of having a minimum of one Yorkshire terrier in the household, rougly in scale to myself as a human to Wave Convoy, I've learned to keep my feet still unless I'm looking at them, never to sit in a chair without checking to see if it's got a dog in it or just a fluffy cushion, and don't even move around in my sleep. Critters barely bigger than your feet have a way of instilling caution in your movements pretty quickly, espescially affectionate critters who love to snuggle up to anyone who stays in one place for a few minutes.

-------- 8< -------- cut here -------- 8< --------

Short three: A Time to Die

freshness date: 20070803
Preceeding chapter title: "A Time to Kill"

Date unknown, location unknown... for now. Note, "Tigre" is (mis)pronounced "Tee-Grey," rather than simply being the Spanish way to spell "tiger" while sounding much the same.


Surfing With the Alien Xx

A Time to Die


The battle had been... epic. Epic in its reasons, epic in its numbers, epic in the ways it had been fought, and as far as Hotseat was concerned, the most amazing of all had been Wave Convoy - and not just because he was her "father." He had gone through the enemy like a fusion turbine, slicing off little chunks with his blades and leaving only expanding plasma in his wake. It wasn't until the aftermath that they'd realised he'd been using an afterburner that consumed himself - the technique he'd first tried back in 2013, at the fall of Crystal Osaka, which had almost killed him then.

It was killing him now. More careful programming of the gravity nodes that spread out the internal shear gradients and stronger construction after the last time had let him keep it up for nearly an hour rather than seconds, but simply exerting that much force had taken its toll. When he'd been retrieved, every joint in his frame was rag doll loose, actuators long destroyed and shattered out of the way by continuous forced movements. The twin swords that had taken such dreadful toll were welded messily to his forearms, the hands that should have held them likewise shattered. The right was gone completely, the left hung by the energon cables and data lines where the wrist joint had failed. The rest of him was little better, the heavy cybertronium armor scored and broken, and grey with soot in those few places not left completely black.

Black, like a starless void, like the the gaping empty feeling in her fuel tank at the thought of a universe that didn't have him in it. Scrap it, it shouldn't be POSSIBLE for him to die! Stasis mode had saved him the first time he tried this bolthead maneuver, the little energon he'd had left all collected in the head and the connections closed between it and the body, consciousness and every other system shut down save a piezo pump that pulsed every few minutes, circulating the energon just enough to keep his laser core lit.

The thing was, he'd reached the brink of stasis shutdown a few minutes too early, and erased the subroutine in order to fight on. The data port to connect to his offline backups aboard ship had been damaged, and you couldn't just shut down a core's functions piecemeal externally, not if you ever wanted it to come back online, and so now they were going to lose him.

She understood, now, why he'd added tear ducts to her body design, despite serving no practical purpose when her optics were fitted with ultrasound cleaners. Though she'd never been a human they way he had, the act of shedding tears felt... not good, because it was possible nothing would be good ever again, but right. It was like admitting to the universe, "This thing makes me sad, too much to hide behind pride. It's something that is worth being seen sad over." Hugging her arms closer she slumped against the bulkhead and let the little spurts of diluted energon fall like glowing gems.

They'd gathered in the garage bay, the small group of mecha pilots and "real Transformers" who'd finally gotten him to accept leadership as organised Autobots. He'd called for them as soon as the damage was pronounced terminal - not that most had been far away to begin with. It wasn't any real mystery what for - they were nuts enough about the source material to claim allegiance, after all - and if the four color "sytems monitor" set up beside the repair bed left any room for doubt it was quickly dispelled when Wave Convoy glanced around at his collected subordinates and spoke.

"My time in the light, is short," he began, formally, before looking at his chosen successor. "Tigre, my freind. It is to you I will pass the Matrix."

Uncharacteristically flabbergastred, the black and grey fembot named staggered back a step, gaping, golden optics wide in shock. Quickly gathering herself, she protested, "You, you gotta be shittin' me, C! I ain't no leader, I don't even wear an insignia... I'm the bad one. Hell, I'm still makin' up for stuff that only happened in a TV show and fake memories, I'm not good enough to be in charge!"

"That never stopped any of you from following me," he countered. "I was a regular shmoe, a little lazy, a little selfish. I had to work at it. You've worked at it, and I have full confi...dence in you..."

The blue glow of his eyes flickered at the hitch in his voice, and the armor panels below his chest grille and insignia opened to reveal the dark grey casing of the Matrix chamber. His words continued to be interupted as most of the available processor time was taken up by high-speed data transfer. "It's not quite... like the movie... no plot device power... to shatter villains... or end plagues... but it will guide you... through your doubts... and you will rise... to be the light... in our darkest hour..."

As the chamber itself opened, a blinding blue glow spilled out, the whole room washing out to nothing but that brilliant, shimmering radiance and a few jagged black shadows cowering desperately behind the assembled Autobots' backs. It was breathtaking, and nothing like it had ever happened on those few other occasions Wave Convoy had shown the device off. As the glow faded, so too did the light in his optics, and wierdly enough the colors of his paint job, washed clean of grime as well as they could in the short time while everyone had gathered, did as well, leaving him grey and silver from head to foot rather than the green and gold that the 'wave had bonded into the structure of the metal itself.

Tigre lifted a hand to her face, looked at it as if it was alien, then dropped it again, drops of radiance forming a moment later at the corners of her optics. She extended the human-sized "minihands" in the first two right fingertips and retrieved the Matrix from its socket in Wave Convoy's chest compartment.

Hotseat wanted to look away, to watch anything but this moment that somehow finalized the loss and made it real, but she couldn't. Some corner of her mind noted that she might have felt jealous, or at least worried that things would follow the movie script more than intended and leave her in, well, the hot seat, but if anything it was a relief, and the thought that "big sis" Tigre couldn't handle anything that came her way all but ludicrous. More importantly, watching meant showing respect, and for all the trouble and teasing she'd given him from time to time that was something she definately wanted.

A faint trace of energy seemed to wash over Tigre as she set the small construct into her own containment chamber - something that they all had, essentially the definition of "real Cybertronian" construction along with a laser core and Energon power - and a few pieces of gold trim appeared in its wake along with a white-outlined red insignia on her chest, giving the dark color scheme a regal look rather than shadowy.

"Huh, kinda tingles," she noted, "but I don't think I'm gonna turn into an RV now." Just to make sure, she stepped clear of the small crowd, out into the hangar proper, and transformed with the familiar multi-toned crunch. "Nope, same old Trans Am, guess it really don't... doesn't work like the movie." Her scanner bar whooshed a couple of times, then she returned to robot mode, muttering thoughtfully, "And if that's the kind of guidance he was talkin' about this is gonna be even more of a pain in the a... ass than I figured. Fuck."

Raising her head, she gave the collected Autobots a serious look, more serious than most had ever seen her. "Okay, I've never been big with words, but I guess this is part of my job now so I'll give it a shot. Wave Convoy... no question he was the first of us, and I'd say he was the best, too. He always said he didn't deserve it before but I think he's proved he did, and more than once... so let's remember him as Optimus Prime, 'cause if the suit fits you should at least wear it at your own funeral. Whatta you guys say?"

"Optimus Prime!"



Tigre is KITTEN/Faith rebuilt, and she's complaining about the Matrix because it doesn't like her language, when the Autobot leader is supposed to be exemplar to everyone else.

I said at the time that I didn't decide until I was almost through with it whether to have Wave Convoy survive the battle in the flash-forwards of the first chapter, this has its roots in that as much as the original movie, though some details have changed of course. What it says about me that I've now killed my local self not once but twice, I'm not sure I'd want to go into, except as the artistic integrity to not extend the character plot immunity just because he's a self insert. I will say that this doesn't happen until sometime after the Miranda/aliens plot of Fenspace Season Two shakes out, however.

So why post it now? I've almost lost it twice in the not-quite-a-year I've been sitting on it, and if it's on the MB it can at least be considered a remote backup, and be filed under "possible alternate futures." If the Miranda/aliens stuff is still even on, of course - I haven't kept of Fenspace recently while I was repressing that godawful nightmare and the sequel that were set in it, but found my interest rejuvenated this past week.
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows
Quote:If the Miranda/aliens stuff is still even on, of course - I haven't kept of Fenspace recently while I was repressing that godawful nightmare and the sequel that were set in it, but found my interest rejuvenated this past week.
I don't think we've forgotten about the Miranda mission... but nobody's done anything with it in months.

I think I just figured out a way to work a cameo of the Miranda mission into Legend of Galactic Girls, so if it's retroactively not happening any more, please tell me now...
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012