Member No.: 281
Joined: 7-December 10
It's MARCH in Australia, so let's get started! March's theme will be revealed below the entries that were received for February's theme.
February's entries are presented in alphabetical order by author.
The theme chosen by Silverblades2 as winner of last month's voting-
February- My Brother Standing Next To Me
In Sparta the shield you carried was not for you, but for the brother that stood beside you, and his shield for his brother and so on. It's a common belief that while a soldier holds his country in the highest honor and respect he does not fight for the country, but the brother fighting beside him. Throughout history bonds deeper, and more intense than anyone could comprehend have been forged between warriors who haven't even known each other's names, and never had the chance to learn. Illustrate such a bond between beings, whether they've known each other for their whole lifetimes, have just met, or only heard of each other in passing.
Show me the bonds of brotherhood forged by fire.
And remember; keep any comments constructive as everyone worked hard on these.
1. New Brothers
Synopsis: Combat icons meet for the first time
Dodging a stream of gunfire, the tan Decepticon jumped and landed behind a large piece of granite. His feet slid in the sand and he tumbled to his rear and winced. “Scrap it all to the pit,” he muttered under his breath, clutching his weapon. Looking around, he couldn’t see any of his comrades. He was cut off. Swindle looked to his pistol and sneered thru gritted teeth, “Looks like today’s potential for virtually any profit margin just went to zero!”
As he was about to turn and fire from the top of his shelter, another Decepticon landed abruptly next to him, startling him, and cocked his weapon.
“A little warning would have been nice. I almost shot you, moron!”
The green Decepticon shot him a dirty glance, and returned his attention to his gun. He seemed to be having trouble with it.
Swindle looked down to the hardware, and continued, “That’s a SonarFleet Brigade124A. Good gun, but they jam all the time. Most mec-”
Ignoring him and frantic, the other warrior started to remove a piece, “Tell me something I don’t already know! My others blasters are out of ammo! Them Autobots are thick!”
“I was saying, most mechs have a tendency to want to disassemble it, but that takes precious astroseconds from your response time. Really all you got-” He reached his hand over, but the Decepticon pulled away. “I know weaponry. May I?”
Reluctantly, the other mech offered his piece back. Swindle loved when mechs surrendered to him. He felt like a teacher. His pupils had so much to learn, “All you gotta do is cock it twice real hard, real quick and flip this switch and viola!”
“Got it!” the burly warrior snatched the weapon back and fired at the oncoming intruders.
“You’re welcome, um? Who are you?”
“You’re that leech Swindle and don’t you worry about my name. Ain’t gonna see you again anyways.”
“You must be Brawl then. You fit the profile. I’ve heard about you too.”
“Can’t have heard much. Most mechs know me, they’re dead.”
Swindle was not amused by the level of cyber-testosterone present, “Can the tough guy crap, war hog. If you were really the tough soldier you thought you were, you’d have dusted that Autobot squad that seems to be, I don’t know, surviving this blistering assault you’re giving them!”
“Do you find that talking puts their afts in the dirt? You could help! Shoot at them bastards!”
”Actually,” Swindle began, “I find the right weapon makes all the difference.” Stowing his pistol in his ankle, he opened a panel on his back and swung out a much more powerful piece of hardware. As Brawl rattled off fire at an oncoming Autobot, Swindle leveled the barrel of his cannon and fired. The blast was deafening and the Autobot was blown backward, a gaping hole through his torso. In quick succession he fired again at the bunker where a couple other Autobots were holed up and watched the compound blow like matchsticks. The enemy group ceased firing to regroup.
Incredulous, holding his hand to the side of his head, Brawl shouted, “Goddamn, Swindle, I think you blew my audio receptor!”
Swindle smiled and chuckled.
Brawl lowered his hand from the side of his head and snickered, “Nice work. That dang ‘bot never knew what hit him! Nice piece!”
“It’s for sale! I could cut you a real fine deal, Brawl.”
“I’ll take two!”
“On your pay scale? I think I’ll set you up on a real nice payment plan. Reasonable interest, of course,” he smirked.
The two ‘cons gave each other high fives and found them selves laughing heartily, relieving the tension from just moments before. The area was eerily silent of gunfire.
“Fools!” a voice boomed and before the duo could respond, found their weapons swatted from their hands and were looking down twin barrels of high powered sonic stun guns. “I could have slaughtered you both!”
Swindle spat, “ What the—“
“Untrained amateurs! From what I’ve seen I don’t understand how the two of you have survived this long. You have the potential, scrap piles, if you don’t get yourself killed first.”
Brawl stood and confronted the larger Decepticon, bumping him with his chest a step backward, “Just who do you think you are?! I oughtta--”
“My name is Onslaught, grunt,” he sneered, “and I am taking you under my command, effective immediately!”
Brawl clenched his fist, “You can’t do that. My commander is-“
“-Dead. Both of yours,” Onslaught completed the statement, looking down on the ungrateful warrior. “Now get to your feet Decepticons. We have to move!”
Synopsis: Bluestreak remembers fallen comrades at a memorial.
Bluestreak kneeled and taking the rust red link of chain attached it to one of the links hanging down the wall of remembrance. The chains often found on the battlefields of the Great War had become symbols of the fallen. As Bluestreak got up to his feet he looked up at the stars in the sky. Sometimes Bluestreak liked to imagine that the each star represented one of his fallen comrades.
There were so many to remember in the millions of years that the war had carried on. Not only his comrades in arms but everyone he’d ever known from his home town. Everyone, every acquaintance, every brief encounter, everyone he’d ever had bought something from or passed the time of day with, everyone he’d ever shared a bar or street with.
Like the stars themselves some of the fallen shone brighter in his memories than others. Bluestreak walked along the war memorial. The ebony wall stretched as far as the optic could see. The name of every Autobot who had fallen in the War in chronological order was engraved upon it.
In death all were equal the names of privates were engraved next to those of generals. Death the great equaliser. Bluestreak paused as he spotted a familiar name. He reached out and traced the name with a finger. He blinked and paused as a host of memories flooded back. Fusion, poor, noble doomed Fusion.
Decepticon Ammo Dump , Gamma section
Fusion peered through the window crouching down to keep a low profile.
“Hurry up ‘Streak, the guards changing soon. They’ll discover where we broke in, are you sure the Shatter bombs are in here?”
Bluestreak flew along the aisles optics scanning labels and boxes.
“Sure sure, working as fast as I can, intercepted coms Intel says they had a delivery of 4 dozen last cycle. Must be round here somewhere, just keep on watching for guards. “
“Right, right. I want to live just as much as you do. Primus knows why I let you talk me into volunteering for special duties. You’ve been getting me into trouble ever since you talked me into volunteering for the Autobots just after we met in that refugee camp.”
Bluestreak kept searching
“Come on, come on, gotta be here somewhere. Who organises this place, there doesn’t seem to be any sort of coherent system.”
Fusion glanced over his shoulder.
“How about chronological, if they’re stowed in the order they came in; if you can find the other items on that same intercepted order then maybe they’re nearby.”
“Good point, right then, so 50 plasma charges, 3 dozen fragmentation grenades think I saw them somewhere around here. Hmm right, ok ahh got them. Here they are.
Fusion cocked his rifle.
“’Streakkkk , get them loaded they’ve found the guards we killed.”
A siren started to wail.
“’Streak we’re gonna have to make a break for it, they’re coming this way. You make a dash for it, Prime needs those bombs. I’ve got your back.
The pair transformed.
Fusion burst through the door and as soon as he was spotted started firing, while Bluestreak shot away at full speed.
The real tragedy was that they’d almost made it. There had been a long hard fight practically all the way from the Decepticon ammo dump back to the Autobot frontlines. They had fought and hid and ultimately fled along the confusion of the road network playing a deadly game of cat and mouse. Fusion covering my back giving me the chance I needed.
Fusion was tough but he’d never been fast. There was always a need to compromise between speed and armour protection. The armour was what allowed Fusion to keep on surviving blast after blast to keep on keeping me alive. The armour was ultimately what killed Fusion that and the gaping hole blasted in the expressway.
He’d known he couldn’t make that jump. In training he’d always got top marks in the live fire exercises but come consistently in the bottom third getting round the assault course. He’d slowed down, attracted the Cons wrath, all so I’d get away.
Bluestreak removed his hand from the memorial. Fusion I never really had time to mourn you. As soon as the bombs were delivered it was on to the next mission. Then there was the mission after that. More deaths, more comrades gone forever, more empty spaces round the squad table. More names that people just stopped talking about.
The war just kept grinding on, onward, upward striving for that elusive final victory. A grinder that spat out dead bodies and mechs broken in body or soul. Bluestreak moved on slowly scanning the wall. He paused again ahhhh, Bullseye poor, poor Bullseye........
END OF LINE
Voting will remain open until the 15th of March.
And now, roll on March. Omega Prime, who won February's voting has chosen the new torture topic for-
A quick story on any of the characters in their final moments, canonical or not. All continuities welcome.
Now go! We've provided the theme, you provide the rest!
The Fine Print
1. Completed pieces must be returned to firstname.lastname@example.org no later than 6:00pm Australian Eastern Standard Time on, 30th of March 2012.
2. Stories must be in either .doc or .txt format.
3. Stories must be no longer than 800 words long.
4. The title of your story and one-sentence synopsis do not count toward your word limit.
5. I use Microsoft Word for the word count. If Word says the count is over, it's over. I will not hand count any more entries.
6. If you have italics or bolds within your story you must send it BBCode that way. I copy and paste and unless it is coded it does not carry over.
|Paragraph with text that is [b]bolded[/b] and [i]italicized[/i]|
7. Files are to have the following naming convention; Entrant name (Cybertron's Core username) - Story Title. [I.E. Novastorm-Hardware]
8. Stories ARE NOT to be displayed anywhere until they have been posted on the Cybertron's Core forums. After this, you are free to pimp your work anywhere you like.
9. All emails to email@example.com will receive a reply confirmation within 48 hours. If you have not heard back from me after 48 hours, please re-send the entry. I would rather receive it 20 times than miss it!
10. In case of a tie at the end of the voting period, I will cast the deciding vote. In the case I am involved in the tie, I will not vote for myself.
11. Slash entries will not be accepted.
Jan- The End and the Beginning (4 entries)
Feb- Shortage (6)
March- Jazz Party (2)
April- Technology VS Nature (2)
May- Mini-Mayhem (4)
June -Romance (3)
July- The Meaning of Life (2)
August- Whispers of a coming War (1)
September- Cliffjumper (4)
October- V is for Vendetta (2)
November- War's End (2)
December- Failure (2)
January- Upgraded (2)
February- My Brother Standing Next To Me (3)