Waverod's Corner Table

 "Are you a mech or a femme?" Waverod hated that question for several reasons. What did it even matter? There was no significant aspect of Cybertronian culture that hinged on the difference. It's just a different way to process information; it rarely mattered in terms of biology, let alone functions, skills, or allegiance. "Are you a mech or a femme?" These terms weren't used in the most ancient datatracks. Before contact with organic planets, there weren't really even words for the concepts. The closest you could come was something like "One who processes information in the minority way" for femme, and "One who processes information in the majority way" for mech. Even those phrases were only used incidentally, when needed to explain how someone came to a conclusion. The pre-contact Covenant of Primus uses the first of these phrases maybe five times (four times referring to Solus Prime), and the latter once. "Are you a mech or a ...

Hotlink entered her new base. Megatron had shuffled the Seeker trios yet again. I bet Starscream never loses Skywarp and Thundercracker. Well, rank has its privileges. The Emperor of Destruction did this every so often; no one knew if it was to prevent any thought of an independent cell arising from within the ranks of the Seekers, or   to see if new combinations might be more effective. "More of Megatron's screwing around. I swear, changing duty rosters is how Megatron relaxes," said the red and black 'bot walking in the door. "I'm Red Wing. Nice to meet you." "I'm Hotlink. Here's death to the Autobots!" "I'll drink to that!" said the next one through the door. He was green, with beige wings, thighs, and forearms, and black details. "I'm Corepunch. Might as well get to know each other, if we're going to be shooting Autobots together!" The next few days were pretty typical. After entering a new trio, ther...

Hauler stepped outside the chamber. "It's done. My greatest shame is no more." Ever since that day, millions of years ago, he had regretted the role he played in Megatron's creation. All the deaths are now gone. His fellow Constructicons would now remain builders rather than destroyers. Cybertron would remain in the golden age that followed the Great Expulsion. Just a few key conversations did it. Convincing Scrapper had been the key, but he'd done it. Megatron was not built. Megatron never existed. He triggered the return remote. Wheeljack greeted him as he returned to his present. "You made it safe? You succeeded?" "I did, Wheeljack. I talked with my fellow Constructicons. They understood. We did not build Megatron." "Who's Megatron?" Wheeljack's response startled me. This was the whole point of our mission. We had spent the last five years, reconstructing captured Decepticon schematics, improving them, just so I could go ba...