#commandrons

[shadowwingtronix]

Free Comic Inside> The Commandrons' Last Ride

BW Media Spotlight's Free Comic Inside takes you on The Commandrons' Last Ride

Now that the Internet Archive is again among the functional we can conclude our look at the Commandrons. For those of you who missed the first three, here’s a synopsis. Commandrons were a Tomy line that in the US was only available through McDonald’s Happy Meals, each of the four robots coming with a minicomic produced by DC Comics. On the planet Haven, which was one McDonalds the Murphy Family…

[pabsterthelobster]

The Cymond Cluster

This is a list of the many universal streams within the Cymond universal cluster (its name a reference to the Diaclone franchise that preceded Transformers, whose name comes from a merger of the words "diamond" and "cyclone"), one of the many clusters of different universes that make up the Transformers multiverse as documented by the TransTechs. The Cymond cluster mainly consists of worlds from other franchises that either precede the franchise itself, or some miscellaneous TakaraTomy franchises that are somewhat related to the franchise.

Cymond MMYY.DD - Example

Canon streams

Cymond 772.00 Beta - the Henshin Cyborg, Diakron, and Kronoform toylines

Cymond 381.00 Beta - the New Microman toyline (includes Micro Change subline)

Cymond 1184.00 Gamma - the Zoids: Starriors comic miniseries

Cymond 290.03 Alpha - the Brave Exkaiser anime

Cymond 999.04 Alpha - the Zoids: Chaotic Century anime (includes New Century sequel anime)

Possible streams

Cymond 1082.03 Alpha - the Super Dimension Fortress Macross anime (origin of Jetfire)

Cymond 1083.07 Alpha - the Special Armored Battalion Dorvack anime (origins of Autobot Deluxe Vehicles)

Cymond 384.00 Gamma - the Armored Insect Corps Beetras manga (origins of Decepticon Deluxe Insecticons)

Cymond 484.15 Alpha - the Super Dimension Cavalry Southern Cross anime (associated with Macross and Orguss as part of Super Dimension anime trilogy)

Cymond 885.22 Gamma - the Commandrons comic miniseries (Commandron faction appears in Beast Wars: Uprising; likely due to merger of original parent Tomy with Transformers parent Takara)

Cymond 493.03 Delta - the Gridman the Hyper Fighter live-action series (collaboration between Takara and Tsuburaya; God Zenon resembles Optimus Prime; includes Gridman Universe anime franchise which references Shattered Glass)

Cymond 401.06 Alpha - the Dennō Bōkenki Webdiver anime

Cymond 402.05 Alpha - the Daigunder anime

Associated via GoBots toyline (Hasbro owns GoBots after buying out Tonka)

Cymond 1083.02 Alpha - the Genesis Climber MOSPEADA anime (connected via model kits sold by Monogram)

Associated via Convertors toyline (created by Select using models by Takatoku, MARK, Gakken, and EXCITE; Maladroid faction and characters Zark and Zardak used in Transformers media, implying ownership)

Cymond 1081.06 Alpha - the J9 Series anime trilogy (consists of Galaxy Cyclone Braiger, Galactic Gale Baxingar, and Galactic Whirlwind Sasuraiger)

Cymond 783.03 Alpha - the Super Dimension Century Orguss anime

Cymond 284.03 Alpha - the Super High Speed Galvion anime

Brave series streams (robot designs reused from Transformers)

Cymond 291.02 Alpha - The Brave of the Sun Fighbird

Cymond 292.07 Alpha - The Brave of Legend Da-Garn

Cymond 193.30 Alpha - The Brave Express Might Gaine

Cymond 294.05 Alpha - The Brave Police J-Decker

Cymond 295.04 Alpha - The Brave of Gold Goldran

Cymond 296.03 Alpha - Brave Command Dagwon

Cymond 297.01 Alpha - The King of Braves GaoGaiGar (includes Betterman)

Cymond 1298.17 Kappa - The Saint of Braves Baan Gaan (coordinates drawn from Brave Saga release date)

Cymond 101.26 Kappa - the Brave Saga Astaria video game

Cymond 205.17 Kappa - Quantum Leap Layzelber (coordinates drawn from New Century Brave Wars release date)

Cymond 491.03 Alpha - the Eldran series (Tomy series that has crossed over with Brave)

Zoids series streams

Cymond 1185.09 Gamma - the Marvel UK Zoids comics

Cymond 1291.30 Alpha - the Soukou Kyoshin Z-Knight OVA

Cymond 1003.04 Alpha - the Zoids: Fuzors anime

Cymond 405.10 Alpha - the Zoids: Genesis anime

Cymond 717.07 Alpha - the Zoids: Wild anime

I'd like to thank portarmy on Twitter for inspiring this post with their own Cymond headcanons. I know I'm hardly scratching the surface on this little thought experiment of mind, but I thought it was fun to do.

[septusuki]

Once the fight is over — once a thousand and one little worlds have evaporated — there is always a winner. Even if everyone is just scraps, someone somewhere manages to make the all-important decision. The rubble is counted up, the wreckage all gathered together, and a victory is somehow rendered from the mess. But that is not my place, not my standing, not my problem to worry myself over. I come in after that.

"Command asks you to stop whistling." Commandrone always accompanies me, either whirring along on wheels, or pacing behind me on semi-biological legs. It always accompanies me, and always complains. I can't, and won't, argue, but I wish it was a bit more accommodating. I suppose it isn't Commandrone's fault, that it is so very picky — with Command arguing in it's ears at all times — but it always manages to be a spoilsport. "If I receive an important transmission, you might miss it, or mistake it." It continues to buzz on, still following a few feet behind me, and dragging our medical casket behind us. Commandrone is a walking, vacuum-packed cyan bodybag; enough to petrify anyone who isn't expecting it. Even I, with my almost-friendship with the thing, struggle to keep my calm knowing that it is only a metre behind me, looming over me with it's biomechnically boosted vertebrae.

"I need to whistle!" I protest, still walking, and talking as loud as I can. "What if there's an alive pilot, who's just a few inches from death," I begin to pontificate, purposefully on the edge of yelling. Perhaps I'm trying to rub it in, that Commandrone can't do anything to me, despite even wanting to. "and she hears me whistling? Or talking, even? She'll know that we're here!" I smile, reminding myself of how important this little task is. Med-Scav. Cleanup crew, as we're sometimes called. It's meant to be a joke, at my expense, but it doesn't feel like it. Someone has to do it, and it's more fun than Electro-Scav. Fun, perhaps, is the wrong word. It's more engaging. More rewarding. "We're here to save her! Hopefully."

Commandrone seems to go quiet at that. Maybe, just maybe, I've suggested a good idea. Maybe, I've made such an incredible suggestion, that Command is going to change our regime! I giggle, for a second, and then it speaks up again. "I will play the radio, then." With a little whirring, a hole in the packaging of Commandrone's head opens up, and a speaker pops out. It begins to play music. "Now, you can be quiet, and we can work at maximum efficiency." The music switches off and on as the drone talks, perfectly adjusted so that it doesn't interrupt even a syllable of it's deadly-important proclamations.

Even if Commandrone's dull tone has managed to shut me up, I keep a tiny little grin on my face. Bezzerone's Holiday Home begins to play, and I can't help but shake my hips as we walk. I know I'm enjoying myself too much. This work isn't supposed to be enjoyable, even by the loosest measure. I'm supposed to be as droll and dour as Commandrone itself, but sometimes I can't help it. Remembering that I do, in fact, have a job to do though, I reach into my sidepack and pick out the life-form scanner. Poking it back to life after its short hiatus, the hummer clicks on, and the radar groans to life.

"Life form detected." Commandrone beeps, as if I couldn't already have guessed from the thrumming of the radar-stick in my hands. In a single second, Commandrone pumps itself up to action-size, the hydraulics under it's bodybag-flesh clicking to attention. "Two-hundred feet. Ten O'Clock." Commandrone repeats to itself, almost ready to sprint. Finally, the drone's hips screech, as it's unoiled cogs click and clack against eachother. They howl, and then expand properly. "Preparations complete. Moving to target." Commandrone squeaks at me, as if it's a dog, begging me to let it off it's lead. We do run. I am at work, after all. I am being paid for this. Running, is the least of my worries.

As we hurry to our target, Commandrone overtakes me. Perhaps, it's excited. Perhaps, it just wants to be rid of me. With the Medicare trolley still rolling behind it, Commandrone looks for all the world like a proper soldier. A real one, with a purpose, and a goal. Unfortunately, Holiday Home stops playing, just as we get to my favourite bit. Maybe Command has a Spotify subscription it can lend us, and I can listen to the whole thing. That'd be nice, but I figure I've pushed my luck too much, already. "Commandrone, prepare to lift." I huff out my keyword instructions, watching proudly as the drone's shoulderblades puff out, into lifting mode. The bodybag that makes up it's body is tight, now; so much so that I can see the robotic musculature that makes up the precious little drone.

And then, I can see it's organs, too. I can see it's lubricant, blood, and pus. I can see everything that makes — or made — up the drone, as it is torn to shreds. In a second, Commandrone is on the floor. The instant we turned the corner into the alley where we detected a life-sign. That very instant, we were set upon. Commandrone is taken apart, and I am left with nothing to protect me. After all, Commandrone was the one with the built-in armament platform. Commandrone was my bodyguard, my supervisor, and my assistant. None of which I have, now.

"W-Woah!" I splutter, my hands up to my head in anything approximating a surrender. I don't have time for my oculars to adjust to the dimness of the alleyway, but I do have time to know that I'm thoroughly doomed. "I'm unarmed! I swear!" I gasp, still catching my breath, from the run over. "J-Just Med-Scav!" One hand gingerly searches my pockets, and reveals my MEDIC passport; the only thing that assures my safety, in these kinds of situations. Safety, against everything but a psychopath.

"Med-Scav," A distinctly feminine voice repeats me. She doesn't sound disappointed, for one; just grimly determined. "You're lucky that you're not Electro." She swallows, and there is a flash of light as she lowers her gun. The same gun that lowered Commandrone to the floor, seconds ago. "You may approach." Like I've just entered a royal court, I am bidden to enter.

My eyes adjust, once I'm a metre or two into the alley. I figure out the situation immediately; it's not a challenge, after all. One pilot — an enemy — is holding another pilot by her hair, and dangling her, just a few inches off of the floor. She used our ally's life-sign to summon us, and then tripped her trap. "What...?" The enemies had been reported dead. Extinguished, by the bloodier clean up crew, that came an hour before me. Clearly, they missed one. My arms are up, again.

"Medic," dropping our allied pilot to the floor with a wet, bloody thunk, this red-dappled enemy keeps her gun trained on her, even as she stops wriggling. "I need your assistance. You will accompany me, or die resisting." She starts to prowl about the alleyway, rolling her shoulders and picking glass-fragments out of her peach-red plugsuit. Every movement seems to hurt her, but she persists nonetheless.

"Accompany you?" I approach the downed pilot, and check for life signs. None, unsurprisingly. This is Electro-Scav's job, now. Turning my focus to the problem at hand, I figure out what this enemy wants, without a hitch. "I don't think I'm allowed to help enemy pilots. Especially not two of them."

From the half-darkness of the alley, she points her gun at my face, once again. "You aren't being given a choice." I'm shocked, slightly, that this pilot's vocal chords aren't cropped. From the full-function of her brain, it seems nothing has been cropped. No lobotomy, no training. This is a woman, not a pilot. Something in the back of my own brain grins, as it computes the only conclusion; the dissident nation is desperate. My more empathetic engrams fixate on the pilot's plugsuit. I can see her ID, even from here. When someone has a gun in your face, it's easy to see a lot of them. 4X-TR.

"Attraxia." I make a guess at her given name. They jumbled it up a bit, but not quite enough. Judging from the anger flashing across her face, I'm spot on. "Okay, I'll join you." Even with that tiny step-up, though, Attraxia is still holding her cockpit-pistol to my face. I am still utterly beholden to whatever she decrees. If she says Help, I don't think I have a choice. "Just," my eyes drift over to Commandrone's corpse, laying a few metres away. Its bodysuit is beginning to grow baggy, as the internal systems decay and collapse. "Just let me check the drone, Okay? I... I gave it my lunchbox."

[askvectorprime]

Does spark-splicing actually exist anywhere in the multiverse?

Dear Searching Spark,

It does indeed. The Builders of Cybertron would carefully graft together the sparks of promising Maximals and Predacons together to create new ones, as a way of trying to bypass relying on the Terran Energon Matrix. The Maximal Windrazor, for instance, had his spark created through grafting fragments of the spark belonging to Dive Bomb, a veteran of the games, together with that of Phantomjaw, a member of the Predacon Secret Police. However, the practice never really caught on, as it required an enormous amount of energon.

After the Grand Uprising, it found new uses—first to create new Maximal and Predacon protoforms, and then in the development of Commandron and Maladroid mind-engrams. In the former case, two members of the Maximal High Council, long having been in love, decided to use spark splicing to help bring it into a newly manifest form. Two members of the Maximal High Council, long having been in love, decided to use spark splicing to help bring it into a newly manifest form. The resultant protoform, Tigerhawk, was the first protoform created on post-Uprising Cybertron, and was seen as a symbol of the newfound unity.

Unfortunately, even this peace couldn't last, and during the Second Vehicon Apocalypse, Tigerhawk found himself pressed into battle. He became a hero, and mourned the loss of his father.

[1980sactionfigures]

Commander Magna - Commandrons (Tomy)

[simfur]

Great value village finds today! The three little guys I've identified as "commandrons," which were a small line of transforming vehicle robots made by Tomy in 1985... not something I ever expected to find in a value village. Haven't identified the shiny guys yet, they say "LEADER SHINE 1995" on the back, which I think is a knockoff maker? Any help would be much appreciated. Theyre flaking to all shit but I think it looks cool here.

[tallus76-photography]

The real enforcements from McDonalds on Cybertron.

MCDONALD'S 1985 COMMANDRONS

[convoy914]

Okay, so, RWBY/Hasbro Universe/RT Universe concepts:

The Transformers are still aliens who instead of finding Earth, find Remnant. Same for Rom and the Micronauts. Remnant itself is much the same, but with a few additions…

Delta Six is an international strike force formed from the Vytal Pact, Cobra is a religious cult turned terrorist organization who view themselves as the successors to Old Mantle and Mistral (The God they were formed in honor of before the latest Commander reforged them; Koh-Buru-Lah, may actually be real. There’s more than JUST the Two Brothers, after all…)

M.A.S.K. is an Atlas project, V.E.N.O.M. are secret Cobra agents who infiltrated it

The Action Hunter is Mistral’s one person answer to Delta Six

Jem and the Holograms (also the Misfits, the Stingers, etc) are a band from Vale

Prysmos was a city time tossed from the First Age (where everyone had magic, remember. The Local King Merklynn doesn’t like this new technological world)

The Inhumanoids were the Gods’s first attempt at collaborating (they can relate to the Grimm’s feelings of abandonment by their creators)

Also: Atlas has a Simulation Trooper program run itself by a secret research project, and rivaled by a corporate/political mix thing as well

An ancient Nomad from well before even Ozma and Salem’s era resurfaces and the dream city of Maktaba somehow becomes reality-in a sense

Summer camps on a chain of islands prove…an interesting experience, & taking the Paladin project even further to just a mind in the machine is being researched, tho the original abusive prick in charge was fired. Sorry, it’s just Season 2 hasn’t come out yet so my Moral OCD needs reassurance

As for more general plot ideas, here’s some I’ve thought up already:

Baron Karza forms an alliance with Atlas/Ironwood

The Dire Wraiths have a sort of alliance with Salem. She also has secret talons in Cobra.

Cybertron & The Pony Dimensions were both created by associates of the Brother Gods. Said Brother Gods are also remnants of the One, tho the god forms of Primus and Unicron also exist here

And because I’m me, GoBots, Robotix, Xevoz, Air Raiders, Rock Lords, Battle Beasts, Sectaurs, Starriors/Commandrons/Converters, all of these kinds of other Hasbro Properties as alien powers and all. Speaking of, other hostile powers include the Intruder Empire, the Sangheili, and so on

(Yeah so this is separate from my strictly RWBY/Transformers thing (the G1/IDW/Aligned one anyhow), where I had it that the Two Brothers were the ones who created Cybertron as well. In this universe I’m thinking they’re sort of like cosmic counterparts to the ones that did, or something)

[vo-kopen]

Wrote a little Trans-Mutate fic

It takes place around the time Hatchet wrote “Lio Convoy: Unity through Tyranny.” So about ten thousand years after the Grand Uprising ended. It’s mostly just a little bottle episode, with Trans-Mutate, Rampage, a young Dinobot, and a really wizened old crab telling the three of them a story. Kind of a melancholy story about the collapse of a society, and grief.

And then in like the last few pages — random attack by an evil Commandron experiment - a hybrid clone made of the combined CNA of Trans-Mutate, Rampage, Lio Convoy, and Grimlock. He just randomly shows up, mostly because I wanted to insert him. (For reference he looks like the Clobber Titan Master toy, and he can create a Croctobot body for his tiny body to become the piloting head, a.k.a. it’s Titan Return Clobber on Titans Return Skullsmasher’s body) So yeah, wackiness at the end.

Tagging @jogress @akirakan and @renaroo because I liked this last I read it. There are very few spoilers for Beast Wars Uprising here, but there are some. So be wary. Rocket Plume, Monsoon, the Golobsters, the Cnidonstr, King Grimlock II, Clobber and Soar are all OC’s of varying roles, and their plots have little baring on the official BWU stories.

Anyway, here is the fic, with its current title.

Feeling Snippy?

Her fingers clawed against her metal thigh, digging into her chassis. But just as quickly as she dug her frame regenerated, her scratching was unable to gain ground. But it calmed her, the prickling of her body, her autistic brain module appreciated that. She just itched, as she sat down by the large whizzed old bot.

He was younger than her, but unlike Trans-Mutate he was not immortal. Instead his body had chipped, his arm had been lost, his eyes had been blinded, and a layer of mold covered his body. He sat peacefully, sleeping in front of her.

“We took too long to return,” she decided, switching to flicking a chain in her hands.

“Humph,” Rampage glanced at the robot, “depressing isn’t it, sister? The colony of Aquatron dies not with some great explosion nor with a ravaging battle drooling with bloodlust - but through failure to begin. No disastrous end of fire and chaotic blood, just a whimpering whine. Disgusting.”

Rampage had transformed into his Decapodian form - a crab-like mechanimal beast mode that towered above most crustaceans. But compared to the great beasts of Aquatron, he was as small as Trans-Mutate. He scuttled across the island, encircling the old bot.

Trans-Mutate was silent, before looking up at Rampage, “Should we attempt a second try, brother?”

“No, there was never enough metal to feed a colony here. There was hardly enough for thirteen colonists, never enough to fuel a city. And even if there was, it would be a city of bone and stone, no iron to work with and only a few isles to live on.”

She nodded, “Agreed. I suppose it was obvious that Aquatron was never going to flourish. But I had hoped they could have found a way to build a Spark Fountain, at least keep a small stone-aged population.”

“You sure this bot is alive?”

“His Spark still pulsates,” she answered, “he is as alive as any Cybertronian.” Then she turned away, looking at the fourth robot present. The last of them was asleep in her beast mode, she was a Dinobot, transforming into a red mechanimal taking inspiration from the pterosaurs of ancient prehistoric Earth. She sat crumpled under her wings, her spark pulsating much stronger than the rusted and cracked old bot.

“Animatron next?” Rampage muttered, changing the subject as well.

Trans-Mutate disagreed, “Dinotron. After the disappointment of Aquatron, she deserves to see a colony we seeded where life went well. Or at least one with Dinobots like her. Though there are not many like Rocket Plume.”

“She is your daughter,” Rampage shrugged with his crustacean body, then muttered, “sorry sister, that was … I apologize.”

“You are fine,” Trans-Mutate shrugged, even as her fingers cleaved through her frame, “though all the colonies we seeded are my daughters and sons. As they are your colonies too. And … I had hoped Aquatron would succeed. They reminded me of you, you know. Their bodies used so much silicon and organic matter, they seemed less like robots and more like organic aliens pretending to be Transformers.”

“You think me an alien?” He laughed.

“No, I got off topic. I was focused on their beastly forms and the fact that when we had left orbit many of them had taken crustacean forms as you do.”

“Eh,” he grunted, “just a bit more of me went into them. They needed aquatic savagery to survive on this barrier flooded rock, I offered that to them. Their Sparks just drew from that nature.” Trans-Mutate nodded.

The island was a black rocky expanse, red embers glowing on the fringes. It was a new island, born of volcanic eruption, it had not been there when they had seeded Aquatron over ten thousand years ago. Lichen mostly covered the patches of cooler stone, the occasional fern and moss sprinkled between. Tiny crab like beasts scuttled across the hard jagged land, some pausing to nibble on fish caught in pools when the waves crashed them onto the island.

“What have you seen through the eyes of your twin?” Rampage asked suddenly, stretching as he grew impatient. In response Trans-Mutate closed her eyes, remembering.

“Clobber and her friend Soar have returned to Chicxulania, they have found it recovered from the Cyber-Chicxulania War, clearer heads taken over. The Dinobots and Raptoricons of the planet still flourish, along with some immigrant Terrorcons. The colony has built nomadic techno-organic ships, and now travel across colonies in their star cluster, as well as science vessels exploring the reaches of deep space. They still return every hundred years to the Spark Fountain, but now some Primal Convoys are building new fountains on other planets, which has created a religious schism.”

“Humph. War?”

“Not yet. But. Clobber is glad she is there to help negotiate between both sides, she believes she can at least attempt to keep the planets calm.”

“She has more of your spark than anyone, she will succeed,” Rampage decided.

“…Are you glad to have avoided Cybertron these millenniums?”

“Eternally so,” he answered simply.

“I understand,” Trans-Mutate nodded, “I … there is too much cruelty back home. It may have changed but—”

“Cybertron doesn’t change much,” he huffed, snapping his claw as it shred the air, “if it isn’t Builders building an plague that converts all life into monstrous spark-less lifeless drones—”

“It’s monsters like Deluge experimenting on protoforms to create beings like us,” Trans-Mutate nodded, “no matter how many die from his abuse.” Her chain now whirling in her fingers, while her other hand clawed into her chassis.

There was silence, it lasted minutes. And then there was a creak, like a rusted door forced open. Immediately Trans-Mutate put her chain away and walked to Rocket Plume, and lightly squeezed her shoulder.

“Wake up,” Trans-Mutate asked her daughter, “the bot stirs.”

In a blast Rocket Plume sprang up, flung by the shock of waking up. She landed into two separate forms, a small robot and a jet. Both housed her spark and her consciousness, and the robot could also transform into a head, and possess a corpse, organic or mechanical.

As she steadied, Rocket Plume recombined into her Dinobot mode. She rubbed her leathery wings, calming herself, before stretching. “Sorry mom, I just dosed. Wait, he’s waking? Awesome!” She flew forward, landing besides him.

“What … a … strange … creature,” the ancient bot managed, looking at Rocket Plume, creaking his claw of a hand towards her, “…nothing …. like … the … beasts … of … this … planet … Please … who … are … you?”

“We were the ones who seeded this planet,” Trans-Mutate answered, “what happened here after we departed?”

“Chaos … savagery … a war,” the bot answered, “I am … Monsoon. I am … relieved … I was … not sure … you would … come before … my Spark gave out.” His words grew stronger, as he gained more practice and steam in momentum.

“When you awoke the … Thirteen Ancestors, they first were … divided, unallied, lost. They knew of the … Prophecy, all of them could … read it upon awakening from their deep slumber, but they … were divided. Friendships existed, but there was no … no unity between them. They knew only … apathy towards each other..”

“But as the beasts grew more dangerous … their hostility towards the Thirteen growing as we explored … their oceans. Soon the Thirteen were forced to ally … work together to survive.”

“A century passed, and the Thirteen had built tools of bone, stone, and shells. They … used this to build great two-hulled ships, as well as to build homes and something like … farms. But it was not enough. They still gained injuries, and they aged the whole time … they feared collapsing from their wounds. So they began to build the Fountain, before they would fail to fulfill their destiny given to them by you.”

Trans-Mutate glanced to Rampage. Information Creep. It was a condition that affected many Cybertronians, their memories distorting and being reinterpreted as they aged. It led to truth being lost, and data being twisted with the eons. Regardless, Monsoon continued.

“Seven of them changed their bodies to have the beast modes of jellyfish, letting them descend to the depths, and scavenge rock and molten ore. Metal was pulled to the surface, while the rest used their crustacean pincers to grasp and mold the metal to forge tools. Through this unity, the Thirteen built the Spark Fountain of Aquatron, and around it they built the Ocean City.”

“A thousand years passed, and Aquatron became a colony of three thousand people. The jellyfish continued to mine the resources to build crude chassises, while the crustaceans constructed the bodies for the next generation. The Thirteen by then had passed away, their sparks spent charging the Fountain, and instead we their descendants ruled. I was a Golobster, one of the great craftsmen who lived on the islands and the shores. Below us lived the Cnidonstr, the miners and deep sea explorers. With these two castes we existed, building grander homes and greater tools in the ‘twin’ cities of Ocean City and Hydratron. Though … I suppose Ocean was really the greatest of the two.”

“The Cnidonstr were slaves?” Trans-Mutate looked at him.

“No,” Monsoon shook his head, and then he paused, “but yes. Their work required them to fight dangerous territorial beasts in the deep, as well as the strain of both to dig and to haul ore to the surface. We Golobsters mostly kept to the shallows, away from leviathan beasts and terrible creatures. And we kept the bulk of the metal we received, using what they might have needed for artwork, or just holding it in reverse for future repairs of expansion.” His voice dropped off there, as he looked away from the three of them.

“We were once slaves,” Trans-Mutate said simply, “our creators had us fight for their entertainment, experimented on bots like us for curiosity’s sake, tortured those of us who fought back. It led to a Grand Uprising, with monsters on all sides. Did this happen here?” Rampage at this point growled slightly, crossing his arms. Rocket Plume on the other hand had darted her eyes to Trans-Mutate, before returning her gaze to Monsoon.

“You were…? I … we have failed you in more ways than one I see,” he managed, looking down at the lichen at his feet as he caught up to her last word, “they were … we did not force them to fight to entertain us. We did not really torture. At first. I think, I was never a part of the Guild Council, I might just not know. I … I am sorry.”

Trans-Mutate nodded, looking at Rampage, “we do not mean to speak ill of you. I had been a freedom fighter, but I left after the civil war began, instead building a refuge. Rampage here became a protector, working to protect civilians from all the sides of the war. Neither is us were able to accept the cruelties my successors used. Many of us were not.” Her brother nodded, his eyes raving. He had actually fought briefly in the Grand Uprising, before leaving the Resistance out of disgust for their methods.

“You … thank you,” the Golobster sighed, “I … I have to know something.” He was talking faster, easier, his body less rusted shut.

“One day the Cnidonstr decided they should have a second Spark Fountain deep underwater. Their city of Hydratron was the most populous spot on Aquatron, it was one thing they had built instead of mined. So they felt that their home deserved it’s own Spark Fountain. They … they deserved it didn’t they? They did the worst of the mining, and if they had their own Fountain they would not need to drag onto land so often, an environment they were not adapted to. They deserved it didn’t they?”

“Probably,” Rampage spat.

Trans-Mutate nodded slightly, “could you have afforded a second Spark Fountain?”

“Yes we … I think we could have. Resources would have been tight for a few years, but we could have. But my people said no. I said no. The resources to make a new one should go to new bodies, new homes, new tools. The Cnidonstr disagreed, and began to build one in the depths where we did not venture.”

“What did you do?” Rocket Plume asked as she hopped and flew across the island, her wing-arms beating wildly as she skirted about.

“…When we realized why our shipments or ore were smaller than before, we sent a few of the Ocean City Guard to end construction. Things escalated, I do not know how, and three guards ended up dead, the rest fleeing. The Cnidonstr were used to physical labor, fighting beasts. Our guard did not. And so when we learned we … were incited. And so we took all our unused metal, and began to use the Fountain on mass.”

“We called them the MTO, Made to Order. Their bodies were uniform, bland - not decorated like us older Golobsters. And we sent them down, ravaging Hydratron. We … many of us did not know what happened, only that a supposed violent uprising was put down. Stormsong and Ripraw were heralded as heroes for their valor. We did not … we did not know how many they killed, only that Stormsong was put in charge of the MTO, and Ripraw was declared governor of Hydratron.”

“Life didn’t change for Ocean City much. We got more ore, made more bodies, more craft. Stormsong built a great fort by the city, the MTO kept being made along with Golobsters and the Cnidonstr - but other than that not much changed.”

“Hydratron?”

“I … it might be possible they became slaves,” he trailed off, his gaze now firmly fixated on a particularly vibrant patch of moss.

Trans-Mutate glared at this, as he continued, “they continued to build their Fountain in secret, we never found when we … conquered them. The amount of ore they used was tiny, barely enough to work. But sympathetic Golobsters and a few Cnidonstr with higher privilege under Ripraw, worked for two thousand years, until they were able to activate their Fountain. And then they built an army of MTO.”

“They started out as guerrilla fighters, ambushing the guard, burning outposts. As they stole metal and … corpses, corpses of every bot they killed they … they were able to build a greater army. Until they overthrew Ripraw, and installed Hurricane Hunter as Queen of Hydratron, and then all metal they mined went into building a greater force, until they traveled to Ocean City.”

“For one hundred and sixty seven years the war rocked Aquatron, as many bots died as were built. The corpses were built into new troops, some of us were disturbed and fled. But enough remained. Both cities were destroyed by the raging MTO, and the Spark Fountains too.”

“…Then, nature just took over. Ate up our cities, our villages, overgrew our homes, buried the ruins in lava. Those of us who lived just … ran. I do not know if any other Aquatronians still live.”

Trans-Mutate glared at him, as Rampage flexed his pincers. Finally she said, “We only detected you. Either the others are too deep underwater to find, or you are the last of your colony.”

Trans-Mutate had begun to shake, her fingers drilling into her thigh much more aggressively than before. She couldn’t even smell the long spilt mech fluid, she couldn’t see the corpses, all she could see was a clean slate, like this Civil War had never occurred.

“The MTO?” Rocket Plume asked, tilting her beak curiously, “what did they do?”

“I don’t know. When I dared to come back all I found were the … the bodies, all of them infested with algae and rusted apart. The MTO had vanished, as far as I could see they had just diapered from Aquatron.”

Rampage transformed into his hulking robot form, towering over Monsoon. He snarled, before Rocket Plume leapt between them. “Come on uncle,” she said, “he’s already dead.”

“Humph,” he grunted, then looking at Trans-Mutate, “rejected?”

“We are leaving now,” she said simply, stomping softly away, returning back to the small ship. The Arclight glowed as she approached, before its hull opened. She walked inside, the other two following on after.

Rocket Plume split off into her room, as Trans-Mutate sighed. “Five colonies destroyed. There are tens of thousands we have yet to check but it is … the earliest ones all collapsed upon themselves. They were not all perfect choices to seed but I had hoped…”

“Agreed. Disgusting. Dancitron’s society decays and rusts as their rulers just hide among the arts, Technotron was destroyed by humanity for the sake of pettiness, a repeat of Magmatron’s tragedy, but unlike Magmatron there are no colonists to save and move to another colony.” Trans-Mutate could only nod. The three of them had luckily been close by, they had scooped the Rock Lords from their bombed planet, and then had placed them on the colony of Arduria.

Microtron was luckier, though it was was destroyed by a passing black hole, the survivors fled in generation ships. But Flametron died before it could begin, and Aquatron now decayed into a cannibalizing civil war - all utter chaotic ends. Microtron was salvageable but—"

“I cannot lay her to rest on a destroyed planet,” Trans-Mutate muttered, punching the ship’s wall. It dented from the blow, and she sat down, clawing her sides.

“The three of us seeded these worlds, using our very Sparks to create new life, only to find for each world we return to is consumed by destruction and extinction,” Trabs-Mutate picked at her chassis, “Wedge Shape deserves a better place to rest than these failures.”

“Dinotron then? Or Pax?”

“I’m too worried to find out what happened to Pax while we were gone,” Trans-Mutate sighed, “I do not want to see Dinosaur City in flames, find Crashbash dead and the first Spark Fountain destroyed. And it would be, too many millennia have passed since we departed Cybertronian Space, things would have changed. But we will still need to check there soon. For now I promised Rocket Plume we would go next to Dinotron, so we will.”

Rampage nodded, before grasping her hand. “Do not fear sister, we will find a good place to lay her to rest, even if we must store her remains on the Arclight itself.” She nodded, tried to smile, failed, and then went back to scratching.

“We should have stopped letting her seed colonies,” Trans-Mutate muttered, “the strain on her spark, after nine thousand nine hundred and thirty six years of work, it was going to kill her, it always was, why did I let her continue?”

“Because you had faith in her.”

“I know,” Trans-Mutate signed, “I know. And she lasted far longer than most bots. I just … one of these colonies we seeded has to have endured. They have to have. She deserves to sleep with her children.”

“She will. I vow this.”

“ Thank you brother,” Trans-Mutate smiled weakly, before Rampage lumbered away, and she went back to sitting alone…

Boom.

The Arclight shook as a sudden explosion rocked its hull. There was a scream outside, but by then Trans-Mutate was already moving. In a leap she transformed her body into her motorcycle mode, while her head separating to transform into a very small rider. With a rev of her motor she blasted out of the ship, skidding to a halt as she reached the send, seeing Monsoon fall to his knees, a blue and green fluid oozing out of him.

In front of him waded an Alloygator, an odd sight for some place for somewhere so far from Cybertron. The green and magenta Mechanimal was chomping down on Monsoon’s arm, shredding it to shards of blue coral and silicon. The beast almost seemed to chuckl deeply, while Monsoon was only gasping, unable to speak

And then the Alloygator transformed. It twisted, tail separated from the body and transformed into a spiky rifle, while his leg shifted out of his torso, his reptilian head flipped back, and a small robot crawled out of his body and onto his shoulders. The tiny bot immediately transformed into the new larger robot’s head, while his forelimbs retracted their claws and grew hands. Picking up his rifle from the black rocky isle he cocked it, as Trans-Mutate transformed herself.

“Trans-Mutate?” He said, staring at her, his eyes widening, even as Rampage charged out, slamming his fist into the newcomer. The bot stumbled, chunks of his body cracking from the blow. And then with a hiss his body repaired itself, melding like liquid metal.

“Rampage?” The stranger bot stared, then forced himself to begin to chuckle again, “I … I would have thought the two of you died ages ago. Ha, this is glorious. This is difficult to believe, and you are still so mobile as well. I am quite impressed, for forgotten relics, you still shine with youth. Wondrous, simply wondrous — ha what a wonderful arrival!”

“Who are you?” Trans-Mutate asked, as she heard Rocket Plume poking her beak around the door. She shifted to block the view of her daughter, staring the beast down.

“Oh my origin, it is tied to your work. You two left plenty of your CNA on the planets you seeded, and in the colonists. Though you are clearly strong, you used such an imperfect way of creating life, the Spark Fountains are obsolete by millennia, that the planets you seeded were diluted from your wondrous power. And so much of those colonies were destroyed, and a few were lost, and the rest were found. And from the shards of you left on those rocks, I was born.”

“…An experiment?” Rampage flared, “who built you—”

“Grimlock, Lio Convoy, Trans-Mutate, and Rampage, all your attributes went into me,” he stepped forward, “an attempt by the Commadrons to create a one bot colony. I would be sent on a probe to a planet, my Spark would let me to survive any damage, and my Energon Matrix would allow me to seed it with Cybertronian life, a proper colony. A nice little settlement, with only one worker and one cheap ship needed to colonize it”

“Why are you here?”

“Because I did not enjoy the life of a slave,” the strange hybrid gestured with his bulky rifle, “I wanted respect, glory, the admiration of the thousands - to be hailed and known to be a champion — ha! The Predacon Manifesto still has readers in my time. And so I took it and made it my own, building myself a proper beastly body to link too, and building an army of servants.”

“Cybertron?” Trans-Mutate was eyeing the bot, she might be able to handle him. She could see the pulsating green spark in his chest, a Point One Percenter like her and Rampage. But there was another light too, something strange and powerful. Perhaps he did have an Energon Matrix.

“Ah, no she still stands,” he grinned, then scowled, “sadly not under my rule. I was exiled - cut from my transtector, sealed in a prison of inert plastic, dropped into deep space. It took millennia to crash into an asteroid and to reform my body, and since then I have drifted through space, steering, ever steering towards the closet Colony that was mined to make me - Aquatron. I had centuries to go, but wondrous fate intervened, and then I stumbled onto the trail of your ship, freeing me to arrive in hours what would have taken centuries.”

“Mined?” Trans-Mutate de-retracted her blades from her forearms, “how was Aquatron mined?”

“When it was discovered, the only resource were bands of savages, battling across the oceans, no other colonists alive. Those nearly feral barbarian survivors were brought to Cybertron, some to serve as they would attempt to me, some to be dissected to make me. Disgusting, but necessary to weed out the imperfections in their sparks, I am not surprised their world collapsed, unlike me their sparks were diluted, not as pure, their bodies made of rock not techno-organic metal — they were doomed from. ”

This time Trans-Mutate punched him, slamming her fist straight into his transtector’s spark. He gasped, staggering back, even as his chest slowly began to remold. He was unsteady, even as Monsoon’s body began to twitch and shake

“It’s a fight you both want then?” the bot snarled, his hand glowing, “fine. Then face me - King Grimlock II, destined king of worlds, and face my army!” Immediately Monsoon lurched, reformatting and twisting into a strange Alloygator-like beast.

“You monster, twisting bots into a savage excuse for a Vehicon!” Rampage roared, swinging his claw into Monsoon, sending the former Golobster flying. Monsoon staggered upright shakily, before transforming into a bot similar to Grimlock II, only navy blue and like green. He lurched forward, even as his master was tackled by Trans-Mutate, her blades ripping at his head.

“Ah, such fire. Thank you for passing it on to me,” Grimlock II snarled, knocking her off him with a swing of his spiky rifle. Immediately he fired on her, sending bursts of plasma at her. She swerved, leapt and dodged underneath, even as she activated her comms.

“Rocket Plume, do not—”

Rocket Plume burst out of the ship, scratching her claws against Grimlock as she blasted bast. He snarled, aiming at her, and Trans-Mutate’s spark beat frantically. She charged him with all speed, slicing his head momentarily off his “transtector.”

“Rocket Plume, you need to fly the Arclight to Cybertronian Space, get help.”

“What?”

“This monster cannot be allowed to fly off planet. And we need to warn Cybertron, flawed as they are.” Rocket Plume nodded, charged to the ship. She nearly was upon it, just as it shattered with explosive force as a bullet. The Arclight fell to pieces, Rocket Plume arcing away. As she swooped back the pieces began to tremble, and then they started to bend.

“I may regret this later,” Grimlock II snarled drooling out acid, and then covered his anger with a bombastic laugh, “ha! No, I know I will. But for now, I need an army.” The Arclight twisted and reformatted, converting into scores of Alloygators, each with their own spark. Trans-Mutate backed up besides Rampage, Rocket Plume on her shoulder. As the family held back to back, the army transformed into more drones, each encircling the group.

“This will … not be ideal,” Trans-Mutate decided, even as she glanced her eye onto Wedge Shape’s urn, it was made of a clay substance and bone, so it was still unconverted. She could be saved, and laid to rest some other day yet to come. But in the meantime Trans-Mutate’s hands tightened, before she flexed, ready to shred into the horde of reptilian machines.

“Yes, now you see, though you two are strong, you have no hope of defeating me, the Beastly King - born of the champions of the Grand Uprising. And now I declare, my new army - go forth and attack!” King Grimlock II laughed, before he himself charged, brandishing his rifle as a club, while his army did the same. The trio tensed, and then as the legions fell upon them the family leapt, united to defeat the horde.

[ygofriendship123]

Requesting screencaps of Blue Girl, Blood Shepherd, Ghost Girl, Altergeist Kunquery, Altergeist Marionetter, Drone Token, Battledrone General, Altergeist Multifaker, Altergeist Hexstia, Altergeist Fifinellag, Altergeist Dragviron, Drone Corporal, Drone Carrier, Commandrone Double Sniper, and Blue Maiden?

Yeap I can do that for you!

[shadowwingtronix]

Free Comic Inside> Commandrons Versus Some Knockoffs

BW Media Spotlight's Free Comic Inside returns to McDonald's and the planet Havon to see Commandrons Versus Some Knockoffs

It’s time to return to the McDonalds transforming Happy Meal toys nobody remembers, or rather their DC Comic minicomic pack-ins. For those of you new to the Commandrons, they were a quartet of toys created by Tomy. In the US McDonalds snagged these would-be Transformer rip-offs for their Happy Meals, though elsewhere they were released on store shelves without the minicomics and would also be…

[buythistoy]

#マクドナルド #トミー #コマンドロンズ 全4種セット #McDonald's #TOMY #COMMANDRONS w/DC Comic 1985 MOC #TRANSFORMERS #トランスフォーマー #トランスフォーマー買取 #おもちゃ買取 #フィギュア買取 #アメトイ買取 #vintagetoys #中野ブロードウェイ #NakanoBroadway #ロボットロボット #ROBOTROBOT #アクションフィギュア買取 #WeBuyToys https://ift.tt/2RnSOwI

[vlampomeister957]

Just Pinned to Transformers: This past weekends Yard Sale success. Damn Commandrons... Happy about Hulk Transformer tho! http://ift.tt/2g56lJx

[askvectorprime]

Were there any timelines where Cybertronians made First Contact with one of the ofshoot branches of humanity from "All Tomorrows"?

Dear Evolution Enthusiast,

In some highly divergent realities, the Commandrons who inhabited that far-future era adopted organic alternate modes based on these strange post-human creatures to fight back against their enemies, the Maladroids. While the Maladroids sought to destabilize these societies from within and plunder the technologically advanced ruins of the precursor races who had twisted humans into these forms, a number of Commandrons became deep cover agents, adopting new alternate modes that would allow them to move about undetected on the myriad colonies.

On a world of tropical islands and archipelagos, Ether Walker used her sail person form to match wits with Iron Fang, who chose the form of a native pterosaur-like creature. On another planet, Galaxy Questrian used a mantelope form to defeat Hypergear. On an arid planet, Deep Blue and Thunderclap posed as a highly-evolved lizard and its mindless humanoid mount to battle Helterskelter. Sonic Ronin the killer person used powerful fangs and claws to subdue both posthuman prey and the Maladroid warrior Coldstar.

Ultimately, the Commandrons were triumphant in protecting the myriad posthuman races form within; eventually, however, the destructive ascent of xenophobic, highly-evolved machine-people—not unlike the Renegades of other realities—forced the Commandrons back towards intergalactic space.

[1980sactionfigures]

Motron - Commandrons (Tomy)

[thelastgherkin]

Welcome back to It Came from the Back of the Toybox, a segment where I take a look at the unknown, underrated, and unheard-of convertible robots in my collection!

Ah, McDonald’s Happy Meal toys.  When I was growing up, there were always cool things like Toy Story action figures or Snoopys with interchangeable heads or Digimon plushies.  But as I got older, the toys seemed to get crappier.  Do you know what you can get in a Happy Meal today?  A voucher for a book!  There was none of this intellectual namby-pambyism in my day I tell you what.

At the other end of this imagined f(x) = 1/x of quality come Happy Meal toys from the mid-80s.  I’m sure there were absolute turkeys we never get to hear about, but this was also a time where your free premium could be the same quality as a toy from a shelf.  There were promotions for Playmobil figures and Hot Wheels cars.  It was mad.

One such off-the-shelf promotion was Tomy’s Commandrons line.  This line of small toy robots was first released in 1985 boxed up.  Later, the McDonald’s versions, free with a Happy Meal, came on blister packs with one of a selection of DC comics!  Talk about value for money.  (Later still, in 1986, they were re-released as Super Alternators.)

Each Commandron was about the size of a GoBot, converting in two or three steps.  While two of them were Earth vehicles - an F-15 and a LeMans racer - the other two were more nebulous alien vehicles described as a UFO and a drill.  The line was united in its uniform red, white and blue colour scheme, and they all featured a pull-back-and-go motor that worked in both modes.

Above you see Solardyn, one of a string of toys repurposed as Alpha Trion during my childhood, despite absolutely no physical resemblance.  With his claw hands and sticker face, I’d already decided he looked less humanoid than some of my Transformers - if only I’d known about Commander Magna, the good old nosecone face!

But this wouldn’t be the last time McDonald’s entered the convertible robot market…