monst

[bigeloo]

The 2 vermilion generals are either trans or gnc

that's it, that's the post

[chief-justice-tyrese]

I like this chapter from one of my ongoing projects, so I’m going to post it under the cut because that’s the kind of nonsense I can come up with when I’m in a really good mood.

Some of the dialogue is NSFW. And these guys are the same ones from Drift mini-series, in case you’re wondering. I just like writing continuity crossovers like this because I’m always entertained by the “What ifs?”

   Not too far off were the organic alien traders that Deathsaurus had arranged to deal with, aboard their own ship. They were large creatures, roughly the same size of an average Cybertronian. They had lilac-colored scaly skin and olive-colored frills, as well as large pointy teeth.

   Like the rest of their species, they were obsessed with body modification, to the point that many of them had additional appendages, such as extra limbs or tails. However, this culture-wide obsession caused multiple economic collapses since they traded and sold whatever they could for more mods. Eventually, they decided to sell their mercenary services to other races. However, they had a tendency to haggle the prices of their captured fugitives that eventually everyone in that particular star-system referred to them as “The Slavers”.

   This particular crew of Slavers was reasonably sized. It was their first interaction with Cybertronians and they had heard so much about them. The Slavers' second-in-command approached his captain and said to him, “Sir, I don't mean to question your orders, but so you think that maybe we should just cancel this deal? I have a bad feeling about it.”

   “Nonsense!” replied the captain, “The payoff will be very big, you'll see!”

   “But all this effort just for a single robot?” asked the second-in-command. “It's not even the good kind of robot, it's one of those killer robots that have been at war with each other since creation.”

   “When I took on this task, I was assured the robot in question is harmless because he's weaponless,” said the captain. “We're getting at $5 trillion if we bring it back alive. Or $15 trillion if it is alive and unharmed. Do you have any idea how this would affect our home if we succeed? Our planet will no longer be the most indebted in this star-system. We will be legends! Besides, if any others happened to be deactivated along the way, then we harvest whatever parts we can.”

   Suddenly, they received a video call from Deathsaurus and the captain answered it. On the screen they saw Deathsaurus, a large fearsome blue robot with a beautiful face that had four bright vermilion eyes. His majestic disposition evoked both fear and awe, which was worsened by his attractiveness. Happy that the Slavers answered his call, Deathsaurus cleared his throat to say the universal greeting, “Bah-weep-graaaaagnah wheep nini bong!”

   “What did he say?” whispered the second-in-command, baffled by the nonsensical greeting that sounded terrifying with Deathsaurus’ voice.

   “I don’t know,” replied the captain with his hand over the microphone, “but if these ‘deformation robots’ address us as such, it means they don’t plan to kill us.” He spoke into the com, repeating the greeting while flashing a relaxed close-mouth smile.

   Delighted that the universal greeting worked, Deathsaurus said, “We are a day or so from our rendezvous point.” Deathsaurus focused the camera on the missles he planned to trade, making sure the Slavers had a good clear shot of the inventory, “I'd like to see the cargo.”

   The captain picked up his own com, asking for crew members to bring a single crate from the storage unit. Within a minute, a crew member, wearing a protective suit, arrived with a crate and opened it up to reveal the rare, pure nihonium crystals. Due to their radioactive and unpredictable nature, it was a quick viewing before closing up the crate again.

   Satisfied, Deathsaurus said, “Excellent! I can't wait! If you have any questions, please feel free to contact me. See you soon.” The video call ended and the Slavers were unable to find Deathsaurus' frequency.

   The crew member wearing the protective suit asked, “Wait, is that the $15 trillion robot? No wonder those Quintessons want him so badly. I'd shag that robot too, like damn.”

   With an awkward smile, both the captain and his second-in-command exchanged quick glances. Deathsaurus was not their target. Although there was a similar bounty for him but the payoff was much less, in comparison, due to how dangerous he was; making him more undesirable to the Quintessons – but it was still pretty generous. Their target was another Cybertronian who was much more beautiful. Only the captain and his second-in-command had seen him once before. Since then, the robot's beauty has haunted both their dreams and fantasies. They completely understood why the Quintessons were willing to pay so much for it.

   “No,” replied the second-in-command shaking his head, as he motioned for the crate to be returned to storage.

   “It’s another more beautiful robot.”

   “More beautiful?!” asked crew member, “That’s impossible! There’s no way something sexier than that blue smooth-talking space penguin could exist.”

   The captain, then showed him a photo of their true target on the screen. The crew member stared at the Cybertronian for several minutes before speaking, “Shit, man…he’s hot too. What the hell?! How is this possible?!”

   “Oh, these are their faction leaders,” said the captain as he showed them pictures of Optimus Prime and Megatron. “I don’t understand their beef though. It seemed like they were allies in overthrowing the evil regime but then turned against each other. Perhaps they couldn’t agree which one would rule their home-world and they didn’t want to rule as equals. This is what their millions of years-old war is about.”

   The crew member was in more disbelief, unable to process an adequate reply.

   The second-in-command said, “They were once domesticated by the Quintessons, who somehow thought it was a good idea to keep the weaponized traits, instead of breeding them out.”

   “These robots reproduce?” asked the crew member. “How? They don’t have any females or least I’ve never seen any, it seems like they're all males. I thought they were just made each other in automated factories.”

   With a devious smile, the captain said, “The Quintessons turned their entire species hermaphroditic with their carefully calculated experiments. They intended this to be ‘efficient’ since any two of these 'deformation robots' could mate with each other but I consider it ‘kinky’. And our target is apparently the epitome of this evolution; he is everything the Quintessons' ancestors hoped to accomplish. I know it's tempting to want to haggle a higher price for him, once we succeed, but we mustn't. Knowing how those Quintessons are, we will lose everything if we even dare."

   The crew member was more intrigued than he wanted to admit. (He was entertaining the thought of rawed by their pressurized penises but since they also had vaginas, he had no idea what he wanted to do anymore. He was overwhelmed by the options.) The captain and the second-in-command continued their conversation with the crew member, who hurried to tell the others about what he had learned.

   The Slavers had an idea of what to expect from the Cybertronians. After all, the Quintesson emissaries they spoke to, told them everything they needed to know. What they learned was that the 4 million (or was it 6 million) year-old war between the factions was entirely the Quintesson's fault. The way they programmed the Cybertronians' ancestors to have poor aim and only fire lasers at each other, it was the reason it even lasted that long besides their immortality and desire to find new ways to repair their friends.

   However, their target didn't have lasers, bullets, or bombs of any kind because he was intended to be a harmless loving pet. The Slavers were familiar with the target and “harmless” was not a word they could associate with him. In fact, much of the crew was dreading the moment they would finally come in contact with their target the so-called “loving pet”. As lovely and innocent as their target appeared to be, he had a sinister aura at times. This was the reason the sight of him haunted their dreams because one look into his doleful honey-colored eyes and they knew their mission was doomed.

   Not wanting to dwell on their hopeless situation, the Slavers decided to make another call. This time it was answered by a visor-wearing minibot with friendly blue eyes. Since the Slavers were determined to capture their target, they used all the leads they could to get closer to him. Like Deathsaurus, they also used the universal greeting on minibot.

   The minibot smiled and said, “Good, you made contact with Deathsaurus. You know the deal, you capture him and his crew for me and I will see if the chief justice will honor your request for a private conference with him.”

   “Yes, please,” said the captain, “we have much to discuss in regards to wanting protection for our home.”

   “I look forward to your success,” said the minibot, “but he warned, Deathsaurus and his crew are all formidable warriors. However, his crew has one weakness and that is their love for their leader. So if you manage to gravely injure and capture Deathsaurus, then the rest will do whatever you want if you promise to not take his life.” The minibot hung up the call.

   The second-in-command looked at his captain, who had turned pale. He could no longer hide the impending feelings of doom he felt but he was a man of his word. The last thing he would ever do was to back out of the contract. His planet desperately needed the bounty from capturing that lovely doleful-eyed mechanical devil. He muttered to himself, "The payoff will be very big, you'll see!"