Hey all:

So, thanks to some rekindled interest from folks here, I'm dipping my toe back into the concept of our "TF Fanfic Reading Club", where we periodically post and share vintage TF fics from long ago.

As I mentioned in another thread this week, I'm very glad to have collected and saved so many of these stories over the past two decades: a lot of the early stuff is objectively really great, and many of these writers are no longer with us, in one capacity or another.

What I am sharing today is a test case, actually - one of the shortest and - to me - most powerful excerpts from one of my very favorite TF fics: the epic, sprawling, and incredibly dense "Andraxus" novella by Australian fan Belinda Kelly, who wrote a lot of very unique Decepticon fanfic in the 1990s. Her writing feels, to me, like the literary equal to a dark German forest for the mind: dense, atmospheric, and full of symbolism and imagery. The tone is unlike anything else I've ever read in a fanfic context.

The context: The "Andraxus" series imagines a Decepticon empire of the far-flung future: about eight thousand years in the future, in fact, with leaders and other key Decepticons spread across the Sol system and beyond. A big part of the story is about filling in the gaps between now and then: what happened to the Autobots, what happened to the humans, and other questions. It also imagines the good and the bad of an empire of this sort this far past the years of struggle and conquest that defined it.

It's a dark and dense kind of writing, and it is best appreciated in small doses, but the end result is truly remarkable as a piece of *writing* on its own, and a story that still brings me vivid memories two decades later. The entire thing is about 300 pages, and each chapter is narrated from the specific perspective of a Decepticon.

Below - part 3 - is a favorite of mine for its feel and style. Each part is self-contained, so it's not really a spoiler to post them out of order. The first couple of parts are more abstract, and can be a bit of a slog if you're not acclimated to Belinda's style, so I wanted to test the waters with this self-contained piece first. If folks like it, I can post the rest.

(FYI, Belinda and I still keep in touch via FB; she's not active in the fandom anymore, but remains proud of her achievements here).

Enjoy! Also, apologies if the formatting is weird - this is pulled from a VERY old text file on an even older floppy disc at home.

JB

===
SOUNDWAVE, LORD OF THE RING WORLDS
(Part of the "Andraxus" novella)
By Belinda Kelly, ca. 1999

Part 1
He awoke early in the morning and went down to the river.
The muskrat traps were empty, though one had been tripped and the bait gone..
"They're getting smarter every year." he thought, and reset the trap. He dug his toes into the frozen mud and watched a
while as the day grew and shadows deepened into full morning.
The water was ice-cold from the snow-melts, and it flowed deep and clear, over glittering rocks and old half-sunk
timbers. He remembered growing up on his father's property, crouching under a fresh dawn and hunting black yabbies,
fresh-water crayfish, with raw bait hooked onto a string, dropping the clacking victims into an old Milo tin. He'd been
the one who held the can; his brother had done everything else. His brother was fifteen and had his own rifle.
He'd counted down each passing birthday until he was to turn fifteen, the polished stock of the weapon glittering
remotely on its rack in the garage, the promise firm and inviolate. But promises made were rarely kept, as he learned
continually throughout his life. When his father died, they had to move to Seattle. He never received the promised rifle,
just some socks and an electric shaver.
Now, as he looked up at slender cottonwoods that bordered the river so pale and the black oaks and cedars beyond
them, he felt a keen sense of loss for the dry scrub of his youth, where it never snowed and almost never rained. Where
the creeks ran high after the rains and spilled over the red dust, and where the wind swept the humid nights clear of
cloud, where you could see the stars. His father would point out the orbiting space stations, one by one, and would say,
boys, if you study hard you can go there one day. Walk on the moon and bring me back a rock. His father had been a
geologist, and had thousands of tiny samples, all tagged and labelled: mica, quartz, geode, granite...

Part 2
He began the long walk back along the path to his cabin, chewing on bark and grass. He picked some to add to a soup
later and went inside, blinking in the near-dark. He made his bed, and lit the gas fire for his morning coffee. The absence
of birdsong disturbed him.
"Music. I'll play some music", he thought.
He dusted off the old stereo and checked the batteries. When he attempted to play the radio, nothing happened. He
fished about in a hand-carved bowl, digging up some other batteries; with luck, he stumbled upon a combination that lit
the old LED lights once more. He wrote "batteries" on the list that he kept and ordered every month from the small
store five hours drive along the dirt-track.
He sorted through the unsorted pile of cassettes in a box, checking labels, unsure of the music that would fit his mood.
One tape attracted him in particular. It was metal, not plastic, with battered TDK stickers on a cold, chrome surface. He
flipped it over and stared at the strange symbol that had been ramped into the metal. An intricate insignia; lilac against
silver.
A nameless fear touched him. He held the tape in one hand for a few moments, sensing its familiarity, though he could
swear that he had never seen it before.
He slipped the cassette into the deck and closed the lid. His fingers patterned the dust on the deck's surface. It was
undeniably old. White and blue, but smooth and compact. He carefully brushed away at the clear plastic cover, noting
another similar purple pattern marking it like a brand, except the one on the tape deck was subtly different. Less regal, if
you like, a complex helix suggesting rings... Ah, it was like a Rorschach - the more you stared at it, the more shapes you
saw. He'd decided long ago that he was crazy. Such decisions made this strange life easier to deal with.
"David Bowie," he thought as the music crackled out over the speakers, "The Man Who Sold the World".
"What an anticlimax." he muttered.
" ...said I was his friend ... "
He grinned with no trace of humour and set about draining the tea-bag.
" ...which came as a surprise..."
He poured the tea and lifted the cup to his lips.
" ...you're face to face... "
He took a sip.
"...with the man who sold the world..."
The boiling drink spilled over his hands, soaking his jeans.
"Shit!" he yelped, springing involuntarily to his feet and struggling to disrobe as quickly as possible.
And then it spoke: "Are you ready, Mr. Callier?"

Part 3
He dropped to the floor, wincing at his scalded legs. He pulled the jeans off and ran cold water down his front, numb,
only able to move one step at a time.
"What do you want?" he asked distantly.
"I am the archivist. It is my function to record events as I see fit. Your input is required for the next instalment in my
project."
"Do you think I care? Do you think I want any more of this bullshit? Go away."
"That is impossible."
"I've told you everything."
"On the contrary. Your report contained numerous inaccuracies. That must be corrected. This segment of the archives
must be completed before termination of the project."
"What ? What project?"
The tape-deck was silent.
He took a deep breath. One: This thing lied through its teeth. Two: It was here for more than just some stupid war story
that it could have checked through its computers or something. It certainly had sources better than his rambling account.
Three: She had sent it.
He considered running, smashing the tape-deck open with a knife, removing the cassette and slicing the electromagnetic
strip to ribbons, but he knew that would simply delay the inevitable. He knew from previous experience that the voice
could follow him everywhere, and that there was no escaping it. Whether it had its' tape ripped out and cut into shreds,
whether he boiled it or buried it or locked it in the woodshed. In birdsong, on his car stereo - even with the wires cut
out, in the ripple of the water, in the sound of the wind.
It had the same sound, it was pitchless, it was musical, it was cold and mechanical.
He began to reboil the tea.
"What do you want me to tell you this time?" he asked.
The tape recorder was silent.
"How many times do I have to put up with you?" he continued in a monotone. "How many times do I have to put up
with your coming into my life with your stupid questions which you damn well know the answers? Huh? I'm sick of it.
Leave me alone. That's all I want. Get it, you stupid piece of shit?"
"This shall be my last interview with you."
He sighed with relief. Solitude was all he wanted. And now they would leave him alone, to peaceably live out his days.
He had earned that rest. He deserved it.
"Well? Start, then." he said impatiently, staring at his twisted reflection in his tea-mug.
"In our last discussion, you discussed your father. What aspects of your relationship with him prompted you to join the
EDC as a flagship commander?"
"Shit, no one starts off in the EDC as a flagship commander. You have to work your way up. I only received that
commission because I was the only one available at that time. Listen, we were at war, and we were dropping like flies..."
He could rattle on like this for hours, reeling off his dull memoirs while the thing took everything down.
"...and so he funded me every inch of the way, and without that sort of support and dedication, I wouldn't have sat for
the scholarship, much less applied for EDCA.."
Sometimes he enjoyed its presence, being the only other company he received out here. He knew that the people in the
village weren't real, only dull caricatures of the roles they fulfilled. At least this thing, this Archivist, provided a
distraction from this dull life, and he told it the good memories, the things he liked to remember; graduating, victory of
the Ceres strike, his friends from EDCA, old lovers, family. But sometimes it prodded for the hard parts, cutting old
wounds and scars open, and he'd gone berserk as the thing asked him about Paul, forced him to relive his mother's
suicide, when he was captured and held as a POW, when the Earth was baked in thermonuclear heat and they made him
watch as the devastation cracked the tectonic plates, and shifted the planet off its axis, changing its orbit, becoming lost
to him forever. All those lives, all he had ever fought for, wiped clean in a single moment.
He talked for some, unaware of what he was saying, glad to hear the sound of his own voice, firm and brisk, as if he
were back on the flagship, the Mariposa, giving out work details or telling the new kids what went where on the bridge. It
was undeniably cathartic, but he never let himself talk aloud here, viewing that as an inevitable step into madness.
But now he had a listener, and he knew it would be for the last time. So he talked. He confessed. He told it everything.

On Thursday, July 6, 2023 at 7:01:46 AM UTC+1, Joseph Bardsley wrote:
> Below - part 3 - is a favorite of mine for its feel and style. Each part is self-contained, so it's not really a spoiler to post them out of order. The first couple of parts are more abstract, and can be a bit of a slog if you're not acclimated to Belinda's style, so I wanted to test the waters with this self-contained piece first. If folks like it, I can post the rest.

I know that I tried to read Andraxus once, years ago, having heard good things, and I couldn't get into it, so I think you made the right call. This piece is a slow burn, but it does draw you in pretty quickly, and then you're just compelled to keep going. Despite Soundwave's presence, this is more of a general sci-if story than a Transformers story, and it's extremely well written.

It's bleak, good lord is it bleak... but the trickle of reveals are very well done, and I particularly love the irony of how he's clung to this belief that he's her prisoner, that she remembers him enough to hate him enough to torture him.

There are a lot of unanswered questions by the end, and I'm a little cautious over how many of them I can expect the full story to answer. Obviously, some things will be explored more fully, and I'd also hope that some things will be left for the reader to think through and reach their own conclusions. But that's a really tricky balance to get right.

Overall, I am definitely interested in seeing more of this... but I'm not sure I'd want to haul straight into it yet. I don't enjoy bleak stories as much as I did when I was younger: an inevitable consequence of life experience--once you've gone through something nowhere near as bleak and it *still* did a number on your mental health, you're not as eager to delve into those emotions.

Velvet Glove (who has dabbled in fictional genocide in her time, but currently prefers to pull out the happy life moments)

On Thursday, July 6, 2023 at 7:01:46 AM UTC+1, Joseph Bardsley wrote:

>
> It's a dark and dense kind of writing, and it is best appreciated in small doses, but the end result is truly remarkable as a piece of *writing* on its own, and a story that still brings me vivid memories two decades later. The entire thing is about 300 pages, and each chapter is narrated from the specific perspective of a Decepticon.
>
> Below - part 3 - is a favorite of mine for its feel and style. Each part is self-contained, so it's not really a spoiler to post them out of order. The first couple of parts are more abstract, and can be a bit of a slog if you're not acclimated to Belinda's style, so I wanted to test the waters with this self-contained piece first. If folks like it, I can post the rest.

This was a dark, dense, and atmospheric thrill ride. I like the claustrophobic atmosphere the author evoked, and the mystery of what exactly is going on. I think it touches on our own fears of mortality, that everything we know and love is truly ephemeral, subject to random, greater powers, and truly beyond our control.

Thanks for posting Joseph - though you did cost me a night's sleep as I tracked down the rest of the fic on Lexicon! To be honest, I'd come across it before, but upon seeing the title "Slag, Lord of Khalyer," I lost interest in investing my time in what I wrongly assumed was some fan's personal canon. How wrong I was!

>
> (FYI, Belinda and I still keep in touch via FB; she's not active in the fandom anymore, but remains proud of her achievements here).

Please let her know that her work is finding new fans today, and if she ever wants to come to ATT and engage, she'd be warmly welcomed.

> END

In an alternate timeline, Hasbro would be acquiring fanfiction and adapting them for the screen. The level of writing in the fandom, especially the prime years (90s-early 2000s), is worlds away from the dreck that we've received from Netflix and Machinima.

On Saturday, July 8, 2023 at 2:59:58 PM UTC-7, Codigo Postal wrote:
> On Thursday, July 6, 2023 at 7:01:46 AM UTC+1, Joseph Bardsley wrote:
>
> >
> > It's a dark and dense kind of writing, and it is best appreciated in small doses, but the end result is truly remarkable as a piece of *writing* on its own, and a story that still brings me vivid memories two decades later. The entire thing is about 300 pages, and each chapter is narrated from the specific perspective of a Decepticon.
> >
> > Below - part 3 - is a favorite of mine for its feel and style. Each part is self-contained, so it's not really a spoiler to post them out of order.. The first couple of parts are more abstract, and can be a bit of a slog if you're not acclimated to Belinda's style, so I wanted to test the waters with this self-contained piece first. If folks like it, I can post the rest..
> This was a dark, dense, and atmospheric thrill ride. I like the claustrophobic atmosphere the author evoked, and the mystery of what exactly is going on. I think it touches on our own fears of mortality, that everything we know and love is truly ephemeral, subject to random, greater powers, and truly beyond our control.
>
> Thanks for posting Joseph - though you did cost me a night's sleep as I tracked down the rest of the fic on Lexicon! To be honest, I'd come across it before, but upon seeing the title "Slag, Lord of Khalyer," I lost interest in investing my time in what I wrongly assumed was some fan's personal canon. How wrong I was!
> >
> > (FYI, Belinda and I still keep in touch via FB; she's not active in the fandom anymore, but remains proud of her achievements here).
> Please let her know that her work is finding new fans today, and if she ever wants to come to ATT and engage, she'd be warmly welcomed.
>
> > END
>
> In an alternate timeline, Hasbro would be acquiring fanfiction and adapting them for the screen. The level of writing in the fandom, especially the prime years (90s-early 2000s), is worlds away from the dreck that we've received from Netflix and Machinima.

Glad that this piece is resonating with folks. It's not an easy read, in some ways, for the reasons discussed, but I feel like it's worth the time.

Will format and post Part I soon!

(Codigo, wow! Did you finish the entire series in one night? Very impressive. Did you come to any conclusions having done so? :))

JB

On Monday, July 10, 2023 at 7:47:53 AM UTC+1, Joseph Bardsley wrote:
> On Saturday, July 8, 2023 at 2:59:58 PM UTC-7, Codigo Postal wrote:
> > On Thursday, July 6, 2023 at 7:01:46 AM UTC+1, Joseph Bardsley wrote:
> >
> > >
> > > It's a dark and dense kind of writing, and it is best appreciated in small doses, but the end result is truly remarkable as a piece of *writing* on its own, and a story that still brings me vivid memories two decades later. The entire thing is about 300 pages, and each chapter is narrated from the specific perspective of a Decepticon.
> > >
> > > Below - part 3 - is a favorite of mine for its feel and style. Each part is self-contained, so it's not really a spoiler to post them out of order. The first couple of parts are more abstract, and can be a bit of a slog if you're not acclimated to Belinda's style, so I wanted to test the waters with this self-contained piece first. If folks like it, I can post the rest.
> > This was a dark, dense, and atmospheric thrill ride. I like the claustrophobic atmosphere the author evoked, and the mystery of what exactly is going on. I think it touches on our own fears of mortality, that everything we know and love is truly ephemeral, subject to random, greater powers, and truly beyond our control.
> >
> > Thanks for posting Joseph - though you did cost me a night's sleep as I tracked down the rest of the fic on Lexicon! To be honest, I'd come across it before, but upon seeing the title "Slag, Lord of Khalyer," I lost interest in investing my time in what I wrongly assumed was some fan's personal canon. How wrong I was!
> > >
> > > (FYI, Belinda and I still keep in touch via FB; she's not active in the fandom anymore, but remains proud of her achievements here).
> > Please let her know that her work is finding new fans today, and if she ever wants to come to ATT and engage, she'd be warmly welcomed.
> >
> > > END
> >
> > In an alternate timeline, Hasbro would be acquiring fanfiction and adapting them for the screen. The level of writing in the fandom, especially the prime years (90s-early 2000s), is worlds away from the dreck that we've received from Netflix and Machinima.
> Glad that this piece is resonating with folks. It's not an easy read, in some ways, for the reasons discussed, but I feel like it's worth the time.
>
> Will format and post Part I soon!
>
> (Codigo, wow! Did you finish the entire series in one night? Very impressive. Did you come to any conclusions having done so? :))
>
> JB

Well, sleep is overrated!

I enjoyed that each chapter could be enjoyed as a standalone story, but when put together, melded into a unified and compelling tale. Whole greater than the sum of the parts...it's a fanfic gestalt.

Kelly's take on Starscream was interesting - it presaged IDW's reinvention of him as a politician, but felt more organic. His fate, as always, is tragic, and his destiny is to be ultimately a pawn of others, no matter how he struggles to assert his agency. The Slag/Grimlock dynamic, and Collier's failed attempt to resolve it, added depth to the Dinobots (it's really been a Dinobot week here at ATT). Send more recs!

How did you respond to the story when you first read it, vs how you feel about it today?

On Monday, July 10, 2023 at 1:47:01 PM UTC-7, Codigo Postal wrote:
> On Monday, July 10, 2023 at 7:47:53 AM UTC+1, Joseph Bardsley wrote:
> > On Saturday, July 8, 2023 at 2:59:58 PM UTC-7, Codigo Postal wrote:
> > > On Thursday, July 6, 2023 at 7:01:46 AM UTC+1, Joseph Bardsley wrote:
> > >
> > > >
> > > > It's a dark and dense kind of writing, and it is best appreciated in small doses, but the end result is truly remarkable as a piece of *writing* on its own, and a story that still brings me vivid memories two decades later. The entire thing is about 300 pages, and each chapter is narrated from the specific perspective of a Decepticon.
> > > >
> > > > Below - part 3 - is a favorite of mine for its feel and style. Each part is self-contained, so it's not really a spoiler to post them out of order. The first couple of parts are more abstract, and can be a bit of a slog if you're not acclimated to Belinda's style, so I wanted to test the waters with this self-contained piece first. If folks like it, I can post the rest.
> > > This was a dark, dense, and atmospheric thrill ride. I like the claustrophobic atmosphere the author evoked, and the mystery of what exactly is going on. I think it touches on our own fears of mortality, that everything we know and love is truly ephemeral, subject to random, greater powers, and truly beyond our control.
> > >
> > > Thanks for posting Joseph - though you did cost me a night's sleep as I tracked down the rest of the fic on Lexicon! To be honest, I'd come across it before, but upon seeing the title "Slag, Lord of Khalyer," I lost interest in investing my time in what I wrongly assumed was some fan's personal canon. How wrong I was!
> > > >
> > > > (FYI, Belinda and I still keep in touch via FB; she's not active in the fandom anymore, but remains proud of her achievements here).
> > > Please let her know that her work is finding new fans today, and if she ever wants to come to ATT and engage, she'd be warmly welcomed.
> > >
> > > > END
> > >
> > > In an alternate timeline, Hasbro would be acquiring fanfiction and adapting them for the screen. The level of writing in the fandom, especially the prime years (90s-early 2000s), is worlds away from the dreck that we've received from Netflix and Machinima.
> > Glad that this piece is resonating with folks. It's not an easy read, in some ways, for the reasons discussed, but I feel like it's worth the time..
> >
> > Will format and post Part I soon!
> >
> > (Codigo, wow! Did you finish the entire series in one night? Very impressive. Did you come to any conclusions having done so? :))
> >
> > JB
> Well, sleep is overrated!
>
> I enjoyed that each chapter could be enjoyed as a standalone story, but when put together, melded into a unified and compelling tale. Whole greater than the sum of the parts...it's a fanfic gestalt.
>
> Kelly's take on Starscream was interesting - it presaged IDW's reinvention of him as a politician, but felt more organic. His fate, as always, is tragic, and his destiny is to be ultimately a pawn of others, no matter how he struggles to assert his agency. The Slag/Grimlock dynamic, and Collier's failed attempt to resolve it, added depth to the Dinobots (it's really been a Dinobot week here at ATT). Send more recs!
>
> How did you respond to the story when you first read it, vs how you feel about it today?

Working through a long week, without a lot of sleep, but will post another Andraxus installment here this week.

Love these thoughts and ideas. It’s funny how stories like this hit differently at different points in life, hey?

Joseph