Battle of the Warrior Sailor

The Tournan Hive gained control of the Warrior Sailor


Tournan Hive

The Strog


Strog Captain




Tournan Hive VS. Strog Warrior Sailor!

Wraith Soldiers and Minicons alike rushed to the hangars, motivated by the tones and code words in the Captain’s voice. Assembled, they all read: This ship must be stopped. (Roughly, and not in so many words.)

The Tournan Captain, DR. Tourny, had summoned his high staff to the bridge.

“Lieutenant!” He barked.

“Yes, Captain?” The Lieutenant replied sternly.

“I need you to lead the wraith soldiers in the Phages.”

“But, sir! Those are purely experimental!”

“Does it work for the Bacteriophages?”

“Yes, but-”

“Does it work?”


“Then it will work for you.” Tourny moved on.


“Yes, Captain?” Optimus replied from the bridge’s view screen.

“You will be leading the Minicons in space. Send some to accompany the Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Oh, and, Optimus?”


“Try not to get killed this time.”

“Yes, sir…”


“Aye, sir?” The Elite Commander growled.

“You will be accompanying me in my phage.”

There was surprised silence from everyone but the Elites.

“But, Captain, don’t we need you on the ship?” The Lieutenant stammered.

“I leave my ship in good hands, Lieutenant.”


“Its own.”

The Commander looked at his own hands and then looked back.

“We would be honored to have you with us, Captain.” The Elite Commander said.

“Thank you, Commander Red.”

Red nodded, accepting the title and his task.

“What about me, sir?” SBD inquired.

The Captain looked indecisive.

“I want you with the troops.” He finally said.

“Yes, sir.” The SBD looked disappointed, but understanding. Tourny returned the gesture.

“Jim, I leave the darts to you.”

“B-but I’m not-”

“Jim, I made you chief of staff for a reason. Don’t doubt my wisdom.”

“Yes, sir!”

“All of you! I need nothing but the absolute best! We need to win this fight if we ever want to make it home. This started as innocent reconnaissance, but now it has escalated into far more. If they have ships to rival the Hive, than the Hive must rival back. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Captain!”

“Now get moving! All of you! Red, with me.”

The various staff members parted ways. The Captain and the Elite Squad marched down to the Phage Bay.

Red looked like he thought of something.



“Are you armed?”


“… Get this man a plasma rifle!”

A plasma rifle flew from some unseen trajectory and caught by the Captain.

Epic music began to play as the Captain and his squad climbed aboard their Phage.

“On your order, sir.” The Lieutenant said over the comm.

“For the Hive!” The Captain roared.

“For the Hive!” Bellowed the Tournans over the roar and scream of darts and phages launching from the Hive.

“How soon until we arrive?” Tourny called to the back of the phage.

The Yellow Elite looked up at the console he was working at. “About-”


“-Negative Two seconds, sir.”

“Very Good.”

The comm. blinked at him.

He pushed the button to answer it.

“Captain, the Warrior Sailor has shields.” The Commander said hurriedly.

“How are the Phages doing against them?”

“Not too well, sir.”

The phage suddenly broke into open vacuum. The sound of the Commander’s voice was lost in the void.

Yellow was fussing with the controls.

The phage withdrew its stinger, widened its girth, and drove it back in. (Shut up, Naga.)

The wider hole in the shield allowed the phage passage. The other Phages followed suit.


“Captain! The weird spidery thingies are breaking through our shields!” Yelled one of the bridge officers on the Warrior Sailor.

WHAT?! That’s impossible!”

“Tell that to them.”

“All darts, follow behind those phages. Those entrances will close quickly.” Jim said commandingly.

“No, belay that order. Sorry, Jim, but they already have.” The Commander cut him off.

The Phages landed hard on the outer surface of the Warrior Sailor. Strog Warriors were already lined up to meet them.


A line of holes forced themselves through the wall and Wraith Soldiers poured out along with Minicons and the Elite Squad.

This takes place (metaphorically):

The battle had spread throughout the Strog Ship, and the two races were neck and neck in almost every aspect.

“Red, I’m going for the bridge!”

“We are with you, Captain!”

The Elite Squadron and the Captain epically fought their way to the bridge.

Upon their arrival, the Elites immediately engaged the bridge officers in combat. The Captains were left alone.

“You didn’t expect us to be so skilled as foes, did you?” Tourny hissed, drawing his sword.

“The Strog have never lost a battle!” The Strog Captain roared, drawing his own sword.

“’Tybalt, you rat catcher, will you walk?’”

“Have at thee!”

The Strog leapt at Tourny with his sword raised in fury.

Tourny parried the blow with his sword in one hand and thrust the other into the Strog’s ribcage.


The Strog recovered immediately and hurled his sword at the Tournan Captain with surprising agility and accuracy.

Tourny epically backflipped and caught the sword as it passed under him, landing on his feet with double the weapons. He smiled gruesomely.

The Strog growled. “Sword!”

A sword was tossed from somewhere off screen.

Tourny leapt at the Strog and swung one of his blades, the Strog parried and kicked Tourny in the face. Tourny doubled backwards and drove his second sword at the Strog’s heart. The Strog hissed and grabbed the blade with his bare hand.

Tourny winced. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

The Strog laughed. “You bet it does.

Tourny was lifted off his feet and thrown at the bridge window.



The entire bridge fell silent at the noise.


It came again.

Fear passed over Tourny’s face, for his Elites could not survive in space for long. Something caught his eye. It was the glinting of a plasma rifle in Red’s hand, and he was motioning for him to get out of the way.

Tourny did as he was told, though he didn’t understand why. In one fell swoop, Tourny vaulted himself into the air and bore down on his opponent with his two swords.

Pew Pew Pew!

Tourny ricocheted off the Strogs blocking sword and landed behind him. He turned to see who had fired.

Red was standing with his plasma rifle.

“It’s a plasma rifle.”

The window was welded shut.

Fighting resumed as normal on the bridge.

The Strog swung at Tourny but Tourny ducked and followed it up with a kick to the groin.

“Oof!” The Strog grunted, doubling over.

“Hiyah!” Tourny flowed into a skip kick and pegged the Strog in the face.

“Ungh!” The Strog cried.

“TRIPLE SPINNING DRAGON KICK!” The Announcer called.

Tourny had punctuated the combo with a dragon kick: The kick that so few can use.

The Strog flew back in flames and slammed against the far wall.

Tourny dashed up to him and sank the Strog’s blade into his own heart.

The Strog protested and pulled the sword out. “No! A Strog dies… Honorably. Good fight, Captain. You are a worthy opponent of the Strog.”

“Thank you, my friend. Die in honor!” Tourny mimicked the gesture he had seen the Strog do.

The Strog laughed and closed his eyes.

The bridge was silent.

Tourny turned and saw all of the other Strog were slain.

“Good work, men. Let’s go clean up this ship!”

And with that, the Captain and his squad dashed off to finish the fight.

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