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Finding the Good Within	By : Scienceteacher Category: Transformers > G1 > Crossovers Views: 3108 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story

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New Lives, New Jobs

The searing fire blew threw his circuits. His breakers overloading from the strain.. Throwing his head back he screamed in agony, his entire chassis spasmed as he thrashed in their grip. But he was unable to escape their grasp. Tears flowed from his optics as he again pleaded for them to stop. His pleas falling on deaf audios.. With a final buck against his hips, Hook released the last bit of his tense energy into him. Mirage felt like the Constructicon was ripping his bonding cables out of him as the imposing mech roughly pulled away from him. Groaning, he rolled his head from side-to-side as he felt Hook slide his fingers back into his raw and overheated circuits. Probing up.. Invading him again…

‘Give him an astrominute or two to cool down, then he’ll be ready for more,’ he faintly heard Hook say to the mechs that were holding him down against the table.

‘Please, no more..’ Mirage gasped as he turned his head towards them. His optics tried desperately to focus through the haze of pain. Something seemed strange about the Constructicon on his right. He was the wrong color. As the image sharpened, Mirage gasped in shock as he met the cold swirling optics of the bounty hunter.

She leaned forward, grasping his chin and forcing him to tilt his head too far back. Pain shot through his neck linkages from the strain. ‘Do not show weakness Autobot.. Primus watches,” she growled…

In a clang of metal, Mirage hit the ground next to his berth. The shock of the unexpected impact brought his meta out of the memory echo. Panicked, he rolled to the wall and crouched there, his optics wild in fear. But slowly, he calmed down. Slowly, he realized that it had all been an echo. Shaking slightly as his battle processor sought to reset his system, Mirage stood up and walked back towards the berth. Sitting down with a heavy thud, he put his head in his hands.

These memory echoes were the horrible reminders of what he had gone through. Of his ‘breaking in’ under the hands of the cons; periodically and unpredictably, they’d come back to haunt him during defrag. They forced him to relive every agonizing moment of that period in his life. But this time, this time had been slightly different. For Hunter had not been present during his breaking in. But yet, in this echo she had been. Why? Why had his memory echo thrown her in? Did it mean anything?

Mirage thought on what she had said in the memory echo. She had told him not to show weakness, that Primus was watching. Was this a message from Primus? A message that he couldn’t show weakness to Hunter.. Was Primus watching him as he planned and schemed! Did Primus support him in his quest to make Hunter show some decency towards the slaves she rescued?

Shaking his head, Mirage wrapped his arms around himself and rocked back and forth. It was so confusing, so terrifying. But Hunter wasn’t invincible. He’d seen that when Motor Master had attacked her. And she needed them. She had to. Or why was she bothering to try to keep him so tightly under her control? Mirage had to believe that there was some reason for Primus keeping him functioning through all those orbit cycles of torture. He had to believe that Primus wanted him to break through the bitter femme’s exterior. Was Primus telling him to be strong in that message? Telling him to push forward? Mirage desperately prayed that that was the answer. He couldn’t keep living like this. Even though it was better than con slavery, it wasn’t living. He’d realized that as he had watched Hunter beaten and had stood there and snickered with Swindle about it.

Biting his lip, Mirage quit rocking. Uncurling his arms, he slammed his hands down on the hard rubber on either side of him. A look of decision on his face as he knew he had to do it. Had to find just the right time to stand up to her, to force her to accept him as an equal, make her agree to treat him and the others with respect. He lifted his chin proudly, for even though he was just a factionless thief now, he still had the programming of an Autobot. And Autobots demanded fairness in treatment.

Standing up, he strode to the door. It was time to relieve Hunter on the bridge. It was time to think and make plans for how he was going to pull Wheeljack and Grapple into his team. For together they were strong. Together, they would eventually force Hunter’s hand.

-------

Hunter left the two wrecks by themselves in the repair bay for a few day cycles, not even bothering to check on them. She knew from her history with the Autobots that once they gave an oath, they stuck with it, so she knew they were following her orders to the tee. And when they needed to defrag, they could just sleep on the exam tables.

Deciding that they were most likely getting low on charge, she went to one of the ship’s storage units and pulled a couple of energon cubes out. Striding down to the repair bay’s level; she strolled into the bay unannounced. Smirking as she surprised the two naked mechs who were busy repainting their refurbished armor.

“Um, Yes ma-am?” Wheeljack stammered as he stood up. His brilliant blue optics nervously scanning hers, praying that they were more amber than crimson.

Grapple also got to his feet quickly, standing stiffly at attention. Though neither of them had been the gung-ho militia types with the Autobots, they’d decided their best bet to keep their new mistress ‘pleased’ was to treat her like a top commander.

Her optics swirled to more amber. Casually, she tossed them the energon cubes. As they leapt to catch them, she picked up a few pieces of the armor they’d been repainting and studied them for the slightest imperfection in the paint job. “Very well done. I expect my mechs to be scuffless and in perfect running condition. Make sure you keep yourselves in perfect condition, understand?” she said, not even looking up at them. She pulled out each piece of armor from the pile, her optics scanning intently. “So, you both removed your insignias?” she stated more than asked.

Looking at each other anxiously, the two wondered if that had been a bad idea. But Mirage had none, so surely that’s what she wanted? “Well, um, it’s like this. We, uh, noticed that Mirage didn’t have his. So we just, uh, figured you’d want ours gone too,” Wheeljack explained as he rubbed his hands together nervously.

Grapple nodded, “We can’t go back. We gave you our oath,” he confirmed.

Hunter studied the two, for they were even more eager to please her than Mirage had been. Perhaps she should manipulate them some more, make them believe that their loyalty, their following her orders to the tee – would be essential for Mirage to keep functioning? Make them think they were indeed indebted to the mech for their ‘freedom’ from the cons.

“Mirage was correct then, you two do have some minimal intellect,” she chuckled. Not even bothering to mask her insult.

They looked at each other. Both hearing the insult for what it was, but also understanding the insinuation that Mirage had indeed been the one to talk her into purchasing them. They owed him their lives now.

Wheeljack looked down at his feet, shifting nervously as he tried to decide how to best respond. “Well, um, I guess so. We’re more thinkers than fighters,” he admitted. Glancing up at Grapple he noted the slight nod of agreement.

Suddenly, Wheeljack found himself picked up and slammed against the wall. His naked circuits screamed in agony as she punched him a few times for good measure. His optics filling with the tears of his pain, he met her fiery crimson optics. “So you pathetic mechs can’t even fight – much less show me the respect I demand?” she growled menacingly, her face a mere hand-span from his.

“No ma-am, I didn’t mean it like that.. I swear.. I swear!” Wheeljack stammered. Grinding his jaws against the pain as she dropped him roughly to the floor, he staggered back to his feet. Still apologizing profusely for his slip of the glossa, he stared at the floor in a show of subservience.

“Get your armor back on,” she ordered, “but remember this; Mirage gave me his oath that you two would be productive and eager members of my team. If you fail to be this, Mirage will be the one to suffer the consequences of your failure.” Turning on her thrusters, she marched out of the repair bay.

With looks of shock, the two mechs looked at each other in dismay.

“Sloggers, I think our Mistress is a cross between Sunstreaker and….” Wheeljack began.

“-Megatron,” Grapple finished for him.

Their optics locked, a sense of dismay pervaded the room. Neither one had ever been that much concerned about their own appearance. Now they would have to be, or face punishment for the slightest scratch to their paint job. And the punishment wouldn’t be yelling either, it would be purely physical and painful to be sure. And if they didn’t jump to her orders – poor Mirage would be the one to get the worst of it. He’d been the one to talk her into purchasing them… In rescuing them from the torment of their Decepticon Masters…

Wheeljack picked up some of Grapple’s armor and began to get it back on the mech. “Well, guess it’s still better than bending over for a dozen cons in a night,” he sighed sadly.

Grapple sighed sadly as well, “Yes, it’s better. At least we have each other too.”

Stopping his work on Grapple, Wheeljack looked up at him, his optics beginning to shine again. “Ya, and at least she’ll sometimes let us have release too, huh?” he said as he remembered the day they’d given her their oaths of loyalty. It had been the first time he’d felt any physical pleasure in many orbit cycles. His circuits warmed just at the mere remembrance of the sensation.

The other mech nodded, shivering slightly as he recalled the pain that also had come with the pleasure of release. “Well, it wasn’t as painful as being raped I guess,” he admitted.

Wheeljack shrugged, “Maybe she’s just being a hard-aft at first. Maybe she’ll chill out once she gets to know us?” He sure hoped so, although it wouldn’t be nearly as bad as life had been with the Insecticons as Masters, it’d still be hard dealing with a Sunstreaker/Megatron type Mistress on a day cycle basis. Maybe she was just setting the groundwork of discipline? But on the other hand, if she was a true bitch through-and-through, how would they manage to cope?!?

Grapple smiled at his friend, “Let’s hope so.” He picked up some of his leg armor and began to relatch it onto his leg. His thoughts going along the same lines as his friend’s, for if she was this way all the time, he didn’t know how long he could take it. Granted, he had to, she owned him.

Stopping him briefly, Wheeljack took his lips. A little surprised at first, Grapple felt the desperation in his kiss. His need to feel some measure of safety… Of some kind of future with someone he at least liked. Autobots were programmed to seek emotional stability, to find a partner to trust in, to share their hopes and dreams with. Though they’d never been attracted to each other in this way, the circumstances of their lives had brought them together. Neither one could go back to his true bond mate. They were both soiled goods. Their sparks were now tainted and worthless. But through it all, they’d had each other to cry to - Those dark times during the ‘breaking in’ period. When they were beaten and raped, and then thrown in the darkness of their cell in order to recover. They had lain, damaged and naked in each other’s arms. Holding each other as they both cried their agony.. Their shame.. It had made it seem easier, somehow, to bear. For they had always had each other’s understanding and empathy.. Always had someone to talk to.. To cry to..

Finally separating, they looked into each other’s blue optics. They understood each other to their very core. And even though they’d have to open themselves to Hunter any time she demanded.. Perhaps.. Perhaps they could relearn what love was in each other’s arms?

“Um, you know I’ll always love Ratchet.. But I can’t go back to him now..” Wheeljack said softly as he shifted from foot-to-foot. He hated himself for doing this. For moving on from his first bond mate – but he could never stand to have Ratchet’s beautiful spark touch his soiled spark again. But he needed someone to call his own. The need embedded into his very core programming by Vector Sigma.

“Yes, and you know I feel the same way about Hoist,” Grapple answered as he nodded to his friend. He felt as though his spark was breaking. But he knew that Hoist would now think he was off-lined - Had probably moved on by now. And to the Autobots he was as good as dead. He was a worthless slave-whore. Not good enough to ever put the proud Autobot insignia back on his armor. Only the bounty hunter seemed to find them of any value now. And that was only because Mirage had worked some kind of deal with her.

Grapple looked at Wheeljack, knowing that the inventor would most likely get the position of medic on this little rogue team. But what would he do? He was an architect. Not a fighter.. Not an inventor.. Not a medic. Chewing on his lip, he pushed those thoughts from his meta. Obviously Mirage had come up with some reason for him to be purchased. He just had to wait patiently to find out what that was. But he did need the comfort of a mech to call his own. A mech to put his arms around as he defragged… Wheeljack was that mech..

“Well, since we understand each other. Um, will you stand by me here?” Wheeljack asked. He was thinking more on ‘bond mate’ terms, but he just couldn’t bring himself to say it. Ratchet would always hold that spot, even though he could never bear to touch that untainted spark again. He could never soil Ratchet’s spark by bonding with him again. But Grapple was just as tainted.. Just as soiled..

Grapple looked at Wheeljack with a strange expression in his optics. He felt the same way Wheeljack felt. They could never call themselves ‘bond mates’ again. They were both too tainted for that. But they could live together as such. Maybe even learn to love each other that way. “Yes, I’ll stand by you,” he said as he took the mech’s lips again.

---

Mirage hesitated briefly at the door of the med bay. Hunter had ordered him to check on her newest pair of slaves. Make sure that they were almost finished putting their armor back on, and then to give them their work orders for the day cycle and assign them to their quarters. In a sense, he was now her first officer.

Yes, ever since he had successfully completed his first mission and then behaved ‘like a con’, she had been relatively nice to him. Well, except for her ‘lesson’ about controlling his emotions. But he had learned from it. She had even allowed him to get release without pain for once. Giving him more pleasure in the act than he’d ever experienced before! Her demeanor was still rather arrogant and cold, but at least her optics had stayed primarily amber.

But Mirage still felt something inside him had broken on that mission and his resulting change in demeanor. Something that could never be repaired… He felt a sense of emotional coldness settling over him. Almost like that of Hunter’s. Was this why she was so cold? Had everything she’d once been – been crushed and destroyed by the life that Primus had thrust upon her? Perhaps he now understood her better, even if he didn’t agree with her. For Primus was now forcing him to change the very core of his being, to turn cold and conniving. Just as Mirage suspected he had forced Hunter to do long ago. But unlike Hunter, Mirage wouldn’t change his true values. He’d play the game until he found the advantage, and he’d win the game. He swore this to himself.

The door slid open and Mirage’s optics brightened at the sight of his friends. No longer pathetic wrecks, their perfect armor gleamed under the artificial lighting of the med bay. Not a hint of their former dilapidated state remained. Grapple was in the process of relatching the last sections of Wheeljack’s armor onto him. The two were talking in happy tones, their blue optics bright.

As their audios picked up the sound of the door sliding open, they looked up as one. Smiles flooded over their faces as they spied Mirage.

“Hey buddy, long time,” Wheeljack said. He strode up to his old friend and wrapped his arms around him. Giving him a big hug like old times…

Mirage relaxed into his embrace, returning it with his own. He’d been so afraid they’d see him for the pathetic thief he now was. But then he realized that they’d taken their insignias off as well. They were just as factionless as he was. “I saw you guys, I just couldn’t leave you there…” he softly said to them.

As Wheeljack released his grip on him, Grapple picked him up and gave him a big hug as well. “Yes, Hunter told us as much. Thanks Mirage, we owe you our lives!” he said to him. Setting the black and white mech down, he patted his shoulder armor, his optics warm.

Blushing a little bit, Mirage shifted a little. “Heck, you mechs would’ve done the same. It’s no big deal,” he stammered.

“So what’s she going to do with us, Mirage?” Wheeljack asked. He suspected that he’d be the main medic of the group, but looking over at Grapple; he wondered what the architect’s job would be. Obviously, the bounty hunter wasn’t into construction or anything. And Grapple would be useless on her missions. Whereas that was probably what she was using Mirage for.

Mirage looked from one-to-the-other; he figured they’d better know. But it was a rather awkward subject to broach. “Well, um, guess you two had better sit down,” he told them.

Glancing at each other in surprise, the two mechs shrugged and plopped themselves down on one of the repair tables. Their expectant optics looked up at Mirage, waiting for him to explain.

“Well, um, Hunter’s not like us. She’s from another dimension,” Mirage started.

“You’re kidding right?” Wheeljack asked as he cocked his head in interest. From another dimension?!? That was truly amazing! If Perceptor was here, he’d be following the Seeker around and hounding her with questions.

“Nope. Primus forced her here. She’s from a faction that calls themselves ‘Guardians’,” Mirage continued.

“Primus? Seriously?” Grapple asked; his optics big in disbelief. Mechs prayed to Primus, they never got direct orders from him. But Hunter DID?!?! Unbelievable!

“Yes, um, I think she’s still a little bitter about it. Apparently the mechs in her home dimension were a heck of a lot more advanced than us. She thinks we’re all pathetic,” Mirage said as he plopped his aft down on the exam table next to them.

“So that’s why she’s so freagin’ mean?” Wheeljack stated more than asked.

Mirage nodded, “That’s not all Primus is making her do. The mechs in her dimension are somehow ‘born’, they’re not really ‘built’.”

“Do what?” the inventor’s optics got huge. He had a rather active imagination, which was rare for a mech, but even his imagination couldn’t fathom this one.

“Ya, they take mech mates from both con and bot factions. When they fully bond with them, new combined sparks begin to grow within them. They don’t need Vector Sigma,” Mirage explained.

“Holy Primus! That’s why she did it!” Grapple stammered as he and Wheeljack exchanged a look that was both horrified and amazed.

“Did what?” Mirage asked as he looked from mech-to-mech.

Grapple chewed on his lip. Still not quite believing this was possible. “Last time she visited the Insecticons, she stopped us in the storage level. Instead of just raping us like she normally does, she let us each have release,” he explained.

“Sloggers! Are sparks that are half-us, now growing inside her?” Wheeljack asked Mirage.

Mirage looked from one-to-the-other. He was beginning to suspect that Hunter had already known who these two slaves had once been, before she had even gone to the Insecticons for their first load of supplies. She had already decided they’d sire good, intelligent sparklings. She’d just let him BELIEVE he’d talked her into ‘rescuing’ them! And she’d forced him to betray everything he’d once stood for in order to pay for them. The sheer level of manipulation she was capable of amazed and appalled the former Autobot spy. But what was done was done; there was no taking it back. She’d trapped his two friends as completely as he was now trapped. A wave of anger rolled over Mirage. He’d already made up his meta to eventually force Hunter to accept certain ‘conditions’, and now that he realized just how manipulative the Seeker was, he felt no sympathy for her whatsoever! He didn’t care if Primus had forced her to be this way. By Primus, he was going to force her to change again.

“Yes, she’s carrying your sparklings as well now,” he confirmed, his voice having an unnaturally hard edge to it.

Grapple shrugged his expression one of glum resignation. “Heck we were already trapped because of our oaths to her, now we’re trapped because of what’s inside her,” he stated flatly.

Wheeljack looked over at his new ‘mate’. “But this is different than just an ‘oath’ Grapple, this is new life! Do you realize that we’re the first, the very first mechs who will ever be fathers here?!” his optics were bright in excitement. He’d actually raise a mech that was half him! It was unbelievable! All those times that he’d envied organic creatures for this capacity, and now Primus had given him this opportunity.

With brightening optics, the other two former Autobots looked at each other. Wheeljack was right; they should be excited about the new sparklings growing within the Seeker. They were now somehow like the organic creatures - they could ‘create’ new sparks. A new future was opening for their species. A new future dragged here by Primus himself. Smiles began to shine on the two mechs faces as they felt the excitement of holding their very own sparklings in their arms one day cycle… Of being part of raising these new Guardians..

Mirage stood up, his optics narrowing to slits as he saw his friends’ happiness. Did they not realize that these new Guardians would be raised to be as cold and sparkless as Hunter? Walking over to Wheeljack, he put his arms around him, acting as if he was embracing the mech in happiness. But in actuality, he wasn’t. He was playing the act just in case the freagin’ Seeker was spying on them. As he lifted the inventor off the exam table and spun him around in mock excitement as he secretly connected a data link cable between their systems. In the blink of an optic, he had downloaded his thoughts and plans into Wheeljack’s meta. Setting the mech down, he separated the link from them as seamlessly as he released the mech from his arms.

Wheeljack looked up at him with shocked optics as he swiftly downloaded the file. His optics spoke volumes as he stared at Mirage. Then he nodded slightly, agreeing to do as the spy had asked.

“So you’re excited too?!” Mirage asked Grapple, mock happiness in his voice.

Not realizing the silent communication that had just gone between Wheeljack and Mirage, Grapple nodded with a grin. No sooner had he nodded his head, the black and white mech grabbed him in a ‘happy’ hug as well. Grapple’s optics widened in surprise as he felt a data link plug in. What was Mirage doing?!? But then the file was transferred and Mirage pulled away, disconnecting them.

Grapple looked at his two friends, his happiness changing swiftly to one of wariness as he downloaded the file. Now he understood what they faced. And it was possibly more terrifying than the captivity he’d just experienced. Without a word, he nodded slightly, agreeing to do everything that Mirage asked. Together, as a team, they could accomplish the impossible. They might eventually find a way to change the cold bounty hunter.

---

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Finding the Good Within