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The New Age - (Market Commodity book II)	By : Scienceteacher Category: Transformers > G1 > Round Robins Views: 6401 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Do not own the Transformers, am not making anything from this story.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
**New Era Part 11**

**Written by StSE, Universe G1**

Flame grunted as he pushed against the heavy cement slab. It was in vain. It was always in vain. With a defeated sigh, he let his torso sink back to the floor and stared up through the small cracks of his prison. Sometimes he saw stars blinking cheerfully at him. Sometimes it was the sun which teased him as its tiny tendrils snuck in and caressed his armor. But this time all he saw was blackness. Faintly, he could hear the sounds of a storm coming.

He shifted as much as he could. Trying to make himself comfortable as he waited for the streams of water to come pouring in on him. As the very planet seemed to want to drown him in the mud! He hit the concrete slab once more. But he couldn’t even cause the slightest of vibration in the immense slab. Just as he couldn’t budge it from over his crushed pelvis and legs…

“Why? Why was I so bad that you hated me this much?” he whispered hoarsely. His meta fell in on itself once again….

…** “Sure thing!” he chuckled as he zoomed up the ladder and onto the roof. She seemed in a good mood today, perhaps he’d manage to please her this time! Cleaning leaves out of the gutters didn’t sound terribly hard, surely he could manage.

“Make sure you do it right this time!” she barked as she went into the house.

He worked furiously the rest of the afternoon. Crawling around the roof as he went through every single gutter… The sun was hot today. The heat seemed to radiate from the asphalt shingles. Here and there, some tar stuck to his armor. He’d look down in dismay and try to wipe it. Which only served to spread it over a wider area.. His beautiful armor now covered in tar and grime. But he couldn’t stop. She’d demanded he finish the job. Gulping back his disgust, he tried to forget the mess on his armor and continue working..

But like always, he just couldn’t forget the mess that was him. He felt disgustingly grimy. His very core seemed to want to backfire in nausea. Again, he tried in vain to forget it. To tell himself that he could wait until the job was done before he cleaned up. But he couldn’t. Climbing down the ladder, he gave into his urge. Going to the garage, he fetched the supplies he needed to clean his armor off.

“Are you done with the gutters?” she asked as she leveled a steely glare at him.

The waxing rag dropped from his hand. With a gulp, he looked up. He’d been busted again. He hadn’t finished the job first. Glancing down at his half-clean armor, he then glanced back up at her. “No ma-am, tar got on my armor,” he admitted.

She hit him with her broom. “Fuck your armor!” she snarled. Grabbing his arm, she roughly forced him to his feet. He reached down to grab the rag, only to yelp as she hit his hand. “You will NOT clean yourself up! You got that?!” she growled. She dragged him in the house, then down into the basement. They ended up in front of the storm shelter. “Get in there,” she ordered as she opened the heavy metal door.

“But.. But.. Please give me another chance! I’ll do it right this time – I swear!” he pleaded. The darkness of the small room frightened him. He hated this punishment! All he’d have is a weather radio and a mattress for company.

“Get in there you damned useless clone. You have such a damned ego over nothing! You are nothing but a machine. An ugly machine!” she screamed as he dove in.

Tears streamed down his face as those heavy metal doors clanged shut. What had gone so wrong? She’d once said that she loved him… That she adored him… He crawled over to the mattress with a sad sigh and grabbed the weather radio. Turning it on, he listened to the familiar crackling voice of the weatherman. It lulled him into defrag…

He’d woken up as the house seemed to buck around him! Screaming in terror, he’d raced to the door, banging to be let out. But no one listened to his cries. Sobbing, he’d gone to the mattress and huddled against the foundation wall. That’s when the radio told him what was happening. A big earthquake had come! People needed to get away from buildings.. Get away from falling debris.. But Flame was trapped.. And then the S-waves hit. The house fell down**…

.. Flame gasped for air as the memory echo finally left him. Just like everyone had left him. Left him to die a living death… He stared up at the flashes coming through the cracks in the rubble above him. He’d been trapped here for weeks already. And his battery.. His freagin’ battery wouldn’t be out of juice for another twenty years.. He couldn’t die.. He was trapped..

He felt that pounding in his core again. That strange pulsing that had started when his owner had loved him, had cherished him.. Whimpering, he just wished his systems would fail him. She’d abandoned him. Abandoned him because he was just an ugly machine! Something she couldn’t bear to look at anymore, much less love.

Even if she ever came back, he was useless to her now anyways. His lower chassis crushed under tons of concrete. His optics now cracked and his ability to focus clearly – was shot. Hell, he didn’t want to see well anyways. His once beautiful armor was in shambles. Coated in mud and muck… Flame just wanted to die..

He looked up at those flashes again. They seemed to multiply amongst themselves when they hit his cracked lenses. Maybe this time a tornado would come close enough? Close enough to shift the rubble and smash him? He ground his dental plates together at the thought. The wish that maybe, just maybe, his brief life of hell – would be over soon…

---

A rumble of large machinery grew nearer. Flame looked wildly about him. Had they come for him?!? He began to scream for help. His vocal processor so hoarse that his words came out as croaks. The rubble around him shifted as he heard the bobcat run into it.

Again and again, the bobcat ran into the rubble. Taking huge scoops of it, and hauled it to an ever enlarging pile. Sunlight fell brightly onto the clone’s cracked optics as the area was cleared above him. He began to wave his arms. Hoping that they’d see him… That his owner had decided that his punishment was over.. Had decided to send someone to find him..

“Hey Frank, somethins’ down there! Stop the cat,” a man’s voice yelled.

The diesel engine of the bobcat slowed to idle. Two men carefully crawled down. “Britney?” Flame asked… “Britney?”

“Must be the lady’s clone. It was listed amongst her property,” one of them said. His voice had the accent of a Mexican immigrant. Flame felt him nudge his shoulder. Most likely with a foot…

A hand felt along his hood. Weight from a human bearing down on him, as one of the men laid down on him and reached under the blocks trapping his lower chassis. He whimpered in pain. It just hurt so much.. So much..

“We could try to jack it up. Drag it out with straps hooked to the cat. But it’s wrecked,” the man with a Californian accent said. The weight lifted off Flame as he stood back up.

“Well, the insurance company will want it. Guess we should salvage it,” the immigrant said.

“Britney? Where’s master Britney?” Flame asked, his voice becoming distraught.

“Dead. The insurance company owns you now,” the Californian told him.

They dragged him free and piled him up with the rest of the salvaged items. Covering the pile with a tarp, they left. Days went by. Days where Flame laid there whimpering in pain. Distraught that no one loved him now. No one owned him now. Grabbing a soiled pillow, he curled his arms around it. Kissing it lightly, he buried his face plate into it. His tears soaking into its filthy surface as he wept.

And so the days slowly passed under the tarp. The wreck that had once been sold as the most beautiful of clones waited for his fate. His meta cracking beneath the agony of his damage and the knowledge of being alone. He began to rock his upper chassis slightly. His arms gripped tightly around the softness of the filthy pillow. His only comfort in a world of pain and loneliness now…

This is how the insurance adjuster found him. After making some notes, he left. Not bothering to actually help the damaged clone. After all, it was just a damaged machine. It couldn’t feel.. It couldn’t think…

Several more days passed. A crew came to sort through the mess. They’d brought a crate. Ignoring his groans of pain, they crammed him in it. He cringed with each bang of the hammer as they pounded nails into the crate and sealed him in. He was going back to the factory now. Going to be finally repaired! But he couldn’t spend the trip in defrag. He was just in far too much pain now. So as the box was moved, he ground his dental plates together and gripped his dirty pillow tighter. At least they’d left him that…

Time passed slowly. He felt his crate being loaded and unloaded from truck to truck and then on a plane of some sort. The downward press of gravity as it took off had him groaning in pain. But the flight was brief, too brief. They landed roughly. His audios picking up the faint words of the pilot and copilot as they debarked from the plane… Something about a volcano..

And then he just sat there. Weeks going by without any movement of his crate… He whimpered like a trapped animal.. Just like other clones in the abandoned refurbishment shipment.. Kissing his dirty pillow.. His world nothing but pain.. Nothing to take his meta off it.. Nothing to think about but being alone.. Unloved.. Unwanted.. Ugly.. Oh, so ugly..

----

“What in the frag?” Speed snorted as he pried the lid off the next crate with a sparked clone inside. Instead of shipping peanuts, the clone had been padded with dirty newspapers, shreds of house insulation, and various other things that he couldn’t even begin to identify.

But the clone’s head lifted. His cracked blue optics glowed in full activation. “Factory? Am I at the factory?” he asked in a barely audible voice. His vision was so blurred and out-of-focus that he couldn’t tell where he was. He licked his parched lips. But he had no more lubricant to spare for saliva. So his dry glossa just made a scraping sound as it passed over his lips. He had been in that crate so long… So long..

“Hmmmm, looks like he used to be a Sunstreaker model,” Spock noted. “But the material they used in packing him is substandard. They should be admonished for this.” His tone indicated his great disapproval for the lack of care shown to the clone. Well, what was left of the clone. He began to help Speed remove the packing material so that they could lift their patient out.

“Nooooo! Mine!” the barely recognizable Sunstreaker clone sobbed as the medics tried to pull the pillow from his arms. He gripped it even tighter to himself.

“Loser’s gone nuts, just like Scream did,” the Drag Strip clone muttered. He gave the pillow a great tug. It split in two. Feathers flew everywhere as he did so.

The clone began to shriek hysterically. He panicked, waving his arms as he tried desperately to put his pillow back together. His only comfort.. The only thing that an ugly clone like him could touch…

Spock began to slap his hands away. Grumbling as he tried to clear the rest of the pillow’s remnants out of his way. This only served to make the wreck sob even louder.

“Stop! Stop you two!” Jester yelled. He slammed down his laptop on the nearest table and ran over. Something about the distraught voice of a Sunstreaker clone just tore his spark in two. He ran up and pushed the medics away. “Shhhh, here you go buddy,” he said. He whipped one of the stuffed animals he used for magic tricks out and pressed it into the distraught clone’s arms.

“Soft… Mmmmm…” the Sunstreaker wreck mumbled as he calmed down. He held the soft pink bunny to his chest, stroking its fluffy fur. He couldn’t see anything but a red blur. But the voice of the clone who’d given it to him was familiar.

…A flash of a memory echo passed over his meta. A concerned Sideswipe leaning over him, his hands running over his chassis… “Man you took a bad hit bro! I’ll get you to the medics. Don’t worry,” he said as he put his arms under him…

“Shhhh, I’ve got you,” the Sideswipe clone said as he lifted him up. Pain streaked through Flame as his lower chassis moved. He whimpered, gripping the stuffed bunny even tighter as he buried his face plate into the red clone’s chest armor.

He felt himself carried for a few steps, then laid down on a hard surface. The Sideswipe clone pulling his arms out from under him. “D.. Don’t leave me..” he gasped in between his weak groans of pain. He was all alone. No one loved him. No one had even shown him any kindness until the Sideswipe clone had given him the soft stuffed animal. The very first gift anyone had ever given him… He looked pleadingly up at the red blur of the Sideswipe clone..

The clone moved to stand at the end of the exam table, right above Flame’s helm. His fingers caressed the dented audio panels. “Don’t worry bro, I’ll stay here with you,” he promised.

Flame cringed as he felt hands taking off his abdominal armor. They reached inside him from both sides. The medics talked to each other, deciding to disconnect all of his networks from his lower half. He yelped and clung to the bunny as they began to do so. But then the pain was gone. All sensation from chest down was gone. He actually gave a weak sigh of relief. “No pain… No pain..” he whispered to the bunny.

He felt the friendly Sideswipe clone pat his shoulder armor. “We’ll get you fixed, don’t worry about that. So what’s your name buddy?” he asked.

“Flame. My name’s Flame… Until.. Until I have a new owner.. Mine’s dead.. Alone.. Alone..” Mineral oil filled his cracked optics as he began to cry again.

“Well I’m Jester. And your not alone Flame. You got me,” the red clone said in a soft voice. Leaning down, he kissed the top of the dented helm. “And I’m not going to leave you. Got that? We’re brothers. Just like the mechs we’re cloned from.”

“Brothers?” Flame asked. Did this mean that Jester’s owner was now his? That was the only way clones could refer to themselves as such. “Your master is buying me?” His voice was hopeful.. So hopeful.. He felt that strange pulse in his core beat faster.

“No buddy. They can’t own us, we’re sentient,” Jester replied. He stroked the filthy dented helm as he spoke. His emotions becoming conflicted as he felt a strong attachment to this twin already. But he was part of TC’s family. And he didn’t know if TC would want to possibly have to share Sharon with another clone.

“But I need an owner… Need to be wanted by a human. Britney said I’m an ugly machine.. Didn’t like me anymore… She died.. I wasn’t ugly then… But.. But I’m too ugly now aren’t I? Too ugly,” the wreck sobbed.

“Naw, you’re not ugly, you’re just damaged. That’s all. These guys will fix you up,” Jester promised. He gently rubbed the wreck’s cheek. Something about consoling a Sunstreaker about his damaged armor seemed familiar. Like he’d done it many, many times before… But they had been cloned from twins, so perhaps Sunstreaker the mech had suffered similar damage during battle. He was known for being kind of vain. Maybe his clones had that same vanity? If so, it made sense that Flame would blame his lack of a human on his looks.

“Hate to interrupt your little conversation, but would you hold him down? We’re going to have to completely disconnect his lower chassis from him. It’s beyond repair,” Spock said with a curt nod at Jester.

“That bad huh?” Jester asked. “So how’re you two going to fix him then?” He placed his hands on Flame’s shoulders. With a strong grip he held him still while the two medics basically cut the guy in half.

Speed shrugged. “There’s a Sideswipe model in the refurbish shipment. Loser was stage 3, so we’re just going to take his lower half and attach it to this freager.” He tugged hard on Flame’s legs, the sheered bolts giving way with a loud pop. With a victorious grunt, he pulled the twisted metal that had once been the Sunstreaker clone’s legs off of the table. “Slagger will just be two-tone,” he smirked. Tossing the refuse into their trash crate, he trotted over to the crate with the infected Sideswipe clone inside.

“Humans don’t want me.. Too ugly now..” Flame sobbed. He was glad that he couldn’t see more than blurred shapes. He was ugly. And the repair job was going to make him even uglier. He’d be nothing more than a mis-matched wreck! What self-respecting human would even want to look at him now?!?

“Naw, I got an idea,” Jester quipped as he patted the depressed clone. “Do you want to be metallic silver, or metallic gold?”

Flame sniffed back his tears. The friendly clone was actually giving him a choice to make?!? Clones didn’t make choices, they just followed orders! But could he really choose a new paint job? “I can choose?” he sniffed.

“Yep, me and Silver ran across some auto paint in one of the cargo jets in here. Ya, it’s actually supposed to be trim paint, but it’s the top shit.. And I think there’s enough to do a whole clone – if we’re careful.” His hands squeezed Flame’s shoulders. “What about a base coat of metallic gold with metallic silver flames running on your sides? It’d look killer!”

The wreck finally smiled as a vision of his alt mode painted up like that filled his meta. Yes, it was a beautiful custom look! He’d be even more gorgeous than he’d been coming out of the factory! “You mean the paint with the glitter in it?” he asked. His voice getting stronger as happiness began to overcome his fear of having no owner. If he was gorgeous again, surely a human would want him?

“That’s the stuff. You want it?” Jester asked. His optics gleamed with eagerness to begin painting.

“Would your owner like it?” Flame asked hopefully. He wanted to be beautiful again, but he also wanted to have a human. Clones were meant to have a human. And if the Sideswipe clone’s human would like it, it would be even that much more spectacular!

“Um, you could be naked and I would still like you,” a young woman’s voice said.

Flame turned his optics to the dark blur that spoke to him. It was a human! And she said she’d like him. “Would you buy me? Please?” he pleaded. He didn’t care who she was or really even what she looked like. Well, maybe it was stretching it on that last one. He did hope she was pretty. But even if she was ugly, he’d still find a way to be happy. To be wanted by a human was one of his most pressing needs. It almost surpassed his need to be fully repaired with a perfect paint job.

“Well we can’t own you guys. But I could adopt you. You could be one of my partners. Would you like that?” she offered. Her voice sounded young. Much younger than Britney had been… But Flame didn’t care. A human that wanted him – was a human that would appreciate him when he was repaired and beautiful again!

Jester patted Flame gently. “The other humans in our unit don’t think Torie’s old enough for any interfacing yet. And you’d have a hybrid Vortex/Onslaught clone for a brother. He’s ok. Got the Onslaught meta so he can actually THINK,” he snickered.

Flame frowned slightly. Vortex clones were ugly. And he really didn’t care for the thought of sharing his human with one of those. Well, when this human was old enough for that. But did he really have much of a choice. She sounded nice. She said she liked him, even as wrecked as he was. So he figured he could possibly bring himself to handle the thought of sharing her with an ugly clone. Maybe it just wouldn’t be very often?

“You like him too, don’t you Jester?” Torie asked. She’d easily spotted that flash of sadness on his face plate when the wreck had asked her to buy him. Something about him was attracting the Sideswipe clone. She could just tell. “It’s cool with me. Just be straight.”

“Well yah. But I don’t know if TC could handle another brother. You know how he is with Sharon and all,” Jester admitted with slightly downcast optics.

Torie walked up to the Sideswipe clone. Looking up at the much taller clone, the teenager grinned. “Same with Storm and me. So hey, make a deal with you. He can be one of my partners, but you two can date and - you know.” She held up her fist.

Flame tried to hide his frown since he sensed the young female was very close to him. The connotation that her current clone was the jealous type did not bode well for him. But surely when he was fully repaired Torie would realize that HE was the better of the two? Surely she’d then show preference for him over the ugly Combaticon hybrid? After all, it was her choice, not her clones…

The Sideswipe clone bumped Torie’s fist with his. TC had never had a problem with him joining Scream and sharing his fuck buddies back home, so surely he wouldn’t mind it if Jester dated another clone. That’s what Sharon and Scream had told the clones to do with these new sparked clones. To get them to warm up, loosen up, and willingly ‘date’ them. And it would give the Thundercracker clone more ‘alone time’ with Sharon. Jester grinned, a feeling of happiness coming over him as he realized just how easily he could get TC to let him date this clone twin of his. He patted Flame on his shoulder plate. “Well buddy, looks like you have a human, and a mentor clone now. I’ll get all your armor. And me and Silver will start working on it right away!”

The teenager looked down at the wreck on the table. Speed and Spock were busily working on separating an infected Sideswipe clone’s lower chassis so that they could attach it to this one’s. She couldn’t really tell what the guy was going to look like. But it didn’t really matter to the girl. After all, she adored Storm, and he wasn’t much to look at. But she’d heard the loneliness in the wreck’s voice, and it had drawn her to him. Hesitantly, she laid her hand on his filthy chest armor. “What’s your name bro?” She thought it was kind’ve cute that the clone was gripping a pink bunny.

“Flame,” he replied. Warmth spread through what remained of him at her light touch. Taking one of his hands from his stuffed animal, he gingerly reached for her fingers. He smiled as she allowed him to curl them around hers. Here he was. Not even half of him left lying on that table. So wrecked, that she probably couldn’t even tell what model he was. Yet, she was willing to take him in! He loved her already! Just wait until he was fixed up. Then she’d see the gorgeous clone that he really was. She’d never look at that Combaticon of hers again!

“So what model is he?” she asked Jester. She rubbed the wreck’s trembling fingers.

“Sunstreaker, my mech’s twin,” he replied. Reaching down, he caressed the tear stained cheek of the clone. Yes, Flame would be gorgeous when they finished with him. Truly a sight to be seen! Jester could almost feel the smooth perfection of that gold armor under his fingertips… Of the clone begging him to take him.. To teach him.. He shook his head slightly, getting the fantasy out of his meta.

So he wasn’t a flyer. Torie was a little saddened by that. She had always seemed to be attracted to the flyers more. But hey, a clone was a clone. They were all good. They were all loyal. And unlike people, when a clone gave you his word – he stuck to it! Her eyes roved over Jester. If they were twins, then Flame would look a lot like him. And Jester was one of the better looking ones. “So he’ll be as gorgeous as you when he’s all fixed up?” she asked. Her compliment there for all to hear…

Flame swelled up his chest a bit. Frankly, since that was pretty much the only thing he had left that he could swell up. He smiled up at the blurry dark sharp of the girl. “He’s got nothing on me!” His pride swelled into his vocal processor. Though he didn’t look like much now, he would – soon!

“Cocky nigga aren’t you?” Torie laughed. Bending down, she kissed the mineral oil streaked cheek. “Just remember, Jester may be a joker – but he’ll catch you in a prank faster than you can blink. So don’t mess with the gangsta,” she whispered.

First Aid came over and began to slowly unlatch and remove every bit of Flame’s remaining armor. Soon, Jester’s arms were piled high with it. Afterward Flame laid there looking like a cybernetic manikin without its skin. Spock and Speed began the intricate process of connecting the internal structural elements and networks from Flame’s torso to his new lower chassis.

As they worked on giving him a lower body, the quiet white medic changed out his optic lenses. Slowly, the world came back into focus. Flame blinked a few times, adjusting to the new clarity. He looked down at his hands first, curious to see what he’d been holding for all these hours. His optics widened in a mixture of dismay and amusement as he held the stuffed animal up. “A pink bunny. Of all the things he could’ve given me, it had to be pink!” He did have to admit it was as funny as it was emasculating.

“I think it’s cute,” Torie said. She was sitting on some crates, out of the way of the medics. It was rather fascinating to watch them putting her clone back together. It was like a human without skin. His linkages, servos and bundled lines of network cables ran over the surface of his primary core and metal infrastructure. The only ‘skin’ that remained, was his face, neck and hands.

Flame focused his optics on her. His identifier programs logged her image in. The image of his new human! He approximated her age as being between 15 and 17. She was ethnically African American of a medium skin tone. Her weight would be considered normal for her stature. This he estimated at around 5’4”. Her hair was about 1 ½ inches in length, and in need of some attention. But he could tell by her facial features and developing curves, that she would indeed mature into a fairly attractive woman. This pleased him for some reason. But since she thought the stuffed bunny was ‘cute’, he wiggled it a little. “Not as cute as you.”

“Cocky, and slick. Nigga, you will so fit in here,” she grinned. Hopping down from the crate, she walked over and stood next to Spock. She stood next to Flame’s new legs, with the medic between her and the clone’s waist. Looking down at Flame’s naked chassis, she was fascinated by it all. She watched the two medics as they finished connecting the clone together.

But her eyes were drawn to his crotch area, like any teenager’s attention would be. Cocking her head, she visually studied the inactive systems. Looked a LOT different from a boy’s! His exposed cable hatch had the deflated unit curled around a central support like a garden hose. She looked further down between his legs, at the two exposed port entrances. “So it’s true! You guys are both guys and girls, huh?” she asked.

“That is correct,” the Hook clone stated in a flat, all business tone. He welded another strut together as he responded.

“Geese, didn’t you know that? What a loser,” Speed quipped. He nodded to Spock as he held another section together for the Constructicon clone to weld.

Torie reached over Flame and smacked Speed on his helm. “Don’t call me a loser, bitch,” she taunted. “After all, I’m not a whore like you are. All I hear every night is ‘Daniel, Daniel, Harder, Harder!’ keep it up, and we’re goin’ to so duct tape that big mouth of yours!”

Speed snorted as he gave her an appraising glance. “You an what army?”

Spock smirked as he looked up. “May I offer the services of the Constructicon gestalt?” he offered. The gleam in his red optics was unmistakable.

“I’ve got some spare duct tape,” Doc offered. The First Aid clone gave Speed an almost apologetic smile.

“No, your tape isn’t strong enough for THAT trap. I’ve got some industrial strength duct tape in my tool chest,” McCoy said in a loud voice. He glanced up from the patient that he was working on, a big grin on his face.

“Maybe you should just keep Silver’s cable in your mouth from now on?” Torie teased as she gave the Drag Strip clone a victorious grin.

“Freagin’ losers, take all nine of ya to do it!” Speed muttered. But he went back to the repair job, knowing he’d better not push it, or he’d be facing nine beings – all bent on duct taping him to god-knows-what! Those weren’t winning odds by any means.

----

“Well, we’ve done what we can. But he doesn’t need to walk until Jester and Silver are done with his armor and get it back on him. It would create too much undo pressure on his sensors on those weight bearing regions,” Spock stated. He stepped back, gathering his tools and getting prepped for the next job.

“And keep him warm too. He has no insulation right now,” Doc advised. He patted Flame lightly on his bare shoulder and walked off.

“I’ll carry him,” a voice said from behind Torie.

Turning around, a big smile crossed her face. “Oh Storm! You’re finally done with that boring training!” she exclaimed. Burying herself in the Vortex hybrid’s arms, she gave him a big hug.

“Strategy is important, it is not ‘boring’,” he informed her. Then his optics fell onto the naked clone, who was now slowly sitting himself up. “Jester informed me that you have chosen to adopt this clone,” he stated. His tone seemed somewhat – tense… His optics gleamed in disapproval.

Torie pulled out of his arms and patted Flame’s new leg. “Yep. Storm – this is Flame. Flame – this is Storm. You are now brothers,” she introduced.

Storm politely offered his hand. But he wasn’t thrilled with this new development. He had no interest in obtaining a brother. Had no interest in the future possibility of sharing Torie’s interest. “I wished you had conferred with me prior to your decision,” he said as he turned back to Torie. He’d gotten used to being almost an ‘equal’ with his young commander. Now that he was sentient, he was merely waiting for the girl to be deemed mature. Then he would stand as her equal and mate. This was his future plan: To be hers and she - his…

She giggled and patted his arm. He was jealous, plain and simple. Oh, how good it felt to have a clone jealous! “Don’t worry Storm, Jester wants to date him.”

Storm considered this development. He could handle sharing her love, providing the other clone found physical satisfaction elsewhere for the most part. A thin smile crossed his face behind his battle mask. “If that it so, I welcome you – brother.” With that, he effortlessly picked up the armorless clone in his arms.

----

They settled themselves on the mats that formed a large circle. This was the troop’s morning and evening gathering spot. A place where all the humans, clones and mechs sat and socialized… The cooking ‘oven’ that Speed had built was just off to the side of it. Blue and Shado were now using it as they helped each other create some type of meal from the scavenged supplies.

Storm gently set Flame down on the cushioned floor. “I will go and find some suitable human clothes to help insulate you until your armor is finished,” he stated as he left them.

Torie smiled as she sat down next to the naked clone. There was a chill in the air. The volcanic winter beginning its long grip on the land as the life giving rays from the sun were blocked. She grabbed one of the many throw blankets neatly folded next to the mats. “Here, let’s put some of these around you until he’s back,” she said. Unfolding it, she laid one over his new legs and tucked it behind his aft. Grabbing another one, she put it over his shoulders. Storm was right, underneath all that armor the clones were shaped ‘human enough’ to fit into men’s clothes.

Flame began a strange humming as she touched him here and there while she covered him up. His systems grew warm. He gripped the silly pink bunny a little tighter as he tried to deny the sensory impulses flying through his networks. But she was so tender, so caring towards him. So different from his former owner! But he’d been warned that Torie was too young for interface.. That he wasn’t even going to be interfacing much with her even when she was.. He ground his dental plates together, trying to ignore the throbbing of his cable wanting activation. Of his ports becoming lubricated… The fact that they weren’t protected beneath armor and were rubbing against the soft mat beneath him made it even harder to ignore.

“What’s wrong?” the girl asked. Flame felt hot to her touch. Too hot.. And that strange hum was getting louder and louder.

“Systems are activating.. Your touch.. I apologize..” the Sunstreaker clone admitted. His blue optics searched her face, hoping she wouldn’t get mad like Britney used to.

Torie gave him a strange look at first. Not quite understanding what he meant. But then it hit her like a ton of bricks. She blushed as she giggled slightly. “I’m turning you on?” she whispered in slight disbelief.

He nodded. “I’m sorry.. I know you’re too young,” he replied. His fingers kneaded the bunny anxiously.

The girl sat down next to him, mulling over it. Storm never got turned on by her touch. He enjoyed it, but didn’t get turned on by it since he didn’t have the programs installed yet. But obviously Flame had the programs. Torie was curious.. Very curious.. “So, did your former owner use you for sex?”

“Yes, she did. When she still liked me,” Flame admitted. Now that the girl wasn’t touching him, his systems were cooling down. He relaxed a bit. He glanced at her, his optics meeting her dark brown eyes. They were drawn to her hair again. Hair that needed tending to..

Her eyes were full of thought. “Can you copy those programs and transfer them to Storm?” she asked. Hell, she was going to be seventeen tomorrow. And it wasn’t like she was a virgin or anything. Virgin to clone sex, but not a virgin to sex! It wasn’t like she’d been a slut or anything. But she had messed around a couple of times in the high school’s bathroom…

“I think I can. But Torie?” the clone asked. He gripped the bunny a little harder. Hoping that he wouldn’t piss her or his new ‘brother clone’ off… But how could she do that ugly Vortex hybrid – and not him? He would be gorgeous again soon.. But there was an attachment between the girl and Storm. An attachment that Flame didn’t know if he could join… And he wanted to join it somehow. Wanted Storm to share her somehow..

A happy smile crossed her face. So she COULD have Storm if she wanted him! And Sharon couldn’t stop her now! Oh, was she going to have some fun on her birthday tomorrow… “What?”

“Do you like me enough to also interface with me? I know Storm is possessive, but..” he didn’t need to finish his sentence. Somehow he knew from the look on her face that she knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Tell you what. We’ll like take our time. And if you smooze him enough, he’ll chill out and maybe want you to join us,” she whispered with a wink. She was already imagining some really wild and hot sex that she could have with two of them. They were both hers weren’t they? So why not? Even though Storm was her babe – she had room for this poor guy. In this new world of accepted clone-human relationships, a girl didn’t have to settle with just one ‘man’. Although she would share Flame with Jester, she’d kind of promised to. And it would make it easier for Storm to accept it all. “But Jester really, really likes you. So I think you can hang with him and get some too.” She elbowed him and gave him a knowing smirk.

“So you’re telling me to engage in clone-to-clone interface? But we aren’t designed for it,” Flame countered. He longed for human contact, not clone. The Sideswipe clone was nice. And he did feel a strange familiarity.. A strange longing to be around him.. But he was a clone, not a human.

Torie shrugged. “They might to force you to accept it anyway. Clones do this thing called spark bonding or something. It’s like you brothers crave it once you experience it. And that’s something you CAN’T do with me.” She smiled at the bundled up clone, patting his leg through the blankets. It was cool to be the one teaching a clone what was expected in the ‘dating scene’. Made her feel important, not just some dumb teen.

“So in this society that I’m now in, the humans encourage us to have clone pairings as well as pair with a human?” the clone asked. He shivered slightly at the thought of clone hands gliding over his newly painted armor that he would soon have. It was both bothersome and slightly erotic when you thought about it. Another clone WOULD know his sensitive spots… Britney had never really cared to..

“That is correct,” Storm’s voice answered. He strolled up, carrying a folded bundle of human clothes. “And some clones have chosen to involve themselves in permanent clone relationships now. They seem, highly satisfied, with them.” Kneeling down on his knee armor, he nodded for the blanket-covered clone to take off the blankets. Then he and Torie began to help him get the human clothes on. The hybrid Vortex/Onslaught clone did hope that the Sunstreaker clone would eventually end up in one of those clone relationships. It would make life easier.

After figuring out the tangle of the loose jogging pants and sweat shirt, Flame grinned as he pulled the NFL knit hat on. At least everything seemed to match! Granted, he now looked like a fanatical Steelers fan. But he did enjoy the fact that the colors were yellow and black. For some reason he really did prefer wearing yellow/gold armor to any other color. Even if it was ‘cloth armor’…. He smiled in gratitude at Storm. “Thanks. It looks good on me!”

Torie giggled. “What a fuckin’ ego you got there nigga,” she teased.

“A clone’s gotta look his best,” Flame replied with a cocky grin. Just wait until they saw him in his custom paint job. He just couldn’t wait until Jester and Silver were finally done! But then his optics were drawn back to his human’s hair. “Do you have a pick?” he asked.

“Ya, why? Is my hair that bad?” she snorted. She touched her developing afro with her hand, wishing she had a mirror. But she did pull a small hair pick out of her back pocket.

“May I braid it up? You would look stunning in some tight ones!” Flame said. Eagerly, he reached his hand out for the hair pick. He wanted his human to look her best. And Britney had always made him braid up her hair. She’d said it saved her enough money to justify buying him.

“You can braid?!?” Torie asked in disbelief. Heck, it’d cost $150 to have her hair properly done. And here she had a clone who seemed very eager to spending those long hours in doing it..

Flame smiled, happy that he had pleased his new owner so easily. He patted his lap. “While don’t you lay down while I do the sides first? It’ll take a couple of hours.” Grabbing the extra Steelers knit cap that Storm had brought him; he began to pull out some of the yellow yarn. She would look great with it going through her braids. That way, she’d also match him a bit. Flame envisioned the girl with the yellow yarn in her braids standing next to him in his newly painted armor. A beautiful vision! Yes, very beautiful!

The girl squealed happily. Laying her head down in his lap, she closed her eyes in total joy. She felt Storm sit down as well. The hybrid clone picking her feet up, putting them in his lap and pulling her boots off. A sigh escaped her lips. She had a ‘man’ doing her hair and another one massaging her feet. What more could a girl ever want?

---

Jester glanced up from his work on the armor in front of him. Looking across the large hangar, he focused his sharp optics in on the trio lounging on the mats. Flame did look funny all covered up in the Steelers gear, but he looked happy as he worked away on braiding his human’s hair. But what Jester really liked was the fact that Storm and Flame were not touching. True, they were ‘brothers’ because they called the same human ‘theirs’. And would probably interface every now-and-then…. But there didn’t seem to be any true physical attraction between them.

And since Jester felt himself heating up slightly by just looking at Flame, he knew that once he had the clone. He wouldn’t be too keen on sharing him much. The Sunstreaker clone was just too hot, too sexy.. And the Sideswipe clone couldn’t wait to ‘break him in’. His cable stirred just thinking about it…

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Note: Don't worry, more smexy action coming up in the next chapter! I just couldn't resist bringing Sideswipe's twin into the mix. Something about that gold mech..... sigh...

BTW I'm a slut for reviews and pairing 'challenges'. So slather on the lube and give it to me!
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The New Age - (Market Commodity book II)