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Age of the Machine (Market Comodity 3)	By : Scienceteacher Category: Transformers > G1 > Round Robins Views: 6356 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Do not own Transformers/Hasbro, Am not making a dime off of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-A.o.M. part 1
- 2-A.o.M. 2
- 3-A.o.M 3
- 4-A.oM.4
- 5-AoM 5
- 6-AoM 6
- 7-AoM 7
- 8-AoM 8
- 9-AoM 8-1/2
- 10-AoM 9
- 11-AoM 10
- 12-AoM 11
- 13-AoM 12
- 14-Once upon a time
- 15-AoM 13
- 16-AoM 14
- 17-AoM 15
- 18-AoM 16
- 19-AoM 17
- 20-Family Ties
- 21-AoM 18
- 22-Family Ties Pt 2
- 23-AoM19
- 24-Family Ties Pt 3
- 25-AoM 20
- 26-Family Ties Pt 4
- 27-AoM 21
- 28-AOM 22
- 12
- 13
- 14
Age of the Machine Part 12

**Written by StSE; Universes G1, BW and AF**

Note: Sorry it’s been a while, probably be even longer after this one. Been battling some serious Carpal Tunnel and work’s been taking over my life as of late! The encouragement from the last review got me to thinking about Clones again… Thanks!

BTW, I’m exploring the two different ways I view Megatron’s psych with Tron and Glock. Tron is the total sociopath side – whereas Glock is everything that Megatron could’ve been if he wasn’t a sociopath.

-------

“Whacha think ya’re lookin’ at?” Rumble snorted. His optics gleamed as they narrowed in a not-so-silent challenge to the clone.

Shrugging, Opie tried to think of what he should say. It wasn’t that he didn’t know what to say, but his new inclination of thought wouldn’t exactly match his ‘old’ demeanor. He WANTED to praise the young mech on the impressive buffing job he was doing on the alt-mode Autobot geologist – but that would seem too confident, too ‘Optimus Prime’ – for the old Opie to do. And Glock had been very VERY clear that he had to retain the guise of his old persona for the time being.

Unfortunately, Glock didn’t seem to realize how hard ‘acting’ was for a Prime clone. It was as unnatural for them – as being happy as a lowly grunt was for a Megatron clone. But Opie had to try; obviously Glock had a good long-term plan. And he wasn’t about to be the one to ruin it for his friend. Swallowing, he forced his optics away from Rumble’s, feigning the timidness that had once been so intrinsic a part of him. “Nothing Rumble,” grinding his dental plates together, he forced himself to continue the act, “uh, hi Beachcomber.” Briefly, as if almost too afraid to do it, he looked up and met Clipper’s friendly optics. “Hi Clipper.”

“Pathetic excuse for a freagin’ Prime clone I tell you,” the Decepticon muttered under his breath as he went back to work on the Autobot’s hood.

“Chill out dude,” Beachcomber replied. Carefully he transformed, making sure to stay crouched so as not to rip his trailer apart. It was a good ‘garage’ for getting out of the weather, but a semi trailer wasn’t exactly the right size for a full-sized mech in bot mode. Sitting down with crossed legs, he gave the Prime clone one of his half-baked smiles – even as Rumble made a point to plop himself firmly in his lap. The geologist still couldn’t believe how possessive the little mech had gotten now that he not only had a clone, but a full-sized mech – to ‘call his own’. “Did Spock send you to change out my headlight man?” he asked Opie.

Opie’s optics widened slightly in surprise, he’d been so wrapped up in trying to balance how he now felt like acting to how he should be acting – he’d totally forgotten that Spock had even mentioned that! Before he could react, he felt a solid arm going over his back armor.

“It’s nice seeing you Opie. And thanks for taking the time to come by.” Clipper snapped his hydraulics sharply, pulling the timid Prime clone tightly against his side for the briefest of moments before releasing him with a comradely pat. It was a ‘man-to-man’ gesture of respect and acceptance that he’d learned from Daniel, and had made his own. “We know how busy you are – now that you’re the top field medic in the Unit.” He shot Rumble a look as he said that. The look that Rumble knew meant ‘don’t push it’.

With an exaggerated roll of his optics, the Decepticon leaned back against HIS big mech. He still thought everyone was giving this wimp-of-a-Prime-clone way too much lovey-dovy slag crap. Someone should just beat the clone up a few times and give him a cable. That’s how timid mechs got tough in the Decepticon ranks! But when Clipper gave him THAT freagin’ look – he’d better not push the point. Last time he’d done that, he’d been on the receiving end of one of those insane helicopter rides; then the freager had shown him that he could slag him like a proper Decepticon – and that was BEFORE Rumble had his gyros restabilized! There were good things about an Autobot-Decepticon hybrid clone – and bad things too….

“Yes, uh,” Opie’s meta was running fast as he tried to decide how to respond. God it was hard to be as slick glossa’d as Glock! He moved towards Beachcomber’s hood – and the Decepticon perched possessively in the mech’s lap. “I need to see if it’s just a wiring issue first.” Without thinking about it, he pushed Rumble just slightly to the side. Something he would’ve NEVER dared to do just a few days ago! But he now had no fear since his programming was repaired….

Optics flying open wide in outrage over the perceived insult, Rumble did what came naturally. He punched at the useless clone with a solid right hook….

…And was completely caught off guard as Opie slipped to the side, grabbing his wrist servo right behind his fist, and flung him hard against the semi trailer wall as if he was nothing but an annoying rag doll! With a snarl, the mech leapt to his peds and ran at the medic. He didn’t care who it was! NO ONE MADE RUMBLE LOOK LIKE A FOOL!!!!

Clipper caught the mech before he made it across the span. He was as surprised as Rumble by Opie’s response – but being one of the quickest meta’d hybrids – he wasn’t about to let it escalate. Even as he grappled with his boyfriend in order to contain him – his processor noted that Opie flashed a look of complete battle-confidence as he spun to face the onrushing Decepticon – before suddenly dropping his optics and slouching in a submissive pose again. It was something that Clipper would find himself replaying in his meta over and over in the coming years…

“LET ME AT HIM YOU PIECE OF SLAG!!!” Rumble yelled, straining against the hybrid’s grip. All he was focused on was ripping Opie a new one. The loser needed it!

“There is no need for violence Rumble.” Like all good Magnus clones – the hybrid had immediately clicked into his ‘peace negotiator’ mode. Not that it usually worked on his temperamental mate, but it was always worth a try.

“PRIMUS-DAMNED PIECE OF SLAG CLONE TOUCHED ME! RUMBLE’S GONNA RIP HIM APART! LET ME AT ‘IM!!!” Rumble pushed hard, trying to break free of Clipper’s grip. Granted this tactic hadn’t worked with the hybrid in the past, but Rumble wasn’t exactly the type to bother learning things like that.

With a resigned sigh, the Magnus hybrid transformed – engulfing the enraged mech within his belly compartment. Muffled curses and bangs emanated from within him as Rumble fought to break out. “Please forgive Rumble, he gets carried away sometimes,” he said to Opie. With a flash of rotors, he headed out the back of the trailer. Sometimes the only way to get Rumble to calm down – was to take him for a flight… Then screw the fire right out of him afterward…. Sigh.. Decepticons….

Chewing on his lower lip component, Opie knew he’d screwed up. His repaired core programming was interfering with how his accepted interactions with fellow Unit members normally ran. This was going to cause even more problems in the future if he couldn’t learn to mesh the two somehow.

Assuming the timid clone was really bothered by Rumble’s standard behavior; Beachcomber surrounded him with his arms and pulled him tight to his hood. “Don’t worry ‘bout him, little clone. He’s just a youngster full of spitfire,” he coo’d as he rubbed the Prime clone’s back armor in a soothing manner.

Knowing that Beachcomber was reading his reactions in a different light, Opie didn’t say anything. Instead, he allowed himself to go limp against the big mech’s shoulder plate. Words would only make it more confusing right now, because quite frankly it didn’t bother him that Rumble had a hissy fit. He wasn’t afraid of the mech in the least anymore…

--------
A month since the ‘programming repair’ ……..

---------

Lost in his thoughts, Opie didn’t even notice the voices emanating from his med bay. So it was quite the surprise when he opened the door to his quiet sanctuary – only to be greeted by a room full.

“How’s my favorite medic?” Flame asked as he hopped off the exam table he’d been sitting on. With his customary swagger, he strolled over to the Prime clone and patted him on his back armor as if they had always been the best of buds.

Ok, when a Sunstreaker clone acted this way – he was definitely up to something… This certainty flitted through Opie’s processor, just as it would have Optimus’s. Opening his mouth, the clone was just about to voice those very suspicions – but Glock’s visage popped into his RAM and ordered him to bite his glossa. Slamming his lip components back together, Opie simply arched an optic ridge as he met the golden one’s optics. He’d found it better to be silent – than to be obvious.

“Great! You’re good then!” Wrapping an arm around the silent medic clone, Flame turned around and waved his arm in an exaggerated manner at the two humans still sitting side-by-side on the exam table. They both had expressions that were a mix of nervousness, excitement and embarrassment on their faces. “I’m tellin’ you – he’s the perfect clone for the job.”

Chewing on her lip, Torie glanced at the young man next to her – then back at Flame and Opie. “You sure ‘bout this? He can keep his trap shut?”

“Yeah, Opie’s the best at keeping his trap shut. Right buddy?” Flame squeezed Opie’s shoulders.

Ok, this group was most definitely up to something… Opie’s battle processor threatened to come online as he glanced from one-to-the-other. He even glanced around the bay, looking for a booby trap. True, Sunstreaker models weren’t as bad as their twins when it came to practical jokes – but they were still prone to them…

“Right buddy?” he squeezed him even harder, pressing him for an answer…

Geese, they were going to force him to talk! Thinking fast, Opie decided how his predictable response should be.. “Well, uh, that depends…” Meshing what he wanted to say – with how he should say it in order not to raise suspicion – he added “what do you guys, uh, want?”

The two humans exchanged a look. Then Torie met Opie’s optics again. “I want to surprise Storm – and Samie’s agreed to it.” She gave him a big smile, obviously assuming that he knew exactly what she was talking about.

“What kind of surprise?” Opie’s curiosity was overwhelming his concentration to keep his timid act going. Fortunately, the trio were too wrapped up in their own thoughts and plans to notice the change in him.

Hopping down, Torie bounded to him and wrapped her arms around him. “I wanna get pregnant! It’ll be perfect!”

The jaw hitting the ground was in no way an act for Opie… He stared down into her happy face – in total shock. Then a thought hit him – why in the hell did the two humans need HIM? One was a viable male – the other female. All they had to do was do it. “Well,uh…” the uh wasn’t an act either – he was just shocked “why do you need me?”

This got everyone rolling in laughter. Opie just stood there, knowing he must be the butt of whatever private joke – but not having a clue as to why. Finally, Samie sat back up and wiped the laughter-tears from his face with a swipe of one of his elegant clone-appendage hands. “Because I’m gay – you silly clone!” he snickered.

Oops, forgot about that fact of human sexuality. Opie was too used to clone sexuality – where everyone tended to be bisexual. His face plate heated up slightly as he realized his error. Then his optics opened wide as he realized why they’d sought a medic out. “You want me to inseminate you then?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Torie walked over to Samie and slapped one of his artificial legs in a friendly manner. “See, we’ve figured it out. I’m hitting the middle of my cycle…”

“And I’ll ‘collect’ the semen,” Flame finished for her – with a conniving wink at his human.

A typical Prime model would’ve seriously considered running out of the bay about that time. They were known for their sexual conservativeness… Fortunately, Opie’s past helped him in this situation. With a swallow, he realized he was stuck doing this – since the normal ‘Opie’ would never say no to this. “And you’re eighteen now?”

“Yeah.” A triumphant gleam filled Torie’s dark eyes.

Going to some of his cabinets, Opie began to collect the materials they would need. Since encouraging human reproduction was the most important thing to the Unit – even a battle medic like himself was thoroughly trained for this. “You three realize that the most effective method is to inseminate once a day for the entire mid-cycle week?”

“Guess we’ll make appointments for the next seven days then,” Flame giggled cheerfully, “You’re off shift every 1420?”

Great, now he was locked into their little plan. With a resigned sigh, Opie nodded his consent to save that time slot. Thank god he’d overheard Storm discussing his future aspirations for an enormous human family many times. He knew the warrior would indeed be more than thrilled with a pregnancy - Especially if Torie hadn’t actually slept with a human to accomplish it… It was indeed the best laid of plans.. Pulling out a small square packet, he tossed it to Samie. “It’s untreated so as to not lower the quality of the sample. Do you require lubricant?”

Catching the condom, Samie grinned. “Nope, just need my bo to bend over.”

Torie plopped herself down on one of the seats that lined the far wall. “Need me to do anything Opie?”

“Once we get the sample, you’ll need to uncover and lay on the table. It won’t take long.” Opie relaxed a bit now, since HE didn’t need to collect anything. Now prepared, he sat down next to the dark-skinned girl. “You’re sure about this decision?”

Torie nodded, her eyes gleaming as she watched Flame unrolling the condom over Samie’s hardening cock. Samie was now her best friend. And the best part was – he was as black as her and good looking. He was the perfect sperm donor for what she wanted in her children. Reaching over, her fingers curled around Opie’s. “He’s perfect, just perfect – don’cha think?”

“Guess so.” Opie was trying to keep his systems from reacting to the show in front of them at the moment…

On his knee plates in front of Samie, Flame gently sucked on each of his balls as he unrolled the condom down the length of that wonderful shaft…

….. As the show progressed, with Flame getting a little TOO into the entire semen collection process, Torie leaned over and whispered in one of Opie’s audios “Been a while for ya?”

This time he was unable to keep his professional façade going, with an embarrassed heating up of his facial surfaces, he nodded. All he could think of was how strongly his cable was threatening to activate as it pressed with great need against the confines of his protective armor. It wasn’t that he was into either Flame or Samie like that. But his deeply ingrained pleasure programs were being triggered.

With an understanding grin, Torie patted his thigh armor. “Guess we shoulda asked if ya were in the mood to do this for us. Hell, I get horny if I don’t get it every day.” She shot him a knowing wink. “So how long have ya gone?”

Searching his memory files, Opie’s optics opened a little wider as he realized that the last time he’d had any kind of action – was when Glock had downloaded all those programs. And that had been almost a month ago! He’d been so caught up in his own programming behavior dilemma – he hadn’t even thought about interfacing. “A month,” he admitted in a low whisper, though he could’ve yelled it and no one would’ve noticed it over Flame and Samie’s vocalizations.

“Wow, Really? With your reputation – ya could get laid by any of the single clones.” Torie wasn’t being facetious in the least - Her dark eyes shown with honest surprise.

“My reputation is that bad?” Opie cringed as he thought about it. After all, he had partied with some of the most notorious sluts in the Unit before he’d been internally repaired.

“Well… Not baaaaadddd,” Torie giggled, “in fact, they whisper about how good ya are in the sack.”

“Oh.” It still wasn’t the reputation he wanted by any means, but that was better than just being a slut. Well, he hoped it was.

“So why ain’t ya partying anymore?” Now Torie was really curious. She didn’t even notice her two friends moaning and humping anymore. Her entire attention turned to the quite young Prime clone. That’s when she noticed something different. He used to be so timid and insecure, like a child ready to jump at the sight of a mouse – but now there was a strange quite confidence radiating from the clone. Even as he seemed concerned about his reputation – he didn’t seem to take it as an insult. “What happened to ya Opie?”

He looked at her in surprise as she blurted out that last part. “Nothing. Nothing at all,” he lied.

Reaching up, she forced him to turn more fully towards her. Her eyes searched his, as if she could read his meta right through those blue orbs. “Ya’ve changed. Ya’ve really changed.” She seemed to think for a few moments, then a light bulb could almost be seen over her head as she thought she’d figured it out. “Ya’re in love – aren’t ya!” she accused.

Opie relaxed as the girl assumed his change in demeanor was the result of ‘love’. She hadn’t really figured out the truth – and he could go with the love thing. He WAS in love after all – the problem was the object of that love was fixated on a sparkling right now. “Yes, you’ve caught me,” he admitted. Why not admit it? He was enlisted wasn’t he. He had every right to chase Scream now. Maybe starting the rumor would actually help him?

“Ooooooooo whoooooo?” Torie squealed happily. She loved a good story.

“Can’t say, it’s a secret.”

“Awww, come on bro. I’m no snitch.”

Looking her up-and-down, Opie tried to decide if he could trust her. Well, he would have a bigger secret to hold over her head wouldn’t he? So shrugging, Opie let the cat out of the bag, “Scream.”

Her eyes got big, “Girly Scream?”

“Yes, that Scream.”

Falling back into her seat, Torie slouched in disbelief. “But he’s belongs to Charge. And Charge will so kick ya ass.”

“He doesn’t belong to anybody. He USED to love me back.” Why Opie was telling her all this – he didn’t quit know. But he needed to talk to someone other than Jag and Glock about this. He needed to!

“Used to? Whatcha mean used to?” Torie was now really interested. A love triangle that NO ONE had spotted. Wow, how cool was that?

“Listen Torie, I need some advice – from someone other than Jag and Glock. Do you promise not to tell anyone about this for a while?” Opie’s logic circuits had finally clicked on. Now he knew that it wasn’t the best of time to face Charge. But that would change.

The girl thought about it, “Yeah, guess if ya’re keeping this secret,” she nodded towards the engaged couple, “then I can keep ya’res too.” She giggled a bit. “So what kinda advice do ya need?”

“How do I get a fech who’s fixated on his sparkling – to notice me again?”

Torie’s eyes gleamed in mischief - and as Flame moaned – she and Opie discussed different ideas to get Scream back into him….

----
…… “Hold still,” Opie told her as he gently slid the tube inside her.

Holding Flame’s hand, the girl frowned “It feels fuckin’ weird.”

“It’s going to. I warned you about that.” He could tell the tube had made it past her cervix, now he pressed the syringe, inseminating her with the freshly collected semen.

“At least your husband won’t have a hissy this way,” Flame snickered. He glanced over at his own boyfriend, who was slouched in a seat, exhaustion written all over his handsome face. “And I didn’t have to share either,” he added with a smug grin.

“I’ll be faster next time. Condoms just suck,” Samie promised in a tired voice.

Pulling the tube carefully out of the girl, Opie pulled the paper sheet back over her. Not that any of the males in the room were the least bit interested… “Done. See you three tomorrow at 1420.”

-----

Jag felt a hand go around him from behind. Surprised, he jerked backwards, his battle processor clicking on. Strong arms wrapped around him, a hand muffling his cry. With a bang, he heard his office door being kicked shut.

“Ssssshhhhhh, you told me to come to you – instead of running around like a slut,” Opie whispered in his audio. He nibbled on the tactician’s thin neck armor, fantasizing that it was a certain Seeker held trapped in his arms. One thing Torie had told him to make sure of – was to NOT approach Scream if he was horny. So he was going to fix that little problem.

The Prowl clone shivered, his own pent-up needs rising to the surface at the tickle of those gentle lips. He’d never expected the timid clone to act this dominate. Never in a million years. And as he felt his own cuffs removed from his hip bracket – and used on his own wrist servos – he began to worry that Opie might’ve learned something from one of those dreaded twins. Intakes sputtered as he was forced to turn around. Strong hands lifting him up onto his wall mounted desk as Opie commanded his lips.

Heat rushed through Opie’s networks as Jag wrapped his legs around his hip armor. Grinding their pelvic plates together, he pushed the police clone’s door wings hard against the wall. “I…need…this…bad…” he gasped as he released those wonderful lips and nibbled on his hood. “So… bad..”

Biting down on Opie’s shoulder armor, Jag moaned as he was dry humped. Their interface networks both so close. Release so close… “You… actually… came.. to… me” he gasped in disbelief. True, he had told the youngster too. But that had been over a month ago! Opie had seemed to be avoiding him since then. Had seemed unusually quite and preoccupied…. He’d started to wonder if it would ever work out between them and Scream.

Grinding against his captive, Opie engaged him in a passionate kiss. His glossa searching for acceptance as it intertwined with Jag’s. After his long talk with Torie, he was now certain of his future course of action. He NEEDED Jag. He needed him in order to get close to Scream again. And Jag needed HIM. They would have to work together in order to obtain the goal they both desired. “I… I haven’t been with anyone since that week,” he admitted.

Jag searched his optics, saw the truth there. “You’ve been pining for him too,” he accused.

“You could say that.” Opie stroked the side of his helm with gentle digits. Jag was one of the most attractive of clone models. Strange that he’d never noticed that before. “But we understand each other…. Our needs… our desire…”

Wiggling his wrists, Jag nodded his agreement. “And this? Don’t tell me you’ve been learning new things from the twins.” He moaned as Opie chuckled and nipped at his neck again.

“Just Flame.” Opie slid his digits down Jag’s hood, trailing wonderful sensations through his nets. “I’ll make sure to talk with Jester tomorrow – if you like this,” he teased.

“God… don’t…” Jag arched against him. Small wirrs could be heard as he commanded his port panels to open. He didn’t know if Opie wanted to simply overload – or to actually join sparks. At this point, he was open to either. It had been much longer since he’d overloaded – than it had been for Opie. And this strange domination was really turning him on. A memory echo flitted through his RAM. Of a time on a long voyage alone…. Just Prowl and Prime… And a little too much energon between them… Then it was gone – replaced by the visage of a confident Prime clone kneeling between his spread legs.

As that knowledgeable glossa entered his forward port, Jag smashed his helm back against the exterior wall. He mewed as a digit slowly invaded his aft port. Stretching his long unused passage… Lubricant that wasn’t greedily lapped up dripped along the desk top until it finally fell freely to the floor. “Opie… you… know… I’m …. On … shift…”

“Steel’s covering for you,” Opie replied. He slowly forced another digit inside Jag’s tight aft port.

“Mmmmmm, finally taught you to…ahhhhhhhh…. Plan first…” Jag spread his legs even further, bucking against Opie’s gentle digit thrusts. The glossa flicked in and out of his forward port – driving him to glitches! “Slag… me…” he begged.

With a knowing grin, Opie stood up, his cable already activated, pressurized and ready. “If I take you now – promise never to leave me – to leave US,” he whispered. He teased the entrance to Jag’s greedy forward port with the tip of his thick shaft, as he resumed nibbling on Jag’s sensitive neck.

Trembling with want, Jag met his optics. His own blue orbs shimmering with unshed tears. “I can’t…. just as you can’t give a promise of fidelity…” A whimper filled with both sorrow and want fled his lips…

“I can… And I do…” Opie’s tone was sure, his optics steady. HE was different now. Unlike Scream – he had been repaired from within. And Prime clones weren’t natural players like Scream clones anyways. So Jag could count on him – to only share his cable willing with him and Scream from this day forth.

Opie’s tone and confidence amazed Jag. Slack mouthed – he stared at the youngster. Wondering if perhaps it was Charge and not Opie who was slagging him. “Opie?”

“I’m different now Jag. I’ve learned a lot this last month. I….” he stopped for a moment to take Jag’s lips again, his shaft sinking a little deeper into those tight depths, “I’m no longer just an addict. I’m addicted to you and Scream alone.”

“To us alone?” Jag’s intakes hitched a bit. He gasped for more oxygen to cool his overheating engine. Opie was so different.. So confident… He was the clone that Jag had one day hoped he could become..

“To you two alone. I give my word as a Prime.” He slid in deeper, enjoying the quivering tightness surrounding his cable. This was what he’d always wanted. A clone who’d like him – even love him one day. A clone he could count on to never hurt him. And now he was strong enough to give the vow of a Prime clone. He was strong enough to give Jag what he craved as well – a predictable mate. Something that Scream never would be.

“Who… are… you … Opie? Mmmmmm…” Jag thrashed a bit as he was filled. Locking his legs around the Prime clone’s hips, he forced him even deeper…

“I’m… what.. I … should’ve… been….. ohhhhhh Jaaaaagggg…” Opie thrust hard into the white and black clone, all thoughts of control gone as he followed his most basic of programs. For many minutes they moaned as one. Driving themselves together… Deeper… The need going much further than mere physical pleasure…

Stopping for a moment, Opie collapsed against Jag. His engines cycling too fast… Not enough cooling air flow going over his radiator… He gasped as he allowed his systems time to recover… Rivets of steam and condensation dripping from the seams of his chassis….. They kissed as they stayed locked together. No words necessary now. They were dedicated mates now. They would learn to love each other as deeply as they both loved Scream.

Pulling out, Opie arched a questioning optic ridge at Jag as he positioned the tip of his shaft at the entrance to his little used aft port. Once they’d joined sparks – there’d be no going back. They both knew that.

Were they ready?

Could they deny?

With a nod, Jag gave his consent. He knew Opie’s spark frequency was similar to Scream’s. Knew there was a good probability that the Prime clone was in fact another Eve spark. He screamed into Opie’s mouth as the clone slammed his lips down upon his – even as he thrust violently forward into his tightness…

With a blistering burst of raw energy their sparks merged into one. The strange eve spark was triggered, forcing the energy pool to swirl and rise around them. The energy wave flashed away from the source, traveling like a shock wave through the entire Unit and out into the gray wilds of the ruined world. Flickering about the wild clones who staggered aimlessly in the icy muck of nothingness……

With a crash, Opie slid from Jag’s limp form and hit the ground in shutdown….

-------

“Well, this explains it,” Daniel’s voice filled Jag’s audios. With a groan, the police clone finished his reboot sequence and struggled to sit upright. He was met with his worst nightmare as he activated his optics, and saw half the officers peering through his open office door at him. Face plate heating up in embarrassment, the stoic clone struggled to maintain some type of composure. “Hey Jester, mind getting these off of me?” he asked.

A big slag-eating grin on his face plate, the jokester stepped over the prone Optimus clone on the floor. “Never thought I’d hear YOU asking ME to get you out of your own handcuffs,” he snickered.

“Well, it was YOUR twin who taught him how to do this,” Jag snorted.

“So you expect us to believe that this was all Flame’s idea?” Charge’s voice was filled with disgust at the entire situation.

Meeting his optics, Jag was about to claim that very thing, but Opie beat him to the punch. The youngster rolled over, latching his codpiece in an offhanded manner. “Uh, yes sir. And it was a heck of an idea.” Though his words were somewhat in character – his expression wasn’t. He boldly met the commander’s optics without flinching.

Assuming that it was the overload afterglow that was making the youngster so uncharacteristically bold, Charge snorted in contempt. “I’ll inform him to educate you on the proper timing of interface activity then.” He glanced back up at his security chief. “You on the other hand – KNOW better.”

Before he could light into Jag about slagging in his office, the youngster climbed to his peds and actually slapped him on his shoulder armor as if they were old friends. “Awwww, leave him alone. It was, uh, all my idea.”

For the first time in his short existence, Charge’s jaw hung to the floor in total shock…..

-------

“That was great! Did you SEE the look on his face plate?!?” Jester bounced around the pair in excitement. Once again, he pounded on Opie’s back armor in approval.

Rolling his optics, Jag kept his mouth shut. The dratted twin had plagued them for the last two hours. He had enough to think about now that he was on Charge’s slag list. “Don’t you need to go somewhere – other than where ever we’re going?”

“Nope.” Jester’s grin got even bigger. He leaned over Opie’s shoulder. “So, any other cool bondage tricks you want to learn?”

With a sheepish grin, Opie nodded, “We’ll work together tomorrow. Teach me then – ok?” He actually liked the jokester, even though he did give everyone meta-aches.

“Ok – Dokay! See ya then bro!” the Sideswipe clone happily bounded away.

“I appreciate your effort to relieve us of his company,” Jag stated flatly. He was surprised as Opie boldly took his hand. “But your actions have put us in an unenviable position.”

“So what?” the youngster shrugged it off, totally unconcerned.

Grabbing his shoulder, the Prowl clone spun him around and glared into his optics. “Do you not get it? And what is going on with your personality circuits anyways?!? You are NOT the Opie I know!”

“I’m a healed Opie. That’s what is going on. And I’m tired of being worried about what everyone thinks about me. I’m tired of being afraid I’ll disappoint. So I just quit worrying anymore!”

“No one ‘just quits worrying’ – what happened to you?”

Opie grinned, his scar stretching comically with his lip components. “Like I said, I had an epiphany – and that’s that.”

With an exacerbated sigh, Jag wondered who would drive him to glitches more – Jester or this ‘new and improved Opie’?

“Hey guys,” Dante called. His thrusters barely touched the muddy ground as he trotted over. His optics shown with smugness, like he’d just gotten hold of a whole six pack of Dr. Peppers. “Heard about you lighting up the darkness. Interesting trick there.”

“Has no one heard about it?” Jag said in dismay.

Shrugging, Opie grinned at his friend. “Yeah, definitely got an Eve spark in here,” he joked as he pounded on his hood.

“You’re getting cocky,” the Starscream clone snickered.

“And you’re looking rather smug. What trouble have you been up to?” Opie shot back.

“Check THIS out.” With that little bit of warning, Dante fired one of his shoulder guns at a pile of slag sticking out of the muck. Instead of laser fire, a stream of liquid sprayed out, filling the air with noxious fumes. Coating the slag, it began an exothermic chain reaction, causing the metal to bubble and hiss as it seemed to melt away into nothingness.

Jag and Opie jumped back as one, both of them staring in horror at the bubbling mess. “What in the hell….” Opie stammered…

“A wonderful little mix of acids I cooked up with Alchemy.” A sick gleam filled Dante’s optics as he watched his test victim disappear into bubbling nothingness. “Gotta love a good acid.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re a tad off kilter for a Starscream clone?” Opie asked him.

Narrowing his optics, the Seeker snarled a bit. He didn’t like being reminded of that fact. “No more than you are as a Prime clone,” he snorted.

“Fair enough.” Stepping forward, Opie poked at the remains with a stick he’d just found. “Glock’s going to love your new toy.”

A smile broke out on Dante’s faceplate. “I know,” he purred. He glanced from the Prime clone to the Prowl clone. “So you two are now a pair?”

“You could say that. Tell Glock I’ll quit lusting after you now.” Opie gave Jag a big kiss. “Jag’s more than clone enough for me.”

Suspicion covered Dante’s façade. Opie was too cocky, too soon. “Remember what Glock warned you about,” he whispered.

“I’m young and in love. How else am I going to act?” Opie’s grin got even bigger.

“What you claim to love – and DO love – are two different clones. We all know that.” Dante’s optics became dark, his tone low.

Throughout this interchange, Jag was studying both of them with critical optics. “What’s been going on between you and your partners?” he demanded to know.

“Nothing,” was the joint reply.

Suspicion filled the Prowl clone’s processors; something was most definitely going on. The more they denied the surer of it he was. He was about to voice those very thoughts when…..

“They are coming,” Glock stated as he strode up to them. Scanning the darkness of the swirling fog in the night – one could almost swear that he could actually see the wild clones. “I feel them.” He turned and glared at Opie. “You’ve attracted them with the spark energy shock wave.”

“Are you sure?” Jag looked out into the blackness, scanning with every sensor he had. They were at the front of the parked Unit. The only clones alert – other than standard security rounds. The tactician didn’t want the Unit caught of guard, especially if it was he and Opie to blame for it.

“Dante’ your sensors are superior to ground clones – scan,” Glock ordered.

The red Seeker went silent as he concentrated on his long range scanners. The others also went silent, everyone using all of their sensors to their peek.

“What’s up?” TC’s voice interrupted the group’s concentration.

Opie and Glock turned to face the approaching trio of Seekers. The Prime clone’s optics widening along with a smile as he met Scream’s red orbs…. He couldn’t believe his luck! “Hi guys. Glock thinks there is a horde forming out there.” He wanted to run to Scream, pull the feminem Seeker into his arms and kiss him all over. But now wasn’t the time or the place.

TC and Scream frowned as they briefly met each other’s optics. Then their optics dimmed as they began long range scans. Since they were upgraded F-22 models, their sensors far surpassed anything Dante had.

“Hey guys don’t leave me out of the party!” Jag cringed as he heard Jester’s voice holler that. The jokester came trotting back up. His optics bright with curiosity at the gathered group.

On the other hand, Bond started trembling. His optics darting about fearfully – as if wild clones were right there! Curling himself around Jag, he clutched at the stoic clone’s door wings. “W- wild c- clones?”

“Get a grip Bond, you’re trained for this!” Glock barked and slapped the coward upside his helm.

Yelping, the purple Seeker hid behind Jag.

“Leave him alone Glock. It’s not his fault that he’s like this,” Jag snapped.

“Weakness such as his is not tolerable in front line troops,” Glock snorted.

“That’s exactly WHY he’s not front line. He’s part of medical transport – remember?” Opie reminded him. In fact, Bond had been their ‘ride’ on more than a handful of occasions.

“Glock’s right, there is a group forming,” TC announced as his optics brightened.

“25 north-northwest, 5 clicks,” Scream added. His digits clenched into tight fists as he thought about his helpless sparkling snuggled up against his wet nurse just a few trailers back. His maternal instincts screamed for him to eliminate any and all threats to them!

“Wait,” Opie set a hand on Scream’s and TC’s wrist servos before they both launched helm first into the unknown. Turning to Glock, he met his optics. “You’re positive they were attracted to the Eve spark wave?”

“Affirmative. When we were trapped in transport, we also reacted to one of your Unit’s eve pulses. And we were much further in distance than they are.” Glock’s optics scanned Opie’s face plate, trying to discern what the clone’s thoughts were. Opie had come much further in becoming a true Optimus clone than he’d expected. He was actually almost an equal now.

“So, not only are infected clones attracted – but so are uninfected and sparked?”

“Affirmative.”

“So, we don’t know if these are enemies – or potential allies?” Opie glanced around the group, his optics pleading for logic.

“We can’t risk it!” Scream snarled, his engines heating up, ready for launch.

“We can’t just destroy without making sure! How many innocent clones have we accidentally destroyed simply because they’d been caught up with infected brothers?” Standing his ground, Opie challenged Scream to disagree with such logic.

“What plan do you offer in order to keep the Unit safe – AND not destroy potential allies?” Jag queried. He was blown away by the change in Opie. The clone seemed more like calm Clipper – than timid Opie. This was more than a mere ‘epiphany’ for sure…

“Yeah – what?!?” Scream growled. Unconsciously, he moved a step away from Glock as the Megatron clone drew near. It wasn’t that he was afraid of Glock – but old habits die hard.

Grinding his dental plates together, Opie thought of a plan as fast as he could. Half of them were part of the front line medic squad weren’t they? The other half part of the front line recon troops. They could work together. They had all the talent and firepower necessary. “We go in together.” He nodded at the four Seekers, “Scream will carry Jag, TC carries Jester, Dante – Glock and Bond – me. You three teams stay aloft ready to cover us – and Bond and I will go down and offer medical assistance.”

“You’re glitched Opie – they’ll tear you two apart!” TC argued.

“Bond will keep a hand on me, and if they try – he’ll teleport us out of there. Then your teams will finish them off.” Opie was sure that it would work. If the clones were friendly, then the fact he was a medic – and an Optimus clone – would cause them to drop their weapons. If not – Bond could get them out of there safely.

“T- teleport?” Bond didn’t look very sure of the entire plan. It was hard enough for him to fly out and pick up casualties when others were fighting – now Opie wanted him to be the first one in!

“That’s ridiculous!” Scream growled.

“No, wait,” Glock pondered on the plan. If it worked, they would all be heralded as heroes. Opie would naturally rise in rank – and Dante and Glock would be sure to follow. The risk was worth the potential reward. “It is a valid plan, yes.”

“Yes, I agree with that,” Jag added.

“Well, you’re all glitching. And I’m gonna tell you so after we have to save your afts!” Scream shot back. Transforming, he waited for Jag to settle over his topline.

Settling themselves onto their respective Seeker rides – Opie almost yelled ‘roll out’. Glock beat him to the punch though. “Move out troops!” he yelled with a pump of his fist into the air. With a roar of muffled jet engines they did just that.

------

“Ar-are y-you sure bout this?” Bond stammered as he tried his best to hide behind the Prime clone. Gripping Opie’s waist, he fought the urge to go ahead and teleport as the dark shapes approached them.

“Don’t teleport until I say to,” Opie whispered back. Looking out into the blurry night fog, he held his arms out wide, showing that he was unarmed. “I’m a medic trained clone. I’m here to help you,” he yelled out.

Muffled voices could be heard all around them, but not deciphered. Slowly, one of the wild clones inched closer. He was limping rather badly, and when he finally got close enough for them to see him clearly, it was obvious why. One of the Hoist clone’s legs was badly mangled, and the rest of his armor showed major damage from past fights. “Y – you speak…” he said in a voice so hoarse that it was barely audible. Staggering forward with a hand outstretched, he fell to his knees in front of Opie - His hand squarely on the Prime clone’s hood, while he dropped his gun from his other hand. “You’re not one of THEM.”

Bond yelped in fear as other wrenches staggered out of the darkness. Opie having to keep him calm enough not to blink out of sight. To the untrained optic these wrecks would have appeared to be infected clones. Would have been destroyed without question… But to see them whimpering with relief and dropping their weapons in the presence of a strongly sparked Eve clone – Opie knew they either weren’t at late stages of infection or possibly weren’t infected at all yet. They were mere survivors. Survivors that were lost and purposeless – attacked again and again by late stage infected clones. The gamble he’d taken had worked….

-----

“Good work Opie,” Sharon said as she came into his bay. “We’ve added twenty clones out of the thirty.”

“So ten were infected?” he asked.

“Yes, but at stage one. They were quietly deactivated and we’ll use them to study different programs we’ve been wanted to try to evaluate for a cure. Most of the wrecks were sparked clones that had been wandering aimlessly since they had lost their human. They had no clue as to how to protect themselves or fix themselves properly.” Pausing, she noticed what was on Opie’s exam table – the disconnected chest unit with the pulsing spark that had been found with Dante so long ago. “Do you want one of the infected clones to transfer that spark to? We’ll study the result to see if it cures him.”

Opie stroked the pulsing spark under his hand. For some reason he’d kept it around. Even though they couldn’t repair or rebuild the clone. His memories were gone along with his processors – but he was still alive. Now they could give him some kind of second chance. “Dante said he had been a Wheeljack model. Do we have any of those?”

“No, but we have a Grapple.”

“Guess that’ll work. Thanks Sharon.”

The older woman came up to him and wrapped her arms around him. “No – thank YOU Opie. You’ve shown us another way to approach wild clones. You saved twenty lives today!” Kissing his cheek, she gave him a squeeze before releasing him. “I’ll get Scream to bring you the deactivated Grapple model,” she finished with a knowing wink.

Opie’s face plate heated up a bit, and he found himself speechless for a moment.

“Tsk, tsk young clone. I’ve been Scream’s mother for years now. Do you think I wouldn’t spot the interest?” she teased.

Chewing on his lower lip in embarrassment, he shook his head.

He felt gentle fingers under his chin, found himself forced to meet her eyes. “It was wise of you to go after Jag first Opie. Let him teach you to be even stronger before you approach Scream. Promise me that. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Yes ma-am,” he whispered. He watched the door long after she’d disappeared through it. His meta racing at the implications of her words. She supported him and Jag in their pursuit of Scream! She just wanted them to be patient. They could be patient… They could….

------

“You’re putting him back together,” Dante noted, his voice filled with a strange mixture of sadness and excitement as he looked at the remains of what had once been his first love interest.

“Yes, but without his original processors – he won’t have any memory files to pull from. He won’t remember you.” Carefully, Opie began to peel away the torn metal that had protected the spark and power chambers for so long.

“Might be better for him that way.” Dante still lingered, his optics dark in thought.

“What happened to him? Do you know?” Since he didn’t look up, he didn’t see the conflict flying across the Seeker’s face plate.

“He got into it with some of the infected clones. I – I tried to help – but I was too late,” Dante lied. Grinding his dental plates together he repressed his true feelings. His feelings of being betrayed by his first love interest… His feelings of being thrown away … Cast aside… When his interest was not returned… Rage… Hurt… Pain….

Looking up, Opie saw the emotions flying over his friend’s face plate. Thinking it was all due to his admitting of being ‘too late’ to help his friend – he pulled the Seeker close and hugged him. “It’s ok Dante, things happen. I’m sorry I can’t bring HIM back.”

Just then, the door opened and another red Seeker staggered in. Grunting under the weight of the deactivated Grapple clone, Scream pushed by the two and tossed the limp clone onto the other side of the exam table. “Construction clones are too damned heavy for their own good!” he muttered.

“Thanks Opie,” Dante said as he pulled away from his friend’s arms. “His name was Jamie.” With a final glance at the pulsing spark chamber, he fled the room in search of his new love. A clone who loved him back… A clone who’d never betray him like Jamie had!

This left Opie alone with his secret love interest. For a long moment, they both just stared at each other, not sure what to say.

“Well, uh, you were right – I was wrong – my bad,” Scream finally admitted. He held out a fist for Opie to bump. It had been so long since they’d been alone like this…. So long since he’d thought about anything but his sparkling… He’d promised this youngster the world once – and then ignored him for the last six months. How could he ever make that up?

“It’s nothing,” Opie replied, his own optics haunted as he bumped Scream’s fist. The awkwardness was palpable between them – just as palpable as that strange spark attraction. He didn’t know how to act… What to say…

Shuffling his thrusters in discomfort, Scream searched his meta for something to say. Someway to make things right between them again… “Uh, if you’re ever free at 1500 on Wednesday or Friday – you wanna join TC and me in a game of poker? The sparklings are asleep then.”

The Prime clone’s face plate brightened up. It was like a ray of yellow sunshine had finally made it into this bleak world. “That’d be great! But can I bring Jag along?” He couldn’t leave Jag out of it. Jag would be destroyed.

Frowning slightly, Scream’s lower lip trembled a bit. “It’s true then. You two are a pair,” he sniffed - The old hurt, the old want of the security that Jag had once given him – coming roaring back up to the surface…. Jag had Opie now… Opie had Jag now… Neither one of them needed him anymore. He had waited too long…

“Yes, but… Scream…” Opie hesitated, trying to find the right words. Trying to find a smooth and eloquent twist to it like Glock could’ve… But they never came.. Instead “we don’t have a closed relationship or anything you know.” It was to-the-point for sure, but a pathetic way to tell the Seeker that they both really wanted HIM.

It was Scream’s turn to brighten up a bit. He still had a chance with both of them. “Uh, ok, we’ll leave two seats open at the table then.”

“See you Wednesday.”

“See you then,” with that, Scream walked out of the bay.

With a cheerfulness he hadn’t felt in what seemed like eternity – Opie went about his work………

-----

Note: Ok, hands are KILLING me! Hope you enjoyed…. And hope I touched on all those other pairings you wanted to see what was going on with! Please review…..
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Age of the Machine (Market Comodity 3)