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. |
**Age of the Machine part 13**
**Written by StSE. Universes: BW, G1, TFA**
Note: Don’t kill me over this one guys. It’s quite possibly the freakiest chapter I’ve yet to write… LOL…
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Carefully screwing the clone’s armor back into place, Opie smiled as he stood up and was finally able to stretch out his back linkages. He was finally done! FINALLY! It had only taken him four hours to perform a job that would’ve taken any of the true medic-bots an hour at most. But he was positive he’d done it all right, and thoroughly pleased with himself that he’d done it 100% himself. Proof in the oil that a Prime clone could not only be a natural leader and fighter – but anything else if he put his meta to it!
“Well, all finished. You can reactivate now,” Opie announced to the still clone. He patted him a tad bit harder in order to make sure the guy had his audios on.
Stirring, the Grapple clone first wiggled his digits and peds as if he was making sure that he still had them. Slowly, his optics brightened to the brilliant blue so typical of Autobot clones. “I’m f-f-f-fixed n-n-n-now?” he stammered. Hearing himself stumble over his own words, his optic ridges furrowed. “N-n-n-no f-f-f-f-fix st-st-st-still b-b-b-broke!” Tears rolled down his cheeks and he slammed his helm back down against the exam table several times in frustration.
“Whoa there, calm down.” Surprised and concerned, Opie sat down next to his patient and held him down before he could react more violently.
“Sh-sh-she p-p-p-promised t-t-t-to f-f-f-fix m-m-me! G-g-give m-m-me s-s-s-spark!” the clone rolled his helm from side-to-side, his entire chassis trembling. All he wanted was to be fixed. To be like he used to be! He’d shut himself down for that woman when she’d promised to fix him. Shut himself down and let these strangers do whatever they wanted to with him. He’d trusted them! And he wasn’t fixed!
“Shhhhhhhh, you’ve got a spark now. It’s just going to take time for your processor to unwind the virus from all your programs.” Opie rubbed the frantic clone with comforting hands as he spoke, hoping that his model’s reputation for honesty would win his trust. He sure hoped he was telling the guy the truth. It was the truth as far as he knew.
The clone blinked his optics free from the blur that tears caused and looked up at the clone who was holding him down. A flash of surprise floated across his face plate when he realized it was an Optimus model. A quick glance around the room told him that there were no others around. Why was an obvious leader clone wasting his time with an infected wreck like him? Then again, if a Prime clone was telling him this – it had to be true. He…. He had a spark?!? “S-s-s-spark?!?” he squealed in glee.
Allowing him to sit up, Opie put an arm around him. “Yes, just like me. You have a spark now.”
That’s when the clone finally noticed the strange pounding sensation around his central power core. His face plate lit up like a child at their birthday party, and he wrapped his arms around the leader clone. “Th-th-th-thankyou!” he whispered as he buried his face plate into the Prime clone’s hood. He felt safe now. Felt hope now…. Humans wouldn’t be afraid of him now that he had a spark – right? At least these clones’ humans didn’t seem to be.
A strange thought hit the infected clone then – just HOW had they given him a spark? Pulling back from the comfort of the strong clone’s arms, his optics searched the strangely bared face plate of the Prime clone. “H-h-how d-d-did I g-g-get s-s-s-sparked?” The engineer inside him just HAD to know.
Sadness flickered over Opie’s face plate for a moment. “A sparked clone was attacked a long time ago. Only his power core and spark survived. So, when we found you – we put him in you,” he explained in a low voice.
The newly sparked clone seemed to mull over the information for a while, his dental plates grinding together as he processed it. So one clone dies – so another might be cured. It was a truly sad thought. Who was this spark now pulsing inside him? What had he been? What human had loved him? So many questions to ask – and with his damned glitch there was no way he could voice all of them right now. “H-h-h-his d-d-d-design-n-nation?”
“Jamie. He was a Wheeljack model.” Opie hoped that the Grapple clone didn’t ask much more, he didn’t know much more than that.
“J-j-j-jamie. I-i-I’m J-j-jamie th-th-then.” His stammered words were filled with certainty, he had a true designation for the first time. No longer was he just a number that tolled with other numbers. Being a factory worker bot had not been kind to the socially driven clone. He had been nothing but a faceless number to his human masters. A faceless number given no second thought, no kind words… He hadn’t been abused or anything. But he hadn’t been given the one thing Autobot clones craved – love…
“You didn’t already have a designation then?” Opie’s optic ridges drew together in concern.
Jamie shook his head violently, “F-f-f-factory b-b-bot.”
“You poor thing. No wonder you were never sparked.” Opie stroked his back armor, his optics full of empathy. “You’ve never had a human.”
Tears welled up in the Grapple clone’s optics again as he nodded sadly in agreement.
“Well, we don’t have many humans – and the mature ones are all pretty much taken. But if you wait a few years – the children will be old enough. You can be friends with them now.” Opie leaned over and whispered in his audio “With your alt mode – you’d make a fun swing for them to play on!”
Jamie sniffed back his tears and wiped his face plate off. He now had a spark that would cure him – and there were humans that would socialize with him instead of just coldly ordering him around. He could wait a couple of years for a human to adopt him – as long as the children would let him play with them. All he’d ever wanted – was to be wanted by humans.
A knock at the door interrupted them. Without waiting for a response, the clone outside poked his helm in. “Hey bro, how’s the newbie doing?” the Sideswipe clone asked.
Waving his friend in, Opie smiled at Jamie before answering. “Jamie’s still got a glitch in the vocals, but he’s ok.”
“Name’s Jamie huh?” the red clone extended his hand in welcome. “I’m Jester.”
“But you can call him ‘trouble number one’ if you want,” Opie teased.
Jamie cautiously shook Jester’s hand. Timidly, he smiled as both of the Unit clones began to laugh and tease each other. Apparently this was a very close-knit and happy group he’d been found by. Shortly, he was told to get up and follow Jester so that the Unit’s programmers could give him a checkup.
“Hey Jester?” Opie called as they walked through the door into the hall.
Stopping, the Sideswipe clone turned and smiled at the field medic. “Yeah?”
“After TC’s done with him, why don’t you let him help you figure out how to fix that last magic prop you tried? After all, he IS an engineer bot – and he wants to make friends with the children.”
Jester turned and looked Jamie up and down with a critical optic. Opie was right about him needed to fix that prop. And none of the medics wanted anything to do with his magic tricks. “You a good engineer?” he asked.
Nodding his head like a weird bobble-head clone, Jamie smiled as big as he could. He wanted to fit into this Unit somehow. Wanted to make friends with everyone! And the Prime clone had just dumped the perfect job for him right onto his cab. He didn’t even care what this ‘prop’ was – he was sure he could design a better one that worked!
A big slag-eating grin spread over Jester’s handsome face plate. With his very own engineer to custom design his magic props – he’d have the best magic show in the whole wide world. Or what was left of it….. “Tell Jag to assign him to ME then! He’s MINE!” Grabbing the engineer’s arm, he bounded happily down the hall – dragging him along.
Putting his tools away with a smile, Opie hummed a happy tune to himself. He’d given a clone and a spark second chances – AND – had basically assigned him his first mentor. Life was good…… Life was so goooooooood…..
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Sliding the privacy panel back in place, Opie sighed as he stretched out in Jag’s large bunk. Now that they were a ‘pair’ – he’d not even bothered to make sure that it was ok with the officer for him to ‘move in’. In his opinion, it was a moot point. They had agreed to be a pair – so he moved in. That was that. He was positive that Jag would be happy to find him here when he finished his shift. Jag would be even happier once Opie told him the good news about their new ‘poker nights’!
Looking around, the enlisted clone’s optics took it all in. There was a small flat screen TV screwed securely to the outside wall, and a stack of DVDs stored in a bin next to it. Next to that was a neat row of text books that had been scavenged from the last university they’d trudged through. Of course, they were all business management, accounting, and military tactics books – arranged in perfect alphabetical order. Scooting himself over, he opened the bin. Predictably, they were also arranged in a specific order. “Like Prowl would ever allow them to have built a model of him that WASN’T a neat freak,” he snickered to himself.
For a moment he considered pulling a Jester and rearranging all of Jag’s things into a less predictable order. That thought left his meta as he then considered the Prowl clone’s potential reactions to a practical joke like that. Visions of being stuck in the ‘time out’ room that Jester was a rather frequent visitor to filled his meta. Nope, not even Opie relished the thought of being stuck in a confined space with a Sideswipe clone. Friends or not!
Well, he was fragged anyways. He’d have to think of some ways to lighten up Jag later. With happy sighs and grunts, he slipped under the blanket and laid his helm down on Jag’s pillow. Being in an officer’s bunk was so much nicer than the enlisted bunks! With one final glance around at all the things he would now share with the workaholic officer – Opie let himself drift into defragmentation…..
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“Let your meta, grrrrrrrrrr, fall into itself,” Dinobot ordered in a far away voice.
Setting his hands firmly on the top of the sword he’d been loaned, Opie copied his warrior-mentor’s lead. Kneeling, he bowed his head and shut off his optics. Concentrating on the pulse of his own spark as Dinobot had trained him to do many lessons before, Opie ‘fell into himself’. Just as his partner, Glock, and Inferno were doing on either side of him….
Time had no meaning as Opie’s meta floated. He felt himself expand and then retract within again, only to expand again. Yet this strange concentration seemed to level his spark pulse, seemed to strengthen it. And that’s what it was all about – to become strong and sure like Dinobot.
…. “True leaders must learn to, grrrrrrrr, serve those beneath them,” Dinobot panted.
Opie’s optics flew wider as the organomech’s digits pressed inside his forward port. His meta clicked back into reality as he felt another set of digits sliding into his aft port. Hands caressed his hood from behind… Shivers raced through him as hot breath danced along his sensitive neck plating.
“Yes my fellow soldier! To lead the hive – you must work your way up the ranks!” Inferno’s strong chassis pressed against his side. With great need showing in his optics, the predacon took his lips in a kiss boarding on violence.
“Grrrrrr, he can take more. Give him more,” the silver warrior demanded as he met Glock’s optics.
With a sly smile, the Megatron clone commenced to slide another digit in with the two he already had within his partner. “Partners help partners grow stronger through desire, yeeeeesss,” he purred.
Lubricant began to drip from Opie’s ports, wetting the floor of the gently swaying trailer. No thoughts of stopping this crossed his meta. He was simply one with the flow of time around him. No control, no thoughts…. Simply a being of pleasure… Reality swirled slightly around him then – as if he had blacked out from over-energization for a brief moment.
He came fully back into reality as his ports were painfully stretched. Moaning, he found his mouth full of a thick spike. The slightly metallic – slightly salty taste of Inferno’s half-organic spike caused his engine to rev in desire. Wrapping his arms around the Ant’s smooth armored thighs, he eagerly sucked his length. His glossa working eagerly along the ridges of his length…
“Mmmmmmmm, grrrrrrrrrrrrr,” Dinobot bucked his hips as he guided the clone to sit down upon him. Wet, warm tightness surrounded his spike – and for the first time in many lunar cycles he didn’t have to wrap it in one of those blasted condoms! There were times when being an organomech with a human mate was not what it was cracked up to be. “He can take, grrrrrrrr, more you fool!”
Nodding, Glock slowly pushed his pelvis forward. He straddled the silver organomech’s thighs as he penetrated his partner’s aft port while Dinobot used his forward port. Adding more pressure to his cable, he swelled it even as he sheathed it deep in Opie. For a moment he felt Opie tighten his linkages, squeezing him hard as he resisted the stretch of his port. “Yeeeeeeesssss, Opie. Feel the power between us. We are warriors… We are one!”
Reality seemed to shift over Opie at that moment, his optics went dark even as he swallowed the hot load that Inferno fired deep down his throat. He felt hot liquid fill his forward port……. Stinging him with its pressure……….
…….. Pain… That’s all he felt from his ports… With a gasp, Opie’s blue optics flicked open. He found himself lying flat on his back armor. A large mech hand holding him down….
“Take it! You pathetically weak excuse for a Prime clone!” the Seeker shrieked as he stabbed his two digits back into the squirming clone’s ports.
“S-Starscream?” Opie whimpered in disbelief as he was impaled on those large digits again.
“Who did you think it was – Thundercracker?” Starscream snorted in contempt as he pulled his digits out only to slam them in again. His evil sneer widening with each helpless gasp of pain he got from his hapless victim… He pressed down harder with his one hand, forcing the clone to take his digits. Ports spasmed tightly around his large digits…. Ports that weren’t designed to take them – much less his spike… But they would take both.. He watched the pain flying over the small replica of Optimus.. Pain that he wished the real mech was feeling!
“Ngggggt! Stop… Please….” His voice was becoming hoarse now. His entire interface networks felt like they were on fire. Clones weren’t designed to handle interface with the larger mechs such as Starscream! He’d be ripped to pieces!
Smacking the small clone ruthlessly, Starscream knocked the wind out of him. Leaving his digits within the now-still clone, he used his now-free other hand to unlatch his codpiece.
Gasping to regain his oxygen levels, the Prime clone’s optics widened in horror as the great phalanx of the large mech swelled to readiness. “Please… Starscream… I’m not… designed….”
“I don’t care what you’re designed for! You’re mine – you pathetic clone!” Lifting the trembling clone up, the Seeker laid him down on his back armor and held him down.
“Please…. Please….” Opie thought of another tactic. “I …. I love you…”
The Seeker paused for a moment, his optics flashing angrily. Then he hit the prone clone, “Your lies don’t work with me Prime clone! You will die for your blasphemy!”
The tip of Starscream’s spike was now at his forward port entrance. Opie was desperate now. He’d been torn apart from the inside if the Seeker continued! “I love your clone Starscream. The one that Sharon Trakersly owns. The one named Scream! I love YOU!”
Starscream stopped his invasion of the replica of Optimus. The fire lessened in his optics as he glared into Opie’s. “The wild-sparked clone?” he asked in a low voice.
“We are spark mates. I – I love him for the fech he is. I love YOU!” Opie’s spark pulsed wildly as he shouted out his love.
The fire seemed to leave Starscream. His optics truly softened. “You… You know?” His wings began to quiver, his voice becoming almost a plea.
“Y- yes. All the clones know. We love our fech’s for what they are. We love YOU!” Opie tried to wiggle free, but he was still pinned under the full-sized mech. His port was still stretched overly-wide by the tip of that massive phallus.
Suddenly, Starscream seemed to shrink in size. He shrunk until he was just twice the height of the clone pinned beneath him. “You all love me?” he asked, his lower lip quivering just slightly.
“Yes,” Opie relaxed as the spike shrank proportionately to the mech. He wouldn’t be offlined by this coupling now. It would still hurt – but he’d survive. That’s all Opie cared about right now – surviving…
“Then you won’t mind this,” Starscream suddenly sneered as he slammed his hips forward, slicing into the warm depths of the Prime clone. As Opie gasped, the Seeker rammed him mercilessly, his optics only seeing the image of his once-beloved writhing beneath him. His once-beloved screaming out his love for him! “Tell me hggggggg, mmmmmmm, that you love me!”
His digits curled into tight fists, Opie willed himself to take it. Willed himself not to scream under the ruthless assault that his port was taking. “I.. LOVE YOU! Ahhhhhhh… Love you!” At least the Seeker had shrunk himself down to where they were somewhat compatible…. At least Starscream had considered his love that much….. His port began to loosen up. Began to accept the mech’s spike… Beginning to relax, Opie rocked his hips into each thrust now. Taking the spike deeper… harder…
“Take it Autobot!” Starscream snarled as he released his pent-up pressure deep inside the gasping clone. Warmth surrounded his spike as he filled him. Filled him so full that it dripped to the ground beneath them… Forcefully, he commanded Opie’s lips, pressing him down hard into the ground.
Tasting his own fluids from his now bruised lips, Opie didn’t fight the mech’s glossa. Instead, he welcomed it. Danced with it with his own glossa. Wrapping his legs around Starscream’s hips, he pressed tightly against him. Encouraging the mech to use him some more…. To fill him yet further…
Feeling the clone wrap himself around his air frame, Starscream slid his digits from his pinned arms – freeing the Prime clone beneath him. His spark pulsed wildly as his captive didn’t attempt escape. Instead, the clone’s hands began to dance along his air frame, eliciting shivers of desire from their soft caress. His emotions going from a need for domination – to a need for another overload and release – Starscream’s half-limp spike filled again with pressure, pressing once again against the warm tightness of the now-willing clone’s port. “You… want.. me… Say it!” he growled as he released those bruised lips.
Looking deep into the Seeker’s optics – Opie saw his true need. “Let me prove it,” he whispered.
Getting up, the red mech watched his small prize with suspicious optics. He still expected the clone to flee. Just as Prime had fled so long ago! Yet, to his surprise, the clone merely turned and bent over a large boulder, exposing his aft port to him. Taking the opportunity for what it was worth, Starscream moved to kneel behind the clone half his size. His digits sank within the offered port, his optics widening slightly as he felt the wet readiness waiting for him.
“Scccccrrrrrrreeeeeaaaaaammmmmm, mmmmmmmmm,” Opie moaned as the mech’s exploring digits were replaced by the press of his large spike. Arching his rump up, he scratched his digits against the rock’s surface as his internal port sensors reacted to the invasion of his aft port.
Grabbing the clone’s shoulder plates, Starscream held him still as he slowly filled him. His moans of submission filled him with a strange emotion. Like the empty ache that had been such a part of him for millennia – was somehow less painful now. The sound of Optimus’s voice crying out his name in pleasure… In pleasure over being used by another mech… He trembled as he finally pressed fully inside the clone, his wings drooping slightly. “Why couldn’t he….” he whispered with a sob. A tear slowly fell down his cheek. A tear for all the pain he’d lived with for so long.
“We love you Scream, mmmmmm,” Opie rocked a bit, squeezing against the spike with his port linkages. He wanted to give his love’s mech this. WANTED Starscream to understand how it felt to be truly wanted – truly accepted.
Sniffing back his tears, Starscream tightened his grip and began to slowly move his hips back-and-forth. His shaft gliding in-and-out of the eager clone with a gentleness that the Seeker hadn’t used since before the war…. A gentleness that the Seeker had only known with one mech – Optimus…. His spark pulsed with a strange need now. A strange need to give this tiny version of his former love what he’d longed to give for so many eons – pleasure.
Mewing and gasping, Opie felt his engines beginning to overheat in reaction to the intensity of sensory data flying through his aft port networks. Biting at his own arm, he moaned as gentle digits caressed his back armor, sliding down to cup his aft armor. The slow steady glide of the large phalanx now fully accepted by his port… Shivering and patting, the clone relaxed as his overload engulfed him…
“For your love – I let you continue functioning…” the Seeker growled softly as he pulled out of the still clone.. Looking down at the image of his former love – he kissed his back armor one last time. “We were one once…” he whispered with a single tear streaming down his cheek. Then he was gone……
………. Opie reactivated to the sensation of large mech arms surrounding him, hugging him tightly to a smooth windshield. Activating his optics, he found himself staring up into his own image. “Optimus?” he whispered in awe. That’s what clones felt when they first met their mech. And since he was trapped on the wreck that was planet Earth – Opie had lost all hope that he’d ever meet his mech. Yet somehow – here he was!
Stroking the small clone cradled in his arms, the mighty Autobot leader looked down at his bare face plate with a strangely sad and forlorn expression. “Yes, it is I Optimus Prime.” His voice was deep – seeming to resonate through both space and time.
Smiling in absolute bliss, the clone snuggled tightly against the smooth windshield. They were saved! If Optimus was here – then the Autobots had come back for them! “We prayed you would come! The humans’ God heard us!”
At those words, the mech’s optics filled with tears. His engine seemed to seize up – as if he was stifling a cry of pain. Falling back heavily, his tail pipes crunched soundly against the very boulder upon which Starscream had taken his little clone. “No….” he gasped, averting his optics from those brilliant twins.
Sitting up in the mech’s lap, Opie gave him a worried look. That’s when he noticed the lack of color in Prime’s armor. “What… What happened? Why are you here? Where’s your color?” he pleaded. He ran his digits on the gray-shaded armor – worry filling his optics.
With a heavy sigh, Optimus bowed his helm. “I am – no more,” he whispered.
“You – you’re dead?!? But… But…” Opie pressed himself tightly to the strong mech he’d so idolized – that everyone on Earth had idolized.. Optimus couldn’t be dead. He was HERE!
Nodding sadly, the big mech stroked his clone’s armor soothingly. “The Decepticons surprised us on Earth II. Many of us lost our lives today.”
Opie’s engine hitched for a second, a strangled cry of disbelief came from his lips. Then a look of defiance filled his optics, and he banged his fist as hard as he could against the mech’s armor. “YOU’RE NOT DEAD – YOU’RE HERE!” he challenged. Prime couldn’t be dead…. Couldn’t be!
“Yes, I am here,” Prime agreed. His optics no longer the brilliant blue they once had been – now they were the deep blue-black of space. Their depths never-ending…
“Then you’re NOT dead!” Opie said with conviction.
“Young clone you have so much to live – so much to learn. We aren’t in reality – we are in the spark realm.”
“Spark realm? There’s no such thing!” the little one harrumphed.
Gently stroking the small clone’s helm, Optimus looked deep into his bright optics. “You would know it as the humans know it. They call it – dreams.”
Grinding his dental plates together, Opie tried to process it all. He understood the human concept of ‘dreams’ – but clones hadn’t been told that THEY dreamed too. They were told they simply had memory echoes just like the mechs. “We dream?” he asked in a meek voice.
“Apparently that is correct.”
“And you’re in my dream?”
“Affirmative.”
“But how? I mean if you’re dead and all.”
Lifting his other hand, the big mech rubbed his face mask as he pondered that very question. He was not a figment of the clone’s imagination – of that he was sure. He’d been pulled here. Been forced to sit silently and watch the clone in his dream. There was a reason for this. “Perhaps the matrix demanded that I come before it allows me inside.”
“Oh,” Opie furrowed his optic ridges together in thought. Now that he knew he was in a dream, all the weirdness and freaky interface scenarios he’d just experienced kind’ve made sense. Well, he guessed so anyways. But why would the matrix force the great Autobot into an insignificant clone’s dream? “Why would it do that?”
“To make me face the truth.” Optimus looked out across the expanse of barren land that made up this part of the clone’s dream. Guilt rode heavily on his shoulder plates. Guilt made only that much more defined after having been witness to Starscream’s reaction to his clone’s admitted love.
“What truth?” Opie sensed the guilt spreading through his mech. He pressed against him in concern. There was no reason for the leader to feel this way. He was a hero!
Touching his digit to the scar on his clone’s bare face, Prime blinked backed his remorseful tears. “Did a Megatron clone give you this?”
“Yeah, a sicko named Tron.” Opie shrugged it off, “We’ll catch him one day. Make him pay for what he did to Scream too!”
“The hate continues past us then. It is all my fault.” With a heavy sigh, Optimus’s chassis shook in a silent sob. He’d hoped that his death might finally end it. But he saw that it never would. Regret for an action a millennia ago – filled him with a painful ache.
“What’s your fault? Tron’s just glitched – bad owner and all.”
“No, it started a millennia before that. It started with me.” Reaching up, Prime unlatched his face mask and set it down next to him. He was preparing to bare it all to his clone. He needed to bear it all to his clone. They shared so many memories of his. They already knew the tale – they merely needed time and they’d piece it all together. He was sure of that now that he’d heard the interchange between this clone and Starscream.
“You mean – you and Starscream.” Opie met Optimus’s darkened orbs then. He knew exactly what the mech was referring to now. “But what does a failed relationship have to do with anything? Humans divorce and remarry all the time. It’s no big deal.”
“Mechs aren’t humans.” The tone of his response spoke volumes. There was far more to the story than Opie understood. Obviously this was what the matrix demanded of him – to admit to his part in the start and continuation of the war.
“And?” Opie gave him an expectant look.
“When we shared sparks for the first time – we are forever linked.” Optimus turned his optics away from the clone, he seemed to look out into the very dusts of time long past. “Before I was Prime, I was a youngster named Orion Pax. I fell in love with a femme. She was exciting. She was incredible.” He pictured the young Starscream. The curves the Seeker had boasted back then. “She could carry me on her topline into the very stars. I loved her. Gave her my spark.”
“Then you found out,” Opie whispered.
Prime’s optics hardened for a moment. “Yes, then I found out in a most inconvenient of ways.” He swallowed, willing himself to finally voice the tale…
He didn’t have to. The clone did it for him. “You both got over-energized and when you came to – he was drilling you like a mech.”
“You – you know,” Optimus tried to hide his embarrassment. If they’d known that their clones would get so many of their deepest personal secrets in these memory echoes – they’d have never built them. But what was done – was done.
“When I was first taken by a Starscream clone – I relived the echo,” Opie explained. “I felt – you felt violated, desecrated…”
“Used like a filthy whore-bot picked up on a street corner,” Prime finished for him. “I beat him up then. Beat him up while telling him he was worthless, useless, nothing but a piece of scrap. Then I left him there. His sobs of despair still echo in my meta all these eons later.”
Patting the large mech’s hand, Opie tried to comfort him. “You were young. And he was wrong in not informing you that he was a fech before you gave him your spark.”
“I know that now. I saw in his optics that old pain as he took you. But I was wrong in throwing him away like a piece of trash. His life was nothing but pain since that day. A pain that underlies the very war.”
“What do you mean? He went to Megatron – and you to Elita One. You both moved on.”
Optimus shook slightly in a silent sob. “No – we pretended to move on. Megatron knew what was in Starscream’s spark. He knew that he’d never truly own the Seeker as I had. Because of his jealousy and rage – he abused Starscream. Beat him down. Tortured him.” The big mech sighed in total shame. “I knew what was going on. I could’ve stopped it by forgiving Starscream for something he couldn’t change. But I couldn’t. Instead, I lived a lie all these eons. Tried to ignore that Megatron’s hatred of Autobots was in fact jealous hatred for me… He hurt, killed and maimed my fellow Autobots – just to spite me.”
“You can’t take the blame for it all. You couldn’t have foreseen what would happen.”
“I AM the one to blame. Now I see that it continues even in our clones. The hatred is so deeply ingrained in us – that we pass it to you. I’m so sorry.”
Opie HAD to do something. He couldn’t stand for his mech’s spark to go off into eternity with this great guilt. Concentrating hard, he forced his dream reality to change. It shifted, and now they looked down upon the small band of survivors. The Unit he called family.
Down they went, the trailers becoming see-through so that they could see the happenings within.
Going to his own bunk, the Prime clone saw himself curled up in defrag. The privacy panel was slid to the side, Jag standing there conversing quietly with Glock and Dante. Glancing next to him, Opie noticed that Optimus had shrunk down to clone size. Wrapping his arm around his mech spark – the young clone forced him to watch as they viewed the scene – unseen and unheard by the Unit….
….. “He’s real deep in defrag,” Glock said. He reached in and touched Opie’s thigh armor, his digits trailing down his partner’s leg unit.
“I can rouse him. A little sting won’t hurt him at all,” Dante smirked devilishly.
“No, the news can wait. He has worked himself to the ground as of late.” Glock set his hand on Dante’s raised cannon, gently forcing him to lower it.
“But I want to tell him!” the Starscream clone tried to push his way past the Megatron clone. His optics gleamed in excitement over the news he so wanted to tell Opie.
Jag glanced from clone-to-clone, his optic ridges furrowed in thought. He understood their excitement over making rank – but he hadn’t realized just how tightly knit they were to Opie. “I tell you two what..”
“Yes Jag?” Glock turned his calculating optics onto the stalwart tactician.
Crawling into the bunk, Jag grabbed Opie’s limp chassis and pulled him to the center of the bunk. “You two can watch movies with me until Opie reactivates – then you can both tell him.”
Dante squealed excitedly and dove helm-first into the bunk. Retracting his wings, he settled himself between Opie and the exterior wall where the flat screen was bolted to.
“A very acceptable solution. Kudos my friend!” Glock purred. Climbing into the bunk, he slid between Opie and Dante. Propping himself up on the pillows, he arranged the Seeker to lay on top of him, all the while curling a hand under his partner and arranging him so that his helm rested peacefully on his shoulder mount.
With a sigh of resignation, Jag climbed in and closed the privacy panel. The press of chassis were tight, and he found himself touching Dante’s wing as he threw his arm over his new Prime clone mate.
Dante turned his head and gave the clone a smirk. “Do that again, and you’ll have to join the celebratory action when Opie wakes up.”
The Prowl clone’s face plate heated up in embarrassment over the sexual innuendo. “Uh, sorry about that.”
…… Opie squeezed Prime’s hand.
“He’s so much like Prowl. It’s amazing,” the Autobot spark whispered.
“But see Optimus? Me, Glock, Dante and Scream can live peacefully together. There’s no hate between us at all. There’s no curse on us clones because of what happened between you and Starscream.”
Reaching through the transparent privacy panel, Optimus couldn’t help but to run his invisible digits along the strong jaw line of the Megatron clone. “He is what Megatron could’ve been – had jealousy not twisted him.”
“And Dante and Scream are what Starscream could’ve been. Dante’s the mech side – strong, sure of himself, possessive of his boyfriend; Scream’s the femme side – emotionally needy, looking for acceptance, caring for the young,” Opie added.
Slowly pulling his invisible touch from the Megatron clone, Optimus shivered a bit as he touched one of Dante’s retracted wings. “Even though I could never touch him once I knew he was a fech – I still thought of him as beauty incarnate.”
“Starscream is beautiful – his clones are perfection. They aren’t confused like him. They are at peace with themselves.” Opie moved behind the clone-sized mech. Wrapping his arms around him, he set his chin on his shoulder. For a long while, they just watched the three awake clones as they watched one of Jag’s DVDs – joking and teasing each other as they waited for Opie to wake up.
“Come Prime, let me show you something else,” Opie whispered. In the blink of an optic, the dream swirled. They were now in Beachcomber’s trailer. The ghostly sparks unseen and unnoticed by the occupants.
“Awww Beachcomber, my favorite peace lover,” Optimus mumbled under his breath. He watched as the geologist engaged the young Decepticon in another passionate kiss. Rumble moaned as Clipper took him from behind, filling his aft port just as Rumble thrust forward to fill Beachcomber’s ready port. “I’d never thought I’d see Rumble take an Autobot mate.”
“Beachy says he was young. Said he was just misunderstood – that’s all,” Opie explained.
“Yes, the Decepticon twins were some of the youngest. It would take some mech as laid back as Beachcomber to break through to one. The war makes the younglings hard.” Prime leaned back into his clone’s arms, his hands locking around Opie’s. These clones were beyond young themselves – yet they seemed so much older and wiser than many of the mechs they were created from.
“Yeah, Rumble doesn’t really want to go back. He talks big and all – but he likes it here. He’s respected, he’s been forgiven for his actions as a Decepticon…”
“He’s loved.” Optimus turned around and met the scarred clone’s optics. “That’s all we all really want isn’t it? I see that now. Love and forgiveness can conquer all.”
A ray of light fell over them then, like a door opening from another dimension. The pair of look-a-likes stared at in awe.
“I guess the matrix has opened for you now,” Opie said, a tear streaming down his cheek.
“Affirmative,” Optimus also felt a strange sadness at parting from his new brother. Blinking in disbelief, he realized that that was exactly how he felt about his young clone. They weren’t mech and clone – they were brothers now. “Opie?”
“Yeah?”
Running his digit along his brother’s scar, Optimus’s darkened orbs searched his face plate. “Just like Dante, Scream and Glock are the best of what their mechs might’ve one day become – you will be the best of me as well.”
“But….” Opie was silenced by a digit across his lips.
“No, listen to me. You are so young – but so wise already. You saw what Starscream’s spark desperately needed. You looked past your own pain in order to give that to him. You will become so much more than I ever was.” Optimus seemed to be glowing now, as he became more of a bare spark – than a ghost. He was being pulled by the matrix now.
“Optimus…” the clone reached out to his mech spark in desperation. The spark was leaving him, going into the light.
“Until all are one Opie. Until all are one…….” The spark that was once the great Autobot leader faded into the swirl of light…
……….. Opie felt their arms around him before he even fully reactivated. A said smile lit his face plate as his optics brightened. The press of familiar clone chassis against him – was as comforting as the best of Dr Peppers touching one’s lips.
“He’s awake!” Dante announced. Reaching across Glock’s chestplate that they were both sharing as a pillow, he eagerly shook Opie to full activation.
“What’s up?” Opie asked. He stretched his linkages, enjoying the sensation of Jag and Glock pressed along his length. It felt good to be wanted and loved…
“We’ve made rank,” Glock said with a proud puff of his chest. He was preening over the fact that they’d made rank faster than anyone else in the Unit’s short history.
“Wow? Really? That’s so cool!” Opie patted Glock’s chest and then Dante’s intake in praise.
“It is time for us to properly rejoice – yessssss,” the Megatron clone purred. With that, he initiated a four way orgy. The poor stoic Prowl clone officer – trapped into participating…. Not that he minded all that much – as far as the escalation of his moans would indicate….
------
Note: Found out if I write a little each day – they only hurt for a few hours after. Fucking CTS! Well, we’ll see when the next snow storm locks me in the house… And I have absolutely LOVED reading all of your reviews. They’ve filled me with some serious plot bunnies. Hope I answered a few of the ‘what about the real mech’ questions. I’m still trying to keep the story somewhat blended with the entry into season 3 of G1. Figure it’s been going on long enough to hit that time period.
So pllllllleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaassssseeeee review!
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