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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
- 16
- 17
- 18
**Age of the Machine part 15**
**Written by StSE; Universes G1, BW, TFA**

Note: This timeline is running congruently with G1 ‘The Movie’. Megatron and the other deceased and abandoned Decepticons are still floating off into space – soon to be found by Unicron.

BTW there is some good, ahem, poker action ahead in this chapter.

------

“Thanks for the lift Storm,” Opie said. He swung himself off of the Vortex hybrid’s skids, landing perfectly on the narrow steel beam. The maneuver took not only great skill but also strength, and the clone made it look graceful and effortless in only the way that a confident Optimus clone could pull off.

“No thanks is necessary – after giving me and Torie such a gift!” Storm replied. Even though he was still in alt mode his smile of bliss could still be clearly felt.

“It was nothing, simply doing my duty.” He smiled at the copter, still very pleased that getting Torie pregnant and then informing Storm of the conception had gone so smoothly.

“You are too humble for your own good.” His rotors slowed down a bit.

“Well, go take care of your human.” With a smile, Opie waved him away.

With a final wiggle of his stabilizers, the assault helicopter spun away and went back down towards the warehouse floor. He and Torie had much to discuss – much to plan…

Not even bothering to reach up and grab a handhold, the Prime clone turned on his peds and strode along the beam. His every footstep was solid and sure, as if he was merely walking along a path on the ground – not a narrow support beam forty feet from the hard concrete below. His optics and meta were locked on his target, his thoughts running along the lines of how to help the brooding gray clone.

Glock didn’t bother to greet the approaching clone. His red optics glowed steadily as he looked down upon the Unit members who scampered around as they set up a ‘camp’ like some small ant colony beneath them. The brooding expression on his face plate was strangely out-of-place for the normally in-control clone.

“Mind if I join you?” Opie politely asked when he got over to him.

The Megatron clone snorted, but still didn’t bother to look his way. “That’s obviously what you intend to do – is it not, yes?”

Settling down next to his partner, Opie let his legs hang over the edge of the beam. “Obviously,” he agreed in an offhanded manner.

They sat there side-by-side in silence for several long minutes, the gray clone trying to ignore the fact that he now had company – and the red/blue clone trying to decide on just the right way to start a conversation. Finally, Opie broke the silence, “It bothers you.”

“Nothing ‘bothers’ me,” Glock tersely replied. His tone making it obvious that he really didn’t wish to talk about anything right now, much less what was actually bothering him.

“It bothers you that you must continually prove you are worthy of trust – no matter that you’ve not done anything to lose it.” There, he’d said it. He’d been trying to figure out how to approach his friend about this – ever since he’d seen that look in his red optics during the whole Poet situation. Glock had pretended it hadn’t bothered him that the others had been suspicious. Pretended it was of no importance. Yet deep inside Opie was sure it was hurting his very spark.

“I have no issues. I prove myself do I not? Yes.” Glock couldn’t keep his voice totally free of sarcasm though. The slight tinge of it within his dismissive words made it obvious that it did indeed hurt him.

“I’m your partner Glock, I see it in your optics.” Opie put an arm across his gray shoulder plates. “You can talk to me. It goes no further.”

The Megatron clone snorted in contempt. This weakness he had tried to bury deep within him, just as he refused to give in to his memory echoes. Now it was clear he had not been entirely successful in his attempt. “I do not care to discuss it, no.”

“You don’t deny that it hurts though. I understand that it hurts you when they don’t trust. But I trust you though. I trust you with my life.” Opie squeezed his hand, attempting to comfort his stubborn partner. Glock’s armor seemed strangely warm though. Perhaps it was because of his internal stress?

“You don’t understand shit Opie,” Glock growled and shrugged off his arm. His armor ached for some reason. His sensors were just too sensitive to deal with another’s touch right now.

“Then make me understand.” The Prime clone’s instinct to comfort another was just too strong for him to stop. Since Glock had shrugged off his arm, he set his hand down on top of the other clone’s. He now rubbed his digits along his partner’s.

With a disgusted sigh, the Megatron clone knew without a doubt that his partner was not going to give up until he discussed his problems. This was exactly what a Megatron model hated doing – admitting weakness! Yet now he was stuck doing it – or he’d be relentlessly pestered until he did. “How would you feel if you were the only one Opie?” he muttered.

“The only one what?” Opie’s optic ridges furrowed together as he tried to make sense of that statement.

“You’re so fucking dense! The only one of your model ever found with a god-damned spark!” He yanked his hand away from Opie’s attention. HE didn’t need any pathetic comforting crap from the clone. “And the reason we aren’t given the chance to get sparks – is that humans can’t think of us as something to love. They simply use us!”

His partner’s angst went far deeper than he’d thought. Opie felt sorry for him. “It’s because of your mech’s reputation. Your model tends to only be purchased for law enforcement or military – not as pleasure clones.”

“A nice way of saying that we’re no better than mere factory-bots. They purchased us, assign us with partners – who only thought of us as tools. Nothing more, yes…” Glock clenched and unclenched his hands, his frustration at the entire system that had once been - was palpable.

“But obviously you convinced some human in your past – that you were worth loving. You broke the mold.” Opie fought the urge to physically comfort his partner again. Glock was not in the mood for it. Which was hard for a Prime clone to stop doing – they were the nurturing type…

Red optics dimmed as he accessed the memory files from his early life. A life with a human partner who was strong.. Who taught him to hide any and all weakness… “Yeeeeesssss,” he whispered.

“What was your human like?” Opie saw the far away look build behind those red orbs, this was the time to get the clone to open up in a way he wouldn’t normally do. As he studied the clone, the thought that Glock’s jawline looked somehow different kept popping up. He shook off those thoughts – now was not the time..

Glock could see Tony cleary in his meta. The man so proud and strong.. A leader amongst the other police officers… A man that everyone wanted to be around… He had been everything Glock wanted to become. “He was perfection.”

“Why?” Opie swore he could feel the faint tinge of spark energy waves flowing over him from Glock. Why was that? It wasn’t something that normally occurred except for when eve sparks were in the act of bonding. His optic ridges furrowed in thought. Perhaps it simply had something to do with Glock’s emotional state.

“He overcame all odds. He was strong. He was a leader.” Glock’s optics were still focused within. His spark pulsed hard, almost seeming to cause a ripple of energy which flowed across his too-hot armor.

“So, you earned his love then?”

Glock stiffened at those words, his optics narrowing sharply. He remembered soft flesh under his digits; soft female moans rang in his audios. “I earned his respect – but her love..”

Ok, this was an interesting story. Had it been a love triangle or something? Again, Opie had to fight his urge to reach out and touch his friend. Instead, he drummed his digits against the beam. “Her?”

Leaning back against one of the cross linking supports, Glock nodded. “Tony had been in a very bad on-duty accident many years prior to the department purchasing us clones. He had pushed himself through rehabilitation – to the point that none of his co-workers could tell there was any remnants from those injuries.”

“But there were – weren’t there?”

“Yes,” Glock paused for a moment; he was preparing to tell the one secret that his now-deceased human partner had kept hidden from everyone – but Glock and his wife. It was a hard thing to do. Yet the man was long dead as were all those who had known him – so was there a reason to keep the secret still? “Like all the police clone partners, we were sent home with our assigned humans. Most of us were forced to defrag on couches or the floor. Yes.”

Opie frowned slightly, “They hadn’t been informed that clones have the same requirements as humans?”

“No, the Decepticons didn’t feel it was necessary to admit that kind of weakness in their clones. Especially Megatron clones, no.” Glock’s optics hardened as he remembered trying to get comfortable on that too-small couch. “It had its advantages though. I could hear everything that went on between my partner and his wife, yes,” he admitted. He had listened all those months, silently longing to be in there with them - A need that no Megatron clone would ever consider admitting to.

“Which was?”

“Sometimes they would attempt intercourse. Tony tried different medications and nothing was effective. So they would end up arguing. He would end up storming out to the kitchen and proceeded to get drunk, yes.” The arguments still rang in his audios. Arguments which meant nothing now that the two humans were dead, but arguments that would live on for hundreds of years in the memory banks of the clone…

Opie waited silently for his partner to continue.

“One night Tony turned to me and ordered me to satisfy his wife in his place. Claimed that that was what good partners did for each other. He’d rather her be with a machine – than another man. Yes.” Glock’s voice dropped very low as he spoke, still obviously bothered that his partner had thought of him as nothing but a machine.

“So that was the start of her becoming emotionally attached to you?”

Glock cut his optics sideways at his partner. “Yes. She loved Tony with all of her heart – but she began to long for my cable. She was the human that gave me my spark. She was the human who cared for me and made sure I was comfortable. It was to her that I promised to give my life to protect Tony.”

“Which you almost did. That’s why you had to be sent back to the factory for repairs. We found you on the shipment back to the department.”

Glock nodded an ironic smile on his gray face plate. “After they stabilized my vitals in order to ship me back for rebuilding, Amy came up and hugged me and cried. For the first time a human thanked me. She promised me my own room when I was shipped back.”

“And then they were all killed by the eruption. I’m sorry Glock.” Opie meant it with his entire spark.

“I need no pity, no” the Megatron clone growled. “No, no pity!” He was silent for a moment, before deciding to change the topic. “Speaking of death, how does it feel now that it is confirmed by Dinobot that your mech is no longer functioning?”

Taken aback by the sudden change of topic, Opie frowned. “Well, um…”

“It is true – his freed spark came to you? Yeesss..”

“Yes, we’re pretty positive that’s what happened. It was his ghost.” The Prime clone thought back on that strange dream. It had been so real when he had held Optimus’s hand. The pain so real in the mech’s optics…

“Have you noticed that it is the sparked clones without close emotional connection to a human that are now plagued with the memory echoes? Yes.” Glock’s optics scanned Opie’s bared face plate as he said that. The pattern had been obvious to him – but no one else it seemed.

Thinking about it, Opie compared the clones suffering from memory echoes to those that weren’t. “By god – you’re right! We’ve never thought of that.”

“Mmmmm, sometimes what is obvious to one – is not to everyone else, yeeessss.” Pleased with himself, Glock stretched his too-hot linkages. “I theorize that deep emotional attachment to a human protects sparked clones from the memory echo activations, yeeessss.”

“That makes sense I guess,” Opie agreed. “But then why aren’t you afflicted?”

“Dinobot claims that Megatron was not terminated during the great battle.”

“But he was never seen again.”

Glock shrugged, his optics brightening, “a new Decepticon leader shall rise soon – Galvatron. Don’t you see the connection? Yes.”

“No.”

The gray clone chuckled, his spark sure of what he was going to explain. “The new menace Unicron that Dinobot claims will rise – will change Megatron into this new leader. A mighty leader, yes.” He could feel him rising within his very spark, as if they were somehow linked across the lightyears of empty space.

His blue optics went wide in surprise. “So you believe that they’re actually one and the same mech? How?”

Glock stood up, swaying a bit as his too-hot linkages sought to compensate. “It’s simple. If the matrix is going to change a pathetic Hot Rod into the next Prime – then the equally powerful Unicron shall do the same to Megatron. Yesssss.” His spark energy waved over him, making him slightly giddy.

“You seemed pleased by this thought. But that leaves you with no mech either. Just like me.” Opie also stood up, his optics filling with concern as he noticed his partner’s unsteadiness.

“That leaves us with ourselves – which is better, yes.” Glock swayed a little more. Reaching up, he curled his digits along the roof trestle for balance. Damn he was getting overheated!

“Why do you believe that is better?” Reaching out, Opie helped to steady him. His optics filling with more concern as the clone’s high temperature spark energy flowed through his digits.

“We are now left to create our own future, yes.. To build a great nation together, yes!” Glock’s optics gleamed as he considered his vision, his voice growing strong and confident. “You will lead the civilians – and I the military, yes.”

“You have it all planned out – don’t you Glock?” Opie narrowed his optics at his partner suspiciously, it wasn’t good for his partner to dream so big when they were still a small Unit struggling to survive.

The Megatron clone chuckled. “We must think ahead in order to plan.” Turning his optics to the Prime clone, he locked the blue orbs with his gaze. “You see Opie, its all part of my masterplan, yes. Though the Autobot clones and the humans distrust me as a fellow Unit member – they trust me as a soldier, as a warrior. With you, it’s the opposite. So together – we build upon each other’s social strengths. We can utilize our models’ reputations to the maximum. And lead our nation to greatness! Yes!”

Running his hands over his partner’s overheated chassis; Opie fought back his urge to roll his optics at those big plans. “That’s all good and dandy. Right now we need to get you to the medical trailer to find out what’s wrong with your temperature control sensors.”

------

Meanwhile, two Starscream clones also try to work things through……
-----

Slowly opening the door a tad, Scream poked his helm in. Sure enough, there was his fellow Starscream clone, back turned towards him, muttering unhappily under his breath as he mixed the contents of several test tubes. Scream watched him silently for a moment, wondering just where a fellow Starscream model had gotten such a fascination for chemicals anyways.

“I heard you open the fucking door. You just going to stand there like a dumb-aft?” Dante snorted without bothering to turn around. Hearing the sound of thrusters tapping the ground, his frown deepened as he realized it wasn’t his boyfriend coming to apologize. Then again, the mere vision of a Megatron clone lowering himself TO apologize wasn’t all that believable to start with. Sigh, why in the frag had he ever trusted the word of one of those models in the first place?

“Well no, just figured I’d see what you were up to,” Scream replied as he neared the other. Scanning Dante’s squarish air frame as he ran his hand down his own slender femme hip, he wondered how he had handled looking so mechish for all those years. It still didn’t seem right for a Starscream clone to look mech.

“Nothing that concerns you.” Dante turned around, blocking Scream’s view of the latest project with his wings. “So what does my Air Commander want?” he demanded to know. Hell, he wasn’t even part of the frontal assault wing. He was part of the medvac squadron along with the coward Bond. So in actuality he was under McCoy’s command – not Scream’s.

“Oh nothing much,” Scream lied. “Just wondering how you were doing.”

“You might be able to bullshit Charge – but not me,” Dante snorted. He was in no mood to deal with another Starscream clone’s conniving ways – even if that clone was the Unit’s Air Commander! “Either be straight with me – or find the fucking door!” He made a point to wave towards the door, just in case the femme Starscream model had forgotten where it was.

“Geese, chill out Dante.” Scream reached out towards the other Seeker. His sensitive spark could feel the other’s internal pain.

Roughly Dante slapped him away. “I’ll ‘chill out’ when I’m slaggin’ ready to!”

“Sharing Glock is really fraggin’ you – isn’t it?” The feminized Seeker cocked his helm as his optics locked with Dante’s.

Snorting, the other Seeker crossed his arms and jutted out his chin. “He’s a fucking Megatron model. I should never have trusted him!”

Scream couldn’t help but wince inside. He’d felt that way as well. But it wasn’t Glock’s fault that he was the one model that no one would ever automatically trust. “Glock can be trusted. He’s proven himself.”

“You’re such a bigot Scream! How dare you say that to me – when you still can’t stand to be within touching distance of him! I should never have given him my spark!” Dante’s face contorted in indignant rage, his hands curling up into fists. The first clone that had actually claimed to be his – betrayed him! Just like that fragger Jamie had!

“Damn-it Dante – the fragger loves you. He can’t help it that every Autobot clone is suffering memory echoes involving him!”

“Yeah, that’s a load of oil. He ENJOYS slaggin’ them! ENJOYS IT!” Dante’s optics gleamed in jealous rage over it all. He just wanted a clone for himself. That’s all he’d ever wanted! Lunging forward, he swung at Scream.

Ducking the blow, the battle-hardened Seeker grabbed Dante’s extended arm. In the blink of an optic, he’d used the clone’s own momentum to flip him helm-over-thruster into the far wall. Before Dante knew what had hit him, the other’s sleek hips had settled across his afterburners, holding him down face first on the floor.

“Don’t you EVER try that again Dante,” Scream growled in his audio. “I’ll rip your wings right off your back if you do.” He leaned forward, arm cannon pressed against Dante’s helm. “You may have been a big shot where we found you – but here you’re nothing but a medvac unit. Don’t EVER dare to think you can threaten one of us front line troops!”

Snarling, Dante tried to get up, only to get his face plate smashed back down to the ground. He was in fact helpless under the Air Commander.

“Now will you fucking just calm down and listen to me? Or do I need to wipe your afterburners in your own oil some more?” Scream whispered in a threatening tone.

For another moment, Dante considered continuing the fight though it was obvious he was far outmatched by the battle-hardened Commander. He came to his senses before he made that mistake though. “Ok, I’ll listen. But I’m not saying that I’ll agree with squat,” he spat.

Getting off of him, Scream sat down on the floor and nodded for Dante to sit across from him. “Glock loves you Dante.”

“Fuck him,” Dante muttered.

“If he didn’t – he wouldn’t put a freagin’ condom on. He’d just enjoy the sparkbonding with the Autobot clones. Admit it!”

Dante snorted and looked away, unwilling to admit jack to the feminized version of himself.

Scream kicked him. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

“What? You pullin’ rank on me now? Like I give a shit.” Though Dante still spat defiance, he did meet the other’s optics.

“What is it going to take for you to believe that no matter who he ‘faces - Glock’s spark is only yours?”

Dante gnawed on his lower lip, still too jealous of Glock’s actions to forgive him. “He’s nothing but a Megatron clone. He doesn’t have a spark that feels jack.”

Scream sighed and shook his head. “I used to think that – but I was wrong Dante. Glock is not ‘just a Megatron clone’ – he’s Glock. He’s a Unit brother we can trust.”

Leaning forward, Dante’s optics gleamed wickedly. “When you prove to me that YOU really do trust him – then I’ll trust him. Period.” With that, he stood up and left the room. The door slamming behind him…

Leaning his wings back against the wall, Scream looked up at the ceiling. What had he just gotten himself in to?

-----

Poker night, three days later….

------

Scream glanced from friend-to-friend as he strode into the living quarters. There were seven of them seated Indian-style on the floor facing each other, back armor leaned up against the couches. TC, Jag, Opie, Dante, Flame, Samie and Glock – all the invited clones/humans were there. The ever busy Jag was already shuffling several decks together.

They all glanced up at him as he arrived. A convenient spot left ‘open’ between Jag and Opie. Dante making sure to sit on the other side of TC so that he wouldn’t be close to Glock – since he was still pissed. Grinding his dental plates together, Scream made a quick decision on where he should sit. “Move over a tad would ya?” he asked TC. Without any explanation, he crammed himself in between the blue Seeker and the Megatron clone. He tried to ignore the confused look that Opie shot him. “Come on Jag, are you gonna deal already?”

Glock narrowed his optics suspiciously at the red Seeker pressed tightly between him and the Thundercracker clone. This was highly unusual behavior for Scream, considering that he was still slightly nervous when they were even in the same room. Accepting the cards thrown his way, he happened to meet Opie’s confused orbs. With a silent shrug, he informed his partner that he was confused as well. His optics followed the cards until they rested onto Dante. Ahhhhh, beautiful jealous Dante. A Seeker who just couldn’t forgive him for his imagined failings…

… But what was that look on Dante’s face plate? Glock studied his body language. Dante was positively glaring at Scream! His entire air frame was stiff. The Megatron clone glanced from one red Seeker to the other. Something was going on between the two. What it was – he could only guess.

Time passed….. The game went on…. Glock, Opie and Jag easily out playing the less tactically-minded Seekers…. Flame and Samie somewhere in the middle of the pack - the pair having more fun playing around – than being serious players…Which was pretty standard for the pair…

“It seems that you are out of chips. Perhaps you should fold, yes?” Glock chuckled as Scream sputtered next to him. It was only he and the Air Commander left on this round, and he could tell that he had the superior hand. Starscream models were never good at keeping any type of poker faces. He shifted his chassis a bit. His armor was still too hot and too sensitive – and none of the medics had been able to explain why. So he just had to deal with it for now. And being so tightly pressed against the Seeker next to him – was becoming uncomfortable.

“Mmmmm, my hand’s too good,” Scream muttered to himself. He glanced up and met Dante’s optics again. The other Seeker had been glaring at him like a hawk for the entire game.

The Megatron clone chuckled. “The last time you made that statement – Opie got most of your remaining chips. Fold now; admit that I’ve won this round. Yes.”

Scream’s wings trembled. He’d been waiting for a moment like this. His plan had been to change the stakes from chips to other wagers. But now that the moment was upon him – his nerves were trying to get the best of him. Gulping down his rising fear, he forced himself to say what he’d been rehearsing. “Then I’ll just have to bet something besides chips then.”

Opie and Jag glanced at each other, optic ridges raised in curiosity.

Glock merely grinned, “I would consider an atypical bet. I assume we are discussing a Dr. Pepper?” Scream was known for his soda stash…

“Um, no, something even better.” Scream fidgeted nervously. If looks to kill – Dante would’ve off lined him an hour ago…. This was a game of metas between them – they both knew it…

“Then what hmmmm Air Commander?” the gray clone arched an optic ridge in amusement. If he’d been the real mech, that tone would’ve been followed up by a back handed smack across Starscream’s face plate. But this was Glock, and there wasn’t a mean screw in his frame.

Every one but Dante leaned in expectantly. That clone just huffed and crossed his arms in total disgust at his fellow Seeker.

“A kiss.” Scream’s intake threatened to back up even as he made the offer. He couldn’t image his lips against those of a Megatron clone’s. But he had to prove to Dante that he fully trusted Glock. That was the only way Dante would accept that a Megatron clone could be trusted.

Every one gasped in surprise – except Dante that is. His glare threatened to bore a hole straight through Scream. “You’re full of slag Scream,” he spat, “Everyone knows you’ll go screaming out of the room with your afterburners between your legs before you’d kiss any Megatron clone!”

“I’ll loan you some chips,” Opie offered. He grabbed a few stacks of his and held them across the pile to Scream.

“No thanks, I’m upping the wager to a kiss.” Scream locked optics with Dante. “And unlike YOU – I don’t have a problem kissing a good clone.”

“I’ll wager that you can’t,” Dante tossed a couple of chips at him.

“Taken – and raised to a full glossa kiss,” Scream shot back.

“Whoa you two,” Opie held up a hand before it could go any further. He didn’t know what was going on between the two Starscream clones – but this was obviously more about them than Glock.

“Bro, let them do it – make for a good show,” Flame snickered. His human cyborg mate leaned against him and added his giggle.

“Are you truly serious about this wager?” Glock replied, his optics steely as he glanced at the Seeker. He could feel the air frame quaking ever so slightly. He knew Scream didn’t really want to make the bet. Didn’t want to kiss him. Then a light bulb went off in his meta as he felt the power of Dante’s glare. THAT’S what was going on between the two Seekers! Something about trusting him! A sly grin flowed across his face plate. “Mmmmm, but if you are serious – I will more than accept that wager, yes.”

Scream fought to keep his face plate from heating up. Fought to keep his poker face across his features…. “You lose – I get all the chips. I lose – you get the chips plus a kiss.”

“A full kiss – without puking afterwards,” Dante growled; His optics shown expectantly as he waited for the other red Seeker to faint dead away.

Straightening his wings, Scream jutted his chin out. “That’s what I bet – you fucker,” he muttered.

“Are you sure about this Scream? I really will give you some chips if you need them.” Opie glanced across the pile of chips, his face plate full of worry.

“He must have a royal – to bet something like this,” TC noted. He tried to crane his head so that he could view his brother’s hand.

Hiding the cards against his cockpit, Scream snorted. “I know what I’m doing.”

“You’ve been saying that for years – but you always lose,” Jag reminded him. The tactician’s optics studied him. He could see the fear. Why in the hell was Scream doing this to himself? It was obvious he was stressed just sitting next to the Megatron clone. What was he trying to prove to Dante?

“Bet is accepted,” Glock’s optics were unreadable as he met Scream’s optics, “Play your hand.” At the same time, he laid his hand out – letting everyone see his royal flush.

Gulping down his rising anxiety, Scream laid his hand out – all he had was straight fours!

“What were you thinking Scream?” Opie asked in amazement.

“Indeed, what type of strategy was that?” Jag’s optics narrowed in suspicion. The Seeker was a horrible card player – but not THAT horrible!

Glock met Dante’s optics as he collected his pile of chips. From the deepening glare – his suspicions were more than confirmed. This was a battle of wits between the two red Seekers – with him squarely in the middle of it. He just couldn’t decide if that particular position in the ‘game of wits’ was a positive or a negative.

“Oh, this is going to be soooo gooood,” Flame snickered, his blue optics gleaming in amusement.

“Hey, get the phone out. No one’s gonna believe this!” Samie tapped on Flame’s golden armor. He just so had to get a pic of this moment!

Calmly stacking his chips, Glock smirked inside as he felt Scream’s armor heating up next to him. The Seeker was absolutely petrified of this – but yet he was still sitting there – waiting to give up his lips because of his loss. “Tell me when you are ready Flame, yes,” he purred.

“Yeah, catch the fragger when he loses his last Dr. Pepper. Should be a good picture of our Air Commander at his best,” Dante growled. He still didn’t think that Scream could do it.

Lifting his chin, Scream’s optics hardened in challenge. “Then the next round the wager goes from kisses on up.”

“Uh, well I don’t know….” Opie glanced around the table.

“That’s not a good idea,” Jag agreed.

Fumbling with the cell phone, Flame glanced up and shrugged. “Why not Jag? Afraid you’ll get stuck with blowing me and Samie?” That got a snicker from a few of the players.

“Yeah Opie, I’ve always wanted a blow from a Prime,” TC agreed.

“Raised stakes like that would make for a hell of a game,” Samie grinned.

With resigned sighs, the pair realized they were outnumbered.

“Well, why don’t you quit your bluffing and go ahead – prove you can kiss the slogger without heaving your intake,” Dante challenged.

“Ready Air Commander, yes?” Glock asked.

Hiding his trembling, Scream nodded.

“Let’s make this good, yes….” The Megatron clone slid an arm around the Seeker and pulled him down into his lap. Stroking Scream’s shaking wings with a soothing hand he comlinked him. /I will keep telling you that I’m Glock over this. You can trust me Scream/

Biting down on his lower lip, Scream nodded. /Thanks/ he responded. Something deep inside him noticed the heat radiating up from the gray armor beneath him. A strange intensitification of Glock’s spark pulsed around them. His meta couldn’t focus on it through his fear though. That fear which now threatened to consume him. His optics darted wildly, his air frame shivered as he fought his instinct to hit and run like hell.

Bending down, Glock’s hot breath brushed the Seeker’s lips first. /Just tell me – what is going on between you and Dante, hmmm?/ An amused smile danced across his lips, warming the stern façade of his model.

/He’s convinced you can’t be trusted/ Scream replied, his digits dug into Glock’s upper arms as he fought his instinct to run… To fight… To get away from a Megatron clone at all costs. He couldn’t help but whimper slightly as Glock’s lips barely touched his. The clone’s lips were so hot – they almost burned as they glanced his. Shards of pure spark energy seemed to bolt through him from just that light contact.

/And you’re out to prove that I can be trusted. Why?/ Ever so gently, Glock pressed his lips down on the Seeker’s. Yet he kept the Seeker’s meta off of it as much as he could with their secret conversation. He ignored the tingling sensation that the Seeker’s light weight was causing to race through his networks from his strangely over-sensitive surface grids.

/I owe you that/ Scream’s engine threatened to lock up as he felt the gray clone’s glossa ask for entrance. He couldn’t…. He had to… He had to do this to pay Glock back for his undeserved distrust. He had to get Dante to believe the truth of the clone.

/Shhhhh, you know I’m Glock. I’m loyal to you and the Unit/ He continued to stroke the Seeker’s shivering wings in a soothing fashion. Scream’s strong eve spark energy pulsed wildly over them. His own oddly pulsing spark responding in turn.

/I, uh…/ His tank threatened to reflux as he parted his lips and allowed the Megatron clone entrance. It was so against his core instincts to trust a Megatron clone like this… So alien… The strange feel of the clone’s overly hot armor against his… The odd pulsation of Glock’s spark – just hidden under his armor… Scream gasped and tightened his grip, his digits leaving scratches of black against the gleaming gray…

/Shutter your optics, yes. Listen to my voice on your com. You are doing fine/ Glock stroked his glossa against Scream’s – trying to elicit a response from the fear-frozen Seeker. His spark wanted to reach out to the near-panicked Seeker. Reach out into the past and destroy the one who had rooted this overwhelming fear… Who had made life so much harder for Glock than it should have been amongst the free clones.

Forcing himself to trust Glock, Scream’s optics went dark. /I… I trust you Glock. I trust you…/ his voice was barely above a whisper through the com. He concentrated on the pulse of the spark energy which surrounded him. An energy that Tron never had… Never would have!

/Then kiss me back mighty Air Commander, yes/ Glock purred. He glanced over at Dante, who was sitting there, arms crossed and a gorgeous full pout on his face plate. /You’ve won this battle with Dante, Scream.. Mmmmm, Dante’s so beautiful when he pouts, yeeeessss./

The purr in Glock’s comm’d voice as he mentioned the other Seeker broke Scream out of his panic-induced freeze. This was Glock – not Tron. Glock, who loved another Starscream model…. Who was gentle in spirit… With a relieved shudder, Scream shifted his hands from Glock’s arms to the sides of his gray helm. He pulled him down hard, crushing their lips together as he forced himself to respond to the clone. /Glock… I want to trust you so bad…/ His frame shook as their glossas truly danced.

/You will. Give it time, yes… time/ Hearing Flame and Samie making comments as they looked at the digitals they’d just snapped – he slowly pulled free of Scream’s lips. “Mmmmm, very good technique Air Commander,” he purred as he licked his lips in an exaggerated fashion as if savoring the after flavor of the kiss.

“You’re not so bad either,” Scream replied as his optics came back online. Struggling to sit back up, his face plate stayed heated as he accidentally met Opie’s blue orbs. He should’ve been kissing that youngster like this instead. But he owed Glock. He needed to pay him back – before he pursued other endeavors. Surely the Prime clone would understand it?

Dante merely snorted contemptuously and restacked his few remaining chips. He was not about to admit defeat – yet.

“So, let’s get to the next round,” TC snickered.

Flame set his cell phone down on his leg armor. He wasn’t going to put it away just yet. Things were going to get – interesting… “First wager’s five – next is a kiss …”

“.. Next is a hand job – how about a good ass eating after that?” Samie glanced around the group. He was a young man – and this type of wagering was more than up his alley.

“I still don’t know about this,” Jag said to Opie even as he dealt the cards.

“Neither do I,” Opie whispered back. /Can you believe that he didn’t throw up?/ he privately com’d to Jag. The Prime clone studied the object of his deepest crush. Scream had a rather stubborn expression on his face plate – perhaps one that was actually smug. As if he’d won a major battle or something.

The Prowl clone glanced sideways at him, his face plate unreadable. /Negative. Scream was terrified./

/He’s out to prove something to Dante/ Picking up his cards, the Prime clone glanced over at the sullen red Seeker. He glanced from Seeker to Seeker, becoming ever more positive that whatever this game was – it was more a contest between the two Starscream clones – than anything else.

/Agreed. But how far is he prepared to take this?/ Setting down the deck, the tactician picked up his hand and began to sort.

Opie glanced from Scream to Dante and back again. /All the way from the looks of those two/

/Can Glock handle this competition – in his current condition?/ Jag met Opie’s blue orbs as he began to deal the next round.

/We still can’t figure out exactly what ‘his condition’ is/ the Prime medic sighed. His optics drifted to his partner, who’s very armor seemed to flow in waves of spark energy now.

/He’s smart enough to refuse if he can’t handle it/ the tactician turned his optics back to Scream. /I’m not sure that Scream is though./

/And you call me compulsive,/ Opie rolled his optics.

Jag didn’t bother to even acknowledge that last quip with a reply; he just gave a resigned sigh.

The next round ended with Opie winning the hand. Granted, he wasn’t exactly sure that he really wanted to be the winner of this game. Flame, Samie and Jag had all folded at just the kiss – so now he had to kiss each one. TC, Scream and Glock had folded at the handjob …. But Dante? No Dante had been sure he’d win this one so he’d held on. He’d wanted to have Scream watch his secret love give him head – but he’d lost by one card. So now he owed Opie that lick job. His optics brooded as he sulked…

“Mmmm, me first!” Samie just about leaped over Flame and planted his lips on the unready Prime clone. He’d always wanted to kiss a Prime. What fun!

His mouth almost being raped by the eager young man, Opie felt other hands on his pelvic plating. Figuring they were just trying to get this round of ‘bet payment’ over with, he activated his cable without even bothering to see who was going for it.

“Damn, you’re a good kisser!” Licking his lips, the young man brushed his dark lips against Opie’s one last time.

Before Opie could even catch his breath, Flame’s lips bore down on his. He moaned into the golden one’s mouth as he felt hands stroke his pressurizing cable. He was sure it was more than a single clone doing it. They tickled the sensitive tip a few times, snickering playfully as he arched up a bit. “Mmmmmm,” Opie gasped as his lips were released yet again. His cable was stroked even faster…

Glancing down, he saw a blue arm and a red arm attached to the clone hands that now surrounded his member. Before he could think further on it – Jag’s mouth commanded his as the ever-down-to-business clone gave him a thoroughly efficient full-glossa kiss. Hands grabbed his legs, forcing them further apart. Lying back, Opie moaned as he sucked on Jag’s glossa. He felt someone pressing digits against his closed port panels. With an excited shudder, his protective panels slid aside – allowing the unseen clone full access to do as he pleased with his glossa…

…. Charge frowned as he passed by the Seekers home trailer. The door was cracked just slightly, but it was enough to allow the sounds of ‘facing to be faintly heard. Stopping in his tracks, the Ground Commander listened intently, his meta going through identification programs. Anger filled him as he identified the primary moaner as another Optimus clone. Deciding to take a moment of his shift to deal with the interloper and his fech mate – Charge grabbed the door and roughly pulled it open. His hands balling into fists as he marched inside…

Storming past the silent and closed bunks, he headed straight for the sounds of interfacing. His engine ran hot. His battle processor full on. He was so ready to kick the young Prime clone’s tail pipes into the next valley over this! The youngster deserved to learn a hard lesson – no matter what Doc and Jag kept saying!

“Hey babe,” Scream’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

Charge’s mouth hung open in shock as the scene unfolded before him. Opie WAS involved in pre-interface activities. But not with whom he’d expected in the least. Jag had a hold on his mouth, Glock was stroking his ready shaft with an amused smirk on his face plate, meanwhile Dante had his face plate buried between the Prime clone’s spread legs… “What is going on here?” he demanded to know.

His fech mate shrugged with a smug grin. “Just playing poker like always.”

“This,” Charge waved his hand towards the action, “Is NOT poker!”

“Sure it is,” Flame snickered. He and Samie were busily collecting up the cards so that they could deal again once the others were finished paying off their wager. “We’re just bettin’ other stuff tonight.” He gave the Ground Commander a thorough once over with his optics. “I’d ask if you wanted to join us – but rumor is you ain’t much into excitement.”

“Actually I…” The Prime hybrid was just about to light into the arrogant Sunstreaker clone, but he was cut off.

Finishing up the kiss he owed, Jag looked up. “He cannot join us – since he’s scheduled to be on shift right now.”

“Yes, that.” Charge shifted uncomfortably from ped-to-ped, his optics still darting from Scream to Opie and back. He’d been so certain that he’d catch the pair at it… So certain… Instead, they were on opposite sides of the card game. Not exactly what he’d expected that was for certain.

“Damn – Dante! Mmmmmmmm!” Opie moaned as he arched up against the Seeker’s invasive glossa. His optics flickered for a moment before they focused. That’s when he noticed the other Prime clone standing there. Another Prime clone that he just couldn’t help but bait a little – since they all knew why Charge had flown in here with his battle processor on.

“Well, I’m done,” Dante announced with a final swipe of his glossa. Turning his helm, he shot a sly glance at Scream. He wanted to see his fellow Seeker show some jealousy.. Something…

“As am I, yes…” Glock removed his hand and took back his spot.

“Hey Charge. You should really try some of Dante’s glossa. It’s greeeeaaaaatttt!” Opie suffered some afterglow trembles as he sat back up. His entire sensory net tingled from their attentions, his interface nets aching for more. “Damn you guys made me hornier than hell.” His optics never left the other Prime, and true to form his bold comments about interfacing had achieved the expected outcome, Charge’s face plate heated up a bit. The clone was such an inhibited Optimus!

“Then you’d better try to win the next round, hmmmm?” Glock snickered with a knowing gleam in his optics. Now there was not only the battle going on between the Seekers – but the Primes as well. This was a very stimulating evening!

The group went back to their game, completely ignoring the stunned Commander standing there. Shaking his helm in disbelief, he gave them one last glance before leaving the trailer. Obviously he’d stumbled upon a mere game – nothing as serious as he’d suspected…

….. “Mmmmm, you taste as sweet as Dante, yes,” Glock purred as he rose up from Scream’s lips.

Pinned beneath the Megatron clone, Scream fought the sensation of creepy crawlies that were running through his nets from the contact between their armor plating. Once again, he’d made sure to raise the stakes higher – only to lose again. This time he wasn’t sure he could go through with it though. His intakes threatened to reflux as the length of his shaft rubbed against Glock’s. Forcing a smile to his lips, he licked them as if he had enjoyed the gray clone’s flavor just as much. /When is he going to stop us?/ he whined in Glock’s private com.

The Megatron clone smirked as he glanced up at Dante. /Watch this/ he silently replied. Out loud he made a show of sizing the two Seekers up against each other. “You know Dante, I believe you are enjoying watching me with him, yes. Perhaps I should…” Shifting his hips, he suddenly had his cable tip right at the entrance to Scream’s port, causing everyone to gawk in disbelief as the Seeker beneath him squeaked in shock and began to tremble – yet didn’t try to escape.

Dante’s optics lit up in total outrage. With a growl, he leapt to his thrusters, stormed over and kicked Glock so hard that he rolled off of Scream. “YOU’RE MINE!” he screamed, tears running down his cheeks. Before he could stomp on the helpless Seeker at his peds, strong arms wrapped around him from behind, pinning his arms to his sides…. Cursing, he tried to twist away from Opie to no avail.

“Shhhhh Dante, it’s just a game,” the Prime clone whispered as he held him still while Scream crawled to a safe distance. Jag wrapped his arms around the shaking fech as Scream whimpered in relief. He’d pushed himself too far – almost to the edge of his sanity in order to ‘prove’ his trust in Glock.

Standing up, Glock studied his bond mate with critical optics. Reaching out, he brushed the rage/hurt tears from Dante’s handsome façade. “When are you going to trust me Dante, yes? When are you going to love me?” With that, he turned his back armor to him and went to sit down.

Feeling Dante go limp in his arms, Opie let him go. Weeping and asking for forgiveness, Dante crawled to Glock and collapsed in his lap.

“Geese, and they call us Drama queens,” Flame snickered to Samie.

Giving the golden one a shrug, Opie moved to sit on the other side of Scream and added his arms to Jag’s. Between the two of them – they finally calmed him down after many minutes.

Later…….

…. “And I take your blowjob and raise it to a rimming,” Dante challenged as he met Scream’s optics.

Flame whistled, his digits rubbing the cell phone. He just hoped it had enough memory left for the next round of pay back. Opie, Glock, and the two red Seekers were the only ones left in this round. Though by now, all of them had their cables (or cocks in Samie’s case) out and ready. They stroked them even as they played cards. For they were all very… VERY HORNY!

“I’m in,” Scream announced.

“In,” Glock smirked at the Seeker across from them.

“In,” Opie added.

“Ok, lay them out,” Jag the dealer stated. Ironically, he saw the pun in his words just as he spoke them.

Dante laid out a straight of eights…

Scream laid out a straight of nines…

Glock and Opie both had cocky smirks on their face plates as they laid their hands down in synch. Glock with a royal flush of spades – Opie with a royal flush of hearts…

“Hmmmm, I assume that it’s acceptable to you if we ‘split’ the pot, yes?” Glock purred with a conniving gleam in his ruby orbs.

“One-for-one seems fair enough,” Opie agreed. His optics drifted over Dante to settle on Scream who was still seated next to him. “Want to prove you’re better than him?” His words were off-handed, but his spark was pulsing in excitement. He hadn’t had a true kiss from Scream since…. He had to think hard. It was before the sparkling was born!

“More than willing to prove it,” Scream replied. He shot Dante a challenging look as he crawled over to Opie. Now that they had everything ‘worked out’ between Glock and Dante – it was time for him to prove he was superior to the Seeker in other ways.

“I’ll wager that I can make mine overload faster,” Dante snorted. He had forgotten his jealous anger towards Glock about an hour ago as the game had continued to intensify. By now he and the other red Seeker had done everything BUT interface with almost everyone else in the group. But neither of them would stop playing. Neither of them would admit they had been bested by the other.

“Mmmmmmm, love it when Seekers compete, yeeeeeesssss,” Glock threw back his helm as he lay back, his cable swiftly disappearing inside that gorgeous mouth he so prized.

“Ahhhhhh, agree with you on mmmmmmm that.” Opie shivered as Scream slithered into his lap. The Seeker grabbed his helm and forced him to meet soft lips in a burst of intense spark energy field flux. The kiss ended too abruptly as the smooth cockpit slid down his hood. Throwing his helm back against the couch, the young clone gasped in delight as Scream flicked the end of his cable with an experienced glossa. Rays of pure ecstasy flickered over his chassis as he looked down and watched his beloved Scream with his lips wrapped around him.

Lifting up, the fech flicked the end of the shaft again. “Raise the wager. Loser has to interface,” Scream snickered with a sideways glance at his fellow Seeker. With a long stroke, he caused Opie to thrust hard against him. He’d wanted this moment. Wanted this moment from the day that Opie had jumped out of that window and landed along his topside…

Lifting up his head for a moment, Dante flicked his glossa along the length of Glock’s shaft. “Matched. Prepare to lose.” Pumping Glock’s length, he went down between those strong gray legs and lapped teasingly at the ready port. His glossa gently rimming the entrance. Glock’s armor seemed hot, awful hot. And his spark energy was flowing over him in waves. Dante figured it was because he’d finally touched him again, that’s all it was.

Opie glanced over at Jag as Scream raised that bet. The stoic clone had a masked expression on his face plate even as he stroked himself while watching them. The sensitive Prime clone could feel his want, his pain. “No, I don’t agree with that wager.”

“Are you crazy Opie? Just LOOK at what’s between your legs!” Flame exclaimed, all the while playing with his cyborg’s at the same time.

“Y – you don’t want me?” Scream stared up at him in hurt shock. His optics quickly filling with unshed tears… Had he waited to long? Had the young Prime clone felt that all his promises were lies? His lower lip began to tremble anxiously, along with his wings.

Even Dante stopped for a moment. Seizing upon his fellow Seeker’s failure, he snickered and went back to his blow. He was going to win this particular battle of wits – and glossas for that matter!

“No, I uh,” Opie tried to think fast, the hurt in Scream’s optics tore at his spark. “I want it raised to double interface.” He gave Jag an apologetic smile.

Following Opie’s gaze, Scream realized what was going on. Opie and Jag were now a pair – neither one would interface with him without the other. Gulping, he wondered if he could. He’d only thought of Opie for so long. Well, then the sparkling had taken over his life for almost the last year… It wasn’t that he didn’t love dear Jag with all of his spark. It’s just.. Well, he only lusted for Opie. But he’d once been hot for the Prowl clone. The strong, steady Prowl clone.. “Ok,” he said in a weak voice. He owed Jag that much didn’t he? Jag had stood by him through so much.

“Interesting, yeeeeeessss, mmmmmmmm,” Glock murmured. Spark energy rippled over his surface. Dante’s touch and lips on his cable felt like shards of pure fire roaring through his sensory grids.

Crawling over, Jag wrapped himself tightly against Opie, his taunt cable rubbing against Opie’s hip armor. “Thankyou,” he whispered as he took the Prime clone’s lips. /thankyou/ he gasped over their comlink.

His cable disappearing once again into Scream’s mouth, Opie wrapped his arms around the tactician and pressed him close as they kissed. /you took me in – I owe you this. We are spark mates/ he silently replied.

Digits curled around his cable. Hesitant digits explored him as if it was their first time to touch him…. Arching against the Opie’s powerful frame, Jag felt as though his meta was drifting off into a memory echo. But this was an echo of his own fantasy… Of Scream touching him again…. And Opie as strong as Charge…

“Daddy? Daddy!?!” A shrill whine interrupted the ongoing orgy.

“I told you to stay with Sharon!” TC griped as he rubbed Dante’s brilliant wings.

Ignoring his clone mate, Bond fell to his knee plates next to Scream and his interface partners. “Thank god I found you daddy!”

Pulling a little free of Jag, Scream glared at the interloper. “For the last time – I’m NOT your fucking dad! Now leave us alone!” he barked.

Beginning to cry, Bond wrapped his arms around himself and began to rock. “But I hurt daddy. Make it go away!”

With a disgusted growl, Scream opened his mouth to order the annoyingly pathetic mate of his brother to get the fuck out – Opie stopped him in his tracks though.

A concerned look on his face plate, the Prime clone unwrapped himself from Scream and Jag, his interface systems shutting down as he did so. Sitting up, he instinctively wrapped his arms protectively around the sobbing purple Seeker. Bond’s armor was as hot as Glock’s. What was going on? “Tell me how you feel Bond.”

Pressing himself against the strong clone’s hood, fear filled Bond’s voice as he whispered “my spark, my armor – I’m burning inside. Make it stop Opie. Please make it stop.”

“So much for the mood, yes…” Glock untangled himself from his mates, who were glaring in frank disapproval at the purple Seeker who’d ruined the fun. “The sensation he describes is identical to my own.”

“You sure?” Opie asked as he rubbed Bond’s wings soothingly. The Seeker’s armor felt weak… Pliable… With a start, he realized that Glock’s was as well. “We’ve got to get you two to the med trailer!” Standing, he picked the sobbing Seeker into his arms.

“It’s too late, yes,” Glock stated. He sank to his knees before passing out cold on the floor. At the same time Bond went completely limp as well.

“Glock? Glock!” Dante crawled over to his unconscious mate, his optics full of worry.

Laying Bond down next to Glock, Opie began to run medical scans over them both. “Someone get the other medics – now!” he ordered. He didn’t even notice as Flame ran out of the trailer to find them. His meta was totally consumed with his duty to help his Unit members as best he could – which wasn’t much since he hadn’t the slightest clue as to what was happening to them!

-----

Note: It’s going to get REAL twisted next chapter! And plllllleeeeeeeaaaaassssseeee leave a review if you’re still into this tale!
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Age of the Machine (Market Comodity 3)