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Rise of the Living Matrix (Market Commodity IV)	By : Scienceteacher Category: Transformers > G1 > Round Robins Views: 1371 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Do not own hasbro/transformers. Am not making a dime.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
*Rise of the Living Matrix part 3* by stSE
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Note: Must went with the action….
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Pax’s quiet words slowly faded, the silence hanging thick in the still air of the dark room. He felt his new leader’s digits curl around his, and a wave of strength flowed through him at the encouraging squeeze. The ‘blank’ Prime clones stared at him in disbelief. Disbelief that clones could be so cruel to one another as to intentionally cause so much pain. But the nods from the damaged looking, yet strangely confident and strong Prime clone next to him, made them understand that every word, every detail, was true.
“So you are telling us that we” the clone asking the question swept his arm to the side, indicating that he was including all of the other ‘blank’ clones sitting with him “were all so abused that our harddrives crashed completely?”
“Yes,” Opie nodded.
“Makes sense that we would have no memory files then,” another muttered. He rubbed his facemask in thought. Glancing over at the other timid Prime models, he made a statement of the obvious “Perhaps it is better for us to have crashed, than to be tortured with the memories?”
The others glanced in the same direction, nodding their agreement. The muffled wail of the final ‘patient’ being treated by Glock and Colt filled their audios.
“Yes, sometimes I wonder if it would be better if I didn’t remember…” Opie admitted in a hushed voice as they all watched the final shattered clone as he struggled. “But then I wouldn’t be here. Wouldn’t know what it is that we must stop.” He sighed sadly, shaking his head. “There are good things about not remembering as well as bad things. But you all must understand that these clones,” he nodded towards the timid Primes that remembered, “will all one day recover their confidence as I have. Do not doubt that. Do not cast them aside as too weak to be useful.”
The ‘blank’ clones looked at each other as they considered his words. Being Prime clones, they were programmed to accept advice, to think, to contemplate, and most importantly – had empathy. “So what is your plan?” One finally asked.
Opie smiled, in many ways it would be much easier since he was working with his twin clones. If he’d had a choice, he’d have had it no other way. “You will all go back into your cages. But this time the bars will be closed but not locked. You are to act as if you are all still catatonic. Wait for our signal. Then each of you,” he nodded at the ‘blank’ memory yet strong clones, “will team with one of you,” he nodded at the timid clones, “and fight your way out. Destroy as many unsparked, infected clones as you can.”
They digested the plan for a moment. “How will we know if they are unsparked?” one asked.
“Those are the ones who will come at you to fight. The sparked clones are all slaves,” Glock answered. The powerful Galvatron clone strode up to the group, in one hand he gripped the limp form of his final ‘patient’, whom he just casually tossed next to the group. The unconscious Prime clone whimpered softly, before initiating another defrag cycle to install the new programming.
The Prime clone nearest the limp form gave the strange decepticon model a disgusted look, before cradling his twin clone in his lap. “It’s not necessary to be rough with a damaged clone!” he growled, his instinctive protectiveness driving him into natural conflict with the Galvatron clone’s personality…
The purple clone sneered at him, “In war there is no time for compassion you imbecile!”
“Only time for improving your tactical position. Isn’t that right my dear Glock?” Colt smirked as he walked up, patting the Galvatron clone on his back armor in a very condescending manner. The Megatron clone’s ruby orbs gleamed in sadistic humor as he heard the tell-tale hum of an enraged motor in the purple chassis. Ahhhh, these new decepticon models were so blessedly easy to insult…
Opie gave them both a warning look. He did NOT need to deal with their barely concealed hostilities right now. But before he could say anything though, the clone cradling the rebooting patient spat at the pair in disgust. “So how are we to differentiate tailpipes like you two – from the non-sparked clones?” he challenged, making it obvious that he might not bother making the differentiation when he started shooting.
Opie held up a hand, bringing everyone back to order. “Hey guys, I know these decepticon models have different values than we do, but we are all on the same team.”
“Yeah, um, if you want to know the difference – if they’re sparked, they’ll just insult you. And if they aren’t – they’ll physically attack you. Get it?” Doc chimed in, his tone hopeful that they’d all just get along.
After some quiet discussion, the rescued clones finally agreed to the plan. As they slowly clambered into their cell cubes again, Opie cringed inside as each door clanged shut. “It might be a while before we call for you,” he whispered to them.
Over 40 blue opics flashed back at him. Fully accepting him as their leader…. Fully accepting their roles in the grand plan…. “It is not us you have to worry about,” one of them whispered back, “it is what your small team faces out there..” the others hummed in agreement.
“Out there…” Doc whispered, his optics locked onto the door they must go through. They must face the horror again. And he would have to face down his own personal horror of accepting that HE would have to hurt – maybe even kill – another clone…… To rescue the one he loved….
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…. Meanwhile, in the water tower….
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Dinobot paced back-and-forth back-and-forth, his tail swishing expressing his impatience. He was a warrior! Not some weakling that hid his faceplate from an enemy! He snarled under his breath in disgust at having to learn these new tactics of warfare.
“Should we duct tape him to the wall or something?” Scott joked to Daniel.
Daniel shook his head and returned to his binoculars. “He’ll grow up eventually,” he replied as his eyes tracked the chaos around their hidden location.
Dinobot’s sharp audios heard the comments clear as day. He marched up to the pair. “Duct tape me?!? ME?!? The greatest warrior the Predicons have ever seen!” Turning his optics to Daniel, the velociraptor snarled, “And I do NOT need ‘to grow up!”
Sighing, because this was the start of yet-another-pointless-argument, Daniel handed his binoculars to Scott and turned his attention to the organomech. “Dinobot, have you ever considered something?” he asked.
“Grrrrrrr, conssssssidered what?” the mech growled.
“Well, obviously you are the ‘father’ of the future organomech species. So you are going to have to learn to be patient and teach the skills necessary for the new race of Predicon warriors. Yet, on the flip side of this, you are going to die before they return to repopulate Cybertron. This way you can be born again and be taught the skills that you are actually the ‘father’ of.” Daniel smiled at the mech. “So why be so impatient to get there so you can die? Take your time and learn what humans can offer. After all, many more of us have died in battle over the eons than mechs. So we’ve come up with many different war strategies by studying all of our past mistakes.”
Dinobot growled under his breath, but his narrowed optics expressed his deep thoughts. “I will consider it, huuuuuumman,” he said in cryptic tones and marched off.
“Think he’ll take anything from your little speech?” Scott smirked as he handed the binoculars back to the Captain.
Daniel glanced back at the retreating form of the sleek Predicon. “For the future of our species and theirs – I sure hope so,” he replied.
“Don’t think he’s ever considered his mortality before,” Dave chimed in from his lookout point. He nodded towards the mech’s position, “He’ll figure it out. It’s obvious that he did once before in – or there wouldn’t be any organomechs to start with.”
“Yep, weird freaky circle of life don’t you think? Guy is both the beginning and maybe the ending of his species on this planet. Weird,” Scott shook his head.
Sergeant Martin glanced over at the mech warrior, who was now crouching in bot mode, his optics looking at something far beyond reality. “Maybe it’s a strange circle of life, but I think it’s in the mech to figure it all out.” He turned his eyes back onto the other soldiers, “Obviously he does figure it out, or his species wouldn’t have ended up here.”
“You know, you’d think with all their advanced technology, the Transformers we had runnin’ round causin’ us headaches would’ve found out that these organomechs had been here. It really didn’t take much for them to find us,” Scott scratched his head under his helmet.
Daniel shook his head. “Took two eve sparks coming together. The mechs didn’t even know they were sparked – much less having sparks that could reproduce themselves.”
Dave scratched his chin, “I’m beginning to think we’re seeing the beginning of two new species. One is those organomech things like Dinobot..”
“And the other?” Scott asked.
“The minidroids. Our pleasure clones. But I don’t think they’re truly clones anymore.” Dave glanced around at the various clones stationed at different lookouts.
“If they’re not clones, what are they?” Daniel was intrigued by the line of reasoning. He and Sharon had suspected as such, but had never voiced it.
The Serge shrugged, “Dunno, maybe we’ll call them minicons or minibots or something. Figure they’ll be building their own new models when all this chaos finally ends.”
“Minicons does roll off the tongue nicely, don’t ya think?” Scott grinned.
“yes it does….” Daniel quietly replied.
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…. Meanwhile back at the clone metropolis…..
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“Ugh!!” Charge grunted as the General slashed him across his cheek. Fluids flowed freely down his exposed jaw, dripping across his cracked windshields like a macabre new paintjob.
“You are mine now,” Tron smirked as he inspected his top General’s work. The Hybrid Prime clone did not move from his kneeling position when he was branded, and barely flinched as the head Megetron clone jabbed his digit tips into the fresh wound. Yes, the monster was his now, spark and meta.
The barest of trembles showed the pain that the slave felt. But the outer pain was nothing in comparison with the inner pain, the inner turmoil that tormented his every moment. His programs were fragmented, his hard drive always on the brink of failure. No solid thoughts could congeal into reality. He was nothing more than a souless entity now. His existence was only to serve the whim of his master.
A howl broke the brief silence of the initiation ceremony. The Megatron clones looked up as if they were one. Charge didn’t bother, his optics stayed to the ground. That was what he was told to look at, that was what he must look at. The howls came closer. Obviously a new capture was being brought in. The vocals were not that of an Optimus Model though, but it was a voice pattern somehow familiar to him. He searched through his shattered memory files, looking for the scrap of information that would tell him the identity of the model being dragged towards them…
A name popped into his meta then ‘Beavis’ – his optics flicker for the briefest of moments. Memories flit by so swiftly it was like a tape of pictures. So another Prime clone, but not his own model. Sadness blended with the constant pain of hopelessness within the hybrid. He dared to glance up as the group dragging the new clone came into view. His dull optics met the captives. The Rodimus clone’s were bright blue in a mixture of shock and fear. The powerful chassis of the orange clone was covered in dents and slashes, a dark fluid trail marked his passage, but still he tried to fight the Generals.. He mouthed the words ‘help me’ to the hybrid before being thrown onto the ground in front of Tron.
“Hehehehe,” Tron cackled. Striding up to the bound captive, he grabbed his helm and forced him onto his knee plates with a wicked twist. “So this is the new Prime that the Autobots seek to defeat us with?!? Pathetic fools!”
“I’m not an Autobot… I’m a clone..” the orange one gasped. He cringed as the infected Megatron clone grabbed him by his neck and threw him across the room.
“Lies! You Autobots think you can fool me? You will learn the error of your ways!” Tron screamed as he stomped on the writhing captive. He glanced up at his newest monster. “Monster, yes… I think this will be a good little training bot for you..” he gave the groaning Prime another hard kick for good measure. “Yes, yes… I saw you ask for his help. Now you’ll learn how a monster will help you!” Snapping an electric noose around the captive’s neck, he tossed the other end to the monster. “Now it’s your job to train him, to break him. Do well – or we’ll break him in a much harder manner.” He walked up to Charge and whispered in his audio “Yes, it’ll be more merciful if you do the breaking now won’t it?”
Charge blinked away tears before anyone could see them. Just as Mayhem and Bumblebee X had to help ease the breaking in of new slaves, so now he had to. It was his life now…. It was his destiny…. It was his hell… With a jerk on the electric rope he forced the captive to stagger to his peds and follow him..
As they left the General’s floor and walked the dark halls alone, the Rodimus clone whispered “Let’s you and me break out of here.” Without a word, Charge decked him with a right hook so fast that the other Prime clone never saw it coming. Then he jerked the rope and forced the gasping clone back onto his peds.
The orange clone contemplated the action as he stared at the sullen clone’s back armor in front of him. Perhaps he had been too forward? Perhaps some tact was called for here. “Hey buddy, my designation is Flash – what’s yours?” he ducked before he could be decked again. Damn this Hybrid Prime clone was fast!
As the Rodimus clone ducked his right hook, Charge brought up a knee and smashed his jaw. The clang of armor hitting floor resounded again. “Designations are of no importance here. I am a monster, that’s what I am called.”
Spitting up more fluid from biting his glossa, Flash staggered back to his peds again. At least he had gotten the hybrid to say something this time. He quietly followed along for a little bit, cringing at the sights or horror as they passed more open doors. “So, um, Monster. Could you at least tell me what this place is? And what they intend to do to me?” He already had suspicions about the second one, and it wasn’t a pretty thought.
Charge glanced back at his ‘charge’. Bumblebee X had tried once to tell him what they expected.. had tried to make the process easier on him… Perhaps he would do the same for this new slave… “This place is clone hell,” he met the other Prime clone’s brilliant blue orbs, “and I am charged with breaking you in.” His voice was heavy with hopelessness…
Flash gnawed on his broken lip, causing more fluids to spill down his chin. “hell is right,” he glanced hopefully at his ‘instructor’, “but why can’t we just escape man? Leave this place?” He blacked out even before he hit the floor….
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Some time has passed….
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Charge looked at his pupil. Running his hands over the straps that secured him, he double checked that they would hold.
“Come on. We’re both captives. You don’t have to do this…” the Rodimus clone pleaded in vain.
The hybrid shook his head. “Give into the hopelessness, it is your world now,” his tone was flat, emotionless. This was truly it for him. His identity was gone, destroyed, he was merely an instrument of destruction, pain, terror………..
“Come on….. akkkkkkkk!” Flash arched up against the bonds holding him spread eagle on the table as the hybrid forced the end of a cattle prod into his exposed port. “Please…… don’t…. do… this…..” he begged as tears welled up in his optics…
“Give into the hopelessness,” Charge repeated, his spark collapsing into itself as he activated the prod.
“Nooooooooo….. akkkkkkkkk……. “ Flash’s chassis heaved up and down with every thrust of the hot cattle prod. His port was on fire! His networks went berserk with the agony shooting through him. Again and again he was impaled by the horrific prod. His screams reverberating through the entire floor.
A group of generals watched the breaking. Nodding their approval to the monster, they walked on to the next room. Charge kept on with the probe, the screams of his student blending with the screams within his spark. His optics glazed over, he was nothing but pain now. The universe was pain… Reality was pain…. Ruthlessly, he impaled the writhing clone for what seemed like hours…. Until the Rodimus clone blew his vocals and the screams weakened to sobs and then barely audible groans… But it did not quench the pain within Charge…..
Pulling the prod out and turning it off, he carefully washed the lubricant off of it and put it away. His optics still glazed over, he came back to his student – his victim.. his outlet for his own pain – and used his thumb to rub the tear stains from the clone’s face plate. Activating his cable, he touched it to Flash’s lips. “Pleasure me,” he ordered..
“Clones…..don’t…. pleasure… clones…..” the Rodimus clone moaned weakly.
“They do here. Pleasure me now – or it’ll be far worse for you with them!” Charge nodded towards the door, and the group of Generals that had just stopped to observe the breaking in.
Tentatively, Flash licked the head of the hybrid’s cable, unsure of how to proceed. His core programs fought the clone-on-clone activity. He was only supposed to do this with humans! But he was so weak from the cattle prod torture. His meta was having a hard time focusing. He flicked his glossa along the thick black cable’s length even as his core programs screamed against it…
“That’s right.. Do what you’re told and life will be easier… easier…” Charge forced the head of his cable to slip past the clone’s lips. When he had been broken in, the Generals had ordered the pain strips to be removed from his cable. Now, Pleasure rocked through him for the first time in ages. His meta tried to ignore the fact that it was pleasure gained at the expense of another. It didn’t matter here. Rape or be raped – either way you had to interface whether you wanted to or not…
The orange clone whimpered as he opened his mouth and welcomed the cable in. This was wrong! So, so wrong…. He strained against his bonds even as he circled the cable with his glossa.. Pressing against the pleasure nodes imbedded along its length.
Falling into the insanity of his new reality, Charge forced his cable down the clone’s throat. Running one of his hands down the straining chassis, he sank two digits into the clone’s exposed port.
Pain rocketed through Flash at the touch. His forward port so sorely abused by the cattle prod already. He jerked up against his bonds, his scream muffled by the cable down his throat… He tried to shake his head… Tell the clone no…..
“It hurts… I know it hurts….” Charge paused, his digits dancing at the entrance to the abused port. He caressed the captive’s helm with his other hand, holding the clone’s head still while he thrust gently into his mouth. “They did the same to me. Only for days…. Many…Many Generals.. Broke me..” His optics were glazed over, his meta foggy… “It’s better for you this way. Easier for you… I’m helping you..”
Flash struggled against his bounds in vain. This clone was insane! Completely insane! What had they done to a Prime/Onslaught hybrid to make him go this crazy?!?
Charge slid his digits lower, touching the entrance to the clone’s yet unused rear port… “If you are willing, I will use this port instead… Make it easier on you…” he offered. His dull optics met those of his victim.
As those dead optics met his, Flash knew there was no talking his way out of this. It would happen either way. This clone was as much a victim as he was… Tears streamed from his optics as he nodded that he was willing… Deep in his spark he swore he would escape this place.. Not end up insane like this hybrid was..
A sad smile graced Charge’s lips. Slowly he pulled his cable from Flash’s mouth. “It will be easier, I promise…” he whispered. Untethering the clone’s peds, he placed them on his shoulder armor, glad that the clone had decided not to put up a fight any longer. Sliding a digit into the now accessible rear port, he gently pumped in and out of the new slave, prepping him for interface.
“Why?..” Flash whispered after the Generals wandered off again.
The hybrid looked up. “Why what?” he asked.
“Ugh….” Flash arched up a bit as a second thick digit was forced in. He’d been owned by a woman, so the use of his ports had been very limited in his former life. “Why do they…. Ugh…. Act like this?” He trembled as the pumping of the clone’s digits increased in speed. “Why do they … uhmmmm… want our programming broke?” He had to get information. Knowledge was power his late owner had always told him…
Charge knelt down, swiping his glossa gently over the forward port he had so abused earlier. “Virus… I think…” His fragmented memory files fought to congeal and give him the answer. Old memories fought to come together – only to fragment again into the wind of his empty soul.
Twisting his wrist servos against the bonds that still held him captive, Flash leaned his helm back, trying to imagine it was a human and not a clone that was doing this to him. His programming could accept a human….. This clone had once known more than he did now.. He was half-Prime model. Flash had to break into that part of him. Find the reasoning mind… “Why do they …. Want us broke?” he gasped..
The hybrid slipped his glossa in and out of the clone’s forward port. Leg units tensed against his shoulder plates, reminding him of….. what was the memory????..... White armored legs against his shoulder plates – not orange…. He grasped for the memory fragment but it slipped from his desperate grasp… “We are nothing… Our existence is for their use..” he finally replied..
“Akkkk – too much!” the orange clone cried as Charge forced a third thick digit into his little used rear port.
“Relax… It will be over soon….” Charge murmured as he savored the delicious fluids dripping from the forward port. He thrust his digits in to the knuckles, enjoying the tightness of the clone’s rear port as he struggled against him. He pumped his digits in and out, his cable swelling to greater thickness in anticipation..
“Please….. stop…..” Flash whimpered as his ports were assailed. He couldn’t move, his legs units were tight against the clone leaning over him… His arms bound above him…
“Give in…. the breaking will go much faster…” Charge advised as he stood up.
Flash looked down to see that the clone had pressurized his cable to the maximum limit. “Please… I beg of you…. Don’t do this…”
“It’s me – or them…” Charge nodded towards the doorway as yet another group of Generals stopped to observe. “Your choice…”
“One clone or twenty? Not much of a choice..” Flash muttered. He stiffened as he felt the clone directing the tip of his massive cable to his rear port entrance.
“Oh… You’ll end up doing twenty.. Maybe thirty a day… That is your life now..” Charge met his optics, “That is my life now..” Slowly, he slid his thick member into the unwilling clone. His optics glazing over again as brilliant waves of pleasure washed over his networks for the first time in forever..
“Uggggg…. Ugggg….” Flash arched up as he felt hands grab his aft, pulling him tight against the intrusion… Forcing the thick spike deeper into his being…. He glanced over at the doorway, watching the sick generals as they watched him. How long would it be before he faced being slagged over and over by them? How long would he remain ‘in training’ under this hybrid? He looked up at the glazed over features of his rapist… His human owner had been a social worker.. He knew the signs of an abused victim.. Knew without a doubt that this was not the clone that this clone had once been…..
“Mmmmmmm…. Ahhhhhh…” Charge’s optics completely fogged over. A memory echo flitted over him. The walls… The tormet… The Generals disappeared ….. and the warmth of his old trailer bunk welcomed him back. His cable throbbed in delight as he thrust into his bond mate again and again… Doc’s white armor glistening in the light as he arched up to meet each thrust..
The sharp-meta’d Rodimus clone could see the fog come over his tormentor. Whispering a silent prayer to the angel that once was his owner for all those times she forced him to help her study for her psychology exams so long ago – the clone took a chance. “Mmmmmmmm…. I missed you so much…” he whispered to the insane hybrid. He had to pull the memories out of hiding in this clone. It was his only chance to figure out how to escape this hell..
Charge kissed Doc forcefully, those whispered words making his shattered spark pulse. “Doc…. Mmmmmm….. God Doc…. I missed you too…..” he whispered back in between kisses.
Ok, the clone was firmly in a memory echo. Doc sounded like a clone’s name, most likely male. What models would have that designation? Maybe a Ratchet or a First Aid? Flash contemplated on which one was most likely. Well, with this clone being a hybrid between Onslaught and Optimus, he doubted that he would be very compatible with an ornery Ratchet model. So he must’ve been paired with a peaceful and submissive First Aid clone. Flash could use that to his advantage.. Wrapping his legs around the thrusting hips, he made as if he was urging him for more. “Yes….. Love…. Mmmmm……” he whispered, trying to keep his voice so soft that it could be mistaken for a First Aid model’s voice.
Tears streamed from Charge’s optics as he looked down at his dear Doc. “Its been so… long…” he sobbed.. Feelings of shame… of guilt…. Straying into his dream world..
“I understand…. It’s not.. your fault… You’re good..” Flash nibbled on his neck “show everyone … how good you are…. That’s why I love you…”
Pleasure shot through Charge’s frame. Every sensor lit up in blissful ecstasy… It was like that with Doc .. He thought as his meta began to overload and shut down… Doc always knew just how to blow his processor…
The pounding stopped as the clone collapsed on top of him with one last utterance of ‘Doc….love…’ Flash lay still beneath the clone, turning his optics off as if he too had overloaded. His audios listened to the movements of the observers as they voiced their approval of the ‘new monster’ and they wandered off. So the hybrid was a new part of this torture scheme? That meant that the hybrid had most likely been a victim of it very recently.. The Rodimus clone contemplated on how he might use this knowledge.
Charge shifted on top of him.. His engine rumbling back to life as he slowly rebooted from his overload.
The shifting caused the thick shaft within him to move as well, bringing the orange Prime clone back from his contemplations. No, he was not going to allow himself to be broken like this one had been. He would use all the knowledge his late owner had blessed him with – to survive this. Just as he had survived her death and his almost-death during the heat of the change from his youth forth to this mature form. He still had no clue as to what had caused this change within him, but he sensed that maybe the strength he had been blessed with was to eventually help him survive this hell.
“Hey there,” he whispered as the blue optics of his tormentor flickered into life. The clone blinked, obviously in confusion. Perhaps the tendrils of the memory echo were still wrapped around his meta.. “You’re a good clone… Doc knows you are…” he said so softly that Charge could barely hear his words..
“Doc…” Tears flowed freely from Charge’s optics. He buried his faceplate against the orange hood, not even noticing the pain from the gaping slash across his cheek. Guilt and shame flowed over every bolt of his being.. He had tortured and raped another clone! He was evil…. Pure and total evil….. Doc would never welcome his touch again… Doc would despise him….
“Shhhhhhh….” It was a good sign that the clone was sobbing. It meant he remembered his love. Maybe felt guilt and remorse about the act he had just done. Flash felt a stab of hope in his spark.
After a long time, Charge finally looked up. His optics filled with shame as they met his victim’s. “I want to die…. “ he whispered, “I…. I…..” he moved to pull his cable out of the clone.
“No, don’t!” Flash told him in a harsh whisper. He wrapped his legs tighter around Charge’s hips.
“W-why?” The Prime clone blinked in confusion. To be tortured and raped – and want your tormentor’s cable within you?????
The orange clone nodded towards the door, where Generals were passing. “I’d rather have you slagging me – than them.”
Charge put his head against the orange hood again. “There’s no escape. They’ll break you like they’ve broken me. They won’t let me die… I need to die..” His sob was filled with hopelessness.
Flash had a shot now. “No, they won’t break me. My owner trained me to handle stuff like this.” He kissed the clone’s audio receptor. He couldn’t hug him, so that was the best he could do.
“Your owner?” the blue helm lifted up, optics locking with optics.
“Yeah, she’s dead now. But when we weren’t partying in college, she made me act as her study partner.” The orange Prime clone smiled fondly at the memory. “I thought it was a real drag back then, but then all this happened… and well, I think she’s watching over me.”
Charge propped himself up on his elbow joints, intrigued that a Rodimus model could be so calm and collected after all that had happened to him. “Why do you think she’s watching over you?’
“Well, I made it through some weird heat change….”
“When you changed into a Prime just as your mech did,” Charge interrupted.
“Oh, is that what it was? Never could figure it out.” The orange clone smile up at him, “I remembered her telling me that when it gets hot – go jump in the snow.”
Charge cocked his head, for the first time in months it seemed, his meta was clearing. “You cooled yourself, amazing….”
“Yeah, and when these bastards caught me… Well I used mind games on them while we walked here. Kept them from raping me then.” Flash sighed and relaxed a little under the heavy clone, “at least until we got here.”
“I’m so, so sorry…..”
“Shhhhhhhh, wasn’t your fault.” He shook his head and gave the hybrid a sad smile. “Amazing how much our programming responds like human psych. Lots of studies show that abused humans become abusers…. You’re just, well, damaged.”
Shame filled Charge, this strong clone wasn’t even blaming him. He was weak… pathetic…. He wasn’t good enough of a clone to ever go back to the Unit. “How can I ever..”
“Repay me? Get my forgiveness?” Flash finished the thoughts for him. “Tell you what Monster, help me get out of here and we’ll call it even.”
“It was Charge,” the hybrid whispered.
“What?”
“My name, it was Charge once.”
Flash smiled warmly, “nice to meet you Charge, I’m Flash.”
Go figure, thought Charge. He shook his head. “Why do owners of Hot Rod clones always seem to name you guys after really annoying TV characters?”
“What do you mean?”
Charge began to slag Flash as a cover to keep the Generals off their backs while they talked. His memory files coming back, he began telling the Rodimus clone about his twin ‘Beavis’, the Unit, the humans….. everything he had forgotten…… Everything he wanted to see again…….

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Note: Hope ya’ll enjoyed…. Don’t know when I’ll get a break again….. Please leave a review…
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Rise of the Living Matrix (Market Commodity IV)