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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
- 7
- 8
- 9
**Age of the Machine part 8**

Opie trembled as the memory echo washed over him. He was trapped, helpless… All he wanted was to please them… Make them like him. But red optics glared daggers through his dented armor. Voices raised in harsh criticism as he was kicked, hit and berated for being who he was.

He crawled towards the Starscream clone. Crawling back even though he’d just been kicked away by that very clone… His whispers of apology unheard above the roar of angry Decepticon clones around him…

Reaching out his hand.. His digits outstretched to touch that beautiful thruster…

Suddenly, he was pulled into arms. Those strong arms surrounded him, protecting him from the rage all around them. Blinking through tears of wonderment and gratitude, Opie dared to look up and meet those optics..

The glistening rubies were not there!

Instead, calm blue spheres as big as the very sky met his… Calming words in a voice that was not Starscream’s filled his audios..

Jag waited patiently as the fog cleared from the Prime clone’s optics. He continued to rub his back armor with soft strokes as he whispered to him that he was safe. That HE was here. That nothing would get past a Prowl clone… Nothing would hurt his charge… His optics drifted to Scream’s still form as he comforted the young Prime. A flash of those early memories of doing this very thing for the fech…

“J… Jag?” Opie gasped in a voice still filled with fright. He clutched the clone’s doorwings tightly as he pressed against him. His battle processor still fully online… Still ready for the pain his memory echoes had led him to expect.

“Shhhhhhhhh, you’re safe. I’m here. I’ll always be here,” Jag murmured. The clone he held was too hot. He was close to overheating. Jag needed to calm him down fast, get his rpms down before he blew his block.

Whimpering, Opie curled up like a small child against him, tears flowing heavily down his cheek plates. A heavy feeling of total shame washed over him. He was so weak… So freagin’ weak! “I… I’m sorry I, uh, woke you,” he stammered in between his sniffs.

Shifting so that he could get a hand under the youngster’s chin, Jag forced him to meet his optics. Gently, he wiped the tears from his face plate. “It’s nothing Opie. You can’t help it.” He nodded towards Scream’s defragging form. “HE can’t help it.”

“I.. uh… but..” Opie’s face plate heated up in embarrassment even as his battle processor finally deactivated, allowing his engine to slow to a more normal rhythm. He was an Optimus model! He should be the strong one. HE should be the one to hold others while they cried. But here he was… So pathetic that his lover’s former bondmate had to comfort him!

Quickly noticing the eerily familiar expression cross Opie’s face plate - Jag shook him a little in order to knock him out of it. “Quit that Opie – that’s an order.”

Sniffing a few more times, the young Prime clone bit his lower lip and tried his best to appear strong – like he should be. Granted, he wasn’t – and they both knew that.

Jag reached out and caressed the clone’s thin audio receptors. Lord knows, he’d watched Doc doing that to Charge enough to more than know that it must have some sort of calming effect on a Prime model. “It’s going to take you years to become emotionally strong again Opie. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Warm waves of comforting stimuli washed over Opie’s neural nets from those gentle digits stroking his audio receptors. This initiated a cascade of automatic program commands to flow through his unconscious processing. The outward effect was almost immediate though – he calmed down and was able to think past his emotionally tainted thoughts. “Thanks sir,” he whispered as his expression brightened.

Logging the fact that the calming effect was almost instantaneous, Jag returned his smile. “That’s my job Opie. For him,” he pointedly glanced next to them before turning his optics back onto the recruit, “and now you too.”

“I want to be strong – like you.” Opie scanned his optics, hoping that the older clone would tell him the secret to being so strong. He wanted to know it! He needed to know it!

“One day you will be.” Jag tapped the end of Opie’s olfactory sensor with the tip of a digit while he said that. It was still odd to be around a Prime model who kept his face plate bared. Just didn’t seem right… “But right now, concentrate on what you’re good at. You’re good at keeping the medics organized. Good with the patients. Build off that foundation. One day you’ll wake up and realize you’ve become strong without meaning to.”

“But I want to be a hero - like Charge.” Opie had a rather sheepish look as he met Jag’s optics. He’d never dared to tell anyone how he felt about the other Optimus clone. Never dared to admit how much he actually idolized the perfect Prime model – even as he had been sneaking around with the fech behind Charge’s tail pipes.

The Prowl clone sighed sadly and patted the recruit. The youngster was so full of contradictions. He idolized the very clone from whom he was stealing a mate from! Charge would be rather shocked when he heard this one; Not that he wasn’t most likely still in some shock that not only Jag - but Opie as well – were all after Scream in some way. Poor Optimus clone, one had to feel a bit sorry for him at times. “Don’t worry Opie. One day you will be,” he replied in a soothing tone.

“You think so? Really?” Hope blazed in Opie’s optics at the thought that the strong officer really thought he’d one day become a hero.

“If I didn’t believe you could – I would’ve just kicked you out of Scream’s life – don’t you think? He doesn’t need a permanent hanger-on for a mate. He needs someone that he will be able to count on.” Jag’s optics were cold as steel as he pointed that out.

“Yeah, guess so.” Opie couldn’t help but to look down in shame. He did owe Jag big time for keeping this whole thing secret. The officer would’ve been well in his rights to have exposed them and had Opie rather publicly forced out of Scream’s arms.

Again, Jag forced him to meet his optics. “And I don’t need a permanent hangar-on either. You WILL learn to stand strong by my side. Understand?” His voice was firm, but not harsh.

Swallowing hard, Opie nodded. It was obvious now – the Prowl clone was going to take back his mate. He was merely going to allow Opie to be part of the relationship out of the goodness of his spark. But that opportunity came with strings attached. “I… I’ll give it my best sir.”

“Good.” Jag’s optics softened a little, and a slight smile graced his lips. “And I’ll give it my best – to learn to love you as I love him.”

“Ditto sir,” Opie gave him a timid smile. If they were going to try to both be mates to Scream – they HAD to learn to love each other as deeply. It would be the only way that the family unit would work.

Setting his helm on his hand, the older clone gave him a warm smile and a nod. He shifted so that he now lay on his side. This position made the attractive Prowl model – just gorgeous – though he didn’t quite realize it. Or even care for that matter. Looking good just wasn’t a top priority to the workaholic. “Why don’t you teach me how to use those toys? I haven’t exactly been the experimentalist - until recently.” Cocking his helm, the Prowl clone got a rather strange expression on his face plate. It was half-way between trepidation and excitement, as if the clone really couldn’t decide if he really wanted to learn but knew that he needed to.

“Oh, uh, sure thing!” Opie relaxed a bit now. If there was one thing he’d learned really well these last few months of forced abstinence – it was Scream’s ‘toy’ fetish. He now had a whole collection of his own stashed in his subspace. Made for some nice release when a clone couldn’t actually slag another clone! “What do you feel like trying?”

“What’s the best in your opinion?” Jag enjoyed seeing the youngster finally relax around him. Now it was the time to let him have a taste of ‘leadership’ in a sense. He’d slowly build his confidence up from there.

“Well, uh…” Opie thought long and hard. Scream had just given him some new toys that he hadn’t tried just yet. They did look fun though. But did he dare try something new with the officer he so wanted to like him? No, he wasn’t ready for that yet. He’d try something a bit on the safer side. Reaching into his subspace, he pulled out one of the rings that went with the egg vibrator that Jag already had ‘installed’ inside him.

“What’s that do?” the Prowl clone asked with an arched optic ridge. He couldn’t fathom what a ring had to do with pleasure.

“Uh, maybe I should show you?” A blush of heat flowed over his face plate as Opie dared to activate his own cable. With a swish and a hiss, it rolled out from its protective hatch and pressurized.

Curiously, Jag looked down at the youngster’s taunt jack. He couldn’t help but to be a tad impressed at the size Opie had chosen to pressurize to. It was then that he noticed the ring installed right at the base of the cable. “So that’s how you to have been keeping each other busy – without breaking the rule?”

“Yes sir.” A shiver went through the young clone as the officer’s digits touched the ring at the base of his cable. It had been months since someone besides himself had been this close to his cable. He knew Jag was just studying how the ring stayed put. That Jag wasn’t really into him like that – yet. But it was almost an instinctive reaction for a clone to long for more attention once they’d been touched there.

“It doesn’t bother you to leave it on all the time?” It seemed to Jag that it was too tight against the rubber skin of the shaft. Seemed like it would cause chaffing over the long run…

Opie felt like his optics were going to roll up into his cranial unit. It felt so GOOD to have another’s touch there. His systems began to hum as his interface systems fully activated. “N – No.. It doesn’t chafe or anything.. S-sir.”

This clone was as quick to react as Scream was, Jag silently noted. No wonder they’d made a good pairing – at least in THAT department. Well, at least when the relationship was finalized after the birth – he wouldn’t have to worry about either one straying far. As long as he made sure to schedule their down times together. If nothing else, they’d make each other too sore from constant slagging – to slag elsewhere. It would make life a bit easier for Jag though. Scream wouldn’t pester him for interface while he was working – if Opie was eagerly waiting in the bunk. “So, what do you two do with these rings?”

“Uh, well, they’ve got remotes. And we just, uh, give each other our remote and just kiss while we overload.” Opie shifted under the cop’s digits. His ports were filling with lube, his cable aching for more attention…

Removing his hand, Jag gave the youngster a curt nod. “I’m proud of you two. You’ve found a way to stay within legality.”

“Uh, thank you sir.” Opie’s shoulders drooped a bit, even as he swelled up in pride at the compliment. His entire chassis was aching with need now. Jag just didn’t seem to understand that.

“So why don’t we try this little game?” Flipping over onto his door wings, Jag shot him a wink as he activated his own cable.

With hands shaking in nervousness, the Prime clone slowly worked the ring down the length of the officer’s shaft. His mouth watered as his digits slid over the warm rubber surface. He wanted desperately to give Jag pleasure. To make him really like him, and he only knew one way to do that. The way that Tron and his minions had driven with a sledgehammer into his meta. “Uh, sir, we also do one other thing.”

Jag was enjoying the light touch along his length. So timid, so tentative… “And that would be?”

“Well, um, I defrag better when I’ve got a cable in my mouth,” Opie admitted. Scream may be addicted to interface – Opie was addicted to waking up with a very happy clone looking down at him because he’d protected his shaft all night.

Exchanging remotes with the youngster, Jag gave him a curious look. “That’s bending the rule a little too much.”

“No, um, it’s not like that – I swear! The ring is what makes you overload. Um, not me giving you a BJ. I just, well, uh…” Opie didn’t know how to put it exactly.

“Does defragging like this – keep the memory echoes away? Is that what you mean?” If it wasn’t completely sexual in nature – then it wouldn’t truly be against the rules.

“Something like that. I used to do it for Starscream, and as long as I had his cable in my mouth – no one would dare to hurt me. Well, uh, except Megatron.”

“You mean Tron and Flashback,” Jag corrected. He knew that the former interface slaves had been somewhat meta-washed about the reality of them being clones – not real mechs. It was important that he remind Opie of the misconception.

“Yeah, those two. Sorry sir,” Opie stammered.

“Since you explained it in that context – I’ll allow it.” Not that Jag would actually mind having his cable swallowed by any means. But rules were rules…

The young Optimus clone beamed in happiness. Sliding down, he pulled the covers over him and snuggled between the officer’s legs. He was safe there… Protected.. With a happy sigh, he took the taunt cable in his mouth even as he deactivated his own. Licking it as he swallowed it, he finally laid his helm against his crossed hands on the officer’s pelvic plating.

Jag gasped as his cable disappeared into that wonderful mouth. With trembling digits, he punched in the codes to activate the toys installed in Opie’s systems. His own toys also beginning to vibrate at the same time… They moaned and trembled as one.. Their engines revving to higher rpms… Until finally they both went silent and their optics darkened…

------

His peds made light tap-taps on the ice covered pavement as he made his way to the mech sleeper trailer. He felt lighter than air! His entire life was perfect – just perfect! In fact, the Prime clone felt so good he actually started whistling…

Hoping up onto the ramp, he reached for the handbars and pulled himself up the rest of the way. With a last happy whistled tune, he popped the door open and skipped inside.

And stopped dead in his tracks, his optics wide in shock…. Charge carefully laid down the clone he had carried in, then turned around. His brilliant optics were cold, harsh, judging… Opie knew then that he knew. His idol knew of his deception! His knee joints felt weak suddenly.. Felt like they were shaking and going to give way..

“There are more being brought in,” Charge stated in an emotionless tone with a nod at the unrecognizable row of clones now lining the sides of the trailer. “We found them in a UPS trailer that a landslide had buried. They will be functional once you’ve cleaned them up and worked the corrosion from their servos.” His optics bore into the other Optimus clone. There was so much he wanted to say… To accuse… To threaten… But he’d given his word to Jag – and a Prime clone did not go back on his word. Well, at least every Prime clone BUT Opie that is…

Looking shamefully down at his peds, Opie nodded his understanding of the order. He was, after all, the junior repair bot in the medical unit. Dirty maintenance work like this was left to him while the full medics worked on damaged Unit members.

“How’re the orphans we rescued?” Clipper asked. He stomped in, a corroded clone thrown over his shoulder unit. Walking right past the recruit as if he wasn’t there, he set down his charge next in the row.

Moving his optics from the timid Optimus clone, Charge met his Apache leader’s gaze. “Doing well from what I hear. Scream reported that they had to take down a Bumblebee clone in order to rescue them.”

“Affirmative. He was approaching level 4 infection,” the Magnus-Vortex hybrid explained.

“Looks like we’ve got another Bumblebee from the recovered shipment, did you scavenge the off lined clone for parts?” Walking by the silent Opie, Charge pointed out a very filthy Bumblebee model slumped against the trailer’s side.

“No. We merely deactivated him. At the request of the orphans that he’d protected and scavenged for.” Kneeling down, Clipper touched the Bumblebee clone’s ped. The dark optics brightened slightly as the deactivated clone began reactivation sequences. He felt sorry for these clones who’d been trapped for the last year. It had just been by chance that he’d detected a weak spark signature on his sensors. “So which one is sparked? Most of these look factory.”

Charge nodded down the row, at another dark-optic’d and filthy clone. “The Megatron clone on the right.”

Opie tensed as his optics followed his idol’s. Sure enough, under all the grime and layers of acid-soaked ash – it was a Megatron clone. This one was painted up with insignias for some police department from a now-no more city. He relaxed a little bit. At least he could tell it wasn’t Tron.

Clipper cocked his head in curiosity. A Megatron clone with a spark? Very unusual indeed. They weren’t known for developing that kind of emotional connection with their humans. Walking over to the model, he tapped him with his ped. Causing the clone to begin to reactivate. “So, you got someone to love you like family? Must not be your typical Megs clone,” he mused.

The red optics brightened fully, and with shrill squeaks of resistant linkages, the Megatron clone straightened his head and met Clipper’s gaze. “Sergeant Glock, Liberty police department. Am I finally back at my station?” he stated in a tone that made it sound almost like an order.

Opie stepped back further at the sound of a Megatron clone’s voice. Shaking slightly, he pulled out some of his cleaning supplies and made his way to a deactivated Soundwave clone. Trying to ignore the presence of the Megatron clone, he began to start scrubbing at the mess….

Not noticing his counterpart’s reaction, Charge strolled up and stood next to Clipper. “Liberty township has been destroyed,” he informed the clone.

“Destroyed? Is America under attack?” His department had been trained to help Homeland security. Was his partner now working for them? He had to find his human partner!

“Well, in a sense. But it was a natural attack straight from mother earth herself,” Beachcomber’s voice answered. The mech drove in and parked in his normal defrag spot. He couldn’t transform to bot mode since there were so many clones in his trailer. But he didn’t mind. He enjoyed their company either way.

Glock turned his optics to the mech. Data banks identified the dune buggy as the Autobot mech designated as Beachcomber. “Natural attack?”

“Yeah, big super volcano blew over at Yellowstone. America is pretty much no more,” Clipper explained with a shrug.

“My owner is deceased?” The Megatron clone looked around him. All he saw was clones and mechs. Were the humans no more? What would he do? His programming required a human to call his own!

Charge knelt down and put an arm around those filthy shoulders. Strangely, a sense of rightness washed over him, as if the mech he was cloned from had always dreamed of doing this very thing. “That’s affirmative. I’m sorry.”

With much squeaking of corroded servos, Glock shook his head slowly in disbelief. “But I saved him! I blocked those rounds!” he whispered. The vision of the last time he’d seen his human partner flashed through his meta. The standoff with well-armed bankrobbers. The grenades being launched… His quick decision to throw himself in front of the human officers… To show them that he was worthy to lead the future clone unit that they were debating on purchasing… The explosion… Darkness…

“Well, that explains his spark,” Clipper noted.

“I’m sorry Glock, none of us could save those near the volcano. None of us,” Charge whispered in consolation as he pulled the corroded clone into his embrace.

“But we need human partners! We need to find humans!” Glock snarled. He felt lost… Empty…. He did not like this emotion! He needed to feel like he was in control. That he was in charge of the situation.

“Don’t worry Glock. We have quite a few humans in our unit,” Beachcomber comforted.

Glock tried to get out of the Prime clone’s arms. He did not like to look weak like this. But his servos were so full of corrosion from the mix of ash and acid he’d been in for the last year – that he was too locked up to move much. “I need a partner assigned – immediately!”

Charge chuckled and released the clone. Standing up, he gave him a nod. “Once you are all cleaned and lubed – we’ll introduce you to our human comrades. Perhaps one of the soldiers will ask you to join his family unit.”

“Soldiers? Family? What are you talking about? Is this a military unit?” Glock demanded to know.

“No, not entirely. We are led by men who were top special ops in the Marines and Navy. But clones are not owned here. We are equals with them. So we ask to become family when we want a human partner,” Charge explained with a smile.

Glock had heard of those two branches, so he was familiar. He wasn’t quite sure about this ‘family’ thing. All he cared about was that he was partnered with the top commander. That was where he was meant to be. At the top of the clone hierarchy! “Who is the human commander?” he asked.

“Daniel Trakersly,” Clipper replied. He gave the clone a curious look, for he swore he saw a look of determination flash across the clone’s face plate. “But he’s already permanently paired with a Dragstrip clone. So I wouldn’t go after him if I were you.”

A Dragstrip clone?!? Did they really think a Dragstrip clone could best him! And why in the hell was a Dragstrip clone leading the clones anyways??? “A Dragstrip clone has no business being in a leadership position like that,” he snorted.

A quiet snicker flitted by his audios, causing the Megatron clone to shift his optics onto the form of another Optimus clone. That clone was busily cleaning up one of the recovered clones. Anyways, why in the frag was a Prime clone lowering himself to nursing duty? The clone glanced over his shoulder armor and noticed his look. Straightening up, he quit snickering and went back to work.

The modified Optimus clone and Vortex hybrid standing in front of him, also chuckled.

“Hey Charge, guess I should quit listening to you and start asking our least favorite mechanic for orders,” Clipper joked in a light hearted tone.

“So YOU are the clone leader? But who is your human?” Glock demanded to know. He wasn’t highly surprised about a Prime in a leadership position. But that position only came with a human of high rank.

“I have no human. Don’t need one,” Charge replied. With a calm smile behind his mask, he nodded at the Megatron clone and left the trailer with Clipper in tow.

Glock fell silent as he watched the other Prime clone going about his menial task. So, in this new life he faced clones didn’t necessarily need humans. And obviously, their ranks did not depend on a human partner either. He filed those ideas back in his processor, determined to contemplate them further.

“Optimus model.”

The low words caused Opie to turn and meet fiery orbs. “Yes?”

Glock cringed a bit as he tried to sit up a little better. Every joint was so stiff that he could barely move! “Why are you performing such a menial task?”

Opie shrugged, “Cus its my job.”

“You are a Prime clone. You do not perform menial tasks such as this.” The Megatron clone arched up his optic ridges in emphasis – they were pretty much the only things he could move for emphasis…

“We all start out as recruits here. We earn our way up rank through hard work.” Done with his fifth clone, he turned the now cleaned and lubed one over and propped him back up in a sitting position. Opie decided he’d start working on the Megatron clone. The guy really didn’t seem mean like Tron had been. Ambitious yes – mean no. He could handle touching a Megatron clone who didn’t look or act like Tron.

“I’m a recruit – you’ve got to be kidding!” Glock snorted in contempt. HE was no such thing! He had been on the elite drug task force. He had two hundred arrests under his tail pipes! And that was in just the first month!

Opie gave him a soft smile. “We are all recruits here. No matter our pasts.”

Red optics flew open wide in outrage, but even as his mouth opened to protest – another outraged scream filled the trailer.

“Scream – no!” Opie yelled as the fech tried to go right over him in order to attack the helpless Megatron clone. The Prime clone fell flat on his face plate at first, but swiftly rolled, grabbing the enraged Seeker as he did so. Using his heavier weight to his advantage, he forced the Seeker away from his target.

They both leaped to their peds. Scream glaring daggers – and Opie bleeding from gouges in his armor. The Seeker was a fast one with those slim digits of his to be sure. And right now he didn’t care WHO he went through to get at the Megatron clone.

“Let me by!” the Seeker snarled, his optics alight with fury. All he saw was Tron. A clone he intended to rip apart piece-by-piece!

“He’s not Tron, Scream!” Opie held his hands out, ready to catch Scream again. It was good that he was prepared. Scream flew in with a blur of wings and slender legs. They tumbled to the trailer floor again, wrestling and rolling into Beachcomber’s side.

“Would you dudes just chill out? Opie’s right – this is one cool Megatron clone,” the geologist said.

His words fell onto deaf audios though. And Opie found himself fighting and wrestling for all he was worth against his rage-blinded lover. They rolled over-and-over. Crashing into other helpless new clones as they went… Dark optics brightened all around as the violence caused each and every one to fully reactivate.

Though he was the heavier and stronger clone, Opie was at a distinct disadvantage to the battle hardened Seeker. Scream was quick and agile, twisting out of his grasp with the litheness of a cat. His digits were more like claws, which he raked across the hapless Prime clone without regard.

“Scream – just chill out!” Opie grunted as he was once again grasping air and not a Seeker. Fortunately, he happened to still be between Scream and his intended target.

Growling, the Seeker leapt at him again, trying to slide past. This time, two clones stopped him. Snarling, he stepped back. “I’m your fucking Air commander – I ORDER YOU TO STEP ASIDE!”

Glancing next to him, Opie gave the Soundwave clone a thankful nod. Spreading his stance to a more stable square stance, he prepared for the next onslaught. He truly looked like a Prime clone should. Fluids dripping from heavy damage, yet still standing firm to protect the weak. He didn’t realize this though. All he was focused on was to protect his charge from his enraged lover. “He’s NOT Tron, Scream. He’s NOT the guilty one,” he continued to say. His voice was steady, his resolve firm.

He didn’t realize it, but the four other clones he’d finished cleaning and lubing, were now moving to stand behind him. Decepticon and Autobot clones joined together, supporting the one clone that they all recognized as a natural leader.

“So Scream, you gonna go through six clones in order to kick the ass of one innocent one?” a voice asked from the doorway.

Scream huffed a few more times, his rage still burning strongly – but his logic programs beginning to contain his battle processor’s violent urges.

“Well, just remember that if you do, you’ll face ME afterwards. And you know how I feel about clones who cause pointless damage,” another voice pointed out.

All seven clones who were now involved in the conflict looked over at the two medics leaning against the now-open door. The Ratchet clone who had spoken the last sentence, was holding one of his trademark wretches in a somewhat threatening manner.

The Wheeljack clone snickered, his optics bright in amusement at the entire situation. He elbowed his mate. “You know McCoy, I never thought I’d see the day when Opie actually stood up against one of our top fighters.” Walking forward, he ignored Scream and patted the Prime clone in approval. “Still got your aft kicked though. Maybe you need to get loaded with some self-defense soft ware before you take him on again?” he joked.

McCoy walked up and tapped the Seeker on the tip of his olfactory sensor with his wrench, causing the fech to back up a bit. “And I cannot believe that YOU got into it with Opie…” the lecture continued even as the Seeker retreated out the door, the medic hot on his thrusters…

“So, just what were you two fighting over?” Jinx asked with a wry grin.

Wiping some fluid away that was dripping down from his busted lower lip, Opie nodded for the other clones to move aside. He stood there as the Wheeljack clone knelt by the helpless Megatron clone.

“Well well well, got us a Meg clone now. So what’s your designation?” Jinx cocked his helm and gave the clone a wink.

“Glock,” he replied, his optics never wavering in their intensity. “So what was the Starscream clone’s problem?”

“There’s a particular Megatron clone that goes around and abuses the fire out of other clones. Scream happened to be his first victim,” Jinx explained with a shrug.

“My group of clones were the next set of victims,” Opie added in a quiet tone.

“You have no self-defense software?” Glock thought this was odd. But then again, most Autobot clones had been purchased for civilian tasks – unlike Decepticon clones.

Opie shook his head.

“And this Scream is now a seasoned fighter?” Anyone could tell that by the damage now on the superior Optimus clone’s chassis. If the Starscream clone hadn’t been so completely blinded by his rage – he’d had easily gotten through Opie.

This time both Jinx and Opie nodded.

Sometimes a well placed compliment would help one advance in rank even quicker than top performance would. And for Glock, rank was everything. “You performed incredibly well against hard odds,” he said in carefully measured words.

Jinx grinned and elbowed Opie as he stood up. “Hey kid, he’s giving you a compliment.”

Opie’s face plate heated up slightly. He’d never expected to hear a kind word from a Megatron clone of all clones. “Uh, thanks Glock.”

“Ok, excitement’s over. Hey, why don’t you all help Opie finish up on your buddies?” Jinx tossed them each some cleaning supplies and shoo’d them towards the other locked up clones.

“Our owners….” The Soundwave clone began.

“Are probably dead now,” Jinx answered with a shrug.

There was shocked silence at first. The salvaged clones all looking from one to another in total dismay and disbelief. They were all alone now.. All alone…

“Awe, don’t look so sad. We got some humans in the Unit who might be willing to adopt some hard workers,” the medical officer quipped.

“Adopt?” several of them asked in confusion.

Opie turned around, naturally commanding their attention. “It’s a long story guys, but basically we are considered sentient here. Equal to our human friends. We make our own decisions, follow our own choices. But we choose to work together. To keep the human species alive so that they can give us these,” he opened his chest panel, his strong spark swirling wildly about his core. “These are our sparks. Just like the mechs – we can have SPARKS!”

The Soundwave clone reached out with trembling digits, his optics asking Opie’s for permission. Once he got the nod, he dared to touch the raw life force. “We can have life,” he whispered in an awed tone.

After a little more discussion, the new clones were busily working on cleaning and lubing the others who had been trapped on that doomed truck. All of them hoping to work hard enough, that a human would find them worthy enough to adopt… To give them a spark like Opie’s…

------

“Can I help?” a young female voice asked Opie.

The Prime clone paused in his work on Glock’s very stiff right knee servo. Turning his helm, he met the human girl’s eyes. Just as every clone in the trailer did. He could see the others moving towards her, all the mobile clones desperate to try to get her attention. “No human her age – can adopt without a mature human’s permission,” he stated in a powerful tone. He shifted his optics to glance at them all, warning them to leave her alone. “So you all must wait until the older humans come.” Whispered gripes could be barely made out, but they all went back to their tasks.

“Hi, I’m Opie – you must be one of the orphans?” he said as he held out a hand for her to shake. The girl couldn’t be much more than thirteen years old. Her big eyes were red from crying.

“Yeah, guess so. I’m Andy,” she replied as she grasped his hand. The way the other clones in here had almost looked at her in a ‘hungry’ way – had really unnerved her.

“Don’t worry ‘bout them. They’re just all desperate to get a human to adopt them. They won’t bother you now,” he explained.

“Oh, ok.” She looked around, still a tad nervous. This whole Unit, this whole new life – was as terrifying as it was exciting. She was happy that she and the younger kids were now safe and protected by what seemed like dozens of dedicated and well-trained clones, and that they now had women like old Grammy to fuss over them and make sure they studied and ate well.

Yet she felt an emptiness within her. An emptiness because they had been forced to leave a certain cheerful yellow clone behind…. She understood why. But Sunny couldn’t help it that he was infected! Yet there was nothing that could be done for him. He was lost…. Sniffing again, she gave the Optimus clone a hopeful look. She wanted to do some kind of helpful work. Maybe it would help her get over her loss…

“So, are you pretty good at cleaning off grime?” Opie asked as he stood up.

“Yeah, think so.” Automatically, she grabbed his offered hand without thinking. It felt good to have someone else in charge now. She was tired of being in charge.

He led her to the last clone in the row. The only one they hadn’t started working on yet. Pulling some more cleaning supplies out of his subspace, he handed them to her. “You gonna be ok working on him?” he asked.

Andy’s mouth dropped open as she met the wreck’s optics. He was the same model as her dear Sunny had been. “Did he already have an owner once?” she asked. She didn’t know why she asked that. It didn’t make sense in the least. But for some strange reason, it meant a great deal to her.

“No, he was being shipped out for the first time.”

Dropping to her knees next to the corroded clone, Andy gently touched his shoulder. He was so much like her dear Sunny. Down to the bright smile filled with friendliness. “So you don’t have a name?”

He frowned slightly as he searched his memory banks. “Uh, nope.” He gave her that same hopeful smile. “Would you give me one? Pllllleeeeeeaaaaasssseeee?”

Andy looked back up at Opie. “Can I?” she asked. She didn’t want to overstep her boundaries in this strange new ‘family’ of hers. So it was better to ask first.

Opie shrugged, making it obvious that it wasn’t an issue.

“How do you like the name Sunnydo?” she asked the filthy yellow clone.

The Bumblebee clone beamed in happiness. He had a name now! A real name! “It’s perfect. Thank you so much!”

The girl began to work on getting the grime and corrosion off of him. And as the minutes drifted into an hour – she told him all about how brave and fearless and perfect the first ‘Sunny’ had been. Her emptiness finally starting to be filled by the friendly clone’s words of encouragement and understanding……

-----

“I think he deserves to make enlisted now,” Doc said to Charge.

Charge grunted a bit, turning his head to indicate that he really didn’t want to discuss the topic of Opie right now.

“Look Charge, I know how you feel about another Optimus clone making moves on Scream – but it takes two to tango. So Scream’s half a fault – if not more.”

“I don’t care, he’s a PRIME clone. We DON’T go after married clones!” Slamming his fist down on the mattress, Charge allowed his true feelings to be seen by his peaceful spark mate.

“Well, the abuse changed him. Just like Jag reported. And you did make that deal with Jag. Opie’s the only recruit of that class that hasn’t been promoted. If I don’t promote him after he protected his patient like that – it’ll be obvious that it’s YOU who’s trying to blackball him. And that’s just not right!” The First Aid clone put his chin in his hand and gave his mate an expectant look.

“Do what ever you intend to do. My opinion doesn’t mean jack when it comes to Opie anyways.” If a Prime clone could pull off a pout – Charge was doing that very well.

Doc sighed in exacerbation. “You’ve already agreed to let Jag take him back after the delivery. If Jag’s willing to forgive Opie – then you should too. After all, Jag actually LOVES Scream with all his spark…”

“-and I don’t. Yeah, yeah, yeah, heard that one before.” Crossing his arms, Charge jutted his chin out stubbornly. This was the side of him that no one other than Doc ever saw. And it would forever stay that way as far as he was concerned.

“You are acting like a spoiled Sunstreaker clone who isn’t getting his way,” Doc teased.

“What? You expect me to be perfect too? Hate to disappoint you and everyone else. But I’m an imperfect Optimus model – and always will be.”

The First Aid clone rolled his optics, his mate was acting like such the drama queen in private these days! “We don’t expect you to be perfect – just understanding of the situation.”

“All I understand is that I’d better be holding my sparkling while you coo over him – before that pathetic excuse for a Prime clone slides his cable in MY fech mate,” Charge snarled in a low voice. Tiring of the pointless conversation, he slid open the privacy panel and left the trailer. He needed a walk right now. A really looonnngggg walk!

Doc sighed sadly as he watched his mate disappear out of the trailer’s back door. Tomorrow he was going to tell Opie that he was now enlisted – regardless of what Charge thought of him, the recruit had earned the rank.

Maybe he’d also whisper a word of warning to the youngster. Encourage him to keep his cable to himself for a little while longer….

----

Note: Ok, finally brought in ToonQueen’s humans, as she and I had discussed months ago… Come on girl – write those chapters!
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Age of the Machine (Market Comodity 3)