Obscurity
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It wasn't so much that anyone disapproved of Megatron's choice of a consort, with the exception of Starscream. It was mostly that no one knew why the Emperor had chosen the unremarkable Praxian, let alone knew who the Autobot was.
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Chapter One: Skids?
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It came as no surprise when Optimus selected Soundwave as his consort. In fact if you'd asked any of the Autobot command, they'd all confirm that a few cubes of high-grade and a casual game of "If you could rub bumpers with a 'Con, which one would it be?" would soon have Optimus gushing about Megatron's third-in-command.
What did come as a surprise was Megatron's choice. He sat across the conference table from Optimus, looking somewhat giddy, even a little excited in fact. "There is an Autobot with you by the name of Skids. Skids of Nova Cronum. I wish to have him."
Autobots and Decepticons alike stared.
"Who's Skids?" spat Starscream, putting words to the question most everyone else was thinking.
"Uh, Skids?" asked Optimus rather ineloquently. "You want him?"
The Decepticon warlord glared at the Matrix-bearer. "I am entitled to any Autobot, am I not?" he growled.
"Well of course. Of course," backpedaled Optimus. "That was the agreement, that we were each to select a member of the opposite faction as a consort. It's just that..."
Megatron suddenly looked overly concerned. "Is there some problem? Is he..."
"He's at the Ark right now. I'll summon him," said Prowl, quickly standing.
Megatron looked relieved. "Excellent. Shall we continue the peace talks then?"
Prowl sat and sent the summons, and then he cast a glance of puzzlement at Jazz. Jazz simply shrugged.
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Throughout the Ark, where most of the rest of the Autobots watched the proceedings on the monitors, a flurry of anxious questioning arose. "Skids? Why'd he choose Skids?" was the most common question.
"Who's Skids?" was asked more than once.
"He's that other Praxian—the one with the van alt-mode. The theoretician that works in Prowl's office," answered Mirage, one of the crowd around Teletraan's central console.
"Who?"
"He's kinda plain looking," said Smokescreen. "Solid blue with a bit of red on him. I guess except for us and Prowl, no one really knows him."
"He's really a Praxian?"
"Of course he's Praxian. Don't tell me you haven't noticed. Doorwings and a handsome face," chortled Bluestreak.
"He's been sent on a few missions—I think," said Skyfire. "I went to chase off Insecticons with him once. Nice guy."
"A nobody? Megatron picked a nobody?" groaned Trailbreaker in complete disbelief.
"You were hoping he'd pick you?" teased Hound, nudging his friend in the side.
"He's not a nobody. He's just... kinda unknown I guess," defended Skyfire. "He's friendly though. And very smart."
"I was sure ol' Megs was going to pick Jazz," said Bumblebee, the relief that Jazz had not been selected all too obvious in his tone of voice.
"Who wouldn't pick Jazz?" asked Cliffjumper. Jazz had been the overall favorite in the guesses as to whom the Decepticon leader would select. One, as the third-in-command, he would be analogous to Optimus' selection of Soundwave. Two, they always said 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer.' As head of Spec-Ops, Jazz was probably the biggest thorn in Megatron's side after the faction itself. And three, Jazz was just damn sexy.
Mirage prodded Smokescreen, who was still trying to describe to Huffer who Skids was. "So Smokey. Anyone bet on Skids?" Mirage laughed. Three days ago, when it had been decided that the faction leaders would be taking consorts from the opposing factions as a gesture of peace and good will, Smokescreen had immediately opened his books to bets on the outcome. There had been no bets as to Optimus' coming selection even though announcements would be made later. Everyone somehow knew. However Megatron had never shown any interest in any particular Autobot, leaving his upcoming choice a great mystery.
Smokescreen laughed as well. "I was sure it was going to be Jazz too, or possibly one of the femmes. Prowl was a popular choice as well."
"That didn't answer the question though. Did anyone bet on Skids?"
Smokescreen looked at Mirage, a horrified look washing over his face. "Oh Primus... Bluestreak did. Bluestreak put $100 on Skids. But... he just did it to make me laugh. It was a joke."
Suddenly everyone in the room surrounded Bluestreak. "He's not kidding. I just bet he'd be chosen because... well, like he said, I knew it would make Smokescreen laugh..."
Smokescreen suddenly made a choking noise. "Oh Infinite Primus..."
"Yes?"
Smokescreen collapsed into the closest chair. "I owe Bluestreak $20,000."
There came a collective gasp from the assembly.
"Twenty thousand dollars?" Sunstreaker sputtered.
The shock over, everyone began congratulating Bluestreak.
"You sure you didn't have some little arrangement with Megatron, Bluestreak?" Wheeljack teased the gunner. "Hey Buckethead, want to make a quick ten thousand?"
And when the laughter died down, Cliffjumper asked the next big question on everyone's mind. "So where is Skids right now?"
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Skids of Nova Cronum stared at the screen. This had to be a joke.
"I wish to have him."
No. Megatron hadn't spoken those words. Someone had tampered with the audio. Maybe Bluestreak and Smokescreen had set up some elaborate hoax.
Megatron surely didn't want him. Not even any of the Autobots wanted him, save for Mirage on occasion. He'd done his best to cloak himself in a field of averages and mediocrity, and it had worked very well. Sometimes too well. Unless he actually engaged someone, he would always be overlooked. Unless he maintained contact he would be quickly forgotten.
The door to the general operations office opened and Bluestreak burst in. "Oh Primus! Skids! Megatron asked for you. He wants you as his bondmate!" Several other mechs appeared behind him in the doorway.
"It's a mistake, I'm sure," Skids said calmly. If this was a joke, he wasn't going to give them their laugh.
"We all heard it." He pointed at the screens, the peace talks displayed on all of them. "You heard it yourself."
"I did, but I think Megs got the wrong name," he said dismissively. "Now if you'll excuse me..." He turned back to the central screen. Suddenly there was a message pinging in his inbox, one marked "Top Priority" from Prowl himself. He inhaled a deep vent. If this was a joke, it was unlikely that Prowl would be in on it. And at such a crucial time. He hesitated, unsure of whether he should open it or not.
Suddenly Skyfire was making his way through the crowd at the doorway. "Skids?" he looked over the other heads, and seeing the blue mech at the console, he pushed his way into the office. "Skids, I'm supposed to fly you out to the conference center where they're holding the talks. Prowl gave the order."
His transfluid suddenly dropped a chilly thirty degrees, and he shuddered. At this point, it couldn't still be a joke, could it?
Skids opened the message from Prowl. ~Skids, I expect you have been watching the proceedings on the peace talks, and have undoubtedly heard that Megatron has selected you as his consort. If you would please join us here. Skyfire will fetch you posthaste. I have also assigned Grimlock to you as a bodyguard.~
Suddenly Grimlock was there pushing his way through the crowd into the office, shoving mechs aside where Skyfire had genteelly asked to be allowed through. And on coming into the room, he grinned broadly at Skids. "Me Grimlock to look after You Skids." He put his hands on his hips. "Me protect you from other Decepticons and from assa... ass... ah... assins." The mech scowled. "Me protect you from people who not want you to bond with Him Megatron!" he declared loudly.
Primus! This wasn't some practical joke. This was some nightmare.
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Skids stood in the doorway, escorted uncomfortably closely by Grimlock. The Dinobot took his assignment very seriously.
Megatron looked up from the table, his usual wicked smirk softening to something gentler.
The theoretician trembled. "Muh-meh-mega-tron..." he stuttered. His optics darted about the conference room nervously. His doorwings were drooping noticeably.
Megatron rose and moved to stand before him. "Skids. As I'm sure you know by now, I have chosen you as per the agreement of the treaty. You shall be my consort in the coming time of peace and rebuilding." He took the mech's shaking hands, lifted them, and kissed each in turn.
"Of course," said Skids flatly, in slightly more shock than anyone else in the room.
Optimus and Prowl and Jazz continued to exchange confused looks.
"Come. Sit by my side while we continue the peace talks." Gently, Megatron took Skid's arm and led him to the table, all but shoving Starscream out of his seat and giving it to the rather nondescript Autobot.
And so the final day of the talks went on for two more cycles, the very last details being ironed out and the rough spots being smoothed. All through it, Megatron kept glancing over at the theoretician, a smile of genuine pleasure on his face.
And when the talks concluded Megatron rose, guided the theoretician to his feet, and kissed Skids' hands again. "I look forward to the signing of the treaty tomorrow. Following it, our bond shall be formalized, when I shall claim you as mine."
"Yes, of course," Skids said, unsure of what else to say. "Tomorrow."
Megatron indulged in one more set of kisses before the Decepticon contingent left the conference room, so graciously provided by the humans, and flew off into the night.
Immediately the other Autobots surrounded Skids. "Skids?" asked Optimus, a question and an accusation and an expression of bewilderment all in one.
"I... I don't know. I d-don't know why he chose me," stammered the blue mech.
Jazz immediately began grilling him.
"I don't know. I just don't know why he chose me," Skids repeated over and over in answer to Jazz's questions.
And eventually Optimus just said "Well, I guess Megatron will just keep his secrets for now."
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At the Ark, the returning contingent was met by the remainder of the Autobots, and once more Skids was bombarded with questions. He had been first when Skyfire and Grimlock had taken him from the Second-In Command's office. And now coming back there were more. Megatron's almost tender and loving behavior toward him had certainly not gone unnoticed.
"Please, I don't know anything," Skids pleaded. "I... I have to bond with him and he's probably going to kill me within a week," the mech mourned.
"I highly doubt that," Ratchet countered, working to get Skids away from the others. "Why would Megatron, who has his choice of almost any mech or femme out there, pick someone that... well, not to be unkind, but someone that's a fairly minor character among plenty of other Autobots or far more reputation or notoriety? I highly doubt he'd decide to select a nobody to murder if that were his intent."
Skids looked at the CMO, his optics beginning to fill with tears.
"C'mon, Skids. Hoist and I are going to go get you fully checked out and then we'll get you cleaned head to toe. It might be Megatron, but I'm not going to send you off to bond with an emperor without making sure you're in perfect shape.
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The following day, both forces met in a large grassy field that had been selected for the occasion. Tables had been set up and the majority of the time was spent signing glyphs to documents. Even Shockwave had been brought in to turn over his command of Cybertron to a new provisional council to be set up in short order. When all was said and done and the ritual removal of weapons was complete, the two faction leaders came forth. Optimus handed over Skids to Megatron, while Megatron handed over Soundwave.
"I think Optimus is getting the better deal," Ironhide snarked. "He gets the Decepticon third-in-command, and Megatron gets some nobody data-jockey... Oof!"
He had been cut short by Ratchet's elbow jabbing into his stomach. "He's not a nobody. Apparently he's gotta be somebody if Megatron wants him. Besides, he's a Praxian at that. Maybe it's symbolic. You know, the obliteration of Praxus."
"But then why not Prowl if he wants a Praxian? Prowl's got rank and reputation. And honestly, a lot of the political marriage side of things is just a pretty cover for a hostage situation. Prowl would be far more valuable as a hostage."
Ratchet shook his head. "Are you jealous? Did you want to be chosen?"
It was Ironhide's turn to jab with his elbow.
They all watched as Soundwave was legally and socially tied to the Prime, and then as Megatron went through the same with Skids.
Starscream made no secret of his disapproval of Megatron's selection, even interrupting the ceremony at one point to ask why the mighty Megatron would stoop to marriage with a nobody.
"See? Even Starscream called him a nobody," smirked Ironhide to Ratchet.
Megatron's response was to bodily grab Starscream and toss him several lengths across the field, followed by a threat of sanctions against Vos in the new order if there was any more insubordination.
And when the bonding ceremony was through, the two factions celebrated, somewhat uneasily at first. But when the human media was sent home and the high-grade began to take effect, everyone eased up a little. Ancient friends reunited and long-time rivals shared a drink and a few new friendships were formed. Grapple and the Constructicons together began to plan the rebuilding, to the point where maps of Cybertron were brought up and reviewed between consuming cubes of high-grade.
And through it, Skids stood at Megatron's side timidly. The great warlord always keeping him within arm's reach. Grimlock hovered close by, refusing all drinks and refusing to let down his guard. Whenever Starscream came close the huge reptilian mech glared at him.
At midnight, Optimus thanked every one, and said how thrilled he was that they'd finally put an end to the hostilities. Megatron did the same, and mentioned how glad he was that they would be working together to put Cybertron back in order. And then he turned to his consort, smiling down at him. "I shall take you back to the Nemesis now, my dear," he said ominously. "The first night of the peace will be spent in each others arms..." He leaned in closely. "I look forward to our personal bonding tonight," he whispered.
Desperately, Skids looked over at Optimus, standing with his arm around Soundwave's waist, the Prime happily laughing with some of his officers. Soundwave appeared to be laughing as well. At least... at least Soundwave would be treated well.
And suddenly he felt so far away from the others, so far away and lonely and a million miles from his desk in the general operations office.
"Astrotrain!" Megatron barked.
The triple-changer staggered over, a near-empty cube of high-grade in his hand.
"Take Skids and his bodyguard back to headquarters. Give them to Herald. I shall follow with the others." He turned to a group of seekers. "Thrust! You and your trine are to provide escort. My consort is not to be harmed or threatened. Any mistreatment will be duly punished." He glared at Starscream as those last words were spoken. And finally Megatron took Skids' hands and kissed them both once more. "I'll try not to be too long."
"I shall wait for you," Skids said obediently, hoping that he'd be waiting forever. Miracles did happen sometimes.
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Obscurity continues in Chapter 2: Nobody and Somebody
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Author notes:
Universe – This story's mostly G1 with a few IDW elements thrown in. The more I worked on it, the more detailed and complicated the whole thing got.
The Fourth Praxian – If you look at G1 Skids, he totally looks like he could be kin to the known Praxians (way more than any seekers look like kin to Praxians). Doorwings! He's got a lovely pair of them! So I decided to make him such.
My Inspiration – While not quite a fill, this story is based on the following prompt at Tfkink. It seems that the development of a plot and character interfered.
REQ: Any - Megatron/Autobot - Political marriage, unspecified kink
Date: 2017-05-03 07:48 am (UTC)
There've been plenty of requests for political marriage stories, either to end the war or post-war, and I have a bit of an odd twist on the usual scenario.
Set up things however you will, but when Megatron is asked for his choice of a bride, he asks for one of the last Autobots anyone would ever expect. The response is a collective "Huh? Him? Really?" Yes, Megatron has asked for some odd, low-ranking, not particularly anything member of the faction. He's not a leader. He's average-looking. He wasn't someone important before the war and hasn't done anything that exceptional in the war.
But hey, whatever. If Megs wants him, I guess he can have him. And so the chosen mech goes off to fulfill his duty in the interests of peace.
But of course there's a reason this particular nobody was chosen. He's got some shared fetish with the Decepticon leader, or fulfills some kinky fantasy for him. While it's been forgotten or hidden for a long time, and probably none of his fellow Autobots know about it, Megatron's actually known about this mech and has secretly fantasized about him over the vorns.
I'm leaving it up to the author to choose the Autobot's backstory and why Megatron wants him (please nothing too squicky). Maybe the mech was a well-known sub of some famous Dom, or he has two spikes, or he was a model for a kinky lingerie company, or maybe they're both into a particular and unusual fetish... who knows. Anyway, the Autobot's rather nervous... at least until Megatron gets him alone and wants to indulge that long held fantasy. Suddenly it's a match made in heaven.
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Transformers and all related concepts, characters, worlds, and events are property of Hasbro and Takara Tomy. Original characters and story elements are property of E. Potter, writing under the pen name of Miratete.
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