Maelstrom Chapter 29
Viper Part A

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a comic book! If you have not read the nine original Maelstrom Comics and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the URL here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there...and believe me I am a better artist than writer.

Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored! This scene contains strong language, violence, and sex. Rated M for adult themes!


Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Story and OC characters are mine.
This particular chapter is also based on the work of my ex-roomie. KC was her character for the most part. Critiques adored!

Maelstrom Chapter 29 Viper

Viper - Part A

"Females," Rodimus said in a frigid voice.

He and Optimus were standing alone in the chamber at the heart of Cybertron. Optimus stood with his shoulders straight, as if at attention. Rodimus' empty hands clutched and released invisible weapons as he spoke.

"Unadvisable," Vector Sigma responded. Light from its core pulsed irregularly, reflecting off the torsos and faces of the Primes that faced it.
"Oh yeah? Well so is keeping around a lying piece of shit but you don't see me doing anything about it...yet," Rodimus said neutrally. Optimus just shook his head at the threat but knew better than to say anything. It was let Rodimus curse and demean their creator or watch him explode and kill it....leaving them to slowly go extinct.

Vector Sigma fell silent for a moment. Its sallow light dimmed. Then, "What personality characteristics?"

"What?!" Rodimus asked. He scowled and fought not to call his rifle from sub-space....of course he should have expected this. Vector Sigma, having played god so long, now expected the Primes to do the same now that the Autobots were in control.

Optimus came to his rescue and answered before Rodimus went ahead and did something permanently damaging to the Super Computer - although Rodimus could tell from Op's constrained tones the Senior Prime was every bit as offended as his partner. "We want their personalities to be free, Vector Sigma. We want their characteristics programing chosen at random that they might chose their own destinies as much as possible."

This seemed to shock Vector Sigma if the wild flaring of its radiating light was anything to judge by.

"At RANDOM? How do you intend to control this new generation?"

"We don't you stupid piece of cyber-trash! We don't get a kick out of manipulating everything around us! Don't you get it? These are living beings! They have a right to their own choices!" Rodimus' optics flared almost as bright as Sigma's erratic pulsing.

"I will focus on random Autobot characteristics...."

"NO! You will not focus on Autobot characteristics! You will not focus on any characteristics! RANDOM! Do You Get It Yet? RANDOM! Totally, utterly, completely, entirely random! You do know what random means don't you all-knowing, all-powerful lying piece of shit?!"

"Including Decepticon characteristics?"

"Including ALL characteristics! Ya know Op, for the supposed most powerful computer in existence this thing is pretty slow on the uptake!" Rodimus sneered to his partner.

Optimus could only sigh and nod.

"But....the newly-activated may turn on you if I include programing from the warrior line...." Vector Sigma protested.

"I suspect some of them will," Optimus said with a touch of sadness. He was joyful at having reached this phase of their plans. The birth of a new generation was the first, best reason to hope he'd had in a long time...and what a generation it would be. The very first not activated purely to act as a living shield for Vector Sigma. The very first to be made free. Even though the first body shells had yet to be constructed Optimus already felt a powerful affection for new lives not yet begun. They were Cybertron's future, its hope, its legacy. Even if he and Rodimus ultimately failed in bringing down their enemies, they were planning for the survival of this new generation. If Cybertron fell, these youngsters might survive. With this freedom came the risk though that some of these new lives would take paths Optimus felt were wrong. The foresight saddened him a bit, but he supposed it was inevitable He supposed it was the same hope and dread human parents must experience when anticipating the birth of their children.

"You will blame me if they desert you," Vector Sigma said fearfully...and no wonder. It knew that most of the council - Rodimus in particular - were watching its every move for the slightest treason. It had no illusions that the death threats were very real. It had probed Jazz, and Magnus well on their initial trip to enslave it and knew they had deviated from its original programming. Probing Rodimus had proven terrifying and futile. Jazz and even Magnus had been affected by years off of Cybertron away from Vector Sigma's influence. Contact with alien species - especially humans - had written new pathways into their minds. It had been a horrible shock to touch their minds and see how far they had diverted from its original plans for them.

Jazz had been groomed to be Optimus' most creative officer and confidant, but only in realms Vector Sigma could predict. It had all been a matter of personality with Jazz though. Magnus had to have more direct "guidance." The "Disaster" which had so traumatized the City Commander and shaped his soul had been carefully orchestrated. The spur of the moment decision to play hooky had been planted in Magnus' subconscious the previous recharge period, as had the idea to attack that particular division been planted in the Decepticon Commander. The result - a guilt-stricken Autobot who then forged himself into one of the few true warriors the Autobots had at that time. A crucial counterweight to the Decepticons' more violent natures.

All in the name of keeping the sides balanced and in control.

The Primes confronting Vector Sigma still did not know it could invade and manipulate their minds directly. They thought all of its manipulation of the war had been done at the programming stage, but Vector Sigma had many means of controlling its pawns...carefully crafted personalities were just the first step.

More females stood the best chance of shattering its domination of all Transformers past all hope of recovery. Nothing the Primes could have demanded frightened Sigma more.

Sigma fumed at chaos. Chance factors beyond its power to influence had brought it to this crossroads. The discovery of Earth had been the first step in cracking that its supremacy....especially with young ones like Hot Rod escaping Vector Sigma's influence early.

Unicron hadn't helped either.

The partnership of the Primes had been a completely unacceptable shock. Sharing command? Unfettered brainstorming? Vector Sigma had been repeatedly frustrated as it tried to influence one or the other...even both. Even if it managed to get a suggestion planted the process by which they criticized their plans usually destroyed it...or at least warped it beyond Vector Sigma's ability to use.

The Super Computer had been getting ready to produce a new generation of Decepticons to counter-act the partnership when Rodimus was taken. Vector Sigma had delayed its plans because Optimus seemed disproportionally weakened by that loss and Vector Sigma predicted the Decepticons would eventually take advantage of that.

Rodimus had returned though...broken and rebuilt into something Vector Sigma couldn't fathom. Even now, as the young Prime stood seething in front of it, Vector Sigma tried to analyze Rodimus, tried to find some means of leashing him. It couldn't. Maybe if it had just been the Jabez torture that changed Rodimus....but it wasn't. It was also the killing he did, the skills he'd learned, humanity, fatherhood, love, a mental link and a whole lifetime's worth of second-hand memories. Not to mention the fact that the link with Lancer had closed Vector Sigma's back-door access to Rodimus' mind. Her paranoia over her possession was now Rodimus' as well. His channels were well guarded (and now Magnus was the same thanks to Unicron's assault.)

All that initial probe had taught Vector Sigma was that it had no hope of influencing or even fathoming these Transformers again.

And now the Primes wanted it to produce females...females with minds of their own. Females free to chose their allegiance. Females...who might just have the power to cut Sigma's last strand of influence.

It made no sense to Vector Sigma. It couldn't understand how these Autobots could bear the thought that these new ones might not side with them. How it hated that these Autobots weren't under sway right now! It wanted them to serve its interests again! Didn't they want the same thing for themselves? Apparently not. They weren't even keeping the reins of power strictly in their own hands anymore either...now the members of the council had an unprecedented amount of impact on everything the Primes did...and it wasn't just Autobots! They were heeding humans! Humans! Creatures Vector Sigma couldn't fathom.

Vector Sigma gave up trying to understand, and assented to their demands - starting with Optimus' insistence that the branding devices be disabled. The new Cybertronians would chose their insignia...if they wanted one at all.

It ran a final status check. All the machines had been updated. Energon flowed like never before. Raw materials from half a dozen trade alliances poured into the waiting vats.....and for the first time since the Quintisson occupation, Cybertron's great factories sprang into full operation.

And when hours later the first new arrival opened her eyes, straightened a slim body of black and deep purple, and defiantly pronounced herself Cobalt, the Primes, the full council, and an entourage of Autobots were waiting to greet her and accept her. Whoever she was.

X

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X

After the initial ceremony, there was a brief period of schooling with Chromia and Kup acting as teachers to help the first four new arrivals get their bearings, learn how to find their way around, the opportunities available to them, and how to get help if they needed it.

It was new ground for the instructors - in all of Cybertron's' history new Transformers were activated with a firm idea of their place in life. Their desires and personality went hand in hand with their physical design. While the new girls were all well armed, intelligent, and independent none of their designs spoke of an obvious career. These young ladies, Cobalt, Onyx, Opal, and Obsidian, had sleek, sturdy bodies which transformed into a variety of vehicle and jet modes.

Cobalt and Obsidian were both fliers. Cobalt's transform reminded Chromia uncomfortably of Starscream, while Obsidian seemed more like a long-range bomber. She was the tallest of the four and was solid black from head to toe with no accenting of any kind. Only her merry blue optics stood out. Onyx was also black, but she had chrome trim to break up her design. Somehow that only made the black seem blacker. Opal had the exact same body shell - in reverse, color and all. Even their transformations were identical and they became six wheeled Cybertronian trucks when in alternate mode.
It would be up to them to decide what they wanted to do with themselves and up to their teachers to present as many options as possible.

It was hard, time-consuming work to instruct them. They often brought up questions their teachers had no idea how to answer, Like why the war had gone on so long, and what would happen if the Decepticons ever tried to make peace. Chromia found herself thriving on it though. Forced to consider her own world as though she were a stranger she discovered much she had overlooked and much she had forgotten. It was harder for Kup, who seemed dispirited to her, and she knew he had the most trouble discussing the Decepticons honestly without letting long years of hatred shine through.

Chromia couldn't imagine why Op and Rodi had put Kup on this assignment. After their first day with the "gems" Kup had gone home with his shoulder struts bowed. Shortly after Kup went home, Rodimus had appeared from somewhere and asked Chromia about the day. At first, Chromia just assumed he was sensibly looking after their new additions, until she realized from Rodimus' carefully phrased questions that he was also asking about Kup. Apparently the Primes knew the old robot was depressed. Rodimus was worried about Kup but he was trying to pretend he wasn't. Maybe they felt giving the veteran some young ones to instruct would give him a new sense of purpose.

Chromia decided that made Kup part of her responsibility too, and set out to make him feel valued. Some times it seemed to work. He would come alive telling some part of their history or another and enrapture his listeners, including her. Other times, especially when one of their students would ask a particularly unexpected question it would seem to really hurt the old bot.

Asked to describe what made a Prime and how both leaders had gotten their starts, Kup flat out refused to answer and stormed out of the room.

When Chromia told Rodimus that he said he was sure Kup would get used to it, but Chromia knew somehow that Rodimus didn't believe his own words.

Why that realization made her want to comfort Rodimus was a mystery to her. There were stories that Kup and Rodi had once been close but this was the first evidence Chromia had seen of anything more than a strictly professional relationship. She supposed that should have told her something since Rodimus was personable with everyone, even complete strangers. Kup was a rather glaring exception.

Chromia wondered what fell between them to cause this deep rift....but she felt it wasn't her place to intervene. Instead she spent her energies intervening between her students and the rest of Cybertron's population.

The second day out on their own both Cobalt and Obsidian got into trouble asking too many questions about the Decepticons. The Aerialbots in particular got upset by this for some reason and Air Raid got a bit forceful in his vehement defamation of their enemies. He attempted to grab Obsidian to "shake some sense into her" and got a well-aimed punch right in the face for his trouble. She was strong, and taller than he was by about a head, so the punch did a fair bit of damage. This led to a minor scuffle which landed Air Raid, Slingshot, Cobalt, and Obsidian in First Aid's care. Their feelings were more scraped up than their paint jobs thanks to Silverbolt's swift intervention but from the look on Silverbolt's face Chromia had a feeling the Aerialbots involved would have been glad for a lengthy stay in Med-Lab.

Onyx and Opal appeared in Med-Lab when they heard their sisters were there. They provided the one bright spot in Chromia's day by becoming immediately fascinated by First Aid and everything he was doing. They unnerved the medic by staring at him silently while he worked on Air Raid's dented face-plate and wing assembly. They unnerved him more by then turning to Cobalt and performing similar repairs on her, practically flawlessly.

It was a minor procedure, but they took turns with the equipment while First Aid went from protesting to encouraging them in about 2 minutes even. He was happily showing them around Med-Lab before poor Slingshot was even fully repaired yet. First Aid let them work on the petrified Aerialbot and coached them carefully through each step...noting how accurate and gentle their hands were. Slingshot, whose fears proved groundless, took a dim view of being used as a guinea pig, but he had nothing to complain about when they were through. Cobalt saw fit to tease him about his "cowardice" and nearly started the whole fight again.

Skydive thought the whole thing was hysterical and pronounced Slingshot smitten. Cobalt AND Slingshot hit him for that so Opal had another dent to practice on. For once First Aid didn't complain about the fighting. He wasted no time kicking everyone but the "twins" out after that so he could revel in the very thought of having some help. Chromia was stunned at how instantaneously he accepted her charges and how they too just decided they wanted to learn from him. At least they all seemed happy. She was just relieved to have two less to worry about.

She doubted Cobalt and Obsidian would find niches so easily. Cobalt was still fuming over Air Raid's comment that "It looks like a Con, acts like a Con, probably is a stupid Con," while Obsidian wanted to know why he made it sound like an insult even if it were true. Then she wondered what made them look like Decepticons and when Chromia said Decepticons were more likely to have airborne modes, Obsidian very logically pointed out that the Aerialbots were jets too. Chromia snickered and informed her young friend that logic of that sort was likely to be lost on Air Raid since his ego was involved. She spent the rest of the day with them and gave them a lot of pointers on the management of the male ego so that they wouldn't be so prone to have such difficulties again...unless they wanted them.

If nothing else, Chromia mused, these new ladies would certainly make their presence known.

X

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Across Iacon, Jazz, in human form, smiled as he watched KC's fingers dance across the keyboard. He wished she'd put them to better use. Since the lady discovered of her metal shaping abilities she's been even harder to spring, he thought to himself. Now she's got me cooped up in here too. Not my kinda party at all...except she's here. Never thought I'd be late on the scene to watch a mad scientist work too hard.

The specialist sighed and rested his chin on his hand. He was sitting cross-legged on a counter and watching KC work over her shoulder. He respected her for the place she had made for herself with the Autobots and within the Council, but her sporadic adventures with him had gone from rare to nearly non-existent. Some part of him wondered if that was entirely due to her increased responsibilities and her grueling training with Lancer. On top of being Perceptor's frantic aide, she was now expected to master her powers and defend herself in ways that satisfied her teacher. Given how Lancer still took Rodimus and Elita to task over their dead on scary fighting skills, Jazz didn't see any light at the end of that tunnel.

Still, in spite of KC's horrific schedule, Jazz wondered. His own wasn't much lighter, and he still found time to try out this fascinating new form at various venues. KC hadn't joined him in close to six months. Dancing by himself was never a problem, and it was infrequent in any case. He would take the floor and it was nearly never long before some lady or another came to dance with him. They weren't always shy about where they put their hands either.

These encounters always left Jazz seething with needs an Autobot usually felt only dimly, but he had set himself a goal and the women (and occasional man) who gyrated with him on the dance floor went home alone. He took comfort in the fact he was at least desirable to them, since he had no human frame of reference on that.

He supposed he was good looking. He heard it often enough when he was out. Raven black hair, mahogany skin, and an Autobot's electric blue eyes. The eyes were the only trait he shared with either of his morphing Autobot brothers. Magnus had eyes exactly the same shade, although the similarities ended there. The City Commander loomed at almost seven feet and was built like a walking wall. Jazz was 5' 10" and slender.

Lancer called him a greyhound.

Rodimus called him a damned pain in the ass for the facile way he took to this new substance. What had taken Magnus days to adjust to and months to really master, Jazz had fallen into as if human born. He "graduated" to go out on his own in less than a week, and that was with Rodimus being paranoid and over-protective.

Jazz's one human hang-up was the opposite of his traumatized commander. Where Rodimus felt no desire for food, even when he should have been famished, Jazz had a tendency to enjoy his meals too much. He had made himself ill from over-eating on a few memorable occasions. He never gained an ounce, being too energetic, but he had to make sure he didn't lose himself in what he was tasting to the point he ignored the pain of an over-stretched stomach.

That was his problem.
Engrossment.
Enchantment.
It was all just so cool.
Certainly he turned enough heads, except, perhaps, the one he wanted to turn.

KC remained stubbornly hard to get, and after so long he was starting to get suspicious that she was deliberately avoiding going out with him. He thought back on their first (and last) date as a human pair. She had laughed all night, and seemed to truly be enjoying herself, and he was fairly certain not all of the rosy cast to her face was from exertion. There had been one, incredible moment when she had thrown her arms around him and if it had been a movie, she would have kissed him long and hard right then. He had been utterly sure she was going to lead him home that night.

This wasn't a movie. She hadn't kissed him, and the experience of human interfacing remained on his list of things to try.

Frustrated, Jazz hopped to his feet to wander around and poke into this and that. At least this wasn't Perceptor's lab. Jazz was sure similar nights poking around left him with a better idea of where Perceptor put things than Perceptor had. This was KC's place, so at least he was looking at different junk in different drawers.

.....

Exactly how had he been reduced to this much fun and excitement anyway?

Rodi had allotted KC some personal workspace for testing her powers and her own experiments away from Perceptor's clutches. Actually it ended up being quite a set-up, she had seen to that, sculpting most of the equipment herself right out of the floor. Her brilliant mind and deep understanding of engineering allowed her to make working devices almost instantly.

Lancer said most class 3 shapers like KC could only make the appearance of objects... sculptures basically. KC's knowledge made her far more potent with the same amount of power, because she understood what she was building.

Tonight's excuse for no fun at all was her latest creation which was to be tested later that week, and she hadn't even fully decided on the design specs. Matter-of-fact, there was no sign of this creation to be seen, the lab was virtually empty with the exception of an excessively large bubble of metal in the middle of the room. Jazz didn't know what to make of it but he knew that was intentional on KC's part. He wasn't supposed to see this creation before it made its debuts...it was all part of its first test that he not know it when he saw it.

Bored, Jazz glanced over to where KC sat grinning like a fool at whatever she had just programmed. That little gleam in her eye made him worry all the more. She's got it in for someone.... Slipping this thing in with the next batch of new ladies is a good way to test its programing, but I've got surges wondering it I'm the first mark.

Bored...bored...bored....time to start making some trouble. "Casey, oh Casey!" Jazz sang. "CASEY!"

"Jazz, my name is K C, is it really that difficult?" she grumbled at him for about the millionth time. "What time is it anyway?"

"Try 22:15 hours."

"Oh. OH! Damn! I have to go. Shit!" KC cried. "I was supposed to meet the Dinobots at 2200 hours. Shit, I'm late! Rodi's gonna kill me...unless Lancer gets me first! My first solo mission and I almost forgot! Can you give me a lift?" She smiled at him sweetly, but taking a second look she realized he wouldn't be able to - he was human and didn't have the ability to change spontaneously from human to Autobot as Rodi did so often. "Oh...geez. I guess I'm getting used to you as a mere mortal."

His heart soared with that smile even though he cursed her priorities and he replied charmingly, "Don't worry your head Little Lady, I'll have you there here in no time and in style! The boss won't ever know you were running behind!" The young mutant turned to see him morphing from human to Autobot as he spun around then finished with a flourished dance step that said Ta-Da!

KC's jaw fell.

Jazz grinned and waved his hand in front of her as if she was truly stunned. "That smoked your tires!" he smirked. "Let's cruise Fair Maiden," he crowed, then did his final transformation to vehicle mode, also with his patented pizzazz. The performance however, wasn't over until he did donuts around her and threw the Porsche driver's side door open - beckoning for her to hop in. Still amazed, she stepped into the vehicle. Jazz closed his door for her and sped off to the Dinobots' Lair.

She didn't said a word. The silence became too much for the Specialist to take and he put on some tunes and poured on the gas.

That snapped the scientist out of her shock. "You've been holding out on me!" KC yelled, annoyed, at the stereo set-up in Jazz's interior. She always spoke to the radio in his vehicle mode, because that was where his voice seemed to be emanating from.

"I've been waiting for the right moment to dazzle you." Jazz's voice insisted and still, somehow, she knew he was smiling, proud of his accomplishment.

It would have to do with timing, she thought to herself. "Jazz you are certifiably nuts."

"Only over you darlin'," his voice chimed.

KC sighed to herself, letting him get away with that, This time.

A few minutes drive was all it took to get to the Dinobots' quarters..or what passed for them. It was really a large courtyard with equally large storage depots on every side where the Dinobots could curl up and recharge at will. The Dinos called it "The Lair" because the late Ratchet had told them lairs were homes for "dangerous predators" after they had asked why all the Autobots called their place that. The Dinobots liked that answer.

Everyone else called it "The Lair" because it was a jumbled heap of crumpled wreckage.

All attempts to clean up the place were swiftly destroyed by the Dinobots' general clumsiness and Swoop's peculiar collections of shiny junk which he couldn't resist bringing home. One time during his first term Rodimus had mistakenly ordered the whole area cleared out and given to Wreck-gar. This felony had resulted in a severe temper tantrum from the normally docile Swoop. The tantrum hadn't budged Rodimus, but the weeks of depression which had followed HAD gotten him to reluctantly retrieve every one of Swoop's "treasures" from the Junkions. It was expensive, but Rodimus couldn't stand to see the poor Dinobot moping around and had paid from his personal accounts. Fortunately Wreck-gar had a photographic memory for trash and was able to find each and every priceless item amongst the towering heaps of refuse on Junkion.

That was the last time anyone dared touch "The Lair", although Rodimus did sometimes send the Dinos away for a few hours so Hot Spot, Inferno, and Red Alert could sneak in there and spray the whole mess with fire-retardant.

KC jumped out, turned to Jazz to thank him, and watched him transform.

"I think I'll stay and help - you forgot your equipment." Jazz added.

"Ahhh. that's what you think!" KC waved and wiggled her fingers at him, implying that she'd actually use her metal shaping powers to do the work.

Jazz shook his head and gave her a crooked smile - a month ago she wouldn't have done that. He was impressed. He never thought he'd see the day she'd begin to get over the fear of using her powers. Now she knew that she was the one in control. He really wanted to hug her and swing her around but he couldn't switch to human form since Grimlock was charging KC like the oversized puppy he was. Jazz chuckled.

Continued in Part B.