Maelstrom Chapter 17
Crucible
Maelstrom 6
Crucible: Part 1
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!
Rodimus came awake suddenly in the darkness of his seldom seen quarters. He could see himself dimly reflected on the shell of his recharging unit - lit from within by his flaring optics. With an assassin's eye for detail, he automatically noted the haggard look to his face. Ludicrous. Robots can't look haggard. ... He was apparently really talented. Not that it mattered.
He had been strong-armed into recharging again, but wasn't sure what had awakened him. Usually he deliberately exhausted himself to the point no nightmares could disturb him - in any case, he hadn't woken up flailing so he knew it wasn't that.
Still...his energon surged with dread.
If it wasn't a flashback or his recurring nightmares then what was it? The usual terror of their precarious situation was no different than usual, but this didn't seem to feel like that. That was like the dull ache of a wound that never healed. This was sharp, acute, and immediate. He scanned the room with robotic sensors, and less tangible assassin's instincts. Nothing seemed amiss.
What had he been dreaming about anyway? It wasn't his usual nighttime line-up of being tortured, or new and more desperate measures against his enemies. He'd felt hot, and uncomfortable. Damp. Sweaty.
Sweaty?
Hmm...perhaps he hadn't been dreaming after all. Perhaps he'd been living another's waking day. Best not to think about it then. Best to throw some precious energy on the shield and try to go back to restoring his fuel supply.
Yeah right.
As if he could ignore the fear. Especially now that he realized it was coming from...through the shield.
And no, he wouldn't think about what was causing it. He wouldn't think of all the things there were to fear. All the bounty-hunters. All the slavers. All the more indifferent calamities that could befall one small, tender human body. He wouldn't dwell on that, or what it would feel like if one of those fates were to befall the distant/ever-present spark that he treasured above all others.
Sure he wouldn't.
He heard his recharge chamber straining to compensate for the energy he was wasting not thinking about her.
He lay there a long time, not thinking about her, and emerged from his recharge more exhausted than when he went in.
When Rodimus stepped out of his chamber, he saw Optimus give him a critical once-over. Rodimus felt worry and frustration radiating from his partner like heat, but knew the elder Prime had nothing to complain about for once. They had his recharger rigged to make sure he stayed in it for the specified length of time, which, in his case, was longer than a normal Autobot's. Rodi chaffed at the surveillance and the distinction, but ever since they had gotten it in their heads there was something wrong with him, his recharge time had gone up and up....which of course meant Rodimus sought his quarters less and less. This last time Optimus had threatened to have him forcibly dragged.
Rodimus almost called that bluff - Optimus wouldn't risk a public display of tension between the two of them, but decided it wasn't worth the fight. Optimus was paranoid (in Rodi's opinion) about his partner's health, and Rodimus didn't want to fan the fire anymore right now.
They walked to the shuttle port in silence and waited for Magnus' ship to land for their weekly conference. Normally, they would have used these precious minutes to talk about nothing - valuable in itself to insure their friendship and sanity. There was too much strain between them right now though. Rodimus didn't want to talk about his health, his torture, or Lancer, while Optimus wanted to talk about nothing else. They said nothing.
Magnus, leaving the shuttle, saw his leaders waiting for him as usual and was shocked. He hadn't seen Rodimus in nearly three weeks. The young Prime had been attending to Vector Sigma's assignments during two of Magnus' visits, and once was off on even less pleasant, and far bloodier business. Optimus had briefed Rodi on Magnus' reports later, in private. The elder Prime had asked the City Commander to confirm what Optimus had been saying - apparently Rodimus' unwavering insistence that nothing was wrong made Optimus slightly mistrustful of his own judgment - but Magnus could see Optimus had only been too right.
Maybe it was the fact that Optimus had seen the deterioration gradually that made the elder Prime doubt. Having not seen Rodi in some time, Magnus had no such handicap - Rodimus looked like hell, and for an Autobot that just shouldn't be possible.
Rodimus' eye-bending colors were decidedly subdued. He held his body in a thin caricature of his usual pose - normally you could tell he was just barely managing to keep himself still. Today he listed slightly to one side like he could barely keep upright. Even his optics seemed dim.
He looked old. Older than Magnus. Older than Optimus.
Magnus met Optimus' eyes and nodded slightly, although Op didn't really need the signal to know Magnus' assessment. The City Commander's stunned expression had been enough.
The final "control" to this little inquiry came out of the shuttle behind Magnus in the form of Captain Marissa Fairborne. She hadn't been fore-warned in any way, and hadn't seen Rodi for even longer than Magnus.
She looked Rodimus openly up and down from the top of the ramp.
"What the hell happened to you?!" she asked him in a strident, worried, nearly angry tone.
Rodimus declined to answer.
They got the meeting underway. Jazz spoke for a long while, updating them all on his latest sources for supplies and ammo. He was in charge of acquiring non-Cybertronian explosives and weaponry that Rodimus could use to make the slavers he assassinated look like victims of other slavers. It was difficult work. He needed to garner these supplies without raising suspicions or leaving a trail.
Often it meant lying, bribing, or even stealing the materials Rodimus was looking for.
Jazz found to his dismay, that he had a real talent for maneuvering the black market and that the skills he so proudly used against the Decepticons for millennia also made him a consummate thief.
He looked at himself with less and less sense of self-worth and his respect for his friends was suffering too. There sat the vaunted Optimus Prime, debating with his renowned mate and stead-fast City Commander whether or not illegal arms dealers would retaliate or complain if Jazz got caught "relocating" one of their shipping containers.
That these people he loved and respected before all others would sit around discussing how to help him get better at this made his energon run cold.
Even Optimus and Elita were concentrating on the meeting and discussing their latest plan of action. It was a long meeting, which thankfully for Jazz finally shifted from skimming inventories and piracy to tightening their security against Converted mutant infiltrators and teleporters.
Jazz sank back into his chair and participated, but with a sullen expression.
Rodimus, on the other hand, was almost glad there was so much to discuss and work on - he was tired. Something was still going on with...on the other side of the shield, and it was getting harder and harder to concentrate on anything but holding it up. He certainly didn't want a direct confrontation right now. He felt he was doing well until....
PAIN...
Rodimus convulsed slightly in his seat, his mind in purest shock and terror. That was pain on a human scale - really high on the human scale. Jumping to all kinds of conclusions, none of them good, Rodimus fought down a flashback, and his own need to simply breach the shield and help her. The pain passed. Magnus was talking and the others had their eyes on him. Rodimus made a mask of polite interest out of his face and took stock. He wouldn't breach the shield - she'd hate him for it - but he could evaluate the emotions which were coming through.
Fear.
Concern.
A strange protectiveness.
More fear.
That was it though. No battle rage. No fury. Something was happening, but if it was torture where was the rage? The fear wasn't right for that either. It wasn't the fear you felt when someone was trying to hurt you. It was more fear something would go wrong.
Rodimus couldn't understand it, but he felt the shield falter again and threw more energy at it. The corresponding energy from the other side seemed weaker than usual, and he compensated for it. Whatever was happening apparently took a lot of concentration and strength, and he resigned himself to enduring an extra share of holding the barrier. He braced himself, mentally and physically, and tried to turn his attention back to the meeting.
PAIN....
Rodi's optics widened, and for once he was glad he couldn't scream. His fingers clenched into the table though, and for an instant his face contorted to reflect what he was feeling. When if finally passed enough for him to notice his surroundings again he noticed Marissa was looking at him in shock.
"RODIMUS?" she cried.
He was suddenly the center of attention. Wonderful.
Magnus' first response was annoyance -- thinking Rodimus was once again clowning around during the City Commander's report because it was "long, and boring." Marissa's worried face told Magnus this was no minor antic however.
"What's the matter with you?" Marissa demanded. She wasn't asking, she was ordering, and it took a lot for her to ignore protocols that way.
"Nothing. I just...thought of something, that's all," Rodimus said lightly.
"A flashback?" Optimus asked quietly.
Sounded pretty good as an excuse to Rodimus. He nodded, and Optimus seemed ready to accept the excuse and go back to the meeting. The elder Prime was slowly learning to accept Rodi's flashbacks and work around them, instead of insisting his partner take the rest of the day off. He had seen for himself it only made things worse when Rodimus was given free time to brood. Unfortunately, Marissa had also seen Rodi flash before and knew the difference. Flashbacks always locked his body in a rigid posture that seemed like a convulsion caught in stone. He wasn't able to move a servo let alone wince and grip the table.
She swore...and swore, the general gist being that he was lying, and was less than intelligent for doing so, especially if he expected her to believe any of it.
Rodi opened his mouth to contradict her when the agony hit him again. This time they all saw it warp his face with anguish and saw as well his inability to vocalize what he was feeling. Before the fit even passed Optimus had First Aid in the room and fussing. Rodimus knew there was no way the medic could have made it here from Med-Lab that quickly and it confirmed his suspicions that Optimus had drawn First Aid away from his assignments to shadow Rodi's schedule and be near at hand. The young Prime was disgusted. This was all a waste of First Aid's time. There was nothing wrong with him!
He noted distantly that he was making dents in the table clenching it so hard, and damaging his fingers slightly. Well, at least it gave Fist Aid something tangible to fuss over.
"THAT'S IT!" Optimus cried. "You are confined to Med-Lab until further notice! You are relieved of duty until we can figure out what's wrong!"
The fit was passing and Rodimus proved he could even teach Marissa a few things about swearing. He ended with, "There's nothing wrong with me!"
The entire room had a few moments of hysterical screaming, cursing, and all out tirades over that statement. They could be so dense sometimes.
When there was finally a moments lull in the cacophony he repeated himself with a little more emphasis on the last word. He didn't want to let them know that much but since they seemed ready to haul him down to Med-Lab by force he felt he had to. He could always evade them or break out if they tried to lock him up, but it meant more effort than he currently had energy for.
"No! I meant there is nothing wrong with ME," Rodimus stated. Dead silence fell. Something in his face maybe told them what he meant. The sorrow maybe. Worry like they felt for him, only Rodimus didn't worry like that for himself, did he?
First Aid's preliminary scan confirmed Rodimus' assessment. Nothing was wrong. None of his pain sensors were even active.
"First Aid go back to Med-Lab," Rodimus stated, "You should be down there anyway. You can't help me."
First Aid looked between his commanders uncertainly.
"He stays," Optimus intoned.
Magnus and Marissa exchanged looks - they had rarely seen one commander contradict the other in front of them. Whatever disagreements Op and Rodi had were kept behind closed doors.
From the scowl on Rodi's face he was less than amused. Optimus stood his ground in the face of his partner's icy green stare. Magnus moved subtly closer to Optimus. He doubted he could stop Rodimus from reaching the senior Prime if the assassin in him attacked, but the City Commander hoped he could stop Rodi from killing Optimus.
Rodimus chose words instead. "He has better things to do than hang around here. There's NOTHING he can do!"
"No? Maybe not. But on the off chance he can, he stays anyway."
"We don't have time to waste on stupidities Optimus! His other assignments are more important than this! Sweeping the streets would be more important than this! It's useless!"
"I don't think you are in any condition to judge," Optimus said coldly. He stepped forward in concern though when Rodimus surged to his feet and then immediately doubled over. Rodimus snarled so viscously that Optimus jerked away in momentary fright. Rodimus braced himself against the table, head down and shuddering.
"What's happening Rodi?" Marissa cried. "What's happening to Lancer? Do they have her?"
The EDC Captain instantly regretted the question...not because she didn't want to know but because of the look of refined terror on Rodimus' face. She knew also that the answer to her question was no. Rodimus might claim he would never breach the shield but if the Jabez had his mate, Marissa knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself.
"GO FIRST AID!" Rodimus snapped - his pain making his voice harsh and nearly unrecognizable.
"Rodimus..." Elita began.
NO!" he roared. "He has work to do! We have work to do! We're late already! Magnus! Hurry up with that fucking report!"
"Fine. I wish to report one of my superiors has completely lost his mind," Magnus said.
Rodimus glared at him, "Well, Optimus IS getting a bit paranoid. Maybe he should go to Med-Lab for some tests! Take him with you First Aid! What? You're still here?"
"I'll get a sedative," First Aid told Optimus.
"Come within ten yards of me with that shit, First Aid and you'll need your own expertise!" Rodimus snarled, assuming a defensive posture. Another wave of anguish was flowing over him slowly, and he couldn't help snapping. Beside - the idea of sedatives...restraints.....no. He said some things to his partner that were better suited for the Jabez.
Optimus knew better than to be goaded but somehow was anyway. Maybe it was that he was picking up on some of Rodi's emotions through the Matrix. Or more likely it was just that Rodimus was the most aggravating soul to ever blight Optimus' path with its stubbornness. He made more than a few remarks to that effect which he regretted immediately when Elita placed a calming hand on his arm. Her touch was like coolant and he was suddenly able to think clearly , and see his seething partner objectively once again. He wasn't arguing with a rational person and Op was ashamed he'd allowed himself to bicker with someone in so much pain he could barely stand upright.
Optimus felt sick fear that Lancer might die from whatever she was suffering and drive Rodimus totally insane or worse - if Rodi could still feel her so far away, and shielded - what would happen when she died? Rodimus looked half-dead already....
"Rodimus don't be stubborn! Let First Aid check you out in Med-Lab! Maybe he can find something..."
"STUBBORN? ME? YOU'RE the one who won't give it a fucking rest! I've been to Med-Lab! I've even been to Perceptor! You guys are as bad a the fucking Jabez! Didn't it ever occur to you I don't like being poked at? I'm saying this for the last time - THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO! now...leave me alone." Rodimus spoke each word with definitive emphasis. They saw the pain hit him again and he began backing towards the door.
First Aid was stunned nearly senseless at being compared to the Jabez, but even so he wasn't about to let Rodimus escape in that state. He took a step towards Rodimus, and got carefully but violently thrown back at Optimus who was a step behind him. Magnus' systems went to full combat status, although he was managing not to panic at the thought of those deadly assassin's moves at the disposal of a clearly irrational Prime. If Rodi was so far gone he'd attack First Aid....
Desperately, Magnus jumped, hoping (faintly) to catch Rodimus off guard, or at least to protect the others with his life. Maybe that would stun some sense back into Rodimus.
No such luck. If anything, Rodimus was hyper-alert in his torture spawned frenzy. Fortunately for Magnus however, the young Prime wasn't totally without his reason. Instead of the offensive tactics he might have used on his friends he opted for escape, using a flash grenade which blinded Magnus, caused most of the others to flinch, and left Marissa seeing nothing but spots for several minutes. In that instant he was gone and by the time the others could even see to look for him, they knew it was too late to even try.
He'd even managed to get past Blitzwing, who waited outside the restricted areas for Rodimus like a sad, over-devoted dog. That Rodimus could slip past his somewhat obsessed personal shadow made Optimus wonder if the young Prime had super-natural powers - or had learned to fly.
They searched anyway.
Optimus knew calling out a full-scale search for his partner would cause more havoc than good - especially if they found Rodi. Most of the Autobots didn't know anything about the Jabez, Lancer, or Rodimus' skills as an assassin. Sending them into the tunnels to find him would be like murder if he was truly irrational and would cause too many questions even if he wasn't. Not to mention all the morale problems which went with an ailing commander. Optimus reluctantly remained behind, (someone had to stay at the helm) while the other council members hunted, and even more reluctantly called in the few others who knew as much as Rodi's relationship with Lancer. Arcee, Springer, Blurr, and Kup got their sectors from Magnus and joined the search.
Not unexpectedly they found nothing.
"He's lost his mind this time Optimus!" First Aid cried. They had reconvened in the conference room to discuss where Rodimus might have hidden himself since random searches had proven futile. Optimus could only hope Rodimus didn't run into any of the scattered neutrals or Decepticons which still scavenged meager livings in the mazes of Cybertron's innards - not that the senior Prime feared for his partner. He was afraid Rodimus would murder someone.
"This surprises you?!" Magnus snapped. It was more of an accusation than a question. "We're lucky it isn't worse! And it still may get worse!"
"Yeah Man," Jazz agreed, flopping down in a seat and resting his chin on his hands. He looked tired and sad, as he did more and more often lately.
Optimus glared at the two of them suspiciously. "Why do I get the feeling there's something you two haven't been telling me?"
They glanced at each other.
Jazz shook his head slightly, but Magnus finally scowled and spoke to the Specialist rather than answering his commander.
"I know your reservations Jazz, but Rodimus is becoming a danger to himself and to the rest of us. In his current state, he could undo all the work we have done since he came back."
"He's just hurtin' Man. He hasn't lost it - he's just scared," Jazz said, but without much conviction.
"Is it worth the risk?" Magnus asked.
Jazz looked down, and shook his head. The Specialist knew what Magnus was thinking about. They had both seen the worst in Rodimus down in the tunnels. The images of him deceiving, murdering, and torturing his friends remained fresh in both their minds, even if it had just been an illusion forged from Rodi's mind by Vector Sigma. Magnus was afraid that the combination of fear for Lancer and the immeasurable (to Autobots) pain Rodimus was feeling from her, might cause some of that monster to rise in their young friend.
Still, Jazz didn't like this at all - it seemed like betrayal to him, or at the very least rude. He hated the cold practicality which was becoming more and more a part of their lives and decision making. Eradicating the Quints still hurt Jazz in a way he couldn't really describe. Knowing that all of his efforts scrambling around getting supplies for Rodimus was resulting in human deaths as well didn't help.
Not for the first time recently, he found himself longing for simpler times when the bad guys did all the bad things.
Discussing Rodimus' dirty laundry with the entire council made Jazz feel a bit dirty himself, especially since he and Magnus had gained the knowledge because Vector Sigma had forced it out of Rodi. Maybe if Rodimus had been willing to share it with them it wouldn't seem quite as bad sharing it with their other friends.
That hadn't been the case, however. Rodimus had been angry, and Jazz sensed the anger was fueled by fear, and even shame. Having seen what Rodimus had been through, Jazz still felt badly about seeing the torture, even inadvertently, and increasing Rodimus' burden of pain. The Specialist knew that telling anyone else would only multiply Rodi's sorrow that others knew the horrors the Jabez were capable of.
The Specialist also wondered if they weren't jumping the gun a bit, and if Rodimus would be hurt by their suspicions. Still, Magnus was right, it wasn't worth the risk, and they had promised each other to watch for the dark ones....
Seeking to lessen the damage, Jazz asked, "Optimus...can we talk about this privately?"
Optimus frowned at Jazz. He wasn't surprised so much by the question, as the soul-sickness with which Jazz asked it. Jazz invariably talked with a casual flair, but he had just spoken in a lifeless monotone that told Optimus the Specialist was deeply uncomfortable. Magnus crossed his arms and shuffled his feet a bit - apparently he was none too easy with it either.