Maelstrom Chapter 30
Conversations in a Kitchen: Chapter 1 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. Critiques adored!
Hello again,
I will once again, and hopefully for the last time, beg for indulgence here. This next section is a tough sell. That's because it isn't really a story at first, it's a ...well...let's just say that some chicks put on perfume and eyeliner but I wrote fanfic to land my true love.
This is a Crossover with a TF verse you've never heard of. It was never intended to be part of the Maelstrom mainline...it was written originally for an audience of one. That one would be the guy I married. I lived in Cleveland. He lived in Miami. We met at Botcon Dayton 1994, but we became friends at Botcon Chicago 1995. We sat in a lobby, in front of a big screen TV, kindly provided by the hotel staff, watching TF the Movie till all hours of the morning and laughing like loons.
He explained his version of things to me - heavy on the angst, REALLY heavy on the Magnus, and I nearly died laughing with how similar some aspects of our stories were. He started writing because "Only Human" both intrigued him and pissed him off, just like it did me. We both thought the concept was sorta fun, but the execution was absolutely pitiful. Of course what else could they do in a 20 minute cartoon?
After the con, the phone calls started....and...well... Let's say one of my bills was $900 and getting married was cheaper. But...until we got that far we brain-stormed a lot, and one of the things we "what if'ed" was what his version of everyone would do if my universe paid theirs a visit. I wrote the first 100 pages or so –(yes you read that right) but never quite finished it. When the new TF movie was announced I got sort of juiced and decided, if nothing else, I would get my guys home.
As the story progressed however I realized something. My guys characters needed this....Rodimus in particular NEEDED to gain some distance and some perspective. Events leading into the Crossover are truly awful, even by his standards, and he needs the break. Even more, he's not seeing the forest for the trees as it were, but is unlikely to even notice the trees with his head sunk into the body of the slave trade like some kind of entrenched tick.
Translation: The first 100 or so pages of this are necessary fluff. They are fun (I think) but mostly harmless. The second hundred are the best writing I have ever done up till then, but still fluff...and the third and fourth section are the lead ins to the absolute best, nastiest stories I have ever written - which may or may not be saying something. I've gotten a lot of fan mail up to this point, and the stories I've posted are pretty embarrassing to me - to the point I needed lots of friends bugging me before I got up the nerve to post them. I suppose if the weak work deserves praise (?!) then the stuff I am really proud of might be good for something.
I finally bring back the Cons and sink my teeth into the Matrix, the Jabez, and Vector Sigma. And I kill Danny. That outta be worth the price of admission if nothing else is. You just have to endure 100 pages of fluff first.
OK...brief run down on Mike's universe - which he has written stories for - but they are all on notebook paper. Someday he will post them - they are seriously well written - but I have to let him have some computer time first. Heh. Don't hold your breath.
1. In Mike's verse the Transformers breed and have familial lines (we use human familial relationship terms - i.e. father, mother, brother, etc. - simply because we haven't had the chance to really brainstorm anything else). Optimus and Magnus are half brothers - Alpha Trion is their father. Hot Rod is Optimus and Elita's son - activated since the Autobots got involved with Earth. He's literally 15 at the time of this story.
2. Springer is Ironhide and Chromia's kid.
3. Ultra Magnus was being raised by his mother after she broke off with A3. Their city-state was razed by a Quintisson assault and most of the colonists were killed. Magnus and his younger brother were enslaved by the Quints and eventually were taken to serve as gladiators. Magnus had most of his memories suppressed, and has a fighting style unheard of among the Autobots. His color scheme is black, grey and hematite, and if you think the Magnus from the movie was a stiff you haven't seen anything yet. This guy is a walking mushroom cloud. When he is rescued (By Kup primarily) he is incapable of rational speech and needs to be "tamed" basically. He remains emotionally locked down. Once he comes back to himself, he rockets up the military hierarchy on Cybertron long before anyone even realizes who he is. The Autobot council of Elders pushes him on Optimus because they don't like the lack of progress on Earth and Earth's governments are demanding the status quo with the Decepticons start changing.
Op and Magnus don't much like each other.
4. Bad day at the office = fight with Cons, resulting in an explosion at a research facility. (Like I said, this was Mike's answer to lameness in Only Human.) Magnus, Springer, Arcee, Hot Rod, and Foul Play (a Decepticon jet) end up human. They get dumped at Spike and Carly's cause no one knows what else to do with them. Marissa helps too. They need to relearn to walk, and need to be potty trained. Details of this stuff made me laugh till I cried.
At one point (they are stuck for almost 2 years) Springer over throws a football and Foul Play chases it into the road - into oncoming traffic. Oncoming traffic = Optimus Prime. Magnus pushes her out of the way and gets run over by a semi. Long recuperation = the start of some emotional healing too...and the start of a relationship with Marissa. However, the first night in the emergency room freaks out the others badly. Springer is certain he's gonna be toast for throwing the ball in the first place and takes his anxiety out on Hot Rod. This starts a long bout of teasing Springer gets into the habit of, and eventually Hot Rod just snaps and they kick the snot out of each other. They are patching things up when my guys crash the party.
Foul Play is a nervous wreck for the longest time. She's no coward, but she's in a squishy body in the same house with Ultra Fucking Magnus and it continually surprises her that she isn't dead yet.
Everyone's appearance is fairly straightforward. Magnus pushes seven feet, has light brown hair, and two-toned grey eyes. (Dark rings, light middles) Built. Hot Rod is slightly under six feet tall, red head, BRIGHT Autobot blue eyes, and built more like a sprinter. Springer is blond, green eyes, 6' 8", but weighs nearly as much as Magnus because he's built like a weight lifter.
Arcee and Foul Play are both around 6' tall. Arcee's blonde, dark blue eyes, slim, strong. Foul Play - straight black hair, violet eyes, track runner legs.
The rest is self-explanatory.
Conversations in a Kitchen - Chapter 1
Part A
Getting to Know You
"I can't believe you are doing this to me."
Optimus knew he was supposed to be intimidated by that statement, but it was hard when the speaker was only a little over six feet tall. Rodimus stood with hands on his hips, head cocked to one side with an ironic, if bemused smile on his face.
"Get out of here. If you wait, you're just asking for something to happen, and no, we won't listen to you even if it does." Optimus smiled, but there was a hard edge to his voice. "Do you remember the vacation you sent me and Elita on? This is payback. Besides, Elita doesn't want you anywhere near her until you can remember you aren't the only one who walks silently anymore. It took three hours to restore her paint job after you shot her."
"I didn't shoot her!" Rodi protested. "She dodged."
"If I'd been one iota slower you'd have blasted my head clean through Rodimus Prime! Go away! Rest! Come back with some clarity!" Elita also smiled, but the edge in her voice had icicles in it.
Rodi cursed under his breath, blushing. "I said I was sorry!" he tried.
"GO AWAY!" Optimus and Elita commanded in unison. They'd been practicing.
Lancer grinned appreciatively up at Optimus and took Rodi's hand.
"They have a point Mighty Autobot. Your mutinous army managed to convince you the date was something entirely different and you fell for it."
"Your friends did the same to you."
"True, but I'm in space. The 'Bots hid the real date from you in spite of all the newscasts, paperwork, and everything else. If you're that burned out then something has to be done."
Rodimus stuck his tongue out at her, thought about it, and stuck his tongue out at Op for good measure. "You still didn't need to tell everyone to completely ignore me until I got back from vacation."
Optimus snorted. "Sure I did, otherwise you'd never leave. Besides, you'd be amazed at how many people said, 'Huh? You mean we were supposed to be listening to him? Gee, I never realized!'"
This time Rodimus really did swear and Optimus and Elita laughed at him. Lancer fought it, but only so she could snicker in Rodi's face when he glared at her.
"Traitor," Rodi snarled at his mate. "I can't believe you are going for this either."
"Hey I'm tired too, and when I shoot people, I don't miss!" she simpered at him. Lancer hoisted up her bag. They were packed for a long vacation - a vacation ordered by Optimus and First Aid, and strongly encouraged by her own worried friends. First Aid was complaining about Rodimus' tendency to neglect himself, and the Maelstrom crew were nervous around an increasingly tired and edgy Lancer.
Lancer was nursing a few minor wounds from a rash of recent slaver battles. She was grateful to Marissa for the Captain's ever increasing efficiency uncovering slave-runners, but it meant the breaks the Maelstrom crew was used to between fights were all but eliminated. Before the Autobot alliance, the Maelstrom would often go months while they searched. Now they had no sooner dealt with one operation when Marissa had two more waiting for them. Pagan was in her glory, and nothing ever seemed to ruffle Jordan and Claudia, but Lancer was tired to her bones...and of course no one mentioned Danny.
Rodimus was focusing less on slave runners since Maelstrom had joined them, but he still did some. Most of his time was spent securing Cybertron and researching the bigger fish - the Sponsors. Once in a while though there was a slave ring Maelstrom couldn't get to in time and he took action. In the last month there had been three bloody missions - one on Cybertron. Two on Earth. And of course...there was the hunt for those involved with Danny...and those involved with them...and those involved with them....
The last year had been particularly gory and while Optimus didn't know the specifics, the elder Prime did take notice when his partner took wild shots at Elita when she walked into a room behind him. That incident alone had reduced Rodimus' first reaction to this idea from a full blown tirade to a frail pout. He didn't want to take a vacation, but he had to admit that he needed to. Having Elita sneak up on him worried him. The weirder fact that he'd allowed all of his people to trick him into thinking his "anniversary" was still two weeks off, worried him even more.
Lancer threw another grateful look at their friends - especially Malice, who had Edana and the baby. "You get your vacation when we get back," she whispered in her friend's ear, giving the slim telekinetic a warm hug.
"I will hold you to that," Malice replied, "but you need it more."
Lancer hugged her again, took Rodi's hand and scooped up her teleporter.
The assassin frowned at the device with prejudice. Perceptor and KC had used Maelstrom's technology to figured out how to improve the Jabez designs until they functioned nearly flawlessly, but Lancer's old distrust remained. After all, the last time they'd used the damned thing they'd been marooned for almost a year. However, it was the only way they could show up anywhere without fear of being traced. She told herself she was being silly, and took Rodi's hand again. He smiled the first truly genuine smile she'd seen in weeks, and they activated the system. Destination - South Florida.
Lancer's fears proved entirely too mild.
A trip that should have lasted about five seconds took nearly two minutes. The very atoms of their bodies were stretched single-file between their home and their destination - arriving one at a time through a micro-wormhole and then reassembled on the spot. The process made you feel sick no matter how fast it was, but this time it took even longer than their first marooning.
They landed hard. The pain and exhaustion they had been sent to recover from multiplied ten-fold and both felt dizzy and nauseous. The teleport had taken much too long, so they were momentarily grateful they landed at all in spite of feeling ill...at least until Lancer looked up from the damp grass and saw the sky eclipsed by falling bodies. Too disoriented and sluggish to move in the split second she had, hundreds of pounds of solid flesh landed right on her. The weight crushed the wind out of her and it was several moments before she could even draw enough breath, let alone protest the pounding she was getting. She was too pinned to fight. Her first dazed response was too panic completely, but fortunately Rodimus could see what was really happening. His mental warning keep her from simply blasting her way to the surface.
OK. They weren't attacking her. They were playing football, of all things. That didn't mean she liked where she was. She still couldn't budge, but the writhing heap did move enough to let her pull in a big lung-full of air. Her body wanted the oxygen, but she choose to make another use of it.
"GET THE FUCK OFF ME YOU STUPID BASTARDS!"
Rodimus struggled to get to his feet to help her while the confused pile of people tried to sort themselves out. He was dizzy, and Lancer's shouting wasn't helping her really because the men on top of her kept looking around to see where the new voice was coming from. Rodi finally recovered enough balance to head over and simply pick the smallest person right off the top of the pile. His intention was to set the young man on his feet, but what he saw froze his arm mid-air. He let the person dangle while he gawked.
"Hey! Lemme go," the boy shouted, and then he finally looked at who was holding him. He went limp in Rodi's grasp and gaped.
It was like looking in a mirror, a slightly distorted mirror, but there was no questioning the similarity. The boy he was holding was more slender, had slightly lighter hair, looked only about fifteen, and was pale with shock. It didn't matter. Rodi knew he was holding... himself.
"M..M...MAGNUS!" The boy yelped.
Magnus? Magnus. Definitely. Slightly blonder than the human Magnus they knew, with eyes a two-toned grey, but just as big, solid, and surly of face.
Lancer gasped in relief when he finally untangled his bulk and got up. Seven feet of solid muscle that felt like it was still made out of Cybertronian armor. When that got off of you blood circulated where none had been. Unfortunately the last remaining breathing land mass was almost as big.
"What, Hot Rod?" Magnus said in annoyance as he turned around. He froze when he saw his nephew dangling in the grasp of a very shocked, but disturbingly familiar looking man. For a moment the two red heads wore identical dumb-founded expressions, but the older man's eyes soon narrowed into a grim frown.
"Get the fuck off me!" Lancer said with a snarl, pushing at the last person, who was staring at Hot Rod and Rodimus with his mouth hanging open. The man in question was beefy, blonde, and pushing himself up to crouch over Lancer on his hands and knees. He was staring at Rodimus and she tapped a slightly taloned nail on his spiky head impatiently. His green eyes widened in shock - as if she couldn't possibly be where she was and he still didn't move until she really growled at him. He scrambled away from her quite quickly, and she was wobbling to Rodi's side the next instant.
Lancer could feel her mate's horror, and they quickly tried to sort out what had happened. He had no doubt about who the young man he held was, and unfortunately, he was sure Hot Rod knew who he was too.
Dimensional cross -if we're lucky! Not the way I like to prove Perceptor's mad theories Rodi sent. His mental voice had wild static all through it as implications and consequences roared through his brain. The fate of their children, their war, their worlds, and whatever damage they might do to the people in front of them. Not to mention the possibility that this was some kind of Jabez mind-game and they had fallen into a trap. Lancer shook her head.
Deal with now, she sent back. They both cursed the teleporter, as well as Op and his vacation. Lancer noticed a faint whiff of smoke from her belt, and knew the recall button was out of the question. They were stuck.
Rodimus had surges. He had no idea of the history of this dimension, or if the boy who still swung limp in his grasp was fated to lead a parade, let alone the Autobots. What he did know that if he had known the leadership would fall on his head in advance, he would have bolted in pure terror, never to be seen again. He put his young twin down, and grabbed for their bags.
We have got to get out of here! Rodi's sending to his mate wasn't so much words as an emotional necessity.
Rodi? What are we going to do?
LIE!
"Opps! I told you this wasn't the place," Rodimus said cheerfully to Lancer. "Sorry! Wrong turn! We were looking for the tupperware party! We'll get out now." He flashed them his best "innocent" smile, and then kicked himself. The three open mouths had just dropped another degree... Apparently they had seen that look before.
Should I zap them? Lancer asked mentally.
No! Just back up!
Into the pool?! He hated it when she got facetious.
Oh. Shit! My head's still swimming.
The pool would be a good place for it then, Lancer sent, and then paused. Mine too.
OK. We'll just go around them, Rodimus sent optimistically.
Uh-huh. They started quickly, if shakily, past the three gawkers, trying to make it look casual.
Magnus' mouth shut with an audible snap that went right through Lancer and Rodi. He didn't know what the hell was going on, but he sure wasn't going to let two strangers who magically appeared out of thin air just bluff their way out, particularly the one with Hot Rod's face...sort of. He let them get just past him, and then made a grab for Rodi's arm. Rodimus was expecting something of the sort, but he was still disoriented from the teleport. He moved more slowly than usual, but if this had been their own Ultra Magnus it wouldn't have mattered much. This guy was fast.
"Who are you?" Magnus demanded.
"Robin Leech...let me go."
"I've seen Robin Leech, you aren't him. Nice try," Magnus said, and then froze again. Size alone was usually enough for Magnus to subdue any thought of rebellion, but his captive's eyes had just turned an icy green. The resemblance to Magnus' nephew faded substantially and there was nothing cowed in the man's body posture. Magnus felt the muscles tense, but it didn't feel like the man was about to pull away.
Lancer decided to intervene before Rodi's paranoia about being held got them into even worse trouble. They were here because they were hair-triggered and over-reacting to everything. She was afraid of bloodshed.
"That's yes," she said, tapping Magnus' wrist. The nerves in Magnus' hand suddenly went dead, and Rodimus pulled away.
Run, he finally sent to Lancer.
Duh. They took off as fast as their unsteady legs would carry them, past the house towards the street. The house was familiar too - it had been their destination. The Witwicky's vacation home in Florida - Spike's only concession to the "perks" of being Earth's ambassador to Cybertron. They were in back of the sprawling eight bedroom craftsman-style home Carly had been restoring for years on their own plane. She had called it her hobby, but Rodimus privately suspected that being witness to so much destruction over the years made Carly keen to set things right in at least one place. Normally you would have called such a large estate a mansion but the Witwickies took pains to see their home never took on any air of pretension. It was simple, beautiful, and definitely the same house. Differences were automatically obvious to both of the newcomers though. Some of the remodeling they were used to hadn't been done. The pool was open, not covered. The garden was full of flowers, but no gazebo yet. Also, Rodi's own "remodeling" hadn't been done either. No teleport-sensitive motion detectors. No conversion scanners. No carefully hidden lasers in the flower beds. They didn't pause to examine or wonder about it, but they did stagger with less fear of triggering any defense mechanisms.
Magnus, Hot Rod, and Springer exchanged befuddled looks and took off after them.
Spike opened the side door of his home, and caught a glimpse of two rapidly moving bodies heading his way, with three more in hot pursuit. He didn't even bother to think Oh shit. The strangers dodged around him but they seemed drunk and the diversion slowed them down. Magnus saw Spike but kept coming like a train. He launched into a flying tackle which took down Lancer, Rodimus, and Spike, who was waiting in resignation. Hot Rod and Springer managed to avoid crashing into the pile-up, which Spike regarded as an improvement on his expectations.
"Damn it Magnus! Let us go!" Rodimus snapped, automatically growling orders at someone who looked too much like his City Commander to respond to otherwise. He was already bruised from the initial landing, now he was scraped up too. Worse, Lancer was getting annoyed.
"Who are you?" Magnus asked in a roar.
"Get off! We don't want to hurt you and you don't want to know us," Lancer snarled harshly. By this point, Carly, Arcee, Marissa, and Foul Play had rushed out of the house.(Usually, this much noise meant trouble, amusement, or both.) The visitors found themselves pinned and surrounded.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck," Lancer said. You should have let me zap them, she sent to her panic-stricken mate.
Tell me about it! We have to get out of here! Hot Rod can't know about me!
Lancer propped herself up on an elbow to examine Hot Rod's face. The boy stood behind the others, wide-eye and wan. I think he already does.
"Who are you?" Magnus said again, his voice taking on a cold edge which indicated this would be the last time he'd be asking so nicely. He glared into Rodimus' eyes. Rodimus' mind wasn't so much on the angry man pinning him down as it was on how best to minimize the damage. He looked from Magnus, to Hot Rod, and back. Right now it looked like talk or fight. He didn't want to talk, but as sick as he and Lancer felt it was unlikely they could fight their way free without resorting to some really damaging tactics. There was also something about Magnus. Something hard and deep in the man's eyes which Rodimus understood on an instinctive level. If it came to a fight, this version of Magnus would fight to the death. Rodimus shook his head and prayed for clarity. Then he sighed, and dropped his eyes.
"My name is Rodimus Prime, Autobot Commander," he apologized. Magnus snapped back a bit but only shoved Rodimus harder to the ground. Lancer kept her eyes on Hot Rod's face. He seemed shocked, but not much more than the others. It was a puzzling response which made them that much more cautious. Obviously, there were differences they needed to be alert for when dealing with these people.
"Y..You mean that you're him?" asked the tall blonde with Arcee's voice. They both examined her more closely. Light blue eyes, shoulder-length, casual hair, and Arcee's face. It was hard to tell how tall she was from the ground though.
"No," said Lancer as she pulled herself out from under Spike. "I've had too many men on me today - can we wait to get to know each other better next time? It looks like we've hopped dimensions."
"How?" Marissa snapped suspiciously.
Lancer indicated her slightly charred teleporter belt, "Teleporter malfunction." She looked at her flattened mate. Some vacation.
Yeah. Pretty typical though, sent Rodi. Aloud he said, "Hey Magnus, are we going to stay here like this much longer or are you going to get off me? People will talk."
Magnus stood up with yet another sour glare, and scrutinized the pair before him. The young man's resemblance to their Hot Rod was undeniable. Still the red hair was darker, the blue/green eyes leaned more green, and while the face was very similar it was noticeably older. The most profound difference was his size. "Rodimus" was taller by six inches, and was far bulkier than Hot Rod's whippet-like build.
The woman was also muscular, graceful, and defiant. She wore her blonde hair in a tight, severe braid past her waist. Like her companion, she seemed tired and disoriented. Nevertheless, when Rodimus got to his feet he did it with a practiced grace that Magnus and his friends hadn't quite mastered yet. The woman flipped herself off the ground and stood next to Rodimus and slightly to the rear. Marissa automatically took note of the body language - the woman wasn't following the red-head, she was guarding his back.
Magnus remained very suspicious of their identities, and he could tell the others were too, particularly Marissa. The only one who seemed simply stunned was Hot Rod.
"You're an Autobot? How did you end up human?" Magnus demanded.
Rodimus glared. If this was a Jabez trap...but then if it was they already knew the answer to that question. Still, he elected not to take that question too literally. Even if this really was a different dimension no one would benefit from the gory details. "I can go back and forth at will," he said. The group looked at him in disbelief. He sighed, checked the area for witnesses and clearance, and shifted to Autobot form while Lancer studied the group for their reactions.
6' 1" of tired human male was suddenly replaced by 40+' of tired Autobot, again taller, darker, and bulkier than the Hot Rod they knew but unmistakably of the same design. Rodi tottered a bit and went down on one knee. He felt nearly as ill as an Autobot as he did human.
Hot Rod gawked for about two seconds, shook at the knees, and fell to them. No one managed to move to catch him so he wobbled in the grass looking vacant.
"I think I need to sit down," Magnus whispered, and he did right there.
Rodimus, looking down from on-high snickered to himself, deciding they looked like deranged lawn ornaments.
Spike and Carly were too amazed to have any clear thoughts but the general gist of what managed to form was, Oh great. More of them!
Foul Play was forcibly reminded of all her people's warnings about getting involved with the enemy.
Marissa said, "OK! We believe you! Now can you come down before you blow our cover?" Lancer smirked to herself, things might not be identical, but apparently Marissa could still be counted on to get right down to business. She smiled at her mate as he came back down to their level, and they decided at that moment to play the "just friends" angle again. Things were complicated enough.
Arcee and the last man (who turned out to be Springer) helped get Hot Rod inside. He mumbled anxiously about his legs not functioning. Rodimus offered Ultra Magnus a hand off the ground. Magnus looked at it suspiciously before accepting, and was surprised at how easily the other man helped him to his feet.
"Are you an Autobot too,?" Marissa asked Lancer, eying her curiously.
"No," said Lancer.
Marissa waited for more information, but apparently none was forthcoming. "What's your name?"
"Lancer."
"That's not your real name," Carly exclaimed.
"No. It isn't." Something in Lancer's tone of voice suggested it was time to change the subject. Carly fell back on her southern upbringing as a comfortable standby in times of chaos.
"Won't you both come inside for something to eat while we get all this sorted out?"
Lancer and Rodimus both smiled and accepted. It wasn't easy.
They followed Carly inside. The kitchen, as it was at home, was painted a warm, muted yellow and accented with dark wood cabinets and dark granite counter-tops. Antiques and simple art lined the walls and cabinets. It was warm, homey, familiar and a place this Carly's alternate was unlikely to ever see again. It broke their hearts.
The group filed in and found places to sit or lean. The assassins were not surprised when the first thing Carly did was pull out an enormous box of bandages. She insisted Rodimus sit down at the table. Lancer leaned on the counter next to him and took note that Magnus flanked his other side. She tried not to smile when Marissa slipped up beside her. Neither Magnus nor Marissa made any attempt to be subtle about it. The newcomers were obviously under guard.
Carly clucked over her husband's skinned palm. While she worked she asked Rodi, "Didn't you need lots of bandages around when you first became human?" she asked.
"I think I can safely say yes to that one," Rodimus said. Lancer sent him quelling irritation. They couldn't afford to play around with the truth. They wondered how much they should tell these people. At least Lancer's furtive conversion scans came up negative. No one here had been converted. It was pretty clear the humanized Autobots hadn't been tortured as Rodimus had, which left Lancer wondering how they HAD been changed. That left the visitors with the dilemma of how much to tell these people about what basically amounted to a version of their possible future. They were so busy sending these worried musings back and forth that Rodimus was surprised when Carly approached him with a sizable bandage.
He drew away from her instinctively.
"Don't you want that cut covered?" Carly asked worriedly. The Autobots she was used to couldn't wait to have the slightest cut wrapped under as many bandages as one could sanely apply to a given area. The sight of blood didn't panic them as much as it used to, but they were never too thrilled to see it. Rodimus was actively bleeding, a fact he was oblivious to.
"Uh..." he said, trying to figure out where he was hurt. Lancer helped him by sending the view she had of a four inch gash extending down his right forearm where Magnus' tackle had driven him into the pavement. He lifted his arm to look at it and grunted in surprise. "Oh...yeah. Go ahead." Lancer crossed her arms and glowered.
Hot Rod shook his head, took a long look at his alternate, and passed out on the kitchen table. Lancer had to suppress a laugh, not at Hot Rod as much as Rodi's vague disgust at his alternate's reaction.
Oh give him a break, it's totally understandable. You give your own friends the creeps sometimes, how do you think he feels?
Rodimus returned Lancer's sending with the mental equivalent of muttered curses while Carly fussed over his arm. She went to great pains to assure him it would all be fine in a few days, and he gave her an amused chuckle.
"I know. I'm fine Carly, don't worry."
There was a long awkward pause.
"You know my name," Carly said in sudden surprise, realizing that there really hadn't been any introductions. "There is someone like me where you come from?"
"Very much like you, actually, yes. In fact, I think I recognize everyone except for you," Rodimus said, smiling at the last woman. She was tall, strong, and had nervous violet eyes with an exotic tilt. The black cascade of hair down her back rippled a bit as she drew back and peered suspiciously at him.
She frowned and introduced herself, wondering what his response to her name would be. For all she knew they could be the bitterest of enemies. She was a bit chilled when she got the one reaction she didn't expect at all, none whatsoever. "My name is Foul Play. I'm a Decepticon," she said with a certain proud defiance.
Lancer and Rodimus exchanged a brief glance but didn't seemed shocked or outraged. Instead, Rodimus seemed concerned when he met Foul Play's eyes and shook his head slightly. They didn't know her at all, and for some reason this disturbed Foul Play. Lancer and Rodi sensed this even though she tried to conceal it. They attempted to make her feel better. The war with the Jabez had long since over-run Rodi's ingrained hatred of the 'Cons.
"It's very possible you do have a twin in our reality Foul Play. We don't know of many female Decepticons. They have been scattered a long time and are even rarer than Autobot females," Rodimus said gently. The scarcity of females was something so eternal and pervasive that Rodimus never considered it might be otherwise here. Fatigue poisons from the teleport made it difficult for him to dodge the assumptions he always tried so hard to avoid.
Their hosts looked confused and stared at them, even to the point where Arcee and Carly stopped fussing over Hot Rod. Lancer and Rodimus shared a sinking moment and mutually vowed to quit putting their feet in it.
"Females can't be THAT rare," Magnus said skeptically, "Your mother obviously exists." He felt he had just caught these invaders in a lie. Hot Rod finally came around and stayed up, he stared at Rodimus groggily from the other end of the table. Lancer smiled a little as she watched him swaying slightly with his elbows propping him up on the table. He looked drunk.
"My what?" Rodimus asked Magnus.
"Your mother. Elita One, she has to exist. Why would you say females are rare?"
Rodimus decided he wasn't hearing properly, had to be the teleport.
"My what?"
Hot Rod sat up a little straighter in confusion. "Don't you know your mother?" he asked, feeling a little sorry for his twin.
"H..Have you guys been adopting human familial titles or something? If so, I never met Elita until I was mature," Rodimus explained. Lancer snorted and he grinned at her. "OK. At least as mature as I ever got, anyway. She's a good friend but I've never regarded her as a parental figure, even figuratively." Why was it that this didn't seem to ease any of the obvious confusion of the people sitting around him? They were all still staring.
"Um...maybe they never told him or something...?" Springer whispered unsuccessfully to Arcee.
Rodimus looked into their uncomfortable faces. Things were beginning to slowly dawn on him and Lancer.
"You don't mean she's literally his mother?" Lancer's voice held a world of disbelief, as well as something more.
"Of course! Did something happen to separate you from your parents Rodimus?" Magnus wanted to know. For the first time there was some compassion in his voice.
"Parents? I'm almost afraid to ask this, but who would you assume to be my supposed father?"
"Why, Optimus Prime of course."
Carly flinched as Rodi's falling chair made marks on her floor. Lancer had chosen to stand, but that only made her immediate collapse that much more painful to witness. Of course, it was hard to feel too sorry for two full grown adults doubled up laughing. Lancer had actual tears rolling down her cheeks, and Rodimus held his gut in obvious pain.
Hot Rod's incensed "HEY! What's wrong with my parents?" did nothing to help them breathe.
"Nononono," Rodimus groaned. He tried to draw a real breath, looked at Hot Rod's offended face, and lost it completely all over again. Springer and Arcee apparently decided they were crazy, Foul Play looked disgusted over this inane display, and Ultra Magnus studied them as if they were an interesting new form of life. Spike and Carly had long since given up on any sort of sanity in their household, and merely waited for the fit to pass. Marissa smirked.
When the laughter finally did pass it was more because they were too tired to keep it up any longer than because the amusement faded. Rodimus loved and respected his partner and Elita, but the very idea of them as his parents was beyond anything he could imagine. He gasped, wheezed and finally got himself under control. Lancer was wiping the tears from around her eyes, and he saw a suspicious tremor run through her, but her control held.
"Do you mean to say Optimus and Elita are NOT your parents?" Magnus asked sharply.
"I'm an Autobot! I don't have parents at all! " Rodimus said as though the fact were obvious.
"How is that possible? How can you exist without parents?" Hot Rod wanted to know, not that the idea didn't have a certain attraction. He tried to imagine life without parents, and uncles too.
"We are programed by Vector Sigma," Rodimus said.
"Who?"
"You don't know Vector Sig...oh never mind. It's the computer which programs and activates us all, Autobots and Decepticons alike," Rodimus explained.
"That's it? That's cold," Arcee said.
Rodimus stopped for a second and thought about it. He had to agree with her, and tried briefly to imagine the state of his world without Vector Sigma's manipulation. "You have no idea," he told her.
"Well," Magnus said coldly. "You're going to give us one." The interrogation began.
Continued in Part B.