Obscurity
-o-o-o-o-o-
Chapter Two: Nobody and Somebody
-o-o-o-o-o-
In the access tower to the Decepticon base, Skids and Grimlock found themselves herded into an elevator with a handful of seekers and the three camera-formers as well at the big shuttle. Skids felt at such unease surrounded by the Decepticon warriors. Ratchet had stripped out almost all of his weapons, leaving him with only a short range stun-field for self-defense. "So... why'd Megs choose you?" boldly asked the lens component of the spy-trio. "You two have some old history?"
"Everyone keeps asking me that. We don't. I don't even know how he knew my name," Skids responded timidly. "Most of my own faction doesn't even know I exist."
"Gotta be something." Even as Grimlock eyed him carefully, Thrust reached over, cupping Skids' head in a strong hand and turned Skids' faceplate toward him. "You're quite handsome, but nothing exceptional. There are plenty of good-looking mechs at the Ark."
"They say you're a theoretician," said another of the spy-trio.
"Nothing that exceptional there either. You sure there's no history?" said the lens component.
Dirge leaned forward. "We're all revving our jets to know why he chose you over so many of the others. I mean, most of us thought he'd ask for one of the officers, or at least someone we'd heard of. And everyone here was like 'Skids? Who's that?' and we had to look you up, but there was hardly anything in your file. We only have record of you being in one battle."
"Though..." Thrust interrupted his trinemate. "We found you had a huge bounty on your head. Turns out it was posted by Megatron himself ages ago. But only good if you were brought in alive. Anyone bringing you in dead would face a criminal investigation. Apparently Meggy's been wanting you for a long time given how long ago this was posted. We would have thought for some information you carried. But this...? His consort?"
The elevator came to a stop and a dark purple grounder stood in the landing before the opening doors. His optics focused on the carriage's occupants, soon singling out Skids. "Please, come with me, Skids," he said soberly. "I am to take you to Megatron's quarters.
The mechs in the elevator jeered. "Have fun, Autobot. Better make the boss happy tonight."
Stepping out, Skids was led down a dark, damp corridor, his blue helm hanging. If they were any longer, his doorwings would have been dragging on the floor. Grimlock followed faithfully behind. The Decepticons had been warned not to antagonize him or get in his way, though most would have done that even without Megatron's cautioning. Despite his seeming dimwittedness they all knew the Dinobot leader was a foe best left unchallenged. They'd all seen Grimlock take careless seekers out of the air simply by nabbing them with that big mouth his alt-mode sported.
At a larger than average door, the mech paused before unlocking it. "Welcome to your new home, Skids," he said, a reserved yet genuine pleasure in his voice.
Skids sighed. Perhaps it was the home of an emperor, but right now it felt like it would be a prison.
The grounder opened the door and led him in. "Megatron asked me to prepare you for his arrival. He's just taking care of a few pieces of business and having a bit of a celebration with the others. Then he'll be in for your personal bonding."
"Of course." A political bonding was made up of four components, unlike the usual two. They'd already been joined politically, titles having been assigned and duties specified. Socially, they were now a married couple and not to be considered available to anyone else. What remained were the usual two steps of most bondings—a sexual and a spiritual connecting.
Skids looked around the chamber, finding it spacious but fairly plain. Several large windows gave a view of the dark oceanscape beyond. A large desk faced the door. An arming wardrobe had been installed into an alcove.
"My name is Herald. I'm Megatron's servant, and yours now as well," the purple grounder introduced himself calmly. "My duty is to look after him and his home here." He turned to Grimlock. "You, Grimlock, as Skids' bodyguard, are allowed to examine these quarters this one time, but afterward are to stand guard in the hallway whenever Skids is inside."
The Dinobot commander cocked his head to the side. "Where me Grimlock to sleep then?"
"You are to sleep outside the door."
"But how Me Grimlock to guard Skids when Him Skids inside?"
"These quarters are safe, as you will find. The berthroom is through there," Herald said gesturing at a large, curtained doorway. "I shall meanwhile be preparing Skids in the washrack here." He said gesturing at a more solid door nearby. He addressed Skids next. "Come," he continued, opening the latter door.
Skids followed him through, finding a washrack beyond. But it was more than just a washrack. There was a shower at the center of the room. An oil bath—large enough for two mechs at a time—occupied a corner. In another alcove was a maintenance table backed up with shelves holding all sorts of personal care supplies. Another door led presumably to the bedroom.
"I've been instructed to wash you and then soak you in the oil bath," said Herald.
"I was bathed very well yesterday. I don't think it will be necessary," Skids pointed out. The grounder was so formal, and his words seemed so carefully chosen.
"I'm just following Megatron's orders. I guess I just won't need to scrub you so much. You do look quite clean." Herald turned on the shower and gave Skids a quick rinse and an examination to check that the apparent cleanliness applied to his insides as well as his outsides. Then he dried him off with a towel beneath the air-jets. Then Skids was helped into the oil, where the grounder began to stretch and massage his joints and cabling. Admittedly that felt very good.
And halfway through the massage, Grimlock entered the bathroom, breaking the peace of the room. "That berth very nice. Very comfortable. Me Grimlock almost fall asleep on it."
Herald scowled. "Are you satisfied with the security of the apartment?" he asked.
"Me think it safe. But Me Grimlock also realize that Him Megatron seem to care about Skids. Him Megatron protect Him Skids."
"Of course he will," affirmed Herald. "Now if I may show you to your post at the door." He patted Skids gently, his tone of voice changing. "I shall return shortly, and then I shall finish your treatment, and administer a small test."
"A test?"
The servant smirked. "One required of all of Megatron's lovers."
Herald rose and led Grimlock out, returning just over a breem later. "That barbarian of a bodyguard of yours was actually in the bed. I had to remake it," he grumbled.
Skids bit back a laugh. "Grimlock means well."
"I'm sure he does."
Herald moved Skids to lie out in a shallower part of the pool so he could work on Skids' legs. And when he was finished, he rose once more. "Just lie there," he instructed, rising and moving toward the storage cabinets. "I'm going to administer the test now."
"The test?" Skids asked, staring up at the tiled ceiling of the room. The colors were all various shades of yellow and gold. Admittedly he actually felt pretty relaxed, lying there in the shallow end of the pool, his face just above the surface. In fact this was the most relaxed he'd felt all day. Herald's careful attentions and gentle mannerisms had somehow squeezed all the tension out of him. This had to be the good part of this strange dream he'd been caught up in since the previous day.
"Megaton is a large mech, in every dimension," Herald said as calmly as ever, opening a cabinet.
"Oh..." Skids suddenly had an idea of what this test might consist of, and his suspicion was confirmed when Herald returned to the pool, an enormous false spike in hand.
Suddenly all the tension went squeezing back in.
-o-o-o-o-o-
The door to the private washrack opened and Megatron walked in, smiling at the scene. Herald and Skids stood on the draining grate, the oil running out of the Praxian's frame, Herald assisting by bending and manipulating the Autobot into various positions. "He's almost ready for you, Lord Megatron," said the servant.
"No hurry. I'm liking the scene." The warlord sat at the small table, took a small cube of high-grade from a pocket, and sipped at it as he watched the preparation of his new consort.
When the dripping all but stopped, Herald fetched a few wiping cloths from a shelf and began to go over the blue frame, polishing away what was left of the oil on the plating. Megatron made no comment, but simply sat, sipping at the cube in his hand but drinking in the sight.
Skids avoided making eye-contact. In fact he avoided looking at Megatron at all. While Ratchet might have other thoughts, he was sure there was nothing but evil in store for him, peace-treaty or no.
"And how did he handle 'the test?' Did he pass?" asked Megatron as Herald finished and began to clear up.
Skids felt sick inside. It had been one thing to try out Megatron's surrogate, but now the whole horror of the coming night was sinking in. It wouldn't be some detached, guiltless toy, but Megatron himself up inside his valve.
"Tight, but workable. You will need to exercise some caution until he becomes used to you."
"As expected," came the answer with a bit of a chuckle. "Are you finished, Herald?"
The grounder nodded.
"Take him to my berth."
"Of course, my lord."
Skids couldn't stop the tears that fell as he was taken through the other door into Megatron's berthroom. There, placed atop a dais like some sort of throne, was a large berth curtained with dark purple drapes and cushioned with the thickest mattress Skids had seen since joining the Autobots. But for him it wouldn't be any sort of throne, but a heathen altar upon which he would be sacrificed for the cause of peace.
Herald noticed the tears as he sat Skids upon the bed. "It's all right. You'll be just fine," he said, pulling out a towel and wiping the beads of optic wash away. "I'll be back in the morning to wait upon Megatron, and you as well."
"You're the nicest Decepticon I've ever met," said Skids, trying hard to hold in the sobs. He felt so alone and ninety-nine and a half light years away from the Praxians on the Ark. He missed Mirage too. At least in Herald he might have someone he could trust.
Herald smiled, and then leaned forward and kissed Skids on the forehead. "Thank you. Now be good to my master. He's been looking forward to this a long time."
"He has?" He thought of the bounty that had been placed on his head and what it might imply.
"Very much so."
Skids straightened, and he spoke quickly. "You must know then! Tell me why he..." Skids was cut off by Megatron suddenly coming into the room and Herald rising quickly to his feet.
"All is ready, my lord," said the servant with a slight bow before moving purposefully out of the room.
Megatron watched him leave and then walked up the two steps of the berth's platform. Skids was unsure of whether he should be terrified or comforted by the Decepticon leader's smile. "So, peace at last between our factions." He sat on the berth and took Skids' hands, kissing them for a fourth time in less than two days. "And at last I have you." His hands moved to Skids' shoulders, grasping them almost possessively.
"Why!?" Skids blurted. "Why did you choose me? You don't even know me. I'm just a minor Autobot. I'm... I'm a nobody really."
Megatron, still smiling, reached up and stroked the side of Skids' head. "I see you don't remember the first time we met... The only time we ever met."
"We've met?" The announcement came as a great shock. This was all so surreal. He'd never even seen Megatron in person until being summoned to the peace talks, unless one counted distantly across a battlefield. And now here he was sitting upon his bed, legally bonded to the monster, about to be fragged to pieces by him.
"I fell in love with you that day, and I've wanted you every since. I've dreamed about having you ever since." He laughed—the sound of it ominous. Megatron rose and went to a cabinet, taking out a decanter of refined oil. He opened the lid, poured a draught into an elaborate metal cup, and took a swallow. "It was never a question for me of wanting anyone else given my options. When I just recently found out you'd been brought to this little planet, I suddenly knew I had a chance at obtaining you. If I had to do it by making peace..." He raised the cup again and drained it quickly, refilled it, and brought it over to Skids. "Here. Drink," he ordered, handing it to him.
"You're mad. We've never met. You must be mistaking me for someone else." Terrified tears formed in his optics once more. He was certainly going to die. He'd just insulted the Decepticon warlord to his face. This certainly couldn't be real, could it? The oil within the cup in his hands nearly sloshed over the rim with his trembling.
"We did meet, Skids. Long long ago. And knowing you were here now... it made me remember things I'd once felt." His hands moved to still the cup. Noticing this, Skids just as quickly downed the contents, but then wished he hadn't when the chemical sensors in his mouth detected a faint presence of Pollon oil.
"We met on Cybertron. Long before the war. Back then, I was a nobody, and you were a somebody," Megatron continued.
"What?"
"I've kept careful track of you since that day. It wasn't easy, not with your name change and the reformatting. It broke my spark when you joined the Autobot faction."
Skids paused, then gasped on realizing what Megatron was referring to.
Megatron took the cup away and then sat beside him on the berth again. "Starflash," he said smugly, his hand moving to tease the edge of a doorwing.
"Star... Starflash..."
"It's been a long time since anyone's called you that, am I right?"
Skids looked at the warlord, trembling all the harder now. "How...? How did you know?"
-o-o-o-o-o-
Obscurity continues in Chapter 3: Starflash
-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Author notes:
Again – This story's mostly G1 with a few IDW elements thrown in. This Skids though is definitely the G1 cartoon Skids—the one who appeared in only two episodes and neither was a "Skids episode" which focused on him. At least he got a few lines. He was definitely one of the most unknown of Optimus' crew. And that's why I chose him for this story. But as Megatron has mentioned and as further chapters will reveal, turns out that once he was anything but obscure.
Pollon Oil – Those of you who have read my story "Queen of Spades" will know the significance of this substance, which played a notable role in that fic. There's also a mention of the oil in "Understood."
-o-
-o-o-o-
-o-o-o-o-o-
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.
Authors thrive on the responses of their readers. If you want to see more works like what you've read, let the author know.
If you'd like to see how this plot plays out, give this fic a 'Follow.'
If you think this story is worth reading again sometime, give it a 'Favorite."
If you found this story interesting or well-written or worth recommending to a friend, leave a review.
If you want to discuss it, or anything else fanfiction, send me a PM. ^^
Thank you!
-o-o-o-o-o-
-o-o-o-
-o-
