Title: Consort 4 - Vector Speaks
Author: Femme4jack
Rating: NC-17
Continuity: AU Multi-continuity Fusion Madness (in other words I'm picking and choosing stuff I like and totally making slag up)
Characters & Pairings: Optimus Prime x Mirage, Jazz, Prowl, Ratchet, Vector Prime.
Summary:Optimus is visited by an ancient Prime he has never encountered before.

Notes:For White Aster for her winning bid on the FandomAid Help Somalia Auction on livejournal. Thanks for the delicious prompt and for your generosity!

Dialog dialog dialog. So much f-ing dialog this chapter. But the weird multiverse bunnies that I thought I had successfully caged last chapter actually were breeding and insisted on having their merry way this chapter.

Chapter Warnings: smut (mech/mech oral, sticky), references past valve injury sustained during interfacing of very dubious consent, references noncon fantasy.


The Matrix was strangely quiet as Optimus floated through what this time appeared as a vast, empty expanse of the astral plane. His predecessors, normally so ready to offer him all manner of advice and recollections, were not making themselves known in the void. Perhaps, he reasoned, they did not need to.

He no longer needed their memories to lure him. He was generating enough fantasies on his own without their help, and their silence was likely that of spectators as his every lurid desire played out in his processors. The void around him filled with images of Mirage, bound and spread upon the berth in the brig, panels retracted and chest plates open, sometimes begging his Prime to take what he needed, and other times pleading with him not to because he belonged to another. Either way, Prime took, repeatedly.

After the mutuality of his now severed cohort bonds, the idea of what amounted to a personal slave, whose entire function was to please him, should have been repugnant. Optimus had never reconciled himself with the privileges assumed to come with his Primacy. Granted, the war had made most of those privileges implausible to begin with. But even during the brief time they had been an option, when he had been told that refusing to enjoy what was rightfully his was tantamount to blasphemy to the mecha who worshiped him as Primus-in-metalum, he had resisted.

Optimus had never wanted anything more than the fulfillment of enjoying his function and the cohort he shared it with, a life that had ended for him with Megatron's attack on the energon docks. He apparently had consented to his fate during his merge with Alpha Trion, but he had no memory of the time between the attack and the moment he onlined in agony during his metamorphosis. Not that he doubted. Orion Pax had not been a mech to shirk from his duty, even if it meant losing all that he had been so content with. That duty was not to be the pampered and pliant figurehead the Council and Emirates desired him to be, but, as Alpha Trion had taught him, to lead with his spark, strengthened, but not controlled, by the power of the Matrix.

As to the decadence and luxury that came with the Primacy, he found it universally revolting. His brief residence in the palace, with its legion of servants attempting to attend to his every need, had been the loneliest vorn of his functioning, and Optimus had gladly ordered the complex, along with its staff, to be commandeered for a hospital and refugee center once he had successfully asserted himself over the Council.

Yet, if he had never desired the spoils of his position, why was he now imagining himself summoning Mirage with a casual wave of his hand? Why was the elegant and exquisitely shaped consort adorned suggestively with precious minerals and crystals imported from distant colonies? Why did his field and interface throb in anticipation as Mirage reverently approached to kneel between his massive legs while Optimus reclined on the never-used throne and patiently listened to the petitions of mecha both humble and great? Why, as he intoned his decisions to the orn's supplicants, were his fingers stroking Mirage's nemes-shaped vents possessively as his consort worshipped his spike with skilled glossa and nimble hands? Why did he casually drizzle some costly Vosian high grade from his finely etched cube onto his rigid interface so Mirage could lap it up a reward? The scene was the embodiment of all he had rejected.

"Are you always this self-sacrificing and hard on yourself, Optimus? He appears to be enjoying himself rather thoroughly, if you ask me." The words came from one of the supplicants whose appearance was rapidly changing. The now towering mech approached the dais and looked at Mirage's efforts with frank admiration as the visible evidence of the building charge began to arc in luminous blue flashes across the high-forged mech's face and up his arms.

Optimus's optic feeds were beginning to fritz as his systems progressed toward overload, but he dimly noted the approaching frame, covered in ancient glyphs and filigree, and the red cloak with a jade black lining that seemed to be filled with stars and obscured parts of the massive mech in palpable shadows. Optimus offlined his optics and chose to ignore the new Prime for the moment, for clearly that was who had appeared among the anonymous supplicants. If the ancient one wished to be a voyeur, then let him. This was his own fantasy, no matter how inappropriate. Finishing his high grade and setting it aside, he gripped Mirage's vents with both hands and with a low rumble, urged him to increase the pace. The charge grew with an audible deep and rhythmic thrum in his chest, and soon his audials were deaf to anything but his the loud buzz of his own pleasure. Torrid heat pooled low within him, and suddenly every system surged as the current rushed into his reservoir, energizing the transfluid to flood through his spike in a brilliant release.

Optimus caressed the finely shaped helm in thanks, and felt his consort smile around his spike and hum in response. He finally turned his attention to the ancient Prime who was patiently waiting and watching with no small amount of amusement flickering in his field.

"In my dreams, it seems that I am anything but self-sacrificing," Optimus finally responded to the mech's initial statement, glancing down at Mirage who was cleaning him with languid kisses. "We have not yet met."

"Indeed, you do not know me," the star-cloaked Prime said in a voice that was soft, yet ripe with power. "I am Vector, and my function is to watch and record. I only interfere when the fabric of space and time itself is at risk, though most are not even aware of my interventions. I speak to few, and appear to fewer, though recently I have had many long and enlightening conversations with the mech who made you what you are today. Now the time for silence has ended. I have been watching you, assessing your suitability for the task ahead."

Optimus frowned. There were no records of Vector in the archives, though the ancient mech felt far different from those who had been deliberately expunged from the histories or those that had not been Primes in his own dimension. "What task are you speaking of? Something to do with the war?"

"I deliberately removed the traces of myself when I became the guardian of space and time," Vector answered the unvoiced question. "And your task does have something to do with a war, but one far more ancient than the skirmish you are currently fighting."

"You call the war with the Decepticons a skirmish? When a quarter of the mecha on Cybertron have extinguished as a direct result of the violence and hardship?"

"A skirmish, yes," Vector agreed. "Your civil war is but a small family quarrel compared to what is coming. I have been watching both you and your adversary, attempting to determine which of you is better suited to face the trials ahead."

As Vector spoke, he reached out and fondly stroked the delicate sensor winglets on Mirage's back as the noble continued his ministrations, oblivious to anything but his own Prime. Optimus gave a low growl of displeasure at the touch and placed his own hands firmly on Vector's wrists and pushed them away. The ancient Prime smirked and took a step back.

"You used Mirage," Optimus said with a flash of realization that tended to come to him in his meditations.

"Use him? I suppose you could say that I did. I became a part of him and observed two potential champions through him. I was with Alpha Trion when Mirage was forged, and placed a portion of myself within your consort's spark. Every eventuality in his functioning led to him serving both you and Megatron, and choosing to betray one for the benefit of the other. It was not clear to me whether the better outcome in the end was for you or Megatron to wield the Matrix when your true enemy strikes, but I knew that he who ended up with it would be better off with Mirage at his side, so I was poised to intervene to ensure that, if need be. Those of us who protect the fabric of the multiverse do not have the privilege of working only through those who are noble and kind, Optimus. And your war, as pointless and fratricidal as it is, can serve to prepare those who will need to fight something far worse than their own kind."

Optimus felt himself become agitated within his meditations, wanting to violently reject Vector Prime's words. The idea that the suffering of Cybertron's population was simply a means of honing them for some worse conflict was repugnant to him, as was the manipulation and use of Mirage. It went against everything Prime valued about the freedom of sentient beings to create their own destiny and not have it determined by those who would abuse their power.

Mirage felt his agitation, and responded by revealing a container of polish, along with rare organic chamois. With tender care, the consort began to polish his Prime, starting with his pedes. The scent that soon permeated the chamber revealed the polish to be exceedingly rare and precious, from a world long gone. He had been polished with it once before, upon his formal ascension as Prime. Afterwards, he had ordered the entire supply to be sold to spoiled towerlings and the funds used to help Cybertron's growing number of war refugees. Now, Optimus felt himself melt into the tender care of the hands that were tending him and offering him a priceless gift.

"Who is this enemy you speak of? What is coming?" Optimus finally asked when he was calm enough to continue. "What is such a threat to the multiverse that you would give the Matrix so someone as cruel as Megatron? You have seen what he does with simply the power of his own frame and spark."

Vector looked at the rhythmic, soothing movements of Mirage's hands rather than at his counterpart's optics, and spoke gravely and without a trace of the casual amusement that had been hinted in his voice before. "Who is coming is Nemesis Prime, Optimus. The one you know as Nova. In a different universe from this one, he was drawn to a singularity in the Benzuli Expanse while on his mission of conquest. Through it, he entered the dead realm, whose powers desire to consume every living universe. A power of anti-life found him there, and he bonded with it willingly, becoming a portal between the dead universe and the living multiverse. In that dimension, the Matrix was changed to something completely dark. It reverberated through the multiverse and corrupted the Matrixes in the other dimensions as well, including this one. The forces Nemesis has allowed to cross into the living realms have already consumed several other universes. I have tried and failed to stop the destruction each time. In this one, I foresee that Nemesis and those whom he is but a harbinger of can possibly be halted. The Matrix is not so corrupt here, and despite all of Nova's efforts, you have been able to use it as the tool it was intended to be."

"How has it been corrupted? What has changed" Optimus asked.

"The Matrix is a conduit between the physical universe and the powers and energies that are beyond the physical. The corruption of Nemesis acts as a filter. It attempts to allow only the cruelty to filter through, while blocking the compassion and wisdom you seek. In your case, it allows memories of what you fear to become, and tries to convince you that this is what you already are. Yet, you have successfully used that as a crucible against which to test yourself, and have managed still to find in it the strength and wisdom you need."

"Is there any means of fixing it? Any way for it to be what it was meant to be?" Optimus suddenly sounded small and tired.

"Perhaps, Optimus. If Nemesis is defeated, if the portal his existence has created between the dead realm and the multiverse is shut, then, perhaps each Prime who comes after you will continue to heal it with their own sparks."

"And you believe I am the one meant to have the Matrix, to fight what is coming," Optimus concluded flatly.

"I did not say that," Vector cautioned. "The eventualities are too unclear. In some dimensions, the champion most definitely must be Megatron. In others, clearly you. In others still, another arises after you and Megatron have succeeded in destroying one another. But I believe this reality is the key, and it is the one in which the choice is most unclear."

"How will you go about deciding, then, since you have done this before?" Optimus asked impatiently. "The Matrix in Megatron's hands will mean the death of thousands, perhaps even millions whom he considers weak and unworthy of functioning. Do you expect me just to give it to him because you say so? Or will you use Mirage again to give Megatron some advantage so he might rip it from me?"

"I cannot say how I have intervened or decided in other universes, Optimus. But those actions cannot guide me, as there is no clear way for me to make the choice in this dimension. I have become so very fond of Mirage. He was created to be the perfect consort to the Prime, so I have decided to trust his choice between the two of you. Mirage is aware, in his spark, though not his processors, of the struggle that is coming. He has chosen you, so I will trust that you are the wisest choice."

Optimus pulled the dreamscape Mirage to his lap, holding him close for the kind of comfort he did not allow himself in waking function. "It was cruel to make him such a slave to his coding, to make him suffer," he said. "You say he made his choice, but I am uncertain he had any choice in the matter."

"And that is where you are wrong, young Prime. He was coded with a function that allows him a level of flexibility unknown to others. He can completely recode himself without losing himself, because who he is, at spark and core function, is flexibility itself. With the knowledge of the coming conflict that is in his spark, he could very well have chosen Megatron, could have easily convinced Megatron to bond with him, and offered your enemy an advantage that would have eventually won him the Matrix. The conflict in Mirage's coding offered him a choice, and he chose you. You are the one he wishes to mold himself around, and with his help, my hope is that you will keep the Matrix, and face the greater struggle that is to come."

Optimus offlined his optics, focusing only on the fine lines of mech on his lap, allowing himself to give in to his desires to stroke the perfect frame possessively, to drink in the pleasure of having another living spark who was utterly his. He was suddenly overwhelmed with a surge of protectiveness. Vector might have helped create Mirage, given him a part of his spark and used him to decide how to intervene, but Mirage belonged to Optimus, not the ancient, meddlesome Prime. With a low growl, he looked up at the other Prime and flared his field in challenge.

"Never fear, Optimus. I am finished here. He is yours, though I hope you remember that fact when you online, because I cannot allow you to recall this conversation. You must face what is to come without undo influence from me. It is your spark that must guide you, and there is much you must still face before your final test. A part of me will be with you in your consort, and when the time is right, if needed, I will intervene again."

"Then why tell all of this to me, if I am destined to forget?" Optimus snapped, becoming steadily more waspish. Mirage began placing a trail of kisses along the seam in his chestplates to distract him from his aggravation.

"Oh, just because you forget does not mean you will not be influenced by what has been said, Optimus. Surely you know by now, from what you have seen and experienced in this place, that memory files are but the smallest force that shapes and guides us."

Optimus tried to respond, but the way the mech on his lap was moving against him gave plenty of motivation to ignore and forget about the manipulative glitch who was disappearing into his starlit cloak.


Optimus sat with Prowl, Jazz and Ratchet in his office, forcing himself not to fidget in the face of his deep discomfort with the topic of their conversation. It did not help that Ratchet had been vocally livid at the damage that had been done to Mirage's valve while in custody and had used his CMO override to demand the truth from the other officers while Optimus had been sequestered in his quarters dealing with his own fallout. Needless to say, the Medic had neither been understanding nor forgiving.

"There must be some other way to resolve this," Optimus said. "Some way to remove the consort coding and allow him a choice."

"Prime, both Ratchet an' I've looked as deeply in him as we dare. His code is as complex and conflicted as anything I've seen, an' we only could see it cause he let us. I've scanned him plenty of other times in Ops debriefings, an' before now, I've only ever seen whatever profile he was usin' at the time. The only way you're gonna rid him of the consort coding is t' reformat him completely, an' since he has no desire t' be anything other than what he is..."

"It would be an even worse violation of his personal agency," Ratchet finished the statement, deliberately emphasizing the word violation.

"You said he has overcome the loyalty coding regarding his House and Megatron. Why is he still so conflicted?" Prowl asked, deliberately steering the conversation away from the Medic's current irate anger with his Prime.

"He's overcome it, yeah, enough t' be able t' show Prime what was really happenin'" Jazz explained. "But now he's in the same position he initially was with ole Megs. With all he's gone through, he'll be inherently unstable 'til he finally bonds and can piece together some of those profiles to become his core personality matrix."

"So we are left with the choice of a complete reformat, against his will, essentially destroying who he is, or him bonding with a mech who violated him," Ratchet stated bluntly.

"Lay off him, Ratchet," Jazz snapped, clearly at the end of his patience with the CMO's accusations. "Ya know's well as I do that Prime would never purposefully damage someone that way. You scanned Mirage. You know he was willin', and Prime here's as messed up by all this consort codin' as Mirage is, an' ya know how easy it is to lose any kind of control in a merge."

"No, do not lay off me," Optimus countered. "Ratchet is completely within his rights. I should have maintained control in that merge. That is what a Prime spark is supposed to be capable of in an interrogation when aided by the Matrix. I allowed myself to be swept away in the allure of Mirage's willingness and loyalty, and I lost control, and no one is responsible for that other than myself. I violated a mech who has risked his life and the wellbeing of his entire House for me, and who has suffered in unimaginable ways due to my impact on his own coding. The fact that on top of everything else that has taken place, I intimately damaged him is unforgivable."

Ratchet gave a nod of satisfied agreement with Prime's assessment while Jazz muttered something about glitched fraggers who insisted on applying electro whips to open wounds. Optimus ignored them both and turned toward Prowl "It is the risk to his House that I am most concerned for now. Sooner or later it will become clear to Megatron that he has lost his agent, and he will strike against Mirage's House ruthlessly, and may use it as an excuse to destroy the Towers of Crystal City altogether, the way he did in Kalis."

"Lord Xeon made his choice when he attempted to secretly ally himself with Megatron," Prowl said calmly. "We cannot be responsible for the consequences, nor can we afford to protect towerling privilege. Too many of the Emirates are deliberately playing both sides to their advantage while this world literally crumbles around them. Even if they do not choose to align themselves, they could at least be putting their resources toward helping the refugees from Kaon, Vos, Praxis and Kalis and those of their own states who are starving."

Optimus vented and dimmed his optics momentarily as he considered the issue at hand, tapping his fingers together. When he looked at his officers again, he spoke with a tone of quiet resolution.

"The other members of Mirage's House are not responsible for the choices Xeon made, nor are they responsible for Mirage's decision to betray Megatron. However, I also agree that we cannot spare the resources to protect privilege when there are far too many others with no resources and no personal enforcer cadres. Xeon will be taken into custody, but his House will have fair warning that the game is up, and will be offered refuge in Iacon or on one of the other protected bases, provided they are willing to work for their keep assisting other refugees. Considering that we now know that Xeon has been a major source of Megatron's funding, it is a generous offer. The same offer should go to the rest of the Houses as well. We know Xeon is not the only Emirate who has been attempting to play this war to his own advantage. It is a dangerous game. We can offer refuge from it for those who choose to stop playing or who firmly align themselves with us. We will defend any city state that is attacked to the best of our abilities, but no special protections will go those cities' elite."

Everyone nodded their agreement to the proposal. "I'll draw up plans and bring them to you for your approval," Prowl said, his posture and sensory panel angle indicating his impatience to start that task.

"Boss," Jazz added, "before we break up this party, we need t' make a call on whether t' spring the trap Mirage laid with that slag he fed the 'Cons, or we need t' find a way to make sure they know the plans were changed. The first is better for us, but the second'll allow us more time to get targeted populations in defensible locations."

"Who do we stand to take out if we spring the trap?" Optimus asked.

"Given the nature of the false operation Mirage fed them? I give Megatron sending at least one of his top lieutenants a 76.9% probability," Prowl replied, already running other calculations. "Given what Mirage has already told us of his previous patterns, I would say that we have at least a three decaorn before Megatron realizes anything is amiss with Mirage, more if he can continue to play the part of double agent for a time."

Optimus again considered his choices, and when he finally spoke, it was resolute. "Most of the mecha in Mirage's house are innocent of their lord's misdeeds. Jazz, find a way to have the Decepticons find out that we have cancelled the operation for plausible reasons that do not incriminate Mirage. I want to give Mirage's House as much time as we can to seek refuge. You are both dismissed," Prime said, looking from his lieutenants to the CMO. "Ratchet, remain here, please."

The two officers exchanged glances as they left, while Ratchet sank in this chair.

"Ratchet, I must meet with Mirage to explain to him his choices and what we understand of his coding, as well as what we are offering to his House. I would like for you to be present. I clearly cannot trust myself."

Ratchet had the decency to look uncomfortable. "Optimus, I understand enough about the consort code and what you experienced in that merge to know you did not harm him intentionally, and he does not consider it a violation, though I'm not sure his protocols gives him much choice in that considering he is coded to give you..."

"He is coded to offer me whatever I desire, which is unconscionable," Prime interrupted. "I would put Lord Xeon and Alpha Trion both on trial for it if it were not such a firmly established tradition in Towers culture and the Primacy itself. But none of that changes the fact that he was a suspect in custody, and instead of a distanced, impersonal merge to assess the situation, I lost control, and when I disengaged from the merge, I was already injuring him. That was never my desire, but it happened nonetheless. The fault is entirely mine. And now... I must offer to bond with him to stabilize his own code, knowing that there will be potential to lose control every time..." Optimus's voice trailed off, and he looked down at his own hands miserably before continuing in a near whisper. "There is a reason I do not take lovers, Ratchet. I have been bombarded with images and desires of the worst of my predecessors from the orn I took the Matrix. They have infected me. I do not trust myself."

Prime's misery finally seemed to touch something in the medic, who stood and walked over to stand next to the mech who had been his friend long before he had been his Prime. He placed his hand on the larger mech's hunched shoulder. "I've fixed plenty of injured valves of willing lovers who simply interfaced too enthusiastically. I know you did exactly as he wanted you to do. I saw that much when I scanned him. I'm angry that you lost yourself in an interrogation merge, not that his valve needed to be retooled. That is going to happen from time to time with any mecha who are as differently sized as the two of you are, no matter how careful you are."

Prime nodded mutely, but still did not look up. Ratchet vented and squeezed the other's shoulder tighter. "He is coded to be what you truly desire, Optimus. We can't change that without totally reformatting him, which would be kinder to you in the end considering the ethical pit this is putting you in. But Optimus, Mirage being what you desire doesn't mean feeding the fantasies of the slaggers who came before you. What do you truly want for him and for yourself?"

"I want him to be free, Ratchet. I want him to be able to make his own choices."

"If that is what he sees in you, when you bond with him as your consort, that is what he'll be."