Fandom: Transformers G1 season 1 + The Ultimate Guide
Pairing: Megatron/Ezara, Skywarp/Ezara
Rating: R for Violence, NC-17 M/F
Codes: Het, BDSM, Public Sex
Writers: Rauhnee Ranshanka, Karl Wolfemann and Otter Foxfire
Summary: Soundwave faces yet another radical change in Ezara's mindscape, and she takes far more from it than he ever expected. But it is when Megatron enters her mind that the real surprises hit.
Wanderer's Home 10: A Change of Mind
When Soundwave appeared in Ezara's mindscape with his cassettes he had to take a moment to assess her again. The stable space had expanded once again. It now exceeded the horizon, and ran deeper than he could sense. Even the locked memory blocks had been incorporated into the worldscape. They were deep, beyond the palace and behind even more locks and security walls that he was sure she did control.
Even more than the physical nature, though, was that it was now full of sound; the hum and buzz of life in an energy-filled world-city. Music poured from clubs and homes, but stronger than it all was the background song of her mind. Militant. Aggressive. Strong. Everything she likely was in her prime.
It was strange; he had her full cooperation, he would break her down, yet every time she was turned loose for a day or two because she could not take any more without shutting down, she came back far stronger than before.
"It's the energy," she said as she formed her robotic self, far more decorated and military than before, near him. "Each time you turn me loose, I gorge on energy. Once I hit a certain level, the rest goes into repairs. The Burma crystals are good for far more than weapons, at least for me. They fueled the rebuilding you see."
"Progress: unlocking memories?" Soundwave asked as he assessed and accessed her current state and the unsettling fact that she had read his thoughts.
"Other than being even more secure than before, nothing," she told him. "I have control over the new security, but no progress on the old stuff. It's still treating me like the enemy."
"Results of building: How much control?" Soundwave asked as he considered what he was looking at. If he had not been sure she wasn't an intel-bot before, he was now. This mindscape was that of a warrior, one that was accustomed to dominance and victory. It held more than a minor resemblance to Optimus Prime once he filtered for the difference in cultural background.
"I can influence it if I try, but I haven't bothered yet," she told him. "It's been more informative when I let it build itself."
"What have you learned?" he asked her.
"I like loud music, going fast, fighting and rending things to shreds," she summed it up. "Fight hard, play harder, mix the two as often as possible."
"Show me the music," Soundwave ordered as he waved his cassettes off to explore the new mindscape and find what treasures had solidified in the last few days.
She smiled eagerly and transformed into her sleek, rounded hovercar mode. "Hope in," she opened the side in front to show a compartment. He transformed and dropped into the seat before she took off at speeds that would make the Seekers take note. Upside down, vertical, used buildings and the underside of the roads as often as the surface.
The music overlay pick up as her speed did, encouraging her acrobatics as she dropped from the bottom of one roadway onto the surface of another stories below. He heard as much as felt the pulse of her energy pick up.
By the time she finally skidded to a twisting stop in front of a brightly light and decorated facade she was all but vibrating with excitement, and only barely waited for Soundwave to get out before transforming to her robotic self in a flourish.
The club was filled with a deep, resonating drumbeat and a faster paced tempo on the keyboard and strings and the flash of colored spotlights sweeping around the dance floor. It was full of shadows, robotic mechs and femmes of her kind, but she didn't care. She wasn't there for the people, or the drink it was set up to serve. That was just atmosphere, a shadow in the background to make it a little more true to life. Even before they had entered, she was swaying to the beat, and now that they were enveloped by it she let herself go, moving on the impulse of the music and all but oblivious to anything else.
Soundwave studied the sounds, picking out what was memory and what was improvised before he walked to the stage and joined the shadow-bots playing there to take over the band. It was not lost on him that except for her quarters, every place she remembered well had sound as a central aspect, and three had music.
She was not founded on sound, as he was, but any mind so attuned to it was all but custom-made for his manipulation. He continued to modulate the music, picking up on subtle desires, violence and lust for power, and amplifying them, driving her into a frenzy she had no desire to resist.
"Lord Megatron," Ezara spoke with a low, cold tone that caught everyone in the control room by surprise, even more so that it carried no challenge despite the commanding personality behind it.
"Now that is someone Megatron's going to want," Thundercracker smirked, enjoying the similar reactions of his wingmates to the idea of the alien and their leader together.
When Megatron looked over his shoulder at her new demeanor, his expression seemed to back up Thundercracker's assessment as he turned fully to face her. "I see Soundwave has made progress with you."
"A great deal," her smile almost mirrored his in cool satisfaction. "I have finished your new mace and shield, My Lord," she said and brought the mace forward. The ruby glittered in the artificial lights and pulsed with internal power as she offered it flat on both hands.
"Excellent," he nodded, taking it and considering the weapon. It was less convenient than his energy-flail, but it had other advantages, as he'd seen when she'd put Starscream on his tail with the quality of her weapon as much as her skill with it. "Good balance; you're familiar with this style of weapon," he said, as much as asked.
"Yes, My Lord," she all but purred at the praise. "They are a favorite in the arenas. Your shield," she slipped the large oval, nearly half her height, from her back and presented the absolutely vicious collection of spikes and blades to him before flipping it around to actually hand it over. "There are supplies on this world for several hundred, if you have any warriors who would use them well."
"Some," he chuckled lowly. "On this world, as well as on Cybertron. Of course, I imagine you'll be reluctant to arm the best of them. Starscream likely would have had you, had his weapon been a match for yours. If not, he'd have at least given you a far more even battle."
"If you wish me to make him a sword, I will make the best one I can," Ezara answered, though she didn't even try to hide how little the idea thrilled her. "It would have been a much more even fight if he had a matching weapon," she acknowledged.
"I would have beaten you handily if you couldn't have drained my sword," Starscream glared at her, and grew even more irritated when she ignored him.
"It would be a good idea. It will be an excellent surprise for the Autobots, and he'll be able to carry it into battle more easily than many of us."
"Yes, My Lord," she flicked her chin to the right. "Before I ask to borrow the Seekers, I would like to know what needs to be done before actively hunting my pursuer."
"How long would you be planning on spending on the hunt, at a given period?" He asked her.
"If he behaves as he always had, it should take less than a decacycle," she said evenly. "Once I make myself obvious, he will come to me, and right into the trap."
"I would like to hear your plan in its entirety, before committing our forces to it," he told her. "If you have it in mind, I'm willing to listen."
"There is a rocky badland not far inland," she began, bringing up the location for him on the main display. "It is the kind of location that is well-suited for a formal challenge. The two most effective weapons against him would be Starscream's nullifier when I'm close enough to strike while he's frozen, or your cannon at a high enough power to destroy him outright. Either way, I stand there, make myself a target, and wait for him to come while whoever is helping is at a distance, watching the battle to come, or me."
"What range does his weapon have? I would think he'd sight you and open fire before coming close enough to be hit," Megatron pointed out.
"Several kliks, and there is a possibility of it," she acknowledged without concern. "I do not believe he will open fire before hearing me out on a formal challenge announcement. If he attacks, he runs the risk of my escape, which I've proven very adept at. If he accepts the challenge, I won't run and he knows it. It's his best chance at going home."
"Hmm ... I would want a backup plan, just in case," Megatron explained. "After we've filled Bay 7 with energon, we should have enough for a failsafe that will destroy him without unduly straining our reserves. Of course, it will be more than just Starscream as your backup."
"Good," she nodded, the first time she'd used their body language. "I have an idea for securing those reserves with very little danger to ourselves, if you would be willing to indulge me."
"Of course," he said easily, leaning back to listen. "I rarely pass on such an opportunity."
"The humans use a complicated, wide spread and large network of power lines to fuel their technology," she began, bringing up a map of the land near them with hundreds faintly glowing red dots. "It is inefficient and wasteful, and we can use that to our advantage. Many of these locations, substations and distribution nodes, do not have a regular human presence. By placing a low-draw energy drain on the isolated ones, we can fill energon cubes as they transmit their power."
"But that would take forever to fill one cube!" Starscream objected.
"Between fifteen and eighteen decacycles, actually," she glanced at him briefly. "It is slow. However, with thousands of stations filling them, Earth would produce an avenge of 10,000 cubes a day by my calculations, which does include a loss rate to discovery, once the full network was established."
"Which would take how long?" Megatron asked her.
"Twenty to thirty nanocycles per station," she said. "It is simple enough to teach anyone with hands how to do."
"Interruption," Soundwave chimed in. "Necessary system, remote power access. Unavailable."
Ezara looked over at him, a scowl on her face for a lingering moment before she worked out what he was saying.
"You are correct, we would have to physically go to each station to retrieve the energon cubes," she responded. "It is still a relatively simple way to obtain energy until I can get with an engineer capable of taking what I know of the solar power array and making it practical for Cybertron."
"Prepare a list of locations for this plan, and an estimate of the total time to set it up," Megatron decided. "It may prove useful. I will see about acquiring an engineer for you to work with."
"Thank you, Lord Megatron," Ezara smiled and inclined her head. "I will present the full plan when all details have been determined," she said before turning to leave.
After the door had closed behind her, Starscream scowled.
"I don't trust her," he announced, surprising nobody.
"If you ever say you do trust her, I'll throw you in the brig as an imposter," Megatron responded dryly. "Soundwave, how much is she exaggerating?"
"Deceitfulness: very low," he answered. "Likely effectiveness of plan: Moderate. Advice: consider plan. Additional observation: Concurrence with Starscream. She believes in the plan, her motives are her own."
"Her motives are clear to me," Megatron pointed out, chuckling inwardly at what he recognized as the closest Soundwave would come to jealousy. He expected it of Starscream. But from Soundwave, that was interesting. "You may have taught her too well, Soundwave." He stood up, deactivating the map. "I will return later."
He was sure he'd just set off a small maelstrom in the room when the door closed behind him. Between Soundwave, Starscream, Thundercracker, Skywarp and Ravage, every opinion possible was present, from attachment to hate to fear and no small amount of jealously on multiple grounds. It was entirely too amusing to see Starscream's scheming mind fully occupied with taking down someone else. It enabled him to truly appreciate just how manipulative and cleaver the Seeker could be. Just her ability to keep Starscream occupied was enough reason to keep her around. As long as Starscream was fixated elsewhere, he wasn't plotting to overthrow him.
It didn't take Megatron long to find her; she had gone exactly where he'd expected her to: the terminal in her quarters to begin preparing the information he'd requested.
"Lord Megatron," she greeted him when he opened the door with the deferential manner than came as naturally to her when addressing him as command did when she addressed the Seekers.
"There has not been a female in the Decepticon ranks since before I was created," Megatron cooed as he stepped up behind Ezara and slid his strong hands along rounded shoulders that belied the strength and will he was beginning to truly appreciate. "We were programmed to like it that way, to enjoy the company of other mechs as the norm."
"You aren't the first warrior to be like that," she said easily as she enjoyed his touch and tried to predict where this was going without bias, even while she knew she couldn't for her own desires and concerns.
Megatron pressed against her back as they stood there, his voice sultry in his own desire and how honest he could feel hers was. "But I knew this femme, back before the war. She showed me what I was missing by only being with mechs. I still remember how to make a femme feel very good."
"This is something I prefer ... private," she said, her voice as hungry as his as a slight tremor passed through her body.
"You never need to be alone again," he promised as he slid his arms around her to hug her from behind. "The door is locked. No one will disturb us."
"Thank you," she relaxed, giving no resistance as he guided her to her bed, still plush with Skywarp's gifts, and moaned when Megatron's first contact with her mind was a rush of pleasure.
"I have much more to offer you ... though I understand you prefer your pleasure mixed with other sensations," he observed as he entered her mind more fully and took a look around. Though he was standing in the center of her mind, where she preferred her pleasure, he could see through the walls to the worldscape beyond and a feeling of just how open she was to him. Only one area was locked, and it was the one Soundwave had said was still locked from her access.
No Decepticon was this open even after they were conquered fully, and this femme was offering herself to him before he'd even touched her.
"Yes, My Lord," she formed, kneeling at his feet in her preferred bio form, her short, feathery-haired tail waving lightly against the floor behind her.
He took a moment to consider her mind, what parts of her cultural memories were easiest to find ... and he found something that suited him nicely. He shifted his form, adopting a biological form out of Lydrom's myths, as tall as his own body and heavily muscled, covered with thick, leathery skin and long, swept-back spikes along his back and horned head. Huge wings of black feathers and leather cast a shadow over her kneeling blue form.
Ezara looked up, curious at what he'd chosen, and her near-instinctive fear of the monster rang out clearly across her mindscape. Still, she didn't move.
Megatron could feel that she wasn't frozen, but controlling her physical form's reaction despite the howling storm outside.
He reached down, running powerful, clawed fingers along her cheek. "Well?" He rumbled in a deep, powerful voice. "What do you think?" He asked her, shifting to expose his flaccid maleness, already more than impressive.
It changed her reaction, her eyes fixed on it hungrily.
"The most powerful of Lydrom's monsters," she told him as the storm calmed quickly. "It ... suits you, really. You make it sexy."
"Excellent. Did you ever face one before?" He asked her, pulling her up to her feet, where she was still dwarfed by his huge body. Standing, she came right up to his groin, and it only fixated her more.
"Not for real, My Lord," she told him. "They are a myth, not real. Like my feral form."
"Well, this one is real," he chuckled lowly. "What do you think you'd like to do, meeting a legend in the flesh?"
"Much as I wish no matter the form you chose, My Lord," she rumbled and cupped one of his balls, large enough to fill her hand. "I would wish to be used, taken, for your pleasure, until I have nothing left to give."
"Get me hard then," he growled menacingly, his tail lashing behind him with flicks of flame.
She didn't hesitate in the least to shift to fondle both his balls while she ran her tongue around the tip of his dauntingly large penis, trying to stimulate him before she took it into her mouth and began to work for real.
Ezara had to stretch her jaw to the limit to take him, as he began to stiffen. A powerful hand closed on her head, and a shaft nearly as thick as her arm began to thrust in and out of her face, choking her every time it was forced back into her throat, making her gag as Megatron forced it back deeper, testing her limits.
It took effort, even in her own mind, to make it continue to work no matter his size. Yet even Megatron could feel how intensely this turned her on. It wasn't physically pleasurable, but it worked something deep in her psyche that was in ecstasy.
"You enjoy letting go like this," he rumbled, choking her on his cock for a few moments before pushing her back roughly. "I'm guessing you've been a whore more than once in the past, haven't you?" He picked her up by the scruff of her neck, holding her at eye-level and looking into her face. "And somebody went and took you away from all that."
"Probably, but I've fought for everything I've gotten," she told him. "No one's given me anything."
"But deep down, you still want to be the street-bot, don't you? Scraping every last scrap of energy you get, whatever it takes... and whatever you have to reduce yourself to to get it." He turned her around, slamming her chest-first into the wall and pressing his chest against her back, his cock rubbing her legs.
"Yes," she grunted without a trace a shame or regret. "Made me strong enough to survive the rest."
"Let's see if it made you strong enough for this," he rumbled, starting to force his massive shaft up into her sex, savoring the tightness, and the way she practically melted in response to being used for his pleasure. If he didn't know better, he'd think she was the most pathetic of street-bots, not even worth enough to be an Autobot, much less a high-ranking Decepticon.
It was beyond delicious, as he roared and filled her to overflowing with his first orgasm, to have a powerful warrior, who had no ambitions to take his place, and truly, honestly got off on being used so completely by him. Even so, it surprised him slightly when he felt her trembling and whimpering from being so close to her ecstasy as she begged him to continue fucking her.
He kept pounding into her, enjoying the different feel of two bodies, rather than simply two minds. All the same, he began to exert his subtle pressure, expanding his control over her mindscape, and over her as well, intertwining their processes and his command over them, dominating her in the way that only two mechanical beings could.
As long as he kept clear of the one area of her mind that was still locked, even to her, he not only met no resistance, he felt welcomed. He was more than slightly amused when he encountered her punishment by Starscream, at how differently she responded
He accessed her memories, not bothering with permission, pulling up memories of a busy part of a large city, one where she'd enjoyed herself in the past, as he worked to drive her towards her own release.
Megatron shifted their location to outside a seedy club he'd pulled from her mind. It wasn't the type of place he'd been to in ages, and he was sure she hadn't been to since she'd started on the way up the ranks. He glanced at her, his pet for the time being. She was naked except for the collar attached to the leash in his hand, her body showing how well used she already was despite the fact that her tail with its odd feather-like hairs has tucked up between her legs to cover her sex.
He gave her a moment to assess where they were and what she looked like, and smiled privately when her only response was to look at him and step a little close to make a display of submissive affection.
He stepped inside with her, looking around to take in the type of clientele the club featured. While, to him, they were all mental constructs and nothing more, to her, they were a way of life left behind, people she'd known, behaviors she'd known. And here she was, being paraded in front of them stark naked, on the leash of a powerfully-built male who clearly felt he had every right to use her however he wished.
"Get me a drink," he ordered her, taking a seat casually, unhooking her leash so she could go.
He felt her brush against his mind as if they were physically here, and he provided what she was looking for with an intentionally careless thought before she walked off, doing her best to give him a good show, and the rest of the patrons the reason why she was with someone so obviously important.
She retrieved the drink, and he resisted the urge to have the bartender insist on payment up front. When she returned, he snapped the leash back in place even as she all but crawled into his lap.
"So - do you want a drink too?" He asked her with a sly grin and reached one arm around her to squeeze her breast.
"Yes, Master," she snuggled his neck affectionately.
He took a mouthful of his drink, swallowing some of it, giving the rest to her as he pressed his lips to hers.
"You know where to get the rest," he rumbled, reaching between them to unzip his pants. She required no further prompting and he could feel the tingle of a small thrill from her as she scooted back on the bench so she take his soft penis into her mouth and work him hard.
He didn't bother to hold back, turning to let her put on a show for the rest of the club until he let out a low grunt and filled her mouth with his seed, letting her pull back to swallow it down. He met the eye of one of the other guys, who seemed to be interested in her, and he smirked slightly.
"Go over and satisfy him," he ordered Ezara, nodding towards the military-looking Lydrom male. "Whatever he wants, as long as I can watch."
"Yes, Master," she said submissively, but there was the familiar tendril of eagerness and thrill as she moved off.
"Well now, handsome," a femme cooed from near his shoulder as Ezara was bent over a table and fucked hard. "It seems you need a new plaything."
Her robotic form mixed with the bios at an appropriate height with no apparent difficulty. He would have ignored her, but he hadn't created her, and that demanded his attention.
"I happen to be enjoying the show," he told her. "What do you have to offer me?" He asked her, taking her appearance in curiously.
"Something to enjoy during the show," she shifted her appearance to please him, even as he caught a look of Ezara's expression at the exchange.
"Mmm ... you know my pet," he pointed out, caressing her cheek as she adopted a more buxom, curvaceous form and slipped into his lap. "Or she knows you, I'd say."
"We both work for a living," the newcomer smiled at him, shifting to let him feel that she had nothing under her short skirt to get in the way of fucking her. "She thinks I'm stealing you, Handsome."
"And you enjoy her thinking that, don't you?" He chuckled, pressing his cock into her sex with a low rumble.
"I do find it amusing," she admitted with a moan as she began to ride him, working him with her body without getting in the way of his view of Ezara being fucked by another. "She may have learned the trade, but she's a terrible student of the rules. She's trouble, always had been, always will be. A thug trying to play lover."
"Mmm ... tell me more about her," he rumbled, nuzzling her neck lightly and running a hand down to stroke her sex through her skirt.
She moaned deeply in pleasure before answering. "Not much to say. She's got no pride in her job, it's just a means to an end. She'll never be more than a slut."
Another variable entered that Megatron hadn't created, and now he was reasonably sure that Ezara hadn't either, at least not consciously. The music of the club had a new beat to compete with from outside. It reminded him more than a little of the arena on Cybertron, and he could feel that she was drawn to it.
He finished quickly and shooed the newcomer away so he could stand.
"You want to go, don't you?" he lifted her face to look at him without stopping those taking advantage of her willing body. It didn't take any skill at all to see how difficult it was for her to keep her attention on him and not follow the militant sound. "You think you can fight, win, in there?" he raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
"I know I can," she barely breathed.
"I think it would amuse me to see you try, pet," he chuckled. He knew she could, that she had, but it wouldn't be suitable to let her in on that. He shifted their location, and felt a combination of her mind and something outside her mind finalize the setting, including putting them in their mechanical forms. It should have irritated him, but right now he was too interested by what was being presented to object.
"So you want to enter this street tramp in the fight?" the arena master looked at Megatron dubiously. "Far be it from be to dissuade you from wasting your money."
"It's mine to waste," Megatron played his role perfectly, the lines and knowledge coming to him almost as naturally as if they really were his idea and culture. Energy chips changed hands and they separated; Ezara to be prepared to fight, and he was shown to the seats where those with fighters sat. No one seemed to care that he wasn't one of their kind as he took his place among them to watch the fights.
These were shadows too, as was the rest of the audience. He could feel, almost see, that they weren't real, not even as memories. They were as much scenery as the stone and metal of the arena, and only about half as solid. One glance around and a group did stand out, in an arena of thousands of shadows, three were on a special platform apart from the crowd were absolutely real. The two femmes seemed to be memories, but the powerful mech with them had a mind of his own, and it was incredibly strong.
A Prime, he thought... or somebody much like one. Sentinel Prime had had much the same steel in him.
Why would he have done this ... or, more importantly, why would her owner have? It seemed that you needed a sponsor to be in here. Who had spent that sort of money? Had it been hers? It was possible, but the words had come so easily out of her mind that he thought they'd been spoken before, likely many times. A patron, perhaps. Somebody who'd wanted to see her beaten into submission, or somebody who'd arranged for her to be trained, planning to make a mint on the up-and-comer in the gambling?
The answers didn't seem forthcoming, even to his probes of her memories. Her mind was willing, but the jumble of information told him that what he was watching wasn't a single event, but a conglomeration fashioned to fit the circumstances from dozens of them.
As the warriors came out, nine mechs and three femmes, Megatron became acutely aware that the ranking mech in the stands above him had shifted his attention from the coming battle and his companions, to the Decepticon below. He didn't say anything, but his gaze was steady, somewhere between an invitation and a challenge.
Megatron made note of the path up there, and stood, walking over to meet him. This could be an interesting source of information... if nothing else, it would be good to see why there was another personality here.
"Another of your experiments?" The woman sitting next to him looked over Megatron haughtily.
"No, he's not mine," the mech chuckled. "Megatron is the work of another. Queen Vistra," he introduced her to Megatron. "My aid-de-camp Emirc Lyzen," he flicked his chin to the militant femme standing at his left side who was giving Megatron a serious eyeing to judge his worth as a warrior. "I am Toe'Emirc Rawlind."
"And I am Megatron, ruler of Cybertron," Megatron announced calmly, his full commander's bearing on display. "You wished to meet me, Toe'Emirc?"
"Given how she views you, it seemed prudent," Rawlind said. "Sit and watch the battles with me. You have been trying to dig up her past, I understand."
"At the moment, she is a good candidate to replace my current second in command on this world. It seemed prudent to learn what I could about her. You figure prominently in it, it seems," he pointed out, taking a seat easily.
"She is mine," Rawlind said. "She doesn't look like much right now, does she?"
"Nothing worth thinking about," Megatron acknowledged. "She didn't seem to be much when I found her either."
Rawlind chuckled. "She's very good at that, even after she was promoted. It saved her servos more than once, being mistaken for nothing of importance. She is as fine a warrior and second in command as you'll find," he said before fixing his gaze on the battle that she was loosing badly and watching threw steepled fingers. "Strong, smart, a good tactical mind, survival instincts that few can match, absolutely savage, instinctively morally moldable to her surroundings ... all that's required to keep the loyalty you are already familiar with is to never let her believe you are an unfit leader."
"I have to prove that to my subordinates regularly," Megatron pointed out.
"Yes, I have noticed Starscream," Rawlind acknowledged. "That is not what I mean," he regarded Megatron evenly. "She is stronger, faster, deadlier and more vicious than you are capable of. She's already capable of ripping you apart, body and mind, if the idea crossed her mind, and she is nowhere near full strength yet. For all that, she has little desire inherent in her to lead if she has someone in charge than does the job well."
"Which means, to her?" Megatron asked, trying to decide whether this stranger was trying to help him, or sabotage him.
"If I was trying to sabotage you, I'd simply stick the idea in her head to hate you," Rawlind chuckled softly. "She will listen to me, above all others. She'd even make nice with Starscream if I encouraged it, and she really does hate him a great deal. She simply hasn't worked out how acceptable it is to kill him yet.
"To keep her loyalty requires very little, Megatron. Energy, support against her enemies, indulging her savagery occasionally and her libido regularly, and no not loose many battles, if any. I did my best to civilize her with the time I had, but there will always be a bit of beast in her Spark. Letting her have that pretty black flyer of yours was a good move. She is quite the lustful creature, and she does find him enjoyable."
"Skywarp?" Megatron raised an eyebrow at him. "Pretty?"
"To us," Rawlind said with a faint smile as the scene below them shifted, becoming an eight-warrior free-for-all with Ezara, now with some upgrades and markings, gleefully in the middle of it in her feral form. "I suppose it's a matter of taste."
"As usual," Megatron granted, looking down at the battle. "Just how is it that your mind is so potent within hers?"
"It is our way," he said simply. "Bodies do not last forever, but if you can prepare a suitable host before that, you can join them when it happens. It is not quite the same as living, but it is far better than oblivion."
"She is one, My Lord," Emirc Lyzen half said and half asked her commander.
"Yes, she is," Rawlind flicked his chin to the right fractionally. "Her, and her opponent before last."
"Shall I remove them, My Lord?" she glanced at him, ready to step forward and leap to the arena floor to destroy her leader's enemies.
"Only him," Rawlind lifted his hand slightly to make his officer pause, and Megatron got a good look at her bewildered expression. "See that she is sold to the arena in Darimoc. The master there owes me a favor. Yes, Lyzen, I am doing things differently. Have your fun with the mech. The femme will be mine."
"Yes, My Lord," she flicked her chin up and saluted him with her right fist over her left shoulder before she turned and took the several-story leap onto the arena floor to incredible cheering from the crowd and evident fear from all the fighters except Ezara.
She was looking at the Emirc with an eagerness that bordered on insane.
True to her orders, Lyzen ignored her. "Everyone but you off the field," she pointed to the mech that Rawlind had indicated.
"Was she aware that she is no match for your officer?" Megatron watched Ezara's irritated leaving with fascination. He could still see the street-bot she had been, but every movement brought the warrior she would become more to the fore.
"To a point, I expect she was," Rawlind said as Lyzen gave her opponent a fitting warrior's death, for all it was a horribly uneven contest. "At this stage she is too intoxicated with new power to fully grasp that she is still mortal."
"Power ... not energy?" Megatron focused on the Toe'Emirc.
"Yes, power, not energy," Rawlind flicked his chin up slightly. "There will be a hundred or so of them right now, those who have the potential to replace me. It will be some time before they can easily recognize each other, but having done it already, I know one when I see it. I intend to choose my successor, train them, mold them."
"Why not destroy them all?" Megatron had to ask. He knew he was missing something critical, but he couldn't place it.
"Because it is impossible," Rawlind chuckled. "I've run the calculations, reviewed history. There will always be a few who escape, and new ones are created to replace those who fall. No, that is what my predecessors did. I choose differently. My time would not be forever, but my legacy will be. That one, and I, will rewrite the rules of the war."
"What happened?" Megatron couldn't help but ask. Obviously something hadn't gone according to plan.
"A variable I did not anticipate. She had to take my place before everything was in order, and a pretender tried to seize power. He has it too, for the time being. I do not anticipate his time to be much longer, now that she has found this world and the energy to rebuild herself fully."
"You created her then? Or merely trained her?" Megatron asked him. "And are there others here?"
"I trained her, prepared her for the role, whether she realized it in a given moment or not," Rawlind said. "There are nineteen of us in all, though most have settled into dormancy. Ezara and I are the most active."
"And are the others Toe'Emircs as well?" Megatron asked him, adding this information to what he knew. "Were you transferred to her with some device?"
"Yes, every one of us, from Delta Six to her," he nodded. "And no, it's not a device. If any of the early ones know how it works, they aren't telling. There is something in a few Sparks created every cyracycle. When a Toe'Emirc dies, everything we are transfers to the strongest of them. Until her, that would be the leader of the opposing military, the rebel army."
"I see... tell me. Can you reverse the transfer as well?" Megatron asked, considering his options. It would weaken Ezara, no doubt, but improve the quality of his troops a thousandfold if this would work. True military mechs would be so much easier to control, as well - it came built into them.
"Reverse it?" Rawlind looked at him like he'd lost his mind before he caught a tidbit that explained it enough. "No, it doesn't work like that, Megatron. We can't even control who we go to when the current host shuts down. We belong to the Toe'Emirc until the Tezita are no more."
"I meant transfer your minds to other bodies," he explained. "I can have new bodies built, powerful ones, but we require Sparks to give them life. Yours would be most welcome, and the bodies could be built to your specifications. An entire new galaxy would be ours for conquest."
Megatron knew he'd hit on exactly the right deal. He could see it in Rawlind's expression, even as well-controlled as it was. The longing. This Toe'Emirc may have accepted his fate, but it hadn't dampened his desire to live any.
"I'll have to wake up Delta Six and Mitrix. If it can be done, they'd be who know how, and the odds," Rawlind said as he began to process the offer in his own peculiar way. "It is worthy of discussion if it is possible."
"I suggest you do so - there will be ample time to arrange it," Megatron told him with a low chuckle. "Just imagine what we could accomplish as allies."
"Then I recommend you finish with her, so I can convene a full council," Rawlind flicked his chin up.
"Of course," Megatron agreed, disengaging the connection as it seemed Ezara was more than happy to continue entertaining herself in her mind. He was aware of security locks being put into place as he withdrew, though he was not pushed out.
The presence of her predecessors did explain a great deal, on so many levels. If he could get them into new bodies, the war would be over with in decacycles. To have nineteen warriors of her caliber at his command! The universe would fall to him with little effort.
Skywarp kept around the corner to the door to Ezara's quarters, all too aware that Megatron was in there with her. He was sure his leader was in her head, enjoying the body she so willingly let be fucked by seemingly anyone. Ravage he'd challenge for her ... with Megatron, the best he could do was to be there when he left and hope he understood her better than the more powerful Decepticon ... and hope that Megatron wouldn't take her completely, by skill or order. She said she wasn't the exclusive type, that he was special to her, but she was also numbingly loyal to Megatron. Skywarp was sure that if Megatron ordered her to pleasure no one else, she'd do it.
He tensed when he heard the door open, then close, and a single set of footsteps walking away. He risked a peak around the corner and saw Megatron's back headed away and relaxed some. Still, he didn't move until Megatron was out of sight.
Skywarp paused just outside her door, gathering his nerve to knock and find out just how bad things were. When he did, nothing answered him at first, and it took nearly everything to knock a second time.
A mumbled response came, and he took it as good enough to enter.
He stepped into a scene much more tranquil than he expected. Her quarters looked very much like they had the last time he'd been in here, five decacycles ago just before she started working on Megatron's mace. Ezara was almost limp on her bed, tangled in the soft things he'd given her. Her computer terminal was still open to the electrical grid of North America.
"Sky," she murmured, setting his focus squarely on her again. "Wasn't expecting you so soon. He barely left."
"I waited," he admitted, sitting down on the bed. He hesitated a moment, all too aware of what Megatron's attentions could be like, and reached over to touch her shoulder.
The connection to her outer mind was instant, testifying to just how completely destroyed her mental shields were, but she still welcomed him as best she could with as distracted as she was.
"He really worked you over," Skywarp murmured, taking in that she didn't even create a mindscape for them to interact in at first.
"In a good way," she managed a weak smile. "At least not a bad way," she let her optics go off line to conserve energy while she sorted herself out enough to figure out what her actual status was. "Think he went through my whole mind."
"I'm not surprised," he spoke softly, keenly aware of what it had felt like when Megatron had last laid his processors bare and really investigated what was going on. "He does that to all the new Decepticons. It helps keep traitors and double-agents out."
"It's also incredibly intense," she all but cooed in remembered ecstasy.
"Do you still want me?" he couldn't help but ask, fearing that he'd never be able to give her the same kind of experience.
"Oh, Sky," she reached out in a cloud-like form to wrap around his presence in her mind with a warm tingle of pleasure. "Of course I do. You are still the one I want to stay with me. Megatron is intense, Ravage is savage, but you feel good," she told him as she made the effort to form her crystal quarters and a solid form for him to hold. "Can you stay?" she asked even against the low rumble of a storm outside her quarters.
"For a while," he nodded and pulled her onto the bed. He kissed her neck and felt her respond enough to lift her face to kiss him back.
"Mmm, I don't have the energy to respond much, but...." she said before he cut her off with a hard kiss and pushed her to her back so he could climb on top of her.
"I think I can make that work," Skywarp grinned and pressed into her willing body. He was absently aware that as badly damaged as her shields were, he could access almost nothing, but it didn't concern him much as he took his pleasure in exchange for the energy she needed more than he did right now.