In order to know virtue, we must first acquaint ourselves with vice.
Marquis de Sade (French revolutionary and novelist, 1740-1814).
Chapter 14
Losing game
Deceit was a universal art.
Although on Earth, it exceeded the boundaries of any other phenomenon and acquired obscene dimensions.
The television broadcast ended and the big screen returned to the monotonous images of the surveillance cameras.
"This has to be a fragging joke, tell me it is! These meat bags certainly have a cruel sense of humour! Not that I don't appreciate it but…"
"You are less than qualified to give opinions on the matter, Sideswipe."
"But Optimus… that Pit face Decepticon attacked me first. I swear it!"
"Oh, we believe you. You have a cracked optic to prove it."
"Shut your trap hole, Huffer! Besides, I also gave him a good one…"
"Enough!" the commanding voice of Optimus Prime easily imposed over the rising discussion. "I don't care who started it. That doesn't change the consequences. Don't you realize the damage you could have caused, Sideswipe? I expected better from you."
Prowl stepped forward. "I accept my responsibility, Prime. It was me who assigned Sideswipe and Sunstreaker to the western border."
"A decision that I will never be able to understand."
"I thought I told you to shut it, Huffer," growled Sideswipe.
"This dispute finishes now. We won't degrade ourselves by fighting between us. I hope my words are clear enough."
"Yes, Prime…" a duet of voices trying to sound ashamed replied.
"If you allow me, Optimus, I don't think it's fair for Prowl to take the blame. I was in charge and I didn't do what was necessary to avoid the fight. Sides and Skywarp were insulting each other for at least three breems before the first punch was thrown."
"Sunny!"
"I'm not gonna run away from this one, Sides," Sunstreaker said, stepping closer to Optimus Prime. "So if you are going to punish someone, it has to be me."
"I appreciate your honour, Sunstreaker, but the damage is done. Fortunately, however, we didn't lose anything we can't gain back."
Huffer grimaced with contempt. "All I know is we have the human communications system to thank for all this. How is it possible that that human female dared to show up and defend the sovereignty of her country when we all know such a thing doesn't exist? Somebody please shoot me!"
Optimus Prime nodded. "Apparently, that's the way mass communication works in Earth, based on appearances."
"But that wasn't an appearance, but pure cynicism… I mean, frag it! We all know her words are Megatron's words! The Decepticons… peace ambassadors??? Please!!" Sunstreaker spat, already recovered from his recent display of humility.
"Demagogy. Seems that humans are very fond to it," Prowl calmly said.
"Are you telling me these fleshlings lie deliberately, even though everybody know they are doing so?"
Prowl nodded. "Their diplomacy certainly has a lot to do with lies, Sunstreaker. As I said before, human politics is complex."
The yellow Lamborghini discharged his frustration by violently punching his own palm. "So, Optimus? Are we going to continue our… policy of folded arms?"
"Only to the eyes of the Decepticons. Megatron must be feeling very confident now, so he will lower his guard sooner or later. The moment has come for us to turn the situation to our favour. Disadvantages shall become advantages."
Sideswipe's face illuminated. Like had happened with his twin, guilt seemed to have vanished from his processor.
"It's about fragging time! Listen everybody: nobody dare to touch Skywarp! That fragging flying trash can is mine!"
Optimus Prime stared at the red Lamborghini. Very few times had his glance reflected so much disapproval.
"You must never forget, Sideswipe, that we brought our war to this planet. And the current conflict Megatron has caused in that country is still ours, no matter how many terrestrial nations are involved now. Under any circumstance I will give an order that endangers one single human life. Remember this the next time you allow your rage to dominate you."
Sideswipe bowed his head.
Apparently satisfied with his subordinate's reaction, Optimus Prime addressed his Second in Command. "We are to begin the operation immediately. Are Blaster, Jazz, Hound and Mirage ready?"
"Waiting for your orders."
"Good. In the meantime, reinforce the frontiers. The Decepticons must not suspect we are changing our strategy. Megatron will eventually make a mistake, and his circus will collapse all over him. We will make sure it happens."
The Autobots nodded. They were all aware of the game of appearances that that unstable conflict was. They also knew that, in order to win it, they would have to move that way as well… within mirages.
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History proves that the only way to eradicate barbarism is through peace and concordance.
Not without annoyance, Adara removed the miniature microphone inside her ear and shook her long hair, letting the small device fall into the submissive hands of one of her servants.
The sound of her own voice still harmonized inside her head as she questioned if more flexible intonations could have softened the stiffness of the diplomatic hypocrisy that everybody was expecting from her. Experimenting with subtlety was never an obstacle.
However, it hadn't been bad for being her first appearance on worldwide television. Until then, her country hadn't meant anything else to the world but the terrorist reign of a tyrant; a reign in which she was barely a shadow, a beautiful jewel with which her father tried to justify his so called civility.
We are proud to be a modern and tolerant nation. Today, that we decide to extend our hand to honorable foreigners, we demand the respect of the world, the same respect that has always guided our relations with all kinds of beliefs.
And now, her power was a fallacy. It didn't matter that servants and soldiers bowed before her majesty; hers was a reign made of smoke.
We can understand isolated incidents without damaging intentions. Mistakes, as recent events had proved, are not exclusive of the human race. But there is no way we will tolerate the invasion of our sovereignty. Anybody who dares to soil our land with violence, will be considered an enemy.
She was submissive to Megatron in body and soul. Neither in this nor any other life would she have dared to deny it.
Why, then, was she tolerating it?
Fear was not the answer.
Something was mutating inside her, something that made her natural rebelliousness and her submission a bizarre pair of siblings, something she could only give one name: Megatron.
Her master, her demon; her condemnation and yet, her paradise.
Our country has no boundaries. By hosting visitors so different from any other, we show our impartial policy not only to this planet, but to the worlds above also. Today, I declare myself against any provocation and reiterate the disposition of my country to solve any kind of conflict through reasonable ways. I also support a fair solution to the current oil industry crisis…
Because it was Megatron who was the only one that ever made her feel.
For the first time in her life, Adara was feeling alive.
Pain, pleasure, desire… that insatiable need of Megatron's touch, of Megatron realizing she existed; of hard metal possessing her and showing her parts of herself she never suspected existed.
She wouldn't have been able to tell with words why she was so devout to the caresses of those cold fingers. Megatron was rough, brutal, the antithesis of every kindness… She could only find explanations in her own moans, in the way she whispered that alien name as her body twisted in pleasure, in the way everything was paralyzed when he possessed her…
And yet, he had a strange softness, almost surreal; a diamond that appeared eventually, camouflaged behind cold stares. She was obsessed with that part of him. She wanted it, become its owner, become one with it. If something such as happiness existed in a universe forged by injustice, it had to be there.
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Adara walked the rest of the corridor and entered the wide hall that led to the Command Center of the self-called 'honorable metallic foreigners'. That part of the castle was forbidden to humans, except for her, of course, forced Queen, decoration figure.
She passed under the two robotic condors she had seen coming out the chest of one of Megatron's lieutenants, motionless demons that guarded from the tall ceiling.
She ignored them; immune to the malevolent shine of their red eyes, just as she would have done with any of the many gargoyles her father had filled the palace with. Adara never understood his need of greatness. Her father had been a very small man indeed.
The sound of her own voice welcomed her steps. She arrived at the threshold of a huge door but didn't trespass. She leaned her face on the cold marble of the frame and looked inside, protected by the partial darkness of the Command Center's entrance.
Now it was her own face staring at her, the piece of immortality she had acquired by simply allowing her image to be captured by image recording technology. In that image, she would always be beautiful, always young, always a hypocrite…
But that wasn't her. Those pixels on the screen, the shine of those eyes that weren't hers anymore. Looking at herself had never been so sterile. At least a mirror would have returned an honest image.
Sitting on a chair before the big monitor, Megatron was also witnessing the public declaration she had given to the world concerning the situation of her country. For security reasons, the speech had been broadcasted with some minutes of delay.
Behind Megatron, with his hands behind his back and switching nervously the weight of his body from one leg to the other one, was a robot that highly resembled the buffoon Starscream, although this one had black and purple colours. For some illogical reason, he denoted immaturity and youth. How was it possible to appreciate such things in the metallic features of a mechanoid, Adara couldn't tell. But still, they were there.
The broadcast finished. Megatron punched a button and the screen darkened. Tense seconds followed. From her hiding place, Adara held her breath, certain that another facet of Megatron's personality was about to be revealed.
"Why do you think you keep functioning, Skywarp?" Megatron finally spoke, still showing his back to his subordinate and without moving an inch.
"I… huh…"
"I asked you a question. Respond!"
The black-winged Decepticon straightened his stance and placed both arms at his sides.
"Honestly… I don't know, sir," he managed to reply.
Megatron turned around his chair and faced the nervous soldier, who didn't dare to look at his Commander's optics.
"Would you say I'm merciful?" the Decepticon leader asked.
Once again, the black robot had problems answering.
"Come on, out of the protocol," Megatron continued. "Am I merciful or am I not?"
"I would say you are fair, my leader."
Megatron smirked, apparently satisfied. "And you certainly know the proper answers, don't you Skywarp? So how do you explain why I am so tolerant with your stupidities? Just because your childish pranks make me laugh?"
"I… I just did what you ordered, Megatron… defend the western frontier… I admit I started the fight with that Autobot but…"
"Did I ask you for explanations? Save them, as well as your lame excuses. They waste my time and they degrade you."
"As you command."
Megatron stood up and walked toward the window. The morning sunrays gently caressed his silver structure.
"The fate of this primitive nation is decided in small details. A mechano-meter can make a difference. If that foolish skirmish of yours had happened at the other side of the frontier, we would have the Autobots all over us right now as we speak."
"But it wasn't that way, Megatron… Sideswipe crossed the border. He was the invader."
"I know. And I must congratulate you for your intelligence in being careful with that detail, or maybe you should thank your good luck, because after all that's what heroes are made of, don't you agree?"
The black robot seemed to turn pale, despite the fact that his face was white. Once again, Adara's mind must have been playing tricks to her… or perhaps not.
"I'm very sorry, leader, I didn't think… I promise it won't happen again."
"I'm not in the mood for your pathetic excuses, Skywarp. You were lucky this time, and by some sort of bizarre coincidence you actually favored our position. But if you ever get close to endangering my plans again I'll make you regret it. Do I make myself clear?"
"Y-yes… I give you my word that I…"
"Stop stammering! Decepticons must never hesitate! Now return to your guard shift. Don't make me have this kind of conversation with you again."
Skywarp made an energetic military salute and left.
Adara hid behind one of the columns behind the door and felt the floor vibrating when the robot called Skywarp passed beside her. He didn't seem to notice her presence. He looked relieved, as if an immense weight had been released from his shoulders. At the same time, he seemed in a hurry to leave as quickly as possible.
Adara shook her head. She must have been spending a lot of time with Megatron if suddenly she could read an alien robot so easily.
Suddenly, the corridor behind her was empty. How was it possible for Skywarp to have left so soon? It was more like he had vanished…
But she wouldn't let the ordinary events of those Decepticons surprise her anymore. She abandoned her hiding place and allowed her figure to be visible under the threshold.
Megatron was still standing before the window, his optics fixated outside.
"Leave," he said.
Adara sighed. She hated how lately she had lost the ability to surprise him.
"You are certainly in a bad mood today," she said, ignoring his command.
"I'm not in the mood for you, human, simple as that."
"Why? Didn't I enunciate like a machine that stupid declaration you forced me to read? Isn't Lord Megatron satisfied with my performance?"
There was no answer.
She was not willing to give up. "I practically put war on the table, Megatron. I hope you are aware of that."
"The best way to insure peace is always carrying war ahead. Never underestimate the power of fear."
"And you shouldn't underestimate me! After all, it's me and only me that keeps you in the comfortable position you are in now. One single word from my lips and your Autobot enemies and the whole world will kick you out of here!"
Megatron burst out in laughter as he turned around from the window to face the annoyed female.
"But you won't pronounce such word, my dear. And not because I can easily prevent you from doing so, but because you just couldn't. Or tell me, am I mistaken?"
Adara opened her mouth to reply but no sound came out. She hated herself; she hated the way Megatron gloated every time he made her shut up.
The Decepticon leader nodded. "I'm glad we are understanding each other. You must never forget your place."
"I know my place perfectly. At your feet and with my legs open," she spat, her eyes flashing in fury.
Megatron smirked, lust clearly exposed in his features. "As I said, I'm glad we understand each other. You humans can have some sort of intelligence… sometimes."
A heavy duel of glances pended between woman and machine. Authentic fire lightened the brutal game of domination, still very far away from defining a winner.
It was Megatron who broke the silence.
"Undress."
Adara's eyes couldn't have been colder.
"No."
"You are already here, so make yourself useful. Remove your clothes!"
"You can forget about it, Megatron. You are not fucking me today!"
"That is not your decision to make. Obey!"
Adara ignored him and slowly walked toward the double doors that led to her room. She could feel Megatron's desire stabbing her back and for a moment she was close to giving herself to him in that same moment, over the same marble floor on which he had made her his for the first time.
But her pride won the battle and she allowed the door to close behind her.
What was simple wood compared to metal, or to bestial desire for the matter? No rival could have stopped Megatron in that moment.
Adara wasn't surprised when the doors broke into infinite pieces before the fury of the powerful arms of the Decepticon leader.
But she didn't surrender to him, not even when he tore off her clothes, not caring about his own strength, throwing her as an object to the bed.
He could dominate her, destroy her with one single finger, subdue her in a thousand and one ways, but still she would always have the satisfaction of her contempt. That was her freedom.
Resisting her own lust, however, was the enemy to battle at that single moment.
As the white of her silk sheets started to become red, Adara found herself before a revelation.
Megatron certainly knew what a virgin had been.
To be continued.
Many many thank yous to the readers and reviewers of this story. I'm currently writing two "serious" and two "humorous" fics at the same time, so all your comments are very valious guidances to prevent me for mixing both moods far too much. Gracias :o)
Lots of hugs to my sis iratepirate for beta reading this chapter.