Transformers belongs to Hasbro/ Takara.

The Dark Horizon

Chapter 21: Royal Lineage

The two weeks I was granted for much needed recovery after the birth passed way too quickly and before I could even think of a new plan I was back in Optimus Prime's clutches. However, as I was pretty much back to normal, the only times I saw him were when he tried to knock me up again. And I made sure he definitely did not enjoy the time he spent with me.

I made two escape attempts, but they were cut short by either my guards or other Autobots I encountered in the hallways. Looking back, that was to be expected because I hadn't actually had a plan to get out of base, hoping something would come up as I went. Well, apparently not. Ratchet kept promising he would think of something, but that had yet to happen- for now, he seemed to be just as much out of ideas as I was.

This time, it took longer for me to conceive, seven and a half months to be exact. Again my plans (hypothetical plans, but nevertheless) had been crossed and again, it was a little mech, but not a Prime. On the one hand I was glad about that fact, on the other I wasn't- another Prime was probably the last thing I needed, even if he was my own son, but I knew Optimus wouldn't give up until he had his heir.

And what if I really created a Prime, what then? I doubted I would be allowed to "retire", the outcome of me being simply passed on to someone else was likely and who knew who that would be. The image of a lamb being thrown into a cage of starved wolves came to mind. I was looking forward to the day I would be rid of Optimus Prime, yet I dreaded it.

My new sparkling was different from my first one, I noticed that very quickly. It was more sensitive in a way, my changing moods were affecting it more intensely and it would recoil in the more stressful situations I found myself in. It was like he was... very shy, fearful even at times and that apparently irritated his father a bit. I had the feeling he didn't want to have too much to do with this sparkling because of that. I supposed that could only be beneficial for my son anyway.

When the throbbing started this time, I knew my sparkling was ready to emerge- at least my body deemed it ready, because had one asked my son, he would have been content just staying right where he was.

Since panic wasn't messing with my ability to think clearly, I was more aware of what was happening than last time; mostly I was very aware of Prime being there, a circumstance over which I expressed my discomfort openly. In the end he left because Ratchet feared I would become hysteric and there might be complications, so he told him to wait outside. Believe it or not: he listened for a change.

I was in pain, I wheezed, whimpered and screamed, still it was different from the last time. I noted how Ratchet connected me up to monitors and scanners, heard how he was talking to me reassuringly and I saw how he was quickly preparing the tools he would need to help the sparkling along. A small metal orb was already sitting on the table next to the berth I was lying on- the little sparkchamber Ratchet had built for my son.

When the time came and my chest opened, he placed a circular gadget over my spark that had swirling electromagnetic plates at its bottom. The resulting field pulled at the small spark next to mine and removed it from my body as it lost its grip on my spark. My son's life essence hung in the magnetic field below the gadget, the look of utter concentration was plastered on Ratchet's face while he transferred the fearful newspark to its casing with steady hands.

I watched as he closed up the tiny spark chamber and put it into the yet empty gestation pod that had been carried into the operating room of the med bay for this occasion, what exactly he did there I couldn't see from my position, but when he was finished, he returned to me to take care of me. In fact, it had all gone rather smoothly and in the end, the hazy feeling took over again.

Maybe that was normal, some sort of instinctual reaction meant to reward a bot for reproducing... I felt happy somehow. My father was there. My sons were there. And for a moment, everything was just fine.

XXXXXXXXXX

I'd thought that my third pregnancy would be just like the first two. Boy, was I wrong. My third child was unlike the others- it was a Prime. And it did make a huge difference.

At first I didn't notice. In the beginning everything felt normal, after a while I started feeling my son within me and exchanging emotions. However, when his father (who was making a big thing of me finally having conceived an heir- there had even been a party but I had strictly refused to take part in any form) came into play, with him came the problems, at least for me.

I couldn't feel Optimus Prime in my spark more intensely than during the other times I had carried his children, but his son of course had a connection to him that was almost as close as it was to me. That was why, I realized soon with growing uneasiness, my child wanted to be close to both its creators. The problem was: I didn't want to be close to Optimus.

Logically the Autobot commander felt the tug emanating from my sparkling as well and was more than willing to oblige- after all, this was the child he had been waiting for and he wouldn't pass the chance to spend time with his unborn son.

The first time I saw what sort of control this sparkling had over me was when I was just about to start a fight over something with his father; it was some ridiculous little thing really, but mixed with my hatred for him it created enough aggression for a full blown argument- that was when my son interfered. I was shocked. The other sparklings had simply been unhappy in this kind of situation, but the little Prime managed to somehow... stop me.

I didn't know how to explain it- it shouldn't have been possible, right? But this newspark was actually attempting to control my emotions, to calm me down whenever I was getting upset just so I wouldn't fight with his father. It made me furious and that was quite weird. But even that anger was suffocated by my son.

How dare he? It wasn't his place to tell me what to feel- fuck, he didn't even have an own processor yet. He loved me, of course he did, but he also loved his father and he wanted us to get along so desperately. Now I wasn't even allowed a tiny bit of alone time because Prime "senior" kept me by his side as much as possible and me being in such close proximity to him all the time didn't exactly make things better.

It was frustrating really. Was I even an independent being anymore or was I just a puppet my son commanded? It would have been wrong to hate him for what he was doing though- he didn't know better. What he was doing was based on instinct alone, not on common sense or thought.

One morning I even found myself waking up from sound recharge in the arms of the mech I wanted to wish all evils the universe had to offer upon, feeling content. Content! My son shrunk back a bit from the wave of pure anger I was feeling when I found out it was his doing, but did he draw any conclusions from that?

No, of course he didn't. He was a Prime and Primes were stubborn (and probably quite dense) by nature. He did it again. And again, and again, and again. And whenever I thought it couldn't get any more confusing, I was proven wrong.

I had just spent the day in Prime's office and we were returning to his quarters for the night. He still had me on the chain, but at this point, that wouldn't even have been necessary. We didn't speak on the way back, but Prime kept looking at me in a weird way... there had been something about his behavior all day actually, though I couldn't tell what it was. I tried to ignore him and when we arrived at his private rooms and he took my shackles off, I just walked off to get myself some energon.

"Why do you keep doing this?" I winced at the sound of his voice. He sounded oddly calm, almost gentle as he walked towards me slowly. He didn't look or sound like he was planning to actually abuse me or anything, so I stayed relatively settled; I did scoot over and away from him on the sofa though, just to be safe.

"I don't know what you mean." He sat down next to me, I tried to jump up, irritated- but was stopped by my sparkling. With a growl, I suppressed its attempt at controlling me though and got up anyway.

"That is exactly what I mean." He remained seated, watching me with a frown on his face. "You shouldn't assume I cannot feel your... disagreement with our son. It is very stressful for him. Stop it."

I snorted. "You're telling me to- no, no, no. You", I said firmly, pointing my finger at his chest, "you know I don't like you. In fact, you know I hate you. And this damned sparkling of yours... you've been treating me like a piece of shit ever since you abducted me-"

"I've never abducted you. You came with me out of your own free will."

"Don't start with me, Prime! I have reasons to hate you. And how I feel about you is my business, mine alone, and the sparkling... and I... oh god, why am I even talking to you about this?" With one quick move, I turned around, flopped down on the carpet and buried my face in my arms.

I didn't expect his next move, my confusion therefore didn't clear my processor when he sat down right next to me.

"The little one just wants its parents to get along. Is that so bad?" He said softly. I stared at him, flabbergasted. It hadn't really occurred to me that the sparkling was affecting him as well, making him awfully cuddly for his standards. He was so... nice.

No! Optimus Prime was not nice and he was definitely not my friend! But he was the father of my sparklings... aargh! While my own emotions and my sparkling's battled, I feared my processor would fry.

"This is just all so... so confusing!" I cried out in the end and actually slumped against his shoulder. He even put an arm around me.

"It... is." he murmured, then he got up carefully and disappeared in his bedroom. When he returned, he was carrying a small box- at least it looked small as he held it, compared to me it wasn't at all. "I wasn't sure whether or not to give this to you but... I thought the mother of my heir might need some protection."

He lowered himself to the ground once again and put the box down before me. I eyed it suspiciously, as if a monster might jump at me should I open the lid. He ended up opening it for me, but at first I didn't quite understand what the metal parts which had been placed in the box with obvious care were supposed to be. They were painted in a decent pink with cream white accents, the curved surfaces were polished to a silky shine. Then it clicked in my currently so distraught brain: it was armor. For me.

"Do you like it?" Prime asked. I didn't know what to say. Was this some kind of joke? Why was he giving me armor? Whether or not I liked it was rather irrelevant though, more importantly: would I accept it?

"What do you want in return?" I inquired- receiving something from him without it being some kind of bribe seemed impossible; I couldn't deny I had wanted armor for a long time now, but what would be the cost?

"It is a gift. Would you like to try it on?"

"I..." I was at loss for words. Or for thoughts. Or feelings for that matter. None of this made any sense at all, it was like I had just stumbled into a parallel universe where me and Prime were somewhat befriended.

Seeing I was too puzzled to even know what I wanted myself, he picked up the first pieces, which now really looked ridiculously tiny in his hands, and pulled me to my feet while he himself kept his position to compensate for the height difference. Standing at my full height, our optics were about level now- I was once again reminded of how tall he really was.

"Here, let me..." He murmured and started attaching the armor to my torso. Pieces clicked into place, seams closed up smoothly, peripheral sensory ports I hadn't even known about opened in multiple places on my protoform to connect with the armor and fuse my own, inborn sense of touch with the artificial one built into the armor.

I watched in disbelief while he, well, dressed me. Sometimes his hands lingered on my body for too long, exploring the smoothness of the new armor or testing its fit, which was, I had to admit, perfect.

The weight of the additional metal was unusual, but there was something comforting about it, a mobile shelter that granted at least some safety. After a while, my shoulders, chest, upper stomach and hips were covered, then my lower legs and feet as well as my arms. I remained absolutely still during the whole procedure, as if frozen solid.

I was standing in the Prime's personal quarters, letting him touch me from head to toe- and my son had taken control over me completely.

This was wrong on so many levels I could not even begin to tell. A helmet descended onto my head, a crown of shame to mark me as the mere toy of Primes. What else was left of me now?

"Yes", Optimus spoke softly, still cupping my new helmet, and therefore my head, in his hands, "Ironhide did a marvelous job. It is perfect." He released me after looking at my face for too long, and I looked down at myself. The armor I was now wearing was sleek, not a heavy duty design forged for battle, but a lightweight... it accentuated my more feminine shapes rather openly too- anyone could have told it had been made by a mech, seriously.

I looked up at the mech in front of me when he stood up and smiled. "Come." He guided me into the bedroom and I actually followed him- why did I follow him there? And that was not even it. I even let myself be pulled onto the bed next to him and I lay down by his side when he made some room for me. It was the weirdest thing I had ever done in my life.

"You know, you can actually be quite sweet when you're carrying, especially this time..." he said, putting an arm around my waist. It wasn't supposed to be like this. None of this was right or appropriate- I hated this mech. However, my sparkling was as happy as he could be now, judging by the way he practically kept flooding me with its love and this odd feeling of security.

"I should be... avoiding you right now." I spoke after a while of too comfortable silence, my voice barely above a whisper. "I should be fighting you at every turn and I should hate you and fear you more than death itself. And yet I don't." He didn't respond, merely pressing a small kiss on the top of my helmet before falling asleep.

XXXXXXXXXX

Beneath the rec room table I was sitting at, my legs were twitchy. I kept my expression as neutral as possible, but on the inside I was boiling with rage- for a change, my son let me.

My son. Pah. How could this pit spawn possibly be my son? I was angry at everything and everyone in the whole fucking universe; I was angry at this brat for manipulating me, his own mother, so stubbornly, at myself for not being able to do anything about it, at his father because I was always angry at him and he deserved no less, motherfucking bastard he was, and at anyone else because... well, in general.

I swept the room with my optics once again, but nothing of interest was happening. Bots refueling and talking. Meh. The Autobots seemed to be sort of on edge though, I thought I'd heard something about a battle or mission or whatever. What I knew for sure was that Prime wasn't here, or otherwise I would have been staying with him again, whenever he wasn't in a meeting or anything that was. Maybe they really were fighting a battle right now. If a few of them were killed, well, it would serve them right.

At least his absence convinced my son to leave me be and let my spark have its way for a change. Had he tried to make me miss him now I thought I could have exploded on the spot. Grrr. The sharp clicking sounds my fingers produced as they tapped on the table top grew annoying to my own audios after a few minutes, I looked down at myself for the thousandth time today.

The color of my armor was just so gay. It was fucking pink. Ridiculous. And the mechs who had seen me in it so far had all liked it too well. Except for Ratchet. He hadn't said it out loud, but I knew he thought the color was hideous as well- and that coming from him, being neon yellowish- green!

I enjoyed the time I had for myself like this, I enjoyed simply being able to be angry.

That night, I knew when Optimus Prime had returned from the battlefield before the news had even reached me; it was my son of course who felt his arrival and immediately started calling out for him. I didn't see him before the next evening though, I didn't ask why, but I did notice his slight limp when he took me to his quarters then. And again, my sparkling made me behave in a way I would normally have refrained from. I couldn't go on like this, it had to stop.

I woke up in the middle of the night. Everything was quiet. I was enfolded in my mortal enemy's arms, who was recharging soundly. When had I gotten so used to his touch? My mortal enemy, I thought with a grim smirk. Very mortal indeed.

Before we had gone to bed I had noticed something odd which I hadn't thought much of at that point, because my sparkling wouldn't let me have any negative feelings when I was in the Prime's company and ultimately, it was hard to think in an hostile way if there were no correspondent feelings provoking such thought. But at the moment, I had a clear head.

And I had a very good idea of the possible fatality of the mistake Optimus Prime had made: he hadn't closed his weapons locker properly. And he was recharging. And most importantly, I was here and aware of these facts.

Very careful not to wake him, I extracted myself from his embrace and got up. The locker's heavy door swung open soundlessly when I pulled and the sight of a rather stunning display of pristine murder tools greeted me. Rifles, ammunition, swords, a monstrous axe... but all that was useless to me.

Too big, too heavy, generally too difficult to handle. I wouldn't give up that easily though and the set of shelves on the right side of the locker looked rather promising. Mostly, they held grenades, more ammunition, cleaning utensils as well as a few tools, but at the topmost shelf I finally found something: a dagger. At least it would have been a dagger to Optimus, to me, it was almost a sword. The handle was too thick for my small hand and I felt uncomfortable holding it, but it would definitely do.

I almost yelped when I heard the sleeping mech shift behind me, but he hadn't woken up. Now was the time. I looked at my optics' reflexion in the smooth blade I was holding. I couldn't kill my sparkling. But nothing would stop me from killing the other Prime in the room. I had to be very quick, had to do this before the real and deep hatred for this mech pulled me into a rage, stirred my son and made him interfere again. I tried to control the rising turmoil in my spark and stay calm.

I would kill him in cold blood. And by the time he even noticed something was going on it would be too late for him.

There was no sound as I walked back to the berth and found a position which would allow me to ram the dagger up below his thick chestplates, right into his spark chamber. I lined the blade's tip up with the seam at the center of his lower chest, the one spot where it had to penetrate in order to kill him instantly.

The world stood still. These were his last moments. It was a shame he would die so peacefully, quickly and without much pain. Simply killing him would not satisfy my thirst for revenge, but he would be gone. I would be free of him. And there would be no one left my son could force me to be all lovey- dovey with. It was the first step to true freedom.

I didn't know why I didn't just stab him right then, pushed the dagger into his chest with all my might and ended his miserable existence. Instead I looked up. And saw him looking back at me.

One would have expected someone to look shocked or furious or scared in this kind of situation, but no, not him. He just looked absolutely calm, as if this was nothing out of the ordinary at all. His venting was steady, he didn't move- just kept looking at me. The blade was still pointed at his spark.

"You are not going to kill me, Alpha." he said eventually, quietly, with no trace of anger in his voice. I tightened my grip on the weapon, determined not to let myself me deterred. He was doing this on purpose just to confuse me I was sure, long enough for my son to take over again.

"Name one good reason why I shouldn't." What reasons were there to let him live? He was the father of my children? Hah. As if I gave a fuck. The reasons to perform the killing stroke however were many and they were grave.

"You may hate me and you may wish to harm me, but you are not a murderer. You probably don't want to hear this, but I know you. It is not in your nature." My optic twitched.

"It is not in my nature. But considering how much you have done to drive me to this point, I have all the more reason to kill you."

"I dare you." I stared at him, starting to shiver. I dare you? This mech was absolutely insane, he had to be. All I had to do was put my weight into it and push. And what about him? He was making fun of me even in the face of death.

I hesitated. I... I would kill him, I would do it just to prove him wrong. He didn't know me. He never cared to get to know me. My sparkling was becoming aware of the precarious situation- he couldn't have understood what exactly was happening, but the emotions were speaking for themselves. I didn't have much time.

Still I didn't move. Why didn't I move? I was finally there, at a point where Optimus Prime's life hung in the balance and the decision whether he would survive this night or not was mine alone to make and all I could do was stare. Was this not what I had craved for years now? His destruction? I would never have another chance at this and if I didn't kill him now, it would go on forever.

My suffering would continue, my children would forever be helpless and at his mercy. Coexistence was not an option. And still I didn't move. My hands were shaking so badly now the dagger's tip was dancing across his armor, scratching it. I couldn't, mustn't fail now, I thought. But still I couldn't move! Why!? Why couldn't I just end this!?

I broke into sobs. How hard could it be to kill someone! Him of all bots! I couldn't move. Not even when he lifted his hands to grasp mine and take the dagger from me.

In that moment, all was lost. I was disarmed, rendered innocuous. Any my mind was collapsing on itself. I started wailing when Prime put the weapon away and pulled me against him. I punched one of the windows on his chest so hard it actually received a crack, to which he responded by holding me only tighter. I had never be so ashamed of myself.

XXXXXXXXXX

The ceiling in the med bay looked as dull and boring as ever, the lights were dimmed. My third son had seen the light of day (figuratively of course, because in fact it was just the artificial light coming from the ceiling lamps) a few hours ago, but I had no desire to see him. The whole spark- control- thing was still at the front of my mind and I was still quite mad. Obviously, my sparkling didn't understand why I was making so much of a fuss about it, he only meant well after all. The guy who had invented the atomic bomb had also meant well.

No idea what Optimus Prime expected of me when he strolled into the room a few hours later, but he was grinning like an idiot. I scowled and turned my head away. He motioned for my guard to leave us, then leaned against the wall opposite from my bed casually.

"So." He started. 'So' usually meant that he wanted nothing in particular, aside from getting on my nerves of course.

"What are you still doing here?" I asked, annoyed.

"I thought I should pay a visit to the 'queen mother' and see how she is doing."

"I'm fine now that this parasite of a monarch- to- be has finally left my body, thanks for asking dipshit." Logically, he didn't take kindly to the insult and it made me smirk internally to see his good mood go down the drain.

"That is my son you are talking about, you ungrateful little wretch. How come every time I am being polite you can think of nothing but attacking me?" Insufferable as always. And to think I had lived side by side with that bastard for months! The thought alone made me sick- sick and very, very angry.

"Because no matter how you try to disguise it, you'll always be an asshole, that's why!" He growled lowly, pushing himself away from the wall to walk towards me threateningly. I sat up quickly.

"Careful, femme."

"Oh yeah? Or what? You're gonna rape me? Lock me up? Torture me? I don't see how that would be any different from a regular day with you." I ground out between my clenched teeth. He was still closing in on me. The rage was getting more intense by the second, the pace of my sparkbeat was quickening until it was pumping so hard it could have burnt the insides of my sparkchamber in its fully extended phases. One step closer.

"There are much worse things I would like to do to you right now, believe me." Out of experience, I could tell he would have expected me to jump off the berth now and try to bolt; that or continue insulting him. However, I did neither.

I jumped up on the berth and punched him in the nose, he rebounded, I jumped at him to claw at his optics. It all went so fast he didn't have much time to react before I managed to dig a sharp fingertip into his right optic cruelly and scratched downward, rupturing his lower eyelid before hitting the battlemask which had snapped shut just in time before I could turn the rest of his face into a bleeding mess.

He threw me off, I slid along the floor and hit the wall hard. It hurt, but I ignored it. Without the armor, it would have been much worse. I got back up and charged. It was stupid, reckless, completely devoid of common sense, but it was the fury and hate acting and I wanted to attack him so badly.

I had caught him off guard earlier, but for it to happen again was too much to hope for- he was a warrior after all, I was not. I didn't stand a chance. Within mere seconds, he had me pinned to the floor, my arms twisted behind my back brutally.

"WHO THE FRAG DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!?" He yelled, pushing my face into the floor. I couldn't move, speaking was next to impossible in this position but there was one very important thing I had to say.

"Fuck... you..." I squeezed out. Then I was lifted up so quickly everything started spinning and the next thing I knew was that I had received a very hard slap in the face that sent me flying. I crashed into a berth and fell to the floor.

"WHAT'S GOING ON IN HERE?!" Ratchet. I couldn't see him from my position, but his holler could probably be heard in the whole base.

"You keep out of this, medic!" Prime barked back at him.

"Have you totally lost your mind?! Alpha-" he stopped. I could see Prime staring at him, with a look in his optics that could have killed. Ratchet let out a whine that turned into a scream quickly, I heard him crashing to the floor while intense fear and agony from his side practically scorched the sparkbond we shared.

I wriggled past the berth despite the pain I was in now, just to see him curled up on the floor, his head clutched in his hands as he continued screaming. Stiffly, as if it was an immensely arduous task, Prime walked towards him and past me.

"You. Will. Not. Interfere." Ratchet's scream rose in pitch. I didn't understand what was happening, he wasn't even being touched and yet he seemed to be in extreme pain. I didn't need to understand to be horrified though. And I didn't need to understand to tumble back into demoniacal aggression.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" I screamed, pulled myself up on my feet and hurled a drip standing beside the berth at the Prime's back. It merely bounced off him, but at least it distracted him for a moment and made him cease his attack on my father. But that meant his focus was back on me. This time, I did try to run from him, but he was too quick and caught me. Lifted up by the throat, I was slammed into the wall.

"YOU LITTLE BITCH!" he screamed furiously, tightening his grip on my neck so I started seeing stars. "Do you really want to do this the hard way!? DO YOU!? Alright then, fine! You're obviously well enough to fight, you don't need recovery- and I know just the place for you to go!"

He switched his hold to the back of my neck and half carried, half dragged me out of the room. I panicked. What was going on? What was he doing? I struggled, screamed and fought as hard as I could for minutes, but that didn't stop him. In the end, it wasn't a cell, torture chamber or anything of the like he threw me into, but the rec room, which was currently full of Autobots.

"Here, you can have her! I'm done with this little piece of slag!" he exclaimed and left, slamming the door behind himself. There was silence for a few seconds, the mechs too stunned to react to me having been thrown into their midst. The lamb in the cage of starved wolves. Then someone started laughing and the noise of mechs talking, yelling, hooting and moving became almost deafening. Hands grabbed hold of me, I screamed.