Transformers belongs to Hasbro/ Takara.
The Dark Horizon
Chapter 25: Our Way
My optics were glued to the large pane of glass in front of me. Cirrus Delta- the first space station I would ever visit. From afar, it looked like some chaotic organism, the result of centuries of adding to the original station without a general concept. Chaotic, yes, but so very alive.
Lights were glistening, ships were docking or taking off constantly. A whole city, suspended in open space. I had offered to join Barricade and Lugnut in the junkyard on their hunt for spare parts, but they insisted I go with the others and that they would be fine on their own. Anyway, the plan was for me to go with Soundwave, Rapiron, Motormaster and Caliburn.
I didn't feel too comfortable generally showing myself in public, much less considering the sorry state my armor was in, but Rapiron assured me that Cirrus Delta was one of the more Decepticon-friendly stations as it was mostly frequented by people our faction had business with. That and, with four big mechs armed to the teeth protecting me, he said, there wasn't really anything for me to worry about. Also, I realized quickly after we'd left the Nemesis, that when it came to looks, I wasn't even the shabbiest person in that place, despite my armor being dented, scratched, burnt, molten and torn in several places. Not by a long shot.
There was just so much to take in as we walked along the docking area for the spaceships. The Nemesis definitely was one of the bigger ones, but a few were double or three times its size even, and just as different as the aliens we came across. Most species seemed to be smaller than Cybertronians, some were about the same size. Some were based on metal as well, some were organic, some were... I didn't have any idea what they could be in fact.
Quite a few of them looked rather bizarre, too, not to say ugly. I didn't understand anything of what was being said as we walked past hundreds of strange creatures going about their business- it seemed everyone had their own language and they were all talking at once. There was dirt everywhere, but no one seemed to care- up close, it didn't look nearly as shiny, futuristic or posh as one might imagine a space station to be. It was there, that seemed to be the only thing that really mattered.
At some point, we reached an area holding lots of shops and what seemed to be restaurants and accommodation facilities. I almost jumped when a group of tiny aliens, smaller than humans even and quite furry, scurried past between our feet. I tried to watch my step while Soundwave and the others didn't even seem to notice them. A large entrance caught my sight as we came near it, the name of the establishment it belonged to stuck to the top in several languages, bold letters blinking in very peculiar colors. I could only decipher the cybertronian version- it said "Steam".
I felt uneasy after we entered what seemed to be a bar. Crowded, even more so than the rest of the station, and dark with a rank smell, it wasn't a place I would have chosen to spend my evening in. Patrons lying passed out in the corners, hookers trying to find their next source of credits, the floor sticking to our feet with every step.
The others looked rather comfortable in these surroundings though, not even Rapiron seemed to mind so I tried to blend in. We made our way to the counter, where some multi- armed creature was wiping glasses with a dirty towel. The counter top was rather high so I didn't see much of what was behind it, but the bartender didn't seem to have a head- still a voice came from somewhere as he (she? it?) addressed us in surprisingly well- pronounced cybertronian.
"What can I get you, gentlemechs?" Rapiron, now noticing me standing on the tips of my toes in order to see, simply grabbed me by the waist and hoisted me up to stand on the bar stool next to him- it was just as sticky as the floor.
"Objective: speak to manager." Soundwave said, causing the bartender to cringe and nervously wipe a few of his hands on the black apron he was wearing.
"Y-you don't happen to be health inspectors, do you?"
"Intention: Negotiation. Trade Contract: Desired."
The alien behind the counter seemed to release a deep breath. "Oh. Yes of course. You'll need to have a little patience though, she's currently in a meeting. But maybe you'll want to shorten your wait with a drink? We just got a fresh delivery of Tetra Blue, excellent quality. I would drink it myself if it didn't kill me!"
Soundwave said nothing, just standing there like he was carved from solid rock. He didn't strike me as the kind of mech who cared for a drink anyway. The other three were happy to order some high grade, I declined. Now didn't seem to be a good moment to start drinking. Motormaster nudged Rapiron with his elbow.
"Does your daddy know you're getting the hard stuff, lad?"
"I'm old enough to drink."
"Old enough to frag as well." The large black mech continued tauntingly, directing a sideways glance at me. "Though that don't mean much nowadays, ah s'pose."
"SLAG! WHY YOU LITTLE-!" I whirled around after hearing Caliburn, whose front was now dripping with a whitish fluid, exclaim. The bot responsible for the mess was probably the most... exotic thing I had seen in here so far.
"Oh I'm sorry, let me get that for you..." Scarlet lip components twisted in a suggestive smile before they parted to suck on the finger that had just wiped across Caliburn's chest armor in a very indecent manner. The bot was about medium- sized with overly bright paint, ridiculously protruding chest, round aft and heels that would have put Starscream to shame. "Wouldn't you like to introduce me to your friends?" It breathed into the still messy mech's audio, but it was still loud enough for all of us to hear.
I leaned towards Rapiron slowly and, without taking my optics off of the weird looking being in front of me, asked "Is that... a femme?"
"Nah, just a hooker." He whispered back. The bot seemed to have noticed me only just then and, narrowing its optics, hissed.
"I hope you know you're on my turf here. You think you can steal my customers? Think twice, bitch!"
"She's not working in your business, don't blow a gasket." Rapiron answered for me. The prostitute threw me a scrutinizing glance.
"Yeah well, you wouldn't earn a scrap anyway. I mean look at you!" I looked down at myself. I knew I wasn't looking very pretty right now, but at least I didn't look like a clown either.
"At least she's an actual femme- oof!" Soundwave had just punched Motormaster in the gut, not hard enough to damage him but hard enough to hurt and, most of all, to shut him up. He then returned to exactly the position he'd been standing in for the past minutes.
"Information: Not to be disclosed to outsiders."
"A femme?" The hooker asked, dumbfounded. "But... there are none. They're all gone, this is impossible... yet..." the bot started looking at me more closely, squinting to see properly in the dim light. "...yes. Oh Primus you really are a femme. Oh dear. Why does she look so shabby?"
The bot asked the others. As if me being a femme required spending hours in front of the mirror every day just to give the mechs something to drool over.
"Anyway, we should talk. Come with me." The bot tried to grab my arm, but I pulled away quickly while at the same time, Rapiron shoved himself between me and the hooker.
"No she won't." I couldn't see from behind the large bot's back, but I could practically hear the taunting sneer in the prostitute's voice.
"Oh and who are you? Her boyfriend? I could teach her to blow you like a pro, you know? Wouldn't you like that?"
Just then, an intoxicated mech came staggering from the side, grabbing on to a piece of Rapiron's shoulder armor.
"Ey you finished with dat whore? Ah could really go for a quick one if ya know what I mean..." he slurred. The young bot in front of me stepped away from the protitute and moved even closer to me, shrugging.
"You go ahead, pal."
I didn't follow the further course of their conversation, merely noticing from the corner of my optic how the drunk guy and the whore left together. Another alien had approached us, dressed neatly and, as a total exception in the club, not smelling totally rank. In size, he was somewhere between myself and Caliburn, organic and rather muscular, with long black dreadlocks and a metallic mask covering his face.
"My chief will see you now. Please follow me." Rapiron helped me down from the bar stool and the alien led us to an almost unnoticeable door in the back, which revealed a short corridor, which in turn after passing a heavy, dark curtain, opened up into a large, luxurious room. It was little brighter than the bar itself, but perfectly clean and rather comfy looking. Curtains and intricate carvings lined the walls and there, in the middle of the room, on what appeared to be some kind of throne, sat this creature's "chief".
Having spent my life in a world dominated by males, this was a strange sight to behold. The large alien, which was almost twice the size of its undoubtedly male servant, was a female. She was wearing a mask as well, but it was way more feline looking, her dreadlocks were even longer and partially done up in a complicated style which reminded me of some kind of crown. She looked strong, unreachable. Her clawed hands were holding a dagger, turning it over carefully every once in a while, fingers running across the details on the blade.
"You come to me with a proposal?" She asked without looking up, casually folding one leg across the other.
"Proposal: Trade. Available: prisoners. Desired: weapons grade energon." Soundwave replied.
"Prisoners?" The female alien looked surprised, sitting up straight. I was surprised too, I hadn't known there were any prisoners aboard the Nemesis. "What kind of prisoners?"
Soundwave therefore produced a datapad from one of his subspace pockets and handed it to her. "Prisoners members of Zunkahr-Clan. High-ranked individuals included."
"Zunkahri?" She repeated, growling a little and studying the datapad. "How much energon are we talking about?"
As they started negotiating the amount we would get for one prisoner or the other, another female entered the room. She was carrying a tray with what appeared to be refreshments, but when she saw me, she stopped in her tracks. The chief threw her a glance, then she looked at me as well.
"Ya'ala. What do you see?" She asked the other, who still wasn't moving an inch. She was significantly smaller than the other female, but still quite tall. She was clad in nothing but her mask and complicated patterns of what looked like leather braids and earth-coloured beads, giving her a more savage look. Sharp fangs were engraved in her mask.
"I see... " she started with a thick, foreign accent, slowly putting the tray down on one of the nearby tables and walking closer. I felt like she was addressing me, but I could only be sure of that when she came uncomfortably close. "...death. And life. Give me your hand." She tried to grab my hand, but I pulled away quickly.
Insecure, I looked at Soundwave, but he didn't seem too worried, so I let her take hold of my hand. Actually, I could be certain that, should she try to harm me, my company wouldn't hesitate to squish her into a bloody mess. She must have known that as well. She turned my hand over, mustering the palm for a few moments. Then she looked straight into my optics.
"I see great pain in your past."
"Who are you?" I asked quietly. Everybody was watching us right now, but we paid them no heed.
"Ya'ala is what I am called, but what I am... does not matter. You are the mother of peace. Pain is in your past, pain will be ahead of you, greater than you can imagine. You will break... and your soul will be dead long before your body. But," she cupped my hand in both of hers, "there will be happiness, deeper than most are granted to experience. The gods will smile upon you."
I pulled my hand from her grip, taking a few steps back. I looked at Soundwave again, then at the chief. "It can be painful to hear what Ya'ala has to say," She said while Ya'ala moved to stand by her side. "but she has never been wrong before. Now, back to business."
I didn't follow the discussion anymore, merely staring at the floor blankly, contemplating.
XXXXXXXXXX
"So... are you sure you're ok with this?"
"Do we have a choice?"
Rapiron sighed, snatching an old and worn ball off one of his shelves, throwing it up into the air, catching it, passing it to his other hand and throwing it again. "I just don't want to hurt you again. And..."
"You're scared." I finished. He looked at me again, shame written all over his face.
"I... yes. I really don't want to do it again."
"You think I do?" He stopped throwing the ball.
"...no." I let my head fall back into my neck, arms braced on the bed behind me.
"We should just get this over with quickly. As soon as I'm knocked up, you won't need to spend time with me anymore."
"It's not you. I don't mind spending time with you per se. I just don't want to interface with you."
"Well, why don't you tell Megatron why nothing has happened then? I think you're making this harder for both of us." He sighed, rubbing the back of his head with one of his enormous hands.
"Is there... any way to make this easier for you? It did look quite painful..."
I looked at him for a moment. Dear god, he really was trying. "I... no, I mean- I don't know. No."
"What if we just pretend we did it and that you're just not conceiving? I mean, won't you just be assigned to another mech after you've given birth?"
"I don't think Shockwave is that stupid. He'll notice."
"But there must be some way!" He sighed again. "What about… well… you know…"
"What?"
"Um… I mean… uh lubrication? Would that help?"
"Well… maybe."
"I'll see if I've got anything we could use." He walked over to a large crate sitting in the corner and started rummaging through it. "This is actually for locked joints and squeaky rails, but I suppose it will do." He produced a small blue bottle.
There was this weird sensation in my stomach when he sat down next to me, the bottle in his large hand. "Here." He handed it to me. I turned it over in my hands, took off the cap and sniffed. Completely neutral. The lubricant seemed rather thick, probably so as to stick to said joints. It would be a pain to wash off. I just sat there for a long time, looking at the bottle. After a while, Rapiron cleared his throat.
"What do you think?"
"Well I…" I didn't really know what to say. Considering the situation, this was a nice gesture, but it still meant we were going to interface. "it's okay I guess."
"So… don't you want to use it?" He requested carefully. I looked at him, then at the bottle again. A light tremor was building up in my body, but I wasn't sure he even noticed.
"I… can't."
"Do you want… me to do it?" I handed him the bottle back. His optics met mine, he forced a small smile onto his lips. "I will be careful, I promise. Just… be patient with me, alright?"
"I'll try." I replied, laying back and pulling my legs up. I tolerated his insecure hand on my thigh, even when it wandered up to brush my crotch lightly. I retracted my armor there so he could go about his business. Very gently, Rapiron applied the lubricant to my private area. It was highly uncomfortable for me to be touched at all and I was already fighting panic, but at least it didn't hurt. Yet.
"You are very tense." He remarked. I resisted the urge to roll my optics. Of course I was tense. "That might be one of the reasons why it hurts so much."
"This isn't exactly what I would call a relaxing activity."
He shut up after that. I didn't feel like talking anymore either. I kept my optics open. I knew that, should I close them, the sensations would only serve to remind me of much worse situations I'd found myself in in the past. Hesitantly, he readied his own equipment. Rapiron didn't seem any more comfortable with this than I was, but he was trying not to show that too much.
Very slowly, he lined himself up and pressed forward slightly. It was still painful, but not as much as the last time. The pressure was still there, but least the extreme friction was reduced. I still bit my lip to prevent myself from crying out.
Noticing I was still in pain, he slowed down. I tried to relax a little. I really did try. But I couldn't. Stop whining already. You should feel honored. Blue optics cruelly glaring down at me. I tensed up forcefully, my port cramping and my insides feeling like they wanted to spill out of my throat. Rapiron inhaled sharply as he was squeezed so violently and, reflexively, he pulled back and away from me. I fell off the berth in a fit of cramps, heaving onto the floor. By the time he reacted, I was curled up right there next to his berth, sobbing loudly.
"Alpha… oh dear Primus…" he said, fetching a rag before helping me to sit up slowly. I continued crying while he wiped my face clean. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"
I didn't say anything more to him that day. I just skipped training and sat in a corner in between the engines of the Nemesis. Barricade was the best company in these situations, merely keeping an eye on me while he worked, but not bothering me otherwise.
XXXXXXXXXX
Naturally, Bludgeon wasn't all too happy with me the next time I showed up. I didn't feel like explaining my absence either, so I endured his rebuke silently. Finally, he calmed down again.
"So. What I had been planning to do last time was to spice up your training." He said, putting his hands on his hips. "Follow me."
He led me to an adjoining room. It was much smaller than the sparring hall, but there still was enough room for about 20 bots. It was mostly empty. At the center, however, sat an enormous machine. I couldn't tell what it was, but it looked like one were supposed to stand in the middle and there were several monitors on its outside.
"This", Bludgeon said almost proudly, "is a combat simulator. And a pretty good one at that."
"How does it work?" I asked, a little bit intimidated by the large apparatus.
"Basically, your sensory and motor systems will be connected to the simulator. Then, several scenarios can be loaded. There are the standard combat situations, but we also have quite a collection of actual bots you can fight in here, Decepticons, Autobots, neutrals… we even have some different species. Every time one of our warriors returns from a mission with enemy contact, they can upload data. This gives us a very realistic setup."
"So… it's like a computer game?"
"This is not a game. We can modify the difficulty, yes, but when you get hit, and you certainly will be, it will feel just like real life. Your real body will not suffer actual injuries, but you will feel the pain. This way, we can also use the simulator to test pain resilience, which is a test you need to pass before moving up to a certain rank."
"…to make sure no one will spill critical information if captured and tortured." I concluded. So the Decepticons tortured themselves in here to be ready for anything the Autobots could dish out. Creepy.
"Correct. In here, we can take bots to their limits and beyond. It can be dangerous, psychologically speaking, but these risks must be taken in times of war."
I nodded solemnly. "But I assume torture isn't why we're here today."
"No. You are going to start training in real combat situations. In there, you'll be on your own." He pointed at the center of the simulator. "Your session will be recorded and you can watch it later while I give you some feedback."
It didn't take long to set the simulator up for me. I chose dual blasters, a long sword and a knife as weapons- I had been training with those quite a few times and was actually starting to feel comfortable using them. The scenario would be a simplified and slowed down guerilla- style battle back on Cybertron. I was feeling very nervous as Bludgeon placed the different sensors and emitters on different parts of my body.
"Alright, we're good to go." He finally said, finishing the last adjustments on the operating desk.
"What's my mission?" I asked, turning back to him as far as the machine I was wired into would allow me.
"Survival. Starting in five…" I closed my optics and flexed my shoulders.
"…four…" Focus. My weapons were extensions of my body. They were part of my body.
"…three…" The demons of my past had to be left forgotten now. I couldn't let them interfere.
"…two…" I had no idea what exactly lay ahead of me. I had to be ready for anything.
"…one…" The simulator's humming grew louder and louder.
"…go."
I opened my optics. The simulator was gone, the whole Nemesis just wasn't there anymore, neither was Bludgeon. The scenario unfolding in front of me made me gasp in shock.