For The Race – Prime Protector.
Chapter Two.
"So, the Autobots have a femme, and if we believe what we've heard, it used to be that Witwicky fleshling. Well done, Skywarp, for taking the opportunity when you had it. Finally that bug you planted has taught us something new other than Ratchet's remarkable vocabulary of oaths!" said Starscream.
"So, what should we do about it?" asked Barricade.
"What do you think? We'll take her for ourselves, that's what!" Starscream said. "Revenge and the saving of our race in one go! We can get sparklings on her, put the mech ones in adult shells, give them all the programming they need to function, and Decepticon loyalty programming so they are loyal to us and our cause. The femme sparklings could be put in adult bodies, and have sparklings of their own. We could create an army, and crush the Autobots when the time is ripe."
"Won't that take time?" asked Barricade.
"Well, of course it will take time, Barricade, but once she starts bearing, we can immediately transfer them into adult bodies," Starscream told him. "We can move around as need be and fight the Autobots off whenever they attack. Once we have her, we flyers can look for new places to hide both us and her. We keep our heads down, remain hidden, and change our alts if need be. We can even hide out in another country if being in this one gets awkward." He paused, then continued as he noticed he had gained not only Barricade's attention, but that of some of his grounder companions.
"Yes, we will have to be patient and to wait until our numbers are sufficient, but we will have the time, and in a few years, we can crush the Autobots with squadrons of Seekers to pound them from the air, and an army of ground mechs to tear their ground forces to shreds. Think of it, Barricade, and think how sweet revenge will be once the waiting is over and we can strike! And the time to seize her is as soon as possible, while we have the advantage of surprise. They do not know that we know about her, so we will seize her today, start creating our army now!"
He turned to the big tank-mech, Wreckage. "Is the auxilliary Base ready? Is there at least one secure cell ready that we could put her in?"
"Yes, Lord Starscream," he confirmed.
"Thundercracker, you fly there, ready to receive us when we arrive. Skywarp, you wait just outside, I'll need you so we can make a quick exit. The rest of you, come with me. We strike now, while they are unaware, which will help, but once they become aware of us, I will need you to fight them, get them occupied with keeping you at bay, while I sneak in and take the femme." He paused. "In eight hours, we will assemble ready for our attack. We take a further fifteen minutes to confirm who does what. Then, we attack!"
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Sam was learning, with the help of Bumblebee and Ratchet, to walk. Transforming, she was informed, would come later, and the U.S Military had been requested to come up with a range of small military vehicles so that she could choose a suitable one to scan and take the form of. Mikaela had turned in, her human body tiring, and Ratchet had ordered her to get some sleep.
The whole "Prime-protects-in-return-for-favours" thing had freaked Sam out, particularly when she found out that the literal meaning of the Cybertronian term for a Prime's femme companions translated as "She who is owned by the Prime."
"I'll be his slave?" Sam squeaked in horror, images of chains and handcuffs and kinky bondage toys scrolling though her processors. Ratchet shook his head with a snort.
"Sam, isn't it Optimus who told you that 'freedom is the right of all sentient beings?' None of a Prime's 'owned' femmes are slaves, and they all have to be willing to submit to being 'owned' before they become so. Just as, if they find another they like enough to be bonded to them, he must release them to the mech they choose." He sighed. "The whole 'lost in the translation' mess makes this awkward. Yes, if you agree, Optimus will 'own' the right to take time with you, either on or out of his berth, but that ownership claim is mainly for the benefit of the femmes."
"Yeah?" Sam asked sceptically. "Wanna explain how being his to command benefits me?"
"Gladly, if you'll shut up long enough for me to explain!" Ratchet growled. Sam was so startled that she shut her mouth and stared at Ratchet, her optics wide. Ratchet didn't waste the opportunity given, and launched straight into his explanation.
"The whole "Prime's Owned" title is the equivalent of a big "Hands Off!" sign to every other mech around," he explained. "While you are 'Prime's Owned' any mech who wants to even socialise with you must gain permission from Optimus to do so. I cannot see this being a problem: once you are under his jurisdiction, I am informed that myself, Bumblebee and Ironhide will be given special permissions to visit you or see you at any time that he does not request your presence."
"You mean, he has control over every move I make?" Sam asked.
"No, not at all, but he has the rights on who has access to you," Ratchet explained. "If you find any mech being a pest, and tell Optimus, he will not only restrict or totally ban the mech's contact with you, he will also talk to the mech and tell him in no uncertain terms that he is overstepping his authority. This does not mean that you cannot go and socialise with them, that is quite acceptable, but they must ask him for permission if they want to seek you out to spend time with you."
Sam reflected on this as she put one foot in front of the other, while Bumblebee held one of her hands and Ratchet held the other. It was a bit humiliating, having to learn how to walk again, but Ratchet promised her that she'd soon get the hang of it.
"It's not like having to train a sparkling, you already know the how and why, you know the mechanics. You just have to get used to your new form and the new centre of gravity your body possesses. Once you get used to balancing again, you'll be fine."
Sam hoped that that moment would come soon, and to her relief, it did. She wavered, then suddenly realised she wasn't pulling against Ratchet or pushing against 'Bee, but supporting herself on both feet. She stepped forward once, and then again, her confidence growing as she did not waver.
Suddenly Ratchet dropped her hand, and the loss of the light support on that side did make her wobble, but instead of falling on her aft or slumping in an undignified fashion against Bumblebee, she wavered and then found her balance again. For the next twenty minutes, she walked, then fast-walked, and eventually ended up running up and down with just Bumblebee supporting her on one side, as Ratchet excused himself and went out of the medbay muttering about 'time for someone's medical.'
It was during one of these running sprees that Bumblebee abruptly let go and stopped moving. Carried forwards by her own momentum, Sam kept going, and grabbed hold of the wall for support.
"What did you do that for?" she spluttered.
"Because you don't want to go through life balancing on me, and you're hardly using my support at all anyway," Bumblebee explained. He came to stand opposite her, across the medbay. "Here, come towards me –no, don't run, walk, - and then speed up, that's it, see, you can do it!" As Sam reached her, Bumblebee caught her hands and she found she only needed the slightest touch to keep her balance. Without needing to be told, she turned and walked back down to the other end, then turned back and, almost running, came back up.
Bumblebee picked her up exuberantly, twirling her round. "That's it, you're doing fine! Wait here a moment, I'll go and find Ratchet. He's gone to chase down Prowl for his medical in the rec room, but he'll want to give you exercises for practice, and check on your progress."As Bumblebee put her down and left the room, Sam grabbed hold of the med bay work table for balance, boosting herself onto it as she was still unused to standing.
She had been there for maybe two minutes, waiting for the medic and her friend to come back, when she heard a bang, followed by alarmed cries. She heard what she knew from Mission City were shots from Cybertronian weapons, and more shouting, then banging and running footsteps. She had never heard this sort of racket on the Base before, and wondered if she should be alarmed, whether she should investigate, or just stay where she was. As another shot sang through the air, unmistakably from Bumblebee's cannon, her curiosity got the better of her.
As she got off the work table, the med bay door opened. Looking up and expecting to see the medic or Bumblebee, the unasked questions on her lips died as instead of the familiar friendly forms she was expecting to see, the doorway was filled with the menacing form of Starscream, his arm-gun cocked and ready, his armour standing out in angles and points.
"Ah, Sam, just the femme I was looking for," he said, converting his gun back into a hand and advancing into the med bay. Sam shrank back, then found she could retreat no further as the work table was at her back.
She spun, and tried to run around it, but felt a hand seize the top of her arm and yank her back, felt another, aggressively familiar hand grab her about the body, touching across her chest and groping down, sharp knuckle-claws grazing along her belly and down her crotch plate, before seizing the edge of her hip and then lifting her up so her feet left the floor. "Come here," he heard the Seeker say, followed by a chuckle as Starscream turned and exited the med bay, still holding her. Realising she was not just being groped but abducted too, she began to thrash about and struggle, her elbows and feet clanging against metallic surfaces. Sam heard him chuckle again.
"Oh, I do like the feisty ones. You have a fiery Spark, it seems." Sam's struggles intensified and she kicked her feet backwards, feeling them impact at least once hard enough to dent the metal.
"Stop that!" the Seeker cried, seeming less amused, and then Sam felt herself put down and swung about to face Starscream before she felt one long metal hand strike her hard enough to make her knees buckle, her vision swim, and her audios ring. As she tried to cope with the disorientation this caused, she felt the Seeker pick her back up and pinion her against his body with his arms, immobilising her almost completely, his ankles held in one of his hands, her arms pinned down by his own and by being held tight against Starscream's armour.
As she felt the strange side-to side movement caused by the Seeker's gait, signifying that Starscream was on the move again, Sam struggled futilely, then, as panic swept over her, raised her voice in a piercing scream, and then again, hoping somebody would come to save her.
She got a dizzying impression of fighting in the corridor ahead, Autobots she knew fighting with some Decepticons she recognised, such as Barricade, but many of the mechs the Autobots were fighting were unknown to her. Abruptly she realised this was a full-on assault on the Base, and she struggled again, realising Starscream was making his way towards the open door. She saw a black and purple flyer pop into existence, hovering just outside the door, and had a sudden sinking feeling that if Starscream managed to reach this mech with her, it would all be over, at least for her.
Screaming and writhing against the Seeker again, Sam struggled, not registering the shadow that fell over her and the Seeker until she heard a feral growl and saw a red and blue arm reach forward, grab one of Starscream's wrists, and then pull and twist at the same time.
This time it was Starscream's time to cry out, and as Sam felt the grip of the flier weaken, she struggled again, and felt herself slip. More wriggling and a few more growls later, and then suddenly she was falling to the floor Starscream falling on top of her with a howl composed part of fear and part of frustration,.
It was too much for Sam to endure, changing gender and almost being abducted in less than 24 hours. Panicking, not thinking but acting, Sam scrambled out from under Starscream - who was too busy fending off the blows of Optimus Prime to worry about her - crawled to the side of the corridor, and then curled in a foetal ball, whimpering and hiding her optics.
She did not know how long she stayed like that, did not even recall hearing the sounds of fighting getting more distant and then ceasing altogether, nor recall hearing Starscream shrieking, first begging for mercy, and then to the Decepticons to retreat. She stayed, curled in a ball, crying and shaking, until she felt gentle hands reach down and turn her. She screamed again, flailing, but then Sam recognised the hands as those of Optimus, heard him saying "Easy, Sam, it's okay, you're safe now."
She reached her arms up. "Optimus! Help me! Save me! Don't let them take me!"
He paused, then reached down to put his hands under her shoulders. "Are you formally asking me to be your protector, to look after you, to care for you?" In his panic, Sam did not realise the significance of the request, merely saw Optimus as a source of safety.
"Yes!" she screamed, Please, protect me!"
She felt herself lifted gently, felt Optimus' big strong arms tighten around her and press her against that broad chest. Her splayed fingers felt metal plating, glass, and plastic, and she buried her face against him. She felt comforting and caressing strokes, felt Optimus straighten up, holding her securely against him.
"You have called upon me to be protected. I accept your request, and you are now Prime's Owned. I will care for you, look after you and protect you. You are safe now, Sam."
"Optimus, no, she's terrified and doesn't know what she's just agreed to! Give her the three months!" Ratchet protested.
"She has asked and I have accepted. This is now out of your hands, Medic. If she has need if your presence, I will call you. I am not stupid, nor insensitive, I will be careful with her. That is all. Go and repair our soldiers, they need you more than she does." With that, Optimus turned and walked through the doors of his office.
He walked past his desk and into his private room, placing Sam, still in her foetal position, on the berth. He easily rolled on next to her, pulling her gently to him, curling around her spoon-fashion. He stroked her, not in a sexual manner, but on her head, down her sides, smoothing his hands down her arms and legs, cupping and stroking her head gently in his big hands. The soothing motions had the desired effect as Sam relaxed and eventually dropped into recharge. Ratchet had warned that new bodies required frequent recharges for a while, Optimus recalled. With little else to do, he wrapped his arms about her, pulled her close to let his body heat warm her, and dropped into recharge himself.