Title: Consort 3 - Interrogation
Author: Femme4jack
Rating: NC-17
Continuity: AU Fusion of G1 - Bayverse - Aligned Continuity Family - IDW - etc. (in other words I'm picking and choosing stuff I like and making things up)
Characters & Pairings: Optimus Prime x Mirage, Megatron x Mirage, Alpha Trion
Summary: Only Primes were strong enough to force a truly one-sided merge, to know all there was to know in a spark while remaining completely transcendent. But remaining transcendent and aloof was the last thing Optimus wished to do.
Notes:For White Aster for her winning bid on the FandomAid Help Somalia Auction on livejournal. Thanks for the delicious prompt and for you generosity! Thank you to Merfilly for the wonderfully helpful beta and feedback. Also, I started a job this week, and have far less time to write (and am far more tired), so updates will not be as frequent, sad to say.
Chapter Warnings: Reference to past violent interfacing, present explicit mech/mech (spark, sticky), and I'm labeling it all noncon. (Even though Mirage consciously embraces his loyalty and obedience coding, he had no choice in the matter of having that coding in the first place, and thus it is noncon, imo. I really question whether Optimus had any true ability to choose at the end of this chapter as well.)
Optimus's optics were locked on the blue glow pouring from the chest of the mech he thought he had known, but who was now a complete enigma to him, though no less desirable and lovely. He felt his field expand in response, wanting something far different from the noble's spark than the interrogation he was about to subject it to. It was nearly impossible not to respond to a mech as finely forged as the one now bound in the brig.
Every Prime he could access had done what he was about to do at least once. Some of them many times, with little provocation. Some of his less noble predecessors were urging upon him their memories of the unsurpassed power of completely dominating another spark, of taking everything from it and giving nothing in return. Optimus brutally repressed those desires, calling forth instead the memories of those who had interrogated other sparks because they had to, for the good of their world rather than out of personal depravity.
No matter how strong, how powerful a mech might be, no one could go spark-to-spark with a Prime and win. A spark strong enough to bear and be strengthened by the Matrix could not be matched. Only Primes were strong enough to force a truly one-sided merge, to know all there was to know in a spark while remaining completely transcendent.
But remaining transcendent and aloof was the last thing Optimus wished to do. He wanted to plunge into Mirage's spark and claim it, to make the beautiful, vulnerable (treacherous, a voice whispered) creature writhe, beg and keen as Optimus reclaimed what was his from Megatron.
As Orion, he had sparkmerged for pleasure, comfort, and to strengthen the ties within his former cohort, most frequently with his anchoring trine, Ariel and Dion. The Matrix's symbiosis with him (parasitism, another part of his processor countered) had severed his cohort bonds. His spark was far too powerful now for anything resembling the mutuality found in a cohort. He had made the mistake of interfacing and merging with his former lovers once, shortly after his metamorphosis when he had not yet presented himself to the Council. The awe and reverence in place of their heretofore easy, laughter-filled merges was more than Optimus could bear.
The two now served together at the Autobot base defending the Tagan Heights and the important industrial production sector located there. He was glad they had one another, and gladder still that he did not have to interact with them on a regular basis.
"Do whatever you wish to me," Mirage finally whispered as the silence stretched and Optimus made no move to come closer. "I deserve whatever comes, and more, for having deceived you for so long, my Lord Prime."
The words startled Optimus out of his despondent reverie. He had wanted to be cold and distant to the spy, to dispassionately examine his spark, determine the extent of his guilt, and, if necessary, instantly mete out the consequences of Mirage's treachery. It was a duty. A burden that Primes sometimes were compelled to shoulder.
He could not remain cold when heat was pooling in his interface like molten metal.
"Why, Mirage?" Optimus finally said.
"I can't answer that question, my Lord Prime," Mirage said. "But my spark can."
It occurred to Optimus that Mirage was, literally, speaking the truth.
Optimus stared again at the vulnerable mech, open and waiting for him. His spike throbbed in its housing, and the desire to take, claim, and utterly own a mecha designed for that very function warred in him with an equally compelling urge to protect something so precious and beautiful. He had resisted the urge up until this point by keeping Mirage far, far away from him, busy in Jazz's division and on missions much of the time. To think that doing just that may have led Mirage to treachery...
"Optimus," Mirage said in a pleading tone, with a hint of exasperation. "Look in me."
Optimus found himself kneeling by the berth, undoing the magnetic restraints, and pulling Mirage to a seated position and then to straddle his lap. The static-edged sound that escaped from the Mirage's vocalizer had Optimus groaning, one hand gripping the graceful mech's aft to pull their panels flush together. Prime's other hand dipped in to caress the outer edge of Mirage's spark casing, and he felt a shiver run through the noble's frame
"This will hurt," Optimus said softly. "But not nearly as much if you don't resist."
"Please," Mirage begged again, trembling and seeming to desire the very thing Optimus both hungered for and was horrified by.
Optimus signaled his plates to part, somehow resisting the urge to retract his interface panel as well, and wrapped both his massive arms around the much slighter form.
Mirage's back arched, thrusting his chest forward as though his spark were magnetized to Prime's own, completing the distance before Optimus could pull him the rest of the way. The first brush of their coronas, and any thought of remaining aloof or distant vanished as the smaller blue brilliance was captured by tendrils of Prime's multi-hued spark. Prime's energies dove into Mirage's own and pulled him into the far larger orb.
It was as though something was unlocked in the spy, and Optimus found himself plunged into memories that eclipsed even his burning desires. He did not attempt to control the merge. He did not need to forcefully take when everything was freely offered.
Optimus saw Mirage examining himself, newly onlined and stunningly beautiful in all his gleaming, new-forged perfection. He felt the noble's certainty of function, his spark embracing his purpose without reservation. Optimus found himself caught up in Mirage's fantasy of himself on the arm of his intended, and then being ravished on an elegant and large berth by a mech far larger and more powerful than himself, experiencing the delicious completion of formatting himself around his bonded's every wish and desire, the perfect consort.
A blur through time, and then he watched Mirage many vorns later, traveling under his electro disruptor toward the pits of Kaon, the last place any highly forged noble would wish to go. It was several vorns before Mirage would present himself to Prime. He felt Mirage's resigned obedience as he was sent to one whom he had not been forged for, a self proclaimed warlord who was destroying everything Mirage had known. But his duty was to his House, to be given to whomever they chose, regardless of his original coding. Once he had bonded with the mech, the confusion and pain would ease. He would become whatever Megatron desired and needed, and would help his House survive and prosper ever as war tore down Cybertron's long standing powers and institutions.
With the images came the instant full knowledge that only merging sparks could bring.
The greatest engineer in Cybertronian history had been commissioned by Mirage's House to create the perfect consort for the next Prime, to be given as an ascension gift. Mirage had been forged to be stunningly desirable and coded to shape himself into whatever his Lord Prime would need him to be. But he was also designed to be useful beyond the berth chamber. Some of the most famous consorts in history had similar, but far less perfected versions of the electro disruptor shield technology. Mirage and Optimus both felt a surge as their sparks recognized the kinship they had as mechs so intimately shaped by Alpha Trion.
Mirage's House Lord had held off on making the gift. The succession had been in question, then the Matrix itself went missing for many vorns. When the new Prime had finally been proclaimed, he not only had no experience in politics, but also none in war, for all that he wore a warrior's frame. Optimus saw Mirage, silently grieving as he was informed by his House Lord of the change in plans. Megatron, for all his ridiculous populist rhetoric and open plans to purge Cybertron's governing institutions, had far better odds of ending up as the Matrix-bearer once the insanity of war had passed.
"The important thing is for us to survive and retain our power, Mirage," his Lord had intoned. "We must bond him to us as kin, make him dependent upon our funding and resources, and make sure he wins swiftly, decisively before too much is lost. Mecha like him have no processors or skills for politics, have no clue how to run a planet. Through you, our House will become the power behind his throne."
Mirage gave the only response it was appropriate for him to give, the only response his coding allowed him to give, despite the protests of his spark. "My place is to obey my Lord and bring glory to my House."
Optimus felt Mirage try to suppress the details of what came next, not in order to hide the truth, but to prevent him from feeling the pain of it. But it was no use. There was no hiding in this kind of merge, and Optimus refused to observe aloof and unfeeling.
Mirage had presented himself to his new Lord, and Megatron had thoroughly sampled his gift, exacting upon Mirage's frame his contempt for the nobles who had held Cybertron locked in their ruthless grasp for so long. It had been Mirage's first time in the berth of any mech, consort coding strict and demanding in that regard. He might have coding that surpassed even the most skilled pleasuremecha, but consorts were to be unsealed by no one save their intended.
Megatron had no use for a bonded consort, though plenty of use for a mech whose coding compelled obedience and loyalty, who had the finest electro disruptor shield in the history of the technology integrated into his protoform. He graciously accepted the new slave and the tribute funds, and in return offered to delay crushing Mirage's House, for now.
Megatron, however, had neither truly understood consort coding nor the intricate, bonded alliances between Cybertron's nobility. Consorts were given as gifts to bind one House to another. They were rare, precious, exquisitely coded, and their perfect loyalty and service came with the cost. Had Megatron bonded with his gift, following the old ways, he would have gained a formidable servant for the small price of his spark's recognition of Mirage's house as kin, making it far more difficult for the warlord to harm them.
But Megatron did not bond or even merge with other mecha. He willingly tortured Mirage's spark and casing, but never touched it with his own. To do so would be to reveal his own weaknesses, his needs. He used Mirage brutally, but never claimed him, never bonded with him and never activated the code that would truly make Mirage his.
Optimus's was enraged, though he was too enmeshed in the merge to hear his own roar of protest at the abuse of one who should belong to him. But he felt Mirage preen in response, and then quickly soothe away his anger, turning his Prime's attention to more important matters.
It had never occurred to Mirage's kin that Megatron would accept the rare gift of a highly forged consort without actually bonding with him and activating the code. Mirage, for his part, never corrected Megatron's false assumptions. The warlord believed he had a perfectly obedient consort to use as he pleased, and Mirage shaped a profile to be just that. But without the bond, it remained merely one of many profiles available to him, potential personae to be used to create his new core personality matrix once he fully understood his bonded Lord's desires.
But Mirage's House Lord had misjudged the situation as well, never considering that the the engineer who had crafted Mirage in the first place might have an agenda of his own. He had been instructed to create a perfect consort for the Prime, and Alpha Trion had deliberately taken that instruction literally. Mirage's loyalty coding to the Matrix-bearer was strong enough that the protocols remained dormant in him even after they had been edited by lesser programmers with Megatron in mind. Mirage was compelled to attempt to create a profile that was pleasing to his new Lord, to attempt to convince Megatron, ultimately, to complete the bond and forge the tie with his House. But he was also compelled by those dormant codes.
Then Megatron had made his second mistake regarding his consort. He had grown weary with his use of his new toy, and decided make use of his other skills, not against his own officers (he had Soundwave for that), but against the Autobots, and, specifically, to feed his obsession with the Prime who ascended from complete obscurity to oppose him.
"Slave," Megatron had commanded the broken mech on his berth. "Report to Hook for repairs. I am sending you to the Autobots. You are to deceive them into believing that your House sent you to Optimus rather than to me. Prime is far too fair to accept the gift that would privilege one House over another, so you will offer to serve him in other ways. Once you are trusted, you will use every opportunity to be in the presence of Matrix-bearer. I want to know everything about him. What he says and does in private, when alone with his officers, whom he interfaces with, his hungers and perversions. Anything that will be of use to me. Please me, and you and your House will continue to function. If you are caught, I will personally take the spark of every mecha in your precious tower."
"My place is to obey my Lord and bring victory to the the Decepticons," Mirage had intoned as his profile demanded of him.
The result had been a conflict so deep in Mirage's coding that his ability to function was nothing short of miraculous. But with Special Ops training enhancing his innate ability to create profiles, he had been able to feed Megatron's obsession without truly giving compromising intelligence, while allowing his originally coded loyalty, his spark-deep devotion to his original intended to slowly gain dominance over loyalty to either his House or his Lord. The tightrope Mirage walked spoke volumes of his growing skills, strength, and the near infinite will of his spark to be what he had been forged to be. Operating under his Decepticon profile, he had been able to withstand even Soundwave's scrutiny, while simultaneously spying for the Autobots, giving them valued intelligence that never compromised himself.
Finally, he had gained enough of an upper hand on his coding to break free, to no longer be compelled to return to the mech whom his protocols no longer recognized as his Lord. All that he needed now was for his true intended to claim him, bond with him so he could finally fulfill his original function and be the mech he had been forged to be, consort to the Prime.
When Optimus came back to himself, his spike was already pistoning itself deep in Mirage's valve, the smaller mech now on the floor beneath him, writhing and keening in a perfect echo of the fantasies he'd had as a newly forged consort. Something in Prime's spark screamed at him to stop the violation, images of Megatron's brutal use of the noble flashing through his processors. But the images only inflamed him further as he claimed what was his. Stopping was never a possibility. It was as though he had been but a cork in the sea of desires and appetites of not only his ancestors, but his own deepest self, and it took only moments before he had lost himself in a flood of a different kind.
He was too lost in self recrimination to sense the utter contentment spinning in Mirage's field, but instead scrambled away from the noble in horror.
"What have I done?" were the only words he spoke as he fled from the brig, pausing only long enough to order the stunned Prowl and Jazz to release Mirage to Ratchet's care.