Maelstrom Chapter 31
Conversations in the Kitchen: Chapter 2 C
Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a comic book! If you have not read the nine original Maelstrom Comics and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the URL here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there...and believe me I am a better artist than writer.
Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored! This scene contains strong language, violence, and sex.
Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Story and OC characters are mine. Critiques adored!
Maelstrom 31
Conversations in the Kitchen
Chapter 2
Getting to Know Everything About you
Part C
Continued from Part B!
In the kitchen, Lancer smiled to herself. It was so considerate of him to play decoy and give her some uninterrupted time with Foul Play. Hot Rod's presence in particular was likely to be detrimental to her schemes. She smiled wider at the proud Decepticon huddling timidly by the door frame.
"Hi Foul Play!" Lancer said encouragingly, meeting the girl's eyes. "What's up?"
Still off balance from the encounter with Rodi, all of Foul Play's carefully crafted options for how to begin evaporated.
"Why are you always throwing me up against Hot Rod? Do you want me to want him?!" Foul Play blurted. She cursed herself inwardly. Wrong. That was all wrong. She was in for it now!
"Do you want him?" Lancer asked quietly, compassionately.
Foul Play's eyes widened. She felt them swimming with repressed frustration, terror, and loneliness. It all came crashing down on her in that instant - all the fear of this new form, of living with enemies, of the changes within her own soul that she couldn't stop or understand. Life had been so much simpler before. Hard, but simple, like a knife blade. Then it had merely been a matter of following orders and watching her back. Now she didn't know who or even what she was.
Who was she to be confronting this woman? Asking help of her? To ask for help amongst the Decepticons was to admit weakness - and the weak never survived. Why was Lancer looking at her with ever more apparent concern when Foul Play didn't answer? Why should Lancer care? Why should anyone? Foul Play nearly wished that Lancer would look at her with derision - at least Foul Play could have understood that.
"I..." Foul Play paused, and swallowed hard, "I...." She sighed gustily and stared at the ceiling - the lights seemed painfully bright. Surely that was why her eyes were watering. She bowed her head. "yes," she whispered. She sat down at the table and buried her head in her arms. She heard Lancer getting up to move to the chair next to her, but it wasn't until the mutant put an arm around Foul Play's shoulders that the Decepticon lost control of the tears. She didn't sob, but her arms got quite damp.
"It's all right," Lancer said.
"No it isn't. It never will be! I'm a Decepticon!" Foul Play said bitterly, quietly. "He's an Autobot! And naturally he just had to be Prime's son!"
"Well, no matter what happens, it won't be easy Foul Play, but you and Hot Rod are both strong, intelligent people. It's going to be hard, but it isn't hopeless." Lancer said with quiet conviction.
"How would you know?" Foul Play said sullenly.
Lancer smiled sadly. "I know from my own experiences, and I know it is possible for Autobots to accept Decepticons if they change - we have a few of them back home, most notably Blitzwing."
"Blitzwing? That arrogant, dim-witted, loud mouth?" Foul Play exclaimed.
"Yup. That one, although his wits are less dim now that he actually thinks about things once and a while," Lancer said.
"But...how?...Why....?" the young Decepticon stammered. She couldn't continue. Blitzwing!
"The "Why" isn't really important right now," Lancer said. "It's a long story which isn't really relevant to your problem. What you DO need to know is that he's not "Blitzwing The Decepticon" to the Autobots anymore. He's just Blitzwing. Or even just Blitz. It wasn't easy, but even those who had old grudges against him from all the years of fighting now work beside him and trust him with their lives in combat and at home. He ceased to be an opposing soldier, and became an individual. You've already seen the process at work. The Autobots here think of you as part of their group. If they ever think of you as a Decepticon, the thought is immediately followed by surprise that they trust you as much as they do."
"M..maybe..." Foul Play mused, "but that's only because Magnus defended me, and kept them from hurting me or driving me so crazy I hurt them! It gave them time to realize I was too scared to try anything stupid!" Foul Play stopped, once again, in amazement at herself. Had she just admitted to being scared? She had - and without even realizing it was coming. Her survival skills were deteriorating at an appalling rate. She knew Lancer wouldn't hurt her somehow, but would she keep up with the carelessness when she went back? She was afraid she would. She was very afraid she would.
"How do you know he won't defend you again?" Lancer asked. "I think he rather respects you. He knows none of this can have been easy for you."
"He'll probably kill me himself if he learns I'm attracted to his precious nephew!" Foul Play said. It was meant to sound defiant, but her voice betrayed her by quavering. The thought of facing an angry Ultra Magnus still scared her nearly witless.
Lancer snorted and chuckled a little. "He may surprise you. However, if he DOES go ballistic then he's going to have to go through Rodi and me to get to you." She patted Foul Play's hand comfortingly. Foul Play stared down at their hands in total amazement - she was completely unused to having allies who didn't have some "use" for her.
"You really do want to help me! Why? What about your twin? Don't you want her to have Hot Rod if she exists?"
Lancer smiled sadly again. "I do want to help you, Foul Play. I think you and Hot Rod would be good for each other. We aren't all that unlike each other, you and I anyway. You are a strong person, and no matter what, his mate is going to have to be strong to put up with him. To keep up with him. I think you have the ...endurance, and the will to kick him in the ass when he needs it."
"As for my possible twin, if she even exists in this dimension she is likely to be a civilian human with no desire to come within ten miles of any Transformer. My mutancy has led me down this warrior's road, otherwise I'd have been delighted to live a quiet life with no conflict whatsoever. If she and Hot Rod ever did meet, she wouldn't have the strength to deal with him, and he'd probably find her quite dull. Besides, you're a Transformer, and you are definitely my first pick over any human, even myself."
Foul Play blinked at her, uncomprehending. Having lived her whole life among people who boasted their superiority for any and all circumstances, she wasn't used to someone freely admitting they might not be well suited for something... or someone.
Lancer saw her confusion and answered it. "Foul Play, we humans don't live very long. I have to continually remind Rodimus that some day my body will give out and I will leave him alone. I wish he would look at other Transformers that way. Cybertron gets more females all the time these days, but he doesn't look at them as potential mates. It makes me crazy. I can't stand the thought that he might live most of his life alone, and if this dimension's Hot Rod can avoid that trap, so much the better!"
"You mean you encourage him to find someone else?!" Foul Play gasped.
"If I sensed the slightest bit of interest on his part, I'd light the candles myself!" Lancer said firmly, ignoring Rodimus' disgusted sendings. She could see though that Foul Play didn't understand the reference to candles at all. Lancer smiled apologetically for confusing her. "Yes, I encourage him. He, however, remains stubbornly unaffected."
Foul Play was once again amazed, as she had been when the others had helped Magnus through his flashback. These people really cared about each other. Really! To the point they were willing to sacrifice their own best interests for each other. She suddenly wished she could explain this to her fellow Decepticons. It was real! All of the "propaganda" the Autobots spread about sticking together, and caring for each other was real, and yet the Decepticons were raised thinking it was all trickery. They thought of themselves as being the honest ones, who displayed their greed for power openly instead of shrouding it in a complicated web of "friendships". Oh how she wanted to show them they were wrong, but knew, in her heart, that they wouldn't believe her anymore than they did the occasional Autobot who tried to convince them. Having never experienced it, they couldn't comprehend it. Mere words weren't enough. Even she, having lived amongst these people, having had their kind of support for herself, was only now just beginning to understand the scope of it. She was only just beginning to even recognize it for what it was. Its power awed her - and yet she knew she hadn't plumbed the depths of it yet. She felt great sorrow for her ignorant people, and wished she could somehow create a situation in which they could also discover it for themselves.
Lancer watched Foul Play muse a while, and then continued. "In the end Foul Play, it doesn't much matter what I think, or what Rodi thinks, or even what Magnus thinks. What matters is what you think - and how much you are willing to endure for Hot Rod - and how much he is willing to endure for you. If he isn't interested, I'm afraid none of the rest of it matters...not even how much you want him."
"I....I know...." Foul Play whispered. "I'm afraid he doesn't want me. I'm even more afraid of that than of Magnus. I almost wish I could stop wanting him so I wouldn't need to face him about it - it would be much easier."
Lancer snorted, "Yes, it would. Unfortunately it doesn't work that way. Believe me, I tried."
Foul Play sobbed a little, and Lancer squeezed her hand.
"I wish I could go back to being what I was!" the Decepticon sniffled.
"No you don't," Lancer said.
"I wouldn't be facing living with these yearnings for the rest of my life!" Foul Play said harshly.
Lancer cocked an eyebrow. "You haven't talked to him yet Foul Play. It's a little soon for dire predictions, you're starting to sound like Dead End." Lancer smiled to herself, pleased to have produced the desired giggles from her student, who sniffled and smiled at the same time.
"I'm just nervous that's all," Foul Play admitted, "I've never...felt this way about anything. Nothing's ever been this important to me before. I...I don't think I cared about myself as much as I care about Hot Rod. I was just...existing. Now...I want to live. When I'm with him...I do. I live. If I lose him, I'm afraid I won't anymore."
Lancer sighed. She knew what Foul Play meant, and she heard it from Rodimus in reference to her whenever she threw her mortality in his face. She gave Foul Play the same answer she gave her mate.
"You'll live. It will just take more effort on your part. That's what love gives us Foul Play - it makes living simpler. When we see something beautiful, when there is something we enjoy, it seems better when there is someone to share it. And bad things seem easier to endure when we aren't alone. However, the beauty and enjoyment are there for us even when we're alone, as is the strength to endure - it's just a little harder, that's all. If Hot Rod isn't interested, you must accept that, but you must not quit trying. It IS possible to fall in love more than once, and it is possible to live by yourself. You are a worthwhile person, and you deserve to live....and you will, no matter how things with Hot Rod turn out. However, and keep in mind I could be misreading him, I do think he is interested Foul Play, but you have to talk to him. Most of what you fear will really be his to endure."
Foul Play thought about that and realized with some alarm that Lancer was right. If she and Hot Rod did somehow form a relationship, he would be the first likely target for the consequences. It was something she hadn't considered - she assumed that as the Decepticon in question, all of the blame would fall on her. Her fear suddenly increased to the point Lancer could "see" visible changes in her heart-rate and nervous response - above the more visible signs of clenched fists, pale skin, sweat, and hyperventilation.
"M..maybe I shouldn't approach him!" Foul Play said in distress. "I don't want to get him into trouble!"
Lancer smiled internally. She was now certain this "Decepticon" was feeling more than selfish lust.
"Now, Foul Play. He certainly needs no help from you to get into trouble. And there is certainly no one better at getting out of it! Look what he pulls off around here - even on Magnus! And yet he's miraculously still breathing! Don't underestimate him...or yourself. If he truly wants you, you will find the alliance you make to be the most potent of your life. If I told you half of the things I've seen people in love endure for each other and survive, you wouldn't have any doubts."
Foul Play didn't look convinced.
Lancer sighed. "Talk to him."
"But..."
"Talk to him!"
"But..."
Lancer suppressed a snarl of frustration. She briefly considered telling Foul Play about Marissa's trial by fire when Magnus had been possessed by Unicron in Lancer's dimension, but changed her mind. It would cause too many uncertainties in their twins here. She opted for her own story instead, explaining how she'd let the demon drive her away from Rodimus, and how the separation had nearly killed them both. She spent a lot of time dwelling on how grateful she was to her mate for letting her go, and holding the shield in spite of the pain it caused him. She went into detail of all she'd put him through after they got back together as well, and how his support, and devotion had seen her through until she'd finally healed. She even, without naming names, described Kup's open hostility, and the more subtle, but still palpable suspicion she had aroused in many of the others. She did the best she could to make it easy for Foul Play to draw parallels from her own situation. Lancer didn't mince words, or try to hide how hard it had been - far from it. She wanted Foul Play to see the worst of it, because she knew the 'Con was in for a rough ride no matter what, but also because she wanted to show that even extreme circumstances could be conquered.
She finally left Foul Play alone, brooding over everything they'd discussed at the kitchen table.
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Lancer hadn't been out of the kitchen ten minutes when she caught Ultra Magnus heading for the bathroom. He was bleeding from his left hand and wore an expression like a mushroom cloud.
"Do I dare ask what happened?" Lancer quipped lightly, looking at the small gash on the heel of his hand.
Magnus growled a bit under his breath, and then straightened - looking at her evaluatingly.
"I have a request," he stated flatly, apparently ignoring her question.
"Yes?" Lancer asked.
"How would you feel about a few more students?"
Lancer arched an eyebrow. "How many more?"
"All of us."
"Uh...OK. May I ask why the sudden leap in enrollment?" Lancer asked, although she was fighting to suppress a smile. Rodimus was sending her visuals of recent moments.
"Lets just say I had a close encounter with one of my clumsier subordinates as he was stupidly trying to catch your mate and failing miserably."
"You and Hot Rod side-stepped each other and you stepped right in front of Springer," Lancer elaborated for him with a wicked grin, "He couldn't maneuver well enough to avoid you."
"How did you kno....oh right. Mind linked to that laughing hyena. I don't know how you stand it. Will you teach us? I'm tired of having no control over my own body," Magnus said gruffly.
"You do alright. But yeah, I'll teach you. Be warned though, I won't spare your ass or your pride."
"I wouldn't want it any other way." Magnus said.
X
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The next morning, Springer, Arcee, and Magnus joined Hot Rod and Foul Play on the dew-soaked lawn. Lancer tested Arcee the way she had Hot Rod and Foul Play, but it was Rodimus who tested the larger boys.
"The dodges I would use to evade an opponent that much bigger than myself don't make for a good test," Lancer explained.
Springer certainly didn't need encouraging going after Rodi, and exhibited none of the trepidation Hot Rod had the day Lancer tested him. For all of Springer's enthusiasm, Rodimus simply brushed the hits to one side or the other, deflecting the force away from himself and annoying Springer to no end.
Worse, Rodi had time and energy to critique him as they went. "Your strength isn't a problem," Rodimus informed Springer as he evaded another punch. "You don't direct it effectively though. You over-use your sword hand and you are attacking my strong points - like my chest, instead of weak points like my joints too often. You're pulling your blows too. Are you trying to spare me or do you always hit that way?"
"This's how an Autobot fights," Springer told him. "We don't try to kill everything."
"That's how a single war can go on for millions of years," Rodimus growled. Springer struck at him and Rodi suddenly blurred forward, trapping his arm and throwing him to the ground. Springer gasped in shock as Rodi plunged a stiff-fingered blow into the earth by his ear, leaving no doubt he could have broken through Springer's skull if he had aimed for it. "Humans don't deserve to have generations of their kids grow up in the shadow of our conflicts. This fooling around is costing more lives than it saves." The assassin stood and turned to face the City Commander. "Your turn Magnus."
"I...do not fight like an Autobot," Magnus rumbled at him. He was worried.
"I know. I knew before you told us about being a gladiator, Magnus. Don't worry. We take your skills seriously, but we need to know what you can do before we can refine it."
"I just don't want to hurt anyone," Magnus said. "If I go into a flash-back I won't hold back."
"Don't hold back anyway. We need to see what you can do, not some half-assed version of it. I can take some punishment too," Rodimus reminded him, "and if things get out of hand Lancer will just drop us both."
"But," Magnus said. Lancer had put him on the ground before, but not when he was already fighting.
"I'm a mutant, remember? I'll just tweak your nervous system and down you will go," Lancer assured him cheerfully.
Magnus stared at her, "You really scare me sometimes," he informed her. She grew fangs and grinned for him.
"Come on Mags, quit flirting with my mate and hit me already. I know you've been dying for an excuse," Rodimus said.
Magnus didn't turn his head, but his arm lashed out towards Rodi's shoulder in a blurring viper strike. His hand encountered air, but when he turned he saw Rodimus had been forced to contort backwards a bit to avoid the blow. A slow, satisfied smile that was as un-Hot Roddish as anything Magnus had seen on Rodi spread across his face. The assassin was impressed...and glad to be so.
"OO!" Lancer laughed, "You're gonna have to sweat for this one, my beloved."
The next twenty minutes were unlike anything Magnus had ever experienced in his life-time. At first, Rodimus just let him do all of the striking, like they had with the others, but soon he was testing Magnus defenses by hitting back. Magnus began the session with far more trepidation than his troops, naturally enough, but was both relieved and frustrated when Rodimus blocked or dodged every strike. There was satisfaction in seeing he was making Rodi work for it. It wasn't long before they were both covered in sweat.
Gaining confidence in the ability of his opponent to stand up to him, and a bit amazed at having a sparring partner who was obviously enjoying himself instead of quaking in fear, Magnus opened up more and more of the brutal bag of tricks he had invented as a gladiator...only to find them dodged, blocked, and eventually, countered.
When Rodimus launched his first offensive attack it almost took Magnus down. It was another stiff-fingered strike at the nerves in Magnus' armpit. The grinning assassin didn't warn Magnus the rules had changed; he just struck faster than the eye could follow. Magnus couldn't put his finger on what warned him but the instincts that saw him through the games propelled his body backwards enough to avoid the nerve-deadening blow.
As it was he got a massive bruise on his pectoral muscle that would have Marissa applying ice to it later. Dimly, he heard the watchers gasp. He wondered if they now expected him to just go nuts and kill his opponent. Seeing Prime leap up and go OVER his head in a tight somersault, Magnus was glad he had never faced Rodimus in the gladiator ring. Even if he had been so inclined, he doubted he could have easily killed Rodi.
Lancer paced around the perimeter of the fight in circles with a blood-thirsty leer. The others stood around in amazement. None of them had ever seen their City Commander move quite like this before. He was notorious on the battle-field but his opponents usually fell so quickly! Rodimus didn't seem at all about to fall. Even on the three occasions Magnus landed a blow on him he flowed with it and the impact lost most of its power each time.
Lancer crowed. "Good! That hurt! Looky there my students. See how Magnus puts all of that mass behind his hits? You can see his whole body follow through the blow."
"Yeah, but he misses a lot!" Springer pointed out.
"Well, my mate has learned to dodge, and to move with a blow he can't avoid. Keeping your balance is important but it is better to fall before a blow you can't avoid than to take the force of it."
As if to illustrate, they watched Magnus launch a series of lightning fast punches at Rodi. The red-head ducked sideways, then bent backwards underneath the next blow, and then rolled under the last and up again behind Magnus. The City Commander was gasping for air, but he whirled around and kicked out in the same motion, precisely where his opponent should have been. Rodimus was already airborne and throwing a kick into Magnus' chest, toppling him. Magnus bent away from the kick and rolled, scrambling back to his feet quicker than anything that tall should manage. It was clear though that he was tiring.
Crouching, he lunged at Rodimus who side-stepped at the last instant and then got behind Magnus somehow. He grabbed Magnus' head in a grip that stunned the City Commander with its strength. He felt the blood to his head constricted briefly and knew himself to be defeated.
"You're dead," Rodimus told him. The assassin had the respect not to gloat. He held Magnus just long enough for him to feel dizziness and asphyxiation for a second, and then let him go. "Well done. No one but Lancer has ever stood that long."
"No one but you has ever stood against me, ever," Magnus gasped. He rested a minute on the ground before getting slowly to his feet.
"I wore you down. You're endurance needs work," Rodimus said.
Magnus glared at him, "You are sweating...but you aren't winded. Why?"
Rodimus looked sadly at him, "Some of our battles go on for days Ultra Magnus....and every time I morph back to Autobot form it restores me to optimum condition. You have been bed-ridden and idle for most of your time as a human. It will be a while before you can call yourself in shape again."
"Why do I have a feeling you won't let it take all that long?" Magnus said, glaring and smiling at Rodi in the same instant.
Rodimus grinned at Magnus with such a feral leer that Magnus half expected to see Lancer's fangs.
X
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Thus began a new routine at Carly's house. People got up early - like it or not. They ate their breakfast quickly, with little conversation because lessons began promptly at 6 am and if your food wasn't in you too bad. Carly was glad of the tall privacy fence and thick shrubs around her property since she shuddered to think of what the neighbors would have said about a gaggle of people grunting and cussing their way through Lancer's stretching regime. Spike's video equipment got a lot more use filming such moments as Springer trying to stand on one foot, and Magnus trying to touch his forehead to his knee. Ever the helpful one, Rodimus taught the gang some Drazi curses to help them express their enjoyment. By nine AM, the students would mark their progress by seeing who was still in good enough shape to beat everyone else to the shower. Hot Rod and Foul Play usually took first and second place - being the most advanced students. The stretches and balancing exercises still left them with some muscle tone to run with. They got the hot water as a reward. Everyone else knew their place in the pack by whether or not their water was merely tepid or outright freezing.
Lancer and Rodimus didn't compete with the rest. After working the beginners over they would then test their own skills on each other. By the time they were done the other showers were long over and the water was usually hot again. If it wasn't, Lancer simply sent energy into the water heater and warmed it up. This useful trick she and Rodi kept firmly secret. They both felt the desire for a warm shower was very powerful motivation for her students to excel.
After their shower they went back to work on the teleporter. Over the next few weeks they slowly found and fused broken connections. Lancer went nearly cross-eyed sparking minuscule bolts of power into hair-thick wires to seal severed connections. They bought a magnifying glass, then a microscope. The further in they went the more breaches Lancer had to seal. The two of them took the device apart and rebuilt it so many times they hardly needed their notes any more. At night the various components swirled through their dreams. Lunch came and went around them, but they often failed to notice. Carly drew the line when they started ignoring dinner was in progress too. Still, when tested on various pieces of trash, the teleporter twisted everything they sent through it into unrecognizable blobs.
X
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Spike came tearing into the kitchen, fire-extinguisher in hand, only to find Rodi calmly waving smoke out of the window Lancer was throwing open.
"It's OK Spike...there's no fire. We 'ported a soda bottle across the room and it melted." Rodimus' voice was forcefully cheerful, but he spoke through clenched teeth.
Spike shook his head and put down the extinguisher. "You guys haven't made ANY progress." It wasn't a question. The "I'm frustrated for you" tone in his voice had unexpected consequences.
Lancer was staring out of the window. She drove her fingernails into the wood and felt it splinter. Spike's words washed over her and then she just broke. The dread she and Rodi were desperately denying crushed her and she slid down the wall to the floor as if it were a physical weight she couldn't resist. Noise was beyond her. Anger she could express, but pain and despair were forever muffled by Rodi's torture chamber silence. She felt tears on her cheeks with shock, and tried to hide them by wrapping her arms around her knees and burying her face behind them. Rodimus grimaced, stricken. He crossed the room in about two steps, kneeling on the floor in front of her and gathering her up in his arms.
Spike saw the tears on her face as she clung to her mate, and was at a loss. He had seen this woman challenge Magnus and take on a full-sized flash-backing Autobot. Now she was crying over a melted pop-bottle? Instinct took over and he waved wildly at Marissa who was clucking over Magnus' training bruises in the next room. She was there in a flash. Magnus followed much more stiffly in her wake.
Marissa wasted no time reaching the huddle on the floor.
Rodi was whispering, "We'll make it. They'll be fine. We'll make it," over and over.
Lancer was silently shaking her head. Tears and all, she seemed fierce, and glared off into space.
"What's wrong?" Marissa asked fearfully. "I thought you felt you were getting somewhere."
"It's the crystal," Lancer said aloud, but to her mate, not Marissa. "It's the crystal and I can't bloody weld that Rodimus! I can not fix that and neither can you! We need a new one! We need HELP!" Her voice rose, and the tears in it warped into demonic snarls. "We are leaving our girls unprotected! They'll be enslaved! They'll be Converted! We shouldn't have left them! How can we have left them? There could be slavers gang-raping Edana right now and we are fucking around playing football! What if we DO fix it? It is not supposed to cross-dimensions...maybe it was broken to begin with! Even if we get it to work we might not get back to the right dimension! Or the right time! What if we end up there after it's two hundred years too late?" She shuddered and clenched her fists. The pain from where her talons cut through the habitual scars almost calmed her.
Rodimus pulled her in tighter and said nothing out loud or mentally. He had no words of comfort to allay her fears. They were justified.
Continued in Part D