Rated: M for adult themes: language, violence, mental rape, character death, mech erotica, torture, gore, and suicidal ideation. This varies from chapter to chapter, so read at your own risk.
Important Note: I started this series of fics before Revenge of the Fallen hit the theaters. This is an A.U. 2007 movie verse fic, NOT a ROTF/DOTM/AE/LK/BB or whatever follows fic.
Disclaimer: The only thing I own in this work of complete fiction is Velocity/Sira and Hardcore. They are mine. Everything else is copyrighted and owned by some really rich people. I make no money from this but wish I could.
XxxX
Full Velocity: Apocalypse Code
Chapter 7: The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Intentions
XxxX
He found Velocity in the desert, perched on a hill overlooking the base and town below. Seated among the boulders, her cheek resting on her knees, she randomly flicked small rocks. The stones tumbled down the hill, and as the bouncing echoes of one ended, she would choose another to launch haphazardly. The femme did not look at him as he approached, but the minuscule relaxing of armored plates told him she accepted his presence.
Lowering himself, he sat beside the flame-colored femme, careful not to touch her as she stopped tormenting the geology and wrapped her arms around her knees. He could not detect her electrical field even at this close range as she held her emotions tight, pulling them around her like a shroud. Optimus watched the riot of thoughts play across the femme's features and behind her optics. He gave her time.
The valley lay below them, flat and empty except for the distant town snuggled next to the military base. Buildings huddled beside a long landing strip, structures as bland and unappealing as the dry land around them. This area did not appeal to him; something about it agitated his circuits. Maybe it was the lack of permanence or the hasty decision to relocate here. Whatever it was, Optimus had no intentions of making Creech and Indian Springs the new Autobot base.
"How was the meeting?" Velocity calmly asked.
Optimus nodded slowly; the meeting - a safe enough topic and the perfect segue. "It went as expected. The mayor is concerned we will pull all support from Indian Springs, leaving the citizens helpless. The Base Commander only tolerates us for what we bring regarding resources and defense. After the Humans left the meeting, we turned to the matters of Decepticons, war, and Cybertron."
Tipping his head to observe the femme, the Prime continued, "I wish you had stayed. Much was discussed, and now there is much for you and me to discuss."
Velocity blurted out, "I couldn't stay. I am mad all the time. Everything sets me off, and sometimes I can't stand being near Cybertronians; their presence makes me furious. I want to hurt them." Terrified green optics met his, and her vocals crackled with the strain of emotion. "I am afraid I will lose control and hurt someone. I don't want to be this way, but I cannot turn it off. Somedays, I hate you all." Burying her face in her knees, Velocity muffled her moans.
He turned to face her and crossed his legs. Reaching toward his mate, Optimus slid his fingers along her jawline until he could use them to pull her helm up, forcing her to look at him. A pitiful femme stared back; Prime did not need their bond to know her confession had broken her, and she waited for his judgment and ridicule.
He would give her neither, choosing understanding and insight instead. "Do you understand what you are?"
Mirthlessly she answered, "A fucking mess." Then rubbed her cheek against his palm.
The shadow of a lone buteo crossed between them as the hawk flew overhead.
Releasing her, the Prime looked upward, his optics watching the raptor, then focusing beyond the clear blue sky.
Velocity watched him, only giving the bird and beyond a cursory glance.
"Out there," Optimus began, "Littering the galaxy, spaceports link trade routes and serve as waystations for merchants, traders, vagabonds, explorers, and criminals, places to rest, refuel, and recharge. Spacefaring species, who would never normally meet, sit side by side in the canteens and bars, stroll next to each other along the bazaar, and share pools in the bathhouses. They negotiate, collaborate, gossip, attempt to mate, and fight each other."
A quick glance told him his mate listened intently, and her electrical field loosened and brushed warmly against his; sparks of curiosity encouraged him to continue.
"Over exotic drinks and more exotic meals, traders tell stories of their travels, alien worlds they visited and other species they encountered."
"Sounds like an interesting place." Emerald optics followed his gaze skyward.
"Spaceports are. If you ever stepped ped on one, I fear I would have to drag you away."
Velocity offered a small snort of derision and stretched her legs in front of her. "I doubt you need to worry about that." She pushed a rock with her finger.
Optimus did worry. Her nature could make the next phase of their lives together difficult if she did not understand herself. "Traders relayed gossip from across the galaxy. They discuss news, rumors, myths, political upheavals, civil wars, new trade partners, and off-limit planets."
The last words had the effect he hoped for, and Velocity tipped her head to the side, her curiosity fully piqued and focused on him.
"Traders would tell of worlds no one should visit. Worlds owned and created by intergalactic business consortiums run by advanced species; planets built and seeded with life for future harvest. They would talk of the beasts guarding these worlds, creatures created by the planet's architects to protect from other species, species like mine, mechanoid.'
A frown creased her brow arches together.
"My species can and does mine primitive worlds for ore and fuel." He admitted, though the war had brought it all to an end.
Cycling his vents and shifting his weight, the Prime continued. "These guardians would disguise themselves and hide among the native species and only reveal their existence if their world was threatened. Powerful beings with metal-shearing claws, alloy-crushing fangs, and thick fur mottled with stripes. They kill Cybertronians with ease. Beasts only rumored but never fully documented for they left few survivors."
The femme chuckled. "Ooooo, the Boogeyman for mechanoids. It is all very interesting, but why are you telling me this?" Humor radiated from her, and she leaned back on her elbows.
"There is evidence that Earth is a created world, and I believe you are a descendant of the guardians. Your natural form fits the common description, and your anger is your innate need to protect your world."
Optimus watched the femme, uncertain of her reaction.
Velocity blinked twice, her expression blank; she slowly cycled her vents, then busted into peals of hysterical laughter. "Oh gods, from the bottom of your peds to the tippy top of your finials, you, Optimus Prime, are full of grade-A bullshit." She continued chuckling. "Thank you for cheering me up. I love the part about being designed by some super aliens able to build planets; that is quite a feat."
Another peel of laughter erupted from the femme.
Remaining serious, the Prime waited for her giggles to subside. "I am not joking. There are architect species, exceedingly more advanced than Cybertronians. Aloof and distant, they build solar systems and wait billions of years to harvest planets. Water, minerals, metals, biomass for food and fuel, all taken when the architects deem the world ripe and ready."
The smile slid from Velocity's features, and uncertainty filled her optics. Sitting up, she clamped her dental plates together, grinding them. Pulling her knees to her chest, she wrapped her arms around them, pulling back into herself.
"The sword you carry, the core is made from an alloy not found on Earth or even this galactic quadrant. Your DNA held evidence of spliced genes; the original sources were not terran. Nothing like you could exist on this planet; your race was manufactured and planted here."
"Stop talking." The words held a soft growl. Everything about Velocity tightened. Armor plates pressed against her frame, optic shutters narrowed, and her electrical field pulled away from his with a sharp crack.
Determined to make her understand, Optimus did not relent. "No, you need to know what you are and why you react with such hostility. My theory explains everything about you. You sense energy fields like a mechanoid so that you can hunt mechanoids. You can manipulate metals, a perfect offense against my kind. You have hidden among the humans, rarely showing your true form. Why did you head west? What pulled you toward Tranquility and us?"
"Velocity, nothing about you belongs naturally to Earth; you are what we call a Nimiric, a Guardian. A creature from myth."
"So, I am – what did you say – designed?" the words were spit with disgust. "A creation of another species, something grown in a lab?" Her optic shutters narrowed in a challenge as she squeezed her arms around her knees.
"We are all the creations of other species; some worship them as gods or demons." Optimus wanted to quench the femme's fire before it scalded them both. "Whether your ancestors were created or not is irrelevant. You are as real as I am. Whereas plants, animals, and humans formed and evolved from the seeds of life, your species was placed later and allowed to…."
"Leave me alone."
"Velocity, you need to…."
"You need to shut the fuck up!" she yelled, rage burning in her optics.
She would not listen to anything else he said to her. The discussion was over, and he did not care to push her any further. Pulling himself to a standing position, the Prime considered picking up the ball of a femme and wrestling her back to the base but decided against it. She would return when she worked through the information.
Turning, Optimus left Velocity to her thoughts.
XxxX
Ironhide waited for him, a shadow between the buildings. "Did you tell her?"
With a sigh of his vents, Optimus answered, "No."
Walking with him, the old mech pressed the issue. "Seriously? So, when are you going to tell her you need to return to Cybertron, or is this a repeat of the shit you did to Elita?"
The Prime considered punching the mech in the abdominal plates. He had suffered enough wounds from Velocity's heated words; he did not need reminding of past failures. "Watch your words."
"Or what?" Ironhide stepped in front of him, blocking his path. "What will you do, drag that wild beast aboard the Parhelion and hope she doesn't hurt too many crew members? Or maybe, tell her the situation, how Cybertron is dying and only you can open the Well and…"
"It isn't that easy," Optimus protested and hung his head. "She will refuse to leave Earth; her nature will make it impossible."
"You knew this when you bonded yourself to her.
"Yes, but I don't want to hear her say she chooses the Earth over me."
XxxX
Velocity did not return to him last night. He stayed active, avoiding recharge, for when she came back, she never did. He had to find her and fix whatever damage his idiotic conversation caused. Instead of telling her what he needed to, he ripped open old wounds of never belonging, not knowing her true self, and not being good enough. He knew her fears; across the bond, he felt them torment her all night.
Opening their connection, he let it guide him to her. Fortunately, she had not wandered far and even returned to the base.
Velocity sat behind the barracks, her team, minus Roadhazard, around her. Deep in their own discussions, the group had not spotted him; therefore, he stayed in the shadows of a building and watched. They all sprawled on the ground, maps unfolded and weighted by rocks, datapads scattered about as Velocity and her team discussed and plotted their next reconnaissance trip. Slipknot sat next to Velocity, and as Optimus watched, the mech leaned toward her, bumping against her frame, and slid a hand down her back. If his mate noticed, she did not show it as she reached for Kaleidoscope's datapad, saying something to the brightly colored mech.
A sigh reverberated through the Prime's frame, his hands curling into fists. Any ambitious Autobot would see Velocity as a quick path upward, incur her favor, and they could have the Prime's backing. Cybertronian society considered it normal for nobles to readily interface with others, creating webs of intimacy, alliances, and data exchanges. The lower classes discouraged such behavior, considering it immoral and dangerous. When many of the lower classes could not afford to pay for medic services, corrupted files and digital viruses from interfacing became a frivolous waste and stigma. Orion had not been of the noble class and preferred not to share himself or his mate; even as the Prime, he and Elita remained devoted only to each other. Velocity did not think like a high-status Cybertronian; she would not recognize the subtle cues, and a simple misunderstanding could create exorbitant problems. Also, the incident with the Decepticon gave Optimus an extra reason to end this.
Strolling forward, the Prime waited for the Autobots to notice him. It took longer than it should have; only Velocity's pause as she watched him approach alerted the others to his presence.
Slipknot's arm disappeared from Velocity's back.
Optimus watched his mate. Her brow arches raised in a silent question, then she turned that question to Slipknot, then shifted her features to something more neutral before looking away, and all within less than a second. Across the bond, he sensed mild irritation and unfolding discomfort. Good.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Optimus stood over the sitting group, an obvious display of power and rank, but he had to remind the others where they belonged. Velocity seemed unaffected, ignoring him and returning to her datapad.
"I need to speak with my mate." His words and tone chosen to remind the others who they sat with, even if it would not help his cause with Velocity.
Green optics flashed and darkened. Optimus knew of the rumors around them, the whispers questioning their relationship. Were they truly bonded? Could he even bond after losing Elita? Why did he pick one so young and inexperienced? Was she his plaything? Optimus could see the questions behind the optics of the assembled group as they glanced at each other. He quashed the need to shout that he wanted a strong partner, not a sycophant agreeing with his every word, catering to his every mood and whim. He chose her because she was strong, independent, defiant, and intelligent; she offered skills he lacked, held knowledge that could help their race survive, she lightened his dreary days, and reminded him to live. He wanted to point out that none of them could accept the wildness or the fires of her true nature, and they would all shun her if they knew.
Instead of saying what filled his spark, the Prime reached down and offered the red femme his hand, hoping she would allow him to help her up. "Walk with me,"
She did not. Standing on her own, Velocity stared at him, hands on her hips. "Yes." The slow burn of rage heated her electrical field.
Optimus turned in the direction he wanted to go. Fortunately, the femme followed.
They walked through the base, he at a slow, relaxed pace, Velocity stiff with annoyance.
Finally, she snapped, "What is this about?"
Stopping, Optimus surveyed the area, more for potential collateral damage than privacy. Nearby a cluster of restaurants and civilian shops that once offered services to the base sat closed and dark. Property damage might be the worst that could occur.
"You will hand over leadership of your recon team to Slipknot and assist me in locating Prowl." Optimus steeled himself for the blowback.
Brow arches raised high in surprise as Velocity crossed her arms over her chest. "Did you just order me to quit my job?" The softly spoken words held a finely honed edge.
Optimus realized how he sounded. Kneeling to minimize their height differences, the Prime wanted to explain. He never expected the uppercut to his jaw. The blow hurt, but it did not carry the force of a larger mech. The Prime lurched backward to dodge Velocity's second swing and toppled over.
The irate femme pounced, slamming into his chest, her movements shockingly fast. Optimus barely blocked the claws slicing toward his face.
"Velocity, stop!" he roared. Fear trickled along his spinal assembly; he never fully considered the prospect of her losing all control.
Then as fast as her attack started, it ended, and her weight disappeared from his frame. Slowly, lowering the arm protecting his optics, he propped himself on his elbows. Optimus found Velocity wrapped in Chromia's arms, the red helm buried in the other's chest, arms wrapped around the blue frame. Confused discomfort twisted the older femme's features.
Optimus checked his arm. Velocity's claws barely cut through the dirt; she had not intended to inflict damage. A warning that he had pushed her too far.
Ironhide squatted in front of him. "What asinine bullshit did you do now?" Spoken in thick Cybertronian, not English. A clear sign they had witnesses and of what species.
"I was trying to explain that she must accompany me and…."
"You are a moron," Chromia snapped. "Primus, have you learned nothing?" Looking down, she grabbed Velocity by the chin, forcing his mate to look at her. "This glitch is going to attempt another explanation, and you are going to listen - without blowing your circuits." Then the blue femme physically turned Velocity around so she would face him, but still held onto his mate, hands anchored on Velocity's shoulders.
The red femme glared at him; righteous fury pulsed from her. Thank Primus Chromia kept a tight hold on Velocity, and Velocity did not fight the seasoned warrior.
Ironhide stood and moved behind him, and the Prime sat up. Wanting a more dignified position than laid out on the road. The scramble to his peds ended when a black hand clamped on his shoulder and pressed his aft into the ground.
"This time, try explaining yourself first." His Weapons Specialist forcefully suggested.
Gathering his thoughts, Prime started over. "I need you to accompany me as we search for Prowl."
Still restrained in Chromia's arms, Velocity scoffed, "What for? Do you have a reason, or are you just being a controlling ass?"
Ignoring the sting of her words, he continued. "I need your understanding of humans. We will be traveling into areas that may not be welcoming to us, and you can help negotiate or navigate our way around trouble. Slipknot is a capable leader, and you have taught him well." As he said the last sentence, Optimus realized a tinge of jealousy lingered in his spark, most likely clouding his judgment. "Also, some of the newly arrived mechs find you - interesting, and as you spend more time away from me, they question our relationship."
"So, what if they question our relationship? I'll tell them it's none of their fucking business if they ask me. You said the bonding was permanent; their questions won't change that."
A sigh rattled out of Optimus's vents. "You are my bondmate, but any mech or femme could use your friendship as a means of advancement. And the truly ambitious won't stop at friendship; they may attempt to seduce you and use that to influence me. Also, I need you beside me to offer a unified front for the Autobots. If my own bondmate won't stand with me, why should they?"
As the words rolled from his vocals, shame and disgust filled the Prime's spark. He hated that aspect of Cybertronian society, the smiling faces hiding corruption, the ideology that comradery equates to social advancement and intimacy to improved status. He hated that he had to be more of an icon for the masses and that Velocity had to play the image game with him. He tried to fight against it from the top, but generations had cemented the practices, and it would take generations to wear down the foundations of cronyism and idolatry of the Prime.
Silence, awkward and uncomfortable, hung over the group. Optimus ignored his friends and focused on Velocity, watching her consider his words. He hated having such a discussion in front of others, but if it had to be anyone, Ironhide and Chromia were his first and only choices.
"You don't have to be such a pompous dickhead," Velocity grumbled.
Chromia released his mate. "Our work here is done; let these idiots figure out the rest."
"I want to watch the humans' training drills; they focused on running and endurance at Alpha Base. I would like to see what they focus on here," Ironhide stated. His hand disappeared from Optimus's shoulder.
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