#I like the rules for everything other than mechs I guess

[kurakurakura99]

Man Lancer seems kinda lame so far. What, you need a "License" for your 3-D printed mech? LMAO you fucking loser. me and the girls are gonna huff ambigious fumes and weld a Stolen piece of artillery to my THUNDER KAMUI's arms, you fucking corp-suckling soyboy

[storyspinner91]

Chapter 4: The Chasm of the Night (and a Matter of Time)

Summary: The escape attempt from Tir Asleen culminates in a battle at the spaceport with a familiar figure.

[Another archival post as I take a break from editing - spoiler alert, ch. 15 is still way long but it's full of things I'm reluctant to cut so there's the update no one asked for I guess! :P]

Chapter 4 is the culmination of the escape-from-Tir-Asleen arc: Jade and crew arrive at an Asleeni spaceport and have to fight their way through GaleForce troops to find a shuttle and escape. And (spoilers abound ahead) of course Ballantine's there, too. His mech's been hacked and they have to fight him and...well, if you've seen episode 3 of Willow you know how that goes.

This is a chapter I like because I think I actually do a pretty good job of telling the story of the fight and keeping it relatively tight - most of the drama is about Jade's relationship with Ballantine and the tension of needing to get out before they're crushed. I like that I got to give Ballantine and Jade a slightly longer goodbye - thanks in part to the fact that Jade doesn't kill him, she disables his mech and he self-destructs to buy them time. It's a small but fairly substantial shift from the way ep. 3 goes...but I think it holds up. Another moment I really like is Jade coming to Kit's rescue. One thing that's fun about mechs is that people can be put in jeopardy without taking physical harm. There's something visceral about Kit "losing her arm" even though intellectually we know that she's fine in there. And for Jade, in the moment, it's even more visceral, of course.

We also get the equivalent of the Jade-Boorman conversation from ep. 4 in this chapter, and I have to confess that that moment is one of my absolute favorites from the series. I think it deepens both characters (though particularly Boorman) substantially, and it gives Jade a chance to be vulnerable when she spends so much time stepping up for others.

A side-note: at this point I was still gaming out battles with Lancer rules, and this was the one that really taught me the limits of that. Turns out strategy games don't map neatly to nice, dramatic narratives! For example, the flooding-the-engine thing Jade does here is actually a standard ability of the Everest frame in Lancer and, because it was a big, difficult final battle, in the playing of it several characters used it because they had to win! But that's no fun in terms of a story, so I turned it into a rule-breaking choice on Jade's part.

Second side-note: this chapter's song, "Constellations," is both a great song about committing to something and finding out it's more complicated than that and in my head the "theme song" for Like Constellations, A Million Years Away - hence also being the source for the title. The final stanza really sums up what's going on for Jade emotionally at this moment, I think:

Like constellations imploding in the night Everything is turning, everything is turning The shapes that you drew may change beneath a different light And everything you thought you knew Will fall apart, but you'll be all right

[maguro13-2]

Shattered Hero ~ Origins of the Ink Demon: Episode Maka Pt.7 (2/2)~ (Reuploaded)

[Huge Crisis Zone : Boss Area]

Shinra (Devil Chaos Chao) : Drats! No sign of this Eggman Negative fella and he must be here somewhere around the naval station. Where could this man possibly be?

[Boss (Neves) - Akihiro Honda]

Arthur (via radio) : Great! I'm beginning to pick up some radar signals. He has to be at the right spot, but I'm sure he might be hiding somewhere.

Shinra (Devil Chaos Chao) : Arthur, do you know where he is?

Arthur (via radio) : Yeah, I'm sure that it is your 20. We finally know where he is!

Shinra (Devil Chaos Chao) : Where is he? (behind him is the Egg Hammer Mega) It's right behing me, is there?

Arthur (via radio) : Correct! (Shinra turns and sees the mech)

Shinra (Devil Chaos Chao) : Oh, heck no! This is not my lucky day!

"HUGE CRISIS BOSS : EGG HAMMER FORTRESS"

Shinra (Devil Chaos Chao) : So this is where you have been hiding! You were doing something to the inhabitants of Sonic's world, weren't you?

Eggman Nega : Surprise to see me, aren't we? Lucky for you, the Ifrit will awaken to gain power and immortality!

Shinra (Devil Chaos Chao) : How are you gonna make the Ifrit Stronger?

Eggman Nega : Isn't obvious, according to the book, it states that the Ifrit can grow stronger by feeding him one precious meal to give him the power, a chao of course!

Shinra (Devil Chaos Chao) : Why you heartless scum! I knew you were doing this to the other Robotnik, you weren't going to rule the world to overthrow him, you were only craving on attempted murder and genocide! What kind of descendant from the future are you anyway!? You devil! (fires missiles at the Egg Hammer Fortress) Did it work?

Eggman Nega : Nice try, devil! But this Egg Hammer mech is built even stronger than the original in the forest!

Shinra (Devil Chaos Chao) : Damn! The missiles won't work on this guy! He's nuts! I don't know if my attacks with the walker will do any damage, but if I use the laser cannon, I'll sunk a battleship, just like how kids the Battleship toy game! It's like chess and checkers!

Eggman Nega : And now...It'll be checkmate for you once I crush you with this mech used by me! Lights out, devil!

Shinra (Devil Chaos Chao) : Oh man! I'm gonna get turn into a pancake!

*DBZ SFX : SWISH-SLASH!*

Eggman Nega : What!?

*DBZ SFX : EXPLOSION!*

Arthur : Sorry for the delay! But I'm afraid that killing a Chao population isn't yours to annhilate them.

Eggman Nega : Curse you!

Shinra (Devil Chaos Chao) : Arthur Boyle, dude! What took ya so long!?

Arthur : Sorry to break it to ya, Shinra. Because, Arthur Boyle is no more after I died in space where had to be resurrected into reincarnation since the Time Eater destroyed half of our universe which was a facade to the Shadow Realm. But this is the new Arthur Boyle, I am reincarnated into a girl! (shifts into Saber's voice) And this is the reason that the knight never dies! I live for real and remain as Arthur Boyle's reincarnation, Saber!

Shinra (Devil Chaos Chao) : Lemme guess...You've turned yourself into a girl, didn't you?

Arthur/Saber : Of course, which is why I've always wanted to become a girl one day. But hey, at least it's the 06.

Eggman Nega : Grr! You'll regret this! I will awaken the Ifrit and if it's the last thing I do!

Shinra (Devil Chaos Chao) : Eggman Nega! Wait!

Shinra (Devil Chaos Chao) : Blaze knew what were you doing on planning to take over the world, awakening a demon that will easily put the whole world in genocide, is that what you planned from the start at the future of Sonic's World?

[End the Game - Yutaka Minobe]

Eggman Nega : Of course, it will! I just needed to achieve my plans, but that blasted hedgehog foils everything I did! What does he have that I don't! I will mark the last laugh if it's what I do! (flies away)

[Law of the Shadow Army - Masamichi Amano]

Shinra (Devil Chaos Chao) : Damn! I Never thought that Silver would want to overthrow Eggman Nega's plan on overthrowing the Robotniks. If that hadn't been for the Black Arms Invasion, then all of humanity will be done for if it means to the hero that caused a powerful, explosive shockwave that wiped out four-fifths of the population in Japan. Following after, a second explosion occured was in Tokyo, it was Inca's future relative, Kimial.

Arthur/Saber : True that, humans thought that were gifted with the despair from Sephiroth, but it turns out it was all just a part of a corrupt game. Demon Vibe might be responsible for the destruction in an exchange for galactic conquest, but the thing that other villains might be humanity's problem or the humans that are heartless their selves, It's not a big deal that I was involved of some kind of conspiracy after the Time Eater figured it out that the universe we lived was a facade to Shadow Realm.

Shinra (Devil Chaos Chao) : How pitiful. After all of that Fire Soldier crap about 1000 years ago, I'd foiled Demon Vibe's plan by destroying it's creation, the evangelist, I realized that the eight pillars that were us were only used not just our souls, but our hearts that would be the keys to open the door to darkness. Why I did spread the "Influence" that I caused for what?

Arthur/Saber : ...Shinra.

"Meanwhile at Sailor Senshi Headquaters..."

[Mistery - Seirou Okamoto]

Luna : Good evening, Senshis. We are gathered here to inform you to this newest mission and this time our location will be very different this time.

Usagi : Okay, so Tokyo might be safer this time. What's next for us? I bet it's a vacation

Luna : We have just received from Intel that a man from 200 years in the future has been capturing Chao from the famous for an extinction event and we identified the kidnapper that would be the demon's feeding freezny chef. He is Eggman Negative, otherwise known as Eggman Nega, an escaped criminal and archnemesis to a hedgehog and the princess of the Sol Dimension within Sonic's universe.

Usagi : Hey, that's the man in the picture during the Black Arms Invasion aftermath. He appeared a year before we were awakened about 15 years ago. By any means necessarily to him for capturing cute and cuddlesome creatures, does he have any involvements with Dark Nebula or a demon? I don't think that he wasble able to open his prison and instead awaken a demon that will destroy all life on earth. So tell me who took the Prison of Dark Nebula after a gang of inter-galactic gangs tried to steal a chest that was actually a piece of cake which was stole from that pink puff?

(the computerize orb shows a mugshot of Mizune)

Usagi : Mizune the Mice Witch. A master of treasure hunting and adoptive daughter of Mouser, the member of the 8-bits organization led by Eruka's long lost relative Mamu, AKA the Great Wart himself. So she's responsible for taking Dark Nebula's prison. Sneaky rat.

Ami : Of according to the info, local Nintendo veteran and founder of Smash Masahiro Sakurai claims that his own creation was frustrated and went on a rampage after King Dedede's castle had a break in by a gang of inter-galatic thieves that tries to take the prison of Dark Nebula from him, in which Meta Knight prevented Kirby from ever opening it. the Squeaks figuring out that the King has created copies of Dark Nebula's prison that are all shapes and sizes. Poor Kirby still wanting a taste of his snack and, who knew that stealing a cake from him would go on a bodacious rampage over a cake theft? I guess somebody else must've ate it. But I believe he might gets a taste of his cake another day.

Setsuna Meioh : And with it, all copies of Dark Nebula's prison are located in each of the location and the real that Mizune has it!

Usagi : So, where could Dark Nebula's prison would might end up at?

Luna : Let me show you where Dark Nebula's Prison end up might be.

(holographic images are shown from the computerize orb)

Rei : Get a load of this. Isn't that Meta Knight's ship?

Makoto : That's the halberd ain't it? How did it ended up in underwater like that?

Hotaru : Apparently, this ship that Meta Knight flew, has crash landed in the Secret Sea area 10 years ago after Meta Knight's false revenge plot was foiled by Kirby during that incident caused by the trickster Marx, who tried to conquer Kirby's homeworld in his plan of conquering Gamble Galaxy. But eventually, his plan failed and he was defeated along with the death of Galactic Nova. and it has been rebuilt and repaired by one designer that became a newest member to Meta Knight's group. One of the rebuilders that repaired the Halberd was Sir Halberd Knight, a new member that was added to Meta Knight's group.

Makoto : Who is the survivor?

Hotaru : It's this person named Tsugumi Harugori, a first-year student and former junior of a local high school that became the role of a massacre three years ago. Her classmates and teachers were slaughtered by Sephiroth and two unwanted perpetrators, Dark Meta Knight and a heartless named Shadow Star. Except for her two friends who were killed by Inky Albarn, the queen who framed the real Maka Albarn three years ago that started the same mess to the American Public and the attacks in Tokyo.

Usagi : So in order to access the Secret Sea to get to Meta Knight's Base, there five objects called the Star Seals that are inside within each of the copies of Dark Nebula's prison. And there are five of them located in each of the locations. This one's yellow, blue, green, red, and indigo. Hey, guys. you thinking what I'm thinking?

[A New Journey - Tomoya Ohtani & Takahito Eguchi]

Rei : Does that mean we're going to save the world, the Real World?

Luna : Indeed! This is an very important task for you all to protect our galaxy from the forces of true evil. the battle between Good and Evil are still a conflict in every story that everyone witnessed. After all, you are earth's only heroes!

Makoto : Yeah! You can count on us! We are the Sailor Scouts we put evil to justice on their knees! That'll show him who's boss!

Hotaru : I will be in honor to protect the earth at all costs.

Minako : This is will mark us forever superhero team, one happy family that is us, heroes together! We can save earth and without the DWMA's help!

(girls cheering)

Usagi : Stopping crime and the forces of evil. That's what superheroes can do for their selves. Maybe we would like to see to show the world what heroes can do. This global task force of Sailor Senshi will be our goal of defending earth from harm. Let's see for what our hearts can do for us.

"Our real adventure around the world begins now."

~ Act 7 : Let the World Adventure begins! ~

[starsheild]

Inspiration- 1 Gallery

The halls were quiet, the soft hum of the intermittent lights and the sound of Barricades own pedesteps the only sounds. While the joors were not ideal, these night security rounds at the gallery were an improvement over working the irregular events at the sports arena where he had been assigned before. No over charged patrons, no spoiled younglings throwing snacks, no fights to break up or rioting to try and contain… Just him, his tools, and silent, inanimate charges.

While he would never admit it, Barricade actually appreciated the works of art surrounding him. His optics roamed the walls, drifting over the painting gracing them at carefully calculated intervals. They lingered for a moment on a rendition of the centerpiece of the Crystal Garderns of Praxus. The artist had used ground up crystal in the pigments, bringing the image to life in a way that made the observer feel as though they were looking at the living formations first hand.

Barricade pulled his optics away and forced his pedes to continue on his round. That was not his life anymore. Praxus was closed to him.

He paused at the main entrance, checking the that the doors were locked before circling around the focal point of the vaulted room. The energon fountain was contained and shaped by micro energy fields, allowing it to contract and expand in an every shifting array of patterns that sometimes extended to four times Barricades own height.

Sculptural works dominated the next wing, and these he moved through at a steadier pace. These works did not have a much draw, and his optics slid over them more quickly, merely seeking anything out of the ordinary instead of actually lingering and absorbing. As he turned the corner his steps stuttered and he found himself resetting his optics.

Seated on a bench in front of one of the sculptures was a mech, still enough to be a work himself save that his visor glowed in the dim light and the fact that Barricade knew nothing had been there when he had been making his first round earlier in the dark cycle.

Barricade cleared his vocalizer, setting his tone to firm but not quite threatening as he approached the stranger. “I do not know how you got in, but the gallery is closed. I am going to have to ask you to leave, and return in the light cycle if you wish to view the works here.”

He wasn’t sure that the strange mech heard him, remaining still and silent until Barricade was almost upon him before speaking.

“This’n was my first.”

“If you will not leave I will be forced to con- first?”

The mech waved his servo at the sculpture on the pedestal before him. “First piece ta be displayed ‘n a real gallery. M’ big break, if ya like.”

He turned his helm to look at Barricade, and he security mech felt his jaw drop as recognition set in.

The mech he had assumed to either be a potential thief or vandal by now was none other than the artist Ricochet himself. In an attempt to assure himself that he wasn’t suffering from a minor processor short Barricade looked over at the description hanging beside the sculpture in question. Polyhexian frame, gold visor, flame patterns along the frame- everything matched. And while artists defacing or destroying their works was not unheard of, Barricade wasn’t getting the vibe that was the intention here. He also didn’t think it was possible to steal something that was yours, so that ruled out being a thief as well.

And artist or not, he still had a job to do as well.

“Not sure why you’re here, but this place is still closed for the cycle.”

“Guess I just wanted ta be able ta look by m’self. Can’t come durin’ normal times. Not ‘n have any peace.” Ricochet stood and walked over the piece, reaching out to run run his fingers over the polished surface.

While Barricade knew he should intervene, should stop the other mech whatever his intent, he found himself rooted to the spot as his optics followed the motion of the mechs digit-tips. Light fingers ran over the main figure of the piece, a creator, then traced the helms of the abstract creations clinging to it.

Apparently finished, Ricochet turned and motion towards the exit. “Ya gonna show me out?”

Barricade felt as though he was coming out of a trance, and the sensation irritated him enough that his next glyphs came out more as a growl. “Yes. And if I catch you in here again after closing, I will call the Enforcers to report a trespassing, artist or not.”

“More ‘n fair.” Ricochet agreed as the Praxain security guard guided him out. “They might wanna tight’n up security round the loading dock. Jus’ sayin’.”

Barricade bit back a growl, wondering how he was going to go about reporting this in the morning. His frustration was interrupted by a stray thought as he watched the other mech descend the broad stairs that graced the front of the gallery.

“What were you looking for?”

The Polyhexian paused on the stairs and turned, his gaze sweeping over the gallery front before coming to rest on Barricade.

“Inspiration.”

[pastelpaperplanes]

Besides Yoketron, did Lockdown have any mentor figures in his life? What was his early life like? Does he see alot of himself in Cozen or mostly Prowl?

Lockdown was the first student Yoketron took under his personal care at the dojo. Yoketron was always a mentor figure to Lockdown and nothing more, the two butted heads quite a lot and Lockdown never really learned the whole ‘respect your Master’ bit of his training

Yoketron didn’t blame Lockdown for his abrasive and rude behavior though. He was an orphaned ‘halfbreed’ and was sent to be under the care of the Dojo as the Elite Guard’s last ditch effort to set him on a straight and narrow path. While Lockdown never spoke about how others (including his superiors) treated him for simply just being him, Yoketron can take a pretty good guess from the way he flinched whenever someone raised their hands too quickly, or the nasty, mangled protoform scarring, and what it looked like to be a thrice broken, improperly healed right hand he’d been hiding.

Essentially High Command wanted the Dojo to whip him into shape as a good and obiedient soldier with their ‘freaky voodoo ninja magic’ it was either you fix him, or he goes. Whatever that meant. Lockdown wasnt a pure blooded Bot, so it’s not like he’d pose for anything good in their perfect Autobot society if he couldn’t follow even the simplest of commands.

(YALL. this is horrible and heartbreaking and I know it. I do not portray Autobot society, ESPECIALLY right after the Great War, to be kind or accepting towards mecha who did not come straight off of their Forge assembly line as perfect soldiers)

Lockdown was part of the last group mecha born under the rare but still present generation of sparklings. All Decepticons were banished from the major cities and into deep space, while Decepticon fraternizers or sympathizers either went missing, or simply got lucky if they managed to escape the Roundups.

Lockdown doesn’t remember his Creators at all and doesn’t know if he was traded, abandoned, or seized. All he’s ever know is that he is alone, and as far as the Elite Guard is concerned, he will either be a cog in their machine or he will be nothing but fuel for The Forge.

Yoketron volunteered for the job of watching over this battered but still very much a helluva spitfire angsty teen. Lockdown refused to meditate because it was just a ‘glorified time out’ and it was ‘stupid’. Lockdown was a night owl while Yoketron was an early riser, they had a lot of arguments about what proper training times should be.

Yoketron of course did get to see small moments of clarity and joy on Lockdown’s face in all their years or training, like when Lockdown managed to sweep his pedes from under him, or the first time he was able to sneak up on his Master. Smiles on Lockdown’s face left as quick as they came.

Lockdown would never admit out loud that he truly felt safe when he was with Yoketron, he would probably try to hug him again and Lockdown was NOT about to let his Master get soft with him

As time went on, his training progressed and he just about grasped everything Yoketron had to offer. All except for processor over matter, which left Lockdown spitting curses every time Yoketron had him attempt to open the Dojo’s Protoform Chambers. He could never quite get that final part of his training and it tore him to pieces.

In an attempt to ease Lockdown’s frustration, Yoketron sent him on his own optics quest. That would be the last time Yoketron saw his pupil before the the infamous Dojo Raid.

Unfortunately Lockdown got caught up with the wrong bots while on his quest. Decepticons were far more accepting than he could’ve hoped for, they offered shelter, free space travel, energon, and comraderie in exchange for his help in some ‘harmless’ mercenary work. Taking out bots along the way we’re just little prices that had paid in order to make a statement back at the Elite Guard High Command.

During this time Lockdown met a young, but extremely talented Decepticon mercenary named Deadlock, who recommended he try and secure a place at the table of factionless and most notorious bounty hunters in the galaxy,,,a small gang of sorts, one of which he wanted to truly be including in their ring he’d have to lead a hunt worth some BIG CREDITS to keep his place.

Lockdown knew of only one chamber that could hold something so priceless,,,,so priceless that it could put him in the top dog spot if he led this hunt.

The night of his costly, but successful Raid, Lockdown decided two things: he never again wanted to see the look on a mecha’s face as he pulled the trigger, and he will from now on always work alone.

It turns out that mercenaries have only their eyes on the prize, friends and family who stand in the way are only easy, pleading targets. No amount of begging or bribery could convince the crew to let his Master go, it was either you do the job now, or we’ll have some fun and string it out a bit. The Golden Rule of Hunting: No loose ends.

When it was all over land said and done, Lockdown’s crew dragged their broken leader back onboard with all of the Chamber Protoforms secure. No one thought it would be any good to let him know that in fact his Master’s suffering spark was still flickering within the rubble of the Dojo. Not until one of them while during their drunken celebration let that little piece of information slip.

With his mind made up, Lockdown disposed of his inebriated crew out the airlock, and had them pray some ship out somewhere out in deep space picked them up before their fuel tanks ran dry.

Not knowing who or where to turn to with his expensive cargo in bay, Lockdown ditched his buyer and sold them off to the Decepticons in hopes that if he could get in anyone’s good graces, it would be the next most powerful organization in the galaxy.

With his riches under belt, Lockdown bought himself a nice secluded ship, nearly drank himself to death multiple times, then later got caught up in his obsessive addiction to mods in hopes to tear up the pieces of himself that reminded him of his worst crime.

As the years passed and his jobs became more damanding, Lockdown easily took the throne as the most ruthless and efficient bounty hunter to have ever lived. He may claim to have found his calling, but Lockdown knows that now matter how many fancy new mods he buys, he’ll never be able to replace the mech he called Master.

As for who he sees more in Cozen, it’s Prowl, and he couldn’t be more proud. Cozen may have his attitude, but deep down he knows his kid has a kind spark and is selfless above all.

[mercurysowntwenty-two]

tell me more about lancer!! (I’ve heard of it but never played)

“It is 5016u, and the galaxy is home to trillions. At the core of humanity’s territory there is a golden age, but outside of this newly won utopia the revolutionary project continues... Your character in the world of Lancer is a mechanized cavalry pilot of particular note – a lancer. Whatever the mission, whatever the terrain, whatever the enemy, your character is the one who is called in to break the siege or hold the line. When the drop klaxons sound, it’s up to them to save the day. “ - Introduction, Lancer core rules (pp 10-11)

Lancer is a very good role-playing game about piloting giant robots and using them to make Utopia happen. I’m going to organize this into mechanical things that are Very Good about Lancer and lore things that are Very Good. Here are 12 things I like Very Much about Lancer. 

MECHANICAL

1. COMPCON

2. In addition to a primary system of regular old weapons n attacks n hitpoints, there is an entire other system of technological attacks and “heat” hitpoints to represent hacking enemy robots to increasingly bizarre effect. Making regular physical attacks is tied to physical weapon “mounts” on your mech, and these mounts may be destroyed over the course of a fight, so the technology attack system gives players who might otherwise be neutralized something to do the whole time. 

3. So much player choice: There are 29 mechs in the core rulebook, another 5 in the first rules supplement, another 3 freely available on the publisher itch.io, then various others in the nooks and crannies of the Lancer discord. Do not be daunted, however!  i. In a source like COMPCON above, all the mechs are organized by manufacturer and role. Each in-universe manufacturer matches one of the 4 fundamental mech stats so if you know you’re aiming for a mech that especially interacts with a particular part of the mechanics you’ve already selected out 75% of the choices.  a. The matches go like this: Harrison Armory matches to the “Engineering” stat and so their mechs deal with the Heat mechanics in interesting ways, HORUS matches to the “Systems” stat and so they specialize in hacking other mechs and other technological attacks, Interplanetary Shipping-Northstar matches to “Hull” and so builds tanks and tough guys, and Smith-Shimano matches to “Agility” and so builds the sexy ones the ones that have interesting ways of avoiding getting hit. b. Roles are relatively straightforward too! Striker mechs are the close-quarters fighters, artillery are... artillery- long range fighters, controllers do big Areas of Effect or impose conditions or alter character movement, defenders have big shields or are mobile bunkers or are just so darn big they protect those behind them, and support is... support- they share bonuses like repairs with their allies.  ii. Take this all together and finding the mech that best suits you is actually real easy despite the long long lists. And if you ever get locked into a build you grow to dislike? At every level up, you can completely replace and overhaul the mech licenses (which represent your ability to use the relevant equipment and frame associated with a given robot) you have so you can try other robots. 

4. The NPC system: There are 33 NPC statblocks, organized by the kind of role they have in a potential fight. In addition, there are 12 templates you could potentially apply to an NPC. Both statblocks and templates are defined by “systems”- just little traits and qualities and there are often many optional systems you can slap on for an extra level of customization. Therefore, you can tailor hundreds if not thousands of NPCs out of a seemingly-limited stock.  i. The template system means any potential moveset or archetype can be made into a miniboss or boss ii. The template system means you can flavorfully telegraph how an encounter can go- telling the players they are fighting a group of pirates prepares them for coreworm rockets and grapple leashes (hallmarks of the pirate template) regardless of the actual statblock in use. iii. Each statblock is effectively 3 statblocks in one, set to different tiers to match and scale to the level of the players throughout the game (so oops I guess there are 99 NPCs by default) iv. Monstrosity- it’s for Kaiju! it’s also one of the most modular statblocks for all the little tweaks you need for Big Monster v. Squad- for footsoldiers! 

5. There is no class system (mechanically speaking, in the lore Union is working on it). Character creation functions through selecting Skill Triggers for situations outside your mech and Talents for situations inside your mech, and mech licenses themselves. Even Backgrounds are mostly just lists of questions in order to prompt character introspection. 

6. I put this last down here because it’s kind of at the intersection of the mechanics and the lore, but Lancer has some good random tables for generating things like planets, space stations, people on space stations, Pirate crews, and big Enterprise companies. It’s just good clean fun. 

LORE

I also created this google doc for totally unrelated reasons

1. The naming convention of the rings of Union and the Blinkgates- Blinkgates are Lancer’s mechanism of faster-than-light travel. They are Big installations and passing through one can take you to any other instantly. They’re organized into “rings” of the stations that are physically closest to one another, emanating out from Earth. Each ring is named after a mountain range on Earth (now called Cradle because of course) and each gate is named after a peak in that range. This is a real small detail in the grand scheme of things but I adore it because this naming convention is a clear reflection of the priorities and values of the people who did the naming. Every gate by definition is situated in places that humans have already settled, but they’re not named according to local convention. Just so, every gate is situated somewhere in Cradle’s night sky, but they’re not named for things like constellations. Each blinkgate is named after a feature on Cradle because the blinkgates were named by the Second Committee of Union, who had a driving philosophy of Anthrochauvinism (a manifest destiny attitude towards humanity on the galactic stage, with a heavy bias towards humanity as it is on Cradle) and so of course blinkgates are named as a projection of life on Earth onto space without regard for the actual space they occupy. 

2. On a related note, according to the starship-battle spinoff Battlegroup, Union names its largest starships- its battleships- after environmentalists. That just warmed my little Environmental Scientist heart, and also is a clear reflection of the Third Committee’s values and priorities (Union rose from the ashes of an environmental disaster on Earth, and the Union Navy under the Third Committee has a general mandate of acting protectively and defensively, so Union has effectively named one set of their people’s protectors after another set of protectors). 

3. The fact that every faction is simultaneously in a state of escalating tension. "The Good War" is this inevitable conflict that everyone constantly expects, but it is constantly not here, which just increases the tension further. This makes for good adventure fodder.  i. KTB and HA are about to have the Second Interest War in the Dawnline Shore,  ii. Union and the Aun are about to have the Second Distal War in Boundary Garden, and SSC is gonna wade into it because geneticists gotta get their samples I guess,  iii. IPS-N is about to fall apart from infighting,  iv. In the Long Rim HORUS is closing in on Horizon, finding the Fourth Metavault is around the corner

4. Utopia is a verb. Corollary: Union are the enemy you want. Or: Life is good, but it can be better. All this to say, Union is presented as an unambiguous force for good, but the game and the creators make no bones about how Union can be made better (and thus directly put improving the world in the players’ court!). 

5. Many Factions are defined by a fundamental expectation-subverting "What If?"  i. Union- what if the big bad hegemony that rules over everything was (at least trying to be) the good guys?  ii. The Aun- what if the mysterious and mystical theocracy explicitly and literally had the support of a god and thus could back up their claims of manifest destiny?  iii. The Corpros- what if all of these awful organizations actually did materially improve people’s lives, instead of that just being a propaganda line they throw out to justify themselves?

6. NHPs- Explaining what’s up with NHPs in full would be a whole Thing, so for now I’ll just share my favorite thing about them: they’re like droids in Star Wars, except the creators actually acknowledge the immorality of the situation and thus generate and encourage discussion about it in the playerbase, rather than just let it be taken for granted (and thus directly put improving the world in the players’ court!). 

[dreamer213]

Broken Machines: Lights The Dark

Chapter 10 Saturday School Kids Can Be Cruel.

Friday night had been pretty fun when Penny finally got home. She had called Pietro earlier in the day to tell him not to make her too much for dinner because she had a big lunch. She managed to keep the petit fours a secret until she got home. When she did get home, she plopped the box down on the table while he had his back turned and shouted “SURPRISE” as he turned around. He was so surprised he almost dropped their dinner, but Penny took the tray off his hands before anything got ruined. That night they had baked potatoes with tiny cakes and tea for dessert. The following morning Penny woke up to a pre-made plate of bacon and eggs, some money, and a note.

“ Morning Penny, They had to call me in for some emergency maintenance on the mech’s cannon again. There’s gonna be a lot to be done so I won’t be back till tomorrow. Be safe while I’m gone; remember to eat and stay charged.”

“Love you Sunshine, Dad.”

Penny: He won’t be home till tomorrow. I’m going to be alone here until tomorrow.

Penny frowns unconsciously; she had rarely been away from her dad since she was stationed. His presence had been her only constant comfort since the tournament; she hadn’t gone a day without him and she had never thought about what would happen if she had to. It’s honestly quite scary to be alone with nothing be her thoughts. Whenever she was, everything felt so small, so quiet, so….. suffocating like a black void pooling around her.

Penny: No one will be here when I get back or when I go to sleep tonight. When it’s dark, it’ll just be, be-

Penny shakes her head, pushing out the worrying thoughts before they get worse.

Penny: Stop. You are fine, you are strong, you are not hopeless, and one night on your own will not hurt you. Just eat your breakfast and go to work.

Penny sits down at the table and quietly eats her now cold breakfast. Once she’s done, she washes her dishes, turns off all the lights, and heads off to her morning patrol. The patrol went well, no robberies or emergencies today, for some reason this didn't make Penny happy, even though it meant she would have less paperwork at the end of the day. Before long, it’s time to help at the training facility. Saturdays and Sundays were always the easiest days of the week at the facility as most academy students rested or went home on weekends, and most hunters took it easy on the weekends too, so besides makeup sessions and a few fitness hobbyists, no one came in. Which meant Penny was never requested on these days. Or so she thought. When she arrived, Penny is told that a team has requested her assistant for their session and was waiting for her in her usual room. This surprised her but Penny did as she was told and headed towards the training room. As she walked, she wondered who could have possibly asked for her on a Saturday afternoon. Could it be Winter? No, she liked to train by herself. Academy students? No, any student who came in on the weekend was to be monitored by a teacher. Could it..Ciel?...No there was no possible way she had asked for her. Penny kept pondering, but no matter how hard she thought, she couldn’t guess who could be waiting for her in that room. She’d just had to go in and see for herself. Once she finally reached the training room, the moment she enters the room, something tackles her! Penny wrests her attacker onto the floor and pins their hands behind their back. She’s about to question them when she feels something touch her back. She grabs it, gripping it tightly in her hands. She looks at it and sees it’s a long fluffy orange tail.

Penny: An orange cat tail? Neon Katt?

Penny looks down and realizes she’s holding down Neon!

Neon: Yeah, it’s me. And if not too much to ask, could you let go of my tail and GET OFF ME!

Penny: Right away. I’m so sorry!

Penny lets her go, and they both get off the floor. Before Penny can ask why Neon tackled her, Neon starts rolling towards the rest of her team. Penny tries to keep up and ask her what’s going on, but Neon wouldn't even look at her. When they finally reach the rest of the team, FNKI Neon hides behind Flynt. Penny gives up on Neon and decides to just wait to ask one of the others.

Penny: Good afternoon Team FNKI.

Flynt: Hey Penny, nice to see you.

Ivori: Afternoon to you too, Ms. Penny.

Kobalt: Sup Penny, hope you got affairs in order cause you’re about to see hell. (chuckles)

Ivori: Koco!

Ivori pops Kobalt in his side with the handle of his whip. Kobalt rubs his side in pain and annoyed.

Kobalt: Ow, the hell Ivy!

Ivori: Could you please not act like a jackass for one minute.

Kobalt: How was I being a jackass? We know what’s about to go down, I was just giving her a heads up!

Ivori: Still, would it kill you to show some tact for once. I mean Is it really so hard for you to-

Penny: Excuse me.

Both young men stop and return their attention to Penny.

Penny: What exactly is going on? I have no idea what is happening and what exactly I’ve done to get this kind of reaction. Could one of you please explain?

Flynt: Yeah, sorry about that. You see what happened was-

Suddenly, Neon pushes Flynt out of the way and gets in Penny’s face. She gets less than an inch away from Penny’s face, looking really upset.

Neon: You didn’t call.

Penny: Excuse me?

Neon continues to stare her down, arms crossed with a big frown on her face.

Neon: You didn’t call me! I gave you my number, asked you to call me, waited two weeks for you to call, but you never did. So rude!

Penny: I am sorry Neon, I have been very busy for the last few weeks and hadn’t thought about our conversation since then.

Neon: Wow, talk about thoughtless. Or am I just that forgettable to you?

Penny: No, I just had over things I needed to give my full attention to at the time. That and I didn’t have anything to talk about.

Neon: Uh, That’s so not true! What about that “secret mission” Ironwood has you working on?

Penny: I’m not supposed to talk about that.

Neon: Yeah, with civilians! You’re supposed to gossip about your crazy missions and stupid paperwork with coworkers, stupid. Sharing wild stories is like the best thing about being a soldier! And besides, this isn’t just an everyday mission; it's one the General himself had to come to your house and get you out of bed for. How could you not wanna talk about that?

Penny: How did you know about that?

Neon: Same way I shoulda heard from you. Now talk! I wanna hear everything!

Penny stares blankly at Neon as she piece together what she just heard. She looked over at the rest of Team FNKI; the three young men were standing awkwardly, embarrassed but unsurprised by Neon’s actions. Finally understanding what’s going on, Penny turns her attention back to Neon.

Penny: So if I’m hearing this correctly, you request this room and my presence with sole purpose of having a recreational conversation?

Neon: Yeah!

Penny: And you do realize that in doing so, you are misappropriating both military equipment and personnel?

With that, Neon’s pout drops, and so does her tail, Flynt facepalms and hangs his head, Ivori does everything he can to avoid making eye contact, and Kobalt’s looking around and whistling, trying his best to play it cool. Penny crosses her arms, unimpressed by their silly plan.

Penny: Team FNKI, please leave this area immediately so that others may use it properly.

Neon: What! Oh come on, no one even comes here on Saturday!

Penny: That is incorrect and irrelevant; this room is for training purposes only, not socializing. If you aren’t going to train then you have to leave. Those are the rules we must follow as soldiers.

Neon: OMG, Are you really doing this right now? Ugh why do you have to be such a narc-

Neon is quickly interrupted by Flynt getting in between the warring redheads.

Flynt: Okay, I’m sensing way too much hostility here, so why don’t we all just take as sec to calm down and come up with some kind of solution.

Neon about to start arguing again but Flynt turns to her and puts a hand on her cheek; he caresses her cheek with his thumb and lightly scratches her jawline with his other fingers. Soon Neon lets out a low purr as she full calms down from her hissy fit.

Flynt: Kitty, I know you just wanna talk, but we gotta follow the rule. So, how about this, you like skating, right?

A now calm Neon simply nods her head as she continues to receive scratches.

Flynt: Then how about you do a little speed test, you race around the room a few times while Penny tracks your speed and you two talk as you go. Me and the boys can stay here and do some stretches while you ladies race and chat. Sound good to you?

Neon: Yeah…Sounds…good.

Flynt: Good.

Still scratching away, Flynt turns his head to Penny.

Flynt: Sound okay to you, Penny?

Penny: Since the activities are forms of training, yes that would be acceptable.

Flynt: Great, thank ya Penny.

Flynt takes his hand off Neon’s cheek onto her shoulder and rolls her towards Penny as he returns to his spot next to Ivori and Kobalt. Penny and Neon walk to the edge of the room near the entrance; once there, the two stand close to the wall, and Neon takes a starting stance. Penny clicks her heels together and starts her rocket boots; they’re on a lower setting to match Neon’s gliding and sets an internal stopwatch. Penny gives a quick glance to the boys, and they were indeed doing stretches as promised, then looks back to Neon. They make eye contact, Noen mouths, “Ready?” and Penny holds up a hand and starts counting down. 5….4……3….2….1.

Both girls dash off at tremendous speeds. They remain neck and neck as they go around the room and soon Neon starts talking again.

Neon: So what’s going on with this secret mission?

Penny: I’m investigating a crime, and I need to go undercover to find the perpetrator.

Neon: Cool, so are they just dropping you in or what?

Penny: No, because of the lifestyle and living situation of the people on the suspect list, I have to receive some training on how to behave and act without seeming suspicious.

Neon: Oh, is it like stealth training?

Penny: Yes and no, I’m taking etiquette lessons so that I may infiltrate Atlas high society.

Neon: Woah, really? Damn that’s like straight out of a spy movie! So who they got teaching you to act all distinguished and junk? I don’t know we had an expert on that stuff just lying around here.

Penny: We don’t, an elite is instructing me as a form of repayment for saving his life at a party.

Neon: Uh ew, you’re getting lessons from some old fart elite. Gross.

Penny: No, he’s actually a teenage boy. And he’s not gross; he’s very clean and friendly.

Neon: A teenager! They seriously gotta another kid teaching you? Way to pay off a life debt.

Penny: It’s actually very nice; Our ages being so close makes our dynamic fairly even, he’s intelligent, easy to talk to, and very kind, and the way he teaches is unique and very fun.

Neon: Ooooh cool. Is he cute?

Penny: He’s…more beautiful than cute.

Neon: Oh yeah? How exactly?

Penny: Well, he’s has a model’s figure, lean, long legs, high shoulders, and excellent posture. You could take a picture of him at any angle, and he’d always look amazing. His face is also gorgeous, pink lips that look nice even in a smirk, high cheekbones, a cute little nose, and his eyes! I’ve never seen a pair so blue and shiny before; they look like a deep sea with the brilliance of a gemstone. And his hair is so soft and neat that it looks like silk and is white as fresh snow.

Penny begins to sway from left to right, hands behind her back and a sweet smile on her face. She’s slowing down and moving further and further away from the wall as they go. Neon slows to match her speed.

Neon: Wow, so he’s grade A in the looks department. What about his personality?

Penny: As I previously stated, he’s very intelligent. He’s also creative and well-spoken I could talk with him for hours if I had the time to. He’s a bit abrasive, not cruel by any means just very direct and confident, and charming and witty (giggle), which is a little funny because his first name starts with Whit. (giggles)

Neon: (giggles) Sounds like you really really like this guy.

Penny: I do. Being around him is just so….wonderful. Sometimes when I’m with him, it feels like it’s just the two of us; I have his full attention, and he has mine. It’s very..cozy and a bit

A slight blush glows on Penny’s cheeks. She turns around and starts flying backwards.

Penny: exhilarating. So much so that sometimes I feel a little dizzy and get this thumping feeling in my chest when he looks at me for too long or says something really nice to me. It’s really-

Penny is intercepted by her accidentally backing into the wall of one of the obstacles. Luckily for her, her aura was active, and she had slowed down so much that the impact was damaging in the slightest. Still hurt a bit though.

Neon: Ooooooh shit.

Neon rushes over to Penny, having been in earshot of the collision come running to see if everything’s okay.

Flynt: I heard a bang. Who got hurt?

Kobalt: 5000 lien says Neon got bored and pushed her off a platform.

Ivori: Koco I swear to every God if you don’t stop I hit you right in the-

Neon: Will you two mouthy douche cakes shut up and actually help!

The two stop their bickering and go to Penny. They try to help her up, but Penny puts her hands up as they try, and they back up to give her some space. Penny turns off her boots, takes a second to regain her balance, and steadies herself fully on the floor. The team begin conversing about what’s just happened.

Ivori: Are you okay, dear? Do you need us to get someone?

Penny: No, thank you, I’m fine. My aura was activated, and it was a slow speed collision, so there was no damage aside from the initial shock of the impact.

Flynt: But why’d you crash?

Penny: I-

Neon: Oh, it was nothing really. Penny just go all wispy talking about this dreamy boy she met.

Penny: W-what? What are you-

Kobalt: Oooh, so that what you two were talking about. A boy.

Neon: Yup, she was so caught up in her gushing that she slammed herself into that wall. (laughs) Can’t say I blame her though, all cute girls go a little brain dead when they think about their crush. I know I did.

Kobalt: And since when did you count as a cute girl?

Neon playful elbows Kobalt in the side, and Kobalt returns the favor while Penny looks on, confused by their words.

Penny: Excuse me, but do you mean by a crush?

Neon: Oh, you know.

Penny: No, I do not know.

Neon: You know it’s when you really like someone.

Penny tilts her head to the side, confused.

Penny: But I like a lot of people.

Neon: Yeah, but a crush is when you really like someone. Like you like like them.

Penny: Like like?

Kobalt: You know, they make you feel all floaty, makes your head all foggy, and gives you butterflies in your tummy.

Penny: How would someone get insects in my stomach?

Neon and Kobalt sigh in unison, frustrated with her lack of knowledge. Meanwhile, Ivori walks up to Penny, dusts off her sleeves, and takes both her hands in his, taking over the situation.

Ivori: Sorry about those two. They have don’t know how to take anything seriously. Now the gist of what they were trying to say is that a crush is when you have some romantic feelings for someone.

Penny: Romantic..feelings?

Ivori: Yes, when you’re with this person, it’s very special. They’re beautiful to you; they make you feel warm and safe and happy. You want to hold them, laugh with them, kiss them, and just be romantic with them.

Penny: But I’ve never wanted to ki-

For a second, the unconscious thought of kissing Whitley plays through Penny’s mind. Suddenly the thumping in her chest returned, and her face started to redden. Penny tries to make the thought go away, but Ivori’s words keep replaying in her head, and memories of Whitley pour in with it. Her face gets redder and redder until she’s at the max amount of flushed her body can be. She tries to speak her mind still jumbled.

Penny: I-I d-don’t have r-romantic fe-feelings for hi-(hiccup)

Penny quickly rips her hands from Ivori and covers her mouth, astonished that she had somehow just said a lie.

Kobalt: The hell was that!

Penny: N-nothing (hiccup)

Neon: Wait a sec, I’ve heard about this. She hiccups when she lies. You lied, you’re totally crushing on this guy, aren’t you?

Penny: No I’m not-(hiccup)

Kobalt: Holy shit, that’s fucking adorable! Do it again! Do it again!

Neon: Penny’s got a crush, Penny’s got a crush.~

Neon chants in a sing-song voice, Kobalt chuckling at her side.

Penny: No, I don't-(hiccup) Stop it!

Neon continues to chant and Kobalt joins in, Penny just covers her face, silently praying for the ground to swallow her up and away from this as they continue heckling her. After a while Ivori decides that enough was enough and gets in the two jokesters faces.

Ivori: Both of you stop that right now! Can’t you see that hurting the poor girl’s feelings!

Neon: Ugh, Lighten up we’re were just kidding around.

Kobalt: Yeah, you’re supposed to tease people when they get a crush. We did the same thing to you.

Ivori: That was different, you don’t make fun of a little girl. Especially one like Penny.

Neon: Oh, come on, if she’s gonna be a soldier, she has to be able to handle some hazing.

Ivori: But you still shouldn’t be prying into her personal life like this.

Flynt: All three of you shouldn’t have been prying at all.

Flynt final chimes in, having stayed silent for far too long.

Flynt: Koco, Kitty cut it out right now; it's not funny. Ivy, you should’ve stayed out of it; you played right into their game and lost. Take your L and walk away.

The three listen and stop arguing, and Flynt turns to Penny. He takes off his shades, gives her a reassuring smile, and pats her shoulder.

Flynt: Penny, I understand you’re vulnerable and awkward right now, that’s normal. If you wanna talk about this, we’ll gladly listen but if not that’s okay too. We won’t push you, and I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable today.

Penny: Thank you Flynt Coal, your apology is accepted.

Flynt: Okay, now if there’s anything you need feel free to-

???: Excuse me.

Everyone stops in their tracks as a familiar voice rings out into the room. They look towards the door to see Winter walking towards them, stern-faced as always.

Winter: Apologies if I’m interrupting your conversation Team FNKI, but your time is almost up, and I need to have a talk with Penny. And since it seems like you have already finished up, I’d like you all to leave.

Flynt: Yes Ma’am, let's go people, time to bounce.

Flynt gives Penny a wave and heads towards the door, followed by Ivori, who gives her a sweet smile, followed by Kobalt, who ruffled her hair, and lastly Neon, who gave her a peace sign as she rolls past. Once they’ve left the room, Winter and Penny are left to converse.

Winter: Penny Polendina.

Penny: Yes, Winter Schnee.

Winter: I understand you have had a change in schedule.

Penny: Yes, I have.

Winter: When you return to your usual schedule, I’d like you to join me on my errand.

Penny: You mean the-

Winter: She’s asked for you, said that your presence was calming. I’ve already spoken to Ironwood, and he’s approved the change. As soon as your investigation is over, you’ll be accompanying me for this task twice a week. Understood.

Penny: Affirmative.

Winter: Excellent, now run along the carrier for the evening shift is leaving soon.

Penny: Yes Ma’am, have a good day.

Penny exists the room, leaving Winter alone to train, soon she’s back in Mantle and headed to the station to fill out her daily reports. It doesn’t take long as it has been a very uneventful day so she finishes in around two hours. From there she walks home, unlocking the door and stepping into the living room, turn on the lights as she enters.

Penny: I’m home-

Penny begins her usual greeting before remembering that she’s alone. Her smile drops and she heads to her room, taking off her boots along the way. She sets her backpack and boots down the flops onto her bed, she looks up at the ceiling, wonders what she should do until it’s time for her to sleep. She pulls out her scroll, hoping to find some entertainment, and notices a text from Neon reading “If you wanna any advice on how to get a date with Atlas boy, text me 😸🌈😉.” She goes red at the memory of teasing she received early and responds with a simple “No thank you.” She decides to go on her Individeo, a video, and streaming platform, app to watch some videos. She pulls up a video on making your own custom guns, she had seen the tile and saved it for another time days ago. As she watches she remembers that she saved this specific video to show her dad because she thought some of the ideas for the weapons could be used to improve some of their own guns. This realization weights on her as all the ideas and facts she wanted to discuss with her dad float around with nowhere to go. Speaking of her dad he wanted her to eat whiles he’s gone.

Now Penny could survive solely off of electricity but thanks to her biofuel converter and new nervous system she could enjoy food and turn it into fuel, making her more eco-friendly. She closes the video app and searches her memory bank for phone numbers for local restaurants that delivered. She forms a long list of options but as she has limited funds and would hate to inconvenience anyone Penny starts disqualifying the higher prices and further away eateries. Soon she narrows it down to a list of three options, a pizza place, a burger place, Ms. Ling’s. From there she evaluates them base on quality, quantity, and service rates. In the end logic and curiosity wins out as Penny picks out the one she never had before, pizza. She calls in for one medium-sized cheese pizza, just to test out the taste, and is told it will take 45 minutes to deliver. She takes this time to wash up and change into her pajamas. When the food does arrive she goes downstairs, pays, and takes her pizza. She sits the box on the table, opens it, and takes out a slice. Penny takes a bite and it’s greasy in a good way, the cheese is nice and stretchy, the tomatoes sauce compliments the cheese, and the crust has a pleasant crunch. But it just doesn’t feel tasty, it tastes good but for some reason, it just doesn't feel the way to supposed to. Penny eats two more slices then puts the rest away in the refrigerator. She goes back upstairs, brushes her teeth, plugs up, and heads to bed early.

She closes her eyes hoping to see her dad’s smiling face when she wakes again.

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #236: “I Want to Be an Avenger!”

October, 1983

Spider-Man -- An Avenger -- ?

Y’know, march of time and all that but this doesn’t seem as surprising as it once did.

Not much to say about this cover. It doesn’t have a lot to say about the issue other than ‘SPIDER-MAN INSIDE’ but boy does it say it.

But, oh, the logo changed and its snazzy! I quite like it!

So recent going-onses for the Avengers. Thor and Iron Man quit the team for personal business. Hawkeye broke his leg and is on medical forced-to-leave. Scarlet Witch and Vision were called in as reservists and Vision immediately got damaged by a crossover and has been in a robot-coma ever since. Starfox joined the team.

But in more positive news, they totally kicked the Wizard’s ass last issue and it cheered everyone up.

So the issue starts on a lazy summer day.

Scarlet Witch is on monitor duty, scanning for any ‘this looks like a job for the Avengers’ type calls. And multi-tasking by also thinking of her tubed husband.

Captain America takes his turn standing watch over the comatose synthezoid.

And for some reason, Cap leaning on the tube like that cracks me up.

Starfox spends his downtime trying to hit on Wasp.

His pickup line is so bad.

Wasp finds it charming in its misapprehension although it could also be the sexy beams Starfox emits from his brain.

And She-Hulk is taking a bath in a large barrel in the Avengers’ rec center, which they have. Maybe its the super hot bath?

She(-Hulk)’s also multi-tasking by looking up apartment listings while she soaks but finds that everything on the NY listings is either too small or too ritzy.

It be like that sometimes.

Jarvis comes into the rec center barrel bath area with iced tea for She-Hulk, trying to politely avert his eyes. But the intruder alarm goes off and she(-Hulk) tells Jarvis to hand her a towel and runs off to his flusterment.

Between Tigra and She-Hulk, I think poor Jarvis is getting overwhelmed with rad ladies on the Avengers.

The Avengers assemble in the main foyer and found that someone just barged in the front door and disabled the security tentacles with some sort of odd, artificial webbing.

Who could it be?

Who could possibly break into Avengers Mansion under the mistaken impression that its actually a cool way to impress them while asking for a job, showing that he’s learned nothing in years?

Could it be the person who expressed interest in joining in the previous issue? And who is also on the cover of this issue??

Yes.

Honestly, though, what an amazing splash page!

Also, spectacular and no-adjective.

Spider-Man knows how to make an impression.

Not a good one, certainly. But the Avengers aren’t going to forget the time he was casually chilling above the dining table.

And Pete isn’t going to forget it either. He’s going to wake up in a cold sweat years later still mortified at himself.

I also love it when the title of the issue is something someone said but since it has to be emphasized to make it clear its the title, they suddenly start yelling in the middle of a conversation.

She-Hulk has no patience for Spider-Man’s nonsense and grabs him off his web hammock to yell at him for barging in.

Spider-Man: “Well, I’m not exactly uninvited! Your buddy Thor asked me to join the club just a few months ago. Sure, I’m a little slow in replying, but I’ve had a busy season!”

And then he snarks about She-Hulk just wearing a towel because Spider-Man loves low hanging fruit.

SURELY, Spidey knows that offers usually expire, right? A few months ago is forever in comic time and Thor himself isn’t even on the Avengers right now.

I guess, in fairness, he has his reasons.

Besides his usual perpetual poverty liking the sound of a thousand bucks a week.

As he later muses to himself, Black Cat has been hospitalized because she tried to help him and he feels obligated to pay for her not-cheap medical bills. And he’s already quit grad school to spend more time earning but his freelance paychecks are nothing compared to an Avengers salary.

He’s being an incredibly presumptuous dick... but for a good cause.

And its just like Spidey that he has a good reason for being a jerk that he’d never mention leaving everyone to think he’s just a rude goofus.

What a shame.

Anyway, back at the present, Spider-Man asks where he enlists but Cap tells them that unfortunately their roster is full up. The sixth spot is being held open for Hawkeye when his leg stops being broken (and you think he was moany about being sidelined while his leg was broken, imagine him learning that he was replaced, eesh).

Cap does suggest that Spider-Man could join Starfox in the trainee program but Spidey throws a fit.

Spider-Man: “Trainee program?!? Hey, I’m Spider-Man, remember? I was sticking to walls when you guys were still looking for a clubhouse. I’m no green rookie!”

Starfox: “Green -- ? I take offense at your tone, Spider-Man!”

She-Hulk: “There’s nothing wrong with being green.”

Pffft.

As an actual rookie who is physically green, She-Hulk doesn’t care for that phrase, maybe.

She-Hulk and Starfox possibly beating up or more likely being embarrassed by Spider “will punk the entire X-Men in the not too distant future” Man is interrupted by a priority alert that goes ARROOOOOOOO

... Is it the Nixon alarm?

Why haven’t the Avengers fought Nixon’s head on a war mech yet??

Spider-Man offers to give them a hand if their priorities are being alerted but with this particular alarm, Wasp decides its best if they stick to the rules.

And then She-Hulk chases Spidey out by throwing a chair at him.

Spider-Man: Well, that was certainly a wash-out! Maybe I shouldn’t have come on as such a wise guy... Maybe I should have come to the door all humble and contrite. Nah, they wouldn’t have believed it was me!

.... Hah.

But he sees the third-floor of Avenger’s mansion opening up to launch the Quinjet and fount of good decision making that he is, he decides to jump onto the Quinjet as it launches.

Spider-Man: Whew! This baby is really starting to pick up speed! I feel like I’m in a wind tunnel. My sticky fingers can hold onto just about anything under normal circumstances... boy, I wish these were normal circumstances! I wonder if this was such a good idea.

No, Pete, it wasn’t.

But your inner monologues do add a bit more joy to this issue so I forgive you.

Inside the Quinjet, She-Hulk notes that the controls handled a bit sluggish right after take-off but eh whatever the problem disappeared after they went supersonic.

Huh. I wonder if Pete is ok.

Anyway, Captain America, She-Hulk, and Starfox are headed towards Project Pegasus.

Since it hasn’t come up in Avengers yet, Project Pegasus is a government research facility that seeks out new types and sources of energy. And Cap helped organize their security force back in Marvel Two-in-One #42.

The priority alert wasn’t the highest priority. Just a code-five, indicating a low-grade emergency. But it didn’t come with any details so Cap is vexed.

Three Avengers should be enough for a code-five but problems at Project Pegasus tend to balloon into worse problems.

You wouldn’t think a research facility would attract so much negative attention but as Cap points out, there’s a lot of people who have a vested interested in making sure energy stays scarce, expensive, and presumably non-renewable.

And considering that the oil companies like Roxxon are EVEN MORE BLATANTLY EVIL in the Marvel U, yeah, uh, bad shit is going to occur.

Also, Project Pegasus doubles as a place to jail supervillains so their powers can be studied.

So, yeah, Pegasus having a priority alert probably means a headache.

So these three Avengers are going in but Wasp and Scarlet Witch are on stand-by just in case.

The visit to the super secure research station goes off to a bad start when guards rush the Quinjet when it lands because a foreign object was detected on the undercarriage.

Of course it’s Spider-Man.

But before he can be arrested for breaking into a secure facility, his spider-sense buzzed.

It’d be a bit confusing if it wasn’t buzzing before though. He has a bunch of rattled guards pointing guns at him right after some unexplained emergency has happened.

That doesn’t set off the Peter Tingle at all??

Anyway, since the buzz is pretty intense, he figures that its warning him of something “a lot more dangerous than the lecture Cap’s going to give me!”

Hah!

He doesn’t manage to warn anyone before a tremor knocks (almost) everyone off their feet with a THROOM

Spider-Man is still standing because he loves Elton John forewarned is forewarned and he can stick to things. And to his surprise, Cap manages to stay on his feet.

Cap: “It’s just a matter of knowing how to react and how to brace yourself, Spider-Man.”

Hah!

That’s So Cap.

Spider-Man asks if he realio trulio can’t give Cap a hand with this situation. Y’know, since his spider-sense probably will come in handy. Cap isn’t sure because of the question of security but Spider-Man has an idea there.

See, he’s been here before!

In Marvel Team-Up Annual #5 he helped save the dang place! They can ask chief of security Wendell Vaughn (who is also known as Quasar but probably not to all the people in this scene?).

Unfortunately, Vaughn quit a couple months back. Oops.

But since Cap vouches for him the guard driving them to the lower levels is like ‘eh whatever.’

The power of a Cap vouch is not to be underestimate and never to be used for evil.

They’re headed to the thermal research dome because its the last known location of new security chief O’Brien. And where he sent the alert from. AND where the recent quake came from.

That’s good multitasking.

They reach the blast doors sealing off the entire level.

Because yes, not only did O’Brien send an alert, he also sealed off the entire level and now something’s jammed the lock.

They have no idea what could be locked behind there but they do have a Spider-Man and Starfox asks him if he’s getting a bad feeling about anything.

Spider-Man isn’t getting any bad vibes, deeming it safe to go inside.

Y’know, this is an amazing way to use Spider-Sense that they could do more with. I always love it when Spidey basically exploits the sense for things other than combat dodging.

Like when trying to figure out how to turn off a device he didn’t understand in Avengers EMH, he just went around almost yanking wires until he found one that didn’t set off the ‘OH MY GOD YOU’LL DEFINITELY EXPLODE IF YOU DO THAT’ buzz.

Anyway, it being probably safe, Cap tells She-Hulk and Starfox to open the door.

Which they do, with gusto.

And a GRU-U-UNNG

Inside the ruins of the thermal research dome, a bunch of semi-conscious technicians lie about in heaps.

Some Project Pegasus security personnel fan out to do administer first aid while the Avengers look for O’Brien.

Makes sense. The nameless extras help the nameless extras so we don’t go ‘hey are the Avengers dicks for only talking to people with names?’

O’Brien is pinned under an arc of steaming rock which Cap starts chipping in half with his shield while She-Hulk, Spider-Man, and Starfox - all people who could lift that rock - just stand and watch.

Or heck, maybe its not supposed to be a random rock arc. Maybe its attached to the floor. Still though, She-Hulk, Spider-Man, and Starfox could probably break it more easily than Cap does.

Teamwork makes the dream work, guys and She-Hulk.

Spider-Man recognizes O’Brien’s green and also green Not-Iron Man armor from newspapers and realizes that he’s the Guardsman.

That just makes O’Brien sad.

Guardsman: “Aye, I am... or I was. The state this armor’s in, no one’ll ever be callin’ himself the Guardsman again! As of now, I’m just plain Michael O’Brien.”

The Michael Formerly Known as Guardsman starts to Explain It All.

He had come down to the thermal dome to watch the thermal dome researchers sink a new magma tap.

But molten rock came shooting up from the tap hole, which is a thing that’s definitely not supposed to happen.

Oh, and some molten men (but not Molten Man) climbed out of the hole and started trashing the joint.

Plain Michael O’Brien realized pretty quickly that he was the only one who could stand up to these hot men so he signaled for help, hit the evacuation alarm, and sealed off the level from the rest of the project so the problem was contained.

And then he got mobbed by the hot men and got his ass kicked. Turns out that his armor was pretty useless against lava men.

Oh, yeah, Cap recognizes them as lava men from his description.

Spider-Man: “Lava men? You have to be kidding, Cap! Lava men? I don’t believe in lava men!”

Cap: “Belay that, mister! I’ve been up against lava men -- and they’re nothing to joke about! You’d better thank your stars that they left -- !”

You might also remember that Cap has been up against lava men allllllll the way back in Avengers #5. Technically the first adventure he had with the Avengers after officially joining them.

It was also the issue where Thor stoically sank into lava without changing his expression from his default vaguely annoyed one.

Anyway, O’Brien tells the Avengers that the lava men battered their way into the maintenance section since they couldn’t escape to the rest of the facility.

It’s a real good news bad news situation because there’s no one for them to hurt in there and also its a straight shot into the nuclear research dome.

And we don’t want any kind of meltdown there.

Cap decides that this looks like a job for AVENGERS to ASSEMBLE towards. And more than the three plus special guest star they already have.

MEANWHILE, over in New Orleans at an important meeting that definitely would be bad to interrupt, Monica Rambeau (secretly the Avenger known as Captain Marvel but not the dead guy version, true believers) is applying for a small business loan.

And then she gets a bzzt on her radio watch for an Avengers emergency.

Oh no, what of her small business loan!

And also: what small business is she starting? I think I heard at one point that she ran a fishing business with her father?

But what of her small business loan!

Well, Monica agrees with her bank guy Mr. Hillbee that its an alarm watch and that its reminding her of another pressing engagement so hey is there a lot more that they have to do here?

Luckily, all that’s left is for her to sign the documents.

Phew, I’m very used to superhero stuff interrupting a superhero’s civilian life and then them angsting about it. It’s actually a relief that Monica was able to finish up at the bank before dashing off to a phone booth to take a radio watch call with Scarlet Witch.

Wanda tells Monica that they just received a call from Cap(tain America) telling them to get to Project Pegasus. Wanda tells Monica that they’re in transit now and asks if she can join them.

And then the line goes dead before Wanda can give coordinates.

Because Monica just followed the radio signal back to the Quinjet.

She apologizes that it took her so long (!!) because she had to stop at home first to pick up her costume.

Wanda marvels captainly “And I thought my brother, Pietro, was fast!”

Ha ha amazing.

I love Captain Monica Marvel’s ridiculous powerset.

She’s even talking right into their radio so she can communicate from outside the Quinjet.

Wasp, Scarlet Witch, and Captain Marvel arrive at Project Pegasus where they’re briefed of the lava men situation by some of the security staff.

Captain Marvel nyooms ahead lightspeed dash style while Wasp and Scarlet Witch lag behind by taking a high-speed railcar.

Dang, Project Pegasus is big.

I just flipped ahead pages to see how long it takes Captain Marvel to join Cap(tain America)’s group and its a bit.

I guess maybe there’s some overlapped time going on though.

Meanwhile, two technicians in research dome D-2 (called the Compound for some dang reason) ignore all the various alarms and such that have been happening because they’re super into their project. And are possibly mad scientists.

They have the intensity.

But they’re working on... Dr. Croit’s stabilizer? And apparently its vibratory pitch was changed by the tremor that happened? Unbeknowst to them, Captain Marvel just nyoomed by outside and the proximity of her energy form activates the device and the silhouette of some guy leaps out proclaiming FREE!!

Back at the Avengers side of the plot, Cap(tain America)’s group has encountered some lava men.

Spider-Man: “Hey, Cap... I take it all back! I do believe in lava men! I really do!”

Hah.

The lava men are between the Avengers and the nuclear dome so Cap starts thinking of ways to flank them so they can keep them away from it.

She-Hulk starts trying to plow a hole through their forces and... uh.... ok. Cap has Starfox just fly around and annoy the lava men because they’ve never seen a flying man before and its just freaking them out.

Really.

Cap asks Spider-Man to use his webbing to throw up some barriers in the lava men’s path.

Spider-Man: “Heck, I can do better than that, Cappy! Just a couple spritzes of webbing, and these little hotheads won’t be going anywhere for hours!”

Cap: “No, you young fool! Don’t you see what you’ve done!”

Throwing web on the lava men makes them panic because it seems like there’s a lot of stuff that they’re not familiar with and all of it alarms them. When they’re alarmed, their body temperature raises and can get up thousands of degrees.

So they just melt loose of the webbing and now they’ve learned not to be afraid of the webbing at all and they can’t use it to corral them.

Spider-Man: “Would it help if I said I’m sorry?”

Cap: “It would help if you’d follow orders! The Avengers is a team! If you want to be part of the team, act like it! Otherwise, stay out of our way!”

Yeahhhhh. I mean, most of the time. You have your fair share of idiots doing their own thing in the Avengers because all of these guys have egos you wouldn’t believe. But generally they can agree to work as a team.

And Spider-Man, of this era, isn’t much of a team player. Not like Wolverine or Batman ‘i work best alone, bub’ type of not a team player where they’re lying about not being good at teamwork because they like being surly and dour because they think it makes them more interesting. But Spider-Man mostly works alone and is used to just doing whatever he thinks the best idea is. And he has the proportionate speed and reflexes of a spider so he can do whatever he thinks the best idea is way before you can tell him its a bad idea.

That’s why Spider-Man makes so many bad decisions, because he can make them faster than good sense can catch up [citation needed].

Anyway, as he is NOW, he’s not a good fit for the Avengers.

Then again, neither was Hawkeye and they let him join. Makes ya think.

Back over at surprise man out of a box lab, the surprise man was Blackout.

He looks like he’d be an electricity themed villain but apparently his element is darkness. Annd he debuted in Nova annnd this is his second appearance?

At the end of his debut story Nova #19, Blackout was apparently sucked into the Darkforce dimension, a fate that Dr. Croit’s stabilizer had been invented to prevent.

So I guesss.... the stabilizer’s settings were altered by an earthquake and then it was powered by ambient energy from Captain Marvel zipping past and it managed to stabilize Blackout, yanking him free of the Darkforce dimension?

I guess??

As far as villain returns go, its not the most ridiculous but it is a bit contrived.

Blackout has no idea where he is and rants about how he’ll level the place if that’s what it takes to find his way out and in a more acceptable contrivance, he happens to be passing Moonstone’s cell when he says this out loud to nobody in particular and she likes the cut of his jib.

Moonstone: “Sounds like you’re a man after my own heart!”

Moonstone tells Blackout that she’s been locked up here so Project Pegasus could study her powers and that they want to use her the way they would have used Blackout but hey what if they join forces and get some comeuppance.

Blackout: I don’t know if I should trust her... But something about her voice is so reassuring.

Yeah, that’s what we call a red flag, you dingus.

Are we back to the days where some dudes will just villain because a lady bats her eyes?

Anyway, the locking mechanism is too complicated to figure out so Blackout just squeezes it until it explodes.

Um. Okay.

-checks wiki-

The wiki says he’s only supposed to have normal human strength but Blackout himself claims that his body is a living generator of black star energies.

Which apparently means he can squeeze an electronic lock to death. I dunno.

Freed from her cell, Moonstone leads Blackout to what they can do next.

Meanwhile, the Avengers are still struggling with the lava men two levels below. And the fracas has reached the corridor to the nuclear dome. Its now or never but the numbers are too overwhelming even for She-Hulk.

Spider-Man manages to leap above the fray and get forgotten in the confusion but doesn’t find that he can do much. He tries webbing the door to the nuclear dome shut but the lava men don’t even bother opening it when they can melt through.

Hmmmmm not a good showing for a guest starring so far...

When the lava men succeed in melting through the door, a blinding light shines through and the lava men kneel down and start bowing to it.

Ohhhhhh, I get it! They’re not trying to cause a meltdown! They just want to worship nuclear light!

... No? I don’t got it? Okay.

The bright light is actually Captain Marvel who took a shortcut to the nuclear dome to reach the Avengers.

And the lava men are really enamored with her, proclaiming her the lady of light foretold in legends.

Captain Marvel just kinda rolls with this and asks them whats the deal with all the rampaging and destroying.

Lava man: “We did but strike back, radiant one! Our village, deep beneath the Earth, knew peace -- until the surface men bored into our midst with their machines. We could not allow this attack to go unanswered. We only used our powers to stop the invasion!”

Wait, isn’t this the plot of the Jetsons movie?

Cap(tain America) smoothly slides in, diplomatically, to announce that then the surface people beg forgiveness and that this has all been an unfortunate misunderstanding that he pledges shall be put right.

And like how Cap’s clout got Spider-Man into this story, Cap borrows Captain Marvel’s clout to back up his diplomacy roll, saying “The Lady-of-Light will tell you that I speak the truth!”

It’s a good thing that Monica wouldn’t go mad with power.

Also, Scarlet Witch and Wasp show up, while Spider-Man snarks that they “missed the end of the movie.”

But since we can’t have pat resolutions given the subplot that was happening while the Avengers were distracted elsewhere, in the Compound, it turns out that Blackout and Moonstone have freed Electro and Rhino. And Moonstone has a Big Evil Plan.

Blackout: “Pay them back? Yes... yes, we must. But how?”

Moonstone: “In the best way possible! We’re going to bring this place to its knees -- by seizing the nuclear research dome!”

But that’s where the Avengers are! Silly villains, you’ve double booked!

Also, I wonder if the universe cosmically influenced Moonstone to get two Spider-villains involved on the one day that Spider-Man was tagging along.

I also wonder what Moonstone is thinking. She’s the ‘know when to fold ‘em’ villain.

Hmmm... Putting Electro and Blackout side by side makes Blackout look like Electro’s grumpy younger brother.

All kinds of good decisions have been made!

Follow @essential-avengers​ for more thoughts on villain couture. Also like and reblog so I can feel like I did a good job.

[dragons-socks]

Baby Bumblebee chptr 2

Bumblebee woke up inside Ironhide. He was paralyzed with confusion and fear until the morning’s findings came back to him. He was human, smaller than Sam even. He ran his fingers against the leather of his comrade. It was smooth, but also had small textures where the seams of the seats were. Such a small detail the autobot usually doesn’t notice. Did his own seats feel like this? Lennox asked how he was feeling, but how could he explain to the human how lost he was. How could he put into words he couldn’t use that he didn’t know what to do?

He already knew Optimus didn’t want him, and while Ironhide was trying to explain what Lennox had earlier, it just made his chest ache. It took so long for them to reach Lennox’s house. He could have done it faster in his alt form. A form that was gone, along with everything else. Bee tried to get out of Ironhide but his legs were still weak and Lennox had to pull him out. It was humiliating and Bee couldn’t help but feel his eyes burn and feel wet at the same time.

“Bee, you remember Sarah, right?” Lennox asked, gesturing to his wife. Bee did remember the woman. She was nicer than Sam’s parents at least.

“Welcome to the family, Bumblebee.” The way she said that. The way she smiled and tried to touch his hair. The way that everyone just decided this is where he was going to be without him. His eyes started to leak and soft hics and huffs pushed past his mouth. Bee stumbled away, hiding behind the large wheels of Ironhide.

The mech gently transformed into his biped form and shielded the kid from the humans.

Bee chirped and tsked and tried to talk to the autobot. He wanted to go back to Optimus. He promised he wouldn’t get underfoot. He would even help Ratchet without complaining. He can be useful still.

“I can’t understand you anymore, Bee.” Ironhide said solemnly. “But I can guess. And I promise by the All Spark, I will not leave you.”

Lennox was back by Bee’s side coaxing him into his house and onto a couch that he shouldn’t be able to fit on. Bee sat there, curled up in a soft yellow blanket and cloths that didn’t quite fit him. He could hear Lennox and Sarah talking in their kitchen as the wife made food.

“We can’t just harbor a child, Will. So what’s your plan?” Sarah asked in a hushed whisper, but still loud enough for the autobot to hear.

“We’ve got people drawing up paperwork so anyone looking too hard will just find a kid that we’ve adopted. That’s the hard part, and it’s being taken care of.” Lennox replied.

“The hard part? The hard part is getting him culturized as a human. To get him into a school, and accustomed to our world on such an intimate level. The hard part is making sure we understand him, Will. At least as a giant robot he had the ability to use the radio as his voice.” Sarah ran a hand down her face.

“You don’t give Sam credit enough of showing Bumblebee human culture.” Lennox tried to lighten the mood, but Sarah wasn’t having it.

“Are we changing his name?” She asked.

“What?” Lennox jeered back. “Why would we change his name?”

“It’s Bumblebee, like an insect. Who is going to believe someone named their child after an insect?” Sarah shook her head.

“If Jay-Z adn Beyonce can name their kid ‘Blue Ivy’. Bumblebee can keep his name. Plus it’s not like he’s an actual eight year old. He just looks eight. He’s got tough skin.” Lennox shook his head. “You’re worrying too much, babe. It’ll work out in the end, just take it one day at a time. Just like we do with Annabell.”

Bumblebee huddled further into his nest in the corner of the couch. He tried to tune out the conversation in the kitchen and watch the television. The house soon filled with a strange sent. Bee beeped with urgency rolling off the couch and running to the humans, tugging on Lennox’s pant leg to get him to leave his house with his wife and kid. Something was trying to poison them!

“What’s up, Bee?” Lennox asked, not seeming to be alarmed by the sent. So Bee touched his nose, looking around, trying to get the message across. “Yeah, it does smell good. Sarah’s almost done making dinner.”

Be turned to Sarah as she put piles of steaming things onto plates and brought them to the table. While most of the smell stayed in the kitchen, the plates also carried the same scent. Which meant Sarah was either trying to kill everyone. Or this was a weird human thing.

“Come sit down, Bee.” Sarah patted a chair on their small kitchen table. He shuffled to the chair and had to sit on his knees to be able to see and reach everything properly. He watched as Sarah and Lennox began eating with the small silver things. He copied them, but found it was a lot harder than he thought as he fisted the fork and stabbed it into the meal. Once on the fork he watched as the others chomped down and mashed it up with their teeth and jaws.

The sensation was weird, hot and inside him. It turned into a sort of paste that wasn’t enjoyable to feel at all, but the taste was nice. It coated his tongue and made him feel happy. But after a while of chewing he grew bored. He couldn’t tell what was aking their food vanish and make room for more? Until his mouthful got close to the back of his throat, which convulsed automatically and the food vanished. Bee dropped his fork and started to panic.

“Hey, it’s okay. That’s normal, kid. It’s called eating.” Lennox was by his side in a moment, patting his back as Bee tried to couch his heart out. Bee let out shrieks and hisses, clinging to the man. Once he calmed down Lennox tried to return him to his dinner, but Bee outright refused to eat. It was a terrible experience. His stomach even growled and roared with unwant.

“You gotta eat, kid.” Bee shook his head, baring his teeth and growling at his food along with his stomach.

“Bumblebee, you’re tummy is trying to tell you that it needs more.” Sarah crotched down next to the child. “I promise it gets better. And you’ll feel better once you eat.” Bee shook his head again, looking away from the plate.

“I’ll let you see Sam if you eat.” Lennox said. Sam? Bee blinked, cocking his head. “Yeah, you can hang out with him and Mikaela.” Bee nodded and took another bite of the food. He didn’t want to let it down his throat but Lennox’s continual promise that this is how it worked quelled some of Bee’s anxieties. It took a whole hour to finish the plate. At the end, Bee didn’t exactly feel better, but he did feel less tired.

That was when Annabell was dropped off by the babysitter.

“Oh, it’s nice to see you home, Captain Lennox.” The girl, about Sam’s age, waved as Lennox was pulling Bumblebee out of a kitchen cabinet.

“Hello, Kasey. Thanks again for looking after Annabell.” Lennox approached, Bee held like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder. Bumblebee chittered and tried to crawl out of his capture, almost kicking Lennox in the face.

“Who’s the kid?” Kasey narrowed her eyes at the eight year old.

“A friend of mine passed. We’ve decided to look after the kid in his absence.” Lennox explained.

“Sure, just know I take double for any additions.” She threatened before kneeling down. “Byebye Annabell. See ya, later.”

“Byebye Kasey.” Annabell laughed before turning to her dad. “Who’s that?”

“This is Bumblebee, Baby girl. He’s gonna be living with us.”

“Like the car? Vroom?” She looked at the boy, who looked down at her and made rumbling noises in his chest.

“Sort of, yeah. Why don’t you go put your stuff away in your room and you two can play before bed time?” She nodded and grabbed her bag, running to her room. Be gave an irritated chirp. He didn’t want to play with a baby human. He wanted to go into the tiny dark closet and be alone. He wanted to be with Sam. He wanted to be with Optimus and the others, but that wasn’t going to be an option. “Just be nice. And don’t make her cry.” Lennox warned.

Sarah came out of her room with a hand full of toys, dropping them down in the middle of the living room before grabbing onto Bumblebee and pulling him to sit with her around the pile. She picked up each one and explained them and what she named them. Bee didn’t really care about the multitudes of plastic human females or the tiny plastic horses. He did, however, find a set of tiny cars. There was a yellow car, with white stripes and one of the wheels was missing. He picked it up and looked at it.

“And you can be the boy.” Annabell thrusted a doll into Bee’s face. He made a few chirps, lifting up the toy car. “No, we’re playing house, not cars.” Annabell pouted.

Bee pushed the human toy away and grabbed the car. He didn’t want to pretend to be a human. He was already one, and it wasn’t fun. He wanted to be a car. He said as much in his huffs and tsks. The smaller child didn’t understand morse code, not like her dad.

“No, you can’t be a car!” Annabell shouted, yanking the toy from his hands. He felt his fists ball up, but he wasn’t allowed to hurt humans. Optimus would surely never take him back if he broke that rule. So he took deep breathes like he sees Lennox do when dealing with the twins or his own men. “You have to be the human!”

Bumblebee chirped angrily, ignoring the girl and picking the car back up. She stomped her foot and snatched the car once again, forcing the doll into Bumblebee’s hand and threw the car down the hall so hard another wheel popped off. Bumblebee stood there, glaring at the stupid human doll. It was tiny, and frail, almost as humans were to Bee just a day ago. He looked at the girl and threw the toy as she did the car. It hit the corner of the wall and it’s head popped off. The girl start to wail, but Bee didn’t care. He stormed out of the house and climbed into Ironhide’s passenger side.

“I can’t take you anywhere, kid.” Ironhide said, sending a text to Lennox that Bee was safe with him if the man was looking. Bee nodded, letting out a string of wobbling chirps. He just wanted to be away from the other humans. He didn’t have to be elsewhere. Bee didn’t stay alone for long. Lennox pulled open the door, an angry look on his face.

“I said not to make her cry, Bumblebee.” Lennox’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was angry. Bee didn’t turn to the human. She was the one who threw the car first, so Bee could just claim he thought that was the game they were playing. He knew it was a lie, but what did he care? “I know you know not to throw things. You aren’t an actual child. Why did you do it.”

She did it first. Morse code took a long time to spell out, each letter having to be chirped out one at a time. It almost made Bee miss his binary-talk when his vocoder had first broken.

“She is a child.” Lennox’s arms were crossed. Bee shrunk down at that, holding his knees tighter to his body but still not turning to look at the captain. “What made you think that breaking the toys was okay?”

I don’t want to be a human. Bee chittered.

“I know, but that doesn’t mean you have to be a brat.” Lennox was still angry.

I don’t want to be a human and I don’t want to pretend-play a human. I just wanted the stupid toy car, and she doesn’t know morse code. And she was the one to throw it first. I - Bee trailed off after that, his eyes were leaking again. I’m sorry

Lennox relaxed, uncrossing his arms and running a hand down his face. He leaned more casually against Ironhide’s door frame. The mech rumbled his engines to send soothing vibrations to the kid in his seat.

“You’ve been having a rough day, huh Bee?” Lennox’s voice was soft, like he used back in the hospital and to get Bee to continue to eat. It rumbled like an engine, but was smooth and silk-like all the same. Bee nodded into his knees. He took a deep breath. “I’ll be back in a second.”

Bee relaxed a little bit as the human left. He smashed his face into Ironhide’s cool seats and let the soft rumbling lull him into a drowsy state. The mech didn’t say his concerns out loud, letting his thoughts text out to Lennox so Bee wouldn’t be so frightened and stressed. And Ironhide was no medic, but he was around Ratchet long enough to understand and make a few theories on his own. Bumblebee usually acted childish, and could be rash at time, but never like this. If the chemicals of a human child flowed through him, he could very well have the emotional outlook and developlement of what this body allowed him to have. In other words, if Bee’s body was eight, he might have the emotional mentality of his body.

Lennox came back, opening up the driver’s door and getting in.

“We’re going for a drive.” Lennox said, and Ironhide revved up his engine and pulled out of the house. Bee didn’t make any move to acknowledge the man, but as the minutes grew longer and the silence stretched one, it was either find himself falling asleep or engage with the human.

Where are we going?

“Just one a ride, kid.”

They didn’t get back to the house until the moon was already high in the sky, and Bee was this side of staying conscious. Lennox helped him through the house and back onto the couch, making a list of everything they needed to get for the kid to be comfortable. But that was a job for tomorrow.

[iwriteforthetincanman]

Mandoctober Day 16: Tatooine

ALT TITLE: Stardust, The Force and one big beautiful mess

A/N: at first I wanted to continue the sandcrawler scavenger reader I did (which I will do eventually with or without Mandoctober to guide me) but I went through some personal stuff so I more or less wanted to base this around family and where your roots are from rather than Tatooine itself, which in its essence is that one scene with Luke skywalker standing outside his home with the twin suns and later on down the line, his final resting place along with his twin sister Leia. 

Someone dear to me passed away almost ten years ago now. The anniversary is the day Season two comes out. Which is essentially why I’m so committed to this fandom now. But I also wanted to write something just to get the remaining grief out of my system. 

Mum, this one is for you.

Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum Buir.

Poe Dameron x reader, Nameless!Mother (or Mother Figure) x Din Djarin

(FOR CLARIFICATION DIN DJARIN IS THE READER’S FATHER IN THIS ONE)

also somehow I wrote 5K in two hours none stop...am I Alexander Hamilton? 

It had been so long since I had been home. It hurt to think of the place where I came from. Hatred had leaked into my very belief system, my culture...even my family. 

I felt like they hated me for leaving... but I was scared that they’d never miss me. That I had only been a ghost in their lives. There for 18 years and then poof! I was gone. 

My father, Din Djarin, the Mandalorian saved my mother from slavery when she was quite young. Around my age to be precise. He had no idea at the time because she had been living with an Ugnaught named Kuill. That’s why my middle name is Kuill. I owe that fateful Ugnaught my existence for freeing my own mother from slavery when she was barely even a woman. 

She had nowhere else to go...and instead of keeping her grounded and sheltered away from the rest of the world. He let her live. 

Growing up you hear stories of people dying all around you, neighbours, friends and yes, even pets. It hurts so much you can’t even comprehend it. You become numb and barren to the pains of the world.

It feels like you don’t care anymore.

It got to a point where I was making things up in my head out of anger. How I would’ve handled things differently, what I wanted to do with my life, where I wanted to go.

But my father had only one strict rule.

Once we set down roots...we can never leave.

I never questioned it after the first time he told me why. 

My mother...on the day I decided to leave, knew that something was wrong.

Lately I had been restless, agitated and easy to anger. 

At first she thought I had fallen pregnant. Something that had made us both laugh at the time. It was a hollow memory to me now. I had no idea if she was dead or alive. 

It hurt. The unknown. Death, life. It didn’t matter. 

What mattered was the fight to live. To help others thrive.

You were raised to be everything the First Order was against. 

So of course you wanted to join the resistance at the first chance you got.

---

“NO.”

“But-”

“No means no! Do you have any idea what your mother and I went through to bring you this life, so you could live in the peace that the universe scarcely gives? Do you have any idea how lucky you are?!”

“That’s exactly why I have to go! Don’t you understand that! I love living here. But some people aren’t as lucky. You know that more than anyone in this village buir. Mum knows it too.”

It went deadly quiet for a moment. 

“I did not bring you this life...risked everything with my culture, my creed, just so you could selfishly throw it away...I don’t want you to die like my parents did Ad’ika.”

I didn’t say it then but...that was another reason you needed to go. To make your ancestors and those Mandalorians who came before your father proud. 

It was the one time Din Djarin had let his guard down.

You crept away into the night, leaving only a kiss on your little (in size) brother’s brow and a note next to your mother’s tools.

It was the best way you could’ve said goodbye. 

“I am one with the force and the force is with me...This is the way.” 

---

Two whole weeks later I found yourself on a planet that was the polar opposite of what I was used to. So much technology that I didn’t know the names of, ships, speeders, weapons and people. 

It was strange how seeing so many people made you euphoric at the time. I was only a rookie, and I had never left home before. Of course I was nervous. 

There was so much to learn! Keeping up with the resistance is what scared you, what if they threw you out? You had trained under your mother’s mechanical know how just to get here but what if-

“Djarin! Y/N!”

“HERE!” You hadn’t realised how loud you had been until all the people turned to look at you funny. Whispers and giggles followed. Maker, this was embarrassing. 

“Good to know you’re here. I’m Poe Dameron by the way. Noticed you weren’t paying attention. You nervous?” Making eye contact with the most gorgeous man you had ever seen was the last thing you had expected. He was a hot shot pilot apparently. You heard a girl giggle behind your head as she winked at him. Oh, give me a break. 

“...A little.”

“Okay well don’t be. You recruited for a reason and according to where you’ve been registered you’re the best mechanic we’ve seen in a long while. Which is why you’ve been assigned to my X-Wing.” 

Jealousy dripped in ugly green buckets. You were quite fond of the colour, with it being the colour of your little brother’s skin. But...it hurt nonetheless. 

“Yes sir.” You whimpered pathetically.

You were doing this for them. Not for some pilot you had only just met. Well...him too. 

---

Crashing into General Leia Organa with heaps of your paperwork was not how you planned your first day ending.

“Kriffing Bantha fodder! Why don’t you watch where you’re-Oh my god you’re Princess Leia.” 

To say you had been absolutely obsessed with her when you were younger was an understatement. 

She reminded you of your mother in so many ways it hurt to look at her.

Which is why you were so confused when she touched your cheek only to find yourself crying at just the sight of her. 

---

“So...you left on bad terms with not only your father, but your family in general. Even if your mother never found out?”

“I’m worried that it’ll put a strain on my parents relationship with each other more than anything...I can’t contact them or write. It’s too risky.”

“Your father taught you well.” 

“Wait...you know who my father is?”

“Many people have heard of the Mandalorian that killed Moff Gideon with the dark saber. Some have speculated that it was a myth...now I can see that it wasn’t since you are living proof of what Mandalorians can create.”

“My mother was never a Mandalorian. She was a Mechanic through and through...she just happened to be thrown into motherhood twice along the way.” you joked bitterly.

Your parents had told you the tales of Moff Gideon. It was a fairytale that had been shrouded in mystery. Something you weren’t expecting to hear from the two people you admired the most. 

“I love my family. That’s all Mandalorians care about. Their clan and their people as a whole. I’ve neglected that part of myself for far too long. We had to hide to be safe. It made me angry. I told my dad I was going to leave the night before I did. He said no...I went anyway. It doesn’t matter what he thinks...not right now. I have to put what matters to me in this universe first.”

“Hmm...you sound a lot like a young jedi knight i used to know.” 

“Are you talking about Master Luke Skywalker?” You were getting excited now. 

“No...one of his students he took for a very brief period. You see the child was the same species as Master Yoda but he was already fifty years old. A relationship where a padawan is already older than their teacher? That...now that is strange.” Leia giggled to herself. 

Everytime you glanced at her all you could see were fragments of your own mother. You understood why everyone here adored her. Why she was in command whilst others who thought they deserved it, weren’t.

She was a mother through and through. Whether to her own child or not, you knew she didn’t realise this one fact alone. 

“You remind me of my buir. She has many similar features...not the same just, similar.” 

“I’m honoured you think of me that way Djarin. But I believe that there is an anxious pilot waiting for you in the hangar.” 

“Kriff! Thank you for the Caff General. It's a lot different to what I’m used to but it’s a welcome change.” Getting this out in one breath you bowed somewhat awkwardly before running out of the canteen. 

---

“Y’know you’re strange right?”

“Kriff!” Banging your head on the bottom of Poe’s X-Wing was not how you wanted this to pan out. 

“You’re annoying, did you know that?”

Watching his face was like observing a painting, depending on your interpretation and the angle the motions you saw were just-

“Mesh’la.”

“What...is that some weird curse word or somethin’?” 

“Uh! No, I mean, yes! I mean...maybe.” scratching the back of your neck, you attempted to soothe the bump that was forming there. That was going to be a little ray of sunshine to wake up to tomorrow morning. 

“Hey, let me take a look at that.” Turning around somewhat hesitantly. You let Poe take a look at your ‘wound’. 

“Yikes, looks like a lot of blood.” 

“What!” 

“I’m kidding. It was a joke to get you less stressed out...obviously it didn’t work.”

“Sorry...I’m just anxious, I guess.” 

“Wanna talk about it? My X-wing is in great shape right now by the way, my old mech checked her out before you shipped in. He was a great guy but...he was one of a handful we lost.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Hey it’s okay. Death is a part of life, unfortunately I learnt that at a tender young age.”

“What happened? ...if you don’t  mind me asking that is.” 

“...My mother, she was a pilot just like me. She fought for what she believed in and yet, she died anyway. It hurts but...I fight because of what my parents did.”

“No way! Me too! My parents took a back seat compared to what the resistance did back in the day but my Dad was a total badass and my mum...well, my mum was a slave.” 

The look of shock you saw on Poe’s face was something you mistook for awkwardness. 

“I’m sorry if I overstepped Captain Dameron.” 

“Nah, you did the complete opposite actually...we’re gonna spend a lot of time together for god knows how long so it’s good that we get the emotional baggage out of the way first.”

The smile he gave you made your knees turn to jelly. 

You didn’t know then how taken Poe already was with you, He thought you were cute, but he underestimated how much of a badass you really were. The knowledge of your parents though...he tucked that away for safe keeping right next to the ring that sat against his heart. 

Little did he know then how much emotional baggage you really had...

---

-3 YEARS LATER-

“DJARIN WE NEED YOU IN MEDICAL STAT!” 

“DON’T YELL AT ME LIKE I’M ONE OF YOUR NURSES MCLAGGEN! I CAN HANDLE IT!”

“I KNOW THAT, THAT’S WHY WE NEED YOU!”

Although you admired your crew mates sometimes you wanted to rip off their kriffin’ heads. 

Everyone was stressed lately. All three of the golden trio had vanished, out of sight, out of mind. And to make matters worse, Leia was just as worried as you were. 

“Commander Djarin!”

“Poe!” Running to your best friend in the whole freaking universe, you wrapped him in the biggest hug you could muster. You had been so worried about him. 

“I missed you! I was so worried...I didn’t know what to think…” Shame and guilt crept into your very being as Poe stood before you, he was carrying a very solemn aura. Something bad had just happened. You could feel it all around you now. People were sobbing in the courtyard. 

Everyone was upset...but that could only mean-

“No...No, don’t you dare tell me she’s gone.”

“Y/N I’m sorry.” Poe was a mess, just like you.

He held you in his arms as you screamed in agony until nightfall. 

---

“I’m never gonna be good enough for this. Not like she was.” 

Hearing Poe go through the worst thing he had ever faced once again broke your heart tenfold. More than yours was breaking already. 

“Poe Dameron, you listen to me and listen well okay?” 

Every part of his being was hyper focused on you as you said these next words, it’s like you were commanding them into his brain. 

“Leia loved you. She may have never said it out loud but she said it in the ways any mother would. She was the mother of the resistance sure but she had a real soft spot for you after everything with...Ben.”

Comparing Poe to Kylo Ren was a painful business but everything about grief was painful, it made you focus on the good and the bad. 

“Family is more than blood. That’s what my father’s creed taught me. I will never forget it as long as I live. When this is all over and he’s not going to put a knife through my chest just for leaving I’ll introduce you. Hell, I’d drag you back to my home planet right now if i could...you would love it.” 

“I’m sure I would...Mesh’la.”

“...What did you just call me?”

“I got that right didn’t I? It’s not an insult, it’s a compliment? I thought it meant beautiful I was just guessing off interpretation I didn’t read any mmph-”

You had cut him off by slamming your lips onto his. Sure, it was inappropriate to make out in front of both your mother figure’s corpse but...you knew by now that many times she had told you to tell him how you truly felt when it came to war?

It was now or never. 

She had that with Han Solo and in the blink of an eye he had left. 

But Poe? Poe had been your constant throughout all of this, he loved you in ways you could only imagine and you loved him. Even if the kiss ended up not meaning anything...you knew you would never regret it as long as you live. 

“Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum Poe Dameron.”

“WHA- what, um, ahem, does uh, that mean?” You had flustered him, you felt pride in your very soul for doing that. 

But Damn if his tousled hair didn’t like so fine? Maybe it was the fact you had just clawed your fingers through it like the world was ending...but in a way it kind of was. 

“I will keep you in my heart forever...that’s the Mandalorian way of saying I love you Poe Dameron.” 

“Oh...MANDO’A!” 

You leapt back at this, not the reaction you were hoping for. But it was so ardently Poe you couldn’t help the grin on your face. 

“What about it?”

“That’s your culture! Your language! That’s why you told me your father is such a bad-...ass”

“There a reason you’re just saying ‘ass’ to yourself, General?”

“Oh bantha fodder...I’m gonna have to ask for your father’s blessing to marry you by talking to a Mandalorian?” 

An audible gasp snapped him out of his stupor.

“You...you were gonna propose?”

“Of course.”

The painting had returned. The painting you kept in your heart and sang to every day. The one you comforted when he had nightmares, no matter how close to your body he was, you knew by that point your friendship was long gone. 

You had never put a label on it...but in a way, you had always been each other’s ‘one’.

And now...He was asking you to be his riduur?

“Leia convinced me. She said if I didn’t buckle up and saw what was right in front of me throughout this whole war. I would've killed myself over my love for you.” Confirming that he was in fact, in love with you, was a breath of fresh air. 

Even if the jungle you had been camped out in for months on end had changed your temperament you couldn’t help the tears welling up in not just your eyes but Poe’s as well. 

“Y/N Kuill Djarin. I love you so damn much it hurts to leave you every time I ran to that hangar. I knew everytime I left it could’ve been the last time and it scared me. Because who was I going to be if I never found my forever girl? My mom told me that much before she passed…” 

Shara Bey’s ring. The fact that he had carried the ring of his deceased mother around for years on end just to be close to her made your heart simultaneously sing and cry. 

Not only because the ring was now yours to keep. 

But so was the man who gave it to you. 

That night, before the final battle, your hearts beat as one.

---

You had won.

Everyone had celebrated, you both drank so much that when you woke up in bed together the next day, despite the crippling twin headaches, all the two of you could do was laugh. 

“I mean...if we think about logically it was only a matter of time before one of us pounced on the other?” You offered into the awkward harmony you had both fallen into. 

“Yeah but I just really wanna know...I didn’t hurt you right?” 

You had never told him, but Poe knew just by the way you had gotten up to get some water, despite the fact he was ready for round two almost instantly due to how the sheets bunched and fell from your figure, that you were a virgin. 

But just from the simple process of illumination of what little you had told him of your life before the Resistance or BP he liked to call it (before Poe), you preferred BB (before Beeps), he knew you had never been in a relationship. Not properly anyway. 

Not with him. 

In a way the thought of being your first filled him with joy...but every time he had imagined it he had expected to be a gentleman, rose petals, lilies, gods, any flowers he could’ve found in that blasted rainforest would’ve been perfect! 

What he didn’t understand was how the drink had addled his brain so drastically that he had just pounced like a feral animal on his precious girl. He wanted to take your innocence on your wedding night (Your engagement hadn’t yet been announced to the Resistance as you both wanted to wait for the onslaught of weddings to die down before the wedding of the century was even announced so in a way, your relationship as fiance’s technically still didn't exist). 

And yet...you realised something during the haze and the blur of everything Poe and you last night. 

You had made a new home here, a life for yourself...and it was good. 

You had done exactly what your parents did and more.

So of course you were emotional. I mean, you two hadn’t even used protection!

Although...you didn’t share this with Poe the thought of a little version of you and him growing within you? It set your heart on fire. So when you kissed him with the passion of a thousand thunderstorms, you didn’t hesitate to return the favour of last night...and then some. 

---

Shuffling into the cantina had never felt so awkward in all of your three years here. You were 21 years of age now. People hooked up all the time and it’s not like you broadcasted your virginity to anyone here.

That was until the green bundle of joy himself practically flew into your arms. 

“Ad’ika?!” Your exclamation panicked Poe, his hand immediately going to your waist as he inspected the creature wrapped around your neck. BB8 whirled in Ad’ika’s wake, circling the figure of 8’s around the both of you. 

“What, they did?” Ad’ika looked up at you like you had grown three heads. Sure, he looked like a kid. But he was now roughly 90 years old. He was a fully grown child now. You still blushed like a little girl apparently as he continuously giggled into your neck.

“Not important right now buddy. Where are our buirs?” You muttered tearfully. Today had turned into a whole other kind of day. 

“C’MON GUYS HURRY UP I’VE NEVER SEEN A REAL LIFE MANDALORIAN BEFORE!!” Seeing friends of yours running past only to be met with the vision of your buirs brought you the relief that no bacta patch (or in this one specific case casual sex???) could ever give. 

Your mother was vision as always and Poe confirmed it.

“Y/N...I knew the day I first met you that you were beautiful but the fact that your mother looks almost exactly like you right now scares me.” 

“Poe, whatever you do don’t say anything inappropriate around my Da, he won’t appreciate it, at all.” 

Even though you were smiling like crazy, Poe knew you were being deadly serious. You didn’t want anything to ruin today. 

Besides, there was only one reason your buirs were wearing their armor once more. Your father was wearing all of his Mandalorian armor, scuffed and slightly dusty with age (he had clearly left in a hurry) but your mother was wearing her long forgotten robes. Once she was planning on giving to you one day. You realised she looks a lot like Rey right now. 

The dark saber she carried at her side confirmed it. 

But her eyes meeting yours from across the room as she spotted her daughter reunited with your son, caused both you and Poe to tear up once more as she grabbed her Riduur’s hand. 

“Excuse us.” Polite as always, she waited for no one as she made her way to you and only you as she almost tripped over poor Beeps in the process. 

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

You both laughed a similar laugh that any one around would recognise. It was like Leia had come home but you all knew she was gone...she was never truly gone. She lived on through each and everything the resistance had touched. 

Including you...and Poe.

Din and your mother.

Ad’ika...and Luke Skywalker.

Your mother the day she killed Moff Gideon with a light saber that she did not know she had the untaught skills to possess.

It was like strings were tangling and wrapping and strangling…

Except it was beautiful.

“We missed you so much Ad’ika.”

Looking into the eyes of your buir, his scarred and worn face now riddled with crow’s feet from the happiness you had placed there. 

It was home. 

---

Drums beating. Heart pounding. Numerous friends and family to you and to Poe squabbling over what hairstyle you would wear. 

Today was the big day. Surprisingly you had announced it a week ago. 

After everything that had happened, when your father showed up, Poe asked right on the spot if he could marry you. Not caring that he had to prove himself in the trials of Mandalore. 

In his heart he had become one with your clan. He had become a son in your father’s eyes, another foundling that had just found his way here. 

“I know men aren’t technically allowed to be in the chamber, but I just had to meet my future daughter-in-law before the big day.” Your breath catching in your throat, your eyes met those of a man you recognised.

Although you had never met it’s like you had a scrapbook in your mind or all the stories, all the little details of what Poe’s Dad looked like. 

He was more handsome than you originally thought, but that was a given seeing as it was the exact same as when you met Poe himself. 

“Nervous?”

“Surprisingly...not at all.”

“Poe...wanted me to give you this.”

A glance of the ring gave you a flicker of a moment of self-doubt. He would never have his own Dad break things off...would he? 

“Don’t worry. It’s a family thing you know, for father’s to give away their daughter’s. I asked your mother but I had no idea that she was from the tribe of many mothers.” Giggling to yourself at that line, you realised where you had got your spirit from. 

Leia was here with her own family today, you could feel it in your bones.

“It’s sweet of you to ask at all when we have never even properly met.” 

“Ah, you’re wrong there, in a way we have. Poe told me so much about you I began to cry before the wedding even started. Good thing he told me at the bachelor party.” 

Raising an incredulous brow at him, you wondered a silent question. 

“It was just me and him for most of the night before drinks with his friends. Don’t worry, Poe’s not that kind of man.” Smiling to yourself, you knew he was right. You also knew this meant Poe had a terrible influence of friends. You loved them all. Of course Poe asked Finn to be his best man and you asked Rey to be your maid of honour.

They wanted everything to be perfect. 

Although a week made everyone go a bit stir crazy. Someone even came up with the rule that as long as we were all staying on this damn jungle planet. We might as well have a week in between each one to plan. 

You can’t remember how many bridezillas had attacked you over Poe Dameron in your dreams. 

In reality everyone was happy for you, in their minds, if they thought about it you were the perfect match for Poe in each and every way. 

Wait ‘til they found out how short the actual ceremony was. 

“Anyway, Shara, god's rest her soul, would’ve given you this if she were here, but I’m here to tell the tale so I’m giving it to you to wear on the chain she gave him when he was little.”

Feeling tears well up in sympathy for the father and son duo, you couldn’t help but ask.

“I’m getting married so I need to know. How did you ever learn to cope with the pain of losing someone that close to you?”

“Simple...I didn’t. Poe was angry for years. Not just at the world but at the system. It’s why he felt he had no choice but to become a spice runner. The system wouldn’t let him win and he was exhausted from the guilt and the grief. I couldn’t bring myself to reprimand him.” 

Remembering something your mother said to you long ago...you knew you had to tell your future father in law something that had been on the backburner for the last few days of preparation. 

“There’s one small detail in all of this that you should know Kes.”

“What’s that…”

“...I’m pregnant.”

“Goodness! How? Wait no, I know how what I meant was when?”

“About a month ago now?” It was before my parents' surprise visit and Poe dropped the bomb on everyone that he intended to marry me. 

“Let me guess, he asked for your Dad’s blessing?”

“Well...yeah.”

“Think of them as an early wedding present.”

“Thanks. Although at least this means I can get out of consummating the marriage.” Laughing nervously, Kes was about to say something else when the door creaked open once more. 

“...Wow.” 

“Hi Dad.” 

“Um..sorry but I’m guessing your Poe’s father Kes?” 

“Yeah, Heard a lot 'bout you and your daughter over the years.” 

Smiling to yourself, you let them chat as your Mother crept from behind your father’s ceremonial cape (It had a red inner lining and fur lining the top, don’t ask) She looked just as radiant as you did. 

“My daughter.” 

“Hi Mum.” 

“Did none of your friends fix up your hair?”

“We couldn’t decide on a style…”

Sadly you knew your time to prepare was drawing to a close, you needed to be as ready as you were when repairing the X-Wings.

“How about...I do your hair like my mother did for me?” 

Tearing up at the mention of your grandmother, god's rest her soul, you wished she were here to see this. 

“Please.” ---

Poe was nervous. No doubt. Finn was panicking and Rey wasn’t helping with all the screaming and waving around the chairs and tables she was doing by abusing the force just to get things done quickly. 

Today...was a mess.

But it was the best kind of mess. 

Jokingly, Finn had put a bow tie made for large Loth Cat’s around Beep’s neck. Poe had agreed that he had never looked so dapper. What they didn’t expect was your Dad’s distaste for droids and his dry humor. 

Poe knew why though, so he didn’t get angry or throw a fit like the first time you met BB8 and was scared to shit. 

It was strange that you had never met a proper droid before that day. 

And wow, now he was marrying you. Time flew, so quickly. 

To break the ice Poe had asked Din the story behind Ad’ika. In a quick attempt to get to his daughter before the ceremony took place, people filing in as he talked and avidly listening, he told the story of how he had come across the beauty that was/is your mother, how he met Ad’ika, how he had saved his life. Why Poe had discovered the secret tattoo of a mudhorn on your back. One that you had received from your Auntie Cara Dune you added fondly. 

Who he would be meeting for the first time today. 

The jungle had never looked so beautiful. You had both decided that the wedding would take place around dusk on the last night of summer, when it was not too humid and yet hot enough that the ceremonial wear had to be adapted to the heat. 

Din had graciously warned Poe about Mandolorian traditional wedding dresses and how your mother had worked night and day to make your dress perfect. Poe quickly learned that your mother was a jack of all trades. 

This was his family now. Forever and always. 

A crescendo began as the miscellaneous Mandalorians dotted around the room beat the traditional drums to a high and demanding tune, light glinting off their multi-coloured helms dancing in the setting sunlight. With the Fur pressing against Poe’s throat he had jokingly said he looked like a king. 

When Din answered back saying since he was a clan leader he technically was choked on his own spit. 

Her fiance, the love of his life, had been a princess in disguise this whole freaking time. 

It stuck in the back of his mind as the music grew too demanding, but as gasps filled the room he couldn’t help looking up. 

Your mother was walking you down the aisle, your dresses looking not so similar yet similar enough that anyone and everyone knew you were one and the same, yet different. 

But you, Gods above, you. 

You looked like a princess. 

Beskar cladded your upper arms, two feathers decorated your hair, matching braids flowing down your neck as your squeezed your mother’s arm in excitement upon spotting your future Riduur. 

You had both made it out alive. And happy. 

Not everyone had been so lucky, but you were doing this for them. To keep their memory alive. 

And as Poe attempted to make love to you that night and you jokingly told him that traditionally you can’t touch the bride for another week if she has already fallen pregnant.

Let’s just say he got a matching bruise on his head from the first time you met.

Yeah, it was a mess.

But you were both finally home.

[the-odd-job]

Harem AU Chapter 18 - Made Of

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Category: Other Fandom: Transformers Relationships: Sunstreaker & Sideswipe Characters: Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Soundwave, Shockwave, Chromia, Lancer, First Aid, Perceptor, Greenlight Additional Tags: Noncon Experimentation, Angst Words: 14547

( Previous )

Sunstreaker still had a limp the next day. It wasn’t just pain that had stolen his legs from under him—apparently Megatron had generously messed up his entire hips. Knock Out had fixed or replaced everything, but they didn’t have the time to wait for the parts to fully integrate before Hot Shot came to let them know they were wanted at the door.

They could guess what that was about.

At least Sunstreaker stayed on his pedes well enough, partially numb areas making his movement lag or not. The guards opened the doors for them, and on the other side was waiting… The same blue mech that had given them their dinner instructions. He had another smile to give them. “Good morning. Master Shockwave sent me to get you.”

As they’d guessed, then. They nodded their understanding and the mate waved them along. No guards moved to accompany them, oddly enough. Was it because the way wasn’t that long?

It didn’t seem like that was the case when they headed for the elevators instead of any of the other wings on the same floor. Sideswipe watched the number the mate picked on the lift’s control panel. They were way high up, nearly at the top of the whole damn tower.

Their destination, according to the floor the elevator was directed to go to, was far, far lower. He wasn't sure they'd ever gone that low in the tower. They'd been brought in via a rotorflier that had already landed pretty high up, and they'd only gone higher still from there.

Total opposite now. It was going to be a long ride.

And awkwardly quiet if no one said anything, in Sideswipe's opinion. Or, well, awkward for him. Sunstreaker wasn't likely to care, and he wasn't sure the other mate would either.

But in the name of not feeling so awkward himself, Sideswipe spoke up. “You’re from… Shockwave’s harem?” he asked. The blue mech had a brand on him and was clearly running around on Shockwave's business, so… 

They confirmed it. "I am. We never had proper introductions, did we? I'm Chromia." His field flared in proper greeting and Sideswipe's automatically responded to it. Sunstreaker's did too, after a moment's delay.

"You probably know our designations already," Sideswipe hazarded, a guess Chromia confirmed with a nod. He had to have asked for them specifically, anyways. Hard to do that if you didn't know who you were supposed to get.

But if they were going to have some small talk… There were things Sideswipe was curious about, and Chromia might just have some answers.

Firstly, "How high ranking is Shockwave, exactly?"

"He answers only to Lords Megatron and Soundwave," Chromia said, and it looked like this wasn't an off limits topic, because he stayed relaxed and casual. "He's Lord Megatron's Head of Scientific Research. Rather important figure, as I'm sure you can imagine."

As for his part, Sideswipe wasn't feeling very relaxed or casual when keeping in mind where they were going, but tried to pretend he was anyway. Just chit chat, that was all! And learning a bit more about Kaon's ruling class or whatever you wanted to call it while at it. That couldn't hurt. 

But. So. They were headed to get experimented on by what might be the third most powerful mech in Kaon, when they'd already established to themselves that you didn't make it to ranks like that by being nice. "What's he like? Shockwave I mean,” Sideswipe asked carefully. What kind of things could one even say about their mate? ‘Oh, they’re a total rapist and abuser, real jackass, I hate their guts’.

No one in Megatron’s harem would’ve said that. Well, aside from him and Sunstreaker. They would’ve said that.

"Hm?" Chromia looked at him, although Sideswipe wouldn't have called his expression all the way surprised.

He really wasn't sure what to call it at all, but Chromia answered him anyway, unreadable emotions or not. "He's fair, I'll give him that. Unapologetic in the pursuit of knowledge, but you don't need to worry about that. Lord Megatron doesn't allow harm to come to his mates. Master Shockwave respects that."

Out of genuine respect, or because Megatron would do something very bad to him if he broke his rules? Probably the latter.

"What do you mean, 'unapologetic'?" Sunstreaker spoke up sharply. Chromia gave him that same look that neither of them could quite name.

"He'll go as far as he needs to to get answers, when orders otherwise aren't holding him back."

Like orders would be holding him back in his and Sunstreaker's case. Hopefully. But the implications behind those words were… Heavy. Chromia didn't outright say so, but Sideswipe could imagine that as far as he needs to really did mean as far as he needs to. Ethics, morals? Damn those, most likely. It would fit the rest of the place. All the other things they’d already seen and felt them do… What was some experimentation while at it? The subjects probably didn’t consent, but consent meant jackall here.

They weren’t consenting either, but Megatron had given them up for tests and whatever else, so… That was what was going to happen. Chromia’s assurances that no harm would come to them felt thin when he fully expected that even some very unpleasant things would count as not harm.  

Then, was it too personal to ask… Sideswipe asked anyway. “How long have you been in his harem?”

Megatron’s harem didn’t talk about things like that, but then again, they hadn’t gone out of their way to ask either. They had no idea how long anyone there had been in Megatron’s clutches, or how they’d gotten caught in that net, what their life was like before… None of that. They had no idea. 

But Chromia wasn’t put off by that question either and merely chuckled. “Oh, most of my life at this point. I wasn’t that old when I fought in the Pits to prove my worth and gain the interest of the court—and succeeded! Master Shockwave chose me over all the others.”

He sounded… Proud. Really proud, but Sideswipe couldn’t get past the feeling that this didn’t quite compute.

Fought? Gain interest? Chose, like that was a… A good thing?

Sunstreaker recovered from their shock slightly faster, at least partway—enough to ask an entirely incredulous, “You… Wanted to become a mate?”

Chromia nodded, still looking all kinds of self-satisfied. “It is an honor. Not everyone wants it, understandably, but– You’re not Kaonites, are you? Here, those that desire it are given the option to try to impress the court enough to be chosen. Lord Megatron has a pair too, ah, what were their names… Runamuck and Runabout? They were quite a sight when they fought; I’m not surprised Lord Megatron himself would choose them.”

Primus. That was a hell of a lot to digest after all the slag they’d gone through and seen and heard about and… Slag. And they sure as pit hadn’t known that about Runamuck and Runabout, but that was no surprise since they didn’t know that much about anyone. 

Sideswipe released a ventilation he hadn’t realized he was holding, leaning against the wall of the elevator. He felt a little woozy right there. This, the information that some came to this life willingly and even thought of it as a good thing, an honor as Chromia put it… It went against everything they felt. This was hell to them. There was nothing good about any of it.

And some fought to get to their garbage standing. 

But not everyone. “Why doesn’t everyone want it?” Sideswipe had to ask, not particularly fond of the way his voice was caught somewhere between a squeak and a wheeze, but at least his vocalizer worked. That was something.

“It’s a sacrifice,” Chromia shrugged. “You give up a lot of your freedoms and lay your future in the hands of another. It’s not a choice that should be made lightly.

“But many consider the tradeoff worth it. You get to be so close to our leaders, to serve Kaon in such a way, maybe make yourself more useful than you would’ve been otherwise. And obviously, the surroundings you’re given are very lavish and comfortable. There isn’t a hell of a lot to complain about, at the end of the day.”

Not a lot to complain about.

Right on the heels of admitting that even those that took the role willingly lost their freedom, as if Runamuck and Runabout weren’t enough proof of that. They had never suspected there was anything different about them, because they didn’t get treated any differently. They were as stuck in the harem wing as everyone else. They didn’t have magical rights to leave at will.

But… What? It was worth it because they got to be Megatron’s berth toys and ‘serve Kaon’ through their servitude to its sovereign leader?

If that was the logic, then the other set of twins was probably even more honored than Chromia. Chromia only belonged to the third most powerful mech, whereas Runamuck and Runabout belonged to the most powerful. 

It was so messed up.

Arguing probably wouldn’t have worked any better than it did with Megatron’s mates, though. If outlanders, those that had clearly come from outside of Kaon, bought into this bullshit, then how much more were natives going to do the same? They were raised here, into this culture of… What was it? Extreme nationalism or something? If it was drilled into them from the moment they were activated, how was Sideswipe going to change their mind in the duration of one elevator ride?

“How often do those fights take place?” Sunstreaker asked, his voice tight.

“Rarely, sadly. The court does try to keep the sizes of their harems manageable, and that won’t work if they’re hoarding new mates at every turn.”

And it looked like quite a few mecha were brought from outside for some reason. Why even do that if there were willing mecha within your own city?

He asked that much, and Chromia didn’t withhold that answer either. “In part it’s kindness, to rescue mecha from Unified Cybertron into the cultural freedom of Kaon. But maybe a bit more than that, it’s… How would I put it. A delicacy for the ruling class? They have a far wider range of frame types to choose from, and there is always allure to frames you might not find in Kaon at all, or at least not often.”

Kindness.

Delicacy.

So ultimately this whole thing was just because of the arrogance and egotism of Kaon’s ruling class. It wasn’t enough to take willing mecha from within their city’s walls, they wanted the exotic goods from elsewhere too—nevermind what those goods thought about. Living mecha with wills and sparks of their own, brought here to… To… 

Slag. Slag it all.

Maybe they were better off not knowing any of this. Blissful ignorance had kept them from realizing the full extent of Kaon’s depravity, but they were quickly falling down the rabbit hole of being horrifically informed of how Kaonites thought. It didn’t look a hell of a lot like it was only the court that thought this was somehow acceptable. Was the general populace of that opinion too? Did they think being a mate was such an honor that anyone who got brought here for it should be grateful and devote their damn lives to Kaon without question?

“How many harems are there?” Sunstreaker asked while Sideswipe was still busy trying to sort his thoughts into any kind of a functional order with very little success.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever actually counted,” Chromia mused, then began to tick mecha off with his digits without actually saying anything before he’d apparently counted them all. “Nine or ten, if I remember everyone? Lord Soundwave should have one too, but he’s never taken any mates himself, for whatever reason.”

“Is that why Megatron shares… Us? With him?”

“Possibly. I won’t pretend to know their reasoning, but Lord Megatron and Lord Soundwave are good friends.”

So apparently they could build friendships too. That was almost surprising.  

“How big are the harems?” Sunstreaker, again.

“Usually around ten members, and I think there’s at least one that is over twenty mates strong. Lord Megatron’s is undoubtedly the largest, though, as is fitting for a mech of his standing.”

Several times the size of his subordinates’ harems, in other words. What greed.

The elevator stopped, effectively cutting their bit of interrogation short. Chromia, still, didn’t look at all perturbed by all of their questions, just gestured them along when the doors opened to a hallway that didn’t look that different from any of the other hallways they’d seen. They took a couple of turns until they came to double doors similar to what led to the wings located on the harem’s floor. There were guards here too, like there were everywhere, but the doors opened on Chromias approach and in they went.

At first it didn’t look so different and he wondered just where Shockwave was going to do their testing, but then they went through another set of doors, and suddenly there were hallways and doors all over the place leading to who knew where. Maybe just rooms, maybe other, closed off hallways. They took two ramps down, then through big doors, again, and he was getting kind of lost already.

But Chromia walked ahead of them with confidence, so they followed and tried not to worry about it too much. 

More smaller doors and corridors, up until they stopped in front of one specific door that, to Sideswipe, didn’t look any different from all the others. Chromia pinged for entrance, and with minimal delay the door slid out of their way. They followed the blue mech into the room, although they didn’t follow in the short bow Chromia gave to… Shockwave.

Shockwave was looking at them. “Here they are, master,” Chromia said.

The apparent scientist only responded with, “Dismissed,” and at once their guide took his leave. The door closed behind him, and there they were. In a room. With the very creepy Shockwave. The door probably wouldn’t open for them even if they tried to get out.

“First Aid,” Shockwave called without actually raising his voice, and a mech they hadn’t noticed set something down on the other side of the room before scurrying over. They could just catch a glimpse of a brand on his shoulder. Another of Shockwave’s mates, then, which… Was a little weird. Were they working together?

“Yes, master?” First Aid asked once he got closer, and pits but it grated to hear the title at every turn. They were clearly too used to the casual air in Megatron’s harem, at least when the tyrant wasn’t present. Even Megatron’s mates spoke in a more respectful manner around him. Yes, my Lord; of course, master—the works.

It didn’t look to be so different with Shockwave, in that aspect.

“Get them ready,” was the instruction Shockwave said before he turned away. First Aid voiced his understanding, then waved the twins forward.

To the center of the room, where there were two berths, currently pushed together to form one larger slab. The lights in the ceiling above it were too bright for comfort, and Sideswipe couldn’t even begin to name the contraptions that circled around the lights, ready to be pulled down for use. “If you’d lay down and open your chestplates, please,” First Aid requested once they got next to the berths.

Righty! Apparently there was going to be no warmup whatsoever. “Not even a single date first?” Sideswipe said, and it was such a weak joke and his obvious nervousness only made it weaker, but First Aid nevertheless snorted before quickly smoothing his field. Sideswipe could imagine the same happened to his face, if he had one, but once again there was both a mask and a visor in use. It was impossible to tell what was behind them. 

Sunstreaker reached to squeeze his arm before his brother hopped onto one of the berths. Sideswipe followed, and only after they were both sitting on their respective berths did they lay down fully.

“Open your chestplates and bare your sparks, please,” First Aid repeated when they didn’t do that right away. Sunstreaker bit his denta together so hard his jaw ached and Sideswipe gnawed on his bottom lip until he was sure to leave marks–

But after a few more moments of hesitation, they both initiated the transformation in their chassis—their chestplates pushed apart, then their internals moved out of the way, and even more reluctantly their spark chambers pushed forward, until those too opened to let their sparklight through.

“Thank you,” was all First Aid said, looking back in Shockwave’s direction. They didn’t know what the scientist was doing, but fraggit, could he hurry up with it. It wasn’t exactly pleasant to lay around with their spark in plain view, even if there were only two other mecha present to see.

Two mecha too many.  

Luckily Shockwave didn’t take that long before he came over, pulling along a cart with more… Things on it. Probably some science thingies, but they wouldn’t know one whit about that sort of stuff. 

“Don’t close your chestplates,” Shockwave ordered them, and Sideswipe had just the time to worry why he saw fit to say that much–

And then Shockwave had already brought a fancy looking vernier right up to his spark, and by the pits his first instinct was to slam his chestplates right back shut alright. There wasn’t even a warning! Unless the order was the warning. It was a crappy warning if that was the case.

Instead of trying to close his chestplates, though, Sideswipe tried to sit up instead, not because he was really thinking clearly, but just because it wasn’t cool to have something so close to his spark–

But First Aid caught him by the shoulders before he could get anywhere and pressed him back down with surprising strength. 

“Stay still,” Shockwave said, staring at him with that one lonely optic. “You will be restrained if you don’t cooperate.”

...Right. Okay. So. Reminder. There was no saying no to any of this, and honestly he was getting pretty damn worried here–

But Sideswipe bit his lip harder and nodded his understanding even as Sunstreaker growled deep from his frame. 

Shockwave stared at him for a few more seconds before he repeated his original motion and… Brought the measuring tool to his spark. Then he tightened it until it was just on this side if uncomfortable, stopping only when Sideswipe hissed at the near pain.

But he got the diameter as far as Sideswipe could tell, and seemed satisfied with that. He left Sideswipe and his half of their spark alone and went to do the same to Sunstreaker, and Sunstreaker growled some more but didn’t put up a fight. There was exactly nothing they could do whether or not they were tied down, but they’d still rather have even the illusion of being able to protect themselves. 

Better behave, then.

Scanners came next, a whole assortment of them. Some worked from a distance, others were pushed right up to their spark, and it was a fight and a half to not try to stop the process at every turn. It wasn’t fun. It wasn’t comfortable. Their instincts were screaming at them about protecting their core and lifeforce and they felt really damn naked keeping their sparks bared like that, but Shockwave undoubtedly had Megatron’s authority behind him.

And he would force them if they didn’t submit willingly.

So they tried. And succeeded, mostly, only earning themselves a couple of warnings when they jerked or flinched when they shouldn’t have. 

First Aid jacked into their medical ports on Shockwave’s order and took some more readings with their frames’ built-in scanners and diagnostics systems, and rooted around in general. He seemed to know what he was doing, at least, although Sideswipe worried over the amount of data he downloaded from each of them. The pit was he going to need all of that for? Or what was Shockwave going to need it for, rather?

They didn’t ask. Shockwave didn’t seem the chatty type. He sure as pit didn’t tell what he was doing or going to do any step of the way. It would’ve been really nice if he had, but they kept their silence the same Shockwave kept his.

Sunstreaker snarled even harder when Shockwave had taken an ungodly amount of readings out of them and then… “Merge.”

They really should’ve expected this too. And had, honestly.

Didn’t make them any more happy about it.

First Aid stayed connected to their ports and that didn’t help make things feel any less awkward, nor did the fact Shockwave had all of his scanners ready to record the whole damn process, but all the same Sunstreaker rolled over to be atop Sideswipe. He only barely even made it to straddling his thighs before their spark halves already surged from their chambers, meeting between their frames and merging in midair, as per usual—the scant few times they’d had the chance to do this.

The world imploded.

It was fucking heaven. He always forgot what it felt like, and then he wondered how could he ever forget. When the physical separation between their spark halves was removed, so was… Everything. It all stopped mattering, everything their frames had ever gone through—inconsequential.

All there was was the unity and the rightness of being together in the way they were supposed to be, but weren’t allowed to be, not even just temporarily—too risky, not safe enough, always someone who could hurt.

It was that thought that made them attach to the physical world a bit better, now. Sunstreaker’s frame had entirely collapsed on Sideswipe’s, all sense removed from their physical shackles for precious moments. It left their spark mostly protected, at the very least, out of sight aside from the light that bled from the gaps between their frames.

Sunstreaker lifted himself laboriously, just enough that he could look Sideswipe in the optic—rest their forehelms together. It didn’t matter that the circumstances of this were… Less than ideal.

What mattered was doing it. Fuck everyone else when they could have this. Their spark pulsed, whole, comfortable, full, swirling into itself and blending together until there was no end to him and no beginning to Sunstreaker.

They just were.

He just was.

Shockwave still didn’t say anything, but they could feel the intrigue in First Aid’s field. Split-sparks were rare, weren’t they? Mech had probably never seen this before. Had Shockwave either? They didn’t know. 

More scans, more diagnostics, more of everything, but it didn’t matter. They basked in being what they were supposed to be, and it didn’t matter. Maybe they were too compliant right then, too withdrawn, too careless, and maybe this was why they barely ever merged–

But in the moment, it was all the same as long as their spark was whole.

“Can you overload?” Shockwave asked after a while of observing them. They both shook their helms, not quite finding the will to speak—but it was a simple answer to a simple question, wasn’t?

Could they overload their spark like this?

No. Of course not, where would they have even found the energy for that from? Did the whole sparked walk around overloading all the damn time? No? Then neither would they.

First Aid logged and downloaded those thoughts, and those were some high level privileges he’d given himself in their systems.

They didn’t quite find it in themselves to care.

“Pull partway apart,” Shockwave ordered them next, and they did only because they knew nothing would come of it—that their halves wouldn’t part from that. Sunstreaker pushed himself up on his arms, but their spark remained merged, suspended in the halfway point between their chambers. Only tendrils connected it to either frame, once Sunstreaker lifted himself high enough.

Tendrils that weren’t enough life for their frames. Grey began to form at their extremities and creeped towards their core slowly. First Aid outright gasped in surprise—had they never seen that before, either?—but they weren’t dying, no matter what their frames thought. And really, what were their frames supposed to think when they could register the spark weakening? It was only their link to the spark, not the spark itself, but their bodies didn’t differentiate between those two.

Sideswipe grinned all of a sudden, full of mischief. “Watch this,” and he brought his servo between their spark and its connection to Sunstreaker’s chamber.

The tendrils were severed entirely and Sideswipe heaved his brother’s frame to the side before it could fall back over him—his brother’s frame that was, now, fully grey. Without a spark signature, or indeed, a spark.

Dead, for all intents and purposes.

First Aid’s field was full of a mix of shock, horror, and surprise, though he didn’t say anything and didn’t disconnect from them. Sideswipe giggled even as their spark sank into his chamber, larger than before and fitting in so snugly. He would’ve closed his chestplates out of reflex too, if Shockwave hadn’t chosen that moment to start poking around his core again.

This time… He was floating, a little bit, or so it felt like. Light. Right. 

He didn’t really care that Shockwave repeated the whole entire process he’d already put their spark halves through, but now with their spark fully merged. So many scans and physical measurements and who knew what else.

But he was floating. Happy.

When was the last time he’d been happy?

Shockwave did step back eventually and Sideswipe very lazily turned his helm to look at him. “How do you separate?” the scientist or whatever asked, and Sideswipe focused on his frame enough to remember all of its parts.

Stupid, stupid frame that usually acted as a physical barrier between himself and himself.  

Was he supposed to step back to that reality again?

He didn’t really want to.

...But some part of him reminded him it’d be best to follow the instructions they were given, and answer the questions. “Like… Oof. Like this,” Sideswipe managed to click, turning over and taking his turn to straddle his other frame. Grey frame. 

It wasn’t nearly as upsetting as it should’ve been. Why would he be upset? He was just about to resurrect it. Sideswipe sat on Sunstreaker’s thighs, leaned over him, and carefully brought his arms between their frames to pull his spark from his chassis, though not so far he would’ve had the whole nearing so-called death, going grey thing happen. 

Then he sank his claws into it, all of them—caged portions of it into each of his servos–

And began to pull it apart.

It put up a fight, it did every time, but with a bit of patience and care he managed to separate it into two clear portions that pulsed brightly, but were half the size they had been together. One he pushed back into his own chassis, the other he directed into Sunstreaker’s. It hesitated for a second or two before connecting to Sunstreaker frame with an audible crackle and snap, followed by a clang as Sunstreaker’s chestplates automatically closed around it without any conscious thought on his part. Sideswipe barely pulled his digits free in time. 

Color returned to his brother and Sideswipe smiled a satisfied smile even as the gape between them began to yawn again, larger, more uncomfortable by the second.

Not right.

But it was how they lived. One spark in two places at once, directing two separate frames. That was all.

“Move aside, Sideswipe. Sunstreaker, bare your spark,” Shockwave ordered them both once Sunstreaker’s optics had lit up with clarity. Unease was weaving into them and quickly so, but Sideswipe still felt a bit languid when he rolled off of Sunstreaker and back onto the other berth. Sunstreaker was reluctant, but opened his chest back up—not that he even remembered closing it.

And again there was the whole hullabaloo of taking all the readings. That was getting old and tiresome fast, but Sideswipe feared they’d have to bear similar boredom several times still, before Shockwave was through with them.

They laid around all the same, trying to pass the time mostly by focusing on what First Aid was doing in their helms. Unfortunately it wasn’t anything he wouldn’t have already done though, either.

Shockwave only spoke up once he was done and set all of his instruments aside. “How do you know which half belongs to which frame?”

That was… A question. “We… Don’t?” Sideswipe ventured, but it was Sunstreaker who provided the more informative answer.

“Our spark’s one and the same no matter what. It’s the frames that call forth different aspects of it—personalities, if you want to call them that.”

Shockwave seemed to think on it for a moment, then nodded. “Close your chestplates. First Aid, show them to their quarters. Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Lancer will interview you later.”

First Aid disconnected from them and handed Shockwave something, probably all the stuff he’d downloaded, before the scientist left entirely. Off to do some sciency stuff with all the sciency stuff he’d managed to pull from them, maybe? Or something.

They wanted to start splitting sparks, huh? That didn’t seem healthy. He had to wonder how many unfortunate test subjects that attempt was going to take.

...Best to not think about it too hard.

“Follow me, please,” First Aid requested once they’d both safely closed their chassis and gotten off the berths. 

So they did. There were more doors and hallways, although they didn’t go far this time before First Aid stopped at a door and opened it without going in himself. He gestured for them to do so instead. They did that too.

The room wasn’t big and it was impossibly spartan, but there was a berth big enough for the both of them, a desk with a chair, and some shelving that was entirely empty. 

And that was it. There was nothing else. 

They glanced back at First Aid when he spoke up. “For everyone’s safety, the door locks and you won’t be able to come out.” That… Wasn’t entirely surprising, although it also wasn’t particularly welcome. But what was the other option? Let them wander around? There was no way in pit anyone was going to allow that. “I’ll have Lancer bring you some entertainment once he comes to do your interview.”

“What kind of an interview is it?” Sideswipe asked before First Aid managed to close the door. It looked like he was in a bit of a hurry, but took the time to answer anyway.

“Just a questionnaire to chart… Well, everything possible about your spark condition and how it affects you. Being as thorough as you can is the most helpful.

“Lancer should be by soon. We’ll probably see later, so…” Without a proper goodbye and a bit awkwardly, First Aid closed the door. They could hear it lock, too, as he’d promised. 

And then they were alone.

The silence of the room was only broken by the sounds of their frames, and that was… Was the last time they’d had that when Megatron had separated them, taken turns leaving each of them alone in his quarters to break them?

Those times they hadn’t even had each other. This was different. They were alone in the right way, now, but that was… Weird as all pit, after spending so much time in the harem. There were always others there. Even the library wasn’t real solitude. There were sounds made by the others, their fields, energy signatures, everything their senses would constantly pick up and keep them aware of, even when they were consciously ignoring it all.

Now?

None of that.

It was just them, their one and same spark signature, the energy signatures and the functioning, lowkey whirr, hiss, rumble and whine of each of their frames, sounds changing with every motion they made, every shift of weight. But all of that was so infinitely familiar. Predictable. They knew each other inside and out—their spark, and their frames. So… It was nowhere near the same as being surrounded by the others in the harem. 

They weren’t really sure what to make of it. The kind of extreme quiet they were experiencing now they’d only experienced in Megatron’s quarters before this, and if that wasn’t a lovely way to surface some memories they weren’t particularly fond of. In the streets, even during the quietest night, you could hear distant traffic, the hum and clang of the city living around you, its systems making sounds the same any frame did. It was an eternal background noise you could never escape without four walls around you.

Right now? There were four walls around them, and they were who knew how deep into the tower, and here there wasn’t the sounds of the towers’ functions. That was probably deliberate.

They were perfectly isolated in the bright room, locked in so they couldn’t have left even if they’d wanted to, and… They sort of wanted to. There was something infinitely disquieting about the space, its almost clinical emptiness and… Lifelessness.  

Sideswipe sat down on the berth even as Sunstreaker frowned and crossed his arms, glaring at the tiny room at large. They couldn’t help but draw more comparisons to the harem wing. Say what you will about it, but it was alive, and not just because of its occupants. There was actual color, and lights placed so that they cast real shadows even as they lit anything that needed to be lit, and never leaving things so dark it would’ve been unwelcoming. There were the scents—of oil and repairs in Knock Out’s medbay, clean as the room was; the electric scent of the book files in the library, sharp and piquing; the mingling of energon and additives in the dining hall, perfect to rouse one’s appetite; solvent and so many scented products in the washracks…

And the entertainment room and berthroom, with the smells that permeated every other part of the wing too. Lubricant, transfluid, overloads. Interface. It was everywhere in the harem, for obvious reasons.

And despite that, he would’ve rather been there. There was something homey about the lush colors and intimate feel of the harem wing.

This? Despite the light colors and offensive brightness, he was mostly reminded of Megatron’s wing. Megatron’s wing had more furniture than this, but it still felt nearly as empty because of its color scheme and lack of any sort of decorations whatsoever, anywhere. 

Being reminded of Megatron’s living space wasn’t exactly welcome, either.

Here they were though, all the same. And why?

Because Megatron controlled every aspect of their life. 

Sideswipe gushed a sigh from his vents and fell onto his back on the berth. Sunstreaker finally moved to sit down next to him. 

Then there was more quiet and growing discomfort. Not physical, despite the amount of prodding and poking their spark had endured, but… Mental. Emotional.

But they could probably expect to be interrupted by their interview pretty soon. It wasn’t the best chance to try to chill out. And there might be cameras, too. That wouldn’t have surprised him.

...You know, he’d never wondered if there were some in the harem wing. It didn’t feel like a space where there would’ve been some, but maybe there were anyway.

“Wonder who Lancer is,” Sideswipe mused, just to break the silence even a little bit.

Sunstreaker, ever the best conversation partner, grunted.

“Think he’s another of Shockwave’s mates? ‘Cause First Aid was, but he was still, like… Being an assistant to Shockwave or something? In all sciency stuff?” That was weird. Really weird, when all they’d known was Megatron’s harem. Megatron only wanted interfacing out of them. Entertainment.

Were things so different for Shockwave’s harem, or what was going on? 

“We should ask, if we get the chance,” Sideswipe concluded. Theorizing with the very limited amount of information they had was hard as pit, and it would be nicer to get actual answers, anyway. Maybe Lancer would be willing to answer some questions, on top of making them answer questions?

Probably a lot of questions.

Weren’t they just real winners.

------------------------------------

Lancer was, indeed, another of Shockwave’s mates. He was chipper, but efficient, asking all the questions and recording all the answers, prompting them with more questions that didn’t seem to be on his list if their answers weren’t in depth enough. He charted everything from their experience of their activation to medical history and every last detail they could think of over how being split-spark had affected their life, positively or negatively. He didn’t overtly react to anything they said, either, but remained perfectly professional. Which was nice. It kept things from getting so awkward, despite all the stuff they told—right down to how being so connected made them react to all the rape and abuse they’d endured here.

Of course, they were careful to not state or even suggest they were still very much plotting how to leave the whole place, even as they were frank enough about their dislike over the treatment they’d endured.

“Thank you so much! This will help us a lot,” Lancer said with satisfaction once it looked like he’d bombed them with all the questions he was going to. Sideswipe already opened his mouth with questions of his own, but snapped it back shut when Lancer continued, “Oh! Before I forget…”

He subspaced the datapad he had been using, made the twins a bit envious of his ability to actually access his subspace, then proceeded to pull out other datapads that he set on the desk.

Quite a few datapads, in fact—a whole pile by the end of it. “I grabbed some movies, book files, music, and a few games and podcasts for you! I wasn’t sure what you’d like, but hopefully there’s enough variety that you’ll find at least something to your liking.”

Sideswipe blinked, but Sunstreaker remembered their manners. “Thank you.”

“It’s no bother—you’ll have to stay here a few days anyway. Need to pass the time somehow, right?” He turned to leave, but a noise for his attention from Sideswipe had him halting and looking back at them.

Sideswipe spoke quickly, before the opportunity passed them. “Could we ask a few questions?”

Lancer looked a little surprised, but then smiled with a small laugh. “Well, I did just get from questioning you real good. I think it’s fair to repay that. Okay, what would you like to know?”

Okay, wow, they actually got the chance and Lancer seemed very open to questions too. That was a little unexpected, but Sideswipe gathered his thoughts quickly. “Alright, so… You’re in Shockwave’s harem too, right?” he asked first, and continued after Lancer nodded a simple confirmation, “And so’s First Aid? But First Aid was assisting Shockwave when he was taking all sorts of readings and whatnot off of us. Is that… Normal? For the harems? For Shockwave’s harem?”

“Not really normal for the harems, no,” Lancer answered and sat back down on the desk’s chair. “But it’s normal for us—Master Shockwave’s harem, I mean. Most of us have the know-how to help him in his projects, and he makes use of that.”

Lancer really seemed as forward as Chromia. That was… Nice. As far as getting their questions answered went, anyway. “How do you have the know-how? Has he taught you?”

“He continuously teaches us, yeah, but only really those who already had a background in the sciences or medicine—so, again, most of us. Really only Chromia doesn’t.”

“...What does Chromia do, if not that? Why does Shockwave have him?”

“Chromia is kind of… Our Starscream. Starscream takes care of Lord Megatron’s harem, right? Chromia does that here. Enforces Master Shockwave’s rules and orders, makes sure everyone has what they need, runs around doing Master Shockwave’s bidding when the rest of us are busy.” Lancer laughed there. Sideswipe cracked a smile, just to hide his… Confusion? No, not really confusion. There wasn’t that much to be confused over Shockwave having someone who filled Starscream’s role in his own harem.

Disturbance, rather. They knew what Starscream was like, how… Thoroughly he devoted himself to Megatron.

And Chromia did the same with Shockwave? Even when the other mates didn’t necessarily want to cooperate otherwise? 

Like that?

But Lancer didn’t seem bitter over it, or like he thought it was a bad thing. 

“How come most of you have the kind of backgrounds Shockwave makes use of?”

“We’re not from Kaon, but we were brought here specifically because of our skills. Master Shockwave has enough rank that aside from Lords Megatron and Soundwave, he can pick anyone he wants, and… He wants those with the skills. Lord Megatron has no use for our skill sets, so I don’t know anyone from his harem who could fill our roles.”

Yeah, Megatron really had no use for that kind of stuff, did he? You didn’t need to be a scientist to learn how to suck a spike.

“Doesn’t he work with anyone science type who isn’t from his harem?”

“Oh, he does. Flatline works here full-time, as does Perceptor—and Mixmaster, Hook, and some others occasionally collaborate with him on something. But Master Shockwave finds it… More agreeable, to work with his own harem.”

“...Why?” Sideswipe asked suspiciously, although he thought he might already know the answer.

Lancer shrugged. “We belong to him, and we serve him. He ranks higher than anyone else he works with, of course, and they obey his orders too, but that’s still not the same.”

He was more equal with other free mecha, wasn’t he? Sideswipe suspected they could say no to him, rank or not.

His harem, though? Probably had no such right. Megatron’s sure didn’t, and he didn’t think Shockwave’s was that dissimilar despite his use of his mates as his assistants.

Lancer didn’t say that much, but wasn’t it sort of written between the lines, anyway?

Sideswipe did no more than nod at that.

“Was there anything else?” Lancer asked after neither of the brothers said anything for a moment. Sideswipe gave it an actual thought, but…

“Not right now, ‘least.”

“Cool. If something comes up, ask one of us, we’ll be happy to help.” With that, a smile, and a wave, Lancer took his leave.

The door locked after him. Again. Naturally. Of course.

They both sighed in the silence that was left behind, but Sideswipe plucked the topmost datapad off the pile and turned it on to see what it contained. Sunstreaker did the same with another ‘pad, and… Well. They better get good at passing the time like this, probably.

-------------------------------------------

The room had no windows, or clocks of any sort for that matter. If their chronometers hadn’t counted the day, they would’ve never known what time it was. They recharged during what would’ve been the quiet hours in the harem wing, and when no one came to interrupt them right away in the morning… Lazed around a bit. 

Hopefully whoever might come to take them for more tests would at least knock or ping first, instead of just barging in. And energon. They’d prefer fuel at some point, as much as it wasn’t strictly necessary. Yet. They probably, hopefully wouldn’t be here long enough for that to matter, but if they were hanging around for a full orn, they’d definitely have the time to get a bit uncomfortable from hunger.

They didn’t worry about that too much right in the moment, though. Sideswipe had draped himself along the full length of Sunstreaker’s side, his brother’s arm around him, tracing patterns on his armor.

Sideswipe did the same to Sunstreaker, dragging his claws along seams he knew were a bit on the sensitive side, and grinning every time he was a little too good at it and made the golden twin squirm. Sunstreaker didn’t tell him to knock it off though, or hadn’t so far.

He might at some point.

But for now he was too… Thoughtful, to really bother. And Sideswipe knew those thought tracks just as well. 

They merged so rarely. For obvious reasons, or… What had been obvious reasons. For Primus’ sake, they were guttermechs. They didn’t just have an apartment of their own that they could lock the door of and do what they willed. The best they could do was rent a room someone else would always have access to, too. 

Where were they supposed to merge? Nowhere, that’s where. 

So… They didn’t. Hadn’t. They had risked it… What, a grand total of three times in their lives, since emerging from the Well to get discarded in no time at all?

They weren’t old, but even for a short life that… Wasn’t very many merges. It wasn’t a necessity so it didn’t really matter, but pits it felt good. It was probably some sort of sucky coping mechanism to forget about the feeling after every time, because what would they have done otherwise except spend every moment of their life wishing they could do it again?

They’d done it now, and they hadn’t forgotten about it, not yet. It populated their thoughts, the… Feeling of it. 

Would they get used to it if they did it more often? Seemed likely. The whole sparked walked around the way they did all the time and nothing happened to them, but to him and Sunstreaker… It was so novel. It felt so good, was so right, fixed every problem they’d ever had, or so it felt like. It was how they were supposed to be, but how they weren’t despite it all. Was it any wonder knocking all the wrongness out of their life with just one act would be such a drastic difference that it would muddle their thoughts more than a little? That they’d want to just enjoy it, forever and ever?

Like the whole sparked got to do all the time. They took it for granted, didn’t even think about how else it could be.

Well, the twins knew how else they could be. They couldn’t take it for granted, because it wasn’t their usual state of being.

What kept them from occupying only a single frame, from being just one, in one? Was it just a habit? ‘Because that’s how it’s always been’?

Or was it an… Advantage? It never felt right, but it didn’t cripple them either. They could experience life at twice the pace everyone else could, because they were in two. Wasn’t that a good thing?

And the tradeoff was just to feel wrong on such a deep, inescapable level. 

That wasn’t so bad, was it? There were hardly any downsides… That they knew of. They had to admit they didn’t understand their spark very well. They took it at face value, but why did it do the things it did? Why could they be split, when trying to split a normal spark would only result in death? Ask anyone who had ever gotten stabbed in the spark. It didn’t tend to work out so well.

And when they pulled apart, why did their spark exchange its energy perfectly between its halves, neither bigger than the other when they separated? How the pit did it know to do that when there was no… Rift between them, when they were merged? It was just one whole spark with the ability to split for whatever reason, but the re-splitting was always a pretty crude process and still it always worked out.

That wasn’t even getting into their exchange of emotion and thought—or “thought”, rather. Emotion came through raw and unfiltered, but it was never words, never sounds, never perfect images that their spark was made of. Just… A mess. Shapes, textures, color, but they all came together to mean something, if you knew how to interpret it. Put it together. Translate it into something the frame could understand. Their spark was never confused by itself.

It was just the frame that didn’t always keep up with everything. 

They were pretty good at that, and they could also do the most important: segregate. Synchronization came naturally to them, but what they needed to do to function was to… Split their thoughts as their spark was split: one set of thoughts for the frame that was Sideswipe, another for the one that was Sunstreaker. They needed to function separately, steer their frames separately, divide themselves, sometimes to the point they became near senseless to one another–

And that went against their very being, but they had to do it. It was a skill. It had taken practice.

They didn’t usually think about any of this, honestly. It wasn’t important, it wasn’t relevant. What mattered was that they made it work.

But after trying to describe the whole mess to Lancer in as much detail and with as little confusion as they could manage, it was hard to not consider it all—wonder if it mattered anyway. They had no idea.

All they knew was that merging was… Better than any drug in the world, and they’d tried quite a few out of curiosity. 

And they weren’t on the streets anymore. They were never really alone either, aside from right now, but the other mates weren’t exactly… Threats? Were they? They had never actively tried to hurt them.

Could they even consider doing it again sometime, while they were still here? Because they’d be right back to the streets after they got out, and then they’d again be without the chances to do it.

So many thoughts. They should probably stop before their processors started steaming. Sunstreaker glanced at him at that, cocking one of his optical ridges at him and– Primus, he was just pretty. Beautiful. From helm to pede, their commissioners had done at least that right and given him all the looks in the world.

His optical ridges too. Their arch was just… Elegant, and Sideswipe knew that came without trying. 

Sunstreaker’s amusement turned into an outright, huffed laugh when he stared for too long.

Frag it.

Sideswipe lifted himself, just enough that he could silence it by pressing their mouths together—no grace, just want. Sunstreaker returned the kiss with quite a bit more thought behind it, and Sideswipe happily let him take the lead, melting a bit further against that lovely frame.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, you know,” Sunstreaker muttered against his mouth. Sideswipe could feel his grin.

It was his turn to laugh, just a little. “I know.” They were quite a pair, weren’t they? 

At least this much Megatron would never take from them—their self-centered love, devotion. There was no tarnishing it, even if he took everything else. 

They enjoyed each other for a time, cuddling and making out, lazy and without rush. Not that they couldn’t have done this in the harem, but there was always so much going on there, and that wasn’t even going into the fact there was no real privacy to be found anywhere in the harem wing.

Chances were they’d still have the time to get hella bored here even with the entertainment they were provided, but for now they were going to enjoy it.

They did the entire morning. Only a ping at the door interrupted them when it was starting to tip into the day proper. They untangled themselves at the interruption, and were sitting side by side on the berth by the time the door opened after a polite delay. 

First Aid stood on the other side, two cubes held in his servos. “Hope you slept well and have gotten the time to pass. Did Lancer– Oh, I see he did.” He was probably referring to all the datapads; at least those were what he was looking at. 

“He brought us stuff, yeah,” Sideswipe confirmed with a wry grin. First Aid’s field flared with something akin to a smile. He moved into the room just enough to place the cubes on the desk before returning to the doorframe.

It looked like he was going to leave, too, but Sideswipe interrupted that process with a, “Hey.” First Aid looked at him in askance, and out of the mates they’d met he seemed the least inclined to start answering any amount of questions, so Sideswipe kept it short. “When will there be more… Tests?”

“Probably not today. Tomorrow at earliest, I think,” First Aid answered, and… That was kind of surprising? But he also explained the reason for it quickly enough. “There’s a lot of data Master Shockwave wants to comb through before he does anything else. Your spark is very unusual.”

Well. At least they were entertaining some scientist with their existence. Could be worse?

Sideswipe nodded and when they asked nothing else, First Aid bid them goodbye and left. They took the cubes they’d been brought and went to enjoy them. It wasn’t anything fancy, just basic midgrade, but that didn’t make it any less delicious.

And it looked like they wouldn’t have to worry about hunger, at least.

As First Aid had guessed, nothing happened for the rest of the day. Sunstreaker went through the datapads for things to read or listen to, Sideswipe grabbed the couple of them with games on them. They were the same games as in the harem, but he had his saves in his own systems, so it wasn’t a big thing to plug into the datapad and continue playing where he’d left off back there. 

It wasn’t the most interesting day ever. The harem was… A prison. There was no getting around the fact there wasn’t really anything physical to do, aside from ‘facing. And oh boy did the other mates ‘face a lot. Sideswipe had to wonder if some of that was just to try to make up for the lack of any other exerting activities, on top of being prompted by the protocols corrupted by the infernal transmission. 

He and Sunstreaker had put up with it so far because, you know, they didn’t exactly have any other option. They couldn’t just leave to go on drives or whatever. It worked in their favor that they had never had the ability to be as active as they would’ve liked. For the duration of their life, up until coming here, conserving energon had been a necessity. Technically they could have done whatever they wanted to, driven as far as they’d liked to–

But the practice was quite different. 

Now they would’ve had the energy, but not the freedom. That sure got flipped around a bit. 

But so there weren’t any past habits of long drives that they would’ve missed, for as many things there were that they did miss.

And some came here willingly? 

Frag.

Yeah, no, he wasn’t going to get over that anytime soon, especially after what he’d seen at the dinner—though to be fair he didn’t think he’d get over any of the shit that happened here anytime soon. But there was… Something. Their first time here, their whole initiation? Had been awful in so many ways.

But it was just that one time. They’d had some shit thrown at them since then too, mildly put, but they hadn’t gotten gang raped with that level of brutality since.

And the public servants? It looked a lot like brutal gang rape was their entire existence. He didn’t know where they lived, or were stored, what their downtime was like, but slag… He couldn’t imagine there was anything to want in that life. They looked to be halfway to the scrapyard already, on the inside. If he had to make a guess, they probably wished they could’ve gone the rest of the way.

He thought he would’ve, in their place. All the things Megatron had done to them and had made others do to them… It wasn’t those levels of bad. Maybe there was an instance here or there that compared, but it wasn’t continuous. That made the difference. 

Instances like Sunstreaker’s little outburst. Megatron knew how to damage a frame. Getting just beaten would’ve been one thing. Unpleasant and it would’ve hurt too, but it was so outlandish to mutilate a frame with nothing but a spike. Who else could do that but Megatron?

It was just… A more intimate sort of way to punish someone—taking something that was usually done for fun and affection, and using it as a weapon instead.

Violent.

Sunstreaker hardly even ached anymore. The physical signs of the whole incident were all but gone, even at the places where Knock Out hadn’t replaced the parts, only fixed them instead. 

But on the inside? His brother was tough, but Megatron was an enemy like nothing they’d faced before. Time and time again they could not win, not even in a small way, and if they stepped out of line… They were returned to it with devastating certainty.

Would Sunstreaker throw a drink at someone again? Was it worth it?

----------------------------------------

It was near the midday of the next day that there was a ping at their door again. Sideswipe paused and saved his game and Sunstreaker set down the bookfile he’d been perusing, seconds before the door opened to reveal Lancer.

He smiled and waved. “Master Shockwave has some more tests he’d like to run. If you’d come with me.”

Of course there was nothing about were they fine with this, or if they agreed to having more tests done on them.

They weren’t and they wouldn’t have, but you know.

They placed their datapads on the desk before following Lancer out of their temporary quarters and back into the same room from before, with its berths and contraptions. “Dismissed,” Shockwave said to Lancer once they were safely deposited in the room, and so he left.

Leaving them with Shockwave and… There was another mech present too. Red, but even searching, they couldn’t see a brand on him. 

He didn’t look like Kaonite though, not one bit. 

“On the berth,” Shockwave ordered them and they walked a couple of steps ahead of him to do so. Whatever cart the scientist had with him had more things on it, some that they could recognize from last time.

Was this going to be as boring?

Would they get to merge again?

“Perceptor.” With just one word from Shockwave, the red mech came over, although there wasn’t the same… Haste in his motions, as Shockwave’s mates had when they hurried to follow his orders.

There was something different about him in general, although they couldn’t place it. He was nervous though. Not overtly so, but it was still in his field. 

“Yes, hello, we haven’t met yet. I’m Perceptor, and I’ll be assisting Shockw–”

“Lay down,” Shockwave entirely interrupted his colleague—were they colleagues?—to order him and Sunstreaker around instead. But at least this much had already happened, so despite their very extant reservations, they laid down.

“Bare your sparks,” was the next thing, and they did that too, reluctant or not. Shockwave pushed and pulled some of the things hanging from the ceiling around, bringing some lower. Sideswipe would’ve guessed it was a scanner of some sort that he positioned around Sunstreaker’s spark, his brother watching the process with so much distrust.

But if they didn’t cooperate, they’d be made to cooperate anyway, so. He’d still rather go unrestrained.

Perceptor did what First Aid had done and jacked into their medical ports to bring up their internal scans and spark readings. One educated guess, they were going to do something to their spark.

And they probably wouldn’t like it.

The scanner thingy was secured directly against Sunstreaker’s chestplates before Shockwave pulled a different device down and aimed that at Sideswipe’s spark-half. It spun just that much more wildly in its casing as his concern grew. It would’ve been great if Shockwave had even told them what he was doing, but of course he couldn’t be bothered with that much.

Perceptor probably noticed that thought with the privileges he’d granted himself in their systems, because he took that role instead. “We’re going to feed some dead energy into your spark to–”

He didn’t get further than that before Shockwave cut him off with a, “Stay still.”

“What do you mean dead energy–?!” Sideswipe tried to demand in full alarm, but he couldn’t get further than that before Shockwave activated the device directly above his half of their spark. It came to life to shoot pure electricity into his spark, or at least Sideswipe thought it might’ve been electricity, it sure was something–

But that wasn’t what he could focus on.

There was just the pain.

It burned and he could scarcely even hear his own scream as his very core lit up with agony, and pain of the frame was one thing–

But this was so much more than that. It was his very being that hurt, that cut straight into his emotions, the well of his thoughts, his life–

His back arched off the berth, and bringing his spark closer to the device didn’t help at all, but he didn’t know what to do, couldn’t do anything with the–

And then it ended.

Sort of.

Sideswipe collapsed back onto the berth when their respective devices powered down and were moved away from them both, sobbing—from relief, and from pain, because his spark wouldn’t stop hurting and feeling like it was going to tear itself into so many pieces until there’d be nothing but shreds left–

He was barely aware Sunstreaker was gasping, feeling all the same he was, that it tore at the both of them, their one–

“Merge.”

They focused enough to make sense of Shockwave. There was no inflection to the order.

Sideswipe shook his helm, crying. Their spark felt so raw and adding more energy into the play, even if it was just his own, was the last thing he wanted to do–

“Your spark is destabilizing. You’re dying. Merge,” Shockwave said, sounding absolutely uncaring as he stared at one of the screens that might’ve had their spark readings or something, Sideswipe didn’t know.

Perceptor’s field had flushed with very real anxiety and concern where Shockwave had none to give, but at least the unfeeling scientist’s words were enough to provide some… Motivation. Sideswipe looked to the side but Sunstreaker was staring resolutely at the lights above, trying to survive the agony in their lifeforce—and presumably doomed to fail at that, if they didn’t merge. 

So this was what dying felt like, huh? He could’ve gone without the experience.

But he didn’t want to die. There were still things to live for, and this was an out he didn’t want to take.

He rolled onto his front and heaved himself up, gritting his denta the whole way. It wasn’t his frame that hurt, his frame functioned perfectly, but the pain still threatened to cripple him. His spark throbbed so unevenly, its pulses and rotation stuttering in a way he had never experienced before. It distracted him from the physical world something fierce–

But they were probably on a bit of a timer. He had no idea how long it’d take for a spark to destabilize completely, and how long it would take their spark.

Would merging even fix it, or was Shockwave just grasping at straws? Who the fuck knew. It was sort of their only shot though, wasn’t it?

Sunstreaker reached an arm to help pull him over and Sideswipe barely waited until their chests were even half aligned before he collapsed over his twin. Their halves surged to meet each other before he was even all the way down, wove together, became one, seamless, and…

The pain receded.

They were both shaking, their vents barely functioning, but the tearing stopped. Sideswipe let his forehelm fall against Sunstreaker’s shoulder, feeling the ache in their spark even as things… Evened out. Calmed down.

And they, presumably, stopped dying so actively.

“The pit,” Sideswipe gasped, “was that?” He lifted his helm enough to glare at both Perceptor and Shockwave, as much as he expected Shockwave wouldn’t give a damn.

Perceptor looked apologetic, at least. “The energy approximates a spark merge without the risk of actually bonding two sparks and tests your spark’s response to it. Your reaction was entirely unexpected, I assure you; all sparks respond a little differently, but this?”

Right. So nearly killing them wasn’t the plan. That would’ve sort of gone against Megatron’s orders anyway.

Had to wonder how much trouble Shockwave would’ve been in if they had died.

“Pull back.” Was there no end to the orders? And what was this one for?

That. Shockwave was pulling the same zappy device towards them. Was he seriously trying to kill them?

“No!” Sideswipe said instantly, like any smart person with a sense of self-preservation would’ve, and flattened himself further across Sunstreaker. Sunstreaker was growling, hard, his glare beyond vicious.

“Pull back,” Shockwave repeated, still sounding so utterly indifferent. Like he didn’t really care about any of this, about their resistance or their potential death or… Pit, anything.

“Go frag yourself,” Sideswipe snarled.

Defiance. When had that ever worked?

They were locked in a bit of a staring contest before one of the doors into the room opened to admit Lancer and another of Shockwave’s mates they hadn’t seen before. All Shockwave did was nod at the twins, and at once the mates came over—but what for? They couldn’t possibly have strength on him and Sunstreaker, being smaller, slimmer. 

It turned out they didn’t need strength, just speed and deftness, and that they had in spades. “Hey–!” but true to form, no one listened to him. The nameless mate had reached and grabbed his arm before he knew it, and he didn’t have the time to even jerk away before one of his ports had gotten uncovered.

And suddenly Shockwave was there and plugged right in, and pits, his presence in his systems. Shockwave used direct overrides to access exactly what he wanted to access, no detours taken, and–

Severed Sideswipe’s motor controls.

All of them.

His frame immediately fell limp and Sunstreaker started cussing for the both of them, and that was where all of their cooperation ended.

It didn’t matter. Lancer and the other one were fast to grab each of Sunstreaker’s limbs and securely tie them to the berth, as if they’d done this plenty of times before, and once that was done… They, together, lifted Sideswipe’s strutless frame. Shockwave stepped over again and reached between them, doing what they’d done the other day—put his servo between their spark and Sideswipe’s frame, forcing it to disconnect and retreat into Sunstreaker’s chassis only.

Sideswipe’s grey frame was pushed aside, unnecessary.

Sunstreaker snarled and tested the bonds, but they looked to be designed to hold mecha far larger and stronger than him and he got exactly nowhere no matter how he struggled. Shockwave? Had no reactions to give to any of it. Neither did Lancer and the other mate. There was that focus in their fields again, like Chromia had had at the dinner, like… Pits, he didn’t know what to make of it. Were they so task-oriented? How? Why?

Perceptor though, he was different. He was alarmed.

“Get that thing away from me,” Sunstreaker growled when Shockwave unerringly brought the device towards him, clearly intent on trying the whole thing all over again. For what? Did he expect a different outcome, or did he just want to kill them? If merging had saved them, what were they supposed to do when they were already merged?

“Maybe we shouldn’t–” Perceptor tried to say, hovering over them, but once again, he didn’t get to finish.

“Record,” was all Shockwave said, staring directly at Perceptor.

“This isn’t–” Perceptor tried again.

Again Shockwave interrupted him. “Greenlight.”

The other mate, apparently named Greenlight, immediately stepped up, shooed Perceptor away and replaced Perceptor’s jack in Sunstreaker’s medical port with his own. Once he made sure everything relevant was in his reach and available, he nodded at Shockwave.

Impassive, Shockwave brought the device and a scanner to his spark no matter Sunstreaker’s vitriol, and… Activated it all over again.

Sunstreaker grunted when the energy again shot against their spark, and though he feared the worst… That didn’t come to pass. Oh, it wasn’t comfortable and his spark rebelled against the lifeless energy even as it couldn’t escape it–

But there wasn’t the agony. Just discomfort.

Nothing more.

And although Perceptor hadn’t seemed to entirely approve of the whole thing, he now breathed, “Fascinating,” earning a vicious glare from Sunstreaker. It entirely remained that he wasn’t agreeing to any of this, and even when it had looked like Perceptor might care about details like that, clearly his scientific curiosity was winning over. 

It was Sunstreaker’s turn to strongly disapprove. 

“Yeah, great, you didn’t nearly kill us this time,” he growled, venting a sigh of relief when Shockwave turned the zapper off and pushed it aside. 

“Indeed!” Perceptor said, apparently completely missing Sunstreaker’s sarcasm as he hurried over to one of the screens with some readings on it. Sunstreaker couldn’t understand them, but Perceptor sure looked excited. “Your spark’s negative reaction to dead energy when split… Has that ever been recorded before, Shockwave, do you know? But to get a near opposite reaction when you’re merged! I hypothesize that trying to merge with another spark separately would kill you, although we need to go over these readings to find out the reason why—but equally it looks like your spark’s reaction falls into perfectly normal ranges when merged–”

He prattled on further but Sunstreaker tuned that out, judging Shockwave to be a greater concern when the scientist brought more measuring devices of various sorts to their spark and took whatever readings. Many, many more readings. Lancer and Greenlight lingered too, following Shockwave’s instructions to the letter without hesitation even as Perceptor seemed fully distracted by the screens—and was he still ranting? Primus.

The rest had already happened, but when Shockwave took something small, small enough to fit into his spark chamber, and tried to insert it there, Sunstreaker rebelled.

Or tried to, very unsuccessfully seeing he was tied down and whatnot. “The pit is that?” he demanded, but no amount of tugging or squirming would discourage Shockwave.

At least he got an answer out of the mech, for once. “A monitor.”

Just not a very useful answer. Monitor for what?

When he asked this time, no one responded. The little thing was installed into his spark chamber, and then the same was done to Sideswipe’s frame on top having his motor controls reestablished.

Once that was done, they untied him. “Split,” Shockwave ordered him.

Sunstreaker snarled. “No.” Mostly for the sake of it, honestly; he wouldn’t have had anything against having his second frame functional right then.

“Split, or you will be split,” Shockwave said. An ultimatum, huh? So which would be rather have, doing the whole damn thing himself when he at least had some experience at it no matter how inelegant they made it–

Or have someone who had most likely never successfully split a spark do it for him?

Did he really want to have his spark prodded at even more? 

No, he’d rather avoid what he could. Sunstreaker glared, but nevertheless moved over to Sideswipe, straddling his brother’s frame and pulling their spark apart until he had one half to push into the grey frame, the other to keep to himself.

Sideswipe’s chestplates slammed shut before life properly returned to him, and when he onlined good and proper, it was with a growl. Not like he had forgotten what had happened.

Shockwave didn’t seem to care at all. “Lancer, return them to their quarters,” was all he said before he accepted their data from Greenlight and left.

Sideswipe wiped at the tear stains on his cheeks before they both got off the berth and, without a fight, followed Lancer. That… Hadn’t been so mighty pleasant. They’d gotten to merge, sure, but pits, they hadn’t wanted it to be because of something like that.

At least it sort of confirmed their theory that they could function pretty normally even when merged. They hadn’t gotten distracted this time like they had before, though hopefully it wouldn’t need to be just situations that registered as highly dangerous that would manage that. 

And they still had however many days of this?

Pits.

“What’s the monitors for?” Sideswipe asked once they were at their door.

“Your spark had a pretty extreme reaction to the fake merge,” Lancer answered as he opened the door and they went inside. “It seems to be fine now, but it’s better to keep an eye on it to make sure it doesn’t destabilize again.”

Was he sulking? Sideswipe was definitely sulking, and he didn’t even feel like trying to pretend otherwise. “Yeah, Megatron would probably be real unhappy if something happened to us,” he grumbled, plopping himself down onto the berth with more force than necessary. Sunstreaker sat down next to him. 

Primus forbid someone other than Megatron himself hurt them. He could rape and slag them all he wanted, but the moment someone else tried to do what he did? Lines drawn, big time.

Ugh.

“I imagine so, yeah,” Lancer agreed. “Try to unwind for now though, okay? That was pretty rough.”

With that he left and they were once again locked in their tiny ass room that was getting more claustrophobic by the hour. 

They sat in silence for a minute or two before Sideswipe broke the silence with a simple, “Wanna merge?”

Sunstreaker nodded, and merge they did—just to try to wash away even some of what had happened.

----------------------------------------

The next day, again, nothing happened, Shockwave presumably busy with all the data he’d gathered from them.

But every day after that, there was something. They didn’t cooperate half the time, anymore, not when some of the things got increasingly outlandish. Sometimes they were made to merge, other times held separate, many a time Shockwave separated them without even giving them the chance to do it themselves. There were sharp objects, blunt objects, samples taken, the limits of what their spark and its ability to split could withstand truly tested to the last.

More often than not, it hurt. Nothing compared to the whole incident with dead energy, but it still hurt. It wasn’t the last time Shockwave used the zappy thing on them, either, though he never again did so separately at full force—but he did feed smaller amounts of energy into their spark even when they were split, just to test how much they could withstand before their spark started to destabilize all over again.

It never got so bad as the first time, but that wasn’t much of a comfort. 

They had so many wires attached to them, too. To their chest, primarily, as Shockwave went about trying to uncover all of the secrets of their spark and recorded everything he could about everything he did. Their heads weren’t left alone either, usually one of the mates always keeping an eye on what their frames thought about what was done to their spark at any given moment. 

Oh, and all the times they didn’t agree to keep their chestplates open, only for Shockwave to then jam them open. Sometimes there was a see-through pane involved too, when he wanted to sort of protect their spark from the outside world while still being able to visually observe it.

Wasn’t that just so kind of him. 

None of it was pleasant and a few times they honestly feared he’d pushed too far and caused permanent damage, and… Slag, when they were left alone they spent more time merged than separate, now, trying to assure themselves they were fine, that their spark was fine despite everything Shockwave put it through. That was mostly true. Physically they didn’t think he was doing anything that they wouldn’t recover from.

But wasn’t the story always that physically they could recover from everything that was done to them here in the palace, in Kaon, but that matters were quite different as far as their damned emotions went. Sideswipe spent an increasing amount of time crying, not just from the physical pain that sometimes grew to truly uncomfortable extents, but also from the… Helplessness. As ever. If they fought, Shockwave would just have them restrained to whatever point was necessary for him to go through with everything he wanted to do to them without interruptions. 

They didn’t see Perceptor again, and they had to wonder if that was because their disagreement with what was happening grew more vehement and their lack of consent ever more obvious. Perceptor had seemed like the type to care about details like that, where Shockwave definitely didn’t, and where his mates followed his lead. 

They were just as powerless here as they ever were with Megatron. They couldn’t even say they were very surprised by that, but it still… Hurt. 

And no one gave a damn.

-----------------------------------------------------------

It was exactly a full orn later that Shockwave finished with another round of doing whatever to their damn spark. Sideswipe was panting hard, his vents wheezing as he tried to center himself after having his spark toyed with—what was it this time, testing how their spark reacted to separation from the frame. After having his half pulled out of chest who knew how many times, every time to the point his frame greyed out… Yeah, excuse him if he wasn’t feeling the greatest. 

Sunstreaker wasn’t much better off. He wasn’t even growling anymore, his optics tightly closed where Sideswipe was instead staring at the bright lights, letting them blind him.

Lancer moved to remove their restraints—that by now had severely worn off their paint from the affected areas—first the ones holding their spark chambers and chestplates open. The moment those were gone both of their chassis slammed back shut so fast it hurt.

But it was still an intense relief, despite the sting.

Neither of them got up right away after their limbs were freed, still reeling a little too badly. However, then Chromia entered the room, and what Shockwave said next was right the thing to bring some more life to them. “Return them to Lord Megatron’s harem.”

They both stilled from disbelief, just for a time before Sideswipe shot to sitting and Sunstreaker leveraged himself onto his elbows. They stared at Shockwave first, as much as the scientist’s back was turned to them, before their attention moved to Chromia.

“Yes, master,” the blue mech said with a small bow, then turned their way and requested their compliance. 

Normally that would’ve been about the point where they told everyone to go frag themselves, but… Was it over? Was this over? Could they go back to the relative safety of the harem and not have to worry about Shockwave anymore?

Pits, they wanted to. They’d wanted to for quite a while now, and with unparalleled eagerness they both jumped off the berths and followed Chromia out of the room—a little unsteadily at first, but they regained their bearings little by little as they went through the corridors and doors, past even more doors, until they’d left Shockwave’s… Area of the palace entirely. Or what they assumed was the portion of the palace that belonged to Shockwave exclusively. 

Things were silent for a time, but once they were closing in on the elevators and their relief increased with every step away from Shockwave they took, Sideswipe’s curiosity got the better of him. “What’s Perceptor’s deal?”

Chromia glanced at him, but answered as readily as he had before. “I assume you mean he doesn’t look too Kaonite? He isn’t. He was brought in because of his scientific proficiency, though I’m not privy to what about him exactly caught the Lords’ attention.”

‘Brought in’? “Did he come… Willingly?” Sideswipe asked carefully.

Chromia smiled at him. “With how protected we keep our city, not many outsiders understand the honor coming to Kaon is. They do with time, though.”

So… No, Perceptor most likely hadn’t come willingly. They had to wonder how close to ‘understanding what an honor it is’ Perceptor was. Shockwave didn’t exactly seem to treat him with a lot of respect, but just as much it hadn’t looked like Perceptor was actively unhappy with being there. He’d looked downright excited at places.

Had to wonder how long he’d been in Kaon and how he had acted when first arriving.

Sideswipe would’ve asked more about it if the elevator doors hadn’t opened to reveal it already had an occupant.

“Lord Onslaught,” Chromia bowed immediately, before he stepped into the elevator anyway, no hesitation.

The twins sure hesitated before Sunstreaker steeled their spark and stepped inside too, Sideswipe following a step behind him.

Then the doors closed and the elevator continued up, with them stuck in the relatively small space with the tank—whose amusement filled the elevator. It was probably their unease that he found entertaining.

“Have you recovered yet, Sunstreaker?” Onslaught asked without much fanfare. Of course, there was no real concern about him. He was just continuing what he’d done at the dinner.

Except this time Sunstreaker didn’t have anything to throw at him. 

Likely for the best, honestly.

Instead of attacking Onslaught with objects or liquids, Sunstreaker contented himself with just one hateful glare before he turned away to ignore him, intent on showing as much disrespect as he possibly could. If Motormaster’s case was anything to go by, Onslaught himself wouldn’t be able to do anything about him anyway. 

Onslaught chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes. Knock Out is quite good at what he does.”

Then, with a glance at their frames, their scuffed portions in particular, “I hear Shockwave got his hands on you, too.”

They stayed silent. He continued, “Spark splitting—now there is a useful ability. Imagine the applications. Doubling the amount of soldiers while granting the pairs a connection that surpasses that of bonded pairs, even bonded twins. Am I wrong? If Shockwave succeeds… My, you would have truly served Kaon, no doubt even earning yourselves a mention in the history books.

“Think of it. Thanks to you, no one could combat Kaon’s elite army. Unified Cybertron and its Prime could never threaten us again.”

Threaten them? When was the last time that had even happened? After Zeta’s failed conquest, how many times had Free Cybertron actually tried to take Kaon?

Obviously they’d failed even if they’d tried, but they honestly didn’t know if there had been smaller wars since the Unification. 

And still… Even speaking of such an advantage, Onslaught didn’t word things as if Kaon would have wanted to go on warpath against the rest of Cybertron. Were they really, honestly that content to just be left alone, or was Onslaught leaving things out?

“I really couldn’t care less about whatever benefits Kaon,” Sunstreaker couldn’t keep himself from growling despite his earlier intent to just ignore the damn mech, even as he still stubbornly didn’t look at Onslaught—whose field burst with amusement, while Chromia’s edged with… Disapproval?

Well, frag Chromia too.

“You should. You are Kaonite now, yourself,” Onslaught disagreed.

This time Sunstreaker glared as well as snarled at him. “Never.”

Onslaught chuckled again, although the sound was cut off when Sideswipe blurted a question before he could stop himself. “Do you uh, have a harem?” Change of topic, anyone?

“I do indeed,” the tank confirmed easily, apparently not taking offense from that either. “One that I share with my team.”

Team? “...How big is your team?”

“There’s five of us.”

Five mecha sharing one harem? He could only hope they had enough mates that… No one got overworked.

Oh, Primus.

Sideswipe swallowed, but still asked further. “Are you the leader?”

“Of my team, yes.”

He had to wonder how high Onslaught ranked overall, though it was probably… Pretty high, all things considered. 

“Cool,” Sideswipe said lamely and things lapsed back into silence until the elevator came to a stop—one floor below their final destination. 

Onslaught stepped out to a bow from Chromia. “Stay safe,” he drawled in parting before he set down the hall to destinations unknown. The elevator doors closed, they traveled up one more floor, and then they were back to the level of Megatron’s wing and his harem.

Chromia led them out and through the relatively short walk to the harem wing’s doors. Soundwave was standing outside, by all appearances waiting for them.

“Lord Soundwave.” Chromia bowed at him too.

“Dismissed,” was all Soundwave acknowledged that with as if he was a Shockwave copy or something, and Chromia bowed again before giving them a smile and then going right back the way they came.

Leaving them alone with Shockwave. Oh, and the two guards standing at the doors but decidedly not opening them, but the guards barely counted.

They didn’t need to wait for long for what Soundwave was here for. “Experiments went well?”

And… That was what he wanted to know? Sideswipe huffed. “I guess, aside from him nearly killing us. But we didn’t die all the way, so yaaaay.” No one would probably care that it all had sucked in so many other ways too.

Soundwave’s visor flashed, and that was about the most reaction they’d ever seen out of the mech. “Permanent damage?”

“Not as far as we know, no?”

“Why do you care?” Sunstreaker growled, glaring all proper where Sideswipe was mostly just miffed.

“Megatron concerned,” came Soundwave’s answer.

And that… Was a bit concerning in its own right. “...Were there that good chances Shockwave would’ve gone too far?” Sideswipe asked carefully.

The fact Soundwave didn’t say anything was probably answer enough.

So. Megatron had entirely and knowingly risked their life, just for the sake of knowledge. Which… Honestly, wasn’t surprising. They hadn’t expected they meant that much to the tyrant to begin with, and if the whole split-spark deal was as useful as everyone made it out to be, what kind of a tradeoff was it to possibly lose a couple of mates and gain an entire army? Megatron would’ve been dumb as hell to not take that risk, even if he’d have preferred them alive.

Sideswipe’s shoulders slumped. It made sense, but it still wasn’t a nice feeling that their life was valued to be that… Insignificant. Not worthless, really, because if Shockwave succeeded then it would’ve been worth it for the powers that be. A loss for the twins, but not really anyone else.

And who cared about the twins?

...He just wanted to be out of here. No one had given a damn about his life on the streets either, but at least there he’d been in charge of it.

Here no one gave a damn and he was completely at the mercy of another.

“Can we go?” Sideswipe asked, voice quiet as he glanced longingly at the harem’s closed doors. He didn’t see Soundwave’s nod, but Sunstreaker did–

And then the guards opened the doors. 

They didn’t hurry in, but it was a close thing.

( Next )

[mk-wizard]

Beast Wars Megatron: Analysis of an Insecure Megalomaniac

Hello, fans. Today, by the request of @lolipop192089​, I am going to do a character analysis of Beast Wars Megatron.

According to his bio, Megatron grew up in the mafia and was raised by Cryotek. Just from this information alone, you can tell that this is going to mess a guy up. Basically, he was raised in an environment without law, violence, opportunists and it is every mech for himself. What may come as a shock to people is that when he was young, Megatron was in fact insecure and at one time, he wanted Cryotek’s admiration. Yet to add insult to injury, while his boss did indeed love him like the son he never had, Megatron realised that it wouldn’t, and didn’t, stop him from planning to stab him in the back even after he stole the golden disk. After that, Megatron beat Cryotek to the punch by stabbing his back first and taking over the Predacon force he lead.

Having Megatron start off as being an insecure errand boy really does make sense when you stop and think about it. In many ways, he isn’t a far cry from Marvel’s Kingpin: a guy who just wanted to be someone in the eyes of his father figure, but then realised he could be so much more. Having him being brought up by the mafia also explains his leading style and how he has no qualms about using his own Predacons, then throwing them away. He really is a lot more like a Godfather than a general like G1 Decepticon Megatron was. It also explains why honour, fairness and integrity are foreign if not disgusting to him. In fact, “Megatron” was not even his original name. He renamed himself that because he now thought of himself as being important.

I think it is also likely that this newfound confidence didn’t happen right after the theft of the golden disk. Firstly, I am sure Megatron saw Cryotek betray other people over and over again including people he liked, so he kind of knew that one day, his time would come. Secondly, Megatron rose above the ranks through a lot of hard work and as his status grew, so did his confidence. I think the theft of the golden disk was more like the moment he reflected on how far he came and realised he didn’t need Cryotek’s praise anymore. If anything, he now saw Cryotek as the last barrier he had to overcome and take his rightful place which in his opinion, was at the top.

Like all mob lords though, the top is never high enough and we saw that throughout Beast Wars as well as Beast Machines. He didn’t want to just be the leader of the Predacons, he wanted to rule the Maximals as well. Then he wanted to rewrite history in his own image. Then he thought of himself as a prophet. And at the end, as a God who ought to rule all Transformers. No longer was Megatron insecure and looking for praise. He was a megalomaniac who expected worship. As soon as he found his confidence, he got drunk on it and never sobered up since. Yet, unlike Marvel’s Kingpin, Megatron didn’t know when to not cross the line. Due to this, he got crushed under his own ego and set himself up for failure even long before Optimus Primal faced off with him at the end of the first Beast Wars arc. It was most likely because Megatron is not as intelligent as Cryotek or Kingpin. Come to think, the guy had a pretty one track mind when it came to his ideas and was so full of himself, he wouldn’t know how to handle failure simply because he never learned to anticipate it. Megatron believed all of his plans to be flawless even after failing over and over again.

I am guessing that this rejection of humility goes back to what he was like from before. Megatron’s obsession with being the boss of everything and loving only himself all stems to recalling how he started off as a boy who just wanted his father’s love. Like most people who walk his path, he saw humility as a weakness or a sign of regressing back to what he used to be like.

After looking at all of this, one wonders if maybe Megatron could have done it any other way. Well, I personally don’t think he could have done it any other way in the beginning because that was his childhood and to escape it, he had to make the first dark move to survive. Everything after that though, it was all on him. He had a choice on what to do with his freedom and he wasn’t even the only one who got it in the end and nobody did what Megatron did. He had chance after chance to do better and become wiser, but he rejected each opportunity by looking for the next means to an end instead. I would have to say that Beast Wars Megatron in many ways shares a lot in common with the Decepticon Starscream namely in how he is one of the few characters I can say is truly evil and in it for himself except he isn’t a coward.

At least that is my analysis of Beast Wars Megatron. What do all of you think?

If you have a fan theory explored or a character analysis done, let me know in my ask box.

Thanks for reading and take care, fans.

[kittydemon9000]

Unfortunate Timing

*silently slides to @kabuki-akuma* I did a thing for PrimeDeck

AO3

***

Optimus was a worried mess.

Well, maybe not a mess. Sure he was a little upset that Sentinel was coming, and worried about how he’d react to the Braves, and scared that he go off about how bots made by humans weren’t anything more than drones, and-

Yah know what, scratch that. He wasn’t worried. He was terrified.

Instead of The Steelhaven, Sentinel has arrived on a smaller, nameless ship by himself. Ultra Magnus saw no need to send the giant ship, as it was just a small check-in. The visit was only supposed to last a few hours, after all.

Unfortunately, the Brave Police had just gotten a new lead on a case, which just so happened to lead to Primus fragging Detroit, Michigan at the same time.

Not like Optimus didn’t enjoy the Braves company. Drill Boy, Bumblebee, Sari, and Yuuta (and occasionally Power Joe) got along amazingly, and so did Shadowmaru and Prowl. Gunmax was always looking for an excuse to visit Jazz and was around often enough that the team was used to him. Duke was often seen with Ratchet learning first aid, and McCrane and Dumpson were often just drifting around. 

And Deckerd… Optimus really connected with the leader of the Braves. The two often spent hours talking about their respective teams, plans, past adventures, and other such things. Deckerd actually helped Optimus build up some confidence during his small visits.

“Hey there, Optimus ol’ buddy.” a familiar voice snapped Optimus from his thoughts, along with the sound of transforming. Bulkhead and Ratchet were the (un)lucky winners of their small vote to get Sentinel. Optimus would have done it if nothing else than to spare his teammates the drive, but he, along with Jazz, were immediately excluded from the vote. If it were up to Ratchet,  the two would’ve been locked in the med bay for the duration of Sentinel’s visit. Something about “for their own good and mental health.”

“Sentinel,” Optimus answered. Sentinel scowled at the lack of rank acknowledgment but didn’t say anything about it.

“Let go!” a hyper voice said from the hallway, followed by a clang of metal and a not very quiet “SHHH!”. Optimus cursed internally. Sometimes the similarities between Bumblebee and Drill Boy were uncanny. He says stay quiet, and the opposite happens.

Sentinel looked at the hallway in confusion, but it quickly became a smirk.

“Unauthorized personnel on Earth?” he started. “You know the rules, Optimus.”

Optimus let out a sigh. He put it off for as long as he could, which was 3 hours less than he wanted, but still.

“You guys can come out now,” he called.

Slowly, each of the eight robot police officers, plus Jazz, entered from the hallway. Drill Boy was clutching to his helm while wilting from a glare from Power Joe, making it clear who did what. Jazz and Gunmax were close to each other, with Jazz slightly behind Gunmax. Deckerd stood in the front of the group, orange optics shining.

Sentinel actually looked shocked for a few seconds, clearly not expecting such a large group, before giving Optimus that smirk. The same smirk he always gave when he caught even the smallest mistake Optimus made.

“Really, Optimus? One or two might’ve been excusable, but eight.” That was a lie and they both knew it. Sentinel wouldn’t have hesitated to report even a single “unauthorized” bot on Earth.

“What are you talking about?” Deckerd asked, drawing away Sentinel’s attention. Optimus let out a silent breath now that Sentinel’s optics weren’t tearing into his very spark.

“Well you see, Optimus here is supposed to report any and all Cybertronians on Earth, which he very clearly hasn’t done,” Sentinel said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But….” Drill Boy started. “We’re not Cybertronians.”

Sentinel balked.

“What?”

“We’re. Not. Cy-ber-tro-ni-ans.” Drill Boy repeated, this time much slower. Bumblebee snickered as Sentinel grew furious.

“I heard you the first time!” he snapped.

“Then why’d you ask?” Drill asked innocently, adding a small head tilt to really sell it. Sentinel let out an angry groan and facepalmed.

A small smile threatened to tug at Optimus’s lips, but he kept his face stoic. It would only make Sentinel more upset.

“The point is that Optimus didn’t report you, which is strictly against the rules he put into place. Isn’t that right, ol’ buddy?”

Optimus let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his olfactory sensors. It was one of the many things he had picked up from his time spent on Earth.

But just as he was about to answer, Deckerd beat him to it.

“Optimus did no such thing.” Sentinel stared at Deckerd.

“Of course he did! He-“ but Deckerd cut him off.

“Optimus Prime did not break protocol because we are not Cybertronians. We were made by humans and have lived on Earth our entire lives.”

Both Sentinel and Optimus froze.

“What!” Sentinel shouted. “You were made! By humans!!!!” He spat out the word like they were rotten.

“Yes, they were,” Optimus said, keeping his voice deceptively calm. Now Sentinel’s focus was on him…...

“They’re…….!” Sentinel looked like he was about to explode into a fireball. “They’re drones! Sparkless machines!”  He shouted, jabbing a finger in their direction. Every single one of the Braves looked deeply offended.

“We’re not. We received our own souls and have emotions, much like Cybert-“ Deckerd started, but was cut off.

“They were made. By humans!!!!” He repeated. Sentinel didn’t even acknowledge the Braves now, staring straight at Optimus. 

“Of all your mistakes, Optimus, this tops them all.” He stopped for a second before continuing. “Well, maybe not all of them.”

Optimus couldn’t help but flinch at what he was obviously implying, but he held his gaze.

“I’ll have to report this to Ultra Magnus, maybe even get the Autobot Science Division involved. Primus knows Perceptor would love to-” 

Optimus’s energon ran cold at the mention of the ASD. From what he gathered from Ratchet, they were the cause of Omega Supreme’s coding, as well as for changing the Jettwins. He couldn’t….no, he wouldn’t let the ASD get their hands on the Braves.

“ENOUGH, SENTINEL!” He shouted. Everyone snapped to attention. Sentinel glared at Optimus.

“Now listen here, Optimus.” But Optimus was having none of it.

“No, you listen, Sentinel!” He shouted. “These bots are under my jurisdiction. They are native to Earth and have proven their sentience There will be no getting the ASD involved!”

Sentinel looked like he was about to say something, but Optimus cut him off again.

“And that’s Optimus Prime, to you.” their faces were only inches apart. “Ultra Magnus placed me in charge of alien life here on Earth, which the Braves are not. They are considered a native species to this planet, and by Autobot law, I quote “Should any mechanical life form pass the Ambus Test, they are to be treated according to Autobot Law.” end quote. Autobot law outlaws scientific and medical testing without consent by the mech in question or their Conjux Endura should they be unable to make the decision themself.”

The room was silent.

“Do I make myself clear, Sentinel Prime.” Optimus finished. Sentinel was giving Optimus a death glare. He clearly hadn’t been expecting Optimus to react this way.

“Crystal.” he hissed. He turned around and headed to the door. “Everything else seems to be in order. Goodbye, Optimus.”

As soon as the sound of Sentinel’s engine faded away, Optimus suddenly lost all the strength and confidence he had a few seconds ago and crashed to his knees, venting harshly.

Ratchet was quickly kneeling by his side. He placed a careful servo on his back and started rubbing in soothing circles. “Vent, kid. Vent.”

“I’m….”Optimus started. “I’m okay….I just….I just need a sec.”

“You did good, kid. You did good.” Ratchet repeated, keeping his voice low.

***

“Optimus, are you in there?” Deckerd knocked. It had been a few hours since Sentinel's….. ”visit.”

The door opened and a quite tired looking Optimus greeted him.

“Oh! Hello Deckerd. Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked. Deckerd just smiled.

“Actually, I came to thank you.” Optimus looked shocked.

“What for?”

“For defending my team, earlier,” he said. “You didn’t have to, but you did.”

Optimus gave an awkward laugh.

“It wasn’t anything special, but you’re welcome.”

The two stood in silence for a few seconds, neither one knowing what to do.

“I guess I’ll…*ahem* guess I’ll be going,” Deckerd said, breaking the silence.

“Y-yes. I’ll see you in the morning.” Optimus responded. “Goodnight”

“Goodnight,” Deckerd responded.

With the door now closed, Deckerd started the walk back to his temporary room, silently cursing himself as his face grew redder with embarrassment.

***

BONUS 

Before all this happens

Bumblebee: Have you ever been yelled at by Optimus

Braves: We’re not afraid of him.

Bumblebee: So that’s a no.

[seafleece]

“you know, you’re not very brave.”

he thinks vax missed being taller than him. it’s hard to give a statement like that any weight when you’re looking up to someone.

he puts a hand to his heart. “well, thank you.”

“it’s not a compliment.”

“oh, but it is, vax’ildan.” he casts a look over all of them— out of their mechs, showing the signs of being rattled in them, like yolks in an egg. “seeing how well bravery treats all of you. i don’t need to be brave. i need to be smart. in fact, i would say the latter prevents the former.”

they all look rather stonily at him, so he pretends to be interested suddenly in the haphazard schematic on his desk and deflects. “so the materials. i won’t be getting them myself, of course— bruises would ruin my cowardly complexion, you see—“

—

they do the damn thing, of course.

vecna builds himself a beautiful beast, all right, but aspirations are like a tower— you need to build ever higher, but the resources stay finite. you scrape the sky only to find you’ve been cutting at your foundation to craft your spire, and a tap has you tumbling back to earth.

he works and works on the traveler, and doesn’t think about the psychopomp or the friends he left behind when the blaze of him across the sky burnt out.

he never comes up with a better name for it, too busy thinking about what it’ll be like to stand beneath a blue sky. a traveler for a traveler— it suffices. you only need a name if you’re going to be introduced to someone else, and that’s not exactly the plan.

he’d never thought about it before vax’ildan, but he takes a moment as he puts the finishing touches on the cloaking mechanism to enjoy cowardice, to revel in safety by his own hand. he’s always been good at avoidance, and now he sees it realized.

the thought leaps unbidden that cowards only live to watch the brave die for them, and he laughs shakily to dispel it. maybe vax’ildan is waiting on some gray shore to ferry him to places unknown, but he’ll be waiting forever.

—

it’s not brave, talking to her.

it’s one of the safest things he could do— she’s a child. no friends, no risk of exposure. there’s so much to be afraid of here that it becomes what keeps him going, just cataloguing it all. strange big loud world, ocean roaring and ships crashing and business and politics and people and life always happening, so fast and so short, like lit brush, like moths. he sees a girl with her head propped on her fist, idly coloring in a flower on her bedroom wall, and he’s unafraid of what she could do.

talking to jester isn’t brave. it’s not breaking the rules he’s got for laying low.

but it is stupid.

—

“what’s it called?”

“the traveler.”

never named, never meant to be introduced. a rule broken. jester punctuates it by clapping her little hands giddily. “it’s beautiful. did you make it all yourself?”

“i did indeed.”

“momma says dad had one, but i don’t think it was this pretty. she said he even let her fly it one time, but that they ran into some bad guys and that’s how he decided he had to leave, to keep her safe.”

“ah,” he says, having nothing better to say.

“can i try yours out?”

she’s maybe three or four feet tall. her hands wouldn’t even reach all of the controls, he thinks, from the chair.

“i don’t think so,” he says, and then surprises himself by tacking on “i’m sorry” when her face crumples, even moreso when he realizes he means it.

—

“did you see the kids down at the beach?”

“i did.”

“do you think—“ she twists her hands nervously. “i never had any friends before you. i don’t know how to make them.”

it’s like she’s punched him.

(scanlan was funny. he’d offered even to take a look over bigby the night before saundor, and he’d seen a picture taped to scanlan’s control panel, a young woman, scowling at the camera. who’s this, he’d said, tongue a little loose with borrowed wine, and scanlan had sighed with his tongue and heart even looser and said, my daughter, and the understanding had fizzled right out of him. he didn’t even try with the others, but losing the feeling of having a mirror in someone else for the first time, of commiserating, of talking, even, it lingers.

scanlan came back ready to fight a god, and he mourned the loss of something he never really succeeded in having at all.)

“it just takes practice,” he says. “making friends.”

he can see she’s close to crying, and it stabs at him. “how am i supposed to practice?” she whispers. “i can’t leave.”

he excuses himself and listens to her start to cry, sniffles and then sobs too full of feeling for a child, and then he goes to the traveler sitting cloaked and cowardly in a cliff alcove, and gets to work.

—

“you know, i’m proud of you.”

“thanks? i’m a little busy right now.”

he keeps talking like he hasn’t heard her.

on her dash, the indicator is bright, green and steady. it’s not the first time she’s run out of power on a mission before. not even the second, or third, or fourth. it switches over automatically— not a big deal, but seeing that light blink on, she feels safe. whole.

“you’re braver than me.”

she doesn’t say anything.

“you always were. i made this ship so it could never be found, and you’ve done more with it in plain view then i ever did in hiding. more with me.”

vokodo’s an ugly thing, swimming bulbous in the thin atmosphere. heat ripples around him, distorting the sky. fire bursts in tiny pockets where debris is caught too close or simply sheds from him, and when it burns out the remains trail ash down, down to the distant earth.

“hope you’re watching, psychopomp.”

“hmm?”

“ah, don’t worry.”

then, she gets shot.

—

he doesn’t finish before it breaks bad.

the mechanism is— it’s complicated. hard to keep himself himself.

he’s just decided to call it for the day when he hears feet kicking up sand towards the entrance, tearing at the hanging coastal plants.

“i messed up.”

she looks distraught when she gets through, breathing hard and face tracked with tears.

“um—“

“i can’t go home. i don’t have anywhere else.”

he darts his eyes over to the traveler and back again. not finished, but serviceable.

“i—“

“you can drop me off in port damali, or at the gorge, or anywhere, just,” and she swipes at her eyes, “take me with you.”

“you can have it.”

“what?”

he’s surprised by it, too. surprised it was that simple to cross over that last threshold— all the planning was easier when he was unsure it would come to fruition.

“i’ve been working on it. you’ll be able to pilot it, reach all the controls and everything.”

“what about you?”

“i’ll come with you— i. i can’t always be there, but uh— it’s me. the traveler. it’s part of me, a version of me. i can try to be it when you need me.”

“why?”

in his mind’s eye he sees a little girl in the alcove of a hidden beach. watching with wide eyes as ships cut smooth trails across the water and fade against the horizon, as people gather on the sand in loud clusters and hold each other’s hands to wade into the surf.

watching the world pass by without her.

“friendship, i guess. i’m not good at it either.”

—

it’s quiet, is the thing. falling from the sky.

it’s a wobbly spiral they cut, like a bird broken. jester’s hands slip from the controls— sweat or blood, he can’t quite tell.

“jester.”

he doesn’t think she could even say anything— the speed would tear it from her throat into a million shreds. he speaks in her mind instead, the way he hasn’t for a long time.

below them the wings of the stormlord burst from the sides, a symphony of metal pinions. they shoot past her and she dives, too slow, too slow.

beau and expositor 008 are clinging to him, still. its rotating claws are deep and the paint, the outer plates are searing away, dripping from its titanium bones. he thinks beau is probably screaming.

if it were a better day to die he thinks he would spin a speech, his best one. she’d cry, and then laugh through it. he’d go offline in a shower of sparks.

but it’s never a good day to die. jester is about to black out from hypoxia. The ground lurches to meet them like an eager magnet. he doesn’t even know if she can hear him.

“love you, jester.”

no swirl. no green. just the thing you say to someone beloved if you think it’ll be the last.

it looks beautiful. the invisible paneling unfolds, like a flower in reverse. heat skates on the surface, red and blue and white.

deep in the dissolving wires, he closes his eyes. the panels drip invisibility as it burns from them. they close on jester like a shell, bright and obvious in the sky.

then, it breaks into spinning shards on the sea. 

they float like feathers, silent and empty.

jester’s father has water in his veins. she goes under and sinks for a long moment. blood is washed from her nose, her ears, carried away and lost.

then, she breaks the surface.

[edgymegatronus]

The Pits of Kaon

The lights of the arena where always blinding. Searing white light that chiseled its way into your optic nerves, washing away any other surrounding colours so much that one may think they’re joining with the Allspark once they step out onto the ashy plain. This is purposeful, of course, for the arena was a stage for the barbaric, where the onlookers can see it’s actors, but the actors cannot gaze back at them. Once you have shuttered your optics several times and they begin to adjust, only spots of bright light decorating your vision for a short while, the arena comes heaving into view, stagnant and intimidating. Massive, beyond comprehension, the blackened jewel of Kaon. You’d have to squint to see the opposite end of the Energon-crusted pit. The steep, cold grey sides rocketed up towards the skies, the heavens where the audience sat to eagerly absorb the slaughter. Every brandish of a sword, every amputation of a limb, every scream or victory holler, every spark taken was feasted upon by those hunger bound optics. In the lower areas of the arena, closer to the action, there were boxes reserved for the higher caste aristocracy from great cities like Iacon and Vos. Above them, with a more strained view, sat the rest of the Cybertronain populous. It was never correctly calculated how many the arena could house- it depended on how tightly the lower class worker mechs packed themselves together to watch the entertainment. There was always shoving and drunkenness, fights began over the limited space and smaller mechs often simply got crushed under pede if they didn’t move fast enough. Very few actually from Kaon ever got to sit in the golden boxes, where quality high-grade Energon flowed like ground oil as its famed patrons gawked down into the pit. The atmosphere was always rancheros, the first death spelled out the kick-off for the day's events to begin. In the mornings there were petty fights. Weak slaves pitted against each other, unarmed mechs left to the mercy of some of the most vicious beasts Cybertron had to offer. This got the crowd vying to see more Energon spilled on the ashy floors of the pit. As the hilarity reached its crescendo into the afternoon, we were brought out.

Titled ‘Gladiators’, we were prime time entertainment. Romanticised as strong mechs each with some characterisation the media invalidated us with to entice the onlookers into made up rivalries between us, adding passion to the murder. Some mechs actually sank into this, and took signature moves and mottos played into their characters, worked to gain support from those oppressing them. Usually, this was the quickest way to die. The arena owners would only allow a Gladiator in the limelight for so many matches and killed them before they became too boring, and to make the audience more invested as each match progressed. They died deluded, for we were just slaves with swords. Brought from all over Cybertronain, but most commonly hailing from places like Kaon, Tarn, and Praxus. Sold off from our previous services because we were no longer needed, a better model had been introduced, rule-breaking, being damaged, or because our masters had taken a general disliking. Being sold to the arena was most times a death sentence, an execution in front of the masses. Gladiators were ones who had won their petty matches by some flailing chance of Primus, and in turn proven their metal, and therefore their worth as a mascot. We were not Gladiators.

Our namesake competed by choice, for fame or honour or glory. For a fractured misconception of what they believed to be justice or righteousness. We were slaves, forced to kill our peers, and stare them in the optics as we did, giving a good performance. Refusal meant immediate death, and showmanship was integral. Most of us only lasted a few months before losing a match and being offlined, the longest-reigning mech making it just over a year before the Arena Owners decided he had nothing left to give, no new tricks, and threw him in the pit unarmed with four Krystar Iron-Bears. Some audience members genuinely cried when he passed. But by the next week, he was replaced by a new favourite Gladiator to root for.

I was on my fifth month. My last match had been a near miss. Bad damages all over my frame, lost an arm and my sword-wielding servo was crushed. Inches over and my spark chamber would’ve known the cold of a blunted blade. My opponent was of a bigger build than me, but still new, he had chosen the name ‘Ignode’ for himself after the Arena Owners had given him a flashy new red paint job, replacing his basic menial grey. For some appalling reason, he’d made the mistake of choosing two weapons, rather than one and a shield. An underestimation, I suppose. The new Gladiators, nicknamed ‘Pickrings’ by the rest of us, often got too cocky and suffered the consequences. The day I was declared fit for fighting it was a ‘Winner stays on Tournament’ these often drew larger crowds due to the anticipation and tension aspect that was attached to them. Clearly my medical bills were going to be well paid for by this grotesque procession. The objective to continually kill, over and over, to vanquish spark after spark until eventually, you grew so weak from each consecutive battle that you could no longer hold your own – and you were killed, your deathbringer taking up the mantel and the cycle continued deep into the night while the crowds drank and laughed and indulged.

The bellowing winds that spun like a lifeless tornado around the arena whipped uncomfortably over the exposed cables on the back of my neck. The piece of armour plating that usually protected it had been lost last round and was therefore subject to the treatment of the blowing grit and ash that made a point of invading every crack and gap in plating. Everything felt too heavy, most notably my spark. I had just completed round fifteen, downed fifteen opponents, and somewhere I doubted if Primus would accept me into his loving cradle. My frame was ex-venting in long, drawn out drags. An attempt to cool my shot systems. Every inch of plating was dented or scarred, with slices and holes, faintly missing main Energon lines or mobility joints. I smiled. Before entering the arena, each slave got to choose two tools to utilise during the match. Almost classically, I wielded a long sword with some form of age old forgotten crest on the hilt. I had nicknamed it ‘The Pick’ and it occupied my right servo. To my left brandished a thick oval-shaped silver shield, decorated dashingly with chipped paint and emblems. These things were my trademark, my protection, my symbol, and my saviours.

The spotlight swung intricately around the arena floor once more towards the pit entrance. The thick metal gates opening with the same slow dramatism to reveal my newest combatant. The light fell on him, illuminating his thickset grey frame for the crowds to gawk at, tantalising their optics with the slick view. He smelt like blood and burnt circuitry. They were enraptured, seeing that I was weakening and that this new rival seemed finely built to deliver onto me the final blow, one of those agile miner types. I sized him up immediately; hazarding a guess the Arena Owner’s hadn’t expected much to come from him, only bothering to add spiked red paint under his optics and the larger areas of his expansive grey plating. His optics were stifling, staring directly at me as I stood blatantly forward with my shoulders rolled back, awaiting. We couldn’t yet commence as the Announcer hadn’t yet called for us to do so. Most Gladiators took this brief interval to entertain the crowd, picking up the bodies of mechs they’d killed and throwing them, giving grand victorious gestures and shouts with their weapons, lapping the arena, cheering. I stood still and stared, unwilling to give them any more than the battle.

“Welcoming! Megatronus of Tarn! A heavy-hitting ground-build from the Mines of Messatine! During his petty match earlier this week, Megatronus won against two fellow contestants and a Decopodian in record time! Let’s see how he will fare against our reigning Knight! May Round Sixteen Commence!”

Of course- I had viewed that match from my cell screen. Looking at him now, his crimson optics dimmed. He seemed like a mech who had slaughtered millions, not just two. He made the first step forward, revealing to me his weapons. A small, lightweight shield and a ridged axe. A very decent choice for a mech of his stature. A bow or daggers would’ve been suicide, he was too stocky to be properly dexterous with them, and he was clearly aware. A mech overtly aware of his own capabilities was inherently more dangerous than one who overestimated, or even underestimated themselves. I resumed my ‘defensive stance’ as his larger frame drew closer, each step meticulous and powerful and calculated. He was so self-assured, confident in his ability to wield and kill on his first ever Gladiator match. His EM’s were almost suffocating. I struck the first blow, my long sword firmly embedding itself between his thick shoulder plating. The weapon felt so leaden in my tired arms, each movement causing a low static to run through my circuits as they protested in earnest. My frame was tired, and my processor malcontent. The grey mech swooped his axe low and he raised his smaller shield, directing it precisely so my sword repelled off of it, the force driving my abused frame backwards – into the sharpened blade of his axe.

The Arena began to swirl maliciously as I opened my optics, my HUD showing severe damages to my left leg, and to my back spoilers which had taken the brunt of the hurt as I hit the engulfing floor of the pit. Through the static shock that vibrated through my audial, the faint crazed shouts and cheering from the crowd, layered over the Announcer speaking in a hurriedly excited tone. They were joyful in the revelation of my oncoming demise.

He stared down at me blankly, lifting the axe while calculating the weakest points to strike in my neck or spark chamber. The lights of the arena shone brighter than ever, searing into my optics as they flickered and faded.

He took his victory unlike any other, simply lifting his arms and throwing away his weapons in retribution. They hit the floor of the pit with an almighty clatter, and the crowd cheered and chanted his name, making members of the elite recoil.

[writeyouin]

Swerve X Reader – Changes - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Whispers in the Silence

A/N – After a very successful vote in which Swerve won out, here is the next chapter. As always, a great thanks to @rocksinmuffin​ for continuing to inspire this story with their amazing imagines.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

As a rule, the Lost Light was a ship that prided itself on noise, adventure and laughter, but with you in sick bay, under the careful operation of three medics and two scientists, the ship held nothing but a deep and terrible silence. It didn’t matter that Swerve was quietly sobbing outside the operating theatre; the ship was still a static void in which no sound mattered.

If you were beside him, Swerve knew you would make the best of such a situation, probably saying something like, ‘Huh, I guess in space, nobody can hear you scream. Who’d’ve guessed?’

When Swerve was in the operating theatre all that time ago, you left him a message to listen to until he got back. He had listened to it over seventy-two times while you were in the medics’ servos, if only to hear your voice again. Primus, it wasn’t fair! Swerve couldn’t leave you a message because you weren’t Cybertronian, and worse than that, he wasn’t even allowed to be in the same room as you because Ratchet had thrown him out when he started to get in the way.

Swerve looked up when he heard a door open, but it wasn’t the operating theatre, it was only the waiting room entrance that led to the decks. Tailgate waved awkwardly at Swerve, soon lowering his servo out of respect. He and Cyclonus simply made their way to the right-hand wall and left two small vials of their innermost energon before leaving to stand with the bots in the corridor; that made exactly ninety-seven vials of innermost energon thus far. Swerve was glad that none of the others tried talking to him upon leaving their energon; for once, he was in no mood to talk. He also appreciated that the bots outside were staggering their queue times in leaving their innermost energon. One or two bots would come in every half hour or so to leave their vials, and before the day was through, Swerve was sure there would be almost two-hundred vials for you. It seemed everyone loved you, almost as much as he did.

Another round of sobbing racked Swerve’s body. He pulled out his locket with your hair in it, clutching it close to his spark, as if it might will you back to full health. The two of you had only been married one year, how could the universe be so cruel as to threaten that so soon?

“Swerve?”

Swerve shook his head, as a memory of your voice surfaced, followed closely by a visual feed of the event in his processor’s optic.

“(Y/N)?” Swerve beamed, repeating your confused tone, even though he was well-aware of what you were going to ask.

“I um- I know we said we were going to re-decorate the hab-suite, but why… why does it look like the friends set?”

“You don’t like purple?” He asked all too innocently.

You jumped as a laugh-track played aloud, “Oh my God…. You didn’t. Swerve, tell me you didn’t add a laugh track to the apartment.”

Swerve looked far into the background, winking at nothing, “Maybe.”

The laughter briefly continued, only escalating when you face-palmed.

“Why are you like this?”

At that, Swerve only chuckled and splashed you with paint, triggering the first of what he hoped would be many paint fights along your life together.

Coolant sprung from Swerve’s optics and he choked out another sob. That memory was from April Fool’s Day and he had re-decorated the apartment with you properly the day after. Swerve prayed to both Primus and every deity he knew of on Earth that you would come out of this okay and that he wouldn’t have to live with the weight of his mistake forever.

He needed you. Couldn’t the universe see that? He needed you to reassure him that everything would be okay. He needed you to come in the bar every day and lean over to kiss him, no matter what anyone else muttered under their breaths about him. He needed you to waylay the fears and doubts from his mind that he wasn’t good enough.

More than that, he wanted to be there for you as-well.

“(Y/N)! ARE YOU SICK? PLEASE, TELL ME WHAT’S WRONG!”

Swerve scrunched his optics shut as another memory hit him like a tonne of bricks.

You were curled up in pain, hugging yourself and groaning. You forced yourself to shake your head, shuddering as you breathed out slowly. “Shark week,” You winced.

“SHARK WEEK?” Swerve cried. You had already forewarned him of this, but he didn’t think it would hurt you so badly. Hurriedly, he ran to your tiny cupboards, bringing out extra blankets, a two-litre bottle of water, several boxes of pills (one of which surely had to be the right one), a large bar of synthetic chocolate, and a heat pad. After you mentioned shark week the first time to him, Swerve had visited Ratchet to learn what would help you and Ratchet had given him these supplies.

“Which do you need?” Swerve asked frantically.

You could tell he was about to go into full-blown panic mode, as he usually did when he first encountered some new experience of organic life that he hadn’t seen before. Before you were married, you had generally avoided him when this happened to save him from any embarrassment, but now the two of you were married, you knew he wouldn’t be awkward about organic matters; well, not that awkward anyway.

Sitting up slowly, you took a few sips of water, smiling when the nausea passed, “Good job sweetie. I’m all better now.”

Swerve pointed an accusatory finger at you, “No! that’s your placating smile, not your happy smile. Tell me the truth, do you need Ratchet? Are you still in pain? If so, how much pain? Should I get Rodimus to stop on a nearby planet? I could-”

For once, you left Swerve to rant on, while you simply went to sleep. In retrospect, that wasn’t your best idea as he gasped and sped of to the medical bay, dragging Ratchet back with him, but honestly you were too tired at the time to answer his questions. After giving you the once-over, Ratchet gave Swerve a stern-talking to about heeding his research into humans before wasting his time.

“If (Y/N) says she’s fine, she’s fine,” Ratchet glowered, walking out of the hab-suite. “Next time, listen to her before you come to me.”

Swerve chewed his lip anxiously, before approaching you again. Now you were well-rested, you were sat under a blanket with the heating pad over your stomach.

“You’re really okay?” he asked.

“With you to take care of me? Always.”

Swerve stared at the operating theatre door. That was the problem; he wasn’t there for you now. Granted, Swerve was smarter than most bots gave him credit for, but he wasn’t a doctor or a scientist. He didn’t have healer’s hands. He was a barman. Why in Primus’ name had you married him instead of somebody useful? You could have been with somebody who listened to you when you told him not to cross that bridge. You could have been with someone who hadn’t got you shot.

The hall door swished open again and Rung came quietly in to leave his innermost energon. He looked like he wanted to say something to Swerve, perhaps even comfort him, but he knew the protocol was to stay quiet when somebody's Conjunx Endurae was in in fate’s servos. Swerve could have invited him over, giving Rung permission to comfort him. After all, Rung was almost like a creator to you, but quite frankly, Swerve didn’t think he deserved to be comforted when all of this was his fault.

“What are you doing married to Swerve anyway? Don’t you know there are better mechs onboard this ship?”

Swerve could hear the cheesy 70’s music playing in his bar as if it was yesterday. He had briefly left you to grab some supplies from the back but when he heard Getaway say that, he remained hidden, knowing it was wrong to listen in on you like this, but needing to hear your response all the same.

“Please don’t talk about my husband that way,” You said, giving the overcharged mech a chance to back off and apologise before you ripped into him.

“Come on, he’s not even here right now,” Getaway guffawed, admittedly somewhat jealous that you loved Swerve instead of him, even though the two of you had hardly spoken before; Getaway always coveted that which he did not have. “He won’t hear what you really think about him.”

‘If only that were true,’ Swerve thought, though he still continued to eavesdrop.

“I mean, who would really notice if you and I just kind of slipped away right now to have some fun. You’ve got to have wondered what it would be like with another, more charming mech right?”

Swerve gulped, sure he was going to purge his tanks out of nervousness. He knew for a fact that most mechs considered Getaway to be charming and none considered him to be.

“Hmm,” you said thoughtfully. “You’re really good at sex?”

Swerve fell against the wall, wanting to claw out his audials, but frozen in place as the conversation continued.

“The best.”

“Good, then go fuck yourself, and never ever talk about my husband like that again. Swerve is ten times the mech you are.”

Giddy elation filled Swerve up and he rushed out from the supply closet, pretending he hadn’t heard a thing. He could have waited a little bit longer to compose himself, but he was afraid Getaway might be just overcharged enough to hurt you if you injured his pride any more than you already had. Getaway left irately and you turned your attention to Swerve who pretended he hadn’t heard a thing.

“What’s his problem?” Swerve asked casually, though he could hardly keep the giggle out of his vocaliser.

You shrugged, “Small man syndrome.”

“Huh? Okay, whatever you say, (Y/N).”

Before any more memories could torture him, the med-bay door finally opened and Ratchet stepped out, looking grimmer than ever. Swerve wanted to blurt out a million questions, but fearing for your life and knowing every second counted, he waited through the agonising seconds for Ratchet to speak.

“I have sent the medical team into the back so you and (Y/N) can spend some time alone, but I hope you are ready to face the consequences of what you have done Swerve. The lies you’ve told her – to everyone on this ship – will not go unnoticed.”

Swerve swallowed fearfully, “But she’s alive? She’s going to be alright?”

Ratchet considered the question before answering, “Physically, yes. Mentally however… Only time will tell. If you will excuse me, I’m going to join my team in med-bay two, where we will wait until you are ready.”

Swerve waited momentarily for Ratchet to back-track though the medical bay; it gave him a few minutes to compose himself and think of what he would say when he saw you. Then, forgetting his composure, he ran into the medical bay, stopping short when he saw you, in your new Cybertronian body. He knew there was a chance this would happen, but he had told Perceptor and Brainstorm to wait until they were sure your organic body couldn’t be saved.

Swerve looked to the bed across from you, where a sheet covered the corpse of your previous organic body. Why hadn’t he immediately told you about the mini-bot shell he’d had made? If he had, he knew the conversation ahead would be easier. All the same, your optics were offline and Swerve knew by instinct that Ratchet and the others had left them off to give him the chance to explain before you saw yourself.

Before he approached you, he took a few silent steps over to the organic corpse. He held the corner of the sheet that covered it, hesitating before he lifted it to look into your cold dead eyes. He needed to see this, to burn it into his memory of what his mistakes brought on. Granted, your mind and memories were still alive, but this mess of a cadaver that had been stitched up by servos inexperienced with organics, that still had patches of dried blood caked around the sealed wound, was his cross to bear.

Finally, when he could look at it no longer, Swerve covered the corpse with a sheet again, and moved to your side.

“(Y/N),” Swerve whispered.

You moved your head frantically to your left where he was standing, “SWERVE?! I- I CAN’T SEE- I CAN’T-”

Swerve grabbed your servo, “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m going to explain everything. What- What do you remember?”

You went quiet for a long time, thinking back to the bridge. Almost silently, you spoke, “I was shot.”

Swerve nodded affirmation, speaking aloud when he remembered you couldn’t see, “Yeah… That was it. (Y/N), I’m so, so sorry this happened to you. It was all my fault. I never should have put you through that. Uh- (Y/N), the docs here, they’ve been working on you for a really long time.”

“Swerve… Am I blind?”

“No sweetheart, that’s only temporary, I promise you’re not blind.”

“Then are you- are you in holoform? You hand feels so small, but it doesn’t feel like skin. Swerve, what’s wrong with me? Nothing feels right. I don’t feel real. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I feel all wrong inside.”

“Yeah, about that… (Y/N), I need to tell you something… Something I should have told you when we got married, and I need you to listen okay.”

“Okay,” You shivered, and coolant leaked from your offlined optics.

Swerve pressed his helm to your servo. “From the moment we wed, I was so scared something like this might happen… That you’d get hurt and I’d lose you. So, I had Perceptor and Brainstorm work on something, a- a new body of sorts. I- I was scared that you would think I was trying to change you, so I didn’t warn you about it, but now- Well, now you’re different.”

“Swerve,” You whimpered, “You’re not making sense.”

“I know… (Y/N), I’m going to sort out your eyes, make them work right, y’know. Please trust me, okay?”

It seemed you weren’t focusing on what he was saying, as you groaned, “My head hurts.”

Swerve sighed solemnly, then opened your head panel to reveal your processor. From there, he connected the wire that would allow you normal control of your optics. As your optics flickered to life, you caught a reflection of yourself and Swerve in the chrome wall across from you. Your previously human mind tried and failed to connect with the newer faster Cybertronian processor. You couldn’t make sense of what was happening. Swerve had his servos inside your head and all you could feel was numbness where you should have felt pain. Everything from your past and present crashed together in a way you couldn’t handle. Then, you screamed.

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