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Author’s Note: For the love of pizza, don’t argue with me about the units of time. Ninety-nine percent of the time, it’s BS. Even in canon. So there.
Stellar Cycle – One Year
Solar Cycle – One Day
Megacycle – One Hour
Nano-Klik – One Second
Obey
The attraction, as it often was, had been nearly instantaneous. A single glance at the brash young Autobot, and Ultra Magnus had felt something warm stir in his spark, sending a tingle through his systems that subsided after a brief, imperceptible shudder.
It wasn't particularly unusual, of course, to feel some kind of attraction to one who was still young, and so eager to fill his new role in the Elite Guard. Ultra Magnus had brushed it away along with all his other idle, illogical thoughts that would result in absolutely nothing at all.
However, to feel attraction was... unavoidable. And irrelevant.
As Ultra Magnus did not associate himself with anyone outside his work, he never did have the opportunity to consummate a relationship. Regrettable, perhaps, but he had no time, nor the availability to bond with another ‘bot. Furthermore, at his age, he felt it was impossible that any attraction would ever be reciprocated – especially since it was the general consensus among the younger recruits that he was just old scrap metal, and that it was inevitable that his place would be taken by one of the up-and-coming Primes.
If he did ever find someone who would return his attraction, it would be very much against the code to fraternize with someone under his command. It would create an unforgivable bias, and would certainly conflict with the nature of his work. Especially since, as the commander, he could be forced to send his potential lover to die in the line of action.
It simply wasn't conceivable that he could treat someone he intimately cared for as just another soldier. But these hypothetical scenarios were needless – he felt, at the time, that it would be impossible for him to ever feel more than a physical attraction to Sentinel.
This feeling was cemented into his processors even more when Sentinel opened his mouth and started to speak.
‘My name is Sentinel Prime,’ said the new subordinate, grinning at Ultra Magnus. ‘And I’m here because I’m the best.’
Ultra Magnus did not bristle in anger as those weaker would. He did not feel his spark warm in frustration. He did not allow another expression to permeate his stoicism. He did, however, pause for a long moment as he calmly considered his response.
‘You are only here because you mistakenly believe that you are the best,’ said Ultra Magnus. ‘But you have never fought in a war – and I can tell now that you have never once humbled yourself. If you wish to remain a soldier, then you will learn, Sentinel Prime.’
The first partner he was introduced to – who was luckily just on the brink of being transferred from his position as Ultra Magnus’ immediate subordinate – was a rather brash young Autobot called Hot Shot. Hot Shot was a good soldier, through and through. Certainly not leader material, but his ingenuity on the battlefield made him a valuable asset to the Autobot forces.
It only took one megacycle before Hot Shot and Sentinel goaded each other into a fight. The usually well choreographed style Hot Shot possessed was tossed aside for the sake of a childish brawl. It seemed that Sentinel Prime, in some misguided attempt to gain favor with his new teammate, had made several depreciating comments about Ultra Magnus himself. Perhaps in the boot camp, and not the Elite Guard, that behavior was acceptable.
Hot Shot made it quite clear that, in the Elite Guard, it was not.
Sentinel had been unaware that Hot Shot, while seeming as arrogant and self-involved as Sentinel was, was deeply loyal to his comrades and especially his leader.
‘I request a transfer,’ said Hot Shot as Ultra Magnus entered the medibay.
Hot Shot was cradling an injured wrist, and there were ugly dents in his armor plating from where Sentinel had fallen on him. However, Hot Shot did far more damage to Sentinel than he had been dealt.
The request for a transfer was deeply disappointing, but Ultra Magnus just nodded impassively. Hot Shot had to choose himself when he was ready to move onto his true purpose – none of Ultra Magnus’ comrades remained at his side indefinitely, and he did not treat them as if they were sparklings. The decision always rested with them.
‘I expected it would be at least another stellar cycle, perhaps even two,’ commented Ultra Magnus quietly. He had enjoyed Hot Shot’s company, his vast intelligence and bravery.
Hot Shot shook his head. ‘Maybe,’ he said, sounding as disappointed as Ultra Magnus felt. ‘But I can’t. I’m not going to work with Sentinel if he isn’t going to respect me, and especially if he doesn’t respect you.’
‘He hit me first,’ he pointed out for the umpteenth time.
Sentinel was still recovering in the medibay while Hot Shot gathered his belongings from his quarters. Hot Shot’s transfer would be completed by the time Sentinel was released from medical care – if Hot Shot had it his way, he’d never see Sentinel Prime again.
Ultra Magnus was rather convinced Hot Shot would feel better if he saw the sorry state he left Sentinel in.
Ultra Magnus frowned slightly. ‘I am not defending Hot Shot’s actions,’ he remarked quietly, and honestly. ‘This will be noted in his record, just as it will be in yours. A soldier of his caliber is above such foolishness.’
Sentinel shifted uncomfortably, then winced as he put too much weight on his twisted leg. Being that he was now a true Prime, Sentinel would not be coddled and the pain would not be dulled. There was a certain expectation for all higher ranking officers, a threshold for pain that was necessary for their line of work. Sentinel had not yet grown accustomed to the lack of sympathy for his injuries.
‘…Is he really going to transfer?’ asked Sentinel hesitantly, not quite meeting Ultra Magnus’ gaze.
‘The transfer has already been initiated – he will be gone by the time you return.’
Ultra Magnus took a seat near the berth Sentinel was sitting on, feeling weary. He had had so many comrades that served him diligently, honorably, and almost all that served under him were very successful when they left him. Sentinel Prime was successful as Sentinel Minor – quite successful. But would that extend to the duties of a Prime?
‘I am disappointed – he was supposed to remain under my command for some time. We have always worked well together.’ Ultra Magnus’ gaze did not waver from Sentinel. ‘He has an intuitiveness that many soldiers lack, and he feels that you will not thrive as Sentinel Prime. That perhaps your rank of Sentinel Minor was more befitting of your temperament.
‘Several have suggested that I demote you immediately for your insubordination – Hot Shot has a record of obedience and loyalty. You… have a penchant for trouble, from what I understand. A record for abusing your position, as well.’
Ultra Magnus paused. ‘I am also aware of what in particular began the fight,’ he remarked. ‘I believe you underestimated Hot Shot’s confidence in my ability to lead, despite my age.’
Genuine panic flitted through Sentinel’s face, and his antennas quivered tellingly. Ultra Magnus normally did not relish in scaring his comrades, but he felt some amount of satisfaction in seeing the childish arrogance fall away – if only for a few moments.
‘I will heed the opinions of my comrades,’ said Ultra Magnus. ‘But to the best of my ability, I will suspend my first impression of you. I will give you more time to find your place in this new role, Sentinel Prime.’
Sentinel’s optics were wide. ‘You’re not going to demote me?’
‘No,’ said Ultra Magnus. ‘I will not demote you. I believe that you have more potential than most would give you credit for. You have gained the rank of Prime because, despite your arrogance, you have done well during your service.’ Ultra Magnus felt himself soften slightly at the expression on Sentinel’s face. ‘I do not take those with an untarnished record under my command.’
‘Sir?’
‘I do not feel it is fair to judge a soldier on mistakes, nor to form an opinion before I meet them face-to-face,’ said Ultra Magnus. ‘Many of those I have personally worked with were referred to me only because no one else wished to take the time to help them reach their potential.
‘You are young, Sentinel Prime, and as I remarked before, you have never seen a true war. Your loyalty and your determination have never been properly tested. For your sake, and for the sake of the Autobots, I do hope you are never forced to face a Decepticon or see the kinds of wars I once saw. But I do believe I can prepare you for that contingency, nonetheless.’
Sentinel shifted awkwardly again, and grimaced in pain as he again put weight on the damaged limb. ‘Thank you, Ultra Magnus,’ said Sentinel in a hurried tone.
Ultra Magnus felt himself relax for the first time since he encountered Sentinel. It seemed that the Autobot did have the ability to humble himself – if only a small amount.
Finding another comrade to replace Hot Shot proved to be quite a trying endeavor. While Sentinel was in recovery, Ultra Magnus began to search out a new recruit. He had rarely interviewed when he had students referred to him – but for the first time, he felt it necessary to screen even single cadet, to see if they would be suitable for Sentinel’s company. This… became a deeply difficult task.
He found many he would have trained without a second thought before – many he had to deny, to disappoint, because he was aware that their personalities were not compatible with Sentinel’s.
Many were too honorable, and would not be able to tolerate Sentinel’s caustic attitude. Others were noticeably arrogant, and while they would likely find some sort of kinship with Sentinel, it would become dangerous for two hotheads to egg each other on. When an Autobot reached this rank, it was foolish to take those kinds of chances.
And then, finally, there was Mirage.
An Autobot of higher class, and one accustomed to encountering arrogance because of it, Mirage was an unlikely fit into their team. Mirage’s haughty attitude would rile Sentinel, but the illusionist’s own self-confidence – as well as his indifference to insults regarding his superiors – would make him more impervious to Sentinel’s jibes and his disobedience.
Ultra Magnus was certain he had never been so pleased to find such a snobbish individual in his ranks.
They did not notice Ultra Magnus’ presence, so he quickly backed into the hallway. The refueling station was mostly empty, and had thankfully been that way for many stellar cycles due to the lack of a war. There were medics and personnel loitering around, but not enough to impair his ability to hear his new comrades.
‘–kind of old, don’t you think?’ Ultra Magnus heard Mirage saying.
Sentinel made a derisive sound. ‘He’s not all that bad,’ he responded. ‘I mean, he’s done okay so far. Besides – he promoted us, didn’t he?’ Sentinel paused to take a drink of energon. ‘He’s doing something right.’
Ultra Magnus could hear the smile in Mirage’s voice. ‘You have a point.’
Still, it did… work, adequately. But Mirage’s progression far outweighed Sentinel’s. Enough so that Ultra Magnus was deeply aware that Sentinel should be undoubtedly demoted.
Still… his reluctance to do so seemed to grow with every passing moment.
Inevitably, the stellar cycle passed, and Ultra Magnus pretended not to notice that his self imposed time limit had finally run up, and it was now that he had to begin examining Sentinel Prime’s true potential. He still had difficulty with Sentinel Prime, and still had doubts that were significant – extremely significant. There was no doubt, however, that Mirage and Sentinel worked well together.
As well as could be expected, anyway.
On the anniversary of Sentinel’s induction into the Elite Guard, there were no celebrations. Most did celebrate, if only in some small way, but neither Ultra Magnus nor Sentinel Prime said a single word on the subject.
Ultra Magnus did not miss the way Sentinel’s shoulders tightened, and the way his antennas flicked nervously every time his name was spoken. He did not miss that Sentinel’s usual brash attitude had lessened as of late, and his voice had quieted when he spoke.
The first stellar cycle came and went, and neither spoke of it.
Being a Prime, Sentinel couldn't afford to be foolish. He had to know when to pull back and say he couldn't. He needed to have the ability to see his own skill set objectively in comparison to that of his enemy.
Sentinel needed to know when to stop.
Sentinel was unlikely to ever know when it was time to let go of his pride and draw back. He would require a great deal of work before he would ever be allowed to lead his own team, and Ultra Magnus was not particularly convinced he would have the patience to teach him. The Elite Guard was a vast section of the military, but Ultra Magnus personally only led one of two kinds of 'bots, and he usually had only two with him at any given time. He asked instructors to refer these kinds to him, usually one of each.
One that is exceptional (not flawless, but gifted), and one that is a problem.
Sentinel was, quite clearly, a problem. Three stellar cycles of training and his ego still hadn’t lessened.
Sometimes, it took a while for a problem to manifest itself when the 'difficult' subordinate in question was placed under his command. Their excitement at promotion often prompted them to be perfectly obedient for some time before they begin to slip into old habits. Some never changed – they took charge of their own difficulties, and were promoted out of his unit quickly to pursue better things. Others were more subtle about their problems when they knew Ultra Magnus was keeping an optic on them.
Sentinel… was blatant, and knew he was blatant, and yet he never stopped.
In the lesser training exercises that Sentinel had partaken in during his time in boot camp (as well as in his earlier training with Ultra Magnus), the ammo was harmless. The obstacle courses were dangerous but not fatal.
Things were quite different when one truly trained with Ultra Magnus – and when one progressed from basic training to advanced. After so long, Mirage grew restless with his abilities so hindered, and Sentinel felt he had something to prove.
Reluctantly, Ultra Magnus agreed to step up their training. They were soldiers, and they were both free to make their own decisions, even if he doubted them. Ultra Magnus was concerned for Mirage because the Autobot was more delicate than most – but Ultra Magnus was never a good judge of whether or not a spy was effective.
Ultra Magnus was concerned with Sentinel Prime for obvious reasons.
The turrets in this particular course did not fire full range missiles, but they did fire pulses of electricity. In small quantities, it was certainly not a fatal blow. It would be painful, and if the Autobot found himself cornered, the weapons could become more perilous.
This course in particular was much more sophisticated than most. It monitored a teammate and awarded points for well-executed maneuvers, and punished mistakes in the same manner. If a teammate managed to get a hold of a sphere – they were small, pale objects that bouncing haphazardly in the most dangerous areas of the course – the points increased exponentially. It was usually the objective of the course to capture at least one between the team. But, it was almost always a team effort.
And Sentinel was attempting it alone.
‘Sentinel Prime!’ snapped Ultra Magnus. ‘Fall back!’
Ultra Magnus was grappling with a mechanical creature, a spidery device that had a particularly painful bite. He did not have his hammer for the time being, so he fought it hand-to-hand. It prevented him from going to Sentinel.
The Prime ignored him, and when he caught sight of the sphere, he took off in a run. He could outrun the turrets – even if they were numerous – but he did not account for the other traps that might be lurking. Arrogant as he was, he believed he had encountered the worst of the danger. He hadn’t accounted for the machines that had been waiting for such a move, and immediately he was tailed by runners.
They weren’t particularly dangerous, in most situations. They were fragile, long-legged, and indeed very fleet – but a stronger ‘bot such as Sentinel could easily fight them off. If they managed to catch him, and they inevitably would, it would delay him well enough to let the turrets lock onto him. The enemy knew teamwork – but Sentinel did not. That was why he was about to fail.
Ultra Magnus threw off his own foe abruptly, but it was a heavy-set machine and would not back down so easily. His optics twisted to Sentinel too many times, and suddenly he found his thigh clutched in the jaws of the spider. He grunted, infuriated that Sentinel’s distraction had led to his own injury. The machine, however, was easy to handle once it had revealed a weakness – it had not bitten a vital area of his body, and he now had access to the head. He grabbed and twisted its shoulders, severing the head entirely. The jaws were still embedded in his thigh when he staggered to his feet and began after his idiotic Prime.
The runners, as expected, got to Sentinel first. They had overwhelmed him, tripped him in his hurry. Sentinel’s shield was the only thing between him and the turret fire at his right, and his left hand was blocking his throat. The runners sought to rip his fuel lines. One had grabbed his wrist and was pulling, the other was poised to strike.
Mirage got to Sentinel before Ultra Magnus did. The invisible Autobot clutched at the runner holding Sentinel and pulled it off – but now his location had been given away. A strong Autobot could hold off a runner well enough – but not an Autobot like Mirage, one who relied on secrecy, subtlety. Once he had sacrificed his own location to the runners, they were both on him in a moment’s notice, and the resounding shriek of pain and the crunch of metal indicated that Mirage had not won that particular battle.
Ultra Magnus was not fast, especially not when injured. He had no shield. Still, it was determination, it was friendship and loyalty that spurred him forward. The numerous turrets found him a laughable target and were quick to lock on him as he went to the others, but he pushed through the growing pain and destroyed the weak runners with his hands, tossing their scrap the side. Sentinel continued to cover behind his shield as the turrets fired at him.
Ultra Magnus found Mirage from the spilled oil on his invisible form, and – ignoring the continued blasts as well as he could – he gathered him up in his arms and fled. Sentinel followed.
The emergency exit was not far.
‘This course is not designed to be deadly, Sentinel Prime!’ said Ultra Magnus harshly, clutching Mirage’s prone from in his arms. ‘It is designed to teach teamwork! No Autobot – not even I – would go into a danger zone so carelessly!’
Sentinel was not looking at him. ‘Yeah, but–’
‘But nothing!’ said Ultra Magnus, limping. He could detect breaches in his armor. ‘After we take Mirage to medibay, you will be taken to the detention facility!’
He was not sure if he could hold himself true to that agreement any longer. Never had he felt so… betrayed by one of his comrades.
Ultra Magnus did not allow himself to become too emotionally invested in his team, because they were always fleeting. He kept tabs on those he felt the most proud of, but there was rarely direct contact outside of orders and the occasional debriefing.
He was very much aware that he had become emotionally invested in Sentinel Prime.
Ultra Magnus was not entirely certain what had caused him to feel this way. Sentinel’s difficulty drew out a great deal of frustration, and Ultra Magnus supposed that even a negative emotional response was still an investment, and he could not deny that Sentinel could get to him like no other he had worked with. He also felt, perhaps, that Sentinel had untapped potential.
Nevertheless, one thing was clear to Ultra Magnus now: Sentinel would not last in the Elite Guard without constant supervision, and Ultra Magnus was not convinced he could afford to watch him any longer.
He was restless. Mirage would be fine, and would even be taken out of stasis lock within the next megacycle. Ultra Magnus would recommend transfer for either Sentinel Prime or Mirage within the next solar cycle – he still had not determined which.
Idly, he reminded himself that Sentinel Prime’s time had run out. Logically, he was the correct choice.
Still, it was… difficult. Ultra Magnus had the same team for ten or fifteen stellar cycles before a transfer was deemed appropriate. It was, quite simply, disheartening.
Sentinel’s back stiffened at Ultra Magnus’ voice – it was clear he had been waiting for the other impatiently. Due to his placement in the detention facility, Sentinel Prime had spoken to no one since being incarcerated. It was appropriate punishment, as well as a way to give someone as hotheaded as Sentinel Prime time to consider his choice of words. It would determine now whether or not he would leave.
‘Ultra Magnus, sir,’ said Sentinel, quickly climbing to his feet to stand at attention. Due to his placement in a cell, it looked pitiful.
‘At ease.’
Ultra Magnus disengaged the force shield and stepped in, standing in front of Sentinel. He held up a hand before Sentinel attempted to speak.
‘You’ve been here before, haven’t you?’ said Ultra Magnus, looking around the dismal, yet sterile surroundings. It was a clean facility, but cold, precise.
‘Yeah,’ said Sentinel bitterly, averting his optics self-consciously. ‘Just once. I guess I don’t have to tell you what happened, do I? It’s on my record.’
Ultra took his seat on the berth, and gestured for Sentinel to do the same. The Autobot reluctantly did so, keeping well away from Ultra Magnus’ side. His hands were clenched on the edge of the berth tightly.
Ultra Magnus thought of Optimus Prime, and his recent transmission and disappearance. Sentinel’s demeanor had changed directly afterwards, and Ultra Magnus had never approached the subject with his subordinate. It was, quite frankly, not proper to do so. Yet, Ultra Magnus was well aware of Sentinel’s past, and well aware of why Sentinel must feel such a need for independence when he felt betrayed by Optimus’ unwillingness to return for Elita-1.
Sentinel had never stopped trying to slander Optimus’ name. Ultra Magnus kept silent on the subject, feeling it was unnecessary to argue something so sensitive – nevertheless, he was in agreement with Optimus’ decision, and felt that rescue had been impossible. Optimus had decided to rescue the Autobot that he could… and sacrifice the one he could not. Regrettable, but it was a mature decision for a young soldier.
Something that Sentinel could not, and would not wish to understand. Yet, Ultra Magnus was now aware that if Sentinel was ever to cooperate with him, they were going to have to breach the interlaying issues.
‘I would prefer if you told me yourself,’ said Ultra Magnus finally. ‘What happened to Elita-1?’
Sentinel Prime had enough tarnishes on his record to warrant a permanent demotion, yet Ultra Magnus took no such action against him. Mirage did not harbor ill will towards Sentinel – he remarked that he had not expected Sentinel to ever repay the favor, and that he had gone back for him simply because it was right. That was when Ultra Magnus was certain that Mirage needed no guidance from him, and had already learned the most valuable lessons that could be taught to a soldier. To do the right thing, to do the honorable thing, was what separated the Autobots from the Decepticons.
As expected, Mirage thrived in his new role. Ultra Magnus often heard good things from his superiors, commendations for a job well done, but Ultra Magnus could take no credit. He also heard from Hot Shot, from time to time – he was also doing well, and had carved a niche out in a training position himself.
Sentinel Prime was still where he had started. No better, no worse. Ultra Magnus reminded himself that such a limbo could not be eternal, although it still troubled him greatly. In the six stellar cycles he had spent with Sentinel Prime, he felt he had worked harder and more diligently to train than ever before, with no significant results.
Ultra Magnus patiently reminded himself that he had suffered worst things than just an irritating subordinate. He had no doubt it would be particularly trying, but a few more stellar cycles was not going to matter. That’s what he had told himself in the beginning.
It was... easy to believe that initially. As Ultra Magnus had unfortunately expected, this would be a more trying task than he could have possibly accounted for. Sentinel was obedient a great deal of the time now – but not in the humble manner he would have preferred. Sentinel had a severe difficulty keeping his bitter thoughts from his vocal processors, and Ultra Magnus quickly grew weary of chastising so frequently.
It was… trying. But oddly, he felt it would be almost impossible to withdraw from the challenge. So many stellar cycles were dedicated to Sentinel’s training that Ultra Magnus would feel he had failed if he gave up now.
Their dynamic, quite simply, did not work. It had never worked.
But Sentinel had a way of surprising him, now and then. While engrossed in meaningless datapads, reviewing records and court marshals that needed his attention, Sentinel saw fit to interrupt him. Not a rarity in itself – it was the subject matter that caught Ultra Magnus off guard.
‘Nine stellar cycles,’ said Sentinel, setting a can of high-grade on Ultra Magnus’ desk.
Ultra Magnus eyed the high-grade warily before turning his gaze to his subordinate. ‘Excuse me?’ he asked calmly, irritated to have been interrupted. Sentinel could be very distracting, and never seemed to have the manners to realize when his presence was unnecessary.
‘Since I met you,’ said Sentinel, smirking – yet somehow, even while he looked so smug, he seemed very uneasy. ‘I thought we should celebrate.’
Ultra Magnus was not entirely convinced this was not an attempt to get him over energized for his own humiliation. However, one can of high-grade was not nearly enough to do anything of the sort – Ultra Magnus had never been particularly easy to over energize – he utilized everything he consumed, in some way, and nothing was ever left to affect his circuits in such a manner.
Ultra Magnus felt somewhat at a loss. ‘As much as I would like to celebrate,’ he said, trying to keep the disbelief from his voice. ‘I do not believe it in appropriate at the current time. I still have work to do.’
Immediately, Ultra Magnus felt a pang of remorse – but he brushed it away. It was illogical. Any attempts at socializing casually with Sentinel Prime would be met with failure, and would only leave them both awkward and frustrated.
Still, Sentinel seemed disappointed. ‘Maybe next time, huh?’ he said.
Sentinel was never one for grace in the face of disappointment. He walked out of the office a bit louder and more deliberately than normal, and his hands were clenched. Luckily, he did not blow up at Ultra Magnus over the perceived insult.
Ultra Magnus sighed to himself, leaning back in his chair, his work utterly forgotten. It only occurred to him afterwards that Sentinel had been, in his own way, trying to reach out for him. Bravely, even, as the subject of how long they had worked together was a dangerous one – both of them knew Sentinel should not have been here as long as he had.
In the beginning, the other commanders believed it was… pitiful, perhaps, how many other soldiers Sentinel watched come and go while he remained ever at Ultra Magnus’ side. Several others of high command remarked on Sentinel’s shortcomings when they thought he couldn’t hear (and oftentimes, when he could), but Ultra Magnus still did not release him from his service.
It was true that Sentinel Prime had not progressed in the time he was with Ultra Magnus – it anything, he’d digressed further as of late. As time drew on, Sentinel seemed to be growing comfortable with his role, as if that was his purpose, as if it was designed to be permanent. Ultra Magnus was growing exhausted of this, and his inability to train others. Ultra Magnus had not felt he had achieved anything since Mirage left. Very soon, Ultra Magnus needed to take on another subordinate. He needed to see progression, growth, and feel satisfaction rather than frustration when he trained.
It became more worrisome when Sentinel began to express more interest in sparring than teamwork. Before now, Sentinel had enjoyed field work more than anything else until now (at the lesser training courses – Sentinel had been banned from the advanced courses permanently after the incident with Mirage).
Sparring was a more sensitive issue than field work, as it honed a violent nature towards a teammate. It was acceptable in some cases, but in this case, Ultra Magnus could not ignore that there was a definitive lack of trust between them.
‘Sparring is training of Decepticon origin,’ responded Ultra Magnus coldly. ‘Autobots believe in teamwork and trust above all else. What could you gain from sparring with me?’
Sentinel Prime shifted uncomfortably before he spoke. ‘I’m bored, sir,’ he said conclusively. ‘I have been doing nothing but obstacle courses since I met you, and I’m not going to learn anything else from it. I want to do more.’
Ultra Magnus frowned. ‘You do realize that sparring is a matter of great trust,’ he said.
‘I trust you, sir,’ said Sentinel. It sounded quite honest, which was surprising, considering.
There was no way to debate that – Ultra Magnus did not wish to question him, no matter his own personal feelings. If Sentinel believed that, then he would have to prove himself.
‘Very well,’ said Ultra Magnus, climbing to his feet. ‘Come with me.’
Sentinel got the better of him. It was surprised to him to find that Sentinel’s self-serving behavior attributed to his success in this situation. However, his forcefulness – while useful – served only to overbalance himself as well as Ultra Magnus. It was not a recommended tactical move to ever brawl with an enemy on the ground – the inability to find a center of balance was most often more dangerous than not. However, all these points became generally unimportant when Ultra Magnus found himself uncomfortably pinned beneath Sentinel’s weight.
It was odd, firstly, that this seemed to suddenly determine the end of the fight between them. Both were still, and silent. It was something that Ultra Magnus would normally praise in Sentinel – a rare sense of… stillness.
Except, that was an unfit description – neither were calm. Their optics did not meet, both staring idly at something unrelated to their current situation. Their chests, pressed firmly together now, were uncomfortably warm.
Ultra Magnus found himself thinking of the first time he met Sentinel, and how he found him attractive. Initially, he believed it was an odd thing to remember now, so many stellar cycles after the fact – he thought that whimsy had been irrelevant. Quite suddenly, he found it difficult to forget all the features he had attributed to Sentinel’s attractiveness.
There was a shift, and their chests were pressed squarely together – close enough to share the warmth of their sparks. The electricity was beginning to tingle between their metal, sending slivers of pleasure through his most vulnerable internal wiring.
Ultra Magnus emitted a sound, quiet but deep. Sentinel response was somewhat more strained, something between a moan and a whimper, thin and perhaps even unimaginably nervous. The sound struck something in Ultra Magnus’ spark, releasing a heat, a possessiveness and desire he had not known he held for his subordinate. The intensity was just as shocking. He could not convince himself this lust was instantaneous, only developing now because of their situation. It was undoubtedly something he had been repressing for some time.
Ultra Magnus could not be certain who moved first. Sentinel leaned down as Ultra Magnus eased himself up, and their mouths touched softly.
At first, that was all it was – a tactile connection, a test. Neither withdrew from one another. Ultra Magnus silently considered the rules concerning fraternization, especially for one under his direct command. He thought of how it would be particularly negative in the context that he might possibly be influencing Sentinel with his greater rank.
That wasn’t true, but if anyone found out about this, if anyone knew this was happening without any contextual knowledge of their relationship… Ultra Magnus supposed that yes, it seemed like he was exerting his power over Sentinel for his own gratification.
Yet, despite an undoubtedly mutual attraction…would that be particularly far from the truth?
The moral implications of what was happening quickly became less relevant. Sentinel, realizing that Ultra Magnus was not pulling away, not resisting, exerted the lustful vitality he had evidently stored within his spark. The kiss quickly grew more passionate, Sentinel’s glossa slipping past his parted lips and twining around Ultra Magnus’ warmly. The kiss was returned at a slower, more languorous pace – Ultra Magnus patiently licked and traced the unfamiliar mouth. Sentinel emitted an impatient whimper, and Ultra Magnus’ hands gripped Sentinel’s sides tightly in response.
Sentinel hands likewise gripped tightly at the seams his commander’s chest to seek out any exposed wires he could reach. Sentinel was surprisingly skilled, for someone who had not done this recently –Ultra Magnus knew that Sentinel had indeed not bonded since being under Ultra Magnus’ command. Ultra Magnus was not certain if he ever had.
Sentinel’s fingertips scraped dexterously over circuitry that Ultra Magnus never knew was particularly sensitive, yet his sensors were alight with pleasure. The pressure, the speed, was exactly what he wanted, what he needed – every caress made him squirm and kiss Sentinel a little more urgently, a little more demandingly.
Logically, he knew that Sentinel must have a great deal of knowledge on what brought pleasure and what did not – this indicated that Sentinel was very intimately aware of what he himself enjoyed, and was utilizing the knowledge of his own body to give Ultra Magnus pleasure.
The thought itself was… deeply enticing. Self overload was not particularly rare, it was simply a pleasure that Ultra Magnus himself did not indulge in. It was, however, deeply arousing to imagine that Sentinel did. It was ludicrous as well as egotistical to wonder if Sentinel fantasized about him while in the midst of self overload, yet Ultra Magnus was nevertheless curious.
Following Sentinel’s example, Ultra Magnus began to allow his hands to wander across the warm frame, dipping into the same areas that Sentinel himself saw fit to manipulate. He scraped his fingertips along the broad lines of Sentinel’s chest, pausing to rub along the lines of his armor plating. After a few moments of silent urging, the plating loosened, allowing Ultra Magnus access to the more delicate protoform hidden beneath.
A seam on the side of Sentinel’s chest proved to be the most accessible, and Ultra Magnus patiently eased his fingers into the space, lifting the armor so his hand could slide beneath almost entirely. He caressed along the bundles of wiring lightly until he isolated the areas of most pleasure. The indications were very clear to him – a groan or a sigh would escape Sentinel, his body would tense, and his spark would pulse faster and warmer against Ultra Magnus’ chest. He was incredibly responsive to tactile stimulation. A few light pinches in the correct areas, and Sentinel was squirming helplessly against Ultra Magnus’ hand.
Feeling surreally calm despite the circumstances, Ultra Magnus began to wonder if he could bring Sentinel to overload without initiating any form of interface. He wondered if his touch against a few choice areas of Sentinel’s quivering form would stimulate his spark enough to actually give him sensory overload. His fingers drifted deeper inside, his other hand following the broad line of Sentinel’s chest all the way down to his legs. Ultra Magnus seemed to recall that there were several power routers in this area of the body, sending a great deal of electricity into the legs themselves. Several times in his life, Ultra Magnus had injured his legs, and these routers were usually the source of the most excruciating agony. Idly, he wondered if that was indicative of great sensitivity.
Intent on finding out, Ultra Magnus traced Sentinel’s thigh until he discovered a weak area at the inner junction of the thigh and the hip, a space he could wriggle his fingertips into. He curled his hand around until he found the first power circuit – it shocked him painlessly when he touched it.
Sentinel groaned, loud and deep. He buried the sound into another kiss. His glossa tingled against Ultra Magnus’ with soft vibrations as the low noises of pleasure continued to rumble through his vocalizer.
A shudder ran through Ultra Magnus’ frame, his spark warming exponentially. He could feel coolant being automatically released to combat the threat of overheating, but he wasn’t certain it would be enough. His armor audibly clicked as it began to gradually loosen, allowing the heat to escape.
Sentinel wasted no time in burying his hands beneath Ultra Magnus’ armor, clenching down on power cables and wires until the strain and the pleasure became almost too much to bear. Ultra Magnus pulled away from the kiss to bite sharply against Sentinel’s shoulder, his optics shuttering when the visual input only became an indefinable jumble of data in light of such overwhelming ecstasy.
The touches became more frenzied as they continued, less calculated. Teasing caresses became desperate clutches, and the explorative kisses evolved into harsh, uncoordinated expressions of lust and frustration. But somehow, even within the desperate, blind struggle, they created a rhythm between their sparks. Their chests pressed together tightly, heat and electricity exchanging despite the impossibility of interface in this position. It was more than enough.
Their overloads were nearly simultaneous. The heat and electricity flourished between their chests, both clutching each other tightly, faces pressed together as the waves of ecstasy pulsed from the centre of their sparks to every circuit in their bodies.
Ultra Magnus sank back against the floor wearily, his optics opening just enough to watch Sentinel press enthusiastic nips and kisses along his shoulders and chest. Sentinel’s hands were still exploring Ultra Magnus’ weak points, tracing his tingling wires and tugging at the overheated power cables.
With ever touch and caress, there were little jolts of electricity that permeated his exhausted haze, extending the pleasure of overload. He moaned, and Sentinel only seemed more eager to please him.
Ultra Magnus was in no state to deny Sentinel’s possessive behavior, nor did he particularly wish to do so. His own hand reached up to idly traced Sentinel’s shoulder – he could scarcely conjure the energy to even do that much.
‘I think we should spar more often,’ said Sentinel against his audio receptor. ‘Don’t you think?’
Ultra Magnus made a soft, amused sound, but didn’t respond. He shuttered his optics and brushed his face against Sentinel’s. He wasn’t certain which thought was more disturbing to him – the prospect that they may do this again, or that prospect that they may never do this again.
The intimacy between them continued, frequently. Ultra Magnus did not necessarily approve of his own decision to allow it to progress, but it was undeniable that it was having a positive effect on Sentinel’s training. He had progressed more in just a few solar cycles than he had in all the stellar cycles he was under Ultra Magnus’ command.
They never spoke of their intimacy – they never acknowledged it. It was simply something that occurred, and Ultra Magnus was almost positive it was something that only he himself initiated. The signal was indefinable – it was a look, or perhaps some unknown gesture that made it clear that it was acceptable to him at the present time. They often sparred – and oftentimes they did without it evolving into anything more than that. Sentinel did excel at sparring, and Ultra Magnus was certain that he needed to have another comrade that was more apt to keep up with him. Sentinel usually wore Ultra Magnus out well before he exhausted himself.
However, it was admittedly quite pleasing to have Sentinel soothe his wearied body after a sparring mach. That particular intimacy did not always lead to overload.
Ultra Magnus was not prepared to consider the ramifications, but he would – in time.
For now, Ultra Magnus saw fit to develop this newfound sense of loyalty. The training sessions were successful, and their bondings only became more passionate and more pleasurable with every passing overload. They learned what pleased one another, and they memorized each other’s circuitry and most sensitive wiring. As their knowledge deepened, and as their vulnerability increased, it was inevitable that trust would eventually form between one another.
And it had – for the first time, Ultra Magnus felt a great sense of trust in Sentinel Prime.
There was an inherent danger, however, in Jazz’s presence. The nature of Ultra Magnus’ relationship with Sentinel was, thus far, still a secret – and would hopefully remain so. They would have been suspected as having an affair (and they likely already were) if Ultra Magnus neglected to recruit another comrade for too much longer.
But for now, they had Jazz in their company. Laid back and gentle – but fierce in the heat of battle – Jazz coped well with Ultra Magnus’ coldness and Sentinel’s arrogance. Nothing seemed to faze him in any manner.
It was still uncomfortable to rest after overload with the knowledge that they could be discovered. Even the pleasure of Sentinel’s body against his own did not soothe his mind.
Sentinel, quite honestly, did not seem to understand the gravity of their relationship, or how precarious everything would become if they were discovered. Sentinel didn’t seem to think that far into the future.
For now, Ultra Magnus would not allow his own concern to prevent their intimacy. While Sentinel’s progress was likely not worth the risk, Ultra Magnus was unwilling to give up what had been gained.
The danger, for now, would be disregarded.
‘Yes?’
Sentinel grasped Magnus’ arms tightly, pulling him into a position where he could look up at Sentinel clearly. Before a question could escape his vocalizer, Sentinel leaned down and kissed him. It was firm, lingering, but Sentinel did not initiate anything more intimate.
When he withdrew, he began to walk to the door as if no explanation was needed.
It was startling. Sentinel had never initiated without being given a clear signal to do so – his boldness might be more indicative of a growing rebelliousness. If that was the case, then there was certainly cause for alarm.
‘Sentinel Prime,’ said Ultra Magnus, at a loss. ‘What–’
Sentinel looked back at him. ‘Ten stellar cycles,’ he responded, smirking broadly.
It was the only explanation he needed.
Sentinel left the office after that, entirely missing the surprised look on Ultra Magnus’ face. Ten stellar cycles and Sentinel was still there – and would remain for many more.
Ultra Magnus smiled. Perhaps, just this once, Sentinel’s rebellious nature was forgivable.
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