Transformers: Prayer

By Violetlight

Disclaimer:Transformers is not mine, though I wish it was. It’s the property of Hasbro, with the movie being made by Paramount. I’m simply borrowing these characters for my own twisted amusement. ;) However, Nightshade is mine, so please don’t use her without permission.

Author’s Note: This story forms a prequel, of sorts, to my first Transformers fic, Vapour Trails. To learn more about Nightshade, please read it too.

Also, the idea of the youth sector Floatila I’m borrowing from Lady Tecuma and Litahatchee, as it was used in their stories, Sparks and Plasma and Night Fire. My Floatila, however, has a little twist to it. Please read their excellent fics for the original idea.

Thanks to Lady Tecuma, Litahatchee and Thorn Queen (aka Hearts of Eternity) for listening to me go on and on about my ideas for Transformers, for beta-reading, and most of all, for being great friends. You ladies are the best!

Background song: “Prayer” by Disturbed

Part 1:Consort

Megatron took a small sip from his energon cube as he surveyed the scene before him. He observed with the optics of a warrior, a hunter, even in this celebratory environment. A great victory had been won over the Autobots at Floatila. The strike had been swift precision in itself; every one of his soldiers for once working like the well-oiled machine they were supposed to always be, his brother’s forces ripped to metallic shreds. He smiled, a predatory look that sent one of his soldiers, who had been approaching him astroseconds before, scurrying in the opposite direction. The Autobots had made their base – a purely military instillation – on the previous site of one of the most well-known Youth Sectors, the sparklings and their caretakers having been moved to safer locations vorns before. Nevertheless, if Megatron knew his brother, the master orator that he was, he would be hard at work spinning this bit of trivia to his advantage. He almost looked forward to seeing what idiotic story Optimus and his propagandists came up with for this one.

It would be some horrifying tale, carefully designed to transform the Decepticons into monsters in the optics of the few neutrals still stupid enough to not take a side. Something along the lines of Floatila still being a Youth Sector, making them out to be femme and sparkling killers – nothing better to enrage the ever-gullible masses. According to Soundwave’s latest reports, the Autobots had even begun to spread the rumour that the Decepticons wanted to wipe out all femmes and sparklings. Megatron had heard more plausible stories from his ever-dramatic Air Commander. With the Allspark out of his claws, for the moment, such an act would be stupidity itself. Where would he acquire new soldiers except from the numerous, though mostly unnoticed, Decepticon sparkling apprentices? Just because his people were not stupid enough to house all their young ones in easily-attacked facilities like formal schools did not mean they did not exist.

Ah yes, and femmes. Nowhere in his army would he find weak, whiny, pitiful, pink fools like those in his brother’s ranks. Here were some of his most cunning and vicious warriors, made all the more deadly by their need to prove themselves superior, not only to their Autobot counterparts, but to their Decepticon mech comrades as well. Megatron’s predatory gaze floated over his troops’ high-grade fuelled victory party, and focused on several of the femmes present.

He recognized Flamewar, a smaller femme with a lightcycle alt mode, an intelligent and resourceful scout. Numerous times, the intelligence she had gathered out alone in the field, with only her diminutive partner Rumble’s assistance, had been the deciding factor in victory or defeat. Megatron briefly wondered what other tricks her cunning CPU was capable of. Now, however, he could only see her legs; the black and white appendages currently wrapped around Barricade’s waist. The larger scout had his mate up against a wall as they obviously and shamelessly sparkscrewed, with only the shadows of their chosen corner passing as cover. Megatron just as shamelessly watched his scouts’ display of lust; it would be easy enough for him to claim Flamewar as his own. However, Barricade guarded her quite jealously. Megatron would not put it past the bad-tempered scout to challenge him for Flamewar, no matter how suicidal such a move would be. Barricade was one of his more reliable soldiers – it would be a shame to have to kill him over a femme, however tantalizing.

It would not be such a shame with his conniving Air Commander. Almost two thirds of the femmes in the Decepticon forces were Seekers, with their frames’ emphasis on speed and agility over brute strength being advantageous to fliers. Unfortunately, this meant they fell under Starscream’s command, who wasted no time taking advantage of the fact. He currently had not one, but two femmes under his wings – two of the Rainmakers, Cloudburst and Downpour – and was leading the pair back to his quarters. Thundercracker and Skywarp followed; no doubt they hoped to have some fun once their trinemate had finished. From the lustful looks the pale yellow femme and her sky-blue sister were sending them, they may not even have to wait that long. All he could see of the third Rainmaker, Stormbringer, was the occasional emerald green flash of her armour amidst a tangle of multi-coloured wings and thrusters he assumed were the Coneheads. Seekers … they’re like flying petro rabbits! If this continues, the base will become infested with Seeker sparklings … who would also fall under Starscream’s area of responsibility. With a knowing smirk, Megatron decided to leave the Seekers to their fun.

A loud ‘clang’ echoed over the other noises of the party then, followed by a familiar cackling laugh. Runabout and Runamuck were in the middle of an impromptu sparring match, the cackling coming from what they were fighting over: Fracture. Megatron knew her story well. Shortly after the war began, a small group of renegade Decepticons had separated from his main forces; their punk leader had actually dared to think himself superior to Megatron. It had been fun to slowly and painfully teach him otherwise and the other renegades had been quick to fall back into line. The two renegade lieutenants, of which Fracture had been one, had soon become two of his most loyal soldiers, even changing their designations to symbolically seal their allegiance. She was currently leaning against the leg of her former partner in crime, Blackout, scratching Scorponok’s optic ridges almost affectionately as she watched the Battlechargers fight. Knowing Fracture, she had led the two of them on, with absolutely no intention of giving either of the two dimwitted ground assault warriors what they wanted. Why would she, when it was obvious that Blackout was hers? Considering the loyalty and exceptional service both former renegades had given him, Megatron decided to leave the two alone. Even if Fracture wasn’t with Blackout, there was just something … unsettling about that cackling laugh of hers. It would be best to keep their relationship strictly professional.

He was slightly surprised to see Thunderblast here. She had been sent on an energy raiding mission on Aquaitos, and she still had the alt form of a watercraft common to the primitive organic natives, the halves of the boat forming a “shell” around the attractive femme. She specialized in combat in challenging environments such as liquid, usually water, oceans and the atmospheres of gas giant planets, so what was she doing back on Cybertron – besides every mech she could sink her claws into? He watched her run her hands teasingly up and down Brawl’s main cannon; the massive mech looked about two astroseconds away from shoving her up against the wall next to Barricade and Flamewar. Megatron would have to remember to order Shockwave to look into her unexplained presence later. He had enjoyed her attentions in the past, but knowing Thunderblast would just as eagerly give herself to any other mech who showed so much as a passing interest in her killed his. He was the Lord High Protector of Cybertron, Supreme Leader of the Decepticons. He deserved better.

His gaze then fell on a dark, rounded shape in another corner. Blackarachnia was an excellent assassin and saboteur, but she was about as trustworthy as Starscream. And that beast mode! Apparently, she had picked it up somewhere a few star systems over, a giant arachnid which not only terrorized the other organics on its homeworld, but also devoured its partners after mating. How appropriate. She was an attractive enough femme in her primary form, but was now apparently suffering from mode attachment (if suffering was the right word for it), only Transforming out of her beast mode when she absolutely had to. She turned her eight-eyed beast head and looked directly into Megatron’s optics. Was she daring him to approach? He returned her stare with a small smile. Perhaps later, it would be fun to remind this femme why he was Leader, but for now, he would prefer a mate who would not try to kill him.

Just thinking of Blackarachnia’s subtle treachery and Starscream’s more blatant brand started to cause glitches in his processors. It was with some relief that Megatron noticed one of the very few Decepticons he could trust enter the training yard. Soundwave was never one for parties; the dark blue communications officer strode purposefully towards the stack of energon cubes, a space-black, angular-armoured shape following. Megatron’s optics narrowed. It had been some time since he had last seen Soundwave’s young apprentice.

Like her master, Nightshade specialized in communications and intelligence, choosing the alt form of a stealth tetrajet, a variation on the Seeker design which focused on reconnaissance and ground assault over aerial combat. Its unusual geometry combined with unique polymer coatings made her invisible to Autobot scans. However, she was not invisible to him. No, it was quite apparent she was no longer a youngling quietly standing in Soundwave’s shadow. She was now a fully upgraded, adult femme … an unconventionally beautiful one at that. She was a respectful one as well. Despite the completely informal air of the victory party, she stood at parade rest behind Soundwave, patiently awaiting her master’s orders. With an unspoken command, she assisted Soundwave in gathering up a few energon cubes. The silent communication between the two hinted at their closeness, but it still had the formality of master and student. Megatron raised an optic ridge. He had expected Soundwave claim Nightshade as his mate as soon as she had upgraded, but he had not. Here was a femme who was skilled, loyal, and untouched, a true rarity among Decepticons.

The predator had found his prey.

“I’m tellin’ ya Bro, it’s not fair! Thunderblast turned me down! Thunderblast! It’s not like I was settin’ my standards that high,” Rumble complained. “She picked Brawl instead! I’ve got more processin’ power in my left piledriver than that slaghead has in his whole CPU!”

Frenzy looked up from polishing his shuriken. “If you wantwantwant, I can fiiiiiix that.” He aimed one of the star-shaped blades at Brawl’s head, across the training yard.

“A shruiken to the processor would give him an upgrade.” The bronze-gold mini ‘Con leaned back on his piledrivers, swept back from his shoulders like a pair of cylindrical wings, and crossed his short arms. “I can’t even remember the last time a femme would open her chassis for me!”

“How ‘bout nnnnnnever? Hehhehhehhehheh.”

“Mute it. Not everyone can get their kicks with the compu – hey! Watch it!” Rumble dodged the whirling blade sent spinning towards his head. “That’s it!” he tackled his smaller silver twin, and was about to reacquaint Frenzy with his piledriver when he stopped in mid-swing, recognizing a familiar dark blue shape walking across the yard. “Soundwave?”

Still struggling, Frenzy turned his head in the direction his brother was looking. It was Soundwave, and Nightshade too. The Twin Terrors had not seen their Creator and “little sister” for quite some time. Frenzy gave his brother one good shove, jumped up, and was about to scurry off when Rumble grabbed his shoulder.

“Wait an astrosec, Frenzy. Our little sis ain’t so little anymore, wouldn’t ya say?”

Frenzy snarled and let loose a burst of Cybertronian swearing. If Rumble was even thinking that, he’d meet whirling electric death at his claws, brother or not!

“No no no! Ya got the wrong idea! I was just thinkin’ that even if we can’t get any, there’s nothin’ sayin’ that Soundwave can’t.”

Frenzy looked at his brother, looked over at Soundwave and Nightshade again, and looked back, all eight of his ice-blue optics gleaming with mischief. “Annnnnd through our linklinklink to Soundwave…”

“… we’ll feel it too.” Rumble’s fire-red optics shone. “Commence Operation: Get Soundwave Laid!”

Nightshade shifted uneasily from one foot to the other as Soundwave examined the stack of energon cubes, her optics focusing in on the back of her master’s head, away from the licentious looks of the mechs scattered throughout the training yard. Feeling Soundwave’s silent command, she gathered up half of their small stack to bring back to their symbiotes. Laserbeak, Buzzsaw, Ravage, Ratbat and her own Waspinator would be happy for the energy after a victorious, but still tiring battle. She shuttered her optics; the feeling of her master’s CPU’s link to hers was reassuring, as she knew full well the power behind his mental touch. If any mech, still high on battlelust and now feeling a lust of a different kind, dared to bother her, Soundwave would barely have to look at him to scramble his processors so badly that he would think he was a glitchmouse. A frown crossed her faceplates; CPU hacking was the only one of Soundwave’s lessons she had not yet mastered herself.

Before she could dwell on that notion, she was interrupted by a familiar voice saying, “Hiya Nightshade!”

“Rumble!” She put down her stack of cubes and extended her arm, allowing the tiny Decepticon to scurry up to her shoulder. “What are you doing here? I thought you and Frenzy were with Flamewar and Barricade?” She spotted the silver twin similarly perched on top of Soundwave’s shoulder cannon, jabbering away to his Creator at lightning speeds.

“We are. They’re kinda busy at the moment.” Rumble jerked his thumb in the direction of one of the walls. Nightshade’s optical lenses expanded as she realized just what Rumble meant by “busy”.

She wanted to turn away, to not see the fervent look on Flamewar’s faceplates, her ruby optics half-shuttered in ecstasy as Barricade raked his pointed dental plates against a coolant line snaking down her neck, one of his clawed hands cupped around her thigh, holding her so close she seemed to melt into him. Flamewar clawed Barricade’s back armour, one hand buried underneath the jet-black plating, caressing the sensitive protoform below. Nightshade could not pull her optics away, especially as she saw a flickering blue-white light shining through the cracks in their armour, their Sparks merging together, the very primal essences of their beings becoming one …

“Like what ya see, don’t ya Sis?” Rumble’s voice was a low, almost seductive hiss. “Imagine that being you, with a certain blue hand playin’ with your ‘form, makin’ your Spark flicker …”

Nightshade jerked back, startled; Rumble had to grip her neck tightly to keep from falling off her shoulder. “Whoa, Sis! Calm down!”

“Calm down?! When you’re saying I … that I should … he’s my teacher!”

Rumble made a rude sound. “So? What are ya, an Autobot? Who cares?!”

“I care.” Nightshade said softly.

“Oh fer Spark’s sake!” Rumble groaned. “Look Shadie, dontcha think I can tell ya wanna push his ‘Play’ button?”

“Rumble! It’s not like that! He…I…I mean, we just can’t!”

“And why not? Yer not a lil’ sparklin’ anymore, Shade. Ya really think Soundwave hasn’t noticed? Maybe he’s just waitin’ to see what you want.”

Nightshade turned to look Rumble in the optics, who met her stare straight on; his optics held none of their usual mischievous gleam. Rumble was being serious, for once. Her gaze crept to Soundwave, a pillar of calm in the chaos of the party, quietly listening to Frenzy jabber on, showing a degree of patience that no other mech ever had with him, not even Barricade. Her CPU was whirling; private fantasies she had locked away deep in her processor, thinking them ridiculous, were resurfacing. She shuttered her optics again and felt for Soundwave’s familiar presence in her CPU. He was still there, as always, a slight touch, just enough to reassure her. If his passive mental presence felt this good, what would it be like to gaze into his wise, garnet optics and have him see her, not just as his student, but as a femme?

“Do you really think …?” Her words were a whisper she barely dared to say.

“It don’t take a CPU hacker to see yer both crazy fer each other. Soundwave’s just, well, ya know what he’s like,” Rumble shrugged his piledrivers. “He’s Soundwave. He’s not about ta force ya into somethin’ ya don’t want.”

“But I…I do want him. With all my Spark.”

Rumble smiled. Mission accomplished. “Was that so hard to admit, Shadie? Now, ya just gotta tell him that.”

“It’s not that easy Rumble…” she trailed off.

“Well, if ya need a practice run, I’m technically not your broth – hey!”

At his “suggestion”, Nightshade shrugged the mini ‘Con off her shoulder and grabbed him in midair by one foot. “You were saying?”

“Put me down!” Rumble crossed his arms and pouted, while still dangling upside down. “Thought ya was supposed ta be a ‘mature adult’ now?”

“I thought you were supposed to be helping me and your Creator, not yourself.”

“Hey, you’re one hot femme, Shadie. I’d do ya in an astrosec.”

Nightshade smirked. “It figures you wouldn’t have any stamina.”

“Whaa? Hey!” Rumble finally managed to wiggle out of her grasp, and landed flat on his face. “Ow.” He got up, and immediately stuck his little olfactory sensor in the air. “And who do ya think satisfies Flamewar when Barricade ain’t around?”

“I hope for your sake Barricade never catches you going on about your fantasies, little brother, or you’ll be stomped flatter than a minibot under Devastator’s foot!”

“Little?! I came online long before you, bratlin’!”

“Yeah, well I’m taller.”

“Frag you,” Rumble laughed as he somehow managed to lift a corner of one of the energon cubes. “Let’s get this stuff back to Soundwave’s quarters. I can hear
Ravage now, glitchin’ fer ya to hurry up. Really, I can! And by the way, Shadie,” he said as Nightshade gathered up the cubes. “Are ya still rechargin’ in that lil’ younglin’ berth?”

“Yes … why?”

“Not this cycle you ain’t! Me n’ Frenzy are stealin’ it! Yer gonna hafta make … other recharge arrangements,” Rumble grinned, and elbowed Nightshade right below her knee, the highest point he could reach. Unfortunately for him, that positioned him right in front of Nightshade’s foot.

Kick!

“Yeeaaahhh!” Rumble was punted through the air like a mecha-soccer ball, until he smacked into a large, solid, silver object. “Get outta my way, slag --” peeling himself off the floor, he started to swear at whoever was in his way, then stopped in mid sentence. “I mean, um, hi Boss!”

“Rumble.” Before Megatron had finished saying the mini ‘Con’s name, Rumble scurried backwards, as his “sister” dropped into as graceful a bow as possible while holding a stack of energon cubes, behind him.

“My apologies, Lord Megatron. I will retrieve Master Soundwave for you immediately.” Nightshade had expected the Lord High Protector to want to go over the previous battle with his Communications Commander as he usually did, and knew her role well: Get Soundwave, and get out of the way. What she did not expect was what Megatron said next.

“Actually, Nightshade, it’s you that I want.”