[Fic] Chaos: Pride 1
Sequel to Chaos came with a bang. Big thanks go to Gilded Orchid whose assistance means this was ready for today - and go read her Trinkets, it deserves more love!
Summary: Sometimes Starscream's pride isn't at all good for him...
A/N: This fic is darker than Chaos, being on the Decepticon side and things are Not Happy over on the Nemesis. Mostly not graphic, but plenty of suggestion. Read cautiously.
Warning: dubious consent, abuse
Chapter 1
One finger dragged deliberately along the Seeker's wing edge, teasing the sensitive nodes there, trying to wring another moan from him. Tired as he was, he clamped his jaw defiantly shut and kept silent. That garnered a low sound of approval from his tormentor and the finger was joined by a thumb that rubbed along the lower edge and made his spark ache as the sensations forced his systems to start heating again.
Again. Primus save him, this was the fifth time in this session. Warnings flashed up on his HUD pointing out things that he dared not acknowledge so he just dismissed them unread. Meanwhile, the hand reached the very tip of his wing, briefly cupping the joint tenderly and warming it, sensitising it... then abruptly clamping down savagely and wrenching it out of alignment.
The pain made him shriek and he jerked reflexively away only to collide with something solid. His tormentor was expecting the reaction and moved with him, still crushing the joint in one strong fist and simultaneously shoving a cable into the exposed input port just above his spark chamber. He could feel fluid streaming down his wing, tickling the sensors there, and his internal systems had begun to shut down in protest for the prolonged abuse. And then, in spite of his best efforts, his self-preservation programming took over and slammed up firewalls to protect him against the intrusion.
The response was immediate: back-handed hard so that he slammed against a wall and crumpled to the floor. Taunts followed about his weakness, his inability to control his own systems, but they barely registered. His processors had begun to stutter, blanking out randomly, leaving him with a fractured impression of what was happening: another vicious kick; a callous laugh; footsteps leaving; footsteps arriving; sharp pain as rough hands investigated his wounds, then Primus-blessed darkness as he finally went completely offline.
Skywarp was not on duty but was lurking in the command room when Starscream finally emerged from Megatron's office a full two groons after the warlord had left, and more than five breems since Soundwave had gone in and then left. In the reflection of a darkened monitor, he studied his trinemate's condition with an experienced optic. The Air Commander's wings were drooping with fatigue and pain, several new patches of temporary plating welded clumsily over sensitive points on his torso and helmet and even on one wing joint. This last made Skywarp wince slightly in sympathy but he continued his silent assessment. There was also a large dent in Starscream's left audial, pressing the armour uncomfortably into his cheek, but the mech seemed oblivious to it, as he staggered out without a word. He was a mess and everyone could see it, but no-one would say a word about it to his face. No-one ever did.
Sometimes it happened after a victory. They would all be getting overcharged on rare rations of high grade, and then Megatron would summon Starscream to his office for a debriefing. More often it happened after a defeat, when everyone was ducking for cover and trying not to call any attention to themselves. Occasionally it happened with no warning at all. What was clear, though, was that it was happening far more often now that they were stuck here on Earth on short rations and confined within this tiny, claustrophobic base.
Earlier in the orn, he and Thundercracker had been sunning themselves on a small island just south of the base. They could convert sunlight into energy and sunbathing did wonders for their frequently undercharged systems, so when the weather was fine and there were no missions on the go most of the Decepticon forces could be found dotted around the local atolls. It was probably not clever, but it was one of the few pleasures they had on this disgustingly dirty planet, and so far the stupid Autobots had not caught on to it.
What had made today unusual was Starscream deigning to join them. Usually he chose to be alone - in part to protect them, Skywarp knew - but he had actually been the one to suggest it today. It had been quiet for orns following two moderately successful missions and Megatron was due to be away for joors at some new project site with the Constructicons. Pleased, Skywarp had hauled out his paints and had touched up his wing leader's detailing, and even Thundercracker's perpetual gloom had been banished by the sunshine and and the uncommon satisfaction of being a full trine for once. And then Starscream had surprised them by returning the favour for each of them.
"What?" the red and white Seeker had demanded, delicately applying the black paint without getting the slightest smear on himself. "You think I'll put up with scruffy jets flying in my trine?"
It was a very Starscream comment, but without the stinging sarcasm that so often characterised his speech nowadays. This was the Starscream of old: teasing but not cruelly; self-assured but not overbearing; confident but not supercilious; smugly superior but not arrogant to a fault. And then the call had come and a shadow had passed over his expression. And then he was gone.
Most of the Decepticon forces believed Megatron liked to tear his Air Commander apart as a hobby as much as for stress relief, and there was probably some truth to that. A few whispered snidely that the unscheduled meetings were also trysts, and they were not entirely wrong either. But there was something more, something worse, something that Starscream wouldn't talk about, so the details were left to Skywarp's imagination. Not that it was that hard to guess.
Time after time, Starscream returned from these beatings with injuries that were meant to humiliate as much as to hurt. Time after time, the formerly fearless trineleader woke screaming from his recharge. Gradually, Megatron was wearing him down into submission and yet Starscream refused to do anything about it. He wouldn't discuss it with his trine, and even seemed to welcome the abuse.
Only an orn earlier, Starscream had been left so overcharged that he blew fuses in his CPU and needed his trinemates to replace them; his pride would not permit him to show such injuries to Hook. Skywarp found himself wondering uneasily what would happen if the safeties ever failed to kick in and the stress blew out one of Starscream's processors altogether. Was that what Star was wanting? To escape that way? It was not a pleasant thought so he dismissed it as soon as it occurred to him, and refocused on the the image of his hobbling wingmate. Starscream was on his pedes, however unsteadily. Everything was normal.
"Hey TC! You down here?"
Thundercracker looked up but could see nothing over the junk pile he was half buried in so he just called back.
"Over here, Warp. Give me a hand?"
There was a pause, then Skywarp poked his head around the side of the pile.
"What've you found?"
Thundercracker subspaced the small bundle of CPU fuses he had located - the sight of them would only upset Skywarp - and nodded to a wide girder.
"Not sure yet. Lift there?"
This cargo hold had become the storeroom for all of Megatron's failed experiments. The Constructicons regularly raided it to build whatever project he wanted next, but since nothing was in any particular order and the parts tended to be mostly slagged anyway they quickly lost patience and just demanded new materials. Mechs with a little more tenacity could stock up with useable parts to bribe the Constructicons with to see themselves repaired well after the next battle. A worthwhile effort, since there was always another battle.
"He's out." Skywarp blurted suddenly.
Thundercracker tensed in spite of himself. The whole point of coming down here now had been to distract himself from what was probably going on up in Megatron's command room, but now the worry was back in full force.
"And?"
"He came out on his own pedes. Was heading back to recharge last I saw him. Pretty sure he made it, too: Soundwave was in a meeting with Megatron and Astrotrain."
Soundwave was usually the worst threat after one of these sessions. The Communications Officer seemed to delight in finding work to keep Starscream away from his recharge berth when he needed it most. More than once, he and Skywarp had had to rescue the dazed Air Commander from some inane task before he fell into stasis lock, something that was always risking punishment for themselves if they were caught. At least that would not happen this time.
"What's he need?"
Skywarp shrugged, then hefted the girder a little higher.
"Damage didn't look too bad this time. Self-repair'll probably sort it out, I think. Dents and gouges mostly, but there was a bit of energon on his wing. His equilibrium's shot, but I guess it'll come right after some charge time."
Once, Thundercracker mused, he would have gone rushing back to their quarters at that description, horrified by the injuries and demanding an explanation. No longer. He had learned that it was better not to interfere, and the explanation was nothing he needed to ever hear again; hearing it the first time had been hard enough.
The physical damage had occurred over vorns, infrequent but not unheard of. But that first time Starscream had had to be carried back to their quarters, trembling with shock, he had been too traumatised to lie to them when they had begged for an explanation for why he refused to go to a medic: Megatron was forcing a one-way interfacing on him. He did not use those words, but that was the heart of it. Of course, there were programs and defences and firewalls which prevented any such thing ever happening, but Starscream was expected to override those so that Megatron could take his pleasure as he wished. And for some reason that he was not willing to share, Starscream had complied.
It was a torture that no Autobot prisoner had ever suffered. Even reprogramming and rewiring would not do it: the only way to keep those defences at bay was for the mech involved to choose to override his own systems. Mutual connection into the other's interface port would prolong it so long as it was pleasurable, but normally the connection would break automatically if either side were uncomfortable. What Megatron was asking was on the absolute edge of any mech's control, and beyond most.
On the surface, Thundercracker could almost understand. This was something that Starscream could offer Megatron that no-one else could or would. But what had made him attempt it in the first place? What did he get in return that was worth the repeated violations? And why did Megatron keep getting more violent with it? One of these orns, the damage was going to be irreparable, and then what?
"Mission coming up?" he asked, trying to change the subject as he continued to sift through the crushed components under the girder.
He thought he had seen something valuable here when he had been down here a few orns earlier, but now he could not see it. Perhaps Scavenger had already taken it?
"Not yet. Not that I heard."
"We need more energon."
Skywarp muttered something that included Starscream's name, but Thundercracker had stopped listening, spotting what he was after.
"A converter cell! Perfect!"
Grinning at his wingmate, he held up the item. This would buy them both full overhauls if they needed them, and in the meantime would help them convert just a little more raw material into energon that they could use. Worth a beating if they were caught, but a matter of survival as things were now. Yes, today was turning out quite well after all.
Summary: Sometimes Starscream's pride isn't at all good for him...
A/N: This fic is darker than Chaos, being on the Decepticon side and things are Not Happy over on the Nemesis. Mostly not graphic, but plenty of suggestion. Read cautiously.
Warning: dubious consent, abuse
Chapter 1
One finger dragged deliberately along the Seeker's wing edge, teasing the sensitive nodes there, trying to wring another moan from him. Tired as he was, he clamped his jaw defiantly shut and kept silent. That garnered a low sound of approval from his tormentor and the finger was joined by a thumb that rubbed along the lower edge and made his spark ache as the sensations forced his systems to start heating again.
Again. Primus save him, this was the fifth time in this session. Warnings flashed up on his HUD pointing out things that he dared not acknowledge so he just dismissed them unread. Meanwhile, the hand reached the very tip of his wing, briefly cupping the joint tenderly and warming it, sensitising it... then abruptly clamping down savagely and wrenching it out of alignment.
The pain made him shriek and he jerked reflexively away only to collide with something solid. His tormentor was expecting the reaction and moved with him, still crushing the joint in one strong fist and simultaneously shoving a cable into the exposed input port just above his spark chamber. He could feel fluid streaming down his wing, tickling the sensors there, and his internal systems had begun to shut down in protest for the prolonged abuse. And then, in spite of his best efforts, his self-preservation programming took over and slammed up firewalls to protect him against the intrusion.
The response was immediate: back-handed hard so that he slammed against a wall and crumpled to the floor. Taunts followed about his weakness, his inability to control his own systems, but they barely registered. His processors had begun to stutter, blanking out randomly, leaving him with a fractured impression of what was happening: another vicious kick; a callous laugh; footsteps leaving; footsteps arriving; sharp pain as rough hands investigated his wounds, then Primus-blessed darkness as he finally went completely offline.
Skywarp was not on duty but was lurking in the command room when Starscream finally emerged from Megatron's office a full two groons after the warlord had left, and more than five breems since Soundwave had gone in and then left. In the reflection of a darkened monitor, he studied his trinemate's condition with an experienced optic. The Air Commander's wings were drooping with fatigue and pain, several new patches of temporary plating welded clumsily over sensitive points on his torso and helmet and even on one wing joint. This last made Skywarp wince slightly in sympathy but he continued his silent assessment. There was also a large dent in Starscream's left audial, pressing the armour uncomfortably into his cheek, but the mech seemed oblivious to it, as he staggered out without a word. He was a mess and everyone could see it, but no-one would say a word about it to his face. No-one ever did.
Sometimes it happened after a victory. They would all be getting overcharged on rare rations of high grade, and then Megatron would summon Starscream to his office for a debriefing. More often it happened after a defeat, when everyone was ducking for cover and trying not to call any attention to themselves. Occasionally it happened with no warning at all. What was clear, though, was that it was happening far more often now that they were stuck here on Earth on short rations and confined within this tiny, claustrophobic base.
Earlier in the orn, he and Thundercracker had been sunning themselves on a small island just south of the base. They could convert sunlight into energy and sunbathing did wonders for their frequently undercharged systems, so when the weather was fine and there were no missions on the go most of the Decepticon forces could be found dotted around the local atolls. It was probably not clever, but it was one of the few pleasures they had on this disgustingly dirty planet, and so far the stupid Autobots had not caught on to it.
What had made today unusual was Starscream deigning to join them. Usually he chose to be alone - in part to protect them, Skywarp knew - but he had actually been the one to suggest it today. It had been quiet for orns following two moderately successful missions and Megatron was due to be away for joors at some new project site with the Constructicons. Pleased, Skywarp had hauled out his paints and had touched up his wing leader's detailing, and even Thundercracker's perpetual gloom had been banished by the sunshine and and the uncommon satisfaction of being a full trine for once. And then Starscream had surprised them by returning the favour for each of them.
"What?" the red and white Seeker had demanded, delicately applying the black paint without getting the slightest smear on himself. "You think I'll put up with scruffy jets flying in my trine?"
It was a very Starscream comment, but without the stinging sarcasm that so often characterised his speech nowadays. This was the Starscream of old: teasing but not cruelly; self-assured but not overbearing; confident but not supercilious; smugly superior but not arrogant to a fault. And then the call had come and a shadow had passed over his expression. And then he was gone.
Most of the Decepticon forces believed Megatron liked to tear his Air Commander apart as a hobby as much as for stress relief, and there was probably some truth to that. A few whispered snidely that the unscheduled meetings were also trysts, and they were not entirely wrong either. But there was something more, something worse, something that Starscream wouldn't talk about, so the details were left to Skywarp's imagination. Not that it was that hard to guess.
Time after time, Starscream returned from these beatings with injuries that were meant to humiliate as much as to hurt. Time after time, the formerly fearless trineleader woke screaming from his recharge. Gradually, Megatron was wearing him down into submission and yet Starscream refused to do anything about it. He wouldn't discuss it with his trine, and even seemed to welcome the abuse.
Only an orn earlier, Starscream had been left so overcharged that he blew fuses in his CPU and needed his trinemates to replace them; his pride would not permit him to show such injuries to Hook. Skywarp found himself wondering uneasily what would happen if the safeties ever failed to kick in and the stress blew out one of Starscream's processors altogether. Was that what Star was wanting? To escape that way? It was not a pleasant thought so he dismissed it as soon as it occurred to him, and refocused on the the image of his hobbling wingmate. Starscream was on his pedes, however unsteadily. Everything was normal.
"Hey TC! You down here?"
Thundercracker looked up but could see nothing over the junk pile he was half buried in so he just called back.
"Over here, Warp. Give me a hand?"
There was a pause, then Skywarp poked his head around the side of the pile.
"What've you found?"
Thundercracker subspaced the small bundle of CPU fuses he had located - the sight of them would only upset Skywarp - and nodded to a wide girder.
"Not sure yet. Lift there?"
This cargo hold had become the storeroom for all of Megatron's failed experiments. The Constructicons regularly raided it to build whatever project he wanted next, but since nothing was in any particular order and the parts tended to be mostly slagged anyway they quickly lost patience and just demanded new materials. Mechs with a little more tenacity could stock up with useable parts to bribe the Constructicons with to see themselves repaired well after the next battle. A worthwhile effort, since there was always another battle.
"He's out." Skywarp blurted suddenly.
Thundercracker tensed in spite of himself. The whole point of coming down here now had been to distract himself from what was probably going on up in Megatron's command room, but now the worry was back in full force.
"And?"
"He came out on his own pedes. Was heading back to recharge last I saw him. Pretty sure he made it, too: Soundwave was in a meeting with Megatron and Astrotrain."
Soundwave was usually the worst threat after one of these sessions. The Communications Officer seemed to delight in finding work to keep Starscream away from his recharge berth when he needed it most. More than once, he and Skywarp had had to rescue the dazed Air Commander from some inane task before he fell into stasis lock, something that was always risking punishment for themselves if they were caught. At least that would not happen this time.
"What's he need?"
Skywarp shrugged, then hefted the girder a little higher.
"Damage didn't look too bad this time. Self-repair'll probably sort it out, I think. Dents and gouges mostly, but there was a bit of energon on his wing. His equilibrium's shot, but I guess it'll come right after some charge time."
Once, Thundercracker mused, he would have gone rushing back to their quarters at that description, horrified by the injuries and demanding an explanation. No longer. He had learned that it was better not to interfere, and the explanation was nothing he needed to ever hear again; hearing it the first time had been hard enough.
The physical damage had occurred over vorns, infrequent but not unheard of. But that first time Starscream had had to be carried back to their quarters, trembling with shock, he had been too traumatised to lie to them when they had begged for an explanation for why he refused to go to a medic: Megatron was forcing a one-way interfacing on him. He did not use those words, but that was the heart of it. Of course, there were programs and defences and firewalls which prevented any such thing ever happening, but Starscream was expected to override those so that Megatron could take his pleasure as he wished. And for some reason that he was not willing to share, Starscream had complied.
It was a torture that no Autobot prisoner had ever suffered. Even reprogramming and rewiring would not do it: the only way to keep those defences at bay was for the mech involved to choose to override his own systems. Mutual connection into the other's interface port would prolong it so long as it was pleasurable, but normally the connection would break automatically if either side were uncomfortable. What Megatron was asking was on the absolute edge of any mech's control, and beyond most.
On the surface, Thundercracker could almost understand. This was something that Starscream could offer Megatron that no-one else could or would. But what had made him attempt it in the first place? What did he get in return that was worth the repeated violations? And why did Megatron keep getting more violent with it? One of these orns, the damage was going to be irreparable, and then what?
"Mission coming up?" he asked, trying to change the subject as he continued to sift through the crushed components under the girder.
He thought he had seen something valuable here when he had been down here a few orns earlier, but now he could not see it. Perhaps Scavenger had already taken it?
"Not yet. Not that I heard."
"We need more energon."
Skywarp muttered something that included Starscream's name, but Thundercracker had stopped listening, spotting what he was after.
"A converter cell! Perfect!"
Grinning at his wingmate, he held up the item. This would buy them both full overhauls if they needed them, and in the meantime would help them convert just a little more raw material into energon that they could use. Worth a beating if they were caught, but a matter of survival as things were now. Yes, today was turning out quite well after all.