Ghosts

Ghosts VI

Bond with me.

Those words replayed in her mind over and over. “...w-what?” She didn’t want to offend him by looking so surprised, but this was coming from a war-hardened mech, someone she never thought in a million years to speak of such things. "Are you... serious?" she asked. Of course he's serious! He isn't the type to joke around like that!

"Yes."

I knew it.

"This-This is sudden..."

"It is no more sudden than Kup's ridiculous order."

He had a point there.
Moonracer stood and gripped her little package tightly while gazing down at the crimson mech still seated upon the bench. Perceptor understood the silent request and moved to stand beside her. “Yes.” She reached out to caress the spot where Turmoil’s blast had torn through his chest. “I-I accept.” The scientist took her smaller hand in his and led her away from the others, to a room just a few doors down from where they held Optimus Prime.

“Will it hurt?” she inquired innocently.

“I have never done it before.”

The femme scrunched her face up. “But you’re a scientist, you should know these things, right?” Perceptor opened the door and tugged her inside. "It depends on the manner in which the task is carried out. Forcing another into merging can be very painful, simply because of the sheer emotion of sadness and agony being shared between the two Cybertronians. Us, however; as long as you give yourself to me completely, it will be fine."

"What do you mean exactly?"

"Once a mech starts, he is incapable of stopping until he is finished. It is within our programming."

"And the scent of a receptive female is the trigger?"

"Correct."

Moonracer was now having second thoughts. What if she said "stop" and he continued? What if he hurt her, or worse... hurt the product? She leaned against the wall, hugging Elita's gift firmly to her chassis. Perceptor walked over, carefully taking the package in hand to place upon a nearby table. "Um... P-Perceptor?" she squeaked, "What if... What if something happens? I’m not even receptive anymore...” The sniper’s visage contorted in disappointment. “You cannot conceive, for you are already carrying, but the product’s hunger will ensure your readiness to mate throughout the gestation period. It craves the nourishment found in transfluid, you see; sharing energon, alone, will not sustain it.”

Her optics widened.
So that’s why they were all sticking close. Moonracer was still a little apprehensive, but if the “cravings” were anything like before - when her cycle first began - she was in for one hell of a ride. Primus, if you can hear me... If I die, can you have a nice hot pool of oil waiting on me? And maybe a nice looking Seeker-slave? Make sure he has a cute butt, though... I want one like... Thundercracker... oh yes... Oh no... what if Perceptor knows I fantasize about a Decepticon... and Thundercracker of all mechs? It’s not like we’re... It’s not like we.... We don’t... love one another... Oh, it's just the cycle talking.

“Swarm!”

She was jerked from her thoughts as Perceptor ran out of the room. The femme was left dumbfounded. “Moonracer!” A voice hissed from the doorway. “Come on!” She quickly shook her mind clear and grabbed the package, depositing it in subspace as she ran after Chromia.

"Where are we going?"

"There's an underground tunnel leading to a nearby ship."

"But what about the others?"

Chromia stopped at the door leading to the tunnel where the rest of the femmes waited. "They'll be fine. It was decided by Kup, Prowl, and Jazz that we are to head towards the Junkion ship-"

"Junkion?!"

"Shh, keep it down... Yes. Wreck-Gar is going to take us to Earth. We'll meet up with the rest there."

As she entered the tunnel, she took one last glance back at the mechs. Her feet didn’t want to move. She wanted to stay. She wanted to stay with him.

Perceptor...