Consequence

Chapter 1: War's final end

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This is very dark, darker than most of my fictions. There are themes of prisioners of war, slave coding (spoke of but not in current use), abuse, damages, war crimes, traitors and more.
Triage is not a Hasbro character I kinda made him up cause I needed a quick medic without using cannon characters. These are Transformers Prime Characters, but in an entirely AU setting.

Please be forewarned:

His helm is lowered to his torso plate, optics offline, as he's dragged back to the rancid holding cell. The smell of the bad energon on the ground is enough to churn a tank; at least it would, if his tanks had any fuel to churn at this point. His feet drag behind him, because he won't help them by walking back, he won't add to this. His mouth is a thin line of contempt, and he struggles to keep this optics shielded from any on looking optics.

There's a pause in their movement as the doors they have come to open. He's shuffled in farther before another door is open, and he's thrust inside. There's a searing pain as the compliance collar around his neck activates, his servos clamp around the device but it weakens him and he merely drops to the floor. "We'll have more questions for you two later." The Decepticon sneers as he closes the cell with a bang. The Con locks the cell and leaves with his compatriot out the main brig doorway.

The Decepticon Brig is deceptively large for it's lay out, and all cells are empty save for one. It holds two occupants; the third in command of the Autobots, Jazz, who lies on the floor holding his compliance collar. The other, Optimus Prime himself, who sits in the shadows quietly.

Optimus scooted forward as far as best he could, his leg struts were both shattered. Jazz had removed the damaged parts and they lay in a pile. "Jazz." He murmured moving slowly toward the spy as he began to lift himself up. He drug himself along by his arms, their red and blue paint scratched and marred.

"Don't move boss." He said slowly. "Yer legs can't take all that movin'." The Porsche insisted waving a hand so Optimus would remain. "I'll come ta you in just a minute." The spy shook his helm, the sound of stringy metal sounding with each shake. Looking to Optimus in the corner her frowned and pushed up moving slowly to the Prime's side.

Optimus hand reached up as Jazz came to him. "Your antenna." Optimus frowned as his hands came forward to touch the dangling pieces, which hung loosely from the sports car's helm.

"Yeah, I know." Jazz shrugged it off and smiled at Optimus trying to remain optimistic about their current situation. "Please, don't worry about them."

Optimus frowned and looked up. "Who this time?" he asked softly taking his hand back as Jazz curled up beside him against the wall.

"Soundwave, I've never been taken to anyone else." He shook his head. "Can't keep him out." Jazz sighed and looked over Prime's legs.

"Have you seen Prowl?" Optimus asked with a soft tone. His hand touched the silver mech's helm.

"Nope." Jazz helped the Prime sit up better against the wall. "Megs didn't come for you while I was gone did he?" Jazz asked concerned laced in his voice. "You're so damaged I can't tell anymore." He sighed as if that bothered him more than he was letting on.

"No, he hasn't seen me in days, thank Primus…" Optimus frowned, it was for the best he thought, every time he had been taken to the war lord another strut would be broken, another piece of armor torn from his shell, and more tares in his valve than he was emotionally ready to accept.

"That's good." Jazz said with a forced smile petting the Prime's helm, giving him a once over in the dim light. "I'll do what I can for you boss you know that. I'm just happy they let us be here together. It's nice to have someone to talk to, even if everything is recorded."

"Thank you Jazz I –" The main brig door-opening cut off Optimus, who hadn't finished his reply to Jazz, instead he shrunk back against the wall and remained silent. The open door cast a glaring light on the two prisoners. Two figures entered into the dim light but kept a polite distance from the bars.

"Ah I see now what you mean." Starscream. The seeker moved forward and looked down at Optimus. "I'll see what I can do for them, but it won't be much." He nodded. "I'll see if Triage will do it, not many of the other medics will touch them."

The other mech merely nodded to the seeker from the shadows. "Prowler?" Jazz asked and moved to the front of the cell, his hands rose up and grasped onto the metal bars. "Is that you?"

The other mech said nothing and touched the seeker. "I'll take care of it." Starscream said softly as if speaking through a bond. "Go on." He motioned to the door and the other mech exited in the shadow, but Jazz could see the elevated door wings. He knew, in his spark, that this was Prowl, bonded to the seeker, the second in command of the Decepticons.

"I'll send a medical team for you Prime." Starscream said slowly as he turned to an energon dispenser. "It won't be pretty, nor will it be perfect, but I believe my consort is correct, Megatron would want you on your feet." He gathered up two cubes and turned. "And you." He looked at Jazz, "Will be seen to as well."

"Why?" Jazz spat moving back from the bars as the seeker approached them.

"Because…" Starscream set the cubes down in front of the cell and pushed them into the cell between the bars. "Soundwave will want you in one piece." He murmured almost sorry. "Excuse me."

Optimus turned his helm away and sighed as the seeker stood, and moved away. Soon they heard the sound of the outer brig door closing and locking. Jazz looked at the cubes and frowned. "It's half congealed bossbot." Jazz said lifting up one of the cubes and dipping his finger in. To a human it would look like stirred up Jell-o; rotten to say the least.

Optimus' head turned toward his third in command and reached out for the second cube. Jazz placed it in the leader's hand and frowned. "We gonna ingest it?" Jazz asked almost dreading the answer.

Optimus nodded and slowly began to drink the thick substance as best he could; fighting to swallow, and keep down, the awful substance. His tanks would forgive him later; at least he hoped.

"Slave programming?" Prowl muttered. "Why would you need to use such things? The war is won. Cybertron is ours. The prisoners are yours, with no real threat of rescue from anyone. I doubt either has the strength to retaliate."

"You question me?" Megatron growled from his chair pointing an angry finger in the cruiser's direction. "You are here because I indulge Starscream his affection for you."

Prowl bowed, lower than deemed respectable, but he bowed hoping that it's depth would appease the dark lord and let Megatron know of his submission. "Of course not my Lord I do not question your orders. I, however, I merely seek out your logic in the matter." Prowl asked with the same sort of stoicism he had always had as he rose up to standing.

"So that they will not have to remain in the brig, and yet will be under some sort of control." The Decepticon leader growled coldly leaning back. "So Orion will not have to leave my quarter because I cannot be there."

"My lord, Starscream and I have dispatched a Medic to patch them up." Prowl responded; he caught the fierce gaze as Megatron threatened to explode; so Prowl kept speaking. "If you wish them to roam freely …Orion will need to be able to walk." He said doing his best not to call the prisoner Optimus or Prime. "His legs are shattered my lord he's on the verge of the well of all sparks."

"Soundwave?" Megatron turned his head to the dark figure who stepped from the shadows. "Your Opinion?"

"Opinion: Slave coding acceptable. Opinion: Repairs Necessary." He moved with fluidity, as he crossed into the light. "Query: Jazz to remain in Soundwave's custody." The query came as a statement.

"Of course I would not rob you of your prize Soundwave." Megatron smiled brightly. "Perhaps we'll catch another and Shockwave can have an Autobot pet as well." He laughed turning to Prowl boring his gaze into the cruiser. "Present company withheld." he said bitterly.

Prowl gave a curt nod acting as if it was nothing at all. "Of course Lord Megatron." He shifted his stance and gave a cold smile. "Should one named Wheeljack be caught I would like him for my own." He gave a slow grin.

Megatron nodded. "Of course I am certain you and Starscream would enjoy him." He smirked. "Your deviousness knows no bounds Prowl." He gave a slow nod. "I am proud of the Decepticon you've become, and of how you affect Starscream; his own behavior has changed drastically for the better."

"Thank you my lord. I live to serve you, and endeavor to always be in your merciful favor." The grin faded. "When shall we begin?" He asked turning to Soundwave.

"Answer: Immediately with Lord Megatron's approval; once repairs are finished." Soundwave turned his head to face the silver mech.

"Granted!" Megatron said enthusiastically.

Prowl and Soundwave both bowed and exited the room together.

Once the doors had shut behind them Prowl turned to Soundwave. "I will have them moved to Medical for repairs, do you require any assistance with the slave coding?"

"Answer: Negative."

"Very well than I shall see you in two solar cycles; once their repairs are complete we'll begin." He said and turned on a heel cap and moved down the hallway.

Jazz's optics lit with the sound of the main door. Two rolling berths were wheeled in. "Ah well ya look like scrap ya do." The Scottish accent was thick. For a moment it reminded Jazz of Leadfoot, but it was too tenor in tone, absolutely too chipper a voice.

"Who the slag are you?" Jazz asked shifting up from his position next to Optimus. Putting himself between the damaged Prime and the bars of the holding cell.

"Ah language youngling, mah name is Triage." He smiled as he stepped within the cell's dark walls. "Ah yes Phryme ya be in very deplorable shape." He motioned a vehicon forward. "Bring in the berths." He said kneeling down to look Optimus over closer. "Prime on the first berth, Jazz on the other." He said with a smile before pressing up.

Jazz frowned at him. "Awful happy for a con don't cha think?" He jabbed softly.

"Ah there's no reason to be angry at us hatchling, we're just doing our jobs." He nodded to one of his other workers; the worker moved to unclip the straps on the berth to allow the Autobots to lay on them. "We'll git ya all banged out. Good as new in a few of those earth days." Triage smiled as Jazz was placed on a berth and strapped down. "Careful with the Prime he's got the worst of it, an don't ferget the leg struts." He pointed into the cell. "Need em to fashion new ones." He looked back. "And his interface panel grab that as well; seems to have fallen off." He grabbed a large white tarp and opened it placing Optimus' body parts on top of his torso and putting the tarp over the whole of him.

Optimus nodded his thanks, not only for the deception's assistance, but for his discretion as well. He noted the age of Triage, he looked very old, and familiar. "The compliance collars will stay unfortunately, General Prowl said that they needn't be removed for your repairs." He shook his head. "though wire feeds will be a might bit interesting."

"General?" Jazz looked up. "Prowl; He's a general?"

"Yes and Consort to General Commander Starscream." Triage moved up to Jazz and helped him to a berth. He ran a hand over the mech's helm. "Do they hurt?"

Jazz didn't move or answer from the berth. His helm turned to Optimus. "Ya can speak ta me mechling." The older medic said softly. "Cant fix anything if'n I don't know what's ail'n ya."

"Yeah Soundwave pulled em out." He murmured. "Can you just remove them?" Jazz asked. "I won't need them here anyhow." He sounded defeated.

"I'll ask Soundwave…yer under his perview." He smiled down at the white mech his hands gentle; he looked across the spy's berth to the other. "Is the Phryme secured?" The way in which he said Prime made Jazz cringe slightly back arching off the hard berth. Marginally. The Vehicons nodded at Triage. "Good lets get them to medical."

"Repairs?" Starscream paced at the end of the berth.

Prowl looked up from his datapad. He sat on the berth his back against the headboard. One foot hooked over the other casually. "Are not completed yet, they will be ready for coding tomorrow." Prowl retunred his nose to his book.

"Triage is insufferable." Starscream growled.

"He is the best medic that's left of our Race." Prowl said codly. "As you know both Hook and Ratchet are dead."

"Yes." Starscream sighed and came around the berth crawling down beside the cruiser. "What are you reading?" He asked.

"You do not care what I'm reading." Prowl said coldly.

Starscream grabbed the data-pad and tossed it across the room; as Prowl turned to give angered protest but lips met his and his anger ebbed. Prowl moaned and pushed the seeker back flat on his wings. "I hate it when you get like this." He grit out.

"You love it when I get like this." Starscream reached up behind the cruiser's back and pulled on his door wings eliciting a moan. "I'm gonna make you scream."

"That's your job." Prowl smiled for the first time all night and dipped down meeting the seeker's lips fiercely.

"Ride me." The seeker begged against his consort's lips. "Elicite the reactions you claim you can."

Prowl moaned at the challenge. "Oh yes." He purred softly. "Oh yes."

Starscream's spike pressurize hard behind its panel. "Oh you're just full of tricks tonight." Starscream groaned and arched up.

"You haven't the slightest idea." Prowl smirked, as he growled his engines legs squeezing the seeker's sides.

"Oh than please General…enlighten me." Starscream smirked slyly.

"And why should I?" Prowl countered bucking his hips down against the prone seeker.

Starscream growled grabbing the cruiser tightly by the neck. "That's an order General." He nearly spat as he growled.

"Yes sir." Prowl pushed him back into the berth and growled louder as he tore free the seeker's interface panel and grabbed the pressurizing spike as it fluidly formed into the cup of his palm. Prowl began to stroke as the seeker closed his optics, the hollows of the ruby recesses darkened with each stroke. "I think the Commander General approves." Prowl said with a hint of humor.

Starscream's optics onlined and he shook his helm. Grabbing Prowl by the helm he pushed him down toward the spike. "Shut up and put your lips to better use than being verbose." It was spat in anger and lust, but Prowl could feel the warmth in it, the love that they dared not speak. The secret love that had, from the beginning, always existed between them had been tender and real, and though they were outwardly bonded, the ranks would never know of the sweetness and almost serenity they shared of spark.

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