(Hijack meets Acus and ends up semi-permanently latched to him. Warnings for this: slave coding, mention of dubcon. Acus is somewhat unhappy. Hijack is surprisingly okay.)
Acus very rarely stood up for himself, even now that he was feeling better. Some of it
was a lack of will to fight, most of it was because Scalpel never gave him the
chance. Not that he minded. She was very good at standing up for people.
Trouble was, that meant Acus had no practice in this sort of
thing.
It helped, in this case, that he was standing up for- well, somewhat for
a patient, but also for the health of his friends. Still, his winglets were low
on his back as he spoke, and he was stroking his fingertips in small patterns against
each other in an effort to stay calm. “I’m- I’m sorry, but , no, we all know
none of that will- will work. It needs to be a-a medic, the coding pathways are
smoother that way, we have access to and processors for things that others
don’t. And- and you both-“
They were listening, albeit
a bit skeptically, and Acus’ winglets lifted in a gesture of hope. “-you both
have to admit, you’re- you’re a lot more emotional than I am. We- we don’t know
how strong this coding is. I’m sorry, Scalpel, but- but you’re really- you get
angry very easily, and it’s not a bad thing, it’s not! Except that… how do you
think the coding will- will respond to that? It- if it’s the really strong
kind, it’s probably going to hurt them
for- for upsetting you, and just it existing
will upset you. Patches, you’ll- you’ll just get all sad, and the- you know, the-“
Acus made a sort of squishing motion at the air, attempting
to indicate Patches’ soft-friendly-sad feelings that he got at people. “-those.
The feelings. Not good, either. I’m… I get anxious, but not emotional, usually. I’m… maybe not the
best choice ever, but… the best choice here. I can do this. It’s… just
temporary, after all, right? I can do this.”
Turning slightly, Acus gestured to the motionless frame of
the mech in question, his winglets lifting higher in the most confident gesture
he could manage. Up, out to the sides, presenting the bright orange trim, a
gesture he’d accidentally picked up from Scalpel and her tendency to show off
her sharp edges. “I can do this. And
I can’t exactly not. They need help.
I can help them. I can.”
No one liked this idea. He could see that much. But… no one
had any coherent objections.
Patches, in lieu of objections, offered a stabilizing hug. Nuzzling
Acus’ forehelm, he rocked gently back and forth, taking Acus with him, until he
felt the smaller frame relax. “I know. You’re right. I hate it, but you’re
right. We’re here, okay? We’ve got you. Whatever you need, we’ve got you. I’ve
got you right here… whenever you’re ready. We’ve got you, Acus.”
Ready to most likely activate the slave coding of a nearly
comatose mech who would probably latch onto him? No. No one decent could ever
be ready for that. He wasn’t going to get any readier by waiting, though, so he
nodded despite himself and let Patches half-carry him to the berth. Sometimes
Patches’ walking hugs felt more like being awkwardly carried. The effort was
appreciated, and… somewhat helpful.
Acus vented deeply, then reached up, tucked his patient’s
hem forward to access the panel at the back of their helm, and clicked it open
via a medical override tool. Best to be quick about this. As he’d suspected,
the ports under the panel were scratched, healed over but clearly damaged
previously, and Acus spent a nanoklik or two searching for the least damaged
ones. No sense causing any further discomfort if he could avoid it.
When the plug locked into place, Acus was met with a nearly
blank wall. No traps, no defensive measures, just a wall. A wall and a door,
carved out in coding so clearly he could nearly see it. Another deep vent, and
Acus reached out, pushing at the door. He fully intended to pulse medic
override coding at the door, let it know he wasn’t someone who needed to be
locked out, but it opened at the lightest nudge.
Before Acus could reach inside, something else reached out,
wrapped around him, and latched into place like a set of animated chains. It
held for a fraction of an impulse, then released almost entirely, leaving a
thin trail between Acus and-
And slave coding. Coding that had imprinted on him, was
registering him as its commander, and had just presented every aspect of his
patient’s mind for him to peruse.
Acus politely but firmly declined the offer. A quick
once-over for clearly damaged or dead-end coding that would need to be removed,
then Acus retreated, firmly closing the door behind him. The chain stayed,
though, and he could almost feel it still around him as he unplugged.
His patient’s optics flickered furiously for a moment or
two, then shut off, and their frame slumped from sitting ramrod-straight to
almost falling against Acus. Blackspark, fortunately, caught them. “Whoops,
Pit- there ‘e go. You see anythin’ useful in there? They sure ain’t givin’ any
answers out.”
Acus, settling against Patches for further support, rubbed
his temples briefly before responding. “Yes, I saw some things. They are… as ‘okay’
as they can be. We were right- slave coding. Imprinted on me immediately, no-
no barriers to keep me out, must be some sort of succession protocol. They’re
rebooting, and should… hopefully be slightly more animated when they wake up,”
he sighed, settling into Patches’s arms, and slowly shook his helm. “Goodness,
I still don’t like this, but… we have to get the coding out of them, and it is active regardless of if it’s latched
onto someone. Better they not be forced into that blank state. We can work with
most other things. If- if they’re imprinted on me, at least I can try to treat
them well, give them some degree of freedom. Worst case scenario, they can be
sedated while we work on the code, but, Primus, I do hope that won’t be the
case. Please, could you- wrap them up in something?”
Responding with quiet sympathy to the pitiful, trilling
undernote in Acus’ voice, Patches hugged the smaller medic tight, reaching out
to pull a blanket up over their patient with his free servo. “Poor thing. You’re
right, though, this is… probably the best option. I almost hope the coding is
old, because it- it means they might be somewhat resigned to it at this point.
Less stressful for them.”
Blackspark, leaning against the edge of the berth, lifted
one of the mech’s forearms and tapped a fingertip against one of multiple
panels along their arm. “What d’you suppose is up with this? That’s, what- a
good twenty panels, easily visible, an’ I bet more out of easy sight. Not even
databirds got that many wires. I’d almost think they were some kinda charge
hub- this many wires an’ slave coding don’t bode well. If that were th’ case,
though, I’d think they woulda been modded to be a bit less, well-“
Pausing, he gestured at the mech’s frame in general,
especially the completely flat chassis and stomach and the oddly oriented hip
joints. “-that. Weird as Pit. I guess it could be a kink, but can’t be this
many panels wortha mechs with a kink like this. Wouldn’t be profitable. So, I
don’t think that’s right. Dear Primus I hope I’m right about that not bein’ the
reason.”
“Well, we’ll just… put that on the list of things to check
for on the exam, then,” Acus muttered, and sat down next to his patient, not
sure what to do other than wait for them to wake up. And, well, pet them.
Nothing much, they were unaware and potentially unconscious, but he lightly
stroked their forearm in hopes that they would wake with some awareness of
softness. It worked for him. Completely innocent contact, not looking for
anything, not touching anywhere most people would object to. Who knew, with
this patient, but… worth a try. Hopefully it wouldn’t do any harm.
Eventually, their patient’s optics onlined, slow but steady.
Optic lids flickered, then each piece of plating slowly rose and settled, a few
plates at a time, a clear manifestation of a physical reboot. Blinking, they
watched the ceiling for a few nanokliks, then turned their arm over to offer
Acus the small panels. “Do you require access for further scans?”
They looked better. Neutral, field restrained, minimal to no
body language on any part of them, but better. They were awake, their optics
were focused, and they weren’t in any sort of visible distress. That was a
start. Acus in-vented deeply, relieved, and offered them a gentle, professional
pulse of greeting/reassurance/comfort with
an overlay of medic-signal. “Not right now, no. Thank you. My name is-“
“Acus. I know. I heard, and” the mech sighed, sitting up and
crossing their legs, “my coding imprinted on you. Coding you evidently intend
to remove. I was locked, not unaware. It happens if I go long enough without
interacting with my Commander.”
“…right,” Acus muttered, turning to properly face them, and
shut everything else out in favor of his patient. “Good to know. Now… I need
your name, and I need to know the details of how your coding works, as much as
you can give me. I’d rather not have to go prying into anything if I can talk
to you instead. You’ve had enough of that, I’m sure.”
“Hijack,” the mech replied, quiet, optics flicking briefly
to the rest of the room before going back to Acus as if pulled. Look a
Commander in the optics when speaking to them. “Relatively long-leash coding. I
am largely functional if left to myself, but need to interact with my Commander
occasionally to avoid a forcible lockdown. I cannot disobey an order you give
me, and you have the authority to give others total control over me. I also”
with a clear expression of distaste “have been explicitly ordered to include in
this description that I am bound to the word
of an order. I can be creative in
my interpretation of an order, and” still unhappily “I have learned to find as
many loopholes as I can if I disagree with an order. I personally find this
entirely reasonable. I also have a few long-standing orders of etiquette. One
of them is optic contact, I am not choosing to keep my optics locked on yours.
I would rather be looking around. I am not obligated to speak my thoughts
unless ordered, and I am not obligated to do anything that is not a direct
order. I will be very creative in my interpretation of broad orders regarding
your intent. I also-“
Armor clamping, Hijack made a clear effort to shut up, but
failed as if it was being dragged free of them. “…I have numerical codes which
can trigger various punishment subroutines, you should have a file of those
freely available now. I am additionally unable to refuse direct orders to
injure myself if you feel as though ‘your creativity should match mine’.
Lastly, I am not allowed to make direct contact with you, with any part of
myself, without explicit permission.”
Acus, trying not to look upset, gave a jerky nod of
understanding. “Registered. First- I do not care about your manners. Please
discard any sort of etiquette rules you have as far as you are able to, I-“
Excellent. That bled a considerable amount of tension out of
Hijack’s frame as their optics immediately moved from him to everyone else in
the room, flickering back and forth, clearly assessing the situation. “-ah,
that helped? Good. Second, I am not going to order you to harm yourself. Let me
be clear about that. Before I say anything else, I need to know why you have this coding in the first
place, and I need to know the truth. I’m…” Pit he didn’t like this “I’m afraid
I’ll have to make that an order.”
Muttering something about “nicest order ever”, Hijack cut
their optics over to Acus, smirking inwardly when they didn’t immediately have to meet his optics. Oh, they liked that.
They liked this mech already. “It was decided that my ability made me too much
of a risk. Especially a political risk. Would you like me to show you?”
Of course Acus
would like them to show him. He wanted to know what was up with Hijack’s
frame, he’d never seen anything quite like this. Though- with caution. “Assuming
the demonstration won’t harm anyone in this room, absolutely.”
Hijack, almost smirking, obliged. Every small panel along
their front opened up, and twenty-plus thin, prehensile cables of varying
thicknesses, most tipped with small metal points, unspooled into thin air.
They were expecting some variety of interest, probably mixed
with horror. They were not expecting utter fascination and no concern
whatsoever. Cocking their helm slightly, they extended one cable slightly
towards Acus, offering him the chance to inspect. “I don’t mind if you touch. They’re
highly sensitive to electrical signals, but not especially to contact.”
Oh. That was cute. Acus’ first touch was gentle, soft,
taking the cable between two fingertips and almost-but-not-quite flinching back
as it wrapped against his fingers. “Those locate and fasten around signal relays.
If I land on someone’s back and get enough cables fastened into place, I can
draw away their movement impulses and replace them. It enables me to completely
control any motions from the neck down. Hence the political danger…
incriminating actions and all. And-“
Acus looked fascinated, and Hijack slowly stood up to
demonstrate further, stretching their arms out to either side. What looked a
bit like a thick bio-light ran down each arm from about mid-forearm to their
knee, on each side, and expanded out as they stretched. An electric current ran
through each slack membrane, and the membranes tightened to almost resemble a
glider suit such as a humanoid being might use. “-I can glide, if thrown or
given a high platform to dive off of. The coding was a precaution against any
political manipulation I might attempt… and is largely the only way they could
get me to use my ability against anyone. I don’t particularly enjoy taking
control of people who’ve done nothing to me.”
Acus, still fascinated by the cables, wrapped two of them
around his wrist and stroked a third between his fingertips, then reached to
touch the membrane. “Ah, this explains the odd frame arrangement- fascinating. And it makes the coding
understandable. Not, agh- not excusable,
of course, it’s still a horrible thing to do to someone, but I see why they
would think it a good idea.”
“Mm, no, never questioned that,” Hijack murmured, optics
cutting towards the multiple doors along one wall, and shifted their weight
slightly. “I would… like to take any further discussion to somewhere else, if
we can, potentially somewhere with a berth. I am going to need fuel, if
possible. And I would… like elaboration, now that you know what I can do. I don’t
intend to hurt you. I couldn’t if I tried, and… so far, I like you well enough.
I heard your… very long discussion about my potential coding, well before you
had any idea what you were dealing with. I don’t believe any of that was a lie.
As far as I can, as of right now… I trust you. I definitely like you.”
“I’m. Well. I- thank you?”
Seeming uncertain how to respond, Acus fidgeted slightly
with both servos, accidentally involving the cables around his wrist, then
nodded once and attempted to disengage. “-yes, sure, we can go somewhere else,
there is a private room through that door with a berth and energon. I. Ah. I
can take this from here.”
Patches, trying his best not
to engulf Hijack in hugs, settled for hugging Acus once before backing
away.
Scalpel did not take a similarly cuddly role. She pulsed a
quick wave of supportiveness at Acus, but aimed a glare at Hijack, winglets up
and flared. “Lemme be clear, mech. You try and hurt him, I hurt you. You
successfully hurt him, I kill you.”
“Scalpel, maybe don’- ah, no, you threatened ‘em, sorry,”
Blackspark muttered, shrugging apologetically from behind Scalpel, and dodged a
half-sparked smack at him. “-oi, fine, I’m leavin’, I’ll go sit down, but she
ain’t kiddin’!”
“Sorry, she’s-“
How the Pit did he- react to that? Acus disentangled his
servos from Hijack’s assorted parts, stepping away, and shook his helm
slightly. “She’s, ah- not, um, not bluffing, no. She’s very protective. I
promise she won’t hurt you if you don’t try
to kill me or- or anything, though. So. Don’t do that.”
“Noted,” Hijack muttered, following after Acus, eyeing
Scalpel over their shoulder the entire way into the room. She meant it.
Clearly. They’d avoid hurting Acus. Not that they wanted to hurt him in the
first place. This mech, they could work with as a Commander.
The instant the door shut behind them, Hijack gave in to exhaustion
and impulse and flopped onto the berth, face-down, groaning quietly against the
padding. “Ow.”
Oh, concern from Acus. Cute. “Fine. Just. Ow at life.”
Goodness, right, low fuel levels. Acus pulled a cube from
the cabinet on the wall and sat near Hijack’s helm, reaching to touch one of
their- winglets? Almost winglets. Two thin ribs sticking up from their upper
back, slightly curved, with a membrane stretched from the tips to a point
attached below them. Probably for steering help while gliding. Decent for
expression. “You need fuel. Are you steady enough to hold the cube? I can get
an IV, if not, or help you keep it steady.”
“That’s… another thing,” Hijack muttered against the
padding, and propped their helm up just enough to speak clearly. “If my fuel
levels are low enough, I can only fuel out of a container held in a Commander’s
servos. Someone added it as a manipulation tactic. I don’t want to fight it
right now, I don’t like needles, I just want to go with it for once, but… I am
not allowed to touch,” they murmured, shrugging against the padding.
Acus didn’t like that, but he settled a servo on Hijack’s
back and guided them halfway into his lap, holding the cube easily where Hijack
could sip. “Well, as I offered, I will… happily assist you. And I would like to
remove this order, if I can. I would also like to… set some boundaries, or lack
thereof. I do not want a slave.”
Once he was sure Hijack was listening, Acus spoke softly,
gently, but as firmly as he could in that tone. “Unless I specifically phrase
something as an order, please take it as a request. Also, please, please tell me if you object to an
order. You are… not quite welcome to freely touch me, I can be somewhat
contact-averse, however I will not require explicit permission for anything
that does not involve your interface equipment or the use of your ability.
General permission or positive responses should suffice. And I am making this
an order- do not use that ability on anyone who is not threatening bodily harm
to another. Though I gather that may not be something you want to do in any
case. In short… please behave as though this coding does not exist, unless I
specify otherwise, and do not make a puppet of anyone who is not thoroughly
earning it.”
“Fair enough,” Hijack declared into the half-empty cube,
then drained the rest of it, optic lids fluttering slightly as if they were
sleepy. “Now… my turn for ‘n order. Be honest. What do you want me to do? I-I
know you want something, however nice you are. You must want me to do
something. Mix you drinks, bring you things, polish some part of you or another…
I honestly wouldn’t object to a decent number of things. Could also take notes,
potentially assist during some procedure or another that requires extra servos
with no skill, could-“
They were rambling, they knew, they didn’t care. They were
just listing off… things. Things with no serious connotations. Things they
wouldn’t much mind.
And then things they didn’t want to do.
“-wouldn’t like that much. Or, Pit, could make me suck you
off, had someone consider that before my looks put them off i- oh.”
Acus cringed, and
Hijack instantly regretted what had been something of a joking statement. Pit.
Acus had seemed at least okay with most of the joking, but that, agh- people
didn’t flinch away from the entire room for anything less than personal. “…apologies.
What, specifically, if you can clarify, do I need to never say again?”
Acus, resisting the urge to curl up and hide, shook his helm
violently and pushed at the air with both servos. “No, no, I’m- I’m not, not going to order you not to say
something, I, no-“
Hijack lifted a servo and patted at the air a distance from Acus’
face, managing to quiet him, and pointed almost sternly at his face. “D’you
think I’d suggest you order me not to say something? I mean, what do I need to
never say around you again in order to be a decent person? Because that- that
is personal. Something happened. I don’t want to mention whatever it was again
if it makes you do this. Also. Give me permission to hug you.”
Oh. Acus blinked twice, startled, and ex-vented heavily. “I’m.
Ah. You- you’re perceptive. And I’m blatantly upset, I-I suppose. Just, ah..
any- any mentions of… those in positions of power abusing their power to gain
sexual favors from- from subordinates. Especially. Ah. Oral favors. Please.
That’s… not an order. It’s a request. As for… the hug? I. Shouldn’t. You’re a
patient, and- and forcibly anchored to- I’m- I- oh, frag, okay, yes, please.”
Selfish. Incredibly selfish. But he wanted, dear Primus he
wanted, and it looked like Hijack wanted just as much. Hijack looked… apologetic.
For triggering him, evidently.
And then Hijack flipped over, slid into his lap, and hugged
him. With all their limbs. All their
limbs, legs and cables included. Acus chirped in surprise, then relaxed, optics
almost shutting in response to the pressure. “…that’s nice. Thank you.”
Hijack, groggy as the energon flooded their systems, pulsed
shivering bliss at the contact and at
the praise. “Mmh, okay, I… am staying
like this, we are not moving, deeeear Primus I don’t think I have ever hugged someone with cables and it
is good, you feel warm. And praiiise,
I like the praise, thaaaat’s fun, that’s awesome, never got enough of… oh,
lookit, ‘m drunk. Okay. Yay. Sure. Whatever. Gonna hug you.”
Pressure. Pressure through his entire frame, firm and snug,
warm, friendly. Acus didn’t mind the cables- Hijack physically couldn’t hurt
him and didn’t likely have any desire to do so. They were strange, alarming to
most, but not that bad. This… was far too warm to protest. Mm. Deep pressure,
always fun. Chirruping in the back of his throat, Acus about keeled over onto
his side, pulling a spare blanket up with one servo to cover them both. “Ohh.
No. No complaints. Good- good mech, good, warm, kind mech, thank you, this is
nice, very nice, good, good dear
mech. Relax, Hijack. ‘s only fair. Gonna relax.”
Well.
This? This, Hijack could work with. Ending up this cuddly
with a new Commander was probably a good sign. Especially one who seemed so
repulsed –or traumatized- by the idea of taking advantage of them. Nonsexual
contact, they could and would happily do. First hug they’d had in a very long
time. Good hug.
Awesome.
Time to sleep. Stasis pods didn’t count as sleep.
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