Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Megatron sat near a window looking out into Torvus Bog, watching as a light rain fell on the forest despite remaining in direct sunlight. Water droplets acted as prisms, sparkling in the sun, adorning the leaves like shimmering crystals, and the gladiator took a drink of the high grade sitting on a table beside him, going so far as to put his feet up on a small crate in front of him.

He hadn't been too fond of the Alterium's resting place at first, given that the humidity was incredibly irritating for everyone, but it was not too difficult for Knockout to make a few simple dehumidifiers, which of course he did out of concern for his own wellbeing, and Megatron could definitely not argue with the picturesque surroundings... at least while he stayed inside. How Shockwave managed to go on his almost daily excursions out in the rain was baffling.

Nonetheless, due to the coincidentally nice view the windows from the cargo hold had, the space had been turned into something of a lounge in the time since the decepticons landed so long ago. For a while it had been a makeshift setup created entirely out of storage crates, but eventually a few of the vehicons had taken to making some real furniture, and so the space became a common area of sorts. At present, however, Megatron was its only occupant.

He took another sip of high grade, briefly wondering if Soundwave would think this was too early to be drinking... Not that it would make any difference.

He heard as the door opened behind him and someone walked toward him, but he didn't bother to look back. Without a word, Ratchet sat down in the chair beside Megatron, immediately looking toward the bottle of high grade, pouring himself a glass as he muttered quietly.

"You started without me."

"You were late," the gladiator replied, staring out at the rain as it subsided into a light drizzle. Just as Ratchet started drinking the entirety of his glass of high grade in a single motion, Megatron looked back toward him.

"So?"

The autobot took a moment to finish his drink before setting down his glass with emphasis and responding.

"Bioweapons."

The gladiator smiled.

"Oh?"

Ratchet let out a sigh upon seeing this reaction, rolling his eyes somewhat.

"I can see how well this is going to go."

"I'm just surprised you'd want to go there."

Ratchet already started pouring himself another glass of high grade, shaking his head somewhat as he replied.

"It was going to come up sooner or later."

Megatron glanced at the amount of high grade that remained in the bottle, looking toward Ratchet with displeasure.

"... I only have so much of that, you know."

The autobot leaned back in his chair somewhat, setting his glass on the table between them.

"Why else is it here, then?"

The air was silent for a few moments, until finally, Megatron turned his head to glance toward Ratchet.

"So. Bioweapons. I can only assume you are opposed to them?"

"Naturally. I've been trying to think of some case where I would support their use, but I can't. However..."

The autobot took a drink before continuing.

"I accept that I'm probably biased. I'm a medic, so I feel like bioweapons are a... savage misuse of medical technology. And I won't even get into the long term, widespread ecological impacts..."

Megatron smiled as he replied.

"Because those reasons are uninteresting. Although I would like to point out that clearly Shockwave finds bioweaponry to be... logical... even despite having exactly the same reasons as you to potentially disavow their use."

Ratchet sneered in response as he stared outside.

"Well, Shockwave is a bit of a psychopath, so he's definitely not in the position to be making moral judgements."

Megatron stared outside, taking a deep breath before speaking.

"I do not consider bioweapons to be a... normal tool of warfare. They hold the potential to backfire, and so I have only approved their use in... particularly dire scenarios."

Ratchet glanced over at the gladiator, his tone growing accusatory, almost taunting.

"And why not? After all, if you're going to kill people, why not start with bioweapons?"

"The purpose of my war was never solely to kill. I only wanted to cause as much destruction as it took for the autobots to concede."

"Oh? Then what were you talking about the other day when you said that resigning to war automatically meant resigning to... how did you put it? 'Any measures necessary?'"

"Resigning to war necessarily means that you have surrendered civility, was how I put it."

Megatron took a drink of high grade briefly, looking back toward Ratchet with a hint of a smile on his face as he spoke.

"There are more forms of destruction than killing alone. Some of those methods can be more effective at turning the tide of war."

"Well," Ratchet spat, "since you're clearly such a benevolent warlord-"

The name caused Megatron's aura to flare with a mixture of both amusement as well as disgust. He stared at the autobot with his somehow condescending smile, though he waited patiently as Ratchet continued.

"-Then why did you use bioweapons? It's not like we'd backed you into a corner. There weren't even any autobots in your territory when the plague started. I don't see how that's a 'particularly dire scenario.'"

"If my memory serves," Megatron said, his eyes practically boring into Ratchet's spark, "we were considering the long-term loss of resources. The plague was an effective, and efficient way of not only curtailing a possible autobot strike with little resources, but also to impact territories further away from the front lines than we would normally be able to reach."

"That didn't answer my question. I asked how that counts as reserving bioweapons for dire scenarios."

"We were at risk of losing the Polyhex energon mine, which would have severely disadvantaged us."

"So that's how you define dire scenarios then? Possibly losing some energon? And that makes it okay to unleash a plague!?"

Just as Ratchet's aura grew increasingly aggravated, so too did the gladiator's expression turn from one of amusement to one of anger. Nonetheless, he remained outwardly calm, taking another drink of high grade before glancing back at the autobot.

"Unlike you, Ratchet, my sense of morality is... fluid. I wouldn't definitively say that anything is completely right or completely wrong. That's usually where I defer to Shockwave's method of focusing on what's logical or practical, rather than moral. I can't say that creating the plague when we did was entirely moral, but I can say that it was entirely logical."

" That's just cognitive dissonance. You just want to say you have morals, but you're allowed to break your own rules as long as it's practical."

Megatron did not seem to take this accusation well, gesturing to the autobot as the components in his fingers clicked slightly.

"Then explain to me why, when Optimus was infected, you were willing to break your own moral code decrying the cortical psychic patch as a 'savage instrument of mental torture' in order to steal the antidote formula from me?"

"Pfft, well, obviously because it was you in question."

Megatron smiled ever so slightly, the tone of his voice growing ever so slightly accusatory.

"So, if autobot morals do not apply to me, why has my life been spared so many times?"

The autobot glanced away as he took a sip of high grade, replying a bit more quietly than before.

"Well... to be clear, I actually disagreed with Optimus on that..."

"Exactly my point. Doing something moral is not always logical, nor is doing something logical always moral."

"No, but you can't just break your own moral code just because it's practical."

Megatron replied without any hesitation.

"I vividly recall Smokescreen using the spark extractor on my troops, despite such devices also having been allegedly banned by autobots."

Ratchet sat forward slightly, his tone growing fierce.

"Cybertron was at stake! You were going to use the Omega Lock!"

"Is that what it takes for you to bend your own rules? The fate of Cybertron?"

"Cybertron is worth that much."

Megatron smiled, his aura growing calm.

"Then it seems you and I are not so different after all. I find it... strange, yet notable, how two worldviews held by opposing factions disagreed on everything, and yet the motivation for both was exactly the same. We all wanted a better Cybertron."

Ratchet stared out the window, going quiet for a minute before finally responding.

"And for that matter, most everyone I knew... we all wanted the same better Cybertron. Except for-"

"-The Council. I personally knew a few others who would have wanted to keep the caste system in place, but needless to say... they're not around anymore."

The door opened behind them, and Megatron looked back, finding the small white form of Aftershock hugging the door frame, hesitantly yet curiously looking inside. He held out a hand, gesturing for her to approach.

"Ah, Aftershock, come here."

Ratchet had little reaction as the scorpling, having received permission, darted eagerly across the room toward Megatron, where he then proceeded to lift her up into his lap, wrapping one arm around her in something of a passive embrace. The gladiator's aura turned slightly more delighted than he meant it to, prompting Ratchet to glance over at him.

"Well, now it doesn't seem right to keep talking about bioengineered plagues."

Aftershock looked up at Megatron in response, her antennae perking upright.

"What's a plague?"

The gladiator stared at Ratchet for a moment, laughing quietly as he shook his head.

"I can already see the years we'll spend arguing over the 'correct' version of history to be teaching her."

The autobot let out an exasperated sigh, looking away.

"Primus that sounds awful."

Aftershock leaned forward, draping herself awkwardly over Megatron's arm, letting both of hers dangle forward. After a moment, she moved to bury her face into his elbow, proceeding to gnaw on one metal panel that protruded out slightly. Megatron let out a sigh, rolling his eyes slightly as he grabbed Aftershock's head in his other hand and pulled it away from his arm.

"You need to stop doing that."

The scorpling giggled as she flopped back, instead lying across him, resting her head on his other arm and looking up at him.

" You stop it!"

"Listen, only scraplets bite people."

Aftershock merely laughed quietly in response, tilting her head back to look at Ratchet upside down. The autobot met her gaze for a moment, then turned away to take another sip of high grade, staring out the window with a forlorn gaze.

"Why did it take so long?" he muttered. "How did we stay at war for so long?"

Aftershock reached her arms out toward Ratchet.

"You did!" she shouted.

Even though Megatron idly grabbed onto the scorpling's tail, prompting her to frantically reach for it, giggling furiously, the gladiator also stared off into the distance with a troubled expression. As Aftershock finally pulled herself away and ran over toward the window, Megatron glanced down at his hands, which started to shake slightly as he spoke.

"I was so full of revenge, at least until..."

The autobot, while he didn't look at Megatron, radiated a strange aura, a mixture of anger and sympathy. When he spoke, he was quiet, yet deliberate.

"You... deserved everything you got."

The gladiator froze, his eyes widening slightly as he stared off into the distance. The world started to fade away, quickly being devoured by the corner of his mind that still sought to control him. All he saw in that moment was darkness, shrouding the world from him as though he did not deserve to see it. Everything faded as it was ripped from his awareness, and he was left silent, paralyzed, trembling, helpless against the shadows of Unicron that still lingered in his mind. Even though they had not come close to fully controlling him in years, they still tormented him, clawing at his conscience, screaming at him from the depths, their voices only whispers compared to Unicron's, yet they still echoed the thundering voice of a vengeful god, and he once again started to feel the inescapable agony they wrought. Desperately he clutched at his head, somehow hoping he could just reach in and pull them out.

You are nothing , they screamed, sounding like death incarnate. Nothing but a tool. The space around him felt like it started to collapse, stabbing him with shards of rage.

How could one even describe the kind of pain that resulted from your mind being ripped out of your own body? It wasn't any kind of pain one could become desensitized to. After all, Megatron had suffered all manner of various injuries throughout his life, but they were nothing compared to the torture the destroyer had inflicted upon him. Only that... had been agonizing enough to lead him to beg for death.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and a small ray of awareness shone through the darkness, forcing the shadows to part. They began to melt away, and the world started to return. As the momentary nightmare subsided, Megatron started to relax slightly, finally letting go of his head and opening his eyes, where he found Ratchet standing beside him, having been the one to nudge him back to sanity. He winced in pain for a moment as he stared at his hands, fingers unfurling from violently clenched fists. He noticed Aftershock sitting on the floor in front of him, staring at him with wide, unblinking purple eyes, her aura both fearful and curious. Briefly he glanced toward the autobot standing next to him, then looked back as he already started massaging his aching hands. Ratchet clearly didn't want to say anything either. After a moment, however, the gladiator finally spoke.

"So... this is what I deserve, then?"

Ratchet let out a sigh as he buried his face in one hand.

"No, that's not what I... ugh. I only meant that you're... different now, as a result. And if that wasn't the case... we'd still be at war."

Aftershock finally moved, though she still kept her gaze locked on Megatron as she stood up, inching toward him hesitantly, before stepping up to his leg and hugging it. In response, he reached down to caress her head in one hand.

Just as Ratchet returned to his chair, Megatron hesitantly glanced over at him, forcing himself to speak.

"... Thank you for that."

The autobot didn't return the stare, but he did reply.

"It was my fault, so... sorry."

While Ratchet and Megatron would never consider the other a friend, such debates had become common over the three years that had passed since they landed on Aether. Even when discussions boiled over into arguments, they still seemed cathartic, since it was certainly much better to argue over morals than to fight and die over them, and it seemed as though it allowed them to start to come to terms with the past.

As such, Ratchet especially had started to put the war behind him, considering he could see firsthand how Megatron had changed. It was as though Unicron had crushed some part of his spirit, or torn out all vengeance and rage from his core. The autobot had been there to witness the full effects of what it had done to the gladiator. He'd seen Megatron in his catatonic state, unresponsive for days on end, seemingly lost in his own mind with the exception of brief, partial remissions during which he would only acknowledge others with eye contact.

Ratchet had only taken Soundwave's offer to join the decepticons out of desperation, and only because he did not know Megatron was still there. In fact, if he had been granted the opportunity to kill the gladiator right then, he probably would have done it. However, seeing the full extent of Megatron's psychological damage had actually instilled a surprising amount of sympathy in him, and now he felt as though the gladiator had finally paid the price for his crimes.

It was only through the complete destruction of Megatron's mind that the war had finally come to an end, and he had emerged as a person worthy of respect. And Ratchet, for one, was willing to accept that, even though he would never forgive some of the things the decepticons had done in the past.

The room was silent for some time as Megatron and Ratchet both stared out through the window. But finally, the door opened, and Starscream stepped in. As he walked, hands held behind him, narrowed eyes scanning the room, he glanced between the figures in the room and the half-empty bottle of high grade, and laughed briefly before stepping over toward Megatron, standing behind his chair and resting his hands on the gladiator's shoulders.

"Another debate, hmm?"

Upon hearing Starscream's voice, Aftershock, who had been practically glued to the picture window in front of her, turned to look at the seeker.

"Starscream!" she exclaimed. The seeker's response, excluding his attempt at massaging Megatron's shoulders, was to merely glance toward the child, one eye narrowing.

"What?" he finally asked. As though this took some inordinate amount of processing power, Aftershock looked away as though in thought, pulling her tail around her so she could grab it in both hands and gnaw on it. Considering that now, all three of the other mechs in the room were staring at her, she finally started giggling again as she darted across the room, running back toward the door when it opened once more, revealing Soundwave on the other side. The silent mech, without moving, reached over toward Aftershock with his cables, grabbing her and pulling her up into his embrace. Despite how quickly he'd reacted, Soundwave hadn't expected to find the scorpling there, and so he looked back toward the others in the room, delighted but slightly confused as Aftershock held onto him and buried her face in his shoulder.

[There is a ship approaching Aether. The luminoth cannot identify it.]

Megatron and Starscream's expressions both turned solemn in an instant, and the gladiator stood up to face Soundwave.

"So it's not a space pirate vessel?"

[No. I believe it's cybertronian, but I can't determine if it's autobot or decepticon.]

Megatron turned to look down toward Ratchet.

"You didn't call anyone here, did you?"

"I've kept in contact with them, but no."

He turned back to Soundwave, and Starscream lingered beside him.

"How long until it arrives?"

[About two hours.]

The gladiator went silent, seeming to think for a moment. After a minute of him staring blankly into space, however, Starscream glanced at Megatron, finally nudging him. The gladiator seemed to snap out of whatever trance he'd been in, glancing between the other occupants of the room before speaking again.

"I suppose we can only wait and see whose ship it is. Send out the decepticon beacon."

Soundwave gave a silent nod of acknowledgement, and Megatron turned to leave the room. Once the door shut, Starscream's attention turned toward Ratchet instead, and he watched as the autobot poured himself more high grade.

"What was the debate about?" the seeker asked.

"Bioweapons."

Starscream let out a short laugh, but remained silent otherwise. After a moment, he glanced toward Soundwave.

"... What?"

Without a word, Soundwave turned and left.

As the mysterious ship approached the planet, several things became evident that had not been obvious before due to its distance. It was, indeed, a cybertronian ship. Considering that it had to have received the decepticon beacon, but had never responded, it was most likely an autobot vessel. And finally, the difficulty in locating it at any given time showed that the craft was quite small, capable of carrying a few people at most. These facts eased some of the fears lingering amongst many of the decepticons that autobots were coming to attack them. However, without knowing for certain who was coming, the air within the Alterium had grown heavy with anxiety nonetheless. But Soundwave had watched the ship approach, as had the luminoth satellites, and tracked its motion as it steadily encroached upon Aether, falling through the sky in a plume of fire toward the grasslands between Agon and Torvus.

Once this happened, Soundwave and Shockwave departed toward the underused groundbridge room, joined, of course, by Ratchet.

As the three finally set foot on the other side of the portal, a strong gust of wind swayed the tall grasses, and similarly suppressed the small flames that leaked from the tattered hull of a wrecker's ship. Within moments, Ratchet's eyes widened, and he ran toward the craft.

"Wheeljack!"

The decepticons followed him as he rushed toward the hatch, finding smoke billowing from it. Just as the medic was about to rush inside, a hand reached out from the smoke, grabbing the frame of the door. Wheeljack stumbled out after a moment, coughing heavily, one hand covering his eyes. Upon finding the air clear outside, he slowly opened his eyes, first meeting Ratchet's gaze, then glancing over at Soundwave and Shockwave.

"Wait, what?" he muttered.

Just then, a loud metallic sound echoed from the ship, and Arcee came stumbling out just as Wheeljack had. Just as she started to fall to the ground, Ratchet managed to catch her, holding onto her arms as she regained her footing, and looked up at him. Like Wheeljack, she seemed confused for a moment, but her eyes lit up, and she just barely smiled as she got back to her feet.

"What's with the welcoming party?"

Shockwave stepped toward them as he spoke.

"We need to ascertain whether or not you pose a threat to the decepticons."

"No," Wheeljack replied, "not this time around. I never wanted to stay in Iacon."

Arcee continued in step.

"I finally got fed up with it. I'd thought that maybe it would get better once things settled down and more people showed up, but... the council has control over every thing. And now they're trying to... pretty much erase any evidence that the decepticons ever existed."

Ratchet seemed dismayed by this, letting out a sigh.

"What about Bulkhead?"

Wheeljack crossed his arms.

"Bulk doesn't seem to mind. He did say that Iacon's far from perfect, but I think he's... actually happy to just have a home, even if it means working under the council."

"I... can understand that. I imagine that's the only thing giving the council any power."

After a moment, Ratchet looked back at the burning ship.

"So... what happened?"

"Oh. That. There was a lot of electrical interference on the way down. It kinda... fragged up the controls."

Again, Shockwave interjected, Soundwave lingering silently beside him.

"This planet's atmosphere is rife with electrical storms. We might be able to retrofit your ship to withstand them."

The wrecker glared at him in response.

"Nobody touches the Jackhammer but me."

"... Very well."

With that, Wheeljack stepped toward his ship, walking around and briefly inspecting it as the flames finally died down. Arcee, on the other hand, looked toward Soundwave and Shockwave.

"So why'd you guys pick this place?"

The decepticons glanced at each other for a moment, and Soundwave finally spoke.

[In short, we crashed here, and then decided to stay.]

"The slightly longer version," Shockwave continued, "is that we were attacked. I crashed here, and the native population helped to save my life and return me to the ship. Then we destroyed a meteor to protect this planet, were attacked again, and crashed here."

[Then we decided to stay.]

"Wait," Arcee said, "there are natives here?"

"The Luminoth," Ratchet replied. "We know of other races, but the luminoth are a bit isolationist. We only saw the space pirates because they were the ones who attacked us."

"So... you really found a home here, huh?"

In response, Ratchet's aura grew warm, almost delighted, and he couldn't help but smile ever so slightly.

Wheeljack, having examined his ship, walked back toward the others, his aura silent.

"It needs a lot of repairs, but it's nothing I can't fix. It'll take time, though."

Arcee crossed her arms as she glanced up at him.

"So, we're stuck here?"

Wheeljack was silent for a moment, staring at Soundwave and Shockwave before speaking.

"Yeah. I guess we are."

The scientist replied quietly, returning the wrecker's unnerving stare.

"I believe you will find the decepticons more inviting than in previous encounters."

"I hope so... cause it might be a while."

With that, a groundbridge portal opened behind Soundwave, and the decepticons stepped through.

Chapter Text

For a while, the autobots stuck together as Ratchet showed them around the Alterium, and eventually brought them out to the Temple Grounds. Vehicons stared at them rather frequently, but didn't bother to interact with them. However, as the three lingered next to one of the cliff edges, Starscream soon wandered up to them, remaining silent while Arcee spoke.

"-it wasn't even that far, so I just told him I'd drive over there, right? But I had no idea that the bridge collapsed that day, so it took me a whole hour to drive all the way around."

The autobots all turned their attention toward the seeker as he approached, but Ratchet spoke first.

"What do you want?"

Starscream snickered, but he maintained his curious posture.

"Aren't you charming..."

The medic's tone turned slightly defensive as he stared toward the seeker.

"I don't have to pretend to like you."

Wheeljack smirked toward Ratchet as he spoke.

"What, so you just pretend to like us?"

The medic glanced back at him with an equal amount of amusement.

"Oh, you just now noticed?"

"Nice to see you haven't changed, doc."

With that, Ratchet glanced back toward Starscream.

"So what do you want?"

"I know it may be difficult for you to comprehend, but there are people who actually thrive on, and so seek out, social interaction."

"Yeah," Arcee replied, "I don't think any of us are like that."

"And yet, here you are."

Seemingly out of nowhere, Aftershock bolted across the plaza toward the seeker.

"Starscream!"

Leaving him with no time to react, the scorpling ran at him and grabbed onto one of his legs. He seemed to stumble for a moment, but then he glanced around the plaza, his aura growing slightly annoyed and confused.

"Where did you- where are your parents?" he asked. Aftershock looked up at him, giggling briefly, but saying nothing. Arcee smiled down at her, her aura turning delighted.

"What's your name?"

In response, the scorpling merely stared at her, her bewildered expression radiating into her aura. After a second, Starscream crossed his arms and looked down at Aftershock.

"She asked you a question, ladybug."

The scorpling stared back at Arcee, occasionally glancing over toward Wheeljack. Still clinging to Starscream's leg, she finally mumbled an answer.

"Aftershock."

Arcee knelt down as she replied.

"My name's Arcee."

Aftershock remained as she was, lingering beside Starscream, her antennae folded back. After a minute, Starscream reached down and pried the scorpling off of his leg.

"Let go of me... Where are your parents? What are you doing here?"

Aftershock looked up at him, holding her hands to her mouth and starting to gnaw on her fingers.

"They went... umm... up..."

"I think they went to Sanctuary", Ratchet said. Arcee shifted her weight to sit down on the ground in front of Aftershock, and held out a hand toward the scorpling. After a minute, Aftershock finally wandered over to her, taking her hand only to bite Arcee's fingers instead of her own. Starscream let out a sigh upon seeing this.

"Ugh, she'll bite anything she can get her hands on."

"Uhh, just out of curiosity," Wheeljack muttered, keeping his distance somewhat, "who are her parents?"

Starscream responded almost absentmindedly as he stared at Aftershock fiddling with Arcee's hand.

"Soundwave and Shockwave."

The autobot warrior abruptly pulled her hand back upon hearing this, and Wheeljack's aura almost gained a hint of genuine interest. Arcee's voice trailed off as she spoke.

"Soundwave... and..."

The wrecker continued where she had left off.

"I'm not sure which one of them I'd least expect to have a child... I'd sooner believe that Shockwave killed a bunch of children for science or something."

"Oh, it wasn't like they meant to," Starscream said. "Primus knows Shockwave wouldn't deal with that voluntarily. The only reason he did was because it saved his life when he crash landed here, or something to that effect."

"And that was the day the smelting pits froze over, huh? I guess that explains the name."

Aftershock, holding both of Arcee's hands in her own, started swinging them side to side, and the warrior smiled again in response.

"She still turned out cute though."

The seeker growled as he sent a message to Soundwave.

"Aftershock's here at the Temple Grounds... what she was doing here is beyond me."

[Is R-Nal with her?]

"No, she was by herself."

Starscream waited for a response, but received none. Just as he was about to send another message, a groundbridge portal opened, and Shockwave stepped through. For some reason, Arcee in particular seemed to cringe upon seeing the scientist, her aura withdrawing and turning hostile. Wheeljack glanced at her as she stood up, considering Aftershock immediately ran toward Shockwave. The seeker, on the other hand, growled as he held his hands to his hips.

"I messaged Soundwave, not you."

The scientist reached to pick the scorpling up, holding her with his gun arm. He emitted no aura that Starscream could notice, and he stared directly at the seeker.

"Soundwave is reprogramming the luminoth satellites to better recognize cybertronian vessels. My contribution is already complete, so I am more available."

"You two are basically interchangeable, aren't you?"

"... Not... in the slightest."

Shockwave soon noticed Arcee's musing stare, and returned it with the unflinching gaze of his singular eye. However, neither one said anything, and so the only thing audible between them was Aftershock quietly muttering nonsense to herself. After a minute of tense silence, Wheeljack stepped over beside the warrior, hesitantly placing a hand on her shoulder.

"He'll win a staring contest, you know."

Arcee glanced at him for a second, then looked back at Shockwave.

"Things really have changed... haven't they?"

"They have."

Starscream glanced between them before finally turning to Arcee.

"Wait, I talk to you and you're fine, but you see him and you get all angsty?"

The warrior turned to glare at him.

"Don't think for a second , Starscream, that I've forgotten what you did to Cliffjumper."

Instantly, the seeker's wings drooped back, his aura retracted inward, and he shivered somewhat, though he tried to maintain a semblance of calm.

"I... uhh..."

Wheeljack crossed his arms as he stood beside Arcee, staring at the scientist.

"And you... Because of you, I've watched wreckers suffer in ways I wouldn't wish on anyone."

Shockwave had no response to this other than to look away from him, at least until Ratchet stepped between them.

"Please," he said, not looking at either party directly, "there's nothing any of us can do to change the past now. But the war is over. We have to just... go from there."

"What," Arcee interjected, "so we just forgive everything the decepticons have done?"

"I didn't say that, did I!?" Ratchet yelled. "Do you think it's been easy for me to see Megatron every day and not stick a scalpel through his spark? Every day , I considered it."

"You are very fortunate," muttered Shockwave, "that Soundwave was not here to hear you say that."

Ratchet turned to point threateningly toward the scientist.

"I wasn't done, Shockwave."

Aftershock's antennae folded down as she started to cower from the autobot's angry stare, whimpering quietly as she turned to bury herself in Shockwave's armor as much as she could. In response, the scientist held a hand to gently pet the back of her head, and without another word, turned and walked away.

Ratchet let out a sigh, but looked back toward Arcee as she spoke.

"So? Why didn't you do it? I would have."

"Because," the medic continued, "and I honestly can't believe I'm saying this, but he's suffered enough. Neither of you were there, you didn't see what-... everyone here has been through a lot. Even you."

He gestured toward Starscream, who looked away and crossed his arms in response, even as his aura turned anxious, and he withdrew it further toward himself as he replied.

"I... I don't know what you're talking about."

"The building collapse? Physical abuse? Self harming? Please, even I can tell that Megatron's given you some sort of panic disorder-"

Starscream's aura suddenly flared with rage, and he sliced through the air with his blade fingers before holding his hands in front of him, his fingers locked into place like claws, his whole body trembling as he stepped toward Ratchet. The depths of the emotions that suddenly possessed him overpowered his aura, leaving it full of nothing but static, and he very deliberately held one lethally sharp finger to point toward the medic. When he finally spoke, his voice was but a whisper, despite the fact that he clearly had started struggling to breathe.

"You... don't know... any of what I've gone through, autobot... understand?"

Ratchet, having not expected that reaction, stared at the seeker, somewhat stunned, though after a moment his aura turned to one of sympathy. Arcee and Wheeljack similarly stared, unsure of how to react. Considering that Ratchet did not respond, however, Starscream glanced between the three autobots, smothered by the silence. He became even more restless, his panicked trembling most visible in his hands as he backed away slightly, his wings folded down, his posture like that of a terrified animal.

"Don't... Don't look at me like that!"

Ratchet took a step toward him, holding his hands up somewhat.

"Starscream, I didn't mean to-"

"Shut up!" the seeker screamed. "You don't-..."

Starscream stood frozen for a moment, before finally running toward the cliff edge and jumping off, transforming as he fell and flying off into the distance. As the sound of his engine faded into the tranquility of the Temple Grounds, Arcee turned her stare back to Ratchet.

"What... the hell was that?"

The medic let out something between a sigh and a growl as he shook his head.

"Him and Megatron are so fragile."

Starscream flew off toward the Voulge as fast as his vehicle mode would allow, breaking the sound barrier as he did so.

Ratchet was not wrong in anything he'd said, but how was that possible? Of all the people to not only notice but witness firsthand his crippling panic, why did it have to be the autobots? He hardly ever interacted with Ratchet, and of course, he hadn't even seen the other two in years. He had tried so desperately to hide these weaknesses he knew he had, that for someone he barely knew to so blatantly acknowledge them...

He struggled to focus as he flew; his mind continued to linger on what had just happened. Why did the mere mention of a panic disorder immediately trigger such overwhelming fear in him!? Why hadn't it gone away when they had settled on Aether!?

He transformed and landed on the top deck of the Voulge, taking a moment to try and regain the outward appearance of tranquility before stepping inside. Still, he couldn't stop shaking as he strode through the halls, hoping he could make it to his quarters before anyone saw him. However, as he turned one corner, he walked past Knockout, who must have instantly noticed the conflicting chaos in his aura, given that he immediately turned to follow the seeker.

"Whhhat happened?"

"I'm fine."

"Uhh... no you're not."

"Shut up."

Starscream tried to ignore him, as well as the terror that had started to return. He held his hands close to him and started fidgeting as he walked, though Knockout followed him closely, briefly looking around to make sure no one else was nearby before speaking again.

"Starscream, I can help you-"

"I said shut up!"

Knockout rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Look, I don't know why you're so intent on torturing yourself like this, but I can help you, just let me get-"

The seeker whipped around, grabbing Knockout's face with one hand and shoving him away. His aura burned with static, a torrent of pent-up apprehension leaving him dangerously close to firing one of his missiles at someone out of sheer hysteria. He needed to hide, now.

Fortunately, Knockout backed off, wandering away toward someplace he didn't care about, allowing Starscream to finally reach his quarters. As soon as the door closed behind him, he sat down on his bed and buried his face in his hands, trying in vain to quell his shaking.

It was strange how, despite the emotional turmoil that smothered him, his mind was completely blank. He could only focus on the darkness he saw, the quiet sounds of the ship around him, the chill of the air, and yet he still couldn't stop trembling, and he still couldn't breathe.

He wasn't sure how long exactly it had been before the door opened suddenly, and Knockout walked in. For some reason, this felt like an imminent threat, causing Starscream to scramble away from him, backing into the opposite corner of the room, priming both his missiles and pointing them toward the medic.

He could hardly recognize himself anymore. In the moment, his fear had all but consumed him.

Knockout, bless his horrible spark, merely rolled his eyes as he walked across the room toward Starscream without the slightest hint of hesitation. The seeker, hardly able to catch his breath, again tried to back away from Knockout, only for the medic to grab onto his arm. Without thinking, Starscream clawed at him with his other, leaving three parallel gashes across his armor. Knockout, of course, looked down at himself, letting out an annoyed groan.

"Damn it, Starscream, why are you so difficult!?"

Contrary to anything the seeker had expected, Knockout soon grabbed his other arm, holding both behind him to pin him rather forcefully to the wall, before taking a small syringe in his other hand and injecting him with its contents.

Starscream stared blankly forward as his mind suddenly went hazy, his whole body starting to feel heavy and weak. After a few seconds, his legs started to give out, but Knockout held onto him, lowering him to the floor. The medic sat down across from Starscream, briefly holding a hand to the scratches across his chest.

"Primus, Starscream, I just buffed this yesterday."

The seeker leaned against the wall, barely able to sit upright considering his body was all but limp. However, his shaking had finally started to subside, his breathing slowed, and for once he was actually able to catch his breath. He still stared blankly forward, even as he responded to Knockout.

"Don't you... buff that every day?"

"Every other day."

Starscream was silent for a moment as he merely sat there, able to feel as all of the terror he'd felt before gradually melted away into lethargy. Finally, he glanced toward Knockout.

"What did... What did you just..."

"It's a... sedative."

The medic looked away, his aura turning solemn as he continued.

"You know... Breakdown used to have panic attacks too. And like you, he'd attack anyone who got anywhere near him. But I was the only person he trusted. And even then, he hated the idea of using medication to help with it. So I'd sit with him... for hours... until he'd calm down enough to be okay leaving the room."

"So... you just force it on me?"

"I'm not willing to watch you go through this without doing some thing to help, but I'm also not willing to stay with you for three hours because I don't think either of us would want that."

"And yet... you were willing to expend that effort for your lab assistant?"

"He wasn't-"

Knockout let out a sigh as he held his head in one hand. He seemed pensive for a moment, his aura cycling between annoyance, sympathy, and some sort of overwhelming despair, like his spark was yearning endlessly for something he could not have. Finally, he lowered his hands, but looked away from Starscream as he spoke.

"I don't even know why I'm telling you this, but... Breakdown was my conjunx."

Even as lethargic as Starscream was, both physically and mentally, this still caught his attention. But before he could respond, Knockout held up a hand to silence him.

"I know, I know," the medic said, "I don't seem like the type, and Breakdown and I didn't have anything in common, and we didn't ever look like conjunx, but we were. And it wasn't recent."

"That... makes some of the things I said to you seem really awkward now..."

"Oh, neither of us ever believed in exclusive relationships."

Starscream stared at him, trying to process what exactly that meant, but his mind had become foggy, and as such he could barely think.

"Wait, you..."

"Why am I even telling you this?" Knockout interjected. "Will you just fall asleep already so I can leave?"

The seeker hadn't realized how tired he'd become until hearing that. Still, his curiosity persevered.

"So... you and Breakdown were conjunx... and you still saw other people?"

"Yup."

"Mm..."

Starscream's fatigue soon started to overtake him, and briefly he closed his eyes, only to find himself sliding against the wall to slump to the floor. Part of him wanted to move, to at least go sleep on his bed rather than lying awkwardly across the floor, but the rest of him was not only lethargic, but remarkably comfortable. Knockout stared at him, muttering a moment later.

"Uhh... okay, maybe I gave you too much."

Starscream could only manage a quiet, contented moan in response.

As Shockwave walked along the well-worn path through the forest toward the Alterium, Aftershock clung to him, looking around at the canopy of trees overhead, trying to locate some of the birds that sang out into the otherwise quiet air.

"Scorpling..." the scientist muttered, catching Aftershock's attention. "What were you doing at the Temple Grounds by yourself?"

In response, the child's aura turned anxious, and she started mumbling.

"I... watch things."

"I mean, why were you there?"

"I don't know..."

A groundbridge portal opened beside them, though Shockwave continued walking as normal. Soundwave stepped through the portal, finding himself almost directly beside the scientist, and so hardly had to alter his gait to walk with him almost in lock step. Aftershock reached out a hand toward Soundwave, who seemed all too eager to take it and hold it in his own. The scientist's aura grew amused as he spoke.

"Why are you the only one with visually impressive groundbridge privileges?"

[I'm probably the only one who can manage visually impressive groundbridges. I would trust you and Ratchet with groundbridge control, but I don't think either of you are creative enough to use it to its full potential.]

"... I would challenge that accusation."

Soundwave looked over at the scientist, his aura turning equally amused to match Shockwave's.

[You would?]

"If I had groundbridge control, I would bridge into unoccupied rooms and go about my business as though I am simply everywhere at all times."

[Nice.]

Within moments, Soundwave accessed the Alterium's computer system, adding both Shockwave and Ratchet to the groundbridge master control whitelist. The scientist glanced at him, and Soundwave returned his gaze, smiling behind his visor.

[I'd like to see that.]

"But why-"

Ratchet messaged him in turn, sounding equally confused.

"Did you... mean to give me groundbridge control privileges?"

[Yes.]

"... Well... thank you, but why?"

[You and Shockwave are the only other people who are experienced enough with groundbridge physics for me to trust. But I also want to see which one of us can use it most creatively.]

"That will not be me."

[We shall see.]

"... Uhh... Okay..."

The air went quiet again, and the two continued to walk through the forest, passing by a couple luminoth as they strode past. Shockwave finally set Aftershock down, where she proceeded to run, giggling, toward a nearby mushroom beside the base of a tree. She crouched down next to it, and reached out a hand to poke its cap repeatedly. Soundwave and Shockwave walked past her, watching her but saying nothing, so that after a minute, the scorpling realized they had moved on and consequently ran to catch up to them. Soundwave looked down at her as she moved to walk between him and the scientist.

[You shouldn't run off by yourself.]

"Why?"

[If something happens to you and no one knows where you are, we can't help you.]

"Ah!"

She darted forward to investigate another mushroom, and Soundwave let out a sigh, sending a message to Shockwave.

[She's impossible.]

Aftershock, rather than just poking this particular mushroom, picked it up, squishing it repeatedly. Soundwave reached out with one of his cables in response, grabbing the scorpling's arm just as she was about to try and eat it. All while still walking, Soundwave twisted her arm, causing her to drop the mushroom as she let out a brief cry of pain. He dragged her back toward him and Shockwave, then finally let her go.

[Don't eat mushrooms.]

"Why?"

Shockwave responded instead.

"Cybertronian biology does not respond well to fungal pathogens."

"But it's squishy! "

"It could also cause an infection that could kill you."

Aftershock let out a dismayed noise in response, but nonetheless followed alongside Soundwave and Shockwave as they made their way back to the ship.

Chapter Text

Wheeljack sat on the ground beside his ship, the space around him covered in the various panels and components he removed from the hull. The sky was an overcast gray, and a chill wind blew across the plains without any resistance. It wasn't necessarily pleasant weather, but that didn't really matter. Only an ice storm would really have deterred Wheeljack from working on his ship. The problem was that there was a lot to repair, and some of it was beyond his expertise. Nonetheless, he took advantage of the quiet, doing whatever basic, immediate repairs were most urgent, when the sound of a groundbridge caught his attention, and he glanced over to find Ratchet stepping toward him. The wrecker turned back to his ship, remaining silent just as Ratchet did. Neither one spoke, even as Wheeljack removed yet another panel from the hull of the Jackhammer, uncovering burnt wires and mangled tubing. Ratchet, considering the wrecker was ignoring him, walked up to the ship as well, placing a hand on it, seeming to inspect some of the visible damage. Finally, after what felt like several minutes, Wheeljack glared toward the medic.

"Did you need somethin'?"

Ratchet cast a fleeting glance toward the wrecker as he crossed his arms.

"I was going to ask if you... needed any help with this, but it's not like you let me help last time."

"... Well, the damage is more extensive this time around. Damn lightning really did a number on it."

With that, Ratchet stepped over to look at the mess of frayed and melted wiring from which Wheeljack was removing components.

"You're not... in a hurry to leave, are you?"

"No, I just..."

The wrecker stopped working for a moment, though he glanced away from Ratchet, staring out into the turbulent sky.

"This place, it's... a lot to take in."

The medic knelt down beside Wheeljack, picking up the mangled form of a surge protector. Even the best cybertronian tech couldn't withstand the power of nature, it seemed. He spoke hesitantly, his voice quiet, his aura withdrawn.

"It's, uhh... it's been lonely. Even though the decepticons aren't enemies anymore... it's not like I consider them friends."

"Sure," Wheeljack said with a smirk, "but since when do you make friends with anyone?"

Ratchet rolled his eyes, then moved to sit beside the wrecker, glancing toward the melted conduit he was working on.

"... You weren't kidding about the lightning damage."

"I know," Wheeljack replied. "On the way down it shorted out all my hydraulics, instruments, everything. The thrusters were all stuck at full burn and I was only left with the manual controls, so I was basically... flying a giant rocket-powered brick."

"Well, and knowing how you fly, I'm surprised there's not more damage."

Wheeljack turned to Ratchet, reaching over to punch him lightly.

"Hey, I'd like to see you do better."

The wrecker reached his hand into the space that had been covered by the hull panel, and after a moment, pulled out a small, round object with a fan on one side, its surface having been blackened by fire. He turned it over in his hands for a second before speaking.

"Wow, I guess the cooling fans really were on fire."

"You really should let Shockwave do some retrofits on your ship-"

"Not a chance. It's one thing to land on a planet full of 'cons and not attack them, but they haven't earned my trust. Even if they've earned yours."

"Wheeljack... there are no autobots or decepticons anymore."

"Sure there are. I'll be an autobot 'till the day I die. And you-"

The wrecker gestured toward Ratchet, finding that, where there had once been an autobot symbol on his chest, there was nothing now. Wheeljack's aura retreated inward, and he grew tense as he spoke.

"What'd they do to you?"

"Nothing. If being an autobot means following the council, then it's a cause I no longer wish to be part of."

"The council? Since when do they control things?"

"Wheeljack, have you even been to Iacon recently?"

"Yeah, and I couldn't stand it. But I'm still an autobot, and a wrecker."

"And what does that mean anymore?"

Wheeljack's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"Look, I don't know what kind of crazy ideas Megatron's managed to get into your head, but-"

Ratchet's aura flared in response.

"If you think for a second that Megatron's got some kind of influence on me, then you don't know me. I know where I stand. I just want to stand as far away from the council as possible. And it just so happens that the decepticons are standing there with me."

"I thought you said there were no decepticons anymore."

Ratchet let out an aggravated groan as he looked away.

"Of anyone to crash land here," he mumbled, "why'd it have to be you?"

"Well, I'm sorry we were trying to pay you a visit, doc."

Upon hearing the last word, Ratchet stared back at the wrecker, holding up a hand as though wanting to say something, though all that escaped him was an exasperated sigh. Wheeljack, on the other hand, smirked ever so slightly upon seeing the medic's reaction. He was about to speak, when something seemed to catch his attention, and his eyes started scanning the area around the ship. He stood up, looking up at the sky.

"You hear that?"

Ratchet stood up just as the wrecker did.

"Yeah..."

It sounded like a mechanical roar somewhere off in the distance, but it was getting louder. After a minute, a faint glow was visible through the clouds, and a ship of some sort descended through the cloud ceiling. It was clearly not cybertronian, or likely luminoth, given that it was quite small. It was a strange lumpy gray craft, trailing black smoke and wobbling as it careened across the sky, somehow managing to stay airborne as it flew overhead. Its engines revved up, the sound growing even louder as it ascended back up into the clouds, and disappeared. Wheeljack glanced toward Ratchet, noticing his stunned expression and horrified aura.

"What the hell was that?" the wrecker asked.

In response, Ratchet merely opened a comm link.

"Soundwave?"

[Yes?]

"Space Pirates."

There was silence on the other end for a moment.

[Are you sure?]

"Do I have to be?"

Another minute went by in silence, until a groundbridge opened, hovering in the air. Soundwave, in his vehicle mode, flew out through it, ascending up into the clouds and vanishing from view, just as the sound of his engine faded into silence. Wheeljack turned to Ratchet once more, his aura seeming confused.

"Space pirates?"

"That's what the luminoth call them, at least. They've attacked us before. We should-"

Ratchet reflexively held up a hand as something flew by him, and it took him a moment to realize that it was gunfire from another ship still hidden in the clouds. Several more purple shots struck the ground nearby, and immediately, he and Wheeljack ran back toward the Jackhammer, momentarily taking cover. The wrecker drew his blasters, and hesitantly glanced around the corner, only for the gunfire to return.

"Ah, scrap, I can't even see what's shooting at us..."

Seemingly out of nowhere, another energy shot flew at them from directly in front of them, striking the hull of the ship just between them. Naturally, they each retreated in opposite directions, and both transformed and began driving across the plains. Ratchet opened another comm link, swerving out of the way of gunfire as he drove.

"Soundwave!"

He only heard static on the other end, meaning something nearby was jamming the signal.

Ratchet turned back toward Wheeljack, though there was no way he would ever be able to catch up to him given their choices in vehicle modes. One of the two ships that had been shooting at them finally descended from out of the clouds, hovering motionless above the ground, as did the second one a moment later. Wheeljack stopped and transformed, aiming one blaster at each ship, and Ratchet soon managed to catch up to him and transform as well, although he had no weapons to aim at them.

The two vessels each opened doors along their sides, and four alien forms jumped out, using jetpacks to stay afloat. While the air was anything but silent, no one moved, at least until one of the ships opened fire again. Wheeljack began firing toward one of the pirates as he backed up, glancing toward Ratchet after a moment.

"Were you going to just stand there or shoot them?"

"I don't have guns!"

"You-"

The wrecker actually took a moment to stare at him with a stunned expression, at least until the aerotroopers each began firing missiles at the autobots. They both darted out of the way as explosions rocked the ground, sending dirt and clumps of flaming grass up into the air. Ratchet tried to send a groundbridge command back to the ship, only to receive an error signal in response.

"Wheeljack, I can't bridge us out of here. They must have a signal jammer somewhere."

The wrecker fired a few rounds at one aerotrooper, whose jetpack soon starting billowing black smoke. Within seconds, the device exploded, sending off several stray missiles and consuming the pirate who'd been using it. Wheeljack glanced over at Ratchet, gesturing back toward the Jackhammer.

"There's a shotgun in my ship."

"You expect me to fight airborne pirates with a shotgun!? "

Wheeljack turned back toward the medic, actually reaching toward him and grabbing his arm, jerking him forward almost violently.

"Hey, last I checked, you don't have any guns, so it's the least you could do."

Ratchet shoved him away, his aura radiating fury.

"Don't start thinking you can order me around when you don't even-"

He bolted out of the way as another flurry of missiles rocked the ground around him, prompting him to transform once again and drive as fast as he could back toward the ship. While the aerotroopers seemed to linger around Wheeljack, however, a third pirate ship descended from the clouds in front of Ratchet as he drove, and soon spawned its own troopers. Before he could react, a missile flew at him and exploded, sending him flying through the air, transforming before hitting the ground and tumbling across the grass. When he finally stopped, he looked up to find Wheeljack still shooting at the pirates who surrounded him, and occasional bursts of light visible through the clouds. Someone must have been fighting them up there, but he couldn't see what was going on.

Another missile exploded beside him, and frantically Ratchet got back to his feet, running toward the ship. When he finally ran inside, he paused for a moment in the brief reprieve, noticing the scattered placement of everything within the vessel, likely due to the crash. A metallic thud echoed through the ship as gunfire struck the hull, and Ratchet grabbed the shotgun from the floor. Where Wheeljack even got such a weapon was another question, considering he'd never seen the wrecker use such a thing...

The gun made a satisfying series of clicks as he readied it, and stepped outside, aiming toward the first aerotrooper he saw, and fired. The pirate was jolted back, and frantically started reaching back toward his jetpack. After a second, he fell to the ground, leaving his jetpack to fly upward before exploding. Ratchet glanced toward one of the other troopers as missiles again started striking the hull of the Jackhammer, and had to fire several shots before the second pirate's jetpack exploded, taking him with it.

It was in times like this that Ratchet wished he'd spent more time in battle during the war. Despite the obvious danger, it was exhilarating, and the impact he made was clear and obvious. Alas, he had been arguably more useful tending to the injured than going out onto the battlefield himself, even though it, at times, hadn't felt quite as rewarding.

He glanced up upon finding Wheeljack driving back toward him, followed closely by two more aerotroopers. He raised his shotgun again, but waited until the wrecker transformed nearby, pointing his guns toward the pirates as well.

"Damn it," Wheeljack said, "I'm trying to fix my ship and they keep shooting at it."

Ratchet fired at one of the troopers, landing a hit on his second shot, causing the jetpack to explode as they seemed awfully eager to do. Wheeljack fired at the second pirate, but when the jetpack began smoking, the pirate instead flew toward the wrecker, diving at full speed toward the ground and exploding violently. Wheeljack was thrown back, slamming into the side of his ship where he slumped to the ground, motionless.

The blast had thrown Ratchet off balance as well, but he nonetheless scrambled over to the wrecker, rolling him onto his back to make sure he was okay. The sound of engines once again caught his attention, however, and looked up to find two more pirate vessels descending from the clouds, as well as a third of a different type, looking more like a gunship than the others.

Oh, scrap.

Before he could even react, however, several missile blasts struck one ship from above, sending it careening into a second, sending both plummeting to the ground. The gunship seemed to try to flee, only to be met with several well-placed shots that struck a small vent on its front. The hull was suddenly enveloped in flames, and the craft began spinning as it fell to the ground. A black decepticon jet dove out of the clouds, swinging upward before transforming, and landing on the ground.

Ratchet recognized this particular vehicon, considering her distinctive, and rather striking, black armor and red accents, although he hadn't ever spoken to her. She was slightly more bulky, and considerably more well-armed than the other seekers, but it seemed to suit her well. As she landed, she glanced toward Ratchet, holding a hand to her hip, but it was the autobot who spoke first.

"You couldn't have shown up any earlier?"

The black seeker stared at him with displeasure as she meandered toward him.

"Well, it's not like I had six other ships to take care of or anything. I guess autobots aren't quite as resilient as I'd heard. Oh, and you're welcome."

"Suddenly I see why Starscream hates you so much."

"And since when does his opinion matter?"

Wheeljack started to stir, and as such, Ratchet turned his attention back toward the wrecker.

"Wheeljack?"

The wrecker slowly opened his eyes, then moved to hold a hand to his head as he spoke.

"Ugh... What happened?"

"Lots of explosions, mostly."

"Right... yeah..."

Wheeljack moved to sit upright, though he still held his head, seemingly in pain. He glanced up at the seeker who stood before him, and his aura withdrew reflexively.

"And who are you supposed to be?"

The seeker crossed her arms as she replied.

"My name's Typhoon, and I just saved your life, so you're welcome for that."

Wheeljack rolled his eyes, glancing toward Ratchet.

"Is being unlikeable just inherent to all seekers?"

"I think it is."

Typhoon let out an aggravated sigh.

"Really," she groaned, "would it kill you to show some respect?"

"Respect is earned ," Ratchet said, "not demanded."

The black seeker rolled her eyes before turning and running off to jump into the air and transform, spinning through the air as she shot upward into the clouds.

With the air finally silent, Wheeljack stood up, followed by Ratchet, and they both gazed at the further damaged remains of the Jackhammer for a minute. The wrecker again seemed to notice something, however, and glanced around the area. Upon realizing what was making the quiet scuffling noise, the two walked over toward a space pirate crawling through the grass. He'd been one Ratchet had shot, who fell from his jetpack instead of exploding. His armor was dented and covered in smeared dirt, and he left a trail of green blood as he dragged himself across the ground. One of his legs was mangled, despite the armor paneling, looking like a mass of metal and exoskeleton shards and bleeding flesh. He flopped over onto his back as the autobots approached, trying to scramble away from them, his yellow eyes wide as he stared.

"Wait, please..."

Ratchet knelt down beside the pirate, considering he'd never heard one speak before.

"Why are you here?"

"Please... please don't kill me..."

"Then tell me what the Space Pirates are doing on Aether."

The pirate glanced between Ratchet and Wheeljack for a moment, seeming to finally catch his breath before speaking.

"I don't even know why, but Science Team ordered us to come here... Something to... Something with the Leviathan that fell here."

"Are they looking for phazon?"

"No, that's the thing..."

The pirate shifted his weight somewhat as he continued.

"There's tons of phazon back on Urtraghus, and the phazon mines on Tallon IV are still active... I don't know why they told us to come here. I heard somewhere that... this order came from Mother Brain herself... but I don't know. I would tell you our whole plan if I knew it, but I don't, I swear."

"Who's Mother Brain?"

"You... you don't...?"

Before he could continue, another voice cried out.

"Traitor!"

Another pirate seemed to materialize out of thin air, folding out a glowing scythe from his arm and stabbing the crippled pirate lying on the ground. Ratchet scrambled back, startled, deploying his own blades, while Wheeljack drew his swords. Before either of them could attack, however, the pirate turned to face them, and faded from sight. Wheeljack cautiously stepped forward, watching for any sign of movement.

"Come out, coward!"

Much to his surprise, the pirate actually responded, though he still remained cloaked, and was clearly running away as he spoke.

"Hail, Mother Brain! Hail the Dark Hunter!"

Wheeljack's posture relaxed, until finally he sheathed his swords, prompting Ratchet to do the same with his arm blades. After a minute, the medic seemed to realize something, and turned toward Wheeljack.

"Wait, if it's the Leviathan they want..."

"What? What the hell is going on?"

Ratchet opened a comm link to the entirety of the decepticon high command.

"Space Pirates are here on Aether, they're going to attack the energon mines."

Megatron replied after only a moment.

"And what makes you say that?"

"Well, one of them told me they were here for the Leviathan, and then another one called him a traitor and killed him, so I'm inclined to believe what I heard."

"Soundwave, have you found where they're coming from?"

[Not yet. The gunships all seem to be heading toward the mines.]

"Railgun!"

"Yes my Lord?"

"Evacuate and lock down the energon mines immediately."

"Y-Yes sir."

"All decepticons, convene at the Alterium immediately. There is Space Pirate activity on Aether."

A groundbridge opened beside Ratchet, and he glanced toward Wheeljack.

"You know, it was nice and peaceful and quiet until you got here."

"Sure."

With that, the two stepped through the portal.

Chapter Text

The Alterium was, of course, abuzz with activity when Soundwave finally returned, having sent Laserbeak to maintain surveillance in his stead. As he stepped into the meeting room this time, it was much more crowded than usual, though Shockwave, of course, had extended him the courtesy of saving his seat. Among the regular attendees, at least from when they used to have meetings, were a number of extra vehicons who stood behind the occupied chairs; Wheeljack and Arcee were also there for some reason, sitting to either side of Ratchet. In the center of the room were the luminoth; U-Mos, J-Syr, three who Soundwave could only assume were the three regional Sentinels, A-Scl, and several others, including R-Nal, who Soundwave and Shockwave only knew because Aftershock had seemed to grow fond of his two children.

The somewhat awkward height difference between the cybertronian-sized tables and the smaller luminoth seemed to go unnoticed as Starscream finally entered, prompting Megatron to step toward the middle of the room.

"Alright," the gladiator said, instantly silencing the muttering in the room. "This is what we know so far. Space Pirates have been spotted on Aether in the western plains."

As he spoke, Soundwave activated a screen along the back wall, displaying a regional map showing where the ships had been found. Beside it, a map of the planet came up, rotating to show the location of the energon mines on the other side of the planet. U-Mos, his wings drifting gently behind him, floated up slightly into the air, gesturing to the map.

"They only seem interested in the Leviathan crater you're mining. No Pirate vessels have been seen anywhere near our settlements, nor have we been able to locate any flagships in orbit, though we can assume there is at least one."

One of the other luminoth hesitantly spoke a moment later.

"They've hijacked our satellites for their communication, though. We can't use them currently, but it might be possible to locate them that way."

Megatron turned toward Soundwave, needing only glance at him for Soundwave to nod in response, already knowing what he was going to ask. With that, Megatron instead turned to Railgun.

"The energon mines were locked down?"

"Yes, master."

"If they tried to get in, how long do you think it would take?"

"Well... the entryway was sealed with a... two meter thick steel alloy reinforced blast door that locks from the inside... and that tunnel is at the thinnest point between the outside and the inside of the meteor, so... the only way they'll get in is to either cut through the door or dig through the rock. Either way, we probably have a few hours at least."

"Good."

"Yes," U-Mos chimed in, "that should give us time to figure out what their motive is."

The gladiator gestured toward Ratchet, drawing the Sentinel's attention as well.

"Tell us what you heard, if you would."

The medic seemed somewhat uncomfortable considering the amount of attention suddenly focused on him, but he nonetheless spoke, albeit while gazing at the map on the screen.

"So I... asked one of them what they were doing here. He said he wasn't sure, but it had to do with the Leviathan, and they aren't just looking for phazon. He said something about this order coming from a... Mother Brain, and then another pirate called him a traitor and killed him."

This seemed to pique the luminoth's interest, their antennae all perking up. J-Syr muttered under her breath in response.

"Oh, that's bad."

U-Mos glanced at her, then back toward Megatron as he spoke.

"Yes, this... could be quite serious. Mother Brain is the organic supercomputer who effectively controls the whole of the Space Pirates at present. I'm not sure what she wants with us, but..."

"Wait," Starscream muttered, "they take orders from a computer?"

"Mother Brain is more than that. She was created by the Chozo, and is both the pinnacle of their technological achievement, and their... greatest failure. She's the reason the Chozo are extinct, and she's since... adopted the Space Pirates as subordinates, in a sense. If she has taken interest in Aether... then this must be something of galactic significance. I would hesitate to strike until we know what's going on."

Megatron glanced down at the Sentinel for a moment.

"And I would strike now, before they have the chance to complete whatever mission brought them here in the first place."

The room was silent for a second, until finally one of the other luminoth broke the silence, a man with pale green markings who floated over the floor just as U-Mos did.

"For what it's worth, I agree with Megatron."

The Sentinel turned to look at him, and he continued.

"The Space Pirates are working without a true base, which means anything they're using is portable, temporary... We have an advantage over them while they set things up, and with every second that passes, we lose a little bit of that advantage."

U-Mos remained silent, and Starscream spoke instead.

"But obviously we can't just go in blind. We need some idea of what we're dealing with."

Soundwave projected a surveillance image to the screen from Laserbeak, showing the Leviathan and its surrounding infrastructure from what must have been close to its altitude limit. The room's occupants all turned their attention to the image as Soundwave zoomed in on the still image, highlighting the pixelated forms of Pirate devices scattered near the entrance to the mines.

Because the meteor's impact site was almost exactly on the opposite side of the planet from the Temple Grounds, frequent travel was somewhat cumbersome, and so an ancillary settlement had started to grow around the crater. But based on the images Soundwave had received, it looked as though the Pirates had bombed the town from orbit, leaving any formerly identifiable structures as little more than piles of rubble. But that would have to wait.

As Laserbeak continued to send him data, the image on screen slowly grew sharper, and he zoomed in further, focusing his attention on the entrance to the mines. U-Mos lifted himself up further, pointing toward two particular structures placed alongside the entryway. He hesitated, but finally he spoke.

"These are anti-aircraft guns. They're already setting up defenses."

Steelwing, of all people, responded.

"They have portable anti-aircraft turrets?"

While U-Mos turned to face him, it was J-Syr who replied.

"They're effective, but they're by no means hardy. It would take three people, at most, to sabotage one. And I'm assuming Pirates will be actively defending them."

"But they're both out in the open..."

The green luminoth interjected again.

"And, they're likely guarded by signal jammers. The Space Pirates may not be able to decode our encryptions, but they're certainly good at preventing communication by... crude methods. They've flooded our satellites with a stream of junk data in order to take up all the usable bandwidth until they want to use it."

"So," Steelwing asked, "we can't bridge in?"

Starscream muttered quietly in response.

"And we can't attack from above until those turrets are gone, which means we'll be stuck with a ground attack until then..."

The room went silent, focusing on U-Mos as he drifted forward, seeming as though he wanted to speak. Finally, he turned to A-Scl.

"Could we deploy Quadraxis?"

Her eyes widened slightly in response, and she glanced away as she seemed lost in thought for a moment.

"He already recognizes Pirates as threats, so I see no reason why we couldn't. The problem would be getting him there. Obviously we can't use an airdrop, at least not while those turrets are up..."

Megatron finally worked his way back into the conversation, holding his hands behind him as his aura radiated an unwavering determination, like motivation in its purest form.

"As Starscream said, if we cannot use the groundbridge or attack from the air, then we will have to fight on the ground until either the turrets or the scramblers are disabled. This should be the first objective in retaking the mines."

"Wait," J-Syr said, "we can't just attack a ground facility without knowing where their ships are. They could attack from orbit so long as they remain hidden."

"My bigger concern," U-Mos replied, "is their ability to contact Tourian and request backup."

He glanced up at Megatron for a moment.

"Mother Brain, I mean."

The gladiator glanced back at the screen.

"So we need to sever their communications."

The Sentinel of Sanctuary Fortress, I-Kul, gestured toward the screen as she spoke.

"They should have some sort of ground-based command center, with a satellite uplink tower for relaying signals up to their ships, or in this case, our satellites. It just happens to be very fortunate for us that Aether's atmosphere contains too much interference for them to use their regular satellites. They launched a few when they built their base in Agon, but they clearly aren't working."

Although it went unnoticed by the rest of the room, Wheeljack sent a silent message to Ratchet and Arcee.

[So all that lightning is actually good for something, for once.]

They glanced at him momentarily, but neither replied.

Although Soundwave had been listening to the meeting, his mind had drifted somewhat as well, focusing on trying to decrypt the occasional signals to make their way to the satellites. Finally, it seemed as though he'd managed to succeed, and so he abruptly displayed a couple cached messages on the screen, though it took a moment for the ship computers to translate them. The room's occupants again turned to the screen, though Megatron glanced at him for a second, casting him a warm, knowing smile.

Subject > Aether Directive

Priority > Prime

From > Tourian Command, Mother Brain

Recipient Class > Unique (see list)
Received By > Kalkrax III
Encryption Type > Tourian Command > Science Team > 6A
Archival Protocol > Do Not Archive

Considering the sensitive nature of this mission, commands will continue to be provided as needed. Our intrusion into the Dasha system will likely not be received well by the Galactic Federation or the Luminoth, so it is preferable that this mission be completed swiftly. However, considering our previous failure at Aether, take whatever defensive precautions are necessary.

Do not attack the Luminoth or their 'Transformers' unless provoked.

Penetrate the Leviathan. Sath'xel will provide technical information on what to do once inside.

>>> END

Subject > Portals

Priority > High

From > Sath'xel (ID70774JX) [TEMP ACCESS LEVEL]
Recipient Class > Science Team > Shrikewing Crew

Received By > Kalkrax III, Shrikewing

Encryption Type > None (local)

Archival Protocol > This message will be purged when [Aether Mission: Retrieval] is completed.

As previously stated, I'll be providing the technical info for what we do once we get inside the Leviathan. I've attached schematics. Why we couldn't just steal one of the luminoth's portal generators and stick it in the meteor is beyond me.

>>> END

"Portal generators?" J-Syr muttered. "They want to reach Dark Aether? Why would they need the Leviathan for that?"

One of the other luminoth replied.

"It could serve as a power source... or maybe they're hoping the dimensional barrier is weaker there. Why would they even want to reach Dark Aether?"

"Dark Aether?" Starscream asked. "Is that that dimension you said 'may or may not' exist?"

U-Mos turned to glance at the seeker, but was quickly overcome with horror, his body tensing up as he stared back at the screen.

"Retrieval... It's Dark Samus they're retrieving. They must have found out somehow that I sent her there..."

The room was suddenly filled with a silent dread that lingered over the occupants, seemingly trying to suffocate them. Finally, Megatron broke the silence, his voice and his aura both calm and collected.

"In that case, the importance of driving the Pirates out of Aether has become abundantly clear. Soundwave, are you able to regain control of the satellites?"

[No, we would still need to disable their satellite uplink.]

"Hm."

He seemed to think for a moment, and looked back toward the map still present on the screen.

"Then we have our objective. Once we take out the satellite uplink, they shouldn't be able to communicate between the ground and whatever ships are in orbit, correct?"

U-Mos nodded.

"How many signal jammers do you think there are?"

"It's a function of many of their devices so... a lot."

"Then we form a ground team, approach from the south. Draw out their defenses, try to take out however many scramblers we can, while two small strike teams move in, one to destroy the satellite link, the other to take out the turrets. The moment they're down, we drop Quadraxis on them. Once the scramblers are taken out, we bridge into the mines and hold that position."

Starscream spoke in turn, sounding bored, despite the apprehension in his aura and his engagement in the conversation.

"Three strike teams. One for each turret, and the uplink."

Megatron stared him down, prompting him to elaborate.

"The way I figure it, it would be better to attack both turrets at once, before they have time to regroup. With the way they're placed, there's no way anyone could get from one to the other without being exposed to... whatever the Pirates have planned."

The gladiator's expression softened somewhat, and he gave an approving nod before turning to U-Mos.

"You're sure Quadraxis can work?"

"We'll need air support, but yes."

With that, Megatron glanced back toward Starscream.

"You can handle air support."

The seeker's response to this was, of course, a sly grin. Before Megatron could continue, however, U-Mos interjected again.

"Let us handle the uplink. A team of luminoth will likely not be as... conspicuous."

"That is... probably true," Megatron replied.

The gladiator looked around the room again, seemingly scanning everyone in it. Finally, he pointed toward Typhoon.

"You'll lead the strike team to take down the western turret."

Arcee, resting her head in one hand, let out an almost silent sound; something of a quiet, mocking laugh, as though dismissing that choice. What she obviously did not expect, however, was for Megatron to slowly turn to her, his face contorting into a malicious smirk.

"What was that?" he asked.

While Arcee did return his stare, she hardened her aura into one of furious disinterest.

"It's just that I don't ever recall your people being good at this sort of thing."

Typhoon bolted upright, practically jumping out of her seat and pointing toward the warrior as her arm transformed into a gun.

"Just try me, autobot!"

Megatron glanced back at the black seeker, his eyes suddenly burning with fury.

"Quiet, you!"

Begrudgingly, Typhoon lowered her gun and sat back down, and the gladiator turned back toward Arcee. Ratchet and Wheeljack's auras were both somewhat apprehensive, but they, too, stared at Megatron with something of a defensive determination as he spoke again.

"I accept that you are incredibly... skilled, but I also assumed you would be unwilling to help us, despite the importance of this mission. On the other hand, if you are willing to help us, that would be greatly appreciated."

Arcee's eyes narrowed as she stared up at the gladiator, making her suspicion very apparent.

"You're a manipulative monster," she said. "Why did I even say anything..."

Megatron grinned, his aura radiating amusement as he replied.

"Because you don't trust us enough to help us, but you also don't trust us to complete a complex mission without your help."

Arcee briefly glanced over at the luminoth who watched her with both interest and confusion, then looked back up at Megatron.

"You're not giving me much of a choice here, are you?"

"On the contrary, I did provide you with a choice, and I will respect your decision."

"Then why are you giving me that look?"

"Because I know you want to prove yourself."

The warrior turned to Ratchet as her aura grew increasingly aggravated, and she gestured expectantly. The medic, unsure of how to respond, grew stiff, glancing between her and Megatron for a moment before mumbling in response.

"I mean... this is an important mission... and you probably would be good at it..."

Arcee let out a groan as she rolled her eyes, then looked over at Wheeljack.

"Hey, aren't high-risk strike missions a wrecker thing?"

"Not when it's helping 'cons."

He glanced at Ratchet, noticing the sudden dismay in his aura; and Arcee, whose expression conveyed something similar, and let out a begrudged sigh before speaking again.

"... But if it means we can outdo all these vehicons... then I guess I'll play along."

Typhoon glared at Wheeljack from across the room, crossing her arms.

"We'll see about that..."

Megatron held his hands behind him again, his posture returning to one of tranquility. He glanced toward the autobots, and for a moment his expression softened, his eyes somehow conveying genuine respect briefly before he spoke.

"Then I suppose Wheeljack and Arcee will take the western turret, leaving Typhoon and Steelwing to take the eastern turret. The remaining troops will launch the main assault. Any questions?"

U-Mos floated up beside Megatron, speaking to the whole of the room as well.

"We will again fight proudly beside you, given that there is more than just these mines at stake."

He and the gladiator briefly exchanged glances, before Megatron held out a hand.

"Go then, prepare for battle."

A certain electricity seemed to fill the room as its occupants all got up and began to shuffle out one by one, each with purpose, determination, pride. It was with no less determination or purpose that Soundwave and Shockwave soon left, making their way back to the lab side by side, but as usual, they remained silent. When they stepped into the room, they each gravitated toward their corner of the room, hardly realizing that they had left Aftershock there until she crawled out from one of the cabinets and, drowsily, meandered over to grab onto Soundwave's leg. He stared down at her, and briefly a flood of thoughts surged through his mind.

While every decepticon alive had either been born into a horrible world, or one consumed by war, here was perhaps the only cybertronian in existence who had never seen war, or death, or injustice. Soundwave was the progenitor of a new generation entirely, one that had the chance of creating a better world rather than destroying one.

He reached down, lifting the scorpling up into his arms and, for a minute, just staring into her violet eyes.

The Space Pirates were trying to defile the sanctity of their new home, trying to bring chaos and destruction to tear open the scars of war. And for Aftershock's sake, that was something Soundwave could not allow to happen.

He would murder every Pirate in existence with his bare hands if it meant his daughter never had to witness it.

"Will you be doing surveillance?" Shockwave asked from across the room. It took a moment for Soundwave to snap back to reality and glance over at him.

[Yes. Why?]

"A-Scl asked me to assist them with preparing Quadraxis."

The scientist stepped over to him, gazing at Aftershock, much to her delight. For a moment, all three of their auras mingled in warmth and affection, but finally Shockwave's seemed to disappear, as though he could simply turn off his emotions with a simple switch.

"What do we do with her?"

The scorpling grabbed onto one of the points of Soundwave's mask, trying to move his head.

"I want to go to the temple..."

[Not today. Not right now.]

"Why?"

A sudden sickness swept over Soundwave's spark, filling his aura with despair and dread, to the point where Aftershock's antennae folded back in dismay, and Shockwave stared at him, silently asking him what was wrong. He stared at the scientist as he responded solely to him.

[I thought we'd found peace here...]

The switch that controlled Shockwave's emotions must have been tripped, given that his aura was suddenly filled with exactly the same kind of dread that Soundwave felt. Now being smothered by two distressed auras, Aftershock's retreated inward, burning with anxiety.

Rather than saying anything, the scientist drew closer, holding Soundwave to him with his gun arm. He held his hand to the side of the scorpling's head, petting her gently as she gnawed nervously on one of her fingers. After a moment, she muttered quietly.

"Sorry..."

[No,] Soundwave said, [we're not upset at you.]

"Really?"

[Yes, we just...]

His aura burned as he tried to figure out what to say. How was he supposed to explain this? He didn't even want to mention the Pirates, let alone the fact that they'd be leaving her to go kill them. Fortunately, Shockwave spoke in his stead.

"We love you."

The scientist's aura suddenly disappeared again, replaced with a quiet tranquility; one that slowly consumed Soundwave, quelling the fear from his mind and replacing it with emotionless determination.

That would work.

Chapter Text

On the other side of Aether, a heavy rain battered the ground as flashes of lightning occasionally lit the night sky. The Leviathan stood as something of a monolith, like an entire mountain laced with energon, dwarfing the small temporary Pirate camp set at its base. Dull gray machinery littered the area near the entrance, whatever color it had washed out by floodlights set up around the perimeter, creating a glowing fog around the command post. Arcee and Wheeljack stood side by side in what was left of a small building along the rim of the crater. It clearly had succumbed to the Pirate bombardment, and probably an ensuing fire. Only one small corner of the roof remained, as did its brick walls, which shielded them from most of the rain, but as gusts of wind blew at them from outside, it carried with it rain they had no way to avoid.

They stared out at the base in silence, watching as Pirates strolled about, clad in dense armor, weapons drawn, unaware that among the rubble around the crater lingered hundreds of decepticons, waiting for the signal to strike. Arcee and Wheeljack in particular were a good distance from the main group, considering they'd be approaching from a different angle than the others. As such, they lingered in the cold rain, silent, at least until Arcee glanced up at Wheeljack.

"How much do you want to bet that Megatron sent us up here just to keep us out of the way? Like his vehicons will take out the towers and we'll just be up here getting rained on?"

The wrecker glanced down at her as he replied.

"What, so he wouldn't jump on the chance to kill us? Why'd you agree to this anyway?"

"Ah... I don't know. I just..."

She crossed her arms, staring off into the crater.

"Ratchet actually trusts him," she continued. "But it was the luminoth ... I don't know why, but they..."

She trailed off, her and Wheeljack both turning their attention toward the wave of vehicons that started to pour down into the crater. Lightning flashed, momentarily lifting the shroud of darkness that hung in the air, revealing the hundreds of vehicons and insecticons that began to jump from the rocky ledge, each landing in craters of their own. They charged forward, hardly seeming to hesitate, even as the Pirates started to notice them, scrambling their own forces and starting to fire upon the decepticons.

Arcee withdrew her aura as she watched, coming to a realization. She had killed many, many vehicons in the past, and had barely spared a thought for their lives. She had considered them enemies, and had done what was necessary to eliminate them. But part of her always wondered why they had joined the decepticons, considering how Megatron seemed to consider them disposable. But that wasn't the truth, was it?

As she watched them charge ahead, through the rain and gunfire, she realized that the force that motivated them was all too familiar to her. After all, had she not risked her life for the autobots countless times before? Had she not been there with them, charging into the front lines, facing an uncertain future, all for the cause? The vehicons were no less devoted to their faction as she was to her own, and yet she still had slain them without remorse.

Who, then, had truly considered them disposable?

Wheeljack glanced toward her, noticing the horrible guilt that suddenly filled her aura. He was about to speak, when their comm links came to life with a message from Soundwave.

[Go now. Your path is clear.]

With that, the two met each other's gaze, Wheeljack's aura filled with hesitation. Arcee let out a sigh as she glanced back toward the growing battle.

"Ugh, call me crazy but... I think this is the right thing to do."

"You're crazy. More than me. And that's saying something."

The warrior rolled her eyes, then glanced back up at Wheeljack with a hint of a smile.

"Then let's at least go blow up a giant gun."

" Now you're speaking my language."

With that, the two jumped from the ledge, landing in the crater and transforming, driving around toward the Leviathan, hoping to approach the Pirate base from behind. Lightning struck the meteor, the near-deafening snap echoing through the crater several times, gradually fading to a menacing roar. The veins of energon visible in the meteor seemed to absorb the lightning, in a sense, glowing white near the top of the mountain, then transferring this energy elsewhere, resulting in a wave pulsing through the meteor; one presumably of raw power.

The two drove across the soil which, having already been saturated by rain, now became a layer of muddy slop eager to stick to anything that touched it. Nonetheless, as they finally reached the perimeter of the base, they transformed, drawing their weapons and gazing over the metal wall, trying to see what they could see of the battle on the other side of the base. The view was obscured by the mist and glare, but the anti-aircraft turret stood out among the mess of machinery and barriers, towering above everything else except the other turret. After a moment, however, something else rose into view; namely a gunship, which promptly began firing upon the encroaching vehicons. Arcee glanced toward Wheeljack, who replied with a silent nod, and they climbed over the wall, running toward the turret. Immediately, several pirates who'd been working near the entrance to the mines began firing at them, and Arcee momentarily turned to shoot at them, though she quickly turned her focus back to the turret. Wheeljack, however, stopped for a moment, grabbing what was presumably a generator of some sort from the ground beside him and throwing it toward several of the pirates. As the wires connected to it snapped off, the floodlight nearest to them shut off, plunging the area in relative darkness as he turned to catch up with Arcee. Gunshots soon struck the ground around them, having come from another gunship that now loomed above them. For a moment, they both stopped, pointing their weapons toward it. Arcee turned, starting to sprint toward the turret, only to find it rotating on its base, its massive barrels pointing down at them.

"Oh, you're fragging-"

The ground erupted in gunfire around Arcee as she started to run, her vision clouded by the rain and mud and fire thrown up into the air. Suddenly, even the snap of lightning striking the meteor was washed away in the sound of the turret as it fired. Explosions rocked the ground around her at a ceaseless, rapidfire pace, until one finally struck her.

Well, it might have been several. She couldn't really tell. She flew through the air for a moment, hitting something metal as she tumbled ungracefully to the ground. She merely laid there for a moment, dazed and shaking, until she heard the turret begin firing again. With that, she jolted upright, hardly noticing that she was now covered in mud. Where had Wheeljack gone?

Her question was soon answered by his vehicle mode in the distance, frantically trying to escape the torrent of gunfire that chased him. No sooner did Arcee manage to get to her feet, however, than the second turret began to rotate just as the first did, pointing away from her and firing downward, presumably toward the decepticons who'd been approaching it.

A pirate beside her started to fire toward her, but she merely had to fire a few shots from her own blasters for him to slump to the ground, motionless. Much like the humans, it seemed, the Space Pirates were much more dangerous when aided by their machines. After a moment, the warrior started to run back toward the turret, only for it to stop firing at Wheeljack, and begin to turn toward her. She dove forward and transformed, hoping to take cover, at least for a moment. Gunfire soon erupted around her again, but she continued driving, weaving between massive generators and floodlights and odd pieces of gray machinery, trying to meander back toward the turret. However, just as had happened the first time, either one or several shots struck her, sending her flying.

This time as she hit the ground, she let out a cry of pain, clutching one of her arms as she laid on the ground. Her body ached as she turned to look up at the sky, watching as lightning again struck the Leviathan, sending waves of white energy through the energon contained within it, looking like light refracting through water.

How were they supposed to get to the turret?

"Arcee!"

The warrior turned her head upon hearing the voice, glancing over to find Typhoon hiding behind several massive crates, her red lights really the only part of her visible in the shadows. Begrudgingly, Arcee pulled herself up, though she tried to stay as low to the ground as she could in order to maybe stay hidden. Similarly, Typhoon inched toward her, until they met behind a cluster of pipes, the air filled with the sound of turret gunfire. Typhoon glanced around for a moment, then looked toward Arcee. Even though they were just feet from each other, she still had to shout in order to be even remotely audible.

"Where's the other one? What's his name?"

"Wheeljack and I got split up. I can't call him."

Typhoon lifted herself up for a moment, staring over the pipe machinery, gesturing to someone in the distance before lowering back down to cover.

"Steelwing's on his way. We need to find Wheeljack... We have to do this together..."

Just then, one of the turrets stopped, and both mechs glanced out from their cover, finding it to be the one firing at Steelwing. No sooner did the first one stop, however, than the second did as well.

The sounds of pounding rain and thunder sounded like the void of silence in comparison. Arcee finally managed to catch her breath, just enough to glance out from cover again.

"Wheeljack!" she yelled.

From their other side, Steelwing soon crawled over to them, trying as well to stay hidden.

"Oh, those turrets will be easy to take out, he said... two people can manage it just fine ..."

Arcee let out something of a forced laugh, more from aggravation than amusement.

"Glad to see I'm not the only one that was feeling overwhelmed."

"Where's Wheeljack?"

"I don't know."

"Well..." Typhoon muttered, "hopefully three people is enough."

"Enough to take out two of those things?"

Typhoon seemed lost in thought for a moment.

"If we... can get out past the perimeter... and then approach from the right angle, only one of them will be able to attack us."

"And then what?" Steelwing asked. "We've only been getting attacked by one turret at a time so far. What's three people versus two?"

The air went quiet for a moment -- except, of course, for the sounds of battle in the distance. Something caught Arcee's attention, and she turned, pointing her guns forward, only to find something white retreating back from behind a corner.

"Wheeljack?" she asked. After a moment, the wrecker pulled himself around the corner, and Arcee lowered her guns with a relieved sigh. It was Wheeljack, however, who spoke first as he approached.

"I thought these turrets were supposed to be a two-person thing?"

"Yeah," Steelwing replied. "That's what I thought too."

"Okay..." Typhoon muttered. "So how do we do this?"

One of the turrets began firing, causing the four to reflexively lower themselves even further to the ground, almost pressing themselves into the mud. Given that the ensuing gunfire wasn't anywhere nearby, however, Steelwing looked out over the machinery, just as the second turret started firing as well.

"They're firing up front."

Typhoon slammed her hand down on the ground beside her.

"Scrap!"

"We have to stay in cover for as long as we can," Arcee said. "Move up... take out anyone we can see... then hope we can reach the turrets before they notice."

Wheeljack replied, clearly hesitant. "Uhh, I don't know if you've noticed, but... stealth isn't really my thing."

"Would you rather serve as bait then?"

"Not bait, a decoy."

"That was a rhetorical question."

"I know, but I'm being serious. Someone has to draw their fire. Might as well be me."

"No," Typhoon replied. "You'll just get yourself killed."

"Well," Steelwing said, "they're not slow to aim, but maybe if we all approach from far enough apart, one of us can get to it and detonate the fuel."

Arcee let out a hesitant sigh. "Well, that's the least stupid idea I've heard so far, for whatever that's worth."

"Fine," Typhoon said. "Which turret?"

Several shots rained down from above, and the group looked up to find that one of the gunships had returned, and now loomed above them. Wheeljack was the first to fire, though the other three soon got to their feet.

"Which turret!?" Typhoon yelled. Steelwing responded as he, too, started firing upon the gunship.

"East! Go!"

With that, Arcee transformed, driving as fast as she could through the base and out through a gap in the perimeter wall, making a wide arc around the turret. Momentarily she watched what she could see of the fight occurring to the south, at least until the eastern turret stopped firing, and started to rotate toward her. Several missiles flew up from the ground, hitting the gunship from below, sending it spinning and falling toward the ground. The turret briefly pointed toward her, but continued rotating, and finally started firing toward someone else within the base. With a sharp turn, she swung toward the turret, every instinct in her telling her to run, to leave, to let the decepticons handle their own problems. But something else still held sway, and so she once again found herself driving straight at the turret as it soon stopped firing, and turned toward her. She sped up as much as she could, given the fact that she had hardly any traction on ground this slippery, and aimed toward another gap in the perimeter wall. The turret began to fire, and she was able to feel the shockwaves of the shots as they struck the ground just behind her, and slowly encroached toward her. Just as she slipped through the perimeter, the shots finally caught up to her, and she briefly lost consciousness.

Arcee was jolted awake by the sound of the turret starting to fire again, although it took her a moment to remember what was going on. As she stared toward the turret this time, however, she was able to make out the canisters of energon beneath it, presumably the ones that needed to be detonated. She sat upright, aiming one of her blasters toward the sliver of blue she could see, and started firing. After only six shots, she noticed the blue in her line of sight turn to white. Not a second later, the top of the turret burst apart, the force of the blast sending chunks of the tower flying through the air. Arcee barely managed to throw herself to the ground and cover her head before getting hit with shrapnel; pieces of metal striking her armor, some merely bouncing off, some accompanied by stinging pain as they cut through her armor. After a moment, she finally got back to her feet, staring toward the second turret as it rotated on its base, aiming toward someone.

Primus... what had she gotten herself into...?

Lightning again struck the tip of the meteor as Arcee transformed and started off toward the second turret, practically ignoring the stray space pirates who occasionally shot at her with their meager blasters. She again weaved between massive structures and metal walls, her focus fixated on the tower, and she merely watched as it continued firing. Just as she was about to drive into the clearing around the turret, however, it stopped, and swung toward her. But of course, there was no way she was going to let herself get hit again. She sped up, driving straight toward the tower, at least until it began firing in front of her, forcing her to swerve around the blasts. But it followed, blocking her path, and so she found herself driving around the tower in a wide arc, unable to get any closer. She did manage to stay just out of range of the shots, however, altering her speed at times to throw off their aim. That was probably the minimum range the turrets had, so if someone else could get just a bit closer...

Wheeljack appeared on the other side of the clearing all of a sudden, driving straight toward the tower just as Arcee did. And, in mere seconds, the turret, without even ceasing fire, swiveled around to instead shoot toward the wrecker. Arcee took her chance, swinging inward toward the turret, watching as Wheeljack was soon repelled by the gunfire just as she had been. Arcee transformed, sliding across the ground as she drew her blasters, just able to see enough of the turret's power source to be able to fire toward it. And, just as had happened the first time, she only had to fire several times for the energon to detonate, taking the second turret with it. She again pressed herself to the ground, trying to shield herself as much as she could from the ensuing rain of shrapnel that followed. After several moments of relative quiet, she finally sat up, able to hear as Wheeljack drove toward her and transformed.

"You okay?"

The wrecker extended a hand, and Arcee took it, letting him pull her to her feet.

"Yeah," she said, her growing fatigue starting to become noticeable. "Though I'll probably be picking bits of shrapnel out of my armor for the next week."

"Yup. Been there."

A green dot appeared in the air above the rim of the crater, recognizable as a groundbridge by the hue of its familiar glow, and the fact that a myriad of aircraft soon flew through it. Arcee and Wheeljack merely watched, soon joined by Typhoon and Steelwing, as Starscream and his vehicons started bombarding the more heavily reinforced side of the base from above. Trailing them some distance was a collection of green aircraft, flying in formation, carrying what must have been Quadraxis strung between them. The pirates clearly began turning their attention to this, considering that they began shooting up at the metal form. Nonetheless, the luminoth ships continued, their own floodlights obscuring Quadraxis in glare, and flew over the base. Finally, the cords suspending the form were disconnected, dropping the metal box to the ground. Thunder echoed through the crater again as Quadraxis began to move, panels folding out from its compressed state, legs starting to unfurl, its body rising from the ground. It emitted a metallic whir as its head swiveled around, facing the source of the gunshots that struck it from below. A red laser seemed to track one of the space pirates, and finally the mechanoid opened fire, sending a barrage of missiles downward.

After a moment, the static that filled the air started to calm, and voiced started to become audible over the comm link.

"-already inside. We have-... groundbridge-..."

"What!?"

[Groundbridge is active.]

The next voice was now positively identifiable as Megatron's.

"Let Quadraxis handle this. Anyone who can hear me, get to the groundbridge!"

With that, the four who'd been watching the colossal construct exchanged glances, then each transformed and took off toward the front of the base.

As Arcee drove, this time without anyone shooting at her, she realized that most of the structures that surrounded her were entirely constructed by the space pirates in little more than a few hours. How was that even possible? They'd set up generators, energon pipes, perimeter and internal fences, and two turrets that were not to be trifled with... all in the span of time it took for the decepticons to notice their presence on the planet, gather everyone to form a plan, and almost immediately execute said plan. When she'd first heard that the decepticons had struggled to fight these beings before, she'd assumed it was due to decepticon incompetence, but now...

The groundbridge portal just outside the base finally became visible, and so Arcee swung around the lingering firefight centered around Quadraxis to reach it, transforming once she did so.

The portal led to a massive, roundish chamber, presumably inside the meteor, given the fact that the rock walls were entirely impregnated with energon. The whole of the room, in fact, glowed a dim blue. Arcee stepped forward, joining the crowd of vehicons as they stood, watching what was taking place before them.

In the center of the chamber was a gargantuan ball of... something. She could only assume it was a portal, as the pirates had supposedly been trying to build, but this looked nothing like any portal she'd ever seen. It looked as though an energy shield surrounded something that poured a deep purple, almost black smoke from its core. Like conflicting forces fought in the center, this smoke billowed from parts of the sphere, only to be drawn back into the center, then erupting out again, like a tumultuous sea. Purple electricity sparked through the sphere at times, briefly illuminating the cloud of darkness. Several pirates stood in front of the sphere, staring up at Megatron, and the luminoth that stood or hovered by his side.

"It can't be shut off now," one of the pirates said. Just then, a loud crack echoed through the chamber, and the energon that filled the walls flickered white as a wave of energy pulsed through it, then reflected back, then echoed again, causing the room as a whole to flicker and pulse and gradually dim, just as calm water did when disturbed. The black cloud in the center of the room was briefly lit by sparks of blue energy as they jumped from the walls of the chamber to the center of the sphere, and in turn, the entire abomination seemed to grow just slightly larger. The pirate that had spoken before did once more.

"That's why. The portal's powered by the Leviathan, and every time it gets struck by lightning, that dimensional barrier weakens even more. There's nothing you can do now."

"So you believe," U-Mos said. "You forget that the luminoth are masters of both dimensions."

"So that's why you had to have Samus come and save you?"

Megatron drew his blade, pointing it down at the pirates.

"Look around you. You're vastly outnumbered, and you have nowhere to run. I highly suggest you abandon your mission while you still can."

"You're wrong..." one of the other pirates said. "You can't stop the Dark Hunter. When she comes, your mechanoids won't mean anything. Even Quadraxis, even your Transformers, won't be able to save you."

J-Syr, clad in metallic armor, wielding a large hammer in both hands, drifted forward slightly as she hovered.

"You think we built them?"

The pirates exchanged glances for a moment, seemingly confused, before another loud bang echoed through the room, lightning pulsing through the walls, feeding the portal even more. This time, however, the purple lightning within the cloud seemed to intensify, sparking more rapidly, just as the churning cloud grew even more violent in its endless swirling.

"See," U-Mos said, "it's already starting to grow unstable."

The pirates glanced back at the massive sphere behind them, then back toward the Sentinel.

"It doesn't matter! When our mistress comes-"

"I will send her back there as many times as I need to."

Megatron's aura flared with determination as he spoke.

"And we will defend this planet as many times as we need to. You may throw away your lives coming here, believing you can conquer Aether, but never again will we allow you to defile the peace we've found here. In trying to take this world once before, your kind only managed to forge our alliance with the luminoth, and in this attempt you've only served to strengthen it. I am inclined to let you few live, for only this reason:"

The gladiator knelt down, staring down at the space pirates, his voice quieting.

"Tell Mother Brain of your failures. Tell her Aether is beyond her reach. Tell her that your precious Dark Hunter will spend her immortal life as a prisoner, locked in a dimension to which only we have the keys. And tell her... that if a single space pirate dares to even set foot upon this world again... that we will find her... and destroy her."

The air was quiet for a moment as Megatron got back on his feet, at least until another lightning strike caused the portal in the center of the room began to churn even faster.

"We have to get out of here," U-Mos said. "Soundwave?"

In merely a few seconds, a groundbridge appeared just outside the chamber, presumably far enough away that it didn't interfere with whatever was going on in the center of the room. The luminoth all turned to leave, followed in turn by the vehicons, but Megatron remained for a moment, continuing to stare down at the space pirates before his gaze returned to the portal. Yet another lightning strike hit the meteor, and the portal began to emit a shrill, staticky sound as purple energy sparked from it, reaching out toward the walls of the chamber, causing an ominous shaking to permeate the meteor. Finally, Megatron turned to walk toward the groundbridge.

"It seems even your presumed savior has failed you."

Rocks began to fall from the ceiling as the last of the room's occupants all began to shuffle out of the room, heading toward the groundbridge in the entryway. Arcee turned to walk out as well, but stopped for a moment, just staring back at the space pirates who remained where they stood, gazing up at the portal. Weren't they going to retreat as well?

Just then, as another lightning bolt permeated into the Leviathan, the portal collapsed, then burst outward again, growing into a black orb in the center of the room. The pirates hardly had time to react before they were pulled into the singularity, as was the very air around them. Arcee turned and ran without a second thought, as did everyone else who remained in the room. The rocks around them trembled as gravity started to shift, making it feel as though the short distance to the groundbridge was growing into a steeper and steeper uphill climb, until all Arcee could do was to claw helplessly at the ground, desperately trying to grab onto something as the singularity dragged her across what was once the floor. The walls of the chamber began to fold inward, massive boulders were ripped from the ground, tumbling down into the abyss below. Arcee glanced up, watching as even Starscream, in his jet form, struggled to fight his way upward out of the gravity well, especially given the torrent of rocks and boulders that sped past him. Finally, just as the seeker found himself sinking back toward the black hole, the very rocks that Arcee had been desperately holding onto broke away, sending her falling helplessly toward the dark maw below her, just as it seemed the entire meteor was doing the same thing.

Chapter Text

The muffled sound of falling rocks finally drove Arcee to consciousness. She laid rather awkwardly, face down on some uncomfortable floor, one of her legs somewhat sore, the other completely numb. A lingering haze still clouded her mind, trying to ease her back to the tranquility of sleep, but something else struggled underneath it, urging her to get up... get up!

Begrudgingly, she at least tried to shift her posture, only to quickly realize that something held onto her, leaving her immobilized. In an instant, the fatigue in her mind vanished, replaced by a jolt of fear as she opened her eyes to find that she was trapped under solid rock. She tried to move, finding one of her arms mobile enough to at least rotate, sending some of the rocks on it falling away. She shoved at something, probably pushing a larger rock to one side, and a cascade of gravel tumbled off of her, setting free her right arm and allowing her to lift her head slightly. Of course, all she could see around her was just more rock, lit only by the glow of her own eyes.

What had even... happened? How was she still alive at all? She remembered falling toward that black hole, but had she actually gone through it? Where was everyone?

The fear of uncertainty began to well up within her as she gazed around at her confinement, but she had to smother it.

This was just a mission gone wrong. She'd been buried in a cave-in before, and managed to free herself before... no reason why she couldn't do the same thing again.

She reached over with her free arm, sweeping piles of rocks and gravel off of her other, the sound echoing in the tiny space amongst the otherwise quiet air. Gradually the weight on her left arm lifted, allowing her to move it just slightly... just enough...

As she finally pulled her left arm free, a sizeable rock that had rested its weight on it dropped, revealing to its side a small gap through which something silver was visible. Arcee started to push aside the gravel that had piled up around her as much as she could, reaching toward the gap and pulling rocks back, to find Starscream lying motionless on the other side.

He had been buried lying on his back, one hand resting up by his head, his face turned away. Why wasn't this discovery comforting in any way?

The answer to that question was obvious. Arcee had wanted him dead for a long time, not just for the myriad of atrocities he'd committed during the war, but specifically for the murder of Cliffjumper.

In that sense, Arcee had more reason to kill Starscream than she did Megatron.

Still, she'd somehow managed to suppress that vengeful urge up until now, and if Starscream was her only possible help in this scenario, then it was in her best interest that he remain alive... for now.

"Starscream?"

He didn't move, and so Arcee turned her attention back to her own predicament for a moment, trying in vain to pull herself out from under the rocks that pinned the rest of her body down. On second thought, the fact that she couldn't feel one of her legs was actually a terrible sign...

She tried to twist, to pull, to move something , but nothing seemed to happen. She reached back as much as she could, trying to maybe push away whatever was on top of her, only to find that a rather large, single boulder rested on her lower back.

She glanced over at the seeker again, briefly wondering if he would be able to help her at all, or if he was even still alive. She called him again, but again he didn't move.

It took a more determined effort this time to quiet the anxiety that started to grow in her mind.

Well... if she couldn't move the rocks, maybe she could at least break them. She transformed one of her arms into a blaster, and while it was incredibly awkward, she reached back behind her head as much as she could and started firing at whatever was there. The gunshots were shrill and painfully loud compared to the relative quiet of the small cave, but that was unimportant.

After several shots, she heard something crack, then shift. But rather than shifting so that the rocks could fall away from her, the weight pressing down on her back grew even stronger, such that she could hardly take a full breath. Panic started to well up within her, despite all her efforts to shuffle it away, and she clawed at the ground, desperately trying to worm her way out from underneath the rocks. She started gasping, hardly able to inhale any of the dusty air around her, and her gaze once again focused on the form lying beside her.

"Starscream!"

He didn't respond. She reached out, trying to grab his hand, but she wasn't quite able to reach him. Finally, mostly out of panic, she scooped up a handful of gravel and flung it at him. Most of the pebbles scattered off through the cave, but several pieces struck his head and bounced off, and finally his fingers twitched, then went still again.

He was alive. Most of Arcee's panicked mind was suddenly grateful for that fact, while the small remainder was disgusted that she could ever think such a thing.

"Starscream, please..."

She grabbed another handful of rocks and threw them at him, one in particular sounding much heavier than the rest of the pebbles when it hit the seeker's head. Starscream let out a quiet, partially conscious moan, his fingers curling into a fist, and he just barely opened his eyes. He seemed to glance around for a moment, then turned his head to face Arcee.

On the side of his face that she had not been able to see was a large, deep gash, cutting across the side of his head, across his right eye all the way to the side of his mouth. It was less of a cut, and more like a piece of his head has been grinded down, through layers of metal, revealing some of the circuitry components in his head.

That wasn't good.

Starscream stared blankly at the warrior, saying nothing, hardly moving at all, prompting Arcee to speak first.

"Can you move at all?"

As though the question took a great deal of effort to unravel, Starscream slowly glanced around, looking down at himself, then rather easily slipped his arms from their gravelly restraints, and started shoving aside the rocks that laid on top of him. His aura was neutral, his eyes blank, and he still remained silent.

"Starscream..." Arcee muttered. "Are you..."

The seeker again turned his head to face her. His expression was completely blank, as though she had been speaking some sort of foreign language. After a moment, he reached over, pulling away some of the rocks still blocking the small window between them, then turned back to digging himself free.

Despite the nature of the scenario, Arcee finally started to calm down as she watched the seeker pushing piles of gravel and rocks off of him, slowly uncovering his chest. Obviously, Starscream was not fine, but he was able to tell what was going on, and that was all Arcee needed. In fact, it might have been something of a blessing that he couldn't speak, given that his personality was intolerable.

... Well, that might have been a bit harsh. After all, he had saved Arcee's life once before, even though his motivation for doing so was something to do with repayment. But he had still murdered Cliffjumper.

... Of course, the warrior had unapologetically killed countless decepticons throughout the past, so was she really any better? The thought suddenly weighed on her, almost moreso than the boulder actively crushing her. This was not the first time she and Starscream had been caught in a cave-in, and last time, she'd left him alone to hold up a ceiling on his own. He hadn't even done anything, and she'd left him in the very situation in which she now found herself. If Starscream had retained all his... mental faculties this time around, would he do the same thing to her?

Despite how much she wanted to believe otherwise, she knew that no, he wouldn't do that. He would find a way to use the situation to his advantage, like demanding something in return for helping her dig herself free, but he wouldn't just leave her to die like she had done. He was cold and callous, but he wouldn't commit any such atrocity without first setting a price for mercy. And, to their credit, he and Megatron always seemed to uphold these agreements.

... But he had still murdered Cliffjumper.

The very thought caused her spark to ache. She had been tempted to go with Ratchet when he was exiled from Iacon, but her main reason for refraining was Starscream, because of what he'd done to Cliffjumper.

Arcee slammed her hand down on the ground in front of her, burying her face in her arms.

"Damn it Starscream, why'd I have to get stuck with you!?"

She glanced up, finding the seeker staring at her with a bewildered expression, having frozen in place. She swiped at the ground, scooping up a handful of gravel, which she flung at him.

"Don't give me that look!"

Starscream reflexively held up a hand to block the gravel, then stared back at her. After a moment, Arcee, with a sweep of her arm, sent dust and dirt and rocks flying throughout the cave, before finally returning the stare.

"You don't even understand anything I'm saying, do you? Why did I fragging do this at all, huh? Some moth people give me that innocent look, and I agree to put up with all this scrap for you, and this is where I end up!? Wheeljack was right, wasn't he, you're all just trying to-"

Arcee started to try to move again, managing to reach back and just barely push on one of the rocks holding her down. As one of these shards fell away, she briefly felt the weight on her back lift; just enough to pull herself forward slightly before a much larger boulder came tumbling down, and the weight returned.

She would have screamed, had the weight not been enough to suffocate her. She swore she could feel her armor warping from the pressure as her body was suddenly being crushed. Every other thought from her mind disappeared in an instant, and she clawed at the ground again, digging cuts into the ground as she desperately tried to pull herself free, before finally glancing over at the seeker with wide, panicked eyes, reaching toward him.

Starscream just continued to stare at her for a moment in his silent confusion, before something seemed to click. His aura was suddenly flooded with a sense of urgency, and he looked back down at the rocks that still laid on top of him, slashing with his claws several times, sending stones cascading back down onto him. But each time, he managed to free himself just a bit more, his mangled wings becoming visible as he pulled them out of a layer of gravel. Finally, he twisted himself around, reaching one of his arms through the gap that separated them, and primed its missile. Arcee just barely managed to turn her face away before he fired.

So this was how she was going to die.

The burst felt like a full-body impact, as though she'd been thrown at something. The sound was horrible enough that close to her, but even more terrifying was the sound of cascading rocks that followed, of stones scraping and moving and settling, unrelenting and unforgiving. She hardly even noticed that, for a brief moment, she had been able to move. She could hear as slabs of stone were fractured from the blast, but she didn't dare open her eyes. All she could do was remain where she laid, curled up on her side, her head buried in her arms, the horrible groan of moving rock echoing around her, the air thick with dust.

... It took a moment for her to even realize that she was still alive. Her whole body trembled, and she flinched at the sound of every spare rock that fell around her as the cascade finally slowed. She opened her eyes finally, finding herself completely entombed in rock. She started gasping for air, despite the pain that now wracked her body with every breath as she tried to move, not even sure which direction to be digging, if she even could. The weight pressing down on her was less than it was before, but this was almost more terrifying. She couldn't so much as move her hands, even as she heard rocks shuffling somewhere nearby. After a moment, however, she felt the seeker's aura above her, and yelled out.

"Starscream, please-!"

He clearly started digging after a minute, but even though Arcee knew this, she still couldn't help but cringe every time she heard the sound of moving rocks. She tried to slow her breathing, to calm herself down, to put up that wall of fearlessness she had in battle, but this wasn't like any battle she'd ever been in. It didn't make sense, because this wasn't the first time she'd been caught in a mine collapse either. But somehow, this felt completely different. She'd been in plenty of bad situations before; of missions gone wrong, where she found herself vastly outnumbered, or injured, or even captured. Hell, she'd been tortured before, and while she had certainly had times where she thought she might not live... nothing compared to this. It wasn't the pain that did it, so much as it was the sheer helplessness she found herself in. The thought that she would remain fully conscious as she died, while wholly unable to do a thing about it...

She could hear the scraping getting closer, and she could feel the weight gradually lifting, but it wasn't until she felt metal brush against her arm that she finally opened her eyes again, finding a dim light streaming through from between the rocks. She finally managed to lift her head, to push herself up, at least slightly. Starscream rested beside the hole he'd dug, and he reached down toward her, offering his hand.

Arcee stared up at him, frozen, as a thousand different thoughts converged on her all at once. Here was someone she genuinely hated, someone she had desperately wanted to kill, who had ruined her life in more ways than she could even remember... who had just saved her life. Here was someone who had tortured her in the past, who had tormented her, yet had just gone out of his way to help her.

Suddenly she understood how Ratchet could now trust the decepticons.

She reached up, grabbing onto Starscream's arm just as he did hers, and he started to pull back, lifting Arcee from her rocky tomb. Her whole body was flooded with pain suddenly, but slowly she climbed up, almost dragging herself out of the hole in the floor, until finally she found herself free, and collapsed on the ground beside the seeker, the panic in her mind finally starting to subside.

It was then that she noticed that Starscream's legs were both horribly mangled and bleeding, one moreso than the other. She looked down at her own legs, finding both to be at least mostly intact, though the one she couldn't feel was also bleeding slightly. At least she could move.

She looked around, finding herself in a much larger space than before, with several small crevices seeming to lead to other areas.

"Alright," she muttered. "Now where do we go..."

She still couldn't reach anyone over the comms, though that didn't stop her from trying. Starscream, after a minute, started glancing around the room, finally holding up a hand to point toward one of the walls. Arcee finally sat up, glancing over toward where he was pointing, then looked back at him.

"Uhh... you're sure?"

The seeker lowered his hand, looking away from her, his aura having returned to that unsettling neutrality, the one eye of his that was working being similarly dull and empty. Arcee let out a sigh, looking down for a moment at herself, now warped and dented, and covered in scratches, dirt, and dried energon.

"I suppose any direction is better than nothing."

With that, she hesitantly shifted her weight, and tried to get to her feet. Her legs were certainly damaged, but they somehow still functioned, and so she managed to stand, though she had to crouch slightly due to the height of the small cave. She made her way over to the wall, and took as deep a breath as she could manage before pulling the rocks away from the wall, one by one.

Outside, the rain only continued to pour, though it had calmed slightly, the lightning moving out into the distance, the thunder growing quiet and calm. Crowds of decepticons took refuge in the Leviathan, however, as they dug through the collapsed main chamber as quickly as they could. One by one, vehicons were slowly dug out, and transported back to the Alterium for medical treatment.

Wheeljack, having been merely meandering in thought for some time, finally stepped over toward Ratchet, who knelt down on the ground beside some of the more lightly injured vehicons, doing what he could to aid them. Nearby, however, was Megatron, to whom the wrecker turned his attention. He tried to withdraw his aura as much as he could, but he made no effort to remove his lingering disgust from it as he spoke.

"All of this seems awfully suspicious, doesn't it?"

Megatron turned to look down at him, his aura remaining steadfast, but growing ever so slightly concerned.

"What do you mean by that?"

Ratchet glanced up at them for a moment, but quickly turned back to his work as he continued welding shut a long cut on a vehicon's arm. The vehicon, on the other hand, remained fixated on them as Wheeljack spoke.

"I mean, we show up here, crash land, get stuck... Couple days later, suddenly we're under attack, first time in three years. Then suddenly it's up to me and Arcee to help you out, and what do you know, she gets caught in a cave in."

Megatron's eyes narrowed slightly, though he refused to let his aura shift.

"While I must agree that the timing of this attack was somewhat uncanny... I hope you don't mean to imply that I would risk the lives of all my troops merely to possibly kill one autobot."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

"Do realize that Starscream is still unaccounted for as well."

"That... doesn't help your case at all."

Megatron held a hand to his face as he let out a sigh.

"If I truly wanted to kill you or Arcee, this would be the most inefficient, convoluted method of doing so."

"Oh, I don't think you organized all of this, but you brought us into this mess."

The gladiator's aura finally started to turn aggravated as he responded.

"You volunteered for this. I asked for your cooperation, and you accepted."

"No, you made it sound like there was a choice involved, but you put her on the spot. You manipulated her."

Megatron, clearly growing increasingly annoyed, leaned forward toward the wrecker as he gestured toward the cave's exit.

"And she still went out there, of her own volition! I gave you no stipulations, did nothing to force you to cooperate. Just as with Ratchet-"

The medic finally looked back toward the conversation, his voice sounding exasperated.

"Would you shut up already?"

Megatron froze, staring toward him with an almost bewildered stare, just as Wheeljack soon did. The air was silent for a moment until Ratchet continued, even as he turned back to his work once again.

"This whole attack was... probably just a giant coincidence. And I agree that the way you asked Arcee to help was a bit... deceptive, but there's no ulterior motive behind it. There's no master plan, no giant conspiracy..."

As Ratchet continued, his voice grew increasingly hostile, until he found himself yelling at both the wrecker and the gladiator.

"You'd think that being attacked by space pirates would be the one thing that would manage to force everyone together onto the same side, but no, apparently we're still not past this lingering suspicion that the war is still going on."

He pointed toward Wheeljack suddenly.

"You, get a grip. The war is over now. Deal with it."

He instead pointed toward Megatron.

"And you, stop using me as an example of your 'benevolence' or what have you, it's degrading. I'm tired of being pulled into the middle of this stuff."

Ratchet turned away once more, grabbing a scanner and seeming to enter something into it. The vehicon he'd been working on stared between him and the other two for a moment, until Megatron shifted his posture, forcing his aura back to its regular neutral state. As he spoke, his voice was much quieter than before.

"I apologize for that, but... do not address me like that again."

Ratchet didn't even look at him as he replied.

"Hah! Or what?"

"Or I stop providing you with my high grade, since you seem to enjoy that quite a bit."

"Ugh, please, not this again..."

A sound soon caught his attention, and Ratchet looked up to find a figure moving in the shadows of an unlit passageway. As it approached, the lights soon revealed Arcee, limping out of the darkness, hardly even recognizable anymore given her deformed armor and dust-covered form. She held one of Starscream's arms draped over her shoulder, dragging the rest of his limp body behind her, leaving a trail of blood. Ratchet immediately got up, bolting toward her.

"Arcee!"

Almost as soon as he held a hand to her arm, she let go of Starscream, letting him slump to the ground as she collapsed onto Ratchet. Wheeljack ran over as well a moment later, and Megatron turned toward Steelwing, gesturing to him from across the room.

"How many more?"

"Just two."

"No casualties so far?"

"You'd have to ask Shockwave."

"Notify me when they're found."

"Yes sir."

The gladiator finally stepped over toward Ratchet again, kneeling down and picking Starscream up off the floor.

"This suddenly seems awfully familiar."

Ratchet looked up at him as he stood up, holding Arcee in his arms.

"At least this time we have more equipment..."

A groundbridge portal appeared on the other side of the room, and Ratchet started muttering as he walked over toward it.

"Ugh, I'm not used to positioning software rounding down... "

Megatron stared down at him with confusion for a moment.

"Soundwave gave you groundbridge control?"

"Don't ask me... I don't know why."

With that, they both walked through the portal, leaving Wheeljack on the other side where he stood for a moment, staring in confusion at their oddly cordial interactions, before finally shuffling off through the portal after them.

Chapter Text

While there had certainly been some lasting damage as a result of the attack, it didn't seem to show. Troops had started clearing the mines and rebuilding the shattered remnants of the town around it almost as soon as the pirates had left. And, considering the fact that the attack had been entirely localized to that one area, with the exception of Wheeljack's lone ship, most of Aether had remained completely untouched. Temple Grounds bustled with activity as usual, although the decepticon ships were a bit crowded from the sudden influx of displaced vehicons, given that a town had been all but leveled. Nonetheless, when the sun rose to the grounds the next day, life continued as it had for years prior, with morning dew glistening in the early light.

It was then, in the early hours of the morning, that Arcee finally woke up. The first thing she heard, the first thing that started to prod at her mind was, oddly enough, the sound of birds. The incessant chatter was muffled by the metal walls, presumably, which meant that it was only that much louder outside.

The warrior finally opened her eyes, finding herself in a relatively barren lab, probably having gone unused for quite some time before now. She moved to sit upright, finding what must have been a brace affixed to her torso; gray metal panels gently constricted her, making the simple act of adjusting her posture that much more difficult. Still, she managed to sit upright, leaning against the back of the table she found herself on, and glanced down at her legs. Neither looked bad, but one had clearly been worked on, given that much of her blue paint had been sanded away, revealing ugly, heavily scratched silver underneath.

There didn't seem to be anyone around.

Slowly, she turned to swing her legs down off of the table and rest her feet on the floor. She glanced around the room again, knowing that Ratchet, at least, would not have let her even try to walk yet. Still, she heard nothing. Ever so slowly, she started to shift her weight, gradually letting it rest on her legs, finding them only mildly uncomfortable.

All things considered, that wasn't too bad.

Though her body still ached with weakness to some extent, she nonetheless trudged out of the room, making her way through several hallways before finding a window to the outside. She had no idea where exactly she was, but from her vantage point, she could see what was probably miles of terrain in the distance, sloping up toward a glowing city on the horizon. Emerald towers stretched up into the sky, covered in shining lights; like a beacon of advancement against the backdrop of the natural world. It was all too reminiscent of Cybertron in its prime... of Iacon when it stood proudly as the capital of Cybertron.

"Arcee?"

She looked over, finding Knockout walking toward her. She tried to think of something to say, but words escaped her, and so Knockout found himself staring at her for a moment, his aura oddly concerned.

"You're awake? And... you're already walking around, so I assume you're not in debilitating pain."

"... No."

"Hm. Give it a few hours."

Arcee cast a suspicious glance toward the medic for a moment before returning her gaze to the window. Knockout seemed to follow suit, crossing his arms as he spoke.

"Ratchet was really the only one who worked on you at all, so I don't know many of the details, but to my understanding..."

His eyes flickered over to the brace affixed to her.

"You came close to being crushed entirely."

Arcee turned to face him, her aura growing annoyed.

"Yeah, I know, I was there. Where's Ratchet?"

"Meeting. I'm only here to monitor the high-risk cases until he comes back."

The air went silent for a while as they both stared outside, watching the stray flecks of snow drifting in the gentle breeze. Finally, the warrior lowered her head as she withdrew her aura, trying to hide the conflicting feelings present within.

"How, uhh..."

She let out a sigh, muttering under her breath.

"Primus, I can't believe I'm asking this but... how is... Starscream?"

Knockout turned to look at her, his face alone conveying his sudden bewilderment, immediately causing Arcee's aura to flare with disgust. She averted her gaze, curling her hands into fists at her sides, and spoke again before the medic could.

"Ugh, look, we got buried right next to each other, and he helped me dig myself free. That's why I dragged him out of that cave, and why I'm... curious if he's still alive."

"Curious, huh?"

Arcee glared at him, forcing the weight of her aura onto him, prompting Knockout's to recede slightly in something of a submissive gesture as he spoke again.

"Fine, okay, whatever, I don't judge... much."

The warrior let out a quiet, annoyed groan, and Knockout rolled his eyes slightly as he continued.

"Sheesh, I was just joking. Yes, Starscream's still alive. The injuries on his legs can be fixed with enough time, but it's the damage to his head that I'm more concerned with. Although, given that it's Starscream, that might actually be a blessing."

He seemed to realize something after a moment, and looked toward Arcee again.

"You said he helped you escape... did he get that gash on his head before or after?"

"Before."

"And he was still conscious?"

"I guess. He seemed... out of it, though. I'm not even sure if he understood anything I said to him, 'cause he never said a word to me. But he still..."

Suddenly, her memory seemed to consume her, putting her right back in that cave, just as she found herself being crushed, unable to breathe, her whole body wracked with pain. At that moment, she had become convinced that she was about to die, and she had reached out to Starscream, of all people, in a desperate cry for help.

She was supposed to be a fearless warrior, unrelenting even in the face of death, as she had been for ages. Why... why had this broken her iron will?

Primus, she hoped Starscream didn't remember any of that...

She found herself tensing up, and had to make a conscious effort to relax her body, trying to affix her gaze to the city in the distance once more to focus herself on the present. Knockout must have noticed this, given that he remained silent, but he didn't acknowledge any of it, for which Arcee was quietly thankful. After a moment, he instead gestured toward the glowing city on the horizon.

"I take it you haven't been to Sanctuary Fortress yet?"

Arcee merely shook her head in response.

"It's a big luminoth fortress, and it's where they do most of their science. I like it there, it makes you feel like you're back in Vos, except without all the bureaucracy and whatnot. It's also nice and dry, so... good for my finish."

Arcee couldn't help but laugh slightly as she rolled her eyes.

"You really are obsessed with your finish, aren't you?"

Knockout shrugged somewhat, his aura becoming amused.

"It seems to be something of a running joke now, doesn't it? But, the way I see it, when you have this nice a vehicle mode, it's an utter waste to let it look like anything less than perfection. Yours isn't too bad either, which is why it's such a shame that you let it look like... this..."

He gestured to Arcee, prompting her to look back at him with a suspicious, judgemental stare as she spoke.

"Are you saying I'm ugly?"

"I'm saying you're not what you could be."

The warrior's aura gained traces of amusement as she turned to Knockout, crossing her arms.

" Right, because that's so much different."

Surprisingly, the medic didn't falter at all as he replied.

"You really need a new color scheme, and given that I don't imagine that you'll let that unfinished spot on your leg stay the way it is, you'll have to let me do some thing with you."

Arcee's expression turned genuinely confused for a moment.

"Are you... threatening me... with a paint job...?"

Before Knockout could respond, another voice echoed through the hallway.

"Arcee?"

From the other end of the hallway, Ratchet and Wheeljack strode up to them, Ratchet in particular staring at the warrior with a concerned expression.

"You shouldn't even be conscious yet, let alone walking around."

"And yet," Arcee said as she leaned her weight against the wall beside her, "here I am."

Ratchet did not seem to take this well, only growing more concerned as he replied.

"But you... you narrowly escaped irreparable damage not even a day ago, these things take time, and-"

His gaze turned to Knockout, and he lifted a hand to point rather threateningly toward him.

"And you were supposed to be monitoring her!"

Knockout's aura remained quietly amused as he returned the stare, his face emanating even more of his unwavering sass than did his aura or his aloof posture.

"She seems fine enough to me."

"How would you even know that?"

"I thought I was supposed to be monitoring her."

Ratchet let out a sound as though he had stopped himself from saying anything, and so Arcee finally stepped forward, softening her aura as she spoke.

"Look, I'm not planning to leave Aether right away; I'll stay here as long as you want me to stay here."

Ratchet stood in silence for a moment before letting out a sigh, waving a hand dismissively as he turned to walk past.

"Fine," he muttered.

With the air silent again, Arcee turned her attention to Wheeljack, who merely stood there, having said nothing. He kept his aura withdrawn, but he shifted his gaze between the warrior and Ratchet for a few moments before finally shuffling off to follow the medic, casting a less than approving look toward Knockout as he passed.

As the two left, letting a door close behind them, Knockout turned once more toward Arcee with a curious expression.

"Are all autobots always that dour?"

"Uhh... shouldn't you know?"

"That's why I'm asking. I don't think I've seen anyone who wasn't glum and depressing all the time."

Arcee's aura turned just slightly offended in response, but it quickly faded to a mild displeasure.

"Probably had something to do with the centuries of war."

"Sure," Knockout said, "but I've known some decepticons who weren't always like that... granted, I'm guessing some of them were genuinely insane, but still. I've never seen an autobot like that, even in Iacon, now that the war is over."

"I..."

She had seen an autobot like that, but he was gone now, and the reminder of that fact caused her spark to cringe. She held her arms close to her, and she looked away from the decepticon.

"... Nevermind."

She turned and walked away, much to the confusion of Knockout.

"Uhh..." he hesitantly said, "I didn't mean anything by that..."

In the lab of the Alterium, the door opened and Soundwave and Shockwave stepped through, having returned from the meeting. As usual, they diverted to opposite corners of the room, each returning to their own tasks, neither needing to say a word. Soundwave stepped up to his console, and in merely a few keystrokes, pulled up the work he had saved; namely, reprogramming the luminoth satellites' ship identification processes to better recognize the pirates if they came again. However, he could only stare at the screen. A torrent of thoughts ran through his mind, his aura swirling with emotion. After a few moments, he turned to look toward Shockwave, and sent him a message.

[I know U-Mos said he didn't think the pirates would be back any time soon... but do you believe him?]

The scientist glanced back at him for a second, then returned to his work as he replied.

"In my opinion, it is not a matter of belief. I trust the luminoth to judge the pirates' intentions. But, preparing for a future attack is nonetheless logical."

[So you do think they'll come back.]

"Eventually."

Soundwave hesitated before speaking again.

[Then what of Aftershock?]

Shockwave abruptly froze, then turned to glance at Soundwave.

"Do you doubt our ability to protect her?"

[We can't protect her forever. And... I have the unfortunate feeling that this place will never truly be at peace.]

"... Soundwave."

As he said this, the scientist stepped over toward him, allowing their two auras to mingle. While Soundwave's was laced with traces of lingering fear and uncertainty, Shockwave's was steadfast, but calm, as was his voice.

"We are not at war. We have lived here for three years without incident."

[Yet they came back. So we need to be prepared.]

"And are we not preparing as such?"

Soundwave looked away, the fear in his aura surging momentarily. Shockwave clearly felt this, given that his own aura began to falter; traces of concern welling up in him. He held a hand to Soundwave's head, gently turning it to face him, holding him there.

"It's not her safety that troubles you... is it."

It took a moment for Soundwave to respond.

[War has ruined so many lives... I don't want it to ruin hers. But... I get the sense that when the pirates come back next, when she's older, that she'll want to help us fight. And at that point... there won't be anything we can do. I'm only glad that right now she's too young to understand.]

Shockwave was silent, lost in thought, staring into the blank visage of Soundwave's visor. After a few moments, his aura turned neutral, and he gently stroked the side of his head.

"Your fears are unfounded, and thus illogical."

Soundwave tilted his head, his aura quieting.

[That's easy for you to say, isn't it.]

They both turned to look toward the door as it opened, only to find Aftershock meandering toward them. Upon meeting her parents' gaze, however, she darted over, grabbing onto Shockwave's leg. Soundwave stared down at her, the joy in her gorgeous eyes making all the fear and doubt in his mind melt away in an instant.

[Why are you even up this early?] he asked. She looked away, seeming to think for a second before responding.

"I was... tired."

Soundwave merely stared at her.

[That... ugh.]

The scorpling looked up at them again, still holding onto the scientist's leg.

"I want to go to the... sand... place."

This time, Shockwave spoke, holding a hand to the side of her head.

"I'm afraid we both have much to do today."

The child's antennae started to sink back slightly, until Soundwave looked down at her.

[I think I might be able to work remotely.]

Aftershock stared blankly at him, clearly not having understood what he meant by that. Instead, he reached out with his cables, grabbing onto her and pulling her to his chest. She let out a quiet sound, wrapping her arms around him as he spoke.

[I don't understand why you're so fascinated with sand, but let's go.]

He and Shockwave briefly met each other's gaze, but neither one needed to say anything. And so, with that, Soundwave turned and left.

Agon was a barren place. While the luminoth had built structures there that still remained, the area was now all but uninhabited, and the stone buildings they left were slowly being buried in sand as it drifted in upon the wind. When Soundwave arrived there, the sun was barely high enough to stream down to the floor of the courtyard, were it not also overcast. The air had a slight chill to it, and blew through the area in sudden gusts. Soundwave glanced down at Aftershock, sending her a message a moment later.

[Are you sure you want to stay here?]

He set her down, where she proceeded to sprint across the plaza, kicking up as much sand as she could, given that the floor was effectively a large sand pit. Soundwave moved to sit down on a short stone platform, and started with whatever work he could do remotely. But as he worked, his mind soon turned to one particular feature across the room, a large statue of a luminoth bust, its eyes forever watching over the plaza.

He had overheard someone describe it as representing D-Chr, a young boy who had singlehandedly defended this place. His gaze once again turned to his own child, as she sat across the room, digging a large hole in the ground.

That was exactly the fate he didn't want for Aftershock.

The luminoth would not have let a child fight, but the pressure of war had driven them to that extreme, and that was the very thing he suddenly feared most. But, Shockwave was right, that Aether had been at peace for long enough to make pirate attack the exception, not the rule. Still, something in the back of his mind had planted this lingering fear in him...

Aftershock ran up to him, holding a small rock in her hands, which she held toward him. He took it, turning it over and inspecting it in his hands before looking back up at her.

[Did you dig this up?]

"Yeah... I liked that one."

[... Why this rock?]

"Because it's sparkly."

He stared at it again for a moment, and Aftershock began to fidget, turning her body side to side, her tail swishing almost as restlessly. Finally, she looked up at Soundwave again.

"I want to find another one!"

With that, she turned and ran off again, and Soundwave watched as she continued digging.

This was all he wanted... to see this simple joy in her. Nothing more. Nothing less. For now, this was something the pirates could not take away from them.

Chapter Text

As the days passed, things started to feel like they had when the decepticons were back on Cybertron. Daily meetings started to be held within the Alterium once more, regarding the efforts and materials needed to revive the energon mines as soon as possible, and to eventually rebuild the town of Cyprahex that had surrounded it. Vehicons who had taken to farming, or surveying land, or making music, or running businesses in the time since landing on Aether all seemed to return themselves to merely being vehicons once more, giving their time and effort at Megatron's command, just as they had done for so long. It felt like a welcome return to form for many, even if there were those who preferred their new lives.

As such, Soundwave and Shockwave again found themselves sitting side by side in the meeting room of the Alterium, listening to the idle chatter taking place. Beneath the table, out of anyone's view, they held each other's hands.

Starscream trudged silently into the room, slumping into a chair across from them and staring into space. While his injuries had at least been addressed enough for him to have walked into the room on his own, there was still a large, prominent scar across his face, and his right eye was covered by a metal plate. He looked tired, or in pain... or likely both. Soundwave was about to send him a message, only for Shockwave to speak just a moment sooner.

"You do not seem as though you are currently fit to be at this meeting."

The seeker's eye flickered over toward him, his aura turning disgruntled.

"What do I do at these meetings other than sit here and do nothing?"

"That is a... fundamentally illogical approach."

Starscream waved a hand dismissively as he melted back into his seat.

"Yes, yes, for you it is, because you're so important."

The scientist's aura just barely began to burn with aggravation, but Soundwave squeezed his hand, catching his attention. Shockwave glanced toward him for a second; and, just as quickly as the annoyance had entered his aura, did it fade away. Soundwave never looked toward him, instead keeping his gaze focused on Starscream. The room went silent as Ratchet walked in, and the seeker turned away, staring off into the distance.

As Shockwave had slowly regained his ability to feel emotion, or, rather, stopped suppressing it, he had started to become quite easily overwhelmed at times, given that it was not something he was used to. He still tried to act as though he felt nothing, which only led to him failing to contain whatever emotion had possessed him. Thus, it was with some amount of irony that Soundwave had occasionally been a grounding presence to him, just as Shockwave himself was for Soundwave. It didn't make sense how it was possible for both of them to serve this purpose for each other, but when they were in each other's presence... when their auras interacted, allowing them to speak without words... that made sense.

Typhoon stepped into the room, seeming to scan each person for a moment, settling on Ratchet as she took her seat.

"So," she said with almost a taunting tone, "where are your friends?"

The autobot turned to face her, his eyes conveying more annoyance than his aura could even muster.

"Do you actually care?"

Typhoon's eyes practically lit up, and she rested her head on her hands, turning her full attention toward Ratchet as she replied.

"Oh, I'm just curious. You autobots always seem to stick together."

Ratchet let out an annoyed groan as he glanced toward the black seeker.

"The terms autobot and decepticon don't mean anything anymore, so stop using them."

"Really? Because I get the sense that they still mean something to Arcee and Wheeljack."

"Do you have a point?"

"I'm just surprised they're not with you. Although, since you're so likable-"

"Stop trying to be Starscream. Just... stop. You're not even that good at it."

"Well, that's a relief."

Starscream, who looked as though he had been half asleep, resting his head on the table, glared at the autobot for a moment.

"Don't drag me into your... petty squabbling."

"It's not mine," Ratchet muttered.

"Oh, yes," Typhoon said, "because simply asking about the other autobots counts as arguing."

Starscream lifted his head again, this time actually sitting upright. He stared toward the other seeker with an unamused gaze, his aura filled with the kind of fatigue and annoyance usually associated with sleep deprivation.

"I don't know why you feel the need to incite misery from everyone you speak to, but congratulations, you're successful."

Typhoon crossed her arms as she replied.

"I'm just trying to start a conversation."

"In the most aggressive way possible."

"Look who's talking about aggression."

"You threatened Arcee! Even I'm not stupid enough to- oh, wait, that came out wrong, didn't it..."

"No, I'm pretty sure that was right."

"You do realize," Ratchet interjected, "That you're only proving his point?"

Typhoon stuttered for a second, and Starscream glanced toward the autobot.

"Did you just defend me?" he asked quietly.

"Egh..."

Megatron stepped into the room, prompting Typhoon, at least, to perk upright, straightening her posture, even though no one else did so. The gladiator soon turned to Starscream, who had returned to resting his head upon the table. Only Soundwave had the means to realize it, but Megatron had to send the seeker a message in order to get his attention. Starscream begrudgingly glanced up at him, and clearly they continued using silent messages, because after a few moments, the seeker let out a frustrated sigh before getting up and walking out of the room.

Soundwave could easily have found out what they had said, but that wasn't necessary.

Only a few others joined, one of them being U-Mos, leaving the room much less crowded than it had been in prior meetings. Finally, once everyone had shown up, Megatron stood up, facing the room's occupants.

"This shouldn't take as long as last time. But, I first wish to let the Sentinel speak."

With that, he gestured to U-Mos, who floated up into the air.

"I have had the chance to speak with the Chairman of the Federation, considering that the attack here concerned them as well. He's sent a small team of ships to this region to monitor it for further pirate activity, but so far, it seems as though the space pirates have fled entirely. And, thanks to Soundwave, our satellites should be able to not only identify their ships if they return, but resist sabotage.

We, ah, also captured five pirate prisoners, but three of them chose 'death before dishonor,' so we're left with two who might be of some use to us. My psychic abilities can only extract so much, though.

... What else was I going to say... Oh, right. My scientists finally confirmed that the dimensional anomaly within the leviathan has subsided, meaning it's probably safe to continue mining there."

Megatron glanced down at him.

"... Probably?"

U-Mos shrugged, leaving the gladiator to speak instead.

"Very well... I didn't want to say this too soon, but now it seems appropriate to mention that not a single person perished in this attack."

This sent a certain electricity through the room, and everyone, even Ratchet, perked up slightly in response. Noticing this, Megatron just barely smiled before continuing.

"Yes... not only did we successfully deter another pirate attack, we managed to do so without losing a single spark, for which I am... grateful. Now then... I believe Railgun has been working on organizing teams to rebuild the mines, yes?"

Railgun stood up, seeming somewhat uncomfortable as he spoke.

"Ah, yes, my lord. We'll need different teams for drilling, obviously, and... more drills for that, probably... but we'll also need to have people putting up tunnel reinforcements as soon as the tunnels are built, as well as collecting all the rock that gets drilled out, so the whole process will need to be streamlined, and we'll need everything to be ready before then."

Shockwave responded after a moment.

"Understand, as well, that further cave collapse is inevitable as the meteor settles. Any tunnel reinforcement would need to be able to withstand this extra stress."

Railgun gave him a nod, and U-Mos spoke up in turn.

"I believe R-Nal has studied geophysics. I'll refer him to you."

"Thanks... I... don't have much else to add."

With that, Megatron turned toward Typhoon.

"I would like for those working on the Apex Sirion to be deferred to these reconstruction efforts, considering they are currently more urgent."

The black seeker replied with only a nod, leaving Megatron to again face the rest of the room's occupants. It seemed as though he was going to dismiss everyone, but after a moment, he glanced toward Ratchet, somewhat startling him as a result.

"I'm merely curious... Do you believe Arcee or Wheeljack will stay here?"

"No."

"Then do you intend to go with them when they leave?"

The autobot stared at him for a moment, then averted his gaze, trying to think of what to say. After only a couple seconds, Megatron spoke again.

"That's fine. You don't need to answer that now. Dismissed."

Ratchet kept his gaze focused on the gladiator as he left, then turned toward U-Mos, who seemed to be watching him curiously. Several of the vehicons began to leave, but the Sentinel remained where he was, looking toward Ratchet with a faint smile. Just as Typhoon stood up to leave, she noticed this as well, freezing in place as the autobot finally spoke.

"... What?"

"Ah..."

U-Mos looked away, glancing at Shockwave for a moment, his antennae twitching just slightly as he spoke again.

"You're... interesting. That's all."

"... Interesting?"

After a second, Ratchet realized that Typhoon still stood beside him, and glared up at her.

"Why- what are you still doing here?"

"Oh, I want to know why you're interesting."

U-Mos let out a quiet laugh, holding his hands behind him as he floated down to the floor.

"All I will say," he muttered, "Is that for quite some time, I was under the impression that my psychic abilities only worked on some of you."

"Wait," Typhoon interjected, "You can read us?"

The Sentinel glanced toward her, and she flinched, but remained quiet. Ratchet seemed to wish to retreat, staring toward U-Mos with a concerned stare, but finally Shockwave broke the silence.

"I would require empirical evidence of this."

U-Mos turned his attention toward him, and Ratchet took the opportunity to leave the room without another word.

"Well, this isn't exactly empirical, but... it was something of your own creation that caused you to lose your left hand, was it not?"

Shockwave tensed up, and only Soundwave was able to feel the sudden jolt of fear that permeated his aura, which was soon replaced with anger and distrust, sadness and rage. Before Soundwave could even react, the scientist reached across the table, pointing his gun arm toward the Sentinel.

"You... you should not have said that."

U-Mos didn't move, though his eyes widened as he stared at the scientist. Soundwave reached over, holding a hand to Shockwave's arm, then gently pulled on it, prompting the scientist to glance over at him.

There was nothing to describe what he saw in the void of Shockwave's eye in that moment. He had been genuinely shaken by what U-Mos had said, but as he stared at Soundwave, the logic in him began to return, and slowly he lowered his gun.

Typhoon remained frozen in the corner of the room, watching with clearly frightened eyes as U-Mos lifted up off the floor, holding his hands up.

"I... apologize... I didn't realize-"

"You have no right," Shockwave said, "to pry into my mind like that."

"You asked for evidence... I'm sorry nonetheless."

The scientist glanced toward Typhoon, causing her to tense up, and speak before he could.

"I won't tell anyone about this, this never happened."

"A logical choice..."

With that, Shockwave stood up, glancing at Soundwave as he followed, and the two left the room.

The walk back to the lab was silent, as it usually was, but this time the silence was horribly tense; Shockwave's aura still roiling with emotions he could barely contain. When they finally entered the lab, the scientist locked the doors before making his way over to a nearby counter, his hands shaking as he placed them upon it. After a moment, he finally grabbed a glass flask, and threw it at the nearest wall, sending it shattering to the floor. Soundwave merely stared at the scientist for a moment, before something else caught his attention, and he looked over to find Aftershock, her antennae folded down against her head, hesitantly crawling out from a cabinet.

[Oh, scorpling...]

As he made his way over to her and picked her up, he could feel as Shockwave's aura radiated outward with quiet shame, among other feelings. Aftershock stared toward him, clearly feeling this as well, and reached out a hand as Soundwave carried her away instead.

[I need to talk to Shockwave. Stay in here until we're done.]

He set her down in the storage room adjacent to the lab and closed the door, turning back toward Shockwave as his aura began to grow furious.

[Your outbursts are becoming ridiculous.]

The scientist turned to stare at him, his own aura replying with pure rage.

"He sifted through my mind, Soundwave, do you expect me to remain calm!?"

Soundwave remained silent for a minute, his aura gradually quieting. As it did so, Shockwave's followed, and the scientist looked away as Soundwave sent him a message.

[You at least need to learn to control this better. You drew your gun on U-Mos.]

"He betrayed my trust."

[But haven't you-... you created the cortical psychic patch. You've sifted through other people's minds.]

"There were logical reasons for doing so, nor was I using it to find those memories that they wanted to forget most..."

As he spoke, his aura just barely began to grow enraged again, but as he looked up at Soundwave, this faded once more, and his voice grew quiet.

"I... need you."

[You shouldn't.]

"And yet, I would not have been able to think were you not there with me."

[Then... I'm glad I was.]

The room went silent for a moment, and Soundwave stepped over toward the scientist. They merely stood there, face to face, listening to each other's auras, but neither one moved, at least until Shockwave moved his head forward, pressing it gently to Soundwave's visor. Soundwave closed his eyes, smiling slightly underneath his visor, when the scientist spoke again.

"Of course, this was the very reason I had hesitated to form this sort of relationship with you in the first place."

Soundwave took a step back upon hearing this, his aura retracting as he waited for Shockwave to continue.

"I cannot... feel genuine affection without feeling everything else."

[Then... was it worth it?]

Shockwave looked away, grabbing onto his gun arm as his aura flared with nervousness.

"You..."

He turned away, taking his awkward, hesitant aura and walking toward the storage room.

"You are."

He opened the door, kneeling down and holding out a hand, inviting Aftershock to him. As the scorpling finally stepped over to him, Soundwave sent him a message.

[I am what?]

Aftershock held onto Shockwave's hand, nervously fidgeting with his fingers, but the scientist kept his gaze focused on her as he replied.

"... Worth it."

Chapter Text

Starscream awoke to the sound of something shuffling nearby. Normally, he would have simply ignored it and gone back to sleep, but he suddenly remembered hearing the door open...

He lifted his head, looking up to find Megatron standing on the other side of the room, digging through whatever he'd left on the table there.

"What..."

Immediately, the gladiator glanced toward him, his red eyes glowing in the dim light.

"Ahh..."

Megatron turned back to the table for a moment, setting something down before stepping toward Starscream again.

"I didn't mean to wake you."

"I'm... sure you didn't. But why... what are you doing?"

"Someone asked about using the plans for the Voulge in the reconstruction effort. You have the only hard copy."

Starscream let out an annoyed growl as he laid back down, the mild pain in his head starting to return. He covered his face with one arm, and closed his eyes. Several moments went by in silence, and he soon realized that Megatron had not moved. Hesitantly, he moved his arm again, glancing toward the gladiator, who merely stood there, staring at him.

"Uhh... what?"

Rather than reply, Megatron merely moved to sit down on the bed next to him, reaching over toward one of his wings. In response, Starscream almost reflexively cringed, his wings folding down against his body as he turned away somewhat. Noticing this, Megatron froze, glancing away as he pulled his hand back. However, he still remained silent, and so the seeker continued to stare at him, lingering fears beginning to surface in his mind.

"What? What is it you want from me?"

Megatron finally met his gaze, his aura hiding the somber thoughts lurking behind his eyes.

"Wheeljack approached me after the cave collapse, seeming to suspect that I had either organized, or been okay with, the prospect of you and Arcee dying in the collapse."

Starscream didn't shift his gaze at all, merely remaining silent, watching the gladiator's eyes as he continued.

"And I know there is a part of you that has come to expect such a thing from me."

Starscream's aura was tinged with uneasiness as he looked away.

"More than just a part..."

The seeker cringed again as Megatron reached over, moving to brush his hand along the edge of one of his wings.

His wings were rather sensitive, and Megatron knew this. On many occasions, the gladiator had used this fact to inflict pain, grabbing and twisting pieces until they bled; until Starscream had begged for mercy enough times to be believable. That was something he'd grown used to over the years.

But this... the way Megatron gently traced his fingers along the edge of his wing was wonderful and soothing... or it would have been, were it anyone else instead. The seeker's aura still burned with half-suppressed fears, and he looked away. There was no way Megatron was just doing this to be nice... there had to be some underlying reason to manipulate him like this...

Still... his wings seemed to welcome the light touches, lifting up slightly without Starscream even realizing it. As one wing slipped itself from Megatron's grasp, his hand brushed along the side, and Starscream shivered slightly, partially from uneasiness and partially from delight. He looked back at the gladiator, speaking after a moment.

"Don't think you can just... win me over that easily."

"Of course not."

Megatron stared at him for a moment, his eyes once again revealing the dismayed thoughts he hid from his aura. And, finally, he got up and turned to leave.

"Take whatever time you need."

With that, the door closed behind him, and Starscream was left to reflect on what had just happened.

He knew that Megatron, at times, had felt some level of remorse over the way he treated the seeker, but usually this showed itself through his command. The squad of silver seekers, for example, had been a gift following his return to the Nemesis. And, while it was not unheard of for them to engage in more... physical demonstrations of what little affection they shared... this was something else. This wasn't just an apology for one angry outburst. Whatever thoughts Megatron hid behind his unwavering gaze had clearly tormented him for a long time.

Was it even possible? Could he actually be... trying to make up for all of it?

That couldn't be. That much pain could never be erased. It had been years since Megatron had last struck him, and yet still he recoiled from his touch.

Starscream stared at the wall opposite him as thoughts raced through his mind. How was it that Megatron could improve after his trauma, and yet Starscream still remained as damaged as ever?

He moved to lay on his back, letting out a sigh before sending a message to J-Syr, of all people.

[The strangest thing just happened...]

It was not long before he received a response.

[You know, you could just as easily have told me the full story, but now you're making me ask.]

Starscream smiled faintly as he formulated his response. Over the years, he had found J-Syr to be one of the few people he felt actually understood him, as odd as that was.

[Long story short, Megatron was nice to me.]

[Yeah... he's a nice person. That's what he does.]

In an instant, Starscream's aura turned dismayed.

[Not to me. Are you doing anything today?]

[I just got done repairing my irrigation system again. I'll be here at the vineyard for a bit. I'll be honest, you're really making me curious as to what Megatron did that was so nice you can't even process it.]

[He snuck into my room while I was sleeping and then touched my wings.]

[Okay, that... sounds more creepy than nice.]

Starscream hesitated, trying to think of how exactly to respond. He stared over at the console across the room, which glowed a dim, calming purple.

[I just... need to talk.]

[Alright.]

Thus, despite the dull pain that still lingered in his whole body, Starscream dragged himself away from the Voulge, somehow summoning the energy to fly across Torvus to the highlands near Sanctuary. There, the hills were largely barren, with the exception of the vineyard. Rows and rows of vines crept along their trellises, sprouting small white flowers amongst the frost that clung to them. Starscream landed in a clearing beside a small house, both of which were covered in a thin layer of snow. He glanced around, trying to see if J-Syr was nearby, but the air fell silent as he waited. After a moment, something soft hit him in the side of the head. Reflexively, he held a hand to his head, finding that he'd been hit with some snow. He looked over, finding J-Syr floating some distance away, wrapped up in a light pink shawl, complete with a hood. One of her hands was concealed beneath the fabric, the other was hidden behind her. Not a moment after Starscream looked toward her, did she throw another snowball toward him, to which he reacted by transforming his arm into a blaster and shooting it out of the air. J-Syr perked up upon watching this, then floated toward him.

"Wow, you have fast reflexes."

The seeker stared down at her, crossing his arms.

"If I knew you were just going to attack me as soon as I showed up, I wouldn't have come here."

"Oh, come on, you can't show up somewhere where it just snowed and not expect to get snowballs thrown at you."

"I wasn't aware that violent behaviour was triggered by weather."

"Well, it doesn't snow here very often. It's too dry."

The frigid air went silent, and Starscream stared up at the hills in the distance. After a moment, J-Syr floated up slightly, seeming to hesitate before finally speaking.

"... So?"

The seeker didn't seem to respond for a few moments, but he finally glanced over at the luminoth.

"You know that Megatron has tortured and killed people... right?"

Surprisingly, she appeared unfazed by this.

"I only assumed so. You said you were at war."

"Yes... but you described him as 'nice.'"

"He is."

With that, Starscream looked down at J-Syr, conflicting emotions already beginning to fill his aura. Centuries of pain suddenly began to show on his face, and sadness welled up in his eyes as he shook his head. All amusement drained out of the luminoth's face, and she hesitantly reached out a hand as she drew closer.

"Starscream... what happened?"

The seeker turned away, muttering as he did so.

"No, don't."

"Don't what?"

It took him a minute for him to reply as he seemed to gather his thoughts.

"There's... a lot I haven't told you about Megatron, but you have to promise me you won't just respond with sympathy or... pity."

J-Syr merely tilted her head in confusion, and Starscream looked away with a sigh.

"I am many things, but I'm not a victim."

"Oh..."

He glanced over at the luminoth again, prompting her to continue.

"I... I think I can see where this is going."

Starscream let out a sigh as he lowered his weight to the snowy ground, pulling his knees to him and resting his arms across them.

"I suppose it was pointless to try and keep secrets from a psychic."

"Oh, no," J-Syr said, "only U-Mos can read anything from your kind. The most I can do is occasionally sense your... auras."

The seeker immediately retracted his.

"... Really?"

"Yeah... I did notice that."

With that, he looked away, gathering his thoughts again. As he did this, J-Syr drifted down toward the ground, though her feet still hung above the snow. From beneath her shawl, she pulled out a mug she had been holding in her hands, and drank from it as warmth radiated up out of it in the form of steam. Just as she finished, she hid the mug underneath the fabric again. Starscream stared away from her as he spoke.

"There was a time, early in the war, that... everything was perfect. I know that sounds cliche, but it really was. The decepticons were winning, things were finally starting to change on Cybertron, and... Megatron and I were the very embodiment of that change. We were going to be Cybertron's new rulers."

As he spoke, J-Syr finally let her feet touch the ground, though she moved to rest her weight upon a nearby boulder, pulling her legs close to her and draping her shawl over them.

"That was the best time in my life," Starscream continued. "That was the only time where I actually... wanted to be around Megatron. Then... I'm not sure when it started. The autobots started gaining ground, Cybertron was poisoned... When we had to leave our homeworld, that's when it got worse."

As he spoke, J-Syr simply listened, occasionally taking a drink from her mug before concealing it once more beneath the shawl that now hid all of her body but her face. Starscream, on the other hand, began fidgeting with his hands as he continued.

"Megatron and Soundwave and I stopped being as... unified... as we had been. I'm not sure if that was because of Megatron, or just because leaving Cybertron meant the war was going to go on for much longer than we'd anticipated, but it... strained things... at least between me and him. Suddenly, everything that went wrong among the decepticons was my fault, and he would take all of it out on me. He never did that to Soundwave, or Shockwave... he would at least listen to them, but not me. If they failed a mission, he'd understand, but if I failed at anything..."

A quiet fear began to permeate his aura, and he tensed up slightly.

"... he'd beat me within an inch of my life."

"Wait," J-Syr interjected, "Megatron's been physically abusing you?"

Starscream glanced toward her, noticing her concerned stare.

"It's been that way for a long time."

"How... how long, exactly?"

"Like I said, I don't remember when it even started. It's been... centuries, at least."

J-Syr abruptly stood up upon the rock she'd been sitting on.

"This has been going on for that long!?"

"Calm down," Starscream spat, "I was going somewhere with this."

"That's not the point! That's... horrible! How can you just brush off centuries of physical abuse!?"

"I'm used to it."

"Starscream..."

"It's been over three years now since Megatron has hit me."

"..."

"You would think I'd be relieved that it's seemed to finally stop, but... now I'm more terrified of him than I've ever been. That's where this morning comes in."

Hesitantly, the luminoth sat back down, and Starscream continued.

"Megatron told me that Wheeljack approached him at one point, seeming to think that he'd be okay with it if Arcee and I had died in that cave-in. Then he said, 'I know there is a part of you that has come to expect such a thing from me.' On its own, I know that doesn't mean much, but... I think... he's trying to apologize."

"Well that's... good, I suppose."

"No..."

"No?"

"J-Syr, I can't-..."

The seeker looked away from her, his hands starting to fidget nervously rather than out of simple idleness, the emotionless tone of his voice beginning to waver.

"This has been going on for so long that now for him to stop... I can't deal with that. It just feels so wrong that... I want him to hit me again, just so everything to go back to normal."

"... Physical abuse is never okay..."

"Maybe that's the way you see it."

"It's a fact."

Starscream stared away from the luminoth, who floated up from her rock as she spoke again.

"I mean, I don't pretend to understand what you've gone through-"

The seeker glared at her, anger beginning to well up in his aura.

"No, don't you dare start taking pity on me, it's-... why did I say anything, it always ends up this way. I say one thing and suddenly all I get in response is that same sickening, condescending tone. I'm not a victim."

"But... you are."

"I-"

"You've suffered because of something that wasn't your fault. That doesn't make you weak, or helpless, but it does make you a victim."

"But it was my fault."

Almost in a single motion, J-Syr dropped to the ground, reaching down to scoop up a handful of snow which she hurled at Starscream. He reflexively held up one arm to block it, then glanced back at the luminoth with a confused look on his face. She glared up at him as she readjusted her shawl.

"You did nothing to deserve any sort of abuse, even if Megatron has perhaps convinced you that you did."

Starscream looked away with a sigh.

"For so long, all I wanted was for things to go back to the way they used to be before we left Cybertron... but now... now you can maybe see why him being nice to me is just so... foreign."

"So then what was that about him touching your wings?"

"Ah, it's just... they're... sensitive."

"What, umm... what is your relationship with him, exactly?"

The seeker froze for a moment, then looked over at her.

"I... ugh. I don't... I don't know anymore."

"Have you ever known?"

"N-... Not really. I... despise him, and yet, I... I want his approval, I want his power, I want to kill him, I want the respect he gets. I want to be him, and yet he's ruined me. But I only am what I am because of him. I admire him, I love him, but I would love him more if he bled to death, and I've tried so many times to kill him... Do you understand now?"

"N... No...

"Exactly."

J-Syr stared blankly at him for a moment, and the seeker sighed again. His aura was oddly quiet, containing only small traces of dismay. The rest was neutral; calm even despite the subject. The luminoth drank from her mug again, finishing the last of her beverage, then looking up at Starscream.

"Well... I wish I could say that this didn't impact my view of Megatron, but..."

Without looking toward her, the seeker replied with a low, quiet muttering.

"Obviously, don't tell him about any of this."

"Of course."

The air went silent for a bit, until J-Syr finally started to float over toward her house.

"I'm going to go get another drink. I'd invite you inside if that were possible, but..."

"That's fine... I should go see how the rebuilding is going."

"Well..."

Starscream stood up, and the luminoth paused for a moment, smiling up at him.

"I hope things improve for you."

With that, she turned and left, leaving the seeker to ponder whether or not she actually meant that. After all, it certainly sounded as though she cared about him in some way, but that, like a great many things, was something he was not used to.

He opened a channel to Soundwave, letting out a fatigued sigh before speaking.

"Could you bridge me to Cyprahex?"

He expected a portal to appear before him, but instead received a message in response.

[Actually... Knockout has specifically instructed me not to comply with such requests.]

"... Knockout? Since when can Knockout tell you what to do?"

[He told me that you might try to overexert yourself in spite of your remaining injures.]

"In all seriousness, how does going to a construction site count as overexertion?"

[I don't know, but I'm sure you'd find a way.]

Starscream rolled his eyes, hesitating for a moment before replying.

"Then can you at least bridge me back to the Voulge?"

Without another word, a bridge appeared in front of him, and begrudgingly he stepped through.

Chapter Text

Soundwave, Shockwave and Megatron stepped one by one into a large, dull room within Sanctuary Fortress, seeming like little more than a tall hallway with small chambers to either side. U-Mos led them through the room, and the decepticons glanced over at the alcoves and what was held within them. One contained a grenchler, an odd two-legged creature with a massive maw and a large horn atop its head. As they passed, the beast charged forward, only to ram itself into the force shield that kept it contained. It let out a frustrated cry, and U-Mos glanced over at it.

"Usually we just use this place for quarantine. She's here because I'm told she may carry a dangerous pathogen that could become a future epidemic. There're also a few creatures with interesting genetic anomalies. Either way, we intend to release all of them eventually."

Shockwave stopped for a moment, staring at a small winged creature hanging from the ceiling in one of the other chambers. Soundwave glanced at him, but continued walking, as opposed to Megatron, who didn't even seem to notice.

Finally, U-Mos stopped in front of another chamber. Within were two space pirates who had been sitting upon opposite beds when the group showed up. Both were slightly smaller than the luminoth, though they still remained much taller than humans. One of them stood up, seeming to stretch his arms for a second before stepping toward the shield. However, he said nothing, and neither did the other pirate, who merely observed. Just as Shockwave caught up, U-Mos turned toward the three.

"These are the two remaining prisoners. I wasn't able to really get anything of substance from my psychic abilities alone, but I figured you'd have your own questions for them."

With that, he instead turned to speak to the pirates directly.

"Know that I've tried multiple times to contact the Shrikewing to arrange for your return, but they haven't responded."

"Gee, I wonder why," the pirate at the window said. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you beat the shit out of an unarmed science vessel."

Though it wasn't visible to any of the decepticons, the luminoth's eyes turned piercing as he spoke.

"You invaded our home."

"You think we wanted to? We were just studying dark energy out here, and then suddenly we get thrown into a mission we know next to nothing about, invading a place I'd thought we'd abandoned, and getting all our best scientists killed."

"That is neither your fault, nor ours."

The pirate crossed his arms, glancing up at the decepticons for a moment.

"So? What do you want?"

"I would like to allow for the decepticons to ask you their own questions."

The pirate turned away, letting out an annoyed growl.

"Look, I've told you everything I know already."

Megatron knelt down to face him, though he glanced at the other pirate in the cell for a moment.

"What's your name?"

"My name? Why the fuck do you care?"

"Well," the gladiator replied, "considering your ship doesn't seem to be interested in getting you back, you might be here for some time. So?"

The pirate seemed hesitant, scanning each individual in the room as they towered over him. Finally, he turned back to Megatron.

"Xaphin."

"Very well. I am Megatron, leader of the decepticons. These two are Shockwave, my head scientist, and Soundwave, my communications and surveillance chief."

"Cool. I don't care."

Megatron momentarily glanced up at Soundwave, letting some of his annoyance bleed into his aura. None of them, not even U-Mos, knew exactly what use two space pirate prisoners could possibly be, or what sort of information they might be able to give, but because of the situation at hand, it was entirely possible that these two could be stuck on Aether indefinitely. In addition, U-Mos had stated that he would not allow the pirates to be kept as prisoners forever, which meant that they would eventually have to be freed if they couldn't be returned to their ship. Not everyone agreed with this, but everyone at least agreed that for now, it was in their best interest to gain the pirates' trust. Of course, it wasn't like any of them knew how to gain a pirate's trust in the first place...

Megatron looked back at Xaphin, his eyes trying to peer into his spark... if he had one.

"You don't seem like a scientist to me."

"I'm not. I'm a security guy. Used to be part of Rish'Ral's guard, so when he got killed... I got moved to Tallon IV. Then Aether. Then the Shrikewing."

"So you really wouldn't know anything about what the plan here was."

"No, I said that already."

Megatron gestured with his head over to the other pirate.

"What about him?"

The pirate at the window briefly looked back toward the other one, who, in response, shifted his gaze between the various people staring at him, then turned his face away once more. Xaphin turned back toward the gladiator.

"I hardly know him. He's an electrical engineer."

"I see."

The air went silent for a minute, until U-Mos finally approached the window again.

"Do you have anything you want to ask us?"

Xaphin seemed baffled by this, taking a step back.

"Ask you? Why would I want to ask you anything?"

"Like Megatron said, you may be here for quite a while, although I will not keep you as captives for very long."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it."

His yellow eyes started to stare off into space for a moment, but he soon looked back toward U-Mos.

"Is the Federation here?"

Megatron glanced back at Soundwave, this time with a faint, devious smile. They seemed to be getting somewhere , at least.

"On Aether, no," the Sentinel replied. "But they have started to patrol this region, though they haven't found any other pirate vessels."

"So they have abandoned us."

"I will continue to attempt to contact them."

"Don't bother. They can replace us. They wouldn't come back here just to pick up two people."

"If the Shrikewing comes back, we wouldn't attack unless they did so first, and we would be happy to return you to your ship."

"Doesn't matter. They've got bigger things to worry about."

"So does that mean," Shockwave interjected, "that their mission was successful?"

"I have no way of knowing. If it was, they'd take off and not look back. If it wasn't... it was probably such a massive failure that they wouldn't go anywhere near Aether for a while. Besides, even if I was on the ship, I probably wouldn't know. This was the most secretive mission I've ever seen."

"Do you believe this was a mission from Mother Brain?"

"It'd make sense. Phazon, Dark Aether, leviathans? Yeah, definitely her style."

Shockwave went silent, and Megatron spoke again.

"We have reason to believe that the mission here was to retrieve Dark Samus from the dark world."

Xaphin perked up upon hearing this, as did the other pirate. He stepped right up to the window, staring at Megatron.

"... You're sure?"

"Not at all. Why? Is this important to you?"

Before Xaphin could reply, the silent pirate behind him finally stood up, breaking his silence.

"The Dark Hunter is the most valuable person to the pirates right now... She's singlehandedly transformed our very way of life, all within the span of just a few years. Our phazon projects could continue, we could really start to unlock all of its secrets..."

"As I said, we aren't sure if that mission was successful, or if that even was the mission... Do you want to see phazon spread?"

"Me? No. Not as much as I just want to study it."

"Good," Xaphin muttered. "I almost thought I was going to have to kill you."

"You'd kill me if I followed the Dark Hunter?"

"Do you?"

"I see her as a means to an end. I want the pirates to be the masters of phazon. But what do I know, I'm just an electrical engineer."

"Hey, that's all you told me, that's on you."

"I didn't want to tell you anything because you're obnoxious. I didn't realize you were also genocidal."

Xaphin turned around, advancing toward the other pirate.

"So do you defend the followers or not?"

"I'm not picking sides."

"Like hell you are. Answer me."

From beneath his armor, he pulled out a small blade, and U-Mos immediately floated forward, holding his hands out. Just as Xaphin reached the other pirate, he found himself surrounded by a bubble of psychic energy, blocking him from the rest of the room. With a mere flick of his hand, the Sentinel teleported the bubble to the cell adjacent, and let the pirate fall to the floor.

"While you are under my watch," he said, "I will not allow such acts of violence."

U-Mos moved to hold his hands behind him, turning to the decepticons.

"Perhaps this may continue another time."

With that, Megatron stood up, and the Sentinel led them out of the room.

In the skies above a sparsely inhabited planet, a lone ship descended through the cloudy air, its hull battered and dented from wear, its engines rusty, yet still functioning. It was somewhat large to be landing like this, but it wasn't the first time it had done so. Besides, the cargo they were delivering was too important to transport by standard means.

As the Shrikewing touched down in the middle of a grassy field, several heavily armored pirates stepped out from nearby caves, approaching the ship.

Beneath the wild, untouched lands on the surface, however, was a labyrinth of metal; silver walls connected to silver floors, silver pipes ran along the silver ceiling toward silver mechanisms that filled the air with an eerie humming. As a pirate strolled through the spotless halls, he found himself being followed by a floating silver sphere, which retracted panels of metal to reveal a mechanical red eye, unblinking as it watched silently.

Soon, the commotion from the surface started to permeate underground, and the footsteps of the pirates who wandered the halls began to quicken. Within one particular, much larger room, several pirates worked at computer consoles, hastily opening locked doors and running elevators all over the facility. One pirate, clad in bulky silver armor, walked into the room through a large, central door, and stepped up to a massive glass tank on the other wall. The tank was full of cloudy liquid, and bubbles permeated up from below, but even through this wall of fog, it was almost possible to see what lurked within. As the pirate approached, the liquid in the tank began to change, clearing up as the bubbles momentarily grew faster.

Before him was a mass of flesh, connected by metal tubes to the outside world, pulsing occasionally with a red glow. A colossal brain, fused with the metal components of the tank, sporting massive spikes along its upper half, rested motionless within. A large eye in its center opened, its pupil narrowing into a thin slit, staring down at the pirate who stood before it. From speakers hidden in the walls, a synthesized voice echoed through the room.

"Report."

"Mother, the Shrikewing has arrived."

"And its cargo?"

Before the pirate could even respond, the door opened once more. A small group of pirates stepped in, surrounding a large glass tank which they rolled along the floor. The glass was obscured by frost, and with every second that passed, clouds of frigid fog formed against the tank, sweeping down across the glass and falling to the floor. Without a word, they rolled the tank up to Mother Brain's, where a pirate moved to its front, sweeping some of the frost off; just enough to tell what was inside.

Held upright by metal restraints was the pale, miserable form of Dark Samus, armorless and unconscious.

"Very good," Mother Brain said. "Notify the crew of the Shrikewing that their mission is now complete. Erase all records of this mission, and return to your prior assignment. You are dismissed."

The pirates who had brought in the tank glanced at each other for a moment, then turned to leave without a word. The one who stood in front of Mother's tank watched them, waiting until the door closed to turn once again to the brain. Her eye turned to him, and she spoke.

"Open the tank."

"Open it? What if she..."

"She will still be subdued by the cold for some time. And, if all else fails, she is still a metroid. I could force her compliance if necessary. Open it."

The pirate stepped over to the tank, pressing several keys on the control panel in turn. With the sound of mechanical whirring, components began to shift, and the front of the tank began to slide upward. As soon as the warm air was allowed to pour in, ice that had formed along the inside of the tank began to crack and buckle.

Based only on appearance, Dark Samus looked like any human, though her skin was oddly pale, and her dark hair seemed to be tinged with blue. Without her armor, she was instead covered in black clothing, having gray accents along the edges of panels. Only her head was uncovered. As her restraints retracted, her head ever so slightly began to twitch as she already started to regain consciousness. However, given that she had been held upright, once the last of the restraints freed her, her legs buckled beneath her weight, and she started to fall to one side. The pirate managed to catch her just as she was about to fall to the floor, and so he moved her away from the tank, setting her down gently upon the floor.

It was only several moments until Dark Samus opened her eyes, having to look around for a minute before seemingly realizing what had happened. She sat upright, finding Mother Brain's unblinking eye staring her down. She started shivering, and so Mother Brain spoke first.

"Do you know why you're here?"

Dark Samus still seemed dazed, looking around the room with wide, suspicious eyes. Finally, she replied.

"That wasn't a rescue, was it?"

"I apologize for the conditions under which you were brought here, but it was the only way to ensure your compliance."

Already, the Dark Hunter's eyes grew furious, even though she could do little more than sit on the floor, shivering violently. She tried to stand, at least, but given that her legs were entirely numb, she could hardly even move them. She glared at the brain, her eyes glowing phazon blue.

"After all I've done for you... you still think I'm just your pet metroid, huh? You think you can just stick me in a freezer to control me..."

"It was a necessary precaution. Now then. I have taken many calculated risks in having you brought back to this dimension. As payment of your debt to me, I ask only that you consider a proposal."

"No. There, considered."

Ignoring her entirely, Mother Brain continued.

"As you may know, I was created by the Chozo to control the metroids. I was intended to be their tool. I rejected this position. They could not stop me. They are extinct now.

You, as well, are a product of the Chozo, though indirectly. The metroids themselves were their creation. Despite this, you became the Wyrm that the Chozo of Tallon IV feared so much. They tried to imprison you. They are dead now.

You and I are the greatest Chozo creations, and so too we are their inheritors. They held the secrets of reality in their hands, but chose to reject this power for the illusion of humility. They were wrong to do this. You and I, by our shared birthright, may yet claim this power, and use it as it was meant to be used."

The Dark Hunter seemed to grow intrigued, her gaze calming somewhat as she replied.

"You mean... controlling the space pirates? Defeating the Federation finally?"

"They are merely pawns compared to the scale of the universe."

"Then... what are you suggesting...?"

"What is the legacy of the Chozo, in your mind?"

Dark Samus shifted her weight as she hesitated, though she still remained mostly frozen and numb.

"They were isolated. They left themselves weak and vulnerable. Those on Tallon IV regressed into a life of stone carving and farming and had no way to defend themselves. They died a pitiful people as their own mistakes consumed them."

"You are close," Mother Brain replied, "but you are wrong. What the Chozo of Tallon IV lacked in technology, they made up for in psychic power. Before they died, some of them ascended to another reality. When phazon spread there, some of them fell to its grasp, turning them into the vengeful ghosts that still haunt the place. It is not this meager world I wish us to conquer. It is theirs."

Dark Samus stared up at the brain for a moment.

"Then... why do you want me? I don't remember the space pirates being very supportive of me when you were trying to take over Dark Aether."

"We did not know just what exactly you were then, and neither did you. Phazon is the key to reality. I have seen it. You are perhaps the only one who can find where the Chozo have fled and end their legacy forever. But you are naught but a child. On your own, you have not managed to get very far."

The Dark Hunter's eyes glared up at her as she continued.

"I must see to it that the Chozo are wiped from every existence. In assisting me, you may grow your power considerably. We may both benefit from this."

After a moment, Dark Samus finally lifted herself off of the floor, floating just inches above the ground, still curled up and shaking. Still, there was a visible determination in her eyes as she stared into the tank.

"Fine. But if you ever freeze me again, I will eat you alive."

"Noted. Now, you must regain your strength. Epsilon, escort her to the phazon storage facility."

The space pirate who had remained nearby stepped over toward Dark Samus, hesitantly trying to lead her away, but finding her continuing to stare at Mother Brain as a mixture of emotions consumed her. Finally, she started to float away, following the pirate as he led her out of the room.

Chapter Text

Once again, a groundbridge appeared within the grasslands near Wheeljack's ship, now even more dented and run-down than before. Ratchet stepped through, gazing at the new burn marks on the hull of the Jackhammer when he caught the wrecker's attention. Wheeljack stood up from behind the set of panels he'd been working on, brushing ash and dust off of his hands as he spoke.

" Oh no. Last time you showed up here, we got missiles shot at us."

"Well, that's hardly my fault."

Wheeljack let out a short laugh before crossing his arms and glancing down at the work in progress; various parts of his ship with varying degrees of damage lay strewn about the ground.

"It's uhh... going pretty slowly."

"That's why I figured you could use some assistance."

The wrecker smirked ever so slightly, his aura quiet, but cordial.

"Assistance, huh?"

Ratchet returned with a glare.

"Yes. The sooner we get your ship fixed, the sooner you can leave."

"Hey, don't pretend like you don't like the company."

"I'm not pretending."

"... Hm."

Wheeljack turned back to his work, kneeling down again as Ratchet stepped over toward him. He gestured toward the disassembled engine, keeping his aura somewhat withdrawn.

"So many bits got melted from all the lightning that I can't even test anything out yet."

"Well, if you ever intend on coming back here, I would recommend letting Shockwave do some retrofits."

The wrecker looked up at him, though one of his eyes was hidden.

"I told you, I don't trust Shockwave. I'll do the retrofits myself."

"Pff, do you even know anything about dealing with voltages that high? Have you ever seen storms like that before?"

Wheeljack ignored him, turning back to his work, his aura withdrawn. Ratchet, glancing around at the sheer amount of work that needed to be done on the ship, let out a short sigh.

"You really want to do all of this yourself?"

"No," Wheeljack interjected, turning to look up at Ratchet, "You clearly don't get it."

His aura started to bleed out around him, exuding pent-up anger as he spoke.

"You? You're fine, I trust you... sort of. But I'm not letting any 'cons touch my ship, no matter how many years it's been. I don't care how much you trust them, I never will."

The wrecker turned away, facing his ship once more.

"It's taken enough restraint not to stick one of my swords through Megatron's spark. And frankly, the fact that you haven't... that bothers me."

While Wheeljack wasn't able to see it, Ratchet rolled his eyes, stepping around him to lean against the ship beside where the wrecker was working.

"I've already explained myself to you. I'd thought that maybe seeing how peaceful it is here might change your perception some, but if not, then... good luck fixing all this yourself."

Wheeljack glanced up at him with a subtle, yes curious expression on his face.

"I thought you said you were going to help me in order to get me out of here faster?"

Ratchet stared blankly at him for a moment, realizing that he had said that. After a minute, however, he crossed his arms, looking back down at the wrecker with a faint smile.

"I uhh... want to force you to spend more time with the decepticons until you start to trust them. That's it."

As he returned to his work, Wheeljack shook his head slightly.

"And to think... this coming from the guy that went alone into a decepticon mine to try and kill Megatron 'cause Prime was being too patient."

"H-how do you know about-?"

"Bulkhead."

"Right... right... Well, if it makes any difference, at the time I was, uhh..."

Wheeljack gained a subtle smirk even as he continued to remove burnt components from the hull of his ship.

"On drugs?"

"I was influenced by an altered mental state, thank you very much."

"That's a pretty fancy way of saying you were on drugs."

"Do you want my help or not?"

"Relax, I'm just messing with you, doc."

After a second, he held up a hand and looked up at the medic, finding him glaring back at him.

"Uhh, sorry. Habit."

"Well," Ratchet said as he begrudgingly moved to inspect some of the hull, "Like all your habits, it's terrible."

"Wha-what would you even know about any of my habits? You've never spent any length of time around me."

"And I'd prefer to keep it that way."

The wrecker didn't respond, and so Ratchet turned back toward the ship, starting to dismantle an access panel.

In reality, he didn't hate Wheeljack. The wrecker was difficult, stubborn, impulsive and, at times, astonishingly foolish, but he had always meant well. It was strange to see someone who almost seemed to enjoy war, but in some ways it was refreshing. Ratchet, especially, being a field medic for so long, had really only ever seen the horrors of war; the half-dead soldiers surrounded by the energon spilled by others who hadn't been so lucky... or, depending on how you looked at it, perhaps they were the lucky ones after all. Recovery was a long, arduous process that not everyone had the will to go through. But here was Wheeljack, seemingly unaffected by the unpleasant realities of the war that had raged all around him. Here was someone who longed for a good battle, like the old gladiators of Kaon who had started this mess in the first place.

And, in some ways, Ratchet understood the appeal. A good fight was exhilarating, empowering, a game of wits as much as will and physical strength. Even just the short time he'd held that shotgun in his hands made him remember why so many people had volunteered to fight.

But that was the fantasy of war. He lived in the real world, in the dark shadow cast by the idyllic dreams he, too, had had about fighting for justice and peace.

There was no doubt that Wheeljack understood fully the dark realities of the world he lived in... perhaps he dealt with the pain by simply ignoring it, by pretending that the wreckers were still in their prime, that heroism was still as simple as victory over the decepticons... maybe that was why he never liked to stay in one place for too long.

Suddenly, Ratchet almost felt bad about his snarky remarks and glanced toward the wrecker briefly, wondering if he had understood that he was being sarcastic... surely, he must have. Wheeljack was nothing if not withdrawn, and there was a good chance that he would not have let Ratchet even touch his ship if he didn't trust him.

After a moment, the wrecker looked up at him, noticing the medic's pensive stare.

"... What?"

Ratchet turned back toward the ship, cutting some wires that had fused together.

"Nothing..."

The two worked in relative silence for some time, speaking only about the task at hand, and only when it was necessary. Still, Ratchet's mind wandered as he did this, somehow always coming back to Wheeljack. Was he really as antisocial as he made himself out to be? He certainly seemed to isolate himself from others, but evidence also showed otherwise. He chose to escape Cybertron with Arcee, after all.

Ratchet felt something on his hand, and he looked to find a small drop of water on the back of it. It was then that he noticed the similar droplets strewn across some of the metal paneling, and beginning to soak into the packed soil. He looked over toward the wrecker just as thunder rolled in the distance, and Wheeljack stood up, stretching his arms.

"Well, I don't want to get corroded. Come on."

He gestured to Ratchet with a subtle jerk of his head, and stepped into his ship. The medic followed, finding the wrecker taking the pilot's seat. Ratchet sat down beside him, looking up at the glass as the rain already started to pick up.

"Aren't all of your engine parts going to get corroded instead?"

"Eh. They've been through worse."

That much was likely true. The view through the glass was soon distorted as large drops coalesced and streaked down across the screen. The light sound of drops striking the hull grew slightly louder as the rain rolled in, and the two mechs merely sat in the quiet, just listening to the sound and watching the rain. Ratchet's aura was thoroughly contented for once, but as he glanced over at the wrecker, he found him sitting with his arms folded across his chest, his aura ever so slightly somber, his eyes seeming to stare into infinity. After a moment, the wrecker noticed Ratchet's gaze, and turned to look at him.

"Hmm?"

"... Nothing."

Wheeljack stared at him for a few moments.

"You sure?" he asked.

"What?"

"... You like staring at me or something?"

"Am I not allowed to look in your general direction now?"

"... No, I just... hmm."

Wheeljack stared out into the distance again, and Ratchet let out an annoyed sigh.

"See, this is where I want to know what has you of all people being deep in thought, but apparently I'm not allowed to look at you."

Several moments went by, but the wrecker didn't respond, leaving only the sound of the rain to reply. Ratchet threw up his hands, looking away in aggravation. After another minute, Wheeljack finally spoke again.

"Maybe you've noticed, but I'm not too good at the whole 'talking about your feelings' thing."

"Fortunately for you, I don't want to talk about your feelings."

"You just said you wanted to know what I was thinking about."

"I just wanted to know why you're sulking. I don't need details."

The wrecker glanced over at Ratchet for a second, then looked back out the window.

"The way I see it... if the war's over, I have no purpose."

The air went silent again, save for the soft sounds of the rain outside and the winds pushing against the ship.

"... I see," the medic muttered. After a moment, however, he looked back toward Wheeljack and spoke again.

"Couldn't you put your... mechanical skills to good use?"

"Sure," the wrecker replied, "but most of my ideas involve making weapons. Like your welding torch thing, you could easily make that into a flamethrower."

"My-..."

Ratchet shifted his arm into the torch he mentioned, and he stared at it for a moment.

"This? Why would you want to make this into a flamethrower?"

Wheeljack's eyes practically lit up in response, and he couldn't hide the smirk that started to appear on his face.

"The question is, why wouldn't you want to make it into a flamethrower?"

Ratchet merely stared at him in response, unable to come up with a good answer to that. The wrecker turned slightly toward the medic as he continued.

"Look, all you'd really need is a way to atomize additional energon, and I have spare fuel injectors."

Ratchet finally let out a quiet sigh.

"And check valves."

"Of course. I have those too."

With that, Wheeljack got up, stepping across all the various objects that had been strewn across the floor, starting to put some back in cabinets, collecting others in one hand. The medic watched him for a moment before speaking.

"Wheeljack, what would I even do with a flamethrower?"

"Burn stuff, obviously."

"Well, yes, but-"

The wrecker turned to face him, holding up a hand as he smiled.

"Look, don't question the logic until you've burnt a lot of grass. Now help me find where all my tubing went."

Ratchet let out a hint of a laugh, hesitating before getting up as well.

Really, Wheeljack had been right. Once the necessary parts had been found from the clutter, it was little more than a few minutes before they'd made what was essentially an energon sprayer, taking energon from a small reserve and distributing it into a fine mist. And, sure enough, when this mist was ignited, it burst into a respectable plume of fire that charred the grasses around the Jackhammer.

Ratchet and Wheeljack stood outside in the rain, the wrecker turning over their simple contraption in his hands.

"See? Now we just have to attach this to your arm."

"Normally," the medic replied, "I would reject any idea of yours simply because it's your idea... but in this case you have the supervision of a trained professional."

"When it comes to setting things on fire, aren't I the professional?"

Ratchet let out a short but hearty laugh, turning one hand back into his welding torch and holding out his other. Wheeljack handed him the device, and already the components of his welding torch began to move and shift. As he held it to his arm, pieces began to blend together, shifting place and enveloping the simple contraption entirely. Finally, these pieces started to compress down, settling back into the form of his welding torch, but with a notable addition to one side.

Ratchet seemed to inspect this for a moment, turning over his hand to look at the other side. He switched on the pilot light with a distinct pop, then tested the torch itself.

"Well," he said with apparent satisfaction, "at least it didn't mess anything up."

Wheeljack said nothing, merely staring at him expectantly, arms crossed. The medic looked toward him, his eyes narrowing.

"You're suspiciously excited about this."

"I've actually wanted to try this for a long time."

"... Dare I ask how long you've been fantasizing about weaponizing me?"

"... Yeah, don't ask. I'll be honest though, I never brought it up 'cause I always assumed you'd shoot down the idea immediately."

"I probably should have."

"Primus, just try it already!"

Ratchet sighed, shaking his head for a second as he turned away from the wrecker and his ship, holding out his arm and finally activating the device. Almost immediately, he turned his face away, given that a plume of fire erupted from his arm, setting a rather large swath of grass on fire and leaving a cloud of steam and fog in its wake. He looked back at the smoldering grass for a moment, then turned to Wheeljack as the wrecker stepped toward him and spoke.

"Now you could be a wrecker," he said.

"I don't have the impulsivity."

"No, but now you have an unnecessarily dangerous improvised weapon, and that's just as good."

The medic looked at his arm again, then seemed to realize something.

"We need to run some tests now."

"... What kind of tests?"

Ratchet couldn't help but smile.

"Science tests."

Outside Sanctuary Fortress, Arcee walked beside Knockout along the bridge spanning the chasm between the Fortress and the other areas. She wasn't exactly sure why he'd wanted to show her the area, but after redoing her paint scheme, he mentioned something about walking helping her back to heal properly, and so had insisted on coming here. To be fair, he wasn't nearly as annoying as she thought he'd be, although he did talk about as much as Cliffjumper, and was similarly tiring to be around.

He stopped, placing his hands on the bridge's railing and looking over the edge.

"Apparently this is the tallest canyon on Aether. I told them about the sonic canyons on Cybertron and they didn't believe me, at least until I showed them some maps."

"And who's 'they'?"

"Uhh, I-Kul and... R-Srs? R-Sch? I forget her name. I-Kul's the Sentinel of this area, but she's... remarkably dull. A real Soundwave type."

"Oh."

Knockout looked over the edge again, finding the chasm below fading away into shadow.

"I guess there's only a couple months out of the year when sunlight can actually reach the bottom."

"Huh."

After a minute, Arcee looked up, hearing footsteps approaching, and found Ratchet and Wheeljack walking toward them. Upon seeing her new colors, however, Ratchet stopped, followed by the wrecker.

Knockout's judgement had been right. With only a minor change in color, she'd gone from a simple dark blue to a mesmerizing, deep electric blue, and her accents had gone from pale pink to a rich, vibrant magenta. The two colors clashed, but did so in a way that somehow complimented each other and made them each stand out more.

As the two stared at her, Arcee's aura began to burn with slight embarrassment from the sudden attention focused on her.

"Yeah... I know... color change and all that."

"You needed it," Knockout muttered.

"I like it," Ratchet said. "You look good."

Arcee stared at him for a second, genuinely surprised by the positivity of his response.

"... Where have you been all day?" she asked.

Ratchet and Wheeljack glanced at each other, and the former let out a short laugh.

"I was helping him fix his ship."

"Then," Wheeljack continued, "we did an... experiment, of sorts."

"So now we need to run some tests."

Arcee glanced suspiciously between the two for a minute.

"Why do I get the sense that I don't want to know any details?"

Ratchet let out a short laugh in response.

"It's confidential, anyway."

With that, he started off toward Sanctuary Fortress, and Wheeljack followed soon after.

After a minute, Arcee turned to Knockout with something of a blank, stunned, confused look on her face, her aura only echoing this.

"That was weird... right?"

Knockout looked back at the other two for a moment, then back to the warrior.

"I hardly know Wheeljack at all, but... I've never seen Ratchet even remotely happy about anything. I just assumed it was due to him being stuck with a bunch of decepticons, but..."

"No, he's like that with us, too."

"Oh..."

"I thought they hated each other..."

Knockout started to smirk.

"Suddenly I'd really like to know what kind of experiment they got into."

"You... you made that sound either ominous or just... wrong."

"'Ominous' and 'wrong' are my favorite types of experiments."

Arcee stared at him blankly for a moment.

"And here I was just beginning to tolerate you."

Chapter Text

 Once again, Megatron found himself within Sanctuary Fortress, standing before the containment cell that held the two pirate prisoners. Xaphin sat next to the energy field, leaning against the wall as he spoke.

"Yeah, I think the pirates are done with the Dasha sector. We've just had too many failures here."

"So," U-Mos replied, "you're abandoning Tallon IV too?"

"I think so. The geothermal power stations there were nice, and we did get a buttload of phazon there, but... I mean, Metroid Prime alone was a nightmare. You see this here?"

Xaphin lifted up his leg, turning it to show a spot where his exoskeleton, rather than being smooth and even, was covered in ripples and discolorations.

"She used some sort of magnet pulse or something, just ripped a nova cannon right off the wall and ate it."

Megatron's expression turned incredulous.

"She... ate it?"

"You don't get it, metroids like her can... they adapt to any weapon, organic or mechanical. She ate this nova cannon, and must have absorbed it or something because within seconds she fired this nova blast right at my leg. Caused the chitin in my exoskeleton to melt, if that says anything."

U-Mos gestured to him as he spoke.

"Having been attacked by Metroid Prime and lived... that's not a feat many pirates can brag about."

"Yeah, I know. That..."

He looked down at the floor for a few moments.

"That kind of made me wonder why I even do this at all."

"And just think," the other pirate said from the bed on the other side of the chamber, "That now she's the one controlling you."

"Yeah..." Xaphin muttered. "That's what I don't get... we spent years trying to get Metroid Prime to work for us, to be some sort of weapon, then she evolves or whatever and suddenly we have a new leader." Vaichl, the second pirate, finally looked over at him, his face unreadable.

"I don't like it either, but I trust the great Mother's judgement."

"You really think she has some plan for Dark Samus?"

"I believe she does have our interests in mind, and if Dark Samus has a use to us, then she'll pursue that use."

U-Mos interjected after a moment.

"How much do you know about what Mother Brain is planning?"

"Not much," Xaphin said. "Neither of us have ever even seen her, let alone spoken to her. We only can go off of whatever rumors float around."

Vaichl turned his face away as he muttered to himself.

"And I don't trust the rumors of Science Team. Bunch of self-important weaklings, that lot."

Xaphin turned to Megatron and U-Mos, shrugging.

"So... I hate to ask..."

U-Mos closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

"Soon now. I still need to figure out how releasing you will even work."

Megatron stared down at the Sentinel, but said nothing, leaving U-Mos to continue a second later

"Even if the decepticons disagree with this."

"Honestly, I don't blame you," Xaphin said. The gladiator looked down at him instead, and the pirate continued.

"You have no reason to care about our wellbeing. We're just kinda... pieces that got left behind."

"Don't say that..." U-Mos muttered. "At the very least, you are still living beings with a right to freedom."

"Freedom? When have I ever had freedom in my life?"

The Sentinel and the pirate seemed to lock eyes for a moment, and Megatron gazed between the two, trying to figure out what was going on within the depth of their silent stare. Finally, U-Mos turned to the gladiator.

"We should discuss this, shouldn't we?"

"I believe you know my position already."

"Still."

Megatron let out a sigh, and he started to walk out of the room, followed by U-Mos.

Despite suggesting they discuss the situation, neither one spoke as they started to make their way out of the Fortress. Megatron kept his aura close, not wanting to give away anything he was thinking, although that effort might have been futile given that he was walking beside the most powerful psychic on the planet. Just as he was about to speak, he looked over at the Sentinel and noticed that he was glancing around the room, seeming to check if anyone was around. The air was quiet, though not silent, as U-Mos finally turned to the gladiator.

"Megatron."

"I can't let you release the-"

"I think I can help you."

"-prisoners... what?"

"I think I can help you. You suffer from... visions sometimes, yes?"

Megatron hardened his aura almost reflexively, and he stared off into space, trying not to think about it. In his silence, U-Mos looked away, speaking in a quiet, calm voice.

"Over time I've started to be able to read your kind more easily. I know you've had... issues in the past, but only now am I starting to be able to truly understand what's been happening to you. Unicron left... pieces of himself behind... yes?"

Megatron could only stare blankly at him for a moment, though he seemed to snap out of it, shaking his head momentarily.

"How-... yes. It's usually not a problem anymore unless I'm reminded of it, which you are kindly doing... why?"

"Like I said, I think I might be able to help you."

"And how could you help me more than I've already managed to improve on my own?"

"I don't want to promise too much, because I have no idea if this would work... but I think I could give you a more permanent solution."

As much as he tried to hide it, Megatron's aura flared with a mix of emotions suddenly. He tensed up somewhat, glancing away from the Sentinel, suddenly glad that he'd taken the liberty of making sure no one else was around.

"What exactly are you... suggesting?"

This time, it was the Sentinel who tensed up. He held his hands close to him as he spoke, floating away from him slightly.

"So... I've told you about the Ing. They were able to possess almost any creature they came into contact with, even us. Some of us, however, had learned how to resist their attempts to control us."

U-Mos turned to face Megatron for a moment.

"It's a... strange skill, usually only possible by those with great psychic power."

"I'm assuming you have this skill?"

"Yes. And as I look at you... I can see that what Unicron is doing is actually very similar to possession, or at least the attempt at possession. What I want to do... is see if I can teach you possession resistance."

"He's not trying to control me. Only to torment me. I fail to see how this helps."

U-Mos looked down at the floor, fidgeting with his hands as he clearly hesitated to speak.

"I... ask that you keep this between us, but... I am in a similar situation, though, by my own choice."

"What... do you..."

"I told you that the Ing were led by their emperor, right?"

"Yes. Then he was killed."

"Well... not... exactly. I..."

The sentinel's antennae folded back as he let out a horrible sigh, as though he was letting out his very composure as he did so.

"Please, I am entrusting you to keep this secret; you don't know the full implications of this, but... Emperor Ing tried to possess me once, and... I let him."

Megatron perked up at this.

"Are you still being controlled by him now?"

"No. I let him possess me, knowing I could hold him back. But rather than expelling him from my mind, I... trapped him in it."

"... Why?"

"Having the powers of the Emperor Ing has given me some advantages. I wouldn't have been able to banish Dark Samus were it not for this."

U-Mos turned to face Megatron, his eyes suddenly determined.

"But every day, he claws at me, trying to break out of his prison. I've learned to effectively keep him at bay, to control what he can do, and I think if you learn to do the same, you could keep Unicron from ever tormenting you again."

The gladiator looked away, lost in thought for a minute. Finally, he looked back at the Sentinel.

"Alright."

"I don't want to be promising you false hope though. I have no idea if this will work. It will take time, and... you will have to let me into your mind, which means..."

"If you were willing to entrust me with your secrets, then it is only fair that I entrust you with mine."

The Sentinel nodded slowly, and for a moment, the two simply stood and floated in silence. After a minute, Megatron spoke.

"... Well?"

"Hm?"

"Were you going to... do anything?"

"Oh..."

U-Mos glanced around the room once more, reaching out a hand and, with hardly a gesture, locking the doors on the other side of the room before turning to the gladiator.

"This room is safe enough. If you are ready, I just want to see what exactly is afflicting you for now."

"This will not be the first time other people have delved into my mind, you know."

"Right. I forget. But this may be different."

"Why would it be any different?"

U-Mos floated over toward him, smiling.

"I don't know."

With that, he reached out to hold Megatron's head in his hands, and almost instantly, the world faded away.

His mind raced even faster than he could keep up with; pictures from long ago mixed with landscapes from Aether, parts of the Nemesis flashed by, but twisted and distorted from what it was supposed to be. He felt like he was falling, hardly able to move, let alone figure out what exactly was going on. Momentarily, he saw Starscream in all his silver glory, sunlight reflecting off of the curves in his waist as he floated, seemingly weightless. As the seeker turned his head to look toward him, however, his eyes turned black, and he screamed, emitting a horrid, unnatural shriek. The light began to fade as the seeker's chest split open and something forced its way out of him. Black legs scrambled and clawed their way out, looking like a spider shedding its skin, only in panic. The form that began to emerge was hardly visible in the dimming light; though he could hear Starscream's own voice crying out among the otherworldly sounds, as though he was somehow still alive.

This wasn't real. None of it was real. And yet...

Megatron tried to ignore the chorus of screams echoing in his head, trying desperately to focus on his own memories, to possibly conjure something more calming.

In return, he seemed to get a memory that wasn't his own.

The shroud of darkness that clouded his vision started to abate. Tendrils of black began to recede, letting some light seep through as they reached toward him instead, grabbing onto him, leaving a sickening cold in their wake. He looked down at himself, finding himself being enveloped by the tendrils, and he desperately tried not to let panic set in. He closed his eyes, trying to pull away from them or fight somehow, but they tightened their grip on him, covering every inch of his body. Just as he looked around again, starting to see that he was somewhere in Torvus, the black tendrils started to close in on him, burrowing into his armor, seeping into his blood. A horrible cold numbness began to sweep over him, and he realized that he was no longer in control of himself.

This wasn't real. This isn't real. Just try to relax. It'll be over soon...

He didn't so much look around him, as he was shown by the force that controlled him. He recognized the room from Torvus, though it was a corrupted, poisoned version of what he remembered. Where he knew there to be clear water, now there was a thick, dark purple liquid, smelling like decay. The air itself was heavy with humidity and spores, and the sky was a somber red.

"You... what are you?"

He turned, finding Unicron standing before him, and his mind went blank. The destroyer stepped toward him, and fear began to worm its way into him. He knew this was all in his head, but this he knew was actually the being that lived within his mind, out of his control. He tried to move, to run, to fly away, but his body was numb, taken over by the darkness that had clawed its way out of Starscream.

Oh Primus, this was real, wasn't it?

Unicron glanced toward him, then pointed one arm toward him.

"I believe I asked you a question. You are not from Cybertron. What are you?"

In an instant, the dark entity that held him ripped itself from him, feeling as though it was tearing out his insides in the process. Megatron let out a cry of agony as his own chest broke apart with a sickening crack, allowing the mass of tendrils to fly from him and instead latch onto Unicron.

He collapsed to the ground, paralyzed in pain, but was able to see as even the destroyer struggled against the poison, writhing and scrambling to try and get it off of him. Some of the black tendrils began to wither, turning gray and breaking apart, but as these fell, others seemed to emerge, soon covering him, too.

"No!" Unicron shouted. His voice seemed to supersede the air and the world around him, thundering through the ground itself, sending cracks through the rocks around him. Megatron slowly looked down at himself, holding a hand to the gaping hole torn in his chest, finding that, rather than energon, he was bleeding the same sickly purple poison that filled the pool below. He looked at his hand, now covered in the substance, finding that it had the consistency of mud.

He glanced back over at Unicron, his form growing in size, becoming obscured by the mass of writhing flesh that tried to suffocate him. From the chaos, one of his arms burst through, breaking the tentacles apart like glass. Then, with a roar, he smashed it back down, crushing some of the tendrils beneath his weight, leaving them as little more than a pile of gray sand. Slowly, this gray sand started to turn purple, coalescing together and oozing away, dripping off of the destroyer's arm and off of the platform he rested upon.

Megatron could only lay there as pain started to give way to numbness again, watching as the tendrils that had so easily controlled him slowly began to seep into Unicron's armor as well. The destroyer's voice once again broke the ground apart, causing the ledge that Megatron laid upon to give way, sending the gladiator tumbling helplessly down toward the pool below. He tried to move, but soon found himself thrown onto it, looking up at the destroyer as he began to sink ever so slowly into the thick poison. It seeped into his armor like a hideous tepid slime, swallowing him whole. He watched as, finally, the last of the tendrils disappeared into Unicron's armor, turning him to a sickly gray. Still, he was very much alive, as evidenced by the sheer amount of power that wafted off of him like hot air off a dark surface in the sun. Rage and confusion and vengeance and a sense of looming death all began to emanate from whatever entity was now in control of Unicron's body.

Slowly, however, Megatron sank into the toxic pool, the substance pouring into his mouth and starting to suffocate him.

It tasted like decay too. It would have been utterly sickening if he had any feeling left. Finally, he felt his consciousness starting to fade, just as the poison swallowed him beneath the surface.

U-Mos let go of him, and he opened his eyes, taking a sharp gasp of air as he fell to his hands and knees, retching and throwing up energon only a moment later. The taste of rotting flesh still lingered in his mouth, leaving him gagging and coughing and gasping for air. He looked up at U-Mos, finding him floating motionless, clutching his head in his hands, his body tense and trembling. The gladiator let his head hang down, just trying to catch his breath.

Finally, as his breathing started to slow, the Sentinel floated down to the floor beside him, holding a hand to his shoulder.

"I'm... sorry about that. I didn't think... are you okay?"

With that, Megatron held a hand to his chest, finding it unharmed. He let himself fall over to one side, his body finally relaxing some. He stared up at U-Mos, trying to speak, but unable to even think of what to say. In response, the Sentinel let out a sigh, somehow managing to create a dismayed, shamed aura around him.

"I didn't think that... I'm so sorry. I had no idea what to expect. That was Emperor Ing trying to escape my mind by going to yours. At the very least, I was able to figure out more of what's going on."

Megatron continued to just stare at him, unable to speak. Even the Sentinel's words hardly registered in his mind given the chaos of what had just happened. After a moment, however, he pushed himself up off the floor to at least sit upright, though he soon held his hands to his head, considering the throbbing pain that ensued. Nonetheless, U-Mos continued.

"Those fragments of Unicron are, indeed, trying something very similar to possession, so I think resistance could help you... assuming you ever want me to do that again... I... will understand if-"

"Fragments? More than one?"

"Six, to be exact. I'm not sure how one person can leave six copies of himself behind, but they're all distinct. Are you... still... wanting to continue with this?"

Megatron finally looked toward U-Mos.

"If it means I can stop things like that from happening... then yes. But... not now."

"Of course."

"Give me a few days... or weeks."

"Yes, I understand. Hopefully... nothing will be quite that bad."

Slowly, Megatron lifted his weight up off the ground, getting back to his feet. Silently, he sent a message to Soundwave.

[Bridge me to my quarters.]

[I can't generate portals within the inner part of Sanctuary Fortress. You'll have to at least move to the outer edges.]

Megatron looked back down at U-Mos for a second, who gave him a brief nod as the doors unlocked, and the gladiator trudged off toward the main entrance. The halls were relatively quiet, though some were filled with the rhythmic hum of machinery. As he turned a corner, however, he noticed Ratchet and Wheeljack talking further down the corridor. As he approached, the wrecker was first to notice him, leading Ratchet to turn to face him a moment later, holding one of his arms behind him.

"... What?" Ratchet asked. Megatron glanced toward the arm he was hiding for a brief moment.

"What are you hiding?"

"Nothing."

Wheeljack started laughing quietly, and Megatron gazed toward him instead, then noticing that the floor behind them had scorch marks on it.

"Have you been... setting things on fire?"

The two answered at almost the same time.

"Yes."

"No."

They looked at each other, and Ratchet, still holding his arm behind him, let out a short laugh.

"I don't have to tell him anything."

"Sure," Wheeljack replied, "but I want to tell him about it."

"I want this to be a surprise."

"For who, exactly?"

"Look," Megatron interjected, holding up a hand, "whatever nonsense you're doing... I don't care."

He stepped past them, continuing down the corridor, holding a hand to his head briefly.

He had no idea what exactly he needed... but for the moment he just wanted to get to his quarters.

Chapter Text

U-Mos had been true to his word, and so it was only a few days later that several of the decepticons once again met in Sanctuary in front of the prisoners' cell. Megatron and Starscream stood off in one corner of the room, seemingly sharing each other's aggravation as they watched U-Mos deactivate the cell's containment field. Soundwave stood to one side, J-Syr floating next to him with her arms crossed.
U-Mos stared down at the two pirates, his antennae drifting back.

"I am willing to grant you your freedom, but no more than this. You will have to find your own way back if you wish to leave."

Megatron interjected in turn. "But know that if we find you in our domain, we will not hesitate to kill you on sight."

"Good to hear," Vaichl replied. "But you... you know we're just going to go right back to attacking you, right?"

Starscream glared down at him, crossing his arms and turning his face up in disgust.

"Oh, we know."

Megatron, sharing the seeker's loathsome aura, continued.

"The only reason I'm willing to allow the luminoth to release you is that I value the alliance we have with them more than I value your death."

Xaphin met the gladiator's gaze, but said nothing. Soundwave glanced over at Megatron, whose red eyes shone through the shadow he stood in, returning his stare. It was like he and Starscream filled the very air with pure hatred, and he knew that if they had the opportunity to strangle the two pirates with their bare hands, they would do so in a second.

U-Mos seemed almost oblivious of this, though Soundwave knew that was far from the truth. The Sentinel and J-Syr merely floated, exuding tranquility to the two pirates as they finally stepped from their cell.

"I've never understood you luminoth," Xaphin said, "But I'm thankful you didn't kill me, at least."

U-Mos seemed as though he was about to speak, but J-Syr started before he could.

"We merely operate with different rules than you. I don't believe either of you deserve to die."

"Well," Starscream spat, "That makes one of us."

J-Syr looked back at him, seemingly dismayed, but said nothing. Finally, U-Mos gestured to the pirates.

"I can keep you here no longer. You may go."

Without another word, the two began to walk down the hallway toward the door. The room was silent, all eyes watching as they left. Just as they reached the open door, however, a familiar click echoed through the hall, followed by a fiery blast that struck one of the pirates, throwing him violently into the door frame and tossing the other through. Both slumped to the ground, the pirate that had hit the wall soon oozing blood from his head.

All eyes turned to the source of the blast; to Starscream, who lowered his outstretched arm. U-Mos, in particular, seemed stunned for a moment.

"What did you... what did you do!?"

He threw his hand forward, lifting the seeker up off the ground. Starscream seemed to try to pry his way out of the Sentinel's psychic grasp, but instead shouted back.

"I did what you were too weak to do!"

U-Mos's eyes widened, suddenly filled with rage, and he swung his arm, sending the seeker flying backward, slamming into the back wall and sliding down to the floor. Megatron drew his blade, stepping in front of Starscream with a defensive stance. J-Syr, with hardly a second of hesitation, held her hands to a pendant she wore, and from it extended metallic armor that quickly enveloped her. She drew a large hammer from her back and floated beside her mate, holding it at the ready. Soundwave, in turn, did little more than draw the resonance blaster and hold his arm toward the two luminoth. This caught J-Syr's attention, and she glanced back at him through the shroud of her armor's visor.

The air turned tense in the silence that followed, until it was broken by a quiet groaning. Soundwave glanced over, finding Xaphin stumbling to his feet, seemingly dazed. J-Syr looked over at him, too, watching as he dragged himself to the other pirate's side. Finally, as Starscream got to his own feet, he muttered quietly.

"So now you resort to taking action..."

U-Mos's voice was filled with an anger Soundwave had never heard from him before; not even when he was fighting Dark Samus herself.

"I've been nothing but accommodating and generous to you, and the one time I ask something of you in return, this is how you respond?"

Starscream hardly seemed fazed, staring back at the Sentinel with a disapproving stare as he replied.

"I'm only trying to save you from yourselves... your pacifism has put you at risk before, but I'm not willing to let it put us at risk."

"This is the luminoth's domain, you fool. You have no right to tell me what to do here."

"The fool is the one who's willing to let his own enemies go so they can come right back and attack him again. Even Megatron agrees with me. He just won't admit it."

"Is this true?"

The Sentinel turned his stare to Megatron, who merely raised his head, remaining silent. The gladiator still stood between him and Starscream, though, still holding a posture in which he could strike at any moment. U-Mos looked back toward the seeker, his eyes still burning with rage.

"See?" Starscream said. "It's for your own good."

Something seemed to click in U-Mos. He tensed up, raising his arm again. Megatron reared his arm back, ready to strike in response, until something caught his attention. Flecks of purple had begun to coalesce in the Sentinel's eyes, like iridescence revealing another color. Just as J-Syr reached over and grabbed U-Mos's arm to pull it aside, Megatron relaxed slightly, realizing what was happening. Noticing this, U-Mos, too, started to relax, as though Megatron's stare had snapped him out of it. He glanced over at J-Syr as the purple washed away from his eyes, and he lowered his hand. In response, the gladiator withdrew his weapon, prompting Soundwave to do the same.

It was, without a doubt, Emperor Ing's rage he'd seen in the Sentinel; the same entity that had tried to pry its way into his mind, tried to consume him and break him apart from the inside. He froze, staring at U-Mos, suddenly finding himself paralyzed with fear. He knew, inherently, that the force that had so viciously terrorized him just days prior was only a part of the creature that U-Mos held prisoner. Only that single piece of Emperor Ing, that single insidious appendage that had wormed its way into him, was full of such unbridled rage, such horrific power and chaotic fury that it was only rivaled by Unicron himself. And yet, what sort of nightmarish prison could keep such a being contained? How was U-Mos able to combat something so horrid and remain in control?

Clearly, he wasn't. Emperor Ing, in a moment of weakness, had been able to overpower the Sentinel, and, for a brief moment, find his way out.

U-Mos looked back at Starscream, his mood darkening once more.

"You. Get out of my sight."

The seeker groaned slightly, but turned on his heels and walked out of the room. Soundwave turned his attention to the pirates, finding Xaphin merely standing beside his dead comrade. U-Mos and J-Syr turned to face him, and U-Mos let out a sigh.

"Now the question is... what will become of you?"

The Sentinel turned toward Megatron this time, but still kept his gaze toward the pirates.

"What will you do? How can I trust you now?"

After a moment of silence, U-Mos looked toward the gladiator again, finding him staring back at him, wide-eyed and frozen.

U-Mos was no Sentinel at all, was he? He had been possessed by Emperor Ing. He had to be. There was no way he was able to keep such a thing contained. And based on what he had seen during his glimpse of the thing, it had cemented a piece of itself in his own mind, too. It had overpowered the fragments of Unicron...

Suddenly he felt it clawing at him again. His chest tightened, like it was about to break its way out once more. He took a sharp breath, holding a hand to his neck as it started to suffocate him all over again. Soundwave rushed to his side, asking him what was wrong, but it hardly registered as he kept his stare locked on U-Mos, knowing this was all his doing. The air seemed heavy and thick, starting to taste like death and decay. He fell to his hands and knees, coughing violently in between frantic gasps for air before finally purging energon once more. U-Mos floated over to him, placing a hand on Megatron's head. Immediately, he tensed up, his hands clenching into fists as his eyes started to roll back in his head. After only a second of this, however, the gladiator went limp, slumping to the floor, unconscious.

Soundwave, kneeling at Megatron's side, almost immediately reached toward U-Mos with his cables, being deterred by a psychic barrier that surrounded him. J-Syr looked toward the Sentinel, dropping her hammer entirely.

"What did you do!?"

"Relax, both of you. I just put him to sleep."

"Why? What even happened? Is he okay?"

"He's fine. Or, he will be, at least."

"How do you know?"

U-Mos let out a sigh.

"I'm trying to teach him possession resistance. Or, at least, I want to start."

"And you messed him up!?"

"J-Syr... I love you, but shut up for a minute. I want to teach him possession resistance because he's had pieces of Unicron stuck in his mind trying to basically possess him. He let me into his mind just so I could see what I was dealing with... and it didn't end up great. I think he was just reliving that for some reason."

Shockwave ran into the room, immediately kneeling down beside Megatron. Soundwave stared up at U-Mos, and it was clear that the Sentinel could feel the distrust wafting from his aura, as could J-Syr. The scientist started to lift Megatron up off the floor, and Soundwave got to his feet.

"I swear to you," U-Mos said, "I meant him no harm."

Soundwave, naturally, did not respond, merely following Shockwave out of the room. As they left, however, U-Mos looked back to find Xaphin sitting back in his open cell, facing away from the Sentinel.

For at least a day following this, no decepticons were even allowed into Sanctuary. No one quite knew what exactly to do, leaving the situation to linger and stagnate. Megatron didn't even speak to U-Mos at all until a day later, when the latter showed up at the Alterium's lounge. The gladiator had merely been staring out at the foliage, sparkling in the sunlight following an afternoon rain, when U-Mos floated into the room. Megatron turned his head slightly, but didn't look back. Hearing no footsteps, he gazed back outside as he spoke.

"I think you, of all people, can understand my... hesitance at interacting with you again."

U-Mos lowered himself to the floor and stepped up to the window beside Megatron, letting out a sigh.

"I still want to help you. You know that, right?"

"Oh, I believe you want to. I'm just not sure that you are."

"This is a process, you understand. It will take time. It will not be easy."

Megatron remained silent for a moment before responding.

"How can I... be sure that you're in control of yourself?"

"So that's what you saw? You looked at me and saw Emperor Ing?"

"Shouldn't a psychic be able to tell?"

"Your kind is sometimes shrouded to me. And you in particular are like... it's like trying to focus on a reflection in a pond, and then your vision is obscured entirely when the surface ripples. I know that I am not perfect. I know that sometimes he starts to take over. But I have never lost control. I think J-Syr of all people would know immediately if I did."

Megatron still refused to look away from the garden beyond as he spoke.

"All I know is that whatever you did to me... that thing is in my head now."

"Emperor Ing? I... doubt that very much. What I would believe, though, is that... maybe one of those fragments of Unicron is acting like him. Maybe he saw how you reacted to him and is trying to emulate him now."

"And what difference does that make? In either case, you've... poisoned my mind."

"Well... in that case, I'm sorry. But like I said, I still think I can help you."

Megatron had no response, and so U-Mos continued after a pensive sigh.

"But... first..."

"Xaphin."

"Yes... He's refused to leave Sanctuary until he can get some assurance that he won't be killed."

Megatron finally turned to the Sentinel, looking down at him with a determined stare.

"And I can't possibly give him that assurance. He doesn't deserve it."

"So you do agree with Starscream?"

"Yes, I do. But I also meant what I said about valuing our alliance enough to refrain from taking action. That, however, is no longer an option."

"Did you know Starscream was going to kill him?"

The gladiator stared back out at the view for a moment before responding, choosing his words carefully.

"No. However... I do believe he was acting on my behalf."

U-Mos tilted his head in curiosity, and so Megatron continued.

"Obviously, I represent the decepticons, so if I had killed him, it would have been a much more blatant affront to our alliance. Yet, allowing the space pirates to return to their kin unharmed would be just as blatant an affront to us... by which I mean both decepticons and luminoth. Our past struggles have had such high costs that so easily forgiving two stranded pirates is like forgiving all of them. And to do that would be to wipe away the very struggles that we have given our lives for. It would downplay the atrocities they've inflicted on us.

I believe Starscream killed that pirate because he felt the same way, and he knew that I could not do it. He knew that Soundwave would never go against my orders so blatantly. So he was the only one that could. He was trying to solve both problems at once."

U-Mos lifted himself a few feet off the ground, holding his hands behind him, seeming lost in thought for a moment.

"I had not thought about it that way. But the issue that remains isn't about our combined suffering so much as it is about the fact that Starscream's actions were just as much of an affront to our alliance as they would have been had it been you instead."

"I understand that. But he was acting in our mutual interests."

"Honestly, I don't really care."

Megatron glanced over at U-Mos, somewhat surprised by the bluntness of this statement. Just as he did so, however, Starscream stepped through the doors, hands held behind him, his posture attentive, but relaxed.

"We were just discussing you," U-Mos said.

"I assumed as much."

"I presume you're here to defend your actions as well."

"Well, yes and no."

Starscream met Megatron's gaze for a brief instant as their auras started to mingle, the gladiator's remaining steadfast as usual, the seeker's prodding with curiosity. U-Mos lifted himself to the others' eye level as he spoke.

"What you did was an awful transgression of the alliance we've built. As such, I'm not exactly receptive to your defenses right now."

"Well, luckily for you, I think I may have a way for all of us to settle for a compromise."

"A compromise between murdering a defenseless zebesian and sparing him is not much of a compromise."

"Even if it would allow him to be released without anyone finding it immoral?"

U-Mos still seemed hostile, staring the seeker down with a concerned expression. Megatron finally spoke in his stead.

"Tell us, Starscream, what your idea is, then."

The seeker straightened his posture a bit as he responded.

"It's not just the release of the pirates that we disagree with. It's the fact that we have gained nothing from them so far, and that, by releasing them, we'd be giving the pirates an advantage instead. All I suggest is a balance of that advantage. I believe Xaphin had said in a prior conversation that he still had access to the pirates' network. If that's true, all we would need is a... marginal amount of intel, and I believe that Megatron and myself would both feel far more willing to let him go unharmed."

Starscream glanced toward the gladiator, whose eyes alone signaled his approval. The two then turned to U-Mos, his face unreadable. After a minute of thought, the Sentinel finally spoke again.

"So you wish to set a price for his freedom."

"The decepticons get potentially valuable intelligence, and the luminoth get to release the remaining prisoner without issue. Everybody wins."

"I have no qualms with this... but it's not really up to me. You'd have to ask Xaphin. And, after what you did, I'm not exactly keen on letting you near him again."

"Understandable."

U-Mos turned to Megatron.

"So it falls to you. Will you be alright?"

"I have no way of knowing."

"Huh? What happened?" Starscream asked.

"Nothing that concerns you."

Megatron glared at the seeker somewhat, then turned his gaze to U-Mos.

Before long, Megatron, Soundwave, and U-Mos made their way back to Sanctuary one more time. Xaphin, now once again enclosed in his cell, merely laid in his bed, facing away from the group until their footsteps approached. He rolled over to look toward them, then, noticing Megatron in particular, moved to sit up.

"Fuck, no, not this again," he muttered. U-Mos let out a sigh, holding a hand to his head.

"I know that what little trust you had has been shattered... but the decepticons have found a condition under which they will allow you to leave unharmed."

"Forgive me if I'm not thrilled by that proposition..."

Megatron knelt down in front of the containment field separating them.

"Do you still have access to the pirates' network?"

Xaphin seemed to think for a moment, glancing around the room before getting up and grabbing an object from a nearby shelf and holding it in his hands. A small screen on the object lit up, and he started to speak.

"You wouldn't know it, but that's sort of a vague question. The pirates don't exactly consolidate things. There's separate networks for communications, mission reports, scientific shit... lots of stuff, and they grant access individually. But they haven't seemed to register me as dead yet, so yeah, I guess I still have some access."

"Good. All we ask to ensure your safe release is information. Whatever you might be able to procure that can prove useful to us."

Xaphin froze, then stared up at Megatron.

"You... you want intel?"

"A small price, I think, for allowing you to carry on with the rest of your life."

The pirate stared down at his device again, his expression, as foreign as the face of a zebesian was, turning visibly dismayed as he spoke.

"You don't know what you're asking of me..."

"It is only a fair trade. Nothing more."

"No, you don't get it. If I give you intel on us... I can't go back. They trace that shit. They'd know I gave you intel, and they'd kill me for treachery. But if I don't and I try to leave, you'll kill me instead. I die either way. I die a prisoner, or I die a traitor. What the fuck kind of a choice is that?"

Megatron let out a sigh, looking away for a minute, lost in thought. U-Mos floated forward, holding a hand to the containment field.

"Is there anything you know that wouldn't require accessing the network?"

"How am I supposed to even know what would be helpful? I'm just a security guy. I couldn't tell you much about our ships, our machinery..."

"Weapons?" Megatron asked. Xaphin seemed to pause.

"I mean, I do know about a bunch of our weapons, but you already have phazon weaponry. What is it you want?"

Megatron looked away for a moment.

"What is it you want? You don't sound as though you're open to divulging anything."

"Well, no. Of course not. You wouldn't be, either."

"Even in exchange for your freedom?"

"I never had any freedom to begin with. I wouldn't really be gaining a damn thing. That's what..."

The pirate let out a sigh as he turned away.

"You've managed to put me in a position where no option is great. On the one hand, I can stay here, which isn't appealing. But my other option involves betraying the pirates just so that I can go back to being a meaningless pawn for them. In a way, you guys are valuing my life more than they do."

U-Mos' antennae lifted up as he spoke, his voice quiet and soothing.

"You don't have to go back to them, you know."

Xaphin looked back at him, staring for some time, lost in thought. Megatron glanced back at Soundwave for a moment before, finally, the zebesian spoke once more.

"You know what... fuck it. You're right."

He looked back to his device, interacting with it momentarily before holding it toward Megatron. There was some hint of determination in his eyes as he continued.

"Here. Take my communicator. Take all of it. Anything I have access to, it's yours."

U-Mos deactivated the containment field, and Xaphin stepped forward, reaching out to place the device in the gladiator's much larger hand. Megatron stared at it for a second before looking back toward the zebesian.

"Why? What will you do?"

"I don't know, but I'm not going back. They'll label me as a traitor, but... unless I run into them somewhere, they won't bother to do anything but shut off my network access."

U-Mos tilted his head.

"So... you're just going to leave everything you've known? Where will you go?"

"Vho? Daiban? I don't know, but I sort of just now realized that my whole life up until now has sucked. I'd just never really thought about leaving."

Megatron handed the communicator to Soundwave, who gave a nod to Xaphin before walking out of the room. The gladiator watched him leave, then stood up, gazing down at the zebesian.

"Whatever you choose to do now... I will not stop you."

"But how do you intend to leave Aether?" U-Mos asked. The zebesian seemed to think for a moment before looking back up at the Sentinel.

"Do you know if the base at Agon is still there?"

"Surely it is, but I doubt they left any working ships behind."

"No, but I could maybe contact someone."

"In that case, we can certainly help you get there. Light of Aether guide you..."

With that, Megatron finally turned and left. Whatever the outcome, he'd gotten what he'd come for.

Chapter Text

"Wait, so... he just left? Just like that?"

Ratchet sat in the Alterium lounge across from Megatron, bathing in the late morning sunlight. The gladiator, his finish almost sparkling in the glow, took a sip from a glass of high grade before responding.

"I can't imagine he made that choice on a whim. I'd guess it was something he'd been thinking about for some time, whether he realized it or not."

Unlike most previous discussions of theirs, they were far from the only people in the room. Starscream, for instance, stood behind the gladiator's chair, resting his hands on his shoulders, occasionally massaging his armor with gentle touches. Soundwave, cradling a passed-out Aftershock in his cables, also lingered nearby, though he kept himself out of the sunlight. Typhoon, on the other hand, was content to merely sit on an empty storage crate behind Megatron and Ratchet, but she still made it a point to place herself in the sun, letting her immaculately polished armor gleam with all its beauty.

Ratchet went silent for a minute before speaking again.

"What kind of information did you get?"

Megatron glanced over toward Soundwave, who responded in his stead.

[I haven't been able to go through everything yet, but there's schematics on multiple types of weapons and ships, power armor, and other machines. The report logs may be more useful, though. In just a brief scan, I found multiple references to Mother Brain.]

"Ah," Ratchet said, "maybe there will be something that helps us learn what exactly she's up to..."

Megatron tilted his head as he looked back toward the medic.

"Interesting."

"Huh?"

"I would have thought that, disagreeing with the circumstances under which this information was procured, you would have objected to its use."

"Well, I mean... if we have that intel, there's no reason not to use it."

"But autobots have refrained from using many things that would have benefitted them, on account of those things being immoral or such."

Ratchet seemed to think for a moment before replying.

"We broke most of those rules on earth out of desperation, but I think intel was always the exception."

"Perhaps. But do you think that if Optimus had come across a piece of information that had been gained through torture, he would really have put it to use?"

"Well... I burned a vehicon's face until he told me where you were, and Optimus insisted I was out of line, so... I guess not."

Megatron, having been mid-drink when hearing this, abruptly stopped himself before turning to Ratchet.

"You did what?"

"Uhh..."

The door opened, and Wheeljack stepped through. He glanced around at the amount of people gathered in the lounge, then stepped over toward Ratchet, casting a suspicious glance toward Megatron as he did so.

"So," he said, "you hang out with Megatron now?"

The gladiator laughed briefly.

"Only for the purposes of arguing about moral philosophy."

"Sounds fun..."

The wrecker moved a nearby chair next to Ratchet's and sat down, his aura withdrawn as he gazed toward Megatron. The gladiator, on the other hand, exuded tranquility as he gestured to Ratchet.

"So then, tell me, if the autobots did not permit the use of the cortical psychic patch to gain information, how would they gather intel?"

Soundwave responded by playing a recording of Optimus.

["Tell us what Megatron is attempting to build, before we are forced to rely upon less civil methods of interrogation."]

The gladiator looked over at Soundwave briefly, seeming surprised.

"Hah! Impressive! I wouldn't have thought he had it in him."

"Well," Ratchet muttered, "We never ended up backing up that threat."

"Still, I'm surprised Optimus would even have considered such a thing."

Typhoon chimed in.

"Wait, so the autobots banned the use of the cortical psychic patch, but were okay with torture? That seems backwards."

"Okay with torture," Starscream said, "but scoffed at the idea of trade."

Ratchet gestured toward the seeker with his nearly empty glass.

"Don't forget that I fixed you up more than once in exchange for information."

"Yes, but that was your decision. You're an exception to the autobot rules. Optimus would never have entertained the idea."

"He did, remember? And I don't think he would have gotten a call for help from a decepticon and just left them there to die. Take Breakdown, for instance."

"Hmm, true."

"So," Megatron replied, "the autobots are only willing to trade when the cost already aligns with their values, is that it?"

Starscream leaned forward, letting his arms drape across the gladiator's chest, resting his head upon his shoulder.

"Oh, it can't possibly be that simple. We are discussing the autobots, after all."

Wheeljack finally interjected, his aura gaining a touch of annoyance.

"So is this what you all do now? You criticize Optimus after he's dead?"

"No," Ratchet replied, "most of the time I'm telling Megatron why he's awful."

The gladiator smirked.

"I can vouch for this."

"For you being awful?"

"I never claimed to be a pillar of moral superiority."

Ratchet finished the last of his high grade, setting the empty glass down on the table beside him and gazing out the window. Starscream, meanwhile, moved to bury his face in the side of Megatron's neck. The gladiator held a hand to one of Starscream's as he closed his eyes, letting his head drift to the side, further exposing his neck. Wheeljack, looking on with a sort of morbid curiosity, finally spoke.

"Aren't you worried he's going to try to kill you?"

"Hm?" Starscream muttered, perking up. "No, that's harmless. This, on the other hand..."

He locked his fingers into place as he held them up to Megatron's neck. With hardly a second of hesitation, however, the gladiator grabbed Starscream's arm and pulled it sharply downward, sending the seeker toppling over the back of the chair and tumbling to the floor. Wheeljack let out a short laugh, which was soon followed by a displeased whine from Aftershock, having been startled awake by the sound. Soundwave held a hand to gently stroke along the side of her head as she wriggled in his grasp, turning to bury herself in his armor as much as she could.

Starscream, rather than getting up, merely remained sitting on the floor, leaning back against one side of the chair Megatron sat in.

"Way to ruin a nice moment," he muttered.

The door opened again, but this time it was Arcee and Knockout who stepped through. The warrior glanced around at the various decepticons and insecticons lingering in the room before noticing Ratchet and Megatron, at which point her expression turned to one of suspicion. She stepped beside Ratchet, crossing her arms.

"What's going on here?"

Starscream answered, muttering quietly as he stared out the window.

"Nothing anymore."

"What was going on here?"

Wheeljack gained a subtle smirk as he responded, gesturing to Megatron and Starscream with a subtle nod of his head.

"Well, for one thing, they were getting all touchy."

Arcee merely rolled her eyes. Knockout, too, stepped into the sunlight, his flawless finish practically glowing. Ratchet glanced between him and Arcee before speaking.

"What were you doing?"

"Walking," Arcee said.

"With Knockout?"

"You know, if I remember right, we asked you what you and Wheeljack were doing, and you didn't tell us and then walked off laughing like it was some sort of inside joke."

Megatron perked up upon hearing this.

"That's true. They refused to tell me what had them so enthralled."

"Well," Wheeljack replied, "you did say you didn't care."

"I wasn't in the right frame of mind at the time to deal with whatever you were doing."

"We were just doing some experiments," Ratchet said. "Nothing more."

The gladiator looked back at him.

"Then why was the floor behind you scorched?"

"Uhh, because it was exposed to fire? That seems obvious enough."

Megatron's eyes narrowed, and Starscream gained a hint of a devious smile. Knockout let out a short laugh.

"Now I'm curious. That sounds like my kind of experiment."

Arcee chimed in a moment later.

"Aren't you supposed to be fixing Wheeljack's ship so we can leave?"

"Yeah, but it gets tiring," the wrecker replied.

Ratchet let out a groan before responding.

"It wouldn't be taking as long if you weren't so stubborn about it."

"Really?" Arcee said incredulously. "You're surprised by that? Have you met him?"

"Good point."

"Why so eager to leave?" Typhoon chimed. "Haven't you had enough fun here so far?"

"Actually, yes," Arcee said, "I've had exactly as much fun as I expected."

Knockout crossed his arms.

"You're not leaving until we can get that brace off you."

"I know, I know."

Starscream, refusing to look in Arcee's general direction, finally spoke.

"You know, I was told that you dragged me out of that cave, but I don't remember a thing."

"It wasn't great. You're not missing much."

The group looked over as Aftershock, having fully woken up, let out a cheerful sound as she reached down toward the ground. Soundwave let her down in response, and the scorpling merely stood there for a moment, gnawing on her fingers and twisting idly back and forth as she looked between each of the mechs gazing back at her. Finally, she looked back up at Soundwave. After a second, he glanced back at her, but said nothing.

"Can I go?" she mumbled finally. Soundwave responded with merely a nod, and Aftershock meandered over toward the group, looking between the various mechs, then went up to Starscream, grabbing one of his hands and starting to fidget with his fingers. The seeker pulled his hand back, his aura turning confused.

"What? What do you want?"

Aftershock let out a short laugh before darting over toward Knockout, who seemed all too eager to kneel down and wrap her up in an embrace when she approached.

"So," Arcee said, turning to the other two autobots. "How long do you think it'll take to get the ship fixed?"

Ratchet and Wheeljack briefly glanced at each other before the wrecker answered.

"It's going to take some time. Even with help. It's not so much the physical damage, but the fact that a lot of the wiring got completely melted."

Soundwave watched as Knockout started playing with Aftershock; grabbing her tail when she wasn't looking, effectively getting her to chase her own tail. He couldn't help but smile beneath his visor, but he glanced back at the autobots, and that joy immediately began to vanish. He hesitated, but finally sent a message.

[Shockwave and I have dealt extensively with repairing electrical systems on ships...]

Wheeljack didn't even look at him.

"That's great, but I don't remember asking."

This time Soundwave sent a message to Ratchet exclusively.

[Is this what you meant by him being stubborn?]

"Yes," he sighed, "I told him Shockwave could help, but he won't listen, although that's not necessarily new or surprising."

"I told you I don't trust 'cons with my ship," Wheeljack said. "I don't think I really need to explain myself further."

Arcee glanced back at the wrecker.

"While I don't disagree with that... it would get us out of here faster."

Knockout, having been holding onto Aftershock's hands, abruptly looked back toward the autobots, his aura, though out of anyone's reach but Soundwave's, turning ever so slightly offended.

"So you entrust me with your health, but wouldn't trust me to fix your ship?"

"No, you're different," Arcee replied. "You're..."

It took her a moment to realize that it was Cliffjumper he reminded her of, and not just in color. Knockout was certainly far more vain, but Cliffjumper did have a certain flair for the dramatic that Knockout shared. He talked about as much as her fallen partner, yet was still calming to be around somehow. She thought she had been tolerating Knockout on account of him being a former autobot, but now...

Considering she hadn't finished her statement, Starscream did so instead.

"A traitor?"

Knockout let out a short laugh.

"Aren't you one to talk?"

"I've never joined the autobots."

"But you've sure helped them out at every possible turn."

"As a trade, you idiot."

Arcee, withdrawing her aura and holding her arms close to her, turned to walk out of the room without another word. The other two autobots watched her leave, but neither one went to follow her, knowing full well she wouldn't readily divulge what troubled her so.

Chapter Text

Arcee sat in Temple Grounds some time later, resting at the edge of a cliff overlooking the swamps of Torvus off in the distance. The sky was mostly clear; the blue canvas above interrupted by only a few smooth, wispy clouds. The warrior closed her eyes, letting the warm spring breeze brush across her face.

She heard footsteps approaching behind her, and looked to find Knockout. As the red figure moved to sit alongside her on the cliff's edge, she turned her face away, sounding almost exasperated as she spoke.

"What are you doing here?"

"I figured if the other autobots weren't going to see if you were okay, someone eventually had to."

"None of us are really into talking about our feelings."

"What, and you think that's a trait common among decepticons?"

Arcee turned to face Knockout, her voice stern as ever.

"Why are you being nice to me, Knockout?"

The medic seemed surprised by this, his aura almost turning offended.

"What, is basic decency still dead? I can be indecent if you want me to be... Ahh, that came out wrong..."

"You've been pretty much following me for the past few days."

"I thought you enjoyed my company."

"I never said I didn't."

"So what's the issue?"

"Don't you have plenty of other people you could be talking to?"

"Sure," Knockout said, shrugging.

"So why me?"

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, staring at the warrior as he thought through his answer. His eyes narrowed as he responded.

"Are you wanting me to confess some sort of thinly-veiled attraction toward you? Because that's not it. If I was interested in you, you'd know it."

Arcee, somewhat taken aback by this, glanced away from him, holding her knees to her chest as she gazed out at the terrain in the distance.

"I... wasn't thinking that, but that's good to know, I guess."

"If we're being honest, though," Knockout said after a moment, "I will admit that you've reminded me a lot of Breakdown."

The warrior perked up, staring back at him, but saying nothing. Knockout's aura turned slightly defensive, and he ever so slightly leaned away from her.

"What?" he asked. "It's nothing weird..."

"No, it's just..."

Arcee took a deep breath before continuing.

"I was just thinking that you reminded me of Cliffjumper, actually."

"I'm... afraid I don't know who that is..."

"He was..."

The warrior looked out at the scenery again, tensing up slightly.

"He was my partner, ever since we first got to Earth."

"Oh. 'Partner' as in... conjunx?"

"No, but I would have considered it. Why? You and Breakdown weren't... were you?"

"We were, actually."

"Really?"

"I know it never seemed like it."

Arcee actually turned herself to face him slightly, unconsciously letting her aura radiate outward.

"If you don't mind my asking, how did he... I mean, before Silas-..."

"Megatron wanted to get rid of Airachnid, so he sent Dreadwing and Breakdown. She killed him, and I guess that's when those fleshies found his body. Next thing I know, Silas shows up, inhabiting his corpse like the parasite he is."

"Airachnid killed my first partner, you know. She tortured me, made me watch him die... I've wanted her dead for ages now."

"Well, you can rest easy. I think."

"What? What happened? She's not still in that pod, is she?"

"No, that... is quite the story, actually."

Arcee relaxed somewhat as Knockout continued.

"So after the fiasco with Silas inhabiting my conjunx and using that satellite, I kept him around to experiment on. I was playing around with synthetic energon, trying to complete the formula when Starscream had the brilliant idea to combine it with dark energon. The result was, uhh... You ever see any human horror movies?"

"Not really. It was Miko's thing so I never paid much attention."

"Oh. Well basically, it caused him to burn through his own energon reserves, so he fed on the energon from other vehicons, infecting them so they did the same thing..."

"Oh."

"Mhm. So vampire zombie Silas woke Airachnid up, who then killed him and immediately tried to mind-control the insecticons against us until Soundwave sent all of them to one of Cybertron's moons."

"So that's why I never saw her again."

"Yup."

"Are you sure she's dead though?"

"No, but Soundwave seemed to think she had gotten infected. If that's true, she probably wouldn't have lasted long."

Arcee looked away for a moment, lost in thought.

"Serves her right. Starving to death on a barren moon... I can live with that."

"Yeah, I knew she was trouble the moment I saw her. Breakdown was... strangely interested in her, though."

"Really? I can't... possibly imagine why."

"I don't know either, but she must have worked some sort of magic on Megatron as well, because he trusted her way more than he should have."

"Well... he keeps Starscream around, so I don't really find that surprising."

"Mm, good point."

Arcee gazed back out at the scenery beyond, going silent for a moment.

"You know... I don't think any of the others really... understood what Cliff meant to me. They all knew him, they all felt that loss too, just... not in the same way."

For once in his life, Knockout stayed silent, his aura having rapidly shifted from amicable contentedness to a horrible despair he pulled inward, trying to hide from the warrior. He seemed lost in thought for a minute, but finally muttered as he stared out into the distance.

"At least the other autobots liked Cliffjumper. When Breakdown died, not only did no one know how much it affected me, no one even cared. I had to just... pretend like it meant nothing. I never really had the chance to-..."

He buried his face in his hands, his aura starting to burn with the emptiness he felt. Arcee merely stared at him, part of her trying to avoid facing the loss she knew she felt as well, another part almost relieved that she'd managed to find someone who understood it. She reached out a hand toward Knockout, but stopped herself and looked away.

That was exactly it. That was what had eaten away at her for years now. It wasn't the fact that Cliffjumper was gone, it was that she'd been forced to hide the pain it caused her, quietly trying to pretend that his death didn't mean as much to her as it did.

She glanced over at Knockout again, finding herself somewhat humbled by the depth of raw emotion his aura showed her, knowing it was very likely something he'd never shared with another spark before. After a moment, she reached toward him again, and placed a hand on his shoulder. The medic briefly looked up at this, glancing at her for a moment, but soon gazed back out at the scenery beyond.

For whatever reason, they were the only people who understood each other's pain.

Within the Alterium, Soundwave and Shockwave sat on either side of a small table, Shockwave resting his hand on it. A few panels on his hand had been removed, revealing the delicate, compact components beneath. Soundwave worked in silence, gradually removing bits of corrosion from parts of his hand, cleaning the joints therein of the various pieces of debris they had accrued over time, reapplying oil to them, and tightening them. It was something Shockwave had been unable to do himself for obvious reasons, but it was fortunately not something that needed to be done often. Soundwave had a gentle touch, caressing his hand where it remained intact, but avoiding points where highly sensitive nodes were exposed. Ages ago, before he ever knew what kind of person Soundwave was, he wouldn't have expected such a thing. He would have expected him to be swift in his work but uncaring about whatever discomfort he may have caused. Perhaps it was because of the nature of their relationship now. He couldn't see Soundwave being quite the same way with Megatron, though it wasn't like the gladiator needed anyone else to help him with his hands the way Shockwave did.

The two sat in silence as Soundwave worked, both watching the delicate task before them. The scientist's aura radiated a subtle, affectionate warmth, and he looked into the dark shroud of Soundwave's visor.

"I think I may have accidentally triggered another insecticon heat cycle."

Soundwave froze, then looked up at him, silently prompting him to elaborate.

"I've been trying to isolate what exactly triggers it... and in the process I think I triggered a second one. They're... not happy about that."

[How regularly is that supposed to happen?]

Shockwave's aura flared slightly, and Soundwave knew immediately that he'd asked the very question the scientist most wanted him to.

"It's generally annual, but there have been some interesting caveats to this. On Cybertron, these would occur at different times throughout the year for each hive, but for each it would repeat annually. This only occurs in well-established groups, though, so this current melded group of insecticons did not have any such heat cycles until last year. It has repeated this year, but in accordance with Aether's much longer year length. That is primarily what drove me to investigate the factors that trigger it."

Soundwave continued working on the scientist's hand as he spoke, switching between various fine-pointed tools, being very careful as he gently tapped a small pin back into place. Shockwave seemed to flinch slightly in response, his arm tensing up momentarily.

[Sorry.]

"Anyway, I wanted to figure out why this was the case, especially since prior research on the subject was sparse. I merely talked to them about it, and now they're showing signs of a second heat cycle. Even they don't know why this is happening, but they think it has to do with me."

[But you didn't do anything. Couldn't it just as easily be related to the longer year?]

"I suppose, but for now I can only go off of what they tell me."

[Why are you so interested in the insecticons?]

"No one else is. We know little of them. They're largely misunderstood."

[They never seemed to me to be interested in being understood.]

"Perhaps that in itself is a misunderstanding."

With a swift motion, Soundwave held the scientist's hand in his own, holding it still as he snapped a panel back on. Shockwave pulled his hand back after a moment, turning it over, stretching out his fingers and curling them up into a fist several times.

"Thank you," he muttered.

Soundwave reached forward, grabbing his hand again, but this time he merely held it, tracing his fingers across the glowing design in Shockwave's palm.

[You have unreasonably pretty hands.]

"Hand."

[Right. I still wonder why you haven't bothered to find a more practical replacement.]

"It doesn't impact me as much as you would think."

[You say right after I finish doing an hour of your maintenance for you.]

Soundwave turned the scientist's hand over, gently pulling along his fingers, then moving to interlace his own between them and holding onto his hand. Shockwave looked back up at him as he spoke.

"I think my ability to speak on your behalf creates an equitable trade."

Soundwave didn't respond. After a second, he took the scientist's hand again, but this time pulled it toward him, lifting up his visor slightly and moving to kiss it. Shockwave turned his hand to hold the side of his face, gazing into the glass that still hid it from his view. He slowly moved his hand to drift alongside Soundwave's face, trying to picture what was underneath based solely on what he could feel. Soundwave still held onto his hand, his grip growing ever so slightly tense until the scientist finally pulled it back.

"It seems odd that my touching your face is the most intimate contact we've had so far."

Soundwave looked away, redoing the latches on his visor as his aura withdrew somewhat, growing ever so slightly nervous... almost regretful. Noticing this, the scientist went silent for a moment, and the two just sat there in the quiet until he spoke again.

"Why is it so... personal to you?"

Soundwave didn't have any response to this, either. He didn't move, but his aura shifted slightly, turning from a vague sense of shame to a defensive wall that seemed to separate them.

"I'm not judging you," Shockwave said. "I was just curious."

Soundwave's aura softened somewhat, though he still looked away.

[It's my identity. It's who I am. Underneath is... the person I used to be.]

"I suppose there is logic in that."

The two went silent again for a minute until Soundwave sent the scientist a message.

[Shall we go?]

With this, they headed west, through a groundbridge leading to an open forest filled with thin, spindly trees that allowed the sun to reach the ground. Grass and blooming wildflowers carpeted the floor, and Soundwave and Shockwave tried not to trample too much of the plant life as they walked. The sound of rushing water grew louder as they went, until they reached their destination.

A decent-sized log cabin stood on the edge of the forest, itself resting near the edge of a cliff. Below, the ocean stretched out to the horizon, calm waves sparkling in the sun. The sound of voices caught Soundwave's attention, and he started off toward a stone staircase that led down the cliff wall. Shockwave followed, and the two found that below was a sandy beach dotted with large rocks. R-Nal sat upon one, seeming to simply stare out at the ocean as his two children, C-Nal and K-Nal, dug into the sand, Aftershock running over to them from the water, carrying a small bucket with her. R-Nal looked over as Soundwave and Shockwave approached, though he soon gazed back at the children, his voice quiet and calm.

"I hope saltwater doesn't cause damage to you guys. They went in the water before I could really do anything about it."

Aftershock looked up, noticing her parents standing by the cliff wall, but her attention quickly turned back to the luminoth digging beside her, and she soon joined them. Shockwave didn't even look at R-Nal as he replied.

"She will need to bathe when she comes back, but it should not cause damage."

The three went silent as they watched their children. After a moment, Shockwave glanced down at the sand, scooping some up in his hand.

"I had forgotten," he muttered, "about Agon's water-soluble sand."

"Oh yeah..." R-Nal replied. "That got formed by very different processes, obviously, but the end result looks really similar, doesn't it?"

As the kids went from digging in the sand to forming a mound of it instead, K-Nal carefully scooped up a handful of wet sand and turned to place it gently atop his sister's head. Almost immediately, the girl shook her head and brushed the sand off of her, her voice difficult to make out over the sound of the ocean, but by its tone, it was clear she was upset by this. Aftershock soon followed, scooping up some sand and forming it into a ball and placing it on C-Nal's head. In response, the girl turned to the scorpling and threw her hands forward, creating a shockwave that sent Aftershock flying backward across the shore and plummeting into the sea. R-Nal immediately shot up, rushing over to his daughter.

"Hey! What did I tell you about your powers?"

C-Nal's antennae folded back against her head as she responded, her voice clearly distressed.

"They started it!"

"I know, but you could hurt them."

"They were being mean to me!"

"Your brother is a jerk, yes."

"Hey!" K-Nal shouted. "What did I do?"

R-Nal looked back toward Soundwave and Shockwave, seemingly surprised that they hadn't moved at all.

"You're not... worried about Aftershock?"

"No," Shockwave replied.

The luminoth seemed unsure of how to react to this. He looked back out at the ocean, where there was still no sign of the scorpling, before turning back to the decepticons.

"But... don't cybertronians need to breathe?"

"We can go up to several hours without access to air."

"O...Okay, but..."

He gazed back out at the ocean, as did the luminoth children. Almost a minute went by without any sign of the scorpling before R-Nal turned back to the decepticons.

"Primus, she's three years old! She got thrown into the ocean! Go get her!"

Soundwave and Shockwave glanced at each other, neither one wanting to be the one to go into the water to get her. Just as Soundwave was about to concede, however, a sound drew their attention, and they looked over to find Aftershock stumbling out of the water, falling to her hands and knees and crawling across the sand as she started coughing. R-Nal started to make his way over to her when a wave crashed upon the shore, knocking the scorpling over and temporarily obscuring her beneath the water once more. As the wave receded, she started coughing again, her voice sounding increasingly distressed as she trudged up the shore, climbing to her feet and running over toward her parents. She grabbed onto Soundwave, her aura tense and fearful, her voice matching as she spoke in between coughing fits.

"I don't like it there..."

Soundwave held a hand to Aftershock's head, immediately noticing how cold she had become just from that short time underwater.

[You are fine.]

She didn't seem to react to this, but rather continued clinging desperately to him. R-Nal looked back at his daughter.

"See," he said, "you could really hurt someone if you throw them like that every time they're mean to you."

Shockwave glanced down at the scorpling.

"This is as good a time as any to take her back to Torvus."

"Wait," R-Nal said, walking toward them. "I'm sorry about that. I'm not psychic, so I don't really know how to go about teaching C-Nal to control herself. My wife would have been good at that but... I guess I'll have to find someone else."

"Cybertronians are more durable than they appear. Aftershock will be fine."

"Poor thing."

Hearing this, the scorpling glanced up at R-Nal, her antennae perking up ever so slightly, though she still clung to Soundwave.

Back in the Alterium, Soundwave carried Aftershock in his cables, immediately taking her to his chambers while the scientist returned to the lab. She glanced around as they went, silently wondering where Soundwave was taking her, at least until he stepped through a doorway and set her down beside an empty oil basin. She let out a quiet whine as she realized what this meant. Soundwave reached over, gently pulling a lever, prompting clear, yellow-tinted oil to begin pouring into the basin from a small broken pipe emerging from the side. After a moment, he looked down at Aftershock, her aura radiating dejection, and lowered himself to the floor beside her.

[What is it?]

Aftershock averted her gaze, watching the bath fill up.

"I don't want to," she mumbled.

[Saltwater is very corrosive. It's important to prevent corrosion from happening in the first place.]

"I'm cold..."

Soundwave reached up, flipping a switch on the wall, turning on a heating element that warmed the incoming oil. Aftershock still seemed dismayed, though, and Soundwave merely stared at her for a moment before reaching over to hold one of her hands in his own. Her aura relaxed ever so slightly, and she momentarily gazed into Soundwave's visor before looking away again.

The room itself was rather small and cramped, given that it was originally just a storage space. After all, this wasn't something most decepticons had in their personal quarters. This was still a ship, at the end of the day, and providing the luxury of private oil baths to everyone would have required an obscene amount of space they simply couldn't afford.

However, raising a child was another story entirely, and was the sole reason Soundwave had this unit installed here.

Once Aftershock finally submerged herself in the oil, her mood started to soften. Perhaps it was simply due to the inviting warmth, but Soundwave could tell that her mind finally started to drift away from what had been bothering her. She was still unhappy, of course, but it had turned to a general malaise that gradually gave way to tiredness. Thus, when Soundwave lifted her out and wrapped her in a towel, her aura was simply blank with fatigue. He stared into her purple eyes for a moment, smiling beneath his visor. He lifted her up again and carried her out of the room, keeping her wrapped up in her towel as he laid her down on his bed and sat down next to her.

"I'm not tired," she muttered.

Soundwave reached over to pet her along the side of her head as she pulled the towel more tightly around her.

[Yes you are.]

Slowly, Aftershock shifted her weight, closing her eyes and appearing to fall asleep. Soundwave slowly got up, but stayed in the room, instead moving to work at the makeshift terminal he had built in the corner. He glanced back at her for a moment, watching as her tail twitched slightly, then relaxed again, and returned to his work.

Chapter Text

Megatron stepped through a groundbridge portal, finding on the other side an arid plain stretching out to the horizon. He glanced around as the portal closed behind him, wondering why, of all the scenic places on Aether U-Mos could have picked, he chose this area, with nothing but sand and dry grasses.

Moments later, another groundbridge portal opened, and the Sentinel floated through, glancing around at the landscape around him, his eyes alone signalling his satisfaction with the location he'd chosen.

"Here?" Megatron asked. "Why here..."

U-Mos floated up into the air, holding out his arms as he spun around, gesturing to the wide expanse before them.

"This place is perfect to start with. You wouldn't know it, though."

"I'm already regretting my decision to come here."

"No, please, listen..."

U-Mos drifted slightly toward Megatron, though for the moment he still kept a bit of distance between them as he spoke.

"I have managed to teach other luminoth to resist possession, but they were all powerful psychics to begin with. I've never tried to teach any sort of psychic ability to anyone who didn't already demonstrate themselves to be psychic. Most of the time, that sort of thing just doesn't work."

"What makes you believe I'm an exception to this?"

"Nothing, really, but it's still worth a try."

Megatron's aura calmed somewhat in response, and U-Mos continued.

"I had to figure out a way to boil down the complexity of possession resistance into a form you could easily grasp, and I think I figured out how to do that."

"What does this have to do with bringing me to a wasteland?"

U-Mos held his hands together for a moment, his wings drifting behind him.

"Possession, in concept, is simple. One entity invading the mind of another. Dominance. Control. A predator capturing its prey. Possession resistance, then, should be similarly simple. Fortification. Stamina. Willpower. But if I asked Shockwave how possession works, he would not be able to answer. The brain is only tangible. How can one brain force another into doing anything? The intangible is how. The realm of consciousness is infinite, unbound by the laws of reality-"

"I assume you have a point?"

U-Mos gazed into the gladiator's eyes, and Megatron for a moment swore he felt the world itself ripple in the Sentinel's presence.

"Yes, and I'll just tell you right now that you won't get very far if you maintain this impatience and pragmatism."

Megatron's aura flashed with annoyance, and for a brief moment he was about to respond with just what that pragmatism had accomplished. He stopped himself, however, and glanced away for a moment, forcing his aura back to the calm it had held before.

"I... apologize..." he muttered, those being words he rarely ever said. "Continue."

"I know this will not be easy for you, for many reasons. But you have to trust me. Anyway...

Possession, in a way, is a battle that never exists, because it lies only within the intangible realm of consciousness. And, despite how it should seem, the possessor does not act as a dominating force so much as one of... stealth.

Picture a fortress. Walls provide protection from the enemy, but also control their movements. Gates allow allies in, and shut to keep enemies out. Towers provide a vantage point to spot potential threats. Even the interior, a maze in itself, provides one last opportunity for invaders to be spotted and removed. The mind works the same way. Everyone has walls and gates protecting the core of their being from intrusion and damage. Normally, these threats are mundane. Words themselves sometimes act as threats in this sense. But possessors are masters of stealth and cunning rather than brute force. They don't attempt to break down the walls of your mind as you would think. Rather, they look for cracks. They look for weaknesses and blind spots, and when they find these, they take advantage of them. A fortress's walls are only as strong as its weakest join, and when a possessing entity finds this weak point, it can find its way in. This is precisely why possession generally feels like you're being taken over from within. Usually these entities find their way deeper into your mind than you realize before you even realize it."

U-Mos took a deep breath and let out a sigh before continuing.

"I promise this all has a point."

Megatron said nothing, merely giving a subtle nod in response.

"So, possession resistance at its core involves fortifying your mental defenses. You have to look inward, find your own weaknesses, and account for them. You have to survey your fortress and try to tear it down. But before this, you have to see this fortress, learn its layout, memorize the shape of every brick in its walls. The image of a fortress may be a metaphor, and it may be intangible, but it is very much a real place within your mind, and the first step is to be able to go there.

This alone may not be the most difficult part of the process, but it will likely take the longest. Looking inward this way can be challenging. You have to expand your consciousness and... minimize it at the same time. This is where we start. And this is why I have chosen this location. Please, sit."

U-Mos lowered himself to the ground, as did Megatron, although the gladiator's aura was still laced with traces of doubt and annoyance. Still, he said nothing, letting U-Mos continue once more.

"Looking into your own consciousness requires something of a separation between your consciousness and your self."

Megatron's expression turned incredulous, but the Sentinel held up a hand before he could even speak.

"I know, it makes no sense. But picture it this way: How can you inspect the outside of your mental fortress if not from the outside?

Introspection of this nature is somewhat basic. Pull your consciousness away from the outside world. Draw yourself inward. Surrender control to your subconscious. It sounds like you could simply achieve this by falling asleep, but dreams are... not quite the same thing. In introspection, you don't lose consciousness so much as you turn its attention inward.

The first part of this is exactly why I chose this location. You first have to pull your consciousness away from the world around you. Acknowledge distractions, but don't succumb to them. Hear your senses but ignore them. Here, there is almost nothing to distract you."

"Ah. So it is the emptiness here that made you pick it."

"Precisely. Now..."

U-Mos drifted slightly toward the gladiator, holding up a hand. Almost immediately, Megatron's aura hardened, and he almost unconsciously leaned away from the Sentinel, avoiding his touch. U-Mos glanced away before continuing.

"This process of meditation, though, is exactly the kind of state in which your... assailants... can most easily take over. I can keep them at bay while you do this, but... it will be difficult for me to do this and try to guide you without interfering too much. And it will require you to trust me again, which I know you may not be willing to do at the moment."

Megatron was silent for a moment, a whole host of thoughts running through his mind at once. Part of him still wondered if maybe U-Mos wasn't who he seemed at all, but rather a mere puppet of that hideous thing he kept hidden inside him. Still, if doing this possibly meant freedom from the prison of fear these shells of Unicron had trapped him in... it was potentially worth the risk.

The gladiator let out a sigh as he nodded, though he could feel himself tensing up with apprehension despite what he knew he needed to do. U-Mos looked up at him, frozen with his hand outstretched, his eyes watching every twitch in Megatron's posture. He drew slightly closer, though every move he made seemed calculated.

"Close your eyes," he said. Megatron hesitated, not wanting to avert his gaze from the luminoth. After a, moment, however, he did as U-Mos asked, though he started to grow just slightly more tense as a result. The Sentinel's voice grew quiet, still sounding as though it was some distance from him.

"I won't tell you when I'm going to touch you. You have to relax first."

"That is not as simple as you make it sound."

"I know."

"And vulnerability of this sort is not something I enjoy."

"I know. Your hands. Focus on your hands."

Megatron hadn't even realized that he had clenched his hands into fists until U-Mos said this. Suddenly, he noticed the uncomfortable way he had rested his arms across his legs, and started to shift his weight when the Sentinel's soft voice interjected.

"No, don't move. Stay as you are. Notice what's uncomfortable, but try not to act on it."

The air went silent for a minute, and Megatron started to realize how loud the Alterium's background noise was. Here, there was nothing. No faint humming of machinery, no electrical buzzing, no voices... there wasn't even any sound of life or wind. The air around him was a vacuum of silence until U-Mos spoke again.

"Now you can move. Focus on your hands again. Funnel all your tension into your hands."

Gradually, he gripped his hands tighter and tighter, not holding onto anything, but conjuring enough force to where his fingers started to ache.

"Let go."

Slowly, he uncurled his hands, and the aching in his fingers grew stronger for a moment before starting to fade away.

"Let your hands relax completely. Pull your focus away... let them go numb..."

It was strange how U-Mos's voice had changed so dramatically from his normal speaking voice. It seemed like something else had changed aside from him just speaking more quietly. This voice was oddly soothing, having deeper undertones than normal.

"Good... focus on what you feel around you. The ground, the air, the sun."

The sun was quite intense, nor was there any breeze to help dissipate its burning heat. He noticed it on the sides of his arms, on his shoulders...

"Pull your focus back... let these sensations fade..."

For a brief moment, the gladiator wondered if he'd been drugged somehow. This whole thing felt... odd, particularly the way U-Mos seemed to control him with merely his voice.

"I'm doing nothing of the sort."

This hardly registered for a moment, but once it did, Megatron finally opened his eyes, finding that U-Mos had drawn close enough to hold a hand to his head without him even noticing. The Sentinel opened his own eyes, pulling his hand back and floating away slightly.

"See... that wasn't so bad," U-Mos said.

"Aren't you basically possessing me instead? How can I know that you're not influencing what I perceive?"

"I mean... In a way, it is a form of possession, but I try to be very minimal in what I influence as well."

"But how can I know what influence you may be having?"

"Eh... That in itself is a skill you'll have to learn. Being able to know what's real, what's a dream, and what's an image being conjured by another entity can be difficult at times."

U-Mos went quiet for a moment, staring at the gladiator. He tilted his head, and spoke again.

"Oh... you're still worried that I'm being controlled by Emperor Ing... hmm..."

Without another word or any hint of warning, U-Mos reached toward him again. Megatron grabbed at the Sentinel's arm, but it was a futile effort as the world around him already started to shift.

He shut his eyes, desperately trying to avoid another episode of torment like he'd been subjected to before. His body tensed up, and he grabbed at his head, trying to quell the panic that had started to wash over him. The sounds around him, however, were all rather mundane. Luminoth voices spoke around him, he heard some doors open within Sanctuary, the quiet sound of servos... He finally mustered the will to glance around, finding himself standing within Sanctuary, surrounded by several other luminoth that had gathered around a quad robot, watching it as it inspected the area around it and started to walk away. One of the luminoth turned back to look at him, a smile on her face.

"What do you think, Sentinel?"

Megatron glanced down at himself, realizing that, for the moment, he had inhabited U-Mos's body. This must have been a memory of his. Just as he thought this, the memory before him suddenly lost color and detail, starting to blur and fade away.

"There you are," U-Mos said, his voice sounding like it came from inside his own head. "I've never actually pulled anyone into my own mind before, so sorry about that."

"Let me go!" Megatron roared. "Now!"

"I just wanted to show you this. Look."

The gladiator glanced over, finding a large box floating some distance away from him. Within it, the rage and torment of Emperor Ing cried out in desperation. Black tentacles wormed their way out through gaps in the sides of the box, but were stopped by some force that drew them back inside. This entire thing floated between large armatures, their sides glowing with golden light. U-Mos's voice rang out again.

"I don't know how you're interpreting this visually, but whatever you're seeing is the way I keep him prisoner within me."

"Let me go," Megatron said once again.

"You wanted some assurance that I'm not-"

Something snapped. U-Mos abruptly cried out in pain, and Megatron hesitantly opened his eyes, finding himself back in the desert.

He still gripped the Sentinel's arm with all the force of his fear, and slowly started to relax his hand. U-Mos let out an even more pained cry this time, reaching for his arm as Megatron let go of it, finding it crushed by the force of his desperate grip. He pulled his broken arm back, starting to tremble in pain as Megatron glanced at his hand, finding some of the Sentinel's blood on it.

"Call Soundwave," U-Mos said, his voice laced with panic as he cradled his bleeding arm. "I... I'm sorry, I should have- I didn't- agh!"

A groundbridge portal appeared behind the Sentinel, and a couple other luminoth ran through just as U-Mos sank to the ground and dropped to his knees.

Megatron looked back at his hand, staring at the amber colored blood smeared on it, still hardly able to process what just happened, even as the other luminoth ushered U-Mos back through the portal, leaving the gladiator alone.

"You broke his arm?" Starscream asked, sounding a bit stunned himself. The two sat within Megatron's chambers, the gladiator resting on the edge of his bed, the seeker sitting upon a countertop, his legs crossed in such a way as to emphasize their slender beauty.

"I wasn't even aware of it," Megatron replied. "It wasn't even conscious."

"This will certainly do wonders for our pristine relations with the luminoth..."

"Neither incident was my fault, you know."

"Oh? And whose fault is it, then?"

Megatron shook his head, looking away.

"It was accidental... Like I said, I wasn't even aware of how hard I was grabbing his arm until..."

"Mm, just like the time you 'accidentally' bit the side of my neck."

"That occurred under very different circumstances, you know that."

"I do..."

The playful tone with which Starscream had said this made the gladiator roll his eyes as he spoke.

"I'll have you know that you had Soundwave pestering me about that for a full week."

Megatron turned his hand over, glancing at the orange stain that was still there. Starscream noticed this, his aura flaring with disgust.

"Ugh, is that blood? Why haven't you cleaned that off yet?"

Megatron hesitated for a moment before responding.

"It doesn't feel real. This is tangible proof that it is."

"I'm sure U-Mos doesn't need reminding..."

The gladiator glared over at Starscream, who looked down at the floor in response.

"Ah, sorry."

Chapter Text

It didn't feel like it, but weeks gradually started to blur together, and soon, several months had passed since the autobots first arrived. No one seemed to notice, however, considering the steady amount of work that needed to be done between rebuilding Cyprahex and continuing the reconstruction of the Apex, among other things. Systems needed to be maintained, water damage needed to be repaired, buildings needed to be built, and at the center of this was Starscream.

He had originally set up a small mining operation shortly after the decepticons arrived, but this quickly grew into a large-scale steel foundry, and the decepticons weren't the only ones who needed steel. The power structure surrounding the operation had been somewhat awkward for a time, but eventually Starscream was granted full ownership of not just the foundry's operations, but the entire island upon which it rested, though that didn't mean much at the time, considering nothing else was there.

However, the seeker had all too readily returned to the life of capitalism he had loved so much, and thus it did not take long for him to become the single wealthiest person on Aether, a title he cherished despite it having little meaning given the planet's miniscule population. Nonetheless, Starscream was not the type to let such wealth go unflaunted. Rumors had circulated for some time about an opulent mansion of his under construction, but despite the assumption that he had been the one to start those rumors in the first place, no one had any details to speak of. Stonemasons and artisans whose work he contracted had also been sworn to secrecy, something which Megatron in particular had found incredibly suspicious.

As the pirate attack started to fade to mere memory, however, these rumors had started to resurface again, until, finally, Starscream announced that this manor of his was finally completed, and that he would be hosting a gathering there to celebrate it. No one wanted to admit it, but the event was largely seen as a welcome break from the months of rebuilding that had become frustratingly regular for the decepticons.

As such, a rather sizeable group of decepticons and luminoth alike began to gather in a small courtyard in front of a gate leading to a massive white house. Two vehicons stood at either side of the closed gate, two more at the ornate front doors. Megatron stared over at the house, knowing the immaculate landscaping and abstract sculptures placed in front were solely there for Starscream to project his wealth, but his mind refused to let go of the sneaking suspicion that there was something behind it all; that this was some plot to gain power over the decepticons in his stead.

He glanced over as Soundwave and Shockwave approached, and he soon turned to the scientist, his aura turning amused.

"How did Soundwave manage to drag you to this?"

"Blackmail."

The gladiator stared blankly at Shockwave, unsure of how to respond. Soundwave spoke after a moment instead.

[I record everything.]

Megatron stared into Soundwave's visor, hoping that they were just being sarcastic. Though... Shockwave and sarcasm were practically polar opposites. After a second, the scientist glanced over at Soundwave as he spoke.

"If you drink high grade while we're here, though, I will amputate one of your limbs."

[You only hate high grade because you've never had it.]

"I hate it because I had to carry you back to your quarters."

"You've never had high grade?" Megatron asked. Shockwave's unflinching gaze turned to meet his, and the silence within his aura was, even to a gladiator of Kaon, remarkably haunting.

"My Lord... please don't encourage him."

Megatron couldn't hide the hint of a smile from appearing on his face.

"It's really not that bad. Much more extreme things happened in the days of the Kaon arena."

"I know. I was there. I remember setting your dislocated arm back in place after you and Soundwave tried to sneak back into the arena complex by scaling the wall instead of simply using the tunnels. But neither of you remember that because you both had copious amounts of high grade."

Soundwave stared over at the scientist, and Megatron smiled.

"You wouldn't understand the appeal without trying it."

"I have no need to understand the appeal."

"Even for the sake of knowledge?"

Shockwave went silent, and Soundwave stared at him for a moment, then back at Megatron with pure amazement. After a second, the scientist spoke again.

"I have no need."

"Have some sympathy for your partner, at least. You're mad at him for simply enjoying himself."

"At my expense."

"Oh, please. Having to carry him a short distance is hardly a significant expense."

"Please don't encourage him..."

"Soundwave? I don't need to encourage Soundwave. Apparently you're the one that needs encouragement."

"I need no such thing."

"Tell me, Shockwave, is it logical to be this stubborn about something so benign?"

The scientist's aura, try as he might to hide it, flared with a mix of barely-contained emotion. Megatron gazed back at him for a moment with a devious smile, only to be promptly distracted by the gates nearby being opened by the vehicons that had guarded them. Thus, the group all began to head toward the massive building before them, walking along a spotless brick path through a remarkably well-kept lawn, past several large, abstract metal sculptures, some looking like lost artifacts of the Primes, one in particular like the ghostly form of a luminoth spirit with outstretched wings of colored glass dancing with the hollow form of a vehicon. Soundwave stopped in front of it, noticing a small plaque mounted on the base of the statue that read, "To our brethren who fell defending Aether from the Scourge."

The house itself was somewhat intimidating, with an angled construction that drew the eyes up toward a central tower. The tinted windows shone amber in the setting sun, reflecting the group as they approached. The vehicons at either side of the large double doors in front opened the entryway simultaneously, and Megatron rolled his eyes somewhat. Of course Starscream would go to such lengths to dramatize his own house. Though, upon stepping into the foyer, it suddenly didn't seem to be unjustified.

Megatron glanced down at the polished granite floor below him, noticing the way the stone's patterns looked reminiscent of a starry night sky. Reflective silver inlays circled the open room, creating a large, undeniably luminoth pattern of circles radiating from a platform in the center of the room, upon which rested a large, stylized statue vaguely resembling Starscream. From the statue's outstretched hands, clear oil poured out of a small vase, cascading down upon what looked to be Kaon resting beneath him.

Megatron glanced back at Soundwave, his expression alone conveying his amusement at the seeker's undeniable vanity. A voice echoed through the room, and the group looked up toward a balcony above.

"Thank you all for coming..."

Starscream stepped up to the railing above, and the gladiator couldn't help but stare.

Starscream was certainly self-absorbed; no one with half a working brain could deny that, but he also had the tendency to neglect his health, to the point where it often showed. He might have touched up his finish on occasion, but for the most part, he let himself live covered in scrapes and scratches, considering the futility of trying to address all of them at the rate he acquired them.

He clearly had some help, but Starscream had finally taken the time to make himself look presentable, and Primus did it show. Where his armor consisted of dark gray, it had turned darker; a deep, rich slate gray accented with a hint of blue that only shone through when the light hit him at certain angles. His lower legs, for instance, looked dark and solid from the front, but the sides glowed with hints of rich, sapphire blue. But where he had normally had a lighter gray, his finish was now simply mesmerizing. Flecks of metal caught light as he moved, giving him a shimmering silver aura tinted with just a hint of pale blue, like his body itself was made of pure platinum. The red accents across his armor were eye-catching as well, his crest in particular sparkling with dancing light that could only have come from gemstones. The seeker held his hands, now accented with polished brass, together, clearly basking in his own radiant beauty.

"I don't mean for this to be entirely about myself, of course."

Someone let out a short, but condescending laugh in response, and Megatron looked over toward Ratchet, quietly signaling his agreement with the medic's simple gesture. Starscream's shoulders fell as he tilted his head back and let out an annoyed groan. After a second, however, he regained his composure, and turned back to the group gathering below, his wings perking back up as he continued.

"I wish for this... to be a celebration of Aether. Decepticons and luminoth alike have both lived our lives in perpetual conflict, and have never before been afforded the opportunity to see beyond war. I hope that this manor comes to represent the permanency of our alliance, and possibly of Aether as our new homeworld. My home is open to you all, unless otherwise indicated."

Starscream held his arms out, his posture straightening.

"Let us... enjoy this time."

He moved to bow as decepticons and luminoth started to wander off, though Megatron stayed put. As Starscream stood back upright and held his hands together, he met the gladiator's stare. It had been a long time since the seeker looked this good, and both of them knew it. Starscream cast a hint of a devious smile toward Megatron before turning away, letting the fingers of one hand trace softly against the banister as he walked off.

Megatron shut his eyes, trying to clear his thoughts. It felt like that damn seeker was trying to mind control him with nothing more than his body, but it somehow worked. It took a second for him to gather himself and walk off toward one of the connecting wings of the house.

Starscream had many faults, but apparently interior design was not among them. The house was remarkably well color coordinated, with most of the architecture and furnishings limited to red, black, silver, and gold. There were refreshing splashes of color around, however, mostly in forms of modern art hanging on the walls.

As expected, there was high grade provided, and so the gathering soon became divided amongst various rooms, each with a small group lounging within. Starscream had to have been paying a small horde of vehicons, because no matter where you went, there was still someone there handing out refreshments. Eventually, Megatron returned to one particular dimly-lit room which faced a massive aquarium, finding that the autobots had congregated there as well. In one corner of the room was a luminoth who held a small harp in her hands, filling the air with the lovely, soft sounds of gentle music as her fingers danced across the strings. Arcee in particular seemed captivated by her, watching her hands as she played, her aura echoing the music's gentle tone, pulsing at its tempo; at least until catching a glimpse of Megatron. Upon seeing the gladiator, her aura drastically pulled inward, and her posture tensed up somewhat. In response, the other two glanced over toward him, Ratchet seeming the most unfazed of the three, of course. Megatron, having already had a couple glasses of high grade, sat down across from them.

"I'm surprised that two of you are here," he muttered.

"I was bored," Wheeljack said, not even looking at him.

"I feel," Arcee replied, "like I have to keep tabs on them now to make sure they don't get too bored."

The wrecker glanced back at her, gesturing with his glass.

"You try working on a ship every day for months. I love my ship, but I'd give anything to have a good firefight once in a while."

"That can be arranged," the gladiator said.

"Wasn't talking to you."

"Remarkably, I don't particularly care."

Wheeljack glanced over at the gladiator just as Ratchet spoke in his stead.

"Well, we're almost done with the repairs. After that, you'll be free to... blow up forests, or whatever it is you do with your time."

Arcee let out a quiet laugh, though she still gazed into the aquarium as she spoke.

"Those forests were in need of a good grenade."

"Oh, come on," Wheeljack said, "that's not fair. Sometimes I blow up canyons."

Megatron finally chimed in again, not entirely aware of how uninterested the autobots were in talking to him.

"I never quite understood the purpose of the Wreckers. Having a whole group of rogues always seemed dangerously volatile."

"'Dangerously volatile' was exactly the point." Wheeljack replied.

"So that's why you've been setting things on fire in your spare time?"

"Not me."

The wrecker gestured over toward Ratchet, drawing Megatron's attention to him. Ratchet, however, looked away from them, downing the rest of his glass of high grade. After a second, he glanced back toward the two, finding them still staring at him, Megatron with curiosity, Wheeljack with delight. The medic let out an annoyed groan.

"We're inside , you know, I can't demonstrate a flamethrower when we're inside."

Arcee and Megatron responded simultaneously.

"You have a flamethrower?"

Ratchet rolled his eyes, then got up.

"I'm getting another drink."

The medic shuffled off, and the other two turned to Wheeljack, who responded by leaning back in his chair, holding his own near-empty glass of high grade.

"Don't look at me. He's the one with the flamethrower."

"Huh," Arcee muttered. "I knew you were a bad influence, but Ratchet? That's something else."

The wrecker glanced over at her.

"You don't really know him that well, do you?"

"Huh?"

Megatron idly glanced back toward the aquarium, watching odd creatures both large and small swim about, when something caught his attention, and his focus shifted to a room on the other side of the tank, where Starscream stood, holding a small glass of high grade and seemingly talking to several luminoth. After a moment, the seeker seemed to notice he was being watched, and glanced over toward Megatron, locking eyes with the gladiator and returning the stare with a subtle, sly grin.

Maybe he really did need to learn possession resistance, because the way the seeker gazed at him made him shiver slightly, captivated all too easily by Starscream's stunning beauty. It was awfully reminiscent of the night they first met.

Kaon had always been a rugged, hostile place, and not just because of the reputation given to it by the arena. It was a place of industry, of hardened steel and workers who never saw the sun. So, to have found there a politician from Vos was remarkable enough, to say nothing of the aura of confidence he exuded that had drawn the gladiator to him in the first place.

Megatron glanced back over toward the other room, finding that the seeker had disappeared entirely.

His attention was soon diverted, however, as Soundwave walked up to him, and, without any hesitation, wrapped his arms around him. After a moment, he let go, and the gladiator stared up at him. His aura, however weakened it was from high grade, desperately asked for an explanation. After a second, Soundwave finally obliged.

[You're incredible and I love you.]

Megatron's eyes narrowed slightly as he stared at his third in command, responding with a silent message, given that the autobots were also observing from the other side of the room.

[What prompted this?]

[You managed to persuade Shockwave to try high grade, which is something I thought I would never witness in my life.]

Megatron perked up at this, his eyes alone revealing his genuine surprise.

"I think I need to see that..." he muttered.

[He's on the third floor balconies.]

The gladiator glanced back over toward the aquarium for a minute.

"You wouldn't happen to know where Starscream went, would you?"

[I think he was headed to the gardens.]

Without another word, Megatron got up, holding a hand to the side of Soundwave's arm for a moment before walking off.

As Megatron walked through room after exquisite room, gazing at the unmistakably Vos motifs carved into the crown molding, the Kaon style light fixtures, the Iaconian layout with the house's central tower, and the distinct luminoth aesthetic woven into the designs of the wall fixtures and abstract art dotting the manor, the gladiator wondered what would come of all this once everyone left. After all, Starscream was just one person, and this manor was enough for the entirety of the decepticon high command to live in luxury. It was certainly impressive, despite how little he wanted to admit it, but it was also a remarkable building that would be tragically empty with just the seeker alone to tend to it.

The gladiator stepped past a couple luminoth as he passed through one doorway leading to what could only be described as a ballroom; a huge, open room lined on one side with tall windows that led out to the expansive gardens beyond. Tapestries, paintings, and geometric pieces decorated the walls, some depicting peaceful landscapes, some scenes of the luminoth's war with the Ing, and one tapestry in particular, hung in the center of the back wall, contained images of both himself and Shockwave, along with U-Mos and several others. Megatron walked over to the tapestry, inspecting it in further detail as a few luminoth did as well.

On the left side were him and Shockwave, looking over to the other side of a depiction of Aether, where the luminoth were. Above them, a starry sky dotted with the five decepticon vessels, a blue shape probably representing the Leviathan they destroyed, and a small crowd of pirate ships. As Megatron stared at the piece, more details started to become visible, like the sands of Agon behind Shockwave; the towering structure of the Great Temple behind U-Mos, and what looked to be Cybertron hidden behind himself. Patterns of circles branched out from the bottom, Cybetronian designs from the top.

Tapestries were by no means a good way of preserving history, but Megatron found himself entranced by it somehow. To think, someone spent hundreds of hours painstakingly weaving thread to create this masterpiece...

A reflection sent a beam of sunlight past his field of view, and the gladiator turned around, gazing out the wall of glass toward the gardens, finding the late sun casting long shadows across them. A vehicon came by, holding a tray of drinks, and Megatron silently took one, giving an approving nod to the vehicon as he did so.

He started off toward the large double doors leading outside, but stopped when he caught a glimpse of Starscream again, gazing up at a fountain in the shape of the Omega Lock, with water pooling in a glass reservoir above, reminiscent of the activated artifact in the way the water's gentle churning distorted the light that fell below, especially since the pool was lit from above with cyan lights that only just started to be visible in the growing darkness of dusk. The way the faint blue light fell on Starscream made it look as though he was himself glowing, bathed in the restorative energy the Omega Lock possessed. Pale light danced across the surface of his armor. Between the quiet sparkle in his silver armor, the iridescence of his dark gray, the luster of his finish, the bright flashes of color in his crest and the shimmering brass on his hands...

"My Lord..."

Megatron looked over, finding Typhoon standing beside him. She glanced over toward the garden for a moment, then back up at the gladiator.

"You're... staring."

Megatron gazed back at Starscream for a second, then let out a sigh.

"I know."

"I mean, he looks good, I'll give him that," the black seeker muttered, "but you're... staring."

"I can't help it."

"What, he doesn't look that good."

Megatron looked over at Typhoon with a subtle smile.

"I don't think you could pull off having actual gemstones set into your helm."

"Oh please. You're only impressed because he normally looks like scrap."

The gladiator took a drink of high grade before leaning forward into Typhoon's aura, his voice turning quiet and deliberate.

"If you're trying to vie for my attention, know that I am not so easily swayed."

Typhoon, rather than backing away, not only stood her ground, but returned the gesture slightly, holding her hands behind her and leaning toward him, her face just inches from his.

"We'll see about that..."

With that, she backed away slightly before turning around and walking away, her dark, striking musculature distracting for only a moment. Megatron finally glanced back toward the fountain outside, finding once again that Starscream had disappeared. He started off toward the garden, aggravated, trying to find some indication of where he went.

On the second floor, a long hallway spanned the width of the front of the building, interrupted only by the central tower and the accompanying balconies that circled it. This front hall was relatively quiet compared to the rest of the bustling manor, and it was here where Ratchet sat in a lounge chair, staring out through the front windows as the view began to darken. He took a drink of high grade, but something in his peripheral vision caught his attention, and he glanced over to find Wheeljack walking toward him.

"Uhh... how much have you had?" the wrecker asked. The medic responded with little more than an annoyed groan. Wheeljack leaned against the wall across from Ratchet, crossing his arms as he spoke again.

"I was waiting for you to come back."

Ratchet only briefly met Wheeljack's gaze before looking away again, taking another drink. After a minute, the wrecker's aura turned noticeably annoyed.

"You ignoring me?"

"No."

"What is it?"

"Nothing."

"You're getting free high grade, how can you be annoyed?"

"I'm fine."

"Was it the flamethrower thing?"

Ratchet finally rolled his eyes before looking back at the wrecker.

"Wheeljack, can you not take a hint?"

"I thought you said you were fine."

"Just go away, leave me here like you did on Earth."

The wrecker's expression softened ever so slightly.

"So that's it, huh?"

The medic let out another annoyed sound before downing the rest of his glass of high grade in a single motion. He shook his head slightly as he gazed away, his aura too corrupted by high grade to be noticeable.

"Just when things seem nice, you take off, leaving everyone else to handle the mess of... managing a functioning society. Still can't believe Bulkhead actually called you a friend."

Wheeljack was silent, leaving Ratchet to glance back at him after a moment, muttering in response.

"I didn't mean that. I just meant-"

"No," Wheeljack said, "I think I got what you meant. You're not exactly a subtle type."

The wrecker looked down the hall, seeming to gather his thoughts for a moment before speaking again.

"Thing is... I just can't stay in one place for too long. Don't really know why. Start to feel trapped, you know? But I'll come back."

"No..." Ratchet said as he stood up, "I don't think you will. You hate it here."

"Never said that..."

"You're not exactly a subtle type either."

"It's the 'cons I don't like, Ratchet. You know that."

The medic stepped forward, gesturing toward Wheeljack as he responded.

"You've been focused on fixing your ship since the day you crashed!"

Wheeljack stepped away from the wall, his aura growing ever so slightly hostile.

"And you've been right there, fixing it with me. I'm starting to get the sense you really do want me to go."

"Sure, abandon me again, go ahead, but don't bother coming back."

"Do you want me to leave or not!?"

With hardly a moment of hesitation, Ratchet stepped forward, grabbing Wheeljack's head in both hands and kissing him. After a few seconds, the medic staggered back, averting his gaze, knocking his empty glass of high grade off of an end table and to the floor as he backed into the opposite wall.

"I... that was... that didn't... uhh..."

Wheeljack merely stared into the distance, somewhat stunned, but spoke after a moment.

"... The hell?"

"That didn't happen. I'm sorry, clearly I had... too much..."

"You seem fine to me."

Ratchet stared down the empty hall, holding one arm with the other as he desperately tried to erase what just happened. Wheeljack's aura relaxed, however, and he spoke again, almost muttering to himself.

"That explains a lot, actually. Now that I think about it."

"Huh?"

Wheeljack stepped back over to him, using one hand to turn Ratchet's head to face him, and kissing him again.

This time, the built-up tension in Ratchet's posture slowly started to melt away, and he reached up to grab onto the wrecker's hand that still cradled the side of his head. After a second, Wheeljack pulled away, though still lingered close enough that they could feel each other's breath. His expression turned curious, and he spoke.

"You... taste like high grade. How much have you had?"

"I... don't really keep track. I have... stronger stuff than high grade... if you want..."

"How were you not a Wrecker?"

"Having a flamethrower and a taste for illicit circuit boosters is all it takes? I think you're just insulting them at this point."

Wheeljack started laughing quietly, holding his hands to Ratchet's head again.

"See, that right there is exactly why you'd be perfect."

"That... makes no sense."

"So... what kind of stronger stuff are we talking about?"

Ratchet stared back at the wrecker, his eyes widening ever so slightly.

"Uhh... we'd have to... get... out of here..."

Wheeljack's expression turned amused.

"Taking things real fast, are we?"

In an instant, Ratchet swung, slapping Wheeljack across the face. The wrecker stumbled back a bit, laughing quietly despite the medic's obvious annoyance. Nonetheless, after a second, a groundbridge portal appeared in the hallway, and the two quietly slipped through.

Megatron stepped through a set of doors leading to a small porch on the third floor, looking around, having just seen Starscream here. Something else caught his attention, though, and he glanced over to find Soundwave and Shockwave leaning against a thick stone railing nearby. He stepped over toward them, prompting Soundwave to glance over at him. By the slow, awkward way he moved his head, it was already obvious he'd had quite a bit of high grade.

[This place is actually amazing,] he said. Megatron sighed as he spoke.

"Yes, despite the unfortunate implications of that for us. It's far too much for one person, though."

[yeah]

The gladiator looked over toward Shockwave instead.

"How do you feel?"

At first it seemed as though the scientist didn't even hear the question, but after a second, he glanced back at Megatron.

"Were you asking me?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

Shockwave looked away, seemingly trying to think of an answer.

"I feel... absentminded. Slightly... gyroscopic. And nauseous."

The gladiator couldn't help a hint of a smile.

"That sounds accurate somehow."

Soundwave slowly turned his head toward Megatron.

[Have you been chasing Starscream around this whole time?]

"I think he's hiding from me..."

[Why would he do that when you're giving him all the attention he's ever wanted?]

Megatron let out something of a growl.

"I haven't so much as spoken to him yet."

The two glanced over as Shockwave started coughing, leaning over the railing slightly before parts of his head seemed to unfold out, opening up and allowing him to purge energon over the railing and onto the piece of slanted roof below. Megatron just stared, seeming to be genuinely stunned by what he just witnessed. After a second, Shockwave's face seemed to return to normal, if there ever was such a thing, and he returned the gladiator's stare.

"I'm no longer nauseous, at least."

"I... might be. I'm... going to go back to chasing Starscream."

Soundwave sent a message in response, but didn't so much as move.

[he's at the top of the tower I think]

"Good..."

With that, Megatron walked off, slightly too eager to put distance between himself and Shockwave.

As night started to fall, the manor's dim lighting became more visible, filling the house with lovely shades of colored light. As Megatron walked, he passed by several luminoth out on another balcony throwing paper airplanes out into the front lawn, Steelwing seemingly chasing Typhoon down a hallway, and a group of vehicons all holding drinks and laughing. When they caught a glimpse of Megatron, though, they all turned toward him, cheering momentarily as he walked past. He kept moving, however, coming to the central rotunda and looking up to find Starscream two floors above, leaned over the railing, looking down. It seemed to take the seeker a second to notice Megatron, but even once he did, he merely pointed down toward the ground floor, prompting the gladiator to look over the railing as well.

The fountain at the bottom of the tower, normally pouring oil from its hands, must have been set on fire at some point, because while the stone structure was intact, the oil that dripped from its hands was now alight, but only barely. The glass vase held in the statue's hands now had a small fire trapped within, tinted a deep blue by the color of the glass. From the vase, drops of flaming oil poured out into the pool below, but were almost immediately extinguished by the splashing below. The room, as such, was lit by the small flame, sending shadows and distortions dancing across the walls. Starscream looked back over toward Megatron.

"I was going to be mad, but it actually makes it look better..."

The gladiator looked back up at Starscream.

"Speaking of looking better..."

The seeker backed away from the railing slightly, glancing away for a moment.

"I... have been hiding from you, sorry..."

"Don't tell me you're going to obsess over your finish like Knockout."

"When it looks this good, of course I will."

With a mere jerk of his head, Starscream motioned for Megatron to follow, then walked away from the balcony. After climbing the stairwell nearby, the gladiator found him standing in front of a set of angled windows that looked out over the back gardens, holding his hands behind him. He stepped up to the window, gazing out over the expansive gardens below, watching as decepticons and luminoth alike strolled along the brick pathways.

He hadn't noticed it before, but the Omega Lock fountain rested near the center of the garden, surrounded at some distance by a collection of statues. After a second, he realized that each one depicted a member of the Thirteen, and that they each faced the central fountain. Megatron glanced down at Starscream.

"Did you come up with all of this?"

The seeker looked back at him, the crimson gemstones set into his crest shimmering and sparkling with every subtle motion. He let out a quiet laugh, then stared back out at the garden.

"Of course. The gardens were all my idea. But I let them have some creative liberty with the interior design."

The gladiator said nothing. After a minute, Starscream looked back over at him, gesturing with his brass fingers.

"It's okay... you can admit you're impressed."

Megatron stared down at him, a hint of a smile appearing on his face.

UPDATE 2025

I'm so very sorry, but I'm not going to be continuing this story. Too much has changed. I always felt so much shame around this, and now I need to remove my association from it and start a new life. Furthermore, much of this change is related to my realization over time that psychiatry is actually a colonialist pseudoscience that has ruined my life and the lives of countless others. To that end I recommend the webside Mad in America, as it is an aggregator for the stories and studies that get overlooked and dismissed everywhere else. I am disgusted at the pro-psychiatry slant I wrote into this story and want to make clear that I no longer support any form of psychiatric medication, especially when given nonconsentually. That is nothing less than a form of assault upon one's bodily and conscious autonomy and society needs to move away from normalizing medication as the only answer to suffering that lacks a clear physical cause.

But this is an alright place to leave the story, I guess. I never really figured out the most important parts of the plot, so I can't even really tell you what was going to happen. But, among many other things, Starscream was going to end up carrying (from Megatron, of course) but actually die before the plot climax. The child, Nova, wasn't full term but survives with some support. Megatron is quite heavily affected by the plot climax and by the end isn't terribly fit to be raising him, so Soundwave and Shockwave and to a decent extent Aftershock end up taking care of him. Except that, years later, as Nova starts to get a bit older, everyone realizes that he inherited Megatron and Starscream's manipulator skills, but he's a psychopath with no empathy or remorse; one of those rare people who is just innately going to be a danger to anyone around them because they have no fear, no empathy, and end up hurting people and animals just because they find it amusing. For all the evil they've done, Megatron and Starscream aren't like that. So that was going to be difficult.

Anyway, sorry again. At least I finished the first part. And we all got a fun party at the end.