Everyone treated Rodimus like a hero now.
Not that he minded, but he could only take so much hero-worship.
He had saved Optimus's life by shooting Megatron in the back when the gray warlord had pinned the truckformer to the ground and was snarling in his face, clawed servos groping his chest.
Now everybot showered him with praise and he was sick to pit with it.
So it was a relief when Optimus asked him to help scour the Nemesis for anything of value.
At least he didn't do any more then thank him once for saving his life, and never mentioned the incident again
All the former Decepticons had integrated right back into Autobot society without their leaders alive, as Galvatron had been executed, and Cyclonus, having been sparkbonded to the purple hellion, had requested execution as well, rather then a slow death.
And Starscream had been missing for several centuries, assumed dead.
Since he hadn't miraculously shown up to claim the throne for himself, everyone supposed they had been right.
Soundwave had been sparkbonded to Megatron, but to everyone's surprise, Jazz preformed an emergency Sparkbond, as his bonded, Prowl, had been killed in the last battle as well.
Both telepath and assassin were lying in med bay recovering, not awake yet.
Ratchet had preformed so many de-contamination surgeries that he was extra grumpy, and his private 'harem', consisting of the twins and Ironhide, were soothing him.
Ratchet had refused to Sparkbond to anybot during the war, but now his three lovers, okay, four counting a confused Wheeljack who was torn between Perceptor and the old medic, were vying for his attentions.
Optimus knew that the original Decepticon virus was there, as he had been there when the outbreak started, but had said nothing but nodded when Ratchet reported it to him.
The former Cons were scarred with their blood-red optics, but were thankful to return to their former mindsets.
Many had chosen to become contaminated, because they admired Megatron, or hated the Autobots, but there were a few who had been unwillingly infected.
One of those had not survived, much to the Prime's private grief, but no one else minded, unaware of their beloved leader's silent mourning.
All of the former Cons had looked aghast when asked if they wanted to return to their old base and collect anything, and had vehemently refused.
They all looked unhappy, and evaded any questioning on why they refused to return, and had warned any Autobot from exploring it for at least half a vorn or more.
Optimus had a bad feeling in his core, and had asked Rodimus if he would like to help him check it out.
Rodimus had eagerly accepted of course, and they had traveled in silence until they had opened the door to the old Con base.
That's when they had heard it: this pitiful, spark-rending cry.
"M-a-a-a-s-t-er!"
Optimus Prime and Rodimus exchange shocked glances.
"M-a-a-a-s-t-er!" the piteous cry came again.
"Starscream?" Rodimus whispered. "I-I thought he'd died centuries ago!"
"It appears we were wrong." Optimus said heavily, as the all-too-familiar screeching voice cried out weakly once more.
Without another word, Rodimus pushed forward and headed for the sound of the crying, soft sobbing being heard the closer they got to Megatron's former quarters.
The door was askew as they approached it, and Rodimus looked back at his leader for permission, and the Prime nodded.
Rodimus entered, guns drawn, but he dropped them in shock the klik he stepped over the threshold.
Optimus peered over his shoulder, his own shock rendering him immobile.
A…creature…was in a tiny-for-its-size birdcage hung several feet off the floor, long elegant, but trembling, wings brushing the top of the cage, dainty ankles cuffed to the bars on the sides, lengthy tapered claws clutching the bars on the front.
There was barely room inside for the creature to sit in the kneeling, slightly spread leg position it was in, but somehow it was in there.
The being staring in terror at them, having gone mute other then whimpering, was a dark gray, light gray, and black all over, with some red highlights.
The creature had soft red optics, lowered black optical ridges that twitched as it shivered, two fluttering whitish crest for audios on the side of the helm, a whitish crest on top of the dark helm, face gray and drawn, the lower lip trembling piteously.
The wings seemed too long to be strong enough to support the flier, which they slowly supposed must be some kind of Seeker they had never seen before.
The elongated claws were tapered, and deadly sharp, once more so long as to seem unnatural.
The legs were attractively long and slender as well, and had high high heels that had some red highlights.
The knees' armor had a lengthy spike protruding from each of them as well, sticking far out of the bars of the cage, the base of each knee being red and the rest gray.
There even was a bright red spike fixed on the forehelm of the shivering creature, which waist, gray with red highlights, was so slim as to look like the top part of the body might crumple it.
Both Optimus and Rodimus realized that this creature, or Seeker, was designed to arouse on sight, as despite their horror at finding such a being as this one, they could feel their spikes pressurizing and heat filling their interface units.
Rodimus was the first to speak.
"Is that, is that Starscream?" he asked in a dazed tone.
"I would say so, by the label on the cage." Optimus noted.
Indeed, engraved on the cage was the word, Starscream, along with a leash and collar labeled with the same.
Optimus approached the frightened Seeker, noticing how much smaller the once fearsome jet was now.
"Starscream?" he questioned, bending down so as to look the Seeker in the, as he could now see, filmy optics.
Starscream stared up at him, cringing slightly back, lip trembling, large crimson optics filled with tears.
But he didn't respond, just whimpered.