Okay. This was supposed to be a Jupiter Ascending fic, but then I realized that I don't fully understand the movie (How can someone be half-abino?), so I'm taking the basic plot and going from there. I tried to take a step back from using Optimus as a main character all the time (*shrug*), so here's Prowl, with a little bit of Optimus stepping in at a later chapter.

I had a thought, walking to the three Quintessons' hall, that I do not get paid enough for what I do.

After the war ended badly for us Autobots, we had to join the Quintesson's cause. Optimus, of course, rebelled, and took Bumblebee and his daughter from Aleta with him. I stayed with Jazz, my mate. I couldn't take him away, and I couldn't leave him.

See, what the Quintessons need are planets. Planets full of females they can breed with, and Cybertron is dead, Aquatron is theirs already, but the population is strictly male (the oldest Quintesson brother thinks that if they believe they are in danger, some of the males will switch genders like frogs), and Velocitron is being used as the current breeding grounds.

To ensure their cooperation, they have me: the bounty hunter. I go out and find planets with females that the Quintessons can breed with. And right now, I had news of Earth that I would bring up after they gave me an assignment.

The oldest spoke as soon as I opened the door.

"You will go to Earth, find the Seeker Queen, and bring her here."

They must be desperate, I thought. They don't usually send me out to sniff for a Seeker, which produces three sparklings each time they carry. It occurs to me that the Quintesson brothers are older than I thought.

"Very well," I said, which is the only two words I am really allowed to speak after they give an assignment. Anything more would be seen as disrespectful. I left quickly and found my mount.

She hung from the ceiling, her wings pinned to the ceiling, her collar pulling her neck back as it, too, was chained to the ceiling. Her paws were pressed to her chest. Her hind legs were pressing against the floor a mech pounded his hips into her aft. She made a grimacing expression as I drew near, but I dared not interupt. I liked my servos, and I knew Deathbrigher could tear them off with a flick of his helm. I did not want that.

Roselight watched me with her good optic, growling slowly while Deathbringer overloaded heavily, his hips twitching as he ground a little deeper. Then he pulled out and walked back to his own room, a Quintession waving a bright light for him to come. It vaguely reminded me of a movie about dinosaurs, but the feeling faded when I saw Roselight was huffing, steam rising from her nostrils. I bared my denta.

Before she could breathe a spark of her deadly fire, I pushed two digits up against her throat and silenced her roar, smacking a servo hard onto her snout and pinning it closed. She shook me off and struggled. I cut her free and climbed onto her shoulders. She walked slowly out of the breeding room, and when I turned, I watched a younger Predacon femme put herself up into the same position Roselight had been in. She made a quiet sound as the mech returned and mounted her just as he had mounted my mount, and I spurred her into the hall.

She found her way into space. Predacons are the only ones, save Seekers and Insecticons, that can navigate deep space without guidance, assistance, or thrusters. As she flapped her wings and moved her hind legs, as if swimming, I leaned back and thought about my assignment.

Seekers have one Queen and one King. The Queen, the submissive of the two, can be either mech or femme, but currently, the Queen was femme, but she was weak. Dying. She had a newborn Princess, and I thought about the chances of the Queen carrying versus the Princess, who would have surely aged considerably before I could touch down to Earth. I had a few friends I could trust with my task, Optimus being one of them, but first I would have to find him, and I did not want to seek him out immediately.

He and I no longer got along. He despised the Quintesson brothers. I eagerly await their call. We are different.

Roselight and I have a mount-and-rider bond. She chose me by desiring my death, and I chose her by refusing her desire. She tries every day, and every day we continue to be mount and rider. Rider and mount. At that mental correction, I produced a whip and struck it across her hindquarters. She roared, and though I could hear it, I felt it. I struck her hindquarters again, harder, and she quickened her stride. I am always impressed with her, but I do not let her know that. She becomes unruly with pride.

We need time to rest, though Vector's fingers of time do not reach us. Much. I know that Roselight can go for days without rest, and I can go for a few more days without Energon, but Roselight was foaming at the mouth when I went to check on her. A string of it hit my face and I wiped it off. She smirked. I struck her hindquarters again.

A small moon came into view, playing sentinel to a planet I had wished to forget. I descended on the rock, led Rose to a post and I chained her there. I always kept a good, long, sturdy chain around my hips. It served to chain Rose, beat answers out of mechs, and seduce them out of femmes. Femmes are easier to pry answers from, and I sought one out immediately.

She worked at the bar, flipping bottles. I smirked at her and she grimaced at me. Then she spun me a cube of High Grade.

"Prowl, Prowl, Prowl," she cooed. She bore the brand of a breeder on her neck: 835 1. She was the eight hundred and thirty fifth creation of the first brother of the Quintessons. The one I hate the most.

And I confess to pinning her on her own berth. Sometimes the chain works too well.

I knew that if I looked a little further down towards the floor behind the bar counter, I would see a beautiful femme sparkling playing with blocks. Her name is Nightprowler, and I felt a fierce feeling of pride every time I spoke her name. Nightprowler. She would follow my pede steps if only Rosethorn would allow her.

Ah, yes. Rosethorn. Roselight. See, when I was "with" Rosethorn, Roselight was merely an egg with my name on it. When Roselight emerged, and I saw the pink face, I knew her name had to be Rose-something. Rosethorn agreed, and we thought we would be forever together.

And then I met Jazz. The war was lost. I became a bounty hunter. I didn't love her anymore. I left her in the middle of the night, Nightprowler only a small, itty bitty thing inside her womb. I didn't know until recently I had sired a sparkling with a femme of all Cybertronians.

"You look lovely, Thorn," I purred. I called her by her nickname, hoping to draw out some affection I didn't earn, didn't deserve. It didn't. She ignored me until I spoke again. "I'm looking for a Seeker Queen."

"Seeker Queen? She's dying." She flipped another bottle of High Grade and spun a cube all the way down the thirty-six foot counter to a mech waiting at the end. I was impressed when I saw it the first time, and now I know all her tricks. I was no longer impressed with card tricks. I wanted cold, hard facts and some really quick, really smart answers.

Now.

"I know that. I want to know the next in line. By the time I make it to Earth, will the Seeker Queen be alive? Or dead?"

"Dead. Six feet in the ground, flowers on her grave dust. That dead." Rosethorn eyed me for a long time. "The Quintessons need her?"

"They need heirs," I grumbled. I hated them, hated doing their work, but they were old. Fragile. I doubted they could get out of their thrones without their spark overworking and eventually exploding. It's a tragic death, one I had to watch several times. It isn't pretty. It makes a mess.

"Well, recently, the Seeker Queen had a femme, and right now," Rosethorn glances at an Earth watch on her wrist, which moves rapidly in this place, "she is a day old. By the time you make it to Earth, she will be of breeding age."

"Excellent. When should I leave?"

More calculations. "Six minutes ago. You're running out of time!"

I scowled and drank my High Grade before rushing out to Roselight, who was pacing. A Predacon mech was checking her out, sniffing and nuzzling her red-lined hindquarters. I promptly fired a warning shot, which made the beast cower. Roselight barely flinched. I pushed her towards Earth, never giving her rest until I knew she was close to Earth, about a few Earth years away. We landed on their moon, and I looked out at the other planets, gazed at the sun.

"Such a bright star," I said to Roselight, who laid down with a cloud of dust. She sneezed. I laughed. "Earth isn't this dusty."

She gave me a look of disbelief. She snorted, sneezed again. Lashed her tail. I was still amused. I sat against her side, allowed myself to show her the slightest signs of affection. I stroked her jaw, pulled her head around so I could kiss her optic closed. She breathed softly on my shoulder, licked the armor there. I patted her wounded aft, checked her valve for damage. She would be fine. I lowered her hindleg and laid down beside her.

Predacons were seen as guardians of sleep, and it is common for a mobile to be made of Predacons over a fussy sparkling. Briefly, Prowl wondered why anyone would think a smelly beast like Rose would be any kind of guardian when Roselight fanned out her wings, arched her neck, and covered me in warm darkness, her optics glued to Earth, her audios pricked behind her.

And she waited for the chance to protect me.

ooo

We landed in the ocean. Rose did this on purpose. She preened the soot off her, licked her amror clean of salt, and flapped the rest onto me. I swatted her chest for it, but she only smiled and trotted onto the shore. I gazed around, closed my optics and inhaled deeply.

I could scent as good as an Amalgami, because once upon a very long time ago, an Amalgami and a Praxian fell in love, creating my line. I have been infused with the genes, but I cannot take on physical forms of my enemies, of my friends, of anything, save a car, a human, and my bipedal mode. So I reverted to human, Roselight took on the form of a horse, and we were on our way.

To anyone watching that morning, we looked like demons emerging from the ocean, set on finding royalty and sacraficing her to the cause, but I doubted that anyone would be awake at four forty-five in the morning on a Saturday, save the Royal Queen herself. I had to find her. As I climbed onto Roselight's red-coated back and settled on her spine (so strange, I thought), I breathed deeply again and picked up the scents I found before: Optimus, Bumblebee, Axiona, and Seeker. Tons and tons of Seeker-scent. I spurred Rose towards the cloud, and her red eyes went wild with the thought of a hunt.

I had to admit, I was feeling pretty excited myself.