Dawn of Ages

by Crystal RoseWing

(Not Alone Sequel) The war between the Autobots and Decepticons may be over but the scars are festering. But when the Predacon race, long thought to be lost to the stars, resurfaces and dark and dangerous secrets are exposed... will there be any chance for peace? Or will another war, bloodier than the last destroy both races? STORY NOT DEAD, JUST ON HIATUS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE...

1. The Flow of Time

This little fanfic is a sequel to my previous Transformers fic 'Not Alone' so if you haven't read that you may not understand what's going on here. Also please see the end of the chapters for all Authoress's notes :)

Dawn of Ages

Chapter 1

The Flow of Time

To anyone who is not familiar with them, the magnificent halls of Predakings castle could be quite eerie at night…

However the Dragon King felt no such thing as he quietly walked through the hallways that were only illuminated by torches held high upon the walls. Though the flickering light of the flames did little to pierce through the seemingly all-consuming darkness, but in truth Predaking did not actually need them to know where he was going... not anymore anyway; he'd begrudgingly admit that back when the castles construction had first been completed he had gotten lost within the winding corridors on more than one occasion. But by this point in time, millions of earth years later, what felt like a nearly countless number of vorns, he had walked them so often that each one was long memorized. If there had been anyone else present and able to glimpse within the Dragonformers optics, they would have seen that he was tired as well as deeply worried about something.

He continued his walk through the passages until he came upon a staircase that was bathed in the soft, seemingly ethereal light that emanated from Diuturnus's two moons and the nearby gas giant. Trying to be as quiet as a being of his immense stature could manage, he walked up the stairs and came to a single ornate door where a pair of torches that burned with blue flames were positioned on either side of it. He hesitated for a moment as though unsure whether or not he should even enter the chamber, but whatever doubts he had he apparently dismissed before opening this door and walking inside.

The room was large, circular and currently very dark. The stone walls were crafted to look as though they were part of the night sky, speckled with glittering diamond shards of varying sizes and colors that had been embedded within them to mimic the appearance of stars. There were several tapestries upon the walls some showing beautiful patterns while others depicted breathtaking landscape scenes, presumably of various places upon the planet that the Predacon species now called home. One tapestry in particular depicted a multi-headed beast battling with an Imperial Dragon, a story which Predaking knew all too well. The tale having long since become rooted within their culture and were three or four comfortable looking chairs situated in various places throughout the room, one was positioned in front of a fireplace where blue flames were currently dying down to embers. Off to one side of the room was a desk that held an assortment of various items, amongst them a large white crystal ball that he knew served no other purpose than to be a decorative paperweight. Scattered around were also many shelves lined with books, data pads, scrolls, and various other sorts of reading and writing materials. But the Predacon King was not interested in any of that, his only interest was drawn to the figure sitting quietly in one of the chairs looking out the only window in the room. A window that was wide open and this lone figure was silently staring out it; a few faint traces of snow were present on the edges of this window and in some areas dusted the floor. Something that was not surprising considering it would only be reaching the halfway point through the long winter vorn in several weeks. But this figure either didn't mind or was simply ignoring the frigid cold. Whichever it was Predaking wasn't entirely sure but he smiled slightly as he approached the figure of his beloved mate and the Predacon Queen, Songbird.

She had not changed much over the long vorns. If there were any changes that could have even be noticed they were concealed by what she was currently wearing namely a heavy but beautiful navy blue silken robe, no doubt made specifically to fit her frame. But one thing that could be readily seen was that the gryphon femme looked tired. Not just physically either, her sapphire optics shown with an exhaustion that seemed to rise from the depths of her very spark. It far surpassed the similar look in Predaking's own golden optics. She eventually took notice of her mates' approach and turned to look at him. Although her gaze still held an unfathomable fatigue the smile that formed on her features did manage to conceal some of it.

"How are they my love?" She asked, her voice was barely louder than a whisper but was clearly laden with weariness.

Predaking chuckled softly as he approached his weakened mate. "I am not yet as skilled as you are with the triplet's nightly ritual. They coerced an extra bedtime story out of me, but rest assured that they are asleep now." He said in a hushed tone and his voice was as soft and as warm as his smile, but it faded slightly as he gently embraced his mate, his Song.

"Between you and our tiny little sparklings with large cute optics, the sparklings remain undefeated." Songbird joked with a weak laugh as Predaking's hold on her tightened ever so slightly. Although he was being far more cautious than he normally would, treating her as though she was made of glass and could shatter in his servos in a split second if he was not careful.

"They worry about you my dear. They… they are still too young to understand what has happened. All they know is that you have fallen ill and that they have not seen you for quite some time now." The Dragon King was referring to the three youngest additions to their family. A little group of triplets two of whom were dragonformers and the third was a gryphonformer. The only mech was named Snowstorm and his two sisters were named Silverlight and Thorn with the last being the gryphonformer. They were very young, not quite a vorn old yet. At their current state they were roughly the equivalent of three year olds. The aging process having considerably slowed from what it had been throughout the long war between the Autobots and Decepticons, but according to Knockout this was something to be expected. As the severe and constant stress of wartime on a carriers frame triggered a response within the sparklings coding which prompted a shorter gestation cycle and advanced frame aging, with that stress gone the growth process had slowed back down to what it was naturally.

In response to Predakings words Songbird frowned and sighed as she leaned into her mates loving embrace. "I don't mean to ignore them, I just… I just needed some time." Her voice worried Predaking for he could never remember ever having heard her sound so weak.

It was no secret that for the past several weeks his queen had been in poor health. It had begun with the same symptoms of a mild cold, merely discomfort and there was so little that she barely paid it any mind. But with each passing day the discomfort grew worse and other symptoms began to crash through her powerful frame in waves of growing pain. As the agony grew worse, it was not long before Songbird had ended up bedridden. This mysterious illness baffled the physicians and healers called in to help their queen and it left her with barely enough strength to stay conscious. But this sickness had reached its crescendo several weeks ago. Late one night when Predaking had been awakened from his slumber by his mates' frantic screams. As he'd been recharging on a couch just a little ways down the hall from their berthroom. As he had not wanted to inhibit her rest but he still wanted to be nearby should she need him. Summoned by those shrieks he raced into the room only to find his precious Song had fallen off the berth and was lying on the floor writhing in anguish… as she had miscarried the twins she'd only begun carrying four months prior.

While the illness may have peaked that day it still lingered for another agonizing week before Songbirds body managed to fight off whatever toxin had been ailing her. But by that time the damage had been done. Her processor had been addled by the sickness and she did not remember the miscarriage. Predaking had been the one who'd told her the horrible truth when she had first started to panic when she could no longer detect the sparklings life frequencies within her frame. He never wanted to have to do that again, he never wanted to see her break down like that… She'd never lost a child before, let alone two. She had never even considered it to even be a possibility and because of that the miscarriage was such a devastating blow. Undoubtedly the sound of her spark-broken sobs would haunt his nightmares for many vorns yet to come. But seeing Songs health beginning to improve filled the Dragon King's spark with a sense of relief and it finally gave him some good news to tell their elder children. Nearly all whom had returned to the castle when they had heard the news of the tragedy that had befallen their mother.

Still in spite of her children's presence Songbird had wished to remain secluded in her tower room. Something that was very unlike her, but grief and depression were known to alter an individual's behavior. Neither her mate nor her children were pleased when they heard this; the spark-twins Zeus and Thor in particular did not believe they should leave their mother alone after such events but Predaking strictly forbid the two from dishonoring their mothers wish for solitude. Something that was far easier said than done, considering that those two could be extremely stubborn and several times had tried to sneak up to Songbirds private tower. Fortunately, or unfortunately for them, Predaking's eldest stepdaughter Freefall had stopped every one of their attempts. It was somewhat sad that of all of Predakings and Songbirds biological children the twins were undoubtedly the dimmest. Freefall on the other hand was one of the most respected Gladiators to ever fight in Diuturnus's great Coliseum and she always had a talent for wrangling the two mischievous brothers. It also helped that they were completely terrified of her.

Predaking shifted slightly as he glanced out the open window and looked down at the partially visible outline of the city of Praesidia, the closest major city to their location. The cities outline was currently blanketed in a layer of freshly fallen snow and the storm clouds looming high above promised to deliver more soon. An omen which made the gryphon femme chuckle slightly. "Ulciscor continues to wander through the world bringing forth the winter storms and frigid snow and she shall not cease her travels until the first light of the new spring. Then she slumbers while her sister Aequitas awakens and begins her own journey."

"So travelers be wary for raging storms tend to herald her approach." Predaking muttered before finally releasing Songbird from his gentle embrace. "You really should not be up here alone with your window wide open on such a cold night. I fear for your health my love. You are still weak, I can feel it through our bond." This was not a lie, the Dragon King could literally feel his mate's exhaustion in his very spark and it worried him a great deal.

Songbird however just shook her head slightly and smiled at him. "I'm sorry that I'm worrying you. I know that I can say you don't have to worry about me so much… but I also know you will do so anyway. Besides, I wasn't alone. River has kept me company, even made me some fresh tea." She said gesturing over to one of the chairs in the back of the room where Predaking had failed to notice that his biological daughter was sleeping quietly.

"I did not even know she had arrived, let alone that she was up here with you. But I was under the impression you wished to be alone." He inquired as he inwardly realized that he would need to apologize to his twin sons later on.

"That was what I originally wanted, but River is your daughter and there are times that she shows signs of inheriting your stubborn streak. She guessed that I was up here so she flew directly to my window and when I let her in she just didn't leave. But her companions left for Praesidia as soon as they gave me their condolences."

"Ah yes, the Fury and the halfbreed." He snorted slightly before quietly muttering. "Zurun sos." The words coming from an instinctual language Predacons were born understanding; a language that they had reclaimed ages ago.

The Predacon Queen rolled her optics at her mate's insulting reference to the 'halfbreed' or the 'Zurun sos,' which in their language translated to 'Strange Blood' either way he was also the only mech who traveled alongside their daughter. "You really shouldn't refer to the boy like that, Ace has not only proven himself to be loyal to River, but we know that there is no one faster than him in all of our world."

"He was born with four wings, of course he would be fast." Predaking huffed slightly. "His sire is not of our kind, but one of the lesser Cybertronian breeds. If his child had not developed that mutation I have my doubts that he would have any other special traits. Aside of course from that ridiculous accent he shares with his sire."

"Was it a simple mutation? Or was it a blessingfrom Selene? You know our goddess tends to work in mysterious ways." Song said simply as she referenced the patron deity of the Predacons.

These days she was now called by her true name, no longer did she see the need to hide behind false names or aliases. She spoke her true name for the first time when she finally came to the planet her Predacons now inhabited. Her arrival was far quicker than anyone could have anticipated, a mere 10,000 Earth years after she claimed the species as her own and also brought the long Cybertronian war to an abrupt and brutal end. An end that she herself had been the final deciding factor in, when she forced both Autobots and Decepticons to face the bitter reality that both sides had lost... Lost the war, lost their leaders and even lost the very All Spark.

Even if that last one was the Predacon's little secret…

Nonetheless when Selene had descended upon their world it was revealed that she had not come alone, she brought with her the beings Aequitas and Ulciscor. Two towering and powerful female creatures that bore noticeably similar traits to their Deity of Balance and she had declared that the two were actually her sisters. In fact she stated that the three of them had been born together at the same time. Triplets. A rather shocking revelation, especially to Songbird, who had been the first Predacon to ever converse with the deity and she had never once mentioned these so called siblings. To this day Selene had never said exactly where her two sisters were during all the events that had transpired, she merely said that 'They had always been together, even when they had shared the same body and mind. Each always had her own voice.' Not a very forthcoming answer and Selene never revealed anything more about their origins. Still it was relieving to the Predacon Queen to see that her old friend seemed healthier both physically and mentally than at their last meeting. Yet returning to the subject of Ulciscor and Aequitas, it was clear that neither of these two other sisters were as powerful as Selene herself; and when the goddess merged herself to their planet, Aequitas migrated to the southern pole where she slept as a stone statue through the autumn and winter vorns while Ulciscor settled in the northern pole and would likewise enter a stone sleep during spring and summer. But the deities' arrival was only the trigger to a vast amount of changes that began to reshape the very fabric of reality upon their planet.

Truth be told Diuturnus had always had an unusual problem of weak dimensional barriers. As hard as it was to believe many Predacons had claimed to see things and to interact with beings not from their world, let alone their plane of existence. Powerful beings. Now Predaking had not believed any of these stories in the beginning, not when Orb Weaver had showed up abruptly one day back when the castle was still being constructed and had something of a hysterical fit! Screaming that her lab was haunted by some sort of monstrous wraith or demon. Apparently she'd seen some sort of formless creature that she described to be nothing more than a disgusting mass of eyes and tentacles. The king had dismissed her of course, stating that the techno-organic femme had merely been working too hard and was starting to see things. Shortly after that incident Songbird had told him of an odd event that had occurred when she had been out hunting. After she had killed her chosen quarry, she'd had a run in with a spirit who had applauded her skill with the hunt and stated that her species had caught his attention as they were amongst the finest hunters he had ever encountered. Predaking didn't believe her either, something he regretted saying when she got agitated at him and gave him the cold wing for nearly a week afterwards. But there had come a time when his optics had been rather forcefully opened to the truth. Shortly following the arrival of Selene and her sisters to their planet and after their collective powers had caused such immense changes to their world, the existence of these spirits was not only confirmed, but Weaver may have taken a bit of pleasure when Predaking eventually came face to 'face' with the creature she'd encountered in her lab. But the full story of how Predaking came to speak with Mora for the first time would have to remain a tale for another day.

Returning to the situation at hand Predaking glanced out the open window when a low rumble of thunder resounded ominously and a frigid wind began to whip around the tower. Bringing the promise of a particularly nasty winter storm, the kind where wings froze and lightning ripped through sparks. "You should come to bed now my dear, you still need rest." He said gently as he reached over and closed the window. Songbird nodded, knowing that the exhaustion had taken a heavy toll on her frame as it was. There was no need to run the risk of unintentionally injuring herself further and in turn making her family worry more.

"Let River sleep here tonight." She whispered softly to her mate. "She flew here nonstop from the Sothern Shrine and only dozed off a few minutes before you came up here."

"The Southern Shrine?" Predaking echoed more than a little surprised by this considering it was literally located at the southern pole of the planet and an incredible distance from the castle. "Then it is no wonder that she was the last to return." He suddenly spied a heavy black and blue blanket draped on the back of one of the other chairs in the room which he quickly grabbed and then carefully draped over Rivers sleeping form. This caused the femme shifted slightly in her sleep but she did not wake. Predaking then returned his attention to Song as she stood up. But the motion of doing so gave her a sudden dizzy spell and she had to grab onto the larger dragonformer in order to steady herself.

The Gryphon Queen barely managed to take three steps on her own before she nearly lost her balance yet again and Predaking opted for a safer alternative. So before Songbird could react she found herself being held bridal style in the powerful arms of her mate. Under normal circumstances she would have protested him treating her in such an indignant way but given the circumstances the act of affection was appreciated. In fact as she rested her helm against Predakings powerful chassis, the sound of his thunderous sparkbeat becoming a relaxing melody to the physically and emotionally exhausted gryphonformer.

He carried her silently through the dark halls and then into their berthroom. It was spacious in size and its decor appropriately fit the personalities of the monarchs who resided within it. Currently the only light within the room came from an ornately carved crystal lantern with a flame burning in its center. Their berth alone was positively huge, but then again it was a custom that Predacon berths needed to be big enough to accommodate not only their owners' robot forms but their beast forms as well. Songbird slipped from her mate's arms and wearily managed to slip free of her silken robe not even caring that she left it on the ground or that she bumped into her nightstand causing her neatly stacked deck of Tarot cards to spill to the floor as she slipped underneath the heavy blankets and mechanimal skins. There were already more blankets on the berth than there usually were and Predaking proceeded to add two more on top of those. The final one being a special blanket that was split into two different scenes; one which depicted a sun with raging fire burning fiercely around it while the other depicted a night scene with one silvery crescent moon in the foreground and a smaller one in the background and the whole image was surrounded by stars and lightly veiled with the colors of the 'worlds lights' or what would've been known as the northern lights back on earth. This blanket had been a gift from their youngest son Scythe back when his this sight had finally failed him, back when he had only just started his tutelage under the optics of a powerful spirit and before the goddess Selene had bestowed the gift of perception upon him. Even completely blind the young mech's talents were incredible.

"I… I fear that I won't be well enough to attend the Winter Zenith Festival with you this vorn. I know that we are obligated to go… and… It's only a few days away." Songbird began to mumble as her need for sleep began to wash over her frame.

"That is far from important now my dear. Rest now." The words barely left Predakings mouth before he knew that Song had already slipped into a deep and hopefully dreamless sleep. He chuckled slightly when he realized this and he gently traced a claw over her helm before he turned to the crystal lantern and blew out the flame within. It would not be long after that that he too was claimed by sleep.

In spite of their recent tragedy they still had so much to be grateful for…

Time would heal the wounds and the sorrow would pass…

The future of their race and their family remained a shining star upon the horizon…

---

However the same thing could not be said for Cybertron…

Looking out from one of the upper windows in the Iacon Database, Megatron stared blankly out at the bustling city before him. Even though the war had ended eons ago, to the former warlord it had never felt like it was truly over. However the image of gleaming city laid out before him should have helped to convince him otherwise shouldn't it? No, though time had marched onwards for hundreds of vorns and the physical scars appeared to have healed across the planet's surface… appearances were deceiving and Cybertron was seeming to once again be spiraling into another dark age and the threat of yet another civil war began to loom ominously upon the horizon. He was only distracted from his dark thoughts by the sound of someone approaching him from behind and he glanced over his shoulder just in time to see the smaller form of Orion Pax approaching him. His arms were, as usual, full of datapads that he had been reviewing and organizing.

The former Autobot leader Optimus Prime had once again been regressed back to being Orion Pax, only this time it was a permanent regression. As the Matrix of Leadership had been forcefully torn from his frame by that demoness… but that story was in the past and it would have to remain that way. Dredging up those memories never led to anything but ill feelings and old regrets. Once the Iacon Database had been restored the Once-Prime returned to his old job. For he had never truly wanted to be anything else. Of course that had brought about a tidal wave of problems on its own, mostly in the form of his other self's teammates. Team Prime had been present for the events that had returned Optimus back to Orion Pax the second and final time, but just as the time before, Pax still had no memory of actually being Optimus Prime. His last memories were actually of Jack Darby presenting him with the key to Vector Sigma and then everything went dark until he had 'awakened' again. His former teammates, even though they remained supportive of him, when they'd tried to help him re-adjust to the newly restored world things had been… awkward. Orion knew that they only meant to be helpful to him and friendly. But when they would mention battles they had fought together and the happy memories that were shared between them and the human members of their team who had since become part of their 'family' these were memories he did not have… and he was not really a member of this family. They were Optimus's family not his. Although it was the farthest thing from what they had intended, everything they did only made him feel even more like an outsider. In the end the only ones he was able to really connect with were the individuals he had known back when he was Orion Pax, back when he was himself. His old friends, Ratchet and Soundwave and of course Soundwaves eldest son Ravage. But Orion, while glad for the familiar faces could not help but seek out Megatron as well.

After their run in with the demonic being, the 'Daughter of Unicron' who had not only stolen the Matrix of Leadership from Optimus, but also had silenced and bound Megatrons voice and strength. This left the former gladiator unable to fight again or utter a single word. It was a miserable fate for such a proud mech. Even after Cybertron had been restored via the white energon the she-demon had begrudgingly provided and their world was steadily being rebuilt by the refugees that were returning to the planet. The former Decepticon Warlord had retreated to the ruined city of Kaon, into what had remained of the old gladiatorial slave pits. He had gone back to the darkest most nightmarish place he could think of to hide away from everything and everyone. Sentencing himself to rot alone in his silent rage, humiliation and misery. The members of Team Prime would have only been too happy to let him do as he planned, but Orion wouldn't do that… he couldn't do that. Soundwave was also unwilling to let his former leader and friend disappear and wallow in his own private pit.

To condense a long story, over time Megatron eventually came out of his self-induced exile and when he did so, he came back with Orion. It was also revealed that he had bonded to Pax over that time. While it came as an unpleasant surprise to some, it was also an opportunity for the newly reformed council to gain some support from the populace. Since the wars end it was unsurprising that many of the returning soldiers on both sides were having a hard time accepting or even believing that all the strife and bloodshed had ended with the simple declaration that both sides had lost. Since Decepticons looked to their warlord as the Autobots looked to their Prime or in this case the mech who used to be Optimus Prime, both were appointed to look out for the interests of their respective faction. Megatron despised this arrangement from the beginning not only because he was rendered mute so any order or decree he gave to the Decepticons would have to be relayed through Soundwave; which called into question the orders authenticity, but because he found reestablishing the council in any form to be a bad idea. He was even more irritated to learn that Ultra Magnus had been named the new head of this council, and Magnus was not happy to have Megatron being allowed to join. In any case it was an arrangement that everyone was equally unhappy with, which may very well have been why that the shaky peace between the two sides had lasted as long as it did. But things were changing now, many would claim that everything was heading back down the same dark path that had led to the Great War in the first place and as Orion put away the datapads he had been carrying and turned to face his bonded. The look Megatron saw in his optics indicated that he too could see the darkness forming on the horizon.

"You probably already know, but there was another incident today." Orion said softly. "A group of six mechs got into a large brawl on the other side of the city. Three of them were arrested for disturbing the peace. The other three were not charged… and there have already been several violent protests because of this." Megatron turned away from the window to better face Pax, also letting the lights in the room better show his imposing frame which the only noticeable difference in his appearance was the battle mask which concealed the lower part of his face. Since he'd installed it he almost never took it off; it was a necessity to hide the stitches that the demon used to silence him. His pride forbid anyone to see the wretched things, but Orion could occasionally coax him to take the mask off. If only for the gesture to let his bondmate know that the disturbing sight did not bother him.

Megatron remained still for a few moments before he began making coordinated servo motions that were actually Cybertronian sign language. A relatively new development that had been almost entirely derived from the humans' sign language. 'Let me guess, the three who were arrested were former Decepticons while the three who were released were former Autobots.'

"Indeed." Orion confirmed, his voice low and worried. "Some witnesses say that originally the fight was just between two individuals but then the others joined in at some point and everything just went from bad to worse."

'And I take it that the Wolficon has already exploited this?'

Pax nodded slowly. "As soon as the details became public he started claiming that the police are favoring the Autobots over the Decepticons again. After he made these statements the riots started. It would be easier to dispute if he had not been right about such things in the past." The Wolficon that Orion was referring to was named Steeljaw and he was quickly becoming the new voice of the dejected and unhappy masses. He was a known former Decepticon and veteran of the war, and like many others he was extremely unhappy with the final results that the long conflict had yielded. But unlike others, he was gifted with a golden voice and when he spoke mecha listened. What was both frustrating and unnerving was that with every speech he gave, the mechs popularity grew… and the less the former Decepticons seemed willing to listen to Megatron.

The silver mech emitted a low growl before he cast another glance out the window he had been looking out earlier and Orion felt a flutter of dark amusement bleed across their bond before Megatron returned his attention to him and began signing again. 'The irony of this situation is not lost on me. Once I was in his position and now here I am trying to prevent the very movement I started from happening again.' He paused very briefly, a distant and cold look forming behind his red optics before he slowly continued. 'I find that I have become a hypocrite; …no… it's worse than that… I am a traitor to my own cause.'

"You're letting Steeljaws' words get to you." Orion commented as he moved closer to him. "You're not a traitor Megatron; you are trying prevent another war from arising because if that happens it will truly be the end of any chance we will ever have for peace. The bloodshed would never stop. Ultra Magnus has even-" No sooner had he mentioned Magnus's name did Megatron suddenly begin signing angrily, his motions undecipherable even to his mate. But even more noticeable than the former Warlords agitated movements was the look of rage now burning ferociously in his optics. A look that Orion had seen far more times than he wanted to admit. Megatron's voice had been muted and his strength stolen by the devil spawn of Unicron back on earth but his rage had not been. At times like this it was clear to see that his anger was still burning alive and well within his spark.

His silent tirade lasted for several more long minutes before he was able to register the look of worry on Orions face which caused the silver titan to pause and summon a great deal of effort to suppress his anger until it was replaced by a bitter numbness. After which he began to sign again, only this time it was much slower and understandable. 'Forgive me Orion, I didn't mean to seem angry at you. But please… don't speak of that fool to me.' It was nothing short of obvious to say that Magnus and Megatron were unable to look past their differences. In fact it may have been the understatement of the vorn. From the very beginning Magnus had made it no secret that he didn't trust Megatron at all, and when opportunities presented themselves he was always the first one to undermine Megatrons status within the council. Shooting down every proposal that the ex-Decepticon either presented or even so much as endorsed. The end result was a bitter hatred between them and a deep rift between the few Decepticons that had been chosen to be a part of the new council and its Autobot majority. In fact things were at such a tense point in time that the last three meetings had to be ended early on account of the debates dissolving into an all-out brawls.

"I did not think your anger was directed at me Megatron; I just hate seeing you so angry. It reminds me of… dark times."

'Dark times indeed. But at the rate things are going they're only going to get darker.' Although the words were silent they held a viscous strength to them. 'If there is any hope that we can avoid another war it's dying quickly. Sometimes I think that the only reason my Decepticons still listen to me is the due to my threat of summoning the Decepticon Justice Division to enforce my decrees.'

"But the DJD have been lost since before the war ended." Orion muttered darkly. "We're lucky that Steeljaw is unwilling to call your bluff."

'But he's not a fool, and the threat of my Justice Division will only go so far. Soon he will demand proof that they are still loyal to me, let alone alive. Honestly I believe the only reason he hasn't called my bluff yet is because that Mafia boss friend of his prevents him from doing so.' In all honesty when it was first discovered that Steeljaw had ties with Thunderhoof, one of Cybertrons most notorious and brutal crime bosses; it had made both the police force and the council suddenly take him far more seriously. It also added a whole new level of complications when it came to dealing with him. The wolficon always had at least two very large bodyguards with him whenever he was in the public's optic and after he'd fanned the flames of discord and before the police could detain him on the grounds of inciting violence, he'd quickly retreat back into Hoof's territory. The areas where even the police dared not venture into. It wasn't surprising that much of the areas Thunderhoof controlled were largely populated with former Decepticons or Neutrals, what was surprising was how complete his hold on the mecha who lived and worked in those neighborhoods was. Aside from being terrified of the Cervicon's near-legendary temper, many of these individuals held a genuine loyalty to him. As they believed he was in a better position to protect them and their families than the police force. So many were willing to choose a mob boss over the police, those whose job was supposed to be to protect and serve, somewhere out there Unicron was laughing at the darkness slowly consuming their world. There had been several attempts to take down Thunderhoof, all of which had failed spectacularly. In fact the most recent one had gone so horribly wrong that it had resulted in the deaths of dozens of officers and had unintentionally further divided their world's population.

That particularly disastrous mission had been authorized not by Prowl, the current head of the police force but by Contrail, one of the more prominent council members. The plan had entailed that several specially selected officers were to abduct Sables, a femme who held a very special position within Thunderhoofs organization... Namely she was the mob boss's mate. They'd succeeded in kidnapping her but had failed to factor in that she was no weakling. Wouldn't it have been logical to assume that anyone who had been known as the 'Blade Dancer' among the Decepticon ranks would probably be armed with multiple weapons at any given time? Sables had managed to escape her captors although she had reportedly sustained some severe injuries in the process… and that was when the bloodbath had begun. To start off all of the cops that had been involved in Sables kidnapping had been murdered and their families slaughtered. Then there was the attack on the Police Headquarters, in the form of a bomb going off and killing fifteen mecha and injuring a multitude of others. Prowl was amongst the wounded and even now several weeks after the incident he was still laid up in a hospital. But being a true workaholic he was still attempting to do most of his paperwork from his hospital berth. Much to the aggravation of Ratchet who was left with no other option but to leave his apprentice, a young mech named Cloud-9, in the room to make sure that the Praxian actually rested instead of trying to work.

Yet in spite of the living pit that the police force endured, Contrail got it worse than anyone. Somehow his role in Sables abduction had been found out and made public and well… apparently he had been brutally tortured for days in manners that were far too horrible to even think about before he was finally stomped to death. Which left no doubt in anyone's mind that the Cervicon had personally murdered the council member. But as with everything else he was involved in, there was no way to prove that he was behind any of it. Beit the bombing or Contrails murder, for each he had solid alibis. Not to mention that Steeljaw had caused a scene in Kaon when he had proclaimed how low the council had fallen as to get the police to target someone's pregnant mate! Witnesses even stated that when Steeljaw spoke his voice was full of genuine rage. It was the first time he had ever encouraged violence during one of his speeches and he'd gotten his wish in the form of a full-fledged riot which had taken over a week to calm down. Even now tensions were still running very high, what had happened today was proof enough of that.

"Regardless of how things look right now," Orion said softly as he gently took Megatrons servo. "there is still hope that things may yet change for the better." The larger mech just rolled his optics and shook his helm before pulling his servo from Orion's. Sometimes there simply was no need for Megatron to sign anything at all. Some looks and movements were universally understood and Orion didn't seem to care for this latest remark. "I'm serious Megatron. There is always a light in the darkness, even if it is nothing but a faint glimmer."

'Your hope is as ill-placed as it is blind. Where is this light now Orion? Where is this glimmer?'

Before Orion could respond to that frigid remark the sound of someone clearing their throat caught both of their attention. Silently approaching them was a young mech probably the equivalent of a twenty year old at the oldest. "Sorry I'm late, training ran longer today than I expected." When he spoke his voice was very clear, quiet and calm. As quickly as the pout had appeared on Orion's features it disappeared and was replaced with a warm smile.

"I was wondering what was keeping you Excalibur." Orion commented. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes Carrier everything is fine…" The young mech answered his voice barely raising from its quiet tone. "The other reason I'm late was that Wildcharge got into another fight and I had to break it up before he hurt someone."

The son of Megatron and Orion, Excalibur or sometimes just called Ex for short, was physically an amalgamation of both of his parents' characteristics. Although his frame type leaned more towards Megatons' particularly noticeable in the appearance of his pedes and sharp servos. The overall shape of his helm was again a mix between Orion Pax and Megatron but his face definitely held many more similarities to Pax, especially his large blue optics. He was slightly taller than his carrier but not by much, and when he opened his mouth it was clear to see that he had very sharp upper and lower canines. His coloration was almost entirely silver with only a few patches of dark blue here and there. He got his name when Orion had come across it while reading through some of the human race's mythology during his carrying. Megatron had admitted it had seemed to be a fitting name although the reasons for each of them liking it were vastly different. Orion Pax saw it to be a symbol of peace, while Megatron saw it to represent a weapon of incredible power. Either way, both of them liked the name and thus it stuck.

'You said Wildcharge got into another fight?' Megatron inquired and even though his words were silent it was hard to miss how he stressed the word 'another' indicating that this was something that happened frequently. 'You need to be careful around him. There will come a time when it won't matter if he's your friend, don't be in his way.'

"Your wrong sire, Wildcharge… he doesn't even mean to get into these fights. He just can't take being made fun of." His son tried to explain, knowing that he was doing a poor job of protecting his friends' appearance in his sire's optics.

Wildcharge was the half-Predacon son of Arcee and Cliffjumper; having gained his Predacon bloodline from Cliffjumpers' resurrected form as he'd been changed into one by the same demon that had silenced Megatron. Although no one would ever guess that there was the word 'half' in front of the Predacon. He was a very large frame, larger than Ex and there was some debate on whether or not he was taller than his sire. As he was if his horns were counted, but wasn't if they were not. He and Excalibur had been friends since their sparklinghood. He'd always been a mischievous but well-meaning youngling who had a real gift for making others laugh. But a darkness had always seemed to follow him wherever he went, a darkness that had taken form in a seemingly endless supply of bullies who never missed the opportunity to make fun of him because he was a Predacon... because he was different. When he was a youngling he had just laughed it off, never taken anything they said to spark. But as he grew older his tolerance to the teasing began to decrease and he became more and more angry. So much so that he began to start fights with anyone who teased him and with his powerful frame the fights quickly became one-sided and he would continue to brutally pound his tormentors until they were somehow separated. Needless to say this also caused a rift to form between him and his parents. Particularly with Cliffjumper; the easy going mech quickly found his patience driven to wits end with his sons constant fighting. In fact Wildcharge and his sire argued so often that at this point they just didn't talk or even acknowledge each other at all, even when they were in the same room. It drove Arcee mad and she did everything in her power to try and fix the broken relationship between her mate and son but that was proving to be a fruitless endeavor, especially since things had taken a turn for the worse as of late.

When they graduated from school both Wildcharge and Excalibur had sought jobs they could maintain while also training and studying to become police officers. Excalibur had a genuine interest in helping people while Wildcharge thought it might be something he could actually do and not screw up… Unfortunately for both of them the job searches were proving to be more difficult than either had initially expected. Ex had received a multitude of job offers; but only courtesy of everyone who was trying to win the favor of his parents. Wild found himself with the exact opposite problem, since between being a Predacon and having a reputation for a bad temper, he found no one was willing to hire him for even the most insignificant jobs.

So dead end after dead end, the two had nearly given up until they received some job offers on behalf of two of their other friends. A mech named Darkstar and a femme named Seraph. Job offers that led them straight to the gleaming towers of Vos. Straight to Starscream.

It wasn't all that surprising considering that Darkstar and Seraph were Starscream's own offspring, a pair of fraternal twins who shared their carriers' arrogance and snarky attitude. Darkstar moreso than his sister but that wasn't important; what was important was that the two young mechs were offered guard jobs by the Vosian ruler. Well-paying jobs, since they were friends with his son and daughter. Naturally Megatron wasn't happy that his son had to go to Starscream of all mechs in search of a job where he wouldn't be bothered by others to gain access to his parents. Since Vos was surprisingly the most peaceful area of Cybertron. It was a separate entity onto itself, ruled by its royal family and it had its own laws and customs which the council had no influence over. Due to this Starscream didn't seek anything from his former Warlord, he was just extremely smug and gloated about his generosity whenever any opportunities to do so presented themselves. Megatron begrudgingly tolerated it, for Excalibur's sake alone he did.

But there was a whole different world of issues when it came to Cliffjumper and Arcee. Which was why Wildcharge had conveniently failed to mention where he had finally found employment. He'd even done a pretty good job of keeping it a secret, until Starscream couldn't resist approaching the young mechs parents at some point, inquiring how their son was enjoying his new job that the Seeker had been so kind to offer. Something that was nothing short of a slap in the face to both of them. Especially considering that he'd clashed with Arcee numerous times during the war and he'd actually murdered Cliffjumper! No, this was one insult that neither of them were going to endure and they both demanded Wildcharge quit his job, considering the basic principle of the matter. Wild could have cared less if his sire hated his employer, but he could never say no to his carrier. So out of love for Arcee he gave it up; sad because he was finding that he actually enjoyed working at Vos since no one mocked him for being what he was there. And since that incident it was not that surprising that now a deep resentment towards his carrier was beginning to fester in his spark, like an open sore. Thus his relationship with his carrier was starting to fall apart as well. Megatron couldn't help but pity him… mostly because he could see that burning just beneath the surface, the young mech was developing a dark rage. One that with each passing day grew worse and worse. Honestly there were times that he even feared for Excalibur's safety. It wasn't simply him being overprotective, Megatron knew to be afraid because he had been there; been in a similar position to the young Predacon. He knew the pain harboring a rage like that inside a spark could inflict and he knew how destructive it could be if it was let loose. Knowing these things he didn't want his son to be anywhere near Wildcharge when he finally snapped.

"So you're home for the night then?"

"Um…" Excalibur began rubbing the back of his helm sheepishly. "Actually I was going to head down to the museum. Seraph asked me to come with her since Darkstar was staying in to play vid-games with Wildcharge. They're opening the new exhibit tonight and she didn't want to go see it alone. I was just coming back to check in and let you both know I was alright, on account of the protests and everything."

Two interesting facts here; first Wildcharge had also been forbidden to go anywhere near Vos, Starscream's bratty heirs and most importantly Starscream himself… so was it really surprising that he was spending as much time there as he possibly could? Frankly Wildcharge rarely went home anymore, usually staying with Excalibur and his parents, or Darkstar and Seraph in the Vosian Palace at the top of the towers. He had even bribed the janitor of their police academy to let him sleep there on more than one occasion. Virtually if he could do anything to avoid going home he would. Secondly and the fact that made Orion chuckle and Megatron groan in annoyance… Seraph was completely infatuated with Excalibur. She would flirt with him and go out of her way to spend time with him, especially alone if she could manage it. But there was always one big obstacle that usually ruined every attempt she made to get Excalibur's attention… Poor Ex was completely oblivious to all of her flirting and clueless to her true feelings. In many ways it was funny, in many ways it was sad. Seraph was not exactly subtle, granted she didn't exactly throw herself at him but her advances were obvious to anyone paying attention or who was not completely naïve. Ex only saw her as the friend he'd had for years and chalked up her flirtation to her being a bit more physical than others mecha were. In spite of her failed attempts at getting his attention, Seraph was stubborn. No doubt she wanted Ex to accompany her to the museum for more than just seeing the new Predacon fossil exhibits. Which consisted of dozens of fossils recently recovered from one of Shockwaves old hideouts, the exhibits main attraction was a pair of nearly intact skeletal frames, a dragon and a gryphon, embraced in death. The irony was not lost to anyone who remembered the events that had transpired back on the planet Urth... or however the humans used to spell it.

"If that's the case I hope you both have a good time. Oh and say hello to Seraph for me." Orion said encouragingly, honestly he thought that Seraphs crush on Ex was sweet and he would even encourage a relationship between the two. Provided of course that Ex ever realized the femmes advances and found that he returned her feelings.

The young mech nodded to his carrier but then looked to his sire, undoubtedly making sure it was alright with him as well. Seeing this Megatron merely added, 'Go, but be vigilant. If something seems wrong you come back immediately.' So once he was sure that it was alright with both his of parents, Excalibur turned and left just as quietly as he had come in.

After their son had left, Orion could not help but laugh slightly. "It's right there." His rather strange words earned him a confused glance from Megatron. "The glimmer of hope I mentioned, it's there inside Excalibur and all the others in his generation. Those who were born after the war ended, they're the hope we have for the future."

'Shame that there aren't any more new sparks coming forth from the well.' Now this made Pax wince. After everything was said and done, the All-Spark was still lost to the stars. The only individuals who knew where it had been sent off to were Alpha Trion and Optimus Prime. But Trion had vanished eons ago and Optimus was no more, leaving behind Orion who could not remember anything about where the All-Spark had been hidden. A legion of Decepticons and even a good many Autobots blamed the former Prime for the loss of such a vital part of their world. The guilt led Orion to do everything he possibly could to try and remember anything about what Optimus had done with it. He even took a trip to visit a mnemosurgeon… one who Megatron could have sworn he'd killed by the name of Trepan. Pax had hoped that maybe the location might have been locked away deep in his processor, but that turned out to be yet another fruitless endeavor. Of course the fact that Megatron had Soundwave literally looming over Trepan as the smaller mech worked with his tendrils out and ready to fry Trepans processor if there was even the slightest hint that something wasn't going right. That probably had not helped things. Even though Megaton's only real regret was that his curse prevented him from being able to finish what he'd started vorns ago in regards to that little bastard.

However the night after Orions trip to the surgeon he claimed to have had a strange dream… One where he said he saw the All-Spark floating in its impregnable container deep in space. Yet he was forced to watch as some sort of monstrous silver serpent silently appeared out of the aether, flanked by a pair of smaller black and white creatures of similar builds, it opened its gaping maw and swallowed the All-Spark whole before continuing on its way farther into the darkness of space. A rather disturbing dream to say the least. Still that was all it was chalked up to be, just a bad dream. Orion prayed with all of his spark that it was just a dream.

"If we could somehow find the All-Spark, I know that would also help give hope to all the mecha out there that things will change for the better." He whispered softly as he once again began to feel the pangs of guilt trying to creep back into his spark. "But even if we never find it, there is still a chance for our people to find peace." Megatron turned and looked his smaller mate dead in the optic and signed his next words very slowly. 'Deep down do you really believe that?'

"I have faith in it." Orion replied. "I have faith." Although there was a certain amount of certainty in his voice, hidden deep within Megatron could detect the slightest hints of doubt. But as it was buried so deep, his more optimistic partner was likely afraid to acknowledge it, in fear that his faith may crumble away into nothingness.

A silence fell between the mated pair, as they both knew all too well that their people desperately needed something more than Orion's faith…

Faith that was quickly going blind…

---

The agreed meeting place was a rundown, long abandoned building…

Swindles smile remained as cheerful and as confident as it had been when he'd first arrived. He was perfectly calm, even in spite of the glaring Cervicon sitting directly across from him. He was well aware of just how dangerous this situation was and yet he just couldn't bring himself to be afraid. Especially considering that found himself with such an advantage over one of the deadliest mechs on all of Cybertron. "While I do enjoy a meeting for any potential business ventures," the merchant said and his voice was still jovial and his trademark grin showing no sign of leaving anytime soon. "but in this case I find that your terms are so terrible I'd swear this was more of a shakedown more than any kind of negotiation."

Thunderhoof's optics narrowed and he continued to radiate an aura of growing annoyance and displeasure. "Call it whatever yous want Swindle; point is that I'm interested in…" He paused for a moment as he searched for just the right word. "lets just say 'investing' in your business."

The smaller mech chuckled. "Well that's very flattering coming from a mech of your position Mr. Hoof." He remained polite enough, but there was a slightly darker undertone concealed within his voice. "But at this point in time I'm not seeking any investors. And even if I was I would certainly NOT accept offer even half as bad as the one you just laid out. I mean a 70-30 split of my organization and its profits with everything leaning in your favor? Certainly you must be joking."

"I ain't jokin' around, and yous seem to be misunderstandin' me. For some reason you're thinkin' that you have some choice in the matter." The mafioso's voice also took on a darker tone, only unlike his associate he didn't try in the slightest to hide it. That was when Swindle became aware of two hulking frames approaching him from behind and he cast a half interested glance over his shoulder to get a better look at the pair. The first he was able to identify as one of Thunderhoofs long time lackeys, a menacing looking Dinobot toting a large hammer, obviously Scowl. The other was a large Buffaloid, whom Swindle knew used to work for Contrail. What was his name again? Oh right Terrashock; funny the rumors were that he'd changed employers shortly before Contrails rather untimely and gruesome demise. Still this information was of no importance to Swindle who merely shrugged. Not even remotely intimidated by the sudden appearance of the mob boss's muscle. "Now then, we will resume our discussions."

"Actually…" Swindle said standing up from his seat. "I believe we're done here. So sorry to have to leave but I am very busy-" As he tried to leave he found his path to be blocked by the thugs and he could also feel Thunderhoof rising up from his seat in order to loom menacingly over him.

"Don't yous DARE turn your back on me!" he snapped, it looked like he could have murdered Swindle right then and there. Heck he very well might have, if not for a multitude of weapons suddenly activated and within a second Swindle had gone from scrawny little mech to armed-to-the-teeth and ready to blow everyone in the room straight to the pit.

"Really Thunderhoof I had thought that we could be civil with one another. I had been interested in doing business with you for some time now; I figured since your empire was expanding you might need a new supplier for weaponry. Maybe some of the larger harder to come by merchandise? But it would seem that you're more interested in my special-import business; now why would that be?"

"Why?" Thunderhoof growled, but exercising his rarely used restraint he vented deeply before sitting back down in his chair. "That slag you peddle is worth a fortune! Moreso than most of your weapons sales; statues crafted from crystal that ain't native to Cybertron or any of the colonies, cloth no one can identify or replicate… and that energon-"

"If you're like any of my other high-end clients I'd be willing to bet fifty credits that you probably have a bottle of Ambrosia Energon either in your desk or subspace right now." Swindle said smugly. "If you don't I'd be happy to sell you some; one bottle for a thousand credits. Normally I would offer a discount to potential clientele but since your employees are still ready to attack me, I think I'll withhold that said discount." The crime lord emitted a low, menacing growl. But after a moment he gave Terrashock and Scowl a look, to which they both backed away from Swindle and went to stand at the two opposite corners of the room; to await any further orders from their boss. Content with this motion Swindle deactivated his weaponry. "See isn't this better? Now we can talk like rational business mecha. It's so much more cultured."

"Don't push your luck."

"Very well. However it just dawned on me your logic; due to Contrails death you've already taken virtually all of his territory and that means every one of his less than legal 'business ventures' are now yours. That's quite a big gain for you financially. I'd say you're probably looking for a squeaky clean and reputable front to launder most of those credits." He snickered slightly. "That, or your just a very greedy mech."

Thunderhoof snorted. "First, nothing that has your name attached to it could ever be referred to as 'clean.' Second, does it really matter which one it is?"

"Not really." The arms dealer admitted with a slight shrug. "Although your newly acquired fortune aside; it does say something about the mental capacity of Cybertrons police force for not one of them to be able to realize that a member of the Council was up to his optics in illegal activities."

"Most of 'em are either too stupid to realize it, or they are told to keep their mouths shut by their higher-ups. Heh, sometimes I almost feel sorry for Prowl, more than half of his department is on my payroll and he's wonderin' how come nothin' ever gets done. To bad." The mere thought of this brought a cruel smile to the mob boss's face.

"Anyways," Swindle continued on. "regardless of just which one of my current endeavors is the most profitable and overlooking how you just tried to screw me over… I may still be interested in doing business with you in the future." Well, this rather strange announcement got him a raised optic ridge from Thunderhoof although he said nothing, for which the merchant continued on. "But unfortunately I am running late for another meeting. You see I have to meet with some of my other clientele, seems that there are a few individuals who want to purchase some of my more impressive weapons for their ship. We'll just have to talk at another time." And with that he turned around to leave. Terrashock and Scowl began to make moves to get in his way but a quick motion from their employer stopped them from doing anything. Still Swindle did pause for a moment and cast a glance back at the crime lord, although for once his smirk was absent. "Next we meet it will be on my terms, my expensive terms and at a location of my choosing." Now his voice was cold, devoid of all its usual snarkiness and his tone was all too clearly meant to be taken as a warning. He was not a mech to be trifled with, even the most idiotic low level crook on Cybertron knew that. But once in a great while Swindle found that some mecha needed to be reminded of this fact; fortunately it rarely took more than a change in his demeanor to get his point across. So the point being made his smile returned and he quickly added, "Oh and congratulations to both you and your mate on your coming sparkling! I do hope everything goes smoothly. I'll have a gift sent over when I have less pressing matters to attend too." And with that he left, actually he started whistling no sooner than he walked out the door.

An uncomfortable silence lingered for several long minutes; both of Thunderhoofs underlings taking note of their bosses still rapidly mounting anger and they were both getting a little worried that should the Cervicon decide to throw a tantrum that they'd be right in his destructive path. But just when it looked like he was ready to start smashing up his desk, and quite possibly them, a nearby bookcase slid away revealing not only a secret passageway leading to other areas within the building but also revealed that Sables had apparently been there listening in on the entire exchange.

"He really is a smug little glitch isn't he?" She muttered darkly. Her voice sounded like ice, dark and cold. Physically Sables was an averaged sized Praxian whose color scheme was predominantly silver, but had a few splashes of black and green mixed in. Her optics were an unusual color of pale jade with the slightest hints of blue. If one looked very carefully at her forearms one might be able to make out the tips of several concealed blades, no doubt part of her preferred fighting method if her nickname was anything to go by. However there was something odd about her appearance because running across her chassis were several fresh weld marks, as well as several other types of wounds of varying severity. While it was noticeable that these injuries were healing they still looked incredibly painful. But once her presence was known Thunderhoofs temperament rapidly changed gears and he went from raging to worried in less than three seconds.

"Yous should be resting Sables." He said softly, yes softly. A tone neither Scowl nor Terrashock had ever heard him use before. Of course that may have been because he had forgotten that they were both still in the room… and once he remembered that he made an abrupt wave of his hand, indicating for the two of them to get lost. Which they hastily did and once they were both gone he returned his attention to Sables. "Yous shouldn't even be here, so why-"

"I'm fine Thunder, stop worrying my big handsome mate." She chuckled as she wrapped her arms around Thunders neck and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek. "Besides… I wanted to meet your new business acquaintance."

"You've already met Swindle before."

"Not him…" Sables muttered as her optics began to slowly scan her surroundings. "I'm talking about the other individual in this room. You know, the one that even Swindle didn't know about. So tell me, where is this thief of yours?"

After a moment of rather stunned silence, there was a sound that could only be described as a cross between a snort and a laugh. "Are we gettin' rusty?" The new voice chimed with mild amusement before five forms made themselves known from various locations within the room and amidst the clutter. Within a few seconds they had assembled themselves to form a single mech, more specifically Chop Shop. One of the most skilled thieves on Cybertron. "Of course ya' could have jus' told yer' girl that we was meetin' here tonight."

"With a reputation as impressive as yours is, I figured you were either nearby or already here. And since stealth is so important to a thief's craft... it was not hard to guess which one it was."

"My Sables is just extra perceptive." Thunderhoof stated proudly. "But back to business; since I wasn't able to convince Swindle to willingly let me in on his so called enterprise, I'm just gonna have to put him out of business." He reached into one of the drawers in his desk only to pull out an extremely ornate glass bottle, it was teardrop shaped and was accented with beautiful platinum inlays. Within this bottle shone a beautiful glowing golden liquid. Between the gilded bottle and the unique color of the energon in it, this was something that anymech would recognize on sight. Even though very few have actually had the privilege of seeing it, let alone tasting it.

"Ambrosia Energon." The thief identified, all four of his eyes widening in a bit of shock. He may have been able to get a glimpse of the stuff at the parties held by High-Society mecha, places that he would usually case before he robbed them blind. But alas he was among the masses who had never had the luck, nor the credits, to actually taste it. It was then that a thought occurred to him and he couldn't help but snicker slightly and look at the Mafia boss with a bemused grin. "Guess Swindle was right about you having some in your desk."

"Shut it." The Cervicon muttered as he also pulled out three small glass cubes and he began to pour a small amount into one before offering it to Chop Shop who did not hesitate to take it. He then poured some for himself although he filled his cube with considerably more than what he had just offered the thief.

"None for me," Sables said before her mate could waste any on her. "I'm afraid with how my tank has been lately I won't be able to keep it down." She got a rather queasy look immediately after the words left her mouth. Unfortunately thinking about how weak and unpleasant her tank was brought about a small bout of nausea, although she was fortunate in that it passed quickly.

Still as quickly as the unpleasant nausea passed, Chop Shop did take notice of her discomfort. "Low grade with silver shavings in it should help with that love." He stated rather bluntly, as he took a sip of the Ambrosia. Although his apparent knowledge of the subject caused Sables to raise an eye ridge questioningly.

"And you would know this how?"

The spider mech shrugged as he proceeded to drink down the rest of the exotic fuel before putting the empty cube down on Thunders' desk. "Had a kid brother; his mum couldn't keep anything but that down through most of her carryin' cycle."

"What a pleasant thought." She groaned, silently praying to Primus that she would not have to endure a queasy tank for her entire pregnancy… that and also that her sparkling didn't already have fully formed antlers when they were ready to come out.

"Back to what we was talkin' about." Thunderhoof grunted, promptly returning the conversation to where it was supposed to be. "Now we've already discussed the terms of our little 'business deal' yous' are gonna follow that smug little prick-"

"An' find out where an' who all his suppliers are." Chop Shop interrupted. "From all the special energon, to the statues, to the jewels, to all the other fragging junk and baubles that only he sells. It's that stuff that you want in on sellin'. After all he's the only mech on Cybertron who won't give in to your demands and cut ya' in on his business and you can't find his suppliers to take control and burn down his whole enterprise."

"You should be careful to show me more respect if I was you's." Thunderhoof warned. With the day he'd been having, dealing with Swindle and a multitude of other inconveniences his patience for annoying mecha was beginning to run out. "I've offed bots for less in the past."

"But ya won't." Chop Shop smugly countered. "'Cause you're getting' a deal on this lil' arrangement of ours." In the blink of an optic the large arachnid mech's expression changed, going from amused to dead serious. "We'll find out where Swindle gets his stuff and you will-"

"And in return two mechs will have some very unfortunate accidents." Thunderhoof said, as he removed a pair of files from his subspace, placing them on his desk before opening them up and showing the data on two different mechs. One was a large rotund mech with blue optics, a thick beard and a dark green and grey color scheme. The second was a smaller mech but still fairly tall, he also had blue optics but his color scheme was a bright orange with black and grey to a lesser extent and he also had a very samurai look to his armor plating. "These two guys, named Hound and Drift right?"

"That's them."

"Rumors have started going around that you tried to kill the one named Drift yourself, but he kicked your aft instead." Sables injected, and even though her words earned her an annoyed glare from Chop Shop, she couldn't help but smile with wicked amusement while she casually flipped through Drifts file. "Now to me that's strange since you're a thief. Normally your marks don't get hurt physically. So what did these two do to warrant you wanting them dead?"

"Let's just say that it's a matter of revenge and leave it at that." The red mech grunted coldly and looked away for a moment. He had no intentions of saying anything further on the subject but it was obvious that whatever the reason was, it must have cut deep.

Still none of that was important or had any bearing on their arrangement and Thunderhoof dismissed his own curiosity on the subject. "You's are right. This arrangement is a steal; with what Swindle gets for his merchandise in just a month is worth more than what most mecha make in a century. The lives of two worthless nobodies is nothin' compared to those kinds of profits. Profits I have every intention of getting my servos on." He explained while flashing a truly vicious smile. Although he didn't show it, that look gave Chop Shop a very unpleasant chill up his spinal struts. Inwardly he couldn't help but wonder just how many mecha whose last sight was seeing Thunderhoof smiling like that before he offlined them. It was one of those things he got the feeling he was considerably happier not knowing the answer to.

"A deals a deal, we'll let ya know when we've found Swindles suppliers. But we warn ya' it might take some time to find 'em. So in the meantime you'll take care of one of the two bastards?" There was a brief flash of some unreadable emotion within the mobsters' optics; and Chop Shop was unsure if it was some form of amusement or anger. And unwilling to take a gamble on which one it was, the thief was extra careful as he chose his next words. "It would be a form of down payment you might say. After all I am pretty much doin' this 'ere job for free."

The crime lord quietly contemplated this for several minutes, all while his crimson optics bored into the spider mechs, as though seeing if he'd back off of the 'down payment' option. When he didn't Thunderhoof smirked and chuckled slightly. "Alright fine, the one named Hound dies first. Yous' gotta get me the information I want before my boys will handle Drift. He's the tougher of the two. But…" he said, his tone suddenly becoming colder than a tundra. "If I live up to my end of this arrangement and yous don't, well… let's just say that I'll personally make you wish that you were never sparked. Capisce?"

"You bloody well made yer' point." Chop Shop stated flatly, right before he regained his snarky smile. "Still thanks for the drink. 'Till next time then." Without any warning, he suddenly divided into his five spider components which proceeded to disappear out of the buildings various exits… all except for one spider which seemed a little more confused about which way it should go before finally giving up and leaving through the buildings main door.

After watching the five smaller segments of Chop Shop finally leave, he cast an unamused glance at Sables. "That… that is some Kaon-born weird right there."

"He's from Kaon?" She inquired.

"Probably, all the really weird mecha can find origins goin' back to the slave experiments that went on down there. 'specially beast breeds like Dinobots, Buffaloids-"

"Wolficons and Cervicons." Sables finished. Her jade optics seemed to become a bit more tired than they had been through the entire exchange with Chop Shop. Although she paused for a moment as a thought occurred to her. "Do you really think he'll be able to find where Swindle gets all of his merchandise?"

"If he does then that's another wave of new income for us; if he doesn't… well there ain't no real loss on our end. And I get to off him as a bonus." He muttered as he rubbed his optics. Sables was not the only one who was getting tired. But unlike his mate, Thunderhoof had been avoiding sleep like the Cybionic Plague and it was starting to worry the femme. She placed her servo upon his shoulder, drawing the Cervicons optics over to hers and he could see the worry shining clearly within them.

"You know, in the long run none of that matters Thunder." She said softly. "We don't need the credits, your biggest competitor is offlined and rusting, and after what you did to the police no one in their right processor would even think about challenging you."

"Accept it ain't enough. Not yet." He muttered. "The credits may be rolling in, but I want to ensure they keep comin'. If I was able to acquire Swindles merchandise I could steal away all his clientele."

"And make an enemy out of the walking arsenal." Sables replied flatly. "Frankly, I'd give up our entire fortune just to have you safe and home at night."

"Eyo, whose worryin' too much now?" Thunderhoof joked, earning him an annoyed huff from Sables although she eventually just shook her helm and sighed.

"Alright, alright but please come home now. I'll make you dinner if you do." She tempted her mate. Although judging by how he cringed at the thought of her preparing any kind of food was on the same tier as physical torture.

"I'll come home but I'm cooking. Sorry Sables but your food is… um… only for mecha of certain tastes." Hoof said, hoping it was the nicest way he could possibly say to his mate that she was probably the worst cook on Cybertron. Judging by the half-irritated, half-amused glare he got from her he was at least partially successful and eventually she did laugh a little bit.

"Actually… I was hoping that you'd say that, because Steeljaw offered to cook me dinner tonight. I'm honestly not sure what it was that he was making, but I left when the smell of burning tar started making me feel sick." He explained as he stood up, his stiff frame creaking in discomfort. Probably resulting from his growing weariness. Ok, maybe there was one cook worse than Sables on Cybertron. Although to be fair the Wolficon's cooking usually ended up burnt to a crisp and completely inedible. Meh, maybe it balanced out. Either way Thunderhoof cringed once again at the thought of Steeljaw attempting to cook something in his home. An incredible public speaker and cunning strategist he was… capable of making anything other than a cy-nutbutter sandwich he was not. And he since didn't eat cy-nutbutter sandwiches as said sandwich usually took him at least an hour to get off the roof of his mouth, he was incapable of preparing anything more than a standard cube of energon. It was kinda sad really.

Though some would find it odd that Steeljaw was actually allowed to freely come over to the crime lords' residence odd, in reality it was not an uncommon event. Even before he had become so well known. The three of them had known each other for eons. The three having come up together from the slums of Lower Iacon, long before the war had started. Thunderhoof had started as nothing more than a lowly thug working for some other underworld figure, but from the shadows he watched and learned how to run things on his own. He had just started to make a name for himself when the war started, and he continued to do so in combat. His strength making him as brutal in a fight as he was intimidating. Steeljaw on the other servo had more luck staying on the right side of the law prior to the outbreak of the war, but being a Wolficon, a lowly 'beast breed' his life was made difficult by most 'normal' mecha. So when the war began his true talents for strategy and leadership stole the stage. He had led the troops under his command to victory, mostly because he was so severely underestimated by his adversaries. Sables, much like Steeljaw, had spent much of her pre-war life attempting to live honestly and she had an easier time of it because she was an attractive femme Praxian. But she'd always had a rotten opinion of her fellow Cybertronians, due to how shamefully treated her two dear friends and over time many swore that she had solid ice in her sparkchamber. When she joined the Decepticons she was placed under Steeljaws command and he utilized her agility and stealth as a lethal assassin. She was all too happy to sneak into an enemy base and silently slaughter her targets in a violent flurry of blades.

When the war finally ended, Thunderhoof was quick to draw his two old friends into his employ. So a long story made short Thunders empire was thriving far beyond anyone's wildest imaginings and he had taken Sables as his mate and Steeljaw remained his most trusted friend and advisor. And when the Wolficon had begun speaking out against the council, Thunderhoof provided him with the protection he needed. Although he was also benefiting from Steeljaws movement, as it helped his public image. Mob boss or not, mecha could easily be led to see him in a positive light and he'd use this loyalty to further his own personal agendas. Speaking of which he just remembered… something else. Something he had tried not to think about, but it's resurfacing in his processor was inevitable.

"Sables, did the doc say… if the sparkling was damaged when yous was captured?" He spoke in a low voice, barely audible. But Sables heard him as clear as day and she visibly tensed, her doorwings fluttering in a bit of disdain at the question. Honestly she'd hoped he'd forget to ask her about this.

"I've been to two different medics and both have said the same thing... my gestation tank did sustain damage. But at this point it's far too early to know anything for sure." She explained, careful to keep her voice steady and calm. "However when I spoke with Pharma, he assured me that if there had been any significant damage I would have miscarried by now. So there is a high probability everything is fine."

"High probability don't guarantee nothin's wrong."

"Please; please can we not talk about this now." Her voice waivered slightly for a moment… only a moment, but it offered a glimpse that she was frightened. It didn't take Thunder long to realize that he'd made a mistake of some magnitude.

Before he could let her processor linger on these thoughts he caught her by the servo and pulled her close to large chassis in a tight hug. She didn't fight him, in fact the light in her optics dimmed as she just tried to pull her thoughts away from the possibility of something being wrong with their sparkling. They just stayed like that for a while, how long neither were really sure. But when it became too much Thunderhoof was the one finally broke the deafening silence. "I almost lost both of yous that day." He muttered tightening his grip on her. "Never was so fraggin' scared in all my life. Not even when I was in the trenches durin' the war."

"Thunder…"

"I promised yous that I'd never let anythin' happen to you. But then-"

She placed her servo over his mouth, stopping her mate from continuing with his trail of thought. "You've never broken any promise you ever made me, not once in all the long vorns we've known each other. You're a good mech my love; to the mecha who matter you are a good mech. And you have never once given me any reason to doubt you.""

"Then I never will… that's a promise." And with that he too her servo and kissed it, like the gentleman he could be only when he wanted to. No one aside from Sables and Steeljaw had ever seen this side of the mobster and no one else ever would.

Their lives were darker than most, they lived in a world where strength was measured by ruthlessness and bloodshed…

But that did not mean they were devoid of love.

But little could all these individuals, who were little more than threads in the tapestry of fate could imagine that soon their lives would be woven together and nothing would ever be the same again.

The gears of fate were turning…

This chapter has been in the works for so long, I could have left it smaller or even broke it down into two chapters but in the end I just opted for the one mega-long chapter so things can really get rolling in the next one. Due to the fact I am currently back in college with my current workload I hope to be able to crank out an update once every two weeks. I'm not gonna lie though, the more feedback I get the more that might motivate me to get chapters done quicker. Also I am also sure that anyone familiar with Skyrim or the Elderscrolls will probably recognize some of the things I threw in here. Well there are actually going to be A LOT of Skyrim references in here along with elements of 'Primal Rage'… I'll be impressed if anyone remembers that without using Google… and of course RID2015 and maybe a few other odd things thrown in here and there just for fun and I'll see if anyone can catch them when I do :3

Now to all the readers who read this and still really understand what's going on like I said at the top this story is a sequel to another fic I wrote called 'Not Alone.' Looking back on that story now, even though I love it and I loved writing it, I'll admit that there were really some problems with my writing… so if you want to go and read it be my guest. Just know that I am planning on rectifying all the problems I had with my writing and this story is going to be infinitely better. That is what I am striving for.

As to be expected I own nothing accept for the plot and any OC's that show up and also please remember to Read and Review! ^_^ Also constructive criticism is welcome, unconstructive flames are completely ignored…