THE NEXT MORNING…

It was daybreak. As soon as Megatron opened his optics, he saw something startling—so startling that he yelled with surprise and tumbled out of bed, right onto the floor.

There was Tomato, sitting on the bed. He had been staring into his new master's optics, waiting for him to wake up.

"It's morning!" Tomato cried happily, hopping off the bed and bounding over to Megatron, who was still lying on the floor. "Now we can do stuff again!"

"Tomato!" hollered Megatron, sitting up. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Well, it's a new solar cycle," Tomato informed him. "So it's time to wake up!"

"Umm…okay, I guess." Megatron lifted himself up off the floor and followed Tomato, who was already on his way out of Megatron's room. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To get some oilcake for breakfast!" Tomato replied. "To the kitchen…AWAY!"

Megatron groaned and headed to the kitchen, trailing after Tomato.

Pausing in front of the refrigerator for a moment, Tomato asked, "Um, you do have oilcake, right?"

"No, we don't," Megatron told him coldly. "But we have oil and dark energon. Knock yourself out."

"What's dark energon taste like?" asked Tomato. "I've never had any before…in fact, as far as I know, we didn't even have any on our ship."

"It tastes like regular energon, only stronger," Megatron said casually.

"Well, let's try some!" Tomato told him excitedly. "I'll have one glass, please."

Megatron shook his head as he began to fill two champagne glasses with dark energon (one for Tomato, one for himself). As he did so, he wondered if he really should give Tomato the Decepticon brand just yet. Maybe he wasn't so ready. Maybe he needed more training beforehand. Maybe he wouldn't even be able to tolerate his breakfast.

Stupid kid, Megatron thought, looking over at Tomato, who was looking back at him with that same innocent grin on his face. After thinking it over for a few cycles, Megatron decided that if Tomato was able to handle dark energon like a real mech, he would become the newest recruit this solar cycle. But if not, he would have to go through some more training first, before the Branding Ceremony would be allowed to occur.

Tomato looked excited as Megatron set the dark energon-filled champagne glass in front of him.

"Drink up," Megatron said, sitting down and drinking a big gulp from his own glass.

Without hesitation, Tomato held the champagne glass up to his face, then (just like Megatron) basically chugged it, apparently not realizing that, considering how much smaller he was, that it was probably better for him to drink it in little sips.

Tomato automatically swallowed the huge amount of dark energon he had put in his mouth, but as soon as he had, he began coughing violently and, falling out of his chair, collapsed on the rug.

"So, pretty good then, Tomato?" Megatron asked, smirking, as Tomato climbed back into the chair and struggled not to blow a gasket.

"That's…that's dark," Tomato mumbled, wiping his mouth off with his one servo.

"Oh, that reminds me," Megatron said, looking at the place where Tomato's still-missing arm used to be. "I have to order you a replacement arm soon."

Tomato coughed a little bit more, but then he sat up straight and stared at the wires poking out of his arm hole.

"Oh! Right! I forgot, too!" Tomato rubbed the socket, then winced with pain as his remaining servo brushed against the sensitive, damaged circuitry. "But how will we find another one?"

"There's a Decepticon hospital over in Iacon where we can get you one," Megatron replied. "You'll need both your arms for your training."

"I can't wait to go to Iacon," said Tomato happily. "Even if it is only to get a new arm."

"Speaking of Iacon…" Megatron sighed and looked around. "Do you know if Starscream and Blitzwing have returned from clubbing yet?"

"Who?" asked Tomato.

"The Decepticons you met last solar cycle," Megatron explained. "Have they returned home yet?"

"No idea." Tomato shrugged. "I hardly even know them."

"I haven't seen them all morning, either," Megatron told him. "So I don't know what they think they're—"

As if on cue, Megatron and Tomato heard the sound of the ship's air lock opening and closing, and footsteps on the metal floor.

"Hello, everyone!" Blitzwing's Random face screeched, darting into the kitchen, apparently very high on fizzy energon. "My, my, a crazier night I have not yet experienced!"

"Blitzwing was the life of the party, as usual," added Starscream, rolling his optics, as he followed his compatriot into the room. "But guess who scored?"

Holding onto Starscream's right arm was a rather naughty-looking Autobot femme. She was all different shades of green, with the exception of her shining gold arms and legs. She walked over to Megatron and brushed up against him, a little suggestively.

"So, this is the big scary Lord Megatron I've heard so much about," she said in her sultry voice.

Megatron growled and shoved her off. "What exactly did Starscream tell you?"

"Oh now, don't you worry, he feels basically the same way the Autobots feel about you, sweetie," the femme cooed, and Megatron heard Starscream laughing.

"DON'T CALL ME SWEETIE!" Megatron hollered. "Starscream, if you don't stop bringing these femme-bots home with you without asking for my permission, I swear I will—"

"It seems as though she likes you, my liege!" Blitzwing howled.

"Oh, no, I will stick with the one with the talent," the femme whispered, and walked back to Starscream.

"When's your next Monitor Duty shift, Starscream?" asked Megatron, knowing perfectly well that Starscream had bailed on him last solar cycle.

"Aw, scrap," Starscream said, slapping himself in the forehead. "Time to jet, honey."

The femme kissed Starscream goodbye, leaving a red lip-stain mark on his cheek, and left the spaceship. Starscream went to the refrigerator to pour himself some dark energon. Blitzwing, all this time, had been watching and screeching with crazed laughter.

"Ooh, she was zee hot one, eh, Starscream?" asked Blitzwing, taking another sip of fizzy energon.

"Where did Blitzwing get fizzy energon?" Megatron asked sternly. "You know I don't allow it. It always makes him crazy."

"Oh, he steals it from the club all the time," Starscream explained, shrugging.

Megatron glared at Blitzwing, who was drinking more fizzy energon, and snatched the bright-pink container away. "That's enough!"

"I'll tell you when I've had enough!" Blitzwing snapped, switching momentarily to Hothead mode, grabbing the container back, then turning back to Crazy.

Megatron growled again, then said, sharply, "Fine!"

"So…what did you guys do last night?" asked Tomato. Megatron, Starscream, and Blitzwing all looked over to him at the same time. His optics (which had turned from bright blue to red after being scanned to Megatron's fusion cannon) were about as big as saucers.

"Oh, you know, we had, um…nothing," Starscream told him.

Tomato's head was still turned sideways with intense curiosity. "Who was she?"

"It doesn't matter," said Megatron. "Starscream, get your aft to the main monitor room, you've got Monitor Duty today. Blitzwing, put that fizzy energon away immediately. Tomato, come with me, we're going to have to get your replacement arm."

Cybertron's sun was shining brightly by the time Megatron arrived with Tomato at the hospital. They stepped inside, and it seemed to be a very busy day. Megatron didn't mind that it was busy, because if the Decepticon leader wanted a replacement arm, then for Spark's sake, he was going to get it right now! Tomato, as usual, seemed to be lost in another world.

Megatron and Tomato waited in the reception area, Tomato swinging his remaining arm absentmindedly, Megatron tapping his fingers impatiently on the desk. After a cycle or two, a receptionist-bot walked in.

"Welcome to Iacon Decepticon Medical Care, how can I—oh, Megatron!" said the receptionist, looking shocked, then smiling quickly. "We'll get you to a medic right away."

"That would be nice, if you wouldn't dawdle any longer," Megatron told her coldly.

"You look fine to me, my Lord," the receptionist replied. "What seems to be the problem?"

Silently, Megatron pointed with his fusion cannon down at Tomato, who was hiding behind Megatron's foot.

"Oh, you poor little thing!" the receptionist cooed, bending down and pulling on Tomato's servo. "I never knew you had a son, Megatron! And he is adorable! Oh, are you missing your arm, little baby? Well, don't you worry none, we'll get a new one for you quicker than you can say—"

"First of all," Megatron interrupted impatiently, "he's not my son, he's my trainee. And second of all, you don't need to gush over how cute he is. Just give him an arm so we can actually start the training already."

"We'll get him to a medic bot right away, my liege," the receptionist told Megatron quickly. "Can I have his name?"

"Tomato!" piped up Tomato.

The receptionist looked surprised at Tomato's odd name, but she wrote it down in her book anyway. After what felt like a whole megacycle of waiting, a blue-and-white medic bot walked into the room.

"Tomato?" he said.

"All right, Tomato," Megatron said, pushing Tomato off his seat without looking up from his magazine. "Go get your arm."

"You're not coming with me?" asked Tomato.

"Why would I be?" Megatron replied. "I'm not getting a new arm today."

Tomato shrugged and walked with the medic bot out of the room. Megatron focused on his magazine, still, but he was waiting for Tomato to come back to the waiting room. The magazine was at least six lunar cycles old, and besides, he already knew all the torture methods that were listed in it. It was boring.

"How long has it been?" Megatron snapped to the receptionist.

"I-I, um…oh, look, it's time for my lunch break!" the receptionist said hurriedly, running away from her desk. Megatron frowned and tried to keep reading, and finally, Tomato came back into the room.

"Thanks, medic!" he cried after him. "Look! Look, I got a new arm! See? See? It's dark-red, just like my old one! See? See? See?"

"Yes, I see, Tomato," Megatron said flatly.

"It didn't hurt at all, though," Tomato continued. "I thought it would hurt, but he shocked me with this laser thingy and—"

"You mean an EMP generator," Megatron explained. "Electro-Magnetic Pulse. It numbs pain. All medic bots have one."

"Cool," said Tomato. "Well, anyway, do you like my new arm?"

"Um…sure," Megatron told him, even though it didn't look any different from his old arm. "So let's go back to the ship. We have to start your training."

TO BE CONTINUED…