Disclaimer: Do not own TF franchise.
WARNING: Poorly edited. I apologize in advance. D:
XIII
(i)
Rising out of recharge has never been so slow and difficult before.
My systems activated one by one. My processors carefully monitored their progress. They ran detailed diagnostics, which was why, when I regained partial awareness, I remained unable to move. My optics could be activated, but my sight was heavily impaired. I could distinguish where there was light and darkness. However, everything beyond that was a heavy blur, made up of large shapes and blotches of faded colours.
Someone was carrying me. That someone was a ground pounder. I could tell from how clumsily he held me. My wings were uncomfortable, angled awkwardly on my back to allow a thick arm to wrap under my torso. Another thick arm hooked under my knee joints, and my peds swung minutely, dangling in the air.
My helm was resting on warm, hard plating, which emitted a quiet, strumming noise. It was the sound of a spark, I thought, and, based on its proximity, I assumed that I was leaning against the ground pounder's chassis.
I could feel restraints around my wrists, but I could not remember why they were there. I tried to turn my helm to get a better grasp of my surroundings, but there was little I could see, my optics only functioning at approximately twenty-five percent. I shifted a little, and watched with slight confusion as a large blot of red tilted down from above me. Twin orbs of bright, blue light peered down, and their hue was hypnotizing.
Someone was speaking. I could only assume that it came from the ground pounder who was carrying me, because I could not see anyone else around. My vocalizer was still offline, so I could not reply. Even if I could, I would not have known what to say. My processors were drenched in fatigue. My consciousness was slipping. I stared blankly at the floating, blue orbs until everything faded to darkness once more, and I slept, exhaustion heavy on my systems.
The next time I gained partial awareness, I was only slightly more alert.
I could hear better. I could tell voices apart, and I could vaguely understand what they were saying.
"…-want to see—…Vos requesting the return of its sovereign-…" One voice said.
"-Trial…-hear—early hearing—…Starscr—" Another answered.
"-Two joors, two j—" A third voice murmured. "…Senate arrival, the counsel-…"
"…can wait." A forth voice, closer than the rest, spoke. "I have questions that-…his Majesty…-need answers…" It morphed in and out at odd intervals, but even through the weighty haze of impending recharge, I felt its strength and command.
The voices continued to argue quietly, and I fell back into the comfort and quiet of rest.
Louder voices jolted me awake. I tried to shake my processors clear of grogginess, but it was difficult. I squirmed in the arms that carried me, and tried my best to drag myself out of the dark pit of unconsciousness. I onlined my optics, and I was pleased to realize that my sight had mostly returned, to approximately seventy-percent. However, due to the poor lighting system of…wherever I was, there was a limit to what I could see.
The first thing I recognized was the Autobot insignia on the chassis my helm was resting against. The paintjob quickly told me that I knew this mech, though the thought did not exactly comfort me. It made me grow nervous instead, tensing the cables in my joints. I turned my helm, and caught sight of the red blot I had seen the first time I had gained some form of coherent thought. The red blot was a faceplate, and it belonged to Sentinel Prime.
He was carrying me.
The notion made me extremely uncomfortable, so I began to weakly struggle. Sentinel continued to walk down the noisy…corridor? However, when he felt me move in his arms, he quickly looked down.
"You should rest, Starscream," His voice was deep and smooth. His optics were not as piercing and intimidating as I remembered. "Your systems will take longer than usual to reboot after forced stasis, so you should recharge. It will speed up the rebooting process."
"…Wh-Where—…?" I tried to speak up, but all that left my lips was a whisper.
"Don't concern yourself with that right now," He instructed evenly, "Recharge."
I wanted to protest, but my vocalizer stopped working altogether. Sighing through my vents, I leaned my helm against his chassis once more, and offlined my optics.
I must have been extremely tired, for I fell into sleep barely a few kliks after.
By the time my systems had finally fully recovered, my internal chronometer told me that two and three-quarters joors had already passed. I was momentarily confused upon waking, looking around at my surroundings, which were…not a cell. At first, I did not understand why I was not placed in a cell with my trine and Megatron. It took me several kliks to realize that I was in a private interrogation room, cut off from the rest of the prison facilities. I almost felt annoyed with myself for expecting any less. After all, I was no common criminal. Sentinel Prime undoubtedly thought I deserved special treatments.
I sneered in revulsion, and pulled sulkily at the restraints chaining my wrists to the arms of the chair. While my memory banks had become somewhat foggy, I still remembered snippets of what had happened when the Prime forced me into the tiny compartment of the hovercraft. Just the thought of how much of myself I had unintentionally exposed to him filled my spark with disgust, fear, and shame. I could not even feel angry. Under normal circumstances, I would have been infuriated with how small and weak I had felt. However, as I sent half-sparked glares at the door to the interrogation room, I could not muster enough strength in me to rouse up humiliated rage.
Instead of wallowing in self-pity, I started running diagnostics. Everything returned as positive aside from my comm. and external weapons system, which had both been manually disabled. My null rays were also missing from my shoulders, but that did not alarm me. My laser cannons were still hidden away. The ground pounders had not found them, and I allowed myself to feel an inkling of pride. My laser cannons, while not as advanced as my null rays, were very powerful despite their size. They had more than enough fire power to deactivate all Autobot Senators with minimum of fuss.
Satisfied that everything was going according to plan, I began to survey the interrogation room. Much to my relief, it was large, and it was dark for the most part. The walls were thick, insulated, and I suspected that they were soundproof as well. The room was probably under surveillance, despite the lack of visible cameras. Shadows crowded all the corners, unhindered by the tiny light overhanging from the ceiling.
There was only one table in the room, and at each of its ends sat two chairs. I was in one of the chairs, and my interrogator would sit in the other. There was nothing on the table, not even a scratch for me to study out of boredom. I had just begun to scrutinize the door simply because I had nothing better to do when it slid open, and Sentinel Prime strode in, red faceplate an expressionless mask.
I instantly scowled, and glared at him vehemently, optics narrowing in hostility. However, he did not react to my behaviour in the slightest, and merely entered the room at a measured pace. The door slid closed, locking behind him with an audible click, and he approached the table, studying me with an unreadable look in his blue optics. He slowly pulled back the vacant chair, and his vents made a quiet sigh as he sat down. Setting his arms down on the table, he intertwined his fingers, and, for a long moment, simply looked at me. There was the slightest dip between his brow-ridges, one that could almost be called a frown. I could not read him, and the silence quickly became suffocating, stifling the air with tension and unease.
I stared back at the Prime, not willing to avert my gaze as long as he held mine. My wings wanted to twitch, and, to resist the urge, I took to studying his expression. Sentinel looked every bit as impressive and relentlessly strong as before, yet there was something different in the way he carried himself. I did not know what it was, and it made me momentarily lose my scowl to a frown. I was confused. Something was decisively discrepant about him. However, before I could determine what it was, he looked away, and took out an energon cube from subspace before sliding it across the table toward me.
I immediately grew suspicious. Leaning away from the cube, I curled my lips in distaste, and sent him pointed glances. Even if my tank was parched, I would not degrade myself by consuming grounder fuel. Was this some pathetic attempt at hospitality? What was he trying to accomplish by offering me an energon cube?
Silence quickly grew awkward and uncomfortable around us. I shifted in my seat, and half-sparkedly pulled at the restraints. Sentinel returned to watching me, and the way his optics searched mine was making my neural sensors prickle. He seemed to be looking for an answer, but I did not even know what the question was. The pacific way he was using in attempts to find it made me feel even more violated than if he were to simply force it out of me by any means necessary.
I finally buckled under his highly irritating, invasive scrutiny, and snapped.
"What do you want!" My sharp voice rang inside the room, and I almost winced at how raspy and audial-grating I sounded. I knew I was not blessed with a pleasant vocalizing system, but the way my voice penetrated the air was ridiculous even by my standards.
I felt a tiny fleck of admiration toward Sentinel when he did not make any indication of flinching at my pitch, but it did not last long. The fact that he did not seem bothered in the slightest instantly made me irritable. Not even my last resort in offense could inflict any damage, and that, by a backward sense of logic, did not sit well with my pride at all.
"Well?" I grew even more snappish, and struggled against the bonds in my chair, "Are you going to ask me questions or are you just going to sit there and stare at me like a glitched idiot for the whole night cycle?"
He did not rise to my bait. His expressionless faceplate remained unreadable, but he chose to answer:
"I have all the evidence I need to condemn you for treason. Therefore, an interrogation is unnecessary."
"Treason?" I gave a short, loud burst of laughter, and pinned him with a heated stare. "Don't be stupid, Prime. What's there for me to commit treason against? I never gave a damn about your pathetic excuse of a government."
"Even so, Cybertron is under Autobot control, and Vos is a city on Cybertron, independent or not." He replied, and laced his fingers again, casually placing his arms on the table as though he was conversing with an old friend.
"Don't patronize me," I hissed with a snarl, making a grimace. "Just tell me what you're actually here to say."
"Very well," With a note of finality, Sentinel began to drone in a dry, flat voice: "The Senate has decided, while in Autobot custody, you will be treated with caution but maximum of comfort. Until the temporary council has assembled in the court chamber, you will remain here, guarded, but protected. Your trine mates have also been placed under similar treatments, but in separate interrogation rooms. Nothing will happen to any of you until the counsel has reached a temporary verdict based on your currently known crimes. The investigation for the extent of your participation in Kaon's underground movement will then commence, and once it is completed, a final verdict will be passed by the Supreme Court of Cybertron."
I did not comment or make any objections. Not that I needed to. I was certain my expression told Sentinel everything he needed to know about where I thought the Senate should shove their pompous arrogance. Did they honestly believe Vos would simply sit back and allow them to keep me locked up until they figure out what to do with me? My army would sooner eradicate Iacon to the ground.
As though he had read my thoughts, Sentinel immediately went on to address such issue, speaking in the most boring tone he could possibly make:
"After the temporary verdict has been made, you will be allowed limited radio contact with Vos to discourage any potential act of hostility your city might consider in response to your captivity. The Senate does not wish to resort to violence, but if the safety of ground-pound civilians is jeopardized, they are prepared to retaliate in full force."
"Oh I'm sure the safety of the common mech is everything on their rusting processors." I drawled sarcastically and distastefully, curling my lips in a mocking manner.
At first, Sentinel Prime did not reply. A long moment passed, and, slowly and deliberately, he stood up from his seat.
A little alarmed at having an already tall ground pounder loom over me even more, my scowl lost a little of its displeasure in preference to nervousness. This was the mech who had attacked me in the dark conference room at the Autobot headquarters in Iacon, the mech who had forced me into a tiny compartment of a hovercraft. I was more than a little wary to be bound to a chair and locked in the same room with him.
"I must respectfully remind you, Prince Starscream, that the one who will be leading such retaliations is not going to be cowardly Senators." His optics were bright in the gloom of the interrogation room, and he spoke softly, but his voice carried an underlining note of threat that made my wing joints tense on my back. "I promise you: if the order is passed, I will lead my mechs to battle without any reservation." His massive form was unnervingly still, and he stared down at me, expression firm and resolve unyielding. "I will not allow any civilians to suffer at the hands of petty politicians. I am prepared to do everything necessary to ensure that the war you desire with disgusting anticipation is not going to happen."
"What a hypocrite you are, Sentinel," My fingers curled into my palms, and I finally regained the nerve to sneer up at him, "Your civilians are already suffering. I'm almost disappointed that you do not see it."
"Mechs are not equal. Sacrifices must be made." He simply answered.
"The mass makes sacrifices for the pleasures of a few…You are much more alike to those Senators you're so keen on belittling than you think." I retorted, words clipped and sharp.
"Stability is what Cybertron needs, not an upheaval from crooks and criminals with help from a spoiled prince who has nothing better to do with his time than entertain the notion that he knows what's best for a planet he couldn't care less about." The Prime replied evenly, optics meeting my pointed gaze without a single hint of uncertainty. "You should have heeded my warning before you'd sunk too deep into this affair, Starscream. I will not express my views toward your exportation of weaponry to a group of rowdy gladiators for your own entertainment, but to offer direct support to the assassination of Senator Decimus and actively encourage war that could and would ultimately cost the sparks of your own fliers? I thought you were above such stupidity."
The anger I had been lacking since the beginning of our encounter instantly surged through my system as my spark flared in my spark chamber. How dare he accuse me of mistreating the lives of my fliers!
"Sinking to petty insults, Sentinel Prime?" I gritted my dentae, and bit out, glaring at his ugly red faceplate with mounting hatred. I would have said more, but there was a matter that was too peculiar for me to put off for discussion.
"And what's this slag about me exporting weaponry to Megatron?" I was not about to roll over and let Sentinel pin me down for things I had not done. I had no idea where Megatron got his weapons, and I did not particularly care. However, I was extremely offended that Sentinel would think I was stupid enough to allow ground pounders access to Vosian technology. Why would I offer an arrogant and ambitious miner turned visionary weapons that he might possibly use in the future against me?
"I do not know why you insist on feigning innocence over this matter. It will do you little good." Sentinel spoke in a slight murmur, and made the first facial indication of emotion since his entrance into the interrogation room. He pursed his lips, clearly unimpressed, and I almost activated my hidden laser cannons to shoot him. He was treating me like a misbehaving youngling, a mistake that he would very soon terribly regret.
"I'm not feigning anything." I narrowed my optics further, and my glare grew even more heated.
"I have more than enough proof of your visit to Kaon in secret." The Prime crossed his arms behind his back, and stared down at me, looking almost bored with my attempts at making him see fault in his assumptions. "I don't see why you continue to deny the encounter you had with Megatron during that night cycle."
For a spark-seizing moment, I almost thought he had somehow seen Megatron ravish me against the wall outside the arena compounds. However, before I could become inappropriately flustered, my logic center helpfully informed me that if he did indeed see that little episode of passion, he probably would not be talking to me about it.
Then, suddenly, everything made sense.
Sentinel had suspected me since the beginning that I was the one supporting Megatron's little plan of planetary domination. He had thought that I was supplying the weapons, and that I was already involved in trying to plunge Cybertron into war even before Soundwave had started pestering my Fighter Jets. He had threatened me on that night in Iacon because he thought I was in an alliance with Megatron before I even knew about Megatron's agenda at all.
I stared up at him, finding this whole situation so ridiculous and ironic that I wanted to laugh. However, I kept my vocalizer silent, too incredulous with how accurately he had predicted what indeed transpired between Megatron and I to speak or make any commentary. "Think what you must," I ended up saying, and made a scoffing huff with my vents, "If you wish to be the fool, then do as you please." I leaned back in my chair, and regarded him with impassive optics. "I do not care what you think." With the matter concluded, I promptly ignored him, and tried to find a comfortable position in my seat, since I was obviously going to be stuck in this room for a while.
"You should care about what I think, Starscream," His optics narrowed so minutely that I almost missed it, but the simple motion made his demeanor change by such a degree that I instantly felt the temperature in the room make a significant drop. I tensed in the chair, and watched him warily as his stare suddenly gained a sharp edge.
"As I have told you before: War will not happen as long as I am Prime."
The silence that hovered in the air after his statement was thick with tension. While I knew the chance of him attacking me was very low, especially after what I had done when he pushed me too far, I was still much more intimated by him than I would have liked to admit. I did not think for a klik that he cared about me, or that his impression of me has changed over the past few joors. He was only interested in making a frightened Seekerling out of me, and what bothered me the most was that he was partially succeeding.
However, he was making one fundamental mistake.
I felt the urge to smirk swell in my spark.
He was underestimating me.
He was clearly undermining my intelligence and my power. He had too quickly assumed that I was the same as the Autobot Senators: consumed by self-interest and cowardice. He was blinded by his prejudice toward anyone with political power, believing greed to be what compelled all who belonged to the higher class. He thought I could be swayed by his threats because he believed me a brat who was born into too many privileges. He was convinced that I thought everything was a game, and that I had only wanted a laugh when I allied myself with Megatron.
My spark seethed with gleeful rage, and I felt my urge to smirk right into his ugly faceplate grow.
Nothing had been a game since Firechaser.
War was to happen, and Vos would play an integral role in its inevitable arrival.
I continued to stare at Sentinel, daring him to break the silence. I was not going to acknowledge his silly threat. If anything, he had sealed his own fate.
War was to happen, and he would the first to perish with the weak.
Silence simmered in the interrogation room. Sentinel and I continued to watch each other. If the guard outside had not chosen that moment to knock on the door, we would have carried on for joors. Sentinel was forced to break our optic contact, and I tilted my chin upward, pleased even if he did not actually back down.
One had to take little pleasures in life. No one said our staring contest had to be fair.
I smirked, and regarded the Prime and the guard with minimal interest as they quietly conversed. Apparently all Senators in surrounding cities had arrived. The temporary council had gathered, and it was time for me to make my appearance before them in court.
Excitement began to spread from my spark. The thought of the Senates' impending demise by my hands made my entire sensor net quiver with expectant exhilaration. My wingtips tingled as my internal weapon system activated with a surge of warmth. Such a shame I could not see Megatron before I entered the court chamber. I would have liked to display my wings proudly for him as I made my way to ignite the beginning of our war.
"You will be taken to the court chamber now, your Highness," Sentinel turned back to speak to me, and I lifted up a brow-ridge at his sudden address of my title. "You will stand before the council, and you will plead your case."
"Trust me, Sentinel," I sent a smirk toward him, and challenged him with my optics, "there won't be any pleading on my part."
Sentinel studied my expression for a brief moment, but he did not reply. He only sent the guard a small wave of a hand, and the guard approached me to remove my restraints. After freeing me from the chair, he clipped the cuffs around my wrists, and gave me a nudge toward the door. I responded to his impudence with a glare, but chose not to speak. As I left the interrogation room, another guard joined the first, and they both steered me to the court chamber.
As we turned around the corner down the hall, I glanced back at the Prime. He was watching me, silent with his hands held behind his back. His brow-ridges were slightly furrowed, but I could not decide whether he was frowning in confusion or in thought. I did not have the time to decipher his odd expression. The guards tugged me around the corner, and Sentinel disappeared from my sight.
For the first time since arriving at the Autobot prison establishment at Kaon, I took a look of my surroundings. There was not much to see. The walls were thick plated, rough and dull. They had no paint, but rust had smeared them brown in some places. Pipes hung overhead, half-hidden in shadows. Every once in a while, they groaned like a mech in agony, and I felt my wings twitch uncomfortably on my back.
The hall the guards were taking me through was wide, but even with its sufficient space, I felt suffocated. There was barely enough light to illuminate its size, which made it take the appearance of a narrow corridor. The guards' heavy ped-falls and the light click-clacks of my thruster heels echoed in the dim, lengthy passageway. From a distance, I could hear banging and shouting, and I found myself wondering if one of them belonged to Megatron.
I quickly shook my helm, clearing my processors. Megatron was not one to yell and make a ruckus like a common slag-starter. I could picture him sitting in his cell, regarding everything with cold optics, waiting for everything to go precisely as he had planned. My wings gave another twitch, and I wished earnestly that he could see me deactivate the Senate.
The guards gave me glances at my small movements, but they did not ask any questions. We approached a heavy, bolted door, and one of the guards reached for the keypad to enter the pass-code. There was an awful lot of noise coming from behind the blocked entrance, and I frowned in confusion. Why was the court chamber filled with such commotion?
I got my answer when the keypad beeped green, and the bolt was lifted.
Chaos.
That was the only word adequate to describe what greeted my optics as the door slid open with a pressurized hiss. Lining both sides of the long passageway were large cells, full of ground pounders stomping their peds, swinging their fists, and screaming in mad rage. They even dared to come right up against the crackling energon bars, mouths wide open as they howled obscenities at the guards standing on station. Some of the guards were already actively trying to subdue them with electric shock rods. However, nothing they did seemed to deter their prisoners' aggressive behaviour.
I stood, shocked still, at the entrance of the corridor, gaping at the sheer number of prisoners. I was quite amazed that the Autobots managed to squeeze in so many mechs with such limited amount of space. Primus, what an arrest the Autobot security force made. Each cell was overfilling with ground pounders.
The guards yanked at my arms to keep me moving, and I struggled in annoyance, giving them each a nasty sneer. However, I did as I was told, comforted by the thought that everything was going according to plan. I passed by the cells, and immediately attracted attention from the raging prisoners. I quickly became a popular target for threats and jeers, inappropriate commentary flying at me from all direction in rapid succession.
"Gettin' an early hearing?" A large grounder with a gruff voice jerked his chin at me, thin lips pulled into a wide leer, "Betcha suck spike real good fer 'em Senates t'be so eager t' see ya." The group around him quickly joined him in his condescending heckling, bursting out in loud, gibing laughter.
"Not that I can blame 'em," Another grounder added, leaning so close to the energon bars that they illuminated his ugly features with a ghastly glow. "I wouldn't mind givin' his tight little aft a poundin' myself!" Crude guffawing followed, and I stiffly turned away, hands curling into tight fists
With each cell I passed, similar comments followed. They seem to grow more cross by the klik, and I had to bite down on my dentae to keep myself from lashing out in response. My optics narrowed to slits, and I took to scowling at them with obvious disdain and disgust. However, my glaring only seemed to encourage them further, their leers stretching wider and calls getting louder.
"Hearin' us get your lubricant flowin', sweet spark?" An exceptionally bulky mech called out, voice strangely thin and pinched. "Y' want a piece of this?" He suddenly grabbed his codpiece in a manner most lewd, and I immediately snapped my helm away with a grimace, cheek-plates scorching hot as hilarious laughter rang from that cell.
To my surprise, the guards did not attempt to dissuade the prisoners at all. In fact, they actually seemed to be enjoying the taunting.
"Nice friends," One of them gave my arm a small nudge, and snickered.
I only pressed my lips together, and stared straight ahead, not acknowledging anything around me.
"Maybe we should throw him in just to see what happens." A guard on station mused aloud, chuckling darkly, "I bet it'll be better than all the interface simulation vids out on the market."
"Primus's leakin' valve – What kind of vids do you watch?" The one standing closest to him made a sound of disgust, but he gave his friend a slap on the arm, and they laughed.
My wing joints tensed. My steps became hurried. The overwhelming heat in the passageway made my tank churn in discomfort, and the open hostility targeting me made me feel much more vulnerable than I should. The swift, messy air currents from cooling fans made a mess of my flight system with undecipherable data. My processors were aching. I just wanted to go to the court room and get this slag over with.
As I neared the exit to this smelting pit, I suddenly felt a prickling sensation trail up along the joints of my wings. Someone was watching me, and I felt a small rise in core temperature in response to such scrutiny. I did not understand why I was reacting in such a manner. I frowned, and, prompted by intuition, turned to my right. There he was, the mech studying me with the brightest and most vicious pair of optics in the gloom of the large prison cells.
Megatron.
My spark quivered.
Megatron was sitting at the back of the cells, his massive frame shrouded by shadow, making him appear even larger and more menacing to the observer. Only his faceplate was in view, the piercing light glowing hauntingly from his optics casting a sheen to his scarred, scowling features. His lips were stretched into a sneering, feral grin, dentae gritted tightly together. His glare was cold, yet fiery, giving his snarling smirk an especially frightening appearance, raw and ferocious. The twin crimson streaks staining his cheek plates were peeling even more than before, making the scratches and imperfections on his derma even more pronounced. He looked at me with calculating expectance, and his gaze penetrated my spark with, spearing it with a whirlwind of emotions.
He truly looked like a beast then, and I almost licked my lips with my glossa…
Instead, I simply stared back at him, optics slightly widened and intakes stalling silently. I did not even notice my steps slowing down until the guard on my right gave me a small push.
"Don't worry about them." This Autobot seemed to be a little more sympathetic, voice carrying a softer note than all the other mechs around me. "They're not your friends anymore."
They were never my friends, I thought, but I kept that to myself. My vocalizer had frozen as I tried to keep Megatron's optics, entranced by their exceptional shine.
"You should be more worried about what you're going to say to the council." The guard advised, but his hand around my arm was firm. My escorts took me up the stairs to the exit door, and I lost sight of Megatron as I was guided through it.
The door slid closed, and the noise died down.
Turning my helm back around, I sighed through my vents. The guards and I were met with no other disruption along the rest of the way to the court chamber, but the heavy silence was agitating. We eventually came to a stop in front of a large door, which I could only assume led to the courtroom. None of the guards explained. They held me to be as still as they were while we waited. My wings swung back and forth anxiously, and I bit my lips, brow-ridges in a slight frown.
Finally, the large door hissed open, and I hastily checked the status of my internal weapon system. Finding it fully functional and charged, I cycled air through my intakes, and held my helm high as I was escorted past the threshold.
The door indeed led to the court chamber, which had a circular structure. I was led onto a platform suspended in the middle, facing a large, mostly vacant balcony of Autobot Senators regarding me with shiny, blue optics. A mech sat in the center, and more sat in chairs beside him in rolls. Along the metal railing of the balcony were monitors, where my basic information and my crimes were displayed, accompanied by visual profiles of my faceplate and frame. I studied the pictures, and pursed my lips in displeasure. Where in the pits did the Autobots get these pictures? They did not capture the essence of my perfection at all.
The guards left me on the platform, and turned to go to their designated posts while the session was in procession. However, before they could go far, the mech in the middle placed down his data-pad, and immediately waved them back with a guttural noise of dismay.
"For Primus's sakes, what's with the cuffs!" He exclaimed in great disapproval, "I thought I told you to treat our most esteemed guest with the best of hospitality, not tie him up like a criminal! Uncuff him at once!" With snappish barks, he huffed with seeming anger. The guards hurried to obey, and took off the restraints around my wrists.
"I apologize for their incompetence, your Majesty," The mech went on to say, leaning forward and bowing his helm in false pleasantries, "I hope their minor transgression will not inhibit your leniency toward aiding us in finding a suitable solution to this simple misunderstanding." He gave me a smile that did not reach his optics, and I sent him a glare in response.
"Incompetence of subordinates is a sole reflection of incompetence of those in command, my dear Senator," I spoke smoothly, and softened my voice into a purr. "Surely you are aware of that." I gave the Autobot a teasing smirk, and felt my spark skip with glee when his joints tightened in slight tension at my jibe.
"Let us not start on such an unpleasant note, your Highness," The mech waved my comments aside, and plastered on an amiable smile, "Every one of us here only holds the best of intention toward you. After all, good relation with Vos is very important to all of us. We only wish to sustain the ever-long-lasting friendship between Vos and Iacon despite of this…minor hindrance, shall we say?" He gave me a grin, faceplate wrinkling into a visage of fake cordiality. "If you can grace us with your cooperation, Prince Starscream, I am most certain that nothing is irresolvable."
"Save your slick glossas for those who give a slag, Autobot, and get on with it already." With no patience for their slimy pretense, I spoke curtly, and regarded the mech with a cool look of disinterest. Shock toward my attitude washed over the Senate. Some of them shook their helms disapprovingly, while others murmured. I crossed my arms over my chassis, and fanned out my wings to their full span. I had no intention of putting up with these oil politicians and their petty little games. I was here for one reason only, and that reason had no compromise.
False amiability bled from the Senator's faceplate, and his smile dropped to a scowl. Intakes hissing, he sat back in his chair, and tried to stare me down. I only tilted up my chin, and let out a brisk, humourless huff. I could stare him down much better than how he could do me.
"Fine," When he next spoke, his voice was terse and stiff, "Special hearing by the Kaon council will now commence." All the other Senators held up their data pads, and my trial had begun.
"Prisoner Starscream," The middle mech spoke, and I narrowed my optics at him for addressing me in such a manner. "As the official sovereign of Vos, your actions alone dictate the political standpoint of your city, correct?"
"Affirmative." I answered in a flat, bored tone.
"You are also aware that, despite being an independent city-state, Vos must abide to Greater Cybertronian Laws in accordance to the Treaty of Iacon signed by your creator, the previous King of Vos, and the Autobot Senate of Cybertron, correct?"
"Affirmative." I replied evenly, and held back the urge to smirk as some Senates were starting to grow restless by how stark I was being. Really, there was no point in darting around the subject with them. After all, they would not live beyond the night cycle.
"Section three-hundred-and-twelve, clause three-dash-C, line ten of the Treaty of Iacon clearly states that should any action threatening the peace of Cybertron be taken by either political institutions, the responsible group or groups will be condemned of treason, regardless of societal position." The middle mech spoke briskly, clutching the data-pad in his hands tightly between his fingers. "And you, prisoner Starscream, are accused of supplying known criminals with dangerous weaponry in active support of their terrorist movement as well as their attack on Senator Decimus. Is there anything you wish to say in your defense?"
I parted my peds into a more comfortable width, and leaned my weight on my left hip.
"No," My voice held a lilt of amusement, "Everything you say is correct."
The middle mech paused, and more murmurs erupted between the other Senators. They debated amongst themselves just what I was playing at, and I merely watched, optics focused and lips tilted into a hint of a smile.
"…There is more than enough evidence to prove your affiliation with this criminal group, Starscream," The middle mech spoke slowly, narrowing his optics at me, "Should the final verdict of your trial be guilty, you will be executed, and your city will fall under direct Autobot authority. Do you understand what I am saying to you?" He leaned forward a little, and dared to carry, in his voice, a hint of belittlement.
All humour left me in an instant. I uncrossed my arms, and my smirk dropped to a snarl.
"Don't insult me, Autobot. I know exactly what you are saying." I replied with a cold bite, wings making sharp flicks. "If you are done greasing your thick processors with self-righteousness, listen up. I have a message for all of you."
That caught their full attention in an instance. I stood up straighter, and held my wings in pride as complete silence filled the court chamber.
"You are more blind than I thought if you'd think I will simply allow you to do as you please with me and my city," I scanned the room, and glared at every single one of those bulky-afted glitch-helms. "Your sad and unrealistic ambition to wrangle Vos under your command is laughable at best – an unattainable dream conceived by the greed of old fools."
My lips curled, and the derma of my faceplate stretched along with the mad, delighted smile.
"You still don't seem to understand, Autobot," I addressed the middle mech in address to all, "Through your own interests, you created this." My gaze swept across the crowd of gold-plated faceplates, their glittering features festering with wealth of the corrupt. "You brought us together. You gave us the same goal. Through your own violations, you transgressed on us and made us one."
My optics narrowed to slits, and I grinned.
"You didn't just make it possible," My voice reached a seductive growl, and I let out a dark laugh, breathy and low,
"You made it happen."
For a long moment, none of the Senates replied.
The silence grew stale, and finally, the middle mech shuttered his optics, shaking his helm clear to ask in a whisper:
"…What are you talking about, Prince Starscream?"
I did not answer right away, only gracing him with a somewhat incredulous stare.
"Oh stop it, Autobot, enough is enough. I sicken of your continuous feigning of innocence." I scowled with visible loathing, and clenched my hands into tight fists. I had delivered my message. My purpose here was done. This meeting was to end, and, with it, the lives of all Autobot Senators present at my hearing.
My battle computer clicked into activation as I prepared for my attack. My internal weapon system hummed, and my hidden laser cannons grew warm – warm and ready.
"I fail to see where this hostility stems from, Prince Starscream," The middle mech continued to play ignorant, glancing at his comrades with an expression of bewilderment. "We have never done anything that deserves this accusation." He spoke with a laugh of incredulity, and I immediately decided that he was going to be the first to deactivate.
"Have never done anything, Autobot?" I growled, anger consuming my spark at such a speed that my internal temperature instantly reached a significant increase. "How about Firechaser?" My voice lowered further, its tone dark and dangerous. "Does that ring any bells in your empty processors?"
"Firechaser?" The Autobot dared to look even more confused, frowning and leaning back a little, "What about him? He still has not been found, no?"
My wings began to tremble. I seethed, biting my jaw joints as my laser cannons prepared to be extracted.
"Still keen on keeping your act, Senator?" I spoke slowly and gently, lips feeling every syllable as I planted my thrusters further apart in a firmer stance, hips in a soft sway.
"I'm almost disappointed," I cooed, plastering on a false expression of pity: "I had expected more begging from you."
With an audible snap, the panels on my shoulders retracted, and my laser cannons flipped into place as I swung up my arms, proudly displaying their deadly barrels. I took aim at the mech in the middle. A hum filled the room, and a charge began to build. The bright orbs of the pending blast filled the large chamber with a sudden burst of light, but the Autobots remained frozen on their spots, gaping at my weapons with complete shock on their faceplates.
"…S-Security! Security!" The middle mech, finally snapping out of his horrified stupor, screamed and scrambled in his seat to escape my wrath, but he was too late.
"Oh I really don't think that's going to help, Autobot." With a quirk of a grin, I fired, and the Senator's helm exploded into flames. His arms flailed for a klik or two before his body promptly fell back into his chair, cold and dead. For a moment, there was only silence. Energon bubbled from the blackened mess of processor matter, and a bubble of laughter rose from deep within me, hilarious and delighted.
Aghast shouts of fear rippled across the chamber. Everything erupted into a chaotic mess as mechs jumped out of their seats and cried out for help, pushing each other aside to get to the exits. I heard the guards behind me call for back up, swinging up their blasters in preparation. Unfortunately for them, I was simply that much faster.
I swirled around, and fired my laser cannons with a wide sweep. My hits were precise, and they hit the guards right in the chassis, instantly deactivating them before they could even take aim.
Wasting no time to gloat in the glory of my kill, I turned around once more, and took a swift scan of the chamber. The Senates were still rushing to the exits while the other guards started to lift their blasters. Frantic voices cried for help, drowned out when blasters were fired. I suddenly found myself facing a rain of blasts aiming to kill.
Cursing through gritted dentae, I leapt to the side, thrusters activating to boost me higher as I dodged the shots by mere wing tips. I flipped in the air, keen optics locking on to every guard following my form with their blasters, and raised my laser cannons.
Each arm aiming for a different mech, I fired, swerving in my short flight path to avoid more shots from the guards. My smooth, sleek frame glistened under the light of their blasts. My body danced in the air. I wore a large grin on my faceplate, and I could feel my optics widening in exhilaration. I gunned down every one of the guards, and landed right in front of the first mech I killed. Looking down at the scattered processor parts and the sticky mess of energon, I laughed, and kicked the dead weight off from its perch on the chair with a ped.
I was enjoying myself so much that I did not notice one of the Senates sub-spacing a small pistol. I did not know he was shooting at me until one of his shots grazed my wings. The sharp sting sliced through my sensor net like a flaming blade, and I cried out in anger and pain. I turned, hissing out curses, and prepared to send the grounder to Unicron's pits. However, another shot finished my job for me.
A bright, purple blast blew straight through the mech's chassis, and for a brief klik, I only stared. Snapping my helm around to find the origins of the blast, I was surprised to spot Soundwave standing stoically in the shadows on one of the balcony levels, visor dimmed to a bare glow.
What in the pits was Soundwave doing here? I frowned in irritation and confusion. Shouldn't he be in the cells?
"Operation Phase Two: Commencing." Soundwave intoned, and reached to press a button on his shoulder. To my further surprise, his chest compartment opened, and what appeared to be cassettes flew out of them, transforming in the air. I recognized one of them as Laserbeak, and another turned out to be one of the insufferable twins I had met prior to entering the main arena with Megatron. Making a short huff with my vents, I sent Soundwave a small jerk of my chin in acknowledgement, and merely made glances as his strange cassettes began to chase after the panicking Senates.
"Nice little trick, Soundwave," I smirked, lifting an arm and shooting an Autobot in the back without shuttering an optic, "If I weren't so amused by your surprises I'd be angry at you for stealing my kill."
Soundwave only watched me with minimum of interest, not moving in the slightest.
Quickly becoming unnerved, I turned away, and deactivated the Senates that Soundwave's little minions were not harassing.
The court chamber became increasingly quieter until all Autobots lay dead around us. I looked around, pleased about the carnage and our efficiency. However, our fight was far from over. Ped-falls could already be heard, approaching the various entrants leading into the court chamber, and I knew our reprieve was fleeting.
"I'm going to release Megatron myself. You let out the others," I dropped hasty orders as I passed Soundwave and took off toward the main entrance. "I don't have the time to go to every single cell in this pit-hole." Without another word, I shot the keypad beside the door, and ran out as it slid open.
Barely two kliks later, I encountered my first group of guards. After engaging them in a short standoff, I jumped over their deactivated bodies, and raced down the hall. I had a few more run-ins with Autobot guards, but they were disposed of without much hassle. Before long, I burst through the door to Megatron's cells, and shot down the guards that still lingered there with a blaze of rapid laser fire. As the graying husks of the Autobots emitted sparks and smoke, I looked around, and immediately caught Megatron's optics.
They burned – a penetrating crimson. Their intensity pierced through my core, and I shivered, intakes stuttering. The scent of fresh spilt energon was thick in the air, coupled with the crisp, smoldering stench of melted plating by laser fire. It washed over my systems, tickling my olfactory receptors, and my wings, an extension of my spark, minutely shook. The deepest, most primal of desire overtook me then, a massive wave so quick and overwhelming that I was momentarily stunned, almost wavering on my peds. I looked back at him, my mech, my ground pounder, my gladiator, my commander, and I felt it – the burst of heat that raced through my energon lines like liquid flames and coated the inner walls of my valve.
Megatron…
He had moved to the front of the cell, standing tall and imposing behind the energon bars. My optics shamelessly roamed over his frame, greedily drinking in the sight of his large, battle-hardened frame, his strong hands, his thick thighs, and his scratched, battered faceplate. I slowly swayed toward him, peds light and thrusters clicking. My cooling fans whirred, and I could not determine whether my frame was heating from my previous killing spree, or from my arousal. This desire, this obsession, it was becoming harder and harder to contain. I could barely look at Megatron in the optics without feeling the utter need to throw my arms around him and tackle him to the ground.
…I wanted his chipped lip components on mine, hot glossa engaged in a heated dance for dominance. I wanted to feel his hands clutching at my frame, leaving none of my plating unclaimed. I wanted him inside my core, nestled and snug against the deepest sensor node of my valve, which was growing ever hotter and moist, clenching inside me. My spark felt so swollen that I was afraid it was going to spill out of my spark chamber, thumping and throbbing, making the energon in my fuel lines race through my system.
I had no idea how I made it to stand before him without tripping over myself. I could no longer read his expression, simply because my processors were too overcome to think about anything else aside from having a vulgar, rough interface with him right on the prison floor. I wanted him to rip me from the sky, strip me bare of all my vorns of accumulated sophistication and morality. I wanted him to frag me senseless into the ground, the idea urged to expand ever sweeter by the fact that he lusted after me too.
I could feel the heat of his frame over the buzzing warmth of the energon bars. I could see the way his fists trembled as he fought to not move, to not impulsively smash his way out of the cell and get hurt in the process just to touch me. This revelation made me reckless and arrogant, and I smirked, wings straining to fan out higher on my back. My fingers uncurled from my palms. They trialed up my trembling thighs. My intakes shuddered with a deep cycle of humid air, and my hands rested on my hips.
I looked up at him, and I dared to speak, vocalizer laced with static even as I tried my utmost best to be coy and enticing:
"Our war has begun, mighty Megatron. There's no going back now."
"I never intended to." He answered, the texture of his voice so stimulating, so different from mine that I reeled in euphoric arousal.
"I should just leave you in there," A taunting grin infected my faceplate, and I teased him, leaning so close to the energon bars that I almost got burnt. "Leave you, and reap the benefits of this war myself."
Megatron watched me with his smoldering, fiery optics, and, slowly, he replied, every syllable of his words drawing me closer and closer to complete abandonment by way of a scowled, hideous smirk.
"Then you are a fool, Starscream."
His growled utterance of my designation undid me. With a single, swift swing of my left arm, I shot the key pad in control of the cells. There was a splutter of sparks, and the energon bars immediately sizzled and disappeared. The last barrier between my mech and I vanished, and my arm was seized, tugged forcefully forward by rough fingers.
My canopy hit the hard plating of his chassis. Its glass scraped and screeched. I lifted my helm, mouth quivering apart with a small gasp—
And his lips crushed against mine.
Firm, insistent, and intoxicating.
And heat.
It engulfed me.
Boiling across my fuel lines and my sensory circuits.
Megatron yanked me into his arms, his sheer size easily overpowering my lithe, fragile constitution. His lips moved against mine, and it was much less a kiss than a brutal claiming. He was strength and violence, biting down hard on my bottom lip component when I stubbornly refused to let him enter my mouth with his glossa. The responding, burning surge of raw lust that shot through my system from the sudden flare of pain was so overwhelming that I cried out in a spasm, thighs squeezing together and valve tightening in wet convulsion. My lips fell apart, and his glossa invaded, deepening our kiss without any consideration for what I might have wanted. Not that it mattered. I wanted everything he was willing to give, if not more.
I kissed back, fingers grappling around his shoulders as I tugged him even closer toward me. One of his hands gripped the back of my helm, and turned me with a terse pull for his better access. His other hand wrapped around me, the perk of my aft a perfect fit into his large palm. With an especially hard yank, our crotch plates collided, and my processors stalled, accompanied by a loud, stammering gasp from my intakes. He swallowed my sharp cry of bliss, and his hand around my aft reached further inward. He forced his fingers between my tightly clenched thighs, and gave my valve panel a harsh rub.
I just about squealed under the sudden assault, clutching his shoulders tighter and frame visibly rattling. He continued to knead the thin plating, relentless as he was, heightening my pleasure. It was too much, too sudden. My wings were twitching nonstop on my back, and I tried to whimper out desperate pleas for him to be gentler with me. However, I could not. He would not allow me, his hand around the back of my helm holding me still. He was ruthless, taking anything he wanted from me without consideration, and I was powerless to stop him, squirming and making frantic little sounds. He maneuvered for both of us, and ground our crotch plates together as his fingers pressed and rubbed against the flimsy panel hiding my interface port.
The cover to my valve was beginning to slip aside, and a dribble of lubricant slid down along the inside of my right thigh. My intakes hitched. My vocalizer let out a thin, sharp whine. The alarmed thought of baring myself to not only Megatron, but all the other ground pounders around us as well startled me out of my thick haze of desire. My joints grew rigid, and my optics onlined in a flash. I immediately started to struggle in earnest, trying desperately to protect my intimacy from being seen.
As it turned out, I did not need to worry. Megatron, noticing the same thing I did, pulled away slightly, and separated our lips. I tilted my helm back, and caught sight of his faceplate. Upon seeing his expression of sheer unblemished hunger to ravish me senseless, I almost moaned, knee joints threatening to buckle under my little weight. His fingers were still snug against the cover of my valve, and they trembled with tension as they resisted with paramount effort to not push the thin plating aside to delve deep into my heated, wet port. I did not dare move. I knew our moment of clarity from committing public interface was hanging by a mere cable.
"Now…is not the time." Megatron ground out, voice coarse with interludes of static as he stared heatedly into my optics, every bit as hot and bothered as I was. "We must not allow any distractions to divert the course of our initial goal." He spoke even as his cooling fans were so loud that it almost echoed in the large cells.
"O-Of—…course…" I was amazed I could talk at all, especially with his fingers still firm against my interface port.
"We mustn't waste time." He very visibly gathered himself, and tore himself from me with nothing short of an iron will and forced determination. I was equally as reluctant, but I also knew there were much better places to frag than an Autobot cell. "The night cycle is still young. Kaon will burn before it ends." He spoke much more solidly than I could, and I was momentarily amazed, shakily nodding consciously making sure I stayed upright on my thrusters.
"I need to find my trine mates first," I turned to stare out the door I came in from, averting my gaze from Megatron on purpose. I was not certain how much control over myself I had, and I was not about to risk looking at the mech I so desperately wanted to test that control. "I need to rescue them so we can retrieve our null rays."
"Very well," Megatron might have nodded, but I could not be sure. I had already begun to walk toward the door, steps awkward and stiff. I wondered if the other ground pounders were watching me, but my spark simply refused to care. As I made impressive progress of half-stumbling through the door, I heard Megatron addressing the rest of his troops:
"All levels, all crimes, open all cells – free everyone, not just those that came in with us." He ordered, voice reverting back to commanding and firm. "All of them walk out with us to thank for it."
I walked down the silent hall, shaking my helm clear as I activated my navigating system to find my way back to my interrogation room. Megatron's voice continued to reach me, even as I turned the corner, teasing my sensor network with little aftershocks of pleasure.
"This is the last cycle we blow with the wind. This is the night we harness Kaon."
I reached between my thighs with shaky fingers, and pushed my valve cover closed when it simply refused to budge.
"This is the cycle we ride!"
A roar followed, the sound reverberating louder between the walls of the passageway. My frame still hummed with anticipation for Megatron's touches, even though I knew none would come, at least not until many joors later. The thought that I would be celebrating the first victory of our war with him made me much more excited than I knew I should. Shaking my helm once again, I hurried into a quiet sprint, promptly deciding to first focus on the matter at hand.
Dispelling the strong desire I still felt was difficult, but blasting several Autobots to deactivation helped immensely in getting rid of the extra charge. By the time I reached my interrogation room, my frame was no longer overheated, and my processors were once again clear.
Sentinel Prime was no longer present, undoubtedly called to the court chamber to investigate the situation, and what little number of guards who stayed behind to watch the interrogation rooms was quickly deactivated by my laser cannons. The fact that there were still guards stationed here told me that my trine mates were very likely here. I hasted to check each and every one of them, blasting keypads as I went.
I only remembered about the scrambler attached to the back of my neck cables when I tried to activate my comm. system. Cursing myself for forgetting about it, I reached behind me, and plucked the tiny device off with no small amount of pain. However, though annoying, it did not deter me beyond some wincing and gritting of dentae. Once able, I activated my manually disabled systems, and, almost simultaneously as I started various diagnostics, received a ping from my personal comm.-line. I opened it, and Nightfire's voice instantly rang through, frantic with worry.
:Oh thank Primus you finally answered! Where on Cybertron are you!:
I flinched at the tone of his voice, but could not find enough resolve in my spark to berate him for it.
:I think you already know, Nightfire…: I mumbled back, feeling like a scolded sparkling. If my hazy memory files served me correctly, Vos was already aware of my current situation.
:Oh no…please no…: Nightfire sounded horrified, :Please don't tell me the Autobots are right, Star…Please don't tell me you actually did enter an alliance with a criminal faction…!: He sounded so desperate for me to tell him otherwise that I actually grimaced. I could only imagine the utter chaos unfolding in Vos at the moment, after the news of my affiliation with Megatron had been unceremoniously released. I felt a little bad. Nightfire definitely did not deserve to be in the middle of this mess on top of Firechaser. It was really quite unfortunate that my Space Shuttle advisor always seemed to be the one to clean up after me when my impulsive actions came back to bite me in the aft at the most inopportune moment.
:It's a bit too late for false reassurance, Nightfire.: I could only mumble once again, knowing that blunt admittance was a lot more beneficial than self-justification in the long run.
For several kliks, there was only silence from the other end of the line, during which I shot down an Autobot guard that had rounded the corner. Just as the deactivated ground pounder collapsed to the floor, an explosive shout erupted from my usually cool-helmed advisor.
:What were you thinking, Star!:
:I—I just—…I didn't want to worry you, alright?: I definitely did not whine, no matter how much it sounded like I did.
Starscream—: Nightfire made many unintelligible sounds as he tried to piece together a coherent sentence. :…I-I'm sorry for raising my voice, your Highness, but-but—…What in the pits were you—!:
:It wasn't my best moment, Nightfire,: I grumbled. That was as close to an apology as I was going to get, especially since I did not quite regret my decision, as much as I knew I should.
:Star—…: Nightfire made a deep sigh with his vents. For a brief klik, he sounded so exasperated and so alike to Skyfire that I actually froze in my steps, joints tensing rigid. Nightfire continued to ask me why I had made such choice so impulsively, voice at a much more amiable volume than before with all the proper etiquette of a flier addressing his monarch. However, all I could concentrate on was forcing down the energon that had started to crawl up my throat from the churning of my fuel tank, nausea processor-stalling.
By Primus…What would Skyfire think if he knew of what I was doing? Of what the motivations behind my actions were?
This obsession I had for Megatron had degraded me to such extents that I could hardly recognize myself. I might as well label myself as the "whore Prince" from my behaviour over the past few cycles. Nightfire had every right to be horrified. Slag, I was horrified myself. I had thrown away all care toward my city and bargained the lives of all fliers for one ambitious ground pounder who wanted to see Cybertron burn. I had allowed my logic circuits to become so clouded so I would…by Primus…practically spread my thighs in a wanton display for a cheap, dirty frag.
My spark felt like it was shriveling into itself, and I wanted to curl into a ball. Shame stung, but it was too late to dwell on sentiments. I could no longer sever myself from the war. My pride would not allow it.
If Cybertron were to be renewed, I would have to do so on my terms.
On my terms, and not on Megatron's.
:—too late for a diplomatic approach, so what is your command, Sire?: Nightfire's voice regained importance to my processors. He sounded weary, and I could not blame him, but at least he had calmed down from his panicked tirade.
:The news of Vos's alliance with the Decepticon faction, as well as that of my whereabouts, must not reach civilian audials.: I slowly came back to myself, straightening in posture and perking up my wings. :I will make necessary arrangements for a formal address to my fliers once the night cycle's events are over. Aside from that, wait for my instruction, and keep everything quiet.:
There were acute changes in the air around me. More Autobot guards were sneaking down the corridor just around the corner.
:I have company that needs dealing with, Nightfire.: My laser cannons grew hot, charging to full. :Do not contact me again until I return for Vos.: I cut our line, and raised my arms as the first guard came into view.
Notes: Over the weekend, I'd come to the realization that editing the full chapter of XIII and being able to update by this week just could not possibly happen at the same time, so I decided to cut the chapter in half. I'm not happy with such decision, nor am I happy with the below-par editing job I undoubtedly did. However, I much more prefer to not let the wait be any longer.
I'm hoping I'd learnt the lesson of not writing another chapter the length of approximately 40-50 pages with dense paragraphs after this monster, but most of "Insatiable" was written last summer, so I really can't be sure…D:
Thank you, to all my readers, for being patient with me. Especially big thanks for my kind reviewers: Devlinn Reiko,lildevchick, Ashcola17, Koluno1989, MalevolentMask, Pandablubb, The Happy Shark, tiedwithribbons, The-writing-Mew, MegaScream-Love, trixxybaby95, Deathtomushrooms, Din Kelion, PwnKage, bantamm, aki. vn, Cloud Kitsune17, poinsonouswaffle'n-stuffs, Sneefee and cerebral-mess. Hearing from you always makes me smile. :)
The next chapter, as you can guess, will be the second segment of part XIII. That will be where all the fun and exciting things happen, so please stay tuned! I'm very sorry for the long wait. Hopefully, the next wait will be shorter.
Please leave me a few words. I'd love to know what you thought as you read this chapter.
Thank you once again!