Author's Note:

Sorry it's short. And good Lord this chapter took forever to write. Was suffering an annoying writer's block momentarily, and then when I finally thought I had it written so good, my computer froze! D:I lost over half the chapter cause my autosave was set for some ridiculous span of time and I had to rewrite everything after her meeting with Megatron. I still don't really like how it turned out. It felt so much stronger the first time.

C'est la vie, here it is anyways, and hopefully the next arc will be greater than the last!


An alliance with Megatron . . .

Even after what he had done to Raf.

The thought made everything all the more conflicting for Nightstalker. She sat crisscross on the gangway where the humans stood, staring at the—for now—empty ground bridge tunnel. Everyone was arguing over the proposed alliance.

All in all, her spark was really starting to feel compassionate to Ratchet, despite his disdain towards her—she could hear the stress in every word he spoke.

"I know that desperate times call for desperate measures," Ratchet snarled, "but bringing Megatron HERE?" He paced restlessly.

"How can you even THINK of letting that monster near these children after what he did to Raf!" June exploded as well, hands coming to rest on the youngest human's shoulders.

"He will be closely monitored," Optimus stated firmly, "and only allowed to linger long enough to send us on our journey." His voice dropped to a growl. "Not one moment more."

"What's to stop the 'Con from calling in an air strike if he knows where you live?" Fowler put in.

Optimus fixated his optics on him. "By ground bridging Megatron here, he will be unable to get a fix on our coordinates."

Jack finally spoke, the pinch in his brow speaking more. "Optimus, what's going to happen to you when all your . . . Matrix energy's released?"

Nightstalker's helm looked up with sudden interest.

"The power within the Matrix has not previously utilized in this particular manner," he said matter of factly, turning and walking a few paces away.

"But . . . you have an idea, don't you?"

The thunderous silence was all Nightstalker needed to hear—

He didn't plan to make it out alive.

It hit like a punch in the gut. Her wings strained against her cuffs. This was so wrong. He gave and gave and gave, sacrificed and sacrificed and sacrificed . . . and yet, he stood there, ready to forfeit his own life for them when in reality they had done so little for him. Nightstalker dropped her helm.

It was so wrong. For the first time in her life, she had someone to look up to like a father, and he was getting ripped away even before she could truly learn all she needed to. All for the sake of wretched humanity that would tear itself to shreds anyways.

Oh Primus . . . We don't deserve him.

He put his hands on his hips, and his words decompressed on a sigh, "Autobots, if humankind is to be saved," he turned to face them, "I have no choice but to proceed."

Yes, you do, but you always choose the outdated chivalry . . .

"But you do."

No, I don't, I'm strapped to the base and locked in stasis cuffs. I wouldn't do it anyways . . .

A little bit ashamed at that last confession to herself, Nightstalker wished desperately that she could use the private comm. link. She wanted to persuade him not to do it—he owed them nothing, after all. They should owe HIM for every hit he took, every drop of energon, every scar decorated across his body—beatings he bore for them freely. She wanted to tell him what he meant to her, that she couldn't let go of a connection like that when she had never experienced a father—even if he couldn't act on it because he was a leader. It was enough to know he was there.

And then, she heard the bots professing that they would do it. Go down with him? For . . . Miko. Jack. Raf. Nightstalker felt her optics shift to the humans she had defected sides for, those precious humans . . . She felt her spark cry out in conflicted agony. Lose them? Or lose him? She couldn't choose, couldn't pick . . . !

But she didn't have to. Things moved on even without her word. After all, she was confined to base—even if she had wanted to help, she wasn't allowed to. And so Nightstalker knelt as the ground bridge blasted open, and Megatron prowled through.

Her spark rate rocketed. She had forgotten all about him coming! Too consumed in her own thoughts, she hadn't even given thought to Megatron. She was in his direct line of sight—he had seen her the instant he had walked through the bridge. A little chill crept up her circuits—it was surreal seeing the Autobots' most sworn enemy strolling right into their base of operations.

He cast his optics bemusedly about the room—off colored purple optics. Optics she didn't know. "So, this is where the magic happens." A familiar smirk chased its way across his features, though. "Quaint."

Nightstalker knew the guns were leveled at him; the humans were speaking to him; his tone was contemptuous of all of them, lethal towards Jack. Jack didn't flinch though, much to Nightstalker's pride. She quivered on the inside when Megatron set those eerie purple optics on her, and a slow, foreboding smile spread across his face.

"Nightstalker," he said with played amicableness. Nightstalker swallowed as he walked towards her. She was more surprised Optimus didn't stop him. "My, what time has passed since I last saw you. Aligning yourself with the enemy, and it seems you still cannot deny you carry the energon of a Decepticon."

She stared up at Megatron. He was right in front of her now. What? He knew. "It was my own fault," she finally stammered out. "I was the one that attacked him." Optimus. She couldn't quite get her words to function correctly with those inhumane purple eyes glinting down at her.

"Ah, yes," Megatron mused, placing a servo on his powerful hips and leaning his weight on one leg. "Enamoring video Laserbeak provided. I actually thought you would follow through on his destruction! A pity you've changed—you would have made a wonderful Queen of the Decepticons."

Finally, Cliffjumper's voice piped up. "Queen?"

Nightstalker's spark squeezed tight in her chassis. Megatron chuckled, reaching a servo up and lifting Nightstalker's chin up with one of his fingers. "Oh yes," he crooned, optics suggesting much more, "she would have made a wonderful queen."

Cliffjumper was in between them so suddenly Nightstalker didn't have time to blink. His powerful cannons aimed at Megatron, humming in threat, and his optics narrowed to slits. "Get your hands off her," he snarled.

Megatron arched an amused brow at the warrior, and he smirked. He removed his hand. "You get around quickly, don't you, Nightstalker?"

Cliffjumper twitched. "Get around?"

"Not like that," Nightstalker hissed to Megatron, wings straining against her cuffs as the Decepticon leader took a great deal of enjoyment in this.

"Oh, don't you know?" he said lightly to Cliffjumper. He smirked wickedly. "Nightstalker here was more than just my lead torturer, she was also my frag partner."

There it was—out in the open. Her precious secret she would have given anything for the Autobots not to know. Megatron didn't pick up on that though, merely rumbling with pleasant and hot memories of the sticky nights. "Hm, yes, exceedingly talented in that area. You've gained a libidinous partner, Cliffjumper."

The bot in question's jaw slacked open. He turned wide, horrified optics on Nightstalker. "Nights . . . ?"

"It's not like that!" she burst to both mechs, but neither seemed to hear her—either that, or they didn't care.

Ratchet gave a harsh, cynical and sarcastic laugh at Nightstalker. "How many more secrets are you hiding from us?" he snarled. "Did Megatron frag you well?"

"You were his bitch?" Arcee spat flatly. "You let him frag you like some—"

Oddly, out of all it could have been, it was Optimus that spoke up for her. "Now is not the time to be discussing Nightstalker personal history," he growled flatly, daring any of the bots to say otherwise. His crystal blue optics could cut through steel. He pinned them to Megatron. "Ratchet, obtain the destination from our GUEST."

That should have effectively ended all conversation. While Megaton did move away and to the ground bridge controls, Cliffjumper lowered his weapons, turning around with hurt disbelief at Nightstalker. "Nights . . . you wouldn't . . ."

Nightstalker clenched her jaw. She would. And enjoy it too. And still want it, worst of all. She groaned, dropping her face into her servos. There went all the credibility she had worked up. Crushed. Dust under the rug.

She could feel the all the bots optics on her, judging her, reassessing her, and completely disgusted with her in every way. Nightstalker cowered back as far as she could, ashamed.

Worst of all . . . She still wanted him.


She sat in the base.

They freaking charged to the core of the Earth, the core of UNICRON, and she sat helpless in the base. That was what Nightstalker did as she endured her punishment. Wings straining against their cuffs. Worry eating away at her spark.

The weather became worse to the point of threatening to collapse the base on top of them before it all suddenly let up. That boded well of the group's success, but coming back short one signal, short one bot, was enough to send Nightstalker's insides into a fit of fear—

She could only be thankful that Optimus wasn't dead.

Orion Pax. She had no idea that Optimus had been, almost literally, someone else before he had been given the title Prime. Granted, she probably should have known that—the title "Prime" was something earned. She had just never met Optimus before the war. Now she HAD heard of Megatronus before the war—in fact, she had watched a few of his gladiator matches with Fli-Ni to see this iconic figure fight because, to them, he had been their idol. Megatronus was going to be the one to rid the world of the caste system, and he would be the one that would get bots like themselves off the streets. They had placed a hope in Megatronus, and Fli-Ni had proclaimed that he was going to be as great as he was.

How ironic the twists of fate could be.

And now, she knew Jack had been given the key to Vector Sigma. It both moved her spark with pride over the boy that had won Optimus's trust, but it also scared her. There was no "oxygen" on Cybertron, but this complication was made harder because it HAD to be Jack that accessed Vector Sigma. Vector Sigma could only be accessed by a Prime, or one chosen by a Prime.

In other words, Jack had nearly become the next Prime himself. Jackson Darbimus Prime—yeah, it had a ring to it. There must be more to Jack than meets the eye.

Instead, the days dragged by slowly in which they searched futilely for Optimus. Ratchet struggled to jerry-rig the ground bridge to space bridge Jack to Cybertron to access Vector Sigma, and Nightstalker rotted inside the base, clawing the walls to be set free in these long days of idleness. Seventeen days before freedom quickly became ten before the bots finally had a plan.

Let the Decepticons build their space bridge, and then commandeer it. It was a simple and risky plan, but one that the Autobots were willing to place bets on. Ten days trickled to three before Ratchet's first tweaking of the ground bridge failed, nearly sending the stressed bot into despair. Starscream contacting them later that night gave them the first information they had regarding the 'Con's space bridge location.

It was then that their plan was hatched fully.

"We will bridge directly into the Decepticon mine," Ratchet told them, "and make our way to the space bridge chamber, neutralizing any Decepticon forces we encounter. Once we secure the space bridge, we'll send for Jack."

There was a pause as he let this sink in, and Nightstalker watched outcast from the sides. Cliffjumper was shifting from foot to foot—he was antsy for action these past 2 weeks without Optimus and wanted to kick some 'Con again. She also had a feeling he was biting his glossia to keep from interrupting the hair-trigger medic.

"Stealth must be an ABSOLUTE priority," Ratchet said severely. "We will most certainly be outnumbered, and if any Decepticon should transmit an alert to their warship, the odds become 400 to one. Scrambling communications upon entry will certainly provide an edge in this regard."

Nightstalker hovered as the war plans were laid out. They began to designate who to where, and she could only think, Am I to waste here in the back? But she had three more days to wait before she was free. The walls taunted her processor, and she hated that she was being left out of Optimus's rescue.

"Taking the bridge is the easy part," Arcee cut in strictly. "You four need to hold it long enough for Jack—and me—to get to Cybertron and back." Dear Primus, and how long would it take for them to find Vector Sigma? No one knew where it was located, it was honestly just superstition! If they landed on one side of the planet and it was on the other side, it could take them DAYS to get to where they needed!

Ratchet nodded. "If Rafael climbed to the top of the rope in gym class, we can do this."

Nightstalker arched a brow at the sudden off-colored statement but Raf and Ratchet exchanged a meaningful glance, so she could only attribute it to something between them. Miko cut in with an exasperated, "What does GYM class have to do with anything? And if Ratchet gets to go on a commando raid, I'M going too."

Ratchet leveled a serious look on her. "Miko. You will help Rafael operate our ground bridge and manage the communications."

She snarled in frustration and stomped away. "Can't go to Cybertron, can't storm the Decepticon space bridge . . ."

"And Nurse Darby will stand by in case of emergency."

For Jack's part. Everyone had a place, everyone had something to do, something to contribute to Optimus's rescue.

And what did Nightstalker get to do? Sit in her room and claw the walls.

That was NOT what she wanted to do.

"I'm going too."

Every optic in the area turned on her, Ratchet's most cutting of all. "You will do no such thing," he growled, standing arms and legs akimbo as he faced her. "You are still confined to this base, and one step out and I will GLADLY enforce two more weeks of your punishment."

Nightstalker took a deep breath to steel her nerves. She had sat helpless and pitying herself long enough in this Primus-forsaken base. She had to be stronger than she had before, she had to be strong enough to stand up for herself—strong enough to be the femme that Bumblebee and Optimus believed in.

Just because you can't change the past doesn't mean that you have to keep wallowing in it.

The wisest words she had ever heard Bumblebee say.

Don't ever degrade yourself so far that you don't believe you deserve forgiveness.

The most spark-moving words she had ever heard Optimus say.

And she was going to prove them right and finally prove what she needed to prove so long ago wasting time doing Ratchet's dirty work—that, like Jack, she too could be more than meets the eye.

"Then give me the extra two weeks," she stated bravely, hiking up her chin defiantly towards Ratchet. "I'll take them—for Optimus. And nothing you can say or do will change my mind."

"Are you kidding me?" Arcee scoffed scathingly. Her ice cold optics narrowed. "I'd only trust you as far as Raf could throw you, Decepticon."

Nightstalker glared back at the femme. That remark hurt because she knew Raf couldn't throw her anywhere. "This is my one chance to prove myself," Nightstalker persisted stubbornly, wings instinctively flexing in their confines. "I want Optimus back as much as you do, and I'm not going to gain anyone's trust by sitting around the base doing nothing. I AM an AUTOBOT and I will regain my place around here no matter the consequences."

"Oh, and you most CERTAINLY proved you were an Autobot by mutilating Optimus!" Ratchet scoffed scornfully.

"Enough, all of you!"

Cliffjumper's voice thundered through their bickering, and he jerked a thumb Nightstalker's way. "She's right. She can't prove anything by sitting here cooped up in the base. So fine, let her come. At this point she either hits or misses. If she ends up being a traitor, fine, it's better to have it out in the open now before she causes damage down the road—and at this point, we can still easily take her out since she's not had half the training she needs yet."

Nightstalker's brows puckered as she tried to figure out whether or not his words were a compliment to let her try or an insult that she wasn't good enough to do them real damage in the long run.

He shrugged, and his unreadable optics looked back at her as he said, "But we've gotta at least give her the chance to prove herself. So we'll take her, and judge her by her actions. Got it?"

No one could put up a fight to that. And so, Nightstalker found the stasis cuffs removed from her wings—and she had to violently suppress the urge to go running from the base for a fly until she nearly shut down her own processor—and she found herself grouped with Ratchet, Arcee, Bulkhead, and Cliffjumper.

Cliffjumper nodded at her as they went through the ground bridge, and she gave a grateful smile to him. He was giving her the chance.

I'll make you proud.