It took Soundwave nearly two hours to hack past the copy-protection on the Prime's copy of the Covenant of Primus. If Starscream hadn't been so concerned about their plan, he would have enjoyed seeing Soundwave struggle. 'Soundwave superior'? Soundwave OVERHYPED was more like it. Of course Megatron had always given him the easy tasks. Favoritism was such an ugly thing.

Fortunately for the Decepticon cause, Starscream was there to take on the difficult jobs . . . like thinking of an explanation for how everyone had missed this 'relic of Primus' when Optimus was taken prisoner.

"We'll blame Steve," he said.

Optimus blinked. "What?"

"Steve neglected to check your subspace before he put you in the brig," Starscream invented.

"That is completely plausible," Knock Out said, nodding.

The Prime's brow furrowed as he glanced at Steve, who was standing guard by the door. "But won't Megatron be furious with him?"

"Yes," Starscream said. "With him."

"Not us," Knock Out said, just in case Optimus was slow in the processor.

Optimus' frown deepened. "Steve admires you greatly, Starscream."

"He certainly does, he's not totally stupid. He'll be happy to help."

"Thrilled!" Knock Out said cheerfully. "Really, we're doing him a favor."

Optimus Prime looked unconvinced.

During the negotiations, Optimus Prime had one primary goal: protect the people of Earth, including Jack, Miko, and Raf. That meant making sure that their home remained unsullied.

Surprisingly, Knock Out and Starscream had quickly (one could almost say eagerly) agreed to sabotage the plans to rebuild the Omega Lock. Soundwave seemed less enthused, but he hadn't outright objected.

Instead he offered a condition of his own: in return for the safety of Earth, Optimus and Ratchet had to swear that Megatron's plan to reformat the Decepticon troops and his spark's location in his . . . ah . . . his undercarriage would remain a secret, even from the rest of Team Prime. And with so much on the line Optimus and Ratchet had readily agreed.

"As though we can trust them to keep their end of the bargain," Ratchet had muttered.

But now, standing in Shockwave's laboratory, the 'Cons were doing just that. Soundwave hacked into his computer with ease while Knock Out and Soundwave hovered behind him, egging him on.

"That's right, Soundwave, delete everything," Starscream drawled, smiling in a way that could only be described as deviously. "We must leave a clean desktop for First Lieutenant Shockwave, mustn't we?"

"But why delete the data when we could corrupt it? Just picture it . . . a few changes here and there and ka-BLAM, his precious project explodes!" Knock Out laughed.

"That would be an option if his project weren't attached to the underside of the ship," Starscream said.

"But the explosion wouldn't be that big . . ."

As they squabbled (and Soundwave ignored them), Optimus glanced at Ratchet, who was watching the scene with his arms crossed. "I am guessing there is bad blood between them and Shockwave."

There was a crash of glass. Optimus and Ratchet looked over to see a shattered beaker at Knock Out's feet.

"Whoops," Knock Out said. He batted another beaker to the ground as they watched. "Whoops again! Heh heh heh."

"Yes," Ratchet said drily. "I'm guessing you're right."

"Optimus! Ratchet!" Bumblebee rushed peer at them through the containment field as Knock Out and Starscream escorted them back to the brig. "Are you all right?"

"We are," Optimus assured him, stepping into the cell as Knock Out gestured him in. "The Decepticons merely wished to question us."

"Quit crowding," Ratchet grumbled as the rest of the Autobots swarming around them, checking for damage. "As Optimus said, we're perfectly fine."

"Yeah, well they won't be fine by the time I get through with them!" Miko said. She stabbed a finger towards Starscream, who was already heading towards the exit. "Just wait till I get the Apex Armor again, you big jerk! I'm gonna rip off your wings and stuff them up your—"

Starscream slapped the door panel with his fist and it hissed shut, cutting her off.

"Why must everyone be so obsessed with backsides?" As he stalked down the hall the memory of that little organic pest beating him—well, not actually BEATING him but certainly inconveniencing him—while wearing the Apex Armor flashed through his mind. "You know, Knock Out, there's still time to drop those creatures into the void of space."

"I agree they're annoying, but we want to make sure Optimus Prime puts on his best performance," Knock Out reminded him. "And those three will give him an excellent incentive."

"The incentive could have been sparing the rest of that wretched planet."

Knock Out shrugged. "But they care about these three. They know them."

It was true that the Autobots had previously traded the Omega Keys for those three pests, "illogically" as Shockwave would say. So perhaps Knock Out was right. Ugh. Who cared about three miserable Earth germs anyway?

He had to focus. All the pieces were in place. Now it was time to put the plan into action.

He pressed his finger to his audial and activated his comm link. "Oh Steve, would you do a little favor for me~?"

Megatron's steps clanged down the hall with more force than usual; his fusion cannon swung ominously with each stride and his hands were curled into fists. He had received two comms in the past fifteen minutes, and they had both put him in a bad mood.

The most recent of these had been from one of the Eradicons guarding the brig, who had admitted that he had neglected to frisk Optimus Prime's subspace before jailing him. Now he had spotted the Prime surreptitiously drawing something from his subspace, "like maybe a weapon or something?". When pressed, he had not been able to provide any useful details.

The earlier comm . . .

Megatron's circuits burned with fury and humiliation at the thought of it. After months of strange behavior from Starscream—ducking out of the command center as soon as his shifts were through, diverting his optics from lingering gazes that he would have once eagerly responded to, repeatedly rushing from Megatron's chambers as soon as things began to get interesting . . . Megatron had lost his patience with whatever game his flighty Second was playing. Starscream hadn't even tried to assassinate him, which would at least have been an understandable ploy, if aggravating! No, he just skittered around like a nervous retro-rat.

Determined to settle things once and for all, Megatron had put on a fresh coat of polish, set a collection of prismatic crystals in front of the dimmed lights in his bedchamber so they cast shimmering ripples on the walls, and readied a rare, pre-war bottle of high-grade.

Then, rather than hinting around or casting lustful glances, he had directly ordered Starscream to meet him in his chamber within the hour.

And what had been the Seeker's response? What had that maddening glitch commed back?

'I'm busy.'

That was it. Two words. Not even softened by flowery praise or a sniveling excuse.

'I'm busy.'

Well, Megatron was busy too! Busy winning the war . . . no thanks to Starscream and the constant doubt he cast on Megatron's extremely clever and innovative spark strategy—which, by the way, had saved his life!

Just as he reached the brig, a thought struck him that made him freeze in mid-stride.

Could that be why Starscream refused his invitation? Was he disappointed that Megatron still lived? True, he had made attempts on Megatron's life before, but only in ways that had emphasized Starscream's cunning and intelligence. Practically flirting. Quite different from passively standing on the sidelines, hoping that the Autobots would strike Megatron down.

A scowl had settled on Megatron's face by the time he palmed open the door to the brig.

"Prime!" He forced his voice into an ominous calm as he strode in. "I hear you have been keeping secrets from me."

"Megatron," the Prime began, but his annoying bevy of Autobots interrupted.

"What's your problem, huh?" the big green one said, shouldering his way to the front of the group. "You already caught us all, what more do you want? A pat on the head?"

"Bulkhead . . ." Optimus put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Megatron's lip curled. The lack of discipline in the Autobot ranks was disgusting. Fortunately his army had no such issue. He swiveled to face the two Eradicons by the door, one purple and one silver. He didn't know which had commed him, so he barked at both of them: "Report!"

"S-sir!" the purple one saluted. "Uh, yes. The Prime had, uh, I saw that he had something. In his hands. And, uh, I must have accidentally forgotten to check his subspace w-when I put him in there . . . It was my job, it wasn't Air Commander Starscream's fault, for example . . ."

The silver Eradicon raised his hand. "It wasn't my fault either. Just for the record."

Megatron rounded on the purple bot. "You failed your duty so thoroughly that you did not think to check our greatest enemy for weapons?!"

"Now hang on." The small femme, Arcee, had her hands on her hips. "That doesn't make any sense. Optimus doesn't have anything in his subspace, we were all searched and—"

Optimus Prime cleared his throat. "Actually, Arcee, that is incorrect. I managed to retain one ancient relic. The rarest and most powerful of all." And the Prime pulled something gleaming and golden out of his subspace.

The Autobots gawked at him, too awed to respond (except for Ratchet, who merely grunted.) Megatron's optics bulged at the sight. Another relic? How many of the blasted things were there? And how could fate be stacked against him so thoroughly as to allow the Prime to best him even while jailed? He reached for the purple Eradicon, his optics blazing.

"Megatron," Optimus said quickly. "It was not the fault of your soldier that I retained this item." He bit his lip. "I . . . ah . . . There is a secret compartment within my subspace. Which is where the relic resides. None but a Prime could have opened it."

"And what relic is that, Prime?" Megatron goaded him. "What is your latest godly treasure that the ancients have bestowed on your worthy spark?"

Optimus' face did a strange sort of twitch at Megatron's words, but he responded quietly: "Jealousy does not become you, Megatron. It never has. You are powerful in your own right." His optics shifted to the Eradicon dwarfed by Megatron's frame. "It is beneath you to use that power against those who serve you faithfully."

"Faithfully," Megatron repeated bitterly, thinking of Starscream. 'I'm busy.' "Fah!" He shoved the Eradicon away and stepped closer to the cells. Let the Prime see that he was unafraid! "Enough talk! Show me the weapon!"

"Only talk," Optimus Prime corrected him. "For all that is in my possession is words."

He lifted the golden object: the most dazzling datapad Megatron had ever seen, glittering with jewels and strange creatures wrought in gold. The warlord was taken aback. "What is this?"

"The Covenant of Primus," Optimus said. "The, aherm, the true Covenant, which you have yet to lay eyes on."

Megatron's optics narrowed. Without shifting his eyes from the datapad, he said, "You, Eradicons—"

"The name's Steve, sir! And—"

"—release Optimus Prime from this cell. It seems we have much to discuss."

"—this is Tailwind! He's a great guy—"

"Go to hell, Steve," Tailwind said as he stepped forward to open the lock.

Starscream and the others didn't have any way of knowing exactly where Megatron and Optimus would talk. On the upper deck? In a conference room? On the command deck? Until they knew, they had little choice but to wait.

Starscream had to admit that there was not likely to be much they could do to actually influence the conversation anyway; nevertheless he wanted to listen in.

"And Soundwave has the advantage there," Knock Out said. They were both in the med bay, since it had a central location in the ship. Breakdown was bustling around in the backroom, making drinks. "Not fair, is it?"

"Certainly not," Starscream said. But he was only half paying attention as he mulled over the strange, ominous comm he'd received from Megatron a short time before.

'Meet me in my quarters within the hour. Come alone.'

Starscream worried his lip as he reread the message. Did Megatron know about their little plot? And was he solely blaming Starscream?! The injustice! Knock Out, Breakdown, and Soundwave were just as involved as he!

(Unless Megatron had been inviting him to his room to . . . But no. No. Their arrangement was conveyed through heated glances and meaningful silence, not words. And certainly not words as blunt as these.)

Perhaps Megatron knew about the plot but thought Starscream was uninvolved ? Starscream glanced towards Knock Out. It would be a pity to throw the medic under the bus, but surely he would understand . . .

Oh! Perhaps he could frame Shockwave! Now that was an idea.

"Helloooo." Knock Out waved a hand in front of Starscream's face, making him jerk. "Are you listening? Breakdown just said one of the Eradicons commed him."

"He did? What did he say?"

Breakdown set two glasses containing a fizzy orange liquid in front of them. Each was topped with a tiny umbrella. "It was Steve. He said Megatron just took Optimus out of the brig." He paused, looking bemused. "He also said Optimus had a stately demeanor, whatever the frag that means."

Starscream didn't care one whit about what Steve found 'stately'. "And where are they heading?"

Breakdown shrugged. "Didn't say."

"Useless!" Starscream groused. He pressed a finger to his audial. "Soundwave! Where are Optimus and Megatron right now?"

There was a pause, then Soundwave sent a schematic of the ship with a red X over a room quite familiar to Starscream. Megatron's private chambers.

"Knock knock," Knock Out called as he rapped on Soundwave's door. Behind him Breakdown snickered, because the words sounded superficially similar to Knock Out's name and the ship was filled with simpletons. With his superior hearing, Soundwave could easily pick up Starscream grousing as well. Resigned, Soundwave opened his door.

Knock Out's wrist was still lifted in mid-knock; recovering from his surprise he said, "Hello again, Soundwave. Under the circumstances we thought we might have a little viewing party—"

Starscream shoved his way to the front and rudely jabbed a finger at Soundwave's chest. "What's he doing? What's he saying? As Second in Command I demand to be kept abreast of the situation!"

"Don't you mean . . . a-BUTT of the situation?" Breakdown slapped his knee as he and Knock Out dissolved into raucous laughter. Soundwave shared a rare moment of solidarity with Starscream as they both stared in disdain.

"But seriously," Knock Out said, wiping a tear from his eye, "can we come in?"

By way of an answer, Soundwave shut the door in their faces.

He turned back to his private monitors, where he was indeed keeping abr— Where he was indeed monitoring the situation. He did not spy on Megatron as a matter of course, he was loyal (yes, even under the current circumstances, he was, he was!), but between Starscream's plots and the Autobots constantly sneaking onto the Nemesis, it would have been foolish and unsafe to keep his sensors out of Megatron's room. Still, Soundwave tried not to peer into his private chambers unless he had a particular reason to do so.

Megatron having a private meeting with a dangerous enemy certainly qualified.

Ignoring the continued hammering and cries of "Rude!" from the other side of the door, Soundwave studied the scene that Laserbeak (hidden in a ventilation duct) was streaming to him. Megatron had just entered his quarters and was gesturing Optimus Prime (who was not shackled, to Soundwave's disapproval) into the room. The lights in his quarters were dimmer than usual, Soundwave noted, with fractals of light undulating gently on the walls. The side table had been moved front and center, flanked by two chairs and topped with a bottle of high-grade, Crystallian vintage judging by the label.

"Have a seat," Megatron growled, making it sound more like an order than an invitation. He pulled out a chair and gestured towards it, as though he didn't trust the Prime to understand his words.

Soundwave was not an imaginative mech, but it crossed his mind to ponder how Starscream might react to this scene. A smiley face briefly flashed on his visor. He opened the door.