Rage, sharp and cleansing had pulsed through the Leader of the Decepticons the moment that Knockout and Breakdown had radioed in with the news that the Autobots had managed to ensconce Orion within their base. It was precisely where Megatron could not reach him, could not find him, exactly the very last place where Megatron wanted him to be.

Another surge of resentment was resurrected as Megatron recalled how the cowards hadn't even dared to deliver such a report—a resounding declaration of their failure—in person, preferring instead to radio in and then promptly cloak their signal so that Megatron could not track them. Clever and crafty, Megatron knew that Knockout was endeavoring to save his precious paint-job, taking Breakdown with him.

Briefly the Decepticon lord envisioned the pleasure he would take in raking his claws over Knockout's nefarious frame, of crumpling prone panels that wouldn't inhibit the red 'Con's usefulness or ability to transform, but would certainly make a permanent impression.

But beneath that raw anger another deep emotion stirred, one that surprised the embittered Decepticon Lord at its undiluted intensity. In the wake of his wroth aimed at Knockout and Breakdown, Megatron was confronted with the harsh realization that Orion was gone, taken from him again. More than this, he had grown accustomed to Orion's presence during those short weeks, something that he had been without for millennia. And now, after a brief shining span of time in which Orion—his confidant, his rightful second in command, his friend, his brother—had been restored, the Autobots had all so suddenly snatched him away. No doubt, at this very moment the softhearted fools were trying to resurrect Optimus' consciousness, working to once again rob Megatron of Orion.

No my brother, I will not let them. The Council took you from me once, murdering you under the mantle of Optimus Prime, I will not let the Autobots do so a second time.

So it was that Megatron took to the skies, lingering aboard the Nemesis only long enough to restore his depleted energon levels and leave Soundwave with the standing order to do everything within his power to locate Orion. Such was the one advantage that was still left to them; Megatron could at least track Orion where the Autobots could not.

Now, all that he had to do was to wait or somehow lure Orion out of the Autobot base, into the open so that he would be able to pick up his spark signature. The moment that Orion stepped so much as an inch beyond the confines of the base his signature would no longer be cloaked by whatever defensive systems the Autobots had in place; he would, in a word, no longer be able to hide. It was only as an after thought that Megatron added the order for Soundwave to detain Knockout and Breakdown the moment they dared to return to the Nemesis to refuel.

After all, Megatron did not want to miss the opportunity to have his little chat with the two errant 'Cons.

For hours now, Megatron had set himself at a harrowing pace, beginning at the destroyed—thanks to the machinations of MECH, another irritation he would deal with later—mining sight where he had last seen Orion, and moving outward in a radiating pattern, always searching, scanning for any sign of where his lost brethren could have been taken.

Unfortunately, because of the burning daylight and the glimmer the treacherous sunlight produced off of his silver armor, Megatron had been forced to keep to higher altitudes, lest he be discerned by a wayward human gaze. It was not that Megatron feared being spotted by a human—the race as a whole did little to impress him and a great many things to annoy him—but rather it was out of a desire to avoid the annoying repercussions such an encounter would almost assuredly result in. At the moment, Megatron wished his entire focused to be centered upon finding Orion, and not having to be diminished by the effort it would take—no matter how minimal—to shoot out of the sky a handful of inept jets piloted by similarly incompetent humans. Megatron had seen before what they woefully regarded as defensive aircraft; really it was laughable, he didn't know how Starscream could degrade himself by adopting such an unbalanced design. At least Megatron had enough self-respect not to sully his frame with such an appropriation and instead remained true to his original Cybertronian design.

Perhaps, once he recovered Orion and returned him to his rightful place aboard the Nemesis, they would try to restore Orion's original Cybertronian guise. How it goaded Megatron, like the irritating bite of a scraplet, to see Orion stuck with an Earthen alt. mode. That clumsy vehicle was too human, too weak; it was, in a word, one that belonged to Optimus, but not Orion.

Megatron was grateful when the sun at last set, giving him the relief and cover of darkness to descend, enabling his sensors to be all the more effective now that they were not functioning at such a removed altitude. For a time, Megatron lost himself in the silence of the evening, comfortable with the soft chime of updates from his scans that pinged at him, the only sound to accompany his thoughts. But Megatron found nothing, not a trace, a whisper or even a drop of energon to indicate any Cybertronians—let alone Orion—were in the area.

As the night deepened, so did Megatron's mood.

Though the Decepticon lord was not one to give up so swiftly, and thus it was out of determination—or, rather, stubbornness—Megatron did not slacken his pace, did not waiver in his search. The thought of what the Autobots may be telling Orion, of how they would endeavor to turn Orion against him, galled Megatron. If anything, Megatron would keep searching just to assure that the Autobots did not compromise his so carefully laid plans.

That evening, the time that Megatron spent searching through the darkness, was not unlike when he had spent years traversing galaxies, wanting, needing to so badly find any means he could to revive Cybertron. Though not as complete as the isolating depths of space, the desert night was not altogether unpleasant for the battered Decepticon Warlord. It gave him a chance to be alone with his thoughts, away from the crowded halls of the Nemesis where one could never drop their guard, away from the clamoring of lesser mechanisms where here, it was just his unquestioned might and authority coupled with the possibilities of the evening.

Much like any other Decepticon, Megatron was naturally inclined towards solitude, never yearning or wholly needing for the presence of another spark. Such was just one of the many reasons he had never sought out a sparkmate, that lifelong companion who knew their bonded down to every last errant encode and piston. Megatron always perceived such bonds as a potential weakness, it was the one chink in a bot's armor that could never be properly defended and would always be vulnerable. How many times now had the Decepticons used a bonded Cybertronian's sparkmate against them as leverage?

Join us or watch as we destroy your sparkmate; it was a threat not many could resist, and those who did, perished.

If anything, Megatron could never afford to be vulnerable; alone, he found strength, comfort. But Orion…disappointment and disgust rose within Megatron as he remembered the one femme that had dared to get close to Orion. If it had been up to Megatron, he would have killed her outright, not wanting to risk Orion developing such vulnerability. It was luck indeed that things turned out as they had, Megatron had to concede the one thing that Optimus Prime had done right was crush any possibility of Orion ever bonding with her.

The first few rays of the sunrise drew Megatron from his bitter reverie; for all his efforts he had found nothing. Wherever the Autobots were keeping Orion, it was well and thoroughly hidden, Megatron had to give them begrudging credit. More than a little annoyed, the Decepticon commander decided to return to the Nemesis, feeling his time was better spent in attending to other matters than dodging wayward human aircraft during the day as he attempted to continue his search.

So it was, Megatron spent the rest of the daylight hours in conference with Soundwave, and only sought to renew his efforts to locate Orion once night had fallen. Though, fortunately for Megatron, delaying his search efforts until after moonrise worked wonders in his favor. For the Decepticon lord had not been long in resuming his hunt when he chanced upon a lone blue motorcycle charging down a long abandoned stretch of roadway.

At first the appearance of such a vehicle gave Megatron little cause for pause; indeed he would have dismissed it outright if his energon detector hadn't sounded. That was when Megatron deigned to take a second look at the solitary motorcycle…a motorcycle that was solitary enough to have no rider.

Autobot.

The word hummed through Megatron's every processor, bringing his weapons and defensive systems online with a pleasant, delicious hum. It was not just any Autobot who had strayed across his path, but Arcee. He'd recognize her anywhere. How fortuitous it was that it would be the cycle-bot who would now serve as cannon fodder for him. Throughout the day Megatron's ire at the entire situation—coupled with memories from eons long past—had done anything but abate. He wanted to vent his temper, to shred the first Autobot he found into metallic ribbons; bullying whatever valuable information he could use out of them before off-lining them. Now, by extinguishing her spark, he would symbolically extinguish her sister's; for in destroying Arcee, Megatron would also be destroying the one last possible connection Orion may have had to Elita.

This way not only would Megatron get Orion back, but he would also eliminate any possibility, any danger, of Orion forming any attachments. This was, in a word, Megatron's chance to set things right, to correct the folly of the Council and establish things as they should have been all those eons ago: together he and Orion would crush the resistance of the Autobots once and for all, they would rule the remaining Decepticons and plunder this planet into nothingness. Only then would they return to Cybertron and work to reincarnate their rightful home.

And then…the universe itself would humble itself before the might of Cybertron, of the Decepticons, of Megatron.

Ah…what a glorious future, and it would all begin with the destruction of the cycle-bot.

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A/N: Sorry for such a short chapter! We promise the next one is on its way sooner rather than later!

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~~~ Epsilon Pax & Bumbee