Megatron entered the dimly lit room, his optics casually scanning his surroundings. The mech before him did not even look up, but a slight twitch in his servos showed that the former warlord's presence had not gone unnoticed. For a moment, the only sound was Megatron's pede steps as he approached the desk.

"Ah, an office," he said. "How I despise such places."

"From what I have heard, your office is quite ornate," Optimus said, a trace of amusement in his voice as he shut the datapad he had been looking at.

He shrugged. "Someone insisted that such an office would show that I am...sophisticated."

A small smile tugged at Optimus's mouth. "I wonder who that could have been."

Megatron straightened up, the friendly banter coming to an end. "And what is this report that you needed to share before I made my presence known to the Selected?"

Optimus nodded. "We have received word of a small group of rebels moving north of Iacon. I have sent my troops out to intercept, but we will not hear from them in at least a couple of days."

Megatron slowly nodded, assessing the words for a hidden meaning. News of rebel attacks was not new to him. There were some Cybertronians who did not want peace. Either because they refused to accept the thought of Autobots and Decepticons living together with no clear winner, or they were aware that the two Heirs would topple the once mighty power of the Council that was rising from the ashes.

While it was difficult for Autobots and Decepticons to live together peacefully, there was hope that it would all change. But so far, Autobots seemed content with living in Iacon while Decepticons were staying in Kaon.

"And why would such news trouble you so?" Megaron asked.

"Because of who was spotted with that particular rebel group," Optimus said, opening the data pad he had been previously looking at.

Megatron leaned in with a frown, scanning the report. He looked back up at Optimus, pushing the report back. It read one name that stood out to both mechs: Dirge.

"You have confirmation?" Megatron asked.

Optimus nodded. "He was sighted twice by our scouts. That alone gives me enough pause in our plans." He looked back up at Megatron. "Is there anything else you can share about him?"

Megatron snorted. "Dirge is a silent being. Fear is his weapon. Although, Starscream has described him more than once as a control freak. I am inclined to agree with him, as Dirge has had his moments when things spiraled out of control and he became a useless, blubbering mess. However," here, he glanced at Optimus. "He is not to be underestimated."

Optimus nodded. "They never are."

Megatron leaned forward. "What are you going to do?" The unspoken question was, what could they do? He could always have Soundwave send out the minicons for a simple assassination. Though, knowing that Dirge was out there was a bit of an advantage. Plus, they would need to find out if anyone else was involved.

"I plan to send out our scouts to keep an eye on him. He may be planning something more than what we already know."

Megatron nodded. "Someone is distributing him with weapons and tech."

Optimus raised an optic ridge. "You believe that someone in the higher-up is a traitor." It was not a question. Both leaders were aware of the possibility.

"Is it such a surprise?" Megatron asked.

"Not at all," Optimus said, rising up from his seat. "It is concerning, but not surprising. But the timing of it all is rather unsettling."

That was a good point, and one Megatron had been thinking of. It was only a matter of time before they had to introduce the Heirs to each other. Though he hid it well, Megatron was rather unsettled about the whole ordeal, and it was not about the possible threat.

It was about Arcee. He had known it would be somewhat difficult for him to go through with this arrangement. But it had to be done to achieve peace and a better future for her.

It was just unfortunate that it had to come at a price.

"I will have Soundwave increase his efforts in uncovering this possible traitor," he said. If anyone could find the mole, it was Soundwave.

"What about a report on your...assets?" Optimus asked, shooting him a look.

Megatron bristled. It had been one of many debates on whether or not they should reveal their spies to each other. It was no secret that during the war that Autobots and Decepticons had sent out spies. But since this treaty, it had been decided to keep the identities of these spies a secret in order to keep them safe and allow them to return to a normal life.

But, it was not secret to Megatron that Optimus kept tabs on his own former spies, just as Megatron did. War and experience had taught them that trust should not be handed out so easily.

"I will think about it," Megatron said stiffly. Which meant, as Optimus had come to learn, as 'no.' "But I will inform you if Soundwave finds anything of use on this traitor."

The door to the office suddenly opened to reveal a tall mech who walked right in. "Greetings Megatron," Sentinal said with a polite nod, his armor shined for the evening. "Optimus," he said, tilting his crowned helm.

"Sentinal," the Prime said politely. "Megatron and I were finishing up some diplomatic options." Megatron noticed how he casually turned off the datapad before sliding it off the desk.

"I am aware of that, as your lovely spark mate reminded me when I made my way up here. But you both need to remember not to overwork yourselves. The Selected are already gathering down there, and your absence has been noted."

Megatron glanced at Optimus. "Some other time then, Prime," he said before striding out of the room. He was well aware that their conversation would have to be resumed. This new information bothered him. While he was aware that some former Decepticons or Autobots would rise up to stir up trouble, he had never thought it would be the likes of Dirge. He had thought that the Decepticon would have died, as he seemed to attract death more so than most.

"Soundwave," he ordered gruffly, the masked mech stepping forward and matching his strides. "Dirge. Find the mech, and watch him. Pull up all reports of his past activities. And I mean everything."

Soundwave nodded, heading off to do as he was ordered. The mech was never comfortable with social events anyway, so missing this event was not a loss to him. Megatron knew that, and it amused him for some reason. Maybe it was because the masked mech was never good at socializing. He was a Decepticon. He was used used for other things. Things that this younger generation did not need to find out.

The sounds of music and laughter pulled Megatron away from his grim thoughts, and he immediately scanned the room for Arcee. He saw her on the other side of the room, chuckling at something she found amusing. Ark was standing by, blending into the shadows yet keeping a sharp watch over her charge. He chuckled, remembering Arcee's outrage at the thought of having a bodyguard. But Megatron had been firm. Kaon was not the safest place to be, yet he refused to send Arcee away. He needed her nearby, and he was glad she was.

Arcee happened to look up, catching his gaze, She grinned at him, raising her glass in acknowledgement. He smiled back, making his way towards her.

"Bumblebee?" the soft voice asked.

Bumblebee looked up sharply, shoving the precious datapad he had been reading in a nearby compartment. "Yeah, Elita?" he asked.

"Are you alright?" she asked, knocking on his door.

"Uh, yeah," he said, looking around as he made sure he looked presentable.

"Alright," she said, a trace of worry in her voice. "Can I come in then?"

"Um, sure?" he said, wincing at how uncertain he sounded.

His berth room door opened in an instant, and Elita strode in, her bright blue optics alight with concern. Bumblebee couldn't help but smile, her presence always bringing comfort. A faint memory came back to him, one when he was but a child.

"I found my spark mate," he announced, stumbling over to Optimus who caught him.

Optimus chuckled. "Oh really? And who might that be?"

"Elita," he said simply, his small form sitting on Optimus's lap.

"And why is Elita going to be your spark-mate?" he asked, his optics twinkling with amusement.

"Because she loves me and is very nice," he chirped. "But don't worry. We can share her."

Optimus smiled. "But I don't think I want to share my spark-mate with anyone."

"But sharing is nice," Bumblebee pointed out.

"Yes, it is," Optimus agreed. "But a spark-mate is only meant for the one being they are to share their life with. Besides, Elita cannot be your mother and your spark-mate at the same time"

Bumblebee looked up with a frown. "Okay," he said. "Then you will have to help me find my spark-mate."

"You seem to be in a good mood," Elita commented, pulling him out of his thoughts and memories.

He smiled. "Yeah."

She cocked her helm, optics bright with understanding. "Are you nervous?"

He fiddled with his fingers, looking down. "A little," he confessed.

She took his arm, her reassurance flooding through him. "Don't be," she said. "We will be down there with you. Besides, it is a simple get together. A bunch of posh nonsense to make the Decepticons feel welcomed."

Bumblebee grinned. Very rarely would Elita speak of the Decepticons in such a way. But her statement showed just what she thought of the life in politics.

"I honestly never thought I would be attending such fancey events when I was a librarian," she said. "And I can guarantee neither did Optimus and Ironhide."

If they had time, Bumblebee would have asked her to tell him about her previous life. Her life before the war, when she had been living a simple life. But, there were Cybertronians waiting for them. And while the absence of Bumblebee the Selected would go unnoticed, Elita-One's would most certainly raise some questions.

Elita brushed off a small speck of dirt that probably wasn't even there. She gazed at him, nodding in approval at the shine in his yellow armor. "You look very handsome," she said, a note of pride in her voice.

Bumblebee straightened up. "Thanks," he said, beaming. "And Ironhide? Is he spick and span as well?"

She laughed. "Screeching like a terricon the whole time. He proclaimed that his protective covering of dirt was being removed."

Bumblebee chuckled, the very image amusing. "I wish I could have seen that."

"They nearly had to send for Optimus," she chortled. "Us femmes could hear Prowl screech when he was thrown out." She looked up with a look of triumph. "There's that twinkle in your optics we were missing." She hooked her arm with his. "You ready?" He knew that if he said 'no', that she would stay with him and find some way to explain his absence.

But he was not a sparkling anymore. He was the Heir. He had no idea why he was so nervous, but there was a pit of anxiety forming. Maybe it was because he knew that in less then a meta-cycle, he would unite the two factions. And that meant he was going to meet his future spark mate even sooner. It was all moving so fast. Too fast. The years of his sparklinghood seemed like nothing more than a distant memory.

He smiled, his doorwings perking up. "Ready," he announced.

Elita frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," he answered, leading her out of the room. "I'm hungry anyways. And the energon sweets I saw looked really good."

He could tell Elita was unconvinced, but she did not push for more answers. "Make sure you complement Ironhide on how clean he looks," she whispered as he began to enter the room. She could not go out with him at the same time, as it would look odd that Elita-One was escorting a Selected. But she would emerge in a few minutes, timing his arrival so that it would not look staged.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Elita emerged from another entrance, her helm held high and her pink paint job shining in the light. She caught his stare and winked at him. It happened so fast that one would have missed it had they not been watching. But he saw it, and he winked back before mingling in the crowd.

"You look great Ironhide," he complemented, trying to keep his expression neutral.

Ironhide huffed. "Yeah, well tell Elita that I blame her for this," he gestured to his now shiny paint job. "This is just too fancy for me. I feel exposed!"

"At least you'll blind the enemy with your new look," Bumblebee commented as he picked out a sweetened energon candy.

Ironhide grumbled at that as he reached for a sweetened energon candy as well. But at that moment, a blue servo swatted his servo away. "Don't touch," Chromia scolded.

Ironhide sputtered at his mate. "Wha-? What do you mean?" He gestured at Bumblebee who was helping himself to another. "How come he's allowed to have sweets?"

"Because you are a member of Optimus Prime's most trusted advisors while Bumblebee is not," Chromia said as she daintily took a sip of her drink. "Which means you must keep your image as one. Which also means no picky fuel, and don't eat with your fingers."

Ironhide gaped at her while Bumblebee nearly choked on the candy as he snorted in amusement. Ironhide narrowed his optics. "All right," he grumbled, walking off. "I'll snack on those 'refreshments' that are meant to starve us all with their small sizes."

"Don't forget which utensil to use," she called back with a grin. Ironhide's grumble was her only answer. She chuckled before snagging a few pieces of the energon candy, winking at Bumblebee as she did so. Bumblebee just held his servos up, looking away with a smile.

His optics scanned the area around him, recognizing some Cybertronians. He could see Red Alert conversing with Ratchet nearby. Jetfire's booming laugh could be heard from across the room, and he could see Jazz slipping something in the drinks. He made a mental note to avoid that particular refreshment table.

He also saw members of the Selection. Moonracer was chatting with Firestar, along with Smokescreen who was chuckling at whatever the femmes had just said. Bumblebee was just about to make his way over when someone stopped him.

"Bumblebee," Megatron said simply, stepping in front of him. "It has been a while."

Bumblebee nodded politely. "So it has been." Over the many years, he had observed how Optimus, Elita and Ratchet spoke when it came to politics. Their speech patterns would change as would their mannerisms. And during those years, he had practiced changing his speech as well. Not to mention, Elita had tutors come in just so he could get a feel on how he should speak. "How are matters in Kaon?"

He thought he could detect a glimmer of amusement in Megatron's optics. "Matters are well, as they always have been."

Bumblebee knew for a fact that that was not as true as some would say. But he was not about to point that out. He had met Megatron on numerous occasions. And while the former warlord never gave him a reason for Bumblebee to be afraid of him, he was wary of him. He wondered if it would always be like that.

"The surveillance in the former gladiatorial pits have been increased," Megatron continued.

Bumblebee nodded. "That is good news, I suppose."

"It is indeed," Megatron said.

Bumblebee had the distinct feeling that this was no more than a way for Megatron to observe him. The thought did not sit well with Bumblebee, who resisted the urge to fidget. But the benefits of being marked as a Selected meant that they had to keep their 'conversation' short, or risk answering some very difficult questions to some observant onlookers.

A Cybertronian snagged Megatron's attention, giving Bumblebee the perfect excuse to escape. Politely excusing himself, he slowly made his way across the room, despite the urge to scurry away from Megatron's sudden, watchful optic.

"I hope he didn't intimidate you," a sudden voice asked.

Bumblebee grinned, turning to look at Arcee who was smirking in amusement. "Megatron?" he asked. "Of course not. The conversation was going nowhere, in fact. And it was painfully obvious."

Arcee nodded, glancing over at Megatron who was conversing with another Cybertronian. "Kind of like how this conversation is going, huh?" Her optics twinkled to show she was teasing though.

Bumblebee sighed. "Kind of. Though I am desperate to save it." His optics widened in realization. "How did that dare of yours go?"

Arcee grimaced. "Terrible. Part of the bet included me finding a group of sparklings and presenting them with the study. I just ambushed them near their play area and started talking like a profesor. Their creators were starting to question my mental health."

The mental image of Arcee, or any Cybertronian, ambushing sparklings for a dare was amusing to say the least. He found himself chuckling.

Arcee frowned. "Laugh at the sheer embarrassment I had to go through. I am pretty sure it is hilarious."

"Sorry," he snorted.

Elita happened to look up and notice Bumblebee chatting with a blue femme. Recognizing who she was brought a smile to Elita's face.

Strong, familiar arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. She closed her optics, leaning against the strong mech who was embracing her.

"What are you looking at?" Optimus asked.

The smile grew. "A young Cybertronian."

Optimus chuckled. "Should I be worried?"

"Maybe," she admitted. "He did ask me to be his spark-mate a lot sooner than you did."

"Well, he was confident," he protested softly.

"And you were not?" she asked with a grin.

"You two make me sick," Jazz complained as he walked by.

"Only because you haven't found a spark-mate," Chromia said, shooting the silver mech a glare as he rushed away from the blue and silver femme. She looked at Elita, mouthing 'decorum' before walking away.

Elita sighed, straightening up, though she did not step away from Optimus's hold, nor did he left go of her. There were certain rules they had to follow; be it the expectations they had to hold up, or their actions.

"I never thought Chromia would be the one to remind us of decorum," Optimus commented.

She nodded. "She has been pretty strict when it comes to the political game."

"I think it is because she sees it as a war zone, and one that she must conquer," he said.

She sighed. "That sounds like Mia." Her gaze traveled back to Bumblebee who was still chatting with the small, blue femme. Though this time, Smokescreen had joined in. They looked happy, relaxed even, for two different factions who were still at odds with each other. At first, she had been worried that the Autobot and Decepticon Selected's would be stand offish with. But Bumblebee and Smokescreen were friendly mechs, and Arcee was an intelligent femme who knew how to work around in this crazy life they all found themselves in.

"We have made further plans for Kaon," Optimus commented.

Elita sighed, understanding what that meant. The Selected Autobots would go to Kaon to mingle with the Selected Decepticons, just as they were doing in Iacon. But that meant either Elita or Optimus would have to stay in Iacon to make sure things ran smoothly. Then, everyone would return to Iacon for the grand reveal of the Heirs. That was all months away. But still...

"Are you going?" she asked

"We have not come to a decision yet," he answered.

She nodded, leaning into him. She ignored Chromia's warning about decorum. That could wait. At the moment, she was content with watching Bumblebee enjoy the company of his friends.