Before The War

The Pit-fighter's coliseum's roof never went past the ground; it was a hidden site underground. Only those who knew where it was would be able to find it, and even then there were long labyrinths to navigate. This tactic helped insure that the authorities couldn't turn up to try to shut them down, since they considered it to be a disgusting act and hardly fit for any bot to participate in. But, that was also true; the winner's were decided by the bot that survived the ordeal.

Pit-fighting was usually a mech's sport, where the biggest and baddest fought each other to the death. It wasn't a sport for weaklings or weak fuel tanks, since energon was often left splattered against the ground and walls, and the corpses of the dead fighters were dismantled for scrap and sold for whatever could be haggled by the local merchants. Pit-fighting was an art in itself, the way the gladiators battled, the sounds of the weapons striking each other, the screams of pain when one weapon met its mark, and finally, the gurgled sound of a dying mech, energon bubbling past their mouths before they offlined forever. This was no sport for simple, tender, weak individuals; this was a sport for the most brutal fighters, or in the case of a few, the quickest and most easily adaptable. Those few were femmes.

There might have been a handful of femmes who actually fought in the Pit-fights, each differing in their skills but all sharing a common love; the ability to render another mech helpless at their feet and a need to prove themselves superior. Their slight frames were seen as a weakness by the mechs, but they often used their feminism to lure the mechs into thinking that they won. Then they would move in for the kill. Few ever made it into the heavy-weight category, no matter how strong they were; that was a title held always by a mech. In spite of all of their strength and intellect, they did not possess the raw, brute strength that the larger mechs had and never made it past the medium-weight category.

Training was occurring in a secluded area of the coliseum for two of the highest-ranking femmes. Both were of Seeker molds, both within feet of each other in height, and both fought brutally in all of their fights, but that was where the similarities stopped. The smaller of the pair was black with red shoulder, arm, and chest plates, had purple optics, low-strung wings to lower her center of gravity and make it harder for her to be pushed around, and a wild, sadistic smile on her face. The other was mostly black with white arm and leg plates, high-set wings, green optics, and a hard set look of determination etched into her face. They hated each other, why, no one was sure, but it was almost impossible for them to get along. The smaller kept giving the larger pet names that made her sound like some mech's little house-mate and the larger hated it. They were rivals but were never pitched against one another; they brought in a huge crowd no matter what battle they were in and to have one kill the other would kill the income that was gathered.

The smaller gave her sword a quick swing, hoping to catch the larger off guard; but the other femme easily parried it before lunging with her own sword. They leapt away from each other, breathing heavy with fire in their optics. They lunged at each other again, trying to knock the other onto the ground and win the training match. The smaller took a swing with her fist and suddenly found herself catapulted through the air. With a shriek of shock she smashed into the ground, sliding along on her stomach and scratching the glass of her cockpit against the rough concrete. She placed her arms down on the ground and tried to lift herself up, only to have a foot shoved against her head and forced back down.

"I win this one," the other femme's voice stated coldly, adding the tip of her sword to the center of her back to add to the proclamation.

The smaller femme growled but didn't argue. "Fine," she grumbled in her odd, deep voice. "You win this one…but the next time, you're going down!"

"Just keep telling yourself that," the larger femme sneered before she turned and walked away. "And don't try any of your sneaking slag with me; I'm not in the mood."

The smaller femme grinned as she dragged herself to her feet. "But darling, I thought that fighting always put you in a good mood," she sneered in return.

"Can it, Shadowbreaker, before I rip that ugly head of yours right off your shoulders!" the other femme snarled as she spun around, her wings twitching in rage behind her.

Shadowbreaker grinned before giving her head a toss. "Temper, temper," she taunted. "You certainly wouldn't want to lose your self-control." The other femme snarled again as she took a threatening step forward. "Now, now! That's no way for you to behave, Blackfire."

Blackfire snorted. "Shut up," she snapped before she spun around. "When you get the guts to actually make things challenging, let me know," she added with an air of arrogance as she walked away and vanished through the door leading to the other rooms.

"Oh trust me, I will," Shadowbreaker sneered in return before leaving.

Blackfire snorted as she walked down the hallway, wiping the coolant off of her face as she went. Shadowbreaker was a pain in her aft, but the feeling was mutual; neither of them fully understood why they hated each other so much, but they knew that there was no pointing pretending to be caring with each other, because the other was more than likely to kill the first without hesitation. She snorted before she left her battle demeanor behind and adopted her party-loving, high-grade chugging, wild one instead as she entered the fighting arena.

"So, what I miss?" she asked a hulking mech that was leaning against the railing.

He glanced down at her and grinned before wrapping an arm around her waist. "Not much, doll," he replied with a grin. "Fight hasn't even started yet."

Blackfire grinned before she leant in closer; she had spotted one of the other Pit-fighters nearby and knew what he thought of mechs that claimed any femme that walked into the arena; time to get even with these scum-bags. "Good; I was hoping to watch it all happen," she replied sweetly, batting her optic shutters.

The mech let out a low purr as his hand traveled lower down her waist. "How'd you like to see my moves?" he asked with a seductive grin.

Blackfire giggled in a practiced fashion, signaling the other mech; this one's starting trouble. The hulking form of the other Pit-fighter moved slowly towards them, calculating where he could attack and not crush her in the process. "You know, that would be interesting," she whispered as she took a half-step backwards, "if I wasn't so disgusted with the way you treat femmes," she finished with a sneer as she gave him a shove, toppling him over from the move since he wasn't centered properly, and into the awaiting fists of Onslaught. "Let him have it," she added.

Onslaught grinned before he dragged the mech away into the darkness where there would be no witnesses. She gave a snort; thank Primus for mechs like Onslaught otherwise who knows what kind of mechs would just waltz into the coliseum and steal an innocent femme away. Well, as innocent as a femme could get for watching fights of this caliber. She shook her head as she turned back to the railing and leant over to see down into the ring. The owner of the coliseum was shouting out statistics and places to bet for the upcoming match; she already had her bets placed and knew that she was going to win big. She grinned; that new armor plating was going to be hers soon.

"And now, femmes and gentlebots, our two Pit-fighters!" he shouted into the stands. An explosion of hoots, hollers, screams, and whistles rang out as all the spectators gave their opinions. "Tonight, our defending champion, Steelfist, will be challenging our upstart mech! Weighing easily 500 tonnes, Steelfist!" he shouted as he pointed to the hulking, brute of a mech that had just stepped into the ring.

His armor was a deep grey while his optics were dark orange. A huge battle axe was sitting menacingly on his shoulder as he displayed his tight-packed armor. Several loud feminine squeals rang out, as well as sickening cries of "Steelfist!" from his hordes of female fans. Blackfire rolled her optics before letting out a loud "boo!", echoing several of the other mechs.

"And our upstart mech! Weighing a little over 450 tonnes," the announcer shouted.

"490!" Blackfire shouted down. "For crying out loud! Get your numbers right!" Others echoed her cry before the announcer lifted his arm to silence the.

"Weighing 490 tonnes, Megatron!" he shouted as the stands erupted into shouts.

Blackfire let out a loud whoop as the towering form of Megatron entered the ring. His pit-fire red optics burned with a passion as he held his swords tightly in his fists. His silver, black, and red armor glistened in the lights of the arena. His pointed shoulders earned several screams of adoration from his female fans, while he seemed to let it all blow over him; his optics were rested solely on Steelfist.

"Kick his aft, Megatron!" Blackfire shouted. "Show him how a real Pit-fighter does it!" The crowd let out a shout of agreement and the only acknowledgement that she received was the slight nod of his head before the battle began.

Steelfist moved first, swinging his battle axe around and bellowing. Megatron side-stepped, still too much of his own self to fight properly; he hadn't yet let his fighter side take over. Blackfire bit her lip as Steelfist whipped around to attack. Megatron lifted one sword and blocked the hit, but got knocked down onto the ground. She saw the momentary wave of panic cross his face as Steelfist grinned and swung the battle axe above his head, and for one spark-wrenching moment she thought he was done. But then he moved at the last second and kicked the other mech's feet out from under him.

"Yes," she whispered as he climbed back to his feet quickly.

His optics hardened, finally allowing his battle-self to take over. Steelfist clambered clumsily to his feet, showing Megatron exactly where his weak spot was. With a roar, he charged forward, quickly knocking the startled mech off his feet and back onto the arena floor. Steelfist's hands closed around his throat, trying to get him to submit in defeat where he might get a chance to live, but Megatron wouldn't have it. He maneuvered his hand slightly and plunged the sword deep into the other mech's side.

He let out a howl of pain, releasing Megatron's neck and allowing the silver giant to leap back and away. He was panting hard, massaging his neck slightly as Steelfist struggled to get back to his feet. Energon was trickling out of the wound, the sword still deeply embedded in it. Blackfire crossed her fingers and grinned as Steelfist ripped the sword out.

"Fool," she whispered as she watched the trickle of energon grow into a river that began to spread across the ground.

Megatron grinned slightly as Steelfist realized his mistake with a hiss of pain. The larger mech glared at him and snarled before charging again. Megatron darted out of the way, grazing his other sword against the wound, enlarging it and making the energon flow faster. Steelfist spun slowly around and Megatron spun quickly, slamming his shoulder into the other mech's chest, which sent Steelfist flying backwards and sprawling out on the ground. He walked over to the mech panting, and lifted his sword up. He paused only for a moment before he brought the sword down through the other mech's cranial unit with a crunch of metal and splatter of energon. Steelfist twitched once before he laid still, his energon flowing around him in a dark purple pool.

Blackfire punched the air as she let out a whoop. "Alright Megatron!" she screamed. The crowd followed her example, shouting at the top of their air intakes.

He looked around at the crowd and stood up straighter, lifting his chest up high as he inhaled. Blackfire placed her fingers in her mouth and let out a whistle as the owner of the coliseum walked forward to congratulate him and give him his winnings.

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"I got a thousand credits!" Blackfire sang out as she walked away from the betting booth, a huge skip in her step. "Green plating, here I come!" she squealed happily before she took off to find Megatron. She grinned as she spotted him leaning against a wall by the corner, his back to her and his arms crossed across his chest. She raced up and leapt onto his back.

"Whoa!" he laughed as he took a step forward. "Should have known you'd turn up," he added as he glanced back at her.

She grinned before she flashed the credit card in front of his face. "Look at that!" she chirped happily, her youth truly showing through. "A thousand credits!"

Megatron's mouth fell open. "You betted on me?!" he demanded.

"Come on, I knew you would win!" she replied. "Why not use that fact to help me get that new plating?"

Megatron sighed before he cleared his throat. "Blackfire, I'd like you to meet an old friend of mine," se stated evenly before he moved a hand out to address the mech that she only just noticed standing in front of him. "This is Northstar."

Blackfire looked up and jumped slightly on her friend's back. The mech that she just noticed was a Seeker, and a gorgeous one at that. He was tall, almost as tall as Megatron! He had the slender frame of the Seekers, but seemed to have more of it in his waist area, giving him an almost picture perfect body. His armor was midnight blue with a silver trim, dazzling in the dim lights of the coliseum, and luminous white flecks sprinkled across his frame with a large star-shaped one above his left optic. And what a pair of optics they were; deep, dark red, not quite the same colour as Megatron's pit-fire ones, but they were mesmerizing in the same way.

"Hello," she breathed, surprised by both the presence of a male Seeker in the coliseum and him. Usually, most male Seekers did not like being underground; females tolerated it in small doses.

The mech, Northstar, snorted. "I'm sure," se sneered. "If you are quite finished hanging from Megatron's neck, we were in the middle of a conversation."

Blackfire frowned before shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Northstar," she replied politely as she hopped off of her friend's back and onto the ground. "But I was unaware that you were even here. Also, it's rude to speak to someone that way, or did you miss that lesson during your development?" she snapped bitterly.

"I had the best lessons imaginable, femme," se replied, sticking his nose in the air. "Unlike you," he added as an afterthought.

Blackfire let out a gasp of disbelief. "Excuse me?" she demanded as she drew herself up, attempting to at least reach the bottom of his chin. "I may not have the best education, but I certainly have better manners, you ignorant little heap of sl…." She stated to snarl before Megatron reached out and grabbed her arm.

"Blackfire," he stated in a harsh voice, "Northstar is unaware of how things occur down here." She looked up at the silver giant and muttered under her breath. "He helped me out in getting here, please give him a little slack," he grinned before winking. "He's got a rod wedged up his aft," he added.

Blackfire giggled as Northstar let out a noise of anger. "Megatron!" he snapped.

"Loosen up," Megatron chuckled as he shook his head. "Tell you what, we'll talk again when we aren't somewhere that is causing you two true Seekers to panic. Think you can meet us at the bar?" he asked Blackfire.

She grinned and nodded. "As long as you're paying!" she laughed. "Mid-grade, no spiking, got it?" she added before she turned to leave. "I'd better go put this in my account. I'll see you later mechs!" she called as she took off.

Northstar glared after her. "How old is she?" he demanded of the larger mech.

"16 thousand," Megatron replied. "Why?

"Such a rude little brat!" he spat as he stuck his nose in the air.

"Northstar, my friend, you weren't any better." Megatron sighed before he wrapped an arm around his friends shoulder. "Come on, let's go cash in this card and get the credits out of it," he chuckled.

Northstar grumbled slightly as he followed his old friend away.

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Northstar lifted an optic ridge as he watched Blackfire chug back the mid-grade, beating out the other mech that had challenged her. Megatron chuckled as he swished his mid-grade around in his cube. "Try not to be so surprised," he chuckled. "She is quite the drinker."

Northstar muttered darkly as he gulped back his mid-grade; apparently, they weren't allowed to drink high-grade the day before a major practice day. He glared at the femme as she walked back over grinning, her steps only the slightest bit unsteady. She tried to sit down, missed her seat in the booth and landed right on his lap.

"Sorry!" she laughed as she sat up quickly. "Wow, my balance is gone," she giggled.

"And cratered," Megatron commented.

She giggled as she rested her head against Northstar's shoulder and grinned at Megatron. "Yeah, guess so," she replied with a goofy wave of her hand. "But that's what happens when you drink ten cubes of mid-grade."

Northstar grumbled before he stood up and gave her a small shove onto Megatron's side of the booth. "I'm going to get another drink," he stated, glaring at the femme as she latched onto the silver mech's arm.

He walked over to the bar and sat down, grumbling and glaring at the other femme as she easily threw herself over his best friend. A chuckle drew his attention to a ground-based mech beside him. He went to turn his nose up in disgust but decided against it.

"What's so funny?" he demanded.

"You glaring at those two Pit-fighters," the mech replied as he gulped down the purple liquid in his cube.

Northstar snorted. "Excuse me?" he demanded again.

"You are obviously very jealous," the mech replied. "Don't be; those two care nothing for serious relationships."

Northstar tilted his head. "Explain."

"Megatron is too focused on the champion title to care for a relationship beyond friendship. Blackfire," he laughed, "good luck getting her focus to rest on any mech! She would rather watch them either die on the other end of her sword, or be her body guard. The fact that the two of them are so close to each other in friendship is amazing."

Northstar tilted his head and glared at them again. That glitch thought she was going to replace him, did she! He had been his best friend before she had even been old enough to have friends! How dare she have thought that she could just shove him aside! How dare she!

The mech chuckled again. "You are a very jealous mech," he commented as he took another gulp of his drink, earning a glare from Northstar. "She won't replace you. Maybe you should try getting to know her."

Northstar glanced at her thinking the suggestion over and felt his fuel tank freeze in shock. He'd never noticed that her optics were green before. They were green and yet, she didn't appear to view him as a threat, only another mech that she had been introduced to by a good friend; he, who had the noble red optics, ones that were supposed to mean that he didn't lose anything he had, was jealous. Talk about a green-eyed monster coming out in him. He glanced at the mech, only to find him gone. He sat up straighter, but gave himself a shake slightly before rising to his feet and walking back over to the booth.

"Took your time," Megatron commented as he stroked Blackfire's helm gently as she rested it on his shoulder.

His fuel tank gave an angry jerk as he focused on the pair and something inside him screamed that it should be he doing that. It should be he with the femme on his arm, he should was stroking her helm, smiling as she snuggled closer. But why should he be feeling this? He only just met her! And he had hated her a moment ago! What was wrong with him?!

"You ok?" a female voice cut through his panic. He glanced up and met a pair of dark green optics. His breath hitched in his chest and he nodded. She frowned, her optic ridges running together as she stretched her hand across the table towards him. "You sure? You look startled."

He took a deep breath before looking into her optics. "I…want to apologize for how I've been treating you," he stated evenly, lifting his head up. "It wasn't, isn't, right to treat you like that."

Blackfire's optics widened slightly before they were covered by her optic shutters and she smiled. "Thank you, that's so sweet!" she giggled, still intoxicated but not enough to cause her mind to work incorrectly.

Northstar grinned. "But of course," he snickered.

The next thing he registered he was pinned to the seat of the booth by a small body and a set of lips. He blinked in shock down at the black and white femme as she held onto him. "You are so full of yourself," she breathed as she pulled back, an odd twinkle in her optics. "But, that's what makes you so attractive," she added before sliding off of him and walking away from the booth, shouting at another mech for something.

"What…just happened?" Northstar asked as he stared after her.

"You just won the affection of one of the most powerful femmes in the entire Pit-fighters association," Megatron replied as he took a swing from his cube. "Congratulations."

Northstar blinked a few more times before he grinned and lounged against the back of the booth. "I just beat you out for a femme," he teased.

"You can have her; she's a little too strong for my taste," Megatron replied.

"She kicked your aft during training, didn't she?"

"Yes."

Northstar snickered before he returned his optics to stare at Blackfire's back. He would have to start hanging around more if he truly wanted her; he couldn't have some other mech claim her before he even got the chance to know her.

Author's note: Well, this obviously takes place before Ultimate Bond. Megatron's a Pit-fighter, same with Blackfire, and Northstar is the stuck-up friend from the citadel. Yeah, they snap and yell at each other, than fall in love; don't you love life? Northstar is property of Shadowbreaker777; I do not own him.