"Rattrap, what did I say about entering my chamber without knocking?"

"Chamber? Isn't it more like… an office, boss?"

"What did I say? What did I say about entering a room where I'm pondering gravely important state issues?"

"Y-you said to call your frequency first, b-but boss, this is important. You have a-"

The heavy steps interrupted Rattrap's words. Starscream, as usual, was facing a window, looking down at the city he governed. The sound of someone approaching stopped and whoever it was was now standing right at the door. Well, not "whoever". Starscream knew who. And he didn't dare to turn around.

"I need a ship."

The voice that made people abandon their hope. The last thing countless lives heard before dying an agonizing death. When it filled the room it also filled Starscream with a familiar cold. Like a poison, both dread and prideful defiance spread through his systems. He looked up and it was there – the infamous grin on his face plate curled his mouth in an conditioned reflex. Oh yes, he was ready now. With his chin up and optics narrowed to almost a line, he turned around on his struts slowly, almost theatrically.

Megatron stood in the doorway, with his arms folded, but as soon as Starscream faced him, his posture tensed up and he put his arms down, fists clenched. Rattrap stood before him curled up, looking as if he wanted to sink into the floor. Starscream's and Megatron's gazes met, and for a few seconds they just stood, like they were checking where's the weak spot.

"Rattrap, next time remember about calling me first before entering. You may leave." - Starscream stood like a statue and even the grin on his face haven't completely disappeared while he was talking.

"Thank you, boss-man… boss… sir…"

"Rattrap, make haste."

Rattrap shook a little like he was electrocuted, turned into his alt-mode and ran beneath Megatron's feet.

"So. A convicted mass-murderer is asking the chosen leader of Cybertron to give him a ship. A military grade one, I presume. And Hot Rod sent you to intimidate me, so I wouldn't refuse. You know what I think about that? I think I should have you arrested."

Megatron took a few steps forward and Starscream felt an urge to step backwards. He shook off the feeling and straightened his back even more. He's not giving up his ground yet. This is his time, he's the Chosen One and no one can reach him, not even Megatron.

"You can't. I haven't finished my mission."

"Oh, I see. By the way, how is it going? By the fact that you lost your entire ship I can guess pretty poorly. I heard there was a munity. People didn't like you in charge. Thought you were a bad leader. I guess some things never change."

"Look." Megatron took some more steps forward. Now he stood in the middle of the brightly lit room which made him look oddly exposed. "I'm not here to intimidate you. I wasn't sent by Rodimus like some errand bot either. We need a ship to catch up with the Lost Light. Not military grade, but something fast for sure. I'm here for that. And… I just… wanted to talk."

"Talk about what?" Starscream frowned, unable to hide his anger behind usual demeanor.

"I want to make amends."

"So you wanna talk how you always treated me like a personal punching bag? How you involved me and countless others in never ending war out of… what? Revenge? Spite? Because you're a sadistic psychopath?"

"Yes, I did all of that. I had a reason. I… we fought for something together. You also believed in our cause."

"No, I believe in equality. That you can have a choice and no one can dictate your life! I believe the biggest strength is your own and that if you are strong, others should listen to you! I believe in THAT, not whatever you were preaching!" Starscream stopped talking as soon as he realized he was yelling. The whole "peace" thing made him too emotional. His smirk came back on his face, partly mocking himself for being so weak. "You know what I think about your so-called "reign". You heard it yourself during that farce of a trial."

"I was mistaken." Megatron looked down, visibly flustered.

"What?"

"About you. I told you this – that you were almost a perfect Decepticon. I thought the only thing you lacked was brutality. A Decepticon way was to take what you want, no matter the cost, and find happiness and fulfilling in your ways. I wanted to groom you. To shape you into myself, or even someone greater, as you were always so good with words and people, unlike me. I wanted to add the skill to be a sadist into your repetitore. But instead what I did was… I broke you. I've thrown you into most awful situations. You started to hate me because of that and I hated you because you never changed-"

"You broke me? That's a pretty bold thing to say. That you had any impact on me. Well, you had, literally speaking, when you threw me on the wall or across the spacebase, but nothing more. You tried to brake me, but you failed."

"You lost your touch. I know the basics of politics, the ones I refused to use. I just admitted I was wrong. And now you are wrong. You need to form alliances, to make compromises. I talked to Windblade, he asked me if I could soften you up. Make you more trusting towards the Council. He thought we were friends."

"She. Windblade says she's a she". – snarled Starscream, ignoring the last sentence.

"Sorry. It can be confusing."

"Yeah. It's almost as bad as with the Earthlings, with them being so fragging small you couldn't even tell one from another, not only use pronouns they chose. Not that I ever cared about them much…"

Oh, scrap. Starscream scolded himself in his thoughts for putting his guard down and starting a small talk with a bot that should be his nemesis. Suddenly he felt very tired.

"Anyway." Megatron ended the awkward silence that started to grow. "I'm not asking for forgiveness. Saying "sorry" won't fix anything and would be embarrassing for both of us. I just wanted you to know I understand. And maybe… talk. Once in a while."

"No, we shouldn't talk, or meet up, or anything. I don't need your understanding. If you truly changed, which I doubt anyway, we need to move on. I don't want to see you ever again. Go away. Take a ship, whichever you want, from my fleet. See, I trust you enough to believe you won't prank me and take my flagship, as I would trust the Council or Windblade. So… just leave."

Megatron took a step back and shifted his weight a little, hesitant to move. Finally he took a small notepad from his mid-section planting and put it on Starscream armchair.

"I wrote something. I wish you to read it."

Starscream moved to a chair, took a notepad and threw it across the room. He and Megatron were mere inches from each other, before Starscream turned around and stood in his usual spot by the window, facing outside. "We're done. Goodbye."

…

The sun was setting, and Starscream was reading. It was a poem. He picked it up. It was bad. Well, not the poem, but him picking it up. He couldn't decide if he felt guilty or not because of that. Whatever, he thought, if Megatron is really so sensitive now, he can as well humor him. He took his comm and wrote /I've read it. It's scrap./

Send.

Received a message.

/Obv./

Obviously? What the frag is this supposed to mean? Well, it didn't matter.

Oh, but it did. And Starscream hated that.