To the guest user Neon- I cannot confirm nor deny which way it will go, but trust me, he shall have a big role in this story. Plus, he is one of my favorite TFP characters, so yeah, I am a bit partial to the pairing as well.

Alright, I shortened the song in this chapter. It was awkwardly long, but I really wanted it as the opener. This song is a bit more pop like then what I would have normally put here, but I imagine this played with just a guitar at a slower.

"Feeling my way through the darkness
Guided by a beating heart
I can't tell where the journey will end
But I know where to start.;

"They tell me I'm too young to understand
They say I'm caught up in a dream
Well life will pass me by if I don't open up my eyes
Well that's fine by me…

"I tried carrying the weight of the world
But I only have two hands
Hope I get the chance to travel the world
But I don't have any plans.

"Wish that I could stay forever this young
Not afraid to close my eyes
Life's a game made for everyone
And love is the prize.

"So wake me up when it's all over
When I'm wiser and I'm older
All this time I was finding myself
And I didn't know I was lost….

"Didn't know I was lost
I didn't know I was lost
I didn't know I was lost
I didn't know (didn't know, didn't know)."

Avicii, "Wake Me Up"

I may not remember who I am, but I do remember certain things. Little random memories: fragments floating through my mind. I should say processor, because that's what Cybertronians have, but I say mind because I can tell that I am not thinking like a Cybertronian.

Cybertronians do not dream.

I see flashes through my mind. Running down a street, giggling and laughing as I goad someone, a boy, to catch me. Sitting on a mech's shoulder, listening intently as he explains some data readings to me, only for attention to be stolen by… something over on a hill, something that made my spark stop and the mech to panic. Sitting contently in a sports car, one with a strong and loud humming engine, musing to myself how it is like a personal lullaby.

And then, I hear a deep, baritone voice, one with a slight scratchy quality to it.

"Don't you know, I'll never let go?
And you
Are safe if my arms."

I can feel the mech cradling me close to his chassis, and I turn my sleepy and groggy eyes to him. One last glance at the tall and intimidating yet surprisingly kind and gentle gunmetal gray mech, before the lullaby fades from my ears and sleep claims me.

A voice comes to me, one different then the last, yet one that seems so familiar with a similar protective, fatherly tone to it. It said in low and strong voice, "I love you too. Always remember that, my dear Everon."

I woke to a steady drumming sound. Not like someone was hitting anything. The sound was series of tapping from servos being dropped on a table in series. Whoever the offender was, they would bring their servos down in the rapid tapping series, and then pause for a few moments.

Drum. Two, Three, Four. Drum. Two, Three, Four. Drum. Two, Three, Four.

The sound was maddening. My servos twitched. My mouth tensed into a hard line, border-lining on a scowl. I just wanted it to stop, to allow me to sleep, to allow me to dream.

Yet the drumming continued.

Drum. Two, Three, Four. Drum. Two, Three, Four. Drum. Two, Three, Four.

Before the servos could come down again, they were stopped, clenched in my own servos from when my arm had instinctually shot out to stop the incessant noise. "I take it you are finally awake?" said a surprisingly calm and steady voice. Knockout. The medic who called me his little sister.

I snort, my eyes—optics— still stubbornly clenched shut as I lay on the medical berth upon my back. An uncomfortable position, given my wings. My wings… "I would still be sleeping if you weren't annoying me so much." I try peeking my eyes—Optics, I remind myself, You have optics now— open slightly, yet even in the dull light of the ship, my optics snapped shut once again, not wanting to adjust just yet.

"Why, little sister, you wound me. And here I thought you liked my company. Everyone loves my company." I can hear him stand, and I release my steely grip. In return, I can feel one of his servos slip under my back just below where my wings attached, and then he helped me to slowly sit upright. "But, unfortunately, you shouldn't stay under much longer then this. Too much recharge is bad for a Cybertronian's systems."

I groan, my optics still stubbornly held shut. I pull my feet close, knees jutting in the air, as I sit hunched on the medical berth, wings drooping off to the side, and try to adjust to being awake. "I feel like maybe I could have used another few hours…"

This time, he snorts. "A Cybertronian requires only about two hours of recharge at a time. You had three. If the sound hadn't of woken you up, and I wasn't worried about you attacking me, I would have resorted to shaking you awake."

I finally manage to open my optics, blinking rapidly as they slowly adjust to the room's lighting. I look about the med lab, still the same as before I entered shut down, before settling my optics on the red mech with purple detailing standing resolute beside me. When I first turned my gaze on him, I knew that while his flashy exterior and personality said otherwise, he was not a mech to be messed with. His stance was dangerous yet nonchalant, his facial expressions exaggerated and suggesting an unpredictable nature. And his optics… his blood red on ebony pool optics had a feral glint, one that suggested that if you were to be left at this mech's mercy, he would make you crave death.

Yet by the Allspark, why did he make me feel so safe?

"So," he drawls, bringing me out of my silent examinations of him. "All the scans came back clear. Besides a few lingering human elements, your systems have almost completely shifted." His ever-present smirk took on an almost proud edge. "I can now officially deem you a Cybertronian."

I grin and suddenly launch myself at the medic. He gives a startled cry as I tackled him in a hug while I giggled and laughed like a fiend. I may not remember much, if anything, about my time as a human, but I was ecstatic for some reason over the idea of being Cybertronian. Just then, the med lab doors slide open, and the hulking figure of Breakdown comes through.

Still grinning, my head snaps up from where I was hugging and straddling the stunned Knockout on the floor. Suddenly, I'm up and running towards Breakdown, proceeded by my launching myself upwards to latch my arms around his neck while my legs bent up into the air. Being careful of my wings, he wraps his arms around my waist and hugs me back while laughing, a motion that shakes both his frame and mine. "So, what did I do to deserve a hug?" He asks with a grin, and then quickly spins me, causing me to squeal and latch more tightly to his neck.

"I'm happy!" I yell excitedly. "I'm happy! I'm Cybertronian! And I… I just feel happy!" I yell while laughing. Breakdown chuckles in return and then stands me back on the floor. I immediately jump back and then start spinning, unaware of my slowly spreading wings. "I'm happy! I'm happy! I'm home!" At the moment I yell that I was home, I stop spinning and throw my hands in the air. Unfortunately, my wings, which I still have no idea how to control, took this as a cue to spread full length.

And let me tell you, they are huge.

Spreading almost the length of the lab, its no surprise that they manage to knock over several sets of beakers on the counters as well as other various equipment, but unfortunately, the other wing hit Knockout square in the chassis as he moved to stand up, knocking him right back on the ground. I squeaked in surprise when all this happened, but before I could fully retract them, one of my wings unfortunately caught a stray wire from some important looking equipment, and when it was pulled, sparks began flying.

Then, the entire lab went dark.

As we stood in the dark, the sizzling of the sparking wire could be heard, accompanied by the faint flash of light from the sparks. Soon, the emergency power came back on, and I stood there, entirely embarrassed and shell-shocked. I felt horrible, looking around at the chaos I had created in a few mere minutes. Actually, more like a minute…

Before I could start apologizing, though, a loud and boisterous laughter filled the room, and I looked to see Breakdown off behind me, clutching his gut. "I'm sorry, Little Bit, but… Primus, this is almost as bad as the first time I came through the med lab!" My wings were now drawn tightly around my front as I grasp the top of them and peak over towards the pair.

"Nothing will ever be as bad as that."Knockout had finally stood back up and was walking towards Breakdown while brushing off imaginary dirt. "At least I hadn't yet fixed my paint from earlier."

It's then that I notice all the scratches and even a dent or two along his chassis and arms. Looking to Breakdown, he appeared in similar if not worse shape. Looking at my long and thin yet very sharp servos, my optics widen as I realize what happened. "I did that… didn't I? I am so—"

"Don't apologize. It's fine. You were confused and disoriented," Knockout said simply. With a slight smirk back on his face, he adds, "My paint needed to be redone anyway."

I look to Breakdown and begin to speak, but he cuts me off as well. "Does it really look like I care about my looks, Little Bit? No harm, no foul." I close my mouth and then lower my head and nod shyly behind my wings as I still grasped them around me. "Honestly, given the fact that you were exhausted and confused, I'm pretty impressed on how well you handled yourself."

My head perked up as I began to grin. I drop my wings, which in turn settle behind me again, and say, "Really?"

Knockout chuckled. "Yes, you were quite the little scrapper." Looking at Breakdown, he crossed his arms and quirked a brow as he smirked at the large mech. "Maybe next time I say to use a lower grade of Energon, you will listen to me."

Breakdown sheepishly rubbed the back of his helm as I tilt mine to the side and inquisitively ask, "What do you mean a lower grade?"

Knockout turns to me and with an air of nonchalance, he states, "Energon is classified by percentage grades: the higher, the more energy the mech has. But the higher the grade, the harder to make, and the harder for the receiver to control their actions."

"Basically," Breakdown cuts in, "the drunker you are."

Knockout nods his head thoughtfully. "Normally, Vehicons use 10%, officers, 12%, except larger mech's need about 15%. Femmes your size should have about 8%."

"Well what grade did you give me?" I ask cautiously.

Breakdown looks as if he was trying to cover for himself. "Well, the Vehicons' were made of low quality stuff, and Screamer had guards monitoring the 12% when Airachnid was trying to revive you, and we don't even make 8% on the ship… So I grabbed a stash of emergency 15% from Megatron's quarters."

I felt my jaw drop as Knockout cuts in. "It's not dangerous. You just need to burn off some energy."

Breakdown then grins. Within moments, I'm yelping as he hoists me over his shoulder. "Time to show you the training room!" Before he can start walking though, I'm out of his grip, and he is on the floor with a few well-placed hits and twists.

"I can walk just fine, thank you!" I tell him with a happy tone to my voice. As I turn to march towards the med lab doors, I feel a pair of large servos grasp my legs, and I let out a loud 'oomph' as I fall to the floor with a thud. The mock fighting continues for a few moments before Knockout finally yells at us.

"Will you two knock it off!" We pause and turn to look at the irritated medic, all while contemplating whether or not we should actually stop our playful wrestling. That's when the door opened, and in stepped the silent Soundwave accompanied by my favorite Seeker, Starscream.

Note the sarcasm.

I have barely interacted with him, and I already know that I don't like him. At all. His pompous attitude and his acting like he was some almighty leader makes me want to tear out that shrilly little voice box of his.

"Should I even bother asking what in the Pit is going on?" he asks in an exasperated tone as his gaze travels around the destroyed room before settling on Breakdown and I, still locked together from our mock wrestling match.

"It's called wrestling, Screamer," I say in an equally exasperated tone. He seems to double take a bit at the nickname, but it just seemed so natural to me to use it. "I'm hyper, and we were just messing around."

Knockout cuts in. "She has excess energy in her systems. She needs to burn it off, and they were heading to the sparring room."

Breakdown grins from our tangled position on the floor. "Didn't quite make it. Little Bit here doesn't like to be carried in this form apparently." I snort and move to twist out of his grasp. My wings were sprawled in random directions, and it was not until I manage to stand up that they drew to my back. I think I was beginning to get a handle on them…

…Until Screamer grabbed my shoulder, and they flexed out, effectively knocking him flat on his aft.

I sigh and bury my face into my servos. "Why in the frag did I get stuck with wings…"

Starscream glared at me while Breakdown and Knockout tried to maintain their composure and not laugh. "Why you little brat! How dare you disrespect your commanding officer this way! I could—"

"You could what, my lord?" Knockout asked, the remnants of a smirk playing on his lips. "She is merely adjusting to her new form. We should expect incidents like this: she is worse off then the average Cybertronian with an upgrade. I mean, she has never had a Cybertronian form before, and now she is not only fully Cybertronian, but a winged Aurilian no less. Besides, shouldn't we be a bit more… encouraging to our little princess?"

Starscream sputtered a bit, searching for a proper reply, but I interrupted him. "Wait, what do you mean princess?" All three of them immediately tensed, sharing a look of concern. "Who exactly am I?"

Knockout sighed, and then gave me a sad look. "You might want to sit down for this story…"

I walk through the halls of the Nemesis, drowning in the eerie silence that surrounds me. My processor was spinning, the newfound knowledge of who exactly I was echoing like a hollow laughter. What a joke I am. I gave up this, this family, for the Autobots. And what do I get in return?

I'm left to die at the hands of those insects that call themselves MECH.

Primus, was I really that naïve? I keep mentally berating myself, not intently paying attention to where I was, or where I was heading. With a growl of frustration, I suddenly turn to the side and punch the nearby wall. The pain is minimal, but as I pull back my servos, I realize that I had not just punched the wall, but I had in fact punched some sort of keypad near a sliding door. The keypad was dented inwards, shooting a few minor sparks before falling off the wall completely.

Bending my knees in a crouched position, I scoop up the damaged panel, turning it from side to side before tossing it back on the floor. "Well, scrap," I mumble to myself. "Barely half an hour since you woke up from stasis, and you've already managed to knock over Knockout and Starscream, as well as destroy the med lab and… what ever this is." I say the last part as I bend farther down and poke the panel that I had thrown back on the floor.

Distracted by my self-chastisement, I'm startled when I hear a noise next to me, causing me to snap my head towards the doorway as I hear the quiet hiss of it slowly sliding open. I stand, and with measured and cautious steps, I enter through the door to find a small, blank room. Scrunching my brows together, I step all the way in and place my fists on my hips, looking for some use of this room. That's when the doors slide shut, and I nearly jump out of my skin.

Do I even have skin?

Spinning around, I see another panel next to the door, this one with numerous numbers in what I vaguely remember as being Cybertronian labeling various buttons. "Primus, I'm an idiot: I'm in a slagging elevator." Figuring that no harm could come by it, I push a random button, one that I seemed most familiar with, and let the elevator take me up a few floors. "At least it still works with the broken panel…"

Soon, the elevator comes to a stop, and the doors slide open yet again. Sticking my head out to peer down either side of the quiet hallway, I wonder where all the soldiers must be. I step into the deserted hall and just walk in the direction that feels most familiar, as when I had pushed the most familiar button in the elevator. I may not have my memories, but familiar paths and routines leave imprints in your mind, and right now, this imprint is leading me to a certain room.

As I stand outside of the massive doorway, I can't help but wonder why this room would be familiar to me. Looking at the keypad, I see that it is coded. I close my eyes in order to let my mind wander and just try and picture the code, anything that might help, while I let my hand hover over the keys. Just as I begin to think that this is a stupid idea, I begin to type a set of Cybertronian characters on a whim.

As the doors open, I think of how I had typed in Shadow Tronus.

The room was large, and though it had designs that signified it belonging to someone of high rank, it was very utilitarian and sparse in design with everything seeming to be in a specific spot for a specific reason. The far wall displayed a large purple insignia, one identical to the mark that the others on the ship wore. As I look from the desk against that wall to the large berth off to the side, I realize that this must be someone's living quarters.

It's around this time that I notice the sharp contrast of the utilitarian room to the far corner. Approaching the area, I see how it is consists of various furniture on a much smaller scale. The area is messy and disorganized, random articles of cloth strewn everywhere along with random objects. Though the colors were not overly bright, they were more noticeable then the rest of the room.

Tucked in the corner of this section of chaos, multiple… canvases is what I believe they were called, were stacked or leaned against the wall. The actual walls of this corner were absolutely covered in sheets of… paper. Sheets of paper, each with colorful, painted designs and sketches, covered these walls and even bled over into the utilitarian areas of the room. The styles varied from realistic to lose and abstract forms, all of which were strangely entrancing to observe. To add to the chaos, paints covered the floors and walls of this corner of the room, vaguely noticeable through all the clutter. More pieces of cloth laid about, covered in paint.

As I look more closely at the pictures, I realize that most were of Cybertronians. Most were of a large and intimidating looking silver mech, a mech who reminded me of the mech singing to me in my dreams. He made me feel… safe. Somehow, I knew this room to belong to him.

Several of Knockout, several of Breakdown, several of Soundwave, even a few of Starscream… none of Airachnid. I wasn't too sad to learn of that. As I examine the pictures further, I see some of generic looking Cybertronians, ones clad in simple purple and black paint jobs, but judging by the fact that there were multiple in these pictures, I assumed that they were the soldiers onboard this ship. I had yet to actually see them, so I was unsure.

Then I saw pictures of other Cybertronians. A large, green Cybertronian with a heavy girth but a happy smile. Another with a yellow and black paint job in a funny pose. He looked young. A red and white Cybertronian who looked decently older tinkering with some tools. A blue femme with a few small, pink accents in a fighter's stance and a confident smirk. A tall and regal looking red and blue mech, one with kind optics. Lastly, a deep, crimson red mech with chrome horns on his head and a wide-set grin.

The last one made my spark ache.

I could tell that these Cybertronians were not Decepticons. Something in the back of my mind just knew: these were the Autobots. I could feel the sneer grow on my face as I thought of how my childhood self could be fooled into thinking they cared about me. If they had truly cared, they wouldn't have left me at the hands of MECH to die. My gaze settles back on the tall and regal mech, and I realize that this must be the infamous Optimus Prime. My sneer deepens as a hatred forms towards the Autobot scum I had in my previous life called my father.

The mech whom I had followed, leading to injured stasis that my true father, Megatron, now lies in.

The realization of Optimus Prime's pictures caused my gaze to snap back towards the silver mech. My spark skipped a beat with the realization of his identity. That was him. My father, Megatron. Primus, what took me so long to realize it? This was his room, and this corner, it must have been my quarters. Given that as a human I was much smaller and I had lived with the Decepticons at an age where I could be considered a sparkling, it only made sense that I would room with my father.

I'm just shocked that he had left my room untouched for all these years.

A noise at the room's entrance breaks me from my trance. "Who are you?" a voice asks from the door. "What are you doing in here?"

I stare at this little corner of the room, the corner that my true father had left untouched all these years. "I'm here gaining clarity," I tell the voice. Rising slowly and turning around, I am met by the sight of a few soldiers, staring at me with nervous stances. The one in the front, though, stands tall and resolute in front of the others. "As for who I am, I am but a shell of what I once was. The old me, though, was a naïve child, and I intend to never be that way ever again."

The lead soldier's blaster lowered, and his tense stance loosened. "Your eyes… your optics… Princess? Is that you?"

I give him a sad smile. "I may be Shadow Tronus, but I am not your Princess. Not yet. I have not earned it yet. But I have every intention of doing so." I straightened my stance and moved towards them and the door. They all gained a formal posture and backed away, slightly inclining their heads to me. I stop and place my servos on the shoulders of the two closest to me. "Do not bow," I tell them softly yet firmly. "As I have said, I have not earned this praise yet."

"Yes, Pri— Shadow, I mean," the original speaker replies. I tilt my helm to him and note his wings twitching on his back in a slightly excited way.

Smiling, I ask, "What is your designation?"

"D38TS-7, sir," he replies smoothly and efficiently.

Chuckling, I correct myself. "No, I meant, what is your name?"

He hesitates for the first time since our encounter began. During this time, I note the long scrape on the side of his head. "Rowback. My name is Rowback."

I start to grin. Then, linking arms with the soldier, I ask, "Well, Rowback, my new friend, care to lead me to the bridge? I would like an audience with Starscream and Soundwave, and I figure they will be there." Turning my head to the other stunned soldiers, I add, "And the rest of you can make introductions along the way."

"What exactly do you plan on asking them?" Rowback asked. Out of the group of soldiers currently accompanying me to the bridge, he was the most at ease with speaking to me.

"I'm… going to make a request," I say hesitantly. "Not sure what they are going to make of it, but I think it's something necessary." I glance at Rowback and the other Seekers in his company. "You all are flyers. Do you serve together in the field? And who leads the flyers?"

"We are a few members of our squadron," the nervous Windglide responds.

Treetop cuts in. "As far as leading us, we have squad leaders such as Rowback," he says while inclining his head to the confident mech next to me, and honestly, this fact didn't surprise me. "But Starscream has always led and trained the Nemesis' armada."

I groaned as I tilted my head back and then let it slump forward. They all laughed lightly. "Yeah, Starscream can be a pain in the aft," Rowback says without a hint of caution.

The other Vehicons—they finally told me the formal name for the Decepticon soldiers— all tensed at Rowback's words, but they immediately relaxed when I began to lightly laugh as they did. "Yeah, it's just going to make things interesting for me…"

Rowback tilted his head in a gesture that suggested curiousity. "What do—" At this point, we had turned a corner and ended up in front of a large doorway. It immediately opened, and the Vehicons straightened up where they flanked me, Rowback immediately dropping my arm. With them following me, I strode onto the ship's bridge.

In front of me, I could see the backs of Starscream and Soundwave on the main bridge, as I expected, but I was a little surprised to see Knockout and Breakdown there as well. They all looked… tense. Whatever they were talking about, they obviously were not agreeing upon.

Before I could hear anymore of their conversation, Soundwave turned from his station and strode forward to meet me. I smirked and continued forward, my Vehicon companions waiting near the door. "Hey Soundwave— What are you doing?!"

The silent mech had caught me off guard when as soon as he reached me, he placed his long servos on either side of my waist and simply picked me up. His servos wrapped the width of my waist, making it easy for him to simply hold me out in front of him as he turned and walked back to his station. I futilely kicked my legs and my wings twitched as he carried me. Soon, I crossed my arms, huffing while I sent a glare at the faceless TIC. Once at his station, he sat me carefully on the edge of his workstation and returned to his typing.

My glare had yet to leave my face, but I turned it towards the smirking Knockout and snickering Breakdown. "Well," Knockout began with an amused tone. "It appears that Soundwave intends on keeping up his habit of carrying you away."

Breakdown smiled at me. "You have no idea how often he would just walk into the med lab, pick you up, and walk away without an explanation. We learned the hard way that it's best to just let him take you."

I roll my optics, and with my arms still crossed over my chassis, I turn my gaze towards the grumbling Starscream. "I need to make a request."

With his ever-present sarcastic tone, he asks, "And what exactly do you request, little princess?"

My glare hardens, and I lowly growl at the condescending mech. Quickly, I snap my optics shut and compose myself before saying, "I'm not your princess. I haven't earned that title, and based on my past actions, I don't even deserve this second chance."

Knockout sighs, "Shadow—"

I raise my palm to him to cut off his words. Opening my gaze back up, I lower myself from my seat on Soundwave's station and look Starscream dead in his optics. "I want to atone for my past mistakes and earn my way back into the Decepticons. My blood shouldn't be enough to earn that back."

Raising a brow, Starscream clasps his servos behind his back and leans forward. "And what, pray tell, do you mean?"

"I wish to rejoin the Decepticons as a soldier and earn my title as your princess." Trying to swallow my growl and mask my need to sneer at him, I instead kneel down on one knee and incline my helm to his peds. "I request your permission to serve you as a loyal soldier in your Seeker Armada."

The following silence was deafening.

I'm cutting it off there. Originally, I had been considering writing more, but that would just result in this being an overly long chapter and the next being extremely short by my standards.

So, let me know what you think of Shadow's request! Any thoughts and opinions? Also, let me know if you are confused by anything. I intend to explain things further in the story soon, but I don't want you to be confused over anything while reading.