Disclaimer: Anything you recognize as canon, I do not own.

XVII

Two mechs were conversing.

Their voices were a mere murmur, a pleasant, toneless melody whispering in the background.

I remained suspended in the dark, but it was peaceful, still.

It surrounded me. I could not tell sky from ground. However, I felt calm, sinking yet floating at the same time.

I felt…calm. And that was strange.

I did not know why that was strange, but something in my spark told me that something bad had happened.

Something bad…

My processors were of no help, too deep in the regular, slow cycles of recharge to come up with an explanation.

I decided that I could not bother. This was nice. I had not felt so comfortable with myself for as long as I could remember.

The two voices became more distinct. They began to separate, heralding the return of awareness. I did not want it to return, not when I could soak in this warmth. My brow ridges tilted in a tiny frown. I was not ready yet, not ready to part from this retreat from reality and its attached responsibilities.

My spark told me that something bad had happened, which meant its repercussions would be weight on my wings. I did not want that, at least not now. Let me rest without a worry for just a few breems longer.

However, my processors were already leaving recharge, my systems activating one by one. Everything felt slow. I must have been put under manual stasis-lock. This never meant well, especially not when paired with "something bad" from my spark.

As the dark and the warmth faded, my audials, both of them, registered more sounds. There was the even, steady pulse of beeps. There was the low hum of equipments. The voices above me formed words, and my processors caught them, grasping onto syllables that made sentences.

"—recovery soon. His injuries look worse than how they are. None of his internal components were severely damaged. His helm received impact, but his processors remain in tact. He should return to full functionality in two cycles, though he won't be able to reach full speed for another deca due to the work done to his wing and thruster."

"They look fine."

"I know." A tense pause. "They look fine, but, to put matters into simple terms, they need time to properly mend before they can withstand the capacity at which Prince Starscream is able to push his systems. Flier frames are not about taking hard hits. There is much delicacy in wing and thruster repair."

A noncommittal hum, and the conversation lulled.

"…I thought Advisor Thundercracker has referred you to a temporary room to recharge in while the battle sites are being cleared."

"He has."

"Is it…not to your liking? There are other vacant rooms in the Royal Tower for you to—"

A creak. Shifting joints.

"The room is fine. It has more luxury than I know what to do with."

A long silence.

"Well, I can't let you stay here all night cycle. The med bay is not for gawking bystanders." Pause. "…I don't even know why I let you come in." A sigh. "You are not a member of his family unit, nor are you of his trine. Only such relations are granted visitation rights by protocol."

"I won't be long."

Another silence.

"I'm not familiar with ground pounders and their appropriate medical care, but from what I see, you need some repairs yourself, if only based on that creaking alone."

"I've endured worse. I will visit my medical staff once I return to my base."

"…Which will be at least several joors from now." Shuffling, and small creaks. "I see what the problem is. I can give you some preliminary treatments, or at least numb the pain."

"That won't be necessary."

"Ground pounder, you are in my med bay with an injury. Do you honestly think I'll let you walk out of here with a crick in your joint? I know what you militants are like. Masochistic is what you are. You think I'm meddling with your business when I'm trying to help you."

"Don't push my patience, med-bot."

"Med-bot? I am the Head Medic of Vos! I have more vorns of experience under my wings than the entire Golden Age!" The voice rose in intensity despite its hushed timbre. I onlined my optics, wondering what was going on, and was met with the sight of Pristinus pursing his lips and sending chiding glares at a stoic, mildly irritated Megatron. It was a little funny, seeing a Stealth Jet hike up his wings to compensate for his lacking height against a looming ground pounder. However, I was more worried about the safety of my best medic in face of a volatile, dangerous ex-gladiator.

"Pristinus, desist." A static-filled croak left my lips. I winced, and reset my vocalizer with a small cough.

Both mechs instantly forgot about their brewing argument, and turned toward me.

"Your Highness, did our conversation wake you?" Pristinus bowed his helm, "I apologize for the commotion. I will escort Commander Megatron out of the med bay immediately."

"Is the battle over?" I asked.

"Affirmative, Sire." My medic answered.

"Did we—…" My fingers clenched a little.

"Yes, Prince Starscream," Pristinus smiled, "Your city still stands."

Oh thank Primus.

I let out a deep sigh, sagging into the berth. I shuttered my optics, and, for a long moment, all I did was stare at the ceiling, beyond the dark silhouette of the surgical lamps. A soft, warm hand wrapped around mine. I tilted my helm. Pristinus squeezed gently around my fingers, and I allowed myself to return his kind gesture with a smile of my own.

"Please do not worry, your Majesty. All matters of urgency are being taken care of." My medic explained. His voice was soothing to the audials. "The perimeter is once again secure. The science division and construction teams are in deliberation about rebuilding the labyrinth. Civilians whose homes have been demolished are placed in emergency dormitories. Energon rations have already been distributed. Scouts were sent to inspect the battle sites for survivors, all with instruction to retrieve any enemy weaponry left behind. Medical teams are helping the wounded, working alongside the patrols. Autobot casualty left behind are placed in the brig."

"The brig?" I was surprised the brigs were opened after being empty and neglected for so long.

"Affirmative. It did not seem appropriate to place them with our dead."

I nodded slowly, concerns placated for now. However, one matter still remained unaddressed.

"Pristinus, why don't you…tend to other patients?" I grimaced, optics darting aside. "There's something I need to discuss with Meg-…uhh…Commander Megatron."

I could see Pristinus studying my expression from my peripheral. He did not reply right away, and gave me a long, frowned look, one that would have made me squirm had I not been so numb in the rest of my frame. I only bit my lips, and tried my best to meet his gaze. After much failing on my part, he spared me with a turn of his helm, and pinned Megatron with a hard stare. Megatron did not move or exhibit any reaction. He met the stare head-on, but his thoughts were withdrawn, which made the medic's optics narrow.

"…Very well, your Highness." Pristinus eventually conceded, and gave me a low, respectable bow. "If there is anything you need, please comm. me immediately." His hand slipped away from mine, and he sent Megatron another lengthy look without a word. With quiet clicks of his peds, he walked out of the med bay, leaving me alone with a battle-worn ground pounder as the doors swooshed open and closed.

Megatron stood tall and imposing as ever. His optics followed Pristinus out before turning back to mine. They shined like simmering fire pits, even brighter than usual. It took me a lot longer than it should have to realize that they were so vivid because the lighting in the med bay had been dimmed to the lowest setting.

His plating was dusty. Smears of mud and residue covered his chassis and limbs, mixed with dried energon that no longer glowed. His paintjob was barely visible, having been corroded straight off by the acid rain. Scorch marks and scratches left much of his derma darkened and chipped, and there were many open wounds yet welded, the most prominent one being a horizontal gash right across his chassis. It missed his Decepticon badge, hence missing his spark chamber. However, its torn, singed edges told me that it hurt regardless.

My expression must have reflected the anxious clenching of my spark as I took in his condition. Megatron glanced down at the gash, and there was a creak from his neck cables, though he barely flinched.

"It's stopped bleeding." He stated as though that would make his injury less significant. "I'd received worse from being careless at the mines."

I could not tell if he was trying to reassure me.

"What in the pits did you do?" I scrunched my nose bridge.

"My job was to dig for raw energon crystals," He spoke quietly as though reciting a fond memory, though his expression was rather bland. "I was young and reckless once. I did not always heed warnings before entering the more unstable of mines. Cave-ins happened."

I frowned.

"No, I meant—" My lips hung apart as I caught myself. "…Nevermind." I looked away, and studied the machine monitoring my spark with much more interest and intent than I had. There was no reason for me to be concerned about how he'd gotten that injury. Perhaps I was curious, since it was, after all, hard to ignore.

Neither of us spoke for a while. My optics remained averted. My lips were pressed together, and I regulated my intakes, cycling deep breaths of air. The numbness in my limbs was staring to wear off, though my neural network was still partially disabled, undoubtedly to save me from feeling the blunt impact of pain upon waking. I felt as though I was floating. The sensation was strange. My wings were not quite registering the cool surface of the berth beneath them.

My wings…I smiled a little. I had both of them again.

I sent a command for a detailed diagnostic, and waited for the results. Going through them as they popped up in my processors, I was pleased to find that, aside from cosmetic damages, everything had been fixed. There were wielding marks to be sanded out and paint to be reapplied, but Pristinus, as always, did an exceptional job on my repairs. The results for my flight system came back, and I was just reading through them when a brush on my cheekplate jolted me from the task.

The touch startled me so much that I jumped on the berth. Intakes hitching in a gasp, my optics flew wide. My wings twitched, and I winced when the motion pulled on my newly fixed right wing joint.

Megatron had leaned down, one hand on the side of the berth while the other hovered a mere wingtip from the side of my face. I did not know how he had moved undetected, but by the time I noticed, he was already much closer, the tip of his nose bridge almost brushing against mine. He seemed as surprised as I was at his proximity, though he hid it very well, the only indication being the brief flash of his optics. From this close, I could see every layer of dried energon that had caked over his faceplate. Every surface scratch…thin, pale scars hidden under encrusted dust.

He parted his lips, but no word left them. He paused, frowned a little, and closed his mouth. His hand, close to my faceplate, lingered in the air. It hesitated, wavering, before he chose to place it aside, heavy against the surface of the berth.

"Calm down, Starscream." He finally said.

"What?" I hissed back. "What are you talking about?" I leaned away a little, and made an attempt at giving him an impatient sneer to mask my fidgeting.

He did not answer. Instead, he sent a glance toward the monitor keeping a track of my spark. I gave him a weak glare, slightly confused, and looked in its direction. My optics widened. The monitor was reporting all sorts of fluctuations as my spark skidded and swelled inside my spark chamber.

Embarrassment flushed through my faceplate. I snapped my helm back to him, and scowled even while my cheekplates burned.

"It's a harder task than you would think, Megatron, trying to calm down when a homicidal ex-gladiator is so inappropriately close." I bit out, vents in a huff.

Megatron did not comment. One of his brow ridges slowly lifted, and, with a curt shove, he backed away. I cursed my spark as it shrank in disappointment, and almost tore the stupid cable from my medical port when I remembered that if I were to do so, Pristinus would be barging into the med bay in less than a klik. There was much to discuss with Megatron, all pertaining to a matter I did not want any other audial to hear.

"There's something we need to talk about." I forced an expression of seriousness onto my faceplate, a mask I put on when addressing another as the Crown Prince of Vos.

"Speak." Megatron stated, and I fought the urge to bark at him. As if I needed his permission to do whatever the pit I wanted.

I narrowed my optics, but continued.

"Back on the battlefield," I tried to keep my voice firm, "You…saved me."

Megatron did not respond. His optics held a smoldering glow as he watched me.

I swallowed a bout of nervousness, and wiggled on the berth.

"That makes me…indebted to you…" My spark fluttered, and I had to purse my lips just to stop a frustrated groan. The burn in my cheekplates returned with even more enthusiasm. Energon rushed in my fuel lines, waves of heat encouraged by the thudding of my fuel pump.

I sincerely hoped that the lighting was too low for him to see how flustered I had become.

"Is that so?" His question barely carried any note of inquiry, and that irritated me.

"Yes, that is so!" I sent him a scowling glare, and crossed my arms over my chassis. My right wing joint throbbed. "By Vosian tradition, such debt must be repaid with an act of equal worth. This means you are allowed one request to what you desire." I explained in a hurry, "and I am obligated to fulfill that request to the best of my abilities, as long as it is within my power to do so."

I knew what was coming next.

Any klik now, that insufferable glint of triumph would light up his optics, and his lips would spread in an expression much more alike to a sneer than a smile. He would chuckle, and he would rub his victory right in my face. It would be a humiliating moment, but I could bear it, just long enough for it to pass.

I waited.

I waited, and—…

It never came.

To my surprise, the pleased smirk that I knew for sure would appear on his faceplate never came.

Silence grew stale.

Anxiousness gnawed at the insides of my spark chamber.

"…Well?!" I could no longer keep quiet. "Don't you have anything to say?"

For a long moment, Megatron only looked at me. There might have been a pensive edge in his gaze, but he was too closed off for me to gauge. "'An act of equal worth' is very vague, Starscream." He finally answered. "I will not lay claim until I know exactly what I can and cannot collect."

Oh. Of course.

I sneered, and let out a terse huff.

"There isn't much you can't." And such is my woeful fate. "A debt of this caliber—…" I grimaced. "To put it lightly, it is a very big deal."

"I suspected as much." He did not elaborate until I gave him a look of confusion, "I had been rigorously instructed to keep the manner of your rescue a secret, especially from an old, excitable jet."

I cringed.

Bladeflight.

"It was emphasized that he does not take well to tradition used against Vos's favour." Megatron's voice held no note of question, but I answered as though it had regardless.

"Yes, well," I grumbled, and looked to the side, "there isn't much he can do about that."

Whatever reaction I expected from Megatron, I did not get. He looked at me, and did not make even the faintest gesture suggesting delight at the leverage he now held over me and my people. However, that did not stop him from keeping the silence much longer than necessary. The air sombered. The tension grew charged. He knew exactly what he wanted. The harsh, determined expression on his faceplate left no room for contemplation.

He dipped his chin only so our optics would meet.

His lips parted:

"My request, Starscream, is for you to wear my mark."

Words, thick like chains, waiting to bind my wings.

"Join my cause," His voice rumbled deep. "Become my second-in-command and air commander."

The rough texture of the invisible shackles – it caressed like hard digits, clutching my spark tight within his grasp. My wings trembled, and it was difficult—I struggled, to keep his gaze. "…Is that all?" I whispered, and my fingers clenched around my arms. My breathing hitched. He was silent. And when he moved, I flinched, darting away even when I knew it was futile.

He reached with his hand, and parted my arms. I allowed him to place them by my sides, intakes in soft, hushed stutters. My spark quivered, and the beeping of the monitor quickened. His energy field buzzed against mine, a tingling vibration that swept over every sensor of my frame.

His fingertips brushed against the orange-tinted glass over my cockpit. I froze still. They traced the thin grooves, leaving trails of prickling heat, and I could only gasp, watching with widened optics and parted lips. He spread his fingers. They wrapped over the curve of my canopy. He placed down his palm, pressure warming the glass, and I shivered, biting back a small moan.

"Pledge to me your loyalty," The coarse growl of his voice left my spark a flutter. "Swear to me, that you will abide to my command." His fingers squeezed, and I arched from the berth, intakes a sharp hitch. "You will suffer my command alone, Starscream." He said, presence pinning me down. "Only mine." Heat soared, a well of desire erupting deep in my core.

His hand, tight around my canopy, slowly slid down. The pace was torturous, stirring awake my sensors before his touch could even reach them. Optics offlining, I turned my helm, and clenched my jaws. His thumb rubbed against the glass, and his fingers dug into the seams, pressing against sensitive neural nodes embedded within them. I clutched around the sides of the berth, thighs squeezing together. A soft keen passed my lips, thin and high-pitched over the low whirr of my cooling fans.

I did not know whether he was aware of the intimate nature of his actions or not. Fliers only actively touched each other's canopies when initiating a bonding during interface. Nevertheless, his touch was rousing havoc on my spark and my frame. I could have told him to stop, but I was too frazzled, too reluctant, simply because it felt so good.

His fingertips traced lazy patterns over the glass panels, and my vents huffed out gusts of hot air. He stroked my canopy, roaming digits wonderfully firm and rough, and I pressed against him, wanting and asking for more. The monitors plugged into my medical ports reported all kinds of heightened, frenetic results as arousal slammed into my system. My valve made a needy squeeze, and I whined, hands shooting up and grappling around his wrist.

"Wh-What are you—…What are you doing…?!" My voice came out as a squeak, and I squirmed on the berth.

I had every intention of stopping him. Probably. However, every single one of them was tossed out the window the klik I tried to do so. My spark flared and almost combusted from wanton yearning the split moment his hand left my canopy. Overwhelmed by the desperate thirst for his touch, my hands moved on their own accord, and wrapped around his wrist, guiding it downward. My processors sprouted numerous reasons to why this was an extremely stupid and bad idea, but that did not matter. The haze of sheer need was too strong. I could not stop myself.

I did not have the courage to online my optics and look at Megatron as I dragged his hand down my frame. It stroked along my cockpit, over my abdomen, and finally, rested right on top of my crotch-plate. My cheeks were scorching hot as I gritted my dentae, and parted my shaky thighs. I turned his hand, jolting as he brushed the cables in my thigh joints. With much more bravery and resolve than I truly felt, I grasped his fingers, and pressed them down right against my valve cover.

Heat. Shooting through my core. I gasped, and let out a strangled moan, frame shuddering in pleasure. Any and all doubts forgotten, I wiggled, shifting my hips as I rubbed his fingers against my cover plating. A charge was quickly building, startling in its potency, and I should have been surprised, but I was too overcome by the sweet, searing bliss to care. With a single command, my valve panel snapped open. I grabbed onto his fingers, and plunged them deep into my wet, hot port.

"Ahhh! Yes!" I cried out, back arching off the berth upon first penetration. His fingers felt so wonderful, so thick and warm. Guiding them, I set a slow, but steady pace, lips apart in soft moans, helm tossed back. Lubricant made the motion delightfully slick, and the walls of my valve trembled, completely yielding to his touch.

"Starscream," His voice was thick with static, "Your sensory range…has been adjusted to dull your perception to pain."

Why the frag would I care? I thrust his fingers faster into my valve, vents panting and thighs shaking.

"This has certain side effects that you—"

Why in the pits was he talking?! I cut through his words with a needy keen, spreading my legs further apart to drive his fingers even deeper into my interface port. The tips of his fingers rubbed against the upper nodes lining my valve, and I let out a loud cry, almost bucking off the berth.

"Yes—! That's it—R-Right there! Oh it's so good—! So good!" I heard myself babble, but making the connection that it was me was hard. "Don't stop! Oh for the love of Primus please just don't stop!"

"Starscream—" He suddenly tugged on his fingers, and I squealed in protest. Clamping my thighs around his arm, I yanked his hand toward me, fingers digging into the groove at his wrist.

"F-Frag it, Megatron—Don't you dare stop! Don't you fragging dare!" I onlined my optics in a flash, and shouted at him in a heated battle to pull him closer. "Finish what you started, you scrapheap of a rust bucket!" I yelled, and fought with all my strength to sink his fingers deeper into my valve.

He growled and glanced to the side, bracing himself with his other hand on the edge of the berth. With an especially hard tug, he tried to dislodge my legs from his arm, and I screeched, scrambling when it almost threw me off.

"Starscream!" Exasperation flared in his optics as he shouted down at me. He glanced to the side again, but I was too frustrated to give a damn about what he kept looking at.

"I don't care if Primus himself is about to smite you, Megatron!" Not giving up, I yanked at his arm with greater vigor. "Stop stalling and frag me, damn it!"

A loud crash, and my words hiccupped to a stop. I jumped, freezing to stillness. I stared at Megatron, and, for a long moment, was unable to piece together just what that crash was. Megatron stared back, but after a few kliks, he looked away, once again turning to the side. Curiosity an insistent nag, I cursed, and finally tossed a careless glance in that direction.

My fuel pump stopped.

My spark almost fell right out of my spark chamber.

I doubled back, and felt my optics stretch into a wide, stunned gape.

Nightfire was on a berth on the other side of the med bay. His paintjob made him so hard to see in the darkened room that he was barely more than a pair of floating optics, its shine the only light source brightening up his faceplate. He was sitting up on the berth, watching us with utter horror, lips agape in a silent cry of shock. One of the monitors connected to his arm was on the ground, sparking every once in a while. That must have been the crash when the Space Shuttle grabbed at it to prop himself upright.

Silence stretched over us like a charged cannon kliks from a blast. I gawked at my advisor in equal amount of dismay, processors so blanked and frozen that I completely forgot about Megatron's fingers still inside my valve. Nightfire's optics darted downward. He made a choked back, strangled cough. I snapped out of my stupor with a sharp gasp, and I screamed.

I shoved Megatron away and kicked at him with my peds, valve cover snapping closed.

At least, it tried to.

As I frantically sent down commands for it to shut, it slid, and jammed against one of Megatron's fingers. Shrieking in hysteric embarrassment, I repeated the commands, but it only squeezed against the digit, lodging it in place.

"Get-it-out-get-it-out-get-it-out-GET-IT-OUT—!" I kicked at Megatron's helm and screeched.

"Calm down, Starscream!" Megatron grabbed at my legs, catching one of my thighs and inciting another scream from my vocalizer.

"What the frag are you doing?!" Hollering at the ground pounder, I bucked and jerked and thrashed. "Let go off me!" I clawed at the faceplate of the slagger whose slagging finger was still inside my valve. "Let go!"

Megatron bit out a curse, and gave his finger a terse pull. Unfortunately, it was stuck, and too much force could tear the panel straight off from between my legs.

"Settle down, Starscream!" He clenched his fingers around my thigh to get my attention, but I did not even feel it beyond a faint pressure. "You have to open your cover!"

"Are you fragging glitched?!" I continued to struggle, fighting and aiming my peds at anywhere vulnerable I could reach. "Get your finger out of my valve, you sick fragger!" One of my thrusters clanged against his faceplate, and he exploded in fury.

"Starscream!" He roared down at me and wrenched aside my leg. With a ruthless swing, his arm shot forward, and clamped a hand around my neck cables. He shoved me down, slamming my helm against the berth. The impact jolted my processors, and I groaned, optics offlining.

It was too hard to not be felt even with my pain receptors dampened.

I was sure a dent had formed. Pristinus was not going to be a happy medic when he found out what had happened.

Optics rebooting, I looked up, and nearly startled right off the berth had there not been a hand pinning me down. Megatron's faceplate hovered a mere wingtip over mine, features twisted into an expression of utmost rage. His optics were aflame with anger, flashes of light brighter than all of Unicron's smelting pits combined.

"Starscream…" He snarled, grinding my designation through a vicious, feral sneer. "Open your valve cover, now!"

I immediately shrunk back into the berth, and whimpered fearfully while I retracted my valve panel with hasty commands. Megatron hissed as his finger was released. He slowly pulled it out, and leaned back to examine the digit. I almost deactivated from embarrassment when I saw it drenched in my lubricant.

Megatron only made a low grunt, lips still curled in a scowl. He leaned away, hand unraveling around my neck cables, and took a few steps back, increasing our distance. Suddenly out of immediate danger zone, I regained my nerve, and heaved myself upright as my valve cover clicked closed. I did not dare look in Nightfire's direction, so I swung up an arm, and pointed straight at Megatron's faceplate with the nastiest sneer I could muster.

"This is all your fault!" I shouted, glare accusative and wings jerking on my back.

Megatron's optics narrowed.

"…Starscream…"

Not intimidated in the least, my voice only rose in volume.

"Why didn't you tell me Nightfire was here all this time, you fragger?! And don't you dare lie about not seeing him! There's no slagging way you could have missed him!"

"Stop accusing me of your own fault! Had I seen him, I would have never let you go so far!"

"Lair!" I screamed at him. "You lying glitch! You knew all along! You just wanted to humiliate me!"

"Don't be ridiculous," He spat out, hands clenching into tight fists. "You are behaving like a sparkling!"

"A sparkling?! How dare you?!" I was so livid that my wings were stretched straight up on my back. "I am Crown Prince to an entire city-state, you insolent aft! I can order execution on your ugly faceplate! Why the frag did you come here in the first place?! You are not even remotely worthy to be in my tower!"

"Not worthy? I saved your life!" Megatron's optics were almost slits now, so bright that they pierced through the dark like flaming spears, but nothing could stop me from lashing out at him in righteous fury.

"So what, Megatron?! You want a fragging trophy?! Any one of my Seekers could have flown over top and saved me!" My whole frame was trembling. The readings from the monitors became erratic. "What you did was not half as valiant as you think it is! There are hundreds of fliers who would die for my safety, and you think what you did was special? Ha! Don't make me laugh!" I hissed out, baring my dentae and glaring.

"You think I'm going to kneel over and kiss your peds just because you happened to get to me first, you glitch-ridden scrapheap?! There is order in this universe and I was sparked above yours, Megatron! You should thank Primus that you had the chance to redeem yourself to land you permission inside my city! For an insignificant miner rotting underground, this is practically the miracle of your miserable life!" My lips curled into a malicious sneer.

"And how do I know you didn't just blatantly pretend to not know that the Autobots were going to attack my city? How do I know you didn't plan this from the very beginning just so you can trick me into joining your band of idiots?! You think I'd forgotten that you have inside intelligence within the Autobot ranks, Megatron? You forget who you are dealing with! I am the great Starscream, Crown Prince of Vos!" I raised my wings higher. "You cannot fool me with your petty, pathetic plans! I owe you nothing, you hear?! I owe you absolutely—"

A fist crashed toward my faceplate, and my tirade was cut off by a high-pitched yelp. I ducked, and the punch slammed into the medical berth, freezing my core with fear when the enforced metal crunched under the force of the attack. With a jolt, I snapped out of my angered haze. Only then did I noticed how utterly fragged off Megatron was, heat rolling off from his frame in visible waves.

Oh Primus…He looked ready to kill!

His entire massive frame was shaking, joints straining under the tension of his rage. Overworking cooling fans sent out harsh streams of blazing hot air, searing the sensors in my quivering wings. He wore the most terrifying expression on his faceplate, every bit of ferocious wrath put on display. However, what made it most spark-chilling was the fact that he was in complete control of the dark, deadly monstrosity that his spark harboured – raw power ruled by cold, calculating processors.

"…I saved your life, Starscream, and this is the thanks I get?" His voice was deceptively low, syllables bit through clenched dentae. "You seem to misunderstand something very important, flier." He fumed, still and dangerous. "I did not have to come and honour this joke of an alliance." He pinned me down, fiery optics stabbing me straight through the spark chamber.

"I do not hesitate to say that I have never been interested in being a mere ally to you." He hissed out. "The reason I'd consented to your request is, frankly, I desire you, and I want you as mine. However, do not make the mistake of assuming that for such reason alone I am willing to tolerate this behaviour from you." He gritted, and I felt my wings give a violent spasm. "I am not in the least impressed with your lack of appreciation for what I've done, for you."

Tension mounted. His optics narrowed further.

"Nothing comes freely, Starscream. I expect full repayment in form of nothing less than complete, unquestioning submission to my command from you.

"You will be mine to rule as long as I see fit, and I would hope, for your sake, that you will always remain useful to me and my cause." He made an especially cruel expression then, and, with a hitched gasp, I scrambled backward, shuffling as far as I could away from his reach.

"The instance you become worthless to me, Crown Prince," He growled, the sound low and rasped, "you will be disposed of."

Silence reigned over us.

I did not dare move or respond in case anything I did somehow provoked him to physically hurt me, as ridiculous as that notion was since we were in my tower in the middle of my city. However, the intensity behind his glaring look was too strong to challenge in any way, and I was left too afraid to make a single sound. I remained speechless, huddled at the end of the berth. The only stray thought that fleeted over my processors was of surprise that Nightfire had not spoken at all throughout this entire encounter.

"…I don't hear an affirmation from you, Starscream." Came a snarled warning, and I immediately cowered, drawing my knees up in protection.

"Y-Yes, Lord Megatron…!" I blurted out, and, for several kliks, he did not speak.

"Lord?" He might have sounded confused, but mighty Megatron did not get confused.

"A—Affirmative," I sent him a small glance. "After all…you are now higher in rank than a prince." I ducked my helm. "So you are nothing short of a lord…"

He made a low hum, but did not give further comments.

Pristinus strode into the med bay not a klik after, having hurried over when one of Nightfire's secondary monitors stopped feeding results to the medical mainframe. He made a fuss about the crashed monitor, and chided me for moving about when I should be lying still in recharge. He gave Megatron a few displeased looks, but even he did not dare ask the still fuming ground pounder just what in the pits had happened. Megatron did not remain in the med bay for long. He turned to leave soon after Pristinus's arrival. Pausing at the door, he spoke to me, but he did not even face me like he should.

"I will be returning to Kaon as soon as all Decepticons have been accounted for." He announced, helm not even tilted toward my direction. "I expect one report per cycle from you, Starscream, regarding the status of your city."

When Pristinus paused in his rechecking of the monitors to stare at me in astonishment, I wanted to hide, or better yet, shoot the rust bucket in the aft. For Primus's sakes, he was shaming me right in front of my subordinates! I expected him to start treating me according to my rank in his stupid Decepticon hierarchy, yes, but he was deliberately disrespecting me. He was giving me his first address as my commander, and he was not even looking at me in the faceplate like my position deserved.

What outrage! I clenched my fists, pressing my lips together to stop myself from dishing out scathing replies. I was his second-in-command!

"I also expect to be present in the announcement of your allegiance to my faction," He continued. "Understood?"

"…Yes." I grumbled.

"Yes what, Starscream?" A frightening edge laced his voice, and I involuntarily shivered, both in fear and, to my great disgust, a surge of corporal excitement.

"Yes, my most gracious and benevolent lord Megatron," I crooned in dripping sarcasm, and made a face to his back.

Megatron did not acknowledge my insincere response. He gave the key pad sharp tap, and walked out the door when it slid open. When his hulking frame finally disappeared, I heaved a deep sigh through my vents, and felt my wings sag in relief. Pristinus, to his credit, had stopped looking surprised. He did not ask any questions. Adopting his usual approach to politics of "as long as I have a med bay I don't give a frag what happens", he went on to check the rest of the monitors.

Suddenly feeling exhausted, I shuffled down the berth, and settled carefully on my back. Pristinus paused in his assessment of the monitors to assist me, ensuring that my wings were comfortably placed in standard position. Ignoring the lingering hints of heat and desire, I was more than ready to entire a deep recharge cycle. However, Nightfire spoke up for the first time in the whole night cycle, unwilling to let the event pass without having a few words.

"…Prince Starscream—" He began, and I groaned.

"Can't it wait, Nightfire?" I mumbled, and draped my arms over my optics. When the Space Shuttle did not respond, I knew immediately that he was not about to give up without a fight.

With another tired sigh, I asked in great reluctance, "What is it?"

"I know you wish to recharge, your Highness, so I will be brief," His voice carried a note of tension, a hard tinge that I did not hear often from him. "I just would like to remind you that you are our prince, Sire." He paused. "You are our prince," He repeated, "Regardless of what you must do, for them."

I bit down my jaw joints, and did not reply right away.

I could feel his optics on me even as I hid mine behind my arms.

What Nightfire was really saying was a warning. He was not going to question my whorish tendencies as long as I became more careful in the future. However, he had made his stand on the situation very clear: play if you will, but it must never get in the way of your duties to Vos, which included eventually finding a bondmate, a flier bondmate.

After all, I had to ensure and protect the purity of my royal lineage.

My spark quivered and shriveled inside my spark chamber, but I nodded. I knew I had to keep everything hidden and under control. Megatron made clear of his not entirely political and military intentions toward me. I could easily manipulate it, and…I would. I was not above exploiting it to my advantage if it had the potential of bringing benefits to my city and its people. However, I must be extremely careful. After all, I could not afford to get accidentally attached.

Nightfire was hardly the only flier in Vos holding such tradition religiously. Even Skyfire, always one to encourage better relations between Vos and the rest of Cybertron, had furrowed his brow ridges in bewilderment, unable to understand attraction between a ground pounder and a flier. It had actually happened a few times before I commanded complete isolation of Vos, though I was too young to remember such relationships. However, according to Skyfire, nothing good ever came out of it.

Skyfire never lied to me, so what he said must be true.

There was shuffling from Nightfire's side of the med bay, and I could only assume he had settled down on his own berth. Even though he no longer watched me, I still did not dare lower my arms from shielding my optics from view. My lips were trembling, so I bit down on them hard. My wings were starting to shake, and Pristinus placed a soft hand on them, gently rubbing until they stopped. My spark was sore. It throbbed and pinched. However, there was no rubbing that could make it better.

I regulated my intakes as they took air into my system. I concentrated hard on every component involved in the action, even as my processors slowed, entering a recharge cycle.

After all, I had to concentrate on something, anything, to ignore the cold feeling of lubricant behind my valve cover, and the prickling sensation of coolant threatening to rise from my optics.

Notes: Life is never easy for monarchy. Poor Starscream, none of his people want to see him with Megatron, except for maybe Skywarp. XD But hey, at least that ex-gladiator got promoted to "Lord".

Massive thanks once again to lovely, kind reviewers Krazed Jetformer, Suki-Angel91494, The Happy Shark, Delition, 333, lildevchick, IAmSilversky, Cjade, Ashcola17, Koluno1986, keeperofcoldtoes, Cloud Kitsune17, Boop, The-writing-Mew, Ultimate Nerdbot, Random523, Balrog Roike, heretherebemonsters, ladyredvelvet, Devlinn Reiko, Jacky Writer, rj545, Starcee138, loverofmythology, Skylark Starflower, Dampsefi, AAP, aki. vn, doubleports, bunyipbabe,and starscreamfancypants. You guys really know how to make the day special. :/)

I think I should address how Megatron managed to get to Vos in the last chapter, since it won't really be talked about in the future. Due to the POV of this story, not everything will be explained in detail as to not congest the pace of the plot. This means that sometimes, you will just have to…make an educated guess based on what's happened and what's been implied. I'll try my best to explain these things, but I don't want to bore you with what you'll just find obvious when you read it in the end.

How I personally imagine Megatron to have gotten there (and, really, the only way for him to get to Vos that fast) is through Skywarp. By Vosian military protocol, no grounded soldier is rescued. I think this is actually to protect the fliers still capable of battle. It wouldn't do well to die while trying to save a friend, which could potentially diminish the numbers of troops significantly if everyone did it. However, Starscream isn't a soldier, but he was surrounded by Autobots, which made rescue tricky. Skywarp saw and assessed the situation, and made the most logical choice of action: get Megatron, who could slag the Autobots and get Starscream out of there.

Now that's out of the way, what did you think of this chapter? ;) I hope you enjoyed reading the treat, though it ended before anything can really happen, haha! As always, I really do want to know your thoughts on this installment. Please drop me a few words. They'll be greatly appreciated!

Review now? Please?

Ps: I got a tumblr! acteon-carolsfeld . tumblr (dot c o m). Add me if you would like to talk or whatever else you'd like to do. :)