Hiss…

A rush of hot air hits two sets of freshly exposed plating, freed from the cold confines of stasis.

"Whoever orchestrated all of this is going to pay dearly," Steeljaw growls as he stumbles out of his pod, rubbing the creases of stress and exhaustion away.

"Same 'ere…" Ramulus pauses for a moment. "But, ah, Steel, don't this seem familiar to you?"

Once his eyesight returns to normal, Steeljaw raises his helm and scans the area. They are inside a large tent, staked in between cracks of lichen-covered rock. A war room-style table map is the only other item aside from their stasis pods currently occupying space.

"Unfortunately, yes," Steeljaw says, a wave of deja-vu hitting him square in the spark chamber.

The tent flaps behind the pair fly open, allowing warm light to illuminate their newfound predicament.

"Well well well, so the rumors are true…"

Steeljaw feels his claws briefly tighten around his faceplate, nearly making him tear out his own optic. Beside him, he can sense his unflappable mate's turmoil.

"Convoy? What is the meaning of this?" Ramulus demanded.

"I knew there was more to the casualty report that you weren't letting on, but believing that you were in shock after having lost your commanding officer, I decided to let it slide. Thinking back on it now, I should have known better. One of the most bloodthirsty mechs I have ever met, and it only took losing a few of your team-mates to shake you? I don't think so," Convoy confessed.

"That high opinion of me, huh? Good to know I left an impression," Ramulus commented, taking a step closer to Steeljaw.

"As arrogant as ever…" Convoy draws closer and reaches out to place a servo on Steeljaw's shoulder. "Aren't you going to turn around and say hello, Steeljaw?"

Steeljaw tensed under the touch, but he knew that if he didn't do something in the next few seconds, Ramulus would lash out and make things even worse than they already are. He circulates his vents and slowly turns around, discreetly tapping his mate's legs with his tail tip, signaling him to not act. He receives a light kick in return, letting Steeljaw know that Ramulus won't be promising anything.

"Hello, Convoy," Steeljaw greeted the Prime-sized white, blue, and orange mech. "Last time we saw each other, you were sending thousands of us to our deaths in a botched siege."

"Now, I wouldn't call it botched. We did succeed in the end. You knew that, didn't you? Since you were alive and all," Convoy tested, adding pressure to his grip.

Steeljaw flinched. He sensed Ramulus' frustration gaining new ground, and quickly spared his mate a warning glance.

– Ramulus, don't interfere. I'll handle this. –

– I am not going to stand here and let him do whatever he wants! –

"Having a silent conversation, are we?" Convoy interrupted, looking between the two.

"So what if we are?" Ramulus snapped, servos clenching and forming fists.

"It is incredibly rude, that's what."

"You know what else is rude? Not providing us the common courtesy of explaining why you put a hit out on us! And how the frag did you know Steel was still alive?"

Convoy turned to face Ramulus. His yellow optics flickered constantly as they scanned and analyzed the angry Predacon standing before him.

"I already told you how and why, and from where I'm standing…" Convoy unsheathed his claws and embedded them in Steeljaw's plating. "I don't need to explain myself further."

Steeljaw knows better than to struggle. He had been disciplined enough times by Convoy for a message or lesson to stick. The physical scars have long since healed, but the memories never left him, nor will they ever leave Ramulus, who always bore witness to the aftermath.

When it comes to Convoy, both Steeljaw and Ramulus are perfectly aware of their places, and they loathe it.

"Now I have a very important question for you two, not that I expect an answer, but I'm inclined to ask," Convoy spoke, toying with his former subordinates.

Ramulus' pinkish/red optics flare dangerously. He opens his mouth to snap back a reply, but hesitates. Convoy still maintains a tight grip on Steeljaw's shoulder, and while it appears he hasn't done more than dent the surface metal, his mate's golden optics carry a spark of pain.

"What do you want to know?" Ramulus growled.

"Are you two conjunx-endura?" Convoy asked. When he didn't receive a response, he said…

"Thought so. You know, that explains a lot, right down to the adorable little nicknames you have for each other. Granted, it's just your own names shortened, but then again, not much room for anything else in the middle of a War. Which also reminds me…"

Convoy straightens to his full height and looks between Steeljaw, trapped by his claws, and Ramulus, frozen in place nearby.

"Fraternizing among the ranks?"

"Our relationship never affected our work!" Steeljaw attempted to defend himself and his mate.

"Not in a bad way," Ramulus muttered.

"Ram, not helping!"

"I'm just sayin'! If anything, it made us better!"

"How sweet…" Convoy pulled Steeljaw closer and tilted his helm up with his free servo. "And how fortunate that you avoid punishment for such a discretion, all because the War is over."

"Yeah, yeah, you've made your point!" Ramulus snarled, taking a fighting stance. "Now, get your ragged old paws off my mate!"

"Ramulus, get a hold of yourself!" Steeljaw ordered. "We're not going to make it home if you keep picking fights!"

"I know…"

"What makes you think you'll be going home?" Convoy interrupted.

Steeljaw and Ramulus share a confused look. They expected a rhetorical question from Convoy, but the way he said it…

They couldn't put their digits on it, but his tone sounded off.

At times, back when Steeljaw and Ramulus were almost always in direct contact with Convoy, he was strict, commanding, prone to stress-induced outbursts, but never has he ever sounded ominous.

"Although, it's funny how you two think you're going to get out of this with your sparks intact," Convoy continued, a quiet chuckle following his statement. "That's what the rest of them said."

Ramulus lost his bravado and dropped his walls. His fists fell limp at his sides and optics dilated.

"What do you mean by that?" Steeljaw asked, a torrent of horror swirling in his tanks.

Convoy formed an uncharacteristically devilish grin and pushed Steeljaw outside.

"Let me show you."