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With the stress of spark drop over with, Dreadwing found himself wanting to be closer and closer to Optimus. Logically he knew that Optimus had duties and responsibilities as the leader of the Autobots and as a Prime, but that still didn’t stop him from preventing his soon to be conjunx from leaving the berth. His clawed servos were loosely wrapped around the edges of his windshield, only tightening when he felt his partner start to roll away. Optimus groaned but held Dreadwing closer, his engine rumbling as he slowly stirred awake. Battle worn servos rubbed soothing and nonsensical patterns into his seeker's side. Dreadwing’s engine rumbled in contentment, his plating flaring and relaxing to grant better airflow and breeze warmed air over Optimus’ servo. “Good morning, my carrier.”
“Mmmm. Not awake yet.” Dreadwing mumbled in recharge and tightened his grip on the edge of the windshield. A hearty rumble of a laugh fanned across Dreadwing’s helm as Optimus pressed a soft kiss to the curved flares that framed his faceplate. A soft field of love and adoration blanketed his partner, making sure to keep the edges of his field soft enough for the sparklings still developing within Dreadwing's chamber. The seeker pulled his Prime closer to him, throwing a large leg across his hip and locking him down onto the berth. Taking the quickest of glances at his chrono told him that he needed to meet Ratchet in the main area of the base in the next groon to help build the glider to rescue Smokescreen, but he could be excused for a few more groons if it meant that his mate would be satisfied in the morning.
He tried to roll to get into position, but the way that Dreadwing held him down prevented any movement. He rumbled another chuckle and switched tactics. He slid away the cover of his array and pressurized his spike. The sound registered to the sleepy seeker and he slid his own array open, the position of their hips was just right for a quick morning frag.
“Quick” was subjective. They were at it for much longer than Optimus was planning. Out of respect for the Autobots that were up and moving about the base, they kept their vocalizers off, but the sound of two large metal frames interfacing was impossible to ignore if you walked past their shared room.
Each rushed thrust of his hips was accented with the squelch of soaked mesh as Optimus brought Dreadwing to his peak over and over, the seeker being near insatiable even after his pedes bounced lazily in time with each smack of their arrays. Eventually, Optimus’s servos rested on the swell of Dreadwing’s abdomen. An incredibly dirty line of thoughts rushed through his processor as he imagined taking Dreadwing everywhere in the base, loud enough to shake the walls of the base and to leave paint transfers across all the walls like a perverse mural. Every strut in his frame ached from overexertion but the sparks that arced from the nodes within his valve danced across his array from their conductive fluids brought him closer and closer to overload.
In a swift motion, he twisted Dreadwing to lay on his side, lifting a solid leg over his shoulder and bore down deeper into his valve, the very tip of his spike pressed against his conjunx’s ceiling node with each roll of his hips. A silent groan came out as static and a roaring engine, his EMF bathing the whole room in pure love and possession, so much so that if you walked too close to the Prime's habsuite door, you could brush against the field and hear their tryst. Optimus kissed the short wing on the leg that was by his helm, Dreadwing sent over a comm of nonsensical characters and glyphs. His optics brightened, he reached out to hold one of Optimus’ servos as he sent one clear message
::Together::
The Matrix of Leadership oscillated with such intensity that its cyan glow seeped between the seams of his chest plating. Unable to contain the vibrant energy it was putting out, his chest plates shifted and opened as he bared his spark to Dreadwing once again. The seeker reached out with the servo closest to his mate’s chassis and grazed his digits against the golden case that enclosed his spark. In the flicker of time it took for the touch the bounce back to Dreadwing, Optimus was thrown into an aggressive reboot with his transfluid reserves to empty completely into the hungry forge of his seeker and collapsing on top of him. Simultaneously, the gush of transfluid pushed Dreadwing to overflow from the heat and sensation of his valve stuffed with genetic fluid.
Unable to really turn his hips, he did his best to hold Optimus close to him as he waited patiently for him to reboot. Purring and clicking sweet and forgotten Vosnian nothings into recalibrating audials, he only switched to common glyphs as Optimus’s optics glowed a dull blue.
“My conjunx…”
“Terraquake…. Get over here Terraquake!! Terraquake!!! Don’t touch that, Terraquake… “
“Hmm, the more you say the name, the less it starts to sound right.”
“Solarquake? Lunarquake? Skyflare? Skyflare is kinda nice.” Dreadwing groaned as he reclined on the bed, joints achy from the intense frag from the morning. Breakdown had helped him get more comfortable in the berth by fluffing the thin pillow behind the seeker’s lower back strut. For the better part of the month while Optimus and his team had been trying to assemble some sort of flying contraption to get Smokescreen back, Knock Out and Breakdown had been staying with the seeker to monitor his vitals and his bitlets. And they had been helping him with names.
“Skyflare sounds very nice, much better than Terraquake or Solarquake. I’m not one for aerial bots, but their naming conventions can be nice. Hopefully one of your bitties comes out more red than blue, no offense, Dreadwing. Optimus’ red would look nice on a sleek jet frame.” Knock Out leaned back on his elbow as he got more comfortable at the foot of the large berth with Dreadwing, his optics roaming over the splotches of sky blue that littered his frame, his nanites working to repair the surface-level scuffs. “You seekers choose sky or flying related names, right? If you have a little femme, I think Cloudspire is an adorable name. Skyflare and Cloudspire are the perfect set of names for twin femmes.”
“Way too dainty for mechs, what if they’re grounders? Terraride, Roller, Firestalker, Stormwheel…Freeride?” Dreadwing shook his helm.
“Me and Optimus were quite set on names pertaining to the time of day. And the firstborn was to be named after Skyquake.” An absent servo rubbed over his cockpit. He focused on the smaller of the two sparklings in his gestational chamber. “Such a faint signal.” He murmured to himself. Knock Out hummed, there was no real way to cheer the seeker up from the ordeal of the sparkdrop. The smaller of the sparklings would just need more care, but only time would tell if he made it through with two sparklings at the end of emergence. “I know this one will grow up to be strong.” he mused to himself, his field taking on a soft hopeful feel that he ensured his sparklings could feel. It was still much too early to feel their fields expand to mingle with his. Knock Out sighed wistfully, wishing that he was the one with the bulky chassis and body aches from carrying. He reigned in his field, knowing how particular carriers could be about other mechs teeking with their newsparks. When he looked to his conjunx sitting on a crate and talking to Dreadwing, his spark ached, it really should be him and not Dreadwing even though he was happy for him. He did his best to not attempt to function vicariously through the seeker as he thought about the designs he would pick for the soft blankets he would swaddle his own sparklings in and how he would decorate a room for twin femmes. He took a moment to really look around the hab.
The room the three of them were in is was quite drab, by Knock Out’s standards. A plain berthslab, a crate that held a small stack of datapads, the crate Breakdown was sitting on and another crate that Dreadwing’s high grade ration sat on. It was plain and boring and grey and dull. This room was not fit for the first sparklings in millenia! “Please tell me that the humans left behind something to decorate this prison cell you call a room,” the medic made optic contact with the seeker, “or that your conjunx has a crib ready for your bitties.” When Dreadwing looked away, Knock Out sighed. “As I figured. I hope you both didn’t intend on sharing this tiny berth, which you both barely fit on, with two sparklings.” The lack of optic contact told Knock Out everything he needed to know. “When Ratchet’s done building whatever it is he’s building with the team, I’ll ask if he can get a crib made. Considering that one of your sparklings is much smaller than the other, there’s a chance it’ll need the extra support of a hermetically sealed crib.” The reminder of the minuscule spark compounded the shame Dreadwing felt. He should have been able to provide for his sparklings, should have made sure he had enough high grade… he should have…
What could he have done? Optimus was caring for him, and he did his best to keep his tanks filled and his forge topped off at all times despite the dwindling resources the Autobots struggled to ration.
“Do you think… the smaller one will make it?” Knock Out hummed, Breakdown fixed his posture to rest a large fist on his hip. “If there’s anything wrong with it…” he held a tenative hope with slightly dimmed ruby optics, “Can you and Ratchet… help it? Help both of them?”
“As a medic? I don’t know, we’ll try everything we can to make sure your bitlets are as healthy as possible. As a mech who cares for you and your sparklings? I really hope so.”
…
In the main area of the base, Ratchet had managed to cobble together a… device? A contraption? Some sort of jetpack doohickey or… It could fly and that was enough for Ratchet. It had to be enough to get Smokescreen back. It had been nearly a whole month since he was caught, and between the stress of trying to care for Dreadwing, dealing with the fallout of his crumbling relationship, and trying to build something from scrap parts without Agent Fowler assisting in some way was running him ragged. It just needed to carry Arcee, the lightest of the bots, so that she could grab them the coordinates of the Nemesis and he could bridge them in and out.
The testing was actually going pretty smoothly, only a few hiccups and one blown jet engine, but otherwise all was well. At least, until the main console of the base went off. Optimus set down the wrench he was given and seen who the caller was. The sound of his battle mask snapping close made Ratchet pause.
“Is it who I think it is?”
“Indeed… Megatron.”
“What the frag are you doing? Are you trying to kill yourself?” He slapped the glowing blue fuel out of Smokescreen's servos. “Why would you willingly take what a con gives you? Especially as a prisoner.”
Smokescreen scoffed. He held out shortly after Wheeljack came to, he made it about six more cycles — pretty sure it was six, it may have only been four— before he needed to refuel. He attempted to explain to the wrecker that if they were going to poison him, they would have done it long before he got caught. Bad answer. “How am I going to fight back if I have no energy?”
“Oh, it’ll be easy when they've been poisoning you for who knows how long.” His fuel gauge ticked down steadily. Getting close to the red. “You should be able to conserve fuel better anyways, you're a speedster.”
“More like the reason I go through it faster. I know you need refueling too. I can’t go any longer than 10 cycles before I need to refuel!” he looked away. “I also almost went into stasis. If we go into stasis, Megatron uses the patch on us.” Wheeljack groaned. The first time the patch was used on him, it was more than an unpleasant experience. It was invasive and probed into every single corner and encrypted file in your processor, down to your base coding to watch all of your memories and every dark moment you’ve experienced. “At least I’ll be able to fight back if they use it on me.”
“Do you even know what they're looking for?” The speedster shook his helm. “Frag, I can only guess it has something to do with Prime and Bucket-head. They wont get slag outta me.” Smokescreen knew, but he was smart enough to know that if the Decepticons wanted to get the information about the sparklings from him, they would have to fight him for it.
“Think there's anyone looking for us?”
“Ratchet asked me to come get you, so I’m assuming, yes, they are trying to get us. But we can’t send our coords so it's a guessing game.” He folded his arms and leaned back against the wall. The sound of his chains rattling as he moved were a bit more barbaric than he expected them to use. It was likely Starscream who chained them up. “Ratchet will come up with something, he always does.” There was a bittersweet sting in his spark. Maybe he had been too uncaring for his conjunx. As loathe as the wrecker was to admit it, Ratchet was right, it had been too long since he’d spoken with him. But he wasn’t about to just forgive the mech who already caused so much pain and trouble for the Autobots. Bulkhead had agreed with him, Bulkhead was uncomfortable with the seeker’s presence but because it was Optimus’ pet project, he couldn’t just tell him that Dreadwing needed to leave. And apparently Prime was even keeping him a secret! Despite all the scrap the team went through, and how Optimus put himself on the front lines to fight, he was still a figure-headed prime.
Somebot with power that got to do whatever he pleased with no consequences.
The tinny speakers buzzed online before a rough voice sounded through them.
“Glad to see you’re awake, Wheeljack.”
Megatron.
“It was a surprise that we ended up with two Autobots instead of just one, but I won’t complain.”
“We won’t tell you anything bucket-head!” A laugh crackled over the speakers. “The Autobots are gonna get us out of here and kick your aft before we get home!” Smokescreen shouted out.
“I will give you the opportunity to explain yourselves and give you an easy way out. Why was Optimus contacting Knock Out and Breakdown and stealing our engex rations?”
“Suck my cable, Mega-freak!” Wheeljack chuckled, yeah, Smokescreen was a wrecker through and through. “We won’t tell you scrap!!”
“Quite a shame. No matter, I will find out in due time, whether you cooperate or not.” Then the speakers stayed quiet. Wheeljack huffed, his fuel gauge had dipped to the upper end of the red zone, he could reroute the power from nonessential processes to vital components so he could last longer without fuel. He’d done it once before, he could do it again.
…
What the hell was taking the Autobots so long to get them?
“My lord, while it would be my pleasure to torture the idiotic Autobots we have captured, offering them our resources seems like a waste.” Megatron shook his helm as he stood at the main command console on the bridge. “Instead of trying to bargain for our former medic and his bumbling conjunx, we should find out how the Autobots got in contact with them and why they've been stealing all of our engex. We should not waste our time trying to get answers from the Prime. He's likely to deflect all of your questions.” Megatron simply huffed a low growl, a sure sign that Starscream’s suggestion was heard and ignored.
“There may be details we can glean from what we cannot hear.” He turned to his communication officer, “Send a live feed to the prison cell. I want Optimus to watch everything we do to our prisoners.” Soundwave nodded wordlessly and set up a live recording to accompany the video to the Autobot base, encrypting the frequency so they couldn’t back trace it. The line rang for a few kliks before the mech on his processor appeared on screen. “Hello, Prime.”
Starscream stepped off to the side and out of view of the camera, “While you speak with the Autobots, I will get the information that he will not tell us from his loyal teammates.” The seeker turned and made his way to the medibay, Shockwave was already setting up the cortical psychic patch cables in calculated silence. Moments later, two vehicon drones drug an unconscious Wheeljack into the room and shackled him to the medislab. “Plug me in. Let us see what these wretched Autobots have been hiding from us.” Shockwave’s single optic zeroed in on the narrow seeker, the only indication that his words were acknowledged was the slight pause in his work as he plugged the SIC into the patch and connected the Autobot’s processor into the converter.
Optimus watched in mute horror as Wheeljack was connected to Starscream. “Wait, Megatron! What do you want?” Ratchet was looking over his shoulder and turned off his vocalizer to suppress a gasp at the sight of his conjunx. This was worse than if they just hooked up the patch to Smokescreen, they were hoping that it would be Smokescreen and not the jaded wrecker.
“Oh Optimus, do not act like a newspark,” The warlord noted to himself the brief flinch at the use of the insult, “If you refuse to tell me how you got into contact with my medic, what lies you told him, and why you have been stealing my rations of engex. I will be forced to get my answers with or without you.” His optics flitted to the screen showing the medibay. Sending a comm to Shockwave, both leaders watched as the seeker was plugged in and the monitor was projected to the main holofeed. Soundwave made sure that both factions could see both screens. “If there is something you don’t want me to see, you should speak up before feed warms up. It will take Starscream some time to find what he’s looking for.” Optimus’ optics bounced between all three screens, and Megatron relished in the satisfaction from how fearful his opponent looked, the feeling sharply curled around his spark and left him longing for the same look on the battlefield with his blade sunk deep into the red chassis of a friend turned foe.
How was he supposed to navigate around this? There was no way to outright lie when Wheeljack had been there to accuse Dreadwing of taking advantage of him, he had seen the bright glow of the two sparks in his chamber, he was the first of the team to see Dreadwing after his absence. Starscream would see it all, Megatron would find out and demand his conjunx and his sparklings be surrendered back to the Decepticons without being able to see his sparklings emerge.
“Last chance, Prime. You know I hate when secrets are kept from me.” Optimus’ audial antennae flicked back for the quickest of moments, a telltale sign that he was comming his medic for advice under much duress. So much of Orion remained in his enemy. The mech before him sighed out a long exvent.
“What you will find, Megatron, is that I have been helping previous members of the Decepticons who no longer agree with what you fight for and have allied with me and my team. Your methods of attaining power and control are leading to members of your faction defecting. You have lost the true reason of what you were fighting for.” Megatron huffed, and the live feed of Wheeljack’s processor buzzed to life.
…
The lights of the main console of the base were bright and flickering, Wheeljack knew that his conjunx had a real bad habit of staying up for extended periods of time without recharge. Sure it was a surprise visit, but he’d get him to lay down by any means necessary. "Hey sunshine, I thought you said you weren't goin to stay up so..." he stopped when he saw Optimus’ servo resting on the lower back struts of a large blue seeker. He drew his swords when he realized the only mech those damn blue wings belonged to was the piece of scrap that killed Seaspray, that almost blew up Bulkhead. “What's this slaghead doing here?!”
“Wheeljack.” Optimus took a half step in front of Dreadwing.
“What’s goin on here? You better have a good reason for housing the enemy.” His optics never left that damned seeker just in case he tried anything funny, other than weaseling his way into the arms of Optimus.
“These are extenuating circumstances, Wheeljack.” Optimus gave him a weak excuse, he was looking more for ‘Dreadwing is going to give us all the ‘con secrets then we'll offline him’.
“I’ll explain it to you later, Wheelj-” He cut off his conjunx before he tried to soothe him with weak platitudes.
“No, you’ll explain it now before I rip his spark from his greying chassis!” The seeker had the nerve to sigh as if this was old news, like if Megatron had surrendered yesterday and it was common knowledge.
“Despite our previous history, know that I am only here as the only mech that is currently carrying the future of our species.” Wheeljack narrowed his optics.
Off to the side of the base where all of this was taking place, Starscream did his best to control the feeling of shock on his faceplate. Surely the only remaining seeker on this ball of dirt hadn’t willingly procreated with a filthy mud roller. Wheeljack only stood to his side with his arms crossed, knowing from prior experience that there wasn’t anything he could do to stop the memory from replaying.
“That’s a load of slag. Nobot’s been able to carry since before the war began. Pick a better lie next time.”
The Prime spoke up again, trying to placate him, ordering him to put his weapons away when he recoiled from the bright shine of Dreadwing’s spark as he stepped from behind Optimus. To his horror, besides the glow of his spark was twin sparks fluttering around behind the housing of his spark. Wheeljack’s EM field of aggressive disgust cascaded off his frame in strong waves.
Starscream stepped out into the light and took a closer look alongside the memory of Wheeljack. Dreadwing was “allegedly” supposed to be everything he could not be. Stronger, more level-headed, more loyal, less impulsive, the perfect second-in-command while he was “offline”. And yet, here he was, sparked up, but by who? He knew who most mecha had a fancy for within high command. Soundwave held some sort of affectionate reverance for Megatron, Shockwave kept to himself, Airachnid had her insecticons to keep her company if she needed, Knock Out and Breakdown were conjunxes, and he personally did his best to keep Megatron under his thumb. Was it a vehicon? Was it Megatron? He did have a preference to seekers and aerial builds, perhaps the position of second-in-command was one that spent more time in berth with the warlord than other officers.
“I guess we’ll just take in anyone who get sparked up, huh? I betcha in a week those damned sparkling will fizzle out and die! We don’t have any extra energon for you!” Starscream looked at Wheeljack’s memory. He was right to some extent.
“Wheeljack! Do you understand how important this is?!”
“Just because you got sparked up by a big bad ‘con, doesn’t mean that we magically forget that you tried to blow up Bulkhead! What are we, a charity?” What did they not understand!? The Decepticons have their own medics, they can take care of him!
“If I was sparked up by any Decepticon, do you think I would be here? Optimus is the sire-”
What.
“You forced yourself onto Optimus? I knew that ‘cons were scum of the universe but I didn’t think they’d go this low.”
Looking between the ex-SIC and the Prime who was doing his upmost best to not lash out at the wrecker that was frothing with rage, Starscream was almost impressed. Taking advantage of the Autobot leader to topple the whole team from the inside out was a sure way to demoralize the enemy.
“You should be checking Optimus to make sure he didn’t get hurt!”
“What happened between myself and Dreadwing was consensual,” What happens between him and Megatron is technically considered ‘consensual’, but it doesn’t make it right, “What matters now is that we set aside our factions to ensure that Dreadwing is taken care of to support the future of our species.”
“Bullshit!! Since we’re fragging ‘cons, I might as well frag Megatron if everyone gets to pick a ‘con to spark up.” If anyone was going to spark the warlord, it would be the current second-in-command, not Wheeljack. Looking at the memory of the medic, he heard the rough grinding of dentae before his helm lowered.
“‘Might as well’, huh…” Turning back to the version of Wheeljack that was trapped in the memory with him, he was looking the other way, guilt clear in his stance. “Out.”
“You’re not seriously kicking me-”
“I said OUT!”
The residual memory of hurt and anger brushed against Starscream as Wheeljack pulled his field tight to his frame and stormed out the base. Harsh, but not his place to make judgment.
…
Ratchet could see Wheeljack’s guilty stance, the feeling of simple satisfaction about being right was wholly eclipsed by the mounting horror that Megatron now knew about Dreadwing. The warlord was silent, simply observing everything before his screen. A decision needed to be made before long, and before he could call a break to speak with his commanding officers, Starscream had sifted through another conversation the wrecker had about Dreadwing. More recent than the last, a conversation he’d had with large round wrecker.
The conversation detailed and highlighted Wheeljack’s growing frustration and displeasure at the fact that Dreadwing was alive and successfully carrying two sparklings. Ratchet kept his field tight to his chassis as he stood next to Optimus. This was how he talked about his patient, this was how he talked about Optimus… it made his tanks churn in revolt.
Another memory that seemed significant to Starscream was pulled up. Short and simple, just one where he ambushed an energon mine, stole a datapad from a lazy drone then destroyed it and offlined the vehicon. It only stood out so much because it seemed like it was a memory that the wrecker was trying to hide from him. Upon further inspection, the datapad was dated as recently as a quartex ago directly from Knock Out, the specific design on the housing classed it as belonging to the medibay. Looking over the shoulder of the memory of the white wrecker, he read that the datapad had the coordinates of every energon mine and a detailed account of Dreadwing’s medical history. “My Lord, the datapad looks as if it was well maintained, Knock Out and Breakdown have been in contact with the Autobots for much longer than we thought.” His voice crackled over the live holofeed.
Ratchet felt like his pedes were soldered to the floor. Several strong emotions ran through his processor and rippled across his EMF, clashing with the overwhelming dread rolling off of Optimus, even as he kept his field as tight to his frame as he did. The distress could be felt across the bond between him and Dreadwing, the other sending him a comm asking if he needed to be around him. Optimus fought the urge to retreat to his hab and remain curled up next to his future-conjunx and providing him all the transfluid he could give him. Megatron hummed in contemplation before speaking up.
“You’ve sparked up my previous second in command and have been holding him hostage, I am confident you harassed my medic to send you the coordinates to energon mines you have no business meddling in, and now you are going to attempt to talk me out of asking for the swift and safe return of my soldier and his Decepticon born sparklings.” Optimus shook his helm.
“If Dreadwing were to return to the Nemesis, how would I guarantee that my sparklings would be unharmed? I can ensure their safety if they remain with the Autobots.”
“You likely know where my medic is, return both of them and I return your soldiers to you. It should be a rather simple exchange of one's valued mechs for another.”
Ratchet was in his audial and blowing up his comms trying to give Optimus the advice on why they needed to keep Dreadwing and suggestions on getting their mechs back. Optimus’ field was ripe with stress, if he was being honest with himself, it would be hard to vocalize that Dreadwing was just as important, if not more important than the two mechs that Megatron had kidnapped. There was no way of knowing if the the screen showing Smokescreen in the dark cell had connected to their holostream. It was at this moment that Ratchet reminded him that he was not alone in the main area of the base, Arcee and Ultra Magnus were watching with harsh optics, Bulkhead and Bumblebee stayed and watched the conversation take place like they were watching a high speed rail accident. Sensing that the conversation that really needed to take place was much too sensitive for the four mechs to be in the room for, Ratchet quickly shooed them out and to their habsuites. The shuffling of metal on concrete was background noise as Optimus had a stare-down with Megatron. With the room being empty save for the medic, he returned to his spot next to the Prime.
“Is the feed I am seeing of Smokescreen connected to our conversation? Can he hear us?” Megatron quirked an eyebrow ridge.
“Yes.”
“Disconnect it, and do not harm either him or Wheeljack when you return him to the cell.”
“I hope you are hearing this, Autobot.” He sent a comm to Soundwave and the other screens were completely disconnected, the conversation was now between the two of them with their trusted advisors present for the conversation. “What is it that you couldn’t have any member of your team hearing you say?”
“I know that Soundwave is recording this conversation, I need your guarantee that this conversation will remain between me, you, Ratchet, as a medical professional, and Starscream.”
Megatron huffed a scorned laugh, “And why would my second-in-command need to be present for this conversation?” Ratchet spoke up.
“Because he is a seeker, and while all three of us know that I am the only licensed medic on Earth, I need to know everything I can about seeker carry cycles from Starscream.” Ratchet sighed a deep exvent. “If we are going to be trading five mechs for two, we need something more substantial for this trade to be equal.”
“As of right now, Dreadwing is the most important mech on this planet.”
“More important than two of your mechs?” Without missing a beat, Optimus confirmed his statement. Megatron hummed. Of course he would fight him on getting the pregnant seeker back. Soundwave sent an image file for all the participants on the video call to see, it was an image of the two Omega Keys they had in their possession. “How about the remaining keys and your precious Autobots? Is that sufficient enough for a trade?”
Ratchet spoke up quickly. “Not enough, we have no guarantee you won’t send Dreadwing to Shockwave as soon as we hand him over. That’s why Starscream needs to be here so that you know what to expect during his carry cycle.” Megatron’s optics narrowed, he sent an urgent comm to the SIC for him to rush to the bridge. When he arrived, he sauntered in and bowed before a sneer made its home on his faceplate.
“And I am needed because…”
“You are the only other seeker from Vos.” Starsceam crossed his arms and stuck his hip out. “You can help me emphasize how important certain aspects of Dreadwing’s carriage are to Megatron. When we make the trade, you will be the only one with direct experience with what he is going through.” Starscream’s wings raised higher, the smug pride visible from the other side of the video call. “You can confirm that Optimus is required to be present before, during, and after Dreadwing’s emergence?”
“Yes,” He exvented, “without the sire, there would be life threatening consequences for the newsparks and the carrier.”
“You can confirm that is it better to have a medic formally trained in emergence and another medic with practical experience treating seekers assisting Dreadwing throughout the second half of his carriage?”
“Yes, one covers what the other cannot.”
“Carrying twins is already quite a strain on any cybertronian frame, there were complications during his spark drop, he needs constant medical appointments to ensure that his sparklings emerge with as few complications as possible. Starscream, can you confirm that Dreadwing needs a higher the average volume of refined energon to support the developing frames of both sparklings, upwards of four times the daily rations that most flight frames need?”
Starscream nodded, “Yes, I can confirm.”
“In order to ensure that Dreadwing is getting the best care with access to as much refined energon as he needs, I need verbal confirmation that the Autobots and the Decepticons have a cease-fire.” Optimus straightened his posture as he made optic contact across the screen. “No Autobots will be hunted and no Decepticons will be harmed. With the Omega Keys, I will return to Cybertron and begin to restore the planet so that my sparklings will grow up without war.” Megatron grunted. “You will keep open direct lines of communication with me and Ratchet, and I will be able to leave and return to Dreadwing at anytime throughout his carriage, supervised by a Decepticon officer unless we require privacy.” Starscream cringed, knowing from experience how frequent a moment of ‘privacy’ was needed when he was carrying.
“You would be willing to put an end to the war by giving up your sparklings? A poor decision as a sire.” Optimus clicked his vox off but his audial antennae still flicked back and his engine gave an angry rev.
“Verbal confirmation that you will call a cease-fire, Megatron, and to agree to the current terms. There will be more to discuss when we draft an official binding document between the two factions. This is bigger than us.” Optimus finished with a growl in his vox. Megatron crossed his arms over his chassis and hummed in contemplation. Soundwave commed him with the meeting notes and a rundown of what he was agreeing to. Unreasonable in his optics, but considering that he couldn’t recall when the last he’d even heard of a mech getting naturally sparked and delivering twins to full term, he supposed that Optimus was just trying to cover all his bases so he couldn’t catch him in a loophole on a technicality.
“I acquiesce and call a temporary cease-fire, Optimus Prime. However if there is anything we did not discuss in this meeting and your demands put too much strain on my troops, I will call off the cease-fire. Until Dreadwing, Knock Out, and Breakdown are returned to me, I will continue to hold onto Smokescreen and Wheeljack and the remaining Omega Keys.”
“They are to remain unharmed.”
“You have my word, Optimus Prime.” Ratchet got a comm from Knock Out asking when he would be finished with whatever rocket he was making, the smaller of the two sparklings would need a hermetically sealed crib to aid in development. He held a servo up, signaling that he was going to return to the conversation but needed to take a comm.
In a rapid discussion between two medics, Ratchet explained the situation they were facing and to keep Dreadwing out of the loop until Optimus explained it to him. Nothing was set in stone and they needed to workshop the details before he would be sent to the Nemesis. Knock Out dampened his field and agreed, seeing the resources the Autobots were lacking, it would be better in the long run to ensure that Dreadwing no longer struggled daily. Ending the comm, he returned to the video call. “We have a couple more demands. One of Dreadwing’s sparklings require a hermetically sealed crib, temperature controlled and airtight.” Starscream’s optics widened.
“What did you do to Dreadwing?”
“The status of Dreadwing’s sparklings are on a strictly need to know basis, and as of right now, you don’t need to know until Megatron agrees to the truce we’re going to create.” Ratchet glowered at the seeker across the screen.
“Of course you ground-pounders would frag up a seeker’s carriage. You said he already went through spark drop, correct?” Ratchet nodded stiffly. “This meeting should have happened much sooner to avoid complications. As a medical professional, you should know when to call for help.”
“We wouldn’t know if Megatron would just kidnap Dreadwing’s sparklings and pass them off to Shockwave for experimenting, which we still won’t know if he’ll do.”
“Oh please. As if starving and grounded is any better for Dreadwing. We treated your mechs with more respect than you dolts have shown Dreadwing. Incompetent mulch munchers-”
“Better than being experimented on!! Unless you have a medical degree and license to practice medicine issued to you from the Iacon Academy of Science and Technology, I don’t want your opinion in how I treat my patients!”
“I don’t need a degree to tell me that a the needs of a carrying seeker are more than you fragging loam crawlers know!! If you bothered to consult me earlier-”
“Shut up! Shut! up! If you were in the same situation as Dreadwing, you would make the same decisions as he did!! If the roles were reversed, you would understand why he did what he did, you would understand why I had to do the things I had to do to help Dreadwing!!”
“You act as if you’re the leading expert on seeker carriages-”
“I studied under a fragging medic whos alt mode was a jet you slagged cloud fucker!!!”
“Cloud fucker?! You mud brained glitch!!” Megatron pinched his space between his optics, Optimus mirroring him and pulled Ratchet away from the screen as Megatron bellowed a low command.
“Quiet!!” Starscream cowered at the volume and shrunk his posture as his wings hiked up in defense. “We will be waiting for the truce.” He then cut the connection and ended the call.