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A New Golden Age

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A new dawn settled on the recently rebuilt city of Kaon. Citizens stirred online as rays of light flooded their berth-chambers. As they awoke one-by-one, excitement coursed through all of their circuits for this day was of great importance; it was the coronation of Megatron and Starscream as the supreme rulers of Cybertron.

The official ceremony had been put on hold for quite some time after the resolution of the Great War. The restoration of their war-torn planet held upmost precedent after the execution and imprisonment of the defeated Autobots.

Justice was dealt swiftly to their high command and the helm of Optimus Prime decorated the entrance to the grand capitol. The remaining Autobots were used as prison labour to bolster the ranks of the reconstruction effort.

Cybertronians that had fled when the civil war destroyed their world returned upon news of the war’s end and were challenged with two choices: assist their new Decepticon brethren in rejuvenation or face the consequences. Most chose the former.

The damage dealt upon their planet was great, but the mechs of Cybertron were determined to make their leaders’ dream of renewal a reality. Unity and hope flowed through their processors as they tirelessly worked to birth a new Golden Age.

As their work bore fruit, Kaon surpassed the prestige of Iacon of old. Its streets bustled with activity and purpose as pubs, medical centres, cultural hubs, and businesses of all kinds blossomed into fruition. Emancipated from the archaic nonsense of Functionism, bots from all walks of life were free to choose their vocation and hobbies.

At the epicentre of the great city-state stood Kolkular, the headquarters of the Decepticons and now proud capital of Cybertron. The metallic walls of the fortress shone brightly as the sun continued to rise. Its residents already up and about to prepare for the big day. The grand hall needed to be pristine and magnificent for nothing but perfection was acceptable in the optics of a certain Seeker.

In his shared berth-chamber with Megatron, Starscream fussed in annoyance as his aides fumbled in polishing him, their servos teeming with nervousness and joy at being chosen to assist one of their leaders. However, the prime reason for their joint clumsiness was due to them ogling the new frame of the jet.

Sleek, aerodynamic lines of gold and scarlet graced their vision, causing their cooling fans to awkwardly hum in the spacious room. A rush of apologies left their mouths as they quickly calmed their anxieties, submerged their amorous thoughts, and properly applied the polish to his body.  

Megatron shook his helm in amusement at the antics of his Conjunx as he overheard the commotion from the balcony of their room. With his arms clasped behind his back, he peered across the waking city and mulled over the state of his own body.

He still possessed the Ore-13 empowered frame that assisted in their victory over Optimus Prime and his accursed Autobots. The peace he had dreamed of in Towards Peace would soon be achieved and then and only then would he rid himself of the rail gun currently attached to his right servo.

The scars and dents that littered his body were a grim reminder of the pain and loss his Decepticons endured during the long course of the war. This battered frame of his would be a living symbol to represent an era of hostility and strife that will never ravage their world and his people again.

Cybertron would flourish under the combined rule of Starscream and himself.  After all, it was their mediation that had led to the destruction of their steady rivals. Optimus Prime and his cohorts could not have foreseen the both of them working together in perfect unison and that was their fatal mistake.

Megatron knew long ago that with Starscream at his side, no goal was out of their reach and that the universe would be theirs to conquer.

“Are you finished brooding or should I come back?”

Megatron’s helm turned slightly to the beautiful sight of Starscream glistening in the sunlight as the jet strutted up to smirk at his beloved bondmate. Dainty claws grasped the balcony’s railing as he settled beside Megatron.

By the unmasked hunger in those piercing optics, Starscream figured the bumbling fools must have done a somewhat decent job at polishing his frame. He might have even thanked them if he had not already dismissed them.

“I wasn’t brooding,” Megatron clarified. “I was thinking.”



“Oh, really?” Starscream raised an optic ridge. “And what about me? Do tell.”

“It was your brilliance and cunning that secured our victory, our future. Look, Starscream,” Megatron gestured to their view of the city. “Look at our world. Cybertron has never experienced true freedom of this magnitude. We did this and we will crush all those that stand before us. Together.”

“You big sap.” Starscream snorted with a roll of his optics but could not suppress the smile forming on his face. Megatron leaned down as a silent request, tilting the Seeker’s chin up with his servo. Starscream obliged him by lifting himself up on his heel struts and locked their lips in a passionate kiss.

Their EM fields intertwined in a swirl of fierce love as they parted slightly, helms resting comfortably on each other. Their optics shut as their sparks pulsed in tandem, their bond strengthening with each beat.

Despite his lover’s affinity for the dramatics, the jet could not object to the results of their reconciliation. How comical it was for the war to end simply when they ceased their incessant bickering and acknowledged each other’s faults and strengths.

They both came to understand the other’s solution to their four million stellar cycles old problem and devised a devilish plan that utilised their shared prowess in deception. Their union produced a harmonic serenity that washed over their troops and solidified the complete annihilation of the Autobots.

A give and take entity slowly formed between them that burst into a cohesion they had not experienced since the beginning of the war. Their mutual commitment to the Decepticon cause culminated into the Cybertron that laid before them.

No want, no unhappiness, no dissent.

Peace through tyranny.

“My Lords, it is time.”

A humble Decepticon scout bowed in reverence to the now reluctantly parting couple. Megatron reached down to grasp Starscream’s servo and placed a gentle kiss upon it. The jet huffed in faux indignation, still unaccustomed to such blatant expressions of affection. However, he could not deny how it warmed his spark to immeasurable degrees.

Servos clasped; the two leaders followed the scout to the grand hall of Kolkular. It was clear to Megatron—much to his chagrin—that no expense was spared to lavishly decorate the hall to the specific demands of his Conjunx. The subtle grin resting on the face of Starscream was proof enough that their aides had satisfied the exceptionally picky Seeker.

As they walked to their designated positions by their thrones, Megatron and Starscream waved to their subjects still servo in servo. The hall was packed to the brim for no mech of Kaon was barred from witnessing the crowning of their beloved rulers, the roar of their cheers deafening all in attendance.

Starscream had mused that after their long and arduous effort to reconstruct a portion of their planet, the mechs of Cybertron deserved a lively respite. Megatron steeled himself for the inevitable boasting of his mate after the event transpired.

Arriving at their destination, the two lovers stood before their thrones and faced the crowd. The previous thunderous cacophony settled to a hush of whispers and soon complete silence. Those who could not physically attend the ceremony also muted their conversations as they watched the televised proceedings.

“Citizens of Cybertron and the Constellate,” Megatron began. “This past stellar cycle has been a gruelling journey to restore what was once lost. Today, we commemorate your valiant efforts in rebuilding Kaon!”

“Though there is still much work to be done,” Starscream added gently with a practised smile. “The full revival of Cybertron is well within our grasp now!”

“Hone this fervour, this drive and Cybertron will be the shining beacon of our glorious Decepticon Empire! We will continue our dominion over the lesser species and take our rightful place as masters of the known universe and beyond!”

“Under our united might and brilliance, we will lead you all to a new galactic order that will crush the anti-mechanical prejudice that has swept across the cosmos. Stand with us for it has never been a better time to be a Decepticon!”

“All hail Cybertron!” They declared as one.

A wave of applause and hollers rumbled across the masses in the grand hall and all of Kaon. Pride and determination charged their frames as they repeated the final message of their lords with ecstatic zeal. No longer subjugated to a cruel caste system that oppressed their liberties, they were free to usher in a new era of Cybertronian supremacy and they owed their full gratitude to Megatron and Starscream.  

The cheers and adulation of the crowd continued as the rulers of Cybertron seated themselves on their thrones. The two assistants that had polished the radiant Seeker, returned on each side of Megatron and Starscream, both holding a bejewelled crown resting on a tasselled pillow. The duo’s shaking servos successfully crowned their lords and the persistent ovation erupted into a booming uproar.

With a deep bow, the twin mechs left the stage. As they departed, Megatron shifted his discerning gaze to his Conjunx. A buzz of electricity surged through Starscream as he felt the heated attention of his beloved once again and lessened his posturing for the crowd and cameras to address his other half.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because you’re stunning.”

“Would you quit that!?” The jet hissed, failing to stop energon from tinting his cheeks. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Only for you, my dear Starscream.”

“Is that so? Well, two can play at that game, dear Megatron.” Leaning over and up to the much larger mech, Starscream cupped Megatron’s face between his claws and kissed him. Hoots and whistles reverberated everywhere as the corulers of Cybertron shamelessly canoodled.

The bonded pair separated slightly, crowned helms mere centimetres from each other.

“I love you, you sentimental oaf.”

“I love you, too.”