Chapter Text
“-Not even mentioning that you went behind our backs, Bumblebee! You could have been offlined and it still would have been cycles before we could find you!”
His loving caretaker, Ratchet, had been anxiously checking him over while giving him the scold of his lifetime. Despite his insistence that he was injured in no form, Ratchet’s insistence had more sway. Bee believed the medic just wanted to tell him off personally.
The prior scolding from Drift was all related to the “loyalty and obedience of children to their families,” and “Jetstorm and Slipstream never would do such a thing.” Straight slag. If he asked, he bet the minicons would help so long as they didn’t break any explicit rules set out by their teacher. They were incredible, but far from the perfect angels Drift spoke them as.
Through all this, Windblade was the only sane bot. She simply shook her head, patted his pauldron, and warned him.
The city speaker’s cool voice was calming through all the panicked angered remarks. “You had the squadron worried sick, Bee. Prime and Commander Elita One expect better from you. Come on.”
“Listen, I’m sorry-“
“Don’t apologize to me! I’m not upset with you, bossbot! It’s them you better grovel for!”
She pointed toward the meeting room he had been staring at during Ratchet’s pulpit. The regret already outweighed the joy of his short lived escape.
“Go into the room, Bumblebee. I’m sure Optimus would love to hear your excuse, as much as I did.” Ratchet ordered, pushing him gently with a wrench.
Send him to the Well. At least he met that stunning seeker, but he’s most likely getting locked in a tower for all eternity. Hot Rod stepped out of the room, and shook his head. That meant Bee was in for it.
No time like the present, he supposed.
“Bumblebee. Have a seat. We need to chat.” Elita commanded, sounding more battle ready than parental.
“Listen, I know, I shouldn’t have and-“
Was any bot going to let him ever finish a sentence?
Her stem tone blended with all the fury of Unicron pushed any chance of future rebellion from Bumblebee’s processor. “You’re damn right you shouldn’t have! I can’t believe this! You go behind our backs to sneak out on the cycle of the Decepticons arriving into Iacon! Don’t you realize how much civil unrest, therefore danger, arises from this unprecedented summit!? You are barely known to the world, no bot would question taking you into a crowd and just…awful things!”
She continued her speech, but Bumblebee shifted his optics towards Optimus. He sat parallel to the yellow bot, servos folded neatly on the table.
“Elita, I’m afraid that is enough. Bumblebee has to prepare himself for the Decepticons, who will be here within the next few joors.”
She exvented irritated, and poised herself back into the stoic leader who never let herself feel facade. “I suppose we can wait for this to continue. Get ready, Bumblebee, and you better be on your best behavior when Megatron and his court arrives.”
“Yes ma’am.” His voice was much more timid than he wanted it to sound.
Trecking up to his room, he saw minicons already waiting to prepare himself for the for the Decepticons. He sat around them, allowing the smaller bots to work their magic. In complete silence, they buffed, scrubbed, and shined Bee to perfection! He looked like a new frame, almost glittering in the golden room. Even though he was emotionally exhausted, the replenished energy from self care was undeniable.
He sat up to allow the pièce de résistance, a long, elegant cloak denoting his alignment and place amongst the court. Hot Rod had a matching one, since they were equals in the palace.
Silently nodding, Hot Rod commed Bee for some privacy. Not that the minicons would snitch. [You can’t avoid the lecture after all this, but next time ask me to cover for you, Bee!]
[Thanks, Hot Rod. If I make it to another cycle for there to be a next time.]
[Why’s you do it? Like I get rebellion, but why from you?]
[This whole Decepticon-Autobot cross faction thing! I’m totally being told to pick a bot to conjunx to!]
His brother stifled a laugh, but not very well. Bumblebee almost smacked the minicon addressing his servos just with frustration from Hot Rod. However, before the older of the two could spit out combatants, they both were pinged by Optimus to come to the entrance of the palace.
The Decepticons were already here!
Both princes silently inserted themselves to their designated positions, flanking their parents on both sides. Bumblebee stood proudly to the right side of Optimus, who seemed more weary than angry with him.
Leading the promenade was Lord Megatron himself. Legends disrespected this mech, he was larger and stronger than anything Bumblebee could even understand as possible! Each side of him had his famed commanders from Dreadwing to Airachnid, with most prominent being Soundwave, as his servo was taken by the gray Kaonian.
Behind all the whole battalion of fearsome mechs was a small trio. Seekers. They marched forward with helms held up high, wings forming an ornate trail following them.
And in the center of the three, it was the pretty mech from earlier! Primus, let him hide under his ceremonial cloak! Or simply offline!
As the Decepticon Royal Command exchanged pleasantries with his parents, he did everything he could to avoid making optic contact with any of the Trine. All three were the same frame, but the one Bee knew just seemed a cut above the others. Currently they seemed too distracted with anything but exchanging glances and snickering under their vent.
Perhaps Bee could just sneak off and get engaged to some other random royalty? Not the bot he acted stupid and wasn’t even supposed to see?
Unfortunately, Primus had his ways of ignoring whatever Bumblebee wanted. Optimus cued him to come forward and introduce himself. Megatron gave a deep bow, and with it, the trio stepped to be beside the warlord.
Scrap! The red seeker definitely remembered him, a wicked smirk coming over his model worthy face. With his freshly polished frame, his previous glow seemed dull. Fashioned along his chassis was a red and purple sash with the Deceptacon insignia along with symbols of Vosian fliers. The other two seekers had matching ones, with blue or black replacing the bright crimson.
Commander Dreadwing’s controlled voice was the only anchor Bee had to reality. “Prince Bumblebee, it is an honor to introduce the Decepticon heir: Prince Starscream of Vos.”