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The air was pleasantly crisp, and this planet's singular star shone brightly here above the clouds. Predaking stretched out with spread wings to soak up as much of the sun's rays as possible. He was no mere beast as many saw him as, but he did appreciate the small things just the same, like loafing about in the warm sun. Especially after having achieved a well-earned victory against his Master's enemies.
Through his jaw resting on the Nemesis' flight deck he felt the vibrations of the ship below him, and could easily discern heavy Pede-steps coming towards him. He lifted his great horned head lazily to greet whoever joined him when he registered a faint whiff of chemicals. It intrigued him, calling to some deep instinctual part, but he couldn't place it. The more he analyzed and sampled, the more familiar it became; even if he didn't know what it was exactly.
He was still pondering on it when Lord Megatron appeared, accompanied by his trusty Third.
"...probably a side effect of the Dark Energon, or because we have a steady source of normal Energon right now." his Liege huffed, sounding annoyed, "No matter. It will pass in a few cycles."
"You sure about that?" Soundwave asked with the small red doctor's voice.
"It will pass" Megatron groused angrily, "Heats simmer down on their own when they are ignored and not tended to. But they also tend to spread and cause unrest, especially in confined areas." He sniffed. "Seen it before; in the Mines. One started to have a Heat, and the rest of the group was completely useless for the whole deca-cycle until the issue was over. So I will have to isolate myself to wait this out."
He patted Predaking's snout absent-minded. The dragon trilled at having found the source of the strangely likeable, familiar chemicals. Megatron turned to his TIC. "Keep an eye on things here in my stead. And for pity's sake, keep Starscream distracted. I do not need him getting ideas of taking any type of advantage of my unfortunate state, because I will kill him if he tries anything; and we can not replace him right now." He waved him off, "I'll be in the wreck of the Harbinger if needed, and will return as soon as this is over."
With that he flung himself overboard, transformed and flew off. The Predacon and Spy watched him go. Latter turned and went back inside, while the former settled back down to loaf a little more. It was just a pity those intriguing chemicals were also gone. He rather liked them.
However, soon after Predaking felt himself... growing restless. He stalked the lower decks of the Nemesis in his bipedal Alt-Mode, snapping at anyone even looking into his direction. His pelvic plates seemed to grow unbearably tighter, which caused his temper to shorten considerably.
The only times when he calmed down was when he withdrew into his Master's now empty chamber. His scent still permeated the air, no matter how diffused now, and it was drawing him in. It was a shame he couldn't continue doing so when his Liege returned from his... what did he call it? Heat?
That, too, seemed familiar; and that, too, he couldn't quite place. The Predacon part of him felt downright giddy, even though his processor couldn't quite place why. So, like with everything he didn't quite understand, he went to ask the one he knew would give him a straight answer without talking in circles.
Predaking wrest himself out of his Liege's quarters and turned his steps to his Creator's laboratory.
The cyclopean scientist didn't even look up when he entered. "Shockwave" he began, "What is a Heat?"
Shockwave's gaze remained fixed upon his Data Pad. "Heats are an obsolete occurrence" he explained, "It marks a Mech as reproductively receptive. It also causes compatible Mechs nearby to turn procreative."
Something primal stirred in his belly, and Predaking stood straighter. "As in producing Offspring?"
"Correct. However, despite still retaining the ability, Cybertronians do not reproduce such way any more. Its scarce frequency, provoked upheaval, and following required time and resources has detracted its use as reproductive method, as we do have access to the Well of Allsparks and Forging as faster, easier and more reliable procedures. Only Cyberanimals and Organics still procreate in such primitive proceedings."
He thanked him and went back towards the flight deck. He was no Cyberanimal, and certainly no Organic. But some deep instinctual part of him, that part that was purely Predacon, understood with a sudden clarity. And he also knew what he had to do.
The Harbinger was well hidden, a part of him purred pleased, well defensible. It was a shame he had to return to his Cybertronian form to enter, as it was too small for his true shape, though his senses were still as sharp as ever, so it was no trouble finding his wayward Liege. His smell, so ripe, hung heavily in the air.
Predaking rounded the corner to the former bridge and stopped when a whining Fusion Cannon was aimed at him. Megatron glared at him. "Predaking, I am in no mood." he snarled, "Leave!"
The Predacon backed away for just a moment. But his sensors told him his Liege was currently at the height of his reproductive cycle; at the most fertile; while his own frame had entered the height of his own procreative phase. And it had been his mate's Heat signals that started his own Rut in the first place; so they were compatible. They were meant to be. As such they had to mate.
Predaking stood taller and stepped closer instead, fanning his wings to show off his frame. "I wish to offer my assistance, my Lord" he spoke, "To aid you through this time, and quieten your desires."
Megatron scoffed. "The only 'desire' I have is to be left in peace" he growled, and unsheathed his blade. "I do not repeat myself a third time: Leave."
Predaking stopped his slow approach, optics settling on the drawn weapon. So his Master wished to fight? Good, whispered the Predacon part of his processor. A mating fight to show his strength and virility. Fight him to prove your own. He spread his claws and stepped closer.
He... wasn't quite sure what happened then. Next thing he knew he looked bewildered up at the ceiling and his Lord's blade aimed at him. "Leave!" Megatron roared, and his Spark jumped.
Not in fear, but elation.
His intended had agreed to and begun the fight! He wanted to test Predaking whether he was suitable as mate!
A delighted grin split his face, and he retaliated, swiping his Liege's feet out from under him. Megatron stumbled with a curse and quickly corrected his stance - a clear sign he fought a lot - but Predaking had already jumped back to his feet and threw himself at him with a roar of his own.
Time blurred after that. They were evenly matched, and their fight took them all over the bridge and adjacent rooms. Predaking purred in pleasure at this show of strength and stamina, but hissed irritated when his intended mate stubbornly refused to acknowledge his instincts - despite the fact that the air must've been saturated with their combined chemical signals by now. And still his mate did not back down to end the fight and acknowledge him as the chosen partner. Instead he seemed to become more brutal. Was he was still not satisfied with Predaking's display?
Then again, the silver Mech was no Predacon himself, so instinct didn't mean anything to him.
The Predacon's thoughts broke off abruptly and he snarled when the Fusion Cannon seared his shoulder, and set his jaw in determination. He hated to actually injure his mate during the mating fight, but his mate wanted to injure him. Predaking engaged his T-Cog before he could think better of it. He was too big for the room they were in, taking his opponent's ability to dodge, and clamped his teeth onto the other's arm.
Megatron yelled in pain and rage when the Predacon's jaws snapped shut and something broke. Predaking jerked his head away, Fusion Cannon a piece of scrapped wreck, while the other stumbled back with a shout, holding his damaged and bleeding limb against his chest. A quick, guilty check told the dragon it was torn open where the cannon had sat, but nothing was broken. He wanted to lick it clean as apology.
Then Megatron roared and lunged at him again, and his guilt was forgotten.
Their mating fight took exceedingly long once again, before Predaking finally got lucky. Megatron, flagging from the battle, stumbled over some scrap, and could not correct his footing fast enough. The Predacon immediately leapt and tackled his mate to the ground. It still took him a considerable amount of time until he had wrestled him to a standstill and gotten a good hold on his scruff with his dentae. He would be proud of his chosen mate if he just could get his venting back under control.
"You will pay for this transgression!" his Liege snarled, venting just as hard. Predaking nuzzled the back of his helm as apology.
But he had won the mating fight, and would not have his victory be taken from him. His reproductive array unfolded from its cramped position and he groaned in relief before blindly groping for his mate's. Megatron stiffened when his claws found it open and ready; not having realized that it had been open at all. Predaking felt almost sympathetic. It was his Liege's first mating, despite his age, and it showed. But he also swelled in pride as his mate had never deigned to take a partner before now; there had never been one as powerful as Predaking.
And although it was also his first mating, his body knew what to do. So would his mate's; once he was properly mounted.
Megatron, of course, did not make it easy. He froze up again when Predaking inserted his array into his mate's, nearly moaning at the unfamiliar, pleasurable feelings, when his Liege suddenly jerked sideways. Predaking yowled and drew back in pain, while Megatron smirked darkly. "Do not even try to attempt, Predaking" he snarled over his shoulder.
The Predacon answered with a snarl of his own, and threw his whole weight forwards. His Master bellowed in anger and started to fight again, attempting to free himself; but Predaking ground down and overpowered him until he could not so much as twitch. He bemoaned that he couldn't take him in his true form, but then he'd injure his mate for real.
His strong mate, that even now never once stopped fighting him, not even when Predaking finally sheathed himself in the deepest and most sacred part of his body. Megatron bellowed in anger when the locks engaged and the Predacon's tanks started emptying themselves into his mate's forge.
Predaking finally dared to relax his hold - only to hiss in displeasure when his mate immediately tried to escape from under him, but stopped right away with a roar of pain.
"What the frag is that?!" Megatron shouted.
"Barb-scales" Predaking answered, hissing, grinding deeper again to ease the tension of overly flared barbs, ignoring his mate's furious yell, "They prevent us from disengaging until you are properly bred, my Lord."
"Like Pit I will! Get out of me right now!"
Predaking merely sighed at this, before maneuvering them onto their sides to wrap his limbs more securely around his mate and hold on tighter. A reasonable action, considering how much his array still smarted from when Megatron attempted to break it off. It was clear his partner would try and tear free, his own health be damned, when he got the chance. And he was powerful enough to succeed should he set his mind to it.
Their resulting offspring would be powerful as well. The next generation of Predacons. Cybertron's sky would be darkened by their wings once again. All thanks to his strong mate. His Lord. His Queen.
"We'll be here for a while. Rest now, my Lord.", he hushed him, licking across his faceplates to soothe him, "Your body knows what it must do."