Luck had finally favored Starscream.

His heels clicked through the Nemesis brig as he approached his prize: an Autobot prisoner. His prisoner.

A smug grin crossed his faceplates. Megatron didn't know yet, and that was perfect. This captive could lead him to the Autobot base—and prove Starscream was more than just a servant.

He dragged his claws along the cell bars, enjoying the sound.

"Information, power, respect..." he mused.

His red optics narrowed on the captive.

"My, my, my," he purred. "Don't you look comfortable?"