As it turned out, Paradron was not the only Cybertronian refugee colony out there. Since retaking Cybertron, the Autobots had come into contact with a good half-dozen of them, most doing quite well for themselves away from the ravages of war. From the Cybertronian Autobots' perspective, the colonies were living time capsules, pieces of a Golden Age that had long since passed for them.
From the Decepticons' perspective, the colonies were ripe targets.
Rodimus Prime careened through the shining streets of Amsolis, his entire focus on the shining dark figure hovering over the dais at the center of the city. Galvatron reigned over the storm of destruction there, roaring exhortations and blasting away with his cannon with equal fervor; if this madness was to end, Rodimus would have to take him down. He shifted gears and leaped forward.
Laserfire stitched the air around him; Rodimus steeled himself and drove faster. Cyclonus, ever faithful, stuck to him like a shadow with weapons blazing. "You'll have to do better than that, Cyclonus!" Rodimus shouted over the clamor.
In pointed answer, Cyclonus's lasers scored against Rodimus's back bumper. Yelping, Rodimus skidded and almost spun before he got his wheels back under him again. Cyclonus blew past him, all deadly edges and unmatched speed, and Rodimus shed his vehicle form and dove through the curtain of laserfire Cyclonus laid down. The violet bolts scorched his back, his spoiler; he hissed, regained his feet, and ran on. Minor leak, some burns. Nothing serious. I'm almost there...!
Galvatron couldn't have heard Rodimus's approach over the racket he was making; still, he turned, some other sense warning him - too late to bring his cannon to bear as Rodimus leaped up the dais and threw himself at his archrival. At the same time he heard Cyclonus transform behind him, and a moment later a great crashing impact drove him into Galvatron. All three collapsed to the shining metal of the dais, a tangle of limbs and wings and weapons, and Rodimus had enough time to feel a delicious silken thread of terror at the weight of them before the dais exploded into light.
Galvatron was the first to leap to his feet, Cyclonus only a moment behind; only Rodimus remained on the ground, bewildered and blinking. "What madness-" Galvatron began.
A lusty cheer answered him, echoing off the battle-scorched buildings of the city. Rodimus stood slowly, gazing over the battleground - the Amsolians were the ones who were cheering, discarding weapons in favor of celebrating in the streets, much to the bewilderment of Autobot and Decepticon alike.
Rodimus glanced down and squinted - it was the dais itself that was glowing, bright enough that he had to filter his optics, but he could just make out words inscribed on the steps. Words written in an ancient Autobot script, in praise of unity before Primus -
"Oh," the Prime said quietly.
"Prime!" Galvatron whirled on him. "What's going on?"
"Um." Rodimus tilted his head up with an apologetic smile. "I think we just got married."
"...What!?"
***
They'd been convinced to play along when the Amsolians brought out the energon. It was a more potent mix than Rodimus was used to, so he tried to sip it slowly while around him the city busied itself with that tradition that seemed nearly universal: the wedding feast.
To his left, Cyclonus and Galvatron weren't nearly so cautious. "You're not drinking enough, Prime," Galvatron told him, his earlier battle rage having replaced itself with slightly tiddly good humor roughly a third of the way into his second cube. Cyclonus, perched half in Galvatron's lap, nodded agreement.
Not about to admit the energon was too much for him, Rodimus downed the rest of his portion and - once the burn down his throat faded - politely signaled for another. "So what happens now?" he asked idly.
"Now? Now we keep drinking!" In illustration, Galvatron took a long pull off his own cube before favoring Rodimus with a grin that hovered just on the edge of savage. "As long as these colonists keep providing energon."
Rodimus couldn't help but grin at that. "You're an easy mech to please, Galvatron."
"Nonsense!" Mock-offended, Galvatron swatted at him; Rodimus ducked away, nearly fouling the server who'd brought a fresh cube for him. "As soon as the energon's depleted, we go back to our normal association."
"Oh." Rodimus glanced down, into his cube. Suddenly he didn't want it anymore.
Cyclonus chose that moment to rouse himself, though his optics were still semi-dark with watchful relaxation. "What is it, Rodimus?"
His voice let show only idle curiosity, not an imperative, yet Rodimus couldn't not answer. "Just... doesn't a marriage of this type usually come with an alliance?" His hands tightened around his cube - oh Primus, I actually said it.
A few moments stretched to an epoch of silence, then Cyclonus hummed thoughtfully. "Hmm..."
"Mmm." That had been Galvatron, and he'd sounded - Primus help him, to Rodimus's audials Galvatron had sounded almost satisfied. Rodimus had no time to analyze it before a dark hand slid over his shoulders, slipping in behind his spoiler. Rodimus shivered at the contact, let it draw him closer, and tilted his head up just as Galvatron bent his down.
Dimly Rodimus could hear a roar of approval from the crowd, and a protesting squawk - that had to be Kup, and Primus was he going to get his aft kicked later - but with Galvatron's lips on his it hardly seemed to matter. Kissing the Decepticon commander was like diving into the heart of a star - the heat of it consumed him, licked into his opened mouth and filled him with fire until all the mundane - doubts, fears, secret guilt - were burned away.
Then Galvatron broke the kiss, leaving Rodimus gasping and overheated half in his arms, and maneuvered him and Cyclonus within kissing distance. This time it was Rodimus, still enthralled, who initiated the kiss.
Cyclonus purred into his mouth, electric and bracing, and Rodimus came back to himself just enough to pull the jet closer. The cheer redoubled, as Galvatron bent to whisper to them - "I could get used to this!"
***
It was said that the treaty of Amsolis was honored more in the breach than the observance. Still, ultimately it did usher in an era of peace between Autobots and Decepticons, of a sort; and in any case, no one was going to tell Galvatron who he could fraternize with.