"We must all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately." — Benjamin Franklin (attributed)

It comes down to this: either the Autobots persuade the Predacons to fight beside them against the Quintessons, or they lose the planet. Again. At best. Prowl has the simulations to prove it.

Bumblebee brokers the meeting and is surprised that Predaking agrees to attend so readily. He was prepared first to argue, then to plead, but his initial invitation is sufficient. The Council discusses the possibility of trickery and ambush, but Predaking has always preferred to meet his adversaries in open battle and seems unlikely to change modes at this late date. The invasion has not touched his people yet: thus far they've been lying low, avoiding both Autobot and Quintessan patrols in their territory. It's unclear whether the Quintessons have realized that Cybertron is now inhabited by two sentient species or whether the Predacons care if the Autobots are defeated and enslaved as long as they themselves stay under the Quintessons' radar. Though Bumblebee guesses that Predaking is intelligent enough to run his own simulations. Prowl's certainly offer no good odds that the Predacons can retain their independence once the Autobots are conquered.

So if nothing else, Bumblebee intends to make sure the Predacons don't turn down the Council's proposal out of ignorance. There's no use pretending the situation isn't desperate, even if it means Team Prime loses what little face it has left. He just hopes Predaking isn't inclined to cut his fuel lines to spite his engine.

They meet on neutral ground, or as close to it as they can manage in the middle of a war. The Autobots still hold the Hydrax Canyons and their upper end is a Predacon range. Arcee scouts a suitable location on the border: a narrow slot between the twisting, canted faces of two of the ancient city's ruined structures. Like a back alley, Bumblebee reflects on arrival, right down to the retrorats scratching and chittering in the refuse. He tries not to feel like a dodgy energon supplier. ("Hey, there, mech, want an ally? I can hook you up with some prime Autobots, highest grade, no trouble ...")

Predaking strides into the confined space as if it were an open plain, leaving his two companions to growl and bristle and scan everything — rubble, retrorats and Autobots alike — on his behalf. Bumblebee is surprised again, for Predaking has brought not Skylynx and Darksteel, but two much younger Predacons, whom he introduces as Razorclaw and Stormbringer. Arcee's field briefly radiates concern and caution against Bumblebee's and he responds with understanding and agreement. Inexperienced, trigger-happy emissaries do not make for smooth negotiations. And the tension in the ether skyrockets when the Predacons perceive the third member of Bumblebee's party. He couldn't leave Ultra Magnus behind; the commander has more experience liaising with allied forces than anyone but Prowl, and as CIC he won't be able to avoid working with the Predacons if this partnership goes forward. But Predaking casts one searing glance at Ultra Magnus, then ignores him, addressing himself solely to Bumblebee, while his seconds glare and posture at the red and blue mech. For his part, Ultra Magnus stands silent beside Arcee, his field reacting not at all to the Predacons' aggression, which only seems to encourage their hostility.

His team will have to tread very, very carefully, Bumblebee decides, to get out of this without a fight, much less with a compact.

But Predaking is not looking for a fight, at least not with the Autobots. His response to Bumblebee's overtures is refreshingly pragmatic and characteristically brusque. He has considered the threat posed by the Quintessons, and his conclusions are as dismal as Prowl's. Under less dire circumstances he would gladly leave his old adversaries to their fate, but for the sake of his people he must forego vengeance. "There is nothing I will not do to protect my brethren," he declares. "Rather than see them subjugated by these foul aliens, as your kind once were, I will lend you our strength." He turns to stare directly at Ultra Magnus. "In this extremity, the enemy of my enemy must needs be my ally."

Thus addressed, Ultra Magnus returns Predaking's regard silently for a moment, then takes a single, slow step forward. Razorclaw and Stormbringer tense as if to spring, and Arcee covertly grips Bumblebee's arm to prevent him from deploying his stingers. "There is no recompense I can offer for the deaths of your brethren on Earth," Ultra Magnus says, his voice level, and Bumblebee wonders if Predaking can hear the pain in it. "Not even my own life, which is sworn to the service of Cybertron. But know that I shall not cease to fight the Quintessons until every inhabitant of this planet, Autobot or Predacon, is free of them." The claw-like servo which no one can persuade him to replace touches the armor over his spark chamber. "This I vow, by the Allspark and my own."

Predaking considers him keenly. "It is offensive to Primus," he says at length, "to promise what you cannot perform."

To the obvious astonishment of his companions, his tone makes the statement a warning, not an insult, and Ultra Magnus takes it as such. "My capability the event will prove," he replies matter-of-factly, then turns to draw Bumblebee into the conversation. "If I may?"

Once more Bumblebee finds himself on the receiving end of the Predacon leader's fiery gaze, only this time he has no stick to bluff with. He tries, instead, to meet that spark-searching look with one of his own. Cybertron needs this alliance, not just now, but for the future. Having barely recovered from one civil war, the planet is unlikely to survive a second. From that perspective, the Quintessons might as well be Primus-sent, forcing Autobots and Predacons to combine against a common foe, to earn one another's respect and perhaps, in time, friendship. That the Well is sparking new lives of both races is proof enough for Bumblebee that they're meant to live together in peace. Somehow, sometime, they must learn not merely to share Cybertron, but to unite in sustaining and safeguarding it.

That time is now.

He's never sure whether Predaking sees the determination in his optics — only that after a pause rife with possibilities they both nod to Ultra Magnus, who inclines his helm respectfully in return. Then he raises his left wrist to project a compact holographic display of the current military situation and delivers a full strategic briefing with his usual aplomb, as if his auditors were the command staff of the old Elite Guard rather than three Predacon warriors (two of them still snarling quietly at him) and two Autobot scouts.

Arcee removes her servo from Bumblebee's arm and comms him on a private frequency. Good work.

Behind his battlemask, Bumblebee smiles wryly. It's a start, he replies.

Author's Note: This story was written to explain the last line of chapter 27 of Excelsior: A Sequence. It seemed obvious to me that only by combining with the Predacons could the Autobots successfully resist the Quintessan invasion, but surely they would have had to address the terrible history between Predaking and Team Prime before such an alliance could be constructed.