Scourge. *and if he doesn't remember that tone of command/love/die-for-me, then there's no hope for the poor alternate* Nobody's going to die here except Void and his twisted slaves! And no Decepticon under my command gives up his wings to anyone!

*runs his fingers down the torn wound on Scourge's back, his energy sparking and burning on the spilled energon and oil - it hurts, but it's a clean pain, almost cleansing*

Trust me.