Chapter Text
Panic.
He was panicking.
Cycling his optics he dragged his claws up over his chassis. His coding screaming and his HUD filled with warnings.
He couldn’t stay, he wouldn’t. Not if he wanted to live. Not if he wanted these sparklings to survive.
Then again, why does he want them to survive? If he snuffed them out before they formed enough to move to his cockpit then there wouldn’t be a problem. He couldn’t though, his coding rearing its ugly head in a way that had the seeker’s wings trembling. The added stress of the idea caused his sensory-net to go haywire, it hurt.
His sparklings weren’t safe here. He had given this place enough chances, he couldn’t stay.
Again, his coding bit at him. It hissed and racked its talons into his spark, thrashing about like a snared turbofox. It held distaste at him for even thinking about leaving his one source of safety, his ‘trine’. Unfortunately, his trine was long dead and the two mechs that his coding was grasping on as trine members were the two most untrustworthy mechs in his life. Megatron, the sire of his little sparklings, and Soundwave.
Megatron, despite being the sire, couldn’t be trusted with a minicon, let alone a sparkling. Let alone two. Pit, Megatron would snuff out the sparklings himself.
His claws slammed down into his desk, shrieking against the metal. Primus had to be fragging with him, why can’t he ever have a peaceful moment! Why can’t slag ever go his way! Why does Megatron always ruin everything!
His code suddenly goes quiet, as though finally understanding that there was never a trine to fall back on. His coding, for once gave way to logic, and settled, now only fretting over the usual carrier protocols. He needed a safe space, a place to nest. Somewhere with food, energon, metals. One of their abandoned mines housed a scraplet nest, it would be a perfect spot for the seeker, for his sparklings.
By his calculations he had about two lunar cycles - months humans had called them - before his sparklings emerged.
Primus, things had been going so well, things had been running smoothly and then Megatron came back with that dark energon. He turned into a completely different mech. Loyalty and progress and what does he get in response? Forced into a berth and made out as shareware.
A tremor rushes through his plating at the reminder, denta grinding as his wings attempt to shake off the ghostly touches with a violent twitch.
Starscream could handle the pressure if it meant his flockmates were cared for. As much as he and Dreadwing butted heads, he cared for his flockmate, cared enough to defy Megatron and end up with the punishment that led him here. He couldn’t desecrate Skyquake like that, he refused, for the sake of Dreadwing and himself.
But now, things had changed. Megatron had changed for the worst and had pulled a move so low that even Soundwave seemed a bit repulsed. There’s only telling how much lower he would go and Starscream wasn’t going to risk his sparklings, no matter the sire, nor Dreadwing and the others for some psychotic fragger high off his aft. He was still for the Decepticon cause, but Megatron had taken that and spat on it.
With a deep intake, he cycled his vents. The silence seeping into the air helped him calm, the sound of his ventilations being the only solemn noise helped him relax. He takes a few moments to glance around his quarters, taking in everything.
He could perhaps take his insulation blanket and wrap some keepsakes in them. What would he bring..? A few datapads perhaps, most of his research was already downloaded into his systems. His optics flitter over his work space before they land on what he’s searching for and his vents stutter.
His trinemates belongings still sat neatly on his desk, untouched by time. Skywarp’s bottle of gold and oil stood eerily still, gold settled at the bottom and Thundercracker’s necklace was still tightly wrapped around it, adorned with the trine’s first lost fangs. Oh how he wished these sparklings were theirs, but they were long gone.
He cycles his optics again before digging his claws further into his desk. It was time to leave, he’d attempt to contact his flockmates later if he could. He knew Dreadwing was stationed somewhere on the opposite side of the galaxy and Ramjet’s trine was a couple hundred planetary systems away.
He tried to calculate a good portion of what to bring, wrapping up his belongings in the insulation blanket before shoving it into his subspace. He’d need a full tank before he slipped away so he’d have to scrounge a bit but he could manage that just fine.
He almost swings out of his quarters before he stops, looking at the datapad laid out on his desk. Vorns of work were buried in that little device, blueprints and battle strategies.
He steps back in, claws scraping over the screen before he gingerly lifts the device into his servos. He wouldn’t bring it with him, he had everything already downloaded of course, but that didn’t mean he should leave it.
All it took was one quick movement and the pad snapped in half, electricity sizzling from the wires as the material scattered over the floor. He wouldn’t give Megatron the satisfaction of getting rid of him and having his work. Not a chance, he nearly mutters to himself as he carefully fishes out the memory chip. It doesn’t take much effort to crush it in his servos. A declaration.
He drops it with a grimace, stomping on it for good measure before he finally leaves his habsuite. He develops a new stride, pedesteps quiet yet his back strut is straightened and his wings fanned out to demand space as he walks past a group of vehicons. He can barely keep himself from lashing out at them, fear boiling into rage that has long gone unchecked.
He manages to keep his cool, just barely.
“Herr Kommandant.” Slag. He resists the urge to drag his servo over his face. Of course it had to be Knockout.
“What do you want?” His voice comes out snippy, grating. His voice box was still very damaged from that night, he refused to let Knockout touch his throat however, much less Hook.
Knockout raises his servos and Starscream straightens himself further, glaring down at the medic. “I just came to check on our esteem benefactor.”
“Well your good graces are going to waste, I am doing just fine.” Starscream lets his wings fall into a more comfortable position, ignoring the way his spark churns in its chamber. A warning pops up on his HUD, marking Knockout a danger to his sparklings which has the seeker tense before he forces himself to relax.
“I just came to make sure, you still haven’t come to the medbay after your most recent beating… despite your obvious damage.” Knockout makes a motion towards Starscream’s throat and the seeker nearly smacks his hand.
“Despite your concerns, I am doing fine.” The seeker flicks his wings and to any other seeker it would convey his annoyance. Unfortunately, Starscream was the only Seeker currently on the Nemesis.
Knockout seems rather disbelieving as Starscream only continues on his trek, thrusters clicking against the metal. He turns his back on the medic as he continues towards the canteen. “Didn’t you already have your fill of energon?”
“I’m a seeker you imbecile, I require much more energon than you grounders. My tanks are low so I am seeking fuel, you’re being awfully nosy.” His wings tighten against his back.
“Yes well, you’re being rather prickly this morning.” Knockout begins following him, how wonderful. “If this about what happened-“
Starscream immediately whirls around, pointing a talon to the mech’s chassis. “You are to keep your intake shut, understand me?”
The grounder all but jerks upright, brushing away Starscream’s servo. “Yes yes, of course… where have my manners gone.”
Exventing in frustration, Starscream simply continues all the while pointedly ignoring Knockout’s questioning look. Their pedesteps eventually fall in sync with one another, Knockout eventually rattling on about some human movie he and Breakdown watched together. Starscream barely pays attention, his audials picking up information at the worst of moments.
The seeker does his best to stay focused but he does end up relaxing in the medic’s presence. Knockout and Breakdown were technically flockmates so of course Starscream would eventually grow comfortable from his initial stress. “And you say, the worm creatures weren’t alien lifeforms?”
“No, apparently they had been on the planet the entire time. Though they had rather strange names for the worms and their metamorphosis stages.” Knockout explains as they enter the canteen, servos gesturing as he speaks. The use of body language always calmed Starscream’s wires, it was a sweet reminder of his native dialect. “They called them Grabiods, Shriekers, and Ass Blasters… not exactly creative but what can you expect from humans.”
Starscream only offers a small hum of agreement as he snatches up two cubes on energon. It was a bit of a push, even for him, but his tanks were currently settled at little above fifty percent. The grounder doesn’t acknowledge his bold move, only watching as the seeker settles down to drink his cubes in peace.
Knockout still follows and it doesn’t take long for his conjunx - er assistant to take notice and join them. Oh who was Starscream kidding, the only person who didn’t know about the medic and stunticon was Megatron.
“You’ve been rather quiet lately, Starscream…” The seekers optics flick up to mech, latching onto Breakdown with a questioning glare. “I just mean, you haven’t tried to kick Lord Megatron out of the throne lately.”
“I’m not stupid enough to try that while he’s on the whole dark energon thing.” The seeker mutters in response, slowly finishing his first cube as Breakdown slightly grimaces at his words. “I likely won’t be making an attempt on his life for a long while so you can rest easy, Breakdown.”
Too focused on his second cube, he doesn’t notice the concerned glance the two share.
“Soooo, what’s on the agenda for today, Starscream?”
The seeker places his newly empty cup on the table, optics following his servo. “Patrol.”
“Are you not joining the meeting?” Starscream can hear the concern subtly lacing Knockout’s words.
“No.”
Before Knockout can continue speaking, the seeker raises to his pedes. Gathering his empty cups, he takes his leave taking only a moment to dispose of the empty cubes.
‘Fuel Level: 89%’
It would be good enough, Starscream decides. Now he just needed to make it to the hanger without further interruption.
That would prove to be easier than expected.
“Where is that treacherous pain in the aft?” Knockout nearly shudders at the agitation in Megatron’s voice.
Silence is the only thing that greets the Decepticon leader and his agitation quickly turns to aggression. The mech’s fist slam against the table, sending a crack along the middle. “Where is he?!”
“Lord Megatron, if I may,” the pointed glare nearly makes Knockout purge his tanks out of sheer fear, “Starscream announced to Breakdown and I earlier that he was going on patrol.”
“And how long ago was that?”
“About… a few joors ago, my liege.” Knockout backs off when the glare hardens.
Luckily, Megatron’s ire doesn’t stay on him for long. The overlord’s attention quickly flits to his third in command. “Soundwave.. please tell me you are aware of Starscream’s whereabouts. I grow weary of his games.”
The mech doesn’t respond for a few moments, likely quickly cutting together prerecorded messages. “Starscream’s signature: offline.”
“What do you mean his signature is offline?” Megatron’s voice becomes strained with anger.
“Starscream: removed or destroyed tracking device. Spark signature: no longer being read.” Comes the cut up voices in response.
For some reason, Knockout finds himself more relieved than worried.
Earth proved to be colder than he remembered it was from last month. It wasn’t horrible, manageable at the very least. Starscream just had a specific distaste for the cold, and well, it was the ‘winter’ season.
The mine itself however was rather warm and while the seeker wasn’t one for confined spaces, his carrier protocols had deactivated the claustrophobia that came with his primary coding. Still, he found himself a bit uneasy as he entered.
Scraplets shrieked in terror as he wandered down the mineshafts, the sight of the predator causing them to flee. A few scramble underneath his pedes, skittering away in little hiding spots. Despite himself, the seeker does take a second to grab one that had the unfortunate pleasure of running into his pede. It scrambles, attempting to get away by biting the seeker’s talon. Its squirming goes without reward as Starscream’s denta snaps onto its little head.
Energon gushes into his mouth and he swallows down the metals with a low rumble of his engine. He’s pleased when the metal moves smoothly into his crucible, slowly melting down as it slips through his frame. He needed to start keeping that ‘tank’ full from now on, his sparklings will be drawing from it to create their protoforms afterall.
Opening his intake, he swallows down the rest of the scraplet, thrusters carrying him further down the shaft.
Yes, this would do perfectly. Now all he had to do was fill his tanks, thank Primus for the little snacks running around.
“Get off my legs!”
“Well it would help if you weren’t taking up the entire couch!”
Beeping catches their attention, the mech’s annoyance obvious through his chirps alone. The two humans only huff, glaring at each other as Raf just laughs at their continuous head butting.
“I always find it funny when Bee scolds you two.” He grins, looking up from his homework.
Miko huffs and crosses her arms, taking the notion to nudge Jack with her foot. The older boy glares at her, shoving her legs aside so he can sit comfortably. As they scuffle, Bee moves over to gently set a new pack of pens by Raf’s backpack as he settles comfortably.
The bot and human take up in their own conversation as Miko and Jack are soon distracted by their own devices, the new pedesteps in the room going unnoticed.
Optimus watches the four with a fond aspiration, vents cycling as he moves to join Ratchet at the center computer. “Ratchet, did young Smokescreen and Arcee find anything interesting on their patrol?”
The medic barely suppresses an exasperated sigh, “Nothing out of the ordinary, Smokescreen said he spotted a plane flying rather low while near one of the energon mines but that specific mine is near one of Fowler’s bases, I assume it was just a training drill.”
The Prime gives a slow nod, moving a tad bit closer. He allows his battle mask to slip apart so he can press a small kiss to the side of his helm. Ratchet scoffs quietly at the affection but, despite that, he just barely leans against Optimus’ side.
“Ewww, the old men are flirting again!”
“Miko, be quiet.” Jack snips.
“Will you brats shut it!” Ratchet hisses, plating fluffing out defensively and Optimus can barely hold back the chuckle forming in his voice box. Bee gives a small chirp which can easily be taken as a laugh. Ratchet again, found himself pleased with the fact that most of their group was out of the base.
The giggles don’t go unnoticed of course, but he’s settled by Optimus’ hand resting on his shoulder plate. The peace was at least welcomed, a nice calm to their usual chaos.
‘Incoming communications: Agent Fowler’
Frag, there goes the peace.
Optimus is kind enough to allow the transmission to go through and immediately the entire base is met with Fowler’s rather angry expression. “Prime!”
The jump Optimus gives is amusing to say the least, to Ratchet that is. “Yes Agent Fowler?”
“One of those Decepti-creeps ate one of my damn planes!”
Well that certainly gathers the other’s attention. Bee lifts his head to look at the screen and Miko and Jack quickly jump off the sofa to further investigate.
“My apologies, Agent Fowler, I don’t believe I heard you correctly… you’re saying a Decepticon ate one of your jets?”
“Yes! They snuck in one of the hangers last night and then ate one of my planes!” The man seemed furious, Ratchet doesn’t blame him. “That’s seventy million dollars, Prime! Do I need to send you the footage?”
Optimus seems to pause before slowly nodding, “I.. Yes, the footage would give us details as to who we’re dealing with.”
It doesn’t take long for another incoming transmission to pop up, seems Fowler had it ready to go. Ratchet is the one that starts the video feed.
It’s late by the sight of the low light in the feed, two F-16s slowly being piloted into their hangar. There's no denying the fact they’re being humanly piloted either and there’s only one Decepticon on Earth that takes the form of that specific fighter jet.
The group watches as the humans exit the jets, high fiving each other as they move to leave the hangar. A few jorns are skipped over, night vision on the camera activating. Patience, something not most Decepticons had.
Then the sound of a T-cog whirrs, slow and hesitant the mech in the video transforms and Ratchet can say he was right in his assumption. It’s an uncomfortable fit for the seeker, having to bend his head down to fit in the hangar but he doesn’t seem the slightest bit bothered. No, he’s much too focused on his objective.
The seeker’s talons grab onto the jet that came in with him, scoring the metal as he leans down and bites hold onto one of the wings. The crunch of metal is poorly picked up by the camera’s audio systems but it’s easy to understand what’s happening when the seeker jerks his head back to swallow down the mouthful. The process repeats, and repeats until nearly half the wing is missing.
Then the seeker goes for the cockpit, shattering the glass before he actively moves to grab and swallow the shards like energon candy. It’s an uncomfortable sight to watch and even the humans at their pedes give a concerned look.
Then the seeker goes for the oil tanks, gouging them open like a wild Earth animal before eagerly gulping down the liquid like it’s life sustaining. He goes for every liquid tank in fact, hydrazine included, and after a few moments the seeker purges a disgusting glob of sludge, impurities. The sound of his voice box makes Ratchet cringe, it had obviously taken more damage since the last time he came in contact with the Decepticon. Though, the damage didn’t seem to stop the seeker from continuously devouring and destroying the jet.
The silence is broken by Bee’s worried chirps and beeps which is hastily translated by Raf to the other humans. “Um… Bee is wondering what’s happening and why Starscream is eating the jet?”
“I would like to know the same thing,” Fowler groans from the other side of the screen. Optimus tries to search his processor for answers but when he can’t find one he looks to Ratchet.
The medic has no idea why but there’s only one possible reason the seeker could be seeking out metals and other substances. “He might have a nasty internal injury, if that’s the case his nanites might not have the materials to repair him which lead him to this.” He makes a gesture towards the video feed. “It’s the only conclusion I think possible, but I’m not sure what kind of injury would require so much metal, he looks entirely intact to me.” And filthy, but Ratchet doesn’t add that. Though, he finds it odd that the seeker isn’t actively keeping up his appearance.
“That would perhaps explain the four year absence.” Optimus offers and Ratchet grimaces, nodding. “Agent Fowler, did you manage to see which direction Starscream went when he left the facility.”
“He was heading towards that old energon mine, the one with the uh.. scraplet nest.” Bee makes a sad noise at that. Even Optimus seemed concerned about that.
“What would he want with a scraplet nest?” Raf mutters.
“I bet you he’s a masochistic, probably likes them biting on him.” Miko whispers.
“I highly doubt that.” Jack responds, Bee chirping in agreement. After all no sane mech would willingly walk into a scraplet nest.
“Enough.” Ratchet snips, pointing a digit towards Bee and the humans. “If Starscream is injured and he hasn’t returned to the Nemesis then we need to offer him proper medical attention.”
“And by offering you mean forcing him?” Raf questions in a small mumble.
“Precisely.”