Chapter Text
Despite the tension the Emberstone brought, Starscream could not devote all of his scientific effort to it. After a great deal of scrounging, he finally had the supplies to restart the energeon project. He spent all of his free time—of which there wasn't much—in his lab, alternating between fuel experiments and the Emberstone.
He sighed as another set of tests came back unsuccessful. How had he managed to survive on this slag when it refused to be made safely drinkable?
His comm pinged. He ignored the message. Whenever he finished with this, he would look at it—along with the thirty others. It pinged again. And again.
He set up another set of tests. As they came back with undesirable results, his comm pinged again. He hissed in irritation. What could possibly be so important? He opened the message.
[Hey, Screamer! Just wanted to check in—] Dismissed.
[You missed movie night. We will be having another tonight. If you want to come—] Dismissed.
[Skywarp said that—] Dismissed.
[I was wondering if—] Dismissed.
Dismissed, dismissed, dismissed! Nothing important! Why did they insist on contacting him for the most inane things?
Starscream jumped as a knock echoed through the room. He sighed, forcing his wings down, and called out, "Who is it?"
Soundwave opened the door a crack.
"Energeon," he said.
Starscream sighed and checked his fuel levels. They came back low. Why hadn't his systems sent him a notification?
"Leave it on the table," Starscream said.
Soundwave shook his head. "Starscream—must drink."
"I'm busy," Starscream said, turning back toward his tests.
Soundwave stepped closer.
"Starscream—must drink," he repeated.
"Frag off," Starscream muttered.
A moment of silence.
Starscream had a lot to do. He couldn't waste his time on trivial things.
"Fragging off," Soundwave said.
The door clicked shut behind him.
Starscream returned to his experiments, cube left alone until he finished for the day, or until he could no longer hold his instruments properly due to fuel depletion—whichever came first. The room was quieter than he would have liked, its vast emptiness highlighted by the silence.
☆☆☆
He had run out of the human vehicle fuel, of all things! It was easier to procure than energeon, but not without risk. He narrowed down the fuels the humans used to the handful of types that were most likely to work, which made things more difficult, since he couldn't just rip a fuel tank out of any vehicle and call his supplies replenished. The true issue was doing it without detection.
Starscream flew over a human settlement, searching for a sufficiently isolated area. Although fueling stations held more resources, it was easier to steal from individual vehicles. There was only so much he could carry on his own, especially without being noticed.
Soon, he found an isolated vehicle and gently tore its tank out. After a brief check of his surroundings, he prepared to take off. He froze as his audials picked up a noise.
Red shone through the trees.
"Doing this again, are we?"
Megatron's voice echoed through the area. If not for his optics, it would've been difficult to pinpoint him in the dim light.
"Leave me alone," Starscream hissed. "How did you even find me?"
Megatron stepped out of the shadows, his silhouette slowly fading into a fully featured mech as he came closer.
"Call it intuition," Megatron said. "I've known you for a very long time. There is little you can do to surprise me."
Starscream backed away, flaring his wings in warning. "That doesn't tell me anything!"
Megatron moved forward despite the warnings. His pedes thudded against the ground, plating clinking as it shifted. Something hit the back of Starscream's wings and he fought back a squawk of alarm. The moment of distraction was all Megatron needed to pin him, pushing a hand against Starscream's neck.
"What are you planning?" Megatron growled.
"I'm continuing my research," Starscream said, fingers jammed beneath Megatron's as he attempted to pry the hand away. "That's it."
Megatron sneered. "There's always something more with you. Don't lie to me."
Starscream kicked pointlessly at Megatron, unable to free himself. He would've sunk his claws into the brute's plating if he didn't already know it was futile.
"Have you ever considered that I'm tired?" Starscream said. "I accomplished nothing in the time I spent attempting to overthrow you! You overthrew yourself! I don't want to fight anymore. Let me and my mecha live in peace."
"Your mecha," Megatron said. "As if you didn't steal them from me!"
His grip tightened around Starscream's neck, pushing against his vocalizer. It glitched as Starscream spoke, filling his words with static.
"You abandoned them. They came will—willingly."
Megatron's grip tightened further. He bared his dentae with a growl. Then, he sighed, his grip loosening only slightly.
"They used to be so loyal," Megatron said. "You used to be so loyal."
Starscream closed his optics.
"I had noth—nothing when you found me. You gave me hope."
Megatron chuckled bitterly. "Yes. I remember finding you. I could barely tell you apart from a pile of scrap. My fallen star."
Starscream jolted at the nickname, prompting Megatron to tighten his grip again. He hadn't heard it in so long. Now, he could see the mocking cruelty in it. He had never left the atmosphere—his frame wasn't equipped for it. His attempt to reach space had been the desperate final resort of a grieving mech who didn't care whether he lived or died.
"I—I had nothing," Starscream repeated.
"And I gave you everything," Megatron said. "You threw it all right back in my face like the ungrateful creature you are."
He said it as if Starscream were a pet, or a servant. Anger bubbled up inside Starscream, burning his fuel lines.
"You hurt me!" Starscream yelled. "You ignored me, belittled me, and refused to treat me as an equal! What was I supposed to do?"
Megatron leaned close, optics burning. "Listen, like a good mech."
"Why should I listen to someone who never listened to me?" Starscream spat.
"You were never owed respect, Starscream. I was your leader. You were obligated to listen, and every time I gave an order, you refused."
Starscream shoved at the hands holding him down, struggle renewed as fury burned hotter within his body.
"That's it, isn't it!" Starscream yelled. "You wanted a good little drone, didn't you? A perfect servant? Your own eye in the sky to rival the council's?"
Megatron drew backward. "I never—"
"You could've fooled me! Barking orders at me like you owned me, talking about how I'm not owed respect, or freedom, or… or dignity! That I'm just some wild animal you need to tame!"
Megatron's grip tightened, metal denting beneath it. He growled leaning impossibly close, and then—
Starscream's body hit the ground, elbows slamming into the earth.
"Go," Megatron said.
Starscream scrambled to his feet. Megatron turned around, picking up the fuel tank Starscream had dropped and flinging it toward him.
What?
"Go," Megatron repeated.
Starscream took off, stopping midway to check the damage. The flexible plating of his neck was misaligned, and he was dented in various places. His spark pounded in his chest as entire frame shook.
He sank his dentae into one of the arm guards.
He planned to return without being noticed, but he couldn't come back like this. That wasn't even accounting for the injuries, which wouldn't be ignored, however minor they were. He hadn't told anyone where he went.
And…
Why had Megatron let him go? Surely, the brute hadn't suddenly grown a conscience after all this time? Starscream checked his plating for trackers, but found nothing. Why?
Was Megatron sick of it, too?
After straightening himself out the best he could, Starscream headed back to the base. He snuck in through a rarely-used side tunnel, placed the tank in his lab, and braced himself as he exited it. There was little he could say to avert suspicion. Starscream, stubborn as he was, knew doom when he saw it.
"Screamer!"
Starscream did not jump, nor did he squeal. He did not.
Skywarp leaned toward him, brow furrowed. "I swear I already checked over here, but whatever. You're coming with me. Right now."
She grabbed his arm. Starscream jerked away.
"Where?" Starscream asked.
"Movie night! You're not missing this one, not after you missed the last… few…" Her fingers ran over one of the dents on Starscream's arm. Her optics traced them, landing on the bent plating of his neck. She glared at him. "What did you do?"
"I was getting supplies for an experiment—"
"Alone," Skywarp said.
"Yes," Starscream said. "Alone. I thought I had avoided detection, but I misjudged how close the Autobots were to my location. One of them found me."
"We're going to the medbay. Right now."
The medbay was a tiny room barely isolated from the others, and his injuries weren't serious, but any protests died in Starscream's vocalizer as Skywarp silenced him with another glare.
☆☆☆
Starscream shaved another shard off the Emberstone. Another set of tests, another type of energy to run through it—likely another failure. He knew the way it functioned. Shockwave had told him when he helped in the lab. The scientist—faceless and with a processor so thoroughly lobotomized that he barely felt any emotion—offered an explanation drier than in any textbook.
It boiled down to this: a fraction of a spark could not exist on its own. It would fizzle out without a body to support it. Newly forged sparks were supported by the cityformers and planetformers that spawned them, which was why they didn't disappear before they had bodies. When captured to create warframes, sparks were kept in specially designed containers that bounced their energy back into them, preventing them from fading out.
Typically sized mecha did not have the energy within their sparks to create an entire new one. Any that attempted on their own died. But, with a medium that replaced the missing components, a sliver of spark energy could be magnified. No one had managed to invent a fully artificial spark. From the way Shockwave explained it, they never would.
Starscream hissed as the blade slipped, cutting his finger. Energeon dripped lazily onto the table as he sighed.
The process of splitting a spark was not without risk. Many feared that the sparks would lose their energy after so much use. Attempts were made to use other drones to create more, but not a single newspark survived. Several of the drones themselves died in the process. It was yet another reason drones were not considered mecha.
Shockwave was not a drone, despite his lack of a face. He spent his life before joining the Decepticons constructing drone frames and forming drone sparks. Lobotomized criminals like him were expendable, so there was no worry about his spark becoming 'used up.'
Starscream ran the Emberstone shard through the conductor. Sparks flew off of it, but not the correct kind. Another dud.
Starscream barely knew Shockwave. In return, Shockwave barely knew him. Shockwave's liberation was an afterthought—just a byproduct of freeing the drones. He was a cold guiding hand with a familiar optic. Starscream knew where he had seen it before, because that was the precise reason that plant was freed first.
Starscream's real mentor in the realm of science was long dead. To think his name was to recall his own near death, crashing down to Cybertron's surface after failing to ascend. The planet's atmosphere proved too strong a contender. Thundercracker had scolded him, after he'd explained everything—first for disappearing without warning, second for nearly killing himself.
His model wasn't meant to leave the planet, and he'd known this since he first onlined. It didn't stop him from dreaming.
Starscream chuckled bitterly to himself. He had always wanted to see another planet, and now here he was, stranded on one. Cybertron was a distant memory.
Sometimes, he wished he was back there again. Flying over the city, sneaking past his limits to watch wild mechanimals, finding excuses for extra free time so he could secretly work in the labs—he missed it all. Everything was so much simpler, even if he'd had to steal and deceive for every scrap of individuality.
Starscream sighed, staring at his arms. The dents had already been fixed. The metal was tender, but not painful.
When he'd fallen from the sky, Megatron had found him. He offered Starscream freedom—the ability to make his own choices, and to be equal with others. He was kind, though inconsiderate at times (Starscream could never quite get him to stop manhandling him). He was a strong mech that commanded respect despite his status in society, and refused to stay in his place.
Starscream admired that, until he saw how little the mech knew about flight. Why did he recruit so many flight frames when he didn't know anything about them? Starscream attempted to fill the dearth with his own study and determination, but Megatron had never wanted to listen.
Starscream noted the set of results with a sigh. Since those were—as expected—a bust, it was time for the fuel tests. As he brought out the new set of filters, he received a message. He was fully prepared to ignore it like the others until he saw the sender—Dirge.
[A mech sleeps within the ice. He has no symbol on him. What do you wish us to do?]
A factionless mech? Here, of all places? Why?
[He isn't online, is he?] Starscream sent.
[No spark to speak of.]
A factionless frame, then. Still…
[Bring it back,] Starscream sent. [I'll investigate.]
There was only one reason a factionless mech would be here—a pre-war expedition. But what kind? And why hadn't they been found before? There should have been an investigation for any mech that failed to return at their allotted time. Something was missing.
Starscream waited patiently for Dirge and his group to return. Any mecha claiming otherwise were greatly exaggerating. They brought the frame covered in drapes, as was customary. Starscream nearly startled at the sight. It had been so long since they'd given a proper funeral—or even bothered to dispose of their dead—that he had forgotten about the tradition.
It took four mecha to carry the frame. Whoever they had been, they were large. Based on the timing, they were either a very old forged mech or a larger class of warframe.
Starscream made his way to Dirge, who was supporting one of the shoulders.
"Put him in my lab," Starscream said.
Dirge nodded.
The trek to the lab was short, and any mecha along the way scurried away after noticing the drapes. It was rude—to some, sacrilege—to interrupt funerary proceedings. But this was not yet a funeral, Starscream reminded himself as they passed through the doorway.
Starscream motioned to a spot on the floor. "Place him here. I don't have any tables large enough."
Dirge and his group followed the command. As they placed the frame down, Starscream caught a flash of red and blue. The red, if accounting for the dulling caused by death, was pale and desaturated—one not very common in recent times. The blue, on the other hand, would have resembled Starscream's own.
Starscream fought a shudder. It wasn't a rare color, though it was very specific. He watched Dirge and the others leave, then shut the door. After a moment, Starscream swiped the drape off the frame.
His spark froze. The frame that stared back at him was a flight warframe. It was heavily reformatted, as most were. Minimal weapons, a large amount of plating—there was no mistaking it. Tapping his pede, Starscream came closer to the frame. He ran a hand down its faceplate.
Unlit optics sat behind a protective visor. Starscream tapped his pede harder, the sound consuming the room. He searched for the mech's medical port, and after prying it open, made a connection.
The first thing he tried was the override to open the spark chamber. The energeon in the mech's lines had melted by now, giving the frame energy, but not enough. The plating unlocked, but it did not move. Starscream forced the chamber open.
As expected, the chamber was empty. Sparks required constant energy to be sustained. If a mech's lines froze, the spark wouldn't have received the energy it required.
There was one thing left to do. Starscream's processor rebelled at the idea, so he ran a scan instead. It came back incomplete, but of the systems it was able to assess, all were intact. This mech had not been damaged before succumbing to the cold. Death would have been painless and sudden.
Still, Starscream's spark ached. He flexed his fingers, preparing for the final task.
{Connecting…}
{Connection—authorized—}
{Downloading…}
{Download complete!}
{Loading files…}
The first file opened, and Starscream terminated the connection immediately. He pulled away from the frame, spark pounding.
"No," he whispered.
He hadn't wanted to believe it.
"No, no, no!" He hissed. "Not you."
The exact lab down to the arrangement of the drawers, Starscream holding a squirming retrorat for the first time, the day when the dehumidifier in the lab broke and everything was covered in condensation from the exotic vivariums—all of the memory files were there.
No search party was sent for Skyfire, as if council hadn't wanted him back—
It explained everything. The Council hadn't wanted him back. They knew he was sympathetic to the drones! It was a freak accident, but one they had taken full advantage of. A brilliant scientist, thrown away by the Council for getting too close to the truth!
He deserved a real funeral—one put together with care. But, as Starscream stared down at the frame, he was reluctant to let go. In the corner of the room, the Emberstone caught his optics.
"Spark energy," he muttered to himself.
It was unlikely, but not impossible.
☆☆☆
A mech's memories were stored in the processor, which was coded by the spark—but only during integration. Mecha whose processors were modified, such as those who underwent empurata (the formal term for Shockwave's lobotomy), did not suddenly recover, because the spark did not continue to code the processor. The processors placed within drones and warframes were blanks. They were immediately overwritten on integration.
If a processor already had data, would the spark still overwrite it?
The question remained in the back of Starscream's processor as Skyfire's frame sat in the lab. It occupied his thoughts as he organized raids. During movie nights, the screen was a blur as he thought of only one thing.
The Emberstone sat in his lab. The frame laid beside it. If he could—
"Hey, Screamer!"
Starscream hissed as he was poked in the side of the helm.
"Anybody in there?" Skywarp said.
Starscream slapped her hand away. She snickered as he turned toward her.
"Finally!" She said.
"What do you want?" Starscream muttered.
"We're gonna have a game night tonight," Skywarp said. "Keep up the morale, y'know? You're coming with me—right now—because you missed the last two."
Starscream sighed dramatically, rolled his optics, and followed Skywarp into the hall. She, as usual, grinned at his dramatics. But as they moved down the hall, her smile slipped. She paused in the middle of the hallway and sighed.
"You promised me you wouldn't do this again," Skywarp said.
"I'm not doing anything."
Skywarp's wings flicked. "You think that's not part of the issue?"
Starscream flexed his fingers. "What am I supposed to do, then? I have projects to work on! I can't spend every hour hanging out with you—"
"Are you avoiding us?" Skywarp said, optics staring into his. "Because it seems like you are."
"I—" Starscream wrung his fingers, his wings flattening against him. "No, I'm not… I just—I'm busy!"
Skywarp drew backward slightly. Then, she stepped in close, gently taking Starscream's hands in hers. She squeezed. Starscream squeezed back.
"What are you afraid of?" Skywarp said.
A reply meant to come out as an insistent hiss instead emerged as a quiet protest.
"I'm not afraid of anything…"
"I can feel it," Skywarp said. "I know you're scared. I just don't know what you're scared of."
Starscream squeezed Skywarp's hand again and let out a weak laugh. "You have me at a disadvantage there."
"Disadvantage?" She blinked at him, then shook her head. "You'll tell me what that means later. Stop trying to distract me. Why are you so scared?"
Starscream turned away, staring at the wall.
"This is temporary," he said. "It always is. It's all going to fall apart, and I'll be alone again, and it's going to hurt."
"What… makes you say that?"
Maybe it was when he'd led the Decepticons, only to be confronted by mutiny. Or, oh—maybe it was when he joined Megatron, joined the Decepticons, to watch his enemies burn only to be burned himself. Perhaps, it was before then, when he found joy and belonging only for the Council to snap it away! Maybe it was when he, for a brief time, was able to live his dreams, only for a wrench in the shape of Megatron to come along and tear the entire thing apart with meticulosity typically reserved for surgeons.
Nothing, and no one, was permanent—whether that was through mortality or through betrayal. Starscream would forever be forced to cling to the edge as it slipped beneath him, hurling everything he knew and cared for into the void. There was no such thing as safety, yet he found himself fooled each time.
But no more! He would never believe in the possibility again.
"What doesn't?" Starscream said, a sardonic grin spreading across his face. "Nothing has ever gone my way."
Skywarp pulled him closer, drawing a hiss out of Starscream as his arms were yanked. She glared at him, wings fanned out.
"It will now."
The words were delivered with a determined fury. Starscream chuckled, spark humming uncomfortably.
"Will it?" He said quietly.
"I'll make sure of it," Skywarp said. "I'm not letting you leave me again."
Starscream leaned away. "That sounds like a threat."
"Maybe it is, if that's what it takes to get the idea that I care about you into your processor."
Despite Starscream's protests, that was what he feared. The very idea of being cared for, emotionally, sent dread through his frame. It came in rippling waves, creeping in just when he thought it resolved.
It would've been better for his wingmates if they had never cared about him.
"Don't we have somewhere to be?" Starscream said, turning away.
Skywarp pulled him back. "Not yet. We aren't done."
"What more is there to talk about—?"
"How about that comment earlier?" Skywarp said. "Something about disadvantages?"
Starscream cursed himself for using such a subpar diversion. He attempted to pull his hands loose, but Skywarp's grip tightened. She wouldn't hurt him, he told himself. She would never hurt him. He had to believe it.
"Can you let go of me?" Starscream asked.
Skywarp tilted her head. "I will when you answer the question."
Starscream flicked his wings. She wouldn't hurt him, he told himself again.
"I can't sense EM fields," Starscream said. "I've never been able to. You can tell what I'm feeling, but I can't tell what you're feeling. That's the disadvantage."
Skywarp's olfactory ridge crinkled. "That's… interesting."
Starscream failed to pull his hands away again and tapped a pede. Skywarp finally let him go.
"Yes," he hissed, rubbing his wrists. "Interesting."
"I didn't think that was a thing," Skywarp said.
"Well, it is!" Starscream snapped. "So I'd appreciate it if you weren't so… whatever this is about it."
"'Whatever this is'," Skywarp repeated mockingly. She laughed. "That explains why using my field never worked to calm you down."
Starscream rolled his optics. "Yes, yes. A beautiful moment of realization. Can we move on now?"
Skywarp took a step down the hall.
"Sure, drama queen."