Title: Taking Over
Summary: Armada. After Megatron uses Starscream as an experiment, the seeker escapes to Earth and makes a deal with Optimus. Soon SS realizes that his new body is empowering and killing him at the same time, even as he searches for a cure.
Author's Note: This is one of the few ideas I've had for Transformers in a long time, and probably either the last or one of the last. I wanted it to be something really nice, and I've already mapped out most of the story, so I know in the end it will be something really beautiful. But, for now, it is quite morbid.
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. (sad face)
Chapter 1: Tourniquet
Starscream felt a chill run down his spinal cords.
Something was wrong at this base. Where the frag was everyone? Muttering to himself, Starscream attempted to not be bothered by the fact. It's not like he didn't often stay away from everyone when he worked on his projects—so why did he feel like something bad was going to happen?
For the past three months in human Earth time, Starscream had been hard at work with a new Gatling gun for his oh-so-glorious Decepticon Leader (whose diligent request had been made with an accompanying, gentle reminder that if he didn't complete it and on time, his head would be neatly torn off). For some strange reason, Megatron would conveniently forget his second-in-command could even build such things until he actually needed something to built-for that period of time, he would let Starscream alone. Although the seeker was excluded from missions and would continue to be postponed from getting his own Mini-Con, at least he could have some peace for a period of time. Today, though, seemed different from the others...and then he'd felt the wash of sensation down his back. It almost made his tanks churn in an uneasiness.
For his own benefit, the crimson seeker attempted to relate back to his work, placing his attention on every detail, from the muzzles, to the smooth barrels, to the trigger, to the ejection port. As much as Starscream hated producing something so flawless for someone so undeserving, he couldn't help but put all his effort into it—after all, Starscream knew that, beneath it all, he was an inventor. Had it not been for the war, the seeker would've attended the Academy college based in Iacon and would've been world-renowned. There were so many inventions he wanted to design, so many machines he could've made more efficient.
A dream he thought of often, Starscream also knew it was highly unlikely that anyone was attempting to receive higher education at this point (if the Academy was still even in one piece). Not when they had to consider how to survive the next week. Starscream liked to think that if he was Decepticon Leader, he put the Academy under the Decepticon name, give them funding, and be responsible for some of the finest scientists Cybertron would ever see. Maybe, just maybe, they could even return Cybertron to its once-glorious standing, a powerhouse of a planet and Transformers as a species. Maybe this war would grow unnecessary and he could return to what was really important. At the same time, he knew it was all too far out of his grasp. More than likely, the wretched war would go on forever until Prime and Megatron were the only ones left standing-two heads who were only connected to their sparks by wires as they continued to bite at each other. With that in mind, it was probably easier with the leaders of both factions at a far distance from their weak planet—Megatron even knew that he was on the receiving end back home. Things were not looking bright, and as per usual, he was putting greater pressure on the battalions back home when he knew they couldn't take much more.
Either way, the Decepticons were facing defeat, and Starscream had a feeling that Megatron was growing desperate.
"Starscream."
Slowly, the lieutenant turned to face his industrious superintendent, whose hard scowl did not bode well. Starscream rose from his seated position, while asking, "Yes, Lord Megatron?"
"Come with me. I need your expertise on something," murmured the other, his crimson orbs dark, the way he usually looked when he approached his second-in-command when things were quiet at the base. The statement itself was enough to shake Starscream to his very core. Megatron never wanted his "expertise" on something. Something was definitely going to go wrong today.
"What is it?" wondered Starscream, not moving from his position.
"I'm not asking again, let's go," said the Decepticon, steadily, as though he were talking to a sparkling.
With some reserve, the seeker still had an urge to simply refuse and stand his position, but he also knew that if Megatron was lying, Starscream was going to end up being there no matter what, whether willingly or not.
Might as well have energy to escape if need be, muttered the flier to himself, wandering behind the larger with defensive optics. Why did he feel the need to think those thoughts? Since Megatron punched him in the face one too many times. Maybe he should just escape.
"Hook arrived yesterday," started Megatron, not turning to face the other as he walked along, "late last orn. He's come with a new idea that could quickly turn the tables against Optimus and his feral soldiers. I wanted to see what you thought of it."
"What is it?" repeated Starscream, his insides turning at the thought of Hook. The scientist was also a doctor, excellent in both practices, flawless in his work. At the price of his genius, however, was the accompanying sense of madness that the Decepticon always exhibited. He was considered to be one of Megatron's closest advisers, and the seeker knew exactly why: the two thought practically the same, although the leader was simply better as displaying a "normal" façade.
The biggest difference between the two was the fact that Megatron showed his savagery on the battle, like most Decepticons, but Hook was worse…as a doctor, he could change one's thoughts, turn them into something they weren't…Starscream unfortunately had seen too many results for his liking; although he, too, was a Decepticon, he understood that each Transformer had their specific tactic, something that they exceeded in. While Starscream tried to advance that one tribute, Hook attempted to overcharge them with everything—making them super soldiers, but at the same time sacrificing something in return. Most of the time it was their sanity. Starscream wouldn't care less if it wasn't for the fact his methods were so inefficient; they were good for a few orns, then they began to either turn on each other or simply self destruct.
"You'll see," Megatron responded, offering Starscream a gaze that he found incredibly unsettling. Turning from him, the tank punched in the code numbers to the sealed medical bay, which Starscream then felt the enormous urge to leave. He didn't want to see another experiment. He was sick of seeing the madness.
With a swish, the door opened, only to reveal Hook by himself, head down as he muttered to himself and punched away on a datapad. Starscream mentally sighed with relief, then become confused. There wasn't anything here to look at. On the datapad, perhaps?
Hook glanced up quickly, crimson orbs staring hard at the two. With a huff, he stated, "He's not supposed to be awake, remember?"
"I just didn't want anyone to see us and grow suspicious," muttered Megatron, before turning to Starscream. "You're the experiment."
Starscream could only gasp before something hard collided with the back of his helm, throwing him into a world of darkness.
Wake up.
It burns…!
You have to wake up, Starscream.
My chest…it feels like it's splitting apart!
Wake up!
White, hot light seared through Starscream's vision as he slowly brought to his optics online, the intensity momentarily blinding him as he regained consciousness. With a blink, the seeker painfully turned his head to inspect his surroundings, memories returning to him in a rush. Hook. Megatron. Everything hurt. His processor, his spark, like a million searing needles were stabbing into his armor. As his vision finally adjusted, colors and shapes sharpened. He was in a lab of some sort, the room otherwise darkened besides the bright lights above him. Computers surrounded him with veering lights and pulses, the pain from their noise making Starscream offer a soft groan.
Turning to the left, Starscream gasped upon seeing a gathering of Mini-Cons were on a surgical table across from him, all deactivated, pink energon dripping from their fingertips and the edge of the silver table. Their small bodies seemed to have been dumped there, like metal scraps. The seeker's orbs widened in shock at the horrific sight, the image overly processed in his mind, even as he turned back to look down upon his body.
Starscream's spark jumped in its casing. Metal tubes lined up and down his frame, his armor open and his dark skeleton beneath vulnerable. Needles stood out from his insides, some injecting fluids and others removing them. The most terrifying thing he'd ever seen in the long time he'd lived were the wires and other things intruding his chest, the subtle glow from his spark pulsing. He was open, vulnerable, taken apart. Whatever drugs were coursing through his veins were keeping his emotions from getting out of hand-had he seen that and was sober...he would...
Groaning, Starscream's head fell back against the bed, the seeker attempting to feel his limbs.
You have to escape.
Who are you supposed to be?
The voices inside his helm didn't bother to answer, but the seeker knew that "they" were right. Starscream clenched his teeth as he seethed over the treachery Megatron just bared, the burning in his tanks and his veins more than from just the physical agony. Like fire, his rage seared through his spark, the machines beside him buzzing and beeping to life. So this is what his second-in-command was worth? A slagging test subject? He realized, now, what he truly meant to his leader. Nothing but an expense.
Starscream allowed the sense of betrayal and hate to flow through him, offering him the strength to pull himself into a sitting position. Growling, the seeker snatched the tubes from his body and tore them out, purple fluid gushing from their circular endings as he tossed them to the floor. Wires snapped away from him as the furious Decepticon shoved over the computers and flung them aside.
At that moment, Hook appeared through the door, oblivious to the happenings before Starscream rushed up to him, snatching the insane scientist's face and smashing it into the wall, immediately knocking the other out. With a soft growl, the seeker proceeded through the doorway, shutting his spark casing and armor closed as he gimped down the hall, dragging himself out of the base and off this fragging moon before his energy reserves went out.
Through the wall.
Lowering his shoulder, the Decepticon surged toward the metal barrier, bursting out through the other side quite effortlessly. Pain and anguish surrounded him, and seemed to give him the strength to escape. To the seeker's surprise, Cyclonus was waiting for him, already setting up for an attack. Starscream clenched his teeth, diving towards the other even before he could finish lifting his arm to fire. For some reason, everyone seemed to be moving so slow…
Either that, or he was moving incredibly fast.
Taking the helicopter's helm, Starscream slammed it into his knee and grappled his arm, tearing the limb away from his body with one motion. Wires and fluids burst from the appendage, splattering against the seeker's frame, and Cyclonus screeched from the shock. Tossing the annoying mech aside, Starscream started running, grateful for the lack of gravity to aid him into flight. Gun shots seared past him, the seeker releasing a note of surprise as he dodged the offending attack.
Firing his thrusters, Starscream leaped from the dusty white ground, the Decepticons below still attempting to thwart the crimson one's escape; like before, however, the shots seemed to be going so slow that he could easily evade them. Starscream thanked Primus for his luck as he blasted away and towards Earth's surface, the tug of gravity drawing him towards the organic globe.
Unfortunately, Starscream realized as his decent begun through Earth's burning atmosphere, that was the easy part.
Optimus Prime loved the forest.
Organic life to him was fascinating—even more, he enjoyed the structure of nature and its biological results…from the colors, to the smells, to the endless details. And, when it came to the forest, it was the ultimate result of the simplest life forms developing over billions of years to create some of the most monumental developments. It was far more beautiful than anything he'd ever seen at home; or even had a chance to before the war began.
Indeed the mechanical revenues of Cybertron were something to behold as well, but nothing was quite as bountiful as organics. Perhaps it was the fact that it was so quick and capable of mixing, resulting with something new. Each and every day there was something different, more to learn and question, which would be an endless study. Prime took so much pleasure in these small details that he knew putting Autobots' new base in the middle of the Amazon was the right thing to do.
"You never cease to surprise me, boss," muttered Jetfire, tapping away on the coordinator monitor in his large hands. "For being sentimental Autobots, I have to admit, you are definitely the most sentimental."
"Don't tell me that you don't love this planet, too, you tree-hugger," shouted Hot Shot from a distance, attempting to find his way around the enormous vegetation. "How are we going to put a base in the middle of all this stuffy trees and crap?"
"We're putting it underground, of course," responded Optimus, ensuring to be extra careful not to put too much damage to the surrounding area. He wanted it deep underground, too, at least sixty feet. Under a certain depth, the temperature of the planet remained constant, which would in turn save energy, and would deflect any Decepticon surveillance. "It's safer for our equipment, the Mini-Cons and the children as well. We can place wind turbines just on the cliff north of here."
Hotshot smirked. "They'll probably work better if you strap Jetfire to it, turn on his boosters and just let him go round and round!"
"Hey! At least I have boosters! You're so full of hot air it all just comes out your mouth!" Jetfire growled, pointing an offending figure at the other.
Immediately the two began bickering, Optimus happily ignoring the pair's heated insult debate as he approached Red Alert. "Well, what do you think?"
"I found something," muttered the medic, offering his superior the data pad, "back at the base. There's a signature…from a Transformer."
"Can you specify which faction?" asked the commander, quickly taking the pad and immediately noticing the soft hue a few miles out from their headquarters.
"I'm pretty certain it's Decepticon, but I can't be totally sure with this distance," said the other lowly, calmly, as he always did. "What I think is interesting is the fact that he or she is by their self."
"That is interesting," mumbled Optimus as communicated with one of the human satellite's over the area to see if he could get a picture of their subject. The hack successfully went through, as it usually did, and Prime zoomed in as much as he could before his optic bridges lifted with surprise at the revealed subject. Red Alert was just as taken back, the two glancing at each to seek answers from the other.
"Well, might as go see what he wants."
Starscream's chest echoed with pain, the seeker settling in a near grove to gather himself and to try to relieve some of the tension in his cavity. Since the fight ended on the moon and the Decepticon had escaped, the swelling returned to his torso, making him nauseous as he slowly wandered closer to the Autobot base. Each step seemed to make it worse: the hurt spread through his entire midsection and grew in force the more he exerted himself. It'd grown to the point where he was beginning to quake, and he knew something was clearly wrong.
What have you done to me, Hook?
Coughing, Starscream steadied himself on a tree nearby, looking forward to when he could distract himself with those Autobots. An idea came to him, then, and the seeker searched around him for a decent-sized boulder and picking it up.
I guess I won't be calling myself 'Decepticon' anymore.
Taking the rock, he reached over to scratch the insignia from his wing, wincing in pain as it ran over the sensitive surface. With a soft growl, he dug in, making energon tears swell in the corner of his optics, a burst of agony erupting through his wing. Snarling, he tossed the boulder away from him, crashing it into a tree and snapping it in half. With a swallow, the temperamental seeker bent over and crossed his arms over his stomach, frustrated and in despair at the same time.
What if the Autobots didn't accept him? He knew what he would do; what he would become. A thief, like a filthy animal as he scrounged to find sources for energon and attempted to figure out a way to get back at Megatron for what he'd done. He would pick those fools off one by one; each in their own disgusting ways. He would take off their own fragging limbs and beat them with them if he had to. Whatever it took to take them down—he would do it.
Even if he became something he hated.
Starscream stood at the sound of voices and the rustling of vegetation to his left, his frame tensing and he looked to a fight. White came through first, Jetfire announcing himself as he stepped through the brush: "Well, look what we have here. And what brings you to this lovely forest, Starscream?"
"Decepticons don't need reasons to do stupid crap," came the second, Hot Shot, as he shoved his way through. Boisterous as always.
Optimus Prime and Red Alert came last, silently making their way through as the Autobot leader's optics calmly fell upon the seeker. Unbiased and unwavering, as usual. Prime didn't hold one prejudicial circuit in his frame. At first, it made Starscream sick that a leader could behave so "benevolently" in a time of war, but he guessed he should be thanking Primus that Optimus wasn't as cold sparked as he could—or should—be.
"Starscream," murmured the commander softly, approaching the Decepticon ahead of the others.
"Nice to see you, too, Prime," muttered Starscream, surprised at the tone of his own voice. It was scratchy, weak, like his voice box had become infected. No doubt it was the lack of energon in his system and whatever Hook had performed on him to put him in this condition.
"Indeed," returned the larger, glancing at the seeker up and down, taking in each detail. "You don't look so well."
"I need to talk to you," murmured the Decepticon as he glanced away, no way able to look at Prime with pride and say that.
"'Talk'? That's cute coming from you guys," laughed Hot Shot as he rolled in optics in exasperation. "I'll need to see that to believe it."
Starscream held his tongue before snipping at the younger, fully understanding why he said such a thing. Starscream wouldn't believe himself if he were in the same stance-but he was crumbling, he could feel it. At any moment, he knew he would collapse from the tightening sensation in his chest, and from the insane amount of nausea that had erupted in his tanks. His head was spinning, making the Decepticon hold onto a nearby tree for support. Something was definitely not right…
"Go ahead and talk, I'm listening," said Prime softly, although he were talking to a youngling.
"I meant alone. One to one," growled Starscream, not interested in humiliating himself anymore than was necessary—especially in front of Hot Shot. He would certainly blow it out of proportion and the seeker definitely didn't need Megatron hearing about anything quite yet.
With a sigh, Optimus proceeded forward, to the surprise of his fellow soldiers, and Starscream gimped towards a thicker portion of the woods where they'd be better concealed. Meanwhile, the sickly sensation was growing and the seeker had to fight the his emergency protocol to succumb to a deep, intense recharge.
Hopefully Optimus is in a generous mood today.
"Are you injured?" was Prime's first question, examining his weak leg to search for a wound.
"I'm not entirely sure," muttered Starscream and he decided he was far enough after a few minutes of walking. Turning towards the commander, he took a moment to swallow his pride and said quietly, "Megatron betrayed me."
Optimus paused a moment, neither looking surprised nor boastful. "And you're…shocked at this?"
"Well, it's been millions of years since I was first sparked," replied Starscream with a scowl. Then his expression dropped, giving up the effort to fight. He didn't have the drive to compete about Megatron's behavior, and he wasn't interested in having a conversation about it. Instead, he continued, saying, "Hook arrived at the base. I guess he found a way to modify soldiers, and I was the first test subject."
Prime frowned under his faceplates, already coming to the conclusion Starscream was making. How was he not surprised? Megatron was bound to find way to elevate the playing field, and his soldiers were the closest and easiest resources. And if Hook was involved…Optimus understood the horror because he had to live with it before. One of his most personal encounters was Ironhide being captured in a major battle. The Autobots needed to retreat with rescued hostages and the brute soldier was taken by the Decepticons.
When the commander finally retrieved him, Ironhide wasn't even a Transformer anymore. He was simply a machine—morphed so much to become a mindless, insane super soldier for Megatron's bidding. Luckily, some of Ironhide's conscious remained enough that his spark mate, Chromia, was able to break through the madness and reach him. Ratchet's medical work was at its best when they brought him back to the base, but even now he was still recovering from the trauma.
"Do you know what might have been done?" asked Optimus, scanning over his body again and again for clues.
Starscream shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned, he could've wrapped me up as a fragging mummy and was ready to throw me into a sarcophagus. Everything's black until I saw Hook come through the door and that's when I grabbed him and threw him against the wall. Then I made my escape."
Prime found himself surprised Starscream would know such knowledge, considering how careless Decepticons were at the planets they stationed themselves on. Perhaps Megatron had him conduct research from the humans' past to find ways on using the planet to his advantage. Optimus blinked, also realizing that Starscream had now just barely escaped from his Decepticon superior. He must've not waited around after discovering himself in a lab. Then…he didn't even realize what he looked like.
There were two distinct factors that Optimus and all his Autobots noticed upon seeing Starscream. The fact he said Hook got a hold of him only answered questions that whirled in his processor when he'd taken a gander at the mech. Optics that had once been gold were now a soft blue, and the fact that pink energon splattered against his body was what Prime assumed he'd been injured. Apparently not.
"So what did you want to talk about with me?" queried the commander, his tone softer now that he understood the Decepticon's circumstances.
Starscream coughed for a moment, an odd movement, making the Autobot curious. The crimson one looked sick for a brief flash, but the mech was able to push the sensation back and his expression became controlled again. Although the Decepticon had been able to handle himself then, there was still a shimmer of fear in his bright, blue orbs. Fear of the unknown virus within.
"I wanted to make a deal with you," began Starscream, opening his palms as though he was trying to physically tell the truth, "I used to be the second-in-command of Megatron's military. As Air Commander, I had access to files I'm sure your hackers have dreamed of. Codes, information, hostage locations, battle formations and maps, you name it. Besides that, I'm an expert flier. I'd be incredibly beneficial considering your only flier is a shuttle, and trust me, they might have power, but they don't have agility. I also have excellent communication skills and I'm pretty proficient with computers. Science and math are probably my most adept studies. As you can see, there were reasons why Megatron kept me around despite my lack of discipline and fighting abilities. I can be—"
Optimus lifted a hand to cut off the seeker, understanding where this was going. Starscream let his hands fall to his side, looking almost fearful of what Prime might say next. "I see you want to join the Autobots, no doubt to get back at Megatron. You have to understand, Starscream, that our cause is much more than to just bring down Megatron. We've come to save the Mini-Cons, to bring peace on Cybertron and wherever we travel. I understand you feel betrayed, angered too, but the millions of years of habits obtained by being a Decepticon is not something you can just forget in mere days. Trust me, it's happened before and I've seen the results."
Starscream quirked up, surprised that anyone had done the same before his time. "Why, what happened?" he asked, genuinely curious.
Optimus sighed, crossing his arms. "Most of them returned to being a Decepticon."
With a frown, the seeker glanced the forest floor, obviously understanding where the leader was coming from. A moment went by before he glanced up once more, saying, "Well, I wanted more than just to offer revenge on Megatron. If I know Hook and Megatron, I know that they've turned me into something truly horrible. As a seeker, I pride myself on my reputation and where I come from, and if it's the last thing I could bear, it's to be something any other than seeker. I want to find a cure. Your medics are renowned, I've brought down your soldiers time after time and they've all kept popping back up, annoying slaggers."
Starscream offered a slight smirk at the comment, Optimus following suit. "Most of that is simply will. You'd be surprised how many Ratchet claimed would never wake up and there they are, still fighting."
"Yes, well, I…" Starscream trailed off, a hand instinctively clinging to his abdomen as a sickly expression fell over his face again. Optimus barely grabbed him before the seeker bent over and choked up, pink energon splattering over the ground. Grappling his arms, the Autobot held the seeker in place as he nearly tumbled over, continuing to vomit.
A hand clung to Optimus' as the crimson one remained in his stooped over position, his entire body trembling from the shock of what had just happened. "Easy there…" murmured Prime, slowly gathering the seeker into his arms to ease him back to his subordinates. Clearly that had been as unsuspecting to Starscream as it had been to Optimus, which made the commander know that he wasn't faking an act. "Just relax, take it slow…"
With smooth movements, the Autobot leader practically carried the seeker towards his comrades, surprised optics falling upon the pair as they arrived. Red Alert was immediately next to them, Starscream attempting to shy away from the doctor's protocols. Optimus held him still, even forcing him to face the medic's prying optics. Normally Prime wouldn't be so demanding, but he became absolute over one's health.
"N-no," rebelled the antsy Decepticon, but the amount of energon that had escaped left him weak and vulnerable to Red Alert's tentative hands.
The pair ignored him, the medic snapping out his normal gauze from a subspace compartment and wiping clean Starscream's faceplates from the mess.
"Sheesh, what'd you say to him, boss?" asked Hot Shot with a quirked optic ridge. "Scared the slag outta him!"
"I would be intimidated if I were the only Decepticon around and have a private chat with the other faction's most powerful Autobot and the bearer of the Matrix," Jetfire quipped, more thoughtful than proud.
"No you wouldn't, you'd be excited just to beat the crap out of them!" returned the younger with a grin at his friend.
"I didn't do anything," Optimus responded softly to his original question, "we'll be taking him into the base. He needs medical attention."
Hot Shot groaned, slacking his shoulders in annoyance. "What are we, a Decepticon nursery now or something? We just take in sick Decepticons and foster them back to health so they can start destroying us again. I like the plan, boss."
"No," corrected Jetfire, lifting a finger in a human gesture, "me and Prime had a conversation with Megatron that we were going to trade Starscream for you. We realized you were too much of an aft bag to be an Autobot anymore."
The young one attempted to make a rebuttal before he understood the harshness of the remark, leaving his mouth agape for a moment before he shut it and huffed, crossing his arms. "I'm just sayin'," he finally muttered, stomping off towards the entrance of the base.
"So, what happened?" Red alert murmured as he helped bring the exhausted Decepticon.
"Hook is what happened," sighed the leader, shaking his head.
The medic remained silent for a moment, pondering, before he responded, "Megatron: 0, Prime: 1."
A/N: So this is the first chapter! I hoped you liked it. Optimus and Megatron are so problematic to write…
*Edit 9/4/13: I beefed up some of the vocabulary and tried to fix as much of the grammatical mistakes as I could. I realized I used "attempted" a lot. Sheesh.
Read and review, please!