Title: The Right Hand of Friendship
Verse: Transformers: Prime, set before Darkness Rising
Summary: Starscream offers a truce, Optimus is optimistic, and Ratchet is paranoid. They all have their reasons.
Notes: I'm not very happy with this one, but the idea has been in my head for weeks and was heading to Turkey for vacation but had to get it out. Hope if passes muster.
"Optimus," Ratchet called out. "I'm picking up a recorded message broadcast on numerous channels. Decepticon coding."
Moving in behind his medic Optimus set his hand on the back of Ratchet's chair and leaned in to take a look at the screen over his shoulder. "Is there any way they could trace the message back to us if we view it?"
Ratchet shook his head, not bothering to look back and not the least bit uncomfortable by his looming leader. "Negative. It's been pre-recorded and sent to broadcast on a loop. It's essentially wavelengths bouncing around in space; there will be no live connection between our systems and theirs."
Optimus was silent for a moment longer, mulling the matter over, before making a decision. "Let's see it then."
Ratchet nodded, pressing a few button on the consol before him he sat a little straighter forcing Optimus to take a step back. The screen before them flickered once and then the unmistakable countenance of the Decepticons' second in command filled the monitor.
"Greetings, Optimus Prime," Starscream said, tilting his head in salutation. "As I am sure you are aware, Megatron has recently abandoned his responsibilities here on Earth on what is sure to be a fool's errand."
Startled, both Ratchet and Optimus perked up at this news. They had not been aware as a matter of fact, something Starscream no doubt suspected as the recording paused to allow for the words sink in. This opening volley was more bait than a statement of fact and despite themselves it worked as intended; both Autobots were now hooked.
"I feel it is my duty," Starscream continued, "as acting commander of the remaining Decepticon forces, to use this opportunity to discuss terms of a general ceasefire." Leaning into the camera Starscream smiled his most winning smile. "You will find, Prime, that I am a much more reasonable mech than my regrettably absent leader."
Optimus barely registered Ratchet's quiet snort at this, transfixed as his was by what was unfolding on the screen.
"I suggest a private conference between you and I to negotiate matters. The time and coordinates for the meeting are attached to this message. If you do not attend I will take it as sign of your desire to continue hostilities between our two peoples…a most distressing and disappointing state of affairs I am not too proud to admit." Raising one bristling hand to his chest in a slight bow, Starscream's message ended with a confident. "Until we meet."
Ratchet tossed his hands in the air and swivelled his chair around to look at Optimus, his indignation plain. "The nerve! 'Distressing and disappointing' my af…"
"Do you have the coordinates?" Optimus interrupted him absently, staring off into the distance, clearly in deep thought.
Ratchet gaped. "You can't seriously be considering meeting with him! It's an obvious trap! Megatron probably isn't even gone and will be waiting for you the moment you step out of the ground bridge, cannon hot!"
Optimus shook his head and refocused his gaze on his friend. "No, Ratchet. I know Megatron and this, trap or not, is definitely not his style."
"All the more reason to stay away," the medic argued. "You might know how to handle Megatron…can bash each other's heads in all day…but you don't know Starscream enough to anticipate anything. He's up to something, Optimus, and it has nothing to do with a ceasefire."
"Perhaps not," Optimus agreed. "But I can't risk spoiling even the slightest chance for peace." He raised a hand to cut off any further arguments. "And if it is some scheme, it's better we find out sooner rather than later."
"I'm not so sure about that, if finding out means getting a hole blown through your chest plate," Ratchet snapped sourly.
Optimus smiled down at him. "I'm hurt Ratchet, you don't think I can take Starscream!"
"In a fair fight I have no doubt," Ratchet conceded, "but something tells me that this one fights anything but fair."
Nodding thoughtfully Optimus sighed. "We'll take every precaution. Scan the area thoroughly for signs of an ambush or weapon, keep the land bridge on standby for an emergency escape."
"Bring Cliffjumper and Bulkhead as backup," Ratchet added.
"I believe the message specified a private meeting," Optimus reminded him.
"Really," Ratchet feigned surprise, "I'm pretty sure we had some static or data corruption in the message, I didn't hear that part."
Chuckling Optimus moved away. "Upload those coordinates, Ratchet; I'll go brief the rest of the team."
Grumbling Ratchet spun his chair back around to face the consol, Optimus picking snatches of something about the Decepticons not being the only ones with a leader going on a fool's errand.
A cycle later Optimus found himself stepping out of the ground bridge vortex onto an open plain of scrubby desert. There was nothing of note for miles, the expanse empty and unthreatening on all sides. He had to admit it was a well thought out meeting place meant to instil confidence in a ground base Cybertronian. A few meters away stood Starscream, a table and two chairs set up beside him.
"Optimus Prime," the flyer hailed. "I'm so glad my faith in you was not misplaced and you accepted my invitation."
"Given what is at stake I could hardly refuse," Optimus replied, scanning their seemingly empty surroundings and confirming Ratchet's own findings of nothing suspicious.
"Quite so, quiet so," Starscream agreed, taking a step forward and pulling back a chair to offer his guest. "Shall we take a seat?"
Moving forward, the vortex closing behind him, Optimus took the proffered seat, watching his companion intently as he moved lithely around the table to sit in his own chair.
"Where would you like to begin?" Starscream asked deferentially, clasping his hands in front on him on the table between them.
"Perhaps you can start by telling me where Megatron has gone?" Optimus asked bluntly, not expecting a real answer, but curious none the less.
Slight annoyance seemed to flit across the flyer's face for a moment upon hearing the question, but the answer was quick. "I'm afraid I don't know. He did not deign to inform us of his plans, only telling us that he was leaving to find an advantage since we'd failed him so miserably. I doubt he will return and am glad of it."
"And without his war mongering you have decided for peace?" Optimus asked sceptically.
Starscream sighed. "To tell you the truth Optimus…can I call you Optimus?" Before receiving a reply he continued on, "this proposed ceasefire is of a more practical nature than anything else."
This sounded more believable and Optimus raised an optic ridge in signal to continue.
"I'm sure you think me a poor host for not offering you any refreshment upon your arrival," Starscream stated in non-sequitur.
Optimus hadn't thought any such thing; he wasn't expecting the little conference room set up, let alone small talk and an energon fountain. He wouldn't have been stupid enough to drink anything offered to him anyway, uncouth or not, and he was sure Starscream knew this.
"I accept full responsibility for the faux pas, but I'm afraid our reserves are so low at the moment that we just can't spare any for etiquette's sake."
"It's nothing, really," Optimus offered, not really sure where this was all going. He was struggling to keep track of the situation, expecting a bomb under his seat or a straight forward hammering out of terms not this bizarre dialogue.
"You're too kind," Starscream murmured, snaking his hand across the table, spanning the distance between them and resting his talons over Optimus' own larger hand. "It is your fabled compassion and this lack of energy which has spurred to me contact you."
Horrified Optimus stared down at their hands; Starscream's thin and delicate boldly dwarfed by his own, which could easily crush if offended. Was the flyer flirting with him? Clearing his vocalize Optimus looked up catch the flyer's gaze. "I'm not sure what you want from me, Starscream."
Tightening his grip slightly the sharpened points of Starscream's fingers dug slightly into the back of Optimus' hand. It didn't hurt, but the urgency of his next words was transmitted clearly. "I suggest a general halt of hostilities between our forces so that we may mine for energon un-harassed."
The offer on the table, Optimus was disappointed, as they were conditions he found impossible to accept.
"This is not our planet, the Autobots are allied with the humans who live here, we cannot in good conscience let you ravage this planets resources unchallenged…even for the sake of peace."
Hissing Starscream snatched his hand away, his talons scoring Optimus' hand hard enough to bring trails of energon to the surface. It burned slightly but the pain was nothing and Optimus ignored it.
"You would ruin your first chance to end this war for the sake of some organic vermin! All we ask is that we be allowed to gather enough energon to leave this place and start a new colony on a more suitable planet! This is hardly asking too much." Starscream's outrage was palatable, his voice raising a few octaves and beginning to grate.
"Be that as it may," Optimus reasoned. "I cannot accept terms which would be detrimental to this planet and its inhabitants. Perhaps if you give me some time I could discuss matters with our allies and we could come to a mutually beneficial arrangement."
"You're delusional if you believe I'll go begging for help from those pestilent meat sacks! Either you accept the ceasefire and leave us alone or you'll see how 'detrimental' we can be to this planet and its inhabitants!"
Shaking his head Optimus stood firm. "I'm sorry."
Optimus tensed, expecting an attack when Starscream leapt quickly to his feet, chair toppling backward.
"Oh, you'll be sorry indeed," he threatened. "We could have coexisted quite peacefully, Prime, but you had to be difficult. I have quite enough disposable troops to throw at your pathetic little band until one of them makes a mistake. When that happens you'll only have yourself to blame."
With that parting shot Starscream jumped forward, kicked off the table, sending it jarring back into Optimus' midsection, and transformed, rocketing off into the sky and leaving a scorching after burn in the Autobot's face.
Heaving a weary sigh Optimus watched him disappear, pushing back from the table to stand. A quick signal to Ratchet opened the ground bridge and a moment later he stepped through and back into the base.
"Well?" Ratchet queried stepping forward to meet Optimus as soon as the bridge closed.
"To tell you the truth I have no idea what just happened," he said puzzled. "He was welcoming, then contrite, then I think he tired to flirt with me, and finally he flew off the handle and threatened our destruction."
"So no cease fire?" Ratchet asked dryly.
"No cease fire," Optimus confirmed.
Turning as if to walk away Ratchet paused, and turned back to Optimus. "What do you mean he flirted with you?"
Optimus chuckled. "He, ummm, he touched my hand," he admitted slightly embarrassed.
Snapping to attention instantly Ratchet lunged forward grabbing both of Optimus' wrists to inspect his hands. "You let him touch you!" he bellowed as he turned Optimus' hands over, noting the thin scratches on the back of one of them.
"I was hardly going to punch him in the face for a few harmless advances, Ratchet!" Optimus argued. "It was nothing."
"What do you call these then?" Ratchet demanded as he yanked on Optimus' wounded hand.
"They're just a few scratches I got when he pulled away abruptly. They don't even hurt."
Cursing Ratchet pulled Optimus along toward one of his exam benches, slamming his hand down. "Don't move," he warned aa he rummaged around for some equipment. Finally finding what he was looking for he turned to move the scanner over the offending marks.
"Primus!" he exclaimed as he examined the read out. Instantly tossing the scanner aside he activated one of his wrist mounted blades, bringing it down hard and completely severing Optimus' hand off.
Roaring in pain Optimus reared back, clutching at the newly formed stump. There was no energon leakage, Ratchet's blades cauterizing as they cut, but it was still agonizing and completely unexpected in its sudden violence.
"Explain yourself!" he shouted, stopping short of advancing on Ratchet who was currently stepping away from him hands raised in submission.
"Nanites," the medic said. "There were nanites in the scratches. They'd begun an infestation of your hand; from there they would have moved up your arm and on to the rest of your body. I had to cut them off before any of them got any further. He must have coated his talons with them before the meeting and purposefully drew energon to completely the transfer."
Aghast Optimus looked to his severed hand lying innocently on the bench, still clutching his remaining stump to his chest. "What would they have done?"
Ratchet scoffed. "Nothing good I'm sure. Most likely they would have migrated to your essential systems and shut them down, or perhaps focused on your spark chamber. I'll have to do more tests to be sure. Either way by the time you started showing any symptoms it would have been too late for me to do anything."
"Then I owe you my life, my friend," Optimus said softly.
"Don't be too hasty," Ratchet informed him as he moved back toward Optimus. "You'll have to be constantly monitored for the next cycle of so to make sure none of the little buggers migrated."
"I'm in your hands," Optimus conceded, allowing the medic to steer him towards the medical bay.
"Yes, well," Ratchet patted Optimus on the back, "apparently better mine than Starscream's!"
End