Youth was a blinder, one that he had been happy to discard but now longed to possess once again. Others at the Academy had mocked him, both for his age and his frame type. But not Skyfire - never Skyfire. The shuttle had been his refuge, his safety net in a world intent on sending him tumbling forever down.
But everything had changed. His friend was dead, and he was left wandering the universe alone. All that remained were memories, fragile things that seemed to slip and tease until the files were almost irretrievable. Corrupted.
His youngling-hood was gone, instead replaced by cold reality. He would never see Skyfire smile at him again. And now he yearned for things past.
A blip of pulsing red light appeared on Soundwave's visor, indicating some sort of signal. He turned to the seeker, helm tilted in silent inquiry. It was not of Decepticon origins, but neither was it Autobot. In fact, the voiceless mech was surprised he hadn't noticed it before. It was a faint, fading signal, but he should have been able to pick up on it in the last two years they had inhabited this planet… Regardless, it was imperative to report his findings. And in the absence of their lord, Starscream would do.
The silver mech glanced at the coordinates briefly, scoffing at the temperature readings with disdain. How he hated the cold. Flickering images of searching for… something leaped to the forefront of his processor, the cold bite of wind and ice against his wings in the memory making him shiver involuntarily. He ignored the inquisitive flash of light from Soundwave's visual screen, optics distant as he turned away, staring out of the bridge at the clouds floating languidly by the Nemesis.
With a jolt, the seeker pulled himself from his internal distractions, helm whipping around to face Soundwave. "I would hate to extend our resources toward something that would not bring about a rewarding resolution. However, if we were to pass up on a possible ally…" He let the thought linger for a few breems before issuing his commands. "Send out a small team of drones. I shall personally observe their efforts. Unless you have any objections….."
As ever, the communications officer was silent, only a tiny cant of the faceless helm an indication that he'd heard. The seeker flashed a self-satisfied grin. Of course his companion would not object; he could say nothing that those before him had not.
After a quick ground-bridge to the arctic region, Starscream and a substantial group of drones were scouring the frozen wasteland for a dull, ending signal of Cybertronian life. Purple frames roamed in wide circles, sensors clutched in servos tightly, plating shivering against the cold. The seeker stood in the center of it all, watching, waiting… remembering.
Ice clung to his wings, making it nearly impossible for him to fly…
The cold was a nuisance, the thin planes of his wings quickly lowering in temperature. His engines tried desperately to keep up, but of course they were no match for this planet's strangely bipolar elements. His vents were closed, only cycling the air already trapped inside his body. And still he shook, faintly so as not to draw attention to his weakness.
His vocoder crackled and sparked, sending small amounts of static into the frigid air. Screaming and screaming and screaming. But there was no response. There would never be a response.
"Skyfire…" The sound of his own voice brought him back to reality. There was no way that this discovery could be his fallen partner, and yet he still found room to hope. It was foolish, unreasonable; he had deleted the memories from his processor long ago, for there was no point in remembering that which he could not scavenge.
And yet a few had managed to prevail, despite his attempts at removing the past. A futile attempt, he realized now.
"Commander Starscream!"
His attention instantly turned at the sound of his designation, optics flickering to the drone with a mix between excitement and resignation, and his vocals produced a rumbling purr as he spoke, despite the cold. "Yes?"
The drone glanced nervously at the object in its servos, or perhaps that was simply its frame trying to warm itself. "I think I found something. The signal-"
"Lead the way," the seeker commanded, interrupting the low-ranked soldier in his impatience.
A joor later, the silver mech was found waiting again, this time apprehensively. It had been determined that whatever was emitting the frequency rested below the surface, frozen in the ice beneath their pedes. The drones had commenced to digging, shifting between those working and those waiting in reserve, trying to warm themselves up after so long spent in this extreme region.
Whoever it was, he was large.
Taller than any other mech he'd met before...
His plating blended into the ice and snow, making it hard to discern if they were uncovering a shadow or something that had once breathed, lived. And died. But not yet. He clung to whatever shred of life he had left, even as his already weak pulse faded away.
Plating white like the stars reflected off panes of glass, each one unique and treasured somewhere in this universe…
Like he was…
These thoughts, foreign and familiar, both new and old, bashing against the fragile order previously established in his processor, were taking their toll on Starscream. He longed to curl up in on himself, shivering, sharp talons clutching his helm, optics wide with distress…. But that was hardly the stance of a leader. So he held out, frame shuddering in cycles. His wings were slowly being laced with frost, the spirals winding up delicate flight sensors until he couldn't feel them anymore. If only he could do the same with his spark - find some way to freeze the hope and pain and lust-.
They uncovered his faceplate then.
Starscream was too numb to register individuals, only passing shapes moving around him in a whirlwind of activity. Their forms blurred in his peripherals, but it hardly mattered. His crimson optics were locked on the pale features.
Horror, betrayal, guilt….
He wanted to reach out and touch the figure, just to be certain. His arm raised, talons sliding over an ice-encrusted optic, still open but shut down to save power. He tapped it once, twice, a faint inkling of hope wanting them to flare online and smile at him reassuringly.
The sound of a weapons system activating reached his audios, and he returned to himself, optics glancing around frantically for the source. The drones had ceased, red visors staring back at him uniformly. But no canon was aimed at his helm, no overbearing force shoving him into submission.
He looked back down at the white mech and realized that the only weapons that had come online were his own.
And with careful aim at his target, he fired, red light flashing once against blue-tinted ice.
Pandemonium was quick to follow.
Warmth. Welcoming and beautiful. He could feel again; his wings, although still shivering with the memory of cold, were frost-free at last.
His report to Soundwave was brief:
Signal: found. Signal: disappeared before subject could be fully excavated. Subject: deceased. Casualties: 23. Explanation: Extreme temperatures.
Never had Starscream felt the need to return to his personal chambers more than this.
[BTW, I didn't kill Skyfire. If that's what you're wondering. Thanks for reading, and feedback is greatly appreciated!]