CHAPTER ONE:

"Skywarp, Thundercracker and Starscream berthed with the Nemesis three astroseconds ago, Lord Megatron."

"Excellent, Soundwave. Have them intercept me in 6-B hangar for a debriefing."

Megatron rubbed his hands in anticipation. The three jets had been sent on an energon run to the Caspian Sea region two hours ago. The supplies were badly needed for repairs from the last Autobot/Decepticon clash.

Megatron hadn't anticipated trouble. Their mission was supposed to have been a quick and easy break into a Terran natural gas facility- child's play for his Seeker lieutenants. Therefore when he arrived at B-6 hangar, the sight of smoke emitting from beneath Skywarp's ailerons and Thundercracker's shattered cockpit was disconcerting, to say the least. Hook, Swindle and several autodrones were already operating on the two Seekers, who were lying prone on emergency repair berths. Only Starscream, resting several meters away, seemed to have escaped unscathed.

Speaking of which-

"You can transform now, Starscream," said Megatron.

Silence.

"Uh, boss..." began Thundercracker. "You see, uh..."
He faltered.

"What my blue pal is trying to say, Lord Megatron-" interjected Skywarp- "is, Starscream isn't gonna transform."

"Whaaaaaaat?! Explain!"

Megatron strode over to the med berth and grabbed Thundercracker by his battered cockpit carapace. He shook the injured Seeker, causing Thundercracker's voice to tremble through his words:

"The Autobots were waiting for us! Prime and the others- it was an ambush! We barely flew out of there in time! And, one of the Autobots- the one with the glowing head attachments–"

"Wheeljack," growled Megatron. Wheeljack the mad Autobot inventor. He could see where this was heading.

Skywarp, concerned that Megatron's interrogation was about to shake Thundercracker's cockpit right off, chose to interrupt:

"He zapped Screamer with this gun, something he called a Neurocircuit Divergence Nullifier. I'd never seen it before. Ugly fragger. When he zapped Screamer we decided to hightail it outta there. But now Screamer says he's stuck in F-15 mode- and disabled all non-alt mode function. He's basically a walking- uh, flying Earth vehicle."

Megatron turned loomed over the red and silver jet. "Is this true?"

The jet didn't answer. Instead it trembled ever so slightly like a butterfly sensing a frog poised to strike.

Megatron cocked his head. "Were his vocalizers damaged?"

"No, bo- uh, Lord Megatron. You shoulda heard him on the way here," added Skywarp. In fact, Skywarps's audio sensors were still ringing with Starscream's rants of outrage, fear, and vows for vengeance.

Megatron paused, considering.

Then, without warning he kicked Starscream square in the midsection, momentarily propelling the red jet into the air so that it flipped and landed belly-up with a painful crunch. Skywarp and Thundercracker winced. But the kick had the desired effect. Starscream yelped.

"O Great leader, it wasn't my fault! I was flying perfectly! It was those two- they didn't lay sufficient cover fire! I---"

"Enough!" Megatron hissed. He turned to Hook: "Get Soundwave working on this cretin. I want my Second-in-Command fully functional within ten astrohours!"

"What if he isn't?" ventured Swindle (who was already calculating Starscream's ratio of scrap to salvageable metal).

In response Megatron unleashed a measured blast from his fusion canon that pulverized the floor five centimeters from Starscream's left stabilizer, and stomped out of the hangar.

"Ooooooh boy," muttered Thundercracker.

Megatron's furious departure left a silent void no Decepticons present seemed willing to fill. They remained in place for several minutes, neither moving nor speaking, until they became aware of a whirring sound originating at their feet.

Starscream had unsheathed his landing gear. Now its pathetic wheels were spinning uselessly against empty air. Without hands or legs, Starscream's jet mode couldn't right itself, though his frame yawed with the effort. To the staring Decepticons, he resembled nothing so much as an overturned cockroach.

"Idiots," Starscream hissed, "how about some help here!?!"

CHAPTER TWO:

Soundwave ran test after test on the red jet but couldn't find anything wrong. After several hours of poking, prodding and scanning, he sent Starscream back to his quarters while he ran the results through his computer.

The newly-repaired Thundercracker was sent to escort him to his quarters. As Starscream rolled disconsolately along the hallway, Thundercracker couldn't help feeling a twinge of sympathy for his irritable Commander. Maintaining one's altmode for an extended period of time was physically uncomfortable. The Decepticon rank-and-file certainly didn't make the ordeal any easier. Word of Starscream's predicament traveled fast around the Nemesis. Almost as soon as they left the repairs hangar they met Frenzy and Rumble, who'd come specifically to rankle the jets.

"Hey Thundercracker, is that the new pet chicken?" Frenzy jeered.
"Maybe we should sign him up with the US Air Force," replied Rumble.
"Naw, I hear Laserbeak needs a girlfriend!"

The two cassettes high-fived and ran off.

"When I transform I'm going to pound those brats into LP's," Starscream grumbled.

The rest of the Decepticons weren't any better. On the best of days, Decepticons aren't renowned for their tact. But give them an inch and they'll beat you with it. Starscream was followed by a constant barrage of clucking noises, verbal insults, and bird calls all the way to his room. Starscream hadn't said much during the whole ordeal. Thundercracker noticed that his Commander was bearing the provocation remarkably well. Still, he was pretty sure that was a sigh of relief when the door swished shut behind them.

Like most Decepticon officers' quarters, Starscream's chamber held little more than a recharge berth, an access computer, a neat stack of data pads, a ration of energon cubes, basic maintenance supplies, plus a few unidentifiable odds and ends. It was a little larger than standard-issue quarters in consideration of Starscream's rank. Also, because of his rank, Starscream wasn't billeted with anyone else. Most of the other Decepticons were housed in multiple-occupant garages. Thundercracker himself bunked with Skywarp.
After seeing his Commander safely ensconced, Thundercracker turned to walk out the door when Starscream cleared his throat.

"You need anything else, Chief?"

Starscream's reply was inaudible. Thundercracker shrugged and turned again.

"I said, I need help getting on my berth."

"Whoops," said Thundercracker. The recharge berth stood at least twenty feet above the floor, and Starscream couldn't fly in jet mode- unless he wanted to fire his engines, that is, and most likely bring the ceiling down, bigger room or not. He felt slightly stupid when he noticed this, but at the same time wrote himself a mental memo about the berths. You never knew when you too would have to cope with life stuck as a jet.

Thundercracker wrapped his blue arms around Starscream's broad fuselage. As he bent his knees, he worried whether Starscream would require aid for even the most basic tasks while he was in this state. He managed to lift the jet a few feet above the ground before dropping it. Starscream clucked in annoyance.

"Get Skywarp to help, you fool! You know we're not built for heavy transport!"

"Okay, okay. Don't melt your afterburners about it." Thundercracker radioed Skywarp, who was in Diagnostics. Thundercracker relayed this information to Starscream.

"Maybe I should call the Constructicons ?"

Starscream sighed.

"No." he said. "Just plug me into the generator then."
He sounded small...and tired.

Thundercracker gently flipped open Starscream's refueling hatch and attached the energon cable. The generator hummed slightly as it pumped precious raw energy into Starscream's circuits. They sat in silence. Thundercracker told himself that he was simply staying in the room so he could unhook the pump when Starscream finished recharging.

However, he had to admit that he did feel a protective twinge over his recalcitrant Commander. Starscream- when not plotting to destroy Megatron, the Autobots, the Decepticons, and/ or conquer the known universe- was actually a capable officer who had a high regard for his airborne underlings. Starscream didn't care much for the other Decepticons, but he seemed to genuinely respect his Seekers- and even the Coneheads and the Aerialbots- anything with wings. It was a transformist prejudice, but there you go.

They were a pretty tight unit. Sure, Starscream never hesitated to lay the blame on them whenever things went wrong- but this was mostly when Megatron was around. Craziness was normal whenever Megatron was around. Sure, Thundercracker occasionally enjoyed seeing Starscream squirm (like that time with Skyfire in Peru) but what were a few conspiracies between friends?

Friends.
Huh.
When did that concept enter the equation?

His musing was interrupted by another round of throat-clearing from Starscream. Thundercracker jolted awake. He unhooked the pump and got to his feet, for the first time relishing the fact that he could stretch his knees.

"Chief...'Screamer...if you need anything else, just give me a signal on the uplink, okay? And I mean it. Anything."

"Your offer of assistance is noted, Thundercracker, but I'm not an invalid. I'm fine. Now leave me alone."

"Gotcha, Chief." Again Thundercracker motioned to leave. Again he stopped just short of the doorway.

"Did you say something?"

No answer. The room's lights darkened as Starscream implemented stasis-mode procedure. The jet's motors died down, their slight intake of air cooling to a whisper. His pilot array lights dimmed until they were nothing but tiny glowing pinpricks in the dark, like stars at dusk.

Thundercracker made sure the door was shut behind him. Then he heard it again: a muffled, raspy, sleepy voice from behind the locked door:

"Thank you."

CHAPTER 3

"You're going to trade me to the Autobots!?!" wailed Starscream.

Two ranks of mechs faced each other in a remote corner of the Mojave Desert. They were, of course, the Autobots and the Decepticons. Their guns were drawn. Their combat programs were primed to painstaking readiness. Their optics squinted in the afternoon sun.

Between them, a red and silver F-15 jet dug its wheels into the rocky soil. Inside the jet, a young man who had been strapped (unwillingly) into the cockpit seat perked in hushed surprise. No one, least of all Starscream, had expected that last line.

"Think of it as a…. demotion of rank," Megatron told the jet. "After all, what use to me is a transformer who cannot transform? Worse….an aircraft that cannot fly? Fortunately, these kind gentlemen-" Megatron gestured towards the Autobots-" have agreed to surrender the Neurocircuit Divergence Nullifier in exchange for the life of their pet human, Spike Witwicky."

Now he pointed to Starscream.

"I'm just throwing you in to sweeten the deal. Be grateful that your impending imprisonment prevents me from turning you into scrap metal. That is, if your new hosts don't decide to scrap you anyway."

"I'm not going! You can't leave me!" Starscream shrieked.

Megatron trained his fusion canon at the jet's nose cone. "Do as you're told," he said," or I will turn you over to Swindle. And when he gets through with you, there won't be enough circuits left over to construct a servo-drone."

He turned towards Optimus:" Now, Prime, give me the Nullifier, or your human is carrion."

Optimus Prime produced a pistol-like instrument from his truck cabin. He tossed it into the sand halfway between the two robotic ranks. It landed right beside Starscream. The jet flinched, still stunned and unable to comprehend.

Prime's deep voice echoed across the void between the battle ranks.

"On the count of three, Megatron. We both take what we came for. And then we leave."

"Certainly, Optimus. Have we not come here merely to parley? I have no interest in vaporizing your pathetic excuse of a race. For now. One. "

"Two-"

On the count of two both robots dashed to the center. Megatron dove towards the pistol, Prime towards Starscream. Prime jammed open the cockpit but couldn't tear the bonds still holding Spike to the seat before Megatron laughed and held the cube aloft.

"At last! The Nullifier! Decepticons, fire! Leave no Autobot alive!"

The air erupted into frenzied lasers as each rank fired their guns as one. All was commotion, smoke, dust, heat, and fire. Unable to see (thanks to his low ground height, compounded by the dust) Starscream was too disoriented to react when strong hands grabbed his tailfins. Then he felt himself rolling.

Prime was pushing him toward the Autobot ranks.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaah!"

Starscream pulled on his brakes, flapped his ailerons, jammed his wheels- anything to stop the inexonerable taxi towards enemy lines. Suddenly, an orange truck mech stepped out of the smoke. Ironhide, Starscream thought dully, before a thump on his sensitive navigation block put him into deep and involuntary stasis.

Starscream came to in a darkened cell. His sensors throbbed. The altimeter on his array wobbled sickeningly, and he spewed a little lubricant on the floor. He remembered with sickening dread the events of only a few hours before, and fought the rising panic in his spark by assessing the situation.

For the past week- since the day Wheeljack had shot him with the Nullifier- Starscream had been confined to his quarters on the Nemesis. Attempts to repair his damaged circuits- or even discover the nature of the problem- were unsuccessful. Then Megatron had summoned him; they'd managed to capture the Autobots' human ally, Spike Witwicky. Spike would be traded for the Nullifier. The Nullifier would repair Starscream. It had sounded so elementary when Megatron explained it, all the while binding Spike to Starscream's cockpit.

He'll be safe with you, cooed Megatron. I don't expect you to enter combat in your…condition.

Then Megatron had betrayed him, and sold him to the Autobots.

Now he was their prisoner. He was probably lying in one of their prison cells deep within the well-fortified Ark. He couldn't transform out of his jet mode to defend himself. Worst of all, he couldn't fly. The paralyzing fear of heights that had overtaken him ever since the Nullifier shot made even low -altitude flights an ordeal. He was truly helpless.

They could do anything to him.

Things weren't necessarily hopeless. Autobots on Cybertron were generally a non-agressive race who preferred diplomacy over violence. They rarely killed, even in self-defense. They were honest laborers who'd sooner socialize over a vat of refined energon than shoot. Of course, that was back on Cybertron- before the Decepticons had taught them to hate, to fear, and to kill. Moreover, several Autobots on the Ark had personal reasons for wanting to put Starscream into painful and permanent deactivation.

He resigned himself to his fate and hoped it wouldn't take too long.

CHAPTER FOUR

Flashback:

After a bolt from Wheeljack's Nullifier trapped Starscream in his jet mode, Megatron had ordered his Aerial Commander confined to base until Soundwave found a cure- or until Megatron lost his patience and scrapped the jet. He theorized that by tracing the anomalous energy patterns running through Starscream's system, the Decepticons could retro-engineer a Nullifier and turn this new weapon to their advantage.

For two days, life went on as usual in the Nemesis, if a little more quietly. To Thundercracker, things seemed amiss without Starscream and Megatron's constant bickering. Maybe it was time to check up and see how old fraghead Screamer was doing.

His Commander's room was deathly quiet. Not a single dot of light emitted from the computers, from the recharge berth, or Starscream himself. Thundercracker waited an astrosecond for his night vision to click on before scanning the chamber.

"Chief?"

Starscream's pilot array lit up.

"What is it now, Thundercracker?"

"Thought you might need more energon. It's been a couple of days and you haven't asked for a refill." Thundercracker opened the generator and emptied three cubes' worth into the tank. Then he picked up the nozzle and prepared to hook it to Starscream's fuel gauge.

"I don't need it," said Starscream . "As you can see, I haven't been doing much lately. Go away and come back when you've got something more substantial to tell me."

"No problem…. By the way, Skywarp and I were thinking of trying out some of those new maneuvers you created."

"The Tetramagon Formation? Are you kidding? I haven't even worked out the lead-ups."

"Then maybe you could, y'know, fly out and show us."

An unfamiliar note of doubt crept into Starscream's voice.

"I don't know…I still can't transform…"

"Not an issue. It's all jet-mode stuff anyhow. Just get out there and launch your tail into the blue."

"But…"

"Hey, if you can't do it, I'm sure Skywarp will figure the lead-ups on his own. The kid has a natural talent for—"

"Juice me up!" Starscream hissed.

Thundercracker congratulated himself inwardly for his fast thinking. A short flight would do his Commander good. Commander's well-being, in turn, was transmitted to all warriors under his command, and thus was advantageous to the Decepticon Cause as a whole

Yep, Thundercracker told himself, almost believing it: All for the Cause.

They'd been about a third of the way through the Formations- a move specifically designed to combat combiner teams like Devastator- when, at 30 km above sea level, Starscream's engines stalled. Thundercracker came out of a reverse loop and narrowly missed slamming into his Commander as the latter plunged seawards. Thundercracker cursed and dove after Starscream.

"Skywarp- teleport and grab him!"

"Negative. Dive trajectory erratic. I can't pinpoint his coordinates," Skywarp retorted.

"Slag! Impact with surface in 0.09--"

Starscream hit the brine like Grimlock on an IQ test, sending a spray of saltwater that momentarily blinded the Seekers' sensors.

"Ouch. 'Screamer is pizza." Skywarp whistled.

"Shut it. Can you get a reading on him now?"

"Negative. My drive isn't too accurate in sub-aquatic environments."

Thundercracker cursed Earth and its eighty-percent water surface area.

"Looks like we're going fishing."

Beyond minor impact fissures, Starscream didn't seem to be damaged when they returned to the Nemesis. On Starscream's request, Skywarp teleported the trio directly inside an offshoot of the repair bay for privacy. Thundercracker ran a thorough systems analysis while Skywarp stood on lookout. He couldn't find any sources for the malfunction that Starscream insisted had caused his engines to stall.

"…I didn't spot any feathers in your rotor blades, so as far as we know, it wasn't a bird this time," he teased. When no indignant rejoinder was forthcoming, Thundercracker truly knew something was wrong.

"Chief…Did something happen up there? Something you're not telling us?"

Thundercracker shut his comm. link and glanced at Skywarp, who was amusing himself by listening in on various navy frequencies and impersonating the senders. Thundercracker cleared his vocalyzer and tried again. "C'mon Screamer, throw me a wrench here. You know you can trust me. Right…?"

"He's afraid of heights," Thundercracker confessed to Skywarp once they were back in their shared quarters.

"You mean, the Nullifier messed his perception functions too?" Skywarp asked incredulously.

Thundercracker lowered his voice a notch. "Not so loud, lug-nuts! I think it's simpler than that. Consider it. As a jet, Starscream can't land or takeoff without a runway. He can't pick himself off the ground in case something goes wrong. He can't swim. His firing aim, vision, and mobility are all severely limited. He can't even recharge on his own. He panicked, got distracted, and stalled. He said--" Thundercracker scowled as he tried to recall Starscream's exact words—"that he suddenly felt the wind go dead under his wings."

Skywarp snorted. "Sucks to be him, then. Megatron's really going to have to scrap him this time."

"Megatron's not going to find out. As far as we're concerned, nothing out of the ordinary happened this afternoon."

Skywarp transformed and grabbed Thundercracker's nosecone "Frag, no! We have a responsibility to-- I mean, he's a grounded jet, for Pit's sake-TC, we can finally be rid of that slag-heap! We actually have a chance to move up in the ranks! I can't believe you're gonna pass this up!"

"He's still our Commander. We owe him that much. As long as he doesn't enter combat, we have no obligation to mention it."

"Like frag I don't!"

Thundercracker sighed inwardly. "I hate to do this, Skywarp, but you're not giving me many options. I don't think Megatron's going to be very interested in Screamer's problem when he hears who reprogrammed the Spacebridge to materialize inside Disney World last year."

Skywarp gawked. "You wouldn't--!"

"Shockwave was vacuuming depressurized human remains for weeks."

"You can't—"

"And don't make me have to bring up the incident with the giant squid."

"But—"

"The squid, Skywarp. Think of the squid."

Skywarp abruptly shut the room lights. "Fine! Keep your dirty little secrets! Why're you defending him, anyway? You wanna get into his berth or something?"

"Don't be a protoform, Skywarp."

Honestly. Sometimes Thundercracker suspected that his wingmate's warp drive was running interference with his processors. He didn't bother waiting for Skywarp's retort before slipping offline, where dreams of murky waves and indiscernible finned forms haunted his memory banks.