This shouldn't be that difficult. Intake, exhaust, lift the hand and knock the secret pattern.

Knock knock knock

knock-knock

The monitor blazed to life and the countenance she faced did not appear any less incendiary.

"WHAT?" he snarled, optics brightening and lowering in a flash.

Just say it. "Arkvander sent me."

"FRAGGIT! That heap of slag!" More optic flashing, to the point where Lyra wondered if he were short-circuiting. It wouldn't be much of a surprise.

Difficult is the flashback of a similar situation, where she was completely replete and hemorrhaging, her brother a very pale shade of gray. She had to rise above this, though, or all of what she'd done for this information would be for naught.

"He-"

"Forget it, honey, we're not in the market for any more 'rental equipment.' Have a nice day." *Blip*

Da FRAG? She banged on the door again, her own temperature rising. She was ignored.

"I'm NOT a prostitute!" she yelled, at nothing that would believe her. The door remained obdurately taciturn. "I need to find Starscream and you're the only ones who know anything!"

The monitor was quiet. The door was not. It banged, it rattled, it creaked open. A lone dark green hand motioned her inside.

"Don't touch anything, don't talk to anyone, follow me," it commanded. As she squeezed herself in, the hand remained in front of her. "Weapons."

She glanced at him. Dark green replacement parts, yellow, brownish black accents; insect-like, which explained the usage of that particular casual nickname towards her. "No."

"Don't lie to me, honey, we all know you have 'em-"

"I said NO, as in 'no way in Cybertron am I giving you anything of mine you can use against me later,' asshole!" Earth curses were sometimes the best means of exhibiting your frustration without truly insulting individuals in which you still had to trust...barely trust.

He laughed. "You want to get any further, you comply."

"If I take a weapon out I'm using it, and as you've already figured, I'm built for speed and hiding, so if I shoot you, that'll be the end of it. So 'no.' That's all you get. You can throw me out, but it'll be hard to do if I find a way past you."

He huffed and it sounded like a deep buzz. "Mercuria, get your aft down here and EXPLAIN some things to this glitch. I'm done with her."

Mercuria? Really? A familiar face! Lyra burst into a relieved smile. PLEASE let it be her!

It was indeed, her brother's former flame! But...wow. The gorgeous silver had been tarnished, to keep her from being spotted. Battle damage dotted her and made what used to be stunning now seem sad. Her permanently affixed frown did not waver, either. "YOU?! What are you doing here?"

Another inhalation. She could do this! "You know where Starscream is. I'm here to find him."

She hadn't expected laughter. It kept going, like a wave of sound reverberating in an echo chamber, over and over again, never ceasing.

"How exactly is that so hilarious?" she demanded, more glad than ever that she hadn't relinquished her weapons.

"Starscream is dead!"

It wasn't an ancient name, but it sounded that way all the same: Aernaroth.

"What does it mean?" she asked, watching him as he carefully reloaded the blasters into their holsters.

"It means mind your own business," he snapped, closing the holster box lid and turning back to the rest of the empty firearms. "Don't you have a hallway or twelve or score to patrol?"

These Cybertron refugees that were aiding in the construction of Moon One were a surly lot. Had she been this way?

"Time off for good behavior," she replied, sliding off of the large container she'd been perched open while observing. "Do you need help with those Deceptitraans?"

"No. Your hovering is really annoying."

Well, oops. The Autobots on Earth had been friendly to her -once they stopped hating her. Not this guy. Some situations can't be replicated, she supposed. Especially with a Seaspray look-alike that seemed bitter he wasn't on the water.

"Guess you don't want to be friends," she commented.

"I do not. Have a nice day." With that, he turned back to his soldering, completely immune to the idea of her presence.

Walking out into the hallway with its noticeably darker lighting made her miss Starscream again. Starscream...that was a mistake that kept repeating in her mind. She'd been shoved into obscurity because of her perfidy, helping him instead of being loyal to the Autobots, and it had been Optimus Prime alone who had deemed her worthy of a second chance...far far away from any of them. Cliffjumper was a decent boss but he trusted everyone on here about as far as he could throw them, so there was far too much supervision for the few workers scattered on Moons One and Two.

Speaking of which...her communicator demanded she get back to watching the halls for spies. Buzzsaw and Laserbeak had ruined any sense of safety on earth, and she was paying the consequences.

"How did you get out of Unicron?"

That had been the main question in her tribunal. Rodimus Prime, in his newness, allowed a lot of power-hungry Autobots to fill in for positions that were not even necessary.

There was a story...she'd missed Laserbeak and it had led to the attack on the ship headed towards Earth, Cliffjumper had her thrown in the brig for it about ten cycles before that horrific abomination smashed both Moons into bite-sized pieces and when he'd exploded it had set her free, and she'd turned invisible to hitch a ride on Aernaroth's corpse as it fell to Cybertron to avoid being detected by enemy radar. After that she hid in various warehouses until she'd heard of the Autobot victory and came forward to get a job, leading to her arrest, thanks to Cliffjumper-

She was found not guilty of Desertion but stripped of her status and cast off with the other destitute neutrals and non-military Decepticons.

"I've been in this situation before," she thought, uselessly. She hadn't been alone that time. Now, looking around, it didn't appear that there were too many individuals seeking company.

There were small tribes of people around her in this alley, clumped together, huddled over small energon cubes, all looking hostile and angry. A fight had broken out between a few. All she had heard was that the Decepticon army had been decimated and cast off to Charr. Was Starscream all right?

Only one way to find out.