A/N: It took me some time to get this done, as I wanted to make sure I got it right. But now it is ready, and I hereby present the 2nd chapter of IdF: Kaleidoscope. This chapter will be from 2 POVs. The beginning part of the chapter is set just before the opening scenes of IdF. The final part occurs a bit further on in time, and was referenced in Chapter 3. Enjoy!

A/N2: Did a little re-editing in the second part. My thanks go to my unofficial beta, Archaeopteryx Feather, for her help in cleaning this up.

Also, if anyone has suggestions for future sidestories for this series, feel free to offer.

"It's choice – not chance – that determines your destiny." – Jean Nidetch

9 million years ago – Earth's Miocene period – North Polar Region

Ah, what fun. Skyfire doesn't know what he is missing, was a certain Seeker's thought as he did a series of loops through the sky.

It had been nearly two joors since they had arrived on this organic world and separated to start scanning their respective regions as Skyfire had suggested, but Starscream had grown bored about a joor before. There was really nothing to scan in this particular area, just plenty of ice and snow, although the scans had picked up some traces of an organic substance underneath the icy plains that might be useful in the future. But other than that, and some rather odd-looking furry organic beasts that he had seen wandering around with strange bone-like appendages coming out of their faces with a contrasting long soft-tissue appendage dangling down, there was clearly nothing else of much importance or interest.

Although…he might like to study those creatures later…He had never seen anything like them before on other worlds.

The only other item of interest he had noticed was the fact this region had lots of interesting updrafts. Shortly after the boredom set in, Starscream took advantage of said discovery. They truly were amazing, buffeting him up and down, and side to side, sometimes blowing so hard that he was hard-pressed to keep up with them, struggling for control. Not only did he find the experience fun, but in many ways, the fierce winds challenged him to keep up, and that was something he truly enjoyed: a challenge.

I've done all the scanning I can here. Except for the organic traces, there's really nothing else I can find in this area that has any potential to Cybertron. This part of the world is little more than a frozen wasteland. I'll just have a little more fun before I move on. What Skyfire doesn't know won't hurt him.

A twinge of guilt entered his processor at this thought, causing him to remember the agreement he made with Skyfire about not fooling around on this world. But that twinge was quickly erased by another sharp updraft that lifted him up several miles. It seemed stronger than the previous ones, but that didn't matter. Starscream continued his play. He was having too much fun to really pay attention to the strengthening winds and darkening sky around him.

That was, until the first shards of ice struck his wings, and a sudden blast of wind nearly spun him out of the sky.

What the frag? Starscream was stunned. Where did that come from?

As he tried to regain equilibrium and altitude, Starscream turned on his long-range scanners for the first time since he had begun playing with the winds.

What the results displayed were very far from pleasant. While he had been ignoring the world around him, a storm had moved in, and judging from what the long-range scanners were showing, it was a vast one. Starscream knew he had to get out of there. Now.

But even as he made this realization, the winds picked up, harder than they had been a moment before, and blasted Starscream off-course. He struggled to get back on course, turning on his internal heaters as he did so and re-routed all of their power to his wings. As if something was laughing at his attempts, the ice came down harder, now mixing in with snow, increasing the weight on his wings. His heaters had all they could do to keep up.

Starscream, meanwhile, was trying to face down the winds as they kept nearly knocking him out of the sky. But every time he thought he was starting to make some progress in escaping the storm, a new gust would come from a different direction, and soon the ice and snow began to come down harder. Eventually, he found that his long-range scanners were no longer working. His visibility range was dropping drastically, and he knew it wouldn't be long before his short-range scanners would prove useless as well. He was on the very edge of panic as he realized the level of danger he was now in.

All because I decided to have some fun, he thought bitterly. What else could go wrong?

Almost as if in answer to his question, his internal heaters shorted and went out. Now, there was nothing between his wings and the unrelenting ice storm.

As the ice enveloped his wings, Starscream realized he was running out of time. Bitterly swallowing his pride, he finally activated his distress beacon and a moment later transmitted a message to Skyfire, informing him of his situation. If he had to deal with the lecture later, so be it. He knew he deserved one after breaking his word.

I swear, if I get out of this, I'll listen to him from now on.

"Skyfire, an ice storm has come up suddenly in my region. Can't find my way out of it. Need your help."

However, even as Starscream transmitted the message, he could hear the static on his end, and a cold sense of fear gripped his Spark, combining with the earlier panic. He was alone in the middle of a fierce blizzard, his wings freezing over, his warmers down, and he was struggling for altitude. Now, he was forced to the realization that he may have acted too late in summoning help. There was no way to know if his message had gotten through to Skyfire or if he had even detected the distress beacon, although he had the strange sense that both had gotten through. However…

For now, Starscream was on his own, and he didn't like his odds of survival at the moment.

Fighting the fear and panic in his Spark, he made one final attempt to try to fly up above the clouds, trying to ignore the weight of the ice on his wings pulling him down. After a struggle that seemed to last for joors, but was actually only a breem or two, he finally reached the clouds in spite of the winds and for a brief moment, Starscream thought he was going to make it out of the situation.

Then a lightning bolt struck his main thruster, and it began to sputter. Starscream felt his Spark seize up.

No, not now! I almost made it. Please, Primus, don't let it go out, I have to get out of here!

But it seemed that Primus was not listening to him that day. The thruster gave a final sputter, and went cold. Starscream went into a sharp plunge towards the ground.

As the ice field grew larger in his vision, Starscream felt many emotions run through his processor at lightning speed: Guilt and remorse, for disobeying Skyfire's injunction; regret, that he was leaving his partner alone to face the Council; curiosity, wondering what would happen to Cybertron and his partner after he was gone; and finally, a strange, resigned acceptance that he was not going to make it out of there after all. He felt a pang in his Spark at that thought. His impulsiveness had brought him to this point, and he deserved what was coming.

As the ice field came up fast to meet him, Starscream had time for one last thought: Slag. I really should have listened to Skyfire.

Then pain racked his systems, and he was vaguely aware of his body reflexively transforming. Blackness enveloped his processor, and Starscream knew no more as he slipped beneath the ice.

Late 19th Century Earth – Arctic Region

Aboard the frigate U.S.S. Revenge, Captain Walter Smythson was writing in his journal, a last missive of sorts in case he and his men were unable to chop their way out of the ice. As he did so, he considered the chain of events that had led them to this point.

Several weeks before, he and his men had launched from Baltimore in an attempt to find the Northwest Passage. It had been an unsuccessful venture on all counts. He had not only been unable to find the elusive seaway, they had managed to sail right into an inlet which froze over within a few days of their entering it. Since then, they had been trying to chop their way out.

Supplies were starting to run dangerously low, and Captain Smythson was starting to wonder if it would be best for some of them to try a run overland to reach help. Of course, they did have their telegraph system, but it was doubtful if they could reach anyone out here. It might be possible to route the signal from a settlement that he knew was about twenty miles from here, but still…

His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of pounding on his door.

A trifle annoyed at the individual, whoever it was, for breaking his train of thought, he gruffly called, "Come in!"

The door opened, and First Mate Jacob Simmons, entered the room. He had a very strange look on his face, an awestruck one that didn't match the personality of the man. In fact, as far as Smythson could tell, the only thing the man worshiped was the Almighty dollar. But the look on his face now, it was…Almost as if he has seen God himself, thought Captain Smythson. But he put that aside for the moment.

"This had better be good," he growled.

Simmons just stared at him with that same strange look. The Captain felt himself get even more annoyed at his First Mate and said coldly, "Unless you're carrying the news that the men have succeeded in chopping us out of the ice, or you've got a better idea for how to chop us out, then get out."

The mate finally forced the words out. "Sir, you have to come see this."

Exasperated by now, Smythson yelled, "See what? I have no time for games, man!"

The anger finally seemed to penetrate the fog Simmons was under. In an odd tone, he explained, "The men have found something interesting, sir. You need to come see it your self."

The tone and the emphasis on "interesting" piqued the Captain's curiosity. In spite of his annoyance he followed the mate out to the deck then down a makeshift gangplank and out to the ice field.

They reached the chasm where the men had been chopping, but now were just staring into the hole. Smythson followed their gazes.

His own eyes widened at what he saw.

This…this was an amazing find. No one would ever believe him if…when…they returned.

No one, except…

A smile spread across the Captain's face. Perhaps we will make it out of here alive after all…

He had a friend in Washington who worked for the government, and Smythson knew that they were always looking for ways to advance the United States as a world power. This find, would do it. It would perhaps mean his life-long silence, but he could live with that as long as he recouped the investment for this ill-fated journey. Simmons, he knew, would sell out his own mother for money, so his silence could be easily bought. As for the rest of his men…well, they were on their own.

He dragged Simmons off to the side, startling him. Simmons' surprise faded as he saw the calculating look on his captain's face.

"Simmons, I have a special assignment for you," Smythson began in a smooth tone.

"Yes, sir?" was the cautious response.

"I want you to take a sledge, a few of our remaining supplies and a couple of the men, and get to that settlement we spotted twenty miles back. I am allowing you to take the telegraph as well, and asking you to send a message immediately after you reach the settlement."

Simmons's expression changed to a devious smirk. "I'm listening, Captain."

"I want you to send a telegraph to Richard Bannister of Washington, D.C. Say you are acting on behalf of Walter Smythson, and that you and I have made a discovery which he and the government might find…beneficial…to their goals."

"And what about the men?" was Simmons' low-toned answer. He gazed shiftily at the gawkin seamen.

Smythson's answer reassured him. "What about the men? They barely speak English anyway, and have no idea the value of what they are seeing-as you and I do. The government will send men and get us out of here, and you and I will be paid handsomely for our silence. As for the crew…well, that's not our problem."

Simmons' smile echoed the one Captain Smythson wore. Without another word, he saluted and headed back for the ship.

Captain Smythson looked at the strange, otherworldly figure that lay in the pit, completely unaware of what its fate was to be.

Captain Smythson's smile grew wider, more satisfied.

Perhaps this voyage wasn't a waste after all, he thought with satisfaction as he ordered his men back to the frigate.

And no one need ever know.

Besides, it's not like anyone is looking for it.