Have you ever had an idea gnaw at your mind and not go away until you sat there and actually wrote it? That's why you, my faithful readers, are receiving an early and quick update to Trine. *pant pant pant* This all came out at ONCE, today, and I think I did okay with it. I honestly hope you guys agree. Thanks so much for the reviews and follows and favorites; it's feedback like that that helps give me the self-esteem to keep putting my crap up in public. _

Warnings for this chapter: Character death (non-canon), rather graphic descriptions of injuries, nongraphic mention of interface, mentions of noncon

Pairings: TC/Star, Hook/Bonecrusher (Structi lovin?)

Special: I borrowed Katea-Nui and I's joint OC, Eclipse, for my story just because. :D

Disclaimer: Only thing I own are the OCs and the dirty mind. xD


He knew nothing, felt nothing...and that, at least, was a blessing from Primus in and of itself. Starscream lay in stasis lock, sprawled on one of Hook's medbay berths completely unaware of his predicament and condition.

The Constructicon eyed the Seeker with a sour frown- this was almost pointless, this task to rebuild the SIC. But Megatron had ordered it, and everyone knew the results of garnering the Slagmaker's displeasure.

If, for some reason, they needed a reminder, they could always come and see Starscream as he was now.

One arm was completely loose from its socket, dangling by wires and cabling. The other arm was intact, except for the crushed fingers. Each had been shattered with an odd precision that made Hook wonder just who had done it- this wasn't Megatron's usual 'punishment'. The flier's wings were bent out of shape, one torn halfway off; the other had a dozen dents indicating that someone with large hands had gotten a bit too grabby. Hook snorted and tapped his datapad; the findings had to be a part of the official record, after all.

Starscream's legs and thrusters seemed to be mostly okay, but for the fluid stains- that could be cured with a trip to the washracks. On a second look, though, Hook swore under his breath- the Seeker's tensioner cabling at his knees had been sliced clean through. He would not be walking until it was replaced and reintegrated.

Hook then turned to where the worst damage was, and it was then that he began to feel a bit sorry for Starscream. The Seeker's inner thighs were dented, yes...dented and scratched and gouged in places. His interface panels were gone, though, revealing a spike housing that had been cunningly smashed to prohibit the release of the Seeker's spike. His valve...it didn't even look like a valve anymore. It was an energon-encrusted opening with ragged edges, still leaking energon and what appeared to be transfluid.

Hook had seen many injuries in his long, long life, as well as many atrocities. He'd committed some himself. When he looked at the ruin of Starscream's interface array, though, he felt sick. His optics flashed behind his visor and he could feel the concern from his gestaltmates through their bond. He firmly told them to mind their own business and closed the bond to a trickle before they, too, saw what he was seeing.

Starscream was blissfully unaware, though, lost in memories. Perhaps it was better that way...

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Many vorns in the past...

"Lord Starscream, I have important news for you." the messenger said, and Star looked over his shoulder, a test tube in his hand. "Do you /mind/, I'm trying to finish something here!" he groused, noting that the mech's symbol indicated that he was part of the Winglord's personal guard. Starscream wondered what his creator wanted /this/ time.

Skyfire quickly put down the datapad he was perusing and took the tube from Starscream. "Star, listen to him. I'll finish this." Starscream gave his best friend and lover a quick smile before nodding, gesturing to the messenger to come to the far end of the lab so as to not disturb the processes.

As soon as they made their way to the opposite side of the room, the messenger bowed again before speaking. Starscream raised an optic ridge at the overly formal gesture, but he didn't ask questions. He just wanted to get back to his experiment.

"My lord, your presence is required at the Spire." he said deferentially.

Starscream scowled. "You can tell old Shatterquake that I'll come when I'm finished. I'm not a youngling to be ordered about any longer, and he needs to realize that."

"My lord Starscream, it concerns Lord Shatterquake. It pains me to be the one to deliver this news, but...Lord Shatterquake was deactivated in an accident not two joor ago."

Starscream almost started to tell the messenger that he couldn't give a frag less when what he /said/ penetrated his meta. "Lord Shatterquake is /what/?"

The messenger clearly looked uncomfortable. "My lord, I am not certain of the details. There are those at the Spire who know more than I..."

Starscream trembled slightly. There was no love lost between him and his creator, but for a very long time, Shatterquake had been all he had. His carrier Dawnstar had deactivated long ago, leaving the Winglord of Vos with a youngling he didn't really know how to deal with. A succession of tutors and surrogates followed, most of which were put off by little Starscream's incisive comments and startling intellect, even at a very young age. They had been largely alone, and even though they didn't /like/ each other much, Starscream still respected his creator both as his Winglord and as a parent. The creator/creation bond wasn't as strong as some, for he hadn't sensed Shatterquake's demise, but when he thought on it and concentrated, there was an empty place in his spark where his creator once was.

"'Fire, I have to go." he called, his voice flat and emotionless. The shuttleformer looked at Starscream with concern and stride over to him. "Do you want me to-"

"No, Skyfire. I have to do this myself." Starscream said, though he privately thought that the could use the support. Skyfire wasn't precisely welcomed in the Spire, though, and Starscream didn't need to deal with /that/ on top of everything else.

Skyfire nodded. "Comm if you need me, Star. Always here for you." Skyfire bent down to kiss Starscream on the cheek, and the messenger cleared his intakes in discomfort. Star shot him a dirty look and hugged Skyfire. "I'll be back when I can." The shuttleformer nodded and released Starscream, who turned and left with the messenger, his mind filled with questions.

x.x.x.x.x.x.

When he arrived and entered the room where his creator lay, his frame grey with death, Starscream nearly purged. An accident, it was said. The accident must have involved his creator running face-first, while in root form, into a wall at his greatest speed from the looks of him. His head was all but obliterated, his wings dangling on by threads of fiber-optic cabling and wires, and the rest of him didn't look much better. Starscream bit his lip and turned to the medical staff. "What in the name of the blazing pits of Kaon happened to him?" he demanded.

"Lord Starscream, from all accounts, the late Lord Shatterquake lost control of his transformation sequences, propulsion, and flight controls simultaneously. It was nothing more than an accident." the medic said, his hands spread wide.

"Pitscrap." Starscream shot back. "There is no way that those three potentially fatal errors could occur simultaneously unless someone /engineered/ them to fail." Who had killed his creator and why?

"There was no evidence of tampering, my Lord. None whatsoever. It could have been caused by many things- an innate glitch, a power surge in his frame, his advanced age...any of that could cause system failures. You know this." The medic looked as if he truly believed what he was saying- Starscream could see that his wings proclaimed truth and sorrow at all this. He looked at Starscream and whispered something, and the young Seeker whipped his head around. "What was that?"

"So young, you are, to take on the burden."

Starscream frowned quizzically. "What burden are you referring to?"

The medic sighed. "Didn't anyone /tell/ you?"

"Tell me what? Stop being so slagging cryptic!"

"You are to undergo the Making in two joor's time." The medic gave Starscream a reassuring smile. "I will be there to assist, of course, and-"

Starscream froze. The Making? /He/ would be Winglord? That...he /couldn't/...Skyfire's mission.../his own/ mission... "No. No one asked me, and I refuse. I have a life to live, and an expedition into deep space planned in a decacycle. I refuse the Making." Starscream said somewhat petulantly.

"You cannot refuse. It's in your coding." The medic sounded shocked. "Lord Shatterquake groomed you as his replacement since /before/ you separated from Dawnstar."

The mention of his carrier made Starscream wince; he barely remembered him, except for his gentle voice singing him to recharge during the long offcycles. "Don't I have choices in my life? This is /my/ life, not Shatterquake's! He's been trying to control that since I was /sparked/, and now he's STILL doing it even though he's dead!" Starscream said, his voice rising into that nasal screech that so many teased him for.

"Star, listen to him. Vos needs a strong leader, and even more, it needs a leader who /isn't/ as insular and closed-minded as Shatterquake was." Another Seeker walked in- she was a handsome teal and grey, and larger than most femme Seekers due to her armor. Eclipse nodded at the medic and wrapped her arms around Starscream in a hug. He hugged back- Eclipse had been like a creator to him for a long time now, and he took her words to spark when he'd ignore others.

"You never did like him." Star muttered, and Eclipse shook her head. "No, I didn't. Your creator was an overblown aft, and more than once I told him that to his face so don't you look shocked over there, Triage." she said, both to the medic and to Starscream.

"What about my schooling? My expedition? Skyfire and I have been planning it for nearly a /vorn/, and we finally got approval and funding to do it!"

"Stop whining like a youngling and start looking for answers." Eclipse said, and Starscream had to smile. She never let him off easily, not even when he /had/ been a youngling. "I, personally, see no reason why you can't undergo the Making, and then go on your trip...providing you leave a qualified Regent to hold in your place while you're gone."

"They'll never allow that-"

"Starscream, how could they stop you if you're the Winglord?" Eclipse pointed out, and Starscream actually facepalmed. She was right, she was /so very/ right, and the idea made him laugh.

"I still don't like being shoved into this." he said to no one in particular."And you'll be my Regent." he said to Eclipse, who snorted.

"And here I thought that I'd quit politics vorns ago." she said, half-disgusted.

"If I don't get a choice, you don't either." Star pointed out.

"Winglord or no Winglord, I can still whip your aft into shape for being disrespectful to your elders, Starling." she said sweetly, and Starscream scowled at her use of the nickname.

"Fine, fine." Starscream said, scowling. "Lady Eclipse, would you do me the honor of standing in my place as Regent while I am offworld?" he said, complete with an overdone bow. The femme started laughing, shaking her head in assent. "'S more like it and more the way I taught you."

Starscream stuck out his glossa at Eclipse just because he could.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

"All parties are present with the requisite witnesses." Triage announced, and Starscream could feel something very close to fear settle in his tanks. What went on during a Making? The ritual itself was secret, known only to those trained to perform it and those who underwent it. Naturally, it wasn't common knowledge; Winglords didn't get replaced every vorn.

Starscream had been led to a bench and told to sit and watch and listen, and he was doing his best to do just that. His wings were raised high in ambivalence, though, and his optics were bright. Curious though Starscream was, he just wasn't certain of this. Were they just going to confer a title upon him and let him go? Were there imagecaps involved? His mind raced with possibilities.

He suddenly wished that he had a trine and then immediately regretted that, because he was with Skyfire. There could be no trine.

He started paying attention again, lest he miss something important. This was his /life/ now, after all.

There were only ten Seekers in the room, and Starscream recognized only three of them: Eclipse, Triage, and the old priest of Primus named Sparkfire. He looked at Starscream critically before offering him a single nod of respect. That surprised Starscream; he'd never been particularly religious, and his visits to the temple had always been perfunctory at best.

Oh, and Shatterquake's still form. It was also there, grey and dead upon a table that looked suspiciously like an altar. Star frowned- why did they need his creator's husk? It was more than a little grisly and he couldn't force himself to actually /look/ at Shatterquake for long.

"One has passed, and the time has come to bring a new Winglord into the song of the wind." Sparkfire intoned, and Starscream gazed at the priest, watching. "The bond a Winglord has with his people is inviolate and sacred; it cannot be torn asunder, nor can it be broken save by the death of he who holds it."

Bond? Oh /Pit/ no. Starscream stood, about to speak, and the priest stared him down, the look in his optics enough to quell even Starscream's legendary temper. Triage approached the husk of Starscream's creator and manually opened his chest, baring where his spark would have been if he were still alive. Starscream watched this, curious.

A very faint glow emanated from a place that Starscream was certain should have been darkened. His hand reached up, touching his lips, and he walked over to see exactly what the glow was. Was his creator actually alive? No, he couldn't be, not with those wounds, not with that trauma.

What was the glow?

Sparkfire spoke once more. "Young though he is, he is skilled. The people must /accept/ him or he will be rejected. The price of rejection is as it ever was."

Starscream stopped dead in his tracks. "And what is /that/?" he rasped, feeling more than a little weirded out by all this. It felt like an odd cult ritual, and Star wasn't sure that he liked it.

"If Vos does not accept you, then you will be cast out as unworthy." the priest said, and his tone was gentle. "The song of wind tears apart those who cannot master its nuances."

Starscream understood perfectly, and he felt vaguely ill at the thought. His tanks swirled uncomfortably, and his spark whirled in his chest. He stepped next to Triage to see what the medic was doing inside his deactivated creator's frame.

Inside, where the spark would have been, lay a tiny fragment of light. It had no form or mass, and it seemed to be growing dimmer with every pulse of Starscream's spark, yet it existed. He stared at in wonder, the colors shifting too quickly to call it a single color. It was all shades at once, twisting and turning into something that was more beautiful than anything Starscream had seen in his entire lifecycle. He gasped, and something welled up inside him and he /reached/ for it...and the medic let him, for this is what was supposed to occur.

The light hit Starscream and expanded, covering him with an aura that made him too bright to look upon. He felt as though he'd been gathered in the arms of every Seeker that was, all who lived. Forty-two thousand, eight hundred fifty two. That's how many Seekers lived, in Vos and elsewhere. Star hadn't realized they were so few, but he felt a strong sense of pride and solidarity, and that feeling was reinforced through the faint awareness of every other Seeker on Cybertron. The light examined Starscream, poking and prodding through his very being, and he felt something within himself expand and accept this burden/blessing, because it was then that he realized that /this/ is who he was meant to be.

Lord Starscream, Winglord of Vos.


It had been a very long night. Thundercracker couldn't recharge, not with Starscream's predicament- no, Thundercracker, call it what it is, his /defilement/, he thought- on his mind. Whenever he thought about it on more than a superficial level, he began shaking with rage. He wanted to kill them both- Megatron for setting it up, Motormaster for /doing/ it, and yet here he was, powerless and caught in the Autobot medical bay.

Thundercracker rose from the berth and hit the wall hard enough to dent it, which woke Skywarp rather rudely.

"Primus. TC, what the frag's gotten into you?" Warp whined, not yet noticing the look on his trinemate's face. "Was rechargin' pretty good for once-" Skywarp had just sat up and it was then that he saw TC's face. His optics blazed with anger, and his wings were held high, as if in preparation for battle. Skywarp could feel the excess sonic energy coalescing in the air around them and he rose, actually looking concerned for once. "TC, talk to me. What's wrong? One of the Bots frag you off?" He knew what had happened with Ratchet last night- frag, he'd felt some of it through the trine bond, and he approved even if he's never have done it himself.

"Star." Thundercracker replied succinctly. "I have to get him out of there." Skywarp frowned; usually it was always /we/. TC was sure acting possessive all of a sudden. "Megs beat him up again?" he asked, only somewhat sympathetic. Skywarp loved his trinemate like a brother, but he was under the firm impression that Star brought a lot of that on himself for disobeying orders and being a general aft to their commanding officer.

Thundercracker gave Skywarp a Look that spoke of pain and suffering, along with a touch of disgust at Skywarp's blind loyalty. That was something they didn't discuss- how much Skywarp trusted and even revered Megatron, despite what he did to their trineleader. It was then that Thundercracker carefully schooled his emotions and told his trinemate a lie. It was a lie of omission rather than an outright falsehood...but it was more than TC had done in a long time.

"He's just hurt, Sky, and I'm worried about him. Especially because we're stuck /here/."

Skywarp nodded distractedly, opening the door to their room to retrieve morning rations for them both. TC looked out of the open doorway and didn't see Ratchet- he supposed that the medic was taking some much-needed recharge. It was enough that Ratchet allowed them out of their isolation room and into the medbay proper- it showed that he trusted them not to make mischief, that he /believed/ their promise.

Thundercracker appreciated that quite a bit. It certainly helped alleviate the claustrophobia.

Skywarp returned with two cubes of fresh energon, and TC sipped at his slowly, savoring it. All too soon, he knew, they'd be back on the Nemesis consuming fuel that was barely enough to keep him functional.

"I can't feel him, TC." Skywarp said, frowning. He'd gulped his cube down in record time, not having the inclination or the patience to drink it slowly. "Don't like that at all. An' it's not like a /recharge/ can't find him, it's like he's offline or something." He gave Thundercracker a hasty look, waving a hand. "Not deactivated, just, like, knocked out."

Thundercracker decided to give Skywarp a bit more information. "He's in stasis lock, Warp."

Skywarp's optics grew wide. "/STASIS/ lock? The frag did he do to deserve somethin' like /THAT/?" Thundercracker shot his youngest trinemate a murderous glare at his insensitivity.

"Who's in stasis lock?" Ratchet had just entered the room, carrying a datapad.

"Starscream, apparently." Skywarp said, and Thundercracker could almost feel Ratchet's optics boring holes through his plating. "Guess he really fragged off Lord Megatron again, tried to off him or somethin', I don't know...you'd think he'd learn not to after the hundredth beating, but Stars, he's stubborn." Skywarp explained, and Thundercracker gave Skywarp an incredulous glare before turning on one thruster heel and exiting the room before he did something he'd regret forever.

Ratchet's cerulean optics fixed themselves on Skywarp. "No one, no matter what, deserves to be beaten by his superior officer. Punishment, I understand, but it makes no sense to continually slag your Air Commander for each and every thing that goes wrong. Skywarp, you have a lot to learn. Open your fragging optics and /see/ for a change." By the time Ratchet finished, he was nearly yelling. The black and violet Seeker was staring at the medic, optics almost comically wide, his wings trembling at the tips.

Ratchet turned and exited the room in much the same way as Thundercracker had, the door clicking shut behind him.

The blue Seeker had his back to Ratchet, his wings literally shaking, his hands holding on to the edge of a medberth tightly enough to dent the railing. "My own trinemate." Thundercracker said softly, knowing Ratchet was listening. "How can he be so blind?"

"Loyalty's like that." Ratchet said. "It can make you overlook things...and as you said, Skywarp doesn't see the things that you do. Starscream hides it from him, doesn't he?"

"...Yes." Thundercracker admitted. "He said it was to spare him. He tries to do it with me, but..." He shrugged one shoulder. Ratchet understood completely; Starscream couldn't stifle their sparkbond.

"He'll see one day, Thundercracker." Ratchet said, hoping that it wasn't a lie. He hesitated before speaking again, but he felt it was the right thing to do. "You could...retrieve him and come back here. Prime gives asylum even to high-ranked Decepticons if they truly wish to change. And if we had him here, Perceptor and Wheeljack and I can begin seeing about his processor."

Thundercracker turned around and faced the smaller medic, his wings now stiff with emotion. "I...Starscream would never become an Autobot. I am not certain that /I/ would ever become an Autobot either. The name is tainted with the fluids of thousands of Seekers, and I-"

"You don't have to take our oaths, doofus." Ratchet said acerbically. And Thundercracker wondered idly what a 'doofus' was. "You would just have to behave...much as you have been doing since you've been here, and not betray us to the 'Cons."

"It's that simple, is it?" TC said skeptically. "Nothing is /that/ easy."

"No, it wouldn't be easy." Ratchet said truthfully. "It would take a lot of work to get people here to trust you. You would have to earn that, and that's something nobody but you can do. You would likely be forced to give up your weapons, and for a time you would likely have to wear a constant monitor beacon." When he saw the look on Thundercracker's face at that, he gave the Seeker a falsely sweet grin. "Oh, can it, Seeker. At least you'd get to /fly/."

Thundercracker had to admit that that didn't sound all that bad. And Starscream might be safe...

"They wouldn't execute us for war crimes?" That was a very real worry; the Elite Trine had committed many, /many/ atrocities during the war in the name of the Decepticon Empire.

Ratchet sighed. "I can't guarantee any of this. The only person who can is Prime. I just know what our procedures are, and I feel I am honor-bound to put the idea out there." He gave Thundercracker a serious look.

"Thundercracker, you're /not/ a Decepticon. You may wear their sigil and fight their battles, but it's not in your spark to be as most of them tend to be- cold, ruthless killers who are hellbent on taking all that they can before leaving in a blaze of destruction. You're different. And I think you know that, and that's why you are the way you are."

"You have /honor/."

Thundercracker felt something well up in his spark at that- pride and determination. What Ratchet had said...it might be true. He wasn't certain yet, but the possibility existed.

He gave the medic a smile, a /real/ smile, and Ratchet returned it.

Skywarp, however, frowned deeply as he stood, watching and listening from the open door of their temporary quarters. He...didn't like this. He didn't like this one bit.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Optimus Prime sat in his command chair, having commed the Nemesis just two kliks previously. Megatron was taking his sweet-aft time getting to the command center, Prime reflected. It just went to show how /little/ he cared for his people. The Seekers had been 'guests' of the Ark for five solar cycles now; if the situation had been reversed, Prime would have started negotiations upon realizing one of his mechs had been captured.

Finally, the viewscreen flashed on, revealing the visage of his nemesis. Bucket-Head certainly was an appropriate nickname; Megatron's helm /did/ look like one of those steel buckets the humans used for various projects.

"Ah, Prime. So /good/ to hear from you." Megatron sneered in his raspy voice. He never referred to Optimus by his given name, it was always Prime. Optimus wondered why that was, but he'd never gotten a satisfactory answer.

"Cut the false pleasantries, Megatron. I have two of your Elite Seekers."

"Elite /fools/, but yes, I would rather they be /here/ instead of /there/." the warlord said dismissively. "I suppose you actually /want/ something in exchange for them."

Optimus Prime steepled his fingers and sighed, keeping his temper in check. It was never easy to do with his brother...

"Unhindered usage of the spacebridge for a decacycle and a cease-fire for just as long." Prime said. It was a longshot, but he figured he'd better go high or go home. There was the off-chance that Megatron would agree to it, after all.

"You want /what/? Keep them at that price!" Megatron snarled, acting as if he were going to cut the comm. That behavior was /very/ familiar to Prime, though, so he just sat back and waited it out, his battle mask a blessing in times like these.

"Fine, we will." Prime shrugged. "The Aerialbots seem /very/ interested in the idea of your Seekers' attack patterns and specs...perhaps we can use that to upgrade our own air force." That was a calculated falsehood; Prime would never subject a prisoner to the kind of processor scan that that would require, and Megatron knew that /he/ wouldn't do it...but he also knew that Prime's head of Special Ops had /no/ such compunctions and would do it in a sparkpulse if it'd give the Bots an advantage that they so desperately needed.

Megatron actually snarled, getting more angry by the moment. The Seeker at the comm center (Dirge, if Prime remembered right) looked like he wanted to be anywhere but where he was, and even Soundwave had taken a few steps back, ostensibly to examine a console that was /much/ farther away.

"Both of your demands for an Earth week and not a nanoklik more." Megatron counteroffered, and Prime had to control his emotions very carefully. This was a lot more than he'd expected to get, and he couldn't afford to seem /too/ eager.

He wasn't letting this get away, though, so he made his decision. He nodded firmly at Megatron. "Deal accepted. When and where do you want your mechs?"

"Meet me at the salt flats in exactly one joor." Megatron said, glaring at the Prime. "The cease-fire begins the moment that my Seekers are returned to me."

Optimus nodded again; that sounded fair, more fair than he expected. Still, he'd be on his guard. He himself would escort the fliers along with a hand-picked team of mechs.

"I have much to do to prepare for this. Optimus Prime out." he said, cutting the comm before Megatron had a chance to speak again. Prime didn't want to hear the mech's voice again; he was getting a massive processor-ache already.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

"All right, you two. Clear out. Prime's taking you to go back to the Nemesis in a few." Ratchet called out, rousing Skywarp from a brief nap and Thundercracker from staring out the window. The need to fly was almost palpable, and he knew that he'd be airborne soon due to Ratchet's words.

Both Seekers exited the room and were surprised to see Ratchet holding four cubes of energon, two for each of them. "Drink up. I'm not gonna be accused of starving you two while you were here." he said gruffly, and Thundercracker had to smile at that. Skywarp, true to form, merely gulped both down and dispersed the fields without a second thought...or a word of thanks. Thundercracker gave his trinemate a withering look that Skywarp didn't register and he turned to Ratchet.

"Thank you, Ratchet. For everything." he said, meaning every single word.

"Told you it was just my job." Ratchet said, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Don't need thanks for doing my work."

"It was how you went about it that mattered, Ratchet." Thundercracker said, giving Ratchet's shoulder a friendly caress. "I will...take what you have said into consideration." he said, too softly for Skywarp to hear.

"I know you will." Ratchet said simply. "Now get out of my medbay and let me get some real work done, will you?" The medic snorted and turned around just as Jazz and Bumblebee walked into the medbay.

"Here t'pick up a couple'a wandering Seekers, Ratch." Jazz said as a greeting. Ratchet didn't even /look/ at the two Autobots, only jerking a thumb at TC and Skywarp in silence. Jazz gave Ratchet an odd look but motioned for the fliers to come with him.

Skywarp sighed. "Thank Primus we're gettin' away from all this slagging ORANGE." he remarked, his wings twitching in anticipation of flight. Thundercracker merely nodded, curious about Ratchet's reaction to them leaving. He though about it, and realized that he would...miss talking to the medic. Maybe it was the same for Ratchet. TC didn't know for sure.

Skyfire waited outside, as he was to be their transport to the meeting place. Skywarp opened his mouth to say something that would have undoubtedly been incredibly rude, but Thundercracker glared at him, sending a firm denial through the trine bond which actually made Skywarp stop, though he /did/ pout a bit over it.

Optimus Prime sat across from Thundercracker, and he gave the blue Seeker a significant look. From all accounts, Thundercracker was /not/ the loyal Decepticon most thought him to be; intel suggested that he was a 'Con only because his trinemates were. He /was/ fiercely devoted to his trine- on the few occasions when he /had/ shown proper Decepticon-like violence, it had been the result of someone harming one of his trinemates.

Thundercracker similarly looked at Optimus Prime. Was it true, was /this/ Prime was different, despite the fact that he carried all previous Primes within him? Did he honestly care about his mechs' well-being, or were they simply cannon fodder like most of the 'Cons were to Megatron?

Did he abuse his officers just because he could? Did his SIC spend as much time in medbay as in the briefing room?

These questions and more whirled through TC's meta as they finally landed with a gentle 'thunk'.

Skywarp and Thundercracker were escorted out of Skyfire, though this was largely a formality at this point. Once all his passengers had exited, the shuttleformer transformed as well, his size making him a formidable deterrent all by himself.

Megatron was already there, along with the Conehead trine, Onslaught, and Blast Off. He stood there sneering at his two wayward Seekers, and Skywarp's wingtips drooped just a little at the very obvious displeasure of his commanding officer.

TC didn't really give a damn, if he was being honest with himself.

Jazz took the handcuffs off and then offered each Seeker a code-chip. "This will remove the inhibitor placed upon your flight subroutines." he said solemnly, and both Seekers looked wary enough that their leader just snarled. "Get /on/ with it, that's standard procedure!"

They'd never been captured long enough to have this happen, so it was new. TC sent a wordless pulse of reassurance to Skywarp as he inserted the chip, which his antivirus proclaimed was clean and just what Jazz had said it was. His flight controls were green for go, and by the look on Skywarp's face, his were as well.

Prime just looked at the Seekers, always feeling a bit sad at times like these. He wished each time that their prisoners would see that the way that they lived on the Nemesis was wrong, that they'd stay and at least become Neutrals. Without that, there was no chance for Cybertron to become whole again.

Skywarp actually laughed, his thrusters firing already. "Lord Megatron, permission to fly back home?"

Megatron actually seemed to /think/ about it, and TC scowled at his commander, determined to fly whether he liked it or not. The silver mech finally nodded, glancing at the other 'Cons.

"Decepticons, to the Nemesis." he said coldly, his optics sliding over the two Elite Trine members in a way that made Thundercracker's tanks roil, even as full as they were.

Skywarp didn't notice. He was far too busy getting himself into the air, and Thundercracker sighed deeply, following him. His ambivalence and worry kept him from enjoying his first flight in five cycles, though, and he worried for what he would find once he stepped into medbay to see Starscream.

He didn't worry for himself, of course.

The flight back was uneventful, and Thundercracker entered the tower ahead of the others. Skywarp was still happily doing loops and twirls in the air, overjoyed to be in the sky and trusting that Thundercracker would check on their trineleader and let Skywarp know what was going on. TC wasn't sure that he wanted Skywarp there, anyway, not with what he feared had happened.

The medbay doors slid open to admit the blue Seeker, and he was greeted by the large and unlovely form of Mixmaster rising to block his path.

"You broken? No? Then get the frag out." the Constructicon spat.

"Frag off." Thundercracker advised. "My trineleader is in there and I am /going/ to see him." His tone indicated that 'no' was not an acceptable answer.

"No visitors. That comes from higher up than you, ya know." Mixmaster said, smiling gleefully.

"I don't particularly care." The Seeker's deep voice was soft, but inside he felt a bit of desperation well up. "Do you like your audials and your plating?"

"Huh? What kind of question is /that/?"

Thundercracker continued in that same silky voice. "You like to experiment, I hear. How about /I/ experiment for a bit and see what my sonics can do to an obstinate Constructicon in an enclosed area." His expression was flat and his optics cold. Mixmaster saw this and took a step back; he'd seen the results of seriously torquing Thundercracker off, and it /wasn't/ pretty.

"Uh, no thanks, I'm good." he said weakly.

"Then /get the slag out of my way/."

Mixmaster hurriedly stepped aside, but he sent a warning through the gestalt bond to Hook. He wasn't gonna be happy about this, not one bit. Hook sent back a /very/ irritated pulse that warred with the arousal he was feeling; the crane was interfacing with Bonecrusher and wasn't planning on stopping. What could Thundercracker do in a joor with a stasis-locked Seeker?

Mixmaster shrugged and went back to the television set he'd set up in the far corner of the hangar-bay; he'd done his duty, and frag if he was going to include getting sonic blasted on his to-do list.

Thundercracker approached the berth that had been placed against the far wall, away from the entrance. At least Hook had done that much, TC reflected...and then he got a good look at exactly what had happened to Starscream. His jaw dropped as he cataloged each and every dent, every scratch and scrape, everything that marred the once-beautiful plating that Thundercracker loved to touch.

He looked almost dead, and if not for the feeling of him in Thundercracker's spark, he would think that he was just by the look of him. Starscream was in sorry shape, and Thundercracker's temper flared even /more/ when he realized that no one had even bothered to clean the Air Commander up. He was still covered in Motormaster's transfluid. Thunderracker's hand shook as he unsubspaced a cloth that had been soaked in solvent, and it shook even more as he began to gently clean this evidence of the assault from his trinemate...his /bondmates's/ plating.

He didn't even care who was listening. "He's going to pay, Star." TC whispered, wiping gently around a gouge that went almost as deep as the protoform. "Killing is too good for him. I can't believe...Star..." He forced himself to keep control of his emotions, because he knew he /wasn't/ alone in here. Others would notice his care and remark about it, but that could be explained away. If he were weak enough to show too much, though... The threats were expected. The desire for revenge encouraged. The love?

That was to be cast out at all costs.

Thundercracker refused to do that, and it was then that he knew what he had to do. He took a shuddering breath as he gazed down at the slack face of his trineleader, glancing around to see if anyone was watching. No one was, as far as TC could see, so he ran his hand down the undented side of Starscream's dark face, the tenderness in the gesture unmistakeable. "I will help you, Star, I swear this on my spark." he said softly, and then he was shocked as another voice followed his own. A visor gleamed in the dim light, and Thundercracker squinted, trying to see who it was.

"I'm going to help Star too." the mech said.