Fandom: Transformers G1
Pairing:
Rating:
Codes: Het
Summary:

Wanderer's Home acr 2 pt 26: POW Starscream

"Quit bitching, both of you," Starscream snapped at his trine as they made an all-too-familiar path across the storm-filled coastal sky in alt mode. He'd be damned to the Pit if he was going to let the pair of them ruin the only good part of his day.

"There's no good reason to be out here in this weather!" Thundercracker protested. "Nothing's in the air, nothing's going to be, and if we fire our blasters at anything beneath these clouds we'll get blasted before our targets do!"

"Then go back to base!" Starscream snarled at them furiously. "Let me enjoy the sky."

"Gladly," Thundercracker muttered, he and Skywarp both breaking off to get out from under the ominous clouds as quickly as they could without a second thought for their Air Commander or his half-suicidal desire to fly in even the worst storms this disgustingly wet planet could throw at them.

Even before the pair's engines faded from his audio, Starscream had forgotten about their irritating chatter as the wind across his perfectly shaped, thin wings soothed him. Out here, alone on patrol, he could easily forget the almost ornly beatings he received from Megatron, the humiliation he suffered to keep his rank, the frustrations of never being good enough for those he wanted to impress ... no, out here with just the wind and open sky around him, he knew a few moments of peace deep in his processor.

Deeper still, he knew it was the only thing that kept him even remotely sane against the feedback the Forge had created in his systems to perfect the warrior body he commanded.

He'd wondered, at times, if it would be possible to return to normal, even if he wanted to. Some days, he almost did - it was becoming increasingly obvious that his power wasn't about to win him the command position he deserved. It would take Megatron meeting an unfortunate demise instead, and he wasn't having the best of luck arranging for one.

His thoughts were distracted when somebody opened fire on him. Cursing his sensors, he dove, pulling into a roll to find out who it was - though he had a feeling he already knew. Not many on this backwards planet used a rail gun.

::Leave me alone!:: he snarled at his attackers when a second burst nearly took out his engines. ::I have no time for your stupidity.::

::And I have little for your continued escapes,:: Ezara sounded less irate than her words as her jet mode exploded out of the trees behind him, Whippoorwill on her wing and fire still coming from two positions below.

Wonderful. The big one was probably on the ground for the moment, but no telling how long she was going to stay there.

"So the Autobots are doing their own ambushes now?" He said, twisting around to fire on them briefly before he made speed for the clouds. Thundercracker was right about one thing - firing under a storm was suicide. He just hoped that they didn't realize that yet.

"Not Autobots. Tezita," she replied as she powered past him and the little one staid right on his tail.

Neither seemed concerned as their blasters drew lightning right into them. Ezara seemed downright delighted in the storm as she flipped around and dove towards him, targeting his main body.

The part of him that was always calculating odds and searching for reasons objected. Targeting his wings made far more sense.

Of course, it was also harder for him to dodge shots aimed at his main body. He went into one of the low clouds, punching through it as quickly as he could after a thunderbolt, turning back towards base. His sensors warned that the other two had the air pursuit a fraction of a nanoklik before a firestorm of pain lanced through his body from three directions. Two from blasters to his main body, but it was the rail gun to his engines that hurt the most. It wasn't enough damage to force him to land, but it was enough to make him far too open to Ezara and that little dusty red demon that was her new wingbot.

He transformed and headed for the ground and the thick forest land just in from the coast in the foothills. If he could get some cover, maybe he could lose them - skycover apparently wasn't going to do him any good. Why did Primus hate him so today?

He touched down, and only stood straight when a large mass impacted, knocking him to the ground and rolling with him as they crashed through trees and down a slope into a small waterway.

When his optics focused he really couldn't make himself be surprised to see Ezara's base form on top of him, pinning him in the water. It was the pressure on his mental shields as she attacked that had his focus though. He blocked off as much of his mind as he could, slamming his fist into her, trying to knock her back, only to find fits pass smoothly threw her body with no more resistance that it would have through sand.

~It's time we finish this fight,~ she growled directly into his mind with more power than he remembered her having.

~Fine then!~ He replied angrily, opening his mind to her, exposing her directly to the raw chaos and energy in his own, hoping to disrupt her focus enough to get her off of him, or even claim the advantage. All he felt was the pure predator slam into the chaos he offered and consume it, draining his energy faster than Megatron did.

The sudden drain put him into shock, and he barely had the time to be startled by her reaction to the turmoil inside him before she'd sucked his systems absolutely dry. His optics flickered, then dulled as he shut down to preserve his life.

"Remind me not to piss her off," Caurun murmured to no one as he stepped up to pick their catch up and haul him back to the Ark when Ezara waved him off.

With a single motion she stood and flipped the Seeker over to his chest. Two quick slices from a blade that was barely visible and white wings came off, tainting the stream with trickles of energon and internal fluids.

"Now let's take him home," she subspaced his wings as Caurun transformed and let Skjöldur load their crippled prisoner inside.

"Jazz, have you seen Ezara?" Optimus asked as he approached the SpecOp chatting with Ratchet and Prowl, neither of whom looked pleased.

"She went out flying with Caurun and her Guard," he answered easily.

"They just requested clearance to enter the Ark," Prowl added after a moment. "Red Alert indicated she sounds jubilant."

"She'd better have just enjoyed the trip," Jazz muttered, shaking his head.

"You don't know what she went out to do?" Optimus asked him, surprised, as they started for the opening to the Ark. "You're slipping."

"Out to the coast, along the shore to the Sound and back down along the interior side of the Rockies," Jazz summarized the planned trip. "She took enough firepower with her I wonder if she didn't go hunting instead."

"Hunting?" Ratchet sounded sick.

"Cons," Jazz shook his head. "You aren't going to be needed, Ratchet. One of them would bring it up if there had been injur... oh Primus," his voice dropped to a whisper when he saw Caurun land with a wingless, unconscious Starscream over his shoulder and energon leaking down his frame from the Seeker's wing-joints.

"You were saying I wouldn't be needed?" Ratchet grumbled, moving to the head of the group, going out to check on Starscream's condition.

"Well, none of us were injured," he managed before his optics locked on Whippoorwill with a glare.

She shrugged. "Four to one, hardly dangerous."

"I know what I'm doing," Ezara scowled at Ratchet. "His self-repair systems closed the leaks in a klik."

"Was he offline before, or after, you ripped the wings off?" He asked her irritably, double-checking the work.

"I did not rip his wings off," she answered, crossing her arms and glaring at the medic. "He's barely been hit. I knocked him out with a power drain, not damage. Then I cut his wings off cleanly."

"Why bring him here?" Jazz asked, glancing between the hunting party and their prey.

"He is the Decepticon SiC," Ezara looked at him with a deceptively mild expression. "I figured you might get something useful out of him before Whippoorwill and I work him over."

"Get the basic repairs done, then I'll work with him," Jazz told Ratchet. With a quick glance at Ezara, Caurun walked with the CMO to Med-bay without a word.

"Just how do you plan on 'working him over'?" Optimus asked her.

"That falls under things you don't want to know," she told him with a gentle smile. "Same as with Jazz and Whiplash. I won't permanently damage him," she consented without being asked, earning a surprised reaction from Whippoorwill, but nothing more.

"That's a change from your usual attitude towards him," Optimus observed. "What brought it on?"

"I'm listening to you too much," she shrugged, though there wasn't any malice in her voice. "And maybe he deserves better," she added much more quietly, looking down the corridor where Ratchet and Caurun had disappeared with her prisoner with a solemn expression.

"It's possible," he agreed. "It's just good to hear you admitting it," he added, squeezing her shoulder lightly.

The smile she gave him was small and almost sad, with a touch of warning that he did not want to ask for details. With a slight nod she went inside, no doubt to find her prisoner and make sure he didn't go anywhere.

With a light touch he got Whippoorwill to wait briefly. "Where are his wings?"

"In her subspace. They'll be on the wall by morning," she said before hurrying to catch up with her charge.

Starscream on-lined slowly, the process of post-beating repair all too familiar to him. Yet it wasn't Megatron who'd beaten him this time, and he wasn't on the Nemesis.

He silently checked his systems without moving. Ratchet had done his usual perfect work. Nothing ached, like when Hook and Scrapper fixed him.

He was standing, secured arm and leg spread out. It was as vulnerable a position as possible. Jazz would either be watching him now, or would be in shortly to question him.

A single red line scrolled across his vision, followed by dozens more and the Seeker stiffened. A gasp escaped his vocalizer as his processor scrambled desperately to comprehend it.

He didn't hurt.

It couldn't be true.

"It's true," another all-too-familiar voice spoke in the darkness.

With a shudder the Seeker relinquished his efforts to feign being off-line and powered his optics up to take in his cell - standard issue Autobot - and the speaker - standard issue Autobot Intel officer.

What was standing behind Jazz was anything but anything but standard issue however, and made his energon run cold.

Ezara was relaxed, her back against the wall. She was flipping a glowing blue-white blade as long as her forearm, absently playing with it while her optics were locked on him. Despite the posturing, he was sure she was more than willing to use it on him again, and with less care than in taking her trophy.

Behind her was the monster that took a high-power hit from Megatron's fusion canon square on and then shot back. He couldn't help but think of Soundwave when he looked at her; emotionless, solidly build and hiding behind mask and visor.

The little flitting demon was there too, but standing just behind and to one side of the Autobot.

None of it was good news for him.

"Who," he focused on the only one he was facing that didn't hate him.

"Ezara," Jazz answered, stepping forward with well-trained grace and confidence. "They're on her wall."

"Isn't that enough?" the Seeker glared at her, his red optics glowing brightly. "If you've come to gloat you have no idea..." his voice cut off when his memory banks supplied the fact that not only did she know exactly who set the standard, but what that standard was.

Ezara smirked at him.

"They're just onlookers for now," Jazz brought Starscream's train of thought screeching back to the moment. "I think we both know just how much it's in your best interests to keep it that way."

"She can't do anything worse than what I've survived," Starscream sneered at his captors.

"Care to bet?" Ezara nearly purred.

"You're an Autobot, and I'm an Autobot prison," he snapped. "I know..."

"Then where's my Autobot insignia?" she asked mildly, pushing off from the wall and giving him a slow turn to show off her intricate paintjob, but also make it abundantly clear that her allegiance to the Autobots was not that strong. "You're my prisoner, Starscream. I'm just giving Jazz and Whippoorwill first crack at you as a courtesy for supplying the bars."

"And maybe, if'ya give me somethin' good, I'll be the only one ta interrogate ya," Jazz suggested, already pleased that he had the unusual leverage of something the Seeker seemed honestly afraid of.

"I have nothing to tell you," he spat. "My trine will get me out."

"Skywarp can't," Ezara chuckled softly. "He's blocked from the Ark now."

"We've got an energy field up," Jazz confirmed. "Takes a lot t'run though - which means you've got a time limit. When Prime notices th'drain, you go over t'Ezara so we get t'learn what y'know before we're called off. How long y'think it'll take?" He asked Starscream, stepping up to his side.

The scientist the Seeker had once been knew the answer almost immediately, but the warrior he was growled.

"You're going to have to do better than that, Autobot," Starscream snapped, only to stiffen when Jazz touched him and initiated a link.

"Neural inhibitor. You're as open as when she brought you in," he said patiently.

"I will never tell you anything," he snarled, struggling in vain to pull away from Jazz, or at least to put some kind of defenses in order around the important parts of his memory and processors.

"Have you ever had Linejack go through your skull, Starscream?" Jazz asked him. "You know what that feels like? Did you ever hear that he was one of the ones who taught me?" He insinuated himself into Starscream's processors.

~You've got a better chance with me than you do with her, and you know it. Megatron doesn't care if he gets you back.~

The Seeker stiffened, struggled again, but even though he wouldn't, couldn't, admit it, he knew Jazz was telling the truth.

~What ... what do you want?~ Starscream finally asked, still fighting the neural inhibitors and the other's presence in his mind. ~What is worth my life to her?~

~What are these?~ Jazz asked him, transmitting the images he'd seen from what Ezara had gotten before knocking him out. ~What are they, what are they for, and how long before they're functional?~

~Your word, Autobot, that I'll be an Autobot prisoner?" he focused on what was important at the moment.

~My word, Starscream,~ Jazz agreed to the terms, even though he knew he could force the intel out of the jet.

~It's a space bridge, a big one for big cargo shipments,~ Starscream's mental voice dropped a couple octaves and came from the scientist he repressed more often than not. ~He wants it active within ten local days.~

~Why? What cargo is Megatron shipping that's that big, and that urgent?~ Jazz demanded.

~I don't know,~ Starscream answered truthfully. ~He doesn't tell me slag. I just know he's even bitchier than usual about it getting done.~

~Have you noticed the irregularities in your processors?~ Jazz asked him, suddenly switching the topic. ~The power fluctuations?~

~Since when?~ Starscream looked at him warily.

~Before you were captured. Likely since the Forge. Part of the impact of its redesign process.~

~I'm aware of it's effects, yes,~" the Seeker grew curious. ~It's the price of perfecting the warrior.~

~It's the price of tying your brain, Spark chamber, and everything else directly into your weapons - the price of connecting them to an inherently unstable power supply,~ Jazz pointed out. ~Is it a price you wanted to pay, for what you got from it? You built your Nullifier yourself, we know that much.~

The silence in Starscream's mind was somewhat surprising to Jazz. He'd expected a flurry of activity, not the blank look as the Seeker struggled to put to words something beyond thinking.

Eventually he lowered his head in defeat, the only outward sign the conversation was taking place.

~You wouldn't understand,~ he answered, a truly bitter edge to his thoughts along with the fire, borderline insanity and hatred Jazz was used to.

~Y'might be surprised,~ Jazz told him. ~We're trying to find a way to fix it. To stop the constant flux and distortions. Have you ever tried anything like that?~

He laughed, though it was anything but a happy sound. ~Of course not you idiot. That would undo the useful effects too.~

~The useful effects that turned you into Megatron's whipping boy,~ Jazz told him bluntly. ~That made your natural genius secondary to your ability to be a living weapon, and turned you into his fourth in command. And don't bother arguing the point - everybody knows Shockwave and Soundwave both outrank you.~

Starscream growled, but didn't refute him outright.

~Even if it did, I'm still somebot now. My 'genius' was never worth anything to anyone,~ he snapped.

~That's not true, and you know it,~ Jazz countered, his voice dropping to a nearly seductive tone. ~You may have hidden what he really was from Megatron, but I look for such things.~

~I don't know what you're babbling about Autobot.~

~Skyfire,~ Jazz answered the accusation.

The Seeker froze, mind and body, at a name he'd managed to stop thinking even in private.

"How ... how do you know that name?" he whispered, trying to conceal how shaken it made him. The ache in his Spark and memories, good and painful, that had been long suppressed erupted into his consciousness out of his control and made him squirm.

~I know it all, Starscream,~ Jazz reminded him gently. ~Secrets are hard to keep from a spy, and harder to keep from a good medic.~

He looked down at Jazz, his body trembling as he fought to put down the memories of before he'd marked his wings - his missing wings - that were flooding his processor. It all made the spy watching it with him almost insignificant. Almost.

~You were Spark-bound, a very long time ago. Knowing that, it was not difficult to work out who,~ Jazz continued to the shaking mind he was woven into.

"Stop it!" Starscream screeched, thrashing ineffectually against his restraints. "He's dead! They're both dead!" he raged in defiance. "I was nothing before the Forge!"

"Perceptor still talks about your accomplishments," Jazz continued, backing out into the physical realm. "What's left of that mind now, Starscream? How much of it are you losing to the fact that you can't think straight?"

"More than I had left before the Forge," he hissed, still trembling. His red optics glowed brightly, all trace of restraint and sanity gone from him, his cooling fans cycling fast. "If you know about him you know what he left me with."

"And you think he'd have wanted you to do all of this, because you didn't want to deal with losing him?" Jazz shook his head. "Have a few ganon taken the edge off it? Given y'the chance to think things through?"

"I. Am. Decepticon." The Seeker shook, unable to control the tremors caused by memories and pain nearly as fresh as the orn it happened floored his processors.

::What is he going on about?:: Ezara asked privately.

::Losing a Spark-bonded mate is fatal most of the time,:: Jazz answered, his mind solemn. ::Those that don't die are shadows of their former self at most, and generally suicidal on some level.::

::That explains a lot about him,:: she murmured in what might almost be sympathy.

::It does,:: Jazz agreed. ::I doubt we'll get much more from him at this point, except possibly an agreement to undergo the reprogramming process. I'd rather have the Shadow Trine as examples first though. Do you think you can get more from him, without going outside Optimus' boundaries?::

::I don't know how much I can get, but I'd like to try,:: she said seriously. ::Anything in particular you'd like to know?::

::Any developments he's made for Megatron outside of his contributions as Flight Commander. We don't need to find out that Megatron has any more new toys than the space bridges.::

Ezara nodded, watching Starscream's reaction to her stepping forward, into his personal space, as Jazz backed off.

"Going to take something more this time?" Starscream rasped out, glaring at her.

"I can," she purred softly with a light caress along the side of his face. "Or I can give you something back."

"It's a bit late for you to return my dignity," he replied acidly. "Did you tell them my trine ambushed you? Or maybe that we were coming towards the Ark when you attacked me?"

"Sh'already told us sh'went out hunting," Jazz observed. "So don't worry 'bout that."

"And that it was four to one when you were taken down," Ezara added, her fingers sliding down to his chin. "It may not be safe for me to fly alone, but it isn't for your kind either. I was referring to your lovely wings," she cooed as she walked around behind him to stroke the freshly sealed connections on his back. "You do look better with them on."

"Are you on an energon high?" He asked her irritably, glancing over at Jazz, trying to figure out what was up with her, why she'd made the sudden twist from wanting him dead at any cost the last time they'd met to... this.

The spy was being decidedly unhelpful, as expected.

"No," her purr was soft, seductive and more than a little frightening to the part of him that remembered just how manipulative her code could be. "You have something I want. I have something you want," her fingers played along his back and hip, setting off sensor nodes in a decidedly pleasurable way. "I can take what I want, but it is more efficient to trade."

"And just what do you want?" He asked her warily.

"For you wings, details on what you've worked on since you woke up on Earth," she continued the pleasant thrumming and touches as she walked around to face him again and caught his chin to pull him forward into a forceful kiss. ~And indulge me tonight,~ she added through the touch. "For your freedom, you agree to Jazz's proposal."

"What proposal?" He asked her bluntly, focusing on that second part as he tried to pull back from her - the part that sounded the most like it would probably end up with him getting melted down or blasted to atoms.

"I told you we can undo the damage the Forge did," Jazz explained patiently. "The war is almost over. There is a place for scientists again. The process comes with a full pardon from Prime."

"That will be so useful when Megatron reduces me to atoms!" Starscream snarled at him angrily.

"It is quite unlikely Megatron will still be alive when the process is finished," Ezara pointed out in a sultry voice. "I might even save the killing blow for you, if you make it worth my patience."

"Assuming you can keep me alive when you cut my spark chamber and brain off from all power," Starscream said bluntly. "I might not have been working on it for however long, but I can guess the basics!"

"It's quite survivable," Ezara promised, sliding her glossa along his jaw line as one hand slid down his cockpit glass with an expert touch for arousal despite his resistance. "Autobot medical technology and knowledge is far in advance of Decepticon methods."

"It's not done all at once," Jazz picked up. "The process is slow, but effective. We can keep the brain alive outside the body systems for several joor, sometimes longer. I've seen that. Sparks are even easier to hook up to an external power supply while the work is done."

"It's worked on someone?" Starscream asked, not because he was considering being reduced to a worthless commoner again, but trying to avoid being left alone with the amorous femme for as long as possible. "I want to talk to them."

"It's working, but they aren't to survive it," Ezara purred as she continued her slow exploration of his frame, setting off pleasure in every sensor node she found, and she knew his frametype well already. "Hotspike and Coldspike are under a death sentence."

"Murder by medical experiment?" Starscream taunted Jazz. "The high and mighty Autobots - does Prime know about that?"

"My project," Ezara pulled his face towards hers. "And yes, he does. If they die in it, they were going to die anyway and lives will be saved by what we learn. If they survive, the full process has been proven and they'll be executed. That is how military medical research works, you know."

"And if you think I'm going to agree to let you start ripping my circuits apart, you're crazier than Megatron!" He growled at her.

"That's fine," she chuckled, a sound that reminded him far too much of the warlord. "So you won't fly free. But will you have your wings back?"

"If you touch my circuits, I'll find a way to make you regret it," he promised her ... though he didn't turn down the offer.

It seemed to be enough, because she smiled, and it wasn't a look that promised pain. "Then begin by making a data pack of what you've designed and worked on since you woke on Earth. Then I'll see about your wings," she walked behind him to trace her fingers along the seams where they should connect.

"I'll prepare it for you - I'll need some time though," he told her cautiously.

"Then you prepare it, and I'll see to your new wings," she said with another kiss, one he didn't resist quite so much, and pulled away with a lick to his bottom lip. "I'll be back for the rest of the payment later."