The four younglings stood in a clustered group, shocked, Air General Deltastorm stood before them with his rifle raised in their direction. Strafe, Starscream, and Prince Sunstrike watched him. Scattershot staring at the limp form of Osprey as he bled out. He was a Seer and he'd just stabbed Osprey.

A Seer. Among the Air Warriors. How had it gone unnoticed? How had he infiltrated the highest ranks of the military? He was one step away from being Air Commander of the Air Warriors.

"Come here Chimera," Deltastorm ordered in a low voice, "or I'll kill your friends."

Sunstrike snapped up his hand, revealing he'd palmed his blaster. He aimed at Deltastorm, who looked at him calmly.

"A Seer?" Sunstrike asked, "Why?"

"You know I won't answer that," Deltastorm dismissed, "so I suggest you shoot."

Sunstrike hesitated. The blaster shook. He'd never actually shot at anyone, just targets. He remembered how Deltastorm scolded him alongside his own son when Coldsnap tried to help Sunstrike ditch his tutor. Deltastorm had shown his daughter Stormfrost how to tip her wings to cut through the air, patient and proud. Deltastorm had helped critique Sunstrike's stance with his swords, for all royals learned the dual-wielding style their first Emperor Sunstar had used with devastating efficiency.

How could he be a Seer? How could he have just attacked Osprey?

"Osprey," Scattershot whispered.

He raised his helm from his foster father to Deltastorm, gaze flat and cold. Starscream glanced at him, hearing the shift in his voice. He'd never heard such a tone from his friend before.

"You can't shoot," Deltastorm said calmly as Sunstrike struggled to pull the trigger. "Killing isn't easy. It's one of the hardest things and you don't have the spark for it. That's why you'll make such a wonderful Emperor."

Strafe lunged at Sunstrike to snatch the blaster from him. He would use it. Scattershot beat him to it. He twisted the prince's wrist to force him to release the blaster and then shoved him backwards once he had it. Deltastorm had just enough time to raise the shortsword as Scattershot pulled the trigger. The shot should have struck him in the face, but shattered when it hit the shortsword, leaving Deltastorm unscathed.

The younglings looked at their friend in shock as Starscream steadied the prince. Scattershot knew how to use a blaster? Deltastorm kept the shortsword raised as he looked at him, baffled. Had Osprey shown the boy how to use one? No, a novice wouldn't go for a headshot. That shot should have struck him in the optic, a crippling and extremely painful shot. It was too calculating for Osprey's ward. Ward… of course, he was adopted!

"You shouldn't have done that," Scattershot said, his voice a low growl.

"Found you," Deltastorm smiled. "I don't suppose you'll be nice and come back to the Academy to keep me from killing your friends."

"Oh don't worry," Scattershot stepped forward so he was between the Seer and the other younglings, "you won't."

One of Deltastorm's rifles came up but Scattershot just smiled. Starscream felt a chill. That wasn't his friend's smile. They shot at the same time, their shots clashing and exploding in midair. Scattershot was then on top of a table and leaping at Deltastorm. The general's next shot missed and he stabbed with his shortsword as Scattershot was suddenly too close for another shot. He was fast!

Scattershot caught the tip of the blade on the back of his hand and twisted his wrist. The blade slid downward as it was parried away, scratching along his forearm. The damage was cosmetic, merely sending flakes of paint falling to the ground and leaving a long, thin scratch where the metal was shinier. Sunstrike's breath caught when he saw the feathertouch, a technique only adults were permitted to try given that it was easy to lose one's hand, be done perfectly.

Scattershot pulled the trigger and energon splattered onto the duraglass wall. Deltastorm staggered back, blindly slashing with his sword. Energon ran down the side of the face where the shot had clipped his helm. With an annoyed tssk at his poor aim, Scattershot jumped back onto a table and to the floor to dodge two shots, canceling a third with his own blaster.

A few drops of energon ran down Scattershot's cheek, having been dashed there when he'd shot Deltastorm. The youngling didn't notice. There was a flash of orange light and he vanished as he used his affinity to cloak. Deltastorm choked.

"You're not the Chimera!" He snarled in understanding, "you're just one of the students!"

"Yes," Scattershot agreed, his voice echoing around the bar, making it impossible to discern his location. "But I'm the best hunter of the Academy, Seer."

There was a cold sneer in Scattershot's voice as he proudly proclaimed the fact that chilled Starscream. Hunter? Hunting what?

No, this wasn't Scattershot. Shy Scattershot who had made a face when Strafe proudly told him and Starscream he was being taught by his parents how to shoot a blaster. Gentle Scattershot who had shaken his helm when Strafe offered to take them to the shooting range so they could try to shoot, under the eye of a trained Air Warrior of course. Quiet Scattershot who watched as Windsaber, a blade-user due to her foldable wings, bickered with Strafe over which was better – swords or blasters – with a soft smile, glad to simply be around his friends.

Starscream shook himself and grabbed Strafe and Sunstrike's shoulders, tugging them back.

"Come on," he told them softly, "we need to put some distance from them."

"Scattershot," Strafe whispered, "he's…"

"He's buying time," Starscream repeated strongly, "let's get behind cover. If we try anything we'll just get in his way."

Stunned, the three younglings made their way through the tables to the counter with him, lightning sporadically illuminating the inside. Deltastorm saw them leave and raised his rifle, only for a shot from to strike his back. He shrieked as energon ran down his back and his right wing sagged as he lost all feeling in it.

He whipped around and shot in the direction the attack had come from but it merely singed one of the booths, melting the metal of the seat. Scattershot had already moved positions.

"I wonder if I should I finish hamstringing you," Scattershot's voice mused. "You wouldn't last long in this storm without your wings."

His voice was dead and flat and Sunstrike shuddered as they went around Osprey to the bar, the prince casting a look at Osprey. His frame was not yet the gray of death, though the energon around him was spreading rapidly. Starscream grabbed his arm when he took a step forward to help and dragged him behind cover.

"Later," Starscream growled, "none of us are medics and we'll be even less use if we get shot."

It was the logical course of action but calculated and merciless, something Sunstrike wasn't expecting from Starscream. Strafe looked at him in surprise but cast his gaze back on the fight. Deltastorm had both his rifles armed now, straining to hear a sound from Scattershot. He would be waiting awhile, Strafe thought grimly, remembering how he could never find the vanishing youngling. He had long thought Scattershot was too good at sneaking around, but he hadn't expected this.

Deltastorm glowered under his breath and turned one of his rifles on Osprey's limp form, firing. One of the hiding younglings, the prince he believed, cried out. It was unfortunate Sunstrike had to be here but this was his best chance to retrieve the chimera, even if he had to kill one of the students to get to it. He'd just have to kill the prince once he was done with Scattershot but that made no matter; his loyalty was to the Seers.

"The Chimera is with Sunstrike," the Vosian had told Deltastorm after stopping him in the castle, "and Sunstrike is at Osprey's unguarded. I've seen to it the power grid will shut off soon. You could go there and get the Chimera back under the pretense of checking on the crown prince. Everyone would think it was a terrorist attack against Sunstrike. You don't mind if you kill Sunstrike, do you? Your loyalty is to the Seers after all, isn't it Deltastorm?"

The Vosian had smiled, the rippling light from the red diamond shaped tattoos on the backs of his hands captivating. Yes, now was the time for Deltastorm to retrieve the Chimera.

As he suspected, Scattershot stepped in front of the blast, becoming visible as he did so. He jerked back as the bolt slammed into his left wing but did not flinch as he raised his blaster and returned the shot. Deltastorm jerked aside to dodge it, cursing the confines of the ground as he lashed out with his affinity. Jagged icicles formed and instantly threw themselves at him, over a dozen of them. Scattershot disappeared, and the shots flew by where he had been and struck the wall. How had they missed? Invisibility and intangibility were two different things.

Sunstrike chucked a tray from the counter at Deltastorm as Scattershot fired from behind. The bolt struck the genera's left wing and made it go limp at the same time the tray crashed into his helm with a clang. Starscream pulled the prince behind the counter to avoid the return shot.

"Idiot," he snarled.

"He's our friend," Sunstrike growled despite his trembling voice. "He needs help."

"I don't think so," Starscream said softly, looking over the counter.

Wings crippled, Deltastorm blocked a blast from a gun and responded in kind. It struck nothing but the duraglass, cracking it. He hesitated. The booming thunder prevented silence from reigning, which was a problem for the Seer. How could he track an opponent he couldn't see or hear?

Fine, he'd do this the bloody way. The temperature plummeted as his affinity awoke. He'd hesitated to use it earlier because of Strafe's presence, but didn't think the youngling had mastered his affinity to the point of being a threat. Starscream grabbed Strafe's arm.

"Strafe," he hissed, "cancel it! Raise a field! Now!"

"What about Scattershot?" Strafe countered, desperation in his voice. Things were happening too quickly.

Strafe's affinity allowed him to cloak an area around him in a dampening field. No affinity would work within the field, either friend or foe. If he used it, Deltastorm would lose his ice but Scattershot wouldn't be able to turn invisible.

Deltastorm didn't hear anything but felt something, his instincts honed from combat. Scattershot must have made some movement, recognizing the implications of Starscream's order. The shortsword flew from his hand as he threw it and vanished in midair, swallowed by the cloaking field around Scattershot. Deltastorm smiled and fired. Orange light gleamed as the youngling reappeared and dodged, but his smile faded when he saw he wasn't injured. Energon ran down his left arm in rivulets, but not his frame. What? He'd used the knife because he had a better aim with it than he did his rifles. How could he miss?

Deltastorm's optics brightened when the youngling moved his injured arm. The shortsword was embedded in his forearm, embedded so deeply the blade's tip was protruding from the other side. Scattershot hadn't been able to dodge the blade so he'd blocked it, letting his arm take the hit to protect his chest. He should have made a sound from the pain at least, yet his optics were flat and emotionless. They were not dull however, but sharp with the gleam of intelligence. He'd made sure to block it with the arm not holding his blaster so he wouldn't risk dropping the weapon. The Seer was certain of it.

The youngling raised his right arm, which still held the blaster, and fired. Deltastorm sidestepped it. He returned fire and kept firing. Scattershot dodged what he could or canceled them with his own blaster. The youngling knew the layout of the café and used that to his advantage, constantly moving. His wings were struck but he paid them no heed as they hung limp from his shoulders. He must have turned off the sensory input from them to avoid the pain. He would not be able to fly as long as they were in this state and the damage they accumulated without knowing meant he wouldn't be able to fly anyway. It was a rare upgrade among the Air Warriors for that reason, but no more then he expected from the youngling.

The fact he wasn't cloaking indicated to Deltastorm he'd used up his energy. That worked perfectly.

"Strafe," Starscream warned as ice crystals started to form on the floor.

"Fine," Strafe snapped. Scattershot wasn't cloaking anymore so this shouldn't hurt him.

The air shifted, rippled almost, and the temperature stopped dropping. Deltastorm flinched as his affinity was shut down and thrown back into his spark so hard and fast it made his eyesight spin. His ice hid in his spark, unwilling to come out. Strafe could use his finicky affinity on cue?

Strafe grimaced. He could activate his affinity but he couldn't control the range yet. Right now, the nullifying field would be at its maximum – 1 mile.

Scattershot dove to the ground and rolled as Deltastorm's unleashed a flurry of bolts. The duraglass window shattered behind him and the wind howled in, bringing with it rain and glass shards. The three behind the counter ducked. Scattershot ended up beside a chair that had fallen from the table it had been set on. He caught the seat under his foot as he stood and kicked, launching it at Deltastorm, who dove to the side in surprise at the unorthodox attack. Deltastorm saw Scattershot hold out the blaster as he lunged sideways, things moving in slow motion. The chair had been a feint to get him to move so the youngling would have a better bead on him with the blaster.

Scattershot pulled the trigger, and the bolt flew between the chairs and slammed into Deltastorm's rifle. Cursing, Deltastorm glanced at his rifle and saw it was no longer of any use. For one astrosecond, his optics were not on Scattershot. His optics snapped back in place to see Scattershot leaping over a table, too close for the rifles to use. He jerked back. The youngling's stolen blaster came up level with Deltastorm's face.

Two shots were fired, but the sound was swallowed by thunder. Deltastorm fell. Scattershot was left standing on the table top looking down at the traitorous Air Warrior. Energon ran down his left arm, the shortsword still embedded through it. He glanced over at the counter. Sunstrike, Strafe, and Starscream were looking over it at them. Sunstrike flinched and Strafe tensed, Starscream's optics unwavering.

Starscream watched his friend, watched his optics. There was no nothing recognizable in them. They were the eyes of a killer. Then the hardness faded and it was Scattershot again, dark golden optics flooded with concern and a little fear.

"Are you all okay?" He asked worriedly. There was none of the cold-blooded pride in it.

They continued staring at him and Scattershot looked away, bowing his helm. Starscream saw the hand holding the blaster, start to shake. He understood.

"We're fine," Starscream told him. "Is Deltastorm dead?"

"I'll have to check," Scattershot's voice flattened, sounding eerily as it had before. "But you can come out. He won't get up soon."

His helm snapped up suddenly and he whipped around.

"Osprey!" He cried out as he remembered.

"I got him," Starscream said and left the counter and hurried over to the mech. "Make sure we don't have to dive behind cover again."

Scattershot hesitated and then nodded, dropping from the table to Deltastorm. Starscream knelt by Osprey. He was still alive and he pressed his hand over the wound, unsure what else to do. None of them had medic training.

"Sunstrike," Starscream called out, "try your communicator. Osprey needs your help. Strafe look around for some sort of medical kit. There has to be one."

The younglings hesitated and then Strafe went into the kitchen. Sunstrike took his communicator out of subspace. The tension in the air eased and shifted as it returned to its normal pattern, an indication Strafe had turned off his terrifying affinity.

Scattershot stood and hurried over to where Osprey was, trailing energon-soaked footprints.

"Deltastorm's dead, Osprey?" He asked.

"Alive," Starscream promised, but frowned at the energon seeping from between his fingers.

Sunstrike muttered an oath, "I'm just getting static."

"Language," Starscream scolded the prince. "The jamming field must not be tied to Deltastorm then."

Strafe came back with a medical kit in his arms. Scattershot had nudged Starscream's hands aside and was examining the wound. Starscream didn't stop him. If he was this skilled at inflicting wounds, he would have a sense for what was fatal.

"It must not have damaged his sparkchamber too severely," Scattershot decided in a shaking voice, "or he'd have already died. It's too deep for the medkit to fix."

"Maybe we should look at your arm then," Starscream commented blandly as he put hands back over the wound.

Scattershot looked at him blankly for a moment before remembering the sword still rammed through his arm. "No, better not. It's staunching the bleeding. It'll get worse if you take it out. I've had worse."

"I guessed," Starscream said softly. "You're one of the Seers' augments that escaped with the Chimera."

Scattershot stiffened, Strafe watching him. It was obvious enough. How else could he have learned to fight like that? Besides, the augments the Seers had bred and raised as weapons had escaped three centuries ago after the Chimera broke through their security. Scattershot had been adopted by Osprey around the same time.

"You think I'm going to run away screaming or something?" Starscream asked with a note of disgust.

Scattershot hadn't been afraid Deltastorm or killing him. He'd been afraid of how his friends had stared at him after he'd won. That was when his hand started shaking.

"You're still our friend," Starscream dismissed.

Scattershot said nothing, not looking up.

"You wouldn't touch a gun because you were scared of them," Starscream murmured, "but because you were afraid someone would notice how good you were and ask questions."

Scattershot nodded, head down, biting his lower lip.

"I suppose being a monster has its uses," Scattershot said hoarsely. "I stopped Deltastorm."

"You're not a monster," Starscream responded.

Scattershot's expression was raw. He didn't believe him. There remained a determined gleam in his eyes however, and no guilt or pain. Starscream didn't doubt he'd do it all again without hesitation. He didn't like having to act that way in front of his friends, but he believed he had done the right thing.

"I still can't get the communicator to work," Sunstrike interrupted softly, not looking at Scattershot.

"Let me look at it," Starscream stood, leaving Scattershot to take his place.

He and Sunstrike put their heads together over the communicator. Strafe hesitated and then approached Scattershot, holding the medkit in front of him as if it was a shield.

Scattershot shook his helm that the medkit would be of no use, optics down. Strafe didn't quite trust him anymore, as he knew would happen if he revealed his past. That was why he'd never breathed a word of it to anyone, even Osprey, and kept away from conflicts to avoid falling into old patterns. Osprey had been in so patient after he'd found Scattershot, so gentle and kind. Yet Scattershot's presence had drawn Deltastorm to attack, thinking the chimera was him, and because of that Osprey was…

Scattershot didn't know how to heal. All he knew how to do was kill. And because of that, he could just watch as Osprey kept bleeding and the wind howled.

You see the first traces of the colder Starscream that appears in the series and more on his original wingmates, Strafe and Scattershot. Scattershot is not a normal Vosian and I'm sure you can guess what he hunted at the Academy as he learned to be a killer for the Seers. The Seers are elitists and since they believe they are the best of the best, they should rule and all others are... lesser. They don't get along with Vos, nor is Deltastorm the only sleeper agent they've sent, although he's the only one that was activated without orders from his handler.

Remember that line about red diamond tattoos? Guess who's trying to get rid of Sunstrike?