Starscream's signal was a harsh angry thing.

His spark pulsed in time with his rage as Ratchet watched his signal weave through the narrow canyon. The cuffs had done a good job of not only restraining him, but also tracking him, it would seem.

"What a mess," Ratchet muttered. The rest of the team sat behind them, moving awkwardly around the base as Starscream's signal loudly pulsed on. Optimus stood beside Ratchet, his optics locked on Starscream's blinking signal and his frame tight and stiff.

"Optimus?" Ratchet asked, turning to stare at him.

Optimus looked down at Ratchet, and Ratchet froze.

Optimus had gotten that look in his optics, a look Ratchet had seen a thousand times before and would probably see a thousand times again.

Ratchet knew what Optimus wanted to do.

"Optimus, no."

The lone signal beeped on the computer. Optimus glanced at the groundbridge.

"I am going back for him," he said.

Ratchet watched Starscream's signal as it drifted through the rugged canyon, a harsh and erratic beep pulsing in time with Starscream's whirring spark.

Ratchet drew his servos up into fists.

"What—but why? Optimus, he's Starscream! He killed one of our own! He's the reason I've had so many patients all these years. Why go after him?" Ratchet sputtered. The rest of the team went quiet and stared at Optimus.

Starscream's signal beeped on, drifting through the canyon. They didn't have much time—the cuffs were strong, but they wouldn't last forever. Soon Starscream would get them off, soon he'd fly away, and soon he'd fly out of their lives for good.

"I know all of this," Optimus said, narrowing his optics at the blinking signal.

"Then why?" Ratchet asked, the team gathering behind him, their fields twisting in shock and worry and anger, so, so much anger.

"Because if I don't try and save Starscream, no one else will. I know that we are his last hope."

"What, his last hope to sink his claws into us?"

"His last hope to be happy, Ratchet. He could help us win this war, I know he can. He held great control over the Decepticons, and he did not end up in that position for no reason," Optimus said. Optimus's field was a massive thing, an enormous cloud of emotion and energy gathered around his giant frame, slowly and calmly weaving around him. A flare of determination suddenly flared in his calm field, parting it and pulsing outwards.

Ratchet sighed and felt grief pulse in his own field. The lone signal on the computer kept on blinking as Starscream kept on moving along.

"Let him go," Ratchet said, feeling more tired than he had in years.

"I can't. You know I can't, old friend," Optimus said, a sad smile on his face.

Ratchet nodded, a sinking feeling settling into his gut, and activated the groundbridge.

Optimus drove through. And Ratchet waited.

And waited.

And waited.

He wasn't expecting much at all—he was expecting to see Optimus coming out of the groundbridge, his frame dusty and soiled and a tightness in his shoulders. He was expecting to see Starscream's signal disappear as he shook off his cuffs and flew away, leaving nothing but Optimus's disappointment behind in his wake.

"Why are you like this?" Ratchet muttered, watching Optimus's signal chase Starscream's. "What's even the point of all this, anymore?" Ratchet mumbled, tired to his core.

Optimus's signal and Starscream's blinked rapidly on the screen, looping and whirling around one another. Ratchet watched, exhaustion settling deep into his struts—

And then the signals disappeared.

The rest of the team clustered around the computer screen, their concerned voices rising over one another.

"I knew it—"

"He needs backup—"

Ratchet just stared at the computer screen. And stared. And stared.

The rest of the team gathered around him, their distressed shouting incredibly loud in the silence left behind by the absence of the signal's beeping.

Ratchet watched the screen, his spark pulsing in his chestplates as the rest of the team fought behind him. He will not remember what they fought about. All he will truly remember from this moment was the map laid out on the screen, a dozen twisting canyons and crevices, and not a single life signal amongst them.

"Oh, Optimus," Ratchet said, panic fizzling in his field as fear clenched around his spark chamber.

"Something happened. Should we go check it out?" Arcee said, her arms crossed.

"What if Starscream invited the Cons and they ambushed Optimus?" Bumblebee beeped, his doorwings fluttering nervously.

Bulkhead was silent and wringed his servos together, his field huge and blaring worry.

"Both of their signals disappeared, so if something happened to Optimus, then something happened to Starscream too," Ratchet said, a thousand possibilities racing through his helm. "An avalanche probably happened," Ratchet breathed. "Something happened that blocked out their signals—like that one incident with the cave."

Arcee and Bulkhead winced as Ratchet turned on the groundbridge, sending a bridge directly into the last place Optimus had been. He turned on the bridge, watched it flare to life with a brilliant green light, felt the wind rush out of it, and he waited.

"Optimus isn't coming through," Bulkhead pointed out, his armor clenched tight to his frame.

Ratchet mumbled under his breath and turned off the groundbridge, slamming down on the lever. He typed in a set of new coordinates, braced himself, and created a new bridge.

He sent a comm out through the bridge and felt it travel through the swirling tunnel of light and out the other end.

He heard no comm in return.

On it went. Ratchet entered in the coordinates for a new bridge, everybody tensed up, and then he slammed down on the lever. The groundbridge opened up. No one came out and no comms came calling through. He shut the groundbridge, and entered in a new set of coordinates, over and over again.

The main room of the base constantly kept lighting up and dimming as the groundbridge constantly opened and closed, sending harsh blasts of wind across their frames and bits of dust and dirt swirling through the air. Ratchet watched the map, waiting for a signal to appear, and saw none. He entered in a set of coordinates, his field tense and drowning in worry, and slammed down on the lever once more.

The groundbridge opened again.

The comm crackled to life. "Ratchet," Optimus said.

"Optimus! What happened?" Ratchet shouted, relief and terror flooding his field. The rest of the team gathered around the computer, holding their breath.

"There was an avalanche and I am in a cave. You should come here," Optimus said, slowly and cautiously.

Ratchet felt confusion and frustration seep into his field. "What? Are you injured?"

"Please come," Optimus said. A chill went down Ratchet's back. There was something strange about the way he spoke, something off in the way his voice crackled through the comm.

The rest of the team looked at him, confusion filling their fields. Ratchet nodded and quickly grabbed his medical supplies, bursting into the groundbridge.

Brilliant green lights swirled around him and a powerful wind ripped past Ratchet's frame as he shoved his way through the bridge. Someone's powerful EM field sizzled and crackled, so distraught that Ratchet could feel the distressed field brushing against his own as he raced through the hissing static of the bridge.

Optimus was in pain. Optimus needed help, he could feel his distress, his panic—he did not know what happened in that cave—one moment he and the rest of the team were crowded around the computer, watching Optimus's signal give chase to Starscream's, and then suddenly both of their signals had disappeared, and now—

Ratchet jumped out from the groundbridge and into the cave. Dust swirled in the air and the tang of spilt energon hung thick around him. A distressed EM field wavered and flickered within the cave, raw with panic and—

Grief.

So much grief.

The moment he emerged into the cave the frazzled and distraught EM field blared out, briefly overwhelming him as he stumbled up to Optimus. He flexed his servos, ready to transform them into medical tools and treat Optimus in any way he could—

Optimus was… fine. The Prime stood there, his blue optics lighting up the narrow cavern and illuminating the swirling particles of dust. Optimus looked at Ratchet, and his field was calm and smooth.

Ratchet's optics widened. A fresh flare of grief briefly burst out from the distraught field again, wavering with a thousand years of pain, and Ratchet looked down.

Starscream was in Optimus's arms, energon dripping down from a huge gash in his wing and with raw despair pouring out from his field.

Optimus was silent as he stood there, silently stroking the shaking Seeker's back, careful to not spread around the energon splattered onto Starscream.

Shock flooded Ratchet's own field and he opened his intake, ready to ask a million questions—

It was weak, but Ratchet felt it.

A flickering emotion escaped from Starscream's frothing and roiling field. It briefly leapt out from Starscream's frame, zinging past Ratchet's own field before dissipating in the dusty air. Ratchet's breath caught in his intake as Optimus continued to stare at him, a sad smile spreading across Optimus's faceplate.

Starscream's field was a wavering mess of raw grief and regret clashing together, but through the hissing static and the despair, hope flared out from Starscream's field. It was a faint and whispery thing, a brief burst of emotion in the storm that was Starscream's emotions, but it was there.

Ratchet shut his intake with a click. Optimus nodded and walked past him into the groundbridge, Ratchet following right behind.

The blinding light of the groundbridge whirled around the two of them, the wind rushing past and the green glow of the bridge lighting them up in harsh contrasts. Hot static and roaring wind deafened Optimus and Ratchet as they walked through, Starscream prone in Optimus's arms, his frame reflecting the bright flashes and colors swirling around them.

Through the bright lights of the groundbridge tunnel and the sound of the hot roar of the wind, Optimus could see Ratchet look over at him, his bright blue optics piercingly bright in the green glow of the bridge. The wind of the bridge screamed past, bringing with it clumps of dust and clouds of dirt from the cavern behind. Optimus tightened his grip on Starscream, the brilliantly bright lights flashing and reflecting off of the energon leaking down Starscream's wing.

"I hope you know what you're doing," Ratchet was saying, his voice stolen by the rushing wind. Optimus inclined his helm and looked out at the other end of the bridge. He could faintly see the main room of the base and the blurry and hazy forms of his team waiting beyond. Ratchet looked at Optimus, Starscream's field radiating raw grief as it hovered between their frames, static racing across their plating.

Optimus and Ratchet walked through the groundbridge and into the base.

The rushing wind stopped blowing immediately. Optimus blinked, letting his optics adjust to the lack of light, and he looked out into the base.

Bumblebee, Bulkhead, and Arcee stood waiting on the other side. Their optics shot down to look at Starscream lying prone in Optimus's arms. They jaws dropped and shock radiated through their fields. Their fields brushed against one another, making hot static race across Optimus's frame. Starscream shifted in his arms, his own field deep and heavy with grief. Their frazzled fields brushed against his, flaring with surprise and worry with a faint undercurrent of raw anger flowing through.

Optimus stood there, felt the frayed and confused edges of their fields brush against his, and he walked right past them.

Starscream shifted in his arms, a long river of energon pouring out of a deep gash in his wing. The team stepped aside to let him past, Starscream's wing dripping and leaving behind a bright blue trail of energon behind on the floor. Ratchet silently rushed ahead to prepare the medbay, the only sound the quiet ivents of their frames and the clattering of Starscream's armor against Optimus's as he shifted in his arms.

Optimus walked around the corner, felt three pairs of watching optics on his back, and walked right into the medbay, Starscream and all.


Optimus shut his optics. He could feel the rest of them waiting just around the corner. Their fields mingled and mixed together, filling the air with a hazy, staticky charge rife with worry and anxiety and a faint undercurrent of anger, raw ranger.

Optimus let out a heavy sigh. Starscream laid on the medical berth, his systems humming faintly as he recharged. A long weld line stretched across the plane of his wing and chunks of dried energon stuck to his transformation seams.

"Optimus."

Optimus turned around. Ratchet stared at him from the doorway, his field blank and expressionless. A sudden pulse of anger floated in from the main room of the base, a brief flicker of emotion that suddenly appeared before winking out.

"Ratchet. You did a good job welding his wing, I am sure that he will be back to flying in no time," Optimus said. Ratchet sighed heavily and he grit his dentae before stomping over to Optimus, swinging a servo out and pointing at the unconscious Seeker on the berth.

"Why is he here? Optimus, you chose to—to bring the second-in-command of the Decepticons here! To our base! Our very secret base, where no Decepticons are allowed?" Ratchet huffed out, his armor clanking together as frustration blared through his previously calm and expressionless field.

Optimus took one last look at the healing Seeker before stepping out of the medbay, Ratchet muttering as he followed after him. Three other pairs of angry optics met him. All four of the other members of Team Prime stood there staring at him, the air thick with the static of their angry EM fields.

"How could you do this?" Arcee said, her voice thick with barely restrained rage.

Optimus walked into the main room as Bulkhead, Ratchet, Bumblebee, and Arcee watched on, their fields tight and stiff around them.

"I have chosen to give Starscream a second chance," Optimus said.

"Optimus, what—?" Bulkhead sputtered.

Bumblebee beeped and whirred. "You know what he's done to us!"

"He's just going to kill us too!" Arcee said, marching right up in front of Optimus.

"I understand that I have made a very controversial decision; however, I feel that it is for the best of the team if we gave Starscream a chance. He knows the inner workings of the Nemesis and he can help us defeat the Decepticons with his knowledge. He understands Megatron," Optimus said, closing his optics as his team members began to shout.

"But Prime, he understands Megatron so well because… well… he kind of is Megatron!" Bulkhead said.

"Who do you think taught Starscream to be so cruel?" Bumblebee beeped.

Optimus frowned. "Now that he has been removed from Megatron's presence, he will understand that the treatment he suffered under his servos was not normal at all."

"How about the way we have suffered under his servos? All his crazy schemes and weird plans? His freaky claws?" Bulkhead shouted, waving his servos.

"He knows what it's like to kill Autobots beside Megatron!"

"He understands what it's like to be hit by Megatron, too."

"What, he revealed himself to be the killer of one of our own, and you insist on going after him? To retrieve this Decepticon, and for what?" Arcee ground out.

"He has a name. He is Starscream."

"Oh, so you'll say Starscream's name, but not Cliffjumper's. Remember just the murderer and not the victim, is that how it is now?" Ratchet huffed out.

Starscream stirred in his recharge and mumbled as he turned over in the berth, curling up as his bandaged wings fluttered behind him.

Optimus looked at Starscream as he slept, his optics softening. "He is a victim, too."

They all stopped and stared at Starscream for several moments. Starscream shifted around, revealing a long claw mark that stretched down his back. It was an old scar, a dark grey discoloration hidden in the seams of his armor—and then Starscream shifted again, his plating moving to cover the old scar again. Starscream's grimaced and he twisted in his sleep, his plating briefly shifting to reveal another long dark scar across his abdomen. It was only visible for a second, but they all saw it nevertheless.

Bulkhead, Ratchet, and Bumblebee stood behind Arcee, their own fields blown out wide with shock and anger. Bumblebee's blue optics were wide and bright. Bulkhead kept looking back and forth between the seething two-wheeler and Optimus.

Arcee fumed, her optics flashing as she crossed her arms. Bulkhead kept on frowning and rubbed at the back of his neck cables with a servo. Bumblebee stared off into space, his optics rapidly expanding and contracting as his processor whirred in thought.

Ratchet sighed and leaned heavily against the wall. Specks of dirt and dust floated in the air and coated Optimus's pedes, leaving behind dark trails on the floor.

"You can't save him," Ratchet said softly. Starscream shifted in his recharge again.

"I will try."

"You couldn't save Megatron, so now you're trying to see if you can save Starscream, is that it?" Ratchet said, his voice so low Optimus's audials strained to hear it.

"I know what you're thinking. What if I fail? What if I am not successful in reforming Starscream, what if I am not successful in helping him become a better mech who can help us? What if?" Optimus said.

"He's going to tear you apart. Remember Megatron, and how you begged him to see reason? And how well that turned out?" Ratchet said.

Starscream shifted again on the berth, briefly revealing the long claw marks again.

"I remember, Ratchet. I remember that very well. Except when we were in that cave, I was not begging him to see reason. He was begging me for help."

"Starscream was begging you for help? Really?" Bulkhead said.

"Really," Optimus said. "You can see it in their optics. Broken and jaded mechs looking for a way out. A way out of the war, a way out of misery, or even a way out of Megatron's clutches. And who am I deny someone a second chance, someone who clearly just wants to escape?"

"Escape? He's no different than Megatron," Arcee shouted.

"No. He's better than Megatron. He's done terrible things too, but still. Megatron imprisoned him and I suppose getting trapped in that cave was what was needed to set him free."

Ratchet dragged his servo down his faceplate, his field dark and heavy around him. "Why go through so much trouble for someone so arrogant, someone who thought himself to be so far above one of your soldiers that he killed that soldier? We won't accept this!"

Optimus sighed, slow and deep and heavy. He stared off into space, a calculating look in his optics, the same looks he gets whenever he's best planning how to win a battle. The machines of the medbay beeped and whirred in the background.

"Starscream will be staying in the medbay. I know this will be difficult, but if Starscream succeeds in reforming, then we can—"

"I looked into his dead optics and saw nothing but pain!" Arcee shouted, her wheels spinning angrily on her back.

"Starscream is not dead. He lives, and Ratchet will treat him—"

"I wasn't talking about Starscream, I was talking about Cliffjumper!"

The entire base fell silent. The only noise was the quiet whirs and beeps of the medbay machinery.

"But you could've been talking about Starscream as well."

Arcee frowned, her field twisting in confusion.

"Optimus, what are you talking about?" Bumblebee asked.

"He's dying on the inside," Optimus said, shaking his helm.

"He probably tortured Cliffjumper!" Bulkhead said.

"Yes… perhaps he did suffer as he passed into the Allspark. But I know for certain that Megatron has been abusing Starscream terribly for a very, very long time now as well."

"You will not win us over so easily, Optimus," Ratchet sighed.

"I know."

"He told he us what he had done."

"Yes."

"He admitted to killing one of our own, how could we—-? How could we let that pass, Prime, how could we accept him and let him replace Cliffjumper?" Arcee said. Cliffjumper's name echoed out into the medbay, the rolling syllables of his name floating into the air.

Cliffjumper.

Starscream.

Starscream lived, and Cliffjumper did not.

Starscream shifted in his sleep, his vents whirring quietly in his recharge. Energon dripped down from his wing in a slow continuous drip.

"I am going to give him a second chance," Optimus stated.

"He doesn't deserve it!"

"You're right. He doesn't. But I will give it to him nevertheless. The choice is up to him what to do with it."

The machines of the medbay kept on beeping and whirring. Energon dripped from Starscream's wing.

"I will… do my best to fix him," Ratchet said. Optimus nodded and clapped a servo over his shoulder.

"Thank you, old friend."

Ratchet sighed and went back to checking Starscream's vitals.

"Fine then. You all can go ahead and tolerate him. But make no mistake, I won't tolerate him." Arcee transformed and raced out of the base. The distant sound of her engine revving and her wheels screeching drifted through the main room.

Bulkhead shook his helm and stomped away while muttering. Bumblebee walked over to Optimus.

"Are you trying to avenge him? Do you think… do you think that maybe getting Starscream to regret killing him will somehow avenge him, in way? Make him feel awful about his death? Is that what you are trying to achieve here?" Bumblebee asked, his voice soft and quiet in the wake of Arcee's rage.

"Bumblebee…" Optimus sighed, staring into the medbay. "I must admit that there are reasons I saved Starscream that not even I am aware of. Perhaps I am doing this out of some sense of guilt for Cliffjumper's death. Perhaps seeing another mech dying right before me was enough to inspire me to action. Perhaps."

"I think… I think that what you're doing here is honorable. I don't think this will work, Optimus. I really don't. But let's try. I wonder if Cliffjumper would've been proud of us." Bumblebee beeped.

The sound of Arcee racing down the highway echoed into the base.

"...I wonder about that, too."


Starscream ran through the cave, his vents heaving as his energon dripped out onto the ground. He could hear the angry shouts echoing through the cave behind him. Starscream looked back, his optics wide and bright. All he could see was the blue glow of energon washing over the mining equipment. More energon fell from his wound, adding their blue glow to the glow of the energon.

Starscream sat there, his frame heaving. He shook as hot pain pierced his back. He could still feel the cold glint of the sword as it had sliced upward, narrowly missing the delicate sensors and nerves beneath his plating that housed his spark chamber.

"I'll get him for this," Starscream grumbled. The distant sounds of drones mining away faded into nothingness as he descended deeper into the cave's depths, energon dripping down onto the ground. Starscream took his pede and smeared his blood into the dust, his wings twitching as the distant sound of running pedesteps echoed across the cave walls.

Starscream slipped away from the main room, shakily clambering away into a side passage. He leaned against the wall and yelped in surprise as the rocks fell away from under him, sending him sliding to the floor. A crack formed in the cave, shining a bright blue glow. Starscream's optics widened. He looked out over the cave. No one was there. He turned back into the crack and gulped as he slid into the narrow crack in the cave wall, his optics widening as he emerged out the other side.

Everywhere he looked, the glow of even more energon.

Everywhere he looked, he saw potential.

Starscream raised his shoulders, his wings high on his back as he looked out over the massive mining complex. Megatron may have won this battle, but Starscream knew he was the true winner here. The bright blue glow of energon cast everything in a deep blue light. This was what power felt like. Looking out over all that you have strived so hard to build and knowing that yes, this is just the beginning.

This branch of the mine was completely untouched and was entirely devoid of miners and equipment. No one knew this was here. And no one had to know, either.

"Yes! Finally, a stroke of fortune! What are the chances? Yes, I could use this energon for my own stash."

An image of Megatron flashed into his processor, his bright red optics leering at Starscream from the dark. Starscream frowned. A cold feeling began to work its way through his struts.

"No, this plan will work. It has to. It needs to." Starscream mumbled, his talons clenching into fists.

"This—now this'll work. A stash of my own energon here, a stash there, and Megatron none the wiser. He doesn't need to know about this vein." Starscream laughed, his field flaring outward. His back was piercingly hot with pain, yet that didn't matter—it was the potential before him that mattered here.

"He just needs to cool down first. All I have to do is make sure there's enough energon here to last me." Starscream walked further down into the passage, a cold feeling working its way through his struts.

He was alone. He knew this. And yet—

Starscream's helm whipped around. He looked out into the dusty air, and he saw nothing.

Starscream snorted and shook his frame, holding a talon to his back as it bled more. It did not matter. It didn't. All that mattered was the potential of the energon before him, the power before him. He could keep all this energon to himself.

"Oh, Starscream," a voice said from the dark.

Starscream's wings shot upright. The sound of rocks falling and being shifted aside rumbled behind him. His spark pulsed in his chestplates, his plating locked up, and his field blew out wide in a hiss of static. He turned around.

Megatron was watching him. The light of his bright red optics reflected across the energon crystals, refracting the deadly red glow all across the chamber. Something moved behind Megatron. Soundwave watched him from the shadows, his violet visor blank and still. Starscream looked into his visor and saw his own reflection, his frame bright blue with spilt energon and his wings covered in deep scratches.

"Milord," Starscream said. He didn't even put any thought into the word, it just came stumbling out as his spark pulsed even harder in his chestplates. "I found a new vein for you, milord, all for just you and the Decepticon cause."

Starscream edged away, pressing his talon even harder against the bleeding wound in his back. Hot wet energon welled up between his talons. Megatron's talons still had his dried energon on them.

Megatron stared. "I see. It is good to watch you finally support the cause and not your selfish ambitions for once."

Starscream's shoulders slumped and a great gust of air came out of his vents as his shoulders sagged. "Yes, of course," Starscream said, his entire frame loosening as pure relief washed through his systems. "Of course."

Megatron walked closer and stood beside Starscream, making the Seeker's spark leap in his chestplates. A cold clammy feeling suddenly spread throughout his struts.

"Such a rich vein. It would be a shame if it were to be lost."

"Oh, yes, milord, that would be terrible. But I'm sure the drones won't mess up for once—"

"Such a shame. Such a shame," Megatron said, walking closer and closer to Starscream, forcing the Seeker to walk backwards.

"Which is why—!" Starscream began as his wings twitched. More energon dripped out from his back. For a moment something violet flashed in the corner of his vision, but when Starscream looked, there was nothing there. "Which is precisely why I plan on the entire army getting to benefit from the power this energon will provide."

Megatron was silent.

"All I have to do is make sure there's enough energon here to last me," a voice said.

Starscream froze. That voice that had spoken just now sounded exactly like his.

Soundwave stepped forward from the shadows. "A stash of my own energon here, a stash there, and Megatron none the wiser," Starscream's voice recording said.

"A stash of my own energon here—" the recording repeated.

Megatron began to walk forward.

"No, milord—" Starscream gasped out.

" —a stash there—" the voice recording spoke out.

Megatron sneered, the glow of the energon glinting across his fangs.

"—and Megatron none the wiser." The recording finished.

"Pathetic." Megatron sneered as his talon grabbed ahold of Starscream's neck cables. He hoisted Starscream up into the air and wrenched him forward till Starscream's wide-eyed faceplate was only mere inches away from his own. "Right after I punish you, you continue to indulge yourself in more trickery."

"Trickery?! How is finding more energon trickery?"

"You are never alone. Never. Soundwave is always near, and he is my audials and my optics. I know of your plans!" Megatron tossed Starscream up into the air and across the chamber. Starcream slammed into the opposite wall, sending one of the jagged energon crystals right into his open wound. All of the air in his vents came rushing out of him in a harsh stuttering gasp as Megatron strode forward.

"No, no wait—" Starscream gasped out as sparks flew out from his frame, the bright flashes of light getting reflected across the crystals and making the narrow cave flash over and over again.

"How many times must we do this, Starscream?"

"I did not betray you! I was merely musing to myself on how... how useful this mine would be to you, yes! You didn't see what you thought you saw!"

"Starscream, Starscream, we both know that's a lie."

Starscream scrambled across the jagged rocks, his vents coming in hot and fast. Starscream ran into the depths of the cave, skid around a corner, and came to a dead end. His optics widened and raw terror flooded his field as Megatron's massive pedesteps shook the ground. He lashed out with his energon covered talons and slashed and slashed over and over again at the rock wall before him, desperately hoping there was another hidden chamber behind it.

Starscream offlined his optics. Megatron drew nearer and nearer. He could feel his wound bleeding even more now. Starscream sighed, a deep and heavy sigh that shook his entire frame. There was no point in trying to escape.

Megatron's arm shot out and he grabbed ahold of the tip of Starscream's wing, tightly shoving the Seeker up against the wall with his massive talons.

"I know you were planning on using this energon from yourself! You can never escape from me, Starscream. Never. You will always come back to me!" Megatron growled, his hot vents grazing the side of Starscream's helm. Starscream froze in his grasp, his talons weakly trying to pry away the thick warlord's arm from around his waist. "I suppose I'll have to tear your wings again… apparently, that's the only thing that keeps you tame."

"No, milord, I promise it won't happen again—"

Starscream's optics widened as he heard one of Megatron's talons transform into a sword. His jaw fell as he felt his abdomen light up with hot agony. The delicate sensors and nerves of his abdomen split and tore and snapped away as Megatron's sword sliced through them. Megatron threw him to the ground and loomed over him, raising his pede and bringing it down hard upon his chestplates. Starscream yelled as he felt the struts within his chest break and snap, as felt his inner mechanics shear and tear away under the weight the pede, as he felt a hot lance of pure agony shoot through him as Megatron crushed his sparkchamber—

Starscream laid there, his entire abdomen and back a waterfall of energon as Megatron leaned in even closer.

"I am always wiser. You will always come back to me. Always."


Starscream woke up. His frame shook and rattled as he took in deep vents, his wings clattering against the berth beneath him.

Starscream shook his helm and screwed his optics shut. "Just a nightmare. Just a nightmare," he breathed out, his field expanding outward, cold with fear.

A voice murmured in the distance and he froze, slowly turning his helm and looking out at the medbay. The Autobot base was dirty and filled with a blend of Cybertronian and human technologies clustered together. Starscream blinked, looking out over the medbay as it shifted and blurred before him. He groaned and propped an elbow beneath him, sitting up—

Something yanked him back down. Starscream grunted, annoyance flaring in his field at the chains around his wrists.

"What is the meaning of this?" he growled out, straining against the chains.

"Well, we couldn't just let you stroll around, now could we?" a voice said. Ratchet came in through the door, watching Starscream's vitals on a computer nearby.

Starscream blinked, his memories hazy and confusing. He had been in the Harbinger with Airachnid, she betrayed him, then the Autobots had arrived, then he was in the canyon. Beyond that, everything was a blur, a hazy memory of falling rocks and bright red and blue armor.

"He's awake, unfortunately," Ratchet mumbled to somebody. Heavy pedesteps resounded through the air. Starscream froze.

Optimus Prime walked around the corner and Starscream felt a hot jolt of panic flood his systems.

He remembered now—the falling rocks, the collapsed cavern, rocks above him, Optimus wrapping his arms around him.

"You need a friend," Optimus had said, his voice and field warm.

Hot shame flooded Starscream, the memories rushing back to him. He remembered pacing through the narrow cavern, energon dripping painfully from his wings, with even more painful words being exchanged back and forth.

"Calm down," Ratchet said. Starscream's spark pulse erupted into a frenzy of panicked beeping.

"Just calm down," Ratchet repeated. Starscream recoiled, straining against the chains.

"Calm down? Wha—I'm chained to a berth, and you're telling me to calm down?"

"Starscream," Optimus said, approaching the berth. He was tall, incredibly tall, and Starscream couldn't help but flinch back as he approached. Optimus stopped immediately, a sudden frown crossing his faceplate as he watched Starscream. He wasn't sure why, but Starscream got the feeling that he had done something wrong.

His spark pulse lessened and the rapid beeping faded away. Ratchet took a deep vent of relief, grumbling something about "pesky Seekers" under his breath. He looked between Optimus and Starscream before clearing his intake.

"Well. I'm on my way out," Ratchet said. Starscream jolted. For some reason, the idea of the medic leaving him alone with Optimus worried him.

"No, wait—"

"I'll just be out here," Ratchet said. As he walked away, he exchanged a look with Optimus.

Suddenly, there was silence. The only sound was the quiet beeping and whirring of the medbay machines and the slight rattle of Starscream's chains.

"Optimus," Starscream said. His glossa felt thick in his intake and he shifted in the chains, feeling the cool, lapping waves of Optimus's calm field brushing against his frazzled one.

"Starscream," Optimus said, inclining his helm. "Let me tell you a story."

Starscream blinked and looked over at Optimus. "A story? What, like some Autobot fable?" he laughed. He normally had a plan for all sorts of situations, but storytime with the Prime was new.

Optimus blinked, narrowing his optics at Starscream.

"Not quite. I had a friend. He was… quite a lot like you in many ways. He was bright, passionate—"

"A good flyer?" Starscream said nervously, twisting his servos around in the chains.

Optimus frowned, shaking his helm. "He wanted to go off and do great things, meet great bots, and do all sorts of adventurous things. He looked out at the stars and wanted to go to every single one of them."

Starscream shifted on the berth, the chains clinking as he turned to look around at Optimus. The Prime stared into space, a distance look on his optics and his field drawn tight by grief.

"He was a great friend."

"Why are you telling me this?" Starscream said softly, a deep sense of unease settling within him. Anxiety bubbled up and sunk through his frame as Optimus stared on.

"Because it needs to be told. And because the two of you are very different bots, yes, but you are still very similar in many ways. He wanted to go and visit every single star. He burned up in them. I do not want that to happen to you," Optimus said, looking at Starscream. The Seeker flinched and looked away, anxiety rising sharply in his field.

"That… was a terrible warning. Was that supposed to be a threat, a warning to snuff my spark if I do something wrong?" Starscream scoffed, flicking his wings behind him in agitation.

"No. I gave you that warning to save your spark. I have watched countless mechs and femmes burn themselves up and lose themselves in this endless war, and I do not want the same to happen to you. I think you have potential, Starscream."

Silence fell. Starscream opened his intake to say—something, he wasn't sure what—but closed it.

From up close, Prime was huge, this towering monolith of red and blue armor with piercingly bright blue optics. To Starscream, that was what Prime had always been; a threat, a massive mech, and one of the hardest hitters on the battlefield.

But now that same massive mech was seated in front of Starscream on a nearby crate. Optimus was looming above Starscream, as he always had so many times before—but there was something different about the Prime. He couldn't tell what, but there was something off in the way he moved and the way he looked at Starscream.

Starscream scrambled through his processor, trying to find something, anything to say—but he came up blank.

"I meant it, you know," Optimus said softly.

"Meant what?"

"That I would be your friend."

Starscream froze. "Wha—Oh... oh." Starscream mumbled, the memories returning to him. He remembered the dust floating in the air, the rocks surrounding him, throwing all his barbed words and anger and frustration at the Prime in his rants—and he remembered Optimus's promise.

"That's, uh," Starscream said, anger blooming up in his field. He should be able to find something to say to that, some way to twist the situation to his advantage, he should be able to read Prime like a book and figure out every little thing he's thinking.

But he just couldn't. Optimus sat there, his field smooth and calm as it flowed around him, an unreadable look in his optics

"If you prove yourself to be trustworthy, then you can become an Autobot."

Starscream's spark pulsed in his chestplates. "It would be quite the upgrade from these chains," Starscream said, twitching on the berth. He craned his helm and looked down at the Decepticon insignia on his chestplate, the bright red finish glinting in the light of the medbay. A brief burst of anxiety suddenly twisted through him, memories of writhing in pain as the hot brand was burned into his chest coming back to him.

Optimus watched him in the corner of his optic, his smooth and calm field twisting strangely again.

"I could be useful," Starscream said suddenly, the chains clinking as his processor went into overdrive. Bots lived and died based off of how useful they were. That was something Megatron had taught him. "I can do scouting missions and can find energon. I can assure you, I won't give you a reason to dispose of me." Starscream rambled out, his processor in overdrive and Primus, was he trying to prove his usefulness to Prime? That's not how this was supposed to go—

Optimus frowned, his field growing tighter around him. Starscream grimaced, fear welling up in him. He had faced down Megatron and had faced down much more brutal Autobots before; he could handle Prime. He took a deep invent, felt the chains rattle and the gritty dust from the cave sliding around in his transformation seams, and waited for Optimus's response.

"I see," Optimus said, his field twisting strangely again. He turned around to face Starscream, and there it was again, that wrong feeling of offness, the sensation that something wasn't right. "Is that what you still think?" Optimus continued, grief pouring into his field, and—pity.

That was the emotion, the source of the strange twist in Optimus's field, the strange look in his optics.

"I…" Starscream began. He was not used to pity. He was used to the acidic smell of distrust lingering in mech's fields when he passed them by, the stench of disgust that would pulse in their fields when he begged for his life before Megatron. But pity, that strange emotion that made mech's fields wrench around and echo in grief—he was not used to it.

Starscream thought of the cave. Optimus had felt pity then, and it had been overwhelming. The sheer weight of it had crashed down over his helm, and Starscream remembered breaking under it. He couldn't remember the last time someone felt bad for him, the last time someone looked at the blood pooling under his still frame and thought this isn't right.

"I don't know," Starscream admitted. He'd met huge mechs before, walking collections of armor and weaponry, huge mechs he'd cower and shiver under as they looked at him. But when Optimus looked at Starscream with that sadness in his optics, Starscream did not know what to feel.

Starscream thought of the cave, dust swirling around him as he cried in Optimus's arms. Hot shame flooded his frame again.

"You will not be disposed of because you are a person. People are not disposed of the same way trash is. I am better than that. We are better than that. Even if our attempt to integrate you into our team ends in failure—an outcome I dearly hope will not come to pass—I hope that you will walk away from us feeling better about yourself."

"Oh, of course," Starscream scoffed, his wings fluttering behind him, "this all just one big charity mission, isn't it? To prove yourself better than the Decepticons?" he said, feeling the dust and dirt of the cave rattling around in his frame, sliding between his plating.

"No, it's more than charity. Because how can we expect to defeat the Decepticons if we are no better than them? What does that say about them, that they cannot even properly treat their own soldiers with respect?"

The name hung unsaid in the air, an image of a silver warlord and burning red optics flashing into Starscream's processor. Something was moving around by Starscream's servo and he craned his helm to look down, his optics widening.

"Are you—?"

Optimus loosened the chains around both of his servos. They fell away and Starscream shot up, rubbing his wrists as he stared warily at Prime. He ran a scan over his systems and saw that his weapons were disabled.

"I think that it is alright for you to be unrestrained as long as you are being supervised."

Starscream got up and stood right beside Optimus, his wing brushing against the berth. Starscream looked down and saw a dark grey patch covering the gash in his wing.

"But why?" Starscream said, his wings nervously slicing through the air behind him.

"Because you need a friend. And I cannot afford to let another bot burn themselves out," Optimus said, his field twisting in pity again. "It's time for you to meet the others."


The command deck was quiet.

Far too quiet.

Megatron stared out the viewport and at the dark rolling clouds beyond. His frame was lit up by the harsh violet glow of the computer consoles and the bright flashes of lightning beyond the glass.

Soundwave stood in the corner, his visor reflecting Megatron as he stared out at the shifting storm clouds, a frown on his scarred faceplate.

Over millennia of warfare, one learns to read their commander, and Megatron was like an open book. His field was practically nonexistent, held tightly to the sharp curves of his armor, his piercing red optics stared out at the rolling clouds.

Something was wrong. The air flowed differently and there was something strange about the way Megatron held his shoulders. An odd sense of offness that lingered in the air and in the way the drones moved around him.

"Where is he?" Megatron said, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. Thunder boomed in the distance and lightning flashed, the light reflecting off of his sharp talons.

Soundwave knew who Megatron was talking about. And he did not know the answer.

Megatron scowled, walking down the bridge and over to Soundwave, the drones nearby tensing up as he approached. "He should be back, this was a relatively simple mission, and yet he is not here."

Soundwave tilted his helm. A life signal was approaching the doors to the command deck. He could feel her field all the way from here, all haughty and arrogant and self assured.

"This is not unusual. Not at all. It is normal for him to have his temper tantrums, to flee, only to inevitably return to my side later on—yet it seems he is now taking his time," Megatron growled.

Soundwave inclined his helm. Airachnid stood outside the doors to the command deck, his thousand cameras scattered through the Nemesis watching her every moment as she confidently strode up to the doors. He'd seen the way she swayed before, the self-assured smirk on her faceplates and that glint in her optics. He'd seen many, many mechs and femmes with that confident look, that look a bot has when they feel like they have the whole world in their servos. He'd seen that glint in their optics and he could see it in hers.

He wondered if he would see it go out.

The door slid open. Megatron whirled around.

"Where—?" Megatron boomed, inches away from Airachnid. She didn't flinch and remained perfectly still as the warlord loomed in front of her. A mistake. "Where is he?" Megatron continued, his voice slow and tight. His field briefly thrashed around him, smothering everything in a hiss of static.

"Ah, yes, Starscream. That traitor." Airachnid began, idly inspecting her servos. Soundwave watched her examine her own frame, confidence and arrogance oozing from her transformation seams. He wondered if she'd ever get to transform again. "He—"

"Where is he? Do not lie to me, wretch. I am well versed in the ways of treachery, all thanks to him!" Megatron growled, pacing around the bridge, his servos clasped tightly behind his back.

There it was again. That subtle feeling of wrongness infusing the air again, a slight sensation that something just wasn't right. This was not the first time Starscream had fled and lost his command post, only to return and reclaim it again. Soundwave could not understand why Megatron allowed the Seeker to keep crawling back over and over again, yet he respected his Lord's wishes nevertheless.

Starscream would vanish, vowing vengeance, and would return again. And Megatron was hardly ever concerned; he would stand at the viewport, Starscream would flee, and he would wait for the Seeker to come. He would stand tall, he would wait for him to return, and await the inevitable assassination attempt. He was hardly ever concerned at all about Starscream's disappearances.

But now—the way Megatron loomed over Airachnid, the way his plating shifted and the way his optics flared—Megatron sensed the offness too. Soundwave could tell.

"I am so sorry to say this, milord," Airachnid continued as she skittered around, her voice dripping with false honey as she sounded out the word milord. "But I am afraid that Starscream perished. We had retrieved the Immobilizer, only for the Autobots to arrive. It was all very confusing, you see, and I tried to defend him—"

Megatron's servos creaked as he twisted them into tight fists by his sides.

"—I really did—"

Megatron's optics grew brighter.

"—but I am sorry to say that the Autobots got him in the end. I am so sorry, milord," Airachnid said. She frowned and her field twisted around her in some false attempt to imitate sadness. Soundwave had seen much better acting skills than that.

Apparently, so had Megatron.

He slammed a fist down onto a nearby console, sending glass flying off into the air with a burst of light and sound.

"You dare lie to me? I want the truth, and I want it now. What happened to Starscream? Where is he?" Megatron growled out, looming above Airachnid.

"I—"

"Milord?" A drone said from the other end of the bridge.

Megatron's helm swiveled around to face the drone, a scowl on his faceplates. "What is it?" he snapped out.

The drone shriveled under Megatron's piercing glare. "Milord, it's just that—the Autobots have raided another mine."

Megatron stood there, his field frothing and seething with rage. Airachnid shuddered and stepped back, inching her way to the door, a strong undercurrent of relief and frustration coursing through her field.

"We lost mine D-12, milord. It was not one of the major mines, but it was still a rather large deposit," the drone shook out, his armor clanking against his protoform.

Megatron returned to staring out at the rolling clouds beyond the viewport, Airachnid long forgotten. "Of course. My second-in-command is missing, and the Autobots are getting ambitious again. Do not let them claim that mine."

Soundwave nodded and sent a message to the head miner to prepare for combat. As a squadron of battle drones raced through the groundbridge Soundwave turned to look at Megatron. He'd returned to standing at the head of the deck, the raging storm outside matching his wrathful field as it twisted around him.

That subtle feeling of offness did not go away. Something was wrong. He had a feeling that this was no regular vanishing act, nor was it another petty temper tantrum. Something was off with Starscream.

Airachnid began to leave. Megatron's arm shot out and a massive bolt of energy exploded from his fusion cannon. It burst through the air and slammed into the wall inches away from Airachnid's helm. She froze and watched the wall melt away in a hot-red puddle of slag.

Megatron stared at her from across the room, his bright red optics glowing in the dark like hot coals. Airachnid shivered and hurriedly pressed the open button before practically running out of the doors as they slid open.

Yes, something was wrong with Starscream. Megatron could feel it and so could Soundwave.

And Soundwave would figure out just what was wrong.