Starscream was on his feet in an instant, a sneer automatically slotting into place as his fingers closed, oh so subtly, around the scalpel beside him. Questions jumbled his processor. Who is he? I don't recognize him. How'd he get here? I didn't hear engines. And finally, with both bewilderment and disgust: Why is he so filthy?
The stranger wasn't just grimy, but sandblasted. His paint might have been black at one time, or dark grey. A padded harness, crisscrossing his narrow chest, did little to hide the dents and dings gouged into his chassis and his legs, already slender, were made moreso by the cracked casing chipping off his lower legs. One kneeguard was snapped clean off. His wings were as battered as the rest of him. One lifted more, the other drooped, giving him a lopsided appearance.
Obviously it was some kind of trick. But who would subject their frame to such abuse, yet disguise their station so poorly? Or was Starscream meant to recognize the black Seeker's caste as part of a deeper ploy, and if so what might that be?
His view of the stranger was cut off as Skyfire surged to impose his bulk between them, his wings flared protectively. Too aggressive, too obvious, too uncouth. But Skyfire was no well-bred noble, expected to be versed in the finer arts, at all time elegant, haughty, in control. He was merely a shuttle.
Starscream found his presence comforting to a shameful degree.
"Hello, sir," Skyfire greeted the worn-down Seeker, his tone deceptively mild compared to his narrowed eyes. "Are you lost?"
"Yep, big guy, you hit the nail on the head," he said in an accent that could only be described as common. Not a word fell out of his mouth but it was clipped or contorted in some disgusting hybrid of Praxian and Kaonian accents. "What about you guys? Didjer engine give out or didja just stop for some nookie?"
Skyfire visibly recoiled, which was the worst way he could possibly have responded, because obviously the stranger would take that as an admission of . . . well, not guilt, because Starscream could dally with whomever he wished, that was the point of being at the top, now wasn't it? It wasn't uncommon for a Noble to indulge in a little something on the side . . . Did Skyfire know that? Was that why he was reluctant, so coy . . . ?
"Of course we weren't doing–that. We were just making some scientific observations . . ." Skyfire glanced pleadingly at Starscream for help.
He's right, he would make a poor bodyguard, Starscream was forced to admit. He's far too open, too honest. But still . . .
Starscream forced his attention back to the matter at hand; whoever this bot was, no matter how clever he thought he was, Starscream was not going to cave to his pathetic attempt at blackmail.
"As my companion says, our interest here was purely intellectual." Starscream said with a smooth smile. "We wanted to examine this interesting rock formation. And you?"
"I was hauling a bunch of stuff. But then it fell." He fingered the coil of steel rope looped around his shoulder, swinging the frayed end carelessly. "Not my fault or anything. Just bad luck, you know how it goes."
"I do indeed." The rope seemed to be just rope, not an electro-whip. Of course most Nobles opted for subtle means of getting rid of their competition–a bit of poison here, a medic bribed during surgery there. Outright violence was boorish. Gauche. Still, it didn't hurt to be cautious. (Nova Gleam leaping towards him, knife in her hand, despair in her eyes, sometimes he woke wearing that same look.) "And where is this 'stuff', praytell?"
"It's back there." The black Seeker waved an arm vaguely eastward to bolster his obvious lie. "Hey, you wouldn't be interested in loadin' it up, wouldja?" he said, aiming the question directly at Skyfire even though Starscream was standing right there. "Sure would make my life easier."
"Ah, well, I . . . I already have a job." Skyfire looked uncomfortable, flitting a glance at Starscream.
"Me too, and it's gonna suck celluloid if I show up empty-handed," the black Seeker whined. His tone lowered suggestively as he leaned forward. "C'mon, help a guy out. I'll make it worth your while, yeah? We can leave your buddy to play with his microscope or whatever, while we play with–"
"He's not interested!" Starscream's hands were clenched, his lip curled in a snarl. That would never do, he was behaving like an amateur, an ingenue; this horrid mech had somehow sniffed out his affection for Skyfire (wait no, his appreciation of his employee's professionalism) and was using it to get on his nerves. And it was working. Starscream forced a smile. "Ahem. I'm sure your 'workplace' will happily send someone to retrieve your 'goods'—" Yes, let the sarcasm drip, let it flow like poisoned cyber-honey. "—so I recommend you return to them, post-haste."
"My name's not Post Haste, it's Skywarp," the newly identified Skywarp said, "and flyin' back isn't exactly an option, y'know?"
He twisted around, and with a thrill of shock Starscream saw the raw circuitry sparking in the gash on the back of his drooped wing, sand gritted into the open wound. Beside him he heard Skyfire gasp.
Starscream swallowed, feeling a surge of fear. Who would go through such lengths, visit such pain on themselves, just to get close to him? Was this an overly ambitious newbie, or a foxy old veteran who waited quietly in the shadows, picking off vulnerable opponents one by one. "You're injured."
Skywarp rolled his optics; one flickered with the motion. "No duh. Listen, can I have some energon at least?"
"Well." Starscream's mind raced. "Perhaps. Yes. It will take a few minutes for me to retrieve it."
"Hey, thanks buddy!" Skywarp's face lit up in a smile. "I mean, I'd love a lift—" another hopeful glance at Skyfire, "—but I get it, you're probably on the clock for, uh, the science guys or whoever. Just gimme a shout when it's ready, I'll be over there trying not to fry . . ." He stumbled towards the shade of the monolithic stone on his petite little heels.
Smaller than Starscream's. He hated this wretched mech.
"Starscream, who is he? Do you know him?" Skyfire whispered, leaning down.
"I don't believe so." But he wasn't sure. It was hard to imagine any of his elegant compatriots affecting "Skywarp's" ridiculous mannerisms and crude accent . . . but wasn't that what made it the perfect disguise?
Then too, all the Nobles looked so similar. Which was the point, of course. Technically speaking every flier in Vos was a Seeker, even the heavy-plated grunts who toiled away in the factories of the lower levels. But everyone knew a proper Seeker had long legs, sharp wings, a small waist. And so the rare newsparks selected for the Noble caste had the longest legs, the sharpest wings, and the most pinched waists of all.
The Nobles carried the glory of Vos on their wings. It was beneath them to let words slop out of their vocalizer like a half-drunk laborer. And yet, here they were. Here "Skywarp" was.
But not for long. Starscream fished a cube of energon out of his subspace. "Keep an eye on him, would you, Skyfire? In case he tries anything."
"Of course, Starscream," Skyfire said without hesitation, and Starscream's spark fluttered. Skyfire was something special. For a shuttle.
"Don't get too close!" Starscream called after him. Nobles weren't supposed to target the lower castes, but collateral damage wasn't unheard of. And there was only going to be one death today. Starscream's hand closed around the vial of poison in his subspace.
"Starscream!" Skyfire cried.
Starscream's wings drew down guiltily, almost dropping the vial. "W-what? It's merely an flavor additive–"
"Come quickly! I think he's dying!"
"What?" His optics narrowed suspiciously as he hurried over to Skyfire, who was wringing his hands as he stood over Skywarp's still form. The black Seeker was seated with his back against the rock, arms half-crossed in his lap. His lightless optics stared at nothing, his head askew and mouth fallen open.
"What are we going to do?" Skyfire cried, as though this was a tragedy rather than a boon.
"What a shame," Starscream said, trying to look sad. He gestured towards the sand. "Oh well, let's bury him and–"
"Energon! Starscream, you're such a quick thinker." Skyfire whisked the cube out of Starscream's hand mid-gesture and broke the seal with his thumb, crouching to pour a trickle of energon into Skywarp's intake.
Starscream froze, then surreptitiously pushed the unopened vial back into his subspace.
EMERGENCY! Fuel level critical: 4%
EMERGENCY! Fuel level low: 8%
Fuel level low: 15%
Fuel level: 20%
Skywarp pried his optics open. Several enormous faces swam before his eyes, eventually merging into one. The big white shuttle leaned back, looking relieved.
"Oh," Skywarp said. He pressed a palm over his optics, rubbing at them. "Guess I fell asleep for a minute there."
"I'm so sorry, sir," the shuttle said, sounding weirdly contrite considering he was a stranger who didn't know Skywarp from a jackhammer. "I had no idea you were so under-energized. I would have given you some of my energon if I'd known—"
"Although, in fact, that's my energon you're drinking," the grey Seeker interrupted. His mouth was drawn up in a rigid smile that had a hint of dentae behind it.
"Well, thanks buddy!" Skywarp said. (The grey Seeker's mouth twitched oddly.) "Not gonna lie, I was pretty nervous about comin' up to you guys, but you really saved my aft. Not everyone woulda done that."
"Noble Starscream isn't just anyone," the shuttle said, looking with pride at the grey Seeker, who made a small startled sound in the back of his throat. "He's very level-headed in an emergency."
"Yeah," Skywarp said vaguely, because everything ached and, energized or no, he couldn't bring himself to care about the shuttle's flirting. (Which just showed how tired he was, normally he was all over gossip like buzz-flies over rancid energon.) He levered himself to his feet, using the rock's face as a support. "Well, I'd better be going."
"Oh, so soon?" the grey bot—Noble—said, crossing his arms. Still smiling, though. "And where are you going, exactly?"
"To the workcamp, the one northeast of here." The overseer there was nasty as a silver-snake. No chance of pay, not with all the cargo missing. Which meant no chance of food tonight. And he couldn't fly. Which meant no food tomorrow. Or, like, ever.
Worries for later. Surviving the current moment was enough. Just keep kicking that moment down the road. Survive, survive, survive.
"Thanks again," Skywarp said, stepping out of the boulder's shadow. Even at this late hour, the heat made the horizon waver. I just gotta make it to camp. "Good luck with your science stuff."
He heard whispers behind him as he trudged away, voices as soft as persistent as the wind brushing sand down the dunes.
"Skywarp, wait!" The ground reverberated as the shuttle hurried after him, easily crossing the distance with his huge strides. "We—that is to say, Noble Starscream—would like to offer you a ride."
"Yes, to your work camp. I can't wait to see your workcamp," Noble Starscream said. "So do allow us to take you there, won't you?"
"For real?" Skywarp's voice quavered. Frag . . . this was the nicest bot he'd ever met. "Thank you! Thanks so much! And thank you too, shuttle!"
Noble's smile slipped a fraction. "His name is Skyfire," he snapped.
