Hello! More BLU! (haha, blu...blue).
Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Transformers (unfortunately)
Enjoy!
"How long has our liege been like this?" Deathstrike circled the comatose warlord.
"A week or two," the Seeker responded.
Deathstrike whipped around, optics blazing. "And you are just now calling me because…?"
"There were more important matters."
"More important than the well-being of our leader?" Deathstrike's optics began to glow brighter.
"That isn't the point!" Starscream growled. "We are here to see how he is doing, so how is he doing? Soundwave is to document this for further referencing."
"His body is suffering from a multitude of internal and external injuries. Despite this, there is still evidence of brain wave activity. He is, to put it, alive inside."
Starscream looked to Soundwave, who merely turned and left.
Or rather, he left Starscream with Deathstrike.
"What are you really doing here?"
Deathstrike continued his work. "What ever do you mean?"
"You did not return just for our lordship. What is it that you want?"
The other turned, his black and red gaze burning a hole into the Seeker's core. "It would be your concern how?"
The Seeker's deep red gaze burned as he crossed his servos. "Don't play stupid, Deathstrike. I know you. Anyone who does recognizes the fact that you don't care for anyone." He approached the medic, wings raised high. "So tell me, dear doctor, what are you really doing here?"
Deathstrike completely faced the newly appointed Decepticon leader. His optics were narrow and blazing, the look on his faceplate dangerous and feral. He said nothing as he advanced on his superior, who backed away, wings dropping. The medic had been like this before, centuries ago…
Starscream strolled down the walkway, deep in thought over the recent events that had occurred. A roar echoed throughout the complex, startling him. Lord Megatron was enraged.
The Autobots had attacked Tyger Pax, their current refuge, barely a breem ago; not even a full orn. They had been desperate for news, for Energon, for anything.
Starscream smirked.
They had given it their all, but it hadn't been enough.
He paused near a door. Shouts of desperation and incitement came behind.
The interrogation had begun.
Soundwave had recently captured the Autobot scout Bumblebee, after finding him sneaking through the drain pipes in a futile escape attempt. Their fight was brief, as the scout was no match for the master spy and warrior. Soundwave had nearly killed him, and would have done so, if Starscream had not stopped him. The spy was terrifyingly ruthless and violent, traits that were only enhance by his Vow, as well as other things.
"We need him," Starscream had insisted. "Lord Megatron will want him for questioning. You can have him after."
The spy tilted his helm at the Air Commander. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, as his featureless face and noiseless movements revealed nothing. After a moment of silence—hoping, in Starscream's case, that the spy would not turn and attack him instead of their unconscious foe—Soundwave nodded.
Coming from his thoughts, the lieutenant entered the room, his auditory receptors harassed by the screams of the tortured, the dying-all results of Soundwave's telepathic abilities and Megatron's rage, all a constant reminder of the power of the Decepticons.
The Autobot was strapped to a berth that had been moved to the center of the room. He was venting heavily, Energon covering his black and yellow frame. Next to him was Deathstrike, their medic and assassin, servos crossed and a black, venomous look on his faceplate. His right servo was transformed into its circular buzzsaw, Energon covering its lethal teeth. Starscream realized that it had been the doctor who had injured the Autobot, not Megatron. He could see the feral hunger and insanity hidden deep in the assassin's gaze and knew it was barely restrained.
"Starscream, how good of you to join us." Megatron's deep, gravelly voice sounded from the shadows. "Let us begin." Moving forward with long, menacing strides, the Decepticon leader grasped the Autobot's throat, tearing him from the restraints and raising him high. The scout hissed in pain as his injured chassis was moved, hands scrabbling at the enormous servos that held him.
"Let me go, you—"He cut off as the warlord's grip tightened, claws drawing Energon from the conduits on the scout's throat.
"You would be wise to watch your tongue, Autobot," the Decepticon leader growled. "I am not in the mood and am still deciding how useful you are to our cause."
"You're slagging crazy if you think that I would ever help you!" the Autobot gasped, Energon running down his throat.
"Oh, but you will, dear Bumblebee." Megatron laughed; it was a dark, rumbling sound that would always send terror down Starscream's spinal component.
Bringing Bumblebee close to his faceplate, with his fang-like teeth bared, Megatron growled,
"Where are the Autobots?"
The scout's optics widened, and a harsh bark escaped his vocalizer, a sound similar to a mocking laugh. "Like I'd…ever tell…you." His vocalizer gurgled with the Energon rising in it.
Megatron growled and threw the prisoner to the floor.
"Take him outside," he ordered a squadron. "All will see what happens when I am disobeyed." He left, followed by Soundwave, leaving Starscream with Deathstrike.
"You should be more careful around the others," he told the medic. "You could have snapped."
Deathstrike vented harshly. "I know what I am doing. I have it under control."
"No, you do not. You cannot simply waltz in here looking ready to offline the nearest drone."
"Theirs is bland," the assassin remarked, "But I cannot attack a regular." A mad glint sparked in his optics, and a realization hit the lieutenant.
"You have already done do," he stated, optics wide.
A low rumbling noise came from the Decepticon, his black and red optics burning. "I may or may have not." He faced the Air Commander. "You tell me."
Venting in irritation, Starscream scrolled through his mental archives of who Deathstrike despised—which was nearly everyone.
"Skyquake," he said eventually. "You attacked Skyquake."
Deathstrike snarled, a sound fit for a being like him. "The big lug cannot watch where he is going or what he does."
"That is not a good reason."
"I did not say it was or was not."
Ignoring that statement, he vented. "Where is he know?"
"Air patrol , where else?"
"That is not what I mean." He crossed his servos.
Deathstrike faced him, an annoyed look on his faceplate. At that moment, the door opened. Blackgarnet, the mysterious tactician, weapons specialist, and spy second in rank to Soundwave appeared.
"Lord Megatron grows impatient," the black and red Decepticon stated. " He wish to know what is taking so long."
"I am of higher authority than you," Starscream growled at the warrior. "You will respect me."
Blackgarnet scowled. "Do not play rank, Starscream. We are both warriors."
"I am second in command!" the heeled lieutenant roared. In his peripheral vision, he noticed Deathstrike stiffen, optics flickering from light to dark, light-dark. The look that symbolized something…
Something…
…That look.
Look…
An excruciating pain tore through the lieutenant, tearing him from his reverie. As his optics readjusted, he took in his surroundings, one above him catching his attention the most.
Deathstrike stood glaring down at him, optics blazing and Energon staff in servo. In the background, Breakdown stood at a computer, monitoring whatever was on its screen.
"What do you think you are doing? You cannot attack you commanding officer!" Starscream shouted, leaping to his stabilizing servos. "What am I doing here? Why was I on the floor?"
"Pass out on my floor again and you will become the floor!" Deathstrike growled, his wings raised.
"We're in the medical bay! This is not 'your floor'!"
"No, we are not. We are in my lab." He motioned around them at the room they were in. they were in his lab.
"How did I get here?"
"Breakdown and I were already here," the medic said, motioning to his assistant. "Blackstand found you in a forced stasis in the meeting room, so he brought you here so I could check and make sure nothing is wrong." Deathstrike's optics narrowed. "Unfortunately, there is no life-threatening illness you have contracted. You are perfectly fine."
Starscream stared at the medic. There was something off about the way he held himself, as if he were exhausted beyond reason, but enraged at the fact that he had been bothered by something that hadn't been on significance to him. Proof of this was the fire in his optics, the smoldering inferno that contained his many secrets.
"If you are finished staring into oblivion, sir," a voice said, bringing him back to the present. "You can leave." It was Breakdown.
"I can stay as long as I desire," the Decepticon stated, crossing his servos and raising his wings.
Breakdown shook his helm. "Not today, you can't. Deathstrike needs rest."
"Oh? And what would be the cause of this?"
Breakdown's yellow optics hardened. "You know as well as I what the reason is.
Realization flashed in Starscream's processor, a smug look covering his faceplate despite his contained fear. "Confine him. Do not let him escape." He turned and left.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Breakdown called after the retreating officer. "You glitch."
He vented, in and out, slowly. It was attempting to resurface, and no matter how hard he fought, despite external appearances it would do so eventually.
Focus. Control. Do not let it overwhelm. Do not let it break free. Risks are not an option.
Though he released it at times, at the moment, the energy needed for such a task was something he did not have.
Focus. Control. Do not let it overwhelm. Do not let it—
Pain tore its toxic path through him, and he inhaled sharply, claws digging into his armor.
Focus. Control.
Control.
The pain continued, and he forced himself to his pedes, steadying himself with a hand on the wall. Acid fire burned through his veins, tremors shaking his chassis, claws scoring the wall.
Set me free.
Destroy.
Set.
Me.
Free.
Ooh, cliffhanger! Sorry if this was boring or anything (if it was, I promise it will get better). Read and review, pleaze!