6. Truth
Starscream complemented his story with databursts, transmitting memories of specific battles and the downtime between them, contrasting the monotony and harshness of pre-War survival with the delicious freedom of the War. Through him I felt true hunger for the first time—it was enough fool my systems into sending low energon warnings. He even shared the aftermath of Axis, how he had been separated from his wingmates and put into a crowded brig for the long journey back to Cybertron, before being chained and put on a work crew to rebuild Iacon piece by piece.
I first saw Megatron through Starscream's memory. He was larger even than Prime, a blend of smooth curving plates and jagged edges, a study in gray and red. He was a walking weapon, terrifying and beautiful at once.
And, from Starscream, a torrent of emotions: fear, awe, respect, bitterness, resentment, admiration, attraction, revulsion, hatred. I was startled by his vivid memories of Megatron. Processing the databursts he'd sent me—a small eternity in a few kliks – I realized that there was still so much that I didn't know about Starscream's past.
A lifetime's worth of leftover hatred for the Autobots raged in my Spark. It was a dizzying rush of foreign feelings and dangerous thoughts. A weaker mech might have sworn allegiance to the Decepticon cause and vowed to avenge Megatron right there—but these were Starscream's emotions, not mine.
That knowledge didn't help my deeper conflict. What Starscream had told me was completely different from what I had been taught. Part of me wanted to deny it. The other part knew somehow that there was truth in his words and wanted to trust him—to join him.
These two factions waged their own ferocious war inside me. I no longer knew what was true. I no longer knew what to believe. I couldn't trust the Academy. I couldn't trust Starscream. I couldn't even trust myself with such raw emotions destabilizing me.
But there was one mech I could trust.
I stood abruptly and left his tiny room, making my way out of the slave quarters. Every face I saw now had a name attached—Demolisher, Scrapper, Bombshell, more and more Decepticons I'd seen in the memories Starscream had chosen to give me. It only added to my disorientation.
If I'd rejected the depressing gloom of the Decepticon quarters, now the light of the upper levels seemed too bright. A lie. This purity, this light, was a façade—or was that only Starscream planting doubt in my Spark like a virus?
Starscream followed at the very edge of my sensors' range, matching my pace. He stopped outside of Prime's study, leaving me to go on alone.
Optimus was speaking with Ironhide when I entered, a bulky red-and-black groundling, one of Prime's closest friends. He'd had a good-natured relationship with me, once. After my upgrade his attitude had changed: he kept staring at me, jumping when he caught sight of me. Once, he had been so jumpy that he had actually taken defensive action. Starscream, of course, had found it hilarious. I saw nothing funny about being slammed into a wall and staring down the barrel of a very large cannon until Ironhide realized it was me.
Optimus took one look at my face and his optics flashed with concern. "Would you excuse us, Ironhide?" he asked politely. Ironhide grumbled, but didn't seem genuinely annoyed. No sooner had the door hissed shut behind him than I stormed forward and slammed my hands down on Prime's desk. He looked calmly across at me—even seated, he could look me straight in the optics when I was bent forward.
"What's the matter, Nova?" he asked, his patient, deep voice immediately siphoning some of the tension from my frame.
I didn't tell him about the weapon Starscream was building. Besides that, I told him everything. I could sense his expression darkening into a frown under his mask. When I wound down, he gestured to my usual chair and I sank into it, feeling drained.
"I'm… confused," I finished plaintively. "I want to know the truth. I trust you, Optimus. Tell me what to believe."
He surveyed me over his mask for a moment before retracting it with a sigh. He looked more tired than I'd ever seen him.
"I can tell you the truth," he said, "or as close to the truth as I've gotten... but which story you believe is up to you.
"Much of what Starscream told you is accurate. Megatron may at one time have believed in justice and freedom. It is true that the Senate was decadent, but not all Autobots were blind to the troubles of the time. Sentinel Prime led the Autobots then. He was critical of the Senate, devoted to law and order. He fought Megatron, and began the War. Yet if he hadn't fought, Megatron would have covered the planet with his vision of peace, created on the ruins of his enemies.
"Megatron... was a natural leader and a powerful fighter. If he once fought for freedom and equality, he lost sight of that goal. Eventually, he fought for the destruction of all Autobots.
"Axis was one of the true tragedies of the War. Many Autobots and Decepticons fought and died in that final battle, including Megatron. He may have been my enemy, but he deserved better. They all deserve better.
"I have seen cruel Autobots and kind Decepticons, terrible things done by both sides. I've made mistakes of my own, and for that I decided to step back from my power after the War—which may have been my greatest mistake, if it allowed the Decepticons to be enslaved. You asked for something to believe. My answer is this: nothing is black or white. Autobots can be evil, Decepticons good. You can never be sure of what others tell you, but you can always be sure of what you feel in your own Spark. Find your own truth, and wherever it takes you, hold onto it."
His words calmed me. "Thank you, Optimus."
"There's something I should tell you about Starscream."
"Something else you forgot to tell me?"
Regret flickered across his face. "I'd hoped you wouldn't need to know. But it's for your own sanity…" He chuckled before seriousness was back. "…and your safety. Starscream is sworn under Spark-oath to obey and protect you at any cost, even at the expense of his own life."
I stared at Prime. An oath taken during Sparkmerge was the most solemn vow a Cybertronian could take. If Starscream broke that vow, his Spark would burn itself out in an immensely slow and painful termination.
It took two to Sparkmerge. I voiced it awkwardly. "D-did you...?"
"Primus, no."
"Then who did he swear to?"
"That is for Starscream to tell. I respect his privacy and so should you."
I nodded, chastised.
"I hope that I have been able to help you, Nova. Would you send Starscream in?"
He offered no explanation, so I asked no questions.
Starscream waited just outside.
"You didn't tell me you're bound to me," I said.
"What Decepticon in his right mind would give an Autobot that sort of power?"
Something in the way he said it made me scowl. "Prime wants to talk to you," I told him. He huffed and entered the office. I turned up my audio receptors.
"What do you want, Prime?"
"I want you to stop this," Optimus said.
"Whatever do you mean?"
"What you're doing to Nova."
"Doing to him?"
"I won't let you turn him into another Megatron."
There was a long silence inside.
Finally Starscream spoke again, lazy and unperturbed.
"He was Sparked that way."
He came out looking triumphant. I waited until the door shut before confronting him.
"What was that?" I demanded.
"What was what?"
"That. In there."
He arched an optic ridge at me, still smirking. "It's called a 'conversation.' It's what Autobots do when they get bored."
"You know something."
"I know many things."
"You know about me," I persisted. "About my creators. Who are they?"
He shook his head and made as though to pass me. I rephrased the request into an order. "Tell me who they are."
Starscream's narrowed optics bored into mine. After a long moment of frowning, his mouthplates twisted the other way, his expression one of delicious, teasing defiance. "I don't think I'll tell you."
"You have to."
"Not if telling you would threaten your life," he said, "and since my Spark isn't devouring me from the inside out, I think my logic is sound."
"That's a weak loophole. I'll get it out of you someday."
His optics burned even brighter with some private joke.
"Someday."