My Madness, My Saving Sanity

Chapter Four: Unusual Revelations

By: Nightelfcrawler

Author's note: While this is G1 based, I've made Starscream a blend of his G1 and Armada personalities just because I find the dichotomy of it fascinating. It takes place in no particular timeline, following no particular events. Also, please review politely. If you haven't something nice to say, keep it to yourself please.

I woke up with a sudden start, my head slamming into the under hanging shelf of the recharge berth with a violent clang before the pain set in. Pit-spawned slagging scrap… violent curses gushed out of my processor, thankfully my comm. was not online yet, or I likely would have shocked others with my stream of obscenities. After all, who could curse better than the Triplechangers… I'd picked up more than a few new ones from them. I groaned as I lay back down, clutching my throbbing head in my hands as the pain began to ease. That probably left a dent… Like I needed more. My optics came on-line with a flicker, delivering the dim room to my view. The lights were still off, only the faint glimmer from the bunk illuminating the small closet. A small burst of panic flooded my processor before I dimly remembered to slap my hand against the wall. A loud clank filled the room and the lights immediately went on. They had altered the normal voice protocols to be super sensitive to sound just so I could turn them on without walking to the wall in the dark. Thoughtful, but at first they had kept going on when I had rolled over in recharge. I'd had to add my own alterations to make it work for my specifications.

I stared blankly at the ceiling trying to remember why I had woken up so suddenly. It was quiet outside, no commotion or annoying signals telling me someone was at the door. Since losing my voice, I had become even more attuned to listening to what was going on around me in order to keep from going insane from boredom. So if there was no sound that had distracted me, the disturbance had to be internal.

I sighed, and rubbed my head at the sensitive temples. Great… nightmares again.

It had started mega-cycles ago, back before the war… when THAT had happened.

At first, I had been able to manage them, terrified as I had been. But one Megatron found out that one of his newest soldiers had a small problem of fear, I was quickly blacklisted for discharge before I knew it. So, I'd come up with a way to circumvent these little episodes.

Granted… my technique was questionable, and my wing mates had commented on more than one occasion that my sanity had seriously been impaired. They probably were right. I rolled over and sat up, rubbing at the ache starting at my temples. The technique was rather ingenious. I'd installed a small chip in my processor that immediately triggered me to awake from stasis if any CPU activity heightened while in recharge. As mechs rarely 'dreamed' as the humans called it, such memory spikes were usually not important. The downside was it interrupted my recharge cycle and I rarely got a good nights rest when these episodes happened. Fortunate for me, these incidents had been fewer the past hundred thousand years.

I knew why they were returning. It was because I'd used HIS name… just that alone had brought back memories.

Frag him.

I slid out of the recharge berth and stretched a bit, feeling the dull ache of exhaust still haunt me. But I knew trying to return to recharge simply would bring about the same result, so instead I exited my room and decided to explore. The hour was still early, I could do some quiet thinking alone. My run of the base the past few days had been uncomfortable at best, tenuous at worst. I continued to get the occasional glare of dislike and mistrust from those around me, to which I did not blame them and actually was slightly amused. Were they to know the truth of my identity, they would have done more than glare… I idly wondered what their faces would look like when they found out, for it was inevitable that it would happen eventually, whether it was before I managed to leave their ranks or not remained to be seen. Nonetheless, it was nice to not have optics bearing into the back of my head as I entered the rec. room. There were only a few mechs in there, most of whom I didn't recognize. These were not the warrior crowd, they were those who stayed up late to work, or had the graveyard shift when most other mechs were resting. I chose a table and sat down with a cube of energon, pointedly ignoring the rest.

Unfortunately, as it was virtually an empty room, my entrance did not go unnoticed by the few mechs within.

A low whisper caught my attention, and though I pointedly pretended to ignore the speaker, I did tune in to hear what was being said. "Primus, what happened to HIM…? Who is he?"

"What, have you been in your lab this whole time, Perceptor?"

"Why, yes actually."

"Figures. That's the new arrival. Ratchet fixed him up. Some unknown Decepticon."

"In the base?"

"He's been stripped of anything useful. He can't leave the base either. We rigged him with a pulser."

"I see. Still, most curious."

"Hey, Perceptor, maybe you can put him to work." That got my optics lifting to stare in their direction, their conversation not private anymore as both noticed me listening in. I recognized Bluestreak as the speaker. "He says he's a scientist."

The red mech who apparently was Perceptor glanced my way, interest shining in his optics. "Really?" I studied him. He wasn't a vehicle, I could tell that immediately, and it was rare to find a non-vehicle Autobot. Which meant he turned into something more useful to his craft, as Soundwave did. My curiosity was piqued. "Perhaps you might be willing to assist me then, sir?"

I lifted an optic, wondering why he was being so polite. Most of the others weren't rude to my face, granted, but this one seemed overly polite. Then again, the others didn't seem to be distracted by it, so perhaps this was his natural behavior. What exactly is it you are working on? I sent warily, unwilling to be roped into some stupid analysis that held little interest for me. Certainly I had a background in science, but there were limits to my boredom. I wouldn't lower myself to performing meaningless tasks.

"Right now I am studying space bridge technology."

Space bridge technology? Now that WAS interesting. I knew a thing or two about the construction of those devices, though I was not the foremost expert. I wondered curiously what exactly Perceptor was working on. Were they trying to construct a space bridge? Even Megatron hadn't gotten that far, the Constructicons were a bit lax on learning to do that particular bit of development. It required BRAINS to make. They seriously lacked in that department. The scientist part of me was definitely intrigued by the chance to study the mechanics. I glanced at him keenly, and downed the rest of my energon then stood up, lifting an optic ridge to him.

"I would be most excited for some fresh ideas. This way." No one was around as we navigated through the hallways of the Ark deeper into sections I had not yet ventured. We passed Ratchet's usual med-bay, not the one I had been a guest of for some time. We then passed a rather battered and blackened part of the corridor where Perceptor urged silence as we moved past. His only explanation when we finally were out of range was enough for me. "Wheeljack's lab." Right. Even I had heard of THAT Autobot. Not far beyond the safety radius of Wheeljack's blasts was Perceptor's lab. Neatly organized it might have been, but that did not mean it wasn't cluttered. The lab had more things stacked up in straight rows and piles than even I had in all my years in the Academy. I lifted an optic ridge, impressed as I saw schematics pinned up on the walls, and various half-completed projects laying about.

"I must say, it is quite a pleasure to meet you." His enthusiasm caught me by surprise as my hand was swept into his grasp. "I recall reading some of your studies while going through the Academy. As I remember, you are the recipient of several prestigious awards! This is a most fortuitous opportunity to be able to interact with you and learn from your experience." I blinked slightly, panic rising. Wait… how had he figured out what I'd done in the Academy? The realization hit me and I nearly smacked myself as my vents exhaled some small buildup of heat from my panic. Of course, he'd looked up Skyfire and he yet hadn't connected the dots to my 'partner' that is, myself… I supposed not, Skyfire's name would have gained more notoriety for his death, but apparently Perceptor hadn't read that article. And MY participation had conveniently been erased after my… abrupt departure from the Acadamy. My panic died and instead as I gazed around, I felt my old interests rekindling as I examined the lab equipment. It was like a blessing from my past… a distraction to keep me busy, to entertain my fancies temporarily.

I inclined my head. I have had experience with space bridge technology, but never worked directly with the actual schematics. It does interest me, however. Of course it interested me, if I could re-create any data we worked on, it would be very useful to me. A return to Cybertron held some fascination as well.

Perceptor blinked at the internal communications, but smiled brightly. "I see! That's most advantageous. I have been working solo on this project to date given that I do not trust Wheeljack's assistance in this matter." Even I cringed at the name of the inventor. He was very infamous in his ability to destroy anything and everything that got in his way, and I was definitely not looking forward to joining the ranks of his many failed experiments. I could sympathize with the scientist. "Therefore any assistance you might give would be greatly appreciated. I'm certain Optimus would have no objections putting you to work assisting me, if you yourself are amiable to such an arrangement?"

Eh… why not. It would give me something to do. I will do what I can to help.

"Excellent!"

For the next several days, I busied myself with studying the space bridge technology that Perceptor had been creating. It was actually very intricate work, and challenging to boot. Oddly enough, Perceptor turned out to be not only knowledgeable in his current form, but also in his alternate form which turned out to be a highly powered microscope. Quite a boon. Needless to say, I found myself enjoying the time spent with him. Science was a way to forget everything, forget my allegiances, forget my woes. Perceptor might have chattered enough for both of us, but he was quite intelligent and together we came up with a myriad of ideas that seemed to mesh well together.

I found myself enjoying my work, my life… for the first time in mega-cycles.

And in the Autobot headquarters no less… that disturbed me. I couldn't figure out what had possessed me to do this, to go through with this charade and not attempt to offline any of my enemy in the interim. I realized that I was quickly being swept up in something far larger than I had anticipated.

Therefore, days later when I found myself actually seeking him out and, Primus help me, risking to sit down with Wheeljack as well, I began to suddenly feel an odd feeling in my spark.

I felt…welcome.

It was strange… I hadn't realized what this warm pulse in my chest was until it occurred to me that I hadn't felt this way since before the wars…

When I'd lost HIM…

It had been different with my wing mates. We had fought well at each other's side, sure enough, but this… this was almost…

Primus help me… were they becoming friends?

"Skyfire, something I have wanted to ask you for some time now continues to irk me." I glanced up at Perceptor, waiting patiently for him to stop blabbering and tell me what was on his processor. Wheeljack listened in curiously, as Perceptor spoke his mind. "You, being a Decepticon of course, still kept to your science roots… but I was under the impression that Decepticons did not favor the science arts. What's your story, if you don't mind me asking? How did you go from Science pursuits and join the Decepticon forces?"

I winced slightly. Was he HONESTLY asking me to share my life story with him? How moronic did you get? I stared into my drink, smirking a little. What would he say if he knew my story, MY story… I wondered. It was a unique opportunity I supposed. I had never told anyone just how I had come to rise to my current status as Decepticon Air Commander, nor told a soul about my life before. There had been only one who knew the full details, and he unfortunately was entombed on some remote planet, forever lost to me. My spark twinged again as the memory of my colleague whose name I had stolen reminded me of my roots. Would it really hurt to share some of it? It wasn't like I had to mention names… mechs were unknown before being re-formatted, and Skyfire's name while known in science journals, was nothing more than that. No description nor images of him existed, save in my own head. Who would know?

"Forgive me if I'm being too forward, but the topic does perk my curiosity."

No, it's quite all right… I finally sent staring down at my drink without meeting his gaze, my own sudden desire to TELL him becoming a bitter overwhelming taste in my mouth. I have not had the chance to speak of my younger years before…

"I would be most fascinated to hear it."

I lifted my optics to stare at the two scientists, then shook my head. Some things were better left unsaid. I was not the sentimental type. Besides, I was not trying to kid myself. There would come a time when I would leave. It was best NOT to make any close ties. It is not a story you would find interesting. Needless to say war creates necessity, I was molded into what I had to be in order to survive.

"I see… I understand. Nonetheless, I assume Megatron was unfavorable to your scientific endeavors… yet you found a way to continue to pursue them?" Perceptor asked softly, his expression thoughtful and understanding. He knew how war could interfere with science, he had been on the opposing side as I, dealt with similar circumstances of war interfering with his work. He knew how I felt.

There were times he found it useful, but for the most part I did my research on my own in my quarters. I admitted. There was little need for 'thinking' when Megatron was involved. We were just supposed to follow his orders blithely.

"How frustrating." Perceptor said quietly. "To follow a leader blindly without thinking of what you were doing? I'm not certain I could do that."

Don't get me wrong… I warned with a small frown. I believed in his cause when I joined his faction. Perceptor looked startled. Don't mistake that the Autobots are the only ones with goals. When he recruited most of us, Megatron planned to fix the problems on Cybertron, do away with the old corrupt system that he found outdated and antiquated. We were going to start a revolution, bring glory to Cybertron and do a better job than the Council had.

Perceptor looked shaken. "I can't believe that. Megatron has just always wanted power… he can't have operated under any grand design as that…"

That's what everyone here believes. I pointed out. And it's true for the present situation, but when the Decepticons first emerged, we did have a noble cause to fight for, a cause that ALL of us believed in. I trailed off and frowned, staring.

"But you don't anymore?"

I hesitated. As you said, Megatron only craves power now. Power and energy. All plans for restoring Cybertron to it's glory is completely gone now. He cares nothing for that, he just wants to rule everything. I sent bitterly. How ironic… wasn't that the same goal I was accused of wishing for? To rule above all else? If only the others knew how much I still clung to that wish to restore our home… to end it all so I could simply go back to working in my lab once more… He has slipped into madness, a madness that I fear he will never return. All those who follow him now are blind fools…

"You sound disillusioned." Perceptor remarked quietly. "Is that why you sought us out and requested amnesty?"

I was a bit startled at that revelation, but realized with some reluctance, he was right. Perhaps in part. Megatron must be stopped, there is nothing more important than that. His goals are pure madness now… driven by his lust for power. If he were to win, he would simply strip this planet of it's resources, conquer others, and maybe one day return to claim his victory on our home world… but rebuilding is not in his plans. Though emotion could not carry through the text conversation I sent out, my bitterness must have shown on my face, for Perceptor nudged my elbow with his, trying to prompt me out of my silent dismal reflection.

"Your words are much like our own goals, my friend. Perhaps you have found the right place to be after all… I do hope that you are able to remain in our ranks. Your knowledge alone is invaluable, but your passion just as important. We dream for the same things, you and I… Perhaps Autobot and Decepticon are not as divided as we thought."

Perhaps… I thought to myself. But then again, I was a rare breed. Most of the other 'cons ENJOYED following Megatron. I was the only one who had constantly risen up to stand against him, certainly for my own goals, but nonetheless…

Where was the dividing line anyway? Was there really a true separation between what made a mech an Autobot or Decepticon?

I downed the rest of my high-grade in a hurry.