Chapter 4: Settling In

-SS-

"Ah, come on, Sunny. If we just switch out the stabilizer, we can double the output no problem!"

Starscream froze with his energon cube halfway to his lips. Then he returned it to the table without taking a sip. Two mecha, one bright red, the other yellow, sat at a table near the isolated corner Starscream had claimed as his own. Their voices carried easily in the mostly empty room.

His first visit to the rec-room had been… thoroughly underwhelming: a blur of curious faces, grasping hands, and suspicious stares and- Well. He'd elected to avoid the room during its busy hours after that. It was the best way to avoid clawing out the optics of whatever idiots thought swarming a strange Seeker was a good idea.

The room was never completely empty though. And, every so often, he managed to stumble upon something interesting. Starscream eavesdropped shamelessly on the other mecha's conversation. They were discussing some kind of energon production—something about geothermal energy and modified energy sinks. Within a klik, Starscream had figured out they were talking about high-grade production, and an illegal still at that.

To be fair, they weren't complete amateurs. Obviously they were soldiers not scientists—and Frontliners too, judging by their armor and inbuilt weaponry—but they definitely knew the basics of energon distillation. Starscream sipped at his energon, for once feeling almost… calm. This, at least, was familiar. It wasn't the Academy—wasn't even close—but there was an echo of it in the way the two mecha debated their project.

Then they started talking about an adjustment to maximize output, and Starscream's almost pleasant mood immediately soured. He managed to hold it in for another klik. Then, after one particularly boneheaded suggestion, he snapped.

"Don't you dare!" he hissed, shooting out of his seat and stalking over to the would-be bootleggers. "If you try to reroute the energy like that, you'll slag up the entire energy sink! Keep forcing it, and you'll blow the entire setup! Literally!"

The red mech gaped at him, cube forgotten halfway to his mouth. Starscream, slamming his own cube down and looming over their table, continued.

"And another thing! Why the slag are you morons still using the diffractive Straxian setup? That inefficient model was outdated the last time I was on Cybertron!"

The yellow one—Sunny, he'd been called—stood, crossing his arms and trying to loom over Starscream. "And you can do better?" he challenged.

Starscream threw his head back and laughed. "I was an Interstellar Explorer and Energon specialist," he said, watching as the other mech bristled at his tone. "I could make something twice as good while I was still a youngling." The best part was, it was true. Sure he'd barely been able to reach some of the parts and had nearly burned the lab down, but he'd succeeded. The energon it produced had even been edible, more or less.

Sunny growled and stepped forward, but the red one stopped him with a look. He watched Starscream with considering optics. Then he took a datapad out of his subspace and swung it towards him.

"Prove it," he said. The datapad was full of schematics.

With a sharp, toothy grin—almost a snarl—Starscream sat down, grabbed the datapad, and he did.

~.*.~

-SF-

Before the war, Skyfire had rarely seen other Seekers. He'd lived in Iacon, after all, where few Flyers lived and even fewer Warbuilds. Starscream had been an anomaly; most Seekers stayed in Vos, bound there by ties of Trine and kinship. Even back then, Iacon had been lukewarm towards Seekers.

Here, though, in the backend of nowhere and with Starscream missing, there were Seekers. Dozens of them.

The irony made him want to laugh. Or cry.

Being a Shuttle apparently put him in the same class as all the other Flyers, for all the sense lumping Civilian and Military builds together made. He was placed under the Air Commander, a blue and black Seeker named Thundercracker. Neither was happy about it. Skyfire because seeing another Seeker hurt, and Thundercracker because, well…

Evaluation wasn't going so well.

Skyfire stared at the blaster—more of a cannon, really—that had been thrust into his arms. Then, gingerly, he pinched the handle between two fingers, lifted it up, and set it carefully back on the table.

"No."

Thundercracker glared at him, wings flared in irritation. He picked the blaster back up and tried to push it back into Skyfire's arms. Skyfire flinched away, and the weapon clattered to the ground. Thundercracker's expression darkened. "If you're going to be under my command, you need to know how to fire a blaster," he said.

Skyfire nudged the blaster further away with his foot. "No," he repeated. "I won't—I can't do it." Just thinking of holding the weapon made him feel sick. Actually firing it—especially at another mech—was out of the question. His very spark rebelled at the idea.

Thundercracker sighed and picked it back up. His hand fit confidently around the metal. "We're at war. If you don't fight, you'll die."

Skyfire couldn't meet his optics. With a sigh—almost a growl-Thundercracker turned and walked away.

Skyfire didn't stop him.

-/-

"Here."

Skyfire jumped when a datapad was thrust in front of his face. He glanced up to find Thundercracker staring down at him. Even sitting, Skyfire was barely shorter than the Seeker. He gingerly took the datapad. "What's this?"

"Your new orders. Don't slag these ones up too."

He left without a backward glance, thrusters clicking against the floor.

Curious, Skyfire turned back to the datapad. Activated it. There were transfer papers there. For several long moments, Skyfire could just stare at the large glyphs, stunned. Then he kept reading.

He was, apparently, being moved to the labs as a minor assistant. Grunt work at best.

Skyfire set the datapad down on the table. Then, a klik later, moved it to his subspace, where it would be safe. Gratitude lit up his spark. He didn't have to hold a blaster in the labs Didn't have to fight.

"Thank you," Skyfire whispered, though Thundercracker was long gone.

~.*.~