Disclaimer: I own nothing – at least nothing Transformers related.

AN: For Dvana who wanted to see Armada Starscream meeting his G1 counterpart.
At first I didn't want to do it, I don't like Armada very much, but then a certain idea hit me (I think there was something on the bunny farm that spawned it) and here your wish is fulfilled. Sort of.

Thanks to mdnytryder for correcting this chapter.

Warning! Too many Starscreams. Oy!!!

Special Four: Wild Card (Armada AU)

Each story has its villain.
In this story, the villain's name was Unicron, and said Unicron was about to awaken.

And Starscream was the only one who was aware of it.

The red Seeker lay on his berth, staring up at the metallic ceiling high above his head and pondered his possibilities.
Beside him, his Minicon Swindle recharged peacefully, as yet unaware of his dark Creator slowly, but undoubtedly, gaining consciousness.

Starscream was sure that, if awakened, Unicron would call his children to his shell to do his bidding, but right now every little Minicon on Earth or the moon was still oblivious to their heritage and dark future.

And it was up to Starscream to change that.

Or not.

He sighed and sat up, looking at the walls of his quarters without really seeing anything.
The Seeker had four general options:

#1. Tell the Autobots and Decepticons about the threat concerning Cybertron.
(He could already hear the declarations of disbelief and hysterical shouts of "We're all going to die!", "The end is here!", "Where is Bruce Willis when you need him!" or " I'm too young to die!")

#2. Not tell them, resulting in carnage, bloodshed and general destruction of the universe.
(He would have to move then, frag….)

#3. Stay and watch to see if they found out by themselves that Cybertron's beloved moon was the bringer of chaos, the Unmaker himself.
(Again the hysterical shouts, hooray….)

#4. Fly away and don't look back.
(This option was appealing – but then again, he was too curious to miss out on something like Unicron awaking and devouring his older brother, plus any of his kids that were too dumb to stay in the vicinity.)

He really didn't know which option to chose.

Starscream sighed again, tracing circles on the metal of his berth.

Even if he decided to help the Cybertronians discover their "little" problem, there was still the dilemma about disclosing how he had acquired his information.

(Somehow he doubted that it would go over very well if he said something along the lines of "Hey, I'm sure you know the story? The one about 'Before the beginning was nothing, nothing was a paradox, which then imploded and the resulting mess spawned Primus and Unicron?' Surprise! It didn't spawn only two beings but three and I just coincidentally happen to be this third god doing my good deed for the century.")

(Too many questions attached.)

After all, his lovely big brothers had erased him, Atropan, their darling little, annoyingly weak and unimportant brother, out of all the history books and religious texts.

Unicron was at least mentioned with fear as the great Unmaker and the beginning of all evil in the universe.
But Atropan, poor little thing that he was, sized like a regular Cybertronian, without any obvious, light effect creating, bombastic powers, was entirely unknown to any mortal creature in the universe.

Starscream noted that now he was pouting slightly, old wounds reopening again.

He didn't deserve to be forgotten.

After all, he had done so much for and against his brothers' children.

But no, the only ones mentioned again and again were Primus, the slagging merciful,

(Wake up, he was a jerk!
If he wasn't, then why didn't he do something about this fragging war amongst his children?

(Atropan was sure the gigantic idiot probably even enjoyed all the fighting and thought of it as his own personal strategic game.
The setting fit perfectly.

(Two factions, one goal – simple enough for the blockhead to understand.)

and the great Unmaker, the faceless monster lurking under the berths of little Sparklings.

(He was an even bigger jerk.
But that was about it, his processing power wouldn't be enough to light a human light bulb.
To Unicron, it was all about eating and pissing Primus off, nothing else.)

But, who had been the one to whom Primus came crawling when his first Creations turned out to be nothing other than remote-controlled drones?

And who had been the one that solved his big and mighty brother's problem with introducing a little thing called "Coincidence" to his Spark so that each time that it split and created his children's life essences, chance decided what abilities and personal traits the new Spark would possess?

(More importantly, who was the poor fellow that had ended up with babysitting duty after Primus had created not one, not two, but actually thirteen little bundles of joy and screechy voices when he actually got the hang of Spark splitting?
Poor "Daddy" was exhausted after all and needed his beauty sleep, so Atropan had ended up with his arms full of whiny little Sparklings - with the same demanding and ungrateful personality like "Dad" - that he had to guide through Sparklinghood, Younglinghood and their first steps as adults, until Primus finally decided they were mature enough to do his bidding and to fulfill the roles he envisioned for them.

(And to create more spawn – guess who had to babysit them.
Here's a hint: It started with a capital "A".

(And he still hadn't gotten even a "Thank You" card from any of them. Slaggers!)

The list continued on from there.

Who had helped Unicron to lead the Fallen astray when his dark brother discovered Primus' little darlings?

(Atropan had been rather pissed off at every living Spark on and in Cybertron at the time.
After all, when he had appeared on the planet after a long vacation after taking care of his brother's pit spawn, nobody knew him anymore.
Even Prima had only glanced at him, lifted an optic ridge in the arrogant way Atropan was sure he hadn't taught him, and ordered his guards to kick him out of his throne room.)

Who had created the fire dimension after Primus came begging and pleading to him, belly crawling and honeycoating his words, not knowing what to do with his rebellious thirteenth child?
(The slime that Primus had created with all his brownnosing that day had been enough to create a whole new species out of it. Where do you think came the Qunitessons from?)

Who had taught Unicron to clone his own spawn out of his innards and organic waste that the metallic planet had left over from his last meal?
(And who had been stuck with babysitting duty – again?)

Who had found the survivors of Planet X and convinced them to serve Unicron in exchange for revenge on the destroyers of their planet?

Who had done this, done that, and gained no credit or recognition whatsoever for it?

Atropan glared at the walls of his quarters, creating two little forms shaped like his brothers from the metallic surface, only to melt them into tiny chunks again.

It felt good, but he wished he was powerful enough to do the real thing.

Or, at least to be acknowledged as more than the ultimate babysitter of the multi-verse and the occasional errand boy.

"You know, if you're so peeved at them, then I don't understand why you're still pondering whether to tell their children about Unicron or not? You should use the situation to get rid of Primus, Unicron and their Creations once and for all."

Atropan looked up from the still smoldering chunks of metal and at the wall.

A face had appeared on the reflective surface, a smirk on dark lips, red-hot optics following Atropan's every move, optic ridges questionably lifted.

The peanut gallery had arrived.

That always happened whenever Atropan had a difficult decision to make.

Somehow, his incarnations in other dimensions appeared out of nowhere to represent his different opinions, motives and parts of his personality.

Strangely enough, Atropan was not only aware of what happened in each of these different dimensions and universes – he was every single one of these incarnations, living their lives, making their decisions, all at the same time.

He was Starscream, sitting in his quarters and pondering about the injustice of his existence, but at the same time, he was Starscream, lying on his berth in the Nemesis and smirking at his other incarnation's problem – and Starscream, flying through space after his Lord had died on a strange planet, taking the Allspark with him, or Starscream in a conversation with said Lord about how to stop the evil Autobots from destroying the Earth in their search for Energon, or Starscream, twirling stasis cuffs around his fingers and bored enough to give his own two cents to this conversation, or Starscream….

(You get it. If not, it's nothing to worry about. Even he went cross-eyed when thinking too much about it, and he was living it.)

"What do you mean?"
Even when they were still one and the same, they had agreed on using "You" instead of "We".
It made things easier – and less confusing.

(Ever had the mother of all headaches? Pfft, lucky loser, try the GOD of all headaches! THAT was pain in its finest!)

The dark-faced Starscream's smile widened, "You know Unicron, you have been in him. You should use your knowledge to somehow prepare Primus' body to kill him. Poison, spikes, bombs, whatever you think would work.
Primus won't stop you, the lazy aft is sleeping after all.
And when both of your dear brothers are gone, you wait until the last Cybertronians have killed each other, then you find yourself a nice planet, create your own species and live happily ever after."

Atropan frowned, "I can't deny that it sounds appealing."

To have his own people, to be loved and worshipped….

Atropan had often thought about this prospect, but until now, he had always dismissed the idea as an impossible dream.

He was not planet sized, like his brothers.
As their Creator, Atropan would have to find a place for his Creations to live, he would have to defend them against his brothers and their spawn, and to care for them in a way that, right now, his weak powers simply couldn't accomplish.

Sure, he could always ask Primus if he would allow them to live on his surface.
After all, his eldest brother owed him a lot....

But, Primus certainly would either convert them slowly into his own good, little Cybertronians, or he would make sure that nobody on Cybertron would ever forget that they weren't Primus' own children, but strangers, outcasts.
Children of a god who couldn't even provide them with their basic needs.

Atropan did not want this life for his children.

Not a life so similar to his own.

Getting rid of his brothers and then starting anew was tempting but….

"I don't know,what would happen if I really would kill either of them. Even they don't know, regardless of how many great speeches they delivered on the topic.
The multi-verse could simply cease to exist and we would be back to step one.
Nothing, collapsing, gods…."

Atropan shrugged.

The Starscream in the reflection snorted, "You have no idea how many scientific theories there are about such an ending to the universe, have you?

"I swear, every second theory is about the end of the universe simply starting it anew, creating the Big Bang, because time is a big circle, yadda, yadda, yadda….
Idiots, all of them.
Until I've seen it, I refuse to believe this slag.
Just do what I told you and all will end well. We will be finally respected and worshipped and our two big problems will never be an issue again."

Suddenly the red optics narrowed, then the dark-faced Starscream sighed, "Oh please…. Not again. It isn't about the end of the multi-verse, is it?
It's just about your honor again.
Your pride doesn't allow you to get rid of the two biggest problems in the universe, just because it could be wrong to kill a sleeping and defenseless opponent.
Oh Primus, just what should I do with you…?
- Sorry, force of habit."

Another snort, from the ceiling this time.

"At least some of us know what's right and what not. Your line between black and white seems to have become quite blurred over time, Screamer."

Screamer looked up, his dark face scrunching up in a grimace, "Great… it's the Autocon saint… Comm me if you need me, my audials are officially off, now."

Atropan looked up also, coming face to face with blue optics and a scowl projected in Screamer's direction.

White lips curled, then the new guest murmured, "Afthead."

"I heard that!"

Blue optics blinked innocently, but the lips on the porcelain white faceplate smirked in a superior way, "But I thought you said you would switch your audios off…. Did you lie again, Screamer?"

Red optics glared up at the white-faced Starscream, "I'm a Decepticon, that's what I do!"

Blue optics narrowed, "I'm a Decepticon, too, and that's what I do not do."

Screamer wanted to reply, but Atropan was faster, "Silence! If you want to fight so badly, do it on your own free time! I have other things to worry about other than playing your referee - again!"

Dark Starscream snorted, but white Starscream looked apologetic, "I'm sorry. It was just a hard day, that's all. It won't happen again."

Screamer snorted again, "Tonight, when we're off shift?"

A fierce light began to gleam in blue optics, "You can count on it, loser!"

Atropan just groaned.

"Anyway, when you make your decision, you have to think about the lives that will be lost when Unicron gains free reign of the universe. Not only the Cybertronians will perish, but the humans also, and any other species on planets Unicron will destroy."

The white-faced Starscream cocked his head and pouted slightly at his red counterpart sitting on the berth, "What about Alexis and their friends? And the Autobots here on Earth, who took you in when you were injured and with nowhere left to go?"

"Oh, please…. You whine about me but you#re just as manipulating. Hypocrite!"

"At least I do it for a good cause, not for my own personal gain."

Atropan just groaned while his two incarnations began to bicker again.

He looked at Swindle to check if the Minicon still slept on, despite the increasing sound level.
The little mech was out like a light.

"He won't wake up, you know that. Nobody ever notices us arguing," remarked another incarnation absentmindedly from his place on the shiny surface of the berth.

This Starscream looked regal in appearance, mostly silver with strange broad wings, shaped more like batwings than jetwings.
Golden markings showed on his face, creating strange, ever changing patterns around his silvery optics.

He was Atropan in his first form, concentrated on writing on a datapad in his lap, while in the background, Sparklings could be heard, laughing, howling, screaming and fighting over something or other.

Atropan waited for a while, then it became apparent that the Ancient had nothing else to say.
He ignored everything other than his datapad.

The red Seeker on the berth sighed, "Still writing on the Covenant?"

The Ancient hummed absently.

"You are aware that Primus will steal it the moment you're finished?"

A golden optic ridge twitched. "Don't remind me," came the icy reply. "I'm still hoping that in this universe he won't."

A particularly loud cry was heard, followed by weeping, and every incarnation in the room winced.

The Ancient's optic ridge twitched again and he suddenly turned around to the Sparklings off-screen… err, -berth, "Slag it, Prima! Stop terrorizing your brother! He's the youngest, you should be nice to him, not torment him!
Don't even look at me with those big optics!
I'm not your Creator, and unlike him, I won't play favorites and won't refrain from calling you the most spoiled child that will ever exist in any universe!
And now be a good little tyrant and go order your toy soldiers around again!
And no, Vector, I won't show you how to use your time travel powers.
It's bad enough your Creator cheated me into gifting you with them when I was drunk, I won't help you by making them work in addition! The last thing I need is an arrogant Sparkling with a stick-up-his-aft attitude thinking he can rule time and space."

The Ancient turned around again, picked up his datapad, still mumbling angrily, "To remove time anomalies my aft. Slagging Primus, you old liar…."

"I'm so glad I'm past that stage," muttered Screamer from his wall.

"Me two!"

"Me three!"

"Me four!" a birdlike face appeared on the foor, eying the Ancient warily.
His design differed greatly from the other incarnations, his paintjob a dull but functional brownish grey.

"But, to return to the original topic, I think Autocon is right. As much as we all loathe Primus, he is the home of the Cybertronians and those are the species most similar to you.
If they die, then we will be truly alone again, not just alone in a crowd. Do you really want that?"

Red optics held the gaze of Atropan's golden ones, then the hawkish-looking mech continued.

"And even if Primus just sees this war as a kind of game, we are not him!
If we manage to get the two factions to unite against Unicron and to forget their differences, we can win against both of our brothers at once.
We would end Primus' little episode of "Capture the flags" and keep Unicron from filling his stomach. He's too fat anyway."

Somehow, Atropan liked this particular incarnation of himself.

He could be misguided at times, but he at least tried to remain practical.
His goals were mostly noble, only his ways were unacceptable at times.

The hawkish Starscream reminded him of himself.
Perhaps he should do as he suggested.

"Sounds nice enough, but you should check out all your options first." Atropan decided his room was getting quite crowded.
Another wall was now occupied by a long, purple face, smirking down at him.

"You know, our small problem of finding a suitable planet for our future worshipers could be solved if you asked Unicron to play the planet for them.
You could promise to keep your mouth shut and to help Sideways in reaching his goal and for this little favor he will be a home for our children.
Just imagine, a species of warriors, accustomed to carnage and destruction. They could raid each planet that Unicron targets beforehand, strip it of its resources…."

The optics of this incarnation began to gleam as he began a rant of his glorious new species, finding an attentive audience in Screamer and slight interest from the hawkish Starscream.
Autocon just seemed disgusted and disappeared.

Atropan began to ignore his other parts, knowing that they would disappear before daybreak.
He had made his decision, a decision which he hopefully could live with in the future.

It was time to make use of his rather rusty talents of time traveling....

The god couldn't help but grin and shake his head, hearing the others argue in the background about proper rites to his honor.

Why was it that the only universe where anyone was ready to accept, respect and worship him was the one universe, in which he, for all his worshipers knew, didn't even exist - except as a character in a fictional story…?

Atropan:

A slightly changed form of Atropos, which means "The Inevitable" and is the name of a Greek goddess of fate.
Atropos has a role closely linked to death in the Greek mythology, but Atropan here is more like a trickster, neither good nor bad, the one in between. He's still inevitable, because without him there would be no movement or change, he is the one that sets things into motion, if he wants (or realize it) or not.

He is all and nothing, having a hand in everything but nothing to really claim as his own.

A poor fellow and yet the most important part of the multi-verse.

I thought the name fit to the "First" (Primus) and the "Unique" (my personal translation of Unicron).

End credits:
Atropan - Armada Starscream
Screamer - G1 Starscream
Autocon - Shattered Glass Starscream
The Ancient - The first form of Atropan on babysitting duty, writing what would be later known as the "Covenant of Primus" (Yes, he can see the future. Or, to be correct, he's living it.)
The Hawk - Movie Starscream
The One with The Plan (and the long chin) - Animated Starscream