We were notified that countless applications to comfort Starscream were received in the Nemesis. We knew you guys had a big heart, but some of you took things to the extreme and tied him to a bed! Bad bad bad girls… Er… this rope in our hands is for navigation purposes only!
Chapter 3
A prison of 206 bones
Countless metallic walls passed rapidly before the organic eyes of Starscream as he was being carried by Thundercracker, each wall identical to the previous one. Even the lights were placed in perfect symmetry within the corridors; meticulous Cybertronian organization but, for some reason, Starscream found it monotonous and repetitive. Could it be that losing his metallic body meant he had lost his perception as well? Was his transformation something more than physical? The mere thought made him shudder.
"Could you put me down? I can walk by myself," he complained with annoyance, looking upwards to the serious face of his blue wingmate.
"Your lack of speed would slow us and we can't allow ourselves such luxury. We are easy targets in this zone of the Nemesis if somebody decides to ambush us."
"Great," Starscream grumbled. "So I'm not only turned into a flesh creature, but now you treat me like a sparkling."
"Don't blame us for trying to protect you," Skywarp said. "If you hadn't been such a slagging afthole with everybody who had the misfortune to meet you, perhaps the idea of crushing you wouldn't be so attractive."
"You are the less than qualified to talk about companionship, Skywarp! If you hadn't have blown that fragging well up, I wouldn't be in this situation right now!"
"But you are, alright? And you know, at least I don't spend my life stabbing the backs of my comrades in arms."
"Would you two shut up?" Thundercracker intervened, tired. "We have real problems to face now, unlike your silly fights."
"Real problems? Like what?"
"Like the obvious, Warp! What are we supposed to do with Starscream?"
Skywarp shrugged his shoulders. "Use him as a yo-yo?"
"Warp…"
"Don't talk about me as if I am not here, you fools!" Starscream cried. "It's bad enough that everybody considers me some kind of exotic creature!"
"Well, that's exactly what you are now."
"One day, Skywarp… one day I will be myself again, and when that day comes, I'll make you swallow all your insults, one by one."
"Yeah, you told Astrotrain the same thing. Should I start lubricating on myself in fear?"
Thundercracker sighed, silently asking Primus for patience. "Warp, somehow Starscream got into this problem because of you. And Starscream, do I really have to remind you that we are the only support you have right now? Do you think anybody else would lift a finger for you if not to crush you?"
"That's true, Screamer. You won't last one astro second alive without the help of your dearest wingmates, so you better start showing us some respect. What about calling us masters, for example?"
"Go and frag yourself."
"As a matter of fact, I've been thinking about changing your name. How about Fido? Or do you prefer Fifi?"
"How about the one that is going to break your aft, you gasketroid face?"
"Primus, you two are annoying!" Thundercracker shouted. "Not even under such unique circumstances can you stop being a pair of glitches! Could you get serious for a moment?"
"Alright, alright…" Skywarp gave up. "So, you were saying, what are we going to do with Starscream?"
"What do you mean what you are going to do with me? Take me to my personal quarters, of course."
"It could be dangerous," Thundercracker said.
"I can take care of myself!"
"Is that so?" the blue Seeker continued. "How? In your current condition, even a maintenance droid could kill you with one single hand."
"I'll be fine."
"I have my doubts… Why don't you keep him for tonight, Warp?"
"Forget it! I don't want squishy things in my quarters."
"Who are you calling squishy, you scraphead?"
"Technically speaking, it wasn't an insult… Hey, TC, since you love to be such a wise aft, why don't you keep him?"
"Negative. I like to recharge alone."
"Would you stop patronizing me?!" Starscream said, punching Thundercracker's hand. "Not even when I was a sparkling did anybody care a frag about me, so don't give me any disgusting sentimental attitudes now! I already told you I'll be alright. I'm very able to protect myself. My security system will keep away any potential aggressors."
"Still," Thundercracker continued, "I don't think your quarters are the most proper place for your new physiognomy. There must be some needs that you have now…"
"I'll manage."
"Suit yourself. But what are you going to do when you feel the need to energize yourself?"
"I'm not hungry."
"You will be eventually, and we all know you won't find anything remotely resembling human fuel inside this base."
"I plan to recover my real self before actually starting to feel hungry. I will determine the chemistry composition of the water of the well this same night and will start its elaboration immediately."
"And if you don't succeed, you can always eat your own feet," Skywarp laughed.
Starscream shot a killer glance to his black wingmate but decided not to be involved in another useless insult exchange.
"However," he said, unable to hide his discomfort, "there is something that you can provide me…"
"What is it?" Thundercracker asked.
"I will need human garments… clothes," Starscream continued with low voice.
"Why the slag do you need that?" Skywarp asked.
"In case you haven't realized, genius, I'm stark naked."
"So?"
"So… I can't remain this way!"
"You have done it until now and you keep functioning… sorry, breathing. What is the problem?"
"That it's terribly embarrassing, you dolt, that is the problem! Do you think I enjoy exhibiting this… hanging intimate circuitry everywhere around? Not to mention I'm freezing."
"Starscream may have a point, Warp," Thundercracker said. "Get him some clothes."
"Me? Why don't you do it, TC?"
"Because you are partially responsible for his condition. The least you can do for him now is give him some dignity."
"It was about time for you to use your vocalizer with some intelligence, Thundercracker," Starscream said ironically.
"Shut up, or I'll take back what I said."
"And where am I supposed to get him clothes?" Skywarp asked.
"All the inhabitants of this planet use them; they must not be hard to find. Use your imagination," Thundercracker replied.
"Alright, alright… I'll get him the fragging clothes, but it will have to wait till the next solar cycle. I'm exhausted."
"And what am I supposed to do until then? Freeze my afterburners?"
Skywarp burst into laughter. "You don't have afterburners anymore, Screamer! Now you have a…"
"Don't say it!" the humanized Seeker interrupted. "Just… don't say it…"
"Whatever. I'll do that unworthy clothes mission for you, but as I said, you will have to wait and freeze your squishy aft meanwhile. In case any of you two didn't notice, I got shot today and my shoulder is killing me. But, as always, it's always the Starscream show around here…"
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The proud structure of the Decepticon leader sat hunched in his throne, his weary head resting in his powerful hands. His humanised Air Commander had disappeared from his sight only a few breems beforehand, the remainder of his treacherous army following soon after. Darkness filled the Command Centre, the subtle light generated by the computer monitors before him creating sinister shadows over his body, reflecting his dangerous mood.
"Tell me it's a joke," Megatron growled, "tell me it's a slagging joke!"
"Negative: all initial scans reveal..."
"Shut up, Soundwave," Megatron spat, his crimson optics burning with malice as he cast a dark glare in the direction of his Communications Officer. It didn't matter that the loyal navy Decepticon was steadfastly trying to regain control of the situation in that moment, Megatron wanted to kill him just for the sake of it.
Rage filled his spark, pure and unadulterated, threatening the existence of any being unfortunate enough to cross his path. Someone needed to die, it didn't matter who... but he swallowed the urge like a bitter pill, settling instead for another useless exchange of words.
"It's beyond belief," he said harshly, "that he would be so stupid as to get himself turned into a human; a pathetic, worthless, bag of meat unworthy of the Decepticon cause. I expect it of others... it didn't surprise me when Rumble was transformed into a tree... but Starscream? I thought he was supposed to be more intelligent than that. No, check that; I thought he was too fragging egomaniacal to let it happen, intelligence has nothing to do with it. What in the Pit inspired him to think of those blasted flesh creatures at precisely the moment he fell in the well? Surely he of all self-obsessed mechs could have managed to think of himself..."
An angry roar escaped his vocaliser as Megatron stood and began to pace, his arm swinging furiously at a pile of datapads resting on a nearby control panel, scattering them unceremoniously across the room.
"Imbecile! What in the Pit am I supposed to do with him now!"
"Termination an option," Soundwave stated without emotion.
Megatron looked up at his subordinate with narrowed optics, a wry smirk curving the corner of his mouth. "Indeed it is," he replied, humour colouring his voice slightly. He had known Soundwave long enough to notice just how much the Communicator was enjoying the current situation, despite the lack of any obvious external expression to illustrate that fact. "But as tempting as that option is, Soundwave, it is not one I'm willing to take... yet."
The Supreme Commander moved to stand beside Soundwave in front of the main computer, his optics falling on the images streaming in from the base's countless security cameras. With a feeling of absolute disgust he watched on as his finest flyers, the crowning trine in the Decepticon aerial elite, hurried like misbehaved sparklings through the corridors, no doubt seeking to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the place where Megatron now stood. The object of his hate, their leader, was clutched in the hands of Thundercracker.
It didn't escape Megatron's attention that the young human was frustrated, his expression a mixture of rage, disgust, distress… The mighty Decepicon Commander drank it in with avid delight. But the reaction that brought the greatest pleasure was that of his Sub Commander's humiliation; watching him in his pathetic attempts to hide his nudity was simply hilarious.
Not that it calmed his rage any less.
"No..." Megatron purred after a moment of silence, "let's at least let him suffer for a while before killing him off..."
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An immense shadow fell over Starscream as soon as the doors of his personal quarters closed and he was left alone.
It was very strange to feel so foreign in his own private accommodations. His furniture, his computer, his laboratory, his cleaning unit… everything was so… alien to him.
"Lights at fifty percent."
Nothing happened; his voice got lost somewhere within the sterile metallic walls.
Starscream frowned. Of course… his computer hadn't identified his voice. But he was a survivor, a fighter… No disgrace was big enough to defeat his eternal perseverance.
Certainly being a human being no taller than his former calves was a disadvantage in a room designed for an average size Cybertronian, but it wouldn't be difficult to program one of his cleaning droids to perform all those tasks that his new dimensions wouldn't allow him to do by himself.
He anxiously stared at the hermetically sealed metallic tube that contained the liquid sample that Thundercracker had extracted from his hair. Starscream felt the heart inside his chest beating furiously at the sight of his hopes laying on one of his workbenches. He had spoken with so much confidence, but would he really be able to duplicate the water of the Well of Transformation? Deciphering the formula didn't worry him, but the alien components that the liquid contained wouldn't be easy to find… After all, the Well of Transformation of the Tlakakans was something unique within the known galaxies.
Starscream shook his head. It was too soon to have defeatist thoughts. He would recover his former body, no matter the cost. Staying like a weak and perishable human being wasn't an option. He would never accept it.
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Half an hour later, the lights of Starscream's personal quarters were activated at the desired fifty percent. In very few breems, the persistent ex Seeker had been able to convert the smallest data pad he could find into a remote control, able to control all the devices of his room and provide him with direct access to his computer files.
He smirked for the first time since he had been turned into a human. Inorganic or not, he would always dominate technology.
His ambitious glance moved toward his laboratory, but there was something he had to do first. His body was sticky, dirtied by a mix of crystalized energon, lubricant and water of the well. For any Seeker, hygiene and physical appearance were priorities due to their conceited nature. For Starscream, more than priorities, they were obsessions. He knew perfectly well that he wouldn't be able to concentrate on the analysis of the sample if he didn't solve his problem of filthiness first, so he decided to give up to his natural egomaniacal personality and headed toward his cleaning unit.
Activating it wouldn't be difficult, thanks to his recently created remote control. However, the device fell to the floor once he stepped inside the rectangular structure that was so good at keeping his beloved former armor clean and polished.
The young man didn't hear the noise of the device crashing against the floor, didn't notice that his hands were suddenly empty… His horrified stare was fixated right in front of him, on the image the big mirror of his cleaning unit was returning to him.
For the first time since the nightmare had started, Starscream was staring at the complete image of his new appearance, at the creature he was forced to recognize as himself.
He had examined his body during the flight back to Earth, but he hadn't been very observant in that first analysis, too busy being nervous and frightened about his immediate fate. But now, in the loneliness of his personal quarters, the raw reality hit him with enormous strength: he was that flesh creature standing before him… he had those organic eyes that were opened to their limits… his was that half opened mouth… his were those bare arms and legs… his those hated exposed genitals that were so unworthy of replacing his powerful intimate circuitry…
But what impacted him the most was the sight of his face. His dark, virile and esthetic face was no more. What the mirror reflected was the foreign face of a stranger…
He had faced humans before; he had seen the fear in their eyes, he had heard them screaming as they ran away from him, insulting him when they felt lost, begging for their miserable lives… Now he was one of them, just as fragile and weak… just like an insect.
He slowly passed his fingers over his face, trying to find something that he could identify, anything… Somewhere, within the living nightmare, he recognized his expression, his features… But that didn't bring any relief; it just reminded him that he, Starscream, Second in Command and Aerospace Commander of the powerful Decepticon Army was only that… a human.
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Starscream cringed when he felt the first stream of water falling over his body. It hadn't been complicated to regulate the temperature of the liquid into something bearable for his new organic body, but still the experience was far away from being pleasant.
He wanted to scrub himself clean, to take something abrasive and scour his filthy flesh that would never truly be sanitary until it came away like latex, peeling and tearing. Starscream wondered if he would look like a human underneath that horrible skin, if the ordered system of circuits and tubes, computers and pumps, had been replaced with the fragile and inferior arrangement of muscles and bones, blood and bile…
But of course it had been.
That was his reality now; a once proud Cybertronian, a being of alloy, now trapped in a prison of 206 bones.
The water pounded against his flesh without remorse, a thousand needles falling upon him, threatening to penetrate the feeble barrier his skin represented. How he despised that wretched element; the bringer of organic life, the bringer of rust and mould and decay…
And now he was forced to cleanse himself with it, just like an animal.
He wished that any of his solvents or cleaning solutions were gentle with his human body, but all of them were dangerously toxic to his skin, some even able to kill him, so he had to be satisfied with simple hydrogen and oxygen.
But that wasn't what was bothering him at that moment. The sensation of the water falling on him couldn't disguise the embarrassing truth, the feeling of that small discomfort at the lower part of his stomach that he had noticed for the first time when Astrotrain had entered the terrestrial atmosphere. As breems went by, the sensation only changed to increase.
He wasn't facing the mirror and couldn't see his face blushing, but he felt it… the overwhelming sensation of extreme embarrassment, of indignation…
One thing was certain: he couldn't postpone it anymore. He wouldn't recover his body as soon as he wanted, so he would have to degrade himself with one of the most unworthy features of being organic.
His shivering hands directed themselves toward the object of his anguish and grabbed it. Something like an electric shock hit him when he felt the touch of his fingers on his intimate parts. It wasn't as disagreeable as he had thought it would be, but it wasn't pleasant either… It was simply humiliating.
He didn't dare to look downwards, it was too much… He leaned his forehead on the wall before him and forced himself to focus in his immediate objective.
Concentrate… concentrate… all organics can do it… it must be similar to expelling unnecessary lubricant… how difficult can it be?
But it was difficult, terribly difficult. The water continued falling on his body as his accursed new body denied to work as expected.
A frustrated groan escaped from whatever he had now instead of his vocalizer. He couldn't function as a human, he just couldn't… Even the most basic functions were an impossible nightmare.
Starscream fell on his knees, his fists punching the wet floor. Water continued raining over him; he didn't know for how long.
To be continued.
OK, Starscream needs a hug… no ropes please. Have you thought about handcuffs? ;oP