Disclaimer: Still don't own.
*Special thanks to Snee for nudging me along and motivating me to finish editing this chapter. Much love, my sweet! Really appreciate it. -heart-*
XX
Watching Blitzwing learn how to fly was surely as bad as Shockwave trying to tell a joke. While I had never personally witnessed the mono-optic's attempt at humour, Skywarp had been more than eager to share, recounting the event in vivid detail.
By Primus this was horrid. I was left speechless and dazed, staring at the spectacle in the sky before me from my flight deck. The triple changer's continuous failures at mimicking Nightfire's movements were downright painful to look at. This was torture. Or perhaps mockery to flier-kind. I could not decide which.
"Blitzwing, you have to let go of me, or you will never learn to fly by yourself." Nightfire was the only mech in existence who could still be patient after an entire humiliating joor of lack of any accomplishment from his student.
Blitzwing did not even reply. He clutched onto Nightfire's arms, frame visibly shaking as he gaped down, optics wide with terror.
Voice soft and prompting, Nightfire tried once again to convince the triple changer to let go. He wrapped his hand around the fingers digging grooves into his plating, and picked at their edges in attempts to pry them off. However, the gesture only incited panic in the half-grounder. Blitzwing let out a gurgle, and grabbed harder at the Space Shuttle, vents audibly stuttering even from a distance.
"Will you look at that, mighty Megatron: a shining example of your fearless, vicious Decepticons," I drawled, and flicked a hand at the dramatics, "How eagerly I anticipate our promising future together with such deadly soldiers at your disposal." I sent out a short, curt huff through my vents, lips curling. "The sheer magnitude of courage your treasured triple changer displays is absolutely astounding to a small, humble Seeker such as myself."
Beside me, Megatron did not shutter an optic. "You are a Decepticon too, Starscream." He replied, not even sparing me a glance, and my sneer grew.
"As enlightening as I can assure you this rare and valuable experience is," I hissed, not censuring my sarcasm in the slightest, "I do have much more important matters to tend to than standing here like an idiot watching another idiot fail."
"If you believe yourself better at educating Blitzwing, why are you here?" Megatron tilted a brief look at me before turning back to his flailing subordinate. "I am certain Nightfire will appreciate any sagely advice you have to spare."
I did not know what to say to that. Grumbling and scrunching my nose bridge, I blasted out a sigh, and returned to my staring of Nightfire's efforts at dislodging a stubborn triple changer. My science advisor finally nudged Blitzwing's hands off, but his relief was short-lived. The Decepticon let out a high-pitched, undignified yelp, and threw his arms around the Space Shuttle's shoulders, ramming their frames chassis to cockpit.
Nightfire instantly became flustered, jolting and spluttering. A few fliers gliding by transformed out of their alt-modes just to stare, hovering as they gave me their bows. Some of them frowned, as though confused about what the floundering duo was trying to accomplish. Most of them simply covered their mouths and snickered, watching for a moment before flying away to their duties.
I heaved another ex-vent, and crossed my arms. This was getting downright ridiculous. I hadn't imagined this as how I would spend my late mid-cycle at all.
Megatron had contacted me about Blitzwing's first flight lesson, and we'd settled on the time and place. I assumed that only the triple changer was coming. However, Megatron actually came himself, popping into existence with Skywarp and Blitzwing as though he was supposed to accompany them in the first place. Needless to say, I was surprised. He gave no indication during our conversation that he was planning on a visit, and his recent attitude had led me to believe that he wouldn't care enough to do so.
Several cycles have passed since the completion of Blitzwing's aerial alt-mode. I did not know why, but Megatron's changed, becoming rather distant, aloof. Not that we were ever particularly close, but this current behaviour was a far cry from his previous nosiness. He has stopped contacting me every cycle to check up on me, and the seldom times we'd talked, he sounded different. I could not pinpoint exactly what the difference was, but it was there, obvious but vague at the same time.
Was he starting to trust me as his second-in-command? Was that why he stopped comm.-ing every cycle? I turned my helm, and scrutinized him, trying to discern his thoughts. If he was, in fact, starting to trust me, then he was a fool. I certainly did not trust him, and I was not above exploiting every advantage I had over him for my own personal benefits.
Did he somehow find out about my interactions with Orion? I frowned, sinking into my thoughts. That was not possible. Soundwave hadn't had any surveillance in Tarn until my trine mates and I planted his hacking device, so no one could have informed Megatron of my newfound friendship. Besides, why would it matter to him who I speak to? As far as he's concerned, my life was none of his business.
Skywarp had teleported away the klik he was dismissed, saying something about bothering Thundercracker. His departure left Megatron and I alone on the flight deck, and I had every belief that we would head inside after making sure Blitzwing was in no danger of perishing by fall in Nightfire's care. We would chat about war matters over vintage high-grade. There was much a commander and his second could talk about. I'd even comm.-ed the servicing staff to prepare a room, a privilege reserved for only the most esteemed of guests. However, a joor had already passed, and we were still standing here, on the exact same spots as when Nightfire had taken off with Blitzwing in tow. Megatron hasn't acknowledged any of my efforts at steering him to my tower. I was sure he understood my intentions, but he continued to feign obliviousness, the blank expression on his faceplate bordering on disinterest.
Now that was just downright rude to a Seeker.
"What is it?" His voice jolted me out of my thoughts. My optics shuttered, and my wings perked a little, helm jerking upward to meet his gaze.
"Hmm?" I looked at him, confused.
"You've been staring at me for over a breem. Did you want something?" He replied, hands still clasped loosely around his back, faceplate inclined toward me.
Primus, have I really been staring at him all this time? I yanked my helm to the other direction, and shuffled away a few scoots.
"I-I wasn't—staring at you…!" Frag, did I just stutter like a malfunctioning drone? I winced, and cursed in my processors.
Megatron made a low hum, but did not call my bluff.
"You don't have to stay, Starscream. I am more than capable of standing here by myself." He paused. "You are not required here."
My wing joints seized in tension. My fingers tightened around the side-plating of my arms, and they ached, throbbing points of pressure.
"There is no need for you to stay out of politeness," The word was ground out in distaste. "I would far rather you do your job than loiter here, idle, wasting your time."
I bit my lips, and stared at the air in front of my optics.
"Then why did you even come, Megatron?" I gritted through my sneer, faceplate still pointed away. "Why did you decide to visit my city if you don't, in fact, have a purpose with me?"
"I came here to oversee Blitzwing's progress," He answered, voice almost airy. "I did not command you to stay."
My digits clamped tighter around my arms. My wings trembled. My jaw joints clenched, and, without another word, I snapped around on my heels, hands curling into fists as my arms swung in a curt turn.
My right wing slammed against his arm. Pain surged like a burst of flames, shooting out in a web of icy burn.
My intakes hitched, and I almost stumbled, the contact equal parts shock and injury. I had underestimated the distance between us. My wing tip got the brunt end of impact. I had to force down a yelp, swallowing the gurgle and freezing into stillness while the sting radiated through my neural network. I gritted my dentae, and plastered on a scowl to mask my grimace of hurt. The burn stayed, waves of ache spreading outward while the sensory clusters stabbed.
Megatron turned, as though startled. I did not know what expression he wore, as I had lowered my helm and kept it out of his sight. I cursed him and his dense plating inside my processors, but my lips remained sealed. We stood, silent, for several long kliks. He did not inquire about my wing, and I did not apologize.
When the pain finally ebbed to a tolerable level, I jerked my wing out of his way, and strode off, thrusters brisk clicks against the smooth surface of the flight deck. I heard him shift on his peds, and my scowl almost fell, brow-ridges furrowing as I offlined my optics. There was a sharp squeeze inside my spark chamber. It hit hard. I shook my helm, and onlined my vision, walking faster for the entrance to my tower.
Megatron had stepped back to allow me passage. I could not afford to wonder whether he had or hadn't watched me leave.
I passed through the door, and made for the stairs. I descended, toward my recharge chamber, ignoring all who bowed as I neared them. The slagger…I cancelled all of my scheduled meetings for him! I took my precious time to offer him my company, and he thought he could just brush me off?!
The bitter part of my spark told me he just did. I huffed through my vents, and pressed my lips into a downward line. Why did I even bother showing him any hospitality in the first place?
I did not know what had caused his change in attitude toward me. As far as I was aware, I was still as important to him as several cycles ago. He was acting as usual when my trine mates and I returned from our scouting mission to Tarn. He'd even commended Skywarp for snatching an energon crystal from one of the warehouses he had teleported into.
Of course our generous, most gracious lord would commend Skywarp, but never me, never his capable, most deserving of praise second-in-command.
A snarl pulled at my lips. I stomped down the corridor, and the guards tensed in nervousness.
The morning after the Tarn mission, Megatron comm.-ed me, just as usual, and we actually had a decent conversation, where neither of us exploded into anger or tossed prickly insults. The topic itself was all business, having revolved around the war and weapon development. Everything was fine, but that only led to one conclusion, that whatever I did to cause him to act this way could not have come from anything I had said, so…what could it be?
The pits, why was I even considering that his behaviour might've been because of anything I did? How was it my fault that his glitched processors were glitching even more? Our conversation was definitely not the cause. I was not rude or disagreeable. It was not as though I'd purposely brushed him off mid-sentence to watch Thundercracker dust his data pad shelf. Megatron was the one who had a matter come up in the first place, and we parted on good terms.
However, none of my musings or justifications could change the fact that the shift did begin after that conversation.
I entered the pass-code to my berth chamber, and the door slid open after a small "beep". I threw myself onto my berth as soon as it was within reach, and heaved a deep sigh through my vents. Why was I bothered about Megatron anyways? He was just a ground pounder. Decepticon Lord or not, I was merely associating myself with him because his goal worked in Vos's favour. Our relation was not in any manner special. He clearly wanted to be intimate with me, and, just like Nightfire had suggested, this desire was a weakness, something that could be used against him, nothing more.
With another sigh, I offlined my optics. Since I was free for the rest of the cycle, I might as well make Pristinus a happy medic and catch up on well-needed recharge. Pinging the light system to dim, I squirmed on my berth, and settled into a comfortable position. The tension in my joints eased, and I sank into the soft padding, intakes and ex-vents slowing to an even rhythm.
A small smirk tilted my lips. Slag the infuriating idiot. He could stand on the flight deck until he rusted for all I cared. It was his loss, really, choosing to be by himself when he could be in my magnificent presence. I was going to forget all about him, and recharge away. I did not give a damned cog on why he was acting like this.
Kliks stretched into breems, and breems grew in number. Half a joor later, I was still awake, curled up and restless. My processors refused to settle. My spark would not calm. Thoughts continued to race, and my wing tip throbbed as though a reminder of the most recent hit my pride had taken.
…Why was Megatron treating me this way when nothing happened?!
With a frustrated growl, I flung myself from my berth, and hopped off before pattering toward my personal lab. I stopped in front of the data pad shelf, and lifted a hand to pull down the correct sequence. However, mid-reach, I lost the urge. Vents spluttering in a sigh, I turned away, and flopped back down onto my berth, faceplate first, arms spread and wings drooping.
If I could not even recharge, how could I focus on my experiments?
After much slow, lazy wiggling, I managed to flip over, and scooted up until my peds no longer dangled in the air. Though recharge escaped me, lying here in the silence was nice. Thoughts and questions still swam in my processors, but I paid them little mind. I offlined my vision, and ran cycles of air through my system, simply enjoying the moment. Such was rare for one as easily agitated as I was.
Without much consideration, I sent a ping to Orion, and waited for him to respond. He always did with haste, and he was always eager to hear from me, ready to listen.
In a few selected ways, he reminded me of Skyfire.
:Hello?: His voice, calm and soft with a touch of curiosity, answered.
:Orion, it's me.: I greeted.
:Hi!: I could imagine him perking up upon hearing my voice, and smiled. :What a pleasant surprise! How are you, Seeker?:
We had come to the agreement that since he has yet gained the privilege of knowing my designation, for more reasons than Vosian customs alone, he would address me as "Seeker".
:I'm…fine, I suppose.: I made a face.
Way to not avoid unwanted questions, Starscream. Maybe you should spill your spark out to your little dock worker friend too all the while sobbing about how much of an unfair slagger Megatron has been to you.
:Is something bothering you?: Orion was careful to not sound intrusive, which I appreciated, even though my reply was merely a noncommittal hum from my vocalizer.
:What are you doing right now?: I decided to change the topic. Orion was quick to pick up on such hints. He knew when to not persist, another trait I was glad for.
:I'm on my break.: He said, and paused. :…I guess I'm on my break most of the time.: He laughed. :I mean, I only really have to work when the cargo crafts come.:
:But they only come three times per cycle.: I frowned.
:Yeah…: Orion laughed again, though this time he sounded a little sheepish. :My job isn't all that fulfilling or stimulating for the processors, I'm afraid.:
:Why did you become a dock worker then?: I asked.:From my limited interactions with you, you don't seem to suffer any major malfunctions that would hinder you from obtaining other occupations.: Orion might be as ordinary as a ground pounder could be, but he was not stupid. Not that stupidity's ever stopped anyone from making a living. Just look at Skywarp.
:My creators found this job for me actually, and I don't really mind it that much, to be honest.: Orion spoke on in a merry, chipper tone, :I'm close to home. I make enough credits for nice things. And I have plenty of time on my hands to read and stuff. Oh, by the way,: His voice lilted, :Have I told you that I'm thinking of buying a place for myself? I mean, I like my apartment now and all. It's close to the outskirts, not far from city center, but it really belongs to my creators, so I want to buy my own place. I didn't plan on doing it so soon though, but a friend of mine just got one, a new place I mean, and he said that housing is really cheap right now. I guess it's because of the war, but a good deal's a good deal. I went to check out some of the available apartments a few cycles ago, and I just found the perfect place! It's a little far from the docks, but it's within reasonable distance, so I thought—…I apologize. Am I talking too much?:
:No, go on.: I prompted, resting my arms over my abdominal plating. :You know I don't mind.:
I rarely listened, to anyone. Most of the time, I didn't want to. However, in the seldom occasions when I did, for reason none other than to forget about my life for the moment, I found that I had no one who wanted to confide in me. I doubt I'd make a good listener, having very little experience in being one, but I knew it was really my rank that kept even my trine mates from seeking my advice. Social hierarchy should not be an issue within trines, but even though Thundercracker insisted that we were all equal, he, along with Skywarp, still exchanged concerns a lot more often than they did with me. They were always available when I needed audials to rant to, but the reverse almost never happened. This hardly bothered me, since I had much better things to do than listen to a trine mate's whining, but it could be nice sometimes.
Orion's chatter calmed me. Everything he spoke of was so different from what I knew. His life was interesting, refreshing. Ordinary. His ponderings contrasted so much from mine that they were often difficult to relate to, and his topics were so simple, so utterly typical of an average citizen of Cybertron.
The complications he faced almost never went beyond his circle of friends. He wondered about where to take his potential bond mate on their next outing, or if an expensive frivolity he wanted was worth the credits or not. His worries revolved around his life, not that of a city. That was something I could never have, as Vos was every bit mine as I was its Crown, its possession.
Orion was describing his little cube of an apartment to me, attaching image files when needed. He told me about the view, and how excited he was that it showed a sliver of the sky, not just taller buildings. To him, that small portion of space was the most amazing portion of space on Cybertron, because he was about to buy it with credits he had earned and saved himself after metas of dull work at the docks. I tried to imagine what that must've felt like, but it was impossible. I had no idea what earning credits meant.
:I think I'm going to get the bigger berth instead of the one everyone else always gets.: He started to talk about furniture. Instead of having a professional design his interior, he wanted to do it himself, something about having his home reflect his personality. :I think I'm going to put the bigger berth in my room, and buy another one, a regular sized one, for the side room. For the storage chamber, I'll make it my own library, and have it filled with shelves. Doesn't that sound great? A room just for data pads! That's what I've always wanted to do, you know, when I have my own place.:
:That does sound neat.: I replied. His enthusiasm was infectious. It made my lips spread in a smile. I had the Central Archives of Vos as my library, so I really did not see what was so great about his room. That was not important, however. Orion did not need to know that.
:Doesn't it?: There was a grin in Orion's voice. :I'm really looking forward to that, to finally having all my data pads properly stored, but my carrier always tells me that the room's just going to end up as messy as my other ones. He thinks everyone's rooms are messy. He even thinks Elita's is messy when he went there, and Elita cleans his place every deca!:
Elita-One was Orion's potential bond mate. The two had first met when Orion got his job at the docks, and they quickly became friends. According to Orion, however, there has always been more. When Elita quit his job to start his education as a medic, Orion confessed his affections, which Elita eagerly reciprocated, and they had been going steady since, despite a few whiffs of turbulence.
"What about you, Seeker?" Orion had asked me once, after telling me about the grumpy medic Elita had to intern for, one who threw wrenches when he was angry. "What do you do for a job?"
That question took me by surprise before I remembered that Orion had no idea who I was, unlike everyone else who's ever met me.
"Something that was passed down from my creators." I settled for a vague answer. At least it was not a lie.
"I thought so," Orion had replied. "You must be very important in Vos."
"Why do you say that?" I asked, suspicious.
"Well, you looked very important," He did not seem to notice the sharp tone I had spoken with. "Just from your appearance alone, I could tell you're at least very wealthy…and also from the way your trine mate glared. When we first met on top of the warehouse, he looked ready to deactivate me if I said one thing wrong." He had laughed, and I was taken by astonishment.
Thundercracker had glared? I did not know my blue trine mate was capable of such expression.
:Maybe when the war is over, and you aren't busy,: Orion's voice roused me from my thoughts, :You can come visit me at my new place!:
I did not know how to respond. No one has asked me to visit them like this before, no formal invite, no necessity due to rank, just…a mech wanting my company.
:I hope you don't mind.: He talked on,:Vos is probably much more beautiful than Tarn, but there are lots of things to do here to have fun too! I'll take the side room so you can have the bigger berth, for you wing span, I mean. I'm sure Elita will be happy to meet you as well. We can go for a cube of high-grade at that bar I told you about. It'll be great!:
:Orion,: I interrupted his animated chatter, a furrow on my brow-ridges. My optics onlined, and the high ceiling of my berth chamber came into view, darkened from the low lighting and shrouded by shadow. :You do understand our planet is at war, don't you?: I hated to dampen his spirit. Primus knew how rare that was during a time like this. But his naivety was starting to sting. :War knows no distinction.: I paused. He did not reply. :It's going to consume everything we know.: I added, and my fingers curled around my plating, pinching slightly.
The silence that followed hung over our line like tinted mist. I almost regretted saying what I did, but he answered then, and he did not sound angry that I had broken the last shred of normalcy he could cling helplessly onto.
:I…am aware of that.: He said after the lengthy stall, during which I anxiously bit my lips and waited. :I mean, the reason housing is so cheap right now is because of the war.: He laughed, but it lacked humour, devoid of its previous warmth. :But what else can I do, Seeker? What do I have other than family and friends I can potentially lose and credits that might be rendered worthless the next cycle? : There was a break in his words, and I was not sure if he wanted me to answer. Thankfully, he continued on. I was relieved, for I did not have an answer to give.
:War is terrifying for bots like me.: He sighed.:I can't fight, and I'm definitely not important enough to the Autobots to garner protection. I can only hope to survive, along with Elita, my creators, and my friends…which reminds me,: His voice faltered a little, :Please be careful, Seeker. I would hate it if something bad happened to you.:
I did not know how to respond, or even how I should react to his concern.
Hearing him express such sentiment was…strange.
I knew many worried about me. For Primus's sakes, my whole city worried about me. But hearing Orion, a ground pounder civilian who did not even know my designation, say this to me – it held significance I could not yet decipher. I felt as though something momentous had just happened, but I haven't understood enough to know what it entailed. There it was again, the quality that made Orion unique. I could almost call him ignorant, or perhaps cowardly, pretending everything was normal when it clearly wasn't. However, I did not feel that either was his intention.
:I don't need you telling me to be careful.: I ended up blurting out with a huff from my vents. :I am superb in aerial combat. That I can assure you is not an exaggeration in the slightest.:
Orion laughed. :Of course, Seeker. I have no doubts about that at all.: His voice once again held a grin. :I don't know much about flying, but even I could tell you are exceptional from when I saw you.:
:I am beyond exceptional, Orion. I am perfection.: I stated. He laughed again, but it held no ill will, so I let it pass.
We continued to chat until he had to get ready for the last shipment of the cycle. With quick farewells, we ended our conversation, and I was just about to comm. the servicing staff to bring me a glass of refined energon when Skywarp popped into existence in the middle of my chamber.
"I wondered where you were." He gave me a once-over before walking to join me on my berth. "You weren't on the flight deck when I went to teleport Megatron and Blitzwing back to Kaon." He flopped down, but perched on an elbow, lying on his side to peer at my faceplate.
I grunted with my vents. It was an ungraceful noise, but this was Skywarp, so I did not care. "I'm not obligated to accompany our mighty leader in staring at a failure in the making." My lips curled as I glanced at my trine mate. "He obviously did not want me there, so I left to do much more fulfilling things."
"Like what, lying here and sulking like a spurned youngling?" Skywarp was obviously trying to stir a rise out of me, but I was too unimpressed with his unoriginal attempt to even feel irritated.
"I'm surprised you even know what that word means." I muttered, and went back to examining the shadows on my ceiling.
"Awww, don't be like that, Screamer. I know many words!" He scooted a little closer just so he could peer overhead to flash me a huge grin. "Besides, I'm just showing my concern like a trine mate should!" A mischievous glint sparked in his optics. "Do I get a reward for being such a good trine mate?" He purred, and I froze, lazy stare widening into a gape as I suddenly realized just how close he was. This was not good. This was not good at all. Such a glimmer in his optics could only mean one thing:
He had a stupid joke only he could appreciate on his blasted slagheap of a processor, and the brunt of that stupid joke was me.
"…What the are you doing…?!" My frame tensed. His faceplate began to descend, coming much too close for my liking. "Stop it! You're being ridiculous!" I protested, and tried to wiggle away. He chose that exact moment to swing himself over top, and trapped me under his limbs. He snickered. My optics grew wider. This was never a good sign.
"I'm warning you, Skywarp—" I tried to growl out a threat, but he cut in before I could.
"Oh c'mon, Screamer, when was the last time you gave me proper rewards for my servitude to your demanding aft, hm?" Chuckling in a manner that could only be described as pure evil, he leaned down, and, to my utter horror, puckered his lips. "Give your good trine mate a nice, hot, sexy kiss, won't you?" He cooed in a sickeningly sweet voice, and made loud kissing noises. Ice frosted inside my spark chamber. My fuel pump skipped a beat.
I began to panic.
"S-Stop it! Get away from me, you crazy fragger! Get away!" I grabbed and shoved his faceplate, bucking from my berth and trying to kick my legs. "Skywarp! G-Get—Gaaahhhh—!" Despite my valiant efforts, he kept coming closer, and I was forced to turn my faceplate away to avoid being violated by his revolting mouth. "Skywarp! Don't you fragging dare! Don't you fragging—" His lips fell on my neck cables, and, to my great horror and dismay, he began to suckle, making gross, wet sounds all the while vocalizing awful, exaggerated wanton moans. His vents spluttered in laughter. His glossa swiped over my main energon line.
My mouth fell open.
And I shrieked.
I thrashed.
I cursed him all the way down to his ancestor units, and scratched at his shoulders, pushing against his chassis. "What the frag is the matter with you?!" I screeched at him, and squeezed my optics offline with a grimace of pure disgust. "Get off! Get off!"
He gave me one last nibble before finally bursting into loud, obnoxious laughter. The idiot slagger rolled off, landing on his back, and cackled so hard that coolant fell from his optics. He clutched his stomach plating as though they ached, and kicked his peds, completely overtaken by hilarity. I shot up the instance he stopped pinning me to my berth, and glowered with such indignant rage that I could've sworn my optic glass was going to crack. My fists trembled, and my wings hiked perpendicular to my back.
"You glitch-heap!" I let out a ringing cry, and sprang toward him, arms outstretched to give him the pummeling of his life. "I'm going to slag you!" I straddled his hips, and raised my fists to punch his faceplate in, but he only laughed harder. With a scream of pure fury, I unleashed my wrath, and hit him wherever I could. However, to my utter frustration, he easily fended off my attacks, despite his continuous snorts of mirth.
"Get out of my room! Get out of my fragging room!" I shouted at him, fingers grabbing for his neck cables to throttle.
"My, my, Screamer, I didn't know this was your fragging room." He shuttered an optic in a suggestive wink. "How kinky!" He grinned in the most maddening, shameless manner I'd ever seen, and I was certain something in my processors popped just then from how quickly my anger soared.
With an audial-splitting scream, I once again descended on him, vigor renewed. After several more attempts from me to seize his neck, he seemed to have grown bored of my efforts, and caught my wrists with his hands. I pulled on my arms and swore, trying to dislodge his fingers. However, I was reminded yet again of how much stronger he was than me, when even my hardest yanks did not loosen his grip.
A long moment of pointless flailing later, I finally became tired enough to stop, intakes running at full cycle speed and frame growing warm. Slumping down on top of him, I sat on his thighs, and glared with all the distaste I could muster. However, no matter how ugly of a scowl I wore, his optics continued to sparkle like I was the most amusing flier in the universe. "I really love being your trine mate, y'know," He snickered some more. "No other Seeker riles up quite like you."
My sneer scrunched my entire faceplate, and I snarled down at him with all the vehemence I could conjure from my spark:
"How about I tear out your optics, and then we see how much you love being my trine mate?"
"Why do you have to take the fun out of everything, Screamer?" His voice was light and careless as he dismissed my threat. "I was honestly tryin' ta help." He pouted, "Don't you feel at least a little better after blowin' off some of that steam?"
"What slag are you spewing now?" I snapped, and chose to not remind myself of how much of that steam came from his recent act of inappropriate behaviour.
"Oh, c'mon, Screamer, gimme some credit here!" He actually appeared to be genuinely offended. "I can be perceptive too if I put my spark to it, you know." When I pursed my lips and narrowed my optics, he simply shrugged. "I donno. I just thought you had a fight with ol' Megs. You've both been acting kinda strange."
"I've been acting kind of strange? He's the one who practically told me to frag off!" I retorted, and hissed in irritation. "I haven't done anything that deserves such outrageous disrespect."
"Well, that's new. You're usually so hard to get along with." At my glare, he laughed. "What? Your cute little aft can't make up for all your disagreeable personality components."
Ignoring his comment, I glanced to the side. "I honestly didn't do anything this time." I grumbled. He obviously did not believe me if his raised brow ridge was any indication, but he wisely decided against making another lame joke.
"Well, whatever it is, you'd better figure it out, 'cause you got competition, cute little aft." My wing joints tensed, and my optics flew back to my purple trine mate's faceplate. "Shockwave's been getting an awful lot of attention from your beloved Megsy lately," Skywarp let go of my wrists, and crossed his arms under his helm, "and our almighty lord barely shows blatant interest in anyone." His endearing nicknames for Megatron made me cringe, but there were more important matters in discussion than terrible abbreviations of designations.
"Shockwave? Are you serious?" My tone was dry, though I could not help a small frown from forming on my faceplate.
"Yeah, I mean, I guess it's understandable why Megs would like him. He's loyal, respectful, hardworking, devoted to the cause, and he's real good at kissing aft for a scientist." Skywarp made half-sparked shrug. "He's been runnin' lots'a tests on Blitzwing too ever since the mech grew a pair of wings. Maybe Megatron's having Shockwave do something involving fliers."
My frown deepened, and all thoughts of revenge against my trine mate for his previous act of insolence dissipated from my processors.
"How do you know all this?" I asked, curious. "Why would Megatron want Shockwave to experiment on anything involving us?"
"Well, I donno what the boss is thinkin'. I only spotted Blitzwing leaving the labs a couple of times."
Some of the tension bled from my wing joints, and I sighed through my vents. "Skywarp, just because Shockwave is curious about Blitzwing doesn't mean Megatron has an agenda." I explained patiently, as though I was soothing a paranoid sparkling. "Megatron is not so stupid as to try to double-cross us now. Without Vos's help, he cannot hope to win the war. Besides, if he is indeed planning something, do you honestly think he'd be so sloppy as to have you find out about it?"
"Well, I just thought I should tell you, even if it's probably nothing." Skywarp did not seem put-off that his suspicion was being rebuked. "Still, aren't you a little worried? At least about your rank being threatened?"
"I'm the second-in-command, Skywarp. There's not much room for Shockwave to get promoted to." I deadpanned, lips forming a downward line, unimpressed with his reasoning.
"By title yeah, you are," Skywarp's expression actually turned serious, optics locking onto mine. "But I'm not exaggerating when I say Shockwave's gaining Megatron's favour, fast. Whatever Shockwave's been workin' on, Megatron's been super interested in it. By the pits, I don't think there's been a single cycle where he didn't visit Shockwave's lab. Don't you think that's kinda odd?"
It was indeed very odd. Even if Shockwave had lost his ability to blend into the wall, he was still every bit as bland and uninteresting as before, as far as I knew. However, unlike Skywarp, I was not worried about losing favour from Megatron. The bucket-helm practically gained my flimsy loyalty by my favour of allowing him to participate in Vosian tradition. I was only bound to him by my oath, and I was not above throwing my dignity to the wind if it meant the well-being my fliers. I ruled an entire city-state. I had power and privilege Shockwave could not even dream of. Everything about me was much more significant than that mono-optic, so there was little concern for me, regardless of Megatron visiting his top scientist every cycle.
However, the thought that Megatron was neglecting me for Shockwave did bother me to some extent. It was like a small, nagging glitch at the back of my processors, a tiny, black spot in my spark. It was not detrimental, but it would be a constant nuisance. I could not afford to have any nuisance, no matter how little, to distract me from my duties to my fliers and the war.
"Who cares if Megatron wants to frag his scientist? Maybe he has a fetish for disfigured bots." I vented a huff. "At least Lord Slagger's finally realized his limitations in finding an appropriate berth partner due to his hideous looks. If you ask me, those two probably belong together. Rather pathetic really, and terribly sad for us, that our glorious and wise leader would fall for flattery of all things. A few pretty little words and he's all enthralled, how embarrassing." I drawled, and flipped a wrist in the air as though I didn't have a single care in the world.
"Really?" From the corners of my optics, I could see Skywarp studying my faceplate, brow-ridges in a frown. "You don't care at all?"
"No," I looked away as I climbed off my trine mate, "why should I?" I settled down beside him, lying on my back.
"Well, it's just that from the way the two of you were acting during the announcement ceremony, I was pretty sure somethin' was goin' on."
I clenched my jaw joints, and stared hard at the ceiling to prevent myself from turning to gape at Skywarp. I did not even know what had transpired during the ceremony, but whatever it was, had it been truly that obvious?
The pendant Megatron had given me, hidden in subspace, suddenly weighed.
"I don't know what you are suggesting, Skywarp." I kept my optics averted as I answered, feigning disinterest.
"I'm not trying to suggest anything. I'm just calling it as I see it." Skywarp shifted beside me. I could feel him watching my faceplate. "And I'm not the only one who thinks that something was goin' on, y'know."
I bit down hard on my dentae, and fought to keep myself from startling out of surprise.
"TC agrees with me. Bladeflight hunted me down just to ask me a bunch of really awkward questions." Skywarp listed designations on his fingers, and my spark could have sputtered to extinction when I heard the Fighter Jet general's being dropped.
Oh Primus. If one could offline from embarrassment, I would have done so already. I have never been more thankful in my lifetime that Bladeflight hadn't confronted me directly about his suspicions. I even pitied Skywarp, just a little. Dealing with that explosion of uncomfortable silences was no small feat when it came from a headstrong general determined to get answers.
Oblivious to my churning shame, Skywarp continued to count:
"I could've sworn Nightfire wanted to talk to me about that too," He said, folding another digit, "but he didn't end up doin' it. Just shook his helm and left, muttering to himself. I mean, slag, even Ramjet asked me about it, and we all know he only asked 'cause he wants your cute little aft to himself."
"He does not." I scrunched my nose bridge, and turned my helm to the side to hide my faceplate from Skywarp's view.
"Well, if you insist…" My purple trine mate sounded hesitant, reluctant to drop the subject. I interrupted before he could speak on.
"Did you really come here just to bother me with pointless questions or did you actually have something more worthwhile in mind?" I was a bit more forceful than I'd intended, prompting a minute jerk from my wings. The following silence told me that Skywarp was very much aware of the slip, but he did not comment.
"Well, TC's gonna finish whatever he's doing in about eighteen breems, and I still have a joor before my patrol duties in Kaon, so I thought maybe we can all go out for a flight, y'know, as a trine."
Optics widening, I swung my helm around to face him, pleasantly surprised by our coinciding availability. My wings would have perked on my back if I weren't laying on top them, and a smile tugged at the corners of my lips.
"That leaves us with just enough time to run complicated maneuvers." I said, excitement mounting in my spark.
"Yeah! And speaking of maneuvers," Skywarp began, optics flashing to a bright shine, "I had this awesome idea that—"
"-No, Skywarp," I cut in, tone flat and firm, "After what happened last time? No. No way."
"Awwww, c'mon, don't be like that, Star! I promise it's good this time!" He whined, but there was no way he could change my decision, not when his last ludicrous idea ended with Thundercracker in the bed bay.
"I don't care. The answer is still no."
I leaned back my helm, faceplate to the ceiling, and offlined my optics. Skywarp continued to plead for his case, but I only gave him half an audial of attention. Despite the many changes over the past stellar-cycle, one thing remained constant.
There was nothing quite as satisfying as hearing this idiotic trine mate of mine beg to return to my good graces.
Notes: I'm honestly not entirely happy with this update, simply because it's so short, and I feel like I owe you guys more than just a bridging chapter. Unfortunately, this will have to do for now. Sorry! Next chapter will be better, I promise. (And I know it will be better, because it has fan-service that I think at least some of you will enjoy. -wink-) I apologize for the lateness of this update as well. Classes are going to be out in three weeks, then come finals. Afterwards, my time should free up, which I'm really looking forward to.
Special shout-outs once again to my lovely reviewers: ElizabethA, A. Non, Random523, Starcee138, The-writing-Mew, keeperofcoldtoes, Ashcola17, Cjade, bunyipbabe, Koluno1986, Devlinn Reiko, zantsu, Skylark Starflower, Kira michi, heretherebemonsters, Cloud Kitsune17, ladyredvelvet, Sneer, tiedwithribbons, Eiswolf-Zero, Trixxybaby1995, rj545, and theboombox. As always, getting your feedback makes me smile. Huge thanks and hugs for taking the time to let me know what you guys thought as you read the chapter. :)
First-person POV strikes again! I do have an idea as to why Megatron is acting a little off, at least according to Starscream. If you have any guesses, I'd love to hear them. Orion was fun. Such a sweet little average-Joe. Elita was referred as "he" due to reasons listed in the first "Notes" at the bottom of the Prologue chapter.
Feedback would be great! The review box is conveniently placed riiiight below this message~
You know you want to. ; )