XVIII - Legacy II
When I walked through the bridge, the base was in an uproar. Seven slipped away, transforming and rocketed down a hall, presumably to un-shrink himself. No one noticed us walk in and we jogged over to the platform and up the stairs to safety from the flurry of pedes running around. Ratchet was yelling at pretty much everyone in the base, reserving a more or less civil tone only for Optimus. I ran a hand through my hair, taking in the scene in front of me.
"What's happening!" I shouted over the din and looked to the Prime, who was trying to help Ratchet with something I couldn't see. He spun around, apparently surprised to find Will and I here. He didn't answer with words, instead gently nudged Ratchet out of the way of the med berth. Starscream laid there (as usual), though this time he was cuffed to it. He still had the IV hooked into his elbow, not to mention several other new lines and monitors that I failed to place names to. And there was a tube down his throat, which was new. It hurt to look at.
Ratchet seemed to read my thoughts, "He stopped intaking enough a few hours ago, and I don't want to risk removing the tube until he's gotten at least a little of his strength back. The fever will end him without it because his fans have all long since stopped working."
Bulkhead shook his helm, "Scream always has been a glutton for punishment… and he's only getting worse, right doc?" He frowned at the white medic.
"No one asked you." Arcee growled.
Ratchet cleared his throat, "This could merely be a temporary affliction from the red energon." He stated and looked to Seven, who had just entered.
The silver mech scrutinized the other Seeker's fragile-looking frame, watching how his chest plate rose and fell each time with a faint wheeze. But I saw he was trembling and trying to hide it. "Let's hope so."
Smokescreen and Knock Out came rocketing into the base and skidded to a stop. I winced at the loud screech of their brakes, my wings vibrating in annoyance. We all watched in surprise as Jack stepped out, grinning at a picture on his cell phone.
The human cracked up as Smokescreen transformed and leaned in for a closer look. "Ha! I am so posting this tonight!" He gasped for breath in between laughs, "Arcee, Arcee! Check out Vince's car!" Jack held his phone higher so the femme could see it.
"The bully," she knelt down, glaring at the tiny display. It depicted a black muscle car with red and yellow flames painted onto it in an empty parking lot. Fast food and other trash was splattered over the hood and under the car. She seemed mildly taken aback.
The femme stood back up again, "Let me get this straight, you taught Smokescreen and Knock Out everything they never needed to know about fast food."
The human shrugged, "Hey, they passed Driver's Ed. Work hard, play hard."
"Yeah," the white mech agreed, smirking, "no humans were harmed in the making of these photos. Honest!" Arcee and Bulkhead exchanged exasperated looks. He was about to walk away when his optics fell on Starscream. "Whoa," he breathed, looking from him to Seven, to Ratchet, then back to the prone Seeker. "Is he–"
"Nearly," Ratchet answered gravely.
Knock Out looked him over, "Why didn't you comm me?"
"There is not anything you could have done." Optimus stated somberly.
The red medic frowned up at him, "Oh, I'm sure I could've done something, Prime." He waved an arm at the Seeker, "Just look at the state he's in!"
Ratchet butted in sarcastically, "Thank you, but I have it under control, doctor." His tone was laced with contempt. The red medic huffed and rolled his optics, muttering something about "slagging human traffic laws."
Aboard the Nemesis, Soundwave honed in on a specific location, a pinprick on a map in a swath of greenery. Megatron stooped over his shoulder plate, looking pleased. "You have decoded the next Iacon coordinates. Excellent, Soundwave," he straightened back up again. "Then it is time to beta test our decoy. I am sure the Autobots will be, ah, ill-informed of what they seek." The warlord held up a device that looked identical to the containers housing the relics in all but color, instead of blue, its silver was accented with red. However, like them, it was not empty.
The silent mech dipped his helm in silent acknowledgement, then focused his attention back onto the console's screens.
Megatron continued to speak, facing the blue mech again. "This," he held up the mock container for the mech to see, "is the instrument we shall use to debilitate the Autobots and rescue my dear second from their clutches," his grip tightened over the device. A few perforations in the side allowed for noxious fumes to seep out, tickling the mechs' nasal sensory nodes. The pair ignored it. Soundwave plucked the container from his master's grasp and opened a ground bridge. He transformed and spiraled off into its depths to the other side.
The warlord pressed a button on the console, and it vanished in an intense flash of white light. He sent the screens away and then clasped his servos behind his back, watching the front of his ship spear clouds from behind its thick, front windows.
"Soon, my dear Starscream. Soon."
The ping of an alert sounded from a scanner hooked up to my double. I jumped, looking towards the source of the noise. "What is that?" I asked, my voice an octave higher than normal.
Knock Out went over to see, "It seems he's waking up," a quiet sigh of relief escaped my mouth, "Ratchet, I would get over here."
The other medic went over to the berth and gingerly but quickly extracted the tube from down the Seeker's throat.
My banded wings flared up, "Why are you removing that if he still needs it? Have you no sense?!"
Ratchet glanced up at me, "If he wasn't intaking by himself, he would not be conscious."
Knock Out rolled his optics halfheartedly, "Everyone knows that."
"Clearly." My tone grew icy.
Starscream's talons dug into the berth and his chassis seized up as the end of the tube came out. "Easy…" Ratchet murmured softly to the Seeker. "Knock Out, what are his vitals?" He prodded brusquely, not even glancing up.
"Weak." He answered vaguely a second after scanning the screens next to the berth.
"Details!" Ratchet snapped, setting the tube aside on a table but keeping his left servo planted firmly on the Seeker's chest plate.
Knock Out took an intake, "Intakes are shaky and shallow but regular, pulse rate is stable, more or less." He sighed before continuing, "Energon pressure is low, but that's not what's worrisome. Temperature is well above normal levels―thirteen degrees―none of his fans appear to be functioning, which explains that. Let him see friendly faceplates, he'll likely be disoriented."
The silver mech's ruby optics onlined at their dimmest setting, darting around feverishly and he strained against his bonds with every ounce of strength in his enfeebled chassis. I saw with a sharp pang of worry that his entire right leg, hip to pede, remained limp against the berth. I couldn't bring myself to be that set of friendly faceplates, sick to my tank.
Ratchet saw where I was looking, "Even if he were to recover from this, he would never walk again. Not unaided, I guarantee you. And I doubt that Knock Out or I could rig up a crutch sophisticated enough to get the job done. I-I'm sorry." the medic's helm hung in defeat.
I took his comment with silence, walking over to my double's side with slow movements as one would approach a wild animal. I made sure I was in his field of view before speaking. "Starscream?" His name rolled off my glossa easily, but dropped like a brick.
He blinked up at me from the berth, squirming a bit beneath the shivers that were more like convulsions wracking his frame, electricity sparking on and off, arcing at us at times. "Am I dead?" He asked quietly, with a tone so keen that I was startled. "You-you're me…"
Everyone watched our exchange in silence, for which I was grateful. But I could hardly process that over what he had just said… He didn't recognize me. Was his processor being wiped? Could his RAM have been corrupted or erased?
I took a deep intake and willed my tone to be steady. But it came out reedy anyway. "Starscream, remember? I-I'm your clone. Seven? Remember?" I trailed off as his crimson optics flickered. But deep in those little red orbs something familiar glimmered and my spark seemed to lift ever so slightly.
He looked past me to the gritty ceiling of the missile silo and beyond. I snarled quietly to myself at the indisputable fact that the fading Seeker had to spend what have been more likely than not his last days bound to this rock, rather than in the air. He was unable to even see the sky at the very least. The mech looked like a caged bird that had nowhere to go even if he escaped.
Optimus looked down on him with gentle optics, glancing at the screens monitoring his vitals. He looked back at Starscream, "Your fever is lower."
"One degree doesn't look promising," Arcee pointed out, glancing at the screen monitoring his vitals.
The other Seeker shuddered heavily again and a stronger bolt of electricity zapped the medic. Ratchet's servo slipped and he grimaced, but pushed it back down on Starscream's chest plate and forced him to the berth again. My double fixed his gaze back onto the medic, then the Prime. "Thanks."
"You are welcome."
"Optimus, he needs to conserve what strength he has left," hissed Ratchet from the corner of his mouth.
"Don't break up the band!" Miko begged quietly.
Starscream let out a wet cough, a startling amount of energon bubbling out of his mouth. Judging by his expression, it hurt a lot. "I didn't deserve this," he sighed, glancing away for a second before looking back to them.
"No, Starscream, you didn't." Optimus agreed, and gently laid a large servo on his shoulder.
The Seeker coughed again and more energon made an appearance on his gaunt frame, "I-I deserve far worse. You know what, Seven?" he looked up at me.
"What?" I asked, stiff as a board.
"Make sure that you–" he coughed again, but more weakly this time. The electricity wracking his chassis fizzled out for the most part, only coming in sporadic bursts now. "We don't need to be identical for me to know you'll–you'll be fine. He looked past me, "All of you stub–stubborn bots will be fine. You'll be f-fine…"
"Don't feed me that slag!" I snapped, trembling. "Just keep fighting… I'm not giving you a choice."
He looked at me with glassy optics, a wry smirk gracing his faceplates, his voice hoarse. "Please. The choice–" he coughed, convulsing and gasping for air, then continued when he recovered somewhat, "the ch-ch-choice isn't up to you." I looked at Ratchet and he met my gaze, looking almost fearful. My emotions were roiling so much that I couldn't fathom what my expression said, but it was nothing good, surely. I grabbed the bases of a few cables hooked into places on the Seeker's armor and wrenched them out with a splash of fluids.
"Have you blow a major fuse?! What are you doing?" Ratchet gasped, rushing over to stop me.
My wings flared up with a sharp snap! "Back. Off." I snarled quietly.
"Do you wish to end him sooner?" the medic snapped.
"He doesn't have much time anyway, why squander it trapped beneath this rock of a planet, bound to a table! He is a Seeker! It goes against every basic one and zero in our processors!" I roared. Ratchet, evidently taking heed of my words, removed his bonds, not looking pleased in the slightest.
"Se-ev, what are you…" Starscream croaked, looking up at me fearfully.
"Shh," I whispered to him in a much softer tone. I gently lifted him up off the berth, startled by how light he was. His hot, trembling chassis felt so pathetic that my spark twinged as I drew in an intake and looked down at him, while he looked up at me. My twin reflexively drew in on himself, shivering. I felt the shock from each sporadic burst of electricity, each weaker than the last.
He looked in Knock Out's general direction with glassy optics, "K-Knock Out, tell Megatron to fuh-file his claws… they h-hurt." His chassis seized up as he coughed wetly, discolored energon greeting me, the sound rending my spark. His dim, crimson optics flickered and he seemed to hover on the border of unconsciousness. I touched his cheek plate out of some instinctive terror, thinking that if he went out now, he wouldn't be coming back.
The red mech didn't quite know what to make of this. "I will," he squeaked.
"Shh," I said to him gently, feeling as though on the verge of losing it. "Megatron isn't here. He can't hurt you."
I strode down the hall to the hidden entrance of our base, cradling my emaciated double while telling him to be quiet and occasionally jostling him to keep him awake. The others trailed behind me at a close but respectable distance in silence, even as the rock that was the door moved from hidden mechanisms in the butte and I strode out into the glaring sunlight.
I laid Starscream down onto the dirt, being extra careful of his helm. A breeze passed through our wings and he sighed, relaxing. He looked genuinely happy for the first time in a long time. I laid down next to him, pressing the side of my chassis against his, wishing with all my spark for one simple thing: that he was better.
My optics scanned the sky, and settled on a portion that I felt like a compass needle inside of me was always pointing to. I raised my arm, pointing to it, "There's Cybertron, on the far edge of the Milky Way. We'll go back there someday together, maybe visit for a bit, you know, see the sights and all that. When the war's over, slag, we can travel the galaxy for all I care. Maybe build our own starship…" I chuckled wistfully, "Speaking of ships, remember when Will tried to order pizza from the Harbinger? An utter nightmare, I tell you." The words were just flooding out of me. I shook my helm, "And that time following when you got your T-Cog once again, you came back inside the base and Miko begged you to take her for a flight? She said the sky's the limit and challenged you to go―what, Mach six? She has no idea… you should have seen your faceplates! Also when she got her hands on the shrink ray… Primus, that was maddening; she was taller than me! Me, I tell you! Well, we are the same height…" I kept rambling on, feeling that time would stand still if we hid from the present within the folds of the past.
"The sky," he shivered, cutting me off. "The skies of this planet are always so beautiful…" he gazed up at it, its cobalt color reflecting in his optics as they focused, turning his helm to see me better. The only clouds in those orbs were the ones reflected from the sky. "And to all of you, I'm fighting a losing b-battle…"
"For recognizing that, you have a true strength." Optimus said sadly. "It suits you." he added quietly, though I doubted he heard.
A wan smile flickered across my double's faceplates and another zap of electricity curled around his chest plate for a split second, then fizzled out. For a moment, a happier, almost younger mech shone through the weakened, dying mask. "Make sure you all aren't… just… you have to best Megatron…"
"I'm proud of the mech you have become," the Prime smiled back, kneeling beside him as his optics flickered.
Starscream's arm shakily reached up and his fingertips brushed against my cheek plate, right beneath my optic. "Seven—I never did tell you…" my double trailed off quietly, his optics glazing.
"Tell me what?" I urged, taking his servo.
"I didn't merely clone you to have another set–" he coughed, "another set of servos to put to work…"
"Starscream!" I exclaimed as he drew in a rattling intake and his optics dimmed, squeezing his servo. "Please, just–just tell me what you need to tell me."
He blinked hard and his optics grew brighter. "I cloned you to have a friend…"
I almost dropped his servo and suddenly felt streaks of lubricant down my faceplates. "Star…"
"I didn't get a friend," he stated quietly and gave me a languid smile. Some foreign instinct or bout of insanity propelled me to hoist him into a sitting position and wrap my arms around him, feeling the very life draining out of his chassis.
"Yes you did."
"See you later, brother…" he whispered knowingly in my audial. I pulled away, holding him up by his shoulder plates at arm's length and his sleek helm lolled.
"S-Starscream?" I whimpered, gently shaking him. He didn't answer and his helm lolled in the other direction, dark optics staring at the dirt. I pulled him to my chest and clutched his helm to my neck cables, feeling sick. "No… you don't know what you're saying, you won't see any of us later…" I whimpered, holding him tighter, "You can't… you can't just leave after all we've been through…"
Someone laid a servo on my shoulder and tried to pull me away but I resisted with everything I had. [Sev…] the Seeker finally slipped out of my arms for everyone to see and I wound up hugging myself, shaking with silent sobs.
"No…" Ratchet breathed, shoving Knock Out out of his way. He slammed his medical kit down onto the ground—I hadn't noticed that he had brought it out here with him—and whipped out what looked like an AED. "Clear! Come on, come on…" He administered a powerful electric shock to his chest plate. I stepped back, watching it all in a daze. Ratchet tried twice more, then Smokescreen laid a grabbed his arm, bringing him to a stop. "Doc, he's gone." The medic sagged and replaced the AED. My tank churned and a fist constricted my spark.
Bulkhead came over to me and got me on my pedes. I directed my attention to the fallen Seeker's chest plate, struggling viciously to get out of the brute's grasp. He seemed to know what I wanted, reluctantly relinquishing his hold on my shoulder plates.
Then something astounding happened. A smallish, bright, thing seemed to struggle from his all-too still chest plating. As I got a better look, I saw it was silvery, a pulsating ball of energy that was both beautiful and vulnerable. I watched in awe as it hovered up to me and drew level with my faceplates, glowing with a soft, friendly whitish light.
"Starscream?" I whispered weakly, astounded but numb at the same time in a way I didn't entirely understand.
[Is that—his spark?] Bumblebee whirred in disbelief.
It seemed that it was. It bobbed in the air in front of me and I reached out to it curiously to make sure it was real, the tips of my talons inches away and closing. It jumped towards me, closing the gap between it and my fingers until I was touching it. The white spark let out a brighter pulse than any before, and I suddenly found myself lying on my back on the ground with no memory of how I'd gotten there.
"Sev, are you all right?" Smokescreen asked, offering a servo to help me up.
"What kind of question is that?!" Arcee gave him a disdainful look. I waved for them to be quiet and got up on my own, looking around. Knock Out pointed behind me, seeing that I was wondering where the spark had gone.
I looked around to find it bobbing the air as if worriedly watching me, giving off the air of concern.
"I'm okay…" I assured the spark quietly, not really sure of the words' meaning.
And then it zipped off, up into the sky and beyond. I was stunned into silence as we all watched its progress until it vanished from sight altogether.
"It's going back to Cybertron," Arcee breathed.
I was fairly sure I was shaking and bit my glossa. Some bot took me from behind and pulled me into a comforting hold—I didn't see who it was.
In the corner of my vision, Knock Out ran his servo over the offlined Seeker's faceplates, shuttering his optics. He could have been in recharge and looked no different. A pain the likes of which I had never felt before bled from my spark, somehow worse than any physical injury I'd ever endured. But oddly enough, it wasn't caused by something inflicted upon, rather the lack thereof.
I turned around and buried my helm into the bot's red chest plate, breaking down into sobs that I didn't even try to fend off.
I stayed far away from the others, having gotten tangled up and lost in my thoughts. It was apparent that there was controversy over where to bury his chassis, that I could glean from what the others were saying. My optics fell onto the Seeker's chassis covered in the patchwork quilt that the medics used to keep draped over him, covering the slight mech like a shroud in a cruel irony, one of his slender arms lolling out. From this, I could tell that they—meaning Ratchet and Knock Out—had removed his missiles for safety purposes. But as for the site, I didn't lend my preference, knowing that he would not want to be entombed within this planet for eternity. It was all equally horrible, but then again, there wasn't exactly an alternative. We—meaning he and I—were and are Seekers, made for the skies, not the dust and rocks. My chassis still shook with the occasional sob as I sat against the base of the butte, watching and cursing the cheery sun high above our helms. A balmy wind swept past my wings. No one came over to me, however, so I remained wrapped up in my own morbid thoughts, listening to the occasional scrape scrape of dirt.
I started at the sound of Optimus' voice, then stood back up and walked over to them, dragging my pedes. His tone was dark, but he held his emotions in check and kept a stoic expression on his faceplates. "As of this day, we eight Autobots remain on this planet. In the end, Starscream chose to relinquish his function for our cause—for those he cared about rather than remain a pawn in Megatron's tyranny, as well as MECH and Silas' delusions." He took an intake before continuing, "And as Autobots, but also fellow Cybertronians, we must not allow his past misdeeds to define him. Rather, uphold his legacy in seeking to vanquish the Decepticons and bring peace to this world and our race." His voice took on a note of steely determination, and the others stood a bit taller as well.
Oliver stepped forward, looking up to me a brief moment before speaking. Although it had only been seconds, it felt like several minutes. "Optimus is right," he tried to smile but it came out more as a slight grimace and his tone somehow steadied, "Starscream wouldn't have wanted us to be crying over him and doing nothing. Even though we knew he was going to die," he hesitated for a split second before resuming his speech, "you know, because of the virus, he willingly sped it up to save Will and my family. I can't even say how thankful I am for that. But we didn't deserve it." He shuffled off back over to his friend's side, head hung.
To everyone's surprise, it was Arcee who spoke up next. Her tone was soft, and she was looking at me. "I will never forget that he took Cliffjumper from us. But Oliver's right, no one deserves to pass on like that. Just watching him fade like that," she paused, "I wish… I wish we could have reconciled our differences while we had the chance. But I hope that both Cliff and Scream are resting in peace."
She walked past me, but I touched the back of her servo, getting her attention. "Thank you," I said quietly, "for not saying harsh words."
Knock Out came forwards, his tone thick with emotion, "It was his choice, and we can't blame you all for that. No matter how squishy and vulnerable you humans are… h-he stuck up for you all." He swallowed quickly before continuing, "Other than Breakdown… he was the closest thing to a friend I had on the Nemesis, even in the worst of times. Especially then. I never really realized we were friends—but now that he's gone…"
"The feeling was mutual." I agreed in a forced monotone, not trusting any of my emotions to do the talking for me, "I believe I can speak for him on that."
Optimus came over to me and made sure I looked at him before he spoke. "Seven," his tone was stern but gentle at the same time, "grief is natural, and we all have felt it in this war. All of us are more than willing to help," his optics seemed to smile at me, "but you must permit us to."
I glowered at him, "Your help is the last thing I need." He gave me a sad look, almost disappointed, but not hurt. Understanding.
I hated it. Loathed it, with every circuit, fuse, one, and zero in my chassis.
Slowly, the other Autobots cleared out, going back into the base in pairs through the hidden entrance in the side of the butte. The four humans, including Jack and Miko, went in with Optimus last. The Prime gave me a final nod, somehow understanding. The two doors ground to a close over them, sealing them inside the former missile silo. Now alone, I transformed and flew up to Cliffjumper's empty grave and plucked a sizable stone off its peak, then scratched Cybertronian glyphs into its face. I jumped off the butte with the rock in servo, not bothering to transform and fired my thruster on my back, using it to slow my fall so I didn't break my legs. I landed lightly and walked over to the grave. Reading the inscription one last time, I set it down at the front of the mound, not even needing to take a step to reach it.
Then without a second glance, I transformed, flying low and close to the ground, a plume of dust flying up in my wake. My engine screamed as I flew faster and faster, almost beginning to overheat. But I continued to fly, away from the mound of freshly turned earth brushing up against Cliffjumper's rock pile. Away from the impersonal headstone that read:
HERE LIES STARSCREAM
And towards the future, whatever it may hold.
A/N: This hurt to write. I always listen to music when writing, and for this chapter, "Good Grief" by Bastille seemed to set the mood. I would recommend it.