It still didn't make any sense, and that aggravated him to no end.
Starscream glared at the Tagan Heights Province Commander as she sat on the edge of one of the outer walls of the complex with her second, staring out at the teams of workers mining for raw materials. Her body language was almost impossible to read at this distance, with her wings locked into position as they seemed to be, and that only added a level of irritation to the problem facing the Lord of the Decepticons. He could discern no reason for the seeker femme to have such a relationship with the groundling. No explanation he could think of had matched all the evidence he had gathered.
He was beginning to seriously suspect that there was something deceptive happening here.
His irritation urged him to simply destroy them both, but that would leave him with the problem of finding a new base commander that would be as good at the job as Verasuvius was. Ugh. No, that would be far too much trouble, but it was obvious that he couldn't leave them be. He considered calling Soundwave away from his hunting in Protihex, but the telepath was hot on the trail of the Prime and he hated to interrupt that. That only left one thing to do, he suddenly realized, one more thing he could use to either smoke them out as traitors or separate them to prevent their treachery from growing to endanger him.
With a sly grin, the Decepticon Lord slunk further into the shadow he was spying from and hurried off to give some orders.
~0~
Jazz slammed his hands on the table. "TRANSFER?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN I'M BEING TRANSFERRED?"
Star tossed the pad over to him, face set grimly. "Says right there, take a look. Polyhex."
The mech snatched the pad up off the table and scowled at it, running down the document and picking out his name easily, at the very top of the list of soldiers to be transferred to the front lines.
"That can't be right." He snapped. "You gotta go talk to him, tell him he's got it wrong. He can't just transfer me, I'm fragging second in command!"
"And he is Starscream. He can do whatever he wants." Star sighed, wings drooping a bit. "We should have seen this coming." She muttered, rubbing her forehead.
"How were we supposed to know he was gonna do something as stupid as try to get rid of—he doesn't know, does he?"
The abrupt hairpin turn in the sentence didn't faze the femme and she only sighed. "No. He'd be attacking far more directly and with some amount of panic if he knew. There would be a cocky confrontation with half the army and they would try to capture us by force. We would not be having this conversation."
"Then what's the deal? What's his game? Why in the name of Cybertron would he want to get rid of me?" the red and black mech demanded.
"You remember how it was when Starscream took command?" she asked without looking up.
"What does that have to do with anything?" Jazz threw his hands in the air as he paced, waving the datapad around with the almost irrepressible urge to throw it at the floor and stomp on it.
"When he took command, you remember? He needed a new air commander. Who got the job?"
Jazz let out a hot, whistling vent, refreshing his visor and telling himself to go along with it, he had no other option. "Thundercracker."
"Who should have gotten the job?"
That pulled Jazz from his frustrated pacing to stare in confusion at the dark femme. "Wha'd'you mean?"
"Probably the seeker who wanted the job, who would be good at it and follow orders, right? Not the one who had expressed less than a firm belief in the Decepticon cause. Wouldn't you say?"
Jazz frowned at her. "I guess, but what's this got to do with us?"
Star looked directly at him, red optics dimming grimly. "That seeker's name was Skywarp. That should have been his position. But Starscream gave it to Thundercracker. Why?"
Jazz stopped, stood, thought about it though some part of him still wanted to throw the pad against the wall and rage hatefully against the Decepticons and this blasted, unending mission, and most of all Starscream, the creature he hated above all others in the whole Primus-forsaken universe. "I dunno…" he finally answered. "Because he could?"
She leaned forward, one finger tapping the table to accent her words. "Because it divided them. They were too close for comfort, close enough to pose a threat to Starscream, Skywarp in particular. So he pitted them against each other, and effectively destroyed any hope of collaboration between them to either leave or overthrow him."
And ironically sealed his fate in the process. The soft thought entered her mind like the quietest whisper in her audio. She resisted the urge to glance out at the bellowing Hole, keeping her optics locked with the mech's as understanding dawned in them.
Funny how these things work out. She thought back.
Jazz was scowling by now and Star leaned back into her seat, point made. He paced again. "What does he expect us t'do? Who would follow us, if we did try to take over? 'S not like we got a Matrix to wave around and claim command with."
The seeker shrugged. "He's paranoid. What do you expect?"
Finally, the mech threw himself into his seat, tossing the pad back to her and folding his arms on the table. "Fine. So wha'd'we do about it?"
"The transfer is set for five cycles. The attack is scheduled for eight. I… Jazz, without drawing undue attention at this critical time period, I don't know how well I can stall. If you could slip away and hide in the community until—"
"No."
There was absolutely no sign of the frustration and agitation Jazz had been displaying mere seconds ago, only a firm, unyielding determination. Star closed her mouth.
"I am gonna be here to watch the expression on that fragger's face as we tear his empire apart. Don't try and tell me I won't."
Star thought for a moment, her wings pensively angling further back to be more streamlined, less of a target. She tilted her helm, optics soft. "Jazz, I understand—you know I do—but I'm just not sure we can pull that off. Not with how delicate the situation is."
Jazz was unmoved, unwavering. "I am going to be here." He enunciated clearly.
They stared at each other without flinching for a long time.
Any action she took as Verasuvius to delay the transfer would be an unacceptable risk of attention. Starscream would hear no excuse, and any 'accident' would sharpen the Decepticon Lord's suspicions. If he dug any deeper, they risked losing their cover, and every moment of time they stayed locked up tight in their roles as Decepticons was another moment of victory for the Autobots, another moment of delay in Starscream's reaction time. The only other option was to move the attack forward, but they didn't have time to coordinate with their slow, cumbersome communication via datapad.
But then again, nobody said that was how they had to do it. This did sort of constitute an emergency.
Star leaned forward a bit and Jazz matched the movement, refusing to back down. "Promise to behave. Promise to keep it together and hold down the fort while I'm gone and I will make this happen for you." She said quietly.
Jazz's optic band flickered with an unnamed emotion. "Deal."
She nodded and stood. "Then I'll be going for a flight. Good luck."
"Tell Thunderous I said hi." The saboteur replied, and then a smile split his face apart. "An' I think I'll owe ya for a long time after this."
"I think you just might."
The next moment she was out the window and blasting away from the tower. Jazz relaxed a bit, still smiling, and watched the light of her thrusters until she was out of sight before finally moving to leave.
~0~
The femme landed in Tarn, quickly shifting into a ground-based alt-mode, and drove the last short distance to where she knew the Prime and his 'Bots were stationed at the moment. She ran into the first sentries shortly after she moved underground. The only indication that she had been spotted, of course, was the tingle of their targeting locks, a sensation too faint for most mecha to even notice. She paused and transformed a moment before one of the sentries stepped out of his cover.
"State your designation, rank, and purpose." He ordered.
Star met the mech's pale blue optics. He'd been grey and red once. Now the only thing left of his paint job was the red chevron on his helm, and the only thing left of his talkative, vibrant personality was the apparent youth in his face. The light in his optics was anything but innocent and friendly, these cycles. The femme's tires spun on her back in grief for a moment as she came face to face with the young gunner for the first time since news of Prowl's fate had come to them.
"Bluestreak." She said softly. "It's just me, Star Nova. I need to speak to Thunderous immediately. It's something of an emergency."
Bluestreak straightened from his stance, studying her before relaxing even more. "Oh. It's been a long time, Star. Good to see you. Thunderous Prime is this way."
He gestured her past him and she obediently trotted down the dark tunnel, pausing only a moment on her way by to put a hand on the young mech's shoulder before moving on. Bluestreak didn't meet her gaze, optics constantly searching for the ever-present danger he lived with, and he promptly disappeared back into his bolt-hole once she was past.
She passed three more sets of guards before making it to the temporary base proper. She didn't need anybody to tell her where the Prime was—the Matrix's energy was easily traceable from across the planet—but she had acquired an escort of Red Alert, Ratchet, and several others from the community by the time she found him. The mech was in a conference with several of his officers in an impromptu meeting room when they interrupted.
"Thunderous Prime." The Nova greeted as the mechs in the room looked up. She smiled as she set optic on the Prime for the first time since he had become such. "I hope you're not in the middle of a crisis, because I sort of am."
"Thank you, Cliffjumper, we'll have to finish this later." Thunderous dismissed his officers with a nod and most mechs evacuated the room, leaving Star, Prime, Ratchet, and Red Alert alone.
Thunderous gave a tight smile back, looking tired as he gestured for the three others to take a seat. "I would think it would be something more than 'sort of' a crisis to warrant your first personal appearance." He pointed out as they settled around the makeshift table.
The femme cocked her helm and frowned, giving him a shrewd look. "What happened?" she asked flatly. The Prime sighed deeply, cycling an impressive amount of air through his intakes.
"A scouting party had a run in with…" he hesitated. Star cocked an optic ridge. "With the femmes." He finished, almost in a mutter. "Reports suggest that Elita-One was leading them."
Their optics met and for an instant they shared a pain that wasn't their own. Star nodded. "I've heard more than a few rumors on our end. I assume it did not go well."
The Prime sighed again. "Not very. It's unclear who shot first, but only three of our mechs made it back. The femmes appear to be completely rogue, and very dangerous." Thunderous gave her a hopeful look. "Any suggestions for dealing with them?"
Star looked down, offlining her optics for a moment. Her wheels slowly spun on her back. "Stay out of their way." She finally advised softly. "Elita's quarrel is with Starscream and the Decepticons, but if you draw attention to yourself she won't be likely to treat you or your mechs much differently than them." She looked up sharply to pin the new Prime with an intense stare. "She was bonded to Optimus, you know that. Her survival past his deactivation is… unusual. She won't be entirely rational anymore, and it's quite possible that she resents you."
Thunderous Prime smiled wryly. "Well, that's nothing new. So long as they don't start hunting us, we should be alright."
He blinked when the femme's intense stare didn't let up.
"Perhaps… I can change that." She murmured after several uncomfortable moments.
Thunderous cleared his vents. "So, what is your crisis, Nova?"
Star jerked, snapping out of whatever thought process she had fallen into. "Right. As you know…" she hesitated a moment, optics darting around and scanners sweeping the room before returning her attention to the Prime. "Starscream and Skywarp are currently taking some sort of holiday in the Tagan Heights province. I do not believe Jazz's and my positions are compromised." She shook her helm. "However, Starscream has seen reason enough to stage an intervention of sorts. He's transferring Jazz to the front lines in Polyhex."
"He'll get killed out there!" Ratchet objected.
Star shook her helm again. "Not before I would retrieve him, but that's not the point. He's decided to dig in his heels and be stubborn about it. He insists on being in position for the attack as we planned for him to be, and I promised to make that happen."
Thunderous nodded, although a bit warily. "What will that require us to do?"
Star sucked in a vent. "We have to move the attack forward three cycles."
The Prime blinked. Audibly.
"That is absolutely impossible!" Red Alert almost leaped from his seat in outrage. "It can't be done!"
"It can and it will have to." Star countered without taking her gaze from Thunderous'. "I won't let Jazz down. He's never let me down."
After a moment of thought and forestalling any more complaints from Red with a raised hand, Thunderous slowly nodded. "I think, with you here, we can probably pull that off. Just give me a moment to gather my officers."
Star nodded and smiled in relief. She pulled a datapad from subspace and finished preparing her notes. This was going to be challenging, to put it mildly.
~0~
Four joors later the femme was on her way out of the base. She hesitated, glancing the way she had come, and then down a deeper, darker tunnel off to her right. After a moment's thought, she turned right with determination in her steps. She had a femme commander that she needed to talk to.
~0~
Almost five and a half joors later Jazz looked up from the pad he was reading, peering out the window intently for a moment before dropping the pad and rising to his pedes. The pinpoint of light he had spotted quickly moved closer, eventually becoming discernable as seeker thrusters. The mech shifted, partially in relief and partially in continued agitation for his commander's well-being. The instant the femme transformed to land in the tower room and stumbled, bending over a bit, he knew something was wrong.
"Star! What happened, y'need a medic?" he demanded, helping her to a seat on the couch and retrieving a cube of energon for her. She took it gratefully, keeping a hand firmly to her side.
"No, I should be fine. I just ran into a little bit of trouble."
Jazz frowned as Star took a few gulps, pulling his first aid kit from subspace and insistently tugging her hand away from the wound. He shot her an accusing look when he found a jagged, carbon-scored rend in her black plates. The wound was leaking, lightly but steadily, and he quickly got to work patching her up and cleaning the fluids that had smeared over her plating.
"Trouble with who?" he asked as he worked.
The femme sighed. "Trouble… with Elita and her femmes."
Jazz's visor brightened as he jerked to look at the seeker. Star met his shocked stare and nodded grimly. "It's true. Elita-One still lives and commands the femmes."
Jazz blinked a couple times. "Well, that does explain where they all got off to for all this time. But… Elita? How… How is she?" he wondered cautiously, pain flitting across his expression.
Star's wings drooped. "Well, better than she obviously could be… but not as good as I had hoped. I told her about the attack, and invited her to join us. She didn't have a problem with that, but then when I started talking about meeting with Thunderous… well, that's when things went downhill. The good news is, we've worked everything out with Prime's forces, for the most part, and we should be ready to go in five orns."
She smiled wanly at her second and Jazz grinned back. "You're th'best, Star!"
She hummed, taking another gulp of energon. "Don't thank me until it works. How were things here?"
Jazz revved his engine in agitation. "You would not believe th'time I've had keepin' that slagging seeker off my back about you disappearin'. Don't be surprised if you get a full interrogation tomorrow. Fragging glitch." He muttered.
"Great, just what I need; some quality time with Screamer." Star muttered, engines vibrating and clicking unhappily.
Jazz hummed in sympathy. "Don' worry, I'll scrounge up somethin' t'get ya away from th'fragger."
The femme's smile was a little more sincere this time. "Thanks, Jazz. I can always count on you."
"Sure can!" the saboteur beamed, and she laughed.
"Alright, mech, if your trip over the moons finishes sometime in the next few joors, I would suggest getting some rest. We're both gonna need it if we're going to keep this up until the attack."
Jazz was instantly serious. "Right, no room for screw-ups in the home stretch. Recharge well, Star." He said as she got to her pedes and started for her door.
She paused halfway through the frame. "Oh yeah, someone's got to tell Streetwise the new plan. Here's the pad, you wanna do it for me?"
"Yup." The mech bounced off the couch, catching the pad as she tossed it to him and starting to grin again as he followed her.
"Just try not to wake me up on your way back in, okay?" she admonished with a smirk while he typed in the passcode and she settled on her berth.
"Wouldn' dream of it, femme." He chuckled, and then the elevator started to drop and Star initiated her recharge sequence.
~0~
The next on-cycle the femme was ambushed shortly after appearing in the command center, as expected.
"My Lord." Verasuvius murmured respectfully as the larger seeker stepped into the room like he owned it. Which, he did. But not for long, if things worked out the way she planned them to.
Starscream eyed her suspiciously as she gave a slight bow. He slowly continued closer, studying her intently, and then finally looked away to inspect the main monitor she had been reading reports on. Vera held her bow until he turned his attention from her, and then took a small step back, yielding control to the Decepticon Lord.
"Yes, and where have you been for the last cycle, femme? Rather unprofessional, to abandon your base for so long." The inquiry started casual, but ended on a scathing note.
"My apologies, Lord Starscream. I felt the urge for a flight. I assure you, Ricochet would have been well equipped to handle any situation that arose, and I was never more than a comm away. I would have extended an invitation for you and your seekers to join me, but, well, a femme needs her alone time."
Starscream gave a non-committal hum and cast his gaze over her again. He couldn't detect a lie in her, and he had become quite adept at reading mecha over the vorns. With his own base coding having him make plans to go on his own excursion later in the cycle, he supposed he couldn't begrudge his fellow seeker her absence to sate her need for open sky. He turned away again.
"Very well. I suppose I can excuse you this once, but don't think I will be so forgiving the next time you disappear without a word to your Lord."
"Of course not. I am most grateful for your mercy, Lord Starscream." The femme murmured, bowing again.
A moment of silence passed as they both read the R&D report on the screen, and then Vera cocked her helm.
"I saw the transfer list you wrote up yesterday, my Lord." She started softly.
Starscream's engines clicked and his wings twitched dismissively. "What of it?"
"I only mention it to express approval of Ricochet's transfer. He has been a valuable second in command. The front lines will benefit from his skills, I'm sure."
Her only answer was another non-committal grunt and dismissive wing flick and she left it alone.
/Need back-up yet?/ Jazz commed only a breem later.
/Nope. He's already let me drop it. Doesn't seem very interested in anything I have to say today./
/Better than th'alternative. Right then. Guess I'll get back t'work./
/You do that, Ricochet. And don't let me catch you slacking off again./
The mech's laughter filtered over the comm frequency as he signed off, and Star was happy to hear it.
~0~
The next four orns leading up to the attack passed almost casually as the last preparations were made with Thunderous' troops, in the Community, and in the Tagan Heights province itself. Anticipation hung thick in the air between the base commander and her second, only growing as the attack drew nearer and Starscream showed no sign of heading out.
And then finally, the orn came.