A/N: Starscream will be referred to as Dust Devil – except within his own thoughts – for the duration of the Crew's captivity on the Tidal Wave; this is only temporary!

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Meanwhile…

Dust Devil kept a clear processor as he followed Starquest. The much larger, dark gray mech didn't say much, and if he did, it was too quiet for the Seeker to hear. Besides, he was too busy with the more important things, like mapping out the place. If he is ever allowed free roam of the ship, or less likely, break his comrades out of their imprisonment, then he needs to know where he's going. Can't afford to make a mistake that'll put him and the others directly in harm's way.

The sound of doors sliding open caught Dust Devil's attention. He looked up and saw Starquest entering a room: the Planetarium. Dark and spacious, with a giant holographic map and accompanying control panel taking-up the entire center of the room, and shelves full of data pads and navigational tools all along the far wall.

"I doubt I have to explain to you what this room is," Starquest said.

"What? Oh, uh, yes, of course," Dust Devil answered, startled. Starquest turned his helm to look at the Seeker.

"Nervous?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't I be, after witnessing what happened not that long ago?"

The mechs remained where they were for a few tense minutes.

Oh, Primus, why does he have to be so… Soundwave? Dust Devil thought, managing to keep himself calm, but just barely. If this staring contest doesn't end soon…

"Are you two just going to stand there or are you actually going to come in?"

The new voice forced Starquest to break away from Dust Devil's gaze, much to his relief.

Thank the stars, someone interrupted! Wasn't sure how much longer I could last!

"You seem to be in a particularly bad mood today, Sandstorm," Starquest pointed out, moving further into the room. Dust Devil recollected himself and followed.

Pushed against one of the other walls is a long table, holding more of what is already on the shelves. The silhouette of a bot can be seen standing in front of a small beam of light.

"That's what happens when the work assigned to me by Thundertron is interrupted by none other than Thundertron himself, and then he has the audacity to get angry at me for not finishing the work he gave me because…" Sandstorm suddenly stopped near the end of his rant, turning around and facing the doorway. "Ah, he left."

Dust Devil jumped to attention and looked around. Starquest was no longer around.

"What the? Where did he go? He was just here!" Dust Devil screeched.

"Hey, keep your voice down! Some of this stuff is very delicate!" Sandstorm snapped.

Dust Devil stopped causing a fuss and calmed down.

"My apologies," he said.

"It's alright," Sandstorm vented. He waved his servo at Dust Devil. "Come over here. It's clear you're here to assist."

The Seeker made his way over to the other flight-frame, flinching when the doors slid closed behind him. When he reached Sandstorm, he realized that he's at least a helm taller than the other mech.

"It'll take some time, but you will get used to our First Mate's unusual habits," Sandstorm reassured, his yellow optics never leaving his work.

"Hmm… so, what am I to do?" Dust Devil asked.

"Well, while I am finishing this set of charts I was just complaining to Starquest about in order to get him to leave sooner, you are going to organize the rest."

"Oh. Are you sure?"

Sandstorm's blade-like helicopter wings twitched.

"Did I stutter?"

"No, of course not! I'll get right on that, sir!"

Dust Devil retreated from the agitated mech's side and rushed over to the shelves nearby, which, at a much closer distance, did appear quite messy and disorganized.

Primus, look at this mess! Dust Devil silently complained, scanning the whole set-up and trying to figure out where to start first.

"Don't call me sir."

The Seeker had just reached out to grab a mixed pile of maps when Sandstorm spoke again.

"What?" He asked, turning around.

"Please, don't call me that," Sandstorm repeated. His frame slumped till his front was lying on the table.

What's wrong with him?

"Are you alright?"

"No…"

Sandstorm remained where he was for a minute before straightening his posture.

"And I don't want to talk about it, either."

"I never said…" Dust Devil stopped himself mid-way, realizing that asking for further details was probably a bad idea in this case. "Nevermind."

"What?" Sandstorm asked this time around.

"It's nothing."

Dust Devil looked over the maps held in his servos, then at the ones on the bordering shelves, and much to his relief, it didn't appear that these sets were all too out of order. He put down the load he held and reached for the rest. The Seeker was so focused on not damaging anything that he didn't register the sound of ped steps approaching him.

"What?" Sandstorm repeated, much closer to Dust Devil, who jumped from fright.

"PRIMUS!" He cursed. "Don't do that!"

"Foused, were you?"

"Yes! I didn't want to risk destroying something important that could get me killed!"

"Uh-huh."

Dust Devil flinched, immediately becoming suspicious.

"Why'd you say it like that?" He questioned.

"Don't know what you're getting at," Sandstorm replied, shrugging his shoulder plates. He didn't give the other mech a chance to rebuke before he continued. "So, are you going to answer my question or not?"

"It wasn't much of a question."

"Even a single word can carry a lot of weight behind it."

". . . Fine," Dust Devil vented. "You're clearly not happy here, so why bother staying? It's not because you're scared for your own life; you've made that quite clear."

The Seeker paused to gauge a reaction from Sandstorm. He would've continued on, too, if it wasn't for the dark flicker of the smaller mech's optics.

"What was that?"

"What was what?" Sandstorm repeated, his voice cracking slightly. The embarrassing response was followed by muttered curses.

"Annoying, isn't it? The optics always give it away."

Sandstorm didn't respond. He refused to look back at Dust Devil. The Seeker vented and reached out to touch the other mech, gently resting a servo on their shoulder plate.

"Hey, you don't have to talk about it, but if you need to get something off your chassis, I promise… I promise… how do I word this?"

Suddenly, he felt something pressing against his frame. Dust Devil looked down and was surprised when he saw Sandstorm leaning on him.

"Uh, what are you doing?"

"Sorry, I just… haven't been around someone like you in so long… I miss it," Sandstorm explained, optics closed and arms wrapped around his own frame.

Someone like me? What does he mean? Another Seeker perhaps? Or someone else with a similar flight-frame to mine?

"Ah… well… care to elaborate?" Dust Devil stammered. "If only to make this a little less awkward, maybe."

"It won't help, trust me."

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"You were correct when you said that I don't fear for myself. I fear for someone else, someone I was forced to leave behind."

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"My lover."

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"We planned to become conjunx-endura, but that all changed when Thundertron came out of nowhere and demanded that I join his crew. He was amassing an army of bots from Cybertronian colonies wronged by our ancestral home. My planet, Paradron, was destroyed, so that immediately put me on the list. Being an adventurer and cartographer didn't help, either."

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"Apparently, word of my profession reached Thundertron, and he figured he could use me to wage his war by keeping track of just about everything. I was adamant about not joining; I didn't want to get involved in any more death and destruction."

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"And then Thundertron went after him. I had no choice but to make a deal: join the Star Seekers, or lose the one I love forever."

Tears trickled from the corners of Sandstorm's optics. He grumbled and raised a servo to wipe them away.

"I'm… sorry that you had to go through that," Dust Devil whispered, remembering the time he was put in a similar situation with his fellow Seekers and Megatron.

I can't believe I'm feeling sorry for someone else, but I understand his pain. No sense in lying to myself about it.

"Thank you," Sandstorm rumbled, a small smile forming on his faceplates. Dust Devil allowed one of his own to form as well. "Okay, enough touchy-feely scrap. Time to get back to work."

Dust Devil nodded, but just as both him and Sandstorm returned to their previous tasks…

"Aye, Sandstorm!"

It was Brimstone, leaning in the doorway, Cannonball standing right behind him. Both their frames were covered in bright blue Energon with a hint of green.

Dust Devil had a bad feeling, but he knew better than to act upon it. He had to let things play out, for now, no matter what.

"What happened?" Sandstorm asked, his earlier sorrow completely dissipated.

"Interrogation didn't go as expected, but it was still fun," Brimstone explained, his grin wide and wicked. "Ain't that right, Cannonball?"

"Oh yeah, that 'Con is certainly a tough one!" Cannonball agreed.

"Didn't get much out of him, but whatever. It isn't like he's going anywhere. Speaking of which, you might want to hurry it up with the medical stuff and such. Cannonball and I are heading to the wash racks if ya need us for anything. Later!"

And with that, Brimstone and Cannonball left. Sandstorm shook his helm and cursed.

"I swear… put those maps somewhere safe, Dust Devil, and come with me," Sandstorm said, already grabbing his medical kit and making a beeline for the door. "Knowing those two, that mech isn't in very good shape."

Dust Devil didn't need to be told twice to get his aft in gear. He quickly yet carefully placed his pile on the long table and followed Sandstorm to the Chamber.