[The Cyberverse continuity is the primary inspiration, with references made to the 2019 comic reboot and other sources of events, lore and characterisation.]
Possible trigger warning – bodily issues and crippled self-esteem, as Starscream may be having something of a nervous breakdown.
"I'll be taking a brief leave of absence," Starscream rasps with his back turned, vocaliser warbling more than usual. His wings flutter, trembling as he is within his warframe. His digits clench and unclench, creaking over the soft purr of his overworked cooling fans. "Just for a few days."
"Understood, Sir."
"However, I acknowledge that this will be longest we've been apart, and so, I must entrust the care of our own to the one I deem sufficiently capable of temporarily fulfilling my station in my absence, to remotely satisfactory standards." He can be very verbose and is the master of insulting compliments.
"…Acid Storm, Sir?"
"They do not possess sufficient personal responsibility over others. None of them do. For all your mistakes, you are the most responsible. I want you to take charge while I'm gone."
Slipstream could be bowled over with a mere flick to her chassis. Starscream has never, ever willingly given over an inch of his power to anyone else, before. "…Captain?"
"Yes, you shall act as Captain, in my absence. I'm glad you grasp your assignment."
She anxiously grinds her mandible. This is unprecedented. She has never considered herself ambitious, before, but he has defended his title with jealousy, even from the likes of her. Why the drastic change of Spark?
"You can do this, can't you?"
"O-of course, Sir!" She hopes so. She stands rigidly to attention, squinting both confused and horrified at his back plate, as if watching him spontaneously sprout an extra arm out of his spinal seam. "I won't disappoint you!" She instantly wishes she did not just say that. Why did she just say that.
"Excellent. Then I shall prepare to depart shortly."
She flounders. "Sir, uh…" Gathers herself, never having been a coward. "If I may…"
He does not refuse.
She sighs, taking it as permission. "Is everything alright?" She asks it ever so kindly.
He makes a sort of sighing sound, letting out pressurised air in a hot gust. "Everything will be, soon. Very soon." It is spookily vague enough to be foreboding, rather than reassuring.
"Forgive me, Captain, it's just that you've been acting a little… unusual…"
"Oh, have I."
She flinches when he suddenly twists to face her, her soldierly posture admirably maintained.
"You shall permit my excitement. I have… something to look forward to, you see." As a fellow Seeker, he is her mirror image in all but paint-job and limited engendered craftsmanship. But his expression is alien to her. "Things are going to change, and I'm going to be right at the head of this beautiful new beast. I shall be it's crown."
"…What does that mean, Sir?"
"You'll understand, in time. Everyone will." His optics are wild with excitement, as if burning from within. He is smiling just as intensely. At least he is not yelling, or bawling. He is known to throw tantrums when things do not go his way. "I'm out to collect my dues from the universe."
"…Does the universe owe you something, Sir?"
"It's a gift, actually."
She offers a stiff little nod. "Oh, okay, that's… nice, Sir."
"Indeed. Great things are ahead of me." He lays his palm over her pauldron, companionable, familiar. "And I shall personally ensure that my Seekers partake in these great things, through me. Just do your small part. You shall anticipate my return, in the meantime, and keep the others in line."
She salutes. "Yes, Captain!"
He assesses her closely. "This is just the start. I'll have everything I have earned, and more. I deserve this. I deserve all that's coming to me."
"Of course, Sir!" she barks back, as is appropriate, even if she is terribly concerned. "You're the greatest!"
"Indeed, I am. Finally, my greatness shall manifest, made living metal."
"…Okay, Sir!"
"It's all I've ever wanted – to be witnessed by all. You'll never look at me the same way again."
"…Sounds great, Sir?"
He leans in.
She genuinely expects he is about to kiss her.
He does not. Instead, he allows his helm to rest against hers, an intimate gesture in and of itself, not atypical among Seekers.
She is a bit disappointed.
His optics bore into hers up close, yet his gaze is somehow so faraway. "Oh, Slipstream, I…"
"…Captain?"
"…I need this. It has to work."
"Sir…" She cringes softly. "Are you feeling unwell? You're burning up." Touching his chassis with a servo.
"It's all for me. All for me. I am worthy. We will have a place in the new order. I'll save us all."
"Worthy of what, Sir? Save us from what? What's this new order?"
"My ascent! I will rise higher than the northernmost star, shine brighter than any sun. You'll see. You'll be so proud."
She feels an ache, as he breaks her Spark. "But I'm already so proud, Sir."
With a whimper, he crumples against her. "You don't get it! Nobody does, except…"
She lays her servos on his back, stroking slowly, soothingly up and down. "I just follow you, Captain. You don't need to change."
"No, no, I must. I'm not enough, for me."
"Sir…"
He pulls himself together, shuddering, hissing, retracting himself from her arms. "I shall not lead you astray. Fear not. Believe me. Believe… in me."
"I do, Sir."
"I am not enough for what's coming, not like this. I will return anew."
"Captain," she intones more firmly, now, "I'm very worried about you."
"Don't be." He stretches a little to kiss the brow of her helm.
She is certain her brain module just short-circuited. It burns her. An invisible impression of where his dermas once touched her shall remain for a long, long time.
"Just do as I say, and watch me."
She gazes softly, anxiously back at him.
"I'll have my purpose."
"…I hope it makes you happy, Sir."
He shuts his bright optics. "Ugh, bless your soft, gooey Spark." He has been miserable their entire lives. Nothing has ever been enough. "I'm certain it's a start." His optics flutter open, momentarily lucid. "Be good while I'm gone, okay? Take care of them."
"I will do my utmost for you, Captain!" She salutes.
He smiles fondly. But the smile turns sour and his optics sear over again. "Excellent. Excellent!" The lucidity fades as he turns away, staring at his reflection as he had before. "I knew, in my Spark, I was always destined for more than this. I have always known. But after my promotion, I have remained unfulfilled. Searching. My dreams seemed unreachable, until… I met him."
She knows better than to ask whom Starscream is referring to.
"He has opened my optics to the future."
She grimaces handsomely.
"Now, go. Attend to the others. When I return changed, rest assured, you will already have my favour. There's a place for obedient, reasonably competent loyalists like you, Slipstream."
"…As you wish, Captain."
He says nothing more. Just looks at himself.
The place where he kissed her is still burning once she has left his presence. It is still burning when she assembles her charges. It burns as she finds herself addressing the Seekers under her temporary command.
"He left you in charge?" Thrust manages after some prolonged staring.
"Yeah," Slipstream murmurs. "Apparently so."
Thundercracker and Nova Storm exchange a look.
"So, we gotta call you Captain and Sir and stuff?" he enquires.
"Yes."
"And do whatever you say, no matter how humiliating?" she adds beside him. "Are you going to laugh at us, Sir?"
"I'd really like to avoid that scenario."
Acid Storm nods. "Good enough for me."
"I dunno. No offence, but, uh…" Thrust folds his arms across his chassis. "This is weird. Anybody else finding this weird?"
Slipstream nods emphatically, more so than any of the others. "Oh, you're telling me. I don't even want this job."
"It'll be good for your service record," Acid Storm says mildly. "If that helps."
"No. It doesn't."
"Sorry."
"You guys know me. I'm not a leader. I'm…" Slipstream hesitates, for she does not really know. "…Very anxious about all this." There. That is what she is.
"Did he say why he chose you?" asks Acid Storm gently, their servos turning over something metallic and complicated, evidently their latest technological fixation.
"He said I'm the responsible one."
"That's true," Nova Storm intones with a raised digit. "You're always worried about somebody else. You'll blow a gasket someday."
"Thanks, I appreciate that."
"Hey! We should have a party," Thundercracker suddenly declares. "With him gone, we can do what we want!"
"As long as I permit it," Slipstream reminds them all, rather lamely.
"We don't gotta sneak out to Cube games, either!" adds Nova Storm, apparently not listening.
"Dumb game," Thrust mutters superiorly. "No wonder he hates it."
"Your face is dumb!"
"You wanna go?!"
"Enough," Slipstream snaps, in a rather big voice.
They actually all shut up at once, staring back her with shocked optics.
She deflates gradually. Maybe this Commander thing will not be so hard for her.
"Not bad," Acid Storm intones.
"Thank you."
"Aw, but you're gonna be mostly cool about this, right?" Thundercracker seems hopeful, still. "You even hang out with that cutie and her yellow grounder boyfriend all the time!"
"First order – don't use that word to describe terrestrial alt-modes. It's offensive."
"Eh, okay, Sir, but I still say we gotta party!"
"He never lets us have any fun," Acid Storm agrees with Thundercracker. "It's so unbecoming, y'know."
"Guys, be nice." Slipstream rubs her helm, right where Starscream kissed her. "Even if he's not here, you must how him respect." It is burning. Burning. "We're his Seekers."
"He sure does act like he owns us, nowadays."
"He's under pressure, okay."
"Hey, maybe the break will do him some good, then. And with him being gone, well…" Thundercracker high-fives Acid Storm. "Any excuse for a party, am I right?"
"I like parties!"
"Frag, yeah!"
"C'mon, Captain, make it your first order!"
"…You want me to order you to have fun?"
"Uh, yeah! You'd be the best Captain ever if you did!" Thundercracker grins handsomely, Nova Storm hugging his arm with hope in her optics.
"I wanna be Captain," Thrust mutters to no one. "I never get to boss anyone around, for fun or otherwise."
"You'd make an awful Captain." Acid Storm placidly fiddles with their gadget, unbothered.
"Ouch! Mean."
"Ha, you tell him, Acid!"
"I just did."
"Tell him again!"
"Very well. You would make an awful Captain, Thrust."
"Hey! Don't gang up on me!"
Slipstream looks at each one of them in turn, despairing. They are all idiots, but they are her idiots, and she has been left in charge of them.
Starscream's kiss still burns her.
I'd like to just briefly mention that there will not be any strictly evil characters in this story. Everybody has their sins, but nobody is that simple to read. Also, I am aware that standard issue servos have been depicted with four digits rather than five, but that weirds me out, so I'm ignoring that detail and referring to it as high-fiving - servos shall possess five digits henceforth, unless someone has a claw thingy, pincer, hook, tentacle, etc.