Six million years ago, During the Great War

"No please!" Starscream had crawled forward onto all fours, his belly plates scrapped against the delicate basalt tiling which peppered their new-planetary home.

"You can't kick me out! I just got here!" Starscream screeched as he was pulled away, two feather-winged cybertronian guards pulled him away from the freshly installed throne, currently occupied by the elected Winglord Sunstorm.

"You misheard me again, Starscream." Sunstorm said, his tone rooted in impatience. "Let me repeat it, so perhaps it'll stick this time."

Starscream fell silent, his optics stared at the ground as the guards at his sides held his cuffed servos outward. He was much too small and short to remain standing as the guards lifted him with ease; his legs had been clasped together, so he could no longer run amuck.

Sunstorm nodded, giving Starscream a grim look.

"Starscream as my ma-ker, I care for you, I do."

"As if! You're sending me out to die!" Starscream snarled, he was looking at every inch of Sunstorm with hideous disapproval. If he'd eye-lasers installed, he would've used them. His own son, his own creation, was killing him.

"Let me finish!" Sunstorm said, snappishly. "I'm not sending you out into exile without any resources. You keep your colonization ship, and your territorial claim of the New Vosnian moon still holds, but you aren't permitted to settle onto New Vos itself."

"But why!? I sacrificed everything for this project! I was the one who found this place! I was the one who ordered the evacuation that saved you all!" Starscream squirmed against his bindings, resembling a hapless worm as Wingstorm Sunstorm leaned forward, his servos clasped together in contemplation and his metallic-wings bristled with a palatable judgement.

"Correction: dear late-sire Skyfire found this place, not you. You merely provided the coordinates."

Skyfire.

The mention of the beloved, late explorer had been monstrously uncalled for and taboo. In Vosnian culture, superstitions surrounded the names of the dead and rarely were they spoken aloud, for fear of attracting the wrathful attention of the spoken, unchambered spark.

But as Winglord, Sunstorm held certain privileges others did not. He noted with satisfaction, how the guards at Starscream's sides squirmed, just barely, imperceptibly. They were very well aware of who Skyfire had been to Starscream and to all of the Vosnian people.

The first King of Vos.

The most respected Winglord who had ever reigned.

And now it was Sunstorm's turn to rule, his only heir and son.

At the mention of "Skyfire," Starscream became inconsolable, his optics dimmed with an unfamiliar vulnerably, a primitive meekness overcame him; his anger collapsed into a pit of despair - self-pity and confusion united into one. No longer could he upkeep his mental defenses he had grown infamous amongst his people for - like a torrent from a white-matter hole his emotions slammed into his processor without restriction - all the stress and death that had led up to that very moment chewed Starscream apart. He had never felt guilty about murder nor any of his wrongdoings before, but then mention of Skyfire had put everything into a horrible, grueling perspective.

'Skyfire would hate who I've become.' Starscream thought. 'This monster...without a spark.' He trembled with humiliation as he imagined Skyfire plucking his head from his shoulders, for his countless sins. He could only envision the spurt of energon gushing forth from his limbless body, swift proper judgement given - after every terrible action Starscream had taken since Skyfire's death.

Skyfire's death had left Starscream alone - unattended - uncontrolled.

Never in life would Skyfire have believed Starscream to be a monster.

But now.

In death.

Skyfire surely did.

Was that who he was when no one was watching?

Was that who he was when there was no one around to stop him?

A monster, he was.

Sunstorm was right.

He didn't belong on New Vos.

He had corrupted the good name of the surviving seeker-people enough.

"Starscream." Sunstorm sounded worried now, his sleek eagle-neck stretched downwards to peer at Starscream a little more closely. Never before had he seen Starscream in such emotional turmoil - it was as if an epiphany, some sort of enlightenment, had struck him viciously on the head.

Perhaps his creator did have a spark, somewhere buried inside that homicidal mind of his; perhaps, Starscream wasn't completely damned and hopeless to burn in The Pit. Despite it all, Sunstorm smiled to himself, relief flooded his tense wings and frame as he gave the order.

"Take him to Vox." And Starscream didn't speak nor struggle as he was lifted away.

It was a small moon, Vox, tinted green from copper corrosion leaking through the many pockets marring its surface. It was a bitter place, forcing Starscream to oversee New Vos in the worst way possible.

He saw, slowly but surely, as the planet before him lit up with city-lights and pollution. Energon mines went up into every nook and cranny; there was little land leftover for residential development, once the last factory had been established.

He had been invited, just that once, to join everyone in celebration on New Vos.

There could be parades and parties again, now that energon was flowing thick and plentiful.

But Starscream had refused the invitation, not wanting to set foot upon the planet, least he grew mad from knowing how beautiful it was becoming.

Without him.

In the end, Sunstorm had convinced him of his position.

He did not belong on Vos.

He was better off not touching Vos, despite his wanting, his longing.

He didn't want to know what he was missing.

Vox was home.

Vos did not exist.

Starscream pulled himself away from the window he had been ruminating against. He was in his colonial ship, a huge vessel which was the only cybertronian structure or make upon his pitiful green moon. When he had first arrived, the plan was to install a space port and eventually an orbital station around the moon - at least then he wouldn't always be so alone and bored.

Maybe he would get consistent visitors.

Maybe, even a friend.

But until then, energon production took priority first and foremost. There wasn't currently anything remarkable about the moon, except Starscream himself, of course.

So it was with surprise, and a bit of dread that Starscream saw another colonial ship land not too far away from his own.

"Frag, do they think Vox is just a parking lot!?" Fury and bile began to corrode Starscream's wiring, as he screeched and sped out of his ship's exit. Whoever the visitors were, they weren't welcome - at all - not one bit!

'Pirates, they must be raiders, some no good scavengers!' he muttered to himself, tripping backwards onto a rock, and quickly his blind fury evaporated into panic. Suddenly he felt foolish, turning tailpipe back into his ship - his common sense and survival instincts had returned.

He needed to defend himself!

He was just one bot, stuck on a pitiful moon, but Starscream had gotten out of worse situations before.

His ship's console lit up at his silent command, and the entrances all locked down with extra security gates blocking the halls. It was a blockade defense raiders would eventually get through, but at least it bought Starscream enough time to call-in reinforcements.

:"Comm to Sunstorm! Comm to Sunstorm! Help, I'm being attacked!":

"..."

"..."

The line crackled with static as the message was sent down to New Vos. He could only hope Sunstorm was close enough planet side to hear him.

"Ahh, Ma-ker? What a surprise, you never call me. You're being attacked, you say?"

"I need reinforcements at Vox, now! Some raider ship just landed and I don't exactly have heavy artillery up here!"

"A raider ship, hrmmm?" He sounded strangely smug, for such a serious situation... "It wouldn't happen to be that colonial ship I just sent over there a groon or so ago, wouldn't it?"

"Uhh...no?!" Starscream's face and wings flickered with embarrassment.

"Right, and I'm a grounder."

"Sunstorm! Why wasn't I informed of this!?" It wasn't as if the ship had asked permission before landing - of course he was going to assume the worst! He was all alone on an empty, defenseless moon!

Sunstorm sighed, "I sent you three notifications to your comm before hand, six of them to the ship's computer; but you didn't keep your communication devices on! I need them on Starscream, else we might run into this situation again! I don't want you shooting at random civilians."

"What? I've never done such a thing!"

"Yes...well...let's not talk about-"

"..."

"Click!"

"..."

Starscream shut down the call, his servos gripped the ends of the ship's console desk in a heated, humiliated fury. He placed his head against his hands and silently removed the ship's lockdown order. He stood there, glaring at his absent-reflection against pristine desk-metal, until a ping against his public comm informed him someone was standing outside his ship.

'Best get this over with,' he grumbled. He wasn't in the best mood to entertain guests, nor was he ever. He'd learned to enjoy his solitude on his castaway moon, and the thought of sharing it with others gave him a helmache; he'd have to ration his energon and supplies again, a lifestyle he had hoped was over.

"W-wait! W-what?" Starscream stumbled over his own talons when he saw just who was outside. He had fallen, but he didn't feel embarrassed, nor even a tad infuriated. No, he felt something positive for the first time in forever!

"Quasar!" Starscream was in disbelief. He called down the ship's loading bay as quickly as he could. He ran, sliding as he scooped up a small, black and white baby cybertronian into his hands - hugging the startled sparkling.

"Y-you-re alive! Alive! You're online!" Starscream could do little else as he peppered Quasar with affectionate pats and a mind-numbing shriek of joy.

"Okay." Quasar frowned, their yellow mono-optic crinkled in annoyance. "I am happy you're online too...but..." A little black hand smacked Starscream across the face, yet without excessive malice, just enough to get his attention. It wasn't as if a sparkling had the ability to hurt him.

"Put. Me. Down. NOW." Quasar hissed. For a moment it looked like Starscream had become upset, but quickly a smile peeled across his face, suspiciously so.

"Seaspray, catch!" Quasar instinctively curled into a ball, already well aware of how Starscream cherished the habit of throwing her. She didn't go far, barely a meter or two from Starscream's embrace before she barreled into Seaspray. Quasar hummed in mild annoyance, and climbed atop Seaspray's green-brassy shoulders for a better vantage point.

"Hey careful with my wings! It stings when you fling yourself over like that!" Seaspray whined, and Starscream was quick to give him a hug. He was a seeker-mechling, having reached adolescence but just barely - standing up to Starscream's chest, just tall enough to accidentally headbutt against his chin.

Clack!

"Ahh-ck, watch it!" Seaspray looked bashful as he pulled away, watching as Starscream investigated a new crack in one of his serrated teeth. "When did you get so delicate Ma-ker?" Starscream snorted, and hammered Seaspray lightly atop the helm. "Very funny. Now how did you get so tall? Last I remember, you barely reached past my lower-wings."

"Oh that? Yah, it's exciting! Shockwave is still looking for a cure in energon mixtures, so I get to play guigneous pig before any of the others dare get a sip."

Starscream's good mood ebbed away. Shockwave was around? He had mixed feelings on the matter...

"I'm happy to hear that you are testing things, studying to be a proper scientist and all - but please, do be careful."

Seaspray smiled, with a curt nod; he was the same copper patina as the Voxian moon - perhaps it was destiny that he lived upon it...

Quasar was resting her head against her brother's helm as Starscream ushered them inside. "Now you two are obviously exhausted. Make yourselves comfortable, and I'll come get you later. You probably already know where everything is since I'm certain the colonial ships are the exact same make and model." He hugged Seaspray again, and patted Quasar on the head, much to her dismay. He only stopped once he felt a presence behind him, one he didn't particularly like.

Once-upon-a-time, a green-teal and red mech had been his brother: Senator Shockwave, a proud seeker-kin, with wings and talons just like his.

But now.

Shockwave was just a shell, of what Starscream considered family.

"Ahh Shockwave. So good to see you. I was certain you'd gone offline with how long I was stationed here." Starscream's speech was clipped and stilted - his skills of charisma had waned under his long period of isolation.

Fortunately, Shockwave was a bot who wasn't easily offended, as he wasn't one for lingering conversations.

"I was certain you had perished, after impact with that Tox-En rocket," said Shockwave, with the grace of a speeding train.

"Yes, about that! Thanks for reminding me!" Starscream sneered, not hesitating to poke directly against Shockwave's optic. He stood onto the tips of his talons to stand taller than Shockwave for a few blissful, looming seconds. "How dare you leave me floating in space! I was rotting to rust from all that radiation, and you left me! LEFT ME TO DIE! I flew here, saving myself - by stupid blind luck!"

Shockwave pushed Starscream away from his optic, with the most minimal amount of force required. Like the sparklings, he also was tired.

"Oh yes. Good idea. Let me expose an entire shipful of sparklings to Tox-En. Good idea. " Shockwave clasped his single servo against Starscream's shoulder - he'd initiated physical contact, such a rarity; and the unexpected action instantly shut Starscream up, who stood, surprised, stupefied. "You've forgotten Starscream, that you agreed to be left behind. We couldn't clean you from the contamination. It would've spread across the entire ship - we would've all offlined before we made it to New Vos."

Starscream was trembling as he relived the horrible memory of drifting, lost in space. He had watched as the ship that was his salvation and home sputtered away - as if he'd never mattered at all - to Shockwave - to the sparklings - each had abandoned him.

He had watched, no, felt as energon leeched away from his charred metal, peeling off his irradiated lines into glowing black-blue pearls that he'd watched spread further and further away from him...beginning their own adventures within the inky blackness of space.

His energon had been the only way he could've possibly orientated himself into the correct direction to follow. Residual vapor-trails from the warping ship had pulled the energon into the invisible path, lighting the way to go as little dots of energy. He'd transformed, painfully, as his legs and arms failed to collapse correctly from his injuries - an arm had been crushed completely by the transformation process, mangled by it's own transmission belt strip, caught against a gear. It was the type of pain he wouldn't ever forget.

Suddenly, there was a smack against his shoulder, and Starscream was drawn out of that terrible moment. Oil-slick tears had manifested down Starscream's optics. Shockwave had been staring in detached fascination, watching how the thin metal of a face distorted when placed under emotional-pressure.

"Anyway, chat is over. I'm going to recharge now." Shockwave pulled his hand away.

"W-wait!" Starscream wiped his tears, flicking the oil away with a grumble of disgust. He leaned forward against Shockwave for balance, gripping his shoulders in a strange sudo-hug as a new panic took hold of him. "The sparklings! How many are left?!"

Shockwave again pushed Starscream away, with the most minimal amount of energy.

"All of them."