Well, he may not be Che Guevara, but seeing Starscream portrayed as a resistance leader in TRANSFORMERS ONE sure got me going. Add in one gorgeous psychopath of a former aide to the Primes and I suppose that this following end result was inevitable. Be warned that I use what you might call a Popular Mechanics approach when it comes to the intimacies of being a Transformer. If you prefer something 'messier', this won't be the story for you. I also use a minimal amount of jargon throughout. Human terms are fine with me.

I actually wrote this one specifically for the Starscream fangirls, so if that's you...enjoy!

Disclaimer: The following story is intended for non-profit entertainment purposes only and is not meant to infringe upon the rights of any Transformers copyright holders.

ERRORS IN JUDGEMENT OF THE PERSONAL KIND

Part One

It was the second worst miscalculation of his entire long life, his thinking that the big silver grounder with the yellow eyes was just a brutish oaf, the mechanical muscle of the mis-matched quartet of strangers which his warriors had captured so easily. Not a word out of him either, once brought back online. He'd just knelt there, letting the others plead for clemency, occasionally looking about, and Starscream had all but dismissed him at that point as a bot beneath further notice. But then he'd stood up. And turned his back and tried to leave.

"Hey! What are you doing!"

Although his troops had already stopped the silver bot and were forcing him to return, the affront was unforgivable. Starscream stalked down the steps to his throne to confront him, already bristling for action.

To his mild surprise, his insolent captive had a mouth on him after all. And he too held a grudge against Sentinel. Starscream didn't care about their shared grievances. He looked the silver bot over, considering options, trying to decide whether to kill him or punish him.

"You think you can insult me and just walk away?" Starscream grated. "No one leaves here unless I say so."

"Is that right?" It came out as an odd little simper, which distracted the tall flier. "Well how can you say so…with my head in your teeth."

And then the brute had made his words reality and smashed his helm into the other bot's face.

Starscream staggered back several steps, fell into an offensive stance. That single blow had escalated their confrontation into a challenge. He launched himself, using his thrusters to first startle his opponent before grabbing him and carrying him high up against the nearest wall. Fliers were at home aloft. Starscream expected the grounder to be disoriented. He pounded on the bot he'd pinned to the wall as hard as he could, his smarting mouth contorted in a snarl.

A terrific kick flung Starscream back down to the ground and the silver bot was on him before he could recover. The others in the room began pressing in, hooting and yelling with excitement. They too knew that they were now witnessing a match for dominance and it ignited their bloodlust. Starscream altered his tactics in an instant. The grounder was incredibly strong, far stronger than he'd imagined, but he was untrained, a pit fighter at best, lacking in any sort of warrior's finesse. Starscream was certain that he could use that to his advantage and make himself look better for having defeated such a powerful opponent, once he broke free and finished it.

The trick would be in breaking free. Despite being goaded, the silver bot was being swept up by the howling of the mob. He stopped whaling on Starscream and paused to regard them. Someone was yelling, "D-16!" Was that the brute's name? Just a letter/number designation? Whoever he was, he kept a firm grip on Starscream while hesitating.

"You want to see the strength of one bot over another? Huh?" he cried out angrily.

The crowd screamed its approval, more of them cheering on the silver bot by name. D-16 turned back to his downed foe and tore at his throat. Starscream, still convinced that he'd be able to free himself at an opportune moment, spat back his defiance and braced himself to absorb another tremendous blow.

Which never came. An enormous fusion cannon transformed itself out of D-16's drawn-back forearm. A hush fell over every other bot in the room. Even the owner of the newly revealed weapon seemed awed by what his body had just produced, and Starscream, to his everlasting chagrin afterwards, just lay there as D-16 slowly straightened up and away from him, too transfixed to seize his chance to escape.

D-16 smirked, turned his attention back to the High Guard leader, and put the muzzle of his new cannon to his face. Starscream saw his own death in those blazing sulphurous eyes and his spark quailed.

It was only the intervention of one of D-16's companions, speaking up to remind him that Starscream was not the enemy, which truly saved him. The defeated flier continued to lie there, limbs asprawl, wings drooping, and watched as the bot he'd initially dismissed as a brutish oaf rallied his jubilant warriors and took command.

A sudden barrage of rockets interrupted the takeover before anyone could leave the shattered ship which the High Guard had been using as their latest headquarters. The blast rent a vast new hole in the vessel's hull and rolled Starscream over and over. Those who'd been standing were sent flying. Starscream leapt to his feet as soon as he came to a stop and squinted outside. Sentinel's troops and their insane commander, Airachnid, no doubt. He bolted for a better exit and halted there, half-hidden, to stare back at those of his own forces who were already trying to regain their feet and regroup. They milled around, in disarray. What he could zee of the fighting outside was chaotic. They had no effective leader.

Starscream fought a brief skirmish with his own dutiful instincts then. He and his High Guard had fought Sentinel's personal soldiers many times in the past. His normal response to an attack would have been to rapidly assess the situation, estimate the numbers involved, and either lead the others into battle or gather them together to retreat and fight another day. But they'd never listen to him now. They'd all heard and seen him beg for mercy when D-16 had put his fusion cannon to his face, and that was all it took for him to fall from the highest to the very lowest. He'd be lucky now to claw his way back up the ranks and gain acceptance as a lieutenant.

And so Starscream fled. It was pointless to stay and fight, pointless to try and save anyone. He fled for his life, still numb with shock over what had befallen him, and was too dismayed to take proper notice of the bedlam of the battle all around him. In his dazed, weakened state, he was an easy target.

He never saw the stasis bolt coming.

to be continued...