Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

”Arachnid,” Megatron called back just before the femme was about to follow Starscream to leave to recover the missing cargo that was on board the Harbinger. “As you know, I have… grown tired of Starscream’s treachery.” Megatron spoke in a lower tone, so that the Seeker wouldn’t overhear their conversation.

Oh, this was going to be interesting, Arachnid thought. 

“I may have spared him in the mine, but after you revealed this particular detail to me, it has come to my attention that I can no longer keep him around, even if his failures do bring me a certain amusement.” The warlord’s optics brightened as he recalled Starscream’s slip-ups. “I would exterminate him myself, but it seems that I am in need of a new second in command… one would need to prove themself worthy of such a post.”

Arachnid regarded the larger mech. She knew perfectly well what Megatron was asking from her, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask for clarification.

“I would be willing to prove my loyalty to you, my lord,”she replied in a display of loyalty to fulfill whatever task her lord gave her, “providing that you tell me exactly exactly what you want with poor Starscream.”

Megatron leaned in closer to her, his faceplate inches from her own. “I want his spark brought to me,” he growled. “fulfill that task, and you will be my loyal second in command of the Decipticon army.”

“It will be done, my liege,” she responded, a cruel smile playing on her lips as Megatron drew himself up to his full height.

.+*+.

Starscream did not like going on this mission with Arachnid. Not one bit. He hated the femme acting like she was higher ranking than he was. He hated the narrow hallways and hated being underground, where Starscream had a significant disadvantage if he were to try to squash the pesky spider once and for all. 

The thought of snuffing Arachnid’s spark how he snuffed Cliffjumper’s would be all too satisfying, but he was in no condition to do so. Currently, Arachnid was Megatron’s favorite, but he would love to see her fail to retrieve this weapon and get a lesson from Megatron. The Seeker resisted the urge to flutter his wings in giddy excitement at the thought of Arachnid’s frame to be mangled and torn, for her energon to be spilt as she pleaded for mercy as Starscream had many times before. 

But everything had to go as planned first. 

So, for now, Starscream unwittingly followed that bitch ( he silently thanked Knock Out for broadening his vulgarity; while he may despise the humans, their swearing had a certain ring to it) through the much smaller hallways of the Harbinger.  If he could just somehow dispose of her and find the Primus-damned weapon that his master seemed to so greatly desire, he could gain his rightful place at Lord Megatron’s side — the perfect place from which to sink his claws into his master’s spark. 

“Do you even know where you’re going?” He snapped when they passed the same busted wall for the 4th time. 

“Of course not,” she retaliated, “that’s why Lord Megatron made you my guide.”

He growled in response; if she didn’t stop bringing that up, he wouldn’t hold back and he would tear out her spark, Megatron’s wishes be damned. 

The mere thought of Arachnid’s still pulsing spark and covered in energon as he watched the lights dim sent Starscream back to some very pleasant daydreams that all ended with Arachnid dead or in pain. 

“Starscream,” the cool voice of Arachnid interrupted his delightfully violent schemes and musings. “As you might be aware, Megatron has sent us here on a mission. But, what he didn’t tell you is that our lord is looking for a replacement. Something about how he was getting tired of your betrayal and schemes.” 

“ What ?!” He screeched as he wheeled around to face the femme. “Like you would be any better! I bet you’re planning to terminate Megatron the second you get a chance!” Starscream didn't bother trying to quell the rage from brightening the glowing blood-red hue of his optics, nor did he stop it from his wings from flaring in warning. 

“I may have betrayed our lord’s trust in the past ,” he snarled, the almost feral noise loudly echoing throughout the rock and the metal, “but, need I remind you, that I have spent a millenia working to destroy the Autobots to much success and have proven that am highly more qualified than you are to being Megatron’s second! He can't just replace me with you after a few days and practically nothing to show for your leadership!” 

“Oh, was it proving your leadership qualities then that caused you to rip the dark energon from Lord Megatron’s spark? Please, enlighten me, Starscream. I’m confused as to how that was a loyal act.”

“He told you about that too?!” he screamed, reeling back. Was there anything that Megatron hadn’t told her?!

“Like I said, we talk. And even though Megatron showed you mercy before, I am not so forgiving, and our lord knows this, so he has bestowed upon me a mission that only I will return from.”

The Seeker’s spark began to beat wildly in his chest as he tried to make sense of all this. Surely Megatron hadn’t sent Arachnid out to this place so that his spark might be snuffed out? But as the femme continued to approach him in the cramped space, the pieces fell into place and the realization dawned on him that Arachnid wasn’t lying to just try to make Starscream look like a scared, cowardly fool.

To say that he was pissed off was an understatement — he was wrathful. Arachnid just shows up out of the blue one day and suddenly she’s walking around the Nemesis like she owns the place. And Megatron was just letting her . If Starscream were to walk around those same halls (the halls that he actually knew his way around in) with the same cockiness, he would be beaten into scrap for acting like he was in charge. (Which he should be, thank you very much).

“Theres no escape, Starscream,” she crooned. 

Yes, there was, and it was an escape that had the most satisfying ending — an escape that ended with Arachnid’s energon coating his talons. 

He knew damn well that the odds were in Arachnid’s favor; he may be prideful, but he wasn’t moronic enough to use his missiles and blasters in such cramped spaces underground. This left him his talons — which happened to be very good at creating puncture wounds into pests. 

“Is that what you think, Arachnid?” He snarled, launching into an attack.

He managed to get one good scratch in, the warm, glorious energon that spilled onto his talons sating just a hint of the violence that he wanted to inflict on her. 

The bitch hissed in pain; the sound was sweet music to Starscream’s audials. 

He made another lunge, desperate to sink his talons into her frame before the upper hand that Arachnid held was fully realized.

She dodged the attack and raked the razor sharp point of her spider pedes into long strips along his wings. 

Starscream definitely did not screech in pain from the acid eating away at the already sensitive metal.

His wings were his pride and joy — and happened to give him a significant advantage in arial fights, but even he had to admit that his wings were not an advantage here: they were a definite disadvantage.

His wings were constantly throwing off balance as he struggled to dodge Arachnid’s attacks. If that wasn't bad enough, his wings were great targets to go for, even when he kept them pressed to his back — they were large and they were delicate.

He focused all pain that he felt into energy to make another attempt on her, but she dodged again. And again. And again. 

By the Pits, why was she so difficult to end?!

Stasrcscream had only managed to get a few good scraps in, but he was absolutely littered with cuts that burned and hissed with that acid. 

He pounced again, ignoring the warnings that popped in his HUD and the pain that flared throughout his frame. 

There is no way that she’s going to return to the Nemesis and usurp my place. Starscream snarled and narrowed his optics as he lashed out in more and more desperate and vicious attacks. 

A white ball of webbing ensnared Starscream’s servos.

  Frag it , he swore internally; in his increasing desperation to cause as much damage as possible, he had become careless.  

So be it, he thought, quickly regaining his composure and attacking once more before Arachnid could gain an even greater advantage. I’ll use my dente to rip out her spark if I have to . 

She shot again, this time aiming for his heels, and he tripped falling hard onto the metal surface, a clang resounding throughout the space. 

If tripping and falling on his aft wasn’t embarrassing enough, he felt something in his right leg snap that definitely shouldn’t have. 

“ As much fun as that was,” Arachnid said smugly, drawing herself back and  raising the point of her pede, “I think we both know how this ends.”

The needle point of her freaky pedes plunged — but not for his spark. 

”But I like to play with my victims first.”

It once again carved into his wing, and fine, maybe he did screech in pain that time. 

The already injured Seeker tried to keep track of the time, but gave up when his voice box began to glitch out from his screaming, snarls, and threats that he hurled at Arachnid. 

“Does it hurt Starscream?” She crooned, gripping his faceplates so harshly that he felt more energon leak out. 

Lubricant pricked at his optics, and he for sure as frag wasn’t going to cry.

No. That was what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t growl let alone speak with the condition that his voicebox was currently in. Instead, to his horror, a single tear rolled down his faceplates, mingling with the glow of his spilt energon.

And oh Primus , there was so much energon. So much so that the hall was now bathed in the blue gleam.

“Interesting,” Arachnid jeered, a sickly sweet smile painted on her face plates, “But unfortunately this little play date has to end.”

With a hiss, Arachnid raised the point once again: “And it ends with your dark spark chamber delivered to Lord Megatron.”

He screwed his optics shut.

Please, Primus, make it quick. 

A volley of blaster fire rang out.

What idiot would be stupid enough to use blasters down here?!

“ARACHNID!” a femme’s voice roared. 

He managed to see a small blur of silver blue and pink tackle Arachnid, sending her legs flailing before she flipped around and righter herself. 

He tried to get a better view of his “savior,” but a throbbing helm ache, countless messages littering his HUD, and his blurring vision rendered him usless. He heard the other femme bellow in rage again, and he realized just whose voice it belonged to.

Autobots.

It was the last thing he could remember before falling unconscious.

.+*+.

Before Optimus could chase after Arcee to make sure she didn’t get herself offlined, he heard a concerned beep from Bumblebee, who was kneeling over the prone, bleeding form of a certain Seeker.

“ Should we leave him here?” Bee chirped at his leader, taking a pulse of the Decipticon.

Optimus paused, looking at the ghastly form of the Decepticon First Lieutenant.

“I’m telling you, Optimus,” the voice of Elita One echoed through his helm, “Starscream’s changed. I know that you were once close with Megatron, but he’s done something to him to act like this. The Starscream I knew didn’t flee, in fact he guarded Vos and Sentinel fiercely.”

Starscream had certainly caused them a lot of trouble, and Optimus wondered if he even played a role in the death of Cliffjumper — he had been in charge while Megatron was off-world after all. But, Optimus knew that Starscream would certainly be an asset in winning the war. he was, or had been, second in command, and based off the fatal wounds and the presence of Arachnid, Starscream might be willing to help bring about their downfall as an act of revenge.

Oh Primus, how he missed his conjux.

“Bulkhead, Bumblebee, follow Arcee and provide her with back up. I will comm Ratchet to bring Starscream back to base.”

The two other mechs shared an uneasy look, but then nodded and carried out their leader’s orders. 

“Ratchet, I need a ground bridge at my coordinates. Prepare the medbay for emergency care,” the Autobot leader commed, carefully scooping up the injured Seeker, taking notice as the prisoner unconsciously nestled in ever-so-slightly to the warm frame of the larger mech. 

He shifted Starscream slightly in his arms, trying to not aggravate any of the wounds when a groundbridge appeared beside him.

“Optimus,” the older medic yelled in alarm and shock as the Prime exited the swirling rush of green and purple. “You brought Starscream to our base?! You do know that this could be a trap, don’t you?!”

“The thought has occurred to me, but….”

“But what, Optimus?! What could possibly make you bring Starscream here so that he can wreak havoc upon us and the children?!”

”Ratchet, Starscream needs medical attention.” While he understood the doubts that Ratchet, and frankly, the rest of the team, held in regards to bringing the Decepticon here, Starscream needed to be stabilized before this conversation could be had.

”Fine, fine, I’ll patch Starscream up.” His voice still had an edge to it as he gestured his servos wildly. “But I will do it for your sake, not his.”

“Thank you, old friend.”

He carefully laid Starscream on the medical berth that Ratchet had prepared, his attuned audials not missing the small whimper let out by the flier when he left the warmth of Optimus’s frame. 

“I know you have hang ups about Starscream being here, Ratchet. Further, I know that this war has made us all doubtful and jaded, but we are no better than Megatron if we refuse to help those in need — Decepticon or Autobot.” He sighed, then added “Elita would have helped him too.”

“Oh, Optimus.” Ratchet’s optics widened in realization and the edge in his voice softened slightly. “I know you miss her, but you can’t just allow the Decepticon Second in Command to stay in our base because Elita would have helped Starscream.

“Ratchet, you know as well as I that Elita and Starscream knew each other. They were friends before the war.”

”And Starscream chose to betray that friendship when he chose to follow Megatron.” The edge was back, Optimus noticed, as he wiped off the drying energon from his frame while Ratchet was busy hooking Starscream to life support.

”Every sentient being deserves a second chance.”

Ratchet grumbled, and Optimus heard a few swears — both human and Cybertronian — aimed at him, but then Ratchet sighed. “I hope you’re right about this.”

As do I, Optimus thought as he watched Ratchet begin the process of assessing the damage done to Starscream when a comm from Bulkhead came through.

“Arachnid got away. Requesting a groundbridge.”

“I’ve got it, old friend. You focus on tending to our prisoner,” he stated as he opened the groundbridge to the coordinates provided by the rest of the group. He would need to discuss Arcee’s actions out in the field.

“I could have gotten her if you hadn’t held me back!” Arcee yelled over the loud roar of the ground bridge as they returned.

“What? Up in the air, ‘Cee? You may be good, but you’re not a flying frame,” Bulkhead scoffed, shaking his head.

“I could have managed,” she growled, not bothering to stop her EM field from sizzling in frustration.

“Arcee, Bulkhead is right. It was foolish of you to engage the enemy alone, and I know you know better than that. Revenge will not bring back those you have lost,” Optimus told the angry two wheeler. 

She glared at him before giving a “yes sir,” and muttering something about needing to be left alone as she headed back to her room.

“ Primus,” Bumblebee gasped , “What did she do to Starscream?” His wide optics focused on the injured mech, the injuries finally easier to make out the gruesome extent in the garnish lighting of the base.

Optimus’s shoulders sagged ever so slightly, but not enough for his soldiers to notice. He should have known that Bumblebee would be the most sympathetic. The look of terror in the young scout’s eyes and his tightly held frame as the sparkling beheld the dented and energon covered frame of the Seeker was reminiscent of that look of terror when the scout realized that his voice box would never work the same way again.

Even though it was Arachnid to injure Starscream like this, Optimus was sure that Bumblee was having flashbacks to that day at Tyger Pax. 

A bot as young as Bumblebee shouldn’t have to know the horrors of war, Optimus thought, spark heavy within his chassis.

If his spark ache wasn’t bad enough, Optimus recalled one of the many conversations that he had with Elita in regards to the S.i.C. Based off of the concern that Elita had expressed to him so long ago, he began to wonder if Starscream and Bumblebee had both been victimized at the servos of Megatron.

“He may be in critical condition, but he’ll be fine,” Ratchet dismissed with a casual wave of the  servo, bringing both the scout and the Prime back to the preset day, before adding in a low grumble, “unfortunately.”

.+*+.

Her teammates’ voices echoed around in Arcee’s processor. She felt the overwhelming urge to scream, punch the rock walls of their base, to kick, to just anything to feel like she was making progress in advenging not one but two partners’ death. But for now, she settled for clenching her servos as hard as possible. She could lock away her feelings before completely wrecking her hab. 

The others just didn’t get it, she thought selfishly, clenching her servos so tightly that her digits drew energon from the delicate mesh. 

Within the more rational part of her processor (the bit that seemed to have taken a back seat as of late) knew that they all had their own various traumas from the war, but no one had lost two partners. 

She knew, based mostly off of old stories from Ratchet, that Optimus had a conjux, but Arcee hardly knew anything about her, for she died before the two wheeler joined Team Prime. And Optimus hardly ever mentioned his long-gone sparkmate. 

You may be good, Arcee, but you’re not a flying frame.

But there was a seeker that was in critical condition that was being kept in their base. A Seeker that had nearly been scrapped by the same bot who had scrapped Tailgate. A Seeker that also likely knew who killed her sparkmate. 

Maybe taking Starscream in wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

Chapter Text

Starscream floated in and out of consciousness for what felt like hours, finally awoken by an annoying, incessant beeping and the pounding from his own helm. Seriously, where were Knock Out’s “Taylor Swift” songs when he actually needed them to muffle that horrid beeping that came from the life support?

Wait — no human pop music.

Which meant either Megatron finally banned Knock Out from listening to the humans’ vile music (an unlikely course of action, given that the only reason why Starscream didn’t ban it himself was because he genuinely feared that Knock Out would defect to the Autobots if that happened),or that Starscream was not on the Nemesis. 

Starscream tried to calm his rapid sparkbeat as he tried to rationalize why he didn’t hear that wretched noise that the humans — and Knockout — called music. Now that the pounding had subsided slightly, he realized that the distinct sound of a buffer was also missing. Maybe Knockout was just out getting his daily energon ration (though Knockout could have just had Breakdown fetch it for him — the grounder rarely left Starscream unattended when he was on life support). 

Or perhaps it was the off cycle and the doctor and his assistant were getting recharge (though he knew full well they took shifts watching over their commander when Megatron had beaten him badly enough).

Finally, Starscream got over his stupid, irrational fears (Knockout and Breakdown were the closest things he had to friends — even if that title was a stretch —  so surely they wouldn’t leave him alone after a nearly fatal beating) and opened his optics.

Which was a big mistake on two accounts.

One: Starscrem’s once pounding headache was now splitting , and…

Two: he for sure as the Pits was not on the warship . 

That’s when his lagging processor seemed to finally get caught up with his present, er… well… predicament .

The mission. The Harbinger . Arachnid. The fight. Arachnid’s leg raised, ready to spear his spark. 

Were his injuries really so extensive that it warranted the Autobots bringing him back to their base?!

“For Primus’s sake, Starscream, calm down ,” a reddish-orange and white blob that Starscream assumed belonged to the Autobot’s medic (Ratchet, was it?) shouted when Starscream attempted to sit up, causing his helm to throb more.

The mad doctor forced the struggling mech to the berth before he burst, “Do you even know how long it took for me to stabilize your condition and fix your leg?! I will not have you undoing all of my hard work the instant that you wake up!”

Starscream moved to lash out with his claws — only to discover that his talons were cuffed to the berth. 

Starscream growled at the cuffs, bared his fangs, and glared at the blurry outline of the medic before resetting his vocalizer. 

“Maybe I could ‘calm down’ if I wasn’t cuffed and being held captive by my enemies!” He snarled, optics finally seeming to adjust themselves, allowing for him to clearly see the Autobot symbol emblazoned on the medic’s chassis. 

“What? You want us to let you go so Megatron can scrap you again?” The orange and white Autobot asked, raising an optical ridge. “Surely, you’re smarter than that, or was Soundwave the only one with a processor in the Decepticon ranks?”

Starscream blinked his optics rapidly, choosing to ignore the insult, because how in the name of Primus did they figure out that Megatron had attempted to have him terminated twice now?!

“Arcee told us about what she saw in the mines,” a new, deep voice stated, as if reading Starscream’s thoughts. Starscream relented and stopped trying to claw his cuffs off of him as he glared at the Prime who nearly took up the entire entrance to the sorry excuse for a medical center. 

Perhaps he could take the old medic in a fight, but not the 18-wheeler Prime. Especially not when his entire frame ached.

“And while in-fighting in the Decepticon ranks seems more common, based on Arcee’s testimony about the mines, Megatron sent Arachnid to terminate you as well two days ago. Is that correct?” Prime asked the flier. 

Starscream regarded Optimus, optics flickering as he thought about his next move. He could try to fight his way out, but that wasn’t the best option, considering that not only was he in agony , his captives had likely offlined his weapons’s systems. On top of that, his claws were dented and dulled from his fight with Arachnid and his futile attempts to free himself.  

“Yes, that is correct,” he admitted, doing his best to lower his wings and make his optics look bigger, hoping that these soft sparks would at the very least not scrap him if he looked pitiful enough. 

“Having no faction in a war is a dangerous thing, as you would know Starscream.”

“I am perfectly aware of that Prime,” he spat, “but considering that this is a war , I will take my chances.”

”Not being aligned with a faction is more dangerous than you think. You will not have access to a medic out on your own, as well as energon,” the Prime replied, crouching besides Starscream’s berth. “In addition to that, you will not have any protection when Megatron discovers that he has failed to terminate you a second time.”

Starscream struggled to not tremble at the mech’s name as he growled, “What are you getting at, exactly?”

“Oh come on Starscream, use your processor!” The medic spat from where he stood by the computers. 

“What Ratchet is trying to say,” Prime interjected, cutting off the biting remark that was on Starscream’s vocalizer, “is that maybe you would consider an alliance with us.”

Starscream did a double take and replayed the audio clip multiple times to ensure that the doctor hadn’t somehow managed to frag up his audio receptors. 

“You want me to join Team Prime ?!” The silver seeker nearly yelled, in disbelief.

“Yes, Starscream, I do, you would make a valuable ally to us.”

The fact that the Prime not only entertained this completely absurd idea revolted Starscream, and the fact that he proposed joining his team as a viable option was almost enough to send Starscream into hysterics. 

But… then again, what else was Starscream to do?

It wasn’t like Megatron was going to let him back on the Nemesis , even if he somehow managed to get in his master’s good graces with Autobot intel. In fact, Megatron would probably steal the data straight out from his former second’s processor and immediately kill him after. 

And even though Megatron had ensured that his lieutenant could run off of vapors for weeks — possibly even months at a time — Starscream would really rather not spend his time scavenging for energon scraps without a means of processing it. 

Besides, if Megatron couldn’t seem to appreciate his talents, why not join the one that Megatron so greatly loathed?

“I accept your offer, Optimus Prime.”

Ratchet swore under his vents and to the seeker’s shock, released the bindings that were keeping his servos strapped to the berth. 

“Seriously!” Starscream squawked when his talons were roughly shoved into a pair of normal cuffs. “Maintaining these claws is not as easy as it looks! Can you at least try to be more careful with them?!”

”And can you at least try to show us a little more gratitude for saving your aft?”

The seeker glared at Ratchet before he sighed, did his best to put on what was hopefully a disarming grin and said, “Of course, doctor.”

The doctor just sighed and rolled his optics before muttering something about a “bad idea” before fixing the cables and tubes that had been dislodged in their scuffle earlier. 

A massive servo was laid upon Starscream’s pauldron causing him to startle.

Not that he showed it.

Well, showed it a lot.

“I am glad that you have decided to stay with us, Starscream,” the massive mech said. “Any information on Megatron’s plans will be crucial in ending this war.”

“Ah! Of course, Prime!” Starscream said, fluttering his wings. It was nice to not have them trapped between his frame and the berth. 

“In fact,” he continued, “While Megatron has control over the majority of the energon deposits, there were a handful found by yours truly that I deemed too small or unstable for the war effort, and thus, were never logged into the Nemesis database.”

The seeker chose to omit the fact that he hadn’t logged them in case Megatron decided to starve him again. 

The grumpy medic muttered more curses aimed both at the now ex-Con and Optimus, and Starscream wondered why the Prime wasn’t reprimanding him for so blatantly disrespecting his authority. Megatron would have never allowed for such mutiny. 

And… if Starscream was actually being honest with himself for once in his function, he wouldn’t have let even Knockout cuss him out like that. 

Autobots were weird. 

“Now that you’re finally awake, I can run some tests on you,” Ratchet said, hooking more wires into Starscream’s frame — as if he didn’t already have enough that were supplying energon and keeping track of his vitals. “Optimus, I would like for you to stay, in case I need help with Starscream.”

“Of course, old friend.”

”Now, Starscream,” the medic started after he had finished hurling even more swears at the ‘rudimentary’ technology, “Does everything feel properly aligned?”

Starscream bit back some names that he would very much like to call the doctor as he glared at the doctor like he was some sort of scraplett. This was literally his job; shouldn’t he already know?

”What Ratchet is trying to say,” Optimus began to explain, trying to prevent another scuffle from breaking out between the two of them, “is that he is not familiar with your frame type, and we need to know whether or not everything is healing properly.”

“Everything hurts,” he pouted, doing his best to cross his arms despite the cuffs, then realized that if he was really going to join, and consequently, live with the Autobots, he should at least try to be nicer to them. They could have left him for dead, after all. “But I suppose that nothing feels out of place.”

Ratchet nodded, entered something onto a data pad, then made Starscream go through several simple movements that really shouldn’t have hurt as much as they did. 

It wasn’t anything that he couldn’t handle — Megatron had seen to that. 

“You could have at least offlined my pain receptors while I was in stasis,” he hissed, clenching his fists and arching his back in pain while Ratchet contracted and extended his broken right leg to ensure that everything had been welded correctly. 

“I had a similar thought, but I don’t want all of my hard work on repairing your extensive injuries wasted because you couldn’t tell if there was something wrong.”

The Decepticon — well, now former Decepticon Starscream guessed — suppressed a groan. He missed Knockout — well, more like he missed the fact that the doctor already knew his frame type well, even if it was likely that the Aston Martin had his medical license revoked — or even had one in the first place. 

“We apologize for any pain that you feel,” Optimus added. 

They were apologizing ?! To him ?! He had scarcely been an Autobot for half an hour! It was just a few days ago that he was fantasizing how he could snuff their sparks like he had done so to Cliffjumper’s.

Realization hit him like Megatron’s fist into Starscream’s frame. 

The Autobots didn’t know that he was the one to kill Cliffjumper. 

And they never would.

At least, not if Starscream could help it; he had bragged to everyone on the Nemesis about how he had been the first in years to be the one to extinguish an Autobot spark. The last thing he needed was someone like Arachnid to reveal this little secret and have this whole thing blow up in his face.

“Everything seems to be in working order,” the old medic announced, deactivating his scanner and drawing back before adding, “But you will be on bed rest for at least a week.”

Starscream breathed a thanks to Primus as he let out a vent that he hadn’t realized that he had been holding. This was a very welcome change of pace from his almost never ending bad luck streak. 

He smiled ruefully to himself as he pictured Arachnid’s faceplates when she realized that she not only failed in terminating Starscream, but also failed to prevent him from making a full recovery. Bed rest under the mad doctor’s rule was certainly preferable to joining the Well or never being able to fly again.

Before the flier could offline his optics and ignore the others, a data pad and pain blocking drives for his wrist ports were handed to him. 

Starscream grimaced as his red optics quickly scanned the title displayed on the blue glow of the screen.  

The Autobot Code .

Fan-fragging-tastic.  

Homework. 

.+*+.

Arachnid waltzed into the bridge of the Nemesis , Immobilizer in hand.

Snuffing Starscream’s spark had been one of the most gratifying things she had ever done.Well, perhaps a close second to making Arcee suffer so by snuffing Tailgate’s spark. 

The smile still had yet to leave her lips even as she knelt before her master, presenting him with the Immobilizer. 

“Well done, Arachnid. It would seem that you are well on your way to being a far more successful second than Starscream,” Megatron said, servos folded behind his back as he surveyed the prize that Arachnid had claimed. 

“Not that hard when Starscream’s standards for a First Lieutenant are so low that they’re buried in the ground.”

Megatron chuckled ruefully. “I suppose that is so, but that means that you would do well to greatly surpass Starscream in your new position.”

“Of course, my lord,” she replied, drawing herself up to her full height. “But, as your new loyal second, I believe that I may need extra protection from the Autobots, who will undoubtedly strengthen their efforts to capture me for delicate Decepticon information.”

Megatron raised an optical ridge before saying: “Very well, you may take the Immobilizer for your protection.”

“You are a gracious master,” she thanked as she turned to leave as Megatron turned to look out the warship’s viewport. 

Chapter Text

Despite Optimus telling the team that no one was to interact with Starscream before getting approval from him, Arcee couldn’t help but glance at the hastily set up metal wall that was keeping the med bay — and Starscream — from the rest of the main room. She hadn’t stopped glancing at the wall ever since Optimus had told them that Starscream had chosen to ally with them, plagued with the thought of convincing him to join her in the killing of Arachnid.

It shouldn’t be too difficult. Starscream was as proud as the devil, and from what she had heard from Bee, Arachnid had done a pretty good job of fucking up Starscream’s wings. But she still needed to play her cards right; it didn't take a genius like Raf to know that Starscream was incredibly volatile.

It also didn’t take a genius to know that Starscream had done some… questionable acts, to say the least. For the time being, Arcee was willing to look past it if it meant the difference between Arachnid walking free on her eight legs or not.

It wasn't until Starscream had been on base for a few days that Arcee was permitted to meet the former Decepticon as an ally and not as an enemy.

“Arcee, the others and I will be going to go investigate the coordinates provided by Starscream,” the Prime said, walking towards the small blue and pink femme.

“Great, when do we roll out?”

“You misunderstand. I would like for you to introduce yourself to Starscream and keep an optic on him while the rest of us are gone.Ratchet is working in his lab, so he will be unable to be on guard.”

“Ratchet’s griping finally got to you, didn’t it?” She asked, trying to hide her eagerness at the prospect of meeting the former ‘Con as an ally.

“You could say that,” Optimus conceded, “but given Bulkhead’s less than warm reception of Starscream here on base, it would be best for Bulkhead to join Bumblebee and I.”

That tracked; Optimus wouldn’t want Bee around the former ‘Con and Bulkhead was still understandably furious about what happened in the caves.

But Bulkhead didn’t have a partner that was murdered in cold blood by Arachnid.

_____________

Bloody reds and oranges streamed into the lab, bathing it in a fiery glow. Starscream sat in a chair that Skyfire had provided him, too engrossed in his plans to usurp Megatron to pay much attention to what his lab partner was doing. He was reviewing the data from the most recent trial run for the cure for the cybonic plague, a planned bioweapon for use against the Autobots. After all, something so uncontrollable as a virus could easily impact Decepticon troops, and in such an event, a cure would be necessary.

Starscream may have once had more interest in science, but it was an interest that had been fostered in great part by Skyfire. The two had been good friends at the academy, but as Skyfire’s studies in virology advanced further and Starscream’s seeker training consumed more of his time, their paths had diverged.

It wasn’t until after Skywarp’s death that the two had reconnected because Thundercracker blamed Starscream for their brother’s death; accusing him of not sufficiently covering them as their trine leader. That, and the normally easy-going mech accused Starscream of abandoning their trine in favor of playing bodyguard for Sentinel Prime. So, needless to say, Skyfire was the only tolerable mech on the warship that didn’t also despise the second in command.

Plus, it was kind of nice to reconnect with the mech that was the sole reason for Starscream passing the basic science classes with the same flying colors as his other courses.

“Hey Star?” The shuttle asked the lithe jet, raising a test tube for Starscream to pretend to inspect so the pair could talk without alerting Soundwave.

It was a necessary measure, especially since Megatron tended to view any out of context babble as treachery, even though Starscream was in fact planning to usurp the warlord.

“Yes?” He replied, only pausing from reviewing his plans to glance up at his massive friend.

“Do you ever think about whether or not we’re on the right side?”

Even though Skyfire had barely whispered the question, it was still far too loud for Starscream’s comfort.

“Are your circuits fried like Blitzwing’s?!” He hissed, whipping his helm around the room, as though he expected to see Soundwave or one of his cassettes lurking in the corner. “You already know how Megatron reacts to failure, let alone treachery! If Soundwave hears you talking like that, you’ll be scrap metal in seconds!”

“But that’s my point!” Skyfire retorted, “Megatron beats you; haven—“

“So?!” Starscream cut off, “he’s a gladiator — it’s the only way that he knows how to resolve conflict.”

“He doesn’t beat anyone else,” the scientist said softly, optical ridges furrowing in concern.

the Air Commander sputtered before whispering, “It doesn’t matter! When I take over and make you my secon—”

“Now look who’s spewing treachery,” Skyfire interrupted with a scoff.

Starscream snapped his intake shut and glared up at the massive white mech before snapping in a hushed tone: “We’re done talking about this. Megatron will have both of our helms if he hears of this.”

“Star…”

“I said,” he growled, “we’re done talking.”

Skyfire sighed, his massive shoulders slumping as he shuttered his optics.

“I just don’t want you getting hurt,” he whispered softly.

Starscream heard his friend but kept his optics fixed on his data pad, a stony expression engraved into his face-plates as he ignored his friend — both for his sake and Skyfire’s, even though he wasn’t sure exactly what his friend was trying to say.

________________

After re-reading the same line for what felt like the one-hundredth time, Starscream was ready to throw the datapad at the nearest wall and call quits on this “alliance,” which was everything but in name joining Team Prime. With a growl, Starscream shoved the soft-sparked drivel to the far side of his berth, deciding that it would be best not to destroy any of the Autobots’ things if he wanted to keep receiving medical care and energon.

The only reason the silver mech hadn’t already destroyed the datapad was because his claws were far too dull to inflict any real damage, and the repulsive, soft-sparked nonsense was the only thing helping to repress those memories of Skyfire and Elita.

He had done what he had done and there was no way that Starscream could go back to fix the past, no matter how much or how often that he wished he could.

All he could do now was hope that his friends were somehow aware that Starscream had taken their advice, even if it came after millennia of war and spilt energon.

Heavy pedesteps approaching the medbay sent a jolt of panic and dread through the Seeker, and his wings instinctively pressed themselves against his back. It took him an embarrassingly long amount of time to remind himself that the warm neutral, rocky walls couldn’t possibly be the dark purple interior of the Nemesis. Those heavy pedefalls belonged to Optimus and not Megatron.

He only managed to calm his racing sparkbeat and raise his still trembling wings just as the Prime entered the med-bay, followed by the femme called Arcee. He almost sighed in relief at the prospect of conversation with someone other than Ratchet. The grumpy medic had made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want to engage in small talk with a former Decepticon.

Talk with Optimus wasn’t completely abhorrent, but conversations with him were few and far between considering that the Prime was usually held up with the rest of his team.

“As you probably already know, this is Arcee,” Optimus told him, gesturing to the blue and pink femme that managed to tackle Arachnid off of Starscream before she had the chance to spear his spark.

Maybe he should thank the two-wheeler.

He almost gagged despite himself. Not even a whole week spent with the Autobots, and he was already considering thanking someone.

He settled on nodding at Arcee who returned his greeting.

“She will be keeping an eye on you while the rest of us are investigating the energon coordinates,” Prime explained, and the former Air Commander nearly rolled his optics; yes, he was still new to this whole Autobot thing but that didn’t warrant him being treated like a sparkling, especially when he couldn’t even walk.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be good,” he told the Prime smoothly, hiking his wings higher on his back as he straightened his abysmal posture. It couldn't hurt to stay on the Prime’s good side — every leader had their own ways of keeping their subordinates loyal to them, and Starscream wasn’t in the mood to discover how Optimus kept his troops in line.

Prime nodded and left, even though he had an uneasy look on his faceplates that Starscream could hardly blame him for.

“You know you don’t have to read the whole thing right?” Arcee asked, raising an optical ridge that was far too judging in Starscream’s opinion as she nodded her head towards the datapad which still displayed the text.

“Yes,” he replied as he stretched out on his berth, testing the pain in his injured leg. “But unfortunately there isn’t much else for me to do.”

“I figured that you would have been bored out of your processor by now,” she stated with a smug look that struck an uncanny resemblance to Elita’s when she teased him way back before the War.

“How very observant of you.”

“Well, you weren’t complaining about me being ‘observant’ when I stopped Arachnid from scrapping you,” she snapped, placing a servo on her hip.

“If you start saying that I owe you a life debt, then forget it.”

“I wasn’t thinking of a life debt,” she started, shifting on her pedes as she crossed her arms. “...But we do share a common goal.”

Starscream raised an optical ridge as he regarded the femme.

“And what exactly would that be?” He asked.

If this were some ploy to make him look bad in front of Prime and to get him kicked out, he would have no issue throwing the femme under the bus.

“Ripping Arachnid’s spark out right in front of her eyes,” she growled, optics narrowing even as they seemed to glitter at the thought of ending the spider in such a painful way.

Now that was something that Starscream could get behind.

“Oh, do tell me…. Whatever did Arachnid do to warrant your wrath?” he asked in a silky voice, knowing damn well that it wouldn’t take much for him to possibly hate Arachnid more.

“She scrapped my partner, Tailgate,” she explained with a growl in the back of her vocalizer, “And she tried to add Jack to her ‘collection.’”

Her tensed frame and the steely look of rage in her optics was nearly enough to send a chill through Starscream’s struts. Almost.

Tailgate’s death was something that Starscream remembered well, even only if it was because Arachnid bragged of it with the same love that she used when talking about her “collection.” He also remembered all too well the way that Megatron pressured Starscream for similar results, which more often than not ended with dents in his frame and his energon on the floor of the Nemesis.

“Uhg, I remember that collection,” he said with a grimace, forcing the unwelcome memories from his neural net. “Even Knockout hated it, and that’s saying something.”

He flexed his claws within the confines of his cuffs, picturing them wrapping around .

If only his claws weren’t so dull.

_______________

Arcee watched as Starscream flexed his servos, and for once she didn't have to wonder what was going through the mech’s twisted mind. Making Arachnid feel as hopeless as she was when she watched Arachnid’s legs spear Tailgate’s spark, energon splattering the walls of her prison, would only be the beginning of what that horrible femme deserved.

A glint reflecting from one of the dark gray claws caught Arcee’s attention. His claws were so scuffed, dented, and dulled that the two-wheeler was surprised that Ratchet hadn’t at least tried to buff the sharper edges so that Starscream wouldn’t accidentally harm himself. Or at the very least, ruin something in the medbay.

“Those claws aren’t going to do much to Arachnid,” she said with a scoff.

“Don’t you think that I’m perfectly aware of that?” Starscream retorted with a low growl in the back of his vocalizer, glaring at Arcee with crimson optics.

“Of course,” she said, crossing her arms, “Unless you want me to actually think that you’re stupid.”

The seeker growled and bared his fangs as his wings angled back like an earth animal that Jack called a ‘cat’ did when it was extremely pissed off.

“Well maybe you could actually get your scraplet-mannered medic to actually do something about them, like I have been telling him to.”

The comparison of a scraplet to Ratchet was something that Arcee couldn’t help but smirk at. Really, what made Optimus think that leaving Ratchet and Starscream alone was a good idea? It was a Primus given miracle that Ratchet hadn’t offlined his voice box to shut him up.

“Think that my neglect is funny?” He said, glare somehow intensifying.

“You wish,” she said, not even bothering to wipe her smirk off her faceplates. It wasn’t like Starscream could do anything to her if he wanted to stay on base. “Just trying to figure out how you and Ratchet haven’t killed each other yet.”

“I’m sure that he’s thought about it,” he huffed, wings lowering a fraction as his optics flickered and Arcee frowned.

Was she actually feeling sorry for the former Decepticon? She could smack herself in the faceplates. Optimus had only put her in charge of watching Starscream because Bulkhead wanted to beat him into scrap metal and Optimus had always been more protective of Bee.

This was Starscream, he had tried to kill her and Cliff! Scrap, he had been down right giddy when Shockwave had let him torture them.

But, if she truly wanted Arachnid to suffer the same way that she had made Arcee, then she was going to need Starscream’s help. And to get the fragger’s help, she was going to actually have to do something for him, as if saving his sorry aft wasn’t enough.

She sighed, letting her winglets fall, before saying, “I don’t know about getting Ratchet to fix them, but I could probably do something for them.”

“Really?” Starscream asked, wings perking up.

At least Optimus would be glad that one of them was making peace with their new edition.

“Yes… just let me see your servos to see what I need to get from my hab,” she said, holding out her own servo.

Now that she was actually looking at his claws, Arcee kind of understood why Starscream was making such a fuss over them. It wasn’t like Ratchet, or any of the others for that matter, would have understood as they all had blunter fingers, but Arcee knew just how annoying even a small dent could be.

“You stay put,” she told the seeker, dropping his servos as she headed out of the medbay.

“I don’t have much of a choice!” The seeker yelled after her in an irritated tone as Arcee ignored him and slipped out of the small medbay.

Her hab was in pristine shape, as she had always kept it even from her days in the police academy before the War, so it didn’t take her long to locate what she was looking for.

The small black case was something that Cliffjumper had put together with help from Ratchet shortly after they arrived on earth. She remembered how Cliff had made it for her while she was still recovering from Starscream ripping her arm off and beating Cliff with it, recalling how she remarked that she missed the small luxuries such as proper servo care that peace time allowed.

It was ironic that she was using it now to help the very mech who had done it, but if it meant killing Arachnid….

When she returned to the medbay, a scowling Starscream greeted her.

“Give me your servos,” she commanded as she sat on the edge of the berth and opened the small black case.

To her surprise, Starscream obliged with no pushback other than a slightly annoyed expression on his faceplates.

“Don’t get used to it,” she warned when she noticed the lithe seeker’s wings perk as she pulled out the keys to his cuffs.

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” he replied, even though his relaxed posture and soft sigh that escaped his vocalizer betrayed him as Arcee brushed a detailing cloth over his servos to clean off any residue.

Arcee expected for Starscream to be more talkative as she sanded his servos, given that his needless chatter was something that Arcee could recall with clarity when she and Cliffjumper were imprisoned under him. But, Starscream seemed perfectly content to sit there in silence with his optics shuttered as Arcee sanded his talons.

At least, for only a few moments.

“Why are you doing this?” He inquired, nearly startling Arcee. “Isn’t normally bad to have armed prisoners?”

“Well, we can’t exactly go after Arachnid if you can’t use your claws to stab into Arachnid’s spark.”

“We?!”

“Of course,” Arcee said, pausing from filling in the dents to look up at Starscream’s shocked red optics, “Unless you don’t want my help snuffing Arachnid.”

“Like you’ve gotten very far yourself.”

“Like you’ve done any better,” Arcee retorted.

Starscream growled softly as he glared at the femme, before sighing, “I suppose you’re right.”

“Good, because you can’t fight her on ground as well as I can —”

“I can too! I was underground and couldn’t use my missiles without compromising the structure!”

“Well, even then, your wings put you at a disadvantage with her legs,” Arcee said as Starscream glared at her. Just because he was aware that his wings gave Arachnid an edge over him on the ground, didn’t mean that he needed the two-wheeler to remind him of it. “But, in the air, your wings give you an advantage that I don’t have.”

Starscream straightened his back and lifted his wings as he said, “Yes, Arachnid’s vehicle mode is rather slow in aerial combat.”

“So are you saying that you do want to help me?” Arcee asked with a smug look on her face, because she already knew what Starscream’s answer would be.

“Fine! I’ll help you,” he relented, “but don’t think for a second that we’re friends.”

“Roger that,” she responded, going back to filling in the dents in his claws, glad that she finally had someone to help her take down Arachnid, even if it was Starscream.

Chapter Text

Fortunately for Starscream, Arcee managed to see him every day (although it was often only a few minutes) even though she claimed that it was so “he wouldn’t go more insane than he already had.” At the very least, it was nice to have someone to talk to. It hadn’t taken Ratchet long to figure out that Starscream was more annoyed with being ignored than recieving retorts to his many complaints. Prime also managed to see him, mostly to check on his progress with recovery and his reading assignment.

…. Unfortunately for Starscream, his week of bed rest extended into an eternal week and a half and he had to wear a brace on his injured leg until Ratchet deemed it fully healed. Of course, Ratchet would not shut up about how difficult his patient’s high heeled peds made the construction. He had to admire the lip on the medic. He wouldn’t even stop griping about it when Optimus helped Starscream off the berth. The whole situation was a recipe made to embarrass Starscream, with the icing on the cake being that Prime was practically holding him while the final touches were being made to Starscream’s new…. accessory .  

“Really, you shouldn’t even be standing right now,” Ratchet grumbled as he welded a seam. “But given that your legs provide me with a unique problem, it seems that I don’t have a choice.” 

I am perfectly capable of standing by myself, thank you very much , Starscream just barely stopped himself from growling in retort as he shifted a fraction of his weight off the Prime’s frame.  

Just as fate (which never seemed to favor Starscream) would have it, that was when his bad leg gave out and he collapsed into the massive red mech with a resounding clang . 

“I told you not to put any weight on that leg until the brace was complete!” Ratchet exclaimed with his usual dramatic indignance.

Before the seeker could even open his intake to snap back at the medic, Optimus stepped in.  

“Ratchet, please go easy on Starscream. It was a simple and understandable mistake,” he said calmly, helping to steady Starscream. 

The silver flier couldn’t stop the smug grin spreading across his faceplates even if he wanted to. At least the old medic would listen to Optimus to a certain degree.  

Ratchet just grumbled and rolled his optics as he set back to work on welding the brace.  

“Well,” the medic said, pulling back when he finally finished with the brace, “I still don’t want you stressing that leg – and you’ll need to come back for follow-ups – but as of now, you are discharged from the med bay.” 

A wave of relief washed over Starscream, shoulders slumping slightly as he let go of a vent he hadn’t realized he was holding. With the way his luck was going, he was worried that he would never leave the med bay.

“Thank you, old friend,” Optimus said with a slight nod toward the medic. It wasn’t until Starscream could feel the baritone of Prime’s voice vibrating throughout his own frame that he realized that he was still clinging to the larger mech like a parasite to its host.  

How fragging pathetic of him.  

Starscream’s optics widened slightly in surprise, and he felt some heat rush to his faceplates as he pulled away from Optimus as fast as his healing leg would allow. There was some pain still in his healing leg, he noticed as he teetered slightly on his peds without Prime’s support. At least he wasn’t falling on his aft like the disappointment that he was.  

“Starscream, would you like to see your quarters?”  

Optimus’ voice stole Starscream’s concentration from his current objective of staying upright.

“Of course,” was his smooth reply, even though there was still the lingering thought in the back of his processor that Optimus was taking him to a more secluded sector of the base to be sure of Starscream’s motives. Prime didn’t seem the type to discipline his troops where others could see.  Perhaps Prime won’t stream the beat downs to every screen like Megatron had Soundwave do on the warship , he thought as he followed Optimus out of the med bay and into a more cavernous room that appeared to be the main chamber of the Autobot base.  

Starscream blinked up at the room, surprised. He would have expected a cramped cave with minimal lighting and even more minimal and rudimentary technology. Instead, there were high ceilings with rafters, and the technology was just slightly more advanced than he would have first assumed. Starscream idly wondered if he could climb up into the rafters without Ratchet finding out.

There were no dark, purple shadows where Soundwave could lurk, and instead the warm tones of the rock were surprisingly well-lit by fluorescents. In fact, Starsvream  found the natural curvature of the red rocks almost – dare he say it – cozy . It was certainly no Decepticon warship… but maybe that’s why this space was more appealing to him than he would have originally guessed. 

 His only complaint was that there seemed to be a lingering layer of red dust resting on every surface, but all things considered, it was impressive for a hole in the ground.  

“Starscream?” Optimus inquired from the hallway entrance that was located at the opposite end of the ground bridge, causing the seeker’s wings to fly up in shock and his frame to stiffen. 

Great, he had been gawking at this hole in the ground, Starscream realized as he felt his faceplates warm. 

“I’m still injured, remember, Prime?” he spat at Optimus, holding his frame and wings held high as he limped toward his new leader, in a desperate attempt to hide his embarrassment.  

“I am aware,” Optimus said calmly, either not noticing or choosing not to comment on the smaller mech’s embarrassment. Though, Starscream could have sworn that he noticed a small smile tugging at the Prime’s lips as they started down the concrete corridor, Optimus keeping his pace slow so that the smaller mech could keep up. 

Even with that, Starscream found himself struggling to keep up with Optimus’s strides. He was a lot taller and noticeably not injured after all.

Optimus must have noticed the same thing too, because he stopped and turned around to face the seeker behind him. 

“Would you like some assistance with walking?” He asked, extending a massive servo towards him. 

The seeker glared at Optimus’s servo, debating on how much trouble he would be in if he clawed it. He already had spent far too much time relying on Prime for support for one day, and any second more would be tantamount to torture . 

“I’m fine,” he said stiffly, deciding that it was probably not the best idea to attack his new leader while they were alone and when he was at a significant disadvantage.  

“Very well,” Optimus said with a curt nod, beginning to walk again, slowing his pace even more so that Starscream wasn’t left hurrying after him. Which wasn't very fast, mind you. 

Starscream tried to memorize the route that they were taking, but it was nearly impossible due to the fact that every door and every corridor looked identical. That and the lack of conversation were beginning to grate on Starscream. While he appreciated that the Prime didn’t take every moment to preen or berate Starscream like Megatron did, he didn’t appreciate the fact that there was nothing to listen to other than their pedfalls on the concrete floors.

And if there was anything that Starscream could possibly hate more than Megatron, it would be awkward silence; it had a nasty tendency to lead Starscream to open his intake to say something extremely stupid in some desperate attempt to fill the void.  

For better or for worse, before Starscream could do exactly that, the pain in his right leg flared white-hot, and he stumbled to the ground. He managed to catch himself with his servos, but it wasn't without a noise that sounded revoltingly close to a whimper or his wings pinning back from the pain. 

Starscream screwed his optics shut, trying to ignore the worst of the pain as he heard the sound of Optimus’s pedfalls rushing to his side. He felt a massive servo being rested on his back plating that Starscream tried to not flinch away from.

“Starscream are you alright?” Optimus asked, and Starscream opened his optics just to be met with a faceplate that bore an expression that looked disgustingly close to pity. 

“I would be fine if your scrap-brained medic had given me pain killers for my leg!” Starscream snarled, struggling to keep weight off of his bad leg as Optimus helped him up, which unfortunately resulted in putting much of his weight on Optimus.  

“I apologize for the oversight. Ratchet informed me that we are low on the chemicals needed to create the painkillers and will not receive another shipment until next month,” Optimus explained, helping to steady the flier.

“Well, he clearly assumed wrong!” Starscream snarled at the Prime as he flared his wings slightly, wishing he could shove him away instead of once again using him for support. It was already embarrassing enough that Prime had to help him stand twice that day.

“Would you like to return to the med bay and receive some medicine for your pain?” Prime asked with that ever-present look of pity written across his face plates, earning a glare from the seeker. 

“Do you really think that I want to return to the idiot who thought that I wouldn’t require painkillers?” Starscream snapped, keeping the glare in his fiery red optics fixed on the Prime.

He expected some sort of retort, a glare, a snarl, really any negative reaction to Starscream’s blatant disrespect towards the medic. It never went over well with Megatron when he insulted Soundwave, after all. Instead, the only reaction from him was – 

“Very well,” he said, nodding his helm slightly, “I will have the painkillers delivered to you along with an energon ration.” 

That…  was unexpected. He had half-expected for the Prime to berate him for not being more thankful for Ratchet’s services; he still was a Decepticon in their optics, after all.  

Optimus could have left the smaller seeker to stand on his own and to find ways of coping with the pain by himself. He also could have beaten him for the language he was using against the larger mech’s “old friend” instead of helping him off the floor and supporting him as they finished the far too long trek to Starscream’s new quarters. Starscream supposed that a thanks was in order.

“Thank you,” Starscream muttered under his vents as he slipped an arm around Optimus’s shoulders, half-hoping that the Prime wouldn’t be able to hear him. 

Optimus slowed for a fraction of a second in what seemed to Starscream to be mild surprise before responding. “You are welcome.”

They continued the rest of the walk in silence but just as Starscream opened his intake to complain to Optimus about how far away the hab was, the Prime stopped and entered a code into the nearby panel by a door. The door slid open to reveal a small room with concrete walls, a berth that ran along one side, and a storage unit at the foot of it. A small stack of blankets lay on top of the berth and there was also a desk nearby with a lamp and data pad on it.  

It… wasn’t completely abhorrent. It was actually a fair bit roomier than his quarters on the warship. Even though he was First Lieutenant, a single warship that housed hundreds of vehicons and the storage space required for all the needed supplies lacked the space required for comfortable quarters. 

“Before I leave you to get settled, I would like to cover some ground rules with you,” Optimus said as he helped Starscream settle on the berth, which was actually surprisingly comfortable given the fact that the Autobots did not have access to the same amount of resources that the Decepticons had. It was comfortable enough to keep him from rolling his optics at the very concept of ground rules. 

Yes, he was still very much a dangerous ex Decepticon, but that didn’t warrant treating him like he was a sparkling fresh from the Well of Allsparks.  

“First,” Optimus said, drawing himself to his full height and looking down at Starscream, “You are not permitted to leave your quarters unless you are given permission by either myself or Ratchet, unless there is an emergency that requires immediate evacuation. If you wish to be in another area of the base, you may use the data pad provided to you to contact myself or Ratchet.”  

Starscream frowned; like he would ever willingly contact that mech.  

“This leads me to the next ground rule. Until you have further proven your trustworthiness, you may not be without a chaperone in the base outside of your quarters.” 

Great, another prison , Starscream thought, straightening his posture, hoping that it would mask his annoyance. At least this prison would be more comfortable than the one he spent many nights in on the warship and didn’t have a grumpy medic and his constant griping.  

“One other rule that will be reconsidered as your loyalty to us has been further proven is that you are not allowed outside this base unless we are in the most desperate of circumstances.” 

Starscream couldn’t suppress the groan on his vocalizer even if he wanted to.  

“You object to this?” Optimus said, crossing his arms and raising one eyebrow slightly as his expression grew more stern. 

“Seekers are predisposed to claustrophobia,” he stated matter of fact, straightening his posture and hiking his wings higher on his back. “But you Autobots wouldn’t know that as you haven’t had a seeker in your ranks in quite some time.”

Optimus’s gaze lingered on Starscream, though his expression seemed to soften slightly as he regarded what the seeker had told him. Starscream kept his composure. He hadn’t lied - well, not really . He had simply said that seekers were predisposed to claustrophobia, not that all of them had it. It was up to the Prime to fill in the gaps with the limited information that Starscream had given him.

While he hated being indoors for long periods of time, any claustrophobia he had was downright mild compared to what Thundercracker experienced when he got trapped in tiny spaces. His brother would completely freak out and it would take Starscream and Skywarp - ok, fine , mostly Skywarp - hours sometimes to calm the blue mech down. 

In reality, he was more annoyed with the fact that he wouldn’t be allowed outside to feel the wind between his wings. He couldn’t even transform , and he seriously doubted he could outrun any of them with his bad leg. Plus, even if he wanted to see Megatron’s ugly mug again, he doubted that the Decepticons could find him given that Ratchet probably disabled his tracker the moment Optimus brought him to the base.

“…I see.” Optimus eventually said, his gaze never leaving the smaller mech’s slight figure. “I will attempt to devise a plan so you can have some time outside. Just please understand that this will not be immediate, as there are many variables to consider.” 

Unable to contain his glee, Starscream’s wings fluttered, as a genuine grin spread across his faceplates. Maybe his sole purpose in this universe wasn’t to suffer after all!

Before Starscream could get too excited by this, Optimus opened his intake again, and his grin was quickly replaced with a pout. Just how many of these rules were there going to be?!  

“Another thing to consider is that while you will have access to a data pad, your usage of it will be monitored,” Prime said. “And while I believe that you have made a sincere switch of sides, I must say this for both our and your own safety: any effort to contact the Decepticons will be met with a punishment that has yet to be determined. Is that understood?” 

“Yes, sir,” Starscream said, trying to keep himself from trembling or from his wings lowering in a display of fear.  

“Do you have any questions?” Optimus asked, his gaze softening ever so slightly. Did he really look frightened? 

“Not at this time,” he said, hoping that the tremor in his voice wasn’t too pronounced.  

“Then I will leave you to get settled,” the Prime said, turning to leave. “I will have Ratchet bring you a ration of energon and some pain killers shortly.”  

The door slid shut, and Starscream was left to examine the stack of blankets left on his berth, idly wondering if they were taken from Cybertron, or if the humans somehow managed to get their grubby hands on enough fabric for creatures that were so much larger than themselves. On top, there was a small piece of paper on it, which read, “The kids thought that you might want the blankets. – Arcee.” 

He raised a single eyebrow at the message. He would have expected for the kids to keep their distance, given that the pink haired one and her black haired companion last saw him antagonizing one of their own. He wondered if Arcee had put them up to this; he did lament to her more than once about how much he missed his luxury bedding back on Cybertron.

It was… nice, he supposed. 

~*~

Starscream didn’t know how long he stared at the rock ceiling of his new hab, trying to block out the pain in his leg. Usually when he had been locked away in the Nemesis barracks, he spent his time plotting how he was going to get his revenge on Megatron. Not that it ever worked, he supposed. But it was at least something to do . 

There was no one to plot against here. So, he settled on how he was going to settle the score between him and Airachnid. 

He was just beginning to imagine the look on her faceplates when she realized that she had not only failed her mission, but that it would come back to haunt her, when his hab door slid open.  

Finally , Starscream thought, sitting up in his berth with a groan at the ache that seemed to permeate every circuit in his leg, just to be met with a pair of glaring, blue optics that belonged to the fat, green wrecker.  

“I was expecting Ratchet,” Starscream sneered, matching the scowl that Bulkhead wore on his faceplates and flared his wings out.  

“Look, I’m not thrilled about this either,” Bulkhead growled before throwing the seeker a single cube of energon and some pain killers.  

Starscream plucked the items off his berth and eyed them with suspicion before directing his glare back at the round mech.  

“What? Mad that you got stuck with the job of ensuring that your newest member didn’t starve?” Starscream taunted, keeping his voice low and threatening.  

“If you have to know, Prime and the others are out scouting one of the locations you provided, and Ratchet has had enough of your sorry aft, so I got stuck delivering this scrap to you,” the wrecker spat before moving into the space, which was far too small for his size, in Starscream’s opinion. He kept his optics locked on Bulkhead’s even as the wrecker leered over him. Starscream grit his dente, determined to not look threatened by the larger mech. 

“Well, you clearly completed your mission, so why don’t you leave?” the seeker snarled, though he felt a slight tremor race along his wings. 

Starscream was a fair bit taller than the wrecker when standing straight, but Bulkhead had a… larger mass. That, combined with the wrecker’s strength and wrecking ball, ensured that Starscream really didn’t want to fight this idiot when Optimus couldn’t step in for him.  

“I’ll leave as soon as you promise me one thing,” Bulkhead said through gritted dente, leaning down to be eye level with the smaller seeker who remained seated on the berth.

“And what would that be, hmm?” Starscream asked, flicking his eyebrows upwards slightly. He had never been one for keeping promises. 

“I haven’t forgotten what happened in the cave,” Bulkhead growled, “And what you did to Miko.” 

Primus, all of this for a human ? Starscream thought as he leaned away from Bulkhead and crossed his arms and fought the urge to roll his optics.  

“If you even think about hurting her,” Bulkhead continued, keeping his tone at a threatening growl, “Then you will answer to me , we clear?” 

“Crystal,” Starscream replied smoothly.  

There was no point wasting his vents explaining to this oaf that he didn’t have the time, nor energy, for hurting a human.  

Bulkhead huffed before turning to leave, with the doors sliding shut behind him.  

Starscream glanced at the energon and painkillers in the palm of his servo then pulled up his fuel tank readings on his HUD.  

Fuel capacity: 82%. 

He stared down at the little cube still in his talons, replaying what Bulkhead had said in his helm. It couldn’t hurt to have a little extra energon stored away in case the Autobots decided that starving him was more noble than beating him into scrap. If he had known where his “field trip” with Airachnid was going, he would have brought all of the fuel he had hidden away in his quarters on the Nemesis.  

82% in his tank would be enough to not make him purge his tanks if he had the pain killers. That was one lesson that he wouldn’t forget, but spending several slagging days sick while staying on top of his duties so that Megatron didn’t beat him half to death again tended to make things stick.  

He leaned over the end of his berth to open the storage unit that laid there and tucked the singular cube in the corner. The large empty space made the singular ration look so small that it almost appeared lonely. The seeker stared at it longer than he cared to admit, and found himself strangely pitying the blue glowing object.

I’ll refuel in the morning when I get my next ration , Starscream thought, pushing himself upright and taking the medicine. It’s always better to be safe rather than sorry anyways.  

Chapter Text

Being Megatron’s little errand femme wasn’t exactly what Airachnid had envisioned for herself when she replaced Starscream as First Lieutenant. She expected something more… glamorous than scuttling around in the dirt like she was still a scavenger rather than the Second in Command of the Decepticon army. No wonder Starscream was constantly attempting to usurp Megatron.

At least Lord Megatron still permitted Airachnid to carry the Immobilizer.

The power of this weapon being hers and hers alone to wield brought her enough satisfaction despite the fact the vast majority of human weapons did more than tickle their armor. But the thought of using this weapon on Arcee, freezing her and her friends as she ripped them apart piece by piece while the two wheeler was forced to watch was still something that Airachnid looked forward to.

That image and her own Vehicon Guard were more than enough to keep her content. She even was allowed to repaint the vehicons to be obsidian black with magenta accents to set them apart from the other vehicons, much to Knockout’s dismay. They were a great first step towards the troops viewing Airachnid as a better leader than Megatron, and she could have them do most of the heavy lifting, which was rather convenient given that the majority of the equipment needed for space bridge construction was much larger than her own frame. These vehicons also made a great way to gain trust from the troops, making a coup much more feasible for her – especially when they seemed just as confused as to what purpose this space bridge would serve.

Really, where Starscream failed in his countless bids for leader of the Decepticons was that he had next to no support from any of the troops. Megatron beating the scrap out of his previous second in command ensured that every Decepticon saw nothing more than a weak, cowardly mech whose only talent was begging for mercy at the warlord’s peds. That kind of image didn’t exactly invoke “New Leader of the Decepticons.”

Not that she felt sorry for Starscream, far from it in fact. His murder was almost as much fun as Arcee’s would be.

~*~

“Prime, I really can’t believe that you brought him here without first contacting me!” Agent Fowler exploded, pointing an accusatory finger up at Optimus. “Especially when we have multiple reports of Airachnid raiding US military bases – and we don’t even know what she was trying to obtain! And that’s only if Starscream is telling the truth! He could be withholding information or lying to us!”

They were in a separate room adjacent to the common area, where it would be easier to discuss this civilly without everyone else interjecting - especially Starscream. While Optimus knew that the seeker was known for being especially smooth with his words, he also had the unfortunate tendency to say things that he might later regret, especially if he got offended. And given Fowler’s… less than friendly attitude towards the former Decepticon, offending Starscream would be an easy thing to do.

“Starscream was injured and was in critical condition when we found him,” Optimus responded, keeping his tone even, “If I had first consulted you, there was a great possibility that Starscream could perish. You know as well as I that leaving an injured soldier to die without attempting to save them is something that I have done my best to avoid throughout the war. And I’m sure it is something that you approve of due to your own laws in your country and as a fellow soldier.

Agent Fowler set his hands on his hips, and opened his mouth, but Optimus raised his servo to stop him before continuing. “As for Airachnid, Starscream will be a great help in determining what she was sent to retrieve, and stopping whatever Megatron might have planned. Starscream is a known opportunist — if he believes that helping us helps him in turn, he becomes a valuable asset. And with the information that he has given us, it has been proven to be honest.”

“Look, we normally let you bots do your own thing, but it’s different this time. The government doesn’t exactly like it when adversaries kidnap federal employees,” Fowler said with a glare. “Not to mention that Uncle Sam wants him on charges of terrorism, conspiracy for theft of federal property, and torture.”

“I understand the hesitancy that both you and your government have of Starscream,” Optimus sighed, “But I believe that he can represent a step in the right direction towards eliminating the Decepticon threat because he held such a high position in the Decepticon Ranks.”

“Oh, so he gets to walk away with no consequences whatsoever?”

“Starscream has been watched carefully, with his servos cuffed for the time being, and has not been allowed outside our base.” Optimus replied, “But it is not my desire to use any form of physical punishment on him at this time.”

“Prime, he's a Decepticon!” Fowler yelled, using his hands to punctuate the syllables of the last word. “I’m not sure anything but physical coercion will work on him.”

”Your opinion is noted.” Optimus stated with a small frown, “But I disagree. Starscream has been very responsive to non-violent methods, and his intel has resulted in multiple unused Decepticon mining locations being recovered. The last thing we want to do is alienate a potential source of information - one that could lead us to resources we cannot afford to ignore.”

“What, you think that he’ll just run back to Megatron?” Fowler asked, crossing his arms and tilting his head.

Optimus sighed and shuttered his optics. He was hesitant to share theories that were based on speculation from Elita and a few observations made by Ratchet. Neither were particularly definitive, and without any input from Starscream, Optimus could not be certain. Besides, it was hardly his place to be sharing speculation about Starscream’s treatment during his time with the Decepticons.

He opened his optics up again, making eye contact with Fowler.

“We have reason to believe that Megatron has been subjugating his underlings to various forms of physical discipline — particularly egregious forms, in Starscream’s case. Discipline that is too harsh to be explained away with simple corporal punishment,” Optimus stated.

Agent Fowler didn’t look impressed — or convinced.

“Well, we know that ‘Screamy in the other room isn’t the most loyal of Megatron’s subjects.”

“Ratchet found a few marks on Starscream that could indicate abuse — older injuries that have not been fully healed, improperly healed wounds and permanent damage. But he admits that they are not definitive as Airachnid inflicted a number of injuries on him.” The Prime began. “And my conjux — or as you would call it, my spouse, knew Starscream before the war and believed that some changes in his behavior could be attributed to this sort of treatment.”

“For the love of George Washington…” Agent Fowler mumbled, burying his face in his palm before dragging it down his face. “You’re telling me that based on suspicions made by your dead wife and some guesses made by Ratchet, you want to take Starscream in as some sort of act of what… charity?”

“Freedom is the right of all sentient beings. And one cannot be free if they are trapped in a situation where they are being harmed.”

Fowler glared up at the Prime, before letting out a huff.

“You’re sure that he’s shown no signs of deception?” He asked.

Optimus nodded. “We have ensured to keep careful watch on Starscream, and will continue to do so until he has proved himself of his trustworthiness.”

“Fine,” Fowler said, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I’ll make a call to the Department of Defense.”

“Thank you, Agent Fowler,” Optimus said, a small smile appearing on his face.

“And I want you working on what Airachnid obtained!” Fowler yelled, spinning on his heel, and pointing yet another finger at the Prime. “The last thing we need is the ‘Cons getting their hands on another weapon of mass destruction.”

~*~

Starscream couldn’t stop staring at the new Autobot symbol that adorned the center of his chest plating. He wasn’t an idiot, far from it, despite how it looked to others. He knew that he would get a symbol sooner or later but it all seemed so soon.

The seeker would have expected to receive the symbol after some sort of grandiose display of loyalty to Team Prime to signify a true switch in sides. To show where he stood after a long drawn out battle. Not a tool to help make Starscream a true defector to the Autobot cause for political, human optics.

But the silver seeker had to admit that there was logic behind receiving the symbol sooner rather than later. Starscream could no longer claim that he had been captured by the Autobots and had been forced to give up intel. Instead, the evidence of Starscream’s greatest betrayal would be painted in a bright, fiery red, standing out on his silver plating like a wine stain on a light colored dress.

Or, it would be if Miko could actually focus on finishing the paint job instead of getting distracted by asking Starscream the most absurd questions known to all of Cybertron and this cursed mud ball.

Starscream was honestly a little bit surprised that he hadn’t met the humans sooner, given the Autobots seemed to adopt them the same way that Thundercracker tried to bring home a random assortment of animals that he deemed “cute.” But Optimus had explained to Starscream when he came by to escort the seeker out of his quarters that it was best for Starscream to be kept away from them so he could have a peaceful recovery.

Technically, he was still recovering — he had to wear the ugly brace that extended halfway up his thigh. But, Ratchet had cleared him, so he couldn’t put off this interaction any longer.

At least he had been given an energon cube to drink beforehand; answering Miko’s questions on a nearly empty fuel tank would be torture, since he hadn’t refueled last night due to the teen girl’s guardian threatening him. Plus he had to contend with less than ideal sleep in addition to that… but then again he hadn’t had an “ideal” or “healthy” night of recharge since long before the war. Just part of the job of being the director of Sentinel’s security along with Elita. Although that was a position that both him and Elita would have gladly given up if they had known what Sentinel was doing with their information.

Starscream had woken up early due to the pain in his leg flaring up, and he had been forced to stare up at the ceiling of his quarters, which was ever so slightly more interesting than the ceiling in the medbay. Thankfully, his hab ceiling had bits of shiny rock embedded in it, which reflected just enough light from his data pad to almost make it feel like starscream was under a night sky. He even “discovered” a few constellations which he promptly named after his trine and Skyfire. He must be going insane being underground for so long.

Way to keep those grounder rumors that seekers would go insane without enough exposure to the sky going, Starscream thought ruefully trying to tune Miko’s chatter out.

He supposed that he did prefer being in the more open common room than in his quarters, even if Miko was the one to paint his chassis. He still didn’t understand why she had to be the one to paint on his chassis, and it seemed that Jack’s mom (which he learned was the human version of a carrier) agreed with him… at first.

Optimus had told her that it would be safe for the children, and that Arcee would be there to supervise. June allowed it only after making threats towards Starscream that he had no doubt that she would make good on, despite her tiny stature. At this point, the only thing that seemed to be going mildly well for him was the fact that Bulkhead and the Bumblebee were out on patrol.

“Can I ask you a question?” Miko piped up from her work.

Starscream rolled his optics and raised an optical ridge at the girl.

“Seeing you have already asked me around a million questions without my input, I hardly see why you’re asking me this now,” he replied with a drawl.

To be fair, Miko wasn’t the only one asking Starscream questions. When Raf learned that Starscream had a background in the chemistry of energon and ballistics, he began to pipe up more. It was easy to tell that this small being had a passion for science, even though Raf admitted that he was more interested in coding and computer sciences. The tiny human vaguely reminded Starscream of Skyfire, despite their extreme differences in size and their differing areas of study.

Jack would ask the occasional question about the War for Cybertron, particularly about the Decepticon position and the role that Starscream played in the war. He had to give the teen credit for exploring outside of the Autobot narrative, but he remembered Arcee telling him that Jack had an interest in history so this wasn’t exactly surprising. He even suspected that the two-wheeler probably encouraged Jack beforehand to ask those questions because Starscream would have more interest in talking about his role in the war.

But Miko… Miko was relentless. She had managed to wear Starscream down faster than some of Megatron’s interrogations did. In roughly half the span of an hour, the girl had asked questions like “Do vehicons have names?” (They gave each other nicknames but were most commonly referred to by the designations) and “Why did you rescue Breakdown?” (He needed both Breakdown and Knockout’s support if he was going to make another coup attempt).

“I want to know more about the dynamics on the warship,” Miko asked, prompting Starscream to just roll his optics. “So, like, did you and Megatron ever have a thing for each other?”

“I beg your pardon?!” Starscream shrieked as Arcee and the other humans choked.

“So… I’m guessing that it’s a no?” the girl asked.

“It is most definitely a no!” the seeker screeched, “Megatron is a brute! And we can hardly stand to be in the same room as one another, let alone being romantic in any way!”

Starscream gagged as some unhelpful images were being conjured by his processor that he could go his entire life without ever seeing again. And Starscream had seen his own insides and his own limbs torn from his limbs on more than one occasion.

“Is there a problem?” The unmistakable baritone that could only belong to Optimus asked, thankfully banishing those less than savory images from his mind for the time being.

“There most certainly is!” The flier yelled, knowing how ridiculous he looked by laying on a few spare crates with the cause of this whole problem perched proudly on his chest while she painted.

“This brat!” Starscream yelled, using his servo to gesture towards the teen, “Asked where or not Megatron were romantically involved!”

Optimus frowned, and looked at Miko with a disappointed expression.

“What?” Miko snickered, using a hand in a very poor attempt to try to cover her smile. “I just wanted to know more about what went on inside the warship! The best way to defeat your enemies is to know them.”

“I hardly think that includes knowing about any romantic relationships that might have or might not have been going on,” Starscream snapped before Optimus or June had the chance to reply with a possibly more couth answer. But as far as Starscream was concerned, the line between couth and uncouth behavior had already been crossed.

“I am in agreement with Starscream,” Optimus said before Starscream had the chance to continue his rant. “Any relationships that might or might not have been had on the Nemesis provide very little insight into information that can be used. And I believe that an apology would be in order, even if you did not mean to offend Starscream.”

“And I agree with Optimus,” June announced, “Miko, I know that you’re used to the other bots answering your questions, but Starscream isn’t Bulkhead or Wheeljack, and Decepticons probably live very different lives.”

Starscream was starting to like June more and more.

“Fine, fine,” Miko said, shifting her weight, “I’m sorry for asking that question. Better?”

Both June and Optimus nodded once, but Starscream snorted.

“My trine and I happened to receive full ride scholarships for our flying and for Skywarp’s spark ability,” he snarled before mumbling, “Just to set the record straight.”

“Whatever you say, ‘Screamy,” Miko said with a wink.

Starscream opened his intake, but before he could even say anything, Miko loudly exclaimed, “Oh your paint’s done!”

The girl clambered off of Starscream’s chassis with her paints and brushes.

“Finally,” Starscream huffed, rising to his peds. His leg certainly hurt less with the pain killers, although Ratchet had raised an optical ridge when the medic learned that the seeker was burning through the medication faster than he first presumed. Just another reminder of what Megatron had done to him, but it wasn’t like Starscream was going to tell Ratchet about that. The seeker could simply allow for the doctor to assume that his frametype and the war caused him to burn through the meds faster rather than it being the product of Megatron’s many “lessons” throughout the centuries.

“Well, I just got off the phone with the President,” the dark-skinned human that Starscream recognized as Agent Fowler said as he climbed the stairs that led to the landing. “And he agrees with Optimus that Starscream gives us an advantage against the Decepticons, and will allow him to stay and will not face any prosecution by the United States.”

Starscream blinked in surprise, he half-expected for the government to demand that Prime throw him out for what he had done to the human that now stood before him.

“But,” the special agent continued, “Given his past, Starscream cannot have access to any sensitive information until he has proven himself trustworthy, which will happen after some the Commanding Officers at the Pentagon and the President can interview Starscream in person or a video after he has had some time to acclimate to this side.”

It was hardly different from what Prime had already outlined for Starscream, other than the fact that Starscream had to meet and/or prove his trustworthiness to them too now. But, the leaders of the United States seemed to hold Optimus in high regards, which would at least help smooth over some of the rougher patches.

“That is more than alright, Agent Fowler,” Optimus replied.

“Let’s go!” Miko yelled, pumping her fist into the air. “Now we get to teach Starscream about human culture! First up: movies!”

He glanced over at Optimus, and to his dismay, the Prime gave him a little hopeful look, encouraging him to spend more time with the humans. Which in Starscream’s opinion was already far too much time.

“It’s not so bad whenever they actually agree on something to watch,” Arcee said, nudging his side. “And you’ll probably get lucky this time around since June is here; she’ll probably pick something like Sense and Sensibility.”

Starscream frowned at the two-wheeler, not fully believing her. But a name like “Sense and Sensibility” didn’t sound half bad and he would rather not be in his quarters until he had to, even if it was comfortable. He might as well give this exposure to human culture a chance, even though he was certain that he would probably walk away with an even greater disdain for it.